Another week passed. Things were going rather smoothly as far as the running of the station went.
Garak sent Dukat to Bajor to buy slaves to replenish their workforce. There were a suspicious number of pretty girls in the crop he selected, but overall he'd done an adequate job. Garak had another stroke of good fortune when several of the most antagonistic Bajoran overseers were indited in the Intendant's crimes. They were recalled to Bajor to await trial; their replacements had no reason to resent Garak and had no bad habits to break. He was very pleased with the way things were falling into place.

The situation with Julian, however, was not going as well. He knew he should stop asking for Julian's favors; perhaps then, after some time, he'd be able to salvage something out of the whole mess. Every day, he swore to himself that he wouldn't touch him. And every day, he would break that promise. Every part of Julian filled him with desire – his fingers, which so gently tended to his patients injuries; his lips, puckered as he blew on a cup of hot tea; the small of his back, exposed as he reached up for a piece of equipment on a high shelf. It would only take one fleeting glance and suddenly he was overwhelmed, helpless in the face of his monstrous desire. He took Julian every chance he could: in his own office, in Julian's infirmary, in a deserted corridor, in the turbolift, and of course, in their quarters – on the bed, on the floor, against the dining table, in the shower – anywhere, everywhere, whenever he could.

Garak knew that everyone else on the station noticed what was going on. No one said anything directly to him, but he occasionally heard whispers about how the strange Terran doctor held Garak in his thrall. He tried to ignore them. He didn't really care what anyone thought, as long as they continued to obey him.

Julian, for his part, did not shirk from his promise; he met Garak's requests with vigor, if not enthusiasm. When he was pleasuring Garak with his hands or his mouth, Julian made it easy for Garak to pretend that he wanted this as well. Julian had found clothes that fit him, much to Garak's disappointment, but he always made sure that his shirts could be unbuttoned or pulled aside to expose his long, lovely neck. He knew exactly how Garak liked to be touched, and he always knew just when to let out a breathy moan, or meet Garak's gaze with a heavy-lidded look, or swirl his tongue, or flick his thumb over the tip of his cock – whatever it took to send Garak over the edge, his orgasm so hard that he was left weak in the knees.

Intercourse, however, was a problem. There was no getting around how obvious it was that Julian didn't want to be with him. He could sometimes manage an erection, as long as he had a few drinks and was given time to work on himself, but after their first time together, he never came. Even so, Garak didn't stop asking for it. He couldn't – there was nothing compared to being inside Julian, holding his body so close as came. But the moment Garak had his orgasm, he was confronted with how artificial it all was. Julian did not want him – he would never want him. Garak wasn't a fool – he knew that this was what he had agreed to. It still made his heart ache. The more they were together physically, the further Julian seemed from him. He'd lie in bed with his arms wrapped around Julian and still feel utterly alone.

In order to keep his sorrow at bay, he followed Julian's example of keeping busy. Although he'd have a hard time working as much as Julian did; it seemed to be his mission to make every last Terran the picture of health. When he wasn't conducting health assessments, he worked on developing treatments to better serve the needs of his patients. He synthesized new drugs, worked on nutritional supplements, made design changes to some of the ore-processing equipment to minimize injuries – anything he could think of to save his patients.

Any spare time he had he spent walking the processing center with his medical kit in hand, attending to the injured Terrans he found. This was not popular with the overseers; Odo especially hated it, complaining loudly and often that it was impacting production and compromising his authority. He was a problem that Garak was going to have to deal with eventually, but he was having trouble thinking of a way to safely get rid of him.

His hand, however, was soon forced. One afternoon, Dukat came to his office, looking more nervous than usual. "Sir – there's a disturbance in the processing center that might require your intervention," he said.

"What kind of disturbance?"

"It's Odo. He and Julian are having a...disagreement over his treatment of one of the slaves."

Garak swore as he rose from his desk and headed for the door. "Take me to them at once."

Dukat led him to the main floor of the processing center. Julian was standing protectively over a Terran woman, who was lying in a heap on the floor. She seemed barely conscious. Odo was brandishing a whip – he looked as if he were ready to strike.

"Stop!" Garak roared as he and Dukat made their way over to them. "What is the meaning of this?"

"This Terran woman is refusing to work," Odo said. "And this one is interfering with her punishment!"

"Anna is not refusing to work – she's exhausted!" Julian shot back. "She's not used to this kind of labor."

She was a rather delicate looking creature – thin and pale, with a mane of red hair that was probably very beautiful when it wasn't in tangles. "One of your new purchases, I presume," Garak muttered to Dukat. Dukat responded with a helpless shrug.

Garak returned his attention to Odo. "You know the new guidelines. I will not have you damaging her."

"Oh, so I suppose I should just ask all the Terrans nicely if they feel like working. Or better yet, perhaps I should do the work for them when they refuse!"

"She has worked as hard as she can for the past twelve hours," Julian said. Just then, the girl moaned. Julian dropped to his knees and lifted her up to a sitting position. She blinked her blue eyes in confusion. Julian said a few soothing words to her as he did a quick overview of her injuries – her arm looked as if it might be broken. He turned his attention back to Odo, his eyes burning with fury. "She's badly injured. She's worked enough for today - you can't ask any more of her."

"Do you see his insolence?" Odo said to Garak. "He dares to tell me what I can and cannot do!"

"He's a doctor," Garak said as evenly as he could manage. "He is not giving you orders any more than when a Terran informs you that a piece of equipment is malfunctioning. If he says that she's had enough, you should listen to him. I just purchased forty new slaves – you don't need this one in particular, I'm sure."

"Forty new slaves who will never be properly trained!" Odo said. "I've worked with Terrans for years – they are naturally lazy creatures. They will not work without the threat of the whip."

"Lazy?" Julian said. "They're working sixteen hours a day on minimal nutrition, and they still get your damned ore processed. And while I'm sure your arm must get awfully tired from all the beatings you administer, these 'lazy Terrans' still do more work in a single day than you do in a month!"

Garak sucked in a breath. The situation had been salvageable up until Julian's outburst. Everyone on the floor was watching them – the Terrans, the overseers, even Telok and his coterie of Klingons. Garak could not let it seem like his authority was being compromised.

He hit Julian in the face with the back of his hand. The blow was hard enough to send him reeling; he was already on the floor, but he fell backward and to the side, just barely catching himself with his hands. Garak moved to stand directly over him, hoping that he'd have the sense to stay down. Julian looked up at him with wide eyes. He seemed truly shocked that Garak had hit him.

"You do not speak to your superiors in such a way," Garak said to him. "Apologize to Odo."

Julian just sat there on the ground for a long moment, holding a hand to his face where Garak had hit him. His lip had started to bleed a little. Garak was worried he would have to hit him again, but finally Julian spoke. "I'm sorry," he said flatly, keeping his eyes trained on the floor.

"Say it respectfully," Garak said.

Julian's jaw clenched. "I'm sorry, sir," he said.

"You won't give Odo any more trouble, will you?"

Julian shook his head. Garak turned to Odo. "I think Julian has learned his lesson. I'm sure he will behave from now on."

He had hoped that would satisfy Odo, but it did not. "Am I to run to you every time I need to discipline a slave, like a child tattling to his father?" he said. "The Intendant would never have stood for this!"

"The Intendant is no longer here," Garak said. "I am in charge now."

"Oh yes," Odo said with a gleam in his beady little eyes. "Yes, you are. That's what you've wanted for years, isn't it? How convenient for you that Sisko killed her, leaving nothing in your way to seize control."

All eyes were still on them. The only sounds came from the hum of the equipment. Garak felt a brief surge of fury, but then a cold calm settled over him, the way it had the morning he murdered the Intendant.

"You are nothing more than a usurper," Odo continued. "They may not want to listen to me, but I know the truth. You are a disgrace! And now you're letting this Terran slut lead you around by your cock – "

Garak pulled out his phaser and shot him. He exploded; slimy chunks of his body flew in every direction. Garak, Julian, Dukat and the Terran woman caught the worst of it – each of them ended up covered in Odo's oozy remains. The whole floor erupted into chaos, with people screaming and retching and running in every direction. The Terran woman who had started this whole mess was in hysterics. Julian had immediately gone to her side, wiping the goo off of both of them as he attempted to calm her down.

The new Bajoran overseers were worthless, panicking as much as the Terrans. It was the Klingons who restored order; Garak had to grudgingly admit that Telok might be worth something after all. Dukat was surprisingly useful as well, countering the Klingon's show of force with reassurances that everything was under control. Garak wiped the larger chunks off of his armor and skin as the Terrans were brought back to order.

When the screaming had stopped and the Terrans were corralled back onto the floor, Garak addressed the room. "Is there anyone else who would like to question my authority?" he said, his voice booming. "Anyone?" He spotted an unsteady Bajoran overseer – one of the few of the ones left over from the Intendant's reign. "You – perhaps you have some concerns about the way I run things?"

"No, sir," he stammered.

"How about you?" he said, rounding his attention on another unfortunate Bajoran. "Do you agree with Odo's assessment that I'm being 'led around by my cock?'"

"No, sir!"

"I will not be questioned!" Garak shouted to the room at large. "My orders will be obeyed! And anyone who dares to defy me will pay the price!" He addressed one of the overseers. "Get this mess cleaned up," he snarled. He was gratified to see them all scramble to carry out his command.

By the time Garak turned back to him, Julian had helped the Terran woman to her feet and was starting to lead her away. Garak grabbed him by the arm. "Where do you think you're going?"

"She's wounded," he said. "I need to treat her."

Dukat appeared at their side. "I would be happy to escort Anna to the infirmary," he said, putting a hand on her uninjured arm. "Dr. Neetris can attend to her, I'm sure."

Garak nodded his assent. Dukat led Anna off, reassuring her in a gentle voice. Garak hauled Julian away. He kept his arm in a firm grip the entire way back to their quarters and into their washroom. "Clean up," he said, shoving Julian towards the shower. Julian turned on the water and disrobed, climbing in under the spray. While Julian washed up in the shower, Garak cleaned himself in the sink – while he had removed the larger bits of goo, there was still a slimy residue left over. He changed his outfit and selected another for Julian, which he handed to him when he emerged from the shower. For once, Julian's body did not entice him; his injured face killed Garak's desire.

When Julian was dressed, he led him to the living room and instructed him to sit on the sofa. He paced the room for a few moments, attempting to calm himself enough so that he wouldn't end up shouting. "Do you realize how precarious our situation is?" he asked in a low voice. "If I am to maintain control of this station, my authority must never be brought into question. Do you think Odo was alone in his opinion that I'm letting you control me? I assure you, he was not. I have done my best to make it look like the changes I've made to the way the Terrans are treated have to do with increased efficiency, but I'm sure people can't help but notice that your presence coincides with my sudden change of heart. How do you think it would look if I were to let you speak so disrespectfully to an overseer? And what, do you think, would happen if I was perceived to be weak? I'd be overthrown, and then what would happen to you if I wasn't here to protect you? You certainly wouldn't get to keep playing savior to the Terrans. Most likely, you'd be made an example of. Do I have to paint you a picture of what that would be like?"

Julian didn't respond. His gaze was fixed on the floor, but he looked as if he was barely keeping his temper in check. Garak put a hand on Julian's chin and lifted his head, examining the damage he'd caused. He'd aimed for the place on his cheekbone where the damage would be the least, but it had still left a nasty bruise. There was a small wound on his lip where his teeth must have torn it.

Garak sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Well, at least Odo is gone. He was making an annoyance of himself. This is going to cause no end of trouble with the Bajorans, though. I'm fairly certain I can bribe my way out of it, but I'm sure they'll make me pay through the nose."

"May I go now?" Julian asked.

"Yes, fine," Garak said, waving his hand. As Julian stood, however, Garak approached him. He touched the bruise gently; Julian winced. "I'm sorry I struck you," Garak said. "It won't happen again."

"Do you promise?" Julian said bitterly. He left the room.

It took Garak a moment to collect himself. It seemed that in spite of everything that had happened between the two of them, there had still been a small part of Julian that had trusted him. Now even that was gone.

He wished he could bring Odo back so he could shoot him again.

Julian refused to heal the bruise. Garak tried to order him to, but Julian balked. "What are you going to do to me if I don't – hit me again?" he'd said, calling his bluff. The sex, unsurprisingly, took a turn for the worse. Julian still kept his word, but his act was much less convincing. It didn't help that Garak was forced to look at the bruise on his cheek every time they were together, a visceral reminder of the ugliness of that moment. It infuriated Garak – it had been Julian's fault, after all. What right did he have to be angry?

It would have been wise to leave Julian alone and give them both time to cool off. Instead, Garak increased his demands, pulling Julian aside three or four times a day and demanding intercourse every night. The sex became rougher – Garak found himself grabbing Julian's hair in his fist when he was on his knees in front of him, or thrusting a little too hard when they were in bed together. Garak realized, with shame, that a part of him was doing this to punish Julian, but that knowledge didn't stop him. Perhaps he would have let up if Julian had shown even a hint of being chastened, but instead he grew more defiant. He practically sneered at him every time Garak took him aside; his eyes always burned with anger.

It came to a head one night two weeks later. They were in bed together, naked. Garak had two fingers inside him, preparing him. Julian was running his hand up and down Garak's ridges as they kissed, his movements mechanical. Julian wasn't aroused, and neither was Garak, although it wasn't from lack of trying. He finally pulled away in frustration.

"What's wrong?" Julian asked

"What's wrong is that you aren't keeping up your end of the bargain," he said. "How am I supposed to enjoy myself when you just lie there? I might as well be fucking an android."

Julian clenched his jaw. "I am doing the best I can," he said.

Garak let out a frustrated sigh and rolled onto his back. This wasn't what he wanted. Every orgasm he had left him feeling less satiated than before. He wanted Julian, not some body to fuck. Agreeing to this arrangement was a terrible idea, but he didn't know how to fix it. "Talk to me," he said.

Julian was silent for a moment. "Do you remember that time last week when you pulled me into the turbo lift? You pulled back my shirt as you pinned me against the wall, kissing my bare neck as you guided my hand to your hard – "

"That's isn't what I meant," Garak snapped.

"Then what do you mean?" Julian shot back with equal irritation.

What did he mean? "Tell me something about yourself," Garak said eventually. "How did you decide to be a doctor?"

Before he answered, Julian took a cloth from the beside table and wiped the lubricant off of himself. Garak was still amazed at how unselfconscious he was about his body. "When I was ten years old, my father and I got caught in an ionic storm on Inveria II. We found shelter with an Inverian girl, and while we were waiting out the storm, she became ill. My father went for help as soon as he could, but she died before he returned. I later learned that a common herb that grew in abundance in that area could have saved her. I never wanted something like that to happen to me again, so I started to study medicine. When I was old enough, I made it my career."

It was a story that made Garak love Julian a little more and like himself even less. "Your father must be very proud of you."

Julian shrugged. "I suppose so. We don't talk very much anymore."

"Why not?"

"I'd prefer not to discuss it."

Garak didn't press him further. "I never knew my father," he said. "I was the product of rape. My mother was attacked by a soldier passing through her province."

"I'm so sorry," Julian said, and seemed to mean it.

It was Garak's turn to shrug. "What for? I wouldn't exist if he hadn't raped my mother, and I can't imagine having such a brute in my life would have benefited me. It simply is what it is."

"It still must have been hard for you to hear. How did you find out?"

"Oh, my mother was fond of reminding me every time she was upset with me," he said. "She used to say I was the worst thing that ever happened to her."

Julian looked shocked. "How could she be that cruel to her own son?"

"In her defense, I was a rotten child – always getting into trouble."

"I don't care how 'rotten' you were," Julian said. "You were a child. You didn't deserve that kind of treatment. And perhaps you would have been better behaved if you had a mother who loved you the way she was supposed to."

Garak was surprised by the passion in his voice. "She had a hard life," Garak said. "She could have smothered in my crib – no one would have cared. But she didn't – she raised me in spite of being completely on her own. She kept me fed and safe, which is more than I can say for my peers. Our relationship did improve when I was older and was able to enter the military."

"How old were you when you joined?"

"Thirteen."

Julian looked horrified. "But you were still a child! Is that normal on Cardassia to take children so young into military service?"

"No. I lied about my age. All Cardassian citizens are required to serve for at least two years, so I would have had to go eventually anyway. Going sooner meant my mother didn't have to feed me anymore. She didn't ask me to; it was my own idea. And I was able to pay her back for all the years she cared for me; I think she was even proud of me."

Julian still looked horrified. "I'm sorry that happened to you," he said. "No one's childhood should be stolen like that."

Garak sat up so that they were eye to eye. "You really mean that, don't you?" he murmured. He cupped Julian's face in his hand and brushed his thumb over his injured cheek. The bruise had faded to a brownish yellow. "Does this still hurt?"

Julian shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said. And he was. He was struck suddenly with the urge to take Julian to docking, find him a shuttle, and send him off with every last slip of latinum he had. Let him fly away from this wretched place, go back to his home – or if that wasn't possible, let him find a life for himself, one that was free.

But he couldn't – he couldn't. "I am so sorry," he repeated. It came out almost like a sob.

Julian put his hand over Garak's . He let it linger there a moment before gently leading Garak's hand away. "I think we should get some sleep," he said.

Garak looked into Julian's eyes, but couldn't tell what he was feeling. "All right," he said quietly.

They lay down together, Garak curled behind Julian with one arm around his waist. Julian didn't tense up or attempt to move away. Did this mean he was forgiven? Or that Julian was simply too tired to fight anymore? Garak kissed the back of Julian's neck – another apology. But he knew there was no apology adequate to what he was doing to him.