The few times that Julian had been in Garak's quarters, he had noticed how much uninhabited did they seem. It wasn't because of the lack of the remembrances, but because of something elusive that he couldn't entitle. However, the table set for dinner represented the complete antithesis to the hovering aloofness, filling the air with scents of the unknown to Julian dishes and spices.
When the dinner came to an end, the cardassian led him to the door.
"I hope, the familiarity with the cardassian cuisine turned out to be to your liking, my dear Julian."
"You are displaying your hidden talents again, Garak," Julian smiled.
After hesitating for a moment, he leaned forward, but the cardassian managed to set a palm in front of himself, holding him just a couple of inches before the touch.
"My dear Julian, I'm grateful to you for the nice evening we spent... but we are just friends."
Julian stared him in the eyes and tilted his head slightly to the side — exactly the way Garak used to do so. Having taken the hand of the cardassian by the wrist, he moved it aside.
"Are we?"