A tall ship and a star to steer her by (starwreck) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-08-08 21:44:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, james kirk, montgomery scott |
Don’t forget the dilithium, Mr. Scott
Who: Bellakirk and Scotty
What: Trolling Scotty
When: same day he trolled McCoy
Where: Scotty's scrapyard
Status: complete
Rating: PG-13 for flirting
McCoy successfully trolled.
Jim was looking forward to trolling Scotty even more. There was just something about that Scotsman. Maybe the way his face turned red when he was yelling, or how indecipherable his english became, but he was fun to mess with. Maybe it was the fact he messed with him back.
Regardless, a drop dead gorgeous blonde in a too short skirt and too tight top sauntered into Scotty’s shop....
Whatever a drop dead gorgeous blonde wearing that was doing in a scrapyard shop, Scotty just could not figure out. It was enough that his jaw dropped wide open, and then he promptly dropped what looked like a carburetor, directly onto his foot.
Thank goodness for steel toe work boots. That still didn't feel cool for the part that wasn't his toes, but he wasn't about to cry like a girl about it. Why? Because hot woman. That's why.
He practically tripped over the component in question in his rush to get over there, or limb over there, to her.
What to say...what to say...what to say....
"...'ello!" There. That was a good start. Maybe grinning that much was a bit overkill, but teeth gnashing helped prevent any ouch noises originating from the ache on the top of his foot. "Do ye need any help finding some scrap metal or....why're ye here, lass?"
His mouth word vomited that out, before his brain could hit the brakes before questioning any good fortune. That's right, Scotty, just spit in lady luck's eye, why don't you.
Jim nodded his head, hair bouncing in waves on his shoulders. He reached into a purse and pulled out a scrap of paper. "I need a new....fuel Injector..and I was directed here because the store was really really expensive!"
Oh she was so pretty. Scotty was smitten. Sappy faced and everything.
"O'course. One fuel injector, comin' right up! What's it goin' intae if ye dinna mind my asking?"
“A car,” he replied, in a like duh tone of voice, before adding. “1969 mustang convertible? White. Can you help with that?” He sauntered closer, a grin on his (her?) face.
Scotty refrained from going DUH back at her, because he was a sucker for a pretty face. but if one is replacing a fuel injector, then the person supplying the part has to know the make and model of the machinery in question. Derp.
Saundering over helped keep him from saying any of that.
"...aye, I think I can help ye with that," he absently murmured, before he started eyedarting wildly, looking all around the shop and office area. Wasn't this the way porn flicks started? He was hardly porn flick material. Did someone hire a hooker for him? That had to be it. It had to be. It was hardly a pool cleaner or pizza delivery scene, but this usually didn’t happen. Because Scotty didn’t do much in the way of advertising. It was a number in a phonebook (“Bring me your junk!”) and that was pretty much it.
"...what place was it that sent ye here, again? Ye dinnae say."
Leaning on something that allowed him to give Scott an eyeful, Jim replied, “Oh, this nice man I ran into when I was in the car store. He said you’d give me a really really good deal!”
"...aye...och...aye..." Aye indeed, Mr. Getting An Eyeful. He almost forgot to keep looking the gift horse in the mouth. Fine, he forgot for now, but he'd probably be thinking WTF is going on here, before too long. "I'll have tae check the computer, ye realize, tae pull that part. Dew ye mind waiting here a moment while I pop over tae dew that?"
“I don’t mind at all,” he replied, leaning back and bouncing a little perkily. He really really hoped he was about to receive a text message or phone call.
He couldn’t help but lean back in and run one smooth, nimble hand up Scotty’s arm, and say in a breathy voice. “Thank you. So much.”
"........okie dokie, then." Scotty's voice was so high pitched, that maybe Porthos heard it.
Or not, because that dog was raiding the fridge for sandwich makings again. It was fair trade, since he was going to be the test dummy in yet another teleporting experiment. He's got to get paid somehow.
Scotty was already backing away while pointing off in the direction of the computer, like he is going that way, without looking where he's going. And that is why he bashed the back of his head against a pipe that was jutting out of a jumble of machinery, belted out a loud "DAMMIT YE FECKIN' PIPE BASTARD!", and looked appropriately sheepish after for having yelled like an asshat in front of a hot chick.
Off to the computer he goes, to check the inventory and see what section of the scrapyard he might be able to pull that part from.
Jim laughed appropriately girlishly, and turned around to lean against the counter and look out over the assorted junky odds and ends. “Do you have any special projects going on? I mean, a man of your obvious technical skill has to have all sorts of things to put his hands on.”
Scotty fumbled with the mouse, gave up the juggling match and batted it away so it landed with a kerthunk on the top of the table.
"...uh...AYE! I mean, aye, I deeeew, but they're...oh they're here an' there, around an' about, up an' doon....'round the bend." His eyes went shifty again and he had to make himself shut up before he said anything incriminating. "This an' that, little things. Toasters! Aye, toasters. That's what I make in my free time. Toast. Lots o' it. It's quite toasty."
She purred in his direct. "I like toast. But that's it? Just toast...nothing..impressive?" He wriggled his shoulders a bit, squeezing his breasts between his arms on accident.
And there went a whole lot of tools and pencils and ipads and everything that had been on that table, right onto the floor.
"NAE, NOTHIN' IMPRESSIVE! ONLY TOAST!" Scotty bellowed over the clattering that echoed throughout. "REALLY IMPRESSIVE TOASTERS! They're nae here, they're at the...assembly plant...in Japa-tai-orea-ina."
Which wasn't a real country before this moment, but Scotty's brain (what's left of it) is insisting that it is. And it's somewhere smushed between Japan, Taiwan, Korea, and China. It's roughly the size of Luxembourg and they're famous for their state of the art toasting-ware.
“Can I see one?” She said excitedly, and bounced into..wherever Scott had disappeared to. “My toast always comes out burnt on one side!”
It was really only a table in a far corner of the shop, with odds and ends, doodles, mathematical formulations scribbled across everything, and a computer. Half of which was now on the floor.
"Och! Nae, ye kinna see any o' them because....because...they've been sent off tae that far away overseas place where they build things on the cheap, under terrible working conditions and I feel dirty simply talking about it, or toast, or anything related tae appliances. Seeeeeew? I'm aff tae find that fuel injector!"
“Don’t forget the dilithium, Mr. Scott,” Jim said, in the most authoritive tone he could must in this body, which was actually a pretty impressive one.
Scotty unthinkinglyreplied, "Aye, Cap'in, I definitely woooo---oah, what the hell?!"
Both hands flew up into the air, before grasping onto both sides of his head, eyes round as saucers and mind totally blown to smithereens.
Jim burst into laughter, hands wrapping around his stomach as he almost doubled over. “Oh my god, Scotty, the look on your face!”
So much for trying to find out who sent him a hooker! Scotty swiped up whatever was in arm's reach - a a tightly compacted ball of crumpled up post-it notes - and threw them at girl!Kirk's head.
"Arse! I knew it was tae good tae be true!" He made like he was going to have Kirk meet the business end of a work boot, but the kick stopped short of landing. "How did THIS happen! Were ye playing with the transporters an' ye fucked up the settings?"
Someone hasn't been on the network lately.
“God I wish it was that easy. I was having coffee with ..well this woman, who I used to know, and the next moment I’m staring at myself.” He groped his tits. “But it’s kind of a fair trade off. God the look on your face right now, I should have taken a picture.”
"...woman ye slept with," Scotty corrected like they both knew better, "at some point or other, because I dinna think ye'd be daft enough tae sleep with someone else now that you're married tae the Harry Potter girl."
That was said with a profound note of DUH in it, only with a Scottish lilt. That lilt went to hell in a handbasket when he pointed at Kirkette and yelled, "Could ye stop grabbin' those like that?!"
“Long time ago,” Jim reassured his friend, but he was grinning like a cat who caught the canery. “It really was a random coffee meeting. Didn’t even know she was in town. This french woman.”
"Oh, so she's French," Scotty chimed back at his friend, a little too sweet sounding, "past addition tae the menagerie? Yer still an arse. But are ye an arse who's certain it wasn't a transporter malfunction? Because if it is, then...I'm gonnae have tae make adjustments with the settings again."
“It wasn’t a transporter malfunction. I wish it was that simple.” Jim rested his hands on his hips. “Apparently we’re not the only ones. You’re missing some golden trolling opportunities on the network right now, Scotty.”
“Dinna dew that,” Scotty said, pointing an accusing finger at Kirk’s putting those hands on those girl hips. “It isnae right. I mean, that you’re the one doin’ that in that body, not the trolling opportunities, because those’re usually priceless. I’ve been busy! Ye know, with my ship? An’ with tryin’ tae make the modern equivalent of a transporter work. The buffer’s hard enough tae replicate on it’s own! I mean, o’course, I can manage. I’ll have that done in three months. Neeeeeeew problem!”
“Bella has leave to do anything that doesn’t leave babies around,” Jim said, shrugging. Like he’d decided that his body deserved a little hurrah. “Need any help? With anything? I miss our lady.”
"I've got it under control, Captain, with the help. She'll be back behind the moon in no time at all. " There was a pause before he looked profoundly offended. "Och! She's my ship-wife now, because you arses lost that right when ye crashed her. Me poor ship! She was wounded, an' in cruel an' unusual ways! Ye got your own wife. Dinna try to bust her up either, or she'll turn ye intae a rat for a week an' ye'd deserve it, ye rat bastard!"
So bemoaned Scotty, over his poor injured ship-wife. He'd hug onto a beam or two later, and tell her how sorry he is that she had been abused like that and that he’d fix everything right again, because that’s what engineers do. Everyone else has absolutely no respect for machinery. The brutes.
“You can’t blame me for crashing her,” Jim replied back, voice rising to a higher pitch. “She took a direct hit that cut right through her shields! Several of them!” He even flailed his arms and looked even more girly.
Scotty practically made a troll face back at girl!Kirk, right then and there.
"Ye sound a wee bit emotional, Cap'in. Hope it isnae that time o' the month, where auntie Flo comes for her regular visit."
“Oh my god do not even joke about that Scotty, or I’ll ban you from the Enterprise for a week.” He pointed at his friend, mostly joking. However, he was now incredibly paranoid at the very thought.
“This is horrible.”
“I think it’s hilarious! There's probably a whole lot of lassies who would think it karma kickin' ye in the bum," Scotty pointed out, grinning wildly. "Have ye told ol' Pointy-Ears yet? If he wasn't laughing on the outside, then I bet he was on the inside!"
“He’s aware. I don’t think he’s laughing. Except he might be, in his almost Vulcan way.” He smiled wryly, an expression that almost didn’t seem to fit Bella’s face. “I think I’m already feeling bitchy.”
"No, that's simply the way everyone feels about the Vulcan?" replied Scotty with a wince, not wanting to incur the wrath of anything female. Because they do get bitchy, he knows this, and he just does.not.want.
"Oh, don't get me started on Spock," Jim said darkly, pretty features furrowing. "Save a man's life and he costs you your ship. And the damn thing is I know we're supposed to be friends and even there we're..not."
James Kirk. Still butthurt.
"I think ye got a ache in yer anal canal," Scotty joked, even if he was being serious at the same time. He stopped to get them both a beer, holding a bottle of it out to Kirk. "Ye kinna expect a Vulcan tae be warm an' fuzzy toward anyone. Wait." He held up one hand like it's a red light and time to stop for a moment. "How did ye know you're both friends again?"
Jim took the bottle and opened it. “Just something I felt. In the dreams.” It was lame and he knew it, but how crazy was ‘older Spock mind fucked me and I saw THINGS’?
"Since ye got girl hormones running amuck in ye, laddie? Now's probably the best time tae say it, because, let's face it? I'll judge ye less. Because you've become someone cute an' I feel dirty for thinking that."
That’s right, Scotty. What would ship-wife say? You cad.
"I met the Spock from Nero's time. We melded minds. Shit, I really should have realized...I didn't until I heard Harrison's real name..." He sighed, exhaling. "I saw Spock's death. Because of Khan."
"Och, right. I knocked meself senseless an' remembered quite a bit. I mean, I dreamed quite a bit. I mean...ye know what I mean." Scotty had a migraine just remembering the ouch, but there was simply no other way for his thick skulled self to dream anything. "I remember the whole you savin' me arse bit and...wait, so...ye mean, the other Spock that's not our Spock died, but if he died, then how did other Spock live an' make it intae our timeline an' let ye know that he died?"
Time to breathe. Scotty gulped down a breath and then took a very long drink of beer, while oogly eyed at the time-bending oogliness of time travel.
"That I'm not entirely sure about. Something to do with a device Carol Marcus made. But I have no idea if she'll ever make that kind of discovery." Jim took a long swig of the beer. "Mostly, the mind meld was...images and sounds. They sometimes clicked into place when something jogged them."
"Seeeeeeeeeew, yer saying that Mr. Spock gave ye a jogging," came the sly Scottish insinuation of pervy things. The leering smile and eyebrow wagging didn't help matters. "New wonder ye feel so hurt o'er being slighted."
“Yeah, he gave me a great big Jogging.” He put his hand to his forehead, damsel in distressy, and mock swooned. In the best southern accent he could manage he declared, “And then he left me in the lurch!”
"Ooooch, did he now?" Scotty sing-songed, playing along. "He seems like he wouldnae do that unless he sent ye a formal letter outlining why he'd be leaving, including several key points of debate, with footnotes."
“He pretty much did,” Jim said, tone going dry. Then he shook his head. “Eff him. I fucking die for him.” There hadn’t been a dream since that. He didn’t know if there was even a heaven. It felt wretched.
"I'd like tae point out that it wasnae only for him ye did it, but for all o' us," a suddenly sober sounding Scotty said. And you can say that ten times, fast. "Furthermore, m'gonnae put in a request, that ye kinna deny. I'm gonnae punch ye in the face first opportunity I get. Fucker."
Well someone remembers that, apparently! Scotty was staring at Jim with a serious stare, that made it known he shouldn't have done that, because dreaming about a reckless but brave friend diving into a warp core to wrestle it barehanded was not what he considered an enjoyable experience. Neither was waking up with a huge headache.
He couldn’t help it. He gave Scott a bit of a smirk, then laughed. “I’ll deserve it, but it was still worth it. You’re right. For all of you. I just think that last moment is so....raw...If it wasn’t me, it would have been him. He would have gone in there instead.”
"You're both brave an' stubborn sorts, an' you're both bleedin' mad in your own ways." Scotty shrugged before sighing a little bit. "Can we maybe try t'not do that again, though? There's already so few o' us here, that remember anything at all. You’re also one o’ the few friends I have, laddie. Even if you’re a bampot."
He put his hand over his heart, with a joking squeeze, and intoned seriously. “I solemnly swear to not step into any radiation filled rooms unless the fate of the world hangs in the balance.”
"Cheers tae that!" Scotty took a drink and nearly coughed, as he tried to quickly amend, "The swearing solemnly! Nae the squeezy part!"
“I knew you were looking.” Jim grinned at Scotty, and then raised his beer in toast!
"Lookin' but never touching!" Scotty replied followed by a whoooooooole lotta drinking.
And that’s the way it would be...Eagle 1 and Eagle 2....