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Limitless	By : CyreliaJ Category: Star Trek > Deep Space 9 Views: 2154 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek Deep Space Nine of any of its characters. I'm also not making any money off of this.

Chapter List
- 7
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- 9
I was hoping I'd make it before a whole year passed and wow it went by so quickly! But in spite of a million distractions this is absolutely not abandoned and I do have the end in mind a few chapters down. Thanks to everyone for sticking with me, this really has been one of my favorite things to write.

As for this chapter you can see we're getting much closer to the height of what's going on and I guarantee I think the end might blow some people away. Really this chapter might be somewhat shocking so for the warnings. Language and sex definitely. Now those who've read this far know that Julian/Jules has been rather busy with the ladies and my apologies the sexual content in this chapter isn't Garak/Bashir. Though to be technical you could see it as more Jules rather than Julian (that will make sense, trust me.) There's a bit more Garak/Bashir flashback bloodplay as well in case that's not your cup of tea.

A lot more is revealed and a lot more questions but look for an Interlude chapter with possibly more answers. C&C is definitely welcome!

   “Gotta say, Jules, yer playing with fire, there.” Miles took a long drink as he glanced over to the table where the newly arrived Starfleet officers sat conversing. Between two junior engineers, Dr. Elizabeth Lense sat sneaking periodic glances toward both him and Julian. Julian merely snorted as he broke another meticulous piece of his scone off bringing it to his mouth.

“You’re the one on your second cup of Raktajino,” he teased before eating. Julian spared a small wave but turned his attention back to Miles quickly enough. “But I don’t see why you would still need that as a crutch. If anything your body’s probably metabolizing the caffeine too quickly to be effective.” He glanced back down missing the slight frown as Miles pushed the drink off to the side. “You only think that you need it.”

“Yeah… force of habit I suppose.”

   Miles looked quickly between Julian and the Dr. Lense before taking a small round object from his pocket; a dataport which he looked at for a long time. Julian opened his mouth but Miles spoke first.

“Think you might invite her over then?” He placed it back. Julian’s eyes never left it. His attention had become far more sharply focused since that night he disappeared from Quark’s in a rush. “You kept the doctor all to yourself last time she was here.”

“Jealous, Chief?” Julian took a drink of tea looking up from dark rimmed eyes. “Ah, but she isn’t the one I’m waiting for.” He sat up straighter, looking quickly through the replimat. His index finger tapped the table as he searched looking perfectly cocksure.

“Keeping an eye out for Leeta, are ya?” Julian snorted, turning back, looking over Miles’ shoulder before turning back to the scone.

“Hardly.” He took another careful bite. “We’ve made no promises whatever she might think. But enough about me, what about you? You can only how frightfully busy I’ve been.” He smirked as his eyes went to that table again. “Well no need to go into all that. I mean the metabolization, of course.”

   Miles sat back, picking up the cup with a contemplative expression on his face.

“Yeah fine. Taking a bit of getting used to.” He looked about to take a drink but instead set the cup down and once more pushed it away. “It’s different like you said. I mean work and all. It’s easy. Sometimes it’s almost too easy.” Miles absently felt his pocket. “You know, you never think you’re gonna miss the challenge, all the little things that go wrong, all the puzzles, and those things that used to give you such a headache but… what else is there, right?” Julian hardly seemed to be paying him any attention as he vacillated that focus between the pastry and the door.

“I’ve heard it said that ignorance is bliss, Chief,” He tossed out offhandedly. “But I’ve never …” he licked at the crumbs on the tip of his thumb. “…no I suppose I did believe once that ignorance is a kindness of a sort but you believe all sorts of nonsense when you’re young and ignorance is all you have. Does that mean it’s finished?”

   Julian looked at him eagerly, eyes darting from pocket to his face. Miles hesitated for a moment but shook his head.

“I can’t... I’m sorry, Juli... Jules.” Miles noticed how Julian nearly jumped at the near slip of his name in a way that seemed too frightened even for him.

“No, you can,” Julian corrected him firmly, “It’s that you won’t.” He went back to watching the door, and Miles looked at him confusion flitting across his face quickly turning to a dawning realization. “You’ve got something else up your sleeve, dontcha? Well look, yer not getting it back, I told you we don’t need it and-“

“And I already accounted for the eighty seven percent chance that you wouldn’t go through with it so you’re perfectly free to go.”

“Did you hear me, I just said I’m not-“

   “Keep it,” Julian cut him off with a wave, the smirk on his face causing a frown to grow in direct proportion on Miles’ face. “Really, Chief,” He laughed softly. “You can keep the damn thing as a souvenir for all I care, bronze it, burn it, make it into a little necklace for Molly.” Julian’s face lit up as he watched, and Mile’s saw Jadzia Dax enter the replimat fresh faced, smiling, holding up a finger for the two of them to wait a moment as she ordered herself a drink. Julian didn’t see the ashen look on Miles’ face, his own attention focused solely on Jadzia. He laughed softly.

“You haven’t been this quiet since I beat you last in racquetball, Chief,” Julian murmured under his breath flush with excitement. Miles put his attention towards the table breathing in and out slowly, eyes flickering back and forth in fast contemplation that itself seemed so fast it made him uncomfortable. He looked conflicted as she took a seat before taking a long drink of the cooling Raktajino.

   Julian looked at her with a brilliant smile, dazzling, almost giddy as she sat down.

“Gentlemen... you know I’m just burning with curiosity about this... top secret meeting you asked me to.” Miles stopped a quick snap of his head to Julian, setting the drink back down slowly. Julian only glanced at him a moment.

“I knew you would be, darling. I thought of all the officers on this station who might help us with a little difficulty we’ve been having, you off all people are the most brilliant, qualified, and dare I say completely ravishing.” He leaned in and took her hand with exaggerated flare eyes bright. Jadzia simply looked back at him, taking notice of the silver earring and chain as he graced her with a playful tip of his head.

“Well, whatever it is, I think this is the happiest I’ve seen you in a while.”

   “Is that the effect a certain Bajoran is having on you?” Her look was downright mischievous as she too seemed to take notice of Dr. Lense just finishing her meal with a quick meaningful glance at Julian. “Or maybe something a little more than that, Julian?” The response to that name was immediate and raw. Julian let go of her hand and sat back with a slightly awkward twitch of his shoulders, expression flashing inward for a moment. He sat blinking, looking at her glass as if he wasn’t quite sure where he was.

“Is it..?” he trailed off with a nervous cross of his arms, a squeeze of his elbow. He looked around quickly, taking in the scene, looking to Miles who seemed as confused as he. Jadzia was immediately contrite.

“Of course, Jules,” she emphasized. “You’d think of all people I’d know better.” He relaxed, back, blinking again like a rapid LED processing, as if he weren’t entirely sure what had happened. Whatever it was his expression was dark.

   “Yes well I’d imagine it must be galling, it must be offensive, it must be so completely aggravating when people forget to address you properly.” His face was tense but he brought it under control as soon as he looked at her. Julian leaned in, hands folded on the table shifting a leg underneath himself. “Sorry. So sorry, you did say I was doing so much better didn’t you? And I am. Oh you... you can only imagine, how much better. You know, I can only begin to imagine what that must be like to be joined with the symbiont. All those memories, all those thoughts… those… unwanted intrusions swirling around your head at the most inopportune of times…” Julian laughed abruptly, softly to himself with a shake of his head. “But then one day it’s gone and you know don’t even realize how much you’d grown accustomed to it.” He stopped at her sober expression. “But of course you do. Verad. That’s low of me. You have my apologies.”

   “It’s alright, It’s already forgotten. Even that memory is part of me, of who I am. I wouldn’t take any of it back. And, I also wanted to let you know that Jake was a wonderful host for Torias so you can stop apologizing every time you see me. You have no idea how glad I am to see you recovering, Jules. We all are.” She smiled at him. He smiled back brilliantly. Miles appeared faintly nauseous before joining in looking about to take his leave.

“Yes, you all do worry about me so terribly don’t you…” His tone was slightly dark, passing quickly like a sudden storm, the eye bright and calm as Julian shook his head. “But of course that’s not why I asked you to join us, darling.” Miles stopped his ascent looking at Julian not quite able to hide the unease.

“Really, it can wait. Can’t it wait, Jules?”

   “Wait? No… one might say I’ve had a lifetime of waiting.” He laughed softly his fingers stealing to the silver chains they’d all been used to seeing. Those fingers stopped, the jewelry no longer there, only Miles seeming to notice. “Care to venture a guess?” He had his hand up, knuckles pressed to his lips instead childishly as she shook her head.

“I don’t have any idea. Tell me.”

“We need you to settle a bet, darling. A little wager. A little gentleman’s discussion.” He looked over just daring Miles to contradict him.

“Matter of fact we don’t.” Julian shrugged it off with a toss of his head and a wave.

“There’s no need to be sore, Chief, you haven’t lost… yet.” There some something else that drew Miles’ attention to an inward riddle just then that Julian took no notice of. It held him silent.

   Jadzia watched his face eagerly, leaning in as if the three of them were co conspirators and it was with an exaggerated look around that Julian’s eyes swept the room before reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small cylinder, setting it down in front of her.

“Julian!” she gasped unaware that she’d once again addressed him incorrectly in her excitement. “Where did you get that?!” He sat up straight, looking almost terrified at the sudden exclamation.

“Yeah, ‘Julian’,” Miles cut in, a sing song mocking repeat as Julian’s eyes swam with panic. “Tell us where you got it.” He crossed his arms and watched Julian flounder, clear his throat and practically grab his tea up in front of him with a gulp, splashing it over the side.

   Julian made a face at the bitterness.

“From the bloody Scorpio killer I’d say,” Miles answered his own question as Julian shook his head quickly.

“No, Scorpio killed Orion. Not the…” he cleared his throat as Jadzia turn to him with suspicion. “It’s a joke in poor taste, I’m afraid.” He shook his head. “No I… it’s something we were working on and it was er… like a puzzle you see.” He waved his hands like he was working an invisible rubik’s cube. “I… I wanted. We wanted to see if it was possible… no… sorry, let me back up I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me start over.” He clasped his hands in front on the table making a long study of them. He looked as if he didn’t know what to say all of a sudden.

   “I suppose…” he looked up with a frown. “I suppose the nature of the disagreement stems from Khan. You know… that Khan.” He gave a waggle of his fingers like some magic. Jadzia shook her head looking faintly amused.

“You’ve totally lost me, Julian.” The name slip didn’t register at all this time and Julian looked far more like the doctor as he pushed the hair out of his face and looked to Miles.

“Isn’t that it though, Chief? I... I said if Khan Noonien Singh… if he were to have this device here… if one were to engineer a dataport to take into account the genetic engineering, the advanced neural pathways… I said that one could make a device that far exceeds what any normal dataport is capable of.” Julian finished with a somewhat incredulous half laugh. “I really… I really don’t see where the conflict is now. After all our… our discussion.”

   “And I said to you, Julian,” Miles said again and this time Julian didn’t react at all to the use of the name. “That Khan Noonien Singh the mad man, the monster who ruled over us “lesser men” like cattle wouldn’t see the need for such a thing in the first place. If he’s already superior. I said if he’s so damn brilliant being the next stage of human evolution then he doesn’t need to do more than he’s already done now does he?” Julian sat back his face falling, quiet, staring hard again at the table before looking up at Miles face pleading.

“And I said… I said you don’t understand. I said that if you were Khan. If you were there on a dying planet if you were all alone in the universe watching your friends die, watching everyone you loved die because of a bunch of parasites... a bunch of body stealing invaders… If you’d reached that level of despair, if you knew no other way out, if that fear gripped around your heart and threatened to strangle you. If you…”

   He put his hand to his heart, to some imaginary injury, eyes distant as if he were remembering something he tried to forget. “If you knew what it was like to feel that helpless… to know that what you know and what your abilities are now… that they mean nothing, Miles…”

“It didn’t have to be that way for him as you well know and it doesn’t...” Miles looked at Jadzia momentarily flustered. “I think maybe we need a minute here.”

“Of course if you need it, but if I can help then-“

“No! Please. Stay. Just... just hear me out, please. Even if you don’t agree just... just let me finish.” Julian took a deep breath. “I’ve had enough minutes, Chief.” He ran fingers through his hair anxiously looking as if he might tear strands out by the roots.

   “I’ve had enough time locked away in the dark... Time... it’s time you know. The most precious commodity there is. I think an eternity went by... maybe it was only seconds. Well, they say there are tricks to stretch minutes into eons if you can stomach the boredom but... but that’s not what this is about.” Julian picked the dataport back up looking at it closely. “I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death. I read that when I was a child. Thought for some time I might be a chemist but... you know that story.” He turned it over in it’s hand cradling it gently. “But what if everyone could be saved? That’s why the augments... why Khan was created... to save everyone.”

“Julian, the man was a monster who-”

   “You know, Leonard didn’t believe in monsters.” Julian turned to look at Jadzia who was regarding him with sympathy. “He once wrote to me the only true monsters exist in the nightmares of our imaginations.”

“You can always tell a man who’s never encountered the Borg,” Miles murmured.

“What?” Julian looked at her.

“Leonard McCoy I mean.” She grinned at Miles. “And I don’t think you’d be saying that if you ever met him. We exchanged letters for a long time after we met. When I was Emony, that is. I didn’t really believe him when he said he’d write me.” She laughed. “We didn’t know each other well at all back then but I learned when Leonard said he was going to do something... I didn’t think I’d have much interest in his work but when he began describing all these , other people they were meeting Lela was just so fascinated by their governments, their customs, anything she could squeeze out of him. And music too. I couldn’t play a note on anything but I loved the compositions he’d send me.” Jadzia’s eyes took on a distant dreamer’s stare. “When he wrote about Khan it was near... Christmas. He sent along Bach’s Canata... BMV 147.”

   Miles’ brow knit trying to place the Earth song.

“Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring,” Julian filled in watching her almost hypnotized. “That is only the last bit, the rest of the song is well...”

“Leonard called it a religious experience. That and Amazing Grace. But you know I think I preferred when he sent me Lalo Schifrin.” She shook her head. “But what I was saying is that Khan... He wasn’t a monster, he wasn’t even a god as some people might say. He was just a man. A very sad man in the end.”

“Yer giving him way too much credit there, Jadzia.” Miles sighed, seeing she was already on to the next thing that caught her attention which was right back to the dataport. She picked it up, examining it closely, a sparkle starting in her eyes.

“But this, this is incredible! Where’s the coupler for it?”

“It ah... doesn’t have one. The gentleman that sold it to me said it was the latest technology. Or well it was designed specifically for the...” he stopped himself just barely, looking back to Miles for direction.

   “You might as well say it, Julian. Starfleet sent a transmission on it just the other day. Phoenix. It was designed to work with Phoenix users who’re eh... trying to remember what they call them ya know cycling on the drug. Pretty sure it’ll wreck yer brain otherwise.”

“It’s not a drug,” Julian protested immediately, pedantically. Miles looked at him ignoring that for the moment. “It’s a mitochondrial virus that removes the natural biological inhibitors on our cells, on our mitochondria, apes the accelerated neural pathway formation treatments but since it removes all the safeguards that-”

“Julian.”

“Hmm?” Julian was still making a new study of the dataport turning it over. “Now see, here’s where-”

“Julian?”

“That is my name, Chief,” Julian looked at him finally with a huff. “Are you feeling alright? You look like you’ve just-”

“Don’t move!” Miles stood up abuptly. “Stay right there. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t bother shoving the chair in as he whirled, practically running out of the replimat.

   Jadzia looked after him with surprise but recovered quickly.

“Well, I don’t know what’s gotten into him all of a sudden but I’m confused. Is it Julian, or Jules?”Julian stopped, eyes focused on the doorway of the replimat, a shadow passing over his face as she spoke the second name. He looked down whispering softly to himself with an almost incredulous laugh.

“So that’s what the bastard did,” he breathed out slowly, that smile remaining on his face. “Oh yes... yes it is Jules, luv, terribly sorry, the Chief and I were just playing a little game...” He licked his lips another soft titter. “Yes just another move in our little game.” He took another piece of scone getting one last taste before looking at her positively wickedly. “And speaking of games, you and the Chief have already helped me far more than you could ever imagine. But now... what say you and I play a little game of hide and seek now and I’ll tell you all about it. I promise you, it’ll be absolutely thrilling.”

   She hesitated just a moment as she looked back to the door but something in Julian’s expression made her dismiss it.

“Alright. Count me in.”

   He looks out, a long moment at a Bajoran passing by the infirmary on the Promenade. He, Jules. It’s been nearly two weeks now and it’s just been him. Only Jules.

“Do you trust me, Liz?” He processes the intervals between each successive passerby and with a slow breath shuts his eyes accesses the file of visitors to the station along with the residents using the codes Eddington had given him. He perused it once after first implanting the dataport but checks it again to be sure. He calculates their schedules and determines at last that barring any emergencies they have time. He blinks a few times feeling the rush of information passing through his synapses at once before he removes the small module from the computer. He wonders if this is what it feels like to be a Bynar. He thinks he feels a faint humming passing through his brain like wires constantly thrumming with information. The surge passes down to his toes and he feels nearly giddy with excitement as he looks at Dr. Lense staring back at him almost wondrously. She looks at the screen in front of thee two of them quickly almost embarrassed to be caught staring.

   “Really, Jules, you let me implant a device that by all accounts should have fried your cerebral cortex a thousand times over and you’re worried about me trusting you?” She shakes her head giving him a playful smirk. “Maybe the operation cracked a few things loose after all.” Yes, the operation to finally implant the device that he and Jadzia had poured over practically non stop that entire time until it was finished and the piece that now decorates her mantle is nothing but a blank he reserved and the true masterwork sits nestles behind his ear.

“Oh nothing that wasn’t a turn of the screw wobbly as it is.” He points to the sequence on the display straightening proudly. “But there you have it, darling. There is the recreated bio machine pretty as a picture just waiting to dance with all your lovely little cells. I was afraid that I’d need to make too liberal use of the replicator but it seems my own cells’ productive capabilities have been far greater than I imagined. The starter amount is less thanks the blood I had to divert for the Phoenix catalyst- for Saint Julian- but then again without Phoenix none of this would’ve been possible.” He looks at her taking both her hands in earnest. “You know I couldn’t have done it without you, Liz. I wanted you to be the first to join me. As soon as I saw you again I wanted it to be you but… but Leeta was in such desperate need… I hate it you know... sometimes...”

   Jules trails off with an overly dramatic sigh, head bowed.

“I didn’t ask for it, I mean. Everything that’s happened to me. The attack, these visions...” He swallows a small feeling of giddiness no longer feeling that guilty tug, no longer feeling bound, constrained by any part of his other self. Oh you thought you were clever, didn’t you, Garak? Whatever you did to me that night… whatever you did to me after you fucked me… I still can’t remember all the details but I know what you did now. You broke us apart. You set him free as your pithy Order tricks could manage since you’re not good enough to stuff me back into the darkness. But I know the trigger now. I know the name and he may be back, stronger than before when they call him forth but it’s like bloody Rumpelstiltskin, darling as long as no one speaks it... Jules looks at her to be sure he can gauge her subtle eye motions. “I realize now though... I’ve accepted that it can only be me. No matter what happens,” he whispers and carefully holds the exact same physiological parameters, the same cadence for the lie. “In a perfect world it would only be you and me but...” He lets it hang feeling her squeeze his hands in reassurance.

“I know, Jules.”

“I feel like I’ve robbed you of something, you know.” he insists playing the part perfectly.” Of your life in Starfleet, of your career, of a real family... you know I don’t begrudge you another if that’s what you need.”

   She lets go of his hands with a fervent shake of her head.

“Robbed me? Are you kidding me, Jules I didn’t realize until I met you just how badly I was dying there. I thought that the Lexington would be everything I dreamed but I was an idiot. But I didn’t even know what to do, what I could do. But seeing you here like this, seeing your work, seeing where all the life in the universe is coming together. Just seeing your transformation, seeing these biomachines that were a prison to the Ennis and the Nol Ennis become our salvation with the modifications you’ve made. I almost can’t even believe it. We’re going to change history, Jules, we’re going to change everything. First, second, who cares about all that when we’re doing this and doing it now. You’re the origin Jules, of course it has to come from you anyone with any sense could see that. It’s your DNA, your genome that all this comes from whether it comes from my body or not it’s still going to be life from you, from me born into the world.” She sighs and looks at him as if it were he that needed convincing. He stands almost stunned by how perfectly it’s all falling together and that only makes her the more insistent. “I was married once before, Jules. I can’t say that I miss it.”

   “You, are a true humanitarian.” He gives her his most winning smile, proud and benevolent, more proud of himself, but just so pleased that she came to him so willingly. Jules looks out again and catches sight of two inebriated Klingons out of the corner of his eye. Predictable in their own right, barbaric rot that they are. But that’s the last of them. And that damn suspicious Worf is meeting with Huraga see he’s out of the picture as well. He watches discreetly as they stumble off and pulls her back to the med bay and the bed. He lacks the patience to wait any longer. “Do you want to lay down for this? The sensation is intense and while we are in the infirmary it might be best to minimize the damage.” He leans in with a brush of his lips to her cheek, tasting her skin, his tongue giving just that faint lap to her smooth skin. “You are so terribly precious to me,” he whispers feeling her shiver. It’s isn’t quite right. It isn’t him, after all and Jules doesn’t quite understand why that draw to Garak remains so painfully hatefully strong when everything else has snapped back exactly the way it was. He didn’t realize it until just this moment. “I couldn’t bear to cause you any pain you know. No matter what the reason.”

   “Are you sure this is for the procedure, doctor?” she teases archly. He squeezes her shoulder in response trying painfully to keep his reaction, his irritation at being addressed in that manner show through. It’s too close. So help me if you dare to call him back... He tamps that thought down quickly. Relax, Jules. She knows better. And you know a simple “doctor” won’t do it now.

“I can’t say that I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman once we’re finished.” He watches her eagerly letting those errant thoughts ebb away like the tide. “By my estimation at this hour we should have plenty of time. I’ve accounted for every imaginable scenario and everyone knows that you and I are not to be disturbed in case of emergency. Our research and all...” His eyes sweep up and down as she lets the medical uniform drop from her shoulders, bending over, stepping out of it making a thorough study of her body.

   Jules admires the cleavage pushing up in that white lacy demi bra seeing the peaks of pink nipples peeking over the edges cups, freed finally when she stands and undoes the clasps. He was already half hard, the excitement of the moment, the blood pumping through his body alive, vibrant only pulsing harder as he watches her slide the panties off. Her full hips sway with absent seduction sway left right, Julian watching, remembering the feel of that soft skin beneath his fingers, remembering her taste, the smell of her sweat his face buried between those pale strong thighs as she screamed his name, called him God, and begged him to fuck her. Dr. Lense looks at him with a demure drop of her eyes and sits on the table and he sees the top of her head dip once more, remembering holding soft curls, thrusting into her mouth as she knelt before him the night she arrived on the station. Jules bites the tip of his finger shifting from one foot to the other. And you looked so beautiful like that, darling. Soon, Jules they’ll all be on their knees. They’ll all be supplicant before you and you’ll be back in the world just like you never left it. God it’s so close. I can’t stand the thought of another delay with this stupid Klingon Cardassion shite but I can live with it as long as everything else keeps falling into place.

   He watches her lay back on the bed looking at him almost shyly and he bites that finger harder half whistling around it with excitement, his arms crossing tightly. Yes, that’s it, on the bed, lay yourself out for me like an offering. That’s what you are, offering everything to me with just the right words, the key unlocking the gates to every secret space of your soul and soon your body will hold nothing back from me. Oh but not just you. You, Leeta, Elim. Oh especially Elim Garak, especially you my beautiful black knight, my perfect Obsidian pawn, you especially will be the ultimate conquest. Do you like the prison, darling? Do you like being locked up like an animal? I spent the last thirteen years locked away watching, waiting for any chance to fulfill my destiny and it won’t be complete until I have you as well. No… had… you had him, didn’t you Jules? You and he that night… the night Odo took him away. It went all according to plan and whatever he did.. whatever he did in that blank span of hours you…

   Jules shakes that thought off redirecting his attention back to the conquest in front of him realizing she’s speaking.

“I don’t know how much of that was me but…” She stops when Jules puts a finger to her lips.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Liz. Without your notes, without your research, without that brilliant mind of yours.” He steps back with another indulgent sweeping gaze over those heavy breasts goosepimpled with cold. Human, you’re so human, aren’t you? Jules’ fingers lightly play over each other, tracing the line of chains beneath the uniform. “You’ve no idea how happy I was to see you step off through the doors.” He takes a moment to clean his hands and retrieve a scalpel, watching the light reflecting beautifully off the metal. He studies her once more, watching her legs squirm slightly together under his scrutiny. He sees her hands clenching at her sides, fingers digging expectantly to the bed.

“You told me to come…” she says breathlessly. “So I came.”

   “Your devotion is like a drug,” Jules breathes with exhilaration as he holds up the scalpel. “Now then.” He presses the flat end to her erect nipple- the left-, teasing, making her halt holding her breath to be quiet. “Where shall I mark you to receive my gift?” The blade moves slowly, cold as it trails down her ribcage and across the pale flat of her stomach. “Where shall I give it to you, darling?” Jules doesn’t know how much more he can stand to wait as he circles her slowly, standing to her right pressing against the hard surface of the bed. He swallows a low groan, the swell of his hard cock rubbing the metal as he turns his head and drinks in every bit of rapture, of that religious ecstasy. Religion, science, whatever the cause, whatever the lie that fervor, that rapture, those eyes look at me all the same. And it’s only going to get better from here, I promise you that. Once the bio machines link with me, with the dataport, you will know joy greater than anything you’ve ever known before. I can give it all to you; pain, pleasure, ecstasy blown open in that beautiful brain of yours. It should have been you first, Elim, it’s a pity you had to cross me but you’ll know soon enough what it’s like to be mine.

   “Tell me, Elizabeth,” he urges softly. He lets the blade bite into her thigh just enough to prick the skin, just enough to make her jump, make it bite deeper and he pulls it back before he loses control of himself. Jules’ left hand grips the table hard while he fights the urge to part her legs further and lick the wound, lick every wet trickle of... He catches himself with an exaggerated shudder. “Oh, I’m so terribly sorry, darling if I-”

“Here.” Dr. Lense raises her right hand two fingers over her heart. She interrupts him with a trembling urgency that makes him grip on the table tighten even more. “Unless it will... be too deep here.” That looks in her eyes pleads with him and he suddenly envisions himself the dark prince granting immortality to those who pay him obeisance. Drink from me and live forever, my Mina. Jules smiles, close mouthed running his tongue excitedly over the back of his teeth lest she see just how truly lustful he is. She is after all conscious and unlike Garak he knows he needs a much lighter touch to guide her along. No… no you’re certainly nothing like him. And he thinks of him in that moment, remembering, savoring with such a vivid immediacy he feels like a Cardassian himself.

   “Do you like it when I stick it in you?” He teased the words to the shell of Garak’s ear unable to stop himself from letting his lips brush the ridges down the side of his neck.

“Yes…” Julian- for he was certainly Julian then- watched the flicker of pupils and heard the intake of breath that the body couldn’t stop when he pressed the blade softly, gently along that sensitive juncture, letting the flat tease down to his shoulder. Julian’s lips moved slowly, kiss, bite, seeing the living mannequin tense as Julian’s entire body pressed naked to Garak’s back.

“That’s a good boy,” Julian half purred the words but his voice almost shook with excitement. “I’m going to stick it in you again,” he promised feeling the raise of ridges along Garak’s spine rubbing between his pectorals, rubbing his chest, that aching tickle where the swell of Garak’s ass terribly tempted his cock, where it would be so easy to…

“It’s going to hurt you know,” Julian wrapped his free arm around Garak’s chest, long fingers fanning out possessively. “Oh it’s going to hurt so beautifully when I mark you here.” He passed the blade to that hand feeling the sticky wet between them as his chest, as his stomach smeared the blood from carved cursive “Jules” in his best penmanship with every shift. “My middle name is longer than my first you know but…” He shifted on his knees unable to help fingers that smoothed Garak’s hair back, sweat sticky strands making the careful coif starting to unwind. “And then your back. Mustn’t forget the back as my dear old mother used to say. But it won’t be any more than you can stand…”

   “Will it be too deep here?” Her words interrupt that beautiful memory and he reluctantly pulls himself back. There will be many more moments like that to come, he considers.

“Only as deep as you can stand it.” The words echo in that lingering dark memory licking at his conscious. Jules lets the warm handle of the scalpel twist in his grip almost taking on a life of its own as he lets it settle down between her breasts coming back to focus his attention on her and her alone. Julian eases his grip on the table, calling calm to his body so that his hand is steady. There’s a brief hungry flicker of his eyes back to that thin red line of blood welling on the inside of her thigh that she doesn’t notice.

   “Are they watching us?” she asks looking almost modest for the imaginary audience, her right knee turning inward just a small amount unconsciously obstructing his view.

“Does that bother you?” He shifts the point of the blade deliberately, brushing the skin like a metal butterfly kiss with a playful smirk on his face. Slowly, carefully he allows that point to sink one, two millimeters deep with an excruciating delicacy epidermis, dermis pierced as easily as sinking into a warm bath. He sees the furrow of her brow and the color that paints her cheeks with a flush. Jules watches dainty hands fall back down to her sides. But he sees the right pause, giving a slight hesitation over her stomach, as if it might slip down between her legs. Oh you like that don’t you, you naughty little girl? I knew I chose you well, Liz. I knew that I read you perfectly from the start.

   He draws the line faintly with expert precision letting his mind become a clinical blank long enough to make the straight razor’s edge split the skin until he reaches the cross perpendicular to the pale round of the bottom of those pert trembling breasts. Jules licks his lips as he watches the blood start to flow off both left and right in small thin streams. Oh yes yes yes that’s such a beautiful sight. He feels a faint disappointment that she lacks the perfect ridges of Garak’s strong body to channel blood like the topography of an exotic alien landscape. He can pull up perfectly with his eidetic memory the streams, the slow trickles of Garak’s blood running down those ridges framing his chest, spilling down a perfect cascade… No, not now, Jules, later. Jules lifts the blade watching it carefully, and another blessedly near orgasmic slip he lets his tongue taste, dash itself against the rocks and come away with its own wound painting the blade back darker than it was before. He shivers, shifts from one leg to another and grinds his cock to the table hard, throbbing until it hurts.

   Jules can feel his eyes wanting to shut, wanting to fall closed, fall back and let him revel in it but he knows as he lifts his left hand that it will only be better from here.

“Are you ready, love? My pretty Lizzie?” he whispers feeling the hot salty blood well in his mouth just as he feels the tingle of the machines working hard to pull the skin back together and close the wound. Five minutes until it’s repaired. He holds his arm out and presses the scalpel to his palm seeing her eyes track the blade. She nods, her lips parting and he knows all too well the heat, the spread of fire blossoming out with the sting. He feels giddy, rising up on the balls of his feet with anticipation. Say it. God say it say it. He waits, almost holding his breath, almost dropping the scalpel as her hands press down to the table, fingers splayed. Her legs rub slightly, sensually sliding against each other that soft tilt of her hips teasing him, he swears she must be doing it on purpose knowing just by looking at him how aroused he is.

   “Please… Please God yes…” she whispers looking herself as if the anticipation is too much. He swears he nearly comes at the words, whether God is intended as an address or some common plea he doesn’t care. She says it to him. Please. God. My God. Yes, that’s right. I am your god. God, Lord, Master, everything. Jules smiles down at her as he draws the scalpel perhaps deeper than he should across his palm, dark super iron rich blood coming forth. It’s thick. It’s almost like honey as it pools and pours down his heart pumping extra hard to move it out of him and he lets the drops splatter heavy over her belly as if it were his seed painting her skin. He hears the hitch of her voice. He watches her bite her lip, arms shaking as if she were trying to push the very station down beneath her palms. He leans in and puts his wound to hers, letting their blood mingle, letting the bio machines merge between the two of them, closing his eyes feeling the clusters, directing them at will en masse.

   Jules feels almost dizzy, the explosion bursting out of him like a million points of light and he feels as if he’s the universe itself, as if he’s a star erupting white hot into life hot plasma that cannot be contained entirely. His head swims as every command function hits him at once and he knows that no normal brain, no mind, no body but his could processes it all at once without going insane. Only you Jules. Not the rest of these mortals, not even the other guinea pig failures rotting away in the Institute. You perfected it. And here it is brilliant and beautiful and every bit yours to command. It tingles. It almost burns but there is a line that blurs between pleasure and pain as he allocates a neat divide, the cells that will invade, adapt, serve him moving faster than the blood that pumps through his body in such volume that he swears it seems to shimmer through the thick dark liquid that pools sticky and hot between them.        Jules breathes heavily, the air feeling heavy and humid around them as he watches the blood push back into her body from the wound, some still trickling out but the rest spreading, obeying their program to invade and multiply. He moves his hand knowing that the wound will heal before bleeding out but also knowing that it won’t be for awhile now, that dark trail spreading to her right breast, the print of his hand like finger paints. It almost makes him laugh to see the childish mark but his attention is drawn to her face as her eyes flutter half shut when it hits. Dr. Lense doesn’t scream but her mouth falls open slack as if she might. He doesn’t take that risk instead taking one last look outside before hurriedly closing the door. He doesn’t care. He’ll hear them coming. And I don’t want to miss a moment of this. Jules sees her back arch, sees the bottoms of her feet plant to the table her knees drawing up as the machines move and as he allows the synchronization to detect their motion he can feel the heat of her body, can feel her heartbeat double back in his head, the connection surging like an infinite feedback loop.

   “Oh...” He doesn’t even know if the sound comes from her or him and it’s a far more intimate connection than he dared allow with Leeta when he gave her the experimental prototype. He resolves in the back of his mind to remedy that immediately. He can separate it if he tries but for now he doesn’t care to. Jules unzips the uniform as quickly as he can manage as she reaches up for him. He kisses her palm quickly, sloppily, feeling her nails dig into his cheek.

“J-Ju...” She pants, she squirms. He wriggles out of the clothing as best as he can manage while circling to the foot of the table. Her hands move to her breasts and squeeze pale bloodied flesh hard. Her knees come together rubbing, her thighs pressing together and Jules has never been more grateful that he didn’t wear any undergarments in preparation for tonight. He knew he was going to fuck her. But he never imagined it would be with this much desperation as he furiously kicks off shoes, leaving the uniform wrapped around an ankle.

Jules can feel the connection surging between them and he doesn’t even think about clamping it off now, blind to the outside world as he furthers the revolution.

   Jules clasps Eddington’s hand firmly as soon as he enters the security office. His head remains still, eyes scanning the small room for Odo. There’s a quick tap of thumb to the back of his hand and he smiles faintly releasing the small package into Eddington’s grip. Good, then he’s gone and taken the bait. I was almost afraid he’d starve himself to death but no, he doesn’t suspect then that my reach even extends here to the very door of Odo’s stronghold.

“I’m so sorry to trouble you at such a busy time, Mr. Eddington, I was here to see Mr. Garak. I don’t… I don’t know whatever his story is but I’d like to think that we’re still friends perhaps.” He ducks his head, knowing the camera is catching everything as Eddington answers perfectly, carefully clasping the small packaged liquid.

‘Well now that’s awfully magnanimous of you, Doctor,” Jules breathes deeply, bracing himself, holding fast at the address. “But I don’t know if that would be advisable given the charges against him.” Jules exhales slowly, face a picture of concern as he turns slowly away from the lens barely moving his lips as he speaks soft as breath.

   “There are eight doses there, Mr. Eddington. Seven for you, one more for Garak. Has he received the first dosage?” He raises his head speaking louder, arms crossing tightly, fingers drumming over his bicep. “I need to see him, Mr. Eddington. I know you have concerns. Leeta has… she hasn’t understood the hold he has over me and God I don’t know how she’s ever forgiven me, how she could be so kind and understanding but… Just once, please.” Eddington gives a faint nod, and Jules can feel the almost bursting exultation behind his closely pursed pleading lips. Another piece into place, see you worry over nothing. Never doubt, never question yourself, Jules. A few more days, A few more days and everything falls into place.

“I understand your position, Doctor but-“

“Please.” He asks again, finger combing his hair as if he might sink to his knees at any moment and tear it out.

   His fingers twist, remembering, reminding himself that right now he needs to focus and center. Breathe. You know what he’s done now and you know that name is the bloody key just as well as you know there’s fuck all you can do about it except recognize and try to correct whatever damage he does as best as you can. This isn’t like before, you can’t snap out of it on your own with time, with sleep, with anything. But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that you can’t access half your own memories now, that you can’t put yourself under right, can’t reach the chains, the main control center you can remember what’s important and most important is that even if Julian takes your place you’re still of one mind where it counts. I bet you didn’t see that coming, did you, Elim? I bet you never imagined your pure pristine little doctor could be capable of such grand aspirations but whether his motives match mine it doesn’t much matter. The game’s still on my darling, just like you wanted and just like I want you’re going to lose. You’re going to lose and you’re going to be mine and I’ll make you see that soon enough.

   Jules can see the warning flash across Eddingon’s face and he realizes that his expression must be starting to mirror his thoughts. Right. The game. Keep playing the game, Jules, you can’t afford to be sloppy now. He straightens slowly with a cough, knowing that Odo might be watching this later.

“I’m sorry,” Jules interjects hurriedly, “You can see what a right mess I am.” Good, good. It’s not as easy without feeling the insipid doctor licking at your thoughts but you’re just as good an actor as you ever were. He’s going to fold. He’s going to fold and you’re going to win and you won’t even have to get nasty to do it. Julian makes sure to affect that nervous anxious expression. “It would help… It would help my recovery to just face it, face him.” Face him and make him kneel at my feet. Yes, I should like to see you kneel before me, my deceitful Elim before you surrender to me.

   His fingers unconsciously pass over his neck, over the wound covered by the collar of the Starfleet uniform and he lets the pads draws every subtle tactile sense from the delicate lace beneath the uniform feel anxiety begin to meld with anticipation as Eddington takes a hesitant step back.

“This is crazy. I shouldn’t be doing this but you’re the professional.” He drops his voice and whispers “Jules”, stepping aside letting Jules straighten brilliantly like the nightingale released to sing for the Emperor. The Emperor with no clothes that is. Naked, bared before the world in shame and disgrace with no idea how low he’s fallen. Oh but you’re about to find out if you haven’t realized it already. He swallows a soft laugh instead letting one last petal of a whisper escape his lips. “Take one every few days. It will linger but 2 weeks make sure they find you out before then.” Eddington leads him back one quick finger held for “yes” per their arrangement everything played perfectly for the footage. Two weeks it will linger, Mr. Eddington. Two weeks and anything you do will be completely above suspicion. No matter what you do for me, no matter what you may do to aid the Maquis I’ve given you all the deniability you need and in return-

   “Ten Minutes. Any more and I might start to worry. Odo gave me the details. For what it’s worth… a lot of us would do the same in your situation. You’ve been through a lot,” He puts a brief hand to the small of Jules’ back. Ten minutes, it is. Ten minutes of a carefully constructed scenario that cost a precious amount of latinum and one of Quark’s newfound associates from the Syndicate but he has it. Eddington crosses in front of him just as Garak comes into view and Jules lets that magnificent beatific smile split his face.

“I assure you, Mr. Eddington I shall make the most of what you’ve given me.” He hears the chuckle, sees the shrug of shoulders as Eddington retreats back to the front. “Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil, Jules. Take care of yourself.” Jules steps forward towards the cell, seeing the rest surrounding it empty as they ought to be. He doesn’t know how Eddington pulled it off. He knows better than to ask. He can barely conceal the bounce in his step as he walks towards Garak seated on the small cot.

   Garak’s focus is on the datapad in his hand, languidly leaning back on the cot when he hears Julian’s footsteps approaching. No… He listens again, his eyes locked to the same series of words as he subtly diverts his focus. No that is not Julian proper, it’s most certainly Jules. Garak easily identifies the arrogant swagger, can picture the turn of heel as he stops and decides to let his eyes remain on the screen in front of him even as he sits up just a bit. He can picture without so much as shifting his eyes sideways the frown at the lack of acknowledgment. He makes a mental wager with himself to see how long before that condescension turns to consternation. Until those hazel eyes flash with rage. He decides five minutes is perfectly generous. Ah, the ways those imprisoned devise such petty amusements for themselves to pass the time. I’m definitely impressed my dear Julian. I never would have imagined either you or he to have the control to stay away for so long.

   “Am I so forgettable my darling Elim that you can sit there in the presence of God without so much as raising your eyes to the heavens?” That voice is poison laced kanar and Garak imagines that Jules must have made a rather large move in the last two weeks to sound so prematurely victorious. He’s noticed that Jules doesn’t bluff well when he’s losing, after all. He wears defeat with the venomous bluster of a wounded snake but far from being concerned by the triumphant strutting, Garak is intrigued. And here you were concerned with my well being, with the state of my mental health in choosing to remain in this prison, Odo. I’m afraid our earlier encounter has given you a poor appreciation for my skills as an interrogator for in fact I do my best work when I have time to let the artistry take shape on its own. And here it is to give me my reward in all its foolish youthful hubris.

   “You’ll forgive me, my dear,” Garak says choosing not to set the datapad aside, “but I’ve been taking this time to catch up on a little light reading. You seem bound and determined for me to take something away from your classical Earth literature and I feel I would be remiss to disappoint your expectations.” Garak scrolls down a few lines letting his attention flicker between the man to his right and the words of the human author Kipling. “There is no sin so great as ignorance, remember this.” Indeed, truer words were never spoken. “I believe I’ve found it, you know,” he says, watching the wall all of a sudden as if it were the two of them seated in the replimat over tea and sweets. Jules doesn’t disappoint him with his reaction.

“And what is it you’ve found, darling, beyond the confines of these four walls and this terribly cold station?” he purrs taking a few stalking steps. Garak scrolls down on the page, disaffected as if they were merely discussing the weather.

   “I’ve found that if I am Caesar,” he begins thoughtfully, “and I presume that is what you’ve been hinting that all these months. But if I am that fallen Emperor, then it is you, my dear who should naturally be Brutus.” His thumb rubs the edge of the hard encasement in his hand idly. “But I find that to be far too neat, far too convenient and if I may be frank…” He sees Tain’s image suddenly superimposed over the surface screen as if summoned by the three witches of Macbeth. Garak smiles at that imagined image with a soft chuckle. “Surely you must be aware that there are far more Cardassians better suited to that role in this tragedy.”

He closes his eyes breathing out slowly, that mocking face rippling out with that soft breeze. It’s gone when he opens them again, the screen nothing but words once more. “No, no you are Coriolanus.” He tips his head back to stare at the ceiling that laugh a little louder but no less darkly humored. “Cauis Marcius Coriolanus,” Garak declares, the faint sibilant accent emphasizing every “s” with a damning serpentine hiss.

   He hears Jules whirl in anger, a half turn, a stop, a valiant attempt to reign in that beautiful brutal temper. Hmm, not even two minutes then. A pity you couldn’t have held out longer. Odo told him that in no uncertain terms would he allow the security of the station to be compromised and that while he might indulge their foolish lover’s game to a point lacking the evidence Garak holds to truly foil the good doctor’s plan that Garak ought to be well aware he’s walking a very thin line before Odo arrests them both. Lovers is it? Garak discreetly turns the text off, allowing to mirrored screen to reflect in its own darkly beautiful way everything outside the cell. Do you really have so little understanding of solids and their relationships, Contable that you believe our relationship to be such? Garak catches Jules’ eyes flash even with the imperfect mirror and he sees a hand reach up to grasp for chains no longer there instead closing to a fist held tight to his chest.

   “Perhaps you are not familiar with that one?” Garak offers with a teasing lilt to his voice as Julian practically throws that fist down and storms back in front of him. Garak sees him just barely catch himself from slamming his hand to the barrier, fingers unballing slowly, deliberately resting on the wall with painstaking care instead.

“Oh I…” Jules hesitates just a bit and Garak imagines that he must be pressing hard, letting every bit of tension ebb out his fingertips to flow away like a river. Garak admires as the long fingers flex, steal over the smooth surface sensually. No, I think it might be me after all who’s lacking in understanding. Really, Elim, has your world view become so narrow on this station that you cannot conceive a romantic entanglement lacking that last little textbook criteria of coitus? Garak looks at that image, of that foolish manchild strutting about the station so arrogantly, so ridiculously so... so Gul’s damned desirably. Ravishing when angry... Oh Elim, you wonderful fool. And here you deride Dukat for bleating such similar nonsense at some those Bajoran women coerced into his bed. But even with that chastisement, Garak cannot help but call back that hand, that night as it held his face, each pad a soft lizard kiss that even now makes his heart race faster.

   “Aren’t you a sight?” Julian whispered as he turned Garak’s jaw, his lips bloodied red as if they might remain stained forever with that transgression. “I can’t imagine what you were thinking… letting me get carried away like that.” He pulled his fingers back the tips stained prettily crimson, the hypnotic five points Garak’s own Meditations on a Crimson Star as Julian slowly licked each one carefully. “You always let me get carried away,” he chastised to an unseen specter as if there were two twin souls standing side by side. Perhaps there were. Garak could only watch him, his legs pricking pins and needles, his arms locked behind his back rubbing infinitesimally to each score of the blade on his raw skin. “But am I really?” Julian threw his arms around him suddenly, fiercely, the pressure of the embrace, the salty sweat seeping to the bleeding wounds a thousand scorpion stings that made his entire body erupt in a blink fast burst of a star newly born into the universe. Pain and pleasure, indivisible. Julian clamored, pulled Garak’s head down and softly mouthed the sensitive chufa as he spoke. Yes, definitely pleasure. “No, I’m not. I always know exactly what I’m doing.”

   “Coriolanus,” Jules says repeating the name either on the verge of outburst of anger or entertainment as Garak’s thoughts return to present. Garak bets on the latter and hides a smile when Jules leans against the wall, the side of his head pillowed to it with deliberate affectation as he stares Garak down with what he imagines must be a look of sultry amusement. He adds that to his growing catalogue of “Jules Expressions” filing it adjacent to Julian’s self conscious duck of his head. “Yes, Coriolanus, the fearless, fallible god among men.” He laughs a quite obvious stage laugh and Garak decides it could use a little work. “Tell me, darling, what Gods then do you worship if not me?” His fingers play with his collar, insinuating, the zipper pushed down with every play of his hand until the healing pink scars are visible. Garak is still not looking directly at him, the longer this plays out he more convinced that whatever Jules is going to reveal will be something delightfully wicked.

“I’m sure you would find them terribly boring, my dear and I have no particular use for mythical deities. I find their caprice tiresome if my own fortune is anything on which to base a completely baseless faith.” He pokes him a little more enjoying the overly dramatic performance nonetheless, throwing in just a small bit of what he deems “Shakespearian panache” himself.

   “It is the faithless who often decry us for their suffering.” Jules keeps smiling as he pushes off the wall one grand step arms held high as if he’s spent hours practicing that very motion in front of the mirror. “Don’t worry, darling, it is said that when he comes all suffering shall end and I am nothing if not a benevolent God.” Jules chuckles darkly, softly. “I reward even the faithless, Elim, as long as they’re worthy. And you,” he lowers his hands giving a small turn of hip, tilting his head to look magnificently down. Garak wonders with a strange juvenile turn to his thought if he might angle the screen to look up his nose. “You were a most worthy opponent, darling.”

“Is that what I am? Worthy?” Garak asks mildly. He lets the screen drop with a soft sigh. All these years the words a man most longs to hear. You are worthy. You have been found… acceptable. Ah, but only by you, my dear, a mentally ill Starfleet physician who fancies himself a God. “Yes, that is the caprice of the gods of which I speak, my dear.”

   He doesn’t expect Jules to understand. Julian perhaps but Julian is not here. It is not Julian who crosses his arms petulantly at the disappointing response. But is it really so disappointing? I’m sure you wouldn’t even be here if you didn’t find that defiance an unbearable addiction.

“Do you know, darling,” Jules takes a different tact, “that it is a belief of some human faiths that to look upon the face of God is a sin, that to depict his very image is the utmost blasphemy? That, from my mother’s religion.”

“And what of your father?” Garak asks him conversationally recalling that he’s never heard father nor mother mentioned in all the years of their acquaintance. But where you have a multitude of secrets guarded close to your heart Jules, Julian has but this one and it’s curious that he’s never made mention of their absence.

“My glory seeking father worships money as if he were a Ferengi,” Jules murmurs darkly. Garak notes how quickly his mood changes and he’s pleased that he’s so neatly struck a nerve.

“I’m sure they have a most interesting marriage.” Jules practically stomps his foot as he takes another step face almost to the energy barrier.

   “I didn’t come here to discuss the two people I hate the most in this universe, Garak,” he practically spits, “I came here to discuss us.” Us? Us as if that concept, the complexity of everything that entails could be so neatly wrapped into that succinct little word. Do you even understand that “us” of which you speak? Or again, maybe it’s me who’s not understanding.

“There is no “us”, my dear. You came here to gloat your assumed victory like an obnoxious child and I’m afraid I’ve lost interest in humoring you.”

“You say there is no “us” as if you’ve forgotten the night that led you to be imprisoned here.” Ah yes, that night. Julian wanting, seductive, everything that the two of you devised in that mind to seduce me a kaleidoscope of tacts from innocence to obscenity a million costume changes before my eyes in that short span of time. And here you are believing exactly as I intended that one of your many changes of color indeed found its mark. Garak finds strangely, that he isn’t sure whether he’s truly happy or not that his subtle manipulation of memories worked so effectively.

   “I assure you, my dear, I remember all too well you drinking half my kanar before throwing yourself at me half naked and passing out on the floor.” He tells the truth baldly, knowing that for Jules such a truth could be nothing but a lie. And exactly there is no shift of his countenance, no surprise at such a revelation, his words dismissed entirely. He would’ve expected nothing less. Liar. That’s what you want to call me, isn’t it, Jules? Because how else would you have made such a skillful exit from my quarters with Odo pounding on the door if I wasn’t completely in your thrall? If you weren’t in complete control. If I hadn’t drank that kanar myself. Checkmate. That’s what you want to say, isn’t it. It almost tempts him to look and he nearly does, hearing the sudden quiet, hearing those gears turning in Jules’ cunning little brain.

   “Are you afraid, Elim? Is that why you don’t look at me?” That turn in mood again is fast, mercurial, and Garak finds it oddly thrilling as he realizes that this is the first time he’s truly been able to witness Jules on his own unfettered and unrestrained by any hint of Julian. No, no there’s that one vital connection he made sure to leave in tact but he sees that it hardly plays into any of Jules’ demeanor. Garak shrugs his shoulders.

“Perhaps, I’ve seen as much of you as I care to, my dear.” And he sees at once how his dismissive action riles that unbridled emotion. Garak wonders if this is how Vulcans feel when they observe the other “lesser” races.

“I could make you look at me,” Jules promises and Garak doesn’t doubt for a moment Jules’ complete and utter faith in that declaration.

   “Could you really?” This time Garak allows the laugh, letting it spill forth, letting himself remember how Tain would stand in front of him, how he would sit behind that austere desk, that dark amusement, that hateful chortle at Garak’s youthful arrogance, at his rebelliousness, his naiveté. Really it used to anger him so but he sees, just as he sees Jules about to scream down the wormhole itself in rage that he truly appreciates the elder’s amusement at the younger’s folly. “Could you really?” he repeats not needing to look to see Jules is so terribly close to calling those words, to calling that trump card in this most insignificant pointless of power plays. “I am the key.” You want to say it so badly, don’t you? You want me on my knees, you want my obedience, you want that little bit of control so badly. My poor Jules, it’s so terribly terribly obvious. It nearly brings tears to his eyes as Garak laughs, bent over, sides starting to hurt at the thought that Jules would waste such an important play on such trivial nonsense.

   Garak has no idea how long it’s been- if ever in fact- that’s he’s laughed so hard like this and perhaps one day he might even let Julian proper in on the secret but oh most certainly not today. It’s possible of course that his extended solitude has finally driven him mad but if this is madness then it’s a welcome change from the slow death from ennui. Yes, this is excitement for however long it lasts, an excitement without all the emotional baggage of his past and he’s almost proud to see that Jules even with what he’s found to be the emotional sophistication of a spoiled adolescent has nonetheless managed in this one moment to reign in that unwise flash of temper. It seems there may be hope for you yet.

   “Oh how should I answer that question? Maybe... Maybe I’ll pretend, Elim that I’m you. That I’m a filthy lying amoral bastard for this moment in time and I’ll answer a question with an elusive riddle. A pointless fable that allows me the pleasure of hearing myself speak so that I can… mentally masturbate to the sound of my own voice because if there is one thing I do better than measuring of alien inseams while finding my own pitifully lacking it is filling every blessed moment of silence with self aggrandizing noise meant to validate my own importance.” My, insulting manhood, check, my position on the station, check, a little ribald swearing, check. Yes, you’ve certainly hit all points though still a bit overdone, I’d say. Still, Garak feels he would be remiss to not respond with at least equal measure.

“And I in turn,” he begins grandly, “shall endeavor to listen with rapt and vapid attention to your every word whether it be an obvious put on or even a shrouded insult because I certainly cannot perceive the subtle differences in tone, context or anything else that requires a hint of critical analysis. And I shall remain drawn breathlessly to your every movement whilst I obscenely fetishize each bit of your exotic alien aspect for my own self centered self gratification.”

   There’s a pregnant pause to that quick retort that fills Garak with a sense of satisfaction that nearly makes him sit up straight and bask in the brilliance of his own wit. But that would make him a very poor sport indeed and Garak has always maintained an implacable sense of fairness when facing even the most woefully inept of opponents. He remains collected, instead putting the screen back to the text already having made up his mind to call Julian to take the reins once Jules has concluded whatever speech he’s doubtless worked up for the occasion. He’s only mildly disappointed that Jules has decided to choose words over throwing something at the barrier.

   “Once when man in his infancy lacked the knowledge to understand the many natural wonders of the world he would develop all sorts of myths with which to soothe his fears and explain the unexplainable and such we come to the legends of the Gods who ruled the natural world. And of those gods was Hades who reigned in Hell.” He pauses to be sure Garak is giving him proper attention and Garak has the grace to pause in his reading and contemplate the welds of the ceiling. “And did you know that a living man, that a miserable creature who enters that realm must not consume anything when there lest he remain trapped forever in hell?” Jules smirks, doubtless thinking he’s being particularly mysterious and coy and that Garak catches with a slightly discreet glance when Jules has focused his attention on some imagined audience ahead.

   So then it’s in the food isn’t it? Hardly surprising but now I must wonder who in this office you hold in your thrall for there certainly are no lack of possible breaches. Clever boy you really have thought this through, haven’t you? He smiles in spite of himself.

“Am I then to assume that I’ve already doomed my days to while away an eternity in this mythical inferno of yours?”

“Only if you deny me, darling.”

“I’m not certain why you think I’m denying you anything if as you claim that night we came together in a mad torrent of passionate coupling.”

“What you’re denying, Garak-” he practically snarls likely indicating his throat. “Are these pretty little marks decorating my skin or do you deny those as well?” Oh yes, there are those, aren’t there. Pity they’re hardly what you believe them to be but you may get your wish on that soon enough.

“It seems that we’re going round in circles my dear so I’m afraid I’ll just have to ask again. What am I denying you, Julian?”

   Garak turns finally to watch just as Julian does as well. But Julian’s turn is not a turn of his body, but a crawling metamorphosis from he who would be God to the doctor staring back at him. Garak knows that there is no shift of DNA, no true change of the landscape of those features but nonetheless he sees the symmetry itself morph on that face until those eyes appear bigger, pleading, more desperate as they look at him haunted, and he can only imagine the deluge of memories slamming into his conscious awareness all at once.

“What… what do you… deny me, Garak?” he asks as if he’s forgotten how to speak and Garak can see him walk as close to the barrier as he dare before it hurts him. “This.” He indicates the invisible wall with a frown. “You.” He runs fingers through his hair stepping back. “Everything.” He breathes out frustrated, a steady focus coming back to his expression.

   “You’re not going to win. I know you know that. And if you don’t I really should warn you that you’ve no chance at all.” He turns his head, a show of his hand as Garak sees a newly minted dataport skin still faintly pink where the scars heal, wisely opposite the side where the earring is on prominent display. “You know what this is, don’t you? It’s not what you think, it isn’t some net girl net boy nonsense it’s...” He looks uncertain to reveal the secret but shakes his head summoning that determination. “I’m only... I’m only telling you this because I want you to choose... to choose correctly. You see this is the control device for the bio machines from the Ennis who I told you about. The few deactivated ones I was able to collect and secret away. Only the machines aren’t dependent on the moon but on me now. The machines, the people whose bodies are flooded with the machines. Life, death, disability, everything. Not that I would ever...” Julian swallows hard looking almost terrified by the prospect of that power with a hasty shake of his head. “I would never... it’s just... it was necessary is all it was... It was the final step that I needed to give us all that eternity.” Oh you beautiful, precious fool. Why would you ever tell me this you have no idea what I could-

   “So you see, right? I control everything. I’ve almost generated enough of the necessary carrier for everyone I need and I haven’t... I haven’t given it to you yet but you couldn’t stop me if I wanted to. I wouldn’t do that though. Those who drink... are those who already believe. But you know that I’m not always in control, Garak and while I’d never force that on you... I know you must think I’m a fool to be saying all this to you but it’s not just that I want to win... that I want to have you willing, wanting, accepting. I want you to see that I’m not just this useless Federation dullard. I want you to see that I’m…” Worthy of you, echoes in his mind not out of arrogance but out of a sibling sense of longing for that acknowledgment, that desperate need to be taken, accepted, and not found wanting. “I’m better than you ever realized, Garak. Better than I thought I could be and if it took this madness, if it took this game to see it then whatever price must be met will be worth it.”

   He turns away, walking slowly towards the door with his arms crossed almost self consciously and Garak almost has to strain to hear him speaking.

“I’m going to save everyone, you know. Not just the mortal men doomed to die, as Tolkein would say but the universe. It just has to start with a seed in space that can be nurtured and blossom into a force to…” He stops himself and Garak decides here is where Jules should begin with his grand design of galactic supremacy. Except for now there is no Jules, only Julian and he shakes his head with a sigh. “If I have eternity. Whether that eternity passes in the blink of an eye, the blink of two cells dividing that will change the destiny of everything or whether it is a true city of forever then… I need to try. I need that eternity. With or without you.” He turns back, mouth pursed and Garak takes note of the dark circles haunting beneath his eyes and the hair not messily Jules disheveled but Julian breaking apart.

   “What do you have to say, Garak? You know you’re out of time after all. I suppose this is me giving you one last chance to go. I’ve won.” He shrugs his shoulders as if the conclusion was already inevitable. He lacks Jules’ bravado, his arrogance, yet it is that pity that infuriates him. It is that pity Julian displays as he waits only a moment and finds whatever answer he desires out of his reach. It is that pity as he shakes his head and turns away resigned to that predetermined fate that he’s seen as if he really were some grandiose seer that makes Garak rise like one of those mythical historic human figures he’s read and raise his arm. He salutes in that ancient human fashion knowing Julian cannot see and lacks the mettle to turn back around as he speaks softly, dangerously. No, this is far from the end, my dear, you don’t get to bow out of the game that easily. Not after you already swore to play through to the bitter end.

“I say, may you live forever, my dear,” he says holding that arm for just another moment as Julian stops mid stride.

“You know, Garak,” Julian answers an uneasy awkward laugh lacing his voice. “The ancient Greeks considered those words a curse.”

   Garak lowers his hand face painted back with a small smile as he takes his seat again on the spartan cot.

“Really? How Fascinating.”

   And long after Julian has gone and he’s neared the end of Kipling’s whimsical tale, Garak looks up to Odo entering near his cell.

“Ah, Constable, just the man I was looking for. I wonder… could you put me in touch with Major Kira? I believe it is finally my turn in this little… game as you’ve so glibly dubbed it and thus time to play my best piece.”

A quick credit where Julian refers to Coriolanus as the "fearless fallible god among men", that line is taken directly from here www.smilepolitely.com/arts/coriolanus/ . It was just too perfect not to throw in.
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