Received: from [66.218.66.95] by n1.grp.scd.yahoo.com with NNFMP; 06 Jun 2004 00:26:36 -0000 X-Sender: campbratcher@psci.net X-Apparently-To: ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com Received: (qmail 34363 invoked from network); 6 Jun 2004 00:26:36 -0000 Received: from unknown (66.218.66.218) by m7.grp.scd.yahoo.com with QMQP; 6 Jun 2004 00:26:36 -0000 Received: from unknown (HELO mailstore.psci.net) (63.65.184.2) by mta3.grp.scd.yahoo.com with SMTP; 6 Jun 2004 00:26:35 -0000 Received: from max (as4-d59-rp-psci.psci.net [63.92.109.155]) by mailstore.psci.net (8.12.2/8.12.2) with SMTP id i560QJQX026374 for ; Sat, 5 Jun 2004 19:26:19 -0500 Message-ID: <013301c44b5c$f79184c0$9b6d5c3f@max> To: "ASCEM-S" X-Priority: 3 X-MSMail-Priority: Normal X-Mailer: Microsoft Outlook Express 6.00.2800.1158 X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1165 X-eGroups-Remote-IP: 63.65.184.2 From: "Keith & Jessica Bratcher" X-Yahoo-Profile: sileya MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEM-S-owner@yahoogroups.com Delivered-To: mailing list ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com Precedence: bulk List-Unsubscribe: Date: Sat, 5 Jun 2004 19:26:52 -0500 Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW VOY/DS9 Cardinal Attractors 7/8 (J/G) [NC-17] Reply-To: "Keith & Jessica Bratcher" Content-Type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-ELNK-AV: 0 Please see part 1 for codes, disclaimer, and warnings. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Cardinal Attractors, part 7/8 by Penumbra (c) 2004 ---------------------------------------------------------------------- When she woke up the next morning, it took Janeway a moment to get her bearings and remember where she was. Investigating her surroundings, she found that she was lying face down in a strange bed that smelled of sex and alien incense and that her sore body was surrounded by fine sheets of pure cotton and the warm, golden glow of the sun. She jolted fully awake when the previous night came to her in a flash of memories -- dark, vivid, very erotic memories. "Oh, lord," she groaned and rolled onto her back, throwing an arm across her eyes to shield them from the sun. "Have I gone mad?" she mumbled to no-one particular. Mildly grateful that she was alone in the bed, Janeway stretched and felt her tired muscles protest at the movement. She was sore in places she'd forgotten she had, sticky from goodness knows what, and bathed in a feeling of both smug contentment and terminal embarrassment. All in all, she concluded with unease, the evidence was irrefutable: she'd spent the night with the Cardassian ambassador to the Federation to fuck him six ways from Sunday, and it had been some of the best sex of her life. Propelled to action by that thought, she rolled off the bed and onto her unsteady feet to take stock of her surroundings. She surmised she'd spent the night in a guest room of sorts -- a lavish affair with dark, warm slate floors, thick Kelim rugs, and dark wooden furniture both alien and antique. Wrapping a sheet around herself, she searched for her clothes without luck. When she found the bathroom she gave up on her clothes and made a beeline for the shower. As the warm water cascaded over her aching muscles, Janeway sighed in relief. She counted the bruises that marred her pale skin and touched her shoulders and chest where the half-moon shapes of Garak's bites marked her. The bite marks were no longer bleeding but were still painful and like the pleasant soreness of her insides, they were stark reminders of what had transpired: she'd been fucked thoroughly senseless and she'd enjoyed every breathless, ecstatic second of it. At the thought of her wild abandon and the orgasms she'd screamed through, a small, smug smile rose on Janeway's lips. It had been so very good indeed. When she got out of the shower and towelled the excess water off her body, she made her way to the clothing replicator. "I wonder...," she muttered, eyeing the machine with suspicion. "Computer, one Starfleet uniform." "Please specify rank, department, and measurements," the computer instructed in its standard, pleasant voice. A rueful smile spread on Janeway's lips. Civilian replicators were not supposed to have Starfleet uniform patterns programmed into them but somehow, it didn't surprise her that Garak's did. "Vice admiral, command branch. Starfleet measurements file Janeway theta-three-oh-one." The requested uniform materialised and Janeway dressed quickly. Unable to recognise any of the cosmetics or beauty implements in the room, she ran a hand through her damp hair to set it and exited through the room and into the quiet hallway outside. Deciding on a direction at random, she set off. The corridors, stairs, and occasional opulent foyers of the residence that were done in a curious mix of Cardassian architecture and ancient Egyptian aesthetics were a veritable maze. Janeway wandered around with no real plan, stretching her legs and taking in the art and relics on the walls with the curiosity of an amateur archaeologist. Sometimes, she heard voices and she was almost certain she was being watched but it wasn't until she reached the third foyer that she came across another person. "Alejandro, right?" Janeway asked warily, recognising the man. The young human nodded and smiled. He had impeccable teeth that shone white against the bronze tint of his skin that in turn was accentuated by the eggshell white shorts and button-down shirt he wore. "Yes, admiral," he said in a voice that was surprisingly soft. "You're looking for Elim?" Janeway noted the possessive use of Garak's first name and bit the inside of her cheek to keep her face impassive; jealousy was practically rolling off Alejandro's well-toned if tense form. "Yes, that's right. Is he awake?" she asked cordially even as her mind tried to tell her there was something important about the young man she should recognise. Something very familiar. "He's having his breakfast." Janeway glanced down the hall where Alejandro had pointed. "Thank you," she said and finally smiled. "And he won't mind if I bother him?" Alejandro's smile turned cooler. "I wouldn't know." With that, he turned and continued on down the hall. Janeway watched his retreating back, trying to figure out what had seemed so familiar of him. It wasn't until she'd taken two steps when it came to her: Alejandro was a dead ringer for Julian Bashir. The implications of her realisation made Janeway's mood sink. "Garak, you son of a bitch," she said to no-one particular. "I'll get you for this," she promised as she hurried her steps. * * * * * She found Garak after some further travels in the airy, warm corridors of the residence. At the end of one such hallway was a large dining room with floor to ceiling windows shielded with wooden slats and in the warm morning light squeezing through them, the dark wood furniture and thick rugs of the room seemed almost decadent. Garak sat at one end of the long dining table and he smiled when she entered. "Good morning, Kathryn. I trust you slept well," he said with his habitual hospitability as if this was the most normal of mornings for him. He indicated the lavish breakfast buffet set on the table. "Please, help yourself. Alejandro tells me my chef has outdone himself with the coffee today." Without a word, Janeway poured herself a cup of coffee and took a seat from across Garak. Seemingly unaware of the chill in the air between them and of Janeway's sour disposition, Garak continued to read the padd in his hand with the occasional glance towards her. "This Julian Bashir -- I don't think he's not just anybody. He's more than a Section 31 spy to you, isn't he? And you used me to get to him," Janeway finally said, hearing the storm in her voice. She sipped at her coffee but couldn't taste it through the bitter tang in her mouth. Her palms felt slick against the oiled Merbau wood of the table that was gleaming dully where her nails scratched its surface. "You used me, Garak." If her blunt statement surprised Garak, he didn't show it. Instead, he only smiled in a manner that was almost beatific and put down his padd. "Yes, in a manner of speaking, I did. My apologies. Perhaps there is some way I can compensate for my deception?" For a moment, Janeway regarded the man sitting across from her as her disbelief at his audacity warred with her grudging respect for the fact that he didn't even try to deny what he'd done. She wanted to reach across the table and slap Garak, yet she couldn't help admiring the skill with which he had played the game -- for it was a game he'd devised for her and she'd stumbled right into it like a green cadet. In the end, Janeway settled for a rueful smile and words that came to her from the heart. "'Artifice is allowable in deceiving a rival; we may employ everything against our enemies,'" she intoned quietly. The words were more a reminder for her than anything else. "I'm not your enemy, Garak." Garak's hands were delicate on his cup of tea. "That sounded like a quote," he said and the implied question was obvious in his tone. Not answering right away, Janeway sat back and tapped her fingers against the table. She needed to give Garak some sort of a disincentive, yet she knew a direct threat would not only be beneath her but would go ignored and result in diminished respect. Smiling one of her less pleasant smiles, Janeway decided to play the game like Garak did: not through action but with allegories. "You recall the costume I wore to Captain Picard's ball?" Garak glanced at her beneath his pronounced brows. "That complicated excess of silk and lace? Of course." "And you recall I told you it was done in the style of Louis XIII, a one-time king of France?" Janeway continued, refusing to rise to the bait. Garak's smile was somewhat ingratiating. "As you're well aware, Cardassians have eidetic memory, Kathryn," he said calmly but with growing impatience if such a thing was possible for him in the first place. Janeway didn't think so but decided not to press her luck regardless. "So I am," Janeway said with a smile of her own. "The period in Earth history from which my costume was from is interesting in many ways, one of them being the particulars of Louis XIII's court. Especially his prime minister, a man known as the Bloody Cardinal, is of great interest to me...and to you." "He is?" Garak asked. "How come?" Janeway observed that even though his tone was indifferent, she had his attention. Fleetingly she found it slightly surreal to be politely discussing Earth history over breakfast when not six hours before, she'd been screaming the man's name in the throes of ecstasy. Memories of the night made desire scale her spine and she shrugged the sensation away angrily. It wouldn't do to be distracted when she had a point to make. "You see, Cardinal Richelieu reminds me of you," Janeway continued. She leaned forward, propping her chin up on one hand as she gazed at Garak over the breakfast dishes. "Not only was he a spymaster and a statesman but much like yourself, he was a man of cloth." Garak frowned, obviously decoding Janeway's archaic simile. "But I'm not a--" he began but paused. His eyes lit up with a fire that made a pleasant shiver run through Janeway's core. "Very clever, Kathryn," Garak murmured, his voice gone low and intimate. "Please, continue." Clearing her throat with the futile aim of clearing her head, Janeway forged on. "Cardinal Richelieu is the originator of the quote that came to me earlier," she said and sipped at her cooling coffee. "He was so much like you -- a grey eminence, who pulls strings behind the scenes and never gets his hands dirty or allows his true nature to be exposed." Janeway paused and met Garak's steady gaze. "But I figured out your game, Garak." "Regardless of how your Cardinal Richelieu saw things, I don't consider you to be an enemy, Kathryn," Garak said quietly and picked up his tea again. His smile turned softer. "What I did was merely necessary, not an act of malice." "In that case, I advise you to refrain from deceiving me, ambassador, because that's what it takes to make an enemy out of me," Janeway said, relieved that she was able to keep her cool, if only barely so. "Next time, you could just ask." Garak's expression turned serious. "Believe me when I say that I had no choice in the matter. Affairs such as this," he said, gesturing vaguely around them, "are delicate by nature and cannot be handled directly. If there's something I can do to repay you, just say it, Kathryn." Janeway snorted in disdain. "You could start by sounding sincere when you apologise." "A lifetime of conditioning is a hard thing to overcome," Garak said and his familiar charming if insincere smile was back. "I won't apologise for what I am." "You could've just asked me, Garak!" Janeway barked, suddenly at the end of her tether. She set her coffee cup down so hard she thought she was going to shatter the saucer. "You could've asked me and I would've helped you. Yet you chose to go about it in this infuriating cloak and dagger manner, using not only me but also the Federation as your errand boys to get even with a former *fuck toy* of yours!" Garak blinked, slowly, obviously blindsided by Janeway's outburst. Recovering quickly, he rested both palms flat on the table and leaned forward. His royal blue gaze was intense and far colder than Janeway had ever seen it. "Don't try to tell me you didn't use me as well, Kathryn. You like making a grand entrance and what better way than to arrive to Captain Picard's gathering than at the arm of your pet Cardassian? Or does it stroke your ego that I chose to take you to my bed even though I usually have men as my, as you put it, 'fuck toys'?" Garak spat. Janeway's eyes widened at his uncharacteristically coarse language. "Or perhaps you were just bored and decided to play nice with the alien, without realising the alien was to play you?" He clicked his tongue as if scolding her. "Don't pretend innocence. It doesn't become you, Kathryn." Stunned to momentary silence, Janeway choked on her outrage. "That's Admiral Janeway to you, ambassador," she finally managed and stood up. "And I don't know why I expected anything else than deceit from a Cardassian -- after all, all we've done is help your people back on their feet and this is the thanks we get from the official representative of the Cardassian Republic? How very unsurprising." Biting off her last words, Janeway balled her napkin and threw it on the table, not even meeting Garak's eyes for she knew there would be nothing but seething anger there. Turning to go, she didn't get more than three steps towards the door until Garak's quiet words stopped her. "Have you ever loved someone with all your heart, only to lose them?" There was no anger and no rancour in Garak's voice, only despair so bleak and black it made Janeway's rage drain in an instant. She turned and gaped at the man in shock. Seated still like a statue and his chin propped up on his entwined fingers, Garak was gazing back at her expectantly. "Yes," Janeway whispered automatically. There were so many she'd lost count. "Yes, I have. Many times. Why?" "I'm not ungrateful of the help Federation has provided for Cardassia but my people are dying regardless of it. Dying of thirst, hunger, and diseases so horrible that I can't stand to hear the details. I can't read the reports any more, Kathryn," Garak said and laughed. It was an unpleasant sound, a bark of dry air that held not a shred of humour. "I'm a former Obsidian Order interrogator who used not to bat an eyelid at violence or torture and now, I can't stand to face the reality of what has become of my home world." "Where are you going with this, Garak?" Janeway asked, still rooted to the spot despite her best intentions. The pain and frustration in his voice were almost too much for her to bear. Garak shrugged and through the fine silk of his robe, Janeway could see the tension that corded his muscles. "It seems that everything I've ever loved I end up killing. I love Cardassia, yet I was party to her downfall in the war against Dominion. Twelve hundred million people since the end of war," Garak said, and his voice cracked at the last word. "Twelve hundred million dead and here I sit, lightyears away from home and with no way of helping the ones still alive." "It's not your fault," Janeway said, her voice gone to a whisper. "This is your job now." Garak bowed his head as if he was in physical pain and when he spoke, his voice was thick with that same pain. "The Federation are a tourniquet, Kathryn, a crutch for a man with no arms. There's no saving Cardassia, not any more." "You can do more good for Cardassia here than over there." "You don't understand, Kathryn," Garak said and stood so abruptly that he sent his chair tumbling down. It landed with a resounding crash that made Janeway flinch. "Everything I do," Garak said with emphasis, leaning forward with his hands on the table, "*everything* I do turns to ashes. Everyone I love, I end up destroying. It's what I've done to Cardassia, and it's what I did to Julian." Understanding dawned on Janeway. "You...*loved* him," she whispered, shocked. "And you still love him, don't you? And that's why you needed my help -- not for vengeance, but to get him out of Section 31." Garak's smile was hollow. "If I can't help my beloved Cardassia, the least I can do is help Julian when I can." "Does...does he know?" Janeway asked, still reeling from the shock. "Of you?" "No, and he never will because it's simply too late for us. Once, I had the power to help him and I didn't and as a result of my inaction, he's become what he is now," Garak said and he sounded centuries older than he really was. After a deep breath, he smiled a watery smile. "We were -- we are not meant to be but still, my love for him is the only good and pure thing left in me, Kathryn. I cherish it as it is, regardless of the distance between us or his meaningless dalliances or my poor substitutes." "Substitutes?" Janeway's heart ached for Garak and the bleak hopelessness in his voice. "You mean Alejandro?" Garak nodded. "Among others." "And was I just one of them, one of your substitutes?" "You were -- are -- something completely different, Kathryn. Unique," he said and his smile turned a notch warmer. "You could never be anything less than what you are." With a deep breath, Janeway made a split-second decision. She wouldn't forget that Garak had used her but perhaps she could forgive herself her folly in the matter. There were no winners in his game, she realised, only people. Walking back to the table, her feet silent on the plush rug and the cool slate stones of the floor, Janeway re-seated herself. Watching Garak and knowing him as well as she did, she knew he wouldn't want her pity, but at least she could be a placebo for his proud, broken soul. She waited until Garak had sat down again, too, and then smiled. "Talk to me about him, Garak," she said with all the warmth she could muster. "Tell me about Julian." ----------------------------- End of part 7/8. [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]