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Fourth Part of DS9 fanfic: "Five Things..."
..which never happened between Kira and Dukat. A fifth season AU this time. You know, I really wanted to do a fourth season Return to Grace AU, but these darkfic muses refuse to cooperate. And the fifth and final story won't be that nice fourth season AU, either. Incidentally, after two Kira povs, it's Dukat's turn again in number IV. Virtual cookies for anyone guessing whose pov the final one will be.
IV. The Darkness and the Light
He found her in what looked like a cross between someone's laboratory and a deserted factory. Obviously, a fight had taken place; she leaned against the wall, shivering. Judging by the look of her, her pregnancy was in its final stages. The body of the crippled Cardassian was not too far away.
"Siluren Prin, I assume," Dukat said, nodding towards it, and knelt down next to Kira to check on her. She swallowed and visibly struggled to get her body under control, to assume that confident, self-sufficient attitude she so prided herself on. He felt his usual mixture of admiration and irritation.
"Dukat," Kira asked, "what are you doing here?"
"Not rescuing you, it seems," he replied, satisfied that she was unharmed. "Since you did that yourself with your usual efficiency. To tell you the truth, Major, after what both Constable Odo and Ziyal told me, I thought I would find you carved up by this supposedly brilliant assassin."
The request to join in the search for Kira could not have come at a more inconvenient time. But "I am in secret negotiations with a representative of the Dominion" clearly had not been an excuse Dukat could use, and besides, the thought of Kira being killed by some lunatic was revolting to him. He had no illusions; she would neither understand nor forgive him for the method he had found to rescue Cardassia from its current position as the favoured meal of the Klingon Empire, for ending his own existence as a pirate with some pretense as a resistance fighter in favour of becoming once more what he was meant to be, a leader of men. A leader of Empires. No, she could not understand. But he had enjoyed their time as allies, and the last time he had seen her, she had actually relaxed enough towards him to tease him about the father of the child she was carrying. There was no reason not to end this alliance the way it had started, with a rescue mission. She would be grateful, he would escort her home and still be in time for his meeting with that Vorta Weyoun. The next time they saw each other, she would undoubtedly curse him and some reminders of owing her life to him would then taste sweet in his mouth.
"He was… sorry for me," she said slowly, disbelieving. "He gave me a sedative. Because he wanted to separate the darkness from the light."
"A madman, obviously," Dukat said, helping her to rise with the practise of a man who had been around pregnant women countless times. She did accept his help, but as soon as she stood, a little jerk of her shoulders made it clear he was to let go. Dukat sighed, then added: "Such a thing is impossible."
He spoke into his communicator, and they were transported to his Bird of Prey. Once he had escorted Kira to what served as their sickbay on that Klingon inconvenience, he returned to returned to the bridge, contacted Weyoun and told him he would be able to keep the rendezvous after all. After finishing the conversation, he was about to order Damar to open a channel to the Defiant so they could tell Sisko he had found the missing Major, when he heard her voice, as cold and hard as it had ever been.
"You Cardassian filth," she said.
He looked at her, barely holding herself together to stand in the frame of the lift unaided, and the irony became clear to him: she had probably forced herself to come to the bridge in order to thank him.
"You really shouldn't have done that, Major," Dukat said.
Damar looked shocked. "We can't let her go now," he declared. Damar was a good man, if somewhat too fond of stating the obvious. Kira tried to dive for the next bridge officer to get at his weapon, her body, swollen with the child as it was, failed her. After that, it was easy to bring her back to sickbay, in handcuffs this time. Dukat hadn't forgotten what she had said about Siluren Prin giving her a sedative. Obviously, she had some sort of immunity against these things.
"So now what?" she asked, glaring at him when he established an energy field between her bed and the rest of the medical facility, filled with potential weapons as it was. "Are you going to finish Prin's work before or after you betray the entire Quadrant to your new friends?"
As challenges went, this was one was not one of her most efficient, tired and drained as she looked. She reminded him of nobody as much as of Naprem shortly before Ziyal had been born. But she was still Kira Nerys, and he had never underestimated her.
"That depends on you, Major," he said. "You know I can't let you go back to the station now. But it's going to be only a few more weeks anyway. Try to be sensible. Once Cardassia has officially joined the Dominion, there is no reason for me to hold you captive any longer. I will let you go then. But if you insist on displaying your usual brand of heroism and make any attempt to stop me until then, I shall be forced to execute you."
"You would do that," she said contemptuously. "Kill a pregnant woman. I was a complete idiot ever to believe you were something more than a Cardassian butcher."
Strange; usually her insults alternatively amused him or left him cold. But he had not known that she had seen him differently. He wondered whether she realised the implication of what she had just said. But Dukat prided himself on being a practical man first and foremost.
"I, on the other hand, was never foolish enough to believe that you are anything but the most dangerous warrior I have ever met, Nerys," he replied. "I don't want to kill you. Believe it or not, I much prefer the universe with you in it. But I will kill you if you leave me no other choice."
"Don't call me Nerys," she said, then refused to talk to him anymore.
Dukat put on a good performance when talking to Sisko. No, he had found no trace of Kira, but obviously someone had killed Siluren Prin. Either she had been there, and wanted to be alone now, or Prin had killed by the true assassin, who was still at large, as was the Major. Did Sisko want him to investigate the other names on Odo's list?
"No," the Captain growled. "Yes. Look, Dukat, we need all the help we can get. We have to find her. For her sake, and the sake of the baby."
When he went on about Chief O'Brien and his wife, Dukat mentally stopped listening, though he made the appropriate noises and nodded when necessary. Even when he had still believed he could make a difference with a single bird of prey, and that being allied with Sisko and his lot was a good thing, he couldn't have cared less about O'Brien. Now Sisko was an equal, Odo he had always appreciated as an able and useful investigator, Garak was despicable but, as the fate of Dukat's father had proven, to be underestimated at one's peril, and the Doctor was interesting because Garak was interested in him. But O'Brien? Dullness personified. One could even blame him for the current mess, since he and his equally dull wife had not managed to do the natural thing and instead had somehow burdened Kira with their child. If Kira hadn't been pregnant, she would in all likelihood have tracked down Siluren Prin much sooner and dealt with him without a problem, their paths wouldn't have crossed, and everything would have gone as planned. Most importantly, Dukat wouldn't have been in a situation where he could be forced to kill a woman he had admittedly certain feelings for.
The first two days, Dukat gave Kira her food and drink while Damar stood guard with a phaser as long as the energy barrier was lowered. At the third, she had apparently realised that Sisko and her other friends had no idea where she was and would not come to her aid and deigned to talk to him again.
"Look," she said. "If it were just me, I wouldn't care. No, that's a lie - if it were just me, I'd have nailed your treacherous hide to the wall long ago. But I am responsible for this child. So until I have given birth, I will agree to your terms."
"Hm," Dukat returned. "And I should trust you because…?"
"You - trust me? That's a laugh, Dukat. You are the most untrustworthy, lying…," she flared up, and would undoubtedly have continued, if he had not cut her off.
"If you were in my place, Major, would you let someone like yourself roam about the ship, even with an escort?"
"I would never be in your place."
"Which is undoubtedly why I am about to become the leader of Cardassia, and you were wasting your talents playing Sisko's good little handmaiden."
"Is that why you're doing this?" she asked scornfully. "Dukat, all the ruling positions in the Dominion are already occupied by the Founders. Anyone else is a slave, with or without a title. You're selling everyone out for nothing."
"You have seen what has become of Cardassia," he started, then noted that against his better judgement, he had let himself be drawn into a political discussion with her. Abruptly, he turned away, gave Damar the signal to restore the energy barrier and left.
The meeting with Weyoun went as well as one could hope for, but it left him oddly unsatisfied. There was something in the Vorta's ingratiating manner that smacked of condescension. As opposed to what Kira might have thought, he was well aware that the Dominion was not exactly motivated by Cardassia's best interests. But they would cling to the pretense for a while, wanting other allies in the alpha quadrant as they did. The power of the Jem'Hadar would be available to push the Klingons back, and then to restore Cardassia to her former glory. And more. No more humiliating scraps from the Federation's table, oh no. Within a year, the Federation would be the one begging for scraps. And as for the Dominion, well, the Jem'Hadar were simple, if efficient thugs and a Vorta intellect could not compare to a Cardassian's. Of course, there were the Founders. One must be careful not to underestimate them. But Dukat had been able to deal with Odo, the only shapeshifter he had ever met. He would be able to deal with the others as well.
Still, there were some doubts, and they all sounded as if they were spoken in Kira's voice.
He had not told Weyoun that the Major was his prisoner, but somehow the Vorta had found out anyway. It was the first time Weyoun lost something of his pleasant façade.
"How interesting. And why haven't you killed her yet? I hope we didn't ally ourselves with a sentimentalist, Dukat."
"Hardly," Dukat replied. "She will be my messenger to Bajor and the Federation once everything is over. My… emissary."
"What acharming idea," the Vorta said. "But I still think eliminating an unnecessary risk would serve all our interests better."
"I will kill her if she makes a nuisance of herself. Not before."
"It might not be necessary," the Vorta said meaningfully. "Perhaps she dies in childbirth. What a messy, unpleasant way to give life. Cloning is a much safer process."
Bajoran women birth easily, Dukat wanted to say, but then thought better of it. Let the Vorta believe what he wanted.
Naturally, they had no midwife on board, and Roget, who served as their doctor, had lost his family due to a terrorist bombing during the occupation and flatly refused to help a Bajoran give birth. When Dukat told Kira, she bit her lips, but said:
"I don't want any of you to touch me anyway."
"Ah, but we don't always get what we want, Major," Dukat said. "As it turns out, the only two men on board who are married and have children are Damar and myself, and Damar was not present during a birth. Which means…"
"You have to be joking."
"This isn't how I imagined the two of us becoming intimate, either, Nerys," he said, amused.
"Anything you imagine makes me throw up. And don't call me Nerys."
It was a calculated risk. She was capable of trying something even after labour had started, but he had actually believed her when she said she felt responsible for the child. She would wait until it was born, and then… well, then they would see.
He had hot water prepared, sterilized instruments, and found himself sorely tempted to pace up and down while she rubbed her freed wrists and started to recite some Bajoran prayer he vaguely recognised. Which was ridiculous. It wasn't his child which was being born. It was not even her child, in her only because of some perverse trick of fate.
"Dukat," Kira said, "nothing must happen to this child. If anything goes wrong, you will wish I had killed you. You'll long for it."
It wasn't that different from what both his wife and Naprem had said under vastly different circumstances, and he found himself smiling.
"That's not funny."
"It is from this perspective," he said, quoting her own words back at her as he watched her carefully lying down. "Calm yourself, Major. I have no interest whatsoever in the baby."
"That's just it," she returned, and her usual aggression faded into deep seriousness. "There is something lacking in you, don't you sense that? Tell me, Dukat, did you ever care for anyone who wasn't your family or your lover?"
Somehow, a glib reply would not come. Wordlessly, he started massaging her back as he remembered his highly paid physician had done for Naprem. She did not snap at him, but for once, he saw no other implication in the fact she permitted his touch than the obvious one: this was a woman in labour who was tired and stressed out, without anyone at her side who should have been.
It took her a little more than three hours to give birth. During that time, they did not speak with each other very much, except for some questions he asked her about Ziyal, and which she answered. It did occur to him that Ziyal, who admired Kira, was probably mourning for her right now.
"I am grateful that you took care of my daughter," he said suddenly.
"I didn't do it for you, I did it for Ziyal."
When the child came, he heard her laughing, and wondered how often he had heard her laugh about something which made her happy. He still didn't understand why it should be this child, which wasn't hers and which she would have had to give up in any case. But he cleaned the baby from all remains of the carini. The human skin felt soft and very alien under his fingertips. He was about to hand it to her, when he heard something, only a slight noise, hardly anything at all when compared to the soft mewling of the baby. But he was a Cardassian, and he heard it. Rising his head abruptly, he saw her taking the scissors he had used.
"Don't," he said.
Sweaty and exhausted as she was, she looked worse than he had ever seen her, and that fire he noticed each time they met had never burned brighter in her eyes. They looked at each other in silence. Slowly, carefully, Dukat took a few steps back, away from her, put the baby down, and laid it in the bowl where there had been some water to wash her and it earlier.
"You would have killed me anyway," she said, and threw the scissors at an angle that would have cut the artery running through his neck if he had not reactivated the energy barrier when he had stepped back. She watched the scissors bouncing off, and the fleeting expression of surprise on her face made her look very young.
"Probably," he said, opened a drawer, and pulled out the gas filters he had prepared for such an occasion. After a heartbeat of hesitation, he took up the baby again, opened the door and handed it to Damar who had taken it upon himself to stand guard there. Damar's surprised expression hardly registered with Dukat as he sealed the doors again, and put on the filters before pushing the button that would flood the sick bay with the lethal gas that was part of the security system he had installed soon after capturing the ship. Then he took down the energy barrier.
She did try to throw herself at him, but again, her body failed her. The gas was quick; it was also designed to dissolve into harmless particles within an hour. She was supposed to die after only a few minutes, but she held on for almost thirty. During that time, she didn't ask for his help even once.
"Dukat," she whispered at last, when he held her again as he had done during her labour, "promise that you will bring that baby back to its parents."
He could have asked her what explanation he was supposed to give, but found himself not caring anymore.
"Yes," he said, then realised she had tricked him into opening his mouth before the hour was over. It was unlikely to harm him permanently, as the filters attached to his nose did dispense a counteragent the entire time, but it would cause severe hurt. A slight smile curled her lips as he watched her eyes break while she looked at him.
"Can't separate the two," she gasped. Before he could ask her what she had meant, she was gone.
IV. The Darkness and the Light
He found her in what looked like a cross between someone's laboratory and a deserted factory. Obviously, a fight had taken place; she leaned against the wall, shivering. Judging by the look of her, her pregnancy was in its final stages. The body of the crippled Cardassian was not too far away.
"Siluren Prin, I assume," Dukat said, nodding towards it, and knelt down next to Kira to check on her. She swallowed and visibly struggled to get her body under control, to assume that confident, self-sufficient attitude she so prided herself on. He felt his usual mixture of admiration and irritation.
"Dukat," Kira asked, "what are you doing here?"
"Not rescuing you, it seems," he replied, satisfied that she was unharmed. "Since you did that yourself with your usual efficiency. To tell you the truth, Major, after what both Constable Odo and Ziyal told me, I thought I would find you carved up by this supposedly brilliant assassin."
The request to join in the search for Kira could not have come at a more inconvenient time. But "I am in secret negotiations with a representative of the Dominion" clearly had not been an excuse Dukat could use, and besides, the thought of Kira being killed by some lunatic was revolting to him. He had no illusions; she would neither understand nor forgive him for the method he had found to rescue Cardassia from its current position as the favoured meal of the Klingon Empire, for ending his own existence as a pirate with some pretense as a resistance fighter in favour of becoming once more what he was meant to be, a leader of men. A leader of Empires. No, she could not understand. But he had enjoyed their time as allies, and the last time he had seen her, she had actually relaxed enough towards him to tease him about the father of the child she was carrying. There was no reason not to end this alliance the way it had started, with a rescue mission. She would be grateful, he would escort her home and still be in time for his meeting with that Vorta Weyoun. The next time they saw each other, she would undoubtedly curse him and some reminders of owing her life to him would then taste sweet in his mouth.
"He was… sorry for me," she said slowly, disbelieving. "He gave me a sedative. Because he wanted to separate the darkness from the light."
"A madman, obviously," Dukat said, helping her to rise with the practise of a man who had been around pregnant women countless times. She did accept his help, but as soon as she stood, a little jerk of her shoulders made it clear he was to let go. Dukat sighed, then added: "Such a thing is impossible."
He spoke into his communicator, and they were transported to his Bird of Prey. Once he had escorted Kira to what served as their sickbay on that Klingon inconvenience, he returned to returned to the bridge, contacted Weyoun and told him he would be able to keep the rendezvous after all. After finishing the conversation, he was about to order Damar to open a channel to the Defiant so they could tell Sisko he had found the missing Major, when he heard her voice, as cold and hard as it had ever been.
"You Cardassian filth," she said.
He looked at her, barely holding herself together to stand in the frame of the lift unaided, and the irony became clear to him: she had probably forced herself to come to the bridge in order to thank him.
"You really shouldn't have done that, Major," Dukat said.
Damar looked shocked. "We can't let her go now," he declared. Damar was a good man, if somewhat too fond of stating the obvious. Kira tried to dive for the next bridge officer to get at his weapon, her body, swollen with the child as it was, failed her. After that, it was easy to bring her back to sickbay, in handcuffs this time. Dukat hadn't forgotten what she had said about Siluren Prin giving her a sedative. Obviously, she had some sort of immunity against these things.
"So now what?" she asked, glaring at him when he established an energy field between her bed and the rest of the medical facility, filled with potential weapons as it was. "Are you going to finish Prin's work before or after you betray the entire Quadrant to your new friends?"
As challenges went, this was one was not one of her most efficient, tired and drained as she looked. She reminded him of nobody as much as of Naprem shortly before Ziyal had been born. But she was still Kira Nerys, and he had never underestimated her.
"That depends on you, Major," he said. "You know I can't let you go back to the station now. But it's going to be only a few more weeks anyway. Try to be sensible. Once Cardassia has officially joined the Dominion, there is no reason for me to hold you captive any longer. I will let you go then. But if you insist on displaying your usual brand of heroism and make any attempt to stop me until then, I shall be forced to execute you."
"You would do that," she said contemptuously. "Kill a pregnant woman. I was a complete idiot ever to believe you were something more than a Cardassian butcher."
Strange; usually her insults alternatively amused him or left him cold. But he had not known that she had seen him differently. He wondered whether she realised the implication of what she had just said. But Dukat prided himself on being a practical man first and foremost.
"I, on the other hand, was never foolish enough to believe that you are anything but the most dangerous warrior I have ever met, Nerys," he replied. "I don't want to kill you. Believe it or not, I much prefer the universe with you in it. But I will kill you if you leave me no other choice."
"Don't call me Nerys," she said, then refused to talk to him anymore.
Dukat put on a good performance when talking to Sisko. No, he had found no trace of Kira, but obviously someone had killed Siluren Prin. Either she had been there, and wanted to be alone now, or Prin had killed by the true assassin, who was still at large, as was the Major. Did Sisko want him to investigate the other names on Odo's list?
"No," the Captain growled. "Yes. Look, Dukat, we need all the help we can get. We have to find her. For her sake, and the sake of the baby."
When he went on about Chief O'Brien and his wife, Dukat mentally stopped listening, though he made the appropriate noises and nodded when necessary. Even when he had still believed he could make a difference with a single bird of prey, and that being allied with Sisko and his lot was a good thing, he couldn't have cared less about O'Brien. Now Sisko was an equal, Odo he had always appreciated as an able and useful investigator, Garak was despicable but, as the fate of Dukat's father had proven, to be underestimated at one's peril, and the Doctor was interesting because Garak was interested in him. But O'Brien? Dullness personified. One could even blame him for the current mess, since he and his equally dull wife had not managed to do the natural thing and instead had somehow burdened Kira with their child. If Kira hadn't been pregnant, she would in all likelihood have tracked down Siluren Prin much sooner and dealt with him without a problem, their paths wouldn't have crossed, and everything would have gone as planned. Most importantly, Dukat wouldn't have been in a situation where he could be forced to kill a woman he had admittedly certain feelings for.
The first two days, Dukat gave Kira her food and drink while Damar stood guard with a phaser as long as the energy barrier was lowered. At the third, she had apparently realised that Sisko and her other friends had no idea where she was and would not come to her aid and deigned to talk to him again.
"Look," she said. "If it were just me, I wouldn't care. No, that's a lie - if it were just me, I'd have nailed your treacherous hide to the wall long ago. But I am responsible for this child. So until I have given birth, I will agree to your terms."
"Hm," Dukat returned. "And I should trust you because…?"
"You - trust me? That's a laugh, Dukat. You are the most untrustworthy, lying…," she flared up, and would undoubtedly have continued, if he had not cut her off.
"If you were in my place, Major, would you let someone like yourself roam about the ship, even with an escort?"
"I would never be in your place."
"Which is undoubtedly why I am about to become the leader of Cardassia, and you were wasting your talents playing Sisko's good little handmaiden."
"Is that why you're doing this?" she asked scornfully. "Dukat, all the ruling positions in the Dominion are already occupied by the Founders. Anyone else is a slave, with or without a title. You're selling everyone out for nothing."
"You have seen what has become of Cardassia," he started, then noted that against his better judgement, he had let himself be drawn into a political discussion with her. Abruptly, he turned away, gave Damar the signal to restore the energy barrier and left.
The meeting with Weyoun went as well as one could hope for, but it left him oddly unsatisfied. There was something in the Vorta's ingratiating manner that smacked of condescension. As opposed to what Kira might have thought, he was well aware that the Dominion was not exactly motivated by Cardassia's best interests. But they would cling to the pretense for a while, wanting other allies in the alpha quadrant as they did. The power of the Jem'Hadar would be available to push the Klingons back, and then to restore Cardassia to her former glory. And more. No more humiliating scraps from the Federation's table, oh no. Within a year, the Federation would be the one begging for scraps. And as for the Dominion, well, the Jem'Hadar were simple, if efficient thugs and a Vorta intellect could not compare to a Cardassian's. Of course, there were the Founders. One must be careful not to underestimate them. But Dukat had been able to deal with Odo, the only shapeshifter he had ever met. He would be able to deal with the others as well.
Still, there were some doubts, and they all sounded as if they were spoken in Kira's voice.
He had not told Weyoun that the Major was his prisoner, but somehow the Vorta had found out anyway. It was the first time Weyoun lost something of his pleasant façade.
"How interesting. And why haven't you killed her yet? I hope we didn't ally ourselves with a sentimentalist, Dukat."
"Hardly," Dukat replied. "She will be my messenger to Bajor and the Federation once everything is over. My… emissary."
"What acharming idea," the Vorta said. "But I still think eliminating an unnecessary risk would serve all our interests better."
"I will kill her if she makes a nuisance of herself. Not before."
"It might not be necessary," the Vorta said meaningfully. "Perhaps she dies in childbirth. What a messy, unpleasant way to give life. Cloning is a much safer process."
Bajoran women birth easily, Dukat wanted to say, but then thought better of it. Let the Vorta believe what he wanted.
Naturally, they had no midwife on board, and Roget, who served as their doctor, had lost his family due to a terrorist bombing during the occupation and flatly refused to help a Bajoran give birth. When Dukat told Kira, she bit her lips, but said:
"I don't want any of you to touch me anyway."
"Ah, but we don't always get what we want, Major," Dukat said. "As it turns out, the only two men on board who are married and have children are Damar and myself, and Damar was not present during a birth. Which means…"
"You have to be joking."
"This isn't how I imagined the two of us becoming intimate, either, Nerys," he said, amused.
"Anything you imagine makes me throw up. And don't call me Nerys."
It was a calculated risk. She was capable of trying something even after labour had started, but he had actually believed her when she said she felt responsible for the child. She would wait until it was born, and then… well, then they would see.
He had hot water prepared, sterilized instruments, and found himself sorely tempted to pace up and down while she rubbed her freed wrists and started to recite some Bajoran prayer he vaguely recognised. Which was ridiculous. It wasn't his child which was being born. It was not even her child, in her only because of some perverse trick of fate.
"Dukat," Kira said, "nothing must happen to this child. If anything goes wrong, you will wish I had killed you. You'll long for it."
It wasn't that different from what both his wife and Naprem had said under vastly different circumstances, and he found himself smiling.
"That's not funny."
"It is from this perspective," he said, quoting her own words back at her as he watched her carefully lying down. "Calm yourself, Major. I have no interest whatsoever in the baby."
"That's just it," she returned, and her usual aggression faded into deep seriousness. "There is something lacking in you, don't you sense that? Tell me, Dukat, did you ever care for anyone who wasn't your family or your lover?"
Somehow, a glib reply would not come. Wordlessly, he started massaging her back as he remembered his highly paid physician had done for Naprem. She did not snap at him, but for once, he saw no other implication in the fact she permitted his touch than the obvious one: this was a woman in labour who was tired and stressed out, without anyone at her side who should have been.
It took her a little more than three hours to give birth. During that time, they did not speak with each other very much, except for some questions he asked her about Ziyal, and which she answered. It did occur to him that Ziyal, who admired Kira, was probably mourning for her right now.
"I am grateful that you took care of my daughter," he said suddenly.
"I didn't do it for you, I did it for Ziyal."
When the child came, he heard her laughing, and wondered how often he had heard her laugh about something which made her happy. He still didn't understand why it should be this child, which wasn't hers and which she would have had to give up in any case. But he cleaned the baby from all remains of the carini. The human skin felt soft and very alien under his fingertips. He was about to hand it to her, when he heard something, only a slight noise, hardly anything at all when compared to the soft mewling of the baby. But he was a Cardassian, and he heard it. Rising his head abruptly, he saw her taking the scissors he had used.
"Don't," he said.
Sweaty and exhausted as she was, she looked worse than he had ever seen her, and that fire he noticed each time they met had never burned brighter in her eyes. They looked at each other in silence. Slowly, carefully, Dukat took a few steps back, away from her, put the baby down, and laid it in the bowl where there had been some water to wash her and it earlier.
"You would have killed me anyway," she said, and threw the scissors at an angle that would have cut the artery running through his neck if he had not reactivated the energy barrier when he had stepped back. She watched the scissors bouncing off, and the fleeting expression of surprise on her face made her look very young.
"Probably," he said, opened a drawer, and pulled out the gas filters he had prepared for such an occasion. After a heartbeat of hesitation, he took up the baby again, opened the door and handed it to Damar who had taken it upon himself to stand guard there. Damar's surprised expression hardly registered with Dukat as he sealed the doors again, and put on the filters before pushing the button that would flood the sick bay with the lethal gas that was part of the security system he had installed soon after capturing the ship. Then he took down the energy barrier.
She did try to throw herself at him, but again, her body failed her. The gas was quick; it was also designed to dissolve into harmless particles within an hour. She was supposed to die after only a few minutes, but she held on for almost thirty. During that time, she didn't ask for his help even once.
"Dukat," she whispered at last, when he held her again as he had done during her labour, "promise that you will bring that baby back to its parents."
He could have asked her what explanation he was supposed to give, but found himself not caring anymore.
"Yes," he said, then realised she had tricked him into opening his mouth before the hour was over. It was unlikely to harm him permanently, as the filters attached to his nose did dispense a counteragent the entire time, but it would cause severe hurt. A slight smile curled her lips as he watched her eyes break while she looked at him.
"Can't separate the two," she gasped. Before he could ask her what she had meant, she was gone.