The wedding was a strange melange of cultural eccentricities. Worf’s parents had influenced him into arranging the basic format of a human wedding, complete with best man and maid of honor. He had consented, knowing that the Klingon influence would be carried well by his brethren and brother Martok whose job it was to classify the bride as worthy of the groom. Jadzia had agreed to that tradition as long as Trill custom was honored by allowing her full reign over the party afterwards.
And so it was that Captain Sisko found himself, appropriately clad in his Starfleet dress uniform, presiding over a most unusual wedding. Worf was dressed in his Klingon regalia, allowing only his free-flowing hair as an indicator of the happy occasion. Odo, as his best man, was staunchly decked out in a slate gray dress uniform with blue trim. Kira, as the maid of honor, donned a heavy looking blue dress, not far off from her dress uniform, that seemed to mimic the colors Odo wore in reverse fashion. But by far the most eye-catching member of the wedding party was the bride. Jadzia enjoyed the look of astonishing admiration that shone from Worf’s eyes as he took in the dress. Contouring to her every curve, the sleeveless cream dress managed to show off every spot the Trill had through strategically placed slits of sheer fabric.
Martok approached Sisko and deemed the bride, with a hint of rogue Klingon humor, more than worthy for the groom. From there, it was rote Starfleet ceremony, one that Sisko delighted in performing every time he had the opportunity.
It was over all too soon as Worf and Jadzia headed towards Quark’s for the reception, an idea Worf had been none too keen about. Then again, it was Jadzia’s place to plan the reception so he had found himself with no ground to argue on.
Odo offered his arm to Kira, as was his place in the ceremony, and they followed the newlyweds from the ceremony’s site on the Promenade to the bar a few shops down the way. Even in the short distance, Odo took in as much as he could — there was no telling what trouble someone was up to if nobody was around to watch them. Why he had ever consented to Worf’s request was beyond logical debate.
“Odo, I thought you were off-duty for the rest of the night,” Kira prompted, breaking into his study of the Promenade as they entered Quark’s.
“Hmph. I’m never off-duty,” Odo replied, eyeing Quark with a “just-because-I’m-part-of-the-wedding- party-doesn’t-mean-I’m-not-watching-your-every-sniveling-move” look as they searched for a table in the rapidly filling establishment.
Kira let out a sigh of disappointment. She had been almost sure he would make an exception this one night, for his friends. “There they are,” she said finally, scanning eyes coming to rest on the newlyweds. As she moved to congratulate them, Odo held her back.
“Perhaps we should give them a moment,” he explained, indicating Jadzia and Worf as they engaged in a far more passionate kiss than the one in the ceremony. “Maybe find a table?” At this rate, there weren’t going to be any left by the time he blinked again. The usually well-tabled area had been significantly depleted to allow room for a dancing floor, and it hardly seemed like enough space for everyone to sit.
“All right.” Kira tried to shake memories of Shakaar as they rose to the surface. It would have been nice if — not to say they hadn’t parted on good terms but — friends just didn’t quite afford her the intimacy her pagh was aching for. Maybe once she got a chance to talk to Jadzia and some of that nuptial bliss began to infect her … but Jadzia and Worf were no sooner heading to sit with Kira and Odo than Worf’s mother was forcing them to the dance floor.
“Mother, perhaps now is not the right time …” Worf’s voice rumbled quietly, submissive to the influence of his mother.
“Nonsense, Worf! Now, there are not enough seats unless some people start to dance — and they cannot dance until you two do.” She gently prodded them onto the floor, Jadzia tugging slightly at Worf’s arm as she became enchanted by her new mother-in-law’s effusive and guiding personality.
Kira half-tried to lean her ear to the conversation Jadzia and Worf were having as they started to dance slowly to the music. Whatever it was, it was slowly beginning to break through Worf’s tough demeanor — that, and the classically enigmatic smile Jadzia had.
“Ah! There you are!” came a relieved voice. “Come, come, you two. It’s tradition, you know.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Rozhenko, but what is?” Kira asked politely.
“The best man and the maid of honor; they must dance, too. Now, we’ve given my son and his bride just enough time hogging that floor to themselves. Come, come.” Kira found herself inexplicably powerless to the caring voice that now prodded herself and Odo out onto the floor. Kira stood as the little woman nearly lifted her from her seat and turned to see just what the response from Odo would be. To be sure, neither of them had been expecting this. The situation between them was still — a bit awkward and nothing had been said about close interaction between them.
Oh, come on, Kira. He is your friend; besides, he’s on-duty. One dance, on and off the floor, and you’ll be left with a perfectly boring evening. Kira smiled sadly at the thought; she’d had quite a few of those ever since Starfleet had retaken the station.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Rozhenko, but I don’t dance,” Odo tried to explain, even as he, too, was being goaded from his seat.
“Nonsense, nonsense. Everybody dances — especially you two, now.” She firmly led them to the dance floor and they nearly stumbled into each other at her final insistent nudge. Carefully, as if worried about catching some virus from each other, Kira placed her hands on Odo’s shoulders, and Odo placed his just above her hips. Slowly they began to rock back and forth to the music, swaying ever so slightly, unsure and unwillingly to chance anything else.
As the song ended, Kira and Odo nearly fled the dance floor.
“Well, that was awkward,” Kira said as they took up a position close to one of the supporting beams in Quark’s.
“As I said, I don’t dance.”
“Well, too bad,” Jadzia said, catching the remark as she approached them, “because you’re going to dance with me.”
“Commander, I really don’t think –“
“No excuses, Odo. Everyone else is having fun, and I think it’s about time you started, too.” Jadzia grabbed his hand and dragged him back onto the floor. Kira only shook her head complacently at the useless effort.
“I am sorry Alexander could not be here, Worf,” Helena Rozhenko remarked to her son.
“Yes, well, he needs this schooling if he truly wishes to enter the Academy one day,” Worf reasoned. He shook his head in disbelief. “I do find it hard to believe that with all of his experiences he would even consider it a possibility.”
“He wants to be in Starfleet, Worf.” Helena paused and a small, reminiscent smile spilled into her eyes. “He is very much his father’s son in that way.”
Worf looked up from the glass he had been studying, and a proud, and slightly mischievous, smile erupted on his face. “I hope that is the only way.”
“Well, he’s a lot tamer than you were at his age, Worf.” She squeezed his hand. “But then, you would not have been our Worf if you had been any different just as Alexander would not be Alexander if he was any different. I will tell you this, though,” Helena started after a brief pause. “he eats more than you ever did. He has the stomach of his father and grandfather combined. Father is afraid Alexander will eat us out of house and home literally, taking into account Klingon taste buds.”
Worf’s laugh permeated every corner of the bar. “I think, Mother, that Father should be reminded that growing boys need all the strength they can get. At least he does not go hunting late at night for a midnight snack.”
“True, very true!” Sergey Rozhenko bellowed, agreeing with his son. “Now, I have three drinks. We can each have one to celebrate –” he said with logic and reason in his voice. “Or, I can have all three. It makes no difference.” The solemn visage was betrayed only by the twinkle in his eyes.
“That is certain, Sergey, for you will only go back for more if we each take one,” Helena teased her husband.
“Ah, you know me too well, wife.”
Worf regarded his parents and their rapport for a moment before looking around to find his own wife. “Excuse me,” he said, rising as he spotted Jadzia. His mother merely smiled knowingly, watching as her son was drawn to his bride.
“Well, Sergey, both our sons have settled down with good women. Alexander will soon be off to the Academy. What is there left to do?” Helena asked.
Sergey quickly drank Worf’s drink before answering. “Well, we sit and wait until it is time to be grandparents once again.” He grinned happily at his prosperous family before finishing off his own drink.
She hadn’t seen Odo in quite awhile, ever since Jadzia had dragged him onto the dance floor. Surely he had escaped by now, so where was he? Her eyes barely registered a flash of gray in the otherwise garishly decorated bar. Odo. It had to be.
As she began to work her way through the crowd, Kira could not help but wonder why exactly it was that she was seeking him out.
Because you’ve never had to before. Usually he’s always right there. But it’s not that way anymore, is it, Nerys? Things have changed between you two — and just whose fault was it? Kira shook her head clear as she finally reached the strategically obtuse place Odo had taken up as his post.
“There you are,” she said, cheerfully, a smile spreading a bit forcibly across her face. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Why?” he asked a bit off-handedly, a murmur in the crowd drawing his attention.
“Because… because… I don’t know why; what does it matter?” Kira fumbled for a response and failed miserably. She was making a fool of herself.
“Hmph.” Odo craned his head to see what was going on near the other side of the bar — if there was going to be trouble…
“Worf!” came the commanding bellow. The guests immediately fell silent, searching for the imposing figure.
“Captain?” Worf halted his dance with his bride and looked at the arrival of a group of seven.
“I told you, sir; he’s still sore about the little incident during his promotion ceremony,” said another voice.
“I don’t think so; besides, that was entirely your fault, Number One.” Captain Jean-Luc Picard stepped forward with an open hand to congratulate his former chief of security. “Congratulations, Mr. Worf.”
“Thank you, Captain,” Worf said, a bit shocked by the entrance of his friends from his days on the Enterprise-D. Picard, Riker, Dr. Crusher, Geordi, Data… Deanna.
“Hello, Worf.” There was a sadness in her voice as she kissed in on the cheek. Things between them had been so confusing — especially once they had decided not to pursue a relationship that was obviously simply not working.
“Well, I must say,” emerged a new voice from the back of the group, “I never thought you’d get married, Mr. Worf. However, I am happy for you; everyone should find happiness in their life — I only wish my daughter would do the same,” she added in a soto voice.
“Mother!” exclaimed Deanna in frustration.
“Thank you, Mrs. Troi,” Worf managed, slightly surprised, not only by her presence, but more by the fact that she had finally succeeded in getting his name right. Within moments, Dax found herself being introduced to some of the most respected names in Starfleet and, in some cases, in the Federation, one of whom had someone else she wanted to see.
Kira was so concentrated on the new arrivals, she didn’t notice Lwaxana Troi until she had approached Odo. “There you are, Odo. I thought I might find you here.”
“Madam Ambassador,” Odo acknowledged, habit taking over.
“Now, Odo, I think we know each other well enough to break that habit,” Lwaxana said glibly.
“Of course, Lwaxana.” The tone was enough to make Kira turn her head. It was compassionate, a tone of friendship and a little more.
He never uses that tone with me, Kira thought, but something nagged at her. Yes, he has — only it wasn’t the person standing in front of you, it was another like him, one who doesn’t exist anymore. She noticed them move toward a recently vacated table and found herself suddenly fighting against tears.
Kira moved as “solidly” and “assuredly” as she could manage to the stairwell, retreating to the upper level where she could better observe the party — and a certain couple in particular. And try to figure out just why the hell it bothered her so much.
“So, Odo, how have things been for you since I last saw you?”
Odo slipped backed into human habit with a nervous laugh as he ran his hand through his hair even as he leaned against the elbow of that arm as it rested on the table, casting a slightly crazed glance at Lwaxana.
“Oh, that well?” Lwaxana tried to put a little amusement into her voice, to take the edge off of her concern.
“Perhaps you would care for something to drink? It’s — it’s a long story.” Odo found himself relaxing in her company, glad that there was something just isolated enough for him to feel comfortable talking to.
Lwaxana nodded, allowing Odo to order something for her. Once she had settled in nicely with her drink, Odo searched his memory for where to begin. “Well, I suppose I should begin with my judgment.” The memories were painful ones that he began to dredge up, memories of being judged and locked into human form, of reliving the executions of Timor, Jillur, and Ishan, becoming attached to the baby Changeling, the ensuing transformation and general adjustment period after that.
Odo paused to gauge Lwaxana’s reaction. “Well, I’d say you’ve had a full life, Odo, in the time since I left.”
“Well, that’s not quite everything.” He almost smiled at the shocked expression that popped onto Lwaxana’s face. He started to talk of Arissa and his relationship with her (something he had never been able to discuss with Kira), and most importantly, the encounter with the people of Gaia — one person in particular. He also added that, so far, Kira had been keeping him at a distance as far as possibilities were concerned. She had initiated nothing, and he had assured her he would wait for her.
“So, the ball’s in her court,” Lwaxana said, nodding as if to help all of the information sink in. “I thought there was something different about you, Odo. Now I know why: you don’t have that secret to be so protective and elusive about it. And you know what?”
“What is that?”
“I am tired of sitting here, and I think it’s high time that I got *my* chance to dance with the best man,” Lwaxana declared, rising from her seat.
“Lwaxana, you know I don’t dance,” Odo protested.
“Oh, that’s right — you sway, right?” Lwaxana asked, noticing Odo’s awkward attempt to forget that day. “And who have you swayed with so far?”
“Major Kira and Commander Dax.”
“Ah, perfect! Then, you come dance with me, and we’ll stir up a little jealousy, all right?” proposed Lwaxana.
“I don’t really think that dancing…”
“Oh nonsense, Odo. Trust me,” she added in a whispered tone, holding out a hand for him to take. Odo did so, somewhat reluctantly, and he soon found himself out on the dance floor. “Now, just follow my lead until you pick it up.”
Within minutes, Odo actually found that he was enjoying himself, and obviously Lwaxana was glad to see it. “So how’s your son?”
“Oh! Iandrew’s simply wonderful! He’s so perceptive, and I can tell he’s going to be quite a strong telepath, even for only being half Betazoid. Just goes to show that Lwaxana Troi is not someone whose influence is easily subdued.”
“That, Madam Ambassador, is a statement that I don’t think you’ll get any argument with.”
Lwaxana slapped him lightly on the shoulder even as her infectious laughter bubbled out.
Oh, sure. He’s dancing with her. He probably didn’t even dance with Jadzia and she’s the bride! Kira rested her head on crossed arms, pouting over the railing as she watched the crowd below. Why does it bother you so much, Nerys? He’s happy, isn’t he? Kira watched as her friend glided elegantly around the dance floor. It was quite evident he was happy, happier than he had been in a long while. And whose fault is that? You’re the one that had to go and be relieved when he told you he wasn’t going to pursue you, but he wasn’t letting you off the hook, was he? And besides, would you really want to be? What is it you want, Nerys?!
“There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you!” Kira turned suddenly at the voice.
“Dax, shouldn’t you be doing something bride-ish?” she asked, trying to pull her mind out of the dredges of introspection.
“What do you think I’m doing?” Dax asked. “I had to find my maid of honor! Now, come on.” Dax tugged impatiently at Kira’s sleeve.
“What now?” Kira asked even as she relented to Dax’s pull.
“I’ve got to throw my bouquet into a crowd of single women. Who ever catches it, as the tradition goes, will be the next one to get married. AND, she has to dance with the man that can throw Worf’s d’ktahg with the most accuracy.”
“That’s got to be mixing traditions.”
“It is,” Dax explained as she moved down the staircase. “The bouquet throw is a Terran tradition and the d’ktahg throw is Klingon. I’ll admit they don’t exactly balance each other out, but it should be fun.” Jadzia flashed a smile, the same one, it had seemed, that she had been wearing all day. “The men go first.”
Kira looked into the far corner of the bar, where the dartboard normally hung. In its place was a large diagram of a targ, with a few extra pads of cushioning to make sure none of the d’ktahgs hit anything they weren’t supposed to. She lined up the competitors in her mind; they did nothing if not surprise her.
Captains Picard and Sisko. Commander Riker — Kira tried to repress the memory of her encounter with his duplicate; to be tricked into something like that, not to mention the effect he had had on her emotionally. She shook her head clear of old memories. Martok, a few more of Worf’s friends from the Enterprise-D that she didn’t recognize, Julian (that gave her a bit of a laugh), Miles, and… Odo?
Kira blinked to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, but sure enough, there was Odo, standing a bit unassuredly in line, waiting his turn. “Dax, did you convince Odo to do this?”
“No, is he…” Dax, too, made a quick assessment of the prospectors. “Oh, good. It’s about time he started having some fun — although I think Ambassador Troi may have had some part in it.”
No one was surprised when Martok’s throws seemed to be holding up through the other competitors, but as Odo stepped up and threw a perfect shot, the crowd in Quark’s fell silent for an awed instance.
“Well done, Constable!” Martok shouted after a moment, coming up to congratulate him as everyone else broke into applause.
Jadzia quickly moved to gather appropriate attention for herself, herding every single female in sight into a small group.
Do try and catch it this time, Little One.
Mother! Deanna telepathically chided her mother, turning around to fix her with a look of disapproval — and so missed the bouquet has it flew past, at what would have been within her reach.
Kira watched as the bouquet flew through the air, getting closer and closer to where she stood, as unobtrusively as possible near the back of the crowd. Did she want to get married? Possibly. Did she want to dance with Odo? Definitely. Was she in love with him?
All these thoughts ran through Kira’s head in the near split-second it took for the bouquet to glide through the air and land in somewhat unsuspecting arms.
“Oh!” cried Lwaxana in surprise as the floral bundle landed smartly in her arms. The applause was almost immediate as nearly everyone had traced the path to the recepient a moment before.
“Well, there you go, Mother. Now you have proof that you’re never too old to…”
“Don’t you go bringing up my age, Deanna. I’ve been married enough in my lifetime for the both of us, and if you had been more observant…”
She is older, Kira thought. Was that what Odo wanted? An older woman? But Arissa wasn’t that much older than you, Nerys. He didn’t seem to care then. She looked up to see Lwaxana and Odo already dancing and felt an odd pang again. If only Shakaar were here… Kira let the thought taper out; she hated being the odd-man out. Everyone seemed to be happily pairing off, with the exceptions of Julian and Quark. Not that she disliked Julian, but… no. And as for Quark — most definitely no! But Odo cares for you, Nerys. He’s told you so — he waited two hundred years to tell you. Kira tried to break the train of thought. Why had he waited so long? Why hadn’t he told her before? What was he afraid of? What was it about her that frightened him?
“Why don’t you go talk to him?”
The voice startled Kira out of her reverie. “What?” she asked, turning to the speaker.
“He’s finally switched over into his off-duty mode, Major. Why don’t you go talk to him? It would be more productive than just watching him all night.”
“Excuse, Madam Ambassador, but what makes you think…” Kira didn’t know whether to be upset, relieved, or completely baffled.
“I am a telepath, my dear, and beyond that, I am an excellent observer, much like the Constable. Only he’s been trying all night not to notice you. Now why don’t you go do the both of you some good and talk to that poor man.” Lwaxana’s demeaor bore none of the usual exuberance that peppered her personality; instead, Kira felt herself being reassured and slightly pressured into doing what she had wanted to all night: finally settle things between the two of them. But as she began to scan the crowd, Kira could spot neither hide nore tail of Odo.
“He’s on the second level of the Promenade, staring out at the stars,” Lwaxana offerred conveniently.
Kira nodded brusquely, in thanks and acknowledgment, before searching for a path through the crowd.
“Oh, and, Major?” The question caused Kira to spin around. “Catch!” Kira fumbled a bit with the bouquet that was suddenly tossed at her. When she raised a questioning glance, Lwaxana only replied, “I’ve never been one much for tradition.”
Kira regarded the flowers curiously before dismissing the enigmatic comment. She had someone she needed to talk to.
She had no doubt that Odo had heard her approach; he was too good not to know when someone was walking up behind him. Kira fumbled a bit with the bouquet before just holding it at her side.
“What can I do for you, Major?” Odo asked, making eye contact through the reflection in the portal.
“Mrs. Troi thought it would be a good idea if you and I talked…”
“Oh, did she?” He couldn’t fault Lwaxana’s earnest desire to help him, but sometimes he wished she wouldn’t bother.
“Frankly, Odo, I think it’s a pretty good idea myself. There are a lot of things we need to sort through.” Kira pleaded her case weakly, not really sure of what they needed to talk about — only knowing that they had to talk.
“All right, Major, you want to talk, we can talk. Where do you suppose we go? Or would you rather stand here?” Odo asked, turning complacently.
I don’t know! I don’t know! Why do I always have to make the decisions? Kira’s mind screamed at her. He always does this, always puts the weight of decision on my shoulders. He even did it after two hundred years; why can’t he just make a decision and act on it?
“I don’t know, Odo. It’s your call,” Kira blurted finally, noting the irritated mask of impatience on his face.
Odo simply nodded in acceptance. “Security,” he replied, but Kira caught the slightest hesitation; he hadn’t expected her to turn the tables on him.
“Fine,” Kira said diffidently. She broke into stride ahead of him, leading the way… again. Why does he always have to follow me?
As soon as she was inside of the office, Kira threw herself into her usual chair — the chair that hadn’t been so usual for her recently. She had missed it, she realized, as her body settled precisely into the contours. She loved the perfect fit of the chair, the way the console was just the right distance for her to prop her feet up against it. More than anything, however, she loved being able to talk to Odo.
“That color suits you, Constable,” she said lightly, hoping to break the ice, start a bit of small talk, anything.
“Hmph,” Odo replied, considering changing back into his normal uniform; indeed, if it had been anyone but Nerys, he probably would have.
“All right, Odo, the truth is I don’t know where to start, but I do know that things haven’t been right between us ever since…” Kira paused; she just couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“Ever since I told you that I love you,” Odo finished calmly. If it was one thing he had discovered, it was that shattered dreams are much easier to deal with.
“Yes, ever since then. Things haven’t been right between us, Odo. We’ve been tiptoeing around each other, avoiding anything past the bare minimum of interaction. I — I miss you, Odo. I miss my friend.” Kira couldn’t help but think that the tone to her voice was too distant, too emotionless and hardened.
“I’ve missed you, too, Nerys,” was the faint halting response. There was silence in the office; Kira wondered that her heartbeat didn’t echo off the walls just as Odo observed and relished that minute detail. “Perhaps we could go over the criminal activities report?” he offered hesitantly.
“Perfect! I didn’t even realize it, but it is Tuesday, isn’t it.” Kira could have slapped herself with the enthusiasm she had put into responding to Odo’s pitch, but anything that got him talking, that got them talking was worth every minute.
“All right then, here you are, Major,” Odo said, handing her a padd and a raktajino, extra hot, with one measure of kava.
“Odo, how did you know…”
“I notice things, Major, including the fact that you stopped ordering two measures about a month before Starfleet retook the station,” Odo explained, trying to put the tone of simple observation into his remark. Did she really need to know that he had been so starved for her company that he had imbibed every detail as if it were the last he would ever know? No, she doesn’t.
“So, what have we got?”
“Seven items,” Odo responded, his voice ringing… happily in the office. Kira nodded for him to continue, taking a quick note of the offenders. “Items 1-3 are nothing more than petty thefts; the perpetrators were all caught before they had even stepped foot from the Assay Office. Item 4, however, is a rather peculiar incident…”
Kira sat, perfectly content, as Odo weaved the usually droll criminal activities reports into a fantastic tale of social behavior. Her mind wandered back to before they had started having these weekly meetings. “Odo,” she started, hoping he didn’t mind the interruption, “why did we start these meetings?”
Odo’s head froze, his gaze numbly fixated on the padd he held in his hand. “Wha… what do you mean?” he asked cautiously.
“Well, we never went over the reports together before; they’re just not a vital part of the operation of the station.” Kira tilted her head slightly in thought as she tried to drag up the memory.
“It was just after we returned from Prophets’ Landing and…”
“Oh, that’s right! The situation with that female changeling. I still can’t believe they would go through so much trouble to get you back,” Kira remarked, the politics of the situation cancelling out her common sense.
Odo nodded slightly, confirming what he had thought all along — he simply wasn’t worth that much in her eyes. He was expendable.
“By the Prophets,” Kira groaned, gripping her forehead in one hand, as she caught the expression on Odo’s face, “I didn’t mean it like that Odo. It’s just that — you had made it perfectly clear that you didn’t want to go back.” Kira sighed with frustration; why could she never come up with the words she wanted to? “I just — I just wish things could have been different for you, Odo, that you hadn’t had to go through so much pain.”
Odo bit back a chuckle lest she wonder why he chose now to laugh. She wouldn’t understand the irony of the remark because she did not recognize his situation — and that was how he was determined to keep it.
Or so he thought. However, even Odo’s quick reflexes did not stop a muffled laugh from slipping out.
“What, Odo, aren’t I right? You can’t honestly tell me this hasn’t been painful for you — can you?” Kira hesitantly asked for verification of… something, anything that would tell her Odo did have feelings of any kind, that he was for all intents and purposes… humanoid. She felt ashamed, of thinking of him in that way, of any way except as Odo, her friend.
“Let me ask you a question, Major. What was the most painful experience you had before coming to this station?”
“Well, the Occupation ranks pretty high…” she commented somewhat dryly, not quite sure what he was getting at.
“High, but not tops. And, unless I miss my guess, the most painful memory probably has little if nothing to do with the Occupation.”
Kira’s eyes clouded over as she thought back, to when Lupaza and Furel had been killed by that insane, revengeful Cardassian. “Not directly,” she admitted. To be sure, it was an aftereffect of the Occupation but in comparison to all the other things that had happened to her… her parents being killed, her home ravaged, her faith challenged, her thoughts restricted…
“You see, Major, sometimes something is so painful that it becomes analogous to background noise. You focus in on it every once and a while, but other than that, you only have a dim perception of it being there. You begin to focus on other things, trivial things. I suppose my being rejected by the Founders was my Occupation, my background noise. After awhile, I just didn’t notice it most of the time. They may be masters at order and dictatorship, but they didn’t come close to causing me pain, not in comparison to…” Odo quickly silenced himself. He didn’t want to go that far, didn’t want to tell her that much. She didn’t need to know, friends didn’t need to feel guilty about something completely out of their control. Odo shook his head slightly, as if to end the conversation. “Item 5 has an amusing…” His words trailed off as he looked up; Kira was staring at him, silently intent. “What?” he asked a tad bluntly.
“I’m just trying to figure something out,” Kira said quietly, never loosing her gaze from his face.
“Look, Kira, it’s not as if I blame you; it was entirely my own inaction that put me into this position. I just–” Odo stopped as he realized he had anticipated Kira’s thoughts, unwillingly to remain under her scrutiny.
Only he had anticipated wrong.
“Me?” Kira asked, the innocent surprise and shock in her voice mirrored by the painfully open expression in her eyes. She had done this? She stared at the seam the empty chair next to her made as it met the floor.
“Kira, what were you thinking it was?” Odo asked cautiously, mentally kicking himself for making an idiot of himself.
“Well, Gaia, for one! And that — that Idanian woman, not to mention marrying Lwaxana. Not to mention losing your baby… Prophets, Odo, it’d be enough for almost anyone to handle over a good portion of their life and you’ve had to deal with it all in the past few years. Naturally, I just thought that…” Nerys paused as the realization hit her full force; she had been hurting Odo, unintentionally and unwittingly, but she had been hurting one of her dearest friends. “I’m sorry, Odo.” Fatigue edged the words as they slipped from her lips, heavy in the silent room.
“Nerys,” he said gently, coming around the desk to crouch in front of her, “you’ve nothing to be sorry for. You were just being a good friend, an excellent friend. You trusted me with everything… If anyone should be sorry, it should be me.”
“You?” she asked, a twitter of incomprehension edging her words.
“I should have told you sooner, should have… should have trusted myself around you. I haven’t been a very good friend.”
“Odo,” Kira said comfortingly as she placed as reassuring hand on his shoulder, “I’m surprised that you were able to stand by me as long as you did, listening to me prattle on about Bareil and Shakaar. I just thought you were uncomfortable with humanoid relationships. I guess I chalked up all the times you distanced yourself as simply part of who you were, part of your nature. I didn’t think enough to ask if something was bothering you or… or… Oh, Odo, I’m so sorry.”
Odo laughed. “So, we’re back to you being sorry for not being a good enough friend to someone who’s sorry for the same thing. We’re running in circles, Nerys. Besides,” he added as he stood, “I probably wouldn’t have answered your questions anyway.”
“Oh, trust me, Constable. I can be just as good of an interrogator when I want to know something as you can.” Kira stood to face Odo, keeping her ground when he penetrated into what had to be her very soul with his piercing gaze.
Only this time she was the one to look away first, the one to pull back lest she get too lost. Kira picked the bouquet up from the other chair, where she had almost too gratefully tossed it. “What do you say, Odo? Care to dance?”
“I don’t dance.” He saw the pain in her eyes, and it made him regret the conditioned response. “However,” he forced, “I have been known to — sway on occassion.”
“All right. Then let’s go back to the party and sway the night away.” Kira flashed a hopeful smile at the redeveloping friendship seemed to be speeding along nicely to where they had been at least a year ago. She took a step for the door but was jolted back as Odo pulled at her wrist, drawing her back to him.
“Wh–” The half-formed question gave quickly to an insistent kiss, passionate, searching, and intensely– intensely unlike anything Kira had ever experienced before in her life. As she opened her eyes, she found herself looking at an incredibly mischievous, boyish desire burning deep within Odo’s expression — one that told her he would not be keeping much from her anymore — and vice versa.
“Another tradition, Constable?”
“A fairly new one, actually,” he responded in a low, gravelly voice.
“Oh? How new?” She felt herself supported firmly as she leaned back, trying to allow herself time to think — something she would all too soon realize was just not possible. If she let herself think about it, though, his arms wrapped securely around her, his mouth tenaciously ravishing hers, the mere pieces of fabric separating them… She drew a deep breath of air as Odo pulled back from the kiss.
“I’d say about one minute by now.” His eyes met hers, and in that moment, Kira felt herself healed, from all the pain she had seen during the Occupation, the grief that had consumed her after Bareil’s death, the confusion that had wracked her mind and pagh after Gaia… they all slipped away into the background of her mind.
“I love you, Odo.”
He reached out with a gentle hand to carress her cheek. “You realize that Lwaxana is probably feeling intensely proud of herself right about now.”
“Well, if I were her,” Kira protested a bit indignantly, “I would be jealous. Now, come on. We really should get back to the party before Dax decides to take out retribution on you and rearrange your quarters completely.”
Odo almost bolted for the door, but something held him back.
“What is it, Odo?” Kira asked, concerned immediately replacing the humor of a moment before.
“I don’t suppose I truly believe that this will all be real once we step through those doors,” Odo offered, a bit ashamedly.
“It will; I promise.”
Lwaxana observed with knowing interest as Odo and Kira made their way discretely back amongst the throng in Quark’s. Finally, I thought I was going to have to force those two to admit what I’ve know for years to each other. A twang of remorse threatened Lwaxana’s jubilant mood, but then she knew even without telepathy that Odo never would have loved her anywhere near as much as she did him. Perhaps it would all be for the best.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you,” Lwaxana replied off-handedly.
“Are you sure? I’d be more than happy to provide you with anything you need.”
Lwaxana looked at the sniveling Ferengi bartender. Oh, no. Here we go again. Remind me, Little One, to stay away from places with Ferengi!
No one understood why Deanna Troi nearly choked on the beverage she was drinking and no one really wanted to know, considering who had most likely been the reason.
“Odo, will you dance me?” Kira pleaded, as she slowly dragged him to the dance floor.
“I told you, Nerys, I don’t dance.”
“Right, right. Not what I meant. Will you… I mean, may I…” Kira fumbled with the words.
“Nerys,” he asked, interrupting her by taking her hand soundly in his, “may I have this… sway?”
“Yes, and anything else you want.” A mischievous glimmer of its own found its way into Kira’s eyes. And as they stood there, swaying lightly to the music, Kira found herself compelled to lean up and kiss her partner.
For once, Odo didn’t mind being the center of attention or being caught showing emotion in public. For once, he could have cared less if Quark had sold tours of his quarters while he was on duty.
And once again, Lwaxana found herself very proud to be such a persuasive telepath. After all, she had nothing against traditions — some times they just needed a little redirection.
(-|-)