"By heaven methinks it were an easy leap
To pluck bright honor from the pale-fac'd moon,
Or dive into the bottom of the deep,
Where fathom-line could never touch the ground,
And pluck up drowned honor by the locks."
--William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Pt.1

+++++

Her ears straining to detect the near-silent tread of Jem'Hadar patrols, Kira followed Dukat across the darkened courtyard and into the Imperial Palace's west wing. She could think of a thousand different things she would rather be doing, but after the events of the past few days she needed to find out exactly what Dukat was up to. Simply asking him would not suffice; he would mock her curiosity, belittle her intelligence, invade her personal space and leave her knowing no more than before. The only way to ascertain the goal of Dukat's constant scheming was to observe him when his guard was down.

To that end, she had remained as close to him as possible ever since he had retired for the evening. Doing so had been easy enough, with her suite situated all-too-conveniently adjacent to his. The night air on Cardassia Prime was still and warm, and with her balcony doors open to admit whatever breeze happened to pass by, she could monitor his movements in the neighboring suite.

He seemed restless, which struck her as odd. In public, he never made any unnecessary movements or gestures, even when in the throes of his considerable gift for rhetoric. In the presumed privacy of his suite, however, he remained unable to apply himself to any single task for more than a few minutes at a time. While Kira lounged on a chair situated just inside the balcony doors, fanning herself against the oppressive humidity, Dukat paced from one end of his suite to the next, stopping occasionally to sit, then leaping to his feet to renew pacing, punctuating his movements all the while with sighs, grunts and muted exclamations.

Kira had no idea how long she listened to Dukat pace, but Cardassia's three moons had reached their zenith when she heard him exit his suite. Leaving her shoes under the chair, she left her chambers to follow him, her bare feet padding noiselessly against the rough carpeting. Under normal circumstances she hated the Cardassian preference for low lighting, but as she hugged her body against the walls she found herself welcoming the darkness.

Save the omnipresent Jem'Hadar, the palace complex seemed uninhabited. She nevertheless took extra precautions against detection, holding back farther than she might normally have done and pausing to peer around each corner before following. Dukat's pace, on the other hand, remained sure and even; he did not even break stride to acknowledge the sentries as he passed them. For her part, Kira crept warily around them, although they seemed unconcerned about the presence of a lone Bajoran woman.

When Dukat exited the east wing to cross the central courtyard, she hesitated. As far as she knew he was unaware of her surveillance, but the courtyard was a large, exposed space, illuminated by moonlight, with only a single fountain in the center for her to hide behind. Rather than risk the potentially humiliating possibility he might turn around and see her lurking in the shadows, she lingered in the doorway until he had crossed the courtyard and entered the west wing, then dashed across.

Although the general layout of the west wing mirrored its eastern counterpart in accordance with the Cardassian taste for balance and symmetry, she had not yet had the opportunity to explore this part of the palace complex. Consequently, as she stopped to duck her head inside each door opening off the central corridor, she feared she had already lost Dukat's trail.

Then, coming from several dozen meters down the corridor and around the corner, Kira heard a loud splash. Alternately curious and convinced Dukat was the cause of the sound, she quickened her pace in pursuit. When she rounded the corner she saw a pale green light spilling through an open doorway. Pressing herself against the adjoining wall, she crept forward and craned her neck around to peer inside.

The rank humidity billowing out from the room was intolerable even by Cardassian standards, and Kira felt large beads of moisture form on her brow and the back of her neck. Allowing her eyes time to adjust to the pervasive steamy gloom, she soon realized the room contained a large swimming pool, several hundred meters long. Her curiosity heightened, she stepped inside for a closer look.

A row of ocular-shaped lumens embedded at foot level along the perimeter provided the only source of illumination. They were bright enough to enable her to see her way around, but gave no visual access beyond the surface of the water. Not even a ripple betrayed any activity in its murky depths.

On a bench set against the near wall rested an abandoned uniform, breastplate and pair of boots, along with a stack of freshly-laundered towels. Kira presumed they belonged to Dukat; she had not seen any other Cardassians since he left his suite, and she doubted he could have completely escaped her notice. Whoever the owner was, however, he was nowhere to be seen. Judging from the splash she had heard earlier, she guessed he was submerged.

Kira spotted a door opposite her and crossed the room to investigate. It slid open noiselessly upon approach, blowing another, worse, heat wave against her, almost knocking her off her feet. Unwilling to admit defeat, she gathered her strength and forged ahead, ignoring the large beads of moisture pouring down her face and the discomfort caused by her uniform plastering itself to her skin.

Inside was a fully-equipped lavatory, complete with showers, toilets and one wall covered floor-to-ceiling with mirrored glass. Somewhat embarrassed that her curiosity led her into a Cardassian bathroom--and immensely grateful she had found it unoccupied--Kira consoled herself with the thought that the mirror had probably been installed at Dukat's insistence, so he could admire himself as he stepped out of the shower.

Despite her abashment, however, she followed the lead set by her curiosity once again and opened another door placed in between the showers and a row of urinals. She immediately recognized the small room as a sauna, replete with heat-generating igneous rocks situated around a steam vent. Ziyal had once convinced Kira to join her in a Cardassian sauna in one of Quark's holosuites; it seemed to have takena week's worth of bone-numbingly cold showers before Kira felt her body temperature had returned to normal. It was not an experience she wished to repeat, and she quickly exited, closing the door behind her, then returned to the main chamber.

The surface of the water remained as undisturbed as before, as smooth and dark and glossy as volcanic glass. Kira had not checked her chronometer before entering, but she guessed she had to have been here at least ten minutes, if not longer. She began to worry, first because, without Dukat to follow, she had no idea how to get back to her suite, and second because, whoever dove into the pool just before she found this room--presumably Dukat--had remained submerged for far too long. She admitted to little knowledge of or interest in Cardassian physiology, but she did know they could not breathe underwater. Had Dukat been the victim of foul play?

If Dukat was in distress, she had no idea where to begin. For one thing, she was not a good swimmer, and although she was strong, he was much larger than she, and would no doubt pull her under. For another thing, she could not even begin to guess how deep the water was. If Dukat had sunk to the bottom, she could drown before she ever reached him. Yet again, what if he were deliberately staying submerged? Suicide seemed highly improbable, but with the rancorous split with his daughter, the burdens of an unholy alliance with the Dominion, and whatever else might be plaguing that inscrutable Cardassian mind of his, she could not rule out the possibility. After all, he had been uncharacteristically restless earlier.

Kira looked around, but saw nothing she could use to probe below the surface. As time continued to elapse, she realized with a sinking feeling she had only one choice. Of course, she could just leave, but she doubted she could explain why she had been found wandering in the west wing not long before Dukat's body was dredged from the pool--not to mention the testimony of the Jem'Hadar sentries who had observed her following him. Sisko would be furious. Weyoun would probably rejoice, but execute her nonetheless. As much as she wanted to see Dukat dead, she did not want to be blamed for his death when she was not actually responsible.

Cursing her fate, Kira sat at the edge and dangled her feet in the water. It was bathtub-warm--hot, but not intolerably so. Taking a deep breath, she pinched her nose and jumped in.

Her first act was to travel the perimeter, in case Dukat had bumped his head going in. Holding herself upright, she clung to the edge with one hand while making broad, sweeping gestures with her opposite arm and leg. By the time she had returned to her starting point, panic was setting in. His body should have floated to the surface by now. Was something holding him down? She sucked in her breath at the thought of a submerged creature lying in wait, and fought back the urge to scramble to safety. If the pool did house a carnivorous beast, no doubt she would already have been made dessert.

Her teeth chattering against her nervousness, she pushed off the edge and slowly swam toward the center, again using broad strokes in the hopes of bumping into...something. Preferably a Cardassian something. No luck, though. Were it not for the threat of discovery, she would shout his name and thrash at the water until he surfaced. Barring that option, she treaded water and called softly for him. Still nothing.

Kira knew without a doubt Dukat was dead. Over twenty minutes had elapsed. She was not entirely sure how to respond. True, she had wanted him dead for twenty years--so then why was she trying to rescue him? More to the point, would she ever make it off Cardassia alive? Her feelings toward Dukat were well-known; even her friends on DS9 would immediately suspect her in his murder. Kira cursed again. What a sorry way to end her life: dying for a murder she had planned countless times in her fantasies but never had the opportunity to commit.

Her foot brushed against something and instinctively jerked back. Kira froze. Had it been her imagination? She reached down with one hand and tested the area where her foot had been. Nothing. Sighing, she straightened and struck out for the pool's edge.

Before she had traveled more than a couple of meters, however, her hand collided with a large mass. This time, she almost shrieked as her mind conjured up all sorts of images. Regaining her composure with effort, she reached toward the mass. Something was there, all right. She took a handhold of what felt like hair and hauled it to the surface.

The sight of Dukat's ashen face and lifeless eyes took her breath away. Without thinking, she wrapped one arm around his neck and used the other, along with her furiously kicking legs, to propel them both clumsily toward the edge. He was not as heavy as she had anticipated, but the journey was no less arduous because of it. Common sense had fled, panic and instinct filling the void in its absence. Her sole thought was of resuscitating him. She was not prepared for either of them to die yet.

Ferrying Dukat to the edge was easy, compared to pulling his deadweight, water-logged body onto the tiled floor. Nevertheless, she was determined to succeed. She pushed and she pulled, she heaved and she tugged, she grunted and she swore, until finally he flopped onto the tile, arms and legs akimbo. Wasting no time, Kira dragged herself out of the water and went to his assistance.

First she rolled him on his side and struck several sharp blows to the center of his back, hoping to expel the water from his lungs. When that failed, she bit back her disgust, then shoved a couple of fingers down his throat. She thought she felt him gag, but she must have been mistaken, because once again her efforts were for naught. She cursed again, dreading the inevitable, and tried striking his back again. Still no luck. She had only one other option, one she would not dare contemplate if her own life were not at risk.

Gritting her teeth, Kira rolled Dukat on his back, then tilted his head back to straighten and extend his windpipe. Then, pinching his nose and filling her lungs with air, she bent forward and clamped her mouth securely over his.

Kira tried not to think about the compromising position she had just voluntarily--albeit reluctantly--put herself in. Instead, she concentrated on forcing air into Dukat's lungs, taking in deep draughts of air, then expelling it into his mouth as she watched his chest rise, then fall, out of the corner of her eye. Again and again she inhaled, pressed her lips against his, exhaled, watched, and waited. Again and again his chest rose, then fell, in harmonious syncopation with her efforts.

Nothing. With every exhalation she waited, agitated, to see if his chest would rise of its own accord, but it never did. She tried to find a pulse, even though she knew it would be fruitless; the Cardassian double sternum and the thick ridges running along all the pulse points--no doubt an evolutionary by-product of self-preservation intended to shield the primary blood vessels--prevented her from detecting any heartbeat.

Exhausted, out of breath and frustrated, Kira pounded her fist against the center of his chest. "Prophets damn you!" she cried, although her complaint came out as more of a wheeze. "I have no intention of dying for you!"

Dukat coughed.

Kira froze, unsure she had actually heard the cough, or merely wished it so, then held her ear close to his mouth. From deep within his throat, she thought she heard a faint gurgle. With renewed hope, she again began breathing for him, heedless of the burning sensation in her own lungs.

Later, as she lay in bed and tried to recall the events of the past several hours, she would try to recollect when her lifesaving efforts had become a passionate, breathtaking kiss. She thought she could remember feeling air--her breath, mingled with his own--rushing back into her overtaxed lungs. She also thought she had sensed warmth returning to his skin, especially his impossibly soft lips, but since she had only ever touched his lips when they were cold and dead, how could she be sure? Without question, however, she remembered his arms slowly wrapping around her, pulling her closer to him, and the moan that issued forth from his throat--or did the sound originate from within her?--and, above all else, the gentle pliancy of his lips caressing hers.

She also remembered returning his embrace with equal, if not greater, passion, but she had no intention of ever owning up to that memory--to herself, not to mention anyone else. Instead, she catalogued the memory as a delusion brought on by near-asphyxiation, and filed it in a deep, dark place where her conscious mind could never access it.

No matter how selective her memory, however, there was no denying the fact that, at some point as Kira continued to breathe for Dukat, his arms came to rest around her waist, his chest began to rise and fall on its own, and his mouth became a warm, living thing. How long the kiss lasted she did not know, but it came to an abrupt halt when his tongue contacted hers. She jerked back and stared at him, her hand pressed against her mouth in horror and disgust. What had she just done?

For his part, Dukat remained motionless, save a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Then his eyelids fluttered open, revealing the silent laughter and long-repressed desire in those fathomless blue irises. Kira scrambled backward, painfully aware that Dukat was completely unclothed, that her uniform clung lasciviously to every curve of her body, and that she had just been caught kissing him.

Dukat lifted himself up on his elbows and looked at Kira with something akin to concerned hope. "Major," he asked with nauseating sincerity, "are you unwell? You look distressed."

Confusion warred with disbelief as she stared back at him in shock. He displayed none of the characteristic signs of someone who had just spent thirty minutes without oxygen. In fact, he seemed to be in perfect health, as if...

As if...

"You tricked me!" she cried in realization. At that moment, her greatest wish was to lay him flat with a single blow.

Fulfilling that wish, however, was not as rewarding as she had hoped it would be. Before her fist could make contact, he grabbed both it and her other wrist and yanked her closer to him. "Why, Nerys," he chuckled, "I've always known what a passionate woman you are, but I had no idea you were such a spitfire!"

Kira struggled to free herself, but her body had not yet recovered from the stress of resuscitating him or from the shock of discovery. As she twisted to break free, Dukat merely watched her in bemused silence, apparently unconcerned with his state of dress. Finally, after failing to release herself from his duratanium grasp, she slumped, defeated. Only then did he let her go.

If she thought she had any chance at succeeding, Kira would have tried to hit him again. After so much humiliation at his hands, however, she preferred to tuck her tail between her legs and slink away, in the hopes of returning the favor at a later date. Thus, without giving him so much as a scowl to fuel his self-satisfaction, she turned away. Before she could make her escape, however, he called out to her retreating back, "Major, don't be cross with me. It was all in good fun."

She should have ignored him, she knew. He was only trying to bait her, and she hated herself for letting him succeed. Nevertheless, her pride prevented her from walking away without responding. She spun on her heel, ready to tell Dukat what he could do with his apology and his idea of 'having fun,' but as she did so she collided head-on with the renewed realization that he was completely, utterly, undeniably naked. >From the top of his swelled head to the bottoms of his scaly feet, not a scrap of cloth covered him.

He was not the least bit ashamed about his nakedness either, which Kira found even more galling. In fact, when her gaze inadvertently strayed to the part of his body where she least wanted to look, then snapped back up to the neutral territory of his face, he had the unmitigated gall to grin and ask, "Like what you see, Major?"

Her anger and humiliation was at a boiling point, but all she could do was to splutter and fume, "I thought you were dead!"

Genuine contrition seemed to replace his smug pride, but as he took a step closer Kira backpedaled. "That's what astonishes me so," he said, halting his advance. "You're the last person I would have expected to rescue me. You've never been one to hide your desire to see my severed head served up on a platter of Bajoran delicacies." He smiled again, tilting his head at her and raising a sculpted brow ridge. "What made you change your mind?"

"I only did it to save my own skin!" she snapped. "We both know that Weyoun would have loved the opportunity to give me a public execution in retribution for your 'murder'."

He threw back his head and laughed, the movement causing his midsection to jut forward and become more prominent. Kira could not stop looking again, even if doing so almost made her choke on her own agitation. "You have a point," he said when he had recovered. "I doubt you would have had to worry about Weyoun, though--he'd have probably thanked you. Damar, on the other hand...Damar would have relished the thought of killing you himself." He took another step or two closer, but as Kira again backed away she almost tripped over the bench where Dukat's discarded uniform and the stack of towels lay. He reached out a hand, presumably to steady her, but instead his fingers brushed across her shoulder and down her chest to toy with her forgotten commbadge. "However," he said, his voice dangerously deep, "I can't help wondering why you didn't just call for help instead of coming in after me."

Kira gulped and closed her eyes, unwilling to look Dukat and the brazen truth of her actions in the face. If such were possible, she would have willed herself into unconsciousness. She knew he was standing only a few centimeters away, waiting for her to respond, because she could feel his breath fanning her face. For perhaps the first time in her life, however, her usually lightning-quick reflexes failed her, and she could not even make a sound of protest. The best she could do was to wait for him to give up and go away.

As expected, however, he refused to accommodate her. >From behind closed eyes she sensed him move closer, until he was almost touching her. Then he *was* touching her, brushing against her, pressing himself against her, wrapping his arms around her...

The absorbent weight of a soft towel settled over her shoulders. Confused, Kira opened her eyes to see Dukat pulling the edges around her, wrapping it securely around her torso. He must have felt her scrutiny, because he glanced down and gave her a gentle, reassuring smile that did little to ease her agitation, then tucked the corners of the towel under the straps of her undertunic. "You're soaking wet," he said by way of explanation. "I don't want you to catch cold in this chilly air."

She almost laughed at that--there was little likelihood of her catching a chill in the rank humidity of a Cardassian night--but she was nonetheless grateful: she was shivering so violently from expectance her teeth were chattering. As she pulled the towel closer around her and wrapped her hands in it, Dukat leaned against her again to retrieve another towel, which he wrapped around his waist. "I think you've seen enough," he commented dryly. "A man has to retain *some* mystery."

His gentle jibe broke the spell. Kira was able to breathe again, although she would not be truly relaxed until she was out of Cardassian space and back safely on DS9. They parted in silence, Dukat gathering his things while Kira made her way around him to the exit. When she reached the doorway, however, she topped and turned. "How did you do it?" she asked, genuinely curious. "How were you able to stay under for so long?"

Dukat looked up at her from beneath his eye ridges as he bent to pick up his boots and grinned. "Like most Cardassians," he explained, "I have a swim bladder. Unlike most Cardassians, however, I actually exercise mine." He laughed softly at the recent memory. "I wouldn't have stayed under so long, though, if I hadn't been enjoying the sight of you looking for me. That was worth a little light-headedness." He straightened, his eyes glittering with mischievous delight. "And when you came in after me, well, what else was I to do? I knew you'd be furious once you discovered the ruse, and I wanted to find out how far you'd go to help me." He left his account incomplete, allowing the weighted silence and his hopeful expression to fill in the blanks.

For her part, Kira was more than happy to leave Dukat's story unfinished and his fantasies unfulfilled. Turning to go, she called over her shoulder, "Next time, you'd better hope it's not Weyoun who's following you." The sound of his exuberant laughter accompanied her down the corridor.

~>§] THE END [§<~