TITLE: To See A Fine Lady
AUTHOR: Kristin Johnson
SERIES: MU/Next Generation
CODES: Intendant/Picard, Picard/MU Garak, Picard/MU Bashir, MU Bashir/MU Garak
RATING: NC17Summary: The Intendant intends to teach proper Picard a lesson. But can Jean-Luc's famous charm soothe the Intendant?
NOTES: This falls after "Crossover" but before "Through the Looking Glass" in MU timeline. In Next Gen, not sure, probably after "Generations."
Everything except for original stuff like the Ellendi belongs to Viacom. If I wanted to try to make money off these characters, I'd make action figures.
Special Thanks: To Saklani, for daring me to try this.
* * *
ONE: Slave
"Ride a cock horse to Banbury cross
To see a fine lady upon a white horse
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
She shall have music wherever she goes."The inanity of the old nursery rhyme, repeating in his head, irritated Captain Jean-Luc Picard. Perhaps it was just a reaction to being chained and hung from the ceiling in the small cell that smelled of despair, feces and sweat. His chest was naked. His legs still felt warm in the tattered remnants of his uniform trousers. His captors apparently hadn't thought there was enough left of them to bother stripping him. The filth on the rags crept into the entry wounds where shuttle shrapnel had penetrated.
When his shuttle had passed through the Bajoran wormhole on the way back from a meeting so momentous he didn't know what to think, he hadn't expected his shuttle to nearly disintegrate around him. His sensors only registered a Bajoran fighter and a Galor-class warship before oblivion became not only visible around him, but a tangible sensation in every part of his body.
The next thing he knew, he was hallucinating, believing he was back in the cold room with Gul Madred. The cold clutch of the shackles felt mockingly familiar.
"There are four lights," he'd muttered, only to be slapped tauntingly by the Bajoran facing him. The Bajoran resembled someone he had seen on Bajor once during a diplomatic reception...Winn, yes. Kai Winn. But she wore no Kai's robe and consulted no orb. There was no serenity in her eyes.
"There are no lights for you, Terran." With a contemptuous laugh, she directed the Cardassian next to her as he tightened the clamps around Jean-Luc's wrists.
Jean-Luc had never seen Cardassians and Bajorans get along so well as these two. Nor had he ever known a Bajoran willing to employ Cardassian torture methods.
He tried to keep the composure he was known for as he struggled to understand. Perhaps Winn was far more sinister than she appeared. Perhaps this was some sort of power play...but why choose him?
But somehow, he knew there was another explanation.
He'd heard rumors...read reports...of another universe...a universe once visited by James Kirk and his officers, and a universe revisited by two officers from Deep Space Nine. As appalling as the possibility was, he knew no other universe that could possibly make Bajorans and Cardassians work together...including his own, although the late Vedek Bareil had orchestrated a remarkable peace treaty.
Here, no treaty was needed. The Cardassians and Bajorans were united in their loathing for humans.
He thanked Dieu that Madred was not here. No French lullaby, the kind he had sung to comfort himself while shackled in Madred's inner sanctum, could help him if this universe's Madred were given the task of torturing him.
No French lullaby. All he had was that nursery rhyme that repeated itself incessantly, without reason, in his head. Data had been asking him about nursery rhymes and riddles, and that particular poetry had stuck in his mind. It was diverting his attention from a cool, strategic appraisal of the situation. But he was a disciplined officer, and his mind soon obeyed his will.
Winn was gone. The Cardassian with her was gone. He must act now, and be prepared to overpower his captors. When he tried to break the shackles against the ceiling, he slit one of his wrists and the blood burned as if he'd thrust it into a Thirellian fire-ant colony.
He cried out, and turned his scream into the song:
"To see a fine lady upon a white horse Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes..."
He stopped as the door smugly clicked shut.
"Oh, don't stop."
The woman was Bajoran, and quite beautiful. He recognized her face from Federation briefings and newscasts about events on Deep Space Nine.
The marvelous camellia-white skin and feral brown eyes looked very different on this woman than they did on the former Bajoran freedom fighter Kira Nerys. The glossy, flamboyant red leather of her jacket and tunic was deceptively innocent, until he spotted the knife and phaser tucked in her belt. Her legs were slim, fit and muscled in tight black leggings. She wore some sort of diadem or circlet in her crimson hair. Her mouth twisted in a pouty grin, but he saw cruelty tucked inside the curve.
"I've never heard that song." She ran her hand down his naked chest. "You have a lovely voice. I haven't heard many Terran songs."
Jean-Luc kept silent. He allowed himself to look directly at her.
"You are a bold one." She smiled. "You also have more intelligence than most. You're from the other side, aren't you?"
He still didn't answer.
"I could force it out of you," she cooed. "I'd hate to do that. We don't have many with lovely singing voices."
"He sang quite beautifully when Damar and Winn had him." The next voice belonged to a male Cardassian, also somehow familiar and radiating the obsequiousness of the man behind the throne. "Such screams...perhaps he wore out his tongue."
"He'd better be unharmed," the Bajoran woman said, delicately. "I have uses for his tongue."
"I'm sure that you do, Intendant." The Cardassian smirked.
Intendant. Yes, that had been in the report from Sisko's officers. Intendant Kira Nerys.
She circled his chest with her fingers. "Winn does beautiful work. He seems properly subdued." She smiled in anticipation. "That will change. Have him brought to my quarters--and do something about his clothes. He has such beautiful legs."
Picard thought of trying to escape as the Cardassian unfastened the shackles. The Intendant was gone. Surely he could overpower even this sly, solidly muscled Cardassian.
"Another one for the Intendant, First Officer Garak?"
The voice made him freeze inside. Madred peered at him behind Garak's shoulder. For one of the rare moments times in his career, Jean-Luc Picard felt trapped by sheer terror.
Garak firmly escorted Jean-Luc away from Madred's gaze. "Yes. And from the other side, so it seems. He won't find escape so easy as the Intendant's twin and that doctor did. I assume you know them, Terran?"
Jean-Luc Picard muttered the lullaby as he was cleaned, dressed, and taken to the Intendant.
* * *
TWO: Intendant
Kira Nerys didn't notice the plush quarters, or the willing and beautiful bodyservants waiting in the recesses, behind the filmy curtains that surrounded her couch. She idly sipped sweet Bajoran spring wine and ignored the Terran-made delicacies sitting on the low inlaid table before her.
Her attention was entirely on the bald, very pale and entirely intriguing Terran standing before her.
She had already decided, quickly, that this was not a man to work in the ore processing facility. So, he wore a rich green embroidered tunic and trousers that came to mid-thigh.
He was from the other side, she knew. She saw the intelligence, the courage, the independence in his eyes. Of course, she had seen the same in her Sisko's eyes. She scowled inwardly.
How could he have left her? All she'd ever wanted was his loyalty. She actually believed she had it. That was why she'd given him a ship, and allowed him freedom of movement. He was also useful for keeping the other Terrans in line.
He'd left. She knew she had been too permissive. She had believed being reasonable would win Sisko's devotion. In time, perhaps she could be lenient to the other Terrans.
She would not risk that again. And she would not let this man before her leave. Already, her twin and the doctor had done irreparable harm. They'd killed Odo.
In return, this man would be hers until he died. A life for a life.
She had no idea how he'd come, but Garak and Professor Sisko--Ben's cold ex-wife--would find the secret of these incursions. Then, the other universe would be open to the Alliance. This man had come in one of the Starfleet shuttles, so he must be an officer.
She grinned at the man, drained her wine, and placed the glass on the table. A servant quickly materialized with the bottle.
"Give it to him," Nerys said, looking flirtatiously at Picard. "He looks thirsty."
The servant obeyed, and withdrew. The strange Terran hesitated before accepting the bottle. Nerys saw his uncertainty. Excellent. She gestured at her glass.
"Serve me first," she said softly.
He hated the directive. She saw his eyes. But he was graceful as he poured the wine. She gave him points for obeying quickly, particularly since she sensed he wasn't used to following orders. Not from a Bajoran, anyway.
She patted the couch next to her. He moved to take the glass as he seated himself at the opposite end. She was pleased with his show of initiative. He elegantly presented her with the glass. She drank slowly, savoring the wine more than the last glass. Then, she moved closer to him and placed the glass to his lips. Such full, lovely lips.
He drank slowly, reservedly. He must be thirsty, but he didn't want to show it. She smiled into his eyes as she drank from the other edge of the glass.
"Delicious," she said softly. "And so are you."
Now, he flinched. He didn't move, but she saw the affront in his eyes. There was a propriety in those eyes, too. This man was far too reserved.
She liked a challenge. She dipped her fingers in the wine and slowly caressed his mouth.
He didn't move. Those eyes spoke for him.
"You can talk, you know," she said, letting her fingers slip inside his mouth lightly. Soft. Such strong teeth and a determined jaw. Her exploration made him nervous, she could tell by his breathing.
"Oh, silly me," she murmured. "I haven't let you say one word, have I?"
When her fingers were gone, he still didn't speak. Nerys wasn't worried.
"I don't even know your name." She caressed his head. So smooth...so sexy. "You can tell me. I'm not going to hurt you...unless I have to."
That didn't even provoke a response.
"I can see I'm going to have to give you a name." She studied him curiously. "Those eyes of yours remind me of the deer in the mountains of Dahkur�wild, aloof�but with time and petting, they become tame enough to sleep by your side. We call them avan. From now on, your name is Avan."
"I'm Jean-Luc."
His voice could soar to the heavens. It was quiet, commanding, deep and defiant. There was no question. He was from the other side, and he was some sort of leader there. She had no doubt. He was like no other man she'd met. Even her twin's beautiful doctor friend was not like this man.
But eventually, all men bowed to her. The more commanding they were, the more deeply they bowed. Just look at Garak.
"Are you from the other side?"
"Do you think I am?"
"I know you are. No one here would answer me that way." She tilted her head. "What are you there?"
"I'm an explorer. An archaeologist. A wanderer."
She suppressed her laughter at the way he thought he could deceive her. He would tell her everything before long, and he would look at her in adoration, and he would want to serve her with all of him. He would help her bring order to the Alliance, and the other universe.
"Jean-Luc." She twisted her mouth in her pouty grin. "I prefer Avan for you. So Avan you are from now on...unless you're ready to tell me more? No? I thought not."
She slid her hands under his tunic and pressed her lips against his ear. "Your name is Avan...and...you're...mine."
* * *
THREE: Avan
Jean-Luc had difficulty remembering the next morning as he woke up smothered in thick blankets. For an absurd moment, he actually thought he was someone named Avan...and that he belonged here.
Except that "Ride a cock horse" still taunted his brain, and he felt the beating of the artificial heart in his chest that proclaimed him Jean-Luc Picard.
The ache of his chest and the laxness of his limbs also belonged to him. It also belonged to the Intendant, who left only the impression of her sinuous body in the bed, and on his body as well.
Jean-Luc winced as he fought his way out of the luxurious trappings--absurd, really, a grown man wrapped in blankets like a doll. A grown man, dandled on the Intendant's knee and fed sweets. A mature man, choking on his pleasure and his pride as the Intendant kissed his skin, and let him feel the warmth of hers.
And she'd left him, alone in this bed, making the point that he now belonged to her and had no control over his destiny.
Meanwhile, the other human slaves quietly cleaned her quarters this morning. They didn't look at him.
The sooner he escaped this universe, the better.
He considered going naked when he saw an opalescent, opaque, but still too damn revealing, bodysuit laid out for him. The woman made Lwaxana Troi look like a dowdy spinster.
"Intendant?"
That was Garak's voice. Jean-Luc dressed quickly. If he couldn't have dignity in his clothes, he would have dignity in his bearing. He emerged from the bed and cautiously moved past the gauzy curtains the Intendant favored.
Garak appeared surprised to see him. "Well, human, I thought you would still be in bed after the smile on the Intendant's face this morning. You must be exhausted."
Jean-Luc had the opportunity to study him closely. He knew the name was familiar, and now he recognized the man...a tailor on Deep Space Nine. There were rumors about his involvement with the mysterious Obsidian Order...
Those blue eyes reminded Jean-Luc of the murky, eerie blue light in Madred's quarters, and he felt, absurdly, that Madred and the other Garak were linked...perhaps that was just because he'd seen this Garak with this universe's Madred.
"Nothing to say?" Garak smiled knowingly. "The sign of an intelligent Terran. So much the better. The Intendant loves a challenge."
"What do you want with me?"
Garak raised his eyeridges at the authority Jean-Luc couldn't mask. "I don't like your tone, Terran. Whoever you are on the other side, you're now just the latest fashion for the Intendant." He circled Jean-Luc, appraising him. "On the other hand, if you were someone, we might be able to expand our horizons...or at least, prevent your universe from invading ours."
"I'm no one. I belong to the Intendant."
The words were only a defense mechanism, but in saying them, he felt part of his soul shrivel. Garak's expression only confirmed his sense of defeat.
"I have no doubt that you will bring her much pleasure." Garak was exceptionally solicitous. "I came simply to welcome you to your new life, Terran. Ordinarily, I might take on the job of training you to serve your mistress, as we all do with our lives. But it seems she has you well in hand already. Good day."
Garak only paused at the door to nonchalantly say, "Please tell your mistress that I invite her to dine tomorrow evening. Of course, you will accompany her. She hates to be separated from her pets."
Jean-Luc, left alone, ate the remaining food from the last night, not out of hunger, but out of a desperate determination. He needed to think. He needed a clear mind. Last night's intimacy had left him with barely enough energy to pull the blankets around him as he shivered.
He would find an escape. If Intendant Kira Nerys was pleased with him, if she indulged him...and if he indulged her in everything...he might escape. More importantly, he would bring intelligence on this universe to Starfleet Command. When he got out, he would go to Deep Space Nine and consult with Dr. Bashir and Major Kira.
Once, he had faced being a woman's plaything when the con-artist Ardra had tried to make him part of her inheritance of Ventax II. She would no doubt delight in the irony of the situation--he was now willing to wait on the Intendant's pleasure.
If he were honest with himself, he needed to acknowledge that he had cried out and shuddered as she sensuously toyed with him before insisting on her own fulfillment...and the more aggressive she became, his own darker urges overtook him even as the feeling consumed his body.
He had to acknowledge it, or he would be enslaved. He had to know what he was fighting.
It was loneliness, the need to be touched. It was the baseness of the flesh that everyone was heir to. And it could be subdued by his will.
It would be so.
Jean-Luc wished for his usual breakfast with Beverly, even as the moba fruit left an indelible sweetness on his tongue.
* * *
FOUR: Jean-Luc
"Captain Jean-Luc Picard."
Nerys clenched her fist in victory as Garak confirmed that her Terran had told the truth...and that she had been right about him. He was a leader.
His shuttle was damaged, but salvageable. At the main console inside the shuttle, Professor Sisko expertly recovered the data from the partially damaged computer. Garak made the report concisely. He had gotten to the shuttle long before the Intendant--no surprise, since while Garak and Jennifer Sisko were working on the shuttle, the Intendant was fighting the urge to make her human surrender to her. Completely this time. She amused herself instead by watching him as he slept. He was stiff and proper even while asleep. He held his limbs tightly to his body.
"His sensors have recorded a map of his journey. He was in his universe's Gamma Quadrant."
"What was his mission?"
Jennifer Sisko spoke reservedly. "I have his log entry now. That will answer your question."
So beautiful, Nerys thought, such delectable skin and eyes, so intelligent...and dead inside. What a waste.
"Play back," Nerys said crisply.
Instantly, her Avan's marvelous voice echoed in the metal cavern.
"Personal log, stardate 5444.7. I have been invited by the Bajoran government to participate in a meeting between Bajor and the Ellendi, of the Gamma Quadrant.
The Enterprise must attend to an emergency evacuation of Darras Four, but will be awaiting me at Deep Space Nine when I return.
Ordinarily, the duty of attending this meeting would fall to Commander Benjamin Sisko. However, the meeting was occasioned by the discovery of an Ellendi artifact that seems to have significance in Bajoran, Ellendi and several other cultures, including Vulcan and Betazoid. The artifact is now the source of a possible dispute, as the Ellendi fear that somehow these developments will anger the Dominion, and thus they are resisting efforts to examine what may be a significant find. Starfleet has sent me on account of my credentials as a mediator and an archaeologist. Commander Sisko is well-versed in Bajoran legend, but admits archaeology is not his field. However, the Defiant will be present, since we can benefit from Commander Sisko's past experience with the Dominion.
"Commander Sisko's senior staff have noted that this artifact may be a ploy by the Dominion, whose capabilities and motives we do not yet know.
"Fortunately, the Ellendi and the Bajorans have agreed that part of this meeting will take place on Deep Space Nine. That may allow us to defend against a possible attack. Representatives from Starfleet, Bajor, Vulcan and Betazed will be present.
"While I remain wary of this meeting and of the ramifications, I also welcome the opportunity to make a significant scientific contribution, and to study a culture few have encountered. It is a rare thing to immerse myself in archaeology. Since the discovery of the Preservers' message, my interest has grown stronger. After Robert and Henri perished, and after the destruction of the Enterprise, I had little interest in my private passions. But one cannot delay them indefinitely. I will not allow my enthusiasm to overshadow my primary concerns in this matter..."
Nerys signaled for Jennifer to end the playback. While her cunning mind analyzed the tactical and practical advantages of the information, she savored the sound of Jean-Luc in his full commanding persona. He was important. He was brilliant. He could be useful to her.
But he had a tendency towards arrogance, and pomposity. She would play to that if she had to, but she would also take him down a peg.
The best way to do that was to turn this reserved, pleasure-resistant officer into a pampered sensualist, and still retain enough of the dutiful officer to help her accomplish her aims.
First, though, she would simply have fun with him. Poor Jean-Luc. It sounded as if he had little enjoyment on the other side. He permitted himself scholarly pursuits, but little else.
That would change. But first...business.
Nerys rested a hand on Jennifer's arm. The body beneath the stylish but demure clothes was surprisingly warm.
"Find out how he came here, and create a way for us to duplicate it at our will."
"Should I complete this after the trans-spectral sensor array?"
Nerys didn't miss a beat. She wanted both. "You can handle them both at once. You're a clever woman." She made her exit, calling out gaily, "I think I'll have to have another talk with Captain Jean-Luc Picard. I'll be in my quarters, and I don't want to be disturbed!"
* * *
FIVE: Proposition
When the Intendant entered, Jean-Luc was pretending to study an ancient Bajoran text. He would have liked to read a more recent history of Bajor, but the Intendant apparently kept all of her books and PADDs locked away.
The computer failed to respond to his commands, nor did he know the necessary decryption protocols to access the information. And it had prompted him for the Intendant's security clearance more than once.
So now, he sat patiently, trying to appear relaxed. He looked up as she entered, laid aside his book, and knelt by the couch.
She beamed approvingly. "You learn quickly. And you obviously missed me."
She gave him no chance to think, but pulled him to his feet--she was fit and athletic and strong. Her kiss was not wholly unexpected.
Her bite, however, was. She laughed and sensuously licked the blood from his lip. He remained quiet.
"To think of you being alone when you woke up," she whispered. "Wondering why I'd left. I had business. And you're an intelligent man. You would find some way to amuse yourself."
She glanced at the ancient text beside him. "You are a man of many interests."
"I'm an archaeologist," Jean-Luc said. "I'm interested in old things."
She coyly glanced at him. "I hope that wasn't a hint that I look old."
"I would never say such a thing."
"Yes, I know. So proper, so careful not to offend...but I know what you're really thinking." She picked up the book and idly scanned it as she put it back. "Imagine. To think our people once wanted to wait for an Emissary to bring peace to our planet. We have all the peace we need. We have power."
She turned, and saw Jean-Luc, silent again. Her face hardened, but looked beautiful, and betrayed.
"I can only imagine what they've been telling you." Her voice was weary, resigned. "Kira...Bashir...they didn't understand. Even Kira. She wanted a strong Bajor. I've got it. She'll tell you I am cruel to the Terrans. The way I see it, there's little difference in her arrangement. The Terrans help guard her world, just as the Alliance guards Bajor. And Bajor is more than ready to help the Alliance bring order to this universe.
"I've tried to make the Cardassians and the Klingons understand. The Terrans are in our care. They had their chance to rule with us. But they're simply too peaceful and trusting to be left on their own. Until, that is, they start attacking us out of misguided hatred."
She gestured for him to pour her a glass of spring wine. Although it was early, Jean-Luc didn't disobey. She accepted it with a watchful look.
"I want the Terrans to be treated well. I think of their welfare. They can accept their fate and be happy. But when they protest, when they refuse to work, when they behave like animals, they undermine my efforts. The Klingons and Cardassians want to exterminate them. I have to discipline them for their own good. To save them. But I try to be lenient. And they repay me by hating me."
Jean-Luc remained still, horrified and fascinated at her arguments, her justifications. He was hearing the same rhetoric the Cardassians had used to justify forcing the Bajorans to help deprive their world of its natural resources, and destroy its rich culture.
She came to him and took his face in her hands. Her eyes would not let his alone. In her own way, she seemed sincere, and despite himself, he felt strangely compelled by her logic.
"You have to believe me," she said huskily. "I am a friend to the Terrans. Why else would I keep you instead of sending you to labor processing ore?"
Why else, indeed.
The Intendant looked at him for a long moment, assessing his silence. Then, she sighed and made a gesture. A Cardassian and a Bajoran guard came and took him from her grasp.
"I think it's time I showed you the reality of life here." Her voice was gentle, but her eyes showed a fire and drive that made him afraid for his soul.
"Mr. Garak asked me to convey his wish that you dine with him." Jean-Luc wondered if she would punish him for withholding that. "He has generously permitted me to accompany you."
She didn't seem bothered. "I know." She caressed his head with a lover's touch, but one meant to assert her control. "He knows I could never, ever leave you pining for me. We'll be back in plenty of time."
"If I may, where are we going?"
The Intendant's smile was as full of glee as a child's, and held the mystery of the seductress.
"It's a surprise, Avan. So behave yourself, and enjoy yourself. I certainly intend to."
She nodded at the guards, who once again marched him along, this time into the unknown.
Well, he was not an explorer for nothing. Jean-Luc steeled himself, and tried to forget that he had always disliked surprises.
* * *
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