Benjamin Sisko had had a seriously crappy day. The Starfleet captain was simply fed up. He hated Weyoun, he was seriously annoyed with the Founders, he hated Weyoun, he was annoyed with the random aliens making trouble on his ship, and had he mentioned that he hated Weyoun?
Sisko sighed and sat down in his quarters. Sure, he had managed to tie up some commonplace matters today, but he was still involved in one of the most ridiculous conflicts the Federation had ever been a part of. He just needed some time to chill out.
"Dad!"
Sisko stood up and forced a smile for his son, Jake Sisko. "Jake," He greeted the teenage boy, a little wearily.
"Dad, I got you something for your birthday." The smiling black teenager said. Now that Sisko was paying attention, he noticed that Jake was, indeed, holding something behind his back.
"Aw, Jake," Sisko said. "You didn't have to."
Jake smiled and slowly pulled the mysterious item from behind his back. Before the suspense became agonizing, Sisko saw what it was. It was a baseball card.
At that moment, all of the stress and crappiness of the day seemed to fade from Sisko's view. The commanding Starfleet officer of Deep Space Nine could literally hear angels singing in the background. If he squinted, he could see a bright light emanating from the baseball card.
"Oh, Jake..." A tear trailed down Sisko's face, and he held his son in a warm embrace. At that moment, there was only one word that both father and son said at the same time; a word that held so much hope and joy, love and peace, beauty and awesomeness.
"Baseball,"