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Letting Sleeping Ensigns Lie

By Skazitelnitsky

It was still relatively early in the evening of the Science Department's annual Christmas party when Chekov came up to where Sulu was standing near the door.

"Hi," the lieutenant greeted his helmpartner as the navigator took up a position beside him with his back to the door.

"Hello," Chekov replied keeping his eyes on the other guests in the center of the room.

Sulu noticed the ensign looked a little green. "How are you?"

"Fine," the Russian replied stoically.

"Think you're going to throw up?" the lieutenant guessed.

The Russian nodded.

Sulu shook his head. "It was the eggnog, wasn't it?"

Chekov sighed weakly. "What do they put in the damned stuff?"

The lieutenant grinned and shrugged. "The same thing they put in it last year."

"Could we finish this conversation elsewhere?"

Sulu could here the underlying urgency that the ensign was downplaying. "Sure."

Without further delay, he ushered his rapidly paling friend out the door and down the corridor past other revellers to his cabin. Sulu's quarters were only a few steps away from the Officers Lounge where the Science Department's Christmas party was usually held. This arrangement had proved convenient in a number of ways for him and others attending Yuletide festivities held at that location for a number of years now.

Chekov was familiar with the layout and did not wait for directions to the head.

Sulu shook his head sympathetically as he put a pot of coffee on to warm. "Are you all right?" he called when the sounds of retching subsided.

"Better," came a choked reply.

"I think it's the mix," Sulu said, pulling the folding cot out of his closet. "You seem to be able to drink vodka or eggnog, but not both."

"Now he tells me," Chekov groaned. This complaint was followed closely by more sounds of gastronomic distress. "Perhaps I'm allergic..."

Sulu unfolded the cot. "Or perhaps it was the three Midori Sours you had on top of it all."

"Midori what?"

"The green drinks with the cherries in them," Sulu replied, returning to closet for a blanket.

"Those were alcoholic?"

"Pavel, that's the sort of question you need to be asking before you have your head in someone's toilet."

More retching. "You're a great comfort."

"Are you sure you don't want me to take you to sickbay?"

"Oh, yes," Chekov replied sarcastically. "I truly need a lecture on temperance to go with this headache."

The lieutenant shrugged to himself as he unfurled a sheet. "Let me know if you change your mind."

The Russian came into the cabin wiping his mouth with a towel. His uniform tunic had apparently been a casualty of the upheaval in the other room and had been left behind. He eyed the half-made cot suspiciously. "What's that for?"

"Well, I've had this particular cabin for several years now," Sulu explained tucking in the edges of the sheet. "The Science department always has their Christmas party across the hall in Lounge 5 and there has always been someone at that Christmas party who needed to... rest for a while."

Chekov groaned as he sat down. "And this year that someone is me."

Sulu grinned. "If it's any consolation, it was also you last year."

"Really?" The ensign blinked. "I don't remember."

Sulu grinned and nodded. "I'm not surprised."

The ensign rubbed his aching head. "I must be allergic to eggnog."

"It seems like you would have noticed that before," the lieutenant pointed out as he covered the little bed with a blanket. "Or don't they drink eggnog at Christmas in Russia?"

"It's only served at Christmas?"

"Yeah."

Chekov shrugged. "My father's an atheist and my mother's Jewish. I never celebrated Christmas at all until I came to the Academy."

Sulu suddenly felt a surge of pity for him. "I'm sorry."

"About my parents' religious beliefs?"

"No. That you never got to celebrate Christmas when you were a kid."

The Russian shrugged. "There are other holidays."

"I know." Sulu got out two mugs for the coffee. "Christmas was always my favorite when I was a kid."

"Because of the religious significance?"

"It was probably because of the presents," he admitted. "But there was more to it than that. I don't know... It was always a time when everyone was happy. It was a time when you could demonstrate your love for the people you cared about."

He held out a steaming cup to the ensign, who held out a hand to receive it. Before Chekov could take hold of it, however, he was seized with another spasm and had to make a hasty exit.

"You know," Sulu said, sighing and putting down the second mug. "It could be those two beers you had."

Chekov was coughing. "I don't drink beer," he gasped.

"Not well, no."

"When was I drinking beer?" the ensign demanded.

Sulu took the seat the navigator had vacated. "After you did those shots of tequila with Vanessa Gallegos."

"Oh." Chekov re-entered the room. His boots had not made it though this bout. "I think I do remember that. How do you know what I've been drinking? It sounds as though you've been doing nothing but watching me all night."

"Last year you asked me to keep track of what you drank this year," Sulu explained, sipping his coffee. "You kept saying it was the eggnog that made you sick. And you know, I think you're right. The eggnog definitely seems to have something to do with it.... Although that peppermint schnapps you had couldn't have helped..."

On the word "peppermint" the ensign gagged and beat a quick retreat to the bathroom.

The door chime buzzed.

When Sulu pressed the release, Dr. McCoy didn't cross the threshold, but instead put head in for a quick look. "Chekov okay?"

"Oh, yeah." The lieutenant gestured towards the head with his thumb. "Eggnog gave him an upset stomach."

McCoy raised and eyebrow. "Like last year?"

"Yeah." Sulu nodded amiably. "Don't worry, Doc. I'll take care of him."

The other eyebrow came up to meet it. "Just like last year." He grinned. "Well, have him take two aspirin and call me in the morning."

"Sure. Merry Christmas, Doc."

"Merry Christmas, Sulu."

After the door re-closed, Sulu was left alone with his coffee for a few moments until his guest hesitantly re-entered. Chekov's pants hadn't made the complete journey this time. He was wrapped in a towel and only ventured a half-step into the cabin. "Who was that?"

Sulu held his coffee out for him. "Dr. McCoy stopped by to see how you were."

The ensign waved the coffee away. "I don't want anything."

"You should drink some water."

"Maybe later." Chekov rubbed his eyes. "Ummm.... Do you have a robe?"

"Yeah." The lieutenant pointed to the bathroom. "It's beside the..."

The ensign cleared his throat. "Do you have... another robe?"

Sulu winced.

Chekov held out a hand to stop him from rising. "I'll.... I'll put some things in the recycling unit and... clean up a bit."

"Well, if you think you're up to it...." the lieutenant agreed dubiously.

"Oh, I'm fine now, " the ensign assured him. "Just a little too much eggnog. It disagrees with me."

"Yeah." The helmsman nodded. "Doesn't make a good mix with Jaegermeister or Goldschlager either."

Chekov swallowed uneasily. "I didn't have either one of those, did I?"

The lieutenant continued to nod. "Both."

"Oh...." The color in the ensign's face began to undergo a change. "If you'd just excuse me for a moment..."

Sulu got up and poured the second cup of coffee back into the pot.

"Damned German inventions," he thought he heard the Russian mutter from the bathroom.

"Shower," he advised his colleague. "It will make you feel better."

"I think... that would be a good idea."

Sulu decided not to think about the present condition of his bathroom. He hunted through his closet for an extra pillow and pair of pyjamas.

The door chime buzzed again just as he was laying them out on the cot. "Come."

"Sssulu..." Uhura draped herself around the doorframe dramatically. "Hey, baby."

"Having a good time at the party, I see," he said.

"Oh, hell, yeah." Her grin was a little lopsided. "Would you settle a bet for me, Sugar?"

The helmsman shrugged amiably. "Sure. If I can."

The grin took on a devilish twist. "How much clothes does Chekov have on right now?"

"Ha, ha," Sulu laughed humorlessly. "Actually, he's in the shower."

"Ooooh," she crowed. "A new record! Baby, you're pathetic!"

Sulu smiled as he stepped forward and gently peeled her off his doorway. "And you're drunk."

"Hhhhell, yeah!" Her breath was at least 150 proof. She leaned forward tapped his chest. "And you're stone cold sober, you weasel."

"Thanks for dropping by," he said, unobtrusively putting his arms against the doorframe to block her from entering any further. "Have a good time at the party."

"Cheer up, Sugar," she said, standing on tiptoe to give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "I know this year is going to be your year. Tonight is going to be your night. Carpe the p.m., honey!"

"Thanks," he replied, placing a hand on her back and giving her a gentle push back towards the party. "And Merry Christmas."

"You go get him, tiger!" she called before the door closed.

"Who was that?" Chekov stumbled in wearing the lieutenant's robe.

The helmsman smiled innocently. "No one. How are you feeling? Would you like some coffee? Some aspirin?"

"I think I'd like to sleep," he said carefully putting his hands on the cot's mattress and walking himself down.

"Go ahead." Sulu rose and crossed the room. "But I'm going to get you a glass of water. You'll rest better if you have some."

"Yes, certainly," the ensign mumbled.

By the time the lieutenant returned with the glass, Chekov's eyes were closed and he was snoring softly. Sulu shrugged and put the glass on a nearby shelf. After dimming the room's lighting, he settled back in his chair with his coffee.

Chekov's face looked rosy next to the white sheets and the white robe. His hair hung damply in his eyes. His full lips were parted...

The doorchime buzzed.

"Who is that?" the ensign slurred groggily.

Sulu sighed and set his cup aside. "Well, it's about time for the Ghost of Christmas Future to arrive..."

A reasonably sober-looking Christine Chapel was waiting for him. "I wanted to check on Chekov," she said.

Sulu gestured to the cot. "He's asleep."

The ensign groaned and rolled over.

"Almost," the lieutenant amended.

"That's good." Her smile, when she turned back to the lieutenant seemed sad. "And how are you?"

Sulu was taken back. Did everyone on the ship know about the crush he had on Chekov? Had he become that transparent and pathetic? "I'm fine," he said brightly. "I didn't have that much to drink."

The expression in her eyes let him know that she wasn't fooled by this subterfuge. She tilted her head to one side as she looked back to the cot. "It's hard to be alone for the holidays," she said softly. "Isn't it?"

Despite the way her question made his stomach knot, Sulu gave a little laugh. "Well, I'm not exactly alone..."

Her smile was sad and pitying. "Not this year," she said, giving his arm a pat before turning to leave.

Chekov roused at the sound of the door closing behind her. "Who was that?"

"Oh, just the last of the three wise men." Sulu locked the door and deactivated the doorchime for the night. "Wanted to drop off a little myrrh."

"Oh." Chekov rolled over onto his back and beckoned to him. "Sulu..."

The lieutenant crossed to the cot. "Yeah?"

"What was it you said..?." As if to help him remember, the ensign reached out and took the lieutenant's hand. "About friends and the meaning of Christmas?"

Sulu smiled. He couldn't feel the warm pressure of that hand against his without doing so. "I said that it's the time when you can demonstrate your love to the people you care about."

"Yes." Not letting go his hand, the ensign gestured him closer. "Come here."

When Sulu bent to listen, the ensign put his arms around him and pulling him awkwardly down on to the cot.

"Chekov!" the lieutenant protested, laughing, but not resisting.

The Russian hugged him tightly. "Thank you for caring about me."

"You're welcome." Sulu returned the hug as passionately as he longed to every day. "I do care about you, buddy," he whispered. "More than you know."

Chekov pulled back and patted the lieutenant's face. "I'd kiss you, but I need to brush my teeth."

"Yeah, you do," the lieutenant had to agree.

"Maybe tomorrow," he promised, rolling over and snuggling in the helmsman's arms.

"Maybe," Sulu said, knowing that was all he was wishing for this holiday. "Merry Christmas, Chekov."

"Merry Christmas."