Sacrifice for the Sake of Light
DS9-G/B-NC17 
Kathryn Ramage
December 1998

Summary: Garak brings Bashir back to Cardassia with 
him when he is restored to power, but Bashir has a
difficult time adjusting to his new environment and
Garak is forced to make a difficult decision.

Setting: This is a "what-if" scenario, taken from 
Garak's musings in my stories "An Emotional State" and 
"The Bond Not Broken" on why he couldn't possibly take 
Bashir to Cardassia.  The situation described here is 
a speculation on what might have happened if Tain's 
plans described in those two stories had been successful.

Rating: NC17, for explicit m/m sex.

Disclaimer: Paramount owns Star Trek, DS9, and the 
characters. This story was written for personal 
amusement and should not be taken as intended 
copyright infringement.

-=*)]![(*=--=*)]![(*=--=*)]![(*=--=*)]![(*=-

Garak stepped into the forehall of the townhouse that 
Tain had provided for him in the heart of Cardassia 
Prime's capitol city, and he looked up.  The house 
dated from the Faltek Age and had all the architectural 
features of that period; the forehall was windowless, 
open up to the vaulted arches of the roof five floors
above.  His eyes ran along each of the galleries that 
looked out over this cavernous space, searching in the 
reddish light cast from the windows at the back of the 
house for the silhouette of one who was not there.

A door on the ground-floor level opened and a servant 
emerged.

"Master Garak, I'm so sorry!  We did not expect you 
until tomorrow evening!"

Garak brushed the apology aside.  "Where is he?"

"You will most likely find him in your sleep-chambers, 
sir."

"At this time of day?  Is he ill?"

"I'm sorry to say, sir, that there are many days when 
the poor young man does not get out of bed at all."

The servant spoke with a tone of sympathetic concern, 
but Garak did not miss the hopeful glint of malice in 
his eyes. The servants were always bringing him their 
complaints in the guise of worry for 'the poor young 
man.'  

"I'll see to it," Garak said, and the servant did not
attempt to hide his smile.

Although Garak had tried to make it clear that his 
chosen mate was master of this house whether *he* was 
at home or not, the staff were still Cardassians, even 
if they were menials, and old bigotries were not easily 
set aside. They continued to defer to him as the true 
master here. They were always eager to tell him what 
disruptions his human was causing in the household 
routine, always hoping that he would mete out 
appropriate punishment.

He took the lift to the third floor rather than climb 
the spiraling stairway that curved around the lift-
shaft.  He had no intention of punishing anyone--
though of course the staff would have to be dismissed.

As for his more pressing problem, he knew what had
to be done.  The mechanism had already been set into
motion.

The sleep-chamber was empty. The bed, however, was a 
rumpled mess and the room was freezing, to counteract 
the oppressive heat of Cardassia's summer.  On the 
other hand, the lights were dimmed and the heavy, 
rust-colored velvet hangings had been drawn over the 
windows.  When he'd first brought Julian here, his 
mate had kept all the lights on and regularly flung 
the drapes open to drive back the gloomy splendor 
of their home.

In the aftermath of Cardassia's victory over the 
Dominion and the destruction of the Founders' home-
world, as well as the coup that had restored Enabran 
Tain to powers he had not dreamed of in the old days, 
Garak was invited to return home.  He had played a 
part in creating this new regime; for his services, 
his past transgressions were forgiven and he was 
offered a position of great prominence in the 
Obsidian Order. He could not have refused if he'd 
wanted to.

He'd brought Julian with him.  Again, there had been 
little choice: They'd been pair-bonded for some time, 
and Julian had been with him when Tain had made his 
offer.  In all the political upheaval, it would have 
been dangerously difficult to send the doctor safely 
back to Deep Space Nine.  Julian had been very brave 
once the situation was explained to him. He'd declared, 
with all that naive integrity and devotion that Garak 
had learned to adore, that his place was with his mate.

And so they had come to Cardassia Prime, the capitol 
city, and this dark and forbidding townhouse.  Julian 
had tried to make the best of it.  He'd learned the 
workings of a Cardassian household, made an effort to 
manage the servants. He'd listened attentively as 
Garak explained the nuances of Cardassian manners 
and social customs, and copied them as best he could. 
He explored the city, to introduce himself to his new 
home.

Cardassia met him with cool reserve: Some were
studiously polite, some gave him barely-veiled 
sneers and insults, but they all distrusted his 
presence.  As a society, they disapproved of Garak's 
bringing him here.  For a gregarious young man who 
needed to be liked, this universal rebuff was 
crushing.

It wouldn't have been so bad if Garak's assignments 
had not taken him offworld so often.  Tain had seen 
to that: Garak would be sent away, sometimes for
weeks at a time, and his human mate was left alone 
with no company except for the servants.  

Julian ventured out less and less, even with the 
security of Garak at his side--and if he didn't get 
up anymore, Garak thought it extremely unlikely that 
Julian had been out of the house at all since the 
last time he'd been home.

Garak looked into the other rooms of the master suite
--bathroom, dressing chambers, the private dining nook
that overlooked the enclosed gardens behind the house
--then he went upstairs to the fourth level.

He found Julian in the solarium, asleep on a lounge 
that should have been set against the wall in the bower 
between two flowering agapanthias--at some point 
during his absence, it had been dragged out to the 
center of the room, where the sunlight fell directly 
upon it through most of the afternoon.  Julian was 
wearing only a pair of briefs and a light silk robe.
A thin rivulet of perspiration trailed down his bare 
chest and some sort of pinkish drink was set on the 
floor beside him; the ice had melted and droplets of
condensation ran down the outside of the glass.  There 
were also streaks of dried moisture on the sleeping 
man's face and throat; at first glance, Garak took 
this for perspiration as well.  Then he realized that 
they were tears.

"Dearest?" he spoke softly as he sat on the edge of
the lounge near Julian's feet.

"Wh-?" Julian's eyes fluttered open.  "Oh, Elim."  He
smiled sleepily and sat up for a hug.  "I didn't think
you'd be home `til tomorrow."

"Yes, I know.  I'm a little early.  I hope you don't
mind."  A quick kiss; he tasted the salty residue on
Julian's lips.  "Are you well, Love?  The servants
tell me you've been staying in bed."

"I'm fine.  It's just that I-" his dark eyes glittered. 
"When you're not here, it just doesn't seem as if 
there's anything worth getting up for."

Garak brought him into his arms, rubbed his back
soothingly.  "I'm here now.  You'll have a reason to be 
up this evening--it's why I came home early.  We're 
having visitors tonight."

"Elim, no," Julian moaned against his shoulder.  "Not
your associates.  Not tonight."

"Not my associates," Garak assured him.  

His old friends and new colleagues in the Obsidian 
Order had been to the house often when he'd first 
returned home, but he'd ceased to invite them once it 
became obvious how uncomfortable their attention made 
Julian. He should have seen it beforehand: to the 
average Cardassian, humans were an inferior species, 
weak, soft, and impractical, but to the more 
sophisticated, humans were also intriguingly exotic.  
His friends were curious. With his slender, androgynous 
figure, Julian did not appear overtly male to the 
Cardassian eye, and his shyness--the way he kept his 
gaze down in order not to seem provocative--was easily 
mistaken for submissive coquetry.  No one would dare 
to infringe upon *his* human, but their eyes followed 
Julian whenever he ventured into their company, and 
their compliments were suspiciously eloquent.  Garak 
had decided it was safer to avoid subjecting Julian 
to these awkward situations.

And, though Garak would barely admit it to himself,
he was secretly afraid that one of his 'friends' 
would come by while he was away and offer this lonely 
young man a few kind words, a little comfort in a 
hostile world,...and who knew what else?  Could he 
really blame Julian if he were to fall prey to such 
blandishments?

"These guests will please you." He tugged Julian 
up from the lounge.  "Come now, my dear one.  Get 
dressed.  They'll be here soon."

Julian made a few more feeble protests, but he did 
get up.  His foot struck the glass on the floor, 
accidentally knocking it over.

Arm about the slender waist--more slender than usual;
Julian had lost some weight--Garak escorted his mate 
down to their bedroom.  As he went into Julian's 
dressing chamber to select suitable clothing, Julian 
flopped back on the unmade bed.

"I try, Elim," he said.  "You know I do. I read--I've 
read every book in the library.  I cut the flowers in 
the garden when it isn't too hot to go outside.  I try
to find things to do, but there just isn't enough to 
fill up a day.  

"I thought I could give up everything as long as I had 
you--but I can't live like this!  When you're gone, 
there is *nothing*.  I sit here, alone in the dark, like 
a toy in a box waiting for you to take me out and play 
with me." He sniffled.  "Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if 
I weren't shut up in this mausoleum.  I feel as if I've 
been buried alive."

He folded his arms across his chest, right hand at left 
shoulder, left at right.  Garak was not well versed in 
human funerary rituals, but he had seen this particular 
pose before.

"You're not dead yet," he snapped in plain fear at 
Julian's dangerous attitude.   

There was another burst of tears, more violent this time.  
Julian rolled to his side and curled up on himself.

Tossing a shirt and pair of slacks on a nearby chair, 
Garak went to the bed and crawled in beside him.  "Hush, 
my love." He gathered Julian close.  "It's going to be 
all right.  You'll be going away from here soon, to a 
place where you will be happier."

"Trenellus?" Julian asked hopefully, like a child
placated by a promise.  He shifted within the embrace 
to put his arms up around Garak's shoulders.  "You've 
spoken of it so often, I can see it clearly in my mind.  
The country house, kilometers from anywhere.  The fields 
with their flowers. A brighter sun."  

He had once hoped to send Julian to Tain's estate on 
Trenellus II; Garak had spent a part of his childhood
there and he knew that his human would find that 
environment more hospitable than Cardassia Prime. But 
that was not what he planned now.  "No, not Trenellus," 
he answered.  

He gave his mate a light kiss, and Julian responded 
with an enthusiasm that caught him by surprise, given 
the younger man's teary lethargy.  Hungry kisses 
covered his face.  Urgent tugs fought to unfasten 
his clothes.  Julian's hips thrusts eagerly against
his own.

He pulled back slightly.  "Belov-"

"Elim, please," Julian murmured.  "This is all I have.  
I've lost everything else--I have nothing without you."

"That's not so."

"*Please*."

Their guests would be arriving very soon...but surely 
they had a little time, just enough for this?

Garak eased Julian out of the robe, trailed kisses over 
his bare shoulders, down his chest.  He sat up briefly
to remove his own tunic and drop it carefully over the
side of the bed; Julian lay watching him with tear-
bright, hopeful eyes and, once Garak had shed his trousers
and moved to lower himself onto the supine, waiting body,
threw his arms about him and drew him down.

"Elim..." Julian moaned softly; he repeated it several
times between kisses, as if he were simply happy to
say the name, to acknowledge that the man belonging to 
it was here with him at last. 

Shudders ran through his body at their joining, and
his soft cries grew more eager.  He reached up to brush 
at Garak's shoulders, his hair, his face, until Garak 
entwined the frantic, fluttering fingers with his own 
hands and pinned them to the sheets beside Julian's 
shoulders.  

Braced on his forearms, the Cardassian thrust more 
deeply into this alien creature he had captured.  His
most treasured possession.  His prize.  This was more 
than an act of love--for this moment, Julian belonged 
wholly to him and meant his human to know it, to 
remember it always.   

Julian threw back his head and cried out his lover's 
name once again. His body writhed, torso arching, legs 
tightening around Garak's back. The muscles in his arms 
twitched, but he did not fight against the restraint.  
He began to pant, eyelids fluttering as he retreated 
into himself.  He took what was given him, savored each 
stroke.  In his last coherent seconds, Garak thought
that he would like to recall his beloved this way, 
caught enraptured.

He could not place the moment of his mate's climax, 
lost as he was his own peak, but when he came to 
himself again, Julian lay still and quiet beneath him.

He rolled to one side, holding Julian close to his chest.  
The young man's head lay tucked against his shoulder; an 
odd sensation of hot wetness trickling into the hollow 
at the base of his throat puzzled him, then he realized 
that these were fresh tears. 
  
"Julian?"

Julian lifted his head and wiped his face with the 
back of one hand.  "I'm sorry.  I can't seem to stop 
crying.  I waited so long for you--I didn't think I 
could stand it if you were gone another day.  Elim, 
don't ever leave me again."

"I won't," he answered, knowing, as Julian must, that 
it was a promise that couldn't be kept.  "It's going 
to be all right, my love. Please, believe that."

The house-comm chimed; he stretched one arm up across
Julian to reach the panel at the bedside. "Yes, what 
is it?"

"Mr. Garak, there are...people here to see you," one 
of the servants announced.  "They claim to have an 
appointment."

"I am expecting them," he replied.  "Make them welcome 
and inform them that we will be down to receive them 
momentarily."

"Elim, no," Julian moaned again.

"Come," he pulled Julian up and half-dragged him into 
bathroom.  There was no time for leisurely use of the
steam-chamber and baths; he took Julian into the shower, 
stood with him under the spray though the water was
cool enough for human comfort, lathered him up and 
brought him out wrapped in towels.  He dressed himself 
quickly, while Julian dawdled over his socks and 
underwear.

"I must go and greet our guests," Garak told him.  "I
won't have to come back up here and bring you down,
will I?"

Julian met his spouse's unwavering gaze.  He saw that 
Garak wasn't going to allow him to hide away upstairs.  
"No, Elim," he answered.

"Come down when you are ready."

-=*)]![(*=-

In a churlish but perhaps understandable display of
imperfect hospitality, the servants had left his guests 
standing in the cavernous forehall.  As Garak rode the 
lift down, the trio waiting below turned to peer up at 
him.  Cardassia's sun had sunk low and the last of the 
dull reddish light shone only on the highest portions 
of the front wall--barely enough for even a native 
Cardassian to see by.  

"I really must apologize," Garak began as he stepped 
off the lift.  "I've only been home a short time myself.
He isn't ready yet."

"Can I go up to see him?" one of the guests inquired.

"Yes, that might be helpful.  He's in the master suite 
on the third level."

"Is he decent?"

"He was dressing when I left him.  I haven't given 
him time to prepare for this--Perhaps you can assist 
him?  He will have questions. You may answer a few,
but not all.  I will explain the situation fully when 
you bring him down."

The guest nodded, understanding what she was asked to 
do.  As the lift ascended, Garak turned to the two 
remaining visitors. 

"Gentlemen, may I offer you some refreshment while 
we're waiting?"

-=*)]![(*=-

Slowly, reluctantly, Julian put on the clothes Garak 
had laid out for him.  He didn't want to go downstairs 
at all, hated the thought of meeting strange 
Cardassians who would smirk as they spoke to him and 
follow his every movement with coolly contemptuous,
appraising eyes.  If he thought he could get away with 
it, he would climb back into his robe and get into bed 
to wait for Elim to finish whatever business had called 
him away. But he had been asked specifically to join 
the company and he couldn't linger up here indefinitely.

He was fastening his shirt when he heard the door to 
the lift rattle open, and then the click of boots on 
the polished wood floor in the hallway just outside.  
An unfamiliar rhythm.  Not Garak.  Not one of the 
servants. Who...?

"Julian?"

At the familiar voice, he froze where he stood, not 
quite believing his ears, and then Dax came in.

"Jadzia! Wh-"  He was immediately caught in a fierce 
hug.  "Jadzia," Julian tried again, breathless at 
being squeezed so hard.  "What are you doing here?"

"We've come to take you back to DS9." She held him 
away by the shoulders to have a look at him; no sign 
of surprise showed on her face at how pale and thin 
he was, nor at the memory of how light he had 
felt in her arms.  She smiled.  "Captain Sisko and 
Chief O'Brien are downstairs--Garak asked me to help 
you get ready to leave."

"So quickly?" Julian laughed in surprise.  "But you
just got here!  We haven't even had a chance to
talk..."  He stepped back toward the bed, slightly 
embarrassed, and pulled up the coverlet to conceal 
the stained and rumpled sheets, then hastily sat down; 
Dax tactfully overlooked the disorder and went about 
locating a traveling case. 

"There isn't much time," she answered as she set 
the case on the bed beside Julian.  "We're here at 
Garak's personal request--the Cardassian government 
won't like it if the Defiant stays in orbit too long."

"Garak asked you...?" 

"Oh, you can hear all about that later. We'll have 
plenty of time to talk once we're on our way home."

"Home," said Julian.  He opened the case, still dazed 
by how quickly things were happening; a minute ago, 
he'd thought he would never see Jadzia or any of his 
old friends ever again--and now she was here, and he 
was going to leave Cardassia.  Garak had arranged this. 
As Dax tossed the first garments from his dressing 
chamber to him, he began to fold them automatically. 
"We're going home."

"You have so many nice things," the Trill observed,
openly impressed as she went though Julian's wardrobe,
pulling silk shirts and velvet and brocade tunics off 
their hangers.  

"Elim wanted me to be well-dressed," Julian replied.
"I'm the spouse of a prominent official in the new 
regime--He wanted to show me off.  When we first came 
here, he used to go shopping with me, to choose the 
fabrics and tell the clothiers exactly how he wanted 
me to appear.  He made me wear my best outfits when 
he took me to see the enigma tales at the State 
Theatre, and to the hanging gardens at the Temple at 
Ayzhet Thora."  

"It sounds wonderful."

"It was early spring then--not so terribly hot 
outside.  Elim said we might take a tour of the 
Hebitian ruins this winter, after the weather had
turned.  See the ancient burial vaults."  He bent 
to pick up his robe, which had fallen on the floor 
when Garak had taken him into the shower.  "I don't 
suppose I'll wear these very often once we're back 
on the station."  He shook the robe out before 
tucking it into an inner pocket of the case.

Dax came to stand at the closet doorway.  "You don't 
sound glad to be going home," she said. 

"I am," he looked up at her with wide-eyed sincerity.
"Jadzia, you don't know what it was like, seeing you
walk in just now.  If Captain Sisko or Miles had come 
upstairs with you, I think I would've flung myself 
into their arms."  Julian couldn't help a small smile 
at the thought.

Jadzia returned his smile.  "They wouldn't have
minded, just this once.  We've all missed you too."
The smile faded.  "What is it then?" 

"When I was about ten," he began, "my parents sent 
me to a holiday camp on the Lunar colony for a summer. 
I lasted two weeks. I couldn't eat--the lighter gravity 
made me nauseous.  I was homesick.  After awhile, the 
camp counselors had to ask my parents to come and get 
me.  It's like that now--'Mom and Dad' have come to 
take me home again.  I've failed. I've failed *him*."

"He doesn't see it that way, Julian. I was there when 
Benjamin received Garak's message.  He's very worried
for you. He knows how unhappy you've been."

"But I'm forcing him to abandon everything for my
sake," Julian answered.  *He's* home.  This is all he 
dreamed of when he was in exile: He's in Tain's favor 
once again.  He has power, a position.  It's everything 
he ever wanted, except for me, and I'm ruining it for 
him because I can't live here."
 
Dax, who had turned to pull more articles of clothing 
out of the tall chest of drawers, glanced up at him; 
there was a momentary hesitation before she told him, 
"It's what Garak wants for you, Julian. Try to remember 
that."  

A sudden suspicion flickered in Julian's mind, and 
he leapt to his feet.  "No!  He promised-"

"Julian-" 

But he had already left the room.

-=*)]![(*=-

After Dax had gone upstairs, Garak showed Sisko and 
O'Brien into the ground-floor reception lounge. Tall, 
tinted glass doors looked out onto the garden; if he 
were alone, Garak would have opened them to let in the 
rising evening breeze that was ruffling through broad, 
dark leaves of the kassit trees that bordered the 
upper terrace, but out of consideration for his human 
guests, he left the doors shut and turned the lights 
up more brightly. 

A few bottles of Earth beverages were stored in the 
black roqa-wood cabinets--he had taken the trouble of 
importing them for Julian--and both men accepted his 
offer of drinks.  

"I want to thank you for coming here so swiftly,"
Garak said as he poured the glasses out.  He knew that 
these men didn't like him, didn't trust him, had never 
approved of his relationship with Bashir and almost 
certainly blamed him for taking their doctor away.  
But he had summoned them for Julian's sake, and they 
could not refuse that plea.

"How is he?" asked Sisko.

"I'm afraid he might be dying," Garak confessed.  

"Dying?" O'Brien burst out in alarm.

"You didn't tell me he was ill," the captain added.

"He's not ill.  It's simply that he can't survive
in this environment.  I told you that he is unhappy, 
but it is more than that.  There are things he needs: 
his medical practice, the companionship of his own 
kind.  I cannot provide them for him here, and without 
them, he has no sense of purpose.  He does not thrive.  
What I have seen since my return tonight alarms me.  
He hasn't been eating.  He sleeps...too much. He is 
dangerously depressed."  

"You knew this would happen, bringing Julian to 
Cardassia," said O'Brien.

Garak didn't bristle at this accusation; he had 
condemned himself as harshly for the same reason.
"Yes, I knew it would be difficult for him to adapt.
I'd hoped that, eventually, he would learn..." He
poured a glass of kanar for himself.  "The mistake 
was mine, and now I am attempting to correct it."  

Sisko was considering him solemnly.  "You haven't 
told him yet," he said. 

"No," Garak answered.  "I am waiting for the right 
opportunity--and you will remember, Captain, that you 
agreed that this was the best way.  Once he learns 
that you've come for him alone, he'll only become 
emotional and difficult to handle.  He may refuse to 
go."

"What'll you do if he does?" O'Brien asked.

"Julian must leave," Garak said simply.  "I will do 
whatever is necessary to see that he does.  You need 
not concern yourselves with my methods, only carry 
out your part and convey him safely away from here."

"You could come with us," the captain offered--a 
surprising act of generosity.

He shook his head. "That isn't possible."

Garak had no doubt that Cardassia's defense net had 
detected the Defiant as soon as it entered their space, 
and that the planet's security was quite aware of the 
Federation warship now in orbit--and that it was only 
allowed to remain unchallenged at Tain's sufferance.  
They were not currently at war with the Federation and 
Tain would not object, would probably be pleased, if 
his human spouse were gone.  But after restoring him 
to an exalted position in this new government, Garak 
knew that Tain would not permit him to leave again.  
If the Defiant tried to leave Cardassian space with 
him aboard, they might never reach DS9.

While they had been talking, Garak continued to listen 
for the lift, expecting Lt. Dax to return at any moment 
with Julian and his baggage in tow. He was not looking 
forward to explaining the situation to his mate, nor 
to the argument which must follow, but he was prepared 
to deal with it.
 
Instead of the lift, however, he was surprised to hear 
the sound of footsteps pounding down the circular 
stairway.

Julian burst into the lounge. 

"Captain!  Miles!"  He didn't hug them, and the men 
were more reserved than Dax, bestowing only brisk pats 
to his back and shoulders, but they were just as glad 
to see him, and just as surprised at his condition.  
But Julian seemed more like his old spirited self 
than Garak had seen in a long time; he was out-of-
breath from running downstairs, bright with smiles, 
and there was a lilt in his voice as he turned from 
his friends to his spouse.  "Elim, you never said who 
our guests were! Why didn't you *tell* me?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise," Garak answered. 

"You and your secrets."  His eyes were alight too,
flashing with emotion--and yet there was something 
else there, something that was not surprise nor joy 
nor even a playful indignation to match his teasing 
words. "Jadzia tells me we're to leave Cardassia 
right away."

"Yes, after the good captain, Lt. Dax, and Chief
O'Brien have been so kind to come all this way at a 
moment's notice, we mustn't take advantage of their 
generosity by keeping them longer than necessary.  
Are you prepared to depart?"

"Dax is just finishing up the packing.  We have a 
little time to make our guests more welcome." His 
hand rested lightly on Sisko's forearm.  "Enjoy your 
drinks.  Perhaps we can show Miles and the captain 
around the house--After all, we won't have another
chance."  Julian laughed.  "The servants will be so 
surprised when they find the house abandoned. And 
what will happen when Tain learns you've left 
Cardassia?" 

Dax came in then; she threw an anxious, apologetic 
look at him over Julian's shoulder, and Garak knew 
that she had been indiscrete; Julian had been told
enough to guess the truth.  He could not delay any 
longer. "I'm afraid, my dearest," he answered Julian's 
pointed question, "I won't be going with you."

Julian nodded, his suspicions confirmed.  "Then I 
won't go either," he announced. 
 
Garak sighed and set down his drink. "Julian, please, 
don't make this difficult. I am thinking only of your 
welfare."  He slipped one hand into his tunic pocket.

"Thinking of me," the young man retorted.  "How 
could you think I'd agree to leave without you? Did 
you even *think* of asking me?  Or did you plan to 
let me go on believing you were coming along until 
after I beamed up to the ship and it was too late 
for me to do anything about it?"
 
As a matter of fact, Garak had considered exactly
that course of action.  It would have been far less
painful than this scene, and far less awkward than
squabbling in front of Julian's old companions and 
commander--all of whom looked embarrassed at being 
witness to this disagreement and very likely to 
intervene at any moment.

Sisko spoke first: "Julian, we can't force you to 
come with us, but I'd like you to reconsider.  This 
is in your best interests--it's obvious you aren't 
able to cope with living on Cardassia.  You look as 
if you've been ill."

"It's been nothing but misery for you, hasn't it?"
O'Brien added.

"I'm fine," Julian insisted.  "I know you're only
trying to help, but I won't be carried off to DS9 like 
a homesick child!" He threw a desperate glance back 
to Dax for assistance.  "It will take time, but I'll 
adjust. I'll learn how to live here. I'll become 
Cardassian if I have to." 

Garak stepped closer.  "My love, you are not Cardassian. 
You don't belong here." 

"I *belong* with you! Wherever that is." He was 
almost pleading now.  When Garak took him by the arm, 
Julian leaned in to the touch.  His arms went around 
Garak's waist as if he could win this argument by 
holding on to him physically.  "I can try harder.  
Elim, damn it, you can't just send me away."

"It is for the best."  Garak slipped one hand up 
behind Julian's head to pull it down to his shoulder.  
"Ssh, dear.  Stop fighting me.  It will be all right, 
you'll see."  He gently kissed his temple.

"I won't leave you," Julian insisted.

They were getting nowhere; Julian stubbornly refused 
to listen to reason, just as Garak had known he would.  
Fortunately, he had prepared for this contingency. 

He took out the hypospray he had placed in his tunic 
pocket before he'd entered the house, and pressed it 
to the base of Julian's neck; Julian pulled back from 
him, startled by the hiss of injection.  The last image 
Garak would have of his beloved was of Julian with a 
reproachful look in his eyes and his mouth open in one 
last attempt to protest before he slipped from his arms 
and dropped to the carpet.

The other Federation people cried out as he fell.

"What did you do to him?" O'Brien demanded as he and 
Dax dropped to kneel beside Julian.

Garak held up the hypospray.  "Nephezine. It's a mild 
sedative, harmless to humans," he assured them. "He'll 
sleep for about half an hour.  By that time, you should 
be well on your way to DS9."

"Was *that* necessary?" Sisko thundered.

"You knew as well as I that he would not agree to leave 
quietly. I don't like resorting to force any more than 
you do, but we had little choice." He knew he had offended 
their tender Federation sensibilities, but they would see 
eventually that he was only acting for Julian's good--
he hoped that, in time, Julian would understand as well.  
"Captain Sisko, will you take him now before he regains 
consciousness?  Please."

-=*)]![(*=-

When Julian opened his eyes, he was lying in the 
familiar surroundings of his old quarters on the 
Defiant.  The luggage Dax had packed for him was 
sitting in the center of the room, and Dax herself 
was seated beside his bunk; she caught him by the 
shoulders as he sat upright.

"It's all right," she said gently.  "We're on our 
way home."

"We have to go back."

She shook her head.  "Captain Sisko promised.  We
all did."

"*I* didn't. I never had a choice." He swung his legs
over the edge of the bed and, as he sat forward out of 
the shadow of the upper bunk, winced at the unaccustomed
bright light.  "You knew, didn't you, that he never 
intended to leave Cardassia with us?"

"We knew," Dax answered.  "Julian, I'm sorry."  

"He lied to me--I thought we were past that now, but
he deliberately lied and lied and lied from the 
minute he came home.  He wouldn't tell me that you 
were coming to keep me from asking questions.  When you 
did arrive, he went on lying, and you all went along
with him until I put him in a position where he had to 
finally tell me the truth.  And when I resisted..."  
He shook his head briskly, still a little woozy from 
the sedative.  "Did you know he was going to knock 
me out like that?"

"No.  None of us expected that.  We were shocked 
when he did it, but Julian," her voice lowered, "I 
believe he saw it as the only way to save you in spite
of yourself.  I've been thinking about it since we 
beamed up.  What would you have done if you'd been 
given a choice?"

"I would have stayed," he answered immediately.

"Even if it made you miserable? You *were* miserable,
admit it--we could all see that much for ourselves."

"Not when Garak was with me."

"And when he wasn't there?"

"All right," Julian admitted.  "When his work took him
away, I couldn't stand it.  It was hell, and every time 
Tain sent him on another assignment, it was worse than 
before.  I don't think I could've taken it the next 
time."

"If Garak saw that, it must have terrified him. It's 
understandable that you're angry, but don't hate him 
for what he did. It couldn't have been easy for him 
to let you go, but he gave you up because he cared more 
for your happiness--if he loved you less, he would have 
kept you with him."

"I don't hate him," Julian answered.  "I miss him already."  
He rubbed his temple. "I wish Elim had explained it to me 
on those terms, instead of convincing me with a hypospray."

"Maybe he'll be able to one day."  She gave his hands 
a tender squeeze.  "Wait for it, Julian. You're still 
bonded to each other and as long as you have that, it 
isn't ended yet."

Julian twitched his lips into the barest smile at this 
attempt to comfort him.  "If you don't mind, Jadzia, 
I'd like to be alone for awhile."

She consented and rose from her seat beside him on
the bunk.  "I'll go and tell Benjamin you're awake.
When you're feeling up to it, I'm sure he'd like to
talk to you about your future on DS9, getting your 
old job back."

"I'll see him a little later." 

"You'll be all right?"

He nodded.  "I won't do anything rash. I just need 
some time to think."

After Dax had gone, he sat on the edge of the bunk; 
he could feel the speed of the ship around him as 
it raced out of Cardassian space, and took him farther 
away from Garak with every second.  

He would not try to return to Cardassia.  As much as he 
wanted to be with Elim, Julian acknowledged to himself 
that he was relieved to be off that oppressively hot 
world and out of that gloomy townhouse.  If Garak weren't 
still there, he would be delighted never to see the place 
again.

He wanted to believe that Dax was right and Garak would 
follow him someday.  It could happen: The political 
balance of Cardassia was unstable since Tain's coup, 
with survivors from the old regime and the dissident 
movement working from both sides to undermine the new 
government.  Tain's new Cardassian order could collapse
--and, if his fate should turn and Garak found himself 
out of power once again, Julian was certain his mate 
would find a way to come to him.  

When that day came, he would no doubt scream furiously
at Garak for sedating him, then grab him and initiate
a welcoming bout of lovemaking that would match their
farewell.   

He was willing to wait for it.

And what would he do while he waited? He knew that 
his friends were expecting him to resume his post as 
CMO on Deep Space Nine; that was what he would like most
himself, but first he had to be outside of walls for
awhile.  He desperately needed to see blue skies and 
a yellow sun, green trees and grass.  Could he return to
Earth for a sabbatical?  At least, he intended to spend 
a few weeks on Bajor.  Perhaps he would visit his family;
during these past months, he had often thought about his 
parents and all the things he had left unsettled with 
them. 

While he waited, there were possibilities. For the 
first time in a long time, he had things to do.

He was a little bewildered by the vistas that suddenly 
lay open before him, a little frightened at prospect 
of facing them alone, but he was ready to begin. Right
now, he felt more like getting up and seeking out 
Sisko for that talk than dimming the lights and curling 
up in bed. He didn't feel like crying at all.

-=*)]end[(*=-


Kathryn Ramage        kramage@erols.com
*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*
The following tale of alien encounters is true.
By true, I mean false. It's all lies, but
they're entertaining lies--and, in the end,
isn't that the real truth?  The answer is no.

Leonard Nimoy, hosting The Simpsons
*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*