Lucas slammed the door to his quarters shut with a resounding bang. He stripped off the top half of his uniform followed quickly by the bottom half. He stood staring into the mirror wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. Staring back at him was the face of a teenager. Angry, Lucas turned away from the mirror and stalked over to the bunk beds. Climbing the ladder he threw himself onto his bunk, determined to go to sleep and forget about the shipwreck that had been his night. His mind however wouldn't let him sleep, choosing instead to replay the evening's events over and over.

It had started out as a celebration of his new rank. Brody had taken them to a local strip club. A 21+ strip club. The bouncer had refused to admit them, despite Lucas' ID and the other's proclamations that he was, in fact, the 29 years that appeared on his ID.

Next had been a dance club. They allowed him in, but wouldn't sell him a drink. Lucas quickly got bored of watching Brody, and Piccolo score with women, as had O'Neil so they left.

Six bars later and they still hadn't found one that would sell Lucas a celebratory drink. Finally Piccolo had gotten a tip about a seedy bar in a bad part of town that apparently sold to everybody. Everybody that is except for blonde haired, blue eyed geniuses thrown into chryostasis at nineteen and released at twenty-nine. Nope, they somehow managed to draw the line there.

"Ah forget about it kid, we'll find a better place," said Tony, shooting the bartender a glare.

"Nah, you know what I'm tired," Lucas replied, "I'm just going to go back to the boat."

His friends did the expected beg and plead for him to stay but Lucas insisted he was just tired and left them. He wanted them to have a good time, but he was also angry that none of them came back with him- not even Tim who was generally the first one to call it a night.

Lucas punched his pillow in an attempt to make it softer, and to vent some of his anger.

Forget it. I'm never drinking. Ever. Lucas thought glaring at the ceiling. His bitter reverie was broken by Tony's voice, singing "What shall we do with a drunken sailor", as he came into the room.

Great. Not only can I not drink, but I have to deal with a drunken Tony. Talk about salt in the wound.

"Keep it down Piccolo."

"Yes sir, Officer Luke sir."

"Don't call me Luke!" exclaimed Lucas angrily as sprang up to face Tony. Lucas was shocked at the sight.

Standing there on the floor with Piccolo was O'Neil, Brody, and Dagwood, each of them holding some form of alcohol. Alcohol whose presence would get any one of them booted off Seaquest. Lucas felt a grin forming on his face as he recognized true friendship for what it was.

Okay, he thought, never drinking is stupid. I'll settle for never buying a drink.

Smiling Lucas slid down off of the bunk.

"Hey Dagwood, I hope one of those beers are for me."