2.

Eventually Scotty found himself giving up on the idea of finding his foot masseuse. For one thing, he had entirely too much work to do and he was also becoming tired and bored with searching for her. He knew eventually he would figure out who "She" was. There was simply too much talk on board a ship as small as the Churchill and although he kept the incident to himself, sooner or later someone would say something and he would hear about it.

But sure enough, sooner rather than later, one afternoon while working on a bank of grow lights in the botany lab, the issue of feminine hands reared its annoying head once more.

Scotty had just finished installing the grow lights above a new work table for his friend Ensign Heather Weiss when his stomach tightened in an audible grrrrr. He glanced down to see if she heard the sound but she had her back to him at one of her potting benches and didn't seem to notice. He jumped down from the table and picked up his tools, stashing them away in their case.

As he approached her at the bench, he decided to ask her if she would go to dinner with him in the mess hall.

"Is food all you ever think about?" She said giving him a sideways glance.

"Aye, I am a growing lad with a healthy appetite after all," he replied grinning and patting his belly.

"More like an over-grown lad," she smiled back.

"You know me well, lass" he said.

And as soon as he said it, something occurred to him. Heather. He had known the girl since the first day they came aboard the ship. Both of them newest of the lowest ranking officers, ready to set the galaxy on fire. She with her skills as a Starfleet botanist and he as an engineer. Neither of them quite fitting in with the enlisted crew nor fitting in with their higher ranking officers, they both stuck together in their first few weeks aboard Churchill.

They ate together, went to orientation together and in-processed together until they ended up meeting other people and settling into their work. They were still friendly to each other, just too busy with other things to spend the time together as they had when they were new to the ship. But it never dawned on him that Heather could be the "She" he was looking for. Even as he skimmed over her name on the manifest he never thought she could be her.

He thought he knew her and yet he had indeed chosen not to pursue her. Was that what she was trying to tell him? "You know me well, yet you chose not to know me at all."

Then Heather laughed at the expression he must have had on his face while he was lost in thought. When he heard the bubbly sound that rang in her voice, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He had the sudden urge to pull off her gloves and check her hands for freckles. But after the episode with Ensign Spears he decided he needed to be a little more subtle.

Heather sighed and looked at the Taurian Lavender she had just re-potted and said, "I guess I could eat right about now. Just give me a minute to wash up."

The proverbial light-bulb blinked on above Scotty's head and he followed her to the sink under the guise of continuing their small talk. He waited with anticipation as she pulled her apron over her head and hung it on a peg. Distracted, he began to stumble over his words. She frowned and asked him if everything was okay.

"Aye, everything is fine. Why do ye ask?"

"You just….had a strange look on your face," she answered suspiciously.

His stomach growled again just in time for him to recover, "Must be because I'm hungry. Hurry up, lass. A man could starve waiting around for ye."

Her bright blue eyes widened and she laughed again, "Alright! Alright! Sheesh!"

She quickly pulled off her gloves and turned to the sink. As she washed her hands, Scotty maneuvered himself against the counter casually and leaned in as if he wanted to wash his own hands next. Heather moved over to let him in and he pumped the soap and began scrubbing all the while watching for that freckle. He didn't see much at first, just the twisting motion of her soapy hands under the water. His mind mentally matched her fingers to the long fingers that massaged his soles, the square palms that gripped his heels. She rinsed and tore a paper towel from the dispenser and dried just as he noticed the small, brown freckle he had been looking for.

Pulling him out of his reverence, she asked him, "What are you staring at?" And his moment of truth had arrived.

"Yer hands." Sometimes, he thought the simplest answer was the best one.

"My hands?" Heather looked down at her hands and turned them, trying to figure out what Scotty was referring to. "What's wrong with my hands?"

"Oh nothing, lass," he answered, drying his own now. He took a step closer and she watched his face as he took both of her hands and studied them. "You have lovely hands. I've just now noticed." His gaze shifted to her eyes. "I bet ye give a man a great foot rub."

The color drained from Heather's face as she jerked her hands away, hiding them behind her and took a step back. She asked in astonishment, "How did you know it was me?"

Her expression made Scotty feel guilty. He hadn't meant to scare the poor girl. In his excitement at figuring out who "She" was, he hadn't realized Heather might think he'd be angry with her. He took a step to close the space between them. "I didn't know. Ye just told me."

Heather took another step back and bumped into the counter rambling, "I'm so sorry….I mean…I didn't intend for that to happen….when I saw your feet sticking out of the hatch I was just going to play a joke and maybe tickle your feet a little…but I just…I just…I got carried away."

While she spoke Scotty slowly closed the gap again until he was standing before her. He thought it was cute the way she tried to justify her actions. Then again he always thought she was a cute girl, although he'd never told her. But at that moment, for some inexplicable reason, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her and feel the touch of her beautiful hands. "Don't be sorry," he said softly. "Don't ever be sorry - I'm not."

Heather took a deep breath as though she were gathering her courage and blurted, "I was tempted to ask you out a couple of times….but then I was afraid you'd say no because you were too busy for me."

Scotty pried her hands away from their grip on the counter and with his eyes never leaving hers; he placed her hands on his hips then cupped her face in his. Heather stared at him in bewilderment. He thought how fragile she looked just then. She always seemed so confident about herself he'd forgotten how breakable she might be. He half expected her to slap his hands away by now but she didn't move at all. He let his fingers brush the side of her neck, feeling the swift pulse under her skin. There was something surreal about it all, a dreamlike quality. He didn't want it to end.

"Some temptations," Scotty explained gently, "shouldn't be resisted. Because they creep up on ye time and time again. Sometimes giving in is the only way to be rid of them."

The surrealness grew and his body reacted as his mouth descended on hers.

Finally, every muscle in his body seemed to sigh. Sinking into the feeling, Scotty let it take him away. And then Heather returned the kiss, curling her arms around his back, pulling him closer. One kiss began as another ended and her desire surged forward through him. Scotty ached for more. He was dying for the feel of her hands on his skin. He wanted to kiss every part of her.

Control yourself, laddie.

As much as Scotty hated to break away he did so a little at a time, letting his mouth trail along her jaw line, burying his face in her neck as he held her. "Ye see Heather?" he said still breathing roughly into her bobbed blonde hair, "Yer not the only one to get carried away."

As he leaned in to kiss her again, the intercom whistled and the strident Australian tones of the Chief Engineer said, "Marsh to Ensign Scott."

"Oh, hell. What is it this time?" Scotty muttered. He took a moment to run his thumb over Heather's lower lip before crossing to the intercom panel and pressing the button to connect him to engineering. "Scott here, Sir."

"My office, Scott. Right away."

Scott look over at Heather, whose grimace told him that she'd also caught the note of annoyance in the Senior Officer's voice. Oh well. Whatever it was, he'd best go and get it over with. Acknowledging Marsh's order, he switched off the comm channel and gave Heather an apologetic shrug. "Looks like dinner will have to wait."

"Problem is, he knows you're smarter than he is," she said, "Go on, you better run. I'll see you later."