2253

---

"Nice pleats," Fio said, a wicked smile curving her cupid bow lips, a look in her eyes that could only be called 'predatory.'

"They are, at that," Scotty answered, a little rough-voiced and perhaps a little cheeky, enjoying being sized up like that more than he'd ever admit to anyone, including himself. "How'd ye get here, love?"

"I have my methods." She sidestepped neatly to block him walking back to that diplomatic dinner he was supposed to be returning to, the one he was at because Captain Pike was still serious, even months later, about Scotty gaining command experience, and that included diplomacy. "Having fun?"

"Explainin' the potential pitfalls o' planetary weather systems to a lot o' politicians?" Scotty pretended to think about it for all of two seconds before snorting. "No."

The hallway was quiet. Down through the ornate double doors, dinner was going on, and on, and on. Outside, the city's nightlife moved and breathed, but in here, nothing seemed to.

Until now.

Fio was dressed for shore leave; a skirt that ended just above her knees, and a tight-fitting t-shirt, and a pair of brown, buckled boots that crawled up her calves and drove him just that wee bit crazy, because those weren't just any boots, they were boots. He had been planning on getting out of there as early as he could get away with to meet up with her, but apparently, she didn't feel like waiting.

And even after hanging about a number of people, including some very beautiful women, just looking at her made him feel foolish and warm, that bright feeling, like everything in the universe was right.

"They're gonna be wonderin' where I am," he pointed out, and he knew he wouldn't get past her unscathed, but he tried to duck around her anyway.

Admittedly, he didn't even start to expect what came next.

Fio was enlisted, and he was an officer, and they could both get into plenty of trouble if anyone decided to take issue with their relationship, because he supposedly had rank and therefore power over her, and aye, well and good in theory--

--reality was that she had him wrapped very happily around her pinky finger, and when she wanted something, he was willing to go to some pretty serious lengths to give it to her.

When she didn't just take what she wanted, anyway.

This was how he ended up face against a wall with her groping him in a manner that immediately made him unsuitable for any polite company.

"Very nice pleats," she said, with her grin clear and bright in her voice.

Scotty managed to drag in a breath and turn around, and even blushing and waiting for trouble to come down on them at any second, he got his hands on her waist, thumbs stroking the soft skin where her shirt had ridden up while she had plastered him against the wall. "Fio, there are fifty politicians and almost the entire senior staff in there!" he said, somehow managing to get words past the part of him boggling in absolute disbelief that this was even happening.

And somehow managing to speak despite the fact that she could tap him like a tuning fork and make him hum, head to toe.

"And us out here. Hm, funny that," Fio said, grinning even wider, and then using her boots to kick his feet apart, outside edge to instep, and brace them there.

That was almost enough to break his brain, right there. "Fio."

Her hands. God, if anyone walked out--

"Fio, please--"

"I love it when you beg," she said, and aye, yes, please, with the boots and the hands and oh. He was a dead man. He wouldn't be able to walk back in there. Especially in a kilt. Because even as heavy as it was, there could be no mistaking his, uh, state--

And how the Hell did his hands get under her shirt, anyway? He didn't remember telling them that they could do that, especially since it would just encourage her, and he always had trouble with this bra, it was so damn hard to get undone, whoever engineered it--

"We canna--" He had no idea why he was protesting.

Oh. Right. The fifty politicians and the vast majority of the senior staff, over behind those ornate double doors, who could walk out at any time, and--

--oh.






The bad part about wearing a kilt was that when your knees were watery, it was a bit harder to hide.

Scotty somehow managed to make it back to his seat at his assigned table, but he wasn't entirely sure how, and he did manage to sit down, and he thought he was doing all right looking alert and coherent and politely interested in the never-ending conversation that was going on, but honestly, he wasn't quite what anyone would call alert or coherent or politely interested.

Dazed, maybe. And reeling, definitely. And still boggling about the fact that Fio had-- and in a public hallway--

"Are you all right, Lieutenant?" one of the politicians asked him, and Scotty blinked stupidly back at him for a moment or two.

"Uhm, sorry. Aye?" He wasn't sure why he made that into a question.

"You look--" the man trailed off, apparently not sure how to finish that statement.

Scotty became aware of the heat on his face, to go along with the way his thoroughly dazed brain kept stumbling around trying to comprehend what they just did, oh god in heaven. So, he did the only thing he could, and stood up, and pushed his chair in, managing not to stammer by some miracle. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm a... wee bit out o' sorts. If I could be excused?"

"Of course. Feel better," the man said, nodding.

He nodded back and then went and got permission to go. Number One sort of eyed him, but she gave him his leave. Thank all merciful that Captain Pike was otherwise engaged. He didn't want to contemplate what would happen if the captain put two and two together, there. The brig, maybe.

Finding his way back out meant walking past the spot in the hallway where-- aye. Somehow, he managed to do so with dignity.

The summer night air, lit by twin moons, felt good on his face after all that, and he tugged his uniform jacket down nice and neat. He was just about to go and hail a cab, to go and meet her, when she walked over from where she'd apparently been waiting on the steps.

"That was fast," she said, grinning at him and sliding into his arms.

"I can't believe ye did that." It was the truth, but Scotty found himself grinning back at her anyway. She was good at doing that to him, too. "God, Fio, I'll never be able to walk into that building again!"

She gave him a quick kiss, and then leaned in against him, all warmth and sweetness. "Your fault for wearing a kilt. You couldn't expect me to just ignore that, could you? Besides, we'll probably never see this place again anyway."

"I hope not," he said, still red-faced, burying his nose in her hair and laughing. "I can't imagine how I'd explain--"





2265

---

"--why you're glowing red?" McCoy asked, one of his eyebrows up so high that Scotty thought it might just fly off his face.

"Nothin', Doctor. Just, uh." Scotty made himself walk past that spot in the hallway, headed for the ornate double doors, and kept the memory of Fio Langley and his smile to himself. "Nothin'."

"Uh huh," McCoy said, dubiously.