TITLE: Default Victory AUTHOR: BGM CODES: Garak/Bashir RATING: R for language and concepts SUMMARY: Bashir plays dirty in order to win.... DISCLAIMER: Garak, Bashir and all things DS9 belong to Paramount and Viacom; the order of the words belongs to the author. COMMENTS: (editor's comments - this story is an answer to the 'talk dirty to me' challenge)

"This is the fourth game in a row, Doctor.  Are you sure you don't want to spare yourself further humiliation?"  Garak was poised over the board, looking questionally at his doctor-friend.

Bashir grimaced playfully.  "Just place them."

"Very well."  Garak sighed with resigned tolerance, placing the Kotra pieces on their designated place.  "I must say Doctor, when I offered to teach you the strategic art of Kotra, I had no idea you would come to enjoy the game so thoroughly."

Bashir concentrated on his side of the board, shaking his head at Garak's words.  "I don't care much for Kotra," he said bemusedly.  He reached for a piece and moved it across the board.  "Loeyven," he prompted.

Garak easily countered the move.  "Loeyseka.  Then why are we continuing our match?" he asked.

"Because I haven't beaten you yet, and I happen to hate losing.  Sekaloys," he announced, knocking one of Garak's pieces.

"Very good, Doctor," Garak said, apparently impressed by the unexpected boldness of Bashir's strategy.  He rearranged his pieces and formed a defense.  He hadn't addressed the doctor's evident need to beat him.  Garak simply found it amusing that this Human would find the confidence to claim victory in a game Garak happened to be very good at.  "Losevt Ari," Garak smirked.

Julian looked up.  "What the hell is Losevt Ari?"

"Primary defense," Garak explained ingratiatingly.  "Your pieces are helpless to move for three more rotations."

"Like Hell they are!"

Garak chuckled at Julian's outburst.  "Doctor, I detailed the rules upon our--"

"Doesn't matter, just play," Julian interrupted impatiently.

"My, aren't we competitive today," Garak simpered as he contemplated the board.  "I had no idea your spirit was so passionate at these types of challenges."

"It's just a game," Bashir dismissed.

"Yes.  One you're apparently taking very seriously at the moment."  Garak knocked two of Bashir's pieces aside.  "Eva.  Nora."  Garak moved his final piece through Bashir's side of the board.  "Victory."

Julian exhaled sharply in shock.  "Already?!"

Garak laced his fingers over the board.  "Mmyes, that was a rather brief round, wasn't it?" he smirked.  "Don't look so defeated, Doctor.  I've been playing this game since I was five years old."  He cleared the pieces,  deciding to end their sparring match.  "All you require is practice," he added.

"Don't patronize me, Garak."  Bashir realized what the Cardassian was doing and reached across the board to arrest his movement.  Garak looked up, startled at the doctor's audacity.  "We're not finished yet, and we still have an hour to go.  Place them again."

Garak sighed, no longer amused.  "How much more of this will you take before you admit failure, Doctor?  Ten more games?  Twenty?"  Garak began to place the pawns over the base.  When Bashir's eyes remained doggedly on the board, Garak shrugged.  "Suit yourself, then."

A little more than ten minutes had passed before Garak's turn came.  He studied the board carefully, leaning casually on his fist as he reached for a piece.  He interrupted himself when he heard Bashir murmur something under his breath.  "Pardon me?"

Bashir looked up, all innocence.  "What?"

"Did you say something, Doctor?  I'm afraid I couldn't understand ..."

"Just play.  You're obviously hearing things."

Miffed at the easy dismissal, Garak retracted his hand and frowned in concentration.  Kotra required a moderate amount of it in order to claim victory, and Bashir's supposed non-existent chatter had broken it.

He reached forward again.

"I'd like to slide my tongue down your cock."

Garak nearly knocked his own piece off the board.  "I most certainly heard *that*!" he accused, glaring at Bashir with a mixture of shock and curiosity.

Julian sighed impatiently.  "Garak, are you playing or not?  Waiting for you to make a move is really tiresome."

"I would, if you'd stop this childish game."  Garak purposefully moved his hand, his eyes on Bashir.  When no words were forthcoming, he slid his piece across the board ...

"Then I'd take it in my mouth, all the way in ..."

Garak let go of his piece, feeling a weakness in his body at the explicit statement.  He looked up at Bashir.  "Is this a new strategy I wasn't aware of?  Do you think you can distract me with that sort of behavior?" he drawled, attempting to gather his scattered wits.

"You haven't declared your move, Garak."

The Cardassian waved his hand imperiously.  "That's because I haven't made one."

"Yes you have."  Bashir pointed leisurely at the board.

Garak followed the movement and felt the breath catch in his throat.  He'd moved the piece but not to where he wanted.  He cursed, muttering 'Loysven' under his breath.

Smiling, Bashir plucked his piece and hopped it to an adjacent position. "Loyseka," he said calmly.

"Yesss, indeed," Garak said dangerously.  He waiting far longer to make his move this time, watching Bashir covertly.  So this was his game.  The Human thought he could distract him?  What a laugh.  Determined not to let the lecherous suggestions bother him, Garak envisioned his next move and reached for his piece.

"I'd let you push me over the replimat table."

Garak closed his eyes.  He clutched the piece so tightly, the sharp edges drew blood.  He moved it deliberately.

"I'd arch beneath you, crying for more ..."

Garak's hand begun trembling.

"I'd open up for you, spread my legs and thrust myself back against your cock."

Garak began to descend the piece on its designated place.

"Wouldn't you like to take me, Garak?  In front of my colleagues?  Fucking me until I was weak in the knees and you'd have to wrench my hair back to hold me against you while you--"

Garak slammed the piece down, but it slid in his sweaty palm and positioned itself far from where he wanted it to be.  "Curses, Doctor," he rasped.

"Was that your declaration?"

"NORA!" he yelled in irritation.

Bashir smiled and pushed one of his pieces behind the nora designation. "Eva."  With a triumphant glint in his eyes, he knocked two of Garak's pieces.

Garak inhaled deeply.  The game was interesting now, this he had to admit. Not only that, the fact that Julian was shamelessly winning was grating at his already frayed nerves.  How dare he?  More importantly, why was he letting himself be so distracted in the first place?  "I'm sure there's a rule about silence," he muttered.

"I checked."

"Of course you did."  Garak breathed in again, determined to calm himself.  He clamped his hand over a piece and moved it.  There.  There, he was doing it.  The pawn squealed against the metal so tightly he held it against the board.  Almost there.  And ... voila!

"I'd even let you tie me up in bed, so you could spread my legs and fuck me with your big, Cardassian cock," Julian breathed.

The piece went flying from Garak's hand and landed on his den table with a sad little tinkle.  Bashir followed it with wide surprised eyes.  "Was that a legal move?"

"No," Garak bristled.  With one sweep of his hand he cleared the table, board, pieces and all.  "What's more, I'm not sure the next one will be either."  He grabbed the young doctor by the collar and pulled him over the table, crushing his mouth against those pliant lips.

When they parted, Julian smiled.  "Garak?"

"What?"

"Victory," he whispered, drawing Garak down with him.

*End*

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