This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places 
and incidents are either products of the author's 
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to 
actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, 
is entirely coincidental.   
 
STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE is a Registered Trademark ® of 
Paramount Pictures.  Copyright (c) 1996 by Paramount 
Pictures. All Rights Reserved. No infringement was meant. 
 
"Remedy for Anxiety" copyright (c) 1996 by BGM - NC-17 
 
~~~ 
 
Doctor Julian Bashir frowned over his padd as he absently 
brought a glass of raktegino to his lips. He sipped the 
liquid thoughtfully without missing a beat in his lecture -
- a lecture that had obviously taken up all the young man's 
attention.  
 
Setting the glass down, he took a deep breath and massaged 
his throbbing forehead, trying to make sense of his writing 
even as he edited most of its bulk with irritation. Aside 
from the agonizing headache, a dull annoying pang had 
rested on his shoulders from leaning forward too long, and 
his eyes strained terribly as he struggled to read the too 
small print.   
 
*Why me?* he thought morosely.   
 
All around him expressions of emotion from Dabo attendants 
echoed through Quark's -- some shouting in joy for their 
gains while others groaned loudly for their losses. 
Somehow, the doctor had managed to block them out 
effectively enough to focus on his composition.  
 
Thus centered, he did not notice the silent form which 
crept up in front of him, nor did he note its lingering 
presence. It was only when a voice rose did he look up with 
a start. 
 
"Evening doctor. Hard at your studies I see." Looming over 
him was the placid figure of Elim Garak, the friendly DS9 
tailor. His right hand held on to a glass of kanar while 
the other pointed at the opposite chair. "May I?" he asked 
affably. 
 
Julian nodded eagerly, relieved of the distraction.  
"Please," he agreed, gesturing toward the empty chair. 
 
When the Cardassian had settled, he stared across the table 
to Julian with bright lively eyes, studying the young man 
as he stretched lazily to accommodate his sore muscles. His 
own face was adorned with a cheery smile, and his eyes 
scintillated with that mischievous glare -- Eyes which 
almost caressed Julian as they studied the young man's 
feline movements.   
 
"So tell me Doctor," he began, pointing lightly at the padd 
resting in front of Julian, "What can possibly be so 
interesting that you'd allow my presence to go unnoticed?" 
 
Julian's face dropped into a sullen frown. "Damn conference 
lecture tomorrow," he muttered. "Biomedics no less," he 
added wryly, as if the subject made great difference.  
 
Garak shrugged massive shoulders. "Ah well -- I have no 
expertise in such a field, but I have no doubt that you 
will offer the audience a worthy dissertation," he assured. 
 
Julian's gaze widened, pure dread reflected from the liquid 
bronze eyes. "Garak," he whimpered. "I'll be talking in 
front of Starfleet's most prominent scientists!" 
 
The tailor's gaze scrutinized the doctor's anxious 
features, and he promptly leaned back with a revelatory 
look. "You're anxious!" he exclaimed. 
 
The young man nodded sharply. Wasn't that what he had been 
saying? "You're damned right I'm anxious!" he cried. 
 
"But . . ." Garak was evidently confused. "For what 
reasons? You should not be intimidated by Starfleet 
book worms. You've practiced frontier medicine -- as you 
charmingly refer to it," he smiled. "Your insight is vastly 
more keen than all of theirs combined."   
 
The tailor's tone had made the compliment pass subtly -- so 
subtly that Julian almost missed it. Almost. Yet the tailor 
smiled as he detected the feint blush which suffused the 
other man's golden cheeks. "Well thank you," Bashir 
replied. His face was once again darkened with a frown. 
"Doesn't stop the fact that I'll look like a total idiot at 
the podium tomorrow." 
 
Garak clucked his tongue in a very parental fashion. "Now, 
Doctor. This self-deprecation of yours will do nothing to 
raise your confidence." He paused as he considered his next 
choice of words, then slowly leaned forward. "Would it help 
you if I attended the lecture tomorrow?" he offered softly. 
  
Julian looked even more abashed. "No! Garak -- you're my 
friend, but I'll be mortified if I knew you were there. No, 
it'd be best if you didn't come. Save me a bit of dignity 
at least." 
 
Yes, Julian's behavior was definitely confusing the tailor. 
"My poor doctor, are your fears so alt? I had no idea you 
were so solicitous about public-speaking. With all that 
charm and grace, I somehow fail to see that particular flaw 
in your character." 
 
Julian flinched. "Well, it's not exactly a flaw -- just a 
dreadful phobia. What's worst is that I have no idea where 
it comes from. My father is a natural diplomat and my 
mother never had any trouble talking to a public." He 
sighed and shrugged self-deprecatingly. "I guess it's one 
of my personality's mysterious blemishes," he concluded 
humourlessly. 
 
Garak's lips twitched into a smile, unable to resist. "Ah 
but then, mystery is the root of everything, is it not 
doctor? Without enigma, where's the fun in trying to 
unravel your companion's secrets?" 
 
Julian snorted pleasantly. "With you, it's a constant joy," 
he said levelly. 
 
Garak beamed. "I'll take that as a compliment." 
 
"As it was intended," Julian finished with a tip of the 
head. 
 
Garak sipped thoughtfully at his kanar. After a moment, he 
said, "So I suppose I won't be seeing you for lunch 
tomorrow. Perhaps you'd care to join me for dinner then?" 
he added quickly, as though to say it before he changed his 
mind. Was that diffidence Julian detected? 
 
But the doctor's mind was too engrossed on the lecture. "If 
I have the presence of mind to crawl from under my rock -- 
maybe," he said. 
 
The Cardassian blinked. ". . . rock?" 
 
The young man sniffed and smiled gently. "Just an idiom. 
Yes, Garak, I'd love a nice dinner afterwards. My quarters? 
I don't really like the replimat during supper time. Too 
damn crowded," he grumbled. And forget Quark's, he thought.  
 
"I was just about to suggest the very same thing!" Garak 
exclaimed, evidently pleased. 
 
The doctor's stare was one of quiet wonder. "Imagine that." 
 
"Now then," the tailor nodded. He grasped his glass and 
rose to his feet. "I'll leave you to your lecture. 
Good evening doctor." 
 
Julian was about to resume his work when an afterthought 
struck him. He jerked his head up. "Oh Garak, wait!" When 
he had the tailor's attention, Julian went on, "Are you 
going to be at your shop tonight? I might drop by my 
uniform for a press --" he smiled demurely. "I *do* want to 
look my best for tomorrow." 
  
*No need of a uniform to accomplish that, dear Julian,* 
Garak thought. He quickly chided himself and nodded once. 
"No problem Doctor. Come drop it off tonight, and I'll have 
it ready for you tomorrow morning. I'll even deliver it 
personally," he offered with a disarming smile. 
 
"Ah, you're a dear Garak. Thank you. I'll see you later," 
he smiled. 
 
"Think nothing of it," Garak assured. "Until tonight then," 
he added, though pointlessly since Julian's head was 
already bent over his work, his mind immersed in his 
concerns for tomorrow.  
 
Garak quietly shook his head as he walked off. *Such 
worries for one so young,* he thought sadly. 
 
*** 
 
The next day, Julian fussed with his hair as he looked at 
his reflection in the mirror. He had a hard time with his 
appearance today, and he was pretty sure it had something 
to do with his damnable speech this afternoon. He again 
paused his grooming and admired the result. He sighed and 
shook his head at the lanky figure staring back at him. He 
had never been embarrassed about his physic. The only 
criticism, though, was the lack of muscular stockiness. 
Certainly, a lean slender frame had it's merits, yet he 
sometimes longed the athletic firm built which Sisko 
harbored, or that of Garak's well muscled frame. He always 
found bigger builds manlier. His own lanky figure didn't 
offer much to the imagination. He sighed again and backed 
away the mirror.  
 
If he was reticent about his built, he could at least be 
contented with his complexion, enhanced now by the chalky 
underwear. He knew for a fact that his caramel color drove 
more than one or two people crazy. Only thing he actually 
loved about himself. That and perhaps his eyes. Some people 
had complimented those as well. 
  
A chime disrupted his thoughts and he frowned. "Who is it?" 
  
A familiar voice replied. "It is I, Doctor. I have your 
uniform ready." 
 
Julian's face illuminated. "Garak, come in." 
 
The tailor briskly stepped inside the Doctor's quarters, 
pausing at the threshold at the sight which greeted him. 
The first thing he promptly noticed was how little the 
doctor had on in terms of clothing. Second thing was the 
sensation of a particular part of him hardening at the 
view.  
 
He hastily averted his eyes, careful not to stare so 
obviously at Julian's body. He handed him the uniform 
with a delicately measured smile.  
 
Bashir returned the smile as he took the pristine uniform, 
evidently less disturbed by his near nakedness than Garak 
was. "Thank you -- I really appreciate the time you took." 
 
Garak waved a dismissive hand. "Really, it was nothing. 
Anything I can do to help with your speech is a joy to do. 
Have you prepared?" he asked quickly to cloak the 
uncharacteristic sincerity he had offered. 
 
Julian's mood darkened. "Well -- I *have* been reciting the 
damn thing over and over for the past three hours," he 
explained moodily. 
 
The tailor shook his head as he went to sit on the edge of 
Julian's bed.  "No no, doctor. Reciting does no good. What 
you need is to loosen your tongue. You need to be relaxed . 
. . confident." He should know . . . he had done enough 
such lectures in the Order, counseling new Candidates 
during their initiation. He sighed surreptitiously at the 
memory. 
 
"How the hell am I supposed to feel those things when I 
hardly consider myself adequate for the task?" Julian 
mewled, waving his hands exasperately. "Garak, there'll be 
at least thirty people there, all with a list of degrees 
longer than my discourse! And every one of them will be 
staring *at* me while I blubber out my lecture. I'll be the 
laughingstock of Starfleet medical!" 
 
Garak's eyes narrowed inquisitively. "You *are* nervous 
about public-speaking," he remarked. "I hadn't realized 
what a horror it would be for you. Tell me . . . is there a 
root for this phobia?" he probed carefully. 
 
Julian's head snapped up at the odd question. "What do you 
mean?" 
 
"Is there some incidence when you were a child where you 
were forced into speaking publicly perhaps?  An instance 
where you were possibly humiliated?" He was searching far 
deeper than he would have allowed Julian, but he had 
noticed that humans were more open to such matters than he 
was.  
 
The young man shrugged. "Well . . . aside from school 
orals, I don't really have any overt incident where I was 
terribly embarrassed. I guess I'm just worried about my 
pride," he said with a slight flinch.  
 
"You feel threatened?" 
 
Julian rested a confused glare on the tailor. "Garak, why 
is this becoming more and more like a psychological 
counsel?" 
 
The Cardassian shrugged. "Talking about it might help you. 
I'm simply trying to help you find the underlying origin to 
your affliction. But you're right of course . . . consuming 
excessive time over the matter might add to your 
nervousness, and I don't think we need that right now, do 
we? How much time is left?" 
 
Julian glanced at the chronometer. "I have about five hours 
and a half. Why?" 
 
Garak took a deep breath. This was it, the moment of truth. 
He was hard with need, and Julian's beautiful body was 
almost screaming at him to be caressed, touched, licked, 
kissed . . . 
 
He winced. He'd have to be more tactful than that. "Because 
I just thought of an idea that will loosen your tongue. 
Though I'm adverse in trying it on you . . . you might not 
want it," he added waveringly. 
 
The human sighed exasperately. He turned and rested a hand 
on the uniform he'd laid on his chair. He knew he should 
change . . . why didn't the fact he was half naked in front 
of the tailor bother him as much as he'd anticipated? 
"Garak, at this point I would welcome almost anything," he 
sighed. 
 
The Cardassian flinched ever so subtly. "It's the almost 
I'm worried about." 
 
Julian didn't break the visual hold on the uniform, 
absently running a hand on it and realizing just then what 
Garak had done by personally bringing it to him. The tailor 
had unknowingly provided great support for him, and still 
he continued counseling the young human for his lecture. He 
wondered if the tailor knew just how much he appreciated 
the gesture. "Just do what you want Garak. I promise I 
won't back down," he vowed, knowing it was the least he 
could do. Yet a part of him -- a very faint part of him 
knew what Garak wanted. And his underwear seemed suddenly 
too tight . . . was it his imagination? 
  
"Are you sure?" asked Garak. 
 
The thought fled from Julian's mind, quickly replaced with 
a sudden irritation. "Well if you go on like that, I might 
say no. Just tell me what you want to do first, then I'll 
tell you if I like the idea or not." 
 
Encouraged, Garak rose to his feet and approached the human 
slowly. "Well . . . on Cardassia we have a peculiar method 
of loosening one's tongue . . . and subsequently the whole 
body when under stressful situations. Perhaps you've heard 
of it?" he asked, a slight mischief playing about his smile 
in spite of his misgivings. 
 
Julian swallowed as he turned to look up at Garak's steady 
cerulean eyes. How he could lose himself in that soothing 
gaze. "What's it called?" 
 
"It's called kissing," Garak whispered hoarsely, sweeping a 
warm breath on Julian neck when the human had turned away. 
 
The doctor craned his neck again, bronze eyes registering 
surprise ... and perhaps a bit of hope. "Kissing -- 
Garak? You want to . . ." He realized he was stammering, so 
paused. "Oh," was all he could consequentially say. 
 
Garak withdrew slightly, breathing a disappointed sigh. "I 
knew you would back down. Doctor," he added apologetically. 
"I hold great value to our relationship, and perhaps I was 
a fool to risk it today -- but I needed to know . . . 
desperately." 
 
Julian turned away, and his position allowed him a smile. 
"Well . . . I mean who knows? I *am* tense. Maybe this 
technique is exactly the thing I need," he murmured. He 
could almost see Garak's widening eyes. 
 
"Doctor?" 
 
The young man smiled mischievously as he swiveled and 
approached Garak. "Call me Julian . . ." he breathed.  " . 
. .Elim." 
 
The tailor's reply was drowned off by Julian's hot mouth as 
it pressed openly over Garak's pale lips. The act caught 
the tailor by surprise, despite his earlier motive. He 
found he could do little more than enlace his strong arms 
around the doctor's smooth golden back, caressing the silky 
skin with gentle care as he responded to Julian's kiss. 
 
As they fired an enticing dance with their tongues, Julian 
leaned back enough to fumble at Garak's tunic, searching 
and finding the fastenings to his garment. The Cardassian's 
hands regretfully left their tasks and were brought up to 
help Julian. The tunic was thusly slipped off in a swift 
fashion, and Garak's hands were once again feeling the 
smooth texture of human skin, roving about the young man's 
body as they explored each new fascinating aspect.  
 
Julian moaned softly against the tailor's lips at the 
sensations he was being given, frustrated when his hands 
were stopped by the hem of Garak's thick trousers. Thus 
breaking the kiss, he slid down the length of the 
Cardassian's body, all the while enjoying Garak's hands as 
they playfully curled into his thick hair. Connecting his 
soft gaze with the tailor's, he smiled deviously as he 
began sliding the thick fabric down the tailor's legs, 
revealing in a maddeningly slow way the Cardassian's hidden 
riches. When the trousers were curled at his ankles, Garak 
stepped out of them and pushed them aside as he pulled 
Julian up for another entrancing kiss.  
 
As they lazily explored eachother's sweetness, discovering 
what pleasured the other most while deliberately avoiding 
the ultimate delectation, Garak suddenly chuckled against 
Julian's neck. 
 
"Elim?" 
 
Garak's translucent blue eyes were once again plunging into 
Julian's deep chocolate brown eyes, hypnotizing the Human 
into a daze. "I was just thinking about how I despise the 
station's temperature . . ." the tailor explained softly. 
"And that you seem to be the only one able to -- warm me 
effectively."      
 
Somehow, the words touched him deeply, and Julian rewarded 
the Cardassian with yet another kiss. Yet this one was not 
as urgent as their earlier ones. This time, Julian took his 
time as he wandered his tongue in every soft curves of the 
tailor's mouth, nibbling at the lips, and consequently 
moving to the jaw line where he paid particular attention 
to the delicate scales rounding the ears.   
 
"Oh that feels exquisite . . ." Garak murmured. He 
instinctively brought his hands up to Julian neck, brushing 
his massive fingers against the exotic bend of his nape and 
caressing there the smooth texture with a fascinated touch. 
He had only known Cardassian lovers in his time and a few 
Bajorans during the Occupation. And even if Bajorans were 
physically similar to Humans, there was something 
entrancing about *Julian's* anatomy. The golden hue -- 
which until today had only been subject to the tailor's 
imagination -- suffused the young man's entire body, 
providing a rich and creamy look enhanced only by the 
darker hair. The human's dusky brown curls were divinely 
soft under Garak's fingers, and the tailor found himself 
becoming quickly addicted to it's delicate touch -- hairs 
so unlike his own raven mane. How little did he know that 
Julian found his as deliciously exotic.      
 
Finally they stumbled backward toward Julian's bed. 
Chuckling playfully, Garak swiveled round to press the 
doctor down on his back and carefully loomed over his lean 
frame. They still hadn't removed their briefs, and Garak 
became quickly annoyed as their movements only created more 
friction but no genuine stimulation. Thus he swiftly bent 
over and slid the cotton underwear down Julian's legs, 
revealing the firm erection. The Human gasped at the 
suddenness of the tailor's actions, but quickly gathered 
enough wit to pull the tailor over then under his wiry 
frame. Their breathing had gotten heavier with time, and 
Julian's was almost ragged with anticipation as he mirrored 
Garak's previous deed. 
  
When both were quite utterly unclad, Julian offered a 
sinuous smile as he nuzzled his face in the hollow of 
Garak's neck. As he traced a path of kisses and bites 
across the cord of the Cardassian's neck, Julian found 
himself at his ear and whispered, "You're beautiful . . ." 
and continued his previous exploration of the tailor's 
scales along the jaw. Abandoning that, he quickly found his 
way to the intricate brow where he lazily explored the 
spoon-like scale on his forehead with his tongue.  
 
"Oh my dear Julian . . ." Garak gasped, his voice choked 
with emotion. "I am nothing compared to you. . ." he 
whispered, rolling over to reward the Human for his 
compliment. As he gently nibbled at the hollow 
of Julian's throat, he snaked a hand downward  and curled a 
broad hand around Julian's erection, exerting slight 
pressure as he began caressing the smooth shaft.  
 
Julian's eyelids fluttered shut, and a moan escaped his 
throat at the powerful passion Garak had stirred. 
The tailor quickly pressed a kiss on each of his eyelids, 
then slid his tongue across Julian's sleek face to find the 
doctor's lips. 
   
After a moment of deliberately slow strokes, the hand 
retracted to pursue other explorations. Julian had been on 
the verge of protesting the withdrawal when the same hand 
found it's way around to his backside, insinuating a cool 
finger between the warm flesh. His hips reflexively pushed 
against it, and this time his cry was louder. He was close 
-- too close. He wanted to stretch the moment. 
 
Garak quickly found himself under the doctor's lean frame, 
staring up at Julian's warm, lust-filled eyes. The young 
man bent forward and whispered in the Cardassian's ear, "I 
want you inside me . . ."                  
 
Garak blinked, unprepared. He had wanted this -- wanted it 
so badly he had resolved himself to never expect it. Things 
the Cardassian had longed for in the past had usually found 
a way to sidle out of his reach, and he had expected no 
differently with Julian. Now, the human was asking him for 
the ultimate act of trust . . . the furthest intimacy 
possible, and he was asking it out of *him*, of all people. 
How he had underestimated the kind-hearted doctor!   
 
"You cannot imagine . . ." he breathed. "The nights I've 
fantasized about those very words, Julian." 
 
The human leaned back, a playful grin on his curved lips. 
"*Just* the words, or the person who's saying them as 
well?" 
 
Chuckling indulgently, Garak moved to turn Julian over. But 
the doctor stopped him. "No wait, I want to see you . . ." 
he whispered. "Wait here," he asked, getting up and moving 
to the replicator. When he came back, he kneeled between 
Garak's legs and began applying a lubricant. The cool 
feeling of the gel mixed with Julian's warm tender fingers 
threatened to bring Garak over the edge. He controlled it, 
biting his lips as he repressed the intense sensation. When 
he opened his eyes, Julian was staring down at him, a smile 
on his lips.  
 
Garak understood, and rounded his hand to his aching 
member, guiding it toward Julian's cleft as the human 
pushed down. An involuntary groan rumbled deep in Julian's 
throat as Garak's hardness stretched and filled him, two 
prominent ridges brushing against his smooth flesh and 
subsequently igniting new sensations in his body. When his 
backside rested flush against Garak's hips, Julian opened 
his eyes to find Garak in a daze, eyes closed in bliss and 
teeth biting down the pleasure on his poor victimized lips. 
However, when Julian moved, Garak bent his head backward 
and let out a cry, unable to restrain his voice any longer. 
Julian smiled contentedly, driving himself deep unto Garak, 
searching for new angles that promptly elicited wild 
abandoned cries from both men.      
 
Soon, Garak was thrusting upward to meet Julian's dives, 
firmly clasping his hands around the human's waist to 
steady their rhythm, not wanting to end their ascension so 
fast. Not like this -- not while he was so completely 
joined with his beloved Julian. 
 
Julian braced himself on Garak's broad sweaty chest, face 
crumpled in concentration as he slowed his thrusts to 
accommodate Garak's wishes. His climax was balancing 
dangerously over the edge as well, and his reticence 
mirrored the tailor's. He wanted to enjoy the moment of 
intimacy, the fact that he was Garak's, and that Garak was 
his.  
 
With a cry that was almost a sob of revelation, Julian bent 
forward and kissed Garak deeply, watching his own tears 
drip unto the tailor's cheeks.  
 
When Garak saw this, tears of his own stung his eyes, and 
he realized that Julian would never share such an intense 
moment with just anyone. The dawning that Julian's tears 
weren't of sorrow but of joyous revelation, Garak's 
hesitation flew out the window and he rounded the doctor's 
back with protective arms, deepening their kiss as passion 
flared up both their bodies almost simultaneously. 
  
It was like time had stopped. As Julian came intensely over 
Garak's belly, he paused, his body pressed completely over 
Garak's as the tailor released his own seed into Julian's 
heated depths. He cried aloud his lover's name while Julian 
whispered a string of endearments attached to the tailor's 
proper name in his ear. The arms around his back never 
released him, simply held him tightly against Garak's 
frame, both knowing that the moment had past and it was 
time to dissolve the closeness.    
 
Julian blinked open his eyes, and realized he had relaxed 
into Garak's embrace, feeling both of his arms bent between 
their glistening bodies. Garak's features were peaceful 
with rapture, and he refused to let his hold on Julian 
relax. He rolled to the side, spilling Julian unto the bed, 
and opened his eyes.  
 
"Julian . . ." he whispered, his gaze suddenly quizzical 
with an unanswered question. His reptilian skin shone with 
sweat, and a single strand of misplaced hair fell across 
his forehead where it tickled the skin.  
 
The young human nodded and pushed the strand aside 
lovingly. "Yes . . ." Not an inquiry . . . an 
understanding. Julian knew and understood.        
 
"I've never felt so . . . intense with anyone," Garak 
admitted, pushed to somehow voice his feelings even though 
Julian understood. "I'm afraid of it, in some way."  
 
"Me too . . . but it doesn't mean I don't want it," Julian 
murmured. 
 
Garak closed his eyes and pulled Julian closer. "Nor would 
I ever let you go . . . I promise you Julian, I shall not 
permit that."  
 
There was an ensuing silence, broken only by their quieting 
breathing. Both tried to sort through their jumbled 
feelings, all the while delighting in the other's warm 
presence. 
  
An hour later, Julian quietly slipped out of bed to prepare 
for his lecture. When he had showered, slipped into his 
uniform and groomed, he left the tailor hard at sleep and 
insouciant of his beloved Julian as he slithered out of his 
quarters, whispering his thanks for such a wonderful 
preparation. As he entered the small auditorium, the only 
thought which kept his smile was Garak's unique scent left 
on his uniform, filling him with confidence.   
 
~~~ 
 
When the people at the medical conference on DS9 dispersed, 
Dr Beverly Crusher walked off with Dr. Emily Rotrell, both 
discussing the lecture they'd just listened to. 
  
"You know, I've been told that Dr Bashir was supposed to be 
awful at public speeches," Rotrell said. 
 
Crusher stole a glance at the podium, where Bashir was 
happily gathering his padds. "Well, whatever you've heard, 
it certainly didn't seem that way today. Heavens, I've 
never seen someone brimming with so much enthusiasm and 
confidence!" 
 
Rotrell nodded confidentially at Crusher as they crossed 
the Promenade. "Must be a new love in his life," she smiled 
knowingly.  
 
THE END