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Dr. Julian Bashir felt a yawn rising up in him, and soon it had overtaken his whole body. He put down the PADD he had been working on and wiped his face with both hands. He sat in his quarters, swathed in his blue pajamas, fighting with himself over whether he would finish his work before going to bed or not.
It had been a long day. He had been abducted into some bizarre game by some aliens from the gamma quadrant. It had been a rousing adventure, to be sure, but it had eaten up most of his day, and he was behind on all of his work. He still had patient reports, requisition forms, a request for leave to attend the medical conference on Vulcan, and on top of that, he needed to organize his notes for his own research. He had some ideas about biomolecular replication that seemed promising, though it was too soon to tell whether it would go anywhere. Deep Space 9 was often the adventure that he had hoped for, but adventure didn’t let him put off his daily work. He was a doctor, after all. His work didn’t stop just because the timing was inconvenient for him.
Julian yawned again, stretching his arms wide. Sleep had won the battle. There never seemed to be enough time, even with 26 hours in a day. He would get up early to finish up the reports, at least. Despite himself, he chuckled. It had been an exciting day. A bit touch and go at times, certainly, but a real fight for his life, the sort of thing you didn’t get in more prestigious postings.
Well, not a real fight for my life, he admitted to himself. Still, the fact that they hadn’t been in any actual danger didn’t mean much, did it? He thought they were in danger at the time, and he thought he’d acquitted himself quite well.The young doctor lay down in bed, looking up with his hands behind his head, his eyes shining as he thought about the adventures that the future might hold.
He thought of Jadzia. She’d seem quite worried when he’d been screaming, trying to wake himself up from the nightmare he thought he was in. Was she more concerned about him than she would have been for a simple coworker? Was she coming around? Time would tell, wouldn’t it?
Soon Julian’s eyes shut and his breathing grew steady, a cherubic smile on his face as he lay, peaceful and quiet.
His quarters were still for awhile yet, as peaceful as the thoughts of the man who slumbered within, dim with the false night that had settled on the station. Then, without chime or alarm, his door slid open.
Garak was careful not to disturb the stillness of Julian’s quarters as he entered. He didn’t seem to take care as he walked, yet he hardly seemed there as he moved from shadow to shadow as if it was the path he just happened to choose. It wasn’t only that Garak was stealthy or silent, though he could be both of those things when it suited him. Garak knew how to be the kind of man that people didn’t notice, easily overlooked and easily forgotten.
Of course, he also knew how to be someone that people couldn’t help but notice. Attitude and manner were precise tools to one such as he, and it was important to have the right tool for any job.
Garak sat in his accustomed seat, with a good view of Julian’s bed.
“Good evening, my dear doctor.” He only mouthed the words, but his manner said that they were heartfelt.
It had started as simple information gathering. He had already decided that Julian was going to be his new friend on the station, but he never approached someone without learning something about them. It had been easy, even considering Garak’s intimate knowledge of the station’s workings. This young man, he was so trusting, so eager to please, so excited to be involved in practically anything. Gaining access to the doctor’s quarters had almost made him feel sorry for his new friend. Almost.
There wasn’t much to surprise Garak. There seemed to be little about Julian that the Cardassian couldn’t have guessed at upon meeting him. His medical school journals were quite the illuminating read, though they only confirmed what Garak was already sure of.
Garak put down the journal he was reading and looked across to Julian’s bed, taking in the sleeping doctor.
He wouldn’t last a day on Cardassia, thought Garak, And he’s so honest that a Pakled could ensnare him through deceit, if not cunning. The very model of a Federation citizen and a Starfleet officer.
Garak let his gaze rest on Julian’s sleeping face.
Even so, thought Garak, There is something about this ridiculous young man that I find quite intriguing. I look forward to meeting him tomorrow. Good evening, my dear doctor.
In the first few weeks, when Garak would return sometimes to Julian’s room, he would make excuses. He needed to make sure that no recording devices sensed his previous entry. He needed to double check the doctor’s belongings, look for any clue that the man wasn’t who he said he was.
Yet the excuses ran out, and Garak still found himself in Julian’s room, watching the young doctor sleep.
Garak couldn’t remember when he finally admitted to himself that watching over the sleeping Julian had brought him peace that seemed so rare since his exile. When he sat with Julian in the night, he smiled. Not the smile he so often wore, the smile that was for his enemies, but the smile he never showed anyone, the smile he wore when he was happy.
Part of him sometimes wished that Julian would awaken. In the spy trade, displaying one’s easy and intimate access to someone was often quite effective in instilling fear. Garak knew he would enjoy it immensely if Julian woke up to find him sitting there. He even had the scene planned out in his mind.
“Garak, what are you doing here?” Julian would say.
“My dear doctor, forgive me,” Garak would say, “I was about to turn in for the night, and I must have gotten lost. Rest assured, doctor, I will see myself out.” Then Garak would nod his head and leave as if nothing unusual had happened.
It was fun to fantasize about Julian waking, yet Garak was glad every night that he didn’t. The nights that he was kept awake by dreams, or memories, or his own mood, it was pleasant to have a place to go where he could relax.
Garak gazed once more at Julian’s sleeping face, and he smiled as he laced his fingers. Yes, my dear doctor, he thought, very pleasant indeed. You have my most sincere thanks.
Six Years Later...
Things had changed, as they often do. Garak and Julian had grown together, and then apart for reasons that Garak still didn’t understand. Yet, through it all, Garak’s own concerns with the war and, especially, the fate of his dear Cardassia, had put enough weight on his mind that he’d had many sleepless nights. On those nights, he found he could still seek comfort in Julian’s room. Whatever their personal relationship had become, and Garak wasn’t always clear on that point, there was something about his sleeping face that made his nights bearable.
Garak punched in the override to Julian’s door, and knew immediately that something was different. He felt it before he was consciously aware: there was a third person in Julian’s quarters.
Garak crept in, the whole of his mind focused on his stealth, and his senses. A man in black sat by Julian’s bed, watching the doctor with his fingers pressed together. Garak suppressed both a scoff and a dramatic sigh. And he had been so looking forward to this evening.
The man in black was so intent on Julian that he didn’t see Garak until the Cardassian had already taken hold of his phaser. With a smile, always with a smile, Garak motioned the man out of the room. Both men remained silent until they reached the relative privacy of the corridor.
“You may have gotten the drop on me, Cardassian,” said the man in black, “But you can save yourself some time and tell your friends on Cardassia that you’ll get no information out of me. Elim Garak.”
When Garak heard his name, his smile only broadened. “My good sir,” he said, “I assure you, I have no ill intentions. Why, your presence tells me quite enough, Sloan, agent of Section 31.”
Sloan made an expression of surprise, barely more than a twitch, but enough for Garak to read. “Oh, yes, have heard of you,” said the Cardassian, “Really, for an intelligence organization that isn’t supposed to exist, you do have a flair for the dramatic. Were you waiting for the doctor to awaken to reveal yourself? Perhaps an effective way to establish a superior position, but just a little theatrical, wouldn’t you say?”
“Walk away from this, Garak,” said Sloan, “Forget you saw me. Trust me, it’s for your own good.”
Garak kept walking, still smiling, always smiling. “Now let’s see. Why are you here? I already know that you don’t frequent the young doctor’s quarters, and I doubt very much that you were engaging in a social visit. Could it be the conference on Romulus? Are you still trying to recruit Dr. Bashir as an asset? Really, such optimism is unbecoming of a clandestine operator, such as yourself.”
“Guesses, Garak. That’s all they are.”
“Though, I must admit, the way Section 31 operates has me at a general loss. I am just a simple tailor, so perhaps such matters are beyond me, but it seems to me that there are any number of ways that Section 31 could have tried to recruit Julian the first time that didn’t involve revealing the existence of your little organization. But, perhaps, killing him to ensure his silence would have violated one of your Federation principles. And that is the only way you would have ensured his silence, believe me, sir.”
“What about you, Garak?” said Sloan, “What were you doing in there? You couldn’t have known I was there, I made sure of that. So you had your own reasons. Maybe Julian would be interested to know what you’ve been up to.”
Garak stopped, and he and Sloan faced each other. “I can’t imagine what you’re implying, sir,” said Garak, “Why, it’s only natural for two friends to visit with one another.”
“Is that all it was Garak? A simple visit? I think Julian will see through that one.”
“The doctor, generally, believes what he is told,” said Garak, “Now, please, step this way.” The Cardassian motioned to an airlock, but Sloan didn’t move. “Really, Sloan, must you be difficult about this? As a spy who doesn’t officially exist, you must have known what you were signing up for.”
“You couldn’t have been looking for information,” said Sloan, “Julian already tells you everything. But why else would you be there?”
“Really, this speculation of yours is getting tiresome,” said Garak, “I assure you, my only intention is for us to finish our conversation in a more private space. I don’t need an airlock to kill you, I could simply vaporize you where you stand.”
“Were you waiting for me?” said Sloan, “You know enough that Julian must have told you everything about our last encounter. That must be it, you must have been waiting for us to contact him again, so you could lay a trap. I’ve always known that it was dangerous letting you stay here. Your heart is still Cardassian, however much you pretend to help with the war effort.”
“Well done. Truly, Mr. Sloan, I had underestimated the quality of Section 31 operatives.”
“There will be consequences, Garak. You can’t just abduct a Federation agent and expect-“
“Excuse me, are you a Federation agent? If I contact your Federation authorities, will they confirm that you are acting on their behalf? I think not. All I’m doing is stopping a break-in, as any good Federation citizen might do. However, if you do want to bring this matter up in the Federation courts, I will happily oblige.”
“We’ve never needed courts, Garak. I know that you’re guilty, and soon my organization will too. I know that you Cardassians like your trials, but I always thought they were inefficient. No need for the courts, Garak. One day you can just disappear.”
“Is that a threat? I shall have to watch myself. I could hardly hope to stand up to an organization as efficient and ruthless as Section 31.”
“We’ll see if you joke when I have you in an interrogation room, Garak.”
“You may be waiting a long time.”
“We’ll see,” said Sloan. He smiled, and, at the same time, a transporter beam shone around him, and a moment later he was gone.
Garak smiled at the place where Sloan had last stood. “We shall see,” he said, “I’ll be waiting.”
He sighed to himself. His evening was ruined, and without Sloan to taunt, his own dark thoughts began to creep up on him. He kept walking, away from Julian’s quarters and towards his own.
Garak sat in his quarters, brooding. He had drank half a bottle of some awful human alcohol, but his hand was still steady as he poured himself another glass.
Only Julian, he thought, could have people competing for his evenings. Of course.
He shouldn’t have been surprised; Garak realized this, but also realized that he couldn’t help but be surprised, even after all this time with the doctor. He drifted apart from me in everything else, thought Garak, Why not this as well?
Garak knew that he shouldn’t be mad at Julian. He probably didn’t even know that Sloan had been inside his room. It wasn’t his fault.
Then again, it never was his fault, was it? Other people just naturally seemed to take over the parts of his life that Garak valued. He just naturally got swept away by life, didn’t he?
Garak downed another glass. A part of his mind tried to tell him that he knew better than to wallow like this. He immediately overrode that line of thinking. Garak was in no mood to be cheered up. Especially not by himself.
Garak sighed as he refilled his glass. It wasn’t only that, it seemed, he now had to denigrate himself by competing with that ridiculous organization that Starfleet liked to think of as an intelligence agency for his evenings with the doctor. The fantasy was gone. It was silly and ridiculous, he was self-aware enough to realize that, but sometimes it felt like all he had.
In Garak’s daydreams, he still imagined the doctor waking up while he was there. Garak would look into Julian’s bright, enchanting eyes, eyes that could throw even the most hardened soldier off his guard, and try to come up with a hurried excuse. Then Julian would stop him. “Garak, it’s all right,” he would say, “I figured it out years ago. It’s gotten so that I miss you, the nights that you don’t show up.”
“I really am very sorry, Doctor,” fantasy-Garak would say.
“No need to be sorry,” said the fantasy-Julian, “I found it very flattering, in fact. That you’d go through such a bother just for me.”
Then they’d smile at each other as Julian found his way back to sleep, and Garak looked on.
It had been a wonderful dream, hadn’t it, thought Garak. One of my very best.
Garak threw his glass, and it shattered against the wall. Oh well. It had mostly been empty anyways.
It was more likely that Julian simply didn’t know, had never known. It was far, far more likely, Garak knew this. So why did his mind keep returning to the idea that Julian knew about them both, himself and Sloan? And why did that thought upset him so?
Smiling to no-one, Garak got himself a new glass and poured himself another cup of liquor. He raised his glass and said, “Good evening once again, my dear doctor. Every night a good evening, from here on out. I hope you have peaceful and pleasant dreams without me.”