Title: Black Bottle: Chapter 5: Grey Anatomy
Author: Hermit
Fandom: Star Trek:DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: PG-13 to be safe
Yadda: Not my characters, made up, just for fun etc.
Chapter 5: Grey Anatomy
Julian shifts in his chair uncomfortably. He can't stand up. Not with the lump in his trousers that has been there for, oh, two days now. Almost non-stop. He was hoping a drink would relax him, and it did, but then his mind began wandering, wandering to places it aught not to in public, and now he can't leave his seat, though he desperately wants to. Idiot.
Julian really does do stupid things all the time. Exhibit A: Jadzia. That was a stupid thing, or rather a long contiguous line of stupid things. An elaborate tapestry of idiocy. She said so herself. He came on too strong. If he had half a brain when he was around her, he would have known that. He was too cocky. Impulsive. Impatient. Not that she doesn't have a full measure of those qualities herself, but it could have been a partnership to last both of their lives. He's certain of that now, hindsight being what it is. So yes, that was a very stupid thing. And that is why he wants to talk to her now. He loves that woman still in ways he can not describe. That's as far as he gets when he tries to put the feeling into words. Maybe that's why he has never outright said it to her. It would just come out something like, "Jadzia, I feel ineffable about you," which is equally stupid.
As he sits in the shadows of the balcony in Quark's and looks down at her, he comes to the conclusion that he needs to understand why that is, and what exactly he did wrong with her so that he doesn't end up with two Jadzia's in his past, two relationships that could have been perfect and beautiful but never took flight, or crashed and burned as soon as they got off the ground.
He wants to do it right this time. As opposed to all the other times.
He does do some really stupid things. Exhibit B: Leeta. Nice girl. Beautiful. Sparkling personality. Huge ..... mistake. She's bringing Jadzia a drink on a small tray. Just one. Looks like a black hole. Serious drink for a weeknight, especially since she's supposed to go crawling through the station's innards in the morning with the chief. Perhaps she's nervous about something. Julian certainly is. Maybe this isn't the right time to talk to her. She gives Leeta a friendly smile and he can see the echo of Jadzia's face reflected in the dark mirrored table top. He wants to know that this isn't another mistake. That he isn't destined to do it wrong this time too. No. He knows it isn't. He has faith; and Quark is right. He missed his opportunity. She's happily married now, and, at least for now, not a possibility. So really what he wants is some kind of closure.
He waits, counts to fifteen. Thinks about tennis.
Julian stands, swallows the last gulp of his drink, and gathers himself to approach her. That's when Worf enters the bar. Jadzia sees her husband, stands and smiles as Worf approaches at a draft-horse trot, and Worf leans over the whole table to kiss her before sitting down. Julian replaces himself in his shadowed seat with a disappointed huff and watches them. Jadzia's face is alight as she speaks to Worf, animated, beautiful. Worf, though never any of those things, sits as quietly enraptured as Julian himself. Shifts coming to an end and the evening winding up, more people start to trickle in, and Julian decides that he has missed his opportunity again, and it's time to leave.
What would he have said to her anyway? Said. Asked. He isn't sure what the intent was, but it was focused on her. She is the proverbial 'one that got away.' Is that why he's been so fixated? He hopes not. Will he only be enamored with Elim as long as he keeps him at a distance? As long as he draws out this initiation period? He can't say that now that they're closer than ever before that he is any less interested. Definitely not. But will time change that? He fears, although it seems impossible from this vantage point, that the newness will evaporate, which it must, and he will be left exposed, dessicated and alone with a fickle, ungrateful heart. He left his first love for something new. But then, so did Elim. Maybe that means something.
Julian will sleep alone tonight. Garak insisted that they take some time to acclimate to this, not time apart, just a short few days to let it sink in, maybe jar any loose fears or second thoughts to the surface. No need to rush, he keeps saying. When he says that Julian thinks about contradicting him, as there most certainly is a need, but he holds his tongue. He knows he's right, and he said himself that slowly, now that he knows for sure what he is putting the breaks on, is definitely better. And it's not like last week, no Garak and no reason. He knows when he will see him again, and although it's difficult to stay focused on anything else during the day, he's not sick with worry over it. He will see Elim again outside of their public interaction. He trusts that he will as Elim said as much. Two more days.
In the meantime, Julian has found some interesting reading material in the station's computer and in Starfleet's medical library. Very interesting. He hasn't poured himself out over a scholarly text like this since his first genetics seminar.
The penis is a cylindrical organ varying in size from 20 centimeters to 38 centimeters contained within a pseudo-cavity in the pelvis. It is made up of five slender strips of cavernous erectile tissue around the tube of the urethra, many inner filaments of connective tissue, and covered by several dermal layers with secreting glands. The internal cavity keeps the organ warm, protected, and hydrated when it is not protruding from the body in either a flaccid or erect state. Connecting to the urethra behind the bladder is the ejaculatory duct. Sperm cells formed in the gonads located to either side of the penile cavity are stored in the vas where they mix with fluid from the sepenal, a small organ analogous to the prostate gland. When the penis becomes erect it may stay within the cavity, though in some individuals the cavity is too small to contain it fully. The penis may be withdrawn or pushed from the body voluntarily with contraction of the urogenital fascia. It emerges from the opening of the penile cavity via the labrosa which are comprised of two thick cords of connective tissue that stretch from the ischium to the pubis. The labrosa become engorged in tandem with the penis and after it emerges, lock it into place outside the body, slipping into the Kalack Recesses, two small grooves near the bulb of the penis, eliminating the need to retain voluntary pressure with the abdominal muscles. The penis is of the mamunian type despite being internal. It has a glans and a tactile, nerve-driven connection to the brain and ejaculatory response.
"Hi Julian."
Exhibit C: Entertaining his curiosity while still in uniform. He doesn't jump, but taps the finger that had been hovering over the button to close the article should just this situation occur Hits it pretty hard too.
"What are you still doing here? It's past eleven."
"Just catching up."
"You can't catch up on time," Marcia accuses.
"No. But if I can't sleep, I might as well do something useful with the time."
"You sleep in your uniform?"
Julian smiles a little guilty wry smile from one corner of his mouth but says nothing more. Marcia steps into the small office and replaces a medical tricorder in a cabinet far above her head. She reaches, stands up on her toes. He is tempted to just take it from her and put it there himself, but he isn't sure she would appreciate that.
She pushes it with a single fingertip over the lip of the shelf and settles back to flat feet. "This place wasn't built with short people in mind."
"This place wasn't built with humans in mind."
"True. How short is the shortest Cardassian do you suppose?"
He has to hold his breath a second, bite the inside of his cheek hard to keep "nine inches" from popping out of his mouth. "Probably not as short as the shortest human," he finally gets out.
"I am not the shortest human."
Julian grins at his computer screen now filled with prion research. "I didn't say you were."
"You implied it."
"I never."
"You better not."
"What are you still doing here?"
Marcia sighs. "All the stuff that the new kid gets to do every night until someone else takes her place as the new kid."
"Ahh. I've been there."
"Sure you have."
"I have. I was a resident once."
Marcia chuckles. "Uh huh. No frills or special perks for the star of Starfleet Medical?"
"Well..."
"Uh huh. I bet you've never even seen the innards of a tricorder, much less had to clean or calibrate one."
Julian gapes. He loves the fact that this tiny woman is so bold, with everyone, but especially him, her direct superior, but it's frankly surprising sometimes, especially considering that she really is still very new to this place. Somehow she knows exactly how far she can push it without getting into trouble, and she hardly knows him. He thinks. "I most certainly have so."
"Uh huh," she says, and starts putting order to Julian's relative clutter around them.
"Why do you have it out for me?" he asks with a chuckle, though he suspects she's just playing now with no real aim or malice aforethought.
"Because anyone who would recruit me for their team, despite the numerous character references from my professors describing me as difficult or sarcastic, is just looking for trouble, Sweetheart," she says, blue eyes smiling and looking right through him. There were a few less than shining quotes on her file, it was true, but they were all from professors that Julian knew from experience had no 'student side manner', and he dismissed them out of hand when he read them and is continuously glad he did. "And anyone who goes looking for trouble deserves what they get and then some."
Julian has always believed that any two people, if they play their cards right, can form a working relationship. It's only logical. Of course some matched pairs would find it easier than others, naturally, but taken on a sliding scale, Julian thinks he could find a friend, companion, or lover in just about anyone who was similarly willing. His mother would disagree completely of course, being a person who thinks of the stars as fortune tellers rather than spheres of ignited gas, and thinks of couples and friends as soul mates rather than people who happen to find convenient social connections with each other, but then, maybe she's right, and that's why he hasn't been home in years. But out of necessity, surely two disparate personalities can find each other on that scale, meet somewhere in the middle. Even Dax and Sirella managed to hammer out an agreement they could both live with. Hammer, axe, scratch tooth and nail, but they did it. For Worf. For each other.
Though, when it comes to different species, Julian's philosophy doesn't have much to stand on. Kind of slides off the map and into 'there be monsters here' territory. The differences between a Vulcan and a Nausican would undoubtedly be insurmountable. Julian can imagine that under some extreme life and death situation, a pair like that might be able to coexist for a time, work together for as long as was necessary to keep themselves alive. But as soon as one gained an edge, it would probably end badly.
He and Elim are not fighting for their lives. Neither is Marcia. Maybe she's just, right, and that is why the words are clamoring over each other to get out of his mouth now. Because he can't talk to Miles. Because he can't talk to Jadzia. And maybe because she is who she is.
Still it is pretty remarkable when he thinks about it, that a human doctor and a Cardassian "tailor" have found common ground enough to stand on. It seems a tight spot at that. He wonders if someday they'll try to push one another off their little island. If someday Elim is no longer convinced of Julian's rightness, will it just end then? And furthermore, he isn't sure he can put Jadzia's rightness into perspective now. He keeps trying, talking himself through it. See it not for the enormous star it appears to be before his eyes, blindingly brilliant, but as just another point of light behind him. Will he be able to look out on a starry night ten years from now with nostalgia and not regret? Can he take Elim for what he is? He can love him, he knows that. He's been doing that for some time, but being with him is something completely different.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"I...I need some advice. I think."
"From me?" she says, disbelieving. Then her face changes for a split second, and in that flash he sees some kind of recognition, an expectation fulfilled.
"Well. Maybe. It's occurred to me that you're the closest neutral friend I think I could talk to about this. Simply because you haven't been here long, and you seem to have an open mind and whatnot." He shrugs, atypically nervous.
Marcia raises an eyebrow, just one. Very high. It gives Julian pause, and he considers stopping right there. "Go on," she says though, and that strange expression goes from a warning to a command.
"I'm...Well, I have this friend," he says and watches as her expression turns to patent disbelief. A smile flutters across his face. He just didn't want this conversation to get too serious. "He's sort of on the verge of beginning a new relationship with someone. Someone...really special. But. There's this other person too. Someone he's been crazy about for a long time but nothing ever came of it. He was really sort of obsessed with her, for a long time, even though he dated other people, he never quite let go of her, you know? But this time, this new relationship. He fears that, if he goes through with it, that that will be the end. He's going to leave the old flame behind. He's dropping out of pursuit of her in favor of this other, never to return. It's a big fork in the road. Plus, it's complicated by the nature of the new relationship. It's just kind of, touch and go at the moment."
Marcia takes all this in but doesn't spring into action as he expected she would. She always has a response, to everything. That's just the way she is. "Ok, so what exactly is your 'friend's' problem? So he has two interests. One is mutual. Not much of a pickle if you ask me." She almost appears to blush a little after she says it. Annoyed? Julian isn't sure what that means either.
Julian leans in closer to her and lowers his voice though there isn't anyone around. "Do you think that there are some people who just can not possibly have any kind of relationship? Or combinations of people who are just not capable of falling in love? Completely incompatible for some reason?"
Marcia scowls a moment in thought. "If that were true then certainly there would be people who were just destined to be perfect for each other. But what would the point of that be if there is no way to tell if the person that happened to share your turbolift the other day was your soul mate? Seems unlikely that if you happened across each others' paths that you'd be opposite people in every way. How then do you meet someone if you have nothing in common?"
"But what about people who...are just fundamentally different. Different backgrounds, different upbringings, different ways of thinking and seeing the universe." Different DNA, different thermodynamic homeostasis, his mind suggests.
"Well you know what they say. Love conquers all."
Julian slumps. She's avoiding. "Come on. I mean really what do you think are the chances of something like that lasting? I just can't justify leaving behind someone who I feel in my gut is someone I could spend the rest of my life with on the strength of this other person's insistence that I'm the one that they are meant to spend their life with. Not that I don't have feelings for this person, I do. But I remember the up and down of the past few years. I remember how lonely it's been, how much I hate starting something new, having those feelings, only to have it turn sour and then when I look back at her, she's drifted even further away. Each time it happens, each time I make that gamble I feel like the possibility of catching up to her shrinks."
"Julian, you're no stranger to hard work, I know, even if I poke fun at you. And that's what my mom always told me. Love is hard work. No matter who it's with. If you find someone who is just the epitome of the yin to your yang, or...well. You know what I mean-" Julian feels slightly hot in the face because she says that as if she knows the details he hasn't told her, "Or if you find yourself sharing a turbolift with someone you never expected, it's still going to be a hell of a lot of work to keep it together. My mom would know. My dad is from New Jersey."
Julian hears something she isn't saying, suddenly. "You've never been in love?"
Marcia pauses, then, "I guess I just haven't met 'the one' yet," and smiles. "Now don't change the subject," she accuses. "How long have you been after this girl, anyway, Julian? The one the got away."
Julian sighs. "Long time."
"Then Sweetie, you may have to face the fact that you won't have any choice but to let her go. Not that you aren't a catch," she surprises Julian by leaning in and taking his face in her warm hands, "I think you're absolutely adorable and brilliant and...mostly charming," Julian smirks, "And I'm sure she thinks so too, but maybe you're not 'the one' for her?"
"Apparently not," Julian says, maybe a little bitter.
"She has someone else."
"Yes."
"Then why waste your time? Persistence isn't everything."
Julian looks sullenly at the floor. "You just said love is a lot of work. I've been putting a lot of work into it." It sounds petulant and he has to smirk a little when she laughs.
"Mutual work, Honey. It takes two to tango as they also say."
They remain there a moment or two in silence and Julian gets lost in a winding train of thought traveling through dark hair and silken skin.
"Well. Are you going to stay here? Cuz I'm off to bed."
He shakes off his daydream. "No, just leave everything. I'll finish up when I leave."
Marcia washes her hands. "Alright. Don't stay up too late. And don't spend too much time thinking about it. You'll just wind up like a cat tied to a tree," she clucks.
Julian chuckles and wishes her a good night.
The infirmary turns into a ghost town this time of night. Doctor Girani is in her office, but other than her, Julian is alone.
"Computer. Close the door."
The door slides shut quietly and Julian tries to decide what to do with himself. He doesn't sleep much on a normal night. The past two haven't been normal and this one isn't shaping up too well either.
He presses a few buttons on the computer in front of him before he can second guess the action, and in a moment, Garak appears on the screen in front of him in shiny, plum, crisp-looking pajamas, hair freshly washed, glowing with vitality as he always does when he's warm and comfortable. Julian loves to see him like that.
Garak smiles softly and his eyes come alive. "Doctor. How are you this evening?"
Doctor, huh? "I'm fine. Yourself?"
"Never better. What can I do for you?"
Not going to make this easy are you. "Well. I...thought we might get together. Tonight perhaps."
Garak's smile turns a shade warmer still and his eyes hungry.
"Julian," he says just above a whisper. "I thought we were waiting a little while."
Julian lets the weariness of that wait into his expression and sighs.
"Oh now that's not fair," Elim says suddenly, looking aghast.
"What?"
"Julian you have more power to tempt me than any other being alive. Please don't look at me like that. I want to. I want....It's indescribable how much I want to. Which is why I want to wait a little. Cool off."
"But why four days, Elim? It's been two. I'm cool," he pleads unrepentant.
Elim laughs low and sweet. "And that's why you're calling me at midnight?"
Julian grumbles his frustration and puts the heel of his hand to his crotch out of view of Garak, though he thinks he can probably tell what that motion is anyway. "Nothing has to happen Garak. We don't have to get into anything. I just...I just want to see you." That might be slightly ingenuine, but he'd certainly settle for an evening on the couch if he can't have an evening in bed. Would even prefer it in a way. Innocent, uncomplicated. He suddenly wants nothing more in the world than to lay back against Elim's chest covered in those plum satin pajamas and thread their fingers together.
Garak leans forward on his elbows toward his computer and reaches up and touches the screen and the side of Julian's face. He can't remember the last time he'd been filled with such hope. Looking into those downy brown eyes, warm and liquid and wanting, he can't quash the need to believe that this could be real, that this could be happening to him of all people, that it might actually work.
He stares at him a moment more, sadly, happily, he isn't sure which, and then smiles at him again. "Goodnight, my love," he whispers to him, and can barely summon the will to close the connection.
Julian groans and settles back into his seat. With a bright ball of energy buzzing around inside of him, no will to sleep, he reopens the Comparative Xenobiology text he had been reading earlier.
Orgasm in the Cardassian male may occur while the penis is extended or not. In boys it is common for awakening sexual desires to cause an erection which inadvertently causes stimulation of the penis within the pseudo cavity, resulting in premature ejaculation while the penis is still sheathed. Sexual activity can last for minutes or hours, depending on the individual, but largely depending on the preference of the female. To prevent embarrassment and stress in boys, they are taught at a young age strict bodily control, and as sexually experienced adults, often develop the discipline to hold off or induce their own orgasm as they see fit. The Cardassian penis is unique in that the erectile tissue not only has the capacity to become engorged and thus increase the size of the penis when erect, but it also becomes more massive over time. Older Cardassian males generally have larger penises than younger ones. It is believed that this is because Cardassian females may bear children well into their later years, making it prudent for the Cardassian male to evolve ways of retaining their mates interest even as seniors.
Julian has had quite enough. He turns out the lights in his office and leaves the infirmary carrying a racquetball suit folded over his arm should he actually encounter anyone on his walk back to his quarters. Once home he hits the shower and spends the night with his hand.
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