Marlena glanced quickly around the mess as she entered, as was habit--checking for places where assassins could strike from, anyone who looked out of place--and did a double-take. What was Jim doing behind the bar? It was her Jim, James-Jim, she was sure of that from the way he was smirking.
Were they actually letting him make and serve drinks? For other people to consume? Were they completely insane?
Perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps James was merely cleaning the bar, not serving. But then where was the actual bartender?
"Um," she said by way of greeting. "What are you doing?"
"If the people of this station desperately want to keep me in quarters and liquor for providing access to freely-purchased and entirely legal poisons, who am I to deny them?" he asked. "You would not believe the sort of things people tell you, Marlena. If I choose to take over the station, it'll be a snap."
McCoy ambled into the makeshift bar - Spock and Jim were both occupied and, really, he had been better at entertaining himself once upon a time. He distinctly remembered being quite a busy man despite not having sex all the damn time.
Jim was ridiculous.
It sounded smitten even in his own head. McCoy needed a drink.
That Not-Jim fellow was tending the bar. Huh.
McCoy bellied up to the bar anyway. If Not-Jim wasn't one to water down the Romulan ale, he reckoned they'd get along just fine.
James poured the drink, without any show but generously.
"Leaving me alone, so I can't complain," he said, his smirk suggesting this was a dangerous prospect. "Your boys let you out, or did they request some private time?"
Comments 103
Were they actually letting him make and serve drinks? For other people to consume? Were they completely insane?
Perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps James was merely cleaning the bar, not serving. But then where was the actual bartender?
"Um," she said by way of greeting. "What are you doing?"
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Jim was ridiculous.
It sounded smitten even in his own head. McCoy needed a drink.
That Not-Jim fellow was tending the bar. Huh.
McCoy bellied up to the bar anyway. If Not-Jim wasn't one to water down the Romulan ale, he reckoned they'd get along just fine.
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"Romulan ale?" he said, hardly a question.
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He grinned at Not-Jim. If nothing else, the man seemed to appreciate the finer liquor in life.
"Set you up with a job, I see. They treating you right otherwise?"
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"Leaving me alone, so I can't complain," he said, his smirk suggesting this was a dangerous prospect. "Your boys let you out, or did they request some private time?"
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