DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek: Deep Space Nine characters are the
property of Paramount
Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and
property of C. Zdroj and are copyright (c) 2004 by C. Zdroj. This story
is Rated NC-17.
by C. Zdroj
Written for the DS9agogo Ficathon for
Haisley (sparrowinsky), who asked for Kira/Garak or Kira/Quark. Those
who know me well will have no trouble predicting which one I chose.
Ahem. There is a teeny, tiny bit of angst here, but I don't think it
qualifies as sappy. Mostly, this is just smut, pure and simple. If
Ferengi-sex squicks you, stay away.
Pairings: Kira/Quark, Kira/Bareil implied
Summary: Kira and Quark play some games.
Quark knew he was in trouble the moment she came striding--well, stalking, actually--into his bar.
Her whole body was rigid with barely suppressed fury, and the
expression on her face promised swift retribution for anyone foolish
enough to get in her way.
The barkeeper set about mixing a stardrifter while trying not to lick
his lips in anticipation.
Kira Nerys took her seat in cold silence. Quark placed the drink before
her without a word.
She deigned to notice him for the first time. "I suppose you expect me
to drink that."
"Well, admittedly it is a little early," said Quark with a shrug. "But
drinking is generally what people do in here. When someone comes in and
seats herself at the bar, I tend to assume she wants a drink."
"Don't you usually wait for the customer to order before you try to cheat them?" Kira
asked. She was still obviously pissed off about something, but snarling
at Quark seemed to have taken the edge off her bad mood.
"‘Cheat' is an ugly word, Major. I prefer not to use it in the bar."
Kira smiled wryly. "Afraid of jinxing your next deal?" She turned the
glass on the counter-top as she spoke, seeming to study its contents.
"I didn't know you were superstitious, Quark."
"I'm not," he told her. "I just think it's good business practice not to put certain ideas into my
Kira picked up the drink and held it aloft for a moment. "Oh? And what
ideas would those be?" Her drink remained poised in the air. She held
it almost like a weapon, Quark noted. Well, she would, after all. He briefly
wondered if she meant to throw it at him. There was a perverse part of
his mind that hoped she would.
Instead, she lowered the glass to her lips and drank, watching him over
the rim. Then she set it back down. "How did you know what I wanted?"
Her expression held a challenge.
"I saw it in your eyes the moment you walked in, Major," said Quark
with mock sweetness.
"You always order a stardrifter first thing in the morning when you get
back from Bajor," he added with a shrug. "Why should today be any
Kira's expression shifted a bit, from amusement to surprise.
"A good bar-tender always notices these things," Quark assured her.
Turning away from her momentarily, he finally did lick his lips. He
must handle this next bit very carefully.
As Kira raised the glass and drank once more, Quark leaned on the bar
and said with deliberate casualness. "I take it that your shore-leave
with Vedek Bareil didn't exactly go as planned ..." He let the words
Kira set the drink down on the bar and met Quark's gaze evenly, her
dark eyes taking on a dangerous gleam. "I think I've warned you about
making inquiries into my personal life, Quark."
She said his name as if it were a cuss-word. Quark suppressed a shiver
"Forgive me, Major if I seem ... overly concerned. It's just that for
someone who's recently returned from a long vacation, you hardly seem
to be very ... relaxed."
Kira's smile was deadly. "And you think you can do something about it?"
"I make it a point to give my regular customers very good ... service,
Kira appeared to consider this, running her finger around the rim of
her now half-empty glass. "Still like women in uniform, don't you,
Quark?" she said quietly.
Quark lowered his voice to conspiratorial level. "Even better out of uniform, Major."
Kira raised her head to look at him once more. He'd expected a glare.
That would have been typical of her. Instead her look was more ...
considering. She finished her drink without taking her eyes off Quark's
face. Then she set the glass pointedly down in front of him.
"Perhaps we'll see you later, Major," Quark said with a sly grin.
"Perhaps you will," agreed Kira, not smiling at all.
Then she got up and left the bar. Quark watched her retreating back--or
rather, her ass--until she was out the door.
Rather unsurprisingly, Quark was completely unable to concentrate for
the rest of the morning. When at last he relinquished the afternoon
shift to his next-to-useless brother, Rom--with the customary token
show of reluctance and standard warnings about paycheck deductions
should any catastrophe occur in his absence--he found himself strangely
relieved to be out of the bar.
He went back to his quarters all but quivering with
anticipation--anticipation that he tried to block from his conscious
He couldn't afford to get carried away with waiting and hoping. Let
alone fantasizing. And above all he must not make any preparations, to
himself or to the room. It would be ... unwise to give her any hint
that he'd been waiting.
Besides, she might not even show up. She did that sometimes--teased him
with implied promises and then simply walked away--just to piss him
off. There was always the possibility that today was one of those times.
Yet Quark could not believe that he had mis-read her so completely. Her
body language had told him all he needed to know about her
just-concluded vacation with the most-reverend Vedek Bareil. Quark
rolled his eyes at the thought of the man. He had no doubt that the
good vedek had proved a singular disappointment in the bedroom. Quark
Poor Nerys, he reflected. So deluded in her choice of mates. It
required more than godly humility and a pretty face--well, pretty by
Bajoran standards, he supposed--to accommodate her ... appetites. And
whether she wanted to admit it or not, a Ferengi was probably far more
suited to them than some self-denying holy man. On some level, she had
to know that--or she wouldn't keep coming back here. To him.
Quark made himself sit down to wait, taking his copy of The Annotated
Rules of Acquisition to his favorite chair. It would do him no good,
after all, to pace a track into his new and rather expensive carpet.
He even tried to read. Ordinarily, money was almost as arousing to him
as sex itself, and so The Rules of Acquisition usually suited him as
well as any porno-vid. Usually. He was feeling ready to fling the book
across the room when he finally heard the long-anticipated chime of his
Quark forced himself to wait for three or four seconds before calling,
He didn't bother to get up from the chair. He heard Kira step into the
room and then stop as the door hissed closed behind her. When he
finally did look up from his book, she was leaning back against the
now-sealed door, arms folded expectantly across her chest, looking
oh-so-luscious in that form-fitting red jumpsuit of hers. Really, Quark
thought, whoever was designing the uniforms for the Bajoran Militia
these days ought to be fined under the Bajoran decency code.
"Is this how you greet all of your guests, Quark?" Kira inquired,
"Sitting on your ass?"
Quark set down The Annotated Rules of Acquisition. "Well, I did invite
you in--though you didn't bother calling ahead to let me know you were
coming. Am I supposed to be psychic, Major? Perhaps you could instruct
me as to where my hospitality is lacking."
He got no further before Kira had sauntered over to his chair and,
without invitation, began stroking his earlobes with the kind of
firmness and surety that was only a breath away from being rough.
"That's exactly what I'm here
for, you little troll," she informed him in a low, husky voice, "to instruct you in your manners ..."
She was saying something else, only by now Quark couldn't hear her due
to his own gasps and moans of pleasure. Her fingers clamped down hard
around his throbbing lobes and he squealed in pain and pleasure,
falling forward out of the chair and onto his hands and knees to the
floor. He suspected that Kira had "helped" him out of his seat with a
push, but he couldn't be sure. Either way, he didn't care. Let the games begin ... he thought.
"Take your clothes off. Now," said Kira. Her tone made it an order.
"And I don't want to see you touching yourself while you do it," she
added, with a deliberate hint of threat.
Quark scrambled to obey, drawing deep breaths to steady himself, to
keep himself from tripping over his clothing as he struggled out of it.
His pants and underwear proved particularly annoying, owing to the
swelling of the cock that Kira had expressly warned him not to touch.
Very, very carefully, Quark liberated his penis without laying a finger
on it, only to be further hampered by the shoes he had all but
forgotten he was wearing.
Only when he was finally naked did he dare to raise his eyes to look at
Kira, who seemed to tower over him. She had removed the upper portion
of her red body-suit, and Quark could see her nipples clearly outlined
in the thin white fabric of her under-tunic. She grinned evilly at him
and then pulled the undershirt over her head, allowing Quark to admire
her breasts for the space of about two seconds.
Then she flung the white shirt into a corner with the red top that had
"Now," she said, her voice softer now, but still commanding, "I want
you to take my pants off."
Quark moved forward, eager to comply.
"On your knees!" Kira rapped out.
Quark sank to his knees. With trembling hands, he reached up to undo
the clasp of her trousers and oh-so-slowly draw them down. She lifted
each foot in turn so that he could remove her boots along with the
pants. Finally she stood before him completely naked except for the
thin wisp of silk that was her panties.
"Well, Mr. Quark," said Kira. "Where's your entrepreneurial spirit? Why
don't you do something to amuse me? Just keep your hands off that
cock," she reminded him. "Or I might have to punish you ..." There was
something like affection buried in the taunt.
Quark nodded slowly and put his hands on Kira's hips. His lobes tingled
with the unmistakable awareness of ... opportunity. The opportunity to
level the playing field in this little game, to make her surrender to
his desires just as he had surrendered to hers. He began by opening his
mouth and dragging his tongue up from her knee and around to the inside
of her thigh. He paused for a breath, then let his tongue brush slowly
over the crotch of those Andorian silk panties, directly over her
vulva. He could taste and smell the wetness of her. He heard Kira gasp
at the contact. He ran his tongue over the same patch of wet silk
again, and heard her murmur, "Oh yes ..."
Still very carefully, he raised his hands to her ass cheeks and
squeezed her buttocks slowly as his tongue made yet another pass. This
time, he felt Kira's hips jerk slightly against him in a stifled effort
to thrust. Chuckling inwardly, he let his tongue explore more intently
and felt the hard nub of her clit through the now-soaked fabric. He
teased at it until Kira groaned openly, then he let his fingers close
around her panties, crumpling them as he drew them down and then tore
them off her with a sudden, savage yank.
Her hands had descended to his lobes and were squeezing gently,
encouraging. Quark put his face between Kira's thighs and pushed his
tongue up inside her, flicking in and out of her wet center briefly
before returning to explore the folds of her labia and tease once more
at her clit. Kira groaned again, then swore aloud and twisted Quark's
lobes in her hands. In return, Quark squeezed her ass-cheeks, pushing
his face into her and sliding his tongue deep inside. Kira shrieked
with rage and delight, then roughly shoved Quark away from her.
He landed on his ass and stayed there for a moment, panting. Kira still
stood over him, her chest heaving, her body flushed pink from head to
toe in her rising excitement. She put one hand to her breast and
squeezed it slowly, taunting him as she drew her hands over her body.
In retaliation, Quark grabbed his cock in both hands and began to
squeeze and stroke himself.
In an instant, Kira was on him, just as he'd know she would be,
slamming him to his back on the floor, pinning his arms out to either
side, straddling his hips with her own.
"I think I told you ... not to do that," she hissed in his ear, just
before her lips crushed his and her tongue began to plunder the inside
of his mouth.
For the first second or two, Quark lay passive under her assault,
moaning softly into her mouth, hyper-aware of the slickness between her
thighs as she rubbed herself against his taut, aching cock. Then,
instinctively, his hips began to twitch and then to buck.
Kira tore herself away from his mouth, and Quark froze as she glared
down at him with a look that he couldn't read. Eyes locked with his,
mouth set in a hard little line, she held him down and she grasped his
prick, angling him toward her waiting opening. Quark watched her eyes
close briefly as her wetness began to engulf him, as he slid,
centimeter by centimeter, into her heat. She took him slowly, her
breathing soft and shallow as she gradually pushed herself down on him.
They groaned together.
Quark shut his own eyes and tried to lie still, but soon he was lost in
his own biological imperatives, and began to thrust his hips upward
against hers. "Yes ..." Kira hissed, still holding his arms to the
floor, her fingers tightening around his wrists. "Prophets, yes ...
fuck me, Quark. Fuck me, you damn little troll ..."
He began to move against her, slowly at first, simply letting his hips
roll. Kira sighed and then groaned. They writhed together on the floor
for what seemed an interminable length of time.
Then, he felt her grip on his wrists loosen slightly as the first wave
of her orgasm began to kick in. Quark let instinct take over, let his
thrusts grow stronger. Kira groaned again and trembled above him, her
vulva clenching around him in spasms. He felt the subtle waves of her
body's response, the softening and re-tensing of her muscles, the
breathing that became ever more rapid.
He waited for the moment, drew a deep breath, then gently rolled the
two of them over in one smooth movement. On top of Kira now, Quark
paused to catch his breath and adjust position inside her.
Kira did not complain about the abrupt shift in position, merely
growled "Fuck me ...!" once again through clenched teeth.
"With pleasure ... Major," Quark panted, and began to thrust into her
for all he was worth. Kira's hands immediately found his lobes and
squeezed hard. Quark squealed and rammed himself into her depths again
and again, matching the rhythm of her thrusts, savoring the pleasure
spikes that shot through his body every time she twisted and squeezed
his lobes, her fingernails digging into the sensitive tissue with every
stroke of his cock.
In the last few minutes of their fucking, Quark was oblivious to
everything but the haze of his own pleasure. He felt the sweat-slick
warmth of Kira's skin under his hands, smelled the musk that coated
both their bodies, rode the desperate rise and fall of her undulating
hips, and finally heard her harocat-shriek of pleasure as she found
release. His orgasm came mere seconds later, and Quark squealed as he
thrust into her over and over, fighting to empty the last drops of
himself into the endless well of her heat. He had a brief view of her
body arching high, her breasts rising like pale half-moons before his
bleary vision, and then he collapsed on top of her.
Eventually, she shook him off and left him on the floor as she rose
without a word to find the shower and clean herself up. He offered no
comment as she emerged from the tiny room, damp and wrapped in a towel,
to pick up her clothing from the floor.
Quark had repaired to a sofa and watched her idly, admiringly her lithe
movements as she dressed: her legs, her ass. He smiled and flicked one
finger idly against his now flaccid cock, reflecting that if this
floor-show continued much longer he might be in serious trouble. He
could already feel a new arousal tingling in the roots of his penis.
As if reading his mind, Kira turned to glare at him. She had replicated
a new pair of panties, and at the moment, this was all that clothed her.
Quark let out a low whistle. "Put a pair of high-heeled boots on with
that, Major, and I might not be able to restrain myself."
For a moment, he thought she was going to smile back at him. But
evidently she thought better of it and pressed her lips into a grimace.
"Some other time, maybe."
Then, to his surprise, she sauntered up to him and gave his right lobe
a brief caress. He reached up and circled one of her nipples with his
thumb, teasing it gently to firmness. Kira shut her eyes and let out a
brief sigh. Then she pushed his hand away and straightened herself.
She made her voice hard. "Of course, if any of what happened here ever
leaves this room, there won't be
any other times."
Quark waved his hand dismissively. "Perish the thought, Major. I like
to think of myself as the soul of discretion." He paused. "I really am
sorry," he began, "... about you and ..."
Bareil. The name was on the
tip of his tongue. But her glare stopped the word cold in his throat.
"I didn't come here to discuss my personal life, Quark."
"Whatever you say."
She nodded, then turned to finish dressing herself. She said nothing
else to him as she checked her appearance in the bathroom mirror and
turned to leave.
Quark's words made her pause at the door. "Until next time, then,
She nodded. "Until next time." The lack of hostility in her voice made
it sound rather odd to his ear.
Then she left. Quark watched the door hiss closed behind her.
Author's Notes: Thanks to the
coordinators of the DS9agogo Ficathon and to sparrowinsky for this
particular challenge. I'd been noodling on some Kira/Quark ideas before
I got this assignment, just because the idea appeals to my twisted
little mind, but I'm sure that it would have taken me much longer to
finish and post something without the challenge as a goad. I warn you
all that you've created a monster, though. I'm pretty sure this won't
be my last Kira/Quark story.