Chapter 2

If you want you can get to know me well
We get along so we shouldn't argue
And I don't know, said I don't know
All these feelings, cloud up my reasoning
Cloud up my reasoning.

matchbox 20, "Argue"

Oh, not again....

Ezri took a slow, deep breath, bracing herself against the armrests of her chair. This was getting ridiculous. It hadn't even been ten minutes since they'd left Deep Space Nine, and already her stomach felt like it was turning summersaults. She even thought she felt Dax shiver grumpily inside her at the nausea.

Seated to her right, Julian flicked a glance in her direction but didn't say anything. Piloting the U.S.S. Niabrara out of Bajor's solar system was an engrossing task, thankfully; he didn't have time to ask her any potentially embarrassing questions. Or, she amended, if he did, he was being kind enough to ignore it. There was a hypospray in the back, he'd made sure she knew where it was, and that was all she asked of him at this point.

Ezri didn't want to resort to medication just yet. Keeping her breaths slow and even, she tried to focus her mind on something else. It was almost funny, she thought, how fast Kira had passed their leave request and tumbled them into the first runabout available. There had been a glimmer of frazzled relief in the colonel's eyes and voice when Ezri announced their plans to go to Trillian together. An interesting reaction, Ezri's counselor side noted. Perhaps Kira, in dealing with grief over her own lost relationship with Constable Odo, felt the need to see at least some of her friends having luck with romance. Which might be considered intrusive to a certain extent, but it was something Ezri was willing to accept for Nerys' sake. Even if it put extra pressure on both Julian and Ezri to keep their relationship stable. Did Julian notice Kira's enthusiasm...?

The runabout turned gently to starboard, bringing another wave of queasiness. Ezri groaned.

Julian looked at her longer this time, betraying his concern. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Fine."

"All right." He returned his attention to the helm with some effort.

Really convincing, Ezri. Abruptly, she sat straight. "Actually, no – I'm uncomfortable."

Julian blinked at her. "What do you mean?"

Ezri wore a bright smile as she turned to him. She pulled at her collar. "Um, the – the uniform, I mean – it's getting uncomfortable. You know, they've always been so restrictive. Don't you think so? I think so. I'm going to go in the back and change."

"O... kay," Julian said after a long beat. It looked like he was trying to decide what her motives were, and Ezri found herself desperately praying he wouldn't take it as suggestive flirting. Fortunately, he only seemed perplexed. "I'll just stay up here, then."

"Great," she said cheerfully, jumping from her seat. She tried not to walk too fast as she left the cockpit. "Back in a moment."

Once she was safely out of sight in the runabout's cabin, Ezri allowed herself a small, frustrated sigh. Her stomach lurched again, and she leaned on the doorframe, swallowing hard. Her space sickness always had the happy tendency to assert itself in awkward moments, and the situation at the helm had been no help. The Defiant's abrupt movements were bad enough, but runabouts could sometimes be worse. They never failed to bring up lingering memories of the shuttles Torias Dax had flown in his days as an Azure Guard test pilot.

And that, of course, could lead to memories of his last moments if she wasn't careful. Torias had been sitting in the seat to port side of his small craft, watching the stars streak across the viewscreen, just before an explosion had claimed his life. The blinding flash of that memory was still so strong in Dax's mind that on some occasions, Ezri found sitting on the port side of a runabout's helm almost unbearable.

This was one of those times.

Sitting on the bunk, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply for a moment. Julian would have promptly switched seats if she'd asked, Ezri knew. But she hadn't, and she didn't plan to. If she asked, Julian would want to know why and Ezri would have to tell him, and seeing the blend of embarrassment and protective sympathy in his eyes would only make her feel worse.

And such was the story of their relationship thus far, Dax thought wryly.

But I've made a decision to change that. She tried to inject confidence into the thought. Her travel bag lay on the floor next to the bunk, and she stared at it morosely. There was something tucked inside the bag, an old heirloom of past Hosts that she'd dug up on impulse just before they'd left. It was for both of them, her and Julian, and with any luck it would clear the air of any lingering doubts.

Now if she could only gather up the courage to tell him.

*****

"And here I thought we were past the uncomfortable pauses stage," Julian mumbled. In the empty cockpit, his voice fell a little flat.

Shaking his head, he sat back in his chair. This wasn't the first time this week that Ezri had seemed distant and preoccupied. The stiffness to their conversation made him a bit uneasy – and at the same time, guilty for feeling uneasy. From the sound of things, Ezri had a lot on her mind. It wasn't fair to blame her for not being herself, with this vaguely ominous Declaration hanging over her head.

Yet it felt like there was something else to Ezri's discomfort, and Julian hadn't the faintest idea what that was. Ironic, that he would know this woman for a year and be closer to her than ever, and still have no insight into what went on in her head. Was she upset about their friends leaving? Was she thinking about Worf, or perhaps Captain Sisko? Was she trying to grasp some kind of meaning from the war that had just ended?

Was she thinking about him?

Julian tipped his head back. The stars went by outside the viewport, and he let his vision focus along the gliding tunnel of motion they made. It was pointless to wonder what particular complex inner argument Ezri was grappling with, he decided. It could be any or all of the things he'd guessed at, or something entirely different. They all had secret thoughts of their own these days. If anything, the counselor was more apt to be wondering about Julian's state of mind, not the other way around.

So he understood if she wasn't very talkative. It didn't help his own nagging doubts, but he could deal with that.

His thoughts drifted, as they tended to do along this train of thought. Everything had been so abrupt, a rapid-fire sequence of events over the course of a few short months. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he had a memory of arriving at DS9 seven years ago, brimming with enthusiasm, eager to rebuild a world and begin one of his own. Brash, idealistic, full of spectacular, arrogant confidence.

Those early years – in his mind, they slipped by like moments. It all came hurtling down to now.

The war had closed in around the station. At almost the same stroke, the secret of his genetic enhancements had been blown wide open. Section 31 had made its appearance to him soon after, shattering yet another ideal. And through everything, he kept seeing the parade of casualties march through the Infirmary, and all he could do was patch them up so they could get blown to bits again by some Dominion cruiser.

Then Jadzia had died. Cruelly, without dignity, without reason. For a long time, that young man who'd come to the station looking for a brighter future was gone. What was left was duty, and not much else.

He had just acclimated himself to the colder realities of the universe when Ezri Dax arrived on Deep Space Nine, painfully young and carrying a burden she was still trying to understand. She was the most welcome change, though she was one of the most drastic ones. Was it only days ago that he saw the petite stranger flitting through the crowded Promenade? She seemed so young and so different that he thought that there was no way she could have been Jadzia's successor, but when she turned and looked right at him with those stunning blue eyes, there was no mistaking her for anyone other than Dax – and a lot of very difficult memories were forced to the surface.

The wound of Jadzia's death still fresh, his first instinct had been to keep her at arm's length. And even after friendship had quickly developed, seeing traces of Jadzia in the way Ezri moved and spoke was hard to deal with. It was a constant struggle to keep that ghost out of the way, try to see Ezri for who she was and let her fight her battles for herself.

Needless to say, falling in love with her had been one of the most frightening things he'd ever done. Even after they'd put their feelings out in the open and decided to begin a relationship, there were a lot of uncertainties that he barely knew how to approach. He often found both of them avoiding sensitive topics to keep things smooth between them, and sometimes that bothered him. There were still so many unanswered questions.

But he knew he loved her, with an intensity that approached fascination. More than anything, he wanted this to work.

Now, as unbelievable as it was, the war was over. They'd survived, and they had a moment of calm where they could at least try to sort things out. Julian smiled to himself. They'd made it this far. Maybe there was a chance to go about things again – a little wiser, a little battle-scarred, but still retaining hope.

Soon enough, Julian's pensive thoughts fell to the side. Ezri still hadn't returned. Perhaps fifteen minutes passed in easy silence before he began to wonder what she was doing. Changing clothes couldn't be taking this long, not with Ezri's practical style. He waited a few minutes longer, then did a quick check of the helm and put the runabout on autopilot. She had a marked history of nausea on runabouts, and if that was the problem here, it would be shameful for DS9's chief medical officer to lounge about up front and not do anything about it.

He reached the door to the runabout's tiny cabin and stopped abruptly. Ezri wasn't sick. She hadn't gone much further than removing her jacket and turtleneck, as far as changing went. She was pacing, oblivious to his presence, muttering something to herself over and over as if practicing a presentation of some sort. She held two small objects, and she fuddled with them as she moved, unable to keep her hands still. Julian only indulged his confusion for a moment before stepping back out of view and discretely coughing as he pretended to be just entering the room.

Even so, Ezri almost jumped out of her skin when she heard him. "Julian!" she yelped. "Gods...."

He couldn't hold back a smile this time. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. What, um... what are you up to?"

"Uh..." she stammered. She put her hands behind her back, both to try for a nonchalant pose and to hide whatever it was she held. Then she seemed to change her mind, and displayed the objects in front of her, taking a steadying breath. They were two small, white boxes, one slightly larger than the other. "Well, I'd hoped I could give this to you later, but I think I'll lose my nerve if I wait any longer. This is for you." She handed the larger box to him.

"Thank you," he said, pleased and a little taken aback. "What is it?"

"Open it and see," she said predictably, grinning. He smirked a little and opened the box. Nestled in the plush fabric lining was a thin but heavy chain of some silvery copper metal. A half-silver, half-copper octagonal charm with a Trill hieroglyph on one side hung from the chain. At the bottom of the charm was a copper loop to match the silver one on top, meaning it could be worn several different ways. Puzzled, Julian pulled it from the box and examined it. It looked old, almost antique, and it was a fine piece of work – but what about it was making Ezri blush?

Dax waved him over to sit on the one small stool, then sat across from him on the bunk. "It's a pledge chain," she said, and suddenly the necklace felt just a tad heavier to Julian. Shyly, Ezri dropped her gaze to the floor, then made herself meet his eyes. "I hope I'm not being too forward."

Julian took a moment to steady himself before replying. "Well, how forward is it, exactly?" he said, keeping his voice light. "What does it mean?"

The request offered the refuge of impartial explanation, and Ezri accepted it eagerly. She opened the other box and showed him the same charm on the same necklace, scaled down to a feminine style. "Okay. It's a bit of an old tradition – nothing as serious as exchanging rings like Humans do. At least, not this way. See, if you wear the plain side with the silver up, it means soul-friends – someone you would trust to walk into the Pits of Armak with, but nothing past that. Worn the way I strung it – with the carved side out and the silver up – it means you and that person are 'involved.'" She turned the charm over in her fingers. "Worn with the plain side out, and the copper up, it means that you and that person are engaged. With the carved side out, and the copper on top...." She turned the shade of a command uniform. "That means married."

"Oh." Married. A few years earlier, and the idea would have been unthinkable. But then again, a few years earlier, Ezri Dax would have been unthinkable. Julian smiled at her, curious. "I never saw Jadzia or Worf wearing one of these."

Despite her embarrassment, Ezri grinned wickedly. "That's because Jadzia and Worf preferred the Klingon way. They shared a ceremonial par'machai blade. Worf took it with him, or I'd show you. Blood all over the thing."

It was Julian's turn to blush. "I'll...um...take your word on it, Ezri. Besides, this looks far saner."

She looked like she might agree with that. Then she hugged her arms to her waist and looked at him with a half-eager, half-uncertain expression that warmed him to the bottom of his heart. "I'm going too fast, aren't I? I'm sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfor—"

His hands closing over hers stopped the contrite words short. Holding her gaze, Julian slipped Ezri's charm from her fingers and looped it around her neck, settling it in place with gentle care. She held still, watching his movements with clear eyes, then took his necklace and did the same for him. For a moment, the little ritual was solemn and touching.

Then she smiled sheepishly, and the moment passed. Julian grinned back and gave her a light hug before releasing her. "See now, that wasn't so hard."

"No. I guess not." There was still a slight color to her face, but her expression was easier. Julian moved across the small space to sit next to her on the bunk, and she didn't seem to object. They were very close but not facing each other, and it helped. For the moment, they'd reached a tentative common ground.

When she spoke again, there was a meditative quality to her tone, a sense that she was taking care with the words she chose. "I don't know why I picked now. I wasn't sure how you'd react, and... I'm still not quite sure how you see all of this."

Julian replied with the same caution. "You mean, you wonder if I'm still in love with her."

He didn't need to say who "she" was. It was somewhat of a mutual agreement that kept talk of Jadzia to a minimum. All the same, it was surprising how relieved he was to finally put that thought into words.

"That's part of it," she admitted. "Though I don't worry about that so much anymore."

"Good," he said firmly. "You shouldn't have to."

She made a soft sound of agreement. "I've been through that before. There was a lot of substitution between Worf and I at first. I'm just glad he – and I – figured everything out before too much damage was done."

"Or before you lost the chance," he said. "With everything that was going on, it was no time to leave things unsaid."

"I know." She looked at him for a moment, her expression serious. "We've both had to make a lot of decisions based on not knowing if we'd be alive the next morning, Julian. And now that it's over, part of me wonders if it's fair to you to go so fast."

So that was it. Julian smiled; out in the open, the fear was much easier to face. "This was my choice as much as yours, Ezri. You know that."

"I know," she said. Her expression softened, and she touched the chain of her necklace. "That's why I wanted you to have this. There are a lot of old memories to face, and it might not be very easy, but I just wanted you to know. I'm not giving up."

"Neither am I." Julian felt better already. He grinned at her. "Especially with two weeks' vacation in a tropical resort to start things off."

Ezri laughed, giving him a pointed look. "Slowly, Julian. One day at a time."

He pulled a straight face. "Sounds like fine advice, Counselor."