Julian walked into Quark's with every fibre of his being on high alert.
Following his meeting that morning with his parents and Captain Sisko, Julian was facing a different future from what he'd hoped.
He'd spent years doing whatever he could to cover up who and what he truly was, and now that hard work, and the emotional toll of it all had been for naught.
Thankfully Captain Sisko had been very sympathetic and understanding about everything and assured him that he would tell no-one else about what had happened without Julian's express consent, all while warning Julian that tongues would still wag and he'd need to be prepared to deal with difficult and prying questions should the truth get out to the wider public.
So Julian was now resigned to living with an open secret, instead of a secret.
There would be no big Federation News Network headline saying "Augment Allowed to Keep Starfleet Commission and Medical License", at least not yet, but it all could still come out at any time. Any visiting Admiral might just slip in an insensitive comment during a staff meeting that would essentially out him to those he was closest to. And if Quark or anyone like him ever found out without knowing all the facts, he dreaded to think about what could happen.
He half-expected the Ferengi to have found out by now, but instead he walked into the bar and everything was decidedly normal.
Julian wouldn't let himself relax though, not yet, and he kept looking around, certain he'd find someone staring at him.
"You're looking a little bit tense Doctor," Quark said, "and perhaps a little bit depressed as well."
"Quark, I-"
The barkeep held up hand, "You don't have to explain doctor, I get it. But I've got just the drink for you – a New Orleans Fizz – Nog told me about it. Turns out Earth has all sorts of cocktails I've never heard of. I think they'll be popular with the Starfleet Personnel, and I'm sure you'll like this one, so please give me your opinion. It'll take your mind off everything."
Oh if only a drink could do that.
"Sorry Quark, I'd just like my usual please."
"Not even a sip?"
Julian shook his head, "Just a pint, thanks."
Quark sighed as he went to fetch a drink from the replicator. "I get it…the more things change, the more you want them to stay the same…So a pint it is then. Doubt it'll cheer you up though."
Julian gave Quark a grin that belied his irritation, "perhaps I'd just like to keep hydrated."
Quark put the glass down a little heavier than normal, his eyes never leaving Julian's.
"So…how are you coping with this week's news?"
He knows.
"News?"
"Must be difficult, and so soon after your incarceration at the hands of the Dominion."
Julian sighed at the casual mention of his time in Interment Camp 371 and nodded his head, "Okay you got me. It's been a tough couple of months, and the events of the last few days was just about the last thing I needed."
"And that sanctimonious smug Zimmerman fellow being the catalyst for it all…You'll be glad he's off the station."
"Oh yes," Julian could not disagree with Quark on that.
"But you know, this could be good for you," Quark smiled.
"I fail to see how…"
"Well new horizons and all. Clarity. New Perspectives. A chance to regain a little dignity maybe?"
Julian was about to take a drink from his pint when he stopped, "My dignity? Quark do you hear yourself? Do you have any idea how insulting that is to me?"
Quark held both hands up, "I mean…My idiot brother Rom was your love rival and he won. Rom won. Not you, and this all happened while your parents were visiting, I mean talk about embarrassing! But with Rom and Leeta together now, maybe you can try again to find your perfect woman."
Julian suddenly stopped, his anger dissipating into confusion.
"Wait – Rom and Leeta are…"
"Together, yes. Wait – what did you think I was talking abo-"
"-Nothing! Nothing else."
"But you didn't know about Rom and Leeta?"
Julian shook his head, "I mean I knew that Leeta was in love with him but I didn't know they were an item."
Quark grimaced, "I still can't believe you didn't manage to win her back. I mean she told you her intentions, or did you just think she'd see sense and come back to you?"
"No…Nothing of the sort. Leeta and I parted as friends and I'm genuinely happy for her."
"Okay," Quark gave him a look of bemusement, clearly not believing him, "So why the long face then?"
"Oh…it's just uh," he tried to think of a plausible explanation.
Quark chuckled a little and pointed a finger, "Ah, I get it now. You're missing your parents!"
To anyone else that would make sense, so Julian stifled a grimace and nodded in concedence.
"And here after all these years and even this week I got the distinct impression you didn't like them all that much!"
"Well…families are complex," Julian added vaguely, and began looking for a way to change the conversation.
His knight in shining armour arrived in the form of Miles.
"Miles!" Julian waved over to him.
"Julian! Wasn't expecting you in here this evening! I'll have what Julian's drinking, Quark," Miles said as he claimed the stool adjacent to Julian's.
Quark rolled his eyes, "at least you're not drinking Root Beer I suppose. Can't tempt you with a New Orleans Fizz?"
Miles screwed up his face, "Ugh, no. It's got egg white in it."
"But I think that's why it's so nice!" Quark defended, "And here I am trying to give you boys a taste of home and you throw it back in my face!"
"It's a taste of Captain Sisko's home, not ours!" Julian pointed it.
"New Orleans, Ireland, England…Same difference!"
"Don't ever say that while you're on Earth Quark, especially not about the last two!" Miles said in amusement.
"Most definitely not!" Julian occurred.
"Okay then…what's a taste of home for both of you?"
At that remark both men pointed to their pints, before leaning over and pointing at the bottle of Scotch Quark kept hidden behind the bar.
"How adventurous – not. And the Scotch isn't Irish or English so-"
"Close enough!" the chimed together before sharing a chuckle.
"I would say however that there's a great shot I had at the Starfleet Medical St. Patrick's Day party one year. It's called an Irish flag – Crème de menthe, then Irish cream liquer and finally Grand Marnier liquer. The drinks don't mix so the shot ends up looking just like the Irish flag!"
Miles screwed up his face, "Starfleet Medical has an annual St. Patrick's Day party?"
"Yes, everyone goes to Chicago for it."
"But not actually to Ireland itself, " the Irishman rolled his eyes and sighed into his pint.
"St. Patrick's Day?" Quark asked.
"It's a day dedicated to Ireland's Patron Saint," Miles advised.
"Patron Saint?"
"It's kind of morphed into a day to celebrate everything Irish," Julian added.
"Only if everything Irish is a leprechaun drinking Guiness," Miles mumbled.
"Leprechaun? Guiness?"
Julian reached behind the bar to retrieve his and Miles' darts. This seemed to cheer Miles up as he jumped up eagerly from his stool.
"Well Guiness might go down well here," Julian advised Quark as he stood to leave the bar, "Guiness is the quintessential Irish drink, a very popular stout. As for leprechauns well…I'm pretty sure Miles' ancestors were leprechauns."
"You cheeky bugger!" Miles shouted as Julian giggled and headed over to the dart board.
Quark rolled his eyes and walked away to serve another customer, "Crazy humons."
"My ancestors are leprechauns? You couldn't think of something more original than that?" Miles grumbled as he initiated the dart board.
Julian chuckled aloud, "My bad! Want to go first?"
Miles soon had the first game in hand and they talked about nothing of consequence, conscious of prying lobes. Eventually though a visiting Loretsian freighter Captain began a winning streak on the Dabo table, encouraging others to join in or crowd around to watch. With Quark distracted, Miles didn't hesitate to change the subject to the week's events.
"I heard from Captain Sisko that your parents left ahead of schedule."
"You could say that."
Miles nodded, seemingly having difficulty figuring out his next question.
"I also heard you're staying put here on DS9…and you're still wearing your uniform."
"An astute observation Chief," Julian gave Miles a small but knowing smile.
"Good."
"My parents struck a plea bargain with the JAG," Julian said quietly just as Miles lined up his next shot.
Miles stopped for a second before launching the dart and scoring 36.
"A plea bargain…" he said quietly, not throwing his second dart.
"He gets 2 years… and I get to keep my life," Julian said equally as quietly, unable to keep the sadness he felt from seeping into the statement.
"Your dad?"
Julian nodded wordlessly.
"I see… I'm sorry."
"So am I."
Miles lined up his next dart and scored 42.
"Where will he…y'know, be sent?"
"New Zealand. Minimum security. I'll be going to visit him as soon as I can. Might even look up some of the family now the truth is out in the open. We've been estranged from both sides ever since I was 6. I have a younger cousin who's an Ensign now as far as I know, though we've never met. I don't want her to hear about this through the grapevine for obvious reasons."
"Makes sense," Miles concurred before throwing his final dart and scoring 60. He quickly gave Julian his happiest, smuggest look.
"So that's 138. Let's see if I can do better," Julian remarked sarcastically.
Julian's first dart hit 60, but his second and third only hit 5 and 12, "This calls for more beer," he remarked holding his empty glass up in the direction of the bar.
Seconds later two fresh pints were delivered.
Miles had won their game and they were on to their third by the time he brought up current events again.
"So… What was the JAG's explanation for giving your dad 2 years?"
"Basically, just because I'm not a megalomaniacal dictator doesn't mean others like me won't try to become the next Khan."
"They actually invoked Khan's name?" Miles said as he hit 40.
"Yes," Julian confirmed, unable to hide his disgust.
"It can't be good to hear that. I mean the man's up there with the likes of Hitler."
"You're telling me!" the weariness slipped into Julian's voice.
Miles scored 40 again.
"I mean talk about your unfair stereotype."
"Hmm."
Julian didn't disagree with the JAG's mention of Khan even if the comparison did hurt. After all there had been so few augments and a far above average proportion of them had been just as bad or even worse than Khan.
"'Superior ability breeds superior ambition', or so the saying goes," Julian mused.
"Not for you though surely?"
"Don't worry, I'm very happy right where I am Miles."
"Glad to hear it," Miles said and threw his final dart, just missing 60 and hitting 20 instead.
"Dammit," he grumbled.
The two continued playing and Julian continued to 'lose'. If Julian was honest he was very glad Miles hadn't put two and two together yet about his hand-eye co-ordination and their regular games.
Miles almost threw one game away when Rom and Leeta arrived and he found out they were now a couple.
"Rom and Leeta…Got to be the oddest couple on the station."
"I concur, but so long as they're happy I guess."
Miles hit 5 and grimaced, "Think the only odder couples I can imagine would be Morn and Jadzia-"
"No…if she and Worf ever split up I could actually imagine that happening."
"Fair point," Miles hit 60 and clenched his fist in celebration, "Yes!"
"Other odd couples…hmm…What about Kira and Odo?"
"That'll never happen," Miles said as he scored 25 before adding, "Quark and Odo?"
"I think you've truly found the station's odd couple there Chief!"
Julian soon set up a throw, but as he did someone loudly declared "dabo!", leading him to score 10. He followed this up with a 7 and a 28.
"Not my day."
"Not your week," Miles corrected.
Julian retrieved his darts before deciding to turn their conversation back to what had happened.
"You know what, Chief? I never got a chance to thank you for what you said when-"
"Uh – none of that. Especially not in the middle of a game," he quickly threw his darts, scoring 20, 4 and 13. Not a big score, but enough to win. "Oh yes!"
Miles quickly moved to the board to retrieve his darts, only to pause for a moment. He then turned back to Julian with the darts in his hand.
"Wait a minute. You haven't been letting me win, have you?"
Oh, rumbled.
But of course it was Julian's own fault for reminding Miles of their conversation.
"What makes you think that?" he remarked as he threw.
"You said your hand-eye coordination had been genetically enhanced."
Julian realised the game was up, "Well, maybe I have been letting you win, a little bit."
He retrieved his darts as Miles showed some annoyance at this revelation.
"I don't believe it. I don't need you to patronise me. I can play at your level."
"I never said you couldn't," Julian replied.
"Well play then," Miles insisted while wagging a finger at him, "Really play!"
It was rare that Julian got a chance to show how good he was at anything outside of medicine. He'd endured a life of holding back and concealing things. Now with the opportunity to do something even as small as a round of darts without holding back, it took him all his time not to smile as he took his turn. He hit three bullseyes in quick succession and kept his eyes trained on the board when he was done, aware of the fact that Miles was all but gawping at him. Miles moved up to the dartboard as if to forensically examine the darts and where they'd landed. Julian couldn't keep his amusement off his face any longer, enjoying the rare opportunity to show off.
Miles removed Julian's darts in annoyance and as he handed them back to Julian he decided to march him to a spot double the distance from the board.
"Alright. From now on you play from over here. I play from up here. And if that doesn't work, we'll try a blindfold."
Julian could live with this he realised as he watched Miles continue their impromptu darts night. Many other people wouldn't have been so generous if they realised they'd been played for years.
"You might have natural talent,"
"-Unnatural-"
"-But I've got years of experience on you."
"Many years…" Julian added as Miles finished his turn.
"Oi, what is this? Roast Miles Night?"
Julian chuckled and hit another bullseye, "Well, you can only get away with roasting a true friend, and only a true friend would continue to play darts with me."
"True… But it's not like you had much of a choice but to keep certain things from us."
Julian purposefully missed the bullseye and hit a nine instead, prompting a small chuckle from Miles.
"It'll be good to have someone I can be myself around for once," he threw again, allowing himself another bullseye.
"I wonder…" Miles began, "I wonder just how many bullseyes you can do in a row."
"A few I guess, but where's the fun in that? I usually play by picking a number in my head and seeing if I can get close to it."
"Well, why don't you humour me and tell me and we'll see how many you can throw? I've won tonight anyway."
"Well, if you insist, but I've done this before and I got to one hundred before I got bored."
"A hundred?!" Miles was shocked.
Julian nodded.
Miles sighed.
"Are there any games you're not good at?"
"Dominoes."
"Dominoes?"
"Dominoes."
"Why dominoes?"
"I find it so simple that I don't see how my so-called "gifts"," he air-quoted, "could make any difference."
Miles scowled a little, "Lets just stick to darts shall we?"
"Agreed! Fresh game?"
"Sure."
Soon they were back in a rhythm with Julian picking scores out of thin air and Miles doing his best. But Julian liked this just fine. For him it had never been about winning, it had instead been about just enjoying spending time with his best friend. He was happy to let Miles remain the competitive one, even if they both knew the game was essentially rigged.
"I'll tell you what though Julian, you'll need to come round and play Monopoly with Keiko."
"Really?"
"Yeah…She always wins when we play, so losing will drive her mad!"
"Sounds like a dangerous plan. Count me in!"