Kira folded her hands behind her head, grinning at the ceiling, quite pleased with herself. Odo was done for, and she was responsible for it. She had finally managed to outdo the station's infallible chief of security, had outlasted him and reduced him to this, an inert mass of exhausted Changeling that covered her from neck to toes. It had been a close race to see which of them would tap out first, but Kira didn't have to go sleep if she didn't want to. Odo's body forced him to regenerate at some point, whether he liked it or not, and he had certainly put his body to use, so it was fair enough when it happened.
Kira looked over her amber-dipped skin, and smiled. She was so glad she had been there to catch him.
Sex, Kira decided, was forever ruined. If for some reason Odo left her, she would be no good for anyone else. The Major's speculations about her chief of security had been but a pale shadow of reality. No one had ever taken so much care with body, or her pleasure. All that discipline and restraint Odo possessed turned to something else entirely in the bedroom, every inch of her still singing from his attentions. None of her prior partners could come close to how good Odo turned out to be in bed, and she'd told him as much, right before their last round.
Odo had smiled smugly, and was quick to point out that he hadn't even shown her how to do things his way. That, he'd informed her, they would both need to be well rested for.
The Major recalled what had brought them to this, laying in her bed, spent and sated. That kiss on the Promenade was, for lack of any other word, epic. She and Odo would be trying to live down the impulsive- and public- exhibition they'd held, for months to come. After all, Dax had seen the whole thing, and Kira knew the Trill was going to bring it up as much as she possibly could.
Actually, Kira didn't blame Dax if she did. That was some kiss.
When it was over, and Odo had stood Kira straight, had caught her and held her up as her weakened knees nearly dropped her, the whole Promenade had burst into crazy applause. She'd buried her beet-red face in Odo's neck, hiding. She blushed again, just thinking about it. Prophets, she couldn't believe she'd so wholly lost herself in front of all those people.
Odo's passion had shocked her, the intensity of her reaction had shocked her, the crowd had shocked her, but Kira was shocked further still by what her Changeling had whispered in her ear.
“Nerys, if we don't get off this promenade, and find someplace private, these nice people are getting a rather graphic encore. Please, let's get out of here. Let's go to your quarters.”
“But we're on duty.”
“Duty be damned. I'm not waiting any longer. I want you, right now.”
She'd had just enough time to tell Dax to make excuses for her before Odo grabbed her by the hand, and impatiently, but still courteously, parted the crowd, rushing her onto the turbolift.
And it hadn't been all sex. After the initial hurricane that hit as soon as the door to her quarters closed (she still didn't know where he'd thrown her comm badge), they had slowed things down. They had blown off work completely and spent the whole day together, in her bed.
She had never done this before, wasted an entire day lazing around with a lover, adoring and being adored. Before Odo, she'd never wanted to. They had talked and laughed and explored one another. She'd sprawled herself across his chest as they dozed. When she got hungry, he'd fed her with his own hands, an activity that seemed to bring him a serious amount of satisfaction. And for once, she wasn't thinking about anything but the person she was with. Her mind was finally quiet.
Who in the universe, indeed?
Kira swirled a gentle finger in the amber gel on her belly, and was rewarded by a slight movement. A tendril formed and wound itself around her hand, clinging like a vine. She smiled as she watched Odo climb her arm, pulling on it, encouraging her to rest her arm on her stomach. A little wave of Odo enveloped her as she complied, answering another question she'd always had.
It was delightful, his real form. Warm and silky, rich and sensuous, decadent, like heated oil or melted chocolate. In his liquid state, she'd thought to find him cool, but he wasn't. He was slightly warmer than her, his heat enough that she didn't need anything else. The substance of her lover was a natural barrier between her and the cold.
On that thought, a warm and well-loved Kira closed her eyes, and went to sleep.