Montgomery Scott is a miracle worker (warp_speed) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-03-28 01:14:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, gaila, leonard mccoy, montgomery scott, varric tethras |
"I can haz cheezburger?"
Who: Varric, McCoy, Scotty, Gaila
What: Bromance talk after crossedwires with the gf (detailed in this log, only), the night before. McCoy admits things! Drunken advice-ingness! From strange drunk hobo types!
When: Very late afternoon/Evening-ish
Where: Mad Dogs & Englishmen
Rating: PG-13, language
Status: Complete
In his great quest to keep things as simple as possible, things had gotten greatly complicated with the girlfriend. Those cross-wired he mentioned on the valar-net had gotten hopelessly tangled last night, so much so that he couldn't think of a way of setting them right again. Thus, he'd gone through quite a significant amount of scotch the evening prior, and had woken up hugging an empty bottle, with his trousers wrapped around his head. He's wasted the rest of the day on the internet, while trying to nurse a massive hangover with coffee and lager.
It wasn't working well, curing the hangover. Clearly, his mind told him, the best possible remedy would be more whisky.
Following that line of thinking, he'd have to go out and get obtain some. And, maybe, he thought, it might not be so bad to have some company again. He hadn't hung out with Varric for a wee while, and he had enjoyed talking to McCoy, so maybe it wasn't so bad to talk to people, sometimes.
Hopefully he didn't blether on like a girl. He was pretty sure he was doing that to the walls last night, after all. Regardless of him telling himself NOT to blether on like a girl who'd been broken up with, Scotty grabbed his phone out of his trouser pocket and dialed up McCoy. Maybe he could make some sense of things, as he seemed a pretty sensible lad.
McCoy had had an early shift since he'd started taking those more often after actually getting a social life, so he picked up right away when the ringtone he'd picked out for Scotty started going off.
"I can haz cheezburger?" he asked, by way of a greeting. "What's going on with you then, Scotty?" Well, aside the internet fuckery they'd been engaging in throughout the day that was. That was one thing that he knew about but it didn't really count as anything useful or interesting.
"You can haz cheezburger, says ceiling cat," Scotty replied, but he sounded a bit like maybe the ceiling cat had run him over a few times. With a tank. "I know ye havenae known me that long, but...I was wondering if ye'd dae a poor bastard a favor."
And Scotty sounded like, well, shit. And not the kind of shit that being hungover at all sounded like. This seemed more like McCoy at the end of his last relationship actually. "Something's worse than just being hungover." he said, completely serious. "Anything you need you've got, but uh...you want to talk about first of all?"
"Would it be bad if I said I wouldnae want tae, necessarily?" was the reply, with a very flat laugh, and even that sounded like it was forced out. "I have this thing...about soundin' like a blethering girl, oh woe is me, ye know. Scotch? Bring some? Lots of some?"
"That? I can definitely handle." McCoy told Scotty with a nod. "And you can't look more like a girl than I did in the woods this week." He could do the drinking and possibly bitching thing pretty well though. "That said, I doubt we're gonna cry on each other or anything. Meet you at Mad Dogs' maybe?"
Scotty massively eye-darted at the crying bit, as he had woken up a weeeeeeeee bit puffy-and-red-eyed that morning. Afternoon. Mid-day. Yes, that.
"Aye," Scotty was saying, still shifty eyed, even if it gave him a massive headache at the same time. "We can dae that. Sounds like a plan. Thirty minutes sound good?"
Scotty...um...just hung up the phone. So they can get their butts to the pub!
Meanwhile back at the ranch at Mad Dogs & Englishmen....
"The mast stood full, Sal twisting it in her hands as the exotic lass before her lay, legs spread, waiting," Varric was saying, his voice deep and throaty.
After getting dressed, if putting one's boots and trousers back on counted as getting dressed, Scotty dragged himself out of the garage, scuffing the soles of his boots the entire way past the submarine cabin, locked the doors, and numbly trudged toward Mad Dogs. He opened the door by leaning on it. Or, rather, he somehow figured out which way to lean from there to get it open, while not literally falling through. His head? Pounding. He also wouldn’t have noticed a zombie apocalypse in progress, nope.
Eyes? Squinty. Mouth? Frowny. Into Mad Dogs, Scotty goes, not knowing what he will yet be confronted with. Other than meeting McCoy there and drinking a lot, naturally.
McCoy had changed his shirt from the ancient medical school sweatshirt he'd dragged on, then made his way over to Mad Dogs, ready to meet Scotty and see what the actual deal was. He hadn't really asked over the phone, since that sort of thing tended to be better handled in person, but he hoped he was able to do SOMETHING about it.
"Sal had the british captain at her mercy. She brought the mast to full ramming speed, the glistening woman beneath her crying out in half-hearted protest." Varric was polishing a glass as he told his story, "Then she lifted her head, pristine lips meeting, nay, crushing those of the woman she'd spent half her career chasing. She gave herself over to the pleasure that washed through her like the sea, and the taste and sound of her prey, turned predator."
Scotty was staring at Varric, mouth hanging open a little, standing like a zombie in need of brains, sweet sweet brains, because there was a teeny tiny gleam of DIE in his eyes, at the mere mention of SMUT right now. Instead of a thorn in his side, it was like listening to someone talk about how they were going to take several needlenosed pliers and start hammering them into his ribcage with a mallet. No, he has not sat down, he is simply going to stand there, and debate if he should stay or should he go now.
Whiskey found its way in front of him.
Well, it must be in his hand then, since he has not yet sat down. Or maybe he'd wandered over to the bar, without realizing it. But there's whisky and he's going to feel a magnetic pull toward it, and there it goes, into his mouth. He felt at least 5% more human.
It quickly refilled!
That was when McCoy got in, and made his way across to Scotty, giving Varric, and his story, whatever it was today, he'd have to read it later, since there were other things on his mind right now, a nod.
"Hey," he said, nodding at his friend as he took a seat. "So. Ready for the soul baring embarrassing shit, or do we want to settle in a little first?"
"As the sun set, and the Fair Maiden weighed anchor, heading out to sea, Sal held her nemesis close to her breast, and felt something she had little experience with. Genuine happiness." Varric bowed as his audience clapped!
"Settle in first, aye?" so said Scotty, staring straight ahead, and drinking that whisky down, as quickly as possible. "Give me a few, before I start blethering. Like a girl. Sae. How're ye?" And he tried to smile, but....ahh, Varric had finished. Scotty just patted one hand down on top of the bar, in makeshift applause that the story porn torture was over.
Varric wandered over, sliding a drink over to McCoy, "You two look like someone killed your puppies."
"Got it." McCoy agreed with a nod. "And like I said, there's no more sounding like a girl than I did this weekend." Sadly it was all too true as far as he was concerned. "And I'm not bad. Little strung out from the woods but." Shrug. "Oh Varric hey." He nodded his appreciation.
"I dinnae even like dogs," Scotty morosely said, tapping a fingertip against the empty glass, for a third refill. "Ye didnae sound like a lass at all, McCoy. Really, ye thought ye did? Pfft."
Varric looked between them, eyebrows quirked.
"Aye. Camping. Horrible. The worst," he explained, or tried to. His explanation was sort of flat and half-heartedly given. "Can I just have the bottle, Varric?"
"Well who the hell's scared of a chipmunk but a toddler?" McCoy asked him, seriously. And then he frowned a little as Scotty asked for the bottle itself. "This does sound shitty."
"Aye, I fucked up." There, simple enough! He got that part out. Scotty reached up with one hand, and gave himself a little pat on the shoulder.
"I knew a man," Varric commented, refilling their glasses and not handing over the bottle. "Went camping. Squirrels found a place to bury their nuts."
"Fuck..." McCoy glanced at Varric for a second, torn between wanting to know more and not. Not that now was the time anyway. "Yeah?" he asked him, pretty sympathetically, but then, he'd had his own share of fuck ups in his life. "Hate when that happens and you're floundering."
"You've had nuts up your ass?"
"More like been a fuck up." McCoy assured him. "Can't say I've ever pissed off squirrels half as much as midgets seem to hate us."
"...ugh...nae, nae nuts up anyone's arse! Get AFF! What's wrong with ye?" Scotty just waved it off with one hand like that part was just...well, it was disgusting! Eww, squirrels! "Not really flounderin', more like sinkin' right intae it, rather. Bloody crossed wires."
"This the woman sort of sinkhole?" McCoy asked, and patted him on the shoulder.
"I'm missing something, care to let your friendly neighborhood bartender in on this?"
"Concrete details would be better, I've gotta agree with Varric." McCoy agreed, getting busy with his own drink.
"It's a woman sort of...lass-related sinkhole, aye," he admitted, albeit reluctantly. Just admitting it caused him to look miserable. And down went that glass. "Can I get another? And I suppose I should...maybe...say what happened, or else...ye know...cannae get past it or over it."
Scotty was sorting it out in his head a little bit, before taking a stab at it. It was, of course, more complicated than he would've liked.
"Irish? What happened?" Varric finally just handed him the bottle. Please god, no midgets.
No midgets were involved or hurt in the making of this or any recent logs, other than the helm's deep episode on the pool table. Then damn straight those wee people got pwned.
"Uhh...I didnae want tae say it in front of ye, since...ye know...ye might shoot me, Varric." Scotty eyed them both, and then took a deep breath, while pouring himself a very healthy amount of whisky. Down went that glass. He is in fine drinking form. "I thought everythin' was fine, that's part of the problem. Because, I dinnae think it was fine, not with her. Maybe...because....because, ye know...that part in movies where the lad and the lassie lock eyes, and then there's that big musical moment and ye say 'OH ME GAWDS THEY REALLY FANCY EACHOTHER'? That moment? Aye, well, last night....I think she was having that moment. And I realized it, but it still felt tae soon tae be having that moment....sae maybe I ruined it. By staring at her oddly."
He tilted his head, watching his old friend with a thoughtful expression on his face, "Tinker. I'm not going to shoot you. Couples have fights all the time, if I shot you every time you'd be a pincushion." Varric blinked, "Let me guess, she pulled away."
"Ah shit." McCoy said, patting him on the shoulder again. "Is it me or do they do that pretty damn fast? Like you can't even think before they say it and...you know you care a lot about them but..." In his experience, women were the ones who fell first generally. "Ugh though, seriously. That's gotta have been a real fun aftermath."
"It can happen." Varric was well acquainted with that, in fact, "Smartest thing to do is give them a bit of space at first, depending on what's going on."
"Well, aye, happened fast. She ran. Oot the door. Quite a ways."
Scotty found it easier to simply apply his face directly to the bar, rather than risk getting misty-eyed. And at only what? Four glasses in? Pathetic. Though he did give them both a thumbs up, like they were both very right about it.
"I cannae be chasing her doon like that, every damn time. It shouldnae even be that complicated. I like her, I thought she liked me...it should be rather simple. But then I tried tae explain a bit, an' she...gave me this...kiss on the cheek that was like....bein' kissed by a rock. I'm not even joking. Chilly reception. Sae, goin' tae count this a lost cause. She hasnae even contacted me since, an' I dinnae expect her tae."
"Make her come to you," Varric replied. "You obviously care about her, and she's obviously freaked out by this. Just make sure she knows you haven't closed the door."
"Ouch." McCoy whistled slowly. "I'm going back to crossed wires instead of you fucking up. Seems like the kind of thing, where, well, sticking my big nose in it, the whole thing didn't get defined much, am I right?"
"Why'd it even need defined? Shite. Nae, it wasnae defined! I thought it was pretty obvious, actions speakin' louder than words. I cannae gae chasing after a runner the entire time, an' convince some lass that she should stay every bloody time I blink me eyes, if she dunnae want tae." He threw up both hands, nearly sending the bottle toppling. It was quickly saved and hugged onto. "I have stuff tae dae, tae, ye know. What's wrong with movin' slow, either way! Bugger!"
A drunk next to Scotty slapped a hand on his back, "Girls...girlsh dey need...shtuff. Wordsh. Dey needsh wordsh. Rein...rein..for...ringforshments."
"WOOT IS THAT SUPPOSED TAE MEAN?" Scotty yelled, his voice raised up high enough that dogs fifty blocks away could probably understand it. "IT'S ONLY BEEEEN ONE BLOODY MONTH!"
If that.
"That's why I'm not married anymore." McCoy agreed, sagely. "Worst thing I was ever bad at was the reinforcements." It had been a college thing that lasted about ten months. Not pretty, really.
Varric knew how to translate drunk, "Sometimes women need to hear the words, even if they know in their hearts and can see it."
"Shome menner like dat too," the drunk added.
"That's idiotic. Some arse could be talking oot o' their arse, an' as long as they heer it, then they're all OOO THAATS SEW LOVELY I FEEL BETTER ALREEDY? I dinnae think sae! That's idiotic!" It was simpler with the other girls. They had had gotten bored with his tinkering and left all on their own. "Reinforcements, WOOT?!"
"That's always a danger, Tinker." Varric nodded his head.
As did McCoy. "It's rough." he said, setting his glass down. "And then there's figuring just how to reinforce it. You can't even write fucking books because there's about a hundred fifty ways or more."
"Shomtimes...you jush need to shay...I luv u..."
"I didnae want tae write a book." He slapped both hands over his face and breaaaaaaathed. He was in danger of the voice wavering and cracking and hesitating segment of breaking down and that was just somewhere he never wanted to be. "Drunk laddie, ye need tae shove aff, before I hit ye."
Because no way did he want to do this in front of drunk strangers.
"Hell, though, you're so upset about this, probably you do." McCoy said, nodding. "Nothing wrong with telling them that much if it's true."
"Ish okash! Jush...pretend I'm her!" The man grinned, revealing perfect teeth behind a hobo rape-thicket of a beard.
"I'm nae ready tae, though. Everything was goin' sae bloody good, why was it even...oh ye daft bastard, bless ye." At that, Scotty hugged the hobo and got wibbly, on account of him trying to help. Inner core of mushiness? He has one. He was even pouring hobo joe there, some scotch. Not affiliated with Joe the cook that everyone once thought was a 8 foot tall man, but is really a tiny french lady.
The hobo hugged Scotty back, "I hadsh a wife once...den she..den she didn't love me no more an' ran away wish the babysitter."
"Poor lad." A pause and then Scotty genuinely asked after sniffling, "Was she hot?"
"Da babysitter? Shoo ssfhuckin hot! Barely legal!" He moved his hands like curves of the most epic blonde teenage jailbait, ever.
"Aww...ahh...och, that's horrible." And yet sort of all right, because at least she was hot. Fine, maybe it wasn't all right. And he's sniffling more. In sympathy. For every hobo man with perfect teeth who has ever been left by their wife, for incredibly hot barely-legal babysitters.
McCoy can get behind this conversation. "Turns out mine found out that I was cheating." he confessed. "Not that this makes it right, our mutual boyfriend told her."
"I'm goin' tae sit doon over here again, but...here, let me top this aff for ye." And he topped off the glass before sitting next to McCoy, and looking bleary-teary-eyed and shell shocked.
Scotty did eventually seem to process that though. Blink blink. Then he looked over at McCoy with raised eyebrows. "Woot was that last part, again?"
"Turns out we both met the same guy online." McCoy confessed, shaking his head ruefully. "Eventually he let us both in on that fact."
"An' mah wife, she was..she was...dat classy sort of..curvy lady...total milf, man..."
The drunk turned and stared at McCoy, and pointed.
Scotty just sat between them both, staring straight down at the bar, slowly processing. Very slowly. "Wait. Sae. Ye both...same lad....really. I had nae clue, ye didnae register on me gaydar."
Varric didn't say a word, but he didn't look surprised!
Scotty shrugged though like it wasn't a big deal and poured McCoy some of his scotch.
And Varric better put down a glass because it's going to get poured on the bar and he'll have to lick it off, at the rate Scotty is passing that around.
Varric was keeping up! And he kept glancing at the clock, as if he was expecting....and there walked in Gaila.
"Well," McCoy flashed Scotty a little smile as he sipped the scotch. "What'd the old commercial say? Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't." Then he paused. "One of those things where talking probably would've solved it to begin with."
Gaila was dressed in her waitressing outfit, the corset and short skirt. Both red with matching stockings and heels. She ground to a halt when she saw Scotty.
Scotty almost laughed, but it did get a smile out of him. "More power tae ye, McCoy. At least ye have experience." Luckily his back was turned, so he did not see her, either. In fact, he poured himself another full glass and put the bottle down, because it? Was now empty. "Ye know, tae offer advice, both ways around. Cheers, lads. I dinnae think it'll help but...it's appreciated."
"Thing is," McCoy said, leaning back a little on his stool, though he didn't notice who'd come in either. "It was the kind of thing where if we'd known, we could've worked something out. The whole talking bit and all. Feelings get involved there, sure but they don't have to get all wrapped up in a lot of layers."
Gaila tried to scoot around without being seen.
"Well it's not like I'm dishonest or hidin' much, either. I mean, I'm pretty fucking blunt, right? I've never lied tae her, I can say that for true. I wouldnae dae that. Nae use in it. I'm shite at lying." He could bluff well enough when a situation called for it, but Scotty always did approve more of a blunt approach and diving right in to fix things. He rested an elbow on the bar and his chin in his hand, while staring at McCoy. "Did ye even want tae fix it or was it tae broken by then?"
Right now, Scotty probably wouldn't have noticed anything past the bar, unless it was a fist coming at his face.
"Pretty much a broken thing by then." McCoy admitted. "Not that Joss and I didn't care about each other. Wouldn't have been mutually pissed off about it if we didn't but hell. We were kids wth no idea what we wanted. Turns out we're better facebook friends is all." Little sigh. "So maybe what it'd take is, I don't know, no real good way to get around what you're saying either."
"Sae it's just...it's fucked," said Scotty, quite plainly. "I should just shuttup now, an' accept it, an' dive intae working again, after I sleep...this aff....I think."
"Hell no you shouldn't do that." McCoy said, maybe a little sharply, but he wasn't yelling or anything. "Look, obviously you care for her, and you're getting towards the rest of it. If it was something that you even thought you'd just be able to write off, you wouldn't be so upset still." He pointed out. "Sure, some things are fucked, but what I'm getting's more like it's confused. You can work with confused."
Gaila chewed her lip, half in and half out of the kitchen as she eavesdropped.
"I can? I dinnae really like confused. I mean, more like...complex, I think. I dinnae like complex. Simple's good. Ye think, I'll gae dae that, an' ye gae dae it, an' that's that. Done with." Down went his arm onto the bar, and he applied his forehead down onto it, so he was hunched over. "I mean, shite, AYE, I dae care for the lass, but I didnae think it needed labeled an' organized....maybe...I dinnae know. I cannae help thinking it might be better for her, somehow. She didnae need tae, ye know, take up jogging sae much."
Thunk. Gaila smacked her head on the doorframe. She was an idiot!
That's fine, he was thunking his head off his arm too, like he's pretty freakin' dumb.
"So maybe this'll piss her off, bu that's an explanation that might get the point across." McCoy didn't know if he'd advise it exactly but. "You don't like labels. That there's real specific and straight to the point. Saying it that way, along with all the other bits...it'd be something at least."
Joe was watching Gaila thunk her head, and sighed, "Get out zere and fix zis!" With that, she shoved Gaila towards the bar!
"But I tried tae," at that he raised his head up and his entire face was a horrible wince. "Maybe...talk about it last night an' she dinnae want tae."
Gaila nearly fell over the bar and into Scotty's lap.
"Och, lass, watch it..." Scotty said, not registering yet, anything other than a waitress was clumsy. He caught hold of her and THEN noticed who it was. Hi, there! His face turned into a smile that looked downright painful to behold.
Gaila wrapped her arms around him, "I'm sorry, I'm an idiot."
Blink blink. Eyedart. Oh that wasn't good. So he wrapped both arms around her and gave her a reassuring back pat like it was all okay.
"Nae, I'm sorry tae. I was bein' a fucker." Scotty meant well, but he just couldn't make things sound pretty, sometimes.
"I thought," Gaila began. "You didn't feel the same."
"I...ye...know...we....with the....I didnae mean that I DINNAE feel that way...just..." His voice fell down to a raw whisper. "It's hard tae say just...for right now...aye? Time being?"
She squeezed her eyes shut!
Nope, too late. Kicked puppy expression, he has it, and the puppy has its butt in the mud puddle it landed in it. And it's raining. Hard. Because he is thinking that her closing her eyes like that, is not a good thing at all.
Fine! There was kiss, of the epic apology sort!
Oh! Oh, wait this was good. Nevermind then. He only got a half flail of 'is she going to thwap me again?' in before the kiss actually registered and he could reciprocate.
McCoy would start clapping but that felt rude, so instead he grinned as the reunion was taking place. Funny how that had worked out so well.
"I love you you stupid ass retard!"
"I...really, really like ye...fuck it, I love ye tae, ya daft retardiated arse!"
He was only saying it because he's drunk. He deemed that acceptable. Because being shite-faced wankered was the ultimate excuse to admit things.
Varric raised his class, "Drinks on Scotty!"
The bar? Cheered!
Gaila had wanted to hear that for about a week now, and now she was kissing him with such fervor that they were falling off the stool!
"Wait, whaah? Mmmhphhh...mmhm...." Scotty had looked around all wide eyed and shell-shocked, feeling like his wallet was burning. Oh, his sis was going to kill him when he called for a loan. Or say she was going to, for the fifty billionth time. However, he was also very conveniently kissed while teetering off the bar-stool, and forgot all about going broke.
The two middle-aged lesbians were cheering the loudest!
When the cheer went up, McCoy started clapping, seeing as it felt like the best time now. After all, it was genuine!
And Scotty gave a thumbs up, from behind Gaila's back, so she couldn't see it and smack him for it!
Getting to her feet, Gaila pulled Scotty up after her, then dragged his ass into the back, the cheers of the bar growing louder behind her.
Scotty? Was dragged. He was not in any position to put up any form of protest, seeing as he'd consumed quite a lot of alcohol in the past 24 hours. Though he did give everyone a look like they shouldn't be cheering! Really, was that necessary?
Yes. Yes, it is necessary. The end.