THE AGREEMENT
By The Collaborators
***
CHAPTER THREE
***
Kira walked rapidly along the corridor, not looking back to see if he had remained in the doorway. Surely he would not be fool enough to do that? Unless he particularly wanted to annoy her, and he always seemed keen on that. In fact, she could picture him standing there, leaning casually against the doorjamb -- more the gamin than the commander -- just to watch her swing her hips. The thought stoked a new fury in her, fuelled by her recent near-surrender to other feelings entirely. But she would not look back... If she had, she would have seen that the door was indeed closed. She might also have seen an oddly contained, almost sinuous golden liquid slide down the wall and congeal into a familiar form as it touched the next horisontal surface outside Dukat's quarters. Odo rippled into his best semblance of solidity and stood for a while, musing, as Kira disappeared around the corner. He could not but think he had done right in keeping an eye -- or whatever -- on her. She had seemed so preoccupied of late, and he could always tell when something was weighing on her. In most instances she would tell him about it, even ask his advice, and then he would have no need to spy on her. But on those occasions when she did not tell him... He made no bones about spying, not really. It was his job to know things, and he had worked his first long spell in Security under the Cardassians. He was working for them again now. Besides, for all the posturing of Starfleet officers, even Sisko had often thanked him for knowing what would not have been -- humanly -- possible to know. It was his job to know things, but also his nature. There were no secrets among Found... changelings. Granted that he had encountered others of his species late -- and did not particularly like them -- but somehow he had always known. The humanoid taste for secrecy was really alien to him. Perhaps that was why he related so well to Betazoids. They were, after all, the least secretive humanoids he knew -- also for natural reasons.
He found himself still following Kira, walking along the route she had taken, now and then catching a glimpse of her as if to confirm that he was on the right track. He wasn't really thinking about it at first; surveillance had become second nature to him, the human style as well as his own. When he caught on, he realized that he was not doing it just for her. He was concerned for her yes, as always when she seemed troubled -- and if this particular trouble involved Dukat, then she might even have difficulties extricating herself. But Odo knew that he was also looking out for himself. It was always important that nothing happened to Kira, but it had never been more important than now. Now that she knew... now that she had agreed to explore -- or at least discuss -- the possibilities with him, after all this was over... She had, hadn't she? That was what it amounted to? A pale shade of a promise to reevaluate their relationship? He berated himself for hoping again -- his hopes were always too quick to rise... Resolutely, he lengthened his strides. If she was in some kind of trouble with the Cardassian commander, her old friend might be able to help. Dukat had seemed oddly pleased -- that must mean things were going his way, and that could never be good. Purposeful now, Odo followed Kira -- into Quark's of all places.
Fortunately, the barkeep was busy calming a loud customer and did not see him enter. In an instant, Odo was gone from sight, and the furniture slightly augmented.
Kira walked up to the counter, catching Quark on the rebound from his quarrelsome patron.
"Get me something I haven't had before," she said.
Quark spread his hands apologetically. "My supplies are sadly depleted these days," he began. "My transports are being upheld for reasons beyond my..."
Kira's hand smacked flat against the top of the counter, startling the Ferengi. "You've got kanar, haven't you? Sure you must have."
She threw a carelessly disdainful glance over her shoulder at a group of Cardassian soldiers on leave. "So pour me some, and be quick about it, you little troll!"
Quark looked at her, noting the slightly slurred words, the wine on her breath. "Are you quite sure, Major?"
An empty chair suddenly rose from its table, becoming something else in the process. Odo concluded his materialization at Kira's elbow. "No, she's not," he told Quark, who nodded understanding. "I thought as much."
Kira spun around, her eyes hot peppers, threatening mayhem. "And who appointed you my personal guardian? Weyoun?"
Odo closed his eyes briefly, an oddly humanoid expression of sharp pain.
*Still*, he thought, *still*, after what the Founders did to me, and after all my time as a human...
But he knew he was not being fair. She never would have said such a thing, had she been sober and untroubled. She did not mean it, she had only lashed out with something that could not fail to sting. The pain was shuddered -- rippled -- off in an instant, and only Quark noticed it.
"You've just proved my point, Major," Odo said firmly, his voice only a little raspier than usual. "You don't want kanar. If you expect to be up and on duty tomorrow, you'll allow me to see you safely to your quarters now."
He could see she was about to refuse. Then her eyes came to rest on Quark. The Ferengi was doing his best to melt into the background, but he was no shapeshifter. His inquisitive eyes and overlarge ears were all too much in evidence. Kira relented.
"As you wish, Constable," she said, suddenly as docile as she had been belligerent before. On his barstool, Morn turned slowly around to watch them go, his eyes strangely sad -- or perhaps just bleary.
* * * *
Odo walked her to her quarters in silence.
Outside them, as she stopped to thank him civilly enough, he finally brought it up: "Major, if there's anything troubling you..." he began, his voice so low as to rasp worse than ever.
"I'm fine, thanks," she clipped back, instantly back on her guard.
He did not know yet what had caused this sudden barrier between them, but he was determined to find out. "Major, please let me help. I'm your friend, remember? That's one thing that hasn't changed with the new regime. Now, if you're somehow in trouble with Dukat..."
He got no further. "I had dinner with him, that's all!" she yelled at him. "I didn't know that constitutes a crime in your book -- *Constable!*"
Odo leant back as if from a gale. The fierceness of her protest set off alarm klaxons all through his deductive mind -- loud enough for her to hear, apparently...
"I'm sorry, Odo," she amended, a little too quickly for his taste. "It's just -- the burden of diplomacy, you might say. It gets a bit much sometimes."
She smiled suddenly. "It never was my strong point, you'll be the first to agree."
He wanted to take her in his arms, to comfort her. But it hurt him that she was so obviously back to hiding things from him.
In the end, he just bowed stiffly. "I think we have seen quite enough evidence of that tonight, Major."
* * * *
The next morning found Kira pacing angrily in her quarters, thinking about Dukat and their first attempt at dinner together. He'd done it again -- he'd flustered her again, caused her to publicly lose her composure, her sense of control. And the bastard had seen it all and had savored it, every minute of it. No more would she meet him in his territory, with a frightened look on her face and uncertainty in her every movement. No, she would never let herself fall into that trap again. The next round of this prey-predator game would be hers. The image of Odo rose unbidden to her mind. She knew she had been harsh with him again, and she regretted it, she had not meant to bite his head off. Why was it that he always seemed to be around in her worst moments, to catch the brunt of her wrath? Maybe because he was always around, period. Funny how she was only now beginning to notice, now that she knew... Prophets, what had she said to him? Above all, why? Why had she suddenly felt she needed to defend her actions to him? Well, it wasn't the first time. In a way, he had always acted as her guardian -- her conscience even. Small wonder, she thought, if he was in love with me all this time... Somehow, that did not make his watchful gaze any more bearable. The only thing that had, momentarily, alleviated matters was finding out about the three innocent Bajorans, wrongfully executed during Odo's former tenure under Cardassian rule. She had been appalled, yes, but also relieved. Some part of her must have been convinced he really was infallible... He did not miss much, though. Had she aroused his suspicions last night? There I go again, she thought, suspicions of what? I do have the right to dine with whomever I please -- or not -- without clearing it with the Constable first...
Don't I?
* * * *
Kira spent half an hour planning, and then she sent Dukat an invitation for dinner that very same evening. If it appeared as if she were eager for his company, so be it. He should know better and probably did, not that it would keep him from teasing her about it. This time the meal was to be taken in Kira's quarters, on her ground as it were. It wasn't until she heard his delighted acceptance over the monitor that she realized that he hadn't really been in her quarters before -- not as a guest... The last time he had intruded upon her privacy here -- to discuss the then dying Ghemor -- she had thrown him out by sending a cup past his ear. Too bad it had missed. And the first time... she remembered how he had unexpectedly shown up, as a mere freighter captain, to pick up her bags. The first time ever that he had been in here, it had been in the capacity of servant. Good.
The menu did not take much preparation. All was set by the time her door chimed. As she went to answer it, she added the final touch by removing her jacket and throwing it over a chair in passing.
"Ah, I see you took my advice, Major," he greeted her appreciatively as she let him in. "Much more comfortable, isn't it?"
His eyes traveled all over her in a way that angered her immensely and made her all hot and bothered at the same time. She was determined not to let him confuse her again -- and yet she did nothing to clear his path as he brushed past her. This was becoming a habit. In his presence, her body was always betraying her mind, and he seemed to count on it, curse him.
But her gaze never wavered from his as she said, "I doubt you set much store by your own advice, Dukat. Considering that you haven't followed it yourself." She eyed his habitual armour, in place as always. "Or do you expect me to stab you in the back?"
"I make a point of never underestimating you, Major," he said lightly, his eyes glittering. "Although in your case I could have hoped for a more frontal attack. What I meant was, comfortable for *you*. After all, I have no complaints about the temperature -- not since we were able to repair the environmental controls."
Since she was already visibly seething, he added, "Of course, if you insist, I shall gladly accommodate you -- next time. I'm sorry I did not bring a change of clothes..."
Well, that did it. She no longer felt slightly silly about what she was going to do.
The bowls were already on the table, rapidly cooling.
"Shall we?" she said by way of invitation. "I'm afraid it won't stay hot very long..."
She sat down, and so did he -- on opposite ends of the table, for she had placed the bowls as far apart as possible.
The two bowls and a coarse, wooden spoon each, were the only items laid out.
"Ahh -- memories," Kira said, closing her eyes and pretending to relish the watery contents of her bowl. "Don't you like it? It's standard Cardassian fare on this station. At least it used to be -- don't tell me you have changed the tradition? Or didn't the Cardassians have this soup themselves? Back in the good old days?"
She had thought he would flare at the insult. In fact, she was preparing for a fight as she spoke. But the eruption did not come, and as she looked up, he was calmly eating the soup, and she could have sworn he was not even doing it to save face.
"Next, you're going to tell me you like it," she said, dropping her own pretense to that effect.
He smiled a little -- a strange smile, not his usual teasing one. "I've had worse. Much worse -- and considerably less."
She stared at him, unbelieving. What was he trying to pull now?
He finished the bowl, calmly if not enthusiastically.
"Have you ever been in a Cardassian prison, Major?" he asked conversationally. "A State prison on Prime, I mean -- not the labour camps."
She glared sullenly at her soup, then put her handcrafted spoon away, her triumph spoiled.
"Are you telling me you have?" she muttered.
"Is that so hard to believe, Major? Granted, it might seem unusual to a Bajoran, but both Terran and Cardassian history is full of the grand feats of leaders who went from the dungeons to the throne -- usually on a long and tortuous path. Does that disturb you? Did you really think suffering was a Bajoran prerogative?"
It did disturb her. Oddly not so much because he had taken the edge off her little scheme -- again -- but because she did not like the image of him as a prisoner, starved, perhaps tortured by his own people. It was acutely unpleasant, and she did not bother to analyze her reaction. Whether it was that he had approved the treatment of Bajor, fully knowing its meaning, or that she was so used to seeing him in a position of power that she had come to expect, even *want* him to stay there, as someone to do battle with, not to pity - or if it could be that she no longer wanted to see him hurt... she did not know, and right then she did not care. She just wanted the image to go away.
And then something occurred to her. She did not think he was lying, because she had found that he rarely told outright lies and never without reason; he was much more fond of tripping others up on the inconsistencies of their own statements -- but she just had to ask.
"I thought death was the only punishment on Cardassia, and 'guilty' the only verdict."
He folded his hands loosely in front of his chin, elbows on table. "I was awaiting trial and execution of course."
"For what?" she asked, but her eagerness for some sort of hold on him was a little too plain on her face, and he just smiled.
"Those were restless times. Let's say I was... too controversial for comfort. Even then."
"How did you get out of it? You can't very well have talked your way out... not on Cardassia."
He gave her a quick glance, full of mock reproval. "The rules changed. There was a change of regime -- a coup if you will, and as is usual on such occasions, all political prisoners were set free."
Quickly, she added up the information in her head. "You mean, the *civilian* government freed you?"
He smiled noncommittally. "There have been many coups on Cardassia Prime, Major."
She stared absently at her spoon. To think that she could have been rid of him all these years... but in such a way? Granted, she would not have known, but now the image haunted her. She had often wanted to see him dead -- but not subdued, not demeaned, not...
Almost furiously, she stared at her spoon for so long that he found an easy way both to break the silence and change the subject.
"Your people are good artisans," he said. "Those spoons are well carved with simple means. How long have you had them?"
Suffering -- a Bajoran prerogative... did he mean to imply *she* was the arrogant one? "Too long," she said abruptly, flinging her spoon at the recycler -- and missing.
Probably just as well. She would have regretted it tomorrow.
He stood and came around to her side. For a moment she thought he was about to take her hands in his, but he stopped just short of touching her, as always.
"May I suggest we end this silly game," he said, but his voice was gentle. "Why don't we consider this -- traditional -- dish a somewhat sentimental precourse and follow it with a proper meal? Leave the past, Major. If only for tonight, I beg you."
He sounded so sincere -- but then he was always good at that.
Suddenly tired of looking for five hidden motives behind every word he spoke, she nodded.
"Just give me a minute, I'll coax something better out of the replicator."
"No, Major," he said, remaining in her way as she tried to rise. "Let's have it in my quarters. The lighting is more -- romantic, shall we say?"
He smiled wickedly. "I promise to take off my armour..."
She did not really think the lighting in her quarters was bright enough to hurt his eyes -- it was slightly modified, but on the whole, she had to live with Cardassian environmental controls too. Nor could he mean what he seemed to be saying -- he was, after all, Cardassian. No, she was pretty sure he simply felt that the ambiance of her quarters had been ruined.
For her own part, she felt it keenly.
She answered in kind, "I'll hold you to that promise, Dukat."
Her attempt at double entendre was not lost on him -- of course -- and she could see it delighted him.
"I'll give you your minute, Major," he said. "But only to let me return to my quarters ahead of you. It might not be advisable to let certain parties see us together."
After he left, she was wondering what he meant by 'certain parties'.
His men? The Jem'Hadar? Weyoun?
Her door chimed, and she went distractedly to answer it, thinking he had come back to warn her about something or other. Perhaps their dinner was off...
She stared at Odo full ten seconds before realizing it was him.
"Anyone might think you had seen a ghost, Major," he rasped. "I assure you, I am quite real. If not exactly -- solid."
He cursed himself inwardly for the feeble joke.
On the other hand, there was nothing unusual about his shape at the moment, and she did look as if he were the last person she had expected to see. It seemed reasonable to assume that she had expected someone else.
Someone he had just seen leaving, perhaps?
"Odo?" she said, finding her voice. "What did you want?"
His keen perceptions told him she was making an effort not to sound curt. She had not really succeeded. He took in her state of undress, as he thought of it. Much as he relished the rare occasions when she would leave her jacket behind - especially since his spell as a human -- he found it a cause of worry now. Could Dukat have brought her to this? Suddenly, it all fell into place. Her obvious concern for Jake, her preoccupation after their discussion, her -- 'dinner' with Dukat... it stabbed Odo to the quick, and yet he knew she had done it for nothing but sheer, stubborn, Bajoran altruism. Damn, why couldn't she have talked to him about it first? Of all the silly plans -- as if it would get her any way at all with Dukat, as if it could buy Jake two minutes of freedom...
He had been planning to use some reports as a pretext, but pretexts no longer mattered. "I wanted to see how you were, Nerys," he said distinctly. "How are you?"
He wished the question had sounded less inquisitory.
"Fine," she said airily, with a vague wave of her hand. "Why shouldn't I be?"
"You're out of uniform," he observed.
"So what?" She laughed -- a little nervously, he thought. "What with the Cardassian environmental controls..."
"Major," he interrupted before she could become embarrassing even to her own ears, "if there is anything, anything at all troubling you, I want you to tell me. Please."
And maybe she would have at that. At that moment, she quite possibly might have. But his 'please' from habit sounded more like an order than a plea, and the quiet 'Nerys' had changed into the formal 'Major'. She knew he always fell back on his accustomed, authoritative manner when overcome by shyness, but it did not help matters.
"Get out, Constable," she retaliated. "When I need you, you'll be the first to know."
She saw him stiffen and relented instantly. "Odo, I'm sorry. What I mean is, I'm fine, really. But if I'm ever in trouble, I'll call on you. Promise. Please trust me. If something comes up that I can't handle..."
"Can you handle a Cardassian twice your size, Major?" Odo asked, sufficiently beside himself to exaggerate. The ice was back between them.
"It wouldn't be the first time," Kira said.
* * * *
By The Collaborators
***
CHAPTER THREE
***
Kira walked rapidly along the corridor, not looking back to see if he had remained in the doorway. Surely he would not be fool enough to do that? Unless he particularly wanted to annoy her, and he always seemed keen on that. In fact, she could picture him standing there, leaning casually against the doorjamb -- more the gamin than the commander -- just to watch her swing her hips. The thought stoked a new fury in her, fuelled by her recent near-surrender to other feelings entirely. But she would not look back... If she had, she would have seen that the door was indeed closed. She might also have seen an oddly contained, almost sinuous golden liquid slide down the wall and congeal into a familiar form as it touched the next horisontal surface outside Dukat's quarters. Odo rippled into his best semblance of solidity and stood for a while, musing, as Kira disappeared around the corner. He could not but think he had done right in keeping an eye -- or whatever -- on her. She had seemed so preoccupied of late, and he could always tell when something was weighing on her. In most instances she would tell him about it, even ask his advice, and then he would have no need to spy on her. But on those occasions when she did not tell him... He made no bones about spying, not really. It was his job to know things, and he had worked his first long spell in Security under the Cardassians. He was working for them again now. Besides, for all the posturing of Starfleet officers, even Sisko had often thanked him for knowing what would not have been -- humanly -- possible to know. It was his job to know things, but also his nature. There were no secrets among Found... changelings. Granted that he had encountered others of his species late -- and did not particularly like them -- but somehow he had always known. The humanoid taste for secrecy was really alien to him. Perhaps that was why he related so well to Betazoids. They were, after all, the least secretive humanoids he knew -- also for natural reasons.
He found himself still following Kira, walking along the route she had taken, now and then catching a glimpse of her as if to confirm that he was on the right track. He wasn't really thinking about it at first; surveillance had become second nature to him, the human style as well as his own. When he caught on, he realized that he was not doing it just for her. He was concerned for her yes, as always when she seemed troubled -- and if this particular trouble involved Dukat, then she might even have difficulties extricating herself. But Odo knew that he was also looking out for himself. It was always important that nothing happened to Kira, but it had never been more important than now. Now that she knew... now that she had agreed to explore -- or at least discuss -- the possibilities with him, after all this was over... She had, hadn't she? That was what it amounted to? A pale shade of a promise to reevaluate their relationship? He berated himself for hoping again -- his hopes were always too quick to rise... Resolutely, he lengthened his strides. If she was in some kind of trouble with the Cardassian commander, her old friend might be able to help. Dukat had seemed oddly pleased -- that must mean things were going his way, and that could never be good. Purposeful now, Odo followed Kira -- into Quark's of all places.
Fortunately, the barkeep was busy calming a loud customer and did not see him enter. In an instant, Odo was gone from sight, and the furniture slightly augmented.
Kira walked up to the counter, catching Quark on the rebound from his quarrelsome patron.
"Get me something I haven't had before," she said.
Quark spread his hands apologetically. "My supplies are sadly depleted these days," he began. "My transports are being upheld for reasons beyond my..."
Kira's hand smacked flat against the top of the counter, startling the Ferengi. "You've got kanar, haven't you? Sure you must have."
She threw a carelessly disdainful glance over her shoulder at a group of Cardassian soldiers on leave. "So pour me some, and be quick about it, you little troll!"
Quark looked at her, noting the slightly slurred words, the wine on her breath. "Are you quite sure, Major?"
An empty chair suddenly rose from its table, becoming something else in the process. Odo concluded his materialization at Kira's elbow. "No, she's not," he told Quark, who nodded understanding. "I thought as much."
Kira spun around, her eyes hot peppers, threatening mayhem. "And who appointed you my personal guardian? Weyoun?"
Odo closed his eyes briefly, an oddly humanoid expression of sharp pain.
*Still*, he thought, *still*, after what the Founders did to me, and after all my time as a human...
But he knew he was not being fair. She never would have said such a thing, had she been sober and untroubled. She did not mean it, she had only lashed out with something that could not fail to sting. The pain was shuddered -- rippled -- off in an instant, and only Quark noticed it.
"You've just proved my point, Major," Odo said firmly, his voice only a little raspier than usual. "You don't want kanar. If you expect to be up and on duty tomorrow, you'll allow me to see you safely to your quarters now."
He could see she was about to refuse. Then her eyes came to rest on Quark. The Ferengi was doing his best to melt into the background, but he was no shapeshifter. His inquisitive eyes and overlarge ears were all too much in evidence. Kira relented.
"As you wish, Constable," she said, suddenly as docile as she had been belligerent before. On his barstool, Morn turned slowly around to watch them go, his eyes strangely sad -- or perhaps just bleary.
* * * *
Odo walked her to her quarters in silence.
Outside them, as she stopped to thank him civilly enough, he finally brought it up: "Major, if there's anything troubling you..." he began, his voice so low as to rasp worse than ever.
"I'm fine, thanks," she clipped back, instantly back on her guard.
He did not know yet what had caused this sudden barrier between them, but he was determined to find out. "Major, please let me help. I'm your friend, remember? That's one thing that hasn't changed with the new regime. Now, if you're somehow in trouble with Dukat..."
He got no further. "I had dinner with him, that's all!" she yelled at him. "I didn't know that constitutes a crime in your book -- *Constable!*"
Odo leant back as if from a gale. The fierceness of her protest set off alarm klaxons all through his deductive mind -- loud enough for her to hear, apparently...
"I'm sorry, Odo," she amended, a little too quickly for his taste. "It's just -- the burden of diplomacy, you might say. It gets a bit much sometimes."
She smiled suddenly. "It never was my strong point, you'll be the first to agree."
He wanted to take her in his arms, to comfort her. But it hurt him that she was so obviously back to hiding things from him.
In the end, he just bowed stiffly. "I think we have seen quite enough evidence of that tonight, Major."
* * * *
The next morning found Kira pacing angrily in her quarters, thinking about Dukat and their first attempt at dinner together. He'd done it again -- he'd flustered her again, caused her to publicly lose her composure, her sense of control. And the bastard had seen it all and had savored it, every minute of it. No more would she meet him in his territory, with a frightened look on her face and uncertainty in her every movement. No, she would never let herself fall into that trap again. The next round of this prey-predator game would be hers. The image of Odo rose unbidden to her mind. She knew she had been harsh with him again, and she regretted it, she had not meant to bite his head off. Why was it that he always seemed to be around in her worst moments, to catch the brunt of her wrath? Maybe because he was always around, period. Funny how she was only now beginning to notice, now that she knew... Prophets, what had she said to him? Above all, why? Why had she suddenly felt she needed to defend her actions to him? Well, it wasn't the first time. In a way, he had always acted as her guardian -- her conscience even. Small wonder, she thought, if he was in love with me all this time... Somehow, that did not make his watchful gaze any more bearable. The only thing that had, momentarily, alleviated matters was finding out about the three innocent Bajorans, wrongfully executed during Odo's former tenure under Cardassian rule. She had been appalled, yes, but also relieved. Some part of her must have been convinced he really was infallible... He did not miss much, though. Had she aroused his suspicions last night? There I go again, she thought, suspicions of what? I do have the right to dine with whomever I please -- or not -- without clearing it with the Constable first...
Don't I?
* * * *
Kira spent half an hour planning, and then she sent Dukat an invitation for dinner that very same evening. If it appeared as if she were eager for his company, so be it. He should know better and probably did, not that it would keep him from teasing her about it. This time the meal was to be taken in Kira's quarters, on her ground as it were. It wasn't until she heard his delighted acceptance over the monitor that she realized that he hadn't really been in her quarters before -- not as a guest... The last time he had intruded upon her privacy here -- to discuss the then dying Ghemor -- she had thrown him out by sending a cup past his ear. Too bad it had missed. And the first time... she remembered how he had unexpectedly shown up, as a mere freighter captain, to pick up her bags. The first time ever that he had been in here, it had been in the capacity of servant. Good.
The menu did not take much preparation. All was set by the time her door chimed. As she went to answer it, she added the final touch by removing her jacket and throwing it over a chair in passing.
"Ah, I see you took my advice, Major," he greeted her appreciatively as she let him in. "Much more comfortable, isn't it?"
His eyes traveled all over her in a way that angered her immensely and made her all hot and bothered at the same time. She was determined not to let him confuse her again -- and yet she did nothing to clear his path as he brushed past her. This was becoming a habit. In his presence, her body was always betraying her mind, and he seemed to count on it, curse him.
But her gaze never wavered from his as she said, "I doubt you set much store by your own advice, Dukat. Considering that you haven't followed it yourself." She eyed his habitual armour, in place as always. "Or do you expect me to stab you in the back?"
"I make a point of never underestimating you, Major," he said lightly, his eyes glittering. "Although in your case I could have hoped for a more frontal attack. What I meant was, comfortable for *you*. After all, I have no complaints about the temperature -- not since we were able to repair the environmental controls."
Since she was already visibly seething, he added, "Of course, if you insist, I shall gladly accommodate you -- next time. I'm sorry I did not bring a change of clothes..."
Well, that did it. She no longer felt slightly silly about what she was going to do.
The bowls were already on the table, rapidly cooling.
"Shall we?" she said by way of invitation. "I'm afraid it won't stay hot very long..."
She sat down, and so did he -- on opposite ends of the table, for she had placed the bowls as far apart as possible.
The two bowls and a coarse, wooden spoon each, were the only items laid out.
"Ahh -- memories," Kira said, closing her eyes and pretending to relish the watery contents of her bowl. "Don't you like it? It's standard Cardassian fare on this station. At least it used to be -- don't tell me you have changed the tradition? Or didn't the Cardassians have this soup themselves? Back in the good old days?"
She had thought he would flare at the insult. In fact, she was preparing for a fight as she spoke. But the eruption did not come, and as she looked up, he was calmly eating the soup, and she could have sworn he was not even doing it to save face.
"Next, you're going to tell me you like it," she said, dropping her own pretense to that effect.
He smiled a little -- a strange smile, not his usual teasing one. "I've had worse. Much worse -- and considerably less."
She stared at him, unbelieving. What was he trying to pull now?
He finished the bowl, calmly if not enthusiastically.
"Have you ever been in a Cardassian prison, Major?" he asked conversationally. "A State prison on Prime, I mean -- not the labour camps."
She glared sullenly at her soup, then put her handcrafted spoon away, her triumph spoiled.
"Are you telling me you have?" she muttered.
"Is that so hard to believe, Major? Granted, it might seem unusual to a Bajoran, but both Terran and Cardassian history is full of the grand feats of leaders who went from the dungeons to the throne -- usually on a long and tortuous path. Does that disturb you? Did you really think suffering was a Bajoran prerogative?"
It did disturb her. Oddly not so much because he had taken the edge off her little scheme -- again -- but because she did not like the image of him as a prisoner, starved, perhaps tortured by his own people. It was acutely unpleasant, and she did not bother to analyze her reaction. Whether it was that he had approved the treatment of Bajor, fully knowing its meaning, or that she was so used to seeing him in a position of power that she had come to expect, even *want* him to stay there, as someone to do battle with, not to pity - or if it could be that she no longer wanted to see him hurt... she did not know, and right then she did not care. She just wanted the image to go away.
And then something occurred to her. She did not think he was lying, because she had found that he rarely told outright lies and never without reason; he was much more fond of tripping others up on the inconsistencies of their own statements -- but she just had to ask.
"I thought death was the only punishment on Cardassia, and 'guilty' the only verdict."
He folded his hands loosely in front of his chin, elbows on table. "I was awaiting trial and execution of course."
"For what?" she asked, but her eagerness for some sort of hold on him was a little too plain on her face, and he just smiled.
"Those were restless times. Let's say I was... too controversial for comfort. Even then."
"How did you get out of it? You can't very well have talked your way out... not on Cardassia."
He gave her a quick glance, full of mock reproval. "The rules changed. There was a change of regime -- a coup if you will, and as is usual on such occasions, all political prisoners were set free."
Quickly, she added up the information in her head. "You mean, the *civilian* government freed you?"
He smiled noncommittally. "There have been many coups on Cardassia Prime, Major."
She stared absently at her spoon. To think that she could have been rid of him all these years... but in such a way? Granted, she would not have known, but now the image haunted her. She had often wanted to see him dead -- but not subdued, not demeaned, not...
Almost furiously, she stared at her spoon for so long that he found an easy way both to break the silence and change the subject.
"Your people are good artisans," he said. "Those spoons are well carved with simple means. How long have you had them?"
Suffering -- a Bajoran prerogative... did he mean to imply *she* was the arrogant one? "Too long," she said abruptly, flinging her spoon at the recycler -- and missing.
Probably just as well. She would have regretted it tomorrow.
He stood and came around to her side. For a moment she thought he was about to take her hands in his, but he stopped just short of touching her, as always.
"May I suggest we end this silly game," he said, but his voice was gentle. "Why don't we consider this -- traditional -- dish a somewhat sentimental precourse and follow it with a proper meal? Leave the past, Major. If only for tonight, I beg you."
He sounded so sincere -- but then he was always good at that.
Suddenly tired of looking for five hidden motives behind every word he spoke, she nodded.
"Just give me a minute, I'll coax something better out of the replicator."
"No, Major," he said, remaining in her way as she tried to rise. "Let's have it in my quarters. The lighting is more -- romantic, shall we say?"
He smiled wickedly. "I promise to take off my armour..."
She did not really think the lighting in her quarters was bright enough to hurt his eyes -- it was slightly modified, but on the whole, she had to live with Cardassian environmental controls too. Nor could he mean what he seemed to be saying -- he was, after all, Cardassian. No, she was pretty sure he simply felt that the ambiance of her quarters had been ruined.
For her own part, she felt it keenly.
She answered in kind, "I'll hold you to that promise, Dukat."
Her attempt at double entendre was not lost on him -- of course -- and she could see it delighted him.
"I'll give you your minute, Major," he said. "But only to let me return to my quarters ahead of you. It might not be advisable to let certain parties see us together."
After he left, she was wondering what he meant by 'certain parties'.
His men? The Jem'Hadar? Weyoun?
Her door chimed, and she went distractedly to answer it, thinking he had come back to warn her about something or other. Perhaps their dinner was off...
She stared at Odo full ten seconds before realizing it was him.
"Anyone might think you had seen a ghost, Major," he rasped. "I assure you, I am quite real. If not exactly -- solid."
He cursed himself inwardly for the feeble joke.
On the other hand, there was nothing unusual about his shape at the moment, and she did look as if he were the last person she had expected to see. It seemed reasonable to assume that she had expected someone else.
Someone he had just seen leaving, perhaps?
"Odo?" she said, finding her voice. "What did you want?"
His keen perceptions told him she was making an effort not to sound curt. She had not really succeeded. He took in her state of undress, as he thought of it. Much as he relished the rare occasions when she would leave her jacket behind - especially since his spell as a human -- he found it a cause of worry now. Could Dukat have brought her to this? Suddenly, it all fell into place. Her obvious concern for Jake, her preoccupation after their discussion, her -- 'dinner' with Dukat... it stabbed Odo to the quick, and yet he knew she had done it for nothing but sheer, stubborn, Bajoran altruism. Damn, why couldn't she have talked to him about it first? Of all the silly plans -- as if it would get her any way at all with Dukat, as if it could buy Jake two minutes of freedom...
He had been planning to use some reports as a pretext, but pretexts no longer mattered. "I wanted to see how you were, Nerys," he said distinctly. "How are you?"
He wished the question had sounded less inquisitory.
"Fine," she said airily, with a vague wave of her hand. "Why shouldn't I be?"
"You're out of uniform," he observed.
"So what?" She laughed -- a little nervously, he thought. "What with the Cardassian environmental controls..."
"Major," he interrupted before she could become embarrassing even to her own ears, "if there is anything, anything at all troubling you, I want you to tell me. Please."
And maybe she would have at that. At that moment, she quite possibly might have. But his 'please' from habit sounded more like an order than a plea, and the quiet 'Nerys' had changed into the formal 'Major'. She knew he always fell back on his accustomed, authoritative manner when overcome by shyness, but it did not help matters.
"Get out, Constable," she retaliated. "When I need you, you'll be the first to know."
She saw him stiffen and relented instantly. "Odo, I'm sorry. What I mean is, I'm fine, really. But if I'm ever in trouble, I'll call on you. Promise. Please trust me. If something comes up that I can't handle..."
"Can you handle a Cardassian twice your size, Major?" Odo asked, sufficiently beside himself to exaggerate. The ice was back between them.
"It wouldn't be the first time," Kira said.
* * * *