The door chimed.

Julian looked up from the novel he was reading, wondering who had come to call. He was sitting comfortably in his own living room; he still liked to spend a little time in his quarters, to give the O'Briens a bit of peace when he could. They had seemed particularly quiet this afternoon after their latest visit to Telnorri. It had been a joint one, too. Julian couldn't help but worry about them. Perhaps they had come to discus the outcome of the session with him?

The door chimed again.

"Come in, it's not locked."

The door slid open and a huge flower arrangement with just the holder's legs visible underneath entered the room.

"Are those for me?" Delighted Julian put down his book and got up to meet his guest.

"No, they are for Odo. I thought he might like to eat them." Garak put the arrangement, complete with its own beautifully colored glass vase, on the low center table and fussed with the flowers until they were just right. "Really, my dear, you ask the most inane questions. And I had hoped your security arrangements were better than this, after that incident the other day. I must have a word with the major."

Bashir blinked. Yes, this was Garak - the same Cardassian who had been screaming at him on their last meeting. His interview with Morou and Telnorri must have eventually won their approval, or the discreet guard on his door would not have let him in.

"Oh, I think you'll find she's got things under control," he murmured distractedly, marveling at his friend's change from near mauve belligerence to demure gray blue calm. Amazing. He'd never consciously noticed the Cardassian's color changes before.

Garak finished fussing with the flowers and looked up at his human companion. Looked, then looked again.

"What are you wearing?" he gasped, staring with horror at the trousers and loose tunic the doctor had on instead of his usual uniform. The outraged tailor pulled him under one of the ceiling lights to take in the full hideousness of the view.

Julian felt the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. It was true, the Starfleet regulation pregnancy uniform left much to be desired. Garak certainly didn't approve.

"No, no, this will never do at all. Come along, Doctor, we must make you something decent to wear at once. I have just the thing in mind. Come along." He began gently herding Julian out the door. Bashir sighed and hit his comm badge, informing Security of his movements. Garak, who was watching, didn't even see the guards that followed their every move as they made their way through the habitat ring, then across the promenade and into his shop. His dark eyes narrowed in suspicion at one point, but the full security layout eluded him. Just what was Kira up to?

Once inside he reinstated the 'closed to business' sign and zeroed in on his latest challenge, to make Julian Bashir as lovely on the outside as he was on the inside. Luckily, this wouldn't prove too difficult. He had often remarked on Julian's manly charms, usually as a lead up to some fancy verbal sparing between the two of them, but he had meant every word. He found the slender human captivating.

"Have you ever considered Rhapsody silk?" Garak placed out the first marker in the war of wills that was about to commence, and pulled a bolt of fine silk from its wall holder. "It drapes well, and the coloring is, as I'm sure you will agree, very becoming to you."

"Mmm, how much does it cost?" Julian asked, eyeing the dark swirls of color that shimmered over a midnight background.

"Oh, I'm sure we can come to some arrangement, Doctor," Garak crooned with a smirk.

Julian smiled back at him. He used to get very flustered when Garak flirted with him like this. Now he knew it was just the tailor's way of appearing harmless, and of keeping Julian off guard. When Garak really flirted with someone, he used an entirely more subtle approach.

Thinking of Garak's many odd moods the corners of the doctor's mouth abruptly dipped. Garak claimed to like him, but what he had said the other day had been venomous.

Since the confrontation Julian had tried not to think about it; after all, it hurt in so many ways. Plus the stress the entire incident had put him under had to be avoided, Morou would not approve of a repeat performance.

The whole thing had effected Miles and Keiko as well, spoiling at least part of their enjoyment of this pregnancy, what little they could gain from keeping him close. He wasn't sure he could forgive that. He wasn't sure that he should.

Garak stood and watched the play of emotions on his friend's face. Such an open, honest face. Or so he believed.

"You can't forgive me, can you?" he whispered, knotting the twist of material in his hands into an ugly lump. He looked at the crumpled silk, then gently smoothed it back out, at a loss as to how to begin his apology. "I did the unpardonable, and now...."

"I'm here now, aren't I?" Julian snapped crossly, comprehending with shock that he was indeed going to forgive the tailor. One look at the man's repentant face confirmed it. Incredible. How had this happened? He surely hadn't fallen that much under the man's spell already?

He reached to touch a corner of the Rhapsody silk, trying to distract himself from the questions that began turning in his mind. He had purposely not thought about the incident at the O'Briens' home, but now that the subject had come up he felt it was time for Garak to do some explaining.

"Why, Garak? Why were you so hostile the other day? There must have been a reason for it, but you know, for the life of me, I can't think what it could be."

"My dear, should we be having this conversation?" Garak cut in nervously. "Doctor Morou seemed quite worried that...."

"You're not going to hide behind what she wants. Tell me. I'll decide for myself if it gets to much for my fragile state!" Hazel eyes flashed with annoyance. The tailor wisely hastened to do his bidding.

"Very well." Garak ran his hand over his hair, trying to decide where in this mess of his own making to begin. "I... Do you see yourself... Would you rather be a woman, Julian?"

"What?!" Julian frowned in disbelief, equally shocked by the question and the sudden use of his first name. "What an absurd question. If I wanted to be female, I would be. Nothing is stopping me from doing so, if that is what I wished. I, however, don't wish. I feel exceedingly male, thank you very much, and I don't know what to make of that sort of inquiry!"

"Neither do I, Doctor, but as soon as I heard of your condition - there it was. And I…I grew jealous. If you wanted to explore that side of yourself, I would have hoped... But you didn't come to me. You went to them." The keenly-felt resentfulness poured off that last word.

"You must understand, the story I heard at my arrival was quite skewed by the time it got to me. I was told this crazy tale of their child being placed inside you by some twisted experimental technology that hadn't even been tested properly, that it had nearly cost you your life and I.... I can't explain, what followed was out of my conscious control, fueled by jealousy. I thought you had taken the baby in from choice, not because you had to."

Garak remembered back, feeling again the wash of emotions that had gripped him then. Surely Julian would have come to him first, surly they must have forced him some how...why hadn't he chosen him?

"I was incensed, Julian! I convinced myself the O'Briens had manipulated you into carrying their child for their own purposes. To ensnare you and keep you from me. Irrational, oh, yes. But you drive me to fits of irrationality, doctor. I should have taken the time to sort through my emotions, to gather more information and view the overall situation. But I didn't. And you have my sincerest regret for the entire incident. It was unforgivable of me."

"Yes, it was," Julian murmured, looking down at the tailors clenched fists. "And the O'Briens are the ones you should be apologizing to, not me."

"I will, at the first opportunity." Garak's repentant blue eyes sought any sign of forgiveness or softening in Julian's dark hazel ones. He found only a cool curiosity.

The desperate Cardassian thought that perhaps he should explain some more about his low resistance to anything concerning Julian, though it would pain him to expose himself in such a way. He was not one for talking about his emotions so openly, but then, neither was the doctor.

"You said I was incapable of feeling tender feelings. Like love," Julian pointed out, seeming to read his mind. Damn his eidetic memory.

"Inexcusable, I know. I was feeling rejected and lashed out. You appeared to have chosen to share this intimacy with the O'Briens. They had taken you into their family and made you their own. I was hideously jealous. I have never, ever acted in such a manner in my entire long and complicated life before. I don't know what to say, except that I deeply, deeply regret it."

"Yes, well." Julian frowned. Garak had apologized, but he had a feeling that there were things yet to be said. Not right now, however. He needed a moment to calm himself down. A distraction was called for. "As you say. Now, where's that outfit you have in mind?"

Troubled by Julian's ambiguous response, Garak moved to his display console. There he called up the outfits he had envisioned for his young friend. The one he had determined he was going to end up with was second from the last, a flowing Irridian-designed tunic with elasticized dark mahogany pants. His research into human pregnancy seemed to indicate sensitivity to gaining weight and this design would disguise the slight bulge adequately for now. A Cardassian, of course, would have accentuated the bulge, taking pride in their maternal state.

Julian obediently tried on all the holo imaged outfits, indicating this one or that for later consideration, including the one Garak had decided on in his selection. Garak deactivated the imaging program that projected the various outfits onto his customers and rubbed his hands gleefully. The clash of wills over which outfit looked best had restored his equilibrium.

"You have excellent taste in maternity wear, doctor. Now if you will, I shall scan some additional measurements. In here, if you please." He ushered his special customer into the changing room, where Julian assumed the position. Arms straight out from his sides, feet aligned with his hips, the human waited patiently for the measuring to begin.

It was amazing the number of times Garak had managed to find a reason to get him in here, standing like this. The man had a thing for mannequins, he decided.

The Cardassian began to diligently collect measurements, using his favorite tool (with Julian, at least), the tape measure. Stopping regularly to jot things down, he took at least six measurements of the doctors expanded waistline before he was satisfied.

He was standing behind the doctor, taking shoulder width readings when he suddenly stopped, wrapped his hands around Julian's upper arms and leaned up against him.

"I could have lost you." The words were spoken gravely into the younger man's collar. At last, alone together in the darkened cubicle, Garak could reveal the real reason for his calamitous blind fury; complete, bowel-loosening fear. Fear of losing the one person he had met in the past several years to get so completely, irrevocably under his skin.

After taking a deep breath to grapple back some of his control, Garak whispered again into his companion's ear, "I would have hated training up another lunch companion, my dear. What would I have done if you had - died?" The slight hitch in his voice was the only indication of how deeply Garak felt. That and his iron grip on the doctor's arms.

Julian closed his eyes and leaned his head back until it rested on the tailor's shoulder. "I didn't die," he said.

"But you could have." Garak inhaled the faint sent of cinnamon that came from the doctor's hair, wondering for the thousandth time if it was a natural scent, or something in his shampoo. One day he would have to ask. One day he would like to find out by the simple act of waking up next to an unwashed doctor and finding the answer for himself. "I should place you in a room, my dear, and disable the doorlock. It's about the only way I can think of to keep you safe. But then I would still have to find a replacement dinning companion."

"I'd hate to be any trouble." Julian leaned back some more, entrusting the Cardassian with his full weight. "You've picked the worst possible time for this, you know." He reached back and took Garak's arms, pulling them forward to wrap around his waist. "The Bajorans will not be pleased."

"Fuck the Bajorans." Garak carefully tightened his arms in an experimental squeeze. The tentative hug brought out a wash of possessiveness and he drew the doctor in even tighter.

The minutes ticked by and it eventually dawned on the tailor that he needed to let Julian go. The poor man had been on his feet all day, he should be sitting down. He briefly - oh, so briefly - touched his lips to the side of Julian's neck, before releasing him and stepping away. With a few deft movements, he logged the last of his measurements and opened the door to the change room, ushering Julian out.

"There, all done. I take it you will be dinning with the O'Briens tonight?"

"As always, yes." Julian entered the shop proper and turned to lift an inquiring eyebrow at his companion.

"Then perhaps I will see you tomorrow for lunch. At the Vulcan restaurant, for a change. We can make fun of the waiters together. They are just so serious about their jobs. And I ask you, who could be serious about plomeek soup!" Garak tilted his head and lifted one teasing brow.

"Really Garak, you shouldn't be so mean to them. Asking for the calorie count of that water pudding; I thought the waiter was going to have a fit." Their usual light conversation felt like a huge relief after the soul baring of the last hour or so.

"I thought he might collapse, too. Vulcans have no sense of humor. What a shame he recovered, I do love seeing you go into action, my dear." Garak smirked, leading his friend towards the doorway. "And, by the way..." He pulled the younger man closer and whispered in his ear, while at the same time pressing a small object into his palm. "I love you. If you need me, just call."

Julian looked down to see a Cardassian communicator nestled in his hand.

"But I'm sure it's just a rumor," Garak finished loudly, for the sake of the two Bajoran women he found hovering just outside his shop door.

"I'm sure, too," Julian agreed, tightening his hand over the communicator. "But then - rumors always make the best stories, don't they?"

"Why, yes, doctor. I believe they do!" Garak tucked a hand into the crook of Julian's arm and they began to wonder back to the younger man's quarters. "My dear, was that Pak Dorran we just saw outside my shop?"

"I told you, Elim, Kira has my security well in hand."

"Aaargh!"

Miles O'Brien bolted upright from his sound sleep. "Lights!" He glared around his bedroom, expecting Klingons at the very least. What he saw was Julian, bedclothes wrapped around his ankles, arms and legs akimbo as he tossed his head back and forth, in the grip of some dream.

Oh, another nightmare. And no Keiko to come and soothe the lad awake. Before Miles could stir from his bed, Julian yelled again, sat up right and opened his eyes. Blinking owlishly in the bright light, he tried to get his bearings.

Julian had always woken himself from nightmares by yelling, he had once told O'Brien. Just what a privileged brat like young Bashir had had nightmares about was anyone's guess. The habit had gotten him in trouble; Miles remembered the scorn with which Major Kira had related the incident with the Wadi.

The game-playing Wadi visited the station from the other side of the wormhole. That night they had transported the command team into a holographic board game and used them like game pieces. Sisko had found Julian in the trap-like maze by following the screams. Julian had thought it was a nightmare and been yelling lustily to try and wake himself up. Captain Sisko had been quite disparaging of the young doctor's behavior at the time. Poor Julian, he hadn't had the easiest introduction to DS9.

"Are you all right?" Miles' soft question seemed to pull Julian out of some dark contemplation.

"Yes, just a nightmare. What time is it?" Julian ran a shaky hand through his tousled hair.

"Not time for us to be up yet." Miles slid out of his bed and knelt by the doctor's side. He regarded the troubled face of his friend, then made a decision. "Up ya get, time to move yer skinny carcass into the big bed."

"What? Miles, you can't. I'd keep you awake."

"No arguments. It's silly making up two beds, anyway. With Keiko gone, there's plenty of room and we'll save on washing. Besides," he slipped an arm around the doctor's waist, giving a little pull, "I'm kind of worried about sleeping through the morning sickness and if I did that, Keiko would kill me."

Keiko had arranged to return to finish her botany work on Bajor, soon after they had their talk. Free to do so, she had also arranged to visit Molly for a week or two as well. She worried about her little girl, although her parents assured her she was fine.

They had told Julian it was vital to the Bajoran economy that her botanical surveys be completed as soon as possible, so he wouldn't ask awkward questions. He didn't really believe it, but had let them say so without confronting them over the issue.

Luckily the male pregnancy debate had turned in their favor on Bajor. A factual account had at last been given about the shuttle accident to the people and the Bajorans were realistic enough to see that Julian and Keiko had had very little choice in the matter. Apologies had even been offered for earlier harassment. Assured of her safety, Keiko had left, telling Julian that she would return closer to the birth.

"I'm not sure your wife would approve, Miles." But Julian was smiling as he said it and provided no further resistance to being helped over to the larger bed. Miles arranged several of the monitoring devices and other paraphernalia, before picking up a damp hand towel and running it over Julian's face and hands. Julian meekly let him do it, secretly glad to be rid of the sticky sweat of fear. It had been a bad nightmare.

"There, all ready to face the three o'clock menace." Miles smiled, then fussed around a little more before crawling back beneath the sheets and calling off the lights.

"Good night Miles. And thank you."

"No, Julian, thank you," came the soft reply.

Soon after the doctor's breathing had evened out into peaceful sleep. Miles was almost there himself, when he felt the pillow move and knew Julian was tossing his head in the beginnings of another nightmare. Reaching over, Miles laid a reassuring hand on his friend's arm.

Julian turned to him, instinctively seeking comfort. As the doctor settled into him and back to peaceful sleep, Miles, his arms full of snuggling Bashir, fought a silent war with himself. Finally deciding that it couldn't hurt, he reached up and began slowly stroking the slumbering man's hair. In the dark he watched over his friend's dreams. And with a bittersweet pang acknowledged his longings, and dreamed of another life....

Julian sat at Quark's bar, a cup of Karvino juice in one hand, his chin in the other.

"I mean, really. This is too much," he said to the world at large. "It is my infirmary, after all."

Grimp, one of Quark's bartender/waiters, nodded sagely as he wiped at the bartop.

"Sure, I spend a lot of time there. But I'm a doctor. An infirmary is where doctors belong. Even if it isn't their shift, they tend to wander in from time to time, check how every thing is, answer any questions, lend a hand if needed. It's a natural thing to do. Quark knows. He's always checking up on this place." The young human waved a vague hand at the dabo tables and beyond and Grimp curled his lip in agreement. Quark certainly did check up on them, worst luck.

"And now, just because I happened to wander in when a patient was having a violent fit, she's going to kick me out!"

Somewhat new to the barkeeping game, but equipped with Quark's half dozen 'words of counsel and general commiseration to give to customers,' Grimp nodded again and muttered, "Women!" Bashir gave him a curious look, but continued with his diatribe.

"It's my infirmary, after all. I should be allowed to go in there whenever I want. But, no, it's 'only during working hours, Julian.' Heartless." He drained the last of the Karvino juice and set the glass down on the bar. "She took my comm badge, too. All I have is this stupid wrist communicator now." He held out his arm and Grimp inspected the rather large digital display strapped in place there.

"I can still do my job, damn it! I'm pregnant, you know! Not lobotomized!" Bashir got to his feet, paused, made sure which way the exit was, then marched out to the promenade. His silent shadows followed discreetly behind.

Pregnant? mused Grimp, tugging absently on an ear. I thought she was a man. Humans, they all look alike to me.

Julian woke up and turned his head to check the time. It was just before three. He felt the first waves of nausea beginning to build, and gave a weary sigh. Besides him on the bed, Miles tightened his arms around Julian's waist and snuggled in closer.

He had held Julian like this from that first night, curling up tight to the doctor's back as if he were a security blanket. Which in a way he supposed he was, with Keiko gone. Miles had not taken her departure well. He'd become quite clingy, never leaving Julian's side, hardly letting him out of his sight, even.

But things had settled down lately and life was getting back to normal. Well, as normal as this place got. DS9 was a stopover for all the shear lunacy that this quadrant had to offer, after all.

Slowly Julian became conscious of something hard, warm and slightly damp pressing into his hip. What on earth is that? he wondered groggily, trying to reach down and move it. The 'thing,' whatever it was, felt uncomfortable and he wanted it gone. Miles must have felt it, too, because he seemed to be struggling awake. The younger man had just managed to reach the mysterious object with the tips of his fingers when Miles woke with a start, roaring out Julian's name.

The faintest smell of musk was enough to trigger him and the doctor was over the side of the bed, heaving, before the sudden wetness on his hip registered. Miraculously, his sudden heave hit the bowl besides the bed and not the floor.

For ten minutes, the bucket besides the bed was his whole world, no other thoughts were permitted. He gasped and choked, tried to breathe through the spasms. How the hell had women gone through this in the past? It was humiliating, exhausting and just plain horrible.

When the first ghastly wave of nausea had passed he looked up to find Miles at his shoulder - hypo, dry biscuits and glass of water at the ready. These were administered with somewhat more remoteness than usual and a dizzy and slightly disorientated Bashir wondered what he had done wrong. Miles efficiently cleaned up, shoving the debris from his administrations on the side table before turning to frown down at his patient.

"Here, can you stand up for a while?"

Groggily Julian did so and felt Miles pull the sheets from the bed. He then eased Julian's wet pajama bottoms off and fitted him with new ones. Dry and comfortable again Julian was resettled, while Miles applied cool compresses to his wrists and the sides of his neck. This treatment seemed to work best and Julian soon felt the nausea recede further.

"What was all that about?" he asked, still a little disorientated. Miles began blushing furiously, but kept silent and focused on what he was doing. Julian played back the night's activities in his mind - hard thing digging into his hip, wetness, odd musky aroma...ah. "Missing Keiko, were you? It's all right, old chap. Perfectly understandable. Warm body, half-asleep and all that. Could you empty out that bucket for me, I think I won't be needing it again tonight."

Miles immediately bent to grab the bowl and carry it off with unseemly haste.

By the time he got back, having sanitized and deodorized the all-important vomit receptacle, Julian had arranged himself on the bed once more. Miles proceeded with the nightly ritual of pulse, temperature, glucose and other readings, marking each down in Doctor Morou's prepared PADD. He added a few notes on the end before finally crawling into the bed himself. He was hopeful that Julian had fallen asleep again; he often did at this stage.

But no such luck. Julian lay on his back, wide-awake, something niggling away at his subconscious.

"You called my name," he said aloud, when it finally struck him what it was. "You said 'Julian'."

"When?" the chief asked, a little too quickly.

"When you...against my hip…Miles, you...didn't you?" Julian shivered, unaccountably embarrassed, for all that he was a medical doctor and talked about the odder functions of the body on a regular basis.

"Yes. Yes, I was. I did." Miles turned to regard the outline of his friend's profile in the dim light. A great wash of shame hit him as he realized just exactly what it was he had done. Oh, God, I tried to rape my pregnant best friend in his sleep!

It could happen again and Julian was in no condition to stop him. Actually, he half expected that Bashir would tell him to explore his feelings and he'd try and help him through it.

With the hormones kicking around in his system, there was no telling what Julian might agree to that he would ordinarily not. Julian was capable of almost any action if he thought it might help him keep a friend. The young doctor had had so few in his life before coming to DS9, he sometimes went overboard trying to appease the ones he had. He'd tried to keep girlfriends that way, too, resulting in some very explosive and horribly dangerous situations.

Well, it wasn't going to happen now. Miles would protect him. Miles would tell him that...what? That Julian had to take this seriously. That Miles felt out of control, in need of mediation, of supervision.

Julian had to be protected. Miles needed to call in one of Julian's friends, one he trusted and would listen to if they advised him to get out, that the situation was too dangerous. That Miles had gone too far. Maybe I should just call Security and get myself arrested? Oh, be'god. What will Keiko say?

"Julian, we need to call someone to come here. I don't feel right, discussing this with you alone," he explained, then swiftly got out of bed and headed for the door.

"Miles?" But the chief was out the bedroom and calling up Jadzia on the comm. His words were terse, but he conveyed the fact that they had a problem and needed a mediator, immediately.

"Miles, what is it? Why do you want Jadzia here, of all people. Talk to me!" Julian sat up, puzzled. This wasn't like the chief. He generally tried to handle personal problems on his own. Confused Julian watched as Miles hurried to get the blue night robe and came over to drape it over his shoulders, absently rubbing at Julian's back. The man was clearly highly distressed.

"I have some things to say to you," Miles confessed, "and - well, I feel uncomfortable saying them while I have you trapped alone here in my bed." He reluctantly dropped his hands from Julian's back and took a step away. Julian eyed his withdrawal with alarm.

"I'm not trapped! I don't feel at all threatened by you, Miles O'Brien, so get that thought out of your head." Miles just looked away. "This is ridiculous. Well, if we are going to have a visitor, I would rather not entertain them from here. Go order up some Fanalian Toddys, I think we're going to need them."

As the chief scurried off to the replicator Julian coaxed his tired body upright. Tying the robe Miles had given him around his decidedly increased girth he heard the door chime. He made it to the entertaining area just as Jadzia was being led into the room.

Dax looked immaculate, as always, despite it being so early, and Julian felt uncomfortably frumpy all of a sudden. He wished he could have had time to at least comb his hair, it must look a fright. He ran a hand self-consciously over his disheveled locks as they all seated themselves in the living room.

Miles handed around the warm drinks and, after taking a sip, Jadzia realized neither of the two men were going to talk, so she asked what the problem was. She'd wondered over the half dozen fears Julian was still struggling with on the way over here, but felt sure he would not have spoken of any of them to the chief. This would be something new.

The two men studied their mugs, neither willing to start talking. Finally Miles decided to take the bull by the horns and gave Dax his somewhat slanted view of matters.

"It's me. I've become, er, sexually attracted to Julian, which resulted in an unwanted sexual advance earlier tonight." He confessed, then took an extra large sip of his toddy. His hands shook as he lowered the glass mug to the table.

"You were asleep!" Julian broke in.

"That doesn't matter." Miles looked stubborn.

"It bloody well does!" Julian shot back, annoyed.

"Julian, calm down this minute. You, too, Miles." Jadzia shifted to sit next to the irked-looking doctor and took his pulse. That shut them up. When she felt they had both settled, Dax looked into Julian's eyes and asked him gently for the facts.

"Miles had a wet dream and found relief against my hip. Not exactly an earth-shattering occurrence. Except," Julian paused and glanced at his friend from under lowered lashes, a painfully shy look of curiosity, "except that he called my name."

Jadzia turned to the station's engineer. "Julian's right, Miles. This doesn't sound like anything to worry about. We can't be held responsible for what we do in our sleep." Her lips twitched, as did Julian's as they both remembered the time he'd called up a doppelganger of her when asleep. The poor thing had come pre-programmed to fawn on him in a most un-Jadzia like way.

"But you don't understand!" Agitated, O'Brien stood and began to pace the room. "Ever since we first met, I've felt a connection. I love Keiko, don't get me wrong, but I've always been aware how...pretty he is, too."

On the sofa, Julian made a face behind Miles' back, but Jadzia shot him a glare and he held his tongue. Pretty? Me? he thought, disgusted. Miles was babbling.

"It hasn't been hard to sublimate my reactions. He can be an annoying pest at times and I've always tried to focus on that. I've pushed irritation and annoyance to the fore in all our dealings together. And make no mistake, I feel both irritable and annoyed when I think of Julian Bashir!"

Miles paused mid-stride to finger the leaves on one of Keiko's bonsai trees. It didn't look well, he mused irritably. His houseguest must have got to it with the watering can again. See, an irritant. That's all he is. However, Miles knew such thoughts were just a facade for how he really felt.

Jadzia fixed the distressed engineer with her eyes. "This isn't just about tonight, is it?"

"No. Well, yes and no." Now that he'd calmed down a bit, he could see he had overreacted a little. Men had wet dreams, they even had wet dreams about their best friends. True, they didn't normally knock them up, then pin them down in their marital bed while their wives were away, but there you had it.

"It's just, well, I've seen this coming, or something like it, for a while now. I may want to kiss him when I'm asleep, but I still want to when I'm awake, too." Miles kept his gaze roughly in the area Jadzia was, although he couldn't meet her eyes. And he could no more have looked at Julian than he could fly down the promenade. He could say the words, or look at the effects they had had on his friend, but he could not do both. And the words needed to be said. He took a deep breath, and plunged on.

"And it's not just about the physical, though, God, I wish it was. I've come to know how good a person he is. I'm not just fixated on the outside, where everyone can see. And, Lordy, that's nice enough, with those big brown eyes and that lithe body with the smooth tan skin. But on the inside, as well. You know what I mean, Dax."

Jadzia nodded, but it was Dax who understood. Three hundred years old and captivated by a human child. She didn't know how Miles knew, but Dax did indeed know how good Julian could be. She, after all, had the memories of the symbiont that had gone back in time to draw on.

That Dax had existed with a Julian Bashir who had also been time stranded, lost in space to all but each other. That Julian had spent seventy years looking after her host-deprived body, caring for her needs until eventually, heartbreakingly, he had died. It was with difficulty that she kept herself from influencing her current host's freedom of choice and pursuing the young doctor with all of Curzon's skill, Audry's cunning and Joran's bloody-minded doggedness.

"We've become close friends, but now with the baby and all... God help me, but I just want to kiss him sometimes." Miles collapsed into a chair, eyes firmly fixed on the hands laced in his lap. He flexed the knuckles experimentally, welcoming the slight pain when he over-stretched them.

"Don't do that," Julian admonished softly. His eyes were suspiciously bright and his voice held a rough edge to it that hinted at the emotions he was keeping in check.

Miles stopped fidgeting and looked up at his friend. Their eyes met, and all else seemed to fade away.

"Chief, what do you want to do?" Jadzia asked softly.

It took a while for the words to sink in.

"Do? I want to look after Julian, but I don't want to be confronting him with unwanted advances. We get awkward enough as it is with each other and that's with just a friendship. I should go." He stood and Jadzia got up as well, catching his arm.

"I'd like to talk with Julian for a while, Chief. But then we'll need to see you again, too." She let an edge of command creep into her voice.

"If you want. I'll go tidy up in the bedroom, then." He turned to look at Julian. "I'm truly sorry for all this, Julian."

"I know, Miles."

The engineer nodded and silently left the room. Jadzia turned to regard Julian. He looked tired, a not unexpected occurrence. It was still near the middle of the night for him.

"Were you surprised, just then?" she asked, sitting beside him and surreptitiously checking his throat monitor.

"Lord, yes, but I shouldn't have been. As he said, we've become very close. Now that I'm carrying his child, well, it's only natural that he feel even more strongly attracted."

"Julian, how do you feel about him? Is it possible you love him?" Concern shone in the Trill's vivid blue eyes.

"Love! Well, yes, but not that way, not... He'll always love Keiko more than me, no matter what he fears now. And I've never let myself think of him in any way other than as my dear friend because of that. Maybe if I had met him before he met Keiko...but he has met her, and he loves her dearly." Julian stared over at the table of miniature trees that always made him think of Miles' wife. Tiny, sheltered, stubborn little trees, that clung tenaciously to their rocky footings. Actually, one of them wasn't looking so good, he'd have to water it again.

"The chief does have a point, Julian. This could make things very awkward between you both," Dax observed.

"Yes, well. We'll just have to suffer through that, I'm afraid. Things ahead...I think you know, they're going to be tough. I can get through them without Keiko, though I would have liked her to be here. But we were never that close, really. And while I would like Chief O'Brien, father of the child, to be there for me, I need Miles. I genuinely don't think I can make it without him."

"Then we had better get him to stay." Jadzia smiled reassuringly at him, reaching over to pat his arm. She hoped she was doing the right thing as she called the chief back into the room.

"Have you...have you reached a decision?" Miles actually looked frightened and Jadzia's natural urge to tease him a bit before letting him off the hook faded.

"Julian wants to stay and I agree that he should. You're going to have to put up with him for a little longer, Chief."

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea. I've been thinking...."

"And what has Keiko warned you about with that!" Julian snapped. Really, he'd been calm this whole time, but he was not going to sit by and watch his support base trying to wiggle itself free of him. "No, Miles, I need you. I want you, as the father, to be part of this pregnancy, but I need you to help me through it, as a friend."

His voice broke a little over that. Turning his head, he blinked savagely to clear his eyes from the tears blurring his vision. "I trust you not to push anything and so does Keiko. She knew about this, didn't she? The attraction. You tell her everything," Julian guessed, and Miles reluctantly nodded agreement.

"I love you, too, Miles, you're my dearest friend. We will always mean something special to each other. But you're married, and we both know you love Keiko more than life itself. We can do this. I promise not to start acting all shyly demure, if you promise not to start stealing my underwear and respect my space. Agreed?"

Miles choked on a laugh that was almost a sob. He had once confessed that Keiko used to leave her panties in his trouser pockets when they were newlyweds and he had had a thing about underwear ever since. Trust Julian to remember that and turn this into a joke. But he couldn't help grinning, just a little.

"Stay, Miles. Please."

Startled by the tone of the request, Miles stared at his friend. Really looked, for the first time tonight. How could he have missed that? The fear in Julian's eyes shocked him. He'd been so focused on his own problem, this humiliating inability to control his libido, he hadn't thought how his pulling away would effect his friend.

Too afraid of being rejected for his unwelcome desire, he had failed to consider the doctor's fear. Julian had been hit hard when Keiko left. Miles had had to stick close to his friend for a while until he regained his spark and now he was threatening to do the same and abandon him.

Without further thought, he was across the room, enveloping him in his arms. "Of course I will," he choked out. "I'll stay. As long as you want me. I'll stay."