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Lwaxana/Garak/Bashir story: Julian’s Death
424 words. Part of Garak’s delusion about killing Bashir: Lwaxana, entering his mind, discovers that he’s reliving an endless loop of slipping into Bashir’s quarters in the middle of the night, gazing at his peacefully sleeping form for a moment in the darkness (the boy is smiling as he dreams), then stepping forward and pulling out a hypospray. At his approach Bashir awakens and rolls over, turning toward him, frowning at first, then brightening when he sees who’s paying him a midnight visit. He smiles so eagerly, clearly anticipating another adventure of the sort that took them both to Bajor in search of an orphan’s records; Garak has a heartbeat to ponder how pathetic his enthusiasm is, and how misplaced his trust, before he applies the hypospray to Bashir’s neck and injects poison into his throat. Bashir’s eyes widen, and he has time for a single query - “Garak -?” before the drug takes away his power of speech...
Excerpt from the Lwaxana/Bashir/Garak story:
751 words of first draft, after Bashir goes deep into Garak’s mind with Lwaxana’s help and pulls child!Garak out of that dark dank cupboard. He sits down against the wall in the cold basement room with the sobbing little one in his lap and tries to talk to him, but he’s not having much luck. And Garak is getting gradually older as the conversation progresses: at the point this picks up he’s gone through the stages of small child and teenager...
Fic bit: “The Upper Hand”
~1100 words, NC-17 (for fondling and dirty talk), pornish bit. So an engineer, and doctor and spy crash-land on a snowy planet, knocking out most of their shuttle’s systems in the process, and the engineer sets off across the white waste toward what might be a village further down the valley while the doctor and the spy stay with the spacecraft and try (without much hope) to get the subspace comm system working again. A couple of hours later they get a message from the engineer that there’s life in the village and that there’s a transmitter in a larger settlement a few kilometers away, but that a massive snowstorm is coming down and nobody should move until it’s over. The shuttle’s ventilation system is shot so the door’s been cracked open to allow air flow, the temperature is dropping, and the doctor and the spy (who’s cold blooded) end up snuggled together on one cot, back to back, to conserve body heat.
In the middle of the night the doctor wakes up to find himself spooning the spy, who doesn’t appear to mind (or at least appears to be sleeping soundly). And things proceed from there.
(One thing I like about this concept is that it’s the doctor who’s making the plans and taking the active (one might even say vindictive) role. No naive innocent here…)
424 words. Part of Garak’s delusion about killing Bashir: Lwaxana, entering his mind, discovers that he’s reliving an endless loop of slipping into Bashir’s quarters in the middle of the night, gazing at his peacefully sleeping form for a moment in the darkness (the boy is smiling as he dreams), then stepping forward and pulling out a hypospray. At his approach Bashir awakens and rolls over, turning toward him, frowning at first, then brightening when he sees who’s paying him a midnight visit. He smiles so eagerly, clearly anticipating another adventure of the sort that took them both to Bajor in search of an orphan’s records; Garak has a heartbeat to ponder how pathetic his enthusiasm is, and how misplaced his trust, before he applies the hypospray to Bashir’s neck and injects poison into his throat. Bashir’s eyes widen, and he has time for a single query - “Garak -?” before the drug takes away his power of speech...
Excerpt from the Lwaxana/Bashir/Garak story:
751 words of first draft, after Bashir goes deep into Garak’s mind with Lwaxana’s help and pulls child!Garak out of that dark dank cupboard. He sits down against the wall in the cold basement room with the sobbing little one in his lap and tries to talk to him, but he’s not having much luck. And Garak is getting gradually older as the conversation progresses: at the point this picks up he’s gone through the stages of small child and teenager...
Fic bit: “The Upper Hand”
~1100 words, NC-17 (for fondling and dirty talk), pornish bit. So an engineer, and doctor and spy crash-land on a snowy planet, knocking out most of their shuttle’s systems in the process, and the engineer sets off across the white waste toward what might be a village further down the valley while the doctor and the spy stay with the spacecraft and try (without much hope) to get the subspace comm system working again. A couple of hours later they get a message from the engineer that there’s life in the village and that there’s a transmitter in a larger settlement a few kilometers away, but that a massive snowstorm is coming down and nobody should move until it’s over. The shuttle’s ventilation system is shot so the door’s been cracked open to allow air flow, the temperature is dropping, and the doctor and the spy (who’s cold blooded) end up snuggled together on one cot, back to back, to conserve body heat.
In the middle of the night the doctor wakes up to find himself spooning the spy, who doesn’t appear to mind (or at least appears to be sleeping soundly). And things proceed from there.
(One thing I like about this concept is that it’s the doctor who’s making the plans and taking the active (one might even say vindictive) role. No naive innocent here…)