[Fanfiction] Always Know Where Your Towel Is, by callieach
Title: Always Know Where Your Towel Is
Author: callieach
Fandom: Star Trek xi
Characters/Pairings: Scotty/Gaila (with some Scotty/Gaila/Uhura at the end)
Rating:hard R
Word Count: 1 836
Summary: Five Times Gaila Stole Scotty's Towel And One Time He Stole What He Really, Honest To God Thought Was Her Towel (filling this prompt at st_xi_kink)
Disclaimer: Sadly, not the characters nor the idea is mine.
-I-
One minute, he was walking alone down an empty and dimly-lit corridor, his shoes squelching softly, and the next, he was having the towel previously draped around his neck stolen.
"Hey! Trans-warp beaming guy, right?"
He stopped and turned. Behind him was a green-skinned woman with her red hair tied back and her red uniform dress revealing much too much leg. An Orion, he assumed, probably from Engineering if she cared about the beaming feat he still couldn't quite believe. He could tell right away she was either going to be lots of fun - as those two observations implied - or lots of trouble - as the way she was twirling his towel around led him to believe.
"Aye, tha's me," he said slowly, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck as if the towel would suddenly reappear there.
"I think that's really neat. You must be a genius."
He shifted his weight back and forth between his feet, then changed what hand was holding his sopping wet jacket, too. "Well… Thanks?"
The young woman smiled at him. "I'm Gaila, by the way."
Then she held out her hand and he shook it.
"Montgomery Scott."
-II-
When he came back to his temporary dorm room from the floor's showers, he was honestly surprised to find her still there. Well, surprised and a wee bit embarrassed, because he hadn't thought to take a full change of clean clothes with him and hadn't felt the need to put on anything more than boxers on the short trek back to the room.
"Have a nice shower?" she asked, chipper.
"Uhh, yes." Her pheromones and casually sprawled pose on his bed made his single-minded goal of getting to the closet increasingly difficult. That was one train he couldn't keep on track. New Orion friends made engineers lousy, apparently.
"Good."
He managed to get across the room, then turned to speak over his shoulder as he rummaged through the closet. "Can I ask why you're still hanging around here, lass? Not that I mind, but shouldn't a girl such as yourself have better people to be spending time with?"
She did what seemed to be a full-body-shrug. "Most everyone is still off having thank-goodness-we're-not-dead sex with all those people they never had the balls to before."
"Still?" He chuckled. "But we've been back for four days."
"Humans are way too uptight about the sex thing. It tends to take them quite a long time to regulate emotional and physical satisfaction."
"A very astute observation," he complemented.
"Thank you," she replied.
He caught himself frowning at the closet. "But you don't have anyone?"
There wasn't a reply and he was just about to turn around when his towel slipped off his shoulder and whipped itself against his right butt cheek. And then he did turn around, raising an eyebrow at the culprit. She was standing with her arms crossed, his micro-fibre towel dangling from one hand.
"Well, I'm with you, aren't I?"
He was about to be flustered, apologetic, and/or confused when she broke into a grin.
-III-
He'd known her less than a week and she'd already done some serious rearranging of his world. The latest in these changes was the beach.
True, he was ghostly pale from sixth months on that icy hell the Federation called a planet, but blistering hot California sun didn't seem to be the answer.
But who was he to refuse the pout of a woman like Gaila? He'd accepted the invitation and packed sunscreen and a towel, just in case a dip in the Pacific took his fancy. It wound up taking her fancy first, and she dragged him along for the ride, making him leave his baggy football shirt on the sand, along with his comfort.
The most appropriate word for what they did in the surf was romp. She would splash him so he would swim down and grab her foot, pulling her under. She'd disappear under the water for long seconds and then sneak up behind him; he retaliated with at tickle fights (at least one of which he was certain he'd lost).
Eventually, he waved his metaphorical white flag and they waded back up onto shore, dripping with salt water and being clumped to by sand as they trudged back to their stuff.
When she flopped down on her beach towel and then reached for his to dry herself off, he was about to say something about it. He really was, since this was the third time she'd stolen a towel he was using. And they hadn't even known each other that long.
As usual, it all came back to his being a defenceless human male faced with a particularly charming Orion female.
Any sort of wittiness about the towel immediately transformed into: "At least scooch over, then, so I can sit on yers."
She complied and he was sure to drip on her as he sat down.
-IV-
The captain called for the two of them specifically. Then the leader of the rather hostile aliens had requested the two of them specifically, too. He over-compensated her excitement at being off the ship and seeing exciting things with so much worry he didn't notice the figure sneaking up behind him until it was too late.
Some time later, they awoke, just the two of them, in what looked like a cave. The best part was the sticky purple liquid covering them both. As he tried to contact the ship, she scouted around, eventually revealing no exit, but a neatly-packed basket of flares, towels, protein nibs, and moleskin jugs filled with water. The attached note - wherein the hostile beings in question suggested not spending too long with their skin in contact with the purple stuff - made this, by far, the strangest kidnapping experience either of them had ever heard of.
The communicator was mostly filled with static, but he was certain a message had gotten though, even if they weren't anywhere they could be beamed out.
"My hands feel like they're burning," she said suddenly, after she had been looking at them strangely for a while.
"Perhaps it's best to get this goop off, then, aye?"
Not long after, they has gone through two of the water jugs and discarded their uniforms into a pile. Wearing only an old-fashioned terrycloth towel tucked around his waist, he would have preferred if she'd taken the same approach to modesty, instead of strutting around naked. His thoughts were not appropriate thoughts for the time.
They were reciprocated, though, because she pressed herself against him and said, in the most matter-of-fact tone he'd ever heard her use, "If we're going to waste away in here, I suggest we have some fun, first."
He opened his mouth to act innocent and naive - truthfully, the friendship he had with her was not worth risking, not even for we're-all-gonna-die sex - but was given away by the bulge in the towel. She proceeded to make rather short use of the towel, in his opinion.
-V-
She was stretched out on her side on his bed, her large pile of rusty red curls going every which way at about the same level as his chest. They weren't touching, just watching each other and talking
"After the week we've had, I think the Enterprise and her whole engineering crew need a good shore leave," she told him. He tried to focus on her face instead of her legs, which were currently bending and unbending in smooth, fluid motions, working out kinks in her muscles.
"'Ere, 'ere," he agreed. "Now ta just get the captain seeing our point of view."
"I think I could persuade Jimmy into listening to our complaints, at least."
"I think you could persuade anyone inta just 'bout anything, Miss Gaila."
She laughed at that, then turned her face and burrowed it into his blanket. When it seemed like she might've fallen asleep, he gently rolled himself off the bed and headed to his bathroom, removing his red jersey along the way.
In the bathroom, he closed the door behind him, got out a towel from his cupboard, and stripped off the rest of his clothes. Then he slipped into the shower, trying to wash away the stress he'd felt over the past few days. Alien attacks and major malfunctions with his ship and arguing with the CMO over protocol… well, none of those were fun.
When he was done in the shower, he got out and absently reached for his towel. It was missing.
Looking up and seeing the reason, he felt torn between asking her why she'd taken his towel (again) and asking her why she'd taken off her clothes. He settled on a raised eyebrow and a "Well?"
-+ I-
They had the code to each other's rooms and a mutual agreement that the door was always metaphorically open. They both took advantage of it with increasing frequency. He was about to call out to her when he realized that the shower was going in the bathroom she shared with the room next door. He also realized that her door to the bathroom was wide open and he had a bad habit of promising to get her back for things and then never doing it.
Well, he could stick to his word just this once.
He peeked into the bathroom and grabbed the small bundle that certainly looked like a Starfleet standard issue towel. Then he chucked it on her bed and sat down beside it, waiting for her reaction.
It was actually rather mild and not at all what he expected. She strode out of the bathroom with a towel tied around her and an unfamiliar look on her face.
"Ah," she said when she spied him. "Hello, Montgomery."
"Hello, yerself, Gaila."
She walked across the room and sat down straddling his lap. "You haven't seen my - oh." She broke off and grabbed what he had really, honest-to-god thought was her towel off the bed. "You have seen it. And stole it," she said playfully, nuzzling against the side of his face.
"Yer towel?" he asked.
"No, silly, my sylnth. I was going to put it on for Nyota."
"Should I leave, then?" He really didn't want her to say yes to this. Thankfully, she said no, then nibbled on his ear, took the towelish not-towel and headed back into the bathroom.
He stayed put, but jumped a little when the door opened behind him.
"Lieutenant Uhura," he greeted, nodding sharply at her as she stopped in the middle of the room.
The newcomer gave him a smile. "Commander Scott."
"Oh, N," a voice called from the bathroom. "You don't mind if Montgomery joins us today, will you? In bed he is a simultaneous sweetheart and sex god. It's quite delightful. I'm sure you'll enjoy him."
He blushed and was about to apologize for intruding when he was joined on the bed by a warm body and a low, "I don't mind at all."
Author: callieach
Fandom: Star Trek xi
Characters/Pairings: Scotty/Gaila (with some Scotty/Gaila/Uhura at the end)
Rating:hard R
Word Count: 1 836
Summary: Five Times Gaila Stole Scotty's Towel And One Time He Stole What He Really, Honest To God Thought Was Her Towel (filling this prompt at st_xi_kink)
Disclaimer: Sadly, not the characters nor the idea is mine.
-I-
One minute, he was walking alone down an empty and dimly-lit corridor, his shoes squelching softly, and the next, he was having the towel previously draped around his neck stolen.
"Hey! Trans-warp beaming guy, right?"
He stopped and turned. Behind him was a green-skinned woman with her red hair tied back and her red uniform dress revealing much too much leg. An Orion, he assumed, probably from Engineering if she cared about the beaming feat he still couldn't quite believe. He could tell right away she was either going to be lots of fun - as those two observations implied - or lots of trouble - as the way she was twirling his towel around led him to believe.
"Aye, tha's me," he said slowly, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck as if the towel would suddenly reappear there.
"I think that's really neat. You must be a genius."
He shifted his weight back and forth between his feet, then changed what hand was holding his sopping wet jacket, too. "Well… Thanks?"
The young woman smiled at him. "I'm Gaila, by the way."
Then she held out her hand and he shook it.
"Montgomery Scott."
-II-
When he came back to his temporary dorm room from the floor's showers, he was honestly surprised to find her still there. Well, surprised and a wee bit embarrassed, because he hadn't thought to take a full change of clean clothes with him and hadn't felt the need to put on anything more than boxers on the short trek back to the room.
"Have a nice shower?" she asked, chipper.
"Uhh, yes." Her pheromones and casually sprawled pose on his bed made his single-minded goal of getting to the closet increasingly difficult. That was one train he couldn't keep on track. New Orion friends made engineers lousy, apparently.
"Good."
He managed to get across the room, then turned to speak over his shoulder as he rummaged through the closet. "Can I ask why you're still hanging around here, lass? Not that I mind, but shouldn't a girl such as yourself have better people to be spending time with?"
She did what seemed to be a full-body-shrug. "Most everyone is still off having thank-goodness-we're-not-dead sex with all those people they never had the balls to before."
"Still?" He chuckled. "But we've been back for four days."
"Humans are way too uptight about the sex thing. It tends to take them quite a long time to regulate emotional and physical satisfaction."
"A very astute observation," he complemented.
"Thank you," she replied.
He caught himself frowning at the closet. "But you don't have anyone?"
There wasn't a reply and he was just about to turn around when his towel slipped off his shoulder and whipped itself against his right butt cheek. And then he did turn around, raising an eyebrow at the culprit. She was standing with her arms crossed, his micro-fibre towel dangling from one hand.
"Well, I'm with you, aren't I?"
He was about to be flustered, apologetic, and/or confused when she broke into a grin.
-III-
He'd known her less than a week and she'd already done some serious rearranging of his world. The latest in these changes was the beach.
True, he was ghostly pale from sixth months on that icy hell the Federation called a planet, but blistering hot California sun didn't seem to be the answer.
But who was he to refuse the pout of a woman like Gaila? He'd accepted the invitation and packed sunscreen and a towel, just in case a dip in the Pacific took his fancy. It wound up taking her fancy first, and she dragged him along for the ride, making him leave his baggy football shirt on the sand, along with his comfort.
The most appropriate word for what they did in the surf was romp. She would splash him so he would swim down and grab her foot, pulling her under. She'd disappear under the water for long seconds and then sneak up behind him; he retaliated with at tickle fights (at least one of which he was certain he'd lost).
Eventually, he waved his metaphorical white flag and they waded back up onto shore, dripping with salt water and being clumped to by sand as they trudged back to their stuff.
When she flopped down on her beach towel and then reached for his to dry herself off, he was about to say something about it. He really was, since this was the third time she'd stolen a towel he was using. And they hadn't even known each other that long.
As usual, it all came back to his being a defenceless human male faced with a particularly charming Orion female.
Any sort of wittiness about the towel immediately transformed into: "At least scooch over, then, so I can sit on yers."
She complied and he was sure to drip on her as he sat down.
-IV-
The captain called for the two of them specifically. Then the leader of the rather hostile aliens had requested the two of them specifically, too. He over-compensated her excitement at being off the ship and seeing exciting things with so much worry he didn't notice the figure sneaking up behind him until it was too late.
Some time later, they awoke, just the two of them, in what looked like a cave. The best part was the sticky purple liquid covering them both. As he tried to contact the ship, she scouted around, eventually revealing no exit, but a neatly-packed basket of flares, towels, protein nibs, and moleskin jugs filled with water. The attached note - wherein the hostile beings in question suggested not spending too long with their skin in contact with the purple stuff - made this, by far, the strangest kidnapping experience either of them had ever heard of.
The communicator was mostly filled with static, but he was certain a message had gotten though, even if they weren't anywhere they could be beamed out.
"My hands feel like they're burning," she said suddenly, after she had been looking at them strangely for a while.
"Perhaps it's best to get this goop off, then, aye?"
Not long after, they has gone through two of the water jugs and discarded their uniforms into a pile. Wearing only an old-fashioned terrycloth towel tucked around his waist, he would have preferred if she'd taken the same approach to modesty, instead of strutting around naked. His thoughts were not appropriate thoughts for the time.
They were reciprocated, though, because she pressed herself against him and said, in the most matter-of-fact tone he'd ever heard her use, "If we're going to waste away in here, I suggest we have some fun, first."
He opened his mouth to act innocent and naive - truthfully, the friendship he had with her was not worth risking, not even for we're-all-gonna-die sex - but was given away by the bulge in the towel. She proceeded to make rather short use of the towel, in his opinion.
-V-
She was stretched out on her side on his bed, her large pile of rusty red curls going every which way at about the same level as his chest. They weren't touching, just watching each other and talking
"After the week we've had, I think the Enterprise and her whole engineering crew need a good shore leave," she told him. He tried to focus on her face instead of her legs, which were currently bending and unbending in smooth, fluid motions, working out kinks in her muscles.
"'Ere, 'ere," he agreed. "Now ta just get the captain seeing our point of view."
"I think I could persuade Jimmy into listening to our complaints, at least."
"I think you could persuade anyone inta just 'bout anything, Miss Gaila."
She laughed at that, then turned her face and burrowed it into his blanket. When it seemed like she might've fallen asleep, he gently rolled himself off the bed and headed to his bathroom, removing his red jersey along the way.
In the bathroom, he closed the door behind him, got out a towel from his cupboard, and stripped off the rest of his clothes. Then he slipped into the shower, trying to wash away the stress he'd felt over the past few days. Alien attacks and major malfunctions with his ship and arguing with the CMO over protocol… well, none of those were fun.
When he was done in the shower, he got out and absently reached for his towel. It was missing.
Looking up and seeing the reason, he felt torn between asking her why she'd taken his towel (again) and asking her why she'd taken off her clothes. He settled on a raised eyebrow and a "Well?"
-+ I-
They had the code to each other's rooms and a mutual agreement that the door was always metaphorically open. They both took advantage of it with increasing frequency. He was about to call out to her when he realized that the shower was going in the bathroom she shared with the room next door. He also realized that her door to the bathroom was wide open and he had a bad habit of promising to get her back for things and then never doing it.
Well, he could stick to his word just this once.
He peeked into the bathroom and grabbed the small bundle that certainly looked like a Starfleet standard issue towel. Then he chucked it on her bed and sat down beside it, waiting for her reaction.
It was actually rather mild and not at all what he expected. She strode out of the bathroom with a towel tied around her and an unfamiliar look on her face.
"Ah," she said when she spied him. "Hello, Montgomery."
"Hello, yerself, Gaila."
She walked across the room and sat down straddling his lap. "You haven't seen my - oh." She broke off and grabbed what he had really, honest-to-god thought was her towel off the bed. "You have seen it. And stole it," she said playfully, nuzzling against the side of his face.
"Yer towel?" he asked.
"No, silly, my sylnth. I was going to put it on for Nyota."
"Should I leave, then?" He really didn't want her to say yes to this. Thankfully, she said no, then nibbled on his ear, took the towelish not-towel and headed back into the bathroom.
He stayed put, but jumped a little when the door opened behind him.
"Lieutenant Uhura," he greeted, nodding sharply at her as she stopped in the middle of the room.
The newcomer gave him a smile. "Commander Scott."
"Oh, N," a voice called from the bathroom. "You don't mind if Montgomery joins us today, will you? In bed he is a simultaneous sweetheart and sex god. It's quite delightful. I'm sure you'll enjoy him."
He blushed and was about to apologize for intruding when he was joined on the bed by a warm body and a low, "I don't mind at all."