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Chekov’s melodious laugh floated to you from across the rec-room, filling you with both joy and self-loathing simultaneously. The self-loathing came from your Andorian origins, how could a human, so handsome as he, love something so different? It was a question you often pondered during your spare moments.
There was once a time, you reflected, when you used to be okay with the way you looked, admire it even, but that had quickly changed when you first met Chekov. The two of you met during your first week on the Enterprise, it was outside your quarters which ran adjacent to his, he had been the first person aboard to really smile at you, and while no one had been particularly rude to you, he was the first to make you feel truly welcome.
You stared at him mournfully from across the room, then, unable to take any more you headed back to your quarters for some alone time; as it happened, the alone time didn’t help. It just gave you time to put a list together in your head of reasons he would date you vs reasons he wouldn’t; your mind even compartmentalised it into a little chart.
With a final decisive grunt, you pushed yourself up and glared at your reflection in the desk mirror. Was it really that bad? Perhaps not but it still didn’t change the fact that you didn’t meet human beauty standards; it almost made you want to smash the mirror. You took a deep breath and delicately fingered a makeup bag which you had planned to use for disguises on away missions; it seemed that today it would finally be used, albeit for something other than its intended purpose.
The bag contained makeup from various planets, it had foundations in a variety of colours but you chose a palette that reflected earth tones and applied it to any showing skin liberally, covering all the blue fairly quickly. Next you found mini cans of hair spray, once again you picked your desired colour and sprayed your hair. After the makeup was finished and you were looking remarkably human you came to the problem of your antennae, something which no amount of makeup would hide. You pondered the problem for a moment, “I could wear a hat… no, humans don’t tend to wear those indoors… OH RIGHT!”
You perked up upon remembering that you had an Alice-band tucked away at the bottom of a drawer (it was a gift that hadn’t been well thought out at the time). With a pained gasp, you place the hairband tightly over your antennae; it was both painful and uncomfortable but as you gazed entranced at your reflection there was no doubt that it had been worth it. With the new disguise and new confidence, you ran off to find Chekov and introduce yourself.
You bumped into Chekov on your way out of your quarters, he looked back and forth from you and your room in confusion, trying to decide where the other person who lived there was.
“H-hello,” you offered meekly.
“Hello,” Chekov replied, “Sorry but are you new here?”
“Yes, I… just got transferred, my name’s uh…” you looked around for anything that could be a name, then in a panic you saw a red light on the wall, “Red Alert.”
“Red Alert?”
“Old earth nickname from some friends,” you improvised, all the while thinking, “Red Alert? RED ALERT! WHO ON EARTH IS CALLED RED ALERT?!… Okay, calm down, could be worse, I could’ve said sparkplug, that would’ve been really stupid.”
“Oh, vell it’s nice to meet you Red, I’m Pavel Andreievich Chekov but to you just Chekov,” he beamed that dazzling smile of his, the one that you loved more than anything, “I don’t mean to be rude but do you know what happened to Cadet (L/N), (s)he used to be in your room.”
“Yes, um (s)he was transferred to where I used to be, we kind of,” you made a crossing motion with your arms, then squeaked, “swapped.”
“Oh, velcome aboard zhen.”
After that Chekov stayed a short while to tell you about the ship and the crew, things you already knew of course but you listened intently anyway. However, as he explained, he couldn’t shake a feeling of familiarity about you, it was almost as if he’d seen you somewhere. Before saying goodbye he couldn’t help but offer a tour around the ship, “Maybe if I show Red around I’ll figure out why (s)he seems so familiar,” he reasoned, “It’s a shame though, I really did like (Y/N), maybe one day (s)he’ll come back so I can say how I really feel.”
Your plan had almost worked without a hitch. Almost. At the start of the tour you had earned several scrutinising gazes from fellow crew members but none of them had been able to recognise you; why should they? It wasn’t often that life warranted a disguise. It seemed that Chekov had been truly warming up to you and in truth he was enjoying showing you around; he enjoyed your commentary and good humour.
The big reveal had happened when the two of you met Mr Spock in a hallway, Spock inspected you intently, trying to figure out your need for a disguise with a raised eyebrow.
“Ah, this is Mr Spock,” Chekov introduced you eagerly, “Mr Spock, this is-”
“Cadet (L/N),” Spock finished knowingly.
You froze nervously as Chekov questioned Spock in a confused manner, “Vhat? Nyet (no), this is-”
“I assure you that that is (Y/N), although I am uncertain as to why the makeup is required.”
Chekov turned, studying your face then paling as he realised that Mr Spock was indeed correct. He wondered how he could have possibly missed you, especially with such a weak background story, “(Y/N), I don’t understand, vhy vould you… Vhere are your… Vhy?”
You peeled the Alice-band back with a sigh, allowing your antennae to return to their usual position, “I just…” you didn’t know where to begin, the truth seemed like a good start, “I didn’t think you could possibly like an Andorian the way I like you… because we look so different.”
“Zhe vay you like me… Vhat vay is zhat?”
“Facinating,” muttered Spock, “It would appear that Cadet (L/N) harbours romantic emotions towards you however due to your biological differences (s)he felt unable to express them.”
“I got zhat, zhank you Mr Spock.”
“In that case I will excuse myself from further interaction,” he left the two of you alone in the hallway.
“(Y/N), do you really think zhat I’m zhat shallow? If you’d have only asked zhen you’d know-”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, fresh tears trailed lines in your makeup, showing the blue skin underneath, “I didn’t know what to do… I know so little about humans and their courtship rituals; everything seems so intricate and romantic, I just wanted to do it right.”
Chekov loathed hearing the sadness in your voice, it was something he desperately wanted to remedy, however he couldn’t think of any eloquent line to use, all he could say was, “I like blue.”
You perked up, shocked at such a simple statement, it turned your frown into a smile, then your smile into a laugh; the situation had been a silly one and suddenly the funny side showed itself, making you giggle uncontrollably.
“It’s weird,” you chortled, “All this time I hated the way I looked because of you and now we’re here and… It’s just weird.”
“Most definitely, you should know zhat I’ve always admired you from afar (Y/N), you are wery krasivaya.”
“What does that mean?”
“Beautiful.”
If you could have blushed under all the foundation you would have, instead you opted for offering your hand, “Care to walk me back to my quarters?”
“Vell, since you’re new and all Red Alert,” he used the name playfully, accepting your hand in the process.
“You’re not going to let that go, are you?” you deadpanned.
“Nyet (no).”