#fleetstarter

It was late on the second night of the Norway trip, and Chekov was anything but exhausted. He'd overslept that morning and had three of the marvelous frozen coffees that he'd discovered at a little cafe in the village. He really wasn't tired at all. 

He sat outside on the porch of the cabin, watching the stars above him and contemplating pulling out the textbooks he'd brought along just in case. He wished there'd be piano nearby, even though he knew that a piano in the mountains would have been highly unlikely. But still-- as a child his mother had taught him to play simple songs, and he found that playing a melody or two would help him on nights where he couldn't sleep. Nights such as this one.