By Fire Frog

Daily life at DS9 went on. A Bajoran doctor who had been to the station before, on and off filling in for Bashir's few holidays and assisting Dr. Girani (the station's other doctor), came up from the planet to stand in for the downed CMO. She agreed to stay until Julian's Starfleet replacement could be brought in.

It had been several days before the operations to stabilize the baby were complete. And several weeks after that before Lynwittica felt secure enough to hand the doctor over to his nursing staff and return to the Excelsior. He piled them up with strict instructions and gave Julian a full hour-and-a-half lecture by himself as well.

The Trill had been amazed at Bashir's recovery, which should have taken several weeks more at least; the human had a truly remarkable metabolism. Julian smiled when he mentioned it and said he tried not to get sick, as everybody knows doctors make the worst patients.

Miles was the first person allowed to visit him, every one having previously been stonewalled by the implacable Lynwittica. With the Trill gone, the nurses cautiously drew up a visiting roster.

Keiko had been discharged from her surgery and allowed home after that first day. She was seeing the station's councilor Telnorri and had decided to let her husband see Julian first, as Miles was about to burst. The chief was desperate to see his friend and to reassure himself of Julian's condition.

On the day of the visit Miles entered the tiny hospital room and quietly went over to stand besides the bed. His friend lay, arms attached to drips, monitors plastered seemingly randomly about his body. Miles drew in a gasp of sympathy, alerting the patient to his guest. Julian opened his eyes and blinked tiredly at him. He did everything tiredly these days, it seemed.

"You look ruddy awful," the Irishman blurted out, immediately wishing he could take the words back as Julian gave him a look.

"Why, thank you, Miles. I've had days of major surgery, my intestines have been spliced, two blood vessels have been diverted and something the size of a softball has been sewn into my gut. I'd hate to think it didn't show."

"Don't be like that." Miles frowned and looked down at his toes. Damn the man, anyway. "Yer know what I mean. Are you okay? Besides from what you just mentioned, of course." He congratulated himself on neatly sidestepping the verbal trap he might have put his foot in. Julian just rolled his eyes and shook his head in exasperation.

"I'm going to be fine," he reassured his friend. "We both are." He rested a hand on his stomach. The bulge there was barely discernable, but Miles mapped it with his eyes.

"Are you sure?" It looked okay. Julian looked okay, sort of tired like, but okay nevertheless. And Miles was sure he'd look peakier if he'd heard what....

Am I sure? Julian gave the man a sharp look. There was more to the question than mere O'Brien stubbornness to let go of a line of enquiry. Julian had thought his friend looked uncomfortable when he first saw him, as if he had something to hide. And while most visitors to someone in the infirmary did look uncomfortable, there was more to it this time. He could see it in the chief's rigid stance and the near imploring tone of his voice. Had one of his staff talked? He'd told them not to, blast it.

"No, really, I am sure. I'm fine." He forced himself to sit up a little and look more chipper.

"Because, yer know, I'm really very fond of you," Miles continued. "Really. And I, Keiko and me, we wouldn't want you doing anything that might, well...you know..." He hadn't heard yet. But when he did....

"Oh, go away, Miles. I'm having this baby and there's nothing you can do about it." Julian made a show of rolling his eyes again, watching as guilty relief stole across the chief's face. Inside, Julian winced at his own words. It was now far too late to back out of his decision anyway, even if he wanted to.

"You're a little shit some times, Julian. But I love yer for it regardless." Miles reached over and gently knuckled his hair. Julian pulled a face, but couldn't fend off the noogie, his arms were still attached to drips.

"Ugh, I hate that habit. Blasted Sisko and his baseball."

"Just saying thank you." Miles grinned.

"Well, you're welcome. Glad to be of service. How is Keiko? Is she doing okay?" Julian looked troubled. He'd been worrying about Keiko.

"Um, better. She misses the baby. Councilor Telnorri thinks she will be able to handle the separation fairly well." Miles sounded worried, too.

"I'll talk to him, if you like. Make sure she's doing okay. And I'd like to see you both and explain the technicalities of the pregnancy as well, if you can find the time. That should help ease her mind some more."

"Yeah, it would. You're really okay with this, Julian?" Anxious green eyes scanned hazel ones for any sign of holding back, unaware of how deceptive those guileless eyes could be.

"Yes, really. But I am getting a little tired, so off you go and see Keiko and tell her I'm fine and that the baby is doing well." Julian made a shooing motion with one hand.

Miles nodded, then reached down and kissed Julian's forehead, startling the younger man. "Ye'll never know what this means to us, Julian. Sleep now. Keiko and I will come by when we're allowed."

He turned and left and Julian watched him go in bemusement. Well, that went better than I had hoped, he thought. With a sigh, he settled back to rest.

Julian's release from the infirmary had brought all his friends from out of the woodwork. The O'Briens, Jadzia, Nerys and Morn all turned up to walk him back to his rooms. Although he assured them he was perfectly fine they made up a protective cordon about him, as if to forestall his being jostled by any of the passersby.

They glanced furtively about as they went, but Julian was too happy to be on his feet again to pay their behavior much mind.

"The birth will go ahead as scheduled in seven months' time," he explained to Jadzia, who had linked arms with him, the better to control their speed, Julian suspected. Miles had already been doing something similar when he paced around his infirmary room.

"I'll probably have to stop work a month or two before then. And I foresee an unavoidable one week period of bed rest just prior to the birth." Well, more like two weeks, actually, but no need to talk it up just yet. Julian smiled, wondering if he could manage to work up until then on light duties.

"Will you be returning to Earth for the birth?" Kira's voice was unusually high when she asked this and the others stopped and look anxiously at him for his reply.

"No, I'm afraid not. My doctors have deemed it too dangerous to travel; even using a transport beam is out. Which reminds me." He turned to look back a bit at Miles, who was vanguard on their little precession. "Miles, I need you to adjust my comm badge, so I don't get accidentally beamed up in any station-wide crisis. I'll have to get to medical emergencies the old fashioned way for a while, too, and run!" He grinned, but the others didn't grin back. Jadzia tightened her grip on his arm and renewed the trek to his quarters.

"Are you sure that's wise, Julian? Won't physical activity be bad for the baby?"

"Not at all, not after a few weeks. I would hardly try sprinting down the promenade right now, however." He tsked reprovingly, and they smiled worriedly back at him.

"So," he continued, wondering why they were all acting so upset with him, "anything been happening on the station? Anything I should know about?"

There was an uncomfortable silence, then Morn started a tale about the latest Merchant Union bidding war and Jadzia reported the unexpected call they'd had from the neutral zone. Sisko felt it may have come from Eddington's successor. Everyone fell to gossiping, regaling him with the station doings until they eventually reached his quarters.

He signaled the door with relief and bid them all goodnight, assuring his friends that he was fine and would like to spend some time alone, after the invasiveness of the infirmary. Reluctantly, they left him in peace.

Home sweet home. He just stood inside the doorway and let the familiarity of his quarters soothe him. Sighing, he moved towards the couch, undoing the fasteners on his tunic as he went. Almost there he stopped and groaned.

Damn it, his pants were just a little too tight for comfort, he needed to arrange for some with more give. Well, no time like the present. Turning around, he headed back out, nearly running over Kira Nerys, who was standing just outside his door.

"Can I help you? Is there something wrong?" He reached out to steady them both by gripping her elbow.

"No!" She shrugged him off, them looked mortified for yelling at him. "I mean...yes. Can I come in?"

Surprised, Julian stepped back and motioned her in.

She moved to the couch, perching stiffly on the soft cushions. Julian sat next to her, his fingers moving to the waistband of his pants.

"I hope you don't mind, but these are too tight. I was on my way to order new ones just now, but that can wait." He undid the pants fastener and let them peel open a little, reducing the chaffing on his scars. He tugged his tunic down for modesty's sake, all the while Kira stared at his lap in fascination, causing the young doctor to squirm and color a little.

With some reluctance Kira forced her eyes away from the slight swell of Bashir's tummy and looked instead into his eyes. Life is growing inside him. She didn't know why that thought disturbed her so much, but it did. I helped put it there. I'm responsible.

In a pained voice she began to explain to Julian about the awkward development that had arisen while he had been safely contained in the infirmary. It had been thought prudent to keep this knowledge from him, but now that he was at large once more (Julian was feeling more like a criminal by the minute), he had to be told the truth.

Bajor was having an adverse reaction to the news of this pregnancy. Many Bajorans felt it was an abomination. This was especially true of the men, but many women felt that way as well. Debate was growing, though aside from a break in at the infirmary on the first day, no overt hostility had been indicated on the station.

"But there have been pregnant men on DS9 before," Julian stated reasonably. This reaction by the Bajorans bewildered him. Why were they so concerned?

"Not pregnant 'Saints of the Refugee Camps,' there haven't," Kira replied grimily. "Julian, you mean something to the Bajoran people. Visitors through the station don't have any impact, they're aliens and they have their odd little alien ways. You're one of us, an adopted son. People care about what happens to you and the things that you do." She ran a hand back through her hair, wondering why Julian looked so stunned all of a sudden. Surely he knew all of this.

"You've talked to the Prophets, stood up for the children of Bajor, the Cardassian war orphans, helped victims of the epidemics. People respect you for that. This, this is totally out of our range of understanding. No Bajoran man has borne a child before. It's...disturbing."

She stood up and paced the room, then as suddenly forced herself to sit quietly back down. Julian's eyes were huge, he understandably looked very worried.

"Has there been anything said to Keiko and Miles?"

"There has been some comments made," Kira agreed cautiously. "But nothing the chief can't handle. They aren't really the issue, anyway. You are.

The people care about you and some feel betrayed by your choice. When word of this first got out, there was a huge outcry. Cities on Bajor rang with it. The commotion has died down, but not as much as Odo and I had hoped it would. We've had Security keeping a discreet eye on things and nobody seems to intend to do anything about it but debate. Still, I'd like your consent to place a security alarm on your comm badge."

"They wouldn't really hurt me, would they?" He pulled thoughtfully at his lower lip, less distressed than Kira knew he should be. Typical Julian, always underestimating danger at every turn.

"Accidents can happen - especially when people get all riled up. And trust me, they are riled up!" Kira tried to convey her sense of urgency, but she could see he wasn't getting it.

"Yes, I understand," he said mildly. "I, um, won't be confined to quarters, will I?" Julian was thinking about his hoped-for swift return to duty.

"We'd prefer it if you stayed in them, but no. The O'Briens would be happy to keep you company and Odo or myself will try to be there for when you go to and from work." We will be there, there is no doubt. Sighing internally with frustration, Kira gave up her warnings as a lost cause, deciding to try and reassure the doctor instead. That should ring his warning bells.

"This shouldn't last, Julian. People will eventually get over it and go back to their lives. It's been three weeks now and there have been no incidents. We're just being cautious."

"I see. Major, I understand why I haven't been told of this until now, but can you keep me informed? Despite whatever Lynwittica has told you, I could probably have handled this news sooner. I'm really not that unwell." His mild reproof caused the tough second in command to squirm uncomfortably.

Nerys laced her fingers together and looked at her boots. "The truth is, I'm embarrassed by it," she admitted. "After all the commotion we've made about not having the Federation interfere with our lives, here we are interfering with yours. My people are acting like children!"

Besides her, Julian shifted a little on the couch, the movement accidentally lifting his tunic, revealing a glimpse of his belly skin. Her annoyance derailed and she fought to keep from reaching over and touching him.

"It's a shame," Kira said, to distract herself, "that your Cardassian friend Garak isn't here. He would have had a whole new wardrobe waiting for you." She indicated the disarrayed clothing. Julian twitched the fabric into a more modest line again.

He smiled and nodded at her words, although secretly he was glad the tailor was off-station. He had a feeling the Cardassian wasn't going to approve of things. "By now I imagine he'd have talked me into some hellishly expensive maternity outfit. Something made from Diargo silk, 'to help the baby breathe.' I'm sure that man has a bit of Ferengi in him somewhere."

"Perhaps Ensign Gere can spare you some pants." Kira sprang to her feet and headed for the door. "I'll go and find out." She was gone before the surprised doctor could say another word.

Now what's got into her? I didn't say anything wrong, did I? Wearily the young doctor struggled up and stared after the departed red head. When she didn't reappear, he made his way to the bedroom.

He carefully arranged the few necessary items Nurse Tagana had dropped off earlier for him on the side table. He placed the hypo sprays on the desk along with dry biscuits (the recipe for which he had from his grandmother), a paper cup and a jug of water. Several small monitors were attached about his person, the sticky pads producing an uncomfortable pulling sensation on his skin.

Not an ideal arrangement, he thought as he stripped from day clothes and pulled on the soft blue pajamas Garak had brought him last birthday. The monitors made it awkward to do up the pajama top, so he let it hang open.

Remaining at the infirmary would have been more convenient, but he was finding it difficult to relax there. And he needed his sleep.

He climbed in the bed and pulled out the personal PADD he had received from his mother that morning. He shouldn't have been so surprised to get a letter from home, Sisko must have contacted his family straight after the accident.

Mother wrote that she and Father were worried for his health and warned that pregnancy didn't always run smoothly for either of their families. To prove it, she included the medical records of three generations' worth of female relatives. She gently scolded him for placing himself in such a situation and for doing it now, when the war restricted travel so. She then went on for another ten pages, offering advice, stories, family law and useful strategies for the 'coming ordeal.'

What the letter said clearly, at least to Julian, was that his mother was actually terribly pleased with this turn of events. At last she could pass on all the wisdom she would normally have given to a daughter. He felt lucky several light years and a war separated them, or she would have moved in with him by now. What a ghastly thought. Eventually tiring of re-reading her letter he lay the PADD to one side, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

He was startled awake some time later by a gasp from his bedroom door. Kira stood there, with what looked like all the Defiant crew's uniform pants clutched in her arms.

"I didn't think you were coming back." Julian began to struggle up from his bed, but the major dumped her armload of clothing on the floor and rushed to push him back down.

"What is this?" She indicated the monitors and hypos, a tiny angry frown creasing her brow. "I thought you were okay to leave the infirmary."

"Oh, I am. This is just for morning sickness, a perfectly normal human phenomenon." She looked blankly at him and he blessed his luck. What the major didn't know about, he could elaborate on with impunity. "It's just our way of reacting to the excess hormones produced when we carry a child. A Bajoran sneezes through her pregnancy, humans barf through theirs." He smiled wryly at her grimace.

"I'm actually working to the family plan, according to my mother. All my female relatives get morning sickness at three in the morning. Somehow my body knows and I've been experiencing illness at around that time. Amazing, really."

"Julian," Kira interrupted, distracted by the sight of his open pajamas top, "this scaring doesn't look healed." She ran her hand over the spider web of discolorations that covered his stomach.

"Many of them need to remain soft for later procedures. It's all right, Nerys," he took her hand and held it, "you didn't cause this."

The Bajoran lifted her eyes from the mass of scar tissue, tears shimmering in their depths. "I didn't?"

There was something awfully childlike in her voice at that moment. Julian replaced her hand fully over his belly once more and held it there.

"No, Nerys. You saved us. You saved us both."

She moved through the market place, her back in agony, the heavy bucket of water chaffing her hands. She grit her teeth as another pushed her by, impatient to get past the slower-moving pregnant woman. Just another obstacle on the road, invisible to the scurrying people around her.

As she passed the house of justice she spied her husband, resplendent in the fine robes that she had washed just the day before.

How she hated him. How she envied his life. His easy life, with freedom to come and go as he pleased, talk to whom he pleased, to do whatever he pleased. While she, weighed down with his child, must clean and mend, fetch and carry! She could feel his eyes upon her from across the street, measuring her against the graceful forms of the younger girls who passed her by, unencumbered with the curse that was pregnancy.

Her back ached, her feet ached, her breasts were an agony as they swelled with milk, the brown nipples large, dark and overly sensitive to even the brush of her clothing. She stumbled abruptly over the uneven ground and the heavy bucket she carried swung to hit her shin painfully.

Ask, said a voice in her mind. Ask, and the burden need not be yours alone.

Her eyes filled with tears, the pain of her back, so burdened that it had changed shape, lanced upwards through her body.

"Husband...." Her sigh was a mere whisper of sound upon the wind. But by the time she had closed then opened her eyes, he was there. Reaching up, he tapped the end of her nose with a teasing finger.

"Woman," he smiled. "My prideful woman." Then he took the water bucket from her hand and began walking towards home. His walk was slow and dignified, as befit a man of his station. And if it happened to suit the gait of a woman well into pregnancy, what of it?

Following, she admired the graceful slim-hipped walk that had first drawn her to him. That and his eyes. There was something in their depths that drew her.... Caressing the swell of her belly, she walked after her man and dreamed of who their children would be.

Julian Bashir opened his eyes at the computer's first chime and blinked at the ceiling of his room. He had sent Major Kira home, napped and then wakened to the joys of morning sickness.

The room's light had seemed harsher than it should be when he called it up. A little unsteadily he had made his way to the fresher, his hands shaking as he grasped its bowl. After the heaving was over he rested his head on folded arms, before dragging himself back out to his bedroom.

The shaking of his hands made pouring the water hard, but he managed to fix himself a drink and to nibble cautiously on the dry biscuits. To his surprise they actually seemed to help. Feeling less nauseous he ran a tricorder over himself and checked the monitor readouts. They were fine, so he lay back in the bed and called off the lights.

In the infirmary, a nurse would have had the water waiting for him and a cool towel to wipe his brow, Julian mused. More than the practical help, though, he missed the reassurance of other people being there to hold his hand. So many things could go wrong. He had calculated that the chances of an emergency with the baby were as slim now as they were going to get. But still, he found himself feeling unexpectedly vulnerable. This was going to be a lot harder than he had originally thought. He closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.

His level of anxiety, however, failed to even out, so he ended up giving himself a hypo to combat his agitated state and end his wakefulness. The hypo, coupled with his mother's letter - the bit about the family tendency to have intense dreams during pregnancy - had undoubtedly led to his own vivid dream. It had all seemed so real, somehow. The desert sky, the town, the bucket of water in his/her hand....

The computer chimed again and Julian drew himself out of his bed. Time to go to work, Doctor, he thought to himself firmly. Idle fancies will have to come later.

He got up and headed for the shower. He never noticed the trail of sand upon his bedroom floor, the auto sweep had picked it up before he returned.