Meeting Across the River - [New Jersey, 2009]
It was dark again when Scotty woke up, half-twisted in sheets and still a little groggy. It actually took him a few moments of laying there in that darkness to get his bearings, and remember where he was, and remember when he was
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Hah. That sounded a fuckton better than waiting around here for... something.
Sounded like fun in its own right. And hell. You could get to know someone pretty well stuck in a car with them for days. Harold, for his part, wasn't so much a road trip person, but he liked the possibilities.
"Can't say I know much about North America either, to be honest with you." Figures Harold would live in a place all his damn life and never look twice at it. "Never been much for going far afield, you know? Did it when I had to, and I vacationed some, sure, but no real exploring."
No, wait, that wasn't true. At all. What the hell, Lee? He slapped himself mentally, shaking his head.
"Sorry. Seen a lot of the South. Nice place, if you're not... running from something. Wouldn't mind seeing some more. You know. With you." A little smile, in spite of that bad turn.
What was up with his head? It was like he was suddenly forgetting everything he'd ever been through or accomplished that mattered. It was like he was flickering, everything he tried to make for himself flitting in an out.
Time to get a fucking handle on this.
"Uh, anyway. What's mine is yours, and all that," he said, laughing a little. "I have - had? - a car. We can take it anywhere you want."
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Scotty respected history so far as engineering feats and mechanical accomplishments. But despite not having much interest past that, at least originally, some part of this whole situation appealed to him -- he couldn't get into the world of intangibles on the Enterprise, and while this still wasn't as good as being returned to his native universe, it was still a tangible world. A world where paper was used, and pencils, and rubber tires. Ecologically way behind, but still with its own charm.
"If ye've still got a car, we can figure somethin' out. I imagine ye'll have t' deal with yer parents, an' Kumar -- wouldna be proper t' nae at least patch things up there. Or at least start to."
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For as much as Harold had guilted when he looked himself up, he mostly just wanted to duck under and pretend none of that existed. Hide for the rest of us life, or until they could get out of this time.
They had no record of him after 2009. Who was Harold Lee to argue with history?
Get a handle, just get a handle. Harold sucked at getting handles on things. He turned away, going to the sink to wash his coffee cup. Washed it for long after it was clean. "Yeah. 'Course. Mom and Dad. Kumar said they freaked." Ugh.
Anything else, please. Words, something, any other subject but this, for the love of fuck. "Uh, maybe we should figure out what to do with Neil?"
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Pragmatism was pretty much innate to Scotty's personality. And really, he was actually kind of relieved to have gotten off of the ship. But it was fairly clear that Harold wasn't feeling nearly the same thing, and no amount of trying to force the man to focus on the same things Scotty tended to when in over his head was going to work.
It comes in waves...
For a moment, he was sitting on that dock in Risa, with a devastated Harold Lee next to him; they were both ragged, for that matter. And Scotty, on an impulse, had shoved Harold into the water, yanking his mind off his troubles for a time and just being for a bit.
Then he was back in New Jersey, in 2009. Risa seemed somehow very long ago, but the lessons weren't forgotten.
"Lemme see if I can wake him up, an' then we'll take him t' some hotel or motel, figure out where yer car is..." A pause. Think. "Then I think ye need t' show me what sort o' all-night places a man can get dinner, an' somewhere ye ken where it's pretty t' watch a sunrise."
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Harold would never agree at the moment, but if anyone was likely to give Harold a glimpse into the beauty of his own time, it would be Scotty.
As it was, he could latch on to that. Closing his eyes briefly and breathing in, he found a small grin; Scotty would get slung into a strange place and time, and want to see a sunrise. "Probably looking at a fucking Waffle House or something. Good place for a view is probably Sinatra Park," he said off-hand. "Like cityscapes at all?" Personally, he wasn't much for the New York skyline - it was always just kinda there - but tourists seemed to like it.
His grin faded fairly quickly, but he didn't feel quite so assailed by his own situation. Shove it away for now; take it back piece by piece. Maybe starting with Kumar. He couldn't process what havoc talking to his parents would wreak.
Huh. He really should stop staring at this coffee cup.
Setting it aside, he turned around, offering a little half-smile. "How about a leisurely evening dump off of a drugged-out celebrity, then I buy you dinner?"
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He wasn't much for cityscapes, but he figured that it wasn't going to kill him; at least he'd get some better idea of what the world looked like. "A'right, I'd say that sounds like a date. Got any clothes that'll fit me around?"
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Harold supposed if he managed to keep from dumping coffee all over Scotty this time, it would be a win. Syrup, on the other hand...
Ngh. Right, okay, no blushing. Ahem.
Nope. No clothes, you'll just have to go naked, oh well, shame that.
"I, uh." A little nervous laugh; not unpleasantly nervous, just made a little silly by his own train of thought. "I could find something, I think." Biting his lip, he made a yeah, I'm kinda stupid over you sort of face before scrubbing a hand through his hair and moving to leave for his bedroom.
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