[fic for mr_chekov] dream a little dream of me.
( as requested here )
“Robert, I haven’t had a goodnight hug.”
“I know, Pasha.”
“Or a goodnight kiss.”
“I know.”
“Well?”
Robert sighed and stopped his dish-drying to lean into the video communicator, as if that would make her closer to him. “Pasha, the shortest distance to you right now involves considerable land and an ocean, whether I go east or west. I can’t be there.”
“You should be here.” Pasha was pouting, working every bit of pathetic she could out of being curled up in bed alone. Her childhood bed, at her mother’s place, no less, where she should be used to being alone.
“I know.” On the opposite side of the world, it was still sunny, a warm Canadian Prairie afternoon in the house Robert grew up in. “I’m coming tomorrow, though, remember? Family first, and then the boyfriend gets dragged all over the Mother Land.”
Pasha shook her head, curls bobbing in disagreement. “Na-uh. It will be tomorrow for you, the day after tomorrow for me.”
“It’s still far less than a week...”
“Robert! Do not joke. I miss you.”
“I know, babe, I miss you, too.” That brought out another pout. “Hey, Pasha, can you see the sky from your bed?”
“Yes, I have a window...”
He started questioning her on which ones she could see now, which ones she’d be able to see if she has a microscope. And had they ever been there? Robert got a few things wrong on purpose, not obviously so, but little things she could correct them on, until he caught her yawning and she accused him of boring her to sleep.
“Yeah,” Robert admitted, smiling into the communicator, “But it’s the best I can do on such long distances. Have sweet dreams of correcting me, okay, Pasha?”
She was curled up in bed now, that sort of mumbly sleepy that he always found so adorable. “Still miss Robert kisses.”
“I can try to blow one from here.”
“Pft, ne budet rabotatʹ.”
He could only assume that was a statement on his impending failure, but he blew a kiss at the screen anyway. “Goodnight, Pasha.”
“Night, Robert,” she mumbled in reply, only making a slight puckering of her lips to catch his sent kiss. “Lyublyu tebya.”
Robert smiled, managing to get in “love you, too,” before she ended the transmission.
“Robert, I haven’t had a goodnight hug.”
“I know, Pasha.”
“Or a goodnight kiss.”
“I know.”
“Well?”
Robert sighed and stopped his dish-drying to lean into the video communicator, as if that would make her closer to him. “Pasha, the shortest distance to you right now involves considerable land and an ocean, whether I go east or west. I can’t be there.”
“You should be here.” Pasha was pouting, working every bit of pathetic she could out of being curled up in bed alone. Her childhood bed, at her mother’s place, no less, where she should be used to being alone.
“I know.” On the opposite side of the world, it was still sunny, a warm Canadian Prairie afternoon in the house Robert grew up in. “I’m coming tomorrow, though, remember? Family first, and then the boyfriend gets dragged all over the Mother Land.”
Pasha shook her head, curls bobbing in disagreement. “Na-uh. It will be tomorrow for you, the day after tomorrow for me.”
“It’s still far less than a week...”
“Robert! Do not joke. I miss you.”
“I know, babe, I miss you, too.” That brought out another pout. “Hey, Pasha, can you see the sky from your bed?”
“Yes, I have a window...”
He started questioning her on which ones she could see now, which ones she’d be able to see if she has a microscope. And had they ever been there? Robert got a few things wrong on purpose, not obviously so, but little things she could correct them on, until he caught her yawning and she accused him of boring her to sleep.
“Yeah,” Robert admitted, smiling into the communicator, “But it’s the best I can do on such long distances. Have sweet dreams of correcting me, okay, Pasha?”
She was curled up in bed now, that sort of mumbly sleepy that he always found so adorable. “Still miss Robert kisses.”
“I can try to blow one from here.”
“Pft, ne budet rabotatʹ.”
He could only assume that was a statement on his impending failure, but he blew a kiss at the screen anyway. “Goodnight, Pasha.”
“Night, Robert,” she mumbled in reply, only making a slight puckering of her lips to catch his sent kiss. “Lyublyu tebya.”
Robert smiled, managing to get in “love you, too,” before she ended the transmission.