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Jim slid his empty glass in front of Bones. “Can you get me another drink?” he asked.
“No,” Bones grumbled, not even looking up from his PADD. Jim had managed to drag him to a bar, but apparently, whatever Bones was working on was more interesting than actually trying to enjoy their shore leave.
“Bones,” Jim implored. “Come on, please?”
The doctor glared at his friend. “Why can’t you get it yourself?”
“The bartender gave me a weird look when I ordered,” Jim said. “I don’t know what his deal is, but I don’t have the energy to deal with…that again.”
“If you think he has something against Starfleet or you, we should leave,” Bones told him. “We don’t want another incident like what happened on that station.”
“It wasn’t that kind of a look,” Jim said. “It was just…I don’t know, a look. Can you please get me a refill?”
Bones set down his PADD. “Fine,” he said. “But you owe me one.”
As Bones left, Jim looked around the bar. It seemed to be a mix of planetary locals and assorted Federation species, although a couple belonged to alien races he couldn’t easily identify. Scattered amongst them were a handful of Enterprise crew members who were either drinking, dancing, or playing what seemed to be the planet’s equivalent of pool. Jim smiled politely as one of his engineers seemed to score a point and all the players cheered.
A drink appeared at the table. “Thanks,” Jim said.
“No problem.” Jim whipped his head around at the unfamiliar voice. The bartender he had just mentioned was standing in front of him, grinning widely. “Hey, Kirk. Bet you didn’t expect to see me here.”
“Uh, hi?” He scanned the room for Bones or any members of his security team in case he needed to call for help. “Have we met before?”
“Come on,” the man said. His smile seemed genuine and enthusiastic, but that didn’t disarm Jim at all. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember me. We used to hang out all the time at the Academy!”
A faint memory arose of meeting the bartender, many years ago, at a mixer in San Francisco. He had no idea how the man had remembered that. “Oh, yeah, it’s good to see you again,” he said, politely extending his hand as he racked his brain for a name. “Sorry, I don’t remember-”
The bartender took his hand but then pulled him in for a hug. “Ha, ha, very funny.” He patted Jim on the back. “I know it’s been a while, but come on.”
Thankfully, Bones saved him from any further awkwardness by appearing just then. “Hey.” He returned to his seat at the table and handed Jim his drink, then nodded at the bartender standing next to them. “Who’s your friend?”
The bartender smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Gordy Weitzer. Kirk and I were tight at the Academy.”
Bones shot Jim an amused look as he shook Gordy’s hand. “Really? He’s never mentioned you.”
“I mean, we met,” Jim interjected. “Once or twice, maybe.”
Gordy just laughed. “Can’t say I blame him for pretending not to know me.” He gave Jim a playful nudge. “Considering I dropped out in our third year to tend bar and he became-” he looks down at the rank braids on Jim’s wrist and his eyes widen “-shit, a captain? Really? I thought you were going to be a science officer.”
“Are you sure you’re not thinking of someone else?” Jim asked with a frown. None of this was adding up for him, despite Gordy’s clear belief to the contrary. “I enrolled in the Academy on the Command track. I never even considered anything else.”
Gordy shook his head, still grinning. “No, I remember you telling me that you never wanted to be in charge of anyone. Said there were too many commanders in your family already.”
Somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, a moment materialized back into Jim’s conscious memory. One time at the Academy, Sam had lost his communicator. Jim had offered to help him locate it and ended up tracing it to a dorm room that belonged to a friend of his brother’s. When he’d gone to pick it up, the friend had introduced himself as Gordy.
Jim’s stomach turned. “Oh,” he heard himself saying. “I’m sorry, but I have…Starfleet business to deal with. It was good to see you again.” He stumbled out of his chair and fled the bar, nearly dragging Bones with him.
Outside, Bones pulled his sleeve free of Jim’s grasp. “Hey, what was that about?” he asked. “Your friend seemed nice.”
“He wasn’t my friend,” Jim said. “He was Sam’s.”
“But he said-” Bones broke off and made a noise of understanding. “Shit,” he breathed after a moment. “He thought you were Sam?”
“Yeah,” Jim said.
“He didn’t hear…?”
“I guess not.” Jim fidgeted with his hands. “I know I should have told him, but I just couldn’t, you know?”
“I’m sorry,” Bones said. “It must be hard to just be reminded like that. I know you were looking forward to having a simple night out.”
Jim shrugged. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s not your fault.”
“Still.” Bones gave him a sympathetic look, then wrapped an arm around Jim’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”