http://daxtastic.livejournal.com/ (
daxtastic.livejournal.com) wrote in
hh_mirror2007-06-11 05:51 pm
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Entry tags:
Office Hours, Astronomy
Office Hours
Professor Jadzia Dax, Astronomy
MW 3-6 PM or by Appointment
Dax hung the sign outside of her office, then rearranged yet another pile of papers, determined to make the space more presentable. It was going about as well as one would expect.
She was wearing her uniform, for the first time in over two months. That morning, rooting through her closet, Dax had come to two realizations: First, that so much time had passed since wearing said uniform, and second, that she hadn’t noticed. No one could blame her, certainly. There were classes to plan, teas to host, and roommates to bother. She was settling into her new role as a professor, and that was perfectly understandable.
And somewhat terrifying. Still, she could mull over all of those things outside of work. She sat down, awaiting any students who would care to learn.
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"Today? Nothing much. Office hours, then a few modifications I want to implement on the wards surrounding my data pads. Now that the things are actually working, I want to be sure they stay that way. Of course, if we're speaking in a literal sense, I believe there's a flying lesson being held today." Avoidance? Perish the thought.
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And chose to ignore it.
"I believe I saw Tinky-Winky dancing in the halls earlier. Though in this era, that's called 'getting down', I believe."
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She smiled in a 'come on now, I'm not that easy' sort of way.
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"This was hanging in the back of my closet." She tugged on the uniform's collar. "Whenever I opened my closet, my uniform used to be the first item hanging up. Pure practicality - I wore it everyday. This morning, I found it shoved in the back, behind my winter coat. I only noticed it because I was rooting around for a pair boots."
She traced an outline over her combadge, which she'd never been able to get properly working again. "I've started introducing myself as Professor Jadzia Dax. Not Lt. Commander Dax. I've started thinking of myself as Professor Dax. I'm not sure how I feel about that."
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"But I don't know that I belong here either. Not that I have much choice in the matter. To borrow a cliché, I just don't know who I am anymore. I've never had to wonder about that before." Honestly, Dax had hoped to go through only one identity crises per lifetime.
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What? He did! ...Or was it her junk? Hm. Hard to keep track. She was a busy woman!
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"You are Jadzia Dax, and I wouldn't have you any other way. I don't need any identity crisies from you, so you? Should just keep on bein' you. See, that's not so hard, is it?"
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Oh, fine. If he wanted to hug his way out of it (was it her fault that most of his junk was trash?), she was hardly going to complain. Quite the opposite. Dax grinned, and leaned into the hug. Rested her chin on his shoulder, and took the opportunity to reach up and muss up the Doctor's hair
not that there was all that much hair to muss up!."All right. You can consider all identity crises null and void. And you know what I forgot? This bloody uniform itches like crazy."
'Bloody'? Oh, lord help her. She was going native.
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"One of my previous hosts wore polyester. 80 years after they finally stopped making it."
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