Title: My Happy Ending

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: We all know very well what a strong, formidable woman Kira Nerys is, especially at the end of WYLB. This is Kira centered, very angsty, and lots of Odo/Kira.

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN STAR TREK: DS9. No money is being made, no copyright infringement intended.

Chapter One: Undiscovered

(Kira POV)

I'm back at the station, 'alive and well,' as everyone keeps putting it. I'm in my quarters, sitting cross legged on my bed. Everyone's still out celebrating the end of the war against the Dominion, out on the holodeck what with all the dancing and singing and well...in a way I'm glad Odo insisted on parting like this. There were so many people offering their congratulations and requests to hear the story as to how I escaped near execution and to be honest, I only remember about one out of every five people who came to shake my hand tonight. Seemed like every god damned person on the station was at that party.

I rub my eyes with the back of my hand in a world-weary manner. Even though we won the fight, I still feel as if I'm losing an entirely different battle.

Odo...

I think his name and an image of his smooth, handsome face briefly flashes through my mind, followed by several others in quick succession. Right now, this man is gathering all the odds and ends in his quarters that he wants me to keep, and he should be back any moment. Another reason to not lose my composure now.

Damn. My bottom lip trembles at the prospect of him leaving willingly. Leaving everything he spent the better part of his life building, leaving his friends...and me. A salty tear dribbles down my cheek and rolls over my lips. Damn, damn, damn. Another tear follows, and then another, and another...Great, now I'm sobbing. Small, strangled, god-forsaken sounds ripping past the lump in my throat.

Prophets, help me.

I hold my knees to my chest, and rock myself back and forth as I did during particularly hard nights during the Occupation, and I wonder if Odo's hurting the way I am. My stomach is flip-flopping around, and my head is spinning, who knew that loving someone could cause such discomfort? I'm still crying, and I've given up on trying to hold it all in.

Because I'd decided to unleash the storm of emotions inside me, I missed the mechanical door chime and then the footsteps that followed.

"Nerys?"

I turned and glanced at the source of the voice, and then stared at the floor. I saw the raw pain in his blue eyes before he moved to put the box of things down on the floor. With a pang I realize that this could in no way be any easier for him than it is for me. Guilt grips my heart and I reinforce my respect for my Changeling lover. Of all the selfish, ungrateful, stupid---

"Nerys, you're crying..." His gravelly, wonderfully masculine voice rumbled through my limp body. I want to kiss him and punch him, in that order. The indentation in the matress tells me that he's now sitting beside me. "I'm not cyring." I say rather tersely, despite my tears.

He takes one of my hands in his cool one. I finally look at him in the eyes, and for a moment I forget about everything else and allow myself to enjoy our proximity. He's close enough for me to lean over and just plant one on him, right over the mouth. His other hand is coming up to caress my cheek, but then he falters, and I smile in what I hope is a reassuring way. My free hand brings his to my damp cheek, and he wipes my tears away. I tense, desire slamming into me from nowhere, and I see it in him too. He leans in to close the distance between our mouths. It starts out beautifully, salty and wet and warm, a kiss that promises so much more.

Good thing we're on my bed already.

As we fall back onto the matress, entwined in each other's arms, I realize that this is the last time I'll ever make love to him.

I don't want you to leave me...

He was gone when I woke up. He left nothing but a short note, written on real paper (I wonder where he got it, we all use PADDS on the station). His handwriting is neat and legible. I'm not surprised, he was--is-- a man who craves order and cleanliness in every aspect of his life.

Dear Nerys,

I realize you must be angry with me. I know the look on your face, the way your eyes narrow and your jaw clenches... You're beautiful. If I waited for you to stir, I would never have been able to leave. I need to do this for my people, and for me. I hope you understand.

L'hanya ti.

Odo

"L'hanya ti." I whisper the phrase in my native language, clutching the note to my chest. I fall back against the pillows and wonder if he's already gone through the wormhole.

I love you.

There are no tears.

TBC

A/N: What do you guys think? Should I continue? Anyway, please leave a review.