Contracts and Obligations Part I

[dark_sinestra]

Author Notes: This story takes place during Body Parts.

Summary: A fatal diagnosis from a Ferengi doctor forces Quark to look to settling his affairs, and a near fatal accident on a runabout means a sudden change of address for Miles and Keiko O'Brien's unborn son. A visit from the ruthless Ferengi liquidator Brunt drives Quark to a desperate and dangerous arrangement with Garak, who realizes perhaps his days as an assassin are not as behind him as he believed.

Author: Dark Sinestra

Date Written: May 2010

Category: Slash

Rating: NC-17 for explicit sexual content and adult situations, and mild adult language.

Disclaimer: You know it. I know it. Paramount knows it. These characters and setting aren't mine. I'm not selling this work. The only “profit” is fun.

Word Count: 17,124

 

 

Garak

Holosuite One

Cardassian Sauna Program

 

Garak sighed with contentment as he basked naked on the rock beneath the heat source. It was very kind of Ziyal to loan him the program for his own personal use. Steam rose from the hidden water source beneath the central structure and bathed his parched sinuses with blessed moisture. How ironic, he thought, that I should have to resort to holosuite use to garner a little privacy. That was the problem with overfilling a social calendar. Friends would decide that they had the right to impose at inconvenient times, and he would feel the tug of obligation to accommodate the impositions.

 

Not here. Thanks to Quark's scrupulous adherence to his holosuite policies, no one would disturb Garak while he indulged in his paid sabbatical from others' grief, neediness, and curiosity. He heard nothing but the soft hiss of the steam, the measured rhythm of his own breaths, and the unmistakable warning blip of a holosuite door opening. His eyes flew wide, his clothing folded neatly across the chamber from him. “Computer, towel!” he barked, rolling off the rock and whisking the newly materialized swath of terrycloth around his waist without a moment to spare.

 

“Garak!” Rom said, hurrying toward him from the cavern entrance. “Oh, Garak, it's horrible!”

 

It had better be, Garak thought grimly, or I'm going to wring your neck. “What is it? What has happened?” he asked.

 

“It's Brother,” Rom said, tears in his eyes. “He's dying!”

 

“Right this instant?” he did his best to muster a sympathetic face on his friend's behalf. “Shouldn't you be at his side?”

 

“No, not right this instant.” Rom sank to a seat on one of the rocks, his hands hanging limp between his knees and head downcast. “In a few days. He has Dorek Syndrome.”

 

Garak eased toward his clothing, talking all the way. “I've never heard of it,” he admitted.

 

“I'm not surprised. It's very rare. Only one in five million Ferengi ever exhibit symptoms.”

 

“I see,” Garak said, reaching to his thin undershirt, shaking it out, and pulling it over his head. He wondered what Rom expected him to do besides offer a sympathetic ear, something he wasn't much in a mood for after the drama of the past month or so. “Rom, I hope you don't take this the wrong way...” He turned his back to the man so that he could pull on his pants without flashing him, “but I'm not sure what I can do to help you. You have my sympathy, of course, but...”

 

“I'm glad you asked,” the Ferengi said, standing and turning to face him. “There is something you can do.”

 

“Oh?” Garak asked carefully. He turned to face him again while fastening his tunic.

 

Rom nodded earnestly. “You can bid on a piece of Brother.”

 

“Bid on...” it clicked before he could finish his question. Of course, that revolting custom of theirs of desiccating and chopping up the body to be sold in little dishes. He suppressed a shudder. “No,” he said, straightening himself and squaring his shoulders.

 

“No? Garak, as a friend...”

 

“As your friend, I can assure you that if you die before I do, I'll...find it within myself to buy a piece of you,” he said, unsure of whether he was speaking the truth in that moment or not. “Not your brother. I find the way he has treated you, Nog, and Leeta utterly unconscionable. He is rude, domineering, and more mercenary than an Orion slave trader. The thought of having him around me for the rest of my life, even in desiccated disk form, is just too repugnant to contemplate.”

 

Rom blinked back more tears. “You'd bid on me?” he asked.

 

He gave him one of his blandest smiles. “Let us both hope that never becomes an issue,” he said. “Honestly, you should go spend time with him. As things stand, you'll have me to...” pester, “speak to for far longer. Is there anything else at the moment?”

 

The Ferengi nodded, turning from burnt sienna to deep ochre. “It's very hot in here,” he said then promptly collapsed.

 

Julian

USS Volga

Gamma Quadrant

 

Keiko sat well back in her seat, her eyes closed and a hand over the slight swell of her pregnant belly. A thin sheen of sweat slicked her features. Julian watched her with a concerned look and glanced back at Kira in the pilot seat. “I'm fine,” Keiko said, sounding anything but that. “Stop looking at me like that, Julian.”

 

“I'm not looking at you like anything,” he said lightly.

 

“I can feel it,” she said. “You and Major Kira both. Like I told you before, I'm just feeling nauseated. It comes with the territory.”

 

“Can't you give her something?” Kira asked, frowning.

 

“I've given her as much of the anti-emetic as I dare,” he answered. “Maybe you'd like some more ginger tea?” He turned his attention back to Keiko.

 

She opened her eyes and fixed him with a very unamused dark glare. “I'm swimming in tea already. Getting up and down to use the facilities is counteracting any benefit I'm getting from the ginger. Both of you are worse than Miles. Would you please just stop worrying about me? You're making me feel guilty for coming along.”

 

“Sorry,” Kira said, turning back to face the view port and making a small course correction.

 

“I'd feel guilty if I wasn't tending to your comfort and safety,” Julian said with a small smile. “Like it or not, I am your doctor.”

 

“More like my pain in the...”

 

“Hey,” Kira said, swiveling her chair to address both of them, “I'm getting an anomalous bio-signature from the asteroid field we passed on our way to Torad Five.”

 

Keiko gave her a subdued hopeful look. “Really? It might be worth checking out. Life forms on asteroids are very rare.”

 

Julian cut in. “It could be nothing more than a bit of particulate matter. It's not necessarily a life form.”

 

Kira nodded. “True, but it shouldn't put a huge strain on our deflector array to take a look. I'd need your help, Doctor.”

 

“Sounds like a plan, then,” he said, moving away from Keiko and taking a seat in the co-pilot chair.

 

“All right,” Kira said, glancing at Julian. “I'm thinking the safest way will be to handle this manually. Asteroids can shift faster than the auto-pilot can react. It's not a dense field. It doesn't mean there won't be some concentrated pockets worse than others. Just keep your eyes on the sensors, and if you don't hear a proximity alert but see something coming our way, tell me.”

 

Julian nodded and focused his attention on the panel before him. As tempting as it was to look up to the view port, he knew better. It wasn't the debris directly in front of them they needed to worry about. For the first fifteen minutes, he didn't feel too concerned. They were navigating the field with relative ease. Kira was relaxed at the controls, projecting an air of quiet competence.

 

“Uh oh,” she said, suddenly sitting up straighter and leaning slightly forward over her control console. “You see that?” she asked, pointing at the flat screen between them. “There's some sort of eddy, and I'm not seeing any clear route around it to get to our target. Let's hope the shields do their job. It's probably about to get a little bumpy.”

 

“Understood,” he said. “Adjusting proximity sensors to maximum sensitivity.”

 

Several times the proximity warning clanged. Each time Julian saw that they narrowly avoided a collision thanks to the quick reflexes of the major. He knew better than to disrupt her concentration by speaking. He felt a few light shudders from the craft, impacts to the shields from space debris not large enough to worry about avoiding. “We're almost there,” Kira said with cautious optimism.

 

“Major!” Julian snapped suddenly. “Hard to port! Hard to...” His words were cut off by a jarring impact that threw him from his seat. Light and heat flooded the compartment, almost simultaneous with a deafening boom that left his ears ringing. Blinking back retinal phantoms, he saw Kira still doggedly at the controls. The hiss of the fire suppression system filled the air with its white, choking chemical.

 

“We're out of the field,” Kira said, “but we've sustained heavy damage. We've lost a fuel pod. The deflector array is completely down, and the nav array is sluggish.”

 

He hardly heard her, his vision clearing enough to show him Keiko all the way across the runabout from where she had been seated, blood streaming from her head, soaking her hair, and beginning to pool beneath her. “We've got bigger problems than that,” he said, scrambling forward on all fours. “Help me get her to the back. Hurry!”

 

Kira ran over to him, her dark eyes huge. “Her head,” she said.

 

“I know!” he snapped. “Hold it as steady as you possibly can while I lift her. Do not let that neck move!”

 

They got her settled on the single biobed in the back. Julian watched the data from the vitals scan. “Oh, no,” he said. “No, no, no...this is not going to happen. Major, bring me hypospray vials of phenylephrine and metaraminol.”

 

He heard Kira clattering in the medicine locker while he used a basic cauterizer to staunch the blood loss from Keiko's head wound. He quickly fitted her with a neural caliper to prevent her from awakening and exacerbating her internal injuries and a breathing tube to help her collapsed lung. Kira pressed both vials into his hands. He methodically docked first one and then the other to the hypospray and administered each. With the aid of the biobed systems, Keiko started to stabilize. “I'm going to need to operate right now to remove that rib from her...” He blinked at the secondary monitor. “The baby,” he said.

 

“What?” Kira asked tightly. “Julian! What about the baby?”

 

“He's rejecting the metaraminol that's preventing Keiko from succumbing to shock. His autonomic functions are failing.”

 

“Can you deliver him?” Kira asked, her face creasing deeply with dismay.

 

“No. He's not viable. He won't be for at least another two months. If I had full access to a surgical center, maybe.” He stared at Kira, a sudden thought coming to him. “Actually, there might be something I can do. You need to decide right now. Will you be willing to carry this baby?”

 

“Is that even possible?” she asked, her mouth dropping open.

 

“He's dying! Yes, or no?” he demanded, no time for pleasantries or explanations.

 

“Y—yes,” she said, nodding. “What do you need me to do?”

 

Garak

Replimat Café

 

To all appearances, Garak was simply sitting at his favorite table enjoying an afternoon mug of red leaf tea and a half serving of spice pudding. No one needed to know how closely he watched the infirmary, one finger occasionally tapping the side of his mug in idle rhythm. He wiped his mouth after each fastidious bite of his snack. He had seen Chief O'Brien dashing by his shop less than an hour before with such a look of horror that he could only assume that Julian's survey party had returned and that it had not ended well.

 

Captain Sisko came into view, walking like a man with a purpose. The tailor watched him enter the infirmary. Shifting himself to greater comfort, he lifted his mug and took a sip. A few minutes after Captain Sisko, he saw Ziyal on the same heading, frowning with worry. She paused when she saw him across the Promenade from her, glanced once at the infirmary doors and hurried in his direction. “Nerys just contacted me,” she said without preamble. “There was an accident on the way back from the survey. They're all OK. Mrs. O'Brien is in surgery. Nerys said she had something to tell me in person. She sounded a little strange. I figured you'd want to know that Doctor Bashir is all right. They probably didn't tell you anything, did they?”

 

His own little spy. He felt a small twinge of guilt for how readily she informed him of anything he wished to know. He wasn't above using her to bypass more difficult channels. He wondered if she knew it and didn't care. “No,” he said, inclining his head in gratitude. “To be fair, I haven't asked. Go on and see the major. I'm fine, just enjoying a little afternoon tea.”

 

She shot him a look older than her years and smirked slightly. “You like your red leaf cold, do you?”

 

He had to admire her observational skills. They doubtless served her in her art, which he had yet to see. “It's refreshing,” he said without missing a beat.

 

She shook her head in mock exasperation and hurried away from him in the half skip-trot he thought took years from her when she did it. Now that he had the answers he sought, there was no further need to linger at his table drinking unpleasantly cold tea. He cleaned up after himself and returned to his shop to finish his work day.

 

Private Quarters

 

Once home for the evening, the tailor busied himself with puttering, straightening this, putting away that, knowing fully well that he wouldn't settle until Julian came to him and he could see for himself what toll this newest crisis took on the man. Although he didn't believe in luck, he was half tempted to say that the doctor's share of it had been exceedingly bad lately, one thing after another hammering at him from every direction, professional and personal. He couldn't blame Leeta for her last reaction to the doctor's personal lapse, yet her final loss of patience couldn't have come at a worse time. Is there ever really a good time for leaving someone? he wondered. He supposed not. As he had been asked by both of them, he hadn't breathed a word of the split to anyone. He couldn't understand why they felt it was important to hold up some hollow facade when their business was their own. It wasn't his to question.

 

His stomach growled. “I'll have none of that from you,” he informed it aloud. He decided he would wait a reasonable time for Julian before supper. Eating together always seemed to calm the man and was Garak's best gauge for his true mood. He settled himself with a trade magazine PADD and allowed himself a couple of hours of distraction. He forced himself to wait a few beats before responding to the door chime he had hoped to hear. “Enter,” he said pleasantly.

 

Julian crossed his threshold with dragging steps. The stench of melted plastics, smoke, and fire suppressant reached Garak's nose a moment later. He set his PADD aside and stood, crossing quickly to the doctor and settling a firm hand to his shoulder. “To the shower with you,” he said, brooking no argument. “Stick that uniform in one of the containment bags from my closet, and be sure you seal it properly this time, please.”

 

The doctor snorted softly. “Good to see you, too.”

 

“That goes without saying,” Garak said, stopping at his bedroom door now that he was sure Julian had no intention of being contrary. “Dinner, heavy, medium, or light?”

 

“Heavy,” the man answered from the depths of his closet. He emerged with one of the clear bags Garak mentioned and began to strip from his uniform. “I feel like I could eat an entire rack of targ ribs with a whole brisket on the side.” He shoved the clothing into the bag without much concern for wrinkling. “That was hyperbole, by the way,” he added, smiling humorously, “but only slightly.”

 

Garak inclined his head and turned away before he could see his smile. It had been a long time since he had seen Julian with such an appetite. Whatever had happened on that runabout couldn't have been awful if he was so willing to eat despite obvious exhaustion. He went about the task of replicating the meal with quiet enthusiasm that was tarnished somewhat by the tiny size of his own portion in comparison. He touched his belt lightly to remind himself of why he was being so modest in his consumption. One more notch, and he'd either have to buy a new belt or pierce and trim it. The satisfaction of that was well worth the deprivation.

 

Julian emerged a bit later from the bedroom dressed in pajamas and looking refreshed, though still tired. He sat at the table across from Garak and began to eat with such speed that the tailor worried he might choke himself on the food. Garak measured his own pace, content to let the man nourish himself before attempting to ply him with questions.

 

“It was amazing,” Julian said without prompting. “I still can't believe it worked given the primitive facilities on the runabout.”

 

Garak set his fork aside. “Please tell me this isn't to be one of those dreadful conversations where you talk all around your classified information, leaving me nothing but meaningless tidbits to react to and feign interest in for the sake of being polite?”

 

“You feign interest?” the doctor asked, pretending outrage with a hand to his chest. “I'm hurt!” A moment later, he gave a closed lipped wry smile, his dark eyes shining. “No. This won't be one of those conversations. I had to transfer Keiko's baby to Kira.”

 

“Come again?” Garak frowned.

 

“You heard right,” he said, nodding enthusiastically. “Major Kira is now carrying the O'Briens' son. She's going to have to carry him to term, I'm afraid. It was that or lose him altogether. I've never felt more nervous than when I asked her if she'd be willing. There wasn't time for me to be persuasive or for her to think about it. Say what you like about Nerys. She has an amazing capacity for being selfless.” His ebullience faded slightly. “So many Bajorans do.”

 

“I'm happy you were able to save him,” Garak said, ignoring the indirect reference to Leeta, “and his mother.”

 

“You're only saying that for my sake,” Julian said, eying him with a touch of skepticism.

 

“Do my motives matter so very much?” the tailor asked archly.

 

“No, I suppose not,” he conceded. He took several more bites and continued. “It was one of the most amazing things I've ever seen. I had to prep Kira first, inject her with hormones and drugs so that her body wouldn't reject the fetus, and then I had to do a direct injection into the amniotic fluid for the baby, so that he would be ready for his new blood supply. I beamed him over. I was sweating bullets, because transporter technology isn't one of my specialties. If I was just slightly off on the coordinates, I could have killed the baby and the major both. Thank god Kira is young and healthy. For that matter, I'm so glad she wasn't one of Crell Moset's victims.”

 

“You know of Doctor Moset?” Garak asked, surprised.

 

Julian nodded tightly. “There are hundreds of men and women on Bajor who are permanently infertile thanks to some of his...experiments.”

 

“And thousands still alive thanks to his cure of the Fostossa virus,” he retorted a bit icily.

 

“I'd rather not have a fight about this,” Julian said. “I've had a very trying day that I'm lucky ended well. I would never have forgiven myself if I had lost Miles his wife or his son out there. I've lost enough patients to last me a lifetime in the past month.”

 

Garak nodded once. He was willing to set it aside for now. He had every intention of revisiting the topic at a later time. Moset was one of the most well respected and learned exobiologists on all of Cardassia. Garak had met him once long ago and found his to be a fine, sharp mind. “You were saying?” he prompted, keeping his thoughts to himself.

 

“I was saying...oh, yes. Watching the imaging after the transfer. The vascularization process began almost immediately. Kira's body readily accepted the fetus. The placenta connected perfectly. I'm sure she'll be sore for a few days. Her uterus stretched nearly instantaneously with the transport, but there were no complications. It's not the first time a Bajoran has acted as a surrogate for a human fetus, or I wouldn't have known it was possible. It's still a rare occurrence.”

 

“And you brought it about,” he said in a slightly taunting way.

 

“Don't start,” Julian said with a sigh. “As hard as it is to believe, I'm not telling you all of this to tout my own prowess in my field. That's...the old Julian.” A shadow passed behind his eyes. “I'm fully aware of my own limitations and how much pure, dumb luck plays a part in incidents like this. Had I still been seated where I was before we entered the asteroid field, I would have taken as much of the damage as Keiko did. Had she struck her head any harder, I may not have had time to save the baby, and had Kira refused to carry him, I couldn't have forced the issue.”

 

He had changed, Garak realized, and part of him was sad to see this sadder but wiser version of the eager young man he had greeted at his table what seemed like a lifetime ago. “Nonetheless, you found the best solution, and you executed it efficiently,” he said more sincerely. “Major Kira may come to curse the day you were born before all is said and done. It's a small price to pay for two lives saved, and I've survived her wrath intact thus far.”

 

“It seems that you two are getting along better these days,” Julian said with a slightly strange note in his voice.

 

“We are, largely on Ziyal's behalf. I doubt that either of us would choose to socialize together otherwise. I still get the feeling that she would prefer that the girl disliked me or saw me as someone to avoid.”

 

“What about you?” Julian asked. “Would you prefer that, too?”

 

“She's delightful company. Of course I wouldn't,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Would you?”

 

“You...do spend a good deal of time with her,” he said, picking at the remains of his food.

 

Garak arched an eye ridge, otherwise remaining silent.

 

“Leeta said it's nothing, but some people...don't agree.”

 

He leaned back from the table and folded his arms, the other eye ridge joining its twin.

 

“Forget I said anything. I think I'm done eating. Do you want me to go sleep in my own quarters, or is it all right if I stay here for the night? I seem to have irritated you.” Julian rose from his seat, taking his plate and Garak's for recycling.

 

“Do as you wish,” Garak said. “Just be aware that this is a postponed conversation, not an ended one.” He felt a small sense of satisfaction when Julian came to kiss him good-night and sequestered himself in the bedroom instead of leaving. It was an improvement over past patterns. If we're not careful, he thought dryly, we just might have to start saying we're in a relationship again.

 

Julian

The Infirmary

 

Pulling up a stool, Julian sat close to Keiko's bedside, watching her eyelids flutter. She was very close to wakefulness now, and he knew that it was important that he capture her attention right away. She moaned softly and turned her head on her pillow. “Miles?” she said groggily.

 

“He's close,” Julian said, reaching to take her hand. Her skin was cool and soft. He was glad she wasn't feverish. “I'll let you see him soon, but there's something you and I need to talk about first.”

 

Her dark eyes tracked slowly to focus on him. She blinked sluggishly. “Julian,” she said, as though confirming to herself his identity. “What is it? What happened?”

 

“There was an accident on the Volga. Do you remember the asteroid field?” he asked.

 

She shook her head. “Not really.” Her free hand strayed to her abdomen, and her brows dipped downward. “The baby?” she asked, suddenly looking much more alert. Her hand in his tightened on his fingers in a surprisingly strong grip.

 

“Is fine,” he said, holding her eye contact. The relief that flooded her features was nearly palpable. “That's something I need you to keep firmly in mind for me. Your baby is safe and healthy, all right?”

 

“All right,” she said, sounding uncertain. “There's something you're not telling me.”

 

“You were very badly injured in the accident,” he said. “The baby's life signs became unstable. If I wanted to save him, I had only one option, to transfer him to Major Kira's womb. Luckily, she agreed. She didn't hesitate, Keiko. Without that woman, there is no way I would've been able to save your child.”

 

She nodded, taking in his words with quiet intensity. “When can I have him back?” she asked.

 

He glanced away briefly. “That's the thing. You can't, not until he's born, at any rate. It's a peculiarity of the Bajoran reproductive system. If I tried to take him out, even now, it could kill him and Major Kira both.” She turned her face away, but not before he could see her crumpled expression of grief. “Would you like for me to bring Miles in for you?” he asked gently.

 

Her grip tightened to something painful. “No,” she husked. “Give me a few minutes, please.”

 

“Of course,” he said. “Take your time.” As she didn't release him, he sat silently at her side. She never made a sound. In some ways, it was much more difficult to see than Miles' open grief in the cargo bay. At least with Miles, he knew that he was a comfort. He sensed that for Keiko he was little more than an afterthought, something her hand clung to independently of her thoughts. He wondered at the forces in her life that shaped her into such a tightly controlled person and wondered if part of Miles' draw for her was his openness and freedom.

 

She released him to wipe at her eyes and face. “OK,” she said. “I'm ready now. Let him in. Does he know?”

 

He nodded. “I spoke with him last night after your surgery. He was surprised and worried, of course, but he took it pretty well. I think he's simply relieved not to have lost either of you.”

 

“He didn't want me to go on that mission,” she said, her voice heavy with bitterness.

 

“No,” he said, standing and cupping her cheek lightly. “Listen to me. There's no one to blame for this. Just because you were carrying a child didn't mean your life had to be put on hold. You didn't do anything wrong. Blaming yourself is a toxic attitude that will only serve to impede your recovery. I know for a fact Miles doesn't blame you. All right?” She nodded, her look enigmatic. He had no choice but to believe that she accepted what he said. It was obvious she was done speaking of it. “I'm going to go get him now,” he said, leaving her bedside to walk into the waiting room.

 

Miles stood the moment he saw him. “Can I see her now?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” he said, stopping him with a hand to his forearm. “Don't say anything about the mission, all right? She blames herself enough as it is.”

 

“I wouldn't,” he said earnestly. “I just want to see her.”

 

Julian nodded and let him go. His next stop was Kira's room. She was sitting up and looking impatient to be on her way. She already had a new uniform tunic that flattered the swell of her belly very nicely. Julian had to smile. “You wear it well,” he said, giving a gesture that encompassed her fullness.

 

“I'm not so sure about that,” she said wryly, “but it is what it is. How's Keiko?”

 

“I think it's going to be a bit of an adjustment for her,” he said. “She'll also have to deal with the hormonal effects of loss of the baby and placenta. I can give her certain drugs to counteract the effects somewhat, but I won't be able to take care of that altogether. It'll help if she can see you.”

 

Kira nodded, wide eyed. “Of course!” she said earnestly. “Any time, well...you know, any time I'm not on duty.” She put a hand over her belly. “This little guy is still hers. He's just...boarding with me.” She smiled.

 

Julian nodded, heartened by her attitude. “I'm really glad to hear you say that. I'm going to be honest with you. There are a lot of things I don't know about this situation. I know how human pregnancies run. I know a lot more about Bajoran pregnancies than I did fresh out of med school. I'm not nearly as knowledgeable about what happens to Bajorans carrying human babies. I've read what I can find on it, but each case was very different.” She nodded, listening closely to him. He knew this couldn't be easy for her, no matter how bright of a face she was trying to put on the situation. “Do you have any questions for me?”

 

She gave a soft half laugh. “I don't think I know enough yet to know what to ask. I'm sure I will when symptoms start popping up. Already, my lower back is starting to feel strained. I'm pretty sure that's normal, huh?”

 

“Very normal, yes, and probably more pronounced in you because your body hasn't had the chance to adjust to the changing weight and center of gravity gradually. It happened to you literally overnight. I want you to avoid taking any drugs as much as possible, even for pain. I have no idea how the metabolites in your system might affect the baby. You process chemicals very differently from the way humans do. I'll want to see you for religiously regular check ups. No excuses.”

 

“I promise,” she said. “I'm going to do everything in my power to deliver this baby safely. It's the biggest responsibility I've ever had in my life. I don't want to screw it up.”

 

It was very rare that he recalled that Kira was younger than he by a few years. She usually carried herself with such self-assuredness and singular purpose that she seemed light years ahead of him in experience. As he looked at her seated on the biobed, so utterly earnest and concerned, it hit him how hard won most of her maturity was and how little of what others took for granted as normal life she had ever experienced. He felt a tremendous surge of respect and gratitude, respect that she jumped to save a life without a second thought, gratitude that she was so willing to be there for a close friend of his and his wife, people she didn't know nearly as well, people who weren't even of her race.

 

“What is it?” she asked, tilting her head curiously and half smiling.

 

“I was just thinking how much I admire you,” he answered honestly.

 

She blushed and looked away. “I'm not that great,” she said.

 

“I beg to differ. I also know accepting compliments isn't easy for you, so I'll spare you further discomfort and tell you that unless there's something you're not telling me about how you feel, I'm releasing you for duty.”

 

“Really?” she asked, looking immensely relieved at the change of subject.

 

“Really,” he said, smiling and inclining his head. “But I want to see you back in three days for a wellness check. Sooner if there's any problem.”

 

“You will,” she said. “Schedule me for an early morning appointment if you can. I promise I'll be there.” She hopped off the bed and paused at the door. “You're not half bad yourself, Doctor,” she added with a kind smile. “I think you've surprised a lot of people.” With that she was gone, leaving him to grin with unabashed pleasure at the completely unexpected compliment. Coming from her, it meant a lot.

 

He didn't like to cut Miles' time short with Keiko, yet she still needed rest. He gently extracted the chief from his visit with the promise that he would call him if there was any change at all in her condition. She seemed to be in better spirits, or she was better at hiding her sadness when her husband's feelings were at stake. Julian couldn't read her well enough to tell. With her his only patient, he was able to catch up on a lot of administrative work that had fallen by the wayside since the Jem'Hadar attack. It felt good to have so many things almost back to normal.