A/N: chapter 25 is finally here! Thank you again to everyone who's read/enjoyed this fic so far. I'm really enjoying writing it and I've got lots more in store for Corina and Damar :)

And the silence stretched out between them, hung there in the air as a dandelion head floats on the breeze. But it wasn't summer, and they weren't outside. They had experienced so much together — the dry heat of the desert on Pirithous Prime, its stark and snowy mountains, and the cacophony of the town on Magnus IV.

Now, they were inside, locked up, caged. There were only ever two reasons for them to be treated so, as Corina noted. Either they were being held there for their own protection or they were being remanded for some crimes they'd committed.

She thought she was sure — had been sure — which was the most likely reason. But then. She sighed as she remembered her brother's words. He'd said there wasn't going to be any trial

So why were they there?

Her gaze drifted up from the floor, lips parted, eyes wide, and she saw him.

"Damar, you haven't said anything."

The Cardassian grunted, shifted as if in pain, though from what Corina didn't know, and yet he was still silent.

"You need to tell me what you know of the Marquis."

Again. Nothing.

She brought a weary hand to her forehead, massaged it, as if that could soothe the ache. It couldn't.

And then Damar's expression became sympathetic, and the slightest smile appeared on his lips.

"If I tell you, Corina," he said softly, and it felt good to hear him say her name again. "Then they'll be able to question you."

"Like they questioned you?"

She hadn't meant to say it. She certainly hadn't meant to say it in that way — brusque, obtrusive, forthright.

Then his face became veiled, unreadable, and he pursed his lips.

"Like they questioned me," he said smoothly. "Look, Corina. I don't know what more I can tell you."

"Remember when we were on Magnus IV?" she asked.

He nodded.

"You said you'd heard talk of some anti-Cardassian movement. I don't know — maybe Dukat let something slip? I don't care how you came to find this out. But what else do you know?"

At last, he sighed, reached out and took her hand. She sidled closer to him; they were still sat on the floor.

"It must've been a few months ago," he began. "This was before we, uh, met. I was Dukat's second-in-command, and he trusted me. But there were some bits of information — intelligence, if you will — that even I wasn't meant to know."

She watched as he bristled slightly at that memory, at that realisation that he and his commanding officer were not equals, at that understanding that Damar was beginning to resent Dukat's control over him.

"I think Dukat — well, the Occupation was getting to him. At Ops, we were overwhelmed with so much information. There were requests, casualty reports, maintenance orders. Not to mention the political pressure from the Detapa Council to smoothen out the, uh, rougher edges of the Occupation."

She winced slightly, wondered what exactly those rougher edges were, and she had to fight back the memories of her time on Terok Nor. Of the comfort women and the men working in the refinery, and the dirty, shabby children. But, before she had met Damar, before their time together, she knew she would've derided Damar's view of the past. His rose-tinted reflection that Dukat being overwhelmed was an issue, in the face of the Occupation itself.

And Corina was human, and flawed. This time, it mattered. This time, it was her brother, and that made it all the more visceral, all the more painful.

"So Dukat was stressed?" Usually, she would've scoffed at such an idea. But not now.

Damar nodded. "And then some. It was disconcerting, I guess. The other officers and I were so used to seeing him being calm, efficient."

She had to agree. Dukat was many things but she couldn't ever imagine him being stressed.

"He never said it directly, of course, but I think he was growing tired of — and perhaps even annoyed with — his comfort woman. She started demanding certain things, thinking she was more important than—" he broke off, cleared his throat.

"Then what am I?" she asked pointedly.

"You were never a comfort woman, Corina," he said gruffly.

"That's not what you were saying when we first met."

"Because I was—"

"Envious, I know," she interrupted with a smile, and they both relished in that memory for as long as they dared to. "But how can you condemn Dukat's comfort woman for wanting what she deserved?"

He sighed. "Because that's not how it works on Terok Nor. There is an order, a structure."

"A hierarchy?"

He ignored — or maybe thought nothing of — her questioning tone.

"If you will," he continued smoothly. "She was a Bajoran, and they're loyal to one another. If word got out that she was allowed certain liberties, there would've been chaos on the station."

She nodded slowly, remembering the fiasco that had ensued when she had given that food to the Bajoran child. Benal Minok, he was called, and Corina wondered where he was now.

"But what does this have to do with Dukat?"

And then Damar sighed, looked away, was quiet. He drew himself to his feet. Corina bit her lower lip, desperate to know more, to have her questions answered. She stood, took his face, cold as it was, in her hands, kissed him once, softly, on the lips.

"Damar, please."

"I can't tell you any more, Corina."

"Why not?" She was angry now.

Gently, he held her arms, looked her in the eye, looked at her for a long time, as if he were committing her face to memory, as if he feared he would never see her again.

"Because it's too dangerous."

"I think we can cope with a little bit more danger," she muttered. "We've come this far."

"Not with this danger," he finished.

Exasperated, she tore her wrists out of his griping. She raised her hand to the commpanel and was about to call for someone. She hadn't got as far as thinking who she was going to speak to. Or what she was going to say.

"Well, then I may as well speak to my brother," she decided. "If you're not going to help me, Damar, then—"

Damar was behind her, had pulled her away from the commpanel, and now he was holding her once more. This time, though, when he looked at her, he saw the distress written all over her face, her flushed cheeks, her furrowed brow, and he thought about it — about everything — for a moment.

"Damar, what are you—?"

"I can't tell you." He spoke quietly, definitively. "Because I don't want you to think of me as you'll think of me when you find out. I don't want you hate me."

"Why would I hate you? I can't… I couldn't…" There were tears in her eyes now, pricking and salty. She swallowed, and her breathing was shaky. "Damar, I love you. I could never—"

I love you.

Those words hung there for a while, anchored the two of them together.

Damar blinked. "I love you, too, Corina."

A smile broke out upon her lips, and she was on her tiptoes, kissing him, holding him, never wanting to let go.

He held her waist, watched her as she pulled away.

"Then why would you worry about me hating you?" she asked.

He sighed, kissed her forehead, tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear.

"Because this woman tried to assassinate Dukat."

She stared at him, shock washing over her like wave in a storm. And now she was drowning.

But she thrashed about, was above the water now, and she saw everything clearly, clearer than she had ever expected to.

"His comfort woman tried to kill him?" she breathed.

Damar waved a noncommittal hand, almost smirked. "It's not unheard of."

"I'm not surprised," she agreed. "But why? Surely she knew she would be caught?"

"She was."

"She was?"

He sighed. "She killed herself when in custody."

"Oh," was all she could say, was all she could think of saying, as she let that revelation was over her. She thought, was about to speak, faltered, then pressed a hand to her forehead.

Damar raised an eye ridge, stroked her hair. "I don't have to tell you more."

"No," she said, taking a deep breath. "I want to know. This woman, she must've done what she did for a good reason. A very good reason. Why else would she sacrifice herself for it?"

"You remember the Maquis?"

She nodded.

Damar glanced around the room — the cell — and then let his gaze fall back to her. "As I was saying, Dukat had known about their existence for some time. The Detapa Council had briefed those at the top of the chain of command. Dukat was annoyed — probably even scared — by this attack, and he revealed everything to me."

"It must've been a pretty scary attack."

"Oh, it was. We Cardassians have sensitive ears, and Dukat complained weeks later about them ringing, giving him trouble. He's broken a few bones, too, and it made him even more, uh, hostile towards the Bajorans."

Again, she wasn't surprised. But there was one thing more pressing on her mind.

"But, Damar, what I don't get is why you didn't tell me."

"I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to have this weight on your shoulders."

"That wasn't your choice to make."

"I know. But I'm not sorry, Corina. I wanted to protect you."

"I don't need protecting."

"You do."

Indignation flared in her features but he silenced her.

"And I do," he added pointedly. "When I was chained up in that compound, I heard you whisper something to me. I thought I'd heard what you said but the fan was so loud and I was so tired—"

She smiled sympathetically. "I said I'd find you."

"And you did."

"And I did."

"Are you glad?"

"Glad? That I found you?"

He smiled wistfully. "About everything. About us."

"Of course I am," she said honestly, and for a money, she forgot about where she was and what might happen. She paused. "What did you know about this woman?"

He sighed, not sure whether to admire her tenacity or curse her persistence. "I only met her a few times. She wasn't particularly sociable."

If being sociable meant being pawed at during one of those parties then Corina wasn't sure she could reprimand the woman for that. But she needed him to continue.

"I may have asked her how she was finding things," he said. "But she rarely left Dukat's side. In fact, basically never. You see, I was only promoted to glinn recently and up until then, I was a junior officer. I wasn't ever invited to these, uh, parties. I'd never seen a comfort woman. Once I got promoted, I got invited, and well, I noticed that she never left his side." He shook his head, thinking back. "She was always there, her hand on his arm."

Corina pursed her lips, pressed a hand to her temple. "Did you ever see her do anything out of the ordinary?"

"No. She never spoke. She was simply there."

"Perhaps you resented how she distracted Dukat from you?"

Damar shook his head, caught her eye purposefully. "No. It wasn't that. Dukat trusted me, and I him, but I did not trust her."

"We'll, I think that kind of answers why you were so welcoming to me."

A wry smile crossed his lips. "Probably."

"Do you remember her name?"

"I only ever caught her first name. Something like Delina." He shrugged. "But you humans and Bajorans, you have strange names."

She ignored that, gave him a playful smile, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking it over. From questioning herself and second-guessing herself.

"So, let me get this straight. Dukat's comfort woman, this Delina, she was exercising too much control over him? I'd like to guess he's not one to say no to feminine wiles. But then he tried to take back control? And she retaliated hy trying to kill him?"

"When you say it like that, it makes sense."

"And she was involved with the Marquis?"

"It must've annoyed her," Damar mused. "Considering she resented Cardassians so much."

Many species did, Corina thought. But to be made a comfort woman of all things? No, that was too convenient.

"She wasn't made to be a comfort woman," Corina said, thinking back over it slowly, and then, all of a sudden, it was clear. "She wanted to be a comfort woman. She was planted there, on Terok Nor, to get close to Dukat."

"She was a spy?"

Silence. The ship's engines continued to thrum in the background. The stars streaked on by through the small window, and it seemed as if they had been at warp forever.

"Well done."

Corina and Damar looked around, up, towards the door, looking for the source of that disembodied voice.

The commpanel beeped.

Charlton walked in.

"I'm impressed," he said.

There was much more to it than she could ever have thought, dreamed, feared.