Prompt: Kirk, Scotty, Chekov, Gaila - Office chairs
Flexible
″Scotty! I'm glad I've finally caught up to you.″ Jim flagged down the Engineer, who drew to a halt with a wide smile on his face.
″Sorry Cap'n, I've been crawling around in the Jeffries tubes again trying to track down a few wee glitches I'd like to see taken care of afore we leave spacedock. Damned glad to be out of confined spaces for a wee bit.″ Scotty did look a bit worse for wear that usual, his hair – long overdue for a trim – was messy and one tuft even looked singed.
″Sounds like a good plan, Mr. Scott. I hope you don't mind a short interruption; I received your report and would like to talk to you about the changes you proposed to-″
″Ah, to the shield efficiency grid? I was hopin' to go over the plans for that, sir. Step over here into my...″ Scotty trailed off outside the door to his office when it didn't obediently slide open for him. The window was also tinted to the most opaque setting. ″Hmm, that's strange, I didn't do anything that ought to interfere with the mechanisms on this end of the ship.″
Curious about what parts of the ship Scotty might have interfered with, but willing to overlook it while they were still docked, Jim raised an eyebrow. ″So what else might the problem be, Scotty?″
Scotty opened a nearby panel and pressed several buttons without effect. ″Hmm, I've been locked out.″ His face was stormy. ″Locked out of my own bloody office! I'll have someone's head for this prank.″ He continued to mutter as he fiddled with the wiring within the panel. ″If I can't get it dealt with in short order I'll hunt down Gaila and ask her who was last-″
″Umm,″ Jim interrupted, his eyes riveted to the now transparent windows. Though the doorway remained closed, Scotty had apparently managed to fix part of the wiring controlling the window tint, and he'd recognize that hair anywhere. ″I don't think you'll be able to ask her just at the moment, Scotty.″ Jim began to grin.
Scotty looked over at Jim curiously. Jim, merely nodded his head to the office. Scotty turned to look into his office and narrowed his eyes. ″I see. It would appear that I won't be needing to ask her anyways.″ He snorted. ″Well, I have been working my crew rather hard during this refit, but honestly a bit of decorum wouldn't be misplaced.″
″She had the decency to wait until you were supposed to be elsewhere on the ship. And to lock the door against interruptions.″ Jim met Scotty's eyes and grinned, shrugging.
The occupants of the room hadn't yet noticed their audience, far to wrapped up in each other – quite literally, in fact, given how flexible both participants appeared to be – to care.
″Course this means two fewer people actually getting any work done,″ Scotty grumbled. ″And that's my new chair! I haven't even christened the damned thing yet!″
Jim chose to address Scotty's first statement only, banishing the second to the bowels of his brain. ″They are volunteers, after all, given that this is your personal project and not one deemed absolutely necessary by the fleet. Besides, it's only Gaila from your crew.″ Jim pointed to the gold tunic tossed haphazardly across the small room.
″Hmm, I wonder who-″ Scotty's jaw dropped. ″Is that Ensign Chekov?″
Jim jerked his head around and his eyes bugged out.
Ensign Chekov was, it would appear, extremely flexible.