Author's Note: I don't own Star Trek, Gilligan's Island, or Obama and Romney. Please comment if anything is spelled wrong or referenced wrong.
Montgomery Scott had realized he didn't do well with blood and hospitals long ago. So once the meeting was over, he got the hell out of there. He was worried about Christine- they were friends, after all- but knew that his vomiting and squeamishness wouldn't be of any help to McCoy. He could deal with it on most missions, but if it was up to him, he'd like to avoid the operating room all together- both as a patient and as a doctor/nurse.
He continued to pace, like he did aboard the Enterprise. Finally, he looked up and, seeing he was at the top of a cliff, stopped and sat down, looking out at the view. It was getting closer to dusk- the sun was beginning to set. It looked like a hill he used to visit when he was a boy. Of course, the Scottish highlands looked nothing like this tropical landscape- too many palms and not enough heather- but with a bottle of scotch and a pretty girl, it would be pretty close.
He turned, hearing footsteps behind him. It was one of those girls that had come with Romney. He smiled to himself- well, now all he needed was the bottle of whiskey.
About to ask her to sit down, Scotty was interrupted by a series of loud panting noises, followed by a string of swears.
"Leah! Get back here and carry this water canister. FASTER! And then you'll sit down while I'll- Oh, hello Mr. Spock. Look at how lazy this girl is, I mean if she belonged to you, wouldn't you just want-"
Scotty's mind raced- did he just say she belonged to him? DID HE JES' CALL ME MR. SPOCK?
"Mr. Scott."
Romney gave him a confused look, "What?"
"Ye called me Mr. Spock, sir. I'm Scott. Montgomery Scott."
"Well, golly Mr. Scott, I am sorry. Can I join you- LEAH, GET OVER HERE AND BRING THE WATER CANISTER! I'm sorry Mr. Scott, it's just that when I'm tired, I'm crabby- LEAH WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU?"
The poor girl, thought Scotty. He looked up, only to see her struggling with a large, plastic bottle.
"Here, lassie, let m' help ye with that," he said, taking the bottle from her, "Thas' a bit too big of a load for anybody to carry."
She opened her mouth, as if about to thank him, but Mr. Romney was on his feet, right behind her.
"I'm sorry that you had to do that Mr. Scotty. Leah, gosh darn it! What took you so long, you lazy...never mind. Just sit down and-"
"Mr. Romney, it really wasn't anything. It's jes' that th' bottle was to-"
"Quiet Mr. Scott. Now, you know what I'd love, eh Leah? I'd love a nice, long, hard- "
"Mr. Romney, should I leave," asked Scotty, quickly turning around. To his dismay, he got no reply, only a few grunting noises. Scotty took that as his cue to turn and run. He sure didn't need to see (or hear) any of that.
Boy that Romney fella was rude, thought Scotty as he began to head back to the camp. I have a right mind t' go back an' give 'im a piece of my mind!
Lucky for Romney, he didn't plan on it.
Until he heard a high-pitched scream coming back from the direction of the cliff. Then a few muddled words, and another scream.
He turned, running back. Poor girl!
But when he made it back, it was a strange sight that met his eyes. A shoeless Romney was running towards Leah, one leather shoe in his hand, yelling "Find it or else."
Leah was on the ground, frantically searching for something (perhaps the other shoe?), and trying to avoid Romney's yelling. Finally, Romney launched the shoe into the air. It sailed for a few seconds before hitting Leah square in the cheek.
This was too much for Scotty. He ran over to her, bending down next to her, where he found not one but two shoes.
Leah's had a small cut on her cheek, where the shoe had drawn blood. Scotty quickly reached into his pocket, pulling out a slightly soiled handkerchief.
"Here lass. Use this to blot th' blood."
She nodded. "Thanks."
"Sure. An' don'cha worry, lassie. I'll take care o' this," promised Scotty, picking up the pair of shoes.
This won a small smile from Leah as Scotty picked up the shoes, marching over to Romney.
"Mr. Romney, wha' merits this behavior from ye?"
Romney looked ashamed, "Golly, I didn't mean to hit her in the cheek. I was more aiming for the shoulders or the-"
Scotty glared at him in disbelief, "Well, ye shouldn't have hit her at all! After what ye've already done to her, I mean-"
"Really, Mr. Scott, let's not jump to conclusions. There's no need to get angry- although that's what all drunkards do. Hmm. All I wanted was a simple foot massage. A nice, long, hard foot massage. And I was ready to ask you to join me, but you left. Tsk, tsk, how rude. And how do you repay me? You tell me how to live my life!"
Scotty blushed. So that's what was going on, not-
"And I have every right to yell at Leah. I EMPLOY her, it's my job to yell at her. And, in trying to get my shoes off, she misplaced one. That is just unacceptable. My shoes are Armani leather and they don't come cheap, let me tell you that! She should be used to my ways by now."
"Ye mean t' tell me tha' this is how ye treat her normally? That's jes' wrong. Ye should treat her like a lady!"
"Lady, HA! Really, Mr. Scott, I didn't know you were into what we call "ye old chivalry." And let me tell you that even the kindest knight would have a fit if his mistress took 15 MINUTES to find a damn pair of slippers. And if you want to tell me what to do, which, let me tell you, is NOT tolerated, you can just leave! There! That's your punishment, you don't get to enjoy my company any longer!"
Scotty didn't need convincing- he turned and began to walk away, muttering about drunkards and Romney when, speak of the devil, he heard Romney's shouting coming closer once again.
"You know what? You deserve worse than that! Don't think I didn't hear your Romney's the one acting drunk comment, because I sure did! So instead you can sit down next to Leah and take my left foot."
Scotty stared at him with a look of confusion on his face. "Mr. Romney, I'm not sure I understand."
Romney rolled his eyes. "Well, you're obviously going to assist Leah in giving me a foot massage. It doesn't take a genius to figure that one out. And you call yourself an engineer, well!"
Scotty didn't respond to that one. It was probably better to keep his opinion inside when in front of Romney. Who knew what other odd jobs he might have?
With a shudder, Scotty sat down next to Leah and, with clear look of disgust on his face, took Romney's foot in his hands.
His sock was an ugly grayish green color, and smelled worse than Kirk's "home cooked" meals (which was saying something).
Looking at Leah, he began to gingerly rub Romney's heel.
"Not like that, you imbecile! You have to take off the sock first! It's like you've never given a foot massage before!"
"Well, sir, I haven't-"
"Never mind. Just take the damn sock off and start rubbing and-"
Scotty didn't hear the rest. He was too disgusted by the rancid smell wafting off Romney's foot. It had gotten at least 4 times worse without the sock, which laid in a soaking heap off to the side.
He looked over at Leah, who was rubbing the ball and heel of Romney's foot and, to Scotty's dismay, was occasionally rubbing his toes as well.
One look at Romney's displeased face and Scotty began to do the same. While doing so, he made a silent promise to never complain about helping Dr. McCoy with his patients, because this was much, much worse.
When I get back, I'm going straight to my quarters and opening a fresh bottle of whiskey, reserved for traumatic experiences. Like this here one!
And then he remembered that they were on an island where the strongest stuff was million-dollar champagne (according to that Mr. Howell). And, since there was no ship, there were no quarters to retreat to.
Scotty wondered if they'd ever make it off this island- neither their phasers nor communicators worked. The tricorder and other medical equipment worked, but that wouldn't help get them off the island
Scotty sighed. The ship was uninhabitable anyway.
An annoyed cough from Romney brought Scotty back to reality.
"Gosh darn it, man! I thought that an engineer with your smarts could follow simple directions, but apparently not. I specifically told you to rub my feet, not my ankles!"
Scotty looked down at where he had been rubbing and quickly moved back to his feet.
And they massaged and rubbed and were yelled at for the next 15 minutes.
The moment Romney grumbled that they could leave, Scotty grabbed Romney's socks, handed them back to him, and took off. He was scared Romney would want a back massage or something next.
He heard a voice call out behind him, but he wan't falling for that trick again. He sped up.
"Wait, wait! Mr. Scott! I just wanted to-"
The speaker never finished her sentence. What came next were a few muffled "ouches" and thumps.
Scotty turned to see Leah collapsed on top a nearby bush. He quickly ran over, helping her up.
"Lassie, are ye okay? That looked like one mighty big spill!"
She nodded, "I think I can walk. That was stupid of me, though. I'm usually not that klutzy."
"Perhaps it's the fact that yer runnin' in them high heels. I dinna even know how you walk in those things, let alone run."
Leah looked down, as if noticing the mile-high shoes for the first time. She smiled, "I guess that would make things a little tricky. I don't know- I guess I've just gotten used to them."
She took a few steps, but tripped again.
"Would it be easier if ye took them off?"
At this, Leah blushed, "I can't exactly do that. Um, it's kind of a long story, but, erm, maybe later..."
Leah began to walk more quickly while Scotty tried to figure out what he'd said. I dinna mean to upset the young lady, he thought, looking down.
When he looked up, Leah was on the ground again, this time holding what seemed like a glittery stick.
"Oh, it's no use! Damn it, I've broken the heel."
Scotty smiled, swallowing a laugh, "Then I guess you'll have t' tell me th' story after all. We've got all day."
Or a year. Or the rest of our lives, thought Scotty, ominously.
Leah agreed, hopping over to a nearby tree stump.
"Fine, Mr. Scott-"
"Aw, lassie, ye can call me Scotty."
"Okay Mr. S-Scotty. But you have to promise me one thing."
"An' what's that, lass?"
"You can't laugh."
"An' why would I do that to such a bonnie lady as yourself?"
At this, a stormy look crossed Leah's face, but disappeared as fast as it had come. "Um, just listen to the story!"
"Fine. I promise. Cross m' heart."
"Alright, I trust you. So, um, I kind of lied when I was getting my job. With Romney. And he said he needed a tall and sexy girl. And, uh, I've got the sexy part down, but I'm kind of struggling with the tall part. So I wear heels and I can't let him see me without them or he'll find out I'm only five-three and not five-nine, like I told him, and if I get fired, I'll-"
She stopped suddenly, catching herself. "Um, bad stuff will happen."
They sat there for a few minutes without speaking.
It was Leah who finally broke the silence, saying that she should leave.
Scotty watched her slowly get up, hopping on one foot.
"Maybe we can fix th' shoe?"
This got her to turn around. "What?"
Scotty smiled, "We can fix it. I'm th' head engineer on the best ship. Fixin' a shoe should b' easy compared to th' Enterprise."
Leah sat down on the grass, murmuring what sounded like a thank you. She took off the shoe, exposing raw and bloody toes.
"I guess I'm the one who really needs a foot massage. I guess that's what I get for hiking in heels."
"After we fix this here shoe, ye can go see Dr. McCoy. I'll be he can fix ye up in-"
"NO!
Giving her a puzzled look, Scotty confusedly shook his head. "Whatever pleases ye, lass."
The same stormy look crossed her face again.
Using a piece of tree stump and some twine made from palm leaves, the shoe was fixed in just under 15 minutes.
"Here, put this on, an' try to walk on it."
Leah put the shoe on and got up, walking perfectly. But Scotty saw that the shoe wasn't the problem- her feet were.
"Leah, I'm sorry, but I canna let ye suffer like that. Come on, les jest go to Dr. McCoy."
"No, no, stop, we can't! Um, Romney wouldn't like that."
"But-"
"Sorry."
Another awkward silence fell upon them as they continued their walk back to camp.
"Why don ye jest leave him?"
Leah turned. "what?"
Scotty sighed- he hadn't meant to upset the young lady. "Why don ye jest get another job? C'mon, even I know that there're better jobs out there besides bein' Romney's who- um, his personal masseuse?"
A sad laugh came from Leah. "Masseuse? That's what you think I am? God, I wish, but it's nothing as easy as that. It' hard- emotionally and physically, what I do, if you know what I mean."
They were approaching camp, and Scotty saw a few of the crew and island members scattered about. Trying to hide his red face, he quickly slowed down.
"Um, I'm sorry to intrude, young lady," he quickly muttered, while turning away, "I'm just surprised that a man runnin' for the head of th' law would break it so blatantly."
A few moments of silence passed and, just as Scotty thought she was gone, he heard an astonished gasp from behind.
"You think I'm a hooker, don't you?"
Sheepishly, Scotty turned around, "No no no, lass, I jest though-"
"Yeah, that's what you thought! That's not what I meant by physical and emotional! And you know what? I bet all of this "lets help Leah and be so nice to her" is just a ruse so you'll get a discount price! And-"
She was yelling by now, and, just to Scotty's luck, Kirk, McCoy, the Professor, and Mr. Obama were all sitting around at the table. They began to look up as Leah continued her rant.
"I can't believe it! You know what? I thought you were really chivalrous and nice, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, I'd met a man who wasn't a stupid dog! But no! All men are the same- they just look at the outside and make stupid assumptions!"
Now she was starting to cry. Scotty reached out to comfort her, but her hand flew out, punching him in the stomach.
"Just because I dress like this doesn't make me a hooker! Hello, it's what Romney tells me to wear!"
She looked up, as if noticing the audience for the first time.
"What're you looking at? Huh? HUH?"
With that, she ran (or hobbled, actually) over to the hut, disappearing behind it.
Scotty was still doubled over, trying to figure out what had happened.
Kirk and McCoy came over to him, and McCoy had an irritating smirk across his face.
"Gee, Jim, I've seen loads of women do that to you, but never seen that happen to Mr. Chivalry over here."
To Scotty's annoyance, Kirk chuckled, "Wish I'd recorded that. What the heck happened?"
Scotty, who was still trying to catch his breath, beckoned the two over to the nearby bench, where he quickly sat down.
"I canna really figure it out. I was jest tryin' to find some peace an' quiet, but I came across Mr. Romney. Captain, I know ye told us to treat everyone with kindness an' I try to abide by that an' not cause trouble. I've learned my lesson after dealin' with the Klingons that one time."
Kirk sighed, "I knew that Romney would cause trouble. He's, well, let's just say that I don't want to cross his path any time soon."
"Yes, sir. An' he was treatin' Leah like, well, like a slave! I tried helpin' but I ended up jest leavin' but I came back in the end an' Mr. Romney dinna like that I stood up for her. I ended up massagin' his feet as punishment! An' I helped her get down the mountain in those heels an-"
McCoy held up a hand, "Did you just say you massaged his FEET?"
"Yes, Doctor, an'-"
"Well of all cruel and unusual punishments...His feet, Jim, his FEET! Boy, those must've stank like-"
"I know, Bones, I get it. But why'd she slap you?"
"Well, after I helped her, I asked why she dinna quit her job with Mr. Romney- her job as a masseuse, that is. But she said that she wasn't a masseuse, an' that her job was "hard emotionally an' physically" And I thought that maybe she was a, um, a, um-"
"We know- Bones, no comments- continue."
"She somehow knew what I was thinkin' and started yellin' at me for being a stupid dog. An' I dinna mean to make her mad- I dinna even say what I was thinking. I feel like such a bad person! I canna even believe that I upset her like that!"
Kirk put his hand on Scotty's shoulder, "I bet she'll get over it. I mean, knowing you, you didn't mean to offend her."
McCoy placed his hand on Scotty's other shoulder, "Yeah. Jim's said way worse to women, but in the end they always end up-"
"Bones, what did I say about commenting?"
"Jim, I've had a long day. You know, with operating on my nurse and friend. Also watching her almost die."
Kirk rolled his eyes. He and Scotty both knew that he would've made his comments no matter what was going on. "Scotty, I'm sure it'll just blow over. But, and I'm just saying, she's a good-looking-"
"She doesn't like it when I call her lassie."
"Maybe she's not the one after all. Forget I said anything."
"I canna figure out why. Maybe she thinks I'm teasin' her?"
McCoy sighed, "Most normal women like a bit of teasing. Come on, let's go find something to eat."
And with that, the trio walked back into the jungle.