Note: This is a slightly short chapter. Good stuff on the way tomorrow. Please remember to send reviews to the writers or post them on here! Thanks for reading! Long live DS9! ;-)
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THE AGREEMENT
By The Collaborators
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CHAPTER NINE
---
Quark was morosely counting the last of his latinum when he felt that familiar frisson of unease. Uh-oh! He knew that feeling. His lobes knew that approaching aura very, very well.
Odo.
Looming over him.
"Odo! Can I get you something?" Quark had no idea whatsoever why he even bothered to be his usual, obsequious self with Odo. Not that it had ever had any effect. Oh, well! It was just... in his lobes. To be ingratiating to people, that is. Except for Rom. And Nog. Well, family was different.
"Made any profit today, Quark?" Odo's voice was mild. But, oh how deceptive that mildness could be, only Quark knew. Well, maybe not only Quark.
"What do you think?" Quark sighed, and stopped counting. The Jem'Hadar were absolutely no fun. And, contrary to his earlier expectation, Weyoun was a teetotaler. He had, however, been holed up for three whole hours in Holosuite 2 the other day...
Hmm... maybe Ziyal had been on the mark, after all. Clever girl, that one.
Odo's face was unusually bland. More so than usual. In fact, ever since Major Kira had left, his face seemed to have lost some of its -- Quark was sure -- painstakingly crafted definition.
Despite himself, and despite Odo, Quark softened. "Odo... how's it going?"
Odo turned his head slightly, looking at Quark with those keen, suspicious eyes. Quark could swear he saw a smile in there. Somewhere.
"It? It is going fine, Quark." Quark leaned in closer. Odo leaned away. Quark grinned.
"You know, Odo... these Jem'Hadar may not ever take to drink, and Weyoun seems to only want to name other people's poison. But..." Quark grinned wider. "Those Cardassians can still... "
He stopped. Odo seemed to have grown larger, kind of... meaner.
"Well," Quark started to remove the glasses from the counter, wishing he could, at least once, disappear with them. "I am not complaining, that's all," he finished lamely.
Odo had reduced himself somewhat. Quark smiled his most ingratiating smile and fluttered his eyes at Odo. "And Gul Dukat seems to be leading the pack."
He took another quick peek at the silent shapeshifter. Odo was, blandly and steadfastly, inspecting the counter-top. Ah, well.
"The problem is, he does all of his drinking in his quarters! Not that he ever used my holosuites, or played Tongo. But... you know... if he came here more often, I'd be able to get him to do something about... about..."
Odo sighed. He knew one thing. The station had become incredibly, unbearably, boring. And, he could not believe that the high point in his day was going to be this "conversation" with Quark.
"About what, Quark??"
Quark's voice was mournful. "Nothing! It's nothing."
He began to grumble under his breath. "You know, I am almost out of my stash of kanar."
Odo sighed again. Heavily. Not again. Quark could be so human at times. He must have picked it up from Jake... and the others.
The others... He pushed off the counter and turned to leave.
"What?? Leaving so soon, Odo? Why... is it time to hit the bucket already?"
Quark seemed to be thoroughly enjoying his idiotic humour. Odo left him to it. Gladly.
Walking in his usual head-bent, shoulders-hunched manner, Odo failed to sense the figure, equally large, but leaner in frame, and would have barreled into him had the person not halted and allowed him to pass. As the sheen of metallic fabric caught his eye, Odo looked up from his reverie straight into a pair of indigo eyes.
"Gul Dukat," Odo inclined his head slightly. And stopped walking.
The eyes blinked, then cleared, as if dragged back from some other time, some other place. The lean body in the heavy Cardassian armour stiffened slightly, and the face, tired and drawn, assumed a curiously ironic expression.
"Odo," Dukat nodded. "Good night."
And walked on.
Odo stood rooted to the spot, watching the lone figure stride... no... trudge down the corridor. A curious, uncomfortable emotion flooded his being and, involuntarily, he shook his entire frame to flush it out of his system. Then, just as he turned and began to walk in the opposite direction, toward his own quarters, Odo recognized the feeling for what it was.
Pity.
---
The door chime seemed to have developed a personality all its own. Impatient, erratic, even somewhat imperious. Answer me... now! -- it insisted. His pulse racing in alarm, Dukat switched off the sonic shower with a thwack of his palm and wrapped a thick robe around himself -- brutally squashing the temptation to not answer at all. He shook his head in mortification. Did self-pity and cowardice suit the leader of Cardassia? Did skulking in quarters for the greater part of the day befit a Supreme Legate? And, for that matter, did near-inebriation? But then, kanar did so make the world recede... if only for a few blissful, fleeting moments...
The door chime really did have a mind of its own. He sighed heavily as he stepped out into the living area. "Come."
The first thing he felt as the door slid open was the collision. Of mass against mass. Body against body. One larger, leaner, powered with sinew -- the other smaller, slender, infinitely fragile. Ziyal's deep-blue eyes, so like his own in shape and coloring -- but so like Naprem's in essence, sparkled up at him. Dukat held tightly onto the delicate frame. This was everything to him now. This was always the way she had greeted him when she was a child. Here -- on Terok Nor. Always a mad rush, then a headlong dive. Did she really remember those days? He felt the cold emptiness in his heart abate a little as her wide, jaunty grin gave him his answer.
"Father!"
"Ziyal! You are late! I was getting worried... when did you arrive?"
Dukat looked up over her shiny, sable mane into the face of his first officer. Standing just outside the door, Damar looked a bit awkward at the proceedings. A bit shame-faced.
"--Arrived just a few minutes ago..." for a long moment Ziyal inspected her father a bit too closely for his comfort but, thankfully, did not ask any questions. Dukat found himself unable to look away from her face; it seemed as if she had quite grown up in these last few months, but that little girl of his still peeked out from underneath... that cheeky grin, those discerning eyes, the words tumbling frantically over each other in that obvious state of excitement... he suddenly found himself breathing heavily... in sheer relief.
"—And then Damar brought us back to the station!" Ziyal finished as she rocked back on her heels to peer back up at Damar.
So Damar had escorted Ziyal to the station, hmm? Well... Damar cleared his throat and had the temerity to glare at Ziyal. Dukat watched, fascinated, as his first officer then quickly lowered his eyes, his face flushing as Ziyal smirked saucily back at him. What had happened on the transport? Hmm...
"Sir, I have reports for you from--"
Dukat would have none of it. No matter how the war was going.
"Damar, can you give Ziyal and me time to have a quick dinner together?"
Dukat could not tear his eyes away from the glow in Ziyal's face. She was glowing. And he had to know why, and soon. "Ziyal, do you have time for a meal -- you haven't already eaten, have you?" He faltered.
Something in Ziyal's face -- a hesitation, an uncertainty -- froze him. Then, awareness of the single, hitherto-ignored word hit him with the power of a phaser set to kill. Tensing, Dukat looked at his daughter's radiant face. At her delighted, unreserved smile. He felt the floor rise as fear, raw and elemental, punched through his gut.
"...Us? Did you say... us?"
---
Kira sauntered into Odo's office as if she owned it -- her way of concealing her uneasiness over the upcoming confrontation, as well as her fury. She couldn't very well blame Odo for Dukat's decision to replace her as liaison officer -- but why the abyss hadn't he told her? During her most recent stint on Bajor, she had had absolutely no contact with him. Not that she had initiated any herself -- rather, she had been relieved -- but he should have told her something like this. Ziyal too had wondered that nobody had. However, Kira was determined this time to hear him out before flying off the handle again. She felt she owed it to him. But it was hard to curb her anger. Perhaps she overdid her swaggering -- the constable looked a little surprised as he put away the crime report padd to give her his full attention.
"Major," he greeted her formally.
"You wanted to see me, Odo?" Tense, yet determined to hear his side of things.
He nodded. "I'd like to know where I stand."
She closed her eyes briefly. This was not what she had expected, but she had a feeling she knew what was coming...
"There is nothing personal about it, Major," he reassured her, as if he had guessed her thought.
"But I can see that you are becoming far too involved with Gul Dukat -- I know not in what manner yet, but for security reasons, I must ask -- whose side are you on?"
She could tell the pain behind his sandpaper voice, but somehow she managed to feign indignation at his implied distrust. "How can you ask me that? You of all people should know me by now!"
But he only shook his head sadly. "I can't say that I know you at all anymore, Major. You don't tell me anything. And for my own sake, I must know: are we both still working for the same ideals we started out with when we decided to stay on Terok Nor -- or am I on my own?"
"My position as a liaison officer demanded..." she began, then realized that the language of diplomacy would not get her anywhere with Odo. Especially as she had never been able to speak it very well.
"Odo," she said instead, leaning across his desk towards him as if demanding an answer. "What is it? I know I've been keeping things from you, and I'm sorry, but -- those were personal things. Things I needed to straighten out for myself. Things I couldn't tell anyone."
He looked as if her every word were a poisoned dagger to him, and she had to admit he was right. She was shutting him out -- she who had always told him everything.
Why, even when she and Shakaar had first become a couple, she had seen to it that Odo was the first to know. She had told him herself, radiantly, the morning after...
How she must have hurt him then... But how could she have known? He, who detested secrets, wasn't exactly the most open person she had ever met. Nevertheless, she hated herself for having hurt him, for hurting him now, and her guilt fuelled the anger she had come in with. Odo had always been like a brother to her -- yes, a brother. That was it, perfectly uncomplicated! What had got into him that he should suddenly make these senseless accusations? And for that matter, who was he to complain about not being told everything?
Her resolve shattered, and her fist landed on his desk. "Why the blazing tendrils of a thousand anomalies didn't you TELL me I'd been replaced?"
He knew perfectly well what she was talking about. That was plain enough to see -- and wasn't that the tiniest fraction of a smile? She nearly exploded again, but a sudden thought occurred to her. "Did Dukat order you not to?"
This time the smile was unmistakable. "Outside of my work, the gul pretty much ignores me. He gives me no unnecessary orders."
"And what's that supposed to mean? You arbitrarily chose to keep me in the dark?"
"I saw no reason to inform you," he said calmly.
"You saw no reason...??" she sputtered. Pity there was no way of socking it to a changeling and not come out looking like a fool for trying...
"I naturally assumed Gul Dukat would keep you informed," Odo explained, but that persistent little smile gave him away. He was enjoying this, damn him!
"You're not really worried about my loyalties, are you?" she flung at him. "It's something else."
Finally, the smile subsided. He looked down at his hands, resting half- folded on his desk.
"I wanted to keep you away, Nerys," he confessed. "As far away from -- him -- as possible."
She gaped at him. 'Nothing personal' indeed! Of all the over-protective meddling... or was he... jealous? Had she been that obvious? She did not think so, it had certainly taken her long enough to begin to understand her own feelings. And did he really have to bring this up now that she was already plagued by Dukat's sudden, inexplicable indifference...
"And just how did you come to consider that your business?" she asked dangerously.
Odo let out one of his well-emulated sighs. He had not expected this confrontation to be easy. If only he knew her reasons for seeking out Dukat...
What motivated her these days? Revenge? Or something else entirely...? He dearly wished he could have trusted her. But it was his curse -- and perhaps his blessing -- that he found trust easier to let go of than to build.
"I've asked you time and time again, Nerys," he said quietly. "What is really going on between you and Dukat? I know he has put pressure on you. I knew already before we went to Bajor, and we both know what I saw there. Nerys," he said pleadingly, for once putting his hand on hers though he had sworn never to touch her again, "if it has gone as far as that, if he even has you playing up to his every whim, then you can't hope to handle this alone. It all started with Jake Sisko, didn't it?"
She gave him a startled look. How long had he known about that?
"Well, whatever hold he has on you now," Odo resumed, "you must break free from his influence. He is a hypnotic man, I know. I have often seen him use that talent to good effect on..." he broke off.
She pulled her hand away from his. "On other Bajoran women?" she completed his sentence for him. "Odo -- it isn't like that. You don't know him. He..."
It was her turn to leave a sentence hanging.
"If 'it isn't like that'," Odo said, some of his usual sarcasm creeping back into his voice, "then how is it? Or is that still one of those things you can't tell me?"
Suddenly, she knew what to say. His tone had helped her -- distanced her, like so many times before.
"It's not what you think, Odo," she snapped. "But for what you saw, he never touched me. Never -- except where it counts the most. He did touch my heart."
Taking care not to meet the shapeshifter's eyes, she spun around and left his office, a renewed purpose to her stride.
Odo sat where she had left him. Devastated again. Brokenhearted again. But oddly, less and less surprised each time. Kira had always had a deplorable weakness for powerful men. Yet his own special brand of power had always gone unnoticed.
'She can never love you, you're a changeling.' The cool verdict from the spokeswoman of his people whispered through his mind.
Perhaps she had been right. After all, she had lived for a long time. And there was really no understanding humanoids... solids.
He stood, about to lean against his desk out of habit because it was one of his postures to put the... solids at ease. Realizing that he did not have to accommodate anyone, he simply stood, erect, unsupported. Alone. Then he began slowly to change.
---
---
THE AGREEMENT
By The Collaborators
---
CHAPTER NINE
---
Quark was morosely counting the last of his latinum when he felt that familiar frisson of unease. Uh-oh! He knew that feeling. His lobes knew that approaching aura very, very well.
Odo.
Looming over him.
"Odo! Can I get you something?" Quark had no idea whatsoever why he even bothered to be his usual, obsequious self with Odo. Not that it had ever had any effect. Oh, well! It was just... in his lobes. To be ingratiating to people, that is. Except for Rom. And Nog. Well, family was different.
"Made any profit today, Quark?" Odo's voice was mild. But, oh how deceptive that mildness could be, only Quark knew. Well, maybe not only Quark.
"What do you think?" Quark sighed, and stopped counting. The Jem'Hadar were absolutely no fun. And, contrary to his earlier expectation, Weyoun was a teetotaler. He had, however, been holed up for three whole hours in Holosuite 2 the other day...
Hmm... maybe Ziyal had been on the mark, after all. Clever girl, that one.
Odo's face was unusually bland. More so than usual. In fact, ever since Major Kira had left, his face seemed to have lost some of its -- Quark was sure -- painstakingly crafted definition.
Despite himself, and despite Odo, Quark softened. "Odo... how's it going?"
Odo turned his head slightly, looking at Quark with those keen, suspicious eyes. Quark could swear he saw a smile in there. Somewhere.
"It? It is going fine, Quark." Quark leaned in closer. Odo leaned away. Quark grinned.
"You know, Odo... these Jem'Hadar may not ever take to drink, and Weyoun seems to only want to name other people's poison. But..." Quark grinned wider. "Those Cardassians can still... "
He stopped. Odo seemed to have grown larger, kind of... meaner.
"Well," Quark started to remove the glasses from the counter, wishing he could, at least once, disappear with them. "I am not complaining, that's all," he finished lamely.
Odo had reduced himself somewhat. Quark smiled his most ingratiating smile and fluttered his eyes at Odo. "And Gul Dukat seems to be leading the pack."
He took another quick peek at the silent shapeshifter. Odo was, blandly and steadfastly, inspecting the counter-top. Ah, well.
"The problem is, he does all of his drinking in his quarters! Not that he ever used my holosuites, or played Tongo. But... you know... if he came here more often, I'd be able to get him to do something about... about..."
Odo sighed. He knew one thing. The station had become incredibly, unbearably, boring. And, he could not believe that the high point in his day was going to be this "conversation" with Quark.
"About what, Quark??"
Quark's voice was mournful. "Nothing! It's nothing."
He began to grumble under his breath. "You know, I am almost out of my stash of kanar."
Odo sighed again. Heavily. Not again. Quark could be so human at times. He must have picked it up from Jake... and the others.
The others... He pushed off the counter and turned to leave.
"What?? Leaving so soon, Odo? Why... is it time to hit the bucket already?"
Quark seemed to be thoroughly enjoying his idiotic humour. Odo left him to it. Gladly.
Walking in his usual head-bent, shoulders-hunched manner, Odo failed to sense the figure, equally large, but leaner in frame, and would have barreled into him had the person not halted and allowed him to pass. As the sheen of metallic fabric caught his eye, Odo looked up from his reverie straight into a pair of indigo eyes.
"Gul Dukat," Odo inclined his head slightly. And stopped walking.
The eyes blinked, then cleared, as if dragged back from some other time, some other place. The lean body in the heavy Cardassian armour stiffened slightly, and the face, tired and drawn, assumed a curiously ironic expression.
"Odo," Dukat nodded. "Good night."
And walked on.
Odo stood rooted to the spot, watching the lone figure stride... no... trudge down the corridor. A curious, uncomfortable emotion flooded his being and, involuntarily, he shook his entire frame to flush it out of his system. Then, just as he turned and began to walk in the opposite direction, toward his own quarters, Odo recognized the feeling for what it was.
Pity.
---
The door chime seemed to have developed a personality all its own. Impatient, erratic, even somewhat imperious. Answer me... now! -- it insisted. His pulse racing in alarm, Dukat switched off the sonic shower with a thwack of his palm and wrapped a thick robe around himself -- brutally squashing the temptation to not answer at all. He shook his head in mortification. Did self-pity and cowardice suit the leader of Cardassia? Did skulking in quarters for the greater part of the day befit a Supreme Legate? And, for that matter, did near-inebriation? But then, kanar did so make the world recede... if only for a few blissful, fleeting moments...
The door chime really did have a mind of its own. He sighed heavily as he stepped out into the living area. "Come."
The first thing he felt as the door slid open was the collision. Of mass against mass. Body against body. One larger, leaner, powered with sinew -- the other smaller, slender, infinitely fragile. Ziyal's deep-blue eyes, so like his own in shape and coloring -- but so like Naprem's in essence, sparkled up at him. Dukat held tightly onto the delicate frame. This was everything to him now. This was always the way she had greeted him when she was a child. Here -- on Terok Nor. Always a mad rush, then a headlong dive. Did she really remember those days? He felt the cold emptiness in his heart abate a little as her wide, jaunty grin gave him his answer.
"Father!"
"Ziyal! You are late! I was getting worried... when did you arrive?"
Dukat looked up over her shiny, sable mane into the face of his first officer. Standing just outside the door, Damar looked a bit awkward at the proceedings. A bit shame-faced.
"--Arrived just a few minutes ago..." for a long moment Ziyal inspected her father a bit too closely for his comfort but, thankfully, did not ask any questions. Dukat found himself unable to look away from her face; it seemed as if she had quite grown up in these last few months, but that little girl of his still peeked out from underneath... that cheeky grin, those discerning eyes, the words tumbling frantically over each other in that obvious state of excitement... he suddenly found himself breathing heavily... in sheer relief.
"—And then Damar brought us back to the station!" Ziyal finished as she rocked back on her heels to peer back up at Damar.
So Damar had escorted Ziyal to the station, hmm? Well... Damar cleared his throat and had the temerity to glare at Ziyal. Dukat watched, fascinated, as his first officer then quickly lowered his eyes, his face flushing as Ziyal smirked saucily back at him. What had happened on the transport? Hmm...
"Sir, I have reports for you from--"
Dukat would have none of it. No matter how the war was going.
"Damar, can you give Ziyal and me time to have a quick dinner together?"
Dukat could not tear his eyes away from the glow in Ziyal's face. She was glowing. And he had to know why, and soon. "Ziyal, do you have time for a meal -- you haven't already eaten, have you?" He faltered.
Something in Ziyal's face -- a hesitation, an uncertainty -- froze him. Then, awareness of the single, hitherto-ignored word hit him with the power of a phaser set to kill. Tensing, Dukat looked at his daughter's radiant face. At her delighted, unreserved smile. He felt the floor rise as fear, raw and elemental, punched through his gut.
"...Us? Did you say... us?"
---
Kira sauntered into Odo's office as if she owned it -- her way of concealing her uneasiness over the upcoming confrontation, as well as her fury. She couldn't very well blame Odo for Dukat's decision to replace her as liaison officer -- but why the abyss hadn't he told her? During her most recent stint on Bajor, she had had absolutely no contact with him. Not that she had initiated any herself -- rather, she had been relieved -- but he should have told her something like this. Ziyal too had wondered that nobody had. However, Kira was determined this time to hear him out before flying off the handle again. She felt she owed it to him. But it was hard to curb her anger. Perhaps she overdid her swaggering -- the constable looked a little surprised as he put away the crime report padd to give her his full attention.
"Major," he greeted her formally.
"You wanted to see me, Odo?" Tense, yet determined to hear his side of things.
He nodded. "I'd like to know where I stand."
She closed her eyes briefly. This was not what she had expected, but she had a feeling she knew what was coming...
"There is nothing personal about it, Major," he reassured her, as if he had guessed her thought.
"But I can see that you are becoming far too involved with Gul Dukat -- I know not in what manner yet, but for security reasons, I must ask -- whose side are you on?"
She could tell the pain behind his sandpaper voice, but somehow she managed to feign indignation at his implied distrust. "How can you ask me that? You of all people should know me by now!"
But he only shook his head sadly. "I can't say that I know you at all anymore, Major. You don't tell me anything. And for my own sake, I must know: are we both still working for the same ideals we started out with when we decided to stay on Terok Nor -- or am I on my own?"
"My position as a liaison officer demanded..." she began, then realized that the language of diplomacy would not get her anywhere with Odo. Especially as she had never been able to speak it very well.
"Odo," she said instead, leaning across his desk towards him as if demanding an answer. "What is it? I know I've been keeping things from you, and I'm sorry, but -- those were personal things. Things I needed to straighten out for myself. Things I couldn't tell anyone."
He looked as if her every word were a poisoned dagger to him, and she had to admit he was right. She was shutting him out -- she who had always told him everything.
Why, even when she and Shakaar had first become a couple, she had seen to it that Odo was the first to know. She had told him herself, radiantly, the morning after...
How she must have hurt him then... But how could she have known? He, who detested secrets, wasn't exactly the most open person she had ever met. Nevertheless, she hated herself for having hurt him, for hurting him now, and her guilt fuelled the anger she had come in with. Odo had always been like a brother to her -- yes, a brother. That was it, perfectly uncomplicated! What had got into him that he should suddenly make these senseless accusations? And for that matter, who was he to complain about not being told everything?
Her resolve shattered, and her fist landed on his desk. "Why the blazing tendrils of a thousand anomalies didn't you TELL me I'd been replaced?"
He knew perfectly well what she was talking about. That was plain enough to see -- and wasn't that the tiniest fraction of a smile? She nearly exploded again, but a sudden thought occurred to her. "Did Dukat order you not to?"
This time the smile was unmistakable. "Outside of my work, the gul pretty much ignores me. He gives me no unnecessary orders."
"And what's that supposed to mean? You arbitrarily chose to keep me in the dark?"
"I saw no reason to inform you," he said calmly.
"You saw no reason...??" she sputtered. Pity there was no way of socking it to a changeling and not come out looking like a fool for trying...
"I naturally assumed Gul Dukat would keep you informed," Odo explained, but that persistent little smile gave him away. He was enjoying this, damn him!
"You're not really worried about my loyalties, are you?" she flung at him. "It's something else."
Finally, the smile subsided. He looked down at his hands, resting half- folded on his desk.
"I wanted to keep you away, Nerys," he confessed. "As far away from -- him -- as possible."
She gaped at him. 'Nothing personal' indeed! Of all the over-protective meddling... or was he... jealous? Had she been that obvious? She did not think so, it had certainly taken her long enough to begin to understand her own feelings. And did he really have to bring this up now that she was already plagued by Dukat's sudden, inexplicable indifference...
"And just how did you come to consider that your business?" she asked dangerously.
Odo let out one of his well-emulated sighs. He had not expected this confrontation to be easy. If only he knew her reasons for seeking out Dukat...
What motivated her these days? Revenge? Or something else entirely...? He dearly wished he could have trusted her. But it was his curse -- and perhaps his blessing -- that he found trust easier to let go of than to build.
"I've asked you time and time again, Nerys," he said quietly. "What is really going on between you and Dukat? I know he has put pressure on you. I knew already before we went to Bajor, and we both know what I saw there. Nerys," he said pleadingly, for once putting his hand on hers though he had sworn never to touch her again, "if it has gone as far as that, if he even has you playing up to his every whim, then you can't hope to handle this alone. It all started with Jake Sisko, didn't it?"
She gave him a startled look. How long had he known about that?
"Well, whatever hold he has on you now," Odo resumed, "you must break free from his influence. He is a hypnotic man, I know. I have often seen him use that talent to good effect on..." he broke off.
She pulled her hand away from his. "On other Bajoran women?" she completed his sentence for him. "Odo -- it isn't like that. You don't know him. He..."
It was her turn to leave a sentence hanging.
"If 'it isn't like that'," Odo said, some of his usual sarcasm creeping back into his voice, "then how is it? Or is that still one of those things you can't tell me?"
Suddenly, she knew what to say. His tone had helped her -- distanced her, like so many times before.
"It's not what you think, Odo," she snapped. "But for what you saw, he never touched me. Never -- except where it counts the most. He did touch my heart."
Taking care not to meet the shapeshifter's eyes, she spun around and left his office, a renewed purpose to her stride.
Odo sat where she had left him. Devastated again. Brokenhearted again. But oddly, less and less surprised each time. Kira had always had a deplorable weakness for powerful men. Yet his own special brand of power had always gone unnoticed.
'She can never love you, you're a changeling.' The cool verdict from the spokeswoman of his people whispered through his mind.
Perhaps she had been right. After all, she had lived for a long time. And there was really no understanding humanoids... solids.
He stood, about to lean against his desk out of habit because it was one of his postures to put the... solids at ease. Realizing that he did not have to accommodate anyone, he simply stood, erect, unsupported. Alone. Then he began slowly to change.
---