Introductions and Reunions

Parmoooo, 1998

I wrote this before the seventh season premiere. Paramount (who owns most proper nouns in this story, btw), no I have not gotten over Jadzia's death, but I'm facing it...I think I'll sue for emotional damages.


"I know you."
"We have met."
Jadzia Dax & Worf in "Change of Heart"

Ezri Dax surveyed her small group of close friends. They were the ones she had chosen to "host" past Dax hosts during Ezrišs zihantara. Through this Trill ritual she would be able to *really* get to know her past hosts, personalities she would be spending the rest of her life grappling with. God knows she had had enough trouble trying to keep herself seperate from the others so far. "Questions?"

May, a tall dark woman, and Ezrišs sister-in-law raised her hand. She would be "hosting" Jadzia. A fitting choice, many who knew both women thought. May looked a lot like the defiant young woman. However, May was quiet and demure, nothing like the Jadzia Dax everyone on DS9 had known.

"Are we allowed to interact with others besides you during the time we host?" May had never been known for her clarity with words.

Kelran Zed, the Trill Symboisis Official sent to assist with Ezrišs zihantara, nodded.

"You are. You will admittedly have the hardest time in that regard. Jadzia Dax lived and worked on DS9 for six years. And Curzon's temporary host will also have a visitor. Benjamin Sisko has asked about talking to both, and Jadzia's husband, the Klingon, is sure to inquire as well."

***

Benjamin Sisko found Worf in the holosuite. Instead of fighting strange, savage aliens or reenacting a glorious Klingon battle, he found his officer seated at a table in the Vic Fontaine program.

Worf stood up when Sisko entered.

"Can I do something for you, sir?"

"As you were, Worf." Sisko joined him at his table, "I suppose you heard about Ezri Dax's zihantara?"

"I did." Worf took a gulp from the glass he held. "I suppose you are here to convince me to participate."

"Yes."

"I do not wish to speak to Jadzia. There is nothing more to say."

Benjamin studied his officer. Funny, those were the words of a man who was angry with the person in question. He knew the couple sparred, but they loved each other unconditionally, and neither of them would have abandoned that love, even if the other was dead.

"Did you love her?" Worf slammed his glass on the table. "Of *course* I loved Jadzia! With all due respect, *sir,* how *dare* you imply that I did not love my parMachškai!" With a stern stare from his captain, Worf reluctantly took a seat again. "I loved her."

Sisko let out a breath. An enraged Klingon was not good for the nervous system. "Then why do you not wish to see her again?"

"I believe that when a loved one has crossed the river to Sto'Vo'Kor, it is time to let them go. Remember them, but let them rest in peace. Talking to her would go against my belief to let her cross in peace."

"Then why haven't you allowed her to cross?"

Worf's head snapped to attention.

"Why haven't you allowed her to cross the river in peace, Worf?" Benjamin patiently repeated.

I have done everything in my power to allow her to rest." Worf insisted.

Are you sure? Your quarters are still registered to you and her, I know for a fact that her uniforms still hang in your closet, and that her personal items remain laying around your quarters. Worf, it has been over a year since she died. It is time to start letting go. Don't get me wrong, I know how you feel. I have been through what you are going through. I am also feeling the loss of Jadzia. I took her death very hard too. But I've begun to let go. Don't you think you should, too?"

***

Benjamin and May-Jadzia stopped and looked up when the door to May's quarter's beeped.

"Come," May-Jadzia called.

Worf stepped expectantly through the threshold.

"I am sorry. I did not realize you were still here, sir. I will wait outside."

He turned to leave.

The two old, old friends exchanged glances.

"No, it's all right, Commander. We were just wrapping up...besides, I wanted to catch Curzon before he has to be transferred back into the symbiont."

Benjamin stood up and gazed at Jadzia fondly. "Later, Old Man."

Jadzia laughed lightly. It sounded a little forced. He could tell she didn't want this meeting to end, but on the other hand, couldn't wait to talk to Worf.

"I'm not exactly `Old Man' anymore."

"True...Jadzia."

They hugged tightly. Ben stepped back when he remembered Worf was still standing by May's bookcase. "Goodbye."

Unwilling to look at the painfully familiar face anymore, Benjamin Sisko, Starfleet captain of a strategically essential space station and a powerful warship, and Emissary to the Bajoran people, trudged towards the door. Ben stopped when he reached Worf's side.

"Make the most of this, Worf." Ben murmured to his officer and friend. "What I would give to talk to Jennifer again."

Worf nodded, awknowledging his captainšs advice.

"Thank you, sir. I will."

"It's Benjamin." Ben corrected. "Good luck. And..." he adressed his next comment to the couple. "Try not to break any bones."

They all shared a laugh Jadzia's hearty, gleeful laugh peeking through May's deeper chortle, Worf's deep, soft, bass chuckle, and Benjaminšs toothy grin. The doors swished shut before the room quieted.

As soon as Benjamin left the room, May-Jadzia jumped up and wrapped her arms around Worf's neck, her grin still stuck on her face.

"Worf!"

Worf hugged her back, debating whether or not to kiss her. She solved that dilemma by kissing him, deep and full on the lips. He broke the kiss first.

"It is good to see you again."

Jadzia raised an eyebrow at her husband. "It is 'good' to see me? Is that *all* you can say?"

"It is *wonderful.* *Glorious.*" He refused to look at her, instead choosing to hold her tightly and imagine that this was the *real* Jadzia Dax, not some alien body with his wife's conciousness inside.

"That's better," she led him to the big armchair, guiding him into a seating position and sitting on his lap. "So, tell me all about whatšs happened since I've been gone."

"We have all but won the war," he told her.

"I know *that,*" Jadzia admonished. "What's happened with *you?* How is my parMach'kai?"

Worf looked at her, immediately averting his eyes. Her eyes, they were not the same ones that had gazed at him lovingly, that had sparkled with excitement during her many Tongo games. They weren't even blue! Her face, it was not bright, sunny and happy. Her temples were not decorated with the intricate Trill spots, spots that changed texture and color with her emotions, changes that only Worf noticed. No, this body was not hers. So how could he ever imagine that this woman was, in all intents and purposes--for the time being, at least--his wife?

"I miss Jadzia."

Tears formed in May-Jadziašs dark chestnut eyes.

"I'm here, Worf."

"She is not. This is not *my* Jadzia."

"True, this is not the same body that I had last time we were together. But look past the visual differences. It really is me."

He looked down, at her hand resting on his thigh. Their hands were the same at least, long and thin, with nails showing slight nail-biting, and knuckles that betrayed long days at the computer, scanning, computing and writing. He refused to pick up her hand, however, knowing that there was no scar on her palm from the bloodletting ritual he and Jadzia had performed the night of their wedding.

"Perhaps."

"Worf, look at me!" she used those hands, hands that were so much like the real Jadzia's, to not-so-gently force him to look at her. The touch of her *cold!* hands against his cheeks saddened Worf. "We only have eight more hours until I absolutely have to return to Dax. And then we'll never see each other again. Ever. I know, Ezri will still be on DS9, but...*we* wonšt be together. This is as close as you will ever get to your Jadzia Dax ever again. I'm sorry about how harsh that sounds, Worf, but it's true. I will not allow you to mope around any longer. Either you look at me and accept me as I am, right now, or I am going to return to the symbiont. Now."

Worf remained silent. May-Jadzia sighed and stood up. She kissed him gently on his forehead ridges.

"Goodbye, Worf. I love you, remember that."

"Wait!"

Jadzia turned around, smiling happily that he changed his mind. "Yes, Worf?"

He rushed to her, stopping within inches of her. "I just want to say goodbye. I didnšt get much of a chance...last time."

She took his face in her hands, gazing into his eyes for a long time. "All right."

She pulled his face towards her, caressing his lips with her own. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but a gentle, sad kiss. Her lips barely touched his.

Worf was surprised at the feather-lightness of her kiss. His hands remained at his side at first, but instinctively moved to her waist, his fingers just hovering on her hipbones. She stroked his temples with her fingertips, still gripping his face tightly with her smooth palms.

Finally, her hands slid away from his cheeks, down his neck and across his chest. Then, reluctantly, they left him, returning to her own sides. Worf's hands did not break contact with her until she stepped back, stopping the kiss as well.

They stood, staring at each other for a few more moments. Suddenly, she grabbed him in a very exuberant, "Jadzia-like" motion. She hugged him tightly. "

"I love you Worf. I never wanted to say goodbye. And I know that there will never be a way to say it the right way, so why don't you say it now."

Trying not to cry, he hugged her back, feeling the strong muscles traversing her back.

I love you, Jadzia. Par'Machkai. I always will."

"Forever, Worf. Goodbye."

She turned him away at the exact moment she let go, so neither of them had to see the tears in the otheršs eyes.

Worf trudged slowly to the door. Just after the doors swished close, he hit the intercom that tapped into the cabin and whispered into it, "Goodbye."

-- Fin


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