A/N: I had a personal crisis of sorts. In an effort to recalibrate myself, I turned to Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. (Nerd drama, cures all!) Thank you, KoraM852, for helping me to get my brain back into some kind of functioning gear. And thank you for the beta-read, always! Thank you, Gameson221b, for being who you are and letting me work my way out of a deep hole. I will get back to Sherlock soon!
Warning: Contains slash sexual content.
Disclaimer: All rights reserved by Paramount Pictures. All story and writing credits for the scripts are owed to their respective creators/writers, "Crossover" circa 1994. And, of course the make-up department, Michael Westmore is a genius-such pretty pictures.
Broken Glass
Episode re-working for Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Season Two "Crossover"
Love is a terrible art, it's a hook in the heart
That can drag you on broken glass
And as you protest the shards in your flesh
The hook tears out your chest until you're just a broken mess
-The Classic Crime, "Broken Mess"
Julian stared at the stars out the window. Bajor was just rising on the horizon, the station's slow rotation marking the passing time of one Bajoran day…
He tugged absently at the heavy collar around his neck. The attached chain confined him to the immediate area. As he pulled on the heavy loop that connected the chain to the collar, he felt pinching barbs stab against his neck… It would choke him if pulled too far.
Venturing, even just to the outer room, would not be possible.
He dropped his hand, his stomach turning, as the doors behind him opened with a well-remembered sound. He turned to see a familiar face—familiar, yet so very different.
"That mouth of yours, my good 'doctor'… such arrogance is going to get you into all kinds of trouble."
In another world, that Cardassian visage would be a welcome comfort. It would offer a coy smile, and light banter to put him at ease. But, here…
Garak poured himself a glass of Kanar, offering nothing to Julian. "Count yourself fortunate that I took you in. One more word from that pretty mouth and the Intendant may have had you permanently silenced." He sat and took a slow drink. He lowered the glass and leveled a look at the Terran. "She doesn't take kindly to being opposed. Especially by those so obviously beneath her."
He reached out and pulled on the chain, dragging Julian forward.
The doctor remained standing, despite the force on the restraint at his neck. He rasped, the barbs piercing his skin.
"Kneel, Terran."
Julian dropped to the floor, his knees hitting hard. He winced. The low pile of the carpet was rough on his legs.
"My, but you do look appetizing. As much as I hate being second to her, I should be grateful. She does allow me my… indulgences."
The doctor swallowed, a gray hand tracing down his cheek, the fingertips coursing along the lines of his neck.
"Very few… have the privilege of a private audience…"
The hand slid inside the collar of his Federation uniform. His eyes met the pale blue irises opposite. His eyes widened.
A ridged brow lifted in curiosity. "Even less enjoy it."
The Cardassian pried the closure open, the light-weight shirt beneath exposing the contours of the doctor's frame. "Mmm. That must be restricting…"
"It's not, actually—"
"Terrans have no need to speak, remember? Or is your memory as superficial as your witless comments?"
The Cardassian slipped the jumpsuit from the doctor's shoulders, the rouching at his waist in no way inhibiting its progress. Julian shifted his arms to stop the material from falling past his narrow hips. A single reproving look from the older man made him drop his arms, and he let the jumpsuit settle around his knees on the floor.
A slow smirk lifted the corner of the Cardassian's mouth. He stood, removing the armor covering his torso. The plain black shirt beneath belied the ruthless antagonism the Gul was rumored to exude.
"Tell me, 'doctor,' what do you know of Cardassian anatomy?"
"Do you want me to tell you?"
"Must I repeat myself? Show me."
Julian hesitated, his eyes wandering the body before him. The hips, the transverse ribs… the pectoral arches joining at the breastbone… every depression and rise of scale pattern and bony ridge hidden beneath the thin black material…
"I can't." Julian edged away, his hands trembling, moments from touching.
"Ah, a lie. Tell me… do I have another self in your world, like the Intendant has your Major Kira? One that has your rapt attention, I presume? Then I shall steal you away." Garak's voice dropped, low and molten. "And break you."
"Julian!"
The urgent whisper woke him. He stirred just enough to cover his bare body with the woven blanket at the far side of the bed. He was so tired.
"Julian," Kira's voice called again. He worked his eyes open and took in her worried glance. "What'd he do to you?"
She likely saw the bruising beginning to form… from rough hands on his arms, his hips…
"Restless night," he offered without mirth.
"Garak's made you his toy… Julian, if what I heard is true, you won't last… we need to get home."
Julian sat up. "If you've got some sort of plan, I am all ears."
"Not much of one… there's a version of Commander Sisko here, as well. I'm going to meet with him… see if we can work something out." She stood back as he got to his feet.
He gave an unstable wobble at first, steadying himself with a hand against the wall. "Look for the Chief." As Julian stepped to a table near the door, a sensor in the collar around his neck have a warning chirp. "Damn." He gestured to a bottle just out of reach. "Hand me that, would you?"
The chain on the collar had been removed, but the Cardassian design implemented an explosive countermeasure. If he strayed outside the security field… he preferred not to think about the consequences.
Kira grasped the bottle, looking down at the dark blue contents. "Are you sure?"
"I can't feel my feet, Major." He slid down the wall, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. "I need the alcohol."
She relinquished the bottle. "Why the Chief?"
Julian stared at her, frowning hard while he pulled the top from the bottle. He anticipated the rancid taste of the liquor and cringed as he took a draw from the bottle. "Gah! That is foul." He spat the aftertaste, his tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. "He may be just a technician here… but he's the only person on this base who would have a working knowledge of the facility. If we plan on getting out of here, we might need his help." He took another pull from the bottle. "I won't be doing much convincing if I remain locked up here…"
"A compliant participant… Such a difference."
The Gul settled against the warm back beneath him.
Julian lay still, the Cardassian tolerably heavy against his spine. He felt his skin dry in the cool air of the station, sticky from sweat and leavings.
His body ached, but in a satisfying way. He worked in small movements, stretching minor muscle groups without disturbing his… partner.
The thought made his heart ache. This was not… how he imagined…
In his world, Garak was a tailor. Without the physical definitions needed for active military service, he was comfortably… relaxed. Not that he'd let himself go by any means. But in contrast to the hard lines of the hips and thighs that cradled him, his Garak was softer.
Not that he would ever say.
The Gul lay quietly, breathing against the doctor's neck. "So warm." He murmured, his lips pliant on the darker skin. His hands slipped around his ribs, fingers trailing the bones beneath the flesh.
"Terrans are so vulnerable, are you not? Weak. Transient." He squeezed mildly.
Julian felt his bones shift in adjustment to the pressure. He swallowed, aware of the ease with which the Cardassian could injure… or even kill… if he saw fit.
Garak released the hold, his hands fingering up the doctor's chest, pulling around his shoulders instead.
A surprisingly warm tongue flicked out, dragging along Julian's jaw. "Never had one that tasted as good as you…"
Julian woke in the night. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, making out the pale form of the Cardassian in the dimness. Garak slept soundly, his arm captured around the doctor's hip… fingers sweeping his low abdomen.
The sensation was… something he hadn't experienced in his own world. Short of the light touch on his shoulder in a moment of whispered confidence, or the grasped hand… just a short time ago…
The feeling of Garak's touch… Just for a moment… If he could let himself think it was real…
Julian tested, his hand lightly brushing the gray scales that lined the outside of his arm. His breath caught and his grip tightened. Julian smirked and let his fingers wander farther, cresting the low ridge at the back of the Gul's elbow.
Garak cracked open an eye. Julian paused, waiting for a reaction, but the older man observed the doctor's curiosity silently.
"My Gul…" Julian whispered, daring to speak. "Will you permit me… to show you…?"
Garak rolled Julian to his back, setting his chest against the doctor's. "Where would you like to begin?"
Julian pushed up, moving Garak back. He turned them, freeing himself from the Cardassian's possessive hands at his hips. He scooted down to the end of the bed, tentatively reaching for Garak's feet.
"Most Cardassians have sensitive feet. Soft pads of flesh covering dexterous bone structure. The scales line only the tops and sides." Julian traced the soft scales with his fingertips, careful to avoid the thicker dermis until he was prepared… "Thin ridges extend from each toe to the ankle, marking the path of the underlying tendons."
When his hands moved to minister a slow massage of the pedal ridges, Garak sat up, a gasping hiss escaping him. But he didn't stop the doctor's gradual perusal. He watched intently, eyes widening with a kind of hunger.
Julian noted the lust, the heightened arousal. His lips twitched. And he stroked his fingertips around the tarsal rise and the scaled reaches at the Cardassian's calves.
He worked his way up, between his open thighs… the scales at the knees, the thicker dermis of the exterior femoris, the low dermal ridges on the interior of the quadriceps, rising to softer flesh… and then softer still.
The Cardassian gasped, his hand crawling out to grip Julian by the throat. "Finish."
Julian swallowed, his hands migrating to the backside. Garak sat forward against Julian's thighs, allowing a path for his physician's hands.
Without needing to look, Julian felt his way up the scaled backside, counting the dorsal ridges and lining the dermal sections along the way to the lowest of the transverse ribs. He marked them in lines as he progressed, a soft stroking swipe of his thumb across the skin, the low ridges sensitive under his fingers.
The harder scales around the lower edges of the shoulder blades proved less sensitive…except in one small region. His hand lingered between the shoulder blades, fingering a single spot of tender skin unmarked by scale or dorsal ridge. Garak tipped his head back and the grip at Julian's throat became a caress, fingertips barely brushing the soft skin.
"Mmm," Garak's low groan rumbled between them. The Cardassian pressed forward, his chest flush to the doctor's. The sound vibrated in Julian, stirring something…
Julian savored the reaction… If he had the chance… He remained optimistic that they would find a way to get home, and when they did…
He let his hand wander away, up over the shoulder. He explored the ridges of the trapezius, so often exposed… as if daring…
Julian sank his mouth to the ridge, his teeth gentle on the thick membrane. The bonelike extension of the Cardassian's neck proved to be a solid defense. He gave no indication he could even feel Julian pressing against it. Until his tongue dragged a long line at the lowest edge of the ridge scales up to his ear.
Garak moved his hand from the soft cradle at Julian's throat, dipping between them in the marginal gap at their waists.
The pressure Julian felt was a warning.
He quickly released the Cardassian, leaning his forehead against the shoulder searching for breath.
"I told you to finish." Garak's voice was throaty, heat-filled… and not at all like a threat.
Julian sat up, his eyes locking with the familiar blues of the Cardassian.
In another world, Julian reminded himself again.
The Gul pushed forward, dropping Julian to his back on the bed. He leaned over him, supporting himself on one arm. With the other, he caught Julian's hand and moved it on… along the arc of his neck and up under his chin.
Julian ran his thumb along the soft ridges at the Gul's jaw. Despite the hard appearance, they plied like the ears they extended from. He dipped his fingertip behind the ear, touching at the delicate pocket of skin.
A soft murmuring escaped the older man.
The Cardassian's hand fell away, imprisoning Julian between his arms. His eyes followed as Julian wandered his hands down over the fore-ribs and pectoral arches.
Julian kept his eyes on his task. His hand lingered over the breastbone, the flats of his fingers brushing the pale skin. He felt the weight of the older man as he pushed with his hips. Impatient.
He moved lower, lining the scale patterns over specific muscle groups, feeling the subtle flex beneath his fingers as each one was met with anticipation.
As his thumbs tucked along the instep of the hip, he felt the tensing flesh. He followed the taut muscles, finding the apex…
He was unable to keep his glance away from the hungry eyes that waited.
"My turn," Garak growled.
Julian lay on the bed, his back pressed into the sheets, avoiding the intense stare from the Cardassian. Garak was straddled over his waist, his hands crawling up the skin of his exposed chest.
At the doctor's neck, he hesitated. Julian felt his fingers tapping a rhythm against the edge of the collar, as if in thought.
The rhythm stopped and a sequence of toneless tabs was entered on the control modulator.
Garak removed the collar. "I am willing to take a chance. You wouldn't think of leaving without your friend… But know this, if you leave these quarters, I cannot vouch for your well being. Should any of my men find you… I have given them no instruction where you are concerned. They will treat you as any Terran. Possibly worse, if they assume you escaped the labor party."
He fingered the red marks where the collar had bitten into the skin. With more care than Julian believed the Gul capable of, he massaged the welts from his skin with tender thumbs.
As the last of the pinching sensation subsided, Julian felt an odd tightening in his throat. He swallowed back the lump of emotion. He felt the Cardassian's eyes on him, but he willed his eyes to remain dry. He was not about to show his vulnerability. The Gul seemed to take such pleasure in his human weaknesses. His feelings would likely be a great source of entertainment…
He felt one final stroke of fingers across the soft node where his throat met his chin before the bed shifted and the other man retreated.
"Be good now, Doctor." The Gul stepped from the room, taking the collar with him.
Julian sat up, his eyes studying the empty doorway which lead to the outer rooms. Garak was not gone, rather more likely preparing for his duty shift. Julian dropped back to the bed.
It was a test, he was certain. The removal of the collar was a challenge… free of the threat of injury or immediate death for disobedience, would he take the chance to go out?
How many hours had he been confined to this room? Days?
And what reason did he have to leave? What would he do or see? He felt nothing for this station… Terok Nor was not his home, it held nothing for him but vague glimpses of memory.
He turned over, curling into the woven blanket. It was of Cardassian make, light-weight fibers of immense warmth. Garak probably slept with it as a covering… before he adopted a living bed-warmer.
Garak.
He heard the outer door close and got up. He searched the room, but could not find his uniform jumpsuit or the undershirt anywhere.
Julian groaned. "Have your liberation, Doctor. Just a tease, Doctor. Go explore… How about some damn clothes, Garak?" He grumbled to the empty room.
He set his jaw and went to examine the closet. There were a few simple tunics arranged by color hanging with matched slacks.
Without another option, he chose one at random and pulled the shirt over his head.
He stared at his reflection in the glass above a table. The clothes were large, too broad for his shoulders. The neck was designed wide, for the comfort of the Cardassian neck ridges. It slipped, and Julian worked to adjust it. He would look out of place…
What was he thinking? He was out of place…
He shook his head. He would risk it… to find something familiar. Anything would do…
Julian stood at the door to the vacant space.
He had wandered the Promenade for nearly an hour, looking into shops that did not exist in his world, searching for… for what he wasn't sure.
But here, at this shop… what would have been the Replimat… he swallowed the morose feeling of displaced reality.
No tables adorned the space, though he could have paced off the exact layout… identified his preferred, quiet corner where their conversations were the highlight of his day.
"Are those tears, Doctor?"
"I would say not." Julian closed his eyes, not daring to turn.
He felt a cool finger catch a droplet, heard the quiet sound of a mouth opening… He peeked over. Garak had his finger tucked just inside his lips. The Cardassian met his glance and slowly withdrew his finger.
Had he tasted his tears? It seemed so… it also seemed out of character for this Gul.
The Cardassian leaned over his shoulder, his voice quiet. "You have wandered off, Terran. Where were you trying to go?"
Julian let his shoulders droop, the tunic sagging to one side. "Just… through memory…" His hand fell away from the shop door.
"I see. Did you come here with him? My other self?" The voice was curious, no threat or mockery intoned.
"This is a restaurant… where I come from. We eat lunch together." Julian turned away from the shop. "We talk."
"Talk. He sounds boring. I suppose he's not in the Cardassian army?"
Julian stared silently for a moment. The Gul stood opposite, his arms loose, his head tilted in curiosity, his lips parted slightly, ridged brow lifted expectantly… The expression was so reminiscent of his Elim Garak…
"No… he once was a member of the Obsidian Order… but he's now a tailor."
The Gul scoffed. "A tailor?"
"Tinker. Tailor. Soldier. Spy… it's all relative." He started walking in the direction of the habitat ring. He decided not to mention Garak's stint as a gardener…
"Well, you are privileged then. To know the other me so well. Shame that we are so different. Disappointed?"
Julian didn't answer. He could feel the tension in the air. The Gul was upset about something…
"Pardon the intrusion…"
"Nerys." Garak hissed the name.
"Now Garak, we are not on such familiar terms as that. The Intendant requests your presence." Kira stood, eyes averted with her hands laced at her back.
The Cardassian drew the tip of his nose against the doctor's neck, from the shallow hollow near his shoulder to the juncture below his jaw. Julian remained still, despite the tingling goose flesh prickling his skin.
"I shall return… see that you don't run off again." He patted a hand to the back of the doctor's neck. "Such a pretty piece. I would hate to cover it. Though, if another binding is the way to teach you obedience… I may not have an alternative."
Garak fingered the loose tunic at Julian's shoulder. "Too bad we have no tailor to provide a proper fitting."
Julian's stomach turned.
The Gul stepped through the door, leaving his pet in the company of the Intendant's copy.
"You've become no more than Garak's lapdog, Julian. I saw you with him on the Promenade… Do you even want to go home?"
The doctor bristled. "That," he pointed to the door, "was not Garak. Not the one I know."
He passed to the window, thinking of much quieter interactions with a gentler Elim Garak. Shared lunches and debates about literature and philosophy… The lingered glances that they never spoke of… "Of course I want to go home."
He turned back to the open room, ignoring the pain lancing through his chest… "How'd Sisko take your idea?"
"He threw it back in my face." She sighed, dropping to a chair. "But, I got the impression he's not exactly happy to be in his position. He's basically a slave trader. He goes around stealing wandering souls to work in the ore processing unit. He's betraying his own kind… Our Sisko would never stand for that…" Kira pursed her mouth in thought. "I get the feeling, this Sisko isn't very happy with it either."
"Planting the seeds of rebellion, are you, Major?" Julian smiled.
Julian could not see a way to the door past the Gul. He stood, eyeing every route, his breathing elevating as each one was disregarded as impassable. He glanced at the Gul, working on absolving himself to his fate.
He would stay behind… So that the others could escape, he would remain tied to this place, this life… Perhaps someday he would…
The Gul traveled his eyes over Julian. The doctor noted the slow intake of breath and the tilt of his head, his eyes marking a narrow path beside him. The Gul shifted slightly—barely enough space to accommodate the doctor.
Julian clenched his teeth and moved as the Cardassian did, giving no thought to the unlikely shift in character.
As he passed, his shoulder brushed the Cardassian's armor. A thick hand wrapped around his arm, halting his progress.
Julian froze, his stomach dropping away… the brief shadow of hope vanishing.
"Where do you think you're going." The voice was low, the breath of it tickling at the short hairs over his ear.
Julian ducked as Kira slammed a Klingon disruptor into the Cardassian's nose. The impact forced him back on his feet, releasing his hold on Julian's arm.
"You—" the Gul's words died in his throat when he saw the firing end of the disruptor aimed at his chin.
Julian let a member of the Terran smuggling crew show him to the door, Kira watching his back.
"I will find you again, Doctor. In this world or the next."
The claim gave Julian pause. He turned back once, his eyes soft as he evaluated the Gul. "Maybe I'll be the one to find you."
"Julian, come on!" Kira shouted for him. The doctor turned and followed her from the room.
As they ran down the corridor to the landing bay, the rebels shouted excitedly.
Julian and Kira broke off from their ranks as they came to the airlock where their runabout waited. He felt Kira's eyes on him even as she gave parting remarks.
Julian didn't even settle in his seat before preparing the craft for departure. His mind was already on what awaited them.
"This had better work…"
The communications link with the station terminated. Kira sighed leaning back into her seat. "It's good to be back." She repeated, more to herself than to her companion.
She looked over at the doctor. A mixture of emotions flooded his expression. He glanced up, catching her stare. "I'm fine, Major."
"I doubt that. What you went through—"
"I'm fine. Major." He emphasized, standing from his station to retrieve the medical kit from the bulkhead.
"Julian, I'll accept that when you can execute your duties without the shell-shocked look on your face."
Julian closed down, his face dropping all emotion to focus on his responsibility as a medical officer. The only indication he gave of their experience was the Cardassian clothing he still wore.
He tended to the minor scrapes and bruises from their escape, and administered a hypo-spray of general antibiotic.
"Before we land, Major, I want to be very clear. I will be calling my medical team to do a complete scan. For both of us."
Kira watched the absolute control Julian held over his medical duties, and was disappointed with his easy dismissal of what he had been through. "Julian. You can't bury it. This is something you will have to confront." She set a kind hand to his shoulder. "If you want to continue to be Garak's friend… you'll have to come to terms with it."
Julian sighed, sitting back in his seat. He keyed in the initial landing procedures, and let the computer take over. "I know that."
"Then for his sake, as well as yours, talk to him?" She worried when Julian stiffened at the suggestion.
Julian looked over at her. "You think the best way to address it is to… expose myself. Thank you, I think I've done enough of that."
The runabout landed and the docking clamps engaged.
"You once told me that you trusted him," Kira stood. "Are you telling me that you don't trust him now? That your perception of him's changed now that you've met how he could've been?"
Julian sat unmoving. It took him a moment before he answered. "I don't know."
"Do you want to trust him?"
Julian slouched forward, his hands coming up to cover his face. "God. I do. So many times… I even wanted to trust that inflated Gul. It's my saving grace, he made that nearly impossible. I wanted to believe that Garak, my Garak, was there inside him… somewhere."
"Talk to him, Julian."
As they disembarked, stepping from the airlock to the corridor proper, he committed the familiar colors to memory, overwriting the scenes in his mind as he went. It had felt like an eternity. But he was home again.
Almost back to himself.
Kira touched his shoulder, a sympathetic smile touching her mouth. "I'll head to Ops… Sisko will be expecting a debrief."
"I'll come with you…"
"I can handle it. There's someone you need to see first."
Julian couldn't keep the unsettled feeling from gathering in his stomach. "I'm not sure if I can face him yet…"
"Julian, he is your friend. Much as I used to believe, he is not a sadistic malcontent… we left that one behind." She let go of his arm and made her way to the lift.
Julian watched her go, half of him wanting to follow… the other half…
He turned, taking a steadying breath, and made his way to the Promenade.
"…I seem to have lost my uniform…"
The tailor's hands froze on the suit he was dressing on a display unit. His eyes peeked around the form to find the doctor standing in his door way. The man leaned against the door frame, looking disheveled.
"My dear Doctor, you look like you've seen better days." Garak came around slowly, noting the single back step Julian made at the advance.
"Better days are here again…" He voiced cryptically, offering a failing smile.
The dim light over the door hid Julian's appearance well enough from a distance. He wondered if the closer vantage would expose the deeper injury… the one in his eyes that he couldn't quite mask.
"Julian…" The Cardassian frowned, speaking the name he had rarely voiced before.
The doctor closed his eyes and wondered if this was such a good idea. Garak was too perceptive…
He felt a cool hand touch softly at his cheek.
"Where have you been all this time?"
Julian's hand shook as he raised it to hold Garak's in place.
"Far away from where I belonged. In the company of those who despised me." His fingers curled around Garak's palm, his hold becoming desperate. He searched out the soft blue eyes he had missed. "In a nightmare."
The uttered words moved the Cardassian. His arms came around the doctor…
Julian trembled under the close contact. He took a breath of the Cardassian's shoulder, settling himself with the soft fragrance.
"You do realize, you've just described my exile."
"Is there any other way to define it? An alternate world where everyone you have ever known is either dead or a gross betrayal of who you believed them to be…" Julian stepped out of his arms. He turned away, but remained in their shared space. "You were there…"
Garak swallowed. Julian's eyes shifted to the edge of his periphery, not quite enough to see the Cardassian… not entirely sure he wanted to…
The margin of confidence he came with withered away. He exhaled, and stepped away.
"Where are you going?" Garak stopped him at the door, a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Major Kira is giving a report on what happened. I should really be there."
"She can take care of that. The Major is quite capable."
"Please, Garak…" His voice shook. He was barely holding it together.
"Computer, secure door." Garak guided the doctor to a narrow seat at the edge of his shop, taking the space beside him on the left. "Now. Tell me what happened."
"You're sure, Major?" Odo asked, arms crossed as he listened to the debriefing.
"If I hadn't seen it myself… I would have a hard time believing it." She considered for a moment, working out a better way to explain it. "The Federation has record of a Captain James Kirk who crossed to a parallel universe when the transporters aboard his starship malfunctioned. Julian mentioned it…" She stopped, her worry for the doctor's situation interrupting her thoughts. She shook her head in an effort to refocus. "On the other side, measures were taken to keep it from happening again. There is even a law in place requiring the immediate death of anyone who crosses over. Things would have turned out very different had we not met… myself."
"Different indeed." Odo dropped his arms. "Captain Sisko, is this true… is this record in Federation history?"
"I'm afraid it is, Odo." Sisko picked up his baseball and tossed it between his hands. "As for Doctor Bashir, where is he now?"
Kira sat forward, her arms resting on the Commander's desk. "He's… taking care of a personal matter."
"That is unacceptable. He is a Starfleet officer. His responsibility is to report on these events." Sisko tapped the baseball on the desk.
"Sir, I told him to go. Due to the circumstance of his captivity on the other side…" She was hesitant to divulge Julian's experience.
"Don't bother with excuses, Major. I want him in my office."
"Give him time." Kira's voice was intent. "He knows he has a responsibility to report his side of the events. Let him get his footing back, first."
Sisko sighed, rolling the baseball in his hand. "Alright. I suppose Starfleet can wait before the official report is submitted." He leaned back in his seat. "Tell me about this pirate-Sisko, then."
"Were I there, I would kill him." Garak flexed his hands.
A snorted laugh escaped the doctor.
"You don't believe me? I am quite serious. And more than capable." He set his left hand on Julian's knee. "My dear Doctor. An injury to you is as personal an affront to me as ever could be."
"Thank you for that." Julian leaned his shoulder against his friend. He was quiet for a long time, letting their companionable silence linger. "I was afraid to tell you… I didn't want things to change…"
Garak sat up, his right hand meeting Julian's jaw. "Whatever you want, I am willing. I would never dream of… forcing… the matter."
Julian saw him swallow, caught the contained emotion in his eyes. He leaned forward slowly, giving both of them time.
He hesitated. His mouth a breath away, the cool hand gentle on his face. Did he want this, really? Or was he experiencing some kind of physical withdrawal after being so intimately involved in the other world?
Garak tipped his head, his chin lifting to place a soft kiss at his temple. "Give yourself time, Julian. I'll be here whenever you want me."
Patience, and the insistence that the doctor take care of himself first… Julian blinked softly, a slow draw of lids over eyes. He relaxed, really let himself relax, and leaned forward.
Garak put his arms around the doctor, holding him as he let go of the remnants of his restrained emotions.
"Did he dress you in these?" Garak's voice was laced with disdain.
Julian picked up his head from Garak's shoulder. "He didn't dress me at all. He took my uniform, and left me with nothing to wear. I found these in his closet."
"My god… he had no taste at all." Garak stood, holding a hand out to the doctor. "Come, let's get you something decent to wear. And then, if you'd like, I'll go with you to your debriefing."
"I would appreciate it." He took Garak's hand, letting the Cardassian leverage him from his seat.
"I suppose you would feel more comfortable in your uniform?"
Julian didn't respond. He stared at their joined hands.
Garak turned to him. "Julian?"
"I'm sorry." He whispered.
Garak adjusted their hold, interlacing their fingers. "It's going to be alright. We'll get you changed, and then we'll go meet the Commander." Garak paused. When Julian met his eyes, he repeated, "It's going to be alright."
Julian paced outside the door. He stopped once to pound a hand against his forehead. He was being ridiculous.
"Just go back to your quarters, Julian." He scolded himself.
He had just turned to head back to his section, when the door opened.
He peered over his shoulder to find Garak standing with his left hand over the door channel. "My dear Doctor, what has called you to visit at such an hour?"
Julian was struck by the uncovered state of Garak's sleeping attire. The wide neck tunic dropped in a low 'v', revealing the notch at his breastbone where the pectoral arches merged.
With effort, he pulled his eyes up to the Cardassian's face. "I didn't mean to wake you, Garak. I'm sorry to have disturbed you…"
"Don't be silly," his sleep-roughened voice chuckled, "I'm always up at this time of night." He waited, but when Julian didn't respond he offered, "Would you like to come in?
"Thank you…" Julian passed the portal awkwardly, keeping a noticeable space between them.
Garak closed and secured the door, his eyes watching the doctor as he circled the room in an uncomfortable sort of shuffle.
"Julian, please sit down. Let yourself relax."
The doctor shook his head. "I tried to wait until a decent time to talk with you. But… it couldn't wait. I couldn't wait. I wanted… to see you."
Garak came around, carefully aware of the doctor's cautious observation of his movements. He sat at a chair in the middle of the room, giving Julian whatever space he chose. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"
"I wanted to ask… Oh, God, I'm awful." He covered his mouth with his left hand. He tried to swallow the fear that bubbled up.
"Ask. Julian, there is nothing you could say that would change anything between us."
"This would." Julian moved to the window. One thing he could say, Garak's quarters were more humble than those of the Gul… smaller, with only one room. He glanced back at the single bed, his mouth suddenly dry.
Garak blinked, following the direction of the doctor's gaze. "I see…" He stood from his seat and moved to the younger man. He stopped opposite the desk.
Julian let out a breath, relieved that Garak was so thoughtful. Interactions between them were going to be uncomfortable until he could get past his experience in the other world. Garak allowed the piece of furniture to act as a barrier between them. The fact let the doctor relax—if marginally.
"This is insane… What I came here to ask… And I'm behaving like this…" Julian stared at the desk, the items arranged on its surface according to their practical need. The PADD and accompanying stylus were positioned along the deep umber inlay at the edge of the desk, close at hand when the worker was seated.
"Have you had your medical team check on you?"
Julian continued to stare at the desk. It was meant to be a distraction… that awkward question… and he knew it. Garak likely meant it to be jarring enough to shake him from his discomfort. He answered clinically. "Yes. There was a medical kit aboard the runabout. I was able to manage most of our physical injuries myself. But, I had a broad-spectrum antibiotic administered to both the Major and myself, as well as… other precautionary measures."
"Good." His arms came around his chest, a mild shudder passing through him.
Julian raised his eyes. "You're cold." He pulled the lightweight woven blanket from the back of the desk chair and approached the Cardassian, his embarrassment forgotten. He fingered the soft material… it was the same blanket he had wrapped in after…
He stopped. Not the same. Similar.
He stood behind Garak and laid the blanket across his shoulders.
The tailor rested his hands on Julian's as the blanket settled into place. "Thank you. The Bajorans and humans prefer to keep the station… well, cooler than I would like. It seems I always feel cold."
Julian's fingers felt the chill of Garak's hands. "You don't have to…"
Garak turned. Julian let his hands fall as the tailor shifted to face him. He remained in place, though, watching Garak watch him.
Julian waited for Garak to turn him away, or to accept him…
Garak seemed to simply wait. He blinked at the doctor. When Julian offered no further words on the subject, he prompted. "What do you suggest?"
"…Use me…?" Julian's voice trembled.
Garak lifted his right hand, setting his cool palm to the doctor's warm cheek. He closed his eyes. "That is delightful." He opened his eyes again. "And you are sweet for offering. But, I am not certain that is what you truly want."
"Don't I?" He leaned forward, pressing against the mild resistance of Garak's hand. He tipped his face lower, resting his cheek to the ear ridges along the Cardassian's jaw, and down to the exposed neck ridges. Garak's hand threaded back into his hair.
"I have wanted this since before I was lost in that hellish place." His mouth mumbled into the soft fabric of the sleeping shirt.
Garak pulled Julian's face up. He stared intently into his eyes. "…And what was it that you wanted to ask…?" His breath ratcheted as Julian's right hand found the depression behind his left ear, gently fingering the soft pocket of skin.
Julian leaned forward. "Can I… stay with you?"
Garak's left hand came up, his fingertips drawing against the soft skin of Julian's opposite cheek. "My dear Doctor…" Garak tipped his chin forward, pressing his open mouth to the younger man's.
Julian accepted the soft lips… learning their contours in a way he was not allowed before. These lips were tender against his, testing, gently mouthing around his. He reciprocated, moving his own with them.
He felt a deft hand sneak to his collar, tugging at the closure of his casual shirt. The line of fabric separated, and a cool hand ran the length of his warm chest, curving around his ribs.
Julian pulled back, watching Garak explore him. The blanket had dropped from his shoulders.
"So warm…" The breath was barely above a whisper, silenced when Garak's face dropped to press into Julian's throat.
"Garak…" Julian's voice was unsteady. "…may I…?"
The Cardassian leveled a gentle reproving stare at the doctor. "Julian. Use me as you will. There is no need to ask…"
Julian smiled, the boyish grin he thought he had abandoned days ago. His hands slipped beneath Garak's sleeping tunic, lifting it up in folds, and pulling the article over the Cardassian's head. Garak's hair stood out oddly, making Julian's smile widen, showing teeth.
Garak raised a hand to smooth the dark riot, but Julian stayed him with another kiss.
"It's nice to see you a little unkempt."
Garak kissed him back, his mouth lingering on the doctor's soft lips. He spoke into them. "It's nice to see you smile again…"
His hands curved around the doctor's hips, drawing him closer. His smooth fingers wandered up his chest to slide the shirt free of the dark toned arms. As it fell noiselessly to the floor, Garak's skilled fingers circled the doctor's jaw. The pads of his fingers swept the skin in small motions, working down along his neck.
Julian could feel more of the tension leaving him under the soft ministration. Garak continued his quiet work even as Julian leaned forward, his mouth finding the Cardassian's.
Slow, palpitating meetings… an exchange of breaths and mouthings…
"Garak… I…" Julian's insides quivered.
"Please, Julian…" A gentle breath caught the doctor's ear, fingertips tracing the breadth of the darker chest and abdomen. "Call me Elim…"
"…Elim…" Julian moaned, the name barely formed. Garak's hands wandered over his torso, feeling at the rises of ribs, the notches of his spine.
Garak let his mouth follow where his hands had been, working his jaw against the soft skin of Julian's throat, his chest, the gentle rise at his sides where ribs crested. He didn't move behind him. He stayed where Julian could watch, could tell him if he wanted to stop.
Gray hands traced down over lean hips, careful to stay above the line of his trousers.
Julian stilled, his hands meeting Garak's. "Elim."
Garak withdrew his hands, threading his fingers with the doctor's. His eyes were wide, cautious… concerned. "Julian, tell me."
Julian fell into the expression, lost in the tenderness of those pale blue irises. He moved their hands to his hips, settling Garak's on his waist. Slowly, he tucked their joined fingers into his waistband. He left Garak's still fingertips resting against the depression where the curve of his hip descended into… more sensitive areas. He opened the closure of his trousers.
"I want you everywhere… I just want you…"
Garak's hand tucked around Julian's back, holding the warmth of the doctor in his hands. "Julian, are you sure? I have no wish to hurt you."
"I need you to, Garak… Elim. Please."
Garak slid Julian's trousers free of his hips, following the article with gentle, caressing hands. He brushed over the healing bruises, briefly lining his hands up with the marks that had been dug into his skin.
A noiseless growl vibrated low in the Cardassian's throat.
Julian felt the reaction, let it course through him. "Elim…" He gasped, leaning into Garak's hands. He had no voice to power the cry.
The Cardassian stood, his mouth searching out and finding Julian's. His hands encircled the doctor's hips, low, fingertips grazing the dimples at the base of his spine.
Warm fingers ran against the scales of the Cardassian's shoulder blades… searching…
Julian prodded gently at the tender skin between the shoulder blades, that section unguarded by ridge or scale. He smoothed his fingertips across the exposure…
Garak moaned, his muscles losing all sense. He buried his face into Julian's neck, his breath ragged. The doctor passed the flats of his fingers against that smooth space, eliciting another long, breathless moan from the Cardassian.
Julian picked up Garak's face, gazing into his eyes.
One hand fell to Garak's front, pulling the drawstring of his trousers. They slinked down his hips, loose. Julian slid his hand into the waistband.
The material pooled to the floor.
He rocked forward, his pelvis tight to the other.
Garak adjusted his hands. They separated… but only just…
Tender fingers…
Uneven breath…
Motions…
"…Elim… Don't…" Julian rasped.
"Julian…?" A half-whine escaped the Cardassian. The rhythm hesitated.
"Don't stop!" The doctor leaned further into the working fingers. "…Elim…"
"Julian."
Julian gasped, his fingers clawing into the thick, black Cardassian locks.
A warm breath… a soft tongue… a rumbling moan…
Julian groaned, his hips ratcheting forward… the receiving grip moved with him, accepting…
Heat pooled, escaping…
Julian felt the reaction, let it course through him. "Elim…" He gasped, leaning into Garak's hands. Still, his voice was choked, powerless.
Cool hands soothed the burn, quieting the ache…
Garak pressed his mouth softly to Julian's, his hand drifting along the gradual rise of his vertebrae. The depressions at the doctor's hip attracted his fingertips, his thumbs smoothing over his hips.
He steered Julian backward. The doctor's backside met the narrow Cardassian sleeping platform.
Julian rolled on his hip, turning them. Garak pressed back against the stiff frame of the bed, his body plying to Julian's form.
The doctor leaned into Garak, his mouth ghosting across the sensitive, lower scales of the neck ridges.
Garak tipped back, lowering them both to the bed. Their limbs tangled as they shifted. They lay pressed together, staring at one another.
A rolling hip… a flexed muscle… a nudging lip… a grazing nose… The slight movements of their silent conversation.
The Cardassian pushed up on his hands, pressing his chest to Julian's. His mouth crawled along the doctor's jaw. Julian arched his neck back, rising to his knees. Garak shifted… and Julian settled against his back.
He pressed his mouth to that tender spot, his tongue peeking out to feel… to taste…
Garak gasped, lifting from the bed surface. His fingers dragged against the coverings.
Julian locked his knees at the Cardassian's hips… lowering…
Garak let out a low moan, arching back against the doctor…
Soft hands mapped tender places…
Moans and sighs left parted lips…
Breath and heart raced…
Stayed heat spilled out.
Julian pulled away, gently. His hands coaxing down the trembling body beneath him.
Julian opened his eyes to stare at a swath of gray scales. A small curve on his lip worked its way to a full smile.
Better than imagined…
His hand skimmed the finite ridge of Garak's outer shoulder.
"My dear Doctor, are you late to your shift?" The sleepy voice thrummed though his chest.
"I've been put on a week's leave…"
"Good. I quite enjoy waking up… warm."
Garak shifted beneath him. Julian moved over, rolling from the Cardassian's back to settle at his side. They lay facing one another.
"Are you alright?" Garak's hand traced the curve of Julian's cheek, his fingers finding the ready smile at his mouth.
"Better than fine." Julian pressed forward, his leg mounting the defined ridge along the Cardassian's hip.
Afterward
"Commander, I would like to request a formal change in living arrangements."
"Is there a problem, Doctor Bashir? You know I can't make a change without reason… Space on this station is limited. And unless you give me good cause, a single cabin is all you can expect."
"My situation has changed, Commander. I am in a committed relationship."
"Really? Well this is a development." The lilt in the Commander's voice told Julian that his superior was aware of his personal relations.
Julian stared across the desk at the Commander. "We are currently sharing quarters…and as I rarely use my own living area… We wanted to update the station records." Julian shifted under the Commander's scrutiny. "We would like family quarters."
Sisko quirked a brow at the other man. "I'll see what I can do…"
Julian nodded his thanks and turned to the door.
"Doctor, you do know that housing accommodations require a personnel roster? All parties must be named for the change to process."
Julian let a small smile turn his lips. "I'm aware."
Sisko nodded. "I see things with Mister Garak are going well, then." He smiled at the doctor. "I am happy for you both."
A/N: Thank you to all who read this. I welcome any thoughts you have...
As a parting thought, as I was considering a title for this piece, I was reminded of the ending lyrics to a song by The Classic Crime, "Broken Mess":
Love is a beautiful thing, she can make your heart sing
When you're walking on broken glass
She will open your eyes, make your heart feel alive
Point you toward the sunrise
Help you leave all this broken mess behind
Love is a beautiful thing
Will you leave this broken mess behind?