"What do you think I should wear?"

Odo started awake at Kira's sudden question, jerking his head up from where it rested on her breast. Kira's arms tightened on him in response, her next words a soothing murmur.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were asleep ... you have to admit, it was a lot easier for me to tell before -- before." Her hands were gentle as she caressed the length of his spine. "How are you, Odo? I mean really."

"It's like Julian said -- I'm a perfectly healthy human male." Odo closed his eyes, moving his head to fit in the curve of Kira's throat.

"Yes, but what does that mean?" Kira asked. "I know what it means to others, but that's not part of who you were. So it doesn't tell me how you are." There was a catch of pain in her voice. "Tell me a little of how it was ... I'll keep having nightmares until you do."

Odo sighed, bringing up his hand to run it absent-mindedly up and down Kira's bare shoulder. "It hurt," he said finally. "It was like I had been missing some part of myself all my life -- then I finally got it back, only to have it ripped away again in little pieces."

"Oh, Prophets ..." Kira breathed the words, a catch in her voice. "I'm so sorry ..."

"The first really good thing to happen to me since it happened was when I walked through the exit from the docking port and found you waiting for me -- and I could smell your hair." Odo paused. He propped himself up on one elbow so he could look at Kira's anxious face as he spoke, smile reassuringly into her troubled eyes. "That, and realizing that I have friends who care about me, no matter what I am. Did you know that Sisko and Bashir sat and waited for me for almost two days? While I was --" Odo had to stop and swallow before he could go on "-- while I was in the Link, being judged."

"Bastards," Kira said bitterly. "Who the hell do they think they are, judging you?"

"Nerys," Odo admonished gently, "they're my people. I accepted their judgment willingly."

"Your people," Kira spat, "are the ones who threw you out in the first place. Threw you out, and then condemned you for defending the people who really care about you -- the people they abandoned you with. That's not justice."

"Perhaps not," Odo conceded, "but then, I've figured out that justice isn't of primary importance to my people -- not the way I thought it was before I met them. So I suppose there are still questions about myself that remain unanswered."

"You mean your passion for justice?"

"I guess you could call it that." Odo chuckled a little. "The 'justice trick'."

"What?"

"I called it that once, in a security log entry -- back when Quark was nearly killed by the agent of that Vaatrik woman." They both fell silent as they remembered the incident, and Odo felt Kira shudder beside him. He lowered himself back against her, turning his head until his lips met her skin and kissing her gently. "I thought then that it was a racial memory of my species -- I suppose in way that it is, only it's become somehow -- distorted for them."

"How do you mean?" Kira asked softly. Odo detached himself slowly from her arms, sitting up in the bed beside her and leaning back against the rounded headboard.

"While I was in the Link -- I finally began to understand them -- my people -- to know what they had experienced. They began with a passion for justice -- only they met injustice everywhere they went. They were slaughtered simply for being what they were ... and justice finally ceased to matter except as how it affected them. They wanted justice for themselves ... and justice ended up meaning control, and retribution for anyone who threatened them. And then," Odo concluded, sighing, "they had to deal with me."

"Why couldn't they understand," Kira asked, "that you were acting in self-defense?"

"As they perceive it, I wasn't. The other changeling wouldn't have killed me -- only the rest of you. To their way of thinking, I took the life of one of my own in defense of their enemies -- the 'solids'."

"And now ... are you sorry?"

"That I did it?" Odo asked, feeling a stab of surprise at the question. "Always. I never wanted to take a life." He paused for a moment, reliving the pain he had experienced on that awful day. "But if the circumstances were the same, and I had to make the same choices, I would." He forced himself to look down into Kira's questioning eyes, smiling a little as he did so. "And now, I'm about to say something I've never said before."

"What's that?" Kira, also smiling, reached to take his hand in hers.

"I'm hungry."

Kira chuckled. "Then we'd better get up and go have something to eat -- unless you'd rather I just replicated us something here."

Time to make a stand. "No," Odo said decidedly, "I want to take my wife out to dinner -- and eat with her, for a change."

"Where did you have in mind?" Kira climbed out of bed, causing 'That-Which-Dwells-Below', as Odo had started thinking of a certain new appendage, an appreciative stirring of interest as he beheld her slim, naked body. She walked over to the closet, frowning a little as she examined the contents.

"How about Quark's?" Odo stood as well, coming up behind Kira to wrap his arms around her, carelessly disregarding the effect this had on his body's condition.

"Are you sure you want to go out?" Kira asked, amused, even while she pressed back against him.

No time to retreat now, Odo told himself sternly. He saw in a heartbeat how easy it would be to hide between his wife's thighs, figuratively speaking, from a world that had turned into one giant question mark. He stepped away from Kira, sighing.

"I think I'll be better off once I -- once I start facing people. I imagine they'll be -- curious."

"No doubt," Kira agreed. "Tell you what -- what would you say if I wore a dress?"

"A dress?" Odo felt a small, surprised glimmer of pleasure. "I haven't seen you in a dress since our wedding."

"You hardly ever saw me in one before that, either," Kira said with a grin. "And do you know what?" To his questioning look she added, "It's the same damned dress."

"If I remember correctly, you look absolutely beautiful in it." Odo raised his hand to Kira's cheek, and nearly lost his sense of resolve. Just a day or two, to hide myself in these rooms, in these arms, in the love of this woman who means everything to me ...

"What I remember most about our wedding day is the way you were almost late for the ceremony because you finally cracked the Anolesi smuggling ring that same morning."

"And even then I wasn't able to implicate Quark." Odo sighed, and then chuckled. "It's just as well -- I imagine it's poor form to arrest one of the guests right before one's own wedding." Odo gathered Kira into his arms, breathing in deeply the scent of her hair. "Maybe you're right -- maybe we can just have something here ..."

"No, you're the one who was right," Kira said firmly, gently extricating herself from his embrace. "You'll be better off once you start facing people." She picked up his discarded uniform and tossed it into the recycling unit beside the replicator. "I assume you don't want to wear this ... do you know your measurements?"

"No, but the computer can access them from the Defiant." Odo smiled as he joked, "Either that or I can just wear my tux."

Kira responded with a slow, answering grin. "You know, that's not a bad idea."

"What? Wear a tuxedo to Quark's?"

"Sure! I'll wear my black dress, and afterwards we can try to get a holosuite so we can dance together. Maybe Julian and Jadzia can join us."

Oh ... all right." A small nagging fear tapped sharply at the base of Odo's spine, but he pushed it away, annoyed. He refused to let anything disturb the gleam of delight that danced in Kira's eyes.

"We'd better grab a quick shower first," Kira observed, heading into the bathroom. "For the first time, Constable, I'm not the only one who smells."

Odo followed her curiously. The bathroom in their quarters had been a room he visited rarely at best, and then only when Kira lured him in to share in the delights of the Cardassian water-shower with her, a rarity to be found only in the former officer's accommodations from when DS9 had been Terok Nor. And there his nemesis awaited him -- staring at him from the mirror over the sink.

His face.

'They left me this face -- so I'll never forget what I was. Or what I lost.' So he had told Julian Bashir, and so he told himself now as he stared at his seamless, putty-like visage. I suppose I could have it altered surgically, he mused. I wonder what Nerys would think of that -- would she like it if I had a new face? She told me 'no' once before, but perhaps it was different then ...

Odo felt something cool beneath the fingers of his left hand, and realized that he had reached out to touch the surface of the mirror. He listened to the rush of the water, Kira's splashing in the shower stall behind him, and in his mind heard the gentle gurgle, the liquid motion of his people in the Great Link. His eyes closed as his hand curled convulsively into a fist -- and then he felt Kira's soft fingers close gently around his wrist.

"Come on," she said softly. "Let's save time and water. Come in with me."

They didn't make love, although the thought did occur to him -- instead, Odo let himself relax in the steamy spray as Kira gently ran a sponge over his body, anointed with soap that carried the crisp scent of mint. She let her lips brush against many of the places she touched, her kisses soft and undemanding -- Odo returned the favor in time, enjoying in a strangely asexual way the warmth of Kira's wet skin, her smooth curves. It was a delicate, manageable eroticism that they carried with them as they dressed for dinner, one that guaranteed how the evening would end without dragging it to a halt.

Odo looked in the mirror one last time as he struggled to tie his bow tie. 'Go ahead,' it seemed to mock him. 'I'll still be here when you get back.' He considered breaking it, but he had heard of the old earth superstition from Bashir, and decided to stay his hand.

I think I've had just about all the bad luck I can stand.

Quark's eyes brightened as Odo and Kira walked into the bar, and Odo was surprised to find those eyes focused on him, rather than leering at the beautiful woman at his side. He's been worried about me, Odo realized with bemused astonishment. It's funny how some friendships form because of circumstances, and some friendships form in spite of them. He walked up to the bar, Kira on his arm, nodding gravely to his enemy-come-ally.

"Good evening, Quark. Still open, I see." The ritual still needed to be addressed.

"Business is booming, Constable." Quark grinned his usual rapacious grin. "Major Kira -- I must say, you're -- a vision. An absolute vision."

"You say that all you want to, Quark, but if you try to pinch me like the last time I wore this dress --"

"Major! You wound me!" Quark held his hand to his heart. "I don't know what you were talking about -- it must have been Morn."

Morn, seated at the far end of the bar, turned at the sound of his name, eyes gleaming with the hope of conversation. But Odo had already leaned in closer to the bar.

"Quark, Major Kira and I would like a table for dinner, and we'd like a holosuite reservation for, say, an hour-and-a-half from now, if there's something available."

"For you, Constable? I'll have to check." Quark made a great show of checking his computer terminal. "It looks like I can just fit you in -- but only because it's you and Major Kira."

"I appreciate that, Quark,." Odo growled the words, even though he meant what he said. He led Kira to a table on the upper level, where Kira studied the menu with a decided air of futility.

"Some hasperat," she said finally, "they don't do that too badly here ... what about you, Odo? Do you know what you want?"

"Oh ... steamed azmah will be fine."

Kira placed their orders with the Ferengi waiter before asking, "Odo -- do you like steamed azmah?"

"Why not?" Odo wondered briefly if he'd done something unheard of, from the curious expression on Kira's face. "Dax recommended it -- it's supposed to be very healthy."

"Well, yes, but -- not very good." Kira's nose wrinkled further in distaste. "Why don't you try some of my hasperat when it gets here -- I think you'll like it better." She dimpled in a sudden smile. "And for dessert we can have some I'danian spice pudding."

"I thought you said that was fattening."

"Oh, it is ... but you have to splurge once in a while."

Dinner was largely uneventful, except that Odo discovered that hasperat was indeed tastier that steamed azmah, and that I'danian spice pudding was second only to sex. He shamelessly ate all of his and more than half of Kira's when she pushed her dish at him, moaning that she couldn't eat another mouthful. He was busily scraping at the last morsels when he noticed how she was watching him, a soft, warm light in her eyes while her dimples shone.

"What is it, Nerys? Have I done something amusing?"

"I just never thought to see you enjoy something as simple as -- a dish of spice pudding." Kira looked away quickly, but not before Odo caught the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

"Nerys --" He reached across the table, taking her hand. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Kira gave him a strained smile. "I'm just -- so glad to have you back in one piece, that's all." She squeezed his hand tightly, before suddenly catching sight of something across the room.

Odo followed her gaze to see Dax and Bashir just sitting down at a nearby table. They, too, were dressed to the nines in their usual dancing formal wear.

"Julian! Jadzia!" Kira called. "Please! Won't you join us?"

Smiling, the young doctor and the Trill rose and abandoned their table, coming to draw up extra chairs to Odo's and Kira's instead. "We didn't know if we should intrude," Dax apologized. She glanced quickly at the contents of the table. "Mmm ... spice pudding!"

"How can you tell?" Bashir wondered, picking up the empty dish. "This has practically been licked clean!"

"That's how," Dax retorted. "What else gets licked clean at Quark's?"

They all laughed at her comment before Kira asked, "Julian, is there any chance we could borrow your ballroom dancing holoprogram?"

"Why, certainly, Major." Bashir gave a charming smile. "Dax and I were thinking we might use it ourselves this evening, but it seems all of the holosuites are reserved."

"Tell you what -- we've got a holosuite in less than an hour," Kira told him. "If you have the program, we can all share."

"You've got yourself a deal, Major." Bashir's smiling gaze moved to Odo, quietly contemplating whether or not any more spice pudding could be mined from his empty dish. "Ready to put us all to shame, Odo?"

Odo had startled them all in the past with his uncanny aptitude for ballroom dancing. Now he shrugged, with a wry grimace.

"It's been a while since I've had any practice." Odo forced himself to maintain the same casual tone as he continued, "Besides, the -- the equipment that I'll be working with has altered somewhat."

There was a sudden, uncomfortable pause as they all contemplated Odo's change in status. Dax smiled reassuringly.

"I'm sure you'll be fine ... how different can it be?"

Odo looked up at her, startled, wondering if she was really serious. He was even more astonished to realize that she was. Then he felt Kira's hand come to rest on his knee under the table, and covered it gratefully with his own.

"I guess there's no way to know but to try," Odo finally commented. That seemed to be the answer to so many questions these days.

No way to know but to try.

Odo supposed that he might, given time, learn to look back and laugh at some of the things that happened to him as he adjusted to his new and unfamiliar humanoid body. However, he seriously doubted that the "Great Tango Catastrophe" would ever be one of them.

It started out fairly well ... perhaps mindful that there could be difficulties, Bashir had the holographic musicians start out with a waltz, and Odo found it at least possible to conform to the steps he remembered, if with less than his remembered grace. Still, it was wonderful to hold Kira's satin clad body close to his, to feel her breasts pressing gently into his chest -- he knew that, technically speaking, he always held Kira a little closer than the dance properly called for, but he always thought that propriety could jettison itself out an airlock. No matter how awkward it was -- he was slightly startled at all of the ways their bodies didn't quite fit together as they moved to the music, all of the little adjustments that had to be made that he had managed quite unconsciously before.

However, it was when they switched to a tango that the problems really began ...

The night they had first learned that particular dance, Odo and Kira had caused Dax and Bashir to flee the holosuite for fear that they were going to be witness to acts more intimate than the dance itself should they stay. But on this occasion, Odo found himself suddenly, hopelessly out of his element -- he knew the movements, but there was no way he could force this new and alien body to make them come together to achieve the desired results. Problems were inevitable, and they came soon enough -- attempting to spin Kira with something of his usual flourish, they both ended up on the floor. Even then it might have seemed vaguely amusing, if it hadn't been for the dull, popping sound that somehow echoed over the other sounds in the room, and the agonizing pain that exploded through Odo's shoulder, forcing an anguished moan to come rumbling up from his gut. Dinner nearly followed, but somehow he forced it back down.

Bashir was by his side in a heartbeat, a small pocket med-scanner in his hand.

"All right ... just take it easy ... don't move ..."

"I wouldn't dream of it ..." Odo managed to growl.

Kira, kneeling across from Bashir, asked tersely, "What is it, Julian?"

"Shoulder out of its socket. Hang on, Constable, this is going to hurt." Without further preamble, Julian popped the joint back into place. Once again, Odo had to struggle against the reemergence of a large quantity of I'danian spice pudding. Bashir tapped his combadge. "Two to beam to the Infirmary. STAT."

Once he had Odo safely ensconced on a biobed in the Infirmary, Bashir was quick to administer the required pain-deadening drugs, and to begin to run a series of regenerating scans. Odo stood it all with limp forbearance -- he was just grateful not to hurt anymore. By the time Kira and Dax came hurrying through the door, Bashir was standing back from his work with his best professional smile, nodding in satisfaction.

"There you go, Odo ... good as new. I'm sorry I had to relocate it before I could give you medication, but I just don't like transporting someone with a bone out of joint like that."

"As long as he's all right," Kira said, looking like she would hold Bashir personally responsible should matters turn out to be otherwise. "Odo, how do you feel?"

Terrified, Odo wanted to say. Instead he tested his arm and shoulder cautiously. "Like the doctor says -- good as new." He sat up and swung his legs off the table, getting lightly to his feet. "However, if you don't mind, I think I'll call it a night."

"That sounds like a fine plan," Bashir assured him, his best bedside manner in place. "You're making quite a serious adjustment here, Odo -- give it time."

Time . . . time enough for what? Time enough for the ache to go away? To lose this longing to slip past the restraints imposed on me by this too-solid shape? How long would that take?

Forever?

Such thoughts haunted Odo all of the way to his and Kira's quarters, where Kira made him sit on the sofa while more ginger tea -- hot this time -- was produced from the replicator. Odo tested the beverage cautiously, and found it palatable, if a little too hot for comfort -- he remembered how Kira always ordered her coffee and raktajino extra hot. He supposed that ginger tea fell into the same category ...

Kira disappeared into the bedroom, and reappeared shortly wearing one of the wisps of cloth she had purchased from Garak's shop in her first rush of gratitude after the Gorem incident. This particular wisp was a soft ivory silk the exact hue of Kira's own skin, and Odo's acknowledged favorite -- he smiled as Kira crossed the room toward him, her body faintly visible through the thin fabric. He caught her hips in his hands when she stopped directly in front of him, his own lips curving in response to the questioning smile on her lips.

"Are you sure you're up for it, Constable?" she teased gently.

"Would you like me to show you?" Odo retorted, gratefully turning off his mind as his body began to stir.

"Grab your tea and bring it into the bedroom," Kira invited, picking up her own cup and turning back in the direction from which she had come. Once there, she pulled off the silk nightshirt and tossed it casually across a chair, before sitting down on the bed and beginning to sip her tea thoughtfully. She finally set her cup on the table beside the bed and reached out for Odo, who, already stripped of his jacket and shirt, gratefully surrendered the management of his trousers into her capable hands.

She usually ends up taking these off for me anyway, Odo thought suddenly, with a rush of gratitude that something had actually remained the same. He managed to hang onto that illusion until he was completely naked, and Kira slid her hands up the backs of his thighs, catching him by the buttocks and caressing him gently. She then startled him by pushing him back to allow herself room to stand, placing her hands on his shoulders to gently maneuver him down on the bed in her place.

"Just sit there for a minute," she said softly, sinking to her knees in front of him. Odo stared at her, uncomprehending -- then gasped as she bent over to take him into her mouth.

If their earlier attempts had been intense, this was beyond all hope of reason. Odo groaned, wondering for a brief moment if he was going to pass out at the maddening, overwhelming deluge of sensation. The indescribable actions of Kira's lips, the unbelievable responses being elicited by her probing tongue ... Odo soon provided a deluge of his own, and fell back against the bed, gasping and sated.

Kira slipped onto the bed beside him, smiling a little as she reached for her cup of tea. Odo watched the muscles of her throat as she drank deeply of the now-cooled tea -- like she was drinking deeply of me, he thought, dazed once again at the notion that losing a part of his substance could be so intensely pleasurable. He reached out and caught Kira's hand in his, resolving to leave nothing to chance in his efforts to please her in kind. Smiling, Kira let herself be drawn into position so that Odo's face was between her thighs, and his mouth had easy access to the tangy, musky folds to be found there.

I know this place, Odo thought to himself, I have been here before. But it was startlingly, headily different, with the scent of her musk filling his nose and her taste filling his mouth -- a rich, pungent taste, somehow familiar. Is it just that this human body knows these things, knows them in its very bones? He had absolutely no idea -- he only knew that Kira was writhing at the persistent touching of his mouth and avid tongue, until she finally gasped and begged him to stop.

In a silent, mutual agreement, they crept under the blankets together and settled, sighing, in each other's arms. Odo felt a renewed surge of interest in his groin, but willed it to pass, afraid that it might not be enough to carry Kira with him for yet another orgasmic encounter. Instead he kissed her gently, whispering, "Was that all right?"

"That was lovely," Kira purred. "It's so nice to --"

She paused. Odo nudged her, "So nice to what?"

"Oh ... to know when you're satisfied. I remember when we were first together, and how I was never sure."

"I'm always satisfied with you," Odo said simply.

"So you say -- but now I've tasted the evidence." Her smile deepened to a risque grin. "You might even say I've really absorbed the material."

Odo felt himself flushing at the outspoken innuendo. "How was it?" he finally dared to ask.

"Not bad at all, actually. Some men taste just awful. You -- it's obvious you don't have a lot of gunk in your system."

"But you swallow it?"

Kira shrugged, laughing a little at the blunt question. "It's neater that way. I was in the Resistance -- you don't leave around anymore DNA evidence than you can help." She snuggled into him, letting her hand run teasingly down his belly to caress his still partially aroused organ. "So, Constable, are you up for round two?"

"Actually, I'm a little tired --" Odo began, even as his penis made a liar of him. He let out a throaty sigh, capturing her hand and holding it against him before Kira could draw it away. "Then again --"

"Well, come on over," Kira invited, rolling on her back and pulling him after her. Odo maneuvered between her thighs with what he fervently hoped was reasonable grace, letting her guide him into her with her soft, capable hands. He kept his eyes riveted on her face, watching for signs that what he was doing was what she wanted -- at length she let out a low moan, her back arching as her body spasmed around him. Odo thankfully let himself finish inside her, even while he reminded himself, the shots. I have to ask Bashir about the shots. Then tiredness overwhelmed him and he collapsed gratefully in Kira's arms, willing himself to let it all go until another day.

Day Two, he thought drowsily, already on the edge of sleep. Odo the human male comes to the end of Day One -- Prophets, this was only Day One. What will Day Two bring ...?

Personal Log, Kira Nerys, Star Date ____________.

Why did I ever start this damned thing?

I never needed a personal log in the Resistance ... living from day to day was enough. I must have too much time on my hands, to have ever bothered with something like this -- only I'm addicted now. There's just something about having one place where you can always tell the truth.

Funny. That used to be Odo's office.

He's sleeping now -- he looks so defenseless, with his eyes closed and his mouth open -- just a little -- and his hair all over the place. This stranger in our bed.

This stranger whom I love.

It's terrible watching someone you love in such pain ... he doesn't think I can see it -- he thinks that I don't know the half of it, but I can, I do. It's like a wall of crystal, sealing him in some prison ...

Great. Now I'm a poet. NOT what the situation calls for, not in the least.

I need to help Odo face his future, not dwell on his past. We have an entirely different life to build now, in some ways a new relationship to form ... all of those human idiosyncrasies to cope with that we never had to before.

The question is: how to get Odo to focus squarely on that future without dwelling on the past? And how to get myself to do the same, not concerning myself with those precious things that we've lost. After all, the core of our relationship remains intact -- the love, the friendship are there.

The sex, however, has thus far proven a major disappointment.

It isn't that he's failing miserably -- aside from that initial fiasco -- Odo is still a thoughtful and considerate lover. Prophets know I've had far worse. It's just -- well, what can you say about a lover who can hold his shape for sixteen hours? Not that he ever tried, but we did go for the better part of an afternoon once ... I lost count of the number of times I climaxed, and we only stopped when I passed out. I'm afraid it scared Odo, he's never tried to repeat the experiment -- but as far as I'm concerned it was an unqualified success, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

At least I wasn't exaggerating to him about the equipment -- in that respect the Founders were, I suppose, kind. Or maybe it didn't occur to them to cheat him in that area, too.

Still, they made him human -- not Bajoran. I suspect that it wasn't an accident, but a conscious choice to make his life even harder. Dammit, I miss those ridges.

Hell, I miss that golden mass that flowed into me like light and stimulated my every nerve ending. What human lover could compare to that?

Easy answer: none. Not even Odo himself. Not now.

I don't think he knows that I faked it that first time -- thank the Prophets. I was just too nervous to think about having a orgasm, much less actually do it -- and I knew that a second failure would not sit well at all.

Great. I've lied to him again. With my body, which has made a habit of always telling him the truth, even before my mind knew what that truth was.

Oh, well. Needs must.

I know that time will heal much of this -- certain memories will fade, others will come to take their place. He's still the only one I can ever imagine being with, loving with, living with. At least the chemistry seems to be there -- he smells wonderful to me. The pheromones match up. Hah-hah, Founders. You messed up there if you meant to keep us apart. Those last two orgasms were no fakes, thank you very much.

What are a few ridges and a little extra stamina, when all is said and done, next to those sexy blue eyes, that lean, long body I can wrap my arms and legs around? And he IS big. Call me shallow, but it helps.

I guess I need to see Julian tomorrow about some shots, although I'm actually of two minds about it. One of the drawbacks to our relationship -- or so Odo has always believed -- is his inability to give me children. Maybe if I got pregnant, it would be something positive for him to hold on to. For me to hold on to. A point to fix our futures on.

Children ... what a terrifying thought. I certainly never planned on having any, never had any deep maternal cravings longing to be filled. Hell, what Resistance fighter could and still remain sane? Living day to day, that was enough. To think about the future was only to invite disaster.

Now, though, that the possibility exists, there is a certain ... fearful joy in the thought of having a child. For some reason I keep having this image of a red-haired baby with Odo's blue eyes, although realistically that seems unlikely ... brown eyes are dominant on Bajor, and dominant among humans, so I suppose there's no reason to believe that they aren't dominant when you mix the two. Still, that's the vision ... easier to focus on that than the fearful years beyond. I guess that babies are like the Resistance ... you just have to take them one day at a time.

To hell with the shots. I think I'll just trust this one to the Prophets.

Yeah, there's more! Go here to read more of "Changed Perception".

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