She watched the young female Cardassian officer’s face as she chatted with him, angry eyes flashing mischievously one minute, dangerously narrowed below delicate brow-ridges the next. The stood close inside what most humanoids would consider eachother’s personal space, almost touching, although she knew this was often the norm for Cardassians. He had his back to her, but she could imagine what he looked like; amused, animated, one corner of a sensual lip twisted in an almost-sneer, a mocking look that only seemed to goad most females of most species on. She could tell the barrage of barbed comments Cardassians seemed to delight in were coming thing and fast, and his shoulders shook with laughter. The officer raised her hand, seemingly about to push him away, when a voice at her elbow jolted her out of her reverie. She turned to see of one of his young officers smiling at her.

"Colonel, I noticed your drink needs replenishing."

She smiled up at him, suddenly feeling like an elderly aunt being looked after by young relations. Ever since she’d gone on Dukat’s ship on various exercises, the crew had treated her with extra warmth and consideration, obviously considering her a sort of honourary crew member. It was a pleasant sensation.

"Thank you." She handed him her glass. "Some more Spring Wine, please." She watched him make his way through the crowd gathered for yet another Federation function, adroitly threading his way past various dignitaries, then looked around to look for Dukat and his sparring partner, but neither were to be seen now. She was wondering where they’d gone, when the young officer returned, handing her her glass with a polite bow.

She took a sip, smiling over the rim at him, a look which could be construed as being a little coy. Correctly interpreting the signal, he lingered, and attempted to make conversation.

"Such a lot of different people…I sometimes don’t know how to start the conversation!" he gestured around, eyes shining.

She smiled at him. "Sometimes it’s easier to let them start the conversation if you can. But if you’re young and inexperienced, I swear sometimes they deliberately try to make you start by making a fool of yourself!"

He grinned ruefully. "That’s what happened just now…" he proceeded to tell her about his recent experiences, while Kira listened, apparently all ears, and mulled over the absence of Dukat and that Cardassian chit.

"…and I just didn’t know how to respond!"

Kira was drawn back to reality roughly, becoming aware she’d missed most of what he was talking about.

"Ah, I remember, now, didn’t someone tell me you’re being groomed for a diplomatic post? Which is why you’ve been assigned to the Legate’s staff?"

He nodded, eyes wide. "I couldn’t believe I’ve had the chance to work for him. Imagine…the man with the greatest experience in these matters that Cardassia’s ever known! He’s practically a living legend!"

She had to laugh at this, knowing how irritated Dukat would be if he knew how the boy was talking about him, and yet secretly flattered at the view of his accomplishments. Or…maybe not. He was so insufferably arrogant over a lot of things, his achievements, some of them extraordinary, some of them infamous, seeming to him to be a natural outcome of his innate abilities.

But he was going on… "…and you, too, Colonel, equally so. It still seems extraordinary to me that you were once trying to assassinate him, and now you two work so amicably together. This, too, has taught me something…"

He prattled on, eyes shining, whilst she let her eyes roam around. They tried, for the sake of intergalactic protocol, to not be seen as a couple at these functions, and indeed kept their relationship on the station discreet. So it was rare that they actually ‘got together’ at these types of functions, she having her contacts to make, he, his. However, she liked to see him there nevertheless, and it was disquieting, in her current frame of mind, to not be able to…or the last person she’d seen him chatting to…

She noticed the officer…Prophet’s, what was his name…started with ‘N’…Nared? No, Narel, that was it. Narel had begun to get a little closer, and she found herself good-naturedly making cutting remarks to the young Cardassian in response to his implication that most Bajorans were too soft to push themselves to do the things she had done over the years. It was getting quite animated when Tella appeared.

"Colonel, the Legate’s been looking for you." He gestured at a pillar at the far side of the room. As she turned away and headed in that direction, she suddenly remembered that insults and barbed comments were components of Cardassian flirtation…and turned bright red. She often assumed that tone with Dukat, but had never thought anything of it; and in the context of their current relationship, it wasn’t inappropriate. But she hoped it hadn’t been misinterpreted by that ‘nice’ young man, who she’d had no intention of leading on in any fashion whatsoever.

A low voice in her left ear startled her.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself tonight, Nerys."

She felt the overwhelming closeness of him, and involuntarily moved back closer to one of the windows.

"I might say the same of you," she heard herself saying, congratulating herself mentally on her swiftness. "That was a particularly lovely young Cardassian female you were busy with, before."

He kept walking at her, so she had no choice but to back up till her body hit the frame of the window. He leaned over her, then casually stretched out an arm, placed his hand on the wall by her ear, and to all intents and purposes, pinned her to the wall. He leaned his face closer.

"I saw you with young Narel just now, Nerys," he hissed. "I suggest you be very, very, careful what you do with him."

Nerys was outraged. She couldn’t believe he would be so crass as to threaten her over a bit of harmless banter. Especially considering the doubts she had in her mind as to where Dukat and the young female officer had gotten to, earlier.

"I can’t believe you," she began. "As for you – where did you go with your lovely Cardassian friend?"

He stared at her for a long moment, then his eyes, always so potent an indicator of his emotions, changed from dangerous, glacial blue, to amused sky.

"You completely misunderstand me," he said, his body relaxing. "What I meant was…Narel has a crush on you. And if you aren’t careful, well, the heart of a young man, in love with beautiful superior officers, is so easily shattered. I meant, be careful how you let him down, be gentle with him."

Kira flushed. "I’m sorry. I never even noticed him till tonight."

"No? And as for the young lady…she’s a childhood friend of my first daughter, and I remember her from when she was a baby. She left early as she’s on the graveyard shift which starts about now."

Nerys stared up at him. Did she believe him? And if he was dissembling, what, then? So he flirted with other females – did it amount to anything? And was he seriously concerned about her apparently flirting with Narel?

He sensed the doubt and uncertainty and leant forward again. As often happened, she was suddenly acutely aware of his body, so familiar, the warm scent of him, and the faint presence in the background of his pheromones. It didn’t help her thinking processes, when her body yearned towards him.

"Nerys, if you chose to amuse yourself with dalliances, it doesn’t particularly concern me. Only, if anyone tries to come between us…" his voice turned steely "… that I will not tolerate."

She shivered as he leaned his head closer still, his lips briefly brushing against the ear with the Bajoran earring, in a gesture both intimate and proprietary, then moved away again. She stared at him, feeling mesmerised by his eyes, which seemed to draw her into his soul with their intensity. A flicker, and she realised his eyes were darkening with desire, and she felt him touch her left wrist. He gripped it in a curious manner, the thumb pressing knowledgeably just short of painful on the inside of her wrist. For some reason it made her knees feel weak, and an answering echo of sensation erupted between her legs. Her lips parted, and she nearly stopped breathing when he raised the wrist to the glands along the jaw and chin and in that thoroughly proprietary way he had, deliberately marked the inside of her wrist with his scent. It was a caress he rarely indulged in, for obvious reasons, but he was asserting his relationship to her, as a message of reassurance to her. She nearly moaned as he released her hand, and stepped back.

"I see one of your former lovers has arrived," he murmured, conversationally, looking about. She looked over his shoulder to see Shakaar, surrounded by Bajoran officials, smilingly talking, it seemed to all and sundry. "I’ll see you later," he added, stepping away towards a knot of Terrans in Federation uniform.

When it came time to be seated for a late dinner, Nerys found herself next to, of all people, that young officer again. She briefly wondered how that had come about, then rapidly became aware Dukat was diagonally opposite, Shakaar at the end of the table at the head. The food, conversation, and activity, rose and fell, but all throughout, she was aware of Shakaar and Dukat, both apparently not watching her, but, she sensed, conscious of her, and poor Narel, chatting away in the background.

Through a lull in the conversation, she heard Shakaar mention something about symbolism in Bajoran jewelry, as exemplified by Pledge Bracelets. At the same time, she heard a sudden intake of breath from Narel. Turning, she saw him staring at her wrist, resting on the edge of the table. She watched, feeling sorry for him, as realisation grew in him.

"Colonel…is that…is that bracelet..."

She was mindful of Dukat’s words, before, and did not speak. He crept a finger out, looked at her imploringly.

"May I?"

With her nodded consent, he reached out, touched the bracelet, and found the central link, with the glowing Blue Firestone inset into it. ‘The blue, the colour of his eyes…’she heard in her mind.

He stared at the Cardassian symbols in the rhodinium setting, apparently transfixed. Pity began to creep into her features, when his nostrils suddenly flared, and he bent forward a fraction, towards it, seeking the source of that scent. He looked up. Kira Nerys looked to see where his gaze was directed, saw Dukat, saw him turn from an animated conversation with his neighbor, pick up the glass in front of him, and raise his eyes toward them. They were cool and detached.

He looked away again, as she heard Narel’s hoarse whisper. "…Legate…Dukat…is…"

She looked at him then, not trusting herself to speak, and slowly nodded.

There was a long silence. He was too inexperienced to hide his emotions, and shock, dismay, embarrassment, and disappointment vied with eachother.

"I’m…I’m sorry, ma’am…" he whispered, finally, through white lips. "I meant no offence."

Her heart contracted for him.

"There was none taken. By anyone. Believe me…I should apologise to you. I hadn’t realised…" she broke off.

He shook his head.

"Forgive me. It was presumptuous of me." He closed his eyes, then refused to look at her again.

She tried to finish the rest of dinner chatting to the neighbor on the other side, but it was forced and laboured, and the whole thing was an ordeal. When they finally mercifully rose from the table, Tella was there to escort her away. She looked gratefully up at him, aware that, quick and astute as he was, he’d probably missed nothing of the whole affair.

He confirmed it with his words as he led her toward a group of her colleagues from the station.

"Don’t worry, Colonel. I’ll look after him."

She smiled at him, somewhat unsure whether he meant Narel or Dukat, but reassured, all the same. Ezri was opening her mouth, about to say something to her as she approached them, when a light whisper of a caress at her waist made her turn. And burn, as he stood there, looking at her, fingering a glass.

"Could I get you something to drink, Colonel?"

His voice was intimate, seductive. She stared back.

"Whatever you’re having, Dukat." She answered, her voice unsteady.

His mouth twitched a little. "I doubt you’d care for it. Here, taste first." He offered her his glass, which she took, swirling it round, smelling first, before lifting it to her lips.

This kanaar was too heavy, too bitter, and too strong for her. At the same time as she tasted, somewhere amongst that, she could also taste him, the faintest lingering scent, like a memory of his lips. Her head was spinning from more than the drink.

He grinned knowingly.

"I didn’t think so. I’ll go get some Bajoran Spring wine, shall I?"

As he watched her nod assent, he took his glass back from her, deliberately turned it in his hand, and raised it to his lips. You would have had to be watching closely to see how his tongue had darted out to quickly slide along the rim of the glass from where she’d drunk, tasting her, before drinking what was left of the wine in one gulp, then turning to get hers.

Ezri only partly saw the brief interchange, but smiled knowingly, and across the room, Narel closed his eyes against the image. He felt Tella’s hand on his shoulder.

"You tried to warn me, Glinn Tella."

"That I did. You appreciate, it wasn’t easy to let you know without being too obvious.

"I can’t believe…I never ever saw any signs before."

"That’s because they’ve been very careful. As must you be. Something which comes with time, and experience, I believe. You’ll learn."

Narel nodded, allowed Tella to introduce him to some young Bolian.

The crowds were thinning, as guests began to leave, and Narel was staring out a window at the stars, when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He turned abruptly, somewhat aggrieved at Tella doing this to him again.

Then stopped.

"Legate Dukat…" he whispered. Then he pulled himself together.

"Sir!"

The man sauntered round him, touched his elbow, gestured to a convenient couch.

"Sit down, Narel." He sat first, infuriatingly at ease, self-assured.

He gestured again at the seat before him, looking at the stiff young man. He inclined his head slightly, looking at him; and Narel, feeling the command in the gentle gesture, dropped into the seat. His Legate stared at him for a moment, then spoke softly.

"Narel…I wanted to talk to you…man to man. "

There was a short silence while Narel struggled with his feelings.

"There’s a time in life, you know, for most things one wants. But sometimes they don’t come precisely when you want them to."

Narel looked, amazed, as the man in front of him spoke gently. "I’m afraid it’s my time, at the moment. It mightn’t be so some other time, but the Colonel is…taken."

There was a pause.

"Sir, I never even dreamt…If I knew, I wouldn’t have even…

Dukat raised a palm, smiling.

"We must be far more discreet than I’d thought. But, then, you’ve only been here a few months."

Shock grew in Narel.

"Sir, you mean…How long have you…"

Dukat had relaxed completely by now, and stretched an arm along the backrest of his seat, and replied.

"Actually, it’s of no concern of yours. But I will tell you, we’ve been bonded now for nearly a year."

"Bonded! But…but…but she’s Bajoran!"

Dukat nodded, slowly.

"Neither of us could believe it at the time, either. But it’s so. Beyond dispute or discussion. So, you see…" he leaned forwards now, "…as I said – she’s been taken."

Narel closed his mouth.

Dukat stood up, sighing. "Narel, there’ll be a time for you, too. Count on it." He looked at him for a minute, then swung off through the crowd. Narel looked at his slim, graceful figure retreating from him, poised and assured, and felt a curious sense of relief that he’d been bested by one so utterly powerful.

2

Nerys, meanwhile, was having problems. She’d just started talking to Ezri, when a hug enveloped her from behind. It was Shakaar.

"Edon! Good to see you!" they laughed, but then, he held on to her a fraction too long, and she felt her body, already partially aroused by Dukat’s antics that evening, flare up responsively. She saw with dismay his face change as he let his hand slowly slide away from her hip.

"It’s been far too long, Nerys," he whispered, and, putting a hand against her back, he led her to a discreet corner of the room. "Tell me how things are going for you, Nerys," he murmured into her ear as she leant up against the wall. It was unfortunate for him that unknown to him, she had been backed up against the same wall not very long ago by Dukat. Unfortunate, as the comparison was not flattering to Shakaar Edon. He stared into her eyes, evidently expecting her to confess how much she’d missed him over the years but all she could think of was how Shakaar had let himself run to fat, and did not have half the charisma or potent charm that Dukat had. He sensed her aloofness, and pulled back.

"Nerys, you’re still angry at me, aren’t you?

"Of course not, Edon. That was years ago." She laughed, genuinely amused that he might think she’d carry a torch for him all these years.

He brightened.

"You know, I must have been crazy, leaning on you to get to know Dukat better so we could get a little information from him…I’m glad you never did, in the end."

Nerys’ face froze. She’d often wondered whether Shakaar was serious or not, when he made the veiled references to her working with Dukat, way back in the days when the Cardassians were occupying DS9 along with the Dominion; but to hear him admit that he’d actually cold-bloodedly been trying to use her loyalty to Bajor and affection for him to prostitute herself for information cast Shakaar in another light altogether. She looked up at him as if from a distance for the first time, wondering whether she was judging him too harshly. Or…perhaps the Shakaar she used to know was different from the Shakaar she saw before her now, just as she was convinced that the Dukat she knew now was not the Dukat of the past years. Or was it that she herself had never seen these men as they truly were, before? Her head ached and she knew it wasn’t just the wine.

"Nerys, are you feeling alright?" Shakaar’s concerned face appeared in her field of vision.

"Actually, Edon, I’d better go. I think I’ve had too much wine."

"Here, let me help you…" before she knew what was happening, he’d encircled her with his arm and briskly led her out of the side doors. Outside, two of his security guards quickly joined him, and she didn’t fancy struggling and causing a fuss in front of them. Besides, she was feeling off-colour, and she knew his quarters were close by. Perhaps she could use the bathroom, compose herself, and then leave.

Things were made more difficult when he led her immediately to his bed and encouraged her to sit down, stroking her forehead. He lay down beside her, looking at her with an expression on his face she recognised easily. She struggled up, hissing at him.

"Edon! Behave yourself!"

He looked soulfully at her, evidently believing she’d succumb, then caressed her thigh.

"Come on, Nerys, you want me. I can tell. What harm can it do? I know you’ve not had a lover in…years."

She was incredulous. Bad enough that he had misinterpreted her body’s signals. But…the added insult that he’d dared to keep tabs on her private life. The fact that whoever was doing the tab-keeping was clearly incompetent…either that, or in Dukat’s pay…a thought that amused her…was neither here, nor there.

She stood up. "Edon, I’m not interested in you. That was a very long time ago. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m really feeling bad, and I’ll be going, thank you."

She swept out of the room, to the consternation of the security officers.

Outside the function room, she debated whether to rejoin the others or not – on balance, she decided it would look better if she went back in.

Her friends were still there, and it was comforting to be amongst them, chatting about inconsequential things, and after a short while, she began to leave. As she did so, Dukat met her.

"Well, Colonel Kira. You’ve had a busy night tonight, I see." His face was amused. "First one of my junior officers, then Shakaar."

"What in Prophet’s name do you mean, Dukat?"

"Do you think I didn’t notice you enjoying yourself with Shakaar?"

"If you hadn’t made me feel so vulnerable, he wouldn’t have even tried, Dukat."

"Oh, so now it’s my fault you were seduced by Shakaar."

She was aghast.

"I was not seduced by Shakaar, Dukat."

"Well, it’s good to get that clear, at least," he grinned. "Don’t let me hold you back, Nerys."

"I’m not interested in him, Dukat!" she hissed, but he had already gone.

3

She was still furious the next day. Men, their foolish pride, their insufferable arrogance, their smug complacency. On reflection, she was sickened by the revelation of Shakaar’s disloyalty – his disloyalty to memories, to friendship, and to ideals. And as for Dukat – to imply that she might be so readily tempted…

So she was in a bad frame of mind to answer a summons to Shakaar’s quarters on official business that day.

At first, they discussed truly official business – dry, bureaucratic meanderings that Kira had to somehow decipher to get to the point of. One small part of her mind reflected with amusement that his public personality had not developed one iota from the early days.

But, suddenly, she found herself listening in disbelief as he told her that he was sorry about the night before, that he had realised that he had been wrong to say she hadn’t had a lover, that she had been ‘uncomfortable’ with his advances because she did have– and that he hoped he hadn’t offended him. The thought that she might not have been interested in him, or that she might have been offended, clearly hadn’t occurred to him. If it had, it didn’t enter the picture. She grimly thought to herself that it was just as well he didn’t know whom her lover was, when he asked her.

"Who is he, Nerys? I’ve been trying to work it out. He must have been there last night, though you went back to your own quarters afterwards."

Her sense of outrage grew, to think that he had checked on her whereabouts after she’d left, so that she was relieved when other officials approached and made it necessary for him to break off that topic. Instead, he began to explain a large document outlining negotiation points with the Cardassian government. She would have to present this to Dukat today. The irony, of course, being completely lost on Shakaar.

She reached the end of her tether when he put down the document with a sigh, and commented – "Well, I wish we had some pretty little lady somewhere who could tempt that Cardassian into conceding a few points to us…What we could do with someone in his bed!"

"What the hell are you thinking, Shakaar!" Kira was shocked.

"Well, that old vole’s been around in his time, hasn’t he? I do believe pretty Bajoran women are a weakness of his. There’s a lot of things one can do if you’ve got a mistress in your pay."

Kira’s mouth shut with a snap. She had truly had enough.

"I really must get going, Minister, if I’m to relay this to Legate Dukat. No, I won’t stay for lunch, I’ve a prior engagement." Brushing aside all attempts to bid farewell in a personal manner, or to engage her any more, she left as quickly as she could.

She was so disturbed that she dropped into the shrine afterwards. She needed the peace, the tranquility, the time to think and meditate, and to seek answers.

Thankfully, she was feeling more composed when she arrived at Dukat’s office, acknowledging Narel, who stood when she entered.

Dukat came to his door to greet her once he’d been told she’d arrived.

"Minister Shakaar’s instructions," she explained, indicating her PADD. A sardonic lift of his eyeridge, and he seated her in front of his desk and leant back, relaxed, as she sighed, and began to go through the document. He waited just till she began to feel ridiculous, then leant forward, enclosing her hand in his large, warm one.

"Colonel, might I suggest it would be easier for both of us if you let me look at that myself?"

She blushed, looked at him, and nodded.

"I was beginning to get worried. You were sounding just like your worthy minister, he grinned.

She looked at him, wordless, and his expression changed.

"So, what else did he talk to you about?" he asked, gently.

Forthright herself, Kira found it impossible to tell half-truths for the sake of deception. Instead, unable to reply, she felt tears start to well.

"Have you ever discovered, years after, that someone you thought loved and cared for you had really been using your feelings for him toward their own ends?" she asked, her voice breaking.

His eyes burned.

"Is that what happened today?"

"Have you, Dukat?"

"No. And I’ve never done that to a woman, either."

"Maybe you’ve just been lucky you’ve never been that desperate."

"No excuses, Nerys. I couldn’t do that. Ever."

Suddenly, a tear escaped from one eye. He had simply watched till then, from the other side of the desk, but at that, he stood, walked behind her, put his hands on her shoulders, and pressed his cheek to hers.

"Forgive me. I expect you think I’m a fool, or worse." She managed to get out past clenched teeth.

"Nerys," his voice was a sigh. "It gives me no pleasure to see you like this, whatever the cause."

She leaned against him, closing her eyes, letting go.

"Why is it,' she wondered, 'that I feel so secure with you, when you're the most dangerous man in the galaxy?"

He smiled at that.

"Hardly, Nerys. Those days are long gone."

"Oh, no, Dukat. I know better." She thought of the missing data rods from the Serpent's Ridge cave.

"Do you?" she felt him smile again, then his grip on her shoulders tightened, and his voice turned seductive and sensual.

"Nerys, come with me to my quarters."

She turned and looked at him.

"What? It's only lunchtime!"

"So...who cares?"

"Well, your men, for one."

"We don't need to tell them where we're going."

Seeing her hesitate, he drew her closer still. "You need this. Contact your office and tell them you're unwell. Do it." He shook her a little to reinforce his point. He had to comply - she wanted to, too much.

4

He turned to face her when they arrived in his quarters, reflecting on the sadness in her eyes and the pain etched round her mouth. He stroked her cheek with the back of a hand, as she closed her eyes, then in a low voice, commanded;

"Take off your clothes."

She complied wordlessly, excited by the sight of him watching her, as he ran a hand slowly up, then down his shaft, ridges swelling and darkening. As soon as she straightened up, he advanced on her swiftly, unfastening his trousers and freeing his rapidly enlarging erection. She raised her hands to his neck ridges for support, as he pushed her back against the wall, then scooped up her left leg in the crook of his elbow and entered her abruptly, without preamble. In response, she threw her head back, clutching at him, as he rocked against her, his armour pressing against her breasts. She couldn't account for the excitement she felt in seeing him taking her like this without bothering to take off his uniform. He was forceful, though careful, and she felt utterly at his mercy. It was not a sensation she ever thought she would find erotic, but today, she needed to be able to trust herself in his hands without a thought

He did not disappoint her. By half-lifting her in the way that he had, she was on tiptoe, unable to control her movements, so that she had to submit to his; but half aroused as she was by the potent familiarity of his pheromones and scent, when he pressed against her so tantalisingly that the moisture seemed to ooze from her, she rapidly reached that point of near-crisis. Sensing this, he stopped thrusting and bent to caress her ear, her face, and her throat with his lips, nibbling at the lobe of an ear, to kiss the ridges of her nose, and to bite along her jaw. Then he turned his head to take her throat gently between his wide-opened jaws, holding her like that for long moments till she began to shake, then he began moving inside her again, making her moan. He let her throat free then to watch her with his intense dark eyes, and as she groaned aloud her climax he moved deeper and faster to come with her.

She was still shaking when he released her, almost unable to support herself, so he lifted her in his arms and took her to his bed. He freed himself of his armour, hearing it drop to the floor, and smiled with satisfaction when he saw her shiver at the sound. He knew there were too many memories associated with that sound for her ever to be indifferent to it.

Naked, he traced down the delicious curve of her body, then followed with his mouth. She sighed, and stretched. The curves reminded him of something, and he sat her up and turned her so was on her hands and knees. She looked back over her shoulder at him, while the creamy fullness of her hips and buttocks made him ache with desire again, and asked him what he was doing.

With a featherlight touch, he traced a finger again slowly down from the nape of her neck, as he whispered -

"You have to trust me, Nerys."

Then he added, gently;

"I'll stop if you don't like it..."

She gave a little sigh and relaxed as his hands spread to caress her buttocks in a circular motion, then, as he moved to cover her with his body, she thrust herself back at him. Her trust in him seemed to have made her confident, for she moved fiercely as she sought her pleasure against his hand, which now cupped her from her front.

She tossed her head back as he gritted his teeth against the sensations when her muscles tightened around him, aided by the position. Something like instinct made him nip at her neck with his teeth, trying to subdue her, but it only seemed to goad her on, till with a hoarse groan, he climaxed in long, excruciating spasms, plunging against her with enough force both to send her over the edge and to cause her to sink down, face and arms on a pillow. When he finally caught his breath, he began to laugh softly.

"'Nerys," he murmured against her back. "You have to relax. I can't get myself free." She began to laugh as well, knowing he had to be exaggerating. At maximum arousal, the hood-like end of his lateral ridges had engorged to such an extent that it acted rather like an arrowhead. Without her fully relaxed, or until flaccidity progressed, he was able to plunge in with relative ease but was unable to pull back readily. A few seconds more, though, and he was able to disengage himself.

He laid her back across his knees then, as he stroked her body gently. He could see the traces of sadness on her face had gone, replaced by a look of contentment and satisfaction. He was well-pleased with his work.

Eventually, he stroked the damp hair off her forehead and kissed her tenderly as he covered them both with the sheet and lay down beside her.

He awoke from a doze as his wrist com. alerted him to a message. He swung himself off the bed and moved out of the bedroom, unwilling to waken her unnecessarily. In response to Narel’s notification of a priority message from Prime, he instructed him to bring it to him. Narel was there by the time Dukat had stepped into his pants, so he did not bother with the rest of his clothes.

As he threw himself down on a couch to read the PADD, he motioned the nervous young male to a seat opposite him. It was only when he finished responding to the communication that he looked up and realised that there was more than a junior officer’s awe at being in a superior’s quarters that was bothering Narel.

In a flash, Dukat understood. There had always been an element of hero-worship on Narel’s side, and as the object of his love-interest had been abruptly removed from him, the young man was vulnerable and lonely. Cardassians were, on the whole, profoundly sexual beings, and though elaborate conventions discouraged bisexuality it was neither taboo nor rare. Narel could not have missed the potent pheromones still lingering in the air after Dukat and Kira’s lovemaking, and unfortunately he seemed to have taken it into his head to focus on Dukat as his next potential target.

Mentally, Dukat kicked himself for getting out of the habit of using agents to mask and neutralise the pheromones – it just hadn’t seemed necessary on the station. After all, one didn’t use it in one’s own house straight after lovemaking, anyway. He could feel Narel’s eyes roaming over his bare upper torso, and when he raised his eyes to Narel’s face, he saw that he was looking towards his groin. He groaned silently to himself. How had this happened? It was just his luck, unfortunately, he would have to say something. He got up, moved round to stand behind Narel, to spare the man the embarrassment of eye contact.

"Narel. I think we need to be clear about something." He spoke conversationally, as though they were about to discuss seating arrangements at a Starfleet function.

"I’m flattered by your interest in me." He watched, as the man’s ridges turned darker and fuller. Impulsively, he put his hands on his shoulders, tightening, then relaxing. "But I’m afraid I’ve never been interested in men as much as women. Besides, I already have a lover."

Narel stood up, allowing Dukat’s hands to fall away, and turned to face him.

"Sir, may I say how sorry I am that you feel that way." Dukat nodded, and then handed the PADD back to him. "You can transmit that, Narel. And thanks for coming to my quarters with it."

He waited till the doors shut behind the man before walking back to the bedroom, shaking his head in disbelief at his own actions. Had he really turned a proposition down? It must be the first time in his life…or very nearly. He undressed again and slipped under the covers, behind Kira’s warmly aromatic body. He buried his face in her hair, slipping an arm around her waist, smiled as her hips moved against his groin and she murmured something. He pressed against her rhythmically and felt the throbbing heat suffuse his body again. He wasn’t sure how much of it was residual arousal from his encounter with Narel, but the demand for release was too great to ignore. He stroked her gently, listening to her breathing alter, feeling the increasing prominence of her delicate labiae and clitoris. She squirmed against him and he pressed forward in response, allowing his erection to lie along its slick channel along which it slid back and forth slowly.

The sensations were too indirect to create anything more than an agonisingly slow build-up and finally, he shifted, changed angles, and entered her, one hand continuing to stimulate her from the front. He felt the change as she moved more urgently, hearing the whimpering from her throat, and as her hand clenched spasmodically on the pillow, he flung his head back and drove her repeatedly into the bed with the force of his movements till finally his climax claimed him, too.

Panting, he carefully rolled to face her and enfold her in his arms and to cover her silky shoulder with kisses, before sleep gradually overtook them.

5

Quark’s bar was jumping with activity tonight. Kira had only meant to get a swift word in with Dax to discuss how they’d organise their next holoprogramme adventure, but couldn’t find her immediately, so had to elbow her way to the bar for something to drink, to buy time. She hated crowds, and hated feeling invaded by non-locals, so when the broad Starfleet back in front of her loomed and turned to back into her, her aggressive attitude made her dig it hard with her elbows to stare at its owner’s eyes when it turned around.

"Watch where you’re going, won’t you?" she flung out, challengingly, willing the overfull glass to spill.

Amused eyes looked down at her, and she gulped.

"Commander …Mmmm…Riker?" she tried to remember which Riker was which.

"Riker, will do. You’re that Bajoran Colonel, right? I remember you. Sorry to send you flying. Can I get you something to make amends?"

Oh, yes, those eyes knew women, alright. She felt a curious, tantalising excitement.

"Alright, then. A Juno’s Sunrise, please."

Quark didn’t miss a beat, hearing her from halfway down the bar. The drink materialised in front of her, she picked it up, then found herself following Riker to a quietish corner, behind one of the pillars on the premises.

"Well, how’s life post-Dominion?" she asked, looking at him over her drink, having raised it to him in a salute of thanks.

"Unsatisfyingly quiet. It’s not quite unpredictable in the same way, which is good, but, still…I have my own command, now."

"Oh, congratulations."

"Thank you. We’re actually getting some Bajoran crew soon, so it’ll be a change from before. I enjoyed working with the few I’ve come across in the past."

"Oh? I heard you were at loggerheads the whole time. Ro, wasn’t it?"

He laughed. "I should have known you knew about her. Do you know her personally?"

"Not very well. I admire her in a lot of ways."

He nodded. "That’s not surprising. To be honest, I liked her a lot. As a person, I mean. Just a pity she chose another path, really. I was just getting to know her a little, too."

"You mean, in a romantic way?"

He grinned. "I’m not incriminating myself by answering that, but I must say I was looking forward to meeting other Bajoran women here."

She shrugged. "Don’t look at me. I don’t get to know very easily."

"Why? Do your tastes run to women?"

She stared at him, not sure if she’d heard right. "You’re a bit direct, aren’t you? That’s none of your business."

He took a step forward. "You accepted a drink from me, so you could answer a question."

"A drink you offered me as a gesture of apology? What’s it to you, anyway?"

"I’m just curious. That was a challenge you threw at me just now. Pretty combative, aren’t you? So was Ro, really – is this how you Bajorans flirt?"

"You’re getting us confused with the Cardassians, Riker." She snorted, turning to go. His hand shot out to grab her elbow, jerking her enough to spill her drink. Kira swore vehemently. Riker seemed genuinely sorry as he apologised, tried to find a cloth, then suddenly leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.

She blinked in astonishment for a few seconds, then felt the hot heat suddenly overwhelm her and a sweet languor fill her limbs as she allowed him to enfold her to him and reposition her head with his hands as he kissed her more passionately. Sense finally overcame her, and she jerked her head free.

"Riker!" she hissed.

"Oh, boy, Colonel, I didn’t expect this."

"No, neither did I. Let go of me, Riker!"

"Not till you tell me when I can see you again."

"Not now."

"Later, then."

"No, not tonight. I’ve people to meet, I’ve booked a holoprogramme with a friend…"

"So, cancel."

"No, I can’t."

"Okay, okay…In that case…maybe tomorrow?"

"I’ll let you know." She firmly withdrew from him and willed herself to walk away, looking surreptitiously around as she did so. She didn’t think anybody could have seen them, but there were a lot of people on the premises. She finally spotted Dax, went over, had a shouted conversation about when to get together, and left.

Kira killed time in a few Promenade shops before she went back to her console to wait for a pre-arranged transmission. It was late when she finished up, and had just decided to go straight back to her quarters for a much-needed sleep, though that wretched Riker had made her regretful of being alone that night. Unexpectedly, someone signalled, requesting entry. When the doors opened, Dukat sauntered in, hands behind his back.

"I came to try to persuade you to come over tonight," he smiled, as he approached her. She hadn’t expected to see him till the following evening, but the invitation was particularly welcome in her current state. She smiled back as he leaned in to kiss her, when she felt him stiffen a little. His hands gripped her upper arms, and when she opened her eyes, there was a grim little smile on his lips. He bent to her again, kissed her as though tasting her, then lifted her hands to his face and began smelling first her palms, then the inside of her arms, up to her neck and face. She tried to pull away, suddenly frightened, but he held her tightly.

"So, Nerys, who was it?"

Seeing she was struck dumb as much from utter astonishment as an unwillingness to reveal anything, he simply unzipped her uniform, passed a hand down her front, and slipped a finger into her.

"You’re aroused, Nerys," he commented, watching her, as he brought his finger out, and slowly tasted.

"So, tell me. I’m curious. What man would kiss you, hold you in his arms, arouse you, and then leave you like this, without doing anything more?"

When she remained silent, he continued.

"His scent’s not Bajoran, and he’s certainly not Cardassian. Who is he? Terran, perhaps?"

Kira finally found her voice.

"Nothing happened, Dukat."

"That’s obvious." His voice was scornful.

"I told him I wasn’t interested, it just happened, he bought me a drink by way of apology for bumping into me!"

"And held you in his arms, kissed you, and excited you into the bargain?"

"Dukat, I can’t believe you’re jealous!"

"I’m not jealous."

"Then let’s forget this and go!"

"And you expect me to finish off a job someone hasn’t bothered to complete? No, Nerys." He began to turn to go.

"Dukat…" her voice was soft, now. "You can’t tell me you haven’t been tempted by others. What about that young Cardassian girl? What about the others?"

He stopped, turned, and searched her face.

"You’re right," he finally said, slowly. "You know, you’re absolutely right…And you’ve seen all that before, and never berated me for it?"

"There didn’t seem to be any point. After all, you’ve made you feelings for me very clear."

He remembered with some discomfort how he’d nearly been tempted by that young officer, with her in the next room, only moments after he’d left her side. That was one episode she was not going to know about…

"I’m sorry. It seems I’ve underestimated you again."

She put her hand in his. "So, are we friends again?"

He moved in, held her, and replied, "Oh, much, much more than that," before placing his mouth on hers again, with tenderness and growing passion. She relaxed into his arms this time, and when he finally released her, it was to hastily put her back into her uniform so they could stumble back to his quarters, away from incriminating security devices.

~>§] CONTINEU TO PART 2 [§<~