Montgomery Scott is a miracle worker (warp_speed) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-03-29 21:53:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, gaila, montgomery scott, varric tethras |
"Sthis whayou like aye?"
Who: Scotty, Gaila, Varric, Gaila's mom. Eesh!
What: After the text messages! Gaila's mom shows up for a surprise Irish Mom visit. FUN TIMES HAD BY ALL. Stubbornated peeps!
Where: Mad Monty's
When: Todays!
Rating: PG-13, language.
Status: Complete.
Gaila popped upstairs, dropping on the table the smallest damn condoms you ever did see, along with assorted other groceries. She got right to work cooking!
"My junior wee bairns!" Scotty said, picking up the box and opening it. "Well done! I'm goin' tae put them on my fingers an' run around tryin' tae touch ye. Are they lubed?" He read the package and audibly went 'AWW' outloud. "They are. Ye dae care."
"Well you need them for Kirk and McCoy don't you?"
"I was only joking. I think I'd rather poke ye with them." He gave her a very dry stare, and then opened a package and put one on his index finger, waggling it at her all creepy-like, afterward. "I think I'd cry if these actually were a loose fit. Now let me TOUCH YE, lass!"
Creepy condom finger went wriggling toward her!
"I thought they would be a loose fit," She replied, ignoring the creepy condom finger!
Wriggle wriggle goes condom finger against the side of her neck. It is creepy. And lubed. So that's making it even squigglier. It probably doesn't help that he's using a creepy crawly whisper voice either, "Yeee knooow, I'd probably bust theeeze, laaaaasssssiiiiieeeee..."
Gaila continued to work on dinner. Her voice was pleasant, conversational even, "Oh, no. I know exactly your size, I measured. Those will fit just fine."
"What?" Poke poke went creepy condom finger, like the world's worst puppet, right on her shoulder. "Excuse me?! Ye didnae measure it, certainly, because these would NOT fit."
A pause. A longer pause. Scoff. Then he grabbed one out of the box and went stomping off to the bathroom, slammed the door, and an audible "OUCH!" could be heard a little bit after that. Followed by, "THESE DINNAE FIT!"
Gaila had seen worst puppets. She went to a catholic school after all. Nothing was worse than dinosaur jesus. She looked at her ingredients, "Shit." She popped in and kissed Scotty, "Don't touch anything, I'll be right back!"
"What dae ye mean, dinnae touch anything! This' tae tight...OUCH!" Snap went the latex and he breathed a sigh of relief. It was only a handful of seconds later that he was glare peeking around the corner of the doorway. "What'd ye forget?!"
"Noodles!" And Gaila slid down the bannister and out the door!
"Well what'm I supposed tae dae?! Are things cooking?!" Panic. Man panic.
She shouted up at the window, "Nothing. DON'T TOUCH A THING!" And then she was gone!
Scotty blinked. Blinked some more. Then he set everything right with himself again, washed the condom lube off his hands in the bathroom sink, and exited. He really hoped she hadn't, like, turned heat on, or anything.
There came a knock knock knocking at the door.
Was it heaven's door?
That was odd. Usually people just wandered right in or up the stairs. And if it was Gaila, she certainly wouldn't have knocked. She had KEYS. Maybe Sulu or someone with, you know, etiquette, decided to stop by. He walked toward the door and opened it, just enough to peek through with his face showing.
There was an old woman standing there. Her hair had faded from a rich red to a coppery blonde, but she had once been a looker. She still was.
She looked nice enough. For an older woman, at least. He smiled, apologetically.
"I'm sorry. Shop's closed, lass. Full up with a project right now, but that's only temporary. I mean, if it's an emergency, I could get aff me arse an' help, definitely. But...did I not turn the sign?"
He glanced over to check. It looked like it was flipped to the 'closed' side, from where he was standing.
She peered at him, "This'r Scooty? Y'knar G'la?"
Oh. Holy. Crap. Scotty's eyes moved to stare at her, but the rest of his head didn't follow, it was still turned in the direction of the sign. But! No use lying about it. He was a terrible liar anyway. And being blunt and honest seemed to work better, even if it got him into trouble for shooting his mouth off, now and then.
"Aye, I'm Scotty." He opened the door more, so it wouldn't seem like he was setting up a barricade or the likes. "And I know Gaila, but she isnae here. She's popped oot. Only guessing, but ye must be her mum?"
"Ahm M'ryann." She held out her hand, "Yuir wmegrl?" You're with me girl?
Not being rude, he took her hand and shook it. Not roughly or anything, even though he had hung up on her once before after telling her not to call her daughter certain things, and suggesting maybe that was the reason her daughter didn't want to talk to her anymore. Whooooooops.
"Nice tae meet ye, an' aye, I'm with yer daughter." He paused and then smiled a little bit, before adding, "Exclusively."
The woman rolled her eyes, "Ahm nan b'livin. Sh'll streye mkmewd." "I don't believe. She'll stray mark my words."
Don't. Lose. Temper. At. Her. Mother.
That? Would be bad.
Nevermind, temper lost.
"That's a shite thing tae say," was Scotty's incredibly over-defensive response. He glared, hard, at the woman, like she had a thick skull full of bricks, and the wits to match. "I'd let ye in, but I'm ready tae just tell ye tae gae get bent, instead. Oh. Oops. I just did that. An' I dinnae like talkin' that way tae lassies, but I think this time, I might make an exception. Cheers!"
And he began to close the door.
That? Would indeed be bad. But Marian wasn't deterred. Her arm snapped out and her palm connected with Scotty's face in a perfect, 5-star pimpslap, "Dinye avenae m'nners?! M'tr'n telp!" "Don't you have manners?! I'm trying to help!"
Oh no, she did not. The door flew WIDE open, all the way, and he leaned out it, face scrunched up in disbelief and anger. He'd never ever so much as lay an angry fingertip on a woman, but this one really was touching a few nerves, enough for some verbal laying into.
"There's only one bloody person, on this planet, that I'd let get away with that, an' that's me mum. Sae dunnae EVER let yer hand connect with me face again, if ye know what's best for ye. Because? Ye arenae helping. Shite like this only makes things WORSE." He pointed directly at her nose, like it was a warning. No touching, just getting the point straight, ma'am. "Now. GET AFF, step back, an' let me slam this fuckin' door in yer face. And stop ragging on an' on about yer daughter, ye crabbit auld droopy ARSE!"
He leaned back in and was ready to slam the door closed, even grabbed onto it with both hands. Good DAY, madam!
"Wellesgaon tell." She muttered, folding her arms. Her daughter might be a slut, but she deserved better than that lout! She looked around, thinking. ”Well he's going to hell”
Slam! That was the door, and Scotty took a few deep breaths to get his bearings. No freakin' wonder she didn't want to answer her mother's calls. Not to mention that big angry red handprint embedded into the side of his face.
He dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed Gaila, hoping that she had brought her phone with her.
"Cassie's BJs and Steaks, how can I help you?"
"I'd like tae place an order, please," he said, taking in another deep breath and then letting it out quickly, while talking. "For a side of YER FUCKING MOTHER IS OUTSIDE HERE, RIGHT NOW."
Gaila nearly dropped her phone, "WHAT?! No..no.. send her away. I moved, I'm not there. Fuck I'm going home right now."
"She might know where ye are. Gae over tae the pub, but....is there a back entrance? Use that. Employees only. An' for pity's sake, tell Varric what's goin' on!" He rubbed one hand over the side of his face, still feeling the burn. "Shite, she's got a mean swing on her!"
"Don't I know it," She replied, and hung up. No, she couldn't stay. She had to leave town.
"She's goin' tae bolt. Again." Hell with that. Scotty phoned up Varric, and he'd just have to take on the responsibility of dealing with Gaila's hell on two legs mother. He bounced in place, waiting for Varric to answer, probably because he'd have to find a pause point in his smuttastical storytelling.
"She bolt again?" Varric said, as soon as he answered.
"Aye, her bloody mother is outside me door, and she has a slap like she's from something out of the stone age, capable of single-handedly takin' doon huge dinosaurs," Scotty said with the utmost urgency. "I told her tae gae tae the pub an' use a backdoor, but likelihood is she's goin' tae run again. Can ye give the lass a call an' then maybe I can try tae talk some sense intae the crabbit auld witch? I owe ye! But I know yer probably concerned about her, as well."
"Shit, she's never had good to say about her mother. Try to be civil? There's always two sides to a story." He paused, "But if she's that bad she's that bad. I'll call Cass."
"Aye, I'll try. Cheers! Goin' tae gae try tae make nice with the devil!" And Scotty hung up, his mind racing over possible scenarios, and how to try to at least hear the woman out, and convince her to NOT be saying anything unsavory about her daughter. The problem was that he pretty much could only think of things that involved having to get his point across too, and she didn't seem willing to compromise. Not if she was already getting slappy-handed. Even so? He dropped his phone into a back pocket, marched over to the door and decided to throw it open, step out, and face the music. No matter how terrible it sounded.
"Sthis whayou like aye?" She thrust a bag of pot into his hands, like it was a demented peace offering, "H'ppy." ”This is what you like? Hippy.”
"Woot the hell's this, then!? NAE I dinnae like this!" He threw it back at her, totally aghast. "I drink, but I dinnae use that stuff! What's WRONG with ye?!"
"Thoyewre like toth'rs." She forced her way past him, looking around the shop with a critical eye. A disapproving eye.
"Well I'm NOT." He slammed the door closed and put his hands on his hips, and she could be as disapproving as she liked, but he ran a tight ship and he kept everything clean and organized. No safety hazards. Everything in it's place. Right tools for the right job. "And if ye wanted manners, ye couldae asked tae be let in, instead of simply barging in after ye...where'd ye get that stuff from, anyway?!"
Of course, there was a giant submarine cabin inside the garage, but that was the only thing out of sorts, in there. Really.
She was noticing that. It was a safe death trap, at least as safe as deathtraps could get. Maybe he wasn't so bad. Better than the last lout.
"Aye. Crosstreet."
"Tall blond, short thick lad, in a black trenchcoat?" He just wanted to make sure. Because he had to make sure they gave her mom the money back she spent on it. Even if he also kind of wanted to suggest she SMOKE IT and CHILL THE HELL OUT like some of his university friends used to do.
Who was saying she hadn't?
In fact, she already looked a little mellow.
Were her eyes bloodshot? Scotty moved in, leaned forward, and gave her a looking at. Then he pressed his lips together into a firm line, and folded both arms over his chest.
"Uh huh. Really. This is quickly goin' tae turn intae the pot callin' the kettle black, I think." Well, time to sink her battleship. He was really good at that game, too. "She's not here, an' by now, she's probably on her way tae skippin' oot of southern California, entirely."
A thought he didn't like, but he entirely expected.
"Shalways do." She poked at the submarine suspiciously, "Natstime." Marian reached into a bag and pulled out what looked like legal papers, "Shuldtay." "She always does. Not this time, should have stayed."
"Well, aye, she does seem tae really like running aff all of the time. What's that tae mean?" He eyed the papers with a healthy dose of suspicion. It was taking everything in his stubborn Scottish power, not to go running off to find her and convince her not to leave, like he'd done....at least three times before now. "Ye hardly needed tae get yer lawyers on me. We didnae dae anything wrong. An' it's not my fault the two of ye cannae mend things, I mean, if ye want me tae be HONEST, part of it is yer blethering trash talk, on an' on, aimed at her. Ye need tae lay aff!"
And he wasn't mean during that last part, but more like his voice raised just enough to get across how bloody stupid he thought it was.
"Damnvorce papers, ye Thistlearse!"
Oh no. She did not just go there. "THISTLEARSE?!"
"AYE!"
Oh, wait! Did she say divorce papers? That was actually good. He raised his eyebrows and had to fight off the urge to hold out one hand, to get a better look at them. All of which was probably ruined, the minute he opened his mouth, "Well it's about bloody time, ye bog trotter."
No wonder she'd been calling so often! Now it made sense to him.
She rolled up the papers and hit him like a bad, bad dog, "Aredy signed, pipe blower."
"Stop smacking me. Yer as bad as yer daughter is, ye mackerel snapper," he gruffed, leaning away from her. He did ask, with less of a hard edge to his voice and more a genuine curiosity, "Why didnae ye simply tell her that?"
"Ner ge'wd in." Marian sighed, sitting down on a bench and suddenly looking her age, "N'er enough fayer t'jus listen." ”Never get a word in. Never enough for her to just listen.”
"Well ye went around calling her a whore sae casually, what'd ye expect?" Okay, so now he felt bad for the woman. Or, rather, for both of them. Another case of crossed wires, on a conversational level. "Look, ye have tae stop doin' that, or she's never goin' tae want anythin' tae dae with ye. It isnae right, even if ye dinnae like the decisions she's made. Dae ye want something tae drink?"
"Juswanar t'treatar bowdy wispect!" That's all! She just wanted her to treat her body with respect! "Nontis dancin'horin'."
"That. There. Stoppit." He pointed at her and raised his eyebrows. "Dinnae say that. She's a beautiful girl, she's really bloody smart tae, an' really good with computers. If ye went an' encouraged that, ye know, maybe she wouldnae have....gone an' done the things she's done. I'm only sayin', I dinnae know the full scope of things, sorry." He held up both hands like no one should shoot the messenger, here! Or slap them, whatever. He knew if he could get upstairs to get her something - anything - to drink, then maybe he could call Gaila to let her know what was up. "If ye want tae fix things, after this long, it's probably goin' tae take a lot of effort. Sae. Did ye want something tae drink, or not?"
"Ladies shount use computers." She folded her arms, stubbornly, "S'betteran'orin." She relented and nodded her head, "awrite."
"Stop..just..STOP. Dinnae use the word WHORE, ever again. Ye went an expended yer entire lifetime allotment. Just...? Lets start there, aye?" Scotty grinned at her, hopefully, while nodding that, yes, computers were good. "She's really good with them, it's dead handy an' she's been a great help. Here, stay put, let me gae upstairs and I'll make ye a wee cuppa tea, an' be right back doon. Dinnae move!"
"Bulike t'wrd whore." And this time she enunciated. In fact it was one of her favorite words. Whore! WHORE WHORE WHORE WHORE! "WHORE."
"Dae ye want tae be on better terms with yer daughter?" he asked, even though it was done snappishly. "Hmm?" Nope, she doesn't get a chance to answer, because there goes his voice, like he's telling someone to stop climbing on things. "DINNAE USE IT AGAIN AROUND HER, AT THE VERY LEAST!"
Now Scotty turned and marched up the stairs to the loft, to make Gaila's mom some tea.
"Aye!" She watched him go, with one last "WHORE" uttered in his direction.