Together they left the building, and as the human walked unnaturally silently and reservedly beside Garak through the streets, the Cardassian almost kicked himself in frustration as an odd sense of completeness bathed him. He wondered whatever in the entirety of the population of Cardassia had possessed him to invite this quiet, blooded, fire-tempered, steel stranger to his home. Though it was true that he had the necessary communications equipment as well as the cleaning facilities there, he also had them at the Great Building. He certainly didn't need to torture himself by bringing the human he still loved - damn it all to hell, as the humans said - to his home . . . his sanctuary. "Doctor Bashir!" A young voice called from behind them, and Garak watched as Julian turned, then knelt on the ground as a child, who couldn't have been any more than seven, ran up to them. "What is it, Kalen." Julian's voice and his eyes softened, and Garak almost wept as it reminded him of his Julian . . . the Julian that thankfully, obviously, still lived somewhere in the harsh man who had come to him almost three weeks before. "Jaris said he saw you leaving!" The child exclaimed, obviously upset. "He said you'd lied and were abandoning us just like everyone else has! It's not true, is it!? Are you abandoning us!?" Julian dropped the bag and the medkit, then placed both his hands on the child's shoulders and gazed into his eyes. "Kalen, I promised you, after I gave your mother that medicine to make her feel better, that I wasn't going anywhere until I knew that you were all okay and that you could all take care of yourselves, didn't I?" "Yes, doctor." "Then can you tell me why I would break a promise like that?" Kalen looked at the doctor and mutely shook his head. "And neither can I. You see this man with me?" He indicated Garak, and the Cardassian smiled, then inclined his head at the child. "This is Advocate Garak . ." The child's eyes opened wide, and he stared at the man. "You mean *the* Advocate Garak? This is him? You never said you knew him! We would never have attacked you if we'd known you knew him!" He suddenly looked around the small square of tents, and waved his hands. "Hey! This is Advocate Garak! Doctor Bashir knows him! He's not leaving us! He's going to help us even more now!" "Your reputation seems to have preceded you." Julian's mouth actually turned completely up, and Garak swallowed at the fragile beauty the withered smile held, and he shrugged, as they were suddenly surrounded by about fifteen children of varying ages, the oldest of whom couldn't have been more than seventeen, as well as several adults, though most of those continued on with their business at the tents. "Advocate Garak, huh?" The oldest child snorted and looked him over. "You don't look like much." "He was in the Obsidian Order." A girl who may have been ten snorted. "He could kill you just by pointing a finger at you, so I'd shut up if I were you." "Besides, Jaris, he helps people like us." An older woman said reproachfully, and she looked into Garak's face. "You will help us, right? It's been a long time since someone came out to check on us and handed out food rations." Garak frowned. "This is the Samsond District. You should have been checked on just last week." "We haven't seen anyone official in almost a month." Another adult snorted bitterly. "And in my own district, we haven't been handed out new rations in over three months!" "The complaints are all like that, Garak." Julian spoke up, and it was clear that he was worried. "Despite the fact that we've been able to pool what resources we have, they're running low, and so are the medicines." He waved his hand in the direction of the tents. "We've done the best we could with what we have, but we're desperately in need of more help. I personally have spoken with several of your District Overseers, but they hardly listened to me, or my concerns." He frowned. "If I were in charge, Garak, I'd check into some of these people and their . . . activities. Some are living better than they probably should be. In fact . . ." He briefly raised, then lowered one shoulder. "Had you not come here today, I would have gone to see you tomorrow. I'm sure if you'd known how bad the situation was for some of the districts . . ." "Had I known, heads would have rolled, as Captain Sisko was so fond of saying." Garak scowled, and wondered at what point he'd become more embroiled in the intrigues of politics than in actually helping the people he'd sworn to when he'd accepted the position as Advocate. He looked at those assembled, and inhaled deeply. "I'm taking Doctor Bashir with me, and we're going to get ALL of this cleared up. You'll have food, medicine, and doctors here tomorrow morning." His eyes hardened, and no one disbelieved him. "Thank you Advocate Garak." A young girl said, impulsively threw her arms around his waist, then ran off. A moment later, the two men were left alone, and again, Julian struggled to stand, though he gave no outward sign of it, and he looked at Garak, obviously amused. "Can you really?" He asked, and Garak looked at him puzzled as they continued through the city. "Can I what?" He demanded, and Julian allowed a small chuckle to pass his lips. "Kill someone just by pointing a finger at them." "If I could, my dear doctor, *you* would have been dead a long time ago." Garak had meant his words in jest, but as Julian continued to look at him, his eyes remained serious. "You wouldn't be the first." He commented with a small shrug, then continued forward. Garak stared at the back of his friend, even as he caught up to him. "What's happened to you, Doctor?" He asked quietly, and Julian raised his eyebrow. "I've been out earning honors and awards, Advocate. Isn't that what you told me I'd been doing?" Julian completely withdrew into himself, and Garak shook his head. "Doctor, do you really think me so unobservant? I can recognize the signs. I know the anger, the bitterness, the fear, the wariness. I saw it all as you assessed me the very moment you saw me. I certainly recognized the scrutiny I was under. I could almost see it in your eyes as you wondered what weapons I might have had secreted upon my person and where my vulnerable spots were. I watched the way you looked over my office and checked for escape routes. Not to mention the fact that you moved out here, fought off several attacks from the more criminally minded locals *and* with some rather unique weapons. Yet, despite all that, you managed to pull together a people who have spent the better part of ten years fighting each other for whatever little scrap they could get their hands on. I also saw the considerably sophisticated alarm system you had, though you were building an extremely primitive water purifier out of parts you so obviously scrounged from the neighborhood." He stared into Julian's dull eyes, and scowled. "I meant what I said, Doctor. You are not the same man you were ten years ago." "If you know the answers, Garak, then why are you asking the questions?" Julian's voice throbbed with pain, and he briefly closed his eyes. "I did what I did for a reason. Maybe not exactly for the same reasons you did, but certainly for the same results." He laughed bitterly. "And I mean that in every sense of the words . . . and the deed. So, Advocate, it would be better for all involved if we just left it at that. Can't it be enough for you that I want to help your people?" Julian bit his lip, blinked and looked away. "And speaking of the which, we'd better get going. You promised those people they'd have help by morning." "Was I truly ever *this* frustrating, doctor?" Garak asked, and Julian almost smiled, then turned away. "In a word, yes." He answered, and the two men finished the walk into the city. They entered a very large, slightly run-down building, and Julian closed his eyes as the cool air hit his face. "Oh yes. That feels *so* good." He almost groaned, which prompted an unexpected response from Garak's body that he was barely able to suppress as a smaller, younger Cardassian met them in the large hallway, stopped, and stared at Julian in shock. "This is Doctor Julian Bashir, Feldan. He'll be staying with us for a while." Garak told him, and Julian raised his eyebrow at his friend as he continued. "I want you to draw up a bath, but keep the water relatively cool. Have Trianda prepare a meal large enough for two, complete with Tarkalean tea, then bring it into the conservatory. Doctor Bashir and I have much to discuss, and it may take a while." "Yes, Advocate." The man inclined his head, then went off into the depths of the huge building, and Julian looked around as Garak led him up a set of steps, and the human looked around at the walls. "Somehow, this is just like you, Garak. Deceptively simple on the outside, but lavish and grand on the inside." He ran a hand through his hair and grimaced, then sighed. "A bath. I can't believe I'm going to have an actual bath. I've been doing the best I could to clean myself with what water we could get purified for the amount of people that continually show up, but I think the last time I was really clean was on the shuttle here." He rolled his shoulders tiredly, stretched his neck, then cracked his back, and Garak shook his head as Julian ran a hand across his drawn, exhausted face. "When was the last time you slept, doctor?" He asked, and Julian shrugged. "Yesterday or the day before, I think. I managed to grab a couple of hours, but Kalen's mother is pregnant, and she needed me." He frowned. "It's a difficult pregnancy too. By rights she should be in a hospital." "So many of the poor and displaced should be in hospitals but aren't. It's one of the things I've tried to address, but there are members of the new government who were in the old, and they are still very much class conscious, and, as you can tell, it's hindering my progress. In fact, some of the people I've been after for years are masters at avoiding me. And I swear, doctor, that some of the dealings I've had to discover and stop are more underhanded and insanely devious than some of the things we did in the Obsidian Order. " He scowled. "In fact, that's what took me so long to get back to you. I'm in charge of twelve districts in this city alone, and there are eight others outside the city limits. It seems that the moment I fix a problem in one district, other problems crop up in other districts . . . and the ones I heard today are just the tip of the problem. It was so much easier when I could just quietly hunt people down and assassinate them." He shook his head. "There was a time when I used to have to worry only about whether I needed to kill someone or hem a pair of pants. Now I'm almost single-handedly making decisions that affect thousands of other peoples' entire lives . . ." "You're working to improve Cardassia and you're working to help your fellow Cardassians, Garak. It's what you've always wanted to do. In a way, it's what you've always done. But, you knew it wouldn't be an easy job." Julian snorted. "And you also know that you wouldn't have it any other way. You love challenges far too much to wish for anything less than what you have." "True." Garak finally nodded. "At least this time around I don't necessarily have to worry about whether or not I'm going to be exiled . . . or assassinated." He looked briefly at Julian, and the younger man raised his eyebrow, and Garak watched as his lips twitched as if he wanted to smile. "You haven't ticked anyone off enough for that yet, have you?" "I can only hope not, Doctor. That would positively put a damper on my enthusiasm for my job." Garak blinked innocently, and once again, the corners of Julian's mouth turned up. "No it wouldn't, and you know it." His voice was warm, and Garak couldn't stop the flood of emotion as he basked in the fleeting warmth even as the doctor continued. "In fact, I can honestly say I know for a fact that it'd make your days far more personally interesting, if not exciting." "You know me far too well, doctor." Garak inclined his head, and Julian looked at him briefly, then away, as he blinked rapidly as if to clear his eyes, then rubbed the back of his neck, and cleared his suddenly rough throat. "No. No, Garak, I don't. I never really did, and I'm sorry for that." "That's certainly an odd thing for you to say, doctor, isn't it?" Garak asked, and he watched the other man's eyes carefully as they saddened. "Not really. Not after all the time that's passed. Not after all the things that were never said, no." He shook his head, then straightened his shoulders resolutely. "But, old times and even older regrets are not what we're here to discuss. We should be talking about your people and how we're going to help them." He turned away and Garak knew that the warmth of the moment had passed. Instantaneously he regretted the damnable Cardassian, Obsidian Order, Elim Garak reticence that denied him the openness he knew the other man needed, and needed at that time more than he had at any other, even if he didn't know it, as the human continued. "And speaking of people, Garak, I'd like to bring in some more doctors and nurses, if it wouldn't traumatize your people too much. I know several different Federation members, beside humans, who, while they may not specialize in Cardassian Physiognomy, they are at least familiar with it, and they don't give a vole's bottom about who did what in what war or when. All they care about is helping other beings in trouble. I'd also like to be able to have some temporary hospital shelters set up in the districts as well. The tents are good for now, but we do need proper, and at the very least, sterile facilities . . ." He would have continued, but was interrupted as Feldan entered. "The bath is drawn, Advocate, and I've cooled some towels as well. There's also a pitcher of ice water beside the tub." "Oh, that sounds heavenly." Julian almost purred, and Garak nodded. "Thank you. That will be all." "I'll go see about your dinners now." The man bowed, then exited, and Garak led Julian into the bathroom. The human's mouth fell open as he stared, wide-eyed, at the large, opulent, raised, bathing pool. "Oh, Garak. This is incredible. It looks like something from one of Earth's myths. Marble blocks, ceramic tiles, or something that resmbles them at any rate, lots of plants and . . ." He raised his eyebrow at Garak, and again, his lips twitched as he stared into the raised pool. "Bubbles?" "I developed a fondness for them while on Deep Space. It was Lieutenant Dax . . . Jadzia . . . who introduced me to them." Garak looked slightly embarrassed. "I guess Feldan is used to doing that for me . . ." "Garak, I could care less if that pool had a family of alligators living in it right now. I'll take the bubbles. I haven't had a taste of decadence in a long time. Besides, it's water, it's clean, and there's soap . . ." He looked longingly at the pool, and Garak smiled. "I'll go add your list of requests to what I've already written down as needed by our people, while you bathe, Doctor. Please, take your time and enjoy your bath." "Thank you, Garak." Julian turned his back and Garak ambled out of the bathroom. He turned just in time to see Julian as he drew his dirty tunic over his head, and almost sighed out loud as he caught a glimpse of golden skin, then he closed the door tightly. The last thing he needed were his thoughts wandering back to before he'd convinced himself that his lust for the younger man, and he was still a younger man despite the fact he was forty-four years old, was nothing more than the fleeting desire for beautiful company to fill an exile's lonely existence. He went into his room and over to his clothing replicator, then smiled as he programmed measurements into it that he had never forgotten. He inhaled and wondered what, exactly, he should give Julian for clothing. The human had shown up in his office wearing a tunic and loose pants, and he had found him in a similar outfit that day. It seemed that Julian chose to hide his body, rather than outline it as he had in the past, and Garak knew the mindset behind that. Loose clothing afforded cover. It afforded cover for not only body armor, but for weaponry, as well as the fact that the enemy wasn't able to assess a person's true ability from being able to judge their muscle mass, or lack thereof. He inhaled deeply and swallowed. If Julian still dressed for cover, then he hadn't been out of whatever service he'd been in for very long, if, indeed, he was out of it at all. With a sigh of resignation, he programmed the clothing replicator for the same type of clothing Julian had worn, though he couldn't resist, and made the material a warm shade of forest green, and used a material that resembled silk, then replicated a soft, but strong, pair of brown, suede type, knee high boots . . . perfect for hiding daggers and other pointed weapons in. With his mind on the clothing, he opened the bathroom door and entered. Julian lay in the tub, completely relaxed, his hair wet and slicked back from his face, which had lost its aged, pinched look in the calm repose of sleep. Garak allowed himself to gaze for a moment at the sleeping figure, then frowned as he realized that though Julian had always been slender, the man in the tub was almost skeletal. Apparently, Julian took as much time for eating as he had taken for sleeping. Quietly, Garak vowed that would change, and he crept in and reached for Julian's original clothing. He immediately realized he'd made a mistake, and that he had been out of the `game' for far too long, as Julian almost literally exploded from the tub. He reached out, grabbed the pitcher of ice water, and smashed it against the floor. Garak tried to retreat, but Julian reached out, grabbed him, and threw him head over heels to the floor, which scattered the clothing Garak held. Before the Cardassian could even begin to recover from his surprise, he found himself flat on his back with a very naked, very wet, wild-eyed, Julian Bashir stretched pronely over him, a large and jagged piece of glass pressed insistently against his throat. Garak lay completely still and watched as the wild look faded from the human's eyes and was instantly replaced with shame, humiliation, fear, and pain. "Oh damn, Garak." He almost sobbed as he all but leapt off Garak, avoided the shattered pieces of glass, grabbed a towel and covered himself as he sat on the floor and leaned his back against the rim of the pool. He drew his legs to his chest and dropped his head into his knees. "I'm so sorry." "I should have let you know that I was here. I certainly should have known better than to try and creep around someone who's lived like we have." He allowed himself a small touch on the man's knee, and Julian slowly raised his head and gazed at the fingertips. "But, tell me, doctor, just how long have you been out of . . . the service?" Julian's voice was bitter, and Garak fought the desire to pull the distraught man into his arms and hold him until he shivered with want for the Cardassian, rather than with fear of himself. "Oh, what a pretty euphemism for Section 31." He snarled, but there was only defeat in his tone. "A year . . . give or take a few months. " Garak stared at the man, and Julian's lips twisted into a grimace. "Shall I tell you a story, Garak?" "You know I like stories, Doctor." Garak said mildly, and Julian sighed. "This one isn't a happy one, Garak, I promise you that, and the ending's also quite sad, but if you really want to hear it . . ." He looked at Garak for confirmation, and the Cardassian sat quietly and expectantly. "Okay, but if you don't like it, don't say I didn't warn you." Julian shrugged, closed his eyes, and sighed. "Once upon a time there was a bright, idealistic young doctor, who was sure he had all the right answers to all the questions and problems of the universe. If it was a virus, give it a shot and make it go away. If it was a wound, close it, and it would go away. If it was a malignant tumor, cut it out, and it would go away. Well, one day, he had a favorite patient. Beautiful, flawless, and everything he admired. But then one day, as he was admiring the patient, he saw a small flaw. It wasn't much, but it made him look at things just a little differently, examine things a little closer. One day, while examining the still beautiful patient even more carefully than he ever had before, he found that the flaw was really a large growth that had developed under the skin. After that, he probed deeper, and found that the growth had spread so far and so deeply under the skin that the patient was only beautiful on the outside. The growth had eaten away at everything that was good and decent about the patient he'd so admired before, and there was only one thing that could be done to save the patient." He stopped and looked down at the towel, inhaled deeply, and Garak leaned forward slightly. "And that was?" "To go inside and surgically remove every trace of the growth. Which is what our bright, idealistic not-so-young-anymore doctor did. He carefully pried his way under the surface of the patient's skin, worked his way through layers and layers of noxious growth, and finally found his way clear to the entire root of the whole thing. All he had to do was cut the last piece out, and the connection would be broken. The patient would survive, maybe not completely intact, it wouldn't be quite as beautiful as it had been, and there would be a long period of recovery, but it would survive. However, there was one thing the doctor forgot." "What was that?" Garak's voice caught in his throat, and the pain that filled Julian's eyes as he gazed, unseeing, into Garak's face, made the Cardassian want to kill each and every person who had put that pain there. "When a doctor works with an ill patient long enough, it is entirely possible for him to be infected by the disease as well . . . in more than one way, and which makes him no better and no worse than the disease he was trying to eliminate." His lips twisted in bitter recrimination and inclined his head as if to receive a bitter accolade. "And so, there you have it, Garak. The doctor was forced to close the patient who yet remains beautiful on the surface, even as the disease continues to eat away at it from the inside . . . checked and restrained a considerable bit, but not gone. Not ever gone . . ." He once more rested his head on his knees, and Garak looked over at him thoughtfully. "And the doctor? What happened to him?" "He lives." Julian shrugged, stood, then turned away as he covered himself with the towel, and Garak knew he wasn't going to get any more out of Julian that night. "I am sorry I tried to kill you, Garak." He whispered, and the Cardassian stood as well. "Doctor, I have never once . . ." He grinned. "Well, maybe once, but only that once I assure you, ever thought that you would kill me." "I wish I had your confidence." Julian commented, and Garak shook his head. "As long as I have it, that's enough." He gathered the scattered lcthing, and placed it next to the pool away from the puddled water and glass. "Now though, if you are through with your bath, I've brought you some clothing to change into. After that we'll have a nice meal and discuss ways a not-so-young, idealistic doctor can help my people. I'll have Feldan clean up the glass after you're done." "Thank you, Garak." Julian's voice so soft that Garak almost didn't hear him, but he turned back to the beautiful, fragile man, avoided the glass as he went to the door of the bathroom, winked, then left. Once outside the door, he collapsed against the wall and leaned his head against the coolness of the wall. His heart bled for his Julian, and he knew he couldn't deny, any longer, the fact that he still loved him. It had been all he was able to do not to have thrown his arms around the suffering human and volunteered the only kind of comfort Julian might have accepted had it been offered from anyone else. But not from him. Not from the Cardassian Ex-tailor, ex-spy, ex-friend . . . though they seemed to have renewed that brittle bond thankfully, even if it were only based on Julian's desire to make up for what he'd done in Section 31 by helping Garak's people. `He lives' had been Julian's answer when he had been asked about what had happened to the doctor in the story that told everything though nonetheless said nothing. However, Garak remembered Julian's eyes and how dead they'd been that first day when he'd shown up almost three weeks before. He remembered the tense strained reserve with which Julian held himself, and used that wall to keep not only Garak from getting close to him, but the people in the district as well. He also remembered the pain that had so flooded the man's eyes as he'd told his story, and Garak knew differently. No, the doctor did not live. He'd died the very moment he'd been denied his victory over Section 31 . . . and what was worse, the doctor himself knew it. Garak walked back down the stairs, shook his head, entered what passed as his study, then froze in the closest thing to shock he ever got. He suddenly frowned and slowly continued forward as he studied the older, blond man who was dressed all in black, and who sat in what was essentially *his* chair behind *his* desk, drinking a glass of *his* finest Kanaar. (end part 2)