John was more than happy to oblige on the condition they could run more tests on the model. Women and experimental engineering pretty much summed up his favorite things in life, if not necessarily in that order.
Monty was not so happy about the whole arrangement.
The best think about being accepted to University at sixteen was feeling superior to the other freshmen; the worst part was feeling overwhelmed by every woman who ever lived. Even two years later, Monty felt like tossed about in a winter North Sea storm. He had no hope in hell of ever being able to get the upper hand, but getting out of the water never crossed his mind.
Competition was one thing he didn't need, though. He spoke to John directly.
"Don't worry; my heart belongs to Anne."
"And the rest of you?" asked Scotty sounding more childish than he had planned.
"Follows meekly behind." John plopped his feet up on the desk and smiled. "I like a pretty face, to be sure, but she is all yours for the taking."
"Just remember: her face is up here." Monty gestured up from his neck, but the tone kept the same unintentional petulance.
John laughed. "Don't worry, me lad. I might well double-cross you over the Hawking Theoretical Physics Fellowship, but a girl, never!"
For the first time in hours Monty relaxed. It was something only engineers could understand.
They day was overcast as usual, and the air was full of the taste of the sea and life. No one else was there when they arrived, and so they fired up the model.
The sealed compartments stayed dry down to seventy meters. They were about to try for eighty when they saw her on the rocks. She was in an off-white dress, windblown with her silver hair loose and whipping about her face. Staring out to sea, she looked like something out of a museum watercolor or the cover or a young girl's romance novel.
Monty had eyes only for her, but John followed her gaze out to the water where waves broke over a covered sandbar. He thought that he saw something. Turtles? Dolphins? He directed his engineering datacorder but it wasn't calibrated for bio and couldn't read at that sensitivity. He snapped a still photo of her instead. She was stunningly beautiful in a way that made him wish that a man could have two girls and keep them both blissfully happy forever. But that would be a fairystory.
She moved easily across the rocks when she turned and saw them. She had an easy smile for both that was a pleasant change from their first meeting.
"Go on about your business boys," she said as she unpacked her painting supplies from her rucksack. "I want to paint you doing manly things like playing with your manly toy."
"It's nae a toy, it's--"
John kicked him.
Monty cleared his throat and started over in a lower tone. "I'd rather make my business staying with you." He pulled the easel the rest of the way out of the rucksack and helped her settle it into a relatively stable spot.
John shook his head and set the remote for eighty meters. At least one of them could get some work done.
"What else have you got in there?" Monty asked. Painting gear removed, the rucksack was still fairly full.
"A change of clothes, just in case your toy runs wild again."
This time Monty held his tongue.
"Well, go on with you. Down to the water."
"Really, I'd rather watch you paint." Monty rocked happily on his toes.
"They'll be nothing to paint if you're up here, will there? Go on and do whatever it is that you were doing and let me start the scene first. I'll tell you when I'm ready for you to come up."
"Come up for what?" asked John.
"To stand and model for me."
"What? Just stand there? Why?"
"Because I say so, Mr. O'Flaughty." Lesa took out a tube of slate gray and started on the rocky shoreline.
"Anything you want, Lesa." Monty kissed her hand.
John thanked the saints that he had better sense in women than Monty did.
The painting was finished without event. Monty thought that John came out significantly better than he did, but Lesa seemed pleased with the result. The submarine tests weren't much better than last time, but at least there weren't any incidents. John begged out of dinner claiming a paper due the next day.
Lesa shot Monty a dirty look. Monty tried his best to look innocent.
But all she said was, "Come on; I'm starving."
"I told you, I can take care of myself."
"I hope you're right, Montgomery Scott, I dearly hope that you are right."
They walked to the same restaurant. He still didn't taste the food, but she ate enough for them both. He was struck by the elegance of every move she made. It gave him a possible thought.
"Do you like to dance?" he asked.
Her eyes lit up. "Love it. I don't get to do it enough."
"There's a dance next Saturday at the University Hall. John will be there--with his girl, if that matters. I thought maybe you might like--"
"I'd love to."
"Ah could pick you up at your place. Say seven? Or earlier and we could eat."
"Seven's fine, but I'll meet you at your place. I have some other things to do that day."
Using the tableside comm, he printed out a copy of his contact info and coordinates to his apartment. "If you need directions--"
"Nope. I'm naturally good at navigation." She tucked the printout into some fold in her clothes or body. "See you then."
It was clearly a cue and he rose just before her. This time she kissed him on the mouth. Now, that he tasted and prayed that he would for a very long time.