littlegreengirl (littlegreengirl) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-03-04 13:50:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, gaila, montgomery scott, varric tethras |
“Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilliant.”
Who: Scotty and Cass (Gaila), and Varric!
What: Cass shows Scotty the garage. There's a Varric. Also more argueing.
When: Right after punching out the drunk at the bar
Where: Scotty's Garage
Rating: PG-13
Status: Part 2 of 2 (complete)
Cass rolled her eyes, and went to get the keys, “Joe. I’m going out for a bit, watch the front.”
“I never get tae see Joe.” Once again, he was reminded of the mysterious Joe. He looked around for him. If Joe was a midget, Scotty swore he was going to facepalm. “Joe needs tae come out here more often.”
“Lets go!” She dragged him, not answering about Joe. Joe was a person who liked privacy.
“But...dunnae tug on me arm like that...wait, I need me bags!” Scotty ran to get them, and now he was dragging her.
She flailed, and smacked him in the arm.
Ah ha, the bags! He picked up the very large duffle bag full of clothes and plopped it into her arms, then he took the tool bag and hefted it up so he can lug it over to the garage. Oooph, that thing was heavy. “Right. Ready. Lead on, lass!”
She felt a little ridiculous as she led on. She was still in the corset, skirt and heels that was her waitressing uniform and carrying a man’s bags. She almost dumped them on the ground, but was too tired to bother with a fit.
Yes, Scotty had checked her out for another 2.5 seconds but stopped himself as usual. Instead, he was staring at the back of her head. Wait, she had that really nice hair that was a really lovely shade of red...and that wasn’t helping matters, either. He rolled his eyes and merely followed, not checking out anything, nope! He was even prepared to step right over the clocked drunk like he's part of the landscape, so much had he noticed his surroundings, instead.
As she headed outside, she tripped a bit over the drunk.
Scotty eyes bugged out. Wow, she was a klutz. “Watch it!” He mumble grumble asked if she was all right, under his breath.
“I'm fine!” Frustrated, she slammed her heel into the man’s crotch. Again.
Well. Okay then. He stared at the ballstomp, smiled, and continued to follow He supposed he might not get ballstomped if he tried to make conversation. He hoped.
“Sae did he say if he'd rented this shop for a certain amount of time?”
“The papers should be in the loft above it. I think there's an apartment up there. Or a studio. I didn't really ask.” She didn’t really think she needed to know. As they walked, they passed a pair of drug dealers. Lets call them Jay and Bob. With tattoos.
Scotty nearly dropped the bag of tools on his own feet. “Papers? Rental papers, nae doubt. Ahh.” A quick nod and he caught up to her a bit more so he didn't have to look at her backside the entire way. Or having to avoid looking at it, rather. And then there was the matter of those two drug dealers, which he eyed warily.
“Lass, ye're gonnae have tae walk back pass them, again,” he said once they were out of earshot. Meaning: the offer is there to escort her back to the bar if she wanted to take it. After all, as much as he likes his fists in someone’s face knocking their teeth out, he also has tools in bag, and can easily clobber them.
If uber wrench could talk, it would be saying, “Dunnit make me hurtz youse, foos!”
“I'll be fine, don't worry about it.” She already felt a little useless. She didn’t need a body guard, “They're like Jay and Silent Bob. Only with guns. And tattoos.”
“Oh. Well that makes it all better, doesnae it?” was the sarcastic response, while shaking his head at her like she’s off her head, nutters bonkers insane. But there were more pressing matters, coming into immediate view.
“Is that it, then?” He pointed up ahead at a white building, an old car garage, but not so old that it looked like it would fall over or not be useable. “Maybe I should take the key now. I can let meself in. “ And then she can head back and he can make sure the gun toting tattoo'd Jay and Silent Bob drug dealers don't give her any trouble by watching her. Yes!
Cass pulled out the keys, pushing past him, “ No, I want to see this place! Its like..a man cave. Of metallic death”
“Who told ye that! It’s probably not. But are ye nae on yer shift, Cass?” You know, that work thing you're supposed to be doing? Back at that bar place? Where booze lives? She was ignoring him again. There goes the expression of Scotty no likey.
“Yer a stubborn one, aren't ye,” he flat out told her, as a undeniable statement of factitude. “Go on then, unlock it.” He sounded exasperated, but really wasn't. Okay fine, maybe he was, just a little bit.
“Joe can handle it!” She unlocked the door. Inside it looked like a nightmare of twisted metal and rusted objects.
Scotty waited with all the patience of a kid on Christmas Eve. But once the door opened he slowly leaned in and looked around. His eyes bugged out at the sheer awesome and win of sharp jagged rusty metal twisty doom things!
There was only one thing that could be said about this, and that was: “Briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiillia
He moved inside swiftly, dropping his tool bag down with a loud clatter, and looked ready to dive right in and dig around. Even if there wasn’t any lighting, he could still see enough to know what everything was before it ended up here, and what it could be turned into, someday.
“Oh, aye, I can use this. OH, I can use that! Oh, that's guuuuuuuuuuuuuuude, I can use that as well!” He climbed up atop a pile, nearest the door, and started sorting like he's in a scrap yard and everything is made of pure gold.
“Ah! WELDING STUFF! I can get that working again,” he said like he's sure of it. “Can ye hit the lights? ARE there lights? Get in me bag an' get me torch, would ye?”
“You’ll get tetanus!” She looked around, afraid to move for fear of shredding her uniform. She finally hit the lights while wincing. They were bright....blinding even!
Scotty was standing on top of heap, and it looked like he was almost ready to stand there in a Superman pose.
“Pfft!” he hissed, like he so would not. “I've had me shots! Last month.” He muttered darkly as though it had sucked, but that rust pile hadn’t been as good as THIS one was. “I can sandblast the rust offae this an’ that, aye.” He kicked something over, nearly toppling off the pile, before hopping down onto the floor. “Varric outdid himself, tha's fae certain!”
“You're going to engineer the shit out of this place!” Varric’s voice came from above, like some sort of chest-hair god. He was standing in a loft that looked out over the garage. A tiny living area, but a living area none the less. It was effectively a studio apartment.
“Aye!” Scotty agreed and proceeded to head up that way, thanking him profusely the entire way. He was generally being quite YAY about the whole matter. And there’s the shaking of hands and much backpatting going on.
“Only you would climb up 4 tons of rusted metal, Tinker.”
“But it's nae rusted. It's...suffering from a lack o' proper love an' care!”
“Its rusted. All dressed up in a nice suit, the writer looked like he should be out of place, but he stood there like he belonged there. Generally, Varric could belong anywhere.
“Nae, not really.” He shook his head in disagreement. “It's fine. I can use it. Why're ye in a suit again?” Oh no, he had been on another date. Whoever it was, had to be disappointed that they’d brought back here. Scotty took a quick look around for whoever the unlucky lady was, but saw no one else beyond the three of them. Good then! Then it’s time for ye auld brofist bump of YAY!
Brofist! “I felt like it. I had a date.” He threw his arms out, “With my best friend!”
The waistress wasn’t sure if she wanted to gag or not. She did at first before her mind found the gutter and went places no sane mind should.
“Not in front of me nemesis!” He nodded in Cass' direction. “She might get ideas an' ye'll never have a chance at her.” Because it had only been obvious since Cass was always giving Varric the oogly eyes. Ugh! Oh well, enough about the nemesis. He was so beside himself with man glee, that it was time for a bro hug, too! He even smooched Varric on the forehead. For shits and giggles!
Her camera appeared in her hand and she snapped a picture!
Did he detect the tiny and very unnecessary shutter click audio snippet, of a phone taking a picture of them. He did, because he pointed at Cass and she had her phone in her hand. “OH NAE YE DINNAE!”
Before she could be stopped, she’d sent it to her contact list. Next to Scotty Varric was holding his sides, trying to hold back laughter.
“LASSIE GIMMAE THAT PHONE! Are ye...YE ARENAE SENDING THAT OUT ARE YE?!” Ugh, it was too late, he couldn’t get there in time. “I'm breaking her phone. Cassie! How's he supposed tae get girls now? Ye tarnished him!” Wait a minute? “AN' ME AS WELL!”
Yes, there was that also! Scotty gave her THE SCOWL OF SCOTTISH DOOM! It’s very foreboding. He’d probably let it slide, someday, eventually. Even so, she can’t stay there by that open door or Jay and Silent Bob might kidnap her and hold her for ransom, until they get an extra barrel of crack and she’s shipped off to some harem in Arabia.
“Oh. Get up here, would ye.” See? He let it go, already, and waved her to come up the steps, with them. Not just because of the Arabia thing, either, but because she also had his bag of clothes and he’d need those.
“I'll rip something!!” She was already starting to climb, even before he asked. Challenge accepted.
“You're hardly a gentleman,” Varric said, elbowing his friend. Meanwhile, Cass lost a heel, and then ripped a stocking, but still she persisted. She moved carefully, wanting to avoid puncturing herself with anything rusty. Varric winced.
Scotty WINCED. wince. WINCE! wince. wince. WIIIIIIIIINCE! Enough already!
“Stop, I'll come down before ye kill yerself.” He did just that, taking his bag from her first of all and trying to help her over the piles of scrap, even took her by her fool arse hand and everything, to try to help. Maybe he even muttered to her about how she's the one who's going to need a tetanus shot, since he thought he heard the ripping of material, that could only be a part of her waitress uniform, again.
Well, that couldn’t go on. He was not looking. Only one quick solution came to mind, and he set his mouth into a firm line.
“This' gonnae kill me later but...get on me back, lass. Hop tae, up we go.” He turned his back to her and steadied himself.
“What? no.. no way.”
“Nae, it's fine an' well. Hop up.” He nodded like yep he's ready! He even held the bag strap with one hand, and gave his lower back a pat with his free hand” Ye gonna get scraped up, otherwise. Up we go, an' nae talking back!”
Her look should have left him a smoking corpse. With a sigh, she climbed onto his back.
He let out a mighty ‘oomph!’ noise of GAWDS YE'RE HEAVY! Luckily she couldn't see him making a face like he was about ready to laugh his fool arse off at his own joke. But it only lasted a second, because he was starting over some scrap metal, and navigation was a bit more difficult with a girl on his back and a bag to maneuver around with.
DId he just... She smacked him, “ I heard that! I'm not heavy!”
This time the ‘oomph!’ noise was for real.
“Dunnae hit me while I'm stepping over this shite! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YE?! I could drop ye on yer arse, an' we'd risk collapsing the whole thing down around us!” Ha, he was on a roll today, trying not to crack up laughing, and wincing like he expected another smacking.
“You wouldn't dare!” She clung, harder, threatening to cut off his air.
”Drop ye? I might if me back gives out!” But he didn’t, and got her over the pile, without dropping his bag, either. “Down ye go, lassie. Safe an’ sound!”
He would also like to note that he did not like clinging. No, he didn’t. At all.
She punched his side again. Varric eyed them, “You have a truce now?”
“Oh hell no!” Cass looked at him, wide-eyed.
“NO! And stop punching me in me liver, I need it!” He just about dropped her and was as cranky sounding as ever, because he didn’t -want- to drop her. “GET AFF!”
“No, I'm comfy.” Cass wrapped her legs around him.
“GET AFF!” He bouncin in place, nearly sending them both toppling over. “OCHHHHH ye'gonna put me back out!”
No luck, it was like she was 100% spider monkey. So he stopped and stood there, beady eyed and fuming. Plan? He needed one. Ah! Got it. Scotty reached one hand up under one of her knees, and tickled a fingertip behind it, in that tickle spot that most girls have that makes them go SQUEEK and flail.
“You'll put me down on a rusted naaaaaaaaaillll!” She flailed, and squeaked, just like he’d hoped.
Success! he turned enough that she could land on perhaps the only clear patch in the entire place. SCOTTISH TRIUMPH! BEST RECOGNIZE!
She landed, sprawled out, then pulled off her surviving heel and threw it at him. Then gave him the Middle Finger of Doom. Varric shook his head.
Scotty glared at the shoe! Then he glared at that shoe’s owner! Is that how she wanted it, then? He snatched it up and threw it into some far corner of the garage, before heading up the stairs with his bag of clothes, the strap in one hand, and the other hand giving her a dual fingered salute.
“That uniform is coming out of your paycheck,” Varric was only half-serious.
Scotty stopped short, still flipping her off, but a wince almost crossed his face. Even so, he couldn’t hide sounding a little dejected.
“...aww that's a bit much...” Wait, they had to keep up appearances! He stopped himself and fought off an eyedarting fit. “Why nae jus' make her clean the friers?”
“Because Joe never lets anyone near them.”
“Mop the ceiling? It was looking grotty.”
Varric looked incredulous, “Maybe if she ruined four uniforms. Have you SEEN that ceiling?”
Scotty felt guilty and responsible now, and in his mind, it had to be fixed, so he was going to find a way to set it right. Or try to. Somehow. But now probably wasn’t the time. Had to pick one’s battles, after all. Maybe he could convince Varric to go easy, later, when Cass wasn’t around and he wasn’t feeling absolutely guilty over the whole affair. So he shrugged, sharply, and said “Ye are the boss” to leave it at that.
There had to be a safe exit. Varric was perfectly groomed! Cass got to her feet, searching for one.
Varric watched her, and said under his breath, “ I'm worried about her, she hasn't been her usual standards lately.”
“Aye? How so?” He was distracted by having to remain straightfaced, and simultaneously wanting to go help her get out of there, and he had thrown her shoe and...STOP COMPLICATING THINGS!
“Distracted. Angry.”
“Ahh? That's just me makin' her that way. She secretly enjoys it.” He smiled as though he was sure of it. Maybe. Possibly. Perhaps.
“Stop ruining my cheerful barmaids!” Varric jabbed him in the side.
“I cannae guarantee anything! Maybe it’d cheer her up if I'd better get her shoe back, unless ye want tae do that. I dunnae thing those stubby legs ye have can make it though. And another thing? Maybe if she wasnae getting hit on an' her arse grabbed every time the lass turns around, she'd be in better spirits!”
All went silent and Scotty raised one eyebrow up, over very widened eyes. Wow, where had that come from? That sounded snippier than intended. Oh well. He hmphed and grumbled that he was going to go get her shoe. Because it was, after all, the right thing to do.
Varric looked personally affronted, :” ..when did this happen?”
“It was taken care of...nae need tae worry.” After very quickly scouring around and finding her shoe, he held it up, once again triumphant.
“I'm jus' gonnae give this back tae her.” *stands there in awkward silence for a few token seconds. “I'll just dae that now.” And there he goes, scrambling out the door.
Cass had already found her way out, thankyouverymuch and was now making her way, barefoot, back to Mad Dogs.
Not totally barefoot for too much longer, because here comes Scotty, barreling up to her. Unsure of how to further proceed - as he hadn’t thought ahead that far - he lamely held the shoe out to her.
She didn’t look at him. Instead, she rolls up a joint, having made a quick stop at the dealers
Okay so mutely holding out the shoe isn’t working. He tried to think of the right thing to say that wasn’t made of 100% grade A jackass. Because, great, she’s angry.
“Lass, I'll make it up tae ye,” he muttered, before facepalming with his free hand.
“Shove it. What you drink is worse.”
“No, it's fine. I figure after the day ye've had t'day, it's well deserved. I'll help pay for the uniform. Somehow. It's only right!”
She waived a hand dejectedly, “Its my own fault. I'm more upset with myself for disappointing him.”
“I dunnae think ye need tae worry about that too much.” She really had a thing for Varric, didn’t she. That was all too apparent, what with the importance she put on what Varric thought about the whole thing. He made sure to move, standing upwind so he’s not going to get any second hand buzz. After all, he had been in college, he wasn’t unfamiliar with that stuff, but only due to proximity. He just didn’t use it, himself. “Well, if ye not happy, which ye dunnae seem tae be, then why are ye here? Ye could be doin somethin' better.”
“I'm thinking of quitting. I was happy. Kind of.”
“Really.” It looked and sounded like he didn’t believe her at that happy part, not even a little bit.
She glanced at him, finally, “I'm making way less than I was stripping. But I wasn't happy there either.”
Damn, women were complicated. He sighed and eyed Jay and Silent Bob like he wished they’d just move on down the street, instead of being parked between Mad Dogs and the garage. They weren’t budging though, and he had enough problems, so he wasn’t about to push it. At least not at this juncture.
She took a toke, while eyeing him.
He wasn’t the most tactful person, ever, but he was at least honest. So all he had to go with, was what he thought. So she’s getting that. “I dunnae know what tae tell ye. I suppose maybe find something that does make ye really happy an' maybe I...might try...not tae....be quite such a jackarse?”
“That's no fun.”
“Fine, then I can pick on ye. Whatever!” Scotty shrugged sharply and rolled his eyes so he was staring up the sky. If he was lucky, maybe he could spy a meteor falling down and heading directly for him. “If ye gonnae sit around looking like a stick of misery's been shoved up ye bum an' lit on fire, then that's not very fun either. IS IT?”
The smile she gave him was very obviously fake.
This wasn’t working as intended. He sighed and it sounded like he said 'shove it up yer arse then' under his breath. It wasn’t very grumpy sounding, but more deflated like he was left at a loss as to how to proceed. For once.
“Not on a first date.” She glanced aside at him again and winked.
Maybe he should say that louder, but she might kick him or....WUT?! He swore he heard a record scratching noise inside his skull, right there, at the date bit. Oh, wait, she’s being sarcastic!
“Naughty.” He scoff laughed like she had to be joking, and tried to think of some other alternate route to make things better again. Ah ha! Solution! He took out twenty dollars from his pocket, grabbed her hand, ploped it there, and closed her fingers over it with a gentle squeeze of his hand over her’s. Pit pat. “There. Buy more of that stuff if it makes ye happy. An' shuttup. I got ye in enough trouble an' I dunnae want tae feel guilty about it.”
She crushed the money in her hand, then thrust it back at him, “I don’t need your charity!”
“It's not charity! It's helping out is all. We had a truce.” He glared at her. “Take it an' shut it. Nae room tae complain. Just...” He stopped and made a horrible face back at her. “Stop making sour faces. It's not all so bad.”
“I'm not a machine, there's nothing to fix.”
Scotty scowled at that. Fiercely.
“Nae one else is gonnae fix it for ye any way ye look at it, lass. Except maybe yerself?” He made a scoffing noise, but that was aimed at himself, not at her. “I'm shite at this. I'm gonnae go back inside.”
"You've got a garage to clean up, I've got to change." She bit back something cruel. He didn't deserve it, at least not right now.
“Dunnae nag me, I'm movin' me own arse, thank ye verreh muchly!” He was heading back as it was, he didn’t need reminded!
If he was going to insist, she was going to keep the money. She finished her joint and went back to buy more.
Scotty looked like a thundercloud just landed over his head and it was raining nonstop on top of him and following his every move. He went back into the garage, picked up the bag of clothes and started dragging them up to the loft. Yep, that’s what he is doing! He is not going to be concerned with other things, not at all. Dropping bag down now. Deep breath. Lets it out. And it’s BACK TO WORK TIMES!
Varric was a bit protective, so he eyed Scotty. He was feeling guilty.
Scotty, however, looked like things were back to the norm. He was taking a good hard look at everything from his vantage point, and stated suddenly, as though he lacked a brain to mouth filter, ”Aye, this' rather nice! Thank ye, an' I'll get tae work after I get some sleep.”
“Get some sleep. And don't worry about Cass. I feel guilty. I'll talk to her.”
Ehhh? His brain just got mini-scrambled. Oh, that might not be good, if she was high as a kite. Talk about bad timing. He fought off the urge to have his palm meet his face in a most painful sounding way.
“Maybe later an' give the lass some time tae cool off? Or...do as ye see fit, aye.” After all, it wasn’t his business. Not his business not his business scrap build weld construct wire fuel...nothing else, nope!
“I shouldn’t have acted like that over a uniform.” Varric sounded serious. Cass was too good and too nice a woman to lose over clothing.
Scotty only shrugged sharply and held up both hands like he was fending that whole discussion off, entirely. It probably didn’t help that had a somewhat incriminating yet strangely innocent expression of DUNNAE KNOW THOSE CRAZY FEMALE TYPE THINGS WITH THEIR CRAZY HORMONES AND GENERAL CRAZINESS! WHO CAN TELL! NOT ME! NAE WAY NAE HOW! Quick! Cover it up! He idly asked the entire space like it can answer his question in some nice automated voice from a computer or something of that sort. Maybe the scrap would start talking.
“I hope ye have a broom around here.” He waved it off with one hand. “Am sure there's one in a corner somewheres.“
“Don't ask me, I only co-signed the lease.”
“Ahh, well...best get tae work then, aye. Lots tae do!” He backpatted Varric and had a face that was all n_n and everything. While nodding profusely. “Get some money coming in, tae pay for all this.”
“Good.” Varric pointed, “There was a derelict snowmobile in the corner, might be able to salvage it for the bot.”
“Brilliant! That'll work. Nae much less convention time for when the next one comes 'round. But I guess...maybe we're gettin' tae auld for that shite, Varric. Just a wee bit!” He pinched fingers together while smiling.
“I want a fucking airship, Tinker. I'll never be too old.”
He thought on that. “Aye. Well that'd be nice. I'll build ye a balloon one. Lots o' bronzed trimmings. Would that suffice?”
“Rigid skin?”
“Hmm we'll see. I could make ye something like the hindenburg, only without...ye know...the..?” He held up both hands, making blooming fingers motion of explodey while he makes a kaboom noise to emphasize the point.
“I know you're excited,” Varric replied, slapping him on the shoulder, “but try to sleep.”
“I'll try.” A nod and a smile, and Scotty told himself he could probably stand a catnap, and then maybe get started sorting and cleaning. “Uhh...I suppose, maybe take it easy on Cass then, if she's nae been herself lately maybe some other things're...bothering the lassie. Not that I'd know!”
“Not a bad idea.”
Scotty nodded, profusely. “Probably! Not that I'd know. Like I'd said.” So there, that’s his story and he’s sticking to it. Because doesn't honestly know and is not going to think about ripped barmaid uniforms or her clinging onto his back or ballstomping or nothing! NEWP! HAS A STEEL TRAPPED MIND OF PRODUCTIVITY!
Giving him a nod, Varric headed out.
Scotty let out a tiny phew of an exhale. He eyed the bed, then looked at the stuff below. Like it was a choice? He pulled on his gloves, diving right into the thick of it and getting to work! :D At least this way, he could make sure he was really tuckered out and get a regular night’s worth of sleep. See? Smarts! He has them! Mun note: sometimes..