"There, you should be feeling much better now." Morou placed Julian's hand back on his chest, then turned to tuck the tricorder in the emergency medical kit she had brought with her.

She had actually been assembling it specifically for him when the monitor's alarm went off. Her own 'pregnant male emergency kit' is how she thought of it and had never been more glad to have one on hand. Well, there had been other times, but best not to think of them now.

"It's all right, Julian, every thing is going to be all right," she soothed.

"How?" The world had slowly come back into focus for him and now he wished it hadn't. "How can it be all right, when my friends are out there tearing strips off each other?"

"That's their problem," she replied calmly. "Our concern is getting you to relax, getting your blood pressure to fall and having everything nicely in balance again. That's all you have to be concerned about. Now, breathe in, breathe out."

Julian did as he was told, glad he had the Vulcan training he had mastered so that he could control and reset his internal chemistry. He'd been relying on it rather heavily lately.

He's good, thought Morou, realizing, as the Trill doctor had not, that Julian had mastered the regulation of his body rhythms.

"I'm sorry," she said, when he had calmed down enough for natural color to return to his cheeks, "about earlier. I shouldn't have relieved you from your duties that way. I was...I was just so angry." She swallowed, struggling to keep her voice neutral. She didn't want to upset him. "They must not expect you to do such work in the future. They have carelessly exposed you to a danger that a nurse could have, should have handled."

"I'm the doctor."

"You, young man, are pregnant. And a male. It makes a difference."

"Well...yes." Julian eyed his replacement carefully. A human woman about his father's age, her dark hair was held firmly in a regulation tight bun. Her uniform was neat as a pin, her comm badge set just so. The double helix of a duo-marriage adorned the ring on her wedding finger; she turned it now as she watched him with worried dark eyes.

"Doctor Bashir, I was chosen to be the interim doctor at DS9 because of my personal experience with male pregnancy. It was my younger husband, Lance." Her eyes brightened a little at the name, then shrouded again sternly. "He carried his sister's child to term. I love both my husbands, Doctor Bashir. But I tell you now, if he ever so much as threatens to put me through that again, I will divorce him."

She paused to calm herself, wondering if she should wait for a better time. But Bashir would worry if she left off now, she could see it in his eyes. "I didn't approve of his actions then, I don't approve of your actions now. I think you both needlessly endangered your lives. But he did survive his pregnancy and I have hopes you will, too. Lance will be arriving shortly on the station. I'm sure you and he will have much to talk about."

How overbearing I am, for one, she thought with a smile, but kept that to herself.

"Now, I want you to stand up slowly and accompany me into the bedroom. You are going to have a half-hour nap, then you and I, and five cc's of Cantapnerole, are going to discuss you working supervised at the infirmary. I need to discus your family life and support groups, too. This will be the perfect opportunity."

"You'll let me work?" The young man latched on to the more important part of her statement as she helped him ease into a sitting position.

"We'll see," she said, helping him to his feet. "We'll see."

Morou delivered the relaxant by hypo spray then waited to inspect its results. When she was convinced it had taken hold she cautiously began to question the doctor about his private life. She had settled on the drug Cantapnerole for her task, it both relaxed and prompted truthfulness. There were questions she had to ask and as Julian's doctor she needed to know the correct answers.

The patient had already charmed his nursing crew into keeping his medical details to themselves. She knew this because she'd tried asking them as soon as she'd sent Doctor Bashir home earlier that day. Needing background on his case she had also tried to access the data files, but there had been a strong encryption over it that she couldn't break. She would need him to open them for her, as well as the other Starfleet personnel files. A key to his extraordinary filing system would help, too.

"I'm going to ask you some questions, Julian, and I want you to answer without thinking about it too much. Can you do that?"

"Mmm, I can do anything," Bashir replied dreamily. Idean was suddenly very glad she had decided to conduct this at the infirmary. The smoldering look he had just given her was enough to temp a twice-married woman, be she old enough to be his mother or not! Good grief. Feeling her cheeks flush Morou hurried to distract herself from the station CMO's overly relaxed self.

"Doctor Bashir, do you have any blood relatives on DS9?"

"No. Not a one. Isn't it marvelous?" His grin was wicked.

"Ah, I... So, are your parents still living? Do they know about the baby?"

"Oh, yes. Mother is pleased as can be. I'm going to be the daughter she never had. Father is too busy to talk about it. Doing something very hush-hush for the government, don't you know. Catering, probably. Or delivering messages. Terribly important. Far more important than me." The smile was gone and there was a note of petulance in the young doctor's voice.

"I see. No siblings, then?"

"No. I'm their masterwork. Couldn't afford two of me." The edge of bitterness had increased, and Morou wondered what it was that had made this friendly young man dislike his parents so. But that was not why they were here.

"The baby's parents are friends of yours. You're staying with them?" She waited for him to nod. "How is that going? Any difficulties?"

"No, no. The O'Briens are a marvelous couple. They've made a huge effort to fit me in. They wait on me hand and foot, it's quite embarrassing, really. Miles, especially, though Keiko gets quite clucky as well. I couldn't be in better hands."

"And they know of all the procedures that have been done and what will need to be done in the future?"

Julian frowned at this and seemed almost to be fighting the drug. She reached out and soothed his shoulders, distracting him from his evasion, allowing her at the truth. She gently re-asked the question.

"They really don't need to know all that. I know what's going on, there's no need to burden them with it. They have had enough to work on, what with the Bajorans and having to send Molly back to Earth."

"The Bajorans?"

Julian gave her a report on the situation, though due to his medicated state, he didn't make a lot of sense in some places. She would have to talk to the authorities, Security and the Bajoran liaison, Major Nerys. Idean began to feel she really should have been better informed about her assignment here. This was an incredibly intricate situation, she would have liked the opportunity to prepare for it. Having a child was stressful on anybody; having one under these conditions was unthinkable! Things had to be done to reduce the stress.

"Do you have a lot of friends here, on DS9?" Her voice held just a hint of desperation.

"Oh, yes, plenty. Most of the command crew; Dax, Worf, Kira, Odo, the O'Briens. Then there's Quark, Rom, Leeta, Nog, Jake - Morn. And Garak. Garak was here just a little while ago, wasn't he? He was quite upset about something...."

Morou quickly interrupted him, looking for a different topic. "Do you have any lovers on the station?"

"Mmm, scads. Leeta was for a while, but she broke it off and fell in love with Rom instead. I've always liked Dax, but she likes our strategic operations officer, Worf. I'd almost convinced her to see things my way, too, when he came along." Julian pouted again, just a little, making Morou smile.

"And there's Garak. We're not lovers, either, you understand. He likes me, but he won't let me get too close. The last time we nearly did, he backed off a mile and I hardly saw him for ages."

The background and possible motivation for the scene Idean had witnessed at the O'Briens was becoming clear. Julian was reminded of the incident, too; she could see a line forming on his otherwise smooth brow. Time for another diversionary question.

"What hobbies do you have, Julian? What do you like to do in your spare time?"

"Well, there's the holo decks, Miles and I enjoy war gaming there, plus I like darts, tennis, racquetball and reading. Mainly spy and mystery novels, when I can fit them in between medical and science journals, of course. I like to do a bit of a workout at the gym, every now and then. And there's quite a bit of correlation and data quantifying that I do on varied patients. We're on the cutting edge of science on DS9, you know. New species come through the wormhole all the time. You're going to love it here." He smiled up at her happily before continuing.

"I'm working with Dax at the moment on ice bacteria in the Wanderers delta asteroid trail. We're trying to see if they can be brought back from the brink of extinction by introducing Ridgilian salt enzymes into their diet. Jadzia thinks that will help them cope with the increase in neutrinos caused by the wormholes...."

"Julian, calm. Stay calm. Deep breath. That's it. I'm sure the salt thing is a very exciting discovery, but you have to remain calm just a little longer. I'm glad you enjoy your work so much. It's a large part of your life, isn't it? I can see you need it." She frowned. No getting around it, if she wanted to keep the doctor anything like sane she was going to have to allow him back to work. "If I agree to let you come back to the infirmary, do you promise to stay away from dangerous patients?"

"Of course I do!" He sat up, eager to show his willingness. The answer was a little too fast for her liking, but Morou decided to go with it for now and pin a responsible promise from him later.

"Well, we'll see how you are feeling tomorrow and take it from there." She patted his hand encouragingly.

"Thank you." Warm hazel eyes looked up at her gratefully. Gods, how old was he? She really needed to get into his files.

"Now, Doctor, I just have a little clerical errand I want you to do for me, then I think it might be time for a nap."

He smiled wryly as she pulled him up, then led him over to a console. He'd had complaints about his filing system before. This wasn't going to be the fast job Doctor Morou had hoped for!

Doctor Morou looked around the sparse but elegantly furnished ready room of Deep Space Nine's command team. The friends of Julian Bashir were gathered before her, or rather, the ones she had contacted. The ex-girlfriend Leeta and her boyfriend Rom would have to wait until she was certain of their tolerance. The two adolescents, Jake and Nog, were also not there. Morn was on a trading run, Worf, Odo and Captain Sisko were likewise on a mission.

That left the O'Briens, Major Kira, Jadzia Dax, Garak and Quark. She was still debating the advisability of the Ferengi, and even more so of the Cardassian, but there was little choice. As he had said, most of Julian's friends were command staff and they had precious little time to spare one stranded pregnant man in the middle of a war zone. That made every contact more vital.

For even the medical personnel would not be able to look after him properly, not his every day physical and mental needs. While doctors were scheduled in regularly for the ongoing operations Bashir needed the station's regular doctors were not without time constraints. And the orderlies were more triage than actual nursing staff. People came here, received emergency medical treatment then returned home for ongoing care. This was doubly so now that the war was on. They just weren't set up for long term patient care.

The people in this room were going to have to look after Julian as the pregnancy advanced. Thanks to her little talk with the heavily medicated doctor she had found out that he had kept the more dramatic details of his condition to himself. Time for that to end. While it had been a noble sentiment, as she had informed him while escorting him home, it was simply not practical. They had to know what was coming. He had reluctantly agreed.

"Chief O'Brien," she began, looking to the worried individual seated at her right. "Could you tell me what you know of Julian's medical condition?"

The man stood, standing at attention, hands behind his back as if about to give a report on plasma flows. He had yet to see Bashir since the trauma that morning and looked flustered and uncomfortable.

"Julian believes he will go full term with the pregnancy, but will spend some time resting in bed towards the end. I know the hormone treatment he's on makes him sick and some of his internal scar tissue didn't stretch the last time he had an operation. He had a problem with loosening tendons a while back, but that's under control now, I think. Doctor," his eyes turned to plead with her, "what happened this morning? What hasn't Julian been telling us?"

Morou pursed her lips, thinking. O'Brien had actually shown more awareness than she had anticipated and she was grateful for it. Maybe things weren't as badly off as she had feared.

She looked around the room at the semi-circle of concerned faces. "Does any one here know differently from the chief?" They all shook their heads. Julian had told his version of events skillfully, no one had questioned it. "Very well. Julian Bashir will carry the O'Briens' child full term. If he doesn't, he will die."

"That's ridiculous!" The chief sounded angry, but Morou knew fear when she saw it. The man had obviously suspected something.

"The doctors said the placenta could come adrift at any time," Keiko added, reaching to hold her husband's hand. "You're saying if it does, he will die? But they wouldn't have risked Julian's life that way. Starfleet wouldn't allow it."

"The placenta may have come adrift easily at one time, but not any longer," Morou corrected her. "Doctor Bashir instructed the specialists to go ahead with a procedure called insurgency. It strengthened the placenta's fragile connection, while binding his fate to that of the fetus."

"But, why?" Chief O'Brien asked for all of them.

"Because the only alternative was transfer to an artificial womb, which had a three percent chance of success, or leaving things as they were. With an unprepared-for ectopic pregnancy, there was barely an eighteen percent chance of success."

"And now?"

Morou debated answering truthfully, Bashir had had his reasons for not revealing this to his friends, after all. Grimly, she decided to go ahead.

"Insurgency creates a fifty-nine percent chance of survival of both child and surrogate."

"Holy Mother of God." Miles collapsed back into his seat. Every face in the room mirrored his shock.

"But everything will be okay," Jadzia Dax spoke up uncertainly. "I mean, Julian is a healthy young man, the baby is doing well." She spread her fingers in appeal. "What could go wrong?"

"Rather a lot, I am afraid. When a man decides to carry a baby, several things are done. He prepares by taking gradually increasing levels of hormones, he undertakes emotional counselling and he undergoes surgery to have a functioning womb inserted.

"Julian had none of these preparations. He received a huge hormone dump cold and there has been no hint of his body adjusting to it. The surgery he should have had to prepare a uterus can not be made up for. The specialist could barely construct a series of stabilizing spars, not even a rudimentary womb. It is the lack of a womb that is and will cause the biggest problems for Julian's health.

"To support the fetus, blood supplies had to be diverted from elsewhere in his body, and that has caused problems with circulation and blood pressure. The loop of intestine the placenta is attached to is experiencing problems with digestion, there is risk of infections, weight loss and decreased resistance to disease.

"He is emotionally unprepared and that will directly effect his blood pressure. He has become very susceptible to emotionally induced shock. Shock will eventually be able to kill him, as the stress on his body increases. With all of this and being realistic, we are lucky to have even a fifty-nine percent chance of joint survival."

"I don't like those odds," muttered the Ferengi. Morou agreed with him.

The Cardassian spoke up at last. "Is it still possible for the fetus to be... aborted?" The others were careful not to look at him as he asked what had to be on all their minds.

"No, I'm afraid not. Should the placenta come away now he would bleed to death in seconds. We have no choice but to proceed." She looked around at the worried faces. "What happens next will be determined to a greater degree by everyone here today. You are his friends and he has never needed you more." She took a deep breath and wished her younger husband were here to give this speech. She was not a psychologist and had never been terribly good at giving pep talks.

"The longer the pregnancy goes on, the worse emotionally this will become. Julian's body will be under greater and greater stress, his emotions will swing out of control. He will feel isolated and alone. Don't let that be the case. Be there for him, even if it means just holding his hand, or waiting out a round of vomiting with him."

"Disgusting," muttered Quark and Kira hit him on the arm. "Well, it is!" the Ferengi whined, rubbing his arm indignantly, Kira glaring all the while. Purposely turning his back on the Bajoran, he asked Morou the question she had been waiting to hear. "What specifically can we do to help him?"

"Quite a lot, actually. Firstly, please read these notes. They outline some of his physical limitations, now and in the months ahead. I drew these up for my husband's pregnancy; Doctor Bashir will have more restrictions and the need to avoid emotional stress will be much higher."

"Just how susceptible is he?" Miles looked worried. "Should he be receiving a…a sedative, or something?"

"No." Morou blew out a breath slowly, then pursed her lips. It was a thinking habit of hers that drove her eldest husband Conner nuts. He said it made her look about six. "The incident this morning was the result of a combination of things that built up. First, Julian was assaulted and passed out after being attacked by a drunken Klingon. I foolishly relieved him of his job. Then his dearest friends began tearing strips off each other right in front of him. He can handle any one of those encounters individually, but not all three together. And if it had happened in the last weeks of his pregnancy, he may not have survived it.

"This is deadly serious, people. We can not afford to have this sort of thing happen again. I admit, I played my part in today's drama and I apologize for it. But we need to keep a closer eye on the doctor's emotional state. We cannot go back, so that leaves one option. Forwards. He will do this, he can do this, and we shall support him. That won't be easy. Julian Bashir is an active young man, one used to pushing his limits. He is going to have to redefine those limits."

"You mean not working so hard like he has been?" Miles got up the courage to ask. "I've been against him going back to work from the start."

"Oh, Miles!" Keiko poked his arm. "Julian would be lost without his work! You would be, if it were you."

"I'll handle restrictions at work, as much as I can. But I was thinking more along the lines of his leisure time. Specifically, Baby O'Brien will be entering the universe through Julian's abdomen, and at the moment that would prove a strenuous task. The surgeons have already encountered difficulties. His abdominal muscles are too tight. The child is having to fight against them for room to grow. I shall be banning him from several sports activities and devising a gentler exercise routine, but he will need encouragement to stick to it."

There were several wry looks around the room. They could see problems there, all right.

"Remember, when he's being irritable and difficult, it may seem hard to keep your head, but it will be twice as hard for him. Be patient with him." She glanced down at her time chronometer, and frowned. "I am due for surgery, soon. Please read the notes and ask me as many questions afterwards as you wish to. I look forwards to talking again with all of you."

Miles walked into the front room of his home. He'd known his friend was holding back on them and he understood, in a way, why he had chosen to do it. But it hurt anyway, to hear about it now. A part of him felt betrayed. And another part was glad he hadn't been told. That part would be happy to still not know the truth. It was a terrible thing to realize about yourself, to see how selfish you could be. The room's other occupant looked up, then back down to what he was doing.

"So, you're back, then. What did she have to say?" Julian sat at the table, a game of solitaire laid out before him, flicking cards back and forth between his fingers.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Miles asked in a pained voice.

Because I didn't want to hurt you? Julian thought, knowing from the look on Miles' face that Morou had told all. Damn it. He hadn't wanted them to know. He certainly didn't want to upset his friends, they had enough to cope with, with Keiko's loss. Not that O'Brien would accept that as an answer. 'I care about you' isn't really your speed, is it, Miles? Julian smiled ruthfully to himself.

"What's done is done," he replied mildly instead, laying out another card. His next move was stopped when the chief suddenly swung his chair about and grabbed him around the head in a fierce hug.

"It's going to be all right," Julian reassured his friend's belt buckle. Miles let go a little and looked down into his face.

"A fifty-nine percent survival rate, Julian - that is not all right."

"It's better than a three percent one."

"I won't argue with you." Miles trailed a hand over to hover next to his friend's face, then lightly stroked it with the back of his fingers. Comforted somewhat by the solid feel of him, compared to his fly away fragile look, Miles continued, "I just wished we'd talked, before you agreed to go through with this. What with all the medication they had you pumped with, I doubt...."

"Miles, I would have done it, anyway. And they did make sure of my cognizance before getting my agreement to the operation." Julian pulled back to look in his friend's eyes. "How could I have asked you to decide your son's fate? You had Keiko to worry about. What is, is, Miles. Things will be better, you'll see."

Miles stayed still for awhile, then gently leaned over and kissed the top of Julian's head. "Okay, then. If you say so. Tell me about the accident." The request came out of the blue, surprising Julian into answering. He hesitated a while, letting the images of those terrible few hours come back to him.

"I remember the pain. And smoke. The air recycling couldn't keep up. And the smell of vomit. Poor Kira, she looked so green, Miles. I almost made her stop and performed the job myself, but it would have been too difficult." He remembered Lynwittica's horrified response to his being awake during the procedure.

The Trill had gone over the Hippocratic oath with him, reminding the young doctor that he'd sworn to do no harm, and that included to himself! Pompous bastard. As if Julian didn't know the oath backwards, what with his job on Deep Space Nine. He'd had to go over the logs with the Trill and point out that they'd only had enough merfadon for one patient and with her other injuries, Keiko was the obvious one to use it on.

"I sedated Keiko almost immediately after the accident. She was in a bad way. The major secured the damage to the runabout, while I stabilized her condition as much as I could. Then I realized the danger to the baby; he was on the point of aborting himself. I had to act fast. I prepped Keiko as far as I could. Then Kira injected asinolyathin directly into my spinal cord, so I felt very little pain. She opened me up, doing as I directed like a pro, I might add. Years of field medicine, I suspect, though she wouldn't admit it. Then it was time for the transfer. Kira promised to do some pretty awful things to me, if I didn't pull through." He smiled in remembrance.

"I didn't start to black out until after the operation was over. Kira began sending out a distress call and trying to pilot the craft closer to home. I dictated some notes to my medical staff, then the blackness just closed in. All the excitement, I suppose."

The 'excitement' had been the painkiller wearing off and himself being forced to avoid shock by going into a light trance. He'd learned how to trance ages ago. It didn't mitigate the pain, but made it somehow separate from himself. A very good trick to learn, if you could.

"You know the rest." He leaned back into his friend, enjoying the closeness.

Miles rubbed circles on his shoulders for a while, thinking the story over. "Thank you." he eventually said, tightening his grip into a possessive hug, before relaxing again. "Keiko will be home soon, so I guess I'll see to dinner."

He released Julian and began to prepare the bean shoots and squid stirfry he'd planned for their meal. His movements were slow and deliberate and Julian guessed there was a lot of thinking going on. It worried him.

Soon Keiko returned and silently began to help her husband. At one point her activities took her past the lounge and she reached over and squeezed Julian's shoulder reassuringly. The doctor was surprised at how much the simple gesture calmed him.

Ever since the accident Julian had been waiting for everyone to find out what he'd told them were half-lies. He had expected that some painful fallout would be heading his way when eventually they did. He appeared to have underestimated his friends. They had forgiven him without a qualm.

The O'Briens didn't start to mollycoddle him or begin treating him any differently, either, and for that he was glad. The meal that night tasted particularly good to Julian.

Jander Lin sat in the corner of her little shop, dreaming of a time in her younger days when she would climb the mountain behind her village and steal feathers from the giant eagles that nested there. Oh, but nobody would believe her now, tired old Jander Lin, climbing mountains? Ridiculous!

The chime at her door sounded and two Bajoran women entered.

"Good day, store keep," greeted the older one. There was something in her eyes, something disturbing. "You have been chosen as a recipient of a free apprentice. Bajor has started a new initiative, an apprenticeship course, free of charge, to help our people regain some of the skills lost during the occupation. This is Ton Lind, she will start tomorrow."

Jander Lin blinked. It was a bit late for that, wasn't it? The occupation had been over for years now... Resistance. The word crept into her sub-consciousness, something about the way these women stood, the look in their eyes.

"I'd love an apprentice," she smiled, surprising the other two with her fast response. Others had been far more reluctant.

At last, time for some action in my life! chuckled Jander Lin to herself. The Prophets were kind.