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Date: Wed, 30 Jun 2004 23:46:51 -0500
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW DS9:  Best-case Scenario 1/2 (G/B) [NC-17]
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Title: Best-case Scenario
Author: E. LaForge
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: NC-17, on the safe side, but it doesn't get too explicit.
Disclaimer: Star Trek belongs to Paramount; I'm just writing this 
for fun and not making even one bar of latinum.
Summary: Set between "The Wire" and "The Adversary." An 

~~~


Julian Bashir looked up from his half-finished Ruan casserole to see 
his now-late lunch companion striding toward him with a tray in his 
hands and a faraway look on his face. Julian felt the knot of 
tension in his stomach dissipate now that it was clear Garak hadn't 
stood him up. Still, it was not like Garak to be late, and Julian 
wondered what colorful excuse the tailor might give.

"Garak, I was beginning to think that I wouldn't see you today." 
Julian smiled as the Cardassian sat opposite him. "Is a discussion 
of `Gulliver's Travels' that terrifying a prospect?

"I apologize for my tardiness," Garak said with a wan smile. "I had 
a rather . . . unsettling event in my shop just now, and I was 
unavoidably delayed."

"Oh?" Julian resumed eating, turning interested eyes on to his 
friend. "Did Morn drop in to `visit' that bolt of lime-green Risan 
suede?"

"Not today, I'm afraid." Garak carefully arranged his cutlery, 
keeping his eyes lowered. "Doctor, would you tell me, please, what 
*is* the fascination fellatio holds for human males?"

Julian's fork clattered to his plate. "Excuse me?"

"Fellatio," Garak repeated, frowning. "Am I mispronouncing it? It is 
the sexual practice in which the phallus is stimulated by oral -"

"- I know what it is." Julian squirmed a little. Garak's face was as 
serious as he'd ever seen it, which indicated that this wasn't one 
of the Cardassian's teases or put-ons. Somehow, that didn't make 
Julian feel any better. "I just . . . why do you ask?" 

The older man sighed, looking up at the doctor at last. "Perhaps I 
should start at the beginning. You're no doubt aware that Admiral 
Townsmythe and his family are visiting the station."

"Of course." Julian couldn't imagine with Admiral Stephen Townsmythe 
would have to do with Garak's question. Frankly, fellatio or any 
other sex act was *not* the first thing that came to Julian's mind 
when he thought of the corpulent admiral. "He and his family are on 
the station to attend the consecration of the new temple on Bajor."

"Yes." Garak's eyes narrowed. "The admiral and his *family.* That is 
precisely the issue."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Honestly, Doctor, I'm not sure I do, either." Garak's eyes grew 
even darker. "Two days ago, Mrs. Townsmythe and young Mr. Townsmythe 
entered my shop. Mrs. Townsmythe was seeking a gown to wear at the 
consecration ceremony and she also wanted something suitably formal 
for her son. You've met the admiral's wife and the young man, 
perhaps?"

"Very briefly." Julian recalled the reception Commander Sisko had 
held when the admiral first came aboard the station. Along with the 
rest of the senior staff, he'd been introduced to Ursa Townsmythe, a 
regal, gracious, middle-aged woman, and to Gabriel, a bored-looking 
red-haired teen who'd spent most of the reception alternately ogling 
Dax and staring out the port windows.  

"Mrs. Townsmythe was charming," Garak mused. "She found a lovely 
gown almost immediately. The young man, however, seemed to have more 
trouble. He found fault with every suit I had in my racks and seemed 
to have no idea exactly *what* would please him. He and his mother 
argued at length, and nothing I said could placate either of them. 
It became quite heated between them for a time." 

"It sounds . . . unpleasant." 

"Oh, it was, Doctor, but not nearly as unpleasant as what transpired 
after Mrs. Townsmythe departed." Garak took a sip of red-leaf 
tea. "The admiral commed her, scolding about a lunch appointment 
they were in danger of missing because she and their young man had 
spent so much time on the Promenade. As a result, the good lady had 
to depart, but before doing so, she asked me to continue `working' 
with her son to find an outfit. I agreed, believing that perhaps it 
was her presence that was vexing the young man. But oddly, as soon 
as his mother left, he became even more . . . unreasonable." 

Garak fell silent, making an agitated motion with his free hand. As 
impatient as Julian was to hear the rest of the story and understand 
where fellatio fit into it all, that slight movement coupled with 
the Cardassian's averted gaze and slightly flushed face gave him 
pause. Almost at once, Julian felt his brain switch into physician 
mode; there was something seriously troubling Garak, and while it 
might be not physical in nature, Julian instinctively sought to 
soothe the Cardassian, put him more at ease. 

"Garak, whatever it is that happened, if you don't feel comfortable 
talking about it here, perhaps we could meet later, and -"

"It is not that I'm not comfortable, I simply don't understand it." 
Garak regarded the doctor over his tea cup. "The young man became 
agitated to the point of belligerence. Nothing in my shop satisfied 
him, and he responded to my suggestions with laughter or the most 
disgusting snorting sounds. I finally suggested - strongly - that he 
leave and come back the following day. I was anticipating the 
arrival of some additional merchandise, and I told him that perhaps 
he'd find something to his liking then." 

Garak's voice became almost imperceptibly softer. "And that is when 
he said . . . he said . . ."

"He said . . .?" Julian edged closer.

"And then, he said to me, `Suck my cock, you scaly bastard.'" 
Another sip of tea. "He left my shop immediately thereafter."

Julian's eyes widened, and for a minute he was, torn between 
surprise and amusement. The straightforward way in which Garak 
recited the story was extremely entertaining, but there was a note 
of muted offense in that calm voice that killed any desire Julian 
had to laugh. 

"I'm very sorry, Garak. He was extremely rude."

Garak's expression lightened instantly. "He was being . . . rude?"

"Very. I would expect the son of one of Starfleet's most decorated 
officers to be more civil. For him to be so insulting to someone 
trying to help him is almost beyond belief. I'm sure Admiral 
Townsmythe would be mortified if he knew his son had called you a, 
er, 'scaly bastard.'"

"Oh that." Garak waved a dismissive hand. "I've been called much, 
much worse by customers in the past, believe me. Why, just last 
week, one of Quark's Lurian associates found fault with a shirt he'd 
purchased . . . my ears are still burning from the language he used! 
No, Doctor, I was more concerned about what appeared to be an 
invitation by young Mr. Townsmythe to orally pleasure him."

Julian's fork dropped again. "A what?!"

"But now that I know that he was simply insulting me and not 
propositioning me, I feel much better." Garak tilted his 
head. "Doctor, what is so funny?"

Julian's chin was nearly in his plate, his body shaking with 
laughter. It was only when he chanced a glance up at his friend and 
saw the bewildered and look in his eyes that he made an effort to 
control himself. 

"It's just . . . Garak . . ." Julian tried to squelch residual 
snickers. "I've never known you to take something so literally. 
Surely you had to know that he wasn't suggesting that you . . . that 
he and you . . ."

"Well, I certainly didn't take anything he said to mean anything of 
substance. Not at first." Garak looked thoughtful. "The confusion, 
dear Doctor, came when he continually employed the use of those 
terms. I understand now that his intention was merely to provoke. 
But at the time -"

"Continually?" The doctor's forehead creased. "What do you mean?"

"This initial outburst came, as I said, two days ago," Garak 
said. "Since then, he has been in my shop twice more, and each time, 
he has . . . *insulted* me in a similar fashion. Yesterday, I was 
fitting him for a pair of slacks. As I was measuring the hem, the 
boy leaned forward and whispered, `While you're down there, why 
don't you suck my nuts and hum.'" 

Garak's eyes were bright, inquisitive. "*Nuts,* in this usage, is a 
colloquial term referring to the testicles, is it not?"

"Er . . . yes. That's right." Julian took a long drink of his 
raktajino, trying to work moisture into his suddenly dry 
mouth. "Um . . . and what did you do when he said this? Did you say 
anything?"

"I couldn't at the time, Doctor. My mouth was full of stick pins." 
Garak sighed. "And, regrettable, by the time I had thought to ask 
him just *why* he would require me to hum on his testicles, he had 
departed." 

"Pity." Julian bit down on his lip hard to keep from smiling. This 
was too, too bizarre, but gods, it was about the funniest thing he'd 
heard in weeks. "I would have loved to have heard his answer."

Garak gave him a disapproving look, but continued, "And today, just 
as I was closing up the shop to keep our lunch assignation, the 
young man entered, ostensibly to pay for the items he'd selected. He 
seemed adamant that he must pay for the items today, and he seemed 
calmer than he'd been on previous occasions, so I was not 
concerned." Garak said. "I made out the bill padd, he entered the 
admiral's access number, and I gave him his items . . . and asked 
him if there was anything more I could do for him. He looked at me," 
Garak's voice dropped again, "and said, `Fuck off, cocksucker.' He 
again left immediately thereafter.

"Really, Doctor, I've gone over my interaction with this young man 
in detail, and I can't imagine what I might have done or said to 
merit such a response from the young man. I was courteous, I 
assisted him as well I was able, and I gave him a wide berth when it 
was clear that he did not want anyone hovering over him. I can't 
imagine what I have done that would produce such a profound dislike 
of my person."

"To be honest, Garak, I don't know what his problem could be, 
either. The admiral was one of the main Federation higher-ups who 
pushed for the peace treaty between Cardassia and Bajor, and he 
helped negotiate a peace between the Federation and Cardassia after 
the Battle at Starbase 510. It'd be strange if the son of a man who 
helped foster peace between Cardassians and Terrans harbored some 
hatred of your people." Julian scratched the area above his 
eyelid. "This is all very odd. I can't tell you what the boy is 
playing at. In fact, the only thing that is clear here is that this 
young man has a singularly filthy mouth."

"So it would appear." Garak said. "But with my knowledge of human 
sexual practices limited as it is, I had wondered if his sexually 
charged language and his particular focus on the phenomenon of 
fellatio between males was an attempt to initiate a liaison with me, 
though of course I knew the practical impossibilities of such a 
liaison."

"Impossible." Bashir rubbed his mouth, nodding. He felt another 
attack of laughter coming on and he was trying desperately to stem 
the tide. "Impossible is a *very* good word for it."

"Quite." Garak gave a glimmer of a smile. "After all, what would he 
see in a decrepit pile of scales such as myself?"

"Garak, you're hardly . . ." Julian's eyes roamed the exotic 
landscape of ridges, scales and pewter skin. He smiled longingly, 
casting aside a very familiar fantasy, ". . . a `decrepit pile of 
scales.' It's just that Gabe Townsmythe is so *young.* Barely older 
than Jake - and he's the son of one of the most powerful men in 
Starfleet."

"And I am neither his age nor his station." Garak's sigh was worthy 
of the stage. "It as perfect as if we were in that charming, insipid 
Victorian novel we discussed last week. I am the unworthy, unloved 
suitor, spurned even before I could press my suit for the young 
man's heart."

The doctor's grin faded at Garak's almost wistful 
expression. "Garak, come on, even if he *had* been offering, you 
surely wouldn't have wanted to . . ."

"It is rather lonely here." Garak looked vaguely around the 
Replimat. "And it's not as if I have very many offers of 
companionship . . ."

Julian stared across the table at the Cardassian while silence 
stretched between them like a Ferengi with his hand out. Then, 
almost in the next second, the doctor saw something flicker in the 
blue eyes and the edges of the thin lips twitch, and the two broke 
into loud laughter almost simultaneously, startling several diners 
at nearby tables. 

"Oh, Doctor, it is such fun scaring you out of your wits," Garak was 
grinning broadly. "I wish you could have seen the shock in your 
expression just now . . ."

"Utter terror would probably be more accurate. I was wondering 
whether you'd gotten into Quark's bad batch of kanar." Julian took a 
deep breath as one or two last chuckles escaped him. "I knew that 
you could not have truly considered . . ."

". . . Doing exactly what the young man asked?" Garak quirked an eye 
ridge at him. "Come, you know me better than that! I am neither that 
innocent nor in any way desirous to be shoved out of an airlock by 
the good admiral. But I am still rather at a loss why he chose to 
use *those* particular phrases to insult me. I may not know much 
about human sexual practices, but I was given to understand that 
fellatio is a pleasurable experience."

"Uhm . . ." Bashir felt his cheeks begin to tingle. "Well, if done 
with skill and care . . . yes, it is pleasurable. Very."

The Cardassian looked puzzled. "Then what is the purpose of 
referencing a pleasurable activity as a form of insult?"

"Hmmm. Interesting question. Well, I suppose it has much to do with 
Terran history and the stigma once attached to homosexuality. It was 
a practice that was openly condemned, and for quite a long time, one 
could be punished for having a preference for a member of their sex 
by loss of freedom, loss of goods, and in some societies, loss of 
life," Julian said. "Eventually, the notion that those who engaged 
in homosexual activity were degenerate or somehow `less-than' than 
others who were heterosexual  . . . took root in popular society, 
and that is how such insults began to take form. For a man to 
insinuate to another man that he liked to . . . er . . . suck cock, 
for example, was considered an extraordinary affront . . . a way of 
indicating that the person was thought of as being less than a man."

"How very small-minded of your forebears." Garak's expression was 
thoughtful. "But even so, to take an act that gives pleasure and 
degrade its meaning into cheap slur seems crass, even by Terran 
standards."

"That's not done in Cardassian society?" Julian looked surprised. "I 
thought epithets of that sort were rather commonplace in races 
throughout the galaxy. You were in Quark's last week when Kira told 
Gul Dukat to stop pestering her or she'd shove a live vole up his 
ass, weren't you?"

"Ah yes." Garak's lips curved into a satisfied smile. "The Major has 
such a lovely way with words. I don't think I've ever seen Dukat 
turn quite that shade of white. But, my dear Doctor, in no society 
that I know of would shoving a live vole up one's rear end be 
considered a pleasurable activity - even if the vole were declawed."

Julian shuddered. "I can't disagree there."

"I have heard several Terran insults in which sexual activity was 
referred to, either obliquely or overtly, but for the most part, 
they make little sense and don't seem to be something that is 
actually *done* between humans. For example, how exactly does 
one `fuck off'?"

Bashir opened his mouth. Shut it. "Well, that -"

"And I know only of a few species that have the capability to 
actually `go and fuck themselves.' Most of them, oddly, live rather 
dull lives in spite of this talent."

"Yes, but -" 

"And that term I overheard the Chief using . . . `shooting his 
wad,'" the Cardassian continued. "I am well aware of what that 
phrase means in the literal sense, but I am sure that Mr. O'Brien 
was not suggesting that he'd reached orgasm - in public - after 
defeating the Constable in a heated game of darts and losing the 
next seven."

Julian reflected that given Miles' love of darts, one couldn't 
really assume anything of the sort. "But none of those terms are 
meant to be taken literally, Garak. As you point out, they are 
virtual impossibilities, which is why they have entered the lexicon 
as terms of derision."

"But pleasuring a human phallus *is* possible." Garak's eyes were 
shrewd. "I cannot `fuck off,' Doctor, but I could conceivably suck 
someone's . . . cock."

"Garak!" Julian tried to sound properly scandalized, but realized 
that he was falling somewhat short of the mark. His mind had 
conjured up a vivid picture of Garak doing just that - to him - and 
the image stole some of the indignation from his voice. 

"And though I'm not sure what the purpose is, I suppose I would have 
no problem sucking a human's testicles - while humming." Garak 
blinked slowly. "Is that generally something human males enjoy? It 
sounds rather odd."

Julian kept telling himself to keep his composure, even though his 
face was hot enough to power a warp core or two and he desperately 
wanted to bolt. Garak's questions were making him more and more 
nervous, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that Garak was 
simply being inquisitive - not suggestive or mocking in any way. 
Garak was of a different culture, a different species, Julian 
reminded himself, and his questions, keen as they might be, were not 
meant to embarrass him, even though they were, nor arouse him - even 
though they were doing *that,* as well.

"The vibrations made by humming on that sensitive an area . . ." 
Julian swallowed, all too aware of Garak's gaze upon him. "It can 
feel very nice, indeed."

"Forgive my ignorance, Doctor." Garak said gently, seeming to sense 
Julian's discomfort. "But on Cardassia, one does not use sexual 
terms when wanting to abuse someone. It simply . . . it just 
isn't . . ." 

Garak paused, his lips slightly pursed as he searched for 
words. "The two - sexual reference and invective - cannot be mixed. 
I might call an enemy a brain-dead vole, and that's quite 
recognizable as insult. But if I were to say, `Lick my left neck 
ridge and  . . . hum,' a Cardassian would interpret that as an overt 
invitation to bed."

"Really?" Julian's gaze wandered to said neck ridge. He felt his 
cheeks flush as his eyes traversed the ridged cord of flesh, and for 
a moment, Julian tried to imagine the feel of the patterned skin 
beneath his tongue. 

"Really." Garak dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a 
napkin. "So now you understand how I was so easily misled by the 
tone and content of young Mr. Townsmythe's conversation. I suppose I 
tend to forget that there are still nuances of Terran culture I have 
yet to grasp."

"And I would guess Gabe Townsmythe didn't anticipate that you would 
not know he was being a miserable little prick - er," Julian hastily 
checked himself at Garak's grin. "A very *obnoxious* young man. I 
wish he'd known *what* you were thinking about the things he said to 
you! If you like, I can speak with the commander. Perhaps he and the 
admiral can have a talk -"

"Quite unnecessary, Doctor." Garak held up a hand. "I doubt very 
seriously I'll see the boy again and I'd rather *not* dwell on past 
unpleasantness." 

He fished a data chip out from the folds of his tunic and glanced at 
Bashir. "So I suggest we turn our focus to *present* unpleasantness. 
I believe we were going to discuss this `Gulliver's Travels' of 
yours . . .?"

(*)

Julian tiredly slogged through the motions of powering down the 
Infirmary's main computers at the end of what had proved to be a 
very busy shift. Quark had gotten in a new rappelling holosuite 
program, and all afternoon, unfortunate adventurers had trooped into 
the Infirmary with scrapes, sprains, and in O'Brien's case, another 
dislocated shoulder. Julian made a note on his duty padd to check in 
with Quark on the holosuite safety threshold, and prepared to call 
it a night. He briefly considered heading to the Promenade for an 
early dinner, but decided against it. Right then, a shower, a quick 
bowl of soup and bed seemed just his speed.

"Garak to Bashir!"

Julian straightened at the frenzied tone of his friend's voice as it 
was piped through the comm. 

"Bashir here. Garak is there a -"

"Doctor, forgive the intrusion." Julian noted with growing concern 
that the normally wry voice was underlain with agitation. "But I do 
need to see you at your earliest convenience."

"Garak, what's wrong? Are you ill? Where are you?"

"In my quarters." Julian frowned as he heard what sounded like low 
moan somewhere in the background as Garak spoke. "I simply . . . 
I'll explain once you are here. Please make all haste, Doctor."  

"Don't move, Garak. I'm on my way." In seconds, Julian was several 
feet outside the infirmary and speeding to the nearest turbolift.

~

The turbolift seemed agonizingly, frustratingly slow, and as he rode 
up to Garak's level of the habitat ring, Julian kicked himself for 
not just transporting directly to Garak's quarters. Garak's visits 
to the Infirmary in recent years had been limited to the annual 
physical and to be vaccinated against a particularly virulent strain 
of Thelusian flu. That had been all, however; as far as health went, 
Garak was a stunning portrait of it. But Julian knew he'd never 
forget the last time Garak had truly been ill.

It didn't seem as if nearly three years had passed since the 
incident with Garak's cranial implant, but Julian knew he'd never 
forget it - or how reluctant Garak had been to seek any medical 
attention . . . or how it had nearly been too late to save him. The 
Cardassian hadn't become any more enamored of the medical process 
since that time, and Julian trembled to imagine what could have 
spurred Garak to *contact* him. Bashir was only thankful that at 
least now he knew much, much more about Cardassian physiology than 
he had in those dark days where it seemed certain Garak was going to 
die.

Julian rushed from the turbolift and reached Garak's door in two 
strides. Impatiently, he pressed the door chime. "Garak? It's 
Julian - open the door."

There was no response. Julian tried the chime again, his concern 
growing with every passing second. There was still no answer. 
Intensely concerned now, Julian called out his medical override 
code, tightening his grip on his medkit.

The door slid open, and immediately Julian was met with the sound of 
groans, and muffled conversation coming from the direction of 
Garak's bedroom. He moved warily, but swiftly, toward the sounds, 
bracing himself for the worst. "Garak? Garak, are you here?"

There was a muffled response from within the small bedroom, but 
Julian could not make it out through all the other noise coming from 
that general vicinity. For a brief moment, Julian thought he heard 
voices, but was sure he was mistaken. Garak certainly would have 
told him if he had company.

Julian reached the threshold of the bedroom, and his eyes 
immediately zeroed in on Garak. The Cardassian was sitting at the 
edge of his bed, his attention fixed on some point in the distance. 
The doctor's cataloging gaze took in every aspect of the tailor's 
outward appearance, and while he noted that his neck ridges looked a 
little swollen, there was no sign that Garak was suffering any 
physical distress. 

"Garak, you had me worried! Didn't you hear me at the door?" Julian 
fully entered the room, drawing out his tricorder. "What seems to be 
the troub -" 

*OH FUCK YEAH! YEAH BITCH, SUCK IT! SUUUCCCCKKK ITTTTTTT!*

The tricorder dropped to the floor, and Julian's jaw followed suit. 
The Cardassian was still silent, staring straight before him. Julian 
realized after the first shock had passed that *that* sound, and 
others like it, was emanating from somewhere else inside the room. 
Somewhere behind him . . .

Julian turned slowly, and found himself facing a vidscreen, upon 
which two men were displayed in rather vivid holographic form. Two 
naked men. Well, largely naked, as one man did have a black leather 
cap on his head that stayed impossibly still even as he rammed his 
cock down the throat of Man Number Two. This man was quite naked - 
no cap in sight. And on his knees. And bobbing his head in the 
standing man's crotch as if there were hell to pay as his companion 
directed a string of loving curses at his head.

Julian felt his knees about to give way as his shocked eyes took in 
the  . . . festivities. Neither man looked familiar to Bashir, so he 
was reasonably sure that what he was seeing was not some sort of 
surveillance tape of some kind. The setting, in fact, seemed to be 
some tropical landscape with waterfalls in the background and a 
sandy beach within view. White sand bordered clear, blue water that 
stretched as far as the eye could see. A soft breeze rustling the 
tops of swaying palms were just about the only discernable sound if 
one screened out the rising moans, grunts and sighs.

"Garak?" Julian found he could immediately look away from the 
screen. The kneeling man was making furtive, purposeful movements at 
his own crotch, and Julian felt some familiar stirrings below his 
belly. "Garak . . . what . . . what *is* this?"

"Terran homosexual pornography, I believe." Garak's voice was 
hoarse. "Quite . . . explicit."

"Yes, but . . ." Julian blinked as the camera pulled in tight on the 
action, giving him a good, close look at the standing man's shaft as 
it slid and out of his partner's mouth, his balls slapping the other 
man's chin with every stroke. "But . . . why are you . . . why are 
*you* watching this?"

"I was directed to." Garak met the doctor's eyes for the briefest 
moment. "It seemed rude to  . . . refuse."

"Wait, you were what? Garak, what is going on?" Julian gained 
control of himself, turning away from the screen and retrieving his 
fallen tricorder. He was unable, however, to filter out the slurping 
sounds, moans, and exclamations of pleasure at his back. "I thought 
you were sick!"

"I fear I might be, if this goes on much longer." Garak directed a 
sharp command in Kardasi toward the middle of the room, and 
everything went silent. "I think that perhaps it is time I had a 
talk with the Constable."

"Speak with Odo? Why?" He peered at the Cardassian, a bit concerned 
by the luminous quality to the blue eyes that was visible even in 
the dim lighting. "Garak?"

"That holovid file . . . was a gift, Doctor. A certain *rude* young 
man left it in my shop, along with an invitation to a rendezvous 
tonight." Garak gave Julian a significant look. "One in which I am 
apparently expected to reenact the little drama you just saw . . ."

Julian was motionless as Garak's words penetrated through his still-
stunned conscious mind. "Are you telling me that Gabe Townsmythe 
gave you this holovid and asked you to meet him somewhere later to 
have sex?"

"That is exactly what I am saying."

Julian let out a long breath. To say that the situation was bizarre 
was a vast understatement. It was strange enough to have had to 
force his way into Garak's quarters only to find the Cardassian in 
his bedroom watching gay porn, but to know that this particular 
holovid had been given to him somehow by a 17-year-old boy who 
allegedly wanted a more personal encounter was almost beyond belief. 
But everything about Garak's demeanor - from the rigid posture to 
the way Garak couldn't seem to meet his gaze - indicated that the 
situation was as real as it was surreal.

"Garak, I think you'd better tell me exactly what happened." After a 
minute of hesitation, Julian perched next to Garak on the bed. "When 
did you see Gabriel again?"

"I *didn't* see him, Doctor. Well, not for more than a moment or 
two." The Cardassian's voice held a subtle edge. "I was in my shop 
after our lunch, doing inventory. I had very few customers during 
the afternoon, so I was putting most of my focus on logging supplies 
and some alterations I've been putting off. At around 1600, I went 
back to the storeroom to find a spool of thread . . . I was back 
there for perhaps fifteen minutes when I heard the entry sensors 
chime. When I wasn't summoned to the front after another minute or 
two, I figured that the person who had entered was simply browsing, 
so I continued my activities at the back. 

"I found the thread I was looking for," Garak went on, "and prepared 
to greet the person who had entered. As I stepped into the main 
area, I heard the doors draw back and saw a figure exit the shop. I 
knew it was young Mr. Townsmythe from his tunic - he was wearing the 
exact same clothing as when he'd come into the shop earlier in the 
day. I didn't think anything of his visit, really, and was quite 
relieved that he'd come and gone without incident . . . but as I 
walked toward the counter, I saw that two items had been placed 
there. A padd . . . and that holovideo chip."

Garak walked over to the video console, picking up a data padd lying 
at its side. Holding it out to Bashir, he said, "This is the 
charming note he left. It is to the point, don't you think? Though 
lacking a little in finesse and style, perhaps."

The doctor had no trouble reading the illuminated text in the scant 
lighting. //Hey. Watch this and tell me what you think in person at 
2000 hours in cargo bay three.// Reflexively, Julian checked his 
chrono. It was a little past 1800 hours now. //I'll be waiting.//

"I very nearly commed you when I read this message." Garak was not-
quite pacing around the small room. "But I thought that perhaps I 
should simply view the video chip before reaching any conclusions. I 
remained in the shop until 1700, closed up as usual, and returned to 
my quarters. I then inserted the data chip . . . and well, you are 
aware of what I saw." 

Garak halted in the middle of the floor. "I did not intend to unduly 
alarm you, Doctor, but I needed your input as to what I should do 
next. I assume that this . . ." he inclined his head toward the 
padd, "is not exactly in line with the Terran form of insult that we 
discussed at lunch?"

"No. I would say that it is not." Julian rubbed his chin. "I don't 
know quite what to say. It's possible that he was unsatisfied with 
your lack of reaction to his taunts and wanted to grab your 
attention more forcefully."

"I'd not considered that," Garak admitted. "But the invitation to 
meet? That seems a bit extreme if all he wants to do is gauge my 
reaction to his . . . present."

"That could be an extension of his prank or some sort of trap, 
Garak. After all - who knows what is in cargo bay three? He could be 
waiting there with a bottle of chilled kanar laced with Relytvian 
neuropoison - or a loaded phaser."

There was a slight chuckle. "And you say *I* have a flair for the 
dramatic, Doctor."

"I really should speak with Commander Sisko." Julian picked up the 
padd again. "This whole situation can be brought to an end in 
moments." 

Garak shook his head. "Doctor, I do *not* think that would help 
matters."

"Well why not?" Julian demanded. "The admiral should know that his 
son is being an utter brat. If he behaves this way here, god knows 
what he might do at the consecration ceremony!"

Garak smiled faintly. "Doctor, if you tell the commander that the 
son of one of the most powerful men in the Federation has made a 
habit of using vulgar language and is - at least superficially - 
making sexual advances toward the station's tailor, do you have any 
idea what he'll think?"

"Well . . . he'll be a little taken aback, I suppose . . . maybe a 
little surprised. Maybe . . . a great *deal* surprised. But Sisko 
will not dismiss me out of hand!" Julian spoke with a shade more 
conviction than he felt. "He'll know that I wouldn't just make 
something like this up out of nowhere."

"Of course he wouldn't think that," Garak agreed. "You are his chief 
medical officer . . . a member of his senior staff, and a very 
steady, intelligent young man not given to practical jokes or 
inappropriate humor. You'd have no reason to fabricate such a tale. 
The commander would investigate your claim. He would take the padd, 
the chip and have them analyzed. He might even order a complete 
cross-reference of the sensor logs from my shop to see just who 
entered, and when. It's even possible that the Constable has a 
surveillance video that has captured not only this afternoon's 
events, but all of my previous encounters with young Mr. Townsmythe.

"Eventually, my story would bear out, because, strange as it may 
seem, it is true." Garak's smile thinned. "Commander Sisko, 
realizing this, would be honor-bound to report his findings to the 
admiral, who in turn would feel honor-bound to entice his son to 
apologize - if not to me, then to the commander for being rude to 
inhabitant on his station."

"Yes, that's probably about how it would go," Julian said slowly, 
sure that Garak was leading him, but not sure to what end or 
purpose. "Gabriel would likely be so humiliated that he wouldn't go 
near your shop for the rest of his stay here . . . and everything 
would be resolved. Isn't that what you want?"

"Of course it is. But think about it, Doctor - do *you* believe that 
the admiral will enjoy having it thrust in his face that his son - 
his own flesh and blood, his heir, his pride and joy - had 
propositioned a Cardassian exile old enough to be his father? And 
that his young son possesses the likes of the holovid you just saw?"

"Uh . . . well . . ."

"It has been my experience that this sort of behavior doesn't just 
suddenly *decide* to manifest itself," Garak said. "If I had to 
guess, simply judging from the irritation I've seen Mrs. Townsmythe 
display toward the young man, she and the admiral are well aware of 
their son's . . . idiosyncrasies and tolerate them as long as they 
are not made to confront them directly. Getting the commander 
involved would almost certainly induce a confrontation of some sort. 
And while that might solve *my* problem, it could begin some very 
uncomfortable problems for you, Doctor. The admiral would likely not 
appreciate your instigation in this matter, and there might be 
subtle ways in which he'd be able to check your advancement."

Garak held Julian's gaze as he spoke, and Julian stared back, 
distracted by the endless blue of the Cardassian's eyes, only half-
hearing what was being said. "Garak, the admiral wouldn't be that 
petty -"

"If we were discussing an officer under his command, perhaps I would 
agree," Garak replied. "But this is his *son,* Doctor. He will hate 
you for even knowing that his son is . . . not as well-adjusted as 
he might be. He will resent your knowing that apparently his 
parenting skills are perhaps not what they should be. And he might 
lash out in a very unpleasant manner. You cannot tell me that there 
is not at least the possibility that he might make things difficult 
for you in Starfleet."

Julian half-rose from the bed. "But, Garak -" 

"I treasure your regard for me, Doctor, but I won't allow you to put 
yourself in a position that you may later on find singularly 
unpleasant. I warn you - if you go to the commander, I *will* 
destroy everything I have shown you and I *will* deny any of it ever 
took place." There was no give in the cultured voice. "Do not force 
my hand, Doctor. Please trust that I *do* have your best interests 
at heart."

Julian accepted Garak's response without additional comment, and the 
room fell silent for awhile. Julian absently smoothed his hand on 
the coverlet beneath him and reflected that he'd never paid a 
casual, friendly visit in the Cardassian's quarters. There was 
always some emergency or another - a malfunctioning cranial implant 
here, a sexually explicit holovid there . . . Julian made a silent 
vow to end this chain of visiting dysfunction and invite Garak to 
*his* quarters for a nice, leisurely, angst-free dinner just as soon 
as this latest crisis was brought to an end. 

"I appreciate your concern for my career prospects, Garak, and no 
doubt you might be right about how the admiral might react, but we 
can't just do nothing." Julian let his thoughts roam for a 
moment. "And we shouldn't let this drop - Gabriel is doing this 
because you have not responded to his previous attempts to goad you, 
and you must assume that if this latest attempt falls flat, he may 
become more and more bold. He could end up doing something that 
really *would* send the admiral off the deep end."

"This is why I propose going to Constable Odo," Garak stood and 
stalked over to the view port. "With some . . . creative omissions, 
I could achieve the same goal. I thought perhaps I'd turn in these 
items, tell the constable that they were left in my shop and that I 
have no idea to whom they might belong. He will do his 
investigations, find the unfortunate individual and return the items 
to him, advising him, perhaps to keep a closer on his property."

"You don't think Odo will actually believe that, do you?"

"Doctor, I can't think of a single instance in which the constable 
has *ever* believed a word I've said." Garak said amiably. "But 
that's not important - he'll feel it his duty to investigate the 
matter, and that alone should result in the end of this annoying 
activity."

"End a game by playing one?" Julian shook his head. "I don't think 
so, Garak. Since we don't know what exactly Gabriel wants, I don't 
think we should take any unnecessary chances. I'll agree to keep the 
commander out of it, but you have to tell Odo the truth. You must 
tell him exactly what you told me this afternoon -"

"Doctor . . ." Garak's voice was pained. "*Must* we 
revisit `cocksucker'?"

Julian kept quiet until he was confident that he would not begin 
laughing. "I know it's rather embarrassing, Garak, but Odo will 
*not* help you if he suspects that you are deliberately misleading 
him. I'll go with you, as a witness of sorts. After all, you told me 
about all the difficulty you were having with the boy, so Odo would 
be hard-pressed to disbelieve you if I back you up. He'll be 
discreet, of course, and he'll likely only need threaten to go to 
the admiral to get Gabriel to cut out this nonsense."

"Perhaps . . . but he will likely want to see *that,*" Garak pointed 
toward the holovideo terminal. "And he may ask some very 
uncomfortable questions . . ."

Julian's eyebrows rose. "Such as?"

"Such as . . . had I done anything to invite this sort of . . . 
attention? Had I ever been alone with the young man? Do I have any 
desire to . . . to mate with human males? Have I given any 
indication that I be . . . aroused by the sort of material on the 
chip." Garak's eyes flicked to Julian's face and then away, almost 
before Julian had a chance to register the movement. "Am I quite 
sure these items were meant for me at all? And so on. As I'm sure 
you know, Odo is very thorough in his investigative techniques."

"True enough, but I wouldn't worry. As long as you answer his 
questions *honestly,*" Julian laid particular emphasis on that last 
word, "you'll be fine. After all . . . you've not encouraged Gabriel 
in any way . . ."

"Certainly not." 

". . . And you've not been alone with him except for in your shop in 
a professional capacity . . ."

"That's correct."

Julian nodded. "Right. And as for whether you enjoy watching this 
sort of thing . . ."

As with the past two queries-disguised-as-statements, Julian let 
this one trail off, expecting Garak to fill in the answer. But there 
was no reply forthcoming. Julian looked hopefully at the broad back 
of the tailor, shifting uncomfortably as an awkward silence spun 
out.  

"Well, even if you did like, erm, what you saw, that makes no 
difference." Julian was grateful that the low lights in the room hid 
his red face. "I mean, you didn't ask this to be foisted upon you, 
you know, but it's all right to like it. Odo will understand that, 
you'll see. It probably won't even come up - er, so to speak."

Julian was horrified at how completely his mouth was ignoring the 
strong signals from his brain to just shut up, but he couldn't seem 
to stop. Garak was just *standing* there, perfectly still - like a 
gray, ridged wall. "But if it does come up, and he does ask you how 
you responded, just be honest about it, and there will be no 
problem. No problem at all, because there isn't anything wrong with -
"

"It doesn't arouse me." Garak spoke so quietly that in his flurry of 
embarrassed speech, Julian almost missed it. "I find it rather 
distasteful, actually." 

". . . Oh." 

And Julian went quiet.

That was direct enough. Gabriel Townsmythe's sally had backfired, 
apparently. The holovid had stirred nothing in the Cardassian's 
soul - or anywhere else, for that matter, apparently. 

"Fine. That's . . . fine." Julian's voice was uncertain, but he 
attempted a jaunty smile. "There isn't a problem at all, then."

"Moreover, I don't understand how *humans* would be titillated by 
such a display," Garak went on as if Julian had not spoken. "It 
seems interesting enough on its face, but . . . I don't understand 
where the pleasure in this activity comes in. Human males actually 
derive enjoyment from having their penises abused in such a manner?"

Julian blinked. "Abused?"

"Yes. Abused." Garak gave the computer a command, and at once the 
holovid picked up where it left off, though the sound was 
considerably lower. "Look at the young man who is kneeling in the 
sand. The way he is gnawing at the other young man's flesh - is that 
not abuse? Or is human skin a good deal more resilient than it 
looks?"

Swallowing hard, Julian cast a sidelong glance at the screen. Not 
able to see much of anything that way, he took a deep breath and 
just faced forward, confident that he could view the holovid with as 
detached and calm a manner as Garak himself was doing.

"Garak, he's not *gnawing* at it. Nibbling a bit, maybe, but I doubt 
he's hurting him." 

Repeated exclamations of "God, god yeaaaaaaaaaah" from the man on 
the receiving end echoed in the small room, bearing out Julian's 
words. "Those *don't* sound like shrieks of pain to me."

"Also, why is the other young man jerking his mate's head from side 
to side?" Garak glared at the holographic images as if they were two 
schoolboys caught cheating on an exam. "You see? He just did it 
again - he grabbed the young man's hair and pulled his head to a 
different angle."

Julian studied the viewer, folding his hands in his lap in what he 
hoped was a casual manner. As impartial as his mind was attempting 
to be, much to his dismay, other parts of him were registering 
definite interest in what he was seeing. 

"He's just guiding him to where he wants to be stimulated. He's not 
attempting to hurt him purposely."

"Why doesn't he just *tell* him where he would like him to focus his 
attentions? It would be a lot less . . . abrupt."

"But it is much quicker for his partner to just *put* his head where 
he wants it to be. Besides, I don't think either of them are very 
capable of rational speech right now." 

At once, the perspective changed and more of the kneeling party came 
into focus. The man was fisting his cock at a rate of speed 
approaching warp, the purplish head shining with precome. Julian 
adjusted his hands in his lap and regretted it immediately as his 
fingers brushed over his increasingly stiffening flesh. Becoming 
more and more alarmed at the diminishing room in his pants, and  
Julian tried a trick that had worked a few times before when he'd 
faced a similarly embarrassing situation. Palming his cock, he gave 
the heavy, heated flesh three quick, fierce squeezes. It seemed 
counterintuitive, getting rid of an erection by giving it such close 
attention, but for whatever reason, it had always worked for him.

"Why is he doing that?" Julian jumped at Garak's voice close by his 
ear. He'd been so absorbed by what he was seeing, that he hadn't 
realized Garak come to sit next to him again. The Cardassian was 
practically sitting in his lap, which was bothersome, because 
Garak's nearness had the unwelcome effect of giving new life to his 
flagging erection. 

Julian kept squeezing, assuring himself, that whatever he was doing, 
he was *not* wanking himself in Garak's presence. He was simply 
trying to a handle on the situation, so to speak. "Ahh . . . doing 
what?" 

"Stroking himself. Shouldn't he wait for his mate to bring him to 
completion?"

"Ummm . . . well, some times the act of giving pleasure is 
pleasurable in and of itself, and a person can . . . reach orgasm 
while stimulating his partner. Or it could be just an unconscious 
reaction." The doctor bit down on his bottom lip as the man on the 
receiving end began to tremble, his cries becoming more insistent. 
Julian, desperate now, began squeezing with more intensity. "Also it 
could be awhile before his friend reaches his own orgasm -"

Julian watched in faint bemusement as the man in the cap wrenched 
himself free from the eager mouth. He fisted his slick erection for 
mere seconds, gasping as jets of creamy liquid sprayed from the tip 
of his cock, glazing the face of his partner. 

//I stand corrected.// 

Moments later, the other man rolled onto his back, stroking himself 
with a savage intensity. With his legs waving in the air like a 
toppled insect's, he brought himself off, his body jerking as pearly 
fluid fountained out of him. Above him, his spent partner watched 
avidly, murmuring words of encouragement as his lover rode out his 
orgasm, floundering in the sand.

The file, now having reached its end, faded into nothingness, and 
through a thin haze of arousal, Julian could hear the moderating 
breathing of Garak beside him. The doctor was moderately cognizant 
of his body returning to normal, but he wasn't completely out of the 
woods yet. 

"Well. That was certainly . . . short." Julian could feel the hard-
edged gaze warming the side of his face. "Doctor . . . are you all 
right?"

"I'm fine." Julian shifted again, damning the close fit of Starfleet-
regulation slacks and shivering at how near he came to leaving a 
stain on Garak's bed sheets. "Why do you ask?"

There was a pause. "Did this holovideo offend you?"

"Offend me? Well, no . . . not especially." Julian cast around for 
something more definitive to say, but everything that came to mind 
seemed woefully inappropriate. "But I can understand why it did 
nothing for you. It's one of the more uninteresting ones I've ever 
seen."

"So they are not all this way? I suppose that is encouraging." 
Another pause. "Did you find it arousing, then?"

Julian froze. The answer to the Cardassian's question was pushing 
out the front of his uniform, and Julian was reasonably certain that 
if he looked close enough, Garak would be able to make out just 
*how* affected he'd been by the holovid. Julian realized, however, 
that in the delicately asked question, Garak was allowing him a 
graceful way to avoid looking like a fool. He could say no, and 
Garak would accept it at face value, and all potential embarrassment 
would be avoided. 

On the other hand, Julian was aware that if he *did* lie, Garak 
would likely be able to discern that, and it would fly in the face 
of his prior assurances to the Cardassian that there was nothing at 
all wrong with being excited by that type of material.  

"It . . . yes." Julian shut his eyes, letting out a measured 
breath. "I found it arousing."

"Really?" The dry voice revealed nothing. "That's rather surprising. 
I would have thought that your sensibilities would have rejected the 
crudity of it."

Julian's eyes flew open. //I wonder . . . what does he think he 
knows about my "sensibilities"?// 

"Oh, it wasn't the best I've ever seen, but it had its moments." 
Julian shrugged. "A secluded beach . . . two handsome men throwing 
caution - and their clothing - to the wind . . . "

"And fellatio."

"Yes . . . that also." After an awkward pause, "My first year at 
Starfleet Medical, I had a roommate who had quite a large collection 
of erotica from all over the quadrant. Many different races, many 
different types of couplings. He was quite a connoisseur, and he was 
constantly watching some holovid or another - it was a marvel that 
he ever had time to *study.* There were times that I'd watch them as 
well - just for lack of anything better to do - and we'd laugh at 
the more outrageous scenarios." 

Julian blushed at the memory. He and his roommate also occasionally 
engaged in some friendly mutual masturbation during some of the more 
exciting Terran gay orgy scenes, usually when one or both of them 
were experiencing a dating dry spell, but Julian decided to leave 
that part out, lest Garak interpret that little postscript as an 
invitation. Not that he wouldn't have jumped at the chance to have 
Garak's assistance in getting his pants to fit properly again, but 
Julian acknowledged that this was probably not the best time to try 
to advance that particular agenda. 

"I understand. I appreciate your . . . elaboration, Doctor, and 
forgive me if I offended you by asking." 

"Not at all, Garak." Julian looked at him, trying to bleed the 
disappointment from his expression. "You really didn't enjoy this at 
all? Not even a little bit? I had thought that perhaps there might 
be some aspects of it that were familiar to you. After all, don't 
Cardassians do this sort of thing?"

"I'm afraid not, Doctor." For almost the first time since they'd 
begun talking, Garak looked uncomfortable. "Fellatio as humans 
practice it would likely be very painful for a Cardassian."

"Are you serious?" Julian had trouble imagining how something so 
wonderful, that felt so amazing could be painful to anyone. "In what 
way?"

"The penile scales are slightly raised when a Cardassian is 
aroused." Garak's eyes were lowered. "Semen is secreted from along 
the shaft itself, so the scales lift a bit to facilitate the 
distribution of the fluid. The intimate areas of a Cardassian woman 
contain an enzyme that `flattens' the scales while still allowing 
semen to be expelled. But if the penis were to come into contact 
with some  moist orifice that did not contain the enzyme - a mouth, 
to follow the fellatio example - there would be no protection for 
the scales, and the sliding motion would go against the grain . . ."

The doctor winced, comprehending. "Ouch."

"Indeed." Garak's voice was grave. "And in any case, Cardassian men 
much prefer a good neck ridge massage or to have our i'hen licked to 
any vigorous stimulation on our male members."

"Where is the i'hen?" Julian's eyes dropped. "Does it serve the same 
function as human testicles?"

"Ah . . . no." Garak chuckled and pointed to the spoon-shaped 
indentation in the middle of his forehead. "*This* is the i'hen, 
Doctor. It is highly sensitive to touch. Usually it is stroked 
during the final stages of intercourse. It hastens ejaculation."

Julian was quiet, lost in thought for several moments. "Garak . . . 
if only female Cardassians secrete the enzyme, and oral sex of any 
kind is pretty much out . . . then I assume that sexual activity 
between Cardassian men is an impossibility."

"Impossible? Not at all." Garak sounded surprised. "There are many 
ways in which two males can keep intimate company. In my experience, 
some involve considerably more effort than others, but it can be 
done."

Julian about to speak, but was stricken by the reality of Garak's 
casual statement. //In his experience?!// 

His mind raced. Was Garak talking *practical* experience? *Actual* 
experience? Experience with a male lover? Julian found the idea of 
Garak having been involved in such relationships - and that he was 
more or less admitting to it in such a casual fashion - as shocking 
as it was encouraging. 

As he was trying to work out a simple way of asking Garak to 
elaborate, the Cardassian rose and stood in the doorway of the 
bedroom. "Doctor, I do appreciate your attention, but it is 
late . . . Shall we have lunch tomorrow? There is the most 
fascinating Ferengi novel I found . . ."

Julian stood, too, his eyes blazing. He was well aware of what the 
Cardassian was doing; he'd done it so many times in the past . . . 
dangle a tantalizing tidbit of personal information, and then shut 
everything down just as Julian started to get a little closer.

"Garak, you can't just throw something like that out there and then 
push me out the door!" 

"I don't know what you mean, Doctor." Garak looked confused. "You 
don't think it is possible for a Ferengi novel *to* be interesting?"

"I'm not talking about the bloody novel. I'm talking about sex!" 
Julian was barely able to keep the exasperation out of his 
voice. "How *can* Cardassian males have sex with each other without 
hurting themselves? Just what are these mysterious `ways' of getting 
around the problem?"

//And how would *you* know? And how *well* do you know?//

"My dear Doctor," Garak pinned Julian with an inquisitive look. "I 
had no idea that such trivialities would interest you. Tell me - do 
you ask out of intellectual curiosity, or are you planning on 
seducing a Cardassian male?"

Julian had never experienced the phenomenon of his `life flashing 
before his eyes' although he'd had ample opportunity to do so, since 
he had been in more near-death situations than he liked to think 
about during his time on Deep Space Nine. But Garak's pointed 
question triggered a flood of memories in which Julian had been on 
the edge of asking Garak if he thought a relationship between the 
two of *them* would be possible. Over the years, the opportunity to 
at least pose the question had presented itself, but Julian had held 
back for one reason or another and while Garak had never seemed 
averse to such suggestion himself, but he'd never pressed the point.

In the silence that followed, the doctor studied the swirling 
patterns on the Cardassian's carpet debated the harm in just 
plunging in with, "Yes, Garak, I've often wanted to invite *you* to 
my bed, and I'd like to know what pleases you . . . and how *I* can 
please you."  

The worst that could happen would be Garak's rebuffing his advances. 
But the best that could happen . . . Julian quivered as his mind 
offered up examples of the best-case scenario . . .

But when he next looked at Garak, Julian's heart sank. The quietly 
speculative look was replaced with one of open amusement, and Julian 
realized his window of opportunity had passed once again. 

"Doctor, I was joking!" The Cardassian laughed. "Of course I'd be 
glad to answer any of your questions, just as you've been so kind in 
answering mine. But I truly *am* tired, and if I am to face the 
constable tomorrow, I'll need to be at my best."

"Of course. I suppose you have had rather a long day." Julian didn't 
trust himself to say more. He looked down at the carpet, away from 
the mysterious gleam in the blue depths, mentally flogging himself 
again for diddling away the opportunity to let Garak know how he 
felt.

"No need for apologies, Doctor. I wish we could continue this 
conversation, but I believe we'd both benefit from some rest. But -" 
Garak stopped short, appearing to be thinking something 
over. "But . . . perhaps I can give you something that might begin 
to satisfy your curiosity." 

Garak exited the bedroom, and Julian heard the sounds of drawers 
opening and closing. Seconds later, he returned, proffering a data 
rod.  "Here we are. This is quite old, but it should give you 
something of an idea of how my people conduct themselves during 
certain intimate moments."

Julian wasn't exactly sure what to say. "This is Cardassian 
pornography?"

"Why yes, Doctor. It is. And I doubt your Starfleet Medical school 
friend had anything quite like this in his collection." Garak was 
smiling. "It is actually a very rare copy that Dukat dropped while 
trying on a new cloak in my establishment. Strangely, I've not 
gotten around to returning it to him. Perhaps next time he visits, 
if he can tear himself away from the Dabo tables long enough, I will 
reunite him with his property . . . I'm sure he must miss it."

Julian palmed the data rod, uneasy at the thought of watching a 
pornographic holovideo that *Dukat* apparently had gotten off on one 
or one million times before. But implicit in Garak's statement was 
that he, too, had enjoyed it, and that alone was enough to calm 
Julian's misgivings. "Er, Garak . . . just how explicit is this?"

"Very, by Cardassian standards. It is called `Key of Palan.' It is 
one of the most famous of its genre, and one of the few that deals 
almost exclusively with intercourse between Cardassian males. It 
holds absolutely nothing back." The doctor wondered at Garak's 
fleeting smile. "But you tell me what you think, Doctor. Perhaps we 
can discuss it over an early lunch tomorrow?"

"Actually, I'd thought since lunch is the only time you and I have a 
free moment, we'd see Odo then, and talk about the Townsmythe boy." 

"Ah." There was a world of displeasure packed into that one 
syllable, and Julian ducked his head to hide a smile. "Well. That is 
an idea. Though I do not relish the idea of having to wait to 
discuss `Key of Palan' with you." 

"Hmm . . . In that case, we won't wait. Have dinner with me 
tomorrow." Julian paused to frame his next words as nonchalantly as 
possible.  "In my quarters. I think for this sort of *talk,* we'd 
need a good deal more privacy than the Replimat or Quark's would 
allow us." It wasn't exactly the quiet, quasi-romantic dinner 
invitation Julian had always envisioned extending to his Cardassian 
friend, but it would have to do. 

//Besides, a discussion about pornography is bound to be more 
interesting than one on those damned enigma tales of his!//

"I bow to your foresight, Doctor." Garak inclined his head. "I'd be 
delighted to join you then."

"Great! So we'll meet in front of your shop tomorrow at 1300, find 
Odo, and then we can nail down a time for dinner afterward?"

"That would be fine." Garak led Julian back through his living area 
and toward the front door. "I am already looking forward to it. 
Shall I bring anything?"

"No. Just yourself." Julian grinned suddenly. "And an open mind, I 
suppose."

Garak laughed low in his throat and pressed the door release 
panel. "You are in luck, dear Doctor. I have *that* in plentiful 
supply. But I trust you will have one, as well. What you are going 
to see on this data rod is really not at all like its Terran 
counterpart."

"I'll keep that in mind." Julian said as he walked through the 
doors. On the threshold, he paused, and turned to face the 
Cardassian, not quite able to shake the feeling that he was being 
shown the door for a reason other than Garak's professed fatigue.

"Garak . . . you truly *are* going to bed now, aren't you?" Julian's 
voice was soft. "You weren't planning on taking Gabriel up on his 
invitation . . . were you? I know you are annoyed, but under the 
circumstances, it would be very unwise to see him . . ."

Julian could have bitten off his tongue for asking the question, 
especially when he saw a brief, pained look flash across the 
tailor's face. 

//Oh, wonderful, Jules! Just as you're getting him to open up to 
you, you really put your foot in it!//

"Doctor, I assure you, I will not stir from my quarters." Garak said 
with a wounded dignity. "If you like, you are more than welcome to 
monitor my movements via the tracker in the Infirmary. An 
interesting device, that. And very effective, I'm sure."

"Of course I won't do that, Garak. I'm . . . I'm sorry. I shouldn't 
have asked." Julian felt like a simpleton. "I trust you, of course; 
I'm just concerned. This situation just has me a bit out of sorts."

"That would make two of us." Garak's smile was warm, and he placed a 
heavy, gentle hand on Julian's shoulder. "Doctor, I do appreciate 
your concern . . . and your confidence. And your trust." He squeezed 
Julian's shoulder with just a fraction more force than was 
comfortable before stepping back into his quarters. "Perhaps more 
than you will ever know."

Julian allowed himself a small sigh of regret when the doors closed 
in his face. His shoulder smarted a little where Garak had touched 
him, reminding the doctor of the all-too-brief contact. He was sure 
that he'd likely have some sort of bruise the next morning, but 
Julian didn't care . . . he wanted those hands back on him, and not 
stopping at the shoulder, either.

Suddenly aware of the data rod in his hand, Julian held it up to the 
light, his mind running wild with conjecture on what exactly he was 
going to see of Cardassian male sexuality. Julian wondered whether 
it would it be too ridiculous to assume that Garak had given him the 
data rod for purposes other than comparison and discussion? The 
doctor decided that he wouldn't get his hopes - or anything else - 
up before he could be certain, but even still, it was all he could 
do to keep from sprinting to his quarters to begin his "education."




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