Montgomery Scott is a miracle worker (warp_speed) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-03-16 01:55:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, faiza hussain (excalibur), gaila, leonard mccoy, montgomery scott |
"Personally, today, I'm smelling..."
Who: Faiza, McCoy, Scotty, Gaila (via text)
What: morning breakfast a'la Scotty's cooking fail, medical talk between medical types. Some texting with Cass (Gaila). The room got hot. Flail fleeing happened. <3
When: Today! (the morning after the bar brawl - helms deep edition)
Where: Mad Monty's repairs.
Rating: PG-13, language
Status: Complete
The aroma wafting down from the loft was one of fire. Not in progress, for there wasn't copious amounts of smoke, but more along the lines of someone had been recently grilling some barbeque at some point that morning. Indoors. Using charcoal. Most likely, that someone had waited until most everyone cleared out and went home. Which was a good thing, since it would've been shitty to smoke out Sulu and Kirk (and everyone else who crashed there), with bad some incredi-bad cooking.
He'd even managed to turn the tomato black, as well as the sausage patties. And the toast. And everything else, except the can of beans in tomato sauce. Because that had instructions written on it. Nothing else HAD instructions.
Scotty could fix engines, he could build them, even, probably with bubblegum and paperclips. He could keep them running with spit and duct tape.
He could NOT cook.
And if he sees Faiza come anywhere near him with a doctor's bag, she is going to have an evil eye glare lobbed right at her.
Faiza walked in, staring up the stairs at the cloud of acrid smoke hanging low enough to be a tad worrisome. She crept up the stairs, waving her hand to clear the air and coughing a bit. Fortunately for her, the bag she was lugging was not her doctor bag, but a huge shopping bag. With a remote control in it.
"Goodness! Scotty are you trying to kill someone? Namely yourself?"
He looked up at Faiza from where he was sitting next to his crate table, ready to scoop a big bite of beans on toast into his open mouth. Kill someone? What in the where now? Scotty looked around and sure, it was still a wee bit hazy from his extremely excellent cooking skills and he'd left out the oil and butter on the counter, but it hardly looked like the scene of a massacre.
He also eyed her bag quickly, to make sure it wasn't a doctor's bag. Nope! All his scuffs, cuts, and bruises from last night's battle, were safe from being poked, prodded, and sanitized. He'd already dumped some peroxide over his face earlier. And - by some miracle - he'd been able to keep it out of his scrunched closed eyes, even as he did a Scottish pain dance in the bathroom.
"I told ye, I was having breakfast," he said, simply, like this was entirely normal. Then he gestured with his fork over toward the coffee machine. "Cups are above it, help yerself!"
Deciding that she'd write to get Scotty into the next season of 'Worst Cooks in America," Faiza marched in and carefully set the bag down next to Scotty. She eyed him, shifting from foot to foot antsy-like, as if she really really needed to treat him but PROMISED NO BAG.
Huffing, she made her way to the coffee maker of doom and helped herself, "I think thats a good one."
It's not of doom, because he's whipped it into submission at least once already, and could tear it apart and make it behave should it try any funny business. Now it just makes regular coffee as regular coffeemakers should do, no fuss involved.
"What's a good one? The remote?" Nom nom nom goes Scotty on his bean n' cajunized burnt toast combo, with a smudge of soft coagulated egg yolk in there for good measure. Pretty sure it was a carb and cholesterol overload.
He did nod though, to let her know, that it looked like a fine remote indeed. Look! She even got a thumb's up!
It was plotting. Just shy of gaining sentience and turning on its masters in nuclear armaggeddon, only Scotty stood between humanity and the Matrix.
Faiza nodded her head, walking over and sitting across from him. She sipped at her coffee and tried to look anywhere but at what he was eating. Still, she blurted, "You eat almost as badly as my ex."
Someone has to stand between it. Besides? If it misbehaved that badly, he'd just get the blowtorch and melt it down, then buy a cheap 30 dollar coffeemaker that simply made coffee, and had good user reviews.
"Gooood on him, for eating sae well," was the sassily given retort, before the last bite of burned toast was popped into his mouth. Mmmm!
Coffee makers worked on a hive mind.
"So well? Are you kidding me? He'll have two heart attacks before he's forty! Three, if he continues to smoke." Faiza made a scoffing sound, of scoffingness. She was over him. Mostly. Wow this coffee was so good, mmm, "That remote was easier to track down than I thought. Local hobby shop."
Scotty would be pretty sure he could fix it, no matter the situation. A coffee maker not working correctly isn't going to be that much of a challenge!
"Ye only live once, might as well enjoy one's self." And down went the rest of his cup of coffee. He'd long since polished off the can of lager, there. Nearly sent it toppling over too with his elbow, as he raised his arms up to stretch, and yawned a little. One shoulder was rolled as though he was working a knot out in a muscle. Probably from punching Tony so many times. "Didnae put ye out tae much, I hope. How much did ye pay?"
"I fail to see how having grotty lungs and obstructed arteries is going to make me enjoy my life," She retorted, sounding a little exasperated. And amused. She wasn't as put out as she was pretending to be. She waved a hand, "Don't worry about it. I know Varric is crazy and helping but I wanted to help too."
"Want tae make sure ye dinnae get a bad deal, is all." He shrugged and wasn't put out, at all. He slouched down in the chair at an odd angle, with one arm thrown over the back of it, and quite possibly the only thing holding him upright. Carb overload, indeed. He also looked as though his face had met a floor a few times, rather abruptly. Nothing too bad though! He hadn't split his lip, at least! He shot her a wry smile. "Just make sure ye win. If ye dunnae, then try again, sae we all get paid."
"I don't think I did." She smiled brightly, glad to be on this subject.
"And we'll win!"
"Well we'd better win," Scotty was saying, "because I'd hate tae live aff ramen noodles for the rest of the year."
"Ramen noodles?" A groggy, southern tinged voice asks as a bleary McCoy steps through and gives Scotty a little nod. And then his gaze settles on Faiza. "Oh GOD please tell me I didn't say or do anything potentially humiliating while you were around us, though I think I'd remember you."
She peered at the man, tilting her head, "Oh, no, I missed all the fun, duck."
"Nae, this' Faiza, she's the owner of the battle robo, in the garage. She missed it all," Scotty said, cheerily, pointing over to the coffeemaker of normalcy. "Ye look like a lorry ran ye right over. Coffee's there."
"Thank you, all that's holy." McCoy gives her a little smile. "So I'm Leo and you didn't see me making a fool of myself, Just looking incredibly out of it. That's good. And Scotty, you're a lifesaver. I could almost kiss you."
"Do you normally get this reaction from men in your shop?!"
"I thought Kirk had dibs on ye, though. Am I suddenly popular again?" Scotty gave McCoy a little wink, like 'hey there, big boy' and then rolled his eyes and chuckled a little. THEN he answered Faiza. "It's all the grease an' oil an' sweat. Real turn on."
Of course, he hadn't been banging around in the shop yet, so the only thing messy about Scotty was the fact his clothes smelled like charcoal.
"Open relationship." McCoy waved a hand. "I'll clear it with him." Then he grinned. "Personally, today, I'm smelling...did a couple hot dogs die in here or something?" George Foreman would be horrified, he thinks.
Faiza looked between them, incredulously. Like she couldn't possibly believe what they were talking about. It was so scandelous, she decided to play along, "Well if you enjoy it so much, kiss for me?"
"Full breakfast," Scotty was saying, with pride. He was ignoring Faiza, entirely. "Made it meself. Did ye want some? I think I've got bits an' bobs left over, I can throw them tae~gether!"
If there was one smell associated with that breakfast, it would be whatever the color grey smelled like. Sooty, maybe.
For her part, Faiza was glad she'd eaten already. It didn't look appetizing.
"Uh that's all right, I'll pass on that." McCoy made a face. "Food and me...not a good idea right now." And he grinned at Faiza. "I would take you up on that but for the fact I'm not exactly at my freshest so, I'll offer you a raincheck. Only be polite and all."
"Oh shite, it's not even that big of a deal. Not the food, the kiss. Here." Scotty got up, patted both hands down on McCoy's shoulders, leaned in and gave him a smooch on the cheek, then smiled and went to get a refill of coffee. "Ye want cream an' sugar? I've only got powdered, I'm afraid. I dunnae use it. Nasty stuff."
"Too bad you're bloody girlfriend is missing this." Faiza waved a hand at the two of them, offering a smirk, "Something tells me she'd charge admission."
She'd probably just take pictures and text it to everyone, Scotty was thinking, but not announcing it outloud. He hoped.
McCoy shrugged and returned the gesture, since, after all, it was only right, considering. Then he grinned. "I'm fine, thanks. Aww does that mean we'll be doing this again? Cause I've got to say, nice as you are, I don't know that you're my type persay."
Faiza noted no objection to the word 'girlfriend' but didn't pursue it. Instead, she got to her feet, "Would you like some coffee..Leo was it?" She found him charming, in a roughneck sort of way. And he looked like he had a surgeon's hand. ...Bugger off she liked hands.
"Stop that, ye gaen tae make me blush," Scotty shooed him off with one hand, and then shooed Faiza off. "I've got it! I know how tae make coffee!" Because it had instructions....
"Because it has sodding instructions!" The Brit threw up her hands, "You couldn't cook without them, I can tell!"
"Oh, bollocks! I could tae!" Protestaaaaation. And Scotty paused to pick some charcoal out from between his teeth with a squeegie fingertip.
That got a snicker from McCoy. "Aww something tells me you would make an awful wifey." And then he cringed, but watched anyway, fascinated.
Faiza suddenly realized she was in the middle of a joke. A scots man, a british muslim and a ....southerner? were drinking coffee together, and then there were the gay jokes.
All they needed was a black rabbi.
No! He's turning his back so neither McCoy or Faiza could see anything else. It doesn't mean anything. Nothing wrong with a bit of charcoal. It was good for the constitution and probably digestion. So there, justified. Scotty stood up straight and looked like he knew all and could pwn all. And still be part of a rather odd and potentially racist 'so ___, ___, and a ___ walked into a ___' joke.
Just mix and match your nationalities and location, to suit the situation.
In Faiza's experience those jokes were rarely funny.
In Scotty's experience, they were kinda hilarious sometimes, but mostly just made you want to wince a lot.
Yes! At the wincing!
In McCoy's the joke was usually about a yankee.
None of them were yankees! Win!
To Faiza, McCoy was a Yank.
"Where'd you meet the yank, Scotty? Was it another bar fight?"
Don't tell him that, Scotty would have mindfully informed her, as he once shot his mouth off in Texas and they didn't like....ohhh she went there. Scotty was waving both hands like YE DINNAE JUST SAY....OH, YE DID.
Faiza looked at Scotty like he was nutters.
Quickly, Scotty tried to smooth things over, "He's from the southern states, lass, an' aye, it was a bar fight."
"The what now?" McCoy asked her, then he paused a minute. "Ah right. Across the pond, we're all that to you. Well, present company excluded, obviously."
"Well, right," Scotty was saying, tipping his chin down a little bit and wincing at McCoy, apologetically. "What he's said. And did I just say bar? ACHH! PUB brawl. Rammy. Punchy fists in a pub. Not a BAR fight."
Faiza rolled her eyes, "Next time CALL me, I promise I don't charge by the hour. And what was this about a gunshot? There was a gunshot and I didn't get to dig around!"
She looked supremely offended
"Sorted, quickly," Scotty said, then took a sip of coffee and looked at McCoy. He was, after all, the puller outer of bullets.
"I mean, not that I don't get ample opportunity to pull bullets out of people, among other objects." She leaned forward, "Did I tell you I had to pull an action figure out of a man's anus? It was stuffed way up there, and it took twenty minutes to find gloves long enough, but anyway point being they don't let me keep the bullets."
And back went the coffee into the cup, because Scotty spit it there.
"It didn't go in all that deep." McCoy explained. "A few subdermal levels but it didn't get near any organs and we kept it clean. Not that I'm meant to be doing that, but..." he shrugged. "When pressed, I can handle it." Then he paused and blinked at her and stared. "Well damn."
"You're a medic?"
Scotty was wisely not saying much, because he was pouring out the coffee into the sink, and getting himself another fresh cup. Faiza is getting a very dirty glare, for mentioning ANYTHING shoved up ANY sort of arse. Cheers.
The bloke's own fault!
Scottish eyetwitch!
"Pathologist." McCoy explained. "Usually by the time they get to me, they're long past anything that I can do besides hop in and poke around. Of course, they're stiller than Kirk was too, but the challenge kept me young."
"Kirk? Tall blighter, flirts with anything with mammaries?"
"Not legs?" McCoy asked, innocent.
She thought about that, "Well he did say my trousers complimented the curve of my shin?"
STIR STIR goes Scotty with the spoon, in one of his unfortunately pink coffee cups. "Ye got tae be joking...."
"Anyway, onto more important matters. Pathologist? That must be fascinating. Certainly less harried." She sat back, chewing on her lip, "Its always hard, when you're losing someone. I don't think I could stand having bodies crossing my table every day, that I couldn't save."
"Less complaints!" Scotty chimed in, before he went and sat back down at the makeshift crate table.
"See there's the part for me that makes it easier for me." McCoy explained. "I don't know that I could cope well with the losing them while they're alive part all that well. Let's just say that sort of thing wasn't a highlight of my residency." He winces a little, remembering.
"I'm sorry..." Faiza leaned over, resting a hand on his arm, "Trust me, it never gets any easier. But that's a sign of a sensitive soul. What you do is as important as what I do. Sometimes, more."
"So what is it you're doing then? Surgery yourself?" McCoy asked, and then, he was checking out her hands too. It's a thing.
Faiza had slender fingers and well cared for hands. She kept her nails short because of, well, gloves, "I work in a private practice and spend a few days a week at hospital helping out. I'm trying to transition full time." She paused, wondering if she should add her volunteer work, but didn't want to sound like she was bragging, "I find when I'm at the practice I'm bored out of my mind."
...were they having hand sex or something? Scotty was trying to drink his coffee, but it was like they were checking out eachother's hands and it wasn't even, like...disguised. Thus proving anyone who cut into other people - dead or alive - for a living? Odd. He went >_> and just drank his coffee!
"Its something for when I'm much, much older, I think." She was still studying McCoy's hands. It was safer than his eyes, which were stunning, "For now I need a little bit of the bustle an excitement. I don't like sitting on my hands."
Scotty was just going to stare at McCoy in that 'hey, lad, dae ye need saved?' sort of way, so he can change the subject. Because someone was getting a wee bit moony.
Faiza was not!
McCoy didn't need any saving, thanks. He had this! I read that as 'he had tits'
All righty then! Scotty just pulled the shopping bag back over, took the remote controller for the robot out, and gave it a good looking over!You would read it that way, eeesh!I can't help it, my mind, its dirty
"That'd get to me too." McCoy admitted. "One thing I can say about my work, it's never quiet."
"What's the strangest corpse you've ever worked over?" Faiza gave him her full attention. Not even her original reason for coming here - robotic mayhem - could beat talking shop with a handsome doctor.
Scotty was meanwhile taking a pic of the remote with is phone and sending it to his 'don't ask, won't tell because it's none of your business!' girlfriend, via text. If he strains to hear, maybe he can hear a squee. Way off in the distance.SQUEE
"The case of the rubberized bones maybe." McCoy considered. "That was strange, all things considered. Let's see. Lots of weapons left in places you wouldn't ever want to see a weapon. Never knew that you could bleed out so quickly from there but you can."
Faiza grimaced, "Oh that's gruesome! Did they forget the safety?"
Scotty was meanwhile texting to her: Send help. Caught between forensic and doctor with shop talk horror tales. Send whisky!
McCoy just shook his head. "Some of them were actual murders. How the hell somebody comes up with that...People can be so screwed up."
"That's horrid!" She sat back, looking disgusted. It never failed to distress her, the thought of what a human could do to another.
Cass was watching Star Trek while working, transporter malfunction, the whiskey is now beer.
He swiftly texted back: Woe. That's just not the same.
"I think there's something evil in humanity sometimes." McCoy sghed. "Then I see the good and....I'm not entirely sure. It does make you wonder sometimes. Though there're also the just plain strange stories. Had in one who'd swallowed a turtle whole. Little turtle but still."
"Please tell me that wasn't a child.."
"Cooked?" asked Scotty, because it was worth asking. "Or raw?"
She shot him a look.
Scotty shrugged and looked innocent. What?
"College student. Raw." McCoy just sighed. "Initiation or some kind of insane thing. Sometimes it's better not to ask."
"I thought they just swallowed live goldfish. That was rather daft." So says Scotty, who's finishing off his coffee and shaking his head like tsk tsk, they should stick to goldfish.
"Nutters. Not just daft but nutters!"
"It really was." McCoy admitted. "Fratboys showing off. Hell of way to die but still."
Faiza set her coffee down. She never saw the evil in humanity, she couldn't let herself. That led down a dark path she'd gone down before, after her parents died. She didn't want to go down there again, "There's always good, and hope. In this work you have to hold onto that."
"Better than falling off a railing or the likes," added Scotty very hopefully. See? He's making it better. "Or not, really. But ye have tae admit! At least he'd be known as one of 'um that swallowed the turtle! Now he's historical!"
"Historically stupid," Faiza corrected.
"And they WILL go down in history. " McCoy agreed brightly. "For my part, well, I'm doing the best I can to find the good and make sure it gets out there. Glad I'm able to do something."
Faiza grinned, "I suppose you can bring peace to families?"
"Well that's the goal." McCoy grinned back. "Helping them get justice sometimes too. It's not a happy thought but...probably comforting a little bit."
Scotty didn't want to get corrected or glared at more, so instead, he was texting with flying thumbs to Cassie: They're talking about death by swallowing turtles. Because that's as far as his brain has taken things this morning, and he's damn glad he's an engineer. Less freaky!
"Justice is important, " the other Doctor replied, firmly. There was an almost fierceness to her words. Something personal, and raw.
Gross!
"Oh very much." McCoy agreed. "Seeing that people at least pay for what they've done, It doesn't bring a victim back but all the same. It's only right they pay."
I know. And I think I'm out of coffee. He texted, then eyed the pair, warily. After all, he had to sling coffee at everyone, earlier. Before the place got smoked out.
"I've the feeling we're leaving Scotty out. Sorry duck!" She waved Scotty back over, "Why don't we get down to some..." And here, her voice took on a soft purr, "Robotic mayhem."
And here's where McCoy didn't know much but he was willing to learn and would try to hold the questions til the end if that helped.
"Nae, not left out. I had muuuh phone!" He gave it a little hug, like it was pretty splendid and stuff, he really likes his phone. Until he forgets himself and throws it and busts the thing, as per the norm, then he will complain about it. "I've just sent a pic tae the programmer, of the remote. I'm sure she'll be eager tae get it all set up, then ye can give it a test run."
Thumbs up, from Scotty!
Faiza looked at the clock, and made a face, "Bugger. I can't stay around all that much longer to wait for her."
"Should be done soon. I can text ye after she's finished up, if ye'd like," he offered.
She shook her head, "I have to get to work soon, I can't really stay much longer."
"Well, by soon, I'd meant, maybe tomorrow evening. Or the likes. That's being overly generous, it might not take her that long tae program it, either," he was thinking outloud. "Not that I'd want tae have her in a rush."
"I can make the time!" She nearly jumped to her feet in excitement!
"Okie dokey, then. I'll send ye a text!"
Faiza held her hand out to McCoy, "It was nice to meet you, Leo."
"Nice to meet you too." McCoy held her hand a moment too long maybe, before letting go and then dipping his head a little. "So, here's hoping I see you again soon."
Up went Scotty's eyebrows in that classic 'o rly!' sort of way.
"I think I'd like that." Was it suddenly hot in here? Faiza wished she could sink into her headscarf a little, reaching up and fidgetting slightly with it.
"Well, me too." It was a bit warm, definitely. Funny, that.
Nope, Scotty would say it was not hot. He's kind of looking like he's watching a tennis match between them both, purely a spectator. This was weird and awkward and kinda strangely brilliant at the same time.
"I should..with the leaving.." She gestured at the stairs, "I have.....apleasuremeetingyou!" And with that she fled down the stairs, and out to her Porsche, which started with a purr and a vibration that left her..well turning the AC on high.
Scotty just leaned so he could peek around the corner of the open loft door and watched her flee like her knickers were on fire.
"Nicely done," he said to McCoy with a wide smile.
It was like Kirk, only...you know...with manners.
And no obvious innuendo!Suave!Hey I have manners!Sorry, McCoy wins. As long as no preggers ladies slap him during exams. Tho she was asking for it.
"Why thank you." McCoy beamed at Scotty. "Always nice to make new...friends." Sure.
The Porsche burned rubber down the road!
"Like watching a bird flapping an' trying tae take flight," he was saying with a nod and a smile, jabbing his thumb back in the direction that Faiza had used as an escape route. Now with the sound effect of burning tires! Awesome. He smiled. Harder.
"Have tae be aff as well, dae ye?" Scotty asked, heading off toward his precious scotch and taking the bottle out.
It is that 'want one for the road real quick?' thing.
"Pretty soon." McCoy admitted, "But I've got a few more minutes at least, I figure." He would be up for that, definitely.Never turn down booze
Pour, pour. And now he's got a pink coffee cup of fun being held out to him. Bwahahaa! Enjoy, McCoy!Booze? happens!