6

It was several evenings later, in Quarks’ bar, when a sparkling-eyed new young officer from the Cardassian warship Menar approached the knot of Cardassians and Bajorans in one corner. The young officers of Dukat’s crew nodded at her, but she only had eyes for Dukat. Conscious of her presence, he turned from the Bajoran military woman and his Glinn, and smiled at her. "Pantek. How are you finding your new ship?"

"Perfect, Legate. We leave in three days. I’m honoured to be able to join her. But I came to make sure you all knew we were staying for the Station Ball."

"Yes, your captain mentioned it to me today, when we met."

"Well, as my friend’s father, would you grant me a favour?"

"Seeings you’re also the daughter of a classmate of mine, I’ll certainly consider it, Pantek," he laughed.

"Would you escort me to the ball?"

She didn’t take note of the look his Glinn directed at the other officers and at the Bajoran.

"Please, sir, surely you could do that much?"

"You should, Legate," chimed in the Bajoran, looking amused. "How often do you get the chance to escort a charming young Cardassian lady to anything these days?"

Dukat looked at her, a strange expression on his face. But turned back to Pantek, nodding slowly.

"Alright, young lady. You’ve made it difficult for me to refuse. I shall escort you to the Ball with great pleasure."

"Oh, good!" she cried, a picture of young enthusiasm. It made most of the others smile. She chatted away to him, eyes shining, till others of her new crewmates arrived and she made her excuses and joined them.

Dukat turned to Kira and Tella in particular. "Now look where you’ve got me," he chided. "What do I do now?"

"She leaves in three days, what are you worried about?" grinned Kira.

"You, for a start."

"Don’t mind me," she said, deliberately misunderstanding. "Tella can escort me, can’t you? Unless you’ve got someone already in mind?"

"No, I haven’t. I’d be honoured to escort you, Colonel."

Dukat snorted, raised his eyes to the ceiling, and turned to the bar. He at least knew when to keep silent.

~

He was just about to go to bed and was pouring himself a nightcap in his quarters, when the door chirped, signalling someone requesting entry. Half-expecting it to be Kira, he didn’t bother to put his shirt back on, and was somewhat taken aback when Pantek walked in. As close to embarrassed as he could recall himself ever being in front of a female, he reached for his shirt and put it on.

"You’ll have to excuse me. I wasn’t expecting visitors."

"I’m terribly sorry to have caught you off-guard."

"I wasn’t off guard, merely a little taken aback. Young Cardassian ladies of good lineage like yourself don’t usually come to men’s quarters at this hour like this."

"Particularly to older men’s quarters."

"Well, then your reputation’s intact; an old man would hardly prove dangerous to a young chit of a female."

"Not even when the man has a reputation?"

"A reputation for integrity? That’s all you’re interested in, of course."

"No, Legate, your reputation as a flirt, a lady’s man, a man of experience."

"I think, young lady, that you’re out of your depth. What did you really come here for?"

"I don’t believe you understand, Legate. I’ve come to ask you a favour."

"Another one? You’re very needy tonight, soldier!"

"I’m serious. Will you listen to me?"

"Only if you’ve something of significance to say." Ah, this was good. Not for a long time had he experienced the thrill of flirting with a Cardassian female, goading her on, seeing if her wit matched his own.

"I’d like you to initiate me."

His mouth dropped open, all witty repartee lost. She began to giggle.

"If only you could see yourself…" she began.

"What…did…you…say?"

"You did hear me right, Legate. Unless you’ve gone deaf with age, which I seriously doubt. I’d like you to initiate me."

He shook his head in negation and disbelief.

"I’m sorry, Pantek."

"Hear me out, please…. I'm asking because I'm already thirty years of age, too old to have had no experience."

He said, as gently as he could, "Your first time should be with your husband, Pantek."

"At my age, I'm unlikely to find one, especially as a soldier on a starship. And I don't care to have my first moments with some fumbling, inexperienced fellow officer."

"Pantek, you're a friend of my daughter, and the daughter of a friend. I can't just…fuck you."

"Who else better? I know you'll look after me. Besides, your reputation as a lover is well-known.

"All myth, I'm afraid. I'm flattered, but I think we should leave it at that. I don't do breaking in virgins." He stood and tried to let her know the conversation was at an end by walking away, but she advanced on him adroitly and leaned up against him, trailing her hands along his neck ridges, then up his jaw and around his face.

Despite himself, Dukat felt, deep inside, the irresistible call of adventure as well as the familiar longing in his loins. He tried to catch her wrists before they did any more, but one of her hands escaped him and burrowed under his shirt to caress along his pectoral ridges at the same time that she leant up to him and turned her face up so he could receive the maximum impact of her scent and pheromones.

He'd grown unused, lately, to the effect of new pheromones, and the result was somewhat akin to fire meeting an accelerant. The sensations seemed to overwhelm him, his nostrils filled with her scent, and his body craved to feel her with every millimeter of flesh. Before he could think of what he was doing, he found himself holding her, divesting her of the familiar uniform, stroking her orbital ridges. When he looked in her eyes, he managed to regain a small measure of control.

"Are you sure of this? Because I'm not going to be able to stop in a minute."

"Very sure."

He looked a little longer at her expression. He became aware that there was mostly desire, and determination, and warmth, but not much more, but he didn't stop to reflect on that. He finished undressing himself, and led her to the bed.

She continued to caress him over the ridges of his body, when he lay next to her, and he encouraged her to continue her explorations downwards. When he sensed her hesitation, he took her hand and placed it on his growing erection, showing her by covering it with his own, how to stimulate him effectively. He allowed her to do this for a few minutes, before he took her hand and placed it back on his neck while he concentrated on her.

It was a while since he'd tasted Cardassian flesh, and the firm ridges round her breasts and shoulders were soothingly familiar. He nipped along them with his teeth, increasing the pressure as she became more visibly aroused, till he bit her on the shoulder with more force than he could ever dare to with other species. She gasped, arched her back, and pressed her groin against his leg. Her fingers gripped his arms hard, then slipped down to the backs of his thighs, clawing and pulling. He pushed his knee between her legs, half-rising, and began stroking her thighs for a moment before dropping his mouth to begin breathing over her moist vulva. He directed his hot breath over the two elongated sensitive prominences, homologous to the clitoris, that ran along the walls of her vagina and terminated at the side of her labiae. He teased them gently with the tip of his tongue, flicking first from one side, then to the other, till she clutched at is hair, before opening his mouth and enveloping the whole area with his mouth, and began the rhythmic complex movement that simultaneously stimulated both ridges as well as allowed his tongue to enter her, which he had perfected many years ago. It took almost no time at all before she shuddered and groaned aloud, contracting and spasming under him. He slowed his movements down, then stopped, then moved, trailing his tongue up her body to her nipples, slowly sucking them to prominence, stimulating her breast and chest ridges, until he could look at her face.

She lay passively, smiling a little, so he stroked her brow ridges before tonguing her orbital ridges and gently moving to her meshavar. She gasped - the caress had a certain notoriety, deemed totally wanton and blasphemous in some regions at different times in the past - and whilst she was lost in sensations from this, he passed his left hand down to her opening, inserting one, then two fingers, gently probing and stretching, before introducing the tip of his erection there. He knew he couldn't be too tentative, but he could not be too assertive, either. He decided that he needed to gauge the right moment himself, and so, at the same time as he moved his mouth to hers, so that she opened her eyes and looked at him, he smoothly slid into her, swallowing the gasp that left her lips, with his. He refrained from moving till she relaxed again and opened her eyes, squeezed shut momentarily. Then he began the pulsatile, short movements with a pause deep inside her that he knew was likely to please her. He was gratified to find her lubrication seemed to suddenly increase, indicating the level of pleasure, and the dry tightness disappeared. As soon as he sensed her start the contractions which drew her lateral sensitive areas to the ridges on either side of his shaft, which maximised the sensations for them both, he changed to the long, deep strokes which brought him quickly to his climax, aiming for the simultaneous orgasms which to him was the hallmark of a skillfully conducted encounter. He stopped himself from ejaculating completely, and withdrew.

After their breathing had returned to normal, she turned to him, smiling.

"Satisfied?" he asked her, laughing.

"Oh, yes. It was wonderful. I thought, before, that women didn't…umm…orgasm their first time."

"It can be difficult," he agreed, smugly.

So I was right to ask you, wasn't I?"

He stared at her delightedly, but didn't answer.

She moved, and the wetness left a cooling patch on her leg and on the sheet. "It seems such a lot."

"Not at all, my dear. I've got some more in reserve."

He smiled at her respectful look and stroked her hair back from her face. It was refreshing to have someone in his arms who knew without having to have the mysteries of Cardassian sexual function explained. It had been a long time since he'd been able to indulge in banter like this.

Her expression changed, and he raised an eye ridge in inquiry.

"I have to go back," she explained. "I'm on duty in the next few hours."

"Ah, the middle watch. A horrible watch."

"I'm used to it, now."

"Good! …You'll want to shower."

He got up, escorted her to the shower, made sure she understood the controls, watched as she adjusted the temperature. The contrast between the heat she chose, so comfortable to him, and that which Kira would choose, too cold for him, gave him an idea.

"Pantek, move over. I'd like to try something.."

She wordlessly moved, allowing him to decrease the flow to a series of trickles, which would stimulate the skin. He faced her and drew her to him, started to try to enter her, then thought better of it, and knelt on the floor, pulling her into his lap.

"Put one leg on each side of me," he whispered to her. Once he moved against her a few times, she quickly learnt how to move her hips against him rhythmically, and the sound and sensation of hot water trickling down her shoulder and back brought on an unrivalled sense of luxury and comfort. She felt both relaxed yet overwhelmingly stimulated, every sense titillated to the maximum, the pleasurable sensations inviting her to seek more. Their mutual lubrication made the sensations tantalisingly inadequate and they moved with increasing vigour, trying to hasten their release. Finally, he lifted her a little and slid her onto him, where he merely supported her while she moved faster and faster, trying to push against him with increasing ferocity, clawing at his shoulders till she finally came, closing her jaws around the rigid column of his left neck ridges. He grunted in response to the pain, but the sensation of pleasure for him, too, was overwhelming, and he moved her hips, making her continue her thrusting till he, too, came with a rush that made him groan.

They became conscious of the sound of the precious water trickling away and he collected himself, helping her wash herself and prepare to leave. Just before she did, he gently grasped her chin in his fingers and rubbed his cheek against hers in farewell.

7

Kira Nerys had been unable to resist going into Garak's shop at lunchtime the next day, knowing she couldn't justify buying another dress, but unwilling not to look. She knew Garak would have made some special ones for the ball that evening, and consoled herself with the thought that she wasn't going with Dukat, anyway, so it wouldn't matter. She fingered the hem of a shimmering silvery dream of a gown displayed in the window with Garak looking on, smiling, then walked around looking at the other gowns. They were all stunning.

Unnoticed by her initially, Dukat had come in, and seeing her interest in the silver gown, had lifted the hem to admire the movement of the fabric.

"It would suit you, Colonel," he called out, and she turned, blushing furiously. "Why don't you try it on?" he continued.

"Oh, I couldn't. I couldn't justify the cost." She looked apologetically at Garak, who shrugged, indicating that although he sympathised, there was nothing he'd do to change 0the price.

Dukat recognised the look in her eye, the female desire to see how she'd look in such a dress, even if for a short while.

"Why don't you try it on, Kira? If you don't like it, you at least won't waste time wanting something that doesn't really suit you."

She looked at Garak, who nodded and smiled, took the dress off the display and handed it to her to try on in the fitting room.

When she came out again, in a rustle of silver tissue, Dukat stared at her appraisingly.

"You're simply beautiful, Kira," was all he'd say.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Garak immediately came forward, did something to the hem, adjusted the bust, fussed with the sleeve.

"Walk across the floor, Kira," he suggested, and she did so, enjoying the feel of the material flowing around her legs and floating behind her with every movement.

"It's too bad," she exclaimed. "I still can't justify buying it."

"Never mind." Dukat approached her, reaching out to hold her hands. "You look like a princess." He brought her hands to his lips, kissing them in turn, then in a low voice, he continued, "And in my heart, you're my queen."

He watched as she turned pale with shocked emotion, then red, with embarrassment, and let her go when she pulled away to get changed back into her uniform.

As soon as she was in the cubicle, he turned to Garak, who was standing at the till.

"Garak, you can alter than in time for the ball?"

"It'll be ready by 1800 tonight."

"Good."

"Would you like me to deliver it to her quarters?"

"Yes." He touched the PADD, charged it to his account." "It's as good as done, Dukat."

At the same time, Pantek had been on the Promenade with her colleagues, and had seen Dukat fingering the dress with wonder. Why was he interested in a woman's gown? It fleetingly crossed her mind that he might be looking at it with her in mind, but silver was definitely not her colour, so she discounted that possibility, and turned back to her friends, determined not to think about it.

~

Kira was just drying her hair, when someone signaled their presence outside the door.

She hastily threw on a robe, and admitted them, stopping in her tracks when she saw Garak, holding a large box.

He came in in front of her, placed the box on the table, and began to leave, a little smile on his features.

"Garak, what's this?" Kira managed to croak.

"Your dress, Colonel." His smile broadened.

"There's been some mistake, Garak. I didn't order anything."

"_You_ didn't, Colonel. But the dress is for you. He smiled further, and left.

8

Whilst walking round the ballroom on Dukat’s arm, wearing an exquisite single white flower he’d given her when he arrived, she saw a cluster of his senior officers arrive with their partners. Prominent amongst them was the Bajoran woman, wearing that beautiful silver dress she’d seen in Garak’s window. She seemed to b with that Glinn, and was laughing and chatting to friends when she and Dukat finally approached the table at which they were sitting. Dukat half-bowed to Kira, smiling.

"Colonel, you look magnificent tonight. Might I have the honour of the first dance?"

Smiling, Kira stood and joined him. As they glided away from the table, she thanked him.

"It’s so beautiful. But that was terribly extravagant of you."

"Not at all. I didn’t want to see it on anyone else, you see. Besides, I’d hoped to have the pleasure of seeing how it comes off at some stage."

Her eyes sparkled.

"I didn’t realise you had aspirations to dressmaking, Legate. I’m sure Garak would be delighted to have you as an apprentice!"

"Ah, I’ll warrant I could teach the old dragon a thing or two about women."

"Don’t flatter yourself, perhaps he has a few things to teach you about men!"

Dukat’s breath caught. Did she know? Or was it a random shot in the dark? She was being delightfully Cardassian in her repartee. Before he could answer, she had turned her head and brushed her face against his chest.

"Mmmm… I love your scent…" he heard her whisper.

He had difficulty breathing all of a sudden, clamping down on his body’s responses which threatened to reveal his attraction to her. He led her back to the others as soon as the music stopped.

Later on, Pantek was dancing again with Dukat, the formal Terran melody suited to the one-to-one dancing many planets shared, allowing the partners a time for intimate banter.

Dukat held her close, but without any particular intimacy, and his eyes were directed over her shoulder, watching where they were going.

"Why didn’t you tell me you had a mistress?" she asked him, boldly.

His eyes flicked to her face without surprise or alarm.

"A mistress? I haven’t got a mistress, Pantek."

"What about that Colonel Kira?"

"Oh, her." He was detached. "She’s not my mistress." He skillfully pulled them around a near collision with a Bajoran couple giggling at eachother, unmindful of the havoc they were creating around them.

"Then, what?"

"She’s something much more than that to me."

She didn’t reply for a few long minutes, but then, she asked, "How does she feel about…us, then?"

Dukat looked back down at her, his gaze untroubled.

"I haven’t had a chance to discuss it with her. But our relationship goes beyond that sort of thing."

"I find that hard to believe. No woman could tolerate that, you speak as though you might be bonded or something!"

"I suggest you refrain from commenting on affairs you know nothing about. Now, I suppose you’ve never had any Terran champagne. Let me get some for all of us; it’s very good." He danced her to the table, sat her down, and left her, speechless. When he returned, he was bearing a full bottle and glasses for everyone. She watched as he poured the first glass and handed it to Kira. She noticed how his fingers lingered on the stem as he did so, allowing him to touch hers as she took it, how he watched as she took her first sip, and that they smiled at eachother as if at some private joke, after she’d done so. He poured rapidly after, handing full glasses round to everyone.

People came and went, greeting various members of their group, some stopping to talk, some others joining, attracted by the conversation, some asking various people for a dance. Pantek noted how many of the station’s regular female inhabitants seemed to have no shyness about asking the men to dance with them, indeed, with eachother. Kira accosted the station doctor, monopolizing him for a couple of dances, with Dukat not turning a hair, a Trill took Narel in hand and whirled him off his feet till he had turned quite dusky, whether with embarrassment, arousal, or exertion, she couldn’t tell. The Cardassian tailor came to sit down by her awhile, kindly asking after her father, whom he appeared to know from a few decades ago. Then he whisked her away onto the dancefloor, making outrageous statements to her and flirting harmlessly. She found herself enjoying his wit so much they had gone through about three numbers, when she saw Dukat with Kira. She admired the way they moved perfectly together, apparently effortlessly floating along in a world of their own. Then as they turned, she saw Dukat bring his partner’s hand to his lips and quickly brush it past his jaw as he lowered it. From the look on her face the Bajoran knew exactly what he was doing. She blinked, an unexpected feeling of disappointment clutching her guts, before she refocused, and found Garak regarding her.

"Were you interested in our good Legate?" he asked her, gently.

"No, not particularly. He’s a friend’s father," she said, hoping the explanation would be enough to deflect the Cardassian.

"If you wanted him with you in your bed, you wouldn’t be the first. I doubt he’s had much practice at saying ‘no’, but you’d be wasting your time if you hoped to capture his heart."

She gave a little unsteady laugh. "You seem to think you know a lot about him. But don’t you think that some female might take it into her head to try and challenge that?"

"They’d be foolish to, because they’re doomed to failure. And I’m sure you’re too intelligent to try, my dear."

"How do you know so much?"

"Well, I observe people. It’s my hobby. And I’m very good at noticing things. And I’ve known the good Legate and his father very well for years, you see."

She fell silent, the dapper tailor watching her, head cocked slightly to one side, continuing to guide her around the dance floor. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again.

"One of the few things I’ve admired about the man is his ability as a tactician," he said conversationally. "The ability to know when to withdraw, keeping your options open for another day. As a young officer, you might wish to emulate that."

She nodded assent, understanding his kindly meant advice, and when the music stopped, allowed herself to be led back to the others, smiling gratefully. He bowed slightly at the others but did not join them, drifting off to talk animatedly with the Terran doctor.

The Bajoran Colonel leaned toward her. "Did you enjoy your dance with Garak?"

"Yes, thank you. He’s very charming."

"To some people, at any rate. I think he’s got a weakness for pretty young Cardassian women like yourself." The woman smiled at her, and Pantek couldn’t help smiling back. "I’m neither pretty or young, but thank you."

"You are both, and you’re a breath of fresh air. Isn’t she, Legate?" She turned to Dukat, who had somehow materialised with another bottle to top up the glasses.

He nodded, smiling. "Indeed." He started to pour into Pantek’s glass, but she put her hand over the top. "I have to be on duty soon." He raised his eyeridges at that, rapidly completed topping up glasses, and asked her when she’d like to go. She made her excuses and they headed back toward her ship, Dukat walking the corridors with her. As the lock to her ship came into sight, he stopped and faced her. She realised he wanted them to say their good-byes there.

"I suppose I won’t see you again," she said, softly.

"It’s not likely, but you never know," he said lightly, hands clasped behind his back. "I’ll be interested in watching how your career progresses, I’m sure you’ll go far. Your father will be proud of you. Remember me to him, won’t you."

"I will. And…thank you for the experiences."

He smiled at her.

"I should be thanking you. It was a pleasure to be of service," this time it was a grin. He touched his palm to hers, familiarly, and watched as she walked off and the lock door rolled shut behind her.

The first thing he saw when he walked back to where the ball was held, was Nadrel, carefully holding three glasses that Tella was filling. He sauntered up to them, feeling relaxed and pleased with himself.

"Is that for the Colonel?" he nodded at the glasses Nadrel held. At the confirmation, he held out his hand.

"Good. I’ll take it to her. Where is she, by the way?" He tried to scan the room, looking for where their table was. When he saw the relaxed, intimate stance of the Starfleet officer leaning towards her, a hand, if he was not mistaken, touching her knee, his face hardened.

"Tella. That Starfleet. Who is he?"

Tella squinted into the distance, trying to see.

"I’m not sure, sir. It’s the commanding officer of one of the Galaxy class ships – either the Hideho, or the Enzed."

"Names?" snapped Dukat, without taking his eyes off the two.

"It’s either Will Riker, or Paul Swenson, sir."

"Riker. I remember now. The original of the one that went off with the Maquis. Give me the Colonel’s glass, Tella."

He strode nonchalantly over to them, but Tella recognised the stiffness in the shoulders and upper body, and looked at Nadrel.

"Stay close, Nadrel."

The two officers followed at a discreet distance.

Meanwhile, Kira had been conscious of Riker’s eyes on her through the evening, and found herself feeling guiltily excited as he approached her. It was an anticipatory thrill, like the one she got before battle, or before an important game or springball. Or so she thought, anyway. When he reached her, her eyes were glowing as much as his were.

"Hi! We never managed to get together the other night…" he leant over, put a foot up familiarly on the low table in front of her, and rested his forearm on his raised thigh.

"No…and I guess we’ll be disappointed again tonight", she smiled.

"Not a good time?" he smiled, his gaze lingering on hr bare shoulders. "Maybe later?"

"Maybe some other time," she smilingly agreed, as she sensed Dukat approaching her from the other side. She looked up at him as he handed her her glass, eyes boring into Riker.

"Your drink, my dear…and your friend?"

"This is Captain Riker, Commander of the Federation Starship ‘Hideho’.

Riker straightened up now, to stare Dukat challengingly in the eye, in his turn.

"I’m acquainted with the Legate…I was just leaving."

They nodded at eachother, stiffly, reminding Kira of two contestants in some sort of competitive sport, and then Riker had turned on his heel and was striding away. Dukat stood, watching, then sat down.

There was a brief silence, then –

"Not a great conversationalist, is he."

Kira laughed shortly, shot a glance at him, and refused to be drawn. She sipped the wine instead, then countered, lightly, with

"She’s a sweet girl, your daughter’s friend."

"Yes. A fine example of Cardassian womanhood." He smiled.

There was a short silence.

"Well, I guess I’d better go to bed. It’s been a wonderful night."

Dukat looked toward Tella, and he came forward in response.

"The Colonel is leaving now, Tella."

She rose, nodded at him, and left, accompanied by Tella.

They walked on in mutual silence for a while till they reached the Promenade, at which point, she stopped, and smiled.

"You can go, Tella. I’m fine."

"Yes?…well…" He thought a moment, looking at her, then nodded, dipped his head, and strode off, leaving her to continue on her way.

9

She was smiling to herself as she got to her door, when she heard footsteps approaching her quickly. She turned as her door opened at her command, and looked into Riker’s eyes as he entered her quarters with her. The doors swished shut as he loomed over her, smiling.

"You don’t mind me waiting for you, do you?" he flashed his teeth at her as she walked round, vacillating. He followed her.

"Just wanted to continue our conversation; I was getting a little frustrated at not being able to, so here I am."

He said down on the nearest couch, challenging her. She crossed her arms and stared back.

"What did you want to talk about, Riker?"

There was a silence, then he stood up.

"I guess I’m better at action than words." He came to her, embraced her, and began caressing her back as he looked into her eyes. Then he bent down and put his lips to her, making her push with her arms against his chest. But she was astounded when she found that his mouth, though tasting strongly of alcohol, was full of fire and passion and promise. She kept her arms stiff, but allowed her lips to respond, and closed her eyes. Suddenly, warmth developed in her body, which shocked the part of her brain that told her this was inappropriate behaviour for a mature, upstanding Bajoran female in what amounted to a committed relationship.

The voice was insistent, although her body continued to relax and warm and open. But when her mouth opened, and she became aware of her own tongue trying to toy with his, her mind decided.

She pulled her hand away. In response he gripped her back hard against him, but she pulled hard, and at the same time began twisting her body away.

"Riker, stop. That’s enough! No!"

He looked shocked, then, as her legs became entangled in her skirt, and she began to fall, he tried to catch her, failed, and they both fell over, knocking over objects on a table, banging into a chair, generally making a horrendous din.

When the noise stopped, Kira saw silhouetted against the closing door, Riker being lifted by Dukat, whose eyes were narrowed and whose lips were drawn back in a snarl, by the front of his shirt. The silence seemed to stretch into infinity.

Then Riker erupted, and a tangle and flurry of limbs, furniture, and noise, consisting of grunts, blows, and crashing objects, assaulted the senses.

She pushed herself up, trying to assess what was happening, when she found herself leaping toward them instinctively. Her mind recognised the phaser in Riker’s hand after she had begun to jump, and her foot had lashed out, sending the phaser discharging an arc across the ceiling and wall.

The rest of her body crashed in an ungainly uncontrolled ball against the two men, knocking them all to the ground.

Before Kira was able to react, Dukat had coiled himself, up, ready to spring at Riker. Riker might have been drunk and illogical, but he was not slow to act. He had slid out from the tangle, retrieved his phaser, and was standing there, panting.

"Have a sense of proportion!" she shouted at them both, trying to scramble to her feet amongst the folds of her skirt.

Riker’s mouth was partially open, seemingly about to say something, but then he shut it, nodded at her, and stalked swiftly out the door.

Dukat turned and supported her as she sorted out her limbs and skirt. Gratefully she looked up at his stern face, noting without conscious awareness, the mild arousal enhancing his protective manner.

They got to their feet and she gently touched his cheek, discoloured from a blow.

"It’s alright. It’s of no consequence."

Her eyes were soft, darted round his face. Her fingers explored the mildly engorged neck ridges.

"This is quite bad." He flinched as they searched round his left lateral neck ridges, bared his teeth.

"How did he do this?"

"I really don’t remember."

"We should get Julian to run a dermal regenerator over this."

"No, it’s of no importance."

She felt herself pulled toward him, closer, felt the hardness against her hip, and the familiar tingling in her nipples and answering spark between her legs. She shut her eyes, allowing herself to drink in the familiar pheromones.

The dress was being carefully loosened, and she felt it slip from her body. His fingers were urgent as they combed through her hair, held her face, and his mouth found hers. He released her only when she was breathless, and she felt him undoing his clothing. Relaxing against him, she allowed him to slide her to him as he sat down with her pressed against him in his lap. He held her face against his mouth again, moving his lips gently against her for a while, before rearranging themselves to allow him to sit with her feet on either side of him. He left his hands caressing her buttocks, supporting her lower back. He reached over, found a silk sash, swiftly passed it over her eyes, and tied it. When she began to protest, he pressed his mouth against his, firmly silencing her. He embraced her more closely, surrounding her.

"You’re mine, Kira", she heard him whisper, hoarsely. "Do you understand?…You’re mine."

He moved more urgently, pressed her back to lie down on the couch, gently unwrapped her arms and lifted them above her head and pinned them there with one hand. With the other, he ran a finger gently and slowly down the inside of each arm, then followed the trail with his lips. She pushed back against the hand encircling her slender wrists, but the novel sensation of being taken over by this powerful being was too seductive to fight much against. When he felt her give in, he released her wrists.

His caresses moved down the side of her body and breast, first with one hand, then with his mouth. He gradually moved down her body, kissing a trail down her body, before sweeping up her legs against his shoulders and continuing down to her sensitive opening. She gasped, and involuntarily moved to grasp his head, but his hands moved up swiftly to grip hers and push them back to a position above her head. He did not remove his mouth from her vulva but the message was clear.

She moaned, shifting her hips, trying to seek more than the teasing he was inflicting on her. The only sounds were of her sighs and moans, and the alteration of his breathing which reached her ears, indicating his arousal to her. When he noted the shudders in her vaginal muscles, he stopped and moved up again, making her cry out with frustration. She moved to try to push him down again, but he swiftly pushed her hands back, at the same time moving his body away, punishing her by depriving her of any sensations.

He waited till she fell back on the couch, passively, then rewarded her by crushing her with his body, then bending his head and beginning to stimulate her nipples with his tongue and lips. The exquisite pressure almost immediately sent a flame of unbearable desire straight to her clitoris. Aware of this, his penis ground against her, subtly stimulating her there as well. He moved from one breast to the other whenever he sensed her excitement was mounting to maximal levels. She tossed her head from side to side in frustration, and her groans increased in intensity and duration. Finally, he took pity on her, and poised himself at her entrance. She raised her hips to him, the lubrication from her prolonged pre-orgasmic state allowing him to slide in freely; but the sensation of fullness made her gasp. She grasped his hips as he began to move out; he reveled in the pressure from her and did not force her hands back this time. He moved agonisingly slowly, knowing that the teasing would cause one of them to break…eventually. In the end, as he began gasping with the effort, it was her. She moaned incoherently again, and began grinding herself against him, calling him to move…move…faster…harder… till he felt her whole pelvis contract around him, her whole body quivering under him, and brought him to a prolonged, shuddering, throat wrenching climax.

10

They were brought to awareness by the door chime insistently chirping. Kira wanted to ignore it, but she heard the unmistakable sound of the door being over-ridden from outside. She leapt for a robe, clutching it against her, eyes blazing, as Julian stepped through the door.

"What the…"

She saw Julian’s set face, handsome in his formal uniform. "Are you okay? Where’s Dukat?"

"I’m here." Dukat stepped through the door, tightening a towel round himself. She noticed Julian’s face relax a little, but remain tense. His eyes traveled round the room, resting on the scar across the ceiling and wall made by the discharged phaser.

"I was told there was a discharged weapon…and that there might be injuries."

"Riker?" asked Kira.

Julian did not answer, but moved to Dukat, as Kira quietly indicated his injuries. Dukat allowed Julian to direct the tricorder at him. "This the only injury you’ve got? Hmmm…a few contusions…" he then directed the instrument at Kira, then put it away.

"I guess I only need to deal with your neck ridges," he suggested, to which Dukat complied by dropping into the closest chair.

Julian silently held the dermal regenerator against the sensitive area, swallowing as he realised he was trying to ignore the familiar, lingering pheromones and the other unmistakable signs of arousal.

Kira’s eyes softened as she guessed the reason for his controlled discomfort. When he finished, he looked at her.

"I’m ok, truly I am," she smiled.

"I suppose you are…all these bruises are fairly minor…have you got some anti-inflammatory?…take a couple of puffs of those…"

She nodded silently.

"You, too, Legate."

Dukat grinned ruefully. "I suppose…I’m getting a little old for this. I think I’ll do so."

There was a palpable reduction in tension, then, "Infirmary to Dr Bashir…"

"Yes, Nurse?"

"It’s Captain Riker. Are you clearing him to return to his ship for departure?"

"Yes, if you’ve finished with him."

"Understood."

They looked at eachother silently, Julian looking meaningfully at the upturned furniture and various broken objects, before departing, followed not long after by Dukat.

~

Kira was enjoying her hot shower, humming and smiling with satisfaction to herself, when Dukat called her.

"Nerys. I’d like you to come to my quarters now, please."

The tone of command immediately brought back all her occupation-era rebellious impulses. But when he switched off immediately, leaving her no time to respond, she simply raised her eyes and sighed, limiting the expression of her protest to leisurely dressing and sauntering to his quarters.

The door opened to her presence, and her studied air of nonchalance was frozen when she saw Dukat’s stance. He was sitting at his normally tidy desk with various data rods, scanners, mementos and other objects tumbled across it. The few ornaments on the walls were askew. When she began to look further, it was immediately obvious that the room had been invaded and ransacked by careless fingers.

"What in the name of…" began Kira.

Dukat gestured her into the chair with a cube that she recognised as containing images of Tora Naprem and Ziyal.

"I would say he had a good try at looking for things…"

"Who?" she said, stupidly, knowing the answer before he replied.

"Who?…Computer…" he commanded. "Who entered and left his room prior to my current arrival?"

The computer’s implacable voice answered immediately.

"The records for this sequence have been deleted."

"Computer…search protected secondary log."

"Please state your authorisation code."

"Status-Dukat-Flagship-Theresa."

"Voice identification and code accepted. Search initiated. One individual prior to entry of Legate Dukat. DNA imprint and identification corresponds to Will Riker, Captain, Federation Starship…"

"Acknowledged"…he interrupted.

The silence grew.

"Why?"

"Why? Why do you think?"

"The…the data from the Serpent’s Ridge?…but…why…how…"

His lips thinned in a mirthless smile.

"Someone must think I’ve still got the data…The only thing I’m unsure of is…whether Riker was doing this opportunistically…or whether he was ordered."

She closed her eyes, feeling sick. So, had Riker made moves on her simply out of a desire to get at Dukat’s quarters, or had he genuinely been interested? The feelings became even more complex and jumbled, she couldn’t think straight.

Swiftly, he moved to her, held her, and stroked her hair. He was so quick to sense her moods, and to understand her.

"Nerys… he wanted you … there was no question about that. I’m a male – I know." He fell silent, kissing her gently about her face and neck, caressing her. She remembered the contempt and bitterness with which he’d reacted to the evidence of Kira’s interest, and the uncharacteristic swift coolness with which he’d responded to Riker’s presence.

She allowed him to comfort her, accepting his reassurances. She felt she could trust in his desire to keep her emotionally safe and fulfilled. Looking up, she recognised the tenderness in his eyes and protectiveness in the carriage of his neck. She threw her arms around his neck and started to kiss him, drawing back, horrified, when she realised his ridges might still be tender from his freshly-treated injury. They stared at eachother a second, then began laughing. He caught her hands, then brought her right palm to his lips, caressing it.

"Don’t worry, Nerys. It isn’t sore. Anyway, I adore your gestures. And I intend to enjoy them indefinitely." He smiled at her. "Even if someone out there seems to think I might have those data rods, and tries to do something about it."

She smiled a little wanly up at him, pretty certain that he was teasing. But then again, was he? All she knew for certain was the implied commitment to their relationship. Perhaps that was all that she’d ever know with him. That would have to be enough.

~>§] END [§<~

28 October, 1999^