Tony was having a hard time juggling everything he had brought with him. He had two suitcases full of 'stuff' he had brought from his apartment as well as a large box with a fresh Angelo's pizza. It took him until late in the afternoon before he had made it back aboard the Warlord. He was amazed at how quickly and how thoroughly the ship had been repaired. Of course, as he walked past the crew stationed on Spacedock, he was faced with several versions of the 'So where's your pizza?' or 'I don't suppose I could borrow that box for a sec?' questions.

Being home had been great. He and his brother, Ricky, shared an apartment on the west side, not far from La Grange. It wasn't large, but it was enough, especially since Tony was hardly ever there. His oldest brother, Chris, lived in Omaha with his wife and three boys. No matter how busy the schedule, when mom says 'Everyone come over for dinner', you drop what you're doing and head over for dinner. She pulled that three times while he was on Earth. Not that he was complaining... she could cook up a storm to make the best food processors in Starfleet jealous. Add that to the fresh perch the Moreau brothers picked up on Navy Pier and Tony figured he gained at least ten pounds. Life was good.

Tony had visited all his favorite hangouts on the Loop, his favorite being McGilley's Bar just off Michigan Street. Although they only served synthoholic beverages, he didn't mind. Tony never could acquire a taste for the 'hard stuff'. His favorite aspect of the bar... well... second favorite aspect... was the back room. It was filled with old-style pool tables. Tony loved to play pool and had grown to be quite a player, though he never got into the 24th century counterpart, dahmjad.

His first favorite aspect of the bar had to be Mike McGilley, the current owner, and his old elementary school friend. Aside from reminiscing on old times, talking about current business, and comparing notes on old flames, they made an interesting team at the piano. Mike was a potentially professional baritone singer who never got the break he wanted and Tony used to bang away at the keys. For years, Tony's playing could never quite rival his friend's singing, but that never stopped them from performing at the bar when his Dad owned it. Eventually, though, Mike's practicing dwindled and Tony's playing improved... so now they made a pretty good team.

Tony had made more memories this week. As his thoughts rewound through the week, he was invariably drawn to Tuesday night, where he had hoped to get to know Elaine Davies a little better. He had thought they were getting along well after the Rapier Conflict. Something just seemed to change in her after they got back home. She just wasn't the same, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong. What confused him even more was her reaction to him at the end of the night. "You would have thought I had some kind of disease, or something!" He said aloud. He smiled as he realized he was talking to the air in his quarters. Although part of him had certainly hoped he and Elaine could eventually become more than friends, he was definately expecting to be friends. "Oh, well," he admitted to himself, "if she's got other people she'd rather hang with, let her."

Walking over to the replicator, he smiled. This would be a great ending to a mostly perfect week. "Computer - I need a beer, nice and cold." The small alcove in his living area complied by lighting up and producing a pilsner glass full of syntholic beer. Taking it, he walked over to his couch and plopped himself down, then put his box of pizza on the table in front of him. "Computer - how is the Broncos, Chiefs game going?"

The female computer voice responded, "There are three minutes, fifteen seconds left in the fourth quarter. The Kansas City Chiefs are leading the Denver Broncos thirty-eight to seventeen. The Kansas City Chiefs are in possession of the football on the Denver forty-two yard line. On their second down, they have seven yards to go..."

"Never mind." Tony said, shaking his head. "Denver's getting stomped. Computer - put the Bears, Cowboys game on the video panel." The game had just started. He looked over at his communicator, which was still sitting on the end table where he left it. Tomorrow, Stephen Kirk would be his superior officer again, which was still a little uncomfortable for him. After all, they had graduated from the Academy together. Sure... Steve was six years older, but still... He shook the thought from his mind. All that could wait until tomorrow. For now, it was just Steve, his friend for over ten years.

Leaning over, he picked up his comm badge and tapped it. "Moreau to Kirk."

His comm badge popped. "Steve here. What's up Tone?"

Tony smiled. "I see your Broncos are getting embarassed again."

The voice on the other end sounded a bit disappointed. "Yeah, yeah. Looks like they'll be missing the playoffs this year."

"Why don't you come on over here and watch a REAL team play football."

"Oh? I thought the Bears were playing tonight." Steve's voice was just dripping with sarcasm.

Tony leaned back in his couch. "Poke fun if you want. The Bears have clinched a playoff spot."

"Thanks for pouring salt in the wound, Tone."

Tony's voice became melodic as he almost sang the words, "I've got a fresh Angelo's pizza..."

Stephen's voice sparked to life. "You do not."

"Oh, yes I do... extra pepperoni and extra cheese."

"Extra greasy, too, I bet."

"One slice could lubricate the entire ship." Tony replied with a wry smile. He picked up a piece and had to fold it in half lengthwise.

"I'll be right there. Kirk out."