InsaneJournal

My coffee isnae cement!
Who: Moira, Scotty, Gaila
What: The MacTaggert/Scott clan war has a temporary cease fire. It's like the Hatfields/McCoys only with verbal ammunition and scotch. Includes mention of the Tony Stark incident.
When: Umm...today-ish!
Where: Scotty's garage/workshop, Santa Ana
Rating: PG13, usual language stuff
Status: Complete!



"So I understand that a numpty nippet of a good for nothin' cousin is livin' in this run down place?" Moira was still wearing her lab coat as she walked up behind Scotty, folding her arms, "Sae its true! Mum was right!"

If there was any sound that could send a shiver of revulsion up his spine, it would be anything from the MacTaggert side of the...he couldn't think 'family' because that would be unheard of. Instead he thought 'that side of the fence' and wished that the fence had razor wire ran over the top of it, and landmines directly on either side of that fence. It was too late though. It had somehow tap danced through the no man's land and infiltrated his sacred space. Scotty stared straight forward with a squint and a scowl, dropping the instrumentation he was calibrating so that it would have to be utterly recalibrated.

"Tell yer mum tae go doon tae the local pub an' get stuffed," he snappishly said, hoping that verbal assault would be enough to get the ruffian back onto it's side of the battlefield. "Me mum said she heard it might dae her some good, since yer da's not up tae the task."

"I heard otherwise from yuir mum," Moira retorted. "Since she was all twisted about him pickin' my mum instead of yuirs!"

"Well, that's the difference. Ye know, some lads like a loose lass that can bang like a dunny door in a thunderstorm. And that was yer mum," he pleasantly retorted. "He went with the easier choice, that's all."

He wagged both of his hands around, already in a fine fury. "What're ye doin' here? This' aff limits. Get tae yer own side of the...state!"

"O'course he went with the easy choice! Yuir mum had every man in a ten klick radius, sometimes all at once!" She poked him in the chest, "I was here first, lad. Get tae yuir own side o'the state!"

"Dumb arse, I meant yer mum was the easy one. It's pretty much a notorious fact that me mum isnae taking any shite from anyone, so that it took a particularly brave man tae pursue her. It's not our fault he went deaf halfway through their marriage. He shouldae had his hearing screened beforehand." He kicked at a nearby bin of wiring and scrap, which was fine because it likely wasn't salvageable stuff anyway. "I was here first! I'm also, I'll have ye know, NOT THE ONE INVADING YER MAD SCIENTIST TINKER LAB, ye genetic engineerin' arse hat! Gae away!"

"I've been in California longer, y'nyaff! M'sorry I even stopped by t'say hello t'the only family besides me girl within six thousand miles!" Moira threw up her hands in 'whatsamatteryou' form. It must run in the family! "Sae good bye, Monty. I've got important shite tae do, that saves lives."

"Right, ye go do that. I've got more interestin' things tae do as well. And I've been in this country for longer, so go home would ye? Can ye not let me build things in peace?!" There went his hands, up in the whatsamatteryou gesture right back at her! "Ye know we're nae supposed tae be seen associatin' with one another! Ye must have a brain tumor or the likes, if me maw finds oot, she's goin' tae spontaneously combust with rage!"

That last part was said like he was wondering what the hell his cousin was doing, because she was running a great risk.

"Jackarse. Maybe thats why I'm here, tae make ye mum combust!" She rolled her eyes, and then held up a bottle of scotch as a peace offering, "What they dunnae know willnae kill them. Peace?"

"Me mum has spies," he was saying, eyeing the scotch like that was a very nice gesture, even if it was from the enemy side of the family. His voice had a much softer edge to it, and he stopped glaring at least. "I dinnae want tae end up like Robert. Ye know, where it's like...'ye used tae have a brother, before he married himself aff tae that seventh cousin thrice removed demon bitch an' now ye dinnae have a brother anymore.' I dinnae want tae end up disowned. Is that the good stuff?"

"Of course its t'good stuff, lad." She spun it around so he could see the date on the label, "Ye dunnae use shite for family, even if its t'dog side o'the family!"

"Remind me why yer here, again," he said, with half opened eyes and his mouth turned down at the corners, like she just went and ruined it. Nevertheless, he imperiously pointed at a nearby stool at the workbench, like she could sit her butt down on it. "Well, I suppose that I can spare some time for the demonic shite heid side o' the family."

"Hey! I'm nae a shite head!"

Scotty just shrugged very sharply and looked off to one side, because if the shoe fit...the MacTaggerts were wearing it?

Moira sat at the stool, popping open the bottle and producing two fancy shot glasses from somewhere in her lab coat. Because naturally, she carries shot glasses in her lab coat.

Oh good, that meant he didn't have to bring down the pink coffee mugs! Even if there was more room in the mugs. He wasn't about to complain. He pulled a stool over so it was a respectable distance away, where they could still have room to swing their arms to throw things if need be.

"Right. We cannae speak a word of this, ever, tae anyone. Yer mum is as bad as mine is. Ye know ye'd get us both disowned."

"Aye, I know." She poured the whiskey, sliding his shot glass over, "Do ye even know why they fight so hard?
"
"I think it's because they realized tae late that maybe they shouldae switched husbands. Pretty much certain our fathers probably wished the same. Look. I'm not sure anymore, but the hate's very much there, an' they will go tae their graves with it." He took the shotglass and made a little toasting gesture, after making sure she was ready to drink as well. "So what Frankenstein-esque bollocks have ye been sticking yer face in, lately?"

Moira toasted as well, then knocked back her drink, "This is confidential, aye? I cannae name names or anythin'. Big thing."

Down went the scotch and he made a face, of the 'that was very good!' variety. It definitely improved his mood. "When do I ever get oot or go around boasting of shite that I havenae done, meself?"

"Point." She nodded her head, pointing at him, "Saved a man's life implantin' a doodad in his chest." Doodad. It was a technical term.

"Is that anything like a thingiemabob?" he inquired, gesturing around with the idle wave of a hand toward...a whole lot of shop thingiemabobs. That is also a technical term. "Or is it a doohickie?"

Because there's a difference.

She pointed at his particle accelerator, "Shaped like that doohickie, Monty."

Oh no, the family name. He let it slip, since she was family so 'Monty' was allowed. He shrugged and then, stopped, and looked at what must be a different, tinker toy model version of an accelerator (he gave the original one to Chekov!), and then at her, and then back and forth again.

"Ye put it in his chest, really?"

"Aye! It had magnetic repulsion!" She picked up some bolts and put them on the workbench, with the scotch bottle being the 'heart' "T'Scotch bottle is the heart, an' t'bolts are shrapnel." She picked up a stale donut that happened to be out, and put it nearby, "The doohickie keeps the shrapnel from gettin' closer."

"Sae let me guess, an' I'm not medically inclined, but this was shrapnel that couldnae be removed, aye?" He paused for a moment, looking over the sort of diagram before him that only someone born in Scotland could understand and appreciate. Mostly because of the scotch involved. "Well. That's brilliant. It must have some serious charge tae keep things hangin' in the balance like that, ye know. I suppose ye cannae simply amp it up a wee bit, an' repel the shrapnel oot of the way entirely, can ye?""

"Aye, exactly. There was nae way of removing the shrapnel without killin' him. An' he was goin' tae die anyway." She poured herself another shot from the 'heart.' "I dunnae think so. It would shred other organs. His liver was pickled enough as it was."

"Ha! Life well lived, then." Scotty scooted his shot glass over for a refill. "But now he's stuck with it in him, I'd imagine. What if it loses charge? Ye know, there's all sorts of electro-magnetic disruptions that could cause it tae get seriously banjaxed."

"Then he dies, if we cannae figure out a longer term solution. I've been doin' some research, but nae leads yet." She knocked back the shot, "I dunnae know enough about the device, he's the one that built it. I suppose I should ask about it."

"He built it?" One of Scotty's eyebrows arched way up. Didn't he remember reading about something like that on the valar net? "Like a wee reactor, was it? Och! Was it Tony Stark ye worked on? Really? What's he like in person...besides passed oot because he had shrapnel in his chest? Which is pure shite by the way?"

He meant that the guy had shrapnel in his chest, which was shitty to the extreme. Way to seriously foul up someone's day, there.

"SHH! I said nae names!" She thwapped him upside the head, in a familial manner. Because that's what one does to their cousin or sibling. Never a child, but cousins? Totally on-limits, "Handsome, suave, an' a bit of a dick."

"Ouch! Och! Stoppit! The hell!" He had tried to lean away too late and glared at her, still in mid-lean, before he reached out one hand and flicked her on the forehead, leaving a red mark as a momento. "Seemed that way on the valar net. I'm nae goin' tae tell anyone. Yer secret's safe, but that's a huge accomplishment ye know. Ye should be gettin' credit for it."

He didn't mean the handsome part, but the suave and bit of a dick part? Yeah, that.

Really, exactly what you'd expect of Tony Stark, "Easy to be fond of." She leaned in, like it was a secret, "When I got him on t'table, before we got him under again, he asked for his woman's name. It was really sweet!"

"I'll take credit when I know if I still have a medical license," She added.

"So he has soft spots. That's lovely." Scotty rolled his eyes, because girls gushing on about a boy's moment of vulnerability was like realizing the sky was blue. "I dinnae know why they'd take yer license away. That's ridiculous, so dinna fash yersel, ye know? I'm sure he'd vouch for ye...unless he's an absolute ingrate."

Moira shrugged, "I'm nae tae worried, but it would be nice tae know for certain."

"Well, how dae ye find oot? Did ye need someone tae vouch for ye? I could. But me own record isnae without some blights upon it. Unfortunately."

He was not giving details. Even his own family wasn't made aware of it, and everyone else had either dug in for information or been in a physics class to even hear about the general scope of the story, likely without naming names. From what he gathered from Chekov's account.

"I dunnae want any details." She laughed. "I'll have a wee talk with Miss Potts."

"I think ye ought tae have a wee talk with someone," he pointed out, albeit in a profoundly cranky way. "Even if it was experimental, ye know, ye get nowhere dealin' with that much red tape without some practical application. They shouldnae punish you for savin' someone's life."

"Aye!" She poured him another shot, then took a drink right from the bottle, "I've been threatened because of my coffee, but never savin' someone's life."

"I've been warned about the coffee. I'm never tae touch the stuff. I've heard it's like condensed tar mixed with powdered gravel, that is only wet by virtue of a dog havin' pissed on it."

"That's bullshite!" Moira slapped her hands on the table, "I make fantastic coffee! Just because sae few have weak stomachs doesnae mean its bad!" Moira coffee is best coffee! At least to Moira.

"Yer coffee," he wasted no time reassuring her in that tone of voice like he knows the facts, "I've been told, is enough tae cause kidney failure on contact. I'm nae touchin' it. It's volatile. It should be listed as a hazardous material."

"Ye've never had it, therefore ye cannae know what its like. Never believe everything ye hear, bampot."

"I've been told by first hand accounts, before I left for the states. Though told is putting it lightly. Warned, like it should have it's own warning system enabled at all times, is more like it."

"They're talking out their arses!" She got up, "where's yuir coffee maker!"

"Oh no ye dinnae," he said, standing up as well. "Ye ruin yer own coffeemaker. I just got mine tae behave. Ye arenae touchin' it, because it's for coffee. Not for churning cement."

"My coffee isnae cement!!"

"I've heard it sticks tae throats like it is."

"Who's coffee isn't cement?" Gaila peered down the stairs at them.

Scotty's eyes went round and he stared at Moira like they'd been found out.

"Mine!" Moira looked up at the girl, then tilted her head. Then she looked at Scotty, then the girl, "Good god yuir a pervert! How old is she?!"

"Shuttup, she's legal! What's wrong with ye!" he nearly squeaked indignantly, like he couldn't believe she said that. "Just because no one would touch ye with a fifty foot pole, dinnae mean the rest of us have tae suffer the same fate!"

"Plenty of lads would want a piece of this," Moira retorted, eyeing the girl up and down. "Are ye well?" Nah, it was just the lighting, "I'm Moira, this bampot's cousin."

"OMG! Family!" Gaila slid down the banister, glomping onto Moira, "Hi! I'm Gaila!" She held up her finger, "We're engaged!"

Moira stared over the redhead at Scotty, like 'wtf?'

Scotty smiled. Sheepishly. Then held up one of his index fingers to his lips in the classic 'shh don't tell' sort of way. Because he hadn't broke the news to his family quite yet.

"Long...engagement, aye, ye know...one of those five year affairs. Ye tell me mum, and I swear I will gut ye," he warned Moira, with a grin that looked painful.

"Oh, I'm nae tellin' anyone. We wouldnae want tae break their hearts. Besides, ye know they'll try tae marry ye two off within' a week." It was the truth. It had happened to one of her brothers!

He was very lucky that his own brother had to sneak off, and that Clara had gotten knocked up, because otherwise the attention would have fallen onto him to get married off. And he simply hadn't been willing to, was too busy, and hadn't wanted to bother with the whole mess...since back then, it would have been a huge distraction. How he was managing to juggle a green girl and working on a project at the same time in the present, was mind-boggling even to himself.

"Good. Because I mightae been serious about the gutting. Gaila, this' Moira, me cousin from the enemy side of the family. Never mentioned tae me mum that ye saw us talkin'. It's forbidden. An' Moira, this is me old enough girlfriend, Gaila. I'll flick a finger at yer forehead again if ye get offensive. I'm nae that old. Ye arse."

He was old enough. So there. Nyaaah.

As long as someone gave grandbabies, their mums didn't really care. And Moira had half-helped, with the adoption. She was a little too old to produce one herself, "Yuir old enough!"

Gaila giggled, "I'm twenty-two, I'm plenty legal."

Moira's eyes about bugged out, "Yuir younger than me own wee bairn?!" Because of course, Rahne would always be her wee bairn. She whirled and started thwapping Scotty on the arm and shoulder, each thwap punctuated by a word, "What. Are. Ye. Doin'. With. A. Bairn. Fifteen. Years. Yuir. Junior?!" She huffed, and folded her arms, then smiled at Gaila, much gentler and nicer, "Its a pleasure tae meet ye. If yuir able tae put up with his bullshite, welcome tae the family."

"I'm only thirty-six! It's not like I'm bloody ancient like you are!" he protested, though the thwaps had some force to them and he was left rubbing the ache out of his poor arm. He rolled his eyes, standing safely behind her, so he didn't get thwapped yet again.

He also wisely refrained from saying anything about dust and cobwebs at her, as a snide remark.

Gaila decided that she really rather liked this woman. She hugged her again, "Its nice to meet you! And you don't have anything to worry about. And I'm perfectly sane, before you ask."

"I wasnae...okay. I may have wanted tae."

"Oh, really?" he asked, his mouth seemingly to be stuck on auto-attack. "Because I'm becoming thoroughly convinced that anything with breasts an' more than two pairs of shoes, is beyond insane."

Moira and Gaila shared a look, and then as one, turned and thwapped him.

Moira decided Gaila wasn't so bad. For an Irish.

Glare. Scotty decided they were both bad and abusive women, and he was going to make himself scarce by finding the tools he needed to finish the work he was doing. So he did that.

Gaila led Moira upstairs, so that they could get to know one another. And talk girl talk.