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Date: Sun, 02 May 2004 14:48:35 -0400
Subject: [ASC] NEW:TOS "Monkey Business" 1/1 [PG-13] S, Mc, others
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Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 2 May 2004 03:19:12 -0700  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: roq@iname.com (Rocky) 
 

Title: Monkey Business
Author: Rocky
Contact: roq@iname.com
Web page: http://www.angelfire.com/yt/rockyroad
Series: TOS
Part: New 1/1
Rating: [PG-13]
Codes: S, Mc, others
Date first posted: 5/2/04
Archive: ASC yes, all others please ask

Summary: A new crew member presents some interesting challenges.
Disclaimer: Star Trek and all of its characters are the property of
Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: The blame for this rests squarely on Ventura33 and
Jungle Kitty, the latter for planting the seeds, and the former for
the 'double dog dare.' Many thanks to Seema for the beta.

Monkey Business
By Rocky

"Doctor McCoy, may I have a moment of your time?" Spock asked. He
stood in front of the Sickbay exit, effectively blocking the other
man's path.

McCoy sighed. "Actually, Spock, I was just heading back to my
quarters. However, Dr. M'Benga is on duty, and I'm sure he can take
care of you."

"My problem is not medical. I require your assistance with a personnel
issue."

"A personal issue?" For a moment, McCoy couldn't understand why Spock
was coming to him of all people. "Oh, you mean *personnel*?"

"Yes, although your original assumption was also correct, as the
matter concerns a junior officer."

McCoy glanced nervously over his shoulder, anxious to get out of
Sickbay before a sudden crisis erupted, or the ship was plunged into
another red alert--which had been happening with increasing frequency,
he'd noticed, especially when he was about to go off duty. Spock,
however, didn't seem to be in any hurry to provide him with any more
information.

"Spock, you're the first officer--the handling of the crew falls under
your purview," McCoy said, shaking his head. "Why ask me? I'm a
doctor, not a human resources counselor.  If you need advice on how to
deal with a member of your department, you should take it up with the
Captain."

"I believe you are better suited," Spock said insistently. "For one
thing, as a physician, you may be more impartial than the Captain
regarding this recent addition."

McCoy rolled his eyes and  wondered which of the yeomen had caught the
captain's eye now. They had  taken on several brand-new crew members
at Starbase 86 a little over three weeks ago, including an unusually
large number of well-endowed females with improbably big hair. *And I
was so sure our troubles were over when Rand finally took a hint and
applied for a transfer...* he thought. "Who is it?" McCoy said aloud.

"Ensign Chekov."

"Who?" For a moment, the name didn't register. Or rather it did, but
not matched up with a mini-skirt. "Oh, wait, I know him. Little guy
with big brown eyes, heavy bangs, heavy accent, walks kind of hunched
over?"

"That is the one." 

Across the room, M'Benga glanced in McCoy's direction, frowned, then
gestured to a nurse. McCoy started edging toward the door, inwardly
cursing Spock for delaying his escape.

"What about Chekov?" McCoy said, keeping a sharp look-out for any
sudden moves on M'Benga's part.

"Have you noticed anything unusual about him?"

"Other than he's a little hairier than the average recruit--and I
can't imagine that haircut's regulation, makes him look like a
monkey--no, I haven't. He seems perfectly ordinary."

"Perhaps you are unfamiliar with his background. Pavel Chekov was the
son of wealthy if eccentric Russians, who could trace their lineage
back to Peter the Great. They were killed in an unfortunate accident
20.3 Standard years ago when their space yacht crashed in a remote
jungle on Tyree's Planet during a freak ion storm. The boy, who was
approximately two years old at the time, somehow survived and was
raised--"

"--by a troop of wild mugato until he was 18," finished McCoy, not
bothering to conceal his rising impatience. "Yes, I know. It's in his
file."

"That does not strike you as cause for concern?"

"He's had all his shots," McCoy said, brushing past Spock and heading
off down the corridor. He was damned if he was going to stand around
here any longer. "I made sure of that first thing when he came on
board. But I take it there's something about him that concerns you?"

"I find his behavior disturbing—behavior which I believe is directly
related to his background," Spock said, following McCoy into the
turbolift. "How Starfleet thought he would be a suitable candidate--"

"Deck Four," McCoy said loudly, and leaned back against the wall as
the 'lift began to move. "May I remind you Chekov made it through the
Academy." He cocked a challenging eyebrow at Spock. "Or are you
getting all 'humanoidist' on me? Mugato are a lot more intelligent
than you think--"

"I am not disputing their intelligence, nor that of the Ensign."

McCoy sighed. No, as a Vulcan, Spock wouldn't openly display any
prejudice. Except maybe toward Humans. *Those blasted Vulcans and
their high falutin' superiority complexes!*

"You are the only person I can turn to," Spock said, staring at a
point on the wall above McCoy's head. "Whether because of the
connection to Tyree, or for some other unknown reason, it is clear the
Captain has taken a personal interest in the young man. "

McCoy nodded ruefully. Kirk *had* been observed on more than one
occasion wrestling with Chekov in the gym, or else inviting him to
drop by his quarters after shift for some 'special command tips'.

McCoy motioned to Spock to exit ahead of him as the turbolift halted.
"Why don't you just tell me what's bothering you about our Mr.
Chekov."

"He screeches."

"Screeches? What do you mean?"

"During tense situations on the bridge, the Ensign emits certain high
pitched noises. During full blown crises, he emits what can only be
described as a primal scream."

"Being afraid is a healthy, human response to danger, Spock." McCoy
snorted. "Lots of people yelp when they're frightened. Good way of
letting off some of the nervous tension, keeps you from freezing at
the wrong moment. Heck, I've heard Sulu let out a squawk on occasion,
and even though Uhura keeps her voice down, there's no doubt
whatsoever when *she's* frightened. Besides, I've been on the bridge
recently. Chekov's screams aren't *that* bad."

"Vulcans have a more sensitive hearing apparatus than Humans."

McCoy decided to let that one go. "What else?"

"As you are aware, Ensign Chekov frequently takes over at the science
station for me. Afterward, I am always aware of a heavy musky odor
that takes hours to dissipate."

"You're saying he smells?" McCoy asked incredulously. "I haven't heard
anyone else complain."

"Vulcans have a keener sense of smell than Humans."

McCoy rolled his eyes. "I think you're making way too much of this,
Spock," he said. Which was a polite way of saying he considered the
whole business to be a load of corbomite. Funny, he'd never figured
Spock for such a nit-picker. "Well, if it bothers you, why don't you
say something to him?"

"I did."

"You did?"

"Not about the screeching, but I suggested he be more scrupulous in
his attentions to personal hygiene."

"How did he respond?" McCoy said curiously. "Was he offended?"

"At first he appeared puzzled, as if he did not understand my meaning.
So I elaborated he needed to bathe. Lest he be
hydrophobic--considering his upbringing, after all--I told him that
many humanoids, myself included, deemed showering a most pleasurable
activity."

"Then what happened?"

"He put his hand on my shoulder and bared his..." Spock paused.
"Canines."

"Bared his canines?" McCoy said, bewildered.

"In a most feral manner."

"Feral? He threatened you?"

"I do not believe his intentions were hostile. On the contrary, he
seemed rather...friendly." Spock paused again, a hint of discomfort on
his usually impassive face. "I have often had difficulties when it
comes to interpreting Human behavior, and I am hesitant of becoming
involved in a 'misunderstanding',  particularly with someone who
reports to me."

McCoy closed his eyes, remembering an earlier 'misunderstanding'
involving Spock and a member of the crew. Well, Chapel had eventually
calmed down and admitted she was in the wrong, as a Vulcan would have
no idea such a move on her part wasn't intended as an act of
aggression...Forcing his thoughts back to the present situation, McCoy
said, "Would you like me to talk to him for you?"

Spock nodded. "I would be most grateful, Doctor."

They had reached McCoy's door. "Tell you what I'll do," McCoy said,
hoping this would get rid of Spock. "First thing tomorrow morning,
I'll call Chekov into Sickbay for a routine--"

A high pitched shriek echoed down the corridor--from the direction of
Nurse Chapel's quarters. McCoy and Spock glanced at each other, and
then broke into a run.

McCoy pounded on the locked door. "Christine, are you all right?"

There was no answer except for a dull thud, followed by another
scream.

McCoy said, "Computer, emergency medical over--" He stopped when he
saw Spock place his hand on the keypad and the door open instantly at
his touch. "How'd you do that?"

Spock cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Apparently, the pad has been
keyed to my fingerprints."

McCoy decided he'd think about that revelation later. He strode into
the cabin, Spock on his heels. "Christine!"

The bathroom door burst open, emitting a cloud of steam and a dripping
Chapel, clutching a skimpy towel that left bare much more than it
covered.

Spock turned a pale shade of green and turned away hastily. "I beg
your pardon, Miss Chapel, but it sounded as though you were in
distress--"

"Distress? I'll give you distress!" she screamed. The towel wavered
precariously as her chest heaved with the force of her cries. "I was
having a nice leisurely soak when *he* just jumped in the tub with
me!" She pointed an accusing finger.

"He, who?" McCoy asked. But Chapel was too distraught to answer.

Seeing no other option, McCoy stepped over the slippery threshold into
the bathroom. The overpowing scent of peach bubble bath immediately
assaulted his nostrils. Puddles of water covered every surface, even
dripping down the walls. An upended crystal bottle dribbled a thick
stream of more scented oils into a dark orange pool on the floor a few
inches from his foot. In the billowing steam, McCoy could just make
out a figure sitting upright in the bathtub.

"Hello there!" Chekov called, bouncing up from the tub at the sight of
the two new visitors. His movement caused even more water to splash
over the side of the tub and onto the bathroom floor; McCoy and Spock
narrowly avoided getting drenched. "Vould you like to join us? Plenty
of room for all!" A few bubbles still clung to the top of Chekov's
head, as well as some on his chest -- which was thickly matted with
hair.

Chapel screamed again. 

"Nurse, would you mind stopping that?" McCoy asked. He was relieved
when she took a deep shuddering breath but didn't make any other
sounds. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I am!" she shrieked. McCoy winced. Spock actually put his
hands over his ears. "Just get that ape-man out of my bath!"

Chekov started climbing out at once, a puzzled look on his face. "Is
there a problem?"

"Yes!" Chapel's face was turning an interesting shade of purple. "Get
out!"

McCoy grabbed Chekov's arm and hustled him out of the bathroom,
leaving Spock to cope (or not) with Chapel. "Son, would you mind
telling me what in the sam hill you were doing in there?" he said
sternly, as he handed the dripping ensign a towel.

Chekov's expression faltered. "I was just listening to vat the
Commander told me!" he said with a sniffle that threatened to become a
sob.

"Spock told you to do this? To invade Nurse Chapel's, er, privacy?"

"I assure you I did no such thing," Spock said, emerging hastily from
the bathroom.

"You told me to take a bath!" Chekov insisted.

"I meant *alone*," Spock said icily.

"Then why did you tell me how much you and your friends enjoyed the
water?" Chekov asked. "Didn't you mean for me to join you?"

Spock was rendered momentarily speechless.

"Now, Davy," McCoy said, gently but firmly as he gathered up Chekov's
discarded shirt and pants and thrust them into his arms. "I'm sure
this was all a misunderstanding. Spock clearly didn't mean--"

"Yes, he did," interrupted Chekov. "Believe me, I vas there. And who
is this Davy? My name is Pavel. Pavel Andreievich Chekov, the only son
of Irina Greystrokovsky and Andrei Chekov. "

"Yes, of course," McCoy said hastily. "Sorry, but you just look like a
Davy."

"I meant no harm. I vas just so lonely," Chekov said sadly. "Back
home, I vas never alone, always surrounded by friends. Here, I have no
one--"

"What about the Captain?" McCoy asked.  "He's, uh, been showing an
interest in you."

"Tonight he is giving 'command tips' to Yeoman Buxom."

McCoy thought quickly, trying to put a face to the name. "Yeah, well,
I can see that," he muttered.

"You still have not explained why you invaded Nurse Chapel's
quarters," Spock said.

"When I saw her face, I believed—that is, Jane looked so pretty and
nice--"

"Jane?" McCoy asked.

"The nurse."

"Her name is Christine."

"Really?" Chekov said in astonishment. "I could have sworn her name
vas Jane. She looks just like a young voman I once met, who had gotten
lost in my mugato troop's part of the jungle--"

McCoy interrupted. "That's very interesting, I'm sure."

"And ve vere having so much fun together! She screamed, I screamed, we
all screamed for--"

"Nurse Chapel," Spock said, acknowledging her entrance. A look of
relief appeared on his face when he saw she'd put on a terrycloth
robe. "You seem re-clothed, that is, recovered from your ordeal."

"I'm all right, thank you," Chapel said. She laid her head on his
shoulder. "But it's sweet of you to ask. Almost as sweet as it was of
you to rush so gallantly to my rescue."

Spock cleared his throat. "Uh, yes. Do you wish to call Security?"

"No, that won't be necessary." Chapel snuggled deeper against Spock's
chest. The momentum of her thrust forced them both to fall back on to
the couch.

"Well, if you won't be pressing formal charges, I think I'll just
escort Ensign Chekov back to his own quarters," McCoy said, hastily
averting his eyes from the couple sprawled in each other's arms.

"I will assist you," Spock said with alacrity. He attempted to get up.

"No, don't go!" Chapel said, holding his arm tightly. "I think feel a
bit faint after all. I'd *really* appreciate it if you could keep me
company a while longer." She smiled and batted her lashes.

"But Doctor McCoy clearly requires--"

"I can manage just fine without you," McCoy said with a grin. 

"Are you quite certain?" The look on Spock's face was priceless. 

"Very sure." McCoy steered Chekov toward the door. "Have a good
evening, you two. And remember, no monkey business!"

As the door closed, Chekov said, "What is this monkey business? It
sounds like fun!"

"I think you've had enough fun for one night," McCoy said firmly.  

"Then vat should I do?" Chekov looked distraught again.

McCoy thought fast. "Why don't you head back to your cabin, take a
nice calming bath--no, I mean, listen to some nice music and relax?"

"That sounds like a vonderful idea," Chekov said, perking up once
more. "The greatest composers were all Russian, you know."

"I'm sure they were," McCoy said soothingly as they headed toward the
'lift. "I'm sure they were."

The red alert klaxons sounded.

"I must get to the bridge!" Chekov shouted and tore down the hall,
scattering a few stray bubbles as he went.

"Just what I needed," McCoy groaned, but then resignedly headed for
the turbolift. "The perfect end to a perfect evening."

As he passed by Spock's quarters, the door opened.

"Dr. McCoy," the Vulcan hissed.

"Spock? I thought you were with Christine!"

"I took advantage of the red alert to make my escape. Nurse Chapel is
on her way to Sickbay."

"Which is where I should be heading myself," McCoy said. He stopped.
"What are you doing in your cabin? Don't you need to get to the
bridge?"

"It was not an authentic red alert," Spock said meaningfully.

McCoy's appreciation for Spock's cleverness went up a few notches.
"Why, you pointy-eared devil, you!"

"I fail to see what my ears or some ancient Terran symbol of evil have
to do with the matter at hand, Doctor."

"Never mind." McCoy turned to go when another thought struck him. "But
what will you do when Chapel realizes there was no alert?"

Spock gave him a superior look. "By then I shall be securely locked in
my quarters."

"That sounds like an excellent idea," McCoy said, and headed off to do
the same before anything else happened.

FINIS

--
Stephen Ratliff
ASC Awards Tech Support

http://www.trekiverse.us/ASCAwards/commenting/

No Tribbles were harmed in the running of these Awards

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