Montgomery Scott is a miracle worker (warp_speed) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-04-01 01:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, faiza hussain (excalibur), montgomery scott |
"Scotty, he wants a treat, what did you do?!"
Who: Scotty, Faiza, (Gaila for a blip)
What: Somebody takes a tumble, gets a wee bit smarter, and a beagle shows up like demon magic whoa (only not, but Gaila's mom thought it was). Also? Clitty Patrick the dog is gone off with Catholic mom. *\o/*
When: Yesterday. Sorry! Belatedly posting stuffs!
Where: Mad Monty's
Rating: PG13, language
Status: Complete
Gaila had gone back to her apartment to pack a bag to leave at Scotty's. She figured they'd graduated to leaving toothbrushes and crap at each other's places. She'd already picked up ..men stuff...for her bathroom. That wasn't the men stuff she always kept just in case. Regardless, she left Scotty alone with her mom and her dog. Dun dun dun.
"Clitty! Yegardownter!" Marian was trying to get the dog down from on top of Scotty's sub. Amusingly, the dog's name was one of the few things she could pronounce.Meanwhile Back at the ranch Mad Monty's, Scotty had been running a leak test to see if the submarine cabin really was going to hold up to being airproof and leak proof. So far, so good, with only one minor and easily fixable leak. Kirk had really held up to his end of things, and found them something very usable and in very good condition. It didn't even contain midgets, cougars, or giants, which earned him massive bonus points.
Of course, the dog on top of the sub wasn't exactly planned, and Scotty was reminding himself how much he did not like pets in the workplace, and why he was not an advocate for Bring Your Pet To Work Day.
"...dae ye have tae call him that?" he asked, plaintively, like maybe she could pick out some new name. Like, maybe she could call it Whore or something, since she liked saying that word so much.
"Tasname!" That's his name! Marian pointed at the dog. It was his name. It stayed.
"Cannae ye call it WHORE? Even that's better than the other name. Besides, it's not his only name, he's Pissy McGee, as well. See? Sae I can yell this at him. PISSY, GEET DOON AFF THERE WOULD YE?!" Ugh, her mother was as stubborn as Gaila was. And maybe even himself. He's giving her the unyielding stare of WTF WOMAN, while taking down some of the tarp and trying to climb up and get the dog down for her, because no way does he want the dog to stay up there. Climbing eventually resulted in crawling, and reaching out one hand to try to catch hold of the dog, when he had no idea how it even managed to get up there. "Bloody dawgie, pain in me arse...."
"Clitty McGee." She nodded her head. She had no idea what Clitty meant but it sounded cute. Clitty stared at Scotty, then scooted back two feet and barked.
"Get th' hell back...oover 'eere...ye...furry...flea-ridden...scruf
Clitty growled at him. Growl! Down on the ground, Marian looked horrified, "T'cantbe!"
"Well, aye, it IS, yer daughter did it as a joke an' because she read it in some story about lesbians or some such. She thought it was cute, but it's not. Sae name the doggie something else, would ye?!"
And did the dog just growl at him? HE GROWLED BACK AT IT.
"Ah'll c'l'im Patrick." And that was that.
Patrick growled again.
"Good, fine name fer the dog. Take him, please. Here, I'll throw him doon tae ye!" He was so fed up, that Scotty LUNGED at the dog, both hands stretched out, with a malicious little smile.
Patrick bounced over Scotty, landing on his head and then darting down his body and leaping down to Marian, "T'sa gud doggie."
So, essentially, Scotty lunged at nothing more than thin air, and - because sub cabins tended to be rounded and not square - there was no ledge for him to hit and no flat part to land on, and down he started to go, over one side. Hands squeegying the entire way as he tried to grasp hold of something. In fact, his hands were probably all that could be seen of him as he tried to twist in mid-slide and grab hold.
The doggie licked her face, waggling his tail, like he'd just found his best friend ever!
Marian ran over, "Scoot!"
It slowed him quite a bit, he almost grinned out of sheer success. But that's when gravity reminded him that he still had body weight to compensate for, and off the side the rest of the way he went, albeit slowly. It would've been a soft landing if not for the fact he'd kicked his feet a little bit at the last second, landed mostly on his bum first, and then bumped the back of his head after his butt met the garage floor, on the leg of a workbench. Clonk. Out like a light.
If his mum was there, she'd make a fine announcement that he was about to get 10 times smarter when he woke up, and because of the long line of thick skulled ancestors, he'd be just fine again, after he woke up. Of course, his mum wasn't there, so he's just going to look like he's dead or something, and probably not very smart at all.
Marian poked him, "Shite. G'la gointk'lme"
Nope, he's still out. It was like poking a dead thing. But look! He's breathing. So that means he's just...part way dead? Halfway there? WHO KNOWS THE MYSTERIES OF THE UNIVERSE? DOUBLE RAINBOWS AND WHAT DO THEY MEAN? WE DO NOT KNOWS.
Marian leaned waaay over, and listened for his breathing, good, she didn't have to perform CPR. She checked his head, wondering what she should do.
Hello! Goose egg. Someone has little bump formed already!
"Shite." She got up, and looked at the dog, "Patrick w'rethephone?"
Clitty bounced out of her arms, and chewed at Scotty's butt. He pulled out the phone.
Marian picked it up, intending to call 911!
Which somehow miraculously was not broken again when he sat on it. He'd scream at her not to call 911, and instead maybe try calling one of the two people marked as 'doctor' on there, one being Faiza (doctor-robolady) and the other being McCoy (doctor-deadpeople). It was part of his phone address system. Best not to ask. Varric was under 'smut peddler.'
She called Dr. Robolady, "Mergcy!"
Faiza stared at her phone, "Hello? Who is this? What's a mergcy?"
"E. Mer. Jancy! Scootyit isead!"
"Scotty?" Faiza got up from her couch, muting the cricket game on the tv and spilling the test results from the judges of the robo-tourny, "What happened? Slowly now."
"He fell oofis soobmrine."
..what? Faiza stared at her phone again.
Even if he was still laying there, or half-sitting and half-laying, more or less, Scotty managed to look disgruntled even with his eyes closed. He also let out a very faint little 'nnmphle' noise that sounded rather grumpy, probably in recognition of the splitting headache he's going to have when he wakes up.
Otherwise, it was like an extra wheel in his brain just got pounded back into place with all the other cogs and wheels and things that go ZING, and it was starting to turn in time with everything else again.
"E..he'sblinghurt!!!!" Marian tried again, "He's hurt! Yedocornae?"
And there goes Scotty's nose, wrinkling up, like he was smelling something like...burnt tofu. Repellent.
Faiza rushed out the door, "Don't move him! I'll be right there!" Taking the words at face value, Marian tied Scotty down.
It's not like he could protest, so he's just going to lay there and peacefully wait for Faiza to show up. Though he did start to sneer a little, and his eyes crinkled up into a stage 1 wince.
"Ohesfune." Marian opened the door to let Faiza in.
The doctor rushed over, kneeling to inspect Scotty. She opened his eyes and checked for dilation. She scarcely noticed the submarine, just looking long enough to judge the distance of the fall, "He won't like this but I need to bring him down for at least some x-rays. It doesn't look like he broke anything."
Oh no, he will not likes. Enough that he's already starting in with the low grumble growl of protest, barely audible but quickly rising in volume. Expect a cranky Scotsman to be very much awake, very soon.
Faiza would have none of this! She whipped out her phone, fully intending to call someone to help her cart him to hospital.
The first thing Scotty realized, was that it was very hard to roll over, or grab hold of his aching head. Which was very, very frustrating. The second thing was that there was some of those odd strings of numbers that seemed to be fitting together better than it had done in previous mornings, since he's usually muttering about numbers and parts in his sleep.
And that, friends, is what happens when you spend all your free time not at work or the pub, holed at home with technical journals.
"Nngh, wha th'fuck," he grumbled and the wince went into something that could only be described as magnificent, as far as levels went. One eye managed to open, and things looked a smidge blurry at first. But, being accustomed to this due to the monumental times he's bumped that incredibly thick skull of his onto things, he was well-versed in what to do.
"Get ice?" He thought on that for a second, not even noticing fully yet, that he was still tied up. "Nae. Paper. Pencil. Quick."
"Scotty, you fell and hit your head, we have to get you to a hospital! You've got a concussion!"
"Pfft." He shook his head a little like that was silly, and then squinted down at...oh, now his look just went supremely sour. "What's this then? WHO TIED ME UP?"
Faiza pointed at the older woman.
OUCH. Headache. He softened his voice. "Get me out of this, would ye?"
Squinting, Faiza loosened the rope, "Sit up gently, will you?"
"Trust me, I'm not goin' tae be moving quickly for a few hours, lass." He would've nodded in agreement, but that was probably a bad idea. He scooted into a proper sitting position, very slowly, and then untied himself the rest of the way, giving Gaila's mom, both of her, a bit of a glaring at. It didn't last long though, as eventually she came into full focus and one shoulder twitched upward in a tiny shrug, like it was fine. At least she'd called and not left him to die! "I think this' the thousandth time I've bumped me head on things or fallen doon on it, or had it punched, hit with a stick, brick thrown at it...golf club...car door..."
Indeed, in some weird twist of fate, instead of getting dumber, as one should, or turning into a vegetable? Scotty's brain made order out of chaos. It was like the Borg of brain injuries, and simply enfolded stuff into itself, and made the collective stronger.
Marian produced paper, and pen, "Yuwan?"
"Aye, cheers Marian." He took it and sucked in a sharp breath, squinted, and started scrawling out what looked to be like a drafted diagram of some sort of part, followed by a string of numbers that kind of put his propulsion equation he'd been muttering about in his sleep, into better perspective. Along with a few other number strings that looked to be so profoundly complex, that wheelchair guy probably would've had a brain-gasm.
Once he slowed down and finally stopped, he set the paper aside and dropped the pencil on it. "Done. Is it that bad that I really need tae gae tae hospital for an xray, Faiza? Really. Because ye know, me family would just stare at ye funny, an' duct tape an ice pack tae me head."
"That's because your family are barbarians," She retorted.
Marian pushed her out of the way and inspected Scotty's head. She then spit on her hand and rubbed the bump like 'there, all better.'
"We arenae barbarians, it's simply what...works." Fine. That was disgusting, but it might work. He simply tried to ignore the disconcerting feel of spit drying in his hair.
Faiza made a face, "Uuuuugh."
"Wattha?" Marian pointed at the paper.
Okay, ignoring that, though he...kind of...warily...nodded his thanks to Marian. "Look, I can explain how I fell. I went doon feet first but lost me footing, cuz I was tryin' tae grab hold up there...but as ye can see? It's round. Sae I slid an' couldn't get a hand hold in on it. Anyway, feet went oot from under me, even if I kind of landed on them first...went down on me arse, then I think I bumped me head against...aye, this. I've got a fair amount of work tae dae though, sae if I could get back tae it..."
He paused and looked over at the paper.
"Oh, um...I think it's part of some equation for space travel, thrust, lift, fuel volume...distance covered...an' that...well...I dinnae know, but I think those are parts of a engine, maybe, of some sort."
"..will it work?" Faiza looked at him in amazement. She couldn't make heads nor tails of it, but it looked nice?
"I think sae? I dinnae know." He kind of stared at it, blank-faced, and unsure. Then he picked up the paper and took a closer look at it, while murmuring under his breath just barely loud enough to be heard, "Can I get some ice, if ye'd be sae kind? One of ye?"
Or course, he kept forgetting about the ice every time he looked at the paper. It was like he'd seen this before, many times. In various variations. Enough that he picked up the pencil and began to clean the lines up until it dawned on him what it was.
"Aye," he said, tapping the tip of the pencil down at it and the numbers above it. "Some sort of energy reactor, must be? Maybe. Problem is, I've got the energy oot-put right here, inserted in, but....well, nae. That's rather odd. Nothing could put oot that much energy, that I know of." And that is where Scotty scowled, because it shouldn't really be possible and a fuel source was like one of the most important variables as far as speed and distance were concerned. Couldn't get anywhere without fuel, after all.
"What kind of fuel source would you need?" Faiza sat down next to him.
That was where a blank space was, and he was eyeing the other part he'd drawn, but that didn't have any obvious fuel tanks or fuel lines attached to it in the outline, either. Just output. He shrugged, mutely, unable to answer or come up with an explanation.
There came, suddenly a sound like wind chimes, complete with a soft, warm glow. Next to them was a glowing object that gradually formed into swirling light and then..sitting proudly was Admiral Archer's prize beagle. The dog looked around, and sniffed.
"Och, fucking fabulous, really. Now I'm seeing shite."
Faiza stared, her mouth hanging open, "What..dog..what?"
Scotty rubbed one hand over his face and then stared at Faiza like YOU CAN SEE IT TOO?!
"All right all right all right, fine, this isnae right." Scotty held up both hands, dropping the paper and the pencil entirely and was sitting stick straight upright. He did not yet remember an Admiral or any Admiral's dog. "Why did a dog just magically appear here? Am I dead? Someone pinch me."
Scotty's experiment had obviously been a success, Porthos mused, looking around. He had not only been transported across space, but time as well!
"You're...seeing it too, duck?"
Because he has NO CLUE yet, why the dog is there. NO CLUE. That wheel has not yet been knocked back into place, in his brain. Even if it was going to split his skull in two, Scotty's voice raised way, way up.
"AYE, I'm seein' the dog tae! If ye see it then I certainly am! What the fuckery shite bugger arse is goin' on here?"
The dog's collar was fancy, and had a golden name tag. Porthos VII. He trotted over to Scotty and sat next to him, looking expectant. Porthos wanted his payment.
"Scotty, he wants a treat, what did you do?!"
Scotty stared at the dog, like he couldn't figure out what the bloody hell....
"Treat? What treat? And what'd ye mean WHAT'D I DAE?!" He grabbed onto his head with both hands, to make the ouch stop. Think, man, think! First of all, strange glowy light thing. Fine. Magic? Maybe.
Faiza pointed at the beagle, "He knows you!"
Marian, meanwhile was still crossing herself.
"...thinking," he hissed as a warning to quiet for a moment while he put two and two together and got two billion. Fine, that was a really big number that didn't fit. Possibilities? That weren't magic based? Temporal displacement? Wormhole? A space-time hiccup? It seemed pretty focused for any of those things, like pinpoint precision. And that dog was staring at him, in a very unnerving way, like it not only knew him, but was used to being popped around in spinny spindly cocoons of light. So, possibility was, maybe an alternate him in an alternate reality had sent this dog somehow to where he was, now, and the dog was simply recognizing him based on looks and expecting its reward, because he pretty much assumed any alternate him was probably blowing things up and fouling up things, somehow, in alternate otherworld.
And yes, he said that outloud.
Porthos' tail twhapped on the ground, like he was tapping his foot, waiting. The dog tilted his head. He barked, as if to say 'that was plausible.'
"And if I were me....I'd give ye...a splash of whisky an' rip off a bite of a sandwich?" If any of those were the magic words, he expected the dog to have some sort of reaction.
Porthos hopped to his feet, tail wagging!
"Ah! All right, other me then, if this' how this happened, best guess scenario, must have lots in common with me. Any rate, we're not goin' tae talk about this craziness. SWEAR ON IT," he growled at both the women and stared at each of them, pointedly, like his eyes were laser beams of doom, and he'd figure this out in his own good damn time. "Not a word. And I'll tell Gaila on me own, thank ye very much."
Faiza shook her head, "No one would believe me.."
Marian was chalking it up to the devil's work.
"Damn right they'd not. An' I suppose I need tae take care of this one, until I can find a way tae get him home." No such thing! It was science! He put a fingertip under the dog tag and read it, with a scowl. "Fine then, Porthos? The seventh, even. Arenae ye fancy. Let's get ye a treat."
He started to try to stand up, after folding up the drawing and tucking into a pocket, for safe keeping. And so he could work out how things should fit together, if they did, later on.
Porthos followed Scotty, trotting along like this? Was normal.
Which was very unnerving. He eyed the dog, one hand pressed against the bump on the back of his head, all the way up the stairs. And then it was sammich construction time, which was very serious business. And especially so, one-handed, because he was applying ice wrapped in a towel to the goose egg.
Marian didn't want to stay. Not with a devil dog and one of THOSE people. She picked up her Clitty, er, Patrick, and fled!
For her part, Faiza was used to such people. She ignored the look Gaila's mother gave her, though not without a sigh, and headed up the stairs.
"Here." She held the ice for him.
"Oh? Oh, cheers," he said to her, grateful because that cut down on construction time. "Marian run aff, because she thought we're demonic? Catholic mum. Pretty typical."
He was moving pretty slowly, so when he bent over to do anything, it wasn't like Faiza didn't have some fair warning. Half of the sandwich went to the supposed alternate dimension traveling dog, as well as a small saucer with a tiny splash of whisky on it. And then Scotty stared down at it, while chewing on his half of sammich win, like the wheels of his brain were still very much in motion. If they whirred any faster and he stared at that dog any harder than he was right then, he might transport it back to where it came from, with his mind, alone.
Faiza wasn't sure that was the best thing to feed a dog, but the beagle scarfed it down like a vaccuum cleaner, before trotting around, sniffing and exploring. There was other-dog smell here. A kindred spirit, almost, with a knack for finding parts. An ancestor if he had been the right species. Ancestor in spirit, then, Porthos decided.
"That's the weirdest bloody thing I've ever had happen, in me entire bloody life," so said Scotty, watching the dog very intently, like he really was trying to unravel how this happened, and it was going to bother him until he could figure out the how and why and when and where of it all.
"Everything since I met you has been the weirdest sodding thing," Faiza replied, gently. "Its like that show on the telly."
"Which show's that?" he idly asked, still dog watching.
"Boldly going nowhere or something silly like that."
"Och, shite, that's silly." He almost laughed. "Dont' be silly, lass. That's just a telly show. It innae real."
"I know, but it sounded just like the teleporter!" Faiza laughed. It WAS silly.
Porthos just looked between them like they were both retardiated.
"Nae it dinnae. That dunnae sound like their transporter." Maybe it did. Whatever. "I could build one, an' I bet ye anything, somewhere, another me probably did. I bet it was easy, by the way." The dog is right to look at him in particular, that way.
He picked up the saucer, still moving at a slug's pace, and plopped it in the sink, before trying to find a bowl in the cabinets, to put water in.
Porthos sniffed Scotty. He was doubting the crossing of dimensions, Scotty smelled too much like Scotty.
He did move his head enough to look down at Porthos, and gave him a little smile.
"Well, he seems like a good sort. Nice lad. Bit more mellow than Pissy was, that's for certain. Ah, here, bowl." He ran some cold water into it and put it down, giving the dog a pat on top of it's head, for as long as he dared, without losing his balance. He definitely felt obligated to keep it around, at least until he figured out what to do, or if...maybe, other him? Showed up to fetch it. That's the story and he's sticking with it.
Porthos looked down at the bowl. Then sniffed at it and whined.
"Maybe he wants sparkly water?"
It's water. Gae on, then. Drink it." Scotty urged, not about to give the dog sparkling water, because that's idiotic. "Maybe he wants some water oot of the lavey."
Porthos looked up at him like he was loco.
“Well, maybe he's not thirsty." There? See, that was reasonable. He got another bowl down, just for this dog, and gave it some of Pissy's dried dog food. Although, whatever, he was named Patrick. Though he'd probably not see the dog or Gaila's mom that much, unless she came over for dinner and doused them in holy water.
Porthos looked at the dog food, then sniffed it, then made the beagle equivalent of the 'ewwwwww' face and flipped the bowl over, then stalked over to the fridge and sat in front of it. Waiting.
Faiza looked at Scotty, and shrugged.
"What the hell." He gave the dog a look like he didn't GET IT, and winced a little, taking the towel from Faiza and dropping it into the sink. Sure, there was a bump on his head, but he was able to ignore some of the pain because he really was trying to figure out what the hell was up with the beagle. He opened the fridge door, and stood close by, one hand on the top of the door, letting the dog take a look-see. He did warn it, though. "Nae canned doggie food in here. Only dry stuff."
Porthos nosed into the fridge, locating deli meat, knocking over some mayo, dragging the deli meat through the mayo and then trotting to a corner to eat the mayo slathered deli meat. Faiza's face was contorted in abject disbelief.
"I guess he's got that sorted," Scotty said, unenthused, because that was now the dog's mayo and luncheon meat. No way was he touching it. In fact? After he cleaned that mess up, he even MARKED on the jar and packet: Property of Porthos. Keep out.
He turned to Faiza and then went a little shifty-eyed, like he had nothing to do with this. As far as he knew, at least.
Faiza was still watching him. Wondering what the hell he'd really done to make a dog magically appear. A smart one, no less.
Porthos finished his meal and settled down, curling up.
He noticed she was watching him and gave her a dirty look, ignoring the dog for a moment. His jaw seemed locked firmly in place, brows knit together, and eyes burning with the sort of blazing glare that made it known he wasn't to be questioned about it.
"Not. A word. Tae ANYONE. Else. Or I swear if yer robo needs repairs or upgrades, ye can find someone else tae dae them. Understood?" He pointed at her. "And I'll try not tae gae tae sleep for tae long, because I might not wake up again, blah blah bloody blaaaaaaaaaah. I know what tae dae."
He'd just set the alarm over and over again, for twenty minutes. Like he'd done millions of times before. Or his mum would send his sis, when he was younger, to kick him in the legs until he woke up.
Faiza held up her hands in appeasement, "I told you, duck. No one would believe me."
"Nae slipping up!"
"I won't!"
He wasn't even sure how he'd tell Gaila, though he'd kind of have to explain it, because her mother was there and would probably leave her a message about satan and hellfire and demon dogs. At some point or other.
"Good. Well. Ye have tae gae then? Or dae ye want some coffee?" Because if she wanted to stay and watch him and be fussy, he didn't mind so much. As long as she wasn't poking and prodding him with needles and thermometers.
She hadn't a reason to, yet, "I'd like tea if you have it? I'll stay an hour or so. But if you worsen I will drag your sorry arse to the hospital. Is that understood?"
"Yer probably goin' tae drag me there anyway, aren't ye." He said it like he knew that was probably going to happen. Even so, he started making the tea for her. It didn't make him look any less grumpy, though he did pause while waiting for the kettle to boil, to put the paper he'd scribbled all over, onto the fridge with a magnet. "Will I get some painkillers oot of it, sae I can sleep tonight?"
Because it was the sort of ache that just was not going to go away, while laying down. Not dangerous achy, but the persistent annoying sort.
She nodded her head, "If it all looks good, yes."
"Fine," he said, and it was like a sigh formed into a spoken word. A very exasperated sigh. "But after the tea, sae ye let me come tae terms with going in, at all."
"Deal."
Porthos lifted his head, yawned, and then lowered it again.
Cup of tea? Made. He handed it over to her, with the proper amount of sugar thrown in.
Cup of tea? Drank! She smiled at him, then eyed the dog distrustfully.
Maybe not a devil dog but certainly an unusual one.
"I dinnae think he's leaving. He looks settled in. Probably wiped oot, if ye think about it. I mean, just thinkin' what it'd take tae get bounced through tae somewhere like here, but if it was another me, that did it, then he's A BLOODY BRILLIANT BASTARD. I'd love tae meet him." Oh he has noooo clue yet. Nope. "Anyway, we'll gae, come back, an' I'll let him oot for a walk. Not a problem."
He texted a message to Gaila to let her know he was stepping out and there was a surprise in the apartment that he'd talk to her about later. As well as letting her know to be careful with letting the surprise out unsupervised, and that her mother had taken Patrick, formerly Clitty, Formerly Pissy McGee. He'd tell her about the bump when he got back.
See? It wasn't lying. It was simply omitting a fact, for the time being.
Meanwhile, Gaila stared at her messages about demon dogs and surprises. You know what? She'll just sleep at her place tonight and come back in the morning. Maybe things will be NORMAL then.
Faiza nodded her head, "Lets go, I'll try to expedite it."
That was not what he'd intended! She'd probably get a message later on, after he found out he was actually bored without her around, bouncing around nakedly to techno while he was trying to read his tech books. He reluctantly left, locking up the loft and the garage.
And it was off to get his head examined!
Tomorrow would be one hell of a surprise...