She returned to Quark's and walked up to the bar, her mood completely deflated. A few of the Alphans were singing loudly in a corner. Maya recognised it as a cheerful European football song about lions that Bill always wanted to sing every time they had a match. She knew it so well she was half tempted to sing along. Not that it suited her present mood at all. (2)

"If they sing that once more, I'm throwing them out," grumbled Quark as he approached. "Now, what can I get you, Maya?" he asked more kindly.

Maya frowned thoughtfully for a moment; she knew that thanks to the replicators, Quark could get her anything she wanted. She tried to think of something that would cheer her up. Alcohol would no doubt do the trick, but she was loath to drink when she knew she wasn't used to it. The only alcohol she had ever drunk was Tony's infamous beer; that was hardly encouragement to try any others.

Her mind lingered on the thought of Tony tinkering with his brewing machine. She remembered the last time they had been on Alpha together, just before the Jem'Hadar attack, when she had teased him by taking Major Kira's shape. Maya's heart sank as she realised what a mistake that must have been. She knew she could have stopped Tony from going with Kira if she'd had the presence of mind to tell him she loved him. Even if she didn't, at least she could have kept him with her... but kept him for what? To take him to Cardassia? And what if it turned out she was mistaking infatuation for love -- was that enough to build their future lives on? Her thoughts simply brought her back to the same arguments that had made her hesitate in the first place. All Maya knew for sure was that she didn't want Tony to be with Kira.

"I can always come back later if you're not ready to order now," she heard Quark say. Maya realised she had been staring into space for some time and shook herself out of her reverie.

"You were right," she said simply, turning to look at the Ferengi's wizened orange face. "What you said last night -- it's true. He's with her right now."

Maya could have sworn one of the bottles on the counter behind Quark shimmered unnaturally for a moment. She stared at it, but was unable to decide whether it had really moved or she had been the victim of an optical illusion.

"I'm sorry," said Quark sincerely; looking at him, Maya saw that his small eyes were full of sympathy. "Here, whatever you want, it's on the house."

"All my drinks are on the Federation, aren't they?" Maya smiled, though she was still curious about the bottle.

Quark flashed a toothy grin at her. "Oh, well, in that case, whatever you want is on the Federation. Now, have you decided what you'd like to drink yet?"

"What would you suggest?"

"I think I have just what you need to cheer up," he said, waving a finger at her.

Maya watched the Ferengi as he fetched different bottles and poured small quantities of their contents into a glass, producing a clear, transparent beverage. Curious, Maya reached for it, but Quark stopped her hand. Folding his middle finger against his thumb, he flicked his green nail against the rim of the glass and the beverage turned to iridescent and then orange.

Maya was so surprised that she involuntarily clapped her hands with delight. "Oh, that's lovely! What is it?"

"A Samarian Sunset. A drink for pretty ladies," said Quark smoothly, handing her the colourful glass.

Maya smiled as she prepared to taste the drink. Looking over Quark's shoulder, she realised the bottle she had observed earlier was gone. So Odo is wasting his time spying on me, she thought wryly, when he should be keeping an eye on that girlfriend of his.

Her musings were interrupted as Dax came to join her. "Maya, we need to go to Ops. The wormhole has just opened."

"How did the game go?" asked Nerys conversationally, as she and Tony waited for the Turbolift to the Habitat Ring. "I heard you were doing very well."

"Oh, yes, we beat Starfleet 3-1! That'll teach them to call us 'primitive humans'. Mind you, they were one man down for most of the second half, but then that's the price of Worf for knocking me out!" exclaimed Tony with a grin.

"Why did he do that?" asked Nerys, standing aside to let people off the lift.

"Usual old reason," said Tony. "He probably didn't like the look of me. And I called him a few names too, which didn't help. I doubt he knows much Italian, but I think he could guess what I was saying."

Nerys laughed and walked into the lift; she barely noticed that they were alone in it. "I see you've been making lots of friends."

"Oh yes, I'm Mister Popular on Deep Space Nine," declared Tony as the lift glided toward the Habitat Ring. "Odo hates me, Maya has ditched me and now some Klingon brute wants to kill me. I definitely have a line in making friends and influencing people!"

Nerys laughed and chose not to remark on the bit about Maya 'ditching' him. The girl obviously didn't appreciate what Tony was offering her; Nerys reflected that she had once treated Odo exactly the same way, something she had come to regret once she was involved with him. She could probably give the Psychon some good advice about the advantages of being in a relationship with a man who worshipped her. On the other hand, Nerys was in no mood for giving lectures. Especially as her relationship with Odo was hardly a great success right now.

Deciding that she should say something to cheer Tony up, Nerys cast a glance at his current accoutrement. Most collective games Nerys knew were not played half-naked, but rather with sensible, formfitting costumes; even Sisko's favourite Earth game, 'baseball', required the contestants to be dressed. Tony's outfit left not only his arms uncovered, but, more disturbingly, his legs as well. Nerys wasn't used to seeing the legs of human males.

"You really don't like that uniform of yours, do you, Tony?" she remarked. "Every time I see you, you seem to be wearing something else."

"Usually less, right?" said Tony. He immediately put on the jacket he was carrying. "Better? I must say you do have a habit of walking in on me when I'm in various states of undress. I only hope you like what you see," he added more quietly.

"I've seen better," she said with a smile, looking him over again.

Tony's eyes lit up and he moved closer, evidently interpreting the comment as an encouragement. "I'll bet you have. Being cooped up on the Moon didn't really do much for my complexion. You probably won't believe this, but I used to be quite good-looking when I was young."

"Oh? And when was that, then?" asked Nerys, as though she couldn't possibly imagine him ever being young.

"Well, about 400 years ago, of course," he replied. "I'm currently... what was it? Yes, 407 years old. Strictly speaking, I'll be 408 in November."

"All right, I'll admit you don't look bad for a 400-year-old."

Tony took another step closer and Nerys could smell the replicated mud from his clothes. "I'd like to think I don't look bad for a 40-year-old, either," he said with a confident smile that made her shiver.

"I think you don't look bad for someone with such a big ego, either," remarked Nerys, turning away. She felt the deceleration of the lift and involuntarily sighed with relief.

The door opened and they stepped out into the empty corridor. "I'm not as narcissistic as you seem to think, Nerys," said Tony as she walked with him in the direction of the Alphans' quarters. She could hear the levity in his voice. "It's not like I'm making it all up. I mean, I'm handsome, I'm funny, I'm in a position of authority... besides, it's a well known fact that no woman can resist an Italian."

"Really?" she said dubiously.

"Well, maybe it's just that no woman can resist me."

Tony said that with such mock seriousness that Nerys couldn't help laughing. "I find that hard to believe."

"And you're right," he agreed without missing a beat. "I know someone who's been resisting me for years."

"Ah, the elusive Maya." Nerys narrowed her eyes knowingly, aware that it was a gesture most men found seductive.

"Yeah," he said shortly, stopping to look at Nerys. "I'll bet you look great in something else than your uniform, too."

"Like a swimsuit?" she asked, remembering him on the beach the previous day.

Tony guffawed and raised his hands innocently. "You're the one who said it, Nerys...but, yes, if you ever decide to visit Risa, be sure to let me know!" He chuckled and then his smile faded. "If you didn't already have someone to take you there, I'd do it myself..."

Nerys felt a sudden rush of adrenaline tense up her body, draining the blood from her face and making her heart beat faster. She could take advantage of Tony's remark to say that she did indeed have someone else. Then she could walk away, forget about all this and go back to the Promenade, to tell Odo about the plan for tonight as was her original intention. But she didn't.

She took a step back and leaned against the nearest bulkhead. "Odo doesn't like beaches," she said softly.

As Nerys had expected, Tony moved closer, though he was smiling again. He looked down and slowly traced the top of her belt, making her shudder with the unexpected touch. When he lifted his eyes back to her face; they were twinkling with amusement. "I suppose he'd get lots of sand in him."

Nerys burst out laughing at the mental image that brought to mind. She knew it was cruel to laugh at Odo, Odo who loved her so much but whom she did not love and who could not make her feel so euphoric with his laughter and his closeness and his scent and the feel of his lips on hers. Odo had no scent, just a vague odour of the stale air in his small office on the Promenade, not the scent of a humanoid like herself, made of flesh and blood, a humanoid from a sibling race and who tasted of beer and sweat and desire.

Tony's mouth left her lips and moved to attack her neck and Nerys took in a deep breath, like a gasp for air although she could still breathe, even pinned to the bulkhead as she was. She looked up at the ceiling, her head spinning and her mind emptied of thought, the lights blurred by her half-closed eyes. Tony's embrace loosened suddenly and Nerys' gaze refocused; she turned to look at him uncomprehendingly.

"I think we need a change of venue," he explained breathlessly.

"Oh, Prophets! And I'm still on duty," she reminded herself out loud.

"Now she tells me!" Tony was laughing, probably at her and himself and the whole ludicrous situation. "I'm definitely jinxed," he added, shaking his head incredulously. He leaned against the bulkhead beside her and ran his hand flat over her uniform. "I see I managed to get some holographic mud on you."

Nerys glanced down at herself and smiled; there was no mud to be seen. "I'm sorry," she said. "I do have to go back to Ops." That was the truth; she wasn't supposed to be on the Habitat Ring at all. "Maybe next time."

"Oh, there's going to be a next time, is there?" exclaimed Tony with an uncertain smile.

Nerys looked at him. She opened her mouth and then realised she couldn't make any promises either way. Tony kissed her again, more gently this time, and she ran her hands up underneath his jacket, on the back of his muddy shirt.

Tony finally let go of her and stepped away. "So... you're going back?" Nerys nodded. "Well... I, ah, I need to go and... have a... a shower and change and stuff," he stuttered. "I guess I'll see you in Julian's holosuite night club tonight."

"Yes," she said, still dazed by the whole chain of events. "I'll... I'll see you later." And with that, she took a deep breath and walked back to the lift.

"The Moon would have entered orbit around the Bajoran sun?"

John couldn't believe his ears. He watched the simulation on Sisko's desk; it showed that the wormhole's unexpected opening would have diverted the Moon just enough to allow it to enter the Bajoran system without hitting Bajor VIII. Given the relative positions the Moon and the planet would have been in at 1800, Deep Space Nine's computer came to the conclusion that Alpha would have then gone on to assume a medium orbit around the sun.

"The computer calculates the odds as being 7 to 1," explained Dax. "Obviously, we can't start speculating on what might have been... It's too late now. But when the wormhole opened, Maya and I decided to run a simulation, and you see the result. We thought you might like to know."

"At least it gives us some idea what the Prophets were talking about when they were asking you both not to destroy the Moon," said Maya. "They presumably knew that the Eagle would open the wormhole and that there was a chance this would allow Alpha to orbit the sun."

John stayed silent for a moment, too angry to trust himself to say anything. Even though he had spent the last six years hoping his people might some day be able to leave Alpha behind and settle somewhere else, contemplating this near miss made John very bitter. The Alphans had preserved all the possessions and equipment they had had on the Moon, but the erstwhile satellite itself had been their last link to the Earth they had grown up on. Now that he knew the Moon could have been saved, John realised how much he was going to miss it.

"That's why they kept telling me we were going to find a new home," he said finally. "If Alpha had entered the Bajoran system unharmed, we could have stayed there."

"With our technology, we might even have been able to create an artificial atmosphere on the Moon," said Dax.

John remembered the one time that had happened to Alpha. He exchanged a glance with Maya, but then remembered she hadn't been with them at the time. Five years ago, the Moon had very nearly entered orbit around an alien sun. The existing inhabitants of the system had equipped Alpha with an artificial atmosphere and, for a few days until the Moon drifted back out into interstellar space, the Alphans had enjoyed an outdoor life on the surface of their home. (3)

"There's no point thinking about what might have been," said Sisko ponderously. "But I wonder why the Prophets were so keen to see you settle in this system."

"Maybe they took pity on us," suggested Maya with a wan smile.

"Perhaps they wanted you to stay here," said Sisko. John noticed that the captain looked at Maya as he spoke. "I'm beginning to think your presence in this universe is no coincidence. The odds of that Eagle hitting the centre of the wormhole were too long. I doubt the Prophets would have bothered to pay attention to a detail like that unless it was of vital importance to them."

Knowing as he did Maya's connection with the Dominion in this universe, John had come to the same conclusion, although he couldn't share that thought with the Starfleets.

"What could be of vital importance to the Prophets?" asked John. "If they live in the wormhole and outside of linear time, surely Alpha would be of no significance to them."

"The Prophets consider themselves the protectors of the Bajoran people; we can only assume that their purpose had something to do with a threat to Bajor." Sisko looked at Maya thoughtfully. "I was hoping to find some reference to the Moon or its inhabitants in the ancient texts, but there appears to be no mention of this event anywhere. The Prophets have usually announced any important event beforehand, albeit in a form which is only comprehensible after the fact -- but then that is typical of any oracle."

"Maybe they can't foresee things that come from an alternate universe," suggested Dax. As everyone turned to look at her, she smiled innocently. "I'm not a theologian; it's just a hunch."

"You might be right," agreed Maya. "The Prophets may be specialists on predicting the future, but inherently, that means they can only be observing one universe at a time. The theory of quantum realities postulates that for every 'yes' or 'no' decision, both decisions are taken, thus splitting the universe. The result is an infinity of different realities, so an infinity of possible futures for any given point in time. It's conceivable the Prophets only exist in their present form in this particular reality, not in ours, so they can only predict events that occur in this universe."

"A Starfleet manual couldn't have put it better," said Dax. "But quantum realities only apply to linear time. Beings that live outside time should, in theory, be able to see all of the different quantum threads at once. This does in fact explain the Prophet's ability to view events that are likely to happen rather than those which will happen."

John could see at least one other flaw in Maya's theory; the wormhole existed in both realities, which meant the Prophets probably did as well. But he was in no mood for a philosophical discussion which would lead nowhere. It was interesting to know what the Prophets were hoping for when they had contacted Sisko and John, but as far as the commander could tell, it made absolutely no difference to the Alphans' present situation.

"Whatever the Prophets' plans were, they have failed," he said sternly. "We need to concentrate on what we're going to do next."

Dax smiled brightly. "That's exactly what I'll be concentrating on. We want to make sure the Alphan's future is a good one. But in the meantime, what we're going to do right now is go to Vic's."

//Fly me to the moon
 And let me play among the stars
 Let me see what spring is like
 On Jupiter and Mars// (4)

Tony wondered if Julian had had the bad taste to ask for the song, or if it was just an unfortunate feature of the programme. Perhaps it was simply part of the holographic band's usual repertoire. Looking around, Tony wondered what 24th century weirdo had thought this programme up. As far as he could tell, he was standing in a fair approximation of a Sixties night-club, complete with a crooner on stage. Just when I thought things couldn't get any stranger... he reflected.

It didn't take Tony long to spot the Alphan and Starfleet tables in the dim light, though he felt his heart sink as the first thing he noticed was Maya's long red hair. She was sitting with her back to him, looking up at the stage. He could see her clear cut features profiled in the dark, the slope of her nose, the curves of her lips, her beautiful long throat. He barely noticed that Kate and Alibe were at the table with her, while Julian and Sandra shared a table nearby.

Tony hesitated before joining them. He couldn't talk to Maya after what had happened earlier. A bitter pang of guilt tore at his heart at the very thought. Tony would have liked to think he'd have more restraint than to pounce on Deep Space Nine's first officer in a corridor, but there were evidently no limits to the ways in which he could surprise himself.

"Tony! Hey, we're over here!" called out Alibe, waving her arm.

There was no escape. All the others, including Maya, had turned to look at him. Tony felt he had no choice but to go and join them. As he approached, he noticed that Alibe was the only black person in the holosuite -- no doubt a touch of realism on the part of the programmer.

"Hiya, Tone," exclaimed Kate, lighting a cigarette. "I say, you look like James Bond in that tux. Very chic."

Tony grinned and lifted an eyebrow, straightening his bow tie. "All right, then, who'sh playing Pushy Galore?"

"Maya, no doubt," laughed Alibe. "She'd probably make a good James Bond girl. I can just see her in a furry bikini." Maya responded to this comment with an uncharacteristic giggle.

Tony found that a chair seemed to have miraculously materialised beside him. "I think you have several references mixed up there, baby," he said, pulling the chair up to the table, beside Maya. The other two women moved over to make way for him. "You know John would have a fit if he saw you smoking, Alibe," he remarked, pointing at the cigarette in her hand.

"Oh, come on," said Alibe with a shrug. "We're not on Alpha anymore. We don't have to worry about clogging up the life-support systems or whatever. Besides, the instructions on this holosuite say that nothing you eat, drink or do in here will harm you."

"So, want one?" offered Kate, picking up the case on the table.

"Um, no thanks." Tony realised he had forgotten just how offensive the smell of tobacco could be. He was not tempted to resume the habit. "Anyway, talking about furry bikinis, we all know who looks good in those," he said, looking pointedly at Sandra. She was in conversation with Julian, but she did cast a glance at the other table when she realised they were looking at her.

"Oh, yes, of course, the leopard skin bikini!" exclaimed Alibe much more loudly than necessary.

One of the Alphan's more bizarre adventures had involved some kind of de-evolving mist that had reverted most of the crew to stone age creatures. Somehow, in the course of the adventure, a de-evolved Commander Koenig had got Sandra to dress up in a garment that looked rather like a leopard skin bikini. Tony had remarkably vivid memories of the costume; it was around that time that he -- and indeed half the male population on the base -- had decided he wouldn't mind going out with Sandra. (5)

The communications officer had heard Alibe's last remark. "Oh, you are so silly!" she said, though she was smiling. "That was years ago!" Julian evidently wanted to know what the joke was about, but Sandra shook her head; it was probably not something she wanted to explain.

Turning to look at Maya, Tony found that she was laughing with the others. Encouraged by her apparent good mood, he decided he was brave enough to talk to her. She didn't know what he had done, after all. Not yet.

"Hello you," he said gently. "I've barely seen you all day. What have you been up to?"

Maya's expression was not unfriendly, but there was a coldness in her eyes that made him feel as though he was talking to a new date, rather than a girl he had loved for four years. Maybe Maya didn't feel she had to be kind to Tony now she had told him she didn't love him.

"I've been learning all sorts of interesting things," she said, her voice slightly slurred and her Psychon accent more pronounced than usual. "About warp drives, transporters and human nature. Far more interesting than yet another of your football matches." She waved her hand disdainfully.

If he didn't know better he would have sworn Maya was drunk. But with Kate and Alibe no doubt hanging on every word, he decided not to say anything untoward.

"I'll have you know my football matches are fascinating, especially when we win!" he declared.

"Ah, but you can't always win, Tony," said Maya philosophically.

Tony stared at her, unsure what to say. There was definitely something different in her attitude tonight and he didn't think it had anything to do with the drink. It was possible that she had heard and believed the rumours about him and Nerys. Perhaps that even explained what she had told him the previous night.

What she had told him... Had he been alone, Tony might have slapped his forehead in frustration. This should have occurred to him before. It all made sense: Maya had told him she didn't love him because she thought he was interested in Nerys. And like the complete prat that he was, he had found nothing better to do than to immediately jump into Nerys' arms. Barring that mistake, he could have redeemed himself in Maya's eyes and proved that the rumours were wrong. But now that he had made them true, there wasn't much to be done.

Tony wished the holosuite floor would open and swallow him up. Alternatively, he could probably go to the docking ring and throw himself out of an airlock. Even burying his face in his hands would have made him feel a bit better. But none of those were realistic possibilities, so he picked up the cigarette case on the table and observed it unseeingly for a moment.

"Maya," he said finally, turning towards her. "I need to talk to you. I've been such a..."

"Shut up, Tony. I'm listening to the music," she said impatiently.

Tony looked down at the cigarette case again as the reflections from the stage caught his eye. He was tired from the football match and the worry, and the guilt he felt at having kissed Nerys made him tongue tied and depressed. How could everything collapse in one week? He had no home, no command, no girlfriend, no family, no future... not even the mental comfort of being an honourable man.

"I ah... I think I'll go and get myself a drink," he said finally.

The crooner was winding down his Sinatra imitation as Tony approached the bar. He reflected that it should be possible to create Old Blue Eyes himself in a holosuite; unless of course there was some kind of copyright infringement involved. It wouldn't have surprised Tony at all if Sinatra had secured his rights up to the 30th century. As it was, the holographic crooner wasn't all that bad, though Tony had never particularly liked that type of music.

Having got his drink, Tony decided to stay at the bar rather than go back to Maya. There was nothing he could say to make things better, so he might just as well keep quiet and let Maya get on with her life. He was pensively finishing off an olive when he saw the holographic crooner coming towards him. They exchanged some general small talk about the show and the crooner, who called himself Vic, asked if Tony had any requests.

"I suppose you know 'Volare'," suggested Tony. Off the top of his head, it was the only Italian song he could think of that a 1960s crooner would know. Further reflection proposed 'O Sole Mio' and 'Una Lacrima Sul Viso' as alternatives, but by then Vic had nodded enthusiastically.

"Do I ever! Am I to take it you're a Dino fan, Mister Verdeschi?" asked the hologram with a pleasant smile.

"Well, my parents were into all that stuff," admitted Tony, shrugging this shoulders. "Actually... don't tell the others, but my brother and I were named after Sinatra and Martin. My brother's middle name was Frank -- mine is Dean. I guess my parents liked the idea of Italians doing so well in the States."

"Ah, parents," exclaimed Vic. "Someone to blame for all your misfortunes!"

In spite of himself, Tony was quite impressed with Vic: he had never imagined he would find a self-aware holographic crooner such good company. There was evidently a lot more to 24th century holographic technology than simply recreating beaches and football stadiums.

"But I do think your parents have good taste, Mister Verdeschi," continued the crooner. "You can't go wrong with Frank and Dean. It'll be a pleasure to sing 'Volare' for you. Just one thing, though: make sure you invite that lovely lady of yours to dance. I know you don't think she likes you, but she does."

"Oh really?" said Tony coldly, surprised at the hologram's sudden intrusion into his private life.

Undeterred by the Italian's reaction, Vic pointed a finger at him and smiled knowingly. "Let me tell you something. You could say I'm designed to spot these things -- believe me, that chick's crazy about you. She might not know it yet, but she is."

"Maya isn't a 'chick'," said Tony shortly.

"You're right, she's a lady," agreed the hologram. "But she's a lady who doesn't know what she wants, and who isn't going to find out if you're hiding over here at the bar!"

Tony shook his head, unconvinced. "I don't think I'm that important. I'm hardly God's gift to women."

"Have you been taking self-esteem-lowering courses from Odo or what?" exclaimed Vic, spreading his hands. "Where's that Italian zest for life?"

"I don't think I ever had it. I was born with a Northern European depression. In any case, you... you don't understand. Things haven't been... working out between us," said Tony vaguely. He didn't want to tell Vic about Nerys, but on the other hand, he did want to make it clear this problems wouldn't be solved by asking Maya to dance. "I'm definitely in her bad books."

"Come on. Whatever it is, I doubt she'll be angry for long," said Vic soothingly. "She's crazy about you, I tell you. Her pretty little face lit up like a Christmas tree when you walked in -- until she remembered whatever it is she's supposed to be mad about and started to ignore you. Trust me, you go and ask her to dance. What's the worst that can happen?"

"She could tell me to get lost... again."

"Well, you just keep asking her, and I guarantee you some day she'll say yes," said the hologram confidently as he turned grandiosely to his orchestra.

Great. There's the next twenty years of my life all planned out, thought Tony wryly as Vic began to sing.

Jazzed up as this version of 'Volare' was, it was definitely danceable. Tony had never learned ballroom dancing, and as far as he knew, Maya had never learned to dance at all, but he still thought it would be a very good idea to have a twirl on the dance floor. By way of encouragement, the programme had arranged a few holographic dancers on the floor.

There was the possibility that Maya would refuse, of course. But even if she didn't love him, she would surely have the sense not to make her rejection of him public -- it would put both of them in a very bad light. Tony took a deep breath and approached Maya's table.

//Volare, oh, oh!
 Cantare, oh, oh, oh, oh!
 Nel blu dipinto di blu
 Felice di stare lassù// (6)

"Would you care for a dance, Signorina?" he asked, making the offer with just enough of his usual humour to possibly save face if she refused.

Maya stared at him in surprise, evidently unsure what to say. The puzzled expression on her face was a throwback to the days of her first arrival on Alpha, when just about everything Tony said or did seemed to confuse her. Within the few seconds before she spoke, Tony had time to guess that the expression was not a good sign.

"No, I really don't think that's a good idea," she said loudly, shaking her head.

So much for taking advice from holograms. Under other circumstances, back in the days when he was into asking girls to dance, Tony would have either insisted or made some joke, but right now, he felt like doing neither. His friends, his work colleagues and his Deep Space Nine acquaintances -- not to mention the hologram on the stage -- were watching him, and all he could do was look at Maya's downcast eyes.

"I will dance with you, Tony!" Sandra's cheerful voice echoed emptily in his petrified mind and he felt her hands on his arm. Shaking himself out of his shock, Tony smiled and shrugged his shoulders, as if Maya's refusal didn't really matter. He allowed Sandra to drag him onto the dance floor.

"You looked as though you needed saving," said Sandra once they were out of earshot of the others. "You should have seen the expression on your face. Poor Tony; you went all red."

"I think I nearly went into cataleptic shock," he said jokingly, although he wasn't far from the truth. As he matched his steps to Sandra's -- she was someone who obviously did know ballroom dancing -- Tony realised he was trembling. "O dio, why do I do this to myself?"

"Because you are in love with her?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot," he answered bitterly. "As if the whole station didn't know that by now. Even that holographic crooner over there is an expert on my love life. Well, I can tell you one thing, Sahn: I've been around a bit. I've been embarrassed and I've been insulted. But rarely to that extent."

"I think you are making too much of it," said Sandra reasonably. "Maya does not know ballroom dancing. She probably did not want to embarrass herself by trying."

"Right, so she decided to embarrass me, instead," muttered Tony through clenched teeth.

"What happened between you two, anyway?" asked Sandra. "You said last night that she did not love you. How do you know?"

"Because I asked her," he said shortly, careful not to tread on her feet as they danced.

"Oh, so maybe you just frightened her away by asking if she loved you! She probably needs more time to think things over."

"I didn't think it was an unreasonable question considering --" he suddenly remembered that Sandra probably didn't know about Maya's plan to stay on DS9 and changed what he was about to say. "-- Considering she and I have been... considering we've known each other for four years. I thought it was time we knew where we both stood."

"Did you ask her to marry you?"

"What?"

Sandra evidently realised she was on the wrong track and laughed. "It just occurred to me that would be the sort of situation where you would need to know. Oh, do not worry Tony. Maybe Maya is worrying too much: she might see things differently once she has relaxed, perhaps with a few drinks."

"You have the most terrible ideas," declared Tony. "First you want me to have it off with another woman to make her jealous and now you want me to make her drunk!" He stopped dancing. "Oh, I'll sort something out. Maybe you're right: maybe we both need time to think things over." He turned to look at Maya; she had her back to him again.

"What are you going to do?" asked Sandra, looking up at him in puzzlement.

"Go and get some food, I think," he declared. He didn't enjoy this kind of dancing and it was out of the question for him to go back and talk to Maya again. "I'm getting quite hungry. You coming?" Tony thought it would be safer to go back to Quark's with Sandra rather than alone. She would be a handy excuse not to talk to Nerys if they came across the Bajoran.

Sandra looked at Julian, still sitting at his table, and shook her head. "I might join you later. I have already eaten anyway."

Tony nodded and then hugged her. "Thanks for trying to help, Sahn. You're the best ex-girlfriend I've ever had."

"If the competition is girls like Alibe, then that is not difficult," she said with a grin.

They walked back to the tables occupied by the Starfleet and Alphan officers. Sandra sat down with Julian, and Tony politely took his leave from everyone, careful to even include Maya, as if nothing had happened. The Koenigs had arrived while he was dancing, as well as Dax, Worf, Odo and O'Brien. Tony doubted his presence would be missed considering the number of people now clustered at the tables in the front row of Vic's.

Stepping out of the holosuite, Tony was disturbed to find that the very first person he noticed, standing on the lower level of Quark's, was Nerys. She was in the midst of a conversation with some of his Alphan colleagues, including Ben, Alan and the Frasers. They evidently had some alternate plans for the evening; in fact, judging by the clothes they were wearing, Tony suspected they were going to recreate a disco in Holosuite Two.

As Tony leaned on the upstairs banister, Nerys looked up and saw him. She gave him a smile.