The BLTS Archive - Identity Crisis First in the Crisis Team series by Blue Champagne (rowan-shults@sbcglobal.net) --- Blue Champagne here. I do not own these characters. I do not own these story settings. I do own the actions taken and the dialog spoken by these Paramount-owned characters in these Paramount-owned settings. This is set during the time, on DS9, that Keiko and Molly are living on Bajor and Miles and Keiko are having some fairly serious marital problems—references are made to a few times Miles, in episodes, popped off jealous to Keiko, and other such. (Paramount owns these occurrences, I suppose.) Specifically, this introduction to my lengthier Miles/Julian series is, like the rest of the series, set between the third-season episodes "Explorers" and "Facets". Please do not print or post this story anywhere without this header. --- Julian entered his ID on the holosuite computer pad and stepped through the opening door. He stopped still in the act of pulling his second glove on and stared around him. For ten feet in every direction, an emerald sward covered the ground, growing up over small hillocks and protrusions of white granite. Any farther away the thick, twisting fog obscured all but the largest land features, rendering them shadowy blobs with fuzzy protrusions. "This is very nice, chief," he called out to the fog, "but the airfield isn't in Ireland." There was no reply. "If you were this homesick," he continued, "you only had to say so. The squadron can get by without us for one day. Cyril's been showing real improvement." Still nothing. "Miles?" He paused, puzzled. Had he got the time wrong? His identity had admitted him, though... "I'm over here, Julian." The chief's voice sounded even rougher than usual. The doctor looked around the area, but he couldn't see a thing; he set out over the gentle swells of ground in what sounded like the proper direction. Rounding the side of a grey boulder, he almost tripped over Miles. "Sorry." He caught himself on Miles's shoulder and sank to a squat. The chief was staring glumly into the mist, his back against the boulder. Julian blinked. "God, you look terrible. What is it?" Miles didn't even look at him. Julian waited a moment, then said "I should go, then." "No," Miles said at once, flicking a glance at him, then looking away again. The doctor nodded and sat down on what proved to be a patch of heather prickly enough to penetrate his canvas flying trousers. He ignored it and waited, watching the mist swirl around, slow and silent. "She's thinking about a divorce," Miles said abruptly. "She...oh, my God. Miles, I'm sorry. What's...did she say why?" "She hates you, for one thing." Julian's eyes widened, both at the apparent non sequitur and its content. "What?" Miles got up and paced away a few steps, hunched over, arms folded. Julian stared up at his back. "Keiko says she's going to divorce you...because she hates ME?" "She didn't exactly say that. She SAYS she likes you, or she did, before I..." Julian closed his eyes. "Miles. If it's not prying too much, would you please clarify all this a little? Such as the question of what on earth I have to do with your marriage?" "You don't! At least, *I* told her you don't. She was just...raving, Julian, I hardly know what to think." I'm starting to see why she might rave, Julian thought, and tried again. "You talked with Keiko earlier today. Am I right?" "Yes. She called a little after eleven hundred." "And she said she wanted a divorce." Miles sighed. "No. She wanted to postpone her next visit two weeks--she's already postponed it once--and she wouldn't explain why. When I asked, she said she needed time to think. About what, I said. About us, she said. What about us, I said. I don't KNOW, she said." Miles smacked his forehead in frustration and began pacing about, gesturing angrily as he talked. "She doesn't KNOW? I said, 'Keiko, this isn't fair, you've got to tell me what's wrong,' and...to make a long story short, I...she...well, she thinks--hell." He made an inarticulate sound, picked up a rock and threw it down so hard it bounced in the heavy grass. "All right," Julian sighed, standing up. "Just tell me why she hates me. If she said." "All I said was your name--I got no farther than that--and she blew up! 'Julian, Julian, always and only Julian, every other word out of your mouth is Julian!' She was *very* dramatic about it." "Miles, she's probably just envious about the time you and I can spend together, when she barely has a chance to see you. That's not at all uncommon." "It isn't *my* fault we barely see each other. I even offered to move to the planet with her, you'll remember." "Yes," Julian agreed hastily, aware he'd interrupted a flow of information it might be hard to restart. "And then what happened?" "I said 'What's wrong with Julian, then? It's all right for you to have your botanist friends, and talk all day about them and about all the fun you have with them--that you and I never seem to have any more,' and she said that she didn't spend every spare minute of every day with any one of them, as though that makes a bit of difference--" he stopped and turned to face Julian. "I ask you. She's down there on a green planet surface, with Molly every day, doing her own work, seeing anyone she wants any time she wants, and I'm up here in this broken-down Cardie tin can trying to keep the air circulating and the gravity on. I find myself a pacifier--" Julian smiled wryly. "--and suddenly I'm...she as much as accused me of--" he was too congested to continue. Obviously I'm going to have to help him, Julian thought, but judging by the outraged look on Miles's face, the accusation wasn't far to seek. "She thinks you're having an affair?" Miles growled and looked away. Julian let his breath out in a whoosh. "I see. But where do I...oh, good Lord. ME?" "If I was cheating with anyone, it certainly wouldn't be--well it's ridiculous, the whole idea! You, of all people." Miles made an elaborate gesture of disdain and turned abruptly away from Julian. "Good heavens. If she really thought you were having an affair with me, it'd be no wonder if she didn't like the sound of my name, but..." Julian took a step or two toward Miles and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I think that when she's calmer, she'll realize how silly the idea is. She may not know me well enough to know, but she does know you. I really think she's having normal stress about your constant separation." "It's not that simple," Miles growled, gaze fixed on a grey lump in the distance. "What she said was, 'If Julian makes you so happy, perhaps you should be married to *him* then.' "What then?" "She broke the connection. I would never cut her off like that. But she's always running out of the room, pushing me away. Time to think, she said. She's always saying that. I thought we got married to do that kind of thinking together. Isn't that what marriage is about?" "Keiko is from a much more...reserved culture than yours, Miles. She's used to handling her feelings and problems on her own, it's the way her people--" "I know that! I've been married to her for years! I don't need to hear YOU call me a bloody hot-tempered uncultured barbarian as well!" He stomped out from under Julian's hand and toward the grey lump he'd been staring at, which, unremarkably, turned out to be another granite outcropping. Julian was quiet a moment, then said very softly, "Has she ever called you that?" The chief stood there a minute, then slumped. "No. But she doesn't need to! It's obvious when she's thinking it!" "Well," Julian said gently, "I wasn't thinking it." "I know. Sorry. You Angles bring out the worst in me." "You'd be lost without me, you painted Celt." "I know that, too." Miles's voice was suddenly mild. He paused, then continued "There's a project on Bajor." Ah, Julian thought, now we get to it. "An agricultural project?" "Mm. She says she wants to be involved, but she doesn't know if it would be fair to me. Fair to *me*. Always before, it's been what a selfish possessive bastard *I'm* being, and now she's thinking divorce because--after all this time--she's suddenly decided that her always being away isn't fair to *me*. She said she's not sure if she can ever make ME happy!" "That's where I came in, I suppose," Julian nodded. "Miles, did she ever say the word 'divorce', or is it only the comment she made about being married to me?" "Just the comment. But she seemed pretty serious about it." "She was upset." The chief didn't reply, and Julian continued "Perhaps if you told her you wouldn't see much of me any more--" "Are you bloody crazy! With her and Molly gone you're all I--" he stopped and looked away. Julian wished he dared thank Miles for the sentiment, but he knew his friend was enormously uncomfortable and only said "I just meant that if you offered not to see me, she'd see that she was being unreasonable. That happened when you offered to quit your job and move to Bajor with her. She may just need to see that...you're still willing to sacrifice for her. She may feel you have good reasons not to be as in love with her any more, and the guilt may be making her accuse you. Perhaps she thinks it makes perfect sense for you to be...seeing me, and she needs to know for certain that...I'm sure she wouldn't really insist you stop seeing me, if you only *offered* to stop." "Hnh." Julian approached Miles again, but didn't touch him. "Come on. Let's go have a pint of ale and try to get your mind off this for a while. As I said, the squadron can do without us one day." --- Julian set his PADD down on the desk and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. He would never be such a masochist as to deny himself a hangover remedy, but the standard dosage had merely made life possible, not enjoyable. Praise all gods he hadn't had any patients he couldn't refer to one of the other doctors; he wouldn't feel right about treating anyone when he was in this condition. He had buried himself in reports and records and answered the concern of his staff with the words "Never mind. I deserve it." It was nearly the end of his shift. He wondered how Miles was doing--he'd left the hangover remedy out on the living room table, he remembered that much, but very little else except the disarray of his quarters and the sight of Miles sleeping like a rock on his couch. Once he'd determined that the chief was in no danger more immediate than a vicious case of the morning after the night before, he'd showered and trudged off to the infirmary. Miles, fortunately, had the day off. "Doctor?" He opened his eyes and looked up. "Yes? Nurse Akula." "I really think you should go back to your quarters now," the Andorian man said, inclining his right antenna toward Julian to indicate an injunction. "Doctor Sakerek has come on duty, and you--" "--look like hell, yes, I know," Julian sighed with a sardonic half-smile. "Thank you, I think I will be going. There's no more desk work that isn't routine. And thank everyone for their tolerance, would you?" "We all consider ourselves thanked, Doctor." Akula smiled a thin smile that Julian knew was no less sincere than a human's. His quarter's door opened to reveal the place still a mess and Miles still asleep, but on the floor. The hangover remedy in the glass on the table had been consumed, apparently. Julian wobbled in and sank carefully down on the couch, a hand to his forehead, and leaned over to check the chief's pulse and breathing. Miles snorted and twitched violently, and Julian grabbed his shoulder. "It's me." Miles relaxed with a groan. "How are you feeling?" he continued, finishing his brief vital-sign check. "Like all bloody hell." "Me too. At least you got to sleep all day. When did you take the Selashol?" "The what?" "The hangover medicine. I left it in the glass on the table." "Oh. I don't know." Miles got up on his elbows, blinking. Julian let himself collapse backward on the couch. Miles continued "I don't know that I ever...oh. Yes, I did. I did take it." He sighed and sat up slowly. "I suppose it's not that bad. I have felt worse." "Worse hangovers, or just worse?" "Worse hangovers." He breathed a couple of breaths and said "So you...remember?" Julian's brow creased. Remember what? "Remember what?" "Don't you remember?" Julian considered, then said "A lot of drinking and singing, and you falling over the dining table." He chuckled. "Nothing past that?" God. "Um...I was sitting across the table here from you, and we were pounding each other on the shoulder...drunken camaraderie of some sort. Friends forever, or something like that." He smiled. "Of course. What else, under the circumstances..." "Circumstances?" "You and Keiko. Your worries. Miles, why is this kind of detail so important?" "I just need--" Miles inhaled and calmed himself. "I just wanted to know." "Oh, no. I didn't demand we go back to Quark's again, did I? We didn't. Surely. No, my staff would have been smirking even more than they were." "No. We didn't." Miles staggered up, hanging on to the arm of the couch. "I'd better get home." "Um..." Julian levered himself up carefully and took the chief's arm as the latter wobbled for the door. "You'd better at least shower first. It isn't going to look good to your staff--or the Ops officers--if you go staggering through the habitat ring like that." Miles froze a second, then said "You're right." He trudged toward the bathroom; Julian returned to the sofa, and fell asleep in seconds. When he woke, it was because Miles was sitting down on the other end of the couch, wearing a bathrobe and toweling the waterlogged curls of his sandy hair. "Your valet computer's not too badly off, Julian. A skillful man can get a robe his own size." "Mm." "Unfortunately the thing wasn't up to giving me a uniform any larger than yours are." "Mm...oh. All right," Julian got up, stretching--he actually felt a bit better for the nap--and headed for the door. "I'll go to your quarters and get you one." He stepped groggily through the door, hearing Miles make a protesting sound from behind him, but it didn't really register. I think I'll bring him the uniform and go straight to bed, he thought. Halfway there he wondered if Miles had been trying to tell him he'd changed his door code, but he wasn't going all the way back; he'd call his own quarters and ask for the new code if the old one didn't work. But the code worked; he found a fresh uniform in the closet and started back. He literally bumped into Quark in the corridor. "Excuse me." "You're looking a little peaked, Doctor," the Ferengi observed solicitously. "Late night?" "Rather." "That uniform...it's not your color." "It's for chief O'Brien." "Was he too rumpled this morning to appear in public?" Julian chortled. "To put it mildly. When I came back to my quarters this evening, he was..." belatedly Julian clamped his lips shut. Neither Miles nor himself was habitual enough a drinker for this to be routine, and questions might reveal more about the condition of Miles's family life than was anyone's business, particularly not that of the proprietor of Quark's Bar and Gossip Emporium. "I take it you both enjoyed the Denebian brandy, then." "Yes. Delicious. Thank you." He nodded to Quark without looking at him and started down the corridor at a speed he didn't feel equal to. When he reached his quarters and went over to Miles, holding out the uniform, Miles snatched it with what seemed unwarranted irritation. "What's wrong?" Julian took a step back. "How many people do you think saw you leave here, go to my quarters and come back with one of my uniforms?" Julian stared at him. "I doubt anyone was interested enough to track my progress that far." "Didn't you even think about how this might look?" "As a matter of fact, I did. I ran into Quark in the corridor--" "Oh, God," Miles groaned. "--and he doesn't know any more now than he knew last night, after we drank three pints of ale each, bought the brandy, and left the bar, except whose quarters we went to. No one does." "They did when we totaled my second-to-last bottle of Bushmill's over your old classmate." "That's because Quark knew Elizabeth was coming even before I did! Everyone knew, for that matter. But unless someone has been monitoring your incoming calls, no one could know what last night's binge was prompted by. Relax." "That isn't what I mean. If Keiko can know enough about how much time we spend together to be worrying about my fidelity--and it's not as though Keiko's a jealous woman. If she's thinking it, there MUST be some here on the station who can put two and two together." Julian stared as Miles unfolded the uniform and started angrily for the bedroom to change. "...two and two together? You sound like we ARE having an affair. Just because we get drunk in my quarters and I bring you a clean uniform the next day--we've been friends for years. You can't really think anyone will construe an affair from this." Miles stopped; he laid a hand over his face and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Julian. I suppose I was just...wondering what Keiko would think if...I mean, perhaps it's stories like this that have made her wonder." Julian sighed and sat down on the back of the couch. "One, we haven't determined as an absolute fact that she's really wondering. She may just have been angry. And two, if she is wondering, I'm convinced that it's only because she feels insecure, and that it does seem to her like I make you happier than she does, and she feels guilty. I would bet my commission that that is all there is to this. Now go and change before you catch cold. You're probably the most difficult patient I've ever had." Miles glanced back briefly, hand on the doorframe. "You're probably the best friend *'I've* ever had." He turned away and the door closed behind him. It was some nights later, and Julian had begun to think he no longer fell into the 'friend' category at all as far as Miles was concerned. "Oh, you're a windmill tonight, aren't you, Julian?" Miles muttered, yanking the darts one-by-one out of the board and stalking back to the line for his turn. "Windmill? Oh, I see the analogy," Julian said, sipping from his ale mug. "What if I am? It's just a game. Is that shoulder acting up? Let me take a look." Julian put his mug down and approached the chief where the latter was toeing the line and preparing to throw. As Julian's fingertips touched Miles, however, he jerked violently away in the manner of a startled invertebrate marine creature. "Keep off when I'm trying to set up a throw, can't you?" "Sorry," Julian said insincerely, eyebrows raised and hands held wide. "By all means, take your shot." He wandered back over to the bar to pick up his mug, shaking his head. Ever since the other night in his quarters, Miles had been a walking twitch, at least whenever Julian was around. The doctor had actually *seen* the phenomenon overtake Miles once, when he turned around and saw Julian standing behind him in Ops. The mild-mannered, distant expression Miles was wearing had transformed into something resembling panic; he'd muttered, "'Scuse me, Julian," and ducked around to the lift before Julian could get a syllable out. Major Kira had been the only one who saw. "What was that, Doctor? You two having a lover's quarrel?" "You're a riot, Major. I don't know what's wrong with him. Or with me, if it's something I've done." "It just about has to be, from *that*. He was in a great mood until he saw you." "Wonderful," Julian had muttered just below audibility. Miles, at the moment, was on his way to completing the worst darts game Julian had ever seen him play. The doctor gazed in morose silence until his turn came, then set his ale down and went to the board to retrieve the darts as Miles saw one of his staff come in and hurried over to snag the unsuspecting woman. Julian threw darts arbitrarily, pulled them out of the board, and went to where Miles was talking with the Bajoran technician. He waited a moment, then, rather than interrupt their conversation or continue to stand there waiting, took Miles's hand and turned it over to place the darts in his palm. The result of this action caught the attention of more than a few bar patrons and scared the technician into skittering backward into the steps that led to the dabo table behind her, where she'd have landed on her rear had not the dabo girl on duty spun around and caught her under the arms. Finding the other two darts could wait; Julian was busy sucking on the puncture in the edge of his right palm. He did hope there weren't two as-yet-unidentified bar patrons with archaic game pieces sticking out of their various epidermal layers. He swallowed blood and removed his hand from his mouth to examine the wound and demand "Miles, my God, WHAT has got you so wound up?!" Julian had seen Miles get red-faced before, but this particular shade was new to Julian. "I...you startled me, all right? Sneaking up on a man like that, what did you expect?" "I didn't expect to be bleeding this evening, is what I didn't expect. Look, you're obviously not in the mood for darts tonight. Why don't we call it a draw? And an evening." "Fine," Miles snapped, already threading his way through the crowd and out of Quark's. Julian sighed and picked up the bloody dart in front of his boot, then went to the bar, where Quark was waiting expectantly; before the doctor could speak, the Ferengi held out a dermal regenerator. "Thanks. If anybody finds the other two darts, would you let me know?" He finished healing the small hole and switched the instrument off, handing it back to Quark. "Sure, doctor. Far be it from me to add to the troubles of a man having...difficulty in the romance department. I must say, for a hu-man as physically attractive as you're supposed to be, you don't seem to have much luck in that area." "ROmance department?" Julian, having just picked up the dart and turned away, froze in his tracks and looked back. "Who said anything about my love life?" "No one had to say anything. The chief--obviously, you've done something to upset him. I'd thought you'd show more discretion; he is a married man, and not the most stable--" "Miles and I are NOT having an affair!" "That's what I told everyone, " Quark reassured him quickly, "until it became pointless to lie about it. It's obvious the man's lovesick. Whatever it is that's come between you, he's not taking it well at all." "Oh, for..." Julian sank down on a barstool and rested his forehead on his palm. "Get me a black hole, Quark." "Coming right up, doctor." Quark patted his arm in commiseration, and Julian groaned. He had just finished the drink and was about to order another when his badge chittered for attention. "Sisko to Bashir." He sighed. "Bashir here." "Doctor, could you come to my office for a few minutes? The Provisional Government has requested our assistance in a brief mission; routine, but it will require one of your people." "I'm on my way, Commander." --- When he walked, fortunately still steadily, into the Commander's office, he was a bit startled to see Miles already there, but not startled at the chief's glower. "Miles," he said, with an extremely bright and pleasant smile. "Pleasure to see you again." Miles grunted. Sisko gave them both a sharp look, but apparently decided that whatever it was was either none of his business, or irrelevent to the business at hand. "Have a seat, doctor. As I said, this is fairly routine, but not enough so to let it wait until tomorrow. The Unet Kir astronomical research station has detected unusual radiation emanating from a particular asteroid in the Denorios Belt; it may be a crashed ship." "Anyone gone missing recently?" Miles wondered. "Wormhole traffic, anything?" "No, but as you know, there is a certain percentage of traffic through this system that's not announced ahead of time. All the station can tell from here is that if it is a crashed ship, it carried reactor fuel; and if it isn't, there's an unexplained EM source floating around the Belt. I'd like you, chief, to take the Rubicon and find out which it is; identify the ship, if it is a ship, determine the extent of the damage. Doctor, I'd like one of your people to go along, on the off chance there is anyone in need of rescue and medical attention. It's not likely, but--" "Oh, I'll go myself, Commander," Julian said brightly. "Routine, as you said, shouldn't take long. And if there IS anyone in need of attention, I just wouldn't forgive myself for not going along." Sisko looked suspiciously at the overcheerful doctor, then at the simmering chief of operations. "Whatever you think best," he said. "I trust that this mission will be...uneventful." The last was not a question. "I'm sure it will be," Julian nodded vigorously. "I'll just pop by sickbay and pick up a few things, then meet the chief on the platform." "Sounds good. Dismissed," Sisko nodded, and Miles and Julian left, at the same time, but not together. Miles headed for the lift; Julian considered, then climbed down the ladder access to the next level, which was his usual route anyway. --- "My," Julian muttered, as they slowly overflew the wreckage that littered an asteroid that massed barely enough to have a gravity field strong enough to hold it. Julian suspected escape velocity over there was three running steps and a jump. "Cargo drone," Miles said immediately as the wreckage came into view. "I'll have to get a bit closer to determine whose it is." "That radiation's in a very uncomfortable band," Julian said. "Our sheilds *can* screen it out?" He knew they could; he was saying it mostly for something to say. "Of course. I'm taking us closer. Are you getting a disctinct signiture yet?" "Yes, I..." Julian tapped a few keys. "I'm afraid this is as distinct as it gets. The computer can't identify it. There are missing elements..." Miles nodded. "A powerful reactor only slightly damaged would produce readings like that." "I've included that in the specs," Julian muttered, staring at the screen that information was on. "No, still nothing definite. A list of about seventeen possibilities." "Well, that's seventeen more than we had a minute ago. You up for landing?" "On THAT?" "More of a hookup, really. It'll be a delicate job, I admit, but--" "You're a far more experienced pilot than I am, Miles. It's up to you. What do you plan to do then?" "Well, that debris extends almost to the far end of the asteroid from the reactor. I was thinking of coming in close and getting a few readings not drowned out by that radiation." "Not with a tricorder, I take it." "If necessary," Miles shrugged. "The envirosuits--" "Miles! It's a silly risk to take." "The commander ordered us to find out if the source was a wrecked ship, and if so, whose ship it is. That's all I'm trying to do." "I think you're trying to annoy me." Miles smirked. "Hmp. Don't flatter yourself. I'm just doing my job. Now you do yours and find us the least EM exposed portion of that asteroid that's anywhere near a piece of debris. Any piece will do, you know. Don't be nervous." "I'm not nervous," Julian muttered tightly, tapping the scanner controls. "It's just that this is going to be dicey, and in my opinion it's unnecessary. We know it was a cargo drone, there are no potential crew in need of rescue. That cracked reactor is making a mess of the sensor array, and probably our subspace as well. If--" There was a grinding crunch from the rear of the ship that vibrated everything that contacted their bodies. Sirens whooped. "What the hell was--" "The sensor array," Miles muttered. "DAMN it. Looks like we were already close enough for hookup. Starboard nacelle impulse took some minor damage; still functional. I'm taking us out from the asteroid." Julian barely managed to say only "No problems with life support. Internal systems all normal." "Well, that nacelle isn't. I'm going to have to shut down a couple of its attendant systems and put a patch in." "And how long is that going to take?" "Not nearly as long as getting back to the station from the Denorios Belt on thrusters, or trying to come out of warp without giving new meaning to the word 'overshoot'." Julian only nodded. From the subdued tone of Miles's voice, the doctor knew he regretted his earlier hotshotting, especially since Julian was likely right--he'd come on this mission himself expressly because he knew it would annoy the chief, and like any red-blooded third-grader, the chief had been making him regret it. 'I suppose we've both been pretty silly,' Julian thought, and decided to make some sort of overture as soon as things weren't so immediate. Offer to assist with the temporary repair, perhaps. Julian was finishing up the log entry, noting what his readouts told him about the condition of the runabout; two systems that had been down were now running at near optimum, thanks to O'Brien's efforts. And no thanks at all to me, he thought with a snide-yet-wounded expression, touching the control to close the entry. A shadow fell across his board, and he swiveled his chair. "Yes? How's everything going?" He certainly wasn't about to ask if O'Brien needed a hand again, not after that last snap. He kept his expression blank and his tone noncommittal. Miles was worrying at the tool clasped tightly in his hands. "Fine. I'm waiting for a recharge to finish." "Perhaps you should do your system checks, then." O'Brien nodded and sat down in the pilot's chair, placing the tool carefully out of the way on the panel. He began a check, paused, then continued. "I'm sorry, Julian." Julian was quiet, eyes on his readouts. Then he replied "It's all right. We're under a bit of stress." Miles watched him a moment. "It's not all right, is it." "I don't think this is the time to go into it." Miles went back to the system checks. The silence was a palpable haze in the cabin. Julian muttered something semi-audible. "Something IS wrong," he said a little louder, "and you take it out on me." He started manipulating the controls with slightly more force than was necessary, then gave it up and turned to face Miles. "If it's something I've done, I deserve to know what. If you *will* be biting my head off every few moments." "I'm sorry about the darts, too." "Forget the darts. Blast it--" he closed his eyes, calmed himself, and continued "Why do you become an exposed nerve when I enter the room? I want an answer this time." Miles stared dully at the viewscreen. "I can't believe this is happening. I just don't believe it." He leaned forward onto the panel and buried his eyes behind his palms with an exasperated sigh. All right, Julian thought tiredly, he needs help again. "You've been like this since you got that call from Keiko. Are you blaming me for how angry she is at you? It wouldn't be unusu--" "It's not that. Not exactly. I'm just...what she thought about us. About us being..." "Miles, she never directly accused you, or even really implied..." he was busily going over the events of the last several days in his mind, and trailed off as a stunning thought dawned. "It isn't just what Keiko thinks that you're worried about. It's ME. You think that I *do*--" "No, no," the chief interrupted, in aggravation, getting up and moving as far away as the limited space permitted. "No. It's not that." Julian was very quiet, still. Then his eyes widened and he whispered "Ohhh." Miles didn't say anything. They were both so still Julian felt the air might crack if he drew breath. His thoughts threatened to reach a fever pitch as the situations of the past week were pulled out of his head and shoved back in at a different angle. "But you love Keiko. You can't really..." "YES I love Keiko, she's my wife! I never want to leave her. Or do anything that might make her leave me." "Well, if your feelings are that definite, why is there a problem?" Miles turned to stare at him. "What do you MEAN why is there a problem? Why is there a PROBLEM? Julian, this. Is. A PROBLEM!" Julian made a shrug of half-acquiescence, but tried to mitigate. "Well...I'm flattered, of course--" Miles threw him a murderous glance. "--but...you're in love with Keiko. You know that." "I know that, but..." "You feel guilty." "Yes. It's...I had a bit of a crush on that Bajoran assistant I had, Neela, but it was just...a bit of a crush." He smiled slightly, looking at his thoughts. "And Keiko knew, from the very first. She knew." "Was she upset?" Miles shook his head. "No. For one thing, she knew Neela was going back to Bajor as soon as she finished her training stint on the station--if what had happened to her hadn't happened, with the Vedek and all. I didn't feel more than a touch guilty about the whole thing. This is different." There was a pause. Julian prompted "Because you and I *are* close?" Miles nodded, looking miserably uncomfortable, red and sweating and tense. "And now Keiko seems to know about--this, too. And this time, she's angry." "Miles...you need to decide how you're going to handle this. I know how uncomfortable it's all making you--" "Oh, no. You don't." "--but you can't expect it to take care of itself." Mile's mouth quirked in an expression of irony as he sat back down. "I know. I'm alienating my wife and my best friend both, all because I care so much about them." "Ah..." Julian cast about frantically for a way to phrase the question delicately. "Is this--if this is only, how did you put it, a bit of a crush...perhaps we could just take a break from each other and it'll--" "I don't know. I don't so much feel guilty about...the impulse. It's not even really all that much of an impulse. It's that despite the fact that it's there, I can't--I won't give you--end our friendship. If you follow me. Neela was just...a kid, and she seemed to have the instinct, and...you're--well. You understand." Miles seemed to be talking to the integrity field stress indicator rather than to Julian. The doctor had to smother a sympathetic smirk. It probably wouldn't be taken the right way. "You're more than a passing fancy to me, too," he said, as neutrally as possible. It seemed to need saying, but no point making the chief bolt out of the cabin. "Just there," Miles said, pointing at Julian without looking at him. "There's another reason I didn't want to tell you. I've probably ruined everything. We'll both be acting *casual* now." Julian grinned. Miles could be as perceptive as anyone, when he cared to be. "This isn't...well, all right, I'm shocked, I'll admit, but not upset. Except for how upset you are. I know I'm starting to sound like a repeating glitch, but this isn't that odd. Has it ever occurred to you that the reason you're attracted to me at all might relate to the fact that you know there's not the least chance of anything...untoward actually happening between us?" Miles was quiet a moment, then turned and glanced at Julian, looked pensively away again. "Huh. Hadn't thought of that." Julian started to lean over and touch Miles' shoulder, but aborted the gesture just in time to turn it into an apparently casual stretch. "We needn't let this change anything. You already know you don't want to, ah, requite the situation with me, correct?" "You can believe THAT," Miles said grimly. "I may have the odd impulse here or there, but nothing could make me cheat on Keiko." "Well, then," Julian said easily. "There we are." "Yes, there we are. Uh, even so..." he trailed off. Julian waited, eyebrows raised. "Even so," Miles began again, "I think we should...watch our drinking in the future." Julian puzzled, "Watch our...oh. I see." He smiled, a bit wickedly, he was afraid. "I SEE. Miles, have you taken advantage of me while I was not in command of my senses?" "You could say that. I...God." His face, which had been fading to normal, flushed again. "I kissed you." "Was it a...*brotherly* sort of kiss? Or a little more inten--" Miles raised his voice to override Julian's, stomping the doctor's teasing with the words "It was on the lips, damn all, and quit that. This is bad enough." Julian leaned toward Miles, his expression all innocence. "And did I...respond?" "Oh, you responded, all right. You rolled over on top of me. I never knew you went in for that sort of thing. Men, I mean." "Oh, now and again. It's not my ordinary--Miles, your face is about to explode. I can see the pulse in your neck from here. Try to calm down." "Easy for you to say. You don't remember any of this." "So what happened then? After I rolled over on you and, if I know myself at all..." "...you tried to perform a tonsillectomy without benefit of surgical tools." "But not without anesthesia." Julian's expression was evilly gleeful. "And then...?" "You passed out, praise God." "That explains why I don't remember it. All right, that'll be a new rule--no drunken commiseration past a certain level in the bottle. That being stipulated, I think you'd better talk to Keiko about this. Obviously she already knows something is wrong in your thoughts. Tell her it's only--how did you put it, the odd impulse here or there--that it's her you're married to and her you love. The truth may be unkind at times, but the imagination can be brutal." "True enough." Julian went back to his board. "I suppose Keiko's being jealous made you think other people might be able to see your...impulses." "Exactly. Which is why I was such a bastard for a week." "Oddly enough, it was your being a bastard that caught everyone's attention." He grinned. "Major Kira asked me if we were having a lover's quarrel." "THAT figures." "She meant well. She didn't realize how upset you were." "What did you tell her?" "That I didn't know what was wrong. Don't worry. This is no one's business but ours, and Keiko's. I'm not going to tell anyone." "Oh, I didn't think you would," Miles assured him hastily. "But it helped to hear it, didn't it?" Miles smiled. "I'd better see how that recharge is coming along." --- The End