Wanna Get Ficced?

Kirk, McCoy, Scotty, and Chekov have gotten drunk together. Hee!


They get very, very drunk off passably decent whiskey mixed with soda from the hotel vending machines, and Scotty gets to the point that he starts explaining the difference between whiskey and scotch.

“They’re completely different!” He yells. Kirk and McCoy laugh. Chekov giggles and throws himself on the bed next to Scotty, and someone in the next room yells at them to “shut the fuck up; you stupid drunk bastards”.

“It’s about aging—” is as far as Scotty gets before Chekov puts a hand over his mouth.

“You are very loud Scottish man,” Chekov says.

“You’re a tiny Russian,” Scotty replies, pulling Chekov’s hand from his mouth.

“I can’t understand a goddamn word from either of you,” McCoy says with a shake of his head. “Sounds like a couple of dogs growling at one another.”

Chekov says something in Russian that Scotty responds to in engineering jargon. Kirk laughs so hard he falls out of his chair.

“That’s our cue,” McCoy says with a grin as he pulls Kirk off the floor. “Chekov, you need me to carry you home, too?”

“I am staying awhile longer,” Chekov tells him.

Scotty can only nod when McCoy throws him a look. “He’s small. I’ll hang him in the closet.”