Cinco de Mayo was really just an excuse to break out the blenders and drink margaritas. And fuck if Nyota had ever said no to a margarita before. She and Gaila wasted no time in digging out the foot wide plastic margarita glasses that they had brought back from a spring break trip down to Cozumel during their junior year at the Academy. It might have been a little inappropriate to bring them up on a starship, but, hell, they were proof positive that the two girls had survived the week.

As was usual for the themed parties held on the ship, the rec rooms were decorated to the nines with piñatas and other festive bits and pieces. Also as usual, no one questioned where and how Jim had gotten ahold of all the decorations. Nyota mused that if Starfleet hadn't worked out for him, Jim would have had a successful career as an event planner.

"I don't know that it's healthy for any species to eat that much cheese," Bones said, eyes wide as he stared at Gaila. Nyota laughed. Gaila's discovery of chips and queso during their first year at the Academy had been a bit disturbing. Gaila loved the snack. She couldn't get enough of it. It really was unfair how much of it she could put back without getting sick or gaining a pound.

"She's fine," Nyota assured him.

"No, really," Bones said. "I feel like I should go grab a hypo or two."

Form the other end of the room, there was a large bang, and Sulu bellowed triumphantly as a piñata burst and showered the floor with tiny plastic bottles of tequila. "Sweet," he cried. "I love big kid parties."

Nyota downed the rest of her margarita and swatted Gaila's arm. "I need to go to the bathroom. Come with me. You too, Christine," she added.

Gaila looked up and glared at Nyota, her cheeks full of chips. Christine asked, "Isn't it a little early to be breaking the seal?"

"I don't concern myself with seals," she said. "Now, Gaila!"

"Can I bring it with me," the Orion asked.

Nyota made a face, and Christine said, "God, you're such a man." Gaila shrugged and stood, bringing a small bowl and handful of chips with her.

From beside Bones, Spock commented, "I do not understand this custom of human females all journeying to the waste facilities at the same time."

"They like to travel in herds," Bones said.

Nyota whirled and said, "Hey, I don't think you appreciate how difficult it is to pee in a poncho." Both men eyed the overlarge blue striped poncho she had lifted from Jim sometime before. It completely swallowed her small frame.

"Okay, that makes sense, but you don't always have that poncho to hide behind," Bones called after their retreating forms.

The rest of the night went by in a blur of tequila shots. Bones was vaguely aware of making it back to his rooms, Jim slung over his back. Bringing the fool back to his own rooms and crashing there would have probably been a better choice, what with Jim having more space, but Bones didn't think straight on tequila. Instead, he just dumped Jim onto his couch and stumbled over to his bed.

The next morning, he woke up to Jim curled around him. He reached over for the hangover cure he had strategically left on his bedside table and administered it to himself. Almost immediately, the pounding in his head subsided and the cotton feeling in his mouth went away. Knowing that there would be plenty of others who would be heading down to medical, Bones tried to detangle himself from Jim's hold. Jim just grunted in his sleep and latched on tighter.

"Jim, let go," Bones growled. "I've got work to do today, and so do you."

Jim muttered something that sounded a bit like "No, I don't get highlights." Bones rolled his eyes and pushed back hard enough to jerk Jim awake. Jim blinked sleep from his eyes and looked around. "I don't wanna," he whined, and buried his face into Bones's neck.

"Dammit, Jim, I leave you on my couch for a reason," he grumbled.

Jim laughed a bit. "I like how we always do that. Go to sleep in different places and wake up spooning. Alcohol truly is the anti-cockblock."

"It's only an anti-cockblock if those in question got any action," Bones said. "Now, up!"

"Fine, fine," Jim grumbled. "I need a hangover cure, but don't stab me with—OW!" He glared, and Bones tossed the used hypo into a waste bin. Jim scooted off the bed, rubbing his neck and muttering, "You say I've got an oral fixation. Well, you've got a stabby, thrusty fixation."

"Go get changed, Jim," Bones said, ignoring his friend's complaints and heading into his bathroom.

"I don't have any clothes over here," Jim asked.

"I sent them to laundry yesterday," Bones answered.

Jim pouted and went to collect his boots. He shoved them on and picked up his sombrero. He looked around the couch and then frowned, remembering that Nyota had stolen his poncho. Well, at least he had the hat. Shoving it on his head, he called back into the bathroom, "See you at breakfast." Bones let out a muffled grunt of agreement, and Jim headed out to his own quarters.

On the way up to his deck, he passed Janice and Christine. "Oh, look, Janice," Christine said. "It's the ever elusive and rare male Walk of Shame."

"He gave up shame for Lent, and then decided to just make it a lifestyle," Janice commented.

"Don't knock it till you try it," Jim advised, breezing past them.

When he sat across the table from Bones in the mess, after the small fight trying to keep his bacon out of the doctor's reach, Jim said, "I'm pretty sure the whole ship thinks we're fucking."

"So did everyone at the Academy," Bones said. "Nothing new there."

"Yeah," Jim agreed. "But man, the Walk of Shame had never felt more glorious, even without the actual acts to cause said shame. I think it was the sombrero."