“If it’s synthetic alcohol,” began Lieutenant Julius Ashworthy between violent chuckles, “does it really count as day drinking?” He was dangerously twirling a glass between two fingers and lying flat across one of the booths tucked nearest to the bar. Both his feet and head dangled off the edge.

“Yes. Absolutely. It still counts,” came the voice of an inebriated Ensign, equally sprawled out on the next booth. “And for the record, nothing we’ve had so far is synthetic.” The junior officer giggled, then moved to cover their mouth to hold back sick.

“Fair… fair…,” replied Julius – who preferred to go by Jules – hiccuping between words. “I meant… more philo… philosopho…. philo…sophically. You know?” He turned in the booth so his stomach was now pressed into the cushions. “Also, second question. Is 0500 considered day – or just early ass morning?”

Jules looked over to watch his date squirm and alternate between giggles and heavy gasps for air. Maybe they had indeed had too much to drink. But the date had been going so well – it needed to end with something risky. He made to roll over and lean in for the kiss that in that moment he suddenly realized he wanted – before letting out a squeal that could only be described as ‘neither dignified nor manly‘ as he spilled out of his seat and landed hard on the floor.

Laughing hard, the Ensign reached out a hand and patted Jules on the head, fingers twisted gently through the red hair. “I think someone’s screwed for their shift,” he said through bits of full laughter.

Jules looked up and smiled. “Jokes on you – I’m off today!”

“Oh,” answered the Ensign. “Me too…” They locked eyes, sloppy grins on their faces, as they let the quiet of the empty mess hall fall between them. A moment later, they continued. “You know…”

“Yeah?” asked Jules.

“We could, if you wanted to…”

A heavy chime rang out across the room. Instinctively, Jules lowered his head in defeat while simultaneously focusing his drunken brain to listen in.

“All Senior Staff report to the briefing room.“

With a groan, Jules pitched himself to the side and planted a strong but quick kiss on his date’s lips before pulling himself up and dusting off his pants. He stumbled, blood and booze rushing to his head, but he managed to correct himself just in time. The room was spinning.

“I might actually be totally screwed,” he groaned, looking for the badge he had used unceremoniously as a bottle opener at least an hour earlier. He found it – sticky – and quickly slammed it onto his shirt.

“See you again!” he called back to the bewildered Ensign as he stepped out into the corridor. Using the wall of the hallway for support, he made his way quickly to the nearest lift.

“Ashworthy to Walker,” he managed, tapping his badge before taking in a big gulp of air to stave off vomiting. “I need your help.”

A chortle came through his badge.

“What if I said no?” barked Commander Bridgette Walker, the chief medical officer of the USS Gilroy and Jules’ usual drinking buddy.

“Then I’d likely toss my cookies up on our good Commander and get demoted back to cadet,” he replied, entering the floor of his crew quarters on the lift’s computer.

“Oh, I would love to see that,” laughed Walker, and Jules could hear the sounds of her getting dressed herself in the background.

“I’m begging you,” said Jules, a slight desperation taking over. “Please.”

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” she muttered. “But okay – I’ll meet you outside the briefing room.“

Less than ten minutes later, Jules exited the lift onto the bridge, quickly dressed in his uniform and still running fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it. His face lit up when he indeed saw the short, older medical officer outside the doors.

“You’re a lifesaver, Betty,” he said, bending down to kiss her cheek. He immediately felt the dull stab of an injection in his neck, and then an instant feeling of relief spread through him.

“It might help clear up most of the symptoms, Jules, but it’s not a cure-all. And your breath is horrible.” When Jules gawked at her, panic running through his face, she cackled violently and pushed the button to open the briefing door. She walked in, leaving Jules standing outside for a moment.

“Are you coming, Lieutenant?” came the stern voice of Commander Mall. “We need to begin.”