A Temporal Shiver

It was not as if he had not had his own fair share of flings in the past when he was the rising star of the obsidian order. But now...she was his only comfort. He wondered just how selfish it was to try and keep her. Back to work. He couldn't convince himself or make himself give up on her so easily, and he could not concentrate. Alterations were usually quick but he was making many mistakes. He hoped it was not a sign of things to come.

She forced herself to not smile as she left Garak's Shoppe. She did stop by Quark's, to made some false commentary against Garak. She knew it would quickly fill every listening ear-and that is what she wanted right now. Nothing better for a hunt than to throw the predator off his mark. That finished, she left Quark's and headed to the security office.

Odo, the shape shifter head of security who hadn't quite perfected looking human but tried hard was reading the daily security logs when she entered. Odo stood and introduced himself.

He was the strangest man she had ever seen, not just physically, with his face that to her looked like a melting wax work, but the fact he gave as close to no emotion possible to any situation or conversation was just...odd.

Drisana nodded and introduced herself and without wasting any time let him know what Gul Ducat's guards had done to her. She left out mentioning Garak at all, not wanting him draw into this battle of the wills. If he was going to use his guards against her...okay then, she could play that way too.

Odo was to say the least less than pleased at the behavior of the Cardassian guards but not totally surprised by it. He had been the security chief when this station had been under Cardassian rule and he knew how brutal they could be when they felt so inclined. What really angered him about her story was the injustice of it. Odo was a creature of justice and anything that went against that tended to anger him, the only emotion he every really felt-a sort of divine fury. Drisana was grinning when she left the office. Gul Dukat was in for a nasty surprise very quickly. He would shortly be getting a lovely lecture of station rules and regulations from the very man whom used to work under him when the station was still known as Tyrak Nor. The only thing she felt bad about was she would miss the look on his face and those of the guards as they would all end up searched for weapons on the spot due to an unprovoked attack-not that it was really an attack, but if Odo wanted to get technical.... Well, turnabout is fair play, after all.

Or didn't they teach you that particular tactic? Drisana mentally gloated at Gul Dukat's expense. But she also felt a delightful tingling in her nipples. Stop thinking about him, now! Drisana commanded herself as she headed for her own quarters.

She had time enough, just long enough for a quick nap, a shower, and a change of clothes. Not that she had much yet-three outfits in total, two pairs of boots. She choose the only outfit she had yet to wear-a long flowing blood red silk shirt that emphasized her every curve and a pair of long, tight fitting black leather pants. She wouldn't of usually worn them-she knew the impression it would send-but they were also the most protective piece she owned, and allowed for a quick get away without the worry getting caught up on something should she have to crawl through duct work. In her day, doing such things were rare but not unheard of. At least that is what she kept telling herself, why she chose to wear this outfit.

She was a generation born between wars, but her own father had been a top end sniper and had taught her well. She knew how to run, hide, and fight when needed-but she preferred to avoid the fight. Win by wits, that was the motto of snipers and all other forms of assassins. She was not a sniper, but she had been trained by one and took the motto to heart. She was just finishing buckling her left boot when her door chimed. It was time for the meeting.

Breathing in and out deeply once to center herself, she opened the door and greeted the guards as if they were old friends and walked with them chatting happily. It threw them off and the confused looks on the faces of the guards almost made it worth the trouble. She entered the conference room where dinner was laid out, still steaming hot. Timing was something Gul Dukat did know very well, by the looks of things.

She only hoped her false trail of info regarding herself and Garak had had the time to reach the ears of this man and throw him off. She may have been cruel in teasing Garak about this rendezvous, but she would not allow this man, this smug, military General-or Gul, as they apparently called that rank-to harm him.

Garak meanwhile was working his last few alternations when all five of Gul Dukat's guards came in heavily armed, and dragged him away after knocking him unconscious. They brought him to a dark room, the only thing he saw was a heavily tinted window, and Drisana and Gul were eating dinner on the other side of it. He tried to move. No good, he been strapped in place. He was going to be made to watch this but for what purpose. Everyone knew Gul Dukat had certain tastes that could not be satisfied with his own world's offerings, so making him watch this seemed almost petty. It was then that suddenly the lights came on and he heard Gul Dukat say clearly "Ah and now for the evening entertainment my dear new friend Drisana...the beating of my dear friend, Garak! A class act, this man..." Dukat stood and swaggered a bit as he spoke in loud clear terms, looking at Drisana the entire time, never once facing Garak as he spoke.

"Did you know he had my father assassinated? Or that he worked for-well, the name would mean nothing to you but I shall endeavor to explain, He worked for the Obsidian Order. They were the puppet masters of our political system, removing a player here and adding a new opponent there. Game players, all of them. Apparently when my father would no longer let them pull the strings Garak here, my close personal friend of more than twenty years, killed him. It's alright though, isn't it Garak? As you told me-it was not personal. Just following orders, weren't you?"

Gul Dukat was opening his own deep emotional scars, but he did not care. He had planned vengeance against Garak for a long, long time. The fact he knew about Drisana's date with him just added the last bit of zest, the perfect amount of cruelty to complete it. He did not want Garak dead, not yet. He wanted him to know what loss truly was. He intended to show him that and make him live with it, for a while anyway. If he was in a kind mood one day, he might eventually kill. Not yet though. It could wait.

Drisana stopped in mid chew of something that resembled spaghetti but was blue and tasted like what she knew as lasagna. Forcing herself to swallow she tried to think as quickly as possible. There were plenty of knives on the table; all of them could be used to lethal effect with ease. Gul Dukat leaned forward, almost as if daring her to try for that. She knew she would never beat him that way. He was far too skilled and experienced a fighter. He had been through wars and survived. She never had.

Under the pretense of swallowing her food and wiping her mouth with a napkin she leaned back in the chair slowly, stretching her breasts forward and forced herself to smile at Dukat. "I didn't know you were such good friends. You really should of told me, I would of told him to come visit you sooner as I had that interview at his Shoppe. Oh I did get the job, by the way." She implied far more into it than had actually happened that time, but got that same angry rise out of him-the raised ridges and heat, if not the yelling-she had gotten from Garak. Better, she got the cold silence of true, long lasting hatred. That was even better in a way.

Good, she thought. Let him suffer. Later though. I need to get Garak out of there. Pushing herself back from the table she stood up casually, and only slightly glancing Garak's way, made to leave as if nothing at all was happening, or about to happen. Gul Dukat was take back by this woman. It had been a long time since any woman out-charmed him, or outwitted him. He had admitted to himself that he had lost the first one from the reaction he got from himself upon just seeing her photograph. He would not lose to a battle of the wits. He refused to lose.

Standing as she did, he asked in an off-handed manner "Where are you heading to my dear? You will miss the show." Drisana shrugged and said with a completely fake sigh of sadness "Well, I am once again out of a job. Or about to be. If you beat him I'll have no employment. Would you employ someone who just sat by, ate dinner, and watched as you were beaten? Of course not." She let out another elongated fake sigh.

"I suppose I will simply have to catch a shuttle back to Earth. No one else on this station would give me a chance. Outdated, not up to speed you see. I guess your full report on me will just have to wait. I must get home now. You have a pleasant trip." Gul Dukat couldn't believe his ears and fumed, audibly before finally snarling for the guard to release his "friend, but hold him there a moment longer. I would hate for him to miss seeing at least how I treat my dear friends who have not betrayed me."

Jumping over the narrow table with the ease, Gul Dukat grabbed Drisana roughly and kissed her hard, pushing her against a wall and, doing so on the left side only for the viewing torment of Garak, twisted Drisana's breast as hard as he could but slowly so as to not cause her any real damage. She clenched her teeth and in return bit his lip and grabbed his manhood, twisting it hard and rough. It only lasted a moment but to the two it seemed like an eon, trying to see who would scream in agony or ecstasy first. Neither gave in.

Finally, it was Gul Dukat who backed away. His lust for her was starting to over-ride the pain and as much as he wanted her, he also knew time was short and wanted her to come to him later and to do so willingly. Drisana simply straightened her shirt, looking it over casually for damage, giving away nothing of the pain she had been made to feel-or the lust that was growing inside her.

Gul Dukat could not hide his pain nearly as well, limping more than a little back to a seat and sitting down slowly.

"I do believe we shall have to try this again tomorrow. I seem to have offended you in some...unknown...way. I must make up for that. Dinner again?" Drisana shook her head slowly and gave him a look that on Earth would make any knowledgeable man cringe in anticipated fear. Drisana said in the softest yet coldest of tones "Oh, I think this have given you enough to make a full if basic report. I have work after all. I cannot take the time to go out to dinner every night. Good-Bye, Dukat". She would not give him the respect of his rank by using it.

She turned to face the tinted window once more, but saw, much to her relief, that Garak was gone. She hoped he would still have a head on his shoulders when she finally caught up to him. She would not know until tomorrow. She could not risk visiting him with Dukat after her as he was. It would have to wait until work started and that drove her to complete insomnia the rest of the night. She was worried about Garak, but more than anything else, she was furious. She had wanted to protect him but at what cost? Was Garak going o turn into a friend, could she really turn him away so easily for the arms of lust? She took some small measure in knowing she did not suffer these pangs alone.

At least Dukat won't be in any sort of comfort for quite some time. She smirked halfway through the night at the thought.

Morning rose and Garak was nowhere to be found at the Shoppe like he needed to be. No sign of him, yet it was open. Drisana became increasingly concerned, and then she saw the blood trail.

Worried, but not stupid, she cleaned up the blood that had dripped onto the floor here and there with a spare bit of cloth as she went. She was not about to leave his attackers an easy trail to follow. His Shoppe had been opened and Garak was the only one who could do that-she had no doubt that he was hurt, she only hoped he was still alive.

Either way she swore vengeance on the head of Gul Dukat, come what may. No matter what standing Garak took, he was definitely her friend, and she always guarded her friends. But that would also wait. If she was to succeed against Dukat now, she would need help. Trained help.

Moving into the backroom as she wiped up all the blood, she removed the panel he had shown her, climbing down underneath into a long forgotten cargo hold. Engineering thought it was an outdated Cardassian conduit post so Starfleet ignored it. What she found was nothing less than astounding.

Food and water rations, a replicator and weaponry lined the walls, most of which she couldn't even guess at how to hold properly-and Garak.

He was leaning against the back wall, slumped to the ground, covered in gashes from head to foot and bleeding profusely. He was pale and shaking, almost gasping for air from the accumulated blood loss, but still managed a slight smile at the sight of her come to him thorough one thoroughly blackened and puffy eye.

"Guess I really pissed them off huh? Perhaps I should of stopped talking when his family names came into it." Garak said in his usual dry sarcastic tone, coughing up blood in the process. "Call Doctor Bashir. We can't stay here much longer; his guards are going to wipe me and this section out entirely if they don't find a corpse soon."

Garak attempted to stand but fell heavily back against the wall. He looked at Drisana, panting from the exertion. "Drisana, I need you more than ever. I will never leave your side, if you never leave mine."

Drisana helped him to his feet and with far more strength than he had realized she had before-noting, now, that she had been holding back that first night, more than a little pleased but in too much pain to focus on it in any enjoyable context. "Garak," She pressed her face against his, not caring how much blood he got on her. "How could I leave you-who would pay my wages then?" She tried to make it a small joke, but her eyes evaded his carefully and instinctively, and made no promise of forever as she pulled him from that miniature bunker to the center of his Shoppe before coming for Doctor Julian Bashir using the wall-mounted panel all Shoppes came equipped with in case of emergencies.

She did not know Bashir well enough to know if he could keep his mouth shut and be trusted but if Garak wanted Bashir, then Bashir it would be if she had to drag him from the med lab herself. She owed him that much. It never came to that though, Doctor Bashir was closer to Garak than anyone else-excluding herself, and was there in a matter of seconds. Once Doctor Julian Bashir arrived, it took his well-skilled eyes only a fraction of a minute to request an immediate emergency transport to the med lab.

Drisana ran there herself on foot, asking directions from very alarmed looking passerby at the sight of her-disheveled and blood-covered. When she got there, she skid to a halt outside the facility and then walked in, not wanting to cause any further damage or distract from his care. She sat in the waiting room for close to two hours, forcing herself to be still and not pace or go looking for Dukat. When Doctor Bashir finally came into view, she pulled him aside in a 'no-time-to-be-friendly' way after he emerged from the room he had Garak in, who was currently under heavy sedation and sleeping off the worst of the surgical procedures that had to be done.

She demanded an answer at the same time that Julian demanded an explanation. Rather than argue about right of knowledge in a critical time, she let him know what had happened in two words. "Gul Dukat." Doctor Bashir was, for once, relatively quiet as well. He explained the damage in a few basic terms, broken bones, internal bleeding, spinal damage, gashes through major arteries. He finished by telling Drisana if she had been two minutes later in calling him, Garak would be dead. "By the way-how is it you found Garak anyway?" Drisana sighed. At least this one she could explain without any embarrassment or dishonesty. It made for a nice change. "He gave me a job-I just showed up to work on time." Doctor Julian nodded after considering her words but thought her tone was honest enough.

He had never really believed Garak's story of being an exile, a simple Tailor- he always thought Garak was some top level spy the Cardassians kept around to keep an eye on Starfleet activities. He was not surprised Garak had been injured, nor by whom, but the extent to which he had been tortured and left to die was almost too much even for him-and he had seen war battles. The level of cruelty and barbarism, the premeditation of it all horrified the young doctor in a way that chilled him forever, every time he thought about it afterwards.

"So what do we do?" Julian asked her. Drisana blinked at him "I-I don't know what you mean, I was just making sure my boss would li-" Julian cut her off "Oh come on, I know you two are" He lowered his voice to almost whisper level and looked her in the eyes "...you know...and with Gul Dukat involved now we have to do something to get him out of here. If not, there is going to be an 'accident' and it's going to cost you a lot more than a med lab visit."

Bashir rushed out the words and looked sideways, as if looking for an assassin in every corner, or some spy with a hearing device on the ceiling. Drisana grabbed Julian's lab coat and lifted him almost off his feet, livid. "I don't care what you do-but do not repeat what you just said. Not to your personnel, not to Starfleet. Not to your beloved commanding officers. No. one. Got it?"

Julian swallowed hard and nodded quickly. Drisana set him back on his feet and released him but he grabbed her wrist "Just tell me what you are going to do then?" Drisana was about to offer a sharp retort and possibly slap him when the soft, yet ever sarcastic voice she knew so well drifted to her ears and both her and Julian fell silent.

"I think....I have an idea. Provided I am not dead of course." Garak, still fighting off the effects of the sedatives, but alert enough. He had managed to climb out of the bed, dress himself, and was leaning against the door frame. Julian was shocked. Tough son of a bitch, he thought silently. He had used enough sedative to keep a battle-raged Klingon out for at least six hours and it had barely been two; he had never had much experience with Cardassian biology, but he had seen some bodies, corpses of Cardassians, who had died fairly quickly from far lesser injuries. Garak was built to take a beating, if nothing else, that much had been proven.

Drisana went to him and lent herself as a crutch before forcing him to sit in a chair before he collapsed. "Let's hear it." She said.

Dr. Bashir waved his nurses and other curious observers away. They would not bother them here if he gave the order not to. He was young but well respected for his talents, and all who worked under him or were in his care showed respect here. He planned to help out even if he didn't know it, wasn't fully accepting that fact consciously yet.

Garak leaned over to whisper "We need to fake my death, and during communal mourning period, we rig my place of business and quarters to have a couple of explosions and then we take a run about to a star dock and from there transfer to a cruiser and get out of this sector and to Earth."

Drisana went to slap him, but only stopped because of his injuries. "Escape is one thing but blowing up the station? Are you out of your Cardassian mind?" She whispered in an angry, frantic way-Julian Bashir saying almost word for word the same thing but without the loving overtures in Garak's other ear.