The BLTS Archive - Chosen Path
Second in the Choices series
by Ainzfern (ainzfern@hotmail.com)

---

Disclaimer: Paramount owns STAR TREK ... etc and so on and
so forth!  My only pay here is personal joy

Archiving: Certainly- if you want to- please let me know.

Feedback: Yes please! All comments welcome

Author's Note: Blame my muse for this one! She's soft
hearted old ninny who pestered me endlessly until I agreed
to write a piece on what would have happened had First
Officer Garak chosen Julian instead. BIG FAT thanks to Cait
for the BETA - I grovel at your feet!  PLEASE BE ADVISED -
This has a happy ending.

---
Escape from Terok Nor
---

Julian woke to the feel of a warm hand slipping under the
back of his neck. Before he had time to react, he felt a
solid arm slide under his legs and lift him, bed covers and
all, into a strong embrace.

He was being carried, cradled against a solid chest. He
heard the soft swish of doors opening as they left the First
Officer's quarters. Instantly, Julian grew afraid. He was
not allowed out of his Master's rooms without an escort.
Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he began to struggle
weakly.

"Be still," a soft voice told him. It was a familiar voice.
A voice he was well conditioned to obeying without question.
Instantly, he froze, trying his best even to breathe
silently.

His Master was moving quickly through the darkened station.
Every now and then, he would duck into another hallway or
shadowy alcove, waiting for the regular security details to
go past, before moving on again.

In short order, they arrived at the docking ring. His Master
casually shifted the human in his arms so that he could key
in the access code to his private shuttle.

They entered the small but well-appointed ship and Julian
was laid down on a bunk to the rear of the craft. His Master
stopped to stare at him a moment.

Julian could see that Garak was extremely agitated. A light
sheen of sweat covered his silver-gray features. His
breathing was erratic and heavy, though Julian suspected,
NOT from carrying him through the station. His Master was
very strong. It took more than that to wind him.

Julian remained very still, projecting his compliance and
passivity with every fiber of his being - the survival
instinct of small prey. He had seldom seen his Master in
such a state and he knew from experience that the slightest
transgression on his part would send him into a rage. He was
still aching from tonight's earlier post coital attack. The
last thing he wanted now was yet another beating.

"Stay here," Garak told him shortly as he turned and moved
towards the pilot's station.

Julian watched silently as Garak took his seat and initiated
the pre-launch sequence. "Computer," he heard him say
softly, "access Intendant Kira's security files on the
dimensional rift and the universe beyond it, authorization,
Garak Two Beta."

"Access granted," the computer affirmed.

Garak inserted a Data Rod into the console in front of him.
"Download all information to this location."

"Working," the computer responded with a brief chirp,
indicating that the material was transferring.

After a moment, Julian saw his Master remove the Rod and lay
it carefully aside. Then he reached across to a small,
concealed panel in the wall by the pilot's chair, opened it
and removed another Rod. He inserted it into the console and
addressed the computer again.

"Computer," he said, his voice colored with a touch of
spite, "upload encrypted virus 'Garak One' to the
Intendant's security files."

"Working." The computer complied.

"Just a little payback, dear!" Garak murmured. "By the time
you manage to unravel this one, we'll be long gone."

Julian sat up suddenly. Gone? Where were they going? He
didn't understand, and he knew better than to ask. He heart,
however, began to thump painfully as he tried to imagine
just what his Master had planned for him.

Garak completed the launch sequence, overriding the system
warning concerning unauthorized departures with his own
security code. Julian continued to watch as he maneuvered
the shuttle away from the station.

"Computer," his Master barked, "initiate cloaking device."

Julian was not all that surprised that Garak's shuttle
contained cloaking capability. He knew his Master always
prided himself on being ready for any eventuality.

Garak reinserted the first Data Rod and spent some time
keying in instructions on the console. Then he turned the
ship and entered the wormhole at impulse speed.

The sight was astonishing to the young human. Julian stared
amazed at the streams of varicolored light and energy
visible on the view screen. His Master however, paid no
attention to it, engrossed as he was in entering further
information into his console. Finally, with a sudden
squaring of his broad shoulders, Garak punched one last key.

The shuttle lurched. There was a strange keening sound,
almost like tearing metal. Julian felt a momentary
dizziness. Then abruptly, they were exiting the wormhole
into calm space.

His Master immediately initiated the warp drive. "Let them
wonder," he muttered with a short laugh. He keyed in a few
more instructions, then set the autopilot and swiveled his
chair around to face the human.

As he approached, Julian felt himself shrink back slightly,
not sure what to expect. His Master sat down on the bunk
opposite and looked at him solemnly.

"I expect that you're wondering what is going on?" Garak
said.

Swallowing, Julian nodded mutely.

His Master's expression changed slightly, becoming guarded.
"I received advance warning of a... an assassination
attempt. I felt, considering everything, that it was time to
leave Terok Nor." His voice sounded different to Julian,
unsure somehow. There was an uncertain note there that the
human had never heard before.

Julian stared at him, not knowing what to say.

"You wish to ask a question? You may," Garak told him.

"Where... where are we going?"

His Master shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure yet," he said.
"I'll seek out a suitable space port and make some
enquiries."

Julian wasn't sure how to phrase his next question, or even
if he should voice it at all. "You brought me with you?
Why?"

His Master's face instantly grew cold and hard. Julian
quailed and sank back against the wall, knowing he had gone
too far. Trembling in every limb, he waited for the
inevitable blow.

It never came. Finally, looking up at his Master, Julian
could see that Garak's eyes were far away, gazing out the
view screen, watching the stars streak by. Eventually,
without looking at him, the Cardassian spoke. "Just go to
sleep, Julian." He stood then and walked back to the pilot's
seat.

Shaking, Julian lay down again, his mind racing. His Master
had used his name, rather than referring to him as "little
pet" or "human" or "slave". He had actually used his name!

His emotions in turmoil, Julian stared at the bulkhead above
him. It was a very long time before sleep came to claim him
again.

---
A New Place
(Six months later.)
---

Julian leaned against the window frame in their small
apartment and scanned the street below carefully, looking
for the familiar figure of his Master returning home from
his work.

Garak had easily gained employment shortly after they
arrived on this strange planet. He had explained to Julian
that he now worked as research assistant at the Risean
college of Further Education. Garak has told him that the
exam for the position had been laughably easy, but that the
job also appealed to his Cardassian affection for order.

They had acquired this small but comfortable apartment upon
arrival. Money had not been a problem. During their journey,
his Master had rather smugly shown him what else he had
hidden away behind that little panel in the shuttle's
cockpit. He had amassed quite a large selection of precious
gems and metals. Items that could easily be converted into
Latinum, the currency that seemed most accepted on this
world.

This world, this new place. It overwhelmed him. Risa... that
was its name. A place where many races, including humans,
moved and mixed freely together as equals. There was no
Alliance here, no slaves. There were even a few Cardassians,
so Garak's presence attracted no real attention.

Julian was totally adrift.

He no longer knew what was expected of him. His Master
steadfastly refused to refer to him as a slave anymore. He
had insisted that Julian sleep in the second bedroom. He
spoke to him gently, if somewhat rarely. He did not press
his attentions on him; in fact, he avoided touching him
altogether.

For Julian, this was a strange and upsetting state of
affairs. He had been trained to serve. On Terok Nor, he knew
his place. He knew what was expected of him.

Now everything was different. Despite his lack of formal
education, Julian was not stupid. He could see that his
Master had changed in some fundamental way, but he could not
for the life of him figure out why.

He could not figure out how he fitted into this new order.
On Terok Nor the answer would have been simple. If a Master
tired of his slave, then the slave was simply removed. They
were either sent to the processing plants or they were
killed. Most of course, hoped for death.

Julian straightened slightly as he recognized the familiar
figure walking along the street towards the apartment
complex. He took a moment to ensure that the apartment was
tidy, and then he set his Master's meal out on the small
dining table. He returned to his window and waited.

Julian's days were quite empty. He cleaned the apartment
over and over, more for something to do than from any real
need. He prepared his Master's meals and ensured that clean
clothes were laid out for him. But most of his day was spent
at the window, looking out at the street and waiting
patiently.

His Master had told him he could go outside if he wished. He
didn't. The lessons of Terok Nor were too deeply ingrained.
If he even THOUGHT about going through the front door he
grew frightened and unsure. Leaving quarters had always been
a major transgression. Julian could remember being punished
on several occasions because Garak had simply suspected he
had done so.

He heard the door open, and he turned around to face it.
Eyes averted, he waited to do his Master's bidding.

"Good evening, Julian," Garak said as he entered the dining
area and seated himself. His voice, as always now, was low
and strangely flat.

Julian still felt strange hearing his name in that voice. It
just didn't seem appropriate somehow.

As he hovered nearby, waiting as Garak ate in silence,
Julian allowed his mind to wander again.

Things weren't any easier for Julian when his Master was
home. To all intents and purposes, Garak ignored him. The
gulf between them seemed wider than it had ever been before.
On Terok Nor, Julian had known who his Master was. He had
known his preferences, his habits, his rages and his rare
flashes of token affection. He did not know this Cardassian
at the table. This distant, abstracted, slightly puzzled
individual who had somehow taken the First Officer's place.

Sometimes, as he stood by his window, Julian would sense
Garak's eyes on him. When he looked up, he would see a
strange expression on his Master's face. A kind of
anticipation, coupled with a vague look of frustration.
Garak would stare at him for a moment, his eyes questioning,
as if he was waiting for Julian to do something, say
something.

When it became apparent that Julian was not going to
respond, Garak would sigh, shake his head slightly and turn
his attention elsewhere.

Julian knew in these moments, that he'd disappointed his
Master somehow. In what way, he could not tell. He knew
Garak expected something from him, but he didn't know what.
He had no point of reference to work from. His Master was
just too different now. The knowledge that he no longer knew
how to please him, lay heavily on his mind.

Now, more than ever before, Julian wondered just what was to
become of him.

--
Time To Go
---

As soon as Garak walked in the front door, he knew he could
no longer put off the inevitable. He had made several
discreet enquiries and contacted a few local business
people. He had found a suitable candidate in a surprisingly
short time.

He had hoped that it wouldn't come to this. But after six
months on Risa, it was very clear that this arrangement was
not having the desired effect on Julian. If anything, the
human was becoming more timid and withdrawn. He seemed more
like a prisoner now than he ever had on Terok Nor.

Garak continued to think on this as he sat down to his meal.
As usual, he looked at the human for a while, searching for
any indications of change in him. As usual, there was
nothing.

Sighing, he pushed away his plate and stood up. Instantly,
Julian moved to clear the table.

"Leave it," Garak said softly.

Julian froze. Then he put the plate back down and stepped
away... waiting.

"Stay here," Garak told him.

The Cardassian turned and went into Julian's small bedroom.
He quickly packed up the human's meager collection of
clothing into a shoulder satchel. Returning to the main
room, he placed the bag on the table in front of Julian.
Then he reached into the pocket of his tunic and produced a
handful of Latinum and a neatly folded sheet of paper.

"You have to leave," he told the human in a flat tone. "I've
made some arrangements for you. There's a letter of
introduction here for a woman who owns a restaurant not far
from the college. She always needs staff, so she's agreed to
place you on trial. She's a good woman... a human. She will
be kind to you."

Julian's face had grown pale, his huge eyes alarmed. Garak
deliberately kept his face expressionless and his voice
cold. It was painful to do this. Painful in a way that he
had not anticipated. But like most unpleasant tasks, it was
best done swiftly and without hesitation.

Having the human here constantly, continuing to behave in
such a submissive manner, was just too much temptation for
the Cardassian. He knew his own weaknesses. The Q entity had
seen to that. He knew his resolve concerning Julian was
beginning to crumble. He had made his choice - and by the
Guls, he was going to see it through. It was all he had left
now. If he were to succeed at this, then the human had to be
sent away.

"There are directions on the back of the letter," Garak
continued tonelessly. "I was quite specific. You should have
no trouble finding it."

Julian was shaking his head, his eyes pleading. "Please...
no," he whispered.

Garak covered his own reaction well. He turned to the
satchel on the table, opening it and stashing the Latinum
and the folder letter inside. As he refastened the bag, he
went on, "I simply do not require the services of a body
slave any more, Julian. It's not appropriate here, and quite
frankly, I can no longer afford to support you." That was a
lie. Garak's salary was more that enough for the both of
them.

Almost unconsciously, Julian moved closer, his desperation
clearly visible. "Please... please don't send me away!" he
whispered again.

With great effort, Garak kept his face aloof and
unconcerned. He hated the plaintive note in the human's
voice. He hated the pain there. He was shocked to realize
that he hated himself for causing it.

//Q...what in Gul's name did you do to me?//

Garak turned away to grab Julian's coat off the hook by the
kitchenette door. As he did so, he felt a tentative touch on
the small of his back. He almost gave the whole thing away
at that point.

"Please, Master!" Julian cried softly.

Master... Garak growled, his frustration rising, his temper
fraying. A surge of anger shot through him.

With a hiss, Garak shook off Julian's touch and spun around,
eyes blazing. "I've told you not to CALL me that!" he
snarled into the human's pale face.

Instantly, Julian flinched. Garak's heart sank as he watched
the human shrink in on himself, ducking his head down to his
chest and hunching his shoulders forward. Waiting... making
no move to protect himself or flee, just waiting for the
first blow to land.

//Oh Guls! I MADE him like this.// Garak shook his head. He
held the satchel out to Julian and waited patiently until
the human finally took it from him.

"Can you understand now, why I want you to go, Julian?" he
asked sadly, his voice no longer dispassionate. "You can't
keep living like this. _I_ can't keep living like this! You
have choices to make now, and you can't make them here."

Julian stared at him.

Sighing, Garak continued. "Perhaps you will choose to come
back. Perhaps you won't. All I know is, you can't... you
can't stay now."

With that, he led the human to the front door and opened it.
Gently, he pushed him through into the hallway.

"Goodbye, Julian," he said softly.

With one final, lingering look at the human's perfect,
pleading face, Garak firmly shut the door.

---
On Two Feet
(12 months later.)
---

Julian sighed and flopped onto the bed in the corner of his
small room, one hand behind his head, the other curled
loosely on his stomach. He still had his uniform from the
New Day's kitchen on, but his feet were bare.

He was tired, but it was a good tired. Weariness born of
hard work. Work he was actually being paid for. It wasn't
glamorous work, but Julian didn't mind. He knew he didn't
have the skills for anything better than this anyway. He
cleared tables and he washed dishes and he did it with a
sense of quiet satisfaction. The novelty of earning his own
way still hadn't worn off.

He seriously doubted that it ever would.

Smiling ruefully, he recalled that first dreadful day nearly
a year ago with a kind of sad amusement. He'd been so
pitiful then, so lost.

He had simply followed Garak's instructions because he
hadn't known what else to do. His former Master had told the
truth when he had said that the note was detailed. Julian
had no trouble finding the restaurant.

Standing in the street, he had read the name on the awning.
"New Days Bistro."

How apt.

Entering the establishment hesitantly, Julian had looked
around for a while. There hadn't seemed to be anyone about.

"We're closed this evening, honey," a bright female voice
had told him. "Didn't you see the sign by the door?"

Julian had jumped and spun around. The voice had come from a
middle aged human. She'd had a kind face and bright black
eyes. She was nearly as tall as he was and she had a massive
bosom. Her abundant hair was glossy brown and piled up on
her head in large wispy knot.

Glancing at the letter in his hand, Julian had told her,
"I'm supposed to ask for someone called Maggie."

She had smiled broadly. "Well, you found her, honey! What
can I do for you?"

Trembling slightly, still not sure what he should be doing,
he handed the letter to her. He stood by, chewing his full
lower lip as she read through it.

"Ah," she said finally, "so you're the one Mr. Garak was
talking about."

Julian's breath had drawn in sharply. "You know my... Mr.
Garak?"

Maggie had nodded. "Oh sure. I'm doing a course up at the
College a couple of days a week. I'm always pestering him
for resource material. He mentioned that he knew someone who
needed a job, and honey, jobs I got!"

Not understanding, Julian had stared at her.

Seeing the look, Maggie's face had softened. "Come on over
here, honey," she'd said, taking his hand and guiding him to
a table. "Now, this letter here says you don't have any
formal qualifications, but that's no problem. You don't need
much education to be a bus boy."

Julian's face had grown even more perplexed.

"Oh Boy... you HAVEN'T been out and about much, have you"?
Maggie had murmured. "Tell me, honey... can you wash a
plate?"

Julian had nodded, suddenly feeling very raw inside. He'd
felt out of his depth, out of his place. The enormous strain
of the evening had been making itself felt.

"A bus boy," Maggie had explained, "clears the tables and
scrubs the dishes. Now, it's hard work, but I pay fair. Oh,
I know I should get a recycler, and who knows, maybe one day
I will, but the darn things are so expensive here!"

Julian had hardly heard the words. Overwhelmed all of a
sudden, he had started to shake in earnest. He had not cried
for a long time, but...

"Oh, honey!" Maggie had exclaimed, alarmed. "What the? Oh
sweetie, don't cry on me. You've got the job, didn't you
hear me?"

Struggling to reply, Julian had nodded.

Maggie had reached out then and patted his hand. "What's
your name, honey?"

"J... Julian."

"All right, Julian," she'd said softly, "now I don't know
your story and I'm not going to ask. It's none of my
business anyway. I've got a good feeling about you. I think
you're going to be a stayer."

She had reached into her copious cleavage and produced a
very warm handkerchief. "Here, wipe your face and blow your
nose. I can't stand the sound of sniffling!"

Obediently, Julian had done so.

"Now," Maggie had stood and reached down to take his hand
again, "you come along out the back with me, and we'll find
you a uniform to fit. This note of yours says you need a
place to stay?"

"Yes," Julian had whispered, eyes downcast.

Maggie had patted him on the back gently. "Lord knows, but
you're bringing out the mother in me, Julian." She mused, "I
know a lady who runs a boarding house not far from here.
It's not fancy, but it's clean and the rates are reasonable.
She won't tolerate any nonsense under her roof, mind you,
but I can't see you causing much trouble. Do you have money
for rent?"

Julian had shown her.

Maggie's eyes had widened slightly. "I say that's a yes!"

She had stepped back from him then and grinned broadly.
"Welcome to New Days, Julian!"

For the first time in what seemed like years, Julian had
smiled.

---

So now, as Julian lay on his bed while the shadows in his
room darkened and the silver moonlight came through his
windows, he mused upon this new life.

He had changed in many ways over this past year. He was
still quiet, not given much to idle chatter or jokes. For
all of that however, his colleagues liked him well enough.
He always did his share. He never shirked a duty, and if he
didn't socialize with them, then they accepted it. They
could tell a loner when they saw one.

Not that Julian hadn't been given offers. Quite a few
suggestions had been made to him by workmates and patrons
alike, especially in the beginning. They saw his beautiful
face, his flawless golden skin and his unconscious grace.
They saw the latent sensuality in his every movement and
assumed that he would be approachable.

But whenever anyone broached the subject, a change would
come over him. A little of the light would fade from his
eyes. His face would close off. He would move away and
mutter a strained negation. Anybody with half an ounce of
sense instantly recognized that Julian simply wasn't
interested.

That wasn't precisely true. He did want companionship. He
did want intimacy. But there was only one person whom he
knew that could possibly provide it. Only one person who
knew where he had come from, what he had been. He found it
too difficult to relate to his new acquaintances on that
kind of level. He was still too attuned to Garak.

He could appreciate now, what his former Master had been
trying to tell him. Now that he was standing by himself. Now
that he had the freedom to decide such things, he began to
understand just how significant any decision he might make
would be.

He wanted to go back.

He wanted to go back to Garak. Not to the First Officer. To
the Garak that he'd begun to see emerging in their little
apartment. The one he hadn't known how to deal with, how to
respond to. He knew he could deal with him now, though. Just
as Garak must have known he would.

Rising from his bed, Julian changed into more comfortable
clothes and left the boarding house. He headed along the
darkened streets towards their old apartment building. It
was a long walk and Julian toyed with the idea of using a
public transporter, but he dismissed it. He still had much
to think about, and walking would give him the chance to do
so.

---

Standing outside the door in the dim hallway, Julian began
to have serious doubts.

Would Garak be happy to see him? Would he even want to see
him? Would he be angry that Julian had stayed away so long?

Swallowing loudly, he raised his hand and pressed the door
chime.

No one answered.

He pressed it again.

"If you're looking for Mr. Garak, you won't find him here,"
a querulous old voice came from behind him.

Julian spun around. He instantly recognized his old
landlord.

"Oh, it's you," the old man said. "Your friend moved on
about five months ago. Got a promotion see... said he was
moving up in the world, wanted his own place."

Julian's heart sank. "Did he say where he was going?"

The old man peered closely at him, his lined face shrewd. "I
don't normally give out forwarding addresses, young fella.
How do I know he'd want you to find him?"

Julian sighed. "Well, that's the question, isn't it? You
don't know." He moved past the old man. "And neither do I,"
he added sadly.

The old man reached out and touched his arm. "Wait a minute
there," he said. "I forgot! Your friend did leave something
for you. I've got a card down in my office for you."

The old man led him down to the tiny office at the front of
the building where he handed the young man a little white
card.

Julian took it from him, looking at it curiously. There was
no greeting. No personal message. Just a few neat lines
detailing an address. "Thank you," Julian said as he
pocketed it. "Can you point me in the right direction,
please?"

"Sure." The old man led him to the entrance. "You head
towards the big resort by the lake... you know where that
is?"

Julian nodded.

"Once you get there, skirt the parklands around the resort
and you'll come to a little hamlet of cottages. Your friend
lives there."

Julian smiled at him. "Thank you again. You've been very
kind."

"Pah!" The old man waved a hand at him. Then his expression
turned slightly concerned as he watched Julian heading down
the street.  "Hey!" he called out.

Julian turned.

"You're not going to WALK all that way, are you?"

Julian nodded. "I like to walk," he explained.

"Yeah... well. I guess you forgot, the weather arrays are
due to give us rain tonight. You'll be in for a soaking."

Julian had forgotten, in fact. But the old man's warning
didn't really worry him too much. He looked upon the trek to
Garak's home as a kind of preparation, almost a cleansing.
He knew what his choice was now. He wanted to make this
journey, but there was an awful lot of baggage that he
needed to drop by the roadside on the way.

There was a touch of fear in him at the thought of seeing
the Cardassian again. He was honest enough with himself to
admit that. But there was a feeling of anticipation too, of
longing and loneliness too long endured.

Leaving the elderly landlord shaking his head in confusion,
Julian turned and headed along the near deserted streets.
Off in the distance, as if heeding the old man's promise,
the sound of thunder rolled softly.

---
Choice Accepted
---

Garak relaxed on his sofa and gazed out the small window in
his living room at the rear courtyard. He found watching the
rain torrent down into his leafy garden strangely
comforting.

The Risean weather arrays were giving the planet a solid
drenching tonight. It had even started to get cold outside.
Garak, however, was pleasantly warm. A soft, thick blanket
over his knees, glass of Kanar in hand. He enjoyed the
simple pleasure of being warm and dry while the storm
continued unabated on the other side of his window.

He knew his sense of contentment would not be subject to
stay for long, so he enjoyed it while it lasted. Garak was
not given to much introspection since the day he sent Julian
away. He found that thoughts of the human invariably led to
darker, more painful memories. A time that seemed so very
long ago, and yet remained so clear to him, so vivid. He saw
his past life every time his closed his eyes, and he
despised it.

Things had changed for the former First Officer. His brief
odyssey with the Q entity had left an indelible mark on him.
The creature had... done something to him. Made him
different somehow. At the moment of his choice, the doors in
his mind and heart that had always been so tightly locked,
had all opened. Try as he might, Garak could not close them
again.

His memories of Terok Nor contained no pride, no sense of
achievement. He saw it all as a wasted life. One that filled
him with deep regret. Agitation, that in the past would have
sent him into a black rage, now merely left him feeling
profoundly remorseful.

And there was no one he could tell. The only person who
could possibly understand the change in him was gone. Garak
had sent him away.

Garak realized now, that Q's glimpse of his possible future
would not become a reality. After all this time, he held no
illusions that Julian would want to return to him.

He felt no anger at this. No jealousy. No insane desire to
smash and destroy his surroundings gripped him. He was
simply saddened by it.

He understood. He would spend the rest of his life alone,
and it was right that this should be so. He accepted it a
part of his penance.

It wasn't such a bad life, after all. He was
self-supporting, busy in his work and respected for his
skills. There was no continual threat of assassination here.
No constant literal backstabbing or deadly political
maneuvering. All in all, existence here was quite tolerable.

But it was awfully lonely. He hadn't quite gotten used to
that yet.

A soft knock at his door roused him from his reverie.
Puzzled, he pushed aside the blanket and made his way down
the hallway.

He opened the door. For several moments, he simply stared,
not quite able to accept what he was seeing. His heart
shuddered in his chest and he gripped the door jam,
supporting himself against the sudden wave of
light-headedness that hit him. He heard himself sucking in
great whooping breaths, as if all the oxygen in the
atmosphere had suddenly disappeared.

It was Julian. Standing in the rain on his front path, arms
wrapped tightly around his body against the chill. He was
drenched to the skin, his wet hair plastered against his
face and neck. He was trembling and pale, his eyes huge and
uncertain.

He was simply the most welcome sight Garak had ever seen.

Garak did not speak. He couldn't have delivered a coherent
sentence at that moment if his life had depended on it.
Instead, he stepped back from the door and motioned the
human inside.

He directed Julian to the sofa and, as the young man sat,
Garak draped the blanket over his wet shoulders. Then, he
left his guest for a moment to grab a towel from his small
bathroom.

He did not question the oddness of the situation. No sudden
stab to his ego reminded him that the First Officer did NOT
fuss over a human slave like this. His actions were
unconscious and without hesitation. The First Officer's
voice was simply too weak to be heard.

Returning to Julian, Garak handed the towel to him. "Please
dry your hair, Julian," he said softly, "it's dripping all
over the place.

Julian took the towel and rubbed vigorously at his long
locks. "Thank you," he said as he handed it back to Garak.

It was as Garak reached out to take it that he noticed
Julian's hands. They were shaking, the slender fingers
turning blue.

"Guls, Julian! Your hands are half frozen." Garak dropped to
his knees in front of the human and reached out to take
them.

After the briefest hesitation, Julian let the Cardassian
take hold of them, one after the other, rubbing the icy
fingers between his warm palms. Slowly, the color returned
to them as Garak's massaging restored the circulation.

Just the feeling of touching him again was remarkable, Garak
decided. He was amazed to discover just how much he had been
craving physical interaction - of any kind. He lingered with
Julian's hands much longer than he needed to, taking full
advantage of this reasonable excuse to feel that smooth
human skin again.

A soft noise of distress caused Garak to look up at Julian
sharply. The human's eyes were luminous with unshed tears.
As Garak watched, they began to spill down his perfect face.
In all the years that Garak had known him, all the cruelty
he had meted out to him, he had never actually seen the
human cry. How ironic it was that a gentle touch should be
the one to change that. He found he was shocked at how
deeply the sight of it cut him.

"What is it?" he asked, alarmed, concerned that he had
somehow managed to frighten or hurt the young man.

Julian tried, but he seemed unable to reply. Instead,
shaking his head helplessly, he slipped off the sofa and
onto Garak's lap. His legs straddled the Cardassian's hard
thighs and those long arms wrapped tightly around his broad
shoulders. Without a word, he clung to the older man almost
desperately. As Garak folded his own arms around him, he
could feel the slender body shaking uncontrollably.

Unconsciously, hardly even aware that he was doing it, Garak
began to rock him gently, stroking the wet hair and rubbing
his hand over the sodden back. He could feel the dampness
soaking through his own clothes where Julian was pressed
against him. He didn't care. All that filled his mind was
the fact that he had come back.

Slowly, Julian pulled away, leaning back so that he could
look into Garak's face. For a long moment, Julian regarded
him solemnly, looking deeply into his eyes as if searching
for something there.

Then, with the faintest expression of relief, he lifted his
hands to Garak's face, leaned forward and gently covered the
Cardassian's mouth with his own.

Despite the coolness of his damp skin, the human's mouth was
very warm, his lips incredibly soft. Garak suddenly found
breathing rather difficult as he surrendered to the
exquisite feeling of Julian's lips moving gently over his
own. His mouth was sweet. Great Guls! Why had he never
noticed how sweet he was? Had he ever kissed him before? He
couldn't remember. He didn't care.

Even in the midst of his rising desire, Garak's inner voice
was warning him to be careful, to be gentle, to keep his
control. He knew without a doubt, if he gave the human cause
to leave again then this time it would be forever.

He honestly didn't think he could bear that. He was tired of
being alone.

Gently, his hands closed over Julian's shoulders, pushing
him away.

"You need to dry off," he told him. "You can use the ensuite
in my bedroom. I'll bring you something to wear."

Nodding, Julian stood and stepped back so that Garak could
rise and lead him down the short hallway. He paused a moment
to grab a warm, soft robe from his closet, before handing it
to the human and directing him through to the small
bathroom.

As Julian reached the doorway, he turned back to Garak. Once
again, those large dark eyes searched his face.

Garak swallowed audibly. "Are you going to stay?"

Slowly, Julian nodded. "Yes. But..."

"I know," Garak said softly. "There will be... conditions."

Again, Julian nodded.

"I understand." Garak told him. "We can talk about it
later."

Apparently satisfied, Julian turned and walked into the
bathroom, closing the door behind him. After a moment, Garak
heard the shower running.

He took the opportunity to change his own damp clothes and
then he returned to his living room. He picked up the
blanket and absently folded it, laying it across the back of
the sofa. Then he sat, picked up his glass of Kanar, and
waited.

Presently, he heard soft footsteps behind him as Julian
padded into the room. There was a pause, the heavy silence
only broken by the sound of the deluge outside.

Garak's eyes closed. Tension seeped into every part of his
body, yet he remained seated, forcing himself to be patient.

When he finally felt the sofa cushions shift slightly with
Julian's weight, felt the warm, slender body nestle up
against his side, Garak released a long, shuddering breath.
With a profound feeling of relief, he wrapped his arms
around the human and held him close. Briefly, he smiled as
he sent out a silent thank you to the strange Q entity who
had ultimately brought him to this moment.

Later, he and the human would talk. The conditions of
Julian's return would be addressed. Perhaps afterwards,
Julian might allow Garak to take him to his bed. To
reacquaint himself with that warm, soft body from the
perspective of a new beginning. The again, perhaps not. It
would be Julian's choice now. It would always be Julian's
choice.

He was back, that was what mattered. They knew each other's
pasts. Now it was time to discover if they had a future.

"Julian?" Garak murmured against Julian's soft, sweet
smelling hair.

"Hmmm?"

"Please call me Elim."

Julian laughed softly and nestled a little closer into
Garak's arms. The Cardassian's battered heart sang so loudly
that he barely heard the death cries of the First Officer of
Terok Nor, as that dark spirit fled away from them into the
rainy night.

---

The End