Garak could sense holes being burned into the back of their heads as the pair of them waited for the turbolift. He was more than ready to have this unpleasantness resolved as quickly as possible. It didn't feel natural to be stood out in the open while danger lurked somewhere behind them, and he instinctively wanted to place himself between Bashir and the Orion. He was all too aware that his hide was studier and his blood less valuable than the good Doctor's. Only intense restraint kept him in place.
Garak took comfort in the fact that he still had his knife to hand and was primed to jump into action at a moments notice. Not that he outwardly gave that impression. To the untrained eye, he was the picture of aloofness as though the Orion wasn't worth his time. Bashir was also visibly less distressed, which was a relief. His heartrate was still elevated but had slowed considerably. Garak wouldn't bring his spirits down by stating the obvious; that they weren't out of the woods yet. The need for at least one of them to remain on high alert was imperative, even more so as the unsavoury man was currently out of their line of sight.
Unfortunately, Garak was discovering that with Bashir on his arm, it was a struggle to keep his attention focused on their sizeable adversary. Standing close enough to the Doctor to feel his mammalian warmth was almost too much for him to bear. The young man was obliviously unaware of his growing affections for him. The Cardassian manner of expressing sexual interest through disagreement had repeatedly gone over his head. It was best for all involved that things remain that way, he hardly wanted to admit that he'd been so publicly obvious with his one-sided desires. After today's slip, Garak was going to have to work to re-establish the boundaries of his carefully distanced friendship with Bashir. For now, though, he allowed himself to enjoy their fleeting physicality. He was a weak and sentimental old fool at times.
As the doors opened, Julian shot Garak an impish grin and eagerly led him into the lift. They stood side by side, both giving off the appearance of nonchalantly waiting for the doors to close. Julian, feeling inspired, wanted to see their dramatic performance out with a bang. He stepped in front of Garak, effectively blocking him from view. Looking into the Cardassian's perplexed but trusting blue eyes, Julian brought his hands up to gently caress Garak's face and nuzzled his nose towards his so they were practically sharing the same breath. As he heard the tell-tale click of the door mechanism, he pressed himself closer and moved in to bring their lips together.
Garak's eyes widened at the unexpected gesture, surely this was taking their little subterfuge a bit too far? He didn't trust himself to respond appropriately and stilled his movements as he catalogued every nuance of Doctor's approach. Bashir stopped himself millimetres before he made contact and finally let out a soft breathy chuckle. The sensation of warm air across his sensitive scales was sublime and he greedily inhaled the Doctor's rich scent. It took Garak far longer than it should to notice that the turbolift door was shut at last and that they were both safely away from prying eyes.
As Garak leaned back and quirked a brow, Julian pulled away from him sheepishly and ducked his head. "I'm sorry, Garak. I wanted to see it through and leave him in no doubt as to who my heart belongs to."
Garak tilted his head in consideration. Oh, if only the good Doctor meant what he'd said. It was laughable that he still clung to the hope that one day he would be seen in such a way or that he would be trusted to look after something so precious. Bashir had long ago been the sole keeper of what remained of his own broken and damaged heart, if it could still be called that. The young man had chipped away at his inner walls little by little over the duration of their acquaintance, unwittingly carving out quite a niche for himself. Garak had been unable to remove or ignore the gaping hole that had been left behind.
After a beat, Julian continued to fill the growing silence. "Are you alright by the way? I didn't stop to think before I crowded you and got all up in your space. Hardly a fitting way to repay what you just did for me... Does your Claustrophobia normally cause you problems with the lifts? I'm sure I've seen you use them in the past and have even taken them with you if I'm not mistaken. I hope, at least, that I haven't made you uneasy or the situation any worse? And I'm sure talking about it now isn't helping… So, I'm sorry for that too."
The Doctor had started to look concerned and Garak recognised that it was because he hadn't yet responded. Clearing his throat in embarrassment, he moved to soothe Bashir's fears. "I am fine. Don't trouble yourself, Doctor. It is a rare day when I struggle to get in the turbolifts. Most of the time I don't allow myself to think about it which seems to do the trick. Although, I will admit that I am never truly comfortable when confined within them."
Julian nodded, glad that Garak had been so honest with him. He'd been expecting either a rebuttal for his nonsensical ramblings or some sort of distraction technique from his usually closed-off friend. Their mutual understanding had increased following the events within the Dominion prison camp and his own genetic revelation, each lightened by one less secret, but there was still a noticeable barrier between them. A chasm of Garak's making that Julian wasn't sure how to approach, let alone cross. If felt like whatever Julian did, they'd take one step forward and then three steps back.
Still, Julian had enjoyed playing along with Garak's ruse. Probably more than he should have. He'd had a soft spot for the Tailor for as long as they'd known each other. But despite growing closer, he had never taken it in that direction (much to his chagrin) and neither had Garak.
Julian's long days in forced isolation had been spent primarily thinking of Garak and reliving their many conversations, the memories of which had gotten him through the whole tortuous ordeal. Garak's clever words had kept him sane and given him something to hold onto. Not that he had told him that when they reunited. Garak had enough to deal with and he deserved to be happy, Julian hadn't wanted to spoil whatever was happening with Ziyal by selfishly complicating things and he'd rightly kept his thoughts and feelings to himself.
Then, following the unfortunate death of the young woman, Julian was careful not to intrude on Garak's grief. The idea of doing so had seemed inappropriate, whichever way he looked at it. Plus, it was all immaterial anyway, the Cardassian had never shown an interest in him in any sort of romantic way. Garak's actions today just reinforced how good a friend he was, and Julian knew he was lucky to have him.
As they stepped out into the habitat ring, Garak paused momentarily before presenting the crook of his arm to his companion. "My Dear, shall I see you back to your quarters? I don't want to risk you getting pursued by any more enthusiastic suitors should you travel there unaccompanied."
Julian burst out laughing. He knew Garak had enjoyed all the Jane Austen novels that he'd persuaded him to read, even though he'd never openly admitted it. Garak sounded every bit the regency gentleman. Which, he supposed, made him the long-suffering heroine. Julian had to restrain himself from dropping into a curtsy and instead curled his fingers under Garak's arm. "I would be delighted, my dear Mister Garak. Lead on, I know that you already know the way."
Garak smirked and acquiesced. He told himself that this was just a safety precaution, but who was he kidding? Apparently, he would take any excuse, even the flimsiest, to continue their happy little charade for a while longer.
They came all too soon to Bashir's residence and Garak prepared himself to head home, unlinking their arms and gracing the good Doctor with a genuine smile. "I trust that you will be safe from here?"
Julian looked into Garak's unusually open expression and made an impulsive decision. "Actually, Garak. Would you care to come in for a moment? I know it's late. But this shouldn't take long."
Garak was taken aback at the request but hid his confusion as quickly as it had appeared. "No problem, Doctor. Do you want me to do a quick sweep for anything malicious? I can check for any listening devices and the like?"
Julian frowned at the thought. "No, that isn't necessary. Although, I have to admit that you have me intrigued. Do you regularly sweep your own quarters for surveillance equipment?"
Garak nodded, he had more reason than most to believe he was being kept an eye on. "You would be surprised at the lengths Odo has gone to in the past to track my movements. I can only assume that he enjoys it on some level, it has become something of a game between us. I suppose, he appreciates my vigilance and thoroughness as much as he likes putting the devices back up in more creative places. Even now that I consider the Constable a friend, every 3rd Wednesday I know there will be a new bug to hunt down and dispose of. The devices appear without fail, like clockwork. We've never actually discussed it either. Oddly, the topic has never come up over breakfast."
Julian smiled to himself, glad that they had both reached a level of tolerant appreciation. Despite being cordial with everyone, Garak didn't seem to have that many people to socialise with. Odo, too, was an unusual soul. His closest relationship was his ongoing feud with Quark. Anyone with eyes could tell that beneath the bluster and protests, the pair of them genuinely cared about each other. Julian had always been curious if their bond could deepen, having seen clear similarities between their interactions and the friendly bickering that he shared with Garak.
As Julian gave his entry code he wondered, and not for the first time, just how Garak had managed to break into his quarters before they travelled to Bajor. Ruefully, he had to admit that even if he asked, he wouldn't trust Garak not to make something up. The man was insufferable at times, regularly delighting in getting one over on him and making him feel stupid. That didn't happen to Julian very often and it was refreshing to be able to indulge in an actual battle of wits. He inevitably had to hold himself back with everyone else. Arguing with the Cardassian had become one of his favourite activities and even when tempers flared, he always walked away with a smile on his face and was sure that Garak did too.
Garak followed Bashir into his quarters, giving them a cursory glance. The space was pretty standard, it didn't look as if the Doctor had personalised the rooms any more than the last time he'd visited. His companion seemed to read his mind because he immediately sighed and commented on the sparseness himself.
Julian unconsciously wrapped his arms around himself. "After the Changeling had been living here, I was glad when I got back that I'd not had anything overly personal for it to interfere with. I cleared everything out that remained and it was all easily replicated. I was more upset that it had free access to my patients, and I shudder to think of the repercussions had I been seeing anyone. Thankfully, me and Leeta were long done by that point, and she ended up keeping Kukalaka out of harm's way too."
Garak watched where the Doctor's gaze had lingered and his attention was drawn to a rather scraggly looking children's toy up on the top shelf, one of the few customised areas in the living room. Bashir was a strange human, endearingly so. He didn't know many people who would so openly display a relic from childhood that, he assumed, was still required and utilised as a source of comfort.
Garak found himself, once again, feeling guilty about not spotting and eliminating the Changeling imposter. He wasn't alone in his failure, but he had known something was off and hadn't acted upon it. The fake-Bashir had essentially stopped meeting with him and, when it did, it lacked all the spark and vitality that he had come to expect from the Doctor. Garak had assumed that Bashir's interest in him had finally waned, as it was always going to, and he had allowed the man to go on his way. As soul crushing as the decision had been, he'd long since accepted that he wasn't worthy of the Doctor's attentions and could hardly expect him to put up with his nonsense indefinitely. Garak had kept his head up, thrown himself into his work, distracted himself with mentoring Ziyal, and had licked his wounds in private. Once the truth of the matter had been revealed, he was devastated to discover just how long the real Doctor had been imprisoned.
Garak wanted to reassure Bashir and attempted to point out the positives in his situation. "Starting again with a blank canvas is no bad thing, you are free to decorate these quarters as you see fit. It would probably be beneficial for you to really mark them as your own and reclaim the space. Take it from somebody who has moved around a lot in his life, decorating can be quite therapeutic and can help to make you feel truly settled in a place. Plus, you've always shown rather… exuberant and original taste in apparel, would you not want to reflect that lavish joyousness in your surroundings?"
Julian appreciated Garak's words and nodded. The jibe about his clothes was expected. Although, Garak had never painted them in a positive light before, that was new. Despite the half compliment, he knew that he could really do with some creative input. Perhaps Garak would be interested in offering his expertise? The thought of them decorating together made him smile and reminded him of why they were in his rooms in the first place. As Julian realised that he was going to have to explain himself, he was quickly filled with an abundance of restless energy.
Julian started to shake off his jacket, suddenly nervous. He needed something to do with his hands and took the time to hang it up properly. Heaven forbid he ruffle the Tailor's feathers by throwing the garment over his sofa or dropping it in a heap on the floor. As he turned, Garak was watching him curiously. He was presumably waiting for an explanation for why he hadn't been allowed to go straight home.
Garak could read Bashir's tension from here. What was wrong now? He looked like he was going to expel the contents of his stomach. His companion's normal golden skin had taken on a pale and sickly hue. Had he been injured in some way during the scuffle with the Orion? Garak's blood boiled at the thought of those green hands pawing at the Doctor, the man would not leave the station in one piece if that was the case. Despite the all-encompassing need to start inflicting some of his own personal brand of pain and punishment, his concern for the Doctor kept him where he was.
Julian pulled himself together and ploughed ahead, verbalising a thought that had been on his mind for some time. "Garak, would you like… That is, would do me the honour of joining me for dinner tomorrow?"
Garak raised a ridge, incredulous. "You wish to continue our act through to tomorrow evening? Or as long as the irritating Orion is monitoring us?"
Julian hurriedly crossed the room and took both of Garak's hands in his own. He stared imploringly into the eyes of his dearest friend, needing him to understand. "No, that's not it at all! I've wanted to spend time with you outside of our normal lunch hour for longer than I would care to say, but I haven't wanted to push. Especially with everything that happened between you and Ziyal… I understand completely if now isn't the right time for you. Or, if you aren't interested in me in that capacity. God, I'm such an arse. I should have led with that. Bloody hell, I get one unwanted proposition and now I'm suddenly irresistible to every man on the station? You are dragged into the mess to save my neck, putting yourself in the uncomfortable position of having to play the part of my devoted partner, and I read that as a thumbs up that you are attracted to me?! You were right when you called me smug. Apparently, my head has grown even more since that day! Garak, you can just go. You don't have to justify any of this with an answer or a response. In fact, it's probably best that you don't… Please, my friend, I can't seem to stop humiliating myself and would hate to lose what remaining respect you still have for me."
Garak was staring open mouthed at the incomprehensible hole the Doctor was digging for himself. The young man had stumbled backwards away from him and now appeared to be in a genuine state of panic. Little did he know, that in actual fact, it was him who was frantically panicking. Bashir wanted to take him out on a dinner date? Did this mean what he thought it meant? Why was he talking about Ziyal? Had he thought that they were romantically involved? What an absurd notion. He was old enough to be her father.
While Garak tried to make sense of the overwhelming rush of hopeful emotions that were bubbling to the surface, he had followed the Doctor as he started to weave through his quarters. Moving completely on autopilot, he was led back around and guided towards the front door.
Garak somehow found himself standing alone in the corridor with only his thoughts for company. Had he uttered anything coherent since Bashir's proclamation? Casting his mind back, he didn't think so. He'd just stood there staring blankly ahead, rendered utterly useless. He hadn't offered the Doctor any reassurance of his own feelings, or even acknowledged that he'd heard and understood the importance of what had been said. Shaking his head, he decided that this wouldn't do. No, this would not do at all. Garak reactivated the door chime, glad that he had at least retained enough awareness not to have blindly wandered all the way to his quarters.
The door opened to reveal a worried looking Julian, biting his lip. "Garak, I… I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me… Please forgi-"
Garak stepped forward, ignoring the babble that was currently spewing forth from the good Doctor. Smiling gently, he reached for Bashir and cupped his beautiful face in his hands. The man was such a worrier, the desperate concern evident in his eyes was entirely unwarranted. Garak leaned in and drew the Doctor closer. He mapped the contours of Bashir's delicate features and pressed a finger to his lips, cutting him off completely. Resisting the urge to embrace the young man, Garak reached for his wrist instead and pressed a soft but longing kiss to the skin on the back of his hand.
Garak pulled back from Bashir and dropped his hand, not before giving it a squeeze as he retreated. He was pleased with himself; he had seemingly shocked the young man and left him completely speechless. As he walked away, hiding a broad smile, he called back to his still-static companion. "Until tomorrow night, then, my dearest Doctor."
