Some time later, Bashir looked over and saw that Garak's eyes were open and watching him with that same intense, level stare.
He hadn't been awake when Bashir had looked half an hour earlier, at least, he hadn't seemed to be.
"Better?" He asked quietly.
Garak nodded slightly, one hand emerging from the bundle of blankets long enough to tug the hood around his face more firmly. "Much better, doctor."
The Human smiled slightly and turned back to the padd he had been reading. He had given up exercising; it was too tiring and cramped right now.
"Doctor, are you quite all right?"
He nodded. "Yes, I'm fine." He forced another shudder still. "Just a bit stiff from sitting."
Blue eyes fell shut for a few long moments, and Bashir watched and Garak shifted under the blankets again, assumedly trying to get comfortable.
"Garak?"
He looked up with a faintly questioning gaze.
"Are you sure you're all right now?"
"Yes, doctor. Quite pleasant, actually, I must see about investing in one of these electrical blankets." He rolled onto one side, pillowing his face on one large hand. "I was thinking about other matters."
"Other matters?" Bashir came closer, kneeling by the bunk. "You're sure you're not too cool?"
"No. In fact I'm warmer than I have been for several years, barring one or two extenuating circumstances." The Cardassian looked almost smug for a moment as he softly rubbed his cheek against his hand. "I am more concerned about the colouring of your skin."
"My skin? Um," Bashir touched his cheek, but his fingers were feeling distinctly numb. "Why?"
"Because that shade of white and blue is not healthy for Humans. In fact, you're starting to look a healthy shade for a half Bolian. You're starting to match that ugly uniform."
"Garak, I said I was fine." He sighed and rubbed at his face with cold fingers.
"I know what you said, but that makes it neither accurate nor the truth." He sat up. "You need to warm yourself. I cannot care for both of us in this temperature." It seemed to almost pain him to admit even that weakness to Bashir.
Bashir knew he was being a bit stubborn, but he had to be careful. Given half a chance the Cardassian would be up and about and trying to repair the engine if it would save face in front of his companion.
Bashir understood how that mind worked a little more than he would like to admit.
"Nothing is going to happen to me." He assured the Cardassian.
"No, it isn't," the other agreed with a smile.
It triggered warning bells in Bashir's mind, about three seconds too late. A strong hand grabbed his wrist and yanked hard, dragging him onto the bed. In a perfectly planned and executed action, the blanket was up, Bashir was dragged in and a hard arm came down over him, clamping off the cold air.
Almost instantly, the painful clenching and the muscle spasms slowed, easing off into the occasional tremor. The warmth started leeching into his hands and wrists.
Garak swiftly undid the heavy coat and pulled it open, his hands moved to rub at Bashir's upper arms and hands, encouraging circulation again.
With slow realisation, it dawned on the Human how close to hypothermia he might have actually been. Even his enhanced body would only take so much, and it was entirely possible that he hadn't felt anywhere near as bad as he actually was.
The feeling creeping back into his cheeks and nose was almost painful. Moving them to wince hurt even more.
Soft hands cupped his face and stayed there. Warmth always felt better when it come from a living creature and nothing had felt as softly warming as the tailor's hands at that moment.
That brought him up short. He was lying in a bunk, under the blankets, with Garak.
He would have blushed if he could have spared blood, but his body was too busy trying to keep itself warm to bother with his embarrassment.
Gently, more gently than he would have thought possible, he was pulled until his face was against the warmth of Garak's chest. He had tugged open his jacket enough for Bashir to bury his hands next to the heated body, eliciting a hiss from his companion.
"Sorry. They're a bit a cold."
"I noticed." There was a distinctly amused tone behind his voice as he said it. "But it would be a pity for a surgeon to lose any use of his hands; so for the good of the station it is my civil duty to save your hands from frost bite."
Bashir laughed and pushed a bit closer. He was far too cold to care about the embarrassment and it was a solution he should have thought of hours ago. Of course; several hours ago, both of them would have refused it as a viable option.
He noticed that his shivering had died down to the point that only the occasional tremor was running through him, barely a tremble to be honest.
He could feel a slow, steady thumping under his cheek. Garak's heartbeat was still slow, but it was not that likely to increase until he was somewhere warm. He might be stable, but his body seemed aware of the cold just scant inches away.
His hood was pulled back up, closing off the chill of the cold air. He wanted to curl up his legs, but he would have to knee Garak in the gut to do it, so he resisted the urge.
His feet were cold. Starfleet boots were sturdy and insulated and not equipped for this kind of cold.
"Garak?"
"Hm?" The Cardassian didn't look down, his eyes were half closed. Bashir could feel him shivering again, probably a shock reaction to having a freezing cold body invading his cocoon of warmth.
"Thank you."
"For what?" His voice was quiet.
"For making me wake up to what an ass I was being."
A moment of confusion showed before Garak managed to work out what Bashir actually meant. "No thanks is needed, Doctor."
"But I want to thank you." He closed his eyes; he could feel the warmth was inside now, not just a superficial warming. "How did you know I was in trouble before I did?"
"Aside from the fact that you were slurring your speech and seemed unaware of it?"
Bashir pulled back to gape. "I was not!" He managed to splutter indignantly.
"You indeed were," Garak assured him with a faint smirk. "Not badly, but there was a distinct slur in your speech when you spoke to me. The fact that you had become impaired enough not to notice was what spurred me to take action."
"In that case I really do owe you thanks," Bashir smiled slightly. "I could have... I might have gone to sleep without realising."
"Yes, you might of. And you would have died had I have not realised before it was too late." Garak paused and shifted slightly, sliding an arm under Bashir's neck like a pillow. "However, I was here, and I was awake, so it bears no further thought."
That was so Cardassian. Bashir didn't argue though, Garak was right. It could have been bad, but it had turned out all right.
"You're not, um, uncomfortable?" He ventured to ask.
"Not particularly." Garak shifted slightly. "Are you? I can move my arm."
Damn it. "No, not that kind of uncomfortable, Garak."
"Hm?" There was vague confusion in those blue eyes. "Ah, you mean am I disturbed by our proximity. It does not matter if I am, doctor. There is nowhere else for either of us to go."
"That's not an answer, Garak." Bashir looked up.
"No, I suppose to you it isn't." Garak smiled; in an almost fond manner; and tugged Bashir's hood further down. "You've used significant amounts of energy wasting time out there exercising and shivering and trying to stay warm."
"I suppose you know all about trying to stay warm," Bashir teased.
"Yes. Cold weather survival is an important part of being a Cardassian. As I was saying, you are tired. Even with your abilities, you've weakened yourself." His head was guided back to the broad chest. "Sleep it off, doctor. I will still be here when you wake."
The warmth was making him sleepy. "All right," he murmured. The hand cradling his head lingered for a few moments. Despite the vulnerability of the position, he felt safe with the Cardassian.
In an odd sense; he thought as he dozed off; he felt like a protected child.
0
He woke up being held in a loose grip, his hand lying against a broad rib cage and warm material.
Sleepily, he blinked, reaching to rub at his eyes, yawning slightly. There was a low chuckle from above, making him look up into amused blue eyes.
"Sleep well, doctor?"
He suffered from a moment of confusion before his brain decided to let him in on the last few hours. "Yes, very well. How long was I out?"
"Five hours or so." Garak set aside the padd he'd been reading and touched his fingers to Bashir's forehead. "You feel warm still."
"You too. Your hands are very warm." He let his eyes drift shut for a moment before opening them again. "How long have we been here?"
"The planet? Eighteen hours." Garak looked to the far wall. "It's been a week since we left Deep Space Nine."
"They must be looking for us by now." Bashir said. "We're overdue."
"I expect so," Garak said amicably. "Doctor, would you be good enough to get us some food?"
Bashir nodded and stretched, then slipped out from under the blankets, tugging his jacket closed again. It was frigid, but somehow more bearable, knowing he would crawl back into the warmth afterwards.
He detoured to the other room for the conveniences before he hurried to get their food. He came back with a tray with two plates of Ildarian roasted fish and hot tea.
Garak took the tray while Bashir crawled back into the bunk. They silently arranged themselves under the blankets; the Cardassian leant against the back wall while Bashir made himself comfortable against the 'headboard' wall.
They set the tray on their nearly touching knees. Garak ate slowly, but Bashir was too hungry to savour the food, eager to feel it warming him from the inside.
He finished and leant back, watching Garak eat his meal.
"It's interesting, that despite the fact that your species has the far superior higher brain function, you are more victims of your own physiology than many others."
It occurred to him; as he said it; that it was comments like those that made people think he was an arrogant jerk. But Garak just thought about it and nodded slightly. "Yes, I suppose so. Our bodies are not as adaptable as mammalian forms. Your bodies are weaker, less resilient to externals forces and lacking the same sophisticated smell and taste senses, yet in some ways you have strengths that Cardassians sorely lack." He gave Bashir a look. "Such as your tolerance to the cold."
"Not just the cold, Garak." Bashir was silent for a moment. "We can resist extreme temperatures for quite a period. We have more immunities than Cardassians and we can eat a far wider range of food to no ill effect, at least, not a physical one. Our sight and hearing is far keener than yours."
"What about touch?"
Bashir frowned. "I don't know. No one has ever had the opportunity to compare Cardassian and Human physiology. Most Cardassians are quite hostile about it."
"Hm. We do not like to be confronted with our short comings. No one does." Garak finished off his meal and tipped his head, fingers snapping the jacket's throat closed. His eyes half closed, he had apparently decided to finish that conversation for now.
Bashir took the tray and laid it on the floor. He'd take it out when he next went into the other room. "It's warmer in here than out there."
"I'd imagine so. That doesn't say much for this room though." Garak murmured.
"Lie back down, Garak." Bashir patted the space next to him. "Your face is gaining a distinctly white colour."
"Hm." The Cardassian seemed poised to argue but slid under the blanket obediently, disappearing completely from Bashir's sight.
He could feel the faintly trembling form against his legs. With a soft smile; shared with only the biting cold; he reached under the blanket and tugged his friend until he was curled up next to the Human's legs, the heat coming off providing a valuable source of warmth.
"Garak?"
There was a questioning noise that he could feel though his legs.
"Certain reptiles; when left to prolonged exposure to cold; end up falling ill, lethargic and eventually comatose even when they have access to a warm haven. The ambient air temperature and stress takes too high a toll on their bodies."
"Really? How fascinating." Garak's muffled voice said.
"My point, or rather my question is, are Cardassians like that?"
"Doctor, as you said, we are not reptiles. We are reptilian, but we do have some ability to warm ourselves."
"Okay." Bashir said. "Just checking." He tentatively stroked the nearest shoulder. "You all right in there?"
"Fine, doctor." There was a half stifled yawn. "Just a little weary."
"Sleep it off. I'll still be here, I promise."
"Doctor, where else would you be? Outside ice skating?" Obviously the cold made Cardassians irritable.
"Don't tempt me." Bashir quipped back.
When silence followed, the doctor wasn't sure if Garak had nothing more to say or if he'd managed to fall asleep again.
Either was equally possible.
0
Bashir read for a while, only vaguely aware of the warm weight leaning against his legs. He had been a little concerned that his friend might suffocate at first, but he seemed to be perfectly content, dozing away under the mound of blankets.
The cold was having bad effects on both of them. Bashir normally didn't sleep much, but now he was feeling tired and lethargic. He either needed more to eat or more sleep, and they needed to ration their supplies as much as possible.
He had some of the water from the pot before he slid down into the bunk further, adjusting his hood and the blankets until no cold air was getting in.
A hand gripped onto his leg, he jumped slightly, but it was followed by no other action. He smiled slightly and peeked under the blanket.
Garak was curled up, loose strands of black hair across his face. One hand was loosely holding Bashir's calf, probably an instinct to stop the heat source from moving away like it had threatened to.
He gently removed the hand from his leg, his hands lingering for just a moment. The Cardassian looked younger asleep, the perpetual smirk was gone and he looked almost peaceful.
Something had gone from his face, something less tangible, but Bashir couldn't put his finger on it at that moment.
He ordered the light turned off. It didn't use much energy but there was no point in leaving it on if he was planning on sleeping as well.
When he got back to DS9, he'd probably not sleep for a week.
He turned slightly, frowned as he realised his fingers had just been caught in a loose grip. Apparently his friend was trying to stop his pillow moving about so much.
There was no point untangling their fingers, he'd probably be grabbed by the knee again, and sooner or later Garak would hit his ticklish spot; which would be pleasant for no one involved. He burrowed down further and carefully moved his fingers so that they weren't being gripped, just slightly laced with the other's fingers.
The station might not have even realised they were missing yet. They'd been wildly off course when they crashed, and their communications array had been basically knocked out in the crash.
He tightened his grip slightly. They needed to be rescued within the next one hundred and forty four hours, or they'd been doing a recovery, rather than a rescue.
He pushed the thought from his mind and let himself drift off to sleep.
0
He woke up when he heard footsteps.
Sitting up, Bashir forced his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. He could see a figure moving through the doorway and closing it behind.
"Garak?"
Bright eyes, even in this light, turned to look at him. "I'm sorry, doctor, I didn't mean to disturb you."
"What are you doing?" He pawed his eyes, trying to make them focus properly. It was like trying to see in the haze of predawn on Earth.
"I was checking a connection in the cockpit." He fancied he could hear the Cardassian's teeth chattering from here.
"You should have woken me up and let me do it." Bashir protested. "You're not equipped to deal with the temperatures."
"And you were asleep. You did not stir when I got up, so you were deeply asleep. If you had stirred, I would have invited you to do it. You obviously needed the rest." He came back to the bunk and looked down expectantly.
Bashir slid over, making room for his friend. "I guess so." He didn't watch Garak climb in and drag the blankets around his body tighter. "I'm just; I can't do anything but worry."
"Certainly you can, good doctor." Garak smiled slightly and tilted his head, then frowned as a strand of hair fell over his face. He reached into his hood to tuck it behind his ear.
"What?"
"Hm?" The Cardassian looked confused for a moment.
"What can I do?" Bashir asked, exasperated.
"You can get us something to eat. I had no intention on staying out there long enough to get breakfast. Since you're awake, it seems only appropriate you do it. I checked the connections."
He was incorrigible.
0
They ate in silence. Even the normally chatty Cardassian had run out pointless chit chat for the moment. The food was hot and filling, which was really one of the only concerns that Bashir had right now.
Almost subconsciously, Bashir kept his lowered gaze monitoring his friend, watching for signs of ill health. Despite the silence and slightly pale skin, Garak seemed to be as healthy as would be expected, his eyes were bright and focused and his hands were steady.
Mind you; Bashir reminded himself; this was a man who managed a semblance of health whilst dying from his neural implant addiction.
"Doctor, why the long face?"
The sudden voice surprised the Human, he nearly dropped his fork straight into his dinner. "Long face?"
"That is the correct term? Long face as a metaphor for a saddened or depressed expression conveying some form of internal misery?"
He smiled despite himself. "No, I mean, yes, that's the right use for the term, but I'm not sad or depressed. I'm a little worried, that's all."
"Your expression indicated far more than just concern. You looked..." Garak hummed for a moment, almost visibly picking over his vocabulary for the exact term. "You looked scared."
Bashir shrugged uncomfortably. "I was just thinking on some things that have happened."
"You're obfuscating."
"Maybe. But it was the truth." Bashir rubbed his hands together, trying to generate a little more warmth. "I was thinking, well if you must know, I was thinking about what happened with your implant."
Immediately, a look of disinterest came over Garak's face. "Oh, that. Well, there's no use dwelling on matters such as that. It ended, no lingering repercussions." He smiled that slightly simpering smile that indicate no small measure of contempt for the topic.
"No, I wasn't thinking about any... never mind." He shook his head. "I know you don't like that topic."
Garak sunk into his jacket, looking mollified.
"Garak, you would tell me if your condition started to deteriorate, right?"
He got a raised eye ridge in response.
"I'm serious, Garak. I don't want your odd sense of Cardassian pride losing me a good friend. That's nearly happened once." He reached over on impulse and took the Cardassian's hands in his own. "If you got sick, I'd kick myself for not realising sooner. I don't want to be left alone in this craft."
It was the best shot he had for weaselling a promise to confess from his friend. If he made himself the weaker party, made Garak's small physical weakness seem like less than his own emotional need, the other man might give in.
Garak watched him for a moment. He could see him calculating, trying to gauge the best response. "All right, doctor. I will not allow any illness to go unmentioned to you."
He smiled. "Thank you, Garak."
"Have you finished, doctor?"
He looked to his plate. He thought he'd eaten more than that. "Um, no, but it's all right." He moved the tray. "I can finish here if you want to sleep more."
"I am not tired, doctor. I have slept far too much over the last day." He shifted. "I am simply... unaccustomed to being unoccupied."
"You're bored? Why didn't you just say something?" Bashir smiled.
"I am not bored. Cardassians do not get 'bored'."
"Oh, right. Naturally." He settled down further. "Electronic chess?"
"You must be joking."
"Fine. Jah Mekh?"
"I am not playing any games against your, doctor." He indicated his hands, buried under the blankets. "I like warm fingers."
"Fine, fine." There was a moment's silence. "Tell me another story then."
"More stories?" He sighed. "Very well, dear doctor, if it will keep you from fidgeting. What do you want to hear about?"
"Tell me about Cardassia Prime. Not the cities, the outlying areas, the wild life."
"Hm. Well, there is only some undeveloped lands left on Cardassia Prime, enough to provide training grounds for the military and other such organisations. When I was young, little more than a child, my class was sent on a camping trip out there." He fell silent for a few moments.
Bashir waited. Trying to prompt Garak now would probably just annoy him.
"I was to start formal training in a few years. We were sent out, given a few cutting tools and told to find a way to survive and make it back."
"You're pulling my leg. Not even the Klingons would abandon their children with nothing more than a cutting tool."
"But they do, for rights of passage. You may consider this tale the story of my right of passage, if you wish." Garak smiled pleasantly. "There were twenty five of us. We were each given the same tools. We were left three days out from the nearest city. We had to find our ways back to our school.
"It is a competition. Four of the students set up a command, and drew the rest under the their wing. They planned as a unit and utilised the combined tools. They planned how to get themselves back, bringing the others back with them as necessary.
"Two students set out alone. They agreed to travel as far as needed together, then split up when they reached the city. They figured that their best chance was to work together to gather food and keep watches at night.
"They were being hunted, you see. By the other students. The loners were a threat to the unity of the class.
"Together, they travelled for five days, hiding and stalking their way to the city limits. They breached the city limits and split up.
"One; however; understood far better the danger of the united team. He followed his companion, then sabotaged his attempt to sneak onto a shuttle. Not enough to stop his flight, merely long enough that the team would find evidence of his travel and follow in his footsteps.
"That one lone student made it back, just ahead of the group, but behind his saboteur."
"And which were you, Elim Garak?" Bashir leant forwards with a slightly teasing smile. "The saboteur or the victim?"
If Garak was surprised at hearing his name, he didn't show it. "Victim? Only of his own foolhardiness. He should have suspected his friend."
"So which were you?" Bashir persisted.
"I never said I was either," Garak smirked. "How do you know I was not one of the four who forced the other into service, nor indeed one of the followers?"
"You're not a follower." Bashir promptly replied. "And I don't think you would ever rely on others to do a job. You're too cynical. I would imagine you were as a cynical child as you are an adult."
Garak smiled slightly and shrugged. "As you wish, dear doctor."
"Therefore, you were one of the two loners. I just don't know which. I like to think you were the one who was betrayed, but I rather suspect you were the one who betrayed him, in order to succeed." He leant in. "So, am I right?"
Garak leant close, his lips slightly parted. Bashir's breath caught for a second as the Cardassian brushed past him to whisper in his ear, the scales around his eyes almost touching Bashir's cheek as he moved.
"What's to say it ever happened, dear Julian?"
to be continued...