Title:   A White Tunic
Author:  Kathryn Ramage
Series:  DS9
Codes:   S/B, G/B  
Rating:  PG13  
Summary: The second sequel to "A Small Corner of Happiness."  
In response to Bashir's pending marriage to Sisko, Garak gives 
the doctor a wedding present.

Paramount owns Star Trek, DS9, and the characters.  This story 
was written purely for entertainment purposes.

Special Thanks: To Heather and Karmen, for their beta-reading.

Copyright June 2001

~|1|~

"Garak, it's beautiful!"  Julian pulled the garment out of 
the box and held it up.  The tunic was of plush white velvet.  
An elaborate working of gold thread, embroidered to resemble 
some sort of vine, ran down the front, with dozens of small, 
red gemstones set like berries.  More gold embroidery set with 
smaller gems entwined around the high collar, covered the padded 
shoulders, and ran down the sleeves to encircle the cuffs.  
"You really shouldn't have."

"Shouldn't I?  But I wanted so much to give you something for
your upcoming marriage ceremony.  It's a Kardasi wedding tunic," 
Garak explained.  "Of course, I had to make some alterations to 
the collar, and the traditional color is crimson.  I understand 
that, in your culture, white is the usual."

"For a bridal dress."  Julian held the tunic to his chest, to 
'try it on'.  "It's a symbol..."  He smiled.  "Oh, why not? I'm 
entitled.  It's my first wedding--the best etiquette guides have 
been saying for centuries that it's vulgar to speculate on white 
being symbolic for the first experience of anything else."

"Then you will wear it?"

"Yes, I will."  After carefully folding his gift and replacing 
it in its box, Julian glanced up at the tailor.  "Garak, thank 
you.  I'm glad you're taking this so well." 

"You've made your choice, Doctor.  What else can I do but abide
by it?  Think of this merely as a token of my good wishes."

~|*|~

For months, he had courted the young doctor, engaging Bashir in 
numerous literary lunches, piquing his interest with spy games 
and multi-faceted stories, and slowly gaining his trust.  It 
seemed as if these efforts would be rewarded; they had begun 
to develop a warm friendship, with every prospect for greater 
intimacy.  And then that prospect had disappeared so abruptly 
that it caught Garak totally unprepared.

While he had laid his plans for seduction, he'd always kept an 
eye out for rivals: Dax, the occasional dabo girl or impression-
able ensign and, most recently, O'Brien.  But Sisko?  Garak had 
allowed for the possibility that Sisko might intervene in the 
relationship for security reasons, but he hadn't anticipated 
the commander stealing Julian away from him.  How could he have
foreseen it?  He'd never observed anything more between them 
than what was usual for a junior officer and his superior--some 
respectful admiration on one side, and a paternal interest on 
the other. 

All that had changed in a few, short days, when DS9's senior staff 
was summoned to Earth to report on the potential threat posed by 
the Dominion.  A routine mission; Bashir had mentioned it over 
lunch the day before his departure, and Garak had seen him off 
with only a casual farewell.  He had missed the doctor during the 
week that followed and looked forward to his return, but he was 
not particularly troubled by Bashir's brief absence.

The morning after the Defiant returned to DS9, he took breakfast 
at the Replimat, choosing a seat where he could watch the lift 
near the Infirmary and wait for Bashir to show up.

He had his first inkling that something was wrong when Lt. Dax 
and Chief O'Brien emerged from the lift.  O'Brien immediately
took the lieutenant by the arm and they drew their heads together 
for a whispered conference.  From the frequent glances in his 
direction, Garak could only infer that they were discussing him
--or something that concerned him?

Dax went on her way, and O'Brien approached his table.  

"Look, Garak," he announced bluntly, "I don't like you, and you 
know why, but I think it's only fair to warn you.  You're not 
going to like what's happened."

"What's happened?"  Garak felt a cold chill run through him
as he repeated the words.  "Has there been an accident?  Dr. 
Bashir-?"

"No, nothing like that," O'Brien assured him quickly.  "He's
not hurt.  But there was a transporter malfunction when they 
beamed down to San Francisco-"

"Transporter-" Garak rose to his feet, certain in spite of 
the Chief's reassurance that there had been some disaster.  To 
his relief, Bashir stepped off the turbolift a moment later, 
apparently unharmed, accompanied by Commander Sisko.

They crossed the Promenade, walking side by side, not touching 
nor even looking at each other--but Garak could see that there 
was something different about them.  Sisko spoke, his voice too 
low to be overheard, and when Bashir turned to smile at him, 
Garak felt a sharp, sickening stab within his chest.  Even from 
several meters' distance, he couldn't mistake the look in the 
doctor's eyes.  

He understood what O'Brien had been so clumsily attempting to 
tell him.

The shock must have shown in his face in that unguarded moment, 
for O'Brien said, "They got lost in time.  They were on their 
own for months before we found them," as if that explained it.  
Then, mercifully, instead of offering insincere condolences, he 
went away, leaving Garak to recover from the unexpected blow.

Later, when he learned more details about the incident, Garak 
understood the time paradox involved: from their point of view, 
Sisko and Bashir had lived a significant part of their lives in 
another era.  He saw signs of those extra years: Bashir looked 
older, and he had lost that boyish exuberance.  Garak also under-
stood how the harsh circumstances of life in that more primitive 
time had created a powerful emotional bond between the two men.  
>From Bashir's own account of the matter, Garak gathered that 
they had set up house together, presenting themselves to 21st-
century Earth as "domestic partners"--peculiar euphemism!--and, 
eventually, the fiction had become a reality. 

He understood how it had happened--but, from _his_ perspective, 
Julian had been taken from him without warning by a completely 
unlooked-for rival.  

It was not the worst disappointment of his life.  It wasn't even 
the first time that one he desired had been claimed by a higher-
ranked member of the prevailing hierarchy (Garak recognized that, 
in spite of his unorthodoxies, he was Cardassian enough to be 
sensitive to the social order).  But the loss left him dazed.  
He hadn't truly realized how much Bashir meant to him until he 
saw Julian with someone else.

The most humiliating aspect of it all was that everyone seemed 
to be aware of his feelings for the doctor.  Worse than Bashir's
conciliatory efforts to maintain their friendship or Sisko's wary 
protectiveness were the understated expressions of sympathy he 
received from Dax, Odo, even Major Kira.  It was galling to per-
ceive how obvious he must have been and, like O'Brien's "only 
fair" warning, these condolences stung; apparently, now that 
Bashir was safely out of his grasp, the doctor's friends felt 
they could afford to be kind.  

While he did not participate in the gossip around the station, 
he overheard enough of it to know that he was not the only one 
perplexed by the astonishing relationship.  The general con-
sensus was that it wouldn't last.  The most popular theory, put 
forward by Lt. Dax, was that the two had shared an experience 
that no one else could know.  It had brought them together in
that other time, and they stayed together now while they read-
justed to their 24th-century lives.  Once they were comfortable 
again, the love affair would be abandoned.  Quark took bets on 
how long it would take for things to return to normal.

Garak had done what he could to further this dissolution.  Over 
their continued lunches, he suggested to Bashir that he and 
Sisko had very little in common, made feints at Sisko's motives 
in maintaining the affair, and even implied that it was Sisko's 
power as station commander and premier Federation officer in 
the sector that had attracted Bashir.  He stopped only when 
the doctor made it clear he would leave rather than listen to 
aspersions cast against his lover.

The relationship did not end.  Sisko and Bashir went on seeing 
each other, discreetly at first, then more openly.  When Sisko 
resumed his old hobby of attending holosuite baseball games, 
Bashir accompanied him.  They had dinner in restaurants on the 
Promenade as often as in Sisko's quarters.  As small, public 
displays of affection became commonplace, the astonishment at 
the odd pairing faded.  People got used to it.  Even the com-
mander's son, who had initially had the most difficulty, began 
to accept the doctor as part of his family.   

When the two announced that they were going marry, Garak's last 
hopes that he had only to wait out the unusual situation were 
destroyed.  

What else he could do?  He made a wedding tunic.

~|!|~

"_Garak_ gave that to you?"

"As a present.  He wants me to wear it for the wedding."

Sisko plucked the tunic up gingerly by its gem-encrusted shoulders 
and held it out at arms' length to examine it.  "You don't mind if 
I have this checked out?"

"Checked-?  Oh."  Bashir understood.  "I suppose that would be a
reasonable precaution.  It never occurred to me."

"You know how he feels about you."

"I know." 

"He's been quiet about our relationship so far, but it was only 
a matter of time before he had to try something like this."  

Julian sighed and surrendered his gift.  "You won't take it apart, 
will you?"

"I think it can be scanned without splitting one seam.  I'll only 
have it cut open if I have reason to suspect there's something 
concealed in the lining."  _What_ he suspected, he didn't say.  
When your disappointed rival was a former Obsidian Order agent and 
professional assassin, it was better to anticipate a wide range of 
possibilities.

~|2|~

"According to the spectrometric analysis, every one of the gem-
stones is a perfect synthetic ruby," Dax reported her findings 
at the staff meeting the next day.  "No electronic devices.  No 
explosives.  No metals detected except for minute traces of gold 
in the embroidery.  Both you and Julian have handled the tunic--
That seems to indicate that there's nothing in it that's activated 
by your touch."

"So we can rule out the tunic blowing up or bursting into flames," 
said Sisko.

"It might not be Garak's intention to kill you or Julian," she
replied.  "He might be planning some less vicious revenge.  The 
tunic could fall to pieces during the ceremony, or cause some 
minor physical discomfort like itching, or nausea, or it might 
make Julian turn blue."

"Garak might've used some kind of pheromonic trigger that's
timed to lie dormant `til the wedding," O'Brien added. 

"You checked for these possibilities?"

"For everything the Chief or I could think of, Benjamin," Dax
answered.  "There are no chemical reactants in the fabric.  Of 
course, given Garak's background, he may be familiar with sub-
stances that wouldn't be easily detected."  

"I could question Garak," Odo suggested.

"No," Bashir said quickly, and drew all eyes to him.

"It would be the easiest way to find out if Garak has sabotaged 
his present to you," Sisko told him.  "Even if he lies about it, 
his answers might give us some indication of what he has planned."

"I'd rather not confront him openly unless we have some proof.  
If there's nothing- ah- wrong with my tunic, and Garak knew I was 
suspicious, it'd hurt his feelings." 

"Knowing Garak, I'd think he'd be pleased," said O'Brien.  "He'd 
say that you were learning how to be as twisty and devious as a
Cardassian."

"That's what he'd _say_," Julian agreed, "but I know how he'd 
really feel."  

Sisko stared at Bashir as if he wanted to ask a question but, 
for the moment, he left it unspoken.  Instead, he told Odo, "Con-
stable, let's hold off on talking to Garak awhile, but keep an 
eye on him.  Dax, Chief, I want you to continue examining that 
tunic--Be absolutely certain it's safe." 

"If you want to be safe, my advice is not to wear it," Dax said,  
with an apologetic glance at Bashir.  "It's a shame--it's a lovely 
piece of work.  If I ever get married in this host's life, I'd like 
Garak to design my dress, without any hidden surprises."

~|*|~

As they left the wardroom after the meeting, Sisko took Bashir 
by the arm.  "Julian, can we talk privately?"

"Yes, of course." The others were also emerging into the corridor 
behind them but, at a gesture from the commander, tactfully hung 
back.  Dax in particular looked anxious as the two stepped into 
the lift alone.  

Julian chuckled as the doors slid shut.  "Remember how they re-
acted when we first told them we were lovers?  Chief O'Brien was 
so flustered, and Dax tried to be understanding about how it had
all happened--They both thought we were out of our minds.  Now, 
I think they'd be happy if they could just get us through the 
wedding ceremony without a major disaster, and see us safely off 
to Risa."  He leaned lightly on Benjamin's shoulder.  "Only a 
few more days, and then we can get away..." 

"But before that, there are some problem we have to address."

The young man grew somber.  "Garak, you mean."

"This tunic may just be the beginning.  Even if we get safely 
through the wedding and away to our honeymoon, we'll still have
to deal with him when we come back."  Ben took a breath, and 
said, "If Garak's going to be a constant nuisance, I'll have to 
tell him to leave the station."  

"Surely that's not necessary?"

"It may be the most prudent course.  Dax is right: Garak probably 
isn't thinking of murder.  He knows he wouldn't get away with it.  
But I can't be completely certain of that, and I won't put up with 
threats from him.  We've always had a potential security risk by 
allowing him to stay on DS9--I can't worry about your personal 
safety, or mine, every minute because our resident Cardassian is 
jealous."

"I don't want you to throw Garak off the station," Julian pro-
tested.  "It doesn't have to come to that.  Ben, please, before
you do anything drastic, will you let me try to deal with Garak 
in my own way?  I know him better than anyone else.  Maybe I can 
talk to him.  Don't you see--it's _me_ that all of this is aimed 
at?"   

Ben was regarding him questioningly again.  "Julian," he asked 
tentatively, "you once let me think that there had been some-
thing between you and Garak.  Was there?"

"I never went to bed with him--you know that."

"That's not what I'm asking.  There were stories about the two 
of you." 

Julian sighed.  "He was never what you would call my lover, 
exactly, but the- ah- rumors weren't completely unfounded. I 
won't lie to you about it, Ben.  I _was_ attracted to him.  All 
that danger and mystery--it's very exciting.  And I've always 
had a thing for older men."  He gave Ben a small smile.  "It 
was over long ago, for _me_, at least, if not for him."  Since 
they had a few seconds of privacy before they reached the Pro-
menade, he took the opportunity for a quick kiss.  

"You'll let me talk to Garak by myself?" he asked as the lift 
came to a stop and they drew apart.   

"I don't see how I can stop you."  There was a flicker of doubt
in Sisko's eyes.  "Just be careful."    

"I'll be all right.  No matter what Garak's planning, I'm sure 
I'm in no immediate danger."

"No, but you said it yourself, Julian--it's you he's after."

~|3|~

When Garak answered the door to his quarters and found Julian 
standing there, he burst into a broad smile.  "Why, Dr. Bashir, 
this _is_ a surprise!"

"Is it?" Bashir responded wryly.  "You honestly weren't expecting 
me?"

"I always hope, but I never dared to anticipate.  Do come in, 
please."  He gestured for the doctor to sit down.  "What brings 
you here?"

"Well, I went to your shop first, but you'd closed up early."

"A professional consultation?" Garak asked.  "You wanted help 
with some last-minute arrangement for your wedding?  Or perhaps 
trousers to go with the tunic I made for you?"

"Not quite.  Actually, it's about the tunic," Bashir explained.  
"Garak, is there- ah- something wrong with it?"

"Wrong?" Garak echoed, still playing.  "I assure you, my dear 
Doctor, I gave that tunic the most careful attention I've ever 
bestowed on a garment.  Some of my best work has gone into it--
I wanted it to be worthy of the one who would wear it.  Aren't 
you pleased with it?"

"It's gorgeous, but I can't help wondering if there's a reason why 
I shouldn't wear it."  Bashir met his eyes and solemnly repeated 
the question, "Garak, is there something wrong with that tunic?"

"Under other circumstances, I would be gratified to see that 
you've learned to be suspicious of unexpected acts of generosity-" 
as he said this, Bashir gave him a sudden smile, "but not now--
not if suspicion leads you to refuse a gift I _want_ you to have.  
Have you been told not to wear it?" 

"No, but everyone seems to be worried about- ah- what might happen 
if I do.  They think you want to ruin the wedding--embarrass us in 
some way, cause an illness, or even," the doctor hesitated, "try 
to kill us."

"The last must be Commander Sisko's theory.  How sweet of him to 
be so concerned for your safety--or is he worried for himself?"  
The corner of Bashir's mouth turned down; Garak knew he had gone 
too far.  He asked, "Do you really think I would do such a thing, 
Doctor?"

"I don't know," Bashir admitted. "I don't want to.  I knew you'd 
be upset about my marriage, but I never- well-  You always throw 
out hints about how dangerous you are, but I can't believe you'd 
harm me or Commander Sisko.  Maybe I'm being naive--Would you kill 
him to get me?"

"Would I 'get you' if I did?" Garak asked back.

"No," Bashir replied bluntly.

"Then you have nothing to be afraid of."

The doctor regarded him carefully for a minute before he asked, 
"The tunic is all right, isn't it?" 

"Of course it is."

That wry smile returned.  "But you knew everyone would be sus-
picious.  You wanted there to be a fuss--you'd enjoy that."

Garak didn't deny it.

"And you knew I'd come here to ask you about it," Bashir went 
one step further.  "Isn't that right?"

"I hoped," the tailor said again, somewhat surprised that Bashir 
had seen through the ruse.  "I had to draw you here somehow, for 
a private conversation."  He took a more direct tack.  "Are you 
determined to do this?"

"Do what?  Marry?  Yes, I am."  

"He isn't a suitable mate for you."

"So you've told me," Julian answered drily.  "Who do you think
is suitable, Garak--you?"

"I always imagined that we might have something."

"Might have, in the short term.  It couldn't have been anything 
more than that."  The doctor's expressive eyes widened with sym-
pathy.  "I know that this has hurt you--I never wanted that--but, 
Garak, if you do care for me, try to understand that this is what 
I want to do.  There can't be any more trouble."

"From me?" Garak smiled, showing his teeth.  

"Please, for your sake as well as ours."

"Very well, I will consider it.  Although, I wonder what lengths 
you would go to ensure my cooperation."

A small frown creased the doctor's brow.  "What are you suggesting?"  

"Just this: You said that there'd be no point in my getting rid 
of Commander Sisko.  It would accomplish nothing.  But what if 
I were to assure you that your commander will be in no future 
danger--at least, as far as _I_ am concerned?  Wouldn't you be 
eager to express your gratitude?  Perhaps even guarantee it in 
advance?"

Julian stared at him in amazement.  "You mean that you want..."

"You," said Garak, getting straight to the point.  "Surely that 
doesn't surprise you?"

"Um- no. I thought you might be leading up to something like this." 
Bashir began to fidget, then gulped nervously. "So, if I spend the 
night with you, you'll leave us alone after that?" 

"There will be no more 'trouble'," Garak replied and, as Bashir 
rose from his chair, he came forward swiftly; leaving Julian no 
time to consider his options, he took the young man in his arms to 
kiss him hard. Julian struggled briefly, then permitted the kiss, 
but he did not respond to it.  Garak could feel the hard knots of 
muscle trembling in the doctor's arms, braced against his chest.  
He was not overly concerned by this lack of enthusiasm--he had no 
doubt that he could overcome Bashir's reluctance.  There would be 
plenty of time to do so.

Garak released the doctor's mouth.  "Only one night?" he asked. 
"You think that's what I'm asking for?"

"What then?"

"I won't be satisfied with having you for one night, Doctor.  I 
want you, exclusively.  I want you to break your bond to Sisko, 
and agree to belong to me.  Is that enough of a long-term commit-
ment for you?"

Julian pulled back to stare at him in amazement. "Come on, Garak
--This is ridiculous! You know I won't do that."

"Won't you? Not even for your beloved commander's life?"  He met 
Bashir's incredulous gaze steadily, coolly, and watched as his 
amazement turned to sickened disbelief. 

"Garak..." 

"I'm sorry to be so harsh, but it seems to be the only way to 
bring you to your senses.  I can't stand by and allow you to 
make this kind of mistake.  I know you're unwilling to accept 
my terms now, but in time, you'll see that I am right.  You 
don't belong with him. You are mine."  He tried to draw Julian 
into another kiss, but this time, the doctor resisted.

"Did you really think this would work, Garak?" Bashir spoke 
icily.  "This is what you had planned from the beginning--You 
get me here to spring your little trap.  You threaten to kill 
the man I'm about to marry unless I break it off with him.  And 
what did you expect me to do--Throw my arms around you and say 
'Oh, yes! You're the one I truly loved all along'?"  There was 
a jeering note to these words that made the tailor wince.  "But 
what do you care what I feel?  It doesn't matter to you, as long 
as you get what _you're_ after.  Bastard.  I was stupid enough 
to feel sorry for you." 

Garak let him go.  "I don't want your pity," he spat.  "And I 
don't want a noble sacrifice to spare your lover's life."  He 
searched that hard face for a long moment, then said, "Julian, 
go away."

Julian hesitated, suspicious.

"Go, _now_!  Before I change my mind."

Bashir retreated.  At the door, he turned back for an instant.  
His expression softened; that look of sympathy returned.  Then 
he was gone.

~|*|~

When Sisko came by the doctor's quarters later that evening,
Bashir was trying on the tunic with the black trousers from his
dress uniform.  

"So, you are going to wear it?"

"Yes, why not?  Dax and O'Brien have scanned it down to its mole-
cular components, and there's not a thing wrong with it."  Julian 
tugged on the hem and smoothed the front as he studied himself in 
the mirror.  "It fits beautifully."  

"It looks very nice on you."  Ben's eyes swept up and down him
appreciatively.  "You've had that talk with Garak?"

Julian nodded.  "He won't be any trouble.  I know this will sound 
funny, but it's because he does care for me."  

"And what about you?" Ben asked quietly.  "There's still time to 
back out of this if you want to."

Julian froze in the middle of making a small adjustment to one 
of the sleeves and turned to him, mouth open in surprise.  "What 
makes you think I want out of this?"

"Since Garak gave you that tunic, I can't shake the impression 
that you still have some unresolved feelings for him.  I want you 
to be sure of what you're doing before we take this step."

"I _am_ sure!" the younger man insisted.  "All right, it's true--
I did have feelings for him...once.  I don't now.  Garak gave me 
a chance to break this off.  I could have done what he wanted, if 
it'd been what I wanted too.  I didn't."

"I'm glad to hear you say that."  He gave Julian a flashing smile.  
"So, I'm the one you're in love with?"

Julian beamed in return.  "Since that day you hugged me in the 
men's room.  I wished then that you'd never let me go--I haven't 
changed my mind about it since."  Then he added more seriously, 
"You know what everyone's been saying about us:  We only came 
together because we were scared, and once we had settled back 
into our lives here, we wouldn't need each other anymore.  Maybe 
they're right about how this began, but it isn't true now.  What 
they don't understand is how this experience has changed us...
changed _me_.

"I'm not the same person I was.  Living that other life forced me 
to grow up in ways I might never have.  I had a home with you, and 
the first stable relationship of my life.  We were practically a
married couple then, and I was happy that way.  After we came home, 
I saw that I couldn't just pick up my old life again--chasing after 
Dax, flirting over lunch with Garak, and getting nowhere.  _This_ 
is what I want, Ben.  I'll do whatever I have to to make it work."

They moved closer for a hug--then froze as the same thought 
occurred to them both: *If Garak had sabotaged the tunic, he 
would have set it to activate at exactly a moment like this.*  

Cautiously, they placed their arms around each other.  Nothing
happened.

Julian laughed.  "If anything goes wrong," he said after a kiss, 
"we won't have Garak to blame for it."

Ben slid one hand under the golden loops to undo the front panel 
of the tunic.  "We still have a few days before we can get away, 
but I don't think I want to wait `til we get to Risa to start our 
honeymoon."

"Neither do I," Julian responded as he helped his lover extract 
him from the tunic; Ben tossed it to a nearby chair, then began 
to kiss down his bare chest as he unfastened the trousers.  Julian 
stepped back to slip out of them.  "So why don't we start it right 
now?"   Wearing just his briefs, he headed for the bedroom.    

Ben went after him, stripping his uniform as he followed.

~|*|~

It had gone exactly as he'd planned.  His gift had caused a satis-
factory amount of anxiety and confusion; that was almost revenge 
enough.  If it also planted a seed of mistrust between Bashir and 
Sisko, so much the better.  Bashir had come to him, just as Garak 
had anticipated.  The doctor had been compassionate, apologetic, 
eager to placate him--all emotions that were easily played upon.  
He'd directed the conversation skillfully and, once he presented
his offer, he had only to take advantage of Bashir's surprise...

Then he realized that he had already lost.

Garak remained certain that he could have forced Bashir to accede 
to his wishes. Once, the mere possession of that body might have 
been enough; now, he discovered that he was not as pragmatic as 
he liked to believe. He did care what Julian felt.  In fact, he 
cared very much.  At the precise moment he had realized this, 
however, he had seen nothing in Bashir's face but the depths of 
the doctor's contempt for him.  

The embarrassing truth was that Bashir's mocking words had struck 
a nerve; in his heart, he had hoped that Julian still retained some
desire for him and only wanted to be given an inescapable excuse 
to get out of his upcoming marriage.  After that scene, Garak could 
no longer deceive himself:  He could have coerced the doctor into 
his bed, if only for one night, but he couldn't force Julian to 
love him.  If Julian did surrender, it would be to protect Sisko
--the man whom he cared for more.  That would give his supposed 
victory a bitter taste.  

And so, he had let Julian go.

He did not speak to Bashir again before the doctor married and
left for Risa.  After Bashir had gone, he went on just as he had
always done: he opened his shop every morning, had lunch at the
Replimat alone, and returned to his quarters at the end of the 
day.  He wasn't going to leave the station.  He wouldn't make 
a scene.  As much as he enjoyed a good drama, why make himself 
ridiculous?  Even though he had not promised to do so, he would 
make no further threats against the couple.  After all, he had 
suffered far greater losses in his life and he knew how to bear 
defeat gracefully. 

He regretted that he wasn't able to see Julian wearing his gift,
but he did not attend the wedding.  That was more than he could 
stand.

~|end|~


Kathryn Ramage                           kramage@erols.com
~*|*~*|*~~*|*~*|*~~*|*~*|*~~*|*~*|*~~*|*~*|*~~*|*~*|*~~*|*~
"It's about Garak...I'm afraid this relationship has gotten 
a little out of hand."
                                - Dr. Bashir, Past Prologue