"This isn't going to work," said McCoy.
"Of course it is," Jim replied, as he always did, because Bones always thought something would go wrong. Then he slouched back in his chair, letting his hands drop from table to lap. "Yeah, you're right."
Bones gave an interrogative hum.
"It won't work. Unless I can convince a teleporter to accidentally produce a second me."
Bones turned away from the datapad to give him a sharp look. "One, you're the one who promised me that was in no way possible, that teleporters were, and I quote, 'safer than crosswalks.' And two, no. One of you is plenty."
"I suppose housing and upkeep would be an issue."
"Yeah, that's the concern," McCoy muttered.