"Sons of Mogh"

By Noelle Morrow

Standard disclaimer applies. Paramount owns it,

I have fun with it. Don't steal it from either of us.

JADZIA

"Okay," I said, trying to catch my breath. Worf had just beaten me, *again*, during our morning excercises, "I see your point. The mek'tleh definitely has its advantages. But I still think the bat'tleh, with its longer reach is usually the deciding factor," I patted my face and neck with a towel.

"That is a classic argument," Worf countered, "However, I find using a large and intimidating weapon like the bat'tleh often leads to over confidence."

I sat the towel down and came near him. Amazingly, Worf hadn't even broken a sweat, "So you think that I was over confident?"

"You *were* over confident. You thought by distracting me with your outfit, you would gain an advantage."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, "My outfit?"

Worf began to stammer, "Um, I thought that I mean I only assumed that "

"You thought that I wore this for *you*? Talk about overconfidence."

I walked away from Worf, putting a slight swing in my hips as I did. I was glad to know that at least *one* of my attempts at getting his attention hadn't gone unnoticed. I usually wore a less flattering, looser outfit to our sessions, but today I had on a low cut, skin tight unitard. With a smirk, I turned back to Worf. He was watching me, his eyes focused on every part of my body but my face. So, the stoic Klingon actually *did* have hormones.

"Worf," with one stroke, I brought my broken bat'tleh up to his neck, "Gotcha."

"Movek."

"But," I said, slowly bringing my weapon down, allowing the edge to move along his broad chest as I did. We stood dangerously close to one another, and I changed my tone to a throaty, seductive one, "In my own defense, you do try your own tactics of distraction, with all that shouting and growling you do."

His lips were slightly parted, and I could feel his cool breath whisper against mine. His tone mirrored my own, "I am only vocalizing my ..."

Just when I thought things were finally heating up, just when I thought I might get to taste those dark, perfectly formed lips, our moment was interrupted by the shrill call of the comm system, "Odo to Worf."

"Worf here," his voice was quiet, our eyes remained locked and our lips close.

"Please report to airlock five, Commander. There is an intoxicated Klingon here who is demanding to see you."

Worf lifted his head slightly, "I'm on my way," he turned his face back to mine for a brief moment. In those few milliseconds, I studied it. God, he was gorgeous. I wanted desperately for him to rip my burgundy unitard from me and take me right there in the holosuite. Of course, that didn't happen, "Computer, exit."

He quickly left, I could tell that our little intimate moment made him uneasy. That's okay, I thought, folding my arms and letting a triumphant smile form on my face, It won't be long now.

WORF

"E'Cha."

"Movek."

I pulled my bat'tleh from her neck and studied her face. Dax was panting, and I wanted to make sure that she was not hurt. She and I had just engaged in mock combat, and I'd defeated her.

"Okay, I see you point," Dax walked away from me. She was out of breath, and she wiped her wet face and neck with a towel, "The mek'tleh definitely has its advantages. But I still think the bat'tleh, with its longer reach, is usually the deciding factor."

"That is a classic argument," I replied, "However, I find using a large and intimidating weapon like the bat'tleh, often leads to overconfidence."

Dax came back to where I was, "So, you think that I was overconfident?"

"You were overconfident. You thought by distracting me with your outfit, you would gain and advantage."

"My outfit?"

I regretted saying that as soon as the words left my mouth, "Um, I thought that I mean I only assumed that-- "

"You thought that I wore this for *you*. Talk about over confidence."

She walked away again, and my eyes drifted down the curves of her body. She'd worn an extremely tight and low cut unitard it was not her usual one. I could not help but notice how well put together she was. My eyes were still exploring her form as she walked back to me, placing her bat'tleh around my neck, "Worf. Gotcha."

"Movek," so I had been right. She *had* worn it for me.

"But, in my own defense," she began slowly. Dax was standing so close to me, I could feel her breath as she spoke, "You do try your own tactics of distraction, with all that shouting and growling you do."

I felt I should step back, but my feet would not seem to move. Being this close to her was intriguing, and I silently hoped we could get even closer, "I am only vocalizing my--"

"Odo to Worf."

I had never liked the shapeshifter very much, and now that he'd interrupted my moment with Dax, I liked his even less, "Worf here," I answered.

"Please report to airlock five, Commander. There is an intoxicated Klingon here who is demanding to see you."

"I'm on my way," I turned back to Dax, to take on last look at her beautiful face. Her lips were slightly upturned, she probably found this all very amusing. Yes, she likes teasing me like this, she was incessant. Over the past few months I noticed Commander Dax never passed up an opportunity to flirt with any man, it was like a hobby for her.

"Computer, exit," I left the holosuite. One thing was certain, I definitely could not to let her find out how much I sincerely wanted her. It never work, a woman like that could never be genuinely interested in me. We could be friends, but that would be all. Jadzia could have any man she wanted, why would she ever settle for me?

JADZIA

This man was a mess. That's the conclusion I came to as I walked down to corridor to Worf's quarters. I felt a bad for him, he was trying to walk this imaginary tightrope between his Klingon heritage and his life in Starfleet. Sometimes, he was okay, but most of the time, he fell off. Like today, Worf had tried to perform mok'tovaH, a ritual homicide, on his brother. However, I interfered and stopped him. Now Worf was in trouble, and his brother had been denied the right to an honorable death.

I heard his strong voice usher me in, and I slowly stepped through the door. He spoke to me, very formally, as if we hadn't almost kissed yesterday morning, "What can I do for you Commander?"

My hands, as usual, were locked behind my back. I was terribly nervous, I hoped he wasn't angry, but knew he had every right to be, "I wanted to apologize. I interfered in a family matter, and if I caused you and your brother any further dishonor, I'm sorry."

"You were following your conscious. That is an honorable motive."

"Not from a Klingon point of view."

Worf finally looked at me, "You are not Klingon," he stated.

"Is there *anything* I can do to help?"

"No," Worf answered sternly.

Suddenly, my stomach hurt, "Okay," my voice showed my disappointment. As I turned to leave, Worf stopped me.

"Commander," I faced him again, "There is the question of what to do next "

Worf couldn't be *too* mad if he was asking me for advice. This might work out after all, "Right. Do you have any ideas?"

"None," he admitted wearily.

"Well, in the short term, there's no reason why your brother can't stay here on the station."

Worf seemed to like that idea, he crossed the room and stood before me, "If Kurn is to stay on the station, he will need tasks to perform, a job."

"What about security? It worked for one Klingon officer I know," I answered, timidly smiling up at him.

"Yes, but I doubt Kurn would be interested in joining Starfleet "

I was beginning to loosen up, "Well, there is another security force on the station."

Worf looked up, "Yes, yes, I will speak with Odo about it."

Instinctively, my hand reached up and rested on his shoulder, "I really didn't mean to complicate things for you, Worf."

He looked at my hand, and I quickly pulled it away. I thought he didn't want me to touch him, but as soon as I retracted my hand, he reached down and took it in his. I felt tiny pulses go through me as he touched me, "You have nothing to be sorry about. You have been nothing but a friend to me every since I met you."

My face flushed, *Nothing but a friend*, his voice echoed in my mind. The things was, I didn't want to simply be *Nothing but a friend*.

"I've got to get back to ops "

"Thank you for coming."

I didn't want to let his hand go, I didn't want to leave. But, I did.

~~~~

"Congratulations, Mr. Worf. You did an excellent job. That goes for your brother too."

"Thank you sir."

Sisko and the others filed out of the ward room, leaving only Worf and myself. Worf and Kurn had just been on an undercover mission. They infiltrated a Klingon ship and retrieved some much needed data for the Federation. But I could look at him and tell, something was wrong.

I sat forward at the table and folded my hands. Worf stood over the table and I spoke to him, "You don't seem very pleased."

He sighed, "I am still troubled by the death of that Klingon officer."

"Your report said it was self defense "

"That is not the point," he began to pace, "I should have seen what he was going to do."

"What do you mean? From the way you described it, he was standing so close o you, you couldn't have seen the knife in his hand."

Worf shook his head, "He decided to kill me while I was looking him right in the eye and I never saw it. But Kurn did, and he was three meter away."

"Worf," I began, "I don't think you can tell someone's going to kill you by looking at them."

"A Klingon can. It is an instinct. The ability to look someone in the eyes and see the decision to kill... an instinct I no longer have," he paused, "Kurn was right. I have lived with Humans so long I no longer think like a Klingon. For a long time I have tried to walk the line between the Empire and the Federation. I told myself I could live in either world, that it was my choice. The truth is, I cannot go back to the Empire."

"Do you want to go back?" I asked quietly.

Worf sat across from me, "I always hoped that one day the House of Mogh would reclaim its rightful place and that I would return. But now I know that even if I did, I have no place there," he reached down, and took his comm badge off. He studied the small insignia for a moment, "This is all I have."

"Is that enough?"

"It will have to be. But my brother does not even have this. For him there is no future without the Empire, no life."

"Sounds like you're thinking of carrying out the Mok'tovaH ritual again "

"No. I was able to do it once by telling myself it was an honorable Klingon ritual. But now, I cannot help but think of it as Humans do, as murder."

"What if there was a way for you to kill your brother, without killing him?"

~~~~

I'd suggested to Worf that he wipe Kurn's memory and give him a new life. At first, he was reluctant, but eventually, he agreed. That night, Kurn was taken to Dr. Bashir and given a new identity. Right then, I admired Worf more than ever. He walked out of the infirmary, alone in the universe, yet he still walked with his head high. No, Worf was not alone, not as long as I was around. I decided to stop by Quark's, and guess who I saw there.

WORF

It was all over. Dax suggested to me that I have my brother's memory wiped and give a new identity. It was done, and Kurn had gone to live with a man named Noggra, he would be his new father. Kurn no longer had to bear the shame of being my brother.

For some reason, I felt that going to Quark's would make me feel better. I sat at a table on the upper level, detached from the noisy hub of the rest of the bar. In my hand was a mug of hot raktajino, and my heart was heavy.

"Mind a little company?"

I knew who it was without looking up. Had any other person wanted to join me right then, I would have turned them down cold. But it was Dax, and I nodded in response.

"I thought you might want to join me in the holosuite, you know, work off some of the tension."

"Trust me, you do *not* want to fight me right now."

"Okay," she was silent, which is unlike her. I looked up, and my eyes met hers. She looked so burdened, as if she'd just lost *her* brother, "Why..." I paused, trying to find the right words, "Why do you worry so much about me?" I asked gently.

Dax blushed, "You're my friend. And," she smile brightly, "You're kinda' cute."

She was doing it, again, "I fail to understand why you insist on teasing me."

"I like to see you blush," she responded.

My face became hot, and I was indeed blushing.

Dax chuckled, and rose from her chair, "I'll see you later, Mr. Worf," She patted my shoulder, and left. I watched her descend the flight of stairs and leave the bar. I took deep breaths repeatedly, and forced myself to push away what I was feeling. There is no way, Worf, that a woman as amazing as Jadzia Dax would ever want to have something serious with you. I kept telling myself that, until I began to believe it.

~finis