Major Kira Nerys stared at the baseball-shaped space on the Captain's desk, then turned to gaze out of the window at the wormhole-free sky. Four weeks and there had been no word from the Emissary, no sign from the Prophets. But every day, there was news of fresh casualties from the battle fronts. The station was overrun with battle-hungry Klingons and supercilious Romulans. The staff were run off their feet. And just to add to the fun, Starfleet kept issuing new security protocols every two days. She was beginning to wonder if they were doing it deliberately to annoy her.

She sighed and picked up the duty roster. Worf had asked to do double shifts again. She could understand that work was his way of distracting himself, of helping himself to come to terms with the death of his wife, yet in spite of the famous Klingon constitution she couldn't help wondering if he was overdoing it. When he wasn't on duty he seemed to live in the holosuites, although no-one knew exactly what he did there. If she moved her head she could just see him at the tactical station in Ops, a grim, silent, brooding shadow of the man she knew he was.

Kira felt her heart contract with pity. She knew there was nothing she could say or do to help him. Despite his gruff exterior she had always got on well with the Klingon, yet now she wouldn't know what to say to him, beyond the fact that she, too missed Jadzia Dax more than she could say. She had been her closest female friend on the station. Almost her best friend – but …

Kira had lost so many people she loved over the years that someone had once asked her if you got used to it. But you didn't. There were still occasions when she woke up in a cold sweat, having found herself standing over the body of her father, Kira Taban – or back in DS9's infirmary, gazing through her tears at the still form of Bareil Antos as he took his last few breaths. A lump still rose in her throat when she thought of Bareil, and she guessed it always would. Some part of her would always love him. That brief escapade last year with his counterpart from the mirror universe hadn't improved things.

And yet - if she looked hard enough there were one or two crumbs of comfort left on the plate. The first was in the padd on the desk in front of her, next to the spot where the baseball wasn't. It was a personal message from Major-General Krim, head of the Bajoran militia. It was delighted to inform her that, in recognition of her heroic service to Bajor as liaison officer on board the joint Bajoran/Federation station Deep Space Nine, Major Kira Nerys was to be promoted to Colonel with immediate effect.

Kira smiled in spite of herself. She had never been very impressed by things like rank and title, yet occasionally it was nice to know that someone, somewhere, recognised that you worked your butt off and risked your life regularly on behalf of your world.

The second had just walked noiselessly through the door and brandished another padd at her.

"Major," said the Chief of Security gruffly. "I am delighted to be able to inform you that Starfleet has once again deigned to issue us with new security protocols, only fifty-two hours after the last lot. However, due to the fact that once again I anticipated this, my deputies already have them in place."

He looked rather smug for a moment. Then his whole demeanour suddenly changed as he leaned on the desk and added, with a gentleness that might have surprised anyone but her, "You look tired, Nerys."

She slumped back in the Captain's chair and closed her eyes.

"I'm exhausted, Odo. I have hosted seven meetings with Klingons, Romulans and Starfleet captains all insisting that their ships have priority for repair. I have repair crews working round the clock. I keep having to ask Chief O'Brien to put more staff on even though I know he's run off his feet. I have had to draft in six more medical teams from Bajor to keep up with the casualties. I have dealt with eleven communications from Admiral Ross ensuring various bits of Starfleet regulation which I've never even heard of are in place. And I personally broke up a fight between two Klingons and an Andorian in Quark's at lunchtime. On top of that, there are reports that the Ninth Fleet suffered heavy losses in the last engagement on the frontier, and I've still not heard whether the Dax symbiont has arrived safely on Trill, but for all I know Starfleet could have imposed a communications blackout and haven't yet got around to telling us. But - "she sat up straight and looked directly at him - "there is some good news, and I'm glad that you're the first to know. I have been promoted."

Odo's expression didn't change, but she had learned to recognise the almost imperceptible ripple of pleasure that ran through him. "You mean the military padd-tappers on Bajor have finally woken up to the fact that you deserve some recognition? It's about time. It's more than about time." He leaned across the desk as if to kiss her - then stopped short. "This is something to do with the First Minister, isn't it?"

Kira sighed. She thought she had managed to allay his fears about her feelings towards her previous lover several times, but the subject still kept coming up. "Don't be ridiculous," she replied. "He has no jurisdiction over that sort of thing. It came directly from Major-General Krim." She smiled invitingly. "Come with me? The ceremony's in a week's time. I promise you Shakaar won't even be there. He has much more important things to do than turn up to a military promotion ceremony."

Odo didn't reply. Instead, he walked around the back of the chair and began to massage her shoulders. She sighed deeply and leaned her head back against him. "Don't take this the wrong way, Odo," she said, "but sometimes it seems like you're the only solid thing I have to hang on to."

The shape-shifter smiled - something he did much more often these days.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Kira found herself thinking back to this time last year, when all the Starfleet officers had been off in the battlefield, the station was overrun with Cardassians and Jem'Hadar and Gul Dukat had been sitting in this chair. And she had been forced to attend briefings with him and that creepy Vorta ...Yet all that had paled into insignificance beside the horror of Odo being got at by that Changeling - female and almost going over to the other side.

She shuddered, feeling again the cold, sickening wave of shock that had hit her when she'd asked him if their friendship didn't matter any more. He had, oddly and distantly, replied "It did – once" and then looked at her almost pityingly and added "You don't understand. You're not a Changeling."

"What's the matter?" asked Odo gently.

"I was just thinking ... this time last year we were hardly even speaking to each other. I was sitting in meetings with Dukat and you were off with that ... Founder ..."

He gripped her shoulders tightly.

"You do know, don't you, Nerys, that if I had known then - what I know now - I would never have done it?" he said urgently. "But I didn't know what was happening - and I didn't believe that you would - ever ..."

"Realise – what you really meant to me? I can't tell you how glad I am that I finally did," she replied as she stood up and turned to face him. "And you know the strangest thing?" she added, sliding her arms around what he used for a neck. "I feel like I've felt this way for a long time. It's not something that just came on that night we danced at Vic's, or the following morning when we kissed on the Promenade. It's been there – oh, I don't know how long. And I never realised."

"I guess I don't need to remind you," Odo said gently, "that I loved you from the first moment I saw you."

"Do you remember the first thing you ever said to me?" Kira said teasingly.

" 'A pretty girl like you shouldn't be eating alone.' You have to admit," Odo replied, "I was right."

The main hall of the Bajoran military academy was packed to the rafters. Rank upon rank of Bajoran military personnel lined the rows of seats in front of the low platform, on which the austere figure of Major-General Krim stood stiffly to attention in front of a podium.

Resplendent in her new uniform, Kira stood in a line on the platform with the other promoted officers. She didn't recognise many people. Being up on the station meant she was a little out of touch with day-to-day events on Bajor. A lot of people seemed to know who she was, however, and not just because she had once been the First Minister's lover. It seemed she was getting to be something of a legend in her own lifetime.

She glanced over at the little knot of Starfleet uniforms which stood out sharply against the rust, brown and grey of Bajor. Miles and Julian hadn't had to have their arms twisted very hard to have a day away from the station but Worf had taken a bit more persuading. It had been Odo who had finally persuaded him that Kira would consider it a grave insult to her honour if he didn't attend, which seemed to have done the trick. She caught Odo's eye and surreptitiously blew him a kiss.

There was a fanfare. General Krim stepped up on to the podium. And then stepped straight down again. To her astonishment, there was a sudden sussuration among the crowd. "The First Minister! The First Minister! Shakaar! Shakaar!"

And he was there, striding though the crowds, half a head taller than most of the assembled soldiers, the powerful tritinium arc lights glinting off his blond hair. A leader, a hero, a man of great charisma …

And Kira wasn't in the slightest pleased to see him.

The First Minister made his way through the crowds, his white-haired adjutant in tow. How different, and yet how similar he was to the lanky fifteen-year-old who had been catapulted into the leadership of his family's resistance cell after the death of his mother. It was not for nothing that he had become one of the most celebrated resistance leaders on the planet during the Cardassian occupation. Yet as soon as it was over he had disappeared off back to his farm. It had only been some years later, when Kai Winn had forced the issue, that he had reappeared to take his place as leader of his people.

They had so much history together as comrades and friends, she thought. Yet that strange, tense year in which they'd been lovers, in which they had probably spent no more than three weeks in total together, was something she preferred not to dwell on. They had parted amicably, but inevitably. Maybe it had been the will of the Prophets; yet she realised now that she had never really loved him.

Shakaar stepped on to the platform and spoke briefly to Major-General Krim. Then he turned to address the crowd.

"Comrades. 't tell you how glad I am that I could be here with you today. It's good to see old friends getting what they deserve." There was a ripple of laughter through the crowd as he looked right at Kira, who felt her face flame. She stared straight ahead, trying to pretend he was talking about someone else. She couldn't help but notice that Odo was no longer looking at her, but glowering at the floor. He's going to think I was lying to him about Shakaar not being here, she thought. Why is it so hard to convince him that it's all over between us – that I don't love Shakaar – that I never loved him? What more can I say?

Shakaar had finished addressing the crowd and started down the line of promotional candidates. As he approached the end at which she was standing, she bit her lip hard, and took a deep breath.

"Hi, Edon," she said mischievously." "Nice of you to join us today. Didn't you have anything better to do?" She grinned as the officer next to her gasped in horror.

"Come on, Nerys. You know how much I like a good promotion," he replied, matching her mischievous tone." Especially when it's of an old – friend." He glanced round at the crowd briefly, then lowered his voice. "Honestly, Nerys," he said lightly, "I know these are dangerous times, but was it really necessary to bring your Chief of Security?"

"He's not here," replied Kira tartly, "as my Chief of Security." It's time he knew the score, she thought. It's time they both knew.

"I know he's your best friend, you'd trust him with your life ... I have to admit though, Nerys, I've never really understood why you like him so much. He's a real cold fish, isn't he? Very efficient, I'm sure, and good at what he does but – I mean – he doesn't give anything away. He's not really one of us, is he?"

Kira felt suddenly angry. "You have no idea," she replied sharply.

Odo watched sullenly as Shakaar greeted Kira, then stared at the floor. The general air of surprise in the academy was enough to tell him that the First Minister wouldn't normally turn up to something like this. He could hear Julian whispering something to that effect to Miles. He's only here because of Nerys, he thought. Whatever she says, how can I measure up to him? He's known her since she was twelve! He's a Bajoran and he believes in the Prophets and all that stuff I don't even understand! They even split up last time because of something to do with the Prophets! How can I even begin to believe that she might care for someone like me when there's someone like him around?

He looked up again just in time to see that Shakaar had stepped down off the platform and was standing next to it, a huge grin all over his face, as Major-General Krim pinned Colonel Kira's new insignia to her collar. Thanks to him I almost missed that, he thought angrily.

Kira stepped down off the platform too, and turned to walk towards the smiling First Minister…

And wiped the smile off his face as she marched straight past him, strode right up to Odo, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"I know you don't understand all this stuff about the humanoid obsession with rank and title," she began when she finally came up for air.

Odo couldn't speak. The torrential flood of joy which had engulfed him in the moment when Kira, her face lit up like an opening Orb, had come barrelling straight past Shakaar and into his arms had robbed him of everything but the ability to gaze into her eyes and gasp. It was as if an old score was finally being settled.

Finally he managed to stammer "Wh-what I do understand - is how hard you've worked for this and how much you deserve it - and how much it means to me that you wanted me to be here with you today." He could see the First Minister quite clearly over Kira's shoulder, and he was staring at the two of them as if something large and heavy had just been dropped on his foot.

Then Kira said, softly, but still loud enough for Shakaar to hear:

"I love you."

The look on the First Minister's face was priceless.

The triumph was complete.

There was only one possible reply. "And I love you, Nerys," whispered Odo passionately. "I always have and I always will."

And the crowd faded away.

They were eventually interrupted by some throat-clearing noises. "Er, people," said the voice of Bashir, "don't we go to a party now - or something?"

"Sorry," said Kira, coming up for air again. As she went to speak to the Starfleet contingent, Odo unexpectedly found the First Minister at his shoulder.

"It seems I've underestimated you, my friend," he said quietly. "Tell me - what's your secret?"

"I - don't understand what you mean," Odo replied, confused.

Shakaar sighed heavily. Suddenly his expression was very bleak. "In all the time we were together," he said sadly, "she never once told me she loved me."

Odo actually found himself feeling sorry for the man. After all, he knew what it was like. "If it's any consolation," he replied, "I have no idea."

"I remember a conversation we had once, a long time ago," Shakaar went on. "I was actually asking you for advice on whether I should - tell Nerys how I felt about her or not? And you said that - what you would do was – be patient?"

"As you can see," Odo replied as Kira came up behind him and linked her arm through his "that's exactly what I did."

"You did what?" asked Kira.

"I did nothing. For far too long," he replied, meaningfully.

As they turned to leave, Kira hung back a little." "I'm sorry, Edon," she said, "but you see how it is."

"I see," he replied. "Don't worry, Nerys. I'm - happy for you."

And the leader, the hero, the man with great charisma could only stand alone in the crowd and watch as she left the scene with the stranger, the loner, the outcast, the enemy - the one she loved.