From fitchett@netaccess.co.nz Thu Jan 21 20:29:58 1999
Title: Playtime
Author: Zeborah
Series: DS9
Rating: PG
Codes: NR, parody
Summary: Kira's gonna find her a man... or two...
Disclaimer: They own the characters, I disown this story.
Author's note: I've been away from fanfic for a while, but my sister
Sasscat just made a comment that attacked my brain and made me write
this... Don't know when it's set. Quite possibly it makes no sense
in terms of chronology, but that's it's own bad luck. Tankee, Sasscat!
Playtime
(c) 1999 Zeborah
Kira took two steps into the room and stopped; not because she was at
all surprised at what she saw -- it was, after all, just another, yet
another diplomatic function -- but rather to make sure she knew what
she was getting into. And, she had to admit, because Dukat would be
there and she wanted him to notice her. She had denied her lust for
him for too long, and now the frustration was too much for her.
So what if he was her deadly enemy? Captain Sisko had slept with a
Maquis. Odo -- in her mind she spat out the name -- had slept with
a Founder.
So what if he'd slept with her mother? That Starfleet captain who'd
come through here before her ship had disappeared -- Janeway, Kira
thought the name might be -- according to rumour she'd slept with a
certain admiral; and according to other rumours there was more than
one reason for having gotten a certain admiral's son out of jail.
And who cared if he was butt-ugly, slimy and bumpy like the algae-
covered mudflats of Jenerra at low tide? Well, technically Kira cared,
but there wasn't much she could do about it; and besides, having sex
with an ugly man couldn't be all bad. Jadzia Dax seemed to have
enjoyed it enough to get married to one. At least Dukat could hold a
decent conversation.
So Kira strutted into the diplomatic function, hips swinging, eyes
searching the crowd for Dukat so she could all the more easily pretend
to rebuff him. That should be enough to start him off on his little
fantasies, she thought, and from then on things would only get easier.
There proved to be one minor little problem, however; Dukat wasn't
anywhere in sight. She scowled briefly and searched the room more
thoroughly, pushing past waiters and diplomats as she moved from door
to door, from corner to corner, and from inch to inch.
He wasn't there.
He had the audacity to miss the single function where Kira Nerys, the
most desirable Bajoran on the station, the Bajoran he'd been flirting
with for the last Prophets knew how many years, had decided to succumb
to his temptations!
Gul Dukat was a dead man.
Then she modified that thought. She had other things to do to him
before she killed him. Other, more interesting things. They involved
her taking her clothes off, or at the very least loosening her belt a
little.
As soon as she could find him.
Then she caught a glimpse of Sisko, and quickly pressed her way
through the crowd. "Captain, have you seen Dukat? I... don't like
him getting out of my sight."
"I think he left the room just before you arrived, Major," Sisko said,
and nodded at one of the doors.
Kira nodded back tersely and wheeled around to that direction as Sisko
called after her, "You haven't seen Quark, have you? We've run out of
hors d'oeuvres."
"No, sir," she called over her shoulder, and kept going. Someone else
could look after that little toad; she didn't even want to think about
what sort of things he might be getting up to during a function of
this magnitude.
She found out soon enough, unfortunately; but fortunately she found
out just *before* she rounded the corner to where he was getting up to
it. It was the giggle that alerted her, echoing as it did through the
corridors. "Ooh, that tickles!" a familiar voice said.
Oh Prophets. The toad had found a toadess to play with. Just what
she needed to brighten her day. No matter how much she tried to
banish that particular image it insisted on flooding through her mind
like the dam she'd once helped sabotage.
How was she supposed to find Dukat now, without tripping over a couple
of amorous Ferengi?
Alas, it wasn't long before that question, too, was answered, as a
lower, equally familiar voice replied, "Does it, Quark? Well, then,
perhaps I should... desist..."
"No, no, tickle me, Elmo!" Quark exclaimed.
Oh Prophets.
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