A Temporal Shiver

Drisana raised her hands and took a couple of deep breathes. "Okay, blowing up anything is out-it doesn't matter who does it, we could even try to make it look accidental it would still cause a war. This space station serves as defense for Bajor, or possibly for Cardassia -either way, with it under attack from an 'unknown' source with tensions still as high as they are, a war would break out quickly. All people need on either side right now is an excuse to go at it again. I know, I'm new, but I have ears and eyes. Secondly, I am still a human and this is now a human-dominated base. Thank Starfleet for that not me, I had nothing to do with it. That said-I think you need to die." She looked at Garak and just waited for a yes or no reply.

Julian almost fainted when she said that.

Drisana was quick to add when she saw the look upon the face of the young doctor in her still-whispering tone "Of course not really die-if I wanted Garak dead I could of just walked out of the Shoppe and 'seen' nothing. How do we make it fool Dukat though? You know that asshole won't take any chances. Besides....I want to pay him a visit afterwards."

Something about her tone left no doubt that very, very few men without a death wish would like to be in Dukat's shoes if she got a hold of him. He would be lucky if he came out in half as good of condition as she had found Garak in that morning.

Julian Bashir was not a man with a death wish and he felt a shiver at her words-or was it the tone? Either way, he was very glad to be himself at this particular moment. Taking a moment to swallow hard, hardly believing what he was getting involved in but also subconsciously getting a bit of a thrill out of it, Julian spoke up.

"I can fool the vital readings, put him in an internal stasis that will shut down everything. It will only last 30 minutes though so we would have to prepare it well and...." Bashir stopped, and looked at Garak, then Drisana, Usually he did not divulge patient information but in this case he would make an exception"...and, how long can you stay in that box, unmoving, without sedation? If things go wrong you have to move fast but you-well-I remember when the turbo-lift broke down. You don't exactly cope well in tight places." Bashir put it as gently as possible.

Drisana looked back and forth between the two. "You...you're claustrophobic?" She smirked a bit. "Well thank the gods we have found an ailment common to both of our races. Luckily not to me though." She turned to Bashir. "Look, I don't know the medicine now, or how to treat a Cardassian wound. But I do know how to hunt. You get me a layout of the air ducts." Julian blinked at her "Air ducts. You are joking? She is joking?" Julian looking from one to the other. Drisana smiled at them both. "Oh what's the matter? Never play hide and seek as kids?"

Gul Dukat paced the conference room slowly, hands held in military fashion behind his back. Garak was dead. Or as good as dead. He only let him 'live' long enough to ensure Drisana would find him. He also knew she would come for him. Good. He let it leek out as a rumor, but only to those concerned, that his men would blow up an entire section of the station if they did not find Garak dead. He would never do that though-it would look bad on his record. However, he knew Garak would take the threat seriously and fall back to his "If I cannot have it neither can you" mentally. If Garak blew the station, or even part of it, away, that's all the better. He would let Garak die a slow miserable death and he would take Drisana.

She was willing and Gul Dukat knew it, could smell it about her just as he knew she understood him, his desires. She could fight him all she wanted but he knew her no's were just thinly veiled yes's. The ridges that ran on his legs and back raised slightly just at the thought of it. Ah, it would be glorious.

One old betrayal repaid-Garak had been responsible for the death of his father, had killed him with his Obsidian Order and assassin training. Garak had said it was never personal. For Gul Dukat, it always was.

The one thing Gul Dukat had not planned on was Drisana's simple honesty. She really did have a job and found Garak before he could die or blow up that section of the station or both. Gul Dukat was simply waiting for the death report to role in now, or for reports of an explosion of unknown origin. Either way would suit his needs just fine.

When the death report finally arrived he wondered what had taken so long, but then smiled to himself. In his arrogance he wrote it off that Garak must simply not of been found until long after the fact.

Well, my dear childhood friend do not worry. I will attend your funeral. I will do my mourning for you-right next to your female. Or should I say, my future wife.

Gul Dukat went to freshen up and to put on his dress uniform-reserved for ceremonies and funerals, it was highly decorated with all his badges he had earned over the years of his service. He almost whistled as he calmly dressed, planning to be in attendance as one of the very first visitors. It simply would not do to keep his old friend waiting.

Drisana however had other plans; leaving Garak in the care and planning stages with Bashir, Drisana studied the airducts. This place was far more complicated than she had ever seen but she only needed three routes. One to Gul Dukat's ship, One to his room, and one to the temple where every race and religion was welcomed, now being used for the funeral rites of Garak. It was rather impressive how many people showed up ahead of time. Most were simply curious, others wanted details and gossip, but most of them while not close to him had come to respect him on this station as it's tailor-and even some Bajorans viewed him as the only 'decent' Cardassian to set foot on the station since it had been first constructed.

Drisana moved through the air ducts with ease once she had figured out which pathway led where, which was no small feat for someone untrained. She stopped at Gul Dukat's ship and left a simple note, with a black rose and small, transparent poisoned sewing needle inside. All of it symbolic and she was sure he'd get more out of that simple message than any long-winded letter or threat she could make. He note itself was simple. She had written only one statement on it in the center. "Catch me if you can."

Next, she headed to the funeral. She watched the back side of the black and silver, Cardassian style coffin and saw, clearly, Garak's eyes looking back at her through a small sliding panel on the side, It had been a rush job but it served its purpose-the fresh air kept the claustrophobia to tolerable limits, even if it was extremely unpleasant for him in the tight, dark space surrounding him. He could at least keep from going into total mania from it with this little reminder of freedom so close at hand. He also had a small implanted button inside his chest he kept his hand over, placed so it would look like he was merely laid out in the fashion of all Cardassians once he pressed the button that would send him into a total body stasis, dead for all pretense and purpose for the next half hour.

Drisana stared deeply into his eyes and wished she could pull him out of the box now, pull him to her hard and pin him to the ground and ride him, still injured or not. She was about to go having seen for herself that the plan was working so far.

Inside the box, Garak was nervous as all get out, the ridges were pulsing, the heat rolling and boiling, but he breathed slowly and softly as eulogizers and superior officers spoke of the beloved tailor. However, a man that no one remembered seeing before arose to speak....His name was Gundak Caulderson, an old training partner of Garak's Obsidian Order days. Garak knew the voice, and he began shaking in fear that Drisana would disavow and disown him for his cover up.

Drisana was about to head back to the last air duct to meet Gul Dukat head when he returned from seeing his 'dead' friend get his last rites read when she heard this one unknown speaker talk of Garak in a way that spoke of long time knowing, and as more than a just a random acquaintance. It sounded as if he had known him for years. She was curious to know who or what this man represented.Pausing, she listened in.

Gundak spoke of their time together on the job,(Though in typical Cardassian fashion was immensely careful to leave out any and all details as to what jobs these might of been), and their party days when they were younger. But his allotted time ended and he stepped away.

The ceremony was coming to a close, as the casket was slowly lowered into position for burial.

Meanwhile, Dukat was back in his office, re-reading some well-worn, very old letters, letters from his days of knowing Garak, Drisana watched him shed genuine tears, while reading some of the bolded words in the letters, "Father", "Murder".

Drisana was angry-she felt used all around and if any of them survived this she was going to have to start carrying around a list to keep track of all the people she needed to beat the crap out of. Why had Garak never, not once, mentioned he had ever been anything but a Tailor to her.

Certainly he had ample opportunity before Gul Dukat's goons had gotten to him. She forced herself to focus. Punish him later. She was on the grate just over the head of Dukat and was about to bring to crashing down quite literally on top of his head, but she stopped. Crying, Gul Dukat? He was alone-there was no one there to put a show on for. No guards in his room and his tears feel under her watchful eyes.

Pressing hard on the grate with her knees-grates which were never meant to hold weight-she fell directly on top of Dukat's head, knocking them both backwards, him tumbling to the ground and her right on top of him, and with one arm around his throat and a simple looking ball-point pen in her other hand -the replicator was a useful bit of technology that she had made sure to learn well as it gave her a taste of the home she had always known from time to time.

Drisana grinned in true malevolence. "Good Hell, Dukat. Stop that crying, I'm here to help you join your friend!" She almost screamed the last words as she thrust the tip of the ball point pen towards his throat. He didn't try to resist her until the last moment. The blow hit it's mark and deep, he had defended himself just enough to keep the impact from being lethal.

He felt the impact of the blow, felt himself starting to choke on his own blood and he staggered quickly from the room. He wondered why he did not stop her, what caused him to give up quite so easily. He was a master of hand to hand combat and could of easily disarmed her, tortured her, killed her, done anything he liked. What made him hesitate? It didn't matter. A small lapse in judgment was all it was he decided.

He would get to his ship, have this wound treated and then deal with her. Once he opened the door his guards saw him and he motioned for them to take him to the ship immediately. A couple also saw Drisana there, her left hand covered in Dukat's blood. They were about to move onto her but he motioned for them to stop. Drisana wiped Dukat's blood onto a small portion of the green-blue tunic that had been Garak's favorite. It had been covered everywhere with Garak's blood, completely ruined, except for this small, back portion scrap. She enjoyed the irony more than anything, and decided to pocket the scrap as the blood started to dry slowly. It would make a nice present for Garak, one day.

She stood and watched as the confused guards and Dukat headed towards the ship. "Debt repaid, Dukat. Your move." She said simply.

Drisana climbed sorely back onto the desk, reaching up and pulled herself inside the air duct, and returned to the funeral. It was time for Garak to have a miraculous recovery. She wondered if the plan B on the ship would claim Dukat's life. She somehow doubted it. He was much like herself, as much as she hated to admit it in that sense, and so was Garak. They had all survived things that had dropped many a more powerful and numerous set of beings.

Still, she knew he would not be coming back from his ship. He would leave now, but only temporarily. Just as she was convinced of his ability to survive, she was also convinced he would find out of Garak's survival and the cycle of vendetta would continue. Tit for tat, or some such thing she had heard it called in her youth.

Back at the funeral once everyone had gone but Doctor Bashir she kicked open the duct and pulled the coffin box lid open-one nice improvement was how much lighter coffins had become. She almost laughed at the thought of being glad of something like that but then she looked at Bashir. "Do it, hurry!" Drisana knew nothing of the how's or why's of what Bashir had done, other than it had a time limit and knew they were really pushing the thirty minute mark and if he was not brought out of his internal stasis soon he really would be dead.

"Got it!" Julian said, springing to life beside her, seeming thrilled for the chance to do something besides wait. He pressed a hypo to Garak's neck just beneath his jawline and with a push of a button, filled him full of pure adrenaline, serotonin, and dopamine. The basic brain function responded to these, the most basic building blocks of all humanoid based life forms. Quickly in a cascading effect the rest of his systems started responding-his heart rate increased, he started to breathe again, his color-albeit unique in her eyes regardless of the situation, returned to normal.

Garak opened his eyes and moved around a bit, sitting up before pulling his legs over the side of the coffin-at least now free to move, free of that oppressing mania he suffered from whenever he was forced into a tight container. Julian looked from one to the other and with more than a little awkwardness backed out of the temple shutting it's door behind him. Drisana stared at Garak as he sat there, legs hanging over the side of the coffin. She said not a single word.

"I guess you heard the whole, me being with the Obsidian Order thing. It was better that you did not know until this time, it was not my choice to wait, but I had to wait for a better moment...."He was struggling for a good excuse, something the usually slippery Garak never had a problem with. Julian Bashir was impressed that she could make him more nervous than being stuck in stasis.

At almost the same time the three of them noticed three Cardassian guards trying to look into the now locked chapel, and were working on getting the door open. Hoping they didn't notice the sounds coming from inside, the three replaced the lid on the coffin then slipped back through the duct work and deep into the bowels of the station....thinking of the final portion of their plan...

"Well now that the good Doctor is God-like, what do we do now?" Garak was not usually open to suggested but he felt he had made enough of a mess of this to let someone else take over right now would be a good thing, although he would never admit to it as such.

Drisana had had it. With the flat of her hand she swatted Garak on the ass with a sound that definitely carried and a sting that went through the cloth he wore. She didn't stop there but continued to spank him a good twenty times before finally stopping. "A better time, like, when, per say? Before or after someone tries to kill you for no apparently good reason?" She was angry and relieved and happy and sad all at once. She had been hoping this station could be home but no-not now. When she finally stopped spanking him, much to the relief of a highly embarrassed doctor who truly wanted to know nothing of this sight, she sighed and shrugged once.

"Home- Earth, anyway. It may not be a home I remember, or a home you've ever known, but it is so far away Dukat will not be getting to you unless he chooses to retire early. Somehow, I can't picture him doing that willingly. Doctor Bashir, I am afraid I'll have to owe you a favor for a while. You will need to let Starfleet know what happened, how despicable Dukat still is. This time it was personal but think how quickly he moved to attack me when he did not even know me." She didn't bring up the fact she had enjoyed sparing with him. She never would. Drisana simply continued to speak, trying to be as logical and as fast about this as possible. Time was still very limited.

"Not to mention I think every Bajoran who ever met him would willingly tell you the same thing. Let them-Sisko, Odo, everyone who can do something about it- know. Meantime-I need to see Quark, get those run about tickets. Time to close Shoppe." She said, and looked at Garak to see what his response to all of this would be now she had finished being angry and gotten the doctor to agree to keep a close eye on Dukat and his minions.

"OWWWW!" Garak sarcastically screeched in very fake agony at the sting to his backside. Then he straightened up a bit and looked at her seriously for a moment. "But, I guess I deserved that. I am sorry. Never again will I lie." "To you." He added as an afterthought. He didn't want to break a promise of not lying with a lie, after all. It would be unseemly.

After a few twists and turns in the labyrinth of ductwork, they headed to Quark's, who was surprised to see how they had gotten there-but with a couple of slips of latinum forgot all about it just as quickly. Good old Quark, the one Ferengi you could always bribe and know it would stick. Here, they parted with the good Doctor and got their tickets, heading out to the run about launching pads as fast they could without actually running,

The two headed quickly for the docking bay and entered the shuttle. Holding hands, they look at one another...."So shall we battle the Klingons next or just stick to seeing how far Ducat will go to come after us?" Garak says as the ship begins to lift and slowly pass through its automatic launching sequences before changing direction suddenly, taking them towards Earth.

Drisana looked at him and couldn't help but smirk. She did adore his sense of humor and couldn't hide it. "I think we can manage. You got me, after all. If you behave, that is...so behave." She said softly in his ear and drew her tongue up his left neck ridge to his cheek, then traced it lightly over his lips making him want so much more as she noticed by the slight rise between his legs. She felt the tip of his maleness with a fingertip lightly and leisurely before moving away from him to a front, single occupancy seat and pulling out a magazine.

Drisana grinned at the look on his face behind her digital magazine. Some things are priceless, and teasing this male was definitely among them in her opinion.

It was a long trip by run about, as they called what in her time where simply referred to as shuttlecraft. Run abouts-a stupid name in her opinion, but then she hasn't been impressed with any of the humans from this era. She couldn't really count Bashir as human due to his breeding-a product of illegal genetic engineering, he would be better than other humans. She hadn't known that at the time but Garak was talkative and eager to fill her in on absolutely every dirty detail he had ever heard, or so it seemed to her.

Try as they might there were simply no passenger cruisers going towards Earth anytime soon. They would have to keep switching from space port to space port but it would still be by these run abouts, all the way across the long sectors of space. It was going to take almost a full year to get to Earth. More humans to deal with there, but at least it was familiar turf for one of them.

Drisana looked at Garak over the top of the digital magazine. Just me and him for company, with an automatic pilot to guide us home and land us there. A year...it is a long time to be cooped up. She tapped the top of her magazine and watched subtly at the gaze of longing Garak gave her almost non-stop, the way he adored her every move with open admiration.