J waited in the terminal. The entire place was blindingly white, making him feel a bit like a fly in a bowl of milk with his black attire. Like the rest of MiB headquarters, the terminal was constructed out of the same ultra-smooth alien material that seemed to glow with a faint internal luminescence. That, combined with the white furniture—he sat in a bank of white chairs made of the same polymer material—and lack of any wall decor made the entire place whiter than Wonderbread. Now J understood the other reason for his standard-issue, anti-neuralyzer MiB sunglasses.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and tried not to fidget. His partner K was returning today from a month-long mission off-planet. He'd bristled at not being sent along with his partner, but K had simply said, "Not this time, Junior. Maybe in a few more years when you're old enough to drive."

J had grumbled something about "filming a sequel to Grumpier Old Men" and surreptitiously flipped him the bird.

But after a month, he had to admit that he'd missed the old coot.

A beeping sound alerted him that K's shuttle had arrived and was going through final docking procedures. As part of the standard protocol, the ship was scanned and put through a cursory decontamination to prevent any stray extraterrestrial germs from being released here on Earth. MiB agents still talked about swine flu outbreak of 2009, when some Waikserajian who didn't believe in vaccines had brought its offspring to visit Tokyo Disneyland. What a mess.

J stood as the alert sounded again, and the door to the walkway opened. A stream of aliens of all sizes and shapes trickled in, following a glowing pathway in the floor that would lead them to the MiB customs check-in area.

He waited patiently as he was passed by tall, hulking two-headed humanoids; multi-armed, multi-eyed reptilians; even a gelatinous Muxedini (wheeled by in a glass cylinder on a flatbed, pushed by two white-suited MiB crew technicians). A tentacled Tarlanxian bumped into him as it slithered by, but the creature immediately quivered its entire bulbous body while releasing a cloud of pungent pheromones that smelled vaguely of sauerkraut, by way of apology.

J held his breath until the creature passed, then waved his hand vigorously in front of his face to dispel the olfactory message.

Finally, the tide slowed, and J shuffled from foot to foot when his partner still didn't appear. He leaned to one side to see if he could peer through the gateway, beginning to seriously wonder if K was on the shuttle. But Zed had assured him that K was arriving here, today.

He was thinking about boarding the shuttle to see if K had fallen asleep and missed the fact that he'd arrived home. Or had a heart attack, maybe a stroke. The dude was old, after all.

And that's when he heard the singing.

You're not the only one who's made mistakes/But they're the only thing you can truly call your own/Don't forget your second wind/Sooner or later you'll get your second wind.

The voice was definitely K's. Gruff, gravely, with just a touch of twang to it. But the man who stepped through the doorway, wearing a colorful shirt that looked like something that would have been produced if Picasso and Escher had dropped acid together, didn't look at all like K.

For one thing, he looked... young. No wrinkly bags under his eyes, no sagging jowls or turkey wattle under his chin. And the hair was darker—definitely darker and thicker. And the bounce in his step as he continued to hum the Billy Joel song hadn't been there when he'd left. He was relaxed.

Well. Day-um.

When K caught sight of J, he broke into a big smile. Even the older agent's teeth were whiter.

"Hey, Ace, you're here to meet my flight. Isn't that nice of you?"

In his line of work, J was used to dealing with strange things on a regular basis. Few were the days when at least two or three things didn't peg his weird-shit-o-meter into the red. He was trained to be nonplussed in the face of the bizarre, to assess situations that would make lesser men quake in their boots and to act quickly and with confidence. But right now, his partner was creeping him out. He was aware that his mouth was hanging open and closed it so hard and fast that his teeth clicked together.

"K, man, what did you do?"

"Besides negotiate a new treaty with the Arquillians to ensure the safety of their royal family members seeking sanctuary on Earth?" K shrugged. "Had myself a little vacation afterward."

"No, no, no... I'm talking about—" he waved his hands in a large circle that encompassed most of K, "—this. You...Your face... You...," he stammered.

"Oh, you wondering about my face, Slick?" K asked with a cocky smirk.

"Hell yeah!"

"Age regression. Arquillians were so happy with the treaty they took twenty years off me. I feel like a new man."

J raised an eyebrow. "So you got an alien facelift?"

"Nah. Age regression. I don't just look twenty years younger, I am twenty years younger. Means you might have trouble keeping up with me now, Sport."

J chuckled. "Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it."

K stepped closer into J's personal space and, before the younger man could react, grabbed him by the shoulders and hooked a leg behind his knee. J landed hard on the floor with K straddling his slim hips. K surged forward, pinning both of J's hands next to his head.

J let out an "oof" of surprise, which morphed into a moan when K ground his hips down in an lurid circle. K leaned over J, staring for a moment into J's confused brown eyes.

Then he extended his tongue and licked a line along J's jaw from one ear to the other.

"Kaaaayyyy! Dude, what the hell?" He bucked to try to throw his partner off, then bit his lip when the motion brought his dick into harder contact with K's still gyrating hips. The entire situation was getting very surreal... and very hot. He'd never even thought of his partner in that way, but that was because he was an old white guy. Except now he was a younger, friskier, more agile white guy. And J was getting incredibly turned on.

K pulled back from where he was licking around the shell of J's ear with a satisfied leer. Then he suddenly released J's hands and stood up, holding his own hand out to the prone man.

"Traditional Arquillian greeting," K shrugged, straight-faced. "Just wanted to show you that I missed you, too, partner."