Experiments - DS9 (Garak)

[BookQ36]

Hello all! Long-time lurker here finally posting a fic with my current fave pairing: Garashir. Was Garak put through a hell of a lot in late season 5? Yes, yes he was, but he never sneezed, and I just had to fix that. Reviews are welcome and much appreciated!! Okay, that's enough foreplay, let's get on with the main event 😉

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Garak hadn’t known that the Founders experimented on their prisoners, but he couldn’t truly claim to be surprised. It was certainly unwelcome when their captors strapped him down to an exam table and shoved some kind of powdery, two-pronged plant stalk into his nostrils. He had just enough time to note that the plant was one he did not recognize, and then he was overwhelmed by the most intense and unpleasant sensations of invasion and wrong and itching-tickling-burning which he had ever had the misfortune of experiencing. “HAhhh...  hahh...” Garak’s breath raced, his chest heaved, his nose was on fire, and with a sudden instinctive desperation, he tried to lean back, to get away from the plant, but his head was held in place. “Uhh-HAAh!” Garak’s eyes watered and he gasped helplessly as the stalk probed even further, wriggling deep inside his nose and mercilessly tickling-ticklingtickling all the way into his sinuses, until all he could do was pant and groan like some dumb animal. “hhhhh… HhUhhhh! Ugh… AhhHAHH!” The Vorta moved the stalk slightly to one side, and that motion awoke an overpowering urge to empty his nose. It was like nothing Garak had ever felt before. The feeling overrode all sense, all reason, and made him gasp. “UHH-HAAhhh…” Garak suddenly knew that he had to empty his nose or he would go completely mad. The feeling of burning itches swelled, then, frustratingly, it hovered just behind his eyes. “Uhh-Hhuuhh-HYEUH!!” It wouldn’t build to a peak. It was an itch he couldn’t scratch. His eyes watered, he gasped for breath and uselessly pulled against the restraints, his hands twitching of their own accord. “Hhhh…hhaahhnHAAhhh!” Garak’s entire head prickled and throbbed, he couldn’t even think, and that was nearly as intolerable as the itches themselves. Soon enough, his poor nose could simply take no more and he sneezed. “GAAHGCHiiiEEW! AAHCHiieW! Uhhh-hAahh-HAAHCHiieW!” Once he started, he couldn’t stop. Garak lay there curling upwards against the straps with each desperate sneeze and then falling back against the table until the urge reached another peak. “Haaa-AHCHiisshuu! ARGHHCHiisshuu! AACHIISHH!” The Vorta discarded the plant and lamented another failed test, then Garak was unstrapped and dragged away by a pair of Jem’Hadar, still sneezing helplessly. “ACHISSHIU! AHHCHiisshuu!” He could barely breathe, let alone open his eyes long enough to see where they were taking him. He almost didn’t care. Garak could only sneeze. “HAACHIISHH!” And sneeze. “AACHIIEW!” And sneeze some more. “ACHIISHH!” Garak was exhausted and gasping for air, but he couldn’t pull in enough breath to power the next fit of sneezes, so his trembling nose convulsed with a rapid, breathy fit. “iTChishiTChishiTChishiTChish!!” They were unbearably itchy sneezes which burst out of him one after another, with no possibility of being suppressed or even time to breathe in between. The horrible itching tickle had taken root deep in his sinuses, and it would not be satisfied by the tiny, breathless sneezes which were too weak to be even a little bit satisfying. “iTChishiTChishiTChishiTChishi!!” His nose streamed and twitched, fully overwhelmed as he gasped for air open mouthed. “HAAhAashishITCHSH!” Suddenly, he was shoved forward and the supporting arms were gone. Garak experienced a few moments of fear as he fell, then all the breath was driven from his lungs as he collapsed on the floor. He lay where he fell, curling in on himself as he coughed and fought for air, as his impact had disturbed some dust. “Haaah… AAHhhh…!”  His head spun, and he absently wondered where he was.

 

“Oh my god! Garak!”

 

The relief he felt at hearing Julian’s voice was immeasurable. His sweet stubborn Julian. “ARGHHCHiisshuu! AACHIISHH!”  He didn’t know how, but Julian would help him. His dear doctor would take care of him. “Uhhh-hAahh-HAAHCHiieW!  AAHCHiieW! Haaa-AHCHiisshuu! GAAHGCHiiisshuuuh!” Many things in the universe were uncertain, but he knew that could always rely on Julian. He knew it in his bones.

 

“HAAHH!!-..." he exhaled desperately. The uncontrollable itch! Sneeze! "HHAAACHISSHIU!!"  He had to sneeze! "HHAACHIIEW!!"  Sneeze again! "HHAAT-KHIIEESCHiEW!” Again! "HAA-AAHCHHiiSSHU!!" His nose still wasn’t satisfied. It burned and pulsed with the most maddening sensations which he had ever experienced. Garak caught his breath just long enough to let out an exhausted moan, and then he sneezed like his life depended on it.“GAAHGCHiiiEEW! AAHCHiieW! Uhhh-hAahh-HAAHCHiieW!”

 

Worf growled. “What did they do to him?”

 

Was the commander angry on his behalf? That was a welcome surprise. The continued urge to sneeze as though his life depended on it was neither a surprise nor was it welcome. “ACHISSHIU! AHHCHiisshuu!”

 

“I don’t know. This looks like plant matter on his shirt, and… it’s all over his face, too. Martok, let’s try to get him comfortable. Worf, I don’t want you aggravating your injuries, but if you want to help, clear off a cot and then get me clean cloths and water. We need to get this substance off of him immediately!” The urgency in Julian’s voice was a balm to Garak’s own nerves, as he knew it meant that his dear doctor would not rest until he had done everything possible to help. It was strange, really. Here he was in a Dominion prison camp, all but blind and utterly incapable of breathing properly, but Garak felt safe as Martok and his stubborn Federaji doctor picked him up and helped him to a cot. “Ahh… aahh-AHCHIEW! HAATChissh-TChissh-TChissh-TChissh-TChisshiew!! HAATChissh-TChissh-TChissh-TChisshiew!”

 

He was guided to sit down, leaning half against the wall and half against Julian’s chest. Julian kept one arm around his back, supporting and holding him steady. A wet cloth passed over his face, unexpectedly cooling his overheated skin, and he jerked in surprise. “I’m just cleaning you off, Elim. Was it a plant?” He managed to nod in answer, and tried to furnish some details, but his nose wouldn’t stop burning and the urge overcame him. “N-nuhHUHCHISSieW! HAACHIIEW!! AHHCHIIEW!!” Speaking was out of the question. His head spun. He panted for breath and held back a groan as Julian held him upright. The doctor wiped off Garak’s face with a soft cloth, being unbearably tender in his ministrations. Shameful though it was, Garak wanted to melt into the affectionate care, but they were not alone. Needing to be coddled like a small child was bad enough, but the fact that two Klingons were watching made it even worse. They were momentary allies, but he didn’t want them to be privy to his current predicament. He flicked his eyes at the Klingons, and sent Julian a pleading look. Fortunately, his dear doctor understood. “Martok, Worf, a bit of privacy, if you please? I will let you know it we require assistance.”

 

Martok spoke from nearby. “We’ll leave you to tend him, Doctor.” They nodded and moved away, and Garak felt himself relax incrementally as he heard their footsteps recede. Julian pressed a furtive kiss to Garak’s hair, and Garak sighed despite himself. He knew Julian would make it better. Dearest, darling Julian. As though to prove his dreadful sentimentality wrong, the cloth suddenly swiped over his wretched, over-sensitized nose, which twitched violently in response, and he gasped in a ragged breath quite against his will. “AHhhahh…” Garak was so very tired of sneezing, but unfortunately, his nose was the one in charge, and it was terribly unhappy with the treatment which it had received. “ HAACHIIEW!! AHHCHIIEW!!””  It burned and throbbed and itched itched itched, and the urge to empty his nose was so strong that it just might drive him mad, but Garak didn’t know how to clear his nose, and he couldn’t remember ever having experienced this sort of thing before, so he was stuck with the tickles and itches and sneezes. “GAACHIIEW! AACHIISHH! Ahhh-HAH-GAHCHiiSSHH!” Those brought barely any relief, and Garak shuddered against Julian with hitching breaths as the urge built to a peak again. “Uhhh… hahhh…! AAAH-!” When his sore, trembling nose could stand no more, Garak clutched at Julian’s uniform, trying to steady himself as the wrenching fit bent him in half. “ACHISSHIU! GAAHGCHiiisshuuh! Aashish! AhChhiuu!”

 

“I’m wiping off the irritant, try to hold still if you can.” Garak’s senses reeled as Julian wiped the cloth over his itching, flaring nostrils, teasing him in a most intolerable manner. “aahhh-Hahhh…” Garak tried to be still. He really, truly tried, but he couldn’t hold still when Julian stuck part of the cloth into his nose and swiped it across the tender inner tissues. “HHaahhh-AHH!” It was too much, far too much sensation for his poor burning nose to endure for a moment longer, and he reared back with a wheezing gasp. “iuHAAHH-HAACHIISHH!” Garak was profoundly ashamed of his inability to follow simple instructions as he clung to Julian and sneezed desperately into the man’s chest, all but convulsing with the fit. “AACHISHH!” Garak couldn’t think or breathe. Garak just sneezed. “GAACHIIEW!” And sneezed. “AACHIISHH!” And sneezed some more. “Ahhh-HAH-GAHCHiiSSHH! ACHISSHIU!” The urge didn’t lessen in the slightest. “GAAHGCHiiisshuuh!” He simply couldn’t stop. “Aashish! Aashish! CHish!” Garak shook in Julian’s arms as breathless, convulsive explosions tore out of him one after the other, much too fast for him to breathe in between, and he felt quite lightheaded. “gAhChhiuu! AChhshAChhsh-AChhshAChhsh-AChhsh!” The small, exhausted sneezes were itchy and unsatisfying, and consequently, they came in great numbers. “AChhshAChhsh-AAChhshAChhsh! AChhsh!” Garak did not consider that to be at all helpful.

 

Julian pressed something to his face. It was soft and dry and, oh yes, thank you my dear, most kind. Garak eagerly buried his irritated, streaming nose in the cloth. Julian held the cloth for him and used it to gently massage his tender, itchy nostrils until the overwhelming urge started to ease. Garak let out a relieved sigh. His own hands dropped to his lap while Julian tended to his poor, irritated nose, pressing and wiping in a most soothing manner. Garak was thrilled to find that his Human was rather good at this, and he sagged against his partner breathlessly as the urge finally backed off. “Ugh… Thak you, dear.”

 

Julian tenderly stroked his hair while Garak tried to catch his breath. “You did very well. That was a good job of holding back for so long. I managed to get most of it out.” The dear man pressed a kiss just behind Garak’s ear, a spot that always made Garak shudder with pleasure, and then cuddled him close. “I’m so sorry, Elim. Getting rid of the irritant is step one in stopping your reaction, and there was quite a lot of pollen in your poor nose. It must itch so dreadfully.” Garak whined and nodded in answer, which earned him another kiss. He sniffled, and Julian wasted no time in rubbing away the burgeoning urge to sneeze. “Let’s see what I can do to help with that, hmmm?” The urge subsided as he gently tended Garak’s nose and pressed kisses into his hair, chattering soothing nonsense all the while. “Just rest, and I’ll give you a chance to get your breath back. Have you ever been quiet for this long, darling? I don’t think you have. Of course, you’re not exactly well at the moment, so we must take that into account…”

 

Garak wanted to sit there indefinitely, listening to him ramble. Julian’s body heat was warming him, even through all their layers of clothing, and the man kept making fond, worried sounds between soft, warm kisses. It was lovely. Naturally, that was when the urge returned. Garak groaned as his breath hitched. Julian tried to calm the burning tickles, but they were beyond even his skills. These were much too intense to be fended off, and Garak allowed himself a groan. He wanted to be done. He wanted to be back home on DS9, arguing about literature. Garak brought the cloth up to his face just in time. “AHHCHiisshuu! HATChissh-TChissh-TChissh-TChissh!!” He fitfully rubbed at his nose, hoping for some relief, but the wretched feeling remained unsatisfied. “AACHIISH! CHISHH-CHIEW!” This was more intense and unpleasant than he had thought possible, and it showed no signs of stopping. “D-doctor, I… I… hehhhlp?” His eyes rolled back in his head as the burning itches stole his breath, making him gasp helplessly. “Ahhh-HAH-GAHCHiiSSHH!” The urge to empty his nose was intolerable, and Garak gasped for breath as another rapid sneezing fit took hold. “HAATChissh-TChissh-TChissh-TChissh-TChisshiew!”

 

He couldn’t stop himself from lurching forward in a most undignified fashion as his respiratory system tried in vain to rid itself of the irritant. “AHCHiisshuu!” He tried, of course, to reduce the maddening itches which seemed to pervade his entire being, but no matter what he did, the sneezes kept coming. “AHHCHiisshuu! TChissh-TChissh-TChissh-TChissh!!” Julian’s arms wrapped around Garak, supporting him and providing some comfort while he shook with the unending fit. “AACHIIEW!” Garak wrinkled, swiped, scrubbed, pressed, squeezed and rubbed at his nose with the wonderfully absorbent cloth, but nothing quelled the abominable itching deep in his sinuses. “AHHCHiisshuu!” Each sneeze granted him a modicum of relief from the relentless, throbbing tingle which had rooted itself just behind his eyes, but then the feeling would swell, his breath would race beyond his control, his jaw would go lax, and he would explode again. And again. “Ahhh-haahh-AHCHiisshuu! AhChhiuu!” Garak hadn’t been this utterly helpless in years, and it brought his paranoia to the fore. “AACHISSHHIEW! ACHisshu! Aashish” If there was a threat, he likely wouldn’t know until it was too late. The Jem’Hadar could come into the holding area and open fire, killing Julian and everyone else while Garak sat immobilized by something as small and insignificant as an itch in his nose. The thought of Julian being hurt because of him was intolerable.

 

“Bless you, Elim.” The tenderness in Julian’s voice was enough to undo him, and Garak found himself curling closer to the stubborn Federaji doctor with a grateful whine as he was overcome again. “Uhhh-hAahh-HAAHCHiieW!  Haaa-AHCHiisshuu!  GAAHGCHiiisshuuuh!” Garak spent a few precious moments gasping for air, during which time he kept his eyes closed and clung to Julian, soaking up the man’s warmth. The Order and Tain had taught him from the age of seven that such a lack of control was inexcusable, and a prolonged period of allowing himself to be vulnerable was simply unacceptable. Not so Julian. Dearest, darling Julian stroked his hair back, and Garak, hypoxic as he was, all but melted into his hand. He wanted Julian’s magic touch to calm the itches again, but he couldn’t get enough breath to speak half as coherently as he wanted to. “I caahhh-Aashish AhChhiuu! AChhshAChhshAChhshAChhsh! Can’t breathe. Dizzy. So iihhiih-itchy. Heh-heehlp me? RR-rub itches aw-ahhChhishh? Away?”

 

“Of course.” The dear man held him close and massaged a cloth over his wildly itching nose, murmuring soft reassurances as he firmly rubbed and soothed the tickles out of his sore, spasming nostrils.  “I’ll take care of those nasty itches for you, my darling Elim.” Garak melted at that. “You just rest while you can. Try to get your breath back, and I’ll look after you and your poor, itching nose, hmm?”

 

“Yes, love.” Garak leaned bonelessly against his dear doctor, focusing all his attention on breathing, per said doctor’s orders. “Julian…” He sniffled wretchedly. “The itches, I can’t. They’re intolerable.”

 

“I know. Did they put the plant up your nose?” Garak nodded, and Julian went on. “They’ve done the same to other prisoners. I believe that they may be developing a bioweapon for use on the Alpha quadrant.” Julian’s hand never stopped moving, deftly rubbing, wiping and pressing with the cloth. He soothed away the urge to empty, expel. “Try to sleep, Elim. I’m here.” Garak rested against his beloved and relaxed.

 

 

Garak must have dozed off for a time. He awoke to the itch and scrubbed at his nose, irritating the already tender scales, and whined low in his throat as his breath caught again. This time, he was ready. This time, he would. Not. Sneeze. He clamped his nose firmly shut as his breath raced away from him. “AAhh-haah-AXGNTeuh!” The resulting expulsion was strangled, unsatisfying and unbearably itchy, but he was stubborn. “Aahh-HAACHMPPT!!” He was strong. “HahhAAGXMPHH!” He was going to kill that fucking Vorta if it was the last thing he did. “AHH-HAAGMPHHuhh!!” And if his head didn’t explode first.

 

“You’ll only hurt yourself trying to suppress them, and I don’t have the supplies needed to treat you here if you rupture part of your upper respiratory tract.” Julian rubbed at his back, and Garak blearily wondered why the good doctor sounded so distant, when they were sitting so close. Garak allowed himself a soft moan, his breath hitching again with the undeniable need to sneeze. “JuliEhhh-Hehh…! Ahhh-HAACHMPPT!!”  His head throbbed with each suppressed expulsion, his eyes itched, and his nose burned with urgent tickles that robbed him of all sense. “Ahhh-HAACHMPPT!!”

 

Julian continued supporting him as he fought for breath. “It’s okay, Elim. This will reaction will pass in time, but you’re going to rupture something if you keep that up. You need to stop holding them back!” Garak shook his head, unable to reply though wildly hitching breaths. Julian gently tried to loosen the vice-grip that Garak had on his burning, spasming nose. “Stop stifling, you bloody stubborn gecko!!”

 

The bizarre insult took him by surprise long enough for Julian to force Garak’s hands away from his face. With the cloth gone, a slight breeze tickled against his damp nostrils, and the result was both immediate and intense. The itch spiked, he took a desperate inhale and folded in half with a truly vicious fit. “AAH-HAAGCHAHH-CHiisshuu! CHISSHHIEW!! TChissh-TChissh-TChissh-TChissh-TChissh-TChissh!!” They came too fast for him to breathe in between, and hardly seemed to satisfy the tickling at all. “Uhhh-hahh-AAHCHiieW! AHCHiiSssH!” Garak’s nose dripped and itched as he panted. He felt terribly exposed, and he dearly wished to have the cloth back. “GAAHCHiiisshuuh! HATCHiiSH! AAHCHiisshuu!” He shook with the onslaught, exhausted and frustrated and barely holding on to consciousness. “HAAHCHiieW! AHChhiuu! AACHiisshuu!” Julian pressed a fresh cloth to his nose, and Garak nuzzled into it with pathetic gratitude. It didn’t stop the  burning tickles, but being able to dry his streaming nose certainly helped somewhat. “ARGHHCHiisshuu! AACHIISHH!” The cloth also afforded him a bit of privacy which he had certainly missed.

 

Julian held the cloth for him again, once more gently massaging the itches into submission. Garak sagged against his partner breathlessly. “Ughh…” Julian’s ministrations weren’t quite enough to banish the festering tickles altogether, but the good doctor did manage to subdue them to a more tolerable level, for which Garak was most grateful. “Garak, can you hear me?” He nodded in answer, taking full advantage of the opportunity to catch his breath. “I know you’re very tired and short of breath, but you need to clear out the irritant. Once we clear your airways, the reaction should become less intense.”

 

Garak forced his eyes open and tried to focus. “How?” The question sounded strangled, and forcing that single word out caused a most unpleasant buzz in his sinuses. “ACHiieW! AACHiieW! CHISSHHIEW!!”

 

“I will hold the cloth in place for you, and when you have enough breath, you will close your mouth and exhale as forcefully as you can while I hold one side of your nose shut. We will clear your left nostril, and then your right, and that should make things a bit less itchy. If necessary, I can try nasal irrigation to flush out any remaining particulates from your respiratory tract, but given the state of our accommodations, I’d prefer to leave that as a last resort.”

 

Garak was ashamed. He would never admit it, of course, except perhaps to Julian, but he was ashamed. Cardassians only had this reaction very rarely, and then, only in times of great stress. “AAHCHiieW! GAAHCHiiisshuuuh!” He supposed that being in a Dominion internment camp counted as moderate stress. “AACHIISHH! AHCHiisshu!” The war was a source of some unease, as well, and the revelation that the Julian who had been sharing a bed with him for some time was actually a Changeling had been less than welcome, “TChissh-TChissh-TChissh-TChissh-TChissh!” but really, he hadn’t been under what he considered to be great stress. “AACHiiEW! GAHChhieW!! ARGHHCHiisshuu!” As a result of his inexperience, he was not well practiced at clearing his nasal passages or at calming sneezy noses.

 

Julian positioned the cloth over his nose and held the right side shut. They shared a look, then Garak gathered his breath, nodded at Julian, and exhaled as best he could. Something shifted in his sinuses, a blockage which he had only been dimly aware of as generalized pressure, and he expelled something into his cloth. Afterwards, the itch was greatly reduced on that side, so he blew again, clearing more of the substance from his airways, and gave a relieved sigh afterwards. It helped more than he had anticipated. The deep-seated itch was nearly lessened by half just from clearing one side, and Garak gave a pleased hum. If clearing the other side had the same effect, he estimated that the tickle might be reduced by more than half. “Mmmm.”

 

Julian’s worried hazel eyes peered down at him. “Did that help?” Garak nodded, too exhausted and breathless to speak, and Julian gave a sigh of relief at the confirmation. “I’m glad. Shall we clear the other side?” He nodded wordlessly in answer to Julian’s query and took a quick breath. Julian obliged by shifting his hand to repeat the process on the other side, then they shared a look and Garak cleared the right side. All the while, Julian supported his weight and rubbed a hand over his back, murmuring reassurances and encouragements. It was a sentimental gesture, but soothing, and therefore, quite welcome under the present circumstances. Julian was so wonderfully warm, so kindhearted. Garak still didn’t understand what the man saw in him, but whatever it was, Garak counted himself lucky. Garak cleared his right airway a second, and then a third time. There were a few moments of relief, where the urge to clear himself out seemed to be satisfied, and Garak was content, but then his nose pricked.

 

He sniffled into the cloth with a groan, wiping at his dripping, itching nose as his breath hitched. “Ahhh-HAAhh…! Hhhhahh..! UGH.” The feeling died down slightly, not quite enough to make him sneeze, and he pressed himself closer, trying to burrow into Julian’s glorious warmth. “Dearest…” His voice came out as a reedy croak. “I…” He didn’t know what, if anything he was trying to express beyond misery, fatigue and love, so he simply trailed off with a tired sniffle, but somehow Julian understood.

 

“I know, Elim.” Julian ran a tender hand through his hair, which had become quite disheveled. “I’m right here for you, love. Please don’t hold back again. Try to sneeze out those wretched tickles if you can.”

 

Garak snuffled his twitching nose into the cloth, hoping to satisfy it that way, but a loose thread tickled him, and the opposite result occurred. His breath raced and he pitched forward in a rapid flurry of sneezes. “Tchish-ITChish-TChish-TChish! Ahhh-HAAhh…! Hhhhahh!” the feeling hovered for a few agonizing moments, teasing him until Julian massaged his tender, swollen, unsatisfied nose, and coaxed out a vicious, relieving fit. “AAH-HAACHAHCHiisshuu! AAAhCHiisshiew! GAAH… AhhhhYAAChhieW!!” Garak rested his head against his beloved’s chest, gasping and sniffling while his breathing steadied again.

 

“Bless you, love.” Julian wiped off his face and kissed his chufa. Garak’s only response was a sniffle and a low whine at the frankly glorious tenderness that he was being shown. It was overwhelming. Had he been feeling better, he would have wanted to flip them over on the cot and celebrate a long overdue reunion, Klingon, Romulan and Breen spectators be damned. As it was, all Garak wanted to do was catch his breath, blow his nose and then sleep for a standard day. “Okay, let’s try clearing your airways again.” He nodded and they repeated the process from before, and the burning itches died down by half again. Blowing his nose did have the unfortunate effect of making it tickle directly afterward, but this time Julian anticipated that reaction and expertly rubbed the tickles away. Garak let out a relieved breath as the urge faded to near inexistence. His pushed his nose against Julian’s hand, seeking more pressure to keep the wretched itches away, and Julian, his lovely, brilliant Julian did just that.

 

“Is it helping?” He nodded with a breathless whine and sniffled into the cloth again. Julian stroked his neck ridges in response and pressed a kiss to his temple, whispering, “You’re doing so well, Elim. The reaction is becoming less severe, and the intervals between fits are becoming longer. The reaction should fully die down in a few hours, and it’ll be easier to weather if you’re asleep. I’m sure you’re tired.”

 

Garak nodded and fumbled for his beloved’s hand, intertwining their fingers in a frankly intimate fashion for outside the bedroom and boldly holding their joined hands over his heart. “I love you, dearest.”

 

Julian chuckled. “And I you, but we can plan our wedding later. Right now, my sneezy crocodile, you need to sleep.”

 

“Mmmm.” His eyes had been closed for quite some time, and he didn’t see the point in trying to open them. Garak hadn’t been this content in weeks, but now he had his Doctor back. Not some cheap copy, his real Doctor. They would escape together, they would go home, and Tain would fade into memory. Julian was his future. “Thirsty.”

 

“Of course. It’s not rokassa juice, but it should slake your thirst.”

 

He didn’t relax his hold on Julian, pressing his cheek to the man’s chest and murmuring. “Best doctor in Starfleet.”

 

“I don’t know about that…”

 

“You are. My brilliant, strong, stubborn Julian. That imposter couldn’t compare. He was a cheap copy. We knew. Took us far too long to realize, but we all knew something was wrong.” Garak raised Julian’s hand and kissed each knuckle in turn. “I’m so glad that you’re alive. So glad we found you, even though we had no idea you would be here.” Garak squeezed him tighter for a moment, feeling the lean body and taking note of how much muscle had been lost. The usually lanky man had become even thinner during his time in prison. Not dangerously skinny, but just thin enough that Garak worried for him. “You’ve gotten too skinny, my dear. Sisko will need to help me force-feed you his jambalaya, and I’ll ask O’Brian for a few Shepards’ pies.”

 

Julian laughed, kissing the top of his head. “It sounds as though you want to fatten me up like a goose for Christmas dinner.” He angled his head downwards, trying to look Garak in the eyes. “What’s gotten into you, Elim? Besides that pollen, I mean. You’re never this… raw. Did you suffer head trauma I don’t know about, or is it the hypoxia talking?”

 

“Hypoxia, probably,” Garak conceded. He felt raw, with everything that had happened recently. First, Garak had thought that Julian was tiring of him, and that had just about broken his heart, and then everything else had happened too quickly for him to process any of it. Realizing that he had been bedding an impostor, not knowing where Julian truly was or if he was even alive, receiving Tain’s message, unexpectedly finding Julian in the camp, and his father’s refusal to acknowledge him as a son, even in his last moments, had all but broken him. Garak knew that if things were different with Julian, he might have tried to retain some poise, but the aftereffects of being experimented on had clearly loosened his tongue, and now he had no inclination whatsoever to hide his genuine feelings. This state of affairs was temporary, of course, but for a time, he would be fully truthful. “Am I not allowed to miss you? Or feel guilty for not noticing that I was taking a Changeling into our bed for weeks? I didn’t mean to betray you, dearest. Truly, I didn’t. Forgive me?”

 

“I forgive you, darling.” Julian hushed him gently. “I know you would only ever betray me if it were to save Cardassia.” Julian helped him lie down comfortably on the cot. “So, how did you know it wasn’t me?”

 

“Small things began to add up. He was a perfect little officer. Never offered an unsolicited opinion in a briefing, never told a joke at the wrong time, never talked at length about a topic which no one else held great interest in. No unique personality to speak of. He didn’t have your vivacity, your enthusiasm. He was blander than unsweetened groats. Once I knew what to look for, it became clear that all social interactions were a performance for him, with no genuine emotions or passions to speak of. He did his job perfectly and faded into the background like a good undercover operative. Also, he didn’t smell.”

 

“Smell? I don’t smell, Garak.” Julian sounded positively indignant. “I bathe more often than you do! Or, under normal circumstances I do, at least.”

 

Garak agreed quickly, not wanting an argument to distract them. “True, you are fastidious, but no Federaji soaps or deodorants can cover everything. There are underlying pheromones which all mammals produce throughout the day, and these seep through skin oils into clothing, furniture, even the floor if someone walks barefoot as you do. Mammals all have distinct scents. You smell of roasting chestnuts, petrichor and Tarkalean tea, in case you were curious. Captain Sisko is Raktajino, Bajoran temple incense and old leather from that antique ball that he keeps on his desk. Commander Worf is peaty and earthy, with just a hint of lilac.” Garak smirked at Julian, hoping that his beloved would remember teasing Worf about smelling of lilac months earlier, during the mission when the stations’ command crew had brought home some Tribble stow-aways as souvenirs. Garak was beyond gratified to see a wicked twinkle in Julian’s eye at the reminder. Julian and O’Brian had been unable to enlist Dax in teasing Worf, but Dax had mentioned the conversation on one of her visits to Garak’s shop. Apparently, the impostor hadn’t remembered and asked Dax to stop being silly, which Dax had found odd. It had been yet one more piece of mounting evidence regarding the impostor.

 

Julian schooled his expression into something more serious and looked over at the Klingon.“See, Worf. Didn’t O’Brian and I tell you so? Peaty, earthy and a hint of lilac, and you didn’t believe us. Ha!”

 

Worf ‘Harumphed’ well enough to make even Odo proud.

 

“Our quarters stopped smelling like you two weeks ago. That’s when I knew beyond doubt that it wasn’t you. Before that, I thought you might have been depressed because of the war, but I realized that your eating and sleeping habits hadn’t changed, so I discounted that possibility. Next, I concluded that you had finally realized I wasn’t worthy of you, and you were pulling away from me by burying yourself in work and using your considerable devotion to duty to disguise your loss of interest in me.”

 

Julian protested that, “Now, hang on-” Garak cut off his reply by placing a finger over his mouth. Julian narrowed his eyes and Garak felt himself smirk at the indignant fire he saw there. This was his intended.

 

“How are you feeling, Elim?”

 

Garak gave his beloved partner a withering look, then wrinkled his nose experimentally. “I feel as though a Vorta had me strapped me down and shoved a bit of flora into my sinuses as part of some bizarre experiment. GAAHCHiiisshuuuh! Ugh… I believe I would have preferred a plasma bullet to my chula.” Julian soothed away the lingering tickles, and Garak melted into him, warm in all the right ways.

 

Martok and Worf shared a confused look. After a silent conversation, Worf was the one to ask. “What is a chula?”

 

Garak glanced as Julian, and nodded his permission. Anatomical explanations were a bit beyond him just then, so he trusted Julian to explain. “It’s a rather sensitive part of Cardassian anatomy, a nerve cluster on the torso similar to the spoon shape on their foreheads, which is called a chufa to distinguish them. I wouldn’t recommend getting shot in either spot, based on their proximity to vital organs.”

 

Garak hissed in displeasure, then sniffled into the cloth. “My dear, I have been laid low by a plant. Not terribly heroic, I know, and it did not occur in the service of any great end. I was used against my will as a test subject, which is intolerable, to say the least. A plasma bullet would make for a far better story. When we escape this place, I will kill that Vorta for such a humiliation.”

 

Martok shook his head. “You have been poisoned, but your spirit has not been affected. You have not been dishonored, and there is no glory in claiming blood vengeance against a plant. If the Vorta dies, he dies, but do not throw away your life for revenge when your people and your planet are still at risk from the Dominion.” Martok looked Garak directly in the eyes and smiled. “Our side can ill afford to lose a brave and cunning warrior such as yourself.” The Klingon general patted his arm with something suspiciously close to fondness. “Rest well, my friend, and we will continue our escape plans later today.”

 

Garak was struck dumb as he tried to assimilate this new development. He didn’t quite understand how he had managed to earn General Martok’s respect, let alone friendship, but it was certainly a welcome surprise. Julian kept both arms around him and, in a shocking display of affection, pressed a kiss to Garak’s hairline at his temple. Shocking because Martok was sitting within arm’s length, and he didn’t expect that Julian would do something that so publically declared their status with the Klingon right there. Julian usually didn’t do anything bolder than linking arms even in front of O’Brian.

 

Now, however, in front of prisoners he barely knew, Julian was doing quite a good impression of a Terran octopus. He tangled their legs together and effectively made it impossible for Garak to leave the cot on his own. Garak thanked the Hebitian gods that he was already pressed up against his mammalian heat factory, because it meant that he couldn’t embarrass himself by snuggling even closer in response to the intimate, possessive gesture. Julian kissed him again, on the chufa this time, and spoke with a professional tone which was nothing if not incongruous, given their position. “I agree. You should stay out of the wall until we’re sure the symptoms have faded. Seizures and electrical work do not mix well.”

 

Martok nodded at them with a fierce smile. “Over the past month, I have often wondered if Bashir had a Par’Mach’kai. Clearly, some of his strength comes from you, Elim Garak.”

 

Garak shook his head without lifting it from Julian’s shoulder. “On the contrary, General. Julian’s strength is all his own. I have merely attempted to teach him pragmatism in the hopes of preventing his naivety from being his undoing. I refuse to let him die before I do, and a death from foolishness is simply not acceptable.” He shifted slightly. “You could stand to be more cautious and less trusting, my dear.”

 

Worf made an approving sound. “Your concern for the doctor is admirable, and your words honor him. Perhaps I have misjudged you.”

 

Garak managed a smile. “Perhaps… but perhaps not.” Teasing Worf in the runabout had been great fun, and an effective way to distract himself from nerves over seeing Tain again. He didn’t regret it at all.

 

Julian scoffed, lightly tracing Garak’s aural ridges with his fingers in the most maddening way. His ears no longer itched, but the touches were enough to make Garak squirm unhappily. “As I keep telling you, my darling lizard, there is nothing wrong with having friends, and allies are quite helpful.” The doctor shook his head and glowered at the bunk where Enabran Tain had died not so long ago. When Julian next spoke, his words were directed to the Klingons. “Tain spent years teaching Garak that such connections are weaknesses, and I’ve had the devil’s own time trying to convince the silly reptile otherwise.”

 

Garak settled himself more comfortably against the lanky man, pointedly closing his eyes as he tugged the blanket higher. “And you’re doing a marvelous job of it, my dear insufferable hot water bottle.”

 

Julian pressed a tender series of kisses up along one ocular ridge, and that felt marvelous. Julian knew exactly how to make him melt, and the man had no compunctions whatsoever about playing dirty. Julian buried his hand in Garak’s hair and started gently combing the messy strands with his fingers. He occasionally pressed kisses to Garak’s scalp as he went, and Julian’s other thumb gently stroked a delicate circle in the center of his chufa. It wasn’t enough of a touch to excite his prUt, just enough to relax him. “Shut up and rest, Elim. Your body went through quite an ordeal yesterday, and we need you in top form this afternoon.” The touches and the fond scolding were so soothing that Garak could only reply one way.

 

“Yes, dearest.” Garak made an unforgivably soft noise when Julian pressed a kiss to the center of his chufa, and allowed himself to succumb to his intended’s ministrations. Soon enough, he was asleep.

 

Several hours later, it was afternoon and Garak was about to head back into the wall. In preparation, he blew his nose for what might have been the thousandth time in the past twelve hours. There was still a lingering itch and some excess moisture, but the sneezing had fully stopped. He cleaned himself up as best he could, then had a bit of water and headed in to his dungeon. Moments later, he poked his head back out. “General, I would greatly appreciate if my recent ordeal with that detestable plant were to be left out of your poem.”

 

Martok bared his teeth in an agreeable smile. “Only if you tell me what a gecko is, Mr. Garak.”

 

Garak nodded. It stood to reason that the general wanted context for one of the things Julian had called him the other day. “Of course, General. It’s a reptile that lives on Earth.”

 

Martok made a considering sound. “Are they fearsome?”

 

Julian grinned one of his rare, wicked grins. “Oh, not in the least. They are small enough to fit in the palm of one hand. They are also largely defenseless, and are widely regarded as being cute. Some children even keep them as pets.”

 

Martok threw his head back and laughed uproariously. “Small wonder he took offence!” Garak headed towards his dungeon, and although the sound of Martok’s laughter followed him, Garak found that the laughter was companionable, not mocking

 

Notes: A Chufa is the spoon-shape on Cardassian foreheads. A Chula is a similar shape approximately halfway down the torso, slightly higher than a Human belly-button. A chuva is located above the Ajan, which is similar in function to a reptile’s vent or cloaca, being used for both eliminatory and mating purposes. All three spoon shapes are located along a central ridge of scales, running down the middle of the body, with the chufa and chuva being at the extreme ends of the ridge and the chula being the midpoint. All three are nerve clusters and have greater sensitivity than the surrounding tissues. The chuva is the most sensitive by far, and is similar in location to a human clitoris.

[GJK]

Oh wow! I’ve been searching for something like this for so long! Love it!