Archive of Our Own ^beta

The lights were very much out, and it was getting colder in Ops. Miles O’Brien’s face was lit from below by a yellow torchlight, which wobbled and bobbed about as Julian, crouching low, used it to gesture.

“And I did tell him it didn’t fit me,” Julian went on, “but apparently shirts so tight that the buttons are one wrong move away from bursting in every direction are just ‘the in thing’ nowadays. I suppose I shouldn’t be arguing, he is the fashion expert.”

“Uh-huh,” Miles said, tinkering with a tool in a socket. “Julian, hold that thing steady, would you?”

“What? Oh. Yes.” Julian gripped the light with both hands, reminded of his task. “Come to think of it, though,” he added, “I haven’t actually seen anyone else on board the station wearing shirts that tight. Maybe it’s an Earth thing. He must keep updated. Fashion from all corners of the Quadrant. God knows I haven’t got the foggiest idea what’s trending on Earth.”

“Mm.”

“Then again,” Julian said, shrugging with the light and turning to sit with his back to the control panel, eyes set on the high, domed ceiling of Ops where almost no light reached except where he pointed it now, “Garak does have a tendency to misrepresent perfectly good—”

“Julian, for Pete’s sake!” Miles grabbed the torch and yanked Julian’s hands back to aim the light at the panel. “Either help or don’t help. Right now I’d be better assisted by a patch of carpet going up in flames.”

Julian tutted. “Sorry. Just a lot on my mind recently. I mean, with Garak and all.”

“There’s always a lot on your mind, with or without Garak,” Miles uttered. He paused in his tinkering to curl his hands by his mouth and huff. Particles of vapour burst between his fingers and dissipated in the chilling air.

“This really won’t do,” Julian said, frowning. “We’re all going to shiver to death in here unless this gets fixed.”

“Gah—” Miles’ cold hands fumbled on his tool and it clattered down through the grate on the floor. With a grunt of frustration, he thumped his head against the panel, eyes shut.

“I’ll get it.” Julian got up, legs unfolding. He ambled past and jumped down into the pit at the side of Ops, on the hunt for that pokey silver thing.

Sisko emerged from his office, grunting as he fought open his doors with all his strength. He looked irritated. “All right, that’s it. I’m not having my entire Ops crew icing over in a single shift. All non-essential personnel, go home to bed. Chief, Major, you stay. Doctor—”

“Found it!” Julian leapt up in triumph. His exuberance dimmed as he saw Sisko’s glare.

“Doctor, I suggest you remain here,” Sisko said with a reluctant sigh. “Who’s to say who’ll need medical attention when it’s this cold.” He thrust his hands under his arms, now very cross indeed. “And someone find us some blankets!”

“I’m on it, Captain,” Jadzia said. Behind her, Kira ushered Bajoran officers into the turbolift. The turbolift was the only thing working here, as only Ops was out of power, and the turbolift was technically not locked to this level. The only problem was that it went down, but couldn’t come back up again. Anyone who was planning on leaving had to leave now.

“What exactly are you doing?” Sisko asked Jadzia. “Don’t tell me you’re staying.”

“And miss all the fun? Benjamin,” she said with warm disdain. “You know me better. Worf, catch.” Worf caught the reflective silver blankets she’d found in a wall panel.

“I believe that, as a Weapons Officer, it is my duty to guard Ops, Captain,” Worf said solemnly, going to the steps in front of Sisko’s office and handing the captain a blanket. “Without functioning weapons controls, the station and these officers are extremely vulnerable at present.”

Sisko pinched the inner corners of his eyes, but accepted this suggestion and a blanket with a sigh. “Give O’Brien a blanket, Lieutenant. He freezes, we all freeze.”

“Thanks,” Julian said on Miles’ behalf, tucking that silver sheet around his friend’s shoulders, patting him once it was secure. “How’s it going, Chief?”

“Could use a coffee,” Miles said wistfully, knowing full well that the replicator was about as functional as a crumbling brick. “And a hot meal.”

Kira’s voice came from the other side of Ops, forthright, “Right now the best anyone can offer is one of these things.” Between her palms, she gripped a thick gel-filled stick, which crackled as she bent it, and it began to glow neon yellow. She tossed it to Julian, who caught it, and handed it to Miles with a grin.

Miles held it for a minute, relieved that it thawed out his hands.

He soon got back to his control panel, watched over by Julian, who busied himself trying to keep his own nose from going numb, pawing at it and snuffling like a hamster. Dax and Kira settled into a conversation about how to deal with the voles that caused the power outage in the first place, and Julian listened, still doing his best to light Miles’ way.

A loud clatter came from a distant wall panel.

Worf drew his phaser; Kira drew a throwing knife from her boot; Jadzia looked to Sisko, ready to protect him, while Sisko just looked interested, sitting wrapped in a blanket on his little staircase. Miles only glanced up, but Julian crouched by him, ready to spring up if anyone got near.

The wall panel released and a Ferengi head popped out, facing the wrong way. It turned.

“Whoa, jeez, take it easy,” Quark said, hands out of the wall panel as he started to crawl free, those glowing sticks hung from his shoulders by string. “Anyone would think you were expecting a herd of voles to burst out.”

Worf harrumphed. “You are not much better.”

“Talk about rude,” Quark said, getting to his feet and yanking his coat straight. “You’re not getting a blanket.”

“Blanket?” Jadzia asked.

“Heard it was getting chilly in here and thought you could do with a pick-me-up.” Quark smiled. He reached back into the tunnel and pulled out a wheely crate of supplies. “I got blankets and individually-wrapped dinners. None of that fun-size nonsense; all full, hearty meals.”

That drew Miles’ eyes away from the panel. “You got any pies? Could do with a pie.”

“Just for you, Chief, I brought a Cornish pasty,” Quark said, trundling his cart over to Miles and handing him a half-moon pastry in a glossy recyclable wrap. “That’ll be two strips of latinum.”

Miles spluttered. “You’re charging us for this crap?”

“Hey, if you don’t want it...” Quark took it back. “Being hungry and cold comes free of charge.”

“Wait... no...” Miles reached longingly for the pastry. He seethed, but placed his thumbprint on the payment padd Quark pulled from inside his long coat. “Next time I’m charging you for fixing your replicator.”

Another thump came from near the turbolift, and everyone turned.

Odo emerged from a gooey puddle on the floor, the last of him sneaking up from inside the turbolift shaft. His eyes set immediately on Quark. “I thought I’d find you here. What did you do this time, Quark, rig the power couplings to overload on cue? Steal the air circulation systems and the lightbulbs?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Kira smiled, “but it was teething baby voles that chewed through several sections of cable. We’ve replaced the cables and put the voles in stasis, but the failsafe fuses are all blown and it’s going to take a while to fix.”

Jadzia added, “Only one man on this station who even knows how the Cardassian pieces fit together.”

Miles made a frustrated noise. “We know damn well that’s not true, but I’m not having Garak up here, making things worse.”

“Oh, how very insulting.”

Everyone turned, alarmed to see Garak standing in the turbolift, hands on the metal rungs. He stepped out in perfect elegance, apparently oblivious to the confused mutterings of everyone around him.

“Garak—” Julian clung to his silver blanket, pacing across Ops towards his Cardassian friend. “How the hell did you get up here? Everything’s broken.”

“Is it?” Garak rubbed his hands, his exhale coming out cloudy. “I truly hadn’t noticed, doctor. I stepped through fifteen protective environmental forcefields and rerouted Ops’ accessibility protocols without any significant issues.” He paused, then noted, “My dear doctor, it is terribly chilly in here – isn’t there something you can do about the temperature?”

Kira threw up her hands in exasperation while Worf grumbled and Jadzia tried to hide a laugh behind a hand.

“Garak,” Julian said, placing a hand on Garak’s shoulder and turning him away from the others, seeking some semblance of privacy, “if you didn’t know what was going on up here, what on Bajor are you doing here, exactly?”

Garak looked at him brightly. “Why, doctor, I’m aware you like to visit Ops for a little gossip now and then; I simply sought an audience for one of my stories.”

“Oh?” Julian was suddenly all ears – as was Quark, who loomed closer, holding a tall pile of blankets.

“Five strips of latinum,” Quark said, as Garak and Julian looked his way. “You seem awfully cold, Garak, couldn’t you do with an extra layer?”

“What he could do with,” Sisko said, “is a swift about-turn, a march into the turbolift, and a fast descent back to whence he came.”

“Captain!” Garak cried. “And I thought I was always welcome here.”

“You are!” Julian exclaimed, wanting very much to know the gossip Garak had brought with him. “This is just a difficult time, that’s all. You could help out, actually, if you don’t ice over first.” As if on cue, Garak shivered – and so Julian took off his own blanket and wrapped it snugly over Garak’s shoulders.

Garak sighed in relief. “Oh, much better. How kind of you to warm it up for me.”

Julian touched Garak’s hands a few times as he made sure the blanket met properly over his chest. “Well, wouldn’t want to have your tail get frostbite. Sit down, would you? Tuck your tail close and tell me your story already.”

“Oh, ff-for the love of the Prophets,” Kira uttered, teeth starting to chatter. “Quark, giv-ve me a blanket.”

“Six strips of latinum.”

“Six?! You told Garak five!”

“What can I say? I like him better. He pays me for things you’d never even consider buying.”

Furious, Kira paid her six strips of latinum, took a gaudy blue terrazzo-patterned blanket, and sat down on the steps next to Sisko, shuddering with cold. Sisko nudged up a bit so their sides pressed for warmth, and Kira smiled gratefully.

Odo stood by Miles’ workstation, arms folded, observing the work with disdainful interest. He kept the light steady, unlike Julian. “If Garak were to help,” Odo said, “would this task be completed any faster?”

“No,” Miles said firmly. “First I’d have to explain everything I’ve done, and everything I’m in the middle of doing, and— Just, no. Garak can keep Julian occupied and frankly that benefits everyone.”

“Hey! Now look here,” Julian said, looking at Miles while swiping the silver blanket smoothly down Garak’s shoulder ridges, sealing the drafts. “I can hear you, you know.”

“He’s right, though,” Quark said, handing Worf a covered plate of worms, much to Worf’s surprise. “Garak’s no good for this. The person you need is Rom. Tell you what! I’ll get you Rom, for a bar of latinum.”

“Noo,” Sisko sang firmly. “Quark, if you’re going to be helpful, I suggest you send for some hot drinks, and make it fast. I want coffee, I want cocoa, I want vats of the stuff—”

“Tarkalean tea, please,” Julian said, tucking the hem of the silver blanket under Garak’s tail ridges. “Extra sweet. And—” he checked with Garak, “red leaf tea. That’s Garak’s favourite.”

More orders came bouncing from every direction, and Quark uttered agreeably, if in a flustered way, and finally noted the full order down on his padd, and sighed. “I’ll be back soon, then.”

“We’ll make it a party,” Jadzia agreed.

“Quark,” Sisko said, “if you charge us for a single molecule or degree of temperature in those drinks I’ll have you hung, drawn, and quartered. In space.”

Quark gulped. “That.” He smiled. “Doesn’t sound fun.”

“Believe me, it won’t be.” Sisko smiled darkly.

Quark left via his wall panel, a bit faster and more nervously than he’d come in.

Odo chortled, eyes crinkling in amusement. “If only I could still make him that skittery.”

“Oh, you haven’t lost your touch, Odo,” Jadzia assured him sweetly, one hand on his shoulder as she passed. “He’s more scared of you than he’ll ever admit.”

“If only that were true. I’ve gone as soft as he has. He barely even schemes anymore.”

“Doctor,” Garak asked, “is it just me or is it getting colder in here?”

Julian gave a grim smile. “It is, you’re not imagining it.” He picked up two blankets from the pile Quark had left, and flung one over Garak’s head and tucked it closed under his chin, feeling Garak’s jaw jump as his teeth started to chatter. “No fun for a Cardassian up here, is it?” He put the second blanket around himself and sat down on the same ledge he’d put Garak. His toes were going numb in his boots.

“This is q-quite the opposite activity than the cheerful and friendly one I had in mind when I came up here, I asss-s-s-sure you,” Garak uttered. “I very much misjudged how cold it would get.”

“M’Hmmmhjg,” Miles mumbled, mouth full of Cornish pasty.

“Pardon?” Julian called.

“I shed,” Miles chewed and swallowed. “I said, sure ya did, buddy. You came up here to ‘gossip’, did you? Not—” he lifted his chin to indicate Julian, “snuggle under a blanket with him, eh?”

Garak stiffened his posture in indignation. “The nerve! Absolutely not, Mr. O’Brien. As if my only purpose in life were to squirm my way into the good doctor’s intimate space and have my way with him. ‘Snuggle’. Indeed.”

Julian gave him a soft, smiley look. “Garak, do you want to share my blanket?”

Garak’s eyes shot to him. “I beg your pardon?”

“You can if you want.”

Garak stared. “H— How... gracious of you.”

Julian beamed at him, and lifted a blanket-draped arm like a wing. “Come here.” He hugged his blanketed arm over Garak’s shoulders and the other arm around his chest.

Garak let out a little “Oh” of surprised delight, and relaxed. Julian rested his cheek on Garak’s shoulder and shut his eyes.

“Worf, come help me with this,” Jadzia said, fighting with a blanket. “Need someone to stretch it out. Here, to there— Yeah, that corner. Tuck it in there.”

“What are you doing?” Worf asked, while helping.

“Making a blanket fort!” Jadzia said, having put a saggy cloth roof over Miles. “Our best chance of getting through this is by keeping the Chief toasty. And there’s nothing cosier than a fort, right?”

“A fort is... a war stronghold.”

“Not when it’s made of blankets,” Jadiza said.

“I highly doubt it would be of any use at all,” Worf stated.

“Oh, come on,” Kira said to Jadzia. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“No!” Jadzia complained. “I’m serious. It’ll trap the warmth in. Like a den.”

“I don’t mean the idea,” Kira corrected. “Idea’s fine. I mean— Look at those corners. You’re building the thing all wrong.”

“I am?”

“Please! Which of us spent years living in tents?” Kira got up from beside Sisko, sweeping off her ill-patterned cover and tossing the blanket to her Trill friend. “Let’s say O’Brien’s panel is the back wall; we build around that. Seal in the drafts, especially on the outer side – one accidental thoroughfare for air will have all the heat sapped out in seconds. Put something heavy on that corner. Odo – Odo, hey, pass me that?”

“This?” Odo picked up Worf’s almost-empty plate.

“No. But sure, that’ll do. Maybe take the worms off first.”

Julian watched his friends through one sleepy eye, then twisted his chin on Garak’s shoulder to ask, almost in a whisper, “How are you doing?”

“Hm, so-so,” Garak uttered. “Have I ever mentioned how pleasant you smell?”

Julian wrung out a smile, eyes rolling. He couldn’t think of a single word to say that wouldn’t sound like flirting if he said it aloud.

Odo became a tent pole, briefly, to prevent the half-constructed drapery from collapsing over O’Brien’s head of curls. Amongst all the faffing around, the Chief barked, “Light!”

Sisko got up reluctantly and picked up the fallen torch. He held it steady, then took another torch that Kira handed him, assisting both the fort team and the repairman with illumination.

Odo stopped being a tent pole and became a pulley system, cranking a blanket peak up-up-up towards the ceiling, where he looped some real rope up and then retracted down into his Humanoid form, looking up proudly at what, to Julian, looked like a miniature circus tent that had gone through the wash with every single roll of fabric in Garak’s Clothiers. Julian knew very little about fashion, yes, but he knew enough about print and texture to recognise that Quark’s blankets were butt-ugly.

Garak started to shiver, loudly.

Julian looked at him with concern. Then he turned to the others and called, “Any chance there’s another blanket spare?”

Kira kicked the ugliest one off the floor, bundled it up, and hurled it towards Julian, who caught it on a boot toe.

“Here you go,” Julian said, unfolding the blanket and rotating it to get the long side aligned with their waists, draping it over their thighs. “That ought to do it.”

“If I may speak frankly, dear doctor,” Garak said curtly, the moment he saw the zig-zag polka-dot paw-print leopard-spot pattern on the puce-coloured blanket, “I think I’d rather freeze.”

Julian snorted. “I’ll bury you in ugly fabric before I bury you for real, Garak. Trust me, this really isn’t the time for vanity.”

“It’s not how I look, doctor, it’s how this looks. This is perh-hhaps the worst affront to my eyes I’ve seen s-s-since certain events I bore witness to during the Occupation.”

“And like I said,” Julian replied, “given you waltzed up here of your own accord and don’t seem inclined to leave despite the fact you could, I reiterate: this is not the time to worry about how pretty your life-saving device is.”

Jadzia chuckled, arms laden with Sisko’s blanket, which Worf was tacking to another blanket. “Tell you what,” Jadzia remarked to the people around her, “the prettiest life-saving device around here is probably Julian. Bet Garak wouldn’t mind that wrapped around him.”

Sisko bellowed a laugh, head back, and even Miles chortled, though his eyes never left his work.

Julian bristled with embarrassment – only for his inner heat to double as he saw Garak peering at him with dazzling eyes, flashing blue as one of the torchlights swept their way.

“She’s not entirely wrong, doctor,” Garak mused, a sultry quality to his low voice.

“Oh, stop it,” Julian whispered, smiling at his lap, eyes darting away.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Julian met his eyes again, seeing Garak’s affectionate smile and adoring eyes.

Too flustered, Julian avoided giving an answer by pretending to get distracted. “Good God, haven’t you people ever made a fort before?” he called to them. “You’re making it too small. If we’re all going to fit inside it needs to be snug but not—”

“This fort is only for Chief O’Brien,” Worf said defensively. “We are keeping him warm.”

“Yes, and he’ll be a lot warmer if we’re all in there with him,” Julian remarked. “Body heat, and all that. Plus, it’ll be fun! We can all gather around and Garak can finally tell us whatever it was he came up here to tell us.”

“Well, you come and help, then,” Kira said, “if you’re such an expert.”

“Maybe I will!” Julian threatened. He glanced to Garak, patted his thigh, then leapt up and hurried to help. “And don’t forget room for snacks and pillows, too. We could be here all night and we need to be comfy.”

In due time, the fort became a wonky structure that from the outside looked like a glowing dodecahedron, and, once Julian crawled through the slit opening, was just as cosy and snug as the forts he once shared with Kukalaka had been. He peeked his head out and said, “This is quite lovely, actually.”

“Been busy, I see,” Quark said, approaching the fort with sly trepidation, a rattling crate of flasks heavy in his hands. “You got room in there for one more? I’m telling you, my knees can’t take another trip through those tubes.”

Odo disapproved, but once Kira had her coffee and moaned in relief, he looked a lot less bitter.

Julian got back out of the blanket fort, bumping into Kira on the way and apologising. One by one, everyone crawled in, but Julian went back to Garak, who still perched shivering on his ledge.

Julian beckoned. “Come on. Up with you.”

“C-Co-cold.”

“You won’t be in a minute. Pick your tail up, would you, you’re dragging all the blankets on the floor.”

Saggy and sniffy and shivery, Garak fumbled his way down to the entrance of the fort, and shuffled in on hands and knees. The bulk of all his blankets pulled at the construction – Julian yelped, and only his fast hands prevented the entire thing from plopping down on everyone’s heads.

Sisko and Worf were still outside, so they helped him pin the fort back up.

The lights from inside flickered and danced, jostled by shadows. Soft laughter came from within; Jadzia projected the shadow of her hand onto the plainest blanket, and did a funny voice as her fox puppet said, “Whoooo’s lonelyyyy? Are you lonelyyy?”

The group’s peal of laughter made Julian grin, but he wondered who that fox was talking to.

“Oh, don’t,” Kira said to Jadzia. “You’re making him mopey. I hate looking at that.”

“Julian,” Jadzia laughed, calling out. “Your boyfriend needs you.”

“Boyf—” Julian wheezed. “I don’t ha—” He gritted his jaw, then ducked his head, surrendering to his blush as Sisko patted him on the back and squeezed his shoulder.

With a sigh, then a smile, Julian crawled into the fort, gratified by the immediate warmth and sense of camaraderie that had ignited in here in mere seconds. The lights that had been so hard to control before were now beaming pleasantly in a pile from the middle of the ring of Starfleet-issue triangular pillows, and everyone’s smiling faces were lit in a soft amber-white.

Quark, with a flask in hand, looked delighted to be cross-legged between Jadzia and Odo – and Odo didn’t even look bothered, smiling a cartoonish smile as wide as it went. Kira sipped her coffee and hung from an elbow over Jadzia’s shoulder, watching Jadzia figure out how to make her hand shadow look like a bull.

Julian apologised to Miles while shuffling up closer, then inched around him to get between him and Garak, intending to scoot backwards into place. Garak no longer had any trace of ‘mopiness’ on his face. In fact, he was sparkly-eyed and smiling with pleasure, opening his blanket wide to engulf Julian from behind without warning.

“Oh—!” Julian glanced back at Garak in surprise. “Hello.”

“Hello, my dear. How very warm you are.” Garak rested his cheek on the nape of Julian’s neck, sighing in contentment.

As the tent filled with raucous coos of delight, Julian glanced at his friends in embarrassment, trying to suppress a shudder as he felt the tip of Garak’s tail worming its wriggly way over and around his right inner thigh. “I-I-I-I, um, um, see, it’s. He’s just. Um. um.”

Sisko and Worf came crawling inside at last, Sisko wearing a huge grin, Worf looking constipated, but less so when he sat down, closed up the opening, and began to enjoy the ambience. With all nine of them inside, the heat was comfortable enough that nobody had a blanket on anymore, but sat on them or had them draped around their crossed legs.

“Ugh, this is just too saccharine to bear,” Quark said, hands up, adjusting his hands like he was framing a photograph. “How I wish I had a camera now. But! More than that, how I wish I could be charging admission to see this. On Ferenginar the youngsters learn about profit properly from an early age – I can’t believe you put up a fort and let me in for free. And then fill the thing with blackmail material as beautiful as that.” He threw his hands in a despairing gesture to Garak, who seemed to be napping on Julian’s back, arms around his middle.

Julian was still blushing. Perhaps more so, now.

Sisko smiled, but pushed past the temptation to tease, leaning his face towards Miles. “How’s it coming, Chief?”

“Aaah. Power’s flowing. Circuits need a chance to warm up before I can start matching them. Might as well take a break.” He turned around, accepting the flask of Raktajino that Worf handed him. “Thanks.” He put it down and reached to snap another glowstick.

Garak snuggled against Julian, murmuring something incomprehensible. Miles snickered, for the first time seeing the way Garak had plastered himself to Julian’s back, and how Julian had sunk into the embrace comfortably, beaming.

“Talk about gossip,” Jadzia uttered to Kira. “Garak comes up here burning with the station’s hottest story and he’s gonna leave having become a hotter one.”

“Leave him alone,” Julian smiled. “He’s probably just... tired.”

“From what, releasing a herd of teething voles under Ops?” Odo suggested. “Those animals didn’t come from nowhere, doctor, and if, by some miracle, it wasn’t Quark’s doing—”

“Hey! It could still be me,” Quark complained.

“It wasn’t you,” Kira said. “When we were stunning voles and pulling them out of the floor, you were trying to sell Morn one of the Nagus’ toenails.”

“And I would’ve gotten a good price for it too, if I hadn’t heard of a better opportunity up in Ops.”

“Like I said.”

Quark grumbled under his breath, “Could still be me.”

“Who’s going to wake him up?” Kira grinned, eyes on Garak. “Julian should do it.”

Julian retorted, “We don’t need to wake him up.”

“Why, doctor?” Sisko purred, dark-eyed and deeply amused. “Worried he’ll start flirting with you again?”

“No,” Julian said, before hearing his own petulant tone, and adding, “Sir.”

“He’s not worried,” Miles said lightly, watching Odo make shadow puppets a hundred times more accurate than Jadzia’s. “He likes it. All the tight little shirts Garak makes him wear, all those stupid excuses Garak makes up to come up here. Face it, already, Julian – you’re into it.”

“Miles! I can not believe you’d actually—”

“Ugh, don’t bother, we all know,” Quark said. “No secrets here, doctor.”

Worf grunted. “Does nobody have anything more substantial to discuss to pass the time than this petty – romance? I am in no way interested in this.”

“Seconded,” Odo said gruffly.

Julian’s ears burned.

“Worf, I always wondered, how come you don’t do anything with your hair?” Jadzia asked. “It’s so long and luscious. Even for special occasions all you do is—”

Worf interrupted loudly, “Dr. Bashir is in love and is pretending not to be.”

Laughter filled the tent, and even Julian found himself sobbing a little behind his hands, blushing and grinning hard. Soon his head dropped, fingers linked behind his burning neck. The slump disturbed Garak from his nap, and he murmured, coming to his senses, tail rattling in agitation against Julian’s thigh.

“Hm? Hm’hm. Wh... What have I missed?” Garak asked, tentatively alert, self-conscious about the fact he’d dropped off. He gave Julian a guilty look. Julian smiled back, feeling his gaze turn tender and intense as his heart soared.

After a hesitation, Garak asked, “D... Doctor, why are you... looking at me like that?”

“No reason,” Julian lied, eyes dipping to Garak’s lips. “I just have one question. Ih— It’s for a game. An old Earth game. Truth or Dare, it’s called.”

Garak clearly didn’t like the sound of that (or any words surrounding the word ‘truth’), but said, “Mm?”

“It works like this: I ask a question. If you don’t want to answer with the truth, you don’t have to. But then I’ll give you a dare – a challenge. And you can’t refuse. But you won’t know what the dare is unless you refuse the question. Understand?”

“...I do. But I don’t see why...?”

Julian swallowed. Then, in the ringing silence of eight other people holding their breath and restraining their smiles, he asked, voice tight, “Garak, were you, in any way, shape or form, involved in a plot to release a dozen baby voles under Ops while in possession of the express knowledge that they most enjoy chewing cables flowing with higher power voltages, of the sort used to power much of Ops?”

Garak’s wide eyes narrowed, and he looked angrily at Quark.

“Hey, I said it was me,” Quark said. “Not my fault they didn’t believe me.”

“No,” Garak said to Julian.

“No, you didn’t have anything to do with it?”

“No, I refuse to answer.”

Which was almost an answer in itself, Julian thought, but pressed on anyway, heart aflutter, lips prickling with anticipation. “Then,” he whispered, “Garak? I dare you to kiss me.”

Garak could have looked away in alarm at their audience, but his eyes didn’t leave Julian’s. “You— Doctor... I’m not sure I underst—”

“Kiss me.” Julian started to flush with heat, leaning in. “Garak, for God’s sake, kiss me—” He grabbed Garak’s collar and kissed him first, mouth open, body flaming, eyes shut and legs twisted in sagging blankets. Garak shuddered for a moment but then took Julian’s face in his hands, head tilting, breathing out.

Julian’s skull was so full of thumping, rushing white noise that only when his wet lips unstuck from Garak’s and his lungs emptied across Garak’s throat did he realise his friends were in uproar. Sisko rolled his eyes but smiled; Jadzia was slapping her knees in jubilation, Kira was pretending not to have seen but was smiling too widely to fake it. Even Odo made a flat sound of vague contentment. Worf looked grim, but smug. Miles reached over and clapped Julian on the back, making him jump. Quark shook his head, uttering, “About damn time.”

Clearing his throat, Julian sat cross-legged again, shoulders up near his ears. “Right,” he said. “Well. That’s that.” He gave Garak a sidelong glance, both starting to grin as the clamour finally began to settle. Garak slipped a hand into Julian’s, and Julian’s breath shivered free, an easy smile finally rising.

It was silent for a while.

It became a comfortable silence.

Then Sisko’s deep, melodic hum came from his corner of the fort, one note breaking towards a second, then a third, long and pure and low.

Slowly, a tune Julian recognised eased forth, something he knew, knew from a long time ago...

“Ain’t no sunshine when sheee’s gone...”

Julian took a breath, and met Miles’ eyes. They both knew it.

They joined in, Julian’s throat vibrating with the words, “It’s never warm when she’s awayy...” The bass felt glorious in the depths of his own ears.

Garak’s mutter came tickling in Julian’s ear, “What is this?”

“Old Earth song,” Julian whispered to Garak, and everyone else who didn’t know.

Jadzia knew, as she sang with Benjamin, smiling, “Ain’t no suUNSHine when she’s gOOone, and she’s always gone too-oo long, anytime – she goes awayy.”

“It’s beautiful,” Kira uttered.

“Bill Withers,” Sisko said. “Nineteen-eighty-one. Four hundred years old, and still a masterpiece.”

“Wonder this time, where sheee’s gone,” Julian sang with Miles, eyes meeting.

“Wonder if sheee’s goo-one to stayyy...”

Kira had both hands on the sides of her neck, eyes glimmering with tears. Quark stared open-mouthed at the Captain, who sang with his eyes shut, hand on his heart, head shaking.

“Ain’t no sunshIIne when she’s gO-Hone, and this house just ain’t no home, anytiime, she goes away...”

Julian hummed the instrumental, fingers splitting between Garak’s and taking hold.

Garak shut his eyes and rested his forehead on Julian’s cheek, as if to feel the vibration as they sang on, and on—

“And I know, I know, I know, I know—”

Miles leaned towards Julian. “How many?”

“Twenty-six,” Julian replied.

“I know, I know, I know, I know—”

Sisko started to laugh while singing, his teeth and eyes bright, sharing a moment with Jadzia where he ran out of breath and she kept going; she looked to Julian, who just laughed, and then to Miles, who tried to keep pace with her from the fifteenth “I know” through to the twenty-fourth, but wheezed, and Jadzia won, only to snort right at the end and Sisko was the one to burst out, soulful and joyous, “Heyyy, ya oughta leave that young thing alone...!” Garak smiled at Sisko there, and Sisko rolled his eyes, admitting, “But ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone.”

All together now: Sisko and Miles and Julian and Jadzia sang, joined by Kira and Worf as they hummed a bassline and a melody, having picked it up as they went along.

“Ain’t no sunshine when shee’s goone...
Only darkness, every day...
Ain’t no sunshINE when she’s go-hone!
And this house just ain’t no-oo home,
Anytiiime, she goes away...”

“Anytiiiime she goes away...”

“Anytiiiiiime... she goes... away...”

Kira exhaled in a puff through rounded lips, shaking her head in awe. “It’s beautiful – but it’s so sad.”

“Ah, but I only hear joy,” Sisko said, eyes crinkled as he gazed at Jadzia.

“As do I,” Garak murmured, eyes and nose to Julian’s neck. “As do I, dear Julian. Your voice... is beyond compare.”

Julian smiled, too shy to look back. “Thank you.”

“Aww.” Jadzia reached to pat Garak. “You’re cute. But you’re in so much trouble for those voles.”

“I’m telling you, it was me!” Quark yelped. “What do I have to do around here to get someone to believe that I’m still a diabolical criminal mastermind?!”

Garak laughed softly, eyes turning to Quark in gratitude.

Odo harrumphed and folded his arms. “Show me evidence, Quark.”

“The fact I had piles of blankets ready to go isn’t enough?”

“No.”

“Oh, evidence. I’ll give you evidence. You, Odo, you’re coming with me. Evidence. Puh!” Angrily, he crawled through the fort and made everyone yelp as he kneed them in sensitive places, and finally left.

Odo chuckled to himself, and Kira bumped his arm with a fist. “Go get him, Odo.”

Gleefully, Odo melted down and snuck out of the fort from under a blanket hem.

“Sing it again,” Kira said to Jadzia. “The song. I wanna hear it again.”

Jadzia met Miles and Julian’s eyes, and Sisko raised his shoulders in happy surrender, while even Worf settled comfortably to listen once more.

“Ain’t no sunshiine, when sheee’s gone...”

They sang the same song over and over until they ran out of breath, until Kira and Worf knew all the words, until Sisko could sing every single “I know” without needing to inhale, until their voices cracked and became slow with fatigue.

Miles still hummed along, focused on his repairs, back turned to the others, but with Sisko’s assistance, a content smile, a full belly, and warm hands, he made quick work of resetting all the matched circuits.

Yet, even when it was all done, and the lights came on in Ops, Kira went and flipped them back off again, and returned to their cosy tent, laying down with her head in Jadzia’s lap, eyes closed as she listened.

Julian was already curled up with Garak, missing half the notes he hummed, but still trying to keep his eyes open. Garak’s tail patted the rhythm like a metronome, keeping time even as the party drifted towards sleep, so late at night.

Eventually all anyone heard was the distant bickering of Odo and Quark, which eventually fell silent, and after a while came a laugh, and an agreeable tone. And then the clink of a glass, and a more familiar grumble as Odo told Quark off.

All was right with the world, Julian thought, as he fell asleep wrapped in Garak’s arms.

Julian woke from sleep the way soup was stirred: something sharp and shiny dipped into him and swirled around, bringing up lumpy thoughts and sediment from the night gone by. His colour brightened, and he looked around, glossy at last. And then he steamed, all at once, evaporating in shock as he sat up.

He was inside a blanket fort, and light of a hundred colours bled in from outside, filtered through over-patterned fabric. He could hear voices, and the whirrs and bleeps of Ops working normally.

He glanced behind him and saw with a pang of embarrassed delight that Garak was there with him, waking too, his dextrous lizard tail patting around for warmth now that Julian had lifted himself away.

Miles came crawling in and caught sight of Julian awake. “Oh, there you are. Finally.” He plugged some data into the panel he’d repaired last night, then looked back over his shoulder. He grinned. “Just a heads up, everyone’s talking about how you and Garak ‘slept together’ last night. No gossip’s topped this for months.”

Julian groaned, smiling with his face dropping to a palm. “Thaaat’s great.”

Garak nudged himself up onto his elbows. “Good morning, my dear.”

Julian lay down again, gratified when Garak lay with him, gazing at him softly.

“Hey,” Julian said eventually.

Miles glanced back, then snorted. “You’d better get yourself fed, washed, and watered, Julian, your shift starts in half an hour.”

Julian grunted. “Urghh.”

Garak chuckled, cradling his jaw. “Any chance I could share breakfast with you, dear doctor?”

Julian smirked. “You’d better count on it, dear tailor. I don’t exactly take well to ‘sleeping’ with someone and being left to eat alone the next morning.”

Garak hummed a laugh, eyes bright and crinkled with joy.

Miles rolled his eyes and crawled out, muttering, “Take this damn thing down, would you, it’s in the way.” But he said it nicely.

Sluggishly, Julian and Garak got up. Garak stacked all the pillows and folded the tangled blankets, muttering all the while about how horrendously ugly they were, and how he didn’t like to waddle around like this until he’d at least visited the bathroom first. Meanwhile Julian began untacking the fort, quietly wishing he didn’t have to. Their safe little space melted away, returning to the plain, nondescript corner of Ops that it always was before.

Julian would always think of this corner fondly.

“Well,” Garak said, handing all the blankets and pillows to a Bajoran who came to help. “It seems our little game is at an end.”

Julian glanced down, smiling as he saw Garak’s tail curl hopefully.

“Well, I don’t know if it’s over completely,” Julian supposed, cocking his head towards the turbolift, leading Garak that way. “If you ever get cold...? I would be quite happy to, uhmm... help you keep... warm.”

“I’m always cold, doctor,” Garak said. “At night, especially.”

Julian grinned, chin to his sternum. “Oh, in that case...” He cast Garak a devious glance, then swept a hand close for him to hold. “Perhaps I’ll see you at twenty-five-hundred hours.”

Garak smirked back. “Perhaps you will, indeed. And I can tell you that delicious piece of station hearsay at long last.”

They got into the turbolift together, distantly hearing Odo yell something about an escaped vole. Garak began to chuckle, then laugh, and then he full-on guffawed, a hand on his middle, head tossed back.

“One of yours?” Julian asked, smiling as the lift descended.

“All the voles are mine, dear doctor,” Garak said. “But you knew that already.”

Julian grinned to himself. “I did,” he said. “How’s my place for breakfast?”

“Mmm. It would be my pleasure.”