Chapter Text
Stardate: 51480.7
“Odo!”
Odo looked up from his PADD as Kira stepped though his office doors.
“Kira,” he greeted, not bothering to suppress his soft smile.
Smiling back, Kira dropped straight down into her chair—as if there had never been a time when she’d felt uncomfortable around him. She leaned back against its crest, shutting her eyes.
“Rough trip?” Odo asked.
She cracked an eye.
“As I understand it,” Odo said, tilting his head to watch her face, “this was a purely…scientific mission? Studying a…subspace compression phenomenon?”
Kira groaned. “It was supposed to be.”
“Did something happen?”
She sighed. “The Defiant was boarded. By Jem’Hadar.”
Odo stiffened.
“I’m sure the captain’s report will be crossing your desk any minute,” she added.
Odo didn’t answer right away.
They were at war. He knew that. He was painfully aware of that fact—after all, he’d had to give up a great deal to stay here, to choose this place.
Still, the notion that a scientific mission could so easily turn into one of combat sent anxiety trickling through his matrix.
Finally, Odo stood and moved to his office replicator. “Can I get you anything?”
A smile teased Kira’s mouth. “I could go for a raktajino.”
“Computer,” Odo said, “one raktajino, extra hot, two measures of kava.”
By the time he was seated and Kira’s mug was warming her hands, a fond smile was lighting up her face.
“You’ve always remembered that,” she said. “I don’t think I ever even told you my raktajino order.”
Odo shrugged.
He, of course, remembered the first time he’d heard her order one. He wasn’t even fully aware of his own feelings at the time. But her order had stuck in his mind, and since then, he’d found that remembering it was a small thing he could do to put a smile on her face.
Kira took a careful sip. Then she pulled one knee up so she could rest her mug against it, leaning back in her chair.
“Odo,” she said, “there’s something you might want to know.”
He was immediately on alert.
“These Jem’Hadar,” she said. “They were different. Bred in the Alpha Quadrant, for one. But…”
He tilted his head. “But…?”
“I don’t think the quadrant they’re bred in makes much of a difference,” Kira said. Her eyes found his. “They’re a new breed. They seem to have…I don’t know, a different temperament.”
“How so?”
“It’s hard to explain,” Kira said. “They seem…less suspicious. Less strict. Less single-minded. Almost…” She frowned. “Less like automatons.”
Odo frowned. “You’re telling me they have…free will?”
Kira shook her head. “I don’t know, Odo. I’m not sure I’d go that far. But I can tell you that their Second—one of the old guard—was constantly trying to advise the First. And the First was…almost merciful. He played straight into the captain’s hands, over the Second’s objections.”
Odo’s mouth opened.
Shut.
It was strange enough to hear of a Jem’Hadar questioning orders. Even stranger to hear of a First being so…malleable.
“I’m not sure what that means,” Kira said, staring into her raktajino. “Can we afford to believe that the Jem’Hadar have gotten less dangerous?”
“Doubtful,” Odo said, folding his hands. “We can’t let down our guard.”
He’d only meant it in a tactical sense. But now Kira’s eyes had caught his, seeming to peer straight into his core.
The slightest edge of pain bled into his voice. “What?”
“Nothing.” Kira shook her head. “It’s just…you say that so easily. As if you’ve completely accepted that they’re the enemy.”
Odo jolted. Did she think he—?
“I only meant,” she said, putting up a hand, “I know what you’ve given up.”
He sighed.
“And I appreciate it,” she said. “How difficult it must be for you. I just…want you to know that.”
There was a part of him—a large part—that was tempted to brush off her concern, downplay his pain, ignore his own feelings.
It would be easier.
Or…would it?
Would anything make his choice easier? Anything except—possibly—letting Kira stand at his side?
She was what made his choice worthwhile.
Hesitantly, he met her gaze. “Thank you, Kira.”
Stardate: 51509.3
Kira was at the situation table, keeping an eye on the Ninth Fleet’s movements, when Odo and Quark simultaneously entered Ops from the doors to either side of the pit.
“Excuse me, Major—”
“Major, I’m sorry—”
Then they both stopped, faced one another, and simultaneously said, “Go ahead.”
“There’s something—”
“I need a—”
Kira held back her laughter. “Alright…you first,” she pointed to Odo, “then you.”
Odo nodded in thanks. “I need an engineering crew to run a diagnostic on the internal security sensors. There’s been an unusual number of false alarms lately.”
“I’ll have someone take a look at it as soon as possible,” Kira said, nodding. “Now, Quark.”
“There’s something wrong with the fire-suppression system in the bar,” Quark said. “Every time I serve a flaming cocktail, the system engages and snuffs it out.”
“I’ll put it on the list,” Kira said.
“Please do,” Quark said. “You have no idea what people are willing to pay for a glass of burning alcohol.”
Then Bashir stepped off the nearest turbolift. “Excuse me, Major—”
“Oh, let me guess,” she said. “There’s a malfunction in the infirmary.”
“How did you know?”
She barely even had time to roll her eyes in exasperation before the other turbolift rose into Ops—and jolted to a halt with Dax and Worf still knee-deep below the deck.
“Major,” Worf said, deadpan, “there is something wrong with the turbolift.”
“I can see that,” Kira said.
“We seem to be having a lot of system glitches,” Dax said, hopping up into Ops and then leaning down to reach for Worf’s hand.
“Happens every time Chief O’Brien goes away,” Kira said, resigned.
“I do not understand why his staff cannot keep the station running in his absence,” Worf said.
“Must have left my idiot brother in charge,” Quark muttered.
Kira cut in. “The engineering crew is doing the best they can.”
“The problem is,” Dax said, “no one knows how the Chief keeps all this Federation and Cardassian technology working together.”
“We’ve got to do something,” Quark said. “This can’t go on!”
Odo shot him a look. “You’ll survive.”
“Quark,” Kira said, “I’ll send someone as soon as I can, but you know flaming cocktails aren’t my first priority.” Quark started to protest, but Kira raised a finger. “Now, don’t you have someplace else to be?”
Quark shot her an indignant look. Nevertheless, he left Ops in the direction he’d come.
“I think I’ll go talk to the captain,” Bashir said, then crossed to Sisko’s office.
Kira sighed, shaking her head.
“Major?” Odo asked.
Kira glanced his way. There was only the slightest hint of concern in his voice, and she knew his use of her rank was only because they were on duty. He still maintained formality with her when the situation called for it, but the second it was just them, she was “Kira” again.
She could get used to this. Part of her even wished he would call her Nerys.
She smiled. “I’m alright, Constable.”
“Well,” he said, nodding, “I’ll head back down to security.”
*
Stardate: 51545.8
Kira’s to-do list remained full until the Chief returned to duty. With the station back in his capable hands, she could finally relax—and she found herself gravitating to, of all places, the security office.
Well, it wasn’t all that strange when her best friend worked there.
She’d been thinking about him all day. About that soft smile that seemed to constantly linger on his face when she was around, about how much he’d relaxed lately. About that rare moment of utter vulnerability the other week, when she’d told Odo about the Jem’Hadar that had commandeered the Defiant.
“I appreciate it. How difficult it must be for you. I just…want you to know that.”
For the briefest of moments, she’d thought he would shut down. Instead, he’d held her gaze.
“Thank you, Kira.”
Somehow, in that moment, his use of her name had felt all the more significant. It was the perfect opportunity for him to distance himself from his feelings slightly, to thank her even as he called her Major.
But he hadn’t. He’d let her be there for him. Let her have his back.
She really could get used to this.
So, when she found his office empty, she did the only thing that made sense.
“Computer,” she ordered, tapping her combadge, “location of Odo?”
“Security Chief Odo is in his quarters.”
Kira hesitated.
She could leave him be. She didn’t have station business to discuss—quite the opposite. She’d had enough station business for one day. And so far, despite how much he’d relaxed around her, all the time they’d spent together had been in common areas—his office, the replimat, Quark’s, even the holosuites.
But something told her he’d welcome her presence all the same.
She tapped her combadge again. “Kira to Odo.”
“Here.”
“You busy?”
He was silent for a beat.
“Not at all.”
A smile warmed her face. “Mind if I stop by?”
“Please do.”
*
Odo was uncomfortably aware that he had no furniture in his quarters.
He wasn’t a social being. Entertaining people hadn’t been anywhere in his plans, when he’d first requested these quarters and begun to transform them into a shapeshifting paradise. And in the years since, he’d never needed to bring in furniture. People just didn’t spend time here.
But Kira was different.
She stood near his door, idly surveying the space, and it occurred to Odo distantly that the last time she’d been in here, he’d told her she didn’t matter. That only the Link mattered.
His substance clenched.
He needed to overwrite that memory—quickly .
“Kira,” he said.
Her gaze found his. He was seated at his console—the only chair in the room. The only one he’d needed, until now.
“You sure I’m not bothering you?” Kira asked.
“Not at all.” He smiled, only to falter. “But…I don’t have any furniture.”
She chuckled. “I can see that.”
Odo started to his feet. “I could have something beamed—”
She put up a hand. “You don’t need to bring in anything extra for me.”
And she settled down against one beam of his arched structure, as if it were the most natural place in the world for her to be. He was so surprised that he almost didn’t notice her pat the floor beside her.
Obliging, he crossed to her and eased to the floor.
“I remember the first time you let me in here,” Kira said quietly, her gaze drifting about the room.
And the first time I shut you out, Odo’s mind traitorously whispered.
Something must have shown on his face, because she zeroed in on him. “Odo?”
“Yes?”
“You are okay with me being here, right?”
He couldn’t stand the uncertainty on her face.
“Yes,” he murmured, holding her gaze. “Of course.”
“It’s just…” She hesitated. “You seem a little…uncomfortable.”
He sighed. “Not with you.”
“Then…?”
“I was just…remembering things.”
A tiny furrow appeared in Kira’s brow. “Maybe talking about it would help.”
“Maybe.”
She stayed quiet, waiting. Listening.
But this wasn’t at all an easy topic to broach.
“It’s about…the occupation,” he said.
He kept his eyes on her, watching her face for the slightest change. Ready to shut down this entire conversation, if she needed him to.
But she surprised him. “Go on.”
“About…the Founder,” he clarified.
Her only sign of discomfort was a marginal tightening of her brow. “Go on.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” She managed a small smile. “It’s behind us, isn’t it? And you’re my friend. If something’s bothering you—”
Odo’s head tipped back on a sigh. “If you’re sure…”
“Yes.”
“Well…” He let his eyes slip shut; somehow, it was easier that way. “When you mentioned…the first time you came in here…”
“Yes?”
“I just thought of…the time I shut you out.” A shudder traveled through his form. “When I was with…her.”
He couldn’t see Kira’s expression—and he wasn’t sure he had the courage to look.
Then, to his surprise, her fingers squeezed his. “Go on.”
His matrix tightened; involuntarily, his fingers clenched around hers.
“Odo?” Kira prompted softly.
Just say it.
“I…never told you,” he said quietly. “I…slept with her.”
Kira’s fingers went still.
Cold dread trickled like ice through his matrix. Every cell in his body froze as he awaited her judgment.
Then her fingers relaxed. “You don’t sound like you enjoyed it.”
“I didn’t.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “And at the time, I barely even understood why. Thought maybe it was because it wasn’t the Link. That anything from the Solid world could only feel pale in comparison.”
Kira’s only response was another light squeeze of his hand.
“But…” He opened his eyes, found her face. “Kira, it was awful. It just—” His breath hitched. “It shouldn’t have been with her. I shouldn’t have…”
“Why did you?” Kira asked.
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “It’s all so hazy now. All a blur. But I think…she asked it of me, and…I just did.”
Kira didn’t answer.
“Afterward, I just felt so…cold,” he murmured. Then he reconsidered. “No, that’s not quite right—I didn’t feel. I was drifting, like a ghost. Disembodied. It was more…like a state of being. Like nothing could reach me. Like nothing was real.” His eyes slipped shut again. “It was almost as bad as the constant anxiety that drove me to her in the first place.”
“Anxiety?” Kira asked. “What do you mean?”
He sighed. “My worry about you. My…my shame. Sitting on the ruling council every day, walking that narrow line…”
Kira’s fingers squeezed his in reassurance.
“There were times when I wondered if you could see me at all,” he whispered. “If you realized the position I was in. I…I was so afraid, Kira. You—” His head rocked to capture her gaze, desperate. “Bajor signed a nonaggression pact, Kira. The captain wanted Bajor to stay out of the fighting. And you—”
Fire crept into Kira’s eyes. “Did you really think I could just stand by and do nothing?”
Odo sighed. “No, I—I don’t know. Maybe that was a lost cause from the beginning. You’re not the type to—and I—” Love you for it. “But I buried you once, Kira, and I—”
“Wait, stop.” She put up a hand; her fingers slipped from his. “You what?”
Odo froze.
I buried you once…
He hadn’t meant to say that. Hadn’t intended to touch that subject. Had barely wanted to think about it. Possibly ever.
“You buried me?”
Odo shook his head. “Kira, please—”
“No, talk to me!” Kira said. “What the hell do you mean?”
Odo’s breath trembled.
—again and again, his shovel struck the ground—
“Odo—”
“No.” Odo gritted out the word. “Not now, Kira. I can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
He caught her gaze. “I can’t talk about that, Kira. Please.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s too painful!” he cried. “I just can’t. I’ll give you anything else you ask. Any answers, any part of me, anything else you want to know. But not that.”
Kira peered at him. And for the first time since he’d begun to let her in, let her see, it hurt.
He rocked his head back against the beam. “Please, Kira.”
“…Alright.”
He stilled.
He hadn’t expected her to agree.
“I can respect that,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”
Odo sighed.
“I suppose I’ve just gotten used to how open you’ve been with me, lately,” she said. “It’s…really nice.”
Odo tipped his head her way. “I endeavor to please, Kira.”
She smiled. “That’s nice, too.”
“What is?”
“You, always using my name,” she said. “You used to be so formal.”
Odo managed a tiny smile. “Then I’ll continue.”
Her hand was back, squeezing his fingers. He closed his eyes again, letting himself relax into her touch.
This was more than he’d ever dreamed possible.
Did it really matter that he would never hear those three words from her lips, that he would never utter them himself again? That she couldn’t love him—couldn’t love a Changeling?
This was enough, wasn’t it?
“Kira?” he asked softly.
“Yeah?”
“Will you…stay a while?”
Her fingers squeezed again. “Of course.”