The Search for Socks
Title: The Search for Socks
Author: jessofthebugs
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to bust out the Shakespeare for this. This story is mine, the characters and setting, not so much.
Pairing: Chekov/Sulu, hinted-at Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Rating: All ages
Type: Oneshot
Warnings: Crack. And a bit of Fluff.
Word Count: 712
Summary and Notes: Something goes wrong with ship's laundry. Suggested viewing: The Search for Spock. Archived at awfully_clever
Sulu stretched out across the bed, reading and happened to glance down at the hem of Chekov's pants. Not only were the hems of his pants a little higher than usual, but he was wearing two completely different socks, one purple with yellow stars and one plain white. "Uh... Tigger?"
"Da?" He worked on some problem at their little desk and listened without looking up from his work, a blue glow illuminating his face as he pursed his lips and furrowed his brow in concentration. This was his very serious business look.
And Sulu thought it to be the most adorable thing since the invention of the chibi. "I think you've grown," he grinned, "and your socks don't match."
"They do not?" He blinked a couple times and looked at his feet, eyes wide, "Hikaru, these are not evwen mine! I do not own purple ones!"
"You don't?"
"No, only black ones so I do not have to think about matching them." He propped the purple socked foot on his knee and examined it. "Are they yours?" he asked in disbelief.
"No! I thought they were yours!" Sulu pawed through his sock drawer and found that not only were half of them mismatched, but none of them were his. He opened Chekov's sock drawer, paused for a moment at the stack of pornography, and pulled out all the socks. Clearly, there was something amiss in the ship's laundry. Everything went into the laundry bag and once they were both shod and presentable, they made their way down to ship's laundry.
The hallways were filled with crewmen and officers alike, all exchanging socks or examining pairs or individuals to determine ownership. Riley created a static force on one wall where crewmen were putting up unmatched socks or comparing loners. Chekov and Sulu just shrugged at one another and continued toward ship's laundry.
"I believe you have something that belongs to me, Doctor." Spock held an empty basket and indicated McCoy's overfull bag with a slight nod of the head.
McCoy peered into his laundry bag, "I've got all of mine, but yours are in here, too. They're all mixed up, so we'll have to sort them out carefully." They sat down, taking each pair out and sorting them, "Mine...Mine... These have got to be yours... Who's are these?"
"Jim's. They must have... been mixed in with mine." Sulu thought he looked a little on the guilty side of deadpan.
"Right," McCoy grumbled, eyebrow raised in disbelief.
They continued on, Chekov weaving through the crowds and Sulu following with their sack of socks. They found Scotty and Keenser working hard at a control panel, "Get out o' there! That's not for sleeping in, those are the dirties for cryin' out loud! Ye wouldnae want to lay yer head on the Cap'n's filthy skivvies, wouljda? Now get out o' there an' hand me that spanner."
"Ew." Keenser hopped out of the basket and handed a tool to Scotty.
"If you don't mind me asking, Scotty," Sulu poked his head around the open access panel where Scotty lay on his back, squinting at some circuitry, "but what's the deal with the socks?"
"Malfunction in the tracking programming. Each sock has a wee tracking device on it that keeps it paired with its mate and makes sure it goes to the proper owner." He continued banging and cursing. "Somethings out of alignment or off polarity. I havenae figured it out yet, so if ye'll leave yer dirties and go on, I'll have it fixed as soon as I can."
"Kirk to Scott."
"Scott here. I'm a wee bit busy, Cap'n."
"I want this fixed today, Scotty! We're meeting the ambassador in five hours!" Kirk's voice was urgent, but not angry.
"I'm givin' 'er all she's got. I'll need at least eight to calibrate the-"
"Do it in two, Scotty. I won't have my ship flying apart at the seams while we search for socks. Kirk out." The comm clicked off and Scotty mumbled something under his breath.
Sulu set down the laundry bag and they walked hand in hand back to their quarters. He looked up into Chekov's big blue eyes, suddenly noticing that he was looking a little farther up than usual. "I think you have gotten taller!"
Author: jessofthebugs
Disclaimer: I'm not even going to bust out the Shakespeare for this. This story is mine, the characters and setting, not so much.
Pairing: Chekov/Sulu, hinted-at Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Rating: All ages
Type: Oneshot
Warnings: Crack. And a bit of Fluff.
Word Count: 712
Summary and Notes: Something goes wrong with ship's laundry. Suggested viewing: The Search for Spock. Archived at awfully_clever
Sulu stretched out across the bed, reading and happened to glance down at the hem of Chekov's pants. Not only were the hems of his pants a little higher than usual, but he was wearing two completely different socks, one purple with yellow stars and one plain white. "Uh... Tigger?"
"Da?" He worked on some problem at their little desk and listened without looking up from his work, a blue glow illuminating his face as he pursed his lips and furrowed his brow in concentration. This was his very serious business look.
And Sulu thought it to be the most adorable thing since the invention of the chibi. "I think you've grown," he grinned, "and your socks don't match."
"They do not?" He blinked a couple times and looked at his feet, eyes wide, "Hikaru, these are not evwen mine! I do not own purple ones!"
"You don't?"
"No, only black ones so I do not have to think about matching them." He propped the purple socked foot on his knee and examined it. "Are they yours?" he asked in disbelief.
"No! I thought they were yours!" Sulu pawed through his sock drawer and found that not only were half of them mismatched, but none of them were his. He opened Chekov's sock drawer, paused for a moment at the stack of pornography, and pulled out all the socks. Clearly, there was something amiss in the ship's laundry. Everything went into the laundry bag and once they were both shod and presentable, they made their way down to ship's laundry.
The hallways were filled with crewmen and officers alike, all exchanging socks or examining pairs or individuals to determine ownership. Riley created a static force on one wall where crewmen were putting up unmatched socks or comparing loners. Chekov and Sulu just shrugged at one another and continued toward ship's laundry.
"I believe you have something that belongs to me, Doctor." Spock held an empty basket and indicated McCoy's overfull bag with a slight nod of the head.
McCoy peered into his laundry bag, "I've got all of mine, but yours are in here, too. They're all mixed up, so we'll have to sort them out carefully." They sat down, taking each pair out and sorting them, "Mine...Mine... These have got to be yours... Who's are these?"
"Jim's. They must have... been mixed in with mine." Sulu thought he looked a little on the guilty side of deadpan.
"Right," McCoy grumbled, eyebrow raised in disbelief.
They continued on, Chekov weaving through the crowds and Sulu following with their sack of socks. They found Scotty and Keenser working hard at a control panel, "Get out o' there! That's not for sleeping in, those are the dirties for cryin' out loud! Ye wouldnae want to lay yer head on the Cap'n's filthy skivvies, wouljda? Now get out o' there an' hand me that spanner."
"Ew." Keenser hopped out of the basket and handed a tool to Scotty.
"If you don't mind me asking, Scotty," Sulu poked his head around the open access panel where Scotty lay on his back, squinting at some circuitry, "but what's the deal with the socks?"
"Malfunction in the tracking programming. Each sock has a wee tracking device on it that keeps it paired with its mate and makes sure it goes to the proper owner." He continued banging and cursing. "Somethings out of alignment or off polarity. I havenae figured it out yet, so if ye'll leave yer dirties and go on, I'll have it fixed as soon as I can."
"Kirk to Scott."
"Scott here. I'm a wee bit busy, Cap'n."
"I want this fixed today, Scotty! We're meeting the ambassador in five hours!" Kirk's voice was urgent, but not angry.
"I'm givin' 'er all she's got. I'll need at least eight to calibrate the-"
"Do it in two, Scotty. I won't have my ship flying apart at the seams while we search for socks. Kirk out." The comm clicked off and Scotty mumbled something under his breath.
Sulu set down the laundry bag and they walked hand in hand back to their quarters. He looked up into Chekov's big blue eyes, suddenly noticing that he was looking a little farther up than usual. "I think you have gotten taller!"