When they got off the shuttle, Jim was sure she'd never see the grumpy doctor again. That made her inexplicably sad, which in turn confused her. Jim Kirk, forever unattached, feeling some sense of kinsman ship with a man who must be certifiably insane, gauging from his rant on space? Strange.

What was even stranger was the relief she felt when she saw him again at the line for late housing. They were the only two from their shuttle and were the last two in line, and when they were told that there were few options left for housing except for co-ed rooming, she hoped against all hope that she could be paired with him. It had to be the hangover.

"Do you have any preferences for roommates?" the attendant asked McCoy (was that his name?).

"Hell if I care. I don't know anyone else here," he grumbled. "Stick me with whomever you want, preferably no communal showers if you got 'em. You got no idea the nasties that grow in there."

"We do, we have one left. Would you like that one?"

"Didn't I - didn't I just say that I wanted no communal showers? Yes, I would like that room."

He signed his name on the PADD next to the room, and grabbed the key card from the attendant. He grabbed his bag, singular then headed in the general direction of his new dorm. Jim watched him until the attendant cleared his throat. She turned back to the attendant and stated she wanted no communal showers. She signed her name under his (it was McCoy), and ran after him.

"Hey! Hey, uh, McCoy!"

McCoy stopped and turned towards the voice. He saw the girl from the shuttle that he'd sat next to running towards him. "Forget something, kid?"

"No! I just figured that since we were rooming together, we could walk together," she said, struggling to catch her breath. "God, my ribs hurt."

"Yeah, that's what happens when you get in bar fights. You probably bruised something." He resumed walking and Kirk waited for the recognition of her first statement. McCoy stopped abruptly and spun on his heel. She ran into him. "We're what now?"

"Rooming together. Roomies? Bunk mates? I hate communal showers, too germy," she said brightly, grinning at his scowl.

"You gotta be kidding me," McCoy muttered. He glanced her over, and noticed she had less than he did. "Where's your bag, kid?"

"Eh, don't have one. 'Sides, they'll be giving me all I need, uniforms and PADDs for class. Don't need anything else."

"No pictures, no vids, nothing?"

"Nobody that cares." She began towards the dorm again.

McCoy baffled at the woman walking in front of him. She seemed to have less than he did, a divorcee with no job and no home. Yet she still grinned at everything. Strange.