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“It was every day implied, but never professedly declared. Sometimes I thought it had been–but it never was."
Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen
Two Months on Cardassia Prime
Years later, Julian still wouldn’t know if the touch had been accidental, the result of lazy movements in the encroaching night, or a more strategic move. Garak, as ever, wasn’t a reliable source on the matter.
Julian was making tea in their shared government issue two bedroom apartment. He’d taken to only wearing pajama bottoms in the evening as his only recourse against the heat. So hunched impatiently over their small fuel stove, waiting for water to boil, Garak brushed past him, perhaps looking for an evening snack. Garak’s hand ran along his bare back.Though brief, the contact was enough to send an electric shock of alertness through him. He turned towards Garak, freezing as they made eye contact. Somehow, Garak’s hand still lingered on his back.
Verbal communication was extraneous. The look was enough. And suddenly, his evening tea was forgotten and Julian was in Garak’s arms. Elim placed sharp little bites along his exposed neck line. As they had compromised on the temperature, Garak had a full thermal tunic on that Julian wasted no time in reaching under.
So eager were they that they only made it to Julian’s bed because of the modest size of the apartment. The relative lack of foreplay compensated for over seven years of innuendo and anticipation.
Afterwards, they both agreed it was worth the wait, and collapsed in exhaustion.
Six Months on Cardassia Prime
“So,” Julian cleared his throat, “my visa is ending soon.” He pushed the Cardassian-style porridge around his plate idly. The soft orange morning light framed Garak’s morning hair, and Julian privately mourned the probability of giving up their brief but beautiful cohabitation.
“I’ll miss you, doctor.” Garak smiled at him, and sipped his tea. Julian couldn’t figure out what emotion lay beneath Garak’s reserve. “But I suppose there’s no changing the rules, even for very talented physicians.”
“As I understand it, I would be allowed permanent residence as an alien under only one condition.” He paused, taking a deep breath. This would probably be a swing and a miss. “I understand spouses of citizens are exempt from the six month visa limit.”
Garak stared at him rather oddly, off his guard only momentarily. The proposal was implicit, and clearly understood.
“Can you think of anyone you would marry on such short notice?” Garak took a sip of tea, never breaking eye contact. He looked too damn amused.
“There is someone. He’s been my friend a long time, and I don’t want him to feel taken advantage of.”
“He would have the advantage of your continued company.” A pause. “It has been very enjoyable.” A sly smile.
“City regulations would require that he and I be relocated to a one bedroom. It would be a shift.”
“A smaller shift than your complete removal. And what value is an unoccupied second bedroom? Better that someone else take better advantage of the space.”
They really didn’t use the second bedroom. Garak had slept in Julian’s bed every night since they’d begun. Garak liked how warm Julian was, and Julian liked how cool Garak was. And it was convenient too, as they frequently had what Julian considered rather excellent sex either before going to sleep or after waking. The second bedroom was completely neglected. Its advantage was more in the possibility. It was an easy out if either of them ever needed it. Any day he wanted to, Garak could sleep in what was theoretically his own bedroom. That would have been enough for Julian to know their arrangement had ended. More permanent ties limited that freedom of movement.
“I don’t think we need two bedrooms.” Julian offered. “Unless you do.”
“I wouldn’t have offered it if I minded. When do you need to be married for the paperwork?”
“The sooner the better.”
“Meet me at the courthouse after work then. All I ask is that you don’t wear your scrubs.”
“You insult me! I wouldn’t wear scrubs to our wedding.”
“Well, my dear, you certainly won’t wear scrubs now.”
Later that day, when Julian saw Garak at the courthouse wearing his best tunic and an easy smile, he wondered what their marriage would be like. With Palis, they’d had time to talk about the future, made clear plans, and still he had walked away. Instead, he’d fallen by accident, and with so little discussion, into an arrangement he didn’t really know the bounds of. All the same, signing his name beside Garak’s felt as easy as joining him for lunch.
Eight Months on Cardassia Prime
Garak had been surprisingly enthusiastic when Julian invited him to the yearly Union day hospital party. And it was nice to have Garak there; he had the skill of talking quite a lot while saying very little, and all Julian had to do was trail in his wake. It should have been easier than it was. He liked his coworkers, but all the same he found himself often making rather serious social mistakes with them due to his cultural blindspots. On one of his worst occasions, he’d suggested that a woman’s mother was better off without a foot when trying to explain the necessity of amputation.
So it was better to have Elim around to smooth over his little faux pas as they were happening, rather than needing to clean them up himself later. Despite this, Julian found he’d ended up standing next to his shift supervisor Te’lana, while Garak was talking to nurse Reo about common garden pests and their removal. They sipped kanar out of tiny hospital mugs until she finally spoke.
“That’s your husband?” Te’lana asked. She was about as tall as Julian, and looked imposing even with an eyebrow raised.
“Yes, that’s my husband,” Julian responded. How good and right the word felt on his tongue!
“He’s not what I expected.”
“How so?” Julian asked. Defensiveness welled in his chest. The urge to defend Garak stirred something primal in him.
“Forgive me, Dr. Bashir, but you speak of him so little that I wondered if it was simply a matter of convenience. I feel rather foolish now.”
He recoiled against the comment. Just because it was a marriage of convenience didn’t mean he wanted it pointed out or assumed! Especially considering how deep his own feelings ran for Garak. It was much easier in moments like these, to pretend they really were happily married, and not linger on the reality of their friends with benefits arrangement.
“How is it,” Julian asked, “that you can say something like that, yet when I try to compliment a medical student I offend everyone?” Several weeks prior, he’d told a doctor in training she’d done well in a surgery, and she burst into tears. He later found out that the Kardasi word he used implied she was talented but lazy; what he meant was she was efficient.
“You are rude on accident. I am rude on purpose. These serve entirely different social functions among Cardassians. A few more years, and it will begin to come more easily. Especially,” she gestured to Elim, “if you let him lead you.”
“Do you think I get a word in edgewise with him, Te’lana?”
“No, I don't suspect you do.” She smiled, and took a sip of kanar.
Ten Months on Cardassia Prime
Coming home from work, Julian was greeted by the smell of soup and the sight of Garak, standing over a large pot quietingly humming to himself. There was something unexpectedly peaceful about it. The air smelled of spices and vegetables Julian was only beginning to individually identify and name but that already connotated home.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Julian said. There was something so comforting, so homey about Garak in the kitchen. The sight would occasionally give him delusions of really being married to Garak. The accompanying emotions were so strong, he risked being overpowered.
“Tough day at the hospital?” Garak spoke without looking up from his intent stirring.
“Yes,” Julian came up behind Garak and wrapped his arms around Garak’s waist in a brief hug, placing a kiss on his exposed neck ridge. “All I want to do is eat this beautiful soup and then take you to bed. Not necessarily in that order.”
Garak turned to face him. “The soup isn’t ready yet.” He smirked.
“Oh… well it seems we have some time to kill.”
“There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about first.”
“Such a tease! My husband is a tease!” Julian threw his arms up in the air, the fact of fake exasperation enough to make Garak smile.
“It’s important. I don’t need your answer right away. Please think about it if you need to.”
“Okay.” Julian nodded, immediately trying to make himself seem serious.
“Dr. Lang approached me about running for the new parliament.”
“Wow! Elim! That’s great! Are you going to do it?” It took all Julian’s energy to constrain himself from crowding Garak’s personal space in an act of celebratory jubilance.
“That entirely depends on you, my dear.”
“On me?” Julian gave a skeptical look. “If you want, then you should. I hardly think I should stop you even if I wanted to. Which to be clear, I don’t.”
“While I appreciate the enthusiasm, I think you’re being a bit hasty.” Garak’s face was thoughtful, and he let his hands trail up and down Julian’s forearm. “It’s not that simple. I’ll be under public scrutiny, and by extension, so will you. As you well know, not everyone on Cardassia takes kindly to foreigners. You didn’t sign up to be a political spouse.”
“It’s thoughtful of you to ask me, but really it’s your decision. I would hate to feel like I’m holding you back. That’s the last thing I want this to be.” Julian gestured between them. Even the idea of their fake marriage holding Garak back brought an immense wave of guilt.
“You would support it then?”
“Wholeheartedly.” He gave a little hop, sat down on the kitchen counter, and looked down at the soup. It had a deep purple color.
“Even if you end up having to make public political appearances as my husband from time to time?” Garak raised his ridges. Julian couldn’t think why he would dislike such a thing; really, it made him proud.
“Even then.” He paused. “Am I too big a liability?” Julian asked, swinging his legs absent-mindly. “I know Cardassia is most important to you, and well, I wouldn’t want to cause you any problems.”
“Stop saying that.” Garak looked almost angry. He moved towards Julian, and situated himself between Julian’s open legs. “You’re not a problem to be solved or a thing to be sacrificed. You are my husband. I told you, if this was a problem, then I would tell Lang no, and be done with it.”
“It’s not a problem! I’m excited for you, truly. I just, I want to get out of your way if you need.” Leaving Cardassia would be a blow, but he would do it if Garak asked in a heartbeat.
“That’s absurd.” Garak’s hands were on Julian’s thighs now; he looked ravenous. A sweet evening breeze came in through the window, open just a crack.
“Perhaps I could make it up to, for making such pig-headed comments.”
“Yes. I can think of a number of ways.” Elim looked towards the bedroom and then back at Julian.
“Will the soup be fine unattended?”
“It better be.”
Fourteen Months on Cardassia Prime
Garak let out a sad hacking cough, and Julian clutched his hand even more tightly. He had only gotten up from Elim’s hospital bed a countable number of times to eat, and his muscles groaned from the stillness.
There was nothing he could do. The correct medication had been prescribed and administered, and he would either improve on his own or get much much worse. Julian had been working on similar cases for months, and had found little success in improving the treatment regimen; in fact, several of his attempts had worsened patient outcomes. He wouldn’t make Garak into that kind of guinea pig, not when he had a very good shot at surviving and being healthy again.
For all his time as a doctor, Julian had done relatively little waiting like this. Usually he was managing multiple patients, writing records, thinking up treatment plans, and not sitting still as he was now. This time, he was only waiting. Alone with his thoughts, he pondered what his life would look like without Garak. Despite not really believing, he prayed to Oralius for Garak. He prayed to Ben Sisko, and the prophets too. There was no use being discerning when there was a chance of losing his most important person.
Garak recovered after five days in the hospital.
“You won’t be losing me that easily,” Garak had said with a shaky voice just as he was beginning to recover. Julian had burst into sobs from relief.
Eighteen Months on Cardassia Prime
The trip to Earth from Cardassia took 30 hours, which was long enough that a visit of only a few days would normally be considered too short. But Julian had little desire to go there in the first place, and had managed through some keen planning to condense the trip down to three days. After a long day and half of travel and a long five hours with his grief-stricken mother, Julian and Garak walked side by side through the streets on a gray winter’s night in London.
“I knew it would be awful, but I didn’t think it would be that awful,” said Julian with a sad huff. “It was good of you to come with me.”
“I’m happy to provide whatever comfort I can, dear.” Garak gave a small reassuring smile. He looked endearingly cute in the overstuffed navy parka that Julian had obtained to help him through the late fall weather.
“I know. I know. But you didn’t have to come, which makes your coming all the more meaningful.”
Garak tsked at him before saying, “Doctor, the net would have a field day if I sent you home to deal with the death of your father alone. It is simply not done on Cardassia. Family is important, and your mother is my family now.”
Julian frowned. “So your presence is coerced?” He tried to sound playful, and failed miserably. He hated feeling like a burden to Garak, who had been so kind and so helpful to him since his relocation to Cardassia.
“Hardly, I would have made the same choice freely.”
Julian made a tired, skeptical little noise in reply. Garak offered his hand to Julian, and Julian took it, interlocking their fingers as they walked through the dark alleyways of former Great Britain.
“It’s funny, I thought it would at least feel nice to be back on Earth.” Julian was terrible at letting a silence sit.
“Not even the weather?” Garak asked.
“Maybe the weather. But it’s not home, not anymore.” He didn’t add ‘you’re my home now’ but he thought it.
“You’d never consider moving back?” Garak sounded careful, almost surprised.
“Only under duress. My mother tried to apply sufficient coercion after the war, luckily the whole ‘happily married and settled on Cardassia’ thing seems to have made it less reasonable for her to ask me to return. Anyway, I can’t imagine a scenario where I would return permanently.”
“Why, doctor, you sound almost Cardassian.” Garak gave his hand a squeeze.
“I did marry one.” Julian smiled. “What if we didn’t go tomorrow?”
“To your father’s funeral?” Garak sounded scandalized by the suggestion.
“I have the transporter credits for a trip to Cairo. Or Athens! Or Istanbul! I think you would like the pyramids. Oh or perhaps Teotihuacan. Those are different pyramids. Then you might make fun of humans, and I might make fun of you, and then we could have hotel sex.”
“Julian,” Garak stopped walking, and Julian stopped, turning to face him. “I know this is an awful time for you, but you’ll feel worse if you don’t go.”
“I know.” Julian sighed.
“We can extend the trip if you want to take me touring or visit old friends. I cleared a week and a half for the trip.”
Julian sighed. It was a generous offer, and one he might have been tempted to take if he thought he could enjoy vacation in such close proximity to his mother. Really, what he wanted was to take Garak to Risa, and feast on each other completely. But with their busy lives rebuilding Cardassia, something like that always sounded too frivolous.
“I think I just want to leave as soon as possible,” he admitted.
“Let’s do that then. And in the meantime, we can still have hotel sex. We’re walking back to our hotel right now.”
“Oh, are we?”
“It could be very distracting. But only if you want.”
The thing was, Julian basically always wanted where Garak was concerned. And it did turn out to be very distracting.
Two Years on Cardassia Prime
It was a rare day that Julian and Garak both had a full day off; between political events and emergency surgeries they were often in each other’s company less than Julian preferred. This was almost one of those rare days all for each other, except Garak had to go across town for a 30 minute interview. It had taken very little convincing to get Julian to tag along for the train ride across the city, on the promise that they would walk around the neighborhood, and visit the shops and community garden after the interview.
After the bombardment, communication technology on Cardassia had suffered tremendously. The net was reconstructed quickly enough for the government and the hospitals, but most individuals were just beginning to get reliable access to the information grid, and some in more rural provinces were yet to be reconnected. In the interim, old-fashioned radio had re-emerged in popularity, with even the most impoverished households having access to a small government-issued wireless.
Julian had been deposited with a kiss on the forehead in the waiting room, which was nothing more than a dilapidated couch and a small radio, which was playing the station’s own broadcast. He would get to hear Garak’s interview at least. It went about how Julian expected: Garak was never a minute out of control, always extolling the virtue of a social plan or laying out the benefits of proposed legislature. His voice was confident and maneuverable. That was one of the things Julian couldn’t help but love about Garak.
“One last question,” the slick radio interviewer began.
“Anything,” replied Garak.
“I got a brief peek at your companion when you were coming in. Your husband, I believe.”
“Yes.” Garak’s tone was measured, if wary. “That is my husband.”
“Tell our listeners a little about you two.” Julian hated questions like this. As if their relationship was for public consumption.
“He was a dear friend long before he was my husband. He helped me to grow and change into the man I am today; capable of providing leadership and looking forward to a renewed Cardassia. I am proud to call him my husband.”
Julian let out a shaky little breath. Sometimes Garak said these sorts of things in public, and he never knew how much stock to put in them. Were the words for his benefit? For the host? For the constituents? He could never quite tell how much of the truth was lies.
“That’s beautiful. Well, thank you for coming on with us, Councilor Garak.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
Later, walking through the community garden, Julian dared bring it up. “I found you borderline sentimental in that interview today.”
“Unavoidable, I’m afraid.” Garak’s eyes twinkled mischievously.
“Yeah? Even for the man who once said ‘sentiment is the greatest weakness of all’.”
Garak stopped, and looked up at Julian. “Sentiment can also be a strength too. You taught me that.”
There was no witty reply for a comment like that. Garak had won the argument before it had even begun. Julian was briefly stunned into silence.
“I don’t know how you expect me to argue with you when you say things like that,” Julian finally said.
“I don’t. Some things shouldn’t be argued.”
Three Years on Cardassia Prime
Julian idly ran his fingers over Garak’s chest, appreciating for the thousandth time the intricate bumps and ridges there. Garak’s chest rumbled, a sound between a hum and a purr, the sound of contentment he often made after their exertions. They were tucked neatly together in bed, Julian between Garak’s arm and chest, nestled together against an ever growing pile of pillows and blankets.
“I’ve been hearing the new immigration laws might actually get through,” Julian said carefully, quietly. The room was dark, and it was already past their bedtime. Usually, the night felt like a comfortable safe space they shared, but tonight all Julian could feel was nerves.
“It does seem that way. Not without some pulling teeth, but the xenophobia of my coworkers is no match for my persistence. It’s hard to argue that our identity will be so eroded when it has endured through much more upheaval than a few Federaji.” Garak chuckled and pressed a kiss to Julian’s forehead. He didn’t mention the sheen of sweat from the unusually warm night.
“I only brought it up, because if it passes we’ll have to have a serious conversation.” Julian sighed, and screwed his eyes tight. It felt awful to even bring up. His heart thudded uncomfortably and he was hot and tingly all over.
“What do you mean? Is something wrong?” Garak’s voice was a tender mix of comfort and confusion. He ran this hand soothingly along Julian’s back.
“I just… I wasn’t sure if you wanted a divorce when the legislation went through.” Julian still hadn’t opened his eyes. He was trying very hard not to panic with mixed success.
“Do you want a divorce?!” Garak’s voice was surprisingly sharp, surprisingly angry. He shifted slightly, and Julian opened his eyes to find Garak now propped up on one elbow, and looking at Julian intently. Bright blue eyes with thin slits glowed in the dark of their bedroom. “Why do you want a divorce?”
“No! No, of course I don’t want that!” Julian said defensively. “I just, I know you initially married me for the visa. And I mean for me, it’s not about that. But I didn’t know if perhaps for you… this legislation was about bringing our arrangement to an end.” Julian could hardly stand to look at Garak as he spoke. Confusion and clarity, horror and amusement all seemed to briefly settle on his face despite efforts to school his expression.
“Julian.” Garak’s voice was a frustrated rumble. “Why did we get married?”
“Well, if we didn’t get married I would have had to leave Cardassia. It was very generous of you. To help me like that.” Julian spoke nervously; he felt like he might jump out of his skin.
“Why did you want to stay? Why not just go back to StarFleet?” The question this time was a bit gentler.
“I was falling in love with you,” Julian admitted. He sat up and looked down at Garak lounging comfortably in their bed.
“I know.”
“Since when have you known!?” Julian flopped back onto the bed dramatically.
“Before you asked. You’re very good to me, always have been. Eventually, even I knew charity was an unlikely explanation. Besides, you spend much of your time looking at me, even when there are much younger and more attractive people in the room. I’ve known you for a long time, Julian.”
“That obvious?”
“Clear as day.”
“I thought I was being subtle.”
Garak made a very self satisfied humming noise in response. They stared at each other for a moment, before Garak finally said, “Aren’t you going to ask why I said yes?”
“Okay fine. Why did you agree to marry me?”
“Because you asked,” he said, as if it were all rather simple. Maybe it was.
“Because I asked?” Julian blinked away the surprise.
“I’m very fond of you, dear. I thought it was rather obvious.”
“Fond, sure. Marry and love for the rest of your days, that I could never quite say. When we started sleeping together… nothing seemed to change for you. So I thought it was maybe no big deal to you. I’ve never seen you fall in love, so I didn’t have a frame of reference.”
“You have seen me fall in love. Around 2370.” Garak’s voice was confident, amused.
“To who?” Julian’s mind raced trying to figure out who Garak had had eyes for back when they were on Deep Space Nine. “That was ten years ago!”
“You, dear. I’ve been rather hopelessly in love with you for quite some time.”
“Oh!”
“Oh indeed! I’m a bit upset that you seem to think I married you out of benevolence. It was in fact an entirely selfish act.”
“Is there any reason you didn’t say you loved me?” Julian asked.
“I didn’t think I needed to. I thought you knew.”
“I think I did know, deep down.” Julian let out a small sigh of embarrassment, folding his head into Garak’s armpit as he cringed at his own foolishness. “Still, it would be nice to hear from time to time.”
“I love you, Julian.”
“I love you too, Elim.”