Kirk's crystal blue eyes were slightly red when he dropped his tray loudly on the table across of McCoy before hoisting himself onto the bench with a loud groan. McCoy looked up at him from his own breakfast, chuckling softly as he shook his head.

"Didn't stop drinking last night did you?" he asked, not even attempting to mask the amusement in his voice.

"You drank almost as much as I did last night," Kirk glared. "How are you in a better mood than me?"

"Perks of being a doctor, kid," he answered. "I know how to cure a hangover."

"Show off."

McCoy smirked before continuing to eat what the Academy tried to pass as edible food. It was all kinds of cold, soggy, and stale; the only saving grace was the coffee that was the only item on the menu that tasted as it was supposed to. Kirk, however, didn't seem to mind, as he plowed through it without much concern.

"You're James Kirk," some bushy eyed cadet said from beside Kirk. He looked like a fool standing there, tray in hand as the already cold food became colder.

"It's Jim," Kirk said, not even bothering to look up from his own food.

"Yeah, but you're him," the cadet continued. "You look just like your dad."

That caused a response.

Kirk paused mid-bite, toast in hand before he very calmly set it back down on the rim of his plate.

"Your point being?"

"What's it like?"

McCoy studied the situation carefully. Kirk had tensed up and, for the first time since he had met him, had yet to make a smart ass response or obnoxious comment. It was only as he eyed the cadet—finding his dislike for him growing by the second—that he noticed Alice standing behind him, watching and listening in.

"Right now, it's irritating," Kirk said, his voice dangerously even.

It was as the cadet looked like he was going keep talking that McCoy decided he had enough. "Beat it, kid," he growled. "Some of us want to eat breakfast in peace." The glare that Kirk was immune to worked easily on the cadet as he quickly spun around to leave.

And ran right into Alice.

She had heard what was going on and set her tray down in anticipation, waiting patiently. As the cadet had turned to scurry off, Alice walked forward, flipping the bottom of his tray upwards and forcing it against his chest as she seemingly collided with him on pure accident.

Oatmeal and smooshed fruit clung to the cadet's uniform as the milk slowly drained off of him in a splattered mess. The dishes clattered onto the tile floors loudly. McCoy could have sworn that the cadet's mouth made the perfect, stereotypical look of surprise as he stared down at his ruined uniform in disbelief and shock.

"Oh my—" Alice covered her mouth in apparent horror. "Oh my God," she said, her voice wavering with embarrassment and dismay. "I am so sorry. I didn't even see you there." Alice reached out her hands as if to reassure him, but changed her mind. "God, I'm such a ditz," she said, words rushing out of her mouth. "Here let me help you." Alice straightened out the tray the cadet had a death lock hold on before she bent down to pick up the dishes and utensils off of the floor, avoiding touching any of the spilled food, before she placed them back onto the tray.

"Again, I am so, so sorry," Alice said with full sincerity. And then she straightened up, dropping the façade. "You really should hurry up back to your dorm, though," she said quietly, coldly. "You are required to be present in a clean uniform." Her eyes narrowed slightly, the gleaming blue, green, and gold of her eyes dangerous. "You know, regulations and all."

McCoy watched Alice follow the cadet with her eyes as he ran out of the mess hall before she retrieved the tray she had set down earlier. She didn't look smug as he would have if he had played someone as well as she had. Her expression was blank as if tearing that kid a new one hadn't even fazed her. It was either terrifying or impressive.

"You alright?" Alice asked as she took a seat next to Kirk.

"I'm fine," Kirk said flatly.

"Really?" Alice asked. She then smiled softly at him. "Because you look like crap"

Kirk shook his head. "How is it that you and Bones are perfectly fine from last night?"

"I have a high metabolism," Alice said as she began to dig into her food.

"High metabolism, huh?" McCoy asked, not believing her for a second.

Alice smirked at him. "High tolerance. I've been going to Joe's since I was old enough to buy my first fake ID."

"That's illegal," Kirk said chastising.

"So is adultery."

"She's got a point, Kirk," McCoy added.

"Wait," Kirk said shaking his head as his slightly as his hungover mind finally focused. "You lived here?"

"Live," Alice answered. "I have an apartment a few blocks away from Joe's."

"Didn't think cadets could afford their own apartments," McCoy said with a raised eyebrow.

"They can't," she admitted.

"So what are you, daddy's money?" Kirk asked.

McCoy saw her flinch at that, but she tried to hide it behind a spoonful of the spongy oatmeal.

"Something like that."

Kirk must not have noticed her flinch, though. "So are we good enough friends for me to crash at your apartment in case my roommates don't pan out?"

Alice dropped her spoon having clearly lost interest in her breakfast and gave Kirk an unamused look before leaning in slightly. "Let me be perfectly clear. Under no circumstances will you ever, ever make it into my apartment."

"I thought we were friends," Kirk whined.

"As your friend," McCoy finally interjected, feeling like the chaperone more than a doctor, "I suggest you drop it."

Kirk gasped with fake surprise. "We're friends?"

"You're such a child," McCoy sneered, but Alice was chuckling softly, so he didn't mind Kirk's immaturity too much. He nodded at her to get her attention. "What's on your schedule for today?"

"Psych," she grimaced. "Then physical."

"Ouch," Kirk winced sympathetically. "I managed to get that over with yesterday."

"Lucky," Alice said dryly, but her cryptic gaze remained on McCoy. "What about you?"

"Meeting with my advisor to sort out some discrepancies in my schedule."

"What's wrong with it?" Alice asked curiously, stacking both Kirk's and McCoy's trays on top of her own.

"It's designed for someone who doesn't already have an MD."

"Show off," Kirk repeated, though this time, he was in a slightly better mood.

Alice rose to her feet, stepping out from behind the table gingerly, collecting the trays from the table. "I better get these evaluations out of the way. Lunch?"

"I've got a meeting with Pike," Kirk shrugged.

"Who knows how long it will take to fix my schedule," McCoy offered.

"Dinner then," Alice said, smiling. "Don't be late, boys."

McCoy couldn't stop himself from watching Alice leave. He was nowhere near as obvious about it as most would have been as he traced the outline of her red uniform. But unfortunately for him, Kirk noticed, a ridiculous smirk plastered on his face.

"Thought you were done with that horseshit," Kirk pressed.

McCoy sneered at him. "The hell you talking about?"

"Relax, Bones," he snickered. "There's no harm in looking."

"Don't be such a child," McCoy growled.

"I saw the way you two were talking last night. She's got a thing for you." Kirk winked at him. It was the second time he had brought it up in 48 hours.

McCoy rolled his eyes. "There a reason you keep bringing that up?"

"So you're not interested?" When he only received a glare he continued on. "Meaning you won't mind…?" Kirk raised an eyebrow.

"Jesus, Kirk! She's not property," McCoy snarled scornfully.

"I know that. I just don't want to step in on your territory."

"You're unbelievable," McCoy said, rising to his feet. Kirk followed closely behind.

"It's part of my charm." Kirk gave him a ridiculous smile. "See you around, Bones."

McCoy only groaned as he waved Kirk off.

The loud cracking of McCoy's neck made him realize just how tense he was. Two days into his life contract with Starfleet and it was already taking its toll. Though, his attempt to pickle his liver almost every night for the past six months probably wasn't doing him any favors either.

McCoy sighed loudly, wiping the sweat from his brow. He could understand why they were required to wear uniforms: unity, to emphasize that every member of Starfleet was part of a team, to identify corps and rank. What he couldn't understand was why they had to make the damn things out of a material that conducted heat as well as wearing a full-body suit of wool.

He tugged at his collar before continuing to walk across campus.

Six months ago he'd been drinking vintage wines reasonably at the most expensive restaurants in Atlanta or while attending the parties of some of the wealthier citizens that were honored to have him, Georgia's rising star in medicine, in their presence. He had a job he loved, the best friends anyone could ask for—much more civilized than the people he had to deal with now—and a home he could be proud of. He'd had the perfect wife, the perfect life.

Murphy's law, McCoy thought bitterly. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And it had all gone catastrophically wrong all at once.

And that's why he was here, putting himself through what felt exactly like college all over again, right down to the annoying freshmen that bugged the shit out you. His first round of college had been hell. Having to ultimately do it all over again…words could not describe just how horrendous it felt.

At least he managed to get the advisor to fix his schedule. It took a lot of time and quite a few phone calls, but they managed to figure out what to do with him. Apparently, he was as big of a catch as the recruiter had said he was, but that didn't mean they knew how to deal with a cadet that was already a board certified doctor.

McCoy still had to take all the other classes required by all cadet's despite what track they were on, the general education classes to continue with his analogy; but they had allowed him to drop almost all of the classes required for the med track specifically, only making him take those reserved for the last year or so that were tailored for working on starships and dealing with unknown illnesses, diseases, et cetera, that could come from unexplored worlds—the mere thought of having to do so sending his anxiety levels through the roof.

But with gaping holes in his schedule, he needed to supplement the removed classes with working in the on-campus hospital. Starfleet Academy couldn't let him have any free time despite the fact that he had a medical degree over the others. That would be unfair.

Unfair. McCoy thought murderously. It was the exact word his advisor had used. The man probably doesn't even know the meaning of the word.

What was unfair was the fact that every cadet, every single damn on of 'em, would stare at him as they passed by. Some of them didn't look old enough to have hit puberty yet, and here he was, old enough to be a bitter divorcee already.

The only people, despite one of them who kept bringing up his age, who didn't seem to care that he was older than they were, were Alice and Kirk.

Six months ago if he had found himself in their company, he would have thought that he had finally hit the bottom, that it couldn't get much worse. Now, as he found himself walking around a goddamn campus in a tacky red uniform with the promise of space travel looming before him, he optimistically—and uncharacteristically—thought that he might be digging himself out of the sinking pit. Not that he'd ever let on to that. God forbid Kirk ever knew that McCoy had any sort of decent thought about him.

McCoy continued making his way back to his dorm room—he still couldn't get over the fact that he was back in a dorm—opting to relax for what might be the last time until classes finally started. He wouldn't have even noticed the iridium statue if the sun hadn't caught it in such a way that blinded him momentarily.

He wasn't really sure why he had stopped to look at it. But there was no way that he would be able to un-see it.

Underneath the statue, there was a plaque that read "Captain George Samuel Kirk of the U.S.S. Kelvin."

That cadet had been right. Jim really did look just like him.

There's no fucking way one family could have been that unlucky, McCoy thought. But the evidence was irrefutable, flashing up at him from his PADD:

"George Kirk. Born 2204 in San Francisco. Attended Starfleet Academy 2222-2225. Married to Winona Davis 2228.86. Commissioned on the U.S.S. Kelvin, Science Division 2227.09. Promoted to First Officer 2232. Son James Tiberius Kirk born 2233.04. Killed in Action 2233.04. Posthumous Medals: Medal of honor; Kelvin Cross; Distinguished Service Award."

Ever since he had seen the statue of George Kirk, McCoy had spent his free time reading up on him. At first, he wondered how the hell Jim could be related to the man. Now, he had a vague notion as to why Jim didn't seem to be related to George at all.

He didn't even hear Kirk approach until he was clasping him on the shoulders from behind, causing McCoy to jump.

"Hey, Bones!" Kirk greeted him enthusiastically, goofy smile plastered on his face. "What're you reading?" he asked as he sidled up next to Bones on the bench. They were seated outside of the Mess Hall, where they had agreed to meet Alice.

McCoy could have lied, but didn't think that was the best idea. Certainly not a way to make a good first impression with a new friend. God damn, are we friends? McCoy thought.

"About Captain George Kirk."

The smile that Kirk had been wearing dissipated instantly and his eyes went dark as he closed himself off. The relaxed and playful behavior of his was swapped with something much more defensive.

"You saw the statue," he sighed, running his hands through his hair.

"It's kind of hard to miss, kid," McCoy shrugged.

"I know," Kirk all but groaned. Then he waited for it, but McCoy just kept reading from his PADD. From where he was sitting, Kirk saw him switch from the article on his father to one that was about some new medical advancement that he could barely follow.

"And?" Kirk asked, annoyed.

McCoy knew what he was asking after. He wanted McCoy to get all of the overly personal questions everyone would want to ask him so that he could angrily refuse to do so in such a way that made sure they never brought it up again. But if Kirk hadn't asked him about his life, McCoy wasn't about to do so.

McCoy looked over at Jim, his eyes sincere, "And if you ever need someone to drink with you about it, let me know. It's always better to have a good excuse as to why you're passed out on the barroom floor," he said, before returning his attention back to his PADD

Kirk looked at him with a questioning frown. "Is this you being nice?"

"I know. I feel like I need to bathe in acid," McCoy smiled but didn't look up from what he was reading.

"You're alright, Bones," Kirk chuckled.

"Yeah, but keep that to yourself. It'll ruin the reputation I'm trying to start here."

Kirk laughed softly, shaking his head. He then paused for a beat.

"Do you think Alice knows?"

McCoy looked up at him. "You saw what she did to that cadet this morning. Trust me, she knows."

"Yeah," Kirk sighed. Then there was a shimmer of light that returned to his eyes. "That was pretty amazing."

"It was brutal."

"That's why it was so amazing."

"What was amazing?" Alice asked as she approached.

"I was just telling Bones how amazing it was that you told us not to be late, but here you are, arriving late," Kirk fired off quickly with one of his signature smiles accompanying it.

Alice frowned at him in such a way that made it obvious she didn't believe him for a second. "It took longer than I thought it was going to," she shrugged.

McCoy frowned slightly. There was no reason that a psych evaluation and a physical would carry on for almost an entire die. She was lying about something.

"Well, I'm starving," Kirk said, jumping to his feet. "Let's go get something to eat." He reached out as if to guide Alice forward, similar to how a significant other might guide their partner forward. An obvious flirtation.

What wasn't quite so obvious was the reason why Alice recoiled violently away from him as if she had been struck.

Both McCoy and Kirk stared after her.

Alice smiled, trying to abate the awkwardness that was settling in. She massaged her herself up and down the length of her upper arm nervously. "Sorry," she tried. "I wasn't expecting that." She then motioned towards the Mess Hall. "Shall we?"

McCoy saw Kirk's frown and knew the kid wanted to question her about her reaction, at the very least. But as a doctor, he knew that was the worst possible thing that could be done at the moment. His heart ached. Alice had reacted exactly the way a victim of abuse would have. He hoped that he was wrong in his observation.

"Come on," McCoy said, shoving him forward before Kirk could make things works. "Weren't you starving?" Thankfully, Kirk took the hint and walked on, leading the way.

McCoy didn't miss the small grateful smile Alice shot him before she followed Kirk.

Or the fact that her thumb was lightly tapping her fingers on her left hand: index, middle, ring, pinky, then back again.

~~.O.~~