"You know, I can't thank you enough for meeting me this afternoon, Doctor McCoy," Jimmy said as he and the doctor began collecting their books and papers from the table.

"You're welcome, kid. You're actually one of the few who have a prayer of passing Singh's final exam," the other man groused. He huffed and continued, "I wouldn't waste my time with the majority of your classmates. They're more interested in playing doctor with their fellows than they are becoming real doctors. The only thing most of them are going to pass is an STD to their next partner. Probably more than one."

Jimmy found it amusing that Dr. McCoy could look grumpy even when he was giving praise. Though he seemed to be in a perpetual bad mood, Jimmy had been in enough of his classes to be able to get glimpses behind the gruff exterior. Jimmy's intelligent questions and obvious dedication had gained him sort of mentor in the self-professed "simple country doctor" who was anything but simple.

"More than one STD or more than one partner?" Jimmy asked, already guessing the answer.

"Both!"

"At least they'll be intimately familiar with Penicillin," Jimmy said cheerfully, chuckling when he received the expected rolled eyes and grunt from his mentor.

It was strange: Jimmy's two mentors couldn't have appeared more different, yet they were very similar in that they hid behind a slightly over-the-top personality. Doctor Mallard appeared cheerful, overly verbose, and mild-mannered, yet that harmless "Ducky" exterior hid a brilliant, cunning mind and an iron will. Jimmy had seen enough of it to know he wouldn't ever want to be on the doctor's bad side. On the other hand, Dr. McCoy frowned, complained, and insulted people constantly, but he hid a brilliant mind and a deeply compassionate heart. Jimmy knew the doctor was insanely busy yet always seemed to have time to help Jimmy. He also donated his time as a physician several days every week at a free clinic not too far from the university.

"You've got a ride home, right?" McCoy grumbled, tossing his belongings into his leather satchel. "I don't care if it is supposed to be safer, only a crazy person takes the Metro, and calling a cab is a death wish. Those drivers all seem to think they're the lead car in the Daytona 500, not transportation for us mere mortals stuck in the middle of a city with actual traffic laws."

Used to McCoy's way of worrying about him, Jimmy refrained from laughing. "Oh, I don't think they're that bad, Dr. McCoy. I took a taxi to get here earlier, and I'm just fine."

McCoy grunted, "Huh. Thought you smelled funny when you showed up." He paused to stare, bright blue eyes squinting slightly as pointed an accusing finger at his tablemate. "You probably got in a cab with a driver high enough to clear the point on the Washington monument, but you were just too young and naïve to know it. You're just lucky you made it here in one piece, Jimmy Palmer!"

Finished packing his bag, Jimmy calmly picked up his coffee in one hand and adjusted his glasses with the other. "Well, I needed your help, and I've missed talking to you, so it was worth the risk to me."

"Risking life and limb," McCoy muttered and drained the last of his tea. "Damned kids think you're invulnerable." The slight upward tilt of his lips when he set down his mug indicated he was pleased but would never admit it. Jimmy just smiled.

"Don't worry tonight, Dr. McCoy. My friend Tony is meeting me here and will drive me home." Jimmy checked his watch. "In fact, he should be here any minute." Tony had actually made some comment about meeting at the coffee house since it was close to get a better look at the sorority sisters who lived nearby, but Jimmy took that with a grain of salt. The last time he'd seen one of the co-eds hit on Tony, the man had looked more uncomfortable than anything.

"That's that federal agent friend of yours, isn't it?" McCoy asked with a raised eyebrow. "The one who's been drugged, shot multiple times, almost killed by an assassin, and has had the actual, god's-honest plague?" he continued, his tone increasingly concerned.

Jimmy nodded. Of course, the doctor would remember Tony by the medical emergencies in Jimmy's stories.

"Oh, hell. That's not good at all." McCoy abruptly shoved his chair back and got to his feet.

"What? Why?" Jimmy blurted, standing and grabbing his things.

"Other than the fact that I'm surprised that crazy cop hasn't infected you with his insanity and gotten you killed… yet," McCoy growled, "Jim is going to be here soon, and if you remember, we've already determined that we must prevent Jim and Tony from meeting at all costs."

Jimmy's eyes went wide, and he nodded. As much as he liked Tony, and Jim too from the brief times he'd met him since the other young man had come to D.C., the two of them should never meet. Ever.

"Oh, I remember. I don't even want to think about how much trouble they could cause." Their combined crazy ideas and even crazier luck would make the city implode. Or explode. Possibly both at the same time.

McCoy snorted and set off toward the coffee house door. "Those two meeting would set off a chain reaction of events that would probably mean the end of life as we know it!"

Jimmy couldn't help but grin impishly as he followed McCoy outside. "But we'd sure have fun on the way out!" He didn't know why, but sometimes he couldn't resist poking his mentor with a verbal stick.

That got him a dark look as McCoy vehemently snarled, "Dammit, man! This is the fate of the universe we're talking about here! You don't joke about the fate of the universe when an uncontrollable catalyst like James T. Kirk is involved! It's like… like… you think you've got a normal enzymatic reaction going, and then it turns into quantum tunneling with no warning whatsoever!"

McCoy might be a little melodramatic, but it was very true that both Tony and Jim Kirk had the damndest luck and a propensity for getting themselves (and innocent bystanders) into precarious situations. Jimmy opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut when his mentor shifted to the side, allowing Jimmy to see behind him. Jimmy glanced at McCoy, but his gaze was immediately drawn back to what was behind the other man.

"What." McCoy demanded. "What's wrong with you? You've gone all pasty. I told you that barista looked shady! If you're sick from the curdled milk she put in your coffee, I'm not going to feel one bit sorry for you."

"Uh…" Jimmy swallowed. Was it his imagination, or could he really hear a cello playing the Jaws theme music? "Uh, Dr. McCoy? B-behind you," he stammered.

McCoy whipped around, wide-eyed and ready for anything. He made a sound of distress, which he would deny to his dying day was a whimper. "Holy mother of…." he gasped, turning back to Jimmy, his eyes silently begging his student to tell him he was wrong.

Jimmy, though, couldn't seem to look away. "It could be worse?" his attempt at reassurance fell flat since it was clear he didn't believe it either.

"Only if my ex-wife were here too," McCoy muttered bitterly.

"Hey, Jimmy!" Tony exclaimed with a bright grin as he approached doctor and student. "Guess who I ran into!"

To Tony's left, James T. Kirk himself waved and flashed an equally bright grin. He turned to his best friend and moved forward to sling an arm around McCoy's neck. "Bones! This is awesome! I can hardly believe my luck!"

Tony nodded, bouncing slightly on his toes. "Yep! Jimmy, meet Jim Kirk, a brother from the same frat I was in. Who could have guessed we'd meet here in D.C., of all places?"

"Who indeed," McCoy grumbled, watching in horrified fascination as the two "brothers" seemed to feed off each other's energy. He wondered if this was what it was like when a star went supernova – all intense, bright light before – BAM! – a black hole sucked the life from everything in range. He didn't know much about physics, but his will to live was certainly feeling the strain.

Jim slung his other arm around Tony's neck, drawing him and McCoy closer, either not noticing or choosing to ignore McCoy's grunt and scowl.

"This is awesome!" Jim repeated happily. "I was thinking I was going to be bored since you're so busy with your practice and with teaching and won't have as much time to hang out, but Tony here has volunteered to show me all the best places in D.C. Now you don't have to worry about me getting mugged and ending up dead in a gutter!"

Jim and Tony both laughed at the joke.

Jimmy's strained laugh died a quick death at his mentor's glower. He couldn't hear exactly what the doctor said, but it sounded like, "good company… gutter …scotch in the world."

Tony and Jim exchanged delighted glances, apparently oblivious to anything but their own excitement. It was clear the two had immediately identified the other as a kindred spirit, much to Jimmy's dismay and McCoy's horror.

"So. We're meeting up with Abby at the Geiger Counter. We need to get Jim started out right, and you two are coming with us," Tony announced gleefully.

Jimmy met McCoy's eyes, desperately hoping he'd have a way out of this. He had shared more than a few stories about the "happy goth," and he knew McCoy would recognize the name.

That Tony and Abby planned to start at the Geiger Counter did not bode well for Jimmy's sanity or his future. That particular club had levels that catered to the more adventurous types of people. The few stories Jimmy had heard about that place had been enough to convince him he wasn't and never would be adventurous enough.

The imaginary cello was gone, and now Jimmy thought he could hear the shrill, dissonant violins from Psycho. He wondered if Dr. Mallard would have to autopsy his body… if they ever found it, that is.

Swept up like a leaf in a tornado, McCoy barely managed to grab Jimmy's arm as they were propelled down the sidewalk.

"Jimmy, absolutely no one can know it's our fault those two met," he hissed, eyeing the young man. He considered his options for surviving the night and grimly instructed, "I know what goes on at Geiger Counter, so from this point forward, you and I are together. We don't share either. Got it?"

Jimmy stared at his mentor in shock and whispered back, his voice shaking, "I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to repress and deny everything."

McCoy nearly bit his tongue when he stumbled briefly before he was once more being propelled forward by two insane, unstoppable forces.

"The story of my whole damn life," he complained bitterly. "Repress and deny."