Something Sweet

by: darke wulf

Disclaimer: Unless you don't recognize them, I don't own them. No money or other profits are being made from this attempt at entertainment.

This story was written for amycoolz for her comments on my Operation: Annihilate remix story.

"Are ye sure ye're wanting to do this, lassie? None o' us'll blame ye if ye change yer mind…"

"Shut up and pour, Scotty."

"Come now. I understand that ye're hurting, but this is nae the way ta mourn."

"Scotty, my boyfriend just went into heat, didn't tell me, beamed down to the Vulcan colony intent on taking a Vulcan female for his mate – again without telling me might I add – and wound up in a marriage bond with the Captain. A permanent marriage bond, as there are no surviving Vulcans currently skilled enough to break said bond. And now the two of them are off doing things I'd rather not contemplate. I'll mourn any damn way I like. Now pour. The. Scotch."

"Aye, lassie."

So saying, Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott filled the glasses around the table, sharing wary looks with Hikaru Sulu, Pavel Chekov and Leonard McCoy. It was their weekly drinking night, started not long after the beginning of the five-year mission. Scotty, McCoy and Chekov had gotten together due to their mutual love of alcohol. Sulu joined up several months later. While he claimed to share their interests, McCoy and Scotty were of the opinion that his true passions lay more in the area of navigation and Russia than alcohol.

The tradition had been going for nearly a full year. Occasionally the Captain would join them, but for the most part it continued to be just the four of them at a table tucked into the corner of officers' mess.

A routine that had been violently disrupted this night. Nyota had stormed into the room and headed directly towards their table, boot heels clicking violently on the metal deck as her hair swung behind her in its standard ponytail. She made quite the fearsome image, bearing down on them like an Amazonian queen seeking battle.

Or alcohol, apparently. She had grabbed Chekov's glass, filled with vodka from the stash he had smuggled on board when they departed Earth, and swallowed it down without flinching. Slamming the glass onto the table, she had turned to the Scotsman, the only one at the table with the misfortune of having his bottle visible, and demanded a refill.

Chekov had taken advantage of her awareness being focus on Scotty to quietly shift his chair farther from the irate communications officer – moving as close to Sulu as physically possible. A state of affairs that the pilot obviously didn't mind at all.

"It wasn't Jim's fault, you know," McCoy spoke up. He was reluctant to forgive Uhura for the obvious disdain with which she had held his friend for the first several months of the mission, and was not going to let her use this as an excuse to go back to harping on the man.

"Neither one of us had any idea what was going on the whole damn time we were down on that hell-hole. One minute Spock's supposedly set to get hitched to that T'Pig bitch, then she's insisting Spock and Jim fight to the death so she can take off with her true love. Next thing we know, the older Vulcan bitch does some sort of mind-voodoo, declares Jim and the hobgoblin 'tra-la' or whatever, and instead of making them fight bonds them then and there."

"I'm aware that the Captain had little say in this matter, Doctor. I've read the report. And if you think…"

"Here now. None o' that. We're here for a good time. Ifn the two a ye want to stand around arguing, I'll thank you tae do it somewhere else."

Nyota turned to regard Scotty, fathomless dark eyes keeping their secrets to themselves. The Scott did his best not to blush under the attention. It was no secret that Nyota was a beautiful woman. What was a secret was just how aware of that fact Montgomery Scott happened to be. He had been admiring the spirited young woman from afar from the moment he had set eyes on her. But she had been already involved, and so he kept his regard for her to himself.

Not that he would have likely said anything, even if she had been single. When it came to women, other than his beloved Enterprise of course, he tended to become flustered and trip over his own tongue.

"My apologies, Scotty," Nyota eventually said, a small, mysterious smile on her face. "By all means, let's continue."

"Easy there, Nyota," Scotty cautioned as he helped Nyota down the corridor towards her quarters. He had one arm around her tiny waist while her right arm was slung over his shoulders.

"I jush don get it, Shotty," Nyota slurred as she weaved down the hall. She'd managed to put down Sulu and Chekov with little problem, but McCoy and Scotty himself were hardened drinkers with years of experience – there had never been much chance of her outlasting either of them.

"Wha's wrong with me? Wha's Kirk got that I… don't?"

"There's nary a thing wrong with ye. The Captain and Mister Spock, they were just meant for each other. It says nothing ill o' ye."

"If tha's true, then why won't Spock even talk t' me anymore? 'Less it's 'bout work, he jusht ignores me completely…"

Making a mental note to… talk… to Spock as soon as possible, Scotty replied, "Ya ken how Mister Spock can be. Emotions make him nervous. An' when he's nervous, he tends to close in on himself. It's nothing ta do with you, Nyota."

Finally they came to Nyota's quarters. She sadly stared at the door, not moving to open it. One more night alone, with an empty bed and bleeding heart.

She snorted at herself in disgust when she realized what she had just thought. She knew it was the alcohol talking for the most part, but that didn't make it any less embarrassing. She was stronger than that, dammit! She was not going to let this get her down. She was a better officer – a better person than that.

Still, she considered as she slanted a considering look toward the Scott beside her from under her lashed, there was no reason that she had to spend the night on her own. She would be fine tomorrow, but surely it would be alright… just for the night… to allow herself some basic human comfort…

Leaning into Scotty's body, she tilted her head and murmured into his ear, "Don't 'pose you'd want to come in fer a night cap?"

She was startled by the look of pained resignation that shadowed the other's features after her inquiry.

Scotty took a deep breath, firming his resolve – which knowing she was drunk wasn't as hard as he had anticipated – before replying. "Nae, lassie. As temptin' as tha offer may be, I'll not be serving as yer rebound."

"I knew it! There is somethin' wrong w' me."

"Ah, Nyota," Scotty sighed, looking deep into Nyota's eyes. Slowly, ever so carefully, h brought up his right hand and gently ran his fingers along her high cheek. "Ye canna be farther from the truth."

Nyota's eye went wide. She looked in disbelief at the hand that now softly cupped her face, bringing one of her own hands up to touch it, to prove that it was real.

"S…Scotty?"

"I've waited for ye this long, lassie. A little more time will na hurt me. When ye're ready, ye know where ta find me. Tha' is, if ye think ye'd be interested. O' course, I'd be hopin' that ye woul' na be under the influence tha next time. Assumin' o' course there is a next time. I'd understand if ye aren't interested in a simple engineer such as meself. Though I'd like ta think tha…"

"Scotty."

"Ah, yes?"

"Shut up 'n kiss me."

"But, I woul' na want ta take advantage…"

"Hmph. 'M not that drunk. And it's just a kiss. Consider it… a test of the waters."

"Well… if you insist. But just a kiss! I do na want ta pressure you…"

Laughing, Nyota grabbed the engineer by the back of his neck, wrapping both hands around and up into his hair. Pulling him closer, she pressed a closed-mouth kiss to his forehead, then another to his lips.

Pulling slightly pack, she rested her forehead against his, letting out a satisfied sigh as her mouth curled into a smile brimming with contentment.

Grinning eyes looked into Scotty's as Nyota reached her hand back and opened the door to her quarters, never breaking eye contact. "Good night, Scotty."

"Well now, ye know, I can do better than tha… I woul' na want to leave ye with an inaccurate sample o' my skills…"

Nyota spun around and entered her room, closing the door behind her. "Good night, Scotty," she repeated, radiating amusement.

"Aye, good night, lass," Scotty sighed. The moment Nyota's door was closed, however, a huge smile nearly split his face.

"Yes!" he cried, punching a fist into the air. Turning, he made his way to his own quarters, a bounce in his step. Before he had even gone ten steps he leapt into the air once more, snapping his feet together, his heart filled with hopes for the future.