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Chapter Text

“You're never going to get away with this." Julian Bashir looks at the four of them from behind the force field. He's seated uncomfortably on the floor still not quite understanding how he ended up here. The last thing he remembers is speaking with the tall brunette- nice eyes- at the station bar. It was a simple stopover on their way to deliver the bolts of Tholian silk. It was his first trip with the crew of the Moa to be exact and his parents had fretted something awful about it. His father had found him a nice enough position from a friend of a friend and at the time it seemed to terribly boring to be assisting an aging station doctor on Beltane IX. Not when the Moa was in need of a doctor for some of their long distance runs and while they couldn't pay well it afforded a chance to really live the spacer's life.

Julian thinks as the man with the mustache takes a step forward, arms crossed, that Beltane might have been a better option after all. Lord knows, his father will never let him hear the end of it once he pays whatever ransom they're likely to-

"This is the doctor, hm? The one who couldn't keep his eyes off of you? The one you said was interested hm? He doesn't look like much of a doctor to me. He looks like another guy you picked up off the station who won't do anything except try and steal our latinum and eat our food mmhm." The man speaks quickly, pacing a moment, glaring at the woman. She had said that night her name was Lauren but Julian doesn't know that he ought to believe the word of the woman that drugged him and had the rest drag him here.

On closer study, Julian isn't quite sure who'd have brought him. Granted he's hardly more than a wheelbarrowful as his aunt would say back on Earth but between the delicate blonde woman staring at him intently- him or the wall behind him he isn't quite certain-, the heavyset older man shuffling forward uncertainly, or the leader? himself there aren't a lot of options. He supposes that's one of those questions he's going to have to let go. Right Julian. Just see what they want, stay calm. They haven't hurt you yet and if they were going to they surely would have already.

"Airlock!" The man with the mustache yells all of a sudden making Julian almost fall backwards by the ferocity.

"I... I beg your pardon?" Julian stammers suddenly far less certain of the situation.

"Jack-" Lauren- until he hears otherwise he's just going to call her Lauren- warns stepping forward. 

"He," Jacks points at him accusing looking agitated, "is not a doctor! I know doctors, mmhm, I know their look, I know their eyes and he hm is not a doctor." He looks at Julian suddenly, or rather impressively box jumps right up on a crate to look down at Julian almost comically. "Why did you tell her you were a doctor? You had to know we'd find out. You had to know you weren't fooling anyone."

"I am a doctor, Julian replies calmly though feeling a bit irritated at the man's ridiculous display of dominance. "And you're not a bird so I don't see why you need to stand up there just to talk to me."

"I'm not a bird, I'm the captain. Look up, a display of dominance. You couldn't get up here like this, could you?" He's crouched down, peering down at Julian with a squint look. Julian stands up irrationally to feel a bit taller.

"I could climb up there," he says defensively not sure why he's even having this ridiculous conversation. 

"I told you he was a doctor, Jack. Doctor Julian Bashir. I checked his credentials quite thoroughly. I think he'll do. He has good hands. He has doctor's hands. Don't you, Julian?" 

Attention darting quizzically and a bit uncomfortably with that scrutiny and the way she half purred at him, Julian nods. 

"Er... yes I suppose but I'm afraid my parents are in a bit of a spot with money, My father owes quite a tidy sum of credits so ah... you may find keeping me costs you more than any ransom they can pay right now.”

"Airlock!" Jack declares again doing a backflip from the crate back to the floor making Julian's eyes go wide. He watches Jack straighten out, a rather odd suspicion beginning to settle upon him as Jack brushes off the elaborate brown captain's jacket. He didn't think one could still find epaulets on a coat. He's also becoming rather unnerved at the idea that they just might space him on the whim of the madman in charge.

"We can't do that, Jack, remember what Dr. Loews told us?" The older man pipes up all of a sudden looking nervous, voice high and childish. "Don't open the airlock with people inside." Dr. Loews? Dr. Loews, I know I've heard that name before but I can't quite place it.

"I don't see Nurse Ratched here, Patrick, do you? Does anyone? Hm? No? No nurse Ratched, no doctors, no walls just us and our latinum and space and Dr. Bashir if that's your real name Dr. Bashir."

"It is," Julian answers trying to remain collected, quite sure now that he's dealing with some sort of loony bin parade. He looks at Lauren, seemingly the less... violent and more reasonable of the bunch. "So ah... I assure you the airlock isn't necessary, and if you er... are in need of a doctor..." He looks at the blonde woman who still hasn't spoken. "Is she ill... does... does she need a doctor perhaps?" He looks hopeful, probably pitifully so but he really hadn't planned on waking up on a ship of pirates when he'd gotten up this morning so he's sure some of that can be forgiven.

"Don't ask her. Why are you asking her? I'm the captain of this ship not her." Jack is pacing, arms crossed biting his index finger as his eyes dart back and forth between the both of them. His eyes are never still, and Julian notes absently that his eyes are nearly the same hazel as his own. His brown hair is wild, the mustache seemingly some "suave" affectation or another and Julian almost could bizarrely imagine him in some ancient mariner's tale. He sighs inwardly. This really is going to take all of his charm.

"Right, I'm sorry I'm just a bit confused."

"Well you shouldn't be. You're in there and we're out here and I'm the captain and I'm throwing you in the airlock," he turned to Patrick, "and I'm opening it."

"We need a doctor Jack, we agreed it was on the list,” Lauren argues.

“Not the airlock,” Patrick wails. Julian is inclined to agree with him. The blonde woman hasn’t said much of anything merely approaching closer before turning back around slowly. He doesn’t imagine she’ll be much help.

"We need a doctor not a playboy who's going to throw everything out of order. This is a well oiled machine not a holonovel, we need a worker, a real go getter, a guy who knows his stuff, that this arrogant upstart here hm? You remember Roger? Roger was a doctor. Roger didn't work out because Roger couldn't keep his hands to himself, so, Airlock!" Julian practically hears the capitalization of airlock as he steps right up to the forcefield.

“If you think for one moment I’m letting you space me-”

“He’s a mutant, like us Jack,” Lauren interrupts and Julian almost thoughtlessly rushes the door at just what’s she’s implying. Lauren is calm, her eyes moving slowly between him and Jack. Jack’s eyes narrow.

“He’s a mutant? Can’t be. He’s a doctor. Genetically enhanced people can’t be doctors. You know that, I know that. So he’s either lying about being a doctor or lying about being a mutant hm...” Jack approaches the force field, studying Julian carefully. “Which is it hm? You know you can’t lie to us because we are enhanced and we can see right through you.” He waggled his fingers at Julian who isn’t impressed. He decides to treat Jack with the same lack of urgency as Lauren.

“I’m both. You can check my credentials at your leisure.” Julian takes a breath, looking away to the wall feeling hesitant. “I am genetically enhanced but most people don’t know about it,” he says softly.

“But you weren’t at the Institute,” Patrick protests and Julian’s attention immediately goes to him. The Institute! That’s where they’re from! Julian swallows, almost afraid to look at them all now. He’s all too familiar with the unlucky ones who didn’t turn out like him, who couldn’t integrate, who could adapt. He looks at the blonde woman. The ones who had issues... And if they’re here that means they escaped their handler or whatever. Why hasn’t this been broadcast? Why isn’t there an alert? Surely I’d have remembered that. No, that’s not right, there was an alert. There was an alert three years ago and Julian had always just assumed they were-

“The cube root of three hundred twenty nine, what is it?”

“Six point nine zero three,” Julian answers automatically and almost claps a hand over his mouth. 

“See, he’s a mutant, all right,” Lauren says with a big triumphant grin. Jack still looks irritated. There’s hardly any point in denying it anyhow. He sighs. 

“That’s why I didn’t try and join Starfleet. It was safer that way.” It had been his dream of course but when one had spent a lifetime trying hard not to stand out... Really, he was thankful that he was able to study and get a medical license at all though his father had to get a bit creative. He looks at them all frowning hoping perhaps he might be able to reason with them. “I’m no one special, I’m just a doctor who should be on the Moa not here on the... the whatever this ship is called.”

“The Morning Glory,” Jack declares proudly with a puff of his chest and Julian prays that his face is completely blank as the first stupid thing that pops into his head is some old Earth slang and he swallows hard, voice a bit tight as he asks, “like the flower, right?”

“Of course like the flower,” Jack answers looking at him like he’s an idiot while Lauren smirks behind him. Julian almost literally bites his tongue.

“You don’t like it,” Patrick says far too shrewdly and Julian blanches.

“It doesn’t matter if our prisoner doesn’t like it, it’s a fine name and we took a vote. That’s democratic, that’s the Captain showing his benevolence to the crew, we’ll have no mutinies around here! mmhm. Are you trying to start a mutiny?” he accuses and Julian almost pinches the bridge of his nose wondering if the universe isn’t having some grand joke at his expense. 

“Perhaps you ought to ask your second in command there about the name,” Julian answers deadpan. Jack whirls around looking at Lauren who answers that it’s a fine name with a toss of her head. This is getting nowhere quickly and while Julian hardly has an intention of trying to dramatically thwak anyone over the head with an iron and steal the ship, he really would like to be out of the holding cell so he can eat something and use the restroom.

“I’m a fine doctor,” Julian answers with that “boyish grin” his mother likes to compliment him on, not turning down the wattage when Jack glares daggers at him. “And I would be delighted to serve on your ship,” he says thinking the first damn port they make he’s running like hell to the authorities and never looking back.

“Aw no no no, we’ll have no mutiny here, loverboy,” Jack says looking between Julian and Lauren suspiciously. “Is that why you brought him here? Your boytoy and the new ship’s captain hm? Mutiny gets the airlock!” Jack declares, the entire time not having ceased his pacing.

“No airlock!” Patrick yells and Julian catches the blonde woman walking in front of him just as Jack approaches the cell seeming like he’s really going to drag him out of there. Julian takes a deep breath, almost feeling like he’s dealing with an entire room full of children. 

He beams that smile at Jack, deliberately paying Lauren little mind. Admittedly, she intimidates him a bit- she had the night he met her and he’s decided that it’s definitely less intriguing now than it was then and more than a bit much. 

“I wasn’t speaking to her, Captain,” he answers with his finest bit of acting as Jack’s hand hovers over the button for the force field. “I’m ah... afraid my tastes don’t run to women so I can assure you that you’ve no worries on that count.” Julian doesn’t particularly like lying, but he doesn’t think it will be much of an issue. Lauren is striking but just not his type and the blonde woman doesn’t seem like she’ll be much distraction either. Well, it’s not entirely a lie, his tastes run to both rather and if smiling a bit for a man who might be just a bit more on the handsome side when the murderous mania is removed from the equation...

“You...” Jack’s eyes are somewhat adorably wide at that and Julian doesn’t quite understand since it’s hardly uncommon, but it seems that for all his bravado, he hadn’t ever expected Julian to be turning that sort of attention to him. It actually makes him feel bad for taking any advantage but Jack is already moving, spinning around almost twice as he practically runs for the door. Julian opens his mouth and shuts it again, not having quite expected that reaction. “Right! Of course you are... you’re not. I knew that! I could see that! So I don’t know why you would lead the poor woman on like that. Rude, very rude. Work on that. We’ll work on that now I need to make sure we don’t crash and you can figure out what we’re...with Lauren... -ituated hospitality.... -ot -avages” It’s only Julian’s hearing that allows him to hear as much as he does before he’s looking at Lauren.

“Jack’s embarrassed,” Patrick declares almost wondering.

“Now this is going to be interesting. It’s not often we get to see Jack flustered like that,” Lauren says as she releases the force field. “Better for you though, I’ll only break your heart, doctor.” She paused thoughtfully and gave him a wicked smirk. “Now Jack... he might break far more than that.”

Chapter Text

“I’m sorry. Perhaps I didn’t hear you correctly. Did you say that you’re going to saw Mercury in half? Mercury? The planet Mercury?” Julian has since walked around to where Jack is seated- well not really seated so much as crouched- in the Captain’s seat and stares at him incredulously. “You’ve spent the last three years hitting latinum miners in the outer belts so that you can build a massive plasma array to saw a bloody planet in half?!”

“Language!” Patrick pipes up from his own seat on the bridge never seeming to be intimidated by Julian’s loud outbursts as he is by Jack’s. 

“People have died for a madman’s science experiment?!”

“We haven’t killed anyone, have we Jack?” Patrick looks horrified by the prospect.

“Not yet,” Jack retorts shooting Julian a pointed look before waving him away with an indignant huff.

“I stand by my criticism,” Julian answers tartly.

“Hey, I don’t see you coming up with a better use for a massive Plasma array, Mister Normal Passing Doctor Julian, mmhm. That’s your problem, you’ve been blending in with the basics so much you’ve lost your vision, you’re sense of spirit, your sense of scientific inquisition, and I’ll have you know that originally we were going to work on reversing entropy since the rate at which matter is expanding and separating in the universe is somewhat alarming- 60 billion years at best!- but then I realized the matter was so simple that in 60 billion years even the basics will figured out white hole generation slipping via black hole without matter breaking apart so it’s quite a simple matter to slip the universal population to a different brane but Mercury now that’s something you don’t see every day mmhm.”

Jack’s nod of his head is emphatic and Julian knows that talking to him is completely pointless. He throws his hands up wondering why he bothers questioning anything that goes on. More than that, he wonders how in the last few weeks he’s grown accustomed to the unceasing number of oddities without giving much thought to trying to escape or contact his parents. Well, it isn’t as if he has much opportunity, he’s reasoned and getting to know the four has been a constant tickle to his curiosity... even if half the times the answers make him start to question his own sanity. Well they’re not bad people exactly. One can hardly justify stealing, disrupting the livelihood of other but... oh Lord, this is the very definition of Stockholm Syndrome, Julian! He sighs, taking a seat at one of the monitors- not the communications seat lest Jack think he’s “up to something”- and pulls out a PADD for a little light reading on one of the projects he never thought he’d have the time or ability to research. There’s hardly any harm in making the best of a bad situation, he think reflecting on the strange ride that it’s been.

Two days into his imprisonment Jack was arm wrestling him to an embarrassing loss over a cargo container and Julian nearly broke his neck trying to execute a backflip. Jack had decided that they ought to have a little friendly contest to see just who had the better enhancements and it seemed where the physical was concerned Jack’s parents really did buy the “total package” as Jack had called it. Lauren wasn’t terribly impressed by it and Julian was dying to know if there was a story there between the two of them. Now what did impress her much to Jack’s irritation was Julian’s advantage in flexibility. Her salacious comments as he successfully got both legs behind his neck had him nearly wanting to sink into the floor in embarrassment. The two of them were however, evenly matched in the mental realm though Julian couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket and Jack had a voice that would make the angels weep as his aunt used to say. Jack informed him rather smugly that they had no place for him in the ship’s chorus.

A week in and Jack decided that he very well wasn’t going anywhere and assigned him his own quarters: a four bed crew cabin. Jack let him know if he did a good enough job getting sick bay into “ship shape” he might earn himself a promotion and an officer’s cabin. Julian had stupidly asked then exactly what his current rank was and Jack cheerfully informed him until otherwise noted he was listed in the ship logs as “houseboy.” Julian, without missing a beat, asked him exactly what he would need to do to be promoted to “stud” which left Lauren howling and Jack once again beating a hasty irritated retreat with a fetching red tint to his cheeks. Julian was starting to take genuine pleasure in teasing that fluster from him.

The sick bay, Julian noted had been a shambles and little more than an overflow of miscellany they had acquired over the years. It had taken him days to get everything cleared out with Sarina- as he learned the blonde woman was called- hovering in the background like an incredibly unhelpful shade. Patrick had helped here and there but as the sole man in charge of engineering aboard the Centaur class ship he often found himself quite busy. He impressed Julian with his array of bots and he’d been all too happy to dazzle Julian with his mental catalogue of all sorts of speculative science fiction dating back to the seventeenth century. Patrick was tickled by the thought that humans once imagined robots controlled by something as simple as vacuum tubes and Julian found that his automated helpers humming and whirring around were quite comforting at times. 

Sarina was a complete mystery until he’d decided to explore the rest of the ship with Jack watching him over the security monitors the entire time shouting directions over the COM badge that he’d been given. Julian had almost been tempted to mute the thing but he was sure he’d have some privilege revoked if he did. Julian tried not to think too hard on that little bit of conditioning at work. There was really little harm in humoring him, and Jack’s running commentary once he realized that Julian was hardly going to grab a Runabout and try to escape grew amusing as Jack regaled him with different anecdotes of their first few weeks in space having never piloted a ship before. Because of course Jack and his crew would do that with nothing but studied manuals and a dream of getting out of the Institute. Julian himself hadn’t thought it was that terrible a place when he’d visited it for his analysis but then again he’d actually been allowed to leave after his test were concluded.

Sarina’s little part of the ship was fascinating. She had a massive lab to herself on the level between sickbay and the shuttlebay. There were signs all along the corridor warning not to open the door and Julian had stopped outside of it, amazed to watch Sarina moving around inside, not in her usual distant shuffle but in a mad frenzy, moving from one table to another where there was a large sphere sitting. She was covered head to toe in a strange looking black suit but he could see her face clearly through the face covering the front. There was a large black button with a helpful “Push to talk” label and he pushed it curiously. He didn’t hear anything, but a few seconds later, Sarina stopped abruptly then waved to him excited. She motioned to the button again, mimicking a speaking motion with her hand and Julian held the button this time speaking a tentative “hello”. There was another delay as she waited, blinking a few times before walking to a similar console on the wall, answering him back. 

It was a strange way to communicate but he came to learn that her enhancements had left her with an inability to sufficiently process the information as it was coming in to her. She was overwhelmed, she said, and since none of them had access to any doctors it was Lauren and Patrick who’d engineered the “Time Lab” as Jack named it so that she could work. Jack explained to him that time was a laughably simple thing to manipulate if one knew how to generate the proper force. The suit, he explained kept Sarina from the negative effects generated in the lab’s perception filtering, the time dilation completely out of homeostasis with the rest of the ship. Jack didn’t quite know what would happen if one were to enter without the suit, or open the door before the system shut down but Julian was certainly happier not knowing. He was amazed that Sarina had agreed to even be the guinea pig in such a mad experiment but she explained to him in a long communication by PADD that the freedom she had to move and think was well worth any spontaneous black hole they might have generated. 

Julian asked if he could find a way to fix her processes if that might not be a better solution and she was ecstatic at the thought. Julian was ecstatic at the prospect of the entire ship not collapsing in upon itself. He had no idea how they even generated that much power but realized they were only housing 4 not 300 and the efficient automation allowed far less resource consumption. The Centaur class ships were modular and though Julian had seen plenty, he had a sneaking suspicion that the “Morning Glory’s” outside might more resemble some cobbled together old boot than a proper ship at this rate. The size of the science lab alone shouldn’t have been possible, let alone the space needed and he knew these ships were mainly for combat but Patrick had also said they had lasers for Dilithium extraction so… so Julian was learning he needed to stop asking so many questions or risk ending up as mad as any of them. Naturally Julian was completely incapable of stifling his curiosity no matter how many trippy rabbit holes it led him down and he continued on, making note after note in the journals that Lauren had given him to keep track of up and down.

Julian often found Lauren busy with navigation and plotting their next targets, careful to randomize the algorithms, keeping track of the patrols of various Empires- notably the Ferengi who had placed a substantial bounty on their heads for their thievery. Lauren also headed the “Jack wrangling” though Julian seemed increasingly roped into Jack wrangling when the man appeared more frequently in the sick bay to check on his progress by some mysterious happenstance. Jack was a whirl of questions, of demands, of jumping from one thing to another and Julian had finally thought of a brilliant way to keep him distracted in little increments. Julian, like Jack, had an eidetic memory and he could remember every logic puzzle his parents had ever purchased for him and proudly watched him solve. He didn’t know if Jack’s parents had done the same but he’d presented him the “hedgehog in the cage” with a challenging little grin and could see that Jack had never seen one before. It seemed his parents were more concerned with his knowledge of the arts and literature than science or mathematics though Jack was hardly a slouch there either when presented with a new challenge. 

Jack looked at the puzzle and back to Julian after he’d handed him the replicated gift. He was suspicious at first until Julian explained what it was. He then demanded to know how long it had taken Julian to solve it and then set about his own solution with a manic determination while Julian worked on his cataloguing and arranging. Jack beat Julian’s time by a few minutes and was insufferably smug about it for days. When he returned the next time, he asked Julian if he had any others and Julian again was quick to respond with a Rubik’s cube variant, feeling a bit of a thrill watching Jack’s focus, hands turning, mind a beautiful whirls as he worked. Jack was quite fetching when he was concentrating that intently. Jack tied him that time and accused Julian of not being honest about his time but Julian said he’d be happy to make two more and race him. 

Next, they raced the ancient Chinese nine ring puzzle and this time with a curious audience. By the time they were at the penultimate move, both of them were flushed and laughing. Lauren and Patrick both applauded as Jack slipped the last ring a fraction of a second faster and then stuck his tongue out at Julian smugly.

“Don’t stick your tongue out unless you plan on using it,” Julian teased him and Jack surprisingly didn’t immediately retreat, instead continuing to wear that grin as they all sat around the table in the mess with rootbeer floats and ice cream. Julian’s had melted. Jack’s had as well but it was still cold as he ate it, victorious.

“Right, this is the flirt with Jack part, hm? The make Jack run away because I’m such a clever houseboy hm? A little behavioral conditioning, right doctor? Right? I don’t need to tell you, you know. You’re clever. You’re devious like us mmhm, that’s why you’re not getting the airlock yet but you know, you know what?”

“What’s that?” Julian asked almost hypnotized by the wild motion of Jack’s long dessert spoon. And that was when Jack dove across the table licking a long cold swath up the side of his face practically howling when Julian yelped at the cold and fell backwards off the bench.

“He used it!” Patrick exclaimed, ice cream long gone.

“Boy did he ever,” Lauren agreed and Jack asked “Jealous?” with a self-satisfied tone in response. The two of them continued bickering and Julian too started laughing until his sides hurt, still laying there, looking up at Sarina staring off. She had moved from her seat, and he found that while she was always there, she was never truly there, either trapped in the lab or trapped in her mind. It made him sigh, and especially determined to see her cured so she could share company with all of them.

Julian had grown to enjoy her company through the lab door where she could hear him and he’d often pass one of the others after he finished his own work in the sickbay when he went to visit her. She told him how excited she’d been by everything in the lab when she realized she could see and hear. Julian was impressed with how much work and time Jack had put into developing the space for her, and he was starting to realize just how truly kind the man was beneath all the mood swings and bluster. Julian found then when Jack had free moments he’d often be talking with her through the door about ideas for further ship modifications and even old poetry that he liked to recite. Sarina certainly held him in high regard and said she wouldn’t know what she’d do without Jack and the ship. Julian was starting to see it was that way for all of them.

Sarina had an incredible mind for science and design, letting him know the sphere she was working on was part of an array they could use for defense in the event of a “hostile takeover” as Jack called it. She assured him that unlike Jack’s requests that they fry anyone stupid enough to try and come aboard uninvited to cinders, they were in fact only programmed to stun. She then showed him the main “assault” spheres programmed for use in their exploits and showed him all their little tricks of their design which left him fascinated. Julian thought under different circumstances he really could fall for her but aside from his stupid “Julian isn’t attracted to women” rouse, there was just something about Jack that kept drawing him in from their games, to their weird little non flirting to their heated discussions over old books that developed after Jack saw Julian rereading “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” and had just a few things to say that Julian felt obliged to answer…

“Hey, houseboy, look sharp!” Jacks voice cuts into his reading and he looks up just in time to see the screens scan showing their next target. There’s a small mining setup within three parsecs and he has an odd sinking feeling that he’s about to have to earn his keep.

“I have a name, you know,” he replies testily, feeling his nerves already starting to creep up on him. Lord, they’re really going to do this. 

“Correction, you have a name when you’re off the bridge. On the bridge I’m captain.” Jack points to Lauren. “She’s Lieutenant.” Lauren gives Julian a flirty wave in response while Jack points to Patrick. “He’s Mister Patrick.” Patrick stands up and takes a bow that Julian finds amusing despite his irritation. Jack points to Sarina seated numbly on another seat. “She’s the radio.”

“The radio?” Julian asks incredulously. Jack ignores him, pointing at him with a smirk.

“And you’re the houseboy,” he informs him with a wink. Julian raises an eyebrow.

“Still not a stud?” If anything Jack’s grin grows wider as he wags a finger at him.

“Tut tut, went to the well once too often, houseboy mmhm. I’m on to you now. I know you name I know your game, nice try, not gonna work. But you knew that, didn’t you? So why bother? I’ll tell you why and it’s a shame really but you know they say the sure sign of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result mmhm. So that’s you, poor houseboy just as crazy as the rest of us after all. There you have it, good, better, bested!” Jack punctuates that with a slap of his knee. Julian feels some odd challenge in that as he straightens himself up in the seat.

“Perhaps, Jack, I just happen to enjoy flirting with you for its own sake,” he answers with a bit of sass before standing up and walking over to the communications array. Let Jack think he’s scheming then, he thinks taking an indignant seat down. Jack remains strangely silent but Julian doesn’t have the time to look and see why. At least he’s actually halfway familiar with this particular console, having been trained before even applying for this first assignment. “You know there are enemy cruisers right? Two of them. I’d wager-”

“Of course I knew that!” Jack interjects practically flying out of his seat, motioning to Patrick. “Watch and learn, houseboy,” Jack crows as a robot that Julian’s come to know as “Farraday” rolls onto the bridge. Jack holds up a hand as the some tapestry drops around them nearly hitting Julian in the head. Patrick draws himself up, clearing his throat.

“Alright Mister Passing Normal Houseboy, hail them,” Jack says with a wicked gleam in his eye executing an odd series of spinning kicks before clapping his hands together excited. “We’re about to have some fun with these greedy little lobe monsters! Won’t know what hit ‘em, you all know the drill.” Julian can’t see anything from behind the velvet and he wonders what’s on it as he does as Jack asks, sitting back to wait. Julian has no idea what he’s in store for.

Neither did the Ferengi, it turned out, cleverly conned into not only abandoning ship, but to locking themselves in their own engineering room on the makeshift station. The “malevolent spheres of death” terrorized both ship and miners, stunning everyone they hit with a fantastic illusion that even had Julian fooled until Jack pointed out that no one was actually dead. Sarina had said they were programmed with a fantastic self contained holo emitter but until he saw the charred remains of dropping corpses he hadn’t understood the true efficacy and frankly horror. Jack had said with a certain bitterness that they’d never be able to join Starfleet even if they were ever deemed “fit for society” and until now, Julian had just always quietly accepted that fact. But the waste of minds aboard the ship ate at him at times like these. 

He was still marveling at their easy success even though Jack had bragged they’d done this dozen of times. Julian couldn’t believe they’d actually pulled the whole bit of nonsense off from the strange robot Captain Faraday to the flood of mayhem and subsequent flood of latinum. But they did and he’d watched through the remote cameras jumping, laughing right along with Jack at the shrieks, at the chaos that followed phaser fire that did more damage to their own ships than Sarina’s spheres. He never would have believed that five... er four - because he certainly wasn’t one of them- misfits could accomplish so much with nothing but their wits and a stolen ship. But they did and it was brilliant, and as all of them stood in the cargo bay, arms interlocked around Sarina, whooping in ecstatic victory, Julian’s eyes caught Jacks and he just couldn’t help but smile.

Chapter Text

Julian’s chance to escape comes almost sooner than he had prepared for. Lauren explains that every successful heist, allows them shore leave while Jack takes care of business. Julian naturally asks what business that is already having a pretty good hunch. That’s confirmed when Jack swaggers in, a big grin on his face and a little twist of his mustache as he explains to the resident houseboy that they don’t keep a ship full of latinum, finding it much safer to invest and trade for more necessities. More junk, likely, was Julian’s thought at that but as far as he knows they’ve been paying the last two and a half years into a warehouse on Farius Prime which houses the key components only growing in size every time they visit. He sometimes finds himself trying to think of ways to talk them out of this ludicrous plan before reminding himself quite emphatically that soon it’s not going to be his problem.

“Think of it as an initiation, Houseboy,” Jack announces, that title now ringing out with a capital “h” whenever Julian hears it lately. “You get a taste of the world outside of the Starfleet safe zones hm. This is the frontier, the badlands, all the stuff your mother warned you about before you killed her with strychnine mmhm.” He says that gleefully shaking more white powder onto the waffles- powdered sugar that is, Patrick adds noting Julian’s hesitance. Waffles are one of the celebration foods: large heavy Belgium waffles with fruit syrup and powdered sugar. Lauren had actually cooked these, Julian having discovered that her talent for chemistry has lent itself to some creative ways to cook as well. Julian looks over at her now thinking that she resembles a vampire with the strawberry syrup running out of her mouth. Lauren, is an incredibly messy eater. He looks at Jack across the table, both of their forks stabbing another waffle on the master plate at the same time.

“I told you I didn’t kill my mother. She’s alive and well last I checked though I imagine she’s likely beside herself with worry at my sudden disappearance.” He gives Jack a pointed look. Sometimes he thinks Jack forgets that Julian’s presence on the ship isn’t by choice.

“That’s what he says, but if only a matricidal mutant can have the last waffle then surely you must have done it or else you have to let it go, mmhm.” Jack’s eyes are intense, though they usually are and Julian stares back. It’s another of their odd little games that Jack likes to call Liar’s Logic Fallacy. It used to drive Julian crazy but he’s grown rather amused by it. He’s naturally a poor liar, poor at bluffing as well, but he’s learning and it’s… God it’s actually a damn good time.

“You didn’t kill your mother either,” Julian argues, calling his bluff then looks over to Lauren for confirmation. Lauren is the walking Jack encyclopedia, the two of them having been together longer than any of them. She looks back at him with a wide smirk.

“What’s it worth to you, stud?” She asks coyly, having taken up the Martha counterpoint to Jack’s George.

“My eternal gratitude?” he asks hopefully shooting her big eyes.

“There you go with your dress over your head again, Martha,” Jack says shooting her a glare. Lauren laughs. 

“Alright then the truth for a laugh. Jack didn’t kill his mother, stud.” Jack “hmmphs” and looks about to die on Waffle hill when Julian turns that puppy dog look to him.

“Split it with me?” he asks pushing, not knowing why he has to keep pushing. Jack has that uncertain look on his face like he doesn’t quite know what to make of Julian but they both pull their forks back at the same time.

“Sharing is caring,” Patrick agrees and Jack ends up dividing it into five pieces and then taking a seat back down this time on Julian’s left. Sarina will likely eat hers in the lab later while replaying the feed and Julian has to stop himself a moment so he doesn’t think too hard on it. He’s going to leave. This is his chance and he has to take it. Surely he can still work to help cure her. He can find them again somehow. But if he doesn’t get away with the plan in mind then… then he’s afraid he might never leave.

“So Jack, ah… about this trip to Farius Prime…” He knows exactly what he’s going to do and it’s going to take all of his intellect and cunning. But he can do this. “I ah… I had a little proposition for you.”

“A proposition or an indecent proposal?” Lauren cuts in taking a seat on the top of the table, legs folded underneath her like a lounge singer of old. She really is stunning in the flowing red dress that spills out around her. The neckline is daring as always but Julian finds looking at her chest to be something akin to staring into the sun and it’s second nature for him to hardly take notice. Her words however nearly make him choke on powdered sugar, inhaling too sharply. Jack gives him a hard clap on the back with a smirk 

“See there, Houseboy, he who lives by the sword dies by it mmhm, can’t dish it out but he can’t take it that’s our Houseboy alright. So spit it out hm. You asking for shore leave hm? Asking to go ashore and wet your whistle? Stoke the old fires, hm? Well we’re hardly going to leave you here on the ship alone. You think we trust you that much hm? Of course you don’t,” Jack accuses. “You thought we were gonna lock you back up well we’re not animals here.” Julian almost laughs, because he could absolutely imagine each one of them in some anthropomorphic state, Jack an agitated rabbit bouncing all around the room. Julian puts a hand over his mouth to hold that laughter back. Patrick luckily saves him from having to reply right away.

“We should all go to the House of Sweets,” he suggests looking excited and Julian imagines some massive gingerbread house crawling with candies inside. 

“House of Sweets?” he asks not sure how he always allows them to divert his focus so easily.

“Oh you’ll love the House of Sweets, Julian.” Patrick is the only one who calls Julian by his proper name. Sarina refuses to call him anything other than “doctor” no matter how much he protests. “They have candy from every system in the Alpha Quadrant and the green candies they just started selling from Bajor are magical.” 

“I don’t know if our stud here has been good enough to earn himself a green candy, Patrick,” Lauren chimes in challenging and Julian nearly asks if they sell Delavian chocolates when he reminds himself that he’s working on a very important escape effort here. “Besides,” she continues wiping the syrup daintily off her mouth with a napkin, “he might want to join me in getting a nice boy instead. Charlie always does good for me and his young men are always so happy to see me.”

“Are you talking about a... brothel?” he mouths the last word sounding nearly scandalized and Lauren just laughs richly at his discomfort. Jack slams a hand down on the table and Julian almost manages to not jump in his seat. 

“No, nuh uh, no den of iniquity for the Houseboy here! You think he wants to watch you with your dress over your head? You should tell her,” he demands looking at Julian. “I don’t know why you let her think you’re just as sex crazed as she is. You think you’re impressing everyone hm? Well you’re not impressing anyone, Houseboy, no one’s impressed, no one thinks you’re a big man and we don’t needs anyone bringing any more distractions on board mmhm!” He turns on Julian looking almost angry. “You want the fork?!” He stabs it hard into the table right near Julian’s hand chipping the surface and bending the tines. 

Julian doesn’t let himself flinch this time. He’s grown accustomed to most of Jack’s violent outbursts and he’s starting to understand those moments usually occur when he’s not quite emotionally able to express something he’s strongly feeling. He thinks he might know or at least he hopes he does. Jack may be a bit on the prudish side, but it seems like a bit more and it’s a gamble but well, he supposes it doesn’t matter as he’ll be gone soon anyway. He puts his hand over Jack’s slowly, giving him plenty of time to move it should he choose, that hand still white knuckling the fork while Jack watches it with a savage satisfaction. He’s still unprepared for that contact, head jerking up when Julian touches him.

“I think you know me well enough to know that sort of thing doesn’t interest me, Captain,” he says looking at Jack with a bit of a flirt. Jack’s hand is still tense, his entire body rigid as a board. Half the time he thinks Julian is making fun of him and Julian hasn’t been sure how to combat that paranoia except with honesty. “Your company has been more than enough for me while I’ve been here and from the bottom of my heart I want to thank you.” He gives Jack’s hand a squeeze and then with subtle quickness withdraws in case the fork makes another reappearance. He gets that nice little blink and that searching stare, Jack trying to discern the truth of his words. If he wasn’t sure it’d be akin to grabbing a skittish cat, he’d want to give him a reassuring hug. They look at each other a moment, Lauren whistling and playfully covering Patrick’s eyes. Patrick swats them away but then reaches across the table and covers Sarina’s. Julian wants to laugh at their antics, but knows even a smile in acknowledgement might be read wrong. 

“Well we like your company too, Julian,” Patricks says emphatically.

“I was the one who said we needed a doctor,” Jack says a little more slowly and subdued, slowly scooting away until he reaches the end of the bench and ends up standing with his arms crossed defensively, biting his index finger. Julian thinks that could be considered progress. Well, it’s now or never, Julian. He clears his throat, letting them all look at him. Sarina’s hands have good timing in slowly and hesitantly moving Patricks hands from her eyes. Julian swears to himself that even when he escapes he’ll find a way to cure her. He’ll find a way to find them again and... and if he lets himself think too far ahead like that he’ll lose his nerve.

“Right, so about that now I’m not exactly complaining, mind,” he says and finds it’s a bit of an odd way to begin but well, he knows his audience. “But there is the fact of my presence here being not entirely willing.”

“You want to leave,” Patrick finishes with a frown.

“Well, you see this wasn’t exactly in the plan. I was expected on the Moa and though I imagine they’ve filled the position since then, I am still your prisoner and I would still like to get back to my life as it were.”

“Your life is here,” Jack answers flatly. He takes a big jump onto the table top, his slick shiny shoes making a clop like a tapdancer. Julian had been expecting that as long as he’d been still prior to that with his leg shaking under the table. “Here! You think we’re running a charity hm? You think you can just walk in, eat our food, drink our booze, and then dance off stage hm? This isn’t an English prison we’re running here, St Ives! If you think you’re hightailing it across the continent to collect on an inheritance, you can think again, Champdivers!” He stomps his foot on the table and kicks Julian’s plate past him. Julian wasn’t expecting any different but this is also part of the plan. Well, not exactly the crouching down, giving Julian a rather interesting view of his crotch in those tight pants. Julian makes sure to direct his eyes to Jack’s face when he looks up with a challenging expression.

“Well Captain, what I was going to propose was actually a bit of a gentleman’s wager but I think you might be afraid that you’ll lose, now that I think about it.” Jack pauses there shrewdly, staring Julian in the eyes with no consideration for personal space. 

“A wager?” he asks, eyes narrowing. “What kind of wager?”

“Oh, just a little game,” Julian answers, drawing it out. “A little contest of wits, you might say. I mean I couldn’t possibly hope to best you in a contest or strength or agility but I think I’ve rather got your number on this one.”

“You’ve got my number?” Jack scoffs, springing back up and flipping back onto the floor dramatically. “You think you’re smarter than me hm? Better than me hm hm?” He turns to Lauren who’s also looking at Julian sharply. “He thinks he’s better than all of us. I knew it! I know you brought us an arrogant sonofagun who wouldn’t be trusted! Should’ve gotten the airlock hm, Should’ve gotten the Airlock!” he declares again with a stomp, and Julian stands up slowly.

“You really think you’re smarter than us?” Lauren asks leaning back as if the question amuses her. Patrick is watching him curiously as well and Julian puts on his best bit of swagger, walking over to Jack with a grin.

“I think, that I can best all of you in a little game I’m proposing. A little game of hide and seek once we reach Farius Prime. I think that I could hide on world for seven days and seven nights, and disappear so thoroughly that you’d never find me. I think that I could completely outwit the lot of you.” He stops right in front of Jack, hands behind his back, daring, smirking, still stupidly feeling his heart racing when Jack looks at him considering. It’s a risky gamble, but one he’s completely confident in. He’s researched Farius Prime and while their main hubs are bustling and crowded enough that one could foolishly believe they could disappear, Julian knows better. 

He knows the mountainous regions outside the city limits are endless, are a labyrinthian nightmare full of wild animals and sentient predators as well looking for easy targets. But what they don’t know if that he spent a good portion of his childhood on Inverna II. The planet was a hotbed of ionic storms and as a result large portions of the planets’ inhabitants were forced to rely on more primitive means of survival. Julian had met a girl and her family there who taught him all about herbs, about the weather patterns and about foraging. His carefully erased research revealed to him an 85% genetic similarity in most of the flora and fauna of the two planets and his enhanced memory allowed him to remember all of it. He also knew that his body could survive lean conditions that would severely cripple most basics- er, non enhanced humans, he corrected himself- and that seven days would be nothing even in the cold. 

Julian had taken care to secure what he would need from the catalogued items that he’d been forced to move out of the infirmary; small things that could fit into a backpack. He knew that he could convince them he’d stay in the city. He could pass a few of his replicated personal affects to similar body types and builds. He could do this; most importantly, it could be done simply, cleanly, without conflict or ill feelings. All he had to do was count on Jack’s pride, on Jack’s love of competition. He stands there quietly, meeting Jack’s stare with a challenge, with a little smirk as if this were nothing but some strange preliminary to... To nothing Julian! Absolutely nothing, you’ve become friends with these people and perhaps you can find some way to help them once you’re free but-

“So what you’re proposing is a game of “Hunt the Houseboy”?” Jacks says, a knowing smirk appearing on his face. Julian is about to protest the name but wisely keeps his mouth shut. Jack still reads his irritation with a bigger grin and Patrick gets up too, poking him with his own laugh.

“Hunt the houseboy!” he exclaims clearly looking forward to the game of hide and seek once they disembark. Julian can’t help but laugh, shaking his head, expression stalling when he sees Lauren watching him speculatively.

“Boy, you’ve got it all figured out, dontcha, stud?” she asks sliding off, showing a small amount of thigh as she does. Lauren struts across the distance between them and neatly insinuates herself between Julian and Patrick. She puts her hands on his shoulders with a playful squeeze. “I like a man with a lot of confidence, but you know, there’s not a man alive who can escape me.” 

Julian keeps his face neutral but he does manage a small smile for her as well. He knows what she’s really saying. She’s their navigator but also has a few tricks up her sleeve as well. It wouldn’t surprise him if she knew how to track. Which is exactly why he’s making for the mountains. 

“But he hasn’t told us what we get when we win,” Lauren says with a sly look to Jack. Julian sees him looking thoughtful, a stroke of his chin, a tap to that little soul patch, starting to bite his finger again. Julian really doesn’t know why something so stupid makes him stare the way it does. He forces himself to stop staring and instead looks when Patrick interrupts loudly.

“He should have to be the slave next time!” Everyone looks at him and he crosses his arms with an emphatic nod reminiscent of Jack.

Julian isn’t so sure what he even means by that though he hardly likes the sound of it. He had considered some vague possibility that he might get caught, but not truly enough to think to offer any terms in return. Of course it’s not much of a game then, Julian, now is it? Whatever it is, whatever that means, it only makes him that much more determined to be the victor.

“It’s not fair that is always has to be Sarina,” Patrick continues as if that there just decides it while Julian slips out of Lauren’s grasp to take a drink his tea supposing they’ll settle the matter in the meantime.

“It has to be Sarina, Little Lord Fauntleroy, because when she’s out of the room she’s furniture mmhm. She’s a coat rack hm. I could hang a hat on her!” Sarina for her part has remained seated on the bench, staring off in their general direction.

“You could hang a coat on him!” Patrick accuses pointing at Julian and he immediately sucks in a breath in response, starting to choke.

“You see that!” Jack slaps the table next to him hard like some Earth primate with a hoot. “You think that can be a slave hm? He can’t even drink his tea without spilling it hm! Docking your pay, houseboy!” Jack declares kicking the rest of Julian’s plates off the table grandly. “For that too hm! Clumsy, clumsy!” He jumps down as Julian continues to cough, half spitting up over himself already dribbled tea all over the front and dropped the cup. Jack almost walks past him but then stops, and perhaps it’s an illusion brought on by the fact that he can’t quite breathe right now but Julian think he almost looks momentarily concerned.

“Don’t... don’t die, that’s an order!” he yells and looks about to give Julian the hardest, most unhelpful thwack to the back in human history, but his hand stops short and instead he gives him a stilted soft pat to his upper arm. 

“Don’t die,” he mumbles before hurrying off, mumbling about dead slaves and coat racks. Julian turns searching eyes to Lauren when he starts to breathe halfway successfully again.

“I knew he’d be fine,” Patrick says almost reassuring himself. Lauren merely shrugs then wipes at his face almost motherly with a napkin.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a deal then, stud.” She gives a wink as she stands. “We dock tomorrow morning, so you better be prepared to give us a good game.” 

Lauren says the same thing when they part at the station, as they agree to allow him a three hour head start; enough to stop for candy, Patrick informs him assuring him that he’ll get Julian some chocolate truffles and something called a Klingon Surprise Egg. Julian also learns as he prepares with that backpack and perhaps a bit of an overly emotional goodbye exactly what it means to be a “slave” as Sarina is carefully led around with a collar as part of their “non pirate” ruse. She wears a long brown cloak which, Jack grandly declares to anyone looking, houses the body of the most lovely beauty ever to grace the Alpha quadrant and “non of you inferior mongrels could afford ten minutes with her!” Julian has to admit that she looks stunning with her hair and makeup done expertly by Lauren and in spite of Jack’s grandstanding, he knows that Sarina is in fact dressed quite normally underneath in her usual “dress of a thousand pockets”. 

She’d already given her permission aboard the ship to hug her goodbye and he does so with a lump in his throat. Lauren gives him a tight hug that lingers perhaps a touch too long with a rub to his back and he’s almost certain some smug look to Jack as well.

“I know you hate the idea of being away from me for even a day, stud, but I promise, you’ll be back with us in no time.” Julian’s going to miss her funny sense of humor. Patrick doesn’t seem even remotely concerned about Julian’s departure but Lauren reminds him about their “talk” on “humoring people” and Patrick gamely gives him a hug as well before immediately forgetting and reiterating that Julian will have more candy than his arms can carry. Julian supposes it won’t hurt to play along and asks for strawberry jam as well.

Jack is last and Julian honestly isn’t sure what to expect. He’s dressed impeccably as always in that old Earth style, gray vest over a back shirt, red tie, and tight gray dress pants. Julian thinks he really shouldn’t look so good. He reminds himself again that Jack isn’t comfortable with touch. Julian already promised himself he wouldn’t force the issue and would be fine with whatever Jack is willing to give him. His hand twitches a moment at his side as he watches, Jack unusually still which is never a good sign. Julian wonders for a crazy moment if Jack might not be prepared to simply execute him in the middle of the busy terminal. If he had, Julian would’ve been less surprised. 

Instead, he gives a bow, takes Julian’s right hand, and raises it to his lips kissing it. Those soft lips linger like forever. Julian would swear he never blushed a day in his life but something about that gesture makes him heat bright red he’s certain all over his face, Lauren whooping, Patrick clapping, and Jack slowly letting his hand drop, taking another measured step back this time with a bit of a bounce to his back foot as if he might start vibrating out of his skin any moment. 

“See you soon, Houseboy,” He whispers in a deep serious tone, the barest hint of a tic of hm under his breath betraying some nerves but Julian is so stunned speechless he nearly falls when Lauren cackles and gives him a friendly shove telling hime he’d better get going then.

Julian learns two days later, seated underneath the gray and brown adapted tarp that Jack’s kiss is the reason that he’s discovered rather violently by a swarm of small droids. He also learns they were programmed by Patrick to detect and track the carefully engineered pheromone that Lauren had developed for the exact purpose of tracking prey across long distances. Well, he supposes as the four of them find him prone and frazzled on the rocks a short time later, at least Patrick got him his strawberry jam.

Chapter Text

“No. There is absolutely no way that I’m going out there dressed like this.” Julian crosses his arms over his chest though it offers precious little difference considering the ridiculous outfit that he’s currently clothed in. Jack had insisted on the historical accuracy and for exactly what that is, Julian would still love to know. Just try it on, he says because it’s hardly as bad as you’re making it out to be. Oh he’s right there alright, it’s a million times worse. The pants aren’t particularly an issue. They’re thin white cotton that’s loose and comfortable- save perhaps that they’re hanging a lot lower on his hips than he’d prefer. He would’ve thought they’d have slid clear off since, as Patrick put it so bluntly it was like putting a pair of pants on the stick of an ice lolly. 

Julian isn’t sure if he’s thankful or not that Lauren had a handy self made adhesive solution akin to the medical grade adhesive in the sick bay. When asked why she hadn’t simply made use of what was already there she was sure to point out that the medical adhesive didn’t have a pleasant aroma of vanilla and could potentially irritate the skin because after all he had such soft skin on his hips. Julian was sure she was having him on and the moment he stepped onto the bridge and Jack gave a wolf whistle he nearly ran back to his quarters. Or he would have if Lauren hadn’t thought to complete the ensemble with an overdone collar and long cord attached to her wrist. It was a bit much in Julian’s opinion but Lauren had teased that he required the extra restraint since he wasn’t as “well trained as Sarina.” Julian found he liked it better when Jack was more of a prude.

Not that Jack had suddenly devolved into some lust crazed masher overnight. He’d simply gone about as if nothing had happened once they all returned to the ship and that may be all well and good for him but Julian’s been stuck thinking about it the last three days tossing and turning, feeling himself getting flushed whenever he lingers on it too long. Patrick has also cheerfully informed him that his ocular engagement of Jack’s profile has increased two hundred fifty five percent since returning. Julian kind of sort of wishes they’d just shot him dead on the spot. 

Sarina was his one respite from their merciless teasing, not particularly interested in anything he was or wasn’t up to. She assured him when he spoke with her that their slave ploy was just a convenient front for their meeting to place their latinum deposits and it was actually the easiest role since he wouldn’t have to say anything. She also showed him the demo of the “slaves” they sold proud that each time everyone had a different face, body, and profile. Julian couldn’t help but he impressed and then she made him feel like absolute dirt when she apologized to him and said that if she’d done anything to make his stay unpleasant that she would try and make it up to him.

“Not so easy from here though,” she had said with a knock to the window. Julian had fallen over himself assuring her that it wasn’t anyone’s company per se but rather the whole kidnapping against his will thing.

Jack in the end declared that they had such a fun go that hunting the houseboy would be played at the next port if Julian was up for a spirited game. As much of a godsend as that was, Julian was reluctant to agree, keeping in mind his promise to himself. Ultimately though, he supposed it was good practice for when he really needed to escape in the future and agreed to the game with the condition that if he won this time, Jack was absolutely never to call him houseboy again. Jack countered that if they won that Julian would be sleeping on his couch for a week just like a good houseboy. Not his best moment admittedly and he almost thinks the heated negotiating is what resulted in him having to wear this ridiculous get up today instead of Sarina’s modest robe...

“Again,” Julian says putting his foot down. “Not wearing it. Not happening.” Jack looks at him thoughtfully from where he’s crouched on the Captain’s chair. There’s a tip of his head like a curious sparrow eying a worm. He smiles.

“Right of course, beneath your dignity, hm. So why’d you agree in the first place if you were gonna renege on a bet hm? Thought you were so clever, he thought he was so clever!” Jack declares laughing with a slap to his knee before hopping off. He struts over to Julian, hands clasped behind his back, still wearing that obscenely smug grin. “He’s clever and he’s vain. You’re so vain you probably think this story’s about you,” he sings, and Julian doesn’t hear him sing often but he likes when he does. Lauren chimes in with the “so vain” and Julian can’t help but laugh softly and shake his head.

“What if I said I like you dressed like that, houseboy hm?” He turns his head with a wink that Julian imagines he must have been practicing. “Captain’s fancy and all that...”

“You’re a perfect Nick Succorso!” Patrick exclaims suddenly, the conversation getting away from Julian while he’s still trying to process that compliment. He coughs, trying to pretend not to be just a bit flustered because Jack’s just caught on to the stupid flirting game and he’s just playing with him. He sees Patrick examining him with a frown.

“He’s no Morn Hyland,” Patrick remarks critically and Julian isn’t sure if that’s supposed to be an... insult?

“Give him a zone implant and we’ll see, Patrick m’boy, mmhmm.” Jack claps his hands together rubbing them with almost fiendish glee. Julian isn’t so certain what he’s talking about there but-

“Sarina said no zone implants,” Patrick reminds him sternly.

“No zone implants, no Carousel, no ultraviolence, why are the inmates running the asylum if no one’s getting the shock treatment?!” Jack yells with a loud jumping stomp. He gives another stomp to the ground for emphasis looking agitated. It gives Julian pause. Right, they’re wasting time debating this and God knows his modesty’s suffered far worse in his life. Jack’s getting worked up obviously without a backup right now and Julian agreed after all. He sighs and smiles although it’s somewhat forced.

“Thought the idea was to parade the loser around in silly stuff like this.” he interjects calmly, with a  little humor though it’s hard to maintain Jack’s intense stare at times. Well he’s getting better, he thinks as he looks away fidgeting. Lauren laughs and jangles the chain.

“Oh look Jack, you’ve both gone and embarrassed him,” she says chiding. “Don’t worry, Julian. Stick with me and I’ll make sure to show you the ropes. Just don’t get any ideas now while we’re in public. You are our slave boy after all.”

“Thought I was a houseboy,” Julian mutters as he goes to change.

“Don’t worry, Julian, you’re always our houseboy!” Jack calls after him grandly. Julian just barely resists the urge to flip him off hoping it’ll be at least a long time before he has to go out in public like this.

Time is relative, Julian thinks as he’s standing in the entrance of the dark bar behind Jack silently. They’ve come in, having made the appropriate cover sell in the south corridor and now according to Lauren are completing the real business. The name of the place is called Quark’s, and from what he can gather it’s run by Ferengi. He catches the name Quark as he watches Jack argue with a colorfully dressed Ferengi behind the long bar. There’s a Lurian seated at the end with a half filled tankard of some brew talking the ear off the woman seated next to him. She appears enchanted and Julian isn’t quite sure he gets it but-

“So my latinum is no good here hm? Julian hears Jack ask incredulously and admittedly he would be taken aback himself that a Ferengi would be so quick to have them exit as soon as they entered given how free Jack was with said latinum but then again, Julian knew Jack and he could only imagine the scene that must have been caused previously. It’s only been a month since the last time they were here-hardly any time at all but they caught a lucky break and Jack wants to make sure he makes his deposit with “The Magpie” was done timely. Julian had learned that The Syndicate took a substantial amount for their own but the massive warehouse was also heavily guarded and Jack was buoyed by the thought that they would be able to purchase one of the next massive laser they’ll need. Julian still has no idea what he’s going to do if the thing actually gets built but well... worse case scenario it’s not like anyone actually lives on Mercury.

“It wasn’t his fault, Quark,” Julian watches Lauren say with her usual flirty manner. She’s wearing the same black pencil dress he saw her in the night they met. It flatters her figure well and he sees her reaching out for Quark, giving a rub to one of his lobes with a little purr. “You know how it is, there are some people you just can’t be nice to. We always pay our bills, don’t we Jack?” Jack is looking around anxiously and Julian takes stock of the other patrons in the busy bar seeing anyone paying them little mind. He’s rather relieved given the outfit but Jack is still eyeing everyone like any moment someone is going to try and spirit him off. Julian wishes that he could put a hand on Jack’s shoulder for reassurance but he’s supposed to be keeping his hands obediently behind his back. Quark looks like he might be persuaded and Jack produces a few more strips of latinum at Lauren’s look.

“In out, a drink, sure I paid you enough for a whole barrel of rum there, all for me grog, hm. But we’ll settle for rum, drink and the devil had done for the rest mmhm.” Jack takes a seat at the bar and the leash is passed off- and of course Sarina isn’t forced into the silly thing, merely standing off to the side staring ahead as Julian is forced to kneel next to the stool. Julian hopes they don’t end up with fifteen dead men as that Lurian looks over and asks about Sarin’a phantasmic appearance and Jack in an impressive display of character acting declares with a wink that she may appear silent now but she turns on well enough where it matters. Julian resists a smile at that ridiculous wink.

Julian is... surprised that the floor is as clean as it is- thankful actually and upon inspection the entire place is less a dive than a clean place, Dabo tables and brighter light towards the back, the cries of victory reaching his hear from what seems to be a rousing Tongo game. Of course Julian is stuck staring at polished wood and Jack’s leg and he’s... tempted as Jack knocks back something that smells like coconut to Julian’s sensitive nose and keeps watching the door.

“You got twenty minutes,” he hears Quark grouse adding that it’s only because The Syndicate has always done well by him and he can very well tell The Magpie that they’re always welcome there. Julian sees Lauren’s shapely legs parade past him in those nice black stockings assuring them both that twenty minutes is plenty for their business. Julian dares a discreet look at some of the men watching her before deciding that it’s definitely come down to the Bolian or the Iotian giving her the once over. Patrick isn’t expecting them back opting to continue work on the robot array if they’re not going to be stopping for sweets or anything interesting. It seems like Lauren has found something- or rather someone, ah is was the Bolian- interesting and without catching sight of any new bodies approaching, Julian takes a moment to... discreetly run a hand up the back of Jack’s calf, smirking as there’s a twitch that nearly kicks the bar. Julian snickers softly, nearly missing Lauren heading off to a dark corner of the bar giving a quick series to gestures to Jack. 

That’s curious, he thinks as he lets his forehead butt Jack’s leg this time, a soft chuckle under his breath in the din as Jack tries to ignore him again, body tense, shoulders likely rounded and Julian pictures him shooting a furtive irritated look around as he gives his leg a shake. The black pants are nice- Julian can smell the leather and with a giddy snerk, he does it again, this time, reaching up just a bit, tickling behind his knee before drawing his hand back. There’s a slight sift in Jack’s legs both that Julian takes stock of, and his ears catch the man seated next to Jack.

“Got some work with that one. Still, Might take ‘im of yer hands if yer lookin’ to sell. Bit of a looker... think I could find some uses for ‘im” Julian stops, feeling his heart skip anxiously. Jack snorts in answer.

“You think you can afford this one? Ha! You don’t have the bars for this one, doctor, augment, descendant of Singh el Bashir you know the one master of qasidah, good breeding stock, good mouth, good for other things too, mmhm, fifty bars, eighty if you make me an insulting counter offer.” Julian hears a glass slam down and he feels concerned but surely there’s no way that Jack would actually sell him. Is he crazy? No, he’s sure that-

“Fifty bars for that stick? Yer out yer mind, human. ain’t even broken in yet looks like way too much work.” Julian is sure he shouldn’t be looking but he feels his neck start to crane curiously towards the sound of the voice when there’s a yank to his chain suddenly, his eyes catching Jack’s feet moving at the same time. 

It’s instinct, of course, to correct himself, to roll backwards and come back to a knee, hearing an impressive whistle before the sound of a leg through air catching his ears, Jack’s foot catching his chest forcing his back to the ground. It knocks the breath out of him, that pain hitting in a moment of panic, but no, nothing’s broken, the kick clearly pulled leaving him staring up at the ceiling embarrassed as that foot rests on his chest, the rattle of the chain catching his ears.

He’s still struggling to catch his breath when he sees Jack standing over him, eyes giving a long lascivious sweep over his prone body that... that has to be exaggerated, Julian’s breath in short wheezes, realizing that Jack is actually holding the majority of his weight on his other foot, the boot on Julian’s bare chest mainly for show. Julian reminds himself to calm down, that he won’t be able to breathe right for awhile until his body sorts itself out and in the panicked rush of his pounding heart and head his hands go to Jack’s boot pitifully as he continues looking up. Their eyes meet and there’s a positively wicked gleam as he catches the last of Jack’s words reaching his ears.

“Now why would you want a broken slave when the feisty ones are so much more entertaining, hm?”

To Julian’s (and apparently Quark’s) amazement, they actually make it out without further incident though Julian’s pride is sorely wounded, Jack having the entire bar in stitches after that little display. Julian also noted that Jack had to parry down half a dozen offers after that and made a ridiculous show of dragging Julian back to his feet and showing off his assets and his teeth for the crowd. Julian may have “accidentally” given him a bit of a bite there to a loud roar of laughter that was followed by a slap to his face. Julian keeps his eyes on the ground as they shuffle out, mortified that he actually rather... enjoyed that light smack. Lord, if his mother and father ever saw him now, he thinks as they walk back down the dark street to the docks....

He nearly walks into Jack when he and Lauren stop suddenly and he hears Lauren whisper “alley now milamila.” It means little to him, and he looks down, enhanced eyes catching a look of black rather resembling a murder of crows fanning out across the other end of the street, likely too far to have noticed them even in turn. Jack has already grabbed him in and he hears muttering about “Cardassians” as Jack holds him pinned back to the brick, disruptor pistol at the ready. Lauren is similarly armed. Julian has no idea how she even concealed the weapon- though likely the same way she concealed the latinum she transferred and why no one had told him she was the one doing business not Jack- but he can feel the tension as they set back carefully crouching behind a dumpster, Jack putting a finger to his lips. Cardassians have good sight but poor hearing and Julian slows his breathing, listening carefully for them to pass by.

He counts six voices all of them female save for one male voice in the din. They don’t seem to be discussing anything meaningful, rather some odd debate amongst them on the matter of something called Preloc and then mention of a Romulan poet and even tawdry Ferengi courtesan novels of all things. Julian blinks in confusion as the danger passes, the four of them standing back up, and has every intention of asking just what that was about.

“Next time,” he hears Jack muttering. “Next time we get em... damn lizards... Nag... Nagaina dead on the bathroom with a shotgun hm...”

“If I don't break his back at the first jump he can still fight; and if he fights -- O Rikki!” Julian finds himself answering with that quote from Kipling’s story. Jack turns and looks at him a moment with a strange expression, Julian wondering if he’s said something off when he sees that rapid fire blinking.

“When a snake misses its stroke, it never says anything or gives any sign of what it means to do next,” Jack quotes breathless, and Julian is about to ask what he means when Jack leans in. Their heads til almost perfectly in sync- like Julian knew exactly what was coming by some second sense, their mouths meeting, unsure who kisses who but Julian tastes that coconut rum on Jack's lips and sighs into it, soft, sweet, almost more of a breath than a kiss hearing Lauren give a low whistle of approval behind them and...

God he is truly doomed.