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LaForge Please see Part 1 for summary and disclaimer ~~~ "Well, now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Julian was beaming as he and Garak strolled along the corridors of the Promenade, leisurely wandering through the post-lunch crowd. The aroma of food from all corners of the Promenade hung heavy in the air, and Julian's stomach growled in reminder that he had *not* spent the past hour in the company of a nice plate of Vulcan rahkti stew and I'danian spice pudding. Still, it had been worth giving up his lunch hour to stand by Garak's side as he laid his grievance at Odo's door. Julian had been more than impressed by Garak's calm, rational recital of the events leading up to the delivery of the holovid. And Odo had gone above and beyond his usual professionalism, asking only pertinent questions and taking copious notes while Garak spoke. The changeling seemed to sympathize with Garak's concern discomfort about the whole sorry business, and had put aside his own distrust of the Cardassian to give his complaint a thorough hearing. Julian reflected that Odo had been so focused on Garak, in fact, that he'd barely acknowledged his presence, only asking him if it were true that Garak had complained about Gabriel's behavior before receiving the chip. There had been a tense moment when Odo had actually taken a look at the incriminating holovid on his office's dataport, and appeared on the verge of losing his ability to maintain solid form. But after a minute, the shapeshifter had regained his composure, muttering something about the strangeness of humanoids. Julian hadn't said anything, but he did find it interesting that after Odo had done the initial DNA sweep to determine just who had handled the file, he hadn't offered Garak the holovid back. "I suppose it could have been worse." Garak slowed as they reached the door of his shop. "Let us just hope that the constable can deliver on his promise to be *very* persuasive during his talk with young Mr. Townsmythe." "Oh, I don't think you'll have to worry about that." Julian grinned at the memory of Odo's quietly menacing declaration to get to the `bottom of things.' "The Constable is a very capable man - I consider the matter already resolved." "Let us hope. So, now that this situation seems to be at an end," Garak released the security lock on the doors and turned to Julian with a smile, "does the invitation to dinner still stand?" "Absolutely. Would 1900 hours be all right?" "That sounds fine." Garak looked around for a moment before moving closer. "And may I assume that you have watched `Key of Palan'?" Julian's smile dropped. He'd hoped that Garak wouldn't bring that up until later; Julian was sure that by the time dinner rolled around, he'd have all of his reasons for disliking the film intensely in place. "Ah, yes . . . but I'm afraid I was only able to finish the first, erm, five hours." //And whoever heard of a porn holovid that lasted over eight hours? Only on Cardassia!// "May I ask your initial impression of it?" The doctor all but gulped. He'd had a *definite* impression of Garak's holovid, but it wasn't one he thought the tailor would appreciate. And there was no way that he could look into the dazzling blue eyes right then and tell him that he'd found this offering of Cardassian erotica to be rather . . . lacking. "Well, again, I haven't completed it, but what I saw was interesting." Julian pumped up his smile and tried to infuse his voice with enthusiasm. "It was very detailed . . . I found the scenes of Cardassia Prime compelling . . . the landscape was lush and beautiful, and . . . the acting was very, very good." "In other words, my dear Doctor," Garak's smile was stronger than ever, "you despised it utterly." A denial sprang instantly to Julian's lips, but the glittering sapphire eyes warned him not to even waste time voicing it. "I wouldn't say I *despised* it, Garak - I haven't finished it, after all. But I'll admit that what I have so far seen was not exactly what I was expecting." "This is very interesting, Doctor - you loathe `The Never-ending Sacrifice,' and now you are unmoved by `Key of Palan.' Those are two of the most loved works in their respective genres. Most educated Cardassians consider both to be masterpieces." Julian managed a shrug, relieved that Garak didn't seem offended. "I didn't *hate* it, just as I didn't *hate* `The Never-ending Sacrifice.' It's just that by Terran standards, `Key of Palan' would be a very nice, er, documentary study about Cardassia during the Occupation, but nothing more than that. And I'll admit that there are some aspects of it that truly baffle me." //Such as, where in the world is the sex?// "Well I will be quite happy to enlighten you. There *are* some subtleties that perhaps could do with further explanation." Garak's face loomed suddenly closer, and for one brief, insane, hopeful moment, Julian thought the Cardassian was going to kiss him. "Until 1900, Doctor. And once again, thank you for all your assistance today with the constable." "Assistance?" With effort, Julian tore his gaze away from the spare, but enticing, gray mouth. "But I didn't do anything except *stand* there." "That was more than enough." Garak turned to enter his shop, glancing over his shoulder as he went. "I don't think I'd have been able to endure the constable's questions with a straight face if I hadn't had you and your continuously growling stomach by my side to distract me." The doors swished closed behind the tailor, and with a rueful smile, Julian headed back to the Infirmary, poking his now-silent stomach in amused self-conscience. ~~ Julian always felt a bit ill at ease whenever he had a friend in his quarters for dinner. Granted, he hadn't `entertained' anyone privately since he'd stopped seeing Ensign Janet Singh a few months ago, but he'd had enough experiences with `intimate' dinners to still be nervous about them, even if they were on `home turf.' The truth was, Julian didn't know quite what to expect in this evening with Garak. They were going to share a meal and talk over a Cardassian work, which was just about the extent of their normal socialization. Except here the meal was in Julian's private quarters and the work in question was one of Cardassian homoerotica, which made the doctor feel in danger of becoming overwhelmed. Julian was hoping that this wouldn't turn out to be one of their usual debates that would end with Garak saying something maddeningly enigmatic and his wondering when he'd lost control of the conversation. As dinner progressed, however, Julian was relieved to note that this get-together had a completely different flavor their usual lunchtime chats. They sat at Julian's small dinner table lingering over plates of fettuccini Alfredo, conversing animatedly and easily. Julian's sides hurt from laughing so hard at the stories Garak told about his most recent `interesting' customers. The doctor felt a twinge of sympathy for some of the crew members whose dirty laundry was being aired - so to speak - albeit discreetly by the tailor. Julian got over it quickly as Garak went into detail about universal translator malfunctions, strange fitting room behavior, and a very scary image - "I believe Quark called the undergarment he was wearing a . . . Speedo?" It had taken Julian several long sips of wine to dispel the picture that one sentence had placed in his mind. His eyes eagerly fixed to Garak's face, Julian hung on every word, reflecting that he'd not had such an enjoyable evening in a long time - outside of a few interesting outings with attractive and interesting crew members, perhaps. And even counting those, his night with Garak was shaping up to be more pleasant than even his most successful dates. //Date?! This . . . this isn't a date.// Julian took refuge in his wine glass, trying to shake off the sudden nervousness that descended upon him. In moments, his mind rallied. //Oh, come on, Jules, what are you playing at? You've wanted to bring him here for years. The lights are at 35 percent, you've replicated a meal straight out of a Tuscan holonovel, and you made sure that you were wearing clean underwear. Maybe you didn't *call* it a date, but you know exactly what this is. The question is . . . does Garak?// "Doctor, this was delightful." Garak smiled into his empty plate. "It is a Terran dish?" "Yes, Italian. It's one of my favorite meals," Julian said, twining the last of his pasta onto his fork. "I haven't had it in ages . . . it's much too rich and heavy for me to have it any more often than once every few months or so." "I concur." Garak leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. "You are an amazingly good host, my dear Doctor, but I fear the waistband of my trousers might hate you for it." "I guess dessert's out then?" "For now, I think that would be wise, else you'll need to roll me back to my quarters." Garak smiled lazily. "I think now would be the perfect time for food for thought, actually. `Key of Palan,' Doctor?" "Of course. I already have the data rod set up in the reader." Julian stood and began gathering the dirty plates, making a negative gesture when Garak started to follow suit. "Don't you dare, Mr. Garak. Off to the couch with you. I'll have all this straightened out in a few moments." Julian mock-glared Garak over to the sofa, turning away only when the tailor had settled in and made himself comfortable among the pillows. As Julian fed the dirty dishes into the cleansing unit, he came to a decision about how the `talk' about `Key of Palan' would go. He'd simply listen while Garak lectured about how this particular piece was an essential work in Cardassian society and how it illustrated all that was good and perfect about Cardassian, and so on, nod when it seemed appropriate, and as quickly as possible, change the subject. Julian was not going to let the evening degenerate into a pointless squabble - not if he could help it. With all the dishes safely stowed in the unit, Julian nervously wiped his hands on the front of his pants and went to join Garak. He wavered for a moment between sitting on the chair opposite the sofa or on the sofa itself, next to Garak. But when the Cardassian looked up at his approach, smiled and patted the space right next to him, Julian's choice was made. "All right." Julian angled himself to face his guest, blushing when their knees brushed together. "Now, about `Key of Palan.' I truly *did* find it interesting, Garak, but one thing I really had no clear understanding of was -" "Doctor, before you begin, there is something I feel must say." Garak sounded almost contrite. "I've given this a great deal of thought since our conversation earlier today, and I've come to the conclusion that I was remiss in giving you this particular holovideo without more explanation. More background, if you will. It is little wonder that you found it confusing." Julian was floored. Never before had Garak ever *apologized* for not giving him more information before passing on one of his Cardassian cultural gems; he always assumed that an educated being, no matter what the species, would be able to `get' every nuance of a Cardassian work. Julian was pleased, however - Garak's words seemed to imply that he, too, wanted to keep this conversation on an even keel. "It's quite all right, Garak. I *was* able to follow most of it. Though, I'm curious - what do you think I should have known before watching it?" "Well, first of all, `Key of Palan' is the only a part of a greater work. To be precise, it is the third installment in a series of eight," Garak replied. "The series chronicles the life of one man - Jurvak - from birth until his death at age 80. Each installment covers a span of ten years in Jurvak's life. Jurvak's story is more a moral tale than anything else, and a subtle attempt by Central Command to drum up support for the Occupation, which, oddly was rather low in the first years of the Bajoran excursion. "In the first installment - `Child of Palan' - Jurvak's father, a poor farmer in the pitiful community of Palan, is conscripted into the Bajoran occupational force and dies on Bajor while protecting a convoy of troops on their way to a mine. After the death, Jurvak and his family are allotted the respect and pension befitting the family of a `hero.' Jurvak is allowed to attend preparatory educational centers in the capital - something he would not have been able to do as the child of a simple farmer." Garak's voice was appropriately sarcastic. "In the second installment, `Return to Palan,' Jurvak at age 20, has completed studies at Central University, and is a Glinn in the reserve forces of the Cardassian military. He becomes vice governor and mobilizes the community to increase its output of produce to the occupational forces. In `Key of Palan,' he is 30, and his power and influence have become so great that he has made Gul - almost unheard of for a man of his young age. Palan becomes a model for other communities for its dedication to supporting the military effort on Bajor, and Jurvak's star continues to rise." A very simple tale, really, though hardly based in reality. On Cardassia, there were several poor young men - women, too - who lost family members in some offworld skirmish or another. I can assure you that *none* of them received the tender care afforded Jurvak." Garak's brilliant smile contrasted starkly with the bitter look in his eyes. "But, I digress, Doctor. Please tell me - in as much detail as you feel comfortable - just what puzzled you." "Well, um, what I *really* found a little hard to follow were the scenes in Jurvak's office." Julian frowned. "I'll admit I didn't get any farther than that, but then I had no idea that it was going to be so lengthy." "It is a bit long, but that is by design. This film was sanctioned by Central Command in an attempt to drum up support for the Occupation, which, to tell you the honest truth, Doctor, was woefully low in the first years of our stay on Bajor." "That *is* surprising." Julian looked at his guest. "I'm not sure what is more baffling - that Cardassians weren't supportive of the occupation at the outset or that Central Command would put its stamp of approval on a pornographic holovideo." "It had to be rather explicit, Doctor . . . otherwise, *who* would spend the time watching it?" "Fair point." Julian leaned over and called up the video reader console embedded in the living room table. "It is queued to the part where I began to . . . not follow what was going on. Perhaps you can explain to me just what it is that is happening." Julian sat gingerly on the edge of the couch as the holovid began its playback. Startlingly three-dimensional forms hovered above the reader and over the area around the small table. It was almost as if one were really on the sandy, yellow soil of Cardassia Prime, looking out at the sweeping landscapes and impressive buildings of the larger cities, and the sprawling, lush greenery in the small farming town of Palan. In minutes, the picture changed to one of a sumptuous office in the city center. At a large mahogany desk was the main character - this Jurvak fellow - poring over a pile of documents. Seated across the desk as his aide, a man called Tijed. Jurvak was tall, broad-shouldered, lean-limbed and had an enticing smile. His jet-black hair was slicked back in typical Cardassian fashion and he wore clothing that fit his frame well, showing off impressive muscles and flawless posture. Gazing at this representation of a `true son of the state,' Julian had more than a vague suspicion that Garak looked exactly the same at 30, and he wondered if the actor portraying the main character had aged anywhere near as well as the tailor by his side. Tijed was much less impressive, both in the physical and intellectual sense. He reminded Julian a bit of Dukat, actually, with the hard-edged cast to his features and an almost smarmy air of self-importance. Tijed was trying to impress his superior with his vast and tiresome knowledge on crop rotation and weather cycles, but it was clear that this character believed that speaking loudly and relentlessly was a fair substitute for speaking intelligently. Julian reclined carefully back on the sofa, tuning out much of the prattle between the two main characters in favor of casting surreptitious glances at Garak. That activity soon proved to be more entertaining than the holovid; the Cardassian's attention was totally captured by the holovideo, giving Julian the sneaking suspicion that he had been all but forgotten. At certain points in the dialogue, Garak chuckled, even though there wasn't anything remotely funny that Julian could understand. At other times, Garak looked almost wistful, and at still other times, he had a slender, secretive smile on his lips as if he and the two characters were in on some private joke. "Garak . . . I do have to ask - do Cardassians generally talk so much before they tumble into bed together?" Julian studied the tailor's profile. "They've been at this for nearly five solid hours. And I don't think I've heard one mention of sex at all. I'm confused as how they will go from talking about crop rotation to groping each other with no apparent segue." "Doctor, I don't recall very much in the way of preliminaries in the charming Terran holovideo *I* saw," Garak's voice was deprecating. "The two young men met on the beach. The one in the ridiculous hat commented to the other, `I think I'm lost.' To which the other young man replied, `Well, let me see if can find your hard- on.' Fellatio commenced, and soon afterward, all was over." "Oh, yes, they are notoriously devoid of any meaningful dialogue." Julian snickered as much at Garak's bland recital of the exchange as at the actual words themselves. "But that is because people want to get to the action. One generally doesn't watch pornography for an intellectual discourse." "I gathered. Ah - and speaking of discourse, Jurvak and Tijed's appear to be at an end." Julian turned his attention back to the screen in time to see both men rise from their chairs, and *still* conversing with each other, begin to undress. //Ah . . . now we're getting somewhere. But did it really need to take five hours?// The disrobing took mere seconds, almost as if their clothing had been transported away, and they stood naked, regarding each other narrowly. Jurvak said something; Tijed replied. Jurvak responded to the reply; Tijed spoke again. And on it went for another ten minutes. Julian, for his part, was silent as a mouse. His first thought upon his first extended look at Cardassian physique outside a medical context was that the scales didn't go down quite as far as he'd thought. The neck ridges sloped into the cap of the shoulders, and there was a pattern of ridging along the legs, but the rest of the body was the same smooth, cool, unadorned gray. That was all very well and good, but what really drew Julian's attention was the ridged column swaying heavily between Jurvak's legs. The man's cock reached halfway down his muscled thigh and was about as wide as the baseball bat Sisko kept in his office. Delicate, iridescent scales rimmed the head and fanned out along the shaft, spiraling along the base. It was quite stunning, making the appendage look more like some shimmering, mutable piece of artwork. Julian was impressed, but the thought of something so large making its way into his body made him squirm - and not in a good way. "Uh . . . Garak, are most Cardassian men, er, I mean . . . do many have such a large . . ." "Sadly, no, Doctor. Jurvak is *singularly* gifted in that regard." Immensely relieved, Julian nodded. "Tijed isn't exactly ungifted himself." "I've noticed." Watching as the two men approached each other and began running their hands along each other's neck ridges, Julian squinted. Rubbed his eyes. Squinted again. "Neither of them appear to be particularly . . . eager. Does it take some time for Cardassians to get an erection?" There was no immediate response. A glance over gave Julian the answer to Garak's lack of attention. Garak was balanced precariously on the edge of the couch, his mouth slightly open and his hands clenching the cushions. Julian was sure that if he looked into Garak's eyes at that moment, he'd see a glazed quality to the normally lucid depths. There was no mistaking it - the Cardassian was completely engrossed by what he was watching - and quite possibly, a little more than that. "Garak . . .?" Julian raised his voice a fraction. "Garak? Hello?" "I'm sorry, Doctor." Garak yanked at the collar of his tunic. "You were saying?" "An erection . . ." Julian edged subtly closer, encouraged by the heat radiating from the man beside him. "Neither of them are hard, as yet. Is that normal?" "It is. A Cardassian penis will not become stiff until nearly the point of ejaculation. It is then that we penetrate our partners and complete the sex act." Julian mulled this a moment, coming to a couple of disheartening conclusions. "So, in other words, actual *intercourse* lasts . . ." "Upwards of two minutes." Garak favored him with a chagrined smile. "I'm aware that in most cultures, that is *most* distressing. But Cardassians understand that there is even greater pleasure to be derived from all that leads up to consummation." Julian followed Garak's gaze. Jurvak *did* seem to be enjoying himself. He and Tijed had adjourned to a large chair in the middle of the office, the older Cardassian reclining in the arms of the younger, thrashing as Tijed assaulted his neck ridges with nibbles and licks. Julian was somewhat surprised by the tenderness of the caresses - he'd assumed that Cardassians liked things quite a bit rougher than was being shown. It was all rather nice, Julian reflected, but there was an element to the video that was quickly trying his patience. "Why in all hells is Jurvak still speaking about the crop rationing?" Julian viewed the events with a critical eye, annoyed that the older man's chatter was drowning out Tijed's small, sensuous growls. "That seems a little rude to continue talking business while being pleasured." "Doctor, how little you know about a Cardassian's idea of romance," Garak was gently chiding. "But perhaps I should not be so surprised. After all, *your* species seems to consider splashing one's bodily fluid in his partner's face the highest form of sentimentality." "Garak, believe me - what you saw on Gabriel's holovid does *not* represent a typical human's ideal of romance." There was a pause. "Well, all right. It doesn't represent *mine.*" "I'll take you at your word." Garak didn't sound convinced. "But to answer your question, Jurvak is trying to stave off his erection. He wants this to last, Doctor - for much his sake as for Tijed's. When two males mate, there is a hormonal chain of reaction that occurs the moment one of those men becomes erect. The other then becomes erect, as well. Orgasm is eminent then, and then all is over. The longer Jurvak and Tijed can keep from reaching that point, the longer they can . . . enjoy one another." "I understand that . . . but, really, Garak . . . *crop* rationing?" "If Jurvak talks about something completely inconsequential, he can take his mind off peaking too soon, while still enjoying Tijed's attentions." Julian laughed. "Human men do that, too! Though we usually keep our monologues internal. I think I would have been roundly slapped if I'd begun expounding on the latest research on rhinoviruses in the Telarus system while in the middle of a blowjob." "Mmm. I can imagine." Garak's focus was wholly taken up again by the events playing out before them, and sighing Julian made an effort to pay closer attention. Now Tijed was on the receiving the special attention on his ridges and scales. Jurvak seemed to employ a much firmer touch on his younger lover, almost slapping the ridged areas of Tijed's body as he nibbled his way down. When Jurvak's tongue probed a circular patch of scales at Tijed's hip, the younger man cried out, and Garak made a rather interesting noise low in his throat. "Garak, is there something wrong?" "Not at all." His voice was strained. "You'll excuse me, Doctor . . . I've not watched this in some time. I'd forgotten how much . . . how much I enjoy the . . . the furnishings in Jurvak's office." A sound issued from Garak's lips that sounded suspiciously like a moan. "Most . . . hmmmmm . . . impressive." Jurvak was speaking even louder now, and there was definite movement between his legs. Slowly, Jurvak's dormant cock was coming to life, rising from the thatch of scales at its base to tower above his stomach. Tijed, sporting a very healthy erection himself, immediately came round to face his lover, kneeling between his knees and smearing some sort of ointment carefully along the shaft. "That, Doctor, is one of our ancient Cardassian secrets," Garak murmured. "The cream Tijed is applying to Jurvak is a synthesized form of the enzymes females secrete during intercourse. Jurvak will now be able to enter Tijed without his scales being ripped apart in the process." "Clever. So it's a lubrication of a sort?" "Of . . . of a sort. Mm. But it also . . . oh . . . is a protectant . . . that . . . that . . ." Garak gave up all attempt at speech, and Julian, too, found his whole attention concentrated on the viewer. Tijed was straddling Jurvak's thighs, lowering himself on the gleaming gray pillar. Tijed's face was a mix of lust and concentration as he continued to spit himself upon his lover's throbbing cock. Julian reflected that Cardassians must be quite a bit more flexible than humans, because there was no way that something that large could be accommodated quite so easily by a typical human male. With a speed that impressed Julian as much as it disturbed him, Tijed had buried his lover completely inside him, with Jurvak settling his hands on Tijed's hips. In moments, Jurvak's own hips were rocking upward in that refreshingly universal motion enjoyed throughout the galaxy, no matter what the species, what the customs, or what the barriers. "Sweet Guls . . ." Garak's fervent, hushed whisper sent a series of delightful shivers down Julian's back. Sadly, he couldn't really say the same for the holovid. The sex seemed quite intense, and the sight of Jurvak's massive prick pistoning in and out of Tijed's snug channel was arousing, but Jurvak was *still* talking about farming concerns. Irrigation, this time. His new train of conversation went on for perhaps 20 seconds before it seemed that Tijed might have had enough of Jurvak's incessant speech. The younger man twisted around, reaching up to vigorously rub the center of his lover's forehead. The reaction both from Jurvak and Garak was immediate. Jurvak stopped speaking at last, and cried out something that the translator didn't even attempt to render sensible. Garak expelled a harsh breath and drew in another, mumbling something under his breath that Julian could not make out. Tijed, too, soon began to flail, jerking bonelessly on Jurvak's lap. Julian watched in amazement as the silver scales of Tijed's cock began to turn a bluish color. Cobalt liquid dribbled from beneath them, coating the length and dripping down onto his thighs. "Oh . . ." Julian turned in time to see Garak's head loll limply back on a cushion. "*My,* that was . . . entertaining." As all of the Cardassians both holographic and actual caught their breaths again, Julian held himself perfectly still, more than a little awed at how *aware* he was at that moment - aware of everything. Aware of the sated look of the two Cardassians as they uncoupled and began cleaning themselves. Aware of the warmth of Garak's knee pressed against his own. Aware of the Cardassian's ragged breathing. Aware that rapidly his own breathing was becoming a little uncertain. Aware that he was becoming unrepentantly turned on watching Garak become turned on in his presence. And Julian was painfully aware that the time had come at last for the excuses to stop. Here was opportunity staring him in the face once more, daring Julian not to let it pass again. "Garak . . ." Julian wet his lips. "Does this holovideo . . . offend you?" "Offend me? Not in the slightest, Doctor." Garak took another deep breath. "This is one of Cardassia's most celebrated works of erotica, after all. There are very few Cardassians who are unmoved by it." "I see." Julian hesitated. "So . . . you were aroused by it, then." "Well, I . . ." There was a sharp intake as Garak went immediately silent. Julian felt the couch shift as Garak turned to face him. The doctor could almost see the gears whirring in his companion's head, piecing everything together, drawing certain conclusions. He looked for all the world like an animal who sensed danger in the air, but there was a self-assured quality to his expression, as if he anticipated that *he* was not going to be so easily trapped. "Yes, Doctor. I do find it quite arousing, though, of course, knowing something of Terran erotica, I can understand your lack of enthusiasm about it," he replied evenly. "I despair to think that I have Dukat to thank for it coming into my possession, but as you well know, beggars cannot be choosers." The welcome image of Garak begging for, well, anything, nearly sent Julian off the couch. He mentally righted himself before going on. "Garak, last night when you said to me that on Cardassia, there were ways in which men could make love to each other . . . you seemed to imply that you yourself had some . . . some . . . intimate knowledge of this." The Cardassian stared at him. Blinked. Smiled. Julian tentatively returned the smile, then hastily ordered his features into a neutral expression. He didn't want to tip his hand, yet he had the distinct impression that he'd done just that from the moment he asked the question. "If you are asking if I've had male lovers, the answer is yes, Doctor." Garak motioned toward the holovid console. "As you can see, there is no real taboo on Cardassia about intimacy between men. In fact, it is encouraged among fledgling officials who have not yet married. Central Command considers sex between its young officers a marvelous bonding experience . . . a way of fostering camaraderie, as it were." "That's an interesting way of boosting morale to the ranks." Julian smiled briefly before growing serious again. "Is that the extent of your knowledge in that sphere? A few *bonding* sessions with a fellow Cardassian foot soldier? You've never been with a . . . a non- Cardassian before? A Bajoran, perhaps? Or a Tholian? Klingon, maybe?" Julian waited a second before plunging forward. "Or even a Terran?" That came out much clumsier than Julian had intended, and he looked down at his hands, blushing furiously. "Or . . . anyone else at all?" The silence was immediate and lengthy. Julian studied the backs of his hands while feeling as if he were about to choke on his heartbeat. //Wonderful! Of all the times for him to stop talking!// "No, Doctor. I have never had an off-world lover, male or otherwise. On Bajor, I tended to my duties . . . unlike a *certain* Gul of our acquaintance who felt it necessary to ravish any and every orifice in his path. I've had very little dealings with Tholians, though I find them a fascinating race. I will *cheerfully* ignore your query about Klingons." Garak's voice was measured enough as he continued. "And as for Terrans . . . well, let us just say I have had . . . thoughts. Not occasioned by the Townsmythe boy, mind you. These thoughts of mine date back quite some years." "They do?" Julian fought for calm. //Don't pounce, Jules. Don't bloody pounce . . .// "Please elaborate." "I'd . . . rather not, Doctor. These thoughts of mine are just that - thoughts. I have little need to torture myself, after all." Garak turned slightly away from him. "The person of whom I speak has made it quite clear that he has no desire for that sort of union with me." Desperately trying to heed his mental command to not pounce on his companion and demonstrate just what sort of *union* he desired, Julian decided to proceed carefully. It wasn't completely out of the way to assume that Garak was referring to him, but if he'd learned anything about Garak it was that even the most basic assumptions often didn't apply. "How do you know what he wants, Garak? Have you ever asked him?" "That would have been foolish. It is quite clear that he is interested only in women, though admittedly he has not confined his interest to Terran females. Were I female, I flatter myself that I might have a chance." "Maybe you've only seen him with women," Julian countered, his confidence growing by the second, "but how do you know that he's only interested in them? He might have had occasion to experiment in the past with men . . . in college, perhaps. Maybe the reason that he hasn't been seen in the company of a man is because he has his eyes on one in particular - you. And he'd not been entirely sure that you would be open to the idea." Garak considered this, but shook his head. "I would think that I would have been able to discern that level of interest." "Your intuition is acute, but not infallible, Garak," Julian said gently, daring to lay a hand on the tailor's arm. "This man of whom you speak might have been trying his damndest to get you interested, but just didn't have the faintest clue just how to go about it. You've often said you don't entirely grasp the nuances of Terran culture . . . he is more than likely just as uncertain about the Cardassian way of going about things. Courting, and all that.." "That could be." Julian was sure that Garak's artfully reflective expression was a cover. "As you and I have often discussed, Terran and Cardassian cultures are annoyingly dissimilar. Though, to follow up on your conjecture, if his feelings for me were in any way . . . tender, what would have prevented him from approaching me directly? There are no rituals with Cardassians - none that cannot be dispensed with, in any case. And Terrans are refreshingly direct about their feelings. There can be no misinterpreting a simple, `Garak, I want very much to see you without your trousers.' Or . . . words to that effect. I *would* have gotten the message." "Without your trousers?" Julian smiled in spite of himself. "That would be direct, certainly." "But, this is all simply conjecture, however, Doctor." Garak sighed. "Even if this . . . certain individual of whom I speak had - in the past - any thoughts of pursuing something more . . . something more . . . simply something *more,* with me, I am sure that the desire on his part is gone, and the opportunity on my part is gone, as well." And there it was again. The opening. The snippet of time in which Julian knew he could end all this talking around each other forever. He had the vaguest notion that he could very well be stepping into territory he was in no way prepared for. But what Julian was also sure of, was that at that moment, his own walls were down. He had no choice but to look into the intense blue of Garak's eyes. And meeting that gaze, there was no way the doctor could hide his thoughts. The time for pretty words and sly glances and wistful sighs was at an end. Julian knew that he could forgive himself all the missed opportunities in the past if he just took this one chance right now. "Garak . . . what if you were to discover that the desire *was* still there . . . and the opportunity, as well?" Julian was finding it hard to speak above the pounding in his ears. "And that he's just been too damned timid about letting you know that he's been fantasizing about you for nearly four years. What then?" Garak's eyes searched Julian's face for several long minutes, and then sought out the ceiling. "What then . . . an interesting question. I will have to think on that." Julian's brow creased. That had not been the answer he'd thought he would get. Sure, it sounded promising enough, but it was so damn vague. Couldn't Garak do things the Terran way for a change and be direct? And . . . wait . . . why was Garak standing? And looking toward the front door? //What the -// "Doctor, as usual, your company has been diverting, but I must be going. The captain is gracing me with his presence tomorrow at 0700, and I will need to be at my sharpest." "You're leaving? Now? Right this moment?" Julian struggled to his feet, not able to get his mind around the sudden change, both in Garak's demeanor and in the current state of affairs. One moment, Garak seemed seconds away from coming in his well-pressed pants and they were speaking in veiled terms about Garak's desire for a certain Terran and a certain Terran's desire for a certain tailor . . . and the next, Garak was rushing for the exit as if being pursued by a Gerfleten stingray. "But . . . but . . . Garak . . . what about . . . don't you want to finish the holovid?" "I wouldn't think you'd be interested in the rest, Doctor." In one deft motion, he plucked the rod from the reader and stored it in some hidden pocket of his tunic. "The remaining two hours, Jurvak gives a rather heavy-handed speech on loyalty to the state to the people of Palan. Even *I* skip that part. And it is getting late . . ." Garak walked to the door, followed only by Julian's forlorn stare. What had just happened there? One moment, he and Garak were seemingly clearing up the misconceptions that had kept them from jumping on each other years ago. And now, it was if nothing at all had been said! The doctor torn between humiliation, anger, sadness. But as reality sank in, the humiliation won out. He'd taken the chance, opened himself up . . . and Garak had read him, and was now leaving. Leaving! //Jules, you are an idiot. A bloody idiot!// Julian's dinner roiled in his stomach as Garak retreated further and further away from him. What had he been thinking? Recent events themselves would have gone against the assumption that Garak was interested in him or had ever been. Garak's dislike of the Townsmythe boy . . . his distaste at the sight of Terran porn . . . his complete lack of interest at the spirited way in which two beautiful human males had brought each other off. Julian swore beneath his breath. Maybe he'd been curious about Terran sexuality in the past, maybe Garak had even wanted *him* in the past, but apparently he'd not been joking when he'd said he'd gotten over all that! What caught Garak's attention, what made him make those delightful sounds low in his throat, what made him squirm, what made him forget everything else around him were *Cardassian* men. And why not? Julian shook his head in dismay. Garak was Cardassian, after all. He'd had Cardassian lovers . . . was aroused by Cardassian cock and the Cardassian way of fucking. Nothing human could compare to that - cock size alone was an indication of that - so, of course, nothing *human* would do. "I cannot thank you enough for dinner." Garak was at the doorway. "I did not know that watching `Key of Palan' with someone else could be so . . . invigorating. I do hope I answered your questions satisfactorily." "Perfectly." Julian mumbled, his eyes on the floor. "Goodnight then, Garak. I enjoyed our . . . evening." The doctor was conscious, even through his fog of misery, that he was not lying about that. Though it didn't end up anywhere close to what he'd hoped, he had derived immense pleasure from the Cardassian's company. He was silently thankful that at least their friendship would be intact. The doctor didn't even want to imagine what might have occurred if he'd been more aggressive. //Thank god for small favors, I suppose. I refrained at least from making a complete ass of myself.// "Please do comm me tomorrow if you are free for lunch, Doctor." Garak replied. "Don't think I am letting you off without a discussion of the `Ten Pale Marks of Kreyta.' I am sure that you have a great deal to say about it - especially when Kreyta expounds on his visit to Earth." "I can hardly wait." Julian wasn't even sure he knew what book Garak was talking about. All he wanted was for the Cardassian to leave already so that he could retire to his bedroom, bring himself off, and begin the wretched process of forgetting that this night had ever happened. He braced himself for the unwelcome sound of the doors opening and shutting, going over in his mind all that he had said and done that night, dissecting his every move, second-guessing. If he'd feigned more interest in Garak's holovideo, would that have made a difference? Was he too awkward in bringing up his feelings? Julian could not believe that after all this, he'd simply missed his chance. That was just not possible. There had to have been something silly that he'd done to put the Cardassian off. After a few minutes of internal harangue, Julian realized that he had not heard the door open, let alone close, and when he looked up, he did a double-take, staring in confusion. The Cardassian was still at the door, simply standing there, regarding him calmly. "Garak . . . is there a problem?" "Not at all, Doctor. It just occurred to me, however, that I do believe I have an answer to your previous question." There was a pause. "If, by chance, I were to discover that my advances would not be repulsed . . . and if I *were* to receive the happy news that my Terran friend was interested in my company in something above a platonic level . . . I would hope that his interest would still be present, hmm . . . five days or so from now." Julian blinked, not trusting the note of promise contained in Garak's voice. "Five days from now?" "Yes. I believe that is sufficient enough time for me to place an order with Quark and for certain . . . materials to reach this station." Garak said. "Materials that I - like Jurvak - would require in order to pleasure my Terran admirer the way I've dreamed of doing since the minute I laid eyes on him. Materials that would allow him to pleasure me, as well - without fear of any unfortunate mishaps." Julian didn't answer. Didn't move. Wasn't even sure he could get his mouth to work correctly at the moment. He just looked at the man standing in his doorway, hardly believing what he was hearing. He held his breath, afraid that if he made the slightest move, Garak would stop talking and truly leave without saying anything more. "And I'd hope," Garak went on softly, "That he would understand that if I'd had such items at my disposal at this moment, there would be nothing at all that would prevent me from taking him into my arms this second. You see, I'd rather given up on hoping . . . and if there is a cause for me to rejoice in my patience, well . . . I want to be sure that I take every precaution to make it as fulfilling for him as it would be for myself. Garak's subsequent smile was almost shy. "That is . . . if he were not put off by the realities of Cardassian stamina in regards to actual intercourse, and other . . . peculiarities. Though I could assure him that I would not spend hours discussing the state of agriculture on Cardassia." Julian gaped at the elegant face, blushing when Garak turned to look at him fully, a question sparking in those hooded eyes. //Oh, right. I suppose I should say something.// "I think . . . all things considered, five days wouldn't matter in the grand scheme of things." Julian hesitated a moment. "And as for the other concern . . . well, I can only speak for myself, of course, but there is a great deal more to making love than . . . just that. And also like Jurvak, I enjoy the build-up just as much. I would think that there'd be more concern that *you* might not take to some Terran sexual practices. Er . . . like . . . like . . ." "Cock-sucking, Doctor?" Garak's mouth curved into a teasing smile. "Well. I am a highly adaptable man. I think that I'd be more than willing to try it, if *he* were to be patient with me and understand that I might need to perform it again and again and again until I was satisfied that I was pleasing him adequately." //That's it; I'm poring over the database . . . there has to be something in them that might remedy the situation. I can't wait five bloody days!// "The thing about that, Garak," Julian said, moving to stand at Garak's side, "is that the sooner you start practicing, the better a chance you have of becoming quite skilled at it. I believe it is probably the same with the licking of the neck ridges." Julian stared boldly at the object of his desire, insinuating himself into the Cardassian's personal space until he had him delightfully backed into a corner. "I fear that if I don't begin my studies quite soon, I'll never get the hang of it." Garak's slight narrowing of eyes confirmed that he'd taken the hint. He glanced down, his lips pursed in concentration. "I'd hoped that perhaps I'd leave while I still could," he murmured. "We really should wait, at least, until I am better prepared in every sense of the word. And I think you should think about if this is what you truly want, my dear Doctor." Julian rested his hand on a neck ridge, caressing it, smiling at the startled moan that Garak couldn't quite stifle. "Garak - I have been *thinking* about this for nearly four years. Now, even with your *limited* knowledge of Terran physiology, you'll have to admit that's a hell of a long time to have a hard-on." Garak looked up again, and Julian felt his face warm under those ice- blue eyes. Garak's walls were down now, too, and the doctor could read in the tailor's expression that the good-nights they had said only moments before were going to prove a bit premature. "I do believe you have a point, Julian." It was the doctor's turn to moan, then, and he would have regardless, if only at the soft, silken voice the Cardassian had used in saying his name. But the strong gray fingers that were tenderly stroking the bulge in his pants was ample enough reason for the sounds that were helplessly pouring from his lips. "I'm afraid I wasn't paying very much attention to the holovideo last night. You will, I hope, tell me if I'm doing something wrong?" "Trust me . . . oh!" Julian gasped as Garak sank to his knees, yanking the doctor's pants down as he went. His cock reacted in suitable happy fashion to being freed from its confines, and was even more appreciative when a questing tongue began to circle the dewy head. "You . . . you will be . . . ahhh . . . the first . . . to . . . know . . ." (*) Some days later, Julian sat in his office alone, catching up on a few of the medical journals he'd been neglecting. None of what he was reading was particularly interesting, but it was something to do, anyway. The Infirmary was as quiet as it had ever been, as most of the station was preparing for the consecration ceremony the next day. Most of the senior staff who planned on attending, including Kira and Dax, had already taken transport to Bajor. The commander was leaving later that day with the Starfleet dignitaries on the station, and Julian had declined his invitation. Someone had to stay behind to man the Infirmary, after all. Julian was sure he wouldn't mind the quiet, but having nothing to do for hours at a time was beginning to drive him a little mad. //Incoming voice communication from Mr. Garak.// Julian looked up eagerly from the padd he'd not been really reading. "Computer, engage privacy lock." When he heard the subtle click of his door being secured, he turned to his console. "Patch through the message." "Doctor." The dear face of the tailor filled the screen. "I do hope I'm not interrupting your work." "What work? There's hardly anyone left on the station. I've been staring at the ceiling most of the morning." Julian grinned archly. "And it's `Doctor' today, is it? I assume you are in your shop." "That would be correct, *Doctor.*" Garak's tone was polite but guarded. Julian got the message. There were obviously customers within earshot, so discretion was a must. "I'm afraid I am going to have to cancel lunch today." "What? Why?" "I am much too busy, I'm afraid." Garak sighed. "The ceremony is tomorrow, and there has been an unending parade of people needing seams let out or pants hemmed or skirts pressed . . . I do hope you understand." "I suppose I do. Duty calls, and all that." Julian played along, but pulled out his best pout, throwing in a lowering of his lashes in the bargain. In the three days that had followed dinner in his quarters, he'd learned that this particular expression reduced the Cardassian to putty. He'd been learning quite a few things about Garak since that dinner in his quarters, not the least of which was just how high he tended to jump when his left ridge was licked just right. Garak was also proving to be a very quick study in other matters, and Julian had made the pleasant discovery that Cardassians were quite adept at humming. "But I do expect you to make it up to me at your earliest convenience. We still have that, er, book to discuss." "I think that *discussion* may have to wait, Doctor. You see, I had a rather welcome visit this morning from Quark." Garak lowered his voice. "It seems a certain order I've placed has arrived." Julian was momentarily confused, but then it occurred to him what Garak was referring to, and suddenly, the tip of his cock was touching the underside of his desk. "But . . . I thought you said it would be five days." "Well, I did mention to Quark that I would be quite grateful if he could expedite the process." Garak smiled brightly. "And I may have given him an added incentive to carry out my request." Julian didn't even want to think about how much latinum Garak must have paid the Ferengi for this service, but he'd be damned if he didn't make sure Garak got his money's worth. "What time?" Garak chuckled. "Eager are we, my Julian?" The soft words were for the doctor's ears only. Then, louder: "Do you have any objections to 1800? My quarters?" Julian renewed his pout. The only problem he had was that it was six hours away. Still, there was nothing that could reasonably be done. Garak would probably have his hands full all day with last-minute customers, so a quick bit of groping in the changing room was likely not possible. "I'll be there." "Splendid. I don't think I have to tell you how much I look forward to it." Julian thought that doing so would probably be unnecessary. He could read an eagerness and desire in the Cardassian's eyes that he was sure matched his own. The knowledge that he would at last be able to explore Garak's body properly made his head swim. "Oh, and Doctor, I did have another visitor this morning." Garak's smile flattened. "The Constable called on me to inform me that his investigation is at an end." "What investi- Oh!" Julian sat up straighter. "Right - and what's the result?" "He spoke with the young man, and he admitted all. It seems he had heard from an acquaintance that the surest way to arouse a Cardassian's interest was to provoke him and then directly proposition him. According to the Constable, the young man had no idea that I was not interested, and, in fact, he'd assumed that my seeming lack of response was indicative of a desire to get to know him better in a private setting." Julian could not believe his ears. "So you're telling me that he really *did* want you to . . ." "Apparently so. He seems to share his father's . . . goodwill toward my people, though in quite a different fashion." Garak looked endlessly amused. "Poor young man. Something tells me that he is in for quite an uncomfortable existence if he doesn't obtain a bit more common sense. The constable asked me once more if I'd like to press charges. I again told him no. In fact, I believe that perhaps under the circumstances, I should thank the boy . . ." "I don't know if I'd go quite that far, but I can't deny that it turned out quite nicely for all involved." Julian considered a minute. "Except maybe for Gabriel. Perhaps you should lend *him* `Key of Palan.'" "I do *not* think that would be wise," Garak said with a derisive snort. "And, I believe his fascination with Cardassians may be at an end. The Constable said he suggested to the young man that he turn his attentions to someone more suitable, and that young Mr. Townsmythe agreed. Someone more *suitable* . . . I tried not to take offense at that, but I did understand his point." "I can hardly believe this! He was actually coming on to you!" Julian shook his head. "I don't remember being so bold at 17." "Ah . . . kids today." Garak made a tsk-ing sound. "They are getting more and more precocious by the century." "I suppose so! Though I can't say that I blame Gabriel for being intrigued by you." Julian leaned close to the monitor. "Has anyone ever told you that you have the most *arresting* eyes?" "Doctor . . ." The warning in Garak's voice was clear. "And that your skin is a most lovely shade of silver . . . and has quite a delightful flavor to it?" "Julian . . ." A hiss this time. "I am ending this transmission . . ." "And that your lips are -" Julian laughed aloud when the screen went abruptly black. Poor Garak. Julian knew that it really wasn't fair of him to tease the tailor when he had a full complement of customers to attend to, but he was a little perturbed about the canceled lunch. It wasn't Garak's fault, but still - six hours until they could see each other? Maybe the thought of their impending date would make the day go by a little faster, the thought that at last he'd be able to touch the scaled marvel between Garak's legs . . . stroke it . . . feel it inside him . . . even if was to be only for minute or two. Lost in these pleasant musings, Julian surfaced at a strange sound. After a moment, he'd placed its source - it was coming from his office doors. Someone was knocking. Julian was momentarily confused as to why someone would knock, but then he remembered the privacy lock. Hurriedly, Julian disengaged it and the doors opened to admit his head nurse. "Yes, Jabara?" "You have a patient, Doctor." She gave him an odd look. "I hope I'm not disturbing you. If you are busy, perhaps I could . . ." "No, I'm sorry. I'd forgotten I'd locked the door." Julian stood and followed the woman into the intake room, grateful that he'd actually have something to do that morning. "Hello, I'm Doctor Bashir." His practiced speech was at the ready as he stepped into the main room. "What seems to be the trouble? . . ." He looked up and into the angry glare of a young, red-haired youth who was rubbing his left wrist. By his side was the imposingly elegant figure of his mother, looking as if she wanted to explode. Julian took an instinctive step backward, unsettled by the sight of his new patient. "Doctor Bashir, it's good to see you again." Ursa Townsmythe smiled thinly. "I had hoped that we wouldn't meet until our transport left later today, but my son had other plans." She shot her son an annoyed look. "It seems he injured his wrist participating in one of those holosuite programs." "I see." Julian unfolded his tricorder and scanned the wrist, carefully masking his annoyed reaction to having to face this troublesome young man. "Was it the new rappelling program?" "No. Klingon calisthenics." Gabriel looked sullen. "Some kid told me it was cool, so I tried it." "Hmm. I have a suspicion that whoever told you *that* had never actually tried it himself. I'd be much more careful about who I listen to in the future." Julian snapped the tricorder shut, smiling tightly. "It's just a slight sprain; nothing serious at all." "Oh, thank god." Mrs. Townsmythe looked profoundly relieved. "I was terrified that this would cause us to miss the ceremony." "Fifteen minutes with the ligoregenerator, and a hypospray, and he'll be as good as new." "Thank you, Doctor." Mrs. Townsmythe flashed Julian a sweet smile before turning back to her son. "Now, Gabriel, I must go and confirm our departure time." She kissed her son's cheek. "Contact me when you're all fixed up." With a stately dignity, she smiled at Julian and carried herself off and out of the Infirmary. "Right. Well." Julian glanced at Jabara, nodding when she went to attend to the necessary instruments. "If you'll follow Nurse Jabara into the treatment cubicle, we can begin." He entered some information on the intake padd, his concentration diverted for a moment. When he glanced up again, Julian was surprised to see Gabriel still sitting in front of him, watching him with narrowed eyes. Julian raised a brow, setting the padd to one side. "Is there something else you needed to tell me?" "Yeah." The youth's eyes glittered, and he jumped down from the biobed in an awkward motion. "Suck my cock, stupid son of a bitch." The boy brushed by him, knocking over a tray of instruments as he went. Julian's eyes widened and he reeled as if he'd been struck, grabbing the edge of the biobed for balance. "Oh *no.*" End [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]