The Massive Continuity of Ducks

thesylverlining:

missyblackofficial:
thesylverlining:
I love the phrase “I love them your honor” re: Blorbos because it both reveals so much about the relationship between you and your Blorbo, and yet raises so many unanswered questions like:
Why are we standing before a judge? Is it a civil case or criminal trial? Parking violation ticket? Whose hearing is it, yours or Blorbo’s? Both? Are you a character (ha) witness for the defense, or co-defendant? What have they been charged with? Or what have YOU done in their honor, and why - or are the accusations completely meritless? Are they hitting YOU with a restraining order? Are you arguing for visitation rights? What kind of charge are we talking about here, misdemeanor or felony? Are they/you a repeat offender? How likely are you to be found guilty or innocent? Is there a jury? Are we even IN a formal courtroom setting or are we just bugging a random off-duty judge about our feelings?
Why must we adhere to an outdated and barbaric for-profit penal code that does nothing to rehabilitate, but rather punish and enforce an unjust -
Well, you get the picture.
I love this phrase, your honor.
Whenever I say it, I imagine myself as the young bride, desperate but dry-eyed, begging for mercy as her husband is sentenced for crimes he probably definitely committed but looked very sexy doing, and beneath her abject plea is an implicit threat: Heaven help you if you try to take them from me. Very Geordie/Devil’s Backbone/Inkpot Gods, yknow?
I love them, your honor.
….This. This is good.

shakespearevillain:

Julian groaned as sensation slowly returned to his body. He realized he had been sleeping. No, his medical training reminded him, unconscious. Why had he been unconscious? A sharp pain in his skull quickly reminded him. Something had hit him in the head. Something from an explosion. His eyes shot open, only for him to close them again as the dull, orange lights seared themselves into his retinas. The children. He’d been on Cardassia Prime, trying to get some war orphans out of harm’s way when the building next to them had exploded. He had just gotten the last of them into a bunker when he’d been hit in the head by debris.
“Ah, so you’ve returned to the land of the living,” a familiar, smooth voice said.
“Garak?” Julian rasped, squinting into the lights. He could see the form of his companion silhouetted near his bed. He tried to sit up, but was immediately hit with an intense wave of vertigo.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Garak said.
“Noted.” He took a deep breath and asked the obvious question: “Where am I?”
“On the station, in sick bay,” Garak replied, gently sidling into view beside Julian’s bed. Julian caught a momentary flash of worry in Garak’s blue eyes before it was replaced with his usual cold demeanor. “I told you not to come down to the planet,” Garak said as he began pacing the bedside. “And yet, did you listen to me? Oh no. You’d much rather risk your life trying to save some orphaned Cardassian children than consider the effect losing you might have on the health and wellbeing of the entire station. Nay, the entire quadrant.”
“I’m not that special,” Julian said.
Garak barked out a harsh laugh.
Julian clenched his jaw and balled his hands into fists. He slowly sat up, careful to sink down whenever he felt at all dizzy. Garak looked furious and in a disarray. His jaw was clenched. His usually neatly combed hair fanned out in a spray around his face and his scales looked duller than usual. “Garak,” he said, “one augmented human–”
“I’m not talking about your augmented status, although that certainly helps matters,” Garak interrupted. He held up his index finger. “I’m talking about the one Federation doctor who is willing to give Cardassia a chance. You are a vital link between a broken Cardassia and the Federation.”
“I thought that was your job.”
Garak heaved a big sigh. “Doctor, please,” he said, “spare me your naïve optimism. We both know that most Federation officers don’t trust any Cardassians and even more than that would prefer to see me vaporized than speak two words with me.” He began pacing alongside the bed again. “No, no, no. You are the closest thing we have to an ambassador at the moment and still you choose to risk your life.”
“And what was I supposed to do? Just leave those children to die?”
“Yes!” exclaimed Garak. “That would have been an acceptable loss. Five children for the price of a link between Cardassia and the Federation.”
“That’s not how that works, Garak,” Julian said.
“That is exactly ‘how it works,’” Garak countered. “Do you think those children would have survived much longer if you had died? With a devastated Cardassia and no food coming in from off-world? They and thousands of others would have starved, not to mention succumbing to illness, violence, and a general lack of sanitation.”
“I didn’t know the Federation was doing that much for Cardassia.”
“Oh, it’s not,” Garak sneered, “but, at least, they’re in a position to offer should worst come to absolute worst.”
“You know, you really do have the bedside manner of a torturer,” Julian said.
“Thank you,” Garak replied without skipping a beat.
Julian caught Garak’s hand the next time he made it to the head of the bed. “Elim,” he said softly. “You can just say you were worried about me.”
Garak started to pull his hand away and then grasped onto the side of the bed, sinking his hand further into Julian’s grip. “While that may be true,” he admitted as he ran his thumb over the back of Julian’s hand, “it is hardly relevant. Our personal relationship is secondary to your larger role–”
“As a friend to Cardassia, yes,” Julian interrupted. He touched Garak’s cheek with his free hand. “But, I didn’t die,” he said. “And those children are safe.”
“This time, it worked,” Garak growled. “But what about the next time? Really, doctor…” He blinked rapidly and looked up at the sickbay lights. “You must put aside your Federation values and face the cold, hard facts of the situation. You can’t save every child, nor should you try.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Julian said as he pulled Garak into a sitting position on the bed. He brushed the Cardassian’s dark, black hair away from his face. “Have you had any rest?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Garak snapped.
“I take it that’s a ‘no.’”
Garak sighed. “Ever the doctor,” he complained. He squeezed Julian’s hand. “I’ve had a few naps,” he said. “But, mostly, I’ve been here.”
“You need to get some rest,” Julian insisted. “How long have I been–?”
“A day,” Garak said.
Julian furrowed his brow, his gaze darting over Garak’s disheveled state. “Computer?” he said. “How long have I been in sick bay–?”
“Really, doctor–”
“93 hours and 32 minutes,” the computer responded.
Julian’s jaw dropped. “Four days?”
“A little less than that,” Garak said.
“You’ve been by my side for four days?”
“As I said, I’ve had the occasional nap.”
“Garak, at 72 hours of sleep deprivation–”
“Believe me, doctor, I know exactly what sleep deprivation does,” Garak countered. “It is a time-honored torture device.”
“Then you know that you can’t sustain this.”
“I know.” He tilted up his chin and continued sitting on the bed.
“You’re not going back to your quarters.”
“First of all, doctor, I no longer have quarters on this station.”
Julian rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“No,” Garak said, “I’m not.”
Julian let out a frustrated sigh. “Come here,” he said, throwing off the thin sheet and scooting so that he almost dangled off the hospital bed. “We can share the bed,” he said in response to Garak’s incredulous look.
“I don’t think–”
“Garak, if you refuse to leave sick bay, then you must sleep here. Doctor’s orders.”
Garak smiled sleepily. “Very well, Julian,” he said, tucking himself under the sheet. He also tried to perform a balancing act on the edge of the bed until Julian pulled him close. “Both of us need sleep,” Julian said as he fit himself against the Cardassian’s chest. Garak placed his head on top of Julian’s and closed his eyes. Within seconds, both of them were asleep.