He tells people it’s “100% genuine dalmatian tribble fur” to creep them out, but it’s totally replicated.
He insists Cruella DeVil was “tragically misunderstood” and that she would have “put the puppies to better economic use” just to annoy the hell out of Julian. Julian gets him back by singing Disney songs at him.
Dukat walked into Quark’s and ordered a glass of Bajoran spring wine. He looked around as the Ferengi prepared his drink, and spotted Garak and the Doctor sharing a meal not too far away.
How vulgar, he thought with a sniff. Garak and his human, such brazen a display. He was never like that. He was suave and subtle and smooth.
“I can’t believe you humans have such dangerous animals and never weaponized them!”
Dukat quickly whipped his head around. Dangerous Terran wildlife? What could the tailor be babbling about now?
“Garak, butterflies aren’t dangerous!” the doctor laughed.
“Not to humans, no, but to other species…”
Dukat frowned. He had never heard of “butterflies.” Was it some sort of secret Terran biological weapon? He didn’t like the sound of that. Quickly polishing off his drink, the Gul made his way back to his temporary quarters to do some research.
—
Garak was bent over his worktable, examining the beadwork on a coat, when Dukat walked in.
“I need a word with you, Garak”
“I don’t. Please leave, you are ruining the ambiance.” Elim replied, not even looking up from his work.
“What was that I heard you talking to your pet doctor about?”
“You’ll have to be more specific, my boyfriend and I talk about a lot of things. 10th century Cardassian poetry? The recent classical revival trends in Trill music? The use of nettles in Betazoid haute cuisine? Or maybe you want a critique of postmodern Andorian theater?”
“I didn’t come here to hear you babble about inane trivialities!” Dukat snapped. “I came here to ask about butterflies!”
“Really now Skrain, eavesdropping on me and the doctor? Have you no manners? What will your mother say!” Garak commented with mock offense, clutching a string of pearls to his chest.
Dukat took a deep breath. Guls, Garak was determined to try his patience. “You said they were ‘dangerous’ and I need to know what you were talking about. They looked innocent enough, on the database.”
“Oh. Those.” Garak shrugged. “I thought you already knew, but I guess your clearance isn’t high enough. Butterflies are deadly to Cardassians.”
“What?!”
“The Order found out ages ago!” Garak rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you didn’t know. And you call yourself a Gul. No wonder they demoted you.”
Dukat’s eyes narrowed. This had to be another of Garak’s dirty tricks. The creatures in the database did not look anywhere near dangerous. Delicate and colorful, perhaps, but not dangerous.
He turned and left the shop.
—
“Doctor, a word?” Dukat called as he entered the infirmary. Julian turned and tilted his head. He’s started to move like a Cardassian, the Gul observed. Too bad he doesn’t spend more time with the better ones. Like him.
“About the butterflies, doctor.”
“Oh, those” Julian shrugged. “Yes, it seems their mere presence causes severe autoimmune reactions in Cardassians.”
“Really?” Garak may be a consummate liar, but Bashir certainly wasn’t.
“Oh, yes, I’m running some tests right now.” Julian waved at a bank of computers and test tubes. “It seems butterflies drop a fine dust wherever they go. In small doses they can cause difficulties in breathing, scale and skin lesions, and, ah, prUt dysfunction.”
Dukat stepped back. PrUt dysfunction? He wasn’t going to risk that.
“It gets worse. Over time they cause heart and liver problems, impotence, and eventually, delirium and death. Strangest reaction I’ve ever seen.” Julian added with a shrug.
“Such a pity,” the doctor continued with a sigh, seemingly unaware of his visitor’s gradual exit. “I wanted to take Garak to Earth but it looks like I can’t.”
—
Dukat spent the rest of his day requesting classified files from Cardassia, but found they were either too vague, or, as Garak had remarked, above his clearance level.
The Gul put his hands over his face. Part of him wanted to dismiss this all at patent nonsense, but another part couldn’t help acknowledge that Garak had been privy to a lot of things as Tain’s former protégé. He wasn’t going to risk it.
Suddenly the computer pinged. It was an old field report.
“Agent [redacted] confirms presence of butterflies on [redacted]. [Redacted] hazards confirmed. Terminate all [redacted] and initiate quarantine protocol sigma”
Dukat stared at the screen, blinking at the incompletely redacted report. Quarantine protocol sigma? It seems Bashir’s assessment of the hazard wasn’t in error. Suddenly he remembered Bashir’s list of health effects. PrUt dysfunction. Impotence. And he had entered the infirmary without taking precautions! Foolish! He quickly stood up and made a beeline for the refresher, throwing his clothes into the replicator for recycling as he went. Later he’d have to put in a request for room sanitation.
—
Molly O'brien skipped along the Promenade, showing everyone the latest gift from her grandmother on Earth.
Dukat’s eyes bulged. Chief O'Brien’s child was holding a jar of butterflies! This could not be a mere coincidence. The “Hero of Setlik III” was clearly up to something.
“It’s a butterfly kit.” she cheerfully proclaimed. “Mommy says we’re going to release them into the arboretum later and they’ll have babies and we’ll have butterflies there forever!”
Unable to restrain himself, the Gul ran screaming out of the station.
In the overhead walkway, Garak gave Julian a sly smile as they walked hand in hand. “Looks like we got him” he grinned.
“You’re terribly sexy when you’re devious.” Julian remarked, squeezing his partner’s hand and giving him a peck on the cheek.
@cyrelia-j: behold, another fine product of Weird Ideas R Us.
With help from
pattroughton (thank you just really really much all over again!) I got my hands on Crimson Shadow. I’m not even going to say how married they were (very married), I was just happy to read Garak having a long-term healthy relationship, ahhhh *3*
I fucking CAN’T. I can talk FOREVER about this storyline; the storyline of Kira as a freedom fighter of an oppressed people. Who grows out of her rage and sees how much more complex the universe is and who eventually ends up teaching her fucking oppressors the same rebel techniques she learned. Fucking Deep Space 9, man
Cecil. She/her. During the day I sit in libraries staring at books. During the night I write queer fanfiction with a historical slant.
Some not-so-random facts: Gay space lizards are the best lizards. Star Trek is my life. I have too many DS9 ships. Classic Who and the Eighth Doctor Adventures make me grin stupidly. Kelas Parmak is the best. I will defend historically accurate portrayals of Alan Turing to the last drop of blood. Likes and asks end up in the name of @apolesens-otheraccount, because Tumblr doesn't have a way of changing which blog is your primary one. Nothing happens over there - this is the one to follow.
