A tall ship and a star to steer her by (starwreck) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-05-23 15:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, james kirk, montgomery scott |
"Fine. Let's have a pissed off alien with dangerous chemical pheromones running around.
Who: Jim and Scotty
What: a very large sammich and trying to suss things about Gaila
When: recently
Where: Mad Monty's
Status: Complete
Rating: PG-13
Jim swung by subway before paying Scotty a visit. Because this required a 12 foot penis shaped sammich.
The place is closed and locked up. Enjoy that visit! What you can see of it from the outside, that is.
Jim picked the lock, and then guided the gigantic sub inside.
There's a even bigger sub inside, but it's no longer a sub, but a spaceship. It has rocket tanks and a nacelle and everything. The person who built it, if he was in the mood, would have proudly stared at it and proclaimed it as 'brilliant' and 'well done!' and then he'd probably start kissing parts of it. No doubt while he was giving it a hug, looking like he was plastered up against it. But there is none of that. There is a light from inside, though, and - if one listens very closely - they can probably hear the sound of deliberate fingers punching over a keyboard. And maybe it was possible to hear some numerical grumbling, out loud, now and again.
"Mr. Scott. ATTENTION!"
CLUNK! And that was the back of his head hitting some metal, because he'd bolted a little while sitting upright from his formerly slouched over position. "Bugger!"
All of the deliberate typing stopped as well, numerically mid-stream.
"I'm timing you," Jim announced!
"What? Ye cannae time me. Nae right now! Shite! Ye bastard! Ye want me tae mess up the calibrations on the turn radius or something?!" He looked very much as though he was trying to think of a way to get them out of a gravity well, hands flailing up toward his forehead for a moment, eyes bugged out a little. But, if it was a challenge, then the challenge was on, he supposed. For, even if he hadn't slept, he knew deep down that he could get it done in a timeframe. And that is why he paused, as well as eyedarted. "How long?"
"We're going to explode in fifteen minutes. Or however long it takes me to eat my share of this 12-foot subway sandwich." Jim sat down, cutting off six inches to feed Porthos.
"Och, yer a right bastard, ye are." Challenge accepted. Sandwich was one of Scotty's trigger words that had him willingly doing incredibly insane things, like beaming himself onto ships that were already in warp. Because no way was he going to let the mess hall be destroyed, without him there to protect it. That's where sandwiches lived, after all. In the Enterprise's mess hall. Any way he looked at it, though, he figured he could use the challenge to further distract himself. "Yer on."
A very bleary-eyed engineer threaded his fingers together, popped his knuckles, flapped his hands around loosely, and promptly began pounding out coding at an alarming rate. Those fingers were blazing, and Scotty - even at the best of times - was a very loud typist. Right now, it was like listening to a mini thunderstorm residing entirely inside of a tin can.
Jim and Porthos exchanged a grin, and the Captain settled back while looking at his watch, "We're losing power, Scotty! We can't take much more of this!"
A string of cursing tinted colorfully with a highlands Scots accent threatened to overtake the sound of lightning fast typing. He was beyond working double time, it had become triple or quadruple time. One more minute and a finger was slammed down on one last button, like it was a death strike on a foe.
There was some scrambling to get up on his own two feet again, on legs that hadn't been moved in a while. He also fumbled a bit trying to peek his head out of the hatch. "Done! Now where's that sandwich?"
Jim was munching on another six inch cut. He took out his phaser, cut a footlong for Scotty, and offered it, "Here you go! Swallow it a foot at a time." Snerk.
Sandwich. Scotty approached it like a zombie would approach brains. He grabbed hold, sat down where he had been standing, and starting eating. It wasn't as enjoyable as it would've been if everything was normal and Gaila was still around, but his body was saying it needed food and he'd ignored it for too long. It looked like he was about to inhale it.
"Remember to chew, Scotty." Jim laughed, and took another bite. He phasered some more for Porthos.
Scotty just waved a hand in a dismissive way, like he remembered how to eat! Don't you be dictating how to do that to him, for he is the eating master.
Jim held up a hand like 'okay okay man! go forth and eat with your bad self.'
He is! And it's gone in an instant. He sat back, with half-opened eyes, apparently placated by the Food God known as Sandwich.
Indeed, he has worshiped at the altar of Sandwich, his whole lifetime. Starting early on in life with piece and jam, and graduating to multilayered towers of sandwich.
"Another?" Jim waggled the phaser.
"Huh? No, I dinnae need any more." If it was any other time, he would've indulged. He was feeling less angry and more miserable now that he didn't have anything to focus on. It killed whatever would have remained of his impressive appetite. "I'm surprised ye even showed up. What'd ye need, then? Out with it, laddie."
"To see how you were doing," Jim replied, putting the phaser down. "And I figured that you hadn't eaten in awhile."
"Aye, well..." He paused while trying to remember just how long it had been, since he'd last eaten. He couldn't remember, but - with his stomach - eating again would've been inevitable anyway. "...it hasnae been that long."
The rest of it regarding how he was doing, was something that Scotty simply waved off with the actual wave of one hand. It was dismissed as inconsequential.
"Did you actually taste that sandwich?"
"Vaguely. It had the aftertaste of particle burn, but it wasnae entirely unpleasant. Like it was toasted in a matter, anti-matter mixer. It was sort of brilliant, actually."
"So how are you doing, Scotty? Really."
There was the tiniest 'heh' sounding scoff given, in response. It seemed he was going to be making like he was sealing off some air locks, clamming up, because there was a very long pause. It looked as though he was about to speak, then he made a 'eh' noise and shrugged one shoulder up, sharply.
That was it.
"That bad, huh? Did she go all evil Orion on you?"
"I dinnae know. I was prattling on as usual. She took offense. I couldnae understand why an' so I kept talking, tae try tae figure it out. She got angry. By then I knew there was something amiss, so I chose tae pursue it, because I figured...ye know...two people like eachother enough tae have a ring involved? Ye dinnae hide things from one another. She threw the ring in me face. I decided I'd had it, with the whole thing, and didnae want tae be treated that way...she was being more finger pointy back at me than at herself, anyway. I was tired of her 'ye cannae fix this' attitude. I took the ring, threw it past her, and that was that. More or less. In a nutshell. Over an' done, I'd suppose."
"Damn." That about summed up Jim's reaction. Just damn. He clapped a hand on Scotty's shoulder, "We need to find you a rebound one-night stand."
Both hands came up in a half-hearted whatsamatteryou gesture, and Scotty scowled fiercely at the mere thought of that.
"I dinnae want a one-night stand. What good's that goin' tae do? I'm trying tae get over her. If she wasnae in such a fine fit over her people being arses, then none of this would have happened. I dinnae know where that came from, tae be honest. She didnae get that angry before when she mentioned them...."
His voice trailed off for a moment and his gaze became unfocused, probably from lack of sleep. Or maybe because he was thinking on how weird and unlike her, it was. He blinked himself back into reality again, stubbornness setting back in again.
"It dunnae matter. Over an' done with. Like I'd said. I walked aff for once, she didnae stop me. That right there, speaks volumes, boy-o. I think I'll stick tae machinery from now on."
"Maybe she remembered something?" Jim offered, "Something bad enough that she was willing to sink a good thing rather than deal with it. We don't really know enough about her people."
"Aye? Well do yerself a favor. Dinnae ask. Or ye'd end up with the sort of flailing rage fit that I had happen." He stood up and brushed his hands off on the rear of his work pants. "Right then. Back with me nose tae the grindstone. Cheers for stopping by? She'll be ready for a test run, once I'm done with the booster rockets. Nav's done, controls are done. Life support's left, but that'll not take long tae program in the warnings, or tae get the adjustments set in through the controls. Ready, steady, go."
He made a sluggish flying off zooming motion with one hand, and clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth a couple of times.
"You're not worried about her at all? She's not answering her phone, and she didn't show up at the bar today," He grabbed Scotty's wrist. "Whatever the hell goes on with you two, we do have to worry about what she could do to other people without those shots. So I need you to put aside the hurt and anger long enough so we can do that much."
Scotty eyed Kirk's hand like if it wasn't removed in the next ten seconds, he might be missing that and have a stub for a wrist. Then he kind of directed that gaze up toward Kirk's face. It was one of those glare off moments. A tumbleweed probably could've rolled by in the background, like a old timey gunfight waiting to happen.
"Laddie. I suggest ye let gae of me, right quick," he finally spoke, as though warning him that this could go nowhere good, really fast. "I think the moment she threw the ring aff? That's when I realized it was likely through. She wanted tae be left alone. Well, guess what? She's alone now. I'm pretty much thinkin' I'd like the same bloody thing meself, at this moment."
"Fine. Let's have a pissed off alien with dangerous chemical pheromones running around. That's great for the timeline." Jim let go of Scotty's hand, angrily. "I'll handle it myself."
"Argh, damn it all," he grumbled under his breath, looking chastised, and because there was something still within himself that really still cared about what happened to her. That was even if the outer parts were only showing the bitterly angry, wounded mess that he otherwise felt like. "Tell me what ye want me tae do."
"First, I need to get that genetic material from her hairbrush. Then we need to find her and get her to a spot where we can give her the shot." Jim folded his arms.
"Good luck there. She's likely hauled arse far away, by this point. I'm guessing there wouldnae be much tae keep her lingering about." He sounded less bitter and more tired, merely thinking or talking about it. At least it was to Kirk, so he could mention Orion girls and not be stared at funny. "The other problem, is how long it'd take tae make that shot. Ye know, the longer it'd take, the further away she might get."
"Then we better get started," Jim replied, all srs cappy face.
Oh noes, not the srs capt'n face. "I sent her stuff aff with Varric."
"Great. Did you miss anything? Hair in the drain?"
"Last thing I felt like doin' was cleaning, after that. So? We can go scour, if ye'd like." He didn't even want to think about one of those glorious red hairs from the top of her head being left anywhere he had to live in, at this point. The thought made him feel a little raw, just thinking about it. "I'll go check, if you want tae look through the kitchen an' by the telly."
Jim nodded his head, though he made a face. Eew. Clogged girl hair. Had cooties!
Well, at this point, it was better than nothing. And it was either this, or they would have to explain why they needed to dig through Gaila's things, to Varric. Scotty lead the way! Up the stairs he went at a sloth's pace, looking more and more mopey by the second. He headed directly back to where the bedroom was, and began poking around, coming up with two strands that had probably come from when he'd taken the bed apart and pulled it out. Those two strands were just enough to cause him to get quivering chin syndrome, before he gave himself a mental punch to the brain and wound them around his finger, top put them in his pocket.
Jim retrieved some from the tiny shower, using the handle of a tooth brush to shove them into a baggie. He had the most grimacing face ever.
Scotty popped his head in just in time to see that.
"Och! Ye arse, I had needlenose pliers in me pocket for that! I said the kitchen an' the telly! Now ye've gone and used me toothbrush!" Someone is highly OFFENDED.
Jim glanced at him, "I panicked! I don't want cooties!"
"That's why I said kitchen an' by the telly. Ye really dinnae listen when other people tell ye things, do you?" With a roll of his eyes, Scotty disappeared for a moment and came back with a open ziplock baggie. That toothbrush was going to need bleached and boiled. Or he'd simply use his backup toothbrush and that one could move onto its next life as a detail cleaner. "I'm so glad that I bleach the bathroom out regularly, but ye reminded me now..that...aye....drains. I'll have tae tend tae those."
Because...yuck. He was not a plumber but he really didn't like having messes around. Tripping over things left laying around, especially. Hello? That was a safety hazard. In fact, the only things something like dust were ever allowed to collect on, were prized bottles of exceedingly old scotch. And that was hidden away and saved for celebrations and anniversaries. He made a face while holding the baggie out at arm's length, so Kirk could drop that glob into it.
And it wasn't like he could ever count on Gaila to clean anyway, if it was anything more than the kitchen and doing laundry sometimes. Mostly it was all on him. He might as well have worn an apron.
Kirk dropped the glob into it, grimacing, "Okay, I hope that's enough."
"Right. I hope it is, as well." Scotty zipped the baggie closed and then reached into his pocket, pulling out the wound up hairs from the bedroom floor. He'd already put them in a baggie of their very own.
"It's CSI: Starfleet."
"Oh, ha ha. Clever." Scotty paused after his glowing review of CSI:Starfleet and stared at Kirk like 'what now?'
He shrugged at Scotty, "I get this to Bones and then try to track down a red head."
"...aye...all right then." He handed over both of the baggies and stepped out of Kirk's way. He wasn't sure what else he could do, now.
Jim stopped and looked at him, as though his eyes were peeling away at layers and running all sorts of sensor scans.
He's going to be met with the wince shielding and a wave of both hands, as though it was best simply letting it go. In case there was any question, he tried his best to sound reassuring, "I'll be well enough, no worries. Ye need tae get the samples aff tae McCoy though."
"You know where to reach me." Jim headed towards the stairs.
He certainly did. But just to make sure he was still somehow kept in the loop, Scotty turned his phone back on before he decided to get lost in the last bits of programming again.