Three Weeks Later:

Alexander shouldn't have been surprised that his father was suddenly too busy for him. The young Klingon had waited an hour in Quark's bar before being given the message that his father had left the station and would be on convoy duty for the next two weeks. It was of no consequence; he would find some way to entertain himself. He sat nursing a cup of blood wine while taking in his surroundings, he couldn't help noticing one of the Bejoran Dabo girls who ran the table a couple of feet from his seat at the bar. She must have felt his eyes on her because she looked up and offered a flirtatious smile. Alexander returned her pleasantry and then turned his chair on its swivel facing away from the Dabo table.

If he correctly remembered, the woman's name was Glidia, she had attended his father's wedding. He couldn't help noticing the uncanny resemblance to someone he had hoped to forget. Thoughts of Clara Sutton, his childhood friend turned lover would do nothing to help his mood right now. There was no way he was going to let his father or Clara ruin another moment of his life! Though, after his third cup of blood wine, he found that it was easier said than done. He and Clara had met during her dad's tenure on the Enterprise D and had kept in contact through the years after her dad was reassigned. In their senior year of high school, they'd both applied and were accepted into the Pre-Med program with a focus on Frontier Medicine at the prestigious University of Aldeberan located in New Melbourne, an Earth colony on Aldebaran Prime. That first year had been a whirlwind of studying and partying and it wasn't long before their friendship became more. Until Martok, Alexander had never admitted the true reason he had joined the Klingon Defense Force, not even to himself.

'Let's be honest, Lexi you were never cut out to be Klingon...' It had been two years and Clara's words still haunted him. Alexander was determined to prove to not just himself but everyone who doubted him that he could live in either world. That he was meant to follow a warriors path. It was this conviction that turned his thoughts back to his father. For as long as he could remember Worf had tried to be the model Klingon. He followed the traditions, revered the great Kah'less, hell he even brought shame on their family and accepted discommendation for the good of the Empire. If not for Martok they would both be men with no House. Alexanders first week on Quo'Nos he began to understand what his father had felt all these years. The shame of being raised outside the Empire, rarely being around other Klingons and when you were you could see absolute disdain in their eyes. Fortunately for him that look had toned down in the last year. His improved fighting skills, understanding of the language and being a member of an honored house had made things better if not just bearable. Now he was seen as a good Klingon who followed the Klingon path in all matters save one.

When it came to romance, Alex had to admit that he preferred the human way of doing things. The shouting, growling and broken bones, what was the point? It was after one of he and Clara's very human couplings that the subject of his Klingoness or lack thereof came up. They had been laying together in the afterglow of passion, still wrapped in each other's arms. Alexander had nearly drifted off to sleep when he heard a small giggle come from her. He opened his eyes and saw her staring at him with a lustful smile and a curious gleam in her eyes.

'What?' He smiled back.

'Oh, it's nothing.' She shook her head and glanced away. She ran her hand slowly up his torso and rested it on his chest.

'You know I hate when you do that. Tell me what you're thinking.'

'It's no big deal.'

'Tell me, I mean was it not good for you or…'

'No! No, it was amazing like always, it's just…"

'What?' She looked nervous, 'What could she be nervous about?' he thought.

'I was just thinking about our first time.'

'What, was it bad because I distinctly remember you being quite lost in the moment?'

'No, the night was wonderful!'

'Then what?'

'It was different from what I thought it would be is all.'

'What does that mean?' Now he was confused.

'Well, I knew we would eventually get to this point in our relationship, and I did some reading on Klingon sexual relationships.'

'You can't be serious?' Alex smirked.

'I mean I just thought I would end up with a battle scar of some kind.' She chuckled nervously.

'Is that what you want, you want me to break an arm, choke you…?

'I mean I don't know, it's no big deal.' She snuggled closer to him in hopes that he would let the subject go.

'Right.' Alexander sat stoic staring straight ahead.

'Can we just enjoy this moment, yes I was expecting the traditional Klingon romance, but I shouldn't be surprised.'

'And what the hell does that mean?' Alexander sat up and looked her in the eyes.

'See now you're getting angry; can we just change the subject.' Clara stared up at him

'Not until you tell me what you meant by that?'

'Let's be honest, Lexi you were never cut out be Klingon. At least not a traditional Klingon and that's ok.'

'What would you know about Klingon traditions or what it is to be Klingon?' He began to disentangle himself from her.

'I only know what I've seen. I remember back on the Enterprise how hard you tried to fit into the mold your dad carved out for you. I remember the pain in your voice when you told me that your father had left you and Deanna behind to pursue his Klingon faith.'

'I don't want to talk about this.' Talking about his dad while in bed was something that made this situation even more uncomfortable. Alexander stood up from the bed and began to retrieve his clothing from the floor.

'How can you defend him, he hasn't spoken to you in almost five years, Alex! What kind of man abandons his son like that!?' Now she was angry.

'He's a warrior, honor demands sacrifice.' He echoed his father's words from long ago.

'You almost sound like you believe that. Look, babe I don't know how we got here but you shouldn't be ashamed for being who you are. You don't have to bind yourself to Klingon traditions just to prove a point. I just wasn't sure what to expect when Klingon instinct kicked in is all. I'm sorry I mentioned it at all.'

Alexander, now fully dressed replied 'Yea... I have to get to Physics, Professor Gentian needs my help grading mid-terms.' With that he left.

In the next week that followed Alex had made himself busy with his studies and part time work as a T.A. and ignored several messages from Clara. He had thought she was different, but he was wrong. Her mention of Klingon instinct, that was what hit him the hardest. Not cut out to be Klingon? The more he thought and dwelt on her words the angrier and more unsettled he had become. Within a month he had dropped out of college and enlisted in the KDF. He left without an explanation or goodbye. Silence, that's the way it had remained between them for the last two years; that is until this morning when he was awakened by a subspace message alert from Clara. He couldn't begin to imagine why she was contacting him, maybe she just wanted to touch base, talk things over or tell him what an ass he was for leaving without a word to her. Neither possibility appealed to him, so he left the communication unread.

"Hey, isn't a little early to hit the bottle?" Came a familiar voice from beside him. Alexander turned to see the tailor Garak.

"You know what they say, its 5:00 somewhere." Alexander stared down at his empty cup.

"That's one way to look at it I guess…" Garak sat down and motioned for the bar tender to come over. "Can I get a large glass of Kanar." Alex looked curiously at the Cardassian who shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "What can I say I like your way of thinking."

"If you say so." The Klingon pushed his cup away and looked anywhere else but at Garak in fear that the Cardassian would start up one of his infamous interrogations that were disguised as friendly conversation.

"So, who is she?"

"What?" It was starting.

"The woman who has you drowning your woes, what's her name?"

"How do…" Alex sat wide eyed for a moment.

"Nothing but a woman could put that look of dejection on a mans face." He still wore that damned obnoxious smile, the Klingon noted.

"Its none of your concern." Alex hissed.

"Holding these things in aren't healthy, or so I'm told." The tailor replied. Just then the bar tender returned with his drink, and he took a quick gulp. When Alex didn't respond, Garak couldn't help making one more inquiry. "She must be quite a woman?" Again, the Klingon didn't reply, Alex glared at his new bar mate and looked away.

"Anyone ever tell you that you look like Worf when you do that glare thing?" Garak's attempt to break the Klingons silence went unrewarded as Alexander stood and abruptly left the bar. "Like father, like son." Garak noted aloud to no one in particular.