“Where’s your bestie?”

Jim eyed Bones over the rim of his tropical drink glass. The little umbrella did hide part of Bones’ face, which Jim was sorta grateful for.

“We had a fight.”

“A fight? You and Spock?”


“Over what?”

Jim sighed. Mumbled.

“What? It sounded like you said…over who’s taller.”

He shrugged.

“Lord, you have corn for brains. Where is Spock now?”

“Back on the ship, I guess.”

“You’re going to let a stupid fight ruin your shore leave?”

“Nope. You can see I’m whooping it up,” Jim said sarcastically. “When I’m done here, I’m gonna find someone to party with.”

Bones sighed. “Well, it’s your funeral. I’ve got plans so I’ll see you later.”

Jim waved.

He had just finished his drink when the chair across from him was suddenly occupied.

“I am taller.”

Jim’s lips twitched. “Okay, okay. But I’m bigger and I can prove—”


“Well.” He grinned. “If you’d like to prove me wrong…”

Spock arched a brow.

“Back to the ship, Mister Spock?”