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"Jadzia, I need your help. Can we talk somewhere private? I don't want anyone overhearing."
There were few words that were more music to Jadzia's ears than the panicked stream that had just come out of Julian's mouth.
"Of course!" Jadzia and Julian slipped into the science lab and shut the door. "What's up, Julian?"
"Well, you see, I have a date -- I mean, a dinner. A dinner date? I don't know -- with Garak tomorrow night, and I don't know what to wear."
"So is this your first date?"
"I don't know! I don't know if it even is a date. Maybe it's just a dinner. I can say with certainty it is the first dinner we've had together."
"So it's your first dinner, which may or may not be a date."
"Exactly. And since it's dinner, it's not like I can wear my Starfleet uniform. Wait -- can I?"
"Not unless you want to look like a square."
"You're right, you're completely right."
Jadzia pressed a calming hand on his shoulder. "Julian, I was joking. You can wear anything you like, your uniform included. But I'm happy to give you some advice." She paused to consider. "Where are you eating dinner?"
"At the Andorian restaurant."
Jadzia pursed her lips. "Ooh, that's tough," she said, referring both to the problem of deciphering the nature of the date and the task of picking an appropriate thing to wear. The Andorian restaurant was a nice place, with good atmosphere for dinner, perfectly appropriate for a first date, but it wasn't a place that you really only chose for dates. In terms of formality, the most formal clothing would be overkill and so was off the table, but that still left a range of dress from casual to clearly dressing Nice.
"I know, right?!" Julian ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
"I'll need to see what options you've got in your closet. I can stop by your quarters at 1700 hours."
"That would be great," Julian said, letting out a breath of relief. "Thank you, Jadzia."
"Whether or not it's a date," Jadzia said, as she took out various shirts and trousers from Julian's dresser and inspected them, "dinner is a great chance to show off a side of yourself that Garak might not be familiar with. You should choose something that you enjoy wearing outside of work. What do you think of these?"
She threw several tops and bottoms on Julian's bed. The items she had picked out were on the dressier end -- made of fine-weave, shiny fabric and colored deep jewel tones. Julian inferred from those choices that she was leaning toward the theory that this was a date. Julian picked the shirt and pants from the options that he felt were the most flattering. "How are these?" he asked, holding them in front of his body.
Jadzia nodded approvingly. "Not bad. Purple is definitely your color."
Julian nodded, glad that decision at least was out of the way. Now, he just had to hope he wouldn't make a fool of himself.
To Julian's disappointment, dinner was much like their lunches. Garak talked about art and commented pleasantly about the offerings of the Andorian place, and nothing more. The only difference, really, was that Julian was so nervous anticipating that this dinner might be the beginning of something new, that half of his brain seemed to have shorted out entirely. More than once, Julian had to ask Garak to repeat a question or remark because he was distracted by the way there was a gleam of genuine delight in Garak's eyes, a cheerful hum in his voice, and Julian's mind latched onto that and wouldn't let it go.
"Is everything all right, Doctor? You seem a bit distracted."
"Ah, sorry." It was hard to explain to Garak that it was Garak's rapt attention on him that was so distracting. "What did you say?"
"I said, I liked the main character, but I felt it was a shame she spent her life chasing after a man -- a traitorous dissident, even. A woman of her talents could have accomplished much more in her lifetime than she did."
"I suppose. That's one way of thinking about it."
Garak blinked at Julian in silence, then returned to eating his food.
Julian felt a pang of guilt. He knew his conversation wasn't at its most interesting, but being aware of that fact was making the problem worse. He just wanted... He just wished Garak would put him out of his misery and actually make a move. Or do literally anything that indicated that this wasn't platonic.
Maybe Julian had misunderstood all this time.
They finished their food and stayed a few minutes after their plates had been cleared. But their conversation eventually dried up and Garak ended up calling it.
"Well," he said. "Shall we?"
"Of course."
They stood.
"Well, Doctor," Garak said, taking Julian's hand in both of his own, like a handshake with a second hand on top. Very intimate and sensual and yet frustratingly platonic. "What an enjoyable evening. Thank you." He patted Julian's hand gently and Julian felt his heart beating, wishing that they could just stay like that indefinitely. What reason was there that they should stop holding hands, that they should go their separate ways? He could bask in Garak's warmly affectionate gaze forever.
But Garak broke away, retracting his hands. "Well then, Doctor, I shall see you tomorrow," he said.
"Yes. Tomorrow." Julian tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
"No kiss, no invitation back to his quarters. Not even in a roundabout sort of way."
"Huh."
"I was so sure that the dinner was going to lead to something."
"D'you think maybe he was waiting for you to make a move?" Miles suggested.
"What? Me?" Julian asked incredulously. But after thinking about it for a moment, it made sense. Maybe the very act of asking Julian to dinner was meant to be Garak's nudging of the relationship forward and Julian was responsible for the next nudge. Julian groaned and rested his head heavily in his hands. "Do you think he hates me?"
"I don't think he hates you, Julian."
But then again, maybe the lunches and the dinners weren't nudging toward anything at all, other than passing time pleasantly with a friend. "I feel like it would be easier for me to make a move if I had an inkling what was going on."
"Why don't you, you know... ask him?"
"Ask him."
"You know, like, 'Is this a romantic thing?'"
Julian almost laughed. "Ah, yes, why didn't I think about that earlier? Just ask him!" He sighed. "I already tried that."
"Oh." Miles seemed unprepared for that reply. "What did he say?"
It had been a couple of weeks before the dinner invitation. Despite Julian's sarcasm, it had taken him a while to work up the courage to broach the topic with Garak at all.
"Garak, what is this?" he had asked bluntly during lunch one day.
Garak squinted at Julian's plate. "I believe it is racht." He glanced up in concern. "Don't tell me they got your order wrong?"
"No," Julian said, putting down his fork and gesturing at the general space between him and Garak with his hand. "I mean this -- this lunch thing, this thing we do." He took a deep breath to gather the courage to say what he needed to say in the most direct manner possible. But as he looked into Garak's eyes, those bright, curious eyes looking at him expectantly, he was suddenly convinced that he had imagined the whole thing, and he realized how foolish he was for seeing more than what was actually there. "I mean, we are friends -- good friends, I would say. But I... well, sometimes I get the feeling there's something more going on. Is this -- this isn't romantic, is it? Sorry for asking, but it's just something that's been on my mind."
Garak's eyes widened in polite surprise and he wiped his mouth with a napkin before replying. "Ah, I see. Well, Doctor, there's no need to worry. I assure you, there's nothing more here than what you think is going on."
"What? He said that?" Miles asked.
"Yes. And then he started discussing the quality of his food!"
Miles's brow furrowed. "Huh. Not much of an answer, is it?"
"Yes, exactly." A confusing, non-specific answer that if anything, left defining the relationship up to Julian. "He volleyed the question back at me like a -- tennis ball." And now Julian felt too stupid to bring up the topic a second time, at least not so soon after the first time he had brought it up.
Julian had to be missing something, some crucial bit of context, some subtlety in Cardassian language or culture. But Miles probably wasn't the best person to ask about that.
"... And he's of course referred to our lunch dates as lunch dates, but I don't think they're romantic. But maybe I'm wrong about that? I wonder what word Garak is using when he says that. Does it have both romantic and non-romantic uses? I wouldn't have thought that lunch is a particularly date-like activity, but maybe Cardassians disagree. You're fluent in Kardasi -- do you think I might be missing something?"
Odo rolled his eyes. "Doctor, mating rituals are really not my specialty... But I get the feeling that whatever language Garak was speaking in, he would purposely choose words with ambiguous meaning. It's not because he's Cardassian; it is because he is Garak."
"So you're saying that the word Garak is using that gets translated as 'lunch date' has both romantic and non-romantic meaning," Julian ventured.
"Yes."
Julian sighed. "And you're saying that, what, Garak wouldn't choose words unless they were ambiguous? That's just how he is?"
"I'm sure you more than anyone are aware that Garak is not a very straightforward person."
"Yes, I just thought that would apply more to his line of work than to his social life." A thought suddenly dawned on Julian. "Unless... the lunch dates are part of his espionage."
Odo sighed. "Doctor, can I please get back to work now?"
Julian straightened and got to his feet. "Ah, yes. Sorry, Constable."
As Julian walked back to the infirmary, he mulled over the fact that he had something worth considering here in one sense, which was that Garak's whole presence on the station was a cover of sorts for his actual line of work: a false, adopted life. And his relationship with Julian, whatever its nature, was also part of that artificial life. It was a dispiriting thought.
Julian walked into the infirmary and pulled up the notes he had made on his latest research project, but his attention was distracted by his brain's attempt to unravel Garak and the meaning of their dates.
Of course, Julian's interest in Garak had from the start always been genuine. And it wasn't impossible that there was something genuine on Garak's side, underneath all the artifice. After all, there had to be a reason he had chosen Julian out of all the people on the station to befriend. But there was still the very real possibility that all of this was just a part that Garak was playing. That might explain why Garak always seemed so... ambivalent about any possible developments in their relationship.
Julian rested his chin on his hands, glum. Was Garak really happy with leaving the situation like that -- a kind of romantic relationship he liked to play at but didn't want to actually become real?
Was Julian?
Julian made a casual invitation to Garak at lunch.
"Garak, would you like to have dinner with me again?"
Garak looked intrigued but cautious. "Perhaps. Where were you thinking?"
"My quarters."
"Ah." Garak was silent for a moment. "My schedule for the next few weeks is quite packed. I'm not sure if I'll have the time."
Don't be discouraged, don't be discouraged, Julian thought to himself. The aim wasn't to go on a date with Garak -- or even a not-date. It was to get some answers from him. "It's just... I need to practice cooking. There's a senior officer dinner coming up and I want to impress the commander with some old-fashioned home cooking. If you have time, I would really appreciate you trying it out."
"And you can't get anyone else to help you?"
"Well, there were, but uh, let's just say my earlier attempts did not go so well. It'll be a while before I get any of them to try again." Julian sure hoped Garak appreciated the amount of flagrant fabrication he was engaging in. "I'm currently cycling through all the friends I have."
"You certainly make this invitation sound very enticing, Doctor..."
"Please, Garak. I really need someone to help me with this." Julian hoped outright begging would do the trick.
"Very well, I shall see if I have some time this week."
Julian smiled. Perfect.
Julian shoved a bunch of used measuring cups and dishware into the replicator and pressed a panel to recycle them. At that moment, the computer alerted him that the timer he had set elapsed, and so Julian went to his newly-acquired oven and took out the casserole, amused. This was quite a lot of effort for what was after all just a ruse. Well, if he was going to cook dinner for Garak, he might as well put forward an earnest effort to impress.
Julian had just set the casserole on the table when the door chimed. "Come in!" he called, and the doors slid open to reveal Garak holding a bottle of wine.
"Garak! Great timing. I'm just about done."
Garak set the bottle on the dining table and came over to stand closer to where all the cooking was happening. "Can I help with anything?" he asked politely.
"No, no, that's all right, I'm really almost done. Just take a seat."
Garak didn't sit down but rather wandered around the living room, perusing the small number of things that Julian kept there -- some art, some physical books, a set of framed awards for his research papers that Julian mostly kept as a conversation opener and not really because he had any kind of emotional attachment to them.
Julian set the table with plates, cutlery, and the dishes he had made -- a salad and a vegetable roast. He motioned to Garak and the two of them took a seat at the same time. Julian spooned out generous portions for them both and the two of them dug in.
Garak ate some of the salad, then took a tentative bite of the potatoes and lentils, his eyes widening in surprise. "I must say this is much better than you led me to believe."
"Yes, well, it is always better to set people's expectations low."
Garak continued to eat, pausing to chew thoughtfully. "If you would like some suggestions, though, I believe the commander tends to like his food spicier."
"As do I," Julian admitted. And as Garak seemed relaxed enough, now seemed to be a good time to broach the real reason he had arranged this meeting. "But uh... Garak, frankly, I didn't invite you to dinner to evaluate my cooking."
Garak raised a brow-ridge. "Oh?"
Only Garak could pack so much suggestion into a single syllable -- curiosity and amusement and, yes, playful flirtation.
"I wanted to talk about us," Julian said. He considered how exactly to say this. "I need to know if this is going anywhere. As much as I like the time we spend together -- and I do like it -- I was hoping for something more. And if this is all that you intend it to be then... well, I guess I'd like to know so that I don't put all my hopes in something that's not going to happen."
Garak stopped eating and just said, "Ah."
"Do you understand what I'm saying, Garak?" Julian asked.
"I believe it is clear enough," he said, but then was silent for a while. He resumed eating dinner, not saying anything.
Was Julian supposed to take that as a rejection? But it was obviously not a rejection; that was the maddening part about it. If it were clearly the case that Garak had no romantic interest at all in him, there would be nothing for Julian to ask about; there would be nothing for Garak to deliberate over, nothing to evade. But one thing was clear -- Garak didn't know how to respond. So Julian kept talking, filling the silence.
"You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't get the feeling that there was something more going on here, under the surface. But it's just..." He sighed. "Sometimes I think we're on the same page, and sometimes I think we're carrying on two different conversations. Sometimes I think our conversations energize you in a way that makes me feel so good about myself, and other times, I think you're just, well... humoring me. And sometimes I'm certain you're obviously attracted to me and are just holding back for some reason I don't understand, and sometimes I think I'm out of my mind to think such a thing." Julian stopped his rambling so that he could see if any of it had some kind of effect. Garak was still looking at him expectantly. "And well, I just... can't keep going on like this," he continued. "Tell me, do you actually like me? Is this going anywhere? And please, Garak, just a straight answer, for once."
Garak still did not answer straight away, but at least this time, Julian could tell that he was preparing to speak, carefully choosing the right words.
"I will certainly do my best to be straightforward," he said finally, slowly, "and I hope the effort is itself an indication of my regard for you, Doctor. But you must realize, reality is rarely straightforward enough for simple answers." He swallowed and once again mulled over his words before going on, "As you are no doubt aware, I am not exactly on this station because I wish to be here. But if I must be here, I would... rather have company than to be alone. But it's not exactly fair to become romantically entangled with someone when, ultimately, my one true love remains Cardassia." He said this all in a very calm, composed voice.
Julian took a moment to process Garak's words. It was indeed the most straightforward Garak had ever been, and Julian was both grateful to know that Garak did have romantic feelings, and also disappointed that he was so ambivalent about them. "I have no idea how long you'll be here," Julian said, "and I'm guessing you don't either. But however long it is, regardless of what happens, I would like to try. I wouldn't want you to spend that time alone."
Silence filled the space between them again.
"You don't agree?" Julian pressed.
"Please forgive my difficulty answering. I find this whole situation... difficult."
"Difficult? Why?"
"Well, for one thing, this has all been very unexpected. I wasn't even certain until a few minutes ago that you had any interest in that sort of relationship."
Julian's brow furrowed in confusion. "What? Really? I thought I made my interest quite clear, actually -- in spite of your rather lukewarm responses."
"Well, it is my understanding that Humans and Cardassians practice courtship very differently -- it's hard to know what is intentional flirtation and what is inadvertent."
"And it is my understanding that I have been regularly flirting in both modes, so I would have expected you would pick that up?"
"Yes, well, from my perspective, that looks like a rather indecisive approach to flirting -- lukewarm, one might say."
"Garak! If you want to accuse me of being ambivalent, I should point out that it's been ten minutes since I brought up the topic of dating, and you still haven't given me a clear answer on whether you're interested in a relationship or not."
Garak smiled. No wonder -- this was, after all, the paradigmatic form of Cardassian flirtation. "Well, I admit we do have chemistry, that much is clear," he said, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. "But chemistry alone can't make a relationship. In terms of species, culture, line of work, you must already know that we aren't exactly compatible."
Julian shook his head. "I don't agree," he said bluntly. "I have very little idea of whether we are compatible or not. Yes, I admit we are very different. We're not going to see eye to eye on many things. But I don't think I'd be able to definitively say it won't work out without at least trying it out first."
Garak put down his cutlery and sat still, his eyes closed. He took several slow breaths like that, intentional, calming, meditative. When he was done, he opened his eyes and looked at Julian. He seemed almost sad.
"Well?" Julian prompted. "I don't suppose you have some more objections you'd like me to shoot down?" He had the feeling that there was much more on Garak's mind than he was letting on, many more reservations.
But Garak did not bring them up; instead he just smiled. "You are persistent, aren't you, Doctor?"
"I find that's the only way I get anywhere with you, unless I want to go around in circles forever."
"That was a compliment," Garak assured him. "It's a trait of yours I do admire."
"So?" Julian wasn't sure he dared hope for what it was he was hoping for. "Are you telling me you're willing to give it a try?"
"You realize this is quite a big change," Garak said. "But yes, my dear doctor, I believe I am." He patted his mouth with a napkin. "And right now, I dare say I could go for some dessert."