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 ® of Paramount Pictures. Copyright (c) 1996 by Paramount Pictures. All Rights Reserved. No infringement was meant. Well, not consciously anyway. TITLE: MY FANTASY, OR YOURS? AUTHOR: BGM RATING: NC-17 (for some sexually-explicit contents) PAIRING: Garak/Bashir --------------------------------------------------------- Bashir. Julian Bashir. Julian Bashir, Secret Agent. It was no small wonder figuring out why Garak had been so incensed at the end. This was his territory; one Bashir had no doubt the Cardassian took pride in. The young doctor sighed loudly as he reflected upon what he was about to do. What was wrong with him? Did he get a perverse pleasure in finally getting the Cardassian as flustered as he could ever hope to get him? He recalled the confrontation in Dr Noah's tunnels, and along with the memory came an inexplicable wave of excitement -- knowing Garak didn't allow himself anger very easily, or very often. The aggressiveness in the tailor's usually subdued tone had made his heart race, and for once Bashir began to consider Garak as something more than a friend with whom to share a weekly lunch with. No, that wasn't true. He'd always been attracted to the air of mystery Garak all too often radiated. And he'd always settled for relieving his frustrations himself, contented with sharing lunch and a laugh and nothing more. Now he _wanted_ more. If only he'd get the Cardassian so fired up again ... he smiled unwittingly as he remembered the way Garak had grasped his arm and swiveled him harshly to face him, ordering him to stop this foolisheness. Those mesmerizing eyes flickering with barely surpressed rage, voice elevated and carrying a much more powerful inflection than Garak's usual whisper. How it had felt good to finally get under his skin -- for once finding something that shook the unflappable tailor. He sighed again. *Gods Jules, snap out of it,* he chided himself. He cleared his throat and found some composure as he tapped a sequence into the holosuite's control panel. When everything was to his satisfaction, he heaved a breath of courage and stepped inside. The door barely had time to close behind him when hands grabbed his arms and violently dragged him through an intricate web of tunnels. When they arrived at Dr Noah's laser array -- just where Julian had set the program to start from -- the young man found that Garak had not yet made his appearance since the support beam destined for him was empty. One of the men -- the original Falcon -- bound his wrists with cuffs to one of the struts, and stepped back to admire his handiwork. Near the large computer console, Noah frowned. "Where is his companion?" --------------------------------------------------------- Garak inhaled profoundly as he stared dubiously at the control panel for the holosuite. Julian had given him much to think about since their last encounter inside one of these things -- thoughts which surprised him. He had a great failing for Human beauty, but none more fiercely troubling than that for Julian's. Such an enticing young man, and so full of passion! Who would have thought the Human would have pulled that trigger? What kind of spirit shaped a young man to push through doubt and hesitation and turn against his friend to save a greater number of people? And there he had been, rambling on about saving himself. He had deserved that shot. But then Julian could hardly blame him for letting natural Cardassian instincts to take over. They were so different, he and Julian ... he wondered lazily if the Human would ever accept to be taken by him. Probably not. But then this was the whole point of today's meeting, was it not? With a cutting grin, he stepped inside the holosuite, his curiosity greater than any repercussion his little incursion would cost him later on. He gasped involuntarily at the sudden attack which came from behind, and struggled instinctively as his wrists were twisted behind his back. The cool metal touch of handcuffs was promptly pressed around them, and Garak was half-led, half-dragged inside the network of tunnels. --------------------------------------------------------- "This is one of 74 lasers that I've deployed around the world," Noah prattled on, as Garak was brought in and fastened to another support beam. "When I throw that switch," he explained, pointing lightly to the computer console. "It'll begin a five minute countdown that even _I_ can't stop. And once the laser fires, the whole cave will be filled with molten lava." Noah -- a Noah who didn't have Sisko's face -- grinned cuttingly as he admired how well everything was falling into place. "Where's Colonel Komonanof?" Julian breathed, used to the script by now. "She's a spirited individual -- young, healthy. We'll need women like her to help propagate a second human race," Noah smiled, and threw the switch. Sound of harnessed energy boomed and settled on a steady hum as Noah and Falcon turned toward the doctor. "Try to stay cool, Mr Bashir," he said, before both left the area. After a moment of awkward silence, a caustic snort rose from Garak's lips. "Well ... I suppose now we wait for Honey Bare?" he said bitterly, shifting his position as he settled as comfortably as he could get in his position. Julian narrowed his eyes, not quite able to cloak the thin smile on his lips. "Falcon was pretty fast when he cuffed you. Maybe if you tried your restraints ..." Garak frowned and looked round as he pulled his wrists against his handcuffs. Surprise! They clicked open at the mere pressure, and the tailor found himself quickly freed. He stood frozen for a moment, staring at the cuffs and wondering why this time they had yielded. Last time he'd tried them ... surely the program had not changed ... who would-- He directed his narrowed eyes at Julian and a smile crept to his lips. Of course ... only Julian would have been able to change it. It was his program after all. But why? Why free him, and why exclude the pleasure of manipulating Honey Bare in freeing _himself_. Well, of course -- he already knew the answer to _that_ one. But how well it was to lose oneself in fantasy. He cleared his throat and walked leisurely to the console. "Dr Noah assured us that the sequence could not be stopped, even by him if I recall correctly," he said smoothly, glancing at Julian who was craning his neck to follow the Cardassian's steps. "That's right," he breathed. The tailor slid the control into deactivation, and the result did not surprise him. The numbers halted their descent, and the hum of power dwindled to silence. Garak glanced at Julian with mock surprise. "Now I wonder why it worked *this* time," he said pleasantly, locking his hands behind his back as he walked back to Julian's position. The doctor's breathing had become noticeably heavier. By the time Garak had planted himself in front of him, his arousal could not be missed by the tailor's sharp eye. Garak plowed on. "And I wonder why Honey Bare is nowhere to be seen. Now I trust the computer isn't malfunctioning again," he suggested silkily. "I hope not," Julian managed. "Aren't you going to uncuff me?" Garak waved a hand. "Tsk, tsk -- impatience won't accomplish anything. We need to think about this," he supplied, a mocking parody of a thoughtful look on his features. "Think about what Garak? The computer is off, and we need to stop Dr Noah. Now uncuff me!" Garak pursed his lips. _How blatantly stupid do you think I am? How can I even _think_ of mistaking that look for something other than arousal?_ He suddenly recoiled in surprise. "Oh now Doctor, why such aggressiveness when this whole little episode evidently has _no_ bearing with Dr Noah? Why did you change the program, Doctor?" he inquired seductively, rounding Julian and leaning close to his ear. The human fidgeted, and tried the cuffs for himself, knowing they would not cede thanks to his own arrangements. "I don't know what you're talking about Garak." "Don't you?" Garak hissed. His hand stole downward to touch the human's smooth wrists and gently caress the steel metal of Julian's handcuffs. "Or were you so intrigued by this scene last time, that you concocted this whole scheme to test your suspicions ..." The hand traced feather-light trails up Julian's sleeve, and the young man felt a shudder of excitement course through him. The feeling promptly dissolved as the hand retracted and Julian moaned softly in protest. "So I was right . . ." Garak whispered, a contended sigh surrounding the words. "I must say Doctor ... I may have expressed reserve in finding out about your fantasies in the past, but this proves me quite wrong. I'm even surprised you enjoy this ... I shamefully confess that I couldn't predict this since you were so obviously enthralled with the lovely Trill's attentions -- how was I to know your darker secret was to have me free while you were still chained to this support? Had I known that before, I'd had taken you by now . . ." "Gara--" "Hush my dear," the tailor's voice breathed on his neck. "You wanted this -- then you shall have it." "But--" "Do you *want* me to get annoyed?" he asked sharply, moving round to catch Julian's eyes with his own. The doctor shied away from the intensity of his stare and nodded quickly, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Garak smiled and elevated his hand to that throat, tracing the sinuous curves with a firmness that surprised Julian. Garak's other hand wandered to his waist, unfastening the lowest button on Julian's jacket and unclipping each of the others as it moved upward. When the coat was no longer bound, Garak left the exploration on Julian's throat and harshly pulled the jacket down the doctor's shoulders, up to a point where it could go no further. With an annoyed growl, Garak tugged firmly at the cloth, and the jacket ripped behind Julian. The human gaped in surprise, and quickly found himself with the tailor's tongue boring deeply into his mouth, exploring him with dominating force. Julian closed his eyes and inhaled Garak's scent, his closeness ... the way his various ridges brushed against his skin and provided exquisite stimulation. Pulling away, Garak cleared his throat as he began fussing over the tiny buttons on Julian's white shirt. Panting hard now, the young man nonetheless gathered enough wit to form a coherent sentence, "Could you not rip it this tim--" His eyes stretched wide as Garak pressed his palm against his mouth, gazing deeply into the depth of his bronze stare. "I'll only say this once Doctor, because you obviously have no knowledge of Cardassian practices -- when you're bound by your lover, it is *not* wise to request anything. Understood?" Julian's head bobbed up and down against the tailor's hand. "Good ... now let's see about this shirt --" He pursed his lips in annoyance. "I should really tailor you some proper wear . . ." he mused. Then, with one fluid movement, the shirt fell upon the sandy ground in tatters. "Much better," Garak sighed, closing his eyes against Julian's smooth golden chest as he pressed his face on the glistening expanse. His contrasting gray fingers played a symphony of sensations across his skin, tickling in some areas, pinching and leaving reddened trails in others. But Garak's mouth was never far behind, his tongue following his fingers' path with clashing tenderness as it tried to explore every square inch of Julian's body in one lap. Finally, Julian threw back his head, pressing it hard against the cold steel that was his prison, closing his eyes in bliss as Garak continued to elicit the most intense sensations on his body. Barely five minutes later, the pants were discarded across the frayed shirt and jacket, briefs not far behind. Julian began to protest the exclusion of Garak's undressing, but then thought better of it. The look the Cardassian had thrown him on the birth of his objection was enough to suggest total silence. The Cardassian then kneeled down and began adulating Julian's riches. Slowly he pressed wet kisses on Julian's slim waist, breathing in the human sexual scent as he moved with maddening indolence toward what Julian craved so desperately to have attention paid to. Smiling at the young man's impatience, Garak stretched his arms to reach his chest, urgently caressing the flesh -- pinching the sensitive nipples and eventually sliding his hands down Julian's arms to rest on the cold metallic cuffs. He sighed. He knew Julian was not truly bound -- the doctor could dissolve the restraints by a mere command. Yet somehow, he had made no move to do so, faithfully obeying Garak's request for silence. The command was quickly forgotten though -- As the tailor finally closed warm moist lips around Julian's fiery erection, the tunnels were filled with the doctor's boisterous cries. "Oh! Elim!!!" Julian cried, thrusting his hips forward to plunge deeper into Garak's heated depths. The tailor closed his eyes, listening and reveling at the sound of his name . . . a name he thought would never be uttered in the throes of passion by his dearest Julian. He redoubled his effort, now adding to the doctor's stimulation his fingers as they played against the human's tender cleft. Overloaded by the sensory ecstasy of the Cardassian's nimble ministrations on his body, Julian rode quickly toward his release -- It was only when Garak's finger dipped inside him to provide the extra push that Julian came with an intensity that surprised even Garak. When Garak had swallowed everything, he sucked at the softening organ a moment more before straightening up. He lingered a kiss on Julian sinuous lips and smiled against the soft flesh. "Computer, remove Julian Bashir's handcuffs." "Have you brought a uniform?" Garak inquired, glancing significantly at the remnants of Julian's clothes. The young man rested his head on the beam, exhausted by the shattering climax he'd just experienced. "Yes, I -- I thought to bring one," he replied. Garak tipped his head in acknowledgment. "Then I shall see you later, dear Julian." With what, the tailor walked away, rounded a rock and was gone. Julian smiled and began picking up the scattered shreds of his tuxedo. --------------------------------------------------------- Flushed -- deeply contended, Julian stepped out of the holosuite and smiled pleasantly as he made his way toward the metal staircase. As he reached the end of the corridor, another holosuite door opened, and out walked Garak with a similar expression on his face. "Garak!" the doctor blurted out in surprise, halting the Cardassian in mid-stride. The tailor turned, equally surprised to see the doctor there. Their gaze promptly connected, and for a moment electricity seemed to sizzle between them as both recalled their individual encounter with vivid clarity. At last, Julian cleared his throat and pointed lightly at the stairs. "Lunch?" "Why of course Doctor," Garak said with his usual graciousness. As he swiveled round to walk down the steps, his smile turned mischievous. "And you can tell me *all* about your little holosuite fantasy," he suggested in that courteous tone of his which turned insult into praise. Julian's embarrassment was quickly cloaked. Smiling smugly as they made their way down, he nodded sumptuously. "Why certainly Garak. And you can tell me all about yours . . ."