Nerys opened her eyes and stared blearily at Tony's back. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. She watched the light from the headboard console play on his pale skin as he rubbed the back of his neck. His dark hair was disarrayed, his posture tired and listless.

Sleepy, Nerys closed her eyes again and tried not to think of the mess she had put herself in. She couldn't think of anything to say to Tony. He had suddenly become irrelevant -- all that mattered now was for her to battle her guilty conscience. And think about what she had done to Odo.

Nerys felt her heart sink as she thought of Odo. Now that the effects of Tony's beer were wearing off, she was beginning to feel the full force of the mistake she had made. Maybe I'm just like my mother after all, she thought, cruel to herself and to the unfortunate woman who had borne her. She silently ran her hand through her hair and rubbed her eyes. When she reopened them, she found Tony was looking at her.

"Hi, I'm Tony. Remember me?"

Tony sounded cheerful, but he didn't look it. Nerys reflected that it had been a very long day for him and it was beginning to show. The bags under his eyes were darkened and more pronounced, his sharp nose pinched, his skin an unhealthy pale grey even in the multicoloured glow from the headboard.

Nerys smiled wanly, pleased to see the man display some modicum of civility under the circumstances. "What time is it?"

"Four a.m.," he said shortly. He was probably as embarrassed as she was.

"You going?" she managed to say.

"I guess I might as well. I'm damned if I can see how two people can sleep together on these beds. Especially with those bloody lights on."

"Oh you get used to it." Nerys had always liked the beds on Deep Space Nine; they were better than anything she'd slept on during the Occupation.

"Well, I can tell you the beds on Alpha were a lot better than this. A very strange shape, but more ergonomic, that's for sure." There was a long pause, and then he scratched his shoulder. "Ah well. I'd better be going. I have some sleeping off to do, and I just know what a happy bunny I'm going to be in the morning."

Nerys felt the bed move as Tony stood up. She closed her eyes again and listened to the human rooting around the room, no doubt assembling his clothes. Her tired mind drifted, bringing up a confused jumble of images from the last twenty-six hours -- the disco, Tony in a tuxedo, a flashback to Odo wearing a similar costume a couple of months ago...

Her mind returned to the present when she heard Tony's voice again. "Nerys." She opened her eyes and he continued. "I suspect we'll spend the next two days avoiding each other, but while we're still on speaking terms, I just wanted to thank you for everything. The dancing, the company... the raktajino."

Nerys smiled. "I guess we'll both have some explaining to do," she said, half aware that her mind wasn't as focused on this conversation as it should be.

"We'll just have to blame it on the boogie," said Tony with a wan smile.

Nerys didn't even attempt to understand what he was talking about. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

Tony winced uncertainly, before finally saying, "I wonder if they still have the Foreign Legion in the 24th century..." That seemed to cheer him up. "That was where--"

Nerys just shook her head; she was no longer in the mood for Tony's witticisms. They had been enjoyable when she was having fun the previous evening, and even when they were working together all week. But now that guilt was slowly beginning to invade her thoughts, Tony's jokes were tasteless and out of place. And he was right, she realised: they probably would spend the next two days avoiding each other.

Perhaps realising that their conversation was at an end, Tony mumbled a goodnight and Nerys closed her eyes again. She heard the door to her bedroom swish open and then shut, followed by nothing but the quiet humming of the life-support system.

"Time to wake up, Mister Carter," said Odo, observing the Alphan's slumbering form with relish. "You have a visitor."

Carter finally reacted, pulling himself groggily into a seating position, bleary-eyed and yawning. His other colleagues roused themselves with similar difficulty. Carter looked around the holding cell with surprise, evidently disoriented for a moment; then he scratched his chin and grinned sheepishly as he saw who was standing on the other side of the forcefield.

"Oh... g'day, Commander."

Koenig didn't say anything; the look on his face was no doubt enough to strike fear in the heart of any of his subordinates. From what Odo knew of the man, Koenig had a fine temper, and waking up to the news that several of his senior officers had been arrested for causing a brawl at Quark's had probably done nothing to improve his mood.

Odo deactivated the forcefield. "They're all yours, Commander. Try to keep them out of trouble."

The constable watched as Koenig escorted his officers out of the brig. In a perverse way, Odo was pleased to see his low opinion of the Alphans confirmed. He would have preferred an opportunity to throw Verdeschi himself into a holding cell, but as it was, he had to make do with the Alphan's crony Carter. It was still satisfying to know that 20th century humans were indeed as inferior as the constable had hoped.

Dismissing these ugly thoughts, Odo gave the rowdy Klingons in one of the other holding cells his assurance that General Martok would be along shortly. Satisfied with the morning's work so far, the constable returned to his office.

He had half expected to find Nerys there, come to apologise or break off their relationship or beg for forgiveness, whatever humanoids did under these circumstances. But his office was disconcertingly empty. All he found when he activated his terminal was a message informing him that Nerys had called in sick.

Defeated, Odo set his humanoid form down onto his chair, even though the gesture brought his solidified body no comfort. Nerys wouldn't apologise, or beg, or even break things off, because Nerys didn't even care enough to talk to him.

What had happened -- no one had dared mention the previous night to Odo. Floating in his bucket overnight, the Changeling had hoped against hope that Nerys might have come to her senses, or at the very least that Maya's synthehol-induced outbursts would have drawn Verdeschi away from the major. But as soon as Odo had set foot outside his quarters that morning, the sympathetic or amused gazes that had followed him to his office made it clear that Nerys' expected romance with Verdeschi had finally come to fruition. And everyone knew about it.

Odo had overheard the conversations on the Promenade. Driven by a morbid fascination with Nerys' infidelity, he had disguised himself as wall panels and furniture to eavesdrop on the station's population.

Odo had listened to Nog and Yasko at the Replimat. The Alphan girl wondered out loud if Nerys and Verdeschi had enjoyed themselves the previous night. Nog, who wasn't eating anything, moaned and said they couldn't have because Verdeschi's beer was poison and it probably made them as sick as it did him.

Odo had followed Alibe Kurand and Ben Vincent down the Promenade. The two Alphans were laughing at Maya, saying that she should have seized her chance for "Italian lovin'" while she still had it. They laughed at Verdeschi, too, and declared that he probably wasn't used to being undressed in public.

Shivering with disgust, Odo had returned to the Replimat. There he encountered the only couple who did not seem interested in gossiping about Verdeschi and Nerys. Jake and Shermeen were too busy lamenting their imminent separation, gazing into each other's eyes with all the passion of humanoid infatuation.

Odo had felt like revealing himself and berating them both for being such fools. Love was a poison more potent than Verdeschi's brew. Had he not loved Nerys, Odo would have been a happy creature.

But there was little he could do about his feelings, he realised as he leaned back in his chair. He knew that if Nerys walked in right now to beg him for forgiveness, he would probably give it before she even opened her mouth. And then they would continue this insecure relationship they were building. And things might be all right for a while, until the next young man walked into Nerys' life...

Maybe this was the best time to break the cycle before it began. Assuming that Nerys did want to resume their relationship, it would be up to Odo to work up enough resolve to break up with her now. Then he wouldn't have to worry about this happening again in the future. All he needed now was the resolve.

"No ship?" repeated John through clenched teeth.

He had a good mind to hit the Ferengi, though he realised that would hardly be wise under the circumstances. As it was, John was in the unenviable position of having to pay the bartender for the damage Alan and his friends had caused the previous night. Fifty milligrams of the Alphans' tiranium and Quark promised not to press charges. To some extent, it was no surprise that Quark's promised ship had developed a 'problem' overnight.

"I'm sorry, Commander," said Quark with an egregious smile, though he did take a step back when he saw the expression on John's face. "I got a communication from my contact this morning. It seems that the ship he was going to sell you sort of... exploded last night. Still, you wouldn't have wanted it anyway if its warp core was that unstable."

"Why do I get the impression this isn't a coincidence?" growled John.

"I assure you, Commander, this has absolutely nothing to do with the damage your people did." Quark waved his hand at the mess of broken furniture around them in the bar. "It was an unfortunate accident; I'll make sure never to trade with that Xepolite crook ever again. To think he was planning to sell you defective merchandise, using me as the middleman!"

John wasn't interested in the Ferengi's explanations. The anger he had felt at Quark's announcement had waned, and he was left with nothing but disappointment at finding that luck was against the Alphans once more. They would have to leave with the Addis-Ababa after all. It would be less than 11 hours before the ship arrived; there was no time left to find another solution. He turned on his heels and left the bar.

"Anyway," Quark called after him. "What makes you think I'd do anything to delay your departure? I'm looking forward too much to having you people off this station!"

Ignoring him, John made his way back to the quarters he shared with Helena. His wife was already carefully putting away anything they had replicated or unpacked since they arrived, even though they wouldn't be leaving the station until the next day.

"How did things go with Quark?" she asked, looking up as he entered.

John sighed and sat down on the sofa. "Not well," he said shortly. "We can't have a ship -- especially not after what happened last night."

"Oh John." Helena sat down beside him. "I'm sorry."

"We'll have to leave with the Addis-Ababa after all. Well, I guess it doesn't matter how we leave. I think we've outstayed our welcome here." John was about to repeat 'especially after last night', but decided that went without saying. "I should think Starfleet will be glad to see the back of us. They can't have a very high opinion of the Alphans right now."

"John. You can't blame the Alphans for behaving the way they did," said Helena softly. "And I don't think the Starfleets will either. The Alphans are young. For the first time in six years, they have no duties to perform, no immediate survival to worry about. They just needed to... let their hair down, if you like. Things got a little out of hand, but I don't think you should blame them."

"Blame them? Of course I blame them. We're not talking about just any Alphans here. They're supposed to be my senior officers." John spat out the word with vehemence. "How can I look Sisko in the eyes knowing how my staff have behaved? A first officer who can't keep his hands to himself, a science officer who drowns her sorrows in alcohol and then tells the whole of Quark's her plans to collude with the enemy, a chief Eagle pilot who brawls with Klingons, and meanwhile half the Alphans..." He didn't want to describe what he had been told.

"But what can we do, John? They're not children..."

"Oh so first, they're young, and now they're not children, and those are excuses?" John saw Helena's closed expression and realised he was being unfair, taking out his anger on her. "I'm sorry, Helena. I just never imagined that the day would come when I would be ashamed of the Alphans."

She smiled and placed her hands on his. "I still think you're being too harsh, John. In the first place, all you've heard are rumours. You already heard Alan and Bill's version of the brawl and you know the Klingons were as much to blame as they were. Why don't you wait to hear Maya and Tony's version of things before condemning them?"

"I'm not sure I want to hear Tony's version of anything." John preferred not to think about his first officer's reportedly lewd conduct.

Helena lowered her eyes and nodded. "In any case, the moral behaviour of our colleagues is not your responsibility. Least of all now, when we're not on Alpha."

This remark struck a sensitive chord, fuelling the misgivings that had lurked in John's mind ever since his argument with Maya in the Infirmary two days earlier. He withdrew his hands from his wife's and stood up, instinctively using the physical movement to distance himself from her words.

"That's what worries me," he admitted, pacing towards the dining table and then turning to look at Helena again. "While we were on Alpha, I was respected as the last LSRO-designated commander of the base. But now that the Moonbase is gone, I may have to fight to keep my authority. You're right; I have no jurisdiction over the moral behaviour of the Alphans. However, as long as I'm their commander, I am responsible if they display the sort of unruly behaviour which got Bill and Alan arrested last night. But that only works if they recognise my authority."

Helena shook her head. "Who would question it?"

"They might not question it now, but what will happen when we're on Starbase 571? We'll be under the jurisdiction of Starfleet there, and I'm not sure I can command under those circumstances. We've seen how often Starfleet Command have interfered with Sisko's plans. You know I never did like having someone looking over my shoulder all the time."

"I see," said Helena, lifting one eyebrow knowledgeably. "So you're worried our move to Starbase 571 will undermine your authority. Once upon a time, you were our leader, bringing us to our home in the Promised Land. And now that's over, you think you won't have anything to do."

John smiled wryly and shook his head. "Maybe. But this isn't the Promised Land. And all this isn't just about me."

He walked over to look out the window, stalling while he mentally formulated his next sentence. "I suppose I got this idea we... that Alpha was the hope of the human race. That it was our mission to find a new home and rebuild Earth's culture... in our universe, where humanity is close to extinction. But we're not needed here. The human race has colonised half the galaxy in this universe."

"So we can have a colony too. The fact that humans have expanded so far is an added chance for us." Helena came to join him at the window, placing a conciliatory hand on his shoulder. "John, I understand what you're saying about our mission. I know what Arra and the voice in the Black Sun told you about the Alphans' destiny. But it's a lot to ask our people to keep drifting through space until we find some new Eden. Starfleet is offering us a home right here, right now."

John nodded silently as Helena continued, breathing his name in that unique way that still made his heart miss a beat. "John, we don't even have to stay here forever. We can move to Starbase 571 and then go back to our universe when Starfleet is ready to send us back. We will have acquired some 24th century technology by then, perhaps even some devices which will make colonisation easier in our universe. And if we decide to stay in this reality, we wouldn't necessarily have to live under Starfleet's orders. The Federation has any number of planets which we could colonise without interference... We could have a home, John," she added, her tone almost a plea.

John shook his head and turned to lean his back against the window. "I know. But the more I think about it, the more I believe going to Starbase 571 is a mistake. I -- I can't explain it, but it's a feeling I've got."

"Maybe the Prophets are speaking to you again," suggested Helena seriously.

"Maybe." John sighed. "In any case, you're right. We should be looking at the advantages of our present situation. Whatever feelings I might have on the subject, we have no choice but to go to Starbase 571. We'll have three weeks to decide what to do before we get there. I spoke to Dax this morning; she said the Addis-Ababa will be arriving at 1800 and there will be a reception this evening to get to know the ship's senior staff. In the meantime, I need to keep my command staff in shape and give them a few heartfelt words about last night. I'll convene a meeting for noon; that should give everyone time to get over their hangovers..."

Even with dark glasses, the lights on the Promenade were too bright, and Tony was acutely aware of how conspicuous he was. It seemed as though every single person who passed was staring at him. Somewhere in the dark recesses of the cotton wool that had replaced his brains, Tony could think of at least three good reasons for their interest. He was wearing sunglasses, he was leaning unsteadily against the wall beside the Turbolift, and he was the guy who had slept with Kira the previous night.

With seemingly superhuman determination, Tony managed to tear himself away from his support and head with relative dignity toward the Infirmary. He had hesitated and procrastinated all morning, or at least since he had woken up, but finally the drums pounding in his head had proved too painful to bear. Besides, he had to go and face the outside world some time, and now was as good a time as any.

Tony was walking with his eyes firmly on the ground when he became aware of a pair of green bell-bottoms walking alongside him. They had no sooner appeared than their owner identified herself.

"Tony," said Sandra. "You look terrible."

Tony was about to retort that he felt terrible, too, but that was too obvious. Besides, he wasn't sure he was ready for coherent speech yet. So he said nothing.

He cast a glance at Sandra. Like him, she was in civilian clothes; a cream-coloured blouse and dark green trousers with a matching scarf in her short hair. After six years of living in their various Alphan uniforms, Tony wasn't surprised to find that his colleagues were seized with a desire to wear some more colourful garments. He had opted for jeans and a polo neck jumper himself.

"I have good news for you," continued Sandra cheerfully. "Maya loves you!"

"Yeah, and I daresay Jesus loves me, too. But can either of them cure my hangover?"

"It is not funny, Tony. I am serious; you have to give Maya another chance."

"Why?" he exclaimed, a lot louder than he had intended to. Putting his hand to his throbbing head, Tony continued more quietly. "After all these years, I've run out of other chances to give her. Look, I'm sorry, but I have a hangover the size of a nebula, Sahn. I just can't wrap my mind around concepts like 'Maya', 'love' and 'me' right now."

"You had a good night, then," said Sandra gently. She looked disappointed and Tony couldn't blame her; he was rather disappointed himself.

"Not really," he admitted. "Seen from this morning, it was bloody awful, though I think I was having a good time at some point... I suppose everyone knows about me fraternising with the natives?"

Sandra nodded. "It was the first topic of conversation of every person I have met. A lot of people saw you leave Quark's with Major Kira; they are naturally imagining the worst. Do you... are you involved with Kira?"

Tony looked around to check that no one was eavesdropping on their conversation and then sighed. "Um, no, not exactly... it's not the sort of thing that's going to turn into a relationship as such. Look, sweetheart, much as I'd love to give you a blow by blow account of my night, I really need to do something about this headache."

Sandra smiled indulgently. "I am sure Julian has a magic wand for hangovers."

Julian, it seemed, was not particularly overworked at that precise moment. He was leaning against his desk, arms crossed, and was evidently in mid-pontification, all for the benefit of Kate, who was sitting in the doctor's swivel chair.

"Now there's someone who has definitely been drinking too much of his own beer," said the English girl when she noticed her two colleagues coming in. Tony wondered why everyone was so damn cheerful this morning.

Julian headed for his medicine cabinet. "Oh, I know what you need, Tony. I think you know what to do with this," he added, coming back to hand Tony a hypospray.

Tony decided not to voice any of the rude suggestions that came to mind, every one of which were no doubt satisfyingly guaranteed to wipe that inane smile off Julian's genetically engineered face. The Italian realised he should avoid any kind of speech until he was rid of his headache and at peace with the universe once more. This was no time to be sharpening his wits on people who were trying to help him. He applied the hypospray to himself.

On Julian's instruction, Tony started counting to ten. This was just about as much thinking as his brain could handle at that moment. However, just as Julian promised, he found that his mind was clearing by the time he had reached otto.

"Oh wow!" exclaimed Tony as his vision returned to normal and the pounding in his head finally stopped. "I think I've just found the hypospray I want to settle down with!"

"At last an antidote to your beer, hey?" said Kate, twirling the chair and giving Julian a flirtatious smile even though she was talking to Tony. "The perfect follow-up to a party like last night's."

"Glad to know someone enjoyed it," said Tony sourly.

Kate and Julian exchanged a knowing glance, and an embarrassed silence fell heavily on the Infirmary. Even Sandra was looking down at the floor, unwilling to meet Tony's eye. This was no more than he had expected. Neither the Starfleets nor the Alphans were going to be particularly keen on him after his roll in the hay with the station's first officer. The Alphans would think he was a heel for cheating on Maya -- it wasn't exactly common knowledge that she'd told him to naff off, after all -- and the Starfleets, of course, would no doubt blame him for seducing their Bajoran major when she was already in a well-approved relationship with Odo.

After listening to the silence for a long moment, Tony pocketed the hypospray and smiled with well-practised nonchalance.

"Well, I guess I'll leave you all to... discuss last night," he declared. "And meanwhile, I'll go off and complete my entry form for this year's Darwin Awards."

That seemed to leave everyone completely baffled; even Tony's colleagues had evidently never heard of the posthumous awards given to people who died in the most stupid circumstances. Tony was pretty sure that someone on DS9 was bound to chuck him out of an airlock at some point that day. He certainly appeared to have developed an uncanny knack for making enemies. His only consolation was that his premature extinction at the hands of Odo, Maya, Kira, Worf, or whoever, would mean that his unique brand of stupidity would never get a chance to propagate to the rest of humanity.

That witty thought cheered Tony up immeasurably. He was making his way back to the Turbolift with a grin on his face when he realised Sandra had caught up with him again.

"Tony, where are you going?"

Tony got into the Turbolift. "I'm going back to my quarters to have some breakfast now that my stomach has recovered. You can come along with me and let me know all the latest gossip. Didn't Shermeen and Yasko get lucky last night, too?"

"Are you not going to see Maya?" asked Sandra, following him in.

"Of course not," he snapped, before continuing more calmly. "I hardly think that would be appropriate, given the circumstances. Besides, she couldn't even decide if she wanted me in the same universe, I doubt she'll... Oh, never mind..."

Sandra nodded wisely as the Turbolift whooshed down to the Habitat Ring. "Maya told me all about your conversation, and her plans to work for the Dominion..."

"Plans to work..? She didn't tell me that!"

"I do not think she wanted to tell me, either. But she was very drunk and very keen to explain how much she loved you."

The Turbolift stopped and they both got out.

"Soap Opera City all around, isn't it?" said Tony wryly. "Drunken confessions, ill-advised indiscretions, half-baked political intrigue. I'm beginning to think this place is a bad influence. Things were simpler on Alpha: all we had to worry about were the monsters and the occasional mutiny... and we had better music, too," he added with a grin.

"Really. Sometimes you behave like a teenager, Tony!" exclaimed Sandra. Surprised, Tony stopped to stare at her as she continued, "Love is not something to be ashamed of, or something you need to hide because it makes you look weak. It is not 'mushy' or 'syrupy' or 'garbage'. This is real life, not a soap opera: you cannot survive if you do not know how to love someone! You always try and pretend that you do not care --"