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Once again, Leonard couldn’t sleep.
It had happened almost every day since the start of camp, and no one could fault him, seeing as he was the only thing standing between his Captain and certain death. He sighed, standing up and groping his nightstand for his bottle of melatonin gummies. The plastic container clattered to the floor and he grumbled, sitting up. He’d already had two that night anyway. He settled for a walk instead. Wandering down the corridors of the Enterprise, he quickly came to the adjacent doors of med bay and engineering. The latter door was propped open with a pair of work boots, and as he peered inside, he could see that the only person there was the Chief Engineer, Montgomery Scott. He was sprawled out underneath a conduit, scribbling calculations onto a pried up floor panel.
“What in the name of the devil’s left pinky are you doing, man?” he asked, amused, crouching down to sit next to the scotsman.
“Ah’m trying to reroute the wiring from this conduit here to that one over there,” he replied, pointing, “for efficiency.”
“I see. And, uh, why exactly do you have one of the floor panels peeled up?” He smirked, propping his chin on his hand.
“Where else am Ah supposed to do my calculations?!” The engineer exclaimed like this was the most obvious thing in the universe.
“Um…a PADD?” Leonard laughed. Scotty sat up.
“Oh. Good point. Well, it’s too late now,” he shrugged, fastening the conduit shut and stomping the floor panel back into place. “So what brings ye to the deepest bowels of engineering, Len?” He asked, brushing engine grease off his hands onto his pants.
“Couldn’t sleep,” the doctor shrugged, leaning casually against one of the many pipes in the room. “Why are you up so late?”
“Ah’m always up late. Gotta take care of me Iron Lady,” he grinned, winking at Leonard. He blushed, kicking the floor. “Would ye like a drink?”
Leonard gaped at the Scotsman. Montgomery barked a laugh.
“It’s just juice, don’t worry!”
“Oh. Sure, why not?” He shrugged, cracking a smile. A bottle of water was handed to him, their fingers brushing together, and McCoy stared at it, but then the engineer placed a package of Koolaid powder in his other hand, and realization dawned on him. He watched in fond amusement as Monty tore his own packet open with his teeth and poured it into his open bottle. Leonard fiddled the top open and dumped it into his water, watching as it fizzed slightly, dying the water an artificial red.
“This is super unhealthy, ya know?” He sighed.
“Ah know. But it’s good,” Scotty shrugged, winking.
“Monty, that’s a terrible attitude!” He laughed, ignoring the blush creeping up his neck. The Scotsman just shrugged.
“Oh well. It’s just a wee bit of fun, live a little!” He beamed, shaking Leonard gently by the shoulder. McCoy rolled his eyes.
“Hey, how’s your wrist feeling?” He asked, taking a slow sip of the fake-fruit drink.
“Never been better! You did a right fine job mending me up, Len,” he demonstrated by rolling his wrist around a couple times. Leonard, slightly off-put by the sudden compliment, just mumbled
“‘Was nothing,” skipping several words, true to his southern heritage.
The two burned through Scotty’s entire stock of Koolaid that night, just talking.
