The BLTS Archive - A Slight Case of Blackmail
by Kathryn Ramage (kramage@erols.com)

---

Setting: Third season, not long after "Life Support."

Special Thanks: to Heather, for her beta-reading.

Paramount owns Star Trek, DS9, and the characters except those I have
created myself: Pridem Amat, Hirkus, and Renavik. This story was
written purely for entertainment purposes.

This story was originally published in the print zine, "No Holds
Barred," #24.

Copyright August 2001

---
|~prologue~|
---

Garak lay flat on his back on the living-room carpet, his human lover
astride him, riding him languidly. Bashir's head was thrown back. His
eyes were closed. His mouth moved soundlessly as he rocked, impaled,
in a slow, steady rhythm. Garak's hands remained on his lover's thighs
to help him keep his balance, thumbs occasionally stroking the taut,
tender flesh of the loins, but otherwise he did not touch him. He
didn't want Julian to reach his climax too soon; he meant to sustain
this moment for as long as possible.

When he'd been banished to the Cardassian-abandoned space station,
Garak had believed that his life was over. Exile was an extended death
sentence; he had only to sit here and wait out the countless hours,
one day after another, until he reached the inevitable end. Then, the
Federation had taken over the management of Terek Nor. Starfleet
personnel came to the station, including one very young doctor...

Garak hadn't realized it at the time, but his first sight of Julian
Bashir had been the beginning of new existence. With the doctor, he
found not merely the consolation of physical pleasure with an
attractive companion, but an emotional bond which would have been
impossible in his previous life.

Julian was rocking harder now. He whispered words, the same words,
over and over--*ohgodohgodohgod*--as preliminary shudders rippled
through his body. It was time. Garak slid one hand down from the heavy
muscles atop Julian's thigh to take the tip of his penis and rub in a
swift, circular motion. He tried to synchronize his caresses with his
lover's increasingly frantic movements.

He was unprepared when Julian screamed, "Oh god, yes!" and began to
buck wildly; Garak had to grab him by the waist to try to hold on. He
thrust upwards. There was a flurry of motion as they met and matched
each other, then one eternal, exquisite moment of joining. Garak cried
out as he reached his own peak.

And then Julian lay sprawled on top of him, breathing hard, forearms
braced on the tailor's chest and head resting on his own
loosely-curled fists.

"My love..." Garak murmured, perhaps too softly to be heard. As he
stroked the young man's back, he marveled again at the extraordinary
fate that had given him this beautiful creature to possess--or to be
possessed by. Yes, he did love Julian. He would do anything to keep
him.

Bashir lifted his head for a kiss. With a little wriggle, he
disengaged himself and rolled off to lie at Garak's side. Once he had
caught his breath, he sat up and reached for the drink he'd left on
the low, glass-topped table nearby; after a sip, he said, "Now, about
Tirat's poetry. I believe you called it insipid and self-indulgent..."

---

The first thing Commander Sisko noticed when he entered his office
that morning was the datarod lying on his desk. He knew he had
straightened up before leaving last night, and had not left it there.
Could one of his staff have brought it in? Unlikely. Cardassian
datarods were still commonly used in station operations, but if anyone
had wanted to leave a report for him, they would have submitted it on
a Federation-style chip or data- PADD. And, unless it had been one of
his senior officers, whoever had left the datarod here would have had
to breach the security code on the office door to get in.

There was only one way to find out what this was; Sisko picked up the
rod and slipped it into the slot beside the view screen on his desk.

A scene appeared: A darkened room, someone's personal quarters here on
DS9. The time code in the corner of the screen indicated that this
recording had been made 10 days ago, just after 2200. The door slid
open and the lights in the room came up as two people entered--Garak
and Dr. Bashir. They were in the middle of a literary argument:

"I'm not surprised that you prefer Tirat's love sonnets to the works
of more contemporary Cardassian poets, Doctor. He's considered to be
one of the most emotionally self-indulgent writers of the late
Empire."

"And that's precisely why I like him. No incomprehensible metaphors.
No politics. No boring lectures on the virtues of being a true
Cardassian. Just good, old-fashioned 'How do I love thee' poetry."

"It's insipid."

"It's romantic!"

The two were obviously enjoying themselves, but Sisko frowned,
somewhat puzzled and vaguely uncomfortable as he viewed this innocuous
private scene. What, he wondered, was he supposed to be seeing?

"What's wrong with a little romance?" the doctor asked as he flopped
down in one of the chairs.

Garak went to the replicator to order drinks. "Nothing at all. It's
simply a matter of keeping one's priorities in perspective. Oh, I
admit that Tirat's effusions might have been acceptable in his own
time, but we modern Cardassians demand more from our poetry than
extravagant expressions of the ordinary pleasures of courtship and
coupling. In fact, Tirat's works are sometimes thought to be a rather
subversive statement about the primacy of private life."

"You're not going to go on about how Cardassians always put their duty
to the state before personal feelings, are you?"

"Unwavering allegiance to the state _is_ one of those Cardassian
virtues that you find so tedious."

"But _you_ don't believe that, do you, Elim?"

"Of course I do," Garak answered promptly. "Although, I admit that
there can be...certain exceptions."

Bashir grinned. "I suspect that you're really an awful sentimentalist
at heart."

"There's no reason to be insulting."

"It's not an insult--it's the truth." As Garak handed him one of the
drinks, the doctor stretched up to kiss him so quickly, so casually,
that Sisko was shocked. Garak, however, did not seem surprised. "It's
why you gave me Tirat's sonnets in the first place. You can't fool me,
Elim."

"I wonder why I even try."

Sisko had no voyeuristic interest in his CMO's sex life, but he
understood that _this_ was what he was meant to see. He made himself
watch as Bashir, still smiling, set his drink down on the nearby
glass-topped table and half-rose from his chair before Garak captured
him in what looked like a violent embrace. He didn't look away as they
tumbled to the floor, wresting to strip each other of their clothing
between furious kisses. Bashir pinned the supine Cardassian to the
carpet and moved to sit astride him. Most of the action was thankfully
obscured, from his point of view, by the edge of the table, but Sisko
continued to watch, caught somewhere between fascination and
repulsion, until the doctor reached for his drink and playfully
resumed the conversation at the point where he had left off. Then the
screen went black as the video file ended.

Sisko took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. Garak and Dr.
Bashir... He recalled seeing them at Quark's one evening just over a
week ago. That was nothing out of the ordinary; the two met regularly
for lunch, and occasionally for dinner. They'd been doing so for
years.

*And after dinner,* he thought, *they went back to Garak's quarters
and had sex on the living-room floor.* Apparently, _that_ was not out
of the ordinary for them either.

Except that, on this particular evening, someone had recorded their
encounter to send to him.

*Who?* he wondered. *And why?*

---

He called Dr. Bashir into his office.

"Do you know what this is?" He held up the rod.

The doctor's brow furrowed. "It's a Cardassian datarod, sir. But I
suppose you mean do I know what's on it."

Annoyed as he was by this smart-ass answer, Sisko realized that
Bashir's response indicated that he didn't know a thing about it; the
doctor was curious, mildly amused, but he showed no sign of guilt or
self-consciousness.

"I received it this morning anonymously," Sisko explained. "It's a
video file of you, and Mr. Garak."

Bashir still wore a puzzled frown as he opened his mouth to ask a
question--and then comprehension dawned. He turned bright red. His
mouth shut, then opened again, and his eyes grew enormous as he
regarded his commander and waited to see what Sisko would say.

"I wish you would have told me about this yourself."

"I've never had to report my sexual activities before," Bashir
responded.

"You're not that naive, Doctor! Your personal life is none of my
business. I don't give a damn what you do, or who you do it with, but
if you have a lover who is a former intelligence agent for a hostile
government, then we have a potential breach of security and what you
do has to be my concern whether I like it or not. Do you have any idea
just how compromised you are because of this?"

The doctor looked abashed after this outburst. "Yes, sir," he answered
in a more subdued tone.

While he was furious at Bashir for his foolish involvement with a
possible spy, Sisko realized that they had more immediate issues to
face. He reached across the desk to give Bashir the datarod. If the
person who had sent this thought he would ruin the doctor over it, he
was mistaken.

"I don't want to bring Security in to investigate this yet," he said.
"I think that we can conduct our own private inquiry. Do you have any
idea who might want to damage you by doing this?"

"No, sir. But Garak-" Bashir hesitated. "Garak has enemies."

"Then maybe I ought to have a talk with Garak too."

---

Garak came up to Ops later that morning. "I believe you wanted to see
me, Commander," he said as he entered Sisko's office. "About _this_?"
And, with a dramatic gesture, he brandished a datarod.

"Did Dr. Bashir give you that?"

"No. I found it when I returned to my quarters last night."

Sisko understood. "The doctor didn't tell me that you were sent one
too."

"The doctor doesn't know. When he told me about this...intrusion, he
was already very upset. I didn't want to cause him further distress."
Garak took a seat near the door. "After I received this datarod, I
found a surveillance device behind one of the wall panels in my
quarters." He produced this device for the commander's inspection: a
tiny, metallic cube, about three centimeters on each side, with a
circular transparent panel on one face and a series of inactive lights
on the top. "It's a common Cardassian design. I search my quarters
regularly as a standard precaution--you never know who might be
watching you--and I am certain that this device was not there the last
time I looked."

"Which means it was installed recently."

Garak nodded. "Within the past month."

"We've had several Cardassians visit the station lately," Sisko mused
as he turned the cube over between his fingers. "Gul Dukat has been
here twice in that period of time. Are there any others you would
consider enemies?"

"None that I've been aware of, but whoever was responsible for
planting this device might have used a subordinate or confederate
--even someone who was _not_ Cardassian--to do the actual work."

"No one's contacted you? Made any kind of demands?"

"No, not yet. I believe that the responsible party wishes to remain
anonymous. It's my guess that if he intends to make demands, he will
convey them in person and, if he does not plan to reveal himself, he
will do so when there are plenty of other Cardassians around to
provide camouflage. He will have the perfect opportunity shortly."

"The conference," said Sisko. DS9 was expecting a delegation of
Cardassian dignitaries to meet with corresponding Bajoran officials as
part of the rapprochement between their two governments.

"If you're looking for enemies of mine, you'll meet more than enough
to satisfy you next week, Commander. Our guests will include a number
of high-ranking guls, legates, and civilian officials. People," Garak
concluded with a grin, "who know me well enough to despise me."

"You're being very cooperative, Mr. Garak," Sisko observed.

"I intend to work with you," the tailor replied promptly, "and give
you every assistance I can in finding the one who's doing this. I want
the culprit exposed as much as you do. I'm sure it has occurred to you
that _I_ may not be the target of this scheme."

"You mean it might be Dr. Bashir."

"Precisely. Short of assassination, there isn't much that any of my
old enemies can do to injure me now--but they might attempt to ruin or
manipulate an innocent party connected to me. A young Starfleet
officer in a sensitive position would be particularly valuable."

"Then why give copies of the file to you and me, but not to Bashir?"

"I wish I knew," said Garak. "But I think we can agree that we share
one common priority, my dear Commander: neither of us wants to see Dr.
Bashir come to harm. I trust you will ensure his protection, no matter
what happens."

Sisko couldn't argue with that.

Through the transparent panels of his office doors, he could see that
the doctor had returned to Ops during their conversation. Bashir was
talking with Dax at her workstation, but from the frequent glances
thrown up at the closed doors, Sisko could tell that the doctor's
attention was more focused on what was going on in here. When he
caught Bashir's eye, the commander gestured to summon him in.

Garak turned in his seat as Bashir came in. "Ah, Julian." He lifted
his hand to brush the doctor's flank with the backs of his fingers--a
small gesture, but one so intimate that Sisko was surprised that Garak
would do it in front of him. But Garak must know that he had viewed
the video file, had seen _that_; the tailor apparently believed that,
as far as his relationship with Bashir was concerned, he had nothing
more to hide. "We were just discussing this distasteful situation."

"I wanted you to join us," added Sisko, "since this problem concerns
you as well. We've been trying to determine the identity of the
blackmailer...if blackmail is the reason for this. Garak seems to
think that the person responsible will make himself known at the
upcoming conference."

"I've been thinking about it too, sir," Bashir replied as he took the
seat beside Garak's. "If it is a Cardassian who's doing this, I have
an idea how we can draw him out." He glanced at his lover. "Garak once
told me that other Cardassians wouldn't understand our- ah-
relationship. They see us--humans, I mean--as a highly sexual species.
We have that reputation around the galaxy. By their standards, we seem
casually promiscuous. If anyone knew that Garak was my lover, they
wouldn't see us as a couple--they would assume that I had a 'taste'
for Cardassians. _Any_ Cardassians."

"Not very flattering," Garak confirmed, "but it is true. I'm afraid
that my people know very little about humans. Until recently, the
political situation didn't allow for much personal interaction between
our two species."

Julian nodded. "But they're curious about us. You told me that any
Cardassian who knew about our relationship would think that it meant I
was available, and might come sniffing around."

"I never used such a vulgar expression!" Garak protested.

"You said they'd be 'naturally intrigued and eager to learn more about
me'. I knew what you meant." He turned back to Sisko. "So, if our
blackmailer is one of the Cardassians who's coming to DS9, I think
he'll pay me a visit in hopes of getting a- ah- bit of first-hand
experience."

"I don't like the idea of using you as bait," said Sisko. And,
although Garak didn't say anything, the commander could see that he
was also troubled by Bashir's proposal.

"I want to do it, sir," the doctor answered bravely. "I'll do whatever
I can to help catch the person who's been spying on us. Besides, if
I'm right, he'll come to me whether I want him to or not."

---

Ships bearing dignitaries began to arrive a week later. The Bajorans,
having a shorter journey, reached the station first: ministers of the
Provisional Government or their representatives, a dozen prominent
members of the Vedek Assembly, Kai Winn accompanied by a full retinue
of attendants. Sisko greeted each of them as they disembarked. The
Cardassians came soon after, and the commander greeted them as well.
There were a few familiar faces: Gul Evek, Legate Parn, Legate Turrel.
Others, Sisko knew only by name. Some, he had never heard of before
he'd read their names on the lists of attendees. He had studied the
files sent on all the Cardassians who would be on DS9 during this
conference and reviewed them with Garak to pick out the prime
suspects, Cardassia's most distinguished citizens among them. They
would have to proceed cautiously.

"Many of these Cardassians were in power during the Occupation," Odo
observed as he accompanied Sisko to meet Dukat's ship, which had
conveyed the last of the expected dignitaries to DS9.

"The Bajorans wanted it that way," the commander answered. "They
thought that the same Cardassians who played the biggest part in the
Occupational Government should be the ones to make amends. I can see
their point."

"Maybe," Odo growled. "But there are still a lot of hard feelings in
spite of this reconciliation."

They arrived at the airlock. Kira was already there in her dress
uniform, her eyes flashing resentfully; while she had been
scrupulously courteous to every Cardassian she'd welcomed to DS9 so
far, she was not looking forward to being polite to Dukat.

She turned at the sound of their voices, catching the end of the
conversation. "Odo's right, Commander. There could be trouble. Having
Dukat here will be hard enough, but one of the delegates he's bringing
with him is Renavik. He's a member of the Detapa Council now, but
during the Occupation he was Exarch of Rekantha Province. The
Provisional Government considers it a significant gesture that he's
agreed to come back to meet with Bajorans, but a lot of our people
aren't ready to forget-"

The airlock rolled open, and Dukat stepped out first. "Ah, Commander
Sisko!" he said with tooth-baring enthusiasm, "how good of you to come
and receive us personally."

Sisko plastered on a corresponding smile. "It was the least I could
do."

"And Major Kira! A pleasure, as always." Kira braced herself for the
usual verbal sparring, but Dukat merely gave her a smile and
perfunctory nod before he continued speaking to Sisko, "Let me
introduce you to my passengers. Councilor Renavik."

Other Cardassians were emerging through the airlock now; one of the
first, a tall, distinguished-looking man with silver streaks in his
raven hair and a sharp, ascetic face, bowed slightly as his name was
spoken.

"Councilor," Sisko said as he stepped forward. "On behalf of the
Federation, welcome to Deep Space Nine."

"It is an honor, Commander. I've been looking forward to meeting you.
I've heard so much about you."

"And this is Legate Auth, Legate Hirkus, Martida Korat of the Kardasi
Central News Service..." Dukat presented the other members of the
party, and Sisko greeted each in turn.

"Is there anyone in particular you want me to watch?" Odo asked,
_sotto voce_, as they escorted the Cardassians to the habitat ring.

"As a matter of fact, yes. Dr. Bashir."

"Dr. Bashir?"

Sisko didn't intend to explain all the details of the situation, but
he did tell Odo, "I have reason to believe that one of the Cardassians
currently on the station may approach Bashir, possibly try to harm
him. You don't have to neglect your other duties--I know you and your
staff will have more than enough to deal with the next few days--but,
whenever you can, keep an eye on the doctor. I want to be sure that
he's all right."

---

The first official day of the conference ran smoothly, although the
staff of DS9 was kept busy ensuring that it stayed that way. As Kira
had indicated, the BPG welcomed the return of Renavik, but many
individual Bajorans were not pleased with his presence on the station.
And while the former Exarch himself was un- failingly polite in the
face of this hostility, not all the Cardassian attendees followed his
example. Many of the guls and common soldiers didn't trouble to
conceal their swaggering attitude of superiority in front of the
people they had oppressed only a few years before. Feelings ran high
on both sides. The few altercations that erupted were swiftly and
diplomatically quelled--and where diplomacy was unsuccessful, the
antagonists were separated before they came to violence. Security
remained constantly on the alert; Odo prowled the Promenade and, per
Sisko's orders, passed by the Infirmary at regular intervals.

Near the end of the first day, protesters gathered at the entrance to
the temple--mostly Bajoran residents of DS9, but also a few others who
had come to the station specially for the occasion. While the
Constable and his staff were occupied in seeing that the protest did
not become violent, Bashir was busy in the Infirmary, preparing in
case it did.

The noise of the protest suddenly became louder and more vociferous.
Bashir went to the doorway to see what was happening outside--and
nearly ran into Gul Dukat, just coming in.

"Dr. Bashir, I'm glad to find you here." One of the nurses glared
suspiciously at the Gul, but he met her with a steady and unperturbed
gaze. "I was hoping that I wouldn't have to submit myself to the care
of the Bajoran medical staff." Dukat's left hand was curled
protectively against his breastplate; he extended it toward Bashir now
and opened his fingers to display a gash that cut diagonally across
his palm from the pad of the thumb to the base of the little finger.

Bashir came forward to examine the injury. "How did that happen?"

"An act of carelessness on my part. I was just having my dinner at
Quark's and became distracted by all the shouting on the Promenade."
He glanced back at the doorway, in the direction of the increasing
commotion beyond. "I'd forgotten how sharp Ferengi cutlery can be. Can
you repair it?"

The doctor led his patient to the nearest equipment cart. "It doesn't
look too bad," he determined after he had swabbed away some of the
blood. "It's not very deep--I doubt it's caused any muscular damage."
Picking up a dermal regenerator, he tended to the injured hand.

Dukat did not flinch or try to pull away while Bashir worked but, to
the doctor's annoyance, he kept moving closer. Each time Dukat took a
step forward, Bashir stepped back. Forward, back. Forward, back.

"Will you hold still, please?"

"Of course, Doctor. My apologies." He did not move away, but stood
where he was, smiling as Bashir swiftly finished repairing the wound.
When the work was done, Dukat drew his hand free and flexed the
fingers to test them. "Thank you, Doctor. You've done an excellent
job, comparable to a Cardassian physician."

"It was nothing, really."

"You're being too modest. I suspect that you have a lot of experience
with Cardassians, much more than usual for a Federation medical
officer."

Bashir looked up, but Dukat was still smiling at him benignly. "Yes, I
suppose I have," he answered in an even tone.

"I thought so. You know just how to handle us. Working here on Deep
Space Nine, so near to Cardassian space, must give you a remarkable
number of opportunities to gather new experiences."

He was too close. Bashir tried to retreat--and found himself backed
against the wall. "Um- yes."

"And, of course, there is always our old friend Garak."

"Doctor!" One of the nurses summoned him as the first casualties were
brought into the Infirmary: Bajoran protestors, a Starfleet security
officer with a smashed and bloody nose, and a pair of Cardassian
soldiers wearing sashes of purple livery over their breastplates.

"Excuse me," Bashir said curtly. "You see, I have other patients to
attend to." He made an abrupt move forward as if he meant to push
Dukat out of the way, but Dukat showed no inclination to allow him by
until another Cardassian was brought in--not a common soldier, but a
silver-haired, ascetic-looking man in ornate ceremonial robes, someone
of obvious rank, who was bleeding profusely from a gash on his
forehead.

The lesser injuries were already being tended to by his staff; Bashir
turned his attention to the newcomer. Once a nurse had seated the
dazed and injured Cardassian on an upright biobed, the doctor picked
up the medical tricorder to scan for cranial trauma.

"You're going to be fine," he told his patient soothingly. "It's only
a surface wound, not as bad as it looks. Those ridges tend to bleed
rather freely."

"Yes," said the Cardassian. "They're also very sensitive."

Bashir gave him a mild painkiller before he began to repair the wound.
His patient sat quietly, perfectly still under his ministrations--a
refreshing change after Dukat's intimidating performance!

"Almost done..." he reported after a few minutes' work. "We'll have
you back on your feet very soon, but you'll have to take it easy for a
while. No more getting tangled up with protestors. How did you manage
to get in the middle of this anyway?"

"They said they 'wanted' me. So, of course I came out to speak with
them," the Cardassian replied with a dry tone of irony, as if he were
well aware what a foolhardy thing he had done.

"You're Councilor Renavik?" asked Julian.

The slightest of smiles softened the asceticism. "My fame precedes
me."

"It would've been hard not to hear about you during this conference,
Councilor, the way everyone's been talking. You seem to be the main
topic of conversation."

"As well as the main target of derision." Renavik sighed, and gingerly
reached up to touch the spot where the injury had been. "I suppose I
deserve it. I've always been too impetuous for my own good. A more
cautious man would have hung back and let his guards escort him to
safety, instead of blundering in and trying to intervene in a volatile
situation."

Perhaps Renavik's injury had made him feel more vulnerable than usual,
but Bashir couldn't help thinking that this man didn't seem as
arrogant as most of the other Cardassians he had met.

"I thought that a few words from me might have a calming effect. You
see, in my former position, I was accustomed to speak before Bajoran
audiences. Today, they threw things at me. I'm sure there were some
who wished they could have done so during the Occupation, but I had
hoped that things had improved between my people and the Bajorans when
I agreed to come here."

"Not everyone feels the way the protestors do," Julian responded.
"Many of the Bajorans are just as interested in peace as you are. They
wouldn't have convened this conference if they didn't."

"I certainly hope you're right, young man. Otherwise, my journey will
have been for nothing."

Bashir reclined the biobed so that his patient could lie down. As he
left Renavik to rest and looked around to see where he was needed most
urgently next, he was relieved to note that Dukat had gone.

---

Once the last of the injured had been taken care of, Bashir went out
onto the Promenade to search of Commander Sisko. He found the
commander on the upper level, showing a group of Vedeks the worm-
hole, and dashed upstairs.

Sisko had only to take one look at the flushed and breathless young
man, and he left the group at the window.

"What's happened?" he whispered as he took Bashir by the arm to lead
him a discreet distance away.

"It's Dukat, sir! He was just in the Infirmary."

"Where was Odo?"

"Odo?"

"I asked him to keep an eye on you." Sisko quickly located the
Constable on the lower level, looking up at them with open puzzlement.

"Oh." The doctor turned to follow his gaze. "Odo was busy with the
protestors. He might not have seen Dukat, or if he did, he probably
didn't observe anything to worry him. Gul Dukat was requesting medical
attention. He had a cut on his hand. A superficial injury--I wouldn't
be surprised if he did it deliberately as an excuse to come and see
me."

"So you think he was 'sniffing around'?"

Bashir gave him a small, nervous smile. "You should have heard some of
the things he said: 'You know just how to handle us Cardassians'. I
was afraid that if my nurses hadn't been right there, he would've
thrown me across the nearest biobed and had his way with me."

Sisko scowled. "I _knew_ I shouldn't have let you do this! I can't
watch over you all the time."

"You shouldn't have to, sir. I'll be safe enough as long as I'm out in
public--in the Infirmary, Quark's, anywhere here on the Promenade. I
doubt even Dukat would dare to make an obvious move when dozens of
people can see him."

"Probably," he agreed reluctantly, "but it'd be better if you're not
alone at night."

Julian grinned. "I'm certain Garak will see to that."

"That's not what I meant," the commander answered quickly, a little
embarrassed. While he was able to cope with the fact that his doctor
and the Cardassian were lovers, the last thing he wanted to be
reminded of was that video scene he had witnessed. "I want you where I
know you'll be safe. Why don't you come and stay with me until this
conference is over? I can put you up in Jake's room." Jake was
visiting his grandfather on Earth and wouldn't be back for more than a
week. "If Dukat has any ideas about following up with you in private,
it won't occur to him to look for you there."

---

Julian acceded to the commander's wishes and spent an uneventful night
in Jake's room. He had no chance to speak to Garak that evening about
moving to more protected quarters, but when he told him about it over
lunch the next day, Julian was surprised; the tailor grudgingly
accepted the move as a reasonable precaution. Even more surprising was
Garak's lack of response to the identity of their supposed
blackmailer.

"You haven't confronted Dukat over this, have you?" he asked once he'd
heard the entire story of Bashir's encounter with the Gul.

"Uh- no."

"Don't. Not yet."

"Why?" Julian puzzled over this tepid reaction to his news; he had
expected Garak to be furious when he learned that Dukat was
responsible. Unless... "Don't you think Dukat's the one?"

"He may be, or he may not," the tailor replied. "We don't want to act
precipitously, and thwart our investigation before we even begin. If I
may say, dear Doctor, you are inclined to jump to the wrong conclusion
far too often."

"Well, what else can I conclude? Dukat's never paid the slightest
attention to me before and suddenly, there he is, crowding me into
corners, making suggestive remarks about my `experience'. He visits
DS9 more regularly than any other Cardassian, which gives him plenty
of opportunities to spy on us. Plus, he's one of your worst enemies,
or so I've been led to believe."

"Yes," Garak agreed, "but those same points can also explain why Dukat
might seek you out even if he knows nothing about that video file. He
knows that we are friends and certainly suspects we are...more. If he
believes he can strike at me through you, he wouldn't hesitate to do
it. Dukat is one of our primary suspects, but there are many others.
You mustn't forget them because of this one incident. How many of our
Cardassian visitors have you met?"

"Not many," Bashir admitted. "I'm not really involved in the
conference proceedings. I expect I'll have a chance to meet more of
them tonight at the reception."

"Then what harm can it do to wait and see what happens tonight?"

"None, I suppose."

Garak's gaze flickered; his eyes left Bashir's to look over the
doctor's shoulder. Julian turned in his chair to see a Cardassian male
in civilian clothes advancing toward their table, smiling broadly.

"I wondered if he'd dare to acknowledge my existence here," Garak
murmured, then raised his voice as the other Cardassian approached:
"Pridem, this _is_ a surprise!"

"Elim!" came the cheerful reply. "I've been looking all over for you
since I arrived. It's good to see you again, even under _these_
circumstances. Do you know how alarmed I was when I learned that you'd
been sent to Terek Nor? Exile among the Bajorans? Outright execution
would have been more merciful."

"And yet you said nothing."

"What good would it have done for me to speak out? It wouldn't have
saved _you_, dear Elim, and almost certainly would have been the ruin
of my career as well. Surely you can see that?"

"Yes, I see. It’s exactly what I would have done in your place."

"But I'm relieved to find that your punishment hasn't been as awful as
I had imagined." He glanced at Bashir. "Aren't you going to introduce
me to your...interesting companion?"

"Certainly. Pridem, this is Dr. Julian Bashir, Deep Space Nine's
medical officer. Doctor, Pridem Amat is one my oldest and dearest
friends."

"How do you do?" Bashir extended a hand, palm outward in the gesture
of formal Cardassian greeting that Garak had taught him.

Instead of pressing a palm to his, however, Amat took his hand and
gave it a brief squeeze. "What a great pleasure to meet you, Doctor."
His fingers trailed over the back of Bashir's hand in what felt like a
deliberate caress; Julian pulled away, startled and perplexed. Had he
been wrong about Dukat after all?

"I have a meeting I must attend, but I hope to see more of you while
I'm here," Amat continued smoothly. "And you too, of course, Elim. You
must tell me everything you've been up to."

After Amat had gone, Bashir leaned on the table and hissed, "Could it
be him?"

"What makes you think so?" Garak asked back.

"He seemed to know we were lovers."

"In this case, it's a natural assumption."

Julian understood. "You mean, he knows you that- um- well? You, and
he-?"

"It was a long time ago," the tailor answered simply. "You have no
reason to be jealous. Pridem Amat is nothing to me now."

"I'm not jealous," Bashir responded, "but maybe you ought to be.
Didn't you notice the way he touched my hand?"

"I noticed."

"He _was_ flirting, wasn't he?"

"Oh, yes," Garak confirmed. "He probably intends to make me an offer-"

"Make _you_ an offer-?"

"Since we're old friends, Amat would consider it only proper to speak
to me first, to come to some arrangement about sharing you during his
visit." He smiled as the doctor's eyes went wide. "Don't worry--I'll
tell him that I wouldn't dream of it. I happen to be very selfish
about my human."

"I'm glad to hear it," Bashir replied dryly. "And how far does that
selfishness go, Elim? Are you going to be at the reception tonight to
see if anyone else makes a play for me?"

"I wasn't invited," said Garak. "However, I'm sure that Commander
Sisko wouldn't object if I were to make an appearance. Do you really
think I'd leave you alone at so crucial a time?"

---

In spite of all the interpersonal tensions, the conference was
considered a diplomatic success, and the reception that evening was a
celebration. When Commander Sisko proposed a toast, "to Bajor and
Cardassia, and the hope of a better future for your two worlds," all
the attendees lifted their glasses to drink to it.

Bashir looked over the crowd assembled, studying the expressions on
the Cardassians' faces as they drank. It wasn't the future of the
peace treaty that troubled him, but more personal questions: Were any
of these people responsible for that datarod Commander Sisko had
received? Would one of them approach him tonight?

Even though he had insisted on acting as a decoy over the commander's
objections, he was growing nervous. Nothing had happened so far. Dukat
had not followed up on the overtures made yesterday. No one else had
come near. But this waiting was beginning to tell on him. The feeling
that he was being watched, which had haunted him since the first
Cardassians had arrived on the station, was intensified here amidst so
many. He was conscious of eyes upon him, although there were only
three people actually watching him as far as he could see: Odo, Sisko,
and, of course, Garak.

When Garak had brought his freshly pressed dress uniform to his
quarters earlier that afternoon, they had discussed their strategy and
agreed to arrive at the reception separately to avoid suspicion.
Bashir had taken his time getting dressed, and found Garak already
here when he'd made his entrance. Except for a few casual words of
greeting, the tailor had not spoken to him all evening but, as
promised, made an effort to keep him in sight.

Since he had drawn venomous glares and some nasty remarks from both
the Bajorans and the other Cardassian visitors whenever he was
noticed, Garak had retreated to the less conspicuous areas of the room
rather than bring unwanted attention to himself. Looking around,
Julian located his lover seated in an out-of-the-way corner, and saw
that Amat had joined him. The two were speaking softly together. He
felt a pang--not of jealousy, but of worry. In light of what Garak had
said about Amat's ideas of propriety, he couldn't help wondering if
that offer was being made now.

His suspicions about this 'old friend' had not been entirely allayed.
If Amat were the blackmailer, his attempts at extortion might very
well take the form of a proposition. And while Julian trusted his
lover to refuse the offer on his behalf, it seemed very probable that
Garak would try to deal with Amat privately and not tell him about it.
Probable? It was exactly what Garak would do.

Garak's eyes lifted suddenly to meet his, as if he'd been aware that
Bashir was watching all along. He gave the doctor a small, reassuring
smile; Julian was about to smile in return, when Amat turned and
beamed at him as well. The other Cardassian said something to Garak.
Julian couldn't hear what it was, but he could see that Elim didn't
agree. Amat waved, inviting him to join them, and Julian pretended not
to notice. Instead, he deliberately studied the nearly empty glass in
his hand and wandered off in the opposite direction, toward the
refreshment table.

After replenishing his drink, he tried the hasperat, which he normally
liked very hot, but found it too much for his already unsettled
stomach. He set his plate aside after a few half- hearted bites, and
moved on to the Cardassian dishes. Most of these were spicy too, but
he had had enough dinners with Garak to know which ones he could
handle right now.

He was nibbling on grape-sized balls of jellied _nakim_ fruit, when a
Cardassian of imposing size came up to the other side of the table to
help himself to the decanter of kanar.

"It's not often I see a human enjoying Kardasi cuisine," he told
Bashir. "I didn't think your people liked it."

"Some do," the doctor answered diffidently. "I suppose it's an
acquired taste." Popping one last _nakim_ into his mouth, he walked
away. The other man watched him go, then quickly skirted the end of
the table to follow.

"You're the Federation doctor, aren't you?"

"Er- yes," Julian answered, startled to find the strange Cardassian so
close behind him. "Legate, ah-"

"I am Legate Hirkus," the man introduced himself. "I noticed you
earlier, standing all alone, but I didn't realize who you were. You
don't mind if we talk?" He went on without waiting for an answer, "I
don't know very much about humans, only seen a few of you up close
like this before the Federation took over Terok Nor. You're rather
like the Bajorans--soft-looking people, but I suspect you're hardier
than you appear."

Julian wondered what to make of this. Was it an overture to a
proposition? After his encounter with Dukat, he didn't want to
misinterpret the Legate's remarks, oddly personal as they were, and
make a fool of himself by overreacting a second time.

"I probably shouldn’t say it, but I’ve missed the Bajorans," Hirkus
continued. "Not all of them, of course, but I had a few --my special
ones. Maybe now that this peace treaty is straightened out, I can
visit some of my Bajorans again, revive old friendships...if you know
what I mean." He gave the doctor a meaningful leer.

Impossible to misunderstand _that_!

"You know, Doctor, you look a lot like a Bajoran boy I used to have.
But you don't have the ridges." He lightly tapped the bridge of the
doctor's nose with a finger. "I miss him most of all."

Julian blinked hard at the unexpected touch, but he stood his ground
and tried to stay calm. He couldn't retreat now, not if Hirkus were
the one they'd been looking for. There was no reason to be
intimidated; after all, they were in the middle of a crowded room.
Nothing could happen as long as he was out in plain sight.

Nevertheless, he couldn't help glancing anxiously around. To his
relief, Garak was discreetly observing the situation. As much as
Julian would have liked his lover to come to the rescue, he understood
why Garak held back: by intervening now, he would be making a public
declaration of their relationship, defeating their intended goal of
drawing out Cardassians who already knew they were sexually involved.
While Hirkus was being very aggressive --Bashir suspected that the man
had had too much to drink--he hadn't said a thing to suggest that he
was responsible for that video file.

"You must have been very important during the Occupation," he said,
hoping to draw Hirkus toward the subject of Garak.

"I was Gul Officiate of the Occupational Government on Bajor."

"A man like you surely had many enemies," Julian pressed on.
"Bajorans? Or maybe other Cardassians?"

"Yes, a few," Hirkus answered, somewhat puzzled by the question. "A
man doesn't advance as far as I have without drawing some resentment."

"Are any of them here tonight?"

"None that need concern us." The Legate looked around--for an instant,
his eyes actually paused on Garak--but then he moved on, dismissing
the tailor as if he were beneath notice. "Whatever threat they might
have been to me in those days," he said, "they are nothing now. But
why all these questions about the Occupation? That's all over with.
Gone and forgotten. We're all friends today. We ought to celebrating."

"I thought we were." Bashir gestured to indicate the party going on
around them.

"I was thinking of something a little more... friendly," Hirkus
replied. "Why don't we go back to my quarters?" He placed a hand on
Bashir's arm.

This was farther than Julian was willing to go. "That's really very
flattering, but I'm afraid I can't."

"Why not? A boy like you--who do you think you're playing with?"
Hirkus tried to tug him toward the door; Julian resisted.

He looked around again, more desperately this time. Sisko had been
cornered by Kai Winn. Garak was watching them intently; with a word to
Amat, he rose from his chair as if he meant to come over. Julian was
certain that they were going to have to be indiscreet after all, when
deliverance arrived from an unexpected source.

Other people had noticed when Hirkus had taken his arm, Councilor
Renavik among them. When the doctor began to struggle, he advanced and
said, "I do hate to interrupt your conversation, but I must claim Dr.
Bashir for a few minutes. Don't you remember, Doctor? You promised to
tell me about the current medical conditions in Rekantha Province?"

"Er- yes," Julian responded, surprised by the lie but happy to be
given a graceful means of escape. "I'm sorry--it slipped my mind."

"I quite understand. You will pardon us, Legate?"

Faced with a rival of superior rank, Hirkus backed off. "Of course,"
he answered meekly, and let Bashir go.

"I apologize for the deception, Doctor," Renavik said as they walked
away together, "but you looked as if you were in need of immediate
assistance."

"Yes, thank you," Bashir replied with all sincerity. Garak, he saw,
remained at the other end of the room; the tailor seemed relieved by
the turn of events, but was regarding his rescuer with curiosity.

"I never thanked you properly for your medical service yesterday. I
hope you will consider this a small part of my repayment." Renavik
glanced back at the disappointed Legate. "I also hope that my actions
will serve as an apology for Legate Hirkus's behavior," he added with
a note of distaste. "The man is an embarrassment to himself and his
position. I'd hate to think that you considered him a representative
of all Cardassians, Doctor."

"No, I don't. I wouldn't do that."

"It's refreshing to find such open-mindedness from the Federation. But
I should have known to expect it from you, after you treated me with
such impartiality yesterday--or from what I had heard about you before
we met." He gave the doctor a smile. "I must confess, I knew something
of you before I was brought to your Infirmary."

"Did you?" Julian was surprised again. "From whom?"

"Gul Dukat," Renavik answered, with a nod to indicate the Gul, who had
joined Sisko and Winn; Dukat was laughing out loud, but neither of the
other two looked as if they'd made a joke. "He told me about all of
you on the journey here--you, your commander, the shapeshifter, and
the Bajoran major. I felt familiar with the personnel on this space
station even before we arrived."

Julian had to wonder what, exactly, Dukat had said about each of them.
"And have we lived up to your expectations, Councilor?"

"That remains to be seen."

Bashir lifted his eyes to Renavik's, then looked down again in a
tumult of confusion. Was he reading too much into this? Councilor
Renavik was just trying to be pleasant. Flirting, perhaps, but all
Cardassians did that; it was part of their usual style of banter. It
didn't mean anything.

"Is something wrong, Doctor?"

"Uh- no. I'm just- I just need some fresh air." His brush with Hirkus
had left him shaken and uncertain. Maybe _he_ had had too much to
drink? "Excuse me, please."

He left the room, feeling more confused than before. It was too
crowded in there--too many people, too many _Cardassians_. He was
seeing suspects everywhere!

He walked down the corridor until he came to a bay with a window that
looked out over the station's outer ring and one of the pylons arcing
up into the starry field behind it. Hands on the lower rim of the
ovoid window, he leaned his head against the cool glass and took
several deep breaths. He had to try and think through everything that
had happened tonight. Which one was it? Amat? Hirkus? Could it be
Renavik?

"Doctor."

He jumped, startled by the voice behind him, and turned to find Garak
standing there, frowning at him.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I had to get away for a minute."

"You shouldn't have gone out by yourself. It was very foolish of you."

"I know, Elim." Julian accepted this scolding. "I'm sorry. But I
needed some time-"

He stopped when Garak lifted a hand for silence. Someone was coming.
The tailor took his arm and swiftly guided him into the shadows behind
a support beam. As they stood close together, watching, Hirkus came
around the curve of corridor, obviously looking for him.

After the Legate had walked past, unaware of their presence, Garak
whispered, "And that is exactly why you shouldn't have left the
reception alone."

---

"It's Legate Hirkus," Bashir declared as they walked to the habitat
ring. "It's got to be."

Garak tried not to smile. "This morning, you thought it was Amat."

"You told me that Amat was an old- er- friend of yours."

"He is, but that doesn't eliminate him from suspicion. On the
contrary, Pridem Amat knows me better than any of our other
candidates. If he possessed confidential information about me that he
could use to his own advantage, I don't think he would let our years
of friendship stand in his way."

"But he hasn't used that information...has he?"

"You mean, has he tried to coerce me into sharing you? No, he hasn't."

"Then what were the two of you talking about?"

"Old times," Garak answered vaguely. "Amat did make one or two
complimentary remarks on how attractive you looked tonight. I had to
agree with him--I've told you that that formal uniform is much more
flattering than the one you usually wear. Beyond that, we didn't
discuss you. I believe that Amat was expecting me to be... generous
without further prompting."

While Julian had the feeling that Garak wasn't telling him
everything--nothing unusual in _that_--he believed that this last part
was true. The offer had not been made.

"If it were Amat," he mused aloud, "surely he would've said
_something_. He wouldn't leave it up to you. No, I don't think he is
the one. Besides, Hirkus is such a filthy old goat."

"I can't debate you on _that_ point," Garak replied. "I don't usually
resent it when people admire you, Julian--it shows signs of their good
taste--but Hirkus..." he sighed. "I can't forgive anyone who is so
conspicuous about it."

"We wouldn't have known he was among our suspects if he'd been more
discreet." Then, recalling his other, more circumspect admirer, Julian
asked, "What about Councilor Renavik? Do you know him?"

"I know _of_ him," said Garak. "He was quite prominent during the
Occupation and has risen to greater powers since, but I have no
personal connection to him. There is no animosity between us. If he is
responsible for our predicament, I can't imagine why."

"He seemed interested in me."

Garak did smile then. "Dear Julian, it is possible that someone could
find you attractive without being an extortionist."

"You're right. They can't _all_ be involved."

"That does seem unlikely."

"Is it me, Elim?" Julian wondered. "Do I give off some sort of 'come
and get me' pheromone that's irresistible to Cardassian males?"

"I can't speak for all Cardassian males, but you have always had that
effect on me." As they approached his door, he slipped one arm about
the doctor to draw him closer. "Are you going to come in?"

"No," said Julian, "I- er- don't think I ought to."

"I've made a thorough search of my quarters," Garak assured him.
"There are no surveillance devices."

"All the same, I'd feel funny about it. I don't think I'll ever be
completely comfortable in your quarters again after this. I'd always
feel as if we were being watched."

"We can go to your quarters."

"Not tonight. Remember? I'm staying with Commander Sisko until all of
this is over." At his lover's look of disappointment, he added, "It's
only for one more day. We'll make up for it tomorrow," and he gave
Garak a quick kiss before he went on his way.

As he walked along the corridor, he occasionally heard footsteps
behind him and knew that Garak was following to see that he stayed
safe. At the door to Sisko's quarters, he turned; he saw no one, but
there was a deep shadow in the recess by the nearest turbolift. A good
place for someone to hide.

"Good night, Elim," he said to the shadow, and went in.

---

When Sisko came back to his quarters after the reception ended, he was
relieved to find Julian in blue pajamas, sitting and reading on Jake's
bed.

"You're all right, Doctor?"

"Yes, sir, I'm fine."

"I thought you might still be with Garak," the commander said
delicately. "I noticed when you left the reception, he followed you
out."

"He walked back with me, but I left him outside. I hope he's not still
out there."

"I didn't see anyone."

The doctor smiled. "Garak would consider himself unprofessional if you
did. Is the party over?"

Sisko nodded. "Security is escorting our guests to their quarters.
I've asked that a guard be set to keep watch over that Legate who
grabbed you and see that he stays in for the rest of the night."

Bashir regarded him for a moment before he said, "You've been
wonderful about all of this, Commander, right from the beginning. You
could have come down hard on me after you received that datarod. You
could've left me to deal with the ramifications--the Federation, the
Cardassians--by myself. I want you to know how grateful I am that you
didn't. I know you don't approve of Garak, sir."

"I don't care about Garak," Sisko told him. "I'm only interested in
seeing that your career isn't ruined because of him. I don't like this
relationship, but I would have minded my own business about it if it
hadn't been brought to my attention so...well, so vividly."

Julian ducked his head and admitted, "Do you know, I haven't even
looked at that video file yet? I don't know what it is you- ah- saw."

"Enough. More than I really wanted to. Doctor, do you mind if I ask
you a personal question?"

"Uh- No, sir."

"_Why_?"

"Why? Why Garak, you mean? Maybe this will sound strange to you, but I
am in love with him. You remember when I had to remove that implant
from his brain last year? He almost died, and I realized then how much
he meant to me. I took a chance--I told him so, and I've been happier
than I've ever been with anyone before. Whether or not you believe it,
he does care for me."

"This may surprise you, but I _am_ beginning to believe it," Sisko
replied. "Will you lock the door after I go?"

"Yes, sir, if you want me to." Bashir began to look worried. "Do you
think something is going to happen tonight?"

"If anything's going to happen, it'll have to be tonight. All of our
Cardassian suspects will be gone by tomorrow afternoon. Odo will make
sure that everyone stays where they should be before he has to return
to his liquid state--but just in case there is trouble in spite of all
our precautions, I want you out of the way when it comes. Good night,
Doctor." Sisko went out. He waited to hear the three-toned beep,
indicating that Bashir had locked himself in, before he went to his
own bedroom.



---

Sometime later, Julian awoke at the sound of a soft *thud*.

"Sir?" he called out.

No answer.

"Commander, are you all right?" He got out of bed, but paused before
unlocking the door. He'd been told to stay in...

Then he cast his hesitation aside. It was all very nice of Sisko and
Garak to want to protect him, but he wasn't a little prince in a
tower, to be guarded from danger at all costs. If something had
happened to his commander, he had a duty to investigate. He was, after
all, capable of defending himself. There was a phaser tucked under his
pillow, ready for just such an emergency.

Taking the phaser out, he confirmed that it was set it to stun, then
unlocked the door and crept out.

The rest of the quarters were dark and silent as he crossed quickly to
the other bedroom. From the light panels over Sisko's bed, he could
see that it was unoccupied.

Then he saw the bulk of a body lying on the floor on the far side of
the bed. He scrambled over.

A quick examination showed that Sisko had been hit on the head; a
large, purple lump was rising just above his temple, and a thin
rivulet of fresh blood ran down the side of his face. Whatever had
happened, it must have occurred only a few minutes ago. With no medkit
at hand, Bashir could only make sure that the commander's vital signs
were stable; he was about to call for emergency assistance, when he
froze at the sound of someone moving stealthily nearby.

He left the unconscious commander and ventured out into the living
area.

As he passed the cluster of armchairs and sofa at the middle of the
room, someone grabbed the pajama fabric at the backs of his calves and
swiftly brought him down. An arm went around his waist to drag him
back behind one of the chairs and a hand covered his mouth before he
could cry out.

"Julian," Garak's voice, near his ear, "be still."

He relaxed. The hand on his mouth dropped away, but Garak continued to
hold him.

"What are you doing here?" Bashir whispered.

"I was keeping watch in the corridor outside, when I saw someone
breach the door. I followed him in. Where is Commander Sisko?"

"Out cold. Where-?"

"I don't know. Stay here, and try to stay out of danger." Garak rose
and left him.

The tailor moved so quietly that, within seconds, Bashir couldn't tell
where he had gone. A door slid open--the door to Sisko's room, from
the direction of the sound. Was it Garak going in, he wondered, or
someone else coming out? Had the intruder been in there all the time?
In the bathroom? The closet?

A measured footfall. A disruptor shot. There was a scuffle, and then
someone headed his way.

Julian rose from his hiding place, phaser ready. Hoping it wasn't
Garak, he shot. He saw his target, frozen for an instant in the flash
of the phaser blast, then the man fell to the carpet.

"Lights!" Garak ordered, and came forward to find the doctor standing
over a sprawled, stunned Cardassian, looking down at the face.

"I don't believe it," said Julian. "It's Renavik."

---

"I still can't believe it."

Bashir was repeating this same refrain even after Security had taken
Renavik away and Sisko had been conveyed to the Infirmary. He stood
over one of the biobeds now.

"Of all our suspects," he went on talking as he tended to the
unconscious commander. "Renavik seemed the least likely. He was- well-
so _nice_. I could see he found me attractive, but I never imagined he
would do something like this just to get to me--break- ing into
Commander Sisko's quarters, attacking him. It seems so incredible."

"Not so incredible," Garak replied thoughtfully. While Bashir worked,
he had taken a place near the Infirmary door and stood looking out
over the quiet Promenade in the direction of the Security Office,
where Renavik was being held. "During his Exarchy on Bajor, Renavik's
tastes for Bajoran boys was well known. It became quite a scandal, in
fact."

Bashir paused in wielding a dermal regenerator and looked up at him.
"You _knew_ this, and you didn't tell me?"

"I was reluctant to. I could see that you were already unsettled by
Renavik's attentions and I didn't want to distress you by giving you
more information about him. Sincerely, Julian, I didn't think it had
anything to do with our situation. After all, Renavik was not the only
Cardassian official during the Occupation to be guilty of that kind of
misconduct. But, given his rank, nothing was done about it. When his
activities became too indiscreet to be over- looked, he was quietly
called back to Cardassia and reassigned."

The doctor considered this while he finished treating Sisko's
injuries, then picked up a hypospray containing a mild stimulant to
bring him around. "Given his position now," he asked, "will anything
be done about this?"

"Probably not. At most, Renavik will be asked to resign from the
Detapa Council. It wouldn't surprise me if the whole incident was
simply hushed up."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Sisko rumbled. He opened his
eyes and focused on the doctor. He tried to get up, but Bashir firmly
took him by the forearms.

"Careful, sir. You've sustained a blunt trauma to the head. I've
repaired the damage, but you're going to feel a bit dizzy. Slowly
now..." He helped the commander into a sitting position, checked his
pupils, and asked, "What's the last thing you remember?"

"I woke up. There was a Cardassian standing at the foot of my bed..."
Sisko rubbed just above his temple.

"That would be Renavik," said Bashir.

"Where is he now?"

"He's in custody, sir, in the Security Office. We can go and talk to
him as soon as you're feeling up to it."

"I'm feeling up to it. Let's go."

They went to the Security Office. Odo, restored to humanoid form and
more eager than ever to know what all this was about, admitted them to
see Renavik, who was seated in one of the cells. The Councilor rose to
his feet as the trio entered.

"Commander Sisko, I'm so glad to see you haven't been seriously
harmed. Please, let me offer my sincerest apologies for my...
mistake."

"Oh, it was a mistake, all right," Sisko replied with a coolness that
barely concealed his anger.

"I got into the wrong room--entirely by accident," Renavik insisted.
"It was Dr. Bashir I wanted to see."

"That doesn't excuse your breaking in in the middle of the night."

"No, it doesn't. I can only say that, after my conversation with the
doctor earlier this evening, I was encouraged to hope that I wouldn't
be unwelcome." He turned to Bashir. "I meant you no harm, Doctor."

Under the circumstances, Julian found this hard to believe. "How did
you know where I was?" he asked.

"After you left the reception, I noticed that Legate Hirkus had also
departed and I became alarmed for you. I followed him out to be
certain that you weren't in any danger. I was quite relieved when I
saw that Hirkus hadn't found you--but you were with another
Cardassian, your friend here." He gestured at Garak. "I thought it
would be prudent to follow you a little longer, to what I assumed were
your quarters."

"But you didn't go in right away," said Sisko.

"No. Dr. Bashir's friend looked as if he meant to take up residence in
the corridor outside for a very long time. I saw no opportunity to
enter without drawing attention to myself. I didn't want to cause any
awkwardness, so I returned to the reception and came back once things
were more quiet. I had no idea that you were there, Commander Sisko,
that you and the doctor shared quarters." Even in the midst of his
discomfiture, Renavik took a moment to give Bashir an oblique glance.
"He is a remarkably busy young man! By the time I discovered my error,
it was too late. I was deeply mortified to find that I had
inadvertently blundered into your bedroom, and I would have explained
how I came to be there if I'd been given the chance. Unfortunately for
both of us, you are... formidable when angry. I was only attempting to
defend myself when I struck you. I hope you can forgive my actions
tonight."

Renavik sounded very contrite and eager to explain himself. His
account of his actions seemed fairly plausible: seeking Bashir, he
could easily have wandered into Sisko's room by mistake, and then
panicked and lashed out when he was caught--although his motives were
probably not as innocent as he implied.

Sisko considered him expressionlessly for a few minutes, then replied
after some deliberation, "I might be willing to forget the whole
thing, Councilor, if you'll do something in return."

"Yes, certainly!"

"Hand over every copy of the file on that datarod. If you've given it
to anyone else, I want to know who. After all the copies have been
located and destroyed, I'll see how much I can forgive and forget."

"What file?" Renavik's look of relief turned to puzzlement. "What
datarod? Commander Sisko, believe me, I am anxious to do all I can to
make amends for this regrettable incident, but I have no idea what
you're talking about."

"Have it your way, Councilor." Sisko summoned Odo and ordered, "Keep
him here until I contact the Cardassian authorities." Then he turned
and stalked out. With one last glance at Renavik, Bashir followed him.
Garak, who had said nothing during this interview, lingered behind.

"I'll have to let him go eventually," Sisko told the doctor once they
were out on the darkened Promenade. "Renavik's too important to the
peace process. But there's no reason why I can't make him
uncomfortable for awhile, after everything he's put us through. He can
spend the rest of the night in that cell." He turned to Garak, who had
just come out of the Security Office. "Did he tell you anything?"

"No, Commander. Councilor Renavik and I had nothing to say to each
other."

"I'm going to bed. I'll have another talk with him in the morning
before I bring the Cardassian government into this. Maybe he'll be
more cooperative after he's had a few hours to think things over." The
commander took a few steps, then looked to Bashir. "Are you coming?"

"No, sir. Good night." After Sisko had gone, the doctor turned to
Garak, who was apparently lost in thought. "Let's go."

Garak came out of his reverie. "Where?"

"My quarters. There's no point in my going back to sleep in Jake's
room now that all the excitement's over."

"Oh, I wouldn't put it quite _that_ way--not unless you're planning to
tell me that you want to be alone for the rest of the night."

Julian smiled. "No, I want you to stay. After everything that's
happened, I definitely do not want to be alone."

They walked back to the habitat ring, Garak still pensive and less
talkative than usual. Once they were in his quarters, Bashir reached
up to put his arms around the tailor's shoulders.

"Thank goodness that it's all over with," he said after a kiss. "We
really haven't the chance to spend much time together since all this
began."

"Is it over?" asked Garak.

"Of course. No matter what the Cardassian government decides to do
with Councilor Renavik..." The words trailed away as he studied
Garak's expression. "You don't think this is the end of it, do you?
You think there's something more going on here?"

"I told you, Julian--I don't _know_ Renavik. And now that I have seen
him, I am certain that he doesn't know me either. I can't think of any
reason why he would do this."

"He didn't say anything to you after we left?"

"No, nothing. If he had been planning to come to a private agreement
with me, it would've been the opportune time to speak, but he didn't.
He only stared at me. I don't believe he knows about the datarod at
all."

"That's what he said, but Commander Sisko thought he was lying."

"He might be," Garak answered, "but he gave us an extremely convincing
show of bewilderment. I flatter myself that I can tell when people are
concealing something, and I don't think Renavik was--at least, not
about that datarod or the video file on it."

"But he must be involved somehow. It's all too much of a co- incidence
otherwise. All right, maybe he did take a fancy to me and decided to
drop by tonight without waiting to be invited--but just when we're
looking for Cardassians who _are_ interested in me? Conference or no
conference, there seem to be an awful lot of them around the station
lately." They went into the bedroom, the doctor stripping off his
uniform on his way. "Could Renavik be working with someone else,
someone who does have a grudge against you?"

"That's the only conclusion I can come to."

"But _who_?"

"I wish I knew..." Garak sat down on the bed. He was still
preoccupied, but when Julian, now naked, sat down beside him, he put
an arm around him and moved closer for another kiss.

Their kisses deepened until, with a playful push, the doctor sent him
flat down on his back and threw a leg over his waist, then sat astride
him while pulling open the clasps of his tunic. But Garak was not
willing to be ridden this time; taking Bashir by the wrists, he sat up
suddenly and tumbled Julian back onto the mattress. He lowered his
head to Julian's chest to taste the smooth, bare human flesh and began
to kiss, slowly, lower...

Then Garak lifted his head and said, "Dukat!"

"Uh- what?"

"I've been a fool!" He left the bed, quickly refastening his clothing.
"Excuse me, dear Julian. I have to attend to this right away. Stay
here. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I'll wait up," Bashir answered in bemusement as the door to his
quarters slid shut. And he meant to, but fell asleep long before Garak
returned.

---

The next morning, the news that spread around DS9 was not about
Councilor Renavik's arrest--that information was being suppressed
--but that Gul Dukat had left the station mysteriously in the middle
of the night. The Cardassia dignitaries he had brought to the
conference were furious, wondering how they were going to find
alternate transport home. Others wondered what had caused Dukat to
leave so abruptly without a word.

But Julian thought he knew. When he met Garak for breakfast at the
Replimat, he opened the conversation with, "I want you tell me what
you were up to after you left me last night. You went to see Dukat,
didn't you?"

"Actually, I went to see Pridem Amat first," Garak replied cheerfully
after a sip of rokassa juice. "I thought he would be able to confirm a
few theories I had developed."

"Did he?"

"Oh, yes. It seems that Dukat not only conveyed Amat here, but he
brought Hirkus and Councilor Renavik as well. And that was not the
only thing all three had in common. When I asked him, Pridem admitted
that he had known of you, and of our relationship, before he arrived
on Deep Space Nine. Dukat told him."

"Dukat told Renavik about me!" the doctor exclaimed, beginning to
understand. "Renavik said so last night. And Hirkus too?" He laughed.
"I _knew_ it was Dukat all along! When I said it was odd that there
were so many strange Cardassians suddenly interested in me--was that
what made you realize that he was the one responsible?"

Garak nodded. "You were right: there were too many apparently
unconnected people involved for it to be coincidence. It occurred to
me that our supposed extortionist, instead of keeping his information
to himself, was disseminating it. Guls like Dukat, who conveyed so
many of our guests here, would be in a prime position to gossip, and
Dukat himself has always been at the top of our list of suspects.
Plus, he knows this station and its inhabitants quite well.

"Pridem confirmed that Dukat had mentioned you to several people
during their journey, either--in his own case--in connection to me, or
to men like Renavik and Hirkus. Both were involved in scandals with
Bajoran boys. Renavik, you know about. But Hirkus also came under
suspicion when his Bajoran lover was discovered to be a member of the
Resistance. Pridem reminded me of that. If Dukat recalled these old
scandals--as I assume he did--he'd naturally conclude that they would
be interested in a...promising prospect on DS9."

"If they were looking for a bit of sexual entertainment with a human,"
Bashir translated. Then he stopped and stared at Garak, eyes wide.
"You don't think Dukat _showed_ them that video file?"

"I can't be certain. But he will not show it to anyone else. With
Pridem's assistance, I convinced him to destroy all copies of that
file and leave the station immediately. I resorted to extortion--which
seems appropriate under the circumstances, don't you agree? There are
certain secrets that Dukat would not want his colleagues, nor his wife
and family, to find out about."

"What secrets?" asked Bashir. "Come on, Garak--you can't throw out a
juicy hint like that and leave me hanging. Tell."

"If you insist." After this successful display of his detective
skills, the tailor was in a good mood and ready to be generous.
"Remember, I told you that improprieties with Bajorans were all too
common during the Occupation. Dukat never took an interest in boys as
far as I know, but he did show a notable predilection for Bajoran
women. During his prefecture, he kept an opulent number of mistresses.
So much is common knowledge. But there was one woman in particular...
If she, and her half-Cardassian child, were known about, it would be
Dukat's ruin."

"Gul Dukat's fathered-" Julian began in amazement.

Garak nodded. "And if he is any further trouble to us, that
information will be made public. Pridem will see to that."

It occurred to Bashir that he didn't know just who Pridem Amat was nor
what he was doing here. The man appeared to be a civilian, and was not
attending the conference in an official capacity. Nor was he one of
the Kardasi news service personnel. He seemed to possess some
extremely personal information about several high- ranking
Cardassians, and he and Garak had known each other for years... "Is
Amat in the Obsidian Order?" he asked.

"Merely an old friend who was glad to be of help," Garak replied
vaguely. "However, in exchange for his assistance, I'm afraid he may
be expecting you to be more cooperative if he visits us again-"

"Elim!"

"But we will just have to disappoint him," he finished with a broad
smile, to let Julian know that he was joking. "Haven't I told you? I
am quite selfish where my human is concerned. I hope that this
incident has given you enough proof of _that_."

---

Renavik was released later that morning and sent back to Cardassia to
face whatever reprisals he might from his own government. Arrangements
for transport were made for him and the other delegates who had been
stranded by Dukat and, by midday, DS9 was quiet again. After the last
of the Bajoran and Cardassian visitors had departed, Garak went up to
Sisko's office to give him a full recounting of events.

"...And once I realized what Dukat intended, the sudden pro-
liferation of unlikely suspects made sense," the tailor concluded. "I
don't believe he meant to contact either Dr. Bashir or myself
directly, even if he couldn't help taunting the poor doctor with his
knowledge, as he did in the Infirmary. It's my theory that he planned
instead to remain at a safe distance and send others the doctor's
way--to let them do all the work and to take all the blame."

Sisko had listened to Garak's report without interruption. Now, he sat
with his fingers steepled and focused on the tips of them
contemplatively as he mulled over everything he had heard.

"If that was his intention," he asked, "why send that datarod to me?"
His eyes lifted to regard the tailor seated on the other side of the
desk. "The one thing I still can't figure out is _how_ and _when_ he
had the opportunity to leave it here."

Garak met his gaze steadily for a long minute before he answered,
"Dukat didn't send you that datarod, Commander."

"_You_ sent it?" Sisko had had his suspicions about this for some
time.

"It's a copy of the one I received," Garak confirmed. "I'm afraid I've
misled you, Commander Sisko-"

"Why am I not surprised..."

"I let you think that extortion was our culprit's goal, when I already
knew that this was not the case," the Cardassian continued over this
murmured aside. "You see, the datarod that was sent to me contained no
message. No threats were made, no requests for information, no
descriptions of tasks that must be performed-- none of the things I
would have expected to find if I were being blackmailed. I could only
form one conclusion: that the person who had been monitoring me, and
who had sent this video recording, did not intend to make demands. He
wanted me to be aware that he knew of my relationship with the doctor.
As Dr. Bashir has already informed you, Cardassians are intensely
curious about humans. He was very fortunate last night. I don't
believe, even now, that he fully realizes what form that interest
would take. _I_ saw it at once. I understood what we were being
threatened with, and I realized that I was in no position to protect
the doctor adequately. And so I came to you for assistance."

"Couldn't you have just asked?"

"I didn't know if you would believe me. You might think it was some
sort of trick, and not appreciate the danger the doctor was in until
it was too late. Besides, I needed to draw the sender out. I had my
suspects, but _you_ have resources at your disposal that I do not. I
couldn't have gained access to information on all the Cardassian
delegates who were coming here--not without making a considerable and
somewhat risky effort. I certainly would not have been kept apprised
of the security arrangements for this conference, and I couldn't have
asked Odo to watch over Dr. Bashir. I couldn't have the doctor stay in
_my_ quarters without drawing attention. Of course, I was averse to
having our relationship exposed..."

Sisko was doubtful; in spite of Garak's professed reluctance, he was
certain that the Cardassian was not very upset at revealing the
relationship--at least, not to him. While he believed that Garak was
telling the truth about the reasons for turning to him to launch the
investigation, Sisko also suspected that the tailor had wanted him to
know that Bashir was _his_. Perhaps he had even taken a sort of
perverse pleasure in demonstrating the fact in such graphic detail.

"I might have done something to put a stop to it," the commander told
Garak grimly, almost as a threat.

"You might have, but I didn’t think you would," Garak pleasantly
called his bluff. "As I told you at the beginning, Commander: I knew I
could rely on you to protect Dr. Bashir, no matter what."

---

The End