"Did she cheat on you?"
Who: Varric, Scotty, Kirk What: Well. Someone's not upset at all, are they? When: Yesterdayish! Where: Mad Monty's. Where the Mad part doesn't just stand for 'insane' but also 'actual anger.' Rating: PG13, typical language warning, nothing else. Status: Complete
Varric strode into Mad Monty's, expecting to see a dodge ram covered in panties and other assorted clothing. Instead, he found several boxes, and no dodge ram.
Don't forget the disassembled bed that was there. All of which, by some miracle, hadn't been kicked, thrown, or shoved out of the door to the curb, where it could sit there with a sign that says 'For Free' on it.
The place was not exactly open, either. That closed sign had remained closed, and there was some clunking around inside the makeshift spaceship going on, which was a huge clue that the engineer was in.
"That's not a good sign," Mused captain obvious Varric. He walked over to the makeshift spaceship and knocked.
"Get bent!" came the instantaneous and profoundly volatile response, without even checking to see who it was. "Closed!"
Thereafter rang out the sound of metal being pounded on. From the ringing clang, it was likely the result of a wrench meeting some part of the interior with the obvious intent to take out some frustrations.
"Even for me, Tinker?" Varric climbed up a ladder on the sub and then peered in.
The sort of look that Scotty gave Varric could have melted the paint off a starship and instantaneously dried up the oceans of several planets, turning it into steaming vapor. That would probably mean yes, even for him.
That done, he turned back to a tank and gave a metal band around it one last whap with the wrench. He began working like it had better comply with where he was trying to bolt it in place. For he was its lord and master, and he was ruling with an iron fist right now.
Someone's not bitter or angry, at all. Noooooope.
Except yes, someone is. Very much so.
Damn. This was serious. Varric shifted into a cross legged position to watch Scotty work while he tried to figure out the best approach to this situation. Things had seemed to happy yesterday. To have Gaila's stuff shoved downstairs like it was waiting for a dumpster? Had she cheated on him? Which was uncharitable of him but still a thought.
Unfortunately, it wasn't really something he could go blurting out to Varric, and he knew as much. He couldn’t exactly come out and say, 'Hey, my ex was a green alien from another planet and she had a flip out all over my face about it because I knew something strange was up that she wasn't saying and hey she threw that ring in my face too, so fun times were had by all!'
Scotty couldn't imagine that would go over well, and he was still trying as much as he could to stick to not screwing too much with the current timeline by shooting his mouth off, or building a transporter or a photon torpedo. Both of those things he could build and operate, if he had the power sources and supplies for it. At any rate, he was very tight lipped as he got the supports in for the tank, giving it a nudge to test if it was holding fast and then carelessly throwing the wrench over his shoulder so it landed behind him on the flooring.
"I know big strong Scotsmen don't like to talk about it, but if you wanted to pretend you were ranting at the dog or the machine and I happen to overhear, well that doesn't count."
Very slowly, Scotty's head turned again, and it was much like watching The Exorcist during the head spinning scene. Luckily, his head stopped moving at a point that was normal for humans, ruling out demonic possession. But that glare he had could have incinerated kittens, puppies, and probably human baby type things. It was the 'can not say' stare.
"No offense, laddie," he finally said very, very slowly, in a very, very low voice, "but I'm nae in the mood tae talk about it."
Varric clucked his tongue, "And here I was, with a brand new bottle of liquor from northern Scotland. I guess I'll have to drink it all by myself."
"Looks like ye'll have tae."
He couldn't talk about it. Regulations kind of frowned down it. There was also that little thing known as the Temporal Prime Directive, and in particular, the temporal displacement policy. The same things he hinted to Kitty about as part of a game, of which, she was able to find on her own. So it wasn’t like he was openly giving away anything, per se? He was simply clever enough to figure that it already existed, and circumvent things without actually saying it. He wasn’t feeling too profoundly clever at the moment. However, he was still trying valiantly to not interfere, even in this sort of situation. And he knew that liquor would just be an invitation to blubbering, so he was resisting the temptation while in the company of people who wouldn't understand what an Orion was, unless he went into detail. That was one particular cat he wasn't about to let out of the proverbial bag. Containment was good.
"Nae good company now. Ye might want tae vacate, before I start slicin' things in half." There. That was fair enough warning. Because it could happen. He'd already thought about it.
"Scotty." Varric used his real name. This was serious, business, "Don't bottle this up. There must be something we can do."
It was quiet for a long moment, before the wrench was kicked around the inside of the sub, and Scotty drew in a long breath, to speak as calmly as he was capable of. It didn't sound all that calm, really, but it was the best he could manage, under present circumstances.
"Ye can get out of me damn way for starters, so I can start on the programming, meself. Cheers."
It would probably take methods of actual torture to get him to talk. Methods such as the pulling of teeth without local anesthetic, or being electrocuted by a car battery with jumper cables attached to his ears. He wasn’t divulging any information. About any of it.
He scooted off the sub, landing on his feet and brushing his pants, "I can call someone, if you like."
"Nuh uh. Not necessary." He climbed out and went to fetch everything he needed to drag inside, to get started with what little remained to be done. "Ye want tae do me a favor? Take her shite an' put it in some storage, before I shove it in the back alley. That'd be a huge help. I'm tired of lookin' at it."
He gave Varric a tense smile and started to head back into the sub again.
"Did she cheat on you?"
"Dunno, an' she wouldnae say even if she did, I'd bet! Does it matter now? Nuh uh. I'll be back tae normal again at some point. Dinnae worry about me. Used to it. Ha!" And into the sub he disappeared.
Varric folded his arms, staring at the sub for a bit. This was a problem. He'd take care of Gaila's things, but he was more concerned for his friend. He knew Scotty well enough that there was genuine concern for his mental safety. The man wouldn't budge, or talk. And if he wouldn't drink, he wouldn't be able to get him to talk.
Varric tried to not feel hurt.
Nope, he was not budging, or talking. He had clammed up, and was throwing himself wholeheartedly into his work. It was really the only dangerous thing he would do, working until he had to pass out and get some sleep. He hadn't even drank that much over the course of the evening, because it didn't help, and to him, scotch was something to be enjoyed and relished, not something you specifically drank to drown your sorrows. Not on a regular basis, at least. There were also things that could get him there faster and harder than sucking down whisky, such as alcohol that could possible double as rocket fuel. He'd simply build a still for that, if he so desired, and create something truly flammable to drink.
Ultimately, it wasn't that he didn't want to say something reassuring to his short and hairy buddy, but it was that he couldn't say it.
"I'll be fine. Yer hovering. I can tell. Get aff! Go home! This too shall pass," he called out, because he knew Varric would linger and because he didn't want him to worry too much on his account. He was in the angry and bitter side of the spectrum anyway, with a side dish of steaming hot hurt to accompany that char broiled metaphorical meal.
With a sigh, Varric headed out, calling to have someone get the woman's things. He called Gaila, too, but her phone went straight to voicemail.
A few minutes later, Scotty's phone rang.
He considered letting it ring and go to voicemail. In fact, he went past considering and simply let it go do that.
Jim looked at his phone, then tried again.
"...the hell," Scotty said, grabbing his phone with the intent to shut the thing off entirely. He eyed the number and Kirk's name on it, and he could at least tell Kirk that he was going to be awol for a while. After all, Kirk was still the commanding officer and that Janice girl had pointed out they still had to pay attention to some sort of chain of command, even if they realized they were officers and were in a different timeline. So it was with that in mind, that he answered the phone with a 'friendly' sounding, "What the fuck dae ye want, Kirk?"
So it wasn't exactly 'aye, captain?' or anything. So what?
Jim snapped into the phone, his patience thin, "Varric just called, what the hell happened, Scotty?!"
Scotty's entire face made a very sharply pinched expression. It was not like he'd merely sucked on a sour lemon. More like someone smashed the lemon onto his face and used his nose like a juicer.
He had the sensibility to exit the sub and stomp around, making sure the coast was clear. It appeared to be vacant, luckily enough. He looked around one last time before clutching the phone in his hands and growling into it, "Ye got a green alien from planet insane runnin' around on this planet, now. Enjoy. Because I swear, I said one bloody thing wrong, an’ it turned intae her throwin' her ring aff. I'd had it by that point.
"She's nae sayin' something. I dinnae know what it is? But I swear, there was no reason for her tae acting that way over something I do all the time, like blabber on what I'm thinkin' while I'm thinkin' it. Which she never had a problem with before, so fancy that," he finished, angrily, wanting to throw the phone.
"What?" Kirk blinked, "You guys broke up over what? She's a woman, Scotty. You have to have learned by now that you never, ever force an issue. You let them come to YOU with it."
"Kiss me arse, I do what I want. If she cannae put up with the way I was when she met me up until now? Then that's hardly me own problem. She's the one who flew aff the handle first mind you, an' flung the ring in me face. I tried tae be understandin' with her and be honest, an' tell her....things that I'm nae tellin' you. All of a sudden, it was like watchin' a pit bull on the attack, basically foamin' at the mouth? I'm through. Done. She didnae want a thing tae do with me then, or afterward, so I hope she has a nice life. I'm nae a part of it. Are ye done now, or do I get another lecture? Because I am tryin' tae finish this...."
Scotty wildly gestured with one hand toward the ship. It was at least 95% complete, minus the fuel source and the programming.
"...which I've pretty much single-handedly pulled out of me bum. Cheers for the supplies though? But I'm goin' tae go finish it now. And I’ll try nae tae slice it intae pieces afterward, if I get a bug up me arse about regulations. Goodbye. Cap'n."
And that? Is where Scotty hung up his phone.
And maybe began kicking things.
Except not so much with the maybe, because it's precisely what he did.
Jim stared at his phone, then sighed. Time to try to find Gaila, it looked like!
If he'd been asked, Scotty would say not to bother. To him, it's not like she wanted to be with him or could even stand being with him, after all that was said and done that evening. So he's digging into the programming and hoping he can remember every tidbit of dealing with navigation, control systems, and life support adjustments. Heh! Of course he can. He's the chief engineer! He knew that stuff like he knew the back of his hand.
If Gaila knew she'd been described as foaming at the mouth? She definitely wouldn't come back!
Wasn't she the same one who called him a bulldog? Ker~yeah. That's a two way street there, babe. Along with the ring throwing, it was pretty much the straw that broke the camel's back. She'd already called him 'clingy' and told him he wasn't her priest, both times when she lost her temper, before. He does not forget that stuff. Especially when he wasn't either of those things to begin with, and even after he further compensated to accommodate her and give her even more space than before. And then she finds new things to call him? So, yeah.
Kicking things more now! And deep breath. Done. Back to programming. Indeed.
Gaila was going to join a CONVENT. Take THAT!
Trololol. He doesn't know what you're doing. He's doing the programming. Kthanxbai.