The BLTS Archive - Poison
by Blossom Morphine (blossommorphine@hotmail.com)

---

Disclaimer: No, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine is not mine. It was created
by Gene Roddenberry. This is for mine and a select few others
amusement, I didn't make a penny, I don't even have a penny, so there
isn't any use suing.

Author's Note: I got this from slytherin_gypsy's 50 sentence prompts.
I thought it would be a good place to start. Tell me what you think.

--

He tastes the poison the moment he sips the tea, but the fact that
he's absolutely certain that it was his lover that put it there makes
him finish the cup and let it do its job. It's not easy, with the lump
in his throat, but he manages.

"My dear, is there something the matter? Surely you're not discouraged
by a little competition." He is casual, leaning back in the copilot's
chair, holding his own cup of tea.

Julian smiles, the one he uses when he's comforting his patients just
before they slip away. "No, Garak, I'm fine. I've never been bothered
with competition. And anyways, why does it have to be a competition.
Why not a cooperation? We've always worked well together." He looks
down at the panel's readings; it gives him something to look at other
than him.

"Yes, I suppose you're right. But our respective government won't see
it that way, I'm afraid. Even if the Dominion War has long been over,
there is still a great deal of hostility and distrust."

Julian looks up into those eyes, friendly but appraising, and says,
"But not between us."

Garak places a hand over his. "No, not between us." It is said
solemnly, no more the teasing mentor or the affectionately possessive
lover.

Then it is over and he is drinking his tea, going over the notes on
his PADD.

There is now a tingling in his limbs, an almost cold prickle. It
reminds Julian of when he is sitting cross legged for a long period of
time and the circulation is cut off.

There is nothing to do but to carry on.

"Computer, what is our estimated time of arrival?"

The feminine voice replies, "0300 hours." Two more hours. Not nearly
enough time. Damn him.

"How far do you think they have come along?" Julian asks. "According
to this, the Fanhee only started working on transwarp technology about
a few months before the Dominion pulled out and left them to their own
devices. They might not even still be working on it."

"According our own intelligence reports, they have and are only a few
months from testing the prototype. It's incredible they could
accomplish this; they're a second tier power that only the Dominion
would have been interested in. With this, they could become a major
player."

"Well, not when we're done."

A look of curious amusement crosses over Garak's face. "I remember a
time when you would have been bleating on about the Prime Directive
and not resorting to underhanded tactics like sabotage."

Julian sighs and leans back in the pilot's chair. "Yes, well, a lot of
things changed. The Romulans are breathing down our necks, the
Klingons are back on the war path, and they've both vastly improved
their cloaking capabilities. We need every advantage we can get." He
closes his eyes, he can feel the prickling turn into a numbness that
has spread to his chest.

Soon.

"Hmm, but still. I can imagine the things that you have done all in
the service of the Federation. Section 31 didn't exactly start you off
on soft missions, did they?"

He can hear the inquiring tone, short of insistent but open. Julian
has never really told him what those missions were and Garak has never
asked. It is enough to know they had each other, to hold and trust, to
love and care for.

It had been enough.

"No, they didn't. But the universe isn't a soft place. You have to
make compromises and sacrifices to get what you want and sometimes
that's not enough and you only get shot for the effort." He couldn't
keep the bitterness out of his voice, the sense of betrayal of
everything he had held dear. It didn't help that, once, he had
fantasized about doing this.

"To think that you once fantasized about this. The fantasy is often
much more satisfying than the reality, you're in control of every
little detail and if something goes wrong you can start over. In
reality, you suffer more than a phaser stun."

It's heavy in the cockpit, and it's not just the poison. There is a
taste of misery and old wounds being reopened. Garak is looking into
his now empty tea cup, as if looking for advice, like a diviner from
ancient Earth history.


Julian cannot be allowed the luxury that his lover felt some regret
for what's been done. He can't afford to remember the times they had
stayed inside the small shack they shared together during the winters
and had made love at a leisurely pace. Nor when they would read each
other novels and compare notes. The time Garak had presented him with
a bottle of absinthe; standing still while his clothes were adjusted;
brushing that dark, silk hair. No. He can only hold on for a little
while longer.

The numbness has spread to his entire body and he yawns.

"Do you mind if I take a nap? I'm feeling a little sluggish. Chamomile
always does that to me."

The man he loves smiles at him, understanding, a little of the mentor
coming back. "Of course, my dear. Take as much time as you need. I'll
be right here when you wake up."

That familiar, sardonic smile is the last thing Julian sees before he
closes his eyes.

---

It has been ten minutes since Julian has stopped breathing. Garak
presses a finger to a vein in his neck. There is no heartbeat.

He is hollowed out and can barely breathe. Julian looked so peaceful,
as if he really were taking a nap and would wake any moment, asking
him what's wrong.

Would he understand? He was the kindest, most compassionate person
Garak had ever known, taking in the rumors and facts of his life
before the station in stride. Julian was a understanding, forgiving
individual, but could he ever understand, much less forgive this?

Sacrifice. That's what this was. A sacrifice he had never hoped to
make. His old duties had been over and he could live with the hope of
a peaceful future, with the man he loved. But then the democratic
government had fallen short of their promises, people were starving in
the streets, and illnesses that had not been feared for a millennia
became plagues. Before long, laws became more strict, the government
and military given more powers, and people were demanding all aliens
to be sent away. It was happening all over again.

Then reports came in about transwarp technology, to go faster than
warp 9. It was a dream, an answer to many of the problems his world
faced. Cardassia could become a power again!

He had not anticipated Julian receiving similar reports, or that
Section 31 would send him to the Fanhee outpost that were rumored to
be housing the prototype. He could not allow for the Federation to
have it. Sacrifices had to be made.

So he volunteered to make tea.

Garak leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Julian's cheek. "You were
so beautiful, so brilliant."

"Thank you."

What?

Garak tried to say that aloud, but his throat has constricted.

Julian raised his head and smiled wanly. "Hmm, good morning lover."

Again, he tried to speak, but now he couldn't even move. A voice in
the back of his head began to chant, "He was always your best
student."

"Before we boarded, I reprogrammed the computer to put in Ximilano in
your whatever you were having if for any reason it detected any other
type of poisonous substances in any of the food you called up."

Julian's eyes are now his entire world, golden brown irises that spoke
of distrust and hostility.

"We could have worked together. There was no need for this!" He must
have seen the question in his eyes, because he then said, "I'm
genetically engineered. I have a much better immune system and greater
control over my autonomic system, not to mention better senses, like
taste. It was horrifyingly simple."

Garak could have laughed, if only he could. His understanding,
forgiving Julian was neither so understanding or forgiving. He had
helped in that.

That familiar, sad smile is the last thing Garak sees before he closes
his eyes.

---

The End