Work Text:
“What the hell are you doing here?” Kira shouted past the clamor of red alert, proximity alerts, fire alerts, various and sundry all-hell-has-broken-loose alerts, shrieking into the station’s quickly emptying corridors.
Jadzia’s breezy manner was strained as she took the steps into Ops two at a time, but her smile was genuine. “Like I was gonna let a little firefight stop me from saying good-bye to you.”
“You call this a little firefight?” Kira pointed disbelievingly to the Dominion warship the size of a modest moon filling most of the glitching viewscreen, Federation fire bouncing off it like fireflies against granite, “I’d hate to see what you call a big one.”
“Yeah, I’d hate to see it too, but I’m afraid we’re both gonna have front row seats.”
Yet another explosion rocked the station, sparks flying from a damaged console above them. An ominous creak sounded low and deep and Jadzia reacted on instinct, pulling Kira into her arms to shield her as a nearby conduit plate buckled and spat molten metal at their feet.
“Huh.” Kira glanced over Jadzia’s shoulder at the sizzling hole in the deck where she’d been standing. “Good reaction time. Now get out of here before you can’t.” She shoved Dax none too gently towards the turbolift.
“Your gratitude is staggering,” Jadzia sighed, making no noticeable effort to flee the soon-to-be-re-occupied station.
Kira flapped a hand and turned away, tapping controls with a façade of purpose, “If we wasted time with thanks every time we saved each other’s lives, we’d never get any work done.”
“I suppose.” Jadzia ducked her head gracefully, finally taking a few short steps away. “I’ll see you on the other side, then.”
“The other side?” Kira asked, head snapping up.
“Of the war,” Jadzia explained with a smirk, “I don’t have any plans for long-term retirement to that celestial temple of yours. A little vacation maybe…”
“You better not die,” Kira said, pointing fiercely, “Or I’ll…”
“Kill me?”
“Maybe. Seems kind of counter-productive.”
“Well, I promise I’ll come back and give you a chance at it after the Jem-Hadar have gotten theirs.” Dax skipped up the stairs with a wink tossed over her shoulder.
Kira glared after her. “You don’t give them any chances.”
“Aye, aye, Major,” Jadzia saluted smartly as the lift rumbled up towards her.
Kira watched as Jadzia turned, heart pounding, because Jadzia was going to get in the turbolift and leave and there was a serious possibility she wouldn’t return and Prophets help her, Kira took off around the central hub, up the stairs and crashed into Jadzia’s back, throwing her arms around her.
Jadzia laughed and scooted around until they were face to face, and Kira took her opportunity, maybe her last chance. She dragged curious fingertips down the line of spots from Jadzia’s hairline past her cheekbones to cup her jaw and bring their mouths together in a heated, messy, long-overdue kiss.
Jadzia responded in kind with barely a moment’s hesitation. She’d thought about this before, dreamed about it. She knew exactly where she wanted to put her hands, her arms, how she wanted to slide her fingers to the small of Kira’s back, press so tenderly until they were aligned from hip to shoulder, free hand skating up her spine to settle against her neck. Closer, closer—Kira never seemed small, her presence always able to fill up a room, but she felt slim and vulnerable here, cocooned against Jadzia’s chest. But she was warm and fierce, sweat had gathered in the dip of her upper lip and soot blushed along her right cheekbone, and mighty things come in small packages.
Kira pulled back with a gasp at the back of her throat, breathless and thrilled and just a touch frightened. That morphed quickly into a blush of irritation at Jadzia’s calm, gentle expression.
“You don’t seem surprised,” Kira said accusatorily.
“Seven lifetimes,” Dax smiled and let more of those years show in it than she usually did, “not exactly surprised, but that doesn’t make it any less perfect.”
“Perfect?” Kira asked.
“Well, mostly. I mean, I wish you’d done that before everything was on fire.”
Kira scratched the back of her head, sheepish. “Yeah, well, I think best when everything’s on fire.”
“Sisko to Dax,” Jadzia’s comm beeped, “You were supposed to be on the ship ten minutes ago, old man. Don’t make me come down there.”
Jadzia chucked Kira’s chin on the way to tap her badge and replied, “Just a short delay. Don’t take off without me.”
“Don’t tempt me,” Sisko’s voice crackled through the badge before falling silent.
Jadzia’s hands lingered at Kira’s shoulders, so loathe to let go now that she had permission to hold her. “When I get back. You and me, dinner, my quarters.”
Kira nodded firmly, “I’ll bring the springwine.”
Starfleet discipline forced Jadzia to take a reluctant step back, but she couldn’t quite let go of Kira’s hand.
“I might even wear a dress,” Kira said, brisk and serious. “There’s this ridiculous red number I saw in a shop last time I visited the surface. Maybe I’ll go back for it.”
“Be still my heart,” Jadzia squeezed Kira’s fingers, “But you don’t have to do that for me.”
“I told you, it’s a really ridiculous dress. You’re the only person on the station who could stand to see me in it.”
“Nerys—"
“You have to go,” Kira cut her off, hand slipping out of Jadzia’s, “So you can come back.”
Jadzia bit the inside of her cheek before forcing a smile, “I’ll be knocking on your door so soon, you won’t even miss me.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Kira quirked a sad smile in return up at the lift platform. “Please be safe. Keep them all safe.”
“You have my word.” Jadzia dipped her head in a bow. The lift started to move and something stirred behind her ribcage, trying to stay behind. She held two fingers to her lips and pressed a kiss to them, affixing it with years of warm friendship and slow-moving molten desire and loyalty and love that could only be found in war and space and lonely hearts. She held her hand out, a salute to the past and the future.
It was a more somber gesture than she’d intended, but it was fitting. Two people who know they might die soon have earned a bit of solemnity.
Kira just nodded, and they both pretended not to notice the tears standing in her eyes.
Four months later
Jadzia nearly took an elbow to the face in her rush off the transport and onto the promenade, past dozens of newly returned Federation personnel and the worn but happy smiles of their Bajoran friends and family. She took the corner at an ill-advised sprint and ran directly into Odo with a vaguely gelatinous smack.
“Commander,” Odo said, unfazed as Jadzia took a guilty step back.
“Odo,” Dax offered a mock curtsey and a contrite smile.
“I hope you’re in such a hurry looking for Kira,” Odo said without further ado, “or else I endured months of maudlin pining for nothing.”
“Don’t worry, that’s exactly what I’m doing,” Jadzia clapped a hand to Odo’s shoulder and he rewarded her with one of his more friendly grunts.
“Hrmmph. Last I heard, she was trying to wrestle a Cardassian vole out of the ceiling of the Temple. Apparently, it’s been terrorizing the Vedeks all week.”
Jadzia shot him double finger guns and took off down the promenade at warp eight. “I’ll make sure your suffering wasn’t in vain!” she called over her shoulder.
Odo harrumphed, shook his head, and when he was quite sure no one was looking, smiled.
Jadzia triple-timed it to the Temple, but on second thought, doubled back to the Jumja stand for some necessary supplies. She returned and peered around the entrance to the Temple, taking a cautious step inside and dropping her cargo. She paused by the door to catch her breath but immediately lost it again as she spotted a familiar pair of red-clad legs kicking angrily atop a ladder. The tell-tale scrabbling of rodent’s feet against titanium echoed out of the open hatch that Kira was half-way stuck in, followed by her grumbled swearing, “Don’t you dare, you little shit-for-brains everloving son of a bitch—”
“That’s an unusual prayer,” Jadzia commented.
Kira dropped something metal with a loud clang and froze.
“But I like it,” Dax continued, hands clasped behind her back, looking up at the open hatch thoughtfully, “Seems very useful for a number of situations. In fact, I believe I’ve heard Chief O’Brien invoke a similar blessing when praying for that pesky power converter on deck three to heal thyself.”
“I—” Kira took half a step down and just looked at Jadzia for a long, long heartbeat. She finally blurted out, “I was going to wear a dress.”
“I’m sure you would look beautiful in one.” Jadzia held out a hand and Kira took it, stepping carefully down the ladder. “But nothing could be as dashing as this spot of grease, slightly electrocuted-looking hair, and your unmitigated fury when you were trying to get that vole with a hyper-spanner.”
Kira scoffed, running a hand over said semi-electrocuted hair. “I’d like to see you do better.”
Dax bent and retrieved a small wax-wrapped packet of something sweet-smelling from where she’d dropped it. “Right tool for the right job, my dear.” She hopped up the ladder and left the Jumja concentrate at the entrance to the ventilation hatch. A few seconds later, the Temple’s unwelcome inhabitant caught wind of the bait and skittered excitedly towards it. Jadzia stunned the hairy little bastard as soon as its snuffling nose poked into view, then caught its unconscious body in Kira’s waiting vole-trap. She slammed the door shut and dropped the trap unceremoniously to the ground.
“Now that that’s taken care of…” Jadzia smoothly took Kira’s hand in hers, thumb tracing over her knuckles, “I believe we had a date to be getting on with.”
Kira bit the inside of her cheek, then said abruptly, “I’m not really feeling like dinner.”
“Oh.” Jadzia paused, Kira’s hand slipping from her grasp, “Well, if you don’t—”
“Hush.” Kira laid a finger over Jadzia’s lips. “My quarters, now.”
“Oh,” Jadzia repeated, eyes wide. Her smile stretched into something a little feline, and a lot suggestive. “Is that an order, Major?”
“No…” Kira laced their fingers together and turned away, biting her bottom lip, “Just a suggestion.”
“I’m very open to suggestion.”
“I thought you might be.”
They made to go, but Jadzia pulled Kira to a halt before they left the quiet of the Temple. “You’ve been haunting me,” Jadzia said, because she had to say it or she’d explode, “heart and mind and soul. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” She smiled wryly, “Kinda inconvenient, actually.”
“That’s me, inconvenient all over,” Kira grinned. “And how about I make you a promise: I’ll keep inconveniencing you for a long time, if you promise to do the same for me.”
Jadzia smiled and it almost hurt, it was so real, not like the emaciated parodies of the thing she’d dredged up all those months on the Defiant. “Now that’s a promise I can’t wait to keep.”
Kira pulled Jadzia through the thronging crowd of the promenade, and despite nearly being bowled over by a pair of Andorians and having to detour around a spontaneous celebratory dance that had broken out in front of Quarks’, it felt like they were the only two on the station.