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DD9 - For your December reading pleasure? [1/7]
Title: The Summer Sun in Winter
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff/AU
Rating & Warnings: PG (references to alcohol, sex)
Words: This part 2686, ?? overall
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
Summary: Julian has spent the last six months working as a doctor at a hospital in Andor. Now he's home for the holidays, to the joy of all of his friends--but especially Garak. This chapter: adventures with airports.
Author's Notes: So this accidentally turned into the equivalent of a Nano project for me. And, like a Nano project, this isn't nearly as polished as I'd really like it to be. However, Christmas doesn't wait for perfectionists. Alas.
This is pure, unadulterated slice-of-life fluff from start to finish, by the way. Anybody looking for action or angst or complexity should probably look elsewhere. Anyone who wants to feel warm and cosy, though, make yourself at home!
I borrowed a little bit more from tinsnip and Lady Yate-xel's discussions than usual, so I suppose you could say this AU is ever-so-slightly AU--at least where my version of it is concerned, anyway.
On a serious note, this fic is dedicated to anyone for whom Christmas is not a time of good cheer. I wrote this as a way of showing what I think Christmas should be, not necessarily what it is. If you're going to have a difficult holiday season, then I hope reading about Julian and Elim having a good one will be able to give you something of an escape, even for a little while.
That's all. I hope everyone enjoys as I post this over the next few weeks. ♥
This wasn't how Garak had imagined his first time seeing Julian since his partner had departed for his first assignment as a full-fledged doctor.
When he'd daydreamed over a dull bit of sewing on a grey and rainy day, he'd always plotted out their reunion the same way: he and Julian would greet each other warmly—he thought he might set aside his discomfort with displaying affection in public far enough to receive or even offer a hug— and they would at once begin to catch up in a way that Airpe calls simply couldn't satisfy. And then, once the two of them were home in the privacy of Garak's basement apartment, they would catch up in a way Airpe calls definitely couldn't satisfy.
But then, only a few days before he was due back, Julian had mentioned that Jadzia wanted to meet him at the airport, too. Why not carpool and meet him together? Garak had tried not to seem too tepid about the idea; Julian having more than one person in his life willing to make the drive out to greet him was, after all, a good thing. But he was a dreadfully selfish man who had been deprived for far too long, and what he wanted more than anything else was to vanish with Julian into his apartment, not to emerge for a solid three days at least.
However, knowing it would make Julian happy, he'd cautiously agreed to the idea. Their next call had been a three-way conversation involving himself, Jadzia, and Julian to work out logistics. For the most part, Julian and Jadzia had done the talking while he had sat back and contributed a few words every so often (and had quietly lamented the audio-only call—none of them had a paid account that would have allowed video conferencing).
The day of Julian's return, he'd driven to the address Jadzia had given him for the apartment she shared with her sister and parked outside. As he'd waited for her to emerge, he'd turned on the radio. When their conversation inevitably stalled, it would provide at least some sort of distraction from the tedium of driving.
After less than ten minutes on the road, he'd shut off the broadcast. He'd also seriously reevaluated Julian's taste in friends.
Jadzia was nothing at all like Miles O'Brien. She was outgoing and vivacious, clever and mischievous, and if there was a subject upon which she couldn't hold her own, by the end of the drive, Garak had yet to find it. They spent the hour alternating between dissecting the poetry of Akorem Laan and shamelessly gossiping about all their mutual acquaintances, and if Garak hadn't been so desperately in love with Julian, he very well might have found himself smitten.
The magnetism of her personality was such that not even the sight of flurries whisking caross his windshield across his windshield could sour his mood. The weather had been hinting at snow for nearly two weeks now, and normally he regarded every last flake with deep dislike. Currently, however, they merited only a small, inward sigh as he listened to Jadzia fill him in on what Quark had confided in her the other day.
The only time their conversation waned was while Garak attempted to locate the short term parking area. Having been to this particular airport only once (as an arrival only), and given the way airports seem to be deliberately laid out to be as confusing as possible, it was a task that required a great deal of concentration.
"How long until Julian's flight gets here?" Jadzia asked once he had parked.
He checked his watch. "Twenty minutes. Although I assume by the time we locate his gate, we'll have very little time to spare."
"True enough," she agreed as they made their way toward the main entrance. She smiled, and her voice took on the tones he recognized from their earlier gossiping session. "You must be excited to see him."
He glanced over at her, briefly calculating. Jadzia was a delightful woman and it was clear she meant no harm to anyone, but gossip was a stream that flowed in two directions.
And so all he offered was a brief, "Mm, I am. Presumably most of his friends here are—it has been half a year since he left."
"That's a long time," she agreed, then tried again: "Do you have anything special planned?"
"Not currently, no. That will depend on Julian. He does have little more than a week, after all."
He raised his eyebrows and tucked his chin: I know what you're doing. Her response was a shrug and a charming smile: You can't blame me for trying. Which he couldn't, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to safeguard his privacy all the same.
Once they were inside, a quick glace at the large bank of clocks showing the time in the world's major cities was enough to speed both their steps. There was no time even for him to stop and brush the snowflakes from his coat, though he certainly made the attempt as they flew along the airport's many corridors.
Fortunately, their haste paid off: they reached the gate with even a few minutes to spare. Once there, they joined a small crowd consisting of mainly Bajorans and Federation citizens of numerous backgrounds, all similarly waiting for loved ones returning for the holidays. He and Jadzia attracted a few looks (him for being Cardassian and her for being beautiful), but they were distracted at best. The prospect of being reunited with someone long absent easily overwhelmed distrust or admiration and for once, he could sympathise.
A murmur started up as soon as people of all shapes and sizes of tired began trickling through the gate. Around them, the waiting group began to disperse, which Garak registered with the small corner of his mind that constantly evaluated his environment and monitored for threats. He also was registering the absence of what he was searching for. Being so tall and slim, Julian should have been simple to pick out. And yet. . . .
"Are you sure this is the right gate?" Jadzia asked when the opening and closing doors through which the arriving travellers had passed closed and did not seem ready to open again.
"It is Gate 26." He gestured at the brightly lit sign a dozen or so metres away. "According to the information Julian sent us, this is where we should be."
"Excuse me."
He and Jadzia glanced over to a woman around his age with a greying afro—an American, judging from her accent. She was standing a few metres away before a tall display that presumably listed arrivals and departures.
"Are you waiting for Flight 2247?" she asked once it was clear she had their attention.
Jadzia took a few steps in her direction. "Yes, that's right. Has it been delayed?"
"It says it's just landed at Gate 43—it looks as though they changed gates at the last minute." She sighed. "Do either of you happen to know where that is?"
Garak closed his eyes and mentally pulled up the map of the airport he'd memorised out of habit the previous night. . . . Then it was his turn to sigh. "At the opposite end of the airport, apparently."
"Guess we'd better move fast," Jadzia commented, but in spite of her relaxed demeanour, she set off with long strides.
The American's name was Tonya Moore, apparently. She was waiting for her niece, who had been visiting a close friend in Andor. Jadzia provided their own story, and soon the two women gave every appearance of having been friends for decades. Garak contributed where he could fit into the conversation, but mostly, he marvelled. He'd once been responsible for passing along information for the good of Cardassia, but it seemed to him what he would have needed to spend two weeks uncovering, Jadzia could obtain in five minutes—while making a friend into the bargain. What an incredible woman.
They wove around sluggish travellers, walked briskly over moving sidewalks and up and down escalators, but it still took far too much time to reach Gate 43. Ms. Moore's niece was present and they soon lost their companion to a joyful reunion, but Julian, as he'd feared, was nowhere in sight.
"So what do we do now?" Jadzia asked once she'd returned from exchanging phone numbers with Ms. Moore.
"I'm assuming you've already texted him," Garak answered.
"It was the first thing I did when Tonya realized we were at the wrong gate. Either his phone is off or it's dead. Knowing Julian, I'd say the second option is a pretty good bet."
"I'm afraid I would have to agree with you." He glanced about. "I suppose we could try asking the attendant."
He nodded at a white Bajoran man who seemed very involved in his computer screen—though whether what held his attention so closely was work-related or videos of cats remained to be seen. Either way, he didn't have much faith in the observational skills of one so preoccupied, but at this point, their options were few.
But fortunately there was no need to put the airport employee to the test, as, just as they were arriving at the desk, Garak spotted—ah. He relaxed. Julian at last, dragging an enormous suitcase with a very familiar laptop carrier over his shoulder, looking rumpled and more than a little frustrated.
"There you are! I was beginning to think I was going to be spending Christmas in this airport," he said by way of greeting as he parked his suitcase. "What kind of airline changes gates at the last minute without telling anyone?"
"Yours, apparently," Jadzia answered, manoeuvring past the luggage to hug him with just as much exuberance as she seemed to display with everything else. "Glad to see you made it in one piece."
Julian's frown turned into a grin as he hugged her back. For the moment, his discomfort seemed to be forgotten (though perhaps not quite forgiven yet).
Once they were finished, Garak stepped forward. "Welcome back to the Federation, my dear."
Julian's expression softened, becoming something more intimate. Somehow, over the months of Airpe contact, Garak had forgotten that the smile that could make his heart beat faster via slightly pixilated webcam could, in person, genuinely make him go weak in the knees.
He was spared the need to regain his balance in more ways than one by Julian wrapping him up in a hug that managed to exceed Jadzia's. Garak may not have matched his energy in return, but he more than made up for that deficiency in measured strength, and his eyes fell half shut. Julian might smell like all airline travelers, of terminals and of stale sweat and breath, but it didn't matter. Though Garak had been the one to remain behind, it was only now that he felt as if he were truly home.
"It's good to be back," Julian murmured into his ear. Garak shivered. "God, I missed you."
And then he departed from the script of Garak's expectations by kissing him full on the mouth.
The piece of his mind that always shouted at him for displaying any sort of emotion in public took longer to be silenced than he'd once been able to manage when he and Julian had both been living in the same city, but it was silenced all the same. It was the first time they had kissed in six months, and if anything could quell his instincts, it would be that.
He even forgot himself enough that, when they separated after what truly was very little time at all, he nearly leaned forward to kiss him again. But he recalled himself and took a step away, which was for the best, judging from the wide smile Jadzia now wore.
"You two are so sweet," she declared wickedly, clearly determined to make them blush.
She was successful with Julian, but Garak only gave her a bland look. "I'm pleased we meet with your approval."
He reached for Julian's free hand; the speed with which Julian tangled their fingers together made his heart trip in his chest.
"Now, while the two of you may care to linger, I would really prefer to be on my way, in case the flurries we saw earlier decide to become snow," he went on. "If either of you wish to explore, by all means do so. But do keep in mind that I'll be taking the car with me."
Julian grinned, just as Garak had been hoping he would. "I saw everything I care to see of the airport looking for the two of you. What about you, Jadzia?"
"Well, it is a nice airport. . . ." Jadzia pretended to consider her options. "I like the renovations they did. But I think looking at them up close can wait for another time."
"Then let's be on our way," Garak concluded.
Julian picked up his suitcase again, and with no further discussion, they left the airport. Until they reached Garak's car and stopped to stow the luggage in the trunk, Julian's hand didn't leave his for an instant.
*
"I'm beginning to wonder if Jadzia put sleeping pills in that eggnog she served me," Julian mumbled, his eyes closed despite the fact that they were, in theory, watching a movie together.
Garak pulled the blanket that covered both of them a little higher under Julian's chin. With the deepest of fondness, he said, "I believe that was the brandy. I've found alcohol and long periods of travel rarely mix to any positive effect. What time did you get up today?"
Julian groaned and wiggled into Garak a little more. "Four thirty in the morning."
"I rest my case."
On the way back from the airport, Jadzia had invited the two of them to stop by her place "for a while." She had reportedly excellent eggnog, and Ezri had just finished a large batch of Christmas cookies. As tired as he had been, Julian had accepted and, with an inward shrug, Garak had as well.
"A while" had unsurprisingly turned into "a long while" —the Dax sisters were nothing if not supremely welcoming hosts. They had even extended an invitation for supper, but, with an eye on the way Julian had begun to droop, Garak had politely informed them that they had plans. And so they had returned to what was at last their basement apartment once more.
Julian had been too tired to be particularly talkative, which didn't bother Garak—he could have soaked up the sight of Julian eating at their table for hours. After, he'd bypassed the DVDs of Cardassian experimental theatre in favour of My Fair Lady. The two of them had settled on the couch, Julian lying against his chest, and they had then begun the hopeless task of making up for six months' total absence of physical contact.
"I'm beginning to think a move to bed will shortly be in order," Garak went on.
He received no response.
He lifted his head from the back of the couch to attempt a glimpse at Julian's face. "Julian?"
"Mmm?"
The sound was endearingly slurred; Garak chuckled softly. "Once again, I rest my case. It's time for bed, my dear."
Julian stayed silent before letting out a long sigh. "I don't think I can move, Elim."
"I would recommend making an attempt. Otherwise, we'll both regret it come the morning."
With a groan, Julian sat up. As he squinted at the television, Garak took up and folded the blanket. He was ready with a doubtless unnecessary arm to help Julian along by the time Julian had worked up the willpower to attempt walking, and together they made the short but slow trek to their bedroom.
A piece of regret tugged at him while Julian fumbled into his pajamas—once again, they wouldn't be following the script of his expectations—but it was a very small piece. He was going to sleep with Julian in his arms tonight. Everything else could wait.
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff/AU
Rating & Warnings: PG (references to alcohol, sex)
Words: This part 2686, ?? overall
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
Summary: Julian has spent the last six months working as a doctor at a hospital in Andor. Now he's home for the holidays, to the joy of all of his friends--but especially Garak. This chapter: adventures with airports.
Author's Notes: So this accidentally turned into the equivalent of a Nano project for me. And, like a Nano project, this isn't nearly as polished as I'd really like it to be. However, Christmas doesn't wait for perfectionists. Alas.
This is pure, unadulterated slice-of-life fluff from start to finish, by the way. Anybody looking for action or angst or complexity should probably look elsewhere. Anyone who wants to feel warm and cosy, though, make yourself at home!
I borrowed a little bit more from tinsnip and Lady Yate-xel's discussions than usual, so I suppose you could say this AU is ever-so-slightly AU--at least where my version of it is concerned, anyway.
On a serious note, this fic is dedicated to anyone for whom Christmas is not a time of good cheer. I wrote this as a way of showing what I think Christmas should be, not necessarily what it is. If you're going to have a difficult holiday season, then I hope reading about Julian and Elim having a good one will be able to give you something of an escape, even for a little while.
That's all. I hope everyone enjoys as I post this over the next few weeks. ♥
This wasn't how Garak had imagined his first time seeing Julian since his partner had departed for his first assignment as a full-fledged doctor.
When he'd daydreamed over a dull bit of sewing on a grey and rainy day, he'd always plotted out their reunion the same way: he and Julian would greet each other warmly—he thought he might set aside his discomfort with displaying affection in public far enough to receive or even offer a hug— and they would at once begin to catch up in a way that Airpe calls simply couldn't satisfy. And then, once the two of them were home in the privacy of Garak's basement apartment, they would catch up in a way Airpe calls definitely couldn't satisfy.
But then, only a few days before he was due back, Julian had mentioned that Jadzia wanted to meet him at the airport, too. Why not carpool and meet him together? Garak had tried not to seem too tepid about the idea; Julian having more than one person in his life willing to make the drive out to greet him was, after all, a good thing. But he was a dreadfully selfish man who had been deprived for far too long, and what he wanted more than anything else was to vanish with Julian into his apartment, not to emerge for a solid three days at least.
However, knowing it would make Julian happy, he'd cautiously agreed to the idea. Their next call had been a three-way conversation involving himself, Jadzia, and Julian to work out logistics. For the most part, Julian and Jadzia had done the talking while he had sat back and contributed a few words every so often (and had quietly lamented the audio-only call—none of them had a paid account that would have allowed video conferencing).
The day of Julian's return, he'd driven to the address Jadzia had given him for the apartment she shared with her sister and parked outside. As he'd waited for her to emerge, he'd turned on the radio. When their conversation inevitably stalled, it would provide at least some sort of distraction from the tedium of driving.
After less than ten minutes on the road, he'd shut off the broadcast. He'd also seriously reevaluated Julian's taste in friends.
Jadzia was nothing at all like Miles O'Brien. She was outgoing and vivacious, clever and mischievous, and if there was a subject upon which she couldn't hold her own, by the end of the drive, Garak had yet to find it. They spent the hour alternating between dissecting the poetry of Akorem Laan and shamelessly gossiping about all their mutual acquaintances, and if Garak hadn't been so desperately in love with Julian, he very well might have found himself smitten.
The magnetism of her personality was such that not even the sight of flurries whisking caross his windshield across his windshield could sour his mood. The weather had been hinting at snow for nearly two weeks now, and normally he regarded every last flake with deep dislike. Currently, however, they merited only a small, inward sigh as he listened to Jadzia fill him in on what Quark had confided in her the other day.
The only time their conversation waned was while Garak attempted to locate the short term parking area. Having been to this particular airport only once (as an arrival only), and given the way airports seem to be deliberately laid out to be as confusing as possible, it was a task that required a great deal of concentration.
"How long until Julian's flight gets here?" Jadzia asked once he had parked.
He checked his watch. "Twenty minutes. Although I assume by the time we locate his gate, we'll have very little time to spare."
"True enough," she agreed as they made their way toward the main entrance. She smiled, and her voice took on the tones he recognized from their earlier gossiping session. "You must be excited to see him."
He glanced over at her, briefly calculating. Jadzia was a delightful woman and it was clear she meant no harm to anyone, but gossip was a stream that flowed in two directions.
And so all he offered was a brief, "Mm, I am. Presumably most of his friends here are—it has been half a year since he left."
"That's a long time," she agreed, then tried again: "Do you have anything special planned?"
"Not currently, no. That will depend on Julian. He does have little more than a week, after all."
He raised his eyebrows and tucked his chin: I know what you're doing. Her response was a shrug and a charming smile: You can't blame me for trying. Which he couldn't, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to safeguard his privacy all the same.
Once they were inside, a quick glace at the large bank of clocks showing the time in the world's major cities was enough to speed both their steps. There was no time even for him to stop and brush the snowflakes from his coat, though he certainly made the attempt as they flew along the airport's many corridors.
Fortunately, their haste paid off: they reached the gate with even a few minutes to spare. Once there, they joined a small crowd consisting of mainly Bajorans and Federation citizens of numerous backgrounds, all similarly waiting for loved ones returning for the holidays. He and Jadzia attracted a few looks (him for being Cardassian and her for being beautiful), but they were distracted at best. The prospect of being reunited with someone long absent easily overwhelmed distrust or admiration and for once, he could sympathise.
A murmur started up as soon as people of all shapes and sizes of tired began trickling through the gate. Around them, the waiting group began to disperse, which Garak registered with the small corner of his mind that constantly evaluated his environment and monitored for threats. He also was registering the absence of what he was searching for. Being so tall and slim, Julian should have been simple to pick out. And yet. . . .
"Are you sure this is the right gate?" Jadzia asked when the opening and closing doors through which the arriving travellers had passed closed and did not seem ready to open again.
"It is Gate 26." He gestured at the brightly lit sign a dozen or so metres away. "According to the information Julian sent us, this is where we should be."
"Excuse me."
He and Jadzia glanced over to a woman around his age with a greying afro—an American, judging from her accent. She was standing a few metres away before a tall display that presumably listed arrivals and departures.
"Are you waiting for Flight 2247?" she asked once it was clear she had their attention.
Jadzia took a few steps in her direction. "Yes, that's right. Has it been delayed?"
"It says it's just landed at Gate 43—it looks as though they changed gates at the last minute." She sighed. "Do either of you happen to know where that is?"
Garak closed his eyes and mentally pulled up the map of the airport he'd memorised out of habit the previous night. . . . Then it was his turn to sigh. "At the opposite end of the airport, apparently."
"Guess we'd better move fast," Jadzia commented, but in spite of her relaxed demeanour, she set off with long strides.
The American's name was Tonya Moore, apparently. She was waiting for her niece, who had been visiting a close friend in Andor. Jadzia provided their own story, and soon the two women gave every appearance of having been friends for decades. Garak contributed where he could fit into the conversation, but mostly, he marvelled. He'd once been responsible for passing along information for the good of Cardassia, but it seemed to him what he would have needed to spend two weeks uncovering, Jadzia could obtain in five minutes—while making a friend into the bargain. What an incredible woman.
They wove around sluggish travellers, walked briskly over moving sidewalks and up and down escalators, but it still took far too much time to reach Gate 43. Ms. Moore's niece was present and they soon lost their companion to a joyful reunion, but Julian, as he'd feared, was nowhere in sight.
"So what do we do now?" Jadzia asked once she'd returned from exchanging phone numbers with Ms. Moore.
"I'm assuming you've already texted him," Garak answered.
"It was the first thing I did when Tonya realized we were at the wrong gate. Either his phone is off or it's dead. Knowing Julian, I'd say the second option is a pretty good bet."
"I'm afraid I would have to agree with you." He glanced about. "I suppose we could try asking the attendant."
He nodded at a white Bajoran man who seemed very involved in his computer screen—though whether what held his attention so closely was work-related or videos of cats remained to be seen. Either way, he didn't have much faith in the observational skills of one so preoccupied, but at this point, their options were few.
But fortunately there was no need to put the airport employee to the test, as, just as they were arriving at the desk, Garak spotted—ah. He relaxed. Julian at last, dragging an enormous suitcase with a very familiar laptop carrier over his shoulder, looking rumpled and more than a little frustrated.
"There you are! I was beginning to think I was going to be spending Christmas in this airport," he said by way of greeting as he parked his suitcase. "What kind of airline changes gates at the last minute without telling anyone?"
"Yours, apparently," Jadzia answered, manoeuvring past the luggage to hug him with just as much exuberance as she seemed to display with everything else. "Glad to see you made it in one piece."
Julian's frown turned into a grin as he hugged her back. For the moment, his discomfort seemed to be forgotten (though perhaps not quite forgiven yet).
Once they were finished, Garak stepped forward. "Welcome back to the Federation, my dear."
Julian's expression softened, becoming something more intimate. Somehow, over the months of Airpe contact, Garak had forgotten that the smile that could make his heart beat faster via slightly pixilated webcam could, in person, genuinely make him go weak in the knees.
He was spared the need to regain his balance in more ways than one by Julian wrapping him up in a hug that managed to exceed Jadzia's. Garak may not have matched his energy in return, but he more than made up for that deficiency in measured strength, and his eyes fell half shut. Julian might smell like all airline travelers, of terminals and of stale sweat and breath, but it didn't matter. Though Garak had been the one to remain behind, it was only now that he felt as if he were truly home.
"It's good to be back," Julian murmured into his ear. Garak shivered. "God, I missed you."
And then he departed from the script of Garak's expectations by kissing him full on the mouth.
The piece of his mind that always shouted at him for displaying any sort of emotion in public took longer to be silenced than he'd once been able to manage when he and Julian had both been living in the same city, but it was silenced all the same. It was the first time they had kissed in six months, and if anything could quell his instincts, it would be that.
He even forgot himself enough that, when they separated after what truly was very little time at all, he nearly leaned forward to kiss him again. But he recalled himself and took a step away, which was for the best, judging from the wide smile Jadzia now wore.
"You two are so sweet," she declared wickedly, clearly determined to make them blush.
She was successful with Julian, but Garak only gave her a bland look. "I'm pleased we meet with your approval."
He reached for Julian's free hand; the speed with which Julian tangled their fingers together made his heart trip in his chest.
"Now, while the two of you may care to linger, I would really prefer to be on my way, in case the flurries we saw earlier decide to become snow," he went on. "If either of you wish to explore, by all means do so. But do keep in mind that I'll be taking the car with me."
Julian grinned, just as Garak had been hoping he would. "I saw everything I care to see of the airport looking for the two of you. What about you, Jadzia?"
"Well, it is a nice airport. . . ." Jadzia pretended to consider her options. "I like the renovations they did. But I think looking at them up close can wait for another time."
"Then let's be on our way," Garak concluded.
Julian picked up his suitcase again, and with no further discussion, they left the airport. Until they reached Garak's car and stopped to stow the luggage in the trunk, Julian's hand didn't leave his for an instant.
"I'm beginning to wonder if Jadzia put sleeping pills in that eggnog she served me," Julian mumbled, his eyes closed despite the fact that they were, in theory, watching a movie together.
Garak pulled the blanket that covered both of them a little higher under Julian's chin. With the deepest of fondness, he said, "I believe that was the brandy. I've found alcohol and long periods of travel rarely mix to any positive effect. What time did you get up today?"
Julian groaned and wiggled into Garak a little more. "Four thirty in the morning."
"I rest my case."
On the way back from the airport, Jadzia had invited the two of them to stop by her place "for a while." She had reportedly excellent eggnog, and Ezri had just finished a large batch of Christmas cookies. As tired as he had been, Julian had accepted and, with an inward shrug, Garak had as well.
"A while" had unsurprisingly turned into "a long while" —the Dax sisters were nothing if not supremely welcoming hosts. They had even extended an invitation for supper, but, with an eye on the way Julian had begun to droop, Garak had politely informed them that they had plans. And so they had returned to what was at last their basement apartment once more.
Julian had been too tired to be particularly talkative, which didn't bother Garak—he could have soaked up the sight of Julian eating at their table for hours. After, he'd bypassed the DVDs of Cardassian experimental theatre in favour of My Fair Lady. The two of them had settled on the couch, Julian lying against his chest, and they had then begun the hopeless task of making up for six months' total absence of physical contact.
"I'm beginning to think a move to bed will shortly be in order," Garak went on.
He received no response.
He lifted his head from the back of the couch to attempt a glimpse at Julian's face. "Julian?"
"Mmm?"
The sound was endearingly slurred; Garak chuckled softly. "Once again, I rest my case. It's time for bed, my dear."
Julian stayed silent before letting out a long sigh. "I don't think I can move, Elim."
"I would recommend making an attempt. Otherwise, we'll both regret it come the morning."
With a groan, Julian sat up. As he squinted at the television, Garak took up and folded the blanket. He was ready with a doubtless unnecessary arm to help Julian along by the time Julian had worked up the willpower to attempt walking, and together they made the short but slow trek to their bedroom.
A piece of regret tugged at him while Julian fumbled into his pajamas—once again, they wouldn't be following the script of his expectations—but it was a very small piece. He was going to sleep with Julian in his arms tonight. Everything else could wait.