TURMOIL
By Mimi

CHAPTER 5

The trip back to DS9 was pretty uneventful, as far as Kira was concerned. The exercise appeared to have gone well, and as far as she could see, if giving the Cardassians an insight into a different way of fighting was a goal, it had certainly achieved that. If it was to give the regular troops a chance to extend themselves with an unfamiliar foe, it seemed to have been a success, as well. Nevertheless, she was not familiar with how their echelon evaluated such exercises and knew, bureaucracy being bureaucracy, that it would quite possibly be forgotten quickly.

The only fly in the ointment appeared to be the apparent loss of some real explosives from the tally at the end. The ‘terrorists’ had been successful in ‘stealing’ some chemicite for their use, and she had supervised the blowing up of a weapons depot, something that Dukat seemed to relish planning and executing, and which appeared to have been met with much sputtering and indignation by the other senior officers at the review of the day’s activities. However, as far as the loss of the chemicite was concerned, Dukat privately seemed to dismiss the discrepancies as being mistakes and miscalculations, perhaps based on incorrect assessment of how much had been ‘taken’ and used in the first place, and Kira didn’t take much notice – after all, it wasn’t her problem.

~~

She asked to see him in his quarters after work the evening after they’d docked. The gesture was not lost on him. Till then, he’d always made the first move. He gave extra thought to the evening, organised Bajoran food, wanting to make it obvious he appreciated her gesture.

She arrived looking a little stiff, a little reserved, and when he stepped forward to embrace her, she put her hands on his shoulders, half-distancing herself.

She looked up at him with intent, but he couldn’t fathom what she wanted to say.

‘Dukat!’ she started, too loud, cleared her throat, started again. It made him nervous. ‘Could we have dinner first?’

He deflated, laughed, and ushered her to the table. He tried to think of what to say as she watched him pour their wine, serve the food, pick up his utensils. She sat, hands in her lap, waiting. Something neutral, he decided.

‘How was your day?’

‘Oh, fine. I had my routine medical today. I was a bit overdue…and I needed my vaccinations.’

‘For what?’

‘Well, I’m off to Bajor tomorrow. I’ve got leave.’ She looked at him. ‘Only four days, Dukat. Don’t worry, I’m not going to be away too long.’

‘You never mentioned this before.’

‘I’ve just decided I need the time, Dukat. As a matter of fact, I wanted to think about us, in a place I was happy in. So I’m going down to my special place on the Halana River.’

He was silent. Then,

‘I thought we’d come to a sort of…comfortable acceptance of our…us.’

‘Yes. But I’m not sure I can let myself be comfortable, Dukat. I’m not sure if I’m being true to myself at the moment. It’s very nice…’ She suddenly saw his eyes, so full of emotion in the alien face, and she added the rest in a whisper. ‘actually…no-one’s ever made me feel like this before…it’s…wonderful…but I have trouble with you making me feel like this…it seems wrong.’

‘What, exactly, do you think is wrong, Colonel?’

The use of her title hadn’t escaped her. She knew he was erecting his defenses, distancing himself.

‘After all, we wouldn’t be together if …if this hadn’t happened, would we. After all, it’s just a physical thing.’

She nearly flinched at the reaction from him. Without moving a single muscle, he seemed to erupt in cold fury. His voice dripped venom.

‘ "Just" a physical thing…What, precisely, have you bothered to find out, Colonel? Do you really think we feel this way purely because of some uncontrollable primitive physical urge? Do you think, just because…the physical…side of our relationship is so good, that that’s all that it’s about? Have you really bothered to examine how you feel, Kira Nerys? Because I can tell you – this didn’t just happen by random chance, nor did it happen because I happened to lust after you. What we have is a gift, Kira Nerys. It doesn’t just happen to every couple with some sort of emotional and physical relationship.’

He was silent a moment, while she looked at him, astonished. She didn’t want to deal with any complications now.

‘This won’t just be dismissed, Kira. It won’t be denied.’

Her pride won through. She lifted her chin.

‘Then, you have to let me go away, Dukat, to give me time. I need the time, Dukat.’

He was silent, then his eyes softened, and he barely nodded.

‘You must do as you wish, my dear.’ He got up to the replicator.

It was her turn to be silent, then wistful.

‘Why do you do that to me, Dukat?’

‘What is that?’ He had returned with a glass of kanaar. So unlike him to drink something out of keeping with what he was eating.

‘You…use that tone of voice…when you’re hurt or angry. It sounds like when you were Prefect. It’s so..paternalistic…patronising.’

He froze a moment, before sitting down.

‘Nerys,’ he began.

He gripped the stem of his glass so tightly, she could see the knuckles pale against the gray skin. His eyes glittered.

‘You’re right. I am angry. How else do you expect me to react?’ He drew a breath. She could feel the dangerous tension in the set of his jaw, the tightness round his mouth, the fullness in his ridges, the tautness of his muscles.

‘Understand, this is everything to me. Perhaps all I have to live for. I will not let this go easily, Nerys. I have enough fight for both of us.’

‘Dukat, I won’t be controlled by you!’

He brought his glass down on the table so hard the base shattered. They stared at it till, trembling slightly, she took the glass from him, stood, and took it to the recycler.

When she returned, he hadn’t moved.

‘Nerys…I’m not trying to control you,’ he finally whispered, ‘Nor should you feel our bond controls us.’ He stared at the shards of glass left on the table, reflecting silently on how easily, he saw, he could shatter her trust, her confidence, her emerging love, by trying to hold it. He had already shown her so much of himself. He was unaccustomed to making himself so vulnerable, even to one he loved, but he saw that he needed to, now. She needed to see that she, too, was in control, as much as he was. She needed to know before she left him.

‘There’s something I must give you before you go.’

He stood, moved to his bedroom, returned with a small elongated box which he placed in front of her.

‘You once told me Cardassians don’t have a word for "sorry". I tried to tell you we express it in action as much as in words.’ He gestured to the box. ‘Please…open it, Nerys.’

She would be a fool not to divine its importance. Half unwilling, she took up the box, opened the lid, unraveled the silken wrappings inside. Then she simply stared at what was nestled there.

‘This…is…so…beautiful.’

Then she looked up at him, before lifting it and laying it on her palm. Recognition flooded in on her, for despite the unusual style, the slender, light links so at odds with tradition, all the prescribed elements were there.

‘Dukat… this is a pledge bracelet.’

She looked up at him, tears suddenly spilling from her eyes, aware, suddenly, that his eyes were very bright, too.

‘Please. Take it for now. Think about it. You can always return it later. At least, take it, and know how I feel.’ His voice was low.

She couldn’t speak. If she accepted it, by tradition, she would wear it. She also understood his intent. He meant for her to understand that however she felt, these were his feelings for her. She stared at the glowing blue stone in the middle of the bracelet, set in an unusually-marked setting. Rodinium, tougher than any other substance known. The blue stone, the colour of his eyes.

‘What are the characters, Dukat?’

By tradition, that central link symbolised the giver. He hesitated a moment.

‘They’re…part of my family crest.’ He smiled a little at her expression. ‘Oh, yes, we have a crest. A bit old-fashioned, but we still hang on to it.’

She was silent so long, he began to get nervous. He started to talk, to try to tell her again not to worry, just to take it, think on it. But she stopped him with a movement and a smile. Slowly, she offered the bracelet back to him. His heart was in his mouth, but his hand crept, unwilling, forward. As she passed him the bracelet, her fingers touched his, and she whispered…

‘Could you help me put it on, please?’

~~

He threw himself into his work the next two days, trying not to think about them. There was a lot to catch up on after his two weeks away, and detailed analysis of the exercise on Cardassia to be, in turn, analysed and commented on, not to mention maintenance on his ship to oversee.

On the third day after she’d left, Tella came to his office with a PADD, not bothering to signal his entry. That should have told Dukat something. He raised his eyes, stared at him. Uncharacteristically, it did not intimidate Tella.

‘Sir. The Bajorans have asked us to comment on the analysis of a large explosion down in the Dakhar Province, about an hour ago.’

Dukat stretched out a hand for the PADD.

‘Oh, I see. The spectrographic analysis suggests it’s Cardassian military issue, does it. Could be old stockpiles, I suppose.’

‘Well, no, sir. It’s got traces of ionic particles from Prime, suggesting it’s come straight from Cardassia recently.’

His mind was at lightening speed, already.

‘How much do you recall we missed during that training exercise, Tella?’

‘1.3 kg, sir.’

‘Hmmm…and this explosion could account for, say, just under a kilo.’

‘I think so, sir.’

‘Can you chase that angle, Tella?’

‘Of course, sir. There’s another thing, sir.’

‘What is it, Tella?’

‘A body was incinerated in the fire after the explosion, sir. It’s been beamed up here for identification.’

‘Here? Why here?’

‘It had a Starfleet issue Com. Badge, on it sir. And apparently wearing traces of clothing which could have been Bajoran military uniform, sir.’ He watched his Legate’s face, knowing he had to go on. ‘They say the Com. Badge was Colonel Kira’s, sir.’

There was an imperceptible pause before Dukat answered.

‘I see…and where was the body beamed to?’

‘The Infirmary, sir. Doctor Bashir is to analyse the DNA.’

Dukat rose, apparently unhurried, yet at the door before Tella could respond.

‘Very well, Tella. You get on with your work. I’ll just get along now and see if I can offer any assistance to the doctor.’

~~

Bashir had just taken some samples, trying not to be aware of the overwhelming odour of burnt meat, and was turning the stasis field back on round the contracted, blackened humanoid form, when the doors opened and he was aware of a compelling presence by his side. His nurse clicked her tongue impatiently and moved to the Cardassian, but Bashir forestalled her.

‘Could you take these to the laboratory, please, nurse, and start preparing the samples for DNA analysis?’ She moved off, silent in her disapproval. Bashir looked sympathetically at the proud man in front of him.

‘Legate…How can I help you?’

‘Doctor, I understand that body…’ Dukat gestured at the body on the table, ‘…is thought to be the Colonel’s.’

Bashir nodded, slowly, impressed at the speed with which the news had obviously spread.

‘Can you tell me something, Doctor? Was the…body…wearing a bracelet on its left wrist?’

This was not something Bashir had anticipated.

‘No, it wasn’t.’

‘You’re absolutely sure? No strange metals on the body?’

Bashir stared.

‘I didn’t look specifically for any metals, but there was no evidence of any untoward traces of any foreign matter on or in the body when I scanned, Legate…actually, I was wondering because there wasn’t even a trace of an earring.’

The man seemed to relax a little.

‘Doctor, can I ask you to do something for me?’

‘Of course.’

‘Would you let me know the results of the DNA tests as soon as you are sure? …My…government…would like to know, so as to…take the necessary measures.’

Bashir nodded solemnly. ‘Of course, Legate.’

‘Thank you, Doctor.’

The voice was suddenly softer, warmer. Bashir knew that there must be strong emotions going on under that official demeanor. He looked thoughtfully at Dukat’s disappearing back, remembering the shock mingled with a certain childish glee of discovery he’d secretly felt, when he found the readings from Kira’s last medical had revealed a small quantity of a second set of DNA. DNA that was non-Bajoran, localised in a fairly discrete area. One of the reasons he liked being a doctor was because he liked people of whatever species, and having what was often considered privileged information helped round out his picture of them as people. Though he had not expected that particular bit of information, carefully deleted from the official record, to come in handy, so soon, in explaining Legate Dukat’s behaviour. Well, the sooner he checked out the DNA of the body, the quicker Dukat would know. He turned to his laboratory.

Dukat was heading for his ship, his mind working fast. That body had not been wearing his bracelet. The heat hadn’t been intense enough to destroy the Com. Badge, let alone the body, so he wouldn’t have expected it to vaporize the bracelet. Plus, why would she be wearing uniform?

Images and memories flooded back. Her turning to acknowledge him as she stepped through the runabout’s door, as he ‘just happened to pass by’. The shy smile with which she greeted his awareness of the bracelet – his bracelet – she wore on her wrist then. He knew she would not have removed it; she would obey her traditions and would remove it only to return it to him – in person – if she had rejected it.

Other memories supervened. The sent of her neck, the nape, when he nuzzled it. That night he had stayed awake while she’d fallen off to sleep, agonising in his mind over whether to carry out his plan or not. Concealed on his bedside table, a tiny metallic straw-like device about 2 cm long. He had kissed her neck and stroked her back for a long while, thinking, then finally decided, had picked up the straw, primed it by squeezing a fraction of the thin wire out of the tip, and brought it up against the relatively insensitive skin between her shoulderblades. Finally committing himself, he carefully angled the straw to lie nearly parallel to the skin and pushed. He saw the angled, sharp hollow point propel forwards, driven just under the skin, and when it was well in, squeezed the barrel again. The fine, hair-like wire was swiftly propelled along the shaft. When he withdrew the metal straw, the wire remained in the skin. He quickly put away his instruments and quietly activated his com. bracelet. A light had come up, blinking on and off, reassuring him that the subdermal transmitter containing veridium as a tag, was active. She had not reacted to the insertion of the device, and he had barely stopped gently caressing the skin of her back around it.

As he strode onto the bridge of his craft, reality supervened. He ordered the ship to make ready to depart on what was ostensibly a training exercise, tracking a signal on Bajor; and handed the frequency of a certain transmitter to Tella so that he could set his receivers to search for it. He watched as his crew scrambled to get ready in record time, reflecting that this was an excellent opportunity to test them. His wrist com. chirped at him.

‘Bashir here.’

‘Dukat.’

‘Legate, I said I’d contact you as soon as I knew. The body. It’s not the Colonel’s.’

‘Thank you, Doctor. Dukat out.’ He terminated the link, and, without betraying his excitement, said quietly:

‘Request permission to clear the station, Tella.

~~

He’d known where to start looking, so it hadn’t been difficult to find the signal down near Kira’s beloved haunt on the Halana River. It had then been a matter of notifying the Bajoran officials investigating the explosion of her coordinates, telling them they had information that terrorists may be present there with a hostage. A few hours of surveillance gave the Bajorans enough information to decide to send in someone to try to locate the hostage.

Dukat returned to his quarters, knowing the wait would only irritate him further and make it difficult for him to pretend this was anything but a simple ‘training mission’. He tried to occupy himself with various tasks at his desk, suppressing the urge to keep asking for updates from the bridge.

After nightfall on Bajor, he was informed a Bajoran security expert was to infiltrate the building in which Kira appeared to be imprisoned. He grew tense, and went to the bridge. The officers by now had grasped the reality of the situation, and had stopped grumbling quietly to themselves about the injustice of having ‘shore’ leave abruptly cancelled, and the malicious capriciousness of their captain in calling for an exercise in that manner. Tella had intercepted and was monitoring the Bajoran security channel. Dukat had him switch this to their main speakers so he could follow the exchange. It was sparse, unhelpful, and quite uninspiring.

After an unbearable silence, it appeared the infiltrator had located Kira. He was apparently attempting to release Kira from a locked room without drawing attention, but he was finding it difficult to pick the lock. The bridge was deathly quiet, while the men strained their ears, and Tella, looking up idly, was aware of Dukat drumming his fingers with impatience. Finally, there was a muffled noise and a whispered exclamation, Kira’s voice, unmistakable. Then, a curse. ‘They’re coming.’ The panic was clear – the would-be rescuer was about to be discovered. Dukat couldn’t stand it any longer. He’d been willing to let the Bajorans have the glory of rescuing Kira, but he was not about to let them bungle the job. Springing up, he leapt for the weapons locker, snatching up a phaser, automatically checking its charge as he ordered Tella:

‘Beam me to the coordinates – now.’ He was onto the transporter pad as he did so.

Kira, meanwhile, was beside herself with fury and frustration. An incompetent fool had been scratching at her door for what seemed like hours, then, as soon as he had gotten in, footsteps were coming down the corridor to them, and to certain discovery. She had pinned the luckless man in frustrated rage against the wall, when she sensed, and heard, the familiar sound of a transporter energizing.

She turned, and found her upper arms gripped by a pair of large warm hands. They looked into eachother’s eyes for a moment before he curtly spoke into his wrist com.

‘Three to beam up, Tella.’ Then, as the door cracked open, unnecessarily, ‘Energize, hurry!’

Moments later, he leapt off the pad onto his bridge. ‘Transport the gentleman back to his friends, Tella; and take us back.’

He’d left Tella to the tedious task of explaining away the whole escapade to the Bajoran authorities and escorted her to his quarters.

‘Did they hurt you?’ he asked her, gruffly, as they walked along the corridor.

Her eyes were soft when they looked up at him. ‘Not especially. Dukat…’ she stopped him, ‘you know that soldier who…whose insignia I was given, on Cardassia?’

‘What about him?’

‘Dukat, I swear he’d been surgically altered to look Bajoran. I’m sure he was amongst those men. I wouldn’t forget his mannerisms or his voice, and he seemed to have a personal reason to make things difficult for me there.’

He stared at her for a second, before calling Tella and ordering him to run a check on the man and any suspicious connections he might have.

CHAPTER SIX

It was several hours later when, exhausted, disheveled and distinctly grumpy, Colonel Kira arrived at Dukat’s quarters on the station, and flopped herself, belly down, on a convenient couch with a grunt.

Dukat quietly replicated a glass of spring wine as she ran her hands through her hair in a distracted fashion. She took the wine, and began to sip gratefully.

‘So much for my holiday’, she managed to force out.

Dukat had folded himself gracefully into another chair, watching her, waiting for the inevitable question.

She looked at him, noticing the careful upright posture, the formal stance, so at odds with the sprawling, spreading personal space he usually occupied when at ease.

‘What are you hiding, Dukat?’ she asked, softly.

He remained still, unblinking, looking at her. Then,

‘Good to see you, Legate. Thank you for rescuing me, Legate,’ he prompted, lightly.

Kira pushed herself up onto her elbows and tried not to laugh.

‘Oh, Dukat. Be honest, now. Tell me, how the hell did you know where to locate me like that?’

When there was no answer, she sat up and became serious.

‘Dukat, you must have had a signal on me. How else did you manage to transport yourself right next to me? How did you do it?’

He gave a little sigh.

‘You must understand, Nerys. I didn’t want to lose track of you.’

‘You put a tracer on me? Where? When? How?’

‘It wasn’t that difficult. I just…put it on you before we left for Cardassia.’

‘Where is it?’

‘Here, I’ll show you.’

He rose, came and sat next to her, then gently unzipped her top and slipped it off. She watched him, unmoving as he slid his hand round to her back and probed between her shoulderblades.

‘There.’

‘You’re kidding.’

‘No, I assure you.’

She struggled with the warm feelings his hands were invoking in her, the side of his arm brushing her breast. She had to stay angry.

‘How the hell did you put it there? and why did you do it without my permission?’

He made no pretense now about holding her.

‘One night, after…love. You were so exhausted, you didn’t feel a thing. I struggled with the thought of consulting you…’

‘I bet you did.’

‘…but decided I’d go ahead, anyway. I thought you might protest.’

‘Damned right.’ She twisted to try to free herself. Her earring glittered in the light, like her eyes. She was working herself up to anger.

‘You had no right to put that there without talking to me, Dukat. I’m not your child, or a possession. I don’t care to be tracked for your benefit.’ He tried to be reasonable.

‘Look at it from my point of view, Nerys.’

Her fury made her reckless.

‘No, you look at it from my point of view, for a change! You’re so bloody Cardassian. So patronising, you always think you know best, for Bajor, for Naprem, for Ziyal, now me!’

She knew she’d overstepped the mark invoking those ghosts. Even as she said it, she felt his body harden, and his eyes turn to ice. He leant closer, pressing her up against the back of the couch, and the fingers of one hand, like an iron claw, pinned her shoulders down, while with the other hand, he gripped her face. She remembered then, those Bajoran women with fractures in their cheekbones and even the bone defining their eye sockets from exactly such a grip, when they’d resisted the advances of their oppressor.

‘I think that’s quite enough, don’t you? I’ve had enough of this pandering to your Bajoran sensibilities. I am Cardassian. And proud of it. I’m not about to change that. You are my bonded one, and I’ll do what I feel I need to, to ensure that remains so. I think we’ve had ample proof of the usefulness of that little device, but you can do what you wish to do about that.’

She stared at him, unresisting.

‘I didn’t mean to bring up the other things…I’m sorry.’ She whispered. He relaxed his grip and sat up, staring at her, wondering whether this was really worth it.

She tried to change the mood a little.

‘You’ve got to admit it’s a little one-sided, isn’t it? What happens to me, if you’re the one that’s "lost"?’

The glint came back into his eyes at that.

‘You admit you’d care?’

She shifted, trying to get more comfortable.

‘As it happens, Tella has the frequency of my tracking device. You didn’t really think I wouldn’t have thought of that, now, did you?’

He shifted too close again. She put up her hands and tried to push him away, but by the time he’d caught her wrists, her muscles had turned to rubber, and her body was telling her how close he was. He easily pinned her wrists up against the back of the couch, then suddenly bent his head and seized the lobe of her right ear between his teeth.

Kira gasped with the shock. ‘This is what they mean when they say your senses reel’, shot through her head. Then outrage at his gesture toward her pagh tore through her, and she wrenched her hands away and threw her weight against him, aiming her hands at the pressure points at his elbow and neck.

She watched with some satisfaction as he winced, by which time she was crouched on the floor away from him. Too satisfied, as it turned out. Years of seeing him behind a desk, making speeches, swaggering around, had blinded her to his fundamental abilities. By the time she saw him knocking her to the ground with predatory strength and swiftness, it was too late to recall that there was a reason for his aura of power. He knocked her flat on her back, crushing her with his body weight, and bent his head to her ear, again. She closed her eyes, panting, feeling utterly powerless, and this time, he caught her ear between his lips and began licking with the tip of this tongue. When he saw she was unresisting, he slowly began to move his mouth along the line of her jaw. Her breath became shallower and quicker, and he was aware of her pheromones being released in response to his. He shifted his weight, and watching her carefully, he swiftly removed his armor, then his clothing. He noticed how she swallowed when she heard it drop to the floor, and smiled, satisfied, when her hands slowly, perhaps against the will of their owner, reached up to stroke the ridges of his neck. She moved her hips slightly, seeking to increase the friction between them, allowed him to carefully undress the rest of her, then shivered as she heard the sound of his scales rub over her skin, as he rubbed his chest over hers.

Her anger still simmered, but the demands of her body were so great that she had to satisfy them somehow. She looked at his long and slender, yet intensely masculine body, so alien and yet so familiar, so beautiful and so desirable to her that it made her mouth parch. He seemed to answer her thoughts by kissing her, drinking her till she was dizzy, his hands never ceasing to move on her body, stroking and caressing her. The wet heat down below demanded attention. Through half-closed lids, she watched his face as she slowly ran a thumb from each hand across the hood and two lateral ridges of his erection. She was gratified to find the whole area was suddenly slippery with lubrication. He made a low sound in his throat, when she teased his ridges again, then round the edge of his hood. She became acutely aware of all the signs of his arousal – and a glorious sense of power came over her, knowing she was the cause of the intoxicating, caramel-and-incense-smoke scent of his pheromones, the dilation of his pupils, the tension in his jaw, the engorged, darkened neck ridges, the dusky chest scales, the pulsating rigidity filling her hand. She pushed against him, and he sank back, obediently, letting her straddle him. She sat for a minute, lightly tracing the ridges above his hips, up to his chest, then leaning forward and rubbing herself down the fine scales of his torso. When she began moving her hips along his shaft, taking advantage of the lubrication from both, he placed his hand on her hip, steadying her, enjoying the sensations at his groin, spreading like a fire, outwards, to reach even the tips of his toes. The change in her breathing alerted him, and when he saw the flush begin down her neck, he shifted his hips, slipped the engorged hood and ridges past her tight muscles, hearing himself gasp at the sensations, and began thrusting. It only took two or three strokes before she cried out, thrusting herself back, hard, and bringing him to his climax as well. After she sank down onto him, still shifting her hips slightly, rhythmically, he felt her relax completely. He was suddenly overwhelmed by such a strong desire to hold and protect her, to do anything to make her happy, to keep her with him and never let her go, that he nearly cried out with the sharp joy of it.

Instead, he enfolded her in his arms, stroking her hair and kissing what he could of her face and neck.

Many minutes later, she shifted her weight, and raised her head, looking at him. He continued to stroke her hair, now and then moving to the sides of her neck as if she, too, had neck ridges. He waited till she relaxed again, and laid her head back down. He cleared his throat.

‘Nerys…’

She made a soft noise of acknowledgement.

‘Nerys…I’m…I shouldn’t have put that subdermal device in without discussing it with you.’

He felt her hold very still, then raise her head, but she did not reply. He looked at her, and found the faintest trace of a smile in the deepening creases beside her mouth.

‘…Nerys…I’m…sorry.’

She laughed outright at that, joyfully, and flung her arms around his neck, kissing his face with abandon.

‘There, that wasn’t so difficult, now, was it,?’ she asked him.

Astonished, he waited till she’d stopped, then raised his head and looked at her again.

‘Had I known an apology was all it took to make you behave like that, I would have found reasons to apologise to you years ago!’

She laughed again, softer this time, and kissed him again, this time with great tenderness.

He smiled back at her, and hugged her.

Later on, they talked.

‘What will you do about the tracking device?’

She was silent for a long while.

‘I don’t know, yet. I’ll think about it.’

He knew that he would have to be satisfied with that.

‘Dukat, can you take a day or two off?’

The question was totally unexpected.

‘Of course, if it’s important. Why, why do you ask?’

‘Well, I still am technically on leave. Why don’t you join me down there?’

Not in a thousand years would he have thought she’d ask that.

‘Down…down on…Bajor?’

‘Yes, why not? You love Bajor. And this is a particularly lovely part of it, you’d enjoy it. And I’m sure you deserve a break.’ She grinned, remembering his earlier comments. ‘It’d be a good thank-you to you for rescuing me.’

‘I don’t know if the Bajoran government…’

‘Damn the Bajoran government. They don’t even need to know.’ She snorted in disgust. ‘If that’s the competence of their security experts, I doubt they’d notice a shipload of Klingons beamed down there. But don’t you dare say I said that.’

He nodded, slowly.

‘I do believe I need to refresh my memory of Bajoran topography’.

‘Right, let’s go tomorrow, at first light on Bajor.’

‘First light on Bajor? Well…alright.’ His eyes danced with amusement. ‘That’ll give us no time to explain…anything…to the station staff.’

‘What a shame. People might not even realise we’ve gone together!’

They burst out laughing together.

~~

It was the end of their first day together, in the house on the Halana River.

Dukat had tried to give Kira space, to leave her when he sensed she needed to be alone. She had spent long periods of time at the shrine attached to the house, praying and meditating, and she’d also gone to one of the temples in the area for a few hours.

When his wrist com. chirped at him, he quietly left the candlelit room, and walked outside. Kira looked at him inquiringly when he returned.

‘Tella,’ he explained. ‘They confirmed what you suspected. That soldier discharged himself from the Military the day we completed that exercise then disappeared as though he had gone from the planet. Which, of course, he had. He evidently was always a True Way sympathiser.’

‘But I thought the True Way had long since disbanded!’ she exclaimed.

He shrugged. ‘You could say the same of the Obsidian Order. Nevertheless, he and his friends claim to belong to that group. At any rate, they were responsible for the stolen chemicite. They disguised themselves as Bajorans, as you know; and they had hoped to make enough of a nuisance of themselves around here, drawing attention to this site, so as to draw security here, away from the capital. When you turned up and they recognised you, he just had to take advantage of the situation. They hit on the idea of trying to fool us into thinking you were dead, to try to buy time while they took you somewhere to use as a bargaining chip.’

‘And, perhaps, personal revenge?’

‘Who knows.’

She nodded, slowly, then slipped into his lap, unselfconsciously, and leant against his chest.

He tried to check the sudden wave of arousal, the cloud of pheromones.

‘I can’t seem to keep away from you, Dukat,’ she murmured.

‘Do you still believe it’s purely driven by lust, Nerys?’

‘I don’t know, still. I’ve read the data over and over. It’s as you say. But…I have to admit that I do have certain…feelings for you.’

‘Not hate?’

‘No, not hate. No, I don’t hate you anymore. I’ve had to admit you mean a bit more to me than a means to physical fulfillment.’

His heart jumped, though he was careful not to show it.

‘Oh? How so?’

‘I ended up having to talk to a counselor while you were away. My performance was so poor, he approached me. He was a total asshole, as far as I was concerned…’

She saw his lips twitch, but he continued to look gravely at her.

‘…but he did make me look at why I’m so angry about this.’ She gestured with her hand, including him, her, and something between them.

‘It did occur to me that you weren’t so angry these days.’

‘Yes, well…I guess I had to accept you hadn’t set this all up in the first place.’

‘Oh, Kira. Did you really think I’d do such a thing? Bonding is such a rare occurrence in our people, and in most cases is such an intrusion, even an embarrassment to the social order. It’s also a reminder of our origins, it’s so completely involuntary. I wouldn’t have sought it even if I could have done so.’

‘I understand that, now…I also think that you think far too much of your abilities to use some trick to get me to be with you.’

He opened his mouth, though better of it, and shut it.

‘I realised that I was angry with myself. Angry at myself for liking it. Liking you. Wanting it. It seemed a complete betrayal of all my principles.'

He nodded. ‘I understand that. You’ve always found it hard to accept the Prefect of Bajor. I would be surprised if you didn’t. Sometimes, I find it hard to think I’m the same man.’

‘I don’t think you are the same man any more…But, also, I’ve seen now that perhaps you weren’t personally responsible for all the things that happened. Besides, I think the Prophets chose you, above others, so that in the end good would come to Bajor despite it all.’

He was uncomfortable with this talk of the Prophets, but he merely encouraged her;

‘Go on.’

‘I had never admitted to myself how incredibly attractive you are. I realised probably every female on the station is interested in you. That made it easier for me to accept that I’ve always been a little attracted to you, and to stop hating myself for that.

‘I am indebted to all these females, then. If you tell me who they are, I’ll do my best to satisfy them’, he quipped.

She sighed. ‘You can’t stop, can you? I wouldn’t advice it.’

‘Do I detect a note of possessiveness?’

‘Don’t delude yourself. I just don’t think you’d enjoy being too worn out to perform well.’

‘Are you promising to keep me busy?’

She made an irritated gesture, and he made his face serious again.

‘Can’t you stop doing that?’

‘You started it.’

She went silent at that, thinking. He took the opportunity to reposition himself, one arm round her shoulder, stroking her neck. She made a soft sound of pleasure, leaning further into his embrace.

‘Do you remember when you told me I was attracted to powerful, complex men?’

He stilled, memories flooding back.

‘Ah, that was aeons ago. I believe I was more interested in adding you to my crew than anything else, then.’

She turned to look up at his face.

‘Dukat. Either your memory’s defective or you’re deluding yourself. Don’t try to fool me. That was only the excuse. I think you were after me, then, too.’

‘Did you see that, then?’

‘Yes.’

‘How did you feel about that?’

‘As I remember, I was irritated.’

He started to answer back, but she put a finger to his lips. ‘We were talking about your analysis of my preferences…I meant to say, I guess there’s probably some truth in that.’

‘Can I take that as a compliment?’

‘If you think that those qualities are assets, I guess so…’

‘You don’t?’

‘Do you know what I really think?’ she didn’t stop to hear his response, knowing she’d never tell him if she thought it through, but wanting him to know. She owed it to him.

‘Those are just a part of it. Just a part of being male. I suspect you’ve probably always embodied everything that defines masculinity to me. Everything my males never had, from my father onwards…all wrapped up in a package.’ She thought of Bareil, Shakaar, Odo, her father, all gentle, quiet, outwardly apparently passive men, so different from Dukat. Her voice broke a little. ‘I think I despised my father a little for not being able to protect my mother.’

‘Nerys, Meru…’

‘I don’t want to discuss her, Dukat.’

‘I’m sorry, Nerys,’ he whispered, knowing she’d told him all of this as a gift, a way of telling him she had far more complex feelings for him than she would readily admit to. Something to return his obvious feelings for her.

He felt as uncomfortable as she obviously did when it came to his relationship with her mother. Even more so, when he thought of how he’d divulged that to her. Though, how they’d live with it if she hadn’t known by now, he couldn’t imagine. Still…he wasn’t proud of the part of him that in the past had made him tell her like that, though he was aware that his disturbed mental state at the time had contributed to it. No good would come of starting down that path at the moment, though. He tried to steer the subject away a little. How could he let her know he’d understood what she was trying to say, including the gesture that it was? He decided that honesty was, after all, the best approach. She’d been painfully honest with him, after all. He chose his words with care.

‘I’ve always respected your feelings and the fact that you haven’t always wanted to discuss them with me.’ How to let her know that she hadn’t needed to tell him with words, that her face was like an open book to him sometimes? He’d seen the sudden tenderness in her eyes, the startled distress when she thought he might have been offended, hurt, or angry at something she’d said or done. He’d noticed the care she took in her appearance when she was with him these days – nothing overt, but he’d noticed. On balance, though, perhaps he’d be best to keep silent about these. He didn’t want to frighten her away…

‘…so I’ve appreciated what you’ve said tonight.’

She brightened.

‘Perhaps you might even admit to liking me?’

‘Hmmm…perhaps.’

He did not intend to push her any further. His eyes danced with gleeful triumph, though. She noticed.

‘You’re looking way too satisfied with yourself, Dukat.’

‘Ah, Colonel. What are you going to do about it?’

Her hands got busy with his clothes, then.

‘I’m going to make sure you realise you’ve got a long way to go, yet, before you can be satisfied with your work.’

She had him, willingly, stripped to the waist by now. The rising tide of his desire was about to engulf him, and when she touched his groin to undo his pants, he began feverishly running his hands over her body.

‘I think it’s time to go to bed, now,’ she whispered to him.

~~

Tella had decided to spend a rare few days without his CO, fulfilling some of his duties as Dukat’s Glinn in looking after his captain’s quarters.

There was really very little to do, as long years of training and discipline kept Dukat meticulous in looking after himself.

However, there were always things that one didn’t get around to doing regularly in housekeeping…

Idly checking Dukat’s clothing, he noticed a nightshirt, pushed to the back of a rarely opened bottom drawer, completely at odds with the formal attire and decorations kept there. Odd, too, was the fact that it had been carefully folded, though why the Legate would purposely put a nightshirt in amongst these…

He pulled it out, letting it fall open, as he prepared to try to see if it was for the recycler or the correct drawer, when a subtle, unusual scent wafted past his sensitive nostrils.

He stopped, then slowly brought the nightshirt up to his face, closing his eyes to try to identify the source. It really only took a second.

He smiled, then, remembering back to the Legate’s increasing irritability some months ago on that sudden, secret mission away from DS9, and that night on Cardassia during the training exercise, when he’d awoken in the middle of the night to find them unexpectedly coming back to camp together from some excursion. Fleetingly, he realised he knew now why the Legate always seemed to complain about having slept badly, blaming too much kanaar, the morning after the dinners in his quarters with the Colonel.

Tella carefully folded the nightshirt back to as close an approximation of how he’d found it as he could, and returned it to the back of the bottom drawer.

(followed by ‘Mellowing’)

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