‘Hesitantly a hand emerges from the sleeve of the (embroidered! wow it must be designer) peacoat and takes the scarf.
“Thank you, I didn’t think it would snow.“’
For bmouse’s amazing Scott Pilgrim!AU “Julian Bashir’s Precious Little Life“ *3* there’re some AUs and you’re like mmm nice and then there’s this one and you’re like yeS THIS IS PERFECT EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS PERFECT ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS CLICK TOGETHER JUST AS THEY SHOULD YES
Great art for a great fic. <3
“How long do people live? In your family?”
They were sitting on the porch, him in a proper sitting position and his housemate with his delicate Human feet dangling down over the edge. A sloped old-fashioned awning protected them from the hissing rain. He looked out into the garden that was standing valiantly against the million little blows, tilting his head slightly to show he’d heard the question and was just taking his time with the answer.
Commission done for @bmouse on her amazing fic A Long-term Plot, which is really good and everyone should read it (and other her stuff)!
Love all her fics. <3
Also has anyone in the DS9 fandom every written a story
A story where Julian goes back to the station after the whole fandango and end of the dominiom war and everythings kinda fucking weird of course for clear reasons but then like it gets worse
Because someone has to clean out Garaks quarters and his shop. He left basically everything behind and Julian is stuck between not wanting to go near it and think about the fact Garak is gone from his life, quite likely forever, but also protective of it and unwilling to let anyone else deal with it because Garak is a very private person and he wouldn’t want just anyone going through his stuff so Julian is really the only acceptable option.
So it’s just a story of him sifting through the life left behind and regretting how things ended and just
I wanna read that story. Is it out there? Direct me to it if it does.
Oh please someone write this.
Y’all can’t tell me Julian “I am fascinated by Garak’s mystery” Bashir wouldn’t be (at least, initially) chomping at the bit to discover some interesting tidbit or other about Elim “I guess I am a spy after all” Garak.
Julian would totally be hyped to sift through Garak’s stuff. He’d treat everything like it’s a potential bomb or poison or secret gadget. Until he actually does find something. Something illegal or grotesque (a memento of Garak’s former occupation perhaps) tucked away someplace no ordinary Starfleet officer would bother to look.
Guys. I did the thing.
Uncertain Times
When he’d come back to the Station after listening to the death tolls on Cardassia, he couldn’t believe how strange it looked. It was almost as if he were seeing it through new eyes, which, he supposed, he actually was, given everything that had happened. But more importantly, since the monumental shift had happened in his mind. The numbers on Cardassia were…he couldn’t wrap his head around them. Oh, he understood them in terms of reading them, but beyond that, the sheer enormity of the loss…
He’d had no destination in mind as he wandered through the promenade. No thought to be anywhere, except that he had to get away from the others, to be alone with his churning thoughts. Somehow though, his feet had led him to Garak’s shop, locked and dark since he’d left for the rebellion. The lock had been oddly simple to crack, and soon Julian was inside, seated on the tailor’s plush cushion in the backroom, where Garak used to spend a good deal of his time working on projects out of the public eye, and more recently, cracking Cardassian codes for the Federation. He’d left the lights off, but as soon as his eyes had acclimated, he’d been looking around as though he’d never seen the place before, despite having spent multiple tea breaks with Garak in this very room through the years. He was only disturbed once, by Colonel Kira telling him that she’d given the senior staff the next week off, and that she expected him to take it, but aside from that, the shop was quiet. That first night, he didn’t know when he’d fallen asleep, but he woke hours later, on the settee in Garak’s back room, staring at the ceiling, waiting to hear Garak’s footsteps coming to ask him about their latest book, only to remember that he likely wouldn’t be hearing his voice ever again. Shaking off the dread, he’d left the shop, thankfully still under the cover of station’s night and slipped back to his own quarters for a much needed shower and rest. But the next day, he’d again found himself back in Garak’s shop, tidying up little things around the main room of the shop before again going into the back. He just couldn’t keep himself away, it seemed, for more than a day, until finally he’d basically moved into the back room, nightmares keeping him from his own quarters, the only restful sleep he could attain being in Garak’s back room.
From there, finding the door had been rather easy, if he only admitted it to himself. Perhaps too easy, in retrospect. Almost as if Garak had wanted someone, maybe him, to figure it out. He’d had the vague feeling that something was off about the room but he just couldn’t put his finger on what.
The room appeared to be as it had been each previous visit, each device had its precise location for maximum efficiency in use, the bolts of fabric along the walls were all aligned…except…for that one! A single bolt of fabric was upside down compared to the rest. Julian quickly righted it, thinking his friend must have been distracted when he’d put this one away, but as he turned his back on the case, the unmistakable whoosh of a door opening made him turn back, an empty corridor into darkness greeting him.
“And he calls me unnecessarily dramatic.” Julian rolled his eyes, stepping into the corridor.
The door had slid closed behind him, an almost unnoticed click relocking the door, but try as he might, Julian had not been able to reopen the door.
“Onwards then,” he muttered and followed the corridor along, hands outstretched to both walls.
Slowly, his eyes registered the barest minimum of light coming from strips laid at both the ceiling and floor, just barely enough for him to feel more confident in moving freely. For what seemed like an eternity, Julian walked through the corridor until finally he ended with another door whooshing open in front of him, to reveal a room that would have put the boudoirs in one of his Bond programs to shame. The walls were painted a soft, sandy red and lined with fabrics with geometric designs from ceiling to floor. A large bed lay in the corner, covered with blankets and pillows, as was the large plush couch on the other side of the room. A brazier stood in the center of the room, emitting flickering red light (most likely a holographic illusion) and delicious warmth.
“How long has this been set up, I wonder?”
Wandering around the room, Julian smiled as he saw the little things he’d given Garak through the years, displayed in places of honor on the shelves around the room. A case of data rods contained all the books they’d shared through the years, and suddenly Julian was hit with the enormity of the last few days. Sinking onto the couch, he hugged a pillow to his chest and screamed. How long he screamed, he didn’t know but eventually his breath came back to him and the tears dried on his face. His scalp stopped prickling and his face relaxed, the tears drying. One thought remained as the rest slowed to a stop: how could he have been so stupid as to give up his first friend on the station? Yes, they’d had their differences, and their secrets, but looking back, the fact that Garak had almost killed him seemed small in comparison to everything that had followed. Genocide wasn’t the answer, but damn, Julian could understand now, had in fact understood then, but had been terrified to admit it to himself, much less to the Cardassian. And then Ziyal had come along, and it seemed like Garak would actually be happy with her, and he’d never gotten the chance to just talk about it. The internment camp, his genetic status coming out…too much had happened, he’d let them drift so far apart, and everything reason he could think of now, that he’d given himself and to Garak, just felt like excuses. Excuses upon more excuses, for running away from how he’d felt, how scared he’d been in regards to his own feelings, mixed as they were towards the enigmatic tailor.
Leaning back on the couch, he flung the pillow to the side, knocking over an abstract statue. Replacing it, Julian resumed his tour of the quarters, for it was clear that these were Garak’s true quarters, locked and sealed for safety, and not the barren ones that he’d tracked the Cardassian to when he’d had to deal with that implant. Here, Julian could see the personality of the man he’d called friend, and so shamefully treated in more recent months, years if he was honest with himself.
“Oh Garak. I’m so sorry.” He said to the empty air.
“Greetings, my very dear Doctor.” Garak’s voice filled the room.
“Garak?” Julian looked around then cursing the hope that sprang into his chest. Garak would not, could not, have followed him back to the station, and he was a fool for thinking so.
However, the computer to his right had lit up at his words, and Garak’s serene face was on the screen. Julian fell heavily into the desk chair, his eyes never leaving the screen.
“My dear Doctor, I do commend you on finding my little sanctuary on the station. I apologize for not having shown you myself, but you are very clearly at the moment more enamoured with the lovely Lt. Dax, that I couldn’t possibly pull you away from the small happiness you’ve carved out for yourself during these uncertain times.”
“I’m so sorry Garak. I should never have…”
“I won’t hear any apologies from you, dear Doctor. Ah, you see, I know you better than you think, hmm? We must do what we can for ourselves in such times as these. I do not begrudge you the joy you’ve found. But that is not what I wished to impart to you just now.
Doctor, if you’ve found this, it is most likely in the event of my death. Since it is unlikely that I was able to follow the customs of my people prior to my death, I commend to you my Shri-tal…”
“Computer, pause playback.” Julian Bashir leaned back in his chair as Garak’s face froze on the screen, and wiped his hands across his face.
In his mind a battle raged. Part of him demanded to hear Garak’s Shri-tal, to learn more of the man. Another part insisted he had no right to hear the Shri-tal, in part because Garak was alive, but also in part because he’d been such a crummy friend. All the while, another, tiny voice, begged to just hear him speak, just one more time. Who knew if he would ever see Garak again, this may be the only time he would ever hear his voice again, let alone with that tone that he reserved only for his friend Julian.
That tiny voice won out in the end and Julian listened as Garak told him of his life. How much of it was lies for his benefit or Garak’s amusement, Julian didn’t care to think of, but he laughed in all the places he was supposed to, and cried in anger for the way Garak had been treated for his service to Cardassia.
“And finally, my dear Doctor, we come to you, my very dear friend. I treated you horribly to push you away when the implant failed, and I would have given you up for the certainty that the Founders would never harm Cardassia, but I was in error. Oh not that destroying the Founders would have been wrong, just look at what they’ve done since then? No, I was wrong to think that I could have lived with the sacrifice of you. That is one sacrifice that I am glad that Cardassia could not ask of me, and that Mr. Worf prevented me from having to make. I have dreamed of a different ending many times since that night, and each night I awaken in a cold sweat. No, my Doctor, I am glad that I did not have to sacrifice you.”
“Sisko to Garak?”
“Garak here.”
“We’ll be leaving for Cardassia in ten minutes, please be at the docking bay ready.”
“Understood, Captain.” Garak tapped his com badge and smiled ruefully out at him. “Well, my Doctor…my very dear Julian, it’s time for me to draw this to a close. I go to hopefully save Cardassia and if you are indeed listening to this, I hope that means that I have succeeded. Yes, Doctor, I said ‘hope.’ It seems some of your Federation optimism has rubbed off on me. I hope you will think back on our times together with fondness. Goodbye, my dear.”
The screen went black and Julian was left sitting in the flickering light of the brazier. A minute, perhaps more passed before Julian was on his feet, and rushing out the door. This time the lights were bright as he raced along the corridor, and the door at the other end opened without hesitation. The Promenade was a blur as was the turbolift and it seemed like barely a moment had passed before Julian was standing in Captain Sisko’s…now Colonel Kira’s office.
“Julian are you alright?” Kira asked.
“I need to go back.” was all Julian could force through his suddenly tight throat.
Kira’s eyes widened before giving a tight, sad smile. She nodded once in understanding and he was off again, flying through corridors, a storm in his quarters as he flung things into his bag, dictating to the computer the list of supplies he would need. But everything came crashing to a halt when Ezri strode through the door.
They stared at each other in silence for several long moments.
“I’m sorry, Ezri.”
“You need to go.”
They said at the same time, then laughed nervously.
Julian took Ezri’s hands in his and squeezed gently. “I am so sorry, Ezri. I’m such an idiot, but I never meant to hurt you.”
“I’m sorry too. I should have realized that this wouldn’t work. I think…I think I’m falling in love with Nerys.”
“Really? That’s wonderful. I’m happy for you both.”
“And Julian? You are an idiot. Now go to him and beg him to take you back.”
“Yes, Ezri.” Julian laughed, and then because it felt so good, laughed harder Ezri joining him until they were a heap on the floor.
“And don’t you let him push you away. But also don’t push too hard. He’s probably very vulnerable right now.”
“Yes Ezri.”
Ezri continued to offer advice as they walked together down through the station to the runabout Kira had requisitioned for him. He would be taking supplies to Cardassia for relief efforts was the official explanation, the runabout could be retrieved or returned at a later date. Kira stood in the docking bay, one last goodbye and Julian was off to Cardassia.
He didn’t know what reception he’d get, but by whatever gods humanity used to worship and may yet worship, he was going to try.
@tinsnip, finally your prompt is done! You asked for “Garak telling Bashir about his latest undercover mission. Bashir listening big-eyed.” and while it didn’t quite come out like that I think you’ll enjoy it.( This is set vaguely in the same verse as this fic, where Garak has a steady job that occasionally involves little undercover gigs so that he can keep an eye on things)
On the day before Garak is supposed to get back he gets a message.
“Forgive me, I’ve been delayed. Nothing serious but they have another sort of job for me to do here. It shouldn’t take more than a week.”
Less than an hour later a call comes through from one of Garak’s colleagues at the Reconstruction Ministry, confirming the delay and the details, which does a lot to settle his heart rate. It’s always good to have corroborating information with these things.
For the love of God, post this on A03 so I can leave a proper comment!
blkrose96 asked:
hkgkfkfkf answered:
AAGh. I am very much blanking on this, I’m sorry to say. There must be a few such fics, surely?? Uhhh… Help? Someone? @gplusbfics?
There’s some that involve shedding (The Bachelor’s wife on AO3) that I know of. But I’d love to have some more recs.
In a manner of speaking, Soothing the Stray does, but please read the tags.
Shameless self promotion.
This is not a new fic, but I just reread it for the first time in ages (trying to get some inspiration for something new) and I have to admit that I am pretty proud of it.
