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To: "ASCEM-S" <ASCEM-S@yahoogroups.com>
From: "Keith & Jessica Bratcher" <campbratcher@psci.net>
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Date: Sat, 5 Jun 2004 19:21:10 -0500
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW DS9 Guilt 2/5 G/B (NC-17)
Reply-To: "Keith & Jessica Bratcher" <campbratcher@psci.net>
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_The Die is Cast_

Julian moaned as gentle kisses and licks tickled his ribs. "This
is wrong."

"You don't believe that," his lover whispered, pausing to
taste Bashir's navel before continuing southward. "You
wouldn't be enjoying this so much if you did."

"No, I -," he gasped as the tongue reached the undeniable
proof of his enjoyment. "It's wrong because you tortured Odo.
I shouldn't be -."

"Of course you should," Garak soothed. He shifted until he
was hovering over Julian, kissing him briefly on the lips. "After
all, you're responsible."

"What? No - ." He tried to push the Cardassian off, but
Garak pinned him down, gripping his wrists painfully.

"I practised on you, didn't I?"

Julian woke, the taste of bile in his mouth. "Computer,
lights," he groaned, and stumbled out of bed. In the refresher,
he rinsed his mouth out several times, before requesting a water
shower, setting it as cold as the temperature settings would allow.
Cursing, Julian forced himself to stand under the icy stream until
his teeth were chattering.

Minutes later he was dry, shaved and in uniform, a habit ingrained
during his internships, even though now he would be ridiculously
early for his shift. Exiting his bedroom, Bashir paused beside the
replicator, but his stomach heaved at the thought of solid food, so
he ordered a Tarkalean tea instead of his usual breakfast. Settling
onto his couch to kill time, he met the unblinking gaze of his oldest
friend.

"Don't look at me like that," he grumbled.

Kukalaka stared back at him, in Julian's imagination,
condemningly.

"Even I can't control my dreams," he informed his teddy
bear irritably. While his enhancements gave him exceptional control
over his body and conscious mind, his unconscious remained stubbornly
resistant. Bashir leaned back, closed his eyes and performed a series
of rapid breaths followed by one long inhale through his nose. But
instead of feeling energized by the meditative breathing, he just
felt more agitated.

It was clear what the dream meant, Julian thought. He was blaming
himself because of his willful blindness regarding Garak. It had been
so easy to resume their old habits, Bashir reflected darkly,
exchanging ideas and books over lunchtime as if nothing had happened.
As if they had never been anything more than friends, and he had
never learned just how dark Elim's past had been.

Worse still, Bashir castigated himself, he had made endless excuses.
Yes, Garak had done appalling things when he had worked for Tain, but
he had reformed during his exile. Julian had witnessed Elim's
compassion towards the Cardassian war orphans, and had learned of his
clandestine donations of clothing and literature to the orphanages.

So, it was all right for him to feel a certain amount of warmth
towards the Cardassian, even to have increasingly erotic dreams of
his ex-lover. Imagining that it was Garak's hand relieving the
resulting ache between his legs had been a little more difficult to
justify, but ultimately had been dismissed as a harmless fantasy, a
leftover of their past encounters. They were just friends now,
nothing more.

Then the Promenade had rocked from the force of the explosion. Julian
recalled dashing into the burning tailor's shop, heedless of his
own safety, and his profound relief that Garak had sustained only
minor injuries. He also remembered the rush of affection he had felt
for Garak when he had left with Odo to find Tain, grateful for the
Cardassian's teasing words for otherwise he might have kissed him
goodbye. Next came the anxiety he had refused to admit to himself
while they were missing; followed by the relief he couldn't deny
when they both appeared on the transporter pad of the Defiant.

One day later, Julian read Odo and Garak's account of what had
transpired in the Gamma quadrant. The revulsion Julian now felt
towards Garak was only matched by his disgust with himself. A shame
compounded by his behaviour on the Defiant before he had known what
had happened; immediately treating the bruise on Garak's face,
without even thinking of checking Odo. Yesterday, he'd made up
for this lapse by scanning the Constable as many times as the
Changeling would permit; his guilt only marginally appeased by the
lack of evidence of any damage or impairment.

It could have been worse, Julian admitted. If all of them hadn't
been so busy in the wake of their forbidden trip through the
wormhole, he would now have much more to feel remorse over.

Julian shook himself, his internal clock alerting him, but no longer
trusting any of his instincts he demanded, "Computer, time?"

"The time is 07 50 hours."

"Bloody hell," a curse he'd picked up from O'Brien.
Bashir quickly returned the untouched tea to the replicator, bestowed
a strained smile on the still disapproving Kukalaka, and briskly
exited his quarters.

Hurrying towards the turbo lift, Julian reproached himself for being
twice over a fool, both for failing to recognize what Garak really
was and for lying to himself about his emotional attachment to his ex-
lover. On his way to the Promenade, he vowed that from now on, there
would be no more lies, and no more forgiveness.

Crossing the Promenade, Bashir warned himself to look the other way
as he passed the Replimat, mindful of Garak's habit of watching
the morning arrivals as he breakfasted. Nevertheless, Julian
couldn't help but quickly glance at the Cardassian's usual
table and confirm that sure enough, he was there. However, Garak
wasn't alone.

Julian took two steps towards them before coming to a dead stop and
staring, his brain unable to process what he was seeing. What the
hell could Odo be doing there, Bashir asked himself in total
bewilderment, an incoherent jumble of possibilities assailing him.
Odo was questioning Garak, he thought. No, that didn't make
sense, the Constable wouldn't interrogate him in the Replimat.
Garak was harassing Odo, threatening him, possibly even blackmailing
him. But if that was true, Julian asked himself, why did the
Changeling look so composed?

No doubt sensing he was under surveillance, Odo finally looked
up. "Can I help you, Doctor?" Garak, meanwhile, kept his eyes
focussed on his breakfast.

"Yes - I mean, no," Julian stammered, now embarrassed as
well as confounded. "I thought -," he abruptly shut his
mouth, belatedly realizing that this was neither the time nor place
to voice his misgivings. "Excuse me, Odo," he glanced at
Garak but couldn't say his name. "Excuse me," he mumbled
again, and rushed away from the Replimat.

Once he reached the Infirmary, Julian stayed by the entrance watching
the Promenade intently. The moment Garak hove into view, Bashir
ducked back to avoid detection. Ignoring the stares of his puzzled
staff, he first checked that the Cardassian was heading for his shop,
and then set out in the opposite direction.

However, Julian discovered that he wasn't the only DS9 officer
disturbed by Odo's behaviour this morning; Major Kira had already
waylaid the Changeling on his way to the Security Office. Following
them as covertly as possible, he overheard Kira insist, "Odo, we
need to talk about this!"

"Major, I don't see how this is anyone's business."
Was it his imagination, Julian pondered, or was Odo less gruff with
Kira than with other staff?

"Don't speak to me like I'm the First Officer, Odo,
I'm here as your friend. And as your friend -." The rest
of her words were cut off as the Security Office doors shut after
them. Bashir slowed to a stop just outside the entrance's sensor
range, wondering if he should return later.

Security's doors slid opened, revealing Odo standing behind his
desk. "What do you want, Doctor?" He demanded curtly.

Of course, Julian thought, feeling his face flush. One couldn't
hover outside of Security without Odo being aware of it. "Ah,
nothing," he stepped into the office, glancing at the Major who
stopped in mid-pace as he entered. "In fact, I'm here for
the same reason as Kira."

"You see, even Julian's concerned." Kira flung her arm
towards the Doctor.

Bashir nodded automatically, until what she meant registered.
"Excuse me?"

"You're friends with that Cardassian - ." Her last
word was rendered incomprehensible by the universal translator's
refusal to give the Federation equivalent to the Bajoran expletive.
Julian often wondered what genius in Starfleet believed censoring
alien swear words was a really helpful idea. He seriously doubted
that the station's original Cardassian technology had been so
prudish.

Kira resumed her pacing and her focus on Odo. "I'm going to
get that back-stabbing vole off this station, I don't care what
you or Sisko think."

"As I'm sure the Commander has already made clear to you,
under Bajoran and Federation law we have no grounds for expulsion.
However, I am fining him for the damage to the Promenade and for
creating a public hazard."

"A public hazard!" Kira looked like she was about to go
apoplectic. Julian made a mental note to himself to pay close
attention to the Major's blood pressure during her next
physical. "Odo, he tortured you! How can you say there are no
grounds?"

"As the incident in question occurred in an area of space not
covered by either Bajoran or Federation treaties, there would only be
grounds if I was willing to press charges. Which I'm not."

Kira's entire being radiated exasperation. "Why not!?"

Odo shook his head and turned away, looking deeply uncomfortable.
Julian, unused to seeing the Constable reveal his feelings through
his body language, suddenly felt ashamed. They were the ones
harassing Odo now, he realized, not Garak.

"Major," the Changeling rumbled, "there's really no
point in discussing this further."

"Odo," Kira's voice softened, becoming much less
aggressive. "Alright, you don't want to press charges. I
don't understand it, but that's your decision to make. But how
can you sit there in the Replimat with him like it never
happened?"

"As I have never shared breakfast with Garak before, I can hardly
be accused of treating him like it never happened."

Kira made a frustrated noise, and threw up her hands. "Fine Odo,
do what you want. But I swear if Garak so much as touches you again,
I will kill him." She stormed out of the Security Office, not
giving the Changeling an opportunity to respond.

Odo turned his attention to the Doctor, his manner forbidding.
"Do you have any ultimatums you would like to add?"

"Ah no," Julian said quickly, "I'm just
concerned." It wasn't his imagination, he decided, the
Constable was far less curt with Kira than with other people.

"So you've said. Now, if that's all, I have work to
do."

Julian braved this clear dismissal. "I was also wondering if you
could stop by the Infirmary later today."

"Doctor, I have already allowed you to scan me as many times as
I'm going to."

"No more scans," Bashir agreed hastily. "But there are
other components of your recovery to consider. After a traumatic
experience, it's standard procedure to administer such a -
test." Stumbling on the last word.

"Doctor, you're not suggesting that I require counselling,
are you?" The Changeling's gravelly voice gaining a hostile burr.

"No! Well actually, yes." Julian found himself wishing that
he'd followed Kira out of the Security Office. But he forged ahead,
reminding himself that Odo was his patient, and clearly in need of
his aid. "I mean, that's what this assessment will determine.
Trust me, the test won't take much time, and it's completely
standard procedure."

"Really," Odo commented dryly. "Then why didn't you
administer this test at the same time as the medical scans?"

"Well, you left in such a rush afterwards," Julian began, but
the Constable's glare caused him to confess truthfully, "Given
what I witnessed this morning, I thought an assessment might be in
order."

"Because I was having breakfast with Garak." A statement, not
a question.

"You may not be familiar with the condition, but it was first
identified on Earth as the Stockholm Syndrome and -."

"Doctor, are you aware that wasting Station Security's time
is a criminal offense?"

"Er -."

"One that could result in you spending the remainder of your duty
shift inside a holding cell?"

"Excuse me, Constable, I think - I had better return to the
Infirmary."

"A wise decision, Doctor."

Bashir could feel Odo's eyes follow him as he beat a hasty
retreat out of the Security Office. Although he did return to the
Infirmary, Julian was not yet prepared to admit defeat. He quickly
briefed Nurse Jabara on the priorities of the day, and issued strict
instructions that he wasn't to be disturbed unless there was an
emergency. Grabbing a cup of Tarkalean tea, Julian locked himself
into his office, determined not to leave until he had solved this
conundrum.

As Odo would not submit to a psychiatric exam, Julian mused, he would
have to search for other evidence of a traumatic response in his
patient. He settled into his chair and sipped his tea, reminding
himself to start by separating his facts from his fears. He was
momentarily distracted by the irony that this was a lesson Garak had
taught him. But then, Julian decided, what could be more appropriate
than using the analytical and observational skills he had gained from
his ex-lover to benefit one of the Cardassian's own victims.

Refocusing his mind, Julian asked himself what he knew for certain.
Odo and Garak had been sitting together in the Replimat, conversing
while the Cardassian had his breakfast. Bashir closed his eyes and
replayed the memory, but could find nothing in Odo's behaviour
that indicated he'd been interacting with the Cardassian against
his will. As for Garak, none of his mannerisms suggested that he was
dominating the Changeling. If anything, Julian reflected, throughout
the brief period of observation, Garak had been utterly deferential
towards Odo.

Julian opened his eyes, so far everything he knew for certain
suggested that Odo was voluntarily socializing with a man who had
brutally tortured him. A completely inappropriate and unhealthy
response to his ordeal, reminiscent of the concern displayed by the
former hostages in 20th century Stockholm for their captors. He now
had more than sufficient cause to medically intervene, except for the
rather significant problem that Odo was not a human being.

It was like a trick question on an inter-species final exam, Bashir
thought, except that here the consequences were more dire than
becoming class salutatorian. A wrong answer now meant that he would
fail a patient.

Taking a sip from his tea, Julian tried to think of a resource he
could consult, but what Federation Medical knew about Changelings
made their knowledge of Cardassians look positively encyclopaedic.
Moreover, all multi-species psychology presupposed the existence of a
brain influenced by chemical imbalances, and a personality formed by
socialization and experience. But how could he apply such
assumptions, Julian asked himself, to a species that did not appear
to have a separate organ for cognition nor an equivalent to brain
chemistry. Furthermore, Odo's socialization bore more resemblance
to the treatment of a lab experiment than the upbringing of a
sentient being.

Frustrated, Julian admitted that he was back at square one, with no
way of objectively gauging if Odo was acting irrationally. He pushed
aside his cooling mug, and wondered if should force himself to eat.
Before he could decide, Bashir realized that he had overlooked the
obvious. His expression grim, Julian activated his computer console,
submitted his clearance code, and accessed the reports from Odo and
Garak on their actions in the Gamma quadrant.






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