Julian sneezed. Garak cast a suspicious sidelong look at him, clutching a cup of hot beverage in his hands.

"I hope, you haven't got ill, doctor, have you?"

"A common cold," Julian waved away. "Nothing you should worry about."

The cardassian tightened his lips disapprovingly.

"You are well aware that I can hardly stand the cold and other hardships at this station. So let me decide what I should worry about and what I shouldn't."

"Garak, I..." Julian looked a bit guilty, "I do really not think that it's contagious."

"You don't think so? That is, you don't know?" Garak's eyeridges lifted menacingly. "And so after that you do still call yourself a doctor?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I don't want to say, my dear Julian, but you treat your health with a criminal negligence."

"And it is you telling me this?"

"Somebody should."

Julian opened his mouth to retort, but changed his mind.

"Garak, are you... worried about me?"

"No more than I should," the cardassian chuckled. "We are just friends."