Chapter Text
Garak, Julian, Lieutenant Dax, and Major Kira had been beamed down to a planet recently caught up in the Dominion War, with many casualties and in need of equipment and supplies. It was in some ways a routine mission, but such missions had only become routine due to the onset of full-blown war between the Quadrants. The Doctor attended to those whose injuries required treatments which the local makeshift infirmary and barely trained medical staff could not provide; Major Kira directed the distribution of supplies, whilst Lieutenant Dax assessed their technical capabilities and did her best to improve what little they had. They were allies in this desperate war and they could not afford to lose any of them. Garak's purpose was almost ambassadorial – this planet had taken in defecting Cardassians, who had somehow smuggled themselves off Cardassia Prime, fleeing from their now Dominion-occupied home world, and who had transferred their loyalties to the side of the Federation. Ostensibly, Garak was there to demonstrate to these new political refugees (and fighters in the war) that the Federation and Cardassia were indeed working together for the liberation of their people – underneath this, he was to extract as much information as he could discreetly manage, and to ascertain how earnest these Cardassians were in their newfound loyalty to the Federation. It had been some time since he had seen so many of his own people, and even longer since he had met them in this capacity, considered a comrade-in-arms rather than an outcast. Once he had approached the first Cardassian, he had switched off his universal translator, and they reciprocated the gesture. Oh, how wonderful to hear Cardassi, living, spoken, not out of the mouths of lifeless robotic recordings. It also made his task easier, as without the need for the universal translator he could dissect the nuances and inflections of his native tongue, drawing out further information, merely by picking up on a certain manner of phrasing, an intonation, a choice of word. He had not enjoyed himself so thoroughly in a long while. Engaging in unfiltered Cardassian conversation, even if only briefly, and for a specific, calculated purpose under not exactly ideal circumstances, awoke a part of him that he could not access on the space station.
As he was conversing with his compatriots, he sensed someone's eyes on him, though not unfriendly. The Doctor, whilst evidently scanning a patient with a tricorder, had glanced his way with as much subtlety as he could manage. He enjoyed having Julian's gaze upon him, and not only for the more obvious and physical reasons. Certainly, it was a thrill to be in the (to him) unusual position of experiencing being looked upon or looked over as something positive instead of being a high-alert threat and warning. He could admit to the pleasure evoked in him by Julian's warm brown eyes examining his figure, moving over him as if he was seeking to caress him without actually touching his scales – this type of seduction sent heat straight to his neck ridges every time he was subject to it and the Doctor was irritatingly (fortunately) all too aware of his impact and in recent times, had become bolder and bolder in deploying such covert caressing glances in public places. For he loved nothing more than to test and tease his partner, and to see how he would react and repay him later. However, this was not one such glance. This was another kind, which Garak found equally arousing, however in a very different manner. Julian was looking for information, was cataloguing his movements and expressions, interpreting them as best he could, and at an unspecified time in the future, he would try use these micro-fragments to gain further information about Garak, to draw him out, and his lover would give him something small, hint at something else, lead him away from it, and add another layer to their interactions. More often than not, Julian was not quite equal to the task, yet Garak hesitated to formulate this assessment in exactly this manner.
When he and Julian had first become a couple, he had initiated this aspect of their relationship, this game, which, as with all games, was at its heart deadly serious, and he had misunderstood Julian's inability to read his signals or to pick up on the trail he was feeding out to him. He had misinterpreted it as a lack of interest, of real interest on Julian's side. It had been too easy to convince himself of the superficiality of the Doctor's feelings for him, at best, and of their calculated deceit, at worst. Indeed, he himself had, to start with, been drawn to Julian due to his sheer physical beauty, a bonus to having a source on the station he could easily manipulate, a piece of amusement. But somewhere along the way, the situation had gone terribly wrong for him as he found himself subject to strong feelings for this human, and well, that often made it difficult for him to objectively assess how things were between them. He was plagued by continual doubts, and he was too ashamed to allow his partner to be made aware of this. He had mistakenly believed that if Julian was not partaking of the game laid out for him, this then indicated his lack of corresponding strong feelings. After operating under a heavy darkness for several days, he re-examined their interactions, and casting his mind back to the aftermath of Richard and Amsha Bashir's visit to the station, some niggling pieces had fallen into place. It was not that his partner did not care – he simply struggled to read such nuance which Cardassians took for granted, such unspoken meanings and hints. It related to his childhood, when he was still a boy called Jules, before being made an augment. The darkness had cleared to be replaced by a softer kind of sadness for his partner – not because of how he was, for to Elim Garak, he was perfectly him and required no fundamental change. It was a sadness for the little boy who had been told he was not how he was supposed to be in this world. He wondered if Jules, and Julian, had often been lonely, faced with such reactions. The sadness was felt on Julian's behalf because recognised that his partner to some degree still felt that he was not how he was supposed to be in this world. Julian was aware that other sorts of interactions and meanings were taking place around him which he could scarcely perceive, let alone read or respond to. That was when Garak had first noticed how Julian observed him and gazed upon him in this information-seeking manner. He seemed to have determined that taking his cue from Garak in certain social situations, or other situations requiring more diplomacy, was a good strategy, and Garak could not fault him there. It did not escape his notice how Julian copied certain responses and affects from him, to be deployed where he had extrapolated they would be most effective. By consciously doing this, he did begin to learn about this other way of communicating and at some point, it had clicked for him too that Garak was communicating with him in a manner heretofore unrecognised by him. The first time he had felt Julian's eyes upon him in this way, knowing he was now actively attempting to play his game, had been rewarding and overwhelming in equal parts. He was aware that Julian was currently watching him, noting some small difference in him, and as he had not witnessed him and his fellow Cardassians turning off their universal translators, he was not aware precisely what was colouring Garak's interactions. Or perhaps he did? How did Garak appear to outside observers when talking in Cardassi, unfiltered, with other native speakers? Did his external demeanour shift to match his internal setting? What did Julian make of it? Oh, to be on an unending journey of discovery and being discovered by this man, he wanted so much to give himself over to that adventure. He sought to refocus his attentions on the task at hand, distancing himself from the far too pleasant hooks of the fascination his partner held for him.
Due to their universal translators being turned off, it took Garak and the other Cardassians a few moments to realise something had happened. It was only by reading the expressions and actions of those around them that they understood something was malfunctioning. Kira was shaking her head, as if seeking to dislodge an insect or something else of an irritating or buzzing nature; Lieutenant Dax was using her tricorder, sweeping the area, glancing back at Kira. Kira seemed to be cursing using a long and creative string of phrases, combined in new ways. Garak could hear her just about and recognised she was speaking in Bajoran. He turned his universal translator back on and was hit by a highly unpleasant squeal of feedback followed by static. Something had knocked out their translators. Garak shifted his position, his first suspicion that this was a deliberate act of sabotage and some kind of attack was imminent – his eyes fell on Kira and judging by her stance, she had reached the same conclusion as him. Julian clearly knew something had happened, either unexpected or bad (and those two were usually one and the same) but he had a patient to attend to, and so he carried on with this until his work was completed. None of them spoke, the only sound the bleeping of Lieutenant Dax's tricorder as she swept the premises. Once his patient was treated, Julian had moved nearer to Garak, and he could feel that he very much wanted to ask him something but knew to wait until Lieutenant Dax's signal. She sighed and turned to them, beginning to speak, in Trill. The others all looked baffled and Lieutenant Dax realised this as her words trailed off uncertainly. Garak cleared his throat.
“Forgive me, Lieutenant.” He began in somewhat hesitant Trill. “But the majority here do not understand your language. This is the limits of what I can communicate, though I understand most of what you're saying.”
“You speak Trill?” Julian asked him, astonished. Oh, he did enjoy his partner's tones in Federation Standard, so clean and precise.
“Of course he speaks Trill, Julian.” Kira snapped in her particular Bajoran dialect, which Garak was surprised that a universal translator had even been capable of processing. “And every other language imaginable, I'm sure.”
“Well, not every other one, but I thank you for the compliment.” He switched to High Bajoran. “However, I would very much like to become conversant in Breen or Dominionese, such fascinating languages.”
“You speak Bajoran?” Julian asked.
Lieutenant Dax cut across them, speaking in Trill, appearing at once frustrated and confused.
“Right.” Kira said. “We need to try communicate with one another. Garak has us all at a disadvantage.” She had adopted a mixture of Bajoran and pidgin Cardassi; it was not the most elegant but she could make herself understood.
“You speak Cardassi?” Julian's brow was furrowed.
Kira gave him another exasperated look. “Julian, I only have a limited amount of Federation Standard but already I've learned a new sentence from what you keep repeating. I was a Bajoran under the occupation, of course I can speak Cardassi.”
The other Cardassians appeared sceptical about this last statement but kept their counsel. Lieutenant Dax joined in, speaking an awkward Federation Standard mixed with Trill and Klingon.
“None of my hosts learned Cardassi or Bajoran, and my memories of Standard are not the freshest. There's other languages they had but none of them are useful right now.”
“Was that Klingon?”
Kira didn't even respond to Julian this time, just gave him a look.
They found a stuttering rhythm, where Dax managed to put across her theory about the natural forces and energy fields on this planet which had knocked out their translators and what she could do to get them back online, for the planet, not just themselves. When Dax made recourse to Trill or Klingon, Garak would provide the Federation Standard, Bajoran, and Cardassi equivalent. As Dax began to readjust certain frequencies using her tricorder, Garak heard Kira saying to the Trill:
“You'll have to teach me some of that language of yours another time.”
Inwardly, Garak noted the very flirtatious tone to the Bajoran's voice. Dax seemed to pick up this aspect of it if not the content, merely by Kira's interested facial expression, the way her eyes were on her, her open stance towards her, and the Lieutenant responded in kind with an equally flirtatious and interested look, followed by another string of Trill which was when Garak thought it would be more polite to stop listening to this particular conversation. The other Cardassians remained close together, conversing amongst themselves; already made nervous by their recent experiences, they were more suspicious of this current situation and Garak found it understandable that they would wish to remain apart from them, even including him.
He turned to Julian. His partner was standing unnaturally, his frame very straight, a taut line in his jaw and a muscle flicking there at irregular intervals. His breathing was also unnaturally regular and controlled – he was practising his breathing exercises. This situation was stressful in the extreme to him, beyond what the other members of their party were experiencing. Garak did not quite know what was causing this and he wanted to attend to that later. Now, he wished to try bring some relief to his partner, as subtly as possible. If only they were back in their quarters where he could attend to him properly, and not under the eyes of others, particularly, other Cardassians.
“I have always found it very strange to converse with others in a language other than the one you are accustomed to speaking with that person.” He said in Federation Standard. “It seems that once one language is established between two persons, then it is very difficult to deviate from that. Although the question of the universal translator complicates the idea of what language we believe ourselves to be hearing.”
Julian seemed to gain little relief from his attempts at light conversation.
“Why can you speak so many languages?”
Garak was beginning to become a small bit irritated himself at Julian's current belligerence. He already knew why Garak could speak these languages, even if it had never been directly raised or addressed between them. To discuss this out loud, now, in front of others, was an act of obtuseness so blatant that Garak could only interpret it as being deliberate, and he had to work out to what end his partner was indulging himself in such petty behaviour. Garak took a deep breath, attempting to dissipate some of the tension he was picking up from Julian, which was combining with his tetchiness at the predicament in which they found themselves.
“Well, I have always been loathe to read literature in translation, with no slight intended upon the ancient profession of translators, but nothing can replace the experience of reading works in their original intended form. I have often wondered if this is why non-Cardassians fail to appreciate our literature. I believe a lot is sadly lost in translation.”
“It's not normal, to speak so many languages.” Julian's tones were truly obnoxious now, childish to boot. No, he wanted to retort, it wasn't, but there was a reason why he was lumbered with this thankless ability and perhaps one day he would even be capable of telling him why. Garak's irritation rose but he took a moment before responding, considering what Julian had said, what was really underneath this mood which was fast becoming a sulk. They had drawn Kira's attention once again, as she was now at a loose end with Dax busily at work on what seemed a viable solution to their issues. She had not caught every word of their conversation, but the bits she had understood, combined with Julian's mulish expression told her enough. Oh, this was not going to help at all, Garak sighed to himself.
“Well, maybe speaking as many languages as Garak can isn't normal but being able to speak another language or some other languages is totally normal.”
Julian looked at her, not comprehending her Bajoran at all. A few beats passed. Knowing it would not improve Julian's mood but also knowing he had to let Julian understand what had just been said, he quickly rendered the meaning of Kira's words into Federation Standard, adopting as neutral a tone as possible. Julian's reaction was instant – his expression darkened further and he tossed his head, turning away from Garak, his lips pressed into a thin line. Kira was delighted by this reaction and realisation dawned on her and Garak at roughly the same time.
“You can't be serious!” She exclaimed in the peculiar case particular to Bajoran, a conjugation of the verb to express surprise. “You can't speak any other languages, can you? Not one! Only Federation Standard. Can't you even speak any other Terran languages, even a dead one? How can you not speak other languages?” She was thoroughly amused by this and uncharacteristically delighted by it, and Garak wondered at what lay beneath Kira's own reaction, for it struck him as gleeful in an uncharitable way he knew not to be how she regularly interacted with others.
Julian refused to meet her gaze, and a flush had bloomed on his cheeks – he could not understand what Kira was saying but he could certainly tell that he was being mocked. Garak looked over at Dax tapping way industriously and willed her to hurry up so they could remove themselves from this situation as he was not certain he would be able to defuse it if it continued to escalate. When Dax moved closer to him, he murmured out of the corner of his mouth in Trill: “Please give her something to do.”
The Lieutenant assessed the other woman, and touched her arm, indicating she needed assistance with something; thankfully, the ploy was effective. However, the damage had already been done. Garak sought to approach Julian but his lover was unresponsive, deliberately withdrawing himself from what was taking place around him. In spite of the how irritated he was, it hurt Garak to witness Julian like this, and he experienced a strong protective instinct towards the younger man. It seemed as if Julian was somehow overwhelmed by what was taking place around him, and yet he had certainly been exposed to far more stressful situations than this one. Garak wondered where the difference lay and what was effecting him. He let Julian be, sensing that further words and input were the opposite of what he required at this time. Garak examined his face – his mouth was downturned, set and grim, at odds with the man he was accustomed to sharing his time with. Even when the Doctor was frustrated by something or reacted negatively to a situation, his countenance had not been this dark or distant. There was a sense of disconnect here. His eyes were not seeing what was happening around him, they were focused inward, on somewhere only Julian could see, a time in the past.
Garak listened to the voices around him, the criss-crossing currents of different languages, sifting through them, enjoying this play of sounds and words. He took such pleasure in other languages (although it had not always been this way), and yet it was apparent, to him at least, that for Julian it was rather a source of shame, and even distress. Then there was a faint click and whirring, and once again, the universal translators were functioning. Lieutenant Dax's face was lit up with quiet pleasure at her own success and he heard Kira's cry of thanks to the Prophets for being able to talk easily again.
Soon after this, they returned to the station. As they disembarked, Garak made to move towards Julian, hoping they would be able to retire to their quarters for some much needed quiet and time away from others. Instead, Julian muttered something about going to play tennis on the Holosuites and Garak watched his partner's back as he moved further away from him and through the crowd on the Promenade.