Icon by @ThatSpookyAgent. Call me Tir or Julian. 37. He/They. Queer. Twitter: @tirlaeyn. ao3: tirlaeyn. 18+ Only. Star Trek. The X-Files. Sandman. IwtV. OMFD. Definitionless in this Strict Atmosphere.
I think the main difference between Julian’s relationship with O’Brien and Julian’s relationship with garak is that when O’Brien and Julian have a moral disagreement about the Jem’Hadar and O’Brien defies orders and Julian threatens to bring him up on charges they both agree that, like, they need a couple days before they can forgive each other and start feeling comfortable around each other again. But in our man bashir when GARAK tries to get all of julians coworkers KILLED for SELFISH REASONS and Julian SHOOTS GARAK in the NECK with a GUN the episode ends like “so lunch tomorrow?” “yea<3” girl WHAT
Fuck it. I’ve been having my horrible nightmares again. (Think of the sequence I wrote for “Unwinding the Thread” when Garak is asleep and you have a rough approximation.) I’m writing a pure, ego-centric, fuck-you-I’m-James-Bond fic.
—
Alistair was new to the station. After getting top grades in Starfleet medical, passing every known engineering test, and writing a few plays just for fun, very few people had expected him to want to go to Deep Space Nine. His best friend on Earth had spent days practically foaming at the mouth after he’d turned down a chance to go study botany with the crew of the Enterprise. “You could have met Captain Picard” was quickly becoming her new catchphrase. Few people understood the allure of a planet so far away from home and with so little to offer a young man with promise.
Few people knew he was genetically altered either, so he didn’t expect them to understand the appeal of working under Dr. Julian Bashir, known augmented human and his idol since he’d first read the scandalous news report. As he fiddled nervously with the sleeves of his science blue uniform on his way to sick bay, a Cardassian walked up behind him.
“You know,” the Cardassian said, causing Alistair to freeze in place, one finger hitched under the cuff of his sleeve. “I find that a good tailor can keep one from tearing apart the seams of one’s uniform before one has had the chance to wear it.”
“And I suppose you know a good tailor?” Alistair asked.
“Yes. Me.” He walked in front of Alistair, curiosity in his icy blue eyes. “My name is Garak,” he said. “I own a shop on the promenade.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Garak,” Alistair said with a slight bow of his head.
“Oh. A polite young man,” Garak said with a hint of a smile. “And here I thought Julian was going to have a hard time with you.”
“You know Dr. Bashir?” Alistair asked.
A flicker of amusement passed over Garak’s face. “That would be a fair assumption,” he replied. “I take it you’re on your way to sickbay?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Young man,” Garak said. “Do you see a comm badge anywhere on my outfit?”
Alistair looked over the red shirt and trouser combo with its spotted print jacket. “Uh… No.”
“Then I would thank you to stop calling me ‘sir.’ It’s just Garak.”
“Sorry, s- Garak.”
“Bright man,” Garak said with a pat on the shoulder. He turned towards sickbay and tilted his head towards it. “Now, come along. It wouldn’t do to keep Dr. Bashir waiting.”
“He’s been waiting for me?” Alistair asked as he fell in step next to Garak.
“Well, you did get the highest grades since the days when he went through Starfleet medical and you have written one of his favorite plays,” Garak said, “or was that rumor unfounded?”
“No, I… He likes my plays?” Alistair asked.
“Yes. Something about reviving the genre of non-derivative Terran theatre,” Garak said. “I can’t say I saw the same thing when I read them, but Julian has always had a soft spot for tragicomedies.”
“You’ve read my plays?”
“Young man, are you going to continually repeat everything I say?” Garak scolded.
“It’s just surprising is all,” Alistair said. “I didn’t think anyone had read my plays, much less anyone outside of the Terran system.”
“Yes, well, Julian likes to keep abreast of these things,” Garak said as they entered sickbay. The soft lighting cast Garak’s face in shadows. As Alistair was pondering how sinister it made him look, Garak held up a silver pail that looked remarkably like a very long metal bento box. “I brought lunch,” he announced to the seemingly empty sickbay.
“Yes, I’ll be just a moment,” an English voice said from behind a wall. Seconds later, Dr. Julian Bashir poked his head out. “Did you get the–? Oh! I see our newest recruit is here,” he said. He smiled and walked over to Alistair, hand extended. “Dr. Julian Bashir.”
“A-Alistair,” Alistair stuttered.
“Now, I’m sure you didn’t spend six years studying medicine for me to just call you ‘Alistair,’” Dr. Bashir said with a fond look.
“Oh, uh… Dr. Wright,” he amended, shaking Dr. Bashir’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“He keeps calling people ‘sir,’” Garak noted wryly. “Is that just something you augmented humans do or is it trained into you?”
“What?” Alistair and Julian said nearly simultaneously.
“Oh, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” Garak said as he began separating the bento box into its different containers on one of the empty beds. “And, yes, I did get the lamb stew for you.”
“What do you mean augmented?” Julian asked. “That’s… That’s against regulations.”
“Now, Julian,” Garak said, “I think you’re hardly one to throw stones when it comes to augmented people doing things they’re not supposed to.” He gestured to Alistair, who looked like he was slowly turning into a statue. “This young man has followed in your footsteps and has now come to study under his hero.”
“Hero?”
“Well, um…”
“Yes!” Garak exclaimed. “Really, doctor! The pulse, the fidgeting, the wide eyes, the deferential tone. Simply as a medical man, I’d thought you’d see the high anxiety and put two and two together.”
“Oh,” Julian said. “Is that true?” he asked, turning towards Alistair.
“Well…” Alistair took a deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth. “Yes,” he said. “Your friend is very perceptive.”
“Yes, well, he ought to be,” Julian said with a cutting glance at Garak. The tailor smirked at him and began unfolding a napkin. “How did you manage to escape detection?”
“About the same way you did,” Alistair said. “Keeping my head down. Doing good work. I hadn’t really tried to get good grades in Starfleet, but I didn’t realize how well I was doing until it was too late. The engineering and playwriting are hobbies of mine.” He lifted his chin and clasped his arms behind his back to keep them from shaking. “I figured there’s one place in the universe where I might be accepted for who I am,” he continued, “and that place is Deep Space Nine, working under Dr. Julian Bashir.”
Dr. Bashir sighed. “At ease, lieutenant,” he said, waving a hand at him. “You’ve put me in a difficult spot, but Garak has a point. I’m not exactly in a position to throw stones.”
“Good. Now can we all sit down and have a meal?” Garak asked, gesturing to the disassembled bento box. “Or are you still too busy for lunch today?”
Dr. Bashir gave Garak a look and stalked over to the bed. “That includes you, lieutenant,” he said. “Garak seems to have planned out everything today.”
Alistair cocked his head to one side and approached the bed. One of the containers held a sushi roll with a little bit of sliced ginger and another held something that looked a bit like a donut.
“An ikri bun,” Garak explained, seeing his confused look. “Generally, we Cardassians have it with gelat, but I figured you’d have enough adrenaline going through your system without adding caffeine.”
“You really have planned for everything,” Alistair said.
Garak nodded. “I had to ask Mrs. O’Brien, but I think the sushi roll is about the best that one can expect from a replicator.”
“Do you have his favorite color as well?” Julian sniped.
“Now, doctor… Of course I do,” Garak said with a sly smile. “Although, it’s hardly surprising that someone so fond of you would grow to like that Federation teal.”
“Blue,” Julian and Alistair said simultaneously.
“It’s… It’s teal, but it’s called Science Blue,” Alistair clarified. “I guess whoever was naming it didn’t know their colors that well.”
“My!” Garak said. “A fashion expert as well.”
“Oh, no, not –”
“He’s joking, lieutenant,” Dr. Bashir said. “Although I suppose it is good to know you can tell teal from blue. Some of the more advanced blood work we have to do here requires someone who can make the distinction.”
Alistair nodded and popped a piece of sushi into his mouth. The salmon was clearly replicated, but it still scratched that itch for sushi he’d occasionally get. “Fank.” He placed a hand over his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Thank you, Garak,” he said. “It’s quite good.”
“My dear, you’re going to find that lying is my business,” Garak said as scooped a tiny bit of Aldanian spice pudding onto his spoon. “So it’s really best to speak the truth around me.”
“Garak…” Julian said warningly.
“What? Oh, manners are all well and good, but I had really hoped that you two might find a way to get over this little bump in the road so that next time one of our lunches comes around I don’t have to bring it to you in sick bay.” Garak gestured with his spoon at Alistair. “And being overly polite isn’t going to get you anywhere at the moment.” He sipped the bit of pudding off of his spoon and scooped up another mouthful. “Now are you genetically engineered boys going to play nicely or do I have to find time in my schedule to dispose of a body?”
“What?” Alistair asked, panic lacing his voice.
Dr. Bashir sighed. “I like your plays,” he said after a moment. “And I could use a hand around the infirmary.” He shifted back on his heels. “Are you still up to the task?”
“Yes, sir,” Alistair said.
“Good. You’ll report your status to Starfleet tomorrow.”
“But-!”
“I think, as I’m your commanding officer and someone who knows a bit about genetic enhancements, I can make a good case for you staying,” Julian said, “but you’re going to have to trust me.”
Alistair nodded, trying to push down the fear that had flooded his stomach.
“I know it’s scary,” Julian said, his tone soft, “but it’s better to have it out in the open. Believe me.”
“Yes, sir,” Alistair whispered.
“Oh, and, one more thing.”
Alistair looked up at Dr. Bashir, who was regarding him with a fond smile again. “It’s Julian,” he said, “not sir.”
—
Apparently, I can’t even be James Bond in my fantasies. I think I got close to being Q though, so that’s progress!
Fic idea:
AU where Tain exiles Mila along with Garak
Tain states in The Die is Cast that he’s thinking about killing Mila because she knows too much. He knows he needs to get rid of her soon after Garak’s betrayal and him retiring so he sends her away with Garak. So instead of being the suave, mysterious spy on the station, Garak is labelled as that one Cardassian guy that lives with his Mom and might also be a spy. Garak will insist living with several generations of family into adulthood is perfectly normal on Cardassia (it is). Buts its not on Bajor or in most Federation cultures so he just gets labelled as that guy. They open Garaks’ Clothiers together and both work the shop (who do you think taught him to sew??). Cue Mila trying to set him up with ‘that nice young man’ Dr Bashir and her publicly scolding Dukat for his poor manners
Addition: Joseph Sisko eventually comes to the station to visit his family. He and Mila hit it off and after that Garak and Ben Sisko are both lowkey worried that they’re going to be step-brothers soon.
Yes!!!
Ben Sisko and Garak adventures in their attempts to spy on Joseph Sisko and Mila in order to find out “what’s really going on”
Crazy hijinks that ensue when they try to “break them up for the greater good”
In the end it turns out they were just swapping recipes or something equally banal.
Meanwhile, Jake hasn’t seen his grandfather this happy in ages and is disappointed to learn that they were just swapping recipes and playing cards (and doesn’t really believe that’s all there was to it anyway) and starts encouraging Joseph to take it further. Ben Sisko finds out and is dismayed, but Jake’s like, Dad, what’s the problem? Garak would be a cool uncle.
It all ends up going very well between Mila and Joseph Sisko.
Mila: Elim, pack your bags. Joseph and I are getting married and we’re all moving to Earth. Joseph says you can have Benjamin’s old room.
Garak: Why do I have to go to Earth and Captain Sisko gets to stay here?
Mila: Benjamin’s human and they can do what they like, but we’re Cardassians and it would be positively indecent for an unmarried child to live away from both his parents.
Garak: Fine. I’m marrying Doctor Bashir, then.
Everyone is secretly relieved. Except Julian, who didn’t even realise Garak was interested, despite years of Cardassian flirting.
Sisko frankly isn’t sure which is worse, Garak living with his father, or Garak marrying his CMO.
Let’s be honest, the proposal will be something like this:
I was just thinking about this the other day, especially @agrippaspoleto’s drawing, and thought I’d re-blog it. I love it.
Mila of course is monitoring the relationships progress via absolutely ‘legal’ means and thus is always informed about the latest hot gossip and spilling the tea to all of Cardassia.
Aka Agrippa stumbled over another Mulan Scene… (Not sure if this unfolds on Cardassia or DS9, you decide).
Happy new year everybody! I love the Garashir/DS9 Fandom and the wounderful people in it, so have one last shitpost comic before we enter the roaring twenties!
Transcription:
Panel 1:
Julian, peaking out the door: Ahem, Garak?
Garak, outside the panel: Yes, dear?
Julian: Seems your mum invited a few people to help us celebrate our engagement. Which we just decided on I might add…
Panel 2:
Garak walking towards the door: What? Who?
Panel 3:
Garak and Julian peering out the door together, there’s a crowd before the door.
anytime i look at garak i get the weird feeling hes misisng something and tbh i think its a ponytail, and like he would def suit a french braid with his hair length down to his shoulderblades tbh
We don’t talk enough about the moment at the beginning of our man bashir where Julian tells Garak not to rain on his parade and Garak looks so thrilled and goes “a PARADE?”
