Data sighed and looked deeply into his mug of blue ale. It swirled around with foam and a bit of backwash from his drinking it, also bits of the Gargle Blaster that the last patron drank, which was interesting because that was about a week ago when it was ordered. Either the Cantina needed a better barkeep (which Data shrugged off, due to the fact that he WAS the barkeep, though he had not served a drink since the seventh day of the Cantina), or they needed to spring for a dishwasher.

Data decided neither. Aged Gargle Blaster flakes helped the taste, and made the ale burn more. It was a late night in the cantina, the only other patrons around were Dax, in his brand new body (tall with short black hair, and looking rather familiar), snogging in the corner with Anise. Zif had moved on to better people, also closer to his own age.

Nobody else was around, the Oven had finished its prowl on the other side of the kitchen doors, and the other Cantinians were home or asleep in the rooms above. There had been no threat of invasion, no fights in the Cantina, and no battles with the Kitchen. All was quiet, except for the clicking of nails on hardwood floors as the dogs owned by the people made their prowl.

Data sniffed and took another gulp - burning liquid down his throat, interacting with acid in his stomach, and then a rush of a burning sensation coursing up between his two hearts. He sighed, sniffed again, and then finished the rest of the mug. Looking into the empty glass, he chunked it at the wall where it shattered, breaking Dax and Anise from their fun, which they resumed almost immediately. Muttering under his breath in long lost dead languages, he rested his head in his arms, his now trimmed shoulder length hair covering the bar.

A creak of the door, and another man walked in, his red hair covering his face, and a long scarf around his neck. He removed the scarf and threw it at the two lovers then sat down next to him Time Traveling Comrade.

“Hey Zif.” Data greeted in a tired voice, without looking.

“Lo.” Zif reached around and pulled a glass of water from the tap. “So, how’s life?”

“About the same.” Data snapped his fingers, and a full bottle of Romulan Ale appeared in his hand. He sat up and drained it down in less that a second. “You know believe it or not, I’m not all that happy.”

“Really? I would have never guessed. You always seem so cheerful.” Zif drank from his glass of water. “Plus you always seem to get the good girls in history. Madame de Pompadour. Guinevere.”

“Yeah, just imagine how you feel when you realize you snogged a woman in history your father danced with.”

“Danced….oh…DANCED.”

“Yep.”

“Well, you didn’t dance with her.”

“Indeed. Nine Hundred and forty seven years….and still…well…Let’s just say a Unicorn might come to me.” Data summoned another ale and drained that faster than the last one.

“Really? I would have never guessed. You seem to always have the ladies…”

Data gave him a small wink. “You’d be surprised. In my time there have actually been very few. And then with what I deal with, most I end up burying within months.”

“Hmmm….” Another silence broken only by gasps for breath by the two Tok’ra, who preceeded to apply lip balm and drain three bottles of water before going back to the snog.

“So, you’re lonely.” Zif surmised.

“Yep.”

“Ever think about doing something about it?”

“Nope…but seppku has crossed my mind. One problem.”

“Immortal.” They both spoke at the same time.

“Well, someday you’ll meet somebody. Maybe another immortal.” Zif shrugged. “Now if you excuse me, I have a date.”

“At two in the morning?”

“It’s six o’clock somewhere.”

“Yeah, thanks. Rub it in some more.” Another ale summoned, another ale drained, and another bottle thrown against the wall.

“Am I going to have to call JW to hide the ale again?” Zif blinked at him.

“Heh. JW, lep calls him a god when I’m here…I have more power in my nose that JW. He just has that sacred chair….”

“And the toasters…”

“And the toasters.” Data nodded. “Wow…I am looking at this conversation and realizing, I’m a depressing person.”

Zif chuckled. “Might want to get that looked at.”

“Meh…Freud was no help what so ever…he said everything was based on my mother, and then when I told him about the Game, despite me rarely taking part, he thought it was something COMPLETELY different.”

“Well…men running around cutting off other men’s heads to gain their power after this mysterious prize.” Zif shrugged. “I would be confused too.” He reached out and patted Data’s shoulder. “Well, good night Mon Ami.”

“Night Zif. Enjoy your date.”

Zif nodded and turned, thinking about grabbing his scarf from Dax and Anise, but now it was wrapped about both their bodies, to entwined to easily remove. “Get a room.” He called, then walked out the door.

Data sighed and summoned another mug, this time of coffee. It also had flakes of some other drink inside it, but he didn’t care. He drained the mug, and stumbled off to his TARDIS, ready for a night of sleep, and a brand new day.