In this part of the Federation core, it was easy to get a subspace message through to Earth. There was so much com traffic to the other core planets that finding receivers aimed at Bashir's homeworld was no difficulty at all. He waited less than three minutes before Shannon Tanner's face was on the screen.

She blinked when she saw him, looking surprised, then her face lit up in a smile.

"Jules!" she exclaimed. "How are you?"

He made a sound that could only be described at the essence of frustration and waved one hand vaguely. Tanner's smile vanished and her eyebrows shot up questioningly.

"What's wrong? Is it Jadzia?"

"No," Bashir said, sitting back in his seat. The house was quiet except for this conversation; the Idaris family had gone out to do some errands and he had claimed he wanted a nap. He had some time to himself now, to talk to someone who wouldn't understand at all his problems at all, but at least not understand them from a human perspective.

"At least, not entirely her," he continued, shaking his head. "It's everyone else on this bloody planet, Shan! They won't shut up about non-Trill having problems with newly joined Trill!"

Tanner frowned.

"Isn't that true, though?" she asked.

"Yes!" Bashir said, throwing his hands in the air. "And it's probably because of the fact that they keep insisting on it!"

"Calm down, Jules," Tanner said. "Tell me what's going on."

He explained to her about how many times he'd gotten the warning about his relationship.

"I'm so tired of hearing it," he said. "I think Zia is, too, but I can't tell for sure. There's so much I can't tell about her anymore."

"How has she changed?" Tanner enquired.

"She's so much more confident– not that I have a problem with that. More outgoing, more flirtatious–" At this, Tanner arched a very expressive eyebrow, as if to tell Bashir that he, of all people, shouldn't be complaining about that. "I don't know where I stand with her anymore. And it seems that everyone else is convinced that this will break us up."

Tanner was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"I have no idea what to think," he said frankly. "It's only been six days since she's been joined. I have no idea how her personality is going to turn out in the end."

Tanner waved a hand as if brushing his words aside.

"Julian, you have no idea how her personality would turn out over the span of her life anyway."

"Yes, but this is changing so suddenly."

Tanner nodded, and Bashir knew she understood as much as she could. As much as any human could. He felt comforted by that contact, but it didn't change the fact that he felt like he was losing Dax.

"Look, Jules," Tanner said and Bashir shook himself back to the present. "When you first met Zia, it's not like you guys just went from strangers to where you were a week ago. Why do you expect this now? You still know her in a way, but you're getting to know a new her. Don't try to make this work the way it was before she was joined."

Bashir frowned, giving his head a shake.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Tanner shrugged.

"Think of the things the two of you did when you started dating. Take her out for a nice dinner, or to dance, or something. Since she's joined with Curzon Dax's symbiont, she might be interested in Bajoran or Cardassian food. You're pretty close to Bajor, so you might be able to find a Bajoran restaurant. Or maybe there's a place there you know she likes."

A light came to Bashir's eyes for a moment.

"Good idea, Shan," he said.

She snorted.

"Don't depend on my ideas," she said. "It's up to you, Jules. And you only have a few days left on Trill. Make them count. Think of what the two of you did."

"I will. Thanks, Shan."

"No problem. Go figure something out. I'll see you in about a week."

He grinned at her.

"Absolutely," he agreed. She grinned back and ended the communication. The standard Federation communication symbol flashed onto the screen before it went blank. Bashir sat there for a moment, then nodded and pushed himself to his feet.


"I hope you brought something sophisticated to wear."

Dax stopped in the doorway of her old bedroom, the one she and Bashir were sharing while they were here. He had his suitcase open on the bed and was carefully taking out a folded white shirt. The shirt he had been wearing that morning was folded on the bed beside the case. He glanced up at her with a grin, his eyes sparkling.

"Maybe that dark red dress, the one that looks so good on you."

Dax gave a short, baffled laugh.

"I did bring that," she said. "Why?"

"I made reservations for us at the Crest in Siako."

"What?" Dax demanded, her blue eyes going wide. "How did you manage that?"

"I have my ways," he replied easily, arching one eyebrow, and refusing to say more. Dax entered the room and sat down on the bed as he buttoned up the smart, double breasted white shirt she'd bought him a few months ago. It looked fantastic on him, contrasting his slightly darker skin and fitting the shape of his body perfectly. Of course, she'd had it tailored to fit him, but she had never noticed before exactly how good he looked in it.

"Well?" he asked, nodding at her suitcase.

"When are we leaving?" she asked.

"In about half an hour."

"I'm going to do something with my hair," she replied.

She went into the bathroom, fetched a brush from her small carrying case and set to work. It had been a long time since she'd had hair like this, at least a long time for Dax. Fortunately, Jadzia had a lifetime of dealing with her long brunette locks, so Dax's many recent decades as a man posed no problem to the young woman. She swept most of her hair up behind her head, winding it over itself, and let a few strands fall along the side of her face. These she curled into ringlets, then examined herself critically in the mirror before grinning. She looked great.

And, she realized, she was excited. The Crest, in Siako city, was one of her favorite restaurants, but it was also the favorite restaurant of a large portion of the Trill population, and a major draw for visiting aliens. She had no idea how Bashir had managed to get them in, wondering if it had something to do with knowing the current host of the Dax symbiont, but she was pleased and flattered that he'd gone to the trouble.

She fished her red dress out of the suitcase and pressed it quickly. The room was deserted now, Bashir having gone to do something else. Dax slipped the silk over her head and managed to do the back up herself, then gave herself another critical overview. She was delighted with what she saw; this dress, as Bashir had said, always looked good on her. It was made of dark red silk, with a plunging neckline and two small straps crossing each shoulder. The straps were hooked together at the front and back of the dress, but separated slightly across her shoulders. The waist was fitted and the skirt only slightly flared, coming to just above her knees. There was no decoration on the dress, nor did there need to be; the cut of the neckline and the lack of sleeves showed off her Trill spots. It was one of the reasons she bought the dress. The dark red brought out the blue in her eyes and the pink tinge in her cheeks.

She grinned at herself, found her matching pair of shoes and slipped them on. Bashir came back then, dressed in his white shirt and a pair of dark blue dress pants. He smiled at the sight of her and she smiled back.

"Ready?" he asked, extending one arm to her.

"Absolutely," she replied, feeling more like herself than she had in the last six days. She slipped a hand through his arm and they made their way from the house, bidding her family good night, and headed down the street to the nearest transporter station.

The Crest was as busy as she excepted, every table taken except a small booth at the back where four people could sit comfortably. It was there that Bashir and Dax were led by a sophisticated, middle aged Trill woman. Wine was ready for them, and Dax was surprised. She reached for her glass once the maitre d' had left and took a sip. It had been her favorite wine before she'd been joined, and she was heartened and somewhat surprised to find it still was, even with her vastly increased repertoire. Curzon had a distinct fondness for good wine, and Dax was happy to find out that her current tastes won out over his.

"Good choice?" Bashir asked, picking up his own glass.

"Definitely," Dax replied. "Still my favorite."

He held up his glass in a silent toast to her and Dax touched the brim of her glass to his. It was an interesting human custom. She had no idea where it came from, but she'd often noticed that humans, like Trill, were very social in their eating habits.

"What made you think to come here?" she asked, putting the glass down gently and glancing around the restaurant. The majority of the patrons were Trill, but she spotted a fair number of aliens as well: humans or Betazoids – Dax had no idea how to tell the difference just by looking – an Andorian and a Bolian eating together, a handful of Cardassians sharing a table engaged in a lively conversation, an older, blond Bajoran woman dining with a distinguished older Cardassian man.

"I'll never tell," Bashir replied and Dax looked back at him. He had that telltale mischievous look on his face that told her, indeed, she'd never know. Just as she'd probably never really know how he managed to get them a table.

Their waiter appeared with their menu and they spent a few quiet minutes deciding what to want before ordering. The waiter returned, took their orders and vanished again, all courtesy and grace. It was one of the reasons Dax loved this place; the waiters may have been Betazoid for their instinct for appearing at a table at exactly the right moment.

"Well, whatever made you decide this, I'm glad you did," she said. "I never would have thought we'd make it in on short notice. I didn't even think to make a reservation before coming."

Bashir only nodded, eyes twinkling, and Dax wondered if he had thought of making a reservation back when they had planned the trip. She wouldn't put it past him. For someone as young and arrogant as he was – and he was, fairly frequently – he had a distinct knack for surprising and delighting her.

He poured her more wine and Dax sipped it contentedly.

"How was your day with your family?" he asked, sipping his own wine.

"Good," Dax replied with a smile. "But, to be honest, I'm looking forward to going home, too."

"Is it that, or are you just looking forward to being finished with tomorrow?"

"Maybe both," Dax admitted, giving her head a shake. "I don't really want to go, but I'm expect to."

The memorial service for Curzon Dax was being held the following day, and, as the new host, she was expected to go. This wasn't common, but given what Curzon had done for the Federation and for Trill, and the fact that he'd been her field supervisor, it would appear to be a slight if she wasn't there. She wasn't certain she was ready to face all the people he knew, and most of them would be there. It was why the service had been delayed for so long; several very important people in the Federation had to rearrange their schedules at the last moment to attend.

A man approaching their table distracted her from her thoughts and Dax glanced up to see an older Cardassian looking back at her. She blinked, then stared as recognition hit her.

"Tain? Enabran Tain?" she asked.

The Cardassian's face relaxed into a grin.

"Ah, good," he said. "I was afraid I'd get the wrong woman. Hello, Dax."

Stunned, Dax slid from the booth and gripped Tain's hands welcomingly. She laughed in shock, shaking her head.

"It's been so long!" she exclaimed.

"Longer than I realized," he replied. "You look magnificent, Dax."

"Luck of the draw," she replied. "Although I think Curzon would appreciate knowing the symbiont went to a young, attractive woman."

At this, Tain laughed a deep, appreciative laugh.

"Indeed he would."

Dax gestured to Bashir, who was watching the exchange with confusion.

"Jules, this is Enabran Tain, one of the Cardassian diplomats who helped the Alliance merge with the Federation."

"I remember the name," Bashir replied, reaching out to shake the Cardassian's hand.

"Enabran, this is Julian Bashir, my partner."

"Lucky man," Tain said to Bashir with a wink.

"Yes, well, I don't think Curzon would have been quite my type," Bashir replied dryly, to which Tain chuckled.

"Come, join us," Dax said.

"Oh, I couldn't," Tain replied. "I don't want to interrupt."

"Nonsense!" Dax replied, missing the quick frown that creased Bashir's features. "I haven't seen you in years. What are you doing on Trill? The service, of course."

"Precisely," Tain said, accepting the offer then and sitting down beside Bashir in the booth, facing Dax. "It took some doing, of course, but no one was going to deny me my privilege of being here. Elim can't make it, unfortunately."

Dax frowned, nodding.

"How is Elim? I haven't seen him since he was oh, my age now, I suppose."

Tain chuckled again.

"Always my greatest weakness, that boy," he sighed. "He's fine, as always, and busy, as always. No rest for the legate, of course. He did want to be here, but alas, some things do take precedence over even this."

"I'm glad you came, though," Dax said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand lightly. "It would have meant a lot to Curzon."

"I presume you're going tomorrow?"

Dax nodded, casting a glance at Bashir, who she knew wasn't anticipating the service, either.

"I am, although, to be honest, I'm not looking forward to it."

"Why not?" the Cardassian enquired.

Dax sighed.

"I'm still adjusting to Jadzia's life and you're the first friend of Curzon's I've met again. I'm not sure how seeing old faces will be this time around. And Jadzia and Curzon didn't have the best of relationships."

Tain laughed.

"Young lady, there were many people with whom Curzon did not have the best of relationships!" He became more serious, nodding. "But I do understand where you're coming from. I'm sure Curzon's old friends and acquaintances will have certain expectations of you that won't be founded."

Dax nodded.

"It happens with a new host, particularly when he or she is reintroduced to a former host's friends who aren't Trill."

Tain nodded and the waiter came over to enquire if the Cardassian wanted any wine. Dax shot Bashir a questioning glance and he nodded. "Thank you," she mouthed at him and smiled at Tain, who ordered a glass of kanar.

"I remember the day when you couldn't get kanar on this planet," he commented as the waiter left.

Dax laughed.

"I do, too," she replied. "Although that didn't stop some of my former hosts from having it smuggled here."

The Cardassian arched an eyebrow.

"Really?" he asked.

Dax nodded.

"Torias was terrible for it!" she exclaimed. "I think that's where Curzon got his affinity for Cardassian culture."

The diplomat laughed, shaking his head. Dax leaned forward, both hands on the table, smiling mischievously at him.

"Now come on," she said. "I want to know everything that's happened to you since you and Curzon last talked."


The evening had been a sore disappointment for Bashir, who now sat on the bed in Dax's old bedroom, folding his white shirt carefully. They had gotten in late, and he had forgone turning on the light; there was enough moonlight for him to see easily. Dax was in the shower, so he was by himself.

With a sigh, he pulled his pajama shirt over his head, then put the dress shirt away with care. He sat down on the bed again and looked at the sheets in the moonlight. They were rumpled where he was sitting, and he took a handful between his fist, scrunching them gently. They had been on Trill for six full days now, and, although they had slept in the same bed, that was all they had done. Bashir was willing to give Dax space, of course, but he couldn't help feeling she was pushing him away further.

He hadn't intended to spend the evening with Enabran Tain. Under different circumstances, he was sure he would have liked the man. Tain was outgoing, with a sharp, dry sense of humour, and he had a wealth of stories to share. But the fact that he, Bashir, had intended to spend a romantic evening with Dax spoiled his view of the other man. And Dax had a history with Tain, Bashir did not. While the two of them had caught up on old times, all he could do was listen to stories of places he'd never been and people he'd never meet. It had been frustrating.

He hoped it hadn't shown, of course. He didn't want Dax to be unhappy. His medical training had schooled him to keep his emotions from the surface; any good doctor needed that kind of control. But this wasn't a medical issue, this was his personal life. He wondered if Dax had even noticed, or if she knew that she was slipping from his life.

With a sigh, Bashir pushed himself to his feet and changed his pants. He sat down again and pulled on a pair of thin socks before padding over to the window and looking out. This whole trip had been a disaster; he probably should just have stayed on Earth and waited for her to come back. How was he supposed to give her space, after all, if he was here? He could be getting work done on Earth, too, and spending some time with Tanner before she warped off to the edge of known space.

He hadn't realized his life was going to change as much as it had, and when he thought of how much more it was going to change, with one of his best friends leaving Earth for good, it made him feel sick. He felt like he was losing everyone around him. His parents had been lost to him years ago, of course, and now the two people closest to him were also fading. One physically, the other emotionally. It was hard to be here, watching Dax drift away from him.

But what had he expected? She was a joined Trill. He should have known. He was a human. There had been hope for them, but only a slim hope. Despite the genetic enhancements, he was still no different than any other human, in this respect, at least. Just another alien who didn't belong.

He crawled under the covers as he heard the sonic shower switch off– with his hearing, he was just able to hear the high pitched noise. He heard Dax moving around in the 'fresher and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep.


Jadzia Dax had never been more miserable in her life. No, that wasn't true. She had been just as miserable during her two week field training under Curzon Dax.

And he was the cause of her current misery, too.

The memorial service was packed, and it was being aired on Trill's comnet. Curzon's remaining family, his sister, her husband and children, and some cousins, were there, although Dax had not, thankfully, been required to sit with them. Almost everywhere she looked, she saw familiar faces. There were a lot of people she would have recognized before being joined, but no one she'd ever expected to meet or know. There was Enabran Tain, of course, sitting with some fellow Cardassian and Bajoran diplomats. Even after all this time, the Bajoran and the Cardassians had a stronger connection to each other than to any other race in the Federation. Dax recognized First Minister Tenys Evar from Bajor, who was also sitting with Tain. The president of the Federation himself was there, with several high ranking admirals, including a very elderly Doctor Leonard McCoy, who was looking impatient. There were a huge number of Trill crowded into the government building that had been appropriated for the occasion.

Thankfully, no one seemed to recognize Dax. She had come only with Bashir, asking her family to let her have this personal time. The truth was, she didn't want to involve them more than necessary in the life of the man who had washed her out of the program. She knew her father still harboured feelings about that, and her mother had been livid at the time, although Zarin seemed to have forgiven the now deceased man.

Bashir himself didn't look very happy. She didn't blame him. She had been Curzon and she wasn't interested in sitting through all of the speeches about him, listening to what an amazing person he'd been. It seemed his public profile would always outshine his personal life.

The president of Trill, several people from the TSC, the president of the Federation, Tain, and the Bajoran First Minister all made speeches through which Dax suffered, trying to look as if she were politely paying attention, honouring the memory of her former host.

After what seemed like hours – and indeed, was – the formal ceremony came to an end and those who had been invited to the government reception began to filter toward the private lobby. Bashir moved to follow that particular crowd, since Dax and whichever guests she wanted to bring had been invited, but she grabbed his hand, shaking her head when he looked back at her. He gave her a quizzical look, but she ignored it and tugged him through the crowd in the other direction, raking a hand through her long brown hair to cover her face as much as possible. They wove their way through the press of bodies, out of the building into the rain that had been falling since late morning. There were people milling about everywhere, but Dax knew this area well, thanks to Curzon. The government buildings here were scattered along the side of a steep, well forested river bank. It was toward the river that she led Bashir now, ducking off of the walkway onto a footpath beaten into the underbrush. Bashir followed without a word as Dax led them downhill, away from the crowd. Here, there was only the sound of the breeze, the rustle of rain as it fell on the leaves, and the river as it flowed past them. In the shelter of the woods, they weren't getting nearly as wet as they would have been on the top of the bank.

Dax led them off the path once they were just in sight of the water, into the underbrush. She kept moving until she was certain no one would see them, then took cover under a large evergreen tree whose low, sweeping branches had completely protected the ground around it from getting wet. Last season's dead needle-like leaves and some fresh ones carpeted the ground, providing some cushioning as she sat down. Bashir sat down beside her, giving her a puzzled look.

"I'm sorry," Dax sighed.

"For what? Getting us out of there?"

"For everything. This is so– ridiculous. I'm sorry you had to go through this. Maybe I shouldn't have decided to be joined."

"Hey. No," Bashir said. "I know it's hard now, but it will get easier for you."

"I hope you're right," she admitted. "Curzon was so– Curzon. I think it will help to get back to Earth. I just wish– I wish you were a Trill, Jules, because then this would be easier."

One corner of his mouth twitched.

"I know. But I'm not."

Dax nodded.

"I know."

He took her chin gently between a thumb and a forefinger and kissed her gently on the lips. For a moment, Dax felt a flash of surprise, then utter recognition, then shock at how long it seemed since he had kissed her that way. She felt him start to pull away and grabbed his face, holding it to hers as she kissed him back, hard. She could feel him stiffen in surprise, then relax again, and he did not protest when she pulled him down with her onto the leaf-covered ground.