The BLTS Archive - Eye Of The Beholder
by Ainzfern (ainzfern@hotmail.com)

---

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

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

Feedback: Yes please!  All comments are gratefully welcomed.

Author's Note: Can't recall if I ever actually posted this one to the
ASCEML. Apologies in advance if it's a repeat, the old memory just
ain't what it... uhm... er... forgot was I was going to say...<g>.

Once again, I shall let the erstwhile and delightfully EVIL Saklani,
explain the nuances of the draw she has given me. (Gotta luv ya,
Saklani, you know that!) May I also add HUGE ADORING THANKS to her
too, for her wonderful and fast (wow) BETA.

KYRIL FINN:  A native of the civil war torn planet, Rutia IV. The
charismatic leader of the "Ansata" terrorists responsible for the
abduction of Dr. Crusher and Captain Picard during the TNG
episode "The High Ground" (Season Three) . Finn twisted the efforts
of the Enterprise crew into threats to his people and made Crusher
doubt her beliefs about the Federation's position on Rutia IV. He
also showed a compassionate side when he drew flattering pictures of
Crusher and confessed that he truly did not want her to fear him...

Praise be to the mighty Startrek.com
Go here:
http://www.startrek.com/startrek/view/series/TNG/episode/68426.html
and play the preview if you want to check Kyril out. (Albeit
briefly... he's the guy with the good hair, talking to Bev about
their war for independence...)

AU NOTE? Oh Sure. Definitely not Canon, that for certain, lol!

---
DEEP SPACE NINE: STATION'S INFIRMARY: STARDATE 50063.6
---

Julian had known who he was the moment he heard him speak.

Standing there in the quarantine room at the back of the infirmary,
Dr Julian Bashir stared down at his newest charge for what seemed
like an eternity.

//So *that's* what he looks like,// he mused silently.

He hadn't known.  He hadn't thought that he would *ever* know.

---

It had started two days ago, this strange odyssey into his own past,
this chance to say thank you.

The patient had arrived on DS9 in a battered old runabout of Rutian
design, it's pilot barely able to answer the welcoming hail from Ops.

It had been very evident to all that on board the little craft was a
very sick man who was rapidly dying.

The Ops officer on duty had tractored the ship into the docking ring,
then called security and medical. Considering that the man had
appeared to be sick rather than injured, all due care was taken
during his transfer from the docking ring to the infirmary.

Both the security team and the medical staff wore quarantine suits,
complete with air filters and full facial masks.

Doctor's orders. One couldn't be too careful.

For nearly twelve hours, Julian implemented a regime of supportive
therapy while he took samples of the newcomer's tissues, stools and
blood. He ran the gamut of tests, needing to be certain that his
suspicions were correct. DS9 had many transients passing through.
Some of them had traveled to and from the furthest reaches of the
quadrant. Any one of them could potentially carry a new or as yet
unclassified strain of infectious disease. Many lives on DS9 depended
on their CMO's thoroughness.

He had his own theories on the reason behind the man's illness of
course, but he needed to be sure.

In the end it turned out that he had been correct, and the hypospray
that he had administered had an almost immediate effect.

So now, his suddenly lucid patient was staring up at him, eyes
narrowed, obviously trying to discern the features behind the face
mask and filter.

"So... where have I ended up?" Julian's nameless patient had asked.

At the sound of that voice, Julian had literally frozen with shock.

Berating himself, he forced his limbs to move and continued undoing
the fasteners that attached the mask to his quarantine suit. He
wasn't young and lost and helpless anymore. Besides, what had
happened... well, it was a long time ago. He had no reason to feel
ashamed or afraid.

To his own delight, he realized that he wasn't.

"You're on Deep Space Nine, a Federation station near the planet of
Bajor," he answered his patient, as he worked the little clips loose.
The air filter had a strange affect on his voice, making it sound
thin and mechanical. "You arrived here yesterday. I don't know if you
remember, but you were very ill, close to dying."

Julian pulled the mask away from his face and looked at the man lying
on the bio bed, noting with no surprise how his dark eyes widened in
sudden incredulity.

//Of course he recognizes me,// Julian told himself silently, //there
was never anything wrong with *his* eyes.//

"Still," Julian continued calmly, seeing but consciously ignoring how
the true sound of his voice also effected the recovering man, "the
good news is that you were suffering from the effects of poison, not
infection, and you *are* going to recover."

His patient blinked, composing himself. "I was poisoned? How?"

"The trail began in your intestines," Julian explained. "I'd say that
you ingested something fairly toxic."

"Those wretched Sour-Berries," his patient said wryly. "I guess I
didn't steep them long enough. It's no wonder I got poorly so
quickly."

"Well. That would do it, all right," Julian nodded. "I remember you
telling me how virulent they were without proper preparation."

"And you saved me? Thank you."

"I owed you," Julian said softly. Then he smiled. "It's good the see
you, Kyril."

It really was.

---

Julian completed a final check of his patients before dimming the
infirmary, making it easier for his charges to sleep through the
station's night. Then he retired to his office, leaving the door open
so that he could keep an ear out and tried his damndest to
concentrate on setting out the new roster.

It wasn't easy. His mind kept straying to Kyril, resting in the
small private room at the rear of the infirmary. Julian had thought
it best to leave him there for now, even though his condition was no
longer listed as infectious.

Kyril Finn... He hadn't consciously thought about that name in a long
time.  Strange how certain images suddenly came back to him.

Julian laughed softly to himself as he considered that "image"
probably wasn't exactly the right word. After all, he never actually
*saw* the man.

He had heard him though. Touched him. Talked with him. Known him.

Loved him?

Maybe, a little. A lot. At the time.

Part of him still did, if he was honest with himself.

The problem that Doctor Julian Bashir, CMO of Deep Space Nine, had
right now was more than just memories. The problem was *here*. The
problem was *now*.

He knew who this man was. He hadn't back then, but he did now. He was
probably the *only* person in the universe who did.

Kyril Finn.

According to Starfleet intelligence, Finn was the leader of the
Ansata Terrorist Cell. A man who had, by all reports, the ability to
talk up a revolution, the charisma to attract a multitude of
followers and a heart made entirely of stone.

Starfleet records described Kyril Finn as dangerous, possibly
delusional, certainly ruthless.

Starfleet records also described Kyril Finn as deceased.

The problem was, Julian *knew* him to be none of these things...

---
PRIVATELY RENTED RUNABOUT: ON ROUTE TO PLANET RISA: 5 YEARS EARLIER.
---

"Computer," Julian Bashir, twenty-five years old, freshly graduated
from Starfleet Medical Academy and about to spend two weeks carousing
on Risa before accepting his post on Deep Space Nine, flicked on the
autopilot and grinned at nothing in particular. "Advise approximate
ETA on Risa."

"The ETA to planet Risa is approximately five hours fourteen minutes."

Julian hummed tunelessly under his breath as he stood up from the
pilot's chair and made his long legged and graceful way to the rear
of the shuttle. Once there, he flung himself across the bunk in a
tangle of lean limbs and looked over his selection of Risian
brochures one more time.

He smiled a little smugly to himself. He had worked hard at his
studies in this final year. He had done well. What's more, he had
been thrifty and it was paying off for him now. Not only had he pre-
paid for luxurious accommodation on Risa, he had also been able to
afford to rent the small runabout he was currently in, instead of
having to take the slow and crowded commercial flight. He had even
gone the extra few yards and taken insurance against mishap. A sign
of his new maturity.

His group of friends from the Academy were already on Risa, two days
ahead of him. Only God knew how Julian would locate them. Although he
had an idea that if he simply strolled into the seediest dive he
could find, there they'd be, sitting at the bar.

The only reason that he had stayed behind was in order to complete
the final Xeno-Psychology exam. It wasn't a course that many had
elected to do, since the subject matter was eclectic and often
contradictory.

Julian had enjoyed it. In many ways, he felt that he was eclectic and
contradictory too.

As the young man lay there, contemplating life, the universe, the
greater good and the chances of getting laid, he heard the alarm on
the cockpit console begin to chirp.

Puzzled and a little annoyed, Julian quickly got up and moved back
into the cockpit. He checked the console readout with a slight frown
creasing his forehead.

The scanners were picking up a build up of ionic storm activity in
the sector surrounding Risa.

"That's strange," Julian murmured aloud. His pre-flight route checks
had indicated that this sector usually had very little storm
activity. Just as a precaution, Julian scanned the sector for
possible safe havens. There were three M-class planetoids in the
area. They were listed as uninhabited, possibly because they were so
small. However, they were all easily within reach. If he had to, he
could set down on one and wait until the storm front had moved
through.

It really was most irritating. He was a healthy young Human on his
way to a fortnight-long session of debauchery. He *really* didn't
want to be late.

As he began entering the coordinates that would alter his heading
towards the nearest planetoid, the alarm system suddenly started
screeching.

Looking up at the view screen, Julian froze, a dull sense of horror
settling in his gut like lead.

The storm front, shimmering and silver and beautiful, but as deadly
as a tidal wave was suddenly there.

For an instant, the dispassionate part of his mind contemplated the
fact that he was witnessing a very rare phenomenon. Possibly a once
in a lifetime experience. Ionic particle storms hardly *ever* built
up that fast.

The inquisitive, scientific part of him wished he had the appropriate
recording equipment on board.

The rest of him, the part that was still just a young man, was simply
frightened.

He braced himself for the impact.

"Oh my God..."

That was the last thing Julian Bashir was aware of for quite some
time.

---
DEEP SPACE NINE: STATION'S INFIRMARY: STARDATE 50063.8
---

Sighing, Julian set aside the Padd he was working on and made his way
through the near silent infirmary. He was pleased to see that his few
overnight patients all appeared to be sleeping soundly.

He paused for a moment, just listening to the familiar sounds of his
place of work. They were comforting sounds, the nighttime sounds. The
soft hum and pip of various equipment. The low swishing of the air
filters. A soft snore. The shifting of a limb under cool, clean
sheets. The occasional nighttime flatulence. A sigh. A snort. A
whistle.

Julian's lips twitched slightly.

Humanoids made some *odd* noises when they slept.

He moved on, approaching the rear cubicle. As he leaned in the
doorway, he was not all that surprised to see Kyril looking back at
him somberly.

"Can't sleep?" Julian asked softly

"Much to think on."

"I can imagine." Julian moved into the room and perched comfortably
on the foot of the bed, one long leg bracing himself against the
floor.

"How come you left the planet?" Julian asked.

Kyril shrugged. "I was getting sick. Much of my equipment needed
replacing. I couldn't treat myself properly."

"Why didn't you head for Risa? It would have been closer."

"True. But I would be known on Risa. Too many Rutians there.
Besides..."

Julian smiled at him. "Yes?"

"I hoped that you would be here," Kyril said finally, "I knew you
would help me without..." He trailed off again.

"Without giving the game away?" Julian finished for him.

Kyril smiled back at him. "The terminology is unfamiliar, but the
content is correct."

Julian laughed softly. "You're handsome," he said suddenly.

"Am I?"

"Yes. I had imagined you would be. You *felt* like you should be."

"Would it have made a difference?"

Julian shook his head, his smile growing affectionate.

Kyril sighed. "I am glad."

They sat a while longer, each nursing their own thoughts.

"Julian?"

"Yes, Kyril?"

"*Will* you let me leave? Or will you do your duty?"

Julian looked at him calmly. "There are many level of duty, Kyril. I
have a chance to return a kindness to you." He shrugged. "Sometimes,
duty and honor war with one another."

"So that's how you see us? You and I? As an issue of honor?"

"In a way."

Kyril's eyes grew distant... softer. "It was more than that, Julian."

Julian met his gaze. "I know."

---
M-CLASS PLANETOID OUTSIDE RISIAN SPACE: 5 YEARS EARLIER.
---

He could not see.

It was the first thought that battered and clanged through his aching
head. It drowned out the pain in his back and shoulders, the feeling
that he'd just gone fifteen rounds with an angry Lurian. It drowned
out his hunger and thirst.

He could not see.

He moaned. An anguished, lost sound. Pitiful, even to his own ears.

"You are awake," a soft voice remarked from somewhere to his left.

"I can't see." He was shocked at the raspy sound of his own words.

"Yes, you can," the soft voice assured him. "You have flash burns to
that area of your face. I have bound your eyes in order to let them
heal properly."

"How can you be sure?"

//Please be sure, please be sure, please be sure, *please*…//

The owner of the soft voice gave a little laugh. "I used your own
scanning device. Your medical kit was well stocked. Are you a
physician?"

"Yes." He hesitated. "Well... no. Uhm, actually I *am* qualified, but
only just recently."

The gentle laugh came again. "What is your name?"

"Julian. Julian Bashir."

"Well, Julian. Your little ship crashed in my back garden, so to
speak," the voice explained, "I found you inside, unconscious. The
Console had blown."

"I see." Julian sighed, mentally accessing the information he would
need to direct this stranger towards assisting him. "How badly am I
hurt?"

"Not too bad. Some rather nasty bruises and scrapes... some mild
burns. Your regenerator device took care of the worst of it. You'll
ache, but you'll heal."

Julian became intrigued. "How did you know how to apply the
regenerator? Are you a doctor too?"

"No, Julian."

"Then..."

Another laugh. "I read the manual."

Julian found that the soft and gentle timbre of that voice was having
quite a soothing effect on him. He was safe. He absolutely believed
that. So now all that he needed was a name to go with the voice of
his rescuer.

"What is *your* name?" Julian asked him.

A pause. Julian waited while the silence stretched beyond
comfortable. Growing alarmed, he tried to sit up. "Are you still
there?"

Instantly a gentle palm pressed against his chest, holding him
down. "No, don't try. You are still very weak." The man sighed. "My
name is Kyril Finn."

"Well, thank you for helping me, Kyril."

Another pause. "That name is not familiar to you?"

"No. Should it be?"

"Not necessarily." Kyril sounded slightly relieved. "Would you like
something to eat, Julian?"

Those words reminded Julian instantly of the empty state of his
stomach. "Yes. Very much."

"Wait a moment then. I'll bring you something."

As his unseen benefactor moved away, Julian tried to take some stock
of his surroundings. The surface under him was soft, so he surmised
that he was lying on a bed or pallet. He felt around his immediate
area. The pallet was low, and he could feel the floor. It was hard
and cool to the touch.

Stone? A Cave?

In fact, the air around him was quite cool too. He assumed his guess
was fairly close.

Presently, he heard Kyril approaching again, the soft "thunk" of a
dish being placed on a nearby table or shelf. A strong but careful
arm lifted him, slipping under his shoulders and supporting him while
several rough fabric covered cushions were placed behind his back.
Kyril released him, and Julian felt the bed shift slightly as he sat
down.

A warm hand grabbed one of his own.

"Here." Kyril pressed a large mug into his palm, earthenware by the
feel of it. "It's soup. I thought it would be best for you to have
something easy to manage."

"Thank you." Julian's gratitude was entirely sincere. He'd just
caught a whiff of what was in the mug. It smelled very good.
Cautiously, he sipped it, smiled, and then drained the lot.

Kyril laughed delightedly. "You liked it?"

"Very much. What is it made from?"

"Are you really sure you want to know?" Kyril's tone was an odd mix,
half amused and half warning.

"I'm curious, yes. Will you tell me?"

"Unidentified rodent," Kyril answered. Julian could almost *hear* his
grin.

"I can live with that," Julian grinned in response, "May I have some
more please?"

---

"What are you doing?" Kyril asked from somewhere ahead of him.

"I'm trying to locate your toilet unit, if you must know," Julian
replied. He guessed he had made it out of the small room he woke in.
He'd found the entrance to it fairly easily by following the line of
the wall, guiding himself with one hand on the stone surface.

Kyril had told him that he was currently residing in a small network
of caves. He had found them shortly after his own arrival here and
had turned them into a comfortable residence; one that was secure
from the nighttime scavengers and offered shelter from the weather.

Julian had been here for three days now. He was feeling better. He
was also feeling his confinement.

"Why didn't you use the container I gave you?" Kyril asked him.

"Kyril," Julian replied, turning to the direction of his voice, "I
need to get up... start moving around. Bed rest can only be tolerated
for so long!"

A warm arm slipped around his waist. "Very well, let me show you
where..."

After Julian had attended to his business, Kyril continued leading
him through the small caves. As they passed through another room,
Julian felt the faint touch of a breeze on his face. Moving forward,
he felt the unmistakable warmth of sunlight on his face and hands. He
smiled broadly and vented an unfettered sigh of pleasure.

"Thank you, Kyril."

Kyril laughed softly. "You're welcome, Julian. You were right. You've
been in bed for too long. Now that you're mending, you need to be
moving around more."

"How is the emitter coming along?" Julian asked suddenly. He was
getting a bit concerned about that. The distress signal emitter had
been damaged in the crash. Kyril had done his best to repair it, but
with mixed success. Right now, about the best they were getting was a
low and fluctuating signal that may or may not be picked up by
passing traffic.

Kyril sighed. "I'm still adjusting it, but at least it's broadcasting
*something* now. Don't worry Julian, we'll get you rescued."

Julian groped for Kyril's hand, found it and squeezed gently. "I've
already been rescued, Kyril. Now I just need to get home."

"You will, Julian," Kyril assured him.

"And will you disappear when whoever it is comes to collect me?"

He felt Kyril tense up suddenly. "Why would you say that?"

"Because no man would live alone like this if he wanted the company
of other people," Julian replied. "I gather that you prefer to be
alone. If that's the case, I will respect it. I will explain that I
was helped, but that is all. I won't let people bother you, Kyril."

After what seemed like an eternity, Kyril spoke. "You are wrong about
me, Julian," he said softly, his voice low and etched with
pain. "Sometimes I miss the company of other people very much. But...
I have made choices in my life that were poor of judgment and
unfortunate of result. I have to live with those choices now... and
yes, I *would* appreciate your help in remaining undetected here."

Julian squeezed his hand again. "You are running away?"

"No, Julian. I am *staying* away."

---
DEEP SPACE NINE: STATION'S INFIRMARY: STARDATE 50063.9
---

"I didn't really understand what you meant by that, Kyril," Julian
said, as he leaned over to check the Rutian's improving
condition, "about staying away. I do now of course, but back then, it
just made me sad for you."

"And now?"

"Now? I'm *still* sad for you. You've given yourself a far harsher
punishment than the Federation would have."

"I deserved it," Kyril sighed. "How long was it before you found out?"

"About who you really are?"

"Yes."

"Not long. Once the infirmary on Risa released me, I looked you up in
the Federation database." Julian smiled wryly. "It made very
interesting reading. I learned all about you while I was being
shipped out here to DS9."

Kyril looked away for a moment. "And what did you think?"

"I found it difficult to reconcile those records with what *I* knew
you to be."

Kyril smiled sadly. "What *you* knew me to be?"

"Yes. Gentle. Compassionate. Decent." Julian paused. "You were my
first man, did you know that?"

"Yes," Kyril whispered.

Their eyes met. Locked. Held.

---
M-CLASS PLANETOID OUTSIDE RISIAN SPACE: 5 YEARS EARLIER.
---

"Ah, something smells very good!" Julian made his careful way in
Kyril's living area. "More unidentified rodent?"

Kyril's laughter greeted him. "Oh yes. A stew this time, tempered
with a few of the local vegetables."

Julian reached the far wall and sank down onto the pile of mats and
cushions that designated Kyril's sitting area. He reached out and
felt for the low table, reinforcing its proximity to him for later on.

As he sat talking to his host while he prepared their meal, Julian
pondered the man.

He had been here on the planetoid, in Kyril's home, for five days
now. He knew that logically, he ought to be worried, frightened,
perhaps even disappointed that his last few days of pre-posting
freedom were being spent like this. But he wasn't.

Kyril had told him that help was coming. He had told him that his
eyes would be fine, and he believed him. It was something in his
voice, in his kind and thoughtful manner. Julian realized that he was
*far* from disappointed to be spending time alone in the company of
someone like Kyril Finn.

Julian had never been gender specific when it came to romantic
relationships. Of course, he hadn't had many if any experiences with
other men, but that was not so much choice as lack of opportunity.

He had been a busy young man for a long time now.

He shifted a little closer to the table as he heard Kyril cross
towards him and set their bowls down. He felt Kyril sit down beside
him.

"Here." Kyril pressed a fork into his hand.

"Thanks." Julian smiled and tucked in. He ate carefully, mindful of
making a mess.

They ate in companionable silence for a while. Julian finished and
sat back, sighing happily. "You know, you're a very good cook."

Kyril laughed. "Needs must, Julian. I had no choice but to learn."

"I'm impressed, you know, by how comfortable you've made yourself
here."

"I'm used to it now. There are times when I find myself thinking that
solitude is the only way to be. It's easier for one thing."

Julian turned his face towards that voice, feeling a little
awkward. "I'm sorry if I've caused you trouble, Kyril."

Kyril clasped his hand. "Julian, I didn't mean *you*. I've enjoyed
your company. You are *easy* to tolerate."

"You'd have to be the first person to ever say that, Kyril," Julian
sighed.

"Truly?" Kyril sounded perplexed.

"Yes, I'm afraid that in general, I rather irritate people. I'm
too `keen and eager', or so I'm told." He smiled a little sadly. "I
think even my friends wish I would just disappear sometimes."

"I would say that your friends have judged you poorly."

Julian shrugged. "They have a point. Sometimes it's difficult for me
to contain my enthusiasm."

"You're young, Julian. Believe me, you will grow out of that soon
enough... and you'll be sorry for it too." Kyril's tone was deeply
regretful. Silence descended for a while.

"Kyril?" Julian asked finally. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, just pondering."

Julian shifted amongst the cushions, settling into a more comfortable
position. As he moved around, he accidentally pressed up against
Kyril's side and was both surprised and pleased when he felt the
older man put his arm about his shoulders.

"Do you mind?" Kyril asked him softly.

"No," Julian relaxed against him. "It's nice. I haven't been held for
a long time." A simple statement. A painful one, too.

"Neither have I, Julian," Kyril whispered.

Julian raised his head at the sound of that whisper. It struck at his
heart, the loneliness of it. The wistfulness. The sorrow.

Without really considering the possible response, Julian raised his
hand, reaching up until he found Kyril's face. Inquisitive, gentle
fingertips followed the edge of his jaw, noting that Kyril needed a
shave, before moving up over his smooth brow and finally sinking into
his long, thick and surprisingly soft hair.

Kyril was very definitely similar to a Human, Julian realized, and he
also felt very, very good to touch.

He could feel a slight tremor shuddering through Kyril's body. He
could feel his hesitation and his rising heat.

Taking the moment and damning the rest, Julian curled his fingers
around the back of Kyril's neck, pulled his face down and kissed him.

---
DEEP SPACE NINE: STATION'S INFIRMARY: STARDATE 50063.9
---

Julian looked into Kyril's eyes, seeing the wealth of feelings that
were mirrored there. Shades of affection and warmth, tempered by
weary regret and sorrow.

He *was* handsome, Julian thought again as he watched his patient
fight against sleep.

A good strong featured face. Expressive eyes, full mouth. A classical
face, such as one might find in the ancient art works of Earth's
Baroque period.

It had been an odd feeling, Julian reflected, making love to someone
that he'd never actually seen. He hadn't really *needed* to see him
though. The tactile experience had been simply remarkable. A strange
dichotomy of sensation to lie down with another man.

Kyril's hair and lips and the skin on his neck had been as soft as
any woman's. Yet there, the similarities had ended.

His questing hands, though gentle, had been calloused, evidence of
Kyril's hard work in building and maintaining his life on the
planetoid. Julian had found that he enjoyed the feel of those work-
hardened hands over his own skin very much indeed.

There had been less give, less submission, in Kyril's kisses. Kissing
him had been oddly like a gentle game of "establish one's dominance".
To this day, Julian remembered it as a draw.

Kyril's nakedness against his own had forged a powerful rush of
arousal in him. So different in his arms, yet so familiar. A body
just like his own. Flat chested, slim hipped, firm in all the wrong
places.

It had been wonderful.

They came together, only seconds apart, during that first and last
time. Lean legs tangled about each other, hot faces pressed into damp
necks, harsh shouts of completion muffled against firm flesh. Strong
hands gripping broad and sweaty shoulders...

Sighing, Julian caught Kyril's eyes again. Suddenly, on a feeling of
whimsy, he laughed.

"What?" Kyril's eyebrow arched.

"How *did* you manage to dress me and carry me all the way back to
the runabout without my waking up?"

"You were dead to the world, Julian. You were still recovering, and I
suppose I wore you out."

Memories. Sharp and sweet, tinged with sorrow. Feelings in his chest.
Sensations echoing across his skin. No... sight had not been needed
then.

"Yes you did." Julian murmured. "So, I'm guessing that *sometime*
during the night you returned to the runabout, checked the signal
emitter..."

"And realized help was coming for you, yes," Kyril finished for him.

"The next thing I knew, I was back in my uniform being shaken awake
by a Risian medic."

Kyril simply looked at him, his dark eyes unfathomable.

"They kept saying how remarkable they thought I was," Julian
continued.

"Oh?"

"Oh yes. They thought it was amazing how I had managed to treat my
injuries and conduct repairs on the signal emitter, all with my eyes
bound up."

"So, what did you tell them?"

Julian grinned. "I told them I'd always had a very good memory."

Kyril laughed.

Julian sobered suddenly. "I thought I'd done something wrong at
first," he said softly. "I thought I'd offended you. Upset you. You
just brought me to the runabout and left me. No goodbye."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I just... I panicked. I didn't
want to be found."

"I know. I understood as soon as I knew who Kyril Finn really was."
Julian smiled again. "In fact, *I* felt pretty guilty myself."

"Why?"

"Because you were alone. Because I *left* you alone. I hated the idea
that the fact that we made love that night might have made your
loneliness all the more profound."

Kyril reached out and took his hand. "It didn't Julian. Far from it.
My memories of you often sustained me. It made it better."

Julian nodded and stood up, releasing Kyril's hand. "Get some sleep,
Kyril. I'll be releasing you tomorrow." He turned to the door.

"Julian?"

"Yes?" Julian turned back.

"Are you well? Are you happy? I'd like to know."

Julian smiled, thinking of his life now. His work, his friends, his
always intriguing, often vexing and altogether irresistible lover.
"Yes Kyril. I'm *very* happy."

Kyril smiled back at him, gave a soft sigh and closed his eyes.

---
CHIEF MEDICAL OFFICER'S PATIENT RELEASE FORM: STARDATE 50064.6
---

CONDITION: Fully recovered from complications arising from accidental
ingestion of toxic substance. No danger of cross infection present.
Recommend immediate release.

CURRENT EMPLOYMENT STAT:   Undisclosed

RESIDENTIAL ADDRESS:       Undisclosed

NAME:     Undisclosed

AGE:......Undisclosed

SEX:......Male

RACE:.....Undisclosed. Possible mixed heritage.


Julian entered the final few details, pressed "transmit", logged off
his station and quietly left his office.

On the way through the Infirmary, he passed Doctor Looli, his Bolian
locum. Giving him a warm smile and a soft greeting, Julian stifled a
yawn and wearily left his place of work, heading for some much needed
down time.

There were many transients that passed through Deep Space Nine.
Dozens every day. Some needed medical treatment. Not many wanted to
divulge their details to a Federation officer. It made no difference
to Julian. He greeted them, treated them and sent them on their merry
way.

One more would not be remarkable.

As Julian exited the turbo lift onto the habitat ring, he cast a
quick look out on the recessed view ports.

Somewhere out there, a battered little runabout was making its way
home again.

Julian hoped that its pilot would be OK.

Sighing, he turned his thoughts to what lay in his own immediate
future. Tonight, he would have a good meal in good company. Perhaps
he would join his friends at Quark's for a while, to swap stories and
laugh at life. Then, he would return home with his lover and happily
head for bed.

Later, in the warmth and darkness of their bedroom, somewhere between
waking and dreaming, Julian's thoughts would turn to someone he once
knew. He would reach out and touch the warm body next to him, drawing
comfort from his closeness and giving thanks for the life that was
his. His heart would ache a little at the thought of the other, alone
and destined to remain that way.

He would never forget him.

Somehow, Julian got the feeling that, for Kyril, that would be enough.

---

The End