THE MIDWIFE

By Lauren Francis

“I’m as big as an Andorian yak!”  Kira grunted as she hauled herself and her huge belly through the narrow airlock.  She paused in the passageway to reposition the knapsack strap on her shoulder and wonder how she always managed to get herself into these messes.  It was just her luck that the seminar she had been attending had run a few days beyond schedule, causing her to miss her transport home.  She had been informed by Deep Space Nine that they would ‘scrape up something.’  Much to her dismay, that ‘something’ turned out to be a certain captured Klingon ship captained by a certain Cardassian renegade.  No doubt this was Sisko and Dax’s idea of a good joke.  She’d get even with them when she got back.

If she got back in one piece.

Spending the next 28 hours on the same ship with Gul Dukat was not something she was looking forward to.  <<Not that you have a choice, Nerys.  It’s either this or wait for a Federation transport.>>  That might be cutting it a little too close, with the baby due in just a few weeks.

She sighed.  Just be pleasant and civilized, and avoid him when at all possible.    There was one positive thing about being so pregnant; maybe Dukat would leave her alone.  Her present state had certainly cooled Shakaar’s ardor; she hadn’t seen him for weeks.

Gul Dukat awaited her in the warm red light on board his Klingon vessel.  Something about his appearance made her pause.  He looked a little older, a little more haggard, and the captured Klingon symbols scattered over his armor gave him an almost roguish air.  She quelled a tiny flutter of pity.

“Welcome, Major!  I am so pleased that we are to have your company on the trip.   What good luck that we happen to be going near the Bajoran system.”  A wide smile creased his features.  “We always have such a pleasant time together, you and I.”

Kira immediately forgot her promise to herself and bristled.  “Let’s get this straight, Dukat. I’m not on this trip for fun.  I’m grateful for the help, but that’s it.  Got it?”  So much for being civilized.

Dukat smiled wanly and rocked back on his heels.  “You must realize that I only have your comfort and best interests at heart.  I’m happy to do this favor for you.  Besides, I feel that I am in your debt for taking such good care of Ziyal.”

Kira eyed him suspiciously, then gave a curt nod of acknowledgement.

“Now, you must be tired from all your duties.  Allow me to escort you to your quarters.”  Dukat relieved her of the knapsack and started down the corridor.

Kira did her best to keep up with his long strides without waddling. She fumed silently.   Damn him!  Stealing a few sideways glances at her host, she warily noticing the small smile playing on his features.  He was being uncharacteristically quiet, which made her nervous.  He noticed her attention.

“I must say, it’s quite a pleasure to have such an appealing passenger on board our humble ship.”  His brow ridges rose suggestively.

Kira flared her nostrils in disgust, yet couldn’t stop the color from rising to her cheeks.  “Dukat, spare me this insight into your fantasy life.  I’m carrying another man’s baby, for Prophet’s sake!  Don’t tell me that interests you!”

“I always find you interesting, Major,” he said simply.

They paused at an unmarked door, which slid open at the touch of a panel.  With a hand under her elbow, he gently propelled her into the room.  “Don’t forget.  Dinner is at 2100 hours.”

When she opened her mouth to protest, he held up a cautioning hand. “You wouldn’t want to insult me by ignoring tradition, would you? Besides, we have so much to catch up on.”

“Do I have a choice?” she muttered, after the door had closed between them.   So much for him leaving her alone.  This was already not going well.

* * * *

Kira settled herself into the chair after returning from her fourth trip to waste-extraction.  Dukat had filled her plate with yet another helping of the Bajoran and Cardassian delicacies covering the table. Blushing slightly, she glanced over at him, then attacked the food with gusto.  Across the small table, Dukat smiled at her indulgently.  As if she cared what he thought!

”This is all Bashir’s fault,” she muttered through a mouthful of spicy hasperat, unconsciously rubbing her belly.

Dukat blinked, confused.  “I understood that it was Chief O’Brien’s child you are carrying.”

“It is.”  She helped herself to a handful of crunchy kori sticks.   “But it was Dr. Bashir’s idea to put the baby in me.”

The Cardassian’s eyes fairly bulged out of their ridges.  “I never knew Bajoro-Human mating practices were so.. interesting.”

Kira glanced up at Dukat’s expression and burst out laughing, nearly choking on her food.

“I fail to see what’s so amusing, Major.”  The only response that greeted his perturbed comment was more hysterical laughter.

When Kira had calmed down enough to be able to draw a breath, she related the incident in which Keiko O’Brien was injured and her unborn baby was transferred into Kira’s womb.

"You should have seen your face!”  Kira wiped the tears from her eyes, and threatened to succumb to another bout of giggling.

“Well, I am relieved for your sake that there is not something more unsavory going on.  You did have me worried, though.”  Dukat looked a little disconcerted.   “I suppose I should be gratified at yet another opportunity for my discomfort to give you joy.  I must say that it was very ungallant of you to let me have the wrong idea about you and the Chief.”

Kira grinned.  “That was your own dirty mind, Dukat.”

He answered her with a chuckle.

They sat across from each other, eating in companionable silence.  Kira searched her mind for something to say.  All the obvious topics had already been discussed: Ziyal’s health and well being, the state of the Cardassian/Klingon conflict, the status of all her co-workers back on the station.

Her attention was drawn to her swollen midsection as the little alien inside gave her a solid kick.  A quiet smile crossed her face.  Dukat had been watching her and raised an eye-ridge, questioning.

“Oh, it’s nothing.  The baby is just moving around in there.  It must be the hasperat,” she replied.  His fascinated gaze zeroed in on her belly, his expression growing wistful.

“Forget it, Dukat.  If you think that I’m going to let you touch me.. ”

The Cardassian looked so disappointed that she had to stifle a laugh.

“Well, okay.  Just for a second.”  The words were out before she could censor them.

He was at her side with undisguised enthusiasm.  “I shall try to control myself,” he promised with mock gravity.

She regretted this already.  Lowering her eyes away from his intense expression, Kira busied herself with positioning the gray hands on her abdomen where they could get into the least trouble.  She found herself noticing how long and expressive his cool fingers were.  Now that she
thought about it, he had never actually touched her before.  This was a very bad idea.

Luckily, the baby obliged her quickly by issuing a battery of sharp kicks.  Sharp Bajoran and deep Cardassian laughter filled the room. Smiling, she glanced up and was caught in his enthralling gaze.  Those clear, blue amused eyes seemed so harmless and friendly, with no trace
of the evil or cruelty she knew to be there.  With his face so close to hers, she could pick up his scent.  She allowed herself to breathe it in; he smelled like burnt sugar.  It was just like the incense that burned at the Temple in Jellana City.   She didn’t remember Cardassians smelling so good, but then again, she had never been this close to one without trying to kill him.  She drew another deep breath, resisting a strong urge to lean over and bury her nose in his hair.  She felt a
little dizzy.

With sudden dismay, Kira realized that she had been staring at Dukat for more than a few moments.  She quickly looked away.  What the hell was she thinking?

“It feels like he’s doing somersaults in there,” she mumbled lamely, trying to break the unsettling effects of his close proximity.  His fingers had not moved, yet she was acutely aware of their gentle pressure on her abdomen.  She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.  Her own traitorous reaction was very disturbing.

Dukat seemed to read her expression.

“Don’t worry, Major.  I won’t bite,” he grinned.  “Not unless you want me to.”

Kira snorted and pushed him away.  “Why do you always have to spoil things, Dukat?”

The Cardassian leaned slightly forward, then appeared to think better of it and with a crooked smile, retreated to his side of the table.  Kira breathed a short sigh of..   relief?  Damn these stupid hormones.  She made a show of casually resuming her meal, hoping the heightened warmth of her face wasn’t apparent in the dim lighting.

Dukat studied her thoughtfully for a few moments, tapping his fingers against his thin lips.
“Major, when are you going to realize that the two of us make an excellent pair?”

Kira choked on a regova egg. “What the hell are you taking about?”

“We are two of a kind, you and I.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He leaned forward, staring at her intently.  “As much as I enjoy playing these little games, I feel that we know each other well enough to be honest.”

“You don’t know me at all.”

“I know you better than you know yourself and I think you enjoy our little arguments. I‘ve made my interest in you quite clear.  Perhaps, deep down under your prickly exterior, you think that I’m.. interesting too.”

Kira sputtered.  “Of all the arrogant.. ”

“Deny it if you can, Major.”

“I don’t want to have anything to do with you!  I can barely stand to be in the same room with you!”  A strange pain rippled through her midsection, setting off an ache in her lower back.  She ignored it.

“Well,” he leaned back, one arm resting casually on the back of his chair.   “At least you feel passionately about me.  I’ll have to be content with that, for the time being.”

“I don’t have to sit here and listen to this!  I’m leaving.”   She made no move to get up.

“Please, Major.  I apologize for making you uncomfortable.  As I’ve said before, sometimes it’s hard to restrain my ‘enthusiasm’.”

A strained silence fell as both parties pretended to return to their meals.  Dukat seemed almost irritated.

“So, Major, is your silly affair with Shakaar over?”

Kira gave an exasperated sigh.  “I don’t see as it’s any of your business, but I’m still very happy with Shakaar.”

“Oh!  I must have been mistaken.  Tell me, Major.  Has he tried to contact you since you came on board?  I would have thought that an attentive partner would be concerned if his.. lover,” he paused at the word, ”were stranded light-years away from home and such a condition. Hmmm?”

“First Minister Shakaar is a very busy man.  He knows that I can take care of myself.”  Kira’s voice didn’t sound as confident as her words.

Dukat crossed his arms over his rigid breastplate.  “Ah.  I suppose that he is distracted by other concerns.”  His tone left no question as to what he really meant.  Other women.  Kira bit her lip and resisted going for the bait.

“Can we talk about something else?”

“As you wish.”  Dukat looked pleased with himself.  Kira fumed.   If he thought that by making Shakaar look bad in her eyes, he would somehow make himself look better, he was sadly mistaken.  Insufferable man.

Kira picked a neutral topic: Ziyal’s studies on Bajor.  Dukat was enthusiastic about his daughter’s progress.  Kira was surprised at how knowledgeable he was about Bajoran subjects: history, geography, culture.  She inwardly shook her head; she would never understand him. One minute he was a predator on the hunt, the next, proudly discussing the accomplishments of a cherished daughter.

“Oww!”  She squinted as another intense pain shot through her body.

The smile faded from Dukat’s lips.  “Are you all right, Major?”

“Pheww!  Just err… the baby kicking again.”  Kira dismissed it casually, and tried to distract him by asking for a detailed account of his most recent encounters with the Klingons.  He complied and she tried to concentrate on his words but her mind began to drift.   Halfway into the lecture, he paused, staring at her whitened knuckles gripping the armrest.

“Major, are you sure you are well?  You look a little pale.”

“I told you that I’m fine.”  Her voice was strained.

Dukat was silent for a moment, then turned her chair around to face him.  “You are not all right.  Kira, are you going into labor?”

“Bajoran women don’t have labor pains,” she scoffed weakly.  “Besides, I’m not due for another three weeks.”

“Kira, this is not a normal Bajoran pregnancy.  Isn’t it possible that the child is coming early?”

“As if it’s any of your business,” she started to mutter.  Dukat just tilted his head and fixed her with his penetrating stare.  He didn’t believe her at all.  She looked away.

“Well, Dr. Bashir said that there might be complications,” she finally admitted both to Dukat and herself. “There weren’t any ‘Bajoran-surrogate-for-Human-baby’ incidents on the record to go by.”

Kira turned back to him and saw her own apprehension reflected in his pale eyes.  So she got angry.  “What makes you such an expert on childbirth all of a sudden?!   Prophets!  Why are you always such an authority on everything?!!”

He was momentarily stunned by her attack.  “Major, may I remind you that I have eight children and as a good Cardassian father, I have participated in every single one of their births.”  He spoke in his most reasonable, didactic, infuriating tone.   “Ziyal was actually born into my hands.  Ah, that was one of the happiest moments of my life.  Poor Naprem had a difficult labor though, probably due to the.. ”

Kira cut him off with a wave of her hand.  “I do not have to sit here and listen to your disgusting domestic tranquility stories,” she snapped.

He looked as though she had struck him.  “You wound me, Major.  I was only trying to help.”

She sighed, her anger deflated.  “I’m sorry, Dukat.“  She rubbed her closed eyelids with her fingertips.  “I’m not feeling like myself.   A night’s rest is all that I need.”

She stood up and headed towards the corridor.  He stopped her in the doorway.

“Please promise that you will call me for help when you need it.”  It was more of a command than a request.

“Goodnight, Dukat."

* * * *

As it turned out, sleeping was out of the question.  Between the recurrent waves of pain and the hard Klingon bed, Kira despaired of getting any rest at all.  When she did drop off for a few minutes, she was haunted by dreams that there was something wrong with the baby, that she was going to give birth to a monster.  To make matters even worse, those damned Cardassians had the ship’s environmental controls turned up to an ungodly temperature. Her thin sleeping shift stuck unpleasantly to her sweaty skin as she frequently shifted positions, trying in vain to get comfortable.

Finally, she got up and checked the chronometer.  It was only 0100 hours.  Her heart sank.  The ship wasn’t scheduled to arrive at DS9 until 1400 hours the next day.

She would never make it.

Kira began pacing the circumference of her small quarters, mentally reciting the Twelfth Prophecy of Romad Jassur, the longest and most boring prophecy she knew.  The distraction worked until the thirty-eighth stanza, when a fresh wave of pain almost brought her to her knees.  They were coming closer; that wasn’t a good sign.

She would never make it.

Kira shook herself.  <<Snap out of it, Nerys!  Women have babies every day.  You’ve certainly endured worse pain that this.>>  She silently cursed herself for not attending Y’Pora’s lectures on Meditations During Childbirth.  She had always been too busy.  <<Stupid fool!  Now look at you!  Alone on a hell-ship surrounded by Cardassians.>>  She thought of her friends back on the station, longing to feel comforted and safe.

Kira caught her distorted reflection in the burnished metal of the bulkhead.  Her eyes were two dark smudges in her pale white face.  Fear trickled through her veins as her courage wavered.

She would never make it.

Her gazed drifted over to the combadge lying on the table.  It glinted dully in the half-light of the room.

No.  She’d be damned if she called him for help.

She pulled herself back onto the hard Klingon bed and curled her arms and legs around her belly.  “Don’t worry, little guy,” she whispered. “I’ll get us through this.”

Closing her eyes, Kira began to pray.

* * * *

She was half-aware that she had let a moan escape her lips. Immediately, the door chime sounded.  Had someone been listening outside her door?  She had an idea of who it might be.

“Go away, Dukat!”

She heard a fist strike the door followed by a sharp Kardasi curse.

“Let me in, Major!”  She could barely hear his command through the sealed door.

“Leave me alone!”

After much scraping, thumping and more cursing, the lock command was overridden and the door slid open.  Kira remained curled on the bed with her back to the entrance, but she could clearly hear Dukat stomp into the room.

“What are you trying to prove?” he growled.

“Don’t you have something better to do than lurk around women’s doorways in the middle of the night?”

He cleared his throat as if trying to gain control of himself.  “I am merely concerned for your safety, Major.”  He moved around the bed.

Kira noted with surprise that he was dressed in a simple dark gray outfit, not in his ubiquitous uniform.  <<Well, of course not Nerys.  He doesn’t sleep in that armor!>>  She would have laughed at that image if she hadn’t felt so awful.

“Can’t you see that I’m busy, Dukat?” she muttered testily.   Groaning, she pulled herself to a sitting position, her legs crossed in front. She arched her body, trying to alleviate some of the pain growing in her lower back.

“You look terrible,” he gaped.  Glaring at him, she could imagine herself from his point of view: sweaty, pale and shaking.  As if she cared what he thought.

He looked hurt.  “Why didn’t you call for me?  Why won’t you let me help you?”  He gently laid a hand on her knee.

Kira slapped his fingers away.  “Don’t touch me!  I will have this baby without you touching me!”

As she awkwardly made for the open doorway, another pain caught her and she had to grab on to the wall for support.

“That’s enough!”  Ignoring her protests, Dukat scooped her up and headed toward the infirmary.

**********

Kira made a half-hearted attempt to struggle, but was too tired to put much effort into it.   She eventually gave up and let her head rest against his padded shoulder, having to be content with merely glaring up at his scaled jawbone.  Without a word, Dukat strode down the hallways and into the empty medical bay.  He unceremoniously deposited her on one of the med-cots.

“You will stay right here and do as I say, or I will throw you into the brig.” He spoke in low tones, as if admonishing a naughty child.  “Is that understood?”

Kira glared back at him.  “Where would I go?”

With his sharp eyes still on her, Dukat activatd his wrist communicator and issued a few short commands.

Kira looked down at her abdomen.  <<What have you gotten me into, little baby?   Can’t you wait just one more day?>>  She leaned back on the cot, trying to stretch out her back.  Nothing made her feel better; sitting and lying were worse than standing.

Dukat had crossed the room and, glancing back at her periodically, began rifling through the odd mix of Klingon, Cardassian and Federation issue medical equipment.  Kira slid off the hard cot with care, vaguely wondering where the medical staff was.  She had never seen a Klingon medical bay before, but judging from the minimal attention to comfort, she guessed that neither Klingon nor Cardassian doctors were much concerned with bedside manners.  The medical bay certainly wasn’t set up for neo-natal care.   Kira suddenly had a vision of the room filled with wailing newborn Klingon and Cardassian babies.  She found herself smirking at that absurd thought just as two soldiers entered the medical bay, their arms overloaded with an odd assortment of blankets.

“Would you prefer the cot or the floor?”  Dukat asked over his shoulder as he ran a hand-held sterilizer over the blankets.

“Where’s the doctor?”

“She was killed during our last engagement with the Klingons.  I told you that at dinner, but I suppose you weren’t listening to me.”

Kira blanched.  “There’s no doctor?” she repeated stupidly.

“I assure you that I am quite competent with a medical tricorder.”
Dukat held up the diagnostic instrument as if to prove his point, then directed the men to deposit their burdens and dismissed them.

Kira was stunned for a moment as the implications sank in.  “Wait!”   She pulled at the arm of one of the retreating soldiers.  “Please stay.” The young Cardassian scrambled out of the room with a terrified expression.

Kira groaned and covered her face with her hands.  “Prophets give me strength!”

“Come now, Major, the situation is not that bad.  Now you can continue torturing both of us, or…” he patted the covered cot where he had formed a makeshift nest,“…we can make you more comfortable.”

She dubiously eyed the pile of blankets, stalling.  “I don’t think your crew will like the idea of a Bajoran giving birth all over their linens.”

“My crew will like what I tell them to like.”

“Spoken like a true tyrant.”  She ignored his suggestion and began to pace around the small room, her hands supporting her aching back.  “If it’s all the same to you, Dukat, I think I’d rather walk around for a while.“

Dukat activated the tricorder and began to follow her around, taking readings.  He shook his head and made clucking noises at his findings.
“Is your lower back hurting?”

“Hey, watch where you point that thing!”

“If you would do me the honor of staying still and answering my question—Is your back hurting?”

“Yes.”  The pain in her back had swelled and grown to almost unbearable proportions.  She was almost surprised that he couldn’t hear her tortured cells crying out.  She shook her head; why was her brain introducing all these ridiculous images?  Was she losing her mind?

“Hmmm,” Dukat consulted the tricorder readings again.  “The baby’s head is pressed against your lower backbone.  It should reposition itself later in the labor, but I imagine that it will be quite painful for a while.  Where are those famous Bajoran prenatal endorphins that I’ve heard about?”

“How should I know?  You’re the one with the tricorder.”

His lips broke into an almost charming smile.  “Shall I give you a backrub while we wait for them?  I guarantee that you’ll feel better.”

Kira snorted.  “No thanks.  Just give me a hypo spray and I’ll be fine.”

Dukat crossed his arms, an amused tone in his voice.  “Major, this is a Klingon military medical bay.  It is not equipped with obstetric drugs and I’m afraid a regular painkiller wouldn’t be good for the baby.”

Kira pushed back the sweaty hair from her forehead and sagged against the med-cot, trying to hide her dismay.  “Just keep your distance, then.  If you want to be useful, can’t you lower the temperature in this hell-hole?”

“As you wish, Major.”

He turned his back to her and began to issue further orders into his wrist communicator, leaving her to resume her weary pacing. The pain in her lower back was becoming excruciating.  She tried to remember if this were worse than being shot in the back with a disrupter.  This certainly seemed worse.

She made it all the way to the far corner of the room just as another contraction hit.   This one was much worse than the last; it seemed to go on for an eternity.   The stabbing, rolling pain shot down her spine and through her lower abdomen.   Her leg bones felt like jelly; they could no longer support her and she sank to her knees.  Biting her lip until it bled, she couldn’t help herself from finally whispering one word.

“Dukat.”

He was at her side as if he had been waiting for any sign that she was willing to accept his help.  The wave of the contraction subsided as Dukat lay his hands firmly on her lower back, searching out a knot of tissue through her thin sleeping shift.  Kira felt her body stiffen, then willed herself to relax.  Aching muscles and tendons quivered under his deft ministrations.  No doubt Dukat had a great deal of experience with female Bajoran bodies.  Well, she had no intention of enjoying any part of it.   His cooling hands moved slowly up her back, and she had to admit that she was feeling a little better.  She let a little sigh escape her lips as his fingers traveled down to the curve of her hips, then slid under her shift to massage her bare flesh.

With a shock of ice in her veins, she remembered to whom those hands belonged.  How had she let the situation come to this?  Her mind rebelled and she pulled away from him.

Dukat seemed to recognize the distrust and fear in her face.

His eyes flashed with wounded anger.  “Do you think I intend to take advantage of this situation?  What kind of an animal do you think I am, Major?”  He shook her shoulders so firmly that it made her gasp.  “For the child’s sake, Nerys.  Let go of your.. dislike for just a moment and trust me.”

She exploded.

“Trust you?  How can I trust you!  You’re like a wolf, always watching me, waiting for any sign of weakness to attack.”  Desperate tears stung her lids and her body shuddered with frustration.  “I’m at your mercy. How do you expect me to react?”

An odd look flickered behind Dukat’s eyes, then he gave a little sigh.

“Don’t cry, Nerys.”  He took her shaking hand and held it to his chest. “I know this is hard for you, but you have to trust me just for a little while.  I swear on the lives of my children that no harm will come to you.”

They stared at each other for a few heartbeats.  She closed her eyes briefly.   <<Prophets, I put my life in your hands.  If this man was sent to help me, so be it.>>   Reopening her eyes, she peered into his face. His earnest expression held no guile or menace.  Unspoken, an understanding passed between them and an uneasy truce was declared. Kira gave a slow, weary nod.

Dukat’s smile betrayed his relief.  “If you’d like, we can pretend that I am, say.. Captain Sisko.”

Kira laughed with a slight edge.  “Now that would be a stretch.”   Dukat as the Emissary; there was a frightening thought.  She nonetheless let him get closer and dab at the cut on her lip.  His fingers slid down to her shoulder as if asking permission to continue.  She turned her back to him and guided his hands to the place where it hurt the most, right where her spine joined her hips.

His voice sounded in her ear.  “I’m going to try a counterpressure technique.  It may cause a little bruising, but it will distract you from the back pain until the baby moves into a more comfortable position.”

“Will it hurt the baby at all?”

When Dukat assured her the infant would be fine, Kira nodded reluctantly then gasped as his knuckles dug into her flesh higher up on her back. The bright pain woke her body from the dull, drowning agony, cutting it down to tolerable levels.

“Where the hell did you learn that?” she gulped when she had regained her breath.

“I told you that I assisted in the births of all my children.  This is a standard pain-control procedure.  Like most Cardassian women, my wife suffered from spectacular labor pains.”

“No wonder .. Cardassians are so .. irritable,” she grunted as Dukat continued pressing small firm circles into her skin.  “You know, I think .. that you are actually .. enjoying this, you .. sadist.”

“I have to admit, the irony of the whole situation is quite amusing.” He seemed to be testing how far he could go in teasing her.  “Hmmm.  I see from your expression that you don’t agree.”

As he worked, Dukat talked on about nothing in particular, his speech answered now and then with a quiet groan from Kira.  He seemed to sense when her twitching muscles had had enough of the intense pressure and softened his touch.  His fingers floated over her skin, sending tingling chills along its surface.  She caught herself enjoying his contact for reasons beyond the simple alleviation of pain.

“Uh.. I feel like walking a little more now.”

With his help, she struggled up from her kneeling position.  He pulled her arm over his shoulder and wrapped his arm firmly around her waist for support.

“Better?”

Kira nodded.  The position was awkward as he was quite a few centimeters taller than she, but the change was welcome.  The next contraction didn’t seem to be as painful as its predecessors.  Dukat’s tricorder confirmed her suspicions that the baby’s head was finally moving away from her lower back.  He began to give her an account of all the various readings on the instrument.

“And your blood pressure is a little high.  It must be all that hasperat you ate at dinner.”

“Dukat, would you put that tricorder away and shut up!”  The words spat out in a torrent.

“As you wish, Major.” He gave her a wry smile then clamped his lips and the tricorder shut.

They paced around the small medical bay for a few minutes without speaking.  To her chagrin, Kira found that the silence was growing tiresome; her own erratic breathing was loud in her ears.  She hadn’t expected him to actually obey her.  Well, this wasn’t what she wanted.

“All right.  You can talk to me.”

Dukat made a sarcastic disapproving noise.

“Please,” she growled.

He grinned.  “What would you like me to talk about?”

“Anything.”

“How about the illustrious history of my military service?”  His broad
smile caused her to waggle a finger in warning.

“*Before* Bajor.”

“Very well.  I had always believed that I was fated for a distinguished military career.  My inquisitors..”  Dukat began to expound on the successes in his early years at military school.  <<My, but he could drone on about nothing!>>  After a few sentences, Kira stopped listening to the words, focusing instead of the sound of his voice.  It rumbled through his chest and she could feel it where her body touched his.  She glanced sideways at him.  Without his armor, he didn’t seem so imposing and inflexible.  In fact, he cut rather a nice figure: not-too-broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips.  Compared to most Cardassians, square and brutish, he was quite elegant.

She could feel the lean muscles of his shoulders and back moving though the quilted cloth of his nightshirt.  Her gaze floated down the sinewy, scaled cords of his neck and settled in the carved hollow at the base of his throat.  The shirt was slightly open at the neckline, and offered a flash of deeply grooved chest scales as he moved.  She found herself wondering what the rest looked like, underneath.

Dukat turned to her and caught her gaze.  A slow, knowing smile spread across his face.  She blinked.  For Prophets’ sake, what the hell was she doing?

She suddenly stumbled, and he tightened his grip on her waist, pulling her closer.   This wouldn’t do at all!  She had to do something to corral her wayward thoughts.

“Tell me about your wife.”

Dukat paused.  “You want to know about my wife?”  His mouth tightened slightly.  Good.  She had caught him off guard.

“I’m just curious.  If you’d rather not..”

“As you wish.”  He cleared his throat. “I met Elena at our engagement celebration. I was nineteen years old.  I remember thinking that she was the most handsome woman I had ever seen.  To be honest, I was a little afraid of her at first.”

“What did she look like?”

“She was tall and regal; she still is..”  Dukat’s face creased into a smile.  “She has the most fascinating *meshavar*.”  His finger ran over the spot on Kira’s forehead where the spoon-shaped ridge would be on a Cardassian woman.  He seemed not to notice her involuntary shiver. “Elena was the perfect wife.”

Kira kept her gaze focused on the floor ahead of them.  “So, let me get this straight, Dukat.  Your wife was one of the most beautiful women that you had ever seen and the perfect wife.  Then why did you need to .. look elsewhere?”

“For companionship, you mean?  My, you are an inquisitive little thing.”

Instinctively, her hand balled up in a fist, but she managed to control herself.   “Well?”

“Because, Major, that’s what marriage is.  Marriage has nothing to dowith love.  Its purpose is to form a stable socio-economic unit for the propagation of children.”  His voice was slipping into didactic tones again.  “It isn’t very logical that one could find an economic, social, and emotional match in just one person.  My wife’s interest in me was purely for what my position and social status could bring to our family.  She didn’t care for me.. in that way.   That wasn’t her responsibility.”

“So what you’re saying is Cardassian husbands and wives aren’t expected to love each other.  Sounds pretty miserable.”

“It is common for one or both partners to take a lover.”

“Like you and Naprem.”  One of a very long list, she suspected.

“Why, Major.”  He was smirking.  “Do I detect a note of jealousy?”

Kira made a rude noise.  “And your wife and Gul.. what was his name? Maret?”

“Yes,” his voice seemed a little tight.

“Then why did she leave you if it’s a customary practice?”

“My wife didn’t leave me because of my..” he seemed to be searching for the word, “..infidelity.  In bringing Ziyal back to Cardassia, I publicly acknowledged that she was as important to me as my Cardassian children.”  He laughed with an edge.  “An unforgivable crime.  As you well know, I have been punished accordingly.”

“How Cardassian.”

“Yes, it is.  You Bajorans take a much more romantic view of the Marriage State.   I have to admit that I agree with you on that point.”

With the last few steps, Kira had been leaning more and more of her weight on his shoulder, until finally her knees gave out on her altogether.  He scrambled to catch her before she fell to the ground.

“Sorry,“ she grunted.  “I guess I’d better sit down now.”

Dukat swung her into his arms and placed her on the med-cot, making sure that she was comfortably propped up on the pile of blankets.

A sudden pain bit into her calf muscle, causing her to wince.  “Leg cramp,” she responded to his questioning look.  “I’ve been getting them the last few weeks.  I don’t suppose..?”

“Not at all, Major.”  He perched on the corner of her med-cot and took up her leg in his hands.  Bracing her bare foot against his chest, he began to work out the knot in her calf muscle.  He was almost as skilled at this sort of thing as Chief O’Brien was.  Miles O’Brien, now he was Kira’s idea of a model husband and father.  He was devoted to his family and would never even think of betraying their trust.  Not like this Cardassian, who probably had hundreds of mistresses during his marriage.  Apparently, Cardassians had a very different view of love and commitment than Bajorans did.  Abruptly, Shakaar popped into her thoughts, and in spite of herself, she wondered who.. er what he was doing right now.

Kira gave an involuntary jump as Dukat’s fingers strayed to the delicate skin behind her knee.  She turned an embarrassed shade of pink and tried to pull her leg away.

“I’m sorry.  Did I hurt you?” he asked, concerned.

“No, it’s just that I’m.. a little sensitive.. right there.”

Dukat’s face creased into a huge grin.  “Why, Major.  You didn’t strike me as the ticklish sort.”  He tightened his hold on her ankle and ran his hand towards her knee.  “Is this the spot right here?”

“Dukat.  I’m warning you.”  Her voice betrayed her by filling with laughter.  She tried to sit up to pry her ankle from his grip, but her huge belly hindered her efforts.

She was saved by a blip from Dukat’s wrist comm.

“Dukat here.”  With a sideways smile, he released her.

While he turned to have a brief conversation through the communicator, Kira tried to regain some composure, pulling down the hem her sleeping shift to cover as much as possible.  <<Get a hold of yourself, Nerys.>>

“That was Dr Bashir.  He wanted to know if we needed any assistance.”

“You bastard!”  Kira sputtered in frustration.  “Why didn’t you let me talk to him!”

Dukat feigned innocence.  “I assured him that we have everything under control. The good doctor informed me that he and his staff will be standing by when we arrive.   Now, why didn’t you tell me that you recently suffered a placental laceration?”

“I.. didn’t think it was important.”

He consulted the tricorder and didn’t seem pleased with what he saw. “The area of damage is weak, but intact.  We’ll have to keep an eye on it.  And I still don’t understand what is inhibiting the production of endorphins.  Your adrenaline levels are low, but..” he shook his head in frustration.  “Have you been taking your makara herbs?”

Kira gaped at him.  “What is it with those wretched herbs?”

“I’m surprised Dr Bashir didn’t prescribe them.  They’re supposed to strengthen the immune and endocrine systems and calm you.”  He tapped a few buttons on the tricorder.  “Obviously you haven’t been taking them.”

“They made me sick.”  Kira mumbled peevishly. “Are you here to help me or lecture me?”

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now.  Another contraction should be starting.  Ready?”

Kira groaned and steeled herself for the next onslaught of pain.  All she wanted to do was to get this baby out and go home.

“Major, you are not fully dilated.  You shouldn’t be pushing yet.  It will just wear you out.”

“I’m.. not.. pushing.”

“Yes you are.  I can tell.”  He shook the diagnostic instrument at her. “Now, are you going to listen to me or not?”

“Who’s having this baby?  You or me?  I swear I’m going to take that damned tricorder and..” she forced out the words through clenched teeth.

“Perhaps if you tried a breathing strategy to control the pushing?” When Kira glared back at him, he shook his head with exasperation.  “I must say that you have not prepared very well for this endeavor, Major.”

“Quit telling me what to do!!”  Kira felt a surge of energy and before she knew it, her fist swung out and cracked against his jaw with a satisfying thud.  She pulled back for another blow, but Dukat caught her wrist and held it in a firm caress.

“I’d gladly let you beat me to a pulp if I thought it would help the situation, but then I‘d be in no condition to assist you, now would I?” He leaned back and rubbed his jaw tenderly.

Kira wrenched her arm from his grasp and turned away as her body flushed hot with mortified fury.  What the hell was she doing?  Not that she hadn’t ever fantasized about hitting Dukat, but this was neither the time nor the place.  Well, she wouldn’t apologize.

Dukat cleared his throat.  A few seconds passed in silence as she struggled through the contraction, made worse by her chagrin over her behavior.  He said nothing,

She took a long, ragged breath.  “Sometimes you’re so.. annoying.”

He smiled.  “I promised that no harm would come to you under my care.  I don’t recall mentioning anything about not annoying you.  No more hitting?”

Kira squinted up at him through the contraction.  “No.. promises.”

“Well, now that we’ve come to somewhat of an agreement on that subject, let’s practice breathing, shall we?”  Dukat showed her how to take short sharp breaths to alleviate the urge to push.  Kira obeyed, breathing meekly until the contraction began to lessen.

“Were you this bossy with your wife?”

“Elena was a very wise woman and accepted my suggestions with grace. Keep breathing.”

“Hmph.  Poor woman.  I feel almost sorry for her.”

“Major, you’re not breathing.”

“The contraction’s over.”

Kira glanced up and saw the blackened bruise swelling on his jaw where she had struck him.   She felt a bitter wash of guilt.  He was only trying to help, in his own infuriating way.

“That looks painful.  Better take care of it.”

Dukat looked at her, a confused tilt to his head.  She reached out and brushed her fingertip on the damaged scales.  He seemed to have forgotten.  Putting his hand over her fingers, he held them to his face for a second, then released her.

* * * *

“What time is it now?”

Dukat checked the chronometer.  “09:00”

“You’re kidding!”  Kira withered.  There had to be something wrong. “This is taking forever.  Is this supposed to take this long?”

“We’re making progress.  The contractions are almost right on top of each other. In fact, I think the time has come to remove the.. undergarment.”  Dukat had his head down as if speaking to the tricorder.

“What?”

“The undergarment.  Should I..  or would you prefer.. ”

When Kira finally realized what he was talking about, she felt uncontrollable laughter start to bubble up through her chest.  She bit her lip, trying to keep it all in, but it was just too much.  Bursting into peals of hysterical laughter, her whole body shook with distressed mirth in addition to the contractions.  Dukat had a horrified expression on his face.

“Major, are you all right?”

Kira feebly shook her head and fluttered her hand.  “I’m.. fine..” she gasped.  “It’s.. just that.. Do ..what ever ..you have to.”  She surrendered to another bout of laughter as the Cardassian did away with the offending article of clothing.

Kira’s laughter had dwindled to mere hiccoughs before she could bring herself to look at him again.  Her face ached from laughing and her cheeks were wet with tears.

Dukat looked decidedly embarrassed.  “I must say that I’ve never had that exact reaction before.”

“You’d better stop it, or you’ll set me off again.”  Kira weakly fought back the rising giggles.  “Here comes another contraction.”

Her momentary mirth faded quickly as wave after wave of contractions began to roll over her, some worse than others.  Was it supposed to take so long?  What if something was wrong?  At some point, Dukat slipped up onto the cot behind her to support her body so she could concentrate on pushing. Her lip was bleeding again and sweat ran into her eyes, stinging.  Dukat told her when to push and when to pause, his deep voice murmuring encouraging phrases all the while.  Kira could hear him periodically check the tricorder, but he would offer no additional information other than she was doing marvelously. She was so exhausted that she had to fight back the urge to wail with despair.  Her weary muscles strained to their limits and her skin stretched till she feared it might split, yet still the baby would not come.

The last few contractions had become erratic, then stopped altogether, leaving in their place a dull incessant ache. She wilted into his arms.

“Come on, Major.  Give me one more push.”  His voice was gentle in her ear.

“I can’t.” Kira turned her face away from him.

Dukat’s voice grew hard.  “Is this the same courageous woman who fought for freedom all her life?  Is this the woman who had boundless energy and reckless passion?  Where is Kira Nerys, scourge of the Cardassians? Feared and admired by all?   Where has she gone?”

She touched his knee in appreciation of what he was trying to do, her voice barely a whisper.  “I’m sorry.  I haven’t.. got anything.. left.”

Dukat gave a ragged sigh.  He intertwined his fingers in hers and gave her hand a little reassuring squeeze.  “We’ll try again when you’ve rested.   All right?”

* * * *

“Nerys.  Can you hear me?”  She registered his words faintly and could feel his hand on her arm.  Her eyelids trembled open.

“I’m cold,” she whispered.

“I’m contacting the station to see if they can help.  I need you to stay awake for just a little while.”

“Why is it so cold?”

“Stay with me, Nerys.”  He moved to tuck one of the blankets around her shivering body.

“Dukat.. promise me that.. you’ll save the baby.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you have no faith in my abilities.” Dukat laughed a bit too loud, then his voice grew serious. “Remember that I promised you everything will be all right.”

She nodded weakly, then noticed the blood on his hands.

Her blood.

Bajoran blood.

Dukat followed her gaze and hastily wiped his stained fingers on a towel.  “There is a little bleeding, so I need you to relax while I get it under control.”

Kira felt her breath grow shallow and gasping.

Blood.  Pain.  Cardassian.

“No!  Stay away from me!”

Blurred memories whirled around her head. Gray scales, red blood, black smoke.   Somewhere, her body found a reserve of frantic strength and she began to struggle.

Get away!  Run away!

Two gray hands gripped her firmly.  “Nerys, it’s me.”

A cry ripped from her lips.  “No!  Cardassian!”  She tried to wrench away from those scaled hands, but was too weak.  The smell of fear was thick in her nostrils.

“Listen to me, Nerys.  It’s Dukat.  You’re safe.”

Dukat?  Safe?

With a shudder, her misty eyes blinked and she could see his face close to hers.  A familiar face awash with concern.

“Dukat!” Kira gasped and threw her arms around his neck.  She trembled in his arms as her mind reeled with half-remembered images.  She couldn’t make her mind think clearly.  Was she going insane?  She could barely register his voice in her ear as the last of her strength trickled away.

Her body refused to respond to her desperate requests.  Surrounded by a swirling murky redness, she struggled to move or speak or see.  Faintly, she began to hear a strained voice fading in and out.  Dukat’s voice.

“ ..not due to arrive for another three hours at maximum warp.  I don’t know.. ”

“ ..understand, Doctor, but the contractions have stopped and she.. “

“ ..only Cardassian adrenaline.  That would be too strong.. ”

“ ..sn’t there something else I can do.. ”

“ ..n’t care about the baby.. ”

“ ..have to save her.. ”

“ ..do what I hav.. ”

“ ..still bleed.. “

“.. .. ”

* * * * *

Deep Space Nine.  Kira ran down the darkened hallways, her eyes darting back and forth. She had lost him.  She couldn’t find him.  Where was the baby?   Pausing against an open doorway, she struggled to catch her breath.  Her surroundings looked strangely shivery and her heartbeat was thick in her ears.  She yelled for help, but no answer came.  The station was deserted.  She lurched around a corner to find herself in the Ops Center.  Where was everyone?  Wasn’t there anyone here to help her?  She cried out again as frantic tears began to course down her cheeks.  As she headed up to the captain’s office, she tripped and sprawled on the steps.

While Kira struggled to regain her feet, she noticed that she was on the entrance steps to the Great Temple in Jellana City.  She whirled about, but the city’s main square lay shrouded in silence.  Not a soul could be seen.  Kira’s voice grew hoarse with yelling, but there was still no
response.  She wracked her brain trying to figure out what to do.  Where could the baby be?

The Prophets!  They would help her!

She struggled to pry open the heavy wooden doors a crack, then stumbled into the main chamber of the Temple.  Her cries echoed off the ancient stone walls.  She moved slowly towards the altar, dazed by the candlelight reflecting in her tears.  The honeyed smoke of incense was strong in her nostrils.

She almost overlooked the figure kneeling at the altar, head bent low.

“Dukat!”  Her body shuddered in relief; everything would be all right now.   Dukat would help her.  She knelt next to him and spoke his name again, but he seemed not to notice that she was there.  His eyes were tightly shut and his lips were whispering something that she could not hear.

She reached over to smooth Dukat’s disheveled hair.  He started, then slowly turned to her, his face lined with concern.  An empty hypo-spray clattered hollowly to the floor tiles.  He caught up her fingers and pressed them to his lips.

“Precious girl,” he murmured under his breath.

Before she knew it, Dukat had taken her face in his hands.  It started out as an innocent kiss of relief on her forehead, but her head instinctively tilted up towards him.   His thin lips brushed hers, then began to caress her mouth with surprising gentleness.  Her lips parted, inviting more.  As she drank in his burnt-sugar scent, her fingers slid over the scales on his neck ridges to intertwine in his thick hair.

She felt Dukat draw a sharp breath, then disentangled himself from her arms.  She made a little disappointed noise.

Kira’s eyes snapped open.  She was back in the Klingon medical bay.  Her eyes had trouble focusing as she scanned the room.  Dukat was standing at the foot of her med-cot fumbling with the tricorder.

“I ..see that you are feeling better,” his voice cracked.

My baby!  A sudden panic shot through her.  “How is the baby?”

He paused for a moment.  “The child shows negligible signs of distress. Your endorphin levels are finally rising and it looks like the contractions are back.  Can you feel them?”

She sucked in a deep breath, realizing that the pain was all but gone, replaced by a strange, exhausted paleness.  “Barely.  They don’t hurt at all.”

Her eyes flickered over a pile of blood soaked sheets on the floor. Dukat followed her gaze and tried to kick them out of her line of sight.

“I’ve repaired the re-opened lacerations.  There’s nothing to worry about.”

“It’s okay, Dukat,” she gave him a wan smile.  “I feel like pushing now.  With your permission?”

Dukat looked relieved at her little joke.  “Push away.  Let’s get this project over with, shall we.”

The two of them worked together.  With Dukat’s guidance, Kira pushed with renewed vigor.

Breathe..

Push..

Her skin and bone and muscle strained with the effort.  Protected by the endorphins, she felt only extreme pressure.

Breathe..

Push..

With a gush of fluid, a new life joined the universe.

Through the haze of tears and sweat, Kira could see Dukat cradling the little thing.   His eyes turned to her, shining, as he handed the squirming creature to her.   A little gray baby with tiny rows of brow-scales, a small spoon-shaped depression on his forehead and a tiny ridged nose wriggled in her arms.  Kira gave a violent start and blinked.  Her vision cleared and she stared down at the pink, smooth-faced human baby.

She began to laugh weakly at her own ridiculousness.  Clutching the infant to her chest, she felt the laughter melt into sobs as all the stress and emotion washed over her.   Kira was barely aware when long arms enveloped her and the baby in a sheltering embrace.  Humiliated at yet another example of her lack of self-control, she made a feeble attempt to break free.

“Close your eyes, Nerys.”

Unable to stop weeping, she tentatively leaned into his solid frame, then hid her face in his neck scales.  In a low whisper he began to chant, his throat resonating against her cheek and his breath cool on her shoulder.  Kira knew enough Kardasi to realize that he was singing a child’s lullaby.  Something in her chest tightened and made her cry all the harder.  The drone of his voice was comforting as he slowly rocked her back and forth.  Cool, reassuring fingers smoothed the hair from her sweaty forehead and Kira felt her tears slowly drain away.  Reluctantly letting him take the baby from her arms, she slipped into an exhausted sleep.

* * * *

Kira awoke with a start, sore and disoriented. She glanced around the empty medical bay, then realized with relief that the infant was in a makeshift cradle on an adjacent med-cot.  He had been cleaned and bundled and was making soft baby sounds as he slept.  She too had been set to rights; an over-sized Cardassian nightshirt of the same style Dukat had been wearing had replaced the sweat soaked bloody shift. Well, she wouldn’t think about that right now.

Turning her attention to the infant, she eyed him cautiously.  <<Don’t do it.  Don’t fall in love with him.>>  The voice inside was fearful. <<He’s not yours to love.>>

As if of their own accord, her fingers scooped the baby out of the cradle and began to loosened the tight Cardassian-style swaddling.

He was beautiful.  So soft and small and helpless.   As she watched, his tiny eyes opened and he yawned.  What an amazing little creature!  <<If you were mine, I’d name you Taban, after my father.>>  The thought filled her with sadness. The little creature seemed to sense her distress and started to whimper, then began to cry.  It was a weak, wrenching sound that made her heart hurt.    What did he want?  She felt a warm dampness soak the front of the borrowed shirt.  Maybe he was hungry?  Hopefully he could take Bajoran milk.   She offered a breast, and after a few awkward moments, the infant got the hint and was noisily sucking away.  Now, this wasn’t so bad.  She relaxed her shoulders and leaned back into the blankets.  Keeping her gaze on the sweet round face, Kira began to hum a lullaby she had heard.. somewhere.

She realized guiltily that through the whole ordeal, she had hardly spared a thought for Shakaar.  His angular face formed in her mind, wearing that look of exasperation he wore when she did something he didn’t like.  He hadn’t been there to help her when she really needed him, and she hadn’t even missed him.  Shakaar’s face faded, replaced by an unwanted Cardassian’s.  Of all the people to be indebted to.  Dukat would probably hold this over her forever.

Her feelings of guilt grew as all the memories started coming back to her: his support, his tenderness, his kiss.  Kiss??  Kira squirmed with discomfort before she remembered that part had only been a dream.  Thank the Prophets!  Try as she might, though, she couldn’t seem to work up the proper feelings of disgust or revulsion.  In fact, she almost felt something like.. regret.  Unconsciously, she buried her face in the folds of the shirt she now wore, and breathed in his scent.   It made her feel safe.  She closed her eyes.

“Motherhood suits you, Major.”

Kira scrambled to cover herself with a stray blanket, realizing the futility of such an action; the man had already seen everything that there was to see.  How long had he been standing there?

“Don’t you ever knock, Dukat?”  Her voice came out sharper than she meant it to.

Dukat’s eyes went flat.  “We are arriving at the station momentarily and the medical crew will be waiting.  I thought you might want to change into something more appropriate.”  Without waiting for a response, he set a bundle on a console and left.

* * * *

Kira paused on her stroll when she spotted Dukat on the opposite side of the upper level promenade.  Slipping into the shadows behind a pillar, she shifted the bundled baby in her arms and felt the color in her face rise.  She had heard that he was back on the station; she suspected that he had been avoiding her.  It had been weeks since she had seen him.  He apparently had left the station once she and the baby were safe in the infirmary.  He had left without saying goodbye.

Peeking out from her hiding place, she tried to calm the curious squirming feeling in her stomach.  This was ridiculous!   This was her station; she had no reason to be hiding from him.  Taking a deep breath, she held the baby a little tighter and stepped out onto the promenade again.

She almost bumped into the Cardassian.

“Ah.. Good evening, Major.”  Dukat looked extremely uncomfortable.

“Dukat.  What are you doing here?”

He pursed his lips, blinking at her rude comment.  “I’ve been spending some time with Ziyal.  I will trouble you no further.”

Kira sighed guiltily.  “I was just taking Kirayoshi for a walk.  Would you care to join us?”

Dukat scanned her face, his expression an odd mix of surprise and satisfaction, then swept his hand forward, indicating for her to lead the way.

They walked for a few minutes, the silence heavy between them.  Kira knew he was waiting for her to say something first.  She squirmed inwardly and braced herself for what she was about to say.  Avoiding eye contact, she forced the words out as quickly as she could.

“I didn’t get a chance before to..  thank you.  I am sure I couldn’t have done it without your help.  And.. ” she took a deep breath, trying not to choke on the words.  ”I am grateful to you for your er.. discretion.  I was at somewhat of a disadvantage and I appreciate your restraint.”

Dukat laughed at her grudging, obviously pre-prepared speech.  “If that’s the best you can do, I accept your dubious gratitude with as much grace as I can muster.”

Kira’s lips clamped in a thin line as she glared back at him.  That intolerable man was not making this easy, curse him!  But when she saw the benevolent amusement dancing in his eyes, she realized the ridiculousness of the situation and cracked a smile in spite of herself.  It just wasn’t satisfying to hate him anymore.

“Dr. Bashir said that you probably saved my life.”  Bashir had told her that, although the use of Cardassian adrenaline had put the baby at risk, she would have most certainly died without it.

“Ironic, isn’t it?  After you’ve threatened to take mine so many times?”

Kira rolled her eyes and let herself smile again.  “Only when you deserved it.”

Dukat was suddenly silent, staring down at his folded hands.  When he did look back up at her, there was a strange intensity in his eyes.

“I assure you that the whole experience was traumatic for me also.  If you had..”   He reached out as if to touch her, then abruptly pulled back.

Kira began to fuss with the baby’s blanket as they continued to walk in uncomfortable silence.

“I suppose it could have been worse.  I could have been stuck on a ship with Quark.”  Kira’s voice grew sharper.  “He wouldn’t have hesitated to take advantage of the situation.”

A mischievous glint returned to his eyes.  “As I recall, there was a point where you tested my resolve.  Luckily for you, I am a man of my word.”

“What!“  Kira’s face drained of color.  They had come to an abrupt stop in front of one of the oblong windows looking out into the black of space.

“I suppose it’s too much for me to hope that the kiss was an expression of your true feelings for me, hmm?”

Holy Prophets!  It wasn’t a dream!  She resisted an impulse to run and hide.  “I.. I.. didn’t know what I was doing.  I was under the influence.”

“Obviously.”  He smiled wryly.  “Don’t worry, Major.  I have no intention of ‘taking advantage’ of the situation.”

Kira stared out the window in mortified silence, wishing she could melt into the deck panels.

Dukat cleared his throat loudly.  “And how is ‘our’ baby?  We weren’t properly introduced the first time we met.”  Dukat craned his neck to get a better view.  “What was his name again? “

Kira blinked, stunned.  That was it?  He was letting her off the hook that easily?  She shuddered with relief.  “His name is Kirayoshi.”  On a sudden impulse, she lifted the baby into his arms. ‘Yoshi’s dark almond eyes blinked up at the Cardassian.

“He is a handsome devil, and I do approve of the name.”  Dukat held him up at eye level, instinctively supporting the infant’s weak neck.  The baby wiggled and his cap fell off, revealing a shock of abundant black hair.  Dukat gave her a sideways smirk. “He’s got my hair.”

Kirayoshi chose that moment to spit up.

“And your high opinion of Cardassians,” Dukat added dryly.  Kira suppressed a laugh and moved to take the offending baby back, but Dukat pulled away.

“I don’t mind.  Here, give me that towel.”  He tucked ‘Yoshi in the crook of one arm and with the other hand sopped up the white liquid from the front of his uniform.  “I’ve dealt with messier bodily functions, and recently, too.”  He grinned evilly at her.

“Hmph!”  Kira tried to be affronted, but couldn’t seem to wipe the embarrassed smile from her face.  “If you keep pushing me, I’ll tell everyone about the ‘sand spine’ incident.”

He threw his head back and laughed, startling the baby.  “As if you haven’t already.  I knew it was too much to hope that you had forgotten about that.”

She had the decency to blush.  They smiled at each other with mutual embarrassment, then Dukat started to chuckle.

“For all your protestations, I don’t think you were as displeased with my role in the birth as Chief O’Brien was.  I was afraid that he was going to have an apoplectic fit.  I didn’t realize that humans could become that shade of purple.”

Kira returned his laughter.  “When we disembarked and he saw you holding the baby.. I thought he was going to attack you right in front of the airlock!  It’s a good thing that Keiko and Dr. Bashir were there to stop him.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called a ‘bloody Cardie’ to my face before.”

“I’m sure O’Brien didn’t mean that.  He was just angry that he missed the whole thing.”  Kira didn’t mention O’Brien’s fury over that gamble Dukat took in using the Cardassian adrenaline.  “He missed his daughter’s birth too.”

Dukat nodded in understanding.  “It’s important for a parent to feel close to a child right from the start.”

Kira’s smile turned bittersweet.  Dukat tilted his head, questioning. She gave a short laugh.

“The O’Briens have been very nice, giving me a standing invitation to come over any time I want.  It’s not like he’s mine or anything, but.. ” She reached out to caress the baby’s soft round cheek and was surprised when her eyes filled with unbidden tears.  She couldn’t tell Dukat that sometimes she wished they were still back on his ship.  For a few hours, she was the only mother Kirayoshi had.

Dukat seemed to understand and covered her fingers with his.  “You’ll have other children, Nerys.”

She looked up at him, confused, but made no move to pull away.  They formed a strange tableau against the window of black space: Bajoran woman, Cardassian man, human baby.

Kira turned back to look out the window, her voice barely above a whisper.  “Thank you for being so.. kind.”

She caught Dukat’s reflection in the window as he stared at her; his expression was almost too painful to behold.  He looked as if he were afraid to move, afraid to break the spell.  She felt ashamed that she had witnessed his unconcealed vulnerability and hastily looked away. Her mind filled with memories of other Cardassians: Amon Maritza and Tekeny Ghemor.  They too had tried to hide behind walls of cold, Cardassian ruthlessness, but she had managed to break the barriers and find the giving, compassionate people inside.  Was this man any different?  Maybe he had changed.   Maybe there was something good in him.  He certainly loved his daughter, and he seemed to genuinely.. care for her.   Maybe it was time to forgive and start over again.

Kira roused herself from her ambivalent reverie to see O’Brien coming out of Quark’s bar on the lower level.  “There’s the Chief now.”  She caught his eye and waved.

Two faint but distinct words could be heard from across the promenade.

“Bloody Cardie!”´

- the end -