A/N: I have finals this week, so updates may be few and far between until the 13th at least! But, anyway, enjoy this!

He knows Scotty can keep a secret.

The first time he noticed was in Sickbay one day, when one of the boys in red came in with second degree burns. While McCoy made a couple of passes with the dermal regenerator, the kid had told him everything: the girl he was trying to impress, the elaborate lunch plans, the quesadillas that had over-cooked on the Secondary Particle Pulse Cell, everything.

Scotty had nodded along sympathetically, as if he already knew the whole story. Probably watched it blow up. McCoy didn't say anything, just regenerated the kid's flesh and told him in few words not to do anything like that again. After his patient left, McCoy received a pointed look from the Chief Engineer. It was pretty clear he didn't want the word getting out about this. McCoy'd file the report, sure, but gossip spread on this ship faster than butter on hot bread. The last thing this kid needed, he supposed, is an even worse ending to his day. McCoy agreed. They didn't speak of it again.

Nobody tried to cook anything else in Engineering. Unless you counted Scotty's brewery, but that was one secret that McCoy was very willing to keep.

The next time had been slightly more awkward. It was late and McCoy had just performed three different surgeries, one of them on Jim. He had knocked back his fifth shot of Menkalinan Vodka and fallen onto the floor. The ceiling had been spinning when Scotty walked in. It took the engineer not two seconds to realize what had happened. McCoy vaguely remembered being hoisted by the armpits and dragged over to the office couch. He'd woken up with a towel draped over him like a blanket, a couple of detox hypos on the table by his head, a trash can half-full of vomit on the floor next to him, and the mother of all headaches. Scotty'd never said a word.

He'd returned to work the next morning somewhat sober and aware. All three of his patients pulled through.

The third time, he had been more amused than anything else. Not too many people knew this, but the Captain and the Communications Officer got along a lot better than they appeared to. McCoy knew for a fact that they were pretty close. He was making his weekly crawl through Jeffries Tube 11-7B. Jim and Nyota held 'council' in one of the chamber openings, the one that housed the Modular Resonance Matrix for the eighth deck, which just so happened to share an air vent with said Jeffries Tube. McCoy had just replaced the grate when a noise caught his attention. Somebody else was scuffling around in the vent with him. He turned sharply and cracked skulls with none other than Montgomery Scott.

"Scotty!" He hissed. "What in the name of all that's holy-"

"Hush, McCoy! The show's about ta start!"

The doctor blanked for a moment.

Scotty raised an eyebrow. "That is why you're crawlin' around an air vent at this time o' night, am I wrong?"

McCoy shook his head. "Nope. I'm here for the same reason you are. Probably. I hope."

Scott nodded. "Good. Then ye might wanna keep yer voice down. They're about to arrive."

The two of them scooted the rest of the way to the special grate. From here, they'd have the best view of the action.

"So… You watch this… often?" McCoy posed the question cautiously.

"Aye. Wouldn't miss this for the world. It's some high-class entertainment if ye ask me."

McCoy nodded slowly. "I guess you could say that. Yeah. It's… interesting to say the least."

"True, true. Shush! Ah hear 'em coming!"

The pair huddled down next to the grate and watched as another panel popped off on the other side of the chamber. Jim's head poked out and scanned the room. McCoy held his breath. Seeing no sign that they had company, Jim crawled out and beckoned for Uhura to follow. The first thing McCoy saw was the big pink bag.

"Is that…"

"Aye. And Ah think she's got some new stuff in there this week."

"Oh… Oh boy."

Jim ducked back in the vent. He returned with a big, fuzzy, and glaringly pink blanket that he spread across the ground.

"You ready for this?" He asked.

"Are you sure, Jim? I mean, how long will this take?"

Jim made a face. "Oh come on. I've done this a million times." Nyota snorted. "No… I meant… I'm an expert. Don't worry about it."

She sighed. "If you say so. And not a word of this to Spock. There's no telling what'll start in that head of his."

Jim smiled. "As long as you don't tell Carol. Now, let me get started."

He sat down on the blanket and patted a spot for Nyota to sit. He pulled off his shoes, then his socks. She grabbed the pink bag and then sat down in front of him.

"What color do you want your nails?"

McCoy and Scotty looked on as Nyota passed bottle after bottle of nail polish to Jim. He scrutinized each one before selecting a vivid yellow.

"It matches the shirt." He offered as some sort of explanation.

"Alright. Toes out."

"Ok. Hey, turn around. I need to get started on your hair."

Nyota shifted her position and picked up Jim's left foot. He snorted and tried to suppress a giggle as he portioned out her hair and began the most complex braid McCoy had ever seen.

"So, Eddie Leslie and Lieutenant M'Ress…?"

"I'd give it a week, unless poor Ed gets his act together. M'Ress was talking to me over lunch. Says Leslie doesn't have a romantic bone in his body. Awkward too, if I caught her meaning right. Caitian relational syntax is pretty new to me. M'Ress has been helping me a lot."

"Mhmm. Hey, turn your head a bit to the right. I lost a piece."

"Oh. Sure thing."

They gossiped. They swapped Academy stories. They debated Spock's greatest Vulcan reaction of the week. At one point, McCoy was passed a bag of popcorn. He didn't refuse.

Yes, Scotty had better be very good at keeping secrets. Otherwise, they might find themselves on the wrong side of an airlock one of these days.

A/N: So, so very fun to write. I'm being overrun by prompts and I LOVE IT!

Enjoy your week, gang. Have a good one.