Jim lets himself be pressed against the wall with the ease of a man well acquainted with the experience.

Several cups of wine down, Jim can't quite remember how he got into this, but he imagines the evening had proceeded as it always does when Jim is caught between a foul mood and ready alcohol. He'd beamed down with the other prisoners, full of hope, only to be greeted not with rescue, but the sight of an ancient Terran city. There's nothing here that can help any of them, no comms or radios, no signals to be built or boosted, nothing but people in crazy outfits and women who -

Oh right. The women. That's probably how Jim got here.

"Listen, man," he says, clapping an unsteady hand on the meaty shoulder in front of him. "I didn't know she was your sister. I didn't even know she was there until she had half a hand down my trousers."

In front of him, the closest, angriest man gets into the kind of personal space Jim generally reserves for lovers, and it's a moment before Jim can drunkenly parse what's being said to him. Between the man's breath and a distinct lack of deodorant, it's a little hard to think, but he catches code duello and secondo clearly enough.

"You want to tumble, big guy?" Jim says, breaking into a grin that only widens when he sees someone over the man's shoulder.

"Spock!" Jim barks happily. "Just in time, buddy, I need a second. Can you believe I'm about to fight a guy in pantaloons? I've been going boldly for a whole year now, and this is still a first!"