Author's Note: If you have a problem with typed out accents either don't read this piece or don't review it. I firmly condone accent imitation and am uninterested in hearing how it corrodes the quality or readability of the writing.
Thank you
"Would ya rather…" Scotty's doe eyes searched the sick bay ceiling, "Would ya rather be jumped by a Vulcan, a Klingon, or a Romulan?" He looked expectantly down at McCoy, seated at the station by bed four.
"Sheesh… a Romulan I guess… got less of a rep with 'em."
Scotty swung his feet over the edge of the cot he was using as a chair.
"Now, would you rather…lose your hair, all your money, or all your drinks?"
"Oooh…" Scotty put a hand to his forehead, "…mah hair. Since I'm gonna someday. Certainly not mah drinks."
McCoy laughed silently.
"Hmm…" Scotty propped his head up on a fist. "Would ya rather wake up after being drugged an' find out ya killed the captain… had a… sex change… or married Mr. Spock?"
"Jesus, not that last one!"
The engineer rolled his eyes at the doctor's apparent earnesty.
The doctor bit his lip and guiltily answered, "Killed the captain. Well-" Scotty gasped audibly, laughing a bit in spite of himself, "well," Bones continued, "no, I keep my answer."
"Oh, doctor," the Scotsman shook his head in humored disbelief as McCoy contorted his face in contemplation.
"Let's see," he put a hand on Scotty's knee. "Would you rather… read a technical magazine…" he held up his forefinger, "get a few drinks," he held up his middle finger, "or," Scotty grinned in anticipation, "turn the lights off and get to my quarters."
"Now, that one's easy, doctor." The engineer planted a kiss on his forehead, enfolding the hand on his lap. "Though I could go for a bit of tha' second one as well," he added as he helped the doctor out of his seat.
McCoy swung their clasped hands as he led them to the hall door. "Honey, I don't think we've gone to my room once and not had at least a shot."
Scotty nodded judiciously. "But if I have to rather, ya know I'd rather have you."