On Vacation

by  Linda Larson

"Are we there yet?"

Kira bit back a sharp retort. They had been walking down this dark,
uneven forest path for four hours now, and Bashir had asked the same
question every ten minutes for the past three hours, punctually. It
was beginning to get on her nerves in a major way. This time, however,
the doctor continued his tirade.

"I can’t believe I let you talk me into this! A four-hour walk, in the
middle of the night, and it’s raining, and we aren’t even allowed to
bring a goddamn flashlight…"

"As I remember, Doctor, *you* were the one to wax poetic about the
delights of Risa," Garak said archly. "Not to mention the chance of
visiting this ‘marvelous cultural preserve’, as you so quaintly termed
it. No modern technology permitted. Real food, live music, water
showers…" The tailor broke off abruptly as he stumbled on a loose rock
and narrowly avoided falling on his face.

"No hovercars," Bashir grumbled. "No communications gear. I even had
to leave my commbadge at the shuttleport! What’s Sisko supposed to do
if there’s an emergency while we’re here?"

"Make do without us!" Kira snapped. "He said he would, remember? In
fact, he specifically ordered me to go on a relaxing vacation with the
two of you! And then you had to drag me into the very back of beyond…"

"That wasn’t my fault! If you’d…"

"As much as I hate to interrupt this fascinating conversation," Garak
said, doing exactly that, "I believe that house a little further down
the road is the visitor’s hostel." He pointed to the left, where a
yellow light flickered among the dripping branches. "Wouldn’t it be a
splendid idea to get a good night’s sleep, and sort out this little
dispute in the morning?"

Grumbling and bickering, the trio made their way up the path toward
the house.

*  *  *  *  *

"What do you mean, there are no rooms? We reserved them two weeks ago.
There must have been some misunderstanding…"

The little green alien at the counter cringed and whimpered under
Kira’s angry stare.

"So sorry, madam. The computer, it crashed last week, must have
forgotten…"

"So what are we supposed to do? Sleep under a bush?"

"Oh no, oh no, I will arrange beds, sirs and madam wait here…" The
alien scurried off, leaving the wet and exhausted travelers standing
in the lobby. Kira and Bashir busied themselves with squeezing the
rainwater out of their uniforms, while Garak sank down in a chair,
muttering to himself in Kardasi. From what little Kira was able to
pick up, she was just as glad that she didn’t understand the rest.

Presently the little creature came scurrying back, with another just
like it in tow. After spouting apologies for another minute or so, it
gestured toward the stairs. "There is room in upper corridor, with the
one bed. Just for tonight. Will be sufficient?"

"Oh, well, I suppose you two could share it," Kira sighed. "I’ll just
go and find myself a nice, big bush…"

"Oh, no, is couch in suite, just this way, is all arranged with
occupants." The alien puffed itself up proudly, obviously impressed
with its own powers of organization.

"Well, in that case, the bed will do for me and Garak," Bashir said
between yawns. "After all, what’s a little cuddling between friends?"

Kira snorted to herself as she watched the doctor and the tailor amble
off, led by little green alien No.2. Those two certainly did more than
cuddle, at least if station rumor was even remotely accurate…

Alien No.1 was tugging at her sleeve and making shooing motions
toward the stairs. She followed it through what seemed to her
exhausted mind to be an endless labyrinth of stairs, corridors and
halls. Once, they passed a room in which some kind of drunken party
was taking place. In the din of voices spilling out into the corridor,
she almost thought she heard… //Stop it, Nerys. You may be about to
fall over from exhaustion, but there’s no call to go hearing voices.//

Finally, they seemed to have reached their destination. To Kira’s
great relief, the suite was empty. She certainly didn’t want to face
strangers in her present condition.

The place had a rather strange layout, she noted. The main room seemed
to be the bedroom. It was dominated by a large, raised bed which was
currently in a state of near-terminal disarray. The sheets were
tangled, and a familiar, musky smell filled the room. Whoever occupied
this room, there was certainly no need to speculate about the nature
of their relationship… The smaller room to the right was a sitting
room, with what appeared to be a quite comfortable couch. The alien
fussed around for a few minutes, pointing out the bathroom and laying
out blankets on the couch, then scurried away; scurrying seemed to be
its preferred method of locomotion.

Alone at last, Kira quickly stripped off her sodden clothing, dried
herself off and, in deference to the other occupants of the suite, put
on a light sleeping robe. For a moment, she thought about calling room
service for a sandwich and raktajino, then decided against it; she’d
probably fall asleep in the middle of her meal, anyway.
Sighing with pleasure, she snuggled down among her blankets and fell
into a deep sleep.

*  *  *  *  *

She was rudely awakened by a noise in the outer room. Groaning, she
turned over and pulled the blankets over her head to shut it out. The
sound only increased in volume, however, and soon Kira’s sleep-fuddled
brain was able to identify it as a deep male voice, crooning in some
unintelligible language and hitting notes the Bajoran Institute of
Musical Arts had never heard of. //Oh, great, Worf’s been into the
blood wine again…//

As her head cleared further, she realized that it could not, in fact,
be Worf; she was on Risa, in someone else’s hotel room, and the
station’s resident Klingon was light-years away. She pushed back the
covers and rose onto her elbow to greet her host…

"NO!" Kira’s scream cut off the so-called singing abruptly, as she
stared at the figure framed in the doorway. She was suddenly wide
awake, but her mind still whirled. It was impossible, but there it
was. The lean, long-limbed body… the ridged face… the grin, as smug as
a dying vedek…

"Why, Major, how very nice of you to drop in!" Dukat exclaimed in
obvious delight as he took in her briefly dressed figure.

*  *  *  *  *

In one prodigious bound, Kira was out of her nest of blankets and
standing up with her back to the opposite wall, fervently looking
about for some kind of weapon. That statuette would have to do…

Grabbing the fragile porcelain figurine and hefting it like a club,
she faced the grinning Cardassian with as much of a threatening stance
as she could muster.

"If you move so much as one inch closer, Dukat, I’ll…"

Dukat seemed unmoved by her attempts to scare him off. "Really, Major,
you should try to be a little more polite. After all, *you* are the
one standing in *my* room in your nightdress. It’s a very… attractive
nightdress, by the way," he added, with the usual lecherous smile.
Kira gaped incredulously at him.

"*Your* room? What in the Great Abyss are you doing on Risa, anyway?
Aren’t you supposed to be back on Cardassia, leading the Alliance from
Hell?"

Dukat only smirked. "One of the advantages of being the absolute ruler
of Cardassia is that I can take a vacation whenever I feel like it -
and after almost a year of chasing around the quadrant, fighting
Klingons and negotiating secret treaties, I definitely needed one.
Weyoun can handle all the minutiae of rebuilding Cardassia, I assure
you."

Kira had just opened her mouth to reply when she heard a loud crash
and thud, as of somebody falling over a piece of furniture, from
behind Dukat. The noise was closely followed by a groan and a string
of truly obscene Kardasi curses.

"Oh, dear," Dukat sighed to himself, then: "Damar, will you please try
to keep your feet? And moderate your language - there *is* a lady in
here, you know!"

"What?! Dukat, you *promised*…" Kira’s second least favorite
Cardassian struggled to his feet and poked his head through the
doorway to see what was going on. He seemed even less pleased to find
that Kira was the female in question.

"Now, there’s no need to be upset…"

"That’s what you always say! I only have to glance at anyone else and
you pout for days, but *you’re* allowed to jump on anything that moves…"

Dukat put a comforting arm around his first officer’s shoulders. "The
major simply needed a place to sleep tonight. Her presence won’t
interfere with our… activities… in any way, I promise." He smiled
reassuringly; after a moment, and another glare at Kira, Damar
returned it.

Kira’s mouth fell open as the latinum finally dropped. "You mean the
two of you are…"

"When the Gul’s schedule permits," Damar grumbled, earning a
mock-indignant glare from Dukat.

"That tongue of yours is going to get you into trouble someday,
lover." Dukat tapped a finger against the tip of Damar’s nose for
emphasis. "I certainly think it could be put to better use than
slandering your commanding officer." Grinning wickedly, he pulled
Damar with him toward the bed. "Pleasant dreams, Major…"

*  *  *  *  *

//Pleasant dreams indeed! I might as well try to sleep in Quark’s
during Happy Hour!// Kira thought sarcastically. At least the cries of
passion filtering in through the (now securely closed and barricaded)
door had drowned out the rustling as she slipped back into her soggy
uniform. She was not about to spend a minute more than necessary shut
in this room with two Cardassians, much less *those* two Cardassians.
And she certainly did not want to listen while they… She firmly cut
off that line of thought. She was leaving, to spend the night under a
bush, if necessary.

Of course, leaving might not be as easy as all that. The sitting room
had no window, and no air-ducts that she could see; the only way out
would be through the bedroom. Which would mean being a witness to…
that. Kira felt her cheeks burning, for no reason at all. She had
certainly seen her share of Cardassian depravity during the
Occupation, so why should this be any different? Still, she told
herself, it was not the most pleasant view one could wish for.
Besides, who knew what those two would do if she walked in on them in
bed? They certainly wouldn’t be embarrassed about it - not them! - but
there were numerous other possible reactions. For a moment, Kira had a
vision of two pairs of scaly Cardassian hands tearing at her clothes,
pushing her to the floor…

She shook her head briskly. It wasn’t going to come to that. All she
had to do was open the door and dash right out through the bedroom,
out the door, and down the corridor. If they hadn’t locked the door…
well, she’d have to cross that bridge when she came to it. Gripping
her bag securely in one hand, she placed herself next to the door,
with her back to the wall, to wait for the right moment.

*  *  *  *  *

Finally! After the better part of an hour, the noise had stopped.
//Maybe they’re asleep. Now’s my chance.// Kira eased the barricade of
furniture aside as quietly as possible, then slowly opened the door,
tensing her muscles for the dash to freedom…

She darted through the door, and froze in her tracks.

//They look so sweet,// she thought absurdly, looking at the entwined
bodies on the bed. Dukat was sprawled on his back, with those long
limbs spread everywhere. Damar’s head rested on Dukat’s shoulder; one
of his arms was wrapped possessively around the other’s waist. The
moonlight falling in through the window made Dukat’s scales gleam like
silver; Damar was a shade darker, a smoky gray. Dropping her bag, Kira
moved closer and bent over the bed. She gazed avidly at the sleeping
pair, taking in strong, smooth-scaled bodies, silken black hair,
ridged faces. She had never known that Cardassians could be so
beautiful, or that they could look so peaceful, or smell so dizzyingly
sweet…

//Pheromones,// her mind warned her. //I really shouldn’t…// What it
was that she really shouldn’t do was lost as her eyes fell on Dukat’s
groin. This time, her flush was provoked by something light-years
removed from embarrassment. He was impressive, to say the least. A
pity that Damar was lying on his stomach; she would have loved to see
if he met the same high standards.

"Nice, isn’t it? And it’s all mine…"

Kira turned her head very slowly, lest it accidentally fall off, and
found herself staring into a too-familiar sneer. This time, it had a
shade of smugness that made it even more insufferable than usual.

"What makes you think I’m jealous of *you*?!" she spat, leaning over
and poking a finger into Damar’s chest for emphasis. "I’m not
interested in *any* part of your precious gul, much less his…"

"Genitals," Damar supplied, his sneer transforming into a full-blown,
mocking grin. "Or perhaps you were thinking of some less… ladylike
word?"

"There’s no need to argue about it." Dukat stretched languidly,
obviously pleased with the situation. "After all, I’ve got enough for
both of you."

Kira had to stop herself from hitting him; then, out of the blue,
another thought struck her. She turned her head to meet Damar’s eyes
again.

"He’s very sure of himself, isn’t he?" It was a statement.

"Very," Damar replied flatly.

"Excessively so?"

"You ought to know."

"Well, as a former member of the Resistance, I know a number of ways
to deflate a Cardassian’s ego." Kira nodded toward Dukat, and smiled
evilly. "Would you like to try?"

Dukat pushed himself up on his elbows, now looking more than a little
concerned. "Just a moment… mmmph!"

*  *  *  *  *

Dukat couldn’t remember when he’d last felt this humiliated. Being
tied to a bed and gagged was no great news to a man of the world such
as himself, and having Major Kira conduct a thorough examination of
his body had long been the stuff of his fantasies. But those fantasies
had certainly never included having Damar leaning over her shoulder,
pointing out the most interesting spots like some kind of tour guide.

"He’s very pretty." Kira reached out and tousled his hair as she
spoke, grinning mischievously. If he hadn’t had a wad of cloth stuffed
into his mouth, Dukat would cheerfully have bitten her fingers off.
"But I’d really like to find out if that pretty thing works as
advertised. After all, if he’s going to boast, he’d better have the
means to back it up, don’t you think?"

"Oh, in that respect, he does. I’ll show you." Damar trailed his
fingers over Dukat’s groin, tickling and rubbing at the smooth scales.
Dukat moaned behind his gag, wishing for the first time that his lover
had been a little less skilled in finding his most sensitive spots.
Kira’s attentions had stirred him despite his best efforts at
self-control; now, his member began to stiffen and swell under those
light, maddening caresses.

"Yes, you like that, don’t you?" Damar bent his head and punctuated
each word with a flick of his tongue against the head of Dukat’s sex.
"I’ll bet it’s not so nice right now, though. You always want to be
the one in charge, don’t you, Dukat?"

Dukat could only moan helplessly, writhing and tearing at his bonds in
a futile attempt to escape. He was fully swollen now, and his
excitement only increased when Damar moved away and Kira took his
place, exploring his genitals with the same avid attention she had
given the rest of his body. Then, just as the pleasure started to
build toward climax, the infuriating woman sat back and grinned down
at him.

"Now, Dukat, you should be a little more patient. You’re not the only
one who wants to enjoy himself, you know."

*  *  *  *  *

This, Dukat decided, was torture beyond the greatest vileness the
Obsidian Order could devise. Just as he had begun to think that this
wasn’t so awful after all, his tormentors had apparently lost interest
in him. Instead, they had adjourned to the other room, where, by the
sound of it, they were busily enjoying each other’s company. He was
left quite alone, not to mention painfully aroused, to listen to the
sound of his lover and the woman he’d desired for years having
passionate sex in the next room. He couldn’t decide which of them he’d
murder first.

"For someone who prefers other men, Damar, you sure know how to please
a woman." Kira’s voice cut through his vengeful reverie. "But I think
poor Dukat must be getting lonely out there. Shall we go and see how
he’s doing?"

Within seconds, the two of them were bending over him again. Kira was
now as naked as the day she was born; Damar, the treacherous vole,
wore a grin that threatened to split his face in two. Kira bent down
to pull the gag from his mouth, and Dukat drew a deep breath,
preparing himself for the tirade of his life.

"I wouldn’t." Kira squeezed his erection lightly between her hands,
making him gasp. "You’ve done quite enough shouting and bullying for
one lifetime, thank you. In fact, I think I’d like to hear you beg for
forgiveness. Then, if you do it well, I’ll do something very nice for
you. How about it?"

Dukat opened his mouth to tell her just what she could do for him; to
his great surprise, all the wrong words seemed to come out.

"Please." He was shocked at the pitiful sound of his own voice.
"Please, let me go…"

*  *  *  *  *

Bashir leaned back in his chair and sighed contentedly. He’d had a
good night’s sleep, breakfast had been excellent, and now he was
sitting on a sunlit terrace, enjoying a glass of vintage Saurian
brandy. The unpleasantness of last night seemed a long way away.

"Ah, Julian, there you are." Garak sank into the chair opposite him.
Bashir smiled; for some reason his lover seemed even more cheerful
than this lovely morning warranted.

"Are you going to tell me, or are we going to have another of our
little guessing games?"

"Well, just this once…" Garak grinned. "I had a most pleasant dream
last night."

"About me?"

"Not this time - although you do figure in many of my nicer dreams.
No, this was something quite different. Not a dream, really, so much
as an impression." The grin widened. "I thought I heard Dukat’s voice,
begging for mercy…"

*  *  *  *  *

The End