Abysmal Bodies: Machinery
ABYSMAL BODIES: LONDON CALLING
Machinery
Notes: Rated PG-13 for language and sexual references.
This follows directly on from chuckney's excellent Scotty centric AB fic. Read that first here. This is not especially dark but as Hikaru-Sama would say, whatever.
Apologies to the comrades. If you are not happy about being turned into an OC in this fic please let me know and I shall take you out of it.
Machinery
The beeping of his communications transceiver unit wakes him. He checks the clock and it’s well past midday but he hasn’t been sleeping well lately.
Comrade Chekov curses. He can count the number of people who have the codes and frequency of the device, which goes directly to his bedroom, on one mutilated hand. All of them know better to call him if it isn’t urgent. He wonders if it’s Hikaru-Sama.
He isn’t best pleased when he notices the transmitting frequency is scrambled in a way he does not recognise. There’s only one person he knows with the tech-savvy to do that and while he usually likes the Scotsman, he isn’t in the mood to talk right now.
‘Zis has better be fucking good, Scott,’ he growls.
‘You’re not above taking care of someone personally, are you Pavel?’ comes the voice at the other end. It sounds dead inside. Lifeless, toneless. It sounds nothing at all like how the Scotsman usually is. This stops the Comrade from cutting him off there and then. No one uses his given name that lightly. Well, almost no one.
‘Don’t call me zat, Scott,’ he says refusing to disguise the anger in his voice. Whatever Scott has gone through, whatever has happened, it isn’t enough to let him forget his place. ‘But no, I am not. Good to keep in practise, occasionally. Vhy?’
‘I’d like to call in a favour.’
‘Is that so? So much for no enemies, da?’ Comrade Chekov manfully chokes down spiteful laughter. His intelligence unit had reported some rumours that things were not looking well for Scotty. Looks like they got to him. Comrade Chekov wonders which one it was. ‘Not zis vay. I’m due in London in two days time. You can meet me zere. Usual spot.’
‘London? I don’t -‘
‘I don’t have time for zis, Mr Scott, but I shall make ze exception anyway. Meet me in two days time in London or find other arrangements.’
‘You’re a real bastard Chekov, you know that?’
‘Vhatewer, I’ll see you in London,’ he says and cuts him off. Whatever? Hikaru must be rubbing off on him.
He pushes a button on his transmitter that goes straight to the Kitchen. ‘Cherry Blossom?’
‘Greetings Comrade! Is it time for breakfast? Or lunch?’ There is a hint of disapproval in the tone.
‘Fuck off. Just send me up some aspirin and everything you can find out about Montgomery Scott’s situation. I want to know who’s dead. All the details. No later than tonight, understand?’
‘You should eat, sir.’
‘Just do as you’re told! And send up Vodka!’
‘It is too early for that -‘
‘Not the drink, my fucking head of security. And stop fucking telling me what to do!’
Fucking subordinates and their fucking stupid codenames. Comrade Chekov swears this is the last time he’s going to let them pick for themselves. He is almost entirely sure that 4/5ths of them have deliberately chosen ones that he can’t pronounce in English as well.
Vodka shows up with aspirin, a sandwich and a tall glass of Lord knows what. It’s a disgusting looking greenish brown.
‘What the hell is that?’
She shrugs. ‘It has fruit in it,’ she says. ‘And that wheat-grass stuff. I just brought up what she told me.’
Comrade Chekov sniffs at it suspiciously. He isn’t hungry but he can’t take pills without some sort of liquid.
‘She put a couple of raw eggs in there as well,’ supplies Vodka just as he’s about to take a sip.
He throws the glass at her. She ducks and it only hits the wall behind her.
‘Give me your flask,’ he snaps.
She puts the tray down and pulls out a liquor flask. ‘You shouldn’t take that with aspirin,’ she says. ‘It’ll make you sick.’
‘Did I ask for your opinion?’
‘Hey, you’re the boss, Comrade! Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
He takes three with the vodka, and then finishes the flask for good measure. It’s strong stuff. Everyone knows that Vodka is immensely fond of her namesake, even if she can’t hold it. His head buzzing faintly he throws the now empty flask back at her.
‘You wanted something,’ she prompts.
‘Yes. Get hold of at least six guns that are like mine. So that you can't tell them apart. Stock up on phasers - ones that can’t be traced. And get one of the others to find out if a certain Mr Black will be attending Friday’s conference.’
‘You expecting trouble?’
‘Maybe,’ he says. ‘And as soon as Cherry Blossom has what I want you come straight back here.’ He sighs. This is just what he needs on top of everything else. ‘How would you and the other girls like a trip to London?’
‘You know what they say, Comrade! Good girls go to heaven but bad girls go to London.’ She grins. ‘I’ll tell them to pack a suitcase.’
Where does she come up with this shit? He waves her away and pulls the covers over his head.
***
Comrade Chekov is woken after an hour by the transceiver beeping again. His head is pounding and Vodka was right, he does feel sick.
‘Vat?’ he screeches down it. ‘Vat do you want now you fucking ingrate?’
‘It’s nice to hear your voice too, baby.’
‘Hikaru?’ And just like that he deflates. He can feel himself relax and his muscles unclench and he hates himself for it.
‘Who were you expecting?’ The Comrade thinks he can hear a hint of jealousy in Hikaru-Sama’s voice but he isn’t sure if that isn't just wishful thinking. I’ll see you dead, he thinks. Dead, dead, dead where you can have no power over me.
For some reason this thought does not give him the pleasure it should.
‘Iz none of your business.’
‘Who else do you talk to when you’re in bed, Pavel?’ There’s a definite edge to his tone now. ‘Your tovarishchs know better than to wake you when you’re hung-over.’
‘Am not hung-over. I just have a headache,’ he would normally tell Hikaru to go fuck himself but there’s something he wants to check. He yawns disaffectedly. ‘It was just business. Scotty is annoying me today.’
‘Scotty? The Scotsman has a direct fucking line to your bedroom?’
‘Jealous?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t care who you fuck. I just thought you had better taste.’
Hikaru has always maintained that he doesn’t like amiable Scotty, because he’s a joker, a clown. A dangerous fool who won’t pick sides. Comrade Chekov is beginning to wonder if there is another more personal reason. It makes him feel warm all over.
‘I don’t fuck him.’
Hikaru-Sama is silent. Comrade Chekov can hear his angry breathing over the transmitter. The question that Hikaru refuses to ask hangs in the static between them - Does he fuck you, then?
Comrade Chekov smiles into his pillow. ‘Are you going to London?’ he asks changing the subject.
‘Yes.’
‘I hate London.’
‘You hate anywhere that isn’t Russia. I quite like London.’
‘Bah.’
‘I’ve bought a residence there,’ Hikaru says conversationally. ‘Makes it more convenient.’
‘Vere in London?’
‘Canary Wharf.’
Comrade Chekov would have whistled in appreciation if doing so wouldn’t make his head implode. That must have cost a pretty penny. It’s not as if either of them can’t afford it but still, the property prices in London are nothing to be sneezed at. .
‘Zat is wery convenient. Nice and close to the Excel Centre.’
‘Yeah, tell me about it. Where are you staying?’
‘Don’t know. One of the girls will have arranged something.’
‘You hate hotels,’ he pauses. Comrade Chekov waits. ‘Aw fuck it. Pavel, do you want to crash at my place?’
Pavel grins. ‘I thought you’d never ask. How long has it been?’
‘Two weeks? Why? Do you miss me?’
‘I vant you.’
Hikaru sniggers. ‘You’re such a slut, Pavel.’
‘Hmm,’ says Pavel sleepily. The aspirin has started to kick in and the vodka he drank earlier is making his head spin. He normally has a much higher tolerance but he hasn’t eaten anything for ages and drinking on an empty stomach is not very wise. ‘Takes vun to know vun.’
Hikaru laughs and then hesitates. ‘Pavel?’
He’s too tired to keep this up. It’s as if two weeks of sleep are finally catching up with him. ‘No he isn’t,’ he says yawning. ‘You’re a fucking idiot and vun day I am going to kill you until you’re dead and then I vill kill you again just to be sure.’
‘Freak,’ mutters Hikaru with a smile in his voice.
‘Hmm?’
‘Go back to sleep, Pavel.’ Hikaru sighs and then softly adds, ‘Stay dangerous, baby.’
Pavel’s asleep before he hears the end of Hikaru's sentence.
***
Two days later Comrade Chekov sits in a little cafe on the Embankment waiting for Scotty to show up. He didn't expect to be able to sleep in a new environment - he usually can't; but he's been out like a light and feels almost bouncy.
Of course this might have something to do with the same reason that he's now comfortably sore and somewhat hoarse. He flexes his thighs together just to feel the sting and smiles to himself. Hikaru is so good at what he does, just thinking about gets him -
'You look like you've just been shagged out of your mind,' says Scott.
The Comrade starts out of his reverie. Fuck! Hikaru is making him soft. He glances around for the tovarishchs who have been strategically placed at tables of their own. They nod or wink at him depending on who they are.
'You look like shit,' says Comrade Chekov. 'How are you bearing up?'
'You know then?'
Scott's voice is flat. There's nothing in his eyes.
'My condolences,' says the Comrade with insincerity. He's still annoyed that Scott managed to sneak up on him. 'Poor Sarah.' He tries to conjure up an image of what the woman looked like but can't. 'At least the children are ok, da?'
'Is that supposed to make me feel better? Don't talk to me like you care!'
Chekov taps his right index finger twice on the table to signal the girls to hold it. A couple of them can get a little trigger happy if they think his safety is in danger.
'Hikaru was right. You are a fool.'
The words are out of his mouth before he realises that he has forgotten the honorific at the end. The less people that know exactly how close their 'partnership' is, the better. Maybe Scott is too grief-stricken to notice.
Scott looks up sharply. 'What-'
'You put them in danger. You vith your refusing to take allies and your refusal to go into protection. You left them out there exposed. Vhy should I care? Do you know who I am?'
Scotty blinked. 'Who you are?'
Pavel is so angry at himself for exposing his one weakness. He can't be sure that Scott hasn't heard. He hates himself for being so stupid, hates Scott for being so foolish with his families' safety and calling on him for revenge and most of all he hates Hikaru for putting him into this position.
'Listen carefully - I give you some adwice. I do not tell zis story to just anyvun. Vhatewer rumours you have heard about me, about the fifth of Nowember in fifty-eight. Zey are all true.'
'They say that you killed -'
'My grandfather loved me best,' says Comrade Chekov. 'It would have passed to me once he vas gone. I would have taken care of zem, if zey'd just accepted it.' He sighs. He feels nothing as he tells this story. It doesn’t matter. It was a lifetime ago. 'My father grew impatient, and he vas vorried that he vould be vaiting for nothing. He killed my Dedushka,' He pauses and then grins mirthlessly. 'And then I killed him. I killed him and my brother and all of the others who thought they had a right to claim what was mine. I vas sewenteen and zat is ze last time anyvun vas able to take anything from me. Do you understand?'
'Touching story. But why are you telling me this?'
'Because you're a fucking idiot!' he hisses. He has no idea why he is so angry with Scott. Why he wants to take the man by the shoulders and shake him until his head falls off. 'Vhere ze hell are your daughters? Vith your sister? I could make one call right now and have zem all blown up!'
'You wouldn't dare!'
'I vouldn't care to do it, but zat isn't the point. Ze point is you protect what's yours because if you don't anything zat happens is your fault.'
He's almost lost Hikaru once. He can't do it again.
'Ask me how many of my girls I've lost,' he spits. 'My tovarishchs? Not that I give a fuck but anyone I take into protection, stays fucking protected. You do not touch what is mine!'
Scott is staring at him uncomprehending, with a sort of glazed wonder. Comrade Chekov has had enough. 'It was Black,' he says getting to his feet. 'Consider it done. Zis conwersation is over.'
The girls rise from their own tables and flank him. He'll get them to do it. Scott won’t know that difference as long as the weapons match his own. He doesn't have time for this fuckery.
'Pavel!'
Scott is hurrying after them. And he actually has tears running down his face. Oh god, Hikaru is never going to let him live this down over how right he was about the man being a sentimental fool.
'I told you not to call me zat.'
'I - I - you're right. Of course you're right. I - I'm sorry. Thank you. I have to be there to protect my girls,' he grips the Comrade's hand with both of his. The girls look amused. Comrade Chekov glares at them and they look down giggling quietly.
'Will you - can you,' Scott clears his throat. 'Comrade Chekov, would you do me the honour of accepting my exclusive service?'
Comrade Chekov blinks. He wasn't expecting that. He's such an idiot. Of course he wants to go into Comrade Chekov's protection. Scott doesn't know the context. He doesn't know that Pavel's rant has nothing to do with him or his daughters. Hikaru will not be happy about this. Somehow that decides it.
He nods. 'Wery vell.' He glances at the youngest girl. 'Wessel, you vill liaise vith Mr Scott to have arrangements for his family made. Ze rest of you follow me.'
Scott thanks him fervently and then hugs him. Vodka pulls him off before the Comrade does anything undignified like scream.
'Don't do zat!' The Comrade dusts his coat off furiously. 'All of you! Escort Mr Scott to vhereewer he vants to go and then go back h- go back. I'll find my own vay.'
He stomps off following the riverside path. The Thames flows sluggishly. They have cleaned it up so it gleams an artificial, chlorinated blue but Comrade Chekov doesn't pause to admire it. He stops walking when his feet start to hurt and punches a code into his communicator.
'Hey, baby. How's your meeting going?' Hikaru's voice is sleepy and sated. He must have just woken up.
'Like a fucking nightmare.'
'Aw, did the nasty Scotsman upset my baby? Do you want me to cut his guts out so you can play with them? You can tell the future with entrails.'
'Shut up Hikaru. I'm not your baby.'
'Whatever you say, baby.'
Pavel cuts him off before he embarrasses himself. His hands are trembling. In the end it doesn't matter whether Scott noticed his slip or not. Even if he did, he's under Pavel's employ now. Even he wouldn't be stupid enough to try and betray him.
Comrade Chekov's Organizatsiya is a well oiled machine, each part working smoothly in tandem. Anything weak or defective is discarded and replaced. Pavel wishes he could do the same with the part of him that he thought died that November when he was seventeen. He wishes he could remove the part of him that yearns for, that screams for Hikaru whenever the other man is out of his sight. He wishes he could cut out his heart.
End Notes:
Tovarishch is Comrade in Russian. (According to wikipedia)
London Calling continues with Malice.
As always thoughts, comments and critiques are love.
Uh... if anyone wanted to write this from Scotty's PoV. What he'd been upto in between Comrade Chekov hanging up on him and this pivotal meeting and what he thinks of the Comrade’s outburst that would be more than ok. ;)
Machinery
Notes: Rated PG-13 for language and sexual references.
This follows directly on from chuckney's excellent Scotty centric AB fic. Read that first here. This is not especially dark but as Hikaru-Sama would say, whatever.
Apologies to the comrades. If you are not happy about being turned into an OC in this fic please let me know and I shall take you out of it.
Machinery
The beeping of his communications transceiver unit wakes him. He checks the clock and it’s well past midday but he hasn’t been sleeping well lately.
Comrade Chekov curses. He can count the number of people who have the codes and frequency of the device, which goes directly to his bedroom, on one mutilated hand. All of them know better to call him if it isn’t urgent. He wonders if it’s Hikaru-Sama.
He isn’t best pleased when he notices the transmitting frequency is scrambled in a way he does not recognise. There’s only one person he knows with the tech-savvy to do that and while he usually likes the Scotsman, he isn’t in the mood to talk right now.
‘Zis has better be fucking good, Scott,’ he growls.
‘You’re not above taking care of someone personally, are you Pavel?’ comes the voice at the other end. It sounds dead inside. Lifeless, toneless. It sounds nothing at all like how the Scotsman usually is. This stops the Comrade from cutting him off there and then. No one uses his given name that lightly. Well, almost no one.
‘Don’t call me zat, Scott,’ he says refusing to disguise the anger in his voice. Whatever Scott has gone through, whatever has happened, it isn’t enough to let him forget his place. ‘But no, I am not. Good to keep in practise, occasionally. Vhy?’
‘I’d like to call in a favour.’
‘Is that so? So much for no enemies, da?’ Comrade Chekov manfully chokes down spiteful laughter. His intelligence unit had reported some rumours that things were not looking well for Scotty. Looks like they got to him. Comrade Chekov wonders which one it was. ‘Not zis vay. I’m due in London in two days time. You can meet me zere. Usual spot.’
‘London? I don’t -‘
‘I don’t have time for zis, Mr Scott, but I shall make ze exception anyway. Meet me in two days time in London or find other arrangements.’
‘You’re a real bastard Chekov, you know that?’
‘Vhatewer, I’ll see you in London,’ he says and cuts him off. Whatever? Hikaru must be rubbing off on him.
He pushes a button on his transmitter that goes straight to the Kitchen. ‘Cherry Blossom?’
‘Greetings Comrade! Is it time for breakfast? Or lunch?’ There is a hint of disapproval in the tone.
‘Fuck off. Just send me up some aspirin and everything you can find out about Montgomery Scott’s situation. I want to know who’s dead. All the details. No later than tonight, understand?’
‘You should eat, sir.’
‘Just do as you’re told! And send up Vodka!’
‘It is too early for that -‘
‘Not the drink, my fucking head of security. And stop fucking telling me what to do!’
Fucking subordinates and their fucking stupid codenames. Comrade Chekov swears this is the last time he’s going to let them pick for themselves. He is almost entirely sure that 4/5ths of them have deliberately chosen ones that he can’t pronounce in English as well.
Vodka shows up with aspirin, a sandwich and a tall glass of Lord knows what. It’s a disgusting looking greenish brown.
‘What the hell is that?’
She shrugs. ‘It has fruit in it,’ she says. ‘And that wheat-grass stuff. I just brought up what she told me.’
Comrade Chekov sniffs at it suspiciously. He isn’t hungry but he can’t take pills without some sort of liquid.
‘She put a couple of raw eggs in there as well,’ supplies Vodka just as he’s about to take a sip.
He throws the glass at her. She ducks and it only hits the wall behind her.
‘Give me your flask,’ he snaps.
She puts the tray down and pulls out a liquor flask. ‘You shouldn’t take that with aspirin,’ she says. ‘It’ll make you sick.’
‘Did I ask for your opinion?’
‘Hey, you’re the boss, Comrade! Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
He takes three with the vodka, and then finishes the flask for good measure. It’s strong stuff. Everyone knows that Vodka is immensely fond of her namesake, even if she can’t hold it. His head buzzing faintly he throws the now empty flask back at her.
‘You wanted something,’ she prompts.
‘Yes. Get hold of at least six guns that are like mine. So that you can't tell them apart. Stock up on phasers - ones that can’t be traced. And get one of the others to find out if a certain Mr Black will be attending Friday’s conference.’
‘You expecting trouble?’
‘Maybe,’ he says. ‘And as soon as Cherry Blossom has what I want you come straight back here.’ He sighs. This is just what he needs on top of everything else. ‘How would you and the other girls like a trip to London?’
‘You know what they say, Comrade! Good girls go to heaven but bad girls go to London.’ She grins. ‘I’ll tell them to pack a suitcase.’
Where does she come up with this shit? He waves her away and pulls the covers over his head.
***
Comrade Chekov is woken after an hour by the transceiver beeping again. His head is pounding and Vodka was right, he does feel sick.
‘Vat?’ he screeches down it. ‘Vat do you want now you fucking ingrate?’
‘It’s nice to hear your voice too, baby.’
‘Hikaru?’ And just like that he deflates. He can feel himself relax and his muscles unclench and he hates himself for it.
‘Who were you expecting?’ The Comrade thinks he can hear a hint of jealousy in Hikaru-Sama’s voice but he isn’t sure if that isn't just wishful thinking. I’ll see you dead, he thinks. Dead, dead, dead where you can have no power over me.
For some reason this thought does not give him the pleasure it should.
‘Iz none of your business.’
‘Who else do you talk to when you’re in bed, Pavel?’ There’s a definite edge to his tone now. ‘Your tovarishchs know better than to wake you when you’re hung-over.’
‘Am not hung-over. I just have a headache,’ he would normally tell Hikaru to go fuck himself but there’s something he wants to check. He yawns disaffectedly. ‘It was just business. Scotty is annoying me today.’
‘Scotty? The Scotsman has a direct fucking line to your bedroom?’
‘Jealous?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t care who you fuck. I just thought you had better taste.’
Hikaru has always maintained that he doesn’t like amiable Scotty, because he’s a joker, a clown. A dangerous fool who won’t pick sides. Comrade Chekov is beginning to wonder if there is another more personal reason. It makes him feel warm all over.
‘I don’t fuck him.’
Hikaru-Sama is silent. Comrade Chekov can hear his angry breathing over the transmitter. The question that Hikaru refuses to ask hangs in the static between them - Does he fuck you, then?
Comrade Chekov smiles into his pillow. ‘Are you going to London?’ he asks changing the subject.
‘Yes.’
‘I hate London.’
‘You hate anywhere that isn’t Russia. I quite like London.’
‘Bah.’
‘I’ve bought a residence there,’ Hikaru says conversationally. ‘Makes it more convenient.’
‘Vere in London?’
‘Canary Wharf.’
Comrade Chekov would have whistled in appreciation if doing so wouldn’t make his head implode. That must have cost a pretty penny. It’s not as if either of them can’t afford it but still, the property prices in London are nothing to be sneezed at. .
‘Zat is wery convenient. Nice and close to the Excel Centre.’
‘Yeah, tell me about it. Where are you staying?’
‘Don’t know. One of the girls will have arranged something.’
‘You hate hotels,’ he pauses. Comrade Chekov waits. ‘Aw fuck it. Pavel, do you want to crash at my place?’
Pavel grins. ‘I thought you’d never ask. How long has it been?’
‘Two weeks? Why? Do you miss me?’
‘I vant you.’
Hikaru sniggers. ‘You’re such a slut, Pavel.’
‘Hmm,’ says Pavel sleepily. The aspirin has started to kick in and the vodka he drank earlier is making his head spin. He normally has a much higher tolerance but he hasn’t eaten anything for ages and drinking on an empty stomach is not very wise. ‘Takes vun to know vun.’
Hikaru laughs and then hesitates. ‘Pavel?’
He’s too tired to keep this up. It’s as if two weeks of sleep are finally catching up with him. ‘No he isn’t,’ he says yawning. ‘You’re a fucking idiot and vun day I am going to kill you until you’re dead and then I vill kill you again just to be sure.’
‘Freak,’ mutters Hikaru with a smile in his voice.
‘Hmm?’
‘Go back to sleep, Pavel.’ Hikaru sighs and then softly adds, ‘Stay dangerous, baby.’
Pavel’s asleep before he hears the end of Hikaru's sentence.
***
Two days later Comrade Chekov sits in a little cafe on the Embankment waiting for Scotty to show up. He didn't expect to be able to sleep in a new environment - he usually can't; but he's been out like a light and feels almost bouncy.
Of course this might have something to do with the same reason that he's now comfortably sore and somewhat hoarse. He flexes his thighs together just to feel the sting and smiles to himself. Hikaru is so good at what he does, just thinking about gets him -
'You look like you've just been shagged out of your mind,' says Scott.
The Comrade starts out of his reverie. Fuck! Hikaru is making him soft. He glances around for the tovarishchs who have been strategically placed at tables of their own. They nod or wink at him depending on who they are.
'You look like shit,' says Comrade Chekov. 'How are you bearing up?'
'You know then?'
Scott's voice is flat. There's nothing in his eyes.
'My condolences,' says the Comrade with insincerity. He's still annoyed that Scott managed to sneak up on him. 'Poor Sarah.' He tries to conjure up an image of what the woman looked like but can't. 'At least the children are ok, da?'
'Is that supposed to make me feel better? Don't talk to me like you care!'
Chekov taps his right index finger twice on the table to signal the girls to hold it. A couple of them can get a little trigger happy if they think his safety is in danger.
'Hikaru was right. You are a fool.'
The words are out of his mouth before he realises that he has forgotten the honorific at the end. The less people that know exactly how close their 'partnership' is, the better. Maybe Scott is too grief-stricken to notice.
Scott looks up sharply. 'What-'
'You put them in danger. You vith your refusing to take allies and your refusal to go into protection. You left them out there exposed. Vhy should I care? Do you know who I am?'
Scotty blinked. 'Who you are?'
Pavel is so angry at himself for exposing his one weakness. He can't be sure that Scott hasn't heard. He hates himself for being so stupid, hates Scott for being so foolish with his families' safety and calling on him for revenge and most of all he hates Hikaru for putting him into this position.
'Listen carefully - I give you some adwice. I do not tell zis story to just anyvun. Vhatewer rumours you have heard about me, about the fifth of Nowember in fifty-eight. Zey are all true.'
'They say that you killed -'
'My grandfather loved me best,' says Comrade Chekov. 'It would have passed to me once he vas gone. I would have taken care of zem, if zey'd just accepted it.' He sighs. He feels nothing as he tells this story. It doesn’t matter. It was a lifetime ago. 'My father grew impatient, and he vas vorried that he vould be vaiting for nothing. He killed my Dedushka,' He pauses and then grins mirthlessly. 'And then I killed him. I killed him and my brother and all of the others who thought they had a right to claim what was mine. I vas sewenteen and zat is ze last time anyvun vas able to take anything from me. Do you understand?'
'Touching story. But why are you telling me this?'
'Because you're a fucking idiot!' he hisses. He has no idea why he is so angry with Scott. Why he wants to take the man by the shoulders and shake him until his head falls off. 'Vhere ze hell are your daughters? Vith your sister? I could make one call right now and have zem all blown up!'
'You wouldn't dare!'
'I vouldn't care to do it, but zat isn't the point. Ze point is you protect what's yours because if you don't anything zat happens is your fault.'
He's almost lost Hikaru once. He can't do it again.
'Ask me how many of my girls I've lost,' he spits. 'My tovarishchs? Not that I give a fuck but anyone I take into protection, stays fucking protected. You do not touch what is mine!'
Scott is staring at him uncomprehending, with a sort of glazed wonder. Comrade Chekov has had enough. 'It was Black,' he says getting to his feet. 'Consider it done. Zis conwersation is over.'
The girls rise from their own tables and flank him. He'll get them to do it. Scott won’t know that difference as long as the weapons match his own. He doesn't have time for this fuckery.
'Pavel!'
Scott is hurrying after them. And he actually has tears running down his face. Oh god, Hikaru is never going to let him live this down over how right he was about the man being a sentimental fool.
'I told you not to call me zat.'
'I - I - you're right. Of course you're right. I - I'm sorry. Thank you. I have to be there to protect my girls,' he grips the Comrade's hand with both of his. The girls look amused. Comrade Chekov glares at them and they look down giggling quietly.
'Will you - can you,' Scott clears his throat. 'Comrade Chekov, would you do me the honour of accepting my exclusive service?'
Comrade Chekov blinks. He wasn't expecting that. He's such an idiot. Of course he wants to go into Comrade Chekov's protection. Scott doesn't know the context. He doesn't know that Pavel's rant has nothing to do with him or his daughters. Hikaru will not be happy about this. Somehow that decides it.
He nods. 'Wery vell.' He glances at the youngest girl. 'Wessel, you vill liaise vith Mr Scott to have arrangements for his family made. Ze rest of you follow me.'
Scott thanks him fervently and then hugs him. Vodka pulls him off before the Comrade does anything undignified like scream.
'Don't do zat!' The Comrade dusts his coat off furiously. 'All of you! Escort Mr Scott to vhereewer he vants to go and then go back h- go back. I'll find my own vay.'
He stomps off following the riverside path. The Thames flows sluggishly. They have cleaned it up so it gleams an artificial, chlorinated blue but Comrade Chekov doesn't pause to admire it. He stops walking when his feet start to hurt and punches a code into his communicator.
'Hey, baby. How's your meeting going?' Hikaru's voice is sleepy and sated. He must have just woken up.
'Like a fucking nightmare.'
'Aw, did the nasty Scotsman upset my baby? Do you want me to cut his guts out so you can play with them? You can tell the future with entrails.'
'Shut up Hikaru. I'm not your baby.'
'Whatever you say, baby.'
Pavel cuts him off before he embarrasses himself. His hands are trembling. In the end it doesn't matter whether Scott noticed his slip or not. Even if he did, he's under Pavel's employ now. Even he wouldn't be stupid enough to try and betray him.
Comrade Chekov's Organizatsiya is a well oiled machine, each part working smoothly in tandem. Anything weak or defective is discarded and replaced. Pavel wishes he could do the same with the part of him that he thought died that November when he was seventeen. He wishes he could remove the part of him that yearns for, that screams for Hikaru whenever the other man is out of his sight. He wishes he could cut out his heart.
End Notes:
Tovarishch is Comrade in Russian. (According to wikipedia)
London Calling continues with Malice.
As always thoughts, comments and critiques are love.
Uh... if anyone wanted to write this from Scotty's PoV. What he'd been upto in between Comrade Chekov hanging up on him and this pivotal meeting and what he thinks of the Comrade’s outburst that would be more than ok. ;)