{. on the verge of G I V I N G U P .} scotty

[arc]

For the third time this week, Spock couldn't sleep. He had tried, unsuccessfully, for the past two hours. Deciding it was time to give up on a good night's rest, Spock finally left his room, heading down one of the many hallway, with no particular location in mind. He would just walk until he felt better, he told himself. It was something that he was fond of doing, whether anyone realized it or not. But tonight, he was seemingly the only person awake on the USS. Enterprise. Everyone was either asleep or having a good time on Earth while the crew was on Shore leave. Spock didn't have the privilege of enjoying himself during the vacation, however. He had far too much on his mind – the destruction of his planet, the death of his mother, the loss of Uhura . . . Everything was slowly spiraling out of control, and he could do next to nothing about it.

Tonight's events hadn't helped a bit. He should have just stayed in his room . . . But no, his human instincts had to kick in, and he had visited Uhura instead. Of course, Spock had changed his mind at the last second, deciding to let her go, probably forever. Why? There were many reasons. Spock couldn't find it in him to express his emotions, even to her, and Uhura deserved a man who would show his love. But Spock, being the stubborn Vulcan that he was, just couldn't seem to give up his old ways. He couldn't let go of the Vulcan traditions, so he had turned his back on her – for her own good, of course. He regretted it more than anything. But it had to be done, he kept telling himself. She was better off without him. Uhura would find someone else anyways. After all, wasn't anyone better than the cold, calculated half-Vulcan?

And now he had no idea where he was going or what he was doing. Inside, he was hurting more deeply than anyone could imagine, but he tried to maintain control of those emotions. He couldn't break down. Not now. Spock couldn't let anyone see what he was feeling or what he was thinking, and that was a downfall of his. He knew that, but he had given up trying to overcome it. Sitting in his room thinking about it hadn't done him any good, and now he was roaming the halls without any notion of what was really going on, almost delirious, for whatever reasons. He had never been this upset about anything before, and it showed when Spock nearly stumbled into a wall that he could have sworn hadn't been there seconds before. Now he was starting to see things!

Shaking his head, Spock stopped his frantic walking, leaning back against the wall that he had nearly run through. He let his hands fall loosely to his sides, taking a deep breath to calm himself, and closed his eyes. Taking deep breaths was a good method of calming himself when he was in emotional situations such as this. But this time, it didn't work. After the breathing session had ended, Spock still felt terrible. He felt like screaming at himself for leaving Uhura, but logic told him that he had done the right thing. Should he really listen to logic?

Practically giving up, Spock slid down the wall, forcing himself into a sitting position. If anyone were to walk by, they would think him crazy for sitting in the middle of a hallway, with his back to the wall, but he didn't care. No one was up at this time of the night anyways. Sighing, Spock leaned his head up against the wall as well, closing his eyes and mind to the world around him.

[LT. CMDR. MONTGOMERY SCOTT]

"Oh, I found my love, my only love, when the moon was shining bright
I found her there in the middle of the square and now I'll bloody well hold her tight" Scotty's song, which had previous been formed at least partially from a song that had existed at one point. But now that he was on his own, and thoroughly beyond the point that could honestly be labeled as "tipsy," he was letting lose, and had resorted to making up words of his own since, in his opinion, the original song was quite maudlin. He had retrieved his bottle of scotch from the bridge after leaving Uhura where he was sure she couldn't get into any more trouble, and had made a trip back to his quarters to refill the flask, which was all but empty after the drawn-out boozefest that had occurred on the bridge. But once he'd gotten back there, and successfully poured a large quantity of the scotch in the larger bottle he had there into the smaller flask (surprisingly without spilling any on himself), he realized that his room was quite boring compared to the drama and excitement he was sure lay lurking in the corridors.

There was no telling what sorts of interesting things he could find on a half-abandoned ship. If there had actually been more people on board, Scotty would probably have confined his drunken self to his quarters; he had sense enough to not risk running into a lot of folks when he was in this condition. But the odds of finding somebody at this hour, let alone someone whose opinion mattered, well, they were low enough that he thought it was worth the risk for a little excitement. In spite of the fact that he'd willingly chosen to stay on board instead of heading off to join everyone else in their merrymaking on the surface, he was starting to get a little bored. There was only so much work you could do, even if it was work you loved, like his was, before you went a little stir-crazy and had to find some entertainment.

He meandered down the hall, singing periodically and taking breaks when he felt like taking a sip of scotch, and came around the corner to find someone inexplicably parked in the hallway for the second time in a week. Only this time, it was someone who could get him into a heap of trouble for traipsing around the ship drunk. Scotty tucked the flask into his belt, and cleared his throat, trying to focus his thoughts and calm the spinning in his head. What to say, what to say...He could start by asking what in this world or any other Spock might be doing sitting alone in the middle of the hallway in the middle of the night, but then, Spock could counter with a similar question that would only be made more pressing by the addition of the smell of alcohol that was undoubtedly wafting about Scotty's entire person.

"Oh, hello!" he said, cheerily, settling on a friendly greeting instead of any of the other inquiries or evasive comments he'd been thinking of. "Can't sleep either, eh?" he added, moving to the opposite side of the hall as Spock and sliding down into a similar position facing the Vulcan. "I must say, I think it's an epidemic." He needed to stop talking. Actually, he wasn't sure why he'd stopped walking. But in retrospect, it was probably the right choice. If he wandered off down the hall in either direction, Spock would probably see how uneven his steps were, and might call him out on it.

But what was he going to say, now that he'd initiated a conversation? The flask was hidden behind him, in his belt, digging uncomfortably into his back as it was pressed against the wall, but for now it was concealed. He could at least pretend to be sober briefly. It occurred to him then, though, that maybe Spock had better things to be worrying about than Scotty's sobriety. Maybe they had something to do with the tearful woman Scotty had left not an hour earlier. Hmm, that was an interesting thought, and while Scotty was currently harboring some reservations about this particular man due to the trauma he seemed to have inflicted upon Uhura, he figured he could give Spock a chance to voice his own concerns. Since when had he been acting as the relationship go-between? This was probably going nowhere good, but he thought he might fall over if he tried to get up now, so he stayed put.

[arc]

So many thoughts were buzzing about in Spock's mind, he didn't even notice Scotty at first. After speaking a friendly “hello” and hearing no response in return, the man probably thought that Spock was ignoring him completely, but that wasn't the case. He was half out of it due to lack of sleep and bubbling emotions, and that affected his senses – his sense of hearing being predominant, apparently. It was only when Scotty took up a seat on the other side of the wall that Spock looked up, surprised to find that he wasn't the only one roaming the halls in the middle of the night. It took him a while to recognize the man as Montgomery Scott, a Lieutenant Commander aboard the USS. Enterprise. Spock had only seen the man a handful of times, and their first meeting hadn't necessarily been a good one. Of course, “Scotty” (as he was called) most likely remembered him quite well. It was a wonder the man had summed up the courage to sit down and speak with him, for Spock was likely to demote him for the smallest of things.

Now, Spock wasn't in the mood for speaking to anyone at the moment, but since Scotty had practically pushed his way into the Vulcan Commander's business, Spock couldn't really ignore him. And he had no reason to tell him off . . . yet. It was only then that Spock realized that he didn't look presentable in the least, and Scotty probably thought him crazy for sitting in the middle of a hallway, so he straightened himself up, trying to make himself look more like the Commander that he was supposed to be. Coughing slightly, annoyed by the interruption, Spock studied the man carefully. Something was wrong with him. He was out of sorts. Spock couldn't quite place his finger on it, but something wasn't quite right about Montgomery Scott. Maybe he, like Spock, was just tired. But whatever it was, Spock ignored it. He could care less right now.

What should he say? He didn't really want to start up a conversation with the man. Not now. Not when he felt so . . . vulnerable. He might make a fool of himself. He, a Commanding Officer, making a fool of himself in front of a lower-ranking official. It was preposterous. So, Spock decided to stick with something simple and demanding. ”What have you been off doing in the middle of the night?” Spock wasn't trying to be mean, really, but his tone came off as such.

He wanted the man to go away, to leave him alone, but for some reason Spock held back. Scotty hadn't really done anything wrong, and Spock wasn't in the mood for lecturing anyone. Besides, he had more important matters to worry about. Spock couldn't help but wonder what Uhura was doing right about now. She probably hadn't been able to sleep either, but had she stayed in her room? He hoped so . . . He hoped she wasn't a wreck like he was. But, of course, that would be inevitable after what had occurred. Perhaps Scotty had seen her? He had been roaming the halls, after all. Maybe he had caught sight of her during his . . . well, whatever it was he had been doing. It was likely. It was . . . logical.

Spock was just about to open his mouth and ask, but he closed it shut just as quickly, thinking it foolish of him to ask about her. He had left her. He had no right to worry about her, or ask about her, no matter how much he still cared for her. Spock couldn't stalk her. He had to get over her. Asking Scotty about her would only lead to more problems. His human instincts would probably kick in again, and he would be up on his feet, chasing after her, only to realize his mistake and break her heart all over again. That's how it had been the past two times, and Spock didn't want there to be a third. There didn't have to be.

But why was he even thinking about her?

[LT. CMDR. MONTGOMERY SCOTT]

If Scotty had been sober, he might have been bothered by the fact that Spock didn't answer right away, but in his current condition, he was rather content to just sit there and admire the various seams between the paneling of the walls until Spock finally did say something, which proved to be a decent bit of time. It was true that, if Scotty had his choice of company out of anyone on the ship, Spock probably wouldn't have been in his top five, but the other man looked like he might have something on his mind. Judging from the state Scotty had found Uhura in, he could logically assume that to be the case, although he'd been mistaken before and could well be again. He wondered if he could sneak the flask out from behind his back and drink out of it without Spock noticing, and did not dismiss that thought nearly as fast as he ought to have if he'd been entirely in his right mind. Eventually he gave up on it, though, and looked back at Spock, who'd asked him what he'd been doing off in the night.

Well, he might as well have asked that question to the Vulcan to begin with, for all the good his caution had been doing. If he'd been more aware, he would have probably have realized that Spock wasn't really in the mood to talk to him, but as it was, he decided that what Spock really needed was some cheering up. "Oh, flittin' about here and there." he replied, evasively and undyingly cheerful in the same tone. "And what about you, la....commander?" He had decided at the last moment that referring to a superior officer as "laddie" probably wouldn't be the best course of action, and had caught himself in the middle of it. "Seems everyone's out and about tonight." he added, referring to his encounter with Uhura, although Spock, of course, could not have known that.

"And why not?" he went on. "It's a nice night. Why be shut up in your quarters when you can be out seein' the sights?" It was not really necessary to remind Scotty that every night was pretty much the same weather wise when you were on a starship, nor that the sights didn't change much either, but he was only trying to make conversation, and the longer her could talk about things that didn't concern his own activities, the better as far as he was concerned.

"Missin' your lady friend?" he asked, finally, hoping that maybe after the small talk he'd touched upon the crux of the issue. Maybe Spock needed someone to talk to as well, even if he didn't feel like it. "Well, cheer up. All you've got to do is go and see her, I could take you to her if you wanted, seein' as I just left her and all."

It was a perfect example of the flawless vision of hindsight when Scotty realized that telling Spock he'd just left the woman he might or might not be in love with, in the middle of the night, without any explanation as to why he'd been talking to her in the first place. Tilting his head to one side, he tried to determine what he could say to fix that particular error, and came up blank. Maybe a distraction. "But maybe you don't want to talk about that. Let's talk about something else. How about...tricorders?"

[arc]

Spock sat quietly throughout Scotty's ramblings, practically ignoring the man. He could care less why Scotty had been out and about during the night, or what he had to say about the “weather” and “seeing the sights”. None of it made any sense, and Spock wasn't really in any mood to talk nonsense with the obviously crazed man. Scotty probably thought it rude that Spock didn't answer him had he been in his right mind, but Spock doubted that. It still didn't register in that Vulcan mind of his that Scotty was drunk. Normally, Spock should have known the difference between a drunken man and a sober man, however best that man was trying to hide it. But not tonight. Tonight he wasn't paying any attention. Scotty could have went through his his plan to take a drink out of his bottle, and Spock wouldn't have noticed it.

Only when Scotty touched upon another subject did Spock look up. “Missin' you lady friend?” How did he know? The man's statement made Spock both curious and angry, all at the same time. He couldn't help but wonder how Scotty knew what he was thinking. But, then again, Spock didn't want to be reminded of Uhura. That only made things worse, and Spock found that when he was reminded of her, or thought about her, he had to try ten times harder to get her out of his mind. Scotty really hadn't done him any good by bringing her up at all. A part of him wanted to talk about Uhura, to find out where she was. Spock kept telling himself that that part of him was his annoying, human half. The other part wanted to walk away from Scotty, lock himself in his room, and forget about her. That was his logical, Vulcan half. Why was he so conflicted?

“Well, cheer up. All you've got to do is go and see her, I could take you to her if you wanted, seein' as I just left her and all.”

“What?” Spock raised his head again, finally saying something, even if it was just a single word. Scotty had triggered his human side, and now Spock wanted nothing more than to find out where Uhura was and chase her down . . . again . . . for the third time. If it hadn't worked the first two times, you would think that Spock would get over it. But he didn't, and he cursed himself for his impulsive, human-like instincts. He wouldn't say anything else about Uhura . . . He wouldn't say anything else about Uhura, he kept telling himself, but when Scotty changed the subject again, Spock couldn't help it. “Uhura. Where is she?” There. Now he'd done it. His illogical, human half had kicked in again, even when Spock had tried to prevent it.

Spock kept his head raised, studying Scotty like he had earlier. This time around, however, he was paying attention, and he came to the conclusion – yet again – that something wasn't right about the man. He was drunk. Spock finally realized it, but he didn't do anything about it. He could care less if the man was drunk. Either way, he was going to tell him what he wanted to know. And Spock really wasn't in the mood for berating officers, much less a man who was willing to help him. Spock was already feared by enough crew members on the Enterprise. There was no need to add anyone else on that list, as long as Spock could prevent it.

[LT. CMDR. MONTGOMERY SCOTT]

When Scotty looked back down from the ceiling at the man he was talking to, he knew that what he'd said last had finally reached him. Not that Spock was showing any more emotion than he usually did, but it was apparent that for the first time since Scotty had sat down, Spock had actually taken an interest in what he said, at least in the form of deeming it worth a response. Even if that response was only a 'what?'. Scotty smiled inwardly, in spite of the fact that he was probably going to have to now explain exactly why he'd been hanging out with Uhura in the first place. Maybe he wouldn't...Maybe Spock would just understand the logic of two crewmembers socializing on an otherwise largely abandoned ship. He was logical like that, wasn't he? That was what he was supposed to be, anyhow, seeing as he was Mr. Stoic Vulcan and all.

"Well, when I left her, Dr. McCoy was takin' good care of her." Scotty said. He thought that was the right answer - as far as he could remember, he'd left Uhura in sick bay, although the scotch could be clouding his mind, and he might just have left her in her quarters or something. One thing he knew, though, was that wherever he'd left her, it hadn't been lying on the floor in a corridor somewhere, so chances were she was better off than her Vulcan counterpart here. "What'd you say to her, anyway? She was all dru...er, torn to pieces about something or other, poor lass." He didn't want to pry, and that probably wasn't any of his business, but Scotty's manners were one of the things that went first when he was inebriated, and he was curious. He'd never been one to let his curiosity go unquenched. He wondered if Spock would be inclined to share the flask of scotch he had in his possession. Somehow, he doubted it, and at the moment, he wasn't willing to risk exposing his current condition just to get shut down with one of those raised-eyebrow 'are you kidding me' looks.

Scotty tilted his head to one side, then back to the other, deciding that the room did a lovely swaying thing when he did so. He did it again, several times, a little faster, then decided he better stop. "Do you want some scotch?" he blurted, suddenly. Well, so much for that decision. It seemed he was changing his mind as often as he was making it up tonight. He drew the flask out from behind it, and held it out to Spock. "It's quality, none of that cheap rubbish from Glasgow. It'll take the edge off. Have at it," he encouraged, waving the bottle in what he hoped was an appealing manner. He wanted to tell Spock that Uhura was experiencing the same thing, but he'd promised her that he wouldn't go spreading rumors about her being a lush. He hadn't said anything but that she was in sick bay, had he? Scotty rubbed his head. Thinking that hard hurt.

This whole situation was a little surreal. One moment, you were all alone, living it up doing routine diagnostics and having no social life whatsoever, and the next, you were playing liaison between the most dysfunctional couple in the universe. Well, maybe not the most dysfunctional, but they were probably on the top ten list. He couldn't imagine how Spock's parents had even survived their marriage, what with how Spock, who wasn't even one hundred percent Vulcan, seemed to have trouble dealing with Uhura. "Was your mother a much calmer woman?" he asked, obviously not realizing that might have been one of the most insensitive things he could possibly have asked about.

[arc]

Spock suddenly felt that the conversation had taken a turn for the worst, now that Uhura was the main topic. What exactly did Scotty mean by “Dr. McCoy was taking good care of her?” What had she gotten herself into? There was no telling, after what he had said to her. Spock had left her alone and distraught, and as unstable as she had been, there really was no telling . . . He sincerely hoped she hadn't hurt herself. He did care. He cared enough to chase after her and make sure that she was alright. But his Vulcan logic prevented any more rational decisions. Besides, he had already walked out of her life. There was no going back now. He still had the right to ask about her, though. Didn't he?

When Scotty asked what he had said to her, Spock lowered his head again, thinking back on the events that had occurred no more than two or three hours ago. Well, he had said a lot of things to her. Uhura had told him that she cared about him, even loved him, and he had turned her down for selfish reasons, leaving her room without another word. Uhura had told him that she cared about him, more than she ever thought she could, and he had ripped her heart out. “It would be . . . logical . . . for you to discard your feelings toward me.” That's what he had said to her, and it had broken her heart.

“So that's it, huh? It's illogical for me to give a damn so you want me to just shut it off? I'm not like you! I can't just turn it off! I guess that makes me inadequate! Because I feel! I'm sorry if I wasted my time trying to connect with you, loving you! I saw something in you, because I thought you were worth it. Because you weren't just a Vulcan half-breed to me. I saw a person, but obviously you think I was stupid for ever thinking it. And now I feel like a fool. A complete fool, and I hope you are happy . . . but then again, that would be considered a feeling wouldn't it?”

Spock remembered her words exactly. They had cut through him, deep, but he hadn't been willing to admit that to her. He hadn't been willing to tell her how he had felt about her. But should Spock really tell all of this to Scotty, or should he just keep it inside? It was probably best not to tell the drunken Scotsman. There was no telling what he would do with that kind of information.

“Spock please . . . Don't give up on me . . .”

Those had been her last words to him, before he had walked out of her room without saying anything. It had destroyed her, more than he had thought. If what Scotty said was true, Uhura was an emotional wreck because of him.

“Do you want some scotch?”

Spock snapped out of his reverie to find that Scotty was offering him a bottle of liquor. Normally, Spock would have rudely turned him down, scolding him for being drunk and carrying a bottle of scotch on his person. But tonight he really didn't want to get the man into any unnecessary trouble. After all, if what the man had said was true, he had been there for Uhura when Spock had not, and that meant something to the Vulcan Commander. “No, thank you,” he mumbled, waving away the bottle. Spock was glad that the conversation had strayed from Uhura for the time being. Thinking of her had physically wore him down. But the next topic of discussion was no better. Now Scotty was asking about his mother. Thinking of her was no better.

“What?” Spock questioned for the second time. This time around, however, his voice was harsh and angry. How could Scotty possibly think it logical to question the Vulcan about his dead mother? Was he really that out of it? Of course, he didn't say anything else, preferring to keep his mouth shut lest he have the urge to chew out the Lieutenant Commander for his behavior. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the man's question from his mind, and his human instincts kicked in again. ”What did Lieutenant Uhura say to you?”

[LT. CMDR. MONTGOMERY SCOTT]

Scotty had no intention of taking anything Spock said and writing it up in a gossip column, but then, he'd also had no intention of coming over here and acting like an insensitive assole, which just went to show that intentions weren't always what dictated the ultimate outcome. If he'd been completely in his right mind, he would have understood perfectly why Spock was so reluctant to share anything with him. But then, if he'd been completely in his right mind, maybe some of that reluctance wouldn't have been there in the first place. Ugh, that was confusing. Too many words. Too much to think about. He rubbed his head again, hoping the hangover wasn't going to kick in early.

Spock didn't seem excited about the scotch (not that he ever seemed terribly excited about anything, now that Scotty thought about it), so Scotty pulled the bottle back, screwed the cap off, and took a sip himself. Wasn't any sense in hiding it anymore, Spock was clearly aware that he was drinking by now, so he might as well enjoy himself while he was sitting here playing psychologist. He had a feeling that what Spock had said had probably been something he hadn't meant as horribly as it had come across to Uhura; it was usually that way with women, they tended to take things all the wrong way.

But Scotty couldn't imagine being in a relationship with someone whose very nature prevented them from expressing the way they felt about you. In all fairness, Scotty had very poor experiences with being in relationships anyway, but he couldn't imagine that any of them would have been any better if he'd refused to give the woman a smile, or ever tell her that he loved her. Spock seemed to be taking this whole affair pretty hard himself, if sitting alone in the middle of the hall with an even more somber expression than usual was any indication.

He didn't know if Uhura would want him to tell Spock all the things she said; Scotty knew that if they were going to patch this mess up, leaving out the insults she'd come up with would probably be a good idea. What of what she'd told him could Scotty pass on that would be likely to crack through that stoic exterior?

"Well," he began, hesitantly, "she seemed very sad." That was obviously a stalling technique while he tried to sort through the other contents of the conversation to find something that would be appropriate to share. "She seemed a bit worried that other people would think less of her for this, and there was a lot of self-beration, which honestly I thought was a bit concerning, seein' as she's usually so..." He trailed off - obviously Spock knew how controlled and together Uhura usually was, he knew her better than Scotty did, after all. "I think she's partially blamin' herself for fallin' in love with you."

In retrospect, mentioning Spock's mother had probably been a bad idea, and he was glad the Vulcan hadn't reacted in an overly negative fashion to it. They could just skim over that, pretend like he'd never said it and that would be quite fine with the engineer. The last thing he wanted was to end up having the opposite effect on this conversation than he'd intended, making Spock angrier instead of helping him out. "D'you love her?" he asked, curiously. Hopefully that was a pretty straight forward question, one that wouldn't be very offensive or out of line...maybe.