Chapter Text
"Well." Julian turned off the comm system and leaned back in his seat. "That's that then."
Having just come back into the cockpit from his trip to the refresher, Garak retook the other chair. "What's what?"
"There's some sort of subspace anomaly passing through and around the Bajoran system. All warp flights are suspended until it's gone. Dax estimates it'll be gone in about three days, give or take fifteen hours, until anyone can leave the station."
Garak tutted. "That sounds awfully imprecise."
Defensive of his friend and her abilities, Julian bristled. "It's the best she could do with what information was available. From what I could gather, whatever this thing is, it's approximately five times the size of the system, but the edges are…fuzzy and irregular. They may even fade off into an alternate dimension. And its speed is erratic. But Jadzia has been studying it day and night since it appeared, and I trust her calculations."
"How unfortunate for anybody off the station who might be stranded and in need of retrieval."
Julian pulled one knee up and hugged it, settling in for a lengthy discussion. It looked like he was going to be spending the foreseeable future in his Cardassian friend’s company, and it was something he'd been searching for an excuse for a while. Be careful what you wish for , a cautionary voice with an Irish brogue warned inside his head, but he chose to ignore it. "I thought Cardassians didn't believe in luck and fortune and all that.”
Garak leveled an annoyed glance his way but didn't rise to the bait. "I suppose we may as well make plans for the night, then." His eyes flicked over to the exit hatch. "Considering the relative safety available on MB-11's surface and the notable lack of space available in the bunks, I’ll be choosing to sleep outdoors."
Julian's initial disappointment that Garak had once again stepped back from a flirtatious debate was immediately replaced by the fizz of cautious excitement. "That sounds like a terrific idea. We'll make this into a camping trip! Oh, but we better hurry with setting up. The sun's going down soon, and there's a surprise I want to show you."
He'd been planning on it anyway, with a false justification prepared and everything, but no subterfuge would be necessary now, thanks to the unexplained multi-systems failure of their shuttlecraft. Heart thumping in excitement, Julian dashed over to the nearest replicator and began punching in a few codes he'd memorized. He gestured to a compartment just off the cabin. "If you root around in there, you should be able to find all sorts of survival supplies: ground tarp, tent, sleeping rolls. But I've got a couple other things to add, too."
"Thank you, Doctor, but I do know my way around Starfleet transportation." Even so, Garak rose gracefully and headed for the closet.
"Sorry. Of course you do." Julian pulled a package and set it on the floor while a second one materialized, repeating the process half a dozen times until he had a knee-high pile of cubes assembled.
Garak observed from off to the side, a tarp draped over one shoulder and sleeping roll tucked under the other arm. "What an odd collection."
"Help me get them outside and I'll show you what to do with it all."
They made several trips, relocating not only Julian's cubes but also a couple lanterns and other supplies as well.
Garak eyed a small mound that Julian had set aside. " Two pillows?"
Julian shuffled his feet, heart racing even more. "I figured I might as well spend the night out here, too. Get some fresh air. There's no reason to stay in the runabout when you've got a whole planet to yourself. Unless- Unless you'd rather be alone."
"No, no, that's fine. If you'd rather sleep on the ground than a Starfleet mattress, that's your prerogative. I won't mind some company. Should I assume then that all these-" he pointed to the lumpy pile between them, "are yours, then?"
"Ah! No. Actually, most of this is for you." Julian hefted one of the cubes, its wrinkled plastic sides glinting in the sun's failing light. "Everyone's always complaining about how basic replicators can only produce small objects. But it is possible to make something large temporarily small. Voila!" With an unsnap of one flap and a flourish to pull it away, mounds of blue fabric tumbled from the package, quickly overcoming Julian's arms. He scrambled to bunch it back up so nothing touched the dusty ground. "Um- oops. Garak, could you, ah- spread the tarp?"
"Certainly." Vaguely amused and curious, Garak set it out, hammering in the stakes while Julian waited to set the blanket on top, then began on a second package.
"Last year, I bought a Tarkalean goose down comforter, and it arrived vacuum-sealed,” Julian explained. “So I had the replicator scan and store its data. And now… Luxury at our disposal!" He arranged a second blanket on top of the first, then moved on to a third.
"Just how many of those are you putting down?"
"All of the blankets, with one package left over." Julian stepped back from the enormous mound he'd made in the center of the tarp, five down comforters stacked atop one another. "There. A nice, fluffy nest. Softer than anything Starfleet has to offer. And here, this is for you."
Garak stopped circling the pile to accept the last package from Julian’s extended hand, smaller than the others, and deep red. He opened it gingerly, but nothing popped out. It was just finely folded fabric.
"I know how cold you get, so I figured you'd appreciate something that warms on the skin. I was thinking silk, but then I remembered that Dukat complained about it getting caught on his scales once when he visited the infirmary. I like satin better, anyway."
Garak set the plastic casing down and let the bundle unfold. Blinking in surprise, he raised his brow ridges in Julian's direction. "Pajamas?"
"Since we weren't planning on being here for very long, I assumed you didn’t bring anything else to wear. But I didn't think you'd want to wrinkle your outfit by sleeping in it, so now you’ve got this."
Garak's face changed from flattered to wry. "I hardly need to be coddled. I have slept in my clothes before."
"But now there's no reason to." Julian smiled.
"Thank you, my dear." Garak bowed his head graciously. "What about yourself?"
"Oh I… I'm perfectly warm as is. I usually just sleep in my, er, underthings."
Garak eyed the pile of blankets, then his friend. "I see. And when you go to sleep tonight …"
This part was a little tricky. Julian wasn't sure how receptive Garak would be, but he was determined to at least make an attempt. When else would they be alone together like this? "I thought we could… share? The blankets are big enough for the two of us. We could use the bottom four as our mattress and put the top one over us. And if I get too hot, I can just push it off. Or double it over you." He clamped his mouth shut to keep from babbling any further and held his breath.
Garak sized up the pile, then Julian, then the pile again. "I see," he answered ambiguously. "Excuse me. I'm going to go change."
Julian pumped his arm in a silent cheer at his apparent victory. He didn't think anything would come of them sharing a bed, at least not right away, but it was one more step towards intimacy, something Garak often initiated on his own but declined when offered back. He'd touched Julian's hand, his arm, his back, crowded into Julian's personal space during more than one conversation, but then shied away whenever Julian made an attempt to reciprocate. It was incredibly confusing and frustrating, but not a reason to give up. Julian had a hunch that anything involving Garak letting his guard down was going to take the long game. And now that Julian was feeling older and wiser (at least since he’d set foot on Deep Space Nine) he was much more ready to be patient.
Stripped down to his briefs, Julian gathered up the pillows and brought them into the blanket nest with him, where he sat in the middle and draped the top blanket around his shoulders. The sun was almost down, which meant the show would start soon, and right there should be a prime front row seat.
Garak emerged soon after, a vision in loosely clinging garnet and plucking at a sleeve to rub it between his fingers. "This isn't bad for being replicated." Blue eyes that almost glowed in the dusk eyed Julian with interest. "How did you judge my size so well? This fit is… well-customized."
Julian tried and failed not to take a brief scan of Garak's form, from the modest angular Cardassian neckline to the long sleeves and on down to the ankles. He noted with brief disappointment that the clawed feet were still in socks, but of course they were; Garak would want to conserve heat.
The ensemble did fit well. It was just wide enough in the shoulders and chest, tapered slightly at the waist. And the satin was soft, falling like water down his legs, leaving small and intriguing bumps over what were likely scales, scutes, and ridges. Julian’s mouth watered at the sight.
“...Doctor?” Garak’s expression had shifted from self conscious to concerned.
Oh shit. He’d asked a question. But there was no way Julian was going to admit to having scanned his companion’s measurements with a tricorder when he wasn’t looking multiple times. Julian had justified it to himself as being for health concerns in the beginning. “Lucky guesses,” he fibbed. “I do see you at least once a week, and in lots of different outfits.”
Garak’s brow ridges raised with something resembling respect. “If you ever decide to leave the medical profession, you may have a future in tailoring.” He stepped out of the craft, pausing to decide whether or not to close the hatch. He left it open.
“But then you’d have more competition. Is Del Floria not enough?” Julian couldn’t help himself. He wanted to needle Garak, see his reactions. After years of their back and forths over lunch, constantly being riled up just for the fun of it, it had practically evolved into an addiction.
Garak approached the blankets. “I said may . Your atrocious choices in patterns and clashing colors are still in desperate need of improvement.”
“I’ll have you know that I enjoy bright colors and complex patterns, even if they don’t suit me. My uniform is boring, so when I’m out of it, I want to wear something fun. ” Julian lifted one side of the blanket to invite Garak inside, realizing belatedly that he’d just put himself on display. He dropped it modestly and shuffled to the side. “You can use a separate cover if you prefer. Just hurry up; it’s starting.”
The sun had just dropped below the horizon, and there were still yellow streaks radiating through the pink sky, but the shadows down on the planet and around them had spread and grown deeper. Julian extinguished all but one lantern.
After a few second’s hesitation, Garak joined him, lifting Julian's blanket back up to climb inside. “You’ve warmed this up nicely,” he commented. “It’ll do.” Adrenaline surged through Julian as Garak sidled up, the Cardassian's folded legs bumping his own criss-crossed shins. It was a battle hard fought to keep himself from extending an arm in invitation “Just what is it that we’re looking for? Should I be watching the ground or sky?”
“Mostly the ground. Especially those ridges to the south and east. And those boulders to the west. Maybe the plateau, if you can see that far.”
“The ecological survey said that there’s no life to be found. Should I assume the phenomenon is going to be geological and not biological in origin, then?” Julian didn’t have to respond. Garak’s attention had already diverted, his eyes taking on a squint into the blackness below the nearest low cliff.
Pin pricks of smaller lights began to glow in the dust and sand. More and more began to reveal themselves in an erratic smattering across the landscape. Bands and swirls slowly appeared over the larger surfaces, winding around the hills and stony columns while lone dots and random piles lit up in the sand. At first they all emitted a pastel glow, but different colors slowly differentiated out of the murk as the final sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon.
Satisfied, Julian spoke. “MB-11 has an unusually high abundance of fluorescent and phosphorescent minerals,” he narrated in a hushed tone. He pointed to one of the brighter ridges, striped in bright yellowish green and orange: “Over there are Esperite and Clinohedrite.” To a black hill in the distance speckled with patches of blue violet: “Hardystonite.” The ground surrounding their shuttle: “According to the sensors, all those red and green specks are calcite and Willemite.” Having learned the hard way–repeatedly–to scale back on infodumping, Julian decided to request permission before continuing. “Would you like to know more?”
Garak didn’t turn from the landscape. “That sounds like a worthy use of our time.”
Almost giddy and chiding himself for having lumped Garak in with everyone who’d ever told him to stop talking, Julian wiggled in place and gathered his thoughts. “Most of the minerals you’re seeing are actually only fluorescent, meaning they have to be in UV light to do this. But the Zaxdar nebula-” he pointed to a cloud of stars almost directly overhead, “contains an unusually high number of O and B stars, which emit higher than usual amounts of ultraviolet wavelengths. The effect is almost completely muted when the sun is shining, but once it’s gone…we get this. What do you think?”
“About the scenery, or the lecture?”
“Either.”
Julian was barely spared a glance. “Thank you for the explanation. I found it very edifying. As for the landscape, it is truly breathtaking, Doctor. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
Julian had, a few times. The haphazardly neon landscape reminded him of a blacklight miniature golf course his family occasionally visited when he was a child. Assuming his discerning tailor friend would find such a vibrant conglomeration to be gaudy, he’d refrained from inviting Garak to join him in a holosuite program that recreated it, no matter how much fun he thought it may be. But he was reassessing that belief now.
One of the ridges slowly faded from electric red and orange to dull embers. “Over there, those are phosphorescent stones. They’re done for the night now that the sun is gone. But the rest of this should be visible until sunrise.” Julian frowned as an unpleasant thought came to him. “It’s not too much, is it? All this? If you think the light will keep you awake, we can set up the tent to block it out.”
Garak stiffened visibly. “I’d rather avoid that if possible.”
Julian didn’t push. He knew that claustrophobia was a sensitive topic, and it was his express will to make his friend feel as safe and comfortable as possible. “No problem. I’m going to lie down now. But feel free to stay up as long as you like.” He flattened out and wriggled into the feather-filled mounds that were a little like being enfolded in a fluffy cloud. The air was plenty warm for Julian’s own mammalian blood, so he left his chest uncovered and closed his eyes, both hoping that his bedmate would use the free part of the blanket to stay warm and take the opportunity to steal a peak or three at the skin on display.
Slumber came to Julian surprisingly easily, but Garak stayed up for some time. Julian wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, but it felt like he’d just drifted off when the tailor finally laid down a scant few inches away. His breath caught in his throat. So close, yet so far.
It’d felt that way for so long: across the lunch table, side by side while watching a racquetball match, across the counter in Garak’s shop. No more than the length of a forearm between them, but an emotional gulf the size of the wormhole in the way.
But sharing a bed, a nest? A beginning, perhaps. That was enough. It could be, for now. It was a step in the right direction.
“I know you’re awake,” Garak murmured from beside him. “Cardassians may not have acute hearing, but I can sense the speed of your pulse.” Right. Cardassians could pick up heat and electromagnetic signatures with their chu’en: the three larger scales on the head, chest, and lower abdomen. “And I may not be a Betazoid, but your thoughts are loud enough for even the most psychically null humanoid to hear the noise. What’s on your mind?”
Julian divulged a fragment of the truth. “I was hoping you enjoyed the surprise.”
“But of course. This landscape is not unlike the Mekar wilderness, with its stark expanses and ornate rock formations.” Julian’s brow wrinkled in an unasked question. “It surrounded the institute where I began my training. I considered it arrestingly beautiful.” Garak went silent for a minute, eyes skittering across the constellation above. “No one has ever done something like this for me before, Doctor. Not the pajamas, the- the nest, and most certainly nothing like camping under the stars on a planet with such a wondrous display.” He sounded thoughtful, maybe even a bit incredulous. Had no one ever given him a gift before? “This is why you invited me along today, instead of Lieutenant Dax or Chief O’Brien, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” That was the absolute truth.
“Thank you, my dear. I will… cherish this.”
A surge of emotion welled up in Julian’s chest, like an explosion of color and light even richer than the one outside their bed. His hand fluttered indecisively, then slid sideways until it touched and covered his friend’s. Garak didn’t pull away. “You’re worth it. And you’re welcome.”
After a quarter hour or so they both eventually passed into sleep like that: two souls side by side and surrounded by sparks of light in the dark, just barely skin to skin, and deep in a nest of fabric and feathers.