Keymor’s request for an invitation to the next pre-game hung warmly in the noticeably small space between them, competing only with the persistent weight of his hand still resting on Jules’ knee. Before Jules could formulate a witty reply that wouldn’t betray just how fast his pulse was racing, the soft ambient lighting in the lounge dipped into vibrant pulses of violet and gold.

The Bolian bartender hit a control panel, and the quiet background hum was replaced by a heavy, rhythm-driven Bajoran pop track that immediately drew a cheer from the middle of the room.

“It seems our quiet evening has just been requisitioned,” Keymor observed, his thumb giving Jules’ leg one final, deliberate squeeze before he sat back, watching the makeshift dance floor flood with crew members.

Jules took a quick gulp of his sweet, fizzing drink to steady his nerves, looking from the swirling warp lights outside the viewport to the tall Cardassian beside him. “Requisitioned? Please. That’s an invitation.”

And before the added courage of his last sip could think to evaporate, Jules pushed himself up and launched himself toward the growing mass of bodies in the center of the lounge. He turned, catching Keymor’s puzzled eyes, and waved him over with twirling fingers and a wink.

The floor felt alive, vibrating under the rapid beat of the music and the countless feet of officers burning off stress. Bodies pushed against each other as the crowd adapted to the rhythm, and soon the swarm of bodies blocked Jules’ view of Keymor entirely. He began to sway, hips and shoulders moving to the beat.

Ensign Kamigawa, surf suit and all, tumbled into him. She was laughing – a relatively rare sight – and gave him an apology in the form of a wide smile and a quick nod. Righting herself, she placed a hand on his shoulder and began to meet his own awkward movements.

“I haven’t danced in forever,” she said, lips close to his ear so she could be heard over the music that consumed the room. “And I have to report to duty in four hours.” She winked before stepping back an inch and twirling.

Jules smiled, not even sure what time it was himself, and allowed himself to just watch her dance. He wasn’t entirely sure how good she was – but there was no doubt she was leagues better than him. A social butterfly he may be, but graceful he was not.

The two locked themselves into a back-and-forth sequence, dancing together for some time. Jules kept an eye out for his Cardassian conversation partner, but Keymor was nowhere to be found. The constant movement was the only thing that kept his stomach from dropping—the swell of the crowd and the distraction of Ensign Kamigawa the only things keeping him from obsessing over the question of why Keymor hadn’t taken his invitation of twirling fingers.

The music cycled again. It grew even louder and even faster, the sweet upbeat Bajoran lyrics replaced with rougher Klingon vocals. It took the duo a moment to find the new beat, but eventually it came to them, bodies crashing with those around them in an explosion of movement.

“Ms. Kamigawa,” came an interruption during a strict instrumental beat of the song. Both Kate and Jules looked up, finding E’Spor, the Vulcan Chief Engineer, standing nearby with a flat expression.

Kate stopped dancing, a mix of confusion and surprise on her face. She ran a hand through her long hair, pulling it out of her face, and tugged down on the tight material of her surf suit.

“Lieutenant?” she asked.

“E’Spor is fine for tonight,” he answered quickly. “Do you care to dance… with me?” He raised an eyebrow, briefly shifting his gaze toward Jules.

“Yes,” she answered instantly. Without looking back at her now former dance partner, Kate seized E’Spor’s hand and the two disappeared into the mass of dancing crewmen.

The music swelled, a crescendo of metallic clangs and Klingon shouts shaking the room, as Jules turned on the spot, trying hard to find the will to keep dancing alone. When the song ended, however, and the beginning of the next beat – this one feeling distinctly Human in its slow start – took over, Jules found himself coming to a halt.

He looked around, eyes scanning the room for any Cardassian feature. Nothing.

Had I been too forward? he wondered. Or misread the signs?

It took him another few beats of the song to work up the courage to push past the crowd and exit the dance floor. Nearly everyone at the party seemed to have gathered for the dancing; even most of the bartenders had joined in, leaving their station abandoned. Jules moved quickly to the window seats he and Keymor had occupied before the music had started up.

Keymor was nowhere to be seen, though his glass, now empty, lay abandoned next to the brilliant warp lights that swam past just outside the window.

The haze of noise from the dance floor began to swell again as the music heightened in intensity. His chest tightened. It was both too bright and too dark in here.

“How could I be so… stupid,” he shouted, his voice lost on the wind of the chorus, and he kicked hard at the bulkhead. “Fuck!” he added, a kaleidoscope of feelings bubbling up inside him.

After a moment to nurse his foot, Jules tugged at the buttons of his green shirt, tossing it aside and leaving himself in just his undershirt. “I’m so stupid,” he muttered before tucking himself against the wall and walking its perimeter to the exit.

The wide doors opened with a mechanical hiss, exposing the bright lights of the hallway and bringing with it the reminder that they were on a starship and not some club a few miles from the Academy.

He took only a few steps before stopping, eyes locked on the sight of a tall, handsome Cardassian with his arms crossed against his chest, an unreadable expression on his face as he leaned back against the bulkhead.

“I didn’t think you’d leave for at least another hour,” Keymor said, the hints of his teeth flashing as he began to smile. “Do humans always undress while dancing?”

Jules felt all the heat in his belly rise to his cheeks.

“What are you doing here?” he nearly shouted, closing the gap between them. “I thought you left!”

Keymor pushed away from the wall. While one hand moved to a pocket on his tunic, the other tucked into his side as he extended his elbow out. Without hesitation, Jules looped his hand around it.

“I don’t dance,” answered Keymor. “And I’d be a poor security officer if I allowed myself to be surrounded in a crowd so easily.”

“So you left?” asked Jules, who found it hard to focus on anything but the weight of the muscles in Keymor’s arm.

“So I waited outside,” countered the Cardassian, who now began to walk further down the hallway, Jules at his side.

“Why?”

“So I could walk you home.”