Flashback by Sue Castle. Rated R, no infringement
intended (1993 - my first fan story)
Julian awoke with a start. The nightmare had been coming more often,
sometimes two or three times a week. He was getting weary, straining his
self-control to the breaking point to keep from screaming. The nights were
affecting his days. He didn't know how much longer he could maintain the
fiction. Kira, O'Brien, even Dax,
all of them had believed his carefully constructed facade. They would be
shocked to learn the truth and he was nearly desperate to keep it from them. He
had worked so hard, for so long, to present an image to the others. Gradually
he had gained their respect, if not their friendship. He knew, in his soul, if
they discovered his past he would lose even their respect.
Each dream was the same. He was back on the streets, an orphan again. The
sun burned his skin, his body clothed in ragged teal linen, his eyes narrowed
against the glare from the sands, his lips cracked. The slave band clamped his
upper arm and the copper bells surrounded his left ankle. Their chimes
announced his every step, so his stable owner would always find him. He was
seventeen again, selling his body to survive, cutting
off his natural telempathic powers to keep his soul
from shriveling away.
The stable was his home, its prisoners his family. He was known as Ishmir the Healer. When one of the other slaves became ill
from the demands of the streets, he was there with herbs and empathy. When he
was in danger, Aliera the Warrior would protect him.
But that day Ali wasn't there.
Footsteps cracked the sand behind him. Damn. He hadn't caught his breath
from the last one. Muscles ached and his senses felt dull. Suppressing his
mental gifts left him vulnerable since he couldn't read potential violence from
clients and avoid it. But if he didn't serve them his owner would beat him
again, and he'd barely recovered from the last session. With a soft desert
curse, he swept his long curls away from his face. The gold in his ear caught
the sun. The flash caught the attention of his potential client and he checked.
Then the stranger walked swiftly toward him.
Hands reached out to him. Hard strength surrounded him, bending him back,
covering him. Once more he could not move. Sensations flooded through him. Pain, reluctant pleasure, random flashes of telepathic contact
swirling between him and his tormentor. Again he was powerless. Some
deep part of his soul was suffocating and he knew he had to escape to survive.
Now he could awaken before it finished. Then he had not been so blessed. Always
there was a scream just behind his teeth.
The insistent beeping from his wall communicator interrupted the waking
nightmare. Shaken, he tried to pull himself together to answer the call.
"Bashir." Shaky, but hopefully not noticeably so.
"Julian? Is everything all right?" Jadzia
Dax's gentle voice was laced with concern. So much for his hopes.
He was silent for a moment, fiercely ordering his thoughts. When he felt
he had sufficient control to speak without having his voice shake, he sat up
and squared his shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Jadzia, I was -- distracted.
What can I do for you?"
"We had planned to meet at Quark's this evening."
Julian winced. How could he have forgotten? It wasn't precisely a date
with the lovely Trill, but it was as close as he'd come in almost two years.
His weary mind had been too distracted by the surfacing of long buried
memories.
"Are we still on for that?" Dax's
voice broke into his reverie.
"Of course! Quark has been bragging on his exotic chanteuse. Mmm.
Give me a few moments to change. Shall I meet you at your quarters?" This
last was asked hopefully. Beneath his long infatuation with Jadzia
was a new, darker compulsion to bury old pain with brighter pleasures.
"No," she replied dryly, "I'm already on the Promenade.
I'll see you at Quark's."
"Save me a seat."
The comm link broke off, and Julian pulled
himself from the tumbled bedcovers to shower and change. Perhaps music and the
company of others who knew nothing of his real past would keep the darkness at
bay. At least for a while.
The promenade was crawling with station denizens pursuing their usual
business. Customers and vendors bickered, friends greeted one another, deals were made. The bustle should have reassured Julian,
but it only increased his tension. The pressure behind his temples was building
again, and he was conscious of a vague feeling of dread.
In his preoccupation, he didn't see Major Kira
until he bumped into her, causing her to wheel on him with instinctive grace.
"What the--" Her dark eyes narrowed and a faint expression of
irritation flashed across her strong features. "What's the rush, Doctor?
Got a medical emergency on the promenade?" Heavy sarcasm laced the
question.
Bashir focused with
difficulty on the Bajoran woman blocking his path.
"No, I'm late to meet Dax." A thought
struck him. "Why don't you come along? Quark's been promoting this new
singer. She's supposed to be quite something."
"Come along?" A twinkle showed briefly in her eyes at the idea
of showing up with the doctor - at his invitation - for his date with Dax. Maybe he was getting cold feet at the prospect of
actually getting what he'd been so actively pursuing for so long. "Are you
sure she won't mind?"
"Why would she?" He looked confused.
"Oh, no reason."
He gave her a preoccupied glance, then turned
toward Quark's. Kira allowed her grin to bloom for a
moment, but quickly sobered. This was unlike the young doctor. *I wonder what's
up?* With a decisive little nod of her head, she
decided to keep an eye on Bashir. At least until she
found out what had him distracted enough to invite a third wheel to his
long-awaited date.
The pressure in Julian's head increased as they came closer to the bar.
He had taken a painkiller before leaving sickbay, but he was afraid to take
anything very strong. His control had been eroding since the nightmares began,
and his hold on his telempathic shields was tenuous
at best. It felt like a rising tide of pain held by a crumbling levy, and if
the barrier broke even the most mind blind Tellarite
on the station would be caught in the backlash.
Before they crossed the threshold, the rush of pressure crested, and a
crystal clear moment of stillness held him. He heard the liquid tones before he
could make out the words. They wrapped him in bonds of shimmering copper laced
with flashes of gold, and he couldn't move.
~
Brother, sister, friend, lover ~
Keeping truth held deep in dreams ~
Beating wings of nightmares hover ~
Lips kept tight to still the screams~
Sweat broke out along his hairline, tiny beads tracing along his cheeks.
His feet were frozen in place, his body trembled as if
with fever. And the nightmare took shape before his eyes.
The scream didn't make it past his clenched jaw. The man's strong hands
pulled him into the darkness behind the stall. His mind shrieked at him to feel
the shadows, concentrate on anything but the sensations flooding his body. But
he was so tired. The sand bit into his back, inflaming half-healed stripes
crossing the skin. His arms came up, not to push away as his soul demanded, but
to pull him forward. Get it *over*. Then he'll *leave*. As his body bent under
the attack, his thoughts slipped completely away and he lost several moments in
a disconnected haze. The sharp jolt of pain when the man bit his neck brought
him back to himself, and he knew it was too late. His endurance had been pushed
to the limits and he no longer had the strength to keep his soul intact under
the constant assault.
Kira just managed to
avoid plowing into Bashir's back as he stopped cold
in the middle of the entryway. She rolled her eyes at his apparent bewitchment
and stepped around him to enter the bar. Glancing over her shoulder to tease Bashir about the singer's effect on his motor functions,
the words died in her throat. Bashir stood completely
still, except for a fine tremor chasing up and down his frame. His expression
was blank, and his normally warm caramel skin had a blue white tinge to it. His
jaw was tightly clenched and a white line was traced around his full lips.
But the most startling sight was his eyes. They were huge, unfocused,
with a fine sheen of tears. And the expression they held was one of pure
terror.
She caught her breath. She knew that look, had seen it on others, on
herself, too many times. He had the look of a disaster survivor who had come
too close to the flames. Without thinking, she moved closer to him, putting her
body between him and whatever it was in the bar that had provoked this
reaction.
"Doctor?" She looked hard into his eyes, willing him to look at her, not at
whatever scene was paralyzing him.
He didn't respond.
"Doctor Bashir? What's wrong?"
~
Turn your head, close your eyes ~
Dry hot sky and burning sands~
Julian heard Kira's voice from a distance, but Ishmir was foremost in his mind.
~
Make your dreams sing with sighs ~
Take your life out of my hands~
Kira was becoming
concerned. She reached up and gently touched his jaw, where a single muscle
fluttered, the only movement in his face. Gradually, his gaze pulled away from
the inner vision and he recalled himself to reality. Kira's
hand was touching his face, the station deck was hard under his feet, and that
voice continued to pour from the bar.
~
A new life, a new time, another chance ~
Tell your lies, change your name and dance. Dance.~~
Aliera. Julian closed his
eyes and drew a deep breath.
Applause came through the open door, drowning out the final notes. Bashir's eyes snapped open and he stepped away from the
major. Her hand fell from his cheek and she was relieved to see the shadows in
his eyes were gone.
"Sorry, Major." Eyes dry again, he had
regained control of his emotions. Now he was prepared to face his past. He had
no choice.
"I know this is Dax's line, but -- do you
want to talk about it?"
"No." Bloody hell, too abrupt.
"No, it's just...I'm a little...I've a bit of a headache." That was
better. Softer.
"If you say so." She wasn't buying it, but she pried only if she thought it affected the
station. This looked like a private hell, and she knew from experience that
some private hells were not for others to see. She thought fleetingly of Bareil, then turned back to the
bar.
Julian drew a fortifying breath and followed the smaller figure of the
major into the bar. What he saw didn't surprise him, but it still dismayed him.
Dax had saved seats -- evidently she had been
expecting Kira too, or perhaps Commander Sisko. And the seats were front row center of the stage. Kira wasn't hesitating, but made straight for the table. Dax looked over from her seat and smiled at them both.
"Kira! Oh, good, I was hoping you'd show. For once, the entertainment is as
good as the gambling. Hello, Julian, it didn't take you long." She broke
off to stare hard at the young man. Her tone changed abruptly, filling with
concern. "Julian. What happened?"
His attention was divided between greeting Dax
and looking around for Aliera. He turned to the Trill
when a quick scan didn't reveal the singer.
"Hello, Jadzia. Nothing happened,
I'm just a bit tired tonight. You look lovely, as usual."
Dax exchanged glances
with Kira, and Kira gave
her friend a tiny shrug. *I don't know, he's not talking* echoed in the back of
Julian's mind, and he stiffened.
"Ishmir."
Julian swiveled to face the sound of her whisper. She was more beautiful
than ever, slanting emerald eyes over high cheekbones. Her deep red hair was
smoothed back from her face to cascade down her back. The style suited her,
highlighting the flyaway brows and delicately pointed ears. The glittering
bronze gown caught the light, flattering her strong curves and complimenting
the soft mint of her skin. Aliera combined the best
features of her unknown parents, the strength and intelligence of the Romulan with the cunning and sensuality of the Human. She
had commanded a high price for their owner as such an unusual commodity.
Now she smiled at him. Viciously.
"Ishmir?" queried Dax.
The singer tilted her head to one side. She was the same height as Julian
and could see his friends over his shoulder. Dax she
dismissed as unimportant, but she recognized a fellow warrior in Kira -- who was watching her intently. She softened her
smile and addressed the still silent doctor.
"Hello again, Healer."
Julian now knew the source of his nightmares. Her presence was a catalyst
for long buried memories. Forcing a smile on stiff lips, he turned to the
seated women.
"I'm sorry, ladies. Aliera is an old
friend of mine. I wasn't aware she was Quark's new sensation. It's been quite a
long while and we've quite a lot to catch up on." He was aware that he was
babbling, but he was driven by an overwhelming need to separate past from
present. He had to get Aliera away from them. Turning
back to Aliera he quickly asked, "Do you have a
break between sets?" He took her arm before she could answer and began to
pull her from the floor. "I'll join you for the second set," he
tossed over his shoulder to his colleagues. Dax was
looking perplexed and somewhat amused, but Kira just
watched expressionlessly. He prayed it was indifference, not something more
dangerous to his carefully constructed persona.
Aliera let him nearly drag
her to a secluded corner of the bar. Then she started to laugh softly. Julian
looked at her guardedly.
"Such finesse." She snorted delicately. "Been practicing
to be a bouncer, Healer?"
"I didn't expect you to be here." Shuttered hazel eyes met
brilliant green ones.
"Here? Now? Or ever?
No, don't answer that." She put up an elegant hand to forestall his reply.
"I only fight when I choose now. I sing for my keep. And no one owns
me." She swept an assessing glance from the top of his shiny curls to the
tips of his polished boots. "You've changed, though, love. All your long pretty locks gone. Such a
nice, neat, dull uniform."
"Why are you here?" His hand burned where it touched the flesh
of her upper arm and he pulled it away. She smiled and moved closer to him in
the shadow of the stairs. Running one hand along his chest to his shoulder and
cupping the short hair at the nape of his neck with the other, she leaned
forward until their chests touched. Close as lovers.
*Because you are here* tendrils of her voice caressed his mind. *And you
know why I had to find you.*
He tried to pull away, but her strength was greater than his. Finally,
she slid her hands from his body and allowed him to retreat. A soft smile
played on her lips. He stared at her, trying to regulate his breathing. Hers
was not completely steady either, he noted with some satisfaction. They had
always been able to do this to each other -- wrest control from one another
when no one else could.
*Why?* he asked silently.
*To remember why I love you* her eyes went cold, *or kill you.*
He instinctively backed up a step.
*To remember why I love you* her eyes went cold, *or kill you.*
He instinctively backed up a step.
*Revenge. You'd be surprised how strong the pull can be.* Her eyes flared into his and memories swamped both of them.
"Is this a private stare-off, or can anyone join
in?" Quark's sarcastic comment broke into their exchange. Julian started. Aliera slewed her gaze toward the Ferengi,
who automatically jumped back and began to assume an apologetic cringe. Then he
remembered that she was his employee and stopped himself. Still, he was a
little unsure about her, so he turned to Julian.
"Doctor Bashir, it's time for the young
lady to resume entertaining my paying customers."
The doctor brushed past Quark before his mouth closed over the words,
heading for the door. Quark looked after him quizzically for a moment, then shrugged. Humans.
"The second set will begin in five minutes." At the sound of
her voice his head snapped up and he found himself nodding agreement. Before he
realized what he was doing and stopped himself, she swept around him and headed
for the bar. Quark sniffed, not too loudly, and returned to the tables to
oversee his dealers.
Dax and Kira observed the strange actions of Bashir
and the Romulan woman from their table.
"How odd." Dax wrinkled her nose at Kira.
"I wonder why she called him Ishmir? And why he left without even saying anything to us?"
And why he's so determined we don't hear them talk together, thought Kira, but she didn't say it aloud. "Well, he's been
acting kind of strange all day. Says he's got a headache. Maybe he just wanted
to give her his room combination and go someplace quieter." Kira turned an amused look toward Dax,
who joined her in a laugh. Privately, Kira wondered
about the silent but intensely charged meeting. The scarcely concealed
hostility of the singer piqued her interest.
Dax was concerned about
the young doctor, and decided to watch him for a while. If his distraction
didn't clear up soon she would try to get him to talk to her about whatever was
bothering him. And why was the Romulan calling him Ishmir? One thing she had learned in three hundred years --
she hated a mystery.
He had left the lights on in his quarters but even that hadn't helped.
Exhaustion overwhelmed him and he slipped back into the nightmare.
This assault tasted different. His defenses were down and he felt a new
sensation, unfamiliar and unpleasant. Gods, no, please ...he recognized what
was happening with terror. Pushing harder to keep the presence from his soul,
he realized that this was more than an attack on his body. This was mind rape.
The client was feeding on his pain and fear, then
forcing them back into the stream of his emotions to heighten the sensations.
His tormentor was an empath himself, and took his
pleasure in the pain of others.
Julian--Ishmir knew he was nothing to this
other being but a whore to be used until he was satiated then left behind. Each
time the surge of energy washed over his mind he cringed. Fire bathed his nerve
endings and mingled with the unwilling pleasure he experienced from the sex
itself. He was pushed beyond his breaking point, caught up in an accelerating
cycle of pain--pleasure--pressure, his mind and body at the mercy of a monster.
His screams awoke him.
The staff in sickbay moved carefully around Doctor Bashir
the next day. His usual sunny temper was absent. Nurse T'Laak
had never seen the young Human so quiet. She studied his haggard face and noted
the fine tremor in his hands as he handled the lab instruments. She was not
surprised when the woman entered the lab asking for him, although her keen eyes
took note of the visitor. Romulans, even part-breed,
didn't come to Deep Space Nine very often. She quietly pointed the way to the
inner office and looked at the doctor for confirmation. He nodded and dismissed
her with his eyes before concentrating on the woman. She left them to their
privacy. Vulcans were so much more logical about
these things.
Julian looked at Aliera as the door to his
office snicked shut, cutting off the sounds of the
sickbay outside. He rose and walked toward his visitor.
"Have you made up your mind?" His voice was ragged with fatigue
and painful memories.
"Kiss you or kill you?" She actually sounded amused. "You
must feel confident, to allow yourself to be alone with me." She glanced
around the office. "Crude, but private." She
closed the slight distance between them until they were face to face, only a
breath between them. A smile curved her lips. After a leisurely assessment of
his lean body, her eyes settled on his.
He felt the connection, frissons of sensation skittering along paths too
long left unused. For a moment all of his defenses were down, and he felt the
thoughts and emotions of the hundreds of beings on the station. Colors, tastes,
textures swirled around him. Images washed over him. Then his mind filtered out
all of the other voices to center on the essence of the woman standing in front
of him.
Aliera smoothed her palms
over the contours of his chest. His breathing deepened, matching her own arousal. Passion flared behind his eyes and burst
into her mind with the force of a bomb blast, leaving her shaken. Of their own
volition his arms curved around her, drawing her body to his, chest to chest,
hip to hip. Their mouths met, tongues delving deeply, and their hands smoothed
restlessly over one another. The long curve of his back, the sweet hollow at
the base of her throat, the strong thigh pressed firmly between hers, the soft
brush of breasts against a solid chest. Over and through the physical touch was
the mental caress, the tender mingling of minds. By the Elements, she had
missed this!
Julian was submerged in her sensuality, caught up in her touch, enclosed
by her. Then his heart began to race with panic, not arousal. The horrors of
the previous night returned to him full force and he broke away from her
roughly.
Stunned by his sudden withdrawal, Aliera took a
moment to collect her scattered wits. Their mind bond was still strong, and she
saw what he did -- blood, and a brutal stranger lying in the dirt. Her passion
hardened into anger, dispelling the last of her sensual haze. Clear-eyed, she
remembered all the reasons she had to hate him.
Bashir lifted shaking
hands to refasten his uniform. Looking up from the task, he saw her standing
still, looking calmly at him. Her hair was tangled around her shoulders and her
blouse gaped open where his eager hands had touched her, but she seemed
unconcerned.
*Ishmir.* The word was
coldly enunciated in his mind. *It appears that you decided for me long ago.* Her expression didn't soften, but he felt a trace of sadness
behind her gaze.
*I'm sorry.* He made no move to go to her. He didn't trust himself to
touch her. *So very sorry.*
She looked at him a moment longer and he felt shadow lips press one more
time to his. Then she turned and, pulling her clothing together, left the
office.
Exhausted, he slumped against the side of the desk. Concentrated
on the effort of pulling his telempathic shields back
into place. And wondered what her next move would be.
Kira studied the small
altar facing the wormhole and let her mind wander. She felt somewhat secure in
her quarters, but she never completely relaxed. Too many years of vigilance,
she thought wryly. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.
She stretched the kinks out of her back from holding the meditation
position for so long, then let her body relax. She and
Doctor Bashir were headed to the central monastery on
Bajor the next day to report to the monks on the
medical condition of the war orphans. Even after accompanying Bashir on these mercy missions for several months, they
still left her feeling vaguely uncomfortable. The expressions on the faces of
the Cardassian orphans reminded her too much of her
own as a child.
Then there was the problem of Vedek Bareil. She still felt guilty for lying to him about the
vision she had seen in the Orb. But what else could she do? He was a holy man.
Perhaps even more important to her personally, he was a kind and good man. Such
a man deserved a lover who was whole, who could give all of herself without
reservations. Kira knew she would never be whole
again, but a small part of her wished otherwise. She'd never known lovemaking,
only the rough physical release of one soldier to another in the fields and
swamps, and even that not often.
The horrors of the Cardassian camps, and the
guard who had so brutally raped her, were her secrets. She couldn't see ever
sharing those terrifying, shameful memories with anyone. Although when she
looked at Bareil, sometimes her heart would ache with
an almost overwhelming desire to just hold him. Something inside her was drawn
to his gentleness, but she'd known little gentleness in her life. She feared
it.
To distract herself from such fruitless -- and unsettling -- thoughts,
she concentrated on Bashir. He had looked like Cardie-meat that afternoon, and had been in such a rush to
leave Quark's last night she hadn't had a chance to remind him of their
mission. More as an excuse to get away from the altar, with its connotations of
Bareil, than any real desire to see the doctor, she
left hers quarters and headed to the west sector of the habitat ring. Might as well see if he's still up.
Julian's head was down and his shoulders slumped as he wearily made his
way to his quarters. The pressure was back in his head and he knew something
would happen soon. Ali had never been the type to wait for long once she'd
decided on a course of action. Perhaps she wanted him to wait. Wait and wonder,
and fear the inevitable.
As he rounded the last corner toward his quarters, he felt it. A
lightening swift brush of adrenaline and rage gave him just enough warning to
twist aside, and the hunting knife slid off his shoulder to impact the wall.
Blood burned a path down his arm as he followed the motion with a quick
sideways kick at his attacker. His right hand clenched around her wrist, beating
it into the wall to force her to drop the knife. Her knee swept up into his
groin in a vicious kick that he barely deflected. Doubled over in pain, he felt
her left arm come down over his face and up against his throat, intent on
crushing his windpipe.
*NO!* Another's voice. Kira?
He felt the impact as the Bajoran threw herself
at Aliera. But the mental shout had
warned Ali as well, and she twisted free of Kira's
hold to disappear in the shadows further down the corridor. Dimly,
Julian thought that he had to warn Kira of the
dangers of mental war cries when dealing with a telepath, but the thought died
swiftly.
"Intruder alert!" Kira barked into
her commbadge as she knelt beside Bashir
to assess his condition. "Last sighted heading toward
Sector B4, habitat ring."
"Security team responding." Odo's
businesslike reply came through. "Was anyone hurt?"
"Doctor Bashir was slightly injured."
Julian grinned inwardly. He supposed if Aliera
had actually managed to gut him, the major might have been concerned. Then again, maybe not. The grin disappeared.
"I recognized the intruder, Odo. It was Aliera, Quark's latest find." Kira's
voice cut through his preoccupation. As she finished the sentence, Odo came into the corridor. They could hear the sounds of
the security team fanning out into the darkness of the corridor beyond them.
With Kira's support, Bashir
pulled himself to his feet. He had to stop this. He was on the alert now, and
he could handle Aliera himself. He had to. If they
caught her, everyone on the station would learn the truth about his past. He
had to keep that from happening at all costs. As a multi-species specialist, he
knew that there were races in the universe who would not allow someone who had
been a slave and a prostitute to touch them. He would be considered an
untouchable and be unable to function as a physician. The real reason he had
asked to be posted to Deep Space Nine -- to get as far from Earth as possible
-- would become painfully obvious. Most importantly, he couldn't stand to see
the friendship and dawning respect in his crewmates' eyes turn to disgust. He
couldn't take the risk of them finding out the truth.
All of this passed through his mind in a flash, and by the time he was
upright he had his story straight. It would make him appear a fool, but better
a fool than the alternative.
Staightening against the
wall and steeling himself against the pain flaring through his shoulder and
stomach, he pulled away from Kira's hands. Refusing
to look at her, or at the knife glittering on the deck, he concentrated on Odo.
"Thank you Kira. Constable, please call
off the security team." Both Kira and Odo looked at him in disbelief. "It was a ...
misunderstanding. I invited Aliera up to my quarters
for a nightcap and ... misread her response. She interpreted my overtures as an
attack and ... defended herself. The fault is entirely mine."
Kira's expression made it
clear she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Odo
gave him a hard look, then walked away with a short
shake of his head. As he left they heard him recalling his security team,
muttering something under his breath about the stupidity of -- certain --
Humans.
The major looked at Bashir for a long time, but
he refused to meet her eyes. Finally she pushed off from her position at the
wall and nodded curtly.
"Don't forget, Airlock 3, 0600. Try not to bleed all over the
monastery."
As she stomped off, she thought she heard a quiet "Thank you."
Kira inhaled the
fragrance of the garden deep into her lungs. The doctor's report had gone well,
and the monks were appreciative of the joint Federation Bajoran
efforts to help the orphans. There were so many people who needed help, and so
few resources to go around. She turned at the sound of a footfall on the path
behind her.
"Good morning, Nerys." Bareil's velvet dark eyes sparkled at her. Damn, why did he
have to be so beautiful? It just made it harder to resist him. She smiled back
at him and wished again that she could somehow be better, be worthy of his
affection. His eyes suddenly sobered, and he said softly, "But you
are."
Startled, her eyes flew to his. Before she could frame a reply -- how on Bajor had he known what she'd been thinking? -- the sound of fighting nearby caught her attention. Turning,
they raced as one around the garden wall.
His report had gone better than he'd expected. At least here there was
understanding, if not acceptance, of the problems the Cardassian
orphans faced. He stepped into the sunlight outside the garden and stretched
cautiously. The dermal regenerator had taken care of the shallow furrow left by
Aliera's blade, but he was still bruised and stiff.
*Face
Kira and Bareil skidded around the edge of the wall and jerked to a
stop in disbelief. The station doctor and the Romulan
half-breed were circling one another, the only sounds the grunt when a blow
connected, or the scuffling of their feet on the grass. It occurred to Kira that the sounds of combat that had drawn her here must
have been subliminal, because both fighters were eerily silent.
Her momentary paralysis at the strange sight broke when she saw Dr. Bashir go down under a sideswipe of the knife. With no
wasted motion she leapt like a panther on the alien woman. Bareil
ran to Bashir's side and pulled him from harm as the
two warriors fought. But the doctor seemed unaware of his surroundings. His
eyes were fixed on something far away, his body was
stiff and cold.
Ishmir -- Julian had to
stop it. If he let it run its course he would be destroyed, left a husk with no
mind or emotions. Intent on his pleasure, the empath
pushed harder, feeding on the rising crest of fear, arousal and pain in the
emotional loop. As the intensity reached its climax, he lost himself in his
pleasure, and never felt the younger man pull the knife from the sheath at the
small of his back. Ishmir had plucked the location of
the knife from the empath's mind without his
knowledge. The empath was a creature purely of
emotion, with no telepathic ability at all.
With the last of his strength, Ishmir drove the
knife deep into his attacker's back. Pain flooded the empathic loop they
shared, mixing with and finally overcoming the ecstatic pleasure. Ishmir read astonishment and disbelief as the empath's life drained away, and he felt himself being
sucked helplessly into the vortex.
"Ishmir!" The scream cut through the darkness. Ali pulled him away from the corpse
on the ground, channeling strength to him through their mental bond. But
something in Ishmir had broken. He looked at Ali with
uncomprehending eyes, then pulled free of her hands and ran. As
hard as he could. He didn't care where, he just ran with the instincts
of a wounded animal.
He didn't look behind to see what happened to Ali, but their mind link
had not broken. Years later, when he finally remembered the details of that
time, he knew what had happened to her. And he knew she would find him.
It had been some time since Kira had fought
such a skillful street fighter. The woman was vicious and determined. Finally, Kira saw her opening and went after her. Too late, she saw
the trap, but she couldn't stop her forward momentum in time. The Romulan curved her foot around Kira's
thigh and slammed her into the wall, and Kira blacked
out.
Bareil looked up in time
to see Kira lose the fight. A wave of rage swept over
him and he started toward the alien woman. As if she had felt his advance, she
halted and threw up a hand. He stopped abruptly, feeling as if he, not Kira, had gone headfirst into the wall. When he had shaken
the pain from his head and the ringing from his ears, the woman had
disappeared. Kira was rolling over and sitting up,
and he went to her.
Julian had come to himself to see Kira, dazed,
with blood streaming down her face, being supported by Vedek
Bareil. The Vedek looked
grim-faced, and his eyes showed lingering traces of pain. The doctor mentally
probed the Vedek, gently, to determine if Aliera had done any permanent damage with the psychic bolt
she had thrown at him. He found none, just the remnants of a nasty headache. Bareil would be all right. Judging by the care with which
he held Kira, so would she.
They returned to the monastery, Bareil telling
the guards about the fight as they went. Kira hadn't
had time to call for help, and Bashir had been
incapacitated by his flashback. He knew they wouldn't find her. Aliera was long gone by now, and it would be some time
before she returned. But their mind link had been reopened and strengthened.
Next time he would be prepared.
The doctor took Kira to sickbay as soon as they
docked at the station. She was irritated with herself for letting the other woman
escape, but submitted to his ministrations. They were silent as he worked, and
she waited to see what he would say.
"Well, aside from a slight concussion it looks like you'll be just
fine."
"I have a hard head."
There was a short silence as he straightened his equipment. Finally his
movements stilled and he met her eyes.
"Thank you."
"Are you going to tell me about it?"
"I ... can't. Not quite yet." Not quite *ever*. His eyes
dropped to the scanner in his hand.
"Is she a threat to this station?"
His head came up at the question. He thought for a moment, his mind
reaching out for Aliera. He felt distance, and it was
growing. "No, not now."
"Then it's your story, not mine. But if she comes back -"
"I'll tell you immediately," he broke in.
"Good." She slid from the table and looked at him for a moment.
Then she turned and left sickbay.
He looked after her for a moment then pulled off his shirt to repair the
cuts Aliera had given him. None were too severe, just
some new scars to add to the thin white lines crossing his torso and back. He
had barely had time to replace his clothing when the door opened to admit
Commander Sisko. His face was grave, but concern
showed in his deep brown eyes.
"I heard you and Major Kira had a close
call down on Bajor. What happened?" It was a
command, not a question, and Bashir unconsciously
straightened his spine. Meeting his superior's gaze, he told the older man as
much as he could.
"Aliera knew me from ... a long time ago.
I hadn't had any contact with her for some time ... but there is bad blood
between us. I didn't expect she would actually try to hurt me, but thanks to
Major Kira she didn't do much damage."
"What about the incident last night outside your quarters? Odo told me you had described it as a seduction that went
wrong. The woman came after you with a knife." Sisko's
eyes drilled into the doctor. "Care to revise your story?"
"No, sir. I misread
her motives. She was planning on attacking me-"
"Why?"
"-even then... I ... involved her in something a long time ago and
she hasn't forgiven me."
"She must have a long memory. And a taste for
revenge."
Julian's eyes dropped to the regenerator he still held. Carefully he
lined it up precisely with the tricorder on the
shelf. "Romulans do, sir."
Sisko leaned against the
examination table. Crossing his arms over his chest, he studied his chief
medical officer.
"Two questions," he finally said. "First, have you alerted
Odo to the danger she poses to the station?" He
paused for Bashir's response.
"Yes, sir." He'd done that on the runabout returning to the station. When the Bajoran monastery guards had made their report, he had
appended a personal report to the constable. Without going into details of his
past, he had warned Odo that Aliera
was dangerous and might return to Deep Space Nine. Inwardly, he knew she
wouldn't. Not right away. Maybe not ever. Having
failed twice, she would know that the security forces were on alert. More
importantly she would know that his mind link with her was strong again. Having
been warned, she would not be able to take him by surprise.
"Secondly," Sisko's voice broke into
his thoughts, "does this have anything to do with your sealed personnel
records?"
Julian stared at Sisko for a moment.
"Yes, sir." Quietly. The commander nodded once, then straightened away from the table.
"If, in my judgment, the safety of this station is compromised, I
will petition Admiral Sanderson to open your records, Doctor." Julian went
very still. "As of now, that doesn't appear to be necessary." He
relaxed fractionally. "Next time your past comes back to bite you, talk to
me. Or I will do it."
Looking at his somber expression, Bashir had no
doubt that he would. "I'll tell you, sir. I won't try to handle it on my
own, not if it puts someone else in danger."
Sisko's face softened
somewhat. In a friendlier tone he replied," You don't have to be alone in
this, Julian. That's what your friends are here for."
Julian nodded, but he couldn't speak. Sisko
gave him a half smile, then left the lab. As his
footsteps faded down the corridor, the words Julian couldn't squeeze past his
tight throat echoed in his mind.
*But my friends don't know -- or they wouldn't remain friends.*
Kira was drawn into
Quark's by the unmistakable sound of an enraged Ferengi.
"-has disappeared! I have a *contract* with her!! How could she
just-"
"Quark!" Odo's voice cut across the tirade. Kira slipped unnoticed to the side of the bar to watch the
fun. If she was lucky maybe she'd learn something.
"What!!" Quark shot back at Odo.
"Your entertainer has quite a history. She has outstanding warrants
for murder and larceny on at least five planets, from Earth to Rigel IV. Do you ever do background checks?"
Quark glared at Odo, then adopted a more
conciliatory posture. "Her voice is magnificent. And my customers really
liked her."
"Right." Odo looked down his slightly unfinished nose
at Quark. "When she's not trying to kill them."
As Quark began to argue with the shape shifter again, Kira
slipped back out of the room. Walking along the Promenade, she spotted Julian
sitting at a table in the replimat. A steaming cup
sat in front of him, but he seemed unaware of it. Kira
paused, then walked determinedly toward him.
She stood in front of him for a few moments before he became aware of her
presence. Looking up, he waved a hand to indicate the chair across from him.
"Join me?"
"Yes." Settling firmly into the chair, she clasped her hands
together and looked at him over her intertwined knuckles. He returned her gaze
thoughtfully.
"I suppose you'd like some answers."
"I'm not asking." One brow went up, then
he narrowed his eyes at her. "Your past is your business. It only becomes
my problem when it affects this station or Bajor. Vedek Bareil could have been hurt
this morning."
Julian flushed at her harsh tone. She was justified in her anger, but he
couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth. Finally he found his voice.
"There are...things about my past that... could hurt my friends. I'll make
sure that doesn't happen. I swear. But I can't talk about it." His face
pleaded for her understanding, and he was surprised to find it in her eyes.
"Because you think we'll lose respect for you?"
"Because you'll hate me."
The bald statement didn't shock her. Obviously Bashir
had darker secrets than she'd ever expected, and he was desperate to keep them.
He'd even faced a murderer alone to keep his past hidden. "You have little
faith in your friends, Julian." His head came up and he watched her face
intently. "A person's past is his own. You do whatever you have to do in
order to survive. No one can blame you for it. Your friends judge you by who
you are now. If they don't, they're not friends, and you're better off without
them. But don't underestimate friendship, Julian. It's stronger than you
think."
When he didn't reply, she reached across the table and pushed the cup
closer to his hands. Then she gently patted his clenched fists and said,
"Think about it."
Rising, she felt the doctor staring after her as she left the replimat. Her mind replayed their conversation, and the
truth of her words crystallized in her heart. She thought back to Bareil. Through the haze of pain that morning she had seen
him rush to her defense. Perhaps she had been underestimating the strength of
his friendship as well. Deep in thought, she continued on to her quarters. She
would see Bareil the next day, check up on him after
his adventure with Aliera. They had a lot to talk
about, and the Orb was only part of it.
Dax hesitated outside
the door to Julian's quarters. This would be a difficult discussion, but she
wanted to help him if she could. Her feelings for the young Human were deeper
than she had expected. Julian was getting close to breaking under the strain of
his secrets, and she was hoping he would confide in her before that happened.
She hoped he trusted her that far. Reaching up, she pressed the chime.
"Enter."
The door slid open. The interior of his quarters was in shadow, and the
soft sound of an ancient Earth instrument floated on the air. Stepping inside,
the door shutting behind her, she recognized the haunting sound as a tenor saxophone.
Julian was standing by the window, staring out at the spread of stars over the
second docking bay. He didn't turn to face her, but she knew that he was aware
of her presence. "Hello, Julian. I need to talk to you."
With a slight sigh, he shifted his stance to face her. Her face was open
and sympathetic. He read comfort, deep caring and understanding coming from
her, with no censure or disapproval. Without quite realizing it, something cold
deep in the center of his emotions began to thaw.
"I did something that may make you angry. I was worried about you
and I didn't trust Aliera." She moved a few
steps closer and he caught a whisper of thought. *Please don't shut me out. I
care about you.*
He stiffened and addressed her directly. "I won't be angry. What did
you do?"
She nodded once, then crossed the room to stand
beside him at the window. Now she was the one who stared out at the wash of
stars. Not looking at him might make this easier to say.
"I ran my own background check on Aliera.
She is wanted for a murder committed ten years ago on Earth, as well as four
other killings and a numbers of thefts on several worlds. She works as a
freelance assassin and thief, and she's good at her work. But I couldn't figure
out why she would want to kill you." She felt him stir beside her, but he
remained silent.
"So, I went back a little further. Aliera
was a slave in a small autonomous oasis in the Saharan desert. She worked as a
prostitute there until her eighteenth year, when she murdered one of her customers
and somehow managed to escape off planet." She pause
again to give him an opportunity to respond, but he stayed silent.
"Another slave disappeared about the same time. Authorities figured they
might have escaped together, since they were very close to one another. He was
also a market place prostitute. His name was Ishmir."
A shudder went through his body. She was close enough to feel it rip
through his frame, her arm brushing his. But he didn't pull away. "Please,
Julian. Talk to me. I'm a good listener. I'm your
friend. And I'm good at keeping private stories secret."
Silence followed her plea. It felt like hours but could have been
measured in heartbeats. Finally, Julian's left hand turned and blindly sought Jadzia's right hand. Her fingers curled around his and he
drew strength from her grip. Still staring at the stars, he began to talk.
"Aliera didn't murder that empath. I did." Dax's grip
tightened in reassurance at the pain in his voice. "I ran. Left her there. She had always protected me. Always. And she did then." His voice was scratchy, as
if he hadn't spoken for a long time. As he continued, it grew softer, and the
words flowed like water breaching a broken dam. "I ran as far and as fast
as I could. Ali and I shared a mind link, so I knew what happened to her. But I
was in shock and couldn't help her. I had been with a customer earlier that
day, an ambassador visiting friends in the area. She hadn't left her camp yet,
and I ran to her. She didn't ask any questions, just took me with her when they
broke camp." His voice faltered for a moment, then regained strength.
"She took me to
"Aliera has a right to hate me. She took
the blame for my crime, and she has been running ever since. I set her on the
path she follows." He finally turned his face toward hers. Searching her
eyes, he found no sign of the disgust he had feared. Acceptance and comfort,
not rejection, shone in her clear blue eyes.
"She follows her own path, Julian," Dax
softly replied. "You followed yours. She did have a choice, in the end.
She didn't have to become an assassin. She found an affinity for death." Jadzia unclasped their hands and drew him to her in a
fierce hug. "Your past is part of you, Julian, but it's not who you
are," she whispered in his ear. "You are a healer, an officer, a caring,
sensitive man, and my dear friend." Pulling away slightly, she brought her
mouth to his in a gentle kiss.
One edge of his mouth quirked as she drew back. Reaching out, she brushed the tears from his face. There was need in his
eyes, need to make contact with another being with love and mutual caring, to
banish the darkness. Dropping his empathic shields, he felt her deep warmth. And underneath the friendship, the promise of more.
Silently, he reached for her and pulled her close to him. Their lips met,
hands working to loosen clothing and rid themselves of the barriers between
them. Her arms came around him and he let himself be drawn into the warmth of
her embrace. As he lowered her to the thick carpet beneath the window of stars,
he felt himself surrounded by her.
"Jadzia," he murmured. He tangled his
hands in her hair and brought her face to his again. She traced the line of his
throat with her fingertips, responding joyfully to him.
"It's all right, Julian. It will be all right."
Surrendering to the force of her emotions and his, he believed her.
By all the Elements and their attendant Spirits, she *hated* swamps. One
more unpleasant experience to lay at Ishmir's door. Aliera's breath
was coming in harsh gasps, and she made a concerted effort to quiet them. Not
that there was anything humanoid around to hear her, but she was catching stray
thoughts of small swamp predators flitting through the steamy darkness around
her. The Bajoran woman had been as fierce an opponent
as she had expected, and Ishmir -- no, she should try
to think of him by his new name, since he had worked so hard to hide from her
-- Julian, then. Julian still knew how to fight dirty. She'd had more practice
recently, of course, but adrenaline and desperation did wonders for his
fighting abilities.
Ali stopped at a fallen stump, broken and seared by some unidentified
weapon during the Cardassian occupation. Even here,
deep in the swamps, there were signs of violence. Checking for poisonous
inhabitants with a jaundiced eye, she decided the rest was worth the risk and
dropped down onto its mossy top. Closing her eyes and drawing a deep breath,
she cast her thoughts out into the immediate vicinity, alert to danger. Feeling
none, she relaxed a fraction and took an internal inventory of her wounds. Luck
had been with her as well as skill. She had bruises, bumps, and some nasty
cuts, and her telepathic shields ached from the beating Ish
--, Julian, had given them, but there were no broken bones and the cuts didn't
go too deep. The scrapes were a distraction and she'd have to be careful of
infection, but overall she was in surprisingly good shape. Her worst weakness
was in her reserve telepathic capabilities. Between the vicious fight with her
old stablemate and the final psi
bolt she'd had to throw against the priest, she was drained. She couldn't keep
going without a rest and she couldn't afford to give away her position. She
knew Julian would be reaching out, searching for her. Burrowing deeper into the
soft hollow of the log, she damped down her flickering projective powers so she
couldn't be easily traced. Keeping her skinning knife firmly clasped in her
hand, she closed her eyes and slept.
Waves of sensation broke over Julian. He was surrounded by the essence of
Jadzia, her touch, her scent, the whispers of
emotions weaving themselves along his nerve endings, just under his skin. He
felt more alive than he had in years, and suddenly more vulnerable. The
rational voice in his mind insisted that she was no empath,
that Dax was not deliberately overwhelming him, that the force of her emotions was carrying her along with
him. But something deep in his mind shrieked and twisted, trying to escape her
touch. It didn't recognize the comfort in her presence, only the power of her
closeness. And no one had been this close in a very long time. Persa had been his love, at least until her father had
discovered his past, and given him the choice of leaving her or having her
learn the truth and losing her anyway. But Jadzia
already knew. And that knowledge added to the depth of a touch he was simply
not ready to face. With a gasp he tore away from her, and she started.
"Julian? What is it? What happened?" Clear blue eyes, concerned
and gentle, met his in the wash of starlight. He looked at her and the
exquisite irony struck him. Pulling back, he ran his gaze over her fully clad
figure, hair slightly disarranged from their kisses, but otherwise unruffled.
He looked down at himself, not a fastening undone, and laughed softly. Bitterly. All in their minds. What
a joke.
Jadzia lifted a hand to
his cheek. Lightly caressing his skin, she tilted his head until his eyes met
hers. "Talk to me. Please. I didn't mean to just drop all of this on you
but I needed to let you know what I had found out."
"How --" his voice was strained. How could she be so composed,
considering the thoughts she had so recently been having? He caught her hand in
his own and lowered it from his face. Obviously she didn't realize that he'd
been eavesdropping on her emotions. Hopefully he could keep it that way.
Changing his original question, he continued. "How did you find out so
much? I thought those records were sealed."
"Yours are. And there was no direct tie between you and the Ishmir records, Julian." Her expression was grave. The
Trill markings along her temples were very dark against the pale oval of her
face in the dimly lit room. "But given Aliera's
attacks on you, and the fact that she called you Ishmir,
someone else might make the same logical connection." She gripped his
hands as an involuntary shudder went through him. "You've done a good job
of creating a new personal history. If you continue with it, I think you'll be
all right. Kira and I will back you up." She
paused and weighed her words carefully. "So would Commander Sisko."
"No." His response was immediate, sharp and hard. Sisko had made it clear that he would only delve deeper
into the truth if the station was in danger. Bashir
intended to make sure that it wouldn't be.
"Don't underestimate Benjamin. He has a greater capacity for
understanding than you know."
Julian brought their joined hands to his lips for a gentle kiss. The
softness of her skin belied the strength of her grip. For a brief instant he
saw those ivory hands against the darker caramel of his skin, and his body
responded. Glancing from her hand to her eyes, he saw awareness growing. Her
pupils dilated and a slight flush spread across her cheeks. He felt a faint
line of perspiration begin along his upper lip. The slightly heavy sensation of
arousal and heat centered in his groin made it difficult to concentrate.
"I'd rather not involve the commander if I can help it." He moved
toward her slowly, curving his free hand around her neck, burying his fingers
in the heavy fall of dark hair at her nape. She ran her hand up his chest,
feeling the warm muscles slide under her palm, allowing her fingertips to rest
at the pulse beating at the base of his throat.
"What happened earlier, Julian? You broke away from me as if I had
burned you." She was almost whispering, her eyes
locked on his, trying to read the secrets behind the gold- flecked brown. The
color was almost translucent, and perfect for hiding his thoughts, because it
pulled her in until she forgot everything but how beautiful he was. As the
question penetrated the haze of arousal between them, his eyes went opaque, as
if a filter had slipped over them. His face set in hard lanes, and she almost
cried out at the lost intimacy. For a long moment they were frozen in place, then he gently disengaged their hands and stepped back.
"I'm sorry, Jadzia. I really can't talk
about it all just yet." She shook her head as if coming out of a trance
and he smiled sweetly at her. "Thank you for coming here
tonight. It means a great deal to me that you should know the truth and
still choose to be my friend."
She looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "Of course I'm still your
friend, Julian. Surely you don't think that I'd condemn you for doing whatever
you had to do in order to survive?" His silence answered her. Wryly she
continued, "I've lived too long for those kinds of judgments."
Reaching out to him again, she caught him up in a fierce hug. After a moment
his arms came up around her and he held her tightly. "It's okay," she
whispered in his ear. With a final squeeze, she released him. "Will you be
all right?"
"Yes." He gave her a quick, lopsided grin. "Takes
more than a mad, murderous specter from the past to get to me." His
comment surprised a little gurgle of laughter from Dax.
With a nod, she turned to leave. At the door, she paused. Looking back at him
over her shoulder she opened her mouth to speak, but his words were faster.
"I'll talk to you if I need to talk to anyone, Jadzia."
She grinned at his comeback. "Good!" Turning back to the door
she left his quarters. After the doors met behind her he allowed his grin to
fade. "Thanks, love," he softly said. Lifting his face back to the
field of stars outside the window, he withdrew into his thoughts.
The night had been one of the longest Kira had
ever experienced. She was always happier when she could be in motion. She'd
learned how to be patient when she was running underground terrorist operations
against the Cardies, but it had never been her
strength. Now that morning had finally arrived she was anxious to get back down
to Bajor and check on her Vedek.
The thought made her pause -- when had she begun to consider him to be hers? A
soft smile curved her usually stern lips, and Kira's
cinnamon eyes unfocused, but only for a moment. With a decisive snap to her
step she gathered her thoughts and made her way up to Ops. Sisko
shouldn't have any problems with a short day trip to the monastery. After all,
he was cultivating Bareil's friendship and would be
concerned about the Vedek's well being after the
previous day's adventures. The major was completely unaware of the little smile
playing around the corners of her mouth as the lift took her to see the
commander.
Unfortunately for the doctor the infirmary was very quiet. Only two routine examinations, one sprained wrist and a slight
electrical burn. Not that he could have handled much more today. Haunted
eyes looked back from a drawn face in the reflection from the shiny instrument
panel in front of Bashir. With the reawakening of his
telempathic powers, he was having
to deal with more than just nightmares. Random thoughts, little flashes of
emotion, kept jolting him. He could shut out most of the sensations, but the
stronger impulses kept seeping through. The effort was exhausting, not just to
minimize the contact but to pretend that nothing was wrong, to suppress his
reaction whenever someone came too close, whenever he was buffeted by another
wave of feeling or another stray thought. *My communications equipment is
shorting out* he mused with a faint smile, uncomfortably aware of how close
that smile was to a grimace.
"Doctor Bashir? Do you have a
headache?"
*A corker of one!* He smiled up at the young nurse leaning over his left
shoulder, deliberately suppressing his awareness of her pleased reaction. Why
couldn't T'Laak be on duty today? Humans were no good
at control, and this one -- what was her name? -- was a mass of emotion.
"No, nurse, I'm just ... concentrating. Thank you."
She smiled tentatively at him. "All right, sir. Is there anything I
can get for you?"
*Shielding? Stun gun? Romulan ale -- straight?!*
"Have you finished scanning the last of the biopsies from the -- " He
broke off sharply as he felt it. Faintly, niggling at the
back of his mind, making his nerve endings tingle. Aliera?
"Sir?"
Julian looked back at the now quite concerned nurse. Sorell, that was her name.
Gods, his concentration was completely shot. He had to get some sleep and
recover from the beating his mind and body had been taking. But
first things first. "I'm very sorry, Nurse Sorell.
Please continue with the scans. We've no more appointments for this afternoon
and I have ... some matters I must attend to. You and Krella
have everything under control?" Receiving her confirming nod with relief,
he quickly keyed in the final sequence on the organ typing he'd been trying to
finish. "I'll take off then. Call me if you need me." *And I
certainly hope you don't.*
She stepped back as he rose from the console and watched him walk from
the infirmary. *Poor Doctor Bashir. He looks awfully
tired. I hope he's not getting sick.* With a little
shake of her head, she stepped back to her work station.
As Julian slowly wandered toward the habitat ring, he concentrated on the
faint trace of Aliera he thought he had sensed. Part
of him was frightened by the thought that she might not have left the area. She
represented a serious threat to all that he had built here, to him personally
and to his crewmates, not to mention innocent bystanders who happened to get in
the way. But a stronger, deeper part of him was fiercely happy that she might
be near. Whatever they were now, at one time they had been closer than family.
There were still things they needed to say to one another, and there were still
issues to resolve between them. And regardless of how she might hate him now,
she had loved him once. Loved him when all anyone else saw was a convenience,
not a person. Loved him when he had only had contempt for
himself. And for that gift, he felt he had to see her one more time. If
thanking her for saving his life then should cost him his life now ... it might
just be worth it.
Sisko looked up from the
parts inventory he was studying when the chimes sounded. *Anything beats this
stuff. What did the Cardassians use for building
material? Foil?* His relief at seeing Dax walking in
was obvious on his face. "Old man! Come to rescue
me from all this paperwork?"
"The bane of a bureaucratic existence,
Benjamin." With a smile she seated herself on the corner of
his desk. "Anything I can help you with there?"
"No." With an impatient sweep of his hand, Sisko
shoved the datachips into his drawer. "It will
wait." He tilted his head to one side and looked up at his old friend.
"You look serious, old man. The question should be,
how can I help you?"
Jadzia held his gaze for a
long moment. "Benjamin, you haven't been talking to me."
"What? About what?"
"I don't know if it's because you haven't had a lover for a while
now-" Dax ignored the small choked noise Sisko made and continued to hold his gaze, "-or if
it's because I'm female now. And I really need you to clarify the situation for
me." Dax paused and gave him time to respond but
he was momentarily speechless. She softened her tone. "Because, you see, I
really need to talk to you. And I can't if you look at me and only see Jadzia, not Dax."
Sisko gathered his
thoughts before he answered her. He had been ambivalent about sharing
confidences with Jadzia, where he hadn't been with Curzon. But, damnit, he hadn't
been attracted to Curzon! And Jadzia,
for all her experience, was still,... well, a woman.
Looking hard at his old friend, he saw past the beautiful face and read the
need there. Dax really did need to talk to him. With
the number of times that Dax had been there for him,
he certainly wouldn't let her down now. Soberly, he nodded. "It's because
there really hasn't been anyone to talk *about*, Dax.
I'll admit I'm still adjusting to your new form, and still getting to know Jadzia-" She smiled at him and he relaxed a little.
"But you're my friend, Dax. If you need to talk
I'm perfectly willing to listen. And if I need to talk, you're who I will be
looking for." He stopped, knowing it had been phrased awkwardly, but
unsure of how to say it more eloquently. It seemed to be enough for the Trill,
though. After a final searching glance at him, she hopped off the corner of the
desk and began to pace.
"I have a problem, Benjamin. There's a man I've become close to, and
I'd like to take the relationship to a deeper level.."
Jadzia's hands sketched pictures in the air as she
talked. Sisko was amused as she began, but his
amusement was swiftly replaced by concern as his old friend continued.
"He's bright, attractive, and much more experienced than I had
expected. That's the problem. His experiences have not been pleasant. At least,
some have been very unpleasant. The more recent ones may not have been bad, but
the early ones can't have been-"
"Dax?" he broke in.
"Hmph?" She finally stopped pacing and looked at him. Such agitation in the
normally composed Trill would usually be funny, but this wasn't a
"usual" situation. She was trying to be detached and objective, but
she was really shaken.
"What is the crux of the problem? You always told me to go to the
heart of the matter." His soft voice calmed her. Making up her mind, she
faced him squarely and took a deep breath.
"He's a rape survivor." Startled brown eyes met pained blue
ones. She nodded once and he gave a slow whistle. "That's not the worst of
it. The abuse took place over a number of years, beginning in his childhood.
And the circumstances are such that he has never sought psychological help to
deal with it."
That really did surprise Sisko. "He's trying
to deal with this all on his own? Why?"
"Circumstances were ... are such that he can't go public with the
abuse. I'm sorry, Benjamin," she raised a hand to forestall his next
question, "the story is his to tell or not. I need your advice on how to
approach him."
"How long have you known him?"
"Several months. We have a strong friendship, but he -- I need to be closer to him."
Sisko fixed Dax with a penetrating look. "Are you in love with
him? Or do you want to mother him?"
"You know me too well, young man." She smiled at him, but her
eyes remained serious. "Comfort is part of it, of course. He has been
through hell. And I want to help him heal. But I do find him very attractive.
I've been holding off having an intimate relationship with him because ...
well, I thought I was more than he could handle." Dax
ignored Sisko's quick indrawn breath. He could hold
his tongue, even if he guessed the truth. Or she never would have brought it up
with him. "As it turns out, I may have all I can do to handle *him*. I
just have to figure out a way to approach him that won't look like pity. He
would turn away from me, if he didn't think I was sincere. Do you have any
suggestions?"
Commander Sisko was far from stupid. He was
also very discrete. Given the recent events at the station, he had a good idea
just who his science officer was targeting. And he wasn't sure he quite
believed it. It was more than a little incredible. But Dax
was so certain. Putting aside his speculations about the man's identity, he
concentrated on trying to help his friend. If anything more came of the
situation, he would hear about it and act accordingly. If not, well, everyone
had something in their life that was too painful for general knowledge. He
leaned back in his chair and looked at Jadzia over steepled fingers.
"How long was he ... abused?"
"Almost ten years." Softly, a world of pain
in her voice. He narrowed his eyes in sympathy.
"And how long has it been since it stopped? How deeply is this
buried?"
"Nearly eleven years. He's been having nightmares recently. I think
he is very deeply scarred by what was done to him, but he is in denial."
"Probably the least painful way to deal with
it. Dax, you may not like
what I have to say."
"I asked, Benjamin." She leaned toward him in silent entreaty.
"This is new for me. Dax wants to wrap him up in
cotton so nothing else will hurt him. Jadzia wants to
take him to bed and keep him there until all the shadows are gone. I'm ...
conflicted."
"Wait." He met her inquiring look steadily. "It took a
long time for the abuse, and he's been hiding it even longer. It will take a
long time to heal from it, if ever. Go slowly. Be patient with him. Convince
him by word and action that you really do care for him, that it is affection,
not pity, that you're offering him. I can't believe I'm having to say this to you, old man. But, be
patient."
Dax sat back in her
chair, studying him. After a moment she smiled at him with a great deal of
sweetness. "Courtship."
"Yes," he smiled back at her. "A good,
old-fashioned courtship."
"Thank you, Benjamin. Talking with you always helps me clarify
things in my mind."
As she rose to leave he added a final comment. "While he is young,
Doctor Bashir is the closest we have to a
psychiatrist on the station. And in medical matters he can be objective and
confidential." It wasn't the look on Dax's face
as much as the complete lack of expression that caused Sisko
to break off. With a sinking feeling, he knew why Dax's
friend wouldn't be going to the station doctor for therapy. Without another
word Dax left the office. Sisko
stared at the closed doors for several long moments. A sad
story but unfortunately not an uncommon one. As a father, the thought of
someone hurting an innocent child in such an awful way enraged him, and he
wondered what kind of family Julian had grown up in. The full truth was hidden
behind Admiral Sanderson's seal. And as long as Julian chose to keep it that
way, there it would remain.
Odo turned away from
the view screen with an impatient shrug. *Just what I need. As if it isn't
enough to try and maintain order on this zoo, now we have bounty hunters.* Reflexively his glance swept over the array of surveillance
screens behind his desk. He didn't know what the Saraian
tracker expected to find on the station. The murderous Romulan
was off on Bajor or smuggled away on some freighter
by now, undoubtedly with the assistance of her erstwhile employer. For a
moment, the fantasy of arresting Quark on an aiding and abetting charge put a
gleam in the Constable's eye, but with a sigh he decided it was unlikely. He'd
had all incoming ships on the tightest security watch. If the singer had come
back to Deep Space Nine then she was a shapeshifter
too. Because if she had returned wearing her own form he
would have had her in a cell by now. The door chime interrupted his
train of thought and he swiveled forward with a curt, "Enter."
The woman striding to a halt in front of his desk was a new experience
for Odo. He had grown used to a variety of different
species in the two years since the Federation had begun operations on the
station. But he'd never before met a Saraian. Her
skin was the softest violet he had ever seen, and the bright peridot eyes boring into his own were a startling contrast.
They were as hard as the gems they resembled. He took in the twin shocks of
ebony hair growing in crests down to her shoulders. Her plain khaki worksuit did nothing to hide the strength in her body, and
her feet in worn jungle boots were planted firmly apart. Her whole demeanor
fairly shouted professionalism. *I could dislike this person very easily* he
thought with some surprise. Odo stiffened to meet the
perceived threat to his authority. He was not prepared for the disarming humor
in her expression when he finished his quick survey.
"My name is Chatir. Thank you for
cooperating with me on this hunt." Odo briskly
shook her extended hand. "I appreciate that you may see my mission here as
an imposition, and I'll cooperate as completely as possible to stay out of your
way and track my prey."
The constable was taken aback at her forthright speech. Well, two could
play this game. "Welcome to Deep Space Nine. I will cooperate to the best
of my ability, but my first priority is the safety and security of the station.
If Aliera comes back here, she will be within my
jurisdiction and I will detain her. My security forces will handle her."
*Stiffrump. Jealous of his
authority, and more rigid than he should be. I wonder if he's even aware
of the pain under the formality? A much more sensitive
being than his crewmates credit. I can use that.* None of her thoughts showed on her face. The empath's quick probe told her how to handle the situation.
She was careful to keep her expression neutral. "I will not hinder your
efforts. My primary concern is to capture the thief assassin. I appreciate your
help." With a crisp movement she handed him a small case. "My
documents, license to carry specified defensive weaponry, warrants for the Romulan, tracker credentials. I will be staying in guest
quarters, comm link on the first page," Odo glanced down to confirm this but Chatir
didn't pause. "I will begin my search tomorrow morning on Bajor, in the environs of the attack yesterday." He
glanced at her sharply. She almost smiled. *Yes, that surprised you. I do have
some sources -- I never go into any job cold.* "She's a dangerous woman,
Mr. Odo. I do my background work."
He caught himself before he snorted. One question he had not yet asked,
and he wasn't quite sure how to phrase it. Good thing he wasn't known for tact.
Besides, he didn't think bluntness would offend this one. "I am unfamiliar
with Saraians. What is the extent of your telepathic
capability?"
"None," she answered readily. "I am purely empathic. So
you don't have to guard your thoughts around me, Mr. Odo.
I couldn't read them if I wanted to."
"Good." He looked hard at his visitor. "That will make it
easier for me to work with you."
She nodded. If he only knew. Emotions were much
easier to utilize than thoughts, and she was an expert. "Mr. Odo, I have the bare outline of the attack at the
monastery, but I need more details in order to track the criminal. Would you
allow me access to those reports?" Odo was
completely unaware of the subtle shift in her voice, as she nudged his love of
justice high enough to overcome any misgivings he had about allowing an
outsider to access his files. Slightly damping his natural caution and
emphasizing his strong sense of right and wrong, she manipulated the constable
into giving her every bit of information she wanted, even the classified
portions ... much more than he realized. *So easy. They never even know what
hit them.* Odo bent to retrieve the security files
and missed her satisfied smile.
*Damn, damn, damn.* The litany of self reproach
kept perfect time with the clatter of Kira's bootheels as she left Ops. Commander Sisko
had been interested in her report, but there wasn't much to say. Even less than
he knew. Vedek Bareil was
doing well, except for a slight residual headache. He was fine. Great. Wonderful. The picnic had
been incredible. Every time she looked at him she wanted to throw herself into
his arms and it was an effort to hold a halfway intelligent conversation. But
she still hadn't been able to do it. *I never thought you were a coward, Kira Nerys.* She still couldn't
tell him about the Orb, or about her past.
Finally arriving at her quarters, she stared at the altar for a very long
time. Her heart, body and soul all knew where they belonged. Now if only her
mind, and her memories, would stop sabotaging her. She tried to compose herself
for meditation, but it was a wasted effort. His face was superimposed on the
darkness behind her eyelids. Eventually she gave up trying to pray. Sinking
into a comfortable position on the floor, eyes fixed on the wormhole beyond the
window, she let her thoughts wander freely to Bareil.
As her muscles gradually relaxed she heard his voice in her ears, "May the
Prophets guide your dreams." She was afraid They
just might.
Chatir practically sniffed
the air outside the busy bar. The Ferengi owner had
been a nasty little brew of anger, lust, desire for revenge and greed. Easy enough to get the recent background on the Romulan
from him. He had burst like an overripe pod, full of indignation,
frustration and information. *Fertile hunting* she grinned as she stepped over
the threshold and into a crush of emotions. With practiced ease she sorted and
screened until she had complete control. Then she headed for the bar.
Looking up from the Tirelian Timebomb he was mixing, Quark's face gleamed as the Saraian came his way. He'd always had a taste for the
exotics. Slapping the drink at a nearly somnolent Morn, he hurried to greet his
new customer. "Hello, hello! Any luck with our, um, dear security chief?
How about a drink? Hey, you wouldn't happen to sing, would you?" Her
incredulous look momentarily halted his stream of words, but he quickly
regrouped. "No, of course not, forget I asked. All settled into your
quarters? Feel the need for some company?"
Chatir nearly laughed
aloud at the transparency of the little bartender. Clear lust mixed with greed.
Not exactly complex. She gave him a stern look and
growled, "Andorian ale." Quark noticeably
wilted, then darted away to fetch her drink. Satisfied that his pretensions
were suitably depressed (at least temporarily) she turned her attention back to
the crowd.
Sisko straightened his
spine and stepped into Quark's bar, fighting back instinctive distaste. His
eyes searched the dimly lit room for Odo. The
constable had asked him to meet him here, because he wanted the commander to
talk to a bounty hunter. The tracker was here chasing after the woman who had
attacked Doctor Bashir. He gave a concerned thought
to the doctor, then concentrated on finding Odo. He had little enough time to spend with Jake as it
was, and now he was going to be late. Again.
"Good. You made it." Odo detached
himself from his observation post next to the dabo
tables and joined the commander. "This shouldn't take long. Chatir is right over here." She was facing them as
they moved across the floor in her direction. With a slight inclination of her
head, she raised her glass to salute the shapeshifter,
then took a sip.
"Seems to like you, Odo," Benjamin
commented with a glimmer of a smile.
"Hmph. As long as I can be useful, I suppose."
"She's beautiful." A sidelong glance at Odo
showed a trace of humor. He seldom got a chance to tease his security chief.
Apparently this wasn't going to be one of those times.
"If you like that type." Increasing his pace, Odo terminated the conversation
by the simple expedient of refusing to talk. Sisko
shrugged and followed in his wake as he cut a path through the crowd toward the
bar.
"Commander Sisko, Chatir.
Chatir, this is Commander Sisko.
Chatir, as I mentioned to you earlier, is tracking the
fugitive that Quark recently employed here as ... an entertainer." An
indignant squawk from behind the bar was silenced by two sets of stern eyes.
Under Odo and Sisko's
combined glares, Quark withdrew to the other end of the bar, muttering about
injustice and injured innocence under his breath. The trio ignored him and
continued their conversation.
"Hello, commander. Constable Odo has been
very helpful. Thank you for the information, Constable. I have been reviewing
it this afternoon."
"Chatir will be going down to Bajor tomorrow to interview the guards and Vedek Bareil at the
monastery."
"Yes, I heard Major Kira making the
arrangements." Turning to the tracker, Sisko
continued. "The victims of the attack included Major Kira,
my second-in-command, and my chief medical officer Doctor Bashir.
Perhaps you would like to talk with them before going to Bajor."
*Interesting. He doesn't want me to talk to them at all. What are you
hiding?* "Thank you, but I must go to Bajor as
soon as possible. If I am unable to locate the fugitive, I will need to speak
with them. But I must hunt while the trail is fresh." *Complex. This one
is hard to read - - too much control, and too many scars. But there is definite
reluctance. Now, about which one?*
"I've often found interviews yield clues, Chatir."
"Yes, Mr. Odo, they do. But I track
somewhat differently than you do. Speed is imperative, while her guard is down.
And I must determine why she chose Bajor-"
*Whew! What was that?* She continued her conversation with the two men on a
surface level, but all of her empathic attention was captured by the tall,
slender Human coming into the bar. He was beautiful, all long clean lines and
warm creamy skin, with huge dark eyes. But it was his emotional state that
completely distracted her. He was an incredibly strong mixture of pain, desire,
exhaustion, caring, sensitivity and darkness -- with flashes of deep empathic
shields broken to pieces and glinting like shattered glass. He was affecting
her like the gravity pull from a black hole on a shuttlecraft. And, blessed
Spirits, he was coming over to join them.
"Doctor. How are you
this evening? Still sore?" Sisko's
voice greeting the newcomer drew her back into the scene.
"Good evening, sir, Odo. I'm fine, thank
you." His eyes met hers and she drew a breath. Incredible.
Every nerve ending went on alert, and she instinctively probed him. To her
complete shock he physically recoiled. She immediately withdrew and watched him
closely.
"Doctor Bashir?" Odo's
sharp question broke the connection between them, and the young man turned to
him. "What's wrong?" Odo's suspicious eyes
flicked back and forth between the doctor and the tracker.
"Nothing, Odo." He had recovered quickly. His now-steady gaze met Chatir's.
"Hello. I'm Doctor Julian Bashir."
She smiled and lightly clasped his outstretched hand. "My name is Chatir."
"Welcome to Deep Space Nine, Chatir. What
brings you all this way? Saraia is not exactly a near
neighbor to Bajor."
"She's a tracker, doctor." Odo's
voice held no trace of warmth. A sudden increase of noise from the vicinity of
the dabo tables distracted him. With a muffled
"Excuse me," Odo hurried away to quell the miniriot that was brewing. Sisko
took the moment to study his chief medical officer for a moment. Bashir appeared to be recovered from the previous day's
adventure, if still a little tired. He still hadn't released Chatir's hand. *Dax might have a
run for her money* he smiled to himself. Meanwhile, he felt like a third wheel,
and Jake was waiting. Neither Bashir nor the Saraian seemed perturbed when he made his excuses, so he
left them to one another.
Julian was barely aware that Sisko had left
them. Chatir's hand was warm and strong in his, but
it was more than that. He could sense her delicately tracing the edges of his
emotions, skirting the outlines of feelings he struggled to contain, skittering
along his nerve endings like trickles of ice water running down the center of
his back. He caught his breath at the gentle, ephemeral touch. Sending out his
own delicate probe, he was unprepared for the depths of her fascination with
him. He knew Saraians were empathic, but the only
other being who had ever touched him this tenderly had been Aliera.
And that had been a long time ago. Battered and tired from his recent
experiences, he was unable to hold himself apart from her soft exploration.
Helplessly he moved closer to her.
The empath gently pulled Julian closer to her,
holding his hand tightly and settling him next to her against the corner of the
bar. *I'd better watch this one. More depth of power here than I'm used to.*
Rational thought fled as the proximity of his body sensitized hers. *What
delightful coolness!* She was dimly aware that they were pressed closely
together, touching from knee to breast, she tucked into his side, her eyes
locked to his. He still clasped her hand in his, and his free arm curved around
her back to rest on the polished surface of the bar. Caught up in the turmoil
of their emotions, she didn't notice the tall female form coming to a stop
directly behind them.
"Hello, Julian." Dax's clear voice
broke the strange tension between them, and Chatir
gave a small start. Bashir went completely still.
Slowly, he drew back from Chatir, dropping her hand
and turning to face the Trill. Her face was very pale and her markings looked
very dark against her temples. She was staring intently at Chatir
and missed the curiously blank look in Julian's eyes.
"Good evening, Jadzia." He seemed
unaware of her intensity, but he instinctively placed himself between the two
women. "This is Chatir. Chatir,
this is Lieutenant Jadzia Dax.
She's our science officer. Jadzia, Chatir is a tracker." The fact seemed to finally
penetrate his exhaustion. "Tracking Aliera, I
presume."
"How do you do." Dax examined the Saraian
carefully. She felt at a disadvantage, dealing with an empath,
but she also feared that Chatir would be a threat to
Julian. That she would *not* allow. Controlling her emotions as completely as
possible, she moved closer to him and took his arm. Looking as proprietary as
possible, she smiled at Chatir and hugged Julian's
arm tightly.
Bashir felt like a bone
caught between two bloodhounds. Seeking to settle the situation down, and wondering what had gotten into Jadzia
but too tired to probe and find out, he put on his most charming smile. "Chatir will be going down to Bajor
tomorrow." The empath looked at him sharply and
he quickly covered the slip. *Can't let her know I can hear her thoughts.* " I overheard Odo and
Commander Sisko talking about it earlier. Do you have
any leads?"
"Not yet. This has been an interesting evening, but I must excuse
myself. I have to prepare for the hunt tomorrow."
Dax felt the
involuntary flinch in Julian's body. Protectively she drew Chatir's
attention away from him. "I wish you luck. Be careful, though. She can be
very dangerous."
"Yes, so I've learned from her files." *Blank, but not
completely. She's had practice putting up walls.* She was reading a strong
interaction between the Trill and the Human. *Close, but not yet lovers. A lot
of shadows playing there.* With a mental shrug, she
smiled politely at both of them. "I do have to be going, however. There is
much to prepare. It was a pleasure meeting you." The words were addressed
to both, but her eyes lingered on Julian. She nodded her good-byes and headed
for the door. She had gathered a lot of information tonight. Now she had to
sort through it and get ready for the next day's hunting.
Julian watched the tracker leave. Dax watched
Julian. Neither was happy with the situation. Quietly she dropped his arm and
move slightly away from him.
"Dax! Hello!" Quark's irritatingly cheerful voice fell into the small
pool of silence between them. With an effort, Julian focused on the bartender.
Deciding he really wasn't up to dealing with the pleasantries company demanded
after all, he smiled vaguely in the direction of the bar and spoke to his
friend.
"Would you like to go for a walk, Jadzia?"
His eyes narrowed against the glare from the tables. "My headache is not
agreeing with the din in here, I'm afraid."
She returned his smile and nodded agreement. "The promenade should
be quiet by now." With a quick smile for Quark, she took Julian's hand and
wove a path to the door. Quark looked after the pair with a trace of envy.
*Even if she does treat him like her favorite puppy, at least she spends time
with him. What a waste of womanhood.* His ears twitched once before his
attention was caught by a patron at the end of the bar. Putting aside useless
speculation in favor of potential profits, he returned to his business.
Julian and Jadzia walked slowly along the upper
deck of the promenade, each immersed in their own thoughts. The usual daily
bustle had faded, and the stark beauty of the stars outside the oval windows
calmed them both. Julian was drawn to a stop by a particularly spectacular
sight. A ship was debarking and the wormhole flared into existence, glowing
purple, white and amber, swirling in an incredible display of power and sheer
size.
"It's immense. No wonder the Bajorans
consider it holy." His hushed voice perfectly complimented the atmosphere
between them. Without taking his eyes from the vision before him, he shivered
and wrapped his arms around himself. "It always makes me feel so ...
insignificant. It's quite incredible to watch."
She moved behind him, close enough for him to feel her presence at his
shoulder. *Let me hold you * whispered in his mind. He half expected the
familiar panic at her proximity and his vulnerability, but it was muted this
time. He relaxed fractionally. As the wormhole closed behind the freighter and
disappeared from sight, he turned to look at her. No signs of her thoughts
showed on her composed face, but her eyes were warm on his. Smiling wistfully,
he gave her a quick hug, dropping the embrace before she could return it.
Ignoring her surprised look, he started toward the habitat ring. Keeping one
hand gently at the small of her back, he guided her toward the lift.
"This has really helped, Jadzia. I always
relax in your company."
"Well, good." *I think. Relaxation
wasn't quite the effect I was hoping for.* "Maybe you can get some rest
tonight."
He caught the wisp of chagrin in her response and involuntarily smiled at
her underlying frustration. *This is a bit of a turnaround!* Covering his grin
with a cheerful, "Oh, I've no doubt I will," he escorted her to her
door.
*Ever the gentleman. What happened to all that unrequited ardor of just a
few days ago?* echoed in his mind. *If you only knew, Jadzia
love. It's still there, it's just been pounded so much lately I couldn't do
anything even if I had the energy to want it.*
At her door she turned to him. "Would you like to come in for a
drink?"
"Normally I would love to, Jadzia."
He couldn't believe the irony. Finally getting the invitation he'd been
pursuing for nearly two years, and he was too exhausted to take her up on it.
*Bad timing!* "I'm afraid I'd fall asleep on your sofa. May I have a rain
check?"
"Normally I would love to, Jadzia."
He couldn't believe the irony. Finally getting the invitation he'd been
pursuing for nearly two years, and he was too exhausted to take her up on it.
*Bad timing!* "I'm afraid I'd fall asleep on your sofa. May I have a rain
check?"
"Definitely." Intent on courtship, and trying hard not to trigger any unpleasant
memories, she slowly reached out to him. Lightly balancing one hand on his
shoulder, taking care not to touch him anywhere else, she gently pressed her
lips to his. What was intended to be a quick good-night kiss startled both of
them with its intensity. Bashir stood completely
still, all of his attention focused on their mouths, his fists clenched at his
sides. Trying desperately to keep a tight rein on his emotions and
concentrating fiercely on not getting pulled under by the force of hers, he was
dimly aware of a muffled whimper as his tongue slid over hers and the kiss
deepened.
Slightly dazed by the force of their kiss and not quite believing she had
made that sound, Jadzia drew back slowly. *Patience. Slowly. Patience.* she chanted to herself like a mantra.
Pulling back to look into Julian's face, she was surprised to see that his eyes
were open. They mesmerized her, golden brown like molten bronze in the shadows
of the corridor. She dropped her hand from his shoulder and tried to gather her
thoughts.
"Be careful of Chatir, Julian. She's an empath, and a professional bounty hunter. If she makes the
connection between you and Aliera ..."
He nodded in reply. With a soft "good night," she slipped into
her quarters. He stared at the closed doors for a long moment, lips tingling
from the intensity of her kiss. Finally shaking his head to clear it, he turned
to go to his own rooms.
*What on Earth did she mean about courtship?* Puzzling over her changing
moods and the struggle between her thoughts and actions, he slowly wandered
down the corridor.
Surveying the landscape with a trained eye, Chatir
was momentarily distracted by the signs of destruction marring an otherwise
beautiful landscape. Graceful arcs swept along the tops of buildings, and small
cultivated plots showed isolated patched of green here and there. The
countryside surrounding the monastery showed signs of drought and harsh management,
barely beginning to recover from the depredations of the occupation. But this
was not her concern. Her attention was fixed on the swamplands to the east of
the main buildings. According to the Vedek, the Romulan had last been seen heading in that direction. And
swamps were difficult for tracking. Especially when tracking such canny prey.
Eyes still fixed on the distant shadows, she
cast her thoughts back to the recent interview. The Bajoran
had been very civil, and quite informative, but rather difficult to read. He
had obviously sustained some psychic damage in the attack, and probing it had
helped her gauge the depth of strength of her opponent. She had been impressed.
Both at the controlled ferocity of the psi
bolt and his unconsciously adept defense. The Vedek
had a high degree of psychic ability himself, including very tough shields born
of brutal psychological torture. She wondered if he was aware of it, and
decided he wasn't. She also wondered for a moment about the Cardassian
camps that had so thoroughly honed those shields, then
dismissed him as unimportant. She had gotten all the information he was able to
provide. Now it was time for the hunt.
The tickle under her left ear awoke her. Controlling her reaction, Ali
slowly raised her left hand to the source of the tickle, focusing her mind as
she moved. No coherent thoughts met her probe, and her hand closed gently
around the body of the insect to pull it away from her skin. It was almost
translucent in the daylight, blue black shiny body dwarfed by a handspan of delicate veined wings. Sleep dulled green eyes
met inquisitive onyx for a moment, then she laughed
and allowed the creature to flutter away. A good sign -- the
Spirits of Air awakening her by special messenger.
Stretching carefully, she loosened cramped muscles and winced as blood
began to flow back into her feet and hands. She quickly took an internal
inventory and was pleased to feel much less stiffness and pain than the previous
day. It was a good thing, too, because stiff or not she had to get further into
the swamps to hide. She wasn't through with Ishmir
... damnit, Julian ... yet, and she had to come up
with some strategy to get him back down to Bajor.
That irritating shapeshifter up on the station would
no doubt be watching all the ships, and he'd have his security forces on alert.
If only she had taken him out the first time, outside his quarters. It was
unlike her to fail. Of course, contrary to her rather lurid reputation, it was
unlike her to deliberately attempt to kill someone. Selective bone breaking and
defensive death dealing aside, she was a much better thief than killer. And
she'd never tried to kill someone she loved before.
The thought made her stumble. *Love? How could I love him? I don't even
believe in love. And it certainly wouldn't be for him, even if I did, deserting
me like some street rat!* A bare wisp of concentrated thought broke into her
preoccupation and reminded her that this was neither the time nor the place for
emotional inner debates. Dropping into a crouch, she eliminated all emotional
undertones from her thoughts and concentrated on listening. As
hard and as quietly as she could.
*Here* the thought was faint with distance and had an alien intonation.
*Residue.* With effort, Ali traced the accent. Vaguely
familiar, but it had been a long time. *Outbuildings. Hidden.* Holy Spirits of
Soil and Fire, it was that bloody Saraian. How had
she tracked her here so quickly? Firmly damping down any signs of panic, Aliera dropped into a densely covered gully behind a small
stand of trees. The light was murky at best, and dangling vines falling over
intertwined branches covered her hiding place well. Taking a deep, silent
breath, Aliera called upon her reserves of strength
and sank into a rigidly controlled deep meditative trance. All facets of her
identity merged and sank into a calm pool, far within her mind. Her breathing
became slow and shallow, her pulse dropped. Not a ripple of emotion marred the
surface of the pool.
*Infernal spirits! For an instant there I had something!* Chatir's anger momentarily overwhelmed her hunting
instincts. Calming herself, she cast out in all directions, trying to determine
if the whispers of fear she had felt had been real or a reflection of her own
anticipation. Besides the considerable sums she would receive from the various
governments that had rewards out on the Romulan,
there was the satisfaction of taking down a worthy prey. The hunt,
and the kill at hunt's end, were her real payoff. Chatir
knew herself very well. And for one of her kind, sanctioned death was a reward
she craved. The sensation was incomparable.
Unable to find a trace of her prey, she withdrew toward the monastery.
She would have to wait for another day for the kill, but that was not
unexpected. The Romulan was clever. The delay only
made the anticipation sweeter and the kill more satisfactory. After the
successful conclusion to the hunt, she would return the body to Earth and send
proof of death to the other governments holding warrants for the criminal. For
now, she would take the constable's advice and interview the Bajoran woman and the Human male who had been attacked. She
might be able to read something from them that could be useful. And with the male,
it might even be pleasurable. *Those broken shields intrigue me.*
From deep within her pool of calm, Aliera felt
the threatening presence grow dim. She waited long moments to ensure that the
threat had truly passed, then allowed herself to surface slowly. Her breath
regulated itself back to a normal rate, and she became aware of her
surroundings - - the quiet of the swamp, muffled in moss, the patch of wet
under her right calf, the twig digging into her back between her shoulder
blades. Thinking hard, she knew she had very little time. The bounty hunter was
out to kill her, and she could use Julian to do it. The thought of her old stablemate in the hands of a psychotic tracker made Ali
feel slightly sick. *Better to bring it all to an end, here. Now.
If anyone is going to deal with Julian it will be me. Not her.* Burrowing back
into a shadowy overhand of the gully, she began to plan her strategy. *First to
put out a little bait.* Concentrating fiercely, she reached out to her old
lover, careful to focus her power so that no overlap would alert the bounty
hunter. She slipped into their connection with an ease she hadn't expected.
Unwilling to face the reason for that ease, she concentrated on the connection.
The liquid notes from the tenor saxophone wrapped themselves around
Julian and he began to relax for the first time in days. "Serenity."
Beautiful song. Interesting concept.
He hadn't enjoyed much serenity lately. Closing his eyes, he gave himself up to
the comfort of the music.
Visions formed in the darkness behind his eyelids. Aliera, with emerald eyes brimming
with laughter, holding her hands out to him, coaxing him into some game or
another. "You are too serious, Healer! Smile. Time
enough to think when you're old and dead. Move now,
or fat butt will catch up with us!" A smile curved his lips. Not all of
his memories were horrible, thanks to his Warrior. She had saved his sanity so
many times. He felt her hand take his, fingers warm and strong, dry from the
desert air. Laughing, he followed her lead, into the maze of crumbling
buildings behind the marketplace. He adored her, his friend, his protector,
older than he by only a few months but so much stronger. She didn't feel their
feelings, wasn't crippled by their pain and anger. She could protect them both.
Besides, she was the loveliest thing he had ever seen, even when they were just
children.
The music swelled over him and he remembered the beginning, when she
watched over him after his mother had died and the tribe had abandoned him. Just another mouth to feed and not enough food or water to stretch.
He'd had no one to turn to, frightened, alone. She kept the others away from
him until he was able to hold them off himself, until he had earned their
respect by healing their hurts, simple healing but enough for them. More than
they had before he came. She had even deflected their owner's painful attention
whenever she could. But they hadn't made love, not for years. Sex was something
you did to earn your keep and avoid beatings, a tradeoff for food and a degree
of safety. Not what you did with a friend, she meant more to him than that. Until his sixteenth year. Seven years on the streets and he
hadn't known what lovemaking was. Until Aliera
showed him.
She felt so real to him there in the darkness. Gradually, he became aware
of the wetness on his cheeks, and at the same time he realized that her
presence wasn't just a memory. Their link was open. *Aliera?*
*I had forgotten that in all the anger, Ishmir.
Julian. I'm surprised you remembered.*
His body stiffened, wariness replacing relaxation. *Thought you'd left.*
*Don't think, baby. Outside the sickroom, it's not your strength.* A
suggestion of laughter in the thought. He smiled in response.
*Still going to kill me?* Sadness laced the question and his smile faded.
*Give me a reason not to.*
*How?* His thoughts turned to Chatir.
*Exactly. Think about it.* With that, she severed the connection
. Julian sank deeper into his seat and wondered what she expected him to
do. And what her reaction would be when he did it.
"She's practically sniffing the ground."
Quark didn't quite believe what he'd heard. He looked at the lovely Trill
gracing his bar with her presence and shook his head slightly. Dax noticed his attention and favored him with a blinding
smile. Completely nonplused, Quark grinned shakily back and drifted over to the
side of the bar to see if there was anything, anything at all, that he could do
for her. Preening slightly, he opened his mouth to dazzle her with his wit.
Then he noticed that the smile had turned to a scowl, and it was aimed directly
at Chatir coming through the door. Remembering the
earlier scene with the doctor, and deciding that he really didn't want to end
up in the middle of a cat fight (no matter how civilized), he swiveled midstep and made a determinedly unconcerned swipe at the
bar with his cleaning cloth.
Superficially, Jadzia was aware of and amused
by the little Ferengi's actions. But most of her
attention was on the bounty hunter. Masking her instinctive distaste as well as
she could, she made eye contact with Chatir.
Inclining her head, she indicated the vacant stool beside her. After a moment's
hesitation, Chatir wove through the crowd. Cold peridot eyes queried bland blue ones, and the game began.
Once again, Cardassian technology stymied Bajoran determination. Cursing under her breath, Kira pounded the flat of her hand against the recalcitrant replicator. It was late, she was hungry, and the replimats didn't have quite what she was looking for. That
only left Quark's. She stood, indecisive for a moment, until her stomach gave a
pronounced gurgle. Making a mental note to ask the chief to come take a look at
the temperamental replicator in the morning, she
sighed and headed off to the promenade.
The bar was quiet this time of night. She automatically scanned the
interior, then stepped over the threshold. Quark
looked up from behind the bar, his look of anticipation quickly replaced by
thinly-masked apprehension. Ignoring him -- to his relief -- she spotted Dax and went over to join her. From the look on her friend's
face, she needed to talk to someone. Badly.
"This seat taken?" Kira's question cut through Jadzia's preoccupation. Seeing who was standing across from
her, she quickly nodded toward the stool. Staring fixedly at Kira, she nibbled on her lower lip and didn't say anything.
Finally, Kira couldn't stand it any longer.
"Dax, you're going to chew your lip
off."
"Hmph." She stopped nibbling long enough to snort, then resumed. She was really
beginning to worry Kira by this point.
"Okay. Spill it. Something happened. What was it?"
"Maybe it did. Maybe not yet. Maybe it's
going to." Dax shifted uneasily in her seat then
leaned forward to get closer to her. "Kira ...
I'm worried ... about someone."
*Pulling teeth would be easier.* "Who?"
"Well, it's just ... I can't tell you the whole story."
Kira looked at Dax in disbelief. "You don't trust me?"
"No! No, it's not that. It's just that it's not my story to tell.
But I need help. I can't do this on my own, and that woman scares me. There's
something cold about her, really cold. And I'm afraid of what she can do. Not
to me, but to Julian-" Dax's lips clamped shut.
*Oh, hell* was clearly written on her face.
Kira took a deep breath.
Dinner could wait. This sounded serious. "I should know what's going on, Dax. That Romulan came after me,
and Vedek Bareil, as well
as Bashir. If she's back-"
"No," Jadzia broke in. "It's not
Aliera. Not directly. There's a bounty hunter on the
station."
"I know. I made arrangements for her to visit the monastery
today."
"She's been questioning me about Julian."
"Why?" Kira unconsciously dropped her
voice to match the Trill's near whisper.
"I ... can't give you the details. I don't have all of them
myself." Her face pleaded with Kira to
understand. "But if she ties Julian to Aliera,
she could make things really terrible for him."
"How terrible?" Kira had an idea, but she needed some
parameters to gauge the threat.
"She could destroy his reputation, get him discharged from Star
Fleet, and take him back to Earth on a murder charge."
Kira had the vague
knowledge that her mouth was hanging open. *Holy Prophets. Still waters
indeed.* Gradually she realized that Jadzia was still waiting for a response. Flexing her jaw,
she managed to close her lips, but her mind was completely blank.
"We can't let that happen, Kira."
*No, I guess not. Murder?* Gathering her thoughts, she blurted out the
first thing that came to mind. "But he's a doctor!"
Dax shook her head
angrily and Kira noticed the glimmer of tears in her
eyes. *She cares more about him than she's admitting.* Kira
reached out and covered Dax's right hand with her
own. Squeezing gently, she gave comfort the only way she could. Taking a deep,
steadying breath, Dax straightened her shoulders.
Turning her hand under Kira's, she returned the
pressure and smiled faintly.
"I need your courage, my friend. We have a doctor to protect."
Smiling back at her, Kira replied, "So,
tell me what we're up against."
For once, Julian was thankful for an inadequate infirmary. Tallying
tissue samples manually ate up the hours. There had been no emergencies today,
only routine exams. The hours were dragging, and it was just past lunch. His
"conversation" with Aliera weighed heavily
on his mind. He wanted to help her, but she was a threat to him, as well as
those around him. And if this tracker made the same connections that Jadzia had, he was in very deep trouble. A shiver of
sensation skittered down his backbone and he looked up into watchful light eyes
set in an expressionless face. Faltering slightly over the samples, he gathered
them and placed them carefully in a stasis field. Reactions under control, he
turned to face his visitor.
"Hello, Chatir. You move very quietly."
Her answering smile felt somehow feral.
"Good afternoon, Doctor Bashir. Silence is
an asset in a hunter." She was very close to him. Saraian
basal body temperature was several degrees higher than Human, and he felt as
though she were searing him. His thoughts fragmented and he was distracted by
her skin, her heat, her eyes. Vaguely he heard her
voice.
"I did a little research, Doctor. Major Kira's
life is an open book. A surprising one in some aspects, but still relatively
open to one who knows where and how to look. I couldn't find anything
connecting her to the Romulan." The cadence of
her voice caught him up and he found himself swaying toward her. "But I
could not access the background information on you, Doctor. Why is that?"
As he opened her mouth to tell her, he heard it. *-easy.
No defenses at all. Shields broken to-* During their
conversation they had moved together until they were chest to chest, and he
took advantage of their proximity. Dipping his face into the curve of her neck,
he hid his expression. *I can't believe how close she came!* Recognizing both
the purpose behind her questions and her manipulation of his emotions, he
distracted her the only way he could.
Biting the side of her neck lightly, then laving
it with his tongue, he felt her slight jump and heard her thoughts scatter. Now
it was his turn to manipulate her, and he was an expert, even if it had been a
long time since he had used these particular skills. He'd managed to survive so
long on the streets by reading another's desires and meeting them before they
even recognized what they were. After he had escaped, he had vowed that he
would never debase himself that way again. But he had found himself doing many
things lately that he had sworn he'd never have to do again.
*Spirits defend me, this one's powerful.* The
thought pierced through his mind, and he closed the empathic loop a bit. Didn't
want her to get too suspicious -- had to keep her thinking this was all raw
talent, and that it was unconscious. He had pulled her up tightly against him,
one hand thrust through the crest of fur along the side of her skull, one hand
drawing intricate patterns from her breast to her hip. Her arms were curved
around him, hands curling up under his arms to dig her nails into the bunched
muscles of his shoulders. Somehow one leg had curled up around his thighs and
she was holding him in the cradle of her hips. Neither heard the first cough
from the doorway. Or the second.
"Pardon me, Doctor Bashir." Nurse T'Laak's tone was frigid enough to douse their passion. Chatir drew back from him with an utterly dazed look on her
face. Julian straightened from the counter and gently put her aside.
"Yes, T'Laak?" His voice was surprisingly steady, considering that he felt like he'd just
been scorched. His hands still shook. *I tasted something familiar in there. And very unpleasant.*
"Your next appointment is here, Doctor."
"Thank you, Nurse." With a brusque nod, she turned on her heel
and went into the adjoining room. Julian turned back to Chatir.
"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I do apologize."
He felt her swift probe, but concentrated on projecting a mixture of
contrition and rampant lust. He managed to conceal his distaste, for both of
them, lying under the surface. She was shaken enough to let him get away with
it.
"No, please, don't apologize. But let's continue our ...
conversation later." *Very intense!* "At my quarters? Tonight?"
"2000 hours? *That will give me time to try to figure out what to do
next.* His expression didn't show the level of panic he was beginning to feel.
"Perfect." With one final glance, she strode from the room.
Julian took a deep breath to steady himself, then turned into the opposite
examination room. As he did, the unmistakable crispness of T'Laak
greeted him. *This is not typical behavior for Doctor Bashir.
I must keep a closer watch on him. He is too talented a physician to squander
his energy on such worthless pursuits.* His lips twitched and he wondered if
she was even aware of the strong disapproval lacing her thoughts. With a
disciplined effort, he closed his telempathic
channels and concentrated on his patient. *Enough eavesdropping. I've work to
do now. I'll worry about Chatir -- and Aliera -- later.*
1800. End of the duty day, and he was no closer to a solution than he had
been five hours earlier. His thoughts were chasing themselves in circles, and
he was getting very nervous. At the sound of T'Laak
greeting someone, he finished putting away his data pads and joined her in the
main exam room. His weariness lifted when he saw her companion.
"Hello, Jadzia!" T'Laak
nodded good-bye to both officers, and Dax turned to
him.
"You look like you could use a break, Julian."
*You have no idea ...* "I was thinking of dinner."
"Care for some company?" Friendly. Casual. Completely unconvincing.
Julian hooked his hands together over his stomach and leaned against an exam
table. She met his eyes with determined innocence, and he decided to take her
offer at face value. "As long as it's not Klingon. I'm getting a little tired of chasing my
food."
They shared a quick grin. Linking her arm through his, she pulled him up
with a chuckle. "Oh, all right. Let's go for the same old thing. Quark's?"
His laugh eased both of them a little. He felt the tension release
between his shoulder blades and he hugged her arm against his side. "Just
don't tell *him* you think that way! Who knows what side show he'd bring in to
spice it up for you!" Giggling like a pair of children they headed for the
promenade.
They shared a companionable silence until they arrived at the bar. Dax was aware of Julian's growing preoccupation, and had a
strong feeling it was linked to her own dark thoughts. *Chatir.
Trouble.* She caught his startled glance.
"What?" *Did I say it out loud?*
"Nothing. I thought
you said something."
She looked closely at him as Rom seated them and hovered for their
orders. They settled for curried vegetables and thick, creamy soup, and Rom
scurried away. Dax raised her glass of synthale and looked at Julian over the rim.
"You look like you're getting a little more sleep. Have you been
feeling more secure since Aliera's gone?"
"I have been sleeping better. But," he paused to sip his drink
and gather his courage, "she's not gone."
Dax choked on her
drink. He leaned forward to help but she waved him away. Clearing her throat,
she glared at him. "Why didn't you tell me? Where is she? Are you in
danger from her too?"
"I didn't know for certain until early this morning, I'm not sure
quite where on Bajor she is, and what do you mean,
her, too?"
The sound of Rom hopping from one foot to the other and whining slightly
interrupted their budding argument. Both officers turned to glare at him and he
nearly dropped their dinners. Hastily plunking the plates in front of them, he
bobbed his head several times and backed away as quickly as possible. Silence
blanketed the table and they both concentrated on their soup. Finally, Dax sighed. Julian risked a look at her, to find her
staring at him. Her head was propped on one fist and her eyes were sad. *This
isn't how it's supposed to be* whispered through his mind and he made a
determined effort to block out her thoughts. It was unfair to eavesdrop when she
didn't know he could.
"I'm sorry, Jadzia. I didn't mean to snap
at you. I guess it's getting to me a bit, but there's no excuse for taking it
out on my friends." Her sweet smile reassured him and he continued.
"But who else were you referring to as a threat?"
She straightened and looked intently at him. "I warned you about Chatir." She was surprised to see a warm blush spread
along his cheekbones. "She cornered me in Quark's last night and was
trying to get information about you." Momentary embarrassment fading, he
leaned toward her. Food forgotten, she filled him in on the verbal dance she
and Chatir had engaged in, and finished with a final
warning. "She senses something, Julian , about
you and Aliera. And I'm afraid of what she's going to
find out."
He absently pushed a carrot slice around his plate. After a moment he
looked up at her. "She came to the infirmary too." Dax tensed. "Tried to question
me."
"If she finds out that you were Ishmir
..."
"She just can't."
"Are you going to see her again?" Her voice was heavy with
worry.
"Yes. Tonight. In about
an hour."
Dax stifled a curse.
"You can't."
"I have to." His face was set and grave, eyes more serious than
she had ever seen.
"Julian! She's an empath. And she's
dangerous."
*Much more than you realize, love.* "If I don't go then she'll be
even more suspicious, and even more dangerous."
Silently they finished their meal. Then Jadzia
reached over and intertwined her fingers with his. "Please be
careful." Her expression was solemn but her eyes were alive with concern.
He gave her a singularly beautiful smile.
"I will."
Caught up in each other, neither Julian nor Jadzia
had noticed a small brown being in the shadows of the adjoining table. He was
well suited for his role in life, and his talents were blending and listening.
Mole he looked and mole he was. The tracker would be very interested in this
information, and she paid well for loyal servants. He thought for a brief
moment about what she did to disloyal servants, and shuddered. Carefully
keeping out of sight of the departing Star Fleet officers, he slipped away to
make his report.
Bashir smoothed damp palms
over his simple amber silk shirt. He checked his appearance once more, out of
nerves. Black pleated trousers, half boots shined, short curls relatively
smooth, jaw freshly shaved. His throat felt dry and the pit of his stomach was
twisted into a tight knot, but he had to see where this would take him. It had
been a long time since he had played these games, and the stakes had never been
higher. Forcing his hand to remain steady, he reached out and touched the door
chime.
The doors slid open on an inviting "Come in." As he stepped
inside, his eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, and he ran his gaze over a
straightforward seduction scene. Soft music, a Vulcan lyre and wind instruments
he didn't recognize, gave a subtle charge to the atmosphere. Candles sent
shadows playing on the walls, and the spicy tang of an exotic fragrance tempted
him further into her quarters. Finally he saw her, leaning against the far
wall. A filmy shift in the same gem-like green as her eyes accentuated her
curves, and her crests flowed back and over the tops of her arms. Her eyes were
huge and the smile on her lips was intimate.
He was aware of the doors closing behind him, and for a moment he
panicked, feeling trapped. Something flared behind her eyes in response to his
reaction, and her smile widened. He was reminded of a predator stalking her
prey. Then the fleeting image vanished and she was once again Chatir, holding a drink out to him, inviting him to have a
seat.
Tentatively he probed her thoughts, being extremely careful not to alert
her to his presence. In order to do it he had to relax the tight control he
held over his emotions, leaving him vulnerable. He hated to leave himself open
to her manipulation, but it was his best opportunity to discover her plans for
him. *Pleasure, then business.* That was clear enough.
At least he knew she had an underlying purpose for this meeting. He didn't
flatter himself that she was only interested in bedding him.
"Do you like your drink?"
"It's different. Very smooth."
"Earth brandy. Almost a hundred standard years old."
"It goes straight to my head."
"I'm glad to hear that."
Neither paid attention to the trivial conversation their tongues made.
The real communication was purely emotional. She was drawn to the swirling mass
of feelings he could no longer control, unaware of the reason behind the sudden
freedom. The remnants of his empathic shields caused odd blank spots in her
readings, making her unsure of her perceptions, like walking on sand at the
water's edge when the tide was coming in. He was unprepared for her strength,
caught up in her emotions, his minimal controls swept away, a swimmer fighting
the tide and yet fascinated by it. Lust, anger, frustration,
fear and desire meshed and parted, purple and pink, scarlet and royal blue.
Flashes of thought wove themselves through the fabric of her emotions,
confusing and overwhelming him. Underlying it was a darker shadow, hinted at
but not yet touched, a familiar bitter taste on his
tongue.
Brandy forgotten, music blending into the background, she reached for him
and pulled him down onto the couch. He slid her body over his, moved his hands
on her skin through the thin fabric. She returned the favor, caressing his
chest, feeling the warm pliability of muscle under the cool silk. Her lips came
down to cover his, parting his lips, tongue sweeping over his lower lip,
dueling with his. He raised her head to meet her mouth, deepening the kiss, and
his fingers found the fastenings on her shift. As he was baring her body to his
touch, she was burrowing her hands under his shirt, peeling it away and
delighting in the smooth skin and crisp curls she discovered. Her lips left his
to trace the long deep dimples bracketing his mouth, the line of his jaw, his
long slender neck. He arched under her hands as she continued undressing him,
exploring the line of his ribs, the thrust of his hipbone, the
length of his legs. He rid her of the last of her clothing and finally they
pressed their full lengths against one another.
Weaving over and through the physical pleasure they indulged in was the
power of their mingled emotions. Each touch sent a fresh surge of color and
flavor through them, enhancing every movement. They could taste the intensity
of the emotions breaking over them in waves. When they finally joined the waves
became a whirlpool, and the reason for the familiar taste became apparent to
Julian. She was tracing the network of scars across his back with her nails,
running them over the skin not quite hard enough to draw blood. but in her mind the picture was different -- there the blood
flowed. The pain excited her, pulled her faster into the swirl. She built on
the pain, forcing it back into their shared connection, until reality and
mental image blurred. She fed on the panic she was creating in him. Unable to control
or overcome the combined force of their emotions, he surrendered to them. He
felt her tighten around him, heard her wordless cries, and the world exploded
into a myriad of colors and textures, centered in them.
When he came to himself the link was broken. He felt faintly sick. She
lay on top of him, one elbow propped on his chest, peering intently down at
him. The satisfied smile on her face should have warned him. Unfortunately it
didn't.
"Incredible. I can see why you were such a popular commodity, Ishmir."
Shock drove through his body and he instantly stiffened. Unable to think
of a single reply, he merely stared at her.
"You don't need to talk. Just listen. I want the Romulan.
You know where she is." When he instinctively shook his head, she thrust
her fingers through his hair and forced him to be still. Holding his eyes with
hers, she continued. "You have a link. I will use it to find her."
"What makes you think I'd help you?" His voice sounded rusty,
unused. "Why should I betray her?"
"Besides the fact that she has tried to kill
you and your friends?" She shifted until
her face was centimeters from his, her breath caressing his lips. "If you
do not help me, *Ishmir*, I will take you back to
Earth instead. And you can stand trial for murder there." She lightly
brushed her lips with his, then nipped his lip
sharply. The coppery taste of blood met the tip of his tongue, and he flinched.
She drew back to look into his eyes again. "But before I do, I'll make
sure that this entire station knows *exactly* why you left Earth."
He stared at her, eyes huge, reflecting the gold from the flickering
candles. She reached down one more time to kiss him deeply, licking the blood
from his lip, then loosening her grip on his hair.
Lifting herself off his body, she ran an appreciative hand down his torso.
*Beautiful and useful. What more could-* He cut off her thought. He didn't want
to hear any more, didn't want to think any more. Rolling away from her, he
gathered his scattered clothing and began to dress with short, jerky movements.
She watched him in silent amusement.
When he was covered again, he headed for the door. A few paces from it
her voice stopped him.
"We'll take my shuttle down to the planet tomorrow."
He looked at her over his shoulder. "How do you know she's on Bajor?"
"I felt her there. So did you." She shrugged off his glare.
"I only felt residual traces here. She's on Bajor.
And we are going to find her."
He turned back to leave. "0500 hours, doctor. Or by 0600, Ishmir will be known station-wide. And you will be in one
of Mr. Odo's cells."
He squared his shoulders and continued out the door. Her words haunted
him, and the images they conjured up were among his worst nightmares. All very
well for Kira to talk about the strength of friendship.
but this was beyond something that friendship could
forgive. By the time he reached his quarters his entire body was shaking with
reaction. Sinking onto his bed, he rolled over onto his back and stared up at
the ceiling. And the waking nightmare began again.
Hot blue sky replaced the gray metal in front of his eyes. The bed cover
under his body became gritty sand, shifting under him as the empath bent him back. The empath
wasn't just holding him down, forcing himself over him, pinning him to the ground.
This time he spoke with Chatir's voice, and called
him by name. *Ishmir.* No way to escape, no strength
to fight. This time there was no knife. And the cycle was the same, painpleasurepressure, fed back into him, forced to a fever
pitch, taking him under, pulling him under. As he screamed.
losing the battle, losing himself, bright peridot eyes watched him and laughed.
He sat bolt upright, jaw clenched tight to keep back the screams. His
fists clenched the bedcovers tightly. His eyes were wide, staring, and his
cheeks were wet with tears. Finally he recognized that dark familiar taste. Chatir was as sadistic as the bastard he'd had to kill. She
thrived on the pain, lived for it, pleasured herself
with it. And if he led her to Aliera, she would kill
her. If Dax found out and tried to intervene, Chatir would hurt her too, just for the enjoyment of it.
Desperately, he knew he couldn't involve Jadzia more
than she already was. He'd go with Chatir the next
morning, alone, and do the best he could. Whatever happened, Dax would be safe.
He didn't know about Kira.
It had been another rough night. After tossing and turning for several
hours, Kira gave up the attempt at sleep and moved to
her computer station. *Might as well get some work done.* The
figures on the manifest scrolled past in the semi-dark of her quarters. Odo hadn't come up with anything in his search for the
fugitive, but it couldn't hurt to double-check the arrivals and departures. One
never knew if Quark might decide to smuggle his ex-employee out of the system. For the right price, of course.
A recent change caught her attention and she scrolled back to read it
again. *That bounty hunter filed a new departure time to Bajor,
four hours earlier than originally planned.* Her eyes
narrowed speculatively. *0500. Early for a social call.
Must not be planning on going to the monastery.* On a
hunch, she called up the duty roster for the infirmary. Doctor Bashir was scheduled for an odd night shift, coming in at midafternoon. Checking further, she found that the roster
had just been changed, within the hour. She glanced up at the chronometer on
the wall -- 0425.
*Probably not worth waking Dax up for this ...
could just be a coincidence.* She didn't believe in those, though, so she
quickly dressed. Automatically retrieving her hand weapon, she quietly left her
quarters and made her way to the docking bay.
Turning the corner, all senses alert, she caught sight of Chatir. The doctor was with her and he looked like hell. He
was watching Chatir with a loathing that seemed to
amuse her, but he was following her into her ship. Moving silently and quietly,
she slipped into the airlock behind them. Tension was rolling off Bashir in waves, and his companion was concentrating
completely on him. As they moved to the front of the ship, Kira
crept into the small cargo hold at the rear and settled down for the ride.
The three hour trip was tense and silent. Chatir
concentrated on her flight instruments and focused her energy on the hunt to
come. Julian's thoughts chased themselves in endless circles. So many variables. So many things could happen. He didn't
dare contact Aliera. Chatir
would pick up on it, and any warning Ali got would be offset by their discovery
of her location. He'd felt some physical pain in their last
"conversation" and knew she'd been wounded in the fight with Kira. As much as he feared her, he feared *for* her even
more. As they made final approach to Bajor, he was no
closer to a plan of action than he had been on the station. Briefly squeezing
his eyes shut, trying to hold off despair, he decided to wait and see what
happened, and hope his reactions would be fast enough to deal with whatever
occurred.
The tracker put the shuttle down in a clearing just north of the main
swamp, about ten kilometers from the monastery. She unhooked her harness and
looked at him expectantly. He glared back.
"So now what?" His tone was hostile.
"Now, my dear, you point me toward my prey." She reached across
him, unhooked his harness and pulled him from his seat. Resistance stiffened
his body until she drew her weapon and traced his hairline with the muzzle. It
was a modified disruptor, a messy and painful way to die. *Just the way she
likes it* he thought with the part of his mind not frozen by fear.
"If you shoot me, you certainly won't be able to use my link to
track Aliera." He was surprised at how steady
his voice sounded.
"Oh, I'm sure your death throes would draw her out." He
swallowed and she chuckled, a light, incongruous sound. "But I won't need
to kill you, just hurt you a little. You like that, don't you." She
laughed into his defiant eyes, dark in the sunlight coming through the front
screen glaring at her fiercely. "Not all of your clients liked it
straight, after all. Surely you developed some taste for the more exotic
pleasures?"
"She's not in the shuttle," he growled in response to her
taunting. "If you want to find her let's get it over with."
Chatir drew back from him,
releasing his wrist and allowing him to step out onto the grass.
Kira waited until their
voices faded, then uncurled from her hiding place and crept silently out. She
put aside the puzzling conversation she had overheard and set out after them.
They followed an irregular course, roughly south, into the swamps. Pushing back
unpleasant memories of previous campaigns, she followed at a distance. She was
unable to hear what they said, but Chatir seemed to
be following Bashir. They would walk for a distance,
then he would stop and she would seem to go into some sort of trance.
Unfortunately the weapon she kept trained on the doctor never wavered, and she
stayed far enough away from him that he couldn't surprise her and disarm her.
After nearly an hour of this stop and start searching, Chatir
seemed to lose patience. Before Kira could get close
enough to intervene, Chatir fired at the doctor and
he staggered back, clutching his shoulder. Kira
skirted the edge of the trees where they had stopped and moved in cautiously
Clenching his teeth to keep from crying out, Julian gripped his shoulder
and tried to slow the bleeding. Pain gnawed at him, and Chatir
raised the weapon again.
"Next time it's a knee, my dear. Open the channel. I want the Romulan."
*Julian?! What happened? I heard you scream!* Her
voice was strong in his mind. Sensing that events were spiraling out of
control, he didn't answer, tried to close her out of his thoughts. But he
involuntarily reacted to her concern, and the tracker's face lit up with
triumph.
*No! Aliera! The bounty hunter's with me! RUN!*
He projected the warning as strongly as he could, but Chatir
was already pushing through the undergrowth, heading deeper into the swamp.
"Bloody, bloody hell!" Scrambling to keep up, trying to ignore the growing dizziness from blood
loss, he pushed after her.
*What on Bajor just happened?* Kira wondered as she followed the doctor. Her instincts
warned her that all hell was about to break loose, and she kept her head down.
Julian broke through the tangled vines to find Aliera
and Chatir facing one another. The fight was woefully
mismatched, a disruptor against a hunting knife. But Chatir
was delaying the kill, letting the fear and anger build, to make the ending that
much more satisfying. Ali's eyes met his for a brief moment, then
they rushed the tracker together. Bashir threw his
body at her weapon, fingers scrabbling for a grip, while Aliera
launched herself at Chatir's midriff, knocking her
off balance. Chatir brought her left forearm across
Julian's injured shoulder in a vicious blow, and the pain caused him to lose
his grip on her wrist.
Shaking herself like a giant dog, Chatir
twisted from Aliera's tackle and kicked her in the
ribs as she fell. Before Chatir could raise her
weapon to Aliera, a flying weight caught her off
guard, and Julian took her down with a body block. They rolled in a tangle of
limbs to the base of a tree. Aliera managed to pull Chatir away from Julian, and cracked her hard across the
temple with her clenched fists. Chatir went down and
lay still. With a gasp of relief that sent arrows of pain through her broken
ribs, Ali turned to her battered friend.
"Julian?" *Oh, Elements, please don't
let him be dead.* "Can you hear me?" She knelt beside him and stroked
the side of his face. *Please, baby, wake up. Don't you dare die on me.*
*I thought that's what you wanted, Ali.* The
response was dimmed by pain, but definite. He opened his eyes and looked up at
her wistfully.
*No, not really.* She cupped his face in her hands. *We have to talk.
I've let you believe things, in my anger, that aren't true.*
He turned his head to press a kiss into her palm and saw Chatir pulling herself up from the ground. She had her
disruptor and was bringing it up to shoot Aliera in
the back. Reacting instinctively, he grabbed Aliera
by the waist and flipped her underneath him, putting himself between her and
the weapon.
*How sweet. Two for one shot.* Chatir's thought
snickered through his mind and she leveled the disruptor to fire. Aliera didn't have a chance to push him out of danger
before they heard the sharp whine of phaser fire. Chatir's scream echoed through their minds, and her death
agony wrenched at Julian's emotions, overwhelming him and causing him to lose
consciousness.
Aliera caught Julian's
weight as he slumped against her, then looked up in
disbelief to see the Bajoran major step from the
underbrush. Kira closed the distance between them and
bent to check the doctor's condition. Finding a strong pulse, she looked up
into the stunned face of the Romulan.
"Come on. We have to get him to the monastery. He's lost a lot of
blood."
Ali nodded. "Thank you," she whispered as she helped Kira support Julian.
"He's my friend. I couldn't see letting him get fried just because
he has rotten taste in singers." Kira stared
straight ahead and ignored Aliera's hard glance.
"Besides, he's the only real doctor the station's got, and it would take
too damned long to replace him."
A muffled snort of laughter came from the middle figure of the trio at
this retort, and she looked up to see pain-glazed hazel eyes assessing her.
"Truth will out," he murmured, then fixed his eyes on his feet and
concentrated on his steps. She stifled a grin and tightened her grip on his
waist. Together they made their way toward the monastery. After a while Aliera broke the silence.
"Will they let me in the monastery? I tried not to inflict any
lasting harm on the priest, but I'm probably not their favorite person."
"The 'priest' as you call him is ... a friend of mine. I can trust
him to help."
"What about the guards?"
"Kira gave her a quick glance. "We're going in through a private entrance, into the
gardens. No one will see us who shouldn't."
Reassured, Aliera fell silent. After what felt
like forever, they came to the high stone wall of the monastery. Kira led them unerringly through a small door inset into
the shadows of the wall, through a remote part of the garden, to the back hall.
After a thorough scan to make sure they were unobserved, she took them to the
guest room she had stayed in during her last visit. Helping Ali settle Julian
gently onto the bed, she turned to find Bareil. The
tenderness in Aliera's touch reassured her that Bashir would be all right in her care. At least long enough
for her to return with the Vedek and a healer.
Julian jerked awake, disoriented and confused. Thinking for a moment that
he was back in the swamp and reacting without waiting to find out, he swung a
fist at the blurry figure leaning over him. Strong fingers caught his wrist
before the blow could land, and an amused voice floated down to him.
"Good reactions, baby -- but not very nice to the healer. Where's
your professional courtesy?"
"Aliera?" Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he was aware of the cool pressure
of a regenerator pressed to his shoulder. The lingering traces of Chatir's death still shadowed his mind but he was able to
concentrate on his surroundings. Aliera sat slightly
to his right side, supporting his good shoulder and lightly rubbing the arm
she'd just caught. An older, gentle faced Bajoran man
in monk's robes was just finishing up working over him. *Ali, your ribs.* He
sent out a quick but thorough probe to assess her condition.
*Ever the healer* she laughed back in his mind. *I'm fine. Your fierce
major brought in a healer and he took care of both of us.* Aliera
squeezed his shoulder gently in reassurance and Julian relaxed against her.
*My major?*
*Well, she saved your butt, and even helped
*Kindred souls, perhaps.* He ignored her puzzlement over the comment and
thanked the Bajoran doctor for his care. The monk
murmured a soft acknowledgment and gave both of them some final instructions
for their recovery. Then gathering his equipment, he nodded to them and went to
join Vedek Bareil. As they
began a low-voiced conversation, Kira detached
herself from them and came across the room to stand by the bed.
*You find the most interesting friends, Bashir.
Wonder what Garak would make of her.* Aloud, Kira asked, "So, doctor, how are you feeling?"
Neither Julian nor Aliera gave a visible
reaction to Kira's thought, but Ali shook with silent
laughter for a moment. *Behave, Ali!* Julian thought fiercely at her, and she
subsided.
"I'm fine, Kira, thanks to your quick
action."
"I thought you passed out?" Kira
cocked a quizzical eyebrow at him.
"Not until after you shot Chatir."
*Julian? Doesn't the Bajoran know?*
*No, Ali, none of them do. They think I'm as mind blind as a stone.*
"I wish to thank you, Major Kira, for
saving my life." Aliera's words were formal but
her voice was warm. Kira looked at her for a long
moment, then inclined her head.
"Actually, I was saving Bashir's. Yours
was incidental."
*Ouch! Put you in *your* place!*
*Oh, shut up, healer.*
Kira was startled by the
glowing smiles they both gave her.
"Whatever the motivation, the outcome was my survival, and I thank
you."
"Don't make me regret it."
"I will not." Somber emerald eyes met intense brown, and they
struck a truce without another word being spoken.
"Kira?" Julian broke into their exchange. "Would it be possible for Aliera and I to have some time alone?
We ... really need to talk. Privately."
She nodded. "I need to talk to Vedek Bareil, too. We may need to do some -- damage control. I'll
be back in a little while." Turning on her heel she rejoined Bareil. The Bajoran healer had
left sometime during their conversation. Kira and the
Vedek exchanged some words, too low for the couple on
the bed to hear. Bareil looked over her shoulder at
Julian. The doctor smiled back at him reassuringly and Bareil
relaxed somewhat, obviously still not trusting Aliera.
Threading his arm through Kira's, he guided her
through the door and closed it softly behind them.
"Well." Aliera shifted until she was
sitting beside Julian, one arm still loosely around his waist. He looked at his
hands lying clasped in his lap, and consciously relaxed his fingers. When she
didn't continue, he looked over at her face. Her eyes were huge, more
vulnerable than he had ever seen them, and the downward curve of her mouth was
troubled. "I don't think you'll believe my words, Healer." Her wistful
voice caught at his heart.
"Then don't tell me. Show me." He unlinked his fingers and
captured her free hand between both of his. Snuggling into her embrace, he
opened his mind to hers. At first, all he read was a nearly overwhelming
hesitancy, a touch of fear. Her emotions were cloud gray, laced with stormy
black and the teal of the linen they had worn as slaves. Slowly images began to
form.
His own face, eyes blank, blood running over his
hands, between his fingers. The
body of the empath at his feet, lying between them.
*Run, Ishmir!* The sound of
pounding feet, the peace keepers, coming in response to the empath's
death cry. He backed away from her, from *it*, stumbling, turning, running.
Peace keepers. Two of them. Grabbing
for her, drawing their weapons. No time to think, only react. Pull the
knife from the body. Slash, hard as she can. Get away. Oh, Elements, he was
holding her too tightly! Twist, duck, thrust it home. Keep you busy with your
partner - - have to get away.
One peace keeper now, holding the body of the other. Sorry, sorry, no
time to regret, have to escape. Sirens followed her flight, but she hid. Escaped. Used her skills. Used her talents. Used her self.
The image shifted. One of the mining settlements,
farther from Earth, just another stop on the trade route. Dark room, still, quiet. Nobody home! Rifling through
drawers, need to find a little something, got to eat. Slender fingers expertly
lifting goods, some jewelry, a hand phaser. Damn! No time to hide. How'd he get back so soon?
Not shift change yet! Fire and Sky, the bastard's drunk! Rough hands reached
out to hit at her. *Have a little fun with the bitch thief* No! You will not!
Hand comes up, safety's off. Oh, Elements. Not on stun after all. Slipping through the window. Falling into
the dirt below. Stomach retching, mind turning, caught in a trap, always
trying to escape, why is there never any escape, oh Elements
...
Once again the image shifted. Later, so much later, and the figure in the
mirror wasn't so gaunt. The clothes were cheap but flashy enough to look good
under the lights. After the performance on stage, another,
more private performance. Door opened. Lush room,
pricey for Rigel IV. Good pickings after she
put the old lech to sleep for the night. Not bad
wine, considering. Cold hands. How can cold hands
sweat? Just another glass, lover. Hmm, yes. Just.
Like. That. Beddy bye. What have we here? The sparkle of
the real thing, no glass here. A snorting shuffle
behind her, whirling to face him. More hard headed
than she'd thought. Reaching out to stop him from calling in his thugs
-- she wouldn't stand a chance -- no time to get to her weapons. Struggle for
the wall, stupid old man, don't fight so hard, I don't want to hurt you!
Scuffling, turning, keep him from the alarm. Sudden shove,
crumpling into a heap, neck at such an odd angle. Looking
up to meet appalled eyes. Air and Water, his
housekeeper. Not going to hurt you, please don't run. Caught, just a
light tap on the temple, tie her up, grab the gems. Sorry, old lech. New life, new place.
"You don't know your own strength." Julian's words dissipated
the last of the images. She nodded dismally.
"It's not so much that I'm a killer."
"No, you're just a lousy thief with bad timing." Her head came
up to glare at him, and she was surprised at the sympathy in his expression. He
leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on her lips. "I'm sorry love.
Inappropriate to joke about it, but I needed to lighten this up between
us."
"It's not a joking matter."
"No. The killings were in self defense."
"Does that make *you* feel any less guilty?" Her question gave
him pause. "After all, so was yours."
"No," he eventually responded. "No less guilty, for all it
was the only way to save myself. But I feel responsible for the hell you went
through."
"I blamed you for a very long time, Julian." He noticed her
deliberate use of his new name and brightened. "We're both different
people now. And it wasn't your fault, not really. Had we stayed as we were, in
the marketplace, neither of us would have survived."
"You wouldn't be running."
"No, I'd be dead. So would you." She tightened her hold on his
waist and pulled him closer to her side. "I'd rather run. It's a big
universe, lots of room."
"Why did you risk yourself to come here? A Federation outpost is not
the safest place for a fugitive."
"Had to." She rubbed her cheek briefly against his. "I've only ever loved one
person. And I had to confront you, see if I could set things straight with you.
Seeing the state of your shields, you weren't dealing with it too well
either."
"Healer, heal thyself?"
She chuckled. "Something like that."
"Aliera." He opened up his thoughts to her again. *I really do love you.*
*Thank the Elements, baby, I didn't think you'd ever get around to-*
His kiss interrupted her thought. Rolling her onto her back, laughing,
they tugged at each other's clothing, feeling young for the first time in too
many years. Laughter subsided as more intense emotions wove around them,
thoughts and feelings pulling them under, tossing them up, wrapping
them in a cocoon of color and sound and sensation.
*Surely they've had time to talk about it by now.* Kira
paused outside the guest room door, then rang the
chime. There was no answer, and her vague uneasiness intensified. *I knew I
shouldn't have left him alone in there with her. She's already tried to kill
him twice and Dax will have my head if anything
happens to him!* Keying in the lock override, she started forward. Then she
abruptly stopped.
No wonder there hadn't been any answer to the chime. The erstwhile enemies were intertwined so tightly they resembled one
creamy tan and minty white body. Kira
was distracted by the tracks of thin white scars crossing Bashir's
back, running from his shoulders across the expanse of skin down to his hips. Old, deep, and from more than one beating, by the look of it.
Bright emerald eyes, one winged brow flying upward, peered dreamily at her over
a muscular shoulder.
Kira grinned at the
sight, then turned and retreated through the door. Re- keying the lock
sequence, she decided she really hadn't finished her conversation with Bareil.
Vedek Bareil
looked up to see Doctor Bashir make his way into the
garden. Kira noticed his hastily stifled smile and
looked up to find the source of his distraction. Seeing Bashir
hesitating in the archway, she sighed and excused herself to Bareil. Joining him with a sly smile, she tried to look
behind him into the corridor. "Where's Aliera?"
"Um."
At this less than informative response, she gave up trying to look behind
him and looked at his face. *My, don't we look contented!* floated into his
mind, and they both bit their lips to keep from laughing. Regaining control of himself, Julian gathered his scattered thoughts enough to
answer her. "She's left."
Somehow that didn't surprise her. "How?"
"Chatir's
shuttle."
"Really gone this time? Not hiding in the swamps again?"
He nodded, and she sighed. "Then I guess there's not much else for
you around here."
She threw a wistful glance at the Vedek, then went to make her good-byes. The doctor waited patiently
until she rejoined him, stretching his newly healed shoulder and reflecting on
his recent experiences. All of them. He felt more
settled than he had in a long while, and more ready to face the demons of his
memories than he had ever been.
"There's a shuttle leaving in a half hour for the station. I've
contacted Commander Sisko and let him know where
we've been."
At his wary look, she hurried on. "Not all the details. Just that we
were -- helping the bounty hunter find Aliera. And that -- they're both gone and won't be any
further threat to the station or anybody on it. Or to Bajor."
Bashir barely restrained
himself from hugging her. Even if she didn't recoil from him, Vedek Bareil could still see
them, and he didn't want to cause any unnecessary complications. He was getting
strong indications of impending romance there, and he didn't want to
accidentally mess anything up for them. So he satisfied himself with a
heartfelt, "Thank you, Kira."
"Explanations could get complicated."
"Very."
"And Sisko is a Star Fleet commander. Bound to report ... certain things ... if they were brought to his
attention."
"Undoubtedly."
"It would be a moral dilemma for him."
"Definitely."
"And we don't want to put him in an uncomfortable position-"
"Kira? Least said, soonest mended."
"What? Where did that come from?"
Julian grimaced. "Old Earth saying. What he
doesn't know won't hurt us."
She nodded, both of them in complete agreement for once. They walked in
silence for a few moments, then Julian continued
tentatively.
"You deserve the whole truth about all this, Kira.
I know it has been ... confusing for you."
She sniffed but didn't answer him.
"I can't quite tell you yet. One day I hope I can." She reacted
to the pain buried in his voice, reaching out to lightly pat his arm. "Just not now, not yet."
"It's your story, Julian. When you feel like you can, or want to,
talk about it, I'm here to listen. You know, one of these days I might tell you
something of my past, too."
He smiled slightly. "If you wish to, I'd be honored to listen."
She smiled back. "Goes both ways."
The sheer normalcy of the afternoon calmed Julian's nerves. He had
reassured his staff that everything was under control, seen Commander Sisko and managed to survive that interview relatively
intact. Changing into casual pants and a sweater, he relaxed in his bedroom and
tried not to think about separations. The sound of the door chime rescued him
before his thoughts became too depressing. Rousing himself, he met his visitor
at the door.
Jadzia smiled warmly at
him, her eyes running quickly over him as if to assure herself
that he was in one piece. "Hi, Julian."
"Hello." Her company was just the distraction he needed.
"Would you like to come in?"
She nodded and stepped past him into the room. The light, spicy fragrance
she wore tickled his senses as she passed. She was also dressed casually, in a
light raw silk jumpsuit and a fuzzy angora shell. *Cuddly. Warm and cuddly.* This was not his standard mental image of Dax, and it took a moment for him to regain his
equilibrium. When he did, he noticed that she seemed a little nervous.
"You look lovely, Jadzia. Are you on your
way to a date?" Teasingly. To his mild surprise,
she answered him seriously.
"I hope so. Have you had dinner yet?"
"No." His momentary hesitation passed, and he felt very
relaxed. "Would you like to have dinner with me?"
"That's my line." Her eyes sparkled into his. He didn't resist
the temptation to grin back.
"Quark's?"
"Actually, I was thinking of someplace a little quieter."
"Like where?" He ushered her back out into the corridor and moved to walk beside her.
Underlying the warmth of their friendship he felt the electricity of her
arousal. It matched his, and he tingled from the mixture of anticipation and
companionship.
"There's a little place, run by a Bajoran
master chef, down on the D concourse. I thought you might like to try it out. Kira recommended it."
"Lead on," he smiled.
"Just follow me." She reached out and slipped her fingers
through his. *Slow and easy. Do it right* whispered in his mind.
"Quiet and private sounds wonderful. We ... need to talk. About a lot of things." His soft words made her smile
with relief, and she relaxed. It was a beginning.
the end