"I'm usually informed when I have guests, and I certainly never see 
people unexpectedly, particularly humans, here on Cardassia, let 
alone in my own home." Garak's voice was wary, but polite, and the 
man saluted him with the glass he held. His smile was small, 
cynical, superior, and highly annoying - a fact which Garak 
instinctually knew the other man was well aware. "Somehow, I don't 
believe it's such a coincidence that when Doctor Bashir shows up, 
what I assume is Section 31 comes crawling closely behind. Does he 
know you're here?"

If the man gave any indication that he was surprised that Garak knew 
who he represented, he gave no sign, and inclined his head. "I 
realize this might appear to be a bit . . . threatening . . . but I 
assure you, I mean you no harm."

Garak snorted. "If you had, I assure *you*, you would have been dead 
by now." He said, and the man shrugged.

"I've died before. They'll just make another one. They do so hate 
to waste good operatives. Which, actually, brings me to my point."

"You're talking about Doctor Bashir, I presume?" Garak asked, and 
the man sighed.

"He was such an asset to our organization . . . until we found out 
that he had his own agenda." He sighed sadly. "Do you have any idea 
how high into the organization he actually got before we were finally 
able to stop him? It was a pity, really. We actually believed he'd 
lost that most annoying conscience of his."

"The one thing about Doctor Bashir I know for certain, is that he'll 
never lose that. Speaking of the good doctor, you realize he's 
upstairs right now, and will be down any minute."

"And I'm sure if he knew I were here, he'd come down with his guns 
blazing, as my Great Grandfather used to say. But, along with your 
staff, and the help of a small amount of harmless narco-gas, he's 
getting some sleep that he's desperately in need of, so we have a few 
minutes of uninterrupted privacy to talk."

"I see." Garak's past training held him in good stead, and he didn't 
give in to his impulse to wipe the smugness from the human's face 
with his fist, and he merely raised an eyeridge. "And what, exactly, 
do we have to talk about?"

"I am aware that he spoke to you briefly about his infiltration of 
our organization, though I couldn't exactly hear what was said, due 
to the rather electronically debilitating effect of the dust storms 
you are constantly afflicted with."

"I can see I'm going to have to strengthen my ground security as well 
as my inner security. I take it you have a ship with cloaking, as 
well as beaming capability in our immediate atmosphere. Otherwise you 
never would have gotten in here quite so unannounced . . . or so 
freely." Garak frowned, and the other man shrugged.

"Actually, I wouldn't be here at all, if not for our troublesome, 
mutual friend. As you can imagine, he's created quite a few problems 
within our organization . . ."

"I'm sure he did. I'm also quite surprised that you haven't 
terminated him before now." Garak crossed his hands over his chest to 
hide the slight tremor of anger and more than a little fear, and the 
human snorted.

"Oh, believe me, we would have, *if* he hadn't made arrangements for 
the wide-spread dispensation of information throughout the 
Federation, and even to some planets not in the Federation before 
we'd found him out. He was most . . . thorough . . . in hiding 
numbers, codes, and who he may have involved in his plans. As you 
can imagine, he's not the only one who thinks that our organization 
should no longer exist. However, as I have said, he was raised quite 
highly into the ranks of the service before we finally discovered his 
involvement, his intentions, and before we were able to stop him."

"You keep saying you stopped him. Yet, here you are, in my home, 
drinking my Kanaar, and I don't hear anything that sounds even 
remotely like a threat to the good doctor's well being." Garak was 
intrigued, and he leaned forward slightly. "I sense there's been 
more of a stalemate than an actual resolution . . . for either 
involved party."

For the first time since they'd spoken, the man showed annoyance, and 
he grimaced. "I know about you, Advocate. I know your past, and I 
know who you studied under and learned from. Enabran Tain was a 
highly respected adversary sometimes, and an equally respected ally 
at others. I'm sure that, as his protegee if nothing else, you can 
understand the need to protect oneself, but more importantly, the 
organization you are sworn to uphold. . ."

"As his protegee, yes, I suppose I can understand that, though 
noone's called me on that in many, many years." Garak inclined his 
head modestly.

"So, you can understand our dilemma then. There we were, the oldest, 
most secret organization in the Federation, about to be wiped out by 
one Genetically Engineered man whose death or loss of his mental 
facilities, would destroy us anyway. So, what could we do? We 
couldn't kill him, we couldn't mind wipe him, we couldn't make him 
disappear because of all the safeguards he'd put into place to 
prevent those very occurrences, and we couldn't even go after anyone 
he cared for, as he had separated himself from everyone before he 
even joined us."

"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 . . ." Garak quoted, and hot rage filled him as he 
suddenly realized what Julian had meant, and had he the ability, he 
would have killed the man where he sat. "You gave him a disease. 
Just like you gave the Founders a disease." Garak hissed, and took a 
step forward, but the older man frowned, stood, and pulled out a 
weapon, which he leveled at Garak.

"It was the only solution." He said, and the two glared at one 
another. "And you would have done no less if the situation were 
reversed. I was hoping I could convince you to help us. To find out 
what he knows and who he told . . . in return for certain favors of 
course. Section 31 can take very good care of the people who work 
with us."

"Yes, I've seen how you take care of people." Garak stared at the 
brazen man. "You take good people and destroy them."  He shook his 
head.  "Can you seriously be that arrogant as to think that the 
protegee of Enabran Tain would be so intimidated by the likes of you 
that he would betray the one person who gave a damn about him when 
the rest of the universe had decided he wasn't worth anything more 
than something to be laughed at, spit upon, or killed?" Despite the 
weapon that was aimed squarely at his chest, Garak stepped closer, 
and his blue eyes blazed with the force of his restrained anger. "I 
remind you that you are not dealing with some naive doctor out to 
save the universe now. You're dealing with someone who was chewing 
people like you up and spitting out the pieces very probably before 
the first one of you was even born, and who enjoyed doing it. 
Challenging me over this would be a very bad idea." Garak's voice was 
cold as he barely restrained himself though everything in him 
demanded that he leap at the man, strangle him with his bare hands, 
and leave the pieces for Julian to spit on. "But tell me, what 
disease did you give him if you couldn't take the chance of killing 
him? I thought the purpose of giving someone a disease was to 
eliminate them without suspicion."

"Rikalian's Syndrome."

The new voice behind them startled both men, and they looked over at 
the door, where Julian stood just inside it. He was dressed in the 
clothes that Garak had chosen, and held a small, but obviously deadly 
weapon on the man behind the desk. His body was stone column rigid, 
his face expressionless, and both the human and the Cardassian  
instanly recognized a killing stare as Julian's eyes never blinked 
and his hand that held the weapon never wavered.

"I've never heard of that syndrome." Garak commented mildly, but his 
heart bled for the innocence that was so absent from the beloved face.

"It won't kill you unless certain criteria has been met." Julian 
continued. "Criteria like prolonged exposure to the elements, 
living in unsanitary conditions, eating low amounts of non-nutritious 
foods, and prolonged and continued exposure to various sicknesses and 
diseases . . ."

"All the things which I believe you've been living with for the past 
three weeks, doctor, and which are absolutely guaranteed to make you 
ill. And you know what will happen if you get sick enough, Doctor 
Bashir." The blond man sounded almost concerned, and Julian 
scowled. "As it is, I can tell you've lost weight, and you seem 
rather pale . . ."

"You took everything I loved from me: My friends, my work, my ability 
to really help people. You forced me to live like some sheltered, 
pompous child, afraid of the very germs, parasites, and bacteria I 
fought so hard to eradicate in my patients. And the one disease I 
swore to stop, I wasn't able to . . . then."

"Are you sick now, doctor?" Garak asked quietly.

"I'm well into the first stage, yes. But it could be reversed, 
provided I get the proper rest, nutrition, and so on and so forth. 
However, when I enter stage two, then there'll be nothing anyone can 
do. But it won't matter . . ."

"Do you hate us so much that you are willing to finally die, doctor? 
After all this time has passed?" The blond man asked, as his hand 
strayed to his collar, and Julian walked forward, until he was even 
with the desk, and the weapon was flat against the man's forehead.

"I already visited your ship and disarmed the forceshield as well as 
reprogrammed your transporter. Surely you didn't think I was that 
stupid, or that far gone that I couldn't do something as simple as 
that." He snorted. "And when I sensed the effects of the narco-gas, 
I simply ducked my head under the water and held my breath long 
enough for the gas to dissipate. But, to answer your question, 
Sloan, it took me ten years to get to where I am now, and it took the 
last year, give or take a few months, to get to the point where I 
finally realized that I've truly lost everything. That being the 
case, what does a man who's lost everything have to live for? I'm 
going to die, Sloan, and nothing and noone can do anything about it." 
He smiled cruelly. "And I'd *really* think twice before you or any of 
your . . ." He sneered. "Compatriots show up here again. Garak is 
quite capable of taking care of himself. And, keeping that in mind, I 
really do suggest you leave while you still can. After all, I 
essentially killed you once. I'm more than capable of doing it again 
if I have to . . . only this time I'll do it in cold blood.  After 
all, I've done it to others . . . and under your orders."  He tilted 
his head.  "What's one more life on my dying conscience?  Especially 
when it's yours?"

"Doctor . . ." A note of desperation sounded in the man's voice, and 
he swallowed. "Think about what you are doing. You'll destroy 
countless innocent lives. Your death and Section 31's final 
destruction will serve no purpose except to humiliate the 
Federation . . ."

"The Federation has survived for almost five hundred years. A little 
embarrassment and a scandal that will fade in less than fifty, really 
won't make all that much difference to anyone now, will it?" His lips 
curled over his teeth. "And besides, what has the Federation done for 
me? It turned me into a killer, a liar, and a hypocrite, all things I 
have ever despised. So, now, you can just run back to your little 
nest of vipers and tell everyone it's over. And believe me . . ." He 
laughed bitterly. "You *will* know when it's over." 

He pulled a small device from his pocket, pressed a button on the 
top, and in a shimmer of light, the man/clone called Sloan was 
transported from the room. A moment later, the weapon and the device 
disappeared into Julian's tunic.  He exhaled a large breath and a 
coughing spell wracked his frame as he all but collapsed onto his 
hands on Garak's desk. His body trembled with fatigue and the 
coughing fit subsided, though it left him, obviously, barely able to 
stand.

Garak stared at the weakened man, and was more angry than he could 
ever remember being at anyone or anything.

"So that's it, then." He glared at Julian, who looked up at him, and 
blinked rapidly as the image of his friend blurred before his 
eyes. "You're just going to die and let them win."

"There's no winner, Garak. Not in this kind of life."  He shook his 
head.  "There seldom is. I learned that the very first mission I 
undertook for them on Romulus. I'm tired of playing, Garak. I'm tired 
of losing . . ."

"So you came here, not to help my people, but to use their plight to 
spur on your own death." Garak gripped the younger man by the 
shoulders, and Julian hissed in pain, but made no move to free 
himself. In fact, his next move unnerved the Cardassian as he 
slowly reached up and ran the back of his fingers over the weathered 
cheek, and sighed softly.

"No, Garak, I didn't come here to die. I came here to see if I had 
anything to live for, and to help your people. To make my last works 
actually count for something good." His expression softened, and he 
looked away. "Garak, if I were able to turn back the clock to the day 
I stood with you while you discovered Cardassia's fate after the 
occupation, I would tell you what I never had the courage to say 
before it was too late . . . had I even had the courage to admit it 
to myself . . . then. I was so blind, Garak, and when I finally 
realized what I really wanted and what I really needed, it was too 
late." He looked down. "I knew it was, but I had to prove it to 
myself. I came here to find something I'd lost a long time ago, and 
once I realized I'd lost the one thing . . . the one being I had 
unconsciously lived for, well, what use did I have for what was left 
of my life? The good that will be accomplished by my death . . ."

"Will be meaningless to anyone who ever knew and loved you, Doctor." 
Garak threw away any and all residual caution, anger, hurt, and 
betrayal, and let the feelings he'd always had for the human fill 
him. More importantly, he let it show as he reached under Julian's 
chin and gently lifted his face until he looked into the human's 
hopeless, pain-darkened eyes. "I hope I'm not misreading you, my 
dear doctor." He said, and before he could change his mind, or 
Julian could pull away, he covered the human's mouth with his own, 
and kissed the other man with all the love, passion, devotion, and 
desperation he had finally allowed himself to acknowledge.

For a moment, he was afraid he *had* misread Julian's words and his 
actions.  However, he suddenly relaxed as the human collapsed against 
him, wrapped his thin but strong arms around the bulkier Cardassian, 
clenched the glossy black hair in his fists, and moaned into the 
mouth that devoured his, until, finally, Julian responded in kind.

Only the need for air broke the kiss that had waited too long to be 
joined, and Garak frowned into the wan face of the man he loved. He 
licked his lips nervously and spoke a word he'd never used before by 
itself. "Julian . . ."

"Elim . . ." Julian whispered, and Garak frowned slightly.

"You know my name . . ."

"I've known it for a long time. I've just never had the occasion to 
use it." His lips curled up into almost a smile, and Garak was 
pleased to see some of the `old' Julian in that frail expression, 
though he realized he had a long way to go to bring his doctor back 
to life.

"I see." He commented, then stroked the longish hair back from the 
tired, careworn face. "But tell me, is it too late? Are you going 
to die?"

"I've found something to live for. As I said, I'm still in the first 
stage." His lips curled upward again and he inhaled deeply. "And 
no, I guess it's not too late - for anything. "

"But what about Section 31?"

"They'll keep." Julian grinned cruelly, and Garak winced as he 
wished that Julian had never had to learn that expression. "It'll 
keep them wondering when the world will drop out from under their 
feet. Maybe the entire lot of them will get ulcers." He suddenly 
looked worried and touched Garak's face as his fingers shook with 
weariness. "Although, despite what I told them, they might come 
after you anyway."

"Perhaps." Garak grinned widely. "But I think that between you and 
me, we can outmaneuver them, no matter what they try. Separately 
we're strong, but together, the way we should be, the way we should 
have been, we're unbeatable. We've certainly proven that enough times 
in the past."

Julian's grin matched Garak's, though it was ephemeral at best, and 
he nodded, leaned his head on Garak's shoulder, and finally allowed 
the other man to see how weak he actually was. "I do believe you are 
correct. But for now . . ."

"For now I suggest you go to bed . . ." Garak interrupted, and 
Julian chuckled faintly.

"What a coincidence, I was about to suggest the same thing . . ." 

"Got to bed and rest." Garak chided. "You need to get better before 
we can do anything serious . . . either together or for my people."

Julian snorted, though he knew that Garak was right. "Carry me." He 
suddenly said, and Garak stared at him, sure he hadn't heard 
correctly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said carry me. You want me to go to bed, you'll have to take me 
there."

"Doctor Bashir! You are a man . . . a forty-four year old man at 
that. I'm quite sure you don't need to be carried to bed like some 
blushing bride . . ."

He stopped as Julian's face dropped, his lower lip pouted out, his 
eyes drooped sadly, and he sighed. "I guess you're right, but it 
still would have been romantic. Especially after all this time, and 
after all we've gone through to finally get back together."

"I never could resist those eyes." Garak grumbled, put his arms 
around Julian's waist. 

"I know." The human nodded smugly, but was suddenly turned upside 
down, and flung over Garak's shoulder. "ELIM GARAK! This is NOT what 
I meant! This is NOT romantic, and it's not dignified either! I 
demand you put me down this . . ."

"A . . .ah . . . excuse, me, Advocate?" Feldan's voice came to them, 
and they both looked at him.

"Yes, Feldan?"  Garak's voice was calm, and if he was at all 
embarassed at the situation, he gave no indication of it, though 
julian's face turned redder by the moment.

"I don't know quite what happened, but Trianda and I apparently fell 
asleep . . ."

"It's okay, Feldan. We had a visitor who didn't wish to be known. I 
promise you it won't happening again any time soon." Garak answered, 
and Feldan looked uncomfortable, then swallowed.

"Y . . . yes, Advocate. A . . . about your dinners . . ."

"When they're ready, bring them up to my room."

"Um . . . okay." He nodded, then turned and left the room.

"I think we quite surprised my young friend, what do you think, 
doctor?" Garak asked, his tone light, and he laughed.

"I'm think I'm going to be sick if you don't put me down, right now, 
and if you think I'm kidding, you just wait." Julian threatened, but 
his voice trembled, and Garak immediately put the man down, though he 
held tightly onto his waist and held him against his side. "Thank 
you." Julian's voice was weak and dissolved into another coughing 
fit. Without another word, Garak helped him up the stairs, then 
opened the door to yet another large, opulent room. Julian looked at 
the majestic bed that graced a large portion of it, and his lips 
turned up in a half-smile. "Nice place you've got here." He 
commented, and Garak grinned.

"It belonged to the leader of the Old Order. It's taken me a long 
time to get it fixed up, but I like it. I'm glad you like it too, as 
you'll be spending a lot of time here."

"In bed, or in the house?" Julian asked innocently. Garak shook his 
head as he helped Julian onto the bed and stroked the dark hair away 
from the ashen face, and smiled into the eyes that somehow seemed 
lighter than they had been a few moments before.

"Either or both. Whatever you want." The Cardassian told him, and 
Julian's eyes drooped wearily.

"Either and both." He whispered, then sighed. "I'm so tired now, 
Garak."

"Then you rest, and when you wake, we can talk some more."

"And kiss . . . some more." Julian's lips turned up at the corners, 
and Garak silently vowed that he'd bring a full smile back to the 
man, if it took him the rest of his life. "Waited too . . . long."

"Fortunately, we don't have to wait any longer." Garak leaned over 
Julian, and brushed his lips lightly over the surface of Julian's, 
and the man exhaled another long, satisfied breath.

"Love . . . you . . ." He said with the last of his waking breath, 
and Garak smiled.

"And I you. Welcome to my home and to my heart, Doctor." He sat 
beside Julian and watched as the man slept.

Silently, angrily, he vowed that Section 31 would pay, and pay dearly 
for what they'd done to the man he loved. Julian was no longer alone 
in his fight against them, and Garak had no doubt that together, as 
they had so obviously been meant to be, he and Julian would triumph 
over anything and anyone that tried to hurt either of them ever again.

The End!