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“Garak, I have a favor to ask you.”
Garak quirked an eye ridge. The “favors” he had been asked of in his life ranged from watering his neighbor’s plants while they were away from home, to assassinating various political or diplomatic figures and either covering it up or framing another enemy--whichever suited the situation better. Knowing Dr. Bashir, the favor he had in mind was likely more along the lines of “watering plants” but it could also be “playact an infernal holosuite battle while Miles is on Bajor” or “become a test subject to practice treatments on Cardassian physiology.”
He gently sat down his fork and dabbed his napkin against his lips. “What can I do for you, Doctor?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking about various ways in which I might improve upon my manual dexterity. I’m actually writing a paper about this for Starfleet Medical--we can rely so much on technology and various instruments now, and there are always more and more innovations to automate the practice of medicine. However, I think it is imperative that as physicians, and surgeons, we maintain all of our skills, including the most basic and low-tech. Do you know, I had some classmates at the Academy who had never learnt how to suture? I mean, imagine if there were a power failure, or a shuttle accident, what would they do? What if--”
At this point, Gararak realized that Dr. Bashir had reached the point in a conversation where he would ramble on interminably unless guided back to the conversational path. “Doctor,” he interrupted, “I do believe you were intimating that you had some sort of favor to ask of me?”
“Oh! Yes, yes, sorry Garak, you know how I can go on sometimes! Anyway, in the hopes of improving my manual dexterity, as well as to promote some relaxation and stress relief, I thought to pick up a new hobby--sewing, or knitting, or embroidery or something of the sort. I thought...well I wondered...I wanted to ask your advice, and perhaps if you might help me...get started?”
An image sprang to Garak’s mind, entirely unbidden, certainly unwelcome, of himself and Dr. Bashir seated close together, a ball of yarn between them as Garak laid his cool hand over the doctor’s warm one, demonstrating to him the correct method for casting on, arranging the yarn in his grip - just so - listening to the steady, even breathing of the doctor as he placed all his considerable focus on the task at hand. Yes.
“Yes.” he said, aloud. “I would be happy to assist you in this new endeavor. If I may be so bold as to make a suggestion for your new...hobby?”
“Yes, please do Garak! What do you think would be best? I thought perhaps sewing, since it is similar to suturing, and would be practical to make my own clothes..although there is something about knitting that draws me in, it seems such a cosy hobby…”
“You’re in luck then Doctor, because I was about to suggest you start with knitting. It is a different motion than what you may be used to, and can exercise a different part of the hand and mind. It is quite a...satisfying pastime.”
The doctor beamed at him. “Excellent! Oh, thank you Garak! When can we get started? WHat do we need? Will replicated materials be alright, or should we source some from Bajor? Do you know where to get things?” He was practically bouncing in his seat, and Garak had to quickly reach out and move his cup of red leaf tea before it was swept to the ground by the exuberant gesticulations of his companion.
“Leave all of that to me, my dear Doctor. Shall we say, your quarters? Tomorrow evening, 2100 hours?”
Another wide smile. “Sounds perfect.”
********
At 2045 hours the next evening, Julian was seriously reconsidering his use of the word “perfect” to describe Garak coming to his quarters. Garak had never visited him in his quarters before. Well, unless he counted that time Garak had broken in in the middle of the night to go on a secret mission to Bajor...but never for a social call. The two spent a good deal of time together, however having his friend in his quarters, looking at his things, sitting on his couch, felt more...intimate somehow.
Julian hurried around his quarters one more time, making sure things were just right. Garak was very fastidious, after all. He lowered the lights by fifteen...no, sixteen percent, and raised the temperature by 6.4 degrees. He carefully stacked the PADDs on his desk, instead of leaving them strewn about. He made sure Kukalaka was safely stowed away in his closet (no need to try and explain that to Garak…). He was ready. He had everything organized, everything settled. At 2058 he replicated a pot of red leaf tea and placed it alongside two cups on the low table in front of the couch.
At 2059 Garak was standing outside the door to the doctor’s quarters, taking even, careful breaths. There was no need for him to feel nervous, or uneasy. He was spending time with a friend, a friend with whom he had spent a good deal of time already. What could he have to feel nervous about? Perhaps it was the more private, intimate setting of Julian’s quarters that was making him feel this way. Recalling to him the last time he and the doctor had been in one of their quarters together. That time when the wire had rendered him his most vulnerable, exposed. He did not like to feel exposed, but at the same time, sometimes when Julian’s soft brown eyes were looking into his, laughing over some smaller point of human literature or asking question after question about Cardassian culture, Garak felt...seen. Julian was the first person, perhaps only person, who saw Garak for who he was, who had seen him at his absolute lowest without any of his usual tightly-held self control and artifice. And...he had come back. He still wanted to have lunch with him, now had invited him into his quarters. Julian had seen him, and did not flee. Whether that spoke more positively or negatively about the good doctor’s judgement of character, Garak did not like to dwell on for too long. He already knew the answer.
*******
At precisely 2100 hours, the door to Julian’s quarters chimed. “Come in!” he called out, hoping that the slight tremor he felt in his voice was not audible. The door swished open to reveal Garak on the other side, smiling slightly and holding a bag over his shoulder.
“Come in please Garak, make yourself comfortable! I’ve replicated some tea, if you’d like..?”
“Why thank you Doctor, you are always so thoughtful” replied Garak, casting his customary look around any room he entered before setting down his bag and sitting on the couch.
Julian waffled a bit between sitting on the chair, or on the couch next to Garak. When Garak looked up at him and said “Shall I pour then, Doctor?” he realized he had been standing there for far too long, and nearly leapt to take the cushion next to the tailor--just not too close, lest he make the other man feel uncomfortable, or cornered.
“Please, allow me” he replied, taking the teapot and carefully pouring two cups of the steaming tea. “Are you comfortable? Is the light level alright? The temperature? I can raise it a bit more if you’re chilly. Computer--”
Garak cut him off with a raise of his hand. “That won’t be necessary, thank you Doctor. Your attention to my comfort is most appreciated, but we also can’t have you boiling yourself, now can we?”
“Well...I invited you, so I wanted you to feel welcome. Especially since you haven’t been to my quarters before. Well, not formally anyway…” he blushed, remembering the feeling of Garak’s presence in his bedroom.
“Indeed,” replied Garak, his amusement showing as he inclined his head toward the doctor. “Perhaps it is better to have waited for a formal invitation, instead of letting myself in again.”
Was he capable of getting through a conversation with the Cardassian without blushing? Looking at his track record, that did not appear to be the case. Luckily, he could take a sip of tea to hide his face, and soon they would be knitting, which would serve as a great distraction.
Speaking of which...Julian eyed the bag that Garak had brought with him. “Have you got everything we need in there?” he asked.
“Indeed I do, Doctor” replied Garak, setting down his cup of tea and pulling the bag to sit on the couch between them. He opened it and began to remove items--two knitting needles and a ball of yarn, and then what looked like a very complicated half-knitted project.
“What’s that?” asked Julian curiously, looking to Garak as he reached out toward the uncompleted...something.
“Not much, at the moment,” responded the tailor. “However, when completed, it should be a sweater.”
Julian marveled as Garak held up the project. He could see where the neck and shoulders were starting to form. “It’s amazing!” he exclaimed. “Do you think I can make something like this?”
Garak chuckled warmly. “If you practice, you certainly will be able to. However, for an initial foray into the art of knitting, I thought a scarf might be more appropriate.”
“You’re probably right” laughed Julian ruefully. “I got excited because it is so beautiful. Though I suppose it is always best to start with the fundamentals and move on from there!”
“Indeed” replied Garak, setting the sweater aside and proffering the needles and yarn to Julian. “In the spirit of fundamentals, are you ready to learn how to cast on?”
The next hour seemed to fly by, yet Julian felt he had made woefully little progress. It had taken him several tries to successfully cast on the number of stitches he wanted (if he was being honest, the last two tries weren’t really so necessary, but every time Garak would correct him, he would reposition his hand, or adjust the yarn. These fleeting touches filled Julian with warmth, so, if he pretended not to be picking up on the skills very quickly, he had an excellent reason for doing so). Garak had then helped him through the basics of the knit and purl stitches, and set him up with a simple pattern. Julian had gotten the hang of it now (unfortunately, no further corrections were needed) although he did not knit at the same speed as the other man, who had picked up his own project and knit steadily along.
Perhaps some of Julian’s lack of progress was due to the fact that he kept looking at Garak, watching the other man’s hands deftly maneuver the needles, throw the yarn, and move the stitches along. He told himself that he was just watching so that he could learn from Garak’s technique, and that’s what he also told Garak when he was caught staring. That was true, but perhaps not so true as the fact that Garak’s hands and the delicate motions they were making were mesmerizing. They were art. Julian had at least some idea of what those hands had likely done in their lifetime, what weapons they had wielded. But they also wielded knitting needles with such gentleness and finesse...and he could never find it in himself to fear Garak.
The two continued in a companionable silence, sometimes punctuated by a check-in from Garak on Julian’s progress, or a comment about some recent reading. Mostly though, they just sat together and knitted. It felt almost...domestic. Julian could imagine doing this every night, and then perhaps retiring to bed, brushing their teeth together, getting changed, and climbing under the covers together. I really need to end this line of thought. It’s too dangerous. I can’t make myself hope for something that will never be, that he could never want with me.
With that thought, Julian forced himself out of his reverie. “Um, Garak,” he said, now feeling awkward about breaking the silence, but needing to do so. “I have an early shift in the infirmary tomorrow, so I probably ought to get to bed soon…”
“Of course!” Garak immediately began packing away his knitting. “My dear Doctor, far be it from me to impose upon your rest. Where would your patients find themselves if you come to the infirmary tomorrow exhausted?”
Julian smiled. “Thank you for teaching me tonight Garak, I love it. It’s exactly what I had hoped for.”
Garak’s face softened. “I am glad to be able to do my part for your manual dexterity. Once you master these basic stitches, you will be able to move onto more complex projects in no time.”
“Thank you, really.” He reached his hand up, as if to touch the other man’s arm, but let it drop before he actually made contact. “Perhaps we can knit together again sometime?”
“It would be my pleasure,” responded Garak. “For now though Doctor, I shall bid you good night.” He seemed as though he might say more, but instead inclined his head towards Julian and left his quarters.
“Good night, Garak” whispered Julian, alone in the room.
******
“What on Earth do you call that?” asked Miles, a touch too loudly, as usual.
“It’s...it’s a scarf” replied Julian, holding up the half-knitted scarf for his friend to better see. “Can’t you tell? Maybe once I’ve made some more progress it will be recognizable…” he trailed off.
“Of course you can tell it’s a scarf!” exclaimed Jadzia as she set her mug down on the table. “It’s lovely, and looks so warm.”
“Thank you!” Julian brightened. I do hope it will be warm! Garak is teaching me how to knit, and I wanted to surprise him by making him something to keep warm. You know how chilly the station can get, and for Cardassian physiology--”
“Yeah, yeah” interrupted Miles. If he didn’t shut Julian up now, he would go on about Cardassian physiology for the rest of the night, and Miles was decidedly uninterested in hearing about Cardassian heat tolerance. “Just move it off the table before I spill this pint all over it.”
Blushing, Julian picked up the scarf, carefully wound up the extra yarn, and tucked the whole thing back into his bag that he had taken to carrying around with him. “Sorry Chief, I was just a bit early so I was working on it until you got here. Anyway, how was Ops today?”
That prompt was enough to let Miles head off on a story about some ruptured conduit or another, which led into a tangent by Jadzia involving several stories of her previous hosts. Overall it was a very nice evening spent chatting with a couple friends. Good to have friends.
“Damn, is that the time?” asked Miles, suddenly realizing how long they had been sitting there. “I’ve got to get home so I can read Molly her bedtime story!” He drained his drink and stood up. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you, Chief” said Julian, as Dax waved. “Well, I suppose we should--”
“I’m game for one more drink if you are” replied Dax.
“I-what? Really?” Julian was shocked. After all his propositions, Jadzia finally wanted to have a drink with him? Why wasn’t he more excited about this prospect?
“Why not? We’re friends, right?” Jadzia asked as she signaled one of Quark’s Ferengi staff that they would like another round.
“Well, yes, yes we are” said Julian, smiling to himself at that realization, that they were friends. Finally he could relax around her without harboring that uncomfortable crush. Now if only he could get over this other uncomfortable crush. Was it really just a crush though, he mused as his eyes drifted automatically to Garak’s shop, where he could just make out a silhouette through the doors, probably closing up for the evening.
Their drinks arrived, and Jadzia pushed Julian’s toward him. “Now, spill” she said, setting her face on her hands as though settling in for one of Molly’s bedtime stories.
“Spill what?” asked Julian, confused and suddenly jerked out of his reverie.
“Oh, I don’t know” said Jadzia, rolling her eyes. “Maybe about how you are making a special gift for a certain someone? A someone who you already spent a lot of time with, and now are seeing even more? A someone whose shop you are currently staring at, and I suspect you specifically chose this table because it has a view of? Something along those lines…”
“I-wha-you-why-” sputtered Julian, certain he had never blushed so hard in his entire life. “I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about!”
“Mhmm, right. Why aren’t you making me a scarf then?”
“Well-I-Cardassian physiology isn’t well adapted to the station’s climate! And he went through all the trouble to teach me, so I thought the least I could do was…”
“You know, Julian, the more excuses you make, the less convincing you are” Jadzia laughed. “Admit it. You’re into Garak.”
Julian took a long sip of his drink, partly because this conversation was getting a bit uncomfortable, and partly because he really wasn’t sure what to say next. He opted for the truth.
“Even if I am, it doesn’t do any good to say it. Nothing is ever going to come of it.”
“Oh Julian, you don’t really think that do you?”
“Of course I do!” Julian realized his voice was rising a bit too much, and brought the volume down. “Why in heaven's name would I ever think otherwise? I honestly don’t even know why he spends so much time with me, he doesn’t even try to get Federation secrets from me, we just talk about books.”
“Um. Yes. Right, okay Julian. I know you’ve had this notion that Garak is a disgraced spy, and was maybe trying to get some information from you, or use you. And who knows, he probably is a disgraced spy. But I really don’t think it’s information he’s looking for from you.”
“What do you mean?” asked Julian, confused. Why else would the Cardassian have befriended him except as some kind of long con?
“It is very obvious to me, and probably anyone else who isn’t you, that Garak is interested in you! He’s not out here trying to make other friends, but ever since the first time you two met, he’s always come back to you. When he was having those medical issues, you were the only one he would let near him. I’ve seen the way he looks at you over lunch. And trust me, it is not the way a spy looks at a potential informant.”
“How do you know?” asked Julian, faintly. His mind was spinning so fast. Not only had Jadzia discovered his secret crush (which he now had reason to fear wasn’t quite so secret as he thought), but she was saying Garak might actually return his feelings?
“Seven lifetimes of experience” Jadzia replied, gently covering Julian’s hand with her own. “Trust me. I’ve been through enough love drama to fit at least twice as many lifetimes as I’ve actually lived. And I know that keeping your feelings inside will only cause you to suffer.”
“But... what should I do?”
Jadzia shrugged. “Tell him how you feel.”
Julian scoffed. As if it was just that easy!
“I’m serious, Julian. I know it’s terrifying to put your heart out there. But trust me, it will help you. Either he feels the same way and you two can explore what you might have together, or he doesn’t, and you can move on and adjust your relationship as needed. This pining though is really not healthy. I just want you to be happy.”
“I-I don’t know what to say” said Julian, looking down into his glass. “I don’t know that I can, but I promise I’ll think about it. Thank you”
Jadzia smiled at him. “What are friends for? Why don’t you think about it while you knit? I’ve heard it’s a very meditative hobby.”
******
Julian did think about it while he knitted. He went round and round in his head, imagining countless scenarios--where he declared his affections for Garak and they were happily returned, where he declared his affections for Garak and they were coldly spurned, where he never told Garak how he felt and instead died alone in a shuttle crash while traveling with another doctor who had never learnt to suture. He wasn’t quite sure which possible scenario made him feel the most sick to consider. He thought so much as he knitted, that his scarf accidentally became somewhat longer than he had originally intended. However, he reasoned, if the scarf was very long, Garak could wrap it a few times around his neck and it would keep him even warmer.
After he finished binding off (which he had to clumsily teach himself so that Garak wouldn’t see the scarf before he was ready to give it to him), Julian decided he should be bold. He was giving the Cardassian a scarf, he may as well use it as the opportunity to tell him what he had been feeling. And worst case scenario...well, best not to dwell on the worst case scenario because then he would lose his nerve.
He decided to bring the scarf to Garak’s shop one evening right as he was closing. The shop was less intimate than one of their quarters, and easily escaped in case things didn’t go well, but doing it at close when no one else would be around would be beneficial in case things did go well.
With these cheerful thoughts in mind, Julian shifted the bag containing the scarf from one hand to another as he approached Garak’s shop. He spotted Jadzia sitting at the bar in Quark’s--she looked up as he passed, noted the bag in his hand and determined/ill expression on his face, and gave him a big smile and thumbs up. “Let me know how it goes!” she called out.
“Yes, yes” said Julian hurriedly, making shushing motions at her. It certainly wouldn’t do for anyone else to know what he was about to do. Best to keep the abject humiliation as private as possible. She smiled again and mimed zipping her lips before turning back to Morn to continue their conversation.
******
Steeling himself, Julian forced himself to raise his hand and press the bell on the door of Garak’s Clothiers. How was he standing? Was he sweating? How did he normally hold his face?
From inside the shop he heard Garak’s voice: “I’m afraid we’re closed for the evening, perhaps if you’d like to return tomorr-” he cut off when he saw who was standing at his door. “My dear Doctor, do come in!” he said, pressing the door release and motioning Julian inside. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?”
“I have something for you, Garak” Julian managed to get out, holding up the bag for the other man to see.
“For me? Why, how very generous of you Doctor, how kind to think to give me a gift” As he spoke, Garak reached into the bag and withdrew the scarf. “Ah! Is this the scarf that you made?”
“Yes,” Julian blushed. “It’s not very good, it’s a bit lumpy in places, and it’s infernally long…”
“My dear Doctor,” interrupted Garak. “I love it. Thank you.” He looped it a few times around his neck. “This will be most suitable for the frozen tundra which is this station.” He smiled. “It is serendipitous that you should come by this evening, as I also have a gift for you.”
“For me?” repeated Julian, as Garak disappeared into the back room. He trailed behind the other man, curious.
As he entered the room, Garak turned around with something in his hands. “It’s not wrapped, I’m afraid,” he said as he held out the bundle to Julian.
“Oh, that’s alright Garak, I mean, you didn’t even need to get me--oh!” he gasped as he unfolded it. “The sweater! Oh, Garak, you finished it! It is so beautiful! Oh, I couldn’t possibly--” Julian protested even as he held the garment to his face to feel the softness.
“Of course you could, my dear” responded Garak. “It is a gift. I thought that color would suit you, and it would appear I was correct in that belief.”
“Thank you Garak, I love it. Now we will both be warm” Julian smiled up at the other man, who seemed to be standing very close indeed to him. He reached out a slightly trembly hand to touch the scarf around Garak’s neck, gently brushing some of the scales of his neck ridges. He heard, and felt, the sharp intake of breath at his touch. Emboldened, he did it again, more deliberately this time.
Garak was staring at him, staring through him, his blue eyes piercing, searching. He wasn’t moving away. Something was happening.
Julian stepped slightly closer to Garak. He felt cool hands on his own as Garak gently took the sweater from his hand and placed it carefully on his workbench. “You know, Doctor,” he said. “There are ways...other than knitwear...that two people might warm up.”
“You don’t say,” said Julian, feeling emboldened by Garak’s response. “Garak.”
“Yes, doctor”--was his voice a bit unsteady as Julian once again rested a hand on his neck?
Time to put it all out there--”I would like to kiss you. Tell me if you don’t want that.”
Garak closed his eyes for a breath. When he opened them again, they seemed clearer, more certain. “Julian, if I were to tell you I don’t want this, it would be a lie.” He brought his hand up to Julian’s face and gently stroked his cheek before cupping his face in his palm. “And you know how I hate to lie.”
Julian’s answering smile was cut off by the press of lips against his own (finally, finally). He put his arms around Garak’s neck, reveling in the softness of the scarf, the texture of Garak’s skin, the cool touch of his lips, his hand softly cradling Julian’s face while the other slid round his waist.
Their lips parted, and they rested their foreheads against each others’ breathing tremulous.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that” whispered Julian.
Garak laughed softly. “If it’s since the first time we met, then it was approximately the same amount of time that I have wanted to.”
Julian laughed. “What a pair we make! I suppose...I suppose we have a lot to talk about now?”
Garak raised his hand to his lips and kissed his fingers. “Indeed we do. What would you say to a talk over some tea and knitting?”
Julian smiled and rested his head on the Cardassian’s chest, just because he could. “That sounds perfect.”