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attempt to rip off. Any potential lawyers can watch for this and sue them on
my behalf :) ;)

                                      Fever
by Catherine Weller

	It was hot, outside his quarters. Odo endeavored to ignore this, as he 
had for the past few days. He had work to do, a station to protect, Major
Kira to avoid. At least this time, his claim of no time to waste was true;
he'd taken one week off on Bajor for a security conferance and security was
still a mess. He shouldn't have left Eddington in charge.
	He found himself staring at Major Kira's door. _What in the name of the
Prophets? I need to get to my *office*._ Odo made it to the nearest turbolift
without loosing himself again, and there to his office. Everything was 
uncomfortably warm. Odo focussed on the task at hand. Paperwork, endless reams
of it, all for Starfleet's convenience; it evaded his understanding. It needed
to be done, so he did it, sorting out various orders and procedures in the
process. Then back to paperwork. This wasn't his idea of proper security, he
needed to be patrolling the station.
	Damn, he was late for the meeting. Odo took up the datapadd of the 
latest updates, unbalancing twice on his way to the turbolift. Another dull
meeting to endure. More Starfleet folderol; as if just reports weren't enough
for them.
	"Constable," said Sisko apon his arrival, "glad you could finally make
it."
	Bad sign, he was *that* late. Odo sat at his seat, gave his report,
checking the notes more than he thought he had to. Nothing stayed in his mind
for long, perhaps due to the stress he was under lately.
	"Odo," Kira whispered, after his report, "what's the matter with you?"
	"I'm fine." He lied. _My second-in-command's an idiot, I'm so in love
with you, Major, that it hurts; but you wouldn't do me the courtesy of 
*noticing* and putting me out of my misery, would you? Security's a mess and
I'm feeling awful. So hot..._
	"You don't look fine."
	"I'm *fine*." He stressed, barely audible under Dax's monologue about
the effects of the wormhole on hull erosion. Why didn't they turn the heat
down?
	"If you're sure..." Kira shrugged, "It's just that you seem a little
stressed."
	"Yes, I'm *sure*. Everything's perfectly *normal*," _Except the heat_
"I'm fine."
	Kira dropped the subject. Turning her attention back to Dax. Bashir
was staring at him.
	"What." Odo whispered. He was tired of this. Tired of everything.
	"Uh." Bashir managed, "I was - just wondering about your coping 
strategies."
	"What?"
	"How you handle stress." The Doctor whispered, "According to your file,
you haven't taken any time off for yourself since you were hired."
	"I don't need time off. I don't get stressed, and I *don't* need your
*concern*."
	Jadzia Dax leaned across the table into their huddle, "I'm sure 
whatever you're talking about is *very* interesting. Maybe it can come up as
an item on the meeting, but in the meantime, could you two shut up for five
consecutive seconds?"
	Odo leaned back in his seat, satisfied that Bashir was not going to
pry, attempting to focus his scattering thought processes on Dax's speech.
Nothing anyone was doing was explaining why the heat was soaring. Perhaps it 
was just him. All he had to do was wait a few more minutes, the meeting would
end and --
	"Constable?" This time, it was Sisko, "Is something wrong?"
	Dax scowled for being interrupted again.
	Something inside him snapped. It was so tangible he could almost feel
it as well as hear it. Suddenly he was standing, facing them all down at once,
anger flowing through him, "Will you all just - leave me alone! I don't have
*time* for *any* of this! Unlike the rest of you, I have *work* to be done, so
just leave me do it, for a *change*!" He stormed out of Ops. Prophets, that was
cathartic enough to relax him a little. But only a little.

	Dax dropped her padd, staring at the turbolift into which Odo had 
disappeared. "What brought that on?"
	Kira, too, was staring, "I don't know. Usually he doesn't *get* that
upset. I'm going to talk to him."
	"After the meeting," Sisko ammended. "Let him cool off a bit."

	Odo collapsed into his seat in his office, ordering the computer to 
reduce the temperature of his office by another twenty degrees. Maybe when all
this cursed paperwork was out of the way...
	His alarm bleeped. Trouble at Quark's Place, involving Klingons.
	He sighed to himself, _I always have to solve *everything*..._ The
Constable marched straight into Quarks, which was as hot as a blast furnace,
where the Klingons were battling. Quark was begging him to do something about it
all. _Let's make this quick._ Odo positioned himself where it was strategically
advantageous, and punched twice. Hard.
	The Klingons fell like dominoes. "Odo to security, I need a cleanup in
Quark's establishment. You know the routine." That was that.
	"Aren't you going to take a statement?" Quark asked, "Inquire what was 
damaged?"
	"I don't have time or your petty scams," Odo stated, wobbling slightly
on his way out. He hoped the Ferengi didn't notice. "You can tell it to the
security teams." The station lurched, or at least it did from his point of
view. Odo ended up clutching at the bar for support.
	"Odo?" Quark risked.
	"Leave me alone, you prying little /Ji'rol/!" Odo snapped, 
straightening again to march back to his office. He didn't need this. He didn't
need any of this.
	His office had warmed again, "Computer, reduce office temperature by
twenty degrees." He sat, feeling unexpectedly heavy and dizzy all at once.
What was wrong with the computer? "I said reduce temperature by twenty 
degrees!"
	>Please re-state command.<
	"Computer, reduce temperature by twenty degrees."
	>Warning, further reduction of temperature will exceed Federation
safety standards.<
	"Override them."
	>Unable to comply. Medical clearance required for environmental safety 
override.<
	There was no way in his lifetime that he'd ask Bashir for anything. 
He'd just have to endure. How many more hours until he could go off shift?
Judging from the exhaustion he felt just being there and filing Starfleet's
damned reports, he might have to beg off early. So hot... So tired...
	"Why's it so *cold* in here?"
	"Major." Odo acknowledged, hardly looking up, "This better not be some
kind of prank, it's hot enough as it is."
	"*Hot*? You call this hot? Now I know something's wrong."
	"You won't be happy until I'm dragged off to some medical facility on
Bajor, will you?"
	"*What*?!" Kira blurted, "Odo - I know the isolationists are calling
for you to be 'isolated', but I'm the one who's been fighting for your rights,
remember? I spoke for your case on the Council."
	Odo sighed. Of course. How could he forget? "I'm - sorry; Major. I -
I've been having a bad week... Make that a bad month." He put the padd down,
he couldn't concentrate enough to read, anyway, "I shouldn't be taking it out
on you."
	"Thanks, Constable," She smiled. Gods, how he loved her smile, he could
focus on that without pain, "You need a break. I've got this nice, harmless
holosuite program - terriffic for relieving stress; how 'bout I take you 
there?"
	"No. I can just imagine what Quark would say. Thank you all the same, 
Major."
	"I mean it, you need to relax. I can smuggle you in without Quark ever
knowing it," she offered, "The program's *really* harmless. Just the quiet
hills of Bajor, no people, just wildlife, sunshine, sky, plants, that sort of 
thing..."
	When was the last time he'd really let himself calm down? He couldn't
remember - not that that was any indication... "I think I might. How long?"
	"Ooh, a couple of hours?"
	Two hours was acceptable, "And how do you plan to smuggle me in?"
	"I'm always carrying around datapadds, these days," Kira said, "Even to 
the holosuites, when I need to relax."

	Being a datapadd was something he'd never tried before. The clarity of 
form was soothing, even though the enforced lightness wasn't. Primarily, Odo
decided, it was the fact that Nerys was carrying him.
	He observed the goings on in Quark's Bar with only a few visual
membranes, more interested, now, in the texture of Nerys' uniform against his
own exterior. Odo wondered if she knew how nice she truly felt.
	As soon as the door had been locked, and he put down, Odo let hiself 
'relax' into humanoid form. Odd that a form so usually tiring was relaxing now.
But then, he was with Nerys, anything could happen.
	Nerys had propped herself up against a picturesque tree, in its shade.
Odo simply lay back in the grass, next to her and sighed.
	"You can't be that relaxed already," Kira jibed.
	"I'm just starting to - relax," Odo breathed, "My way."
	"It looks like you're about to fall asleep, there."
	"Tempting as it sounds, it'd be too intense."
	"Intense?"
	"Looks aren't everything..." Odo let himself feel the grass, how each 
blade of it wanted to spring back to its former stance, "I'm currently tuning
my senses to the feel of the grass."
	"Ah. Of course." He could almost hear Nerys shrug, "Whatever."
	Odo let the silence rule, experimenting with the permeability of his
skin. Letting each leaf penetrate his being was best, Odo decided, prolonging
the unexpected pleasure, while reducing it to subtlety that he could handle.
One of these days, he would experiment by gently encompassing a living being,
carefully, of course, just to see how it felt.

	Kira sighed. Well, it probably wasn't tension. If it was, Odo now held 
the record for relaxing out of it. He was so relaxed it was almost liquid. 
Every now and again a tiny ripple would wash over his exterior. "I never knew
you enjoyed - feeling things," she said, quiet, as if afraid she would disturb 
him.
	Odo seemed eminently undisturbable, "I was always very tactile. I just
learned to curb my curiosity."
	A temptation presented itself, Kira bit her lip, not wanting to ruin
Odo's rare chance to explore. Finally, she couldn't resist, "Did you ever -
explore anyone?"
	"Not the way I wanted to," Odo sighed, "Cardassians are *so* limited 
inside their heads..."
	_I'm not even going to wonder about that one._ She started tearing 
clumps of fake grass from the turf nearest her. Damnit, she needed to find out
if everything was alright with him. She couldn't stand finding that she'd lost
a friend today, not after everything else she'd lost...
	"Something's bothering you." Odo stated.
	"Odo," Kira sighed, "Damnit - you've been so apart lately. More so
than normal... I need to talk to you, but I need to know if --" she couldn't
say it, couldn't hope or wish. Even for a second.
	"Of course I'm still your friend." Odo hadn't changed his pose on the
grass, yet he seemed more beinign, somehow, "If you want to talk to me, you can
talk. I'll listen."
	"Edon - Shakaar..." A sigh, "He's marrying someone else. I'd almost
expected something like that. He did - play his options more than once. It's
just that I - never wanted to be just an option."
	"I know how you feel. By and large, I've been used wherever I went,
in various ways. I'm used to it, now, and I've learned the ways to comply,
and twist my own interests into it." A sigh, "Just once, I'd like a pure,
no-favours-asked relationship with someone. Anyone."
	"Relationships don't work like that. You do favours, get some back. 
After a while it just gets subliminal."
	"Ah. I see." Odo sat up, face to face with her for the first time in
what felt like eons, "But it isn't true. We're almost - not asking favours...
If you want something from me, you just ask. The same goes for me."
	Kira stared. It was so clear, so simple. "So, why were you so
distant, before?"
	"I didn't like Shakaar," he confessed, "And, to be honest, I didn't
like the idea of being without --" he cut off, suddenly ashamed.
	"Without what?" Kira whispered.
	"Without my dearest friend."
	The gulf between them almost opened again, Kira could feel it wanting
to yawn wide. She closed it with a simple touch. "I'm sorry, Odo. I - we 
should've talked. I wish we had..."
	That smile, the first she'd seen since Kira first rediscovered love, 
was worth every moment of her former agony. Their silence together became 
profound again, instead of tense and strained.
	Then Odo almost lost his shape. When he finally regained his usual form
he seemed panicked, hurt. And ill. Very, very ill.
	"Odo? Do you want me to smuggle you back out?"
	"Please." He managed, "Quarters. So tired..."
	Again, she turned her back politely while Odo changed. The padd he 
became was hotter to the touch, this time. Must be the exhaustion he felt.
Kira was more careful, holding the datatpadd/Odo on the way to his quarters,
trying not to crush it/him against her chest like last time. Sometime when he
was feeling better, she'd have to ask him if he'd enjoyed the form, whether
he'd had any new revelations since the Arberzan vulture...
	Kira set him down in his cluttered quarters, near that giant thing
that was all arcs and globes, "Rest," she whispered, "You've been pushing 
yourself all week." Then went back to her work without another thought about it
all. Odo would be fine, nothing ever happened to him.

	Dax had realised that something was changed the second Kira walked into
Ops, with a lot less weight about her. _Damnit, Curzon *did* pick up Odo's
trick of watching how people walk. Maybe next lifetime I'll get him to do it
again and see what else I can learn..._ Aloud, to Kira, "Something good must've
happened - did you finally use one of *my* relaxation programs?"
	"No." Kira smiled, "Odo and I worked it out."
	_Aha?_ "You did? I'd been hoping you would." Jadzia let her speech turn
optimistic, setting out a bait that could mean anything. The last thing she
wanted to do was break her/Curzan's promise to Odo.
	"Yes," Kira grinned, replicating a steaming mug of Perellian Ginger
tea, "he didn't want to miss our friendship. If Shakaar had married me, that 
is."
	_Damnit! So close, as Ben would say, and yet so far. At least it's a
step on the way..._ "That's good," Dax lied, "I hated watching you two slide
apart like that. You two are so close." _Let her wonder about that one for a
time,_ Dax smiled, _I said I wouldn't tell, my dear Odo, nothing was mentioned
about helping her think about it for herself._
	The part of Dax that remembered being Curzan Odo whispered to her, 
_Sly, Jadzia. Very sly. I/we must watch you and your promises..._
	"We talked," Kira was saying, "*really* talked for the first time in
*weeks*. I swear I haven't felt this wonderful since --" a sudden sadness in
her eyes, "Since I was in love with Bareil."
	_Edit that 'with Bareil', dearling,_ Curzan Odo murmured, _You're 
almost there._ "You would make a cute couple," Jadzia blurted, then turned on 
an I'm-just-kidding smile, "Maybe you could discuss that with him."
	"*Jadzia*... I've made enough mistakes with men. The last thing I need
to do is repel Odo by making some dumb pass at him."
	"I wouldn't bet a Lita on that," Dax murmured, "He'd at least listen."
	"Then he'd make one of his Observations at me." Kira sighed, "One of
those ones that start with 'you humanoids'. Then we'd somehow turn it into a
joke, if I'm lucky. If not, he'd drift away again."
	Dax shook her head, "Well, *I* can talk to him without fear. Maybe I 
could--"
	"*Dax*. No."
	"You know, you can tell him how you much think of him," Dax suggested,
"It could make his day."
	"I don't know..." Kira threw herself at her work, pressing buttons as
if driving knives into enemies. "I've already made too many mistakes."
	Dax let the matter drop, _Give her time, and she'll see. We hope._

	His entire body hurt. Even in the dark, his visual membranes were 
agony. Even with his room soundproofed, now, his auditory senses *ached*. Odo
could hardly bear to touch anything. Not even his own skin.
	Holding humanoid shape hurt. It hurt worse than any pain he'd 
experienced, and he'd thought he was used to pain. Weight was agony. Form 
burned every fibre of his being.
	No-one heard the Changeling scream when he couldn't hold his shape 
any longer.

	Kira pressed the door pager again. Maybe he was involved in being 
something and let time slip. Maybe he was resting. Hell, even if he were 
resting, he would've answered by now. Didn't he say she was always welcome in
there?
	"Computer, security override, authorisation Kira-1."

	Everything hurt. Even the sound of her voice. Odo barely managed to 
regain his humanoid form, only to fall, disoriented an confused.
	His perspective had turned sideways. His belongings, like him, adhering
to the wall. Where it was chilling cold. Odo huddled slightly, trying not
to touch anything else.
	"Odo?"
	He winced. "...no..."
	Her boots approached. Kira appeared in his line of view. "This doesn't
look good, Odo." She told him, "You're not 'fine', no matter what you say."
	"...so - cold." He managed, "...hurts."
	Her touch was agony. He kept silent with effort. "It's going to be 
fine," she told him, touching her comm badge, "Kira to Bashir."
	Odo groaned. Not Bashir. He hated Bashir. Odo tried to tell Nerys, but
all that issued from his throat was an unintelligable garble of sound. Nothing
made much sense, anymore. His vision fuzzed into fog... _Damn you Quark, 
whatever you've done! Prophets help me, I don't want to die. Nerys?_ Nerys had
gone again. Odo shivered to himself, why did they never understand that *he*
felt lonely, too? He tried to call her back. Nothing. _Nothing for nothing
is only fair, Odo'ital_ scolded someone in the back of his mind, they sounded
Cardassian.
	Bashir was there, touching his face. Odo tried to snarl something 
insulting, then immediately attempted appology. All that resulted was an 
incoherent gurgle. "Shh..." Bashir soothed, trying not to look worried. _That
bad, am I? You're welcome._ "Everything's going to be fine. I hope."
	Hope, he wanted to tell the young doctor, was the last vestige for the
hopeless, but language, just like his vision and awareness, failed him.

	Major Kira Nerys wanted to curse *something*, even if it wasn't out
loud. Instead of cursing Bashir, or Mora, who were doing their best to help,
or the insensate Odo, who was helpless to defend, she cursed her eyes for 
leaking in public. Kira also cursed her hands, for not being gifted enough to
do anything but fire a phaser with deadly accuracy. Then she cursed herself
for getting into everyone's elbows as they tried to save her friend
	"It's late," Mora informed, touching her shoulder as if he were afraid
she would break, "Maybe you should go back to your quarters and try to rest."
	"He called for me," Kira said, "an' he called for m' help... I'm gonna
stay until he's better."
	"We're not making much progress." Bashir yawned, leaning into a chair,
"The elimination process has only told us it *isn't* chemical..." he stifled
another yawn, "We'll need to take it in shifts, soon."
	"Then teach me how to work this thing. I'm not going."
	Mora sighed, "I'm more used to late nights, Dr. Bashir. You go."
	Kira made herself learn at Mora's side. At least it was enough to force
another shift between the three of them. She could monitor, both Odo and the
analysis programs the doctors had set up, and pray.
	She wouldn't move from Odo's side until exhaustion finally closed her
eyes for her.

	Sisko hadn't been able to sleep much, either, but out of all of them
at the meeting this morning, Bashir showed it worse. His skin had gone from
its usual tan to frightening pallor in a matter of days. He found himself with
the illogical fear that the young doctor would fade out completely, leaving 
behind only the dark shadows under his eyes.
	Major Kira was conspicuous by her absence. She now spent her days 
either at Odo's side or insensate in the next room, only eating when reminded,
only sleeping when forced.
	"Some progress," A relatively less haggard Mora informed. His discovery
had encouraged him to celebrate with an entire twelve-hour rest, "We've
isolated the cause at least, a changeling virus." The data appeared on the
central table's screen, "It attacks, and uses, the Changeling's own morphogenic
abilities, resulting in co-ordination loss, fever, chills, and so forth."
	Sisko nodded. He'd heard the symptoms often enough before, "Any cures
yet?"
	"None." Mora sighed, "And no answers from the Gamma Quadrant, either.
Frankly, I can't think of anything more overt than actually invading Dominion
territory with him aboard... Except Odo's in no condition to travel."
	"A probe might work," Dax suggested, "Load it up with all the data
we've been able to obtain, fire it at the Omarian Nebula..."
	"It might just work," whispered Mora, "If you could, Commander?"
	"On it already," Dax grinned, glad of the challenge.

	So hard to tell what was real. Odo faded in and out of consciousness,
not knowing where the border lay. Mora was there, which he was pretty certain
would happen if he was ill, but the Cardassians, he was fairly certain, weren't
real.
	Especially the dead ones.
	The only trouble was that they wouldn't leave him alone. Various 
mutations of nightmares visited, as well as his friends. Odo didn't know which 
to listen to, unless they touched him. His phantom nightmares couldn't touch
him, but instead insisted on reaching *through* him. Typical of them, just
because they weren't real, they just *had* to make nuisances of themselves.
They were cold, making him shudder as if he were freezing, yet every time they
left him alone, he feared he'd boil, it was so hot. _Damned halucinations._
	Major Kira was always there, whether she was real or not. Odd. He never
thought he'd dream her looking so haggard. Maybe the tired Nerys was real, and
the other, more electrifying one was the phantom.
	He just never knew which was there, in reality, so he talked to them
both.
	When he could speak.

	Kira figured she must be getting tired by the time Odo's clotted words
started making sense. He'd been muttering like that on and off for days now.
Hell, some days it was no more than bubbling, or gurgles. Today must be
better than most days. _Nights_ she corrected, _I sleep during the days now._
	An hour into listening, or half-listening, to him, and she wanted to
smash something. How could he have been so damned secretive about it? Kira
suddenly wanted him miraculously healed, just so she could punch him. Or
something.
	Her trouble was she was such a damn fool and so was he. Back in the 
resistance, there was no *time* for mooning over unrequited love. You told 
someone how you felt, then you faced the fire - or surrender. It was, as far 
as Kira reasoned, a better way of doing things than all that 'romance' muck.
	She was still chewing that particular burr when the message came in.
	Kira read it. Then proceeded to swear so loud she woke Bashir *and*
Mora.
	"'A harmless infant's disease'?" Bashir spluttered, "'Of no great 
concern'... oh, come *on*!"
	"That's it," Kira growled, "I'm declaring war on the bastards. Harmless!
Like a mother /Dreja/..."
	"I think it's time for your shift to end," Mora sighed.
	"Not until I fall over, it isn't."
	"Well, we could send again," Bashir yawned, "This disease *hasn't* run
its course in the time-span *they* stated. Maybe I could add some 
case-histories from Earth. The ones about isolated communities and measles..."
	"When you're conscious," Mora chided. "Back to sleep, Doctor. You too,
Major, or I'll be forced to sedate you."
	"I *knew* I should have remembered my knife." Kira muttered, shuffling 
towards her current home. The embrace of her pallet was neutral, uncaring if she 
were comfortable or warm, yet somehow oblivion remained until her next vigil.
	Peaceful, blessed dark and quiet oblivion. Silent and timeless.

	He seemed better when she touched him, so Kira held his hand as she 
spoke. "The Founders said they'd look into it. Whatever that means. At least 
they sent the formula for something that works. A little."
	Odo managed something that sounded like 'mother?'
	After all this time, he still wanted to meet his genetic parents. She 
wanted to weep, "I don't know. They said you could be contageous, and - they're
afraid..." Kira couldn't continue. She remembered an outbreak of plague in a
neighboring district when she was young, and had been taken away from nearly 
touching one frothing victim by her terrified parents. Fear was an element of 
the atmosphere, back then. Breathable, like the tainted air and as infectious 
as the pink foam that issued from the victim's pox-ridden mouth before they 
died. It smelled like death left in the sun to rot since the touch of it was 
corpse-cold. _Prophets! Don't let Odo fall like my worst nightmares! He's my 
only old friend left... please please please..._
	'wish i knew mother,' Odo bubble-sighed. Kira forced a terrible image 
in the back of her mind to die. That particular horrid death wouldn't effect 
him. She'd rather face the Butcher and all his contemporaries before she let 
that happen to him.
	"They abandoned you, remember? They left you alone, in the middle of 
nowhere, to fend for yourself. They *let* you catch this - thing; and now they 
don't want to touch you." Froth-speckled bodies, some of them not dead yet, 
shoved by long poles into the pyre-pit. The shrieks of the dying when the 
burning pitch - _NO! It *won't* happen!_
	'they c'n fix it. they fix ev'rything.'
	Such faith wasn't like him. Kira Nerys winced inside herself even as she 
murmured, "I'm sure they will, Constable. I'm sure they will." _Holy Prophets, 
*please*! I never needed a miracle more than now._
	The miracle, in the light of her memories, was more than predictable. 
Six Jem'Hadar appeared in the middle of the infirmary, weapons drawn.
	"That's right!" Kira snarled, "Solve *all* your problems with *death*! 
It's all you know, isn't it? It's all the double-cursed Founders are *good* 
for!" She had a phaser in her hand, her simplest solution was never so cheap. 
"You won't get it easy."
	The Jem'Hadar took up guard-posts around the room, waking Mora and 
Bashir in the process, herding them into the central area where Kira seethed. 
She vaguely realised that she was muttering about the plague, the fire-choked 
deaths and nightmares for years and years and years. She giggled, "Madness 
catches too..."
	A seventh figure materialized. Neither male nor female, humanoid nor 
machine; it scanned the room with its one, visible eye. The other half of its 
face was buried in circuitry, or the circuits were buried in its face; Kira 
found it hard to tell. The other socked held what looked like a medscanner like
a monacle. "I am the Jakk'chra. Tool of the Founders. Where is the one of them, 
ill?"
	It took Mora half a minute to work out what it meant, and indicated 
Odo's mumbling form, "The treatment they sent us isn't working as well as they 
said." He informed, staring as the Jakk'chra glided over to the biobed.
	A circuit-laden arm plunged into Odo's body.
	"HEY!" Kira attemted to lunge at it, only to discover one of the 
Jem'Hadar had a firm grip on her elbows. She nearly wrenched her shoulders out 
of their sockets trying to get loose.
	Odo fought, or tried to. His arm went liquid as he struggled to push the 
Jakk'chra out of him.
	"Non-infectious." The Jakk'chra intoned, and the room was now crowded by the 
presence of a Founder. Kira wished her phaser hadn't been taken from her. The 
Jakk'chra spoke again, removing its arm from Odo's body, "It *is* Sh'syl. I 
have no record of it ever being this virulent. Sh'syl does not endanger life."
	"The same could be said about the mumps, I'd wager," Bashir said, calm, 
"Or rubella. Or any other among Earth's old childhood syndromes. They all kill 
if the victim has no immunity."
	One of the Jem'Hadar forced Bashir to remain immobile, "Silence!"
	"Let the solid speak," the Founder allowed, waving her hand like royalty, "What
of this 'immunity'."
	Mora groaned. "You've never encountered isolated communities of your 
race?"
	She blinked, "We are one in the Link."
	Bashir, too, sighed. "I think we can assume that this isn't an area of 
congruent history." He gathered his thoughts. _Oh, no._ Kira winced again, 
_He's going to start a lecture._ Bashir ignored her, "In most known societies, 
there have been various groups of individuals seperated from the others by 
various factors..." he explained further, detailing the exchanges of 
interesting virii through the early milennias of Earth, as an example. "Odo has
had no contact with any member of his species until recently," Bashir 
summarised, "Therefore he has also had little contact with your species' 
diseases. He hasn't gone through the sort of extended contact necessary to 
reduce his reaction to any of those diseases. Since you share - everything; in 
your Link, you'd also share anti-viral defences."
	"That is correct," the Jakk'chra intoned, "I found no evidence of those
in his system. The remedy encourages anti-viral agents to operate. Odo has 
none."
	"If I Link with him," the Founder reasoned, "I risk infection."
	"If you don't," Kira insisted, "he could die."
	'mother?' Odo's voice was shakier, 'where's m' mother...'

	It was a moment that burned itself into Bashir's mind. If he lived to
be three hundred years old, he would still remember it, bright and vivid as
yesterday, every time he closed his eyes.
	The Foundress looked torn. Tormented between her fear for Odo, and her
fear of encountering anything dangerous. She seemed to hover forever on the
brink of stretching out her hand. Kira still tried to break free of the 
Jem'Hadar's grip, scowling glares full of venom at the enigmatic Jakk'chra.
	It was Mora who surfaced from a similar awe that held Bashir inert,
and moved to the Foundress' side. "It's all right." He told her, touching a
hand on her shoulder, "You're immune already."
	One foot drifted towards Odo's biobed, and a Changeling hand stretched
towards the patient there. The icy calm that held her face seemed to fill the
room as she placed her hand against Odo's chest, where it disolved.
	Odo gasped, eyes closing in some imitation of rapture.
	The Jakk'chra closed its humanoid eye.
	Then it smiled.

	The ghosts were dying. Odo, consciousness buffered by the embrace of
the Foundress, found his mind clearing for the first time in what felt like 
a century. The disease he'd nearly died of was called Sh'syl, the other mind
whispered. It also told him that if he chose to stay in their Link, he could
finally go home and meet his mother.
	Nerys had spoken to him, too, he remembered. Spoken of news and her
nightmares as well as her dreams. She spoke of Prophets and prophecies, fears
and hopes; and her childhood. The early days before she joined the Resistance.
Watching her mother carve something intricate and wishing her hands were as
capable. Watching several escapees from a neighboring district die, foaming, of
a plague they thought they were safe from. Watching Cardassians kill friends
and family. Decades of fighting.
	Fighting to survive. _It may not be as safe as your Great Link,_ Odo
thought at the Foundress, _But it *is* living. There is more here, with these
'solids' than at 'home'._
	The Foundress' mind sighed. _As you choose, my dear one. Come home
when you learn we told you the truth._
	_Truth is relative. Some solids would say that you're no better than
the ones you once fled from, centuries ago. Are all solids to be 'hunted, beaten
and killed' now?_
	_Enough._ She flinched from that quote, from memories ancient as time.
_I've given you what you need to live, dear one. You may be ill for a while, 
yet, but you will live, at least._
	Seperate again. Alone within himself, and not alone. Odo's eyes turned
to his first, best and oldest friend. "It worked," he whispered, still bubbling
a little. "You can calm down, now... Nerys."
	That was the first time he remembered seeing her cry. Odd. Tears had
never seemed to be part of her ways, somehow. The Jem'Hadar let her go after
the Foundress beamed back to their vessel, so he, too, could vanish from the
infirmary. Odo made himself blink, trying to avoid looking for the phantoms
that had plagued him for weeks.
	Nerys was hugging him, trembling. What had he said to make her do this?
How much did she know? Shaking himself, Odo returned the embrace, making 
soothing noises while Mora and Bashir returned to the respective quarters.
"How much did I tell you?" He asked, voice a low murmur in the unnatural 
stillness and quiet. "When I was - sick..."
	"Everything." Nerys sighed. "You told me all of it. How you fell in
love with me and everything."
	"I'm - sorry it had to hapen this way... I never wanted to disrupt your
happiness."
	"Odo, I could hit you sometimes - if I didn't want to kiss you."
	_Now what in the world--?_ "Major?"
	"Just promise me there'll be no more secrets, please?"
	"No more secrets." Odo drew in a breath, let himself feel her presence,
to savour what he could get. "I love you, Nerys."
	"That's better," she sighed, nuzzling against his torso, "I love you
too, Odo."
	"Ital." Odo corrected, half-grumbling to himself, "Might as well toss
it in the Cardassian's teeth while I'm at this."
	"I like pronouncing it the Bajoran way," She said, cuddling closer,
"Ita'al."
	"But that means--"
	"I know." Nerys had the most beautiful smile in the universe. Odo 
decided that he wanted to see more of it.

THE END
(at last!)