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“It’s terribly romantic, don’t you think? I can’t imagine leaving Cardassia for anyone.”
“They say Terrans aren’t so attached to their homes.”
Garak paused. There number of humans the librarians could be discussing was limited, and if they were talking about Julian, he wanted to hear what they had to say. He remained a keen gatherer of information despite his career change. True, his methods these days were much different than they had been when he was a younger man, but standing outside a doorway to eavesdrop could hardly be considered coercive.
“Perhaps.” The man sounded skeptical, and with good reason. Garak was not entirely sure the conventional wisdom was accurate in this case. He had thought so, once, but the more he interacted with humans, the more he came to believe that they simply had a different definition of home than Cardassians did. It was as much an emotional state as a place – at least to some humans, most importantly Julian. Garak did not concern himself with the perspectives of other humans on the subject.
“I wonder if it looks romantic to Terrans to leave your home for someone,” mused the woman.
Julian insisted that he hadn’t come to Cardassia only for Garak, and Garak was inclined to believe him, because Julian was absolutely incapable of ignoring those in medical need and Cardassia had altogether too many such people.
But Julian had not merely come to Cardassia. He had stayed, and that was for Garak. He had declared his intent to stay as long as Garak would have him, and since Garak could not conceive of ever desiring Julian to leave, they had agreed this would be permanent. Aside from the humiliating fact that it had taken Lwaxana Troi’s interference to have those conversations, Garak could not have asked for anything more from his personal life.
He understood the sacrifice Julian had made. True, Julian wasn’t concerned by it, but the point remained.
“And to leave a promising career in the Federation’s military, too.”
While Julian would doubtlessly object to Starfleet being described in purely military terms, that, too, weighed on Garak. While the Federation Relief Corp was pleased to extend Julian’s tenure, Starfleet had not been so inclined, and Julian had therefore submitted his resignation. He didn’t seem bothered by it. If anything, that lack of concern weighed on Garak even more than if Julian showed even a bit of regret.
“I don’t see how anyone could deny the romance of Dr. Bashir’s choice.”
It was an extraordinary turn for Garak’s life that the population was now gossiping about his grand romance. While he did not enjoy being the subject of gossip, he found it pleasing, in an unfamiliar and admittedly disconcerting way, that seemingly everyone in Cardassia City (and likely well beyond) knew that he had somehow managed to earn the love and devotion of Julian Bashir.
He also appreciated that Ontra Belor had now ceased her shameless flirtation with, or more accurately at, Julian. Gossip did have its uses.
On the other side of the doorway, the woman continued her sociological consideration. “It makes one wonder what humans consider romantic.”
Overt displays of sentiment, generally. Also, and for reasons entirely beyond Garak’s comprehension, dying flowers.
“It’s a good question. What does it take to keep a human lover happy?”
Garak really had to broach the subject of upgrading Julian’s status from lover to spouse. The distinction mattered a great deal on Cardassia, far more than he was led to believe it did on Earth.
“Do humans even enjoy a good debate?”
Julian certainly did, so Garak had no concerns there. Two nights previously he had been incandescent with delight when Garak was forced to concede that Glinn Traket’s Orchard could possibly contain well-hidden third meanings to those inclined to such a reading, namely, dissidents.
“Who knows? There could be any number of strange human customs Councilor Garak is obliged to follow.”
There were not, excepting a few differences during intimate encounters necessitated by human physiology.
“Garak!”
He turned to see Natima Lang walking his way. She was an important ally, so he took care not to show any hint of annoyance at her timing. It ought to have been obvious that he was gathering information, of course, but Lang’s observational prowess left much to be desired. Their political alliance was based in large part upon pairing Garak’s powers of observation and talent for collecting information with her formidable public speeches and unquestionable dissident credentials.
So he put the librarians’ conversation out of his mind until he was on his way home in the evening. Lwaxana Troi had been very clear that Garak would need to use forthright words more than his habit in order to satisfy Julian’s human modes of communication, and although this went against a lifetime of conditioning, Garak was making an effort. (Julian, for his part, had found Troi’s reference materials on Cardassian body language extremely enlightening.) He hadn’t taken up comparing Julian’s eyes to the stars or any such nonsensical human similes. He did make a point to thank Julian for various acts of kindness and service, because while Cardassians deemed such expressions of gratitude unnecessary, humans seemed quite attached to them. When he noticed that Julian smiled at being called ‘my dear,’ Garak made sure to do so regularly.
Were those sufficient concessions? Was he missing something vital to Julian’s continued fulfillment? What did it take to keep a human lover (and future spouse) happy?
After two days of consideration, he decided he needed to speak with a human on the subject. Fortunately the computer in his office had offworld connection capabilities. Only in the morning, but this recent development was to be celebrated all the same. Equally fortunately, he knew the O’Brien family’s comm code from Julian’s use.
Chief O’Brien looked at him with alarm. “Garak? Is Julian okay?”
“There’s no cause for concern. As far as I know, he is currently making his rounds at the orphanage.” Having decided that the residents were receiving insufficient preventative care, Julian set out to fix this with such conviction that it was now part of the hospital’s regular routine.
“Okay, good,” said O’Brien.
Garak had reluctantly decided he would need to be direct. O’Brien responded best when everything was stated plainly, and the fact that it was awkward for Garak unfortunately did not change this fact.
If it ensured Julian’s happiness, Garak would subject himself to much worse than a moderately embarrassing conversation with Miles O’Brien.
“You are a married man, Chief. What would you consider essential to contentment in a lifelong romantic relationship, for a human?”
O’Brien made a peculiar face. “First of all, there’s no universal definition for the entire human race.”
“Surely there must be common factors.” Or failing that, humans were fond of writing anything and everything about themselves for other races’ convenience; there likely existed a guide to interspecies romance.
“More importantly, why are you asking me instead of Julian?”
Yes, at first consideration that would seem to be the sensible course of action, and one with the additional benefit of sparing Garak’s pride. He had not dismissed it without cause. “Julian has a tendency to overlook facts which conflict with his optimistic view of events.”
O’Brien squinted. “What’s that got to do with lifelong romantic relationships?”
Garak would not have put himself through this excruciating conversation for anyone save Julian. Perhaps he should have asked if Professor O’Brien was available. She was an intuitive woman, and with her Garak might not have needed to explicitly state every fear in his head. The chief, however, knew Julian best, so Garak persevered. “He is unconcerned with what he must give up in order to be with me.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Julian.”
“I find it troubling that he is not addressing the subject with any serious intent.”
“You think he’s lying to you?”
“No.” I fear he is lying to himself. “I think he is once again overlooking practical matters because they are inconvenient when he is approaching matters with his usual optimism.”
“I don’t know, Garak. Julian’s more aware of practicalities these days. The war did a number on him.”
“Yes, and I confess that I have been glad to see his positive outlook returning.” Of course it was more realistic now. That had been inevitable, really. Still, the fact that Julian had seen war and still chose to embrace hope – Garak hadn’t known how much he needed that until he experienced it, and he now tried to impart something of it to the population at large, in whatever meagre ways he was able. “However, the facts remain.”
“Right,” said O’Brien. “So, you don’t think Julian’s taking your concerns about what he’s giving up to stay with you seriously, and you decided to call me. The two of you need to work on your communication, and you can tell Julian I said so.”
“He is aware.” Garak, who had not one shred of experience at open and honest communication with a partner, was finding the process more difficult than anticipated. It didn’t help that everything required of him was precisely what Tain and harsh experience had taught him was the worst course of action in any given situation.
He thought the fact that he’d requested O’Brien’s help ought to demonstrate his commitment to improving, but perhaps it was not so apparent to the chief.
“Good. Now how do you think I can help?”
“I wanted to speak to a human who would not summarily dismiss my concerns.”
“Right. You should still talk to Julian.”
“I will. Once I have more information.”
O’Brien sighed. “Look, Garak, if Julian wanted some kind of stereotypical human relationship, he wouldn’t be dating you. And to be honest, I always got the impression he’d soon be bored in his relationships. Maybe that’s one reason the two of you work.”
“That does not rule out desiring some aspects of a human relationship.”
“I guess not. But he’s the one who can tell you which aspects they are.”
O’Brien was not proving as helpful as Garak had hoped. “I don’t suppose you know of any guides to human romance?”
“No. Can’t say I’ve looked for any, though.”
Of course he hadn’t.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think Julian will miss as much as you’re afraid he does.”
That was at least mildly helpful. “I hope you’re right, Chief.”
“If you really want to try something human, Valentine’s Day is a week from Monday.” Belatedly realizing that was not the most useful frame of reference to someone operating on a different calendar, O’Brien added, “Ten days from now.”
Garak thought about the human holidays he’d learned of during his time on the station. He believed this was the one which inspired Julian to espouse the importance of celebrating love. “Is that the one with the insufficiently clothed child archer?”
“Insufficiently cl – oh, you mean Cupid? Yeah, although you don’t see that much now.”
Garak remained baffled as to why one ever saw it at all, but that wasn’t the salient point. He would save that conversation to have with Julian, who would no doubt have a passionate defense. It could be a delightful evening of entertainment. “And what does one do on Valentine’s Day?”
“Whatever you want.”
“Traditionally.”
“Flowers, jewelry, romantic dinners, that sort of thing.”
The latter phrase was particularly unelucidating. How the chief managed to forget he was speaking to a Cardassian who had called specifically to ask for information about human romantic customs, Garak couldn’t imagine.
“I can’t give Julian cut flowers. It would cause a political scandal.”
“Why?”
“On Cardassia, cut flowers are used only for funerals or threats.”
“I may regret asking this, but why are flowers threatening?”
“Because they were recently part of a living plant and are now actively dying. It sends a clear message.” At least, it was clear to Cardassians. Humans seemed to have a very different interpretation.
“Well, I don’t think Julian cares about flowers, really. Or jewelry. So maybe try the romantic dinner. You know, low lighting, soft music, nice and private.”
“That can be arranged. Thank you, Chief. You’ve been most helpful.” Strictly speaking, he’d been moderately helpful at best. Garak simply wanted to be polite.
“You’re welcome. And talk to Julian.”
Garak promised to do so before disconnecting. Then he set about trying to arrange an appropriately romantic dinner. Twenty minutes after the conversation ended, he received a message from O’Brien.
Here’s a professional explanation.
Professional what, Garak wondered. He opened the attachment and found an article from the Interspecies Journal of Sociology entitled, “Valentine’s Day: The Evolution of the Terran Celebration of Love from an External Perspective,” written by one Professor Phreezna of the Denobulan Center for Sociological Studies.
From its hazy origins as a religious holiday through the commercialization era of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries, Valentine’s Day has grown to the modern holiday celebrating loving connections of all varieties…
Perhaps there was something to be said for an outsider’s take on the holiday. Such a person was less likely to use vague and unhelpful phrases such as ‘that sort of thing,’ as though it was all so obvious that no further explanation was required.
As he started to read, it occurred to Garak that he shouldn’t dismiss the idea of giving Julian cut flowers so quickly. If it ever served his purpose to create a small scandal – if, for example, a distraction was required – he might do just that. It was worth keeping the idea in reserve, at any rate.
In the meantime, he had reading to do.
Armed with the right information, Garak felt confident he could manage a recognizable recreation of a Valentine’s Day dinner. Low lighting required no effort at all, as Cardassian lighting was always low by human standards, and energy rationing made it dimmer still. Soft music was a bit more difficult, as Cardassians did not favor it. Fortunately for Garak’s purposes, the Lakat Musical Repository survived unscathed and had an extensive collection of offworld songs, if one with very little Terran music. Garak deemed a playlist of (exceptionally dull) Vulcan lute music suitable.
Nothing in either Garak’s experience on the station or Professor Phreezna’s analysis suggested that nutrition bars were considered a romantic meal. As those were presently the staple of the Cardassian diet, he had no choice but to ask another of Julian’s friends for assistance.
“Hello, Colonel,” he said.
“Is Julian alright?”
Why did everyone assume he was calling to inform them that some catastrophe had befallen Julian? Did they think so little of Garak’s ability to protect him? Had Julian not mentioned that Garak had personally seen to it that water rations for Federation aid workers were calculated by species’ requirements just as soon as Julian admitted the problem existed? (Julian now enjoyed 24% more water than the standard ration.)
“He is quite well. I’m hoping you might assist in the preparation of a pleasant surprise for him.”
“Okay,” said Kira, visibly relaxing. “What do you need?”
“The medical transport ship Epione is scheduled to arrive on Cardassia in six days, departing from Deep Space Nine. Would you be willing to include a stasis box with a meal of Terran food, and if it’s not too much trouble, a bottle of wine?”
“I can do that,” she said. “Planning a surprise dinner for Julian?”
“Yes.”
Kira plainly approved. “An Earth wine, or springwine?”
Garak honestly did not know which Julian would prefer, as Julian had a tendency to drink whatever the people around him were drinking, so he settled on answering, “Whichever is easier, Colonel.”
As much as Garak did not enjoy needing to ask for help, he got the impression that Kira thought well of his project and, instead of taking his request as proof that he could not see to Julian’s happiness on his own, she was pleased to contribute. This would require further consideration – later, once the rest of his plans were in place.
On Valentine’s Day, Garak left work early (which was to say, at the scheduled end of his workday) to arrange their home before Julian returned.
The modest townhouse Garak had purchased as a young man had taken relatively minor damage in the Dominion assault. He’d been surprised to find his assets hadn’t been seized by the state; evidently his exile had been considerably less official than Tain wanted him to believe. Regardless, he had a place to live and counted himself fortunate for it.
Candles were uncommon on Cardassia, as it was generally deemed senseless to use something for light which was a fire hazard when much safer alternatives were available. Nevertheless, they were considered romantic to humans, apparently, so Garak had procured some from one of the artistic communities which still valued candlelight.
“I’m home,” Julian called out. He always went straight into the refresher when he got home from the hospital, which was convenient because it was in the front of the house and the kitchen was in the back. Garak busied himself setting the table and lighting the candles.
When Julian wandered into the kitchen, his eyes widened and he smiled in wonder. “Oh, this is lovely. Is that shrimp scampi?”
“Yes.”
“You did all this for me?”
Garak sternly reminded himself that he had no reason to be uncomfortable. Julian was clearly happy, which was all that mattered. “I’m told it’s traditional on Valentine’s Day.”
“Elim, you romantic.” Julian followed this with a long kiss. “Thank you. I didn’t need it, but it’s perfect.”
“Do make an effort to savor the meal, my dear.”
“After all the ration bars? Absolutely.”
Julian did indeed manage to, if not entirely savor the meal, at least taste it. Garak enjoyed the break from ration bars almost as much as he enjoyed watching Julian’s pleasure.
Really, the evening couldn’t have gone any better. They enjoyed the food and a lively debate about the merits of Cupid, and eventually Julian noted that Valentine’s Day sex was also traditional, at which point Garak remarked that he’d always had a great appreciation for tradition.
All in all, it was a great success. He owed the chief a debt of gratitude.
“Miles asked if you and I have talked yet,” said Julian in a deceptively even tone after finishing the chief’s latest letter. “Would you happen to know to what he is referring?”
This was the problem with asking people for help. They then felt entitled to interfere in your business.
“Chief O’Brien has strong opinions regarding the importance of communication in a relationship.”
“I see. And how exactly did he have occasion to share them with you?”
At least Colonel Kira was not prone to meddling. She had simply included a few extra gifts in her shipment, including the Tarkalean tea Julian was presently drinking. Garak gained a new level of appreciation for her.
“If you must know, I contacted him to inquire about human romantic traditions.”
“Such as Valentine’s Day?”
“He did mention the date was near.”
“Alright, you wanted to surprise me, I understand that much. Why is Miles so insistent that we need to talk?”
“Because he’s never learned to refrain from giving unsolicited advice, apparently.” It was a common human failing.
“Elim.” Julian turned a very pointed glare his way. “What does Miles think we need to talk about?”
Inwardly cursing both the human cultural believe that they had the right to interject themselves into other peoples’ private business and one specific offender in particular, Garak decided he might as well get the conversation over with. Julian would give him no peace now until he relented. “Your consistent refusal to give my concerns about what you are sacrificing due consideration.”
“My… I haven’t… you went to Miles for relationship advice?” This was clearly one of those instances where Julian’s brain moved so fast his mouth couldn’t keep up and he forgot to keep to a single sentence. Garak usually found that endearing. He was too annoyed and, admittedly, terrified of the conversation O’Brien had forced, to be endeared at the moment.
“Well, the human I’m in a relationship with wouldn’t have a serious conversation on the subject. I had to resort to a lesser option.”
“I haven’t refused any such conversation. We talked about this, Elim.”
“Have we? As I remember it, I broached the subject and you dismissed my concerns out of hand.”
“I didn’t.”
“I doubt this is the exact conversation Chief O’Brien recommended.”
Julian deflated at that. “No. Alright. Let’s try this again. What exactly are you worried about?”
Garak detested being asked to name his fears for many reasons, not least of which was that it was asking how he might best be hurt or exploited. He took a deep breath and reminded himself that Julian was not inquiring to inflict emotional pain. “That you have not given sufficient thought to the consequences of our relationship.”
Julian shook his head. “No, I mean what are you afraid will happen if I don’t?”
The words stuck in Garak’s throat. “Surely you can extrapolate.”
“Elim…”
“Julian. I am trying.” And maybe that was another fear: that Garak could never be enough, that Tain had damaged him too badly to manage a romance.
Thankfully, Julian was indeed able to extrapolate. “Are you afraid I’ll regret this? Oh, love, that’s not going to happen.”
“How can you be so certain? You won’t give the idea more than three seconds’ thought.”
“You’re not giving me enough credit,” said Julian reproachfully.
“You do have a history of, what is the human phrase? Failing to look before you leap?”
“I do,” admitted Julian. “But not this time. I thought about it before we even got together.”
This was news to Garak. “Oh?”
“You know about Section 31.” Yes. Julian had been notably withdrawn when he arrived on Cardassia, and it took some weeks and a bottle of kanar he didn’t at all appreciate before he told Garak about his interactions with the agency. “That changed things for me.”
“Could you be more specific?”
“For one thing, I’m not eager to go back to Starfleet where they have further opportunities to manipulate me. For another, well, you were right about my idealism, when we first met.”
Garak regretted every time he’d ever hoped Julian would come to see the world as it was.
“I can’t go back to who I was before the war. I don’t much like the person I turned into during the war. But here? I like who I’m becoming.”
“You would not have to stay in Starfleet to live among your own people in the Federation.”
“No. I do miss Miles,” he said, which Garak already knew. “I’d miss him anyway, though. He’s staying on Earth and Earth is too perfect for me, as odd as that may sound. As for Starfleet… maybe I could settle back in and be happy and Section 31 would never bother me again. Maybe it would be a disaster. I don’t know, and I don’t feel a need to find out. I understand how you might think I’m giving up more than I feel I am, and I’m not ignoring what I truly do feel I’m giving up.”
“Such as?” prompted Garak, beginning to think the conversation might not be a catastrophe after all.
“Holodecks, for the foreseeable future. Most of my favorite foods. And you know I didn’t enjoy the summer heat.”
“We need to increase your water ration in the summer months.”
“Unrationed water, there’s another one for the list. My point is, I’ve thought about it and I’ve decided that I am happier without those things so long as I have you. I don’t think I would’ve been able to stay on the old Cardassia, even for you. This new Cardassia, working towards a better future – here is a place I can make my home.”
Garak was so relieved, and so thrilled to hear Julian refer to making Cardassia his home, that he found himself at a rare loss for words.
“I didn’t mean to dismiss your concerns, and I’m sorry I didn’t explain myself better the first time around,” Julian continued. “Is there anything else we need to clear up?”
“There is the matter of any human customs or romantic practices you deem important.”
“I was never very good at the typical human romance,” Julian confessed. “I think I was trying to do what was expected of me, to fit in.”
“To not call attention to your differences,” surmised Garak.
“Partly that, and partly thinking I just needed to get it right and everything would fall into place. I’m not feeling unfulfilled, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“It occurred to me that our relationship has been conducted largely based on Cardassian customs.”
“If I objected to that, I wouldn’t have started a relationship with a Cardassian on Cardassia. Besides, you’ve been making an effort to come out and say things you otherwise wouldn’t. And the kissing, we can’t forget that.”
“You are turning me into a sexual deviant in that regard.”
“See? We aren’t doing this solely the Cardassian way.”
“I suppose not.”
“If I left, it wouldn’t be the same. The time on DS9 was special, although I could’ve done without the war. But that’s over and I can’t get it back. The future is going to be different, and I have decided to build mine here with you, which is a much better option that trying to recapture the past.”
When he put it that way, it sounded positively sensible. “I am glad,” said Garak, the words wholly inadequate. “I will endeavor to give you no cause to regret your decision.”
“I’m sure I won’t,” replied Julian, and Garak was able to find his optimism charming again. “I do think, though, that we should try to have our next relationship conversation without any third parties forcing it.”
“Yes. I fright to think what kind of intervention Lieutenant Dax might stage. Or, worse, Colonel Kira.”
Julian laughed. “I don’t think Kira is the intervention type.”
“That’s why it would be worse.”
As for O’Brien, since his meddling had yielded a good result, Garak was inclined to forgive the overreach. The chief did have years of experience in a human marriage and had been generous enough to share his insights, to very good results.
Julian took Garak’s head in his hands for a kiss, which turned into a series of kisses. This particular human custom, while strange and unnatural to Garak at first, was no hardship at all. Garak might not have found it erotic, but he didn’t need to so long as it meant that Julian was happy and his.
He vowed that he would manage to propose marriage without anyone else’s involvement, and sooner rather than later.