Leonard McCoy couldn't be blamed for bolting straight to the nearest bar after his latest fuck-up in the flight sim. Somehow, his argument that he was a doctor and not a pilot hadn't done much to impress his instructors. Well fuck them anyway; he'd pass it the next time around. Assuming there was a next time around.

Late nights at the tavern had become something of a habit lately, what with Jocelyn crowing about how the divorce had finally gone through, constantly comming him with some new angle to bitch about and a few choice insults to burn his ears. Two weeks since he had last spoken to his own kid, and it looked like Jocelyn might well be able to obtain sole custody and child support. Not enough that she'd taken the whole damn state of Georgia, she wouldn't rest until she'd turned Joanna against him too.

They had spoken earlier this afternoon just before his flight-sim, and didn't that woman just have the devil's own timing? Heaven knew she'd taken just about everything else; now she was trying to take his visitation rights permanently on account of his being half a continent away, and then presumably off somewhere on a ship. He'd wished her luck in the attempt, but now regretted the gesture; he could have used a little more luck himself and he'd just as soon she crashed and burned. Joanna had always been her daddy's little girl, his pride and joy; Jocelyn had no call to be meddling there, and he hoped Joanna raised Cain over it.

Yep; after all that, drinking just seemed like the most appropriate response. Which is why he was sitting in a run-down bar at half past midnight on Saturday morning when James Tiberius Kirk and his pack of devoted acolytes stumbled through the door, whooping and shouting and already calling for more booze though they looked drunk enough to begin with.

Had anyone bothered to ask Leonard McCoy what he thought of Jim Kirk at that moment, he'd probably have slurred something along the lines of "fuck off," it was his standard greeting nights like this. Privately he was thinking that the kids stumbling through those doors were a bunch of jackasses and hoping they would take their party somewhere else. Unfortunately, they had all settled at a few tables in the back, still braying like their namesakes and it looked like the servers were bringing them a few more beers to start their morning off right.

Len's glass clicked roughly against the counter as he gestured to the barkeep for another bourbon. It wouldn't be the first night he'd had to share the establishment with a few rowdy cadets, and it wouldn't be the last.

If Leonard H. McCoy had any sort of clairvoyant ability, he would have paid his tab and bolted right then, leaving his drink for any takers; being sadly lacking in the precognition department, he accepted another glass and tuned out the disturbance behind him in favor of wallowing a little more in self pity.

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Jim Kirk raised a glass with mocking solemnity, waiting until the noise died down enough for him to be heard over the din. "A toast to the clever bastard that programmed the Kobayashi Maru. May he-"

"What if it's a she or some other gender?" Gaila whispered a little too loudly, not half as sober as she thought she was. Jim shot her a quelling look before turning back to his audience. "May he enjoy this last victory."

A hearty cheer rose and Jim gracefully crumpled into a seat next to Gaila; she leaned into him, trying to catch his eyes. "You're really gonna try it again? Three times, Jim? You're insane; no one attempts it three times."

"Gimme time. I'll come up with something."

Having known Jim Kirk for two years now, intimately off and on, Gaila knew he most assuredly would come up with something. She had no doubt it would be spectacular in every sense of the word, a true master-stroke. It would probably also land him in front of a disciplinary committee, but tonight wasn't the night to remind him of that; he would have plenty of time to consider that on his own and plan accordingly.

Jim scanned the table, taking in the familiar faces with the air of a benevolent king smiling on his court; of course, had anyone bothered to say as much he would have been offended by the comparison, in his mind he was a minor deity at the very least.

Gaila rolled her eyes as his gaze lit on cadet Uhura, a cocky smile spreading across his face; she was quite possibly the only one here that had managed to keep Jim Kirk from her bed, and Jim was never one for turning down a challenge.

Gaila considered warning him her room-mate's tastes were a little more exotic, but he was off before she could decide whether she should violate the promise she'd given Uhura to keep her mouth shut. It would be more fun to watch him flounder anyway; his ego had already taken a beating this morning, it would be interesting to see how he reacted if it was thrashed twice in one day.

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Jim grinned as he settled into place beside Uhura; she of the ambiguous first name, dazzling smile and talented tongue. Tonight was a lucky night, the laws of average said it must be so given how nerve-wracking the rest of the day had been. If he couldn't talk that name out of her now, he'd never hear it.

"So I was thinking, about what I'm going to do this third time around you know, and it came to me: if I knew your first name, it would be one less thing to worry about during the test."

Uhura rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her Cardassian sunrise before she turned to smile sharply at him. "Congratulations. I didn't think anyone would be foolish enough to consider going for thirds after failing so abysmally the first and second time. Somehow, you always exceed my expectations."

"I'd hate to disappoint. Speaking of, you're a little sober, aren't you? Bad form, let me get you another drink."

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Kirk?"

"No. Yes. Maybe a little? 'In vino veritas', we could get drunk and play twenty questions. It'd be fun."

"No need to be tipsy for that. Here, I'll start; how long is it going to take for you to accept that not everyone wants a piece of Jim Kirk?" She smirked, crossing one leg over another as she leaned back against the table.

Jim stumbled back playfully, pressing a hand to his heart in shock. "Uhura, you wound me. Are you suggesting there is anyone in this bar that does not want a piece of the awesomeness that is James T. Kirk?"

"More than one, I'm sure. Not everyone wants a blond, blue-eyed playboy out for a little fun."

"See, now you're just being mean. I think you're just jealous cause you don't have one of your very own. All I'm saying is, I'm available."

Uhura shook her head, scanning the bar behind her. They both knew Jim would be bitterly disappointed if she ever actually took him up on his repeated offers; he needed a friend that didn't stand for his bullshit and he had found one in Nyota Uhura. She wasn't about to tell him just how not her type he really was, but after issuing a statement as blatantly false as that last she thought he could do with having someone turn him down.

The trick was finding anyone in this starfleet hangout that would pose a challenge. To most of them, he was pretty much the patron saint of Starfleet academy and the minute he turned those gorgeous baby-blues on them they would be hooked.

Finally her eyes settled on just the man, sitting at the bar downing his drinks with a single-minded intensity. She could practically feel his "Leave me the hell alone or suffer" vibes from across the floor.

"You think everyone wants you? Anyone at all, regardless?"

"You got someone particular in mind?" He turned to follow her gaze, lighting on the object of her regard.

"Oh, Hell Yeah. How did you know about my weakness for bad boys in leather?"

"Way too much info, Kirk."

"I guess I'll just head out then. Promise of better company, no offense."

"Don't be so sure." Uhura's smile turned wicked and if Jim had been thinking with his other head he might have realized that was Cause for Concern. "There's really no point if you don't stand to lose something."

"I do. My poor ego couldn't take another hit today; it would do terrible things to my fragile psyche. Failing the 'Maru, being turned down by the prettiest lady on campus and then striking out with jeans-and-leather? I'd be crushed."

"Not good enough. If you can't get him- and you won't- no sex for a month."

"Damn it, Uhura. I'm a red-blooded male with plenty of options available. No sex for a week is torture, and you want to make it a month? I'll surely perish."

"I don't suppose it matters since you're so sure you can't fail this one."

"It's the principle!"

Uhura shrugged, "Fine, if you're worried-"

"I win and I get your name." Right where she wanted him.

"I'll tell you my life's story, but only if you can trip him into your bed."

"Or the nearest available surface, or surfaces?"

Uhura waved a careless hand, "Details. You know what I mean. In fact, I'll even give you a hand up. That's Leonard McCoy, third year Starfleet medical student. I've heard he's having some trouble passing his pre-reqs."

"Met him once. On the shuttle." Kirk added, seeing her confusion. "Security knocked him out when he wouldn't buckle up. Neatest left hook I've ever seen. I didn't even recognize him; gotta say, he cleans up well."

"Are you stalling, Kirk?"

"Nope. Already gone." Kirk snatched the empty glass from her hand, artfully dodging her half-hearted attempts to snatch it back.

"You're just going to leave me here with your adoring fans?"

Jim glanced to the other cadets, already deep in their cups and flushed with good spirits. "I think you can make do without me. I'll see you tomorrow, don't expect me back."

"We'll see."

She waited until Kirk was halfway across the room before she hurried over to tell Gaila all the dirty details. Uhura was generally known for her discretion, but some things were just too good not to share.

Of course if Gaila knew it meant most of campus would know by Monday, but that was a sacrifice Uhura was willing to make.

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Leonard didn't bother glancing up when some kid hopped onto the stool beside him, tapping his glass pointedly until it caught the barkeep's attention; had to be one of the loud cadets, that part of the room had fallen silent a moment ago.

"I'll have whatever he's having." Leonard rolled his eyes; that wasn't a disaster in the making at all. Kid could get knocked on his ass by some concoction he wasn't expecting. Leonard swallowed the last drop of his own drink, pushing the glass away with what little was left of his self-control. It wasn't his habit to lose track of how much he'd had, but everything was blurring together tonight, and while he wasn't sure what number that glass had been, he was certain it was at least one too many. Probably several, which was a shame because he really didn't feel quite drunk enough to catch any sleep tonight.

As he pushed himself away from the bar the kid spoke again, and Leonard began to get the uncomfortable feeling that he was meant to be second half of this conversation.

"Are we leaving already? I just got here, and shouldn't you buy me dinner first? I feel so used."

Leonard frowned, the words just piercing his fogged brain. He turned slightly to see which unfortunate had decided to plague him tonight and blanched: Jim Kirk, the devil himself, didn't he belong somewhere in the center ring of that circus in the back? Glancing down the bar he could see that he was definitely the only one Kirk could possibly be addressing; damn, this day just kept getting better and better. Best not to answer him, or he might well become attached like some stray mutt begging for attention.

"Ouch. That hurt; just a little, though." Jim seemed to wilt in his seat before perking right back up again. Of course; that would have been too easy.

Leonard winced; if he was voicing his thoughts aloud this had already gone on too long and he needed to get the hell home.

"You could make it up to me by staying for another drink." Jim smiled disarmingly, running a fingertip over the rim of his glass with just a hint of a suggestive smirk playing about his lips.

"No thanks, kid. I'm tapping out." He owed at least that much after his unintentional comment, regardless of how common sense screeched at him to bail out before all was lost.

Melodramatic? Not at all, Len assured himself. He turned a little too quickly and stumbled over his own feet, wondering when exactly the floor had decided to tilt. Yes, his binge would definitely be better concluded in the privacy of his own dorm room where he wouldn't have to worry about getting home afterward. It might even be time to call it off and start hydrating; the hangover for this one was going to be a son of a bitch unless he could get his hands on a hypospray.

"Hey, no offense here, doc, but you're not looking too good." No offense was taken, the only thing Leonard heard was that 'doc', which beggared the question of how Jim Kirk, academy golden boy, knew anything about him.

"Doc?" Len murmured, turning back to really look at the kid for the first time. Any hint of playfulness had vanished from Kirk's expression to be replaced with something that resembled genuine concern.

"Doctor Leonard McCoy, right? Correct me if I'm wrong, but you were some kind of Super Surgeon, developed a neural tissue grafting procedure?"

It was more than a little alarming to think Jim Kirk knew anything about him at all, even if it was a matter of public record and fairly well-known. Pike's pet was supposed to be a playboy of the highest order; why should he know anything at all about… anything?

"I need to go." He was going to vomit everywhere, and soon; Leonard hurried for the door, hoping he could make it even that far. When had it got this bad? If he made it home in one piece he'd never drink again. Well, he'd wait for next weekend at least and maybe down a few glasses of water before heading out.

He might even have managed to make it outside with his dignity intact if Kirk hadn't tried to prop him up and hold him steady. If Leonard hadn't been far too drunk and already ill, he might have appreciated the gesture, as it was there was nothing he could do save double over and throw up all over what appeared to be a very good pair of shoes. Leonard squinted just to be sure. Yes, those had been very nice shoes, and probably never would be again.

"Fuck. I might have thrown up on you."

From somewhere above Len could hear a long-suffering sigh and a few murmured words; the next moment a cool glass of water was pressed into his hands. He lifted his head cautiously, waiting for the residual dizziness cleared before he took a sip. It nearly sent his stomach into an upheaval again and suddenly he was very grateful for another body to lean against.

"You want to take this outside?" Kirk's flirtatious tone was back in force, and Len very nearly turned him down for that reason alone, but he would just as soon be out of here before he lost what was left of his supper.

Come to it, had he even eaten supper? Lunch? He cast back, looking for a memory of his last meal. A bowl of grits this morning for luck just before he had spoken with Jocelyn. That explained entirely too much.

"Out." Was about all he could say without worrying that something else would come up with it, fortunately Kirk seemed to understand and cleared a path to the door.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea for Moses, naturally.

The winter air hit him like a kick in the gut, and he doubled over once more, face burning while he struggled to hold down something at least.

"You really can't hold your liquor, you know that?"

"Shut up." It was the best he could come up with on short notice, and it did the trick for a minute or two.

"Think you'll be able to make it back all right? I have a bike; wouldn't be any trouble to-"

Leonard turned a glare on him that had been known to send the bravest of men scrambling for cover.

Kirk only lifted his hands in a placating manner. "You need to get home; I have a way of getting home."

"I'd rather not end up with my brains spattered on the pavement because I was riding with some tipsy yahoo on his death-trap."

"Death-trap? She is a fine piece of machine, and who even says yahoo anymore, old man? Besides, I'm sober." Kirk looked him over pointedly, "Which is more than I can say for you."

"Damn." Was he really even considering this? If the alternative was walking back, which Len wasn't certain he could do at the moment, or waiting for a taxi, which could take well over an hour at this hour of the morning…

"Thanks." He mumbled.

"Is that a yes?" Shit; Kirk was beaming again. Jim Kirk beaming, Jim beaming, Jim Beam- Mind on the matter at hand!

"You want me to spell it?"

Jim arched an insolent brow, "Sure you could, old man? Do you even know your block and floor numbers?"

"Seventeen and none of your business."

"No way! I'm in nineteen. It's fate, Leonard. Leo. Len." Kirk wrinkled his nose in frustration, "Do you have a middle name or something?"

"Don't ask."

Kirk shrugged, "Well, it's not Tiberius. Please say it's not Tiberius 'cause that would just be too creepy."

"Are you always this talkative or do you just have it in for me?" As if to punctuate his point, Len swayed slightly, casting a nervous glance toward the bushes. Now that he had decided to climb onto that infamous cycle of Kirk's his gut was in all out rebellion again.

"Right. Shutting up."

He was talking again before Leonard even had a chance to breathe a sigh of relief. "So how'd you know about James?"

"James?" He couldn't hardly keep a thought in his head, but short of Kirk himself he didn't know any James.

"My bike." Kirk gave him a look that said clearly he was supposed to have known this.

"My god, you actually named it for yourself? Could you be any more narsh- nar-." He drew a breath, "Vain?"

Kirk giggled. He actually giggled. "Big words not coming so easy now? We better get a move on. I do not envy you your hangover tomorrow morning. Seriously though, it's a little creepy that you actually know that much about me. Stalking is so not sexy, and there's only so much I can forgive for tight jeans and that leather jacket."

"James T. Kirk." Leonard didn't bother trying to work his mouth around 'Tiberius'; he knew a lost cause when he met one. "Chris Pike's recruit. Parked your damn bike on the roof of the convocation hall last year."

"I'd actually forgotten about that one. Good a whole week before I paid for my own drinks."

"Failed the 'Maru for the second time this mornin'."

Kirk stopped and Leonard was hard pressed to keep from tripping into him; his eyes just felt too heavy to be open at this hour. Looked like he might actually get some rest tonight.

Kirk gestured to the sleek cycle in front of him. "Not a genuine classic, but she looks like it. You probably knew that." His voice was considerably more subdued than earlier, and Len began to regret adding that last comment.

He slipped reluctantly behind Kirk, for once not making any unnecessarily abrasive remarks as he grabbed a fistful of Jim's shirt.

"Look, kid. E'ryone fails it; heard someone talking 'bout it when I got out of my basic sim." Leonard snorted, "Failed that, if you b'lieve it."

He winced when the engine roared to life. No going back now; might have been smarter not to taunt his ride home. Joce had always said he'd cut his own throat with that sharp tongue one day, by which he took her to mean she would cut his throat if he didn't apologize every now and again.

No Joce, not now. If Kirk ended up killing them both her face would not be the last image in his head.

"Lucky for you, I was expecting company tonight. Even brought a second helmet."

Leonard fumbled clumsily with the straps, wondering just when his talented hands had decided to fail him. Kirk waited until he latched onto his shirt again before putting it into gear.

For his part, Leonard prayed harder during that twenty minute ride than he ever had in med school.

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Jim made an honest effort to keep his eyes on the road, but every now and again he would find himself taking turns a little too fast or weaving a tad too close to the other side of the road. Leonard gave a pretty good indication whenever he was doing either the former or the latter; a clenched fist in his shirt here, a shouted expletive right down his ear there.

Between failing the Kobayashi Maru, missing out on the festivities in his honor and bracing for another meeting with Pike Monday morning he really wasn't at the top of his game.

Captain Pike was a busy man, but Jim was convinced their charming little tete-a-tete was scheduled Monday morning for the sole purpose of ensuring he wouldn't get wasted Sunday night.

Jim could have told him no such precautions were needed; if he was going to challenge the test again then he needed to win. Preparation was key; just what he needed to prepare for, Jim wasn't sure. How he was going to beat an unbeatable computer he didn't know, but there had to be a way; there was no such thing as a no-win scenario regardless of what his instructors said to the contrary.

Speaking of no-win; it looked like he'd be going at least another month without learning the lovely Uhura's first name. A month without sex too. A wiser man might have thought that would give him a little extra leeway for his studies.

Jim prided himself on being clever rather than wise, and while he wasn't about to push Leonard tonight, having completely botched the first attempt with his ham-handed tactics, he found he wouldn't object too much to deepening the acquaintance. 'Glutton for punishment' might as well be a synonym for James Kirk, but grouchy drunk or not Leonard McCoy was going places; more importantly, it looked like he had come from as fucked up a place as Jim had, and that in itself made him interesting.

They were really going to have to do something about that name though; he couldn't keep calling the man Leonard. 'Leonard' was that science whiz with the glasses that was always getting bullied while he stood there and took it quietly until a teacher took pity and helped him out.

Leonard McCoy however, looked more like that kid that waded into the fray of bullies and kicked everyone's ass until he was dragged away shouting pithy insults at the top of his lungs.

Jim thought he could use a good friend like that, and if he could convince Uhura to stretch the bet out a little longer so much the better; friends with benefits would be a major plus. The trick would be convincing Leonard of that.

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This is my first Star Trek fic, concrit is always greatly appreciated!