Chapter 12

Kira slowly opened her eyes and took stock of her surroundings. These were definitely not her

quarters but her sluggish mind was having difficulty remembering just exactly who they DID

belong to. She sat up to get a better look around and promptly clutched her head to keep it from

violently separating from her body. She lay back down with a pitiful moan.

By the Prophets, she hadn't felt this bad in...well, she didn't think she'd ever felt this bad before.

She moaned again from sheer misery. What in the hell had happened last night?

"Good morning, Major. I trust you slept well last night?"

Kira cracked one eye just enough to observe as Dukat entered the room. Oh, hell. Now she was

starting to remember. She remembered bringing out the bottles and glasses and making numerous

toasts to everything from Ziyal to the color of the Bajoran peko birds multihued plumage.

Oh, Prophets! Just how drunk had they gotten?

However bad, she seemed to have reaped the worst of it, she thought, as she listened to Dukat tunelessly hum his way around his quarters. Why in the name of the Prophets was HE feeling fine and chipper while she lay here in misery?

"If you don't mind my saying so, major, you look a little the worse for wear. Perhaps some

breakfast would cheer you up?"

Kira moaned at the thought.

"You are sick! How can you even look at food right now?"

Dukat smiled to himself and then looked over at Kira, curled into a ball of misery on his couch

and clutching a pillow over her head.

"I suppose that means that you were unaware of the fact that Cardassians, as a rule, don't

generally suffer from the after effects of too much liquor?"

He smiled even broader when he heard her mumble something that sounded suspiciously like a

rather nasty Bajoran curse, but with the pillow in the way, he couldn't be too sure. However,

knowing Kira...

He decided to leave off teasing her for the moment and continued replicating his breakfast. He

had actually awoke this morning with a ravenous appetite. When he considered how little he had

eaten in the past few days, it really wasn't surprising. What was surprising was how much better

he had felt upon waking this morning. Despite a very slight headache from the amount of kanar

he had consumed on top of the sedatives he had taken, and the stiffness in his body from the

cramped and awkward position he had slept in, he felt better than he had in days. No crushing

cloud of grief and despair had waited to greet him as he left his slumber. As he had sat up on the

couch and tried to get up, he promptly remembered why.

Nerys was curled up in front of the couch asleep, her hand still wrapped around her glass and a

pillow clutched over her head. He had almost stepped on her. Shifting downward so he could

move without disturbing her, he got off the couch and stood up, stretching his cramped muscles.

Then he looked down at her.

Poor Nerys, she was going to be absolutely miserable when she woke up.

He remembered quite well the previous night and he also remembered just how much

she had put away. She had even condescended to try the kanar.

He looked down at her prone figure and, deciding to take pity on her, he plucked the glass out of

her hand then picked her up and put her on the couch. She'd still be miserable when she woke

but maybe at least she wouldn't be as sore and cramped. Her smaller size would allow for more

stretching room on the couch than he had had. On that, he turned and went to find a shower and a

change of clothes.

Now he looked over at her as he sat down to eat, wondering if he should perhaps order something

for her anyway. Food was obviously out but, deciding a gesture of mercy and friendliness might

be in order, he replicated a glass and sat it on the low table beside her.

"Nerys?"

"Mmmph."

"You might feel better if you drink this."

She lowered the pillow enough that he could see her skeptical look.

"Dukat, I'm pretty sure that the only way I could possibly feel better right now would be if I were

dead. And since I would have to feel better to die, it's not looking like a possibility right now,

OK?"

Trying very hard not to laugh, he held the glass up in front of her.

"According to the replicator, this is the hangover remedy most of the station crew seems to use. I

was truly astounded to see how many times in just this month this particular item had been

ordered. Who would've thought a Ferengi could come up with something this useful."

She seemed to perk up just slightly. "Is that Quark's Quick Fix?"

He gave her an amused look, "Tried it before, have you?"

She held out a hand, beckoning for the glass, "Just pass it over please. And since you seem

disposed to be helpful, a cup of raktajino would be very much appreciated."

He stood up, giving her a little mocking bow, "As the lady wishes." He then strolled over and

ordered the Klingon coffee she had requested.

He carried it back to her. She had managed to push herself into a semi-sitting position and

reached out for the mug he handed to her. She then downed the Fix in one hand, with a truly

awful grimace, then quickly followed it with a drink of her coffee. Placing the empty glass on the

table, she slowly leaned back into the couch, eyes closed, and cradled the warm coffee mug in her

hands.

Dukat watched this procedure with some amazement. He was really quite curious to know what

could possibly make up the Ferengi's fix to cause such a pained look. However, wisely deciding

that in this case, discretion just might be the better part of valor, he decided to leave her to her

raktajino and returned to his own breakfast.

Kira sat on the couch with her legs pulled up to her chest. She closed her eyes to try and curb the

awful pounding in her head and prayed to the Prophets that she wouldn't absolutely disgrace

herself by being sick. She prayed fervently that the Fix would kick in soon. It was utterly

humiliating to be in this bad a condition and in front of DUKAT, of all people!

What had she been thinking? Kira sat there, grimly berating herself for her stupidity and

drinking her coffee, her mood getting darker and darker. Conversely, she was starting to feel

much better. Even the scent of breakfast which, when she had first awoke, made her sick, was

now beginning to be faintly appealing. Even so, she absolutely refused the thought of eating. Less chance of causing herself more humiliation in case the fix didn't fix quick enough.

"Excuse me, major, but it just occurred to me. Shouldn't you be reporting for duty quite soon?"

Kira almost panicked before she remembered that Sisko had ordered her off duty for the next few

days. She relaxed unconsciously back into the couch and gave a sigh. "No, actually, I don't." She

shot a side glance in his direction, "The Captain has ordered me off duty for the next couple of

days."

"Is that so?"

She opened her eyes at that and turned her head to look at him. He was still seated elegantly at

the table, apparently finished eating but still drinking negligently at his tea.

"Yes, that's so."

"So does that mean that I get to enjoy the pleasure of your company for today, as well?

She took a large swallow of her coffee, closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the

couch.

"At least until I can get up off this couch without falling on my face or making a run for the

bathroom."

He smiled broadly at that. He had a reprieve. He had been quite nervous at the thought of being

left alone again with nothing but his thoughts to occupy him. However, after the weakness he had

displayed last night, he had been determined to send her on her way with at least an attempt at his

usual flippancy. But now he didn't have to. It was a great relief to his mind. A Nerys with a nasty

hangover was bound to be bad, he was sure. However, it would be ten times better than no Nerys

at all. He just simply could not bear the thought of being alone again, not yet.

Nerys suddenly opened her eyes and looked over at him as something registered in her mind that

hadn't earlier.

"You're not wearing your armor."

Dukat, startled, looked down at himself and then back at her.

"Well, it did seem rather pointless as I'm obviously not going to be going out of this room

today."

Kira was embarrassed. Of course he wasn't wearing armor, why would he? After all, it was as he

said, he sure as hell wasn't likely to be leaving this room today, so why bother? She had, in all

honesty, never considered the fact that he might ever wear anything besides his uniform. She had

certainly never seen him in anything else. However, the dark blue outfit he had on now looked no

different than anything any off-duty officer might wear. And, if she was continuing to be honest,

she had to admit that it looked good on him. It was well cut and the blue was a nice foil for his

coloring. She also had to admit that he didn't seem nearly as intimidating and, well, HARD, as he

did in the typical Cardassian military uniform. It was disconcerting.

Trying to break the sudden tension he felt at her perusal, Dukat stood and began clearing the

table off. Over his shoulder, he asked, "Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?"

Kira considered the question. She was beginning to feel much better and she guessed that the

lingering traces of nausea she felt could probably be dispelled with a light meal.

"Actually, yes, I do think I could eat." She swung one foot off the couch and shifted her weight,

preparing to get up, when suddenly, the world swam around her and she found herself sitting

back down on the couch, hard. Grabbing her head to stop the spinning, she groaned. "On second

thought, maybe I'll just wait a few more minutes."

Dukat looked at her, arms crossed and eyeridge cocked, "When was the last time you ate?"

Kira tried to think but gave it up, "I don't know, yesterday, I think?"

Dukat gave her an exasperated look, dropped his arms and going over to the replicator, ordered

an assortment of breakfast items. These he carried over and placed on the table. Then he walked

over to her.

"Do you think you can walk?"

Kira was indignant. "Of course I can walk! I just don't want to right now."

His lips twitched. Gods, she was a handful! He couldn't help but love her.

Before she could protest, he swept her up and carried her to the table, dropping her

unceremoniously into a chair. He then sat down across from her.

"Eat. You'll feel better."

Kira looked belligerent. "I'm really not all that hungry," she stated, even as she eyed the moba

fruit in front of her.

He refused to let her win such a self-defeating argument. She was practically starting to drool. He

leaned forward, a determined glint in his eyes.

"Oh, you'll eat. If I have to sit you on my lap and force feed you myself."

Kira glared at him. He was fairly certain that if a look could have killed, he would be fallen over

dead by now. He only leaned further back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and glared

back.

Nerys suddenly felt ridiculous. Why was she arguing? She was starving, her stomach practically

turning itself inside out and she was arguing because...because...why? Kirapromptly propped her

elbow on the table, leaned her forehead in her hand and started giggling.

Dukat looked at Nerys in concern, wondering if she was alright. However, he quickly saw that

what he had thought was crying was actually laughter. He frowned, confused. Why was she

laughing?

Kira chose that moment to look up and caught Dukat staring at her as if she was a Breeot with

two heads. That made her start laughing even harder.

He didn't know what to make of her. First she was so mad, she looked ready to kill and now she

was laughing so hard she was almost falling out of her chair. He watched her as she sat across

from him, howling with laughter. He couldn't help it. His innate sense of humor always got the

best of him. His lips twitched and before he knew it, he was laughing as well.

Kira started to calm down, wiping at her eyes and trying to breathe. Dukat did the same. Kira

looked over at him sheepishly.

"I think I've been under too much stress lately." Looking away from him and at the table, she

snagged a moba fruit and some Kona bread. Placing these on her plate, she looked back at him.

"One of these pitchers wouldn't happen to be raktajino, would it?"

He sighed, realizing that was all the acknowledgement of her rude behavior she would make. He

thought he was rather lucky to have even gotten that. Reaching across the table, he picked up one

of the pitchers and poured some of its contents into a cup for her. She took it wordlessly and sat

it down beside her plate.

As they sat there, she began to eat. He sat watching her, acutely aware of how alone they were

together. For once, he could think of nothing to say. All he could think of was the woman across

from him and how desperately he wanted her. He wanted everything about her. Her smile, her

laugh, her thoughts. Even her nasty temper and sharp mouth...and most definitely her body.

Gods, how he wanted THAT. But sitting here with her, like this, made him want it, want HER,

with every fiber of his being. He looked away, willing himself to think about something else,

ANYTHING else, except the one thing he would never be allowed to have.

It all suddenly struck him as being so unfair. Everything. His whole, damned life. It was all such a joke. And his attraction to this crazy woman was only one more infuriating mystery to add to the mess.

Why was she so stubborn towards him?

It seemed imperative to him that he find the answer to that question. All these years, he had tried everything he knew to just get her on civil terms with him and it always failed. Even when he had thought he was making progress, something would happen and it would all fall apart again.

He couldn't really explain why he felt such a need for her to forgive him, to accept him. He only knew that it had always been something he had wanted, no, NEEDED to have.

He then turned back to her.

"Nerys, may I ask you something?"

"Yes, but only if I get to ask you something in return."

He gave a slight smile, "Fair enough."

He looked down at his hands, wondering how to ask what he wanted to know. Taking a deep

breath, he looked up at Nerys and spoke the question that had burned in his mind for what

seemed like forever.

"Why do you hate me so very much? I know you have no love lost for Cardassia or her people

but I also know that you are not so close minded as to be unable to forgive. Ziyal is proof of that.

Even Ghemor was proof of that! Why is it that you cannot seem to forgive ME?" He stopped

abruptly, acutely aware that he had perhaps shown too much of his feelings with his questions.

Unable to sit still with the tension now heavy between them, he stood and paced to the other side

of the room.