sabine1392 (sabine1392) wrote in startrek_crack,
sabine1392
sabine1392
startrek_crack

This is the Life, Every Single Day (2)

Title: Chapter One: Captain Fine (follows Prologue: Metropolis, Meet Smallville)
Author: sabine1392
Summary: Their first assignment together, a piece on pollution of the bay, goes horribly, horribly wrong, right in the worst possible place.
Rating: PG-13, for swearing
A/N: It's an AU where the Star Trek characters are actually characters in the DC Universe. WHAT WHAT IN THE BUTT?!

Written for shewhohashope's prompt: Superhero AU




Jim, in the week since he started working at the Daily Planet, has taken to following Pavel everywhere. And talking. And asking questions. And… bouncing. If Pavel hadn’t seen that intensity underneath it all, seen the fierce smile that warmed him to the other man, he would think that Jim was just an over-eager, fresh-faced young reporter.

But he had.

And Pavel Chekov was never one to turn down a mystery. That’s why he’s an investigative reporter, after all.

And as an investigative reporter, he knows to trust his gut. Knows that his instincts are often correct, and that hunches are not to be ignored. So, mild-mannered Jim Kirk, who blushed and stuttered one moment and grinned like a wild cat the next? Well, Pavel knows there’s something more there.

But he can’t put his finger on what that something is. He’s looked into Jim’s past, dug up school records and family obituaries and newspaper articles. But Pavel can’t find anything suspicious. Nothing at all. And that’s almost more suspicious than anything.

So Pavel will watch, watch and wait, until something happens to catch his attention.

He just doesn’t know how long that’s going to take.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

Their first assignment together, a piece on pollution of the bay, goes horribly, horribly wrong, right in the worst possible place.

Everything had been working fine at first. Pavel and Jim had researched levels of toxicity in the bay from 1979 to 2009, and Pavel had been pleasantly surprised when Jim had put together, without any prompting from Pavel, that many of the spikes in contamination lined up with buildings owned by Spock Enterprises closing and relocating.

Maybe the kid has a good head on his shoulders after all.

They hear, a week later, about the closing of another Spock Enterprises warehouse. It’s a holding place for farm machinery, is what the workers say, when they interview them. But when Jim, oh so subtly, slides one worker a fifty, not only is Pavel surprised, but the worker spills. Apparently, the manual laborers have no idea what kind of machinery is actually housed in he warehouse, only that it looks complicated, and contains a lot of jars of glowing green liquid.

Pavel notices Jim blanches at this. He files it away for future reference.

On the night of the closing, they sneak out to the bay, hiding behind crates and peering into the dark night. Finally they see it, a large cement mixer that backs up to the bay, opens its valve and begins to pour the glowing green liquid into the bay.

That’s when Pavel strikes, leaping over the crates, reporter badge in hand, snapping pictures on his cellphone and slithering over to the driver’s side of the cement mixer. He slides his cellphone deep into a hidden pocket of his trench coat, and climbs up the side of the truck, peering into the driver’s seat. He’s about to turn to Jim, whom he’s sure is right behind him, and say that there’s no one there, when he feels the blunt mouth of a gun being pressed into the small of his back.

“Don’t even think about moving,” growls a very deep voice.

Pavel rolls his eyes. “Can’t you think of something a little less clichéd to say? I have to write all this down, you know. I want it to at least sound original.”

The voice chuckles. “Oh, a feisty one then. Well, sweetheart, wouldn’t want a tasty little treat like you getting all filled with holes before I had a chance to try out any already existing ones.” The gun presses harder into the small of his back. “How’s that for original?”

Pavel’s eyes widen. This is new. This is new, and big, and scary, and Pavel, while being the Daily Planet’s best action-investigative reporter, is still only seventeen.

And then he’s being hit on the back of the head, and things are going black, and it fucking hurts, and he’s waking up in a building filled with the self-mutilated faces of the Romulus gang. And Pavel knows that he’s in way over his head, and that he’s probably going to die.

But he also knows he’s not going down without a fight.

The leader, it’s obvious he’s the leader from the way he’s goddamn sitting on a throne, gestures at a man to Pavel’s right and the man advances. Pavel’s ready for him though, and a roundhouse kick to the head proves to be the right move to bring the man down.

There’s someone behind him, and Pavel smashes his head backwards, catching the other man on the nose. He hears a crack and then he’s off, running and dodging between the grasping hands of the Romulans.

He doesn’t make it far though. There are too many of them. He’s finally brought, kicking and screaming, before the feet of the leader. He looks up into those black eyes and that tattooed face and he knows this is the true face of the Mob.

Things go to shit after that.

While he’s on the warehouse floor, writhing and screaming and spitting like a cat, there comes a tremendous noise. It’s like a giant is knocking on the padlocked warehouse doors.

And then the doors are no longer. They’ve been kicked in by the handsomest man Pavel has ever seen, and boy is he ashamed of thinking that while he’s being held by Romulans on the floor of a Spock Enterprises warehouse in the middle of a piece. But, hey. This guy is just that hot.

He’s got dirty blonde hair, and he’s wearing a beat up leather jacket. There’s a motorcycle behind him. Pavel sucks in a breath. Everyone’s looking at this guy, this guy who just kicked down the doors of a warehouse. It’s time to escape.

He extricates himself, slowly, from the grip of the Romulan holding him, and crawls quietly to the side of the warehouse, where the lights don’t shine. He’s aware of the leather-jacket guy talking, but he can’t quite focus on the words. He’s small and scared and he wants to go home. Fuck leather-jacket guy. Pavel just wants to get out of here.

But, as he reaches the corner of the warehouse, huddled in the shadows, he turns and catches a glimpse of leather-jacket guy, surging forwards and catching a Romulan, renowned for their strength and speed, on the jaw with his fist, downing the gang-member in one fell swoop. At this, all of the other Romulans, except the leader, lurch into action, swarming this one guy.

And Pavel watches as leather-jacket guy, outnumbered twenty to one, knocks out every Romulan systematically, one by one, until there’s no one left but the leader.

“Nero, nice to see you again,” leather-jacket guy sneers, hands on his hips.

The leader of the gang, Nero, sneers back. “Ah, Captain Fine. I’d wondered when I’d run into you again.”

Pavel can’t help but snicker. Captain Fine? What kind of name is Captain Fine?

The slight noise carries in the echoey warehouse. Nero and Captain Fine turn their heads at the noise. Pavel pales.

“Kid, what’re you doing over there?” calls Captain Fine, looking worried. Nero laughs.

“Ah, the infamous Pavel Chekov. Come for a story, have you? Well, you’ve got it, boy. Here’s a story for you. Watch as Nero, leader of Romulus, kills Captain Fine once and for all.”

And Pavel watches as Nero pulls out a gun, glowing green with the same liquid they saw being poured into the bay. Captain Fine’s eyes widen and he backs away.

“Say goodbye, Captain Fine.” Nero laughs and shoots the gun.

But all of the sudden, Captain Fine’s not where he was before Nero shot the gun. He’s whizzing past the Romulan and picking up Pavel in his arms, like he weighed nothing at all. And then they’re running, faster than even Pavel’s ever run, and they’re leaping and landing on the motorcycle Pavel had spied before things went mad. Or after. He can’t tell anymore.

Nero’s still shooting, aiming and missing each time as Captain Fine zig-zags them across the tarmac on his bike. And soon they’re too far away to even hear Nero. And Pavel is still scared shitless.

“Who are you?”

Captain Fine laughs and pulls the bike over by Pavel’s car, which he and Jim had parked by the pizza place. A million thoughts go through Pavel’s head at the sight of his car. How did Captain Fine know where it was? Had all this really happened? Where was Jim?

“Captain Fine, superhero. Nice to meet you, Mr. Chekov.”

And with that, he lets Pavel jump off his bike and speeds off into the night.
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