A problem of physics, Chekov/SpockPrime, PG-13ish
Hey All!
Blame http://calicokat.livejournal.com, she's the one!
A problem of physics, SpockPrime/Chekov
noein9
Spock was amazed, really.
For all the horror, all the uncertainty, there were constants that proved themselves in all diverse and wonderful ways.
When the Enterprise made orbit over Planet Gamma 4- referred to as New Vulcan, although, Vulcans, being Vulcan, did not see it as a new anything, merely an Undiscovered Country- Spock had a chance to meet Sulu, so warm and intelligent, and Uhura, who was so very, very beautiful, and reminded him of so long ago, when there was, for a time, a real passion there, expressed only in lyre plucking and song and furtive glances at each other.
For a time.
And Chekov, so very young, tenderly young with curls and wide, soft eyes and that strange, stuttering accent, one that would initially annoy him ( and his young Counterpart; he had to remind him that being the son of a Pacific Northwest Yankee blueblood linguist and a skilled computer scientist cum politician gave him advantages in English that very few people on Earth, let alone Russia, could have) and then would charm him, as he came to understood why Chekov’s accent remained so prominent, so thick.
Chekov, in his time, thought about numbers, and geometry, and atmospherics, and string theory, all in his native tongue, all in the ways that Russian, as a language postulated to him. He had to continuously slow down his thoughts, just barely, to be able to speak, to communicate his thoughts. The very act of slowing his thoughts twisted his tongue, made all the consonants and vowels run into each other, made unnecessary adjectives drop. With his thoughts slowed to syrup, Chekov could finally communicate the lighting fast ideas in his mind.
Once, in that other time, Spock offered, over tea and vodka and blini and cremé fraiche, the chance to not slow his thoughts. To communicate his ideas faster than light, to bend time and space like warp while sharing his thoughts, without eyerolls or snickers and condescending re-pronunciations of words Chekov already knew- or invented on the spot.
In his time, that other time, Chekov agree.
And that was for a time, then.
And now, though that time was in the past - his past- here was Chekov, younger, but still with thoughts that raced, faster than light, branching off into infinite possibilities. How wonderful it would be, to once again guide that mind in a way that his Counterpart was emotionally not able to yet.
Spock took Chekov to one of the beautiful islands on Gamma 4, where there were soft lapping waves and one could smell the mineral rich air.
They talked, and when Spock offered, shyly, the chance to not speak, bit to simply think, simply feel the thoughts as pure light.
Chekov smiled, and took his hand.
And offered, not like his counterpart so long ago, to feel his flesh, Elder that he was, tripping through time and space, that the fundamentals of love, of discovery, of the understanding lay first with joined hands, parted lips, gentle gasps and deep, soft caresses.
After, Pavel- for after sharing thought and flesh, first name basis was proper- traced his fingers through his chest hair, and kissed his nipple.
"The problem with physics, sir, is the relationships. We can postulate a formula, and try to correlate. But- here is thing: We are so interrelated, are we not? Light and mass and velocity and chance. And time. All interrelated, and all the threads find each other, in the end?
Spock turned down to him, and gave a kiss to Pavel's curls. He hoped he would never relax them.
"Yes."
Spock held Pavel, and looked at the shining dot that was the Enterprise circling the planet.
For this time, for this moment, there were new branches of discovery.
Like I said, blame calicokat. I do.
Blame http://calicokat.livejournal.com, she's the one!
A problem of physics, SpockPrime/Chekov
noein9
Spock was amazed, really.
For all the horror, all the uncertainty, there were constants that proved themselves in all diverse and wonderful ways.
When the Enterprise made orbit over Planet Gamma 4- referred to as New Vulcan, although, Vulcans, being Vulcan, did not see it as a new anything, merely an Undiscovered Country- Spock had a chance to meet Sulu, so warm and intelligent, and Uhura, who was so very, very beautiful, and reminded him of so long ago, when there was, for a time, a real passion there, expressed only in lyre plucking and song and furtive glances at each other.
For a time.
And Chekov, so very young, tenderly young with curls and wide, soft eyes and that strange, stuttering accent, one that would initially annoy him ( and his young Counterpart; he had to remind him that being the son of a Pacific Northwest Yankee blueblood linguist and a skilled computer scientist cum politician gave him advantages in English that very few people on Earth, let alone Russia, could have) and then would charm him, as he came to understood why Chekov’s accent remained so prominent, so thick.
Chekov, in his time, thought about numbers, and geometry, and atmospherics, and string theory, all in his native tongue, all in the ways that Russian, as a language postulated to him. He had to continuously slow down his thoughts, just barely, to be able to speak, to communicate his thoughts. The very act of slowing his thoughts twisted his tongue, made all the consonants and vowels run into each other, made unnecessary adjectives drop. With his thoughts slowed to syrup, Chekov could finally communicate the lighting fast ideas in his mind.
Once, in that other time, Spock offered, over tea and vodka and blini and cremé fraiche, the chance to not slow his thoughts. To communicate his ideas faster than light, to bend time and space like warp while sharing his thoughts, without eyerolls or snickers and condescending re-pronunciations of words Chekov already knew- or invented on the spot.
In his time, that other time, Chekov agree.
And that was for a time, then.
And now, though that time was in the past - his past- here was Chekov, younger, but still with thoughts that raced, faster than light, branching off into infinite possibilities. How wonderful it would be, to once again guide that mind in a way that his Counterpart was emotionally not able to yet.
Spock took Chekov to one of the beautiful islands on Gamma 4, where there were soft lapping waves and one could smell the mineral rich air.
They talked, and when Spock offered, shyly, the chance to not speak, bit to simply think, simply feel the thoughts as pure light.
Chekov smiled, and took his hand.
And offered, not like his counterpart so long ago, to feel his flesh, Elder that he was, tripping through time and space, that the fundamentals of love, of discovery, of the understanding lay first with joined hands, parted lips, gentle gasps and deep, soft caresses.
After, Pavel- for after sharing thought and flesh, first name basis was proper- traced his fingers through his chest hair, and kissed his nipple.
"The problem with physics, sir, is the relationships. We can postulate a formula, and try to correlate. But- here is thing: We are so interrelated, are we not? Light and mass and velocity and chance. And time. All interrelated, and all the threads find each other, in the end?
Spock turned down to him, and gave a kiss to Pavel's curls. He hoped he would never relax them.
"Yes."
Spock held Pavel, and looked at the shining dot that was the Enterprise circling the planet.
For this time, for this moment, there were new branches of discovery.
Like I said, blame calicokat. I do.