Fic: Kitchen Consequential (6/18)
Jan. 14th, 2010 06:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
withthepilotTitle: Kitchen Consequential (6/18)
Rating: R for references to sex, language
Word count: 3,770
Pairings/Characters: Sulu/Chekov, referenced Sulu/Gaila, Gaila/OMC, Uhura, Spock, McCoy, Kirk, Riley, Rand
Disclaimer: Do not own or claim to own.
Warnings: AU set in New York City, 2009, with flashbacks to five years prior. Many references to the ST: XI canon. References to het.
Summary: All paths lead to the kitchen for the staff members of Enterprise, the newest critical darling on the New York restaurant scene. It's here that they come together as a team and find out just where they belong. Chapter 6: Hikaru's day gets off to a predictable start, thanks to his bubbly, sexed-up roommate; then the evening takes an unexpected turn.
For a comprehensive list of series pairings, links to prior chapters and author notes, please visit the master post.
Hikaru wakes with a start when a loud crash rings out in the bathroom, which is inconveniently located right across from his bedroom. He reaches out blindly, as if to grab a baseball bat that isn't there and jump into action.
"Sorry!" a voice calls out. Gaila, his roommate. He groans and flops back onto his bed.
"Damn, Gaila, I was having such a nice dream, too." He turns his head and squints blearily at his alarm clock, groaning again. "I don't even have to wake up for another hour."
"I know, but I'm late!"
Gaila runs by his door, which is slightly ajar, dressed only in a towel, her red hair trailing behind her in a tangled, fiery mass. He can guess well enough that she's probably dripped all over the hardwood floor of their hallway. The reason she's late is also fairly predictable; if he listens closely, he can hear her frantically trying to usher someone out of the apartment, someone with a distinctly male voice. Figures that's why her bedroom door was shut when he got home last night. They often travel home from the restaurant together but he had to stay late last night doing prep work for today, and then wound up falling asleep on the train and getting lost, of all things. If not for that friendly guy he ran into on the street, he might still be roaming around Rego Park.
He blinks when the thought crosses his mind that his nice dream might very well have been about that helpful stranger. Of course, he can't recall a face now.
The front door slams shut in the distance and a moment later, Gaila reappears in his doorway, cringing. "I'm really sorry, Karu. I know you get to go in later today; I didn't mean to totally ruin your sleep."
"S'okay, G." Hikaru waves a hand at her and then runs it through his hair, which he imagines is standing on end as it usually is after a night's sleep. "You have fun last night?"
She grins impishly, shrugging a shoulder. "Let's just say one of the patrons wanted to give his compliments to the chef." She giggles as Hikaru smirks, but then just as quickly turns her nose up. "He was so clingy, though; I had to practically throw him out. And he snored all night."
"Deal-breaker," he says, nodding. He tilts his head curiously. "I thought you were late?"
"I am! Here, hold on."
Gaila goes rushing out of the room again and returns about thirty seconds later with an armful of clothes, throwing them on the bed and pulling off her towel, getting dressed right in front of him. Hikaru laughs and lays back, his arms folded behind his head. She does this more often than would seem normal to most people, but he doesn't mind at all—it's nothing he hasn't seen before. He knew all about Gaila's ways even before he moved from San Francisco to New York, thanks to Kevin Riley, his old buddy from high school who moved to the East coast after graduation to pursue a culinary degree. Riley knew Gaila from Starfleet Academy and when Hikaru decided to move to New York on a whim after six months of sitting around in his hometown, post-college with useless biology degree in hand (useless in the sense that he didn't relish the idea of pursuing a doctorate, as much as he loved his botany concentration), he wrote to his old friend and asked if he knew someone looking for a roommate. Gaila was the first name to come up.
"She's a little crazy, though," Riley said, over the phone. "Just one of those women who oozes sex. I wouldn't be surprised if you sleep with her the first time you meet her."
"You're exaggerating, man," Hikaru replied, laughing.
Then, of course, he got to New York and crashed with Riley for a week, met Gaila for a drink and promptly slept with her. There was just something irresistible about her, some sort of devastating charm that she radiated. And it was good sex, but the connection wasn't exactly there. He rolled onto the mattress after they were done and stared up at the ceiling, ready to dive head first into a panic over the awkward conversation that was sure to ensue. But then Gaila turned onto her side, smiled at him and said, "So, you're not a vegetarian, are you? Because I won't stand for that sort of thing in my apartment."
To this day, they've remained both roommates and best friends.
Gaila fastens the clasp on her bra and then pulls on her blouse, sweeping her bright red curls out from the collar. "So, was last night okay? Or did it take forever?"
"It took forever," Hikaru replies, muffling a yawn into his hand. "Then I friggin' fell asleep on the train—the wrong train—and woke up in Rego Park."
"You're kidding." Gaila laughs in surprise, shimmying into her skirt and tucking her blouse into the waistband. "I don't even know where that is. Did you take a cab back?"
"I was going to, but then I ran into this guy who told me how to get back here by train. I was walking down the street, trying to figure out where the hell I was, and I just ran right into him. He was really helpful."
"Cute?" Gaila asks, grinning brightly. Hikaru laughs faintly, nodding.
"Ah...yeah, actually. Very cute."
She nudges his knee. "Well, did you get a number?"
"No," he says, his face falling. "I didn't even get a name."
"Faaaaail," Gaila drawls. She looks in the mirror and tousles her hair, tossing him a severe look over her shoulder. "See, this is why you never get dates, Karu. You're always letting these golden opportunities pass you by. Zoooom," she says, moving her hand through the air in an airplane motion. Hikaru runs a hand over his face and huffs.
"We can't all be as freewheeling and sexually liberated as you, G. He was just some random dude on the street."
"Well, you should be! How else are you going to meet people in this city? We're all so immersed in our own little worlds, racing by each other at the speed of light. If we don't make an effort to crash into each other," and she smacks her hands together in a colliding gesture, "then we'll never get to connect with anyone."
Hikaru shuts his eyes, pressing his cheek to his pillow. "Mmm. And you call an endless string of one-night stands 'connecting' with people?"
"Yes," Gaila says curtly. Then she smacks Hikaru's bare thigh, hard, making him jerk with a shout. "Dickweed."
"That fucking hurt!" he protests, rubbing the already red mark on his thigh.
"See? We connected. My hand and your leg." She leans down and kisses his cheek, as if to make up for the smack, and then walks to his doorway, waving to him and sing-songing sweetly. "See you at work!"
Hikaru grunts and pulls the covers up, turning onto his side. He peers one more time at the clock and wonders if he can manage to get in another half-hour of sleep. After fifteen minutes, he gives up and pulls himself out of bed, going to the kitchen to make himself a grilled cheese sandwich. He makes sure to use a lot of Gaila's fancy, organic cheddar.
*
He stills feels groggy when he gets to Enterprise, but he knows he'll liven up once he's inside and has things to do. When he walks through the glass doors, Spock is standing at his podium by the reception area and he looks up, regarding Hikaru with a single nod. He nods back, waving a hand in a half-salute.
"Afternoon, Spock."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Sulu. If I could have a moment of your time..." He steps out from behind the podium, hands clasped behind his back in his usual slightly sterile manner. Hikaru pauses in his stride and shrugs.
"Sure thing. What's up?"
"Chef Kirk has asked me to inform you that a new commis will be joining our kitchen staff tonight. He will be working under Chef Uhura." Spock lifts his brow slightly, and it occurs to Hikaru that he must be thinking of a way to convey Kirk's message politely. "Chef Kirk has predicted that tonight's service is at risk of disruption, due to a new pair of hands in the kitchen, and he suggested I prepare you in advance for such an outcome."
Hikaru blinks, laughing after a moment. "So, basically, Kirk thinks someone's eyebrows are gonna get singed off."
"Something of that nature, yes," Spock says, quirking a very subtle smile. "The young man seems very intelligent and capable, however. His name is Pavel Chekov."
"Okay, cool. What is that, Russian?" He scratches his head, having a quick flashback to the boy from the night before. He had an accent; was that Russian?
"I believe so, yes." Spock moves back to his podium and his book full of notes written in his impeccable penmanship. "Are you well today, Mr. Sulu?"
"Yeah, just tired after last night. Hey, did Gaila make it here in time?"
"I believe Chef Gaila was punctual this afternoon." He looks down and writes something in his book, arching one of his severe eyebrows. "Barely."
"Sounds about right," Hikaru says, smirking. "Thanks for the info. And see you in a bit." He nods and waves again to Spock, heading toward the dining room. The maitre d' simply nods in return, granting him a small, courteous bow.
The dinner service is just getting started when a familiar cloud of perfume swirls around him, and he doesn't have to look up from his final prep work to know that Gaila's standing beside him. "Oh, my god. The new chef is so cute, Karu. Like, ridiculously adorable. I want to pinch his cheeks and let him go down on me."
Hikaru rolls his eyes, looking up at her with a vague smile. "What makes you think he'd want to?"
"Doesn't everyone?" she replies, looking every bit the wide-eyed, earnest little girl. But then she grins fiercely and gives herself away, and they're both laughing. "No, but really. You have to come and see him at some point."
"Sure thing. When I'm not busting my ass in the dining room and making sure all the other servers are busting theirs equally."
"You're such an ass-buster. That's kind of hot. We should make a personal ad for you tonight on Match.com and say your nickname is 'The Ass-Buster.'"
"Damn it, G. Go roast a pig or something."
"I was just going to," she says, rolling her eyes dramatically and walking away.
The service itself goes pretty well; they've got a good amount of patrons and the tips are decent, and all of the servers on the schedule for tonight are actually present. Hikaru thinks after about two hours that he hasn't heard about any fracas or ruckus in the kitchen, so the new guy must be holding his own. Either that, or McCoy has got him in a stranglehold and the poor dude is too busy choking to scream for help. He's been too busy to communicate with anyone in the kitchen aside from Janice and Kirk, so he hasn't been able to take a look at the newbie, as Gaila so furtively suggested. If she's got her sights set on the guy, though, it doesn't really matter what he thinks, anyway. He learned that the hard way, long ago. And she doesn't even do it on purpose, so he can't ever be annoyed with her. Damn Gaila.
Another half hour later and one of his diners calls him over, suggesting that his meal is over-salted. Hikaru apologizes, as he's meant to do, and brings the offending plate back to the kitchen, handing it over to Janice Rand, their intrepid expediter, with a shrug.
"The guy says it's too salty. Can we get a fresh one?" he asks. Janice nods and brings the plate to Uhura.
"Uhura, we've got a salt issue," Janice says, causing Uhura to look up from her work. Hikaru watches her grab a spoon and take a taste, and then idly looks around the busy kitchen to see if he can spot this Chekov guy. No one but the usual suspects. Uhura gets his attention again when she throws her spoon down and flicks her ponytail. That's never a good sign.
"Oh, hell no. This shit is trifling. That's not too salty at all."
"Then I guess he wants it bland," Janice says. Uhura groans and takes the plate back, shaking her head.
"Peons," she mutters, then calls back behind her. "Chekov, where's that asparagus?"
Just then, a lanky, curly-haired guy comes running in from the other room, carrying a tray of asparagus, ready to be seasoned and sautéed. Hikaru takes one look at him and freezes in surprise when he sees it's the same guy from the street, the one who told him how to get back home from Rego Park. What are the chances? Chekov looks up and makes eye contact with him, and it's probably a big surprise to him, too, because he proceeds to walk into a table and trip over himself, falling forward, asparagus and all. And, unfortunately for Chekov, he bumps into McCoy along the way, nearly bringing him down with him.
"Goddamn it! JIM!" McCoy yells, and Kirk comes running over, bending to help poor Chekov up while the sous chef waves his arms around angrily. "The kid just ruined two damn pounds of asparagus in one fell swoop!"
"Yeah, I see that, Bones. Chill out. You okay, Checkers?"
Kirk helps to dust Chekov off and McCoy keeps ranting about how they're not being paid to supervise a playground or something, but Chekov doesn't seem to hear, instead blushing a deep pink and looking up at Hikaru. He squints, hoping he appears sympathetic as he smiles slightly and waves to the boy. It doesn't seem to be the right gesture, as it sends Chekov running off to the back room again, leaving behind a bewildered Kirk, McCoy and Uhura.
"What the hell is wrong with this kid? He's like a scared bunny rabbit," McCoy growls.
"Calm down, Bones; it's his first night. You remember what your first night in a restaurant was like."
"Damn it, Jim, I told you never to bring that up again."
Hikaru perks up at the possibility of hearing an embarrassing McCoy story, but then Uhura interrupts to say, "I'll have a new plate in a few minutes," and Chekov comes back with a new tray of asparagus, his head bowed, and he figures he ought to get back to work. He goes back to the table to politely tell the salt-hater that the situation is currently being rectified and to thank him for his patience.
*
The end of the night's service can't come any sooner than it does, and he heads outside the back door of the restaurant to lean against the building and light up a smoke. Kirk was right when he prophesized that things might get hectic and he's happy to have a reprieve. Hikaru takes a long drag off his cigarette and tries to wave the smoke away so that his clothes don't absorb the smell. He's not supposed to smoke back here, really, but he doesn't get paid enough to care.
He closes his eyes and doesn't notice right away when the back door opens, just raises his cigarette back to his lips and sucks on the filter, hungry for the nicotine. Hikaru blinks when he gets the sensation he's being watched and sees that he is—by Chekov, who's just standing there and staring at him with a large trash bag in his arms.
"Oh...hey. Hi." He blinks again, smiling to him and exhaling his smoke. The guy keeps staring at him and it's a little weird, but it is a pretty big coincidence that they've met like this again. He's probably just as shocked as Hikaru is. "It's Chekov, right? Ah...Peter?"
"Pavel," he corrects, but nods anyway. "Pavel Chekov, yes." He puts the trash bag down and finally offers Hikaru a timid smile. "You are the man who was lost in my neighborhood last night."
"Yeah, that's me. Kind of crazy that we ended up crossing paths again like this."
"I was thinking the same." Chekov blushes again, just a tiny bit, and goes to throw the bag in the dumpster, which is probably difficult, given that it's twice his size. Hikaru figures he must be insanely shy. "You made it home safely, then?"
"I did. Thanks again, really...your directions were perfect."
"It is no problem at all." He shakes his head and then looks at his hands, looking disgusted. "Chef McCoy told me I have to take out all of the trash tonight, for being so clumsy and ruining the asparagus."
"As if they all don't drop things all the time." Hikaru rolls his eyes, taking another drag from his cigarette, which Chekov seems to watch with interest. He pulls his pack out from his pocket and holds it up. "Want one?"
"No, thank you. Perhaps another time," he says, with a gracious smile.
Chekov steps into the light, then, and Hikaru's breath hitches slightly when he can see all of his face clearly. Gaila was definitely right about him being cute, though he made the same assessment on the street last night. He's young, definitely young—though surely not as young as McCoy made him out to be, which would be about twelve or so—and he has delicate, sloping cheekbones and a pert chin. His eyes are a cloudy blue, almost gray, and his nose is cute but strong at the same time. And his mouth, well: pink, very pink, with ample lips that seem more feminine than they should be. Plus, there are those distinctive curls that he noticed the first time, that he can almost remember reaching out and touching in his dreams.
Okay, so sue him if he doesn't want Gaila to have this one. Not that he's got a shot of any kind, but damn it, she shouldn't be allowed to claim all the good ones.
"So, um," he finally says, flicking some ash away. "Not the best first night?"
"No," Chekov replies, pursing his lips. "But Chef Kirk warned me it might be awkward. I am learning that nothing quite prepares you for being in a professional kitchen. But there is no other place I want to be, so I'll get used to it."
"Well, at least you're optimistic." Hikaru has to smile at that, if not a bit sadly. He often feels like he's surrounded by chefs who would all die for their craft. Besides botany, to an admittedly much lesser extent, he's never been passionate about anything in his life. He often wonders what it must be like to be so self-assured about one's personal mission, to love doing something so much that you're willing to do anything in order to pursue it. "Are you fresh out of school, then, Chekov?"
"Oh, please, we are not working now. Call me Pavel."
"Okay. Pavel, then." He returns Pavel's big smile, feeling a little warm inside at the sweet stretch of his mouth.
"Better," he says with a nod, and then tilts his head. "It's unfair, though; you know my name but I do not know yours."
"Oh! Dude, sorry about that. It's Hikaru Sulu." He feels a little weird, introducing himself so awkwardly, so he extends a hand and Pavel shakes it, laughing.
"Hikaru Sulu. That's Japanese, da?"
"Yep. I'm second generation, though, from San Francisco originally. And, as you saw, new enough to New York that I still get lost on the trains sometimes."
Pavel nods, still smiling to him. "And you are a server here?"
"Head server, yeah." Hikaru takes one last drag from his cigarette and looks away as he throws it down and stubs it out. He feels a little embarrassed, talking to this kid who's a rising star in the making and likely younger than him, when all he does is walk food over to people. "Just got promoted a couple of months ago."
"Oh, congratulations, Hikaru!" Pavel exclaims, and the way he says his name is friggin' adorable, just like Gaila said. He smiles for Pavel's sake, shaking his head and waving a hand dismissively.
"Whatever. I should be the one congratulating you, for landing a job at one of the best restaurants in the city. And at such a young age."
"You do not know my age," Pavel says, a wry smile creeping onto his face.
"Well," Hikaru starts, mirroring the expression and shrugging one shoulder. Before he can go on, Gaila pops her head out of the back door, spotting them together and breaking into a big grin. He's not exactly unhappy to see her, but man, she has a knack for interrupting nice moments.
"Oh, hi, Chekov! I was just looking for Karu. A bunch of us are thinking of going out for a drink." She winks at Hikaru and then looks at Chekov with an inviting smile. "Wanna join in? Celebrate your first night?"
"Ahh, thank you, but I am not yet twenty-one," Pavel says, and Hikaru looks at him with a faint smirk. He knew it.
"Oh, no! Well, we'd find a way to get you in. Jim knows all the bars around here."
"Only if it does not cause any trouble."
"I'll ask him," Gaila says, and she flashes Hikaru a knowing smile before she vanishes. They stand there for a few awkward moments before Pavel shrugs, going to the door as well. Hikaru sighs, knowing their nice moment has officially passed.
"I suppose I must finish taking out the trash," he says.
"Okay, well...cool. Hopefully Kirk can find a way to sneak you in, so we can talk more."
"That would be nice."
Pavel opens the door and nods to him, ducking his head as he goes back into the kitchen area, leaving Hikaru slightly breathless in his wake. He stands there, reassessing the previous few minutes in his head, and then ends up pulling out another cigarette. He's just about to light it when Gaila appears again, pointing between them and speaking in a loud stage whisper.
"Later: you and me. I want to hear everything."
After she leaves, Hikaru can't help but smile vaguely around the filter of his cigarette.
Previous: Chapter 5 || Next: Chapter 7
Rating: R for references to sex, language
Word count: 3,770
Pairings/Characters: Sulu/Chekov, referenced Sulu/Gaila, Gaila/OMC, Uhura, Spock, McCoy, Kirk, Riley, Rand
Disclaimer: Do not own or claim to own.
Warnings: AU set in New York City, 2009, with flashbacks to five years prior. Many references to the ST: XI canon. References to het.
Summary: All paths lead to the kitchen for the staff members of Enterprise, the newest critical darling on the New York restaurant scene. It's here that they come together as a team and find out just where they belong. Chapter 6: Hikaru's day gets off to a predictable start, thanks to his bubbly, sexed-up roommate; then the evening takes an unexpected turn.
For a comprehensive list of series pairings, links to prior chapters and author notes, please visit the master post.
Hikaru wakes with a start when a loud crash rings out in the bathroom, which is inconveniently located right across from his bedroom. He reaches out blindly, as if to grab a baseball bat that isn't there and jump into action.
"Sorry!" a voice calls out. Gaila, his roommate. He groans and flops back onto his bed.
"Damn, Gaila, I was having such a nice dream, too." He turns his head and squints blearily at his alarm clock, groaning again. "I don't even have to wake up for another hour."
"I know, but I'm late!"
Gaila runs by his door, which is slightly ajar, dressed only in a towel, her red hair trailing behind her in a tangled, fiery mass. He can guess well enough that she's probably dripped all over the hardwood floor of their hallway. The reason she's late is also fairly predictable; if he listens closely, he can hear her frantically trying to usher someone out of the apartment, someone with a distinctly male voice. Figures that's why her bedroom door was shut when he got home last night. They often travel home from the restaurant together but he had to stay late last night doing prep work for today, and then wound up falling asleep on the train and getting lost, of all things. If not for that friendly guy he ran into on the street, he might still be roaming around Rego Park.
He blinks when the thought crosses his mind that his nice dream might very well have been about that helpful stranger. Of course, he can't recall a face now.
The front door slams shut in the distance and a moment later, Gaila reappears in his doorway, cringing. "I'm really sorry, Karu. I know you get to go in later today; I didn't mean to totally ruin your sleep."
"S'okay, G." Hikaru waves a hand at her and then runs it through his hair, which he imagines is standing on end as it usually is after a night's sleep. "You have fun last night?"
She grins impishly, shrugging a shoulder. "Let's just say one of the patrons wanted to give his compliments to the chef." She giggles as Hikaru smirks, but then just as quickly turns her nose up. "He was so clingy, though; I had to practically throw him out. And he snored all night."
"Deal-breaker," he says, nodding. He tilts his head curiously. "I thought you were late?"
"I am! Here, hold on."
Gaila goes rushing out of the room again and returns about thirty seconds later with an armful of clothes, throwing them on the bed and pulling off her towel, getting dressed right in front of him. Hikaru laughs and lays back, his arms folded behind his head. She does this more often than would seem normal to most people, but he doesn't mind at all—it's nothing he hasn't seen before. He knew all about Gaila's ways even before he moved from San Francisco to New York, thanks to Kevin Riley, his old buddy from high school who moved to the East coast after graduation to pursue a culinary degree. Riley knew Gaila from Starfleet Academy and when Hikaru decided to move to New York on a whim after six months of sitting around in his hometown, post-college with useless biology degree in hand (useless in the sense that he didn't relish the idea of pursuing a doctorate, as much as he loved his botany concentration), he wrote to his old friend and asked if he knew someone looking for a roommate. Gaila was the first name to come up.
"She's a little crazy, though," Riley said, over the phone. "Just one of those women who oozes sex. I wouldn't be surprised if you sleep with her the first time you meet her."
"You're exaggerating, man," Hikaru replied, laughing.
Then, of course, he got to New York and crashed with Riley for a week, met Gaila for a drink and promptly slept with her. There was just something irresistible about her, some sort of devastating charm that she radiated. And it was good sex, but the connection wasn't exactly there. He rolled onto the mattress after they were done and stared up at the ceiling, ready to dive head first into a panic over the awkward conversation that was sure to ensue. But then Gaila turned onto her side, smiled at him and said, "So, you're not a vegetarian, are you? Because I won't stand for that sort of thing in my apartment."
To this day, they've remained both roommates and best friends.
Gaila fastens the clasp on her bra and then pulls on her blouse, sweeping her bright red curls out from the collar. "So, was last night okay? Or did it take forever?"
"It took forever," Hikaru replies, muffling a yawn into his hand. "Then I friggin' fell asleep on the train—the wrong train—and woke up in Rego Park."
"You're kidding." Gaila laughs in surprise, shimmying into her skirt and tucking her blouse into the waistband. "I don't even know where that is. Did you take a cab back?"
"I was going to, but then I ran into this guy who told me how to get back here by train. I was walking down the street, trying to figure out where the hell I was, and I just ran right into him. He was really helpful."
"Cute?" Gaila asks, grinning brightly. Hikaru laughs faintly, nodding.
"Ah...yeah, actually. Very cute."
She nudges his knee. "Well, did you get a number?"
"No," he says, his face falling. "I didn't even get a name."
"Faaaaail," Gaila drawls. She looks in the mirror and tousles her hair, tossing him a severe look over her shoulder. "See, this is why you never get dates, Karu. You're always letting these golden opportunities pass you by. Zoooom," she says, moving her hand through the air in an airplane motion. Hikaru runs a hand over his face and huffs.
"We can't all be as freewheeling and sexually liberated as you, G. He was just some random dude on the street."
"Well, you should be! How else are you going to meet people in this city? We're all so immersed in our own little worlds, racing by each other at the speed of light. If we don't make an effort to crash into each other," and she smacks her hands together in a colliding gesture, "then we'll never get to connect with anyone."
Hikaru shuts his eyes, pressing his cheek to his pillow. "Mmm. And you call an endless string of one-night stands 'connecting' with people?"
"Yes," Gaila says curtly. Then she smacks Hikaru's bare thigh, hard, making him jerk with a shout. "Dickweed."
"That fucking hurt!" he protests, rubbing the already red mark on his thigh.
"See? We connected. My hand and your leg." She leans down and kisses his cheek, as if to make up for the smack, and then walks to his doorway, waving to him and sing-songing sweetly. "See you at work!"
Hikaru grunts and pulls the covers up, turning onto his side. He peers one more time at the clock and wonders if he can manage to get in another half-hour of sleep. After fifteen minutes, he gives up and pulls himself out of bed, going to the kitchen to make himself a grilled cheese sandwich. He makes sure to use a lot of Gaila's fancy, organic cheddar.
*
He stills feels groggy when he gets to Enterprise, but he knows he'll liven up once he's inside and has things to do. When he walks through the glass doors, Spock is standing at his podium by the reception area and he looks up, regarding Hikaru with a single nod. He nods back, waving a hand in a half-salute.
"Afternoon, Spock."
"Good afternoon, Mr. Sulu. If I could have a moment of your time..." He steps out from behind the podium, hands clasped behind his back in his usual slightly sterile manner. Hikaru pauses in his stride and shrugs.
"Sure thing. What's up?"
"Chef Kirk has asked me to inform you that a new commis will be joining our kitchen staff tonight. He will be working under Chef Uhura." Spock lifts his brow slightly, and it occurs to Hikaru that he must be thinking of a way to convey Kirk's message politely. "Chef Kirk has predicted that tonight's service is at risk of disruption, due to a new pair of hands in the kitchen, and he suggested I prepare you in advance for such an outcome."
Hikaru blinks, laughing after a moment. "So, basically, Kirk thinks someone's eyebrows are gonna get singed off."
"Something of that nature, yes," Spock says, quirking a very subtle smile. "The young man seems very intelligent and capable, however. His name is Pavel Chekov."
"Okay, cool. What is that, Russian?" He scratches his head, having a quick flashback to the boy from the night before. He had an accent; was that Russian?
"I believe so, yes." Spock moves back to his podium and his book full of notes written in his impeccable penmanship. "Are you well today, Mr. Sulu?"
"Yeah, just tired after last night. Hey, did Gaila make it here in time?"
"I believe Chef Gaila was punctual this afternoon." He looks down and writes something in his book, arching one of his severe eyebrows. "Barely."
"Sounds about right," Hikaru says, smirking. "Thanks for the info. And see you in a bit." He nods and waves again to Spock, heading toward the dining room. The maitre d' simply nods in return, granting him a small, courteous bow.
The dinner service is just getting started when a familiar cloud of perfume swirls around him, and he doesn't have to look up from his final prep work to know that Gaila's standing beside him. "Oh, my god. The new chef is so cute, Karu. Like, ridiculously adorable. I want to pinch his cheeks and let him go down on me."
Hikaru rolls his eyes, looking up at her with a vague smile. "What makes you think he'd want to?"
"Doesn't everyone?" she replies, looking every bit the wide-eyed, earnest little girl. But then she grins fiercely and gives herself away, and they're both laughing. "No, but really. You have to come and see him at some point."
"Sure thing. When I'm not busting my ass in the dining room and making sure all the other servers are busting theirs equally."
"You're such an ass-buster. That's kind of hot. We should make a personal ad for you tonight on Match.com and say your nickname is 'The Ass-Buster.'"
"Damn it, G. Go roast a pig or something."
"I was just going to," she says, rolling her eyes dramatically and walking away.
The service itself goes pretty well; they've got a good amount of patrons and the tips are decent, and all of the servers on the schedule for tonight are actually present. Hikaru thinks after about two hours that he hasn't heard about any fracas or ruckus in the kitchen, so the new guy must be holding his own. Either that, or McCoy has got him in a stranglehold and the poor dude is too busy choking to scream for help. He's been too busy to communicate with anyone in the kitchen aside from Janice and Kirk, so he hasn't been able to take a look at the newbie, as Gaila so furtively suggested. If she's got her sights set on the guy, though, it doesn't really matter what he thinks, anyway. He learned that the hard way, long ago. And she doesn't even do it on purpose, so he can't ever be annoyed with her. Damn Gaila.
Another half hour later and one of his diners calls him over, suggesting that his meal is over-salted. Hikaru apologizes, as he's meant to do, and brings the offending plate back to the kitchen, handing it over to Janice Rand, their intrepid expediter, with a shrug.
"The guy says it's too salty. Can we get a fresh one?" he asks. Janice nods and brings the plate to Uhura.
"Uhura, we've got a salt issue," Janice says, causing Uhura to look up from her work. Hikaru watches her grab a spoon and take a taste, and then idly looks around the busy kitchen to see if he can spot this Chekov guy. No one but the usual suspects. Uhura gets his attention again when she throws her spoon down and flicks her ponytail. That's never a good sign.
"Oh, hell no. This shit is trifling. That's not too salty at all."
"Then I guess he wants it bland," Janice says. Uhura groans and takes the plate back, shaking her head.
"Peons," she mutters, then calls back behind her. "Chekov, where's that asparagus?"
Just then, a lanky, curly-haired guy comes running in from the other room, carrying a tray of asparagus, ready to be seasoned and sautéed. Hikaru takes one look at him and freezes in surprise when he sees it's the same guy from the street, the one who told him how to get back home from Rego Park. What are the chances? Chekov looks up and makes eye contact with him, and it's probably a big surprise to him, too, because he proceeds to walk into a table and trip over himself, falling forward, asparagus and all. And, unfortunately for Chekov, he bumps into McCoy along the way, nearly bringing him down with him.
"Goddamn it! JIM!" McCoy yells, and Kirk comes running over, bending to help poor Chekov up while the sous chef waves his arms around angrily. "The kid just ruined two damn pounds of asparagus in one fell swoop!"
"Yeah, I see that, Bones. Chill out. You okay, Checkers?"
Kirk helps to dust Chekov off and McCoy keeps ranting about how they're not being paid to supervise a playground or something, but Chekov doesn't seem to hear, instead blushing a deep pink and looking up at Hikaru. He squints, hoping he appears sympathetic as he smiles slightly and waves to the boy. It doesn't seem to be the right gesture, as it sends Chekov running off to the back room again, leaving behind a bewildered Kirk, McCoy and Uhura.
"What the hell is wrong with this kid? He's like a scared bunny rabbit," McCoy growls.
"Calm down, Bones; it's his first night. You remember what your first night in a restaurant was like."
"Damn it, Jim, I told you never to bring that up again."
Hikaru perks up at the possibility of hearing an embarrassing McCoy story, but then Uhura interrupts to say, "I'll have a new plate in a few minutes," and Chekov comes back with a new tray of asparagus, his head bowed, and he figures he ought to get back to work. He goes back to the table to politely tell the salt-hater that the situation is currently being rectified and to thank him for his patience.
*
The end of the night's service can't come any sooner than it does, and he heads outside the back door of the restaurant to lean against the building and light up a smoke. Kirk was right when he prophesized that things might get hectic and he's happy to have a reprieve. Hikaru takes a long drag off his cigarette and tries to wave the smoke away so that his clothes don't absorb the smell. He's not supposed to smoke back here, really, but he doesn't get paid enough to care.
He closes his eyes and doesn't notice right away when the back door opens, just raises his cigarette back to his lips and sucks on the filter, hungry for the nicotine. Hikaru blinks when he gets the sensation he's being watched and sees that he is—by Chekov, who's just standing there and staring at him with a large trash bag in his arms.
"Oh...hey. Hi." He blinks again, smiling to him and exhaling his smoke. The guy keeps staring at him and it's a little weird, but it is a pretty big coincidence that they've met like this again. He's probably just as shocked as Hikaru is. "It's Chekov, right? Ah...Peter?"
"Pavel," he corrects, but nods anyway. "Pavel Chekov, yes." He puts the trash bag down and finally offers Hikaru a timid smile. "You are the man who was lost in my neighborhood last night."
"Yeah, that's me. Kind of crazy that we ended up crossing paths again like this."
"I was thinking the same." Chekov blushes again, just a tiny bit, and goes to throw the bag in the dumpster, which is probably difficult, given that it's twice his size. Hikaru figures he must be insanely shy. "You made it home safely, then?"
"I did. Thanks again, really...your directions were perfect."
"It is no problem at all." He shakes his head and then looks at his hands, looking disgusted. "Chef McCoy told me I have to take out all of the trash tonight, for being so clumsy and ruining the asparagus."
"As if they all don't drop things all the time." Hikaru rolls his eyes, taking another drag from his cigarette, which Chekov seems to watch with interest. He pulls his pack out from his pocket and holds it up. "Want one?"
"No, thank you. Perhaps another time," he says, with a gracious smile.
Chekov steps into the light, then, and Hikaru's breath hitches slightly when he can see all of his face clearly. Gaila was definitely right about him being cute, though he made the same assessment on the street last night. He's young, definitely young—though surely not as young as McCoy made him out to be, which would be about twelve or so—and he has delicate, sloping cheekbones and a pert chin. His eyes are a cloudy blue, almost gray, and his nose is cute but strong at the same time. And his mouth, well: pink, very pink, with ample lips that seem more feminine than they should be. Plus, there are those distinctive curls that he noticed the first time, that he can almost remember reaching out and touching in his dreams.
Okay, so sue him if he doesn't want Gaila to have this one. Not that he's got a shot of any kind, but damn it, she shouldn't be allowed to claim all the good ones.
"So, um," he finally says, flicking some ash away. "Not the best first night?"
"No," Chekov replies, pursing his lips. "But Chef Kirk warned me it might be awkward. I am learning that nothing quite prepares you for being in a professional kitchen. But there is no other place I want to be, so I'll get used to it."
"Well, at least you're optimistic." Hikaru has to smile at that, if not a bit sadly. He often feels like he's surrounded by chefs who would all die for their craft. Besides botany, to an admittedly much lesser extent, he's never been passionate about anything in his life. He often wonders what it must be like to be so self-assured about one's personal mission, to love doing something so much that you're willing to do anything in order to pursue it. "Are you fresh out of school, then, Chekov?"
"Oh, please, we are not working now. Call me Pavel."
"Okay. Pavel, then." He returns Pavel's big smile, feeling a little warm inside at the sweet stretch of his mouth.
"Better," he says with a nod, and then tilts his head. "It's unfair, though; you know my name but I do not know yours."
"Oh! Dude, sorry about that. It's Hikaru Sulu." He feels a little weird, introducing himself so awkwardly, so he extends a hand and Pavel shakes it, laughing.
"Hikaru Sulu. That's Japanese, da?"
"Yep. I'm second generation, though, from San Francisco originally. And, as you saw, new enough to New York that I still get lost on the trains sometimes."
Pavel nods, still smiling to him. "And you are a server here?"
"Head server, yeah." Hikaru takes one last drag from his cigarette and looks away as he throws it down and stubs it out. He feels a little embarrassed, talking to this kid who's a rising star in the making and likely younger than him, when all he does is walk food over to people. "Just got promoted a couple of months ago."
"Oh, congratulations, Hikaru!" Pavel exclaims, and the way he says his name is friggin' adorable, just like Gaila said. He smiles for Pavel's sake, shaking his head and waving a hand dismissively.
"Whatever. I should be the one congratulating you, for landing a job at one of the best restaurants in the city. And at such a young age."
"You do not know my age," Pavel says, a wry smile creeping onto his face.
"Well," Hikaru starts, mirroring the expression and shrugging one shoulder. Before he can go on, Gaila pops her head out of the back door, spotting them together and breaking into a big grin. He's not exactly unhappy to see her, but man, she has a knack for interrupting nice moments.
"Oh, hi, Chekov! I was just looking for Karu. A bunch of us are thinking of going out for a drink." She winks at Hikaru and then looks at Chekov with an inviting smile. "Wanna join in? Celebrate your first night?"
"Ahh, thank you, but I am not yet twenty-one," Pavel says, and Hikaru looks at him with a faint smirk. He knew it.
"Oh, no! Well, we'd find a way to get you in. Jim knows all the bars around here."
"Only if it does not cause any trouble."
"I'll ask him," Gaila says, and she flashes Hikaru a knowing smile before she vanishes. They stand there for a few awkward moments before Pavel shrugs, going to the door as well. Hikaru sighs, knowing their nice moment has officially passed.
"I suppose I must finish taking out the trash," he says.
"Okay, well...cool. Hopefully Kirk can find a way to sneak you in, so we can talk more."
"That would be nice."
Pavel opens the door and nods to him, ducking his head as he goes back into the kitchen area, leaving Hikaru slightly breathless in his wake. He stands there, reassessing the previous few minutes in his head, and then ends up pulling out another cigarette. He's just about to light it when Gaila appears again, pointing between them and speaking in a loud stage whisper.
"Later: you and me. I want to hear everything."
After she leaves, Hikaru can't help but smile vaguely around the filter of his cigarette.
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