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corpus_invictusAnother project that idkmybffspock and I have taken on is the creation of an OC. In reading that Siddig el Faddir and Nana Visitor have a son whose godfather is Andrew Robinson, we created Oatis, the biological son of Kira and Bashir whose family also extends to Garak and Odo by proxy. We've created a series of artwork and drabbles on the subject. Here they are in more or less chronological order.
Title: Unimagined Joys
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: None, barring the Kira/Bashir necessary for Oatis's existence
Rating: G
Notes: For a series of Kira and Oatis artwork done for Mother's Day: first, second, third, and fourth.
Kira Nerys had never imagined having children of her own. It was a sentiment that hadn’t changed even after she’d given birth to Kirayoshi and felt those pangs of loss when he rejoined the O’Briens. She had missed him, yes, but not so much that she felt she needed her own children. She was content with being Aunt Nerys, the peripheral family member.
To be honest, she hadn’t been pleased to discover she was pregnant. She had even considered, for a short time, giving full custody of the child to Bashir. She hadn’t wanted to be a mother. She hadn’t wanted that kind of responsibility.
And then, Oatis had surprised her. She’d breathed and smiled and meditated her way through the labor, much more relaxed than she’d been during Yoshi’s birth. She’d felt her heart twist in her chest at the first loud cry of her son. And then she’d felt it shatter and reform around the tiny, wriggling creature Julian placed in her arms, their hands curling around him protectively, both of them with tears in their eyes as they whispered to him and to each other.
She can’t imagine her life without him now. She can’t imagine her memories being devoid of the times she would curl up with Odie in her lap, counting each of his fingers and toes as if to assure herself he was still intact. Or the times she would lift him over her head, delighting in his gurgling laughter, pulling him back in to nuzzle at the little ridged nose, feeling a sense of profound awe that so much joy could stem from so simple a thing.
She can’t imagine not hugging that warm, small body to her chest as she pointed to each constellation in the Bajoran sky. Can’t imagine not feeling the hum of his voice as he repeated each one, his hand pressed to her wrist and his eyes wide in endless wonder. Can’t imagine a purpose greater than helping to form this fresh, new mind.
He’s bigger now, almost seven years old, and she can’t believe how fast the time flies by. She’s now been a mother for the same amount of time she was assigned to Deep Space Nine, and motherhood seems as if it’s gone by at least twice as quickly. Odie has Julian’s coloring - the honeyed skin, the hazel eyes, the dark messy hair - but the features are all hers. And when she grabs him around the middle, fingers skritching gently against his ribs, his shocked laughter and wide grin are a mirror of her own.
Oatis is nothing she ever planned for. To be honest, he was nothing she’d ever dreamed of wanting. And now she can’t imagine giving up this curious, gleeful, wonderful, amazing child for anything in the universe.
Title: Unconditional
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this brilliant piece, which is my very favorite Garak drawing.
Cardassians have a long history of devotion to family. However, such intense devotion is conditional, dependent upon bloodlines and legitimacy - conditions which prevented Garak himself from having a proper childhood. From his own upbringing and the culture which produced him, he should not be reacting in such a fashion.
The fact of the matter is that Oatis isn’t his. Oatis isn’t even a Cardassian. He’s the half human, half Bajoran product of a tryst between his partner and Kira Nerys. He’s forgiven the tryst - how can he not, given his own not-so-stellar background full of incidents far worse than a trivial one night stand followed by days of heartfelt apologies? He has no higher ground here and they both know it. But when Kira had admitted she was pregnant, Garak found that the news dismayed him rather than excited him.
He hadn’t taken any great lengths to hide his reaction from Bashir. As a result, he’d spent the nine months of Kira’s pregnancy in a tense, uneasy truce with his partner, dancing around each other so much that it reminded him of when he’d first met the nervous, awkward young man in the Replimat. He had heard that fatherhood could change a man, could rearrange his outlook in the blink of an eye. He had imagined that might be true if he’d ever produced any offspring of his own. But Oatis was not - would never be - his.
He is shocked to discover just how wrong he has been.
He doesn’t have the time - or frankly, the inclination - to rearrange his expression when Bashir hands him the child. Oatis looks more like Kira than Bashir, with a wild tousle of dark auburn hair and little Bajoran ridges over the bridge of his nose. The features are all Kira as well, though his complexion is substantially darker than hers.
But as Garak cradles the baby to his chest, Oatis’s eyes open. And he’s never had any kind of defense against those huge, familiar hazel eyes.
Oatis gurgles at him and flails his arms around. On a whim, Garak lifts him higher until they can make eye contact with each other. He’s just about to make some sort of sarcastic little quip when Oatis reaches out and lays a hand over his nose, tiny fingers scrabbling at the lines of scales there. Time suspends for a moment as Oatis bats his hands at Garak’s face - sometimes gently, sometimes not so gently. He meets Garak’s eyes again, as if coming to some sort of decision about him.
He smiles.
And Garak’s heart feels fit to burst, somehow.
Bashir’s voice is distant in his ears, but sounds as overwhelmed as Garak himself feels. “I think your son likes you.”
‘Your son.’ All thoughts of Cardassian bloodlines and cultural norms are obliterated as he smiles up at the little boy. “I believe the feeling is mutual.”
Title: Don't Ask
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this one, inspired by a video that made the rounds on Tumblr awhile back.
"I... Do I even ask?"
"My dear doctor, I should think any question you were about to ask would have a perfectly obvious answer."
"You would think, yes."
"Is there a problem?"
"How did you even fit in there? I mean, with the pillows and close quarters..."
"Actually it was less difficult fitting in here than it is finding appropriate sleeping space in our own bed."
"..."
"You kick in your sleep, you know."
"So you've said."
"And hog blankets. And-"
"This is getting off topic."
"I disagree. There's no doubt the child is yours, considering he is just as adamant about his strange sleeping habits."
Amused smile. "And just as adamant about his bedmates."
"Yes, well..." Embarrassed smile.
Light kiss on the head. "It was sweet of you, Elim."
"Perhaps. There remains the matter of escaping, however..."
"Oh no. You got yourself in there. You can get yourself back out."
Title: Smitten
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this one.
Garak shuffled into the room blearily, somewhat dismayed at himself for his lack of coordination. He had been trained as a spy, after all, able to function on minimal sleep while still keeping his faculties and physical reactions at their peak. Now after three months of fatherhood, all that training was slipping away after the sleepless nights, early morning feedings, and Oatis’s total refusal to nap for longer than twenty minutes at a stretch during the day.
Bashir, damn his perfect hide, looked awake, refreshed, and totally at ease with the source of their sleep deprivation cradled in one arm, babbling soft nonsense into his hair.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Garak asked, not sure which of them he was directing the question towards.
“It’s just past 0200 and apparently it was time to be fed and changed,” Bashir responded in that quiet, borderline sing-song voice he’d developed ever since Oatis was born. Oatis, for his part, simply looked at Garak over Bashir’s shoulder, the picture of innocence.
“I’m on to you, young man,” Garak responded, wagging a finger at him before sidling behind Bashir.
“I’m going to regret asking this, but on to what?”
“Why, he simply wanted attention from a naive, attractive young doctor, of course.”
Bashir rolled his eyes. “Of course.”
“And he must take after his father if he’s already so good at wrapping said doctor around his little finger,” Garak continued, resting his hands over Bashir’s waist.
“Oh, I’d say he’s much more like his dad,” Bashir returned, slipping easily into the game.
“Really? How so?”
Bashir turned and flashed him that impish smile he loved so dearly. “Totally smitten with a certain charming Cardassian tailor.”
Garak glanced down at their son, who apparently hadn’t stopped staring at him since he’d entered the room. He met Bashir’s smile with a slightly besotted one of his own. “How nice it is to be surrounded by men of such fine taste.”
Bashir rolled his eyes again, shutting him up with a quick kiss.
Title: Rites of Passage
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this one.
Julian winced as tiny hands bunched in his shirt, an almost comically worried look spreading over his son’s face. “Relax, Odie.”
“But Mama said-“
“I know what Mama said.” And he was going to exchange words about that with Kira later.
“Father’s gonna throw a hissy fit.”
Julian sighed, kissing his cheek in an attempt to soothe him. “Father is not going to throw a hissy fit. Your mother just likes to antagonize him whenever she can.”
“Antaga-what?”
“To bother him. You know they like teasing each other.”
Odie’s eyes went wide and conspiratorial. “I think they just like being mean to each other.”
Odie was right, but Julian couldn’t quite find it in himself to admit as much. His son would learn cynicism soon enough, likely from his father. He didn’t care to speed up that process. “Ready?” he changed the subject instead.
Odie nodded, eyes still wide and anxious.
Julian entered the security code that allowed them into Garak’s office. “We’re back,” he announced.
“Obviously,” came the expected reply. Garak finished signing something on a PADD before setting it aside, smiling up at the two of them when he was finished. “I trust you had a nice time with your mother?”
Odie nodded, a little hesitant. The light caught on one of the bangles of his new earring.
The sight caught Garak’s attention instantly. He rose from his desk, making his way over to the two of them. “And it looks as though your mother had a nice time corrupting you as well.”
“Garak,” Julian protested. “He is half Bajoran. It’s not corruption if he was born into the culture.”
“What’s corruption?” Odie piped up.
“Nothing your mother would dream of doing,” Julian answered before Garak could think up a decent lie in response.
Instead, he took his time peering at the new earring, Odie looking more and more worried as the silence dragged on. Finally Garak reached out a slow, steady hand, fingering one of the bangles. “I recognize this,” he said quietly. “This is the symbol of your mother’s family. And this, I suppose,” fingering a tiny silver caduceus, “is meant to symbolize your father.”
“Uh huh,” Odie said, wide eyes fixed on Garak’s face. He stayed absolutely still under the gentle scrutiny.
“What’s the significance of the Bajoran topaz?” Tiny slivers of the mineral were woven into the fine chain.
“Mama says that’s what color Papa is in his true form.”
“Ah.”
There was something distant and almost sad in Garak’s voice. Hoping he understood the reason for it, Julian cleared his throat. “Look at the cuff.”
It took a moment for it to register, and Julian couldn’t help his own wide grin when he saw recognition light up those pale blue eyes. Engraved across the curve of the earcuff was the word, “Family,” in Cardassian.
“Ah,” was all Garak managed to say.
Odie looked up at Julian. “Is he gonna throw a hissy fit now?”
Garak, Julian could tell, was still speechless. Some deep, nameless warmth had taken over his expression and he hadn’t removed his hand from where it curved protectively over Odie’s newly decorated right ear.
“No, son,” he said, dropping a kiss to the crown of his head. “No, I don’t think you need to worry about that.”
Title: Childhood Literacy
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this one.
Never in his wildest dreams had it occurred to Garak that he would return to Cardassia not as a spy back in favor with Enabran Tain, nor as a celebrated member of the military, nor even as a diplomat or politician, but as a father of a child with whom he shared no blood ties nor even a common species. And yet here he was, seated on the floor of Oatis’s bedroom with the half-human, half-Bajoran child squirming in his lap as he read to him from one of Bashir’s (and, to be honest, his own) favorite fairy tales.
“Belle smiled at the Beast as he began to relax and take the lead in their dance, twirling her around the ballroom-“
“This is boring,” Oatis complained, making a face at the book.
“Don’t let your dad hear you say that,” Garak returned, feeling a touch wounded on the story’s behalf himself.
“Why not?”
“This was his favorite story as a child, and the first ‘fairy tale’ he introduced me to when he was explaining the concept to me. Cardassians don’t have them, you know.”
“I know. Just army stories and stories about Guls and Legates yelling at each other.”
Garak heaved a mock sigh, kissing the top of Oatis’s head. “Someday you’ll appreciate all those political intrigues, you know.”
“Nah, they’re boring too. But this is more boring.”
Interesting. “Why is that?”
“I’ve heard it before.”
Also interesting. Bashir hadn’t mentioned reading it to him. In fact, he’d encouraged Garak to do so. “Has your mother been reading you human literature? I thought she was too busy filling your head with all that Bajoran spiritual nonsense to bother with anything human in origin.”
“Nope.”
He gave up on the book for now, setting it aside and watching Oatis squirm clear out of his lap. “Then where did you hear this story before?”
Oatis surprised him by leaning forward and pressing a smacking kiss to the indentation on his forehead. “It’s the same story of how you and Dad met. Only it’s a castle instead of a space station and you’re not a human on the inside.”
Garak couldn’t help gaping at the child. Surely he was far too young to have made such leaps in analytical logic.
“Why don’t you take Kukalaka outside to play for a little while?” came a familiar voice from the doorway. With an eager little shout, Oatis grabbed the well-loved teddy bear from his father’s hand and took off.
Garak recovered himself just enough to tease the other man as he settled next to him on the floor. “Your son appears to have cast you in the role of Beauty. I can’t say I blame him.”
Bashir chuckled at that, leaning against him comfortably. “You know, I never did like the Beast’s human form. I always felt he was much more striking as the mysterious creature skulking about the Promenade.”
“I believe you mean the castle, my dear doctor.”
Bashir’s smile had just the right amount of teasing in it. “Not at all.”
Garak responded by growling into his ear, which made Bashir regret that his son wouldn’t be gone nearly long enough for him to react to it properly.
Title: Scruffy and Shaggy
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: PG, barely bordering on PG-13
Notes: For this one, which is quite possibly my favorite Bashir drawing.
“Terrible,” Garak tutted as he adjusted the settings of the holo imager. Odo had left it with them the last time he’d visited and Garak was only now getting the opportunity to play with it.
“Don’t tell me you’ve broken it,” Julian murmured from his comfortable sprawl on the couch.
“My dear doctor, I would hardly admit it to you even if I had.”
“Father doesn’t like telling the truth,” Oatis piped up from his spot on the other side of the sofa, feet plopped in Julian’s lap.
Garak flashed him a wicked smile. “That’s a lie.”
Oatis just giggled and burrowed his head in Kukalaka’s worn plush fur, delighted with their wordplay.
“I suppose I should be worried that you’ve already taught our son how enjoyable it is to stretch the truth,” Julian said, reaching to tickle the sole of one small foot, breaking into a joyful smile at the resulting squeal.
“Not at all. I’m simply providing him with the skills necessary to navigate the ruthless world of Cardassian politics, should he decide to start a career as a diplomat.”
Julian rolled his eyes, letting go of Oatis’s feet until he settled back down. “Returning to the original point of this conversation, what’s so terrible about the imager?”
“Nothing. It seems to be in pristine condition.” And he proved it by taking a snapshot of his family: Oatis still giggling into Kukalaka’s fur and Julian beaming at him through a face full of lightly graying scruff.
“Then why’d you say it was terrible?” Oatis asked, muffled through the stuffed bear.
“I was referring to the image being captured as opposed to the device itself.” Garak set it aside, standing in front of them and ruffling gentle fingers through Oatis’s shaggy, unkempt hair. “You, young man, are in desperate need of a haircut.”
And while Oatis was distracted by trying to bat his hand away, Garak leaned in and stole a kiss from his partner. “As are you, my dear.”
“Hmm,” Julian hummed contentedly, his wide smile taking on a wicked edge. “Though it does have its advantages.”
Garak found himself fighting to keep a blush from surfacing as his mind drifted briefly to how nicely his fingers speared into Julian’s hair, giving him something to grab onto when the other man’s lips were stretched around his-
“You’re turning gray again,” Oatis announced, ruining the pleasant flash of memory.
“Blame your dad,” Garak returned, stealing one more kiss before taking the imager to the computer console to store the photo.
Title: The Blame Game
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this one.
“I blame you for this.”
“Of course you do.”
“Oh, come on! He’s following in your footsteps here! He’s not the only male Bashir I know who’s successfully made a pass at a Dabo girl.”
“And here I thought you’d be happy because he was dating a fellow Bajoran.”
“Do you know how many nice Bajoran girls - and boys, by the way - I introduced him to when he was living with me? But oh no, they weren’t good enough for him. He had to come back to the station and put his hands all over that-“
“Now be fair, Kira. He’s not groping her. Delinna’s the one who grabbed his hand and put it… well…”
“Yes, Julian, you just keep on talking. You’re doing such an excellent job of defending her honor.”
“Look, I say we just let this run its course. If he’s anything like me, he’ll get so awkward and ridiculous around her that she’ll leave him for a Ferengi.”
“Still bitter about that, huh?”
“I’d say I got a decent enough consolation prize.”
“I’ll tell Garak you said so.”
“Oh, well, that’s not entirely necessary…”
“What’s not entirely necessary?”
“Julian says you’re a decent consolation prize.”
“How kind. I was just saying the same about him.”
“I didn’t mean it that- wait, what?”
“If you two are his role model for a healthy relationship, our son is doomed.”
Title: Say Cheese
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this one.
“Dad…” Oatis warned, looking alarmed.
“I’m fine. No, really. I promise I am fine and will not embarrass you in front of your friends today.” His misty-eyed look was not exactly inspiring confidence.
“Little late for that, Dad. They know you call me Odie.”
“Which is a perfectly reasonable and not at all horrendous nickname for you. You know what my parents called me?”
“Yes. You’ve told me. At least a thousand times.”
“He does have a curious habit of telling the same story over and over again. And he rarely has the decency to make up alternate versions over time to keep it more interesting,” Garak attempted to be reassuring.
“That’s Cardassian for, ‘Your dad never shuts up,’” Kira added, also trying to be reassuring.
Oatis looked up at his third father, who was currently tinkering with a holographic image capture device. “Papa…” he pleaded for help.
“Don’t look at me. I’m only here to operate the camera. If you wanted someone to keep your dad from crying, perhaps you should have invited Uncle Benjamin to accompany us.”
“I heard about what happened when Jake invited him to his post-publication party once Anslem was released. I don’t think he’s the best candidate for keeping Dad from blubbering,” Oatis grumbled.
“I’m not sure there is a good candidate for that sort of thing,” Kira admitted, wrapping an arm around her son’s waist as Bashir gave up his stoic charade and threw his arms around Garak, hiding most of his face against his shoulder.
“Get it out of your system now, dear,” Garak soothed. “He’ll never forgive you if you do this at the ceremony.”
His answer was a meek sniff of agreement.
Odo rolled his eyes behind the image capture device. “I doubt we’ll get a better photo than this-“
“At least wait until he stops wibbling,” Oatis protested.
“Your choices are to take the picture now or wait and chance your dad bursting into actual tears,” Kira pointed out.
Oatis heaved a long suffering sigh, leaning against his father’s other, tear-free shoulder. Next time he was going to graduate from something, he decided, he’d tell his parents six months after the fact.
Title: Unimagined Joys
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: None, barring the Kira/Bashir necessary for Oatis's existence
Rating: G
Notes: For a series of Kira and Oatis artwork done for Mother's Day: first, second, third, and fourth.
Kira Nerys had never imagined having children of her own. It was a sentiment that hadn’t changed even after she’d given birth to Kirayoshi and felt those pangs of loss when he rejoined the O’Briens. She had missed him, yes, but not so much that she felt she needed her own children. She was content with being Aunt Nerys, the peripheral family member.
To be honest, she hadn’t been pleased to discover she was pregnant. She had even considered, for a short time, giving full custody of the child to Bashir. She hadn’t wanted to be a mother. She hadn’t wanted that kind of responsibility.
And then, Oatis had surprised her. She’d breathed and smiled and meditated her way through the labor, much more relaxed than she’d been during Yoshi’s birth. She’d felt her heart twist in her chest at the first loud cry of her son. And then she’d felt it shatter and reform around the tiny, wriggling creature Julian placed in her arms, their hands curling around him protectively, both of them with tears in their eyes as they whispered to him and to each other.
She can’t imagine her life without him now. She can’t imagine her memories being devoid of the times she would curl up with Odie in her lap, counting each of his fingers and toes as if to assure herself he was still intact. Or the times she would lift him over her head, delighting in his gurgling laughter, pulling him back in to nuzzle at the little ridged nose, feeling a sense of profound awe that so much joy could stem from so simple a thing.
She can’t imagine not hugging that warm, small body to her chest as she pointed to each constellation in the Bajoran sky. Can’t imagine not feeling the hum of his voice as he repeated each one, his hand pressed to her wrist and his eyes wide in endless wonder. Can’t imagine a purpose greater than helping to form this fresh, new mind.
He’s bigger now, almost seven years old, and she can’t believe how fast the time flies by. She’s now been a mother for the same amount of time she was assigned to Deep Space Nine, and motherhood seems as if it’s gone by at least twice as quickly. Odie has Julian’s coloring - the honeyed skin, the hazel eyes, the dark messy hair - but the features are all hers. And when she grabs him around the middle, fingers skritching gently against his ribs, his shocked laughter and wide grin are a mirror of her own.
Oatis is nothing she ever planned for. To be honest, he was nothing she’d ever dreamed of wanting. And now she can’t imagine giving up this curious, gleeful, wonderful, amazing child for anything in the universe.
Title: Unconditional
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this brilliant piece, which is my very favorite Garak drawing.
Cardassians have a long history of devotion to family. However, such intense devotion is conditional, dependent upon bloodlines and legitimacy - conditions which prevented Garak himself from having a proper childhood. From his own upbringing and the culture which produced him, he should not be reacting in such a fashion.
The fact of the matter is that Oatis isn’t his. Oatis isn’t even a Cardassian. He’s the half human, half Bajoran product of a tryst between his partner and Kira Nerys. He’s forgiven the tryst - how can he not, given his own not-so-stellar background full of incidents far worse than a trivial one night stand followed by days of heartfelt apologies? He has no higher ground here and they both know it. But when Kira had admitted she was pregnant, Garak found that the news dismayed him rather than excited him.
He hadn’t taken any great lengths to hide his reaction from Bashir. As a result, he’d spent the nine months of Kira’s pregnancy in a tense, uneasy truce with his partner, dancing around each other so much that it reminded him of when he’d first met the nervous, awkward young man in the Replimat. He had heard that fatherhood could change a man, could rearrange his outlook in the blink of an eye. He had imagined that might be true if he’d ever produced any offspring of his own. But Oatis was not - would never be - his.
He is shocked to discover just how wrong he has been.
He doesn’t have the time - or frankly, the inclination - to rearrange his expression when Bashir hands him the child. Oatis looks more like Kira than Bashir, with a wild tousle of dark auburn hair and little Bajoran ridges over the bridge of his nose. The features are all Kira as well, though his complexion is substantially darker than hers.
But as Garak cradles the baby to his chest, Oatis’s eyes open. And he’s never had any kind of defense against those huge, familiar hazel eyes.
Oatis gurgles at him and flails his arms around. On a whim, Garak lifts him higher until they can make eye contact with each other. He’s just about to make some sort of sarcastic little quip when Oatis reaches out and lays a hand over his nose, tiny fingers scrabbling at the lines of scales there. Time suspends for a moment as Oatis bats his hands at Garak’s face - sometimes gently, sometimes not so gently. He meets Garak’s eyes again, as if coming to some sort of decision about him.
He smiles.
And Garak’s heart feels fit to burst, somehow.
Bashir’s voice is distant in his ears, but sounds as overwhelmed as Garak himself feels. “I think your son likes you.”
‘Your son.’ All thoughts of Cardassian bloodlines and cultural norms are obliterated as he smiles up at the little boy. “I believe the feeling is mutual.”
Title: Don't Ask
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this one, inspired by a video that made the rounds on Tumblr awhile back.
"I... Do I even ask?"
"My dear doctor, I should think any question you were about to ask would have a perfectly obvious answer."
"You would think, yes."
"Is there a problem?"
"How did you even fit in there? I mean, with the pillows and close quarters..."
"Actually it was less difficult fitting in here than it is finding appropriate sleeping space in our own bed."
"..."
"You kick in your sleep, you know."
"So you've said."
"And hog blankets. And-"
"This is getting off topic."
"I disagree. There's no doubt the child is yours, considering he is just as adamant about his strange sleeping habits."
Amused smile. "And just as adamant about his bedmates."
"Yes, well..." Embarrassed smile.
Light kiss on the head. "It was sweet of you, Elim."
"Perhaps. There remains the matter of escaping, however..."
"Oh no. You got yourself in there. You can get yourself back out."
Title: Smitten
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this one.
Garak shuffled into the room blearily, somewhat dismayed at himself for his lack of coordination. He had been trained as a spy, after all, able to function on minimal sleep while still keeping his faculties and physical reactions at their peak. Now after three months of fatherhood, all that training was slipping away after the sleepless nights, early morning feedings, and Oatis’s total refusal to nap for longer than twenty minutes at a stretch during the day.
Bashir, damn his perfect hide, looked awake, refreshed, and totally at ease with the source of their sleep deprivation cradled in one arm, babbling soft nonsense into his hair.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Garak asked, not sure which of them he was directing the question towards.
“It’s just past 0200 and apparently it was time to be fed and changed,” Bashir responded in that quiet, borderline sing-song voice he’d developed ever since Oatis was born. Oatis, for his part, simply looked at Garak over Bashir’s shoulder, the picture of innocence.
“I’m on to you, young man,” Garak responded, wagging a finger at him before sidling behind Bashir.
“I’m going to regret asking this, but on to what?”
“Why, he simply wanted attention from a naive, attractive young doctor, of course.”
Bashir rolled his eyes. “Of course.”
“And he must take after his father if he’s already so good at wrapping said doctor around his little finger,” Garak continued, resting his hands over Bashir’s waist.
“Oh, I’d say he’s much more like his dad,” Bashir returned, slipping easily into the game.
“Really? How so?”
Bashir turned and flashed him that impish smile he loved so dearly. “Totally smitten with a certain charming Cardassian tailor.”
Garak glanced down at their son, who apparently hadn’t stopped staring at him since he’d entered the room. He met Bashir’s smile with a slightly besotted one of his own. “How nice it is to be surrounded by men of such fine taste.”
Bashir rolled his eyes again, shutting him up with a quick kiss.
Title: Rites of Passage
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this one.
Julian winced as tiny hands bunched in his shirt, an almost comically worried look spreading over his son’s face. “Relax, Odie.”
“But Mama said-“
“I know what Mama said.” And he was going to exchange words about that with Kira later.
“Father’s gonna throw a hissy fit.”
Julian sighed, kissing his cheek in an attempt to soothe him. “Father is not going to throw a hissy fit. Your mother just likes to antagonize him whenever she can.”
“Antaga-what?”
“To bother him. You know they like teasing each other.”
Odie’s eyes went wide and conspiratorial. “I think they just like being mean to each other.”
Odie was right, but Julian couldn’t quite find it in himself to admit as much. His son would learn cynicism soon enough, likely from his father. He didn’t care to speed up that process. “Ready?” he changed the subject instead.
Odie nodded, eyes still wide and anxious.
Julian entered the security code that allowed them into Garak’s office. “We’re back,” he announced.
“Obviously,” came the expected reply. Garak finished signing something on a PADD before setting it aside, smiling up at the two of them when he was finished. “I trust you had a nice time with your mother?”
Odie nodded, a little hesitant. The light caught on one of the bangles of his new earring.
The sight caught Garak’s attention instantly. He rose from his desk, making his way over to the two of them. “And it looks as though your mother had a nice time corrupting you as well.”
“Garak,” Julian protested. “He is half Bajoran. It’s not corruption if he was born into the culture.”
“What’s corruption?” Odie piped up.
“Nothing your mother would dream of doing,” Julian answered before Garak could think up a decent lie in response.
Instead, he took his time peering at the new earring, Odie looking more and more worried as the silence dragged on. Finally Garak reached out a slow, steady hand, fingering one of the bangles. “I recognize this,” he said quietly. “This is the symbol of your mother’s family. And this, I suppose,” fingering a tiny silver caduceus, “is meant to symbolize your father.”
“Uh huh,” Odie said, wide eyes fixed on Garak’s face. He stayed absolutely still under the gentle scrutiny.
“What’s the significance of the Bajoran topaz?” Tiny slivers of the mineral were woven into the fine chain.
“Mama says that’s what color Papa is in his true form.”
“Ah.”
There was something distant and almost sad in Garak’s voice. Hoping he understood the reason for it, Julian cleared his throat. “Look at the cuff.”
It took a moment for it to register, and Julian couldn’t help his own wide grin when he saw recognition light up those pale blue eyes. Engraved across the curve of the earcuff was the word, “Family,” in Cardassian.
“Ah,” was all Garak managed to say.
Odie looked up at Julian. “Is he gonna throw a hissy fit now?”
Garak, Julian could tell, was still speechless. Some deep, nameless warmth had taken over his expression and he hadn’t removed his hand from where it curved protectively over Odie’s newly decorated right ear.
“No, son,” he said, dropping a kiss to the crown of his head. “No, I don’t think you need to worry about that.”
Title: Childhood Literacy
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this one.
Never in his wildest dreams had it occurred to Garak that he would return to Cardassia not as a spy back in favor with Enabran Tain, nor as a celebrated member of the military, nor even as a diplomat or politician, but as a father of a child with whom he shared no blood ties nor even a common species. And yet here he was, seated on the floor of Oatis’s bedroom with the half-human, half-Bajoran child squirming in his lap as he read to him from one of Bashir’s (and, to be honest, his own) favorite fairy tales.
“Belle smiled at the Beast as he began to relax and take the lead in their dance, twirling her around the ballroom-“
“This is boring,” Oatis complained, making a face at the book.
“Don’t let your dad hear you say that,” Garak returned, feeling a touch wounded on the story’s behalf himself.
“Why not?”
“This was his favorite story as a child, and the first ‘fairy tale’ he introduced me to when he was explaining the concept to me. Cardassians don’t have them, you know.”
“I know. Just army stories and stories about Guls and Legates yelling at each other.”
Garak heaved a mock sigh, kissing the top of Oatis’s head. “Someday you’ll appreciate all those political intrigues, you know.”
“Nah, they’re boring too. But this is more boring.”
Interesting. “Why is that?”
“I’ve heard it before.”
Also interesting. Bashir hadn’t mentioned reading it to him. In fact, he’d encouraged Garak to do so. “Has your mother been reading you human literature? I thought she was too busy filling your head with all that Bajoran spiritual nonsense to bother with anything human in origin.”
“Nope.”
He gave up on the book for now, setting it aside and watching Oatis squirm clear out of his lap. “Then where did you hear this story before?”
Oatis surprised him by leaning forward and pressing a smacking kiss to the indentation on his forehead. “It’s the same story of how you and Dad met. Only it’s a castle instead of a space station and you’re not a human on the inside.”
Garak couldn’t help gaping at the child. Surely he was far too young to have made such leaps in analytical logic.
“Why don’t you take Kukalaka outside to play for a little while?” came a familiar voice from the doorway. With an eager little shout, Oatis grabbed the well-loved teddy bear from his father’s hand and took off.
Garak recovered himself just enough to tease the other man as he settled next to him on the floor. “Your son appears to have cast you in the role of Beauty. I can’t say I blame him.”
Bashir chuckled at that, leaning against him comfortably. “You know, I never did like the Beast’s human form. I always felt he was much more striking as the mysterious creature skulking about the Promenade.”
“I believe you mean the castle, my dear doctor.”
Bashir’s smile had just the right amount of teasing in it. “Not at all.”
Garak responded by growling into his ear, which made Bashir regret that his son wouldn’t be gone nearly long enough for him to react to it properly.
Title: Scruffy and Shaggy
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: PG, barely bordering on PG-13
Notes: For this one, which is quite possibly my favorite Bashir drawing.
“Terrible,” Garak tutted as he adjusted the settings of the holo imager. Odo had left it with them the last time he’d visited and Garak was only now getting the opportunity to play with it.
“Don’t tell me you’ve broken it,” Julian murmured from his comfortable sprawl on the couch.
“My dear doctor, I would hardly admit it to you even if I had.”
“Father doesn’t like telling the truth,” Oatis piped up from his spot on the other side of the sofa, feet plopped in Julian’s lap.
Garak flashed him a wicked smile. “That’s a lie.”
Oatis just giggled and burrowed his head in Kukalaka’s worn plush fur, delighted with their wordplay.
“I suppose I should be worried that you’ve already taught our son how enjoyable it is to stretch the truth,” Julian said, reaching to tickle the sole of one small foot, breaking into a joyful smile at the resulting squeal.
“Not at all. I’m simply providing him with the skills necessary to navigate the ruthless world of Cardassian politics, should he decide to start a career as a diplomat.”
Julian rolled his eyes, letting go of Oatis’s feet until he settled back down. “Returning to the original point of this conversation, what’s so terrible about the imager?”
“Nothing. It seems to be in pristine condition.” And he proved it by taking a snapshot of his family: Oatis still giggling into Kukalaka’s fur and Julian beaming at him through a face full of lightly graying scruff.
“Then why’d you say it was terrible?” Oatis asked, muffled through the stuffed bear.
“I was referring to the image being captured as opposed to the device itself.” Garak set it aside, standing in front of them and ruffling gentle fingers through Oatis’s shaggy, unkempt hair. “You, young man, are in desperate need of a haircut.”
And while Oatis was distracted by trying to bat his hand away, Garak leaned in and stole a kiss from his partner. “As are you, my dear.”
“Hmm,” Julian hummed contentedly, his wide smile taking on a wicked edge. “Though it does have its advantages.”
Garak found himself fighting to keep a blush from surfacing as his mind drifted briefly to how nicely his fingers speared into Julian’s hair, giving him something to grab onto when the other man’s lips were stretched around his-
“You’re turning gray again,” Oatis announced, ruining the pleasant flash of memory.
“Blame your dad,” Garak returned, stealing one more kiss before taking the imager to the computer console to store the photo.
Title: The Blame Game
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this one.
“I blame you for this.”
“Of course you do.”
“Oh, come on! He’s following in your footsteps here! He’s not the only male Bashir I know who’s successfully made a pass at a Dabo girl.”
“And here I thought you’d be happy because he was dating a fellow Bajoran.”
“Do you know how many nice Bajoran girls - and boys, by the way - I introduced him to when he was living with me? But oh no, they weren’t good enough for him. He had to come back to the station and put his hands all over that-“
“Now be fair, Kira. He’s not groping her. Delinna’s the one who grabbed his hand and put it… well…”
“Yes, Julian, you just keep on talking. You’re doing such an excellent job of defending her honor.”
“Look, I say we just let this run its course. If he’s anything like me, he’ll get so awkward and ridiculous around her that she’ll leave him for a Ferengi.”
“Still bitter about that, huh?”
“I’d say I got a decent enough consolation prize.”
“I’ll tell Garak you said so.”
“Oh, well, that’s not entirely necessary…”
“What’s not entirely necessary?”
“Julian says you’re a decent consolation prize.”
“How kind. I was just saying the same about him.”
“I didn’t mean it that- wait, what?”
“If you two are his role model for a healthy relationship, our son is doomed.”
Title: Say Cheese
Fandom: Star Trek DS9
Pairing: Garak/Bashir
Rating: G
Notes: For this one.
“Dad…” Oatis warned, looking alarmed.
“I’m fine. No, really. I promise I am fine and will not embarrass you in front of your friends today.” His misty-eyed look was not exactly inspiring confidence.
“Little late for that, Dad. They know you call me Odie.”
“Which is a perfectly reasonable and not at all horrendous nickname for you. You know what my parents called me?”
“Yes. You’ve told me. At least a thousand times.”
“He does have a curious habit of telling the same story over and over again. And he rarely has the decency to make up alternate versions over time to keep it more interesting,” Garak attempted to be reassuring.
“That’s Cardassian for, ‘Your dad never shuts up,’” Kira added, also trying to be reassuring.
Oatis looked up at his third father, who was currently tinkering with a holographic image capture device. “Papa…” he pleaded for help.
“Don’t look at me. I’m only here to operate the camera. If you wanted someone to keep your dad from crying, perhaps you should have invited Uncle Benjamin to accompany us.”
“I heard about what happened when Jake invited him to his post-publication party once Anslem was released. I don’t think he’s the best candidate for keeping Dad from blubbering,” Oatis grumbled.
“I’m not sure there is a good candidate for that sort of thing,” Kira admitted, wrapping an arm around her son’s waist as Bashir gave up his stoic charade and threw his arms around Garak, hiding most of his face against his shoulder.
“Get it out of your system now, dear,” Garak soothed. “He’ll never forgive you if you do this at the ceremony.”
His answer was a meek sniff of agreement.
Odo rolled his eyes behind the image capture device. “I doubt we’ll get a better photo than this-“
“At least wait until he stops wibbling,” Oatis protested.
“Your choices are to take the picture now or wait and chance your dad bursting into actual tears,” Kira pointed out.
Oatis heaved a long suffering sigh, leaning against his father’s other, tear-free shoulder. Next time he was going to graduate from something, he decided, he’d tell his parents six months after the fact.