Note: Just a bit after deadline, doing a little better this week. also, we finally have some more action going on! Next Chapter as well might be a bit hair raising. Also, I did promise in the comments on the last chapter that yes, at the end of this arc Garak is getting him some hot Julian Bashir in the sack... or up again a wall or wherever haha. Anyway, thanks to everyone reading and hanging on for this crazy ride. Looks for this thing to go on for a damn long time with the upcoming arcs I have in mind. C&C always welcome, you guys rock!
The door swings open seemingly of its own volition and Garak finds the empty room that greets the two of them to be almost anticlimactic. No, not empty. In the center of the room stands a curious wooden pedestal with a closed box that piques his curiosity immediately, being the only thing in the room save for a door on the far side. Garak keeps that interest in check, knowing that it would hardly befit a man of his age and station to dash in like an overly enthusiastic child. He gives Julian standing next to him a small sidelong smirk, admiration in his voice.
"I must say, my dear, I am completely in awe of your lock picking prowess. It is a very useful if somewhat unexpected skill."
"Unexpected?" Julian asks with a raised eyebrow. "You seemed to be expecting it when you asked me and my "nimble fingers" to give you a hand with the door."
"Or perhaps that was merely a pretext for further sexual activity away from you and your delightful little toys." To that he catches a faint darkening of Julian's face before he takes a step into the room with a huff.
"Yes… well you know I-"
Julian holds out a hand quick, barring him from further entry. Garak sees his head turn sharply, as if hearing some sound that is nothing but silence to his own ears. Julian does not bid him be silent which in fact worries him if the sound requires such concentration, such concern, as to leave him speechless. Garak sees his eyes get wide, and thinks he can detect some faint tremor as well. Were it not for Julian's immediate reaction he would think he were imagining it. But as it stands, he is ready when Julian grabs his wrist and yells a frantic "move!" Garak doesn't know why he has the impulse to jump, but it is there seemingly seconds before that tug. He propels himself forward, and coupled with that hard jerk, the momentum nearly sends him flying through the air. A few stumbling steps when Julian releases his hand allows him to right himself awkwardly.
Julian, Guls damned augment that he is, is far more graceful. A tuck, a roll over, sweeping back to his feet, and Garak nearly has an impulse to trip him mid flourish. He sees the twinkle in Julian's eye, a push up of spectacles on his face that he swears is meant to be sultry, and Garak finds himself fast aroused once more. That comes just as the floor shakes, a massive thud reaching his ears, and with a quick turn, his stunned eyes catch sight of a long silver wall, glinting his own reflection back. He feels the quickening of his pulse as Julian steps next to him in an instant and he curses silently. Of course you know it's a sight more difficult to calm the body from such a heightened state for Cardassians compared to some others. Especially when one finds one's self in an equally charged situation...
Still, he is a trained operative, and he pushes that thought to the back of his mind letting it stir, letting it simmer for a time when he's better able to attend to the problem.
"A guillotine," he hears Julian breath out next to him and he sees those spectacles come off, the practiced motion of polishing the lenses on his rumpled shirt to reflect clear disbelief. It's a rather engaging affectation, and as his heart beats quickly, that adrenaline surging. Garak has the rather embarrassing impulse to throw him right against the surface and continue where they left off.
"A guillotine?" he repeats, watching Julian's long fingers gliding carefully along the smooth side. He touches the cool metal himself, looking down, seeing the groove in the floor, that break in the wood planks not present anywhere else. He has an idea as Julian explains the ancient earth device, the blade designed to sever neatly.
Already Garak's moving to the box, carefully observing the remainder of the room, seeing no other tells on the floor, catching sight of the open ceiling panel, seeing no others.
"What did you hear?" Garak asks, all business as he finds that the box is locked with a combination lock. He had made a rudimentary study of lock picking on this world, mostly by trial and error. He's seen mostly keyed locking systems but has had some minor experience with padlocks; none so far have been successful.
"I heard a mechanism, turning, something release, and I caught sight of the floor trench and well I don't know that I'd call it a sixth sense necessarily but..." Julian looks and his eyes fall to the box with the built in combination dial. Those eyes dance again, his demeanor reminiscent of Jadzia, that mischievous look hardly shying away from danger but rather rushing headlong into it.
"Do you require my... nimble fingers again, Garak?" Julian teases him as he approaches the box. There's that look slipping once more to the devilish, and this time there is no doubt in Garak's mind that it is completely intentional. He wonders if he would set off some other trap if he took Julian right now against that cold metal blade. Garak catches that heat, that scent, intrigued at the equal arousal he still detects. Some adolescent part of his brain locked away, hidden, suppressed for far too many years bubbles to the surface just long enough to leave him with a fleeting glance to the front of those loose trousers as if he might discern even the faint outline of that-
"If I didn't know any better, my dear," Garak answers smoothly, not allowing even the faintest hint of that wayward lust to enter his tone, "I might almost think this was another attempt on my life."
"I think you're giving me far too much credit," Julian says with another teasing grin back. "But as for this... now this I believe I can do something about, after all."
Garak takes a step back just as Julian saunters over, standing in front of the box with a quick study. He really does not tire of watching that double blink, that fast process of that beautiful mind reflected brilliantly in equally stunning hazel eyes. In this light, in fact, they've turned from hazel, from pale, to almost emerald and he considers whether or not it is a trick of the light or some affect of his augmentation. Really, for all Garak knows of human biology, it might be a perfectly natural characteristic of that hue of iris. In any case, Julian merely smiles, self assured, just a mild cocky tilt of his head as he gets right to work. Garak is not certain what end game they will find upon opening the box, but he certainly suspects in piecing all information together that the door is the key to the basement he'd dismissed the existence of until this moment here. He also harbors no illusions of their solitude in this endeavor should that woman have been in close enough proximity to have heard that sound.
There are no curtains. The daylight streaming in from midday is more than ample light to illuminate the room. The fallen blade was close enough to the doorway to have obscured none of the windows on the east and west sides. He's certain anyone looking in from the proper angle could see the two of them clearly, and quite possibly the blade should the sun glint just right. But that's not the main concern. The sun won't be far west enough to be an issue for at least another few hours. The issue is those two and you already know they have no qualms in ending your life or at least stunning it for the sake of saving the galaxy from some otherworldly threat. Humans and their noble quests are really terribly tiresome... There is, of course, one human who does not seem to be as noble as he first appeared. Garak's mind flashing back to that needle in hand, that damp cotton, and curiously, he feels that point on his stomach finding it to be almost perfectly numb. He isn't sure that the motion is undetected until he hears the voice answering the unspoken query.
"Spined scorpion venom," Julian supplies, carefully turning the dial, ear to the box. "Numbs, paralyses, poisons... at least when injected into the bloodstream. Now see what I'm doing here you normally can't do without the use of a stethoscope but well... I won't tell if you won't." He gives a few more turns back. "Of course it's not a scorpion proper. I mean, they share the subphylum chelicerata but actually they have ten legs, not eight, so rather than being a predatory arachnid- Ah, and there we go!" Julian takes a step back beaming as Garak contemplates the nature of the death he rather neatly avoided. Assuming he intended to poison you, but let's not be naive, Elim, a threat made during play is still a threat, and you knew the odds were likely that he would respond just as he had. One might almost say you were hoping to cultivate that sort of response just to test him, to see how far you could push him. Always courting death as Tain might say. She always accused you of pushing, of trying to turn her into something else. You and her father... Now how can he maintain such a boyish exuberance not ten minutes after trying to murder you with your prick in his mouth?
Julian practically bounces as he takes a step aside, opening the box to reveal two keys neatly pressed into a velvet lining. Skeleton keys, Garak's mind supplies helpfully as he looks to the door on the far end once more. Likely one opening the door, the other perhaps a door below. Whatever the case, you at least have some time while the two of them attempt to maneuver past the rather effective blockade. There can't be more than two feet of clearance between the top and the ceiling. They might venture the window but that would have to wait at least until evening when the back of the building is dark. Odo will also be watching them as well so they might not even try anything without shaking him first.
"There's more noise," Julian says suddenly, and Garak quickly pockets the keys drawing back. He looks to Julian silently, seeing the turn of his head, watching him walk towards that door warily. "Timers," is the answer, as Julian frowns. "I can't be sure of the where or how but there's some limit I'm sure of it. It's the ticking of a clock face or another similar device, I'm almost certain of it. You've no intention of telling me what the devil is going on, do you?"
Garak notices the slight back and forth sway, that bit of humming anticipation that accompanies that faint scowl. Even in his pique, there is an excited tinge, a sense of clandestine adventure that he'd though he lost his taste for until right at this moment. Garak approaches the door as well and finds himself smiling.
"Tell me, Julian," he answers conversationally as he tries the first key and finds the lock opens easily. "Are you familiar with the works of Parmalat?" Hand on the knob, he sees Julian shake his head.
"While there are hardly a shortage of books here, old and new I can't say I have. Is that a Cardassian author?"
"Oh yes, indeed. One of the greats you might say. Ah, but great might be a somewhat subjective matter. Most of my colleagues in the tailor's guilds back on Cardassia Prime swore they gave up on that sort of fanciful trash in their younger days. But as for me..." Garak allows the door to swing open grandly revealing a steep staircase. "I find his work to be rather inspiring."
He is cautious as he peers down, eyes quickly adjusting to the growing darkness further down that stairwell. He can see that it curves. Not with a landing and a neat ninety degree angle like Rom's, but with a perfectly arcing bow that intrigues him immensely. What he notices second of all is the lack of any sort of rail as far down as he can see but finally, the wood planks give way to metal steps that remind him so vividly of Parmalat's third novel Steeped in Secrets that he already knows the secret therein.
"My, my, it would appear the young Sisko is far more duplicitous and enterprising than I gave him credit for," he murmurs as he debates invoking Julian's ire by shoving him in there first. "I had no idea such technology was even possible on this world," he says louder as Julian joins his study.
"Stairs?" Julian asks with such bright earnest that Garak's carefully cultivated sarcasm detector is blaring warning bells that are almost tangible in his head. Yes, he's definitely shoving him down there head first.
"Surely you've had opportunity to parse the young Sisko's Come On Danger," Garak offers already putting more pieces of the mystery together even as he keeps any sense of urgency from entering his voice. An author familiar with all the works of Parmalat's famous trap novels, a deceased engineer who you recall being told was trained by O'Brien and certainly his father both who have all the knowledge of any necessary mechanical conversions necessary to execute such engineering feats and you have what is likely an increasingly ludicrous underground full of traps, pitfalls, and death dealing devices. My, Elim, you really should be considering minimizing the injuries you'll receive in jumping out the window rather than even dreaming of continuing such a reckless and pointless diversion. Mmm, reckless, pointless, damn desirable doctor right here just as eager, just as ready to go as they say and so help me you cannot possibly be going into this madness just to complete the deadly coupling interrupted downstairs.
He is, of course, and it perhaps does lend just a bit of credence to the concern that he's been starting to lose his mind in his old age. That he's lost "it", that the spark, the zeal has been bled out of him into nothing. But looking at Julian, it's hardly nothing, it's a rather maddening drive for more, for excitement, for puzzles that he's yet to conquer and foes far beyond some sniveling bureaucrats wetting themselves in a cell awaiting his arrival.
"Jake's book? Of course, I've read them all, though I'm surprised that you have considering-"
"I consider myself a student of the universe, my dear," Garak declares grandly. "And while I found the work far too full of pointless sentimentality for my tastes, you still have at heart a touching tribute to one of Cardassia's more popular authors. And this lovely staircase so prominently featured in Steeped in Secrets is a homey homage to the famous scene where Aldim triggers the trick stairs to slide rather neatly to a painful death impaled on a series of neatly sharpened protrusions. I've heard tell from some human critics that Parmalat's obsession with impalement is indicative of a phallic symbolism but I'm afraid they're coming from a biased viewpoint of-"
"Did you say 'impalement'?" Julian interrupts him with a comically long extension of his neck through the doorway as if he might see the source of the mechanism to trigger such a feat.
"Quite," Garak agrees primly. "And might I also add, that while your assertion of the noise that you hear is a timer is an educated guess, I would expand on that thought by speculating that it is not necessarily a timer set off by the opening of the box, but instead the delightful mechanical hum of your Westworld devices responding to a careful set of cues and triggers, perhaps timed like your elaborate geared time pieces. I'm afraid I owe you an apology as it seems that during the course of our ingress some improper action likely begun this series of unfortunate events."
"You knew this was going to happen!" Julian accuses him, that whirl of his head so quick, that it leaves his spectacles half askew with that motion. Garak feels an inappropriate titter of laughter in his throat. He beams back a winning smile.
"Perhaps you would care to go first, my dear?" Garak thrills at the indignant sputter, the affronted drawing up, and finds that warm simmer in his belly still smoldering quite hard. This is really not helping him move towards the wiser course of action, he decides. That though flits about uselessly for a moment before he snuffs it out.
"Are you mad?! Of course you're mad! Just like Leeta said, the lot of you are bloody starkers! If you think for one moment that I'm-" Hot, wanting, excited, aroused. All those things his human body language confuses but his scent, his eyes don't at all. Garak keeps that smile perfectly plastered on his face as he holds up a finger to his lips in the midst of Julian's rather impressive tirade, pleased that little bit of human cultural conditioning works when Julian falls silent and also stills his body movements. Danger. Of course that's what Julian believes, and what Garak wants him to believe as he waits, and leans in cautiously.
"The angle is steep so slow your descent on the walls. I have every faith in your ability, dear Julian." And that is the Gul's honest truth, should it ever be asked if Garak has, as she once asked "ever told the truth one time in his wretched lying life." He knows, just as he shoulders into Julian hard ,that the augment's reflexes, strength, vision will keep him out of harm's way and see him safe to whatever fate awaits at the bottom.
But one thing he hadn't counted on, as Julian falls backwards into the darkness, is the hand which grabs his wrist in an unbreakable lightning grip, and drags him along for the ride.
