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"Mrs. Dubois? Dr. Bashir will see you now. Please follow me." The nurse said from the door of the office.
A Starfleet cadet of obvious Klingon and Human heritage strode forward and followed the nurse back. She was seated in an examination room that wasn't sterile white and chilly. Rather there was a grey carpet and some framed postcards on the walls. She'd been seeing Dr. Bashir for years as her GP, since she came to the Academy, really. She had never met anyone else so easily spoken to. He never judged and asked questions in the most polite way that even a visit of a sensitive nature never felt intimate or awkward.
He entered, very tall and slim, wearing a long white coat, and pressed black trousers wherein which he tucked his button-up shirt. Dr. Bashir never wore a Starfleet uniform, he'd resigned long ago but he was so reliable and skilled a doctor that Starfleet had asked him to be part of the campus' clinic staff anyway. He always looked out of place, even now he didn't have on a tie and a few of the buttons were undone at his collar. He gave her a charming smile which crinkled the corners of his eyes behind his wire-framed glasses.
"How have you been, Asha?" He asked, his British accent dancing around the question like a memory.
The appointment ended with Asha receiving a referral and well-wishes. She left smiling and Julian went to his office to file the necessary reports. Several appointments later, most of the staff left at closing. However, he stayed to check in on tomorrow's schedule and make sure his workload wouldn't bear too much a burden on the other doctors. He was going on vacation for a few weeks.
He told the staff he was going to meet old friends from the station he'd once been assigned on. In truth, his fifty-fifth birthday was two weeks away and he wanted to spend it wallowing privately. Miles and Keiko, now empty-nesters and retired, had a penchant for dropping by frequently. They were arriving the next day and he was ready to engage them with lies of plans to spend his birthday on Risa. Otherwise, they would pester him again about how alone he was. He knew he was alone. He never forgot it.
With his mother and father passed on his only connections on Earth were the O'Brien's. Kirayoshi had just entered the academy and Molly was a successful artist on Jupiter where her pieces were inspired by the exotic flora and fauna of the gas giant. Julian was very proud of them and enjoyed hearing about their exploits and successes through his friends. He only hoped dinner tomorrow would focus on the children and not turn to his life.
He left after dark and took a transporter home. Once he walked in the front door he placed his satchel by the door then commanded the lights to come on dimly. He replicated a raktajino and a roast beef sandwich then sat at the table with his padd and caught up on some news. He read articles from the Federation and the communique unopened from both Ezri, now Captain Dax, and Sisko whom had finally managed to settle in the Gamma Quadrant with his family and accepted an Admiralty position with the 'Fleet.
He found himself staring out the window of his apartment at San Francisco. He was caught up recalling his years on Deep Space Nine and how he had always been happiest there. At the academy, he'd tomcat'd around and found himself in comfortable, and sultry affairs which seemed like happiness. Before the Academy, he'd been miserable and just followed along with his parents and their ideas. And after the academy? He'd tried to carry on at the station being smooth and exciting but he wound up— he stopped and flushed. Wound up hopelessly in love with a Cardassian tailor whom barely reciprocated his affections. At the end, he was so desperate for companionship he almost destroyed his friendship with Ezri and bullied poor Sarina into— he shook his head and tried not to think about that. About those selfish choices and the nights, he spent wandering the station wracking his brain over how to take the next step with Garak.
Julian showered and fell into bed and slept dreamlessly. Just another day. Another miserable day.
**
Miles and Keiko arrived the next evening after Julian had fastidiously cleaned his home. They came in with jubilant greetings and handed over a bottle of kanar. Julian graciously took it and ignored the pang of homesickness he felt. They replicated snacks, sat and talked about the kids and Julian's work. They had light conversation over dinner and found themselves back in the living room, full and comfortable looking at the sparkling city stretching for miles.
"Oh, don't you miss it sometimes?" Keiko sighed laying back on the couch, looking at the city lights, "I didn't like living on the station very much but I miss it sometimes."
"What d'you miss?" Miles asked eyebrows raised high on his forehead.
"The cultures, mostly." She said, "It was good for Molly and I wish Kirayoshi had gotten to see more of Bajor."
Miles nodded, "Maybe we could plan a visit. Kira's a Vedek now, I think."
"That's such a long trip." Keiko said, "It takes a good week to get there. Molly won't mind the shuttle, but Kirayoshi's never traveled that far."
"He'll have to get used to it sometime," Julian said, "His first assignment could be in the Gamma Quadrant for all we know."
"He's right," Miles said, "Why that's what happened to you, isn't it?"
"It didn't happen to me. That was the assignment I wanted." Julian said.
"You were happy there." Keiko said thoughtfully, "Until just after the war."
"That's no mystery!" Miles grinned and he glanced at the unopened kanar on the table.
Julian followed his eyes and then sighed, "That time in my life is over."
"I don't understand why!" Miles said, impassioned and Julian looked at the floor, "What are you doing here? You hate Earth. You left Starfleet, for goodness sake. You don't go out with anyone, you don't publish anything, I bet you haven't got a single study or experiment going on."
"I can't see what that's got to do with anything," Julian said sharply.
"I'll tell you what! You cured three— no— five diseases that no one else could even figure out? You're a bloody genius! And you're in a campus clinic? Diagnosing the sniffles when you could be out there doing what you love!" Miles admonished, his round face flushing pink with exertion.
"Miles," Keiko admonished and put her hand on his arm. When her husband relaxed a bit and Julian hazarded a look in her direction. Then the woman continued, "He's worried about you, Julian. We all are."
"For the hundredth time I'm fine," Julian said firmly, "There's nothing to be worried about."
"Julian," Keiko's tone turned stern and Julian shifted away from them again. He didn't want to speak about this with them. Not this way. As if they understood as if he deserved her kindness and Miles' upset. They didn't know everything that had happened because they'd left. Just like everyone else; they had left the station and carried on their lives. What right did they have now to bring all of it back up again? To interfere once all the damage had been done?
"I told you once," Miles said, "That you aren't selfish for being lonely."
Julian found himself looking at Miles and pressing his lips together. Else, they might quiver with the emotion he felt building up in his heart and behind his eyes. Miles relaxed his shoulders and said, at some length, "Why can't you just let yourself be happy?"
Julian pulled away as if burnt and covered his mouth with a cupped hand. His burning eyes settled to stare at a patch on the floor— not at his earnest friends, or the bottle they'd brought that sparked too many aching memories. If he looked elsewhere he knew he'd cry and he hadn't done that in a very long time. He hadn't expected all of this; it was just supposed to be a brief visit with laughter and easy memories, yet somehow they'd cornered him.
Miles and his big heart and bullish approach to absolutely everything couldn't keep himself from saying what was on his mind. And Keiko? She'd never turned him away. Not even in the middle of the night when he showed up drunk before Miles even liked him and he was aching for friends. Not even when nightmares kept him up at all hours until he fell asleep on their couch. They cared more for him than anyone else he'd ever met; more than he cared for himself, and more than his parents did. They were the only family he'd ever had. That was probably why he didn't stop them from fussing at him and constantly trying to insert themselves. He knew he was content to live out a quiet life, finally, and was glad they ignored the crack in his voice, "It's been twenty years. And we ended on some very disagreeable terms."
"At the station?" Miles asked, referring to the last time he knew Julian and Garak had spoken.
"No, after that. I sent him letters and he'd respond sometimes. And they just stopped. One day." Julian explained firmly.
"Julian it's been twenty years. What's the worse that could happen?" Keiko asked.
"He'll have a wife and children." Julian said, "And there I'll be: this reminder of a torrid almost-affair during the worst part of his life."
Keiko and Miles shared a look. Keiko pressed on, "You don't need to bring that up. Just go there. The planet has been completely restored and there haven't been any significant disasters in almost ten years."
Julian gave an exasperated laugh, "I should have known you'd have researched this. What is an insignificant disaster?"
"I'd go with you." Miles offered, ignoring Julian's question, "If you didn't want to be bored."
Again Julian was choked by the sentiment and he shook his head, "Miles you hate Cardassians."
"So?" Miles asked, "It's been a long time. I can manage it."
"No. If I'm going to do this then I'll have to do it alone." Julian replied, "I'll let you know."
There was a pregnant pause in the conversation before Julian swept the kanar off the table and twisted off the lid. Keiko and Miles tapped their drinks against his bottle and he tipped it back. It burned unfamiliarly and was thicker than he recalled. Still, he didn't hate the taste and there was nostalgia there. He took another drink and Miles replicated more for himself and Keiko. They spent the rest of the night talking and drinking. Julian got progressively more relaxed and the banter became easier as gaps appeared in his memory and every story they told made him laugh.
Later, Miles helped Julian to bed. The younger man's feet were not cooperating and every time he tripped he laughed. Then, he couldn't quit laughing and Miles was trying not to join him. Really, it had been a long time since he saw Julian relax, even if it was artificial.
He dropped Julian onto the mattress then sat down to take off his shoes. Julian was losing the fight with sleep and looked up at Miles with fondness, "You're a good friend."
"Yeah, well," Miles shrugged as he sat Julian up and helped him out of his blazer.
"I love you."
"Yeah, Julian, I know."
"Do you love me?"
Miles met Julian's eyes and smiled awkwardly, "You really did drink that whole bottle, huh?" He said, but Julian just stared at him, piss drunk, and earnest, so Miles relented, "Yeah, Julian, I love you too. Not like you'll remember this in the morning. But you don't need to ask me. I've told you hundreds of times."
Julian didn't seem to be paying attention but he was smiling, "S'good."
"Go to sleep, you great noodle," Miles sighed as he pulled the blankets up and over his friend.
Julian yawned and the second his eyes closed he was asleep. Miles patted his shoulder before joining Keiko in the living room. She had tidied up a bit but left the empty bottle of kanar on the coffee table.
"Should we stay tonight to make sure he's okay?" She asked.
"No, I don't think so. He wouldn't want us seeing him grouchy and hungover." Miles replied.
"Okay. Just make sure you call him after lunch tomorrow." Keiko said, looking at Julian's bedroom door.
"I will, I will," Miles handed her her coat then put on his own.
"I hope he goes to Garak," Keiko said
"Yeah, me too."
They left and the door automatically locked behind them. Inside, Julian slept heavier than he had in years.
The next morning Julian woke up long enough to use the bathroom and shower. Then he tumbled back into bed, his head still felt full and his body just a little too warm. Later, the sun streamed through his window despite the pulled drapes and he sat up, his mouth felt sticky, and his limbs were throbbing dully. He looked around and assessed his surroundings: he was at home, and he was naked. He was sure he hadn't slept with anyone, and then he recalled the shower. He replicated water and his hangover cure in a hypospray.
"Miles what the hell did you do to me?" He sighed while putting the hypo to his neck. A few seconds later the achy, groggy feelings were gone.
And that was when Julian recalled what he'd agreed to do today. There was nothing to do for it. He said he would and dammit he was going to do it.
"Computer. When's the next shuttle to Deep Space Nine?" He asked.
"There is a shuttle to Vulcan this evening at oh-seven-hundred. Then, a shuttle will depart Vulcan for Bajor space the following day." The tinny voice replied.
"Okay, then," Julian said, "Book me a seat to Vulcan and to Deep Space Nine."
"Booking confirmed. Do you want to locate accommodations on Bajor?"
"No thank you," Julian said, he began to pack and tried not to think very much about what was going on. Once everything was organized he contacted the clinic to tell them he'd had a change of plans and might be gone for two weeks due to situations out of his control. No one questioned his sincerity and approved the time off without question.
That evening he was on a shuttle to Vulcan. It took four days but he was content. In truth, he was glad this was the most direct route because he didn't feel much like making friends anymore and Vulcans tended to ignore more humans. He kept to himself and once they arrived he hung out at the station on the planet’s surface so he was first on board the shuttle to Deep Space Nine. This time it was another eight days and he was beginning to question this trip.
What was he doing? He was going to go to Cardassia and...? And do what exactly?
He hadn't spoken to Garak in such a long time there was no knowing how this would transpire. Frankly, Garak could be dead and Julian wouldn’t know. Really, he had no right to go bursting back into the man’s life twenty years of nothing which had been preceded by almost a decade of awkward flirtations and sexual frustration. Julian thunked against the window of the shuttle and stared into the darkness of space, he could feel his stomach revolting as he tried to imagine Garak’s reaction when Julian showed up. Julian didn’t even know how Garak had viewed their relationship; everything had always been references and coy metaphors, and when Garak spoke candidly Julian had hated him.
He remembered the few times they engaged in espionage-style simulations on the holodeck of Quark’s. It was a hazy echo of feelings now: Julian could not recall the plots, or Quark’s tone as he charged them extra because he deemed their games childish. He thought about how the station had always been a bit cool and he’d never felt hot and how Garak had relished in the warmth of their 1960s-era Italian villa and spoke about the comfortable thickness of Cardassia. He remembered Garak’s black hair and how it sometimes fell over his face when they played due to the physical exertion of the game, but he didn’t remember Garak’s facial features very clearly anymore. He remembered the way his face hurt from smiling after Garak quipped about a supporting character of their game but he didn’t remember what Garak had said or the exact tone of his voice. He remembered dark nights on the promenade where they sat not close to one another, but still closer than Julian ever sat next to Jadzia or Ezri or Leeta or Serena or— he stopped and the ache made him groan and close his eyes. It hurt to think of the women he’d selfishly used when he was young and in such a firm denial about who he was and what he wanted. Jadzia had once called him a boy, and Sisko often had fixed him with a withering look for his impulsive behavior.
He wondered briefly about why he always thought of himself as a child still.
He wondered when would start to feel like an adult.
“Get a grip, Bashir,” Julian whispered to himself and opened a padd to begin reading and brushing up on Cardassian policies regarding Federation citizens and visitation.
**
“Well, well, well,” and Julain couldn’t stop the grin from his face when he heard the familiar, chastising voice for the first time in such a long time, “Never thought I’d see you again.”
“Hello, Quark,” he said and sat at the bar and smiled at Morn who was still seated on the same stool, “Hello, Morn.”
Morn opened his mouth to greet Julian but Quark waved his hands, “No! Don’t you get started! He doesn’t need a recount of everything that’s happened in the past ten years! Shoo!”
Morn gave a suffering sigh and turned to his drink. Julian could tell he was listening and something comfortable and quiet came over him.
“What brings you back here? I thought you were working as a doctor on Earth.” Quark said, and Julian found himself laughing breathless at how easy this conversation was. How this had been the lightest he’d felt in— well— longer than he cared to admit.
“I’m just visiting,” Julian told him.
“Who?” Quark asked, “There’s no one here but me and you’re not here to see me.”
“Morn is here,” Julian said.
Morn looked up brightly and Quark gave him a sharp look, “You didn’t travel all this way to see Morn.”
Julian shrugged, “Maybe I’m going to visit Kira on Bajor.”
“Then why didn’t you take the shuttle to Bajor that left twenty minutes ago?” Quark asked.
“Obviously because I wanted to see you,” Julian said.
“I don’t like that beard,” Quark told him, “It isn’t the same color as your hair.”
“Humans don’t go grey all at once,” Julian explained, “Our facial hair often turns before the rest of it does.”
“Why don’t you just shave it off? Ugh. It’s so barbaric. You look like a Klingon.” Quark told him, shaking his head disparagingly.
“I won’t lie and say I’m not extremely jealous that you look almost the same,” Julian said, mostly because he didn’t want to be the person to tell Quark he had aged. The bartender had white hair coming from his ears, and that he seemed to hunch a bit over the bar, and that the once tight skin on his cheeks seemed to droop down to his lobes.
“Ferengi age much more gracefully.” Quark said, “He’d rather if you shaved.”
“Who?” Julian asked.
“Oh, doctor, please stop. You’ve never been good at banter.”
“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”
Quark sighed and shook his head, “How are you going to get there, hm?”
“How do you know that’s what I’m doing?” Julian asked, and he was a little offended that he was so transparent.
“Doctor, no one you had any relationship with is on this station. The closest two are Kira and Sisko and you’re not on Bajor looking for them. You’re in my bar passing the time between shuttles. Also, I make it my business to know who is on the passenger manifest of most of the shuttles coming through here.” Quark said, then smiled, “I also tend to check their itinerary.”
“Ah, I take it that Bajoran security is a bit more lax on you than Odo was?” Julian asked.
Quark laughed, but there was a sudden sharpness to his next words, “No one has ever compared to that miserable shapeshifter.”
Julian nodded, “I can understand.”
A mutual understanding passed between them, and Quark put a glass in front of Julian then filled it to the rim with Kanar. Quark nodded, “Just this once it’s on the house.”
In the following conversation, Julian learned that Cardassia was beginning the process to join the Federation. Several ambassadors had been assigned but few could tolerate the arrogance of the current Castellan. Julian gathered the man was something of a nit-picker and tended to annoy most humans; that and many members of the Federation were reluctant to allow Cardassia into the fold. Quark didn’t seem surprised by how little Julian knew; his civilian clothes spoke volumes to the observant businessman. Julian asked about how he’d get onto the planet, but Quark waved a dismissive hand, his polished black nails catching the light of the bar.
“Just take your shuttle. You’ll need to prove you’re a Federation citizen but you’ve got documentation, I’m sure. They’re getting used to visitors since the admission process began.” He explained.
“Do you know anyone I could contact?” Julian asked.
“I don’t, but you do.”
“I don’t know how to reach him.”
Quark snorted and shook his head, “No, hu-man, not him. O’Brien’s daughter has a friend who often goes to Cardassia.”
“What?” Julian asked, his brow furrowing, “Who does Molly know?”
“Rugal,” Quark said spritely.
“Whom?” Julain asked
“Oh, you know him too. The little Bajoran-raised Cardassian boy who’d bit Garak,” Quark said and Julian repressed the flinch when he heard Garak’s name spoken for the first time in their conversation.
“How does Molly know him?” Julian asked.
Quark explained that when the O’Brien’s briefly lived on Cardassia Molly had met the only other human child on the planet who just happened to be the adopted child of Rugal Pa’Dar. Julian marveled at the string of coincidences that lead them to this moment and stood, “Excuse me,” he said and rushed to the promenade and found a secluded alcove by the Bajoran temple. He was shaking with anger and betrayal; when had Miles lived on Cardassia? How had he had connections to a planet of people he’d always actively disliked? Julian wasn’t mad at Miles but he was mad because of Miles and he felt manipulated into taking this pathetic little star trek. He pulled out his padd and contacted Miles immediately.
“Hello, Julian!” Miles greeted brightly when their connection finally went through and they could see each other on the screens of their padds.
“Don’t you ‘hello Julian’ me!” Julian replied, feeling too warm now and unprepared for this argument, “When did you live on Cardassia?!”
“Oh, you’re on Deep Space Nine now?” Miles asked, “Did you see Quark?”
“Miles!” Julian yelled.
“Okay, okay,” Miles said, “Take it easy. Listen, it was almost fifteen years ago. Keiko had taken an assignment for a few months; the kids and I spent most of the time on Bajor! You’re not missing anything.”
“Did you see Garak in that time?” Julian asked.
“Uhm,” Miles said, “No. It was 2378 and he was living on Earth.”
Julian suddenly flushed ice cold, “Garak was on Earth?” he asked, “For how long?”
“A year,” Miles replied, “He was in Paris. I thought you knew, Julian.” The man said, seeing how Julian suddenly seemed distracted and was staring somewhere beyond the padd.
He felt foolish; here he was on Deep Space Nine twenty years after their last conversation and he just found out they’d had other opportunities for reconciliation. Like ships in the night, Julian thought, then bitterly realized if Garak had wanted to see him he would have.
“Julian, I think you’re over-reacting. Do you remember where you were in 2378?” Miles asked
“I was…” Julian gave a mirthless laughed, “I was still on the station.”
“You were,” Miles said, “And you were barely talking to any of us.”
“A lot happened that year,” Julian muttered as a reply.
“I know,” Miles said, “So stop… stop trying to find excuses and just go to Cardassia already! It’s been two weeks since your birthday!”
Julian sighed, and nodded, “You’re right. I’m meeting with Quark now to find someone who can help me track down Garak. I’ll talk to you later.” He said and disconnected the communication. Then he sat there and stared at the unfamiliar faces bustling around the promenade. True, he’d only left the station ten years ago but it seemed longer. So much had changed and Julian was exhausted by the bustling Starfleet personnel who’d been stationed there.
He returned to the bar and Quark looked at him, “You’re jumpier than I recall.”
Julian ignored him, “Can you get me in touch with this Rugal?” he asked.
“I can,” Quark smiled, “Give me a few hours and I’ll get you his information.”
“My shuttle leaves at oh-one-hundred,” Julian said.
“Why did you schedule a shuttle for that late?” Quark asked.
Julian shrugged, “It was the one departing closest to when I arrived.” He said.
“Hu-mans,” Quark sighed and shook his head, “I’ll contact you. Here,” he gave Julian another glass of kanar, “Now go away. People are going to all line up to cry in their beer and then no one will want to play Dabo, or darts, or—“
Julian tuned Quark out and went to sit on the second level. His anxiety spiked and Julian clenched the glass tight in his fist, trying to think about something else than all the lingering what-ifs and whys. He couldn’t begin to imagine how Garak would react to him and his mind turned to each worst-case scenario. Garak pretending not to know him, or Garak laughing at his desperation, or Garak sneering and informing Julian that everything the doctor remembered had been nothing. Julian wasn’t sure which of those made him most apprehensive but as each option ran through his mind in dizzying detail he felt sick and had to hasten to a restroom to throw up the kanar. It was all he’d ingested in hours and it was even more vile tasting a second time as he retched pitifully in a cramped stall. He tried not to dwell on how pathetic it was to be a fifty-four-year-old man vomiting in a bar toilet because he was worrying himself sick over nonsense he was making up.
**
At midnight Quark stepped onto the second level of his bar, downstairs a group of Klingons were betting two mild-mannered Nausicaans at the Dabo table. Morn was at the bar, drinking, but also watching the stock. Quark had just gotten a response from Rugal and came to inform the doctor. Unfortunately, the other man was asleep, his too-thin body leaning over the small table, his arms folded under his head, asleep. Quark tried not to think how pitiful the sight was and tried not to compare this man before him to Sisko when he was half-a-century, or Worf, or even to himself and Odo. Realistically Quark had never put much investment in the doctor.
Of course, he found Julian to be of remarkable intelligence and integrity. There weren’t many men in the universe that Quark had met who threw their careers and reputations away to help people they didn’t know. Quark was pretty sure only Sisko had done that but even then, he had had an unexpected connection to Bajor that was a contributing factor. The doctor, on the other hand, always sought out lost causes and rushed to their aid and never thought about himself. Humans called it selflessness and Ferengi, well, Quark never met a Ferengi who wanted to help others unless personal growth was assured. Still, Quark had to acknowledge it in the doctor as a desirable trait because he was even more aggressive about bullying others to do The Right Thing than the average human. That wasn’t what made Quark pity him, though.
What made Quark pity the doctor was Bashir’s inability to factor in any personal happiness or growth to his decisions. Bashir seemed to go from one project to another, accumulating praise and favors that he never accepted. His reputation was propelled by good deeds which went unreciprocated and opportunities for career advancement were wasted as Bashir dragged himself over hot coals and insisting all he needed was his merit and skill. It had been ten years since Quark saw him, but at the end of his time as CMO on the station, Quark had watched him wither. Julian’s loping gate had slowed, and his wide eyes had turned half-lidded, he’d stopped chatting with everyone, and he’d stopped trying to get the others to go out with him. And Quark thought it was so odd that the young man who had once been so friendly people were embarrassed for him had become this gaunt wisp of a man who chased ghosts.
More pitiful than how Bashir treated his career were his relationships. Quark had started a pool after each of Julian’s breakups with a woman to figure out when he’d finally pursue Garak. It never happened and Quark hadn’t expected that; he was good at predicting trends. Somehow, Julian dated every woman on the station seriously, had steamy trysts with men, and stared adoringly at Garak all at once and never found… someone.
The Ferengi shook himself.
None of it was his problem.
He then shook the doctor who sputtered to wakefulness and blinked blearily at Quark before coming to himself, “What time it is?”
“You have an hour until your shuttle departs,” Quark told him and handed Julian Rugal’s information, “This is how to contact Rugal. He’s a farmer right now on Cardassia and he can help you contact Garak.”
Julian nodded and programmed the information into his padd, “Did you tell him I was coming?”
“I did,” Quark replied, “You owe me.”
“Just name it,” Julian replied.
Quark smiled toothily, “Now, doctor, you know me better than that. I’ll let you know what I need when I need it. For now, enjoy the information and good luck.”
Julian watched him, distrustful, then nodded, “Thank you, Quark. I’ll be seeing you.”
**
On the shuttle, Julian contacted Rugal then sought out the replicators and got himself a bowl of gagh to eat as they corresponded. The trip would take two days and in that time Julian hoped to at least, narrow down where Garak might be. He didn’t know what to expect from this Rugal, and he didn’t want to speculate what the boy had grown up to become if he was so familiar with Quark that the Ferengi could just bully him into whatever this was to become.
Good morning,
My name is Doctor Julian Bashir, I received your contact information from Quark, a Ferengi businessman aboard DS9. I’m coming to Cardassia to find an old friend and Quark told me you could help.
Regards
-
Doctor Bashir,
I am a Federation Citizen despite my Cardassian heritage. I do have some friends in the Federation embassy who might be able to help you. What is the name of the person you are trying to reach?
Signed,
Rugal Pa’Dar
-
Good evening,
Elim Garak is his name. When last we spoke he was going to the capital city but that was some twenty years ago. Briefly, I believe he worked with the Federation although I am not sure. I know a bit of his family if you need that information to conduct a deeper search. Let me know what you require.
Regards
-
Doctor Bashir,
There’s no need for any further information; I know of him. I’ll see if my friends are able to help you.
Signed,
Rugal Pa’Dar
-
Good afternoon,
Thank you! I’m relieved and surprised how quickly you were able to contact him. Where is he living now?
Regards
-
Doctor Bashir,
I am not able to contact him directly. We do not know one another directly. However, a colleague of mine will collect you from the shuttle in the city and take you to an event where he will be. You’ll be on your own after that.
Signed,
Rugal Pa’Dar
-
Good evening,
Very well. I will be arriving tonight. What does your friend look like?
Regards
-
Doctor Bashir,
She will find you. Good luck.
Rugal did not sign his final communique and Julian didn’t expect him to reply to his swiftly typed thank you. Instead, he turned his thoughts to this Cardassian woman who would be taking him to Garak. He tried to imagine her but had no point of reference. Julian thought to send Rugal a message asking for her name or a photo but he didn’t, largely because of how clipped Rugal’s messages had been. Julian didn’t want to pry for more. Also, he was landing in one hour and didn’t anticipate the man would respond in time.
One hour passed without event and when the passengers could disembark Julian knew his skin struck a dark contrast to all the Cardassians aboard; and he realized this is how she would find him. He was so obviously an outsider. He strode from the docking rig to the terminal where many people were rushing towards loved ones and exclaiming joyous greetings, and he stood alone in the middle and waited.
Julian admired the architecture: it was arching, the ceiling very high, with windows that were open to catch the dry breeze, and the curved ceilings brought the air down to the floor where Julian admired the intricately laid tiles. He knew without knowing that this building was new. There was a crispness to the paint and fixtures that implied it hadn’t always been here. The style was unlike any Julian had seen on his brief visits to Cardassia and he recalled, suddenly, the destruction of most of the planet and guess this delicate work was the result of rebuilding. He admired the information screens and advertisements that were placed the station in Kardassi, Standard, Klingon and Vulcan which screamed about the types of persons who had come to the planet since it recovered from the war.
“Doctor Bashir?” someone asked and Julian turned his attention to the woman before him. She was broad-shouldered and tall, almost his height. Her Cardassian skin was a rocky grey, and her hair was shining in its health, piled high on her head, exposing her long, slender neck and ridges. But, what Julian couldn’t help noticing was the trousers she wore and he smiled, glad of how progressive the planet suddenly seemed.
“Yes,” he replied, “Hello. You can call me Julian.”
“Doctor Bashir,” and Julian thought he was glad some things hadn’t changed, like Cardassian formalities, “My colleague tells me you’re seeking counsel with Elim Garak?”
“Yes,” he said, shifting his duffle at his shoulder, “We’re old friends. It’s been—”
“I am aware.” She told him, then turned and beckoned him to follow.
They walked in silence and Julian was eager to step out of the station right into the busy city center. The buildings were tall, their sides angled delicately so each was shaped like a trapezoid with a wide base and narrowing top, then on top of those sat a similar structure with several feet of ledge between the soft slopes. Each looked to be an eggy white or a faded orange, and the people wore greens and blues and reds and Julian hadn’t ever been in the center of the city but he hadn’t imagined it to look so lovely. He was struck with the memory of walking with Garak through a town on the French Riviera and he couldn’t stop the smile.
He didn’t miss the ache of loneliness that usually accompanied the memories of his friend.
Julian made sure his gaping didn’t halt his host's swift stride through the city, he would stop to arch back, following a spire and its shadow cast across the street, but then jogged to keep up a few paces behind her. She glanced back sometimes and Julian was sure she thought he was a stupid tourist, though he didn’t much mind. He thought about how nice it would be later to walk with Garak down these streets and ask him to discuss the style of architecture and ask him to explain the function of the talon-like spires that shot out of some of the tall, rectangular buildings but didn’t festoon the sunny trapezoids. He was certain his host knew but she did not seem the type interested in idle gossip. She simply was delivering a hapless human as a favor to a colleague.
They stopped at the edge of a large crowd, and Julian turned his back to the city to look at what was going on. A gaggle of Cardassians stood and were facing the gates to what appeared to be a lush, green garden, and standing at the gate was Garak. Julian’s breath caught and his mouth fell agape and he marveled at his friend. Even from this distance, Garak looked distinguished and happy, the smile on his face was not smug and his eyes were not pinched uneasily. The collar of his suit was wide, displaying his ridges to the curve of his shoulders, and the chufa set in his forehead was painted a vibrant blue that Julian could see even from the back of the gathering. Then Garak spoke and Julian felt all the hairs on his body stand on end as the honey-thick sound came back and suddenly his memories had sound again and they had a new life because this sensation is what he’d forgotten.
“Friends,” Garak said, “It has been a long and difficult year for many of us; from the failure of our planetary weather system which plunged us into a drought, to the over-compensation of rain only six months ago which flooded our fields. Some have said to me it was a waste to invest in the garden. However, it is clear that we require a place to seek solitude and safety. This Hebitian garden is a memory long-lost of our ancestors, and a reminder of what we have always aspired to be, but not what we have always been. Inside, there is room for two-hundred-thousand persons to enjoy the shade of once-extinct trees that we revived with the help of Federation Botanists. There is foliage only found in the most remote countrysides of our planet. Friends, this garden is the first to have been terraformed on our planet but it will not be the last. You see, before my time as Castellan is up, I intend to return our deserts to the lush forests they once had been. With that, I give you Ko’tar, the man whom I worked closely with to design this garden for you.”
Garak stepped aside as the crowd applauded and a young Klingon stepped up to the platform. Julian gaped and marveled at a Klingon working alongside Garak, and he covered his mouth when he realized how much the warrior looked like Martok. Ko’tar had the same robust curls sweeping back from his ridged forehead and cascading down his back. However, he was wearing a Cardassian-style suit with light blue trousers, and dark green tunic with a wide neck. He spoke eloquently about the garden and explained the process of terraforming and he spoke about the plants and trees that had been revived from old seeds in a lab with help from the Federation. Then Julian turned to look at Garak—
Garak was looking at him. Julian was almost positive those sharp eyes were locked on him and so he raised his hand meekly in greeting. Garak nodded and Julian’s stomach flipped. He spun on his host, the Cardassian female who had her arms folded over her stomach and was looking at Ko’tar.
“Garak is the fussy Castellan?” He asked her.
“I don’t think he would appreciate that characterization,” she replied, “But, yes. He accepted the position in 2385.”
“How do you know him?”
“I’m the head of the Cardassian Intelligence Bureau.”
Julian stared, “What?”
“Doctor Bashir you are shockingly simple for a man seeking an audience with our Castellan.” She told him, but she was smiling so he decided not to be offended.
“I don’t understand why the head of the Cardassian Intelligence Bureau is here as a favor to a Cardassian-turned-Federation-Citizen who’s able to get me to Garak!” Julian exclaimed.
She laughed and shook her head, “Cardassians are social creatures, Doctor Bashir, surely you know that more than most.”
Julian didn’t know what she was insinuating exactly, and he decided not to dwell on that either, “When can I see Garak?” he asked instead.
“You do see him right now, don’t you?” she asked and pointed at the man who was nodding along to whatever it was the Klingon terraformer was saying.
“Miss!” He exclaimed, “Please! It has been twenty years!” He hoped this wasn’t it; Garak had learned of his arrival and was so disgusted he organized an intricate setting where Julian would certainly see him but they’d never speak. Julian’s breath suddenly caught and he turned to look at Garak, squinting to see if the man was mocking him or— Garak was not looking at him and Julian suddenly felt like the ground was being ripped away from him and he was standing there on knocking knees—
Stupid he chided himself. How could he have been so arrogant to think it would be this easy? Meet a few friends, ask a few favors, and get passed along easy as Sunday morning and Garak would smile and offer his arms and Julian would fall against him. He went from cold to hot as he flushed with humiliation. This was a joke! An elaborate way for Garak to tell Julian to go away, to stop chasing something that had never existed. And Julian wondered what else was there for him if Garak couldn’t even stand him. And Julian wondered how long his damnable augmentation would keep him alive because living just didn’t seem bearable anymore. He wondered about walking into the Cardassian desert and about the Klingon finding his bones in a few years, blasted white by the sun and sandstorms, ghastly and small, another blemish on the surface of the planet.
“Doctor,” the head of the Cardassian Intelligence Bureau was saying to him, her strong hands on his shoulders, “Doctor, please breathe!” She shook him and Julian blinked rapidly, eyes burning with tears gathered on his lashes.
“I’m sorry,” he said, breathless, “I just… I don’t know why I even came here.” He picked up his bag and pushed her away then turned and saw the clearest path and ran.
**
Eji Ghimlil had risen through the ranks to become head of the Cardassian Intelligence Bureau using any means necessary at the time. She had killed and she had blackmailed and she had bribed and she had charmed until she met Elim Garak in 2379 when he was imprisoned on their planet and in her, he saw a person he’d never hoped to be. Garak had spoken to her candidly and told her secrets he’d vowed never to share and Eji used that to work within the Bureau to shift the tides of policy. She had been a confidant for many former leaders until it was time for her to ascend, publicly, to the role she’d been secretly occupying for years. One of her earliest works had been to help Rugal, a lost young man who wore Bajoran earrings, who had gotten Federation citizenship, buy land. After that fiasco of a transaction, she had always kept contact with him. He was one of those people no one liked, and truthfully, she did not like him either, but she loved her people and knew Rugal was the result of the occupation and he was the future of their planet. Garak knew that too, he had known that when he first helped Rugal become a citizen of the Federation and retain his rights as a Cardassian as well. It wasn’t easy then, and it still wasn’t easy. Rugal ran the only orphanage in one of the most ravaged parts of their planet and Garak gave him money and support as often as possible; especially after they’d finally gotten all the Cardassians left on Bajor as children citizenship and connections on the homeworld. Eji was proud of this and was proud to be part of Garak’s network; she imagined she’d run for Castellan when he stepped down.
However, now, she had to go find some elderly human who’d run away without any knowledge of where he was or what he was doing. She turned off her communicator after the first message from Garak; she didn’t need his mother-henning right now.
She walked through the city, asking people if they’d seen an old human, and some had and their directions took her winding through alleys off the main streets, until they came out in a neighborhood flooded with cultures from off-worlders. Now it was a bit harder as the general person here didn’t trust people who went around asking questions; many were older, or hybrids from unlawful unions and they recalled the atrocities of the riots during the civil war when persons like Eji asked questions and suddenly friends went missing. Still, she managed, and then was sitting opposite the doctor who’d dropped into a chair outside a café. She watched him breathe heavily over his knees and she didn’t know if it was like his panic attack earlier, or if it was his age catching up to such physical exertion. Julian had run almost ten miles and the sun had long since gone down.
“Doctor,” she said evenly, “The Castellan is waiting for you.”
Julian sat up and nodded, eyes pink, his face flushed and ruddy, “He is?”
“Well, he was,” she said, “But it’s been some time. I’ll contact him and see where he wants me to take you.”
Julian watched her fiddle with the communicator on her wrist. Then she stood, “Let’s go.”
**
They arrived at a small house which Julian recognized right away as Tain’s and he groaned, pressing the heel of his hands against his eyes and wondered why he was suddenly so tired. He didn’t know what to expect but knew if he dwelled on it he’d lose touch with reality again and he’d already made himself a spectacle. The head of the Cardassian Intelligence Bureau hadn’t said one word to him since she caught up with him, and here she stopped at the bottom of the steps and Julian knocked on the door alone.
Garak opened it seconds later. The paint on his chufa was smeared and fading, and his hair was wild, with grey and white strands hanging over his wide face. His mouth was a thin line, eyes piercing. He stepped aside to let Julian in, the doctor walked over the threshold and tried not to feel trapped when the door closed and they were alone.
Julian’s hands shook and he finally met Garak’s scrutinizing stare, “Hello.”
“Julian,” Garak said his name and it was breathless and light, “Julian where on Earth did you run off to?”
“That’s an interesting expression to use,” Julian said, stepping back from the man, “We’re not on Earth.”
Garak’s puzzled expression spoke volumes on the ineffectiveness of the universal translator at that moment. Julian refused to be embarrassed by that and took a deep, steadying breath. He pushed on, thinking of something easy that might bring them back to a safe place so they could try again.
“It’s Castellan Garak, isn’t it?” he asked, parroting the words Garak had first ever said to him, “Of course it is. May I introduce myself?”
Garak’s stance changed, his shoulders seemed to drop, and he recalled those exact first words, “Yes, of course.”
“My name is Doctor Bashir, that is, Doctor Julian Bashir. I’m the only human on this planet and I appreciate making new friends whenever I can.”
“Ah,” Garak said, his voice a barely more than a whisper of fondness, “Would you care for some Trakalean tea?”
Julian matched his tone and took a nervous step closer, “What a thoughtful man you are.”
“I hear that you remained alone in other places for a long time,” Garak said to him, matching Julian’s step, voice still soft, words lost in the shadows, “On DS9 and Earth.”
“You’re not intimating that I’m some kind of a spy, are you?” Julian asked, and smiled, hearing his accent again for the first time in years.
“I wouldn’t know,” Garak said, “Sir.”
“Well, if you wish, as I do, for a bit of enjoyable company now and then, I am at your disposal, Castellan.”
“You are very kind, Doctor Bashir,” Garak whispered.
“Oh, it’s just Julian,” the human said, “plain, simple—”
“Julian” they both spoke, the toes of their shoes touching. And, Garak felt Julian’s mammalian heat coming off like a warm rock too long in the sunshine. And, Julian could smell the floral aroma he’d long forgotten how to describe but his body had never truly forgotten.
Julian stepped around Garak now, their bodies just inches apart, he gently placed both hands at the strong, wide space on Garak’s shoulders, “I’m so glad to have made such an interesting new friend today.”
Garak’s body responded as Julian’s had those many, many years ago; with a shallow intake of breath, and a sudden roll of the shoulders to test how firmly Julian was going to hold onto him. But instead of walking away, leaving Garak tingling with desire, Julian leaned down to kiss the third ridge on the left side of Garak’s neck. The kinat’hU it was called, and if Julian recalled his reproductive Cardassian xenobiology research correctly, it was extremely sensitive for all Cardassians. And, Garak responded, his head arching to one side, giving Julain room to kiss and explore as he saw fit. Julain heard the Cardassian’s breathing grow soft and he brushed the white hair that streaked from Garak’s temple down to the ends away to leave more light, open-mouthed kisses along the ridges. For a few moments Garak allowed this teasing, but then he raised a hand and laid it over Julian’s which still pressed down on his right shoulder. Julian froze, and Garak spoke softly.
“My dear Julian,” he said, “I hope you are not intending to start but not to finish.”
“If you are implying,” Julian said, unable to stop his smile, “That our separation gave me only enough courage to kiss you once they leave I think your observational skills leave a lot to be desired.”
Garak looked up at Julian and said: “The same could be said of you.”
Julian nodded, “But I’m just a doctor, not the president of an entire planet. I don’t need to observe body language as a means to survive.”
“You poor thing,” Garak said, turning all the way around his arms looping Julian’s waist and holding. Julian felt his breath leave in a rush and he stared at Garak, both hands flat against the man’s chest, “Here, I’ll be quite obvious tonight.” He said and Julian gasped when the man lowered himself to his knees and his hands gripped the hem of Julian’s trousers and teased down the zipper.
Julian gasped when his pants were dropped to his knees, and then his underwear was rolled down his thighs, his cock was half-hard and bobbed quietly right in front of Garak’s face. Garak smiled up at him, “Do you know what they say about men who can’t control their prUt?” he asked.
Julian laughed and smiled down at Garak, blissfully realizing this was happening, “Yeah. I read enough of the smutty literature you recemented to get an idea.”
“Julian,” Garak admonished and Julian’s cock twitched, “Never once did I suggest you read inappropriate literature. I simply used those novels as references to the books I actually asked you to read.”
“Mhm,” Julian said, “Are you going to suck me?”
“Oh you are still impertinent,” Garak smiled at the human, “Relax, my dear, we will be here for some time.”
With that Garak took Julian’s cock into his mouth and Julian braced himself against the wall. Julian realized he hadn’t been the only one researching xenobiology and Julian wondered what Garak had read to know about the perineum and how to, so masterfully, wring an orgasm from just the lazy rubbing of his index and middle finger over the bundle of nerves.
Then Garak stood and while Julian shed his clothes properly, so did Garak and naked they went to Garak’s bedroom. Julian laid on the bed, but then Garak grabbed his hip and flipped him to be face down. Garak bit the back of his neck and Julian felt something wet, and chilled, and fleshy pressing against his buttocks. Julian gasped and Garak’s hands gripped his bottom, and he wiggled which earned him a happy groan from the Cardassian who had two handfuls writing before him.
“I haven’t prepped myself in a long time,” Julian blurted, humiliated, “It’ll be slow-going.”
“Darling,” Garak scolded, “You humans rush everything.”
It took time and Julian’s cock was hard again before Garak had gotten two fingers inside to scissor Julian open a bit. Julian wasn’t sure what Garak was using as lubricant but it was cold and his body jumped in response. Finally, Garak was fully everted from his ajan and he slid his prUt into Julian all the way to his base. Julian began to wiggle under his partner, stimulating the sensitive nerves as the base of Garak's cock. The Cardassian cock just managed to brush Julian’s prostate, but as it did, Garak’s hand took Julian’s leaking shaft and began to stimulate the head. They writhed on the bed, gasping each other’s first names and Julian swore each time he was Elim the Castellan rewarded him with a sudden thrust that jolted his prostate and set him to whimpering.
The sun was up when Garak came, and Julian flung an arm over his eyes when he was dismounted and flipped onto his back. Garak finished stroking his cock and Julian came in long spurts up his belly, at the same time he felt the warm ejaculate Garak had left in him begin to ooze out onto the bedsheets. Garak climbed up his body to kiss his mouth; a uniquely human gesture.
“Was it all you’d been hoping for?” Garak teased, smiling down at Julian, his long hair fell like a curtain around his face.
“It was,” Julian smiled, squinting at his partner, “Elim.”
“My dear Julian,” Garak said softly.
**
Julian rolled out of Garak’s bed before the sun was even up and began to search for his partner. He’d been on Cardassia for two weeks now and knew they had to discuss the long-term implications of their reunion. Julian found Garak in the bathroom brushing his hair. The Castellan grinned at Julian in the mirror.
“What are you doing up so early?” he asked.
“Well, you’re so worked up in the evenings I thought this was the best time for us to have a chat,” Julian said and slipped onto the counter and sat beside Garak, watching him.
“I have to leave in twenty minutes,” Garak said, “But continue.”
“It’s been two weeks,” Julian said, “And this probably sounds pathetic but I am happier here than I have ever been anywhere else in my life. I don’t really want to go back to the clinic on Earth. I want to stay here with you.”
Garak was running an enamel regenerator over his teeth, he nodded and watched Julian out of the corner of his eye.
“Well, that’s really it. I suppose. Do you want me to stay? Was this a tryst? Was it a mistake? If I leave will I die never speaking to you again? What is it you want, Elim?” he asked, his hands palm-up and open, gesturing pitifully at his partner.
Garak put the regenerator down, “My dear Julian,” he said, “I would be lost if you left. Of course, I want you to say.”
“But?” Julian asked.
“But,” Garak agreed, “It isn’t as simple as you staying. We’ll need to be married so you can stay on Cardassia with dual citizenship, for one. For another thing, we’ll need a larger home so you can move in your effects.”
Julian stared, “Did you just propose to me?” he asked.
Garak laughed, “We are a bit old to be proposing, don’t you think? Marriage is the only logical recourse if we are to have a future on Cardassia. Unless you were imagining I move to Earth?”
Julian shook his head, “No. I’d never ask that of you. I hate Earth. I hate living on Earth and if I never go back there it’ll be just fine with me,” he said, “But, I do not want to marry you just because it’s logical!”
Garak sighed, “You are making this too complicated, my dear. That has always been our problem.”
“Oh, has it?” Julian asked, his eyebrows raised, then hopped off the counter, “I thought our problem was that you ignored me for twenty years.”
“I ignored you because you did not know what you wanted! And, my dear boy, you still don’t.” Garak told him, leaving the bathroom to get dressed.
Julian followed, “I am a grown man!” he argued
Garak rounded on him, “Your age does not imply anything about your maturity. On the station, I pursued you for nearly seven years and while you eagerly participated in the chase you also dated other people. I do not begrudge you this, Julian,” he raised his voice as the doctor began to offer a counter-argument, and when the human stopped trying to talk Garak continued, “When I first saw you I was eager to strip you to nothing and put a leash around your neck and keep you at my heel until my dying days. I have learned much more about who you are as a person, and I would still like to keep you. It has never been a question of my affection, doctor.”
“I didn’t know any of that!” Julian argued, “I thought you were flirting but you never came out and said it!”
“Did you ask?” Garak held his arms wide, leaning toward the human, eyes a little too wide for the gesture to be truly friendly, “Why didn’t you ask?”
Julian frowned, “There were a lot of reasons. For a while I had an issue with my sexuality, the war was a distraction, Ziyal—“
“Please do not bring that wonderful girl into this situation.” Garak held up his hand, “Julian. Until you make a decision I am not going to change my routine or my plans.”
Julian stood there, surprised, “Are you serious? You wouldn’t want to take our relationship to the next level because I want your opinion first?”
“You know my opinion.” Garak told him, “You’ve always known.”
Julian let out a frustrated exhale, “Listen,” he said, pointing at the Cardassian, “I never asked you what we were because I was worried I was fabricating a romantic relationship and as the years passed things just kept happening and the timing never seemed right!”
“Is the timing right now?” Garak asked, “I am, you know, almost eighty years old.”
“I don’t know!” Julian yelled, “I’m just trying to figure out what you want! I want to know if I leave that you’ll care!”
“Of course I will,” Garak said, frowning, “I have just told you that.”
Julian sighed, frowning, “Is it this easy? Just… all of this time I could have come back to you and you’d have brought me in, open arms, and pick right up where we left off?”
“I don’t think I’d call this easy,” Garak said, “But, the short answer is yes.”
Julian smiled, took a step closer, and offered his hands. Garak took them and looked steadily into his companion’s eyes. Julian smiled, lopsided, eyes crinkling, “Then I guess I am moving to Cardassia.”
**
When Garak came home that night, Julian was gone. Garak had suspected the man would flee after their intimate chat and he chastised himself for not checking in during the day. Though he was glad somethings never really changed and he had Eji Ghimlil check the departure logs for the day to find out how Julian was returning to Earth. True to form, the man took the longest route possible and would arrive back on Earth in about two weeks. Garak idly hoped his job at the clinic would accept him back, and he assumed they would. After all, everyone could see how talented Julian was, his list of accomplishments read like an encyclopedia, pages upon pages of facts and statistics all proving the man was brilliant, compassionate, and dedicated to saving lives. The clinic knew they had a catch in the good doctor; knew they weren’t paying him enough and didn’t let him exercise his full skills. Though, Garak was sure Starfleet played a role in that. Julian’s augmentation made him a threat and keeping him subdued was a necessary precaution to take if Julian wasn’t to be a member of their staff any longer.
Garak asked Eji to find him a secure and direct route to Earth so he might arrive after Julian did. This time he wasn’t going to make it so easy for Julian to run away.
The Castellan wound up on a Federation ship and was given large accommodations. He met the Captain and first officer and was polite but didn’t have any desire to meet with them and he let this be known: he was going to Earth to collect something and that was all. They seemed to accept this and didn’t pry and Garak was left, for once, alone to read and think the long thoughts that came with age. Perhaps inevitably his mind turned to Julian.
It was tragic, he thought, the way Julian’s life had panned out. Born an unwanted child to ungrateful parents, his genetic code drastically altered so he could be more, living shadowed by lies until the truth was forced out; wrung like unwanted water from a cloth until nothing was left and the man was twisted and awkward. Garak thought that made them alike, outside of the augmentation, they had never been happy with their lots in lives and had both created fanciful half-truths about who they were to appeal to the people they met. Garak had known that right away about Julian. He hadn’t known what but he had known the man was hiding something and from the first day, he saw Julian drop a cup in the replimat then catch it seconds before it hit the ground. That was when the Cardassian knew he had to figure out what the secret was. Then, when it all came out Garak thought it ought to have been obvious. Julian was so good at everything, well, he was just good enough to be impressive but never perfect. The bridesmaid but not the bride went the tired human saying, and Garak thought that fit all of Julian’s hobbies and skills outside of his study of medicine.
Garak had lusted after Julian at first, but gradually that gave to a fondness unlike any Garak had ever felt, and now there was more to it. Elim Garak had never truly liked himself but when he was with Julian there were parts of his personality he found charming. Julian didn’t berate his lies; he debated them. Julian didn’t startle over the misactions of Garak’s youth; he nodded. It didn’t matter what Garak did; Julian would understand. Julian understood because they were alike. However, where Julian’s optimism and constant desire to do The Right Thing had rubbed off on Garak, well, some of Garak’s cynicism rubbed off on Julian. While Garak had grown into a more tolerant man who was able to embrace his culture and seek out help from others, who accepted the Federation as a work of mostly-good, Julian became hard. And Julian did not wear hardness well. Julian let that turn him bitter and paranoid. Garak saw it in the way he glanced over his shoulder, saw it when Julian scoffed at the reports from Starfleet on his desk, marveled at it when Julian casually accused him of not caring. Julian had forgotten how to really interact with people. He’d become so accustomed to being abandoned or changed that it wasn’t a surprise he began to resent everyone and even himself.
Garak couldn’t reconcile the hardened, nervous man he’d had in his bed a few days ago to the bright-eyed boy he’d met. They were so different. Garak wondered which was actually Julian, even though he knew it was neither. Julian hadn’t been happy in such a long time and it was just easier to play a character. Even as Julian had been asking Garak to ‘take their relationship to the next level’ Garak had known he was unprepared for what that meant. Julian hadn’t ever been vulnerable and he had avoided that with Garak for twenty years! Garak had known their time on Cardassia would be brief, and he suspected Julian would disappear once things became complicated, but Garak knew what had to be done now. He was older, he’d been bitter before and was aware that now, now, he had to use all those years of unused tenderness to bring his partner back. Garak wasn’t going to let Julian destroy himself.
**
“This is a much better plan,” the doctor told himself as he packed up his apartment, “This is what we needed. Just a change of scenery for awhile.”
He was moving to Mars. It was largely a planet for ex-patriots and the elderly and he fits both descriptions reasonably well. Mars made him think of Vic Fontaine and of days spent wishfully looking through portholes. It would be a quiet life, and maybe he’d be happy there, maybe he’d be able to really settle down for once. He didn’t plan on telling anyone where he was going and he had already changed the address of his padd so Miles wouldn’t be able to contact him. Presently, he was entertaining the idea of changing his name. He’d done it already before and aside from a few bureaucrats in the Federation knowing few others would be able to find him.
There was a knock on the door.
Julian turned around and hurried over, expecting it to be one of his very nosey neighbors asking him to turn down the music. As he went, he did request the computer to bring the volume down by forty percent. When the door swung open Julian gasped and stared at Garak who was standing at his doorstep looking impeccable and not at all upset.
“Oh, you’re packing!” he said and walked into the small apartment, “Good. I was worried I’d find you here lollygagging.”
Julian wondered what the Kardassi equivalent of ‘lollygag’ was but didn’t ask. Instead, he said: “What are you doing here?”
“My dear boy!” Garak exclaimed, “Did you think I’d make you move all the way to Cardassia with all of this stuff without any help? You are used to roughing it! No, don’t you worry, I have passage on a Federation ship to go from Earth back to Cardassia in two days. They’ve already agreed to store your items in their cargo bay. Wasn’t that nice?”
“No, Garak, I’m not—“ Julian began and Garak turned on him, opening his eyes wider, staring at Julian, then the man faltered and said, “I mean… you are thoughtful.”
“Thank you, my dear,” Garak said, “Tell me, what is it we’re packing next?”
They worked alongside one another for a while and Garak found Julian’s befuddled expression endearing. He was trying to figure out how to chase Garak away without telling him his actual plan. Garak decided to give him an out.
“It will be strange living with someone again,” Garak said, “I’ve been alone for such a long time. Did any of my habits bother you?”
Julian took the bait and said: “Well if you’re having second thoughts, we could wait. I could come visit a few times before we take this step.”
Garak feigned a gasp, “Oh, my dear, you are thoughtful. But we’ve done all of this packing!”
“Ah,” Julian looked around the room, “That’s okay. I wanted to move anyway.”
“Where to?” Garak asked.
Julian shrugged in an off-handed way, “Somewhere quiet.”
“Secluded?” Garak asked.
Julian nodded, “Somewhere without many people, maybe.”
“Maybe a planet that no one really goes to anymore,” Garak said, watching Julian who was slowly realizing Garak had known all along, “Mars, maybe.”
Julian dropped down onto a box of paper-bound books, priceless antiques, they were, and apparently a good stool as well. Julian looked up at him, pleading, “I’m sorry! I just realized I didn’t actually want to be in a relationship with you!”
“Why ever not, my dear? Is it my penchant for talking to the plants outside?” Garak asked.
“No, no,” Julian said, “I’d just… imagined us for a very long time, that’s all.”
“And I didn’t live up to the fantasy?” Garak asked.
“No, you’re amazing,” Julian said quickly, “It was even better than I’d imagined.”
Garak couldn’t have knelt before Julian if he wanted to, so he sat on the chair opposite instead, and leaned forward, “Why are you running away Julian?”
The human inhaled sharply and shook his head, “To be honest, Garak— “
“Elim,” Garak corrected.
“Elim,” Julian amended, “I just don’t want this to blow up in my face.”
“So, the best course of action is to avoid us altogether, is that it?” Garak asked.
Julian nodded, “I know that sounds stupid and childish. But I’ve spent… I’ve spent most of my life wanting to be with you and I think it may be better if we just don’t. Elim, I’m so sorry. I’m just not the person you want. I’m not the kind of person you think I am.”
Garak cocked his head to the side quizzically, “My dear?”
“Oh, please, don’t make me say this.” Julian begged, “I’m not good at this.”
“Might I say something you’re not going to appreciate?” Julian shrugged so Garak carried on: “Stop. Stop trying to be the person everyone thinks you should be. Stop trying to guess what I want and stop telling yourself you won’t measure up. Trust me, doctor, I know you very well and my perceptions of who you are couldn’t be more accurate.”
“That’s stupid,” Julian said, “You haven’t seen me in years.”
“I spent two weeks with you.” Garak told him, “And it was as if no time had passed at all. Julian Bashir, you are the second most insecure man I have ever met in my life.”
“Who’s the first?” Julian asked.
“Myself,” Garak said, “When I was young. Before I learned that I had to stop hoping for the best and start to actually do something with my life. My dear, a turning point was when I began to help the Federation against my own people, and the self-loathing, I am sure it was palpable,” here Julian nodded, “But you were back from the Gamma Quadrant and you were so eager to pretend you were alright. My boy, I tell you, your ability to sell yourself short is a marvel. You have been battered more than anyone I have ever met, literally nothing in your life has ever gone according to your plan.”
“Wow,” Julian said in a thick voice, “I feel so much better, thanks.”
“I admit,” Garak continued, “That I was fooled by your pragmatism for a long time as well. But we all have our tells and once I found yours I knew that it was all an act. Every single part of yourself that you had projected for everyone was fake. I know, much of your life has been lead as genuinely as possible, but it wasn’t really you, was it? My dear forcing yourself to be alone is going to kill you. It is killing you. You’re wasting away before my eyes and I won’t let you sit on Mars in isolation until you die.”
Julian was staring at him, and he inhaled shakily, “Elim you really have no idea what you’re asking. I don’t even know where I’d start.”
Garak took his hands and kissed his fingertips and Julian’s eyes filled up with tears, “You can start whenever and however you like; I’m not going to leave you to get lost in your head.”
When Julian finally began sobbing he was so quiet, and he flinched away from Garak’s arms at first. He’d never done this before; he hadn’t sought someone out to bare his soul since he was a child. After a few minutes and Garak was still there, one hand squeezing Julian’s fingers, the other gentle and firm against his thigh, Julian leaned forward and Garak caught him. He cried for a long time and when he stopped he was so tired he wanted to sleep, but he couldn’t move to the bed because Garak had his arms around his shoulders and they were swaying soft and slow to Vic’s I’ll Be Seeing You. Eventually, Garak rose and lead Julian to bed and Julian thought back to two months ago when he was being put to bed by Miles, but this time Garak climbed in alongside him. Julian rolled over and held tight to his partner and didn’t let go until the morning.
**
Julian’s birthday the following year was held at the station. Well, sort of, Garak and he were returning from a trip to the Tzenkethi system and had stopped at the station for old times’ sake. Julian didn’t know Garak had contacted his friends and let them know what day they’d be there and had asked them to come; it was meant to be a surprise. To reward his partner for all of his hard work this past year to overcome some of his most debilitating insecurities. They were seated at the bar, Quark was smiling and telling Julian a story about Morn, who was off-planet with his latest wife when the O’Brien’s arrived with Jake Sisko in tow.
Julian gasped, “What are you all doing here?” he accepted the hug from Molly, then one from Miles.
“We came for your birthday!” Keiko told him, “Garak contacted us a few weeks ago.”
Julian rounded on his partner, grinning and Garak only offered a shrug, “Odo is the only person I was unable to reach.” And that was all he was going to say on the matter.
Sure enough, soon Kira came in her Vedek robes accompanied by the now-retired Captain Sisko, Kasidy and their daughter Rebecca who Julian had never met. Shortly, Nog arrived with Rom and Leeta and those three were the only ones who’d brought gifts even after Garak assured them it wasn’t necessary. To Garak’s surprise Worf, who’d said he wasn’t coming, arrived with his wife Grilka and their two children, but Chancellor Martok was with them so the arrival was suddenly clear. Finally, Ezri docked and some of her crew joined the party. It was a good time for everyone; there was food and drinks which Garak had paid for in advance, and they all stepped into Vic’s program and the simulation had greeted Julian with an unprecedented amount of exuberance.
As Vic crooned I’ll Be Seeing You to Julian, Garak was cornered by Jake Sisko who was asking about the upcoming peace talks between the Cardassians and the Gorn. Garak declined discussion and turned to scan the faces of the party-goers. He spied Julian who was walking over, beaming. He looked lovely, his skin kissed by the sun of Cardassia, flushed darker than ever before, his beard was all white now, his hair tight and clean and styled with a fitted suit that flattered him. Garak felt a swell of pride that this was his partner.
Garak offered him a glass of wine, “You seem happy,” he said.
Julian gave him an exasperated look, “How often are you going to say that to me?” he asked.
“Until you admit it,” Garak replied.
Julian took the cup from Garak’s hand then leaned close, grinning, and pressed their foreheads together. Garak watched fondly, and Julian said, “You’ll just have to wait for me.”
“My dear doctor I have done little else,” Garak replied.
“Hey,” Miles said, leaning next to them, “Stop canoodling in the corner! I need to see your first dance as a married couple.”
Julian barked a laughed, “Chief, I told you not to tell anyone!”
“Who’ve I told?” Miles challenged, smiling at them, “Come on.”
Garak’s expression was one of alarm, “I’m sorry, my translator didn’t catch that- canoodle? Julian?”
“I’ll show you,” Julian said and placed the drink on the bar, then pulled Garak by the hand to the center of the dance floor.
**
“Castellan? Doctor Bashir can see you now,” said Nurse Drim, an aspiring medical professional who’d taken eagerly to becoming Julian’s research assistant and receptionist. Garak followed them back to Julian’s office, past his labs and his employees; many were Cardassian women who excelled at their work, and some were scientists from other races who’d been eager to come and work for Julian.
He’d opened the company a few years ago, and in his age, was working more than even Garak. The lab and its employees were always busy studying diseases which defied cures. Since their founding, they provided as much relief as possible to anyone who requested it. Julian had used his considerable reputation to gather the funds to build and get the company on its feet. They functioned without Starfleet interference and had saved thousands of lives. It was the kind of work Julian had always loved to do and had lost sight of during the war.
“Ah, Castellan,” Julian greeted him, “To what do I owe this great pleasure?”
“You forgot lunch on the table. Again.” Garak told him taking the wrapped meal from his bag, “fortunately I noticed it on my way out this morning.”
“Thank you. I was going to have someone go get it for me,” Julian lied and accepted the food.
“I’m sure you were,” Garak said, smiling, “Did you also forget the banquet tonight? I do hope not. We’re hosting ambassadors from the Gamma Quadrant. You could really use their business.”
“Elim,” Julian chided, “We’re not going to see the plights of freshly-warp-capable societies as a boon for business.”
“Of course we’re not.” Garak agreed, “I will be picking you up from the front doors in three hours. Do you need me to leave a note with Drim?”
“Hm?” Julian shook his head, opening the lunch and sitting down behind his desk to tuck in, “No, that’s not necessary.”
“Very well,” Garak said, “I’m off, then. See you tonight.” He left and tapped Drim on their shoulder, “Please do make sure my husband is at the doors in three hours. We have a benefit tonight.”
“Absolutely, sir,” Drim said and wrote a note on their clipboard.
Three hours later Garak stepped out of his vehicle and up the stairs of Julian’s lab. Julian came rushing out of the door, pulling on his jacket as Drim shooed him from behind. Garak beamed at them both, “Shall we go?” he asked.
Julian cast a look back at Drim, smiled, “I might have known.”
“Have a good night,” Drim said from the doorway.
Julian linked his arm with Garak’s and smiled, “I suspect we will.” He said, grinning and leaning in for a kiss from his partner.
Garak allowed it briefly, before nudging Julian toward the vehicle, “I have a change of clothes for you in the back. Also, a rather lewd proposition.”
“Oh, those are my favorites,” Julian replied and ducked into the vehicle. Garak signaled their driver to go and settled back to watch his partner.