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“C'mon c'mon c'mon!”
Jim spread his arms wide and herded his senior staff to the transporter pad. They were at Earth for a brief stay and Jim was determined to spend time with his senior staff together at one of his favorite dives. “We don't get shore leave everyday stop taking your sweet ass time.”
“The bar isn't goin' anywhere Jim.” Bones rolled his eyes though he did feel a little antsy to get to the bar. Felt vaguely like home.
When all of them stood on the transporter pad together, despite Scotty's protest about all of them beaming down together over the normal limit of transporter mechanisms.
“Scotty chill it's fine. Engage, ensign.”
The group of officers shimmered as the deconstruction began, and like that they were gone.
“Hey Johnny how you been?” Jim said with an ear to ear smile as he stepped into the hole-in-the-wall bar he had frequented as a daily customer before his drop-of-the-hat decision to join Starfleet.
“Jim! Never thought I'd see you again in this place.” Johnny grinned and set down the glass he was cleaning to go around the counter and slap Jim on the back. “What brings you back to Riverside?”
“Wanted to show my closest crewmates the bar that molded me into Starfleet's finest captain!”
“Whatever Jimmy. Who's your friends, introduce us!”
Jim stepped aside, the senior officers now standing together, checking out the nearly empty, dimly lit establishment and its few tables, few booths, and a billiard table. “Uhura, Spock, Scotty, Chekov, Sulu, and Bones.”
“McCoy.” Leonard corrected with a roll of his eyes.
“Nice to meet ya, I'm Johnny.” He gestured to the room with a smile. “Sit wherever you want.”
Jim looked around. “Mind if put those tables together?”
“Go for it. What'll you have?”
“We'll start off slow . . . A round of Tequila! And uh. . .” He looked over to his half-Vulcan first officer who stood rigidly, scanning the variety of alcohols on the shelf behind the bar. “. . .Whatever the chocolate equivalent of a shot is.”
-One Drink-
“Captain.”
“Tonight I'm just Jim!” Jim announced before he leaned closer to Sulu to hear what he had to say. “So how'd you and Johnny meet?” Sulu asked as he crunched on some peanuts. Uhura leaned in expectantly as well, reaching around Sulu to take some peanuts out of his bowl.
Jim looked off somewhere far away. “Was it school? Or. . .”
Uhura gave him a skeptical look. “You don't know for sure?”
“Well, we were also neighbors but in Iowa it's not like we were anywhere near each other.” He laughed. Across the table, Scotty was tutoring the young Chekov in engineering protocols with a messy napkin drawing.
“Now, if the coolant leaks anywhere near this,” He circled an area in the middle of the napkin. “all of these conduits are fried. Gone. Kaput!” Chekov nodded at Scotty's description. “If it does leak, what should I do to fix it?”
“Well first you should shut down the main reactor as fast as possible and. . .”
“Doctor, I believed you would be drinking a variation of brandy this evening. Is that not your preferred drink?” Spock quietly asked as he lifted his shot glass filled with liquefied chocolate to his lips.
McCoy frowned in a way that actually came across more like a pout. “Yeah it is. But Jim demanded to see what everyone was like with each drink, and threatened me not to go off on my own drink-wise.”
“You do not usually defer easily to the captain's wishes.”
“He threatened me with gettin' Starfleet to give me a bunch of medical interns and this seemed like a lot less trouble.” McCoy grumbled, obviously annoyed by the arrangement.
Spock simply raised an eyebrow and tilted his head back just enough for the rest of the chocolate to disappear quickly from the glass.
-Two Drink-
“A round of vodka mixed drinks this time!” Johnny said as he set a tray of shots into the middle of the table. “And one liquefied chocolate.” He set down the glass in front of Spock.
“Bottoms up!” Jim knocked back the vodka, exhaling loudly as it slid down his throat. The rest of the crew followed and picked at the fries Sulu had ordered for the table.
“How do you do it?”
“Do what?” Uhura said as she looked over at Chekov, who had moved to sit closer to the fries.
“The languages! How do you learn and retain so many?” Chekov asked excitedly.
Uhura turned to him, glad that for once someone didn't use her linguistic abilities as a pick up line. “Just think of it like the formulas physicists learn. You have to retain all of that and know how to apply them, it's the same with language.”
Chekov nodded thoughtfully, shoving three fries in his mouth at once. “That's true, does it work the same when you learn a language that. . .”
Sulu sat towards the middle of the table, stabbing a fry into the air with a smile. “See Jim? You have to thrust your hand like this! This is a proper fencing move.”
Jim nodded and copied the motion with his own fry, until he turned his arm and landed the potato in his mouth. “Nailed it! Hey where'd Scotty go?”
“Mr. Scott went to the lavatory.” Spock said simply to Jim before he turned back to McCoy.
“Spock, I'm telling you, transporters aren't safe! Just wait till those pointy ears of yours get lost in the pattern buffer!”
“Doctor if that were to occur, it would be more likely that my entire pattern would be lost.” McCoy's eyes rolled at that.
“You just don't listen dammit! How about if people get fused on re-materialization? You call that safe?! There's only so much that medical science can do, and separating fused DNA isn't exactly one of those things.”
“That is a highly unlikely situation, Doctor. The statistics of passing through a transporter unharmed are much greater than-”
McCoy threw his arms up in frustration. “I'm getting the next round.” He grumbled. “This isn't over.” He said, pointing a finger at Spock before he turned to the bar.
-Drinks Three & Four-
“I'm not feeling anything. Is anyone feeling anything?” Jim asked as they downed their respective rum and chocolate shots.
“Nah definitely not. “ Sulu said with a laugh as he slumped slightly in his chair. Scotty shook his head. “We all drink a lot captain! It'll take more than three wee shots to get us drunk!”
Spock raised an eyebrow as Uhura and Chekov joined the calls for more alcohol. Jim laughed and held his hand in the air. “Johnny! Let's pump this party up!”
Johnny nodded and got to work mixing a variety of colorful cocktails, the type that taste so good and promptly knock you on your ass. “Drink up!” Johnny grinned and set down the tray of drinks, slapping Jim's shoulder on his way back to the bar. Jim handed out the drinks to everyone, who started working on the fruity beverages faster than could be considered 'sipping speed'.
“Listen up listen up!” Jim said as he stood up, finished with his drink within five minutes of receiving it. There was a slight sway in his stance, though he hid it well. “Tonight is a night of friendship! Let's raise a glass!” He lifted his empty cup, Chekov giggling loudly at the action.
“To friendship!”
“To friendship!” Everyone responded in unison, even Spock, although quietly.
“I see you're gettin' into it Spock.” McCoy said with a smile as he sipped at his drink, a slight grimace on his face as he swallowed.
“I admit I am feeling a bit. . .” Spock gazed at his blended chocolate drink for a moment. “. . .Out of control of myself. Do you not like your drink, Doctor?”
McCoy's nose scrunched. “Nah. This sweet stuff isn't my style. I'm more of a brandy or a bourbon man. But, in the spirit of friendship and good company I'll suffer through it.” He chuckled a little, downing the last of his cup.
“That's it lass!” Scotty chanted as Uhura stood from her chair, her head thrown back as she chugged a mojito. She finished the cup and held her hands up in triumph, with Jim, Chekov, and Sulu shouting to serenade her victory. “Woo!” She shouted with a laugh and sat down, “Thats how to do it!” The entire table clapped.
“How fast can you chug one Hikaru?” Chekov leaned over. Sulu made a thoughfl expression, his eyebrows knitting together.
“Mm . . .I don't know.”
“Let's find out! Hey hey, let's have a competition!” He said to the rest of the table. “Whoever drinks the fastest wins!”
“What do we win?” Scotty leaned forward, suddenly intrigued.
“An extra day of shore leave.” Jim stated officially.
Everyone immediately became silent, eyes wide as they exchanged glances with each other. Scotty nodded with enthusiasm. “Well tha's it then! Another round here!”
-Fifth Drink-
Johnny stood watch over the table and paid close attention for the first person to slam their glass down. The liquid was steadily drained from each glass until one finally hit the table a good deal before anyone else finished.
“Spock?!” Jim exclaimed, forgetting the competition to look incredulously at his first officer. Everyone also stopped to look down the table at the Vulcan sitting less than perfectly in his chair.
“This drink is quite delicious.” He stated and locked eyes with Jim. “I believe I have acquired an extra day of shore leave.”
Jim nodded, still in shock. “Uh. . . yeah. . . of course. . .”
“Who knew Mr. Spock could down one so fast?” Sulu leaned into Chekov's arm slightly. Chekov shrugged.
“Vulcans have so many secrets. . . What if they all can drink like this? Maybe that's why no on ever sees a drunk Vulcan! He said quickly as his hands begun to gesticulate excitedly.
Sulu rested his arm on Chekov's shoulder and leaned in closer. “Hey hey, maybe Mr. Spock is feeling tipsy, check it out.” He pointed and Chekov's turned his head to look. “He's kind of leaning!” He whispered, and Chekov looked back at him to giggle not so quietly.
“Well, well. Look at ya' now Spock. Lookin' a little tipsy there.” McCoy's words were drawn out slightly longer than normal, deceiving his so called high tolerance, and Spock took notice.
“Doctor, you have stated before that you have quite a tolerance for alcohol, but your words are slightly slurred and there appears to be a reddish hue on your face.” He rested his elbow on the table and put some weight on it for support. He could tell that his control had loosened and his movements felt more fluid than he was used to.
“Everyone has a higher tolerance when they're sippin' on somethin'. I'm a brandy guy you just don' knock that back in one go! You have ta savor it. That's th' thing with drinkin' fast, gets ya drunk fast.” He said with a definitive nod, his accent thicker as the alcohol began to show its effects. “Guarantee ya that's why Jim is givin' us these drinks to gulp down.”
“To see us in an intoxicated state?”
“Yep that too. But the reason is prob'ly mostly that he jus' wants to have a good time with us.”
“Bones! You talking 'bout me?” Jim appeared and threw his arm over McCoy's shoulder. He looked at his long time friend long and hard for a moment. “You know, you have beautiful eyes. . .”
McCoy shrugged off Jim's arm. “Don't you start flirtin' with me again dammit! Go bother someone else!” He grumbled.
“Bones that was one time! Come on!”
McCoy shooed him away and turned back to Spock who was eyeing him with a raised brow. “Again, Doctor?”
McCoy sighed but nodded. “Yeah back when we first met. Almost had some kind of thing happen 'tween us but after the first pick-up line we both realized we were completely wrong for each other, though somehow perfectly suited to bein' best friends.” He laughed a little at the memory.
“He is right Doctor.” Spock said in a low voice as he leaned in closer to the doctor, though whether it was out of tipsy-ness or on purpose McCoy could not tell. “You indeed have aesthetically pleasing eyes.”
McCoy's face bloomed bright red though he tried to maintain his composure. “You're drunk already aren't ya.”
Spock simply raised an eyebrow.
“Captain-”
“Jim.”
“Fine, Jim. I gotta bone to pick wit ya.” Scotty pulled Jim down to sit in the chair next to him. “You've gotta stop pushing the Enterprise so hard! She's a beautiful lady that deserves pampering, not the constant bettering you put her through!”
Jim said nothing, only nodding until he slowly raised his hands to Scotty's face and held the engineer's face between his palms. He looked deeply into Scotty's eyes before he promptly slapped the right cheek playfully and simply walked away. Scotty rolled his eyes and looked down at the table a bit sadly. “I'm sorry lassie, I'm trying my best to look out for ya. . .”
“Did you say something Scotty?” Uhura said and sat down in the chair Jim had vacated.
“Where've you been?”
“I was talking to Johnny about what kind of guy the captain was before we had met him, but turns out he was the same way then as he was when we met.” She rolled her eyes. “Such a ladies man.”
“Well I wish he'd show some interest and love for my sweet lady! She's only the grand dutchess that carries his ass around space!”
Uhura laughed and patted his shoulder. “Ok ok, you need something to perk you up. No negative emotions tonight!” She pointed over his shoulder to the pool table. “You in?”
“Oh you're on lass.”
-Drink Six-
“Vashau dungi gla-tor-du.”
Uhura stood proudly with a pool cue, eyeing Scotty from across the table as she sipped on a Cardassian Sunrise. He looked at her with an unimpressed expression as he finished chalking the head of his cue and nodded, gesturing to the perfectly arranged balls. “I can't understand you, can't you speak in standard?” He sighed. “You want to break lass?”
She glared at him from across the table and held out her cue far enough to poke Scotty in the chest.
“Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam.” She growled and leaned over, breaking the triangle harder than was probably necessary. Scotty jumped a little at the force as he sipped a 15 year old Glenfidditch that Johnny had brought him to hide his sudden fear towards the Comm officer.
Jim approached from behind Scotty and clapped him on the shoulder. “Scottayyyyyyy!!!” He shouted in his on-the-verge-of-drunk-state. “You playing pool? Uhura!” He moved to lean on the pool table and wagged his eyebrows. “How's it goin'?”
Uhura glared at him from where she was leaning over the table to line up a shot, the eye contact full of raging fire with a twinge of murderous intent. Jim straightened up immediately and backed away slowly, unable to drop his gaze. “I'll uh. . . I'll be over there.” He spun around and practically ran off, leaving Scotty to try not to laugh so hard the whiskey would come out of his nose.
“Yeah it's just so. . .Fascinating you know? To just see something bloom after you've spent so long caring for it. . .” Sulu looked up at the ceiling before looking back to Chekov. The two were sitting at the bar facing each other, both drinking Risan wine.
“I'm sorry Hikaru I can't relate. . . I'm so bad with plants.: Chekov admitted, blushing slightly. He moved his hands to his lap and looked down at them, a few tears spilling down his cheeks.
Sulu leaned in closer and took Chekov's clasped hands in his. “Hey, hey Pavel don't worry about it! We have different interests, that's ok, then we can talk more and learn new stuff.” Sulu smiled and Chekov beamed right back.
“Yeah you're right!” He sniffled and lifted his glass. “To new stuff!”
“To new stuff!” Sulu grinned, his cheeks slightly red when he looked across his glass and met Chekov's gaze.
Jim walked up to them and stared back and forth between the two as he sipped on a beer. When it became apparent that neither of them had noticed him, he loudly cleared his throat. “So uh,”
Chekov tore his eyes away from Sulu's, “Can I help you captain?”
“Jim.”
“Yes, Jim, sorry capt- Jim.”
Jim looked disappointed when Chekov and Sulu continued to glance at each other despite attempting to focus on him, obviously not interested in a genuine conversation with him. “Forget it.” He sighed and walked away. Sulu leaned in close to whisper something in Chekov's ear, and the blush that bloomed on his entire face could be seen from across the room.
“Look at that,” McCoy pointed at the two at the bar with a hand holding a short glass of rich, blue Andorian ale. “Youthful love.” He slurred with a sigh before he looked over to Spock. “It's sickening.”
“You appear to be smiling despite your choice of words.”
McCoy hadn't entirely realized that the corners of his lips had turned upwards. He looked thoughtful for a moment, leaning back and forth with the warmth of alcohol spreading to his limbs. “The feelin's at the beginnin' of a romance are like that, so sweet, but when ya' get old an' cynical like me an' look in on it from th' outside,” he took a sip of the drink, “t's just too sweet. Agh. . .” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand and leaned back in his chair. “Why're ya' here anyway? Never pegged ya' as th' type ta' get drunk in a bar at th' request of yer captain.”
Spock flinched and took a bite of the chocolate bar Johnny had served him in an attempt to cover the reaction. He lazily chewed and his head lolled a little towards McCoy. “The captain threatened to reveal something. . .personal if I was not present.”
McCoy's eyebrow lifted in a way that he figured mirrored Spock's most frequent expression. “Personal huh? Ya' got a dirty little secret?” He nudged Spock with his elbow, leaning in a little more than he intended as he felt the world tilt with him.
“If you must use that phrase, yes.” Spock blinked, his eyelids opened and closed more slowly than the precise movement he was used to.
“So what's it? Your relationship with Uhura isn't really a secret an' I'd think romance would be th' most private thing for a Vulcan. . .”
“Nyota and I have terminated our romantic involvement.”
McCoy looked down at the floor. “Sorry, didn't know. . . but why's that so private that Jim would hold it over your head?”
“It is not. . .” Spock fiddled with the wrapper and McCoy watched as cheeks and the tips of his ears turned green. He had never seen Spock so tongue-tied in his life, though it could have been the alcohol. If he was bordering on drunk as a heavy drinker, Spock was definitely well into intoxication. “That is not. . .” He took another bite of the bar, a big one this time.
“Hey take it easy, you don' hafta say anythin'.” McCoy rubbed his shoulder and Spock's eyes widened at the touch. He looked at the hand just a centimeter and a half away from his skin, already feeling the heat seeping through his shirt and undershirt. He leaned into the touch without entirely realizing that he had done so.
“Doctor-”
McCoy stopped him when he held up a finger and stared drunkenly at Spock in a way he intended to be intimidating. “Leonard.”
“Leonard, I understand this is a highly illogical statement, but is the floor slowly moving sideways? I have this sense of leaning. . .” He trailed off and leaned further towards McCoy.
McCoy laughed loudly and scooted his chair closer to push Spock further upright. Their legs slid against each other with the motion, and McCoy cleared his throat to distract from the blush he knew had risen to his cheeks. “That's th' chocolate workin'.”
“At this level of intoxication it is difficult to think precisely, and in the absence I am simply experiencing sensations. Fascinating.” He said, staring not-so-subtly at the way their legs had somehow become tangled. Spock's face turned darker green and he shook his head in the hope that maybe it would shake the blush away.
“When ya' can't think, all that's left is ta' feel.” McCoy grinned and fished the round ice sphere out of his empty glass. “Check this out.” He turned Spock's hand so it was faced palm-up and touched the ice to the middle of Spock's hand. Spock nearly jumped in his seat with a small gasp, eyes wide and both eyebrows practically disappeared underneath his hairline.
“It is cold and also so smooth. . .” Spock trailed off, his already sensitive hands experiencing a new type of feeling from the effects of his intoxication. McCoy pulled the ice away and dropped it back in the empty cup, rubbing his hand over where the ice had rested. Spock's eyelids fluttered as the doctor's warm hands replaced the cold, and the doctor's emotions seeped into his mind. There was so many colors, and he wished to understand them, though in his current state he could not get past the soft fingertips gliding over his palm.
McCoy felt something new when he touched his fingers to Spock's palms. It felt as though someone else was with him, that Spock was with him. Not just sitting next to him, but on a deeper level that McCoy couldn't put his finger on or really understand.
The contact was broken when a blond head appeared between them and dealt a swift, simultaneous slap to both McCoy and Spock's backs. “What's with everyone tonight? Is there something in these drinks? Johnny! What'd you put in these drinks?” He slurred, leaning the majority of his weight on the others. Johnny rolled his eyes but laughed quietly to himself anyway.
“What're ya talkin' 'bout Jim.” McCoy placed a hand on his chest to keep him from falling between them onto the table.
Jim pointed at Chekov and Sulu, whose hands were on each other's thighs and arms and whispering things into each other's ears. “Those two wouldn't even tear their eyes away from each other long enough to. . .um . . . um”
“Talk to ya?”
YES! That.”
“What's that gotta do with th' rest of us?” McCoy asked with a sigh. He had been having such a pleasant. . . no, such a great time. The kind of time that didn't come around every day. Spock nodded and raised an eyebrow, curious about that as well.
“Well Uhura is. . . An angry drunk, didn't expect that. She only looked at me and I felt so suddenly cold I couldn't handle it. Scotty is normal I guess, he's hard to read, but I guess he's a 'super into pool' drunk.”
“Again, what's that gotta do with us?”
“You're all wrapped up in each other!” Jim groaned, stamping his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “Hey!” He said suddenly and threw his arms around their necks to squeeze them all closer together. “It's actually good you guys are getting so close, but I guess that means I can't blackmail you into doing stuff with me anymore.” He leaned closer to Spock with that statement. “Congratulations! I guess you can credit this,” he gestured between them, “to my matchmaking skills. But it sucks too you know, feels like I'm the only one not hooking up with someone tonight.”
Spock's eyes were wide as his jaw dropped, an expression that had never appeared on his face to such a degree in his entire life. His face was completely green all the way down his neck and up to his ears. Jim patted their backs with a grin and pushed himself away before he stumbled his way back to the bar.
Spock stared far away with the same shocked expression on his face, and if McCoy wasn't staring directly at Spock's face in the same amount of shock his medical instincts would have probably already kicked in to make sure Spock hadn't died.
“S-Spock?” He sputtered.
“Yes, Leonard?” Spock asked softly, his voice trembling.
“What's Jim saying? Do ya have feelin's for . . .me?
“Yes, Leonard.” His voice barely a whisper, still staring into some point in space. He shoved the rest of the chocolate bar into his mouth and stood, swaying so much he stumbled and had to catch himself on the table for support. “I must use the lavatory, please excuse me.” He turned uneasily when he felt that warm hand grab his wrist. Before he could entirely process what had happened, he was spun around and soft lips were suddenly on his. McCoy's hands went to gently cup his cheeks, bringing Spock out of his surprise enough for him to lift his hands to McCoy's waist.
McCoy's head was swimming and he was almost entirely sure that it wasn't the ale he had been sipping on. He had thought about it, more than a little, actually quite a lot, though if he was honest he thought about how much he liked Spock all the time. When they bickered, when he went onto the bridge and Spock was sitting at his station (or really was anywhere in his vicinity), when he was drifting to sleep and the only person he wanted near him was the first officer, and when he was scared shitless as Spock came back from an away mission with heavy injuries and McCoy worried that one day he wouldn't be able to save him. Though he of course noticed the closeness Spock and Jim had and he figured they had something going on. Internally, McCoy had a constant insescurity that he was unloveable in that romantical kind of way. Probably because of his messy divorce that left him stuck in space and cynical of any relationship. Yeah that was definitely it.
The two stood there for a long moment until the need for air became too great. They broke apart, McCoy's thumb rubbing Spock's cheek. His face was flushed red and Spock's blushing green, simply staring at each other until Spock opened his mouth to speak. “May we go sit somewhere more private?” McCoy looked around and realized they were just standing in the middle of the room. He nodded and place his hand at the small of Spock's back as he guided them to a booth in a corner of the room. They both stumbled a little to the booth, flopping down roughly onto the cushioned seat.
“Leonard.”
“Yeah, Spock?”
“Do you also have feelings for me?”
“Yeah, Spock.” McCoy slumped over, his forehead on the table in an attempt to hid his blush. He felt like a teenager experiencing his first crush. “I don' know how it happened but I do.” He murmured. Spock leaned forward onto the table and looked to the side to try and meet McCoy's eyes.
“It seems we reciprocate each other's feelings.”
“Seems so Spock.” McCoy moved his head to the side so he was looking back at Spock.
“Would you like to kiss again? I found the sensation to be. . . incredibly enjoyable.”
“Talk dirty ta me Mr. Spock.” McCoy grinned and lifted Spock's chin, pressing their lips together hungrily. Spock pressed himself further against McCoy, pushing them down until they were laying against the cushions of the booth. McCoy steading them with his hands of Spock's waist as the commander laid on top of him. Neither of them really noticed much when they rolled onto the floor, their actions seemingly more private on the floor beneath the table.
-Drink Seven-
At five a.m., Johnny began to clean up his prized bar. The glasses were mostly clean, except for the few being used by Jim's friends, and the counter mostly clean, except for the area where Uhura was singing “Shevok'tah gish” over a pint of classic Budweiser. She waved the cup around, drink spilling out with each line of the song. When Johnny had asked what she was singing, she responded with 'A famous Klingon opera' (the first words in standard that she had said in hours) before returning to the hard guttural tones of the Klingon language.
Another song took his attention away from Uhura's drunken signing. He looked over by the karaoke machine where Scotty appeared to be. . . sobbing while singing 'Summer lovin'' from that old movie Grease. Johnny scoffed to himself, shaking his head as he grabbed the broom to finish cleaning up. “There's always at least one crier.” He said to himself.
As he swept and rearranged chairs, working his way across the floor, he came to the pool table where Sulu had fallen asleep spooning Chekov on top of the table amidst the solid and striped numbered balls. Johnny didn't even know when that one happened, but it was five a.m. and he didn't really care enough to break them up like he would with other customers. Besides, they were Jim's friends, and the two were just starting out. He remembered his first romance fondly and seeing Chekov and Sulu had reminded him of those nice days.
He made it to the middle of the room where the group had started, and went to rearrange and separate the tables when he found that one of them wouldn't budge. With a quick glance under the table, Johnny found Jim hugging not only the table support but also a bottle of Jack that Johnny didn't know he had taken. Jim looked so peaceful, sleeping on the floor like that, and Johnny couldn't help himself from digging a marker from his apron. He snickered evilly as he drew a curly mustache on his childhood friend, and then walked away, leaving Jim there.
“Wasn't there someone else. . .?” He murmured. Though he didn't wonder for very long as a soft moan hit his ears, his head whipping around at the sound. Underneath the table was the Vulcan and the rough looking doctor that Jim treasured as his best friends, heavily making out. Johnny stared at them incredulously, but shook his head and did nothing.
He groaned and went back to the bar before he poured himself a large mimosa. “The things I do for an old friend.” He smiled, raising the glass to his lips.