"Prophets guide us," Vedek Sori whispered as they materialized in the murky forbidding light of a long passageway that was disturbingly quiet.

Beside her, Vedek Tansa peered into the shadows. "We're out in the open.  A patrol could come along any moment."

"Have no fear," Garak murmured. "This part of the station is seldom used.  I chose it as our beam-down site for that reason."

"We didn't exactly beam down," Julian said, glancing pointedly at Jareth. "We appeared here before the ship had even entered orbit and hailed the station."

Jareth shrugged. "What good is a hidden advantage if you don't use it?"

"Less risk this way," Kira added. "We don't want them detecting our transporter.  Otherwise they could have fifteen guards surrounding us before we'd finished beaming down."

"Oh, I'm not complaining," said Julian. "As long as the body count is zero, I'm happy."

"Shame Commander Dax is missing out on the fun," Jareth said. "But better she keeps that Aelu captain company than any of us."

"She'll have him wrapped around her little finger by the time we get back.  Assuming Aelu are as flexible as the rumors say," Julian quipped, and got an impatient look from Kira.  He cast about with his tricorder. "I'm reading one Bajoran lifeform at the end of the corridor,  twenty meters inside the next room.  There are also three Cardassian lifesigns."

"Then that should be our target," Kira said. "Garak, Julian, you keep a watch in the corridor while we check out that room.  In case anything happens, we'll need backup."

Julian and Garak, keeping their eyes ahead of them, followed their comrades to the bend in the corridor.  Kira, Jareth, Sori and Tansa disappeared around the corner.  Julian took up a position near one wall while Garak slid into the shadows on the opposite wall.  Reluctantly, Julian palmed his phaser but kept it from plain view.  Garak, however, held his alertly, owning the power that came with the weapon.  Neither of them attempted conversation beyond curt warnings to keep a sharp eye out.  This was not the time or place to resurrect their earlier imbroglio, and neither of them wanted to risk stilted, idle chatter that might distract them.  They both knew that this mission had to succeed.  The price of failure could well be too dear for any of them to afford.  Add sexual tension to the mix, and you had a time-bomb waiting to explode.  Neither of them wanted it to blow up in their faces, or Bajor's...or the Federation's.
 

For a moment Kira doubted the wisdom of leaving Garak and Bashir together to defend the corridor.  Things had seemed downright chilly between the two of them as the Aelu ship approached the planet.  Normally, they were as thick as thieves, but they'd gone out of their way to avoid each other.  When Jareth had stood a bit too close to Julian, Garak's normally inscrutable eyes had turned to ice.

Dax had, as usual, employed her seven lifetimes' worth of insight and murmured to Kira, "Trouble in river city."  Kira didn't know what that meant-it sounded like a Terran phrase--but she got the general gist.  Dax, of course, had confirmed Kira's suspicions by quietly saying she'd always suspected Garak had hidden feelings for Bashir...at which point, Kira, not even wanting to contemplate the idea, had shushed her by asking her if she thought this new tension could jeopardize the mission.  Dax intelligently pointed out that Garak was shrewd and pragmatic, not likely to let personal feelings get in the way of a larger goal.  She believed Jareth was the same way, and she didn't have to remind Kira that Julian definitely put his duty first.  Kira didn't trust Garak not to ply his own advantages, but she trusted the doctor to do the right thing.  As far as she was concerned, Garak was the one letting his feelings get in the way.

The door in front of them was sealed with a computer lockout.  Kira tried the old Cardassian door codes she had gotten from Bajoran Intelligence.  None of them, however, worked.  The scientists had apparently changed them.  That in itself was telling.  She started trying different codes, but after ten tries, gave up.  Odds were she was going to trip an alarm-maybe she had already.  She turned to Jareth. "We tried it the hard way, now we'll do it the easy way.  Can you get us inside?"

Jareth twirled a hand and the four of them vanished, then reappeared inside the science lab.  Kira got her bearings instantly and noticed with a cursory glance that this at least looked like a standard Cardassian science lab.  The latest technology, three scientists working diligently at their workstations...

And one lean, blue-eyed, craggy-faced older Bajoran bent over an object that glittered inside a crystal dome.

He looked up and froze.  Kira froze too, recognizing him.  When Garak had told her who the collaborator was, she had had a hard time believing it.  He'd been one of the most valiant fighters, the best under pressure, the most steadfast...and now here he was, in collusion with the Cardassians, unwittingly-or even knowingly-destroying an unsuspecting world.

"Nerys."

"That's Major Kira to you, Kolan," she snapped, glaring at him. "A few things have changed since you went missing at the battle of Yarta."

"Yes, I know." Kolan Naj faced his former Resistance cell colleague with a dearth of apologies or even embarrassment. "How does it feel being the Federation's puppet?"

"Better than being one for the Cardassians," Kira retorted.

"What's the difference?"

"If you don't know, I'm not going to waste my time telling you." Kira pointed her phaser at the Cardassian scientists. "Call for help and I'll kill you."

One of the scientists, a female, smiled coldly, whipped out her own phaser, and stunned Vedek Sori, then Vedek Tansa. "Too late."
 

Bored and on edge, Elim Garak felt all his senses hyper-stimulated.

It was therefore no surprise that he spotted the two armor-clad disruptor-wielding guards exiting, eerily enough, from the wall itself.  But Garak knew they came from a concealed door.  They knew exactly what they were about.

Julian saw them too.

And as one of the guards whirled around and spotted the two intruders, Julian didn't hesitate to fire.  Stunned, the Cardassian crumpled before he could cry out.  Garak shot the other guard, who was too slow in turning around.  The guard didn't crumple to the floor.  He disintegrated instead.

"Why did you do that?" Julian demanded, appalled that Garak would just shoot someone in the back and murder him in cold blood.

"Really, Doctor, we have no time for idle questions.  Someone has been alerted to our presence here.  And even if they haven't, it's only a matter of time before an entire garrison descends upon us." Garak rushed around the corner with Julian on his heels.  Garak was already at the door and manipulating the electronic lock.  It opened within seconds.  The duo charged into the room.  Once inside, Garak pressed a hidden mechanism that sealed off the room.  He had already disabled the station's transporters from the ship using standard Cardassian computer codes, and to his knowledge there were no ships within range.  Not a perfect situation, but they would at least have a greater window of opportunity.

Kira shot him a grateful look mixed with deep frustration. "How many did you encounter?"

"Only two," Garak answered. "I would advise you to search the walls, Major.  This station may be riddled with hidden doors."

"It is," Jareth said, "and they have all suddenly ceased to work."

"How did you do that?" demanded the Cardassian woman.

Jareth smiled mysteriously. "You aren't the only one with secrets."

Kolan Naj noticed Jareth for the first time. "A nice mix.  Starfleet, Vedeks, a Bajoran traitor, a Cardassian exile...but who are you?"

"Don't insult me by pretending you don't know," the sorcerer said sharply. "In ancient times, I was called 'mirani daj'kan.'"

"Emperor of the daj'kani," sneered Kolan. "That's a child's fable."

Jareth removed the daj'zha from his neck and held it up for Kolan's shocked inspection. "This is not a fable."

"Where did you get that?" Kolan gasped.

"It was in my realm.  The Underground.  Your daj'zha landed in my backyard and promptly started to destroy it."

"The Underground?  What's that?  We never planned-" Kolan was caught.

"Then where did you plan to send it, Kolan?" Kira asked calmly. "Bajor?"

"It doesn't matter," Kolan said dismissively. "Obviously, it took an accidental detour.  I thank you for returning it to me-"

"To us," the Cardassian woman said.

"Right.  To us." Kolan extended his empty palm. "So, Emperor of the Daj'kani, I'll take that back now.  We need to re-send it to its original destination."

Kira glared at him. "I think we have our answer now.  The one thing we don't have is the why.  On second thought, I'm not interested in the why."

"That was always your problem, Nerys.  Always focusing on the minor details, never the larger picture." Seeing that Jareth wasn't cooperating, Kolan waved, and the daj'zha left Jareth's grasp.  It didn't float to Kolan's hand, but instead flew to orbit the other daj'zha. "But I see the picture so clearly.  Bajor is weak, and it refuses to use the resources at hand.  It makes a safe treaty with the Cardassians--"

"That you are helping to violate, if I'm not mistaken," Garak said.

Kolan smirked. "I'm not the one who secretly beamed in here attempting to steal what rightfully belongs to the Cardassians.  And I'm not the one who's going to be held up as an example of why Bajorans can't be trusted, who allowed the destruction of another dimension that's existed for thousands of years-"

"I thought you said you knew nothing about the Underground," Julian said dangerously.

"The Underground wasn't our target.  It was only a conduit, one Bajorans have known about for centuries.  My ancestors all knew about the daj'kani and studied them.  How else would I have known about them?  Where do you think the legends of the daj'kani came from?"

"Not from me," Jareth said sharply. "Perhaps from my predecessor--"

"Who obviously had no idea of the damage he could cause," Julian interrupted. "But *you* should, Kolan.  Didn't you have enough of death during the Occupation, let alone collaborating with the Cardassians?"

"What do you know about death, Starfleet?" Kolan jibed.

"Enough to value everything that breathes," the doctor retorted. "Even you."

"I'll tell you what I know about death," Garak said. "I know that you and your friends don't have long to live-particularly when the Cardassian government and the Bajoran government find out about this."

The Cardassian woman laughed. "Are *you* going to tell them?  What lies can you spin this time, Garak?  They'll never believe you."

"In any case," came a resonant, supremely confident voice that made Kira's body stiffen in outraged recognition, "my government has fully sanctioned this endeavor.  Oh, not the scientists' hidden agenda, but the scientific experimentation with the daj'zhas."

Kira whirled around, ready to do battle with the tall, imposing, supercilious Cardassian who had just strode through the door.  At the sight of him, the three Cardassian scientists tore off their smocks and revealed the battle armor underneath.  It was the same beetle-black armor that hugged the muscular body of their leader.

"Dukat," Kira spat.

"What a surprise," Garak said as his eyes narrowed.

Julian knew the mix had just gotten more explosive.  Between the former head of the Occupation, the former Cardassian spy, and the former Bajoran freedom fighter, there was a triangle of tension far more deadly than the one that existed between himself, Jareth, and Garak.  Kira and Garak hated each other, but that was nothing compared to their immeasurable loathing for Dukat.  The feeling was mutual from Dukat's end, but blended with his hostility towards Kira was a fatal and doomed attraction Garak had once revealed in front of Dukat and the Ops crew.

"No pleasure upon seeing me?" Gul Dukat looked dismayed. "I certainly welcome your unexpected visit.  Not so unexpected, actually.  For all their verbal pithiness, Aelu have loose tongues.  At least, they do if they expect to be paid well." He took a brazen step toward Jareth, who had edged toward the daj'zhas. "Although I must confess, they leave out certain crucial details.  Who are you?"

"Someone you will soon regret crossing," Jareth answered directly, his tone matching Dukat's own honeyed voice.  Kira thought briefly that she was going to enjoy watching this. "Just as you have the Bajorans.  Not quite the passive sheep you expected them to be, were they?  Willing to be led to the slaughter of their culture, the shearing of their spirit?  You have only to look at Major Kira, here, right now, to know the fallacy of that assumption.  You've been staring at her long enough to notice-"

"Major Kira is a sensible woman," Dukat interrupted easily. "I'm sure she agrees that this incident should not be over-exaggerated."

"Oh, of course she does." There was a hint of malicious enjoyment in Jareth's face. "In your arrogant delusions.  To say nothing of your lurid fantasies of making her surrender to your bravado."

"Watch out, Dukat," Kira murmured. "Here's someone who can talk as well as you."

"As much as I would enjoy trading insults, I think it best that we strive for mutual cooperation," Dukat replied, to Jareth and Kira. "We have no quarrel with each other."

"That's precisely what you told the Bajorans when you had them in your not-so-iron grip," Jareth said. "And your 'mutual cooperation' will no doubt be appealing on the surface, as long as I give you what you want.  I have a counteroffer for you.  Give me the daj'zhas, and I shall let you and your miserable race live."

"What about the groveling at your feet?" Kira murmured, low in his ear. "You're not going to forget that."

"I could never forgo the groveling," he murmured back, sotto voce. "It's an integral part of the bargain."

Bargain...Both he and Garak were rapidly calculating alterations in their respective plans.  No need to manufacture a Bajoran-Cardassian conspiracy.  There were six witnesses to Kolan's and Dukat's statements-although that didn't mean that Dukat would simply allow them to leave with the knowledge, let alone the daj'zhas, or their lives.  And they *still* had each other to deal with-but later for that, when they weren't facing a common enemy.

They took care of that common enemy in a hurry.  Before Dukat could recover from Jareth's verbal barrage, Kira, Julian and Garak stunned the Cardassian soldiers.  Kolan, engrossed in performing some sort of link with the daj'zhas, didn't make a move to stop them.  Neither did Dukat.  He seemed unperturbed at being distinctly outnumbered.

"I think you can start running now, Dukat," Garak said, sliding toward the computer and manipulating the controls.  He had to free the daj'zha from the crystal dome...

"Oh no, tailor.  I cower before no one.  Do you think those were the only Cardassian soldiers?  I came fully prepared."

"Then send them in, by all means," Kira said boldly.

"We've no time for that," Julian contradicted firmly. "Jareth, how long?"

"Mere hours now." The sorcerer was beginning to look ashen, and Julian berated himself for not seeing the pallor.  Jareth seemed to disregard his own health, and as he took hold of the first daj'zha, he made a gesture and the glass dome surrounding the other one disappeared.  Garak stopped his endeavor and quietly slid the isolinear chip inside the panel he'd just opened.  The modification he'd made was fortunate.  One of the deceivers in this affair had been unmasked in a most surprising fashion.  Now it was the other one's turn.  He noticed with a pang of irritation and agonized affection that Julian was hovering over Jareth.  Damn the doctor's compassion, his selfless love...what Garak had planned would devastate him, perhaps rid him of that innocence once and for all.  But it had to be done.  Garak activated the chip...

The daj'zhas flared brilliantly...but it wasn't an explosion.  Yet it might as well have been from the way Jareth flew backward and hit the wall.  Julian screamed and hurried to his side.  As the blinding glow faded, the sorcerer writhed on the ground, clutching both daj'zhas in one shaking hand.  How he accomplished that, Julian couldn't even begin to fathom.  Sheer tenacity, probably.  "Let them go," he ordered. "Your neurotransmitter levels are off the scale.  The inhibitor has vanished.  We've got to make use of this equipment to synthesize more, then we can-"

"No." Slowly, Jareth, still trembling, rolled over and got to his feet.  He held the daj'zhas, and the same red-and-green light that emanated from them filled his eyes.  He seemed possessed. "Your concern is touching, Julian, but I'm not dead yet."

"An unfortunate circumstance that will shortly be changed," Dukat said calmly. "Pound away at that console all you like, Garak.  Your scheming mind is pitifully inadequate.  So is that fabled Starfleet ingenuity.  The daj'zhas have a life of their own-and I wouldn't advise standing so close to them, Doctor."

"As if your opinion matters to me, Dukat," Julian retorted. "My only concern is for our lives-particularly my patient's."

"Your devotion to your patient goes beyond the call of duty." There was something venal and malicious in Dukat's voice. "But does he share the same anxiety?"

"Devotion," Garak sneered. "As if you would know anything about devotion, Dukat...except maybe to yourself." He should be taking the opportunity to undermine both his enemies...but Dukat's insult to Julian could not go unpunished.

"I don't particularly remember you demonstrating any feeling for anyone else, Garak," his longtime adversary retorted. "Unless, of course, you count lust--something I'm sure Doctor Bashir will attest to."

Dukat smiled coldly, enjoying Garak's deliberate lack of reaction. "You humiliated me by bringing up my fondness for Major Kira during that little systems failure on Terok Nor, not so long ago.  Turnabout is fair play.  Tell me, tailor, how do you really feel about the doctor's 'devotion'?  I'm surprised you haven't plotted the assassination of your rival."

"Enough of this," Jareth said in an eerily quiet voice.  He was too consumed with the sheer effort of manipulating the daj'zha forces, otherwise he would have ruthlessly used the opening Dukat had provided.  Vaguely he wondered why Garak hadn't pressed his own hidden agenda...but none of that mattered now.  He could hear the distant screams of the goblins, Hoggle, even the very stones of the Labyrinth.  Forming the link between the daj'zhas was perilous without Vedeks Sori and Tansa, but they had given him enough instruction that he knew what to do.  But as the daj'zhas approached a union of energies and purpose, Jareth grew weaker.  Only the sight of Julian, standing there helplessly with love in his eyes, endowed him with strength.

Kira had been squaring off against Kolan and Dukat.  Anything to do with the daj'zhas was beyond her abilities.  She stuck with what she knew best, and Garak, having lost his battle with the computer, faced Dukat with her.  But they both kept an eye on Jareth...and they both retreated a step when the daj'zhas flared again and flew right out of his hands.  The energy made Bashir stagger back.  Gasping, Jareth sank to the floor, and Kolan went for the daj'zhas.  So did Bashir, diving to the ground and lying motionless.  Kolan reached for the daj'zhas and they abruptly winked out.  Kira fired at the confused Kolan, missed, then made a leap and nearly tackled him.  The door to the lab had somehow dissolved as a result of the daj'zhas' wild activity, and Kolan, eluding Kira, dashed outside.  Kira was after him immediately.  No one berated her for leaving.  This was a score she had to settle on her own.

Garak felt weak and dizzy.  Somehow the daj'zhas were affecting him too.  The doctor, rising, also looked drained, but he managed to stand upright.  His phaser was gone.  That made three of them unarmed and debilitated.

Complacent in his superiority, Dukat stalked Jareth. "A beautiful sleight-of-hand.  It won't save you at all.  Where are your insults now?  Where is your proud blustering?  You're beaten."

Garak darted to Jareth's side. "I wouldn't rule him out just yet, Dukat.  You do have that unfortunate tendency to underestimate your enemies.  How many times has Captain Sisko bested you?  Even Quark could thwart your grand designs."

"This is none of your affair, tailor." Dukat stood over Jareth . "Move away from him.  Slowly."

"You speak of me as if I'm already dead," Jareth said disdainfully. "May I remind you that the Federation and Bajor will not take kindly to you threatening me?"

"Or us," Garak added. "And neither will the Cardassian government.  Just exactly how much do they know about this 'scientific endeavor,' Dukat?"

"My government," Dukat said deliberately, "fully recognizes the need to safeguard our worlds and our people against potential enemies, such as the Dominion.  Through use of the daj'zha, we have been attempting to discover a way to battle this threat.  You've been away from Cardassia a long time, Garak, so you do not understand the issues that we now confront.  Nor do you understand that what we do, we do not only for Cardassia's well-being, but for Bajor's."

Julian choked on that.

"And the Federation's," Dukat added.   He nodded at Jareth. "Your world can also prosper.  You do not have to attempt to save it on your own.  We could help you use the daj'zhas, if you would simply give them to us.  You are only hurting yourself by keeping them hidden."

"I will only say this once," Jareth said, his speech as calculated as Dukat's, showing the utter falsity of the Gul's words. "I do not have the daj'zhas.  I do not know where they are, but if I did, I wouldn't give them to you.  In fact, I will kill whoever has them."

"I hope you don't mean that," Julian said, bringing his other hand forward and revealing the daj'zhas. "But I'm pleased to see you've recovered your strength enough to make threats."

"There's hope for you yet, Doctor," Garak murmured, inordinately proud of his protégé.

A grin split Jareth's haggard face. "How very clever of you, Julian."

"Extraordinarily," Dukat agreed. "And if you had the intelligence to safeguard the daj'zhas, surely you will have the wit to realize that they require more adept handling than your comrade can provide at the moment."

"Give him a chance to get his second wind, Dukat," Julian said evenly. "Once he does, he can complete his task, and we'll be on our way."

Dukat leveled a disruptor at Jareth. "You overestimate his health, Doctor.  His chances don't look promising at all.  You could improve them by giving me the daj'zhas."

"And what would you do with them?" Julian asked, not faltering once, even though he was suddenly seized with dread.  He was not fool enough to believe he could reason with Dukat.  The man had been responsible for the deaths of millions.  There wasn't a reasonable or redeemable bone in his body.  "Use them for the benefit of us all?  You'll pardon me if I have little faith in your altruism, Dukat.   And even if I could trust you, I've seen what those daj'zhas did to Jareth's world.  That kind of destructive capacity doesn't belong in the hands of your government.  The daj'zhas belong in some Bajoran temple, locked away except from those who can use them without becoming corrupt."

"The noble Federation doctor," Dukat said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Always concerned with saving the greatest number of lives.  But what are those hypothetical lives worth when weighed against these two?  Your intimate friend and would-be lover...and your patient and current lover?"

It was a master stroke.  Garak and Jareth had to admire Dukat's stratagem.  If he had given one of them the choice, if would have been no choice at all.  They would have chosen to keep the daj'zhas out of his hands no matter what the cost, and they would both have contrived some way to rescue Julian, if his life were at risk.  They were both ruthless, confident in their advanced abilities that no human, not even the remarkable Julian Bashir, possessed.  But Dukat in his accursed shrewdness knew this, and so he chose the weakest link, the bleeding heart, the most ethical and compassionate of all of them.  It was a logical move.  It was exactly what they would have done.

And they both wanted to murder him for it.

"You're imagining things, Dukat." Julian didn't waver. "Garak's given me ample instruction in the art of Cardassian psychological warfare.  I know what you're up to, trying to distract me.  These are my friends, and one of them happens to be my patient."

Dukat leered. "I can just imagine how well Garak trained you.  A pretty piece like you, unworldly, almost pure, that's what turns him on."

"I wouldn't have expected you to understand the concept of friendship," Julian said scathingly.

"Ah, but doctor, the question is, how well do *you* understand friendship?  Are you truly willing to sacrifice your friends for these paltry Bajoran artifacts?"

"Do not give them to him, Julian," Jareth said urgently. "You seriously think he won't fire that weapon even if he obtains them?"

"I give you my word, Doctor," Dukat began.

"I can't think of anything I have less faith in." Julian didn't move.  It was a case of 'damned if you do, damned if you don't.'

Thousands of lives versus the two that mattered most.

His duty versus his love.

Kobayashi Maru.  The no-win scenario at Starfleet Academy.

"If you give those objects to him, my world is doomed and so is Bajor," Jareth said, breaking into Julian's indecisiveness. "Give them to me."

"No," the doctor said firmly. "You're not ready.  I won't put you in double jeopardy."

"Give them to him," Garak said forcefully. "Now."

"Garak...you could die too."

"Never underestimate my capacity for survival, Julian." Garak wondered why he had never allowed himself the simple intimacy of saying the doctor's beautiful given name. "You know this is right."

"You've already decided," Jareth added with penetrating insight. "Now..."

It was true.  He had chosen.  He just didn't know it until Jareth reminded him.

Julian bravely turned his back on Dukat.  Instinctively, he let go of the daj'zhas.  It gave him a shiver to see them float in slow-motion toward Jareth.  The sorcerer extended both hands.  Julian noticed with a shock that the sorcerer's hands were bare.  The implication shook him to the core.  Jareth knocked the daj'zhas together.  Once.  Twice.

Dukat fired his disruptor at them.  But Julian was blocking the way.  Garak shouted and raced toward Julian.

The daj'zhas collided one last time, but of their own accord, and Jareth aimed the energy buildup at Julian.  The beam lanced out and pushed Julian out of the path of the disruptor.  Garak dove after the doctor and shielded the young man with his body.  Huddled together, they escaped being burned by the erratic tendrils of energy.  Several of the tendrils demolished the computers into a duotronic graveyard.  Another tendril melted Dukat's disruptor, leaving the man in a rare state of total shock and speechlessness.

Jareth squeezed the daj'zhas so tightly they fused into one.  The energies streamed into his body, going right through the skin, into the blood and bones.  His slim frame absorbed the wild energies, and the daj'zha fed him well with all it had to offer.

Then, the energies vanished.  The daj'zha could spare no more.  And Jareth could take no more.
The red-green-gold-silver sphere tumbled out of his hand.  It didn't have far to fall.  He had already slumped on the cold floor.

Julian and Garak blinked, cleared their vision, and helped each other to rise.  The way they leaned on each other, one would never think there had been a quarrel between them at all.  They stood simply supporting each other and staring down Dukat.

Until Julian spotted Jareth's prostrate form, wrenched free of Garak, and ran to Jareth's side, hitting his communicator on the way. "This is Bashir!  We have a medical emergency!  Jareth is in critical condition.  We need emergency beam-up immediately!"

To Julian's immense  relief, Dax answered. "We're trying to get a lock on you.  Not only did the Aelu captain lock out the engineering controls, he locked out the transporter controls.  We just cracked the code and locked the captain in one of the cabins.  He's been feeding information to the Cardassians about us."
"Yes, yes, we know," said Julian impatiently. "How soon can we be beamed up?"

"Don't...waste time, love," Jareth rasped, his breathing shallow. "Leave...now.  My realm is safe, and you...all that matters..."

"Don't give up on me," Julian said angrily. "Damn it, don't you dare give up!"

Jareth made a weak, fluttering gesture.  The horned pendant materialized in Julian's hand.  "You...all that matters...thank you..."

Kira rushed inside the room and immediately noticed Dukat and Garak frozen, watching the two in the corner. "What the hell happened?" she demanded.

"Jareth is dying, Major," Garak said quietly.

"Like hell he is," Kira muttered, slapping her badge. "Kira to Dax!  Emergency beam-out!"

"We just lost the lock on you again," Dax responded. "Still too much interference, probably from the daj'zha.  Wait...the lock is coming back."

Julian grasped Jareth's hand. "You hear that?  You're going to be all right.   We'll be safely aboard the ship, and then we can-"

Jareth made a strangled sound. "Don't...hide yourself...never."

Slowly, Jareth dissolved like dust motes fading, leaving only bare cold floor, a glittering sphere...and, squatting on the floor, an ashen-faced Starfleet officer who looked like he'd aged five years in the past thirty minutes.  He absently picked up the sphere and held it in the same hand as the pendant.
Garak went over to him and gently helped him up.  He felt his own strength return, but from the way Julian swayed, it would be a long time before he recovered his.

Soberly, Kira spoke into her comm badge. "Kira to Dax.  There's no longer any hurry for beam-up.  But we will need to get back to the ship in the next few minutes."

"Understood."  The way Dax's somber voice gave the word multiple meanings proved how wise the Trill was.

"What happened to Kolan?" Dukat asked Kira.

"He got what he deserved." she said flatly, whirling on him. "And so will you, Dukat, if I have my way."

"Now, Major, I was not responsible for Jareth's unfortunate demise."

"I didn't see you doing anything to prevent it, either," Kira snapped. "I intend to tell anyone who will listen how you callously stood by and-"

"But then you would have to reveal that you undertook a covert mission to Cardassia, apparently with the active participation of Starfleet," Dukat pointed out.

"Neither of us comes off well," Kira replied, undaunted. "But we'll come out better than you will.  Just how far did your government authorize you to take this, Dukat?"

"It doesn't matter now, Major," Dukat said serenely. "That ominous artifact is no more than a pretty bauble.  You're more than welcome to take it back to Bajor with you.  It's a shame your ally had to die for it."

Julian snarled and tried to launch himself at Dukat.   Garak held him back long enough for Kira to signal they were ready for transport back to the ship.  Kira, Garak, Bashir, and the still-unconscious Vedeks disappeared in swirling beams of light.

Left alone, Dukat contemplated just what he would tell the government.  They didn't know anything about the mission Kira and the others had undertaken.  Best not to mention it at all.  There had been an unfortunate accident.  An explosion of some sort.  The daj'zha had been destroyed, and with it any chance for linking with the second one, which was probably lost to legend.  In the future, Dukat would advise keeping a wide berth of any unknown Bajoran artifacts.  They were always more trouble than they were worth.
 

Damned Bajoran artifact.  Damned artifact.  It became a mantra in Julian's mind, giving him an odd, angry sort of energy that sustained him during the long days.  Damned artifact.  Kai Winn has it now.  Must make her happy.  Someone else sacrificed for Bajor.  All my fault.  Should never have let him.  Should never have let myself.  Damned Bajoran artifact.  Infants are all right now.  Odo's security officers fine.  Don't remember anything.  Will be back to normal.  No problems between Cardassia and Bajor, no more deaths, everything normal.  Normal.  Everything just the way it was.  Apologize to Garak, maybe have lunch, maybe in time sleep again or even stop moving.  Try to contact the Labyrinth, no answer.  Screaming at the goblins to come and take me away so I can tell them, tell them I'm sorry, god Hoggle, no, better I can't.  Damned Bajoran artifact.

Stop blaming everyone else, Jules.  Your fault.  Yours.  Just go on as you have, try to survive the days and not think about him...

It had been two weeks since they'd returned to the station.  Two weeks of shutting himself up in the Infirmary, caring for patients.  Staff meetings were his only social activity.  He spent them in a fog, speaking only when Sisko asked him a question.   He ignored everyone incessantly inquiring if he was all right, if maybe he shouldn't take time off.  Everyone except Garak.  The Cardassian had a right to avoid him.  Julian had wrecked that relationship, just like all the others.  He should talk to Miles one of these days, and Dax.  No one-night stand followed by an untimely death warranted this much grief, or loss of his friends.

Oh, come on Jules, he wasn't just a one-night stand and you know it.  One of your last chances for happiness, more likely.  And a waste, gods what a waste, just when he could have done so much.  Try not to think about it.  Refuse to see the counselor.  Damned Betazoid.  My pain is not open for his dissection.  At least Kai Winn has the sense to stay on Bajor.  There's supposed to be some kind of ceremony about the daj'zhas.  I'm not going.  The only places I go now are the Infirmary, my quarters (not for long periods, just to shower and change), the wardroom, and Sisko's office.

Julian strode across the Promenade to the turbolift.  There was a viral outbreak in one of Bajor's provinces.  The outbreak needed to be treated with a controlled substance-available in storage-that the doctor could only obtain through Sisko.  In addition, Julian intended to deliver the medicine himself via shuttle, and stay to treat the outbreak.  He rode the empty turbolift to Ops.

Kira, O'Brien and Dax were all on duty.  When he entered, they all suddenly focused their attention on him.

"Julian," Dax began.

"Later, Jadzia," Julian said softly, walking up the steps to Sisko's office.  He rang the door chime, waited for the office doors to part, and slipped inside.

"We have to do something," Dax said with soft urgency.

"We can't help him if he won't let us," Kira said firmly.

"God." Miles O'Brien shook his head. "You'd think one of us had died instead of someone he only knew for four days."

Kira and Dax both fixed him with drop-dead looks.

"What?" O'Brien said exasperatedly. "It was a horrible death, don't get me wrong.  And Julian did happen to...sleep with the guy." It was obvious he was having a hard time accepting that. "But-"

"It's no wonder he's been avoiding you," Dax snapped.

"He's been avoiding all of us," O'Brien muttered. "Except Garak, who's been avoiding him like the plague.  If Julian needs to talk to someone, he knows where to find me-or you."

"If Mohammed won't come to the mountain..." Dax's voice trailed off.

"Julian's about as stubborn as a mountain," O'Brien grumbled, frustrated by his friend's behavior. "But he's going to crack if he keeps this up.  Spending all hours in the Infirmary, not eating, and God knows when he slept last."

"That's about to change," Dax said quietly. "If I know Benjamin, it's about to change."
 

Benjamin Sisko put his thumbprint on a PADD and approved Julian's request.  The doctor took back the PADD. "Thank you, Captain.  That outbreak needs to be stopped right away.  I'll be taking a shuttlecraft down to Bajor as soon as possible, of course."

"I think we can let Dr. T'Kal handle the situation," Sisko said softly.

Julian looked startled, but recovered quickly. "Sir, Dr. T'Kal hasn't had much experience-"

Sisko held up a hand to forestall the swift objection. "Then this will be an opportunity for her to get some.  She can deal with the outbreak."

"Captain, this outbreak requires careful handling."

"So does the mental and physical state of this station's chief medical officer," Sisko told him, making sure to temper his words with kindness and genuine concern.  After all, it wasn't as if he didn't know the fires of agony that were eating Julian alive, the temptation to just shut down and do his job.  It didn't matter that Julian had only known Jareth a short time.  Obviously there had been the beginning of something between the two, something powerful and strong, with the potential to grow and develop.  Sisko thought of Jennifer dying before his eyes and hurt like hell inside, both for himself and for his chief medical officer.  He saw the familiar haunted look in the face across his desk, the lines on the forehead, the strands of white in the hair.  No way was he going to let Julian go on like this.

"Julian," he began,  "I'm relieving you of duty for a week.  Possibly longer, if you continue to refuse to take care of yourself.  In your present state, you're not fit to handle your duties."

"Don't do this, Captain." Desperation colored Julian's voice. "I'll cut back on my hours...I'll start talking to everyone again.  Just don't do this.  Don't take the only thing I have away from me."

"You've been through a traumatic loss," Sisko said, turning a deaf ear to the plea.  It was a case of tough love.  "I know what that's like."

"Jennifer was your wife," Julian began. "You can't compare the two."

"If I have to confine you to quarters, I will," Sisko warned, his heart going out to the young man struggling so pitifully to pretend his loss didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. "I'd prefer not to do that-you should spend some time relaxing where you choose."

"I had planned to relax in the Underground," Julian whispered. "He invited me..."

Sisko bit back a curse.  "I'm sorry, Julian.  As your commanding officer, and as your friend, I am so sorry.  I understand what you're going through.  But I have to think of the welfare of this station, and your well-being too." Sisko's voice was firm. "Go get some rest.  And if you so much as set foot in the Infirmary, I will confine you to quarters indefinitely.  Dismissed."

Julian dropped the PADD with a clatter and gave Sisko a reproachful look.  Then, slowly, the doctor turned and shuffled out of the office, his graceful, exuberant stride a thing of the past.

Sisko rubbed his eyes and prayed to any deities that would listen to watch over his defeated, despondent CMO and friend.

"And wherever you are, Jareth, if it turns out you're not dead, I might just kill you," Sisko muttered, holding his baseball and drawing comfort from its familiarity. "God help him, and you."
 

Julian swiftly retraced his steps across the Promenade.  He pushed through the crowd with more impatience and roughness than usual and all but stormed to the Habitat Ring.  He was so intent on moving forward that he forgot to look back at the two people following him, not together, but with the same intent.

Kira had gotten one of the Starfleet people to man her station.  Then she'd gone after Julian to catch him and make him talk to her, make him listen, even make him cry.  He had no right to hide from his friends.  Damn it, they needed to share his grief.  She needed to help him, just as he had helped her.  She'd made a promise to Jareth, and it didn't matter that he wouldn't be helping the orphans after all.  This was not about Jareth, it was about Julian and two years of friendship.  She would corner him.  Thank the Prophets he was heading to his quarters.  She didn't feel like having it out in the Infirmary.

Garak, on the other side of the crowd, also had no wish for an audience when he shook some sense into Julian.  He wasn't certain what he would say, whether he would apologize before the young man did, because he knew Julian would be feeling guilty over their altercation, and even though the young man had hurt him, he had also awakened Garak from his complacency.  Everything Garak had hurled at Julian had been spiteful and untruthful...except for that one admission, and he should have known Julian would never believe such slander.  The young man's resilience had left Garak with the bittersweet knowledge that at last Julian was coming into his own, transforming, and it was the only time Garak truly felt Julian was beyond his reach.  Perhaps he still was, but Garak couldn't let him wallow in sorrow and guilt.  At the very least, he could be a good friend to Julian again, and they could both come to the conclusion that Jareth had unwittingly done them a good turn by bringing their unresolved sexual tension into the open.  And after that, they could go on as before.   So he hoped.
 

Empty, empty, empty.  Julian sat on the floor of his quarters and felt hollow.  How could he go on?  He had to go on.  He wished he dared get drunk, but it wouldn't solve anything, only deaden the pain.  Anesthetic, that was all.  He should sleep, Gods knew he needed it...

His door chime sounded.  It was the last thing he wanted, but automatically he sighed, "Come in."

Kira strode inside and dropped to her knees beside Julian. "Hi."

"What can I do for you, Nerys?"

"You can do one of two things," Kira answered. "You can talk about it, or you can go to bed and sleep it off.  Personally, I wouldn't blame you if you chose the second option."

"Sleep," Julian said decisively.

"Okay.  But first, I have to get something off my chest.   Don't talk, just listen.  I've said a prayer for Jareth at the shrine-"

"How fitting.  Insult to injury.  Bajoran mysticism killed him." Julian turned away, being deliberately cruel. "I hope the Prophets are pleased."

"I know you don't mean that," Kira said gently. "I understand what you're going through.  If it's the first time you lost someone you really cared about-"

"It is not the first time," Julian said on a whisper. "Just the worst.  And I feel wretched saying that to you, because of all you lost-"

"Get one thing straight, Julian.  I no longer hate you because you had it easy.  And I don't hate you because Bareil died.  What I do hate is that I had to hear that you think I hate you from a stranger."

Julian gasped, the shock bringing him out of his cocoon of guilt. "He told you?"

"Yeah.  And it's a damn good thing.  You weren't planning on telling me.  Do you know how that made me feel?  I thought we were friends finally.  How dare you go around secretly blaming yourself when I don't blame you?  Tell me one thing.  Do you think you're responsible for Jareth's death?"

"How can I not be?" Julian all but shouted at her. "I endangered him by getting involved with him.   And Garak, too.  If it weren't for my feelings, Dukat would never have targeted-"

"Dukat doesn't need a reason to kill.  Or to make people suffer.  It's just what he does.  And as for feelings, he doesn't have the slightest understanding of how much you cared about Jareth.  Dukat will never love anybody as much as he loves himself.  And don't worry about Garak.  This feud with Dukat goes back for decades.  They don't need an excuse to threaten each other.  You can't blame yourself.  I order you not to."
"Nerys, I wish it were that simple."

"It's not gonna be, Julian," she said somberly. "It's gonna take time.  But I had to do something to wake you up and make you realize you're not responsible.  That it's okay to grieve."

"I fell in love with him," Julian said hoarsely. "I am still in love with him--after only three weeks.  I keep doing that, loving people so quickly and wondering if it's real."

"It's real," Kira assured him. "Who says it isn't, just because you knew early on what your heart was telling you?  I didn't realize I was falling in love with Bareil until Odo pointed it out.  And I wish I'd known it sooner."

"It wasn't just him I fell in love with, Nerys.  It was his world--God, they're all alone now and I can't even contact them just to tell them that he gave his life for them.   And the awful part is, no one remembers him."

"You do," Kira told him. "And Bajor always will if I have anything to do with it.  You might not want to hear this, but they're composing songs about him now.  So he will live on, somehow."

Julian buried his head in his knees, and Kira was afraid she'd gone too far.  Then, gradually, the young man lifted his head.  Circles of black moisture marked his knees.  Kira realized it was the first time she'd seen Julian cry.  His face was slick with tears.

Kira did what Jadzia Dax would do if she were here.

She pulled Julian into her arms and let him sob his heart out.  Along the way, she found she was crying too.  For Bareil, for Jareth, for everything.  She cried and whispered a Bajoran prayer over and over again.  The two survivors of a surfeit of death held each other, weeping until their eyes ran dry and Julian's eyelids shut in tormented sleep.
 

When his eyes opened hours later, Julian saw Garak leaning over his bed.  He tried to lever himself up but Garak's silver-gray, leathery, strong hand pressed on his chest and made it impossible for him to rise.

"Doctor," the Cardassian murmured. "Do not get up under any circumstances.  You have only slept for five hours."

Julian's mouth felt gritty. "Elim...Water."

"I have something better." Suppressing a thrill at the sound of his name on those lips, Garak handed him a glass of something cold.  Julian sipped and coughed at the fiery taste.

"Saurian brandy?"

"That should keep you from getting up any time soon.  It will help you go back to sleep."
"Where's Kira?"

"Resting, as you ought to be.  I followed her to your quarters...I heard you had been put on sick leave...but no one answered when I arrived."

Julian remembered a faint buzzing that he'd ignored. "We were...occupied."

"Yes, I know.  When the Major finally answered the door, she said she finally had to knock you out to get you to sleep.  Really, Doctor-"

"Julian." He sipped the brandy. "If you could call me that on Vedanta Four, why can't you do it now?  Why don't you use my given name?"

"I could say the same thing of you-except I honestly didn't know you had stumbled onto it.  I assume Tain was responsible?"

"Of course." Julian knocked back the brandy and placed the empty glass on his bedside table.  As he did so, he noticed he was wearing blue silk pajamas.  He didn't own any. "You undressed me?"

"With utter professionalism.  Since you're on temporary leave, there's no cause for you to wear your uniform.  And the pajamas are a gift, in case you were wondering.  I've been meaning to give them to you for some time." Garak's admiring gaze beheld the picture Julian made lying on the bed. "They suit you better than I could have imagined."

"I'm sorry I didn't wear that suit for you," Julian said in a rush, before he lost his nerve, and continued to blabber on, unaware of how much he sounded like Jareth when they'd played this scene. "I'm sorry I was insensitive and didn't care about your feelings, that I ignored you all those years.  You have every right to be bitter.  I don't blame you a'tall.  And I'm sorry about that kiss in the Replimat, and--"

Swiftly, Garak leaned over and kissed him to shut him up.  Julian's head spun from excitement and deja vu.  He fumbled for some spot to anchor his hands.  He grabbed the Cardassian's neck ridges.  Elim Garak groaned at the human's innocent touch and broke the kiss. "Great Gul, Julian.  Do you even know what you're doing?"

"Do you, Elim?"

"Yes.  Shutting you up so I could apologize to you in return.  First, I'm sorry that I told you that vicious, jealous lie about Jareth." Another lie to put the matter to rest. "He made some sort of joke about a love-spell, but that was the extent of it.  Second, I am sorry that we've misread each other's emotions so badly.  I had no idea your feelings ran deeper than simple friendship, and so it was unfair of me to blame you for not knowing how I felt, and for my own reluctance to take a thousand chances and tell you.  Third, I should have called you by name more often, and told you mine.  Fourth, you were quite correct.  It doesn't make sense that I calmly sit by while you pursue women, then go ballistic when you embark on a relationship with a man.  The only explanation I can give is, it wasn't that it was a man per se, it was someone who reminded me too much of me."

"And reminded me too," Julian said. "I told you that.  Why do you think I found him so attractive?  He had all the qualities I've come to love about you.  Intelligence, wit, maturity, wisdom, a hint of mystery, a kind of subtle power, exotic appearance, loyalty..."

Garak could scarcely believe his darling doctor was saying all this to him. "He was a remarkable individual," he said generously. "You can add his death to Dukat's long list of senseless, wasteful crimes.  I know, I know, Jareth made his own choice.  But Dukat forced his hand, and when it comes time for his reckoning, I promise you Dukat will pay, both for his role and for taunting you so pitilessly."

"Thank you for restraining me.  I would have torn him apart with my bare hands."

"I doubt that." Garak stroked Julian's shoulders. "You are still tense.  Turn over.  I'm going to give you a back rub."

"Elim, you don't have to-"

"Oh, yes, I do.  I've appointed myself your personal caretaker.  Don't even try to contradict me.  Even the Major admits there's no one else on this station who could match your obstinacy.  She and your other friends give me their blessings and their sympathy.  Now, roll over."

Slowly, Julian did as requested.  The Cardassian's firm hands kneaded the knots from Julian's muscles.  Julian sighed and gasped as each stiff vertebra suddenly relaxed.  Garak had wonderful, masterful hands. <Careful Jules, no taking him for granted again...Ohhh.  That feels incredible.>  The tension fled Julian's body as the massage continued, and before he knew it, he had drifted into a blissful limbo that slowly led him back into slumber.

Elim Garak stayed for a long time just gazing upon the young officer sprawled on the bed.  He listened to Julian's deep breathing and stroked the silky, unkempt hair.  He adored Julian's vulnerability as much as he liked the occasions when the doctor became ruthless.  And he knew he was in serious danger of once again surrendering to that vulnerability.  Finally, after three years, the officer's defenses had fallen, and so had Garak's own.  How infinitely ironic that the one person he had blamed for ruining his relationship with the doctor was, indirectly, the person who had strengthened it. <May the Great Gul protect you, Jareth, wherever you are.  Thank you for dying when you did.  I must say, at least he chose you instead of, say, that Bajoran Dabo girl in Quark's...Lisa?  No, Leeta.  Anyway, *she* won't be dating him any time soon.  You weren't quite worthy of him, Jareth, but you were a damn sight better than anyone else he's fancied, no disrespect intended to Commander Dax, who at least has more spirit and intelligence than half his dates.  And you thought to take him away from me, when all the time, he loved you because you were like me!  Oh, neither of our plans turned out as we hoped, but I did humiliate Dukat, and anyway, I have the better end of the bargain.  You are dead, the Bajorans actually have stopped hating me-well, except for Kira-and I have Julian.  Oh, I know he's weak right now, and that anything he might give me will be to salve his own grief, but I'm not going to let my pride get in the way again.  Besides, he might start out needing me just because he's hurting, but that isn't the whole basis for our relationship.  We have a history, something you and Julian didn't have.  How could you possibly think you know him better than I do, that you could give him something I couldn't?  I know him, and you can never take that away from me.  Enjoy the Great Gul's embrace, Jareth.  I have Julian's, and as I said, that's the better end of the bargain.>

Whistling low, Garak went into the other room and opened the bottle of kanaar he'd brought with him.  He was definitely in the mood to celebrate.  Callous?  Maybe.  Cold?  Perhaps.  But to Julian he wouldn't be anything other than a warm, supportive friend...and more...
 

Julian once again awakened, but this time, Elim wasn't sitting by his bedside.  Julian fought the pang of disappointment and chastised himself.  After the way he'd treated the Cardassian, it was a wonder Garak was around at all.

"Computer, time."

"The time is 1100 hours."

"That late?" Julian kept his voice low so the computer wouldn't respond.  Gods, he needed a shower, a huge breakfast, a cup of coffee...

Julian noticed his computer light was blinking.  He impulsively accessed his message.  Garak's smiling face appeared.

"Julian, if you've accessed this from anywhere other than your quarters-especially from the Infirmary-I'll know right away, and I will personally drag you back by your collar.  Wouldn't like that, would you?  I didn't think so.  I'm sorry I didn't give myself the pleasure of being at your bedside when you awoke, but I had to check the shop.  It doesn't look as if I'll have anything much to do, so I'm closing in the afternoon and going straight to my quarters, where I expect you to be waiting for me and ready to be a glutton after days of not eating.  I hate to see your beautiful face become hollow.  You can use your override to enter-you've done it before.  1900 hours, dear Julian, and not a minute later.  Until then, *sahneshta*."

The word sounded like a Cardassian endearment, and Julian was lost in a fog as the screen went blank.  Dear God, invited to two momentous dinners within a month by the two people he loved most.  The one was gone...should he really leap into something with the other?  And dared he delay?  He had lost Jareth.  Callous as it might seem, he didn't want to be alone, and Elim had always understood him better than anyone on the station...But before he threw himself into something with Elim, he had to pay attention to his other friends.

Julian decisively headed for the shower.  He was going to shower, dress, grab some breakfast, see if either Jadzia or Miles or Nerys were free...he had so much to do...he'd been needing time to himself anyway...the pain still lingered but he had to do something to keep from isolating himself...don't hide yourself away, Jareth had said, and that, at least, Julian could do for him.  It was time to start living.  He contemplated dealing with his secrets but decided he wasn't ready to face that yet.  First things first, and friends first.
 

Five short hours later, Elim Garak strolled into his quarters, listened in bliss to the strains of music from Cardassia's Hebitian period, and sighed in satisfaction as Julian rose from the couch to greet him.  Garak took a moment just to admire the dear man.

Julian was wearing the suit.  And he looked even more handsome than he had when Garak had last seen him in it...but then, this was a far more momentous occasion than the last one.

"Stunning," Garak said, unknowingly echoing Jareth's compliment.  Julian just smiled at the Cardassian, who looked incredible in his red-gold tunic and black trousers.  Garak nodded at a simply laid table with a single lighted candle that Julian recognized as distinctly Cardassian.  Two wineglasses graced the table as well.  Julian presented Garak with a bottle of 2293 Chateau Picard Cabernet Sauvignon.

"How thoughtful," Garak said, deftly opening the bottle and smelling the cork appreciatively. "I admit, I prefer kanaar, but this has a pleasant aroma.  This winery is reputed to produce the premiere wine of Earth.  And, if I'm not mistaken, the family also produced--"

"Jean-Luc Picard," Julian said. "I met him when the Enterprise visited the station years ago.  An impressive man, and from all accounts, a brilliant captain."

"Mmmm, yes.  I was, in fact, privileged to meet Picard some years ago during the war."

"Is that true?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not." Garak winked as he poured the wine. "Will you not sit down, Julian?"

"Anything I can help you with?"

"Oh, no.  The replicator did all the work.  We have rather a mixed menu tonight.  I hope you don't mind.  I was in the mood for an eclectic meal."

"I don't care what you're serving.  I'm starved.  I ate a huge breakfast with Jadzia today, but I'm still famished." Julian seated himself, and Garak followed suit--no pun intended.  Julian softly sipped the wine and slowly dug into the meal.  Again, he couldn't remember what he ate, and he and Garak talked about everything under the sun, Garak periodically reminding Julian to slow down.  They didn't mention Jareth until mid-meal when Garak broached the subject.

Julian hesitated. "Are you sure you want to hear about him?  I thought this night was for you."

"It is for both of us, Julian.  You are still grieving, after all." Garak was earnest. "I want to talk about him.  I'm grateful to him for the unexpected gift he gave me.  He reached a part of you I had nearly abandoned faith in.  I always knew it was there, but you concealed it with meaningless flirtations with people who weren't worthy of the attention you were giving them.  I had despaired of you ever giving up your pursuit of Commander Dax--but it seems you have."

"Only since a few months ago, when Altovar attacked me."

"I wouldn't know.  I was only present in your mind as a disguise for that telepathic leech.  I remain impressed by that.  I had thought you trusted me utterly."

"I let you think that," Julian retorted.

"You are skilled in many things, but until now I hadn't counted deception as one of them."

Julian grinned. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Elim."

"And I cannot wait to know you fully, Julian." The purr in the Cardassian's voice heightened Julian's excitement...or was it anxiety?

"Is that in the Biblical sense?" the young man teased archly.

"Please, don't even mention that religious tract.  It's vastly overrated if you ask me.  How your ancestors could be so willing to go to war over its words--"

"Jareth agreed with you," Julian said without thinking. "But I believe he was a bit jealous.  He wanted humans to continue to worship him."

"More power to him, as the Terran saying goes.  I give him full credit for style.  It's not everyone who's willing to take on the onus of being a god.  Although some of your fellow Terrans might see him as Lucifer from that same religious tract.  He ruled over misshapen creatures, he put your race through torture, he thought he moved the stars-"

"For some people it's better to reign in hell than serve in heaven, as Milton said.  It's only our ignorance that makes us label them as demons.  And anyway, even the devil deserves some sympathy."

"Your heart is too generous," Garak said sincerely. "It always gets you into trouble.  I had hoped I could teach you to be a bit more ruthless, a bit harder, more unfeeling...but then, I find myself thinking, why bother?  That charming innocence has more destructive capability than the devious brains of ten Guls.  It certainly fooled me...I ought to have known that people are never exactly as they seem...but you come close."

"We are never who we are," murmured Julian.

"What a profound statement.  But in this case, it doesn't apply."

"Oh, and why not?" The flip response had a serious edge.

Garak laid his napkin down and rose from his chair.  He was standing over Julian within seconds.  The young man gazed up at him with a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and expectation.  Garak took both Julian's hands in his.

"Why waste words telling you," the Cardassian whispered, "when I can show you instead?"

Julian started to rise, but Garak stopped him, just as before.  The Cardassian leaned down and kissed him, slowly, with a masterful, tender touch that obliterated Julian's memory of that earlier savage, punishing kiss they'd shared.  Julian's hands wandered up and caressed the neck ridges, traced the serrated scales on the face--no, they felt more like cobbles, no, pebbles, and smooth, warm ones at that.  His finger pressed against the spoon-shaped indentation on Garak's forehead.  The Cardassian trembled and paused for an absurd second to wonder why the human was responding like this.

"Julian," he murmured huskily, "are you sure this is what you want?"

Sifting through complex emotions, Julian found the answer easily.  He squeezed Garak's neck ridges.  This time, it wasn't an untutored touch, but a purposeful and tangible one.  And it provided Garak with the answer he desired.

Julian wanted him.

It was enough.

"Because," the Cardassian continued a bit breathlessly, "I know it is what I want.  And if you're doing this out of grief--"

"A little," Julian admitted, "but if I didn't love you, it wouldn't be fair to you, if I didn't, but I do.  You can love more than one person."

"Yes, it's possible to love two people at once," Garak murmured, "but I want to be the only one in your life.  Don't make me any promises, or swear that I am the only one, but just know I will not be content with just one stolen night."

"I know." Julian kissed him passionately, repeatedly, hurriedly. "I know, Elim, and neither will I."

Turning his head, Garak avoided those tempting lips, an excruciating effort, but he'd dreamed of how this night would be, and a quick coupling was not in his fantasies. "Is there some compelling reason you hurry through everything except your medical duties?  Really, Julian, I must teach you how to savor the moment, how to linger."

"And how do you plan to do that?" The question was subtly teasing.

The Cardassian's eyes lit with unholy brilliance, and he lifted Julian into his arms without any effort.  Finally, he thought, his dear doctor had learned the art of flirtation, the covert signals, the understated challenges.  He carried the young man into the bedroom and slowly laid him on the bed.  It took his breath away, seeing Julian here at last, where he should have been three years ago.

The golden-hazel eyes smiled up at him, but that expressive mouth trembled.  "What are you going to do with me?"
 

"Nothing you don't want me to," Garak murmured, "but you don't know what you want yet."

"And you're going to tell me."

"Wrong, *sahneshta*.  I'm going to show you."

Garak didn't give himself time or space to reconsider.  He strolled to the replicator and ordered a bottle of lubricant.  He winked at Julian, then went and placed the bottle on the bedside chest of drawers.  He opened one of the drawers and removed something black and shiny.  Garak caught Julian's slender wrist and deftly tied it with one end of a soft black leather strap.

"Ah, torture.  The perfect end to a romantic evening."

"Keep being flippant and I'll tie you up, then leave you here." Garak fastened the strap to the bedpost, then set about treating Julian's other wrist the same way, binding his dear doctor just tightly enough so he wouldn't be tempted to escape.

"Go ahead, leave me," Julian said easily.

Garak had never seen the young man so comfortable with these verbal games, or with the wilder side of sexuality.  He'd always thought Julian would be a rather tame lover, but he was rapidly revising that opinion.  He grinned at his beguiling captive, then went to the drawer and took out another quintessential seduction tool--a ceremonial knife.  He balanced the blade carefully, playing with it, then came back to the bed and proceeded to skillfully cut to shreds the suit he'd worked with such care.

"Elim, I'm shocked," Julian said playfully. "You made that suit."

"I always keep a backup copy of everything I make.  What's the fun of clothing if you can't ruin it once in a while?" He put away the knife, then brushed aside the remains of the fabric and gazed admiringly on the caramel flesh he'd just uncovered. "Besides, you were born with a perfectly exquisite covering..." He began to caress that beautiful body-his at last to possess, to touch, to love.

Julian shuddered, unable to refrain from showing the joy he felt.  Once he would have feared the Cardassian's intentions, once he would have run the other way and not looked back.  Jareth had given him an immeasurably precious gift by releasing him from his preconceptions, his inhibitions, the mental and emotional barriers that had made him a stranger to the full experience of love.  How could he ever have feared what he felt for Garak?

"Elim..." He tried to speak through a fog of delicious sensation. "I want to touch you..."

"All in good time, doctor." The title became an endearment on Garak's tongue.

"Then if you won't let me touch you, undress for me," Julian said boldly. "I want you to do it."

Garak blinked in surprise, started to balk, then thought better of it.  He wasn't accustomed to displaying his charms flagrantly, but for his dear doctor-his brazen, unpredictable, delightful doctor-he could make an exception.  With a slow smile, he set about removing his clothing with a great deal more care and thoroughness than he had used on Julian's apparel.  He felt the prickling of heat on his scales urging him to divest himself of the infernal-but tasteful-garments.  He watched Julian's wondering expression and smiled.  So open, so free with emotion, so unguarded.

Julian couldn't keep from staring almost avariciously at the wealth of silver, sexy scaled skin that Garak exposed to him.  He didn't need to be told that Garak was allowing him into a realm of intimacy few had ever been privileged to glimpse.  Tears pricked at his eyes and he tried to blink them back.

Garak paused in the act of removing the black trousers. "Am I that frightening?" He repressed any inflection of fear.  Suppose Julian found him unpleasant to look at?  Too alien?  Too monstrous?

"No," Julian said. "I'm just...happy, Elim."

The Cardassian relaxed and dared to tease him. "I thought human females are the ones who cry when they're happy."

"Oh, come here," Julian growled.

"Ah, ah," Garak chided, slowly removing his trousers, then his briefs. "Patience, pet.  You were the one who wanted to see me, and now I will have your honest opinion.  What do you think?"

Julian subjected the Cardassian to a slow, caressing perusal with his eyes.  Exotic ridges covered Garak's body in an artful design.  Long meandering swirls decorated the tailor's muscular physique.  Julian had always been enchanted by his completely alien beauty, never shrinking from it as he did from Gul Dukat's sinister looks.  It was the personality, the character, that made the man, not the exotic appearance.  He allowed himself one brief reflection on Jareth.  As handsome as the man had been, without his charm, intelligence and surprisingly complex nature, he would have been 'just another pretty face.'  No one could accuse him or Garak of being anything less than fascinating even without their otherworldly and alien beauty.

The young man admired Garak all over again, letting his eyes feast on Garak's charcoal nipples, puckered and hard from arousal...and they weren't the only things that stood proudly for Julian's inspection.  He'd had clinical detachment when he'd examined Garak countless times in the Infirmary, but this wasn't a time to be detached.  This was a time to worship that beautiful manhood with his eyes, and later on, with all of his body...

Garak moved swiftly, eliciting a yelp of protest from the young man.  He could not bear the gaze for one moment more.  Those eyes were hungry, worshipful, desirous, loving, accepting, telling him more than inadequate words could express.  And as if that weren't proof enough, Julian's slender manhood was fully erect, his golden-brown nipples were tight nubs, and there was a soft sheen of sweat on the lovely skin.  Garak told himself he truly did not deserve the gift he was about to receive...the gift Jareth had offered to him, and delivered on in ways the sorcerer could not have foreseen.

Julian waited with bated breath for Garak's touch to descend, for the Cardassian to cover him with that superb fleshly body.  He gasped as the rough skin abraded his smooth chest, but he also felt the softness as Garak's fingers learned his body.  Then, the Cardassian repeated the languid journey with his tongue and teeth.  Over and over again Julian had his skin-cells stimulated into an excruciatingly pleasurable sensitivity, and under Garak's command, his body was no longer his own, yet for only the second time he felt more at home inside it than he ever had in his life.

And when Garak moved to enter him, Julian was overwhelmed, speechless except for small gasps and cries.

"Elim..." The name became a plea as Julian felt the hot Cardassian cock slide inside him and fill him. "Release me."

"Oh, I fully intend to," Garak assured him, kissing him ardently. "You will find release, dearest Julian, when I think you're ready...Oh, did I misunderstand?  You wish me to untie you?" He flexed his hips, and Julian sobbed in joy. "Was that a yes?" Garak kissed the sweat-streaked, smooth golden brow, then lavished attention on those lush, inviting lips. "Well?"

"Shut up," Julian whispered, bucking and further impaling himself on the tailor's rock-hard erection, which felt as if it could meld with his own flesh and never be apart from it again. "Just be quiet..."

"With pleasure." Garak's eyes closed and he began to move sinuously, sensually, stroking Julian from without and within.  The union was powerful beyond words, beyond thought, even beyond emotions.  Julian was bound not by the cool leather-which made the experience even more wild and unforgettable-but by his infinite love for this man.   But he found great gratitude for the restraints at the moment when Garak stroked him into a powerful, shattering climax that preceded the tailor's own endless, searing, potent release inside the depths of Julian's warm, receptive body.  Julian's arms stiffened, thrashed, flailed about, but he gloried in the odd freedom his 'captivity' gave him.  He held Garak securely and safely with his thighs, with his legs, and didn't let go until they were both completely spent and bathed in the languor of their lovemaking.

Garak gently reached up with what little strength remained in his arms and untied Julian's arms.  The two men enfolded each other in an embrace that went on for an eternity.  The Cardassian rested his head on Julian's chest and sighed deeply.

"Thank you, Elim," Julian murmured.

"You're...quite welcome, *sahneshta*."

"What does that mean?"

"Many things.  Precious object, cherished one, jewel of my heart..."

"Beloved?"

"Well...yes.  As a matter of fact, that's the only meaning it has." Garak coughed. "Forgive me for dancing round the point.  I find sentimentality-"

"I understand, *aziz*." Julian brushed his lips over Garak's spoon-shaped indentation. "That means beloved too.  In Arabic.  Besides, I've got enough sentimentality for both of us."

Garak, too sated to respond to the caress, kissed Julian's neck. "One of the many things I find irresistible about you."

Julian stifled a yawn. "Not too much at the moment, I hope.  You've worn me out."

A lazy smile and white teeth flashed in the darkness. "That should teach you to take better care of yourself."

"Actually, I was hoping you would do that."

"What a Herculean task.  A full-time job, you might say."

"Mmmm, it does have its compensations...You don't have to do it forever, just for this week."

"Yes, well, now that my shop is temporarily closed for renovations, I will be able to devote the next few days to taking care of you-and receiving whatever 'compensations' you think fit."

"Sounds like a bargain," yawned Julian, snuggling against his warm lover.

"One that will benefit both of us for a long, long time, dearest Julian.  Good night."

"Oh, it's not time to go to bed yet, Elim.  Just give me a few hours to recuperate, then I'm going to 'compensate' you beyond your wildest dreams.  So sleep while you can."

"And what delicious ideas do you have in that beautiful mind?"

"You'll just have to be surprised."

"I can hardly wait, my dearest doctor." Silently thanking Jareth, the Bajorans, Dukat, Kolan and the daj'zha, Garak fell asleep in Julian's embrace.
 

EPILOGUE

He held the object in his black-gloved hand and contemplated just what it had wrought.  It had brought him full circle to this window, this land, this solitude.  It had given him the greatest happiness and the deepest sorrow.  And it had returned to him, proving that what goes around comes around.

And Jareth wanted no part of it.  It was as dangerous in its blandness as it had been in its power.  It was a reminder of what he had lost...the opportunities...Julian...

And those cursed Prophets, wormhole aliens, whatever one called them, they had rubbed his nose in his desolation. <The mirani daj'kan must cede when he has promised, but in ceding, he will inherit the universe...>

Jareth hurled the daj'zha against the wall.  It didn't shatter, just bounced off the stone and rolled across the floor, coming to a rest at Hoggle's feet.  Hoggle gingerly picked up the sphere. "So that's what caused all the trouble.  It don't look like much now."  Jareth didn't respond to that, but it wasn't his usual condescending silence.  Hoggle strolled over and placed the daj'zha in Jareth's unresisting hand.  The Goblin King unconsciously clutched the sphere in his hand.  "You gonna return it to them?" Hoggle asked hesitantly.

"Of course," Jareth replied. "Do you know there's a sect that worships me on Bajor?  I can return easily."
Hoggle grunted. "Least you got something good out of this.  So when do you go back?"

"Not right now," Jareth replied softly.

"Why not?"

"I don't have to explain myself, Hoggle.  The Labyrinth needs time to recover." Jareth kept his back to the dwarf. "I need time to recover from defeat."

"What defeat?" Hoggle threw up his hands. "I don't understand ye, and I never want to.  What have ye got to be all sulky about?  So ye nearly died.  So ye had to wrestle with some weird Prophets-"

"It wasn't them I had to wrestle with.  It was my past, Hoggle."

"So what else is new?"

Jareth didn't respond directly to that. "He was Sarah's descendant.  I should have known better than to fall for his smile."

"Who?" Hoggle nearly slapped himself for being an idiot. "Oh.  Well, no wonder ye fancied him so much.  You going to let him go just like the little missy?"

"Nothing to concern yourself with, Hogbrain." The insult came out as a pet name. "He's not mine, anyway.  Garak should be-"

"Who?"

"Never mind." Jareth strode out of the room, leaving Hoggle with an uncharacteristically solemn look on his face.  He never thought he'd feel sorry for Jareth, or want to help him.  But Jareth didn't understand you had to fight for people, and Hoggle was going to teach him.   And this Garak, whichever one of those strange people he was, was no match for Jareth when he got going.  Hoggle almost felt sorry for him too.  Almost.  God, he was getting soft.  He couldn't afford to.  There was too much to be done.
 

Standing on the tower, Jareth knew what had to be done.  He had to return to Bajor.  There were diplomatic arrangements to be made, politicians to woo...doctors to seduce once more, to love, and never let out of his sight again.  He couldn't see Julian through the crystal-the fault of those damned Prophets-but that would be remedied soon enough.

As calmly as he could, he turned away from the sunset and headed towards his bedroom to plan his traveling wardrobe.  The right impression was more than crucial, and the impression he made would ensure that he never again left that distant world, or his distant but so achingly near love.
 

Julian stirred in his sleep and woke up for one painfully vulnerable moment. "My love..." It was a faint, confused whisper.  Garak mumbled something and hugged Julian more tightly.  Sighing, Julian lost himself to the warmth, and to the dark comfort of two very different but complementary loves.   He was safe and happy, he loved and was loved in return.

Life was good. <My love.>  Life was truly good.
 

END
 

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