The BLTS Archive - A Break in the Rain
by C. Zdroj (czb@comcast.net)

---

DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the DS9 universe and characters. No
copyright infringement is intended here. Please ask before
reposting or republishing.

ARCHIVING: ASC. Others please ask.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is set during the events of "When It
Rains," and Tacking into the Wind."

---

Kira's naked body curved upward as she straddled her lover on the
narrow cot. Her legs eased apart and she released a tiny gasp as
the warm, wet ache between her thighs was pierced and  slowly
filled. She felt more than heard Odo's deep sigh of pleasure as
their bodies met and merged together.

For several heartbeats, she was still, impaled on him, listening
to the pulses of her own body. Picking up on that internal
rhythm, she began to move wordlessly, her eyes closed, her lips
silently mouthing the words, "Yes ... oh yes, oh yesyesyes ..."

Odo's fingertips moved on the small of her back, stroking,
pulling her snugly down against him so that her hips were cradled
in his large, warm hands. They breathed together in soft, ragged
gasps.

Kira kept her eyes shut, blocking out of sight the gray walls of
the room, the corrugated metal shelves, the whole oppressively
close Cardassian atmosphere; blocking out of memory everything
but the image of her lover's smooth, angular face, eyes closed
and lips open as he moved underneath her. She felt his hips,
velvet-smooth as they rocked between her thighs, felt him inside
her -- a deep, satisfying fullness that her whole body clenched
around, almost desperately. Her hands made fists in the
bedsheets. The steady creak of the mattress became a counterpoint
to the low, animal-like sounds of their pleasure in coupling.

It was not a place to make love -- a stiflingly hot little root
cellar of a room many meters below ground, cooled only by the
ancient and rickety environmental unit that Kira had managed to
snag from the supply room. She supposed that it would at least
partially cover the noise they were making. On the other hand,
she didn't especially care if Rusot and the others heard. She
tilted her head back and groaned as Odo surged beneath her.

"Oh, Prophets ..." she gasped. "Odo ..." Any further words were
swallowed up as her lips found his and their tongues mingled
together in an almost liquid kiss. She tasted heat and light and
mineral sweetness in his mouth. Odo's hands moved back up over
her spine, squeezed her shoulders and pulled her even deeper into
him. She wound herself around his body like ivy around a
tree-trunk, her fingers sliding greedily over his skin, exploring
the curve of his hip, the softness of his belly and flank. Kira
drew slowly back from their kiss and listened to the soft intake
of Odo's breath as his mouth released hers. She watched his face
register pure pleasure as her hands skimmed over his unreal,
perfect, water-smooth skin that was somehow more real than any
flesh she had ever touched.

Kira reached lower, down the inside of his thigh and to the base
of the erection he had formed. She let one finger stroke just
along their join, along the moist edge of her lips and over the
tender skin covering his shaft, until Odo began to laugh softly
with acute, agonized joy. "Ohhhh ...  Nerys," came his soft,
throaty rasp, breathed low against her ear. "You wicked, wicked
woman ..."

"Why thank you, constable ..." she teased softly, licking along
his throat and then burying her face in the side of his neck. She
strained upward to nibble behind his earlobe, then felt his
essence expand and thrum within her walls. Kira rolled her hips
with a little moan of surprise, and Odo's hands moved on her
breasts, his fingertips tracing circles around her hard, aching
nipples. She growled, leaning down to kiss him once more. In the
dimness she felt his outer contours growing slick and pliable,
almost fluid as his form became less stable. She slid one hand
carefully between their bellies and let one finger come gently to
rest against Odo's navel, stroking in a tiny circle within that
slight depression. She moved over him slowly, measuring her
thrusts and watching how he reacted, watching his face grow taut.

"Ohhh, Prophets ..." he moaned. "Gods, Nerys!" His body arched
and his eyes closed in anguished pleasure.

Odo gasped, and his hips bucked sharply beneath her, so that his
thick smooth rod of flesh thrust up hard into Kira, making her
curse and groan even as her pelvis ground down on him, forcing
him deeper still. Kira rolled her hips firmly, biting her lip to
keep from screaming.

Their fucking became rough and animal-like. She felt herself
expand and contract around him. Odo made a soft moaning sound
against her neck as the rhythms of her body moved him too. He
shivered. Kira felt a stab of fear in that moment of primal
closeness. "Stay with me ... " she whispered against his temple.
It was a desperate plea. "Stay with me, Odo ..."

As she moved inexorably toward her orgasm, Kira stared down in
amazement at Odo's supposedly "expressionless" mask of a face --
a face that could render ecstasy or heartbreak with a twitch of
the mouth or flash of the eyes. The smooth contours, the
"blurring" of his features, seemed to amplify rather than hide
emotion. Odo's face, she thought in that moment, was not some
pale imitation of humanoid features, but might instead have been
their original. His desire for her was desire itself, his
pleasure in her the essence of all pleasure.

Kira lowered her head and let her tongue sweep over the soft
brown halo of Odo's left nipple, sucking at him hard and
hungrily, feeling his hands come up to squeeze her hips. They
climaxed together, hard and noisily. Kira screamed. Odo groaned
as if in deep anguish. Then they tumbled into the aftershock,
holding each other, shaking and gasping for breath. Kira sprawled
across Odo's chest, clutching his shoulders, listening to the
frantic thudding of her own heart in the stillness.

"Prophets, I needed that," she whispered into his skin.

"I know," he rasped softly. "So did I."

For some moments they lay motionless, catching their breath,
their bodies still fitted together. Odo's hand came up to lightly
brush over Kira's cheek, to rest there against her skin. "What is
it?" he said at last, his warm breath gently stirring her hair as
he kissed her.

Kira pressed her face into his shoulder. Damn. She hadn't meant
for him to see, to hear the anxiety in her voice. "Stay with me."
Only here, in this bed, in a stolen moment and under the cover of
her passion, could she ever have begged him not to die and leave
her. Only here could she touch his body tenderly without him
reading it as pity for his illness. She had not meant for him to
sense the double meaning in her words and touches, but she should
have known better. He had always been attuned to her emotional
states even before they were lovers. Of course he sensed her
anxiety, for she was shaking with it even as she lay in his
embrace.

As the wet heat of tears began to sting her eyes, she felt his
fingers sifting through her hair. He said her name softly, over
and over, as he began to knead her shoulders. To feel his touch,
so adept and so articulate, anyone would think that he had been
making love to women his whole life. Yet Kira knew this was not
so. This was for her alone -- the skilled touch of his hands, the
comforting, intimate closeness of his body.

"You're upset," he observed quietly, still kissing his way along
her neck, still trying to soothe her.

"I'm not," she denied, even as she rubbed the tears away on his
shoulder. "I just ... it's been a long day."

"And it's too warm in here," said Odo knowingly. He rolled Kira
onto her back and regarded her thoughtfully. Despite herself,
Kira laughed softly.

"Yes," she agreed. "It is."

Odo said nothing for a moment, but drew one of her hands away
from his face and turned his head to place a kiss into her palm,
and then to rub his cheek there with obvious pleasure, his eyes
closed. "I should thank you ... for yesterday," he murmured.

"Oh?"

"For getting angry on my behalf," his voice was gently amused.
"No one else ever does that for me."

Kira pulled him down to her, let her lips brush tantalizingly
over his. "It wasn't difficult," she breathed, halfway to kissing
him. "Rusot is easy to get angry at." She let her mouth come to
rest against his temple. "I'm glad that you're here, Odo," she
told him earnestly. "I'm not sure I could do this without you."

"I'm sure that you could," he replied. "But for whatever it's
worth, I don't trust Rusot, either." He made the observation in a
tone that was almost neutral. "I've had my eye on him for a while
now." He raised his hands, and Kira slowly let her palms slide
across his, so that their fingers could intertwine. Their kiss
became deep as their grip on each other tightened. Afterward Kira
rubbed her nose along Odo's cheek. "I hate it ... when you do
that," she whispered.

"Kiss you?" he murmured against her forehead.

"No ..." she breathed, her lips gently finding his again. "When
you read my mind like a datapadd."

"Do I?"

"All the damned time." Suddenly hungry now, she let her tongue
tease at Odo's lips and then push roughly into his mouth. He
permitted the intrusion, and for several moments their verbal
conversation was stilled. Finally, Kira pulled back for a breath.

"I love you," she told him, striving to keep her voice from
shaking.

"I know. I love you."

"And you don't have to worry about me, okay?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," said Odo. It was a lie and they both
knew it, but Kira was grateful for Odo's collusion.

"About Rusot ..." she began.

"What about him?" Odo's voice shifted to a growl.

"You wouldn't believe what he asked me today."

"I'll bet I would."

Kira grinned wryly. "He seemed to want to know if you faked your


orgasms. How's that for taking personal interest in someone?"

Odo regarded her with one of those priceless sardonic looks that
he was so skilled in. "Shocking," he said mildly.

Kira was in fact, a little surprised to find that she was still
seething about that particular exchange, now that she had
mentioned it. Rusot had cornered her that morning, asking her
tauntingly how it was to be with a changeling in bed. "Does the
shapeshifter cry out?" the Cardassian had asked snidely. "Does he
enjoy the feel of your skin against his? Or does the creature
merely service my lady's desires? I've heard all the rumors of
how ... *amusing* he was during the Occupation." The memory
of his tone still made her burn with resentment. She lowered her
voice. "I could be imagining things," she said to Odo, "but I
don't like the way he looks at me -- like I'm a piece of meat."

"That," said Odo softly, caressing her arm. "... is why I watch
him."

"During the Occupation a Bajoran woman was only ever one thing to
Cardassian soldiers," Kira mused, "... a target. Easy prey. I've
never let myself be that -- but here ... with all of them ... I'm
always remembering what it used to be like, constantly having to
watch your back. I just keep sensing that he's waiting for an
opening, waiting for me to slip."

"He wants you to lose your temper," Odo observed. "To lose
control. That's why he enjoys provoking you." He paused and gave
her a thin smile. "I trust that you gave him a proper thrashing
for impugning my honor."

"I left him holding his crotch in the cargo bay. Howling loudly."

Odo smiled. "You're a menace, Nerys."

"Well, I try," she said. She stroked the side of his face,
wanting to ask how he was feeling. She sensed that he was
covering up the true severity of his illness to spare her worry.
It would be just like him. It really wasn't right, she thought,
that he could always get her to confess when something was
bothering her, but insisted on maintaining silence when it came
to his own problems. It was, undoubtedly, one of the reasons it
had taken them so long to become lovers.

"I couldn't let him talk about you that way ... not when ..." she
stopped, not certain what she was trying to say. *Not when you
might be dying.*

Odo tilted his head inquiringly. Kira found herself flushing
bright red.

"When what?" he asked.

"When you're such an ... expressive lover," she said at last. "He
seemed to think that you would be ..."

"Incapable of passion?"

"Well, yes."

To her astonishment, Odo let out a low chuckle.

"What?" demanded Kira.

"I get the distinct impression that a great many people are
surprised to see us together, for exactly that reason."

Kira slipped her arms around him. "If I didn't know you better,
constable, I would think you were pleased by that idea."

"I'm pleased that you are here, with me, now." He buried his face
in her hair and gave a soft, low growl. "I'm pleased every time
you touch me ..." he breathed. He kissed her again, slow and
deep, and Kira felt as if she were reeling back, falling into
something, some uncertainty that she dared not confront just yet.
She let her tongue find his and seemed to gently meld with his
whole body in that instant. Linking ... perhaps this was what it
was like.

She had loved him always, it now seemed to her, loved him without
knowing that she did: resting in his silence, admiring his
wisdom, secretly yearning for his touch and yet somehow believing
that he would never offer it. As she let her tongue explore Odo's
mouth, as she felt his smooth torso arching up beneath her, she
was amazed that she could ever have been unaware of how deeply
she loved this man -- and how desperately she needed him. It
could only have been some foolish, prejudiced, short-sightedness
in her that had led her to assume he could never feel as she did.
Because he was a changeling. Because he was an "unreal" humanoid.
An alien.

*Oh no,* she thought, taking his face between her hands and
feeling him gasp as her mouth tasted the smooth flesh of his
neck. *You are no alien to me.* She let her hands slide under
his shoulders, drawing him into herself, wishing that there could
be more, that there could be a future for them together, her
body and her passions crying out that there had to be, her
soldier's mind knowing better, cautioning, reminding her to think
only of now.

It was not the first time that Kira Nerys had shared a desperate
night of lovemaking with a comrade. It was not the first time
she'd let herself draw strength and reassurance from the touch of
another warm body in the face of an uncertain future. Yet when
Odo's arms slipped around her, when his hands moved slowly up and
down over her back, she felt a kind of quiet strength filling her
up. She lay in the curve of his body, knowing that she had always
been here, with him. It was that simple. He was her lover now,
meaning that she enjoyed the privilege of his bed and his body.
But their intimacy ran much deeper. It always had. Odo was more
than her lover, more than her friend. His was the one soul that
had looked into and understood her own. Even Bareil had never
truly known her in this way. She wanted to explain this to the
man in her arms, but she was a soldier, clumsy with words, and
coherent speech of any kind was fast slipping away from her as
she dropped into drowsiness.

"Nerys ..." he breathed, and she knew that it was her touch, and
her touch only, that could ever arouse this kind of passion in
him. The notion of having that much power in her own fingertips
was a bit unnerving -- like the way he looked at her, with that
ageless love burning in his eyes.

"I love you," she heard herself murmur in the warm dark, and
Odo's words, whispered close to her ear, echoed the phrase back
as she finally relinquished herself to sleep.

---

continued in 'Holding and Letting Go'

---

Note: "A Break in the Rain" also appears in my new digest-sized
zine, "Fragments of Amber" -- a collection of five new O/K
stories (write me privately for ordering information). The other
stories in the collection will be online eventually, but probably
not until I recover my print cost. -- cz