This story is a work of colorful and slashy fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents have been long-standing slaves of Paramount Pictures. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is probably because the author has written too many of these already. Forgive her. STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE is a Registered Trademark r of Paramount Pictures. Copyright (c) 1996 by Paramount Pictures. All Rights Reserved. No infringement was meant. Well, not consciously anyway. TITLE: FIRE STARTER AUTHOR: BGM RATING: PG-13 (for sexual implicitness between two men) PAIRING: Garak/Bashir --------------------------------------------------------- I'm the trouble starter, I'm the instigator, I'm a fire starter. Prodigy - Fire Starter -------------------------------------------------------- He thought it would have been simple ... he thought it would have led to something less ... savage than what it had turned out to be. But Julian couldn't complain. Couldn't complain even if he wanted too. His mouth was too busy. The dinner had been nice ... one that had been conducted at candlelight with kanar and red wine, expensive poultry and equally exorbitant wear. One DID dress well, after all, when one dated a tailor. His mother's china straight from the few boxes Julian hadn't gotten to unpack, dimmed lights and an array of flowers which pervaded the doctor's quarters with an almost overwhelming scent of spring. The sparkling stars outside and the occasional burst of bluish light sprang from the flaring wormhole. It had been all in all a romantic evening. Or so he had thought. Perhaps it was the conversation that had been the cause ... the words which had began tame and turned flaring as their political and social opinions emerged. Perhaps it was the liquor, embedding itself in their systems and eradicating silly inhibitions. Perhaps it was just plain lust. He snatched Garak's empty plate as he delivered a poignant response to the Cardassian's consideration. He'd grasped it so hard the edge had cut his palm. Garak's eyes had trailed down to the blood trickling down the delicate wrist, and perhaps Julian perceived in that azure mix of lechery and hunger a bit of bloodlust as well. One moment more and the Cardassian's hand was gripping his wrist so hard Julian had dropped the precious plate. It shattered on the floor between them, but it no longer mattered. Pulling the wrist away from them, Garak had risen from his seat and used the momentum to deliver a particularly stinging slap to the young man's face. "Don't you EVER contradict me like that again!" Garak had seethed, and Julian stared wide-eyed at his lover. NOW he understood what O'Brien had tried to explain to him about Gilora. Well ... two played that game, if he wasn't mistaken. Drawing his own momentum from his position, he drove all his bodily weight into the Cardassian's chest, succeeding in knocking Garak a few steps behind before discharging a punch squarely to his face. Surprise, perhaps a little shock, before comprehension dawned across the sea of blue. The men's body drew a canvas of blurred images as Garak advanced quickly on his prey. He hadn't underestimated Julian by no means ... genetically inhanced, that frail-looking young man was stronger than a man of Sisko's built. More importantly, of HIS built. Yet, what Julian lacked was experience, and though he could possess all the strength in the world, he didn't quite have the techniques to use it with ... "Naughty ... naughty," Garak tsked, smiling triumphantly against the young man's ear. He now held his prey against the wall, its arm twisted back and held in an iron-grip. Julian struggled admirably, spitting the most colorful insults to Garak's parentage that he could muster. Laughing, Garak ripped open the doctor's shirt ... the silk ripping with an almost sad little sound. The gesture cost him however ... Julian took his chance and successfully rotated the upper hand. Garak lay on the floor, panting hard as Julian straddled his waist with an effective grip. "Hmm ... am I still being naughty?" he whispered, his fingers dancing over the seams of Garak'' shirt. "Was it my understanding that you intended to PUNISH me? Hmm?" He laughed teasingly, fueling Garak's drive to struggle against this indecency. Julian disallowed him the pleasure however, and bit down on a flaring neck ridge. Garak gave voice to a cry, twisting painfully under the heated body of his lover. "I just bet I'll pay for that one later," Julian murmured, prying his tongue between the rippling scales. "No ... you pay now," Garak growled, and knocked him off him with sheer determination. Julian yelled as he was projected backward, hitting the wall with his back. Towering over him, the Cardassian smirked. "The trouble is ... how?" he pondered, yanking Julian's arm up. The young man was on his feet, staring bluntly in Garak's eyes. Another slap to the Cardassian's face, and Julian smiled. "I'm sure your overactive imagination will find something," he derided. Oh how Julian knew how to play the game ... "Shall you bend over, or shall I do it for you? I won't promise not to break your back though ..." Garak grinned darkly. Growling, Julian tackled the Cardassian, his war cry filling his quarters. ------------------------------------------------------------- The next morning, Julian had breakfast with Dax. The Trill noted just how exhausted the doctor looked and eventually couldn't keep her curiosity tamed. "Wild night?" she grinned. "I wish," was Julian's weary reply. "Oh? What happened? It was my understanding you and Garak had ...dinner last night," she hinted, her grin still gracing her lips. "We did," Julian confessed. "And ..." "And ..." "And ... we just got so caught up in foreplay that ... well ..." the young man blushed. "We eventually fell asleep before we could ... DO anything ..." he intimated. Jadzia leaned back in her chair and didn't stop laughing until her shift began. THE END