Author's Note: Based on a plot bunny that I couldn't shake.
Alternate canon in which Tasha Yar lives. Otherwise, pretty much sticks to canon. I changed the end of Picard's speech by a few words.
It's really a shame there aren't more Worf/Tasha stories. I generally bounce between writing them as BFFs or shipping them together.
This first chapter is predominantly told from Worf's perspective but please don't be too harsh on him. In the next chapter, we'll explore Tasha's feelings a little more. It will become clear that their dancing around each other isn't just one-sided.
Thank you so much for reading.
-X-
"Duty. A starship captain's life is filled with solemn duty. I have commanded men in battle. I have negotiated peace treaties between implacable enemies. I have represented the Federation in first contact with twenty-seven alien species, but none of this compares to my solemn duty today as best man," Captain Picard said.
Worf scanned along the row of officers and locked eyes with her.
They briefly held one another's gaze.
She gave a small, curt nod before turning her attention back to the Captain's speech.
"Have you two considered what you are doing to me?" Picard demanded.
Polite laughter erupted from the room as Captain Picard put a hand on Riker's shoulder.
"Of course, you're happy, but what about my needs? This is all a damned inconvenience," Picard went on, feigning outrage.
From across the table, Worf watched as she laughed.
Openly.
Amused.
Entirely uninhibited.
Serving on the Federation flagship, they had all seen their fair share of trauma.
It was the rare moments like this where they could let themselves go.
Moments like last night where Worf had let himself go.
And the result had been to hurt her on a day that was supposed to be a joyous occasion.
Yet, true to form, she would never let it show.
"While you're happily settling in on the Titan, I will be training in my new First Officer." Picard turned back to the crowd. "You all know him. He's a tyrannical martinet who'll never, ever allow me to go on away missions!"
"That is the regulation, sir. Starfleet Code. Section twelve. Paragraph four—" Data began to say.
Will and Deanna shared a knowing look.
Worf tried to catch Commander Data's eye.
Across the table, Tasha bit back a smile.
She knew better than the rest of them just how serious Data took his responsibilities.
"Data." Picard said.
"Sir?" Data inquired politely.
"Shut up." Picard grinned.
Data was not bothered. The context was now clear to him, and he was pleased to have been included as part of the joke.
Laughter erupted throughout the room.
It seemed even the Captain was looser today because he leaned into the moment.
"Fifteen years I've been waiting to say that!" Picard shouted above the crowd.
At this point, everyone was rolling with laughter.
In spite of his wicked hangover, Worf found himself giving way to a rare Klingon belly laugh.
"No, seriously!" Picard insisted. "Will, Deanna, there's still time to reconsider. Yes?"
The Captain looked at them expectantly.
Will and Deanna turned to one another and shared a knowing smile. The newlyweds answered simultaneously.
"No."
Captain Picard sighed.
"Very well then. Will Riker, you have been my trusted right arm for fifteen years. You have kept my course true and steady," Captain Picard said warmly.
He turned to Deanna and gave her a genuine smile.
"Deanna Troi, you've always been my guide, my conscience," Picard continued. "You have helped me recognise the better parts of myself."
Jean-Luc raised his glass as he scanned the line of officers that had served as his senior crew for fifteen years. Picard beamed.
"I cannot think of a finer crew. And in the best maritime tradition, I wish you clear horizons."
Once again, Worf glanced in her direction.
"My good friends. You are my family," Picard announced. "Make it so."
"Aye, sir," the crew and guests responded.
They locked eyes and held one another's gaze as they toasted the newlyweds.
-X-
With the speeches concluded, the band began to play. Once more, the dancing resumed. Guests began to filter out throughout the venue and the table started to clear.
Before Worf could approach Tasha, Wesley Crusher asked if she'd join him for a dance.
Worf watched as Tasha slipped onto the floor to join the young man that they'd all come to regard as their little brother.
"You need something for that hangover," Geordi said as he gripped Worf's shoulder.
Worf couldn't dispute that.
He allowed Geordi to steer him over the bar in the back where they joined Guinan.
From the moment she saw Worf, Guinan's face broke out into a broad smile.
"Geordi, why don't you fetch Worf an Aenar Elixir," Guinan suggested. "It will help with the hangover."
Geordi nodded and headed for the bar.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Guinan leaned in close.
"It was worth it," Guinan said strangely.
There was something in the tone of her voice that indicated a sense of knowing.
Worf cocked his head to the side as he looked at her with concern.
Had she told Guinan?
Worf had always wondered how deep Guinan's abilities ran.
"No, she didn't tell me. And no, I can't read your mind," Guinan assured him.
The enigmatic El-Aurian could see Worf was disturbed.
More than that, she could sense he was feeling uncertainty and regret.
"I read people, Worf," Guinan reminded him.
Worf turned around and glanced back to the dancefloor.
Tasha had picked up the youngest of the O'Brien clan and was more than happy to give Keiko and Miles and break for a while as she entertained wee Yoshi.
"If what I think happened did indeed happen, it wasn't a mistake," Guinan remarked. "And you should clear that up before it's too late."
Not a moment too soon, Geordi returned.
Worf breathed a sigh of relief.
The conversation was now far too intimate for his taste.
"Do you ever think about getting married again?" Geordi asked as he slipped into a chair between the Klingon and the barkeep.
"No," Guinan smiled. "Twenty-three was my limit."
Geordi nearly choked on his drink.
The Chief Engineer took a swig of his own synthesised pint and turned to his Klingon crewman.
"What about you Worf?" Geordi inquired.
It had been nearly six years since Jadzia's death.
After leaving Deep Space 9, Worf had been pleased to return back to the Enterprise. In a way, it had felt like coming home. And after the loss of Jadzia, Worf had needed his found family.
Including her.
"Romulan ale should be illegal," Worf grumbled in response.
"It is," Geordi countered.
Worf promptly got up from the table.
"Excuse me, I need some air."
-X-
"That was a lovely toast," Deanna said.
"It was from the heart," Captain Picard replied.
He meant every word.
Will and Deanna leaving would be a great loss to the Enterprise and they could all feel it.
"I'm going to brief your new counsellor on everything she needs to know," Deanna assured him.
Captain Picard looked scandalised.
"Like hell you are," he retorted. "You already know too much about me."
The crew members that were sitting around the table shared a laugh.
"I take it there will be no speeches during the ceremony on Betazed?" Picard pondered aloud.
"No," Will replied with a wicked smile. "No speeches and no clothes."
Out of the corner of his eye, Captain Picard spied an unwelcome intruder.
"Beverly?" Picard asked suddenly. "Would you care to dance?"
Commander Riker caught sight of Lwaxana Troi meandering over to the table and had a feeling the Captain was doing his best to avoid her.
"I'll be back," Will said as he placed a quick kiss on his wife's cheek.
He excused himself and made his way over to the elder Troi.
Offering her an arm, Will guided her out to the dancefloor leaving Deanna alone at the table with Tasha.
For a moment they sat in silence as Tasha held wee Yoshi O'Brien on her lap.
"Something happened last night," Deanna commented. "You met someone here."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Tasha responded with practised nonchalance.
"I'm an empath, Tasha," Deanna said out of the corner of her mouth as she grinned and waved to a couple of guests that passed by.
Tasha turned to Deanna and maintained a straight face.
"I really don't know what you're talking about," Tasha repeated.
The Betazoid turned and gave her a sour look.
"Tasha."
"I swear Deanna," Tasha shrugged. "I didn't meet anyone here."
From across the room, she spied Worf at the table with Guinan and Geordi.
"Wave hi," Tasha said as she took Yoshi's arm and guided him to wave at them.
Deanna followed her eyeline and realised that Tasha had not, in fact, lied.
Tasha hadn't met anyone at the wedding.
"It's never too late, you know," Deanna told her. "It took Will and I eleven years to get back together and another four to get married."
There was a pregnant pause.
Tasha wasn't sure how to respond.
Despite being her best friend and the ship's counsellor, Tasha didn't feel it was right to spill her emotional weight at Deanna's wedding. Tasha had always kept her personal relationships closely guarded.
That said, Deanna had sensed—years earlier—that there was something more between the guarded Security Chief and the stoic Klingon.
Deanna had watched how things had seemed to develop between the pair, only to abruptly end after Tasha's injury on Vagra II.
Thinking back, Deanna recalled how there had been a distinct change in Tasha. Prior to the injury, Tasha had transitioned to being more open. Overnight, it was as if she suddenly put all of her walls back up.
In a way, the same could be said for Worf.
Following Tasha's injury, Worf had largely retreated into himself. For a time, he'd stopped attending poker games and Will's brunches.
There was a distance between them.
Deanna remembered a thaw that followed after the loss of K'Ehleyr. For a time, it seemed Worf and Tasha had found a comfortable level of intimacy.
But as quickly as it had come, it disappeared again.
Things had changed once more after Worf's parents were no longer able to care for Alexander. Tasha had been an integral part of helping with Alexander during the early days of Worf's fatherhood—helping the boy adjust to life on the Enterprise and serving as a negotiator between the two until they better understood one another.
At Worf's insistence, Tasha had become Alexander's guardian in the event of Worf's death.
When Worf had left for Deep Space 9, Tasha had been publicly supportive of his desire to move into a new role. After all, he'd played second-fiddle to her in Security for years.
Tasha knew Worf's career had been stuck in the shadow of her own.
He was due to hold his own command or senior position.
Yet privately, Deanna sensed that Tasha was crushed. Although they had not shared a romantic relationship at the time, the two had a complicated—but working—relationship, a closeness thanks to Tasha's role as Alexander's surrogate maternal figure.
Tasha had put her own personal life on hold to be there for them and in the blink of an eye the non-traditional 'family' they built was gone. Tasha stayed in contact with Alexander while Worf had grown distant from them both.
When news of Worf's marriage to Jadzia Dax reached the Enterprise, Deanna was the only one to see how hard it had hit the Chief of Security.
Thinking back, Deanna recalled what Tasha had told her at the time.
"It's great. I'm glad he's happy," Tasha had said from the comfort of Deanna's sofa.
"Don't lie to me," Deanna implored.
"I just—" Tasha stopped as she tried to collect her thoughts. "If things had been different—"
Tasha shook her head.
"It never would have worked," Tasha concluded with a bitter smile.
"Tasha?" Deanna prompted.
They'd been sitting in silence since.
"I should, uh... I should get Yoshi something to eat," Tasha said quickly as she excused herself from the table.
-X-
"How about this one?" Tasha asked as she fed Yoshi a Betazoid uttaberry.
The littlest O'Brien's eyes lit up as he gnawed on the sweet fruit.
"I like them too," Tasha whispered.
She grinned at Yoshi as she fed him another one.
The wee boy leaned forward and rested his head on Tasha's shoulder with a tiny yawn.
"Are you getting sleepy? It was a big day for you," Tasha said as she rubbed his back.
She figured the toddler was probably overdue for a nap.
"Let's go check in with your parents," Tasha said.
She could snag a room key from Miles and Keiko and take Yoshi upstairs for bedtime. Tasha didn't mind in the slightest. In fact, it would be nice to get away from everyone for a while.
Tasha turned and ran smack into someone.
She didn't need to look up to know exactly whose torso she'd hit.
"Say 'hi Mr Worf,'" Tasha instructed Yoshi as she turned so he could look at the Klingon.
Worf was a familiar face from their time on Deep Space 9 and Yoshi instantly recognised the Klingon.
He smiled shyly before burying his head back against Tasha.
Worf froze. It was the first time they'd spoken to one another since that morning.
"You have a talent for handling children," Worf said stiffly.
As he watched her rock the littlest of the O'Brien clan to sleep, Worf couldn't help but reflect upon all the hours she'd been there during his own tumultuous early days as a father.
Alexander had been so little. He'd also been accustomed to his mother.
And after K'Ehleyr's passing, there were a difficult few weeks before they had reached the Rozhenko's home on Earth.
Tasha had been there every step of the way in helping with the then two-year-old Alexander. She was so patient and intuitive—with both the anxious toddler and the terrified new father.
Tasha and Worf had grown closer once again.
There hadn't been any overt romantic overtures between the two during that time. Rather, their relationship was something deeper—an understanding, a partnership.
At least it was until the first night without Alexander.
Worf had been feeling uneasy and Tasha had grown accustomed to being around. She'd stopped by his quarters to check on him, intending to reassure him that things were going to work out.
One thing had led to another, and she had wound up in his bed that night. Again. It wasn't the first time—but it was the first time since they'd ended their relationship two years earlier.
The next morning, Worf had regretted his actions.
Not because it was her.
Instead, Worf felt that he had taken advantage of the situation.
So, in his typical fashion, he'd pushed Tasha away. And when she'd questioned it, Worf shut down.
Now as he watched Tasha caring for the young O'Brien child, Worf was taken right back to those early days with his own son—the woman he'd loved, his baby in her arms, caring for the child of the woman he'd lost.
Not many people had the strength or compassion to handle those circumstances.
When Alexander had returned to the Enterprise two years later, Tasha had been right there once again. She'd kept in contact with the boy—more so than Worf—and Alexander was struggling with feelings of abandonment from his father.
A bond had quickly formed between the orphaned Turkanan and the young boy.
She'd taught him Aikido and baseball on the holodeck, helped with his classwork, and been more than eager to step in whenever Alexander and Worf had a disagreement.
Thinking back, Worf realised she'd spent more nights than most parenting his son.
Worf felt a pang of guilt as he recognised that Tasha had given up years of her own life for him.
It was no wonder she hadn't had much of a social life—not when she'd been caring for Worf and his son with nearly all of her free time.
Tasha had been patient with Worf.
She understood that Worf struggled to form intimate bonds with others, that he needed time.
For years he kept her dangling.
On the nights he possessed the strength to open up, he'd gone to her—showing up at her door with passion in his eyes, soft words, and a need for her.
And on the days where it was all too much and his anxiety overwhelmed him, he'd kept his distance—isolating himself in his quarters in an attempt to pull himself away.
In truth, Worf had made the decision to move to Deep Space 9 after Alexander started to ask more questions about Worf's relationship with Tasha.
At the time, Worf felt like things were getting too close. Their nights together had become more frequent, and he'd gone so far as to allow himself the kind of intimate words and touches that were a step further than a platonic friendship.
Worf had needed to put some space between himself and Tasha. Worf had known he couldn't serve so close and continue to suppress his feelings.
In his mind, it was the only logical solution.
Worf knew that he couldn't lose her.
He had almost lost her once.
He'd lost K'Ehleyr.
And Jadzia.
He reasoned that as long as he kept Tasha at arm's length, then he wouldn't have to face the pain of ever going through that again.
However, Worf knew inside that he owed her an explanation.
Worf felt like a fool.
"Lieutenant Commander—" Worf started to say.
He stopped as Tasha glared at him.
She knew exactly what he was doing by using her rank rather than her name.
"Tasha," Worf said softly.
"He needs to be put to bed," Tasha deflected.
It was a weak excuse—but it was necessary one if she was going to keep her cool. Worf's stammering use of her rank was just too much of a sting to take after their fallout.
Tasha excused herself and started to head back to the main room of the reception hall. Worf followed after her.
"Please, about this morning—"
Tasha froze.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Drawing on her years of training in maintaining her poise, Tasha turned back to face him.
"It never happened," Tasha stated simply.
"Tasha—"
His tone was pleading.
But Tasha had made herself a promise that morning that she wasn't going to go through this again. She took a step back as she shook her head.
"We're co-workers, crewmates," Tasha said.
She could feel herself starting to grow warm.
"Just as we've always been," she finished bitterly before turning on her heel and walking away.
Worf felt helpless as he watched her leave. He buried his head in his hands and growled.
"Rough night last night?" Commander Riker said as he came up behind Worf.
Riker slapped Worf heartily on the back.
"Or good night and a rough morning?" Riker teased knowingly.
Did everyone know? Worf thought to himself with panic.
"That Romulan ale really sneaks up on you, eh?"
Worf breathed a sigh of relief as it became obvious that Riker didn't know what had occurred earlier that morning.
"Congratulations, sir. Excuse me," Worf said as he beat a quick path off the dance floor.
Worf made his way toward the balcony of the reception hall.
He was starting to feel ill—partially from the hangover, but mostly from his fallout with Tasha.
-X-
Once he was outside, Worf rested his hands along the top rail. He leaned over the balcony to take in the crisp, Alaska air. The reception hall was seated at the base of Mount Denali.
The air was cooler outside. Worf felt like he could breathe a little easier.
There was something cold and beautiful about this landscape that reminded Worf of his own childhood in Minsk. It was a picturesque setting for a wedding.
Yet in spite of the serene atmosphere, Worf felt uneasy.
He couldn't shake the sense of anxiety that had settled in the pit of his gut since that morning.
Things had felt so right.
Worf closed his eyes as he thought back to the night before.
-X-
The crew were all staying at a resort together.
They met late that evening for a more intimate party complete with poker, Guinan's reserve Romulan ale, and plenty of Riker's trombone.
It was just like their nights aboard the Enterprise—only this time there was no duty shift in the morning.
The alcohol was real. The mood was high.
Geordi treated everyone to his best impersonation of Admiral Hotchkins—only for Data to utilise his audio output programming to replicate the Admiral's voice exactly.
It earned the android a fair amount of ribbing from the other crew members until Captain Picard put them all to shame with his own hilarious rendition of the Admiral's speech at their last rendezvous.
Worf felt great.
It had been ages since he'd last permitted himself to relax like that.
The Romulan ale certainly helped.
Commander Riker challenged Worf to a friendly drinking game with Miles O'Brien and it didn't long for the Klingon to fall behind the well-conditioned Chief.
Shortly thereafter, the trombone came out. Beverly started dancing and Worf, feeling uncharacteristically spontaneous, offered to show her the Klingon R'yecktek dance.
He stumbled into Data. Then Guinan suggested that it might be best if Worf call it a night.
Stubborn to the end, Worf refused—insisting he was fine.
-X-
Worf stayed until the bitter end. It was nearly 04:00 hours before the party died down. The Captain and O'Brien's had long since called it a night, Beverly had left to nurse her sore feet, Deanna had fallen asleep in a chair, and Geordi had already gone to bed.
That left Data, Guinan, Tasha, Commander Riker, and Worf.
The music shifted from lively jazz to the slower, more romantic kind of soft jazz that signalled the end of an evening.
As the smooth voice of Billie Holiday crooned softly in the background, Worf felt truly at ease.
Guinan suggested that perhaps someone should see Worf made it home alright.
Worf locked his gaze on Tasha. She was seated across from him. Their wordless exchange did not go unnoticed by Guinan's keen senses.
Tasha's eyes were slightly glazed, and she smirked at Worf with a look he'd seen before.
"Tasha, isn't your room near Worf's?" Guinan asked. "Maybe you should make sure he reaches his own room in one piece?"
Worf didn't know it at the time, but Tasha knew herself well enough to understand that she couldn't walk Worf home alone without it leading to something.
"Sure," she replied in the same soft tenor that Worf had long ago learned to associate with comfort.
Worf's heart skipped a beat.
"Could you help me, Data?"
Tasha's request felt like a punch to the gut.
Data's company would ensure they wouldn't get a moment alone. It was a safety net—and they both knew it.
With Data's assistance, Tasha helped steer Worf out of Commander Riker's rooms.
They guided him down the corridor and to the lift.
Once inside, Tasha noticed Worf wasn't wearing his combadge. He would need it in the morning, and she didn't want to disturb Will and Deanna tomorrow.
She asked about it only for Worf to growl in response.
"Pocket," he'd replied vaguely.
With a roll of her eyes, Tasha reached into his left pocket and fished around for the small communicator device.
Worf's fingers closed around Tasha's wrist as she found his combadge.
He glanced down at her. Tasha quickly averted her eyes, turning her gaze toward the door of the lift to avoid eye contact.
Worf let go of her wrist but wasn't about to give up.
Worf leaned heavily on Commander Data for most of the trip. But as the three made their way down the corridor, Worf shifted the bulk of his weight onto Tasha.
His grip around her waist tightened as he tried to wordlessly convey his intentions.
When they had reached the door to his quarters, Data was concerned.
"Are you alright, Worf? Would you like assistance to get into your room?" Data had inquired politely.
Worf shook his head.
"Thank you, Commander," Worf said.
Worf turned his attention to Tasha, urging her to send Data off.
"I'm just across the corridor, Data," Tasha replied without breaking eye contact. "I'll make sure he's alright."
Data replied with a tight nod before leaving for his own room.
"Hmm. Goodnight."
The two found themselves alone in the corridor.
For a moment, neither said anything as they stared at one another.
They were physically closer than they had been in ages. Tasha couldn't help but feel shy under Worf's gaze.
The way he was staring at her was sufficient enough to weaken Tasha's resolve—just as he had on more than one occasion.
They'd been down this road before. Tasha just knew that she would feel the ache of regret the next day.
Rather, she knew he would regret it in the morning and that once again, Worf would pull away just as he had during each of their previous liaisons.
Tasha had to put some distance between them.
"Goodnight," Tasha said quickly.
She took a shaky breath, intent to retreat to the safety of her room, but found herself unable to step back.
Worf reached out and tenderly traced the line of Tasha's jaw, cupping her face as he leaned down to kiss her.
To his disappointment, she pulled away.
"Don't," she whispered.
Tasha dropped her line of sight to the floor.
"I... I can't keep doing this," Tasha confessed. "You'll just regret it in the morning. You'll just regret me in the morning."
She moved to step back, but Worf gripped her hand to stop her.
"Tasha," he murmured as he pulled her close. "I have never regretted you."
It was the truth.
In all their time together, Worf had never once felt ashamed of being with her.
No, Worf's cold behaviour had stemmed from a fear of losing her, from his own commitment issues, and his own cowardice about letting her into his heart.
It was over from the moment Worf captured her lips.
In that moment, the seven years that had passed since their last encounter seemed like nothing—the taste of him was no different, the sensation of his lips welcome.
Tasha felt small and safe at the familiar sensation of Worf's hands on her thighs. He picked her up with ease.
The door to Worf's rooms slid open and he carried her inside without delay.
As her back hit the wall, Tasha told herself that she could give it one more chance.
She could allow herself this one indulgence.
And in the morning, if he awoke with regret, then it would be the last time.
One final time. She thought cynically as Worf's hands found the zipper on her casual jumpsuit. Best not to get your hopes up.
But there was something about it that felt different.
It wasn't just the passage of time between the last time he'd held her like this—no, the words were softer, his touch hungrier.
Or maybe not. Tasha though, reconsidering her promise as Worf nuzzled against her bare shoulder.
-X-
When they awoke the next morning, Worf pulled her close. He snuggled against Tasha's back as he savoured the feel of her body next to his.
Tasha grinned.
"Hey," she said in a hazy voice.
Worf didn't respond.
His head was throbbing (as it often did following a night of Romulan ale).
Hangover aside, Worf wanted nothing more than to lie there with her.
Tasha took his silence as the first sign that Worf was experiencing the typical morning-after regret that had become a tradition of their relationship.
"I apologise for last night," Worf said. "I did not mean to take advantage of the situation."
Tasha's body stiffened at his words. Her heart sank.
An annoying voice in the back of Tasha's mind screamed.
You knew this would happen.
"Don't think twice," Tasha replied in a professional manner.
Worf had protested as she got out of bed. Tasha ignored his attempt to pull her back, slipping out from underneath the covers and digging around for her clothes.
"Tasha—"
"It never happened," Tasha remarked coolly.
Worf rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.
He knew he'd blown it, but he didn't have the strength to get out of bed.
-X-
Present
"Mr Worf?" Captain Picard asked as he approached Worf on the balcony.
The sound of the music and laughter from inside the reception hall drifted out onto the balcony and left Worf feeling more isolated than ever before.
The Klingon's absence had not gone unnoticed, and Captain Picard suspected there was something more than a hangover at the root of it.
Although the Captain had never met Worf's late wife, Jean-Luc had heard a great deal about Jadzia Dax and just what a remarkable person she was.
Despite never being married, Captain Picard could understand how difficult a day like today could be for someone who had lost his wife so early into their marriage.
"Are you alright?" Picard asked, concerned.
A pregnant pause followed.
The Captain had always found it difficult to talk one-on-one with Worf when it came to emotional or personal matters.
Jean-Luc was about to leave it at that and advise Worf he'd be there for him later if needed, when Worf finally worked up the nerve to voice his concerns.
"Have you ever made a mistake, Captain? A mistake that you regret more than anything?"
The Captain eyed Worf curiously.
He'd certainly not been expecting that response to his question.
"Worf?"
Worf heaved a deep sigh.
"Sir, if I may ask a personal question?" Worf inquired hesitantly.
"Of course."
"Have you ever failed to tell someone how much they mean to you?" Worf questioned. "Do you think there's ever any going back?"
It was obvious that Worf was deeply troubled by this matter.
Jean-Luc contemplated Worf's statement for a moment as he bounced back and forth on his heels. He could only surmise Worf was speaking of Jadzia Dax.
"I am sure she knew how deeply you cared," Picard said, hoping to offer comfort.
Instead, this only seemed to distress Worf further.
"I fear it is now too late," Worf remarked.