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Pavel Chekov’s shore leave had gone very well. He was tanned and relaxed and happy to be heading back to the Enterprise refreshed. He was greeted all around as he beamed aboard and made his way to his quarters.
Inside his room, he dropped his small bag on his bunk and headed for the sonic in the bathroom.
Once cleaned and in uniform, Chekov began to unpack his things. Clothes went into the hamper for later. A few small trinkets were dumped unceremoniously onto the bed. He frowned as he picked one up.
With his last few credits from the planet he had attempted to impress a woman he’d spent some time with. A little midway type place nearby had offered silly games and dumb prizes. Chekov had hoped to win her something nice to leave a good impression.
Instead he had only won the thing he was currently holding. He didn’t even know what to call it. The woman had left and he had collected himself to return to the Enterprise.
He looked again at the trinket in his hand. It was about the length of his hand and wrapped in a type of checkerboard pattern with both ends open. It thinned towards the middle, but was wider at both open ends.
Chekov held it up and looked through it. He couldn’t see what purpose it served. With a shrug and a sigh he dropped it on the bed again and left for the mess hall.
Chekov fell onto his bed after an uneventful shift. Something poked his arm and he moved to see what it was. It was the prize he had won. He lifted it and again wondered what it’s purpose was. Chekov looked through its opening again. Holding it in front of his face, he slipped his first finger in by accident.
“Oh.”
Chekov used his other hand to pull it away, but it did not budge.
“What?”
His eyes widened. The trinket was stuck on his finger. He pulled again, harder, and it felt as if the trinket tightened itself on his finger.
“Oh no!”
He sat up. Chekov looked around for anything that might help.
“Oh! I know!”
A moment later his other first finger was also stuck in the trinket. Now Chekov jumped up from his bed, looking around his quarters frantically. A long string of Russian curse words trailed behind him as he looked for something, anything to release him from this predicament.
The turbolift doors opened, and Dr. Leonard McCoy stepped onto the bridge. Glancing around, he moved forward to stand next to Captain Kirk in his command chair. It wasn’t an unusual place for the chief medical officer to be, but not common on any ship but the Enterprise.
“Ah, Bones,” the captain said, turning in his chair to see who had come from the lift.
“Captain,” McCoy replied. “What new crisis are you flying us towards now?”
“None that I know of,” Kirk said with a grin. “Yet,” he added holding one finger aloft.
“Joy,” McCoy said sarcastically.
“Say Bones, how much longer are you going to have Chekov off duty?”
“What?” McCoy frowned at the captain.
“Is he getting any better? It’s been three days already.”
“What are you talking about?” McCoy asked. “I don’t have Chekov in medbay. Medbay is empty at the moment, and hopefully going to stay that way.”
“Then where’s Chekov? He’s worked one shift since we left orbit and called out the others.”
“Where’s Chekov indeed,” McCoy said. He turned to leave the bridge.
“Where are you going Bones?” Kirk asked.
“To pay a visit to our young navigator.”
McCoy spent the short trip to Chekov’s quarters wondering what was wrong with the Russian that he had called in sick but hadn’t reported to medbay.
“Some damn thing he thinks is embarrassing no doubt,” McCoy grumbled to himself, preparing to give the younger man a lecture about staying safe.
He reached Chekov’s quarters and pressed the chime. McCoy allowed a few moments to pass before pressing it again. When still nothing happened, McCoy raised his fist and banged on the door.
“Chekov, I already checked with the computer, I know you’re in there. Let me in,” he called.
Faintly he heard a burst of Russian.
“C’mon kid, open up.”
“Uh, no Doctor.”
“Chekov open this door,” McCoy demanded.
“Nyet Doctor, I’m sorry.”
“Alright kid, you asked for it,” said McCoy.
He punched his CMO override code into the door panel. With a hiss the door slid open and McCoy stepped into the room.
“Now, what the hell is going on here Chekov? If you’re sick why haven’t you checked into medbay?”
McCoy looked around as the door slid closed behind him. Chekov was peeping at him nervously from behind the divider that hid his sleeping area.
“Nothing is wrong Doctor. I’m not sick,” he squeaked out.
“Then why the devil have you called in sick the last three shifts?”
McCoy took a breath.
“Did something happen on your shore leave?”
“Nyet.”
“Chekov, I’m a doctor. If you picked up some alien, uh, virus, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Half this darn crew has been treated for alien STDs. I’ll get a hypo; simple fix.”
McCoy watched Chekov’s face flush bright red.
“Nyet! Nyet! No no Doctor! It’s not that!”
“Then out with it! Or I’m marching you to the captain myself.”
“Please Doctor… do not tell anyone. Please…” Chekov hung his head and reluctantly walked out of his sleeping area.
“Pavel…” McCoy’s eyes widened slightly as he looked at Chekov holding his hands awkwardly into front of himself. “You said it wasn’t…”
“It’s not!” Chekov said quickly. He raised his hands so McCoy could see. “I’m… I’m trapped!”
“Chekov…” McCoy smothered a laugh, and bit the inside of his lip to keep from smiling. He stepped closer to the younger man. “How, uh, how did this happen?”
“I was trying to impress a girl, and this was the prize I won. She wasn’t impressed. I didn’t know what it was and my finger got stuck, so I tried to push it out with my other hand and then it got stuck! I can’t get my fingers free and I’ve tried everything and the data library had nothing and…”
“Ok, ok,” McCoy put up a hand to stop the flow of words. “So you’ve been in here the last three days stuck in a Chinese finger trap?”
“Da.”
McCoy held back another grin at the sad tone.
“You’ve never played with a finger trap before?”
“Nyet Doctor. I didn’t know what to call it. Is that its name?”
“Yes. Now, let’s get you out of that and back to work.” McCoy moved closer again and took Chekov’s hands in his own.
“Doctor, you really won’t tell anyone?” Chekov asked nervously.
“Of course not Pavel; you’re a patient. My lips are sealed. Ok, here you go.”
McCoy pushed Chekov’s hands towards each other and then gently pulled each finger out.
“There you go, all free.”
“Doctor! How?”
McCoy chuckled. “I haven’t seen one of these in years, not since Joanna was little and had birthday parties.”
“They let children play with these?” Chekov asked in disbelief.
“Sure; it’s great fun.” McCoy inserted his own fingers to demonstrate.
“Doctor! No!”
“Harder you pull to get out the tighter it gets.” McCoy pulled his fingers apart as the middle of the trap thinned and lengthened slightly.
“Da! Exactly!”
“Relax and push together and pop! Out you go.” McCoy set the trap into Chekov’s hand. “Be more careful with things you win on leave next time.”
“Yes Doctor,” Chekov answered absently, looking anew at the trinket in his hand.
“I’ll tell the captain you’ll be back on tomorrow.”
“Thank you Doctor.”
“No problem. And Chekov?”
“Da?”
“Next time don’t wait three days.”
“Da da, of course Doctor. Thank you!”
McCoy left the room and took in a deep breath in the hallway. He took a few steps to a wall comm.
“McCoy to Captain Kirk.”
“Kirk here.”
“Mr. Chekov will be on duty tomorrow.”
“Everything alright? What was it?”
“I’ll tell you someday. Or maybe he will. But not now Jim. Not now.”
McCoy clicked off the comm. He began the walk to medbay, waiting until he reached his office to let out the laugh he’d been holding back.