Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters are the property of Paramount

Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters are the property of Paramount. No infringement is intended nor has any money been made.

Rating: PG

Summary: Julian and Jadzia chat about their ever-changing relationship over a bottle of very strong alcohol.

Note: Takes place in the sixth season of DS9 shortly before "You are Cordially Invited…" This story is dedicated to my bestest bud, Alastair. :o)

The 'You' in Hurt.

By

N[rthernStar

"You, me and destiny, guess that it was never meant to be…" My Selfish Gene, Catatonia.

"That looks like Yannica!"

Bashir looked up at Jadzia, who leaned over his shoulder so far he could smell the faint musk her spots excreted as a natural sunscreen. "It is."

"I haven't seen a bottle of that in over a hundred and fifty years, where did you get it from?" She picked up the slender green bottle with a great deal of reverence.

"Do you remember that Izzary trader who owed me latinum from a Domjot game?"

She nodded.

"Well, he gave me this instead."

"Curzon spent his whole life searching for a bottle. One of his only regrets when he died was that he never found one." She looked at him, "are you going to open it?"

Actually he'd been thinking of selling it to Quark but from the first moment he'd met her and every moment since, he couldn't refuse her anything. "If I don't have to drink alone?"

She'd pulled up a chair even before he finished the sentence. "May I?" She held out her hands for the bottle.

"Let me guess," he smiled as he relinquished the bottle, "never opening some Yannica was another thing Curzon regretted?"

She matched his grin with one of her own as she stripped the foil from the cork and began undoing the wire. Her face took on a look of pure alcoholic lust. Worthy of the most hardened drinker.

He was impressed.

She made a small 'eek' of surprise when the cork popped off with a sudden pop. She sniffed the contents of the bottle and grinned.

"It's even better than I thought."

Bashir tapped the glasses in front of them and she poured out two measures. He picked his glass up and was about to swallow it down in one gulp when she grabbed his arm, stopping the movement of his hand to his mouth. "Why are men always in such a hurry?" she asked, "something like this needs to be savoured."

He decided to ignore the slur she inflicted on his entire sex and watched as she lifted her own glass and swirled the reddish liquid around, admiring the colour and clarity of the wine. Then she sniffed it, eyes closed, with a blissed out expression on her face.

He was about to ask her if she was ever going to drink it when she delicately sipped a little into her mouth.

Julian felt his own mouth go dry at the sight of delicate lips moving and the hint of her tongue slipping out to lick them.

Jadzia shivered in delight. "Mmmm…." She arched her back in pleasure; "I can taste it all the way down…"

He cleared his throat, wishing it wasn't so damned hot in here.

Julian swallowed a mouthful of Yannica, trying to drag his mind out of his trousers. WHY did she have to be so….sexual. Even while she was doing normal, ordinary things like drinking.

Why did she have to be Worf's?

Why hadn't he felt she was worth risking their friendship over?

And why the hell did this wine have to be so good?

Jadzia refilled their glasses, laughing quietly as she told Julian some tales of Curzon's exploits in his life-long search for a bottle of Yannica. It had been a long quest and the bottle's contents went down and down during the tale.

"The closest he ever got was on Minnara Three…" her eyes went distant for a moment, "in an auction. He lost out to a Romulan…but only because he was…unwell at the time."

Bashir frowned, not understanding.

"Romulan's are very energetic!"

Julian choked on his drink. She looked up at him over her glass, her eyes sly. "As you know…."

He frowned, not understanding.

"Shellar?" She prompted him, "or have you forgotten her name already?"

The name still stabbed at his gut and he knew his attempts to cover his shock were lousy. Shellar had hurt him…badly, and Dax knew that. It wasn't like her to be thoughtless or cruel.

But then, it was really strong liquor.

"I haven't forgotten her." He snapped.

She looked perplexed by his anger and a silence fell between them.

"Julian?"

Oh my God, she doesn't know. He realised.

He took another gulp of wine and refilled their glasses. The Trill watched him, frowning.

"Julian?" She asked again.

Bashir swallowed the contents of his glass in one go and stared at the table. She was waiting for an answer, one he'd never give if he were sober.

But he wasn't…and she'd asked.

"Don't you…" he began quietly, then he straightened up in his chair and said more strongly, "didn't you think that maybe I don't want to be reminded of her?"

Jadzia thought of the quiet half-Romulan they'd befriended two years ago and of the suddenness of her departure back to her homeworld.

"I just…" she began, "after she left, you liked talking about her."

"I was…" he rubbed his thumb on the edge of his glass, "I talked about her then because I…I wanted to find out if you knew why she left…what it was that I did…"

"But I thought she was just one of-"

"I loved her."

She froze in place. The words tumbling in her mind. Julian had loved Shellar? But they'd been friends! All three of them, joking and laughing and yes, she'd known Shellar had taken Julian to her bed, but he'd never shown any of the signs of being in love with her.

"Did you?" She found herself asking, surprised by the tone of disbelief in her own voice.

"Jadzia…" he asked, quietly, "why is it that you never believe me capable of loving anyone?"

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" There was a bitter edge to his voice, "you never believed me capable of loving you."

"When I…our friendship…it wasn't like-"

"Yes it was."

"Julian…"

"And if I was to say I love you now, what would you think?"

"I'd think that it's the drink talking, and I'd be right!"

"What if I was to say I've loved you from the first time I laid eyes on you and every moment since?"

Jadzia stared at him angrily; "I'd tell you not to say those things. It's not fair."

"Fair!" He laughed, "I've been more than fair to you. Ignored it when you've patronised me, forgiven you when you've abused our friendship for some little thing."

"I have never…" She trailed off, knowing his accusation for the truth, if not all of the truth. Yes, she had sometimes been less than a good friend…but always for a good reason. "Julian, I'm sorry."

Another silence fell between them, long and uncomfortable. He continued to fill their glasses when they were emptied as they drank to fill the quiet.

Jadzia took the time to study him. He'd come a long way since they'd first arrived on the station, grown up, grown confident, grown strong…

Grown away from her…

How many times had they worked together, like they used too, in the last couple of years? Three? Four times at most. And how many times had they just had dinner or a drink without Worf or Kira?

Where had their friendship gone too?

She'd been so determined to protect it from complications what she'd ended up with was a gulf so wide between them that at this moment, it felt almost as if they could never cross it.

And the worst of it was, she hadn't realised what she'd done until now.

She took his hand; "you are such a good friend, Julian."

He met her eyes, stared straight into them. "And that's all we ever will be now, isn't it?"

She looked down, not wanting to answer but knowing he hadn't asked a rhetorical question.

And knowing that he deserved an answer.

"Yes."

He was silent for a long time and then… "I think…" he sighed, asking himself if he really wanted to say this. "I think we would have been good together."

Jadzia smiled, "I think maybe…you're right."

Another silence fell, but neither continued the conversation. They'd been honest and truthful.

But that was that, and they didn't want to go there.

******

Bashir held up the bottle and surveyed the last remaining measure and then glanced at their glasses. Both as empty as the other and there wasn't really enough left for them both.

"So who gets the last drink?" He slurred.

"It's your bottle, you have it."

"But that would be…un-gentlemanly. Ladies…" He frowned, "last?" Somehow that didn't sound right.

"First." She corrected as he poured the last dregs into her glass. She picked up her drink and carefully tipped half into Julian's empty glass. It was no more than a dribble in the bottom. "We can share it." Then she held out her drink.

"To friendship." She declared.

Bashir smiled and clinked his glass to hers. "Friendship."

Then the pair looked at each other and burst out laughing.

******

She had to lean heavily on Bashir's arm to walk, but they managed to get themselves to the Habitat Ring without assistance. Quite a feat considering the amount of alcohol in their systems.

When they got to Jadzia's quarters, Julian opened the door for her and she stumbled inside. He watched her collapse onto the sofa.

"Thank you…for tonight, and the wine…" She smiled.

"My pleasure." He said and went to leave.

"Julian?"

He turned.

"Shellar…she didn't want anyone to know but…" she looked down, "but I think you should. She was…betrothed to a Vulcan…and she left because of the Ponn-Farr."

He opened his mouth to reply and closed it again. Then he nodded.

"Thank you."

"And I'm glad we had…we spent some time together," a smile touched her lips, "it's been too long."

"Yeah…Good night, Jadzia."

"Goodnight, Julian."

~~END~~

© T S "N[RTHERN STAR" FENN