I'm Just a Part of You

Under Suspicion

Perhaps ten minutes later, Bashir returned, pushing what looked like one of Quark's serving trollies. It bore a duvet, two pillows and a small viewer.

"Julian..." she chided, without really thinking. "You shouldn't..."

"Ezri, I know you're not Jadzia. You're your own person. At least let me make you more comfortable in there."

"He's sweet on you." Joran commented, standing between them. "I suppose he isn't entirely unattractive, by human standards, but he isn't special. I don't know what you see in him either."

In response, Ezri pulled a shoe off her feet, and threw it through the smirking projection, where it crackled off the security field on an almost direct trajectory towards Bashir's head. "I DON'T WANT YOU HERE! JUST STOP BOTHERING ME!" She shouted.

Bashir took several steps back from the cell.

"If that's how you feel, Lieutenant Dax, that's up to you." He said, stiffly and formally. "I won't push any comforts on you that you obviously don't care about." He turned, leaving the trolley loaded with comforts, which she now saw also included a small stand for the viewer.

"JULIAN!" She shouted. "I WASN'T AIMING AT YOU!"

And then she curled up, and finally let all of the tears flow out. It was surprisingly cathartic, even for a trained counsellor. She'd liked Hector Ilario, even if he had been... she blushed slightly at the thoughts. She'd been tempted. The parts of her that were Jadzia and Curzon had positively encouraged her to enjoy herself. And then her mind dragged out the picture of him lying on the floor, cold and dead, with a hole in his chest. It beat her with the thoughts of what might have happened if she'd stayed with him that night. She might have saved him. They might have gone to her quarters instead. She also saw another image, of her own body... half-clothed, with him lying across her, having tried to shield her in their last moments

She just wished she had access to that freshly replicated, soft, warm duvet to curl up in, and block out the world with.

"I hate you." She shot at Joran. "I hate what you make me do!"

"Make you do, dear Ezri?" Joran commented. "I didn't make you throw a boot at me. I'm just a part of you. A memory. You've made every single decision on your own."

Glaring at the mirror, she began trying to put Joran back in his 'box' again. "I'nora, ja'kala vok..." She recited, before the doors slid open, and she looked through them to see Sisko, this time in uniform, looking through them at her.

"I thought you had things under control, Old Man." He said, using his special 'I am disappointed' voice that he seemed to have developed for use on Jadzia. The memory actually made her smile.

"Julian... tell him I'm sorry. Joran..."

To her surprise, Sisko actually opened the forcefield keeping her in the cell, and pushed the trolley in, before helping her unload. It didn't take long. He also handed her another small device that she recognised as an old-style communicator. The case appeared to be slightly reinforced and padded, as if it was designed for a psychiatric hospital.

"If you need anything, this will get you Odo or me." He explained. "We're not going to act as your butlers, but we want to make this as easy as possible for everyone." He paused and lowered his voice. "We know you took Ilario back to his quarters. Did anything... happen?" He asked, slowly. "Did he... try to make something happen?"

Ezri shook her head. "I... thought about staying the night, Ben. I really did. But I didn't. And nothing happened." She was surprised by how much her voice was shaking as she spoke. "I didn't kill anyone, Ben. You don't need to make excuses for me."