Garak's smile was always somewhat special. Such a way to convey anything while telling nothing. He smiled at the comers to his modest shop, he smiled at the acquaintances strolling along the promenade, he smiled at Odo and the security officers, he smiled at major Kira and commander Sisko. And yet — he smiled at Julian.
A plenty of hours spent in replimat at lunch in boundless conversations about everything, starting with literature and ending with Julian's attempts to get what was hiding underneath the guise of unremarkable tailor that was worn by Garak so naturally that it had almost stuck to him, couldn't but finally give some results. It seemed that the long range of cardassian's smiles has widened by another one, considered by the doctor an expression of sincere pleasure of his company. But was it truly sincere? One couldn't be sure in anything with Garak — he lied with a smile, he was telling the truth with a smile and, very likely, was once used to kill with a smile too.
The fact that the cardassian has a murky past wasn't doubtful to Julian, but it didn't repulse him. Probably because he had something to hide himself, though the secret of his descent could barely compare with what he was guessing took place in Garak's life before his moving to the station. Somewhere deep inside, while trying to figure his very well-educated and perfectly polite friend out, the doctor felt that mere curiosity and slight excitement were growing into the need. He felt upset if they didn't manage to lunch together — probably keener than if O'Brien cancelled their appointment to holorooms because of an urgent call. He was vexed when his own employment in the infirmary prevented him from seeing the cardassian for several days in a row, or when the other was too busy with his work to distract for a chatter. In the end Julian just had to admit that he was missing Garak.
Garak seemed to be aware of it too — from the willingness wich with the doctor was shifting his plans if he had ones, though he tried to cover it with deliberate negligence and vivid interest to the cardassian culture, from his eyes, dim a moment ago and shining on meeting, from his genuine smile while he was returning a quip to the owner over a cup of tea. And Garak smiled too. He was stealing up to him, putting his hands silently to Julian's shoulders, causing him an unfailing shudder. This flutter gave the cardassian a particular pleasure.
"You're so easy to frighten, my dear doctor."
In such moments his smile was almost predatory, and once again Julian felt himself rather a trapped innocent youth than James Bond he liked to fancy himself. Garak taught him not to not take things unambiguously, regarding any matter from all the feasible points of view. He broadened his mind, absorbing all the attention he was given and sharing crumbs of knowledge flavoured with invented stories made rather of inevitable lies than of the truth in return. As a tailor he was suggesting the doctor to get a dress that would suit him much better than the usual Starfleet uniform made, but the other refused all the time for an unclear reason while lowering his eyes uneasily. And yet Garak smiled.
And one day Julian realised that this smile had pierced him like an aimed phaser's shot — straight in the heart.