Another Chapter

Perfect in every way.

The stroll. The candor in the conversation. The striking distance between them. Ideal.

I don't remember being that way with Garak.

Ziyal asked me to style her hair and now I do so every morning. We haggle over her choice of dress. I tell her to wear an elegant sky blue cut. Her complaint was that it was a Bajoran cut and not a Cardassian one.

Already, she sees how Garak clings to Cardassian fashion. Even if he is a bit unorthodox. Although she enjoys every moment with him. They complain over the same things. Discuss, debate, and reconcile over subjects that expand from politics within the Federation to the efficiency of Constable Odo's observation skills.

Garak always waves to Ziyal on her way to school. Her reaction is a daily repeat. Upturned shy lips and a tiny raising of pearl-skinned hand.

And I am dismissed as another schoolmate. Merely accompanying her.

But he is a part of her life now. Over the past year, he has become as close to her as I am. I hadn't counted on that. I watched it happen, though on many occasions, I considered crushing it.

Ziyal's life has changed dramatically. She claims to be "fond" of Garak. I had quickly mentioned how fondness often grows into something else. Something much more serious.

However, Garak's reaction might surpass my own.

Ziyal informed me only moments ago that she planned on telling Garak that he is the sole recipient of her affection. I had listened and nodded. I told her that I understood everything that she was experiencing and that perhaps she should wait.

Of course, she ignored my advice. Labeled me in mockery as "overly cautious and worried."

So I am watching her. One hand on a phaser in my bag. The other is around an Uytil tea.

I am holding watch in Quark's bar. Their round table is set up with waiters teeming around them with tasty delicacies. My own seating arrangements are far less glamorous; I sit alone against the wall. It's another one of their late night dinners.

Both of them are terrible insomniacs and can never seem to sleep without a full stomach.

Ziyal only acknowledged my presence once before they were seated. The devilish expression on her face spoke of only one thing. Her anticipation.

Please, Ziyal. Don't be foolish.

I wait for their table to be abandoned. They never actually speak unless there are no distractions. In Cardassian terms, it's a very respectful gesture. A showing of wanting only to hear and experience only each other's company.

"My dear, your dress is quite stunning. Please give my compliments to your tailor." Garak tips his glass to Ziyal and marks the first compliment of the evening.

Her fingers touch the black collar. "There may be some difficulties with that. He is much too gracious for compliments."

"Believe me, he would be far more receiving than you would assume."

"In that case, do you think that he would accept an invite to dinner?"

A personal light that only a well-said comment could bring appears in Garak's demeanor. "Undoubtedly. He already has."

How they play together. Bantering and laughing. I am no more than background to them but even the walls have ears. I have much more than that and in a small way, I curse the fact.

I am happy that she is happy. I am pleased that he has found someone to pass his sentence with. However I am not delighted with my current situation.

I haven't told Ziyal that she is going to be very heartbroken. I know that Garak is leaving the station to chase a ghost message. I happened to "overhear" what happened two days ago on the promenade. A message from deep in Dominion space has the bearing of a Cardassian tracer.

And of course, Garak recognizes it as one from Enabran Tain.

My suspicion is that Garak has invited our young friend to break the news to her. I only hope that he does so with far greater grace than he had while trying to steal the runabout. I understand that Dr. Bashir hardly even had to attempt any sort of interference before Garak gave in.

"Ziyal, I had hoped to discuss something of some importance."

The aquamarine eyes speculate with a small nod.

"Quite recently, we have come upon a message. A link that may or may not confirm the death of Enabrin Tain." Difficulty twists itself in his voice but his sight never falters. "I will depart tomorrow morning for the Gamma Quadrant.

"The Gamma Quadrant?" Terrified and horrified all at once, the beautiful visage turns paler. "You can't go to the Gamma Quadrant."

"I can and I will." He is making himself strong for her. "I have to."

To know the worry and hurt that is going through her is my experience in this conversation. I can sympathize and empathize. It is no easy feat to sit in front of someone we care for and not do everything within our power to stop them from leaving us.

Ziyal shakes her as though it can clear her own fears away. "But if something were to happen to you, I don't know what I'd do."

My tea is cooling down and finally I sip at the overly sweet-root tea. Somehow, within these circumstances, it is hardly enjoyable. An inkling of what she is hinting at has shown. He diffuses the situation by playing it as though it is no more than company they share

"Oh, I'm sure you could find someone else to eat your meals with. Not that you'll have to. I fully intend to return." The smile is chipper but the countenance is reminiscent of an Earth funeral.

I try to imagine what a world without Garak would be for my current stature. He thinks I am dead and that may be the cruelest joke of the universe. For him to assume that I am gone while I standby and watch him die during a pointless quest. Everything would be turned upside down and I would have never taken the chance to set it right. For a second, I doubt why I remain sitting here and not with him.

Until I hear Ziyal. "It's not just the meals." She shakes her head at him as though he had completely misinterpreted everything that she had ever told him.

"I know. I'm the only other Cardassian on the station."

She repeats the same incredulous look and action of negating his words. "It's not that either. And you know it. It's just that you're intelligent and cultured and kind."

On the outside, I am staring down at the Jongo table. On the inside, I am hoping that he will give in to her. Perhaps, she is much too young for him and much too innocent on that note. However she cares and her gift is that she makes everyone else care. Even people like Garak and myself.

"My dear, you're young. So, I realize you're a poor judge of character." Then again, this is Garak that we are talking about. I try to refrain from throwing the remnants of my tea on him. I don't believe that Ziyal would forgive me for interrupting.

"Why do you always make fun of my feelings for you?"

He gives her a look over her childish petulance. "Perhaps, because I find them a touch misguided."

"If that's what you think, why do you spend so much time with me?" Hearing the hurt in her voice hits me deep inside and as I glance their way; I can see that Garak is just as affected.

"Because I'm exiled." And there is that openness that can only be precious because it is from such a solitary being like Garak. "Alone. And a long way from home. And when I'm with you, it doesn't seem so bad."

She is pleased by hearing such things. I watch her lean slightly towards him and their hands join together.

"I'm glad I can help."

Then I see it. The part about Garak that can make anyone genuinely feel for him; his sincerity. "Ziyal, no matter what happens, no matter how bleak things might look, I promise you. I will come back. I give you my word."

"I believe you."

I have to admit it now even if I never have the opportunity in the future. I have to take the moment and confess it to myself. They fit together. I may have been an ideal choice because of the darkness within my soul but she is brilliant for him. I couldn't have chosen better for Garak.

They are so lost in each other's gazes and I am so lost in the hopelessness of my own predicament that I completely ignore everything else. And in walks the nightmare that I have always hoped to avoid.

Cardassian gray armor. Tall and angrily stomping towards them.

"Take your hands off her."

Dukat.

With one hand still on my phaser, I watch my commander wrench Garak out of his chair without any show of difficulty. He drags the squirming agent to the rail and dangles him over the edge. For a moment, I don't know which one I am more likely to fire upon.

But the smallest order is given and I could never surmise how Dukat knows that I will be able to understand what he wants. He leans his head away from the scene and it would take someone who has served under his command to know that he means to clear the area.

Now.

Without a glance back, I stream through the gathering crowd and I know that no one even notices. With each step taking me away from there, I only pray that Garak is at least able to make it out alive for his journey tomorrow. He may find more than he had expected and that is just a hunch on my part.