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Subject: NEW DS9: Metamorphosis 3/4 (O/K) [NC-17]
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Title: Metamorphosis
Author: C. Zdroj
Series: DS9
Part: 3/4
Rating: NC-17
See part 1 for Disclaimer, Codes, Warnings

Part 3

****

"I'm sorry this is taking so long, Odo."

The voice of Dr. Julian Bashir was as kind and solicitous as always. Odo
knew that Bashir was trying to help, but at the moment, kind words did
little to relieve the impression that he had become a lab specimen
again--an impression that had only grown stronger over the last week. He
let the grim reflection filter through his mind as he allowed his gaze
to travel from the cold and antiseptic white walls that enclosed him to
the thin blue hospital gown that covered his spare frame. Prophets only
knew how many needles, hypos, and other devices he'd been jabbed with
since coming here. No counting the number of strangers' hands that had
touched and examined his body. "I suppose it's ironic, in a way," he
said quietly. "Starfleet trying to convince itself that I'm really human."

"I don't think there's much question of that, Odo," said Julian, in a
tone that was annoyingly bright and chipper. "It's just that we'd like
to have some idea of *how* it happened. Once we know that, we just might
be able to make you back into a changeling."

"But at the moment, the experts are mystified."

The doctor grimaced, and Odo winced at the tone of his own words. He
knew that he'd sounded ungrateful. Bashir didn't deserve his sarcasm.
He'd been unfailingly kind and concerned ever since they'd left the
station together, and he'd run himself near to exhaustion over the last
week trying to help Starfleet Medical solve the puzzle of just what the
Founders had done to change his physiology. But by now, Odo had grown
tired of being cooperative, and being pitied didn't sit well with him.
It rankled. "I can just imagine the fascinating papers that will emerge
from all this," he mused darkly.

Julian's youthful face looked puzzled, and then deeply concerned. Odo
could have kicked himself. The doctor's next words were soft and
apologetic. "I'm sorry, Odo. I suppose this must seem little different
to you than being in Dr. Mora's lab."

"Very little," Odo admitted, somewhat appeased.

"It was thoughtless of me to have agreed to this so quickly. I should
have realized ..."

"Never mind, Doctor," Odo returned, forcing himself to display the
gruffness that he always used to deflect personal discussions. "I
imagine that Starfleet Medical wasn't ready to take no for an answer."

Julian nodded and there was a momentary silence. Odo was relieved when
that silence was broken by the appearance of a smart-looking young woman
in a med-tech's uniform, who suddenly appeared in the doorway of the
tiny room. She smiled at both of them. "Well, that's it for now,
gentlemen. We should have the results back in just an hour or two." She
paused, then directed her gaze at Bashir. "Would you care to step
outside with me, Doctor?" she queried. Bashir nodded his assent and
followed her out. The woman threw a kindly glance at the ex-changeling
perched on the examination table. "You can put your clothes back on, Mr.
Odo." Then the door closed and Odo was left, finally, alone with his
thoughts.

He waited, unmoving, until the voices had faded away down the hall
before he slipped carefully from the examination table. His sense of
balance in his new form had improved markedly in a matter of days. He no
longer had to worry about blundering into walls or tripping over
himself. The tile was reassuringly cool and solid against the soles of
his bare feet. He pulled off the flimsy hospital gown and allowed
himself a good look in the mirror at his new body. Odo frowned. The legs
still looked too thin to him, despite Bashir's assurances that they were
perfectly normal, given his weight and height. Odo reflected that his
entire body looked somewhat thin--even fragile. He pressed cautious
hands against his lower abdomen. His digestive system was still behaving
pettishly, assaulting him with minor bouts of nausea when he least
expected it.

While he had grown used to many of its idiosyncrasies with remarkable
quickness--according to the self-proclaimed "experts" who'd been
charting his progress--Odo still found the body he lived in to be a
mystery. He knew what to feed it, and thanks to many long, agonizing
hours of its protestations, he now had a good idea what not to feed it.
After a series of painfully humiliating "accidents," he'd learned how to
clean and relieve himself. He had even experienced a few dreams that
could only be categorized as ... erotic ....

He pulled his mind abruptly from *that* train of thought and sighed
heavily, recalling that hazy time with Nerys, just after the
transformation. Even in that initial agony and helplessness, there had
been a singular bliss in being close to her, in touching her. Those
hours--those days--had passed as a blur. He remembered them now as if
through a mist, through his body's memories of being connected to her.
Nothing from that time seemed real except the isolated images of
closeness that still returned to haunt him--her hands lifting water to
his lips, her voice pulling him out of dreams that had left him sweating
and trembling, her lips brushing his skin ... brushing away tears. In
the cramped, dark humidity of the tiny room on that wretched Klingon
ship, she had been his only connection to the world that lay outside his
own fevered mind.

He felt himself flushing as a slow fire crept in between his thighs and
the new genitalia proved just how well they were functioning. Yet there
was also a ghost of pain and panic hovering at the edge of his mind. The
nightmares from that time still cycled endlessly through his sleep and
sometimes visited his waking thoughts in half-remembered fragments. One
moment he was drowning in the Link, and the next he was back in the
darkness of the old Terok Nor station, seeking some nonexistent refuge
from Bajoran prejudice and Cardassian brutality--from his own deeply
buried guilt and fear.

With trembling fingers, Odo began to shake out the neatly folded uniform
on the chair nearby. He had learned to distract himself from his own
memories quite efficiently over the last week and a half. He was still
meticulous about things, and now he dressed himself carefully, slowly,
examining the cut of his uniform in the mirror and smoothing its tunic
portion carefully down over his chest. Wearing clothing still felt ...
unnatural to him--confining. He was adjusting his still-too-itchy wool
collar when Julian came back for him, politely knocking at the door first.

Odo straightened. "Come in," he said soberly, placing his hands behind
his back and standing to attention.

"Well Constable, I've got good news and bad for you," the young doctor
informed him. "The bad news is that we still have no idea how the
Founders changed you."

"So what's the good news?"

"The good news is that they can't think of any more tests to give you."
Julian paused and gave Odo a knowing grin. "So I suggest we leave here
within the hour--before they devise any new ones."

Odo allowed himself a bitter little return smile. "For once, Doctor, I
agree with you completely."

****

Deep, unrestrained sobbing echoed through the room. She moved forward
hesitantly in the dark until she could see the thin figure on the bed,
tossing restlessly. In the dim light she saw tears streaking the smooth,
pale face. The eyes were closed. He was asleep. She reached out to touch
the soft skin and the eyes came open, stricken as they gazed at her. Her
heart was pierced. He recoiled from her and there was suddenly blood
pouring from his temple, blood on her hands ....

****

Kira woke up shivering. It was a moment or two before she realized
exactly where she was--in her own quarters. Spare, uncluttered ... empty
and silent. For a moment she felt a pang as she recalled the lost
coziness of the O'Brien family quarters, but she pushed that thought
away from her almost immediately. She fidgeted a moment with the tangled
sheets and then decided that she was too unsettled to sleep. She needed
something to do. Captain Sisko had relieved her of duty almost the
moment she'd set foot back on the station, advising her to "get some
rest" while the care of Odo was handed over to Dr. Bashir. Kira could
still see the deserted, almost baffled look on her friend's face as
Julian had gently led him away from her and to the infirmary.

Thoughtfully, she ran one hand back and forth over her belly, quieting
the child within her. The remembered look of utter despair in Odo's
clear blue eyes lingered with her for long moments in the darkness. She
had not seen him at all for almost two weeks while he'd been with Julian
at Starfleet medical, undergoing tests to appease the Federation science
experts. She frowned, recalling how Odo despised labs and tests. She had
wanted to go with him, but Julian had all but ordered her to remain on
the station, and in her current physical state she had not dared to defy
him. Odo had been back on the station for almost a week and a half now,
resuming his old duties as head of Security, but Kira had seen him only
in passing and at staff meetings, had barely exchanged a word with him.
Perhaps they had been so unbearably close in those hours following his
transformation that somehow ... something had changed in their
relationship that neither one of them had the courage to face.

*"I love you, Nerys..."*

She pushed the words from her mind--fevered words, meaningless. *As
meaningless as that dream of making love to him?* Asked the softly
sarcastic voice in her mind. She chose to ignore it, and continued to
run her hand along her oversized stomach, reflecting. She was still
having problems with premature lactation. Julian was at a loss to
explain it. Some bizarre hormone interaction, he'd suggested, caused by
the decidedly unnatural phenomenon of a Bajoran woman carrying a human
fetus. Not that Kira really cared about scientific explanations at this
point. The memory of Odo, practically a helpless infant himself, feeding
from her body, was something that clung to the edges of her awareness
with all the haunting persistence of one of the sacred orb visions. It
was a memory that she both treasured and feared.

His sudden absence from her life ached like a wound. She would catch
glimpses of his sad face, now and then, and would find herself longing,
with sudden, pulsing urgency, to wrap her arms around him, to hold him
tight against herself and tell him that everything was going to be all
right. But something always stopped her--something forbidding in his
stoic, solitary grief. For grief it surely was, that he carried with him
everywhere. He looked bleak all the time now, like the winters she had
known as a child in Dahkur province. He was closed off to everyone, as
though he were living entirely within himself. It chilled Kira to look
at him. If she made a movement toward him, he would turn away. She
sighed. Shakaar Edon had tried to contact her from Bajor several times
in the last few days. She had returned none of her lover's calls, nor
did she want to now. Something at the core of her heart had changed, but
she was at a loss to explain what it was. Her emotions were tangled ...
she needed to sort them out.

Kira sat up and let her feet touch the floor. She stood carefully,
heavily, and moved across the room to the icon that she kept in the far
corner. She settled herself before it, sitting on the floor and crossing
her legs as best she could in the typical Bajoran meditative pose. The
child stirred inside her body, restless, as she tried to focus her pagh.
She closed her eyes and listened to her own breathing, imagined that she
could feel the child's heartbeat as well as her own. As she had in those
cramped little quarters on Dukat's ship, hunched over Odo's motionless
form, she let the words flow out of her like water, let whatever
thoughts come that wished to find her. "E tana ma-shae, e voor il i nma
i mei sul..." *Let me hear my own heart ... I am listening ...*

*****

Odo tilted the glass in the muted light of Quark's bar to peer through
the amber liquid. After little more than four weeks as a solid, even the
memory of being able to shapeshift was beginning to fade away. He
sometimes felt as though he'd always lived in this body. That should
have been a comforting thought, but it wasn't. Grimacing, he took
another swallow of his beer.

"Hmmmph," Quark snorted at his elbow, with typical Ferengi impertinence,
"Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you?"

Odo didn't even deign to look at him. "Go away, Quark."

"Major Kira came by a little while ago. She was looking for you. Seemed
kinda worried if you ask me. But then I suppose you wouldn't be
interested in *that.*"

Odo swallowed the liquid, let the bitter taste flow down his throat. He
didn't want to think about Nerys now. He couldn't bear it. The problem
was, he couldn't stop himself from thinking of her. He drained his drink
and then shoved the empty glass back at Quark. The Ferengi left to get
him a refill, shaking his head, while Odo tried without success to
convince himself that he hadn't just seen a worried look on Quark's
lumpish face.

Odo was rather proud that he'd managed to drink an entire glass of beer
without feeling any ill effects. The first time he'd tried real
alcohol--about five days ago--he'd been violently sick for half the
night. Quark and Julian had sat up with him throughout those hellish
hours, holding his head over the toilet because he'd been too weak and
faint to keep himself upright. The memory of that night was not
something that Odo cherished--and yet he'd returned to alcohol
relatively soon thereafter, learning to handle it with greater care. He
now stayed clear of the more potent liquors that might make wreak havoc
on his still-fussy digestive system. Yet he'd grown uneasily fond of
alcohol, of its tranquilizing effects. He appreciated the way it tended
to make his comprehension ... fuzzy. Perhaps it was a weakness he'd
inherited from his short-lived joining with Curzon Dax, but he found
that drink-induced haziness made his life seem more bearable. Initially
he'd worried about his public image, about being seen in the act of
consuming liquor by Quark's other patrons--by the Starfleet officers he
worked with ... or by Nerys. The funny thing was, the more he drank, the
more he didn't care what anyone thought of him. As far as he was
concerned, they could all go to whatever hell they believed in.

Odo didn't believe in hell--unless it was the hell of his own life.

He rose without saying a word and tossed some slips of latinum on the
table. Quark,  holding the refilled beer mug, grumbled and shook his
head in disbelief as he watched the constable leave. "Suit yourself," he
muttered under his breath. "You probably wouldn't know what to *do* with
her if you got her."

****

At the end of his duty shift, Odo made his reluctant way back to his
quarters. When he'd originally acquired them, having his own rooms had
been a sign of independence. Now, his once-cherished personal space had
come to feel as alien as the new body he was trapped in. Just another
kind of cage. His life, it seemed, had been spent in moving from one
cage to another. For a while, he had fooled himself into thinking that
he could learn to be a shapeshifter with a few oddments of sculpture in
a room by himself. But that was only shifting. It wasn't linking. He'd
gotten rid of the sculptures and wall-hangings, of course--all the
artwork. They served no purpose now other than to remind him of what
he'd lost, even more forcefully than the smooth face that stared at him
from the mirror, unaltered. He'd told Doctor Bashir that he thought his
people had left it there as a reminder of what he'd once been. Actually
he was grateful, wretchedly grateful to Them for allowing him to keep
the face he'd grown used to thinking of as his own. Perhaps it wasn't
handsome, but it was *his.*

He entered his rooms with no wish for anything other than the oblivion
of sleep--not that he actually expected to find it. He'd come to dread
the nights alone in his quarters. While he was on duty he could at least
try to distract himself, but here, he would be alone with his
thoughts--his dreams. He didn't expect to find any comfort in solitude
when he opened the doors to his quarters.

He certainly didn't expect to find Kira Nerys asleep on his sofa.

"Computer ..." he stopped in mid-thought as he saw her lying there,
silhouetted by the starlight coming in through the wide viewport.

"Waiting," said the computer mechanically.

Odo straightened, he had been about to call up the lights. "Never mind,"
he said softly, more to himself than anyone or anything else.

He approached her sleeping figure slowly, blinking in disbelief, certain
at first that he must have hallucinated her into existence. But her
image did not waver and vanish as he stared at her. Her soft, even
breathing was the only sound in the darkened rooms.

For a long moment he just let himself gaze at her, a slight figure
despite her by now advanced pregnancy. In fact, her heavy belly seemed
to emphasize her slightness in a curious way. Odo felt a little tremble
in his body when he saw her. She looked vulnerable this way, and the
familiar, sweet ache that he had been plagued with for so long returned
in full force. He tried to shut out the memory of having touched her, of
her tenderness to him during those long hours of darkness and confusion
that still plagued his dreams.

He crouched beside the sofa and allowed his hand to caress her cheek.
Her eyelids fluttered and lifted slowly. She gazed up at him with dark,
sleepy eyes and smiled. "Odo ..."

He felt an overpowering urge to kiss her. Instead, he only said "Hello,
Nerys."

Her expression changed slightly, becoming shyer, perhaps a little
guilty. "I'm sorry--I ... I let myself in. I must have fallen asleep."

Odo was silent for a moment, not sure what the proper response was. The
fact that his brain was fogged with alcohol didn't help matters any.

"Nerys--" he began hesitantly.

"We need to talk, Odo," she said softly. She studied his features for
several moments, then put a hand up to touch his face. "You look so
tired," she said, and the sympathy in her voice made him want to cringe.
"What's wrong?"

He shook his head. There were so many things wrong, to try to articulate
them all, or to separate them from each other in his present state of
mind was simply too great an effort.

Kira's hand gently toyed with the loose fabric of his tunic. Odo
reflected how strange it was to watch her hands touching his uniform and
to be able to feel that touch only indirectly.

She looked up at him with an expression that was both solicitous and
hurt. "You've been avoiding me ever since you came back from Starfleet
Medical." It was a statement, not a question. She lowered her eyes. "I
guess I can understand why you might feel ... uncomfortable with me
after everything that's happened, but I--hate to think that I might have
offended you in some way --"

"You didn't," he broke in, feeling a sudden catch in his throat. "You
..." his voice became a very tight whisper. "I was glad that you were
there. I--I needed you there."

Kira said nothing. She kept her eyes down and merely nodded. Her hand
slipped gently over his and gave it a light squeeze. "I moved out of the
O'Brien's quarters," she told him.

"I don't imagine that the Chief was very happy about that."

"No," Kira admitted, "And I can only imagine what Keiko will say when
she gets back from Bajor--but I had to do it. It was getting so that I
felt like I couldn't breathe. Like on that ship of Dukat's ..." She
paused. "I think Miles is afraid that the Founders are going to spirit
me away again some night."

Odo's voice was very low, solicitous "Are *you* afraid of that, Nerys?"

"I've had some interesting nightmares lately," she sighed.

"That's my fault." He could feel her breath on his cheek and drew back
abruptly as he realized how close his own face was to hers. Kira looked
up at him.

"Don't be silly."

"They were using you to get at me," he said quietly, half to himself. "I
should have realized they would try that sooner or later."

"What do you mean?"

There was an uncomfortable silence. "I just--should have known they'd
come after my friends, that's all." He studied her face as she
considered this. His stomach, now that he had one, felt as though it
were tightening into knots.

"Don't blame yourself," she touched his face again, gently. Her eyes
were dark pools of such concern that for a moment he thought... *No.* He
cut the idea off abruptly. It was impossible. He looked away and Kira
drew her hand back. She changed the subject.

"I noticed that you removed all sculptures," she said quietly, "The
place seems pretty empty now."

Odo shrugged. "There was no point in keeping them. I can't use them
anymore."

"I figured that had to be it. I don't blame you. I guess I just ...
liked them. They made it sort of--*your* room."

Touched, Odo managed a smile for her. His voice came out of him in a
whisper. "I'm glad you liked them."

She took both his hands and gazed earnestly into his face. "Odo,
how--how are you? I mean--really? We haven't talked in so long ..."

He averted his eyes, ashamed. "I've--I've been busy."

"You don't lie very well, you know," she smiled sadly. Odo was seized by
a sudden desire to melt into the floor. The fact that it was no longer
possible seemed the ultimate cruel joke.

"Odo--for Prophets' sake what is it? After all we've been through, you
can't tell me?"

He said nothing. She leaned forward to kiss him lightly on the mouth. He
let her. She drew back and gazed at him, troubled. "You've been drinking."

"Yes," said Odo. "I've been drinking. If you ask Dr. Bashir, I'm sure
that he can tell you exactly how much I've been drinking."

"I didn't believe Quark when he told me." She gazed at him with pleading
eyes. "Odo, what's going on? This isn't you."

He let go of her hand. His voice became a shade cooler. "With all due
respect, Major, I don't think you really know me well enough to tell me
what *is* and *isn't* me." He let his bitterness fall into the silence.

"Is it really that bad?"

"Yes," he said, miserably. He looked up at her with sudden fire in his
eyes. "Have you ever had someone explain your own anatomy to you--had to
ask how ... certain things work?" He averted his gaze. "It's been
humiliating."

"I'm sorry. I wish I'd been there to help."

Odo relented. "Dr. Bashir did what he could ..." he said lamely.

"But they still don't know how the Founders changed you."

"No."

Kira seemed to grope for her next words. "Edon has been trying to call
me for days," she blurted nonsensically. "I haven't returned the calls."
She looked at Odo with a kind of desperation in her eyes. "This is going
to sound silly--but I think I ... I think I had to come here. I think
the Prophets ... *made* me look for you. I just --I seem to need you
with me right now."

She looked at him searchingly. Then tentatively, she leaned forward
again. Her lips found his mouth, and she kissed him with studied
gentleness. He never moved. "Odo ..." her whisper was soft and tender
and she drew away and kissed him again lightly on the cheek, on the
temple, rubbed the side of her face against his own. "Why didn't you
tell me that you loved me before?" she pleaded, her voice a husky
whisper filled with submerged passion. Odo's mind screamed at him that
this could not be happening, but all he could do was kiss her back. His
lips, his hands, were numb, but he drew her to him anyway, as though in
a dream. 	

She ran gentle hands over his clothed chest, but the touch was still
fire. Odo shut his eyes. His heart was pounding. His voice emerged as a
croak. "Nerys ... please."

"Tell me you don't want me, and I'll leave." She kissed his mouth again,
and this time her tongue slid gently past his lips and he heard himself
groan.

The child inside her kicked strongly. He felt her heart beating in
tandem with his own. The sensations were suddenly and blessedly
familiar. Odo sighed. His hands moved slowly, gently over Kira's back.

He opened his mouth to her fully, allowed the soft exploration of her
tongue, shivered at the terrifying intimacy of the touch. Her mouth was
sweet and moist, her closeness almost too much to bear. He wasn't
certain if the soft sounds coming from the back of his throat were
spurred by pleasure or by fear. Kira drew back, an expression of concern
on her face. "Should I stop?" she asked gently.

"I ... no," he whispered, his voice thicker than usual. "I don't want
you to stop--but I've never--I mean..."

"Shhhh ...." She pressed her forehead against his. He felt her fingers
gently ruffling through the hair at the back of his head. "You've given
so much to me. I never realized how I ..." There were tears in her
voice. He heard her swallowing them. "Let me give you this. Let me love
you back .... Please ... don't push me away."

He shut his eyes and let her words flow over him, just as before--and
her kisses with them, this time. Kisses that were sweet on his cheeks
and temples, his throat ... everywhere. The heat of her body was a soft
mist that clung to him, loosening his muscles. Her lips found his again
and he offered no resistance. He surrendered to her completely as a
now-familiar heat flared into life  in the lower regions of his torso.
Her kisses flowed over his face, touching his cheeks and eyelids. His
neck arched back just slightly, and she accepted the hesitant offering,
kissing along his throat to the collar of his uniform, and then back to
his mouth, which now shaped itself to hers with very little effort. For
several heartbeats there was no thought, only sensation as their bodies
slowly merged, coming together with rising intensity.

His breath caught as he felt her hands gently slipping inside his tunic
and over his chest, massaging, kneading his flesh, finding his nipples
and gently squeezing, pulling a soft gasp out of him. After some
disconcerted fumbling, the uniform top slid from his shoulders and fell
softly to the floor.

She let her lips brush teasingly over his and then dipped her head to
kiss his collarbone. There was a strange reverence in the touch. Kira
moved lower, delicately licking at his right nipple. Odo gasped as the
light tickle became a gentle, insistent nibbling. Her hands surprised
him again, this time slipping beneath the waist of his trousers  and
sliding them partway down his hips. She reached between his thighs with
a sure and gentle hand, soothing the ache that burned there. He groaned
softly as he felt the touch. Her hand moved along the erect shaft of his
penis with gentle care, and Odo's hips moved slowly in rhythmic answer,
rubbing himself against her in silent want. "You like that, don't you?"
she whispered, her voice tender and seductive. She drew his shaking
hands up to the back of her own neck. "Why don't you help me out of this?" 	

He fumbled with the zipper of her blousy  tunic and she kissed him
again. Soft and welcoming. Warmth seemed to flow into him from her mouth
and her fingertips. "It's all right," she murmured against his ear. "Go
ahead and just pull it off." The tunic came free easily, to Odo's
astonishment.  His hands moved slowly, wonderingly, over Kira's warm,
soft flesh with an apparent will of their own. His mouth found and
kissed her temple, then moved to her neck and shoulders, tentative.
Kira's body arched appreciatively in his arms, her skin caressing his.
There were more kisses, sweet and exploratory, and somehow, despite
flushing with embarrassment, they managed to discard the last remnants
of their clothing. Odo stood awkwardly, helped Kira to her feet.

For a moment she just stood there with her hands in his, regarding his
face--his body--with new awareness. She had seen him naked, at the edge
of the Link, and after that, all through the time she had stayed with
him on Dukat's ship. He was as slender and fragile-looking as he had
been then, but now his skin was flushed and his eyes were bright with
some emotion that hovered between expectation and uncertainty. Kira
slipped her arms around his waist for a moment and drew him close.

Feeling as though he still walked through a dream, took her hands and
led her to the bedroom, where she gently pushed him onto his back on the
unmade, welcoming bed. She began to kiss him again, slowly now but
eagerly, as if she were tasting him. Lips ... chin ... neck ... throat
... shoulders ... breastbone ... nipples. He lay still, letting her do
exactly as she pleased. The touches moved down his form with a slow,
rising warmth. Swirls and prickles of sensation swelled within him every
place she touched. Her hands, her mouth, moved everywhere now.

"Nerys ..." he whispered hoarsely, helpless to do anything but repeat
her name.

"It's alright. There's nothing to be afraid of."  He shivered
uncontrollably at the warmth in her voice, at the sensation of her
breath against his skin.	

Odo felt his fingertips seized and suddenly pressed against the warm,
pliant flesh of Kira's belly. The child within her moved, and he closed
his eyes as he felt it. It dimly occurred to him that this child might
have been his. For his own body was now presumably capable of such minor
miracles. He heard Kira sigh, and opened his eyes to gaze up at the
silhouette of her beautifully sculpted body. He couldn't move. He lay
there on the bed--naked and vulnerable and aroused, and for once,
completely unashamed of his body and its needs. He felt the light
pressure of her hand as she almost casually reached down to stroke the
trembling shaft of his penis. He closed his eyes, feeling her touch
someplace deep at the core of himself--someplace never touched before--a
place that was still tender and painful with scarred-over hurts. Her
hands ran gently, lovingly over the fragile organ, and then from his
abdomen to his shoulders and back.

Her voice was warm with affection as her hands stroked his body. "You're
beautiful."

*Beautiful.* The word was a caress, and he didn't reject it. A small
whimper of pleasure, the tiniest sound, managed to pass his lips as his
body responded to her touch. His back arched and soft animal sounds
escaped his throat. He felt her hands caressing his lower abdomen. There
was a soft flicker of wet warmth against his erection, and his fingers
clutched involuntarily at the tangled sheets as her mouth gently closed
over him. He trembled and cried out, mewling helplessly like a kitten,
found his fingers reaching down to tangle in her short, thick hair. Dear
Prophets, he was going to faint ... or die ... from this. His soft cries
became insensible to him as she devoured him with gentle eagerness.
"Nerys ... Oh Prophets ... please, Nerys, please ...." His fragile,
humanoid body twisted as a wave of exquisite pleasure went quivering
through it. Pleasure like and not like the joining in the Link. As in
the Link, the feelings came in waves--softly, gently invasive. Waves of
sensation pulsed through him, contorting his body. "Nerys..." Her mouth
sought his again, stifling his cries. He so craved her touch that it was
unbearable. The caressing went on, slow and inexorable, her hands, her
mouth on his body, everywhere. The kisses went on forever, searching his
mouth, bathing his body in circles of warmth that joined him to her.
Everything was a sensory blur. His hips strained against her in a
dream-like haze of need and pleasure. He longed in his deepest self to
become liquid and wrap his body around hers, to touch her everywhere, to
drown all pain in the awareness of her body and his own. His hands roved
over her skin with fluid ease, his mouth sought her breasts. Her milk
wet his lips and tongue, fed his hunger--the hunger he had lived with
all his life. Hunger for warmth and touch and belonging. She reached up
to touch his face, and some part of him was lucid enough to let him
reach back and trace the contour of her cheek with shaking fingertips.
He looked up, and her dark eyes held him.

*Don't be afraid,* they said.

With some effort, owing to the burden of her swollen belly, she
straddled his narrow hips, and he felt the slick wetness between her
thighs slowly coating his erection. She moved like water against him. He
shivered as she opened herself to his body. He moved against her
fractionally and she felt his hesitation. "It's all right," she
whispered, coaxing. "Come into me." Her weight shifted decisively, and
he gasped,  feeling himself sheathed inside her warm, fluid, slickness.
Kira groaned softly as she felt him there. She moved slowly, surely
against him and Odo's hips jerked almost frantically in response. He
gasped her name amidst meaningless cries that blurred into soft animal
sounds of passion. His body became the movement against her, thrusting
over and over. There was only that movement, primal as ocean waves, and
the wanting, the sweet, warm wetness inside her, and need for
merging--for *linking.* She contracted around him, and he shuddered. His
orgasm welled out of him in long, shuddering sobs. The semen burst from
him and spilled into her like pent up emotion.

For long moments he lay gasping beneath her in the silence, feeling the
heart inside his chest thudding against his ribcage. She murmured soft
words of comfort against his skin. She held him fiercely, tenderly,
until his passion had spent itself, then gently shifted off him to lie
on her side with her arm around his waist. Time seemed to stop for that
interval and the universe was the two of them, clinging together, melded
and joined by the shared warmth of their bodies. He felt her brush away
something wet that clung to his face.

"I'm sorry, Nerys..."

She kissed the tears once more from his face. "No ... Just be quiet now.
There's nothing to be sorry for." She kissed him again. It was warm and
satisfying and Odo had no trouble returning her passion. Her mouth was
familiar now, and his tongue explored its inner contours eagerly, almost
of its own accord. Kira's soft little cry of delight as he deepened the
kiss both added to his pleasure and deepened his pain.

"I love you," she whispered, winding herself around his body and closing
her eyes.

Odo held her and said nothing. It was a long time before he followed her
into sleep.

****	

Kira was surprised to find herself curled on the  floor when she
awakened. An unforgiving, metal floor. She recognized the cold, gray
architecture and knew that she'd been here before. In the semi-darkness,
she reached out for Odo. The thin fabric covering his shoulders was
coarse and rough under her hands as she shook him awake. He turned onto
his back, and when his eyes opened at last, he seemed to start in panic.
His gaze flicked apprehensively to the ceiling, to the stack of crates
beside them, before coming to rest on her face. "Where--how did we get
back here?" he whispered. There was a hoarse, pleading note in his voice.

Her fingers reached out in the dimness to touch his cheek. She could
feel bone beneath the soft flesh. "We know this place."

Odo sat up, leaned back against the crates, and closed his eyes. He
spoke so softly that Kira had to strain to hear him. "... but that was
... so long ago. This isn't right. It can't be." The words were almost a
prayer, as if he were trying to reassure himself. When he opened his
eyes, they were more bleak-looking than she'd ever seen them. "It should
be over," he whispered. We shouldn't have to keep coming back ... here."

She reflected. "Maybe we forgot something. Maybe we left something here
and need to find it--to bring it back."

Odo seemed to take no comfort from that statement. She watched him
withdraw into silence and apprehension.

She crouched beside him in the somber half-light, put a hand on his
knee. "Look--it's okay," she soothed. "We'll figure it out." She paused,
glancing over her shoulder. "We probably shouldn't stay here, though.
The Cardassians don't appreciate vagrants." She stood slowly, helped
pull Odo to his feet. A heavy footstep made her turn around. She was not
surprised to see Gul Dukat again. The Cardassian was wearing his usual
insolent smile. It took her a moment to realize that the smile was
intended for Odo, not for her.

"Well done, shapeshifter. I take it that this is one of our would-be
assassins?" he asked, giving a cursory nod in Kira's direction.

"No," said Odo, his tone dangerously level. "She's done nothing."

"Really?" said Dukat, stepping closer and taking Kira's chin in his
hand. She held still, glaring at him. "I hope that you of all people
aren't starting to be deceived by pretty faces."

Kira jerked her chin away. Dukat smiled again.

"I've never given you any reason to doubt my word," growled Odo. "She's
innocent."

"Hmmm ... aren't they all?"

Kira, feeling irrationally protective, planted herself squarely in front
of the Cardassian, holding his gaze with her own. Dukat's expression
chilled her.

"Just remember what I said, shapeshifter. Sooner or later, you have to
tell her. Do you suppose she'll forgive you?"

Then he was gone--as if he'd vanished while Kira blinked her eyes. She
heard a threatening rumble nearby, the groan of shifting steel, seemed
to feel the deck-plating giving way beneath her feet. Kira turned in
time to see Odo collapsing against the stack of crates. The metal
containers swayed perilously, and she reached for his hand, pulling him
away just as the world fell down all around them. They fell with it,
together, crouching on the cold floor and  covering their heads with
their arms, in the midst of commotion like a barrage of gunfire.

When the noise was swallowed at last by an unnatural silence, Kira found
that she was still clutching Odo's arm. To her great surprise, no
Cardassian guards arrived to haul them away. No onlookers gathered to
survey the damage. The two of them were utterly alone. Odo was shivering
and gasping for breath. They remained huddled on the floor for several
moments. Odo was murmuring under his breath, his words soft and rapid.
"I didn't mean to. I swear, I never meant for it to happen that way."

She tried to pull him up, but his body seemed heavier than usual. He
remained slumped on the floor.

"Odo...?" She paused, as some vague suspicion seemed to gel in her mind.
She spoke slowly as the idea completed itself. "Did you bring us here?"

Odo nodded, unable to meet her eyes. He half-raised himself, slowly--the
action seemed to take a great deal of effort. Somehow they had come to
be on the upper level of the promenade. Odo gripped the rail with one
shaking hand, and then raised the other to point directly across the way
at the scene that was transpiring. Kira squinted into the shadows and as
she did so, she saw three figures take shape, seemingly out of the
air--three Bajoran men, their faces set in the resigned manner that only
the condemned wear. As Kira watched, a Cardassian guard stepped up to
the first of them, pressing the barrel of a disruptor to the man's
chest. She watched him fall in slow motion. The other prisoners were
dispatched in the same brutal manner. As the last of them fell, Kira's
gaze was drawn upward to another figure that suddenly materialized--a
tall man with smooth features, dressed in the dark, heavily-padded
uniform of a Cardassian civilian official. He gazed impassively upon the
fallen bodies of the prisoners until they melted back into the darkness.
The alien officer looked up and directly across at Kira, with a
dispassionate, grimly satisfied expression. Then he too vanished from sight.

Kira looked down. Odo was still beside her on the floor, quivering as if
he were moments away from collapsing into gelatinous form. "That ... was
you there ...." she told him slowly, hearing the astonishment and horror
in her own voice.

Odo gave a silent nod.

"I don't understand."

"They ... should not have died. Those deaths ... are my fault."

She was unable to move or speak, paralyzed by disbelief.

And then Odo vanished from the cold metal floor beside her, and she was
left alone.

****

Odo found himself sobbing into his pillow. The room materialized around
him slowly as he came out of the dream. The first thing that he became
aware of was Kira's body, the heat and softness of her curled against
him. *Dear Prophets ... we didn't ....* But he could feel her skin
against his own. She was clinging to him, as naked as he was. His mind
reeled with the memory of her lips on his own, of her hands, her mouth,
on his body. The warmth, the passion that had surged through him. It
hadn't been a dream. They had made love. Their bodies had been
intimately ... linked. He drew a soft breath in the darkness, afraid to
move lest he shatter the reality of this moment.

Cautiously, he reached out and let his hand touch Kira's cheek, stroking
her hair away from her face. His hand paused in its tentative journey
along her temple, then he froze as he sensed another presence in the
room. Some blind instinct, some knowledge that remained with him in
spite of all that he had lost, told him that he and Kira were no longer
alone. Odo drew the breath slowly into his lungs and let it out. He kept
his eyes focused on Kira's sleeping features for a long moment before he
sat up slowly and began to look around the room. He stood decisively and
peered into the darkness.

"I know you're here," he whispered to the empty air. "And I know that
you can hear me. So why don't you stop this game and tell me what you want?"

On the periphery of his vision, something moved, and Odo turned to watch
as a golden glow blossomed to life in one corner of the room--a part of
the wall. It expanded and grew, rippled and changed, until Odo beheld a
humanoid visage, mask-like as his own, and a humanoid form, clothed in
simple garments. The other changeling looked at him in amusement. "I see
it didn't take you long to fit in with them," it observed wryly, looking
Odo's slender frame up and down. Only now did it occur to Odo that his
vulnerable humanoid body was fully exposed to the other shapeshifter.
But he no longer cared. He drew himself straighter, met the changeling's
look with a gaze of blue steel.

The changeling turned his attention on the sleeping Kira. "So you've
coupled with her." The observation seemed charged with both amusement
and disgust. "... engaged in one of their animal mating rituals. I
suppose that's what you wanted." The expressionless eyes turned back to
Odo. "Does it please you?" The other changeling held out his hand and
Odo watched his own hand reach out to clasp it, as though it were
helpless to resist. He watched the other shapeshifter's hand go liquid,
felt the amber gel flowing around his own solid fingers. He gasped and
closed his eyes. It was not a Link, not a proper Link. But some part of
him still remembered that singular joy. His breath came hard and sharp.
"Tell me," the other changeling whispered seductively, "was it worth
losing your connection to the Great Link? Does it ... satisfy you?"
Without warning, the liquid touch of a single fingertip reached even
lower and drew a line of fire down his genitals. The barest touch. It
was agony. Odo gasped and struggled, and at last wrenched himself away.

The other changeling watched him expressionlessly, and Odo turned his
body to the wall, ashamed.

"Leave me," he grated hoarsely, cradling his violated hand against his
chest as though it had been burned.  "This is what you made me, and I've
accepted it. I won't beg for you to change me back."

Surprisingly, the other changeling did not argue with him. "As you
wish," came the soft reply. "You haven't told her, have you?" Odo looked
up into a sly and knowing smile, just before the other changeling faded
away into the architecture of the station. Odo was barely aware of its
departure. His head was suddenly pounding again, his mind crowded with
memories. His humanoid body was suddenly as claustrophobic as it had
been the moment that he had emerged from the Link. His groin was still
throbbing with unanswered need. His breath came in sharp, painful gasps.
He glanced back at the bed, at Kira. *No.* He couldn't. He would not use
her body again to sate his own need and comfort his own insecurities. He
had to get out of here.

He dressed himself in the darkness. Touch had always been enough to
guide him through his quarters. A shadow of the changeling sense of
exactly where things ought to be still lingered with him. He moved
softly, so as not to waken Kira. It occurred to him that she might worry
if she woke up to find him gone. But at the moment the need to get out
of the confining space, if not out of his confining body, was uppermost
in his awareness. He drew the soft folds of the twisted sheets and
blankets gently over Kira while she remained blissfully asleep. She
didn't even stir at the touch. He hesitated, then allowed himself to
kiss her briefly on the forehead. She murmured something he couldn't
make out and rubbed her cheek against her pillow. He waited only long
enough to be certain that she had settled back into sleep.

Once the doors to his quarters had shut behind him, Odo headed
straight for the promenade and Quark's bar. He grimaced at the utter
predictability of his own actions. *That's right, drown your failures in
alcohol--like any other weak humanoid.* He ignored the odd look that
Quark gave him as he seated himself in front of the bar.

"Isn't it a little late for you to be about, Constable--when you're off
duty, I mean?" asked Quark, in a tone of voice that Odo couldn't quite
read. *Concern, perhaps?* Odo snorted to himself. *Never.*

"Whiskey," he said tersely, leaning forward with his elbows on the bar.
"And I'm always on duty."

Quark glanced warily over his shoulder. "Whatever you say. By the way,
have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?"

Odo chuckled morbidly. "Oh, yes." He glanced up at the Ferengi. "Look
like hell, don't I?" he smiled.

Quark backed away slightly. "Look, if you trip over something on your
way home, I won't be held liable--"

"If I wanted to chat I'd be sitting next to Morn," growled Odo. "Are you
running a bar or a psychiatric clinic?"

"All right, all right. Fine." Quark poured out a tall glass of the dark
fluid, pushing it across the table to Odo, who squinted at it in the
neon lighting and took a swallow, savoring the bitter flavor and the
burn down his throat. He finished the drink in a few forced gulps and
then rose.

He looked down to find Quark eyeing him with undisguised worry.
"Odo--you all right? You look like you've just seen a ..."

"I'll be fine, growled Odo. The last thing he wanted was an
interrogation right now, let alone sympathy from his oldest nemesis.
"Put the drink on my tab." He turned away and headed for the door,
leaving Quark shaking his head in wonder.

(to be continued in Part 4)


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