She watched as Captain Kirk slapped his glass down on the bar and ordered the same again. Usually her bar was buzzing with life as old friends met and chatted but tonight the mood was sombre. The topic of conversation on everybody's lips was the death of the legendary Commander Spock, killed in the line of duty. Kirk had always been close to his first officer but he was the only one not seeming to truly mourn his passing.

As the hours ticked by the bar slowly emptied until it was only Kirk sitting alone in a dark corner. The old publican knew Kirk from a long way back and didn't have the heart to kick him out. He may not be openly grieving but she had seen enough customers drinking to forget and she was wise enough to recognise the symptoms by now.

He slapped his glass down again and ordered another. She contemplated giving him one but decide it wouldn't help him. His heart-break hurt her. It reminded her of her loss. She remembered a song she heard a long time ago, soon after her own best fried had died as a child. It had helped her heal; perhaps it would help Kirk too. Softly she started to sing,

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out faces
Worn out faces

Her melodic voice drew Kirk out of a drunken daze

Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere
Going nowhere

Why the hell were they out here in space anyway? All it led to was death and destruction. Shit, if they hadn't been out here in the first place he would never have met Spock and he wouldn't be suffering like this now.

And their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression
No expression

The pain in Kirk's chest soared and he put his head down on the countertop.

Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow
No tomorrow

God damn, why couldn't he cry, he cried when he thought of his mother being murdered, he cried when he thought of his nephew's death, he wept for the child he and his short-term wife never knew, he even shed tears for his friend Gary who had tried to kill him… What was wrong with him that he couldn't bear to think of Spock as dead, never mind cry over his death.

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I ever had

I wish I were dead, I wish I were dead

I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very, very…

Mad world
Mad world

Spock could never understand human's illogical actions either. At the thought of his First Officer raising one eyebrow at yet another of McCoy's irrational suggestions Kirk started to chuckle and then started to sob. His choking laugh grew louder as tears streamed down his face. His best friend was dead and Kirk was still here. Even after all the daft things Kirk had done in his life he was still here and it was all thanks to his calm, reserved, logical Mister Spock. Someone up there had a cruel sense of irony.

Eventually the racking sobs subsided and were replaced by an occasional hiccup. The old bartender was surprised to see Kirk raise his head and give her a watered down version of his boyish smile.

'It's a mad world after all… thank you…'