Disclaimer:
The Star Trek universe is the copyrighted property of Paramount, and 
borrowed solely for the use of this story. The story is copyright 1997 
by Ariana (ariana@ndirect.co.uk). All rights reserved. Do not distribute
without the present header and the author's written permission. Please
contact the author if you wish to include this story in an archive.
Archived at:  http://www.alpha.ndirect.co.uk/trek/
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                    The Cardassian Surprise
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                by Ariana (ariana@ndirect.co.uk)
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Dukat looked around Ops in irritation. Where was Major Kira when he needed
her? A mini-crisis was brewing in Engineering ever since one of the
Cardassian women there accused a guard from the Bajoran Militia of molesting
her. Dukat didn't sincerely believe the woman's accusations, but it added
grist to his mill as far as the Dominion's cosy relations with Bajor were
concerned. If handled properly, this incident might even give him the handle
he needed to get rid of the Militia altogether. He would really prefer to
live on a station which was not full of potential assassins.

But first, he needed to get hold of Major Kira and communicate his official
disapproval of the Militia's supposed behaviour. In fact, he was rather
looking forward to the confrontation which was bound to ensue when he told
her the news. He stood for a moment behind the door to Ops, wondering where
she was, when he suddenly remembered it was her day off.

"Computer," he called out. "Location of Major Kira?"

"Major Kira is in springball court number one."

Springball? He remembered seeing the courts on the revised schematics of the
station when he first took over. Cardassians didn't play such stupid,
mindless games, so he had ordered the courts to be closed off, with a view
to transforming them into storage rooms at some point. There was no need for
extra storage rooms, however, so the courts had simply been abandoned.

Dukat smiled at the thought of Major Kira playing springball. He knew it was
one of her favourite games, and that the Federation even used to organise
springball tournaments in her honour. He had no idea why anyone would want
to waste time running around whacking a ball when they could be exercising
their minds with intelligent games like kotra or kalevian montar. But then t
he Bajorans were a "spiritual" people; they couldn't possibly want to play
games that would make them *think*.

His smile widened; one had to admit the Bajorans were remarkably stupid
people. Centuries and centuries of civilisation, early space flight,
advances in medicine and science which it had taken Cardassians centuries to
catch up on, and the best they could come up with was a blind adoration for
the wormhole aliens. A waste of potential. But a waste which had once stood
him in good stead.

In the meantime, there was one stupid Bajoran he had to see right now, so he
left his office and headed for the turbolift.

The springball arena was dark and empty; only one court at the further end
was illuminated, and Dukat could hear the echoing impact of Kira's ball as
he entered. He walked through the empty seats and up to the brightly lit
court, leaning against the glass pane to watch Kira play.

She was wearing a tight halter and a pair of shorts -- an unusual outfit for
her, and a pleasant sight for him. He admired the whiteness of her exposed
skin and the movement of the lean muscles beneath it as she ran and struck
at the flying ball. As he had guessed from observing her in uniform, she was
extremely thin, nearly excessively so. Perhaps she was fasting in the hopes
that it would make the Cardassians leave. Dukat smiled at the idea, but he
wouldn't put anything past the Bajorans.

He wouldn't have said Kira was his type; he usually went for women who had a
bit more flesh on their bones and in particular, a much sharper wit. Kira
had a sharp personality, but she had no wit, which was a pity, because
considering her violently hostile feelings for him, they could have engaged
in some very interesting verbal confrontations. As it was, all he got from
her were unimaginative insults.

And yet he had been entertaining fantasies about this woman for years. He
tried to remember when he had first started to think of her as an acceptable
quarry. It must have been some time before they went to rescue Ziyal; he
clearly remembered the delight he felt at discovering that Kira was the one
who had found the Ravinok, though that adventure had turned out to be a
mixed blessing. He knew that his interest in Kira was reinforced afterwards
by the way Ziyal never stopped talking about her. But when had he first
noticed her? When the station's defence systems had gone awry? When he was
captured by the Maquis?

It really didn't matter. He had always liked Bajoran women, just as he
appreciated their food and drink. After all, he had spent most of his life,
and all his career, on Bajor. For the past few years, Major Kira had been
the only Bajoran woman he spent any length of time with, and since she was
young and lively, it was perhaps only natural that his libido should latch
onto her. A pretty face, a slim waist, round hips, and all fitted into a
tight red uniform -- plenty to feed any man's fantasy, really.

But Kira wasn't just any Bajoran. She was a former resistance fighter from
the Shakaar, one of those people who had turned his life upside down six
years earlier. The people who had killed Naprem, who had ruined his career,
who had destroyed all his hopes of a happy retirement on his adoptive
planet. He had had his revenge against the Federation, who had weakened
Cardassia, and the Central Command, who had ordered him to withdraw. So far,
the Dominion had only denied him his revenge against the new Bajor, but he
was hopeful that might change some day. And in the meantime, he knew he
would feel some measure of satisfaction if he could bed Kira Nerys, the
proud resistant, the First Minister's former mistress.

The First Minister must have had a good time, he reflected wryly. Kira
certainly seemed to have plenty of energy. If she expended as much of it in
love making as she did in pursuing that ridiculous ball, she must be quite
something. His eyes followed her movements, lingering on the curves beneath
the sheer material of her skimpy garments.

Kira lifted her arm for a volley and Dukat glimpsed the curve of a
well-rounded breast before the vision was obscured as she turned away. There
*was* some flesh on those bones, and in the only places that counted -- her
hips and bust. He wondered what it would be like to run his hands along that
soft skin, moist and warm after the effort, to watch the reaction on her
face when he made love to her. She would be angry, of course, possibly
unwilling, though he was confident he knew enough tricks to awaken her
desire, even presuming that she didn't want him.

He wondered if she ever had erotic fantasies about him, and if she did, what
they involved. Him tied up in chains and her with a whip, no doubt. He
smiled at the thought; if such were her fantasies, they would never come
true. He was the most powerful man in the sector, the most feared leader in
the Quadrant, and if he ever got Major Kira into his bed, he would make sure
she remembered exactly who he was. Not the destitute former Prefect, the
demoted Legate, that pathetic shadow of himself that she had known all those
years when this place was called Deep Space Nine; no, he would show her that
he was as powerful as he had once been helpless, as feared as he had once
been ridiculed, strong enough now to destroy her and her planet on a whim.
The Dominion notwithstanding.

But it would be fun teaching her that lesson, he thought, his eyes resting
lazily on her posterior. If he wanted to, he could enter the court now, just
wrap his arms around her small body, pull her down onto the floor, and put
his plans for revenge to immediate execution... but she would fight, he
would have to use force to subdue her. There would be no victory in that.
But he indulged in the idea, breathing more deeply as the thoughts kindled a
familiar sensation in his groin.

* * *

Kira was entirely concentrated on her game. This was exactly what she had
needed, some physical exertion to take her mind off things, a time to be
alone, away from the Cardassians and the Jem'Hadar, from Damar's sneers and
Weyoun's smirks, from the war, and not least, away from Gul Dukat and his
insufferable pursuit of her.

She couldn't stand his innuendoes and smarmy chat-up lines at the best of
times, but they became particularly unbearable at periods like this, when
Nature decreed it was time to perpetuate the species. She had to laugh at
her body's idea of good candidates to perpetuate the species with; in the
past, it had responded enthusiastically to males from a variety of races,
regardless of whether she actually *liked* them or not. Bashir, Sisko...
even *Quark* for the Prophets' sakes! Gul Dukat was no exception. In fact,
he was worse, because of those infamous Cardassian pheromones. Fortunately,
the chemical inhibitor ensured that her instincts didn't get out of hand,
and that no-one, not even a Bajoran male, could tell she was in season. But
she didn't always want to use it; this was an exhilarating time that all
Bajoran women were proud of, the proof, some said, that women were the
Prophets' chosen ones.

Since this was her day off, she had hardly used the inhibitor at all,
preferring to spend the day on her own. She had spent part of the morning in
bed, enjoying the strange constructs that her mind came up with on days like
these, and then had said the traditional prayers to thank the Prophets for
this sign of her fertility. But by the afternoon, she had found herself once
more thinking about the dire situation she was in and how angry and
frustrated her helplessness made her.

Most of her anger focused on Dukat as the most obvious source of her
problems. That bastard had always had his eyes on Bajor, and it was only
because Weyoun was anxious to preserve the non-aggression pact that
Cardassian troops weren't presently swarming around Dakhur. Yes, ironic that
the Dominion should be the only obstacle to Dukat's ambition. Without them,
his megalomania would know no bounds.

She had begun the afternoon indulging in a fantasy about exactly what she
would do to Dukat, if she had a chance to exact some revenge for all the
hardships she had endured because of him and his ilk. She would want to
whack that smug smile off his grey face, knock that arrogance out with a
well-placed blow. She imagined Dukat at her mercy, grovelling before her as
she had once seen Bajorans grovel before their Cardassian masters, begging
for leniency when she punished him for all the misery he had caused. That
mental image brought her great satisfaction, especially when she began to
think up more subtle ways of causing pain or humiliation. But she soon grew
alarmed at the scenarios her mind made up, and particularly the sexual
thrill they provoked. She decided a more acceptable outlet for her sudden
sadistic impulses would be a good game of springball.

By now, she had nearly forgotten about Dukat. All that mattered was the
ball, to strike it hard and hit it when it came back, careful to keep its
impact within the bounds of the mural markings. The physical exertion the
game required soothed her anger and calmed some of the frustrations which
had built up since Terok Nor was first reconquered. She had spent many hours
like this, playing with the children in her village, with Bareil, sometimes
even with Miles and Julian. But now all those people were gone, and she was
left to play the game alone.

She turned to strike a reverse blow near the front of the court and caught
sight of an unfamiliar dark shadow in the corner of her eye. Her mind
identified it as a humanoid and she let the ball fall as she turned around
and faced her unexpected visitor. Her features hardened with hostility when
she saw who was standing there watching her.

Dukat simply smiled in response to her scowl and entered the court, walking
towards her with a confident swagger in his step. In the flat shoes she wore
for exercising, Kira was a good deal shorter than him and had to look up as
he approached. This increased her anger just as it seemed to increase his
self-satisfaction.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped, struggling to get her breath back.

"Taking my first springball lesson, it seems," he said coolly.

Dukat stopped a couple of meters away from her and looked down at her
heaving chest with obvious delight. She was thankful he hadn't come up close
to her as usual; between her current physiological state and the recent
effort, she was probably giving out quite an interesting odour, the
implications of which Dukat was sure to understand.

"I wouldn't have thought you were interested in ball games," she said
angrily.

"No," he admitted. "I must say there are plenty of other games I had rather
play with you."

Kira shivered at the obviousness of his remark. So much for the idea that
Cardassians were subtle. Taking a deep breath, she strode purposefully past
him, heading for the exit.

"But springball would do," he added as she passed.

She hesitated for a second, wondering whether she should respond to this
remark. But she didn't have anything clever to say, so she just walked out
and picked up her towel, which was lying on the front bench.

"I take it you don't want to teach me," boomed Dukat's voice from behind
her.

She dabbed some of the sweat off her face and wished she were anywhere but
here. "No, you're right, I don't."

She turned around and was surprised to find that the expression on his face
had changed. His smile was now pleasant rather than predatory, and she
wondered what had brought about this sudden change of attitude. He had to be
up to something.

"Actually, I am quite curious as to the rules of this game," he said. "It
seems to require a lot of energy."

His eyes strayed down to her chest again and she felt an unwelcome thrill
run through her. For some reason, she remembered it had been a long time
since she had made love when she was on heat. The last time had been with
Shakaar, before she was pregnant. Even when her cycle had returned to normal
a few months after Kirayoshi's birth, the timing had never been right. Her
eyes automatically fell to the front of Dukat's tight trousers.

"You could teach me how to play." Dukat's voice broke into her short
fantasy. She looked away rapidly, hoping he hadn't noticed what she was
looking at.

"I'm sure you can get a set of rules from Quark," she said shortly, holding
the towel up in front of her to hide her cleavage.

"I'd rather have a set of rules from you."

She huffed irritably, trying to recapture the anger she had felt earlier,
but failing even to reduce her arousal. "You can probably work them out for
yourself."

"I understand. You must be tired." He seemed about to add something else,
but hesitated before finally saying, "It wouldn't be a fair match."

No indeed, it wouldn't be a fair match. If he really knew nothing about
springball, she would beat him in three straight sets. And he did know
springball - and she found it difficult to believe he would be so insistent
if he didn't - then she would lose because she was already tired. But either
way, she knew it would be a good outlet for her hormone-induced excitement.
And if she did beat him, it would give her great satisfaction.

She threw away her towel and announced, "We'll soon see about that."

Dukat was delighted. He hadn't expected his half-hearted ploy to actually
work, particularly as he really had no desire to try his hand at springball.
But now that Kira had accepted, he felt he couldn't back down, or she would
accuse him of not knowing what he wanted, and leave. And he definitely
wanted her to stay with him. Especially after he had smelled her aroma as
she passed.

He made no effort to conceal his feral grin. So, Major Kira was on heat.
That was something he hadn't sensed for years; ever since they had been on
the Groumall, in fact, though he had been too polite to mention it at the
time. This was truly too good an opportunity to miss.

After a moment's hesitation, he removed his armour and boots, acutely
conscious of Kira's curious gaze. He wasn't sure if revealing his slim body
to her was such a bright idea; if memory served him well, she seemed to go
for big muscular types. Field-hands - the woman really had no taste. Dukat
didn't exactly think of himself as spindly, but he did believe he looked
better *with* his armour, since he didn't have the stocky build of most men
in his species. It was something that had always bothered him on a
semiconscious level, and he was thankful his armour concealed his thinness
while having the added advantage that it was a magnificent showcase for his
neck ridges.

Still, he couldn't possibly hope to play this pathetic game effectively with
a restrictive carapace on. At least his body was still completely concealed
by the remaining garments, from his dark blue tunic to the slippers he wore
inside his boots. And given that Major Kira had no taste, maybe she wouldn't
mind seeing him like this. He watched her expression carefully as he joined
her in the court.

She didn't look disgusted, or disappointed, but she was staring quite hard
at him, looking him over with surprise. He grinned and twirled around so she
could see him better. By the time he had turned back to her, she was
smiling. Not because she found him ridiculous, he realised, but simply
because she was amused by his reaction to her scrutiny. She fought to hide
her smile and looked away when she caught his eye, but Dukat still felt she
wasn't quite as hostile towards him as usual. Admittedly, she was on heat.

He took the racket she handed him and listened patiently to the general
instructions she recited. They then began to play. As could be expected,
Dukat fared very badly. In fact, he began to think the ball was a sentient
being with a mind of its own. While Major Kira was able to hit it every time
*and* send it into the correct area of the wall, he kept missing the ball,
and even if he did manage to hit it, it went in completely the wrong
direction each time. Kira was winning.

However, Dukat wasn't worried about that. He didn't care about losing some
pathetic Bajoran game. Far more important was the fact he was getting quite
turned on by all this physical activity in Kira's company. This didn't
really help his coordination; the whiff he got every time he came close to
her made his head spin, and his arousal made it increasingly difficult for
him to move gracefully. As he missed another easy shot, he wondered if now
would be a good time to jump on her. He decided he didn't want to make an
utter fool of himself, or, worse, force himself on her and forever lose a
chance to *persuade* her that he had been right all the time. Right about
Bajor's need for a strong hand, right about his own innate superiority, and
most of all, right about how much she needed him.

While his mind was formulating these reflections, his body was making inept
attempts at mimicking Kira's movements. He took an ill-advised dive, missed
the ball, slipped, and ended up flat on his back. He lay in shock for a
moment, torn between the physical pain where he had fallen on his right
shoulder, and the utter humiliation of his attempt at playing springball. He
groaned as his body decided the physical pain was what required his
immediate attention.

Kira's legs came into his field of vision and he looked up at her, certain
that she must be laughing at him following such a ridiculous display. Still,
he could bear her making fun of him; she would certainly be justified. But
Kira wasn't laughing. She crouched down beside him, thus inadvertently
bringing her hips closer to his face. The scent of her pheromones washed
over him, drawing his mind's attention off his bruised shoulder and onto
less painful parts of his body. He wasn't sure if he wanted Kira to notice
or not, but he was certain that, if her eyes did happen to stray down to his
trousers, she would know exactly what was on his mind.

"Are you all right?" asked Kira, apparently sincerely concerned.

Dukat had recovered enough from the shock of the fall to realise exactly how
ludicrous the situation was. "Oh, I think my pride will recover some day,"
he laughed. "Give me a year or two."

She leant over him and smiled. "I guess we'll have to call it a day."

He expected her to get up and leave, but she stayed where she was. He seized
the opportunity to have a good look at her scantily-clad body. Her bare
knees were only a few centimetres away from his chest; he admired the
contrast between her downy skin and the smooth material which started
halfway down her thighs, then let his gaze drift to the shallow curves of
her stomach. He couldn't see her groin from this angle, so his eyes followed
the outline of her hip, the dip of her slim waist. As he looked higher up he
realised her breasts were heaving harder than they had been a moment before.
Her lips were parted, her eyes half-closed, her gaze definitely focused
beneath his waistline.

Kira had never seen Dukat like this, unarmed and unarmoured, lying helpless
and aroused while she towered over him. Her concern at his heavy fall
vanished as she realised he was fine. Very fine indeed, judging from what
she could see. She wondered vaguely why Cardassian soldiers wore such tight
trousers. But right now, she was rather glad they did; Dukat didn't look
very dignified, sprawled out like this, and she knew he realised it.

She felt a strong impulse to take advantage of the situation. It would be
very easy for her to seduce him, or strangle him - whichever caught her
fancy. All she had to do was straddle his chest, and he would be
immobilised. Or she could straddle his hips and see which of the scurrilous
rumours of the Occupation were true. She licked her lips unconsciously at
that thought. There had been plenty of speculation, even amongst the
Resistance, as to the sexual prowess of the Cardassians. Some Bajoran women
who had slept with soldiers reported that they were nothing to write home
about, while others told tales of exceptional virility. Naturally, the first
version was the one Kira had heard most often.

But having dragged her eyes away from Dukat's trousers and back to his face,
Kira suddenly decided she should get up and leave. Dukat was watching her
intently, his expression serious now that he had noticed her reaction to his
arousal. If she stayed, he would have no difficulty in seducing her; she was
very excited, both by her overactive hormones and, though she barely dared
admit it even to herself, by the very ideal of letting Gul Dukat have his
way with her. If he touched her, if he tried to caress her... She started to
get up, but he seized her wrist and pulled her back down.

"Aren't you going to help me up?" he purred, using his free hand to stroke
her hip.

She knew the literal meaning of his question was innocent enough, but the
sexual innuendo wasn't lost on her either. Her body quivered instinctively,
responding enthusiastically to his touch. She had sometimes wondered, even
when she was fighting them in the Resistance, what it would be like to have
sex with a Cardassian. It was a disgusting idea, the very epitome of
perversion, but some depraved part of her - perhaps that part which was the
Mirror Universe's Intendant - insisted on finding the idea exciting.
However, this did not mean she was going to act out her fantasy with Gul
Dukat. She yanked her hand away from him and stood up.

"I don't think you need any help," she snapped, turning to leave the court.

She found her towel and went into the changing room, purposefully resisting
the temptation to look back and see what Dukat was up to. She didn't think
he would just let her walk away. He had been known to do so on other
occasions, but somehow, she knew this time, he would follow her; hardly
surprising, considering the chemical come-on she must have given him.

Kira was about to enter a cubicle to change back into her uniform, when she
became aware of Dukat's pheromones. He had to be standing just behind her,
and she was shocked to find how quiet he was without his creaking armour and
heavy boots.

"You smell very nice," he said, his breath tickling the tiny hairs on the
back of her neck.

She shivered involuntarily, cursing her hormones as she braced herself.
"Leave me alone, Dukat."

She felt him move even closer, brushing against her buttocks and breathing
more heavily on her neck. The touches were frustratingly brief and light,
and before she had time to think about what she was doing, Kira leant back
to press against him. It was only a moment before she tried to pull away
again, but by then, his hands had snaked around her waist.

"Let go," she demanded a little weakly. She couldn't possibly let this
happen; bad enough that she was collaborating with the Dominion occupation
forces, she didn't need to be sleeping with Gul Dukat as well.

"Now, now, Major," he said softly, tightening his hold on her. "You don't
need to be afraid. I know what I'm doing."

"I'm sure you do," she growled, struggling to get out of his arms. "I just
don't want you to do it to me."

"Really?" He was gently rubbing his chin ridges below her ear, before
replacing them with his lips for a more Bajoran type of caress. His hand
moved down over her lower stomach, making her weak in the knees as she let
out a gasp of surprise. Kira became conscious that she was excited not only
by his pheromones and caresses, but also by the though that Gul Dukat, the
interstellar dictator, her long-time nemesis, was about to touch her
intimately. Her rational mind was horrified by this perversion, urging her
to refuse now, before it was too late.

"No!" she cried out, leaning forward and pushing down on his arms to try and
disengage herself from his grasp. "Let go, Dukat!"

Kira felt him hesitate, but then he heaved a loud sigh and let go of her.
She leant against the nearest wall to catch her breath and try to calm her
raging hormones. Her breath complied to her will and became more regular,
but her excitement stayed the same. Now that he was no longer holding her,
she found herself yearning to be back in his embrace. She didn't dare look
at him, in case she felt tempted to touch him.

How could she have been so stupid as to place herself in this position in
the first place? She knew from the minute she saw him enter the court what
Dukat had on his mind. Under any other circumstances, she would have walked
away before he got a chance to touch her, not engaged in some ridiculous
game. And yet she couldn't even blame the encounter entirely on her
hormones. She knew she wouldn't be so excited if the man before her was
Damar.

"Go away, Dukat," she ordered, pleased to find she sounded a lot calmer than
she felt.

"I can't."

His statement was softly spoken, but she looked up at him in alarm. If he
wouldn't obey and leave her alone, it was possible he was planning to rape
her. Given his flushed skin and slightly swollen neck ridges, he was
probably sorely tempted to take her, regardless of whether she wanted to or
not. His breath was irregular, his chest heaving under his thick tunic; she
didn't even dare look further down.

"What happened to your Cardassian discipline?" she said, trying to sound
sarcastic.

"I lost it at springball," he replied, taking a step closer.

Dukat watched Kira's throat contract for a nervous swallow as he brushed
against her once more. She was incredibly pretty in the soft light of the
changing room; very pretty, and extremely desirable. The chemical messages
her body was sending out were making it increasingly difficult for him to
restrain himself. In fact, they made it positively impossible.

Before Kira even had time to react, Dukat had once more wrapped his arms
around her and was trying to kiss her mouth. Unfazed by her refusal to open
her mouth to him, he ran his tongue gently along her lips, fighting the
instinct to simply dump her on the floor and jump on her. That was the sort
of thing a Klingon might do, but he liked to think that Cardassians, and
himself in particular, were a little more refined.

A little part of him wasn't sure if this was such a good idea; there was
always the possibility that this liaison might turn against him -- Kira
could accuse him of rape, for instance. Though that wouldn't particularly
bother him, because it wasn't true, he knew it would bother Weyoun a lot.
The Vorta was positively paranoid about keeping good relations with Bajor,
and Dukat knew he would be in for more than a severe dressing down from the
Dominion if there was any suggestion he might have raped the Bajoran liaison
officer.

But this wasn't rape. She was definitely willing. Kira had wrapped her arms
around him and was starting to return his kisses. He was pleased to know she
had chosen not to fight her natural instincts. Of course, he knew enough
about Bajoran women to know controlling their passion at times like this
wasn't easy, but it was feasible, and something many of the Bajoran women he
had seduced under the Occupation had done very well. It was partly because
of that that he had been careful to learn the caresses which would make them
open to his advances; he had never had any desire to injure them. But he had
also learnt because nothing could please him more than to dominate a woman
through her own passion.

This was what he wanted from Kira -- to make her helpless with lust for him,
to conquer her not by force, but simply by kindling her desire. He had
always known the day would come when he would hold Major Kira Nerys in his
arms, when she would let him taste her white skin and run his hands over her
body like this. He had known it would happen, but it was exhilarating to
have his convictions confirmed.

Determined to show gentlemanly restraint in the face of her growing passion,
he took his time, kissing her cheek and neck, trying not to fondle her hips
too harshly. Already he could hear her heavy breathing and feel her writhing
against him in frustration. Kira Nerys wanted him; she was kissing his mouth
and nose, running her hand through his hair, involuntarily rubbing his neck
ridges with her bare arms. The sensation of her body moving against his
began to weigh on his civilised intentions, and the desire to get her naked
and into a horizontal position grew overwhelming.

To be fair, it did occur to his rational mind that the floor of the changing
room was not the best place for his long-awaited seduction of Major Kira.
But he knew he couldn't afford to propose a change of venue, either; by the
time they reached his quarters or hers, she would have had time to come to
her senses, and he didn't want that at all. Instead, he sank to the ground,
pulling her abruptly down with him and then pushing her onto her back.

He held her down, his hands loosely restraining her wrists, his lower body
pinning her to the floor. He was starting to fumble with his trousers when
he realised that this lacked the finesse he usually applied when seducing a
new conquest. He briefly considered whether he should slow the pace and give
her a demonstration of his talents, as was his original intention, or if he
should just get to the point straight away. Attractive though the second
option was, he didn't want to give her any excuse to brand him an
insensitive lover.

Now that he had her in a horizontal position, he needed to get her naked so
she would get the full benefit of his expertise. Still leaning against her
in case she might change her mind, he pulled on her shorts and struggled to
roll them down her thighs. She bent her legs to make it easier for him to
remove the garment. He took that as another excellent sign that she really
wanted him to continue, and released his hold on her somewhat in order to
place himself in between her legs. He leant down to kiss the smooth skin on
her thigh; he would prove that he could indeed make life very pleasant for
her on the occupied station.

He was just starting to work his way down her thigh when he felt her fingers
entwine in his hair. She stroked his head for a few moments, apparently
encouraging him to continue what he was doing. He obediently continued to
trail kisses along her thigh, towards her bare crotch. But before he reached
his destination, the hand on his head contracted, grasping a handful of hair
and tugging until Dukat had no choice but to follow the movement and lie on
top of her. Kira apparently had no intention of letting him be a gentleman.
Ah well, one couldn't expect her to appreciate the finesse of good
lovemaking anyway, he thought. She was only a former terrorist, after all.

He forgot all about revenge, restraint or common sense when Kira slid her
hand inside the back of his trousers and grabbed one of his buttocks rather
crudely. Taking the unsubtle hint, Dukat pushed his trousers down as far as
he could get them in his present position, which was far enough for his
purposes. Kira wrapped her legs around his hips and from that point onwards,
it didn't even matter to him that she was Major Kira Nerys. All he knew was
that she was tight, warm and Bajoran, and that it had been far too long
since he had enjoyed this kind of activity.

Kira was also on the verge of forgetting that this was Gul Dukat. She could
feel some scales rubbing against her inner thighs and the scent was
unmistakably Cardassian; her half open eyes could still see his familiar
face only a few centimetres away from hers. But what really mattered was
that he was warm and strong, and just at the right angle in this position.
She closed her eyes and let her rational mind shut down completely, leaving
her hormone-ravaged body to fully enjoy what he was doing to her. It had
been far too long since she had had sex with anyone, let alone when she was
on heat, and she revelled in the sensations.

This was a turn neither of them had envisaged for their relationship. Kira
had hoped the moment would never come when she would willingly submit to
Dukat. Dukat had hoped that, when the moment came, he would seduce Kira in
the warm, traditional setting of a bedroom. But instead, they were having
intense, noisy sex on the floor of the springball changing-rooms.

Kira knew she couldn't stand much more of this. Each rapid thrust of his
hips left her breathless and exhausted, but the warmth radiating from the
friction inside her made her moan with pleasure, clawing and biting at him,
unable to decide whether she actually wanted him to stop or if she bear just
a few seconds more. He gave her the few seconds more anyway, and she let out
a wail as the warmth in the pit of her stomach turned to fire. As far as she
was concerned, he could stop right now; she was satiated.

Dukat was vaguely aware of Kira's moans, and he wondered briefly if he was
hurting her. But it would have taken an army of Klingons to stop him now; he
would enquire as to her health once he was finished. In the meantime, he
needed to keep up the rhythm of his hips so that the pressure of her sex
continued to rub him at exactly the right speed. Kira's cries broke into his
concentration and he opened his eyes to look at her. Her head was thrown
back, eyes closed and lips parted, while she let out wanton moans that would
put Quark's holoprograms to shame. Seeing Kira like this just added to the
pleasure of the experience, and he soon let out some undignified cries of
his own.

Kira heard Dukat's groans and became aware that his movements had slowed
down. She could feel the warm stickiness inside her, and was surprised to
find the thought that this came from Gul Dukat didn't disgust her quite as
much as it should have. But then she wasn't thinking very clearly right now.

She let out a long sigh of satisfaction when Dukat stopped thrusting and lay
on top of her. He kissed her neck a lot more gently than she would have
expected, and she opened her eyes to look at him. He looked tired, his
craggy face dark and drawn, though he smiled at her with just a hint of his
usual smirk when he realised she was watching him. She didn't smile back.

Kira had expected him to roll off her straight away, but instead, he stayed
where he was, only manoeuvring himself into a different position. His penis
slid out of her and she became aware that he was rubbing her sex with some
kind of ridge that ran down his pubis. It wasn't long before she realised
what he was planning to do with it, though she didn't understand why he
thought she would get any pleasure from it right then.

Curious to see where this was leading, she let him position her hips so that
her bottom was resting on his lap and he was able to press the ridge against
her sensitised vulva. For a moment, she was acutely aware of the obscenity
of his clothed body leaning over her naked lower stomach. He wasn't smiling
anymore; concentration and desire were all she could read on his grey face.
Then he began to move his hips and she closed her eyes as a shock wave of
pleasure hit her. The powerful sensation was familiar, but the feeling of
his ridge against her wasn't. Not knowing what else to do with them, she
lifted her arms above her head, arching her back as the pleasure grew more
intense.

The sensation soon came close to unbearable, and she tried to push him away,
her hands clawing ineffectually at his thick tunic. He didn't stop, and to
tell the truth, she didn't want him to. She just gave in.

He was looking very pleased with himself when she recovered enough to open
her eyes. Sweet Prophets, he had good reason to be, too. That was
incredible.

"What was *that*?" she exclaimed breathlessly.

Dukat's grin widened. "A Cardassian surprise. I'm glad you enjoyed it,
Major."

She responded with a humourless grunt and rolled onto her front, burying her
face in her arms; not from sorrow or even anger, but just sheer
embarrassment. She had just had an orgasm because of some disgusting
Cardassian trick performed on her by *Gul Dukat*. The man would never let
her forget it; she had just handed him the key to making her life a misery
from now on. No matter how much she would protest that she didn't like him
and didn't want an intimate relationship with him, Dukat would always be
able to remind her how he had made her moan and writhe in abandon.

Kira could hear him moving beside her -- pulling up his trousers, by the
sound of it. Blessed Prophets, this was mortifying. She had had some
perverse fantasies about sex with Cardassians before, quite a few of which
had involved Dukat, but she had never imagined she would actually fulfil
them. Damn the Prophets' gift!

She felt his hand caress her naked bottom and heaved a sigh, wishing she
could be beamed back to Bajor or onto the Defiant -- anything to be away
from Dukat and not have to face him after what she had just let him do.

"Are you all right?" she heard him ask.

She wondered what had prompted him to say that. Did he think he had hurt
her? Surely it would have been obvious to even the most obtuse human that
she had appreciated, in fact thoroughly enjoyed, his love-making. But she
mentally examined her body and found that she was indeed feeling some aches
and pains. The coarse carpet had scraped her buttocks, and she was probably
going to have some nice bruising on her inner thighs. But that wasn't
anything worse than could be expected after some energetic sex. Energetic;
to say the least. Somehow, she had always suspected that Dukat would be good
in bed -- or out of it.

"I'm fine," she snapped, keeping her nose firmly pressed against the carpet.
She didn't want to look at him; she just wanted him to go away and leave her
alone.

"I'm glad to hear it," he purred, his hand still stroking her. His fingers
slid in between her legs.

Kira immediately sat up. "Get your hands off of me, Dukat," she growled,
looking around to find her shorts. They were curled up in a corner of the
room, where Dukat had thrown them earlier, so Kira had to crawl over to get
them. Having unravelled the garment and slipped it back on, she stood up
and, feeling a lot more confident now she wasn't completely naked, looked at
Dukat.

He was lying on his back, his head propped up on one arm as he observed her
through half-closed eyes. She couldn't believe she had been so weak as to
let him seduce her, that she was so desperate as to enjoy making love to a
Cardassian. She would never be able to face any of her friends again -- what
would Odo, Jake, Rom... even Quark, think of her if they found out? And,
looking down at Dukat's smug grin, she found it difficult to believe they
wouldn't find out. This spoonhead bastard was bound to broadcast his latest
conquest to the entire station.

"That's not what you said earlier," he said seductively.

"Yes it is," she snapped, taking her uniform out of her locker. "Only I
guess you weren't listening." She wondered briefly whether she should put
the uniform on over her dirty sports clothes, or if she should take off the
clothes first and then put the uniform on. In the first case, Dukat would
probably make fun of her and she would be most uncomfortable. And in the
second case, she would be undressing in front of Dukat, and who knew where
that would lead? She kicked off her training slippers and pulled her
trousers on over her shorts.

"You regret what we did," said Dukat.

Kira wasn't looking at him, so she couldn't see the expression on his face,
but his voice was unemotional, just stating the fact. His calm tone annoyed
her and she felt her temper flare up.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "You took advantage of me, Dukat."

His expression darkened. "We both know that's not true, Major. I didn't
force you to do anything. You should have seen yourself; no one would
believe you weren't asking for it."

"You bastard! You knew what condition I was in --"

Dukat sat up, hugging his knees as he glared up at her. "Oh, here we go," he
sneered. "The age-old excuse of the Bajoran woman. 'I was in season, I
didn't know what I was doing'. Spare me the tune, Major, I know it already."

"I'm sure you do. You must have heard it a lot during the Occupation," she
said, angrily doing up her tunic. "I suppose you got your underlings to keep
an eye out for girls who were on heat. Did that make you feel better when
you were raping them?"

He rolled his eyes, as if it were beneath him to answer her insult. "I
didn't rape you," he said simply.

"But how many Bajoran girls *did* you rape during the Occupation? How many
times did you take a girl from the mines that happened to be on heat?"

"We're not talking about the Occupation here, Major," he snapped, standing
up. "Just about you and me. I know you would like to convince yourself that
I raped you, but I didn't. You wanted me; you always have. We both know
that. For years now, you've been trying to resist it, making up excuses
about the past and about how much you dislike me. But the truth is that you
desire me. You can say you don't like me all you like, Major, but you do
*want* me."

The bastard was right, of course, but that was the last thing Kira wanted to
admit.

"I don't," she lied.

"I see. So you made love to me because your biological clock has turned you
into a nymphomaniac. Fair enough. I could get used to that," he said, moving
closer now he felt in control of the situation.

"Get away from me." Her request sounded more like a plea than an order;
something Dukat apparently didn't fail to notice. He grinned, though he
didn't come any nearer.

"You know I won't make you do anything you don't want, Major," he said
magnanimously.

She felt her face flush with anger. "You are such a bastard, Dukat."

He inclined his head as if to concede the point. "Think what you like,
Major, but I for one don't regret what we just did. It was an inevitable
side-effect of the fact we are now both living on the same station. There
was too much sexual tension between us; it had to come out somewhere. And
though I would have wished for a better setting, I certainly don't have any
regrets. I think this marks a new stage in our relationship; now that we
have admitted to our mutual desire, we can work together to strengthen the
bond between us and build a future where we will no longer be enemies, where
we can leave the past behind and become lovers as we were destined to be."

Kira had been trying to interrupt him during his speech, but only got the
opportunity to do so now. "I refuse to believe this has anything to do with
destiny, Dukat. At best, it was just lust, an unnatural act brought on by my
condition and your pheromones. But I can tell you one thing about our
future, Dukat --" She glared up at him with her most menacing scowl. "-- if
you ever come near me, I'll have a knife all ready to ensure you never,
ever, do it again. Understood?"

Dukat took in a slow breath as the implication of her menace struck him, but
then he smiled again. "Surely you would harm the one part of me you *like*,
Major."

Kira was strongly tempted to smack that smug grin off his smarmy face, but
instead she just pushed past him and made for the door.

"Major," he called after her, though she was relieved to find he didn't
follow her this time. "I had some important station business to discuss with
you..."