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seikilosTitle: Anywhere in the Galaxy
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff
Rating & Warnings: PG (innuendo, alcohol)
Words: 4485
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
Summary: Kira has never been a fan of holosuites; Dax thinks it's simply a matter of finding the right program. But putting together something fun for both of them is more of a challenge than even Dax is used taking on.
Author's Notes: So it's February. And I had written femslash a month or so ago. Given that it's Femslash February, I figured now might not be a bad time to post it!
This is a partner piece of sorts to "Clearing Skies." I wrote it second, but it takes place first. Go figure. I have at least one other fic related to this that I want to write, but who knows when I'll actually get to it. :D;;
"Kira, guess what."
"What?" Kira asked warily, glancing to the station across from her. Anytime Dax sounded that pleased with herself was time to be on guard.
And today was no exception: "I just got a new holosuite program!"
"Yeah?" Kira took a sip of her raktajino, then gave Dax a look. "How many naked people are in this one?"
"None . . . unless you want them to be."
Most people would blush at least a little at the degree of lasciviousness in Dax's voice. Kira kept updating the docking schedule.
"So what is it this time?"
"Risa—come on, don't be like that," Dax interrupted herself when she caught Kira rolling her eyes. "There's more to Risa than its reputation. It's absolutely beautiful and you wouldn't believe the suns-sets. I can't wait to see what they've done with the place—this program isn't just current, but it's supposed to update itself every time there are major changes back on Risa." She sighed. "I haven't been since I was Curzon. I bet they've really spruced it up."
"If you miss Risa so much, why don't you just take some time off and go?" Kira asked. (Was that a scheduling conflict?)
"I could, but then I'd have to pack and arrange a transport and actually travel there, and I could only stay a week, tops. With this, I can go whenever I want—I just need to pop on a bathing suit and I'm set. Speaking of which. . . ."
Kira didn't need to look up from her screen. She knew exactly which expression Dax had on her face: the one where she tried to look as appealing as possible to drop her target's defences. And given it was Dax, she could look very appealing indeed.
Rather than give her an easy out, Kira stayed silent, leaving Dax to finish her own sentence.
". . . What time are you getting off duty tonight?"
"Seventeen hundred hours. Why?"
"You know why! So what do you think?"
Kira made the mistake of looking over, to find Dax's big blue eyes fixed right on her. Damn.
"Only if you can guarantee there won't be any holograms hitting on me."
Dax smiled, clearly aware she'd won. "Promise. I'll make sure every single one of their advances is reserved for me."
Kira sighed. "All right, then. I'll give it a try."
"Great!" Dax beamed. "I'll meet you there at nineteen hundred hours. Bring your swimsuit."
"Why? So I can swim in the photons?"
"Kira. . . ."
She held up her hands. "All right, fine. A swimsuit it is."
She was going to regret this, she already knew. The things she let Dax talk her into. . . . That look of hers was much too effective.
With a sigh, she got back to work.
*
"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
Kira finished pulling on her dress over top of her swimsuit. She could have called the program up again to get changed properly in a holographic side room, but she wouldn't put it past Quark to spy on her. Of course he knew that she'd wring his neck if she caught him, but that was the thing about Quark: he always acted on the assumption that he was going to get away with whatever sleazy thing he was trying.
"I suppose not. But you can't tell me that getting a massage from a hologram isn't—strange."
"Maybe so, but the results are real," Dax pointed out. Unlike Kira, her sole concession to the fact that they were about to go out onto the promenade was a very light wrap. "Don't you feel more relaxed now?"
"I suppose."
“You don't sound very convincing.”
She grimaced. "I'm sorry, Dax. I tried, like I said I would. But this kind of thing just isn't me."
To her surprise, rather than coaxing or teasing, Dax asked, "So what is you?"
"What do you mean?"
"What's your favourite thing to do in your time off?"
She laughed. "What time off?"
Dax set her hands on her hips. "Come on, I know Benjamin doesn't have you working twenty-six hours a day. What do you do when you're not on duty?"
"I don't know—I pray, I play springball, I practice with my phaser. . . ." She let her voice trail off and shrugged when it looked as though Dax was expecting more.
"That's it?"
"That's it." Kira jerked her dress into place. "Free time isn't exactly something I'm used to having."
Dax's expression went quiet. Kira refused to look away.
Then: "All right."
"All right what?"
"I think I have an idea for what we can do during our next session. Something that's a little more you."
She immediately shook her head. "Dax, you don't have to do that."
"Yes I do," she countered. "This is about both of us having fun together. Not me—us. And if you're not enjoying yourself, there's a real problem."
Once Dax got like this, it was easier to just go along and get things over with. Sometimes she could be amazingly stubborn for someone so calm. "All right, fine. We'll try something else next time."
Dax grinned at her. "Okay then! So when's your next day off?"
They compared notes as they left the holosuite to find their schedules next coincided two days later. Dax decided to make the reservation right away (in case Dr. Bashir stole their spot), and so they made a detour to the bar to speak with Quark. The little beast didn't make eye contact as Dax set things up—until he decided to check Kira out and discovered she was smiling . . . with teeth.
After that, he was as good as latinum, and his obvious fear gave her a lovely warm glow that lasted all the way back to her quarters.
*
When facing down an enraged Klingon, most people felt some sort of rush, of either fear or anticipation. At the moment, Kira wasn't one of them. It was hard to get excited about a hologram, particularly when the safeties were on.
Kira ducked around a swing of a bat'leth and attempted to counter with her own. She managed a ringing blow against the "enemy's" weapon, which wasn't exactly what she had been aiming for.
"I still don't get how you can fight with—ugh, these." She blocked the next blow, gritting her teeth.
"They're a lot of fun once you get" —Dax grunted and gutted her own opponent— "used to them!"
"They're not exactly subtle." She made another attempt to take out the holographic Klingon, which was exactly as successful as her last two.
"True. But they're definitely effective!" Another hologram disappeared, dispatched by Dax's bat'leth.
Kira blew out a breath and tried one last time to finish off her target. All right, this was ridiculous.
She threw her bat'leth at the hologram, then side-stepped out of range as it deflected the weapon. The hologram grinned; presumably it was programmed to believe she was now defenceless.
"Kira, what are you doing?" Dax demanded, strain in her voice as she attempted to disengage from her current hologram.
"Being subtle," Kira answered before picking up the fight again—her way.
The hologram swung in with a sideways slice, which she again dodged. The recovery time it needed was brief, but she'd learned to do a lot in a short time. A quick step in, an elbow jammed into the solar plexus, and a blow to the back of the neck when the hologram folded in on itself was all she needed to finally finish what had been an overly drawn-out fight.
"Hey, nice one," Dax said admiringly between slicing through another hologram's armour.
"Thanks."
The hologram on the ground vanished and was replaced by a fresh one. Kira sighed and started looking for weak points.
Several Klingons later, the program came to an end. Dax set the edge of her bat'leth into the ground, pulled out a handkerchief from inside her tunic, and wiped her face with it.
"Phew! I haven't fought that many Klingons in a row in years! Wasn't that fun?"
"It was a really good workout," she replied. Hopefully Dax wouldn't catch on to her sort-of answer.
Who was she kidding?
"But it wasn't fun."
"I didn't say that!" she protested.
"You didn't say it was, either."
She sighed and gave up. "I'm sorry, Dax—I'm just not the sort of person who goes out and has fun." She spread her hands. "I'm not like you. You have fun everywhere, and I. . . ."
Don't know how, she didn't finish. Chalk it up as one more thing the Cardassians had taken from her, and from every other child who had grown up under the Occupation.
Dax set down her bat'leth and closed the distance between them. Keeping her hands visible at all times, she reached out to give Kira's upper arms a squeeze. Kira's breath caught.
"Don't worry about it. We'll figure out something eventually. It might take a little time, that's all." Dax gave her a full smile. "And if there's one thing a Trill has, it's time."
In spite of herself, Kira smiled back. When it came to Dax, there wasn't any other option. "Good thing. Because I get the feeling we're going to be using up a lot of yours."
Dax gave her arms one more squeeze and let go. "That's fine by me. I can't think of any better use of my free time than this." She went to retrieve her weapon. "Now we'd better get moving or Quark will be up here demanding more latinum."
"I'm on my way."
*
The next couple of weeks were fairly quiet—as quiet as anything ever was on DS9, at any rate. It seemed she had temporarily exhausted Dax's store of holosuite programs, which she didn't exactly find heartbreaking.
Instead, when they next spent some off-duty time together, it was for a few games of springball. Their sessions weren't exactly a challenge: Dax was very much a novice. Normally, she'd be fighting off a touch of frustration at how easily she was scoring points, but Dax didn't seem to mind, and so she didn't either. Not a lot, anyway.
It was . . . nice, though. She might even be able to call it fun. Maybe that would be enough to satisfy Dax and show her that she wasn't—miserable or overworked or whatever it was that Dax thought. Of course, it might get a bit much if springball was the only thing they did, but they could deal with that when it came up.
That seemed like a good plan to her, but apparently Dax didn't agree, because one afternoon as they took the turbolift down from ops, Dax turned to her with a barely suppressed grin and asked, "Kira, do you have any plans right now?"
"Well, I was going to have a shower and get a start on this quarter's performance reviews—why?" she asked, even though she really didn't need to.
Dax's grin came into full bloom. "I finally got the program I sent away for weeks ago. Want to try it with me?"
"What is it?"
"You'll see." She turned an unfairly hopeful look on her. "So what do you think? Are you up for it?"
With anyone else, the answer would have been an immediate "no." She wouldn't have needed to so much as think about it.
She wasn't going to enjoy herself. She knew she wasn't going to enjoy herself. And the performance reviews were a long and tedious job she needed to start very, very soon—otherwise, she'd be up with them at least two nights in a row before she was due to meet with Commander Sisko.
But . . . turning down the invitation would disappoint Dax. And that, she was coming to learn, was not something she could easily do.
"All right. Let's do . . . whatever this is going to be."
"Perfect! I'll go sign up for some time and meet you at Quark's. Wear something kind of nice but comfortable."
The turbolift had been stopped at Kira's level in the habitat ring for some time. Now that they had finished their plans, Kira stepped out. Her hands felt—strange, somehow, dangling at her sides; she set them on her hips.
"Well . . . see you there."
"See you soon."
The turbolift doors slid shut and Dax was quickly carried away. Kira set off down the hall with long, quick strides. As she went, she wondered: just what had she gotten herself into this time?
*
When she arrived at Quark's and caught sight of Dax sitting at the bar, Kira actually stopped in place. Unexpectedly, her friend was wearing a dress that was much more conservative than her usual. Its neckline wasn't low, its hem reached just past her knees, and the sleeves were cut no higher than her forearms. Even the colour was subdued—a dusty, deep purple, not one of the rich colours Dax favoured. Considering Kira had guessed they would be going to some sort of . . . slightly upscale dance club, her outfit was a surprise, to say the least.
Still, in spite of the strangeness, as she took the seat next to Dax, she complimented, "You look nice. I'm not underdressed, am I?"
Dax's gaze flicked over her earth-toned layers, first quickly, then in a measuring way that made her heart trip. "Not at all. You look perfect. Ready to go?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"Okay, hold on."
Dax swallowed down the rest of her drink, her head tilted back. Kira's gaze first traced the elegant length of her neck, then fell to where her spots slipped beneath her dress. An image blinked into her mind, of the continuation of those intricate markings, down, down her body. It blinked out just as suddenly, leaving her heated in its wake.
"Let's go."
". . . Right." That had been—later. She'd think about it later.
She followed Dax upstairs to the holosuites. Dax keyed in the passcode, then said, "Computer, run Program Dax-Four-Five-Nine."
Kira's eyebrows rose. "Tell me you don't actually have four hundred and fifty-nine of these things."
"I might.” Dax raised her eyebrows, smiling away. “Remember, I've had a long time to collect them. You wouldn't believe some of the vintage programs I've got stored away."
"I probably wouldn't," Kira said dryly.
Dax laughed, then gestured at the door. "After you."
"Why? Is there some sort of surprise for whoever goes first?" she asked, not moving. She doubted it—within their first month of working together, Dax had learned what happened when Kira was surprised—but she always, always checked.
"Not really. You'll see."
That was reassuring. She took one last look at Dax before . . . not exactly edging toward the holosuite entrance, but not striding right in, either. At her approach, the doors slid open to reveal—
A garden.
And not just any garden, either. This was a traditional monastery garden, in perfect condition. There wasn't a single sign of damage from the Occupation. Every plant flourished, the walkways were crisply laid out, and the only sounds were the sleepy chirps of birds and the whisper of a hidden brook.
"It's the Janitza Valley Monastery—I had the program custom made."
Dax came to stand next to her; when Kira looked over, it was to find she was being watched closely, even . . . anxiously?
Since when did Dax get anxious about anything?
"You did say that prayer is one of the things you like to do in your time off, so I thought—what better place to pray than a monastery?"
Kira stared at her. Suddenly, the strangely sober outfit made sense. "You got this program so you could pray with me?"
"Mmhmm . . . well, sort of. I thought you could pray and I could explore the gardens." She shrugged a little. "A couple of my hosts have been religious, but not any of the recent ones. I'm out of practice."
Kira's gaze left Dax's to once more take in what was supposed to be Janitza Valley Monastery, called one of the most beautiful in the world. Then she looked back up at her friend.
"I'm sorry," she said, wishing for once she weren't so damned honest, "but I can't pray here."
The disappointment that Dax couldn't hide made her regret that much stronger. "Why not? I thought the Prophets were supposed to be able to hear you anywhere."
"They can, of course they can, but. . . ." Kira walked a few restless steps forward on what wasn't the monastery walkway, turned, and spread her hands. "It's a four-day hike just to get here. You have to climb most of the way up the mountain, and it's a steep path. If you want to pray at Janitza Valley Monastery, you have to be dedicated." She made sure she had Dax's complete focus when she finished, "And that dedication becomes part of your prayer."
Dax was silent—and then Kira could see the moment she understood.
Still, she asked, "What if you're not capable of making the trip?"
"Then you can fly to it in a transport. The Prophets don't ask for what we can't give." She shook her head. "But I can walk the road to Janitza Valley Monastery, and so praying here . . . it wouldn't be right."
"It would be too easy," Dax said thoughtfully. "It wouldn't be a real show of devotion to the Prophets."
"Exactly." She smiled.
But Dax sighed. "Looks like it's back to the drawing board."
Her shoulders had dropped and she looked so—discouraged that Kira had taken two steps forward and reached for Dax's hand quite without thought. She caught herself before she could finish the gesture, but then she wondered: why was she stopping?
She took up her hand. "Dax—Jadzia," she corrected herself and Dax's eyes widened. "You've done a lot of thinking and planning, and I'm . . . touched that you'd go to this much trouble on my behalf. But now" —she smiled again as inspiration struck— "it's my turn. Let me find a program that we can enjoy together. All right?"
Dax did nothing but look down at her for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then she felt a cool hand curl around hers. "All right. I'm looking forward to seeing what you come up with."
"So am I," she admitted, which earned her a laugh and an easing of . . . whatever had been between them.
"Springball?" Dax suggested.
"Sounds good to me. We should probably get changed though."
Dax let go of her hand to smooth down her dress. "What, you don't think I could score some points dressed like this?"
"I'd like to see you try."
"Maybe some other time." Dax looked up. "Computer, end program."
The monastery gardens disappeared, and even if they hadn't been real, she sighed as they evaporated. They had still been beautiful.
Her attention was soon pulled away from the loss of the gardens, however. Once again, she had to wonder just what she had gotten herself into—but this time, it was no one's fault but her own.
*
It was another couple of weeks before they met in the holosuite again. Not only was much of Kira's time taken up by the performance reviews, as well as all her other duties, but . . . coming up with a good holosuite program was hard. It had given Dax trouble and she was one of the most creative people Kira knew. She, on the other hand, wasn't creative in the slightest. She just plain didn't have an imagination. And considering holosuite programs were supposed to be all about imagination, that was a real problem.
But then one evening, as she was finishing a period of meditation, the solution came to her. It was so neat and so simple that she went to her prayer wheel to give thanks on the spot. An answer that perfect could only have been sent by the Prophets.
After that, taking care of the details was simple. In fact, the hardest part turned out to be lining up their schedules.
"I'm due to come off duty at thirteen hundred hours tomorrow. What about you?"
"That's no good—it has to be in the evening."
"Why the evening?"
Kira smiled. "You'll see."
And now she could understand why Dax liked keeping her in the dark so much: the look of frustration on her face was incredibly satisfying.
"Kira, come on," Dax said in what would have been a whine were it anyone else. "Can't you give me at least a little hint?"
"Nope." Now she was practically grinning. "You'll just have to find out on your next free evening."
"Maybe Benjamin can give us tonight off," Dax muttered as she ran a finger down the senior staff's duty roster. Suddenly, she stabbed the screen. "Got it! Four days from now, we've got a three-hour window from twenty hundred hours on."
Kira gripped the handle of her raktajino a little more tightly. "Sounds fine to me."
"All right. In four days I finally get to find out just what secret you've been keeping from me."
"If you're good," she cautioned.
Dax grinned, her expression wickedness itself. Her voice was low as she said, "Oh, I can be very good."
Her hand jumped, nearly sending coffee slopping over the rim of the mug. To cover, she said briskly, "Good, because very good is what you're going to need to be. Anything less than that isn't going to cut it."
Dax would no doubt have answered back, but just then a ship arrived requesting clearance for docking and they both went back to work.
Four days. Waiting that long wasn't going to be easy, but she'd make it—after all, she had all the motivation anyone needed in the form of one Jadzia Dax. She only wished she had a large helping of patience as well.
*
Over the following days, Kira could just tell Dax was being on her best behaviour. Aside from a few leading questions about what to wear and if she should take along anything special, she didn't bring up the program at all—it seemed Kira wasn't the only one motivated.
It was obviously killing her, though. Every so often, Kira would catch Dax watching her or returning her attention to her work. Kira never said anything, but her face heated up every time she felt Dax's eyes on her.
At last, however, their waiting was finished, and not a moment too soon. Kira rushed through preparations in her quarters once she came off duty, nearly jogging across the promenade when she'd finished, but for once, Dax had beaten her to Quark's.
She was seated at the bar, spinning an empty glass by its rim and chatting with Quark, and this time her dress was anything but conservative. It was both short and low cut, with a vibrant pattern of violet swirls, and Dax had further set it off by putting her hair up in a twist and letting ringlets of rich brown hair fall over her shoulders.
It took Kira two tries to get her attention; her dry mouth made speech impossible on her first attempt.
"Dax."
Dax fumbled her glass, then righted it. "Kira! There you are." She paused to take in Kira's long, formal belted dress. "You look nice. I was starting to wonder if I was the one overdressed this time, but apparently not."
"Not at all. You're—just fine," she said and then nearly hit herself. What was she, a teenager with her first crush?
Dax smiled as if she'd heard what Kira meant, not what she had said. "Thanks."
"Hello to you, too, Major," Quark broke in, his tone the height of sarcasm. "Could I offer you a drink?"
She ignored his hurt feelings; he'd get over it. "No thanks. Dax, want to get started?"
"You bet." Dax rose and abandoned her glass on the spot. "See you later, Quark. The tongo match is at twenty-one hundred hours tomorrow, right?"
"That's right. Bring your latinum." He grinned.
Dax grinned right back. "Don't you forget to bring yours."
The pair exchanged one more look, then Dax gave him a wave and they could at last head upstairs.
As she was tapping in her passcode, Kira could practically hear Dax's smile broaden behind her. "This is so exciting. I've been racking my brain trying to figure out what kind of program you'd come up with."
"You have, have you?"
"Of course! It isn't somewhere on Bajor, is it? In Dahkur Province?"
Kira smiled to herself. "You're never going to guess." She raised her voice. "Computer, run program Kira-Zero-One."
The computer gave an affirmative beep, and only then did Kira turn to face Dax.
"Ready?" she asked, her voice level.
"Am I ever. Let's go!"
Kira's smile widened into a grin. "You first."
"This is payback, isn't it?"
But with no further complaints or hesitation, she walked through the holosuite door and Kira followed.
Dax took barely three steps inside before she stopped, just as Kira had expected, because where they were now standing was no more foreign than a room in the habitat ring. It was sparse, with the greatest source of ornamentation being the Bajoran shrine against one wall. The overhead lights were dimmed so that most of the room's illumination came from the candles lit on a table in the middle of the room. A variety of Bajoran dishes lay waiting, and the table was set for two.
Dax spent only a moment taking in the program before she turned to Kira. "These are your quarters, aren't they?"
"They are." Though her heart pounded, she didn't look away from Dax for even a moment. "I spent a long time trying to think of something we could do together—somewhere we could go. Then I asked myself: if I could go anywhere in the galaxy with you, where would it be?"
"And this was your answer?" Dax gestured at the room, her eyes equally fixed on Kira's.
"That's right."
Dax was still for just one moment longer before the most beautiful smile Kira had ever seen turned her face radiant.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I'd say this is one case where reality definitely beats fiction. Why don't we go see about having that dinner? And just maybe," she added, her voice lowering, "we could see about one or two other things as well."
Kira smiled back, and for once in her life, she thought she could dance. "Sounds fine to me. Computer—end program."
She took what wasn't much of a chance at all and held out her hand. Dax immediately folded her fingers through Kira's, and hand in hand they left the holosuite behind.
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff
Rating & Warnings: PG (innuendo, alcohol)
Words: 4485
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
Summary: Kira has never been a fan of holosuites; Dax thinks it's simply a matter of finding the right program. But putting together something fun for both of them is more of a challenge than even Dax is used taking on.
Author's Notes: So it's February. And I had written femslash a month or so ago. Given that it's Femslash February, I figured now might not be a bad time to post it!
This is a partner piece of sorts to "Clearing Skies." I wrote it second, but it takes place first. Go figure. I have at least one other fic related to this that I want to write, but who knows when I'll actually get to it. :D;;
"Kira, guess what."
"What?" Kira asked warily, glancing to the station across from her. Anytime Dax sounded that pleased with herself was time to be on guard.
And today was no exception: "I just got a new holosuite program!"
"Yeah?" Kira took a sip of her raktajino, then gave Dax a look. "How many naked people are in this one?"
"None . . . unless you want them to be."
Most people would blush at least a little at the degree of lasciviousness in Dax's voice. Kira kept updating the docking schedule.
"So what is it this time?"
"Risa—come on, don't be like that," Dax interrupted herself when she caught Kira rolling her eyes. "There's more to Risa than its reputation. It's absolutely beautiful and you wouldn't believe the suns-sets. I can't wait to see what they've done with the place—this program isn't just current, but it's supposed to update itself every time there are major changes back on Risa." She sighed. "I haven't been since I was Curzon. I bet they've really spruced it up."
"If you miss Risa so much, why don't you just take some time off and go?" Kira asked. (Was that a scheduling conflict?)
"I could, but then I'd have to pack and arrange a transport and actually travel there, and I could only stay a week, tops. With this, I can go whenever I want—I just need to pop on a bathing suit and I'm set. Speaking of which. . . ."
Kira didn't need to look up from her screen. She knew exactly which expression Dax had on her face: the one where she tried to look as appealing as possible to drop her target's defences. And given it was Dax, she could look very appealing indeed.
Rather than give her an easy out, Kira stayed silent, leaving Dax to finish her own sentence.
". . . What time are you getting off duty tonight?"
"Seventeen hundred hours. Why?"
"You know why! So what do you think?"
Kira made the mistake of looking over, to find Dax's big blue eyes fixed right on her. Damn.
"Only if you can guarantee there won't be any holograms hitting on me."
Dax smiled, clearly aware she'd won. "Promise. I'll make sure every single one of their advances is reserved for me."
Kira sighed. "All right, then. I'll give it a try."
"Great!" Dax beamed. "I'll meet you there at nineteen hundred hours. Bring your swimsuit."
"Why? So I can swim in the photons?"
"Kira. . . ."
She held up her hands. "All right, fine. A swimsuit it is."
She was going to regret this, she already knew. The things she let Dax talk her into. . . . That look of hers was much too effective.
With a sigh, she got back to work.
"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
Kira finished pulling on her dress over top of her swimsuit. She could have called the program up again to get changed properly in a holographic side room, but she wouldn't put it past Quark to spy on her. Of course he knew that she'd wring his neck if she caught him, but that was the thing about Quark: he always acted on the assumption that he was going to get away with whatever sleazy thing he was trying.
"I suppose not. But you can't tell me that getting a massage from a hologram isn't—strange."
"Maybe so, but the results are real," Dax pointed out. Unlike Kira, her sole concession to the fact that they were about to go out onto the promenade was a very light wrap. "Don't you feel more relaxed now?"
"I suppose."
“You don't sound very convincing.”
She grimaced. "I'm sorry, Dax. I tried, like I said I would. But this kind of thing just isn't me."
To her surprise, rather than coaxing or teasing, Dax asked, "So what is you?"
"What do you mean?"
"What's your favourite thing to do in your time off?"
She laughed. "What time off?"
Dax set her hands on her hips. "Come on, I know Benjamin doesn't have you working twenty-six hours a day. What do you do when you're not on duty?"
"I don't know—I pray, I play springball, I practice with my phaser. . . ." She let her voice trail off and shrugged when it looked as though Dax was expecting more.
"That's it?"
"That's it." Kira jerked her dress into place. "Free time isn't exactly something I'm used to having."
Dax's expression went quiet. Kira refused to look away.
Then: "All right."
"All right what?"
"I think I have an idea for what we can do during our next session. Something that's a little more you."
She immediately shook her head. "Dax, you don't have to do that."
"Yes I do," she countered. "This is about both of us having fun together. Not me—us. And if you're not enjoying yourself, there's a real problem."
Once Dax got like this, it was easier to just go along and get things over with. Sometimes she could be amazingly stubborn for someone so calm. "All right, fine. We'll try something else next time."
Dax grinned at her. "Okay then! So when's your next day off?"
They compared notes as they left the holosuite to find their schedules next coincided two days later. Dax decided to make the reservation right away (in case Dr. Bashir stole their spot), and so they made a detour to the bar to speak with Quark. The little beast didn't make eye contact as Dax set things up—until he decided to check Kira out and discovered she was smiling . . . with teeth.
After that, he was as good as latinum, and his obvious fear gave her a lovely warm glow that lasted all the way back to her quarters.
When facing down an enraged Klingon, most people felt some sort of rush, of either fear or anticipation. At the moment, Kira wasn't one of them. It was hard to get excited about a hologram, particularly when the safeties were on.
Kira ducked around a swing of a bat'leth and attempted to counter with her own. She managed a ringing blow against the "enemy's" weapon, which wasn't exactly what she had been aiming for.
"I still don't get how you can fight with—ugh, these." She blocked the next blow, gritting her teeth.
"They're a lot of fun once you get" —Dax grunted and gutted her own opponent— "used to them!"
"They're not exactly subtle." She made another attempt to take out the holographic Klingon, which was exactly as successful as her last two.
"True. But they're definitely effective!" Another hologram disappeared, dispatched by Dax's bat'leth.
Kira blew out a breath and tried one last time to finish off her target. All right, this was ridiculous.
She threw her bat'leth at the hologram, then side-stepped out of range as it deflected the weapon. The hologram grinned; presumably it was programmed to believe she was now defenceless.
"Kira, what are you doing?" Dax demanded, strain in her voice as she attempted to disengage from her current hologram.
"Being subtle," Kira answered before picking up the fight again—her way.
The hologram swung in with a sideways slice, which she again dodged. The recovery time it needed was brief, but she'd learned to do a lot in a short time. A quick step in, an elbow jammed into the solar plexus, and a blow to the back of the neck when the hologram folded in on itself was all she needed to finally finish what had been an overly drawn-out fight.
"Hey, nice one," Dax said admiringly between slicing through another hologram's armour.
"Thanks."
The hologram on the ground vanished and was replaced by a fresh one. Kira sighed and started looking for weak points.
Several Klingons later, the program came to an end. Dax set the edge of her bat'leth into the ground, pulled out a handkerchief from inside her tunic, and wiped her face with it.
"Phew! I haven't fought that many Klingons in a row in years! Wasn't that fun?"
"It was a really good workout," she replied. Hopefully Dax wouldn't catch on to her sort-of answer.
Who was she kidding?
"But it wasn't fun."
"I didn't say that!" she protested.
"You didn't say it was, either."
She sighed and gave up. "I'm sorry, Dax—I'm just not the sort of person who goes out and has fun." She spread her hands. "I'm not like you. You have fun everywhere, and I. . . ."
Don't know how, she didn't finish. Chalk it up as one more thing the Cardassians had taken from her, and from every other child who had grown up under the Occupation.
Dax set down her bat'leth and closed the distance between them. Keeping her hands visible at all times, she reached out to give Kira's upper arms a squeeze. Kira's breath caught.
"Don't worry about it. We'll figure out something eventually. It might take a little time, that's all." Dax gave her a full smile. "And if there's one thing a Trill has, it's time."
In spite of herself, Kira smiled back. When it came to Dax, there wasn't any other option. "Good thing. Because I get the feeling we're going to be using up a lot of yours."
Dax gave her arms one more squeeze and let go. "That's fine by me. I can't think of any better use of my free time than this." She went to retrieve her weapon. "Now we'd better get moving or Quark will be up here demanding more latinum."
"I'm on my way."
The next couple of weeks were fairly quiet—as quiet as anything ever was on DS9, at any rate. It seemed she had temporarily exhausted Dax's store of holosuite programs, which she didn't exactly find heartbreaking.
Instead, when they next spent some off-duty time together, it was for a few games of springball. Their sessions weren't exactly a challenge: Dax was very much a novice. Normally, she'd be fighting off a touch of frustration at how easily she was scoring points, but Dax didn't seem to mind, and so she didn't either. Not a lot, anyway.
It was . . . nice, though. She might even be able to call it fun. Maybe that would be enough to satisfy Dax and show her that she wasn't—miserable or overworked or whatever it was that Dax thought. Of course, it might get a bit much if springball was the only thing they did, but they could deal with that when it came up.
That seemed like a good plan to her, but apparently Dax didn't agree, because one afternoon as they took the turbolift down from ops, Dax turned to her with a barely suppressed grin and asked, "Kira, do you have any plans right now?"
"Well, I was going to have a shower and get a start on this quarter's performance reviews—why?" she asked, even though she really didn't need to.
Dax's grin came into full bloom. "I finally got the program I sent away for weeks ago. Want to try it with me?"
"What is it?"
"You'll see." She turned an unfairly hopeful look on her. "So what do you think? Are you up for it?"
With anyone else, the answer would have been an immediate "no." She wouldn't have needed to so much as think about it.
She wasn't going to enjoy herself. She knew she wasn't going to enjoy herself. And the performance reviews were a long and tedious job she needed to start very, very soon—otherwise, she'd be up with them at least two nights in a row before she was due to meet with Commander Sisko.
But . . . turning down the invitation would disappoint Dax. And that, she was coming to learn, was not something she could easily do.
"All right. Let's do . . . whatever this is going to be."
"Perfect! I'll go sign up for some time and meet you at Quark's. Wear something kind of nice but comfortable."
The turbolift had been stopped at Kira's level in the habitat ring for some time. Now that they had finished their plans, Kira stepped out. Her hands felt—strange, somehow, dangling at her sides; she set them on her hips.
"Well . . . see you there."
"See you soon."
The turbolift doors slid shut and Dax was quickly carried away. Kira set off down the hall with long, quick strides. As she went, she wondered: just what had she gotten herself into this time?
When she arrived at Quark's and caught sight of Dax sitting at the bar, Kira actually stopped in place. Unexpectedly, her friend was wearing a dress that was much more conservative than her usual. Its neckline wasn't low, its hem reached just past her knees, and the sleeves were cut no higher than her forearms. Even the colour was subdued—a dusty, deep purple, not one of the rich colours Dax favoured. Considering Kira had guessed they would be going to some sort of . . . slightly upscale dance club, her outfit was a surprise, to say the least.
Still, in spite of the strangeness, as she took the seat next to Dax, she complimented, "You look nice. I'm not underdressed, am I?"
Dax's gaze flicked over her earth-toned layers, first quickly, then in a measuring way that made her heart trip. "Not at all. You look perfect. Ready to go?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"Okay, hold on."
Dax swallowed down the rest of her drink, her head tilted back. Kira's gaze first traced the elegant length of her neck, then fell to where her spots slipped beneath her dress. An image blinked into her mind, of the continuation of those intricate markings, down, down her body. It blinked out just as suddenly, leaving her heated in its wake.
"Let's go."
". . . Right." That had been—later. She'd think about it later.
She followed Dax upstairs to the holosuites. Dax keyed in the passcode, then said, "Computer, run Program Dax-Four-Five-Nine."
Kira's eyebrows rose. "Tell me you don't actually have four hundred and fifty-nine of these things."
"I might.” Dax raised her eyebrows, smiling away. “Remember, I've had a long time to collect them. You wouldn't believe some of the vintage programs I've got stored away."
"I probably wouldn't," Kira said dryly.
Dax laughed, then gestured at the door. "After you."
"Why? Is there some sort of surprise for whoever goes first?" she asked, not moving. She doubted it—within their first month of working together, Dax had learned what happened when Kira was surprised—but she always, always checked.
"Not really. You'll see."
That was reassuring. She took one last look at Dax before . . . not exactly edging toward the holosuite entrance, but not striding right in, either. At her approach, the doors slid open to reveal—
A garden.
And not just any garden, either. This was a traditional monastery garden, in perfect condition. There wasn't a single sign of damage from the Occupation. Every plant flourished, the walkways were crisply laid out, and the only sounds were the sleepy chirps of birds and the whisper of a hidden brook.
"It's the Janitza Valley Monastery—I had the program custom made."
Dax came to stand next to her; when Kira looked over, it was to find she was being watched closely, even . . . anxiously?
Since when did Dax get anxious about anything?
"You did say that prayer is one of the things you like to do in your time off, so I thought—what better place to pray than a monastery?"
Kira stared at her. Suddenly, the strangely sober outfit made sense. "You got this program so you could pray with me?"
"Mmhmm . . . well, sort of. I thought you could pray and I could explore the gardens." She shrugged a little. "A couple of my hosts have been religious, but not any of the recent ones. I'm out of practice."
Kira's gaze left Dax's to once more take in what was supposed to be Janitza Valley Monastery, called one of the most beautiful in the world. Then she looked back up at her friend.
"I'm sorry," she said, wishing for once she weren't so damned honest, "but I can't pray here."
The disappointment that Dax couldn't hide made her regret that much stronger. "Why not? I thought the Prophets were supposed to be able to hear you anywhere."
"They can, of course they can, but. . . ." Kira walked a few restless steps forward on what wasn't the monastery walkway, turned, and spread her hands. "It's a four-day hike just to get here. You have to climb most of the way up the mountain, and it's a steep path. If you want to pray at Janitza Valley Monastery, you have to be dedicated." She made sure she had Dax's complete focus when she finished, "And that dedication becomes part of your prayer."
Dax was silent—and then Kira could see the moment she understood.
Still, she asked, "What if you're not capable of making the trip?"
"Then you can fly to it in a transport. The Prophets don't ask for what we can't give." She shook her head. "But I can walk the road to Janitza Valley Monastery, and so praying here . . . it wouldn't be right."
"It would be too easy," Dax said thoughtfully. "It wouldn't be a real show of devotion to the Prophets."
"Exactly." She smiled.
But Dax sighed. "Looks like it's back to the drawing board."
Her shoulders had dropped and she looked so—discouraged that Kira had taken two steps forward and reached for Dax's hand quite without thought. She caught herself before she could finish the gesture, but then she wondered: why was she stopping?
She took up her hand. "Dax—Jadzia," she corrected herself and Dax's eyes widened. "You've done a lot of thinking and planning, and I'm . . . touched that you'd go to this much trouble on my behalf. But now" —she smiled again as inspiration struck— "it's my turn. Let me find a program that we can enjoy together. All right?"
Dax did nothing but look down at her for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then she felt a cool hand curl around hers. "All right. I'm looking forward to seeing what you come up with."
"So am I," she admitted, which earned her a laugh and an easing of . . . whatever had been between them.
"Springball?" Dax suggested.
"Sounds good to me. We should probably get changed though."
Dax let go of her hand to smooth down her dress. "What, you don't think I could score some points dressed like this?"
"I'd like to see you try."
"Maybe some other time." Dax looked up. "Computer, end program."
The monastery gardens disappeared, and even if they hadn't been real, she sighed as they evaporated. They had still been beautiful.
Her attention was soon pulled away from the loss of the gardens, however. Once again, she had to wonder just what she had gotten herself into—but this time, it was no one's fault but her own.
It was another couple of weeks before they met in the holosuite again. Not only was much of Kira's time taken up by the performance reviews, as well as all her other duties, but . . . coming up with a good holosuite program was hard. It had given Dax trouble and she was one of the most creative people Kira knew. She, on the other hand, wasn't creative in the slightest. She just plain didn't have an imagination. And considering holosuite programs were supposed to be all about imagination, that was a real problem.
But then one evening, as she was finishing a period of meditation, the solution came to her. It was so neat and so simple that she went to her prayer wheel to give thanks on the spot. An answer that perfect could only have been sent by the Prophets.
After that, taking care of the details was simple. In fact, the hardest part turned out to be lining up their schedules.
"I'm due to come off duty at thirteen hundred hours tomorrow. What about you?"
"That's no good—it has to be in the evening."
"Why the evening?"
Kira smiled. "You'll see."
And now she could understand why Dax liked keeping her in the dark so much: the look of frustration on her face was incredibly satisfying.
"Kira, come on," Dax said in what would have been a whine were it anyone else. "Can't you give me at least a little hint?"
"Nope." Now she was practically grinning. "You'll just have to find out on your next free evening."
"Maybe Benjamin can give us tonight off," Dax muttered as she ran a finger down the senior staff's duty roster. Suddenly, she stabbed the screen. "Got it! Four days from now, we've got a three-hour window from twenty hundred hours on."
Kira gripped the handle of her raktajino a little more tightly. "Sounds fine to me."
"All right. In four days I finally get to find out just what secret you've been keeping from me."
"If you're good," she cautioned.
Dax grinned, her expression wickedness itself. Her voice was low as she said, "Oh, I can be very good."
Her hand jumped, nearly sending coffee slopping over the rim of the mug. To cover, she said briskly, "Good, because very good is what you're going to need to be. Anything less than that isn't going to cut it."
Dax would no doubt have answered back, but just then a ship arrived requesting clearance for docking and they both went back to work.
Four days. Waiting that long wasn't going to be easy, but she'd make it—after all, she had all the motivation anyone needed in the form of one Jadzia Dax. She only wished she had a large helping of patience as well.
Over the following days, Kira could just tell Dax was being on her best behaviour. Aside from a few leading questions about what to wear and if she should take along anything special, she didn't bring up the program at all—it seemed Kira wasn't the only one motivated.
It was obviously killing her, though. Every so often, Kira would catch Dax watching her or returning her attention to her work. Kira never said anything, but her face heated up every time she felt Dax's eyes on her.
At last, however, their waiting was finished, and not a moment too soon. Kira rushed through preparations in her quarters once she came off duty, nearly jogging across the promenade when she'd finished, but for once, Dax had beaten her to Quark's.
She was seated at the bar, spinning an empty glass by its rim and chatting with Quark, and this time her dress was anything but conservative. It was both short and low cut, with a vibrant pattern of violet swirls, and Dax had further set it off by putting her hair up in a twist and letting ringlets of rich brown hair fall over her shoulders.
It took Kira two tries to get her attention; her dry mouth made speech impossible on her first attempt.
"Dax."
Dax fumbled her glass, then righted it. "Kira! There you are." She paused to take in Kira's long, formal belted dress. "You look nice. I was starting to wonder if I was the one overdressed this time, but apparently not."
"Not at all. You're—just fine," she said and then nearly hit herself. What was she, a teenager with her first crush?
Dax smiled as if she'd heard what Kira meant, not what she had said. "Thanks."
"Hello to you, too, Major," Quark broke in, his tone the height of sarcasm. "Could I offer you a drink?"
She ignored his hurt feelings; he'd get over it. "No thanks. Dax, want to get started?"
"You bet." Dax rose and abandoned her glass on the spot. "See you later, Quark. The tongo match is at twenty-one hundred hours tomorrow, right?"
"That's right. Bring your latinum." He grinned.
Dax grinned right back. "Don't you forget to bring yours."
The pair exchanged one more look, then Dax gave him a wave and they could at last head upstairs.
As she was tapping in her passcode, Kira could practically hear Dax's smile broaden behind her. "This is so exciting. I've been racking my brain trying to figure out what kind of program you'd come up with."
"You have, have you?"
"Of course! It isn't somewhere on Bajor, is it? In Dahkur Province?"
Kira smiled to herself. "You're never going to guess." She raised her voice. "Computer, run program Kira-Zero-One."
The computer gave an affirmative beep, and only then did Kira turn to face Dax.
"Ready?" she asked, her voice level.
"Am I ever. Let's go!"
Kira's smile widened into a grin. "You first."
"This is payback, isn't it?"
But with no further complaints or hesitation, she walked through the holosuite door and Kira followed.
Dax took barely three steps inside before she stopped, just as Kira had expected, because where they were now standing was no more foreign than a room in the habitat ring. It was sparse, with the greatest source of ornamentation being the Bajoran shrine against one wall. The overhead lights were dimmed so that most of the room's illumination came from the candles lit on a table in the middle of the room. A variety of Bajoran dishes lay waiting, and the table was set for two.
Dax spent only a moment taking in the program before she turned to Kira. "These are your quarters, aren't they?"
"They are." Though her heart pounded, she didn't look away from Dax for even a moment. "I spent a long time trying to think of something we could do together—somewhere we could go. Then I asked myself: if I could go anywhere in the galaxy with you, where would it be?"
"And this was your answer?" Dax gestured at the room, her eyes equally fixed on Kira's.
"That's right."
Dax was still for just one moment longer before the most beautiful smile Kira had ever seen turned her face radiant.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I'd say this is one case where reality definitely beats fiction. Why don't we go see about having that dinner? And just maybe," she added, her voice lowering, "we could see about one or two other things as well."
Kira smiled back, and for once in her life, she thought she could dance. "Sounds fine to me. Computer—end program."
She took what wasn't much of a chance at all and held out her hand. Dax immediately folded her fingers through Kira's, and hand in hand they left the holosuite behind.
