The BLTS Archive - All's Well That Ends Well by Mary K. (mkk2@csd.uwm.edu) and Terrie Drummonds (tdrummonds@aol.com) --- DISCLAIMER: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and the characters created within are property of Paramount. However, the story and those parts not used by Paramount are COPYRIGHT 1997 by Terrie Drummonds and Mary K. --- "Dabo!" Veronica Carlson leaned, disconsolate, against the pillar and stared sadly at the gleaming dabo wheel. Half of her weekly pay allotment had just gone to feed the ravenous wheel, and as soon as she had decided enough was enough and had regretfully walked away, the first gambler to take her place, a Bajoran, had won, and won big. She sighed. She didn't like Bajorans - the ridiculous dangling earrings annoyed her, as did the overly serious and somewhat confrontational manners displayed by the wearers. Then, too, she heard that Bajorans still didn't like Cardassians, ANY Cardassians, and Veronica happened to be newly employed by a Cardassian, Elim Garak. Garak (he had told her to call him that,) was kind and generally easy to work for, letting her set her own hours and even granting her several unexpected afternoons off. She enjoyed her conversations with him, and was beginning to feel almost an affection for him, once she had gotten over her initial discomfort around such a new and intimidating species. One thing she had still not managed to figure out, however, was why a seemingly robust and healthy man like Garak needed to see the doctor so often - he would run to the infirmary on any pretext whatsoever. Veronica herself only visited such places on the occasions of required physical exams; every time she moved from one place to another, such an exam was often required, as a formality. At the moment, though, Garak seemed his usual picture of health; Veronica shrank behind the pillar when she noticed him entering the bar. He would see her standing at the wheel, know exactly what she was doing there, and immediately assume she was either irresponsible with her pay, or was given too much of it - neither prospect appealed to her. Damn - why did he have to walk in NOW? He usually did some sort of inventory work in the shop on this night each week - Veronica had tried to help him once but didn't know the Cardassian numbering system he used. He offered to teach her, an offer she gladly accepted, as it would help her immensely in her research. But tonight was not the night. Tonight she was researching the numbering system at Quark's, and learning all she needed to know about a week on bare replicator rations and enduring her employer's disapproval. She backed up, away from Garak and the clamor at the dabo wheel. Further and further back, as Garak approached... just a little bit further, so he wouldn't be able to see her... "Excuse me." "Hmm?" She whirled around and stared into the face of some sort of male fashion model - perhaps a model for Starfleet uniforms, as he was wearing one, with lieutenant's pips on the collar. "You were just about to back into me." He smiled. "Oh. Sorry," she mumbled, and began to shuffle toward the dabo wheel when she crashed squarely into the chest of Garak himself. In the split second between the crash and his bringing his arms up to steady her and break her fall, she was aware of the pleasantly alien scent clinging to his skin and clothing, a scent she hadn't noticed very often in the shop. Interesting, and intriguing. "Veronica! What are you doing here?" "I - I -" "I was under the impression you didn't drink any sort of synthehol." "I don't." "Then I certainly never expected to see you here in Quark's." She stared at him, again unable to reply. The fashion model was watching her with a slight smile on his face - HE knew what she had been doing in Quark's, no doubt. "Well, you see, I -" At that moment, several female Bajorans emerged from one of the holosuites on the second level, laughing and talking animatedly. "I was with them... in the holosuite, I mean." They had undoubtedly been engaging in some sort of sporting event, Veronica reasoned. Garak looked slightly taken aback, and glanced in surprise at the model, who only grinned. "Oh, you - LIKE - that sort of activity?" "Well... yes," Veronica faltered, much more unsure of herself now. "Yes, I try to get some exercise in whenever I can." Garak blinked. "Um... if you'll excuse me, I'll be going - see you tomorrow, Garak!" She fled. Garak watched her go, as Bashir sat down at one of the tables. "Who is she, Garak?" "Hmm?" "The woman. Veronica. The one who likes to go hunting Cardassians with the Bajoran resistance." "I'm sure she had no idea that's what those women do each week. This must have been her first time with them. She doesn't even speak Bajoran." "Well... I wouldn't worry about it. I have a feeling she didn't need to." He eyed the dabo wheel cryptically. "So. Who is she?" Garak sat across from him. "My new assistant, Veronica Carlson. From Earth. She's studying business administration and is doing research for a paper - I'm one of her 'internships.'" "What does that mean?" "She spends six months, she tells me, helping out at different businesses and learning all the cultural variations she encounters. She has to choose businesses that operate on Federation starbases, though, since she only speaks Standard. I thought I told you about her." "No, I would have remembered if you had." He stared down at his drink, which a departing waitress had just placed in front of him. "You don't approve of my having an assistant?" "No, of course I approve - I just wonder why you've been keeping her a secret. How long has she been here?" "Oh, I don't know - a week, perhaps. A little more. She's been a tremendous help." "I see." "No, you DON'T see. What exactly are you trying to say?" "Nothing. Here's your drink. We've got the holosuite reserved in half an hour." "Good. And what will we be doing tonight?" Garak grinned. Bashir grinned back. "I may see if that Bajoran program is still installed. I feel like chasing some Cardassians myself, for a change." Two levels away, Veronica Carlson was doing a little Cardassian-chasing of her own. She had been wandering down the corridor, lost in thought, wondering about Garak and his attractive friend, wondering why he had been so surprised that she was using a holosuite, when just in front of her, a Cardassian man dropped a datapadd he was carrying and continued to walk. "Sir! Sir!" she shouted, picking up the padd and desperately trying to overtake him. It was no use - the faster she hurried, the more rapid his pace became, boots echoing against the metal floor, eyes staring straight ahead. "Sir!" she finally shouted one last time, leaning against the wall, panting. Miraculously, he turned to face her. "Yes? What is it?" he said, curt but not entirely impolite. "You... dropped... this," she managed weakly, offering him the padd and trying to avert her eyes from his demanding blue gaze. "Thank you." He took the padd, then stood and regarded her for a few seconds. "Haven't I seen you in Garak's shop?" Veronica was mystified - she hadn't seen a Cardassian like him in Garak's shop or anywhere near it. "Y-yes, I'm his new - assistant." "I see. My name is Dukat." "I'm - Veronica. Veronica Carlson." "Good evening, Veronica." He reached out and clasped her hand. "Yes, I've seen you through the window, as I walked by the shop. I was wondering why Garak had such a frequent customer. His work certainly doesn't warrant it." He smiled, taking the edge off the critical remark. "Oh, his work is very good," Veronica began, feeling instinctively that she ought to defend her employer... what was that she had read once about Cardassian males? Territorial? Always fighting to protect their property? Well, Garak's shop was now HER property, in a way, and she could learn to defend it too. Dukat continued to stare at her, and in addition hadn't yet released his hold on her hand. Veronica began to feel decidedly uncomfortable. Decidedly thrilled too, but uncomfortable nonetheless. She had never seen this man before in her life, and was all alone in a deserted corridor with him. His smile widened, and she began to panic. He was really quite incredible. Not as beautiful as Garak, but with a sort of languid alien charm that was quite beguiling. She pulled her hand free, trying not to appear rude as she did so. "I'm sorry - I've got to... be going." "Yes, of course." He bowed slightly. "Thank you for returning this." "Returning what?" she faltered, and he held up the padd. "Oh, oh yes - you're welcome. Bye." She turned and began to walk rapidly away from him. "Veronica." She stopped. "Are you able to have dinner with me this evening?" "I - no, I'm sorry, I can't." DINNER with him? With a man she didn't even know, a CARDASSIAN? No way, no way in the universe... the crackers and the half an apple she'd be able to afford with her remaining credits for the day would be dinner enough. She sighed. "Perhaps I should have introduced myself a little more thoroughly. You evidently don't know me. I'm Dukat, commander of the Second Order -" Veronica stared, puzzled, "former Prefect of Bajor," her eyes widened, "and completely harmless, I assure you." I doubt THAT, Mister Commander, Veronica mused, but this person certainly SEEMED the type to hold all those exalted offices. Still, she could have sworn that the former Prefect of Bajor had a different name... what was it - Gul-something... Gul Dukat!! Yes! 'Gul' must be a title of some sort, not part of a name. This was THE Dukat, the one and only, who wanted to have dinner with HER and save her from the delicious repast she had planned. She'd be having dinner with the mighty Gul Dukat. Lead on, sir, she said in her mind, while out loud she replied, "Well, yes, all right, I'll have dinner with you." "Excellent. I welcome the chance to discuss current Earth events and politics. It's a hobby of mine." Veronica, wondering what other hobbies he'd invent for her edification, allowed herself to be led back down the corridor, Dukat's hand lightly resting on her arm. "If they could see me now," she began to hum under her breath, stealing sidelong glances at her impressive Cardassian companion. When they reached the door of Quark's, she hesitated. It was bad enough, being caught inside by Garak once already, but to be seen there again, escorted by Gul Dukat... She smiled and confidently sailed through the doorway, Dukat next to her. --- "... obviously, it is not quite as lyrical in modern Federation standard as it is in Middle English," Julian said as he and Garak left the holosuite. "Perhaps you would like a copy of 'Troilus and Criseyde' in the original language?" He smiled and turned to his companion. The station's regulars were always curious as to what the chief medical officer and DS9's only resident Cardassian talked about; they were even more curious about what the two unlikely friends did in a holosuite. The doctor and the tailor had to be careful since neither wanted their relationship to be broadcast throughout the station. Therefore, it was a necessity for them to always exit the holosuite in some type of debate and literature was a safe and easy topic. Most of all, it seemed innocent. This time, however, Garak was not paying attention. Even when the Cardassian was extremely distracted, he always made some flippant reply as if to prove he had heard what had been said. Julian, hurt his lover was so quick to ignore him, especially after a particularly invigorating escapade, called out again, "Garak?" The Cardassian didn't respond, so Julian decided to find out just what had captured Garak's undivided attention. He glanced about the upper level of Quark's and saw the most amazing sight: Gul Dukat dining with *that* woman... Vera... Vicky... Veronica. "Garak," Julian hissed and tugged at the tailor's elbow, "we were discussing Geoffrey Chaucer." "I realize that, doctor," the tailor replied somewhat distantly, his eyes still focused on the couple. "Then *talk* about it," the human insisted. "Perhaps another time. Good evening, doctor," Garak said and then walked away, staring at Dukat and Veronica the entire time. Julian's mouth dropped open. He couldn't even say the words brewing inside his fury-filled mind. His lover, the man he'd just given himself completely to a mere twenty minutes ago, treated him as if he were a prostitute! It was all because of her, that Veronica woman, who was now chatting amicably with the infamous Gul Dukat. To have Dukat on the station was one thing. Garak always became pensive and testy whenever his sworn enemy set foot on DS9. Cardassians were as territorial as Klingons, especially when it came to rivalries and especially when it was at the level as the one between Dukat and Garak. While the tailor had never said it and maybe would never admit it, Garak probably believed that the station was now his domain and his alone. Dukat's visit was toe-stepping, as the diplomatic rhetoric went, and to add insult to injury, the Gul's was dining with Garak's new apprentice. Julian was sure Dukat knew exactly who Veronica was; why else would the Gul's be dining with a human female rather than his own daughter? But the rationalization Dukat was playing some silly Cardassian mind game with Garak only went so far in assuaging the anger the doctor felt. Julian hated being snubbed, even more so when it came to his chosen lover. He couldn't help but pout slightly; the euphoric feeling he had enjoyed earlier was now flat, stale, and bitter. It just wasn't fair. Julian stormed off to his quarters, trying his best to forget a certain pair of Cardassians and *that* woman who had ruined his perfect day. He made it all the way down to the threshold of his quarters before the image of Garak walking away while staring at Dukat and Veronica popped into his mind again. Julian growled and stomped inside his quarters straight to his bathroom. He stripped off his uniform and then showered, scrubbing his skin with a loofah doused with his favorite shower gel (the one which always made Garak sneeze). When he was finished, he toweled his hair dry before donning his Starfleet issued undergarments. He knew he was being petulant by doing little things that annoyed Garak when the Cardassian wasn't even there to witness them. Julian didn't care. Thankfully, Fate decided to step in and give him something else to focus on. "All senior staff report to Ops," Kira's voice boomed through his quarters. Julian quickly dressed, slapping his rank pips and combadge onto his uniform as he departed his quarters and jogged down the hall. Julian thought, becoming even more surly as the Gul's's name seemed to echo in his mind. Thinking about Dukat was an invitation for his sadistic subconscious to bring up the image of Veronica and the subsequent expression on Garak's face when the tailor had seen Dukat and that woman at the table. Julian charged into the turbolift, barely acknowledging the other passenger. What aggravated Julian the most was the casual way Garak had brushed off any inquiries regarding Veronica. He would have certainly remembered if Garak had mentioned an assistant in his shop. He knew he would have! Julian fumed. The other passenger said something and Julian muttered the perfunctory greetings before it finally dawned on him whom he was sharing the lift with: Odo. The constable rarely looked happy; the shapeshifter's attempts at smiling usually sent young children screaming to their parents. Today was no exception, except that the normally silent and secretive Odo was talkative. Very talkative. If Julian wasn't so wrapped up in his own thoughts, he would have actually paid rapt attention to what the constable was saying. Finally, the lift ground to a halt at Ops, Odo's final dour comment, "I just can't wait to meet *this* commander" not making any sense at all. It didn't make sense, that is, until Julian stepped into Ops and noticed there was a new face among the senior command staff. No wonder Odo had been upset, furious enough to vent to *him*, and Julian knew he wasn't high on the constable's list of confidants, if the shapeshifter even had one. Kamia Kayne stood between Jadzia and Sisko, hands clasped behind her back. Julian stood stunned for a few seconds, his mind reeling that *she* would be *here.* He hadn't spoken to her in nine years *and* she hadn't aged a *day* since he last saw her! Her midnight black hair was neatly coiled into a bun and the style was held in place by two ivory hair sticks. A few wisps of hair had been strategically combed to frame her Japanese features, softening the severe effect of her hair being pulled away from her face. Her deep brown, almond shaped eyes, ones that were so dark some mistook her for being Betazoid, focused on him and a grin immediately broke across her features. "Excellent," Sisko was saying as Julian finally remembered to walk again. He followed Odo down to the center of Operations as Sisko introduced the new guest. "Odo, Doctor Bashir, this is Lieutenant Commander Kamia Kayne. She's been assigned as head of Starfleet security on the station." "Welcome to Deep Space Nine, commander," Julian said and nodded. Kayne began to raise her hand to offer the traditional handshake, and, just as Bashir reached her and touched her fingers, dropped into an attack stance. Bashir, uncomprehending at first, stared at her and then stared at the ceiling as his leg was swept out from under him. Kayne smiled down at him, her breathing and her composure both perfectly normal. "You forgot the first lesson I taught you, Jules. Never relax your guard, not even for an instant. Not even with your old friends." A collective breath of surprise was released, as Sisko began to smile, Kira laughed, and Odo stared at Kayne with new respect. Bashir, on the other hand, endured the indignity of being helped to his feet by the diminutive Asian woman while Dax congratulated her and asked her more about her relationship with Bashir. "Oh, Jules and I knew each other at the Academy - I conducted martial arts classes in the evenings, and he was one of my best students." She smiled conspiratorially, and Dax grinned back. "I wasn't aware that Doctor Bashir had any such training in his background," Sisko began, still very much amused. "Sir -" "Oh, Jules has many hidden talents," Kayne beamed and winked. Bashir felt his face redden. --- "Yes, I have many hidden talents," Dukat proclaimed, as pepper began to rain down on Veronica's salad from the old-fashioned pepper mill. "See? It works perfectly." He gave the lever a few more turns and then placed the device back on the table. "Now," he said, resting his chin on his hands and staring intently at her, "let's resume where we left off." "Oh, there isn't really much to tell," Veronica replied, stabbing a pile of lettuce leaves with her fork. "I'm doing a paper on business practices among non-Earth cultures. It gives me a reason to travel around a little bit without sacrificing an income, AND it may lead to a published paper and the chance to improve my resume. Plus, I've really been enjoying all my experiences so far." "Where did you work before your arrival on Terok - Deep Space Nine?" Veronica finished chewing the bite of salad. 'Terok Deep Space Nine?' "I was on Starbase 18, helping out in an Andorian restaurant. It was - interesting." "Interesting? In what way?" "Well, the Andorian chef had a great admiration for Ferengi cooking - so, he was fond of... are you sure you want to hear this?" Dukat nodded. "Well... he put bugs, insects, into everything he cooked. Everything. Even the desserts. Everything had some type of insect in it, recognizable or unrecognizable." She pushed the salad away and reached instead for her steak. "I'm actually surprised I'm eating here at Quark's." "Oh, you'll find that Quark's replicators will not even ATTEMPT to reproduce Ferengi food properly. They're thoroughly Cardassian in design." He smiled and began to attack his own steak; he had foregone the salad course. "If you don't mind my prying for just a few more moments - what made you decide to work for Garak? Surely there are enough other, ah, 'alien' business owners you could have contacted." "True, but he was recommended to me by Captain Sisko. He also recommended Quark's establishment here, but I had had enough of working in a restaurant, particularly a Ferengi-type restaurant. And besides, I hope I don't offend you when I say that I know almost nothing about Cardassians - I had never met one before I reached this area of space. I was very excited to be able to work with Garak and to learn from him." "Learn from him? What does he teach you?" "All kinds of things." She took a sip of her sparkling and heavily sugared soft drink. Dukat made an involuntary face. "We discuss business, mostly, and the traders he deals with, and Cardassian customs, and cultural differences..." An hour later, she was discussing cultural differences with Dukat in her quarters, where they had gone to watch one of her collection of antique Earth films, "A Hard Day's Night." As the Beatles proceeded to wreak havoc on the British train, she stole a glance at her stern Cardassian companion, sitting up straight on the couch, staring at the screen with frightening intensity. 'What in the WORLD was I thinking?' she thought to herself. 'Gul Dukat? Watching Ringo Starr in my quarters, late at night, all alone with me?' In truth, she wasn't quite sure HOW they had managed to end up back here. One moment, she was thanking him for the delicious dinner he had treated her to and suggesting that, if he really wanted to get to know Earth, she could help him by recommending some books and holovids. The next thing she knew, he was sitting next to her, in his dark gray uniform, eating popcorn out of a bowl and politely declining all her offers of soda, ice cream, and other sweets. Very, very strange. She reached for the last kernel of popcorn just as Dukat did the same thing; their buttery fingers brushed together. "Oh, sorry," Veronica mumbled, surrendering the popcorn to him - he gallantly offered it to her and, as she reached forward to take it, he leaned toward her and placed it in her mouth. She gasped. On the screen, John Lennon had begun to sing, "If I fell in love with you, would you promise to be true..." and Veronica hurriedly faced forward and stared at the film. 'What the HELL was THAT all about?' she wondered, panicking. Dukat had begun to tap his foot in time to the music; Veronica glanced down at his leg and thus totally missed the fact that his arm had been placed behind her, across the back of the couch. An instant later, it was around her shoulders. She jumped. "What are you DOING?" She stood in front of the couch, her back to the screen. "Enjoying the film. It's very good. Excellent, in fact. These 'Beagles' make very good music." "Beatles," she automatically corrected him. "Like the insects." Dukat appeared totally oblivious to her discomfort as he continued to watch the film, smiling suddenly at some bit of dialogue on screen. Veronica sat back down and perched on the edge of the couch. She had no idea how to handle this new situation... not that she'd have long to wait... the movie would end and she'd politely but firmly inform Dukat that she had to work very early the following morning. He'd gallantly bid her goodnight, and leave. No problem whatsoever. The Beatles finally disappeared in a helicopter, photographs raining down from the sky, and Veronica rose and carried the popcorn bowl to the replicator. As she pushed the button that would send it back to its molecular components, she felt a strong, muscular arm circle her waist from behind. "Thank you for the film," Dukat purred in her ear. "Now let's go to bed." "WHAT?!" she screamed, whirling around and throwing him off. "Mr. Dukat, I invited you here to watch the BEATLES, not to insult me and frighten me. Please leave - I don't want you to think I'm rude, but - but you've been acting even MORE rude." "Rude? How so?" His supercilious smile began to annoy her. "By asking for your company in my bed? That was far from being 'rude,' my dear. I was paying you the highest compliment of which I'm capable." Maybe, Veronica decided frantically, he was telling the truth. She DID know very little about Cardassians yet. Maybe this was all perfectly normal. Maybe, in addition, she shouldn't antagonize the Commander of the Second Order, whatever THAT was, while she was trapped with him in her room. "Ah, all right, I'm sorry I misunderstood your culture, Mr. Dukat. But it makes me very uncomfortable, what you just said. Maybe we should discuss this at some other time." Dukat reached for her arm and pulled her tightly against him. "Yes, we'll discuss it tomorrow morning after we get a good night's sleep." The Beatles sang loudly, 'For why on earth should I moan, for when I get you alone, I'm gonna feel all right,' as Veronica tried to pull away. "STOP it! STOP IT!" she shrieked. "I'll call Security!" "You'll do no such thing." Dukat clamped his hand over her mouth. "You'll stop this ridiculous act and get undressed... although I must admit, your protests are incredibly arousing." "AROUSING?" She twisted her head and freed herself from his hand. "I am not trying to AROUSE you. Mr. Dukat, this is harassment - this is almost an ASSAULT. And - and - I'm a virgin besides, and haven't the slightest idea what I did to you -" "A virgin?" Dukat smiled happily. "I thought as much. There was no mistaking the hopeful way you looked at me when you invited me here. Your wish to learn about all the wonders we Cardassian men have to offer is about to be granted, my dear. And you couldn't have chosen a better host. I'm very good with virgins." "GET OUT! GET OUT!" Veronica screamed, wrenching herself free and running to the door. "I WILL call Security if you don't leave instantly. INSTANTLY." Dukat ambled toward the door. "I'm leaving. I'm staying in room G27, by the way, when you change your mind." "I won't change my mind." "Yes you will. They always do." He smiled one more time and was gone. Veronica pounded her fist against the closing door in frustration. That BASTARD! That miserable, egomaniacal, bragging, Cardassian BASTARD! She was going to go to Odo anyway, first thing tomorrow morning, and report this. There was something to be said for covering all the bases, so to speak, in case Dukat got any ideas about spreading his own version of events. The NERVE of that bastard! She flung herself down onto her bed and pounded her fist into the pillow. What a creep! What an absolutely unbelievable creep... she continued to pound the pillow and pretended it was his face... then she circled her arms around it and pretended it was his intriguing body... then she kissed it and pretended she was kissing his mocking grayish lips... "No, no, no, this is all wrong," she moaned. 'Good with virgins' indeed - the man was undoubtedly lying, in a crude and intolerably pompous way... she didn't want Dukat at ALL. She had only just MET him; she had no IDEA what he was really like, whether he'd be good to her or be too harsh, whether he'd talk to her afterward or roll over and tell her he was finished with her... No, Dukat would talk to her. He'd cradle her in his arms, against that lean gray body... how would that body really LOOK? What would it feel like, to be pressed against him, not just a man but a CARDASSIAN man... of course, she had been wondering for days about what it would feel like to wake up in GARAK'S bed - pure idle speculation, to be sure, with no hope of fulfillment. And then, out of the blue, out of NOWHERE, came an offer like this from another handsome Cardassian man. 'The highest compliment of which he was capable,' hmm? Too bad there was no way she'd ever take him up on it. She flopped back down onto the mattress and closed her eyes. Twenty minutes later, she timidly rang the door chime of room G27. "Yes? Who is it?" a familiar voice answered her from within. "Veronica." "Come inside, my dear." Before Veronica stepped forward to trigger the door opening sensor, another male voice called out, "Miss Carlson?" Chills ripped through her body as she slowly turned to her left and stared at her employer. She couldn't tell if Garak was angry; she hadn't been around Cardassians long enough to be able to discern the underlying subtext of moods by their body language, facial expressions, and least of all their tone of voice. The tailor had been very gracious, respectful, and patient in the short time she had been working for him, but tonight... tonight had been disastrous. First, he'd caught her in Quark's and no doubt the male model had told Garak exactly what she was doing there. Then, he'd found her about to enter the den of Gul Dukat. She stammered, "G-G-Garak... I was just... um...." He stared at her. He didn't say a word or take a step closer to her. He just gazed at her with those eyes... those brilliant blue eyes which held her in place. She couldn't finish the sentence. "Veronica?" Dukat was now calling for her and from the volume of his voice, she knew he was probably about to open the door and find out why she hadn't entered the room yet. A glimmer of recognition flashed in Garak's eyes before the tailor gave a short nod, turned on his heel and walked down the corridor in the direction he came from. Veronica heard the door hiss open but she couldn't turn as she watched Garak finally round the corner, out of her line of vision. A hand settled on her shoulder. She shrieked in surprise and whirled to face Dukat. Gone was the daunting gray chest armor, replaced by a form-fitting black knit tunic which showed off his luscious neck ridges even more than the uniform had. The shirt ended at the waistband of a pair of matching black trousers which were so tight, Veronica could see the outline of each of Dukat's powerful muscles. The Cardassian had looked majestic before, but now virility poured off him in waves and Veronica realized he was wearing this delicious ensemble just for her. She did the only thing a woman with her upbringing in this situation could do. She fainted. --- "Julian gives the *best* tour of the station," Jadzia stage-whispered to Kayne. O'Brien, who had climbed out of Ops' engineering pit in time to see the doctor fall on his rump courtesy of Kamia's martial arts expertise, tried to muffle a snicker, but it didn't work. Bashir rocked slightly on his feet, hoping his face was not the same shade of red as Captain Sisko's uniform, and prayed desperately his former sensei would allow him some scrap of dignity. Obviously, Kayne's fondness for embarrassing him had remained unchanged as well. That little trick of swiping his feet out from under him secured the new security commander an everlasting friendship with the station's notorious practical joker, Jadzia Dax. Julian now knew exactly how Chief O'Brien had felt when Miles complained about Kira and Keiko constantly "ganging up" on him. The doctor waited for Kayne's humiliatingly flippant comment but it never came. Instead, Kamia bowed ever so slightly in his direction, her unspoken way of conveying she'd stop tormenting him, at least for now. The rest of the staff, still chortling over the "hilarious" reunion, sensed the game had ended, and Sisko began the meeting. "As you know, Starfleet wants to step up our presence in this sector, not only because of the Dominion," Sisko told them, "but also to remind the Klingons and Cardassians to play nice. There have been several reports of troop movements by both parties." "That could explain why Dukat is on the station," Odo grumbled and then looked over at Kayne to see if she recognized the name *and* what the Cardassian's presence implied. Kamia knew the changeling was staring at her now and knew what he wanted: some sort of confirmation that either she did know who Gul Dukat was or she didn't have a clue that the former prefect of this station and commander of the Second Order was on board. Given her behavior so far, Odo probably expected her to arrogantly show off her knowledge of the situation in true Starfleet Security fashion: blurting out details in a haughty tone. Kayne knew she couldn't verbally tell them she understood how important and potentially dangerous the Cardassian was or else she'd further alienate the being she had been assigned to work with. She opted to nod, a tactic that had always worked well with Benjamin Maxwell. Sisko noted her response and continued with the briefing. The only reasons the staff meeting had been called were to inform the command staff that Dukat was on the station and that she was the new chief of Starfleet Security for the station. While she was paying attention to what Sisko was saying, Kamia's concern was focused on her former pupil who was obviously upset about something. Kayne knew the look on Jules' face; he never hid his emotions from her well. He was always so expressive and passionate about everything he did. For Bashir to forget the *first lesson* of self-defense meant only one thing: girl trouble. During her three years as his sensei, Jules had more lovers than she had students and the relationships which lasted beyond the first date almost always ended disastrously. Kamia was embarrassed about the scene she had caused earlier; her intention had not been to humiliate him but to "celebrate" old times. Fortunately, the rest of the command staff had thought it was funny how she effortlessly swept his feet out from under him. Jules probably hadn't learned how not to be annoying just yet. "...Dismissed," Sisko's conclusion snapped Kamia back to attention. She shook hands with the captain, Major Kira, Commander Dax, Commander Worf and Chief O'Brien as they all said, "Welcome aboard." Odo was next, his handshake firmer and more curt than the others. Bashir was the only one who refrained. "Truce," she told him and grinned. Slowly, a smile washed over his features and he did give her hand a small shake, releasing it quickly so he wouldn't be drawn into another vulnerable position. "So, will you show me around or do I get to swap stories of your exploits with Commander Dax?" she asked cheerfully. Bashir bowed again slightly and motioned toward the turbolift; Kayne preceded him, smiling. Once inside, she turned toward Bashir and put both her arms around his shoulders, in a gesture more of affection than romance. "Sorry I embarrassed you, Jules," she told him. "I don't know, it's late, it's been a long trip... I must have been feeling a little punchy." "That's as good a term as any," Bashir replied, trying to look stern but failing. "I promise, no more lessons without warning. But I WOULD be interested in resuming your lessons, if you're interested - you always showed a great deal of potential." "Thank you, Kamia." The lift reached the Promenade deck, and the two stepped out. "Maybe later - I mean, after you've had a chance to get to know the place and get used to your new assignment." Kayne knew a "some other time" line when she heard one. "Jules, what's wrong? What's on your mind?" "Nothing. It's as you said, it's late, and I'm tired. But," he smiled charmingly, "not too tired to show you around a little bit." "I think you just wanted to get me away from Dax." "Is that so terrible? Maybe I just wanted you for MYSELF." He gallantly took her hand and led her to Quark's. --- Dukat scooped up Veronica's prone form and carried her inside the room, letting the doors slide closed behind him. He debated whether or not to call for medical assistance, then decided against it - he had seen this sort of thing before, more than once, and all Veronica needed was some rest and a little cool water on her face. Then, when she was suitably refreshed and more used to the situation, he could again try to insinuate himself into her good graces. He placed her carefully on the bed and dampened a cloth with water, then loosened the first few fastenings on her shirt and pulled it away from her neck. Interesting human skin, so soft and smooth and pinkish-beige - he allowed his fingers to rest for a moment more than was necessary on her neck, sliding his hand partially under her open collar. Just a little lower, and he'd be able to feel the gradual rise of her - he pulled his hand away. Gul Dukat did not need to amuse himself with unconscious females. He'd be able to amuse himself more than enough with her CONSCIOUS form, once he was able to revive her. He proceeded to gently stroke the cool cloth over her forehead and then down to her neck; her lips parted and her eyelids began to move as if she were dreaming. "What are you dreaming about, my angel?" he mused to himself. "Cardassians, perhaps? That loathsome tailor and his pathetic little shop? Or perhaps you're thinking of Cardassian MEN, men like me..." Veronica moaned slightly and turned to the side. Dukat placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, then let it drift upward and stroked her short blond hair, cut in an almost male fashion. He had always nurtured a fondness for such hairstyles - perhaps it was a reaction to the heavy, long, ornately-styled and almost garishly-designed hair of Cardassian women. This soft, healthy style was much more flattering, much more touchable, much more kissable... he leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on Veronica's hair, just above her forehead. Her eyes flew open. "Du - Du -" "Shh. Rest," he instructed her, continuing to hold the cloth against her forehead. "Nothing is wrong. You're perfectly safe - you just became a little lightheaded for a moment." Veronica raised her head and wildly looked about her. There was a great DEAL wrong - she was lying in Gul Dukat's bed, with her shirt unfastened, Dukat himself leaning down, almost reclining, next to her. It was late at night and no one knew she was here - no one except - "Garak!" she shrieked, and attempted to sit up. "I have to see Garak - it's very important - I -" "What can possibly be so important at this time of night? Correct me if I'm wrong," Dukat smiled ingratiatingly down at her, "but I believe you had an entirely different purpose in mind before your fainting spell. I believe you were about to enter my quarters." Veronica gulped. The Cardassian's neck ridges glowed in the dim lighting of the room, giving her an almost uncontrollable urge to touch them... how often had she stared at Garak's neck in just that way, how often over the past week had she wondered what those ridges and scales felt like, what reaction she would provoke if she gently touched one or squeezed one... and now here was Dukat, exposing almost every ridge there was to expose in his low-cut tunic. "Um - I'm sorry, I was simply coming here to apologize for threatening to call Security -" Dukat had picked up one of her hands and began to kiss her fingers, slowly and suggestively. She tried to pull the hand away, then froze. she suddenly realized. Dukat had leaned over her and was beginning to kiss the base of her throat, his lips moving lower and lower until - "I'm not ready for this!" she shrieked, clumsily sitting up and propelling herself off the bed. "I'm sorry - maybe another time -" He began to speak, but his words were drowned out by the sound of her rapid, panicked breathing. The door obediently slid open and Veronica vaulted into the corridor, crashing headlong into the chest of - Elim Garak. He took one look at her flushed face, disheveled hair, and shirt opened practically down to her waist and sighed loudly. "Garak! Mister Garak!" Veronica began, breathlessly. "I was - ah -" "Yes, I see. Good evening to you, Miss Carlson. I'll see you in the morning." "Good evening to you, Garak," she replied, then fled in the opposite direction, Garak staring after her. --- "Oh come on, don't be such a party pooper. Let's rent one!" Kamia Kayne giggled happily as she examined the inscription on another holosuite program rod. "Look - here's one that looks good - 'Peril at Sea.'" "No, Kamia, that one makes me seasick. I prefer -" "I know what YOU prefer." She picked up another rod. "'Springtime in Paris.'" "Yes, actually -" "No deal. I want something exciting, something to get my blood moving. Here - how about 'Escape From Rura Penthe'?" "No, absolutely not. I think -" "Doctor, Miss," Quark intervened impatiently, "please, make up your minds. I have a bar to run here." "All right. All right - we'll take -" Kamia closed her eyes and selected an isolinear rod, "THIS one!" Before Julian could protest, she grabbed his hand and dragged him up the stairs to the holosuites. He did try to shake off her tenacious hold to no avail so he demanded, "Which one is it?" She laughed, let go of him, and went over to the console, poking at it several times in an obvious attempt to find out where to insert the program rod. "Kamia," he prompted a bit louder and then a sudden burst of fear washed over him. Quark's programs were NOT run of the mill ones found on starship holodecks. If she had picked 'Vulcan Sex Slave', Julian would pry up a floor panel and crawl beneath it. Not that Julian Bashir had ever RENTED 'Vulcan Sex Slave' Parts One OR Two, but the idea of him and Kamia experiencing whatever sexual deviations the program offered was.... He didn't even want to THINK how it made him feel. He tried a different tactic to reason with her, "Quark's holosuites are a bit different than Federation holodecks. Here, let me..." "If I didn't know any better, Jules Bashir," she teased, "I'd say you're nervous." "Then which program did you pick? 'Kung Fu, the Legend Continues'?" "Sorry, young Grasshopper, not this time." "Please, not 'Highlander Meets Vader'!" "Ach! No, me laddie!" She giggled uproariously and tapped at the controls a few more times. The computer announced, "Program complete. Enter when ready." "Come on! Step lively!" Kamia called and charged into the holosuite. Reluctantly, Julian followed. He entered a small, semi-dark room with a table in the middle. On top of the table was a desk lamp which was the only illumination. An old-fashioned, reel to reel tape recorder was on the table as well and a man's voice echoed from the speaker. Kamia was still giggling like a school girl as the tape played. Julian's jaw dropped as he realized just which program she had chosen. "... your mission, should you choose to accept it. This message will self destruct in five seconds." --- He had already asked the computer for Julian's location twice. First, the doctor had been in his quarters and then in Ops. Garak sighed. No doubt the senior staff had been summoned to mull over possible devious reasons Gul Dukat was on their precious station. He'd doubt they would even CONSIDER the possibility Garak's rival was here just to torment the tailor. While Dukat's wooing the naive and virtuous Veronica Carlson was hardly clever, it did have the desired effect: Garak was angry. Oh, the tailor was far too refined to be upset that Dukat was having his way with her; Dukat's reputation in that particular department was near LEGEND on Cardassia and would probably be what the Gul's was remembered for. It wasn't that Veronica had seemingly "turned traitor" by entertaining Dukat's attention. The Gul's probably wouldn't tell her that Garak was his sworn nemesis either just because, knowing humans, Veronica would rally to Garak's defense just as Julian always did and would leave Dukat all alone. Garak was furious with himself for even allowing the sight of Veronica and Dukat to BOTHER him in the FIRST place. he chastised himself. If Garak had been a person of morals, he would have charged down the hallway the moment he heard sweet Veronica scream and snatched the poor dear from the clutches of his enemy. Instead, he continued walking down the hall and asked the computer where Julian was. He did, after all, have to apologize for his reprehensible behavior earlier; humans were so emotionally frail when it came to relationships. One wrong word here, one glance at a person who could be considered a contender for his affections and a human threw a petulant tantrum. Garak would just have to explain to Julian the nature of Cardassians. Again. When the computer informed him, "Doctor Bashir is currently in Operations," Garak sighed aloud. Going to Ops and publicly apologizing for his ill manners was something Garak did not want to do. Rather, he wanted to "kiss and make up," as the human expression went, in a way which would convince Julian that the human need not worry about Veronica. Veronica was simply his apprentice, an eager learner who listened rapturously to his every word and worked very hard to impress him. Garak paused and then laughed aloud. No wonder Julian had been jealous. Veronica and the doctor DID have something in common! Thinking about his blond-haired apprentice, Garak knew he had to at least make an effort to save her. He asked the computer a third time where Julian was and the computer told him the same thing as last time: Ops. Garak's decision was made: his reconciliation with Julian would have to wait until the doctor was finished with whatever business he had in Ops, so the tailor turned and walked down the hallway, back to G27. Just as he reached the door, Veronica burst out. She was disheveled, short blond hair tousled wildly, her blouse gaping open; she was panting heavily. It didn't take a member of the Obsidian Order to figure out what had been going on. When she slammed into him and realized who he was, she, just like every other human caught "red handed", tried to sputter out an explanation. He cut her off before she could embarrass herself further and bade her good night. She repeated his words before tearing down the hallway. Garak thought. "Veronica!" Dukat called with more than a hint of frustration in his voice and the doors opened. Garak, eyeing his long time opponent, couldn't help the humorous snort when he saw the Gul's's attire. "Ah! So THAT'S why she ran away. Frankly, I don't blame her. Dukat, honestly, a man of your age shouldn't be wearing such an embarrassing ensemble. Why, you remind me of the prostitutes in the Hotel Jaxixk but all of them were *much* more attractive, not to mention intelligent." "Oh, and I suppose she'd find your weak and flabby body stimulating?" Dukat shot back. "You haven't seen me naked," Garak returned with smile. "I'm quite the sportsman." With that parting comment stunning Dukat temporarily speechless, Garak headed to his quarters to shower and change. After all, when he met up with Julian he DID have to look appropriately penitent. Normally, it took him a mere five minutes to get ready, but Garak took longer. He'd rearranged his quarters, to which he hoped to bring Julian back this evening and properly apologize. After forty minutes he headed towards the Promenade. With luck, he'd be able to catch Julian before the doctor retreated to his quarters for the evening. "Computer," he asked as he stepped off the turbolift and onto the Promenade, "current location of Doctor Bashir?" "Doctor Bashir is in Quark's," the computer replied. Garak thought a moment and then requested the locations of the other senior command officers. All were in their quarters so there was no worry about Garak interrupting a dart game or anything else Julian usually engaged in with his fellow officers. No, Julian was probably pouting over a glass of Irish whiskey, that dreadful Terran alcohol on which the chief had gotten Julian hooked. He hummed a little tune to himself and triumphantly entered the upper level of Quark's. The sight before him stopped Garak in his tracks. Exiting the holosuite, almost falling over one another, was his Julian and... a woman Garak had never seen before. "My Grasshopper," she said to him enthusiastically and also very out of breath, "you were marvelous! Simply marvelous!" "Me?" Julian laughed as he gestured to himself. Kamia was not the type to dole out praise; one always had to earn it. A thirty minute romp in the holosuite hardly merited such a high compliment, but perhaps she was caught up in the moment. Then again, she always knew exactly what to say to him to get him to confess about what was bothering him. Flattery from her got her everywhere with him - or at least it had in the past. He rallied his resolve not to moan on about Garak's silly little reaction to Dukat and Veronica, knowing it would take him at least three hours to spell out the necessary background for the entire incident. The last thing he wanted to do was spend three hours talking about that particular person. "Heavens no! You were absolutely incredible! I've never lasted that long!" Kamia circled her arms around his waist and gave him a tight hug. "Oh, Jules... I can't tell you what it means to see you again!" "I've missed you too," he said honestly and returned her hug. He then became aware of someone staring at them. Julian looked up and found Garak watching the entire scene. Julian panicked. "G-G-Garak!" the doctor pushed the name past his frozen vocal chords. He felt Kamia drop her arms and could see her assuming a defense posture. "Y-y-you're back. Here." "I wanted to bid you good night, doctor," the Cardassian replied coolly. "Good night." Garak turned and walked away. "Garak!" Julian called but found he couldn't chase after his lover. Kayne had moved behind him and held on to both of his arms by his elbows. "Kamia!" he snapped and tried to shake loose, "let me go." Instead, he found himself whipped around to face her. Her face had transformed into that emotionless mask which always unnerved him. "Jules," she said slowly, almost too slowly, "HE'S the one you've been pining over all night?" Indignant that she thought she could arrive on the station and immediately start dictating his life after a nine year absence, Julian shot back, "It is none of your business." "It is TOO my business!" Kayne wailed. "I'm your FRIEND, Jules - you used to be able to tell me ANYTHING. Now, if something's bothering you, it's going to affect your work, and if there's one thing I've taught you, it's to never let personal problems affect your work." "I thought the main thing you taught me was never to relax my guard, not even for an instant." "True - this all goes together. Why don't you walk me back to my quarters, and we can talk about it?" Bashir considered the request. Kamia undoubtedly wanted nothing more from him than his company; then again, he had misled Garak once already, and if he should happen to spy them together, heading for the Commander's quarters... "No, I have to get back to the infirmary and - check on something." "Check on WHAT?" she laughed. "What can possibly be so important, at this time of night?" "Oh, you'd be surprised. I've been running several tests, and would like to observe the results..." "All right," she conceded. "Go and observe your results. I'll see you in the morning. I'm looking forward to the continuation of that tour you promised me." "Certainly. You shall have it." They had reached the door of Quark's, and he bowed and strolled off in the direction of the infirmary - his real destination was Garak's quarters, but Kamia of course was not supposed to know that. She probably didn't know where the infirmary was, either, but better safe than sorry. As long as he was passing so nearby, he decided to stop in anyway, just to see how things were going for his lone night assistant. He found him aiming a tricorder at the face of a young, blond-haired woman sitting in an examination chair. The woman took one look at him and gasped involuntarily. "Doctor Bashir," his assistant began, "I wasn't expecting to see you." The woman, Bashir immediately recalled, was GARAK'S new assistant, Veronica. She was staring at him with confusion, as if she had never seen him before. "Is something the matter?" he asked her. "You're Doctor Bashir!" "Yes - who did you think I was?" "I - I - don't know. I just didn't think you were Doctor Bashir. I had heard he was, well..." "Yes? You heard that he was what?" "Well... sort of like Khan." "Khan?" "Y -yes, you know - Khan Noonian Singh, adversary of James T. Kirk about a century ago, genetically enhanced super human, murderous, cold, and calculating..." "All right, I understand," he said, struggling to calm himself. "As you can no doubt see, I am NOTHING like Khan." He ignored the look of shocked amusement on his assistant's face. "My - enhancement - was very minor and no doubt completely unnecessary. Now. Why don't you tell me why you're paying a visit to the infirmary?" "Well... " Veronica looked slightly abashed. "It's just that I - think I fainted, earlier this evening. And I don't think I ever did that before in my life, so it bothers me." "I understand." He took the tricorder from his assistant's hand and pointed it at Veronica himself. "Hmm... nothing seems out of the ordinary. When did this fainting occur?" "About an hour ago, I think. Maybe less. I can't remember - I was a little upset." "I see. Well, where were you when you fainted?" "I was... near my quarters. In the corridor." "So you were lying in the corridor, alone? That's terrible!" "I wasn't - I mean, someone found me and - and then I came to, and I ran here." "Who found you?" Veronica was silent. She knew that this male model turned physician had seen her gambling in Quark's and she suspected he had seen her dining there with Dukat as well. She didn't like the fact that he was undoubtedly going to begin inferring more about her personal life than she wished him to - he WAS very attractive, after all, and she was by no means committed to pursuing a relationship with Dukat or Garak or anyone else. Not yet. "I don't know who it was." "Well, it doesn't matter. You seem perfectly fine. Shall I walk you to your quarters... Veronica?" "Why - certainly." Her heart sped up. Now she could gaze at this gorgeous man to her heart's content - he was quite a specimen. Not majestic like Dukat, not hypnotically sexy like Garak, but sensual and graceful in his own way... what a threesome. She beamed happily as she strolled along the corridor next to him. Good thing she had decided to stop in at the infirmary - this was a MUCH more pleasant way to end the evening. They reached the door of her quarters and paused. "So - will you be all right?" Bashir asked. Veronica nodded. "Perhaps I should make you a cup of hot tea - do you drink tea?" Veronica shook her head. "Well, drink it this time, anyway - it'll help you sleep." Bashir accompanied her into her room. A few doorways down the corridor, hidden in the shadows, Elim Garak watched the entire proceeding with a heavy heart and an enraged spirit - he could believe it of Bashir, three sexual encounters in one evening. But VERONICA? He had been so SURE she was a virgin, and yet she was enticing the doctor into her quarters after fighting off Dukat? Perhaps she was going to be paying Dukat another visit after all; with the way things were going this evening, he would put nothing past her. He angrily stalked to his quarters, then cancelled the door chime and fell into a sound sleep from which Bashir, futilely ringing the door chime twenty minutes later, was unable to wake him. --- "He has eight children, you know." Garak was folding squares of cloth with irritated, awkward movements. "Eight." Veronica, standing and helping him a short distance away, looked puzzled. "What are you talking about? WHO has eight children?" "He's married too, of course. And has mistresses, of course. Plenty of them. Know what they call themselves?" "Garak -" "Dukat's Women. Interesting, isn't it?" Y- yes, very." Veronica stared at him with trepidation. "Um - Garak, I was wondering if I should start recording the new shipment. In your office." Anything to get away from him, AND his strange, unpleasant mood, she reflected. "Yes, certainly. Go right ahead." He savagely threw a bundle of material onto a shelf. "They say he keeps a record of how many different species he manages to bed... Some people say the good doctor keeps a similar record..." "GARAK!" "Sorry." "I'll be in your office." She turned and fled, letting the door close completely behind her. She did very little actual work, so confused and upset were her thoughts, and thus when Garak entered the office and startled her, she nearly jumped a meter into the air. "Lunchtime, Miss Carlson. I'll see you in an hour - I'm going back to my quarters." "All right, Garak. See you in an hour." After he had gone, Veronica also left the shop; some instinct told her to head for Quark's rather than the Replimat. Perhaps it was because so many strange and interesting things seemed to be taking place there lately. Perhaps it was because she had found two extra slips of latinum in her pocket that morning, latinum she hadn't even known she had, which would feed the dabo wheel VERY well. And if Garak was going to be in his quarters, there'd be no way he'd find out about this. Quark's was fairly busy, even for a lunch hour, but Veronica entered anyway and headed for the gambling area. A familiar, a VERY familiar, voice stopped her in her tracks. "Veronica! How nice to see you so soon." It was Dukat. "Please - do me the honor of joining me for lunch." "I - I -" "Please, I insist. In fact, I was hoping very much that you would turn up - I had planned to have my lunch in one of the holosuites, and your company would enhance the experience tremendously." Veronica didn't know much about the holosuites, but assumed they were mostly used for sporting programs and outdoor activities, on such an isolated space station. Yes, it might be nice to eat her lunch outdoors, under an open sky, with perhaps the sound of birds and other animals to soothe her. She was not so terrified of Dukat that an innocent lunch invitation could scare her away. It WAS the middle of the day, after all, and in Quark's, not alone in her room... "Yes, I'd love to join you," she said graciously. Dukat bowed and led her to the holosuite, then took a program rod out of a hidden pocket and inserted it into the slot. The doors parted, revealing, not an outdoor scene, but the dining area of a very large and very posh alien building, possibly a hotel. Dukat led her to a table in the center of the floor. "I would like to change into something more appropriate to this place," he smiled, much to Veronica's confusion. "Please excuse me." "Dukat!" she called after him, "what IS this building?" "This is the Hotel Jaxixk, my dear. Very famous on Cardassia Three. Particularly popular with - female guests such as yourself." He reached the doorway of a small anteroom. "I'll be right back. In the meantime, just relax and order something to drink. The program has been adjusted to that everyone will speak Standard." He disappeared. Veronica smiled up into the face of the Cardassian waiter who approached her table - she thought, --- Kamia hated to pace. It wasn't her style. It was the one thing Benjamin Maxwell always liked about her: she didn't prowl around the bridge or the ship when she was angry or aggravated. She just stood at her post and did her job, scaring the hell out of the rest of the crew. On Deep Space Nine, however, she didn't have a security post in Ops. She didn't have an office. Barging in and commandeering Odo's office wasn't an option; she needed information from the changeling, details that weren't contained in the reports filed, and invading his territory was NOT the way. The scene last night outside of Quark's holosuite still haunted her. Jules had looked positively stricken over Garak's departure and that could only mean one thing. The doctor had come up with some excuse about the Infirmary and to his credit he had stopped by there. Kamia, of course, had covertly followed him, and had been surprised when Jules left the Infirmary with that blond-haired woman. Jules hadn't changed a bit. When his heart got broken by one, Jules Bashir went right to the next conquest although he HAD been a bit TOO gallant while escorting the woman to her quarters. Otherwise Jules would have noticed the shadowy figure lurking in the corridor. Now, it was 1100 hours and the changeling STILL hadn't shown up in Security. She growled, walked the entire length of the Promenade twice before she finally spotted the gangly form of the chief of security. Trying hard not to run across the Promenade to him, she sped up her pace and joined him as he passed by Quark's. "Good morning, Odo," she said. The changeling looked down, obviously annoyed, and grunted, "Good morning, commander." Kamia didn't want to broach the subject in public; it was a conversation which was best done in private, especially with all the hoopla surrounding Jules' genetic enhancement. They stopped in front of the Security office, Odo waving her inside so she entered first. She moved to the chair in front of Odo's desk while the changeling circled and sat down in his usual seat. "You want to talk about something," Odo observed drily. Although she knew her usual charm wouldn't work on such an impervious soul, she smiled anyway. "I wanted to compliment you on your records. They're quite thorough." "Thank you, commander," the changeling said almost sarcastically. "But there's something else you want to know." "Garak." Odo snorted. "What about our plain and simple tailor?" "What's his relationship with Jul.. Doctor Bashir?" "They have lunch together twice a week." "And..." "That's it, commander." "And you don't see that as a threat?" "No, commander." She blinked a few times, surprised at what she was hearing. "So, a former member of the Obsidian Order...." "Rumored member, commander," Odo corrected. "There is no evidence he was." She harrumphed, "Look, station security is your business, but when it comes to Starfleet officers dallying with...." "Dallying?" Odo repeated with bemusement. "Commander Kayne, I know what you're driving at. You're concerned Doctor Bashir is giving away precious Federation secrets to Garak. Believe me, he's not. I've listened to their conversations on several occasions. They talk about literature. They talk about art. They talk about the differences between Cardassia and Earth. Harmless debates, commander, and simple exchanges of cultural information. I thought you would have more faith in your former student." "He's changed since we last met, Odo," she replied stiffly, stinging from the comment. "You're looking for another Michael Eddington, aren't you?" Odo asked. "No." "Commander, I know all about your relationship with Eddington," the changeling told her with a smirk and swivelled his chair around so his back was to her. "At least you have something to chat about with Captain Sisko. Good day, commander." Humiliated, Kamia stormed out of Odo's office, angry she allowed the shapeshifter to put her on the defensive. Her concern for Jules was genuine as was her concern over his relationship with the Cardassian tailor. Clearly, Odo had decided to ally himself to Jules, so Kamia had to get the information she needed elsewhere. She calmed down as she rode the turbolift to Ops and casually sauntered over to where Dax was working at the science console. The Trill brightened when she saw her. "Good morning, commander," Dax called out cheerfully. "Good morning," Kamia responded. "How was your tour last night?" Jadzia asked with a wink. "Well, he led me straight to Quark's," she laughed and waggled her eyebrows, "and proceeded to show me the delights of the holosuites." "He didn't upload 'Springtime in Paris,' did he?" "Commander, I was his sensei for three years," she grinned. "I know better. I got to choose." "We don't have to be so formal. Please, it's Jadzia." "Kamia." She paused and eyed the Trill a bit closer. "He didn't try THAT program on YOU, did he?" "Let's just say," Jadzia blushed slightly, "that he was a very persistent suitor." "I HAVE to hear this story," Kayne enthused. "How about lunch, in Quark's? My treat." "I NEVER turn down a free meal!" As they made their way to the Promenade and Quark's, the two officers chatted about Cardassian architecture, Chief O'Brien's never ending battle to get Cardassian computers to work with Federation equipment, and the current state of politics. Once they had settled into a quiet corner of Quark's, Kamia leaned forward and said, "The most interesting thing happened last night when Jules and I exited the holosuite." Jadzia's eyes widened and she nodded for Kayne to continue. "The Cardassian tailor... Garak, was there. Jules acted mortified he'd been 'caught' leaving the holosuite with me." "Garak's pretty possessive about Julian," Jadzia told her. "Ever since their imprisonment on that rock by the Jem'Hadar. Worf wouldn't tell me the exact DETAILS, but the doctor and the tailor became close." "You've been around, Jadzia," Kamia said, "and you know all about Starfleet policies and procedures." "I know what you're driving at, Kamia," the Trill assured her. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. Trust me." Kayne thought to herself. "I did feel sorry for him, though," Kamia admitted after a few moments of silence. "It's not the first time he's been involved in a comedy of errors. Sautome Tendo was possessive of Jules and vice versa. When Sautome began spending more time with Akane because the poor girl just wasn't cut out for martial arts, Jules became jealous and had an affair with Nibiki. Sautome found out and that was the end. Jules moped for weeks. It was awful. I don't want him going through THAT again." Jadzia suddenly grinned. "I have a plan, Kamia. It's a plan so clever you can put a tail on it and a call it a weasel!" --- Dukat ambled back over to Veronica's table, where she sat sipping her fruity non-syntheholic drink and gazing wide-eyed at all the scantily-clad Cardassian men roaming the area. Dukat was dressed in an outfit similar to the one he had worn the evening before, except that the tunic was now a deep red with an angled black design that seemed to point directly to his trousers. He smiled charmingly. "How is your drink?" "Oh, it's - it's fine." She took another sip. "Um... you mentioned that this was a very popular hotel on Cardassia." "Yes it is. Very popular." "Well... forgive me if I'm not phrasing this correctly, but there's something 'odd' about this place." "Odd? In what way?" He slid into the chair across from her and stared into her eyes. "All the other customers are women. All the waiters are men. You'd think a hotel this popular would have a mixture of both sexes." "I told you the hotel was very popular among WOMEN," Dukat corrected her. "Most Cardassian men are uncomfortable with the idea of men serving women in this way. The hotel owners, on the other hand, saw a need and - filled it." He changed the subject. "So. What shall we order?" "I recommend the lokah salad," a waiter suddenly proclaimed, unexpectedly appearing behind them. "It's very fresh this afternoon - really has a kick." "Why, thank you for informing us," Dukat replied. "Two servings of lokah salad it is." The waiter obediently disappeared and Dukat took both Veronica's hands in his. "You'll really enjoy this dish - almost everyone does." "What's in it?" "Meat." Veronica made a face. "Meat? A salad made of MEAT? I don't think -" "Just try it." Dukat leaned across the table, till his firm cheek rested warmly against Veronica's own. "I would never offer you something that I wasn't sure you'd absolutely love." Veronica shifted uncomfortably. Dukat released his hold on her hands and sat back down in his chair, still smiling at her mysteriously. The salads arrived, and, true to his word, they were composed of many different pieces and textures of dried meat, nothing else. Veronica raised a forkful to her lips with trepidation, then began slowly to eat. "This is actually very GOOD," she said, surprised. "Of course it is. I saw how much you enjoyed your steak - I knew this dish would also appeal to you." "It does - it most certainly does." She ate with enthusiasm. "Yes. Maybe you see, now, that I know what you like, Veronica. I know the kinds of things that will appeal to you, that will make you happy, that will - excite - you." Veronica again shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Mr. Dukat," she began, staring him in the face, "is it true you have eight children?" He looked only mildly surprised. "Who told you that? Garak?" "Yes." "He is correct. I have eight children, seven of whom are back home on Cardassia." "Oh." Veronica continued to eat. She hadn't expected such a forthright reply to her question; she had been so sure he would deny her statement and then immediately change the subject. She didn't quite know how to continue the conversation any more - she was unaccustomed to asking strange men such personal questions. So SHE changed the subject. "How much longer will you remain on DS9?" "A few more days." He continued to eat in silence; Veronica followed suit, but couldn't help noticing that all the other tables in the strange hotel dining room were quickly emptying. It appeared that the waiters were clearing the plates and then leading the women off somewhere - Veronica watched one couple disappear through a doorway. "Where are they all GOING?" "Who?" "The waiters. And the customers. Everybody's finishing lunch and then leaving together." Dukat smiled. "Ah, so you've discovered one of the more 'interesting' features of this place. After serving the meals, the waiters massage the guests." "WHAT?!" "It's a Cardassian custom." Like HELL it is, Veronica thought, beginning to rise from her chair. These holosuites were evidently NOT so innocent after all - just how stupid could she BE? "Please, Veronica," Dukat was saying, "please do me the favor of honoring this custom of ours - didn't you say you're studying Cardassian business practices? Well, this is a Cardassian business practice." "No, I don't think it is. I think -" She screamed as Dukat circled around the table and lifted her into his arms. Two other waiters hurried over and helped carry the woman, thrashing and protesting, toward a doorway. Veronica was not really frightened, but was adamantly resisting her captors nonetheless - Dukat's hold felt so good and reassuring, but this was not time or the place to be engaging in this sort of activity - "Would you PLEASE let me GO!" she shouted again; she had been carried into a small, ornately-furnished room and placed on a couch. One of the waiters was peeling off his shirt while Dukat and the other man were engaged in pinning Veronica's thrashing arms and legs down. "This is just the thing you need to prepare for a long, boring afternoon at that 'tailor' shop," Dukat grimaced with distaste. "A relaxing massage, administered by competent hands - competent Cardassian hands, kneading the muscles all over your body -" Veronica closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. There must be SOME way to end the program and signal for help... but for now, Dukat's hand stroking her shoulder was a little distracting - and now one of the other men was starting to unfasten her shirt - she stretched. Suddenly, she felt the hands withdraw as a familiar voice called out, "I've seen you resort to ridiculous tactics before, Dukat, but NEVER have I seen such blatant desperation." She opened her eyes. Garak was striding into the room, dressed in the same revealing tunic that the other men were wearing - two of them, anyway. The shirtless one was facing Garak, a confused expression on his face. "Entek?" Garak laughed. "You actually dared to program him into this?" "It was enjoyable, reducing members of the Order to male - waiters." Dukat grinned. "Was it?" Garak grinned back. "All right, fair enough. Miss Carlson, you've been promised a massage, and you're going to get one. Stand back, gentlemen, and let the master go to work." He approached the couch; Veronica hid her face in the pillow, too shocked even to move, too full of hope to even consider such an action. --- "...absolutely not. Furthermore, I *demand* you release me." "You, Mister Garak, are in no position to demand anything." Garak snorted, "I can see where Doctor Bashir gets his passion for espionage programs." The petite Asian woman smiled as she circled the chair to which he was handcuffed. "Who do you think *sent* him those programs, Mister Garak?" The tailor didn't reply; he was busy keeping an eye on his unwelcome guest. The entire situation was quite humiliating. He, after all, was an agent of the Obsidian Order and exiled or retired or not, being bested by a Starfleet officer was the most detestable thing. But with Garak's luck lately, this little scene shouldn't really be surprising, at least to him, and it was his fault, after all, that this little woman managed to knock him unconscious and then truss him up in his own chair. When he had stormed back to his quarters for lunch, he had known someone was inside. After all, any run of the mill spy would have sensors to detect such an intrusion. Yet when he had walked into his warmer than station norm, dimly lit quarters, he had thought he knew who was paying him a visit. There was only one person on the station who wore the cologne (aptly named) Obsession and the distinct scent hung in the air, as if Julian had just doused himself with it and was waiting for Garak. He had been so pleased Julian had decided to be penitent, he had dropped his guard and that blundering error had resulted in his current predicament. The woman had seemed to appear out of nowhere and landed two solid blows to his neck ridges. The pain had been excruciating, enough for him to howl in defiance and immediately put him on the defense, but it had been too late. The woman had pressed a hypospray to his neck and had emptied the contents into his bloodstream. The last thing he had seen was the female Starfleet officer wearing the mustard colored collar of either security or engineering and sporting three solid pips on her collar. The one who had made Julian "last longer than he ever had." When he had awakened, the woman had changed into a solid black, one piece jumpsuit which showed off her well-toned physique. She had told him her name, Kamia Kayne (an obviously European name which didn't match her Oriental features), and that she wanted information. "Miss Kayne," Garak had sneered, "I am a plain and simple tailor. If you would like the latest fashion advice, I'd be more than glad to offer some. Black is definitely out this year." She had only laughed. She had then massaged his neck ridges, had apologized for hitting him so hard, and had demanded he tell her all about himself. That was five minutes ago. "Mister Garak," she whispered and suddenly his mind rocketed to the present. Her delicate hands were on his ridges again, "I'm sure you know who I am." "I'm afraid not." "Please, Mister Garak," she chided, "don't make this harder on yourself." He let out a dramatic sigh, wondering why in the UNIVERSE humans insisted on these silly, idiotic dramatic scenes. On Cardassia, interrogations were rather straight forward. Humans, on the other hand, seemed to revel in going over the top. She wouldn't last a second in the Order and Garak knew he could outlast any of her childish whims. Garak played along, as if he were acting out one of Julian's holosuite spy programs. "You exited the holosuite with Doctor Bashir last night." "That is correct." She smiled again. "I think you have the wrong idea about me." "Oh?" "I am Jules' sensei." Garak thought about the term for a second, thrown off by the fact she used Julian's "old" name, the name the doctor hated being called. Then, the meaning of the word clicked in. A sensei was a martial arts instructor and that explained how Kayne had been able to best Garak so quickly. Yet the tailor remained silent, realizing this human, despite her expertise in hand to hand combat, wasn't too bright. Just as in the holosuite program, Kayne would no doubt launch into an explanation of just why she was doing this to him. "Jules is forever jumping to conclusions," Kayne purred as she continued to circle around Garak. The tailor hoped if she kept walking around, she'd get dizzy enough to sit down and he would have time to shimmy out of the handcuffs. "And I think it's a trait you share with him. Jules and I were simply playing out a holosuite spy program. It's quite fun, really, and it was a program he'd never been able to solve until I helped him. I thought climbing to the roof of a speeding train and jumping onto a ladder dangled by a helicopter was quite obvious, but, well... Jules just thinks too logically sometimes. "But when you caught us... Poor Jules. He went chasing after you, you know, but I stopped him. It's my fault, really, you had to witness Jules' gallantry towards your assistant, Veronica," she said before she stopped in front of him. "Nothing happened between Jules and myself and nothing happened between Jules and Veronica. He never pouts like that unless he is totally committed." Suddenly, she straddled his lap and Garak's eyes widened in indignance. "Madam, I protest! This game has gone on far too long! I demand you release me!" "Or what? You'll call security? Mister Garak, I AM security!" she told him triumphantly. "Or do you want Odo morphing in here to find you in such a... vulnerable position? No. I think not. It's that Cardassian pride of yours which stopped you from calling for security in the first place." Garak glowered at her, tugging at the cuffs to no avail. He'd have to give her credit for the way she had him bound. It was impossible for him to work his hands loose without moving the rest of his body. But to have this woman sitting on his lap and facing him was too much. Then, she did the oddest thing. She reached up and pulled out the two ivory sticks which had held her hair in the neatly coiled bun. Her black hair tumbled down, past her shoulders. "It seems I have to teach you both a lesson," she said sagely as she wriggled in Garak's lap again. "Hmm... Jules is my Grasshopper and you shall be my...Komodo." "Komodo?" Garak repeated, wondering just how many CRAZED Starfleet officers there were and why they ALWAYS seemed to be in Security. She leaned closer and whispered against his lips, "It's a type of lizard, the strongest and the most noble of them all. I couldn't call you Lizard or Iguana now, could I?" He didn't bother with an answer. "Now, I've rented a holosuite. You're going to be there. Jules is going to be there and the two of you will be there together. You will not argue. You will not accuse each other of infidelity. Do you understand?" "Yes, I do." She eyed him closely. "I wish I could believe you, but my years in Starfleet make me distrustful." She held up the two ivory sticks for his visual inspection. "These are incentives." "Incentives," Garak repeated, unsure of just WHERE this woman was GOING with this train of thought. "These are ancient martial arts weapons used by ninjas," she explained and then grasped the end of an ivory stick with one hand while the other held onto the shaft. Gently she pulled the two pieces apart, revealing a thin metal blade coated with an oily substance. "This, my dear Mister Garak, is kishevel." Garak's eyes widened. "And this one," she told him and repeated the same movement with the other stick. It too had a fine blade dripping with liquid, "is vaktoo." "Please," Garak found himself begging as he realized just how dangerous this insane woman was. "No! For the love of the Great Gul, NOOOOOOOOO!" --- "... absolutely not. I don't have time, Jadzia." He didn't trust her. He never trusted her when she came in to the Infirmary smiling like that and with her hands clasped behind her back. She had something planned. He knew it. Even if Odo had NOT stopped by ten minutes earlier and said, "It seems Commanders Dax and Kayne are hitting it off quite well," Julian would have recognized the devilish glint in her eyes. "She wanted it to be a surprise," Jadzia continued, ignoring his protest, "but I told her the last thing you needed was another surprise. Commander Kayne said the program came all the way from Hong Kong on Earth." "I don't have TIME for a holosuite adventure," Julian told the Trill testily, "especially while I'm on duty." He turned away and stalked back to his office, wondering why EVERYBODY decided HIS personal life was THEIR business. "Maybe I SHOULD move in with Miles," he muttered to himself. "At least HE will sympathize with my situation." "To think she went through all that work and latinum just to convert 'Raiders of Zanatos' so it would run in Quark's holosuite," Jadzia called out wistfully. The name stopped the doctor in his tracks. That program was IMPOSSIBLE to get! Julian had spent three years trying to track it down with no luck but KAMIA had managed to get a copy AND convert it to work with Quark's system. He knew it was bait. He knew Jadzia had deliberately withheld the program's name until the last possible second because she KNEW he wouldn't be able to resist the lure. The program itself was LEGENDARY, one of the best and most notorious action adventure programs there ever was. Julian reasoned. He came out of his office to find Jadzia waiting for him, grinning widely. "I THOUGHT that would get your attention," the Trill said. "The holoprogram is already running." Julian practically ran to the upper level of Quark's. When he arrived, he cursed himself for not asking WHICH suite Kamia had reserved for him, but he was too eager to see the program to call down to Quark. The only holosuite activated was Number Four. Without even checking to see WHICH program was running since Kamia wouldn't DARE lie to him about the program since otherwise he'd never speak to her again, Julian straightened his uniform and walked in... and found himself in the lobby of a posh hotel. Julian blinked a few times, surprised at the distinct Cardassian architecture, and suddenly was unnerved. This wasn't "Raiders of Zanatos." Although he'd never run the program, Julian knew what the plot was and knew about certain scenes, NONE of which took place on Cardassia. "I'm going to kill her," Julian growled as he imagined taking on Kayne and then remembered Jadzia had been part of this as well. "Kill them both...." he amended. This wasn't funny. This wasn't funny at all. And when you had two women, who just happened to be sadists AND high ranking officers, wanting to play a practical joke on him, there was absolutely NOTHING he could do except bear this burden. Then he heard the moan. He didn't want to enter the small room to his left. He knew better. He knew Kamia and Jadzia had probably programmed such a sick and demented scene it would be forever burned into his mind. Curiosity was going to be the death of him, but Julian just HAD to find out WHO was moaning. He rounded the corner, pushed open the heavy, red velvet drapes, and held back the strangulated cry of horror. In the middle of the over-decorated room was a plush couch. Lying face down on the couch was a very naked Veronica Carlson. Stroking Veronica's hair was Gul Dukat, wearing only a towel. Those images he could handle. Those images he could lock away in some dark corner of his mind. But to see Garak gleefully massaging Veronica, cooing sweet words to her in Kardasi as he worked scented oil into her creamy skin, was too much. To make it worse, Garak wore an outfit the Cardassian NEVER modeled for him, garb which was skin tight and incredibly sexy. "Ah, Veronica..." Garak said wistfully, "you have such a lovely body. I am glad I can provide this service for you." It was too much for Julian. He stormed out of the room, not caring if Dukat or Garak or Veronica saw him. He was infuriated. He was going to hunt down Kamia and make her pay! The doors to the holosuite opened and the two women were standing outside, arguing. "Five minutes!" Kamia snapped. "He was supposed to go in there in FIVE minutes, not NOW!" Bashir shouldered them out of the way, not trusting himself even to SPEAK yet. He was momentarily stunned at the sight of the very two women against whom he had just sworn deadly vengeance, but reasserted his composure, nodded curtly, and ran down the stairs to the first level of the bar. "Jadzia," Kamia worriedly proclaimed, "I've got to get back to Garak's quarters. IMMEDIATELY. Because, if what I THINK is going to happen actually HAPPENS..." She left the sentence unfinished, then turned on her heel and also headed for the stairs, Dax close behind her. In the holosuite, Garak was continuing to massage his willing and much more relaxed assistant, who had nearly fallen asleep and thus had not noticed Bashir's brief and horrified appearance in the parlor. Dukat, of course, HAD noticed it, but decided that Bashir, believing he was witnessing the real Garak, would thus never imagine that he was instead seeing the actual Dukat, surrounded by holograms. What wonderful inventions these holosuites were, and how realistic he had been able to construct Garak - once 'Garak' had calmed down and agreed to take part in the fantasy, Veronica magically calmed down as well and enticingly allowed herself to be undressed and draped across the couch. Just a few moments more, and Dukat would take Garak's place in the oiling-Veronica's-skin department; then he'd remove his towel, climb up onto the couch behind her, slowly lower himself over her delectable pink skin... he felt a very definite stirring in his groin and decided to act on it immediately. As he reached out to push the holographic Garak out of the way and take his place, the shimmering of a transporter filled the little chamber. Veronica, with her eyes still closed, listening to 'Garak's' sweet Kardasi phrases, paid no attention to the new development. Dukat, however, stared in horror as a figure materialized directly in front of him - it was the figure of a man, bound to a chair, struggling madly against his bonds. The figure was Garak. Dukat took one step toward him, then froze. Garak's blue eyes were wild with passion as he twisted and cursed, perspiration trickling down his forehead; he began to shout, also in Kardasi, and Veronica's eyes flew open. "Garak! Oh my God, it's GARAK!" she shrieked, pulling a blanket against her chest as she raised herself up on her elbows. "Why is he - Garak! Is that really you?" "Of COURSE it's me - I've been deceived - I've been abused by that vengeful little BITCH who's been chasing after Bashir." Veronica's hands began to shake with fear. She had never heard Garak talk this way, never heard him use quite that tone of voice. "And I see I've been abused here, too." He stared in disgust at his lasciviously-attired alter ego, standing a meter or two away near the opposite wall. "Did you enjoy him, my dear? Did he please you?" "Garak, I -" She awkwardly pulled the blanket around herself and tried to slink over to the pile of discarded clothing in the corner. Garak fixed her with a murderous gaze. "Never mind. I realize you're not to blame. Dukat was undoubtedly planning to conquer you completely, using every pathetic means at his disposal." Dukat began to speak, but Garak never even glanced at him. "Come over here, my dear, and free me from these restraints." Veronica, as if hypnotized, began to move toward him; Dukat lurched forward, nearly loosening the towel around his waist in the process. "NO! Don't go anywhere NEAR him!" he barked. Garak's head whipped around and he faced Dukat, letting loose a shower of Kardasi obscenities as he did so. Veronica hesitated, then again crept toward the bound Cardassian. "Damn it, Veronica, I said NO!" Dukat shouted again, grabbing her arm. "This man has been pumped full of kishevel - and probably some vaktoo for good measure, given the way he's perspiring. He's restrained like that for his own good. The person who frees him will find herself - well, let's just say your virginity would come to a rapid and violent end." Garak continued to scream curses, his face almost dark gray in his agony. Veronica stared at him, horror mingling with some of the most incredible anticipation she had ever known. But Dukat was right - this was not the time or the place to be exploring these activities with her employer. Who knew what sort of retribution she'd face, as well, after Garak had recovered from the mysterious drugs and was free to ponder his behavior. She shuddered, and drew the blanket more closely against her body. "Now - why don't you just get dressed, and leave everything to me," Dukat purred, placing his bare arm around her shoulders. Veronica flinched - Dukat WAS still wrapped only in a towel, after all, which he had claimed was the standard costume for masseurs at the Hotel Jaxixk. She reached into the pile of clothing for her trousers and leaned over to slide them back on, under the blanket, then turned her back to Dukat and did the same thing with her shirt. Dukat had gone over to stand, amused, in front of his wildly thrashing holosuite guest. He began to speak in Kardasi, but every so often would switch to Standard, undoubtedly for Veronica's benefit. "This will wear off in an hour or two, Garak," Dukat began, chuckling. "Then you'll be back to your old self again, none the worse for wear." Garak screamed something at him. "Ah, yes, it IS rather uncomfortable, isn't it? I have no doubt that your present state of distress was meant to amuse the good doctor - did you know he made an appearance here, not ten minutes before you arrived?" Garak screamed again. "Well, he saw your double and must have believed it was you. Pity, really; that would have been a wonderful tension-reducer." He folded his arms and regarded his 'prisoner' with a smile; Veronica backed away from them, then flew through the hotel lobby and out the door. She collapsed, panting, at the foot of the stairs, to the amusement of Quark's dabo patrons who had seen her enter the suite with Dukat earlier. She grinned sheepishly. Inside one of the massage parlors in the Hotel Jaxixk, Dukat was trying to return Garak's chair to an upright position, from which it had fallen when Garak began to thrash a little too wildly. The reason had undoubtedly been the gentle caresses Dukat had begun to administer to his neck ridges. "Well, I'm sorry, Garak," he told the incoherent man, "I was just trying to make you a little more comfortable." Panting with the effort of lifting Garak's heavy weight, he didn't notice that one of the handcuffs had clicked open from the force of Garak's struggles. He set the chair back on its legs and stood and observed the prisoner once more; Garak had mysteriously stopped struggling and seemed to be fumbling with something behind his back. Dukat smiled evilly. He turned and dismissed the holographic Garak; he wanted to be alone with his adversary so he could continue his mocking taunts without distraction. The sudden push from behind left him completely breathless; the towel was whipped off him and he felt himself slammed to the floor. "Veronica!" he shouted, as if THAT would do him any good - he and Garak were now completely and horribly alone. --- Bashir heard Kamia calling after him. He ignored her. He tuned out her voice as she chased after him down the Promenade and to the habitat ring. Exasperated, she finally yelled out, "Julian Subatoi Bashir! Atten-HUT!" Automatically, he halted and snapped to attention. It was one of the few times Kamia Kayne ever invoked the voice of command, that tone his fellow classmates had dubbed, "The Voice of the Goddess." Kamia caught up to him and faced him. "What happened?" "You want me to DESCRIBE it?" he snapped, all fear of the Goddess evaporating as he remembered his ire. "Oh, Sensei Kamia, I must commend you on your practical joke THIS time. I actually BELIEVED you were doing something NICE for me." "You arrived five minutes early," Kamia explained with a helpless gesture of her hands. "Whatever you saw was NOT was you were supposed to see." "And just what was I SUPPOSED to see?" "I'm sure you've heard about the one scene in 'Raiders of Zanatos'... the one with the handcuffs... the chair and the..." "Yes yes yes," Julian interrupted impatiently. Kamia's face filled with guilt. "I... I... I enlisted Mister Garak for that particular scene...." "Enlisted?" Julian echoed and then realized what word Kayne had left out of the sentence. His heart stopped. She hadn't said "help" which meant she had coerced Garak into the scene. "Kamia... where is Garak now?" "In his quarters..." "Handcuffed to a chair?" he prompted. Kamia nodded reluctantly and her eyes dropped to the deck plates. "You didn't..." Julian couldn't even finish the sentence, terrified she had done what he thought she had done. Kamia simply shrugged her shoulders. The thoughts began to tumble in his brain. "Then Garak wasn't in the holosuite just now." "No," she answered. "Computer, current location of Gul Dukat?" Julian called out. "Gul Dukat is currently in Holosuite Four." Jadzia shrieked in surprise; Kamia's eyes widened with sudden terror. Together they nearly shouted, "Hotel JAXIXK?!?!?!?!?" He didn't know what that particular exclamation meant and he frankly didn't care. Julian was worried most about poor Garak at the hands of his former sensei. Another detail popped into Bashir's mind as he recalled Jadzia's and Kamia's argument earlier. "You said five minutes... what was supposed to happen in five minutes?" Kamia finally met his eyes, "I had it set up so the transporter would beam Mister Garak into the holosuite." "What time is it now, Kamia?" The petite woman glanced at her wrist chronometer. "Oh my GOD!" It wasn't a sight often seen: three unarmed Starfleet officers tearing down the corridors as if chased by a horde of Klingons. Yet Julian, Kamia and Jadzia raced through the Habitat Ring with blinding speed and arrived at Garak's quarters. Julian charged in first, darting around the main room in frantic search of Elim. The tailor was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Elim's favorite chair. "Kamia...." Kayne looked at her watch. "We've got another three minutes." "Kamia," Jadzia said suddenly, "you said your last mission was on Vulcan?" The security chief gave an affirmative nod, but was clearly confused. The Trill then said very slowly, "Did you remember to reset your watch to BAJORAN time? We're two hours FASTER than VULCAN time." Kamia screeched and smacked herself on the forehead. Julian grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her as he said, "No... you didn't beam him in to where..." "COMPUTER!" Kamia yelled, "Security emergency! Lock on and beam us directly to Holosuite Four!" "Unable to comply," the computer told them. "Security procedure not recognized." "Computer!" Julian tried, "Medical emergency! LOCK ON AND BEAM US DIRECTLY TO HOLOSUITE FOUR!!!!" "Unable to comply," the computer told them. "Site to site transporter lockout enabled. Station commander authorization required!" The three officers looked at each other, knew they couldn't contact Sisko, and raced off to the holosuite. --- "Here, drink this." Surprised yet grateful, Veronica accepted the drink from the Ferengi bartender. "You know," the Ferengi continued, stroking his earlobe, "you lasted longer up there than expected. You made me quite a little profit." "Profit?" Veronica repeated as she sipped the sugary drink. She knew to be wary around Ferengi but this one didn't act like ANY Ferengi she had ever met. "The station's regular gamblers took bets on how long you would be with Gul Dukat..." the Ferengi trailed off and glanced at the wall chronometer. "One hour, three minutes. You lasted an hour longer than expected. He must really like you. Either that..." the Ferengi then nudged her, "or you're REAL good. If you know what I mean." He laughed to himself. "I'm Quark, proprietor of this fine establishment." "Veronica Carlson." "Yes, I know. You're Garak's assistant," Quark told her with a sharp smile. "I have a proposition for you... Now before you shake your head 'no,' just listen. I realize you had enough work in restaurants as a waitress, but you've NEVER tried your hand at being a Dabo Girl, have you? Ah. I thought so. With such a pretty young face and such a... well formed physique you could make a fine Dabo girl, Veronica. You even have the perfect name... Veronica... It rhymes with 'harmonica...' Harmony...." Before Quark could finish his dissertation, three Starfleet officers burst through the doors of the bar and dashed up the stairs, shouting incoherently at one another, and all headed toward Holosuite Four. That was where Dukat... and Garak... were. Veronica had to follow.... --- Julian charged into the holosuite, yelling Garak's name. "IN HERE!" came a strangulated cry. "HERE!!!!!!!! BY THE GREAT GUL'S IN HERE!!!!" "That's Dukat..." Jadzia said absently as she and Kamia stayed closely behind Julian. The two women followed Julian to the anteroom and stared in shock at what they saw. A naked Gul Dukat... a naked Garak... and a couch between the two. Dukat looked panicked, there were a number of welts and bruises decorating his gray skin, and the room looked as if it had just been through an earthquake. "GARAK!" Julian shouted. The tailor turned, a crazed look in his eyes, and he instantly pounced upon the doctor. Kamia and Jadzia, however, were awestruck by Dukat. Both of them whistled appreciatively and nodded to one another. "I think you'd better reserve the holosuite for a few more hours, Dax," Kamia said but her eyes were focused on the Gul's who, relieved his enemy had more important things to do than to attack him, now began to pose for them. At least, the positions he was assuming LOOKED like poses. In actuality, he was trying desperately to reach his discarded towel, about two meters away from him on the floor, while at the same time revealing as innocent a view of himself as possible. He was no fool - Veronica would not be impressed as much as horrified at the sight of his naked Cardassian body. But, after all, such a reaction would be only natural for a woman like her; Dukat accepted it and approved of it, with only one reservation - it was proving to be virtually impossible to reach his towel without exposing more of himself than he cared to, to the three women. He saw Veronica avert her eyes. Good. The Asian woman and that infernal Starfleet Trill were staring with unabashed curiosity, however, and he didn't like it. "Would you please hand me a towel?" he barked impatiently; Dax finally roused herself enough to comply, her eyes barely straying from Dukat's midsection. In the next room, the sounds of Cardassian growling and human moans of pain were becoming louder and more insistent. Veronica and Kamia turned and glanced with trepidation at the doorway. "What's - what's going on in there?" Veronica asked fearfully. "I mean - maybe Doctor Bashir is getting hurt -" Dax walked over to the doorway and peeked into the room. "There IS an antidote to these poisons..." she said thoughtfully. "We could call one of Julian's assistants." The sound of tearing clothing was heard again. Dax's eyes widened at the scene she was witnessing; Kamia felt herself move almost involuntarily toward the doorway as well. "No, Jadzia, that won't be necessary. Poor Jules, I think, will be able to take care of himself - the violent effects of the kishever begin to dissipate as soon as - satisfaction - is imminent." "But what about the vaktoo?" Kamia said nothing, only smiled enigmatically. Veronica, trying to keep her eyes from the doorway and occasionally failing, exclaimed, "But what about DUKAT? Look how badly he was beaten!! How can you say that Bashir is SAFE? I think we ought to call Odo." Kamia thought, She smiled to herself. Dukat had managed to retrieve and don his uniform, in the meantime, and approached the three observers from behind. "To answer your question, Veronica," he growled, "satisfaction was NOT imminent for Mister Garak. In fact, I think this entire scene is one best left to your imagination." He placed a protective hand on Veronica's shoulder as she turned toward him. "I'm not - unaware - of what's going on in there, Mr. Dukat." "I never said you were. I just feel there are more appropriate ways for you to increase your knowledge." He smiled imperceptibly. "But it appears this will all have to wait for another opportunity. I'm scheduled to leave for my ship in an hour, Veronica. Will you walk with me to my quarters, so I can say good-bye?" "Certainly." She took his arm, then glanced at him in surprise when he gasped slightly with pain. "Did I - hurt you?" "I'm a little bruised, yes, but nothing to be concerned about. Let's go." Veronica held on to his arm as they exited the holosuite and slowly hobbled down the stairs, to the puzzled confusion of Quark's patrons. Quark watched the scene with interest - this Veronica woman was incredible; anyone who could reduce Gul Dukat to such a state was not only to be commended but almost feared... he'd have to have another talk with her about possible employment... Upstairs, in holosuite four, Kamia and Jadzia were still hovering in the doorway, staring with fascinated awe at the activity in the room in front of them. "We really ought to stop watching," Jadzia proclaimed uncertainly. "I mean, I'm sure they wouldn't like it if they knew..." "Nonsense," Kamia proclaimed much more decisively. "We have to make sure Jules doesn't get hurt - or that Garak doesn't hurt himself - or that -" Her eyes widened. "My my my, I never thought Jules was that flexible." Jadzia said nothing. "He was never able to kick as high as he should have - maybe if our warmups had been a little more - invigorating..." She suddenly winced in sympathetic pain, as the moans and growls in the next room grew louder. "Well, one thing's for sure," Jadzia began distractedly, her eyes never leaving the scene in front of her, "none of them are going to forgive you for this." There was a sudden shout and she brought her hands up to her ears momentarily. "Why do you say that?" Kamia asked, releasing her own hold on her ears. "I mean, they're certainly - enjoying - themselves." "DUKAT was not enjoying himself. Not at all. He could register a protest and make things rather difficult for you here." "Oh, I wouldn't worry about Dukat," Kamia smiled enigmatically. "I was observing the situation pretty closely - I have a feeling what happened here will work to his complete advantage, and quite soon too." Dax allowed herself a quick glance at Kamia's smiling face, then smiled herself as sudden understanding dawned; then both women ducked as a Starfleet boot was thrown in their direction. In the corridor leading to room G27, Dukat continued to shuffle slowly and painfully ahead, his weight supported by the concerned Veronica. "I don't care what you say, Mister Dukat. I think we ought to take you to the infirmary. You've been beaten pretty badly." "No, no, I'm fine," he gasped. "It's just - these scrapes - and bruises - are so painful on my Cardassian skin. The scales, you know." No, Veronica DIDN'T know, but had seen enough of his body to have observed all the marks and welts Garak had somehow managed to give him. "I'll be fine after I can soak in a - oh, I forgot - after I can take a quick sonic shower." "After you can soak in a WHAT, Dukat?" she asked. "A bathtub?" He nodded, timidly. "But my quarters don't have a bathtub, Veronica, only a sonic shower - which is certainly more efficient and just as soothing." He groaned slightly in pain, as his limp became more pronounced. Veronica thought for a moment, then came to a decision. "Dukat. My quarters have a bathtub." "They do?" he said weakly, turning hopeful eyes to her. "Yes, they do. A nice, large one. You're welcome to - come back to my room with me and use it." "Oh, I couldn't impose on you that way. That's a very personal thing, letting someone use your bathing facilities." He continued to hobble toward his room; Veronica stopped him. "It's fine, really. I would like to offer that to you. I feel somewhat responsible for your injuries, in a way." "How so?" he asked, as they turned slowly and began to walk in the opposite direction. "You had NOTHING to do with Garak's arrival in the holosuite, or with his mental state. I'm not precisely sure WHO was responsible for that, but it most certainly wasn't you." "But... but I should never have left the holosuite when you told me to, and sat downstairs drinking soda - I should have gone for help. And now look at you. You can barely walk, and you're supposed to be back on your SHIP in an hour." Dukat remembered to groan again. "I'll be fine. I'm a Cardassian - we have a remarkable capacity for self-healing." Veronica slightly loosened her hold on his arm, as they reached the doorway of her room, and he began to sink down to the floor. "Dukat!" she called out, alarmed. "I think I ought to contact the infirmary!" "No, no," he said, holding up his hand to stop her, "just get me to that bathtub and let me soak. I'll be as good as new in an hour." She helped him into the bathroom, which was much plainer and held a much less luxurious bathtub than his own - how unbelievably fortunate that Veronica had not been in his quarters long enough to have seen it. "Now, just sit down in the tub - that's right. Here's a towel. Start handing me your clothes, and then I'll fill the tub and you can stay here as long as you like." Dukat began to fumble with his clothing. "I'm afraid I can't quite manage - my arms are so sore..." Veronica knelt down next to the bathtub and looked at him uncertainly. "I guess I could help you..." "Thank you, Veronica." He reached out his arms and guided her into the tub, then groaned at appropriate intervals as she helped pull the shirt over his neck. The trousers gave her slight pause, but he reached down to unfasten them and she began slowly pulling them down past his legs; he covered himself with the towel, as his haste in the holosuite meant he was not wearing any underwear. Veronica leaned over him and adjusted the temperature of the water, then started to climb out as water began to fill the tub. Dukat took hold of her arm. "You're not leaving?" he asked with a slight tremble in his voice. "Y- yes," she said, hesitating. "I need you to help me. To wash my back. There's no way I can reach it." He was pleased to see that the water was enhancing the dark color of his bruises, making them appear much more dramatic than they really were. Veronica had obviously noticed them too. "Well... I can reach your back from outside the tub." She didn't move. "True, but... there's something I didn't tell you. Please don't laugh at me, Veronica." He cast fearful eyes toward her. "What is it?" "Garak - frightened - me this afternoon. I can't stop shaking. Please - hold me." Veronica hesitated, then leaned down and gathered him into her arms as the warm water swirled all around her clothed body. Dukat offered to help her remove the wet clothing and she agreed, then resumed the embrace. Dax returned later that day to her quarters directly below Veronica Carlson's, to find water dripping down from the ceiling in her bathroom. She was about to contact her neighbor, but realized that the room upstairs was most definitely still occupied by two people. Smiling, she closed the door and decided to clean up the damage the next morning. --- "You know... you didn't need to do that to Garak," Julian admonished, although there was no mistaking the self-satisfied smile and VERY satiated look on his face. "Do what?" Kamia asked innocently. "The kishever and vaktoo?" he prompted. "Garak hardly needs encouragement in THAT particular department. You should have used it on ME...." "Oh Jules... JULES...." she shook her head sadly. "You didn't scan him, did you? You just took his word about what I did to him." Julian stared at her for a few moments. "Meaning?" "Meaning Garak... well... let's just say...." She paused dramatically and looked him straight in the face, "With someone of Mister Garak's 'rumoured' background, I'm surprised he was so susceptible to the power of suggestion. It really is amazing what a placebo can do, Jules... It really is." "A placebo?" Bashir gasped in shock. "Then Garak was never really affected at ALL? Then all that chasing after Dukat, all that... other stuff... in front of you and Dax..." Kamia nodded, trying to suppress a smile. Bashir fell silent for a moment, then grinned. "Ah - sensei... do you mind if I borrow those hairsticks tonight?" --- The End