just-a-cato asked:
writertobridge-deactivated20230 answered:
I WILL TOTALLY DO THIS
and then share that amazing fan art you sent me because omg yes.Some background for Julian really quick:
Julian and Miles met working on the Enterprise. Julian was not the CMO on the Enterprise, Crusher was, but Julian was waiting for a good opportunity that he was actually interested in. When Miles decided to work on DS9, Julian asked and was given the CMO position on the station because he would actually be needed there. They’ve been friends for years and Keiko was delighted to hear that Julian was going to be with them on the station. (Julian was still not present for Molly’s birth, but he’s fully aware that Worf did an amazing job and will delight in reminding him of that when Keiko becomes pregnant a second time). No one knows about his genetic engineering. He has not been contacted to work for Second 31. He’s not married, but he does have a daughter that about to enter college. They talk frequently. She has no interest in joining Starfleet and Julian understands. He and the mother are not in touch for various, non-fatal reasons.
Weakness
Teal. That’s the science color. Scientists could be weak.
But he looked old. Not in a bad way. No, no, definitely not. The human was tan and thin and handsome, with his defined cheekbones and distracted yet thin-pressed smile. The only thing that truly gave away his age was the wrinkles on his face and the graying strands of hair in his beard. Garak didn’t know enough about human age to know exactly how old that science man was, but he was old enough to have experience in the universe. He couldn’t be used.
Garak dropped his gaze from the man that lingered at the door of the replimat and thumbed through the text on his PADD. It was a Cardassian novel: The Never Ending Sacrifice. He hadn’t read it yet, but his exile opened up the possibility. He enjoyed it, adored it, but for the moment, he couldn’t focus on the words. There was too much change here, too many new faces, too many decisions.
He needed to get into his father’s good graces again. Prying information from a Starfleet officer would offer that possibility to him, but it had to be the right one. There must be younger ones, less experienced ones. The station wasn’t exactly a strategic location, so there was bound to be some inexperienced officers roaming around. Garak just needed one to–
“Excuse me.”
The gentle, accented voice caught him off guard, but Garak did his best not to show it. Garak’s gaze flicked up. The science man was there, teal clad and still smiling one of those small, albeit pleasant, smiles.
“May I join you?”
He didn’t bring food. The science man had no reason to sit with him. Curiosity piqued, Garak nodded. The man’s smile grew as he sat.
“My name’s Julian Bashir,” he said, “I’m the station’s Chief Medical Officer now.”
A doctor. Well, that hardly changed things. Though Garak wondered if Starfleet doctors were anything like Cardassian doctors, or if the man had talents besides medicine that he could use to harm, if he so wished.
“You’re… Garak, right?” Julian asked.
“That’s correct,” Garak said, his tone polite and smile pressed if only to seem pleased with the doctor’s knowledge. It wasn’t that hard to figure out, though. He was the only Cardassian on the station and he knew the wild rumors that fluttered around. He started most of them. The fearful, gossip-loving Bajorans took care of the rest, though those were far less creative.
“Just Garak?” Julian asked.
“Just Garak,” Garak said, “I’m just plain, simple Garak.”
“Ah,” Julian said, “Well, I’m afraid your reputation is anything but plain and simple.”
“Why, whatever do you mean?”
Garak smiled softly. It’s a sentence and smile he’d paired together before, when prying Bajorans made similar statements. Most people – well, most sane people – muttered apologizes, excused themselves, and never graced Garak with their presence again. But the doctor, this Doctor Bashir, seemed unmoved by his response. In fact, the smile that pressed against the doctor’s face mirrored interest.
“You’re the only Cardassian on this station,” Julian answered, “That alone is going to cause stories to pass around. Surely you’ve heard some of them.”
“Only whispers,” Garak said, “Though I do suppose that is why some Bajorans on this station are rather skittish when I enter a room.”
“Completely unintentional on you’re part, I’m sure.”
“Of course.”
“I guess that means you don’t get much company either.”
“Oh, but I do find wonderful ways to pass the time.”
“Really?” Julian asked. The doctor leaned forward and placed his chin on the palm of his propped up right hand. That smile, once pleasant, picked up into something more wild, flirtatious, dangerous. “And what exactly do you do to pass the time?”
Garak’s smile faded. He hadn’t noticed. He was too busy attempt to dissect the intent through the doctor’s lit up eyes and toying smile. Was he playing with him? Was he trying to fish out information about Cardassia? Was he trying to court him?
“I read, mostly,” Garak answered. It was dull, flat response, but he was grateful it didn’t reflect the rampaging thoughts that soared in volume through his mind.
“Is it all Cardassian literature or do you read literature from other cultures?” Julian asked.
He’d looked at the PADD sometime during their conversation without taking his gaze off Garak, or, somehow, he managed to look at the words on the screen before he even interrupted Garak’s mental wanderings. Either way, the doctor was far more gifted than he let on. Were all humans so gifted?
“I’ve limited myself to Cardassian literature for the time being,” Garak answered.
“I haven’t had the pleasure of reading anything from Cardassia. What are you reading now?”
“The Never Ending Sacrifice.”
“Sounds dark.”
“It’s a repetitive epic which chronicles seven generations of a single family and their work for the state,” Garak said.
“Are you enjoying it?”
“Certainly. It is one of the greatest Cardassian novels ever written.”
“Is that a fact?” Julian asked. “Well, I’ll try to get my hands on a copy. Then maybe we can sit down and discuss our personal feelings on the material.”
“Sisko to Doctor Bashir.”
The interjecting voice came from the doctor’s badge, which sat poised above his human heart.
“Go ahead,” Julian said. His eyes didn’t linger from Garak’s face.
“I’d like to see you in ops,” Sisko said, “I need your opinion on something.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Julian stood but his gaze remained locked on Garak’s face.
“Why don’t I come by your shop at around nineteen-hundred hours and we can discuss our interests in more detail,” Julian said, “You seem like a delightful young man and I’d hate for you to feel lonely while you’re on this station. I would be happy to keep you company, if you’re interested.”
Delightful young man. That would’ve been laughable from someone else, but there was a teasing tone there that Garak couldn’t shake. No, not teasing. Affectionate. It was something so alien to Garak that he wasn’t sure how to respond to it. He opened his mouth, paused, and then closed it again. He opted for a nod instead.
“Good,” Julian answered, “I’ll see you after my shift, then. Have a good afternoon, Garak.”
And then the doctor left the replimat. Garak watched him leave as a curious energy surged through him. Doctor Bashir was nothing like Cardassians. He wasn’t anything like the Bajorans either. He was an aged sun with a puzzling passion and a heart filled with kindness and tease. There was nothing on those features to indicate deceit, even if Garak had assumed so in the past. He was truly kind and interested in Garak simply because of his good heart. There weren’t very many people like that. A flustered yet delightful energy bound through him and a smile pulled back onto his lips.
Maybe Doctor Bashir could be useful after all.
deepintheshadyglen