By: Carolann C. Potee

        He hated formal parties.
        Especially this one.
        Three seemed to be absolutely nothing to do except sit, eat, or talk, so he just sat back in his fold-up chair that he had found leaning against the wall. The collar of his tuxedo was too tight around his neck, rubbing it raw in certain places, and he ended up untying his bow-tie and pulling at his collar every 30 seconds, making people who happened to glance his way think that he was either hot or nervous. He looked over at Nana, who was having the time of her life talking off the ear of a producer of TNG, holding a barely touched glass of champagne. This party was supposed to be a remembrance birthday bash for Gene Rodenberry, highly sponsored so it had to be formal. He looked down at his own half-empty glass, his fourth, and thought that maybe if he could manage to get himself drunk, it might not be so bad. Then he'd get Nana to drive them home. It didn't look like she would be finished half of it before the party would be over.
        He leaned his head back over the backrest of the chair, sighing in utter boredom, and closed his eyes. He suddenly felt the tickle of fingers playing with one of the light curls on his forehead, then opened his eyes to find the upside-down image of Terry Farrel's beautiful smile.
        "Hi," she said. "You look like you're having fun."
        "Oh, yes, a it's a blast," he responded, yawning.
        She smiled again and said, "I thought this party might get boring after a while, so I took the liberty of bringing something to pass the time."
        She pulled out a walkman from her purse, one that had two earphone jacks, and then two pairs of earphones. She offered him one of them as she put hers on.
        "Care to dance?" he asked her playfully.
        She set the station to her favorite, a station that played mostly soft relaxing music.
        "You're no trying to make Nana jealous, are you?" she asked.
        "Me?" he said innocently. "Nah..."
        She giggled and they danced the next four songs together consecutively, oblivious of the stares they were getting. Nana kept glancing away from her conversations in their direction suspiciously, but just smiled at them. She knew what he was doing, and it was on purpose, too. She couldn't blame him for being so bored; not everyone has something to talk or babble about all the time, especially men like him.
        The `couple' eventually sat down to have another drink or two, making Sid feel a little tipsy after a while. He rested his chin on his hands, now feeling tired as well as bored. Terry sat next to him for a while, but dragged herself out of his contagious misery when the spied the chocolate-covered strawberries on the desert bar.
        Sid sighed, feeling almost abandoned by his friend as he watched her cross the room to the desert bar. He looked back over to his (if he was lucky) soon to be wife, Nana. She was still babbling away, now to Rick Berman. There has to be something better to do than just sit around and wait for this party to come to an abrupt end, he thought as a frown crossed his face. He was becoming even more restless by the minute, so he decided to get up and walk around. He explored every corner of the of the modified set the party was being held on, and couldn't remember if this was the same set they had used for filming on their last episode. Nana had always told him he had a lousy memory. He rubbed his slightly stubbly chin and decided to test his theory. Looking at last weeks clipboard for the list of sets used gave him something to concentrate on, as trivial as it was. He left set twenty-one, which was where the party was, and went crossed the nearby empty sets to the ones that were the sets mainly used on DS9. He found it sitting on a fold up chair near a camera, probably where Rene sat. He had directed the last episode, and did a pretty good job of it, too. He picked up the clipboard and started flipping through the pages to look for the list of sets used and their instructions on construction. He was so absorbed in his newfound reading, that he didn't see the large cable that ran across the set to some heavy equipment to be used in the next episode to be filmed, and his toe caught on it. He fell heavily against a portable table used for refreshments and his head slammed into the floor as a splinter of wood impaled his right arm. His eyes were clenched shut from the pain as darkness came closer and closer to engulfing him...

        His vision was beginning to clear as he struggled to sit up against the wall. The effort made his arm hurt even more as it bled copiously all over his tuxedo. This stain is going to be really hard to get out, he thought to himself in a hopeless effort to distract himself from the pain. He consciously made himself use his left arm to push himself up to a standing position when he noticed he wasn't on the same set anymore. Somehow, he found himself on set six when he was sure that the table he had fallen over had been on stage nine. He looked around at his new settings, and found that the door that led onto set five was stuck and he couldn't grab the latch well enough with his left arm to be able to give it that much of yank. He sighed again, the headache turning into a slightly lesser dull throb, and followed the corridor down to where it adjoined set three, or at least where it should have. All he found were more corridors, making him think he had gotten lost at first, but then remembered that there were no sets that looked identical to each other. Paramount has to economize somehow. He just didn't get it. When did they put an extension onto set six? What could they possibly use it for? He was so confused, thinking about it just made his headache worse. Sid wandered blindly through corridor after corridor until he came to an airlock. How to get it open puzzled him for a moment. He didn't even know where it led to. Then, a thought struck him. Why not try the button on the control panel next to the door? he thought as an asinine smile found its way to his face. He pressed the button on the control panel and gaped as the airlock door rolled open with a somewhat mechanical ring to it, one that he wasn't used to. He recognized it as being the sound it was supposed to make on the show. He stared at the airlock door in utter mystification as he stepped through and then as it closed behind him, then almost fell backward against it when he looked around him. He was standing in the middle of a busy promenade; Humans, Bajorans, and other aliens alike were walking past him, ignoring his stare. Sid turned around to get the whole picture of the promenade. It seemed to be a bit bigger than stage two, but this scene was whole. There were no gaps in the walls for cameras, ceilings instead of lights, and there were smells all around him that he hadn't the faintest idea where they came from. Something suddenly bumped into him from behind and he spun around, clutching his bleeding arm, and breathing heavily in fright. In front of him stood Colm Meaney, or what looked like Colm. This man wasn't wearing a tux like he had been when Sid had last seen him. He looked like.. Chief O'Brien.
        "Are you all right, Julian?" he asked, completely taken aback by Sid's reaction to him. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
        Sid just looked at him, completely stupefied.
        "Doctor, are you all right?" asked Rosalind Chao, or maybe, Keiko O'Brien?
        Again, Sid just stared at them.
        "Miles," Rosalind said, "maybe we should help Julian back to his quarters."
        "I think you're right," Colm said, and took Sid's arm to lead him. Sid flinched when he turned him around and had taken his right arm; Colm had gotten close to his wound. Colm looked at it and frowned. "Maybe we should just take you to the infirmary."
        Sid let the two of them lead him across the promenade and down an adjoining corridor, towards the infirmary. The door slid open for them after Colm pushed the button next to the door, making that strange sound again, and Sid saw a man leaning over a computer terminal who unnervingly reminded him of himself. Then, he realized who it most likely was, in this crazy place. If the people next to him were Chief O'Brien and his wife Keiko, then that man could only be...
        Sid screamed in fright, not wanting to see the face of that man. He shook off O'Brien's grasp on his arm and bolted for the door. He couldn't push it open. In his fright, he completely forgot that he had to push that little button to get the door to open. He clawed at it desperately, then started to bang on it furiously. A few moments later, all his energy was spent and he fell against the door, exhausted. Breathing heavily, he clenched his eyes shut. He didn't want to see that face, because he knew it was probably going to be his own. He pulled his knees up to his chest and huddled himself into a ball, trying to make himself as small as possible. Maybe it's just a dream, he thought. Maybe I'll wake up in my own bed, with Nana next to me, and this will all have been a nightmare. Those were his last thoughts as a familiar hand rested on his shoulder, then there was a small hiss next to his ear as he felt a slight pressure against his neck. Then, blackness...

        Sid awoke with a start to find a soothing hand on his shoulder, and immediately he relaxed. His eyes were still fuzzy, probably because of all the champagne he drank the night before. He sighed heavily and let his head fall back onto the pillow.
        "I just had the worst nightmare," he told her, not realizing that the woman he spoke to was not Nana Visitor.
        "I can imagine," she said. Sid knew then that this was not Nana, and recognized the voice as belonging to Terry Farrel. He squinted and blinked until his eyes cleared enough for him to look at her. She was wearing a Starfleet uniform, holding a medical tricorder, and there were spots on her face and shoulders, like on the television. He remembered his so called `nightmare' and realized that it hadn't been. His eyes grew wide in disbelief and his hands started to shake as he unconsciously shrunk away from her.
        "Relax," she said as her hand returned comfortingly to his shoulder. "No one is going to hurt you. We just want to know who you are and where you came from."
        "I... I..," he stuttered. "I have to get out of here."
        Sid jumped off of the bed and ran to the door once again. He was about to try pushing it again when he remembered the button, and pushed it. He was about to sprint out of the infirmary at warp ten when he realized that Constable Odo and two of his security guards were blocking him. He backed up and let the door close in front of him. His breathing increased in intensity again as he knew he would have to face them. Sid turned around slowly and quietly said, "What do you want from me?"
        "First," said Bashir, stepping forward slightly, "why don't I start by introducing myself. My name is Dr. Julian Bashir. Might I ask your name?"
        All he could do was stare at him, then, after what seemed to be an impossibly long time, he managed to get his lips to move and found his voice.
        "My... my name is Siddig..." he stuttered. "Alexander Siddig."
        "Alexander Siddig," Bashir repeated. Then slowly he asked, "How did you get here?"
        "I.. I don't know..." He sank back onto the bed and rubbed his face in his palms, as if he could get himself to wake up from a nightmare by doing so.
        "Sisko to Bashir," said a voice over what must have been the station's communications system. "What the hell is going on down there?"
        "Well, Captain," he began, "we seem to have a visitor who has a face remarkably similar to my own..."
        Sid wasn't listening to their conversation. Instead, for some reason, he recalled what had happened earlier that day, just before they called it quits to get ready for the party. They had been filming and he just couldn't seem to get that one particular piece of dialogue down. He was supposed to say it after `Sisko's' cue, `What the hell is going on down there?.' He supposed that was why he suddenly thought about it and began to review his lines in his head: `I have two patients, one with a ruptured spleen, and the other suffering from severe internal hemorrhaging. I am treating them as best I can, but without main power, I can't do much. Captain, you've got to get someone down here to fix the fix the main power conduits because if you don't, these people may die and there won't be anything I can do to save them. They need surgery and I need power to do it. At least get me a portable generator, or something!'
        He was so lost in thought, he didn't even realize that he was actually speaking out loud, drawing a stare from Dr. Bashir and Commander Dax. He was pretty sure he remembered it right, Nana had helped him practice it the night before, but it still wanted to just slip off his tongue in different syllables and sounds, almost making it sound like gibberish. He had an annoying habit of doing that once in a while.
        "My god," came a voice from behind him, "you got it right."
        His head snapped up. He knew that voice. It couldn't be... Nana? If it was her, how did she get here? And where was everyone else? He turned quickly to face her, and a big toothy grin covered his face as he took her hands in his and kissed her deeply.
        "All thanks to you," he replied. He looked into her eyes, and saw she was a little flushed from his kiss, but was smiling radiantly at him. Then, her eyes focused on something behind him, or rather, a couple of someones. He turned back to see what she was looking at, and saw Dax with her eyes wide in astonishment, and Bashir with his mouth hanging open with awe, and both wearing a rather pale color on their faces.
        "What's going on?" she asked in confusion.
        "I don't really know," he replied, "but I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."
        "Really," Nana said mockingly. "I don't think we're even on a planet, much less Earth."
        "Yes, we do appear to be on Deep Space Nine, but that doesn't mean any of this is real. We could be... dreaming?"
        She pinched him hard on his healed fore-arm and he responded with a surprised yelp.
        "Ow," he complained. "What'd you do that for?"
        "Still think we're dreaming?" she asked, surprised that he didn't seem to know what she was talking about. "Look around you! Does this look like any set Paramount would give anyone the budget to build?"
        She was baiting him for an argument, one he had no intention of losing, again. She flirted with him like this all the time, and each time she would end up smacking his shoulder, and he would then scoop her up in his arms and kiss her. They hadn't done it lately; they had been too busy to be flirting with each other in other ways. She had already pinched him, so he decided to give her a bear hug and lifted her off the deck, then kissed her again. She laughed, savoring the attention while she still could, and hugged him back, all while Dax and Bashir just stared at them in astonishment. Julian groaned when he saw someone come through the door, pretty much knowing who it would be. Captain Sisko had sent Major Kira down to `question' his patient. He knew she would not like what she saw.
        "What is the meaning of this?" Kira demanded, getting in Sid's face. "Who is this, Doctor?"
        He couldn't think of anything to say to her to satisfy her question. He just stared at her as Nana glowered back in annoyance. Julian then came up behind the Major he tapped her on the shoulder. She thought it was Dax, so she paid no attention to him until he grabbed her by the shoulders and swung her around. Major Kira's eyes went wide as they went from one identical image to the other, including her own standing behind her.
        "Wait a minute," Kira said, confused. "You're not Bajoran..."
        "Of course not," Nana replied. "I'm human and so is my soon-to-be husband here."
        Dr. Bashir's already pale face turned stark white and he fainted on the spot. Major Kira turned just in time to catch him, then realizing how similar her grasp on him was to Nana's on Sid, promptly dropped him to the floor with a thud. Dax came to his rescue though, and gave him a hypo that awakened him, but didn't save him from the embarrassment he was beginning to feel again.
        "Would someone please explain what's going on here?"

        Sisko sat in the chair at the head of the conference table and looked calm and complacent, much different than the other officers sitting around the table. O'Brien, Dr. Bashir, and Dax still stared in utter mystification at the two people sitting at either side of the Captain. Major Kira seemed totally uninterested in the whole affair, but everyone knew that she was fuming over what she had seen. Everyone had made it a point yesterday when they had come aboard to stay out of her way, especially Julian. Nana didn't think she had ever seen Sid's face get as beet red as Dr. Bashir's. The thought made her snicker, then giggle a bit. Then Sid started giggling, and then Commander Dax. She glanced at Dr. Bashir again and he looked like he wanted to bolt. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
        When the conference was over, and they had told everything they could about who they were and where they come from, Captain Sisko had an incredulous look on his face as if he didn't know whether to believe them or not. Could they blame him? They had to admit, if either of them had been in his shoes, they might be thinking the same thoughts. Odo had promised to be on the lookout for anyone else who might have been somehow transported there along with them. Dr. Bashir seemed to have managed to get ahold of himself, at least partially. He still looked like he wanted to bolt, though, and as soon as the captain dismissed them, he did.
        Captain Sisko waited for the rest of the senior staff to leave then said, "I'm sure you must be hungry after your `ordeal.' You can stop by the replimat in the promenade if you like on the way to your quarters. They're on level seven, section 5C in the habitat ring. If you need directions, just ask the computer."
        "Thank you Captain," Sid said. "I'm sure we'll find it."

        Sid and Nana ended up asking directions from the computer after all. It's one thing to be given stage directions, and another to figure them out for yourself. They decided to stop by the replimat as well, and saw Dr. Bashir sitting by himself at a table on the other side of the room.
        Nana obviously felt sorry for him and looked at Sid, who sighed and told her he was going to get them both something to eat. She walked over to him and sat down. It made her wish she could talk to one of the writers right now. Julian needed a girlfriend! As long as Sid wasn't enjoying himself with Julian's new girlfriend too much, she didn't care. The doctor deserved it. After being dumped by Leeta for Rom, he must've been depressed for a while. She had never really given that much thought about Sid's character, she'd been concentrating mostly on her own. Oh ,well, might as well say something to at least try to cheer him up.
        "Hi," was the only thing she could think of. He bolted upright in his seat, apparently startled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
        He relaxed a bit and said, "That's all right. I suppose I'm not used to so much attention."
        "Do you mind if we join you for lunch?" she asked, smiling.
        "Not at all," he replied just as Sid arrived at the table with their lunches. He tensed uncomfortably at Sid's presence, then made himself relax again. The three ate in silence for the next few minutes until Sid spoke up.
        "So, what are your parents like, Julian?" he said, simple chit-chat.
        "Wouldn't they be the same as yours?" Julian asked.
        "No," Sid replied, "they're not."
        "They, uh..." Julian trailed off.
        "Sid, you of all people should know that's somewhat of an uncomfortable subject for him," Nana said.
        "Well, didn't his father just save his career and patch everything up?" Sid said.
        "So, you know about my family?" Julian said, more a statement than a question.
        "Well..."
        "Why did you ask if you already knew?" asked Julian.
        "I was just trying to strike up a conversation," Sid explained.
        "Oh," Julian said, then paused. "What were you doing before you came here? Just out of curiosity."
        "We were attending a formal `party' in honor of Gene Rodenberry, the creator of this whole universe," Nana said.
        "Just so you know, it was boring as hell," Sid complained to Julian.
        "I was enjoying myself, why can't you be a little more social?"
        "I guess I'm just not so much of a `social' person," Sid said. "At least the champagne was good, and I have the lingering hangover to prove it."
        Julian smiled at Nana's scowl. Love patter could be so amusing sometimes. It's too bad I never get to enjoy it, he thought to himself. Nana seemed to notice he was wallowing in his own misery again, and so, feeling sorry for him, kissed him full on the lips. He shrank back in shock as far as he could. Sid watched, his mouth paused it's chewing, and stared.
        When she let him go, he said, "What was that for?"
        "You looked like you could use it," she said.
        Julian blushed profusely, and both Sid and Nana burst out laughing.
        "Are you trying to make me jealous again?" Sid teased.
        "As I recall," Nana pointed out, "you were the one who tried to make me jealous by dancing half drunk with Terry in the middle of a room full of staring people, and there wasn't even any music!"
        "We were wearing headphones."
        "You were trying to make me jealous."
        "Why would I do that?" Sid said, smiling.
        "Just don't do it again," she retorted, then smacked his arm as a warning.
        Sid's smile turned into a toothy grin and he kissed her. "You know why I do it, don't you?"
        "No," Nana lied. "Why?"
        "Because I love you," and with that he kissed her again. Julian gaped, wishing he could ever find a woman that could ever love him the way she loved him and he loved her.