"Sur le pont d'Avignon ...." Picard kept chanting to himself, lost in nostalgic memories of when he used to live in LaBarre. Beautiful sunlit water; the stream that flowed behind their vignyard just outside the rolling grapevines that always seemed to little Picard as though they covered the whole planet.

"On y danse, on y danse ..." And then his mother would call him from the cottage, yell in fact when little Picard was far out, hiding among the green foliage.

"Sur le pont d'Avignon ..." On those really sunny days she would prepare some home-made ice cream, snubbed by his father though wild Tarkelian beasts wouldn't have dragged little Picard away from an icy bowl of fresh vanilla cream.

"On y danse tous en rond ..."

"Off to France again?" Harsh reality; the whisper of death in his ear. Picard blinked open his eyes, again blinded by the four spots shining in his eyes and returning him to reality. He shook his head to ward off the pleasant memories and focused on the evil face staring down at him. Such a cold face. Picard had all the trouble in the world picturing a tender smile gracing those cruel lips. The only smiles Picard had seen up to date were sneers, smirks and snarls.

"One of few places you cannot reach me," Picard rasped, too exhausted to get up.

Gul Madred chuckled; an evil little chuckle that mocked and derided the Human at his feet. "I was like you once, believe it or not. So sure of my own invincibility. So sure I would never be reached. But know this; there are methods in existence that would cut to the inner mind of any mortal, never mind their abilities." He stared a few minutes more at the man, then turned on his heel to reach his desk, creaking leather playing in every step. "I once interrogated a Vulcan," he said conversationally, his elegant accent wafting through the room and chilling everything in its path. "One of my most ... invigorating experience," he whispered, the evident arousal in his voice sickening Picard. "Like you, he was so certain I would never reach him; would never cut through his precious mental barriers," he sneered with a low laugh. "A shame the session killed him in the end though. I would have kept him around just for entertainment's sake."

Picard thought it wise not to respond. Instead, he struggled to his feet, the spectacle drawing another chuckle from his tormentor. "I do admire your courage and determination," the Cardassian praised. "So few Humans survive the first few days. Now then," he smiled, waving at the seat opposite his desk. "Shall we begin?"

Dragging himself on his feet, Picard slithered up to his assigned chair, knowing the beautiful woman that was his friend and so much more would suffer the same consequences would he refuse. He let himself drop in the chair and exhaled, preparing his mind for the assaults that would soon follow. Four lights, you see four lights Johnny. Never give the bloody bastard the satisfaction.

Across from him, Madred deposited the insidious remote control and folded his hands primly across the desk. "Now then. I will ask you again the correct number of lights you see; but today the price of your misperceptions might be slightly more expensive." He stood and slowly circled the desk, his stance that of a feline with every claw at the ready. "If there is one thing I have learnt in my profession, is that Human loathe abuse of their most ... private identity. Allow me to explain," he hissed, kneeling beside Picard and speaking across his ear. "Tell me how many lights you see, the correct amount, and perhaps I shall retain myself from taking the last shred of dignity you have left. Tell me Human, how many lights do you see?"

His chest rising and falling slowly, Picard opened his eyes and stared at the lights. "My last shred of dignity. No matter what you do to my body Madred, you'll never get the satisfaction of hearing what you most want me to say. That is my last shred of dignity." He turned to face his tormentor, face sullen as he stared back at the glassy eyes. "There are four lights," he said calmly.

Gul Garak scowled at the report, waving it wildly at the Glin in charge of processing. "Who authorised these orders?" he bawled. "Didn't these incompetents know they cannot keep a Human under the Selanas Convention?"

"The Selanas Convention applies to prisoner of wa--"

"I know what the Convention means," Garak snapped, the look he threw to the younger Cardassian enough to kill him on the spot. "I don't like complications," he muttered. "Keeping a Human here would only arise problems. The Federation are unlike us; they would wrestle a Denebian Razor beast to the death if it meant saving one of their kind. Personally, I do not want to have to deal with petty infiltration units trying to weasel themselves into the Order!" He sighed and recollected his composure. "Where is he being held now?"

"Gul Madred's office. He has been under interrogation for three days now."

"Get Lemek on-line," ordered Garak. "Ask him how the invasion fleet is faring at Minos Korva. I will go have a little talk with Madred," he sneered, marching out of his office.

When Garak walked into Madred's office, the sight which greeted him would have been shocking to anyone without Garak's experience. Madred was kneeling behind the Human, hiking the flimsy bath robe he'd been given. The Human himself was distant, his eyes elsewhere as Madred prepared him for a much dreadful fate. Garak stepped over his surprise and bawled, "What are you doing?"

Barely acknowledging the other Cardassian, Madred curled his lips. "Teaching this Human a lesson."

Garak stepped out and gestured to the guards to follow him. "Get him out of here," he commanded, pointing at the prisoner. Flustered, Madred watched as his prize was dragged out of his office.

"You fool," he hissed. "Why did you interrupt me? I had him!"

Garak growled and stalked the distance separating them and yanked the older Cardassian to his feet. "You do not rape prisoners Madred. That is the only regulation the Order has and I would thank you to follow it!"

"And I suppose you've never broken that rule yourself," he grinned.

"That is not the point," he growled, shaking the man. "He is a Starfleet captain, not some Bajoran unknown. You risk war with them at a time we need not a war."

"Nonetheless, the Human needed a lesson," Madred whispered. Garak stared a few moments more at the icy depths of Madred's eyes before dragging him sideways and pushing him against the wall, face first.

"I think the one who needs a lesson here is you," Garak whispered. "Humans have a delightful idiom: 'an eye for an eye ... I forget the rest. Still, I think these whims of yours have to be tamed."

Madred smiled against the cold metal wall. "Looking for a new toy now that Tain has demoted you to one?"

The drop that overflowed the glass. Garak pushed against him, pressing his entire body on the man under his clutches. "What Tain and I do on our own time is our business. What you and I are about to do is a little schooling." He flung the Cardassian backward, and turned to watch as Madred skidded on the floor. "Education and courtesy are the most important traits in a good interrogator. And while I'm very pleased at your manners, your education tends to require a bit of attention." He knelt beside Madred's prone form and smiled. "Come here my pet," he purred, his hand grasping the Cardassian's wrist with a steel grip. Palming a remote control on Madred's desk, he dragged the interrogator to the overhead cuffs and snatched the handcuffs from the contraption. Snapping them firmly around the man's wrists, he smiled. "Who knows? You might even enjoy yourself," he informed seductively, reaching up and clasping the cuffs to the metal rafters. He triggered the remote, and watched as Madred's arms stretched tautly.

"Tain will hear of this," Madred growled, struggling against his bounds.

Garak laughed in his back. "If you tell him, he might want to share in our game." He bent down and pulled dryly at Madred's tight fitted trousers, revealing strong muscled thighs and a smooth reptilian hide just begging for a flogging. Garak chased away the thought and undid his own pants. "How do you enjoy the humiliation?" he hissed, pressing tightly against Madred's ass.

"As much as you enjoy yours while Tain whips you orgasm, I'm sure," he sneered, his smile disappearing behind a grunt as Garak's fist brutally connected with the small of his back. "Fucking me won't release the frustration," he whispered huskily. "He'll only bruise you more once I tell him of this." His eyes lit up lewdly. "Unless of course that's what you want."

There was a pause, footfalls, then the dry cracking of a lash. It took Madred a few seconds, and the stinging heat on his ass, to realise that Garak had used a whip. He closed his eyes and smiled. "Do you seriously see the logic in this my friend? You are punishing me for what exactly? For interrogating a human?"

The whip came down again. "No," came the steely reply. "I'm doing it because you're not me."

Madred blinked, glancing over his shoulder in real confusion. "Excuse me?"

Another lash, and he cried out. "You're not me. No one in this fucking Order is in my place, suffering what I'm going through." Another brutal lash. "What Tain makes me go through. Everyone should have the same honour," he hissed, growling and releasing his fury in three blows of quick succession. Madred slumped against his bonds, exhaling loudly.

"No one asks to be the protege of Gul Tain," he quipped. "You are beautiful," he said, growling as he felt the sting of another blow. "Sensual; you have all the qualities he looks for in a pupil."

Garak paused, panting. He didn't have to glance downward to discover he had a straining erection. He hated himself for it. The whip dropped to the floor, and he moved to release Madred. "What? Not even a fuck?" he laughed, slouching with pain as he tugged his pants back on.

"Don't push my limits," Garak growled, throwing the control on the desk.

"Oh that's what I intend," Madred hissed, and swiftly captured Garak in a neck hold in mere seconds. Garak struggled remarkably well, but could do nothing against the steel grip over his neck. "You think you hold all the power in here because he owns you? You are nothing," he growled, and Garak winced with pain. "To his eyes, you are a toy. I'm surprised he hasn't discarded you yet."

Madred laughed silently, his free hand moving down the tight trousers where the straining erection pushed against the fabric. "But Tain isn't the only one to own you Garak. We all do here. Everyone owns everyone else. There is no limits, no rules when it concerns each other." His hand reached into the trousers, wrapping tightly over the scalding cock. Garak cried out, bucking in Madred's arms. "It would have been a nice fuck," he whispered, "if you'd had the courage to follow through with it. I was yours Garak. Nothing would have stopped you. And when you did, that made you weak." His hand clawed into the steely sex, scraping the leathery skin raw and making Garak whimper in involuntary desire. "And the Order is no place for weak officers, my boy." He smiled against his ear and began pumping steadily. Garak writhed in his arms, his knees turning to water as the Cardassian's ministration intensified. And just when he was there, Madred pushed him back beneath the rafters and quickly cuffed his wrists. Garak growled, bucked his hips and swore agonising death to Madred.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to his fingers and brushing them over Garak's lips. "Have a good night Garak. I'll go seek the human and finish my interrogation."

Still raging and raving, Garak begged to be released - in both sense of the word. Madred chuckled at the exit and smiled, blinking demurely. "And oh yes," he whispered seductively. "I'll inform Tain of your location. I'm sure he'll be only to pleased to release you."

His wispy laugh vanished as the doors closed, leaving Garak hanging with a painful erection, and a dreadful fate.

The End