Chapter 22- Love and Duty
It was a slow day in sickbay and my eyes were tired from reading the oh so interesting articles on psychology on the PADD in the office. I tossed it on my desk and rubbed my face with a protracted sigh. McCoy was out in the sickbay tending to a cook who experienced an unfortunate encounter with a dicing machine. Not all food on board was replicated; there was a kitchen that would cook actual food for special occasions if they had the correct provisions. If they were missing a particular ingredient, they got it from the replicator, so I guess in a way you could say all food was replicated.
I again picked up the PADD and switched it to message mode. On it, I typed a message to McCoy telling him I went down to the engine room to talk to Scotty if he needed to find me for any reason. I left it on his desk, a modern day sticky note.
I instantly felt better the moment I stepped into the lift. I had only been to the engine rooms once and that was to get on a shuttle. I smiled as I remembered Uhura and Sulu's excitement at me meeting Scotty so he could show me around over dinner so long ago. Better late than never, I guessed.
I stepped off the lift into an atmosphere of barely controlled chaos. People were running and yelling with a sense of purpose. So much so, I wondered if we were under attack and I somehow missed the warning sirens. From out of the fray, Scotty stepped forth with a death grip on a large wrench like it was a baseball bat. "Ah am sick to hell with all ya!" He bellowed. "Now get your arses in gear afore I brain every last one of ya and Starfleet'll have to send me a box of monkeys to replace the lot of you." He waved his wrench in the air menacingly. I stood there stunned. And I thought McCoy was the terror of his department. He often yelled empty threats at his staff, but he never waved any surgical instruments at them.
McCoy did say it was like the wild west down here and it looks like Scotty is Wyatt Earp.
He turned to glower at me, but his expression quickly changed when he recognized me. "Dr. Collins!" He beamed. "What brings ya here? Did one of me little 'uns call ya?" He asked looking around. "Would be just like 'em not to tell me."
"No one called me, Scotty." I laughed. "I came down here on my own."
He batted his eyes and asked, "Are ya after me, then? Did ya come to get in me head?"
He made me sound like a stalker and I was slightly offended. "Not so much. I was hoping to learn a little more about how the ship works, but it looks like it might be a bad time for you. I am sorry, I should have called you first." I said politely.
His eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas. "Och! I didn't know ya were interested, Doc! She's a real bonnie lass, there are none like her!" This man loved his job more than a person had a right to. He tossed his wrench away with a clang and proceeded to walk me through his department, eagerly chattering away about things I couldn't hope to remember. There was mention of plasma inducers, dilithium crystal articulation frames, and theta matrix compositors along with an alphabet soup of acronyms for various parts of the ship's engine assembly and a slew of Scottish slang.
I was numb by the end of the tour, but all the while I oohed and ahhed as politely as if he were telling me mundane details of his own child's development. In the end, I was convinced that Uhura was right, if there was a better engineer in the known universe, Starfleet hadn't found them yet. I was convinced he knew the location and purpose for every wire and rivet in the bowels of the ship, which I found greatly comforting considering his penchant for insane spontaneous reengineering when the occasion called for it.
Along the way I saw the engineer who got his hand stuck on my first day on duty in the sickbay. He smiled and waved, "Hiya, Doc!" I also saw a young woman, working furiously inside an access panel. She gripped her tool tight and wrenched away with a determined look on her face. I smiled, proud that she found herself comfortable among the guys, although there were several other women who worked in the department as well. She reminded me of Rosie the Riveter from the iconic WWII poster, dressed in coveralls, arm flexed, announcing to the world that women could do the same job as men while they were away at war.
"Are ya' in a hurry to get back to sickbay, Doc?" Scotty inquired.
"Not really." I answered truthfully. "McCoy knows where I am if he needs to find me."
"Why don't ya join me for a little tie on, then?" He offered. I had no idea what he was actually offering, but he seemed a decent man so I couldn't imagine it would be anything too off color. He led me to his office where he dug behind some old equipment manuals to get a hidden bottle of what I assumed was alcohol. It seemed everyone on this ship was a lush and drinking on the job was almost expected. Pretty remarkable I thought, considering the Enterprise was supposed to be Starfleet's flag ship. If this was the norm on the best the fleet had to offer, what was a day like on a lesser ship? Then again, it probably had more to do with Jim's relaxed attitude than anything else. He probably couldn't be bothered to enforce the rules so long as his Chief Engineer and CMO stayed just below legally drunk on most days.
He offered me a glass of the unknown substance and I wondered if it was his secret concoction that McCoy gave me in the lift after perhaps one of the most horrible days of my life. I stared at it with great trepidation, wondering if it was safe to drink or if it would cause instantaneous liver failure. "So," I said saving it for later, "you seemed a little freaked out earlier. Do I frighten you?"
He chuckled and replied, "Not much does, Doc. After ya work with the Captain for any time, ya don't fear nothin'. Ya'd be glad to laugh in the face of Death himself."
"Do you want to hear a joke?" I asked with my best disarming smile.
"Aye." He replied sitting up in his chair smiling.
"So a psychologist is conducting a group therapy session with mothers and their young children. 'You all have unhealthy obsessions' he tells them. He goes around the room and tells the first woman, 'You are obsessed with eating- you named your daughter Candy.' He tells the next, 'You are obsessed with money- you named your daughter Penny.' He says to the next mother, 'You named your child Brandy- you obviously have a drinking problem.' The last woman in the group gets up and pulls her son by the arm and says, 'Let's go home, Dick."
Scotty's jaw dropped and he cackled until his face turned red. "Ah knew I loved ya the moment I laid eyes on ya, lass!" He choked. "A bonnie that can drink and tell dirty jokes is a right keeper!"
I smiled and worked up the courage to drink what he had given me. I quickly downed it and it was every bit as painful as I feared it would be. My eyes watered and I coughed, I hoped he was not an overly generous man to give me a refill. "So, do you go on away missions often?" I asked trying to get my mind of the feeling that my esophagus was eroding like I just drank Draino.
"Nah." He answered waving me off. "No need most times. Suits me fine, ah am most happy here. Usually the Captain makes me mind the bridge while he and the Commander bounce off and that is bad enough, but yesterday was more than a body could take."
"Why is that?" I croaked out. My throat felt freshly exfoliated.
He laughed and slapped his desk. "Ah thought ya knew on account of ya havin' eats with Uhura every day."
"I do know." I admitted. "She told me awhile ago."
"Hoots! God but wasn't it hard goin' with that Jimmy alone! After he caught me snoggin' his girlfriend, I thought he would sneak up behind me and give me a nerve pinch or choke the ghost outta me like he did the Captain." His expression grew serious at the thought. That moment seemed to be indelible and salient to everyone that witnessed it, I almost wished I was there to see it myself. It must have been incredible.
"Did he say anything to you?" I asked curiously.
"He didn't. But that was almost worse." He answered morosely. "Ah wish he had. Ah wish he woulda called me a no good sot or kicked me in the bollocks good and proper. At least we could get on with it, but ya never know what the cryptic bastard is thinking from one second to the next and that makes the sufferin' unbearable."
I tried not to smile when I remembered the twinkle in Spock's eye when he told me kicking male humanoids in the nuts was often a good strategy. I doubted that he, as a fellow male, would inflict that kind of suffering on another. I have had male friends describe to me what an unpleasant sensation it was. From how they explained it, it felt like their testicles settled somewhere around their liver and they were left breathless and wavering between passing out or puking from the pain.
"I don't think he means you any harm." I reassured him. "Don't me wrong, he is not peachy with it, but I don't think he is particularly angry with you."
"Ah would be. That was a shite way to find out." He lamented shaking his head. "The Commander might seem a bit off, but he is a fine Jimmy and deservin' of better. Ah feel like shite over it." He seemed genuinely remorseful and I could tell he really did respect Spock as a colleague.
"I will tell you the same thing I told Uhura." I offered him leaning forward in my chair. "Maybe later, when enough time has passed that it is not so painful, you can talk to him about it and apologize to him yourself. While that is not something he would usually go for, I think that coming from you it would mean a lot even if he doesn't outwardly acknowledge it."
"Ah might." He nodded. "It is the only right thing to do as a man." He sighed and slumped in his chair. "Do ya mind if Ah turn on some music, Doc? Ah am in a dour mood and need a bit of cheer."
"Not at all, Scotty." I smiled. "I love music, remember?"
"Aye, that you do. How aboot Fratellis?" He asked laughing. "A right good drinkin' band. Ya know it is your doin', Ah never heard 'em until the night I met ya." He ordered the computer to play a selection of songs and his mood immediately improved. "So, Dr. Collins." He said kicking his feet up. "I told ya my particulars. Can ah ask about ya and the good doctor?"
"McCoy?" I scoffed. "What is with you and Uhura? Once again, there is nothing with us. I work with him and that is all. To get involved with him would be a violation of professional ethics." I was starting to wonder if the whole ship saw us that way. If so, I would have to start spending less time with him to slow down the rumor mill that seemed to be churning.
"Aye." He said mockingly. "'Tis a shame, then. The doctor is a right good man. He may act the wanker most times, but he is the fairest bloke ah have ever met aside from the Captain."
"That may be so," I sighed, "but some things are just off limits. That is part of the job."
He regarded me with a mixture of sadness and amusement as though he were privy to some big picture that I could not yet see and it felt patronizing. Professional standards apparently didn't account for much on this ship as Spock, Uhura, and Scotty all had a love triangle going and Jim was probably a world class philanderer fast approaching that of a porn star.
I guessed I was just too old fashioned. Between the drinking and hooking up, the ship at times seemed less a military vessel and more a floating frat house.