Author's Note: For those of you unfamiliar with your beer, that contest was so unfair because Sam Adams' Triple Bock has an alcohol content of about seventeen percent, while Budweiser's is about five percent. Couple that with the fact that Kirk is younger and fitter, AND that McCoy had a decent head start, it was never really much of a contest to being with. Sucks to be the doctor, don't it?

As McCoy might say, "Good god, man!" I really, really did try to keep this to a ten page one-shot. But, I have this somewhat psychotic need to connect everything and make it flow. Then, Pike decided he wanted a bigger role in this story, and he wouldn't shut up until I acquiesced. I mean, the man's an Admiral, so it's not like I can say no. Now, without further adieu, chapter 2, otherwise know as the, "Morning after the night before." Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Nothing recognizable is mine. I own just a very overactive muse and a whacked sense of humor, neither of which you'll get if you sue me.

Chapter 2

Captain Christopher Pike walked briskly into his office at 0600. Like most Wednesday mornings, he started early with a cup of coffee (regular, of course), a bagel (plain, extra cream cheese), and the latest news from the Federation on the video feed while he skimmed the various academic and discipline reports from the past week. Beginning with the mundane, Pike looked over progress reports from the cadets who were in the clutches of academic difficulties. He divided them into two piles: those showing progress, and those who needed a swift kick in the ass.

The next step was reading all the behavior reports from the various MPs and resident advisors throughout the campus. He sighed. The end of the semester usually meant one of two things: one, the level of needed discipline would plummet because classes were through, or two, the level of needed discipline would rise sharply simply because classes were done. There never seemed to a third direction. Mostly, the reports ranged from the mundane fight to the hilarious odd occurrence, and back to the strictly unbelievable. The only thing each incident had in common was that they all generally made Pike shake his head in disbelief at the rampant stupidity among some of the universe's brightest minds.

Digitally thumbing through the reports, Pike glanced over the regulation broken and the cadet's name. Most were first time incidents and likely to never to be punished again, but others were repeat offenders, some on their respective ways out the door. Like the academic discipline reports, Pike divided the incident summaries into two categories as well. The cadets who'd never had trouble would get the requisite 'Come to Jesus' lecture to scare them straight; the habitual troublemakers would likely not be so fortunate. Strangely, the Captain didn't see a discipline report mentioning James Kirk once. That in and of itself was an odd occurrence, but perhaps the cadet was turning over a new leaf.

Pike internally rolled his eyes. Kirk will keep himself out of trouble when hell freezes over. 'You'll do well to remember that you brought him here, Chris. If he's a pain in your ass, whose fault is that?' he mentally questioned himself.

Halfway through the list, Chris literally spit out his coffee and dropped the PADD in total shock. Cursing, he picked the small device up and wiped it with a napkin from his morning bagel. The screen clear, Pike looked again. The name and the infractions remained the same.

'McCoy, Leonard H. Infractions 601.24 and 587.59. Cadet escorted to brig for observation and possible medical assistance.'

With gentleness he didn't normally display, Pike put the PADD down on his desk. He leaned back in his chair and laced his hands together behind his head. Mentally, he checked the regulations and the associated numbers for the fifth time. Pike knew the regs like the back of his hand, and had, in fact, memorized them. There was no way he could be wrong, but then how could that report be right? 'Public intoxication and…streaking?' the captain thought.

A deep ridge formed on Pike's face, the man deep in thought. This had to be some sort of a joke. The captain knew that both McCoy and Kirk were sources of envy around campus when compared to the other cadets. Most coveted Kirk for his charm, wit and as it turned out, his brains, and McCoy because of the MD already attached to his name. Both men had done exceptionally well in the past two years, placing at the top of their class in their respective fields, despite the appearance that they were both aloof and uncaring. Apparently, one of the side effects of doing well was unwanted, unwarranted, jealous attention.

Kirk, the people person, had very little trouble deflecting the negativity. Those who couldn't be dissuaded by his charm ultimately met the business end of his fist or his intellect. The introverted doctor, on the other hand, hadn't been so fortunate. A solid decade plus a few of years older than most of the cadets, Bones had very little in common with his peers. He also didn't go out of his way to try and get to know them on anything more than a passing familiarity or in a professional sense. Add on top of that the fact of McCoy's wonderfully stunning personality, and it equated to quite a bit of hazing from the student body. Perhaps this was just another attempt to smear what was McCoy's exceptional record through the mud, and to be completely honest, Pike was sick of dealing with the juvenile entrapments of a few jealous cadets.

The captain hit the comm button on his speaker.

"Yes, Captain Pike?" Gloria Stuart, Pike's yeoman answered.

"Could you get Commander Rowe in here please?"

"Right away, sir. What can I tell him it's regarding?"

"Just tell him I need to see him about a discipline report he filed early this morning."

Ten minutes later, a young commander in Academy black stood in front of Pike's desk. His expression feigned a forced neutrality and professional calm. A deeper look revealed a nervousness in his eyes, one which said he didn't know what warranted being dragged into a captain's office this early on Wednesday morning, especially when he'd just come off duty for the night. The young man was worried, plain and simple. Before he could let any more of his emotion leak through his facial expression, Rowe composed himself and asked, "What can I do for you today, sir?"

Pike held up the PADD with Rowe's report. He was not in the mood for this crap this early on Wednesday morning, though he couldn't imagine what anyone would have on the Academy's Chief of Security large enough to rope him into helping on this particular stunt. Tossing the PADD to Rowe, Pike asked, "Is this report accurate, Commander? Because if this is some idea of a joke, I swear I will shove your head out your ass so fast, you won't even have time to smell your own shit."

The young Commander analyzed the angry expression on Pike's face and wisely bit his tongue to cut off the indignant remark he felt coming on. Instead, he took the PADD to read the report. Rowe's brows furrowed as he read and he shook his head back and forth. His expression darkened briefly before taking on a neutral quality once again. Before he spoke, the Commander raised his eyes to make contact with his superior. "No joke, sir. Everything in the report is completely accurate and personally witnessed by not only my team, but myself."

Leaning in on his elbows, Pike narrowed his eyes. Though his anger had ebbed, he still wanted to be very, very clear. "Son, you mean to tell me that every event, place, time and most specifically, every name, is correct?"

"Yes, sir. Of course, sir."

The captain's gaze was incredulous. "Leonard McCoy," Pike began, "Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy, the man who I thought had a three foot long rod wedged permanently up his ass for the last two years, got drunk and went streaking through campus last night?"

Rowe nodded dumbly. "I couldn't believe it, either, sir. When we finally stopped him, he almost got away from my team and me because we were all so shocked when we figured out who it was." The nervous man looked down at his feet, clearly uncomfortable. "And then we discovered the doctor is stronger than he looks, sir."

"Well, considering the man nearly failed hand to hand, I'd suggest you go over a refresher course with your people. If a guy who needed Jim Kirk's barroom brawling expertise to pass a basic self-defense course could inflict this much damage on them, maybe you're not doing something right" Pike admonished. "They need to learn to treat every situation individually, and not to go into a fight with preconceived notions about the skill of their opponent."

"Yes, sir. I've already written out a training schedule to address that issue. There will not be a repeat of this, Captain. On that, I can assure you," Rowe succinctly replied, clearly embarrassed that his people were bested by a doctor who could barely fight his way out of wet paper bag a year previous.

Pike shifted leaned back in his chair, resting his chin on his fist. He believed Rowe. The man had an excellent reputation as an MP and his expressions and actions were genuine. The captain felt a bit of a smile begin to tug at his face and the laughter start to form in the pit of his stomach. He stamped both urges down as quickly as they came, for he would not laugh in the presence of a subordinate, especially when it could be potentially damaging to another cadet's ability to lead.

Schooling his features to passivity again, Pike lowered his voice and said, "All right, Commander. I believe you. Thank you for the report. You're dismissed."

"Sir." Rowe straightened up to attention and about-faced to walk out the door.

As soon as the door to his office clicked closed, Pike gave in to urge that was threatening to boil over. "Well I'll be god dammed," Pike said, tossing the stylus on the desktop. The laugh started as just a bubble of a chuckle rising up to the top, its escape unintentional. But before long, the Academy Captain found himself clutching the PADD detailing McCoy's outlandish night and laughing his ass off.

After a beat to calm himself and to wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes Pike hit the comm button again. "Gloria, get me the brig and tell them to send Dr. McCoy over here. An escort isn't necessary. I trust him."

"An escort?" A pause. "Sir, doesn't Dr. McCoy work over at the hospital?"

"Yes, he does, but right now he's a guest of the brig, not an employee. Can you see that he makes his way over here, please?"

Gloria stuttered. "Guest of the- Ye-Yes, sir."

The captain smirked as he imagined the obvious befuddled look that was likely all over his yeoman's face.

Pike busied himself by reading the rest of the reports while he waited for the doctor to show up. He found that he had to physically suppress the urge the laugh and smile when his brain inadvertently rolled back to his latest source of amusement. The report was simply too funny and Pike only hoped he could hold it together long enough to keep himself from literally laughing in McCoy's face. It was always the quiet ones that surprised the hell out of him, and Leonard McCoy was turning out to be no exception.

It was in those few minutes of waiting during which Captain Christopher Pike came to the conclusion that, sometimes, being the resident Starfleet Academy Czar of Discipline wasn't such a boring job after all.

Consciousness came back to McCoy slowly, his brain still fuzzy and sluggish. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and could hear the blood rushing through his veins. The doctor knew he was lying on the ground, for the cold of cement seeped through his skin and down to his core. Slowly, he cracked one eye open, only to be rewarded as the sunlight tried to viciously stab a hole through the back of his skull. Snapping his eyes closed again, McCoy heard a distant, strangled moan. It took him a second to realize the moan came from him.

Bones flexed his fingers and wrists. He was apparently lying face down on his stomach, one cheek resting on the cement. McCoy felt some wetness around the corner of his mouth and realized embarrassingly that his cheek was submerged in a puddle of his own drool. Gingerly, he lifted his head off the cement and chanced opening his eyes one more time. When he was relatively certain that his brain wasn't trying to escape through his ears, Bones opened his eyes fully.

This did not look like his dorm. In fact, this didn't look like any room on campus he'd ever seen, and that included the inside of the hospital. Moving his eyes and his eyes only, McCoy took stock of his surroundings. The room was small with no carpeting, perhaps eight or ten feet square. There were two large benches affixed to each wall with a stainless steel toilet and freestanding sink on one side. Off to Bones' right he saw a set of archaic metal bars running from floor to ceiling and-

Oh, shit.

McCoy's listless brain finally caught up with what his eyes were seeing. This was the brig. If he'd had the energy, Bones would have slapped himself in the face right then and there. Instead, he settled for rolling over on his back with a grunt. The sudden movement of turning 180 degrees threw off his already shaky equilibrium and for a few moments, the world spun nicely. However, his stomach chose that particular moment to revolt, and McCoy found himself scrambling on all fours toward the toilet. He shoved his face in and heaved up everything he ate or drank the night before, which included, apparently, a large portion of the San Francisco bay. Wait. Since when did the Bay smell like booze?

Bones, spent after his visit to the porcelain, no metal, god, scooted back to lean up against the wall. The bench looked infinitely more comfortable and probably a bit cleaner to boot, but it was too much work to get up that far. Instead, he rested his arms on his knees and his head on his arms.

What the hell did he do last night? For the first time, McCoy realized that he most certainly was not wearing the clothes he left his dorm in. He hadn't been wearing his uniform at the bar, but he certainly didn't go out in a pair of drawstring sweatpants and a t-shirt. And from his experience with treating patients straight from the brig, unless the garments presented an immediate a biohazard, cadets didn't necessarily need a change of clothes to sober up.

Before he could ponder the missing chunk of his memory any further, the bars slid open and one large cadet, the one Jim so lovingly nicknamed "Cupcake" in the now-infamous Iowa bar, stepped forward into the cell. Nudging McCoy with his foot a bit harder than necessary, he grumbled, "Let's go, sunshine. Get up. We got places to be today."

"Yeah, yeah. Give me a minute." McCoy glared, the larger man towering over him. When Cupcake reached for the doctor's arm, Bones pulled it back. "Dammit, man! I'm fairly sure I didn't forget how to stand up. I don't need your help."

Cupcake shrugged, clearly bored and irritated. "Suit yourself."

McCoy used the wall and literally hauled himself up to standing. He blinked hard a couple of times to keep the world from spinning even more; though, at this point should he have to revisit the toilet, it would just be dry heaves. Licking his dry lips, he asked, "Where are we going?"

Cupcake grunted and led the doctor out of the cell and down the hall. Once outside, he looked McCoy up and down. The smug sneer was evident on his face and dripped from his tone. "Pike's office. He needs to see you about something."

McCoy growled. The day just kept getting better and better.

Exactly seventeen minutes after Rowe left his office, a very bewildered yeoman opened the door to present one Leonard Horatio McCoy for Pike's inspection. Pike smelled the doctor before he saw him. When Gloria let Bones into his office, the captain purposely kept his head down, staring at a few strategically placed reports spread out on his desk for effect. Out of his peripheral vision, Chris saw McCoy do his best to come to attention and look professional, though his appearance and demeanor were anything but. The doctor tried valiantly to keep his nervous fidgeting to a minimum in front of his superior; Pike was on the fence as to how well that going for the man.

Setting down his stylus, Chris finally looked up. The doctor was indeed quite a sight, and Pike had a momentary flashback to when he'd first recruited McCoy straight off a bar floor in Iowa. Like two years previous, the doctor's clothes were dirty and disheveled, he was unshaven and was sporting a slightly crazy expression. Unlike then, however, he now had scratches running up and down his arms and his left cheek had a nice cut on it with a matching gash on the bridge of his nose. McCoy's eyes were dull and bloodshot, the undersides of which were accompanied by large, dark, puffy bags, signifying his lack of sleep. Bones' hair was sticking up in every conceivable direction, and most of all, the man simply stank.

Pike raised an eyebrow. All in all, it must have been one hell of a good night. Finally speaking, he settled on, "Jesus Christ, McCoy. You smell like a distillery."

The muscles in the doctor's jaw flexed. Pike wasn't sure if that was from embarrassment, or if the man was just trying not to spew all over the Captain's office. He'd sincerely hoped, for his office décor's sake, it was the former.

"Noted, sir."

"Do you want to tell me what happened last night?" the captain started.

The doctor's features flickered. "I," McCoy began. He stopped and wavered in place.

"Yes…," Pike encouraged. He'd never known McCoy to be shy with his thoughts or opinions, so it was curious Bones would be so mum on the subject now. Studying the doctor, the light bulb went off in the captain's head. 'He doesn't remember.'

Bones did his level best to avoid fidgeting when he was supposed to be standing at attention. If the damned world would just stop spinning for one minute, he might be able to formulate a sentence that didn't sound like something Joanna would have muttered when she was two. "I-"

Pike sighed. He'd been young once, and Chris was acutely aware of the sheer amount of pain McCoy was undoubtedly in. So, in a rare act of benevolence, he decided to throttle back on the torture. "At ease, McCoy. Why don't you sit down before you fall down. It's clear you can't concentrate on standing up straight and talking at the same time this morning."

Though embarrassed, Bones was relieved. He sat heavily in the offered chair, whimpering quietly as the movement jarred his sore head. McCoy closed his eyes to regain his equilibrium. In doing so, he missed the amused scoff that escaped from the man sitting on the opposite side of the desk. McCoy opened his eyes and responded with an honest, "No, sir. Thank you."

"Now," Pike folded his hands carefully in front of him, "You don't remember anything about what you did last night, do you?"

McCoy suddenly found the dirt under his fingernails very interesting. After some hesitation, he decided to answer truthfully. He was always a horseshit liar, so to try it with someone like Pike, a man who could smell stink a few galaxies away, was probably not the wisest choice. "No, sir. Not all of it. I remember going out with Jim and some other people and I vaguely recall coming back to the dorm, but not anything after that."

The captain plucked the data PADD off the desk and turned it on. "Let me give you some inspired reading, then, McCoy. This report was written by Commander Rowe. Do you know him?"

McCoy nodded. "Yes, sir. Good man, from what I remember, though I haven't had much occasion to deal with him." McCoy let the ending of his statement hang in the air. Sighing, he mumbled under his breath, "Apparently, until now."

Pike let McCoy's mumbling slide. He didn't completely need to bust the man's balls straight away. Instead, he shifted in his seat. "'Good man' is right. Now, when I read it, this report really shocked me. I almost didn't believe him at first. Ended up grilling him pretty hard about it make sure it was true." Pike handed the PADD over to McCoy and simply waited for the reaction he knew was coming when the doctor began scanning the incident report.

At first, McCoy gave no clues of physical reaction. Then, without warning, all the color in Bones' face literally plummeted to his feet. For a brief moment, Bones went as white as a sheet until a subtle blush began snaking its way up his neck. A few seconds later, the light pink had morphed into bright cadet red, the doctor's nose and ears blazing with embarrassment which would easily have matched his uniform. Chris watched McCoy's eyes grow bigger and bigger as he read, the physical reaction significant enough that Pike had one finger nearing his comm to page the infirmary.

"Good God, man! I didn't! I-I couldn't. I-I wouldn't. I think." Bones set the PADD gently down on Pike's desk. Chris noticed the doctor's normally rock-steady hands were shaking. McCoy vehemently shook his head, or as much as he dared with the current hangover he was sporting. Resolutely, he said to himself as much as Pike, "No. There's no way I did that, sir. This has got to be another joke."

Pike scoffed. "That's what I thought at first, too, McCoy. But, it's what happened. As I just said, I confirmed it with Rowe and his team of security officers."

Bones threw any attempt at salvaging what remained of his dignity out the figurative window and dropped his head into his hands, letting out a loud, strangled groan in the process. To Pike, it sounded strangely like an animal being tortured, or that of a highly embarrassed Starfleet cadet.

McCoy's voice, though muffled by his hands, took on a distinctly whiny quality. "I went streaking? Oh, dear god, sir. Could you just kill me now?"

The captain leaned back in his chair and allowed himself the luxury of a small smirk. He motioned to the doctor's face and arms. "By the looks of it McCoy, you put up quite a fight. Gave Higgins a bloody nose and dislocated Singh's shoulder. It took Perez jumping on your back to put you in a triangle choke to finally get you on the ground."

McCoy scoffed, his memory at being dressed down by the diminutive officer on the shuttle from Iowa still fresh in his mind. Of course she'd be the one to put his ass down. The Southern gentleman in him, not that he was acting much like it now, hoped he hadn't hurt her last night. Not bothering to pick his head up, McCoy blurted, "I'm surprised she just didn't kick me in the balls and be done with it, sir."

"Dr. McCoy, at that point, I think you would have deserved it."

"I won't disagree with you, sir." Bones sighed. It was time to pay the piper. He picked up his head looked Captain Pike in the eye. "So, what am I facing here for discipline, Captain? Sanctions?" He paused. "Expulsion?"

"I won't lie to you, Cadet, I'm well within my means to kick your sorry, hungover ass out of the program this instant. You injured two security officers, not to mention your conduct which was more than unbecoming of a potential officer."

McCoy hung his head, no longer able to hold Pike's intimidating gaze. Whatever his future held, it was now in the Captain's hands. If he was booted from Starfleet…Bones didn't even want to think about what that might mean. When he'd enlisted, McCoy literally had nowhere else to go, and he doubted that would have changed in the two years he was a cadet. His expression open and accepting of his fate, Bones asked earnestly, "What are you going to do with me, sir?"

Contrary to the premonition most the population harbored in regards to military officers, Pike's status as a high with Starfleet did not equate to the inability to feel sympathy. Looking across the desk, the captain felt a gentle tug at his emotions as he gazed into the wounded, broken look on the doctor's face. It was the same one he'd seen on the shuttle two years previous, and one he recognized as that of a desperate man. Pike knew of McCoy's history and he was well aware the man had nothing else, and most importantly, nowhere else to go. And, there was also the matter of Jim Kirk. For some reason, the brash but brilliant young man subconsciously counted on the surly doctor to be the voice of reason. It was no coincidence they were roommates, and the one-two punch that was Kirk and McCoy needed to stay intact.

Shaking out of his revere, Chris lifted his eyebrows and asked, "I don't know, Doctor. What do you think I should do?" It was rhetorical and Pike knew it, and he also knew it would get him inside the head of Leonard McCoy.

Bones blew out a breath and it was only the years of Pike's military training that kept the look of disgust off his face from the steady smell of booze wafting off the doctor's person. "I'll defer to your judgment, sir. I trust you."

"Sure that's wise, McCoy?"

If it were possible, Bones deflated even more, his posture sagging into the chair. "Probably not, Captain, but I do trust you. And, at this point, what choice do I have?"

Pike tilted his head to the side, sizing up the man in front of him. The captain had zero intention of kicking McCoy out. It was something Pike knew from the moment he'd called the doctor into his office. Starfleet, in his opinion, lacked quality doctors who were independent thinkers and advocates for their patients, not just the medicine. McCoy was what Pike thought a CMO should be, and he'd be damned if he'd lose one of Starfleet's brightest assets to a stupid bet.

But, that didn't necessarily mean he'd let McCoy, and more specifically McCoy's ego, off easily. Content to let the doctor worry for a few minutes while he 'mulled' over a career choice, the captain picked up a PADD that contained McCoy's records and pretended to look it over. Pike carefully schooled his features to present the aura of the harsh disciplinarian, not a guy who thought what Bones did was absolutely the funniest thing he'd heard in a very, very long time. 'No smiles, Chris,' he reminded himself as he read.

After a very long and very tense five minutes for McCoy, Pike tapped the screen off and finally spoke. "Doctor McCoy, what you did was probably the most juvenile, disgusting and idiotic things I've seen done during my tenure on this campus. Not only are you a doctor, but you're also older than all of these kids here. You're supposed to be the compass. They look up to you."

"Yes, sir." McCoy, for once, wisely kept his snarky temper in check.

"Your colleagues and your patients have to respect you if they're going to acquiesce to your requests, demands, and most importantly, your orders. You can't very well override your captain's order on medical basis if the senior staff you work with remembers you for some stupid stunt you pulled at the Academy," Pike scolded. With a cringe he couldn't suppress, he added, "Though I think now they're going to be getting a different mental image every time you do their check-ups."

McCoy groaned. He hadn't thought of that. Though in his defense, the night previous, he wasn't thinking about much of anything. Grimacing, he ground out a very terse, "Yes, sir. I understand."

Pike shifted his position, resting his elbows and forearms on his desk. He leaned in and said, "The bottom line is that I expect better from someone like you, McCoy."

"I expect better from myself, sir. I don't know what got into me last night. I-," McCoy stopped, snapping his mouth closed. Bones had already made a complete fool of himself, so he didn't need to be babbling incoherently in front of Captain Pike. "I'm not trying to make excuses, sir. What I did was stupid and reckless and completely juvenile."

"I know you're not making excuses, McCoy, but that doesn't change the facts."

"I understand that, sir" McCoy answered. His heart sank a little further. The Academy Captain's eyes were cold and unforgiving. McCoy saw no sympathy in them, just disappointment. He sighed internally. Pike was going to kick him out.

"That said," Pike appended, leaning back in his chair, "I will not be expelling you from this school."

Bones' posture sagged in obvious relief, his emotions and hangover making it too difficult for him to stick to decorum. "Thank you, sir," he breathed earnestly. It was the best news he'd received in a long time.

Pike fixed him with a stare that had murderous intent written all over it. He pointed a finger in McCoy's direction. "Oh, no. You're not off the hook yet, Doctor. From this moment on, you are on behavioral probation until I see fit to remove you. If you so much as sneeze out of line, that strange sensation you feel in the seat of your pants will be my foot up your ass!"

McCoy rocketed up from his chair to attention, wavering as he stood. Pike barely resisted the urge to jump up and steady the younger man. Though his face paled considerably, Bones blinked hard but somehow managed to remain steady. "Yes, sir."

Fiddling with the data PADD, Pike muttered a hard, "Now get the hell out of my office, Cadet."

"Sir!" McCoy nodded and executed an about-face, but Pike's voice stopped him before he'd even taken the first step.

"Oh, and McCoy? I'd suggest a shower and a fresh change of clothes. You may even be able to spare some of your dignity if you make it back to your dorm early enough. Most people aren't up yet," Pike added, adjusting his mess on his desk. The captain's eyes had softened considerably, though Chris made a point to keep his facial expression sharp and hard.

Bones rolled his eyes before he turned back around to face his superior. There was a trace of something McCoy couldn't quite identify dancing about in the captain's eyes, and Bones wasn't particularly sure he liked it. Was it possibly sympathy? Amusement? Sighing, McCoy gave a flat, "Yes, sir," turned, and walked out the door and down the hall. Bones avoided making eye contact with anyone on the way out the door, and set his mind on getting back to the dorm as fast as he possibly could. Only when he'd safely arrived at his home would he allow himself to die of mortification.

Pike watched the door click shut behind McCoy before the smile that was threatening to turn into a laugh the entire meeting spread across his face. Christopher Pike was not the heartless bastard all the cadets who faced his wrath claimed he was. Truth be told, Pike had a soft spot for both Kirk and McCoy, and his goal was to be able to mentor the men into the officers he knew they would someday be. Both were his recruits, brought in to Starfleet when few other options were available. For today, the captain really did hope McCoy was able to make it back to his room without being seen by too many people. The poor man's ego was already bruised enough, and Chris hated to be the guy that had to add salt to the wound. But, it was his job, like it or not.

Punching up his access code to Starfleet Academy's intranet, Pike surfed over to the student pages. As the head of the board of discipline, he had full access to any and all media posted by various cadets and staff members. Seeing the video format of what the kids did during their down time helped him do his job more effectively, and in some cases, assisted in setting the record straight. Pike always thought that people lied, but video didn't.

In the search box, the captain punched in 'Leonard McCoy,' his finger hovering over the enter key. He leaned back in his chair and hit the backspace button to clear the field. Instead, Pike settled on 'Streaking' and punched enter.

About a dozen videos popped up, but the one with the most hits was the first one in the search string. Pike clicked on it and burst out laughing for the second time that morning. He was surprised to hear music floating out of his speakers, though the Chris' loud, barking laughs drowned out most of the song. He paid little attention to the lyrics; however, he was sure it was an old 21st century song about none other than alcohol as an inhibition killer. Whoever had taken the video had a front-row seat for the action, for the camera caught a close up McCoy a couple times yelling and screaming directly past. If it weren't for the constant gyration of the lens, something that could probably be attributed to the photographer's shaking laughs, it would have been a quality video.

Clearing his throat, Pike searched out every video he could find detailing McCoy's victory lap around campus. He knew Kirk was one thing, McCoy a different matter entirely. If the situations had been reversed, Kirk would have laughed it off, but not the doctor. The streaking incident alone would literally embarrass McCoy for years without any video evidence available on the campus intranet. And because he was a professional, Pike thought that perhaps it was his civic duty to prevent any further damage to McCoy's career in Starfleet. In one fell swoop, the Czar of Academy Discipline deleted all of the related videos, sent disciplinary summons to the seventeen cadets who had uploaded videos, and sent a memo to all of Starfleet Academy, reminding them of the proper use of StarNet.

Satisfied with his work for a less than average Wednesday morning, Pike went about shuffling the various tasks around his desk. He sighed. After this incident, the rest of the week was going to be a total drag.

Kirk woke to the sound of muffled cursing and mechanical beeps of disapproval. The locking mechanism had always been a little touchy on their door, and the trick was to enter the code smoothly and with rhythm to finesse it open. Peeking over at the nightstand chronometer, Jim smirked. At 0645 after a night like last night, it could only be one person on the other side of the door. Finally, after the third attempt, the door swung open and Leonard McCoy stumbled into the room.

Kirk's eyes widened despite the sudden influx of light from the hallway when he saw his roommate and best friend's state of dishevel. If Jim didn't know better, he would have said McCoy looked downright debauched.

Bones made a beeline for his bed, sinking down into it face first. Not even having the energy to move further, McCoy left his legs dangling off the side. A groan, quieted by the pillow, escaped him. The doctor could feel Kirk's curious eyes boring through him; though at this point, it felt like everything was trying to drill a hole through his skull. McCoy lifted his pounding head an inch off the pillow and turned one bloodshot eye to face his roommate. "I swear to god if you say anything right now, I will jab you with every hypospray I can think of just for fun."

Kirk laughed, quieting the sound when McCoy winced. "Oh, come on Bones. You look like you had a great time last night."

"I assure you that my last two hours were not a 'great time' by any means. In the last two hours, I woke up in the brig, nearly spewed all over myself, dealt with that annoying ass Cupcake, got hauled into Captain Pike's office, was told I went streaking, and was laughed at by said Captain. And this is all with no memories of what I did last night." Bones snarked, laying his head back down on the pillow. What he'd give right now for a hypo. Or a phaser, not particularly in that order.

"I dunno. Sounds pretty fun to me!" Jim was practically bouncing.

"You are entirely too chipper for this time of day, Jim," McCoy said, mustering the best glare he could manage while his head was still spinning. As an afterthought, he added, "And kid, if that's what you think fun is, I'd hate to know what you consider torture. Now, kindly shut the hell up so I can sleep off the mother of all hangovers."

Instead of verbally torturing Bones further, Kirk decided to take pity on his rather pituful roommate. He got up and shut the extra set of blinds to completely block out the sun. The room was nearly pitch black, and Jim was rewarded with a pathetic whimper of relief from the lump of humanity sprawled haphazardly on the adjacent bed. Settling himself back on his own sleeping area, Jim asked, "But, did you at least have a good time?"

McCoy sighed. He had a feeling last night was a set up from the word go. He knew the beer he'd been drinking was heavier than the crap Kirk had, but at the time he was already too drunk to call him out on it. Bones also had a feeling that there wasn't really any petition to get him to go out in the first place. But, aggressive questioning, medical threats, or opening up a can of whoop-ass on the subject would have to wait until he could stand up with wanting to hurl.

On the edge of sleep, Bones eyelids drooped. He buried his head in his pillow and toed off his shoes, letting them both fall unceremoniously to the floor. Just moving his legs to be physically on the bed was more work than McCoy would ever care to admit. Groaning, he wrapped his arms around his pillow and quietly mumbled, "Yeah, Jim. I had a good time."

Jim's smile of triumphant glee was nearly audible. Jumping up off his bed, he took two quick strides across the room and patted Bones on the calf. "I'm glad, man. Really, I am."

Eyes fluttering closed, McCoy whispered, "Me, too, Jim. Me, too."

He just really wished he could remember it.

-FIN-

And that's it! Thanks for reading, and I hoped you all enjoyed this tour into my extremely warped mind. Comments are loved! Take care, y'all!