The BLTS Archive - Shattered Image
Fourth in the Image series
by Blue Champagne (rowan-shults@sbcglobal.net)

---

Hi. B.C. here. :) Paramount owns Trek. I only own the specifics of
this story. No one is making any money from this. Please don't print
or post or archive etc. without running this header.

This story, the fourth in the "Image" series, begins immediately after
the ending of the DS9 ep "Doctor Bashir, I Presume". (By the way, I
know that Spitfires and the Battle of Britain were both WWII, but I
thought a visit to WWI would be in keeping with Julian's character.
The double-seater biplanes didn't have such spectacular range, but I
seem to recall that they did make it back and forth across the Channel
regularly. <s>)

---

Julian stood at the lock, having said a sincere "thank-you" to his
father for the first time in nearly twenty years, and having no idea
at all what to do with the way that made him feel.

Not that it hadn't been deserved. That it had--and how very much it
had--was the problem. He turned away from the great gear-shaped lock
and walked slowly along the corridor, hands clasped behind his back,
eyes looking into an entirely different quadrant. He supposed he
should return to his quarters and...no. He should go to the infirmary
and find some work. There was certainly no shortage of that lately,
and it was one of the few things that could rearrange his emotional
state when he lost his grip on it.

And his feelings about his mother were no more clear. Amsha had always
been loving, attentive, supportive--of his father, primarily, but also
of Julian. What Julian couldn't figure out was what made the woman
agree to her own son's transformation into something other than human,
and what made his father as much worth her attentions and
understanding as he was himself. She had, of course, explained--more
than once--and her words of sorrow and worry at what she might have
done to harm him, her fear for his unhappiness...from her, he could
manage, most of the time, to believe it.

But she wanted him to believe it was also his father's primary reason
for coming up with that particular "plan" to begin with, and Julian
was going to need a lot of time before he managed that. He was sorry
it hurt her, but she never lied to him, and he wasn't about to start
lying to her, even when the truth tore her in two directions. And
besides, he'd made that easier for her. He'd made it obvious when he
left Earth that he did not expect her to continue to try and maintain
their relationship when Julian refused to have one with her husband.
His father.

His *father*...had *been* his father...and Amsha...

Just as he detected a fatal error looming in his emergency mood
control, something touched his shoulder. He nearly exploded out of his
uniform, coming back down on the deckplate facing the other way.

"Up for some dinner?"

Oh, God, who else.

The chief appeared entirely relaxed--hey, no issue at all to make of
this that Miles could see. His immediate reaction on hearing the news
had been not shock, not anger--he'd been scared to death for Julian,
trying to convince him to take action to protect himself, offering his
own assistance. That was all. So intelligent, so complex--and so
simple. Julian was his friend. His friend had a serious problem which
he'd done nothing to initiate. Emergency damage control time. End of
story.

Miles continued "I thought you might want some time alone, but Keiko
insisted. She thinks you need people around you. Well, the word *she*
used was 'family', but I told her you'd burst a blood vessel if I said
that to you right now." He smiled slightly and laid a hand on Julian's
arm. "Come on, it'll cheer her to see you're doing all right."

"Are you sure? We've only just got you back home. Won't she want you
to herself and the children for a bit?"

"Not judging by the evidence. She told me to assure you we want you to
come, if you got to wondering about that."

Julian took all of three and a quarter milliseconds glancing away,
then glancing back, smiling. "Why not. For Keiko."

"Sure. Come on; she's getting all set up for you, you know how she
is."

"Let's not keep her waiting."

---

As they approached the O'Brien's quarters, Julian asked, as casually
as he could manage, "Will the Major be joining us this evening?"

"Naw, she's got her hands full. I think Keiko had an ulterior motive
asking you over--Yoshi's in one of his moods. With Nerys deciding to
move back to her own place so soon, the only thing that quiets him,
sometimes, is your voice and that playground-equipment thing you do
with that beanpole body of yours. Besides, Molly heard there was
trouble and she wants to see you, too."

"You told her what was happening, then?"

"Didn't have a choice. The child is psychic. She walked up to Keiko,
bold as you please, and asked for an explanation of the Eugenics
Wars."

"Oh, my."

"That's *right* oh my. We had to start right at the beginning. She's
outraged for you, by the way. The way she sees it, your parents took
you to the hospital when you were sick, and now you, and they, are
being punished for it."

"I wish I saw it that way, " Julian muttered.

"Well, I do, in a way. So does Keiko. Someday, so will Yoshi. So
there's hope. After you." Miles gestured him in. Julian forwent
commenting on Miles's last statement and concentrated on hoisting
Molly into his arms when she smacked into him.

"Hello, doll. Agh--sweetie, you're too big to throw in the air any
more!"

"I heard you got sick and they said you couldn't be here in Starfleet
and you couldn't be my doctor!"

"Slow down, slow down," he shushed gently, setting her back on her
feet as Miles discreetly went to assist Keiko in the dining area. "I'm
going nowhere, I'm not leaving Starfleet, and I'll be your doctor
until you decide you want a different one." He crouched in front of
her to bring them eye to eye, holding her hands.

"Unless the war."

"Yes, sweetie. Unless the war. Things are no different there than
before." He stroked her head. "You know we all wish we could promise
that you and Mommy and Yoshi could stay here, with Daddy and aunt
Nerys and me, if it gets dangerous here, but you know better; that's
part of what being in Starfleet means. But we'll never leave you
willingly, count on that."

"I know." They hugged again, and Julian wondered what in the whole
stellar firmament made this child love him so much. He'd had no idea
how to be a child, himself, he'd been either clueless, or else so far
beyond his agemates...and he'd never had any great desire to be a
father, never having had a particular respect for the institution in
general.

It had to be her, then. Molly'd had Miles, so Molly could love him
anyway. 'Molly, you won't be able to understand this for a while, but
you're one of the best friends I've ever had', he thought. She giggled
as he stood up again with her squeezed tight in his embrace, her legs
trailing to his knees, and started walking to the table with her. This
was because he didn't want her seeing his face at the moment, and he
needed her hair to hide in from everybody else.

"Sorry, Julian, but she's been waiting to see you all day," Keiko
said, "I told her we were asking you over. Come here and help me with
the table, sweetie." Julian set Molly down and smoothly managed to
replace her wavy, deep-brown hair with Keiko's gleaming black hair,
narrowly stopping himself from picking her up, too.

By the time she pulled back from him, he had his face under control in
a relaxed smile and Miles had the main course on the table, and was
fetching Yoshi's chair. "I'm told my services as a jungle gym are
required," Julian observed to Keiko. He watched Yoshi being placed in
the chair, which was basically the med-monitored baby carrier
positioned on stilts, and said "My Lord, that's a huge baby. Six weeks
and he looks ready for soft foods."

"Forget jungle gym, he's not *that* big yet. You're more of a ferris
wheel as far as Yoshi's concerned. Here, sit down, you're the guest."
She pulled his chair out for him with her ankle and bumped him into it
with a nudge from her hip as she set a plate in front of him. "Let me
just get the wine. And no, sweetie. You need your milk."

"*Yoshi* drinks milk."

"*I* didn't drink milk when I was your age, and I never got any taller
than this. Not what *you* want, is it?" Keiko smiled, setting down
Julian's glass, then Molly's.

"Uncle Julian can make me tall. His parents made him tall."

Everyone froze. Except Yoshi, who broke the rapidly progressing
crystallization of the spacetime continuum by nailing the wall with a
powerful stream of bazooka-regurgitated formula.

"Yoshi--" Miles groaned and moved to recover the situation as time
restarted. "That's why we have him facing away from the table."

"I was sick, Molly," Julian said softly, directly to her and not the
general area. "You know that. You aren't sick. You'll get tall because
you eat right, just like most people do. Keiko, let me get that, I
think Miles needs help."

"I think he does too." Julian accepted the serving dish and hot pad
with one hand and finished ladling the rich, aromatic stew into
everyone's plates. Miles and Keiko were having to start all over again
getting Yoshi situated.

"Gor, Julian. I think the boy can smell you. He's throwing his weight,
trying to knock the chair so it'll fall in your lap."

"Throwing his *weight*? He can hardly roll over yet. Here, set the
chair next to me and I'll help you with him." He put the serving dish
on the warmer in the center of the table and easily lifted the
now-cleaned Yoshi, chair and all, over various obstacles to sit it
next to his own at the end of the table. "One of you take Molly's seat
instead and we'll trade off."

"You shouldn't have to do this..." Keiko sighed.

"Do I look like it's bothering me?"

"No," Miles said, rolling his eyes. "You look smug as a Cheshire cat.
Sit down, lord spare us."

"I wanna sit next to Julian," Molly said quietly, her brow lowering
ominously.

"Take my seat, sweetie," Keiko said, and finally, with the parents
able at last to get some sustenance and the favorite uncle evenly
distributed, the meal could commence.

---

"You look like you could use another," Keiko said, and leaned across
the table to fill Julian's glass again. "I can only imagine the sort
of day you've had."

"Make that the sort of *week* I've had. But yours has hardly been
better."

"I admit I've been preoccupied wondering when I was going to get my
husband back, but I was...worried, and uncomfortable with that other
Miles, not panicked, not after I got over the first shock. Our Jadzia
knew all about the experiment that generated that artificial quantum
fissure, even if it took her some time to figure out just what aspect
caused it, and she and Nerys both convinced me that Jadzia and the
other Miles would get mine back for me. Even Worf assured me that it
could be done, though he personally didn't know quite how. Data did,
though, and his message helped. You, on the other hand...everything's
come down on your head, irreversibly. It could have been a lot worse,
but still--by the way, are you sure you don't want me to put that
uniform in the laundry for you? Miles has some things you could wear
home."

"I'm not a pediatrician, but I *have* been spat up on before. The
scrub was enough to take away the smell. It'll be fine. Good heavens."

Keiko rolled her eyes in response to the squeal from Molly, in the
bathroom, that had inspired Julian's comment. "And somehow, he gets
them both clean at the same time. I can't do that to save my life. Not
with Yoshi in the sink..." The sound of another violent splash
emanated from the bathroom.

"Miles can hold Yoshi in one hand over the tub bassinet, is most
likely the reason for that. Plus I think Molly likely helps out more
when it's poor old Dad Miles trying to take charge of things, instead
of our competent Keiko."

She chuckled. "Probably." She paused, and said "Listen, Julian,
there's something I want to talk about with you."

Julian raised his brows, took a sip from his glass, and nodded.
"Certainly. Something medical?"

"Yes, but not about any of us. About you."

"Oh." He blinked. "I see. Do I appear ill?"

"No. You don't. But anyone who knows you...knows you won't.
Julian...you're scared, and your soul hurts. I think it's hurting bad
right now."

Julian stared at the table. "And here I'd been so impressed with my
ability to cover that up."

"Oh, it's nothing to sneeze at. Miles and I have been close to you for
years--Miles is closer to you than he is to either of his
brothers--and when he heard you tell him..." she paused. "I'm sorry,
don't blame him for telling me about it, he needed to. When you said
to him, in your quarters, before you asked him for some time
alone...that you couldn't understand what was wrong, as a child, what
was happening with you or why...that all you knew for certain was that
you were a terrible disappointment to your parents."

Julian's gaze at the table grew glassy.

"He couldn't believe he'd never figured that out, Julian. You hide so
much so well. We knew that you do that, but not to what degree. And
now that I know, I know better than to leave you alone just because
you seem fine, or you tell me you're fine."

Julian was silent a moment, feeling, once again, somewhere between his
actual physical location and the Smaller Magellenic Cloud. "Well,
then, now you know. So does everyone, I suppose. Everyone knows about
it by now."

"But not everyone knows you like we do. They may know why you're so
good at what you do, so--superlatives fail me, here, Julian, but you
know what I mean. I don't think you need to worry that anyone but
Miles and I will...understand what's happening inside you so
thoroughly."

"It's likely you're the only ones interested enough to make the effort
at extrapolation in this case, so yes, that's probably true."

"I wanted you to know that we're not only here for you...we're going
to be in your face, at least for a while."

He looked up at her. She was leaning her chin in one palm, elbow on
the table, gazing across at him without a hint of apology. "We love
you," she said simply.

"Oh, Keiko." Julian abruptly set his wine glass down and got up,
moving away from her to come to rest against the back of the sofa.
"I'm about to quote your husband."

"Go ahead. He says some pretty smart things."

"I really wish you hadn't've said that."

"Why?"

"I'm used to being admired, and despised, and ignored, and pursued. I
suppose...when it comes to love...you and Miles have more of an
obvious feel for what the real thing is than anyone else I've ever
been close to."

"At least that you could accept it from."

"At least that wanted to offer it to me. I'm sorry, Keiko, what you're
doing is very kind and generous--in other words, very you and very
Miles. But it's not the easiest thing for me to hear right now. I can
understand how you'd think this would be the time to say such things
if they're going to be said. But it's...rather like a cold bucket of
water hitting me in the middle of a sauna."

Keiko sighed. "I did think of that, and I'm sorry, I knew it might be
hard right now. But I considered it, and decided I couldn't afford to
wait. I didn't know what might happen."

"You were correct as usual. It's not a chance I'd have taken in your
place."

"With Miles...you didn't take it. You let me cry on you, you dragged
him to your quarters practically by main force and told him you loved
him and you weren't leaving him alone with what he was dealing with,
you let *him* cry on you...Julian. It's payback time."

Julian, arms wrapped around his ribs, began to laugh, eyes closed,
finally nearly doubled over. "Oh, Gods. Fair enough, Keiko. You're
right. But--with Miles--all that I did for you was to help him, and
while I know that that's a great deal, it still seems odd that all
this is coming from you and not him."

"To make a long story short...I've had time to think, since I was so
upset about...what happened between you two. When I told you I trusted
you?"

"I don't think I'll ever forget the look on your face when you said
that."

"You see..." she got up and came around the table, moving slowly,
thinking. "Miles is lucky to have you, and I'm lucky he has you, but
hasn't it occurred to you that I'm lucky to have you, too?"

He turned his head to meet her eyes. "I don't quite follow."

"Think. You are the only doctor outside the Vulcan Medical Institute
who could have performed a fetal transplant, in a runabout--in *that
class* runabout--that was out of control and spitting fuel out one
nacelle, with no more than you had on hand. A transfer of a human baby
into a nonhuman. Then you piloted that crippled, spewing ship through
the wormhole and got us all home. How you gauged it to the last hair
with that sinking fuel supply, with half the systems down...if it
weren't for you, my baby would be dead, and I probably would be, too.
Maybe you don't see how I can be so fond of you just because you're
you, but surely you can understand *that*. You are more to me than my
husband's best friend."

"Keiko..." Julian was completely lost. "I was only doing my job. I
only did the best I could."

"Yes, whereas most doctors would have considered that situation
hopeless. I've seen the subsequent discussion papers on what you
published about that experience. Most of them would never even have
tried--they'd have tried to save my life, when the fuel pod explosion
hit me, but they would definitely have considered it a hopeless case
as far as my baby. But you--you just didn't consider writing Yoshi off
an option, did you."

"Well, no, I didn't. Particularly not after Kira jumped out of the
pilot's chair and yelled 'Damn it, *I've* got a womb! What are you
waiting for?"

Keiko smiled. "Yes, I owe Nerys just as much. But we're not talking
about her."

"Not to sound petulant, but what exactly *are* we talking about?"

She grinned. "Get to the point, you mean? Well, I already made
one--you've got family here. I know you don't really know how to deal
with that, and past a certain point I won't push the issue. Neither
will Miles. But there is one thing, I suppose the most immediate
thing, that I want from you."

"Name it. I'll do my best."

"I don't want you to be alone tonight. Or for a while, at night. I
think it'd be a bad idea."

Julian just stood there. Finally he cleared his throat and managed
"I...and...how do you propose I avoid that?"

"For tonight, I'm loaning you my husband. I don't care what you do
with him, but he's going to be physically present with you."

"I...see." Julian cleared his throat again, his eyes seeking the port,
realizing abruptly what Miles found so fascinating about the view
under these circumstances. "You're a very generous woman, Keiko, as I
said, but have you discussed this with the chief?"

"Oh, please, of course I have. You know what meant more to him than
your making love?"

Julian had to sit down. He did, on the sofa arm, hard. "You're going
to tell me, aren't you."

"You did exactly as you said you would and never discussed it, not
with anyone, even me or Telnori--you never brought it up to him except
in the most innocuous ways...but more than that, you didn't tell
anyone, or talk even to him, about how he cried on you. Either time."

"Of course not. I wouldn't do that."

"And he loves you for it in a way I don't think even he can completely
understand. The way he is, you know."

"Of course."

"He doesn't want to do this for payback, like I said--I only said that
to make you realize that you need to accept as well as give. He just
wants to."

"But he can't talk about it."

"Well, he would if he had to. But you *know* him, Julian, he'd a lot
rather that I do it."

"You have a point. Um...Keiko, I've seldom been at such a loss."

"Then shut up and come here." She smiled and held out her arms. He
managed to get to his feet after a moment, but she had to step forward
and pull him close.

'She's rocking me,' he realized after a moment. 'I'm being rocked
quiet. By Keiko. And it's not...Lord, maybe she's right.'

---

Harp and cello music, Irish songs, Irish harp, wafted through Julian's
bedroom.

"Do you always sleep in those loose pants things?" Miles wondered.

"No. I usually sleep naked these days. I'm wearing these for your
sake."

"I had to ask. Give me three."

"Dealer takes two."

"Stand."

"Let's see it."

"Blast! How the hell do you do that? How can even *you* calculate odds
at *draw*?"

Julian shuffled. "Perhaps I simply win a lot. There *is* the element
of chance to be considered."

"Not with you there's not. Coincidence ends where you begin, Julian.
Maybe we should try the farther toe mark AND the blindfold. I'm sick
of looking at those equilateral triple twenties."

"I'll try for an isosceles next time."

"Your generosity is touching. And as far as this business here goes, I
think I've lost enough for one evening."

"Whatever you want." Julian started packing the poker kit. "It's still
early, though."

"So let's do something else. Read anything decent lately?"

"Reams. But you hate my taste in literature."

"Not all of it. Just the stuff you've recommended lately, or that
Cardassian garbage Garak keeps foisting on you."

"I ask him for it."

"I rest my case."

"Your case? I thought it was my case."

Miles hit Julian in the face with a pillow.

"So *violent...!*" Julian cringed in mock horror.

"You haven't seen violent." Miles lunged for him and they both went
over off the bed.

Miles landed on top, paused, and said "Wait a minute."

Julian, flat on his back, raised his eyebrows. "Yes?"

"I told you to play your best game a hell of a long time ago, and now
that I've found one of the reasons for how good that game is..."

Julian grinned evilly. "You've decided that perhaps a physical attack
on me is something you don't want to do."

"The thought did occur."

"Let me help you up."

"I may not be superhuman, but I can still stand up." They returned to
the bed, dragging the covers back up. "And it may still be early, but
it's been a hell of a day for us both. Maybe we should just get some
sleep."

Julian sighed. "That does sound agreeable. Computer, lights down."

As they were dropped into cool near-darkness, they squabbled for
bedspace, reached a truce, and settled on their pillows.

There was a silence.

"Do you...feel like I did?" Miles wondered.

Julian paused before answering. "In what way?"

"What I told you about...who it was I was, or if I thought I was who I
was, or if I even deserved a who. That maybe it ought to be 'what'."

Julian was silent.

Miles muttered. "Sorry. Stupid question. You've probably ALWAYS felt
like that."

Julian smiled faintly. "Only in the bad moments. And I'm pretty good
at avoiding those."

"It'll be harder now."

"Indeed."

"And all that blather I made about what made consciousness, what made
a sentient or a non-sentient, and how quantifiable it all was.
Dedicated neurons. Memory engrams. All that with you knowing this
about yourself."

"Oh, Miles, spare me. You couldn't have known, and it's nothing I
haven't dealt with since I was fifteen years old."

"But no one *else* knew then."

"No more than anyone did when we had that talk on Mars! I don't need
your guilt, chief. You've done nothing to deserve it."

"Sorry, Julian. I really feel like I have. Since the day I met you,
I've done things I would never--"

"Do you think I would have appreciated that? Your 'sparing' me for
*that* of all reasons?" Julian turned up on one elbow to face the
chief.

Miles turned his head on his pillow. "Knowing you? I suppose not." He
paused. "Y'know, we're similar in another way--we both got up and got
the hell out rather than put up with being defined by someone else. By
the way, I don't for a minute believe your father is the one who
convinced you to go into medicine, as fixated on tennis as you may
have been for a while. There was never really any choice. You're far
too passionate about healing."

Julian smiled. "I appreciate that. But how did you know he said it? We
were in the Captain's office with...oh. Yes. Dax." He laid back down.

"Mm. She said it with some disgust, and incidentally no one else who
heard believes it either, as intense about medicine as you are. I
mean, she was even there for your working with those poor people the
Dominion cursed with the blight. For most of it, at least, and now we
all know how you saved their babies."

"Hm. Well. Send your congratulations to New Zealand Minimum Security
Rehabilitation. My father took credit for everything I accomplished in
my life that could have made him look good. If I failed, of course, it
was my doing. A person can only tolerate that for so long...so yes,
the choice was mine. I didn't make it to satisfy him."

"Julian, I hate to say this about a man's father, but it's taken him
too long to own up to you. What he's getting is what he
deserves--maybe not for the reason they're giving it to him, but he
deserves it. I'm sorry about your mother, though, how she must be
taking it. I know you don't resent her."

"Actually I do, sometimes. How she could let so many things go on...I
don't know. Perhaps she was weak, but we'd all be in rehabilitation if
that were a crime."

"I know how that feels. My mother backed my father about the blasted
cello thing, though I think privately she felt it was wrong to try to
choose for me who I'd be for the rest of my life. I *am* sorry she
died before we had the chance to completely reconcile, though we were
never really feuding, if you know what I mean."

"I do. I'm sorry, too."

There was a brief silence.

"Music bothering you?" Julian asked.

"Nah, some of my favorite pieces. Or is that why you chose them?"

"Mm-hm." Julian sighed, staring in the direction of the ceiling. He
folded his arms across his front and lay quiet.

"Julian..."

"Mm."

"Do you still believe...in what I was talking about, sacredness, a
soul, honor?"

"Oh." Julian chuckled mirthlessly. "You don't ask the easy ones."

"Neither did you, y'bloody duck-out artist, if ye'll think back a bit
to a whole run of therapy sessions in the holosuite."

"I don't know what to believe. When I told you about humanity and the
older races all trying to determine whether a tree makes a sound when
it falls in a deserted forest, I wasn't talking about humanity." He
chuckled. "In more ways than the fact that I was being more specific
than 'humanity'."

"You're as human as I am. And you did mean *you'd* been wrestling with
the questions I was bringing up since you could remember, didn't you?
You just didn't want to dump it on me right then."

"Maybe. If I even realized then why I said it. But you're right, it
wasn't the time to mention it."

"But now...to coin a phrase--this isn't *my* therapy session."

"Is that what this is?"

"This is me in bed with you wondering what the hell has got into my
wife and me that I'm here at all. Thanks for wearing the pajamas, by
the way."

Julian cackled. "Anything to make you more comfortable, my
safety-net."

"Isn't a hard job. *You* never fall."

"That's right. I don't. And I won't. But I appreciate what you and
Keiko--I mean...your thoughtfulness. And I have a sneaking suspicion
that in some way I haven't realized yet, I'm going to need you. Or at
least be glad you're here, if need isn't the right word."

"You truly do hate that word, don't you."

"I hate it applied to me every bit as much as you hate it applied to
you."

"I don't hate it at all. Keiko needed you, and so did my son. They're
not upset by that, either."

"Keiko and probably Yoshi too are infinitely wiser than either of us,
accelerated nerve pathway generation or no. You can't deny that you
and I are a bit on the obstinate side."

Miles hmphed a laugh. "A bit. You should hear the things Keiko says
when I get something lodged in my craw. Or when you do, for that
matter, but she doesn't have to look at it as often. You know, you
never *really* answered me. Why you did what you did for me. What you
believe, as much of it as you know, anyway."

"Consider it my version of what you did when I asked what you thought
the first time you saw me."

"I still think that. What I thought, the first time I saw you."

Julian lay stunned a moment, then managed to whisper "Thank you. I
think the same of you, whether you'll believe it or not."

Miles chuckled. "Right."

There was a quiet stretch.

"Miles..."

"Mm-hm?"

"I wonder if you'd hold my hand for a bit."

A pause, then Julian felt a soft touch on his left shoulder. He
unfolded his arms and reached up to take Mile's right hand in his own
left. They entwined their fingers and lowered their hands, letting
them rest on the mattress.

There was a long silence. Julian was barely thinking, but he wasn't
asleep.

Miles murmured "I can't guarantee anyone at all has a soul, no more
than you could. But if I have one, then you have one. Never doubt it."

Julian squeezed Miles's hand, and squeezed his own eyes closed. "Thank
you."

There was another silence, one so long that but for the pressure of
Miles's fingers, Julian would have thought the other man had gone to
sleep.

"Miles..."

"Mm."

"I was wrong. I had no right to speak to you the way I did. I was
reassuring you where I had no business doing it. I've been who I've
been for so long, but only now am I forced to admit that who that
is...that I don't *know* who it is, or even *if* it is, or what. I
wasn't acting as a friend, I was acting as a counselor, and giving you
the answers and comfort professionalism dictated--"

"Wait a minute, you, just put a sock in it a moment." Miles got up on
the elbow facing Julian, turning his forearm so that their handlock
didn't break, just wrapped into a slightly different configuration.
"You believed every word you said to me. Maybe you've been lying to
yourself about whatever, for however long, I don't know, I won't
presume to try and figure that. But you never lied a word to *me*. You
never gave me a pat answer, and even the ones that sounded pat, you
meant every syllable of; you weren't only counseling me. And I'm
damned if you let every patient you treat find his soul again inside
you. Truth, Julian. If you'd really been thinking of me only as a
'patient', would you have laid a hand on me, or let me lay a hand on
you? Do what you did for me?"

"Ahmmm...."

"No, bloody hell. You would NOT, and you know it. Now I know you
think, after what's happened, that you didn't have the right to say
the things you said to me, but you didn't feel like that then. Then,
you believed what you were saying. And I'm willing to bet you still
believe it as far as *I* go. It's yourself you're uncertain of. Deny
it and I'll punch your lying carcass right out of this bed."

"Miles, from that point of view, I understand. But can *you*
understand what a great fool I feel now, having gone on
about...everything I assured you of, with the confidence of a
self-satisfied vedek? Who did I think I was? I'm in no better case
than you."

"This may come as a shock to you, but I never thought you were."

Silence.

Julian cleared his throat. "You're right. That does come as a shock."

"I didn't think I was talking to God, your aspirations
notwithstanding. I thought I was talking to a real human being, and I
was. I just didn't know for sure what the definition of that was, what
it really meant."

"Miles...all I wanted to say..." Julian sighed and was quiet.

Miles suddenly released his arm and leaned over, pulling Julian close
against him. "You just wanted to tell me that you felt a dirty
hypocrite and you were sorry. I know you feel like that, but if I
thought I needed an apology, I'd ask for one. *I* don't need *your*
guilt either, Julian. You couldn't have known then what you know now,
either."

"But I did know. I knew it all."

"Somewhere. Certainly not on the surface. Not until everyone else who
mattered to you knew it too. That made it more real than it was
before, and now...business as usual for Julian Bashir, general genius
and miracle medical man, is as over as an oatcake. You're scared
people will be angry at you, like you've lied to them, or that they'll
simply resent what you've got over them and the exceptions that were
made for you, and you want to let them know you agree with their
reasons before they can hate you too much."

"Miles, how on *earth* are you doing this?"

"Not used to such insights from old wrenchhead Miles? I'm doing it the
same way you did. I know you. Take you, take what's happened to you,
and boom, the inside of your head is an open book to me. A few simple
equations, really."

"That means a lot to me, chief, it really does."

"Now, don't go losing it on me." Miles stroked Julian's head once.
"That was a hell of a fun night--once you stopped weeping over
Elizabeth Lense--but it was over a while back. Let's try to stay in
the here and now for once."

"The only good thing about the here and now is your being here, and
that's about to kill me, too. I'm afraid I can't stop wanting to
apologize."

Miles sighed, and sank to the mattress with Julian in his arms. "Ah,
well. Let's get it over, then. You deserve your say."

"Lovely. Now I don't *know* what to say. You stole every scrap of my
thunder, you melodrama-thief."

"Then let's just say I consider myself apologized to, that whatever
state of sin you might have been living in when you were counseling
me, your faith was real--and did me as much good as if you'd never
been near that blasted hospital when you were six. Gor, I wish I'd
known you then."

Julian blinked. "*Why*?"

"So you'd know I'd have been your friend anyway--not that I'm not well
fond of who you are now."

"But would you have hated me first?" Julian wondered, letting his head
roll on the pillow so that his forehead rested on Miles's shoulder.

"Probably not. Wouldn't have been the same without that, though."

Julian managed to chuckle. "I suppose not."

"I've told you. What they did to you couldn't give you the heart you
have, the integrity, the sense of humor, insight, inspiration...they
couldn't make you *care* so bloody much the way you do. All they did
was make you a bit more physically sprightly and save you some time
comprehending and calculating."

"I wasn't the most beautiful child in all of explored space, either."

"Neither was Keiko. You should see her baby pictures. She looked like
a potato."

"WHAT?"

"She did. And now look at her. You might have been a beauty anyway,
Julian, no way to know for sure."

"Don't do this to me."

"Don't do what?"

"I want to tell you how you're making me feel and I'm afraid you'll
slug me."

"Depends. How am I making you feel?"

"Damn. Confused!"

"HA! The tables have turned. Not much fun, is it. What--I know, you
want to believe me, on some level you even DO believe me, but on
another you can't let yourself believe and you *know* that I'm wrong."

Silence.

"I'm right, aren't I."

"I hate you, Miles Edward O'Brien."

"I hated you too, when you did this to me. And I'd never have made it
this far without you, and you know it."

"Why can't we be like other friends? Why don't we just let each other
suffer in silence?"

Silence.

Then they said, in unison, "Keiko."

"I love your wife."

"My wife loves you. Maybe I should go move in with Nerys."

"Oh, stop that."

"Sorry," Miles chuckled.

"Do you think we're talked out enough to sleep yet?"

"I'm willing to try, if you'll move that arm--there, comfy. Thanks.
Computer, music half volume. Good night, Julian."

"Mm...Miles." Julian yawned, feeling very warm and light, and then he
was asleep.

---

"...and up...two...that's good...you're getting it, left, right *don't
dip me yet*--"

Julian nearly overbalanced as Keiko clutched at his pajama shirt, her
entire weight briefly supported by the soft green fabric. He
windmilled and went painfully to one knee against the deckplate, Keiko
coming to rest with a head-jerking jolt against his other leg.
"Computer, stop music!" she gasped.

Julian caught Keiko in one arm and himself against the floor with the
other, panting "I'm just not a big fan of this one, Keiko. Are you all
right?"

"I've got an imprint of your knee in my back, but yes, I'm fine." They
struggled upright and stood swaying, clutching each other for support.
"You're so graceful, and you were so good at the others. What is it
about this one that--"

"I'm afraid you'll spin into the wall! There's not a lot of room in my
quarters, not for this, at least. If we go that last arm-length
roll-out you're going to hit the port. If we skip it, you fall over my
left leg when the dip comes up."

"Can we move the sofa?"

"Then we'll fall over the step level."

"You're supposed to step *with* it. We just do the steps a step down.
Julian, you can do this."

"I'm sure. But maybe there's another way to get me tired enough to
sleep."

"Let's do the Sessanata a few times more. It's easy and there's plenty
of room if we circle the living room set."

"Whatever you want, my dear. Computer, play Keiko Sessanata."

The music began, and the two of them moved easily around the room,
Keiko being lifted into the air by the waist every eighth step, except
for the pauses to change lead. Keiko could have been lifting Julian
half the time, but that was a little out of the question for reasons
of height discrepancy. The music was bouncy but not frantic, the
swingy movements easy to fall into; once one was in rhythm with one's
partner, one hardly had to think. Julian only had to enjoy the
movement, the music, and the closeness to Keiko.

They ended with her back against his front, all hands joined with one
each of their arms wrapped around Keiko, the others held out to the
side, right legs drawn back in what would have been preparation for
the next step. Julian squeezed her as they relaxed, laughing.

"There's a lot to be said for dancing with someone whose muscular
coordination has been enhanced," Keiko opined.

"There's a lot to be said for dancing with a graceful little cat like
you. Why don't you do it more often? You're quite good."

"Miles isn't all that fond of it, and I don't like spending all night
at a party on the dance floor with a string of other partners--he says
it doesn't bother him, but I can tell he feels inadequate."

"I can understand that. Dancing with you makes me feel like I've got
too many legs."

"No, they're just too long. So are your arms. Don't you feel like
you're dancing with a doll?"

"That's exactly what I feel like," he assured her, kissing her temple.

She laughed and turned to face him, their handlink breaking. "Fresh
thing!"

"Sorry. Carried away by the moment." He smiled at her. "It's your
nightgown. Making me crazy."

She laughed again and flopped onto the sofa, the voluminous folds of
her tentlike linen nightdress drifting to the upholstery around her.
"You still don't think you can sleep?"

"Keiko...it's just..."

She gazed expectantly at him.

"How can I sleep in that bed with *you*?"

"You slept in it with Miles."

"That's different."

"Why?"

"He's my best friend!"

"Whom you've actually had sex with, unlike me. Me with you, I mean."

"Um..."

"It's because I'm your 'best friend's wife'?"

"It's because I'm an idiot," Julian admitted shamefacedly, plopping
down next to her on the sofa in defeat. "I don't know why it feels
different, especially since we *know* all we're going to do is sleep."

"So why did your making love with Miles help my family, where your
simply sleeping with me might hurt it?"

"Because Miles needed me, of course. You know the whole story."

"Julian..." her voice rose on the word in a soft scold.

"All *right*! It's because you're such a lovely friendly unthreatening
understanding *knowing* grabable armful. I get a bit um. Something
other than sleepy when you're next to me in bed."

"Am I supposed to be insulted?"

"No, I'm just answering your question. Keiko, why do you even *ask* me
questions? You know all the answers."

"You don't have that easy a time getting your *real* thoughts and
emotions on the surface. I'm just getting it all up there--"

"For the world to see? Only fair, I suppose, it's what I did to Miles,
in a way."

"No, only for *you* to see. You finally just *said* something, Julian.
You didn't sew up the loose ends, you didn't bite it back--not much of
it--you didn't make it pretty, you didn't guard yourself. You just
told me. That lying in bed with me makes you feel like--all right, all
right. I'm pushing, here. Let's call it cuddling."

"Let's not. That's the first thing I feel, and it's innocent enough.
Did it with Miles all last night, practically. And it didn't feel odd
at all, and no, I've no idea why. It's not what he and I did those
months ago, that really hasn't changed our relationship that much.
Maybe we're just that used to each other by now. But you--if I were in
bed with Molly, I'd snug her right up and fall straight to sleep.
You're different. I'm not sure how I'd react, though I have an idea,
obviously."

"I'm glad to hear *that*, at least. You don't rank me in the same
category as a seven-year-old."

"I don't rank you in the same category as anyone. Even as Aphrodite,
Gaea, Athene and Artemis rolled into one."

"Wow." Keiko grinned. "I'm listening. Keep going."

"You--" Julian went for her ribs with his fingertips, but when she
didn't convulse or try to tickle back--just relaxed against his hands,
in fact--he yanked his extremities away from her in alarm.

She eyed him, a smile stretching her mouth agreeably. "You liked that,
didn't you."

"Ah--" he'd leaped up from the sofa and was moving in an apparently
casual fashion toward the replicator. "Let's not make more of things
than is really necessary, shall we? I mean, I only--"

She was chasing him at the same sedate pace at which he was moving,
but her posture reminded him of a stalking predator. "It felt good,
didn't it."

"Keiko! This isn't appropriate to--"

"Tell me how you felt!"

"*Good*! I felt good. *It* felt good." He stood impatiently, one hand
to his forehead, the other on the replicator tray.

Keiko relaxed from her stalking posture, smiling and letting the
metaphorical wind flow between them again, severing the intense
connection. "Excellent, Julian. Second time tonight."

"You're making me insane."

"Miles said you told him a lot of things without his having to shake
them loose at all. Tell me why you talked to him, but you won't to
me."

"You know perfectly well. Everything I said to him was true..."

"But it was edited. You told the truth, but only as much as you were
comfortable with, and you covered your assets better than any
Ferengi."

"And you just kicked me right in the assets, yes, I see what you're
getting at."

"How many times will I have to do that before you stop begging for
it?"

"Computer," Julian sighed, "one black hole, please, extra strong."

"Make it two," Keiko said, eyebrow raised, and Julian smirked and
relayed the request. Procuring the drinks, he nodded toward the sofa,
and they went back to it.

Keiko sighed. "Really, Julian. Did you think I wouldn't realize that
'I suppose I'm not sleepy' after about thirty seconds of lying there
with me, followed by you running like a rabbit out of the bedroom,
wouldn't tip me off...?"

"I don't think *any*thing. It's pointless around you."

"*Ooh*, that *smarts*, Keiko winced artfully, then took a swallow of
her drink. "But you'll have to do better than that."

"Keiko..." Julian took another swallow himself and set his glass on
the low table before them. "If you're trying to make it easier for me
to sleep, you're on the wrong path, I can assure you."

"I can assure you otherwise. There's something you need to do, and it
has to do with me. I think it's one among a lot of things you need
to...understand, or do, in general. You need to...I don't know, not
yet. Maybe more than one thing. But I know it's there. Trust me."

"I trust you. You're probably the only person I *would* trust to make
a call like that. It amazes me you're all human."

"Why?"

"Because as you know, there are sentients with a greater-than-human
ability to sense things in such matters. Some of them are better than
we are at adding up subliminal clues; some are telepaths; some have a
time sense that allows them to perceive the universe in a less linear
fashion than we do. And you could be any or all of those."

"It's probably the subliminal clues thing." She had another swallow of
her drink. "Miles said what you needed to do with *him* was apologize
to him."

"Odd he should say that, since he wasn't having any of it."

"I know, that's what he said. He had a point--what he said to you
about there being no need for any apologies was true--but it was also
true that you needed your say, as he put it. I think he needed his,
too."

"He rather stole mine. He's been almost exactly where I am."

"We know. And that's why you said you needed to apologize."

"Heavens, how circular."

"Think of it as a less linear perception. He also said you told him
you resent Amsha, but you immediately excused her."

"Non sequitur time, eh? All right--what's so odd about that? As I said
to him, if weakness were a crime..."

"I didn't say you forgave her. I said you excused her. I think you're
ashamed of yourself for resenting her."

"It doesn't give me the greatest high I've ever felt, no, you're
right."

"So instead of forgiving her--which means you acknowledge that you
honestly do feel she *did* do you a disservice--you excuse her, tell
yourself there was no real disservice and the fault is yours for
feeling there was."

"I do grasp that distinction, Keiko, but--"

"So not only does the resentment you feel, deep down, stay there
forever, the shame you feel about it stays there, too."

"Good Lord. You make Telnori look sick."

"Do you agree with me?"

"I think I'd damn well better. You're way out of my league."

"As a bull-hockey artist?"

"You know what I meant."

"Yeah, I do. Now do you agree with me?" she persisted.

"Keiko..." Julian looked away from her. "I...in a way, I do. But
I...listen. My parents didn't give me a chance to show them what I
could do, could be; they had me upgraded when I wasn't yet Molly's
age. But by the time I was seven...I understood just enough to become
quite distant with them. I was ashamed of my father and angry at him,
for his many inconstancies and inconsistencies, and disappointed by my
mother's willingness to continue being supportive of him."

"You must have been very lonely."

Julian blinked.

"Yes," Keiko said softly. "I know. You said the same thing to Miles
while you were counseling him."

"I suppose the difference being how readily he admitted it."

"Are you saying you weren't?"

Julian sighed. "I was. Estranged from my parents before puberty, no
siblings--God forbid, my parents thought, that they should wind up
with another like *me*--I found my agemates dull as flat ale and the
older children, the ones whose level of development I was actually in
at whatever given time, dismissed me as a baby, unworthy of their
company. So yes, my dear Keiko, I was lonely."

"And you've been carrying this secret around, pretending to
everyone--you've had that bottled up inside so long. You must still
have felt terribly alone."

"We're rehashing Miles's sessions again."

"But we're talking about you this time. So you were very distant with
your parents. Amsha as well as your father."

"Yes. They didn't give me a chance, but...I suppose I didn't give my
mother much of a chance to do anything to make it up to me. I was
quite arrogant with them. Think of normal childhood and teenage
disdain for one's parents and multiply it by an IQ of almost two
hundred. Add in everything else you know about the situation, such as
the fact that I found out in detail what was done to me when I was
fifteen."

"Wow."

"I'm not over my anger at my father, despite what he's done for me
now; I'm not happy about it, but there it is. But mother..."

Keiko laid a hand on his forearm, gently. "You think you did *her* a
disservice, too."

"I did. A great one. She loved me, but I wouldn't...I was too angry at
her for what she'd allowed my father to do, and before I knew about
that, for the constant allowances she made for him. I still
don't...don't know how to feel about that, about her."

"You're still angry at her for what she did--but angrier at yourself
for what you did to her?"

"I suppose that's it." He deflated suddenly, exhaling as though
letting go of a heavy object. "I forced her to choose between her
husband and her son. And however justifiable I or anyone else may find
it...that isn't a kind thing to do to a woman who was kind to *me*
even when I spurned her affection, the woman who brought me to life.
At least the first time...God, I feel like I'm in a confessional."

"I'm not trying to upset you, Julian..."

"Oh, as you're surely aware, I am upset, and I'll be upset for some
time, most likely, but in my usual inimitable fashion I won't be
allowing it to affect my behavior."

"Julian. You don't get down often. But when you do, you get down in
the *dirt*. You're like that now. I don't think this is the time to
worry about maintaining appearances. It's time to accept some support
from the people who care about you."

"I'm trying, aren't I? You're here, aren't you?"

"With my hammer and chisel, yes, I'm here."

Julian laughed. "Miles only brought a poker set and his shoulder."

"Miles is more fatalistic than I am." She took another swallow of her
drink. "So, about Richard..."

"No."

"'No' what?"

"No, I'm not talking about my father. Not now, not yet. I can't. Don't
ask it of me, please."

She paused, considering. "All right," she finally said. "I have a
feeling that's not why I'm here, anyway. Listen, Miles said you were
playing some Irish music for him last night. Could we listen to that?"

"Certainly. Computer, play Bashir 'Miles' music program two." The
light harp and soft cello began weaving their calming blanket over the
room.

"Do you think you'll be making more of an effort to build a
relationship with your mother again?" Keiko asked after a moment.

"I wouldn't know where to start. I'm not saying I won't, just that...I
haven't a clue. We can't continue the relationship we had before; that
died a very definite death the moment I entered Starfleet Medical. It
would need to be something new. Something I don't really know how to
do."

"When you came over the other day and sat with me while I fed Yoshi,
you asked how things were going, how I was feeling, that kind of
thing, and told me about your day and the things that are happening
with you. That's all it takes. It's true that...maybe you can't really
be Amsha's son, any more. Maybe losing each other as mother and son is
the price the two of you are paying for the genetic enhancement, that
you started paying almost since it was done. And trying to make up
past slights to each other would only wear both of you down. But you
can still be her friend, if you want to, when you feel ready. You
still love each other at least that much."

Julian was silent, staring into his glass. The music rolled softly
around the room. "I suppose you're right."

There was a pause, and Keiko started to hum with the music, then
quietly sing the words along with the cello's melody. "Oh, bonny
Portmore, I am sorry to see...such a woeful destruction of your
ornament tree...for it stood on your shore for many's the long
day...'til the longboats from Antrim came to float it away..." she
stopped. "Julian? Oh, Julian--here, come here--that's right. Let it
come. Let it out."

Curled against her, his head on her chest, Julian cried. He didn't do
it very well; he was quite out of practice, not having cried a tear in
years, but Keiko held him steady through the choked-out sobs that made
him jerk like a puppet. He couldn't seem to stop himself, he noted
distantly, though he was making a serious effort, despite Keiko's
coaxing words, instructions to cry, grieve, *feel*, feel again, in
ways he hadn't felt since he was a child.

It seemed to take a very long time, but finally he was spent. He lay
for a bit against her while she mopped his face with the hem of her
gown, stroked his hair, hummed softly to him over the harp and cello.

Finally, his head started to clear. He realized they were in a bit of
a compromising position--him half in her lap, head pillowed on her
small, soft breasts, her gown pulled up and halfway around him so she
could use it as a handkerchief on his face; this revealed her legs
nearly all the way up. Her body was warm and soft and strong, and he
devoutly did not want to move, but told himself that it was for that
very reason he'd better move, and quickly. He tensed in preparation to
sit up and pull away from her.

She wouldn't let go. He tried once more, then murmured "Um...Keiko..."

"I'll let you go if you promise me something," she whispered, and
kissed his forehead.

"Anything, right now."

"We go back in to bed and you let me hold you while we sleep. After
all, you let Miles."

He thought of his reservations, of the reason he'd bolted from the
bedroom to begin with. Then he thought how she knew all about it, and
still wanted to do this. 'Forget IQ points. Keiko is wiser than I'll
ever be. If she thinks it's right...'

"Yes," he sighed against her sodden chest. "But you'll want to change
your gown."

"I brought another one."

"You did? Why?"

"Probably because I have a baby who spits up like he's trying for
distance points. You start planning ahead automatically, with that
going on."

He smiled.

"Julian...there's something Miles wanted me to tell you."

"Something *else* he can't tell me himself?"

"He can--he said there hasn't really been a good time to mention it."

"A good time to mention it...since when?"

"Since he got back from the other universe."

Julian thought about sitting up, then decided to stay where he was;
she couldn't see his expression in this position. "What's it about?"

"The other Julian."

Julian was quiet a long moment. "What about him?"

"He and Miles got affectionate."

'Keiko...' "How affectionate?"

"As affectionate as it gets without actually being transported into
the same exact locus of space with someone."

Julian was silent a long moment. Finally he whispered "That's pretty
affectionate."

"He didn't know how to tell you. He said it felt wrong *not* to tell
you, but he didn't know how to bring it up, and he didn't want you to
think he was telling you because he was trying to...get that
affectionate with you, too."

"Well. They were married, over there."

"That's sort of the way I'm looking at it. I was married to someone
else in that universe. But that Julian had no way of knowing if he'd
ever get his Miles back, while over here, I knew almost since the
quantum jumps that our Jadzia could recreate the experiment..."

"I understand. I think."

"Don't worry about it. You don't need to even think about it if you
don't want to. That's what he said. He just didn't feel right not
telling you."

"When you see him in the morning, tell him I don't mind. It doesn't
bother me."

"He didn't think it would, really." Keiko kissed his ear. "I didn't
think it would, either."

---

"Show me again!"

"Right. Hold very still, now..." Julian performed the neat-handed
little maneuver Dax had taught him and once again removed a silver
poker chip from Molly's ear. "And there you are, sweetie."

She took the chip and tried again, but it was too large for her small
hands to have much hope of copying his prestidigitation. "Try this."
He showed her an exercise, once again learned from Dax, of rotating
the chip along the fingers, up and back, to limber them for the trick
and get them used to handling the chip in such fashion.

She paused to settle the long nightgown she wore more comfortably,
then went back to the exercise. "Aunt Nerys says you pulled latinum
out of Quark's ear once."

"And only once. I'd picked his pocket to get hold of it, you see.
After that, he was VERY cautious about letting me near his pockets
*or* his ears. Though I *was* hoping to somehow obtain a rabbit and
repeat the performance."

Molly giggled, which caused her to drop the chip. "Bollix."

Julian's eyes widened. "Um...I suppose you heard that word from your
dad."

"He says it when things break, sometimes, or he drops something."

"Well, it's got several meanings, so don't say it in front of him, or
your mother, or your aunt Nerys. You could get in a lot of trouble."

She nodded solemnly--uncle Julian was an ally, different from other
grownups, and his advice was valuable--and fished in the blanket for
the chip; finding it, she began the rotating exercise again. "What are
the other meanings?"

"The one that could get you sent to your room refers to a certain male
body part. Or parts."

"Oh, I get it, balls."

Julian snorted with merriment behind his hand. "Close enough."

Mystery solved, she immediately dismissed it and, still rotating the
chip along her fingers, she wondered "Uncle Julian...why did they send
your daddy to rehabil--rehabilitation? All he did was take you to the
doctor when you were sick."

Julian gulped. "Ahm. You see...I was sick in a way, but not sick
enough to warrant the treatment he had done to me."

"But WHY was it a bad thing to make you well? You make me well
sometimes."

"But I don't do to you what was done to me. What the doctor who
treated me did...it's illegal. Your parents told you about the
Eugenics Wars, didn't they?"

"But you were *sick*! Khan and his people weren't sick. And they tried
to take everything over. You wouldn't do that. You're nice."

"I'm glad you think so, sweetie, but...there's no way, really, to
predict who'll be nice and who won't. Plus, if it were legal, people
might feel they owed it to their children to have it done, whether
they were sick or not."

"Why?"

"So that...they'd be...well...better than they were before. I don't
mean healthier; I mean--more intelligent, stronger, faster, more
coordinated. They might feel they had to do it just so their children
could keep up with others who'd had it done."

"Then you're more intelligent and stronger and everything than anyone
else?"

"Not than anyone else, no. By the time they're...oh, about twice my
age, about a third of all Vulcans can do anything I can do in that
regard. And races like the Organians and the Q are much more powerful
and intelligent than I'll ever be."

"But you're better than other humans?"

"I really wouldn't use that word, but the way I take you to mean it,
yes. I am...more developed, in many areas, than other humans who
haven't been genetically enhanced."

"But then you *should* be in Starfleet. They should want you *more*.
And you should be a doctor, you saved Yoshi and Mommy says probably no
one else could have."

"That's a bit of an exaggeration...well. The reason that Starfleet
doesn't usually allow the genetically enhanced to serve in it is
because it wouldn't be fair to the other applicants and members."

"Why?"

"Well, take the Academy entrance exam. Someone who hadn't been
enhanced might have trouble with some of it, where I had none with any
part of it--but I might have if I hadn't been enhanced."

Molly still looked puzzled, staring at her hands as she shifted the
chip up and down her small fingers. "I know a Vulcan boy named
Sekaroth."

"I know him, too. His mother is a technician in the infirmary."

"He's seven, but he can pick me up and hold me over his head. I can't
do that with him."

"That's because he's Vulcan. They're stronger than we are."

"How is that different from you? If he applies to the Academy and they
give him the tests, won't he be stronger than a human anyway? And
people are all stronger or weaker than each other anyway, too. So why
does it matter that you've been enhanced?"

Oh, Lord. This could have been a LONG evening. Thank goodness they'd
be shutting the lights down for Molly's bedtime soon. He rearranged
himself against the pillow he was resting against and thought briefly.
"He'd have less trouble with the parts that involve strength and
endurance, some of the comprehension and basic knowledge, it's true,
but we do have some abilities Vulcans don't. We tolerate the cold far
better than they do; if their outlast was on a cold planet, a human
would have the advantage. We have broader senses of taste and smell;
we can identify dangerous plants and such more easily. Though it's
true, Vulcans do have a lot of advantages, and some tests and courses
are geared to be species-specific. But Vulcans are born with those
advantages. I wasn't. I'm...not natural." 'Whoa,' he thought. 'Bashir,
you're talking to a seven-year-old, never mind that she's...unusually
bright.'

"Why?"

"They didn't just...make me well, Molly. They made me better than
well."

"What's wrong with that? I like the way you are."

He smiled. "Thanks. That means a lot coming from you. But aside from
the legalities--my parents--my father--having that done to me meant
that it would never be legal for me to do a lot of things, like be in
Starfleet or practice medicine. An exception was made for me, in both
cases, because Fleet and the medical community both think I'm
well-adjusted and valuable to people doing what I'm doing. You see,
often, people may be enhanced by a doctor who isn't as good at it as
the one who enhanced me. Something goes wrong, and though
they're...improved in one or more ways, they may be injured in others.
Some people wind up worse off than before they were 'enhanced'.
Usually it affects their minds. Do you know what an idiot-savante is?"

Molly nodded. "A person who's real good at one thing but lousy at
anything else."

"Very impressive; that term isn't used in the medical community any
more and you knew it anyway. While the damage usually isn't that
extreme, it can come in any form--some that you'd never expect. So you
can still see there are reasons beyond fairness not to let it be done,
and not to allow people whose parents have had it done to them to hold
certain positions in society."

"But it was all so long ago. Why send your dad to rehab?"

"It was...part of a bargain my parents made. I wasn't consulted; I was
going to resign my commission and allow my medical liscences to be
revoked. But my parents...went to Captain Sisko without telling me,
and he called the Fleet Judge Advocate General, and he and my parents
spoke with Admiral Bennet. The Admiral couldn't do *nothing*, it
wouldn't be legal to do nothing at all, but he did as little as he
felt he could. My father will be in rehabilitation two years, and the
specific center he's at isn't a bad place, really. The only reason it
could be called bad is that you're not allowed to leave."

"It's stupid."

"No, it's only fair. There's no reason the law should make a
*complete* exception just for me or my father. It was actually very
grand of them to let me retain all my rights and status as a citizen,
an officer, a doctor."

"But you were SICK!"

"Come here, Molly." He held out his arms. She dropped the poker chip,
still pouting and unsatisfied with the illogic of it all, and crawled
across the bed to him, where she flopped against his chest in disgust
and he closed his arms around her. "I want you to listen to me for a
moment. All right?"

She nodded, squirming into a more comfortable position. He slid down
against his pillow a little to accommodate her and began "I wasn't
really sick at all. I was only...slow. I couldn't keep up with my
agemates, not physically or academically. I wasn't healed, so much
as...changed."

Molly frowned. "You weren't sick?"

"No. I wasn't. I just wasn't what my father wanted in a child, and
he...had me redone, as it were."

"What about your mother?"

"It wasn't her idea to begin with, but she went along with it."

Molly thought. Then she said "You can do that? If you don't like the
baby you have?"

"No, darling, that's the point. It's not legal to do that simply
because you aren't satisfied with your child. What if your dad--not
that he would EVER do this, he loves you more than his own life just
the way you are--wished that you...had been blonde, instead of
dark-haired. Born that way, like him, not cosmetically altered. And he
took you to a doctor and had an illegal procedure done on you that had
very real potential to harm you as well as to make the changes he
wanted. That wouldn't be a very nice thing to do, would it?"

Molly pondered. "I guess not."

"Well, that's what my dad did with me."

"Why didn't he like you?"

"As I said, he wished that I was smarter, and stronger. Smarter,
mostly. But he had everything enhanced. He had me made taller, as
someone has obviously mentioned to you. Faster and more graceful. He
had almost everything about me changed. My name was Jules, then. But
Jules...didn't come out of that hospital. I did. And I'm not that much
like Jules at all."

"Were you happier then?"

"Ahm...do you mean before or after the enhancements?"

"Either. When were you happier?"

Julian bit his lip. "I...Molly, I don't know. I was very young,
younger than you are now, and I didn't understand much of what was
happening. I knew my parents were disappointed in me, and that made me
unhappy. I knew I couldn't do things other children could do, and that
made me...not like myself as much as I might have. But my parents
didn't have me enhanced so that I'd be happier. They wanted a child
they could be proud of, and they didn't feel they could be proud of
me. Or--my father didn't feel he could be proud of me, and my mother
wanted my father to be happy more than she wanted to protect me. Oh, I
suppose--I suppose, being my mother, she was worried that she might
have done something while she was pregnant with me to harm me, or that
she was responsible in some other way. And she was sad that I was sad.
I *was* a sad child, I suppose. Happy...Julian is happier than Jules
was. But Jules might have been happier if his father had...respected
him for who he was. Instead of taking him off to some illegal
operation and having him turned into what he'd rather have had."

"That was mean. Are you mad at him?"

"Yes," Julian sighed, running his hand down her back, over her long
hair, in a repetitive catstroke. "I am, sweetie. I'm mad at him for
not loving me the way I was, and I'm mad at him for taking such a
chance with my life. So many chances, in different ways. But he's gone
to rehabilitation now in order to allow me to continue practicing
medicine and serving in Starfleet, and...I don't know how to feel. I
don't know if I should believe him--he says he had the enhancements
done for me, not for him--and maybe he really believes it. I don't
know."

"Maybe he did do it for you."

"Maybe he did. But my father...is nothing like yours. He lies a lot,
or perhaps I should say he exaggerates and lies by omission. He avoids
responsibility. The only thing he's ever devoted himself to for any
length of time is my mother, and that likely only because she loved
him and stayed with him herself as much as he stayed with her.
He's...unreliable. It's hard for me to believe he would have taken
such a great personal risk, and gone to such expense, purely and only
for my sake. Do you follow me?"

Molly nodded against his pajama shirt. "But you were his only child,
right?"

"That's right."

"Mommy says that people sometimes do crazy things for their kids.
Things they wouldn't ever do otherwise, like kill someone or break
laws."

Julian was silent a while, then whispered "She's right. That's very
true. Some people...will sometimes do that."

"Maybe that's why he did it," Molly suggested, then sort of reared up
a little and thrust her hand up his shirt.

He jerked upright with her in his lap. "Molly! How rude!"

"Bollix, Julian, I just wanted to feel your skin. Daddy says you have
skin like a baby's, but Yoshi's is softer than yours." She withdrew
her arm.

"Oh." Julian came down off red alert and settled back to the pillow
with her. "Um. Miles said that, did he?"

"Yeah."

"Mind if I ask under what circumstances?"

"Talking to Mommy a while ago."

"About five months ago, would that have been?"

Molly thought a minute. "A couple of nights ago, too, but yeah, the
first time was right after my birthday. Aunt Nerys was still living
with us...why did aunt Nerys move out, uncle Julian?"

"She's a very independent person. She stayed with you and your parents
to be nice to them, because she was carrying Yoshi, and so they could
help take care of her. Since she's Bajoran, some of the things I had
to do to keep Yoshi healthy didn't make her feel very well, and she
needed the help."

"I wish she'd come back."

"Don't you see her enough?"

"She's always busy. She's the first officer."

"That's right. She has a lot of responsibilities."

"So Nerys is a person who takes responsibility."

Julian paused. "Yes. She didn't have to take Yoshi into her womb, for
one thing, and carry him until he could live on his own, but she did,
even though it was uncomfortable for her."

"But your daddy isn't a person who takes responsibility, so he
couldn't have had you enhanced for you. He has to have done it for
him."

"Molly, what has your mother been saying to you?" He lifted her chin
with a finger to meet her eyes.

"She just said you were unhappy about your daddy. Would you be happier
if you knew why he had you enhanced?"

Julian sighed and let his head fall back. "I don't know. Maybe.
Probably not--I suppose it would depend on which 'why' it turned out
to be. For whose sake. But the important thing is...the truth's out,
I'm still practicing and in uniform--I don't suppose it matters why,
really, anymore, since it's done, and he *is* having to own up for
once, this time, for his actions." He sighed again, and squeezed her
close, burying his face in her hair.

"Are you happier now?"

Julian chuckled. "Yes. I believe I am. It's time to put the chips away
and turn the lights down, sweetie."

She scrambled to scoop up the scattered chips and put them back in the
poker set, take the set out to the front room and put it away, then
run back in and bounce back up on the bed. "Computer, half lights,"
she said, and the light level obligingly dropped.

She spooned up against his front and he wrapped her close. "Do you
want some music?"

"Play daddy's Irish music."

"Why did I suspect you were going to say that?"

---

"Yoshi, come *on*. You fell asleep thirty *seconds* ago," Julian
sighed, hauling his angular person up at the wavering cry that rose
from the monitored baby bed. "You're lucky I'm so scrupulous or I'd
have slipped something into your formula at your last feeding." He
pulled the sleeper-wrapped form of Kirayoshi out of the hooded bed and
performed a few perfunctory checks; dry, recently fed, nothing unusual
on the scanners, thoroughly burped...

He set Yoshi up against his shoulder, walking back out into the front
room with him, making the rounds of his quarters again. "Computer.
Play Bashir 'Miles' music program two, low volume." As the soft
strains sounded, Yoshi stopped kicking. He'd stopped crying as soon as
Julian picked him up.

"You know, Yoshi," Julian said, walking up and down, the small dark
head resting on the towel he'd had the presence of mind to toss over
his shoulder, "your mother is completely certifiable."

Yoshi gurgled.

"No. It's true. Why else would she have sent your birth mother over
here, with you and a request that I look after you tonight? Mama Nerys
agrees with me, by the way, judging by that vicious glare I received
when she enjoined me to stay alert." He changed direction and began
walking back around the quarters the other way.

"And mama Keiko is as paranoid a parent as any. But for some
reason--this has got to be what it is--she thinks your keeping me
awake all night is going to do me some kind of good. Miles, right.
Molly, fine. You? Your conversational skills are a bit limited, pet,
not to be insulting. You're quite good at eating and crying and
growing and developing and fouling your drawers, which is pretty much
all one could expect from you as yet."

Yoshi snorked.

"What's that? No, I haven't any idea what it could be. Since you can't
talk, I mean. But your mother thinks I need people around me who care
about me. I suppose you might fall into that category, since you do
seem to recognize me when you see me. And the other night wasn't the
first time Miles has insisted you can tell when I'm around. But
really. Emotional support from a six-week-old baby isn't something I'm
daft enough to expect."

He began dancing a slowed, slightly tamer version of the Sessanata,
circling the living room set as he and Keiko had done. "Next she'll be
shoving Nerys in here. At least I can count on the major to tell Keiko
to forget the idea. Kira? In bed with *me*? I think not. What do you
think?" He held Yoshi up, careful of the little head that lolled to
the side at the motion. Seeing Julian's face, Yoshi's eyes tried very
hard to focus, and both baby arms flailed before him in the air.

"Ah. You do know who I am, don't you, master Yoshi. You dance
divinely, by the way. Must get it from your mother. Keiko, I mean. I
suppose you'll be calling your birth mother aunt Nerys, like your
sister does. I'll call her that too, then." He set Yoshi back against
his towel-covered shoulder and continued moving in slow, steady,
Sessanata circles.

"You know, it's no wonder your father's been looking so haggard
lately...incidentally, he didn't expect you to come along so soon. He
thought he and your mother would have to try for months to bring you
about, but as soon as they had their sterility reversed, boom, there
you were. Made our mister Worf very nervous. He delivered your sister.
I can just imagine Keiko in labor. Definitely enough to scare the
daylights out of a Klingon. Particularly that unbelievable stuffed
shirt of a Klingon. Have you met Worf yet, pet? You'll know him by the
fact that he never smiles. And he looks like his head's been run over
by some kind of primitive ground vehicle. I wonder what he'd do if you
ran this I'll-only-sleep-if-you're-holding-me routine with *him*."

Yoshi made a querulous sound.

"No, you can't sleep in my bed with me, it's not really safe. You're
very small yet. I could roll over on you, or push you out onto the
floor in my sleep, or you could wind up under the covers and
suffocate...just imagine what your father would say if I brought you
home dead or something. Probably be on my neck for *days* about it.
Such a picky fellow, your father is. We won't even *talk* about what
your mother would say. Wouldn't have me to dinner for weeks, I
shouldn't wonder."

He twirled slowly back toward the bedroom and through the door. "We'll
compromise. I'll hold you for a while as you sleep, and when I put you
down I'll have moved your bed over next to mine. Does that sound
agreeable? Good. We have a deal then. Sleeping yet? You're awfully
quiet." He carefully swung Yoshi down; the baby did indeed appear to
be unconscious, but by this time Julian knew what a facade that could
easily be if one leapt to conclusions.

"My, but you're a perfect little thing," Julian smiled, climbing
carefully back into bed, baby ashoulder. "Tiny and perfect. Like the
furnishings in that dollhouse your father built for your sister. I'm
not surprised if she hasn't shown them to you yet, you'd probably try
to eat them. Might put her out a bit. But you're not the first baby
I've looked after, of course, so you'd think I'd be used to it by now.
I'm not. I'm always amazed. Computer, night lights." Most of the
illumination was damped except for a faint glow near the floor and the
med monitor lights on Yoshi's bed. Julian was quiet a few moments.

Yoshi squirmed.

"I know, I know. You like listening to me. Very well, I'll keep
talking." Julian was actually speaking very softly, only in the lowest
registers of his warm baritone voice. "What shall we chat about,
master Yoshi? Are there any stories you particularly like? What? Oh,
right, sorry. I seem to be the only one besides Kira whose voice has
this effect on you. No surprise there, of course; babies always know
their birth mother's voice. Mine I've got no explanation for, but I
don't suppose it matters. What does aunt Nerys say to you? Parables,
you say. Especially the one about the kava root farmers. Well, I don't
tell that one as well as she does, but perhaps we can come up with
something else you'll like.

"Once upon a time...there was a book. A great book. A stupendous book
that contained all kinds of secrets and knowledge about healing the
sick, even raising the dead. And there was a young man, not much more
than a boy really, who was determined to learn this book, every word
of it, remember it all, because he wanted to be a healer.

"And he didn't want to be just any healer. He wanted to be a fearless,
daring, beloved, *famous* healer. He wasn't going to do this thing by
halves, no indeed not, he would be the best there was. Or at least,
such was his goal. (He *was* a bit naive, this young man, before you
ask.)

"While still very young, as I said, this fellow procured a copy of the
book. Actually, he stole it. The young man's father worked for a time
in a large medical complex on Earth, and by chance this boy happened
on a copy of the book, on a padd, lying on a desk. Well, he couldn't
let an opportunity like *that* go by, no, certainly not. So he nicked
the padd and jammed it up his shirt. Which was very uncomfortable, by
the way. It was rather chilly that part of Earth, and this particular
padd was made of a metallic substance of some kind.

"Oh, and if you're wondering why this fellow didn't simply get the
book from Earth's computer library, the answer was that his family had
no link at the time, and he couldn't use public links for that he'd
take too much time at them; he had to be able to read until he knew
the whole book, at night, mostly, since he was fairly certain his
parents wouldn't approve, for reasons I'll explain in a moment.
Besides which, the family moved around quite a bit. The boy's father
had a tendency to be dropped by his employers for various infractions,
which meant the boy's family usually lived at the subsistence level.
Which is all well and good, everything you really need, but not always
everything you want, not even on Earth, and they weren't always on
Earth.

"Well. Soon the boy was spending hours every night with the book--it
was called "Starfleet Physician's Desk Reference", by the way--and
before a year had gone by, he knew the whole thing, gigantic a tome
though it was. This was no ordinary boy, you see. He was human, but he
had the intellectual capabilities of a particularly brilliant Vulcan,
at the very least. He didn't understand large parts of the book--he
was missing knowledge, intermediate knowledge that would make the
book's knowledge complete in his head. But he had every word and chart
and graph and illustration memorized, even if he didn't understand
fully what a great deal of it meant. Especially the parts about
nonhuman species, at least those farthest out.

"So I--I mean the young man--became determined to acquire that
intermediate knowledge so the entire book would make sense to him, but
he knew he'd never learn it in school, oh no. He attended public
education classes wherever the family happened to be at the time, and
although he could have learned the basic Earth curriculum inside a few
years--that curriculum's taught almost everywhere in the
Federation--the boy's father forbade him to do this, said he needed
the experience and exposure to those wiser than he. Later, the boy
found out it was because it would have given away the fact that he was
Not Natural. No, his parents had had him tuned up to A-460, as it
were. So the boy remained with his agemates, bored to tears, always at
the top of his class but never allowed to skip the blasted folderol
and get to the real meat of subjects. He had to take algebra, for
example. This particular boy, once he learned what all the symbols
meant, could have written algebra texts by the time he was twelve.
Talk about frustrated. This poor fellow defined the term.

"And this went on until the boy reached his majority. With his
ability, he could have enrolled in the Academy--which is where he
wanted to go--in his early teens, but not without his guardian's
permission. His father said intelligence could not possibly equal
experience, and his mother was worried for him and wanted to keep him
with her as long as she could. But when he came of age, according to
his forged birth documentation, he took two things with him--a teddy
bear named Kukalaka, and the padd that held the great book, the two of
whom had been his finest companions, in their own ways, for years. And
he went to the Academy, and passed all the tests easily, and was
admitted to the medical program.

"Well, now. With no one to rein him in, this young man shot through
his courses like a comet. A figurative comet, I mean. It was far more
difficult than any schooling he'd ever encountered, but he still
managed to get through his first year of basic physiology in a little
over five months. That's one of the things he'd been anticipating
about the Academy; there isn't any classtime requirement in any given
course, provided one can pass a series of particularly stiff tests to
prove one really doesn't need it. Needless to say, this boy could, and
he did. He was through basic physiology, a four-year curriculum, in
less than two years, and was hailed as a prodigy by those of his
teachers and advisors that didn't resent the hell out of him.

"This sort of thing was brought to an abrupt halt one day, though. The
boy, you see, now had most of the intermediate biological and
physiological knowledge he needed to understand the great book. He
fancied himself quite ready for any situation that might arise--he was
ready, he thought, to practice, though he was quite willing--and felt
very righteous about it--to go through the motions of apprenticeship,
which in those days included specialized training and serving in
hospitals in various capacities, under the supervision of more
experienced healers."

Julian paused in his recitation, and considered the sleeping baby on
his shoulder. "You know, master Yoshi, I really could have picked a
happier story. I thought this was going to be about the great book and
how much it meant to the young man. I think it's going to turn out to
be about something entirely different, though. Hope that's all right?
It is? Thank you ever so much, don't mean to disappoint you, you
know." After saying this, he was quiet a moment, but not so long as to
risk Yoshi noticing the absence of his auditory and tactile sedative.

He hummed quietly with the music as he got up carefully and picked the
baby bed up by the hood with one hand, moving it next to the bed,
setting it down, and sitting back down himself. He thought again, then
continued.

"I think I'd better try to make this short, Yoshi, if you don't mind;
or I'll be awake all night whether you sleep or not. Where were we?
Oh, yes. The thing that happened that made the very first, most
important difference to the young man who wanted to be a healer.

"One day, this...this young fellow was out with a few friends, people
only a little older than he was, who admired him greatly for his
scholastic achievements. He'd helped each and every one of them over
difficult places in their own educations, and in their company he felt
very much the wise and competent healer. Not that he didn't usually
feel that way. But adulation always blows that sort of thing up even
bigger.

"So they all decided on an outing in the park. Three of them had just
passed their term finals and were in the mood to celebrate in some
way. And celebrate they did--they were all over that park like a horde
of crazed Jem'Hadar. Only they were much friendlier. Anyway, they were
resting from a game of photon bomb--the young man didn't need to rest,
but he very generously didn't throw that in his friend's faces--in a
meadow surrounded by young sapling trees, that held a broad pool that
was fed by a stream. And there they were, lying around in the grass,
when they heard a scream.

"The young man jumped up at once--he knew just which direction the
scream had come from, and from how far. It had come from the water's
edge, and he ran as fast as his legs would carry him--nearly thirty
kilometers per hour, incidentally, and he forgot to slow down for that
there were people about--until he saw a very distraught boy by the
water, staring into it, hanging onto a tree that grew just at the
waterside. He ran up and asked the boy what was wrong, and the boy
pointed into the water.

"Someone was caught in the tree's roots beneath the water, a biped, a
humanoid, who wasn't moving at all. Without thinking, the young man
jumped in and dove, pulled the person out of the roots, which didn't
seem to be wrapped around the person enough for entrapment, then
kicked them both back up to the surface.

"The young man's friends were waiting by the water. They caught hold
of the person who'd been held by the tree roots and then pulled the
young man out, too. He was horrified to see that the person was a
young Vulcan woman. She was dressed in a bathing suit, but the young
man knew that Vulcans were desert dwellers from a planet with free
surface water over about only two percent of it, and that they didn't
swim well, especially in cold water, as filled the pool.

"Well, all that knowledge rushed to the fore. He knew exactly what he
had to do to resuscitate her, and he began at once. To his amazement,
he heard incredibly shallow breathing when he listened at her airway;
he also heard the bubbling that meant water in the lungs, and his
first priority became getting her conscious and getting that water
out. Water in the lungs is even more dangerous for Vulcans than it is
for humans; he knew that much from the book, and he set about all the
resuscitative methods that he knew for Vulcans which didn't require
medical equipment, and he knew a great many.

"He could find no pulse, and one of the things he tried was
old-fashioned CPR. It would beat her heart for her as well as,
hopefully, drive the water out of the deepest pockets of her lungs and
up where she could cough it out. It's hard to give CPR to Vulcans
because of the way their insides are arranged, but he knew how, from
the book and his courses. While he went about this, two of his friends
ran for the nearest public comm to get help.

"Finally he found a pulse, and he and his friends were very relieved.
The young Vulcan began to cough, and he turned her on her side so she
could cough up the water. She did, and opened her eyes. She looked up
at the young man.

"In her face he saw a look of terror that he never thought he would
see on any Vulcan. He tried to reassure her, tell her she'd be all
right now, just a day or two at the hospital to make sure she
recovered completely, since immersion in cold water is dangerous for
Vulcans and immersion to the degree of near drowning easily fatal--but
she just stared at him. Then he realized she'd stopped breathing. And
he lost the pulse. But her eyes continued to stare at him.

"The paramedics arrived. Now, the young man knew *far* more about what
he was doing than anyone at a paramedic level of training, and when
one of them demanded to know what he'd done, he told the woman with
some asperity. She looked at him oddly, and said this to him.

"'This woman was in shock. Vulcans enter a healing trance in that
state, and it's a very delicate balance. By forcing her to
consciousness, you disturbed that balance, and the shock killed her.'

"The young man...well, he fainted. When he came around, two of his
friends were with him in the emergency vehicle and the paramedics were
using a cortical stimulator on the Vulcan, getting her onto support.
Within ten minutes, they were at the hospital. You'll be happy to know
that the Vulcan woman survived; there were two doctors at the hospital
who had interned on Vulcan, and they were successful at reviving her
and easing her into the healing trance naturally. The young man
couldn't believe that all he'd needed to do was pull her out of the
water and let her be until they could get her to the hospital. Surely
the book would have known something like that, and it DID say that
that sort of immersion was often fatal for Vulcans, especially with
unconsciousness and aspirated water. But apparently the book didn't
know everything. Vulcans are very private people; we still know very
little about them; but the paramedic had known, because she'd been
working for fourteen years, and so she knew, about emergency medicine,
things the book's writers had never had the opportunity to find out.
Nor had the young man."

"That evening the young man called his father and mother and told them
the whole story. His mother commiserated with him and cried over his
anguish. And his father said 'Jules, in all my life, I've never been
so sorry to be right.'

"And the young man very conscientiously served every hour of the usual
training, wrote every paper, took every class, and listened *very*
closely to what his teachers, and other more experienced physicians,
had to say. He did extremely well. But it was a long
time--years--before he took himself, or the book, for granted that way
again. Though it did happen again. More than once. But that's another
tale altogether."

Julian sighed. "And that's the story of how Julian Bashir became far
less overeager and impatient, though most people here wouldn't believe
I could have been more so before I arrived here. Your father, for
example.

"Not too long after that occurrence, I started telling myself it
wasn't my fault, I couldn't have been expected to know better, and in
a way that's true. But when you're a doctor, you're responsible. It's
your job to know, whether there's any way for you to know or
not...Yoshi?"

Julian would have sworn the baby snored.

"Ah. Time for bed, then." Ever-so-carefully, he returned Yoshi to his
bed, laid a hand on the little back, and murmured "Don't worry, Yoshi.
I'm still here. Right here beside you."

The baby didn't stir, and Julian laid down in his own bed, and he
didn't stir, either, though he was awake for a while at first.

---

"Oh, thank God. When the signal sounded I was terrified you'd turn out
to be Kira."

"Not hardly. She may like you well enough these days, but not even
Keiko would try to get her in bed with you. Have a good time with
Yoshi?"

"Stellar. He's got a real possibility of a future in dancing. Now I
know why you've been looking like you do lately."

Miles snorted and walked past Julian, letting the door close behind
him. Julian turned and followed him in. Miles observed cheerfully
"Nerys said you looked quite a fright when she picked Yoshi up this
morning."

"I felt quite a fright as well. Was Molly like that?"

"No, actually. She was a very thoughtful baby. I don't mean she let us
sleep more than your average baby, I mean she was occupied with her
own thoughts. Didn't need as much attention."

"That does sound like her."

"Yoshi, now." Miles plopped onto the sofa, setting his tool kit down
on the floor. Julian sat next to him. Miles continued "The first
night's sleep I got straight through in weeks was a few days ago, here
with you."

"Ah. So when Keiko called for volunteers, your hand was first up in
the air."

"Something like that. Nerys is over, too; I think they're planning a
girl's night."

"You came straight from work."

"Keiko said to."

"Pretty determined to have a girl's night. She must've called the
infirmary to find out when I'd gone. I'm there quite late sometimes.
Does she plan to rotate your entire family through my bedroom until I
go to her and tell her *my* demons are all exorcised?"

"Doubt it. For one thing, she wouldn't take you at your word about
that. Onto you, she is. I think she'll have her own ways of deciding
you'll be all right of evenings."

"It's not as though I don't see people. I see Garak, my coworkers, Dax
almost every day, and et cetera."

"She knows that. What she's worried about is the ghoulies and ghosties
and long-leggedy beasties coming for you about bedtime when you call
the lights down. Since we've found that with you, beasties have a way
of sticking around under the sheets 'til the next day and beyond, she
wants someone here to defuse them."

"Things that go 'Jules' in the night."

"Right. But it's early to worry about them yet. Had supper?"

"No, and I'm starved, I skipped lunch." "Take it you were busy with
the visiting doctor that showed up--what, yesterday? No, day before. I
sent Terenton to reset the environmentals in some guest quarters
earlier this week."

"Yes, actually. We forgot to eat, not that that affects Vulcans much."
Julian got up and headed for the replicator. "Up for some middling-hot
Indian?"

"Just leave me my head. I'll need it at work tomorrow."

"Don't worry. You know I don't like Indian hot enough to detonate my
skull, either." Julian began scrolling the menu and making appropriate
requests to the computer.

"Being around Vulcans...must be sort of a mixed blessing for you, I'd
imagine."

Julian paused, blinking, then said "Yes, I guess it is. Particularly
Vulcan healers. I can move along as quickly as I want to and they not
only keep up, they lead me at times."

"But your boyish, eager-yet-debonair charm has no impact on them. Must
be frustrating."

"Sometimes. I worked hard getting that persona together, and it's
served me well for years. No one's ever suspected me. But I *do* stick
my foot in my mouth every ten minutes or so, by Vulcan standards, the
reflex is so powerful. Today wasn't much of a problem, though. I was
too tired to worry about being charming. All right, here we go..." he
started unloading the replicator, and Miles came to help move things
to the table.

"One half-sleepless night and my 'superhuman' best friend is too tired
to worry about charming the socks off a pretty Vulcan doctor?"

"He's married, and not really my type."

"Oops. Saw you with a Vulcan woman earlier today, and thought that
must've been the visiting doctor, since I didn't recognize her."

"That was T'Aen, his wife. She's an athlete--a swimmer, actually."

As they started in on dinner, Miles said "A Vulcan swimmer?"

"She's one of the best in her event."

"Then you two had something in common. You seemed to be getting on
well, certainly. I swear I saw her smile at you."

"She did." Julian paused, as though about to say something else, then
continued eating.

"Then I guess your charm isn't totally useless on Vulcans after all."

"It wasn't that. We've met before. When I was at Starfleet Medical.
She was on Earth for a distance-swimming competition, the only Vulcan
ever to enter that particular event. Had to back out, unfortunately,
that time. She wasn't used to the cold water--competed in warmer
climes, always before." They quietly shoveled in food for a few
minutes.

"By the way," Julian said, paused for a sip of water to cool his mouth
a little, and continued "You might want to watch out for who might be
listening when you make remarks to Keiko about...certain things."

"Hm? What things?"

"Molly shoved her hand up my shirt in bed the other night."

"WHAT?"

"Turned out she was checking to see if my skin really *was* as soft as
a baby's."

Miles sat there a minute, then closed his eyes and raised a hand to
his forehead. "Oh bloody. My fault, right. Still...for a moment,
there, I thought I was going to have to kill you."

"Molly's quite discreet for her age, but if that had got--"

"--back to Nerys, *I'd* be a dead man. I keep forgetting Molly's not a
baby, and she understands almost all of what she hears. I've *got* to
remember to keep my voice down, even when she's supposedly sleeping."

"Especially then. Children know that that's when they stand to pick up
some of the juiciest tidbits of information. The adults are so
relieved to be able, as they suppose, to talk freely...I hope you
didn't say anything in that conversation that let Molly know just what
brought the texture of my skin to your attention."

"No, I think we were talking about...oh, yes. Keiko was alerting me
that the air in our quarters was so dry Nerys was peeling in some
delicate spots. Remember that rash she had? Wait, forget I said that.
Anyway, Keiko wanted me to adjust the humidification. It came up
somewhere in there. Damn. I thought you didn't like it this hot."

"This isn't that hot."

"Says you." Another few quiet minutes passed while they continued
demolishing the comestibles. Being starved, Julian got done first and
started swishing water around in his mouth to get the caustic
chemicals out of his gums.

"I always wondered if you do that when you're on dates. It might
explain a few things."

Julian swallowed. "No, only alone or around you. Not Garak, even."

"I feel privileged."

"Here, I'll privilege you again." Julian slurped more water.

"Gods. I'm losing my appetite."

Julian swallowed again. "Sorry." He grinned.

"Nah yer not."

"I'll just go line up my notes for tomorrow's stint with healer
Sekhelt while you finish. Wouldn't want to upset your digestion."

"Have at it, by all means."

In only a few minutes, Miles was piling everything into the replicator
and hitting the reclamation key, then wandering over to Julian's desk.
"Healer Sekhelt running you a good race?"

"Oh, it's nothing like that. I've enjoyed working with him. He's a
hematocritic specialist with the Vulcan Medical Institute, Shana'khar,
and I'm general xenosurgery. There's plenty I can learn from him, and
he's quite interested in the hematological information we have here on
gamma quadrant species."

"So it's a mutual admiration society?"

Julian smiled up at Miles. "Yes, but a lot more civilized than the one
you and I have."

Miles turned pink. Julian laughed quietly and turned back to the
terminal, closing his work. He stood up. "Give me your hands and stand
like so." He demonstrated.

Miles stared. "What?"

"I'm going to teach you how to dance with your wife. It's the least I
can do for her after all she's done for me. We'll start with something
easy."

"You aren't serious."

"I can probably teach you better than she can, I'm big enough to
direct your movements. And catch you if you trip, without getting
crushed."

"Who's going to catch you?"

"*You'd* better at least try, since it would probably be on your
account if I tripped."

"I don't believe I'm doing this," Miles muttered, approaching Julian
cautiously. "Lock the door. Stand how?"

"Computer, lock. Here. This hand here, this one here. Has Keiko tried
to teach you the Sessanata?"

"Yes, and maybe you can lift me fifty times in one dance, but Keiko
can't, and I could only maybe get you into the air two or three times
anyway."

"You won't need to. We'll sort of mime it. Computer, play Keiko
Sessanata."

---

"How is it?"

"Throbbing."

"Why don't we just get you to the infirmary?"

"Because I've injected myself with anti-inflammatory and painkiller,
and healed the worst vascular ruptures. I'll be fine in just a while,
when it all starts taking effect. Having my feet stepped on, I was
rather expecting. Having my *leg* stepped on...I'm impressed, chief.
But at least you can do the Sessanata and the Anadan without killing
Keiko."

"I told you I was no better than a pretender at dancing. I do on
occasion seriously try, but only for Keiko."

"It was for her this time too, and you're better at it now. I'd
appreciate it if you'd demonstrate it to Keiko as soon as is
practical."

"So I'm your thank-you note to her?"

Julian grinned. "Sort of."

"Want an ice pack?"

Julian chuckled. "No. Really, the tarsal was barely cracked,
microscopic, and I know what not to do to aggravate it. No need even
for osteoregeneration. I'll just step carefully for a couple of days."

"More carefully than I stepped, at least."

"The whole thing was my idea. It's all right."

"Not what you said when you were calling me--what was the sixth one,
the one about the water buffalo--"

"Pain *can* make one snappish. Please forget I said those things,
though I must admire your ability to have counted them, fast as they
were coming. Couldn't have done it myself."

"Computer--"

Julian cut in, shifting his bare shoulders against the pillow, "--play
Bashir 'Miles' music program two."

"How'd you know--"

"It seems to be integral."

"To what?"

"Never mind. Painkiller's kicking in. Oh, much better."

"You look a bit out of it."

"I'm all right. I could have used a local, but I figured I wasn't
going anywhere the rest of this evening anyway, unless you felt like
carrying me."

"Take that up with my back."

"I'd rather just forget I said it. The mental image is unfortunate."

Miles cracked up. "See what you mean." Then he got up from Julian's
side and went around to the other side of the bed and sat down, up
against the headboard. "Feeling any more at home with yourself since
your parents left?"

"Yes, actually, I am. I initially agreed to lose half my bedspace
every night to humor Keiko, but as usual, she was right and I was an
idiot."

"I know *that* feeling. She told me you seemed to have some kind of
breakthrough the night she stayed."

"And she said it for the same reason I used that word to you on Mars.
I dumped an enormous piece of baggage--concerning my mother, in my
case--and burst into tears."

"Explains why her linen gown looked like a dishrag when she brought it
home." He noncommittally laid his hand on Julian's shoulder. "It was a
help, then?"

"It was. More of one than I'd thought possible."

"Molly says you're not as wrought up inside about your father now. I
didn't know whether to believe *that*."

"Believe it. She used Socratic argument like a master until I realized
I was worrying about all the wrong things."

"Well. You're only human."

Julian smiled. "True enough." His eyes kept closing. 'Shouldn't have
gone so heavy on that painkiller,' he thought. 'With no more sleep
than I got last night...'

He woke in near darkness some time later. The harp and cello were
still playing, but more quietly. He felt warm and light again, and
wondered if it was the drugs. 'No,' he thought. 'Last time I felt like
this I wasn't drugged. I was...lying on Miles. That's why my pillow's
got a heartbeat.'

Miles was stroking his hair lightly. Julian wished he knew how to
purr. "I rolled over on you?" 'Thank you, subconscious, for getting me
here.' He slid his right arm farther around Miles's body.

The chief's voice was a soft rumble against Julian's left ear where it
rested on Miles's chest. Julian began to see what Yoshi saw in this
kind of thing. Miles was saying "No. I rolled you over on me. After I
got out of my uniform, when I realized you were asleep."

"Mm...how long *have* I been asleep?"

"A couple of hours."

Julian raised his head. "And you've just been...here, all that time?"

Miles shrugged slightly. "Couldn't leave you, now, could I? Or I
wouldn't be here to begin with. I'd've slept, but it's only now
getting on time. I didn't have a hypo full of painkiller, remember?"

"Oh." He sank down against Miles again. Inside his comfort and
contentment, there was something else; an anticipatory thrumming...an
impetus to press even closer than they already were. He felt his heart
rate increase ever so slightly.

"How's the ankle?" Miles let his stroking hand slide down off Julian's
hair onto his back, where he began tracing light, swirling patterns.
Julian started to breathe faster as gooseflesh rose across him.

He focused himself a little and tried flexing the joint. "Stiff. It
doesn't hurt, though. Might wrap it in the morning, but I doubt I'll
need to."

"Good." Miles lifted his left hand from the arm Julian had across him
and traced the younger man's cheekbone, ear, and jaw with a fingertip.
Julian inhaled suddenly, closing his eyes, feeling even warmer and
lighter than before. As Miles gently lifted Julian's head and kissed
him, Julian's hands came up and closed on Miles's shoulders to pull
himself up closer. 'Miles, this feels *perfect*...'

Julian lifted himself a little more, pressing them close all along his
body's length. "How did you know?" he whispered against Miles's ear.
"*I* didn't even know."

"For one thing, I'm not as clueless as you were with me. And for
another, I didn't know for a certainty. But I wanted to do that so
much...I gambled on instinct."

"I'm very glad you did." Then they were kissing again, mouths opening
against each other. Miles's underwear was pitched overboard easily
enough; but Julian's pajamas took just a moment more of work. Miles
actually growled, fighting a suddenly uncooperative drawstring knot,
and Julian had to be careful not to knock his ankle against anything
while kicking out of the pants.

Once clear of them, Julian threw his right leg and arm back across
Miles, who grasped him at the waist and pulled their bodies into
abrupt and welcome contact. His arms went around Julian again,
tightly; Julian, sliding his arms under Miles's shoulders as the
pressure of their kissing built, could sympathize. At this moment, he
didn't think it was possible to get close enough to Miles. More
quickly than he would have thought possible seconds ago, their
caresses had gone from gentle to firm to urgent, and Julian was
pushing and rocking his hips against Miles, feeling Miles arching back
to meet the pressure. Miles's fingers were digging into his back; they
slid down to his hips and clasped him there, and their erections
brushed, and their current kiss broke as Julian shivered and moaned,
in a deep and electric spasm that almost cost him his balance. Not
that he could have fallen; Miles was holding him too tight.

They were grappling as much as embracing by the time Miles managed to
roll Julian over and get on top of him, fervently kissing his way down
Julian's throat and chest. Julian managed to slow the spinning of his
head just in time to grab Miles and drag him back up by the shoulders.
If he'd allowed Miles to reach the goal he was obviously heading for,
he'd never have had the strength to interrupt him, and he
wanted..."Not yet," he murmured hoarsely. "Both of us. Both at once,
at first."

Miles didn't bother replying, just fastened his mouth back on Julian's
as they managed, blind, to arrange themselves so they could both get a
hand between their rapidly overheating bodies. Miles seemed to
remember absolutely everything of what he'd learned of Julian's
preferences the last time they'd done this, and Julian was glad of his
own recall ability; the only drawback was that they were, at least the
first time, going to be done awfully quick.

Less than a minute later, they were collapsed in a boneless tangle,
both of them.

"Sort of a mess," Miles observed, panting.

"Bit early to change the sheets though, I'd say."

"Oh, definitely."

"Thank God I've got a real bed."

"Took you long enough. I think you enjoyed complaining about the
Cardassian one."

"Not anything like as much as I'm enjoying this," Julian pointed out,
disentangling himself just enough to be able to reach Miles's mouth
with his own. "Worth it."

When he could talk again, Miles smiled and said quietly, with
inflection that turned the words from a sarcastic comment to a genuine
expression, "Glad you think so."

"Do you suppose Keiko knows already what we're doing?"

"The woman forbade me to come home tonight. If she doesn't know, she
at least hopes."

"That was the impression I had as well. Do you think she got the
idea...from your experience with that other Julian?"

"Maybe. But at this moment I'm not thinking about anyone but you. He
was bloody nearly you; not quite." Miles kissed him again. "I think I
know what criterion Keiko's going to use to figure whether you're
going to be all right alone."

Julian smiled. "The size of the grin on my face tomorrow?"

"Something like that."

---

"Augh! Damn it, I *knew* this was a lousy idea! Why did I let her talk
me into this?"

"For the adventure," Julian grinned as Kira's parachute crumpled
across a tree. "Let me take a look at that ankle."

"It's not the parachuting I mind so much--ouch, be careful!--it's this
damn harness. The airplanes are great, if loud. The dogfights I can
take or leave. But this harness is jerking on some sensitive places."

"I know what you mean. It's the price we pay for our reckless heroism.
Miles will be landing any time now...does this hurt?"

"Ouch. Yes, but not bad. I think we can pull the boot off. Well, you
pull the boot off, I'm getting out of this contraption." Kira pulled
her goggles up onto her head and started unbuckling her parachute
while Julian slid her boot off and checked her stockinged ankle more
closely.

"You've strained it a bit, I think, but you're right, it's not
serious. We'll go down to the infirmary for an anti-inflammatory
anyway, though, and then it shouldn't bother you at all. Here comes
Miles." They squinted into the artificial distance, watching Miles's
plane. "He's making to land in that field."

"Why?"

"To pick us up, of course."

"We're behind enemy lines! Now the enemy will have a shot at him and
his plane both!"

"He's not going to leave us here. World War One fighter pilots were
gentlemen, not guerrillas."

"Maybe they could afford to be." Kira pulled her boot carefully back
on. Julian was already out of his 'chute and gave her a hand standing
up. She tested her weight on the ankle and said "Miles should have
headed for home when he lost his gunner."

"And perhaps we shouldn't have been quite as enthusiastic as we were,
either. But admit it, Major. You were having fun."

"Sure I was, until we got our tail shot off. I can't imagine why Keiko
wanted me to do this with you."

"I can."

"Really? Why, then?"

"Continuity."

"What?"

"Never mind. Here he is; I'll carry you."

"...if you must."

"No time to spend hobbling. And...*up* we go!"

Kira grabbed hold around his shoulders and said "And you two do this
for *fun*. War is a serious business, damn it."

"It doesn't pay to take anything too seriously, major. Especially
yourself."

"It's not *me* I take so seriously, it's *war*. This is all so
frivolous."

"Yes, I suppose it is. That'll likely be your opinion of holosuites to
your dying day. But for one afternoon...cast off your concerns and
enjoy yourself. Miles and I promise not to tell anyone."

Kira was quiet a moment as Julian tramped through the holoweeds with
her in his arms. Then she said "All right. One afternoon. Let's get
back to the airfield, get another plane and kick some Gerry butt."

"We *could* take a break and see to your ankle..."

"The hell with it, I don't shoot with my ankle. A one-legged gunner is
better than none at all. Let's get us another plane and go!"

"By all means," Julian laughed. "Miles! It's her ankle! It isn't bad,
but she'll need a hand up!"

"Land on a rock, Major?" Miles shouted as he hung himself out of the
cockpit to grab her arms when Julian boosted her.

"Forget what I said, just call me Nerys! We're comrades in arms!"

Miles grinned. "Right you are, Nerys! There you go, up into the
gunner's 'pit...hop in, Julian, let's get back across the channel
before they spot us down here!"

"On my way!" Julian climbed up on the wing and into the gunner's seat.
"Stiff upper lip, Nerys! We'll be home in a trice!"

"Easy for you to say, it's not your ankle here we goooOOOO...!"

As they cleared the treetops, Julian held Nerys's hands and steadied
her so she'd have a view without falling out to join it. "You two are
crazy!" she was laughing.

"Only for our beloved homeland!" Julian cried back, in character.
"Don't worry! We'll find the Gerry blighter that did for our noble
Fandango!"

"Just get me in range, pilot--I'll blow him back to whatever hell
spawned him!"

"THAT'S the spirit!" They actually hugged, still laughing, hearing
Miles laughing behind them. "Nerys!"

"What?"

"Do you like Irish music?"

"What?!"

---

The End