Dax paced.

"Ezri, sit down and relax," Kira suggested. "The Nightingale's only forty-five minutes late."

"Forty-five minutes...." She shivered. "I don't know if I want it to keep being late, or just arrive and get it over with."

"No reports on Kukalaka?"

Dax shook her head dispiritedly. "Nothing. We can't contact the Klingons, or Quark's friend. The plasma disruption is too great." She dropped into the chair opposite Kira. "Not that it matters. It's too late. Julian's almost here, and I'll have to tell him."

"Why tell him?"

"What?" Ezri stared. "How could I not tell him?"

"Well, eventually, of course -- but why should that be the first thing he hears when he gets home? He'll be more eager to see you than any inanimate object, no matter what the sentimental value, believe me. So let him relax. Let him see how much we've missed him and how glad we are that he's back. Let him enjoy his party!"

"Colonel?"

Kira jabbed at her combadge. "Yes, Kuhlman?"

"The Nightingale has arrived and will be docking in five minutes at docking port two."

Ezri swallowed hard, and looked at Kira.

"Let's go," the colonel replied quietly. "Unless you'd rather Julian thought you didn't want to see him."

"Of course not!"

"Explain about the bear later. For now, you need to welcome him home. I'll see you both at Quark's."

Eight seconds in the turbolift seemed to last forever, and then too abruptly she was at the docking port, where the docking clamps had just ensnared the Nightingale. Dax waited the minutes until the ship began to disembark personnel.

Bashir was one of the first. Stepping onto the station, he paused, looking around thoughtfully.

"Julian...?" Ezri couldn't help the way her voice raised questioningly, then faded. She had to look twice to make sure it was indeed Julian Bashir.

He looked tired, somehow. The human doctor had always been slender, but now there was an edge, almost a gauntness to his features. His hair was longer, wavy and a little wild, seeming unkempt-looking and unusual for him. His complexion was more weathered. His warm brown eyes seemed shadowed with green, a sure sign of weariness, in her experience, and there were new creases around them, lines of long-term fatigue. His mouth was rimmed by a dark goatee, and she found herself irresistibly reminded of Benjamin. That thought brought a smile.

"Julian," she repeated.

Bashir caught sight of her. "Ezri."

They studied each other for a few moments, then he dropped his duffel. At the same second, she moved forward. Then he was hugging her so tightly it took her breath away and she thought her ribs were going to crack.

"Welcome home," she managed to say.

"Home...." Bashir went still. "Yes, it is."

Dax looked up at him, surprised at his wondering tone.

Several of the Nightingale's crew jostled past them. His arm still around her shoulders, Bashir picked up and shouldered his duffel again, and led the way from the docking port. They walked in silence for several minutes. Dax found it unnerving.

"So how was the trip?" she finally asked.

"The mission, or the voyage back?" he countered quietly.

"Either one."

"Long. Exhausting. You never accomplish as much as you think you should," he admitted thoughtfully. "But you do what you can, and then you let others take up the torch."

That seemed all Bashir intended to say, at the moment.

"I thought you'd have had time to rest, on the trip back from Cardassia. Or was New France more of an emergency that Captain Westfall let on?"

The doctor shook his head. "No, I had plenty of time to sleep. There was no emergency -- we just wanted to connect with some of the relief ships heading for the colonies along the demilitarized zone."

"Oh?" she said brightly, hoping Julian would keep talking.

"Jake's work," he said more warmly. "He's accomplished a lot. Have you been following his reports?"

"His updates on the reconstruction of Cardassia have been riveting -- we couldn't keep people away from the viewscreens when the Federation news channel was transmitting his stories."

"He's made more of a difference than he knows."

"So have you, from what I've heard," Dax assured him.

"That's what people tell me."

"They're not lying." She felt a shrug through his arm. After another quiet moment, she asked, "How about we drop off your duffel and then stop at Quark's, catch up on things?"

Bashir stopped moving abruptly. He looked at her suspiciously. "Quark's?"

"There's a few people waiting to welcome you back," she admitted.

"A few?"

"Well...."

"A party? That's more Jadzia's line, isn't it? But Ezri, really, I'd rather just-- "

"I'm sorry," she said apologetically. "I didn't think that you might be too tired to see a lot of people."

"I should really get to the infirmary and start catching up on things."

"But everyone's at Quark's and Vic's, waiting for the guest of honor -- and that's you." She turned her brightest, hopeful smile on him.

He hesitated for a moment more, then capitulated. "Since you've all gone to the trouble...."

"Hey, it's a party, not a court martial! You're supposed have a good time!"

"All right, I'll try to remember to smile."

"You'd better! Or I'll have to start calling you Jules again!"

A little teasing and a few welcoming kisses seemed to have improved Julian's spirits somewhat, but he still, to Ezri, seemed like he tolerating the knowledge of a waiting party, rather than looking forward to a good time catching up with friends on the station.

"I think, Julian," she announced as they walked back to Quark's, "that you need to play."

"What?"

"If I know you, you've spent the last five months working yourself to the bone, every minute you were awake, and probably every second dreaming, too."

"They needed it," Julian said simply.

"And you gave it to them," she replied promptly. "But now you've got to replenish yourself. Do you have any of your holoprograms that don't involve dying in a noble but hopeless cause?"

"Uh..."

"How abut that secret agent one?"

For a second his mouths curved in fond remembrance, then other memories crowded in and he shook his head. "Without Miles to play Falcon? I don't think I'm ready for that."

"That's all right," she said hastily. "I have a new program. I've tried it out with Nerys and Caryn, and it's a lot of fun. I'm going to prescribe several visits, in the very near future."

"Holoprogram therapy without counseling visits first? Is that ethical?" At least there was a glimmer of a smile on his face.

"Believe me, I've seen enough of you to know."

Crossing the Promenade, she saw Endar hovering at the entrance to Quark's, grinning like a fiend.

Before she could wave him to join them, he ducked inside.

"I see you've had some success while I was gone."

"Huh?"

He gestured toward Quark's. "I don't think I remember seeing Endar smile like that before I left."

Ezri almost hunched her shoulders. "I'm still working with him. It's ... going to take some time. But I'll fill you in on Endar and everything else around here, after the party. Let's go in."

As they walked inside, the room burst into spontaneous applause. The bar was full of people -- Federation and Bajoran and others, civilians and military both -- all grinning and focusing on Bashir, welcoming him back to the station. For a moment Julian just stood there, smiling, accepting their accolades and greetings. But with her arm around his back, Ezri could feel the stiffness in his spine. She sensed he wasn't really comfortable.

Then the crew and staff parted, giving Bashir and Dax a clear path to the bar -- and a clear view. Ezri caught her breath in surprise. Julian's jaw dropped.

Seated on a small wicker chair on the bar, was Kukalaka. The bear was dressed in a miniature black suit and tie, snugly tailored to resemble the suit Bashir wore for his old favorite 1960s Earth secret agent holoprogram. A tiny martini glass had been stitched into one of the bear's "hands" and a toy projectile weapon into the other.

Next to Kukalaka, another bear was propped against the chair -- obviously intended to be female, from the slinky red gown and tiara it wore. From the rows of spots down either side of its face and neck, it was equally obviously intended to be Ezri.

Bashir stared at the two bears for a long moment. Everyone held their breath.

And then he smiled. The gaze he turned on Ezri was thick with joy and gratitude.

Julian started laughing, and it was only seconds before the room joined him.

Kukalaka seemed to have miraculous abilities, for the change in Bashir -- almost as much as the alter ego in the holoprogram. With the costumed bear and its companion still in the place of honor on the bar, and a now sincerely relaxing Julian surrounded by his eagerly-welcoming medical staff, Ezri slipped away for a few moments. She spotted Alden heading toward Vic's, and hurried to catch him before he could vanish into the music echoing out of the open holosuite door.

"Endar, this is your doing, isn't it?"

"Well...."

"I don't know how you did it," she said fervently, "but I can't thank you enough!"

Alden looked embarrassed. "It was nothing, really."

She felt a flash of suspicion. "It really is Kukalaka, isn't it? Endar, you didn't just replace him, did you?"

"Nope, it's really Doc's bear."

"So how did you get him back?"

"With a little help." He fidgeted. "I, uh, kinda mentioned it to Morn -- and next thing I knew, he was gone -- and then they were both back. And Morn had this idea...."

"Morn! Of course! But why didn't you say something? You could have told me!"

"I ... wasn't sure ... he'd be able to do it, and get back in time."

"Endar," she rested a hand on his wrist, her eyes gleaming, "of course he could do it! His new ship's probably the fastest in the sector! I should have thought of Morn first!"

"He almost didn't make it. As a matter of fact, he got here about two minutes before you and Doc did."

"When did you have time to dress the bears?" she marveled.

"The costumes were Morn's idea. He said they were from one of Doc's holoprograms."

"They are! And they're perfect!" she assured Endar. "I'll be back in a minute!"

Still smiling in relief, Ezri darted away.

Morn was easily spotted, even in the crowd. He was sitting uncharacteristically aside, modestly letting Bashir be the center of attention.

The Trill moved in beside him, and threw her arms around his massive shoulders and thick neck. "Thank you, Morn!" She had to stand on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, once, and then twice more. "That's for Julian, and that's for Kukalaka, and that's for me!"

His wide mouth dropped, and shades of blue chased each other across his gray complexion.