Bennet was enjoying his VIP status at Quark's when a dispute at the bar caught his attention.

"Julian, I can get my own drink," Dax was saying firmly, if kindly.

"I never suggested otherwise," he protested gallantly, but he retained his grip on her glass. "I just enjoy helping you."

"I'm due at Ops in a very short time, I just stopped by for a quick snack. I really wouldn't be very good company." She tried again, unsuccessfully, to wrest her glass free.

"Dax, you're always very good company."

"There aren't even any free tables -- "

"I'm sure there are around the corner. Let me look; I'll be right back."

That was Bennet's cue. Within heartbeats, he was at the beautiful lieutenant's side. "Allow me to offer you a seat, ma'am. Jake Bennet at your service."

Dax's eyebrows rose in surprise. "The man in the escape pod?"

"And could you be the Lt. Dax that Major Kira mentioned as my other savior? I was indeed rescued by angels! Won't you take a chair at my table, so that I can thank you properly?"

"Well..." Hesitation was, for Bennet, tantamount to acceptance, and in a few short seconds, Jadzia was installed at his table. When Bashir returned, he could do nothing but stand off to one side, stunned at the speed with which Bennet had captured his quarry.

"Hey -- " he belatedly began to register a protest.

"Oh, Doctor, surely a big, strong fellow like you can stand at the bar? There isn't room for a third person at this table. Maybe next time," Bennet offered with a smile, then turned his back on him. "Now then, what was your first name?"

"Jadzia. And what you just did to Julian wasn't very nice."

Bennet grinned. "I know. But anyone who leaves a lovely woman standing alone at a bar deserves what he gets. Tell me about yourself, Jadzia. How long have you been in Star Fleet? Is this your first posting aboard a space station? How do you like it?"

Dax laughed. "Which question shall I answer first? I like DS9 very much, especially my crewmates, and no, this is not my first time on a space station. I once spent almost ten years running a hydroponics satellite -- "

"Impossible!" Bennet cried in disbelief. "You aren't old enough to have spent almost ten years anywhere except maybe school!"

She smiled. "I'm a Trill, one of the joined species. This is my seventh host."

Bennet's expression shifted ever so slightly. "Oh?"

It was a subtle change, but Dax caught it. "That bothers you?"

Jake grinned ruefully. "Sorry, but I'm guilty as charged. I'm partial to once-born species myself."

Dax blinked in surprise. "Why?"

Bennet shrugged helplessly, still smiling. "I really can't explain. Maybe it's the sense that you've got an unfair advantage over the rest of us. All the knowledge of seven lives crammed into one -- admittedly gorgeous -- skull." He continued to smile and offer the appropriate compliments, but the dynamic had shifted, and both of them knew it. "Ah well," he added with a sigh. "It's just as well. I am a married man."

"Congratulations," Dax replied. "Is she a trader too?"
"An even better one than I am," Bennet replied promptly. "She's got a great head for business. If it were up to me to set the prices for our cargo, we would have gone bankrupt long ago! Oops." He darted a glance at the bar. "I shouldn't use that word; it makes Quark unfriendly."

Dax smiled. She found Bennet funny and refreshing, especially now that he was more relaxed. "I don't imagine you'd have much to worry about, no matter how unfriendly he became."

"Well, I'd hate to get him into more trouble with your security chief. Uh oh," he added, leaning closer to her. "You'll never guess who's still over there sulking."

"Julian? I really should go over -- " Dax said, beginning to rise.

Bennet held her hand upon the table. "Don't. If you really want to make him feel great, I'll show you how."

"What do you mean?" she asked quizzically, settling back into her chair.

"The kid has a hero complex, right? He probably watches all the latest installments of the space operas? I'll give him a chance to reenact one."

"What?"

"Slap me," Bennet urged, leaning forward invitingly.

"What! Don't be silly! I'm not going to slap you!"

"Oh come on," he urged, disappointed. "I'll wager you two bars of latanum that the barroom rescue of a beautiful damsel is his favorite scene!"

"Jake, I am not going to slap you. I refuse to play a stereotyped role just so that the two of you can act out some outmoded scenario! Besides," she added, "you're not giving Julian enough credit."

"Are you kidding? I can practically write the script. You slap me, he rushes over and demands to know if I'm bothering you, I tell him to leave, and he threatens to deck me! Want to bet on it?"

"No!"

"Coward," he taunted, but she refused to take the bait.

"I will not slap you!" she said positively.

"It's all right. I'm giving you permission! Think of it as a sociological experiment: is the doctor as predictable as he appears?"

"No!"

He sighed, stymied for a moment, then a wicked gleam came into his eye, and Dax stiffened. "What are you planning?"

"Slap me?"

"No."

"How about after I do this?" The hand beneath the table moved, invisible to the eye, but Dax felt the result all too well, and her eyes widened in shock and outrage.

"You -- !"

"Do I have to do it again?" Bennet asked, doing it again.

That did it. Stereotyped behavior or not, Dax belted him.

"Yow!" Bennet blinked, trying to clear the stars from his vision.

"And if you ever do that again -- " Dax began furiously.

"Is this man bothering you, Jadzia?" Bashir panted up to their table.

"Oh, Julian!" Dax's tone was one of dismay, but to Bashir, it sounded like the piteous cry of a beleaguered dove.

"I believe it's time for you to leave, sir!" he said sharply to Bennet.

"I told you," Bennet smirked at Dax.

"Stop it!" she retorted. "And, Julian, this is not -- "

"I said, leave!"
"And if I don't?" Bennet drawled, playing his role to the hilt. "Do you really think you can do something about it?"

"I do!"

"Fine. A duel it is!"

"A -- a what?" Bashir gasped, losing color.

"I accept your challenge. A duel it shall be. Do you prefer weapons or bare knuckles?"

"I -- er -- uh -- "

"Bennet!" Dax glared at him. "Julian, don't be ridiculous!"

He stared at her in wounded indignation. "But, Jadzia, I'm doing this for you!"
"You are not; you're doing it for you, and I won't have it!" she shot back. "Don't you dare fight with him!"

"Better listen to her, kid." Bennet, with a wink at Dax, added fuel on the fire.

"Would you stop it? It isn't funny!" Dax hissed at him.

"Jadzia," Bashir said with the very stilted formality that only accompanies extreme self-righteousness and pomposity, "as a Star Fleet officer, I am certainly able to defeat some spaceport ruffian, and I have every intention of doing so!"

Jadzia glared furiously from one to the other, but she was perilously close to being late for duty. "I have to go now," she finally ground out between clenched teeth, "but I haven't finished this -- with either of you!"

"Lovely! Just what I was hoping to hear!" Bennet called after her as she stomped away.

"Er, now then, Mr. Bennet -- " Bashir began nervously, bringing up his fists.

"Not here!" Bennet scolded. "Do you want to get us both thrown in the clink for starting a rififi? Besides, why should we provide entertainment for this bunch?" He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, and for the first time, Bashir noticed that they had acquired quite an audience. "It's not like they'd even give us a cut of the betting action."

"You mean they'd wager on which of us would win?" Bashir gasped. "Really?"

"And how many blows it would take me to knock you out," Bennet agreed, rising from his seat. Before Bashir could assimilate the implied insult, Bennet had taken him by the elbow and was steering him towards the holo-suites. "Come with me. Quark won't mind if we use the holo-suites, and this way we can have some privacy."

Within a minute they were standing inside one of the rooms, while Bennet mused over the available selections. "Hmmm. I can see I'll have to do some programming while I'm here. This is pathetic. Oh, well, this one isn't too awful."

Bashir blinked in disorientation as their surrounding suddenly shimmered into a sylvan glade, idyllic and tranquil. "Er... Now are we going to fight?"

Bennet propped himself comfortably against a tree and began to chew on a blade of grass. "Fight? Are you crazy?"

"But you said -- " Bashir protested indignantly.

"Doctor, doctor, doctor," Bennet shook his head mournfully at Bashir's obtuseness. "That was for Jadzia's benefit."
"It was? Er, what was? Exactly, I mean?" Utterly bewildered, the doctor sank to the ground next to Bennet.

"Do you know one of the best ways to flatter a woman?"

"Of course!" Bashir retorted huffily. "I'm not exactly an amateur, you know!" Bennet just regarded him steadily for a moment, and slowly a burning flush crept up Bashir's neck. "Er... I mean, naturally I know what to say to women!"

"Yeah, I can see how far you've gotten with Jadzia. She wouldn't even let you carry her drink."

Bashir's blush deepened. "Jadzia is very, er, independent."

"Look, Doc, you don't have to take my advice, but it seems to me that it couldn't hurt you to listen. Rule number one: always show the woman that she's important to you."

"Well, I always say -- "

"Wrong! I said show; any insincere twerp with an oily grin and fast line can say that he cares -- Look, how do you think the Ferengi can function as businessmen? Because they talk a great line. But if you don't check your money and your fingers after every transaction with them, you'll find yourself light on both counts. It's the same with women. Talk means nothing; you've got to put yourself on the line for them. Do something."

"Like engage in a fight? But that's so primitive!"

"Hey, listen, I wasn't the one who came running over like some character in a bad entertainment serial," Bennet pointed out. "What did you expect? That you'd come over, posture a little, and I'd see your uniform and crawl away? Try that in a real spaceport bar, and you'll be picking up your teeth."

Bashir's shoulders drooped. "I just thought -- "
"Doc, if we hadn't been pals, you would've been in real trouble. As it was, you're lucky I played along."

"Huh?"

"Look, we'll enjoy the holosuite for a while, then you'll leave, and a couple minutes later I'll stagger out, holding my eye. As far as the bar is concerned, you poked me one. I'll be off this metal donut soon anyway, so it isn't as though I have to worry about my reputation. Jadzia will find out, you'll be her hero, and everything's great."

"I don't know," Bashir said, uneasily recalling the look on Dax's face as she stalked away. "I doubt she'll see it this way. She was quite emphatic..."

"So when she comes looking to tear into you for punching me, you have to handle her very smoothly."

"Ah. Er... how?"

Bennet grinned. "First thing, you tell her she's completely right."
"I do? I mean, she is?"

"Yes. You agree that you acted unpardonably by stepping into what was after all her fight, and that you now see that could be viewed as a lack of respect for her own autonomy."

" '...her own autonomy..'" Bashir muttered, concentrating hard. "Yes, yes, go on."

"Then," Bennet lectured, "you explain that nothing could be further from the truth. It was simply that you were so outraged over seeing what I had done to her that you couldn't restrain yourself."

"What did you do?"

Bennet grinned. "Never mind. She'll agree that I deserved a poke in the snoot for it. Then you explain that since she had to report for duty, you felt that, as her friend, you could represent her, as it were, by challenging me."

"And she won't be angry?"

"Not if you say it right."

"Hmmm," Bashir began to brighten. "Maybe I'll try it."

"Great," Bennet yawned and stretched. "The bird songs in this program must have some kind of soporific effect. It's almost enough to make me forget that I've been sleeping in these clothes for the past two months and curl up for a nap."

"Why don't you head over to the tailor shop and get a new set of clothes?" Bashir suggested.

Bennet considered. "I could probably convince Quark to loan me some money. Or at least I could get it out of Rom... Is the tailor any good? I don't suppose it's an Andorian? They're the best in the galaxy."

"No, Garek's Cardassian, but I think he's very -- "

"A Cardassian? On a Bajoran station?" Bennet interrupted Bashir incredulously, then began to laugh. "Very funny, Doc!"

"No, no, I'm serious," Bashir persisted. "He really is Cardassian. Granted, we all know he's a spy, but --"

"Wait a second. There's really a Cardassian aboard? And he's in contact with Central Command?" Bennet had stopped laughing.

"Yes," Bashir said blankly. "Is that a problem?"

"No. Not at all," Bennet replied automatically, but his mind was working furiously. "I was surprised, that's all. But I suppose there are plenty of other things that would surprise me about the station, Doc. Tell me about DS9."

"All right," Bashir said obligingly. "Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know," Bennet shrugged, glancing around as if for inspiration. "Well, how about starting with the computer system? Did Star Fleet Command spring for the installation of a Federation computer when you moved in?"

"Ha! You must be joking!" Bashir exclaimed. "Do you know what it's like to try to read Federation medical journals on a Cardassian computer? Not to mention what it takes to transfer records? That's all I did for the first three months!"

"Really?" Bennet clucked sympathetically. "That sounds awful. Tell me more."

#

Jake Sisko was coming home from school several hours later, when he found a stranger standing at an intersection of two corridors and looking confused. "Excuse me? Can I help you?" he asked politely.

The man turned to him with a grateful smile. "Thanks! I only just arrived here, and I think I'm lost."

"This place is like a maze," Jake agreed. "What are you looking for?"

"I'm not even sure. You see, I'm pretty sure that I've been assigned quarters but -- hey, I'm forgetting my manners. I'm Jake Bennet," he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

Jake pumped it vigorously. "I'm Jake too! Jake Sisko."

"Not the commander's son? Your dad saved my life this morning!"

"Really?" Jake might not let his father know it, but he was awfully proud of him, and his chest swelled at the news of his father's latest accomplishment. "What happened?"

"Well, I've been floating through space in an escape pod for the last two months, and if your dad hadn't spotted me, who knows how much longer I'd have been out there!"

"Wow! Were you all alone?"

"Yep, not that it made much of a difference, since I was in an induced coma to conserve energy. I lost the entire two months."

Jake shook his head sympathetically. "Ouch."

"I haven't a thing to my name except the clothes on my back. Your dad was kind enough to let me send a message to my wife, but it will take her some time to get here from the Orion colonies, and in the meantime I've nowhere to go. I'm sure your dad assigned me a cabin, but I don't know where it is."

"Did you ask Odo? He's the Security -- "

"I know," Bennet said ruefully. "We've met. I didn't want to bother him. I don't think he likes me."

Jake grinned. "That's okay. He doesn't like anybody. Even my dad thinks twice before arguing with him. Let's see if we can figure it out from the computer."

"That public access computer is a nightmare!" Bennet exclaimed. "It's a certified antique. I can't remember the last time I worked with anything so slow! Why don't your computer people juice it up?"

"Chief O'Brien's kept pretty busy just making sure the station doesn't fall apart. He doesn't have time to do a major overhaul, and besides, there isn't enough memory to do a complete backup while he's working on the main system. We'd have to get a starship here and piggyback on its computer," Jake explained.

"Hmm. That makes sense. But what about pers-- wait a minute. O'Brien? Not the same one that was on the Enterprise?"

Jake nodded. "I'm pretty sure. Do you know him?"

Bennet paused a moment, fighting down a smile. "We've... met. But that's irrelevant, Jake. As I started to say, why doesn't O'Brien at least tweak the personal terminals? If you override the buffers that the Cardassians install in everything, you can increase the computer speed by a factor of twelve. It's not safe to do it on a system that has to deal with plasma fields, like a weapons array or tractor field, so you couldn't do it to the main computer, but it would work beautifully on a personal terminal."

"Really?" Jake asked excitedly. "Could you do it on mine? It would help me get my homework done a lot faster!"

Bennet considered for a moment, then, "Okay. I don't see why not."

"Great!" Jake said enthusiastically. "My quarters are right over here."

"Really? Imagine that." Bennet's grin widened as Jake ushered him into the Sisko family quarters and pointed out their terminal. "This will take me a while, Jake. If you have any homework to do, you can get started. I wouldn't want to delay you."

"I do have plans for this evening," Jake admitted, "so I'd like to get it done... Are you sure you wouldn't mind? I'll just be in the next room."

"Absolutely. Go right ahead. Oh, and your plans tonight? What's her name?"

Jake gave him a sheepish grin as he vanished into his room. "Reena."

Left alone, Bennet spared a moment to beam triumphantly at Sisko's terminal before rubbing his hands together and getting to work.

#

That night, when Sisko returned to the cabin, Jake was just about to leave for his date. "Hi, Dad! Hey, guess what? Our computer has been modified! You'll hardly believe it's the same machine, it's so much faster!"

"O'Brien finally was able to get to it?" Sisko commented absently. "That's wonderful."

"Well, actually, Dad, it wasn't -- "

"Have you finished all your homework?" Sisko interrupted. "Or is this supposed to be a 'study session'?"

Jake took a deep breath before answering resignedly, "Yes, Dad. It's all done."

Sisko frowned. "Now it's a school night, so -- "

"Yes, Dad."

Sisko dropped the stern visage, and grinned at Jake. "Then what are you waiting for? Do you want Reena to think you're not coming?"

"See you later!" Jake made a speedy escape, and Sisko turned, smiling, to his own work.