#also decided to try my hand at a human bill

[s0up1ta]

i hate them so much

[krysmcscience]

Don't mind me, just slacking on a big Billford comic by making other far more ridiculous Billford comics and also some AU art (please excuse my slapdash human!Bill thank you please, also before anyone asks the art style is messy and all over the place because idgaf LOL)

This started out as an excuse to design a Bill Cipher-inspired "wedding" dress, but then spiraled wildly out of control. Various rambles and a bunch more human!Bill arts under the cut, including another silly little comic at the end! (Feel free to skip the rambles, I won't be offended. I know I'm bad at shutting up. XD)

I may or may not write some comedy stuff for this AU, which I'm calling 'For Better Or Worse (But Mostly Worse)'. While Ford DOES remember getting sloshed enough for one thing to lead to making out with another after karaoke, neither he nor Bill remember this wedding, At All. The Love God did nothing to dissuade them from going hog wild on their marriage spending, either, so it got...uh. Exorbitantly Expensive. As in, the grand total could probably buy the entire fucking MOON sort of expensive. (It's fine, don't worry, Bill's good enough at crime to be able to afford it.) Also, because the logic of this AU is mostly dictated by Rule of Funny, the Love God's powers are close to unlimited when it comes to matters of romance, but ONLY when it comes to matters of romance. (Like weddings!)

Want an empty human vessel to smash the soul of a triangle into for date nights or when it's convenient, or perhaps even when it's NOT convenient? Easy peasy! Want the marriage to be recognized in every corner of the multiverse from now until the end of time, thus making any potential future divorce nigh-on impossible? Can do! Want to buy an entire beach for the ceremony and honeymoon and in general, and totally not at all because it would be Super Hilarious to prevent any specific movies from being made on that very same beach in the future? Fine, whatever, it's not his finances he's ruining!

Does the Love God also provide special rings that just so happen to turn incorporeal as long as the "happy couple" doesn't remember that they barged into his dreams to bully him into presiding over their marriage? ...No comment!

He spends the next thirty years trying and failing to get in touch with either of them for payment. This is why you should always demand half the money up front, my guy!

Also it's absolutely a traditional Jewish wedding, because I like the idea of Bill demanding all the keepsakes from the marriage that he paid for, and being completely confused when one of the things he's handed is a fancy container full of broken glass. He gets it later, but in the moment, he thinks the Love God is just fucking with him some more.

Ramble over! Here's the full dress that caused the comic to happen, along with what Ford wound up wearing at the wedding (and begrudgingly agreeing to put on again later for Reasons), aaaaand also a close-up of Bill's ring:

I may have forgotten to draw Bill's hair floofier when drawing the back of the dress, lmao

Since double ring ceremonies have been leaking over into Jewish wedding customs for a while now, Ford also has a ring, but his is the much more traditional plain gold band. There's definitely a message engraved on the inside - embarrassing, cringe, or incriminating somehow - but I haven't decided what it is yet, so use your imagination for now. XD Bill, on the other hand, saw the phrase 'traditional plain gold band' and said "No Thank You" before proceeding to embellish his ring to his liking. And because he's a secret sap who adores Ford's extra fingers, the triangle points add up to twelve, as do the engraved stars. Yes, they're stars, not dots, I just got lazy. There's also six lashes on the eye gem, and probably an eye engraving on the inside with another six lashes. (Bill's got it BAD, okay? We all know this.)

Here are the initial scribbles of Bill's custom vessel in more casual attire, please ignore the wonky anatomy and the fact that I flat out refuse to ever draw him with a proper top hat:

He does actually need a cane in this vessel; since Bill tends to possess men and especially Ford more often than not, he's used to having a higher center of gravity when in a human body, so his ability to balance is pretty garbage. (He may or may not topple over with concerning regularity.) As for his empty eye socket, his bangs don't do much to hide it since he's so high-energy (dude is constantly on the move), and he also refuses to wear a patch over it, because 1.) why bother, and 2.) it's more fun to freak people out.

To better align with Ford's attraction towards the strange, the vessel was designed with super minor shapeshifting ability - Bill can look like a perfectly normal human, but he can also make the teeth and fingers sharper whenever he likes (which is mostly just when he's angry or being more of a menace than usual), as well as slit down the pupils or outright ditch the irises altogether. He can also have whatever he wants in the downstairs department, just because I'm an indecisive bitch on that front, lmao. Maybe he can have boobs if he wants them, too, but I ain't drawin' tits on no triangle, nuh-uh, no sir. His powers are otherwise limited down to what humans can do, because for some reason, the Love God doesn't trust Bill to not snap into Immediate Apocalypse Mode if he's given a physical form that's actually all his and no one else's.

Due to the body being all his and no one else's, it's also not really a standard possession so much as it is just...Bill being temporarily human. He's a lot more aware of and in tune with his human body's senses than he ever was with his "puppets", which makes things like pain a lot more intense. (He is mostly fine with this, because he's a fukken masochist.)

A bit more fashion stuff, including beach and party attire~

The beach outfit was mostly me trying and failing to nail down his body shape, which is still not bottom-heavy enough. I then decided to slap a bikini on it, before making it supremely unsexy with a pair of fugly shorts, because Bill's fashion choices are not allowed to be conventionally attractive. Meanwhile, the party outfit was mostly me looking at the casual attire I designed, asking 'how would Bill make this Worse', and then drawing the result. The mismatched thigh-highs are killing me inside! :D

No, his vessel can't actually summon fire, I just drew it for funzies before I decided on said vessel's limitations. Yes, the gold brick tattoos are absolutely a reference to the fic 'Knowing Me, Knowing You' - I simply could not resist.

I also HAD to draw Bill in one of his canonical(?) shirts, just made tank-top'd:

He is absolutely about to over-correct and fall backwards after this. USE YOUR CANE, GOOFBALL!!! (I meant to draw Bill closer to this degree of bottom-heavy in the other images, but. Alas. I am bad at anatomy, LOL)

And, last but not least before More Comic Time, I attempted to draw him closer to Gravity Falls style:

Jury's out on whether or not I succeeded, but - hey. I tried. Now have some Handyman Bill AU, but with my goofy human design, instead:

Hey, it's a 'mystery snack', and the guy wanted A BITE to eat - the joke was right there, guys!!! (Based on this post, because it just screamed BILL CIPHER to me.)

whoops i forgor bills ring and cracks ahaha too late now

I WILL SHUT UP AND STOP RAMBLING NOW K THX BYYYYYE

[ckret2]

Chapter 34 of human Bill Cipher not making friends with Stan during his imprisonment in the Mystery Shack, featuring: the tooth fairy and her dentist attempting to steal Bill's teeth in the middle of the night. Stan would care a lot less if he weren't still handcuffed to Bill. And also: Stan and Bill have a friendly chat. As you can see.

####

Even though Bill and Stan were trying to watch the same TV as they had dinner, Bill refused to sit in the living room with Stan; so he sat on the bottom step of the stairs in the entryway, Stan perched on the end of the couch, and they strung the handcuffs around the doorway with their little plastic microwave dinner trays balanced on their knees.

Both of their dinners had come out undercooked. Both of them were too proud to complain.

After picking through maybe a third of his meal, Bill decided he'd rather go to bed hungry than eat something he didn't enjoy, dropped his tray on the floor, and kicked it into the kitchen. "Hey Stanley, still glad you went with the cuffs instead of the bracelets?"

"Shut up."

Bill smirked victoriously, and looked back to the TV. "No mayonnaise in Ireland."

"What?"

Bill pointed at the screen and the rows of blank letters waiting for contestants to fill them in. "The round that just started. That's the solution."

"Oh." Stan counted out all the blank letters, frowned, and said unconfidently, "It can't be that. It doesn't make any sense."

"You're wrong," Bill said lightly; and then fell silent, running the tip of his tongue over the new gold spots on his teeth. 

When the contestants had guessed enough letters that one could hesitantly offer, "Is it... 'no mayonnaise in Ireland'?" Bill smirked triumphantly at the sound of Stan's silence. He just barely waited until the next board of blank letters flashed on the screen, and then announced, "Tip your waiter."

Stan counted the letters under his breath. "Man. I thought I was good at this, but we'd clean up if we put you on this show. No one would ever figure out how you're cheating."

Bill laughed. "Listen to you! If you were Ford, you'd just be mad that I'm giving away all the answers before you can guess. That's the great thing about you, Stanley: you don't get irritated at me for stupid little reasons. You're more fun." He took a deep breath and shouted, "Hey Ford, did you hear that?! Stan's the fun twin—!"

"Keep it down, you idiot. Ford's in the basement, he can't hear you." Stan had thought Bill was finally sobering up from the sedative; maybe not. (Then again, maybe this was just what he was like sober.) "And what are you talking about? You irritate me all the time!"

"Oh, well, I guess I just don't care when you're irritated." Bill laughed.

Stan grumbled, planted his chin in his hand, and tried to focus on Cash Wheel. It was difficult when he already knew the solution.

He tolerated the silence for less than a minute before sighing, looking toward the doorway, and demanding, "What's with you, anyway? Why are you so obsessed with my brother?"

Bill spluttered in disbelief. Stan could feel his handcuff chain jerk over. Voice even shriller than usual, Bill said, "Excuse m—Excuse me?! Obsessed? Moi?! I don't know what you're talking about!" He forced a loud laugh.

"If Ford's in the room, he's the only one you talk to, and when he isn't here you're yelling across the house for him—"

"Is it obsession to sometimes pay a little more attention to the human here I happen to know best and to whom I happen to be a teacher, muse, and friend—"

"Oh that's a load of bull," Stan snapped, "you're not any of those things! Friend? Friend? He wants you dead, you crazy—"

"Well if he does," Bill said, louder still, "then wouldn't it make perfect sense to keep my eye on the guy who killed me? There's no big mystery—"

"That's it! That's just it!" Stan tossed down his TV dinner and stood so he could face Bill properly. "He didn't kill you alone, remember? That was a two-man con you fell for! But you keep talking like Ford was the only one there!"

Without bothering to stand, Bill looked up at Stan and said, quite confidently, "Only one person killed me. You're just the place where I was killed."

"I wh...?" Stan fell silent, blinking at Bill in disbelief.

"Do you even remember what happened inside your brain? After you took my hand?" Bill asked. "You don't, do you?"

Stan glowered at Bill, but he shut his mouth and said nothing.

"I knew it." Bill laughed nastily. "We were both trapped in there when Fordsy fired the gun. Completely powerless. You were weeping and begging for a way out when the flames got too close, but there was nothing I could do by then—"

"All right," Stan took a threatening step closer, "I know that that didn't happen! I would never—"

Bill leaned back, hands raised palm out in appeasement, "Okay okay okay! All right, you got me—just embellishing the story a little—we actually had a big psychic laser battle. Imagined up all kinds of futuristic weapons. It was very 90's action movie. You did... fine, you were fine."

Stan considered that. "Ehh... sure, that sounds more like me."

"But it was all imaginary," Bill snapped. "It was a vast illusion! At that point there was nothing either of us could do to the other. We were just two victims locked inside a burning house as it came down around us. You didn't kill me, you never even had the power to kill me."

"Huh." That was all Stan said. But he kept looking at Bill, frowning distrustfully, studying him.

Bill's shoulders slowly went up under the pressure of Stan's gaze. "Oh—oh wow, okay, I see what's going on!" He gave Stan a crooked, mean smile. "You're jealous, aren't you? You thought offering up your body to be the scene of a murder finally made you a co-star instead of a sidekick! All your lives, Stanford got more attention from daddy, more attention from the teachers, more attention from the whole world... and you thought you'd finally get at least a little attention from the big bad living nightmare. Just because you let your brother shoot you in the head!" Bill laughed. "You weren't special enough for anyone else—why do you think you're special enough for me?"

Stan jerked Bill to his feet by the handcuff's chain. "I bet I'm special enough to break your face!" He dragged him into the living room, fist raised. "Let's see if you stay down this time—"

Bill scrambled back as far as the chain allowed him. "NO!" Horror filled the one ragged syllable. His free arm was raised to shield his terrified eye.

They froze, staring at each other.

Bill straightened up, forcing a nervous, rattled laugh. "Come on, I just got all this dental work done. At least give me a couple days to enjoy it before you pound it in!" He was talking fast to fill the silence. "Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind having a flatter face, all these bones and cartilage jutting out never did feel right—"

Stan feigned a punch.

Bill flinched.

Stan laughed at him, slapping his knee. "You big chicken! Look at you! Baw-baaawk-bgawk! HA!"

Bill tried, very hard, to explode Stan with his brain. This usually worked on people who dared try to insult Bill Cipher. "If I had one billionth of a billionth of my power, I'd have already destroyed you—!"

"But you don't, sucker!" Stan laughed louder.

Bill screamed in frustration, turned his back on Stan, and stomped upstairs to sulk.

Or, he would have, if he hadn't gotten one step up the stairs before the handcuffs yanked tight. He stumbled back, landed on his butt, and inadvertently jerked Stan down on one knee with a yelp.

Bill cast a resentful look at Stan—who was rubbing his shoulder and finally looking as irritated as Bill felt—and then he lay down and deliberately stared straight at the ceiling. "Whatever. I don't even care about your pointless mammal posturing. It's fine. It doesn't bother me. I'm calm. You're just making yourself look stupid." Bill shut his eyes. "I wanna go to bed."

####

"Bill," Ford said.

Bill cracked open an eye and peered up at the form looming over his makeshift cushion bed. "Mrm?"

In a very calm voice that suggested he was not calm at all, Ford asked, "Why are you sleeping on the floor in front of my bedroom door."

"Oh. Right, you missed it." Bill yawned and sat up. "Well, you see, Stanley got us handcuffed together until tomorrow morning," he pointed at his cuffed wrist and rattled the chain, "and I tried to be accommodating, but he doesn't want to sleep in the attic and won't let me sleep in the guest room—"

Stan yelled through the door, "And Mr. Accommodating here still refuses to sleep on the sofa bed."

"—so the best compromise we've got is sleeping on the floor with the chain under the door. Not my idea of a fun evening, but." Bill shrugged ruefully, like an adult resigned to indulging the whims of a petulant child. "Do you want in? It'll take us a little coordination to get the door open, but we've already done this once, so—"

"I'm not messing with this," Ford said. "I'm sleeping in the basement. Good night, Stanley."

"Night, Ford."

Trying not to sound miffed at being snubbed, Bill said, "Hey, do you still keep your cot on that rug you used to channel me better?" He laughed.

"Nope. I burned that rug." Ford turned the corner and left.

Bill stuck his tongue out at his back. He didn't actually know whether Ford was lying. He wished he'd thought to check out Ford's study before heading down to the portal back when he'd had his time tape.

"Hey." He rapped on the bedroom door. "I thought we weren't asking Sixer for help so he wouldn't find out about the handcuffs." They hadn't actually discussed it, but he'd taken it for granted. "Now that he knows, why aren't we getting his help?"

"What, you think I need his help to solve all my problems? Ha!"

"Okay, fine. Doesn't matter to me, I'm used to sleeping on the floor." Bill lay back down and sighed.

He shut his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

####

Bill wasn't quite dreaming, but for a few seconds it was something very close to a dream. He saw points of light in darkness. One of his earliest, oldest memories. He'd memorized the constellations outside of his plain when his starblind species didn't even have a word for "constellations."

But these weren't those points of light in darkness. Some nearer, some farther—he could sense their distance—and all of the lights were calling to him. All of his eyes. He could see so many more than he had last night.

One was just a few inches away. He could almost reach out and grab it. 

But those few seconds of light-in-darkness were in the gray twilight between the dreamscape and the physical world, and Bill only fleetingly glimpsed them as he passed from sleep back to wakefulness. He opened his eyes.

To see a person looming over him.

And the taste of thick metal tools in his mouth.

"Hi," Bill said, for lack of anything better to say under these circumstances.

It was enough to make Dr. Illing gasp and stumble back from Bill. "Jeez." He clapped a hand over his heart. "I'm sorry— I-I didn't want to—"

"Uh-huh." Bill sat up and took the abandoned tool out of his mouth—pliers. They'd been gently clamped around one of his canine teeth. "Not the most unpleasant thing I've had aimed at my face in the middle of the night," Bill mused, "but it's pretty high on the list." He tried to lift his other hand to feel his face for damage—and only remembered the handcuff when the rattling chain caught his wrist in place.

They both looked at the cuff. As Dr. Illing realized Bill was trapped, a change came over his face—a desperate, crazed fury.

Bill shook his head. "Ohhh, no no no—"

"Give me that!" Dr. Illing lunged for Bill, one hand reaching toward the pliers and the other toward his throat, trying to pin him against the door.

Bill shoved his feet in Dr. Illing's chest, trying to hold him back. "Stanley!" He pounded on the door with the pliers. "We have visitors, wake up!"

"It'll only take a second," Dr. Illing insisted. "You were going to give me one anyway! And that tooth is already loose! You can handle the pain! Just—hold still, I can't damage it!" He managed to get his thumb in Bill's mouth—he cringed when Bill bit down, but didn't back off—and pulled a fresh set of pliers out of his tool bag.

Bill parried the pliers with his own pair. "STAAAN—"

The door unlatched and Bill tumbled backward into the room. He twisted out of the dentist's way, slid the handcuff chain out from under the door, and skittered behind Stan.

"Wha—what's—?" Stan squinted into the dark hallway. "The heck's going on?"

Bill stretched to Stan's nightstand and grabbed up his glasses and hearing aids. "Put your face on!" He shoved them in Stan's hands, then reached back for his dentures.

Stan put his glasses on first. "What the— Illing? What are you doing here?"

Dr. Illing stood forlorn in the hallway, trembling all over, eyeing Stan nervously. "Uhhh," he said eloquently. "I just..." He gestured around Stan's shoulder toward Bill, "wanted to check her fillings. I thought one of them might be a little loose—"

Bill's cackle cut through his excuses. "Oh, come on! I know your boss put you up to this! What does the little lady want with my mouth?"

Dr. Illing's eyes widened. All he managed to produce was a squeak.

Stan said, "What 'little lady,' this guy's self-employed. What are you talking about—"

"The tooth fairy, genius!" Bill flung his free hand in the air. "Why did you think your dentist pays you to pull your teeth! He lives in a van, who'd you think was funding him?!"

"Uh," Stan said. "You know, I sort of just took his whole 'creepy sadist who bribes people to let him pull their teeth' shtick at face value." (Dr. Illing's shoulders slumped.) "But—I know things are weird around here, but the tooth fairy's gotta be fake, right? That's the stupidest..."

A fairy popped out of Dr. Illing's bag—just large enough to use an adult man's hand like a chair, with a bob cut so white it almost shone, giving off a glowing toothpaste-blue aura, wearing a necklace of baby teeth like a hunter who'd taken trophies from the bones of her kills.

"Oh," Stan said. "Well. Never mind. Just one more crazy thing in this town."

Bill's back went stiff, his eyes widened, and he curled his fists into the fabric of Stan's tank top like he was holding his shield in place. "Oh, she's here." He lisped an inhuman swear under his breath.

Ignoring them, the tooth fairy glowered up at Dr. Illing. "How did they know? What did you tell them!"

"Nothing!" he protested. "I swear! I'd never!"

"Well, you must have let something slip—"

Bill swallowed hard; but then he straightened up, let go, and stepped into the open. "Why, if it isn't Miss Pearl E. White, in the fae flesh! To what do I owe such an honor?"

Dr. Illing and the fairy both flinched. She asked, "How do you know my...?"

"Oh, Pearl. I know things you couldn't even dream of." Bill favored her with his best, widest, most unnerving grin.

And got the creeping sense that she'd stopped looking at his face, and started staring at his teeth. He pressed his lips together. "And here's just one thing I know: lady, if you were toeing the line of your treaty any harder, you'd be tripping across it. So tell me what you're doing here and what you want."

She huffed defensively, wings buzzing as they lifted her several inches in the air. "I'm well within the terms of the treaty! I haven't laid a hand on you and I'm not about to start, and I've been offering more than adequate financial compensation—"

"Oh, right," Bill laughed, "I'm sure the queen of your court would be thrilled to hear you ordered your legally-dubious helper to rip out someone's teeth in the dead of night—"

"Hi," Stan said, "question. What the hey are you guys talking about. Treaties? Queens?"

"Oh, this is all going over your head, isn't it! I'll catch you up." He turned to the side to point accusingly at Pearl, "Little miss enamel-happy here has a thing for teeth. To the extent that she started stealing them straight out of humans' mouths. She went so crazy that the local human settlements actually declared war on her court over her dental kleptomania—and the fairies she dragged into the conflict weren't any happier about it than the humans were. So now, under the conditions of a human-fairy peace treaty, she's only allowed to acquire already freed teeth that are voluntarily offered to her by their owners—which is why she started bribing children."

Pearl crossed her arms, fuming. "That's a very biased version of events. You're just trying to paint me in the worst possible—"

"Save it, sparkles! I woke up with your minion's pliers in my mouth, I'll be as biased as I want!" He shifted his attention to Dr. Illing—who seemed to wilt under the force of Bill's glare. "But she's getting deep in a gray area working with this guy. Once a tooth is handed to a dentist, he's its 'owner,' and can freely give that tooth to the tooth fairy—but him extracting the tooth puts the whole operation on shaky legal ground. Really, I think the only reason you've gotten away with this racket so long is because nobody's filed a legal challenge with the fairy court yet."

"Nobody's complained about it," Pearl said hotly.

"None of your victims know about it," Bill countered. "Hey Fisherman," he jabbed Stan's arm, "how do you feel knowing your teeth were sacrificed to the tooth fairy?"

He considered that. "Well—it was free."

Pearl crowed, "Ha!"

Ignoring Stan's reply, Bill blithely moved on: "But by any reading of the treaty, hiring a human to steal teeth straight out of someone's mouth is beyond the pale. So you'd better have a good explanation for this!"

"Yeah. I do have a good explanation." She sucked in a deep breath. "I want your teeth!" She launched herself toward Bill; Dr. Illing had to grab her around the waist to hold her back. "I'd do anything for those teeth! They're the most amazing teeth I've ever seen!" She clawed at the air, hissing and straining as she tried to reach Bill.

"My lady, please," Dr. Illing said pathetically. "The treaty—"

She aimed a swipe at his face. "I know about the stupid treaty!"

Bill stared at her, baffled. His perfectly normal human teeth? But he shook his head, smiled, and said, "Well okay, fantastic! It's been a while since I've bargained with the fae, but I'm not too attached to this body—so how much gold do you have on you, kid?"

"We're not bargaining. You already know too much," Pearl snapped. "I'm not about to get blackmailed by a human, and I'm not going back to fairy jail. So here's what's happening." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward Dr. Illing. "I'm gonna have my guy rip out every one of your teeth, and then rip your head apart so you can't talk, and the only negotiating you get to do is whether or not my guy uses the local anesthetic before he starts. So what's it gonna be?"

Dr. Illing went deathly pale and his knees shook as he verged on fainting.

"Hey," Stan waved at the fairy, "listen, I'd love to see this guy's head get ripped apart, but—crazy thing, long story—it turns out there's fifty-fifty odds that killing him could end the world. So, maybe let's talk this out—?"

Pearl gestured dismissively at Stan. "His mouth has nothing left of interest to me. He's a witness. Kill him, too."

Dr. Illing swallowed hard; but, with trembling hand, he reached into his tool bag and slowly pulled out a large power drill that definitely wasn't designed for teeth.

"Right," Bill said. "Okay. This'll be fun." If he said it convincingly enough, maybe it would be true. "Hey, Fisher—you know that spell Sixer's got on me? If I cast it on Frankie here, can you..."

"Yeah, I see where you're going."

Pearl's eyes narrowed. She pounded her tiny fist on Dr. Illing's finger. "Hurry up, before they—"

Before she could issue a warning, Stan charged at them, fist raised. Dr. Illing flinched, shielding his face with the drill; but Stan dodged around him, heading for the hall. Bill seized Dr. Illing's upper arm as he passed—"Amnesia Limina, Stupidi Digiti, Occultus Locus!"—and then Stan yanked Bill out into the hall by their chain and slammed the bedroom door.

Dr. Illing gasped. "What?"

Blue light radiated through the cracks around the door as Pearl darted around, shrieking, "Open the door, you idiot!"

There was a moment of futile scrabbling. "How?!"

Bill and Stan retreated to the entryway. Bill said, "If we get outside, we can lose 'em."

"Or get the car and run them over," Stan said.

"You don't wanna be the guy who kills the tooth fairy! She might be in the doghouse, but she's still old fae nobility. Her court would—"

Bill cut off as Stan opened the door. Instead of leading to the porch and the forest beyond, it now opened into a bone-colored cathedral, the arches and vaulted ceilings constructed out of what looked like small irregular pebbles: teeth.

Stan gaped at the vast chamber. "Where the heck...?"

Bill looked at what had once been the outside of the door; the numbers "13 / 32" were carved into the wood. "Nowhere we want to go! Shut it!"

Stan slammed the door.

"That explains how she got in," Bill muttered. "There's no time to un-enchant this exit, we'll need another one."

Stan pointed toward the living room. "We can go out the—"

"The floor room exit." Bill dragged Stan back toward the hallway they'd just left.

"What?! That's the other end of the house, you idiot, the gift shop's right through here!"

"But it's a straight shot down the hall—" Bill stumbled to a stop.

The tooth fairy was clawing her way out from under the bedroom door. She caught sight of Bill, and her wings raised in a sharp V like a wasp preparing to attack. "You!"

"Never mind."

Stan dragged Bill back toward the living room. "Now can we go—"

Bill saw the living room—that familiar dark room, the familiar walls and carpet, the familiar armchair facing the doorway as though welcoming him back, the pale blue light from the fish tank climbing the walls like flames—and Stanley Pines, dragging Bill by a chain toward this tomb—and he grabbed on to the staircase railing. "Up."

Stan jerked to a stop. "That's a dead end!" He tried again to pull Bill toward the living room. "Are you insane?!"

"Yes." Bill locked his hand around the railing like a corpse in rigor mortis. He'd break his fingers before he let go. "We're going up."

"We are not—"

The tooth fairy shot past them like a glowing blue bullet, streaking into the kitchen. Stan started, and Bill took the opportunity to drag them up the stairs. Stan finally followed.

"You're not getting out of here with my teeth!" Pearl screamed after them.

"Ignore her," Bill muttered, "she can't risk touching us and she knows it. She's powerless without her minion." He stumbled on a step and just kept climbing on all fours.

"I wouldn't bet on her self control!" Stan struggled to keep up, his cuffed wrist in the lead. "Why are we going this way? How do you expect to get out from the attic?!"

"I don't know! It just seemed like a better idea! Do I have to think of everything?!"

"This was your plan!"

"There's got to be a ladder in the storage over the kids' room, we can get down out a window."

"I don't keep ladders—!"

"Well maybe Jesús does, do you know everything in the attic?! Come on!"

Bill kicked the door to the kids' room until Stan opened it. After a short argument about who should climb to the storage loft ("I have to look, you can't see in the dark!" "And you can?! Since when!" "Since always! You didn't need to know!"), Bill scrambled up the makeshift rungs nailed to the wall while Stan climbed halfway up to give the handcuffs a little slack.

As Bill started searching for anything useful, Pearl's ranting filled the shack: "Those teeth are too good for you!"

"I think she's getting closer," Stan said. "Find anything?"

"Not yet." Bill pulled out a broken umbrella with a hooked handle. He clung to it like it was his only defense as he scanned the loft for any signs of a ladder.

Pearl went on, "They're the most beautiful, pristine, unblemished, perfect teeth I've ever seen in my life!"

Bill asked, "Are they really that great?" He'd never paid that close attention.

"Eh..." Stan shrugged and made a so-so gesture with one hand. "A little weird-looking, honestly. They've got those jagged bits in the front that make 'em look like kids' teeth?"

"Huh."

"They're pure," Pearl snarled. "I've never seen adult teeth so pure! And you're ruining them by drilling out chunks of perfect enamel for unnecessary fillings! You don't have the right to those teeth! I deserve them!"

"Hey Bill," Stan said. "So you knew my dentist works for the tooth fairy, right?"

Bill was dragging aside a large box to see if anything ladder-like was hiding behind it. "Yes."

"And you knew she goes crazy for nice teeth."

"Yes." No ladder; he moved to another stack of boxes.

"And it didn't occur to you that she'd be furious that you carved up your new teeth."

"It's in the past, Stanley! Focus on the present!"

"—and I don't even know how you got magic teeth," Pearl continued. "Fully adult teeth in a fully adult mouth, but somehow they're barely a month old! It's impossible! I could barely believe it myself until I saw your mouth with my own two eyes! I must have those teeth, as soon as possible, so I can preserve them exactly like this, who knows if I'll ever find such a novelty again—"

"Ahh, so that's it," Bill said. "Welp, nope, didn't see that one coming at all."

"She's been shouting a while without actually coming after us," Stan pointed out. "What's she up to?"

Bill paused. "Check." He lay down and stretched his cuffed arm down from the loft to give Stan enough slack to peer out the bedroom door.

Stan frowned. "Huh. Weird."

"She's upstairs?"

"Yeah. But she's just flying in a circle. With... I think a veggie container from the fridge?"

Bill sucked in a breath. "Do we have mushrooms?"

"Wh—yeah? How'd you..."

"What!" Bill half-climbed half-fell to the attic floor. "That little cheater's making a fairy ring! That's not fair!" He leaned out the door with Stan. "She's probably already made the matching ring downstairs. We have to destroy it before—"

The circle of chopped portobello mushrooms glowed white; and with a glittery puff, Dr. Illing appeared in the ring.  He coughed out a lungful of fairy dust.

Pearl pointed at Stan and Bill and screamed, "Get them!" With a murderous scowl and terrified eyes, Dr. Illing stared them down and revved his drill.

Stan yanked Bill back into the bedroom and slammed the door.

Dr. Illing whined. "Aw, f—again?!"

"Just break through it!" Pearl commanded. "It's just wood! You have power tools!"

"He can't do that," Bill said confidently. "Doors don't work like that."

Stan said, "He can do that." A power tool whine announced Dr. Illing beginning his assault on the door.

"Oh." Bill considered that, eyes scanning the bedroom from one side to the other, mouth set in a grim line. "I have an idea." He pointed toward the window with his umbrella. "Stan, open the window." He hooked the umbrella over his elbow as he ripped the bedsheets off Dipper's bed and started tying the corners together.

Stan shook his head in disbelief. "You don't really expect us to climb out that window on bedsheets, do you?"

Bill dragged Stan closer and murmured in his ear, just quiet enough that their assailants wouldn't hear him over the power drill, "No, I expect them to think we climbed out the window, while we hide in the closet in the alcove. Once they're past us to check the window, we can sneak out and run downstairs."

"I don't like hiding like cowards instead of fighting. Illing's rickety, we can take him."

Bill kept tying bedsheets. He picked up Dipper's zodiac blanket, flinched, and tossed it to the floor on the other side of Dipper's bed rather than add it to his chain. "Funny—you didn't seem to have any problem hiding for a week while I had your brother prisoner."

Stan grabbed Bill by the shirt, dragging him closer. "You wanna say that again?"

Bill's hands shot up next to his face in surrender. "Sorry, sorry, sorry—"

"There were people in this shack I wanted to keep safe," Stan growled. "I'm not half as fond of you."

"Got it," Bill squeaked. He pointed toward Mabel's bed. "But I can see a dozen futures that end with our brains splattered across Mabel's dolls. I do not want to fight power tools."

There was a crack as the drill flung the first few splinters of wood free from the door. Stan's scowl deepened, but he let go of Bill and nodded.

They tied the bedsheet rope to a table leg, opened the window, and flung the rope out the window; then retreated into the alcove at the other end of the room, pulled shut the ragged curtain that hid it, and closed themselves in the closet to wait for the tooth fairy and Dr. Illing to break in.

####

(Thanks for reading!! If y'all enjoyed, I'd love to hear what y'all think! Next week we conclude both with the tooth fairy and with whatever the heck is going on between Stan & Bill.)

[beartitled]

I think Normal Bill is almost just as intelligent and knowledgeable as his canon counterpart, since he had more time to focus on science and such instead of chaos and despair and.. just about every problem in the book.

Can he also still see through trees and The All Seeing Eye on the dollar bill?

Does he have all the powers of Canon Bill?

How does he feel about Ford and Dipper?

What would he think if he saw his parents?

And.. how does he feel about all the.. imagery of him throughout the world? (Remember how Ford had a fucking golden statue of him? And with the cave paintings.. and the dollar bill, the pyramids have a vague eye shape on them (since canonically they were statues of Bill until the top hat and hands fell off) The Eye Of Providence being a sign for God.. yeah it’s REALLY suspicious, I don’t think he really trusts the Pines family at this point, because they are horrible at hiding things, you don’t need to be an all seeing god to know that.

(Sorry for the long rant, I just love this AU)

Don’t apologise for a rant 🫵 I love rants, my brain just can’t comprehend them sometimes 💥

And also aww 🥹 glad you enjoy this AU ❤️

Okay lemme try answering 👏

First yes, absolutely, he’s a smart boi

His energy is just in the nerd stuff now, instead of chaotic insane vibes he has in the canon

Yea and I think he considers it normal lmao

“Wait what do you mean you don’t see through trees Mabel? Like.. I thought everyone did??”

He’s a smart boi, but he is oblivious in some instances

Not sure about all powers, but some for sure

Also this Bill walks everywhere, bc he never saw humans fly and didn’t consider trying (maybe he saw one human attempt it and decided to never try it himself 💀)

I honestly not really sure

Again not my initial idea, but remember one person saying that Bill would have some intrusive thoughts about Pines time to time, not understanding where they come from and probably feeling really guilty about those

But ultimately I think he would consider them a semi family to him

If y’all want a more detailed answer

He’s probably the closest to Mabel, bc she’s a forgiving person and treats Bill as a new person

This version of Bill would be in a girls squad and hang out with them during sleepovers (he’s a gossip girl come on 💅)

Dipper would still be cautious around Bill (as well as Ford), but would get used to him over time forming some sort of brotherly bond

Also Bill would ship Dipper and Pacifica, occasionally playing cupid for them during Dipper crushing on Wendy

He saw an opportunity to tease Dipper (and he said it would be a good enemies to lovers trope)

When people said “Stan would’ve taken that shot” yea, he would kill the child

But perhaps after seeing Mabel being buds with Bill, he just might be a little less defensive

It could both ways really: either Stan would be completely against Bill, but grow to tolerate his presence with occasional (semi)friendly bullying; or Stan would double down and just actively trying to kick Bill out

Either way they would have some sort of rivalry for sure

He would be buds with Soos and Wendy, just chilling with em on the occasion

And the last but not least Ford

He would be the most paranoid and cautious, not because he’s afraid of Bill like Dipper, but because Ford is afraid of “trigger the old Bill inside”

He and Dipper had an agreement to hide all possible information that could potentially remind Bill about his old self (all the Pines agreed to it too to some extent)

Were they successful in it? Who’s to say

Bill obliviousness saved em a bunch of times

And to address the elephant in the room: no, Billford does not exist in this AU

*booing can be heard across the fandom space* NO, YOU’RE NOT GETTING OLD MAN YAOI ON THIS ONE

🍅💥🐻‍❄️ *tiny bear screaming*

Anyway

I just don’t think it would be fitting in that particular scenario

Don’t get me wrong I like canon Billford (I love the memes and the fact that they are implied to be canon exes is hilarious), but canon Billford

This particular AU just makes the situation incredibly specific 💥

I tried to imagine a scenario where Billford could happen (like i dunno, they gave baby Bill to Oracle and then met his “normal” version)

But with the direction in which this AU went, I think it’s best to leave Ford and Bill with a platonic/parental relationship

To be fair it would be incredibly weird to raise your ex in a baby form 😭💥

But I never actually considered to continue this AU originally, so um 💥💥

I think Ford would just eventually start treating Bill like Mabel: he’s a new person now and to keep that new person undamaged, you need to keep a lot of information hidden (for everyone’s and Bill’s own sake)

This version of Bill and Ford would get along, bc they would both be nerds

(btw Bill’s design is similar to Ford, bc this is how nerds look 🤓💅/silly) (but you can adapt it in a way that Ford just had an influence on Bill, they have a family nerd look™️)

I’m still not sure what kind of time paradox shenanigans the went through to raise Bill tho 💥

This

Honestly I think it would be hilarious if he just thought it was some different guy

“A triangle… with one eye… what if.. naaaah I don’t have a top-hat”

Anyway thank u for the ask ❤️ hope it was fun to read through💥

[starseneyes]

Garashir - Julian Bashir / Elim Garak - Deep Space 9

Yes, I'm doing it. After weeks of my poor husband listening to me rant and rave about these two, I decided it was time to start a Meta following their relationship and what wasn't and could have been if TPTB had let these two experience a fully formed romantic relationship rather than one told in between furtive glances and flitting flirtations.

I was quite young when Deep Space 9 aired, but I remember gravitating very heavily toward Julian Bashir. His character underwent such growth, and Siddig El Fadil (as I memorized his name when I was a child, now billed as Alexander Siddig) was mezmerizing.

Little Rachel didn't catch every episode, so I missed a lot of Andrew Robinson as Garak, but watching as an adult I am in awe of the charismatic performance that birthed out of one heckuva interestingly written first scene.

Where will this go? Oh, everywhere! And I'm ever so glad to go there with you.

I wouldn't think a 30-year-old show would need a spoiler warning, but just in case: Spoilers abound for those who dare to dive in. Everything. In totality. Even a bit about Star Trek: Lower Decks.

Shall we?

Before we begin with the meeting of two spectacular characters, I want to preface that I am well-aware that Siddig and Robinson were onboard from moment one and that they acted the hell out of it.

I think it's absolutely beautiful that these two have been the champions of this relationship, and it makes it all the more fun to write a meta like this—knowing that a lot of the microexpressions I tend to latch onto naturally were intentional. Oh, that makes this even more fun!

"It's Doctor Bashir, isn't it? Of course it is. May I introduce myself?" "Uhhhh, yes. Yes. Of course."

From moment one, Bashir is flustered. Yes, we could say he has a degree of excitement about meeting a supposed spy, but there's something in the way these two hold one another's gazes before Garak even opens his mouth that's intriguing.

Thanks to Robinson's openess about his character, we know that Garak was DTF. But Bashir is on the receiving end of this attention and affection, and unsure how to respond to it.

Now, I don't think this is is because our dear doctor is not open to attraction between himself and a being who is not female-presenting, but more because he truly believes this being to be a spy.

Can you trust the flirtations of someone skilled in the art of espionage? This is something Bashir will have to chew on for some time. He just doesn't know it, yet.

"My name is Garak. A Cardassian by birth, obviously."

And there's the moment Bashir looks the man up and down. But, why? It's such a minor thing, but it catches my attention every time, mostly because I know it was a choice on Siddig's part. Bashir looked this alien up and down while trying to figure him out.

Garak invites himself to sit across from the handsome doctor, stating much of the obvious while attempting to draw Bashir out.

"You are new to this station, I believe." "I-I-I am, yes."

Bashir is stammering. And it reminds me of my Middle child. Middle is Autistic, and stammering often happens when he's worked up about something, or really excited.

Bashir then places his elbows on the table... and immediately encounters the plant. He tries to bat it away, but becomes so embarassed he puts his hands back down on the table.

"Though, though I understand you've been here for quite a while." "Ah! You know of me, then."

Garak is noticeably delighted. No doubt, he thinks this awareness smooths the way for him to be even more forward with the object of his desire.

Bashir defers to tea and tries to order Garak some, while Garak basks in the attentive nature of this human he's spied. No doubt, he's wondering just how attentive the good doctor is in other areas of his life.

"As you may also know, I have a clothing shop nearby, so if you should require any apparel, or simply wish as I do, for a bit of enjoyable company now and then, I'm at your disposal, doctor."

Translation: I want to drape you in the sexiest clothes, then disrobe you, and I'll do it anytime you like, just let me know. What, that wasn't what you heard?!

"You're very kind, Mr. Garak."

Kind. It's a word that will come back (though not for another season or so) between these two.

"Oh, it's just Garak. Plain simple, Garak."

Plain and Simple will come back, too. I have to give the writers so much credit for bringing both these things back around later on in the series.

"I'm so glad to have made such an interesting new friend."

He places his hands on Bashir's shoulders, that right hand taking its time as the fingers settle and the human watches them, wondering precisely what he's feeling as it rushes through him in waves. Excitement? Attraction? Danger? All three?!

Hopeful he's gotten his meaning across, Garak leaves the nice doctor be. But the impression of the conversation stays with Bashir as a series of emotions and reactions flash across his features.

Yes, there's the excitement of a young man with flights of fancy thinking he's met a spy. But there's also a "What the hell was that!?" that flits across his face as he tries to process all the things he simultaneously felt.

Amongst the other emotions, there was a definite attraction and desire for this Cardassian he's never met. There was something about him that was intriguing from moment one.

The human has always liked aliens, as we recall from his experiences when his parents first took him away to be "reconditioned" as a child. He was excited to see so many different aliens, then, and his work as a Doctor allows him to encounter many different species.

But this Cardassian showered him in compliments that disarmed him and left this seemingly smooth ladies' man stammering and grasping for composure. That he could be so easily stripped bare of the arrogance that encapsulated early Bashir characterization is no accident.

The actors gave us this gift in their very first scene together with no idea if they would ever meet, again. At this point, Robinson was a one-episode guest star on the show. It doesn't matter. Both he and Siddig performed the hell out of this.

Later, Julian spies Garak out for a drink. And the way the camera finds him alone in a corner lends a sense of loneliness and isolation to the Cardassian. Even the separation of us from him by the bars in the establishing shot seem to block him out, somewhat.

"And how are you this evening, Mr Garak?"

Dear sweet Julian is on the hunt for a spy, but Garak is simply happy to spot the spry, young Doctor, again. The way "enhance my evening" drips off his tongue tastes of that carnal want in the gentlest of ways.

"Ah, plain simple Garak. How are you today?" "Being observant, Doctor." "I'm sure of it."

That giggle Siddig puts into the performance is just delicious. It feels lived in and earnest.

And then these two have the first of many standing conversations—where the meaning of personal space does not exist. Yes, they were dealing with a 4:3 ratio, but there's a difference between tight quarters and kissing range.

"Come in quickly, Doctor, you're late."

Garak is man-handling his human, but there's a reason for it. And poor, dear Julian actually holds up the suit jacket to see if he likes it. I don't know if that was the actor choice or the script, but it genuinely made me laugh.

This episode aired January 1993, which means it was likely shot in late 1992. The next time the two would work together would be on Season 2's "Cardassians", which aired in October of the same year.

This time, it's Julian who notices Garak sitting alone, drinking from a matching mug begging for its pairing to join it.

"Ah, Tarkalean Tea, again, doctor?"

Nicely done, DS9 writers. Calling back to that first meeting where Bashir offered Garak some tea, saying it was good.

Also, this casual acknowledgement suggests there've been some more interactions that have gone unseen by us in the meantime. It's been 9 months in the real world since last they saw one another, so it isn't unrealistic to imagine.

But the writer of this scene quickly roots us in some kind of a casual relationship that has developed since last Garak set his sights on the doctor. It's expertly done, and while it's not related entirely to the performance, I have to call it out because it's so well done.

Bashir starts fishing, again, about the spy he believes Garak to be. And while Garak plays along a little (because he clocks it immediately), he does tire of it.

"Really, Doctor? Must we always play this game?"

Again, I wanna smooch the screenwriter. This is the 90's, y'all. This is just coming off an era where Riker and Troi were seemingly a couple one episode and the next they were making eyes at other people as if they didn't know one another.

This was an era where episodes were essentially still written in a bottle without continuous storylines because the goal was to establish television that allowed Drop In viewers to join the show at any point without needing previous knowledge to understand every nuance.

Deep Space 9 was famous for bringing continuous story-telling to the forefront of Star Trek with the Dominion War, among other things.

But even here in Season 2, someone on that writing team understood the importance of the relationship between these characters so intimately that they sneaked in lines to establish a history unseen by the audience. That's mind-blowingly masterful and deserves attention.

"I'm no more a spy than you are-" "A doctor."

Ooh, is that a little bitchiness coming off of Bashir here? Me gusta! It's so much more attractive here when aimed at the charismatic Cardassian than when employed in attempted seductions of Daxes.

"What else can I do to convince you I'm just-" "Plain, simple Garak?"

Again, calling back to 9 months earlier at a time when most of us were still recording episodes on VHS and mailing them cross-country in tape exchanges coordinated by a burgeoning internet that consisted of IRC, ICQ, and AOL's Buddy Chat. This is artfully done.

"And a bite on the hand is certainly worth saving a boy's life, wouldn't you say?" "I suppose it depends on whose hand. Just joking, Doctor."

Bashir huffs out the slightest laugh at that. But as they speak, the topic turns to Gul Dukat, and Garak gives the good Doctor an education. One that Bashir attempts to use in a verbal confrontation with Gul Dukat that goes nowhere.

"He's lying." "Is that an opinion, or do you have evidence to support it?" "I have Garak."

This is intriguing to me. Because, in the first scene of the episode, as Garak and Bashir sipped drinks and chatted, Bashir brought up the issue of "trust".

On nothing but the word of a Cardassian he casually knows, Bashir inserted himself into a conversation to which he was no part and got himself duly told off by his superior officer.

One could say that he was foolhardy to so readily believe the man he has correctly deduced to be involved in espionage. But, there's something at a chemical level about these two that cannot be denied. And the next scene shows it all the more.

Bashir tosses and turns in bed, something interfering with his peaceful slumber. He starts himself awake and sits up to see Garak sitting patiently, watching him sleep, waiting for him to wake.

"Come, Doctor."

Woah, there, Nelly. I know you like to be forward, Garak, but did you really need to be that obvious?! There'll be plenty of time for that later.

"Get dressed."

I'm sorry. Are we implying that Garak is just gonna... chill in Bashir's quarters while he unbuttons that non-regulation looking night shirt and nothing's gonna happen between the two of them?

I mean, I suppose there's a reality where Garak is too worried about this Cardassian War Orphan to take advantage of the moment, but I'm certain he is not going to waste the opportunity to enjoy the view.

"We need to be going." "Going? Going where?" "To Bajor."

And on nothing more than that, the good Doctor suits up, wakes his superior officer (who just told him off) and requests a Runabout.

"It's Garak, sir. He wants to go to Bajor." "Bajor. For what?" "He wouldn't tell me."

Listen, honey. I know you're down bad for the Cardassian bad boy, but your Commander's getting a little tired of you interrupting him (first his meeting, then his sleep) on his behalf. Just bang him and be done with it, won't you? But, of course, a timely message saves the day.

"It can't be just a coincidence, sir... What could he be looking for on Bajor?" "There's only one way to find out."

And thus, a Cardassian and his human boy toy took off for answers.

"Perhaps, I can be of service." "You can fix computers?" "Oh, I dabble in isolinear subprocessors. It's a hobby of mine." *jaw clench*

I have to call out the jaw clench. There are few actors who can make a motion that minute and have it read well on camera.

"I continue to underestimate you, Garak."

I've never understood this line. Perhaps, Bashir could not fathom all of Garak's capabilities, but one would automatically assume a spy possessed hidden talents.

Perhaps this line speaks to the 90's, an era when we still pretty-much stuck to the labels provided by John Hughes' Breakfast Club of Brain, Athlete, Basket Case, Princess, and Criminal. Folks weren't easily more than one thing in that compartmentalized view of society and media.

If anything, Garak is an incredible Grey character when it comes to morality and motivation. So, perhaps his inclusion in the show is a delineator between the old and the new—where more complex characters were accepted on television.

But, no, Julian, I don't think you've underestimated him. Perhaps your imagination didn't stretch so far to encompass all of Garak's talents. But, if anything, you've put more stock in him and what he says than anyone else. Otherwise, you wouldn't be on this planet right now.

Garak removes his eyeglass and hands it instinctively to Julian, who receives it. It's a very intimate moment, honestly. They don't discuss this in any way. Garak knows Julian would want to see it, and he hopes to diffuse his questions by tying it all back to his tailor cover.

"Computer, disregard that request and shut down all engines."

Watch Garak, here. Robinson is taking us through an entire thought journey masterfully in seconds through microexpressions. There's surprise. Confusion. Concern. And then a realization where he thinks he's landed on what prompted this.

"I'm sorry you're upset about the orphans... I don't make the rules." "But you do play the game, don't you, Garak? And there is a game being played right now as we speak, isn't there?"

Holy fuck, yes, Julian! Finally, you are pushing back! Look, I love how much Julian can trust Garak sometimes, but it's also a bit foolish, and it's about damn time he held Garak's feet to the fire on this one.

"There are always games, Doctor." "The trouble is I don't have the slightest idea what this game is all about. So you're gonna tell me what's going on inside that plain and simple head of yours, my Cardassian friend, or we're going to sit here until we rot."

Garak looks like he wants to pin him right there. Rather than explain it all to him, Garak feeds him the information he needs to put together the pieces.

See, Garak knows that Bashir has a keen intellect. He doesn't need to tell him everything. He can simply allow Bashir to deduce it.

And perhaps this is a sneak peek of our dear Cardassian's talent for spinning tales and avoiding speaking absolute truth, but it also shows a level of trust in Bashir's intelligence.

It's the furthest Garak is willing to trust Bashir, right now, but it's still a huge leap in terms of any other relationships in Garak's life. I mean, what other friends does he have?

Sure, he initally approached Bashir hoping for a quickie or a nice man he could bootie call every so often. It seems Bashir hasn't quite taken the leap Garak had hoped in that department, but they have spent enough time together to forge some kind of bond.

And that's rare for a spy. Connections are weaknesses, you know. Which makes what these two share throughout the series all the more important for them both.

"Very good, Doctor. I'm glad to see our little get-togethers haven't gone for naught."

Again, this isn't their second time meeting, even if it is only our second time seeing them together. Gosh, I love this writing team for getting it.

"Another coincidence?" "I believe in coincidences. Coincidences happen every day. But I don't trust coincidences."

Gosh, this man can deliver a line. Also, I love the "coincidences" coming back around.

"Do you really think he purged the file on Rugal?" "I would have."

It's not an admission of his role as a spy, but it is a clue. And, if Bashir is paying attention, as much admission as he'll get at this point.

"Are you sure his name was Rugal?" "That's what we were told." *Garak perks up* "Somebody told you his name?" *Garak smiles*

I love this bit. Garak is smart, so he immediately clocks the "told" bit. And then he gets to have pride in his pet human clocking it nearly as quickly.

"Is there anything else, Doctor?"

Julian looks to Garak, who is hovering out-of-view of the Bajoran. He smiles as he shakes his head. "You did well," his smile says.

"Commander, can I ask a few questions?"

Julian walks in with Garak by his side—equals in this moment. And while Sisko earlier told Bashir off for interrupting, he knows well enough, now, that the Doctor must have something constructive to offer.

"Alright. Let's talk about children."

Look. At. The. FRAMING. Yes, we're watching Bashir square off with the menacing Gul Dukat, but framed behind them is a barely contained Garak, watching Bashir with pride.

This isn't the pride of a parental figure, but the pride one feels when their Partner gets to show everyone else what we already see in them. While Bashir has flubbed a bit through this episode, he gets to shine in this scene.

Garak always knew he had it in him, which is why he perked when Bashir stood up to him in the Runabout. Now, he gets to watch as Bashir triumphs in front of his Commanding officer and others against Garak's old nemesis—Gul Dukat.

After Julian moves away to take his place at the front of the room, the frame holds on Gul Dukat with Garak in the background. And, oh, the theater girl in me is fangirling!

Look, there are actors and then there are actors. I will never forget the first time I saw my husband on stage. We wouldn't meet for months later, but I was very bored during the second act of a University performance of St. Joan.

Every actor on that stage was talking, but nobody was listening. You can be a fine actor and get by, but those who also know how to listen and react will always have my heart.

And as the second act droned on, I noticed one of the 12 people sitting at the front of the stage slowly remove their blindfold, turn their head, and listen.

He had maybe 8 minutes of speaking time on stage, but when I went home that night, I raved to my father about him. "The second act was dragging and then this man took off his blindfold and I thought, 'finally, there's an actor on this stage!'"

Watching Robinson, here, you can tell just how amazing he is. The director chose to keep him in-frame, likely because he recognized the brilliance. And all these years later, that remains a gift to us all.

Julian delivers the final blow, and his forceful presentation gives way to an honest smile directed at Garak, who smiles back, glowing with spousal pride as he nods.

"Truth, Doctor, is in the eye of the beholder. I never tell the truth because I do not believe there is such a thing. That's why I prefer the straight line simplicity of cutting cloth." "So, you're not gonna tell me." "But you don't need me to tell you, my friend. Just notice the details. They're scattered like crumbs all over this table we regularly share."

They have a table. They have a table! I love all these little details. Also, you can tell they've really honed in on Garak's character, here.

While his first, flirty appearance wasn't intended for a recurrence, I think they had a better idea of it, here, and thus a better handle on him. Being illusive is just part of who he is and how he operates.

"Until next time."

And he nods his head toward Bashir, and Bashir nods back. I point this out because it will come back, and I think it's just so incredible that Robinson put this in so early. Trust me, I'll point it out when it comes back, again!

It would be five months before these two shared the screen, again. I point this out only because the spaces between them working together are getting smaller and smaller.

Someone amongst TPTB realized they had a winner with this Garak character and brought him back—expanding his interactions to more of the crew.

"It all comes down to a question of loyalty. My dear doctor, Yuri had to choose between protecting his brother and protecting the state. He chose the state. As would I, every time."

Oh, this is one of those conversations that says so much about Garak for anyone paying attention (or for those of us with knowledge of the future). Watching this the first time, nobody would have known about Tain, about Garak's past, about so many things.

But from this conversation we know he's a man of the state, first. That is where his loyalty lies. Not with people. It's very revealing.

"Fishing, again, Doctor?" "Assuming you're not a spy-" "Assuming." "Then, maybe you're an outcast." "Or, maybe, I'm an outcast spy." "How could you be both?" "I never said I was either."

He's telling you, Julian! You just have to listen instead of looking for what you want to hear. In this episode, Julian may not realize how much of what Garak said in that short span was true. But, we, the audience, do.

"Before I became a tailor I went by a simple motto—never let sentiment get in the way of your work. A bit of a cliché, but true, nonetheless."

Unsurprising to any of us paying attention. But, this is a television show, so one has to wonder how this next bit is going to play out, right?

In this one episode, we've gotten to see how Garak can play both sides, how much we wants to go home, how much he hates exile. They've set it up for us to believe that Garak is going to do the wrong thing, here.

For goodness sake, Robinson was probaby peeking at the end of the script to see if this would be the one where they killed him off. It would've made narrative sense!

"I can't believe that you were once considered clever."

Oh, you Cardassian bloviator. How you've underestimated the simple tailor.

"I love Cardassia. Which is why I had to do what I did."

He said at the start of the episode that he will always choose Cardassia. And once he realized that the old frenemie ruined his Central Command-approved plan, he chose what was best for his homeworld and not what was best for him. And that, my friends, is a true act of love.

Why go into all of this when this is supposed to be a Garashir Meta? Well, because everything that happened plays into a simple, short scene between the two at the beginning of the episode.

Garak had to choose between a frenemie and the State. Like he said, he'd always choose the State. So, for once, Garak was not lying to the dear Doctor at all.

Now we get to one of my favorite Garashir episodes—The Wire. Because, let's face it, there's a lot of these two in this episode and Robinson is just... oh, chef's kiss.

PAUSE: Why was Julian Bashir my favorite character on DS9? Well, much as he was and is a gorgeous human who should be immortalized in marble, it wasn't looks. I was a child when I first watched the show, and I'm pretty damn Ace, so it's not about looks. No, it's about talent.

I long ago realized that I choose favorites based on talent. When The Backstreet Boys were big (and I learned a couple songs so I could sing along at school dances while cringing over the music videos), friends asked who my favorite was. "Brian!" I said without hesitation. "But he's not cute," my friends responded.

I hadn't even considered if he was cute. I chose him because he was the most talented.

My favorites of each Star Trek series tended to be the performers that I thought were the most talented. Siddig was unmatched, to me, amongst the main cast. It was only opposite Robinson where I saw two evenly matched performers feeding off of one another and elevating each other.

So, yes, I am gushing right now over Robinson, but accompanied by that is a baseline of being gobsmacked by Siddig.

Now, let's take that appreciation of these two giants into The Wire, which aired only two months after the previous episode featuring Garak.

"I hope I'm not boring you, Doctor." "Oh, not at all, no."

Bashir places a hand amicably on Garak's back, patting once and taking almost a full two seconds before letting his hand drop away.

"I just up late last night." "Entertaining one of your lady friend?"

C'mon, Garak. Just say it. You'd rather he be up late entertaining you. We all know it!

Also, glaring intensely at whichever higher up said, "Oooh, we need the pansexual lizard to reference that Julian is definitely all about the ladies!" Like, y'all, we can clock the queer from here. It's okay. You can totally let them be in love.

"Unfortunately, not."

Covering. This has to be covering. It's not like the good doctor can't ensnare some cutie with that boyish smile of his. But he has to play along for anyone listening along so they don't suspect his attraction to the Cardassian Spy. That's the reason, right?

"No, I was reading the last few chapters of The Neverending Sacrifice." "Isn't it superb? Without a doubt the finest Cardassian novel ever written."

Hold up. Hold up. This is boyfriend behavior. You're telling me he stayed up late last night reading a Cardassian novel? Like, he purposefully didn't go out or see anyone because he wanted to do something that connects him to Garak!?

Oh, honey. Now I see why you had to cover with that "unfortunately no ladies" thing. You're down bad for lizard boy.

"There's always Quark's." "True. But I'm really not in the mood for noisy, crowded, and vulgar today." "I suppose the Klingon restaurant is out of the question."

Is this flirty? My dear Siddig, you really played this line as flirty! And I adore it!

"Maybe if you lent me another book by a different writer-"

Again, DS9 writers doing the most with limited space. We know, now, that Garak lent Bashir the book. Some part of him wanted Julian to connect with this, one of his favorite books.

This is not Spy behavior, my dear Cardassian. This is boyfriend behavior. You crave genuine connection with Julian. This isn't fuck-town anymore where you simply want him carnally. No, you're developing feelings for the man.

In the immortal words of Whoopi, "You in danger, girl".

"It would only be a waste of time. When it comes to art, you're obviously a prisoner of Federation dogma and human prejudice." "I'm sorry you feel that way."

Do you hear how softly Julian says this? He's genuinely hurt that he hurt Garak's feelings. He wants to smooth it over by trying, again. Pain seizes Garak before they can continue.

"Are you alright?" "I'm fine." "You don't look fine. Your skin is clammy and your pupils have contracted."

The wounded boyfriend voice has lifted to the concerned boyfriend voice. Garak smiles a bit, touched by the consideration, but also trying to put up a brave front.

"I assure you, I'm in perfect health. Now, you were asking about other Cardassian books, something, maybe a little more acces-"

He's trying to divert, to change the subject. But his pain is too much for him to carry out his usual subterfuge and obfuscation.

"Perfect health? Then Cardassian standards must be a little lower than mine."

Ouch, Julian. Did you really have to take that jab at the man when he's already down!? Julian places his arm around Garak to escort him to the Infirmary, but there's no way our dear Cardassian is going to let that happen.

And then we get to the moment I had to pause the video and search Social Media. See, a name popped up that I immediately recognized. "Robert Hewitt Wolfe"

He wrote this episode. And, as I opened a tab to Bluesky, I realized that of course, I follow him... and he follows me. Me!? Why me!?

Look, loves, I'm a former VO artist and actress from Virginia who grew up in North Carolina. Yes, I grew up on film sets, but that was a whole other part of my life. I have some incredible folks who follow me on Social Media, and I've never fathomed why.

So, honored as I am to find Wolfe following me... I have no idea why!

"I only wish my humanoid patients were as easy to treat." "Did Chief O'Brian dislocate his shoulder, again?"

This is so telling. See, Jadzia can tell from Julian's tone that he's not just talking about any patient. He is pointedly talking about a patient with whom he shares genuine connection. This isn't ordinary annoyance. This is frustration.

"It's Garak. Today, at lunch, he seemed as though he was gonna have some sort of seizure. He was having trouble breathing and appeared to be in a great deal of pain. When I tried to get him to come to the infirmary, he outright refused."

All he needed was someone to open the door. In seconds, he ascertained a lot about his Cardassian friend's condition. And now he's worried. He can't let it go.

I've seen folks talk about Bashir being Autistic-coded, and as the mother of an incredible Autistic-child, I can really see it. And one thing my boy has a really hard time doing is letting go when he is invested in something or someone.

"It's that damn Cardassian evasiveness of his. I mean, keeping me guessing about his past is one thing, but when it comes to his health, I don't know. Why can't he just tell me what's going on?" "It sounds like you're taking this personally." "I suppose I am."

Oh, honey, we know you are. The game of who Garak is and what Garak's done is part of your foreplay. But knowing that he is in pain and worrying that it's going to escalate is not fun.

"It's just that Garak and I have been having lunch together once a week for more than a year, now, you would think he'd come to trust me a little."

Honey, he roped you into a midnight trip to Bajor and trusted you with the truth about that Cardassian child. Did you forget about that? Or, maybe you don't yet understand just how much trust that actually took.

He does trust you. More than he trusts anyone else on this spacestation. But your soon-to-be-beloved has a lot of trust issues, and a problem with sentiment.

And I just realized I've written "Honey" four times in this Meta so far. And, no, it isn't common in my Metas. It seems reserved, right now, for Julian Bashir. So, in case you thought I'd missed that little quirk, no, I didn't, and I have no explanation. Anyway...

"Why should he? It's not like the two of you are really friends." "Well, no. Of course not."

And Julian bluffs. He tries to brush it off. Because what they are will never fall into a simple label. It'd be convenient if it did.

But these two have a special bond that goes beyond any either of them has ever had. And while we only see Julian banging women on the series, this is supposed to be a more evolved time where we don't judge one another based on who they love.

So, it's unreasonable to label any character in the Star Trek universe as "straight" simply because of what we see on-screen.

Garashir hasn't been a phenomenon for thirty years because these two were friends. What they were and are is so much more complicated than that. But in this moment with Jadzia, Julian doesn't have those words and wouldn't even know where to start. So, he deflects.

"I suppose when it comes right down to it, I don't trust him, either. I mean, for all I know the man is a Cardassian spy."

Julian... honey... did you forget when you woke Sisko in the middle of the night to procure a Runabout just because Garak asked you to!? You trust him. And you're upset he doesn't seem to trust you back.

That's what this really is. He does trust Garak. And he wants desperately for Garak to trust him back. I mean, can you love someone you don't trust? Maybe. Can you love someone who doesn't trust you? Sure.

But trust is an important part of any relationship. And this episode really highlights that for Garak and Bashir.

"And if he doesn't want my help, that's his perogative."

Besides the obvious angry stab that Jadzia totally clocks, the emphasis on "my" is fascinating. Julian isn't upset that Garak isn't seeking medical assistance. It's about him. He's upset that Garak isn't seeking his assistance.

So, of course, Bashir leaves Jadzia and spies... his boyfriend asking somebody else for help. And, oh, that burns.

"You and Garak going into business?"

Busted! Nice spy work, Bashir. Looks like you have been paying attention.

"Really? I thought Garak sounded a bit upset." "Upset? I hadn't noticed. Now, is there anything I can do for you?"

Ohhhh, the jaw clench is working overtime. Julian looks like he might punch Quark right then and there. I mean, you can feel the heat coming off of Bashir, and that is all Siddig pouring it into the performance. So delicious.

"I was hoping you could give me a hand. I've been trying to access the old Cardassian medical files, but I haven't been having much luck."

Look at boyfriend Bashir using his free time to try to help his favorite Cardassian. Of course, he finds out it will take too long to get the files he needs, and you can see the frustration flash through him as he takes it in. Another dead end.

"Quark to Bashir." "This is Bashir." "Doctor, I need you in my bar, right away."

Let's talk about this, right quick. So, we all know that Bashir and Garak have been having lunch together at least once a week for a year, now, right?

So, when Garak is getting a bit out of hand and needs someone to take him home, who does Quark call? He calls Bashir. Because Bashir is Garak's person, and everyone who's paying attention knows it.

Again, this isn't a simple "friend" label. But Quark didn't call Bashir for his medical experience here. He called him for his Garak experience. And Bashir clocks the very drunk Garak as soon as he enters. He passes off his medical kit to Quark and sets his sights on Garak.

"Doctor. What a pleasant surprise. I apologize for my outburst at lunch, but I promise I'll make it up to you. Please, join me." "I think I will. May I?" "By all means... What are you doing!?"

Note the different responses to the different people. Quark and Garak have a "friendly" association, but they aren't friends. Bashir is the closest thing to a friend Garak has.

"I think it's a little noisy in here. I'd prefer to drink somewhere quieter."

As Bashir clutches the long-necked bottle, he uses Garak's own words from earlier against him.

"Why, an excellent idea. We'll go to my quarters."

Well, it's about damn time. I mean, yes, Garak did break into Bashir's quarters that one time, but this is the first time he's inviting him back to his place that we've seen.

And, Bashir, what are you doing with your face?! That open mouth. Those wandering eyes as Garak places the cork in the bottle.

"Whatever you want."

Um.... do you mean that, Doctor? Because, I'm certain the handsome Cardassian would love to take you up on that!

But, alas, nobody gets what they want (except Quark who snatches that bottle from behind Bashir's back as quickly as he can). Bashir tries to bamboozle his boyfriend into a trip to the Infirmary, but even blundering drunk Garak is still an astute Garak.

"I am not going to the Infirmary, and I refuse to play this ridiculous game."

Ah, yes, the games. A lot of their foreplay is in games. But, also, a lot of the way Garak's been forced to live all these years.

"Make it stop. Make it stop."

Because Garak really does want it to stop. The pain. The embarassment. The humiliation. The loneliness. The isolation. He wants it all to stop.

But that requires letting someone in. That requires trust. And, for obvious reasons, he's not one who naturally trusts with ease.

"Is that legal?" "It's in the best interest of Station Security. Doctor, do you want to know what Quark knows or not?" "I see your point."

Because he needs to know how to help Garak.

"Patient Garak is no longer in the Infirmary." "What!?"

I love the reading on that. It's exasperated more than surprised. Because of course that frustrating Cardassian was gonna slip out the second his back was turned. He stalks off to his boyfriend's Quarters to give him a piece of his mind... and find that he of course stole medicine.

"Ah, Doctor, what a pleasant surprise."

He meant it at Quark's. He's lying, here. He'd much rather be alone.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

Oh, I love pissed off Julian. All he wants to do is help Garak, and from his point of view, Garak keeps making it worse by keeping him at arm's length.

His "What the hell do you think you're doing" screams, "Why won't you just let me help you, you foolish lizard man!?"

"Listen to me, Garak, I've had just about enough of your nonesense. Now, you're coming back to the Infirmary with me." "Oh, I don't think so. Believe me when I tell you, there's nothing you can do for me." "Oh, and Quark can, is that it?!"

Ooooh, there it is. I was right! Julian is jealous and hurt and he desperately wants Garak to trust him. Garak's eyes widen in surprise. Upon learning Quark couldn't get the item, though, Garak accepts his fate.

"Ah, well. Maybe it's for the best. My hypospray, if you please." "Another dose of tryptocederine might kill you." "Thank you for your concern, Doctor, but I'd rather have the hypospray." "I'm not gonna let you commit suicide. I'm here to help you."

But you can't force help on someone who doesn't want it. Not like this. Sure, Bashir could knock Garak out and get him back to the Infirmary, but that won't give him answers. That won't give him a path to healing. He needs Garak to open up and let him help.

"We've got to get you to the Infirmary." "My dear doctor, I have no intention of putting myself on display for the amusement of the Bajoran inhabitants of this statin." "It's not your pride I'm worried about. It's that implant you're carrying around inside your head." "You know about that, do you?"

Again, he's impressed. Julian has put in the work on this one. But this also illuminates why Garak has been so resistant to being in the Infirmary all along—he's a Cardassian. And he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is his exit.

He truly believes that Bashir cannot help him. So, why tell him anything? But the more he pushes and pushes, the more little truths slip out.

"Garak! I need to know what we're up against. If you tell me what it's for, maybe I could find some way to remove it."

There it is. We. Us. In the immortal words of Pacey Whitaker, "There's an us here, now."

Somewhere in there... Garak decides to tell the truth. At least, some of it. He leaves out his parentage, of course, but he tells Bashir about the implant, about his true torture in exile.

"Living on this station is torture for me, Doctor. The temperature is always too cold. The lights always too bright. Every Bajoran on this station looks at me with loathing and contempt."

He turned it on continuously a year before he met Bashir. So, we have never seen him at a time when he was without it. We don't have any clue what baseline Garak looks like without his happy pills. A terrifying and intriguing thought.

"So... that's it, then. You're just going to give up and let them win." "Them, Doctor?" "The Central Command. The Obsidian Order. Whoever it was who exiled you here. You're just going to roll over and die, let them destroy you, give up any hope of ever seeing Cardassia, again." "Doctor, did anyone ever tell you that you are an infuriating pest?" "Chief O'Brian, all the time, and I don't pay any attention to him, either."

I know this is not the best time, but is anyone else just waiting for these two to kiss? This is lover-level arguing, folks.

"Has it ever occurred to you that I might be getting exactly what I deserve?" "No one deserves this."

There's that soft voice, again. The one he had when he apologized for Garak thinking he had no taste when it came to literature.

"Oh, please, Doctor. I'm suffering enough without having to listen to your smug, Federation sympathy. You think that because we have lunch together once a week you know me? You couldn't even begin to fathom what I'm capable of."

He's pushing Julian away. He's trying to drive Julian off because sentiment is a weakness that Garak can't afford. Right?

"I am a Doctor. You're my Patient. That's all I need to know."

And this is one of those moments where Julian really shines. Yes, he's been a bit emotional about Garak this episode... stabbing plants and all. But, when it's time to be the cool and calm one, he does it expertly.

I can be an emotional human. Heck, I'm human, so emotion is part of the whole shebang, right? But, when there's an emergency, I'm the coolest head in the room. I don't know if it's my Disaster Relief background, my News background, or just lots of childhood trauma that taught me how to be cool-headed, but I excel at it.

And, here, Bashir has shifted into his professionalism.

See, the personal side has been settled for him, in a way. Garak let him in. Garak told him what the problem was. He now has a starting point because Garak gave him something to work with. Now, he is back to being a Doctor trying to help his Patient.

"Wrong, again. You need to know who you're trying to save."

Watch Garak's face as he turns away. He doesn't want to do this. But he feels he has to.

What good is a spy with real friends? He needs to be ready to leave at any moment, ready to kill anyone for the sake of Cardassia, ready to face his end if that is the best outcome.

Garak puts distance between them, putting the actual desk between them, even though the framing obscures it.

He tells half-truths to Bashir—enough to hopefully drive him away, to destroy his compassion, to let him die alone and tortured by his past.

Bashir feels the full weight of the words and leans against the desk for support. Garak crosses back around the desk to stand alongside him, ready for his punishment. Ready for the rejection. Ready for the inevitable loss.

And the camera moves with him. At this point, we've spent nearly 15 seconds on this shot, already. There is no switch in perspective.

We are with Garak as he rounds the table to Bashir, as he settles in next to him, as we transition from Garak standing alone and defiant, to him leaning, defeated, and worn... but not alone.

"I hope I haven't shattered too many of your illusions."

Garak lowers his head, closing his eyes, ready for his heart to shatter as his work is done. Yes, a lot of what he said is probably true, and he thinks it will be enough to drive his one friend away.

The shot is stunning. He leans down so that their heads are almost on the same level. Bashir is heavy with possible truths. Garak is heavy with fear and trauma.

"Listen to me, Garak-"

Cutting him off, because this is the second time he's said it this scene, but the tone is completely different. Before, he was angry. He was incensed! He demanded that Garak return to the Infirmary.

This time is different. And the writer gave Siddig the space to do this so beautifully—to show the difference between Bashir at the beginning of the scene and the end.

Garak looks up to meet his eyes, unsure of what he's going to say. There's openness on his side, more so than usual. And on Bashir's, a choice has been made—one that Garak didn't anticipate for all his possible scenarios plotted in the miliseconds used to gather his story.

"Right now I'm not concerned with what you did in the past. I'm simply not gonna walk out of here and let you die. You need to turn that implant off, and whatever withdrawal symptoms or side effects you may experience, I promise, I'll help you through them."

Garak looks away from Bashir, his eyes darting back to the compassionate man before him. His plan failed. He didn't scare away his only friend. He looks away, unable to meet Julian's eyes.

"I need to know where that triggering device is. Where is it?"

And Garak tells him. At this point, I don't know if Garak realized that he would continue to deteriorate even after it was turned off. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't.

But I think he also realized he finally had someone in his life who wouldn't push him away, wouldn't give up on him, wouldn't denounce him when it got scary.

And the camera moves with Bashir. We've been on that same shot for an entire minute at this point. We started with Garak defiantly finishing his story, to the two of them meeting in the middle, to Bashir taking over as the man of action, going for the device.

As Bashir grasps the device, the camera pans up, Bashir in the background and a bent Garak in the foreground. Again, there's an us here, and the camerawork is helping tell that tale.

Also—over a minute of these two on-camera? That's sensational. Camera cuts can cover up a multitude of sins. From someone flubbing a line, to a case of the giggles, to bad blocking.

But Siddig and Anderson are skilled enough to handle the long take with ease. Both practiced performers who are accustomed to the unforgiving nature of the live audience on the stage, they take their characters through this journey together masterfully.

And, again, it's Anderson's reactions that really gut you. But Siddig gives him the space for those reactions to breathe. For example, when Bashir says, "Listen to me, Garak," he takes a breath, there. It gives Garak the time to gather himself, to take a breath himself, to meet his friend's eyes.

You can see Garak gathering the courage for his heart to break. Yes, he spun the tale that was intended to do just that. But, he honestly wishes it weren't so.

"Right now, I'm not concerned with what you did in the past." Garak's mouth opens. It's slight, but it's there. He's surprised.

"I'm simply not gonna walk out of here and let you die." Garak's eyes start searching Bashir's—he means it. This isn't a trick. This isn't subterfuge. He gives a damn.

"...I promise I'll help you through them." That's when Garak looks away. He doesn't feel like he deserves Bashir's kindness. If anything, he deserves to be abandoned and have his heart break before he dies alone, right?

It's such a gorgeous scene. The writing. The directing. The framing. The performing. The vulnerability Robinson lends Garak in that last minute, and the compassion Siddig pours into Bashir.

Some actors simply can't carry a scene like that, but these two meet one another, feeding off of one another, giving to one another instead of trying to dominate the space as the focal point.

And, look, for all I know these long shots are simply the result of the production schedule adjusting so there would be fewer set-ups and Robinson could get out of the Cardassian wet-suit faster. But, even if they are, they're still a wonder to behold.

"Well, that'll be all, for now. If you need to reach me, I'll be here for at least the next 26 hours."

Think about the nuance of all of this. He didn't bring Garak back to the Infirmary. He set up in Garak's Quarters to be sure Garak would be as comfortable as possible, but gave no thought to his own comfort as he's tending his patient.

Garak will be able to detox with dignity in private—save Julian. And Julian will fulfill his promise to help him through. The door chimes, and it's Odo.

"Come on, we can talk outside."

Yes, you could say that Julian is only doing this because he is in Doctor mode looking out for his Patient. But, earlier he was willing to do something illegal in monitoring Quark's private communications for the sake of information, right?

"I'm afraid your questions will have to wait."

And René Auberjonois' reaction is what makes this fascinating. He was not expecting the good Doctor to say that.

"Doctor, these are murder cases and Garak may be a suspect."

Maybe the human doesn't understand, right? Maybe if he speaks to the brilliant doctor like he's a toddler, he'll get through.

"That may be so, but he's still my patient and I'll not have him disturbed, so until further notice his Quarters are off-limits to everyone except Emergency Medical Personnel. So, if you'll excuse me, I have a patient to attend to."

Odo acknowledges it, but he looks back several times in consternation to the door as he goes. He's wondering about the good Doctor's motives, here. He is. And he's not wrong to wonder.

Yes, Julian is a Doctor tending to his Patient. But he's also a friend who made a promise that he intends to keep.

At first, Garak sleeps. There are fitful moments. And Julian watches over him. He hovers. And then, finally, he curls up in the chair and drifts off to sleep. He's exhausted. He's worn. But he wakes to the soft sobs of a Cardassian.

Can you imagine how unnerving it is for a hardened Cardassian spy to find himself crying in the presence of a weak human? A human he has trusted to get him to this point. A weakness he can't afford?

And, yes, he is under the extreme stress of detox. He has gone from reliance on this implant for two years to turning it off, cold turkey, and his system is in shock. He's going to lash out. And Julian knows it.

"Garak?" "Leave me alone." "I don't think that would be a good idea right now. Your blood chemistry is severely unbalanced. You need to rest."

Julian perches on the bed next to Garak, but they are facing opposite directions. Julian has one perspective, and Garak the other. He places a hand on the Cardassian's shoulder, and Garak lurches from it.

Ordinarily, Garak would welcome Julian's touch. Already this episode, this is the fourth time Julian has reached out to touch Garak, once as a friendly pat, and twice with the hopes of escorting him to the Infirmary.

But in his detox, Garak doesn't want touch. He doesn't want affection. He's hurting and angry and confused. But he's still Garak—weaver of tales and master of half-truths masquerading as full lies.

"Don't touch me." "Calm down."

Julian, honey, no. And, Garak runs with it. He starts destroying things—the lamp, overturning his desk with barely any effort.

"Do you have any idea what that means?" "I'm afraid I don't." "No, you don't, do you. You don't know much of anything."

Again, he's pushing Julian away. But when Julian brings up the shuttle story... the story shifts.

And we begin another long shot following Garak as he rants and raves, possessed by memory and haunted by the horrors he'd rather bury in the forced endorphines of his mind.

Robinson is monologuing. As a theatrical actor, this is not something that would be new to him. But a lot of science fiction simply didn't possess performers of this caliber at that time.

In this version, Garak is the one who made the unthinkable choice and Elim is the angry Statesman.

And this shot was 1:15 long. Yes, Robinson has the heavy work in this scene and is teaching us a masterclass on performing. But Siddig has to support without ever drawing focus. And that is tougher than it looks. Again, masters.

"And so they exiled you." "That's right! And left me to live out my day with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you."

This sounds biting, and Julian takes it as such. But, underneath that is a truth—for an entire year, Garak had nothing to look forward to on this station. At first, he spied the spry Startfleet Doctor and though, "ooh, a bit of fun!"

But, now... time with Julian is something he looks forward to. For any of us who have ever been in a tough spot, felt like the walls were closing in, were struggling through life—we understand the power of having something to look forward to.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. I thought you enjoyed my company." "Oh, I did! And that's the worst part."

Now, Julian knows that Garak is lashing out because of the detoxification. Likely, this isn't the first time he's helped a patient through this.

But they have the added layer of a friendship. Yes, it's one they both deny, at this point. Garak needs to fool himself into thinking he'd still kill Julian at a moment's notice, and Julian needs to underplay how much Garak means to him because he isn't yet ready to face it.

So, Julian averts his eyes as Garak continues, because he needs to try to keep this in Doctor mode and not take it personally.

"I can't believe that I actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring into your smug sanctimonious face."

Staring, you say? Yeah, I know, not the best time to swoon. But, y'all, he enjoys staring at the good Doctor and just admitted it. It's cute!

"I hate this place and I hate you." "Okay, Garak. That's your prerogative. Now, I really think you should lie down."

He's barely holding onto the professionalism, here. He cognitively knows well enough that this isn't as personal as it might seem. Garak is coming off of two years of dependency on a drug to maintain his happiness that is now just... gone.

The two tussle, and another seizure strikes. It's too much for Bashir to handle in Garak's quarters, and so they end up in the Infirmary, again, where Julian tries to solve the issues of Garak's continued degradation.

And after all that... Bashir still wants to help. Garak, now calmer, listens in on the conversation. He decides to share yet another version of the story, sprinkling in some crumbs that Bashir can choose to follow—or not.

"You've done enough, doctor. More than I deserve."

But what I find incredible about this conversation, is how Garak emphasizes that he deserved his exile for what he did to his best friend. Now, anyone who's seen the whole series knows Elim and Garak are one.

But who is Garak's best friend now? Has Garak ever had a best friend? Someone he could count on?

"Why are you telling me this, Garak?" "So that you can forgive me. Why else? I need to know that someone forgives me."

The weight of this. Yes, yes. I know they're about to hold hands and be all sweet about it. But that last line is important. Because in Season 5's "In Purgatory's Shadow" Garak tells Bashir how he'd hoped Tain—the most important relationship in his life—could forgive him.

There is only one other person whose forgiveness holds weight with Garak—and that's Julian. Julian places his hand in Garak's, and Garak holds on, holding the human's gaze.

"I forgive you... for whatever it is you did."

This. Is. Art. The pause. The shrug! There's so much going on here. Because Julian is intimating he doesn't believe he knows the whole truth, even now, while still offering the absolution Garak seeks.

"Thank you, Doctor. That's most kind."

Bashir used this word at their first meeting. Kind. Not a special word, in any fashion, but it struck me hearing it again, here, said by the other party.

Garak has been pushing Julian away throughout the day, but here he invites him in, a little. We went from "Don't touch me" to an outstretched hand. We went from him deflecting Julian to offering him the breadcrumbs needed (where to find Tain, information on just how dangerous Tain is) just in case Julian can pull this off.

Julian smiles at Garak as he fades off, exhausted, tired. And then Bashir shifts into "get shit done" mode.

"Still, what you did was very brave. I'm impressed... Are all the Starfleet Lieutenants as brash as you are?"

Tain, your son chose a good man—brave and true.

"Tell me, Doctor. How sick is Garak?" "He's dying." "And you're trying to save him." "That's right." "Strange. I thought you were his friend." "I suppose I am."

Now, we can speculate that Bashir is saying what he needs to say to get what he needs from Tain. But, we could also conclude that Garak is dying, so what's the harm in admitting they're friends at this point?

"Then you should let him die. After all, for Garak a life in exile is no life at all." "Say what you will. My job is to keep him alive. And I need your help."

And we're back in Doctor mode. It worked on Odo, so it might work here, right?

"Doctor... Elim is Garak's first name."

Bashir had been holding his own against Tain rather well until this point, but that reveal rocked him a bit. Even what he thought he understood from Garak's stories is now meaningless. "Just plain Garak", eh?

But, I think it's Garak's way of separating the parts of himself and who he is. Yes, he did terrible things. Yes, he also did good things. The Cardassian is as morally grey as they get on this show. Compartmentalization is logical for one forced to endure exile while pondering past predicaments that sealed one's fate.

At lunch, a pondering Bashir twirls his fork.

"So, how's the Idanian Spiced Pudding?" "How's the spiced pudding?! Is that all you have to say for yourself!?"

Love Siddig's read on that first bit. It makes me laugh every time. He's so indignant! So frustrated.

"I, for one, Doctor, am perfectly satisfied with the way things turned out. And I see no need to dwell on what was doubtlessly a difficult time for both of us."

Say it with me, folks: "There's an us here, now".

"Here. I brought you something." "What is it? ... More Cardassian literature." "I think you'll find this one more to your tastes."

This time, he isn't using it as a divergence. This is a thank you. This is him inviting Bashir in even closer than before. No, he still won't speak in full-truths. To be honest, he probably doesn't know how.

But while Bashir didn't enjoy the first book, he realizes that Bashir's openness to trying more isn't out of some weird ideology, but because he is invested in Garak and wants to understand him better.

The trauma of what they just weathered will endure—but so will the bond they strengthened in the flames.

"You know, I still have a lot of questions to ask you about your past." "I have given you all the answers I am capable of."

And, you can almost believe him, there.

"You've given me answers, alright, but they were all different. What I want to know is of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren't."

Did you note Bashir's hands? This is how he tried to place his hands the first time he met Garak, when he got caught up in the plant, when he was completely flustered.

But Julian's tone is different from any other time they've had this conversation. Partially because he is now privy to information (Garak's first name) that Garak doesn't know he's learned.

I love the detail that now that he is on a closer-to-equal footing with the Cardassian, he can place his hands like this and pull it off without effort. It says something about his character coming along, I think.

"My dear Doctor, they're all true." "Even the lies?" "Especially the lies."

Julian smiles at his friend, shaking his head as he does.

It's one of my favorite Garashir episodes, not just for the incredible writing, directing, and performances—but for how it pushes their relationship forward.

Though Julian still has questions, he has a little more to go on—and while that little may not seem significant, it is for Garak. And I think some part of Bashir knows it.

They won't see each other again until Season 3. Now, the Garak seen in "The Search" doesn't even technically exist. He's not a part of the team whose minds are hooked up to a Matrix-like simulation. But that leads me to wonder—whose version of Garak is he?

Was this version of Garak programmed in for their enjoyment? Or is he an amalgamation of their perceptions? Also, since Bashir was one of those under sedation, his reactions to Garak were real, regardless of if Garak himself was.

So, let's talk a little about how this plays out for our beloved Garashir with the understanding that Garak's characterization is coming from somewhere, but we know not where. What we do know is that Bashir's responses are 100% real.

"Doctor! Welcome back!"

Alright, maybe this should've been the first clue that something was off—what the hell is Garak doing!? He's just puttering around at some weird computer for no apparent reason, pining and waiting for his beloved to return.

"Business keeping you busy?" "The tailoring business? Or the spy business? Joking, of course." "Of course."

Bashir is beaming like he's having the time of his life. 'And he is flirting. While we don't know who dreamt up this version of Garak, we know he's got the attention of the Doctor!

"I've missed you. I've been genuinely concerned for your safety. Lunch hasn't been the same without you."

Alright. Now I'm going for Bashir-influenced headcannon because dude, that is boyfriend-level dialogue I wouldn't expect from the usually close-vested Cardassian.

Is this what Julian wants from Garak? Is this what the Changelings think Garak would say to Bashir? Whichever it is, it's revealing of either how Julian sees his relationship with Garak or how the outside world views them. Neither is particularly straight. Just sayin'.

"That's very kind of you to say so, Garak."

Because he wouldn't say it, honey. But I definitely think you want him to. And don't think I missed you slipping the "kind" in there, again.

"I'm afraid you have a loose thread right here." ... "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were enjoying yourself, Garak." "Oh, not at all, Doctor, but after years of hemming women's dresses, a little action is a welcome change of pace."

Again, this is a simulation. But, clearly someone thinks Garak will take the side of the Federation in all this, and that he will very often be by the side of his favorite Doctor.

But, also, damn, Julian is flirty today! Like, "Having fun, darling?" Tell me I'm not the only one hearing it!

"I have them! I have them. By all means, Commander, do as they say." "Garak." "Now, you heard me Doctor." ... "You see, I pretend to be their friend and then I shoot you."

Again, whoever's idea of Garak this is, it's very revealing. Yes, he appears to turn on the Federation crew... before choosing their side.

"It's just something I read once in a book." "I'm sure."

But Garak here is far too foolish, engaging in flirtation with Julian when he should have been paying attention.

Real Garak wouldn't have gotten shot, here. He would've been too focused on the mission. Real Garak always saves his quips for after the danger has passed. But Julian thinks this is real Garak... and Garak goes down.

"Garak! Garak."

Julian rushes to his side, grabbing ahold of him.

"Doctor, I'm afraid I won't be able to have lunch with you today."

As Garak slumps, so, too, does Julian. Sisko grabs ahold of Julian, pulling him away, but it takes a few seconds for Bashir to be able to look away. Is Garak dead? Are they leaving him to die?

Remember, this is all a simulation. But for Julian, this is real. He held his friend as he died. His last words were to him—a sad farewell to their future.

Sisko's tugging him, but Jadzia pushes him, too. A part of Julian is trapped there, on that floor, fused to Garak in a way that Julian hadn't considered. But there's no time for mourning.

Yes, it's all just a simulation. Julian will lunch with Garak, again. And he does on-screen, only a few weeks later.

"There you are, Garak!" "Ah!" "I went past your shop, but it was closed."

And there Garak sits, at their table. Yes, they eat other places, but this is their spot.

"How was your trip to Klaestron IV?"

Aw! They know about each other's trips and movements. They care about one another.

"Garak, you're being paranoid. Are you saying the Cardassian government would have you killed if you left this station?" "My dear doctor, you do have a vivid imagination."

And Bashir is frustrated with Garak, again, but merely noneplussed, not upset. Also, in comparison to last episode this sounds like Garak, again. Weaving half-truths, not answering a straight question with a straight answer. Welcome back, buddy!

"Oh, good evening, Doctor. If you're finished here, I was wondering if you'd like to join me for a late snack."

Ah, yes, the classic excuse of using food as an excuse to be together. Food is necessary to life, yet? Even snacks can be life-sustaining at times. Hell, as a breast-feeding mother, I felt like I had to eat 24/7.

He wants to tell only Julian, but ends up having to talk to Sisko. Sorry, Garak. I know it's a lot more fun to talk to the human you want to sleep with than the one you don't.

But then he learns—higher ups want him off the station. Not only would that kill him because of Tain's orders, but it would also mean no more snacking with (and dreaming of snacking on) the handsome human Doctor.

"The Quarters on this vessel are rather claustrophobic."

Now, this might be a deflection, but I bring it up because back in "The Wire" he mentioned how cramped the Infirmary felt. Are these breadcrumbs of his claustrophobia? Happy accidents? We'd have to ask one of the writers to know for sure!

"Garak, do you know a way we can stop this neurocine gas?" "The only way to do that is to destroy the life support system."

I love this. Because Julian is the one to ask, he offers the answer, and Bashir's the only one to truly get it the first time through.

Is this because of his superior intellect? Because he understands Garak better than any of the others do? Hard to know, but our dear would-be lovers are definitely shown as being in sync.

"Well, tell me, Doctor, what it is exactly about this situation that's making you smile." "You, Garak."

Garak felt his darling's stare and looked to meet his eyes. In another situation, he might've flirted instead of demonstrated confusion. And while the Cardassian doesn't really fluster, it's one time where I feel like the Doctor has caught him off-guard.

I mean, we all love to see our crush smiling at us for no reason... but Julian's timing really sucks ass.

"Hmm?" "Just wondering how many other tailors can rewrite Cardassian security protocols." "I wouldn't even venture a guess. Which reminds me, those pants you wanted altered are ready to be picked up."

Julian chuckles at Garak's change of subject—well aware, by this point, that his Cardassian friend thinks he's slick. But, ooph, there's a flirty tone to Julian in this exchange.

And don't think Garak misses it. Oh, no! It's just his hands are a bit full of Cardassian security protocols, at the moment, so the handsome Doctor will have to wait.

Also, the Yank-who-lived-in-England in me is dying laughing. While to us Americans, Garak is talking about two-legged garments that typically reach from hip to ankle, that's the American definition of "pants".

For Brits, pants refer to "underpants". So, while the writer most likely meant the former, my brain goes to the latter and has to chuckle along with Julian.

Of course Garak would like to see Julian's underpants, again (c'mon... no way he waited outside Bashir's quarters in "Cardassians" while he dressed!). But the fact that Julian is taking advantage of Garak's services is also intriguing—does he pay in Latinum? Or does he pay... in other ways?

Alright, fine. I'll stop imagining and get back to the task at hand.

"Garak groveling in a corner. That alone makes my trip worthwhile." *Garak straightens* "Garak!" "Easy, Doctor."

In real-world time, it's only been a few weeks since Julian thought he lost Garak in the simulation. He doesn't want to lose him, again.

"I should have executed you years ago." "Oh, you tried, remember?" "Garak. This isn't helping."

Julian holds Garak's gaze, though we don't know Garak's response. But this is such a lover thing to do—hold one another accountable in a moment of high-stress.

It feels like there's some exchange we miss between them based on how long it takes Julian to look to Jadzia, but I don't mind that. I don't mind that we miss it. What matters is that we knew it happened.

It will be months before we see these two together on-screen again, and Garak must not hold that last exchange against Julian because he comes bearing gifts. That's right! It's Julian's 30th birthday episode.

"Well, if you like, I can help you set up an exercise program in one of the holosuites."

Escalating the relationship, again, I see. But, truly, we've gone from lunch once a week to trusting one another in tight places, to Julian frequenting the tailor's for alterations of trousers (seriously, Jules, just ask the replicator for shorter legs! We all know it's pretense to see your favorite Cardassian between nibbles).

Now, they're considering holosuite dates. Yup. That's how I'm going to look at it through my delusional glasses! Holosuite dates.

"Speaking of holosuites..."

I want to ravish you on Risa. Not what he said? Okay, fine, I'll get back to proper transcription.

"Happy birthday."

Is there a ribbon on that!? Elim Garak, you wrapped your pet human's present!?

"I know it's a few days off, but I wanted to give you your present early."

Y'all, the former spy and ruthless mind whose morals vascilate between dark grey and light great is a sweetie! And, frankly, Julian is a bit of an ass.

Did your parents never teach you to politely say, "Thank you"? Not, "I'm not into this because it's not my thing and it's not any fun" but a simple fucking thank you when the love of your life attempts to be thoughtful.

He even knew you liked mystery novels and tried to find something he thought you'd enjoy! Sure, it was a swing and a miss, but you didn't have to be that dismissive of the lizard!

At the same time... my reaction to the time my husband gave me a dolphin kite for my birthday (no, I have no idea how he got there, either) wasn't the best. So, I'll forgive you, Julian... for now.

"Is Lieutenant Dax throwing one of her surprise parties for you this year?" "Oh, so I'm told." "Well, you don't sound enthusiastic about that, either."

You freakin' cunning lizard. You accurately deduced that your darling Doctor's reaction wasn't entirely directed at the subject matter of the holosuite program, but something else entirely.

But rather than ask outright, the old spy pokes and prods to get to the point. Wow, who ever thought I'd write that sentence about this two and not mean it in inuendo!? Not me!

"I wasn't aware that humans saw growing old as a negative experience. On Cardassia, advanced age is seen as a sign of power, dignity."

There's some heat to this statement. Like, "Darling, I'm right here and you're not jumping on this powerful, dignified Cardassian?! What's wrong with you!?"

"And, look, Garak, in two days I turn 30. If I choose to be grumpy about it, that's my prerogative."

Garak supports however Julian wants to feel about it, and it feels very much spousal, this whole conversation. Like, "Whatever you say, darling". So, when Quark comes into the middle of the conversation, Julian has to shift out of spouse mode and back to Doctor mode.

"I hope you'll forgive the interruption." "Of course."

That was to Garak... why the hell was that to Garak? And why did Garak automatically respond as if this was the most normal thing in the world?

Is this still because of what Garak did to help Quark's old flame? Is this because Quark failed to obtain the merchandise when Garak's implant degraded? Or is it because Quark's smart enough to notice when Garak is out with his boyfriend and doesn't wish to be disturbed?

"Goodbye, Quark." "Don't take it personally. He's turning 30."

Get. A. Room. You. Two. Julian glares at his husband, and I try to contain my giggles.

Look, I've heard they were told to tone down the Garashir at some point in the show. I don't know when that occurred, but I can tell you that these two are still steaming with chemistry and attraction.

"Garak!" "Doctor! What are you doing here?"

And just like the first time around with Garak not really being here, it's someone else's idea of who Garak is to Bashir. And this version of Garak is very handsy. So, once again, someone saw these two and thought, "Yup. Banging."

"I'll meet you back on the Promenade in half an hour. Be careful." "You, too."

Look, this probably wasn't intentional—or maybe it was, who the hell knows!?—but the way their hands linger as they pass off the equipment has me going feral. Because this is all in Julian's head.

It could just be that Siddig's fingers got stuck passing it off to Robinson and they're both so damn professional that they just kept going. But, shipper-girl likes to imagine there was some feeling in those fingers.

"I'm a part of you, remember? I know what you know. Well, maybe a little more." "Still the man of mystery?" "Oh, you wouldn't have me any other way."

Look, we will find out that this isn't a part of Julian, but an extension of the attack. But Julian is still flirting hard. Even in his mind, he wants to flirt with the Cardassian!

"I did some checking on Letheans. Their telepathic attacks are almost always fatal. I guess I was lucky." "Cardassians don't believe in luck, Doctor. You survived because you're strong."

And we can get into the debate about Julian's genetic enhancements and whether that played a part. But at this moment, Garak is simply impressed and Julian is grateful.

"One thing's for sure, you know, after experiencing life at a hundred plus, turning 30 doesn't seem that bad anymore." "In that case, happy birthday."

Bashir gratefully inclines his head to Garak, no longer grumpy about the big day.

"You know, Doctor, what I find most fascinating about this entire incident is how your unconscious mind chose people you know to represent the various parts of your personality... And what I find interesting is how your mind ended up casting me as the villain."

Julian searches for words. I don't think even he knew if it was truly him or the Lethean who cast Garak in the role.

"Oh, I wouldn't read too much into that, Garak." "Oh, how can I not?"

And Garak seems to assume that Julian's mind painted him as the villain, but I really think it was the Lethean who made that choice.

He needed it to be someone who Bashir would keep close through the whole ordeal, and they definitely came off couple-y in that opening scene!

"To think, after all this time, after all our lunches together, you still don't trust me... There's hope for you yet, Doctor."

Garak leans forward, grabbing onto Julian's forearm. And a coy smile spreads across Julian's face. That's the Garak he knows.

Only a few short weeks later, we've transitioned from Julian's complaints about Cardassian literature and mysteries to Garak's issues with Shakespeare.

I can hear my English and Drama teaching husband cringing from here. He is still amazed by my ability to perform iambic pentameter while still struggling to understand why it exists in the first place.

"But I'm sorry, Doctor. I just don't see the value of this man's work." "But, Garak, Shakespeare is one of the giants of human literature."

Oh, how the table has turned (well, Garak didn't knock this one over, yet, but you know what I mean). For so long, Julian simply hasn't connected with Cardassian literature—despite his tries! And now Garak is having the same issue in reverse.

And, of course, the Garashir conversation is set up for what is yet to come. They talk about a great military man who couldn't see what was going on right under his own nose... hmmm.

And I'm worried Siddig is going to barf. If you pay attention to most scenes where actors eat, then tend to take small bites/sips if any at all. That's because this scene that takes minutes to watch takes hours and hours to shoot.

I'm uncertain if Deep Space 9 ran an A Camera and B Camera simultaneously, but even then, there are so many takes to get what will satisfy a director, most times.

So, every time Julian had to stuff his face. And that means poor Siddig had to scarf down that food over and over and over, again.

"Oh, you're fortunate. I have more time on my hands than I know what to do with." "Maybe you could finish those trousers I dropped off last week."

Hah! I am cackling with glee. A little while back I mentioned the whole US/UK pants/trousers thing without any remembrance that Bashir says "trousers" here. Yup!

Unless there was a special case... don't think Julian would need Garak to alter his Starfleet-regulation underwear. Now, is there was something special he wanted only for Garak's eyes, that's another thing entirely.

"You're going to give yourself indigestion."

Garak, you and I are on the same page!

"If you hadn't been so late, I could have enjoyed my lunch."

Awww. He waited until his boyfriend arrived to get his food! That's so sweet of him. Even if he's throwing it in Garak's face now.

"I have to go, and I'm sorry to leave you while you're still eating." "No, no. I'm done as well." "But you've hardly touched your plate!" "If you must know, I've been nibbling on Delavian chocolates all morning."

Babe, why are you standing so close to your human companion? This is one of those things I tried to point out to my husband early about Garashir—they tend to stand like personal space doesn't exist.

Of course, he pulled out the "It's 4:3 framing" argument because Deep Space 9 aired at a time when televisions were still literal boxes that you tried desperately not to knock over while adjusting the bunny ears to get the channel to clear up.

But then I showed him a couple scenes where the aspect ratio should have zero bearing on that kind of blocking that puts them in kissing distance, and he had to admit... they like to get up close and personal!

"Where did you get Delavian chocolates?"

And the tone completely shifts. We can infer that these are a delicacy, and something that Bashir likes, as well. For all their disagreements on literature, it seems that chocolates are their shared interest.

Julian, a moment ago quite peturbed, is now all smiles and intrigued at the idea of sharing in a chocolate or two with the Cardassian.

"Well, I promised my supplier I wouldn't tell, but since I deprived you of your dessert, I'd be more than happy to bring some by the Infirmary later this afternoon." "Why, thank you, I'd like that." "Until then, Doctor."

Garak inclines his head toward Julian, which we've seen him do before. And while Bashir has answered in kind, it has never been as enthusiastic as this time. Every ounce of annoyance he possessed seconds earlier is gone.

There's something so domestic about that. Matthew and I can have a disagreement, and then one of us makes the other laugh so loud it melts away.

"Are you alright?"

Garak lies on the ground, and while I suspect some of his reaction is well-practiced and conceived for the purpose of his mission, Julian doesn't know that. He leans across the Cardassian, then starts a quick check of essential points.

"But I'm afraid your pants won't be ready tomorrow after all."

Ah, yes, the reminder that he's a simple tailor. But why would someone blow up a simple tailor's shop?

"Could this attempt on your life have anything to do with the reason you were exiled from Cardassia?"

There's something so perfect about this question directed to Garak as Julian is out-of-frame, only his hands working on Garak to remind us he's there. Sure, Julian doesn't know the full truth, but he knows more than they do.

And that means Julian never told anyone what Garak told him. Oh, you two are just building and building your trust, aren't you?

Julian waits until the others leave to hand Garak a mirror to inspect himself, to open his mouth, to say anything at all.

"Someone should do a study." "A study?" "To try and figure out why some people can't bring themselves to trust anyone even if it's in their own best interest."

I like the way Garak looks up when Bashir says "anyone". Because, he does trust Julian far more than he should, far more than he thought he would allow himself to.

But a lifetime of lies is difficult to abandon. No, it's his security blanket wound so tight around him he struggles for breath, but will never admit it.

"Why is it no one ever believes me even when I'm telling the truth?"

And Julian launches into more American literature... a children's story. He hopes it will get through, but the secondary interpretation of the classic Boy Who Cried Wolf only supports their entirely different views on literature.

Julian hopes Garak will learn to trust people instead of lying so much they don't believe him. But the practiced spy has already demonstrated his viewpoint during "The Wire" when the story kept changing—never tell the same lie twice.

"I am not Doctor Bashir and we are not sparring amiably over lunch-"

Well, everyone seems to know about these lunches, don't they? Now, of course Odo would keep an eye on everyone, but I still rather love this call-out.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Garak." "So do I." "Is there anything you need me to do while you're gone?" "Like what?"

Water your plants. Walk the dog. Plan our wedding.

"If you go into my quarters and examine the bulkhead next to the replicator, you'll notice there's a false panel. Behind that panel, there's a compartment containing an isolinear rod. If I'm not back within 78 hours, I want you to take that rod and eat it."

Woah. I mean, I thought I was going a little too far with the wedding planning, but apparently not. I mean, if Garak's gonna be out here in public telling Bashir to eat his rod, the wedding bells might be a-ringin' soon after all!

"Eat it?" "Mmm." "You're joking." "Yes, Doctor. I am." "Very funny." "I thought so."

Gosh, the staging of this is so interesting. Julian is usually a hair taller than Garak, but with Garak up a step, he's towering over Julian. It somehow doesn't make Julian look small, but it does cast a different light over his face as he's forced to look up at the Cardassian.

"Then these are for you." "Dalavian chocolates. But these were meant for you." "I know. I thought you might need them more than I do."

And, finally, they've found a gentle love language between them—chocolate. Literature exchanges lead to rigorous debate, sure. And fun as that foreplay has always been, there's something so soft about this moment.

"Thank you."

Garak says it as softly as he's ever said anything. Julian came here to see him off, to give him a parting gift, to be the closest friend he's probably ever had. What started out as a hopeful hookup has become a relationship that will transcend the borders of convention the more it grows.

"Good luck." "Hmm."

And while Garak doesn't believe in luck, he doesn't take the moment to remind him. Instead, he carries that bit of sweetness with him as he walks the rest of the way through the threshold.

I tend to think Julian is the one thing he misses when he leaves the station behind. The shop is his cover, and he happens to be well-skilled at it, like he is a great many things. But we already know that living on that station is torture.

Julian is the one thing that makes him truly smile, truly feel. When he's with Julian, they debate, they banter, they argue, they laugh, they go through the range of emotions and form new connections and bonds.

But, still, his heart is forever Cardassia's. We'll get to that more later...

"He hides his true feeling almost as well as you do, Elim."

A rare compliment.

"Like I used to say, 'Always burn your bridges behind you. You never know who might be trying to follow."

Hmmm. And Garak decidedly does not burn his bridges when he says goodbye at the end of the series. So, might a certain Doctor follow? Eh, getting ahead of myself, again!

"Well, I suppose Garak has taught me to think of lunch as a sort of arena for philosophical debate."

Julian and Miles are best friends, no doubt! But Julian and Garak are friends, too, just different.

I have friends I can get into deep philosophical debates with. Hell, my husband is the one who gets the bulk of it! And it seems that it's dawning on Julian that he has a different type of friendship with Garak than he does with anyone else in his life.

It's not a grand acknowledgement of romance, but it's a start. Too bad his future partner is busy abandoning him for his fucked up father. And, yes, wanting to go home is a powerful thing.

But home is often more than a place. Garak hasn't gotten there, yet. And maybe he never will fully grasp that concept. After all, it's different when you're forced from your home than when you leave of your own volition.

Back to Julian, his looks whistfully to the table. Ugh, he misses Garak. He has come to expect and enjoy their banter.

"I take it there's still no word about Garak and Odo?"

Julian doesn't know that the word is bad. Honey, your BFF is off in the stars with his manipulative, narcissistic father and choosing his true home over you.

Poor Bashir just wants to know his friend—oy, we are stretching the meaning of that word, here—is okay.

The word from Miles isn't helpful, and the Chief departs without another word to his friend. Julian looks to the table, dejected and concerned.

But he doesn't know how much Garak longs for the approval of Tain—his father. And as someone who grew up with a co-dependent, narcissistic parent... I get it. I was in my 30's before I fully broke free. I don't think Garak ever did.

"The Founders? You want to go home to the Founders? But I thought you turned your back on them!" "I did. But they're still my people. I tried to deny it. I tried to forget."

And Garak cradles his head in his hand as the Changeling returns to his true form. He did his duty to torture Odo to extract information—but that glee that Tain described earlier simply isn't there.

Yes, Garak is good at what he does. He's clever. But there's a difference between doing what you think you must do and wanting to do it.

For the first time, we really have to wonder what Garak truly wants. He has always sworn allegiance to Cardassia and to the State. He has repeatedly chosen what he thought best for Cardassia, even if it wasn't what was best for him.

But is he the same Cardassian he was? Was he ever who Tain wanted him to be? And you might think, "What the fuck does this have to do with Garashir!?" But, for Garak, his heart and allegiances will always tear him from Julian.

"What could have happened?!" "I'm afraid the fault, dear Tain, is not in our stars but in ourselves." "What!?" "Something I learned from Doctor Bashir."

And there he is, quoting the Shakespeare he so recently quarreled over with Julian.

"Welcome back." "Oh, that looks painful."

I was just thinking we weren't going to see Julian's reaction to them coming aboard, and there he is, ready and waiting. Just as he saw Garak off, he's the one who is there to receive him.

Garak stumbles a little as he walks, holding onto the railing on the wall. Then, he stumbles right into Julian as the Defiant takes fire.

Later, Garak returns to the wreckage of his shop. When he blew it up, he didn't know if he would return. Now, he has nothing on Cardassia, and he also has nothing here.

And in an absolutely stunning shot, we see Odo standing in the doorway, in the reflection, almost a reflection of Garak himself in that they both wish they could go home, but both find themselves, again, on this station—though for different reasons.

"Garak, I was thinking that you and I should have breakfast together sometime."

I include this because everyone knows Julian is Garak's lunch date. Even in this moment, Julian's somehow a part of it.

And that stunning shot is nearly two minutes long. Two minutes of continuous camera on Robinson, displaying, yet again, what a tremendous performer he is. And it's simply too beautiful a shot not to mention. Brava/Bravo to whoever conceived and executed it.

That's the end of Garak in Season 3. Though they waste no time in bringing him into Season 4! We meet him, again, in the first episode of Season 4.

"What I can't understand is their inexplicable hostility toward me... Perhaps they decided they just didn't like me." "Not like you. Impossible." "You're right. As always, Doctor."

Is it bad that my first thought watching this scene was, "Well, Julian certainly knows how to get Garak on his back anytime he wants"? Probably. But, this blatant flirting is the fun bit. And the only bit we get of the two of them, though Garak has some delicious stuff this episode.

It would be eight aired episodes later before Garak and Bashir see one another, again, but, oh, what a fun one that is!

"Who's that?" "An uninvited guest. Excuse me."

The applause has me rolling. Like, "Very good, Doctor. Excellent performance. This for sure will convince them you're straight!"

Julian crosses over the body on the floor, past the shattered glass to where Garak watches, wearing his own smart tuxedo.

"Nice tux." "Thank you." "Now, get out!"

I love that even though he is pissed at Garak, right now, he still can't miss the opportunity to compliment him.

"Ever since you received this new program you spend virtually every free hour in the holosuite. But you haven't told anyone what the program is."

His delivery on that last bit is so delicious. There's a point to every word, like a sharp edge as he takes in the ridiculous, over-the-top nature of this supposed spy tale.

"Am I supposed to?" "No, no. No. But you're such a, forgive me, a talkative man and it's so unusual for you to have secrets."

I love how he reaches out to clutch Julian's forearm and doesn't let go until he finishes speaking. And, we will later find out that Julian does have a secret, though I don't know if at this point either actor knew it.

Sometimes the actor knows the big twist or big secret, like Kristen Bell and The Good Place. But other times, they don't, like Amanda Abbington in Sherlock.

It can change up how you play something as a performer. Sometimes it's for the better, and sometimes not. It's another two seasons before Siddig beautifully monologues about Julian's childhood.

But did the writers know? Like in Sherlock, there are plenty of cases where the Writers know something and haven't yet told the actors. Happens more often than you can think! It's one of those cases I truly wonder and wish I had an answer.

"I must have picked up that habit from you."

Flirting, again, Julian!? Are you hoping it'll appease him and he'll leave you be?

"Now, if you'll excuse me-"

Julian steps over the body, but Garak steps with him.

"Is this fantasy of yours truly revealing of your inner psyche?"

Did I fall in love with a total dork, Bond-wannabe? Seriously, there's a touch of disbelief in his tone.

"What?" "Is that why you're so protective?"

Garak steps closer to Julian—far closer than needed. My husband has brought up the "It was 4:3, they had to stand close together!" argument before, but when I showed him this one, he just laughed and shook his head.

This is boyfriend space. This is, "I'm gonna kiss you if you let me" space.

"Are you afraid that I'll find out some humiliating secrets of the real Julian Bashir?" "This is a fantasy. I'm not hiding anything." "Well, if you've nothing to hide, why not let me stay?"

Somehow, Garak still finds a way to talk with his hands without brushing Julian's chest—which, let's be real, is totally on his mind at all times—and Julian keeps his eyes locked on Garak's.

Garak notes Julian's lack of quick response and quirks his head to the side, a smile crossing his features. He knows he's got him where he wants him.

He once interrogated a man by staring at him for hours. Now, those same eyes turn puppy-dog as he entices his human bae to let him get his way. And Garak gets his way.

"All right." "Ah."

And the Bond girl wannabe is pissed. Not only is she not getting laid, now she has to compete for the sexy man's attention with a dashing Cardassian.

"Now, I have to be at work in two hours, and I'd like to enjoy myself, so keep quiet and don't rain on my parade."

That last bit is pointed. This is like when I have to remind Matthew not to make fun of me for watching super cheesy Christmas movies at Christmastime. I'm so stressed with work and family drama that I need something that just makes me smile.

Julian needs his would-be hubby to be chill so he can have some much-needed fun that doesn't require him to be everything he is. For a little while, he wants to be something he isn't just to unwind.

Gosh, I feel that. So, c'mon, Garak, let your boytoy have his fun.

"Parade?" "Nevermind." "Don't worry, Doctor. I can be very discreet. You'll barely know I'm here."

Are you thinking you're going to watch him have sex? Like, just how discreet do you need to be right now!? But, even though the Earth-ian reference went over Garak's head, he has committed to this, now. The Cardassian is along for the ride.

"She seemed so interested in your advances just a moment ago. I wonder what scared her away."

Julian and I have the same thought: Really Garak!? As if you don't know what scared her off?

"Oh, no. I do apologize."

Now, in another version of this show, Julian would realize that the reason that things just keep not working out with him with other people—virtual or otherwise—is that he's got it bad for a certain lizard man.

"You must be incensed! In fact, if I were in your shoes, I'd grab a bottle of champagne, and shoot me." "I can see I'm going to regret this."

First off, Garak's interpretation of Bond films isn't too far off my own circa 1990's era Bond. Also, way to be transparent about your kinks, Garak!

Now, Julian could just rescind the permission to hang out, but he doesn't. Why not? I don't think he's worried about being rude to the Cardassian. Perhaps, though, he wants to prove to himself that he has nothing to hide.

Garak claps a hand on Julian's shoulder as they walk.

"Don't worry, Doctor. We're going to have a wonderful time. After all, what could possibly go wrong?"

Classic line, here. Famous last words. If ever you're watching a movie or television show and someone utters a "what's the worst that can happen?" or "what could possibly go wrong?" just know—the worst is about to happen and everything is going to go wrong.

"You live here?" "That's right." "Decorate it yourself?" "The decor is appropriate for the period—1964."

I love how much fun Garak is having with this. He's taking it all in and soaking it all up. This place is far more cluttered than Bashir's quarters in real life, which Garak broke into and probably memorized in case he ever needed to plant something on the unsuspecting Doctor.

"I think I joined the wrong intelligence services."

It's so nice to be so far beyond Garak having to hide his past allegiances. Yes, there's intrigue left with the ole Cardassian, but I like how casual these two are conversing.

And I love how Julian is lounging. Maybe it's his character. Maybe it's simply the way he sits on a couch like this. Who knows!? But, is suggests an openness and swagger that isn't forced like his earlier characterizations, but simply an extension of who he is.

"Yes, this should do nicely. Though I'm not too sure about the collar." "It's perfect."

I have so many questions. Look, Holodeck stuff has always been a little fuzzy to me. Like, did they replicate some clothing? Or did they ask the system to assign them new clothing? Can they wear these clothes off the holodeck?!

And if these are completely new clothes, would this mark the first time Julian's seen the Cardassian in a state of undress? We know Garak woke Julian in his jammies, once, and that he's fitted him for trouser alterations at least twice. But there's been no opportunity for Julian to see Garak in a state of undress until now.

Also, this is such a spousal exchange. Garak is the one fussing over his attire and aching for perfection, while Julian is the assuring one, telling him that he looks fine.

"Very funny."

Aw, nice to see the return of this phrase from Julian. But, no, honey, this isn't a joke. Garak really isn't trying to rain on your parade.

"You're bleeding." "The Holosuite safeties must be off."

Ever the Doctor, Julian's concerned about his favorite patient before he has to save another life.

"Try to stay cool, Mr. Bashir."

I love how as soon as not-Sisko leaves, Julian looks to Garak, who is definitely concerned about this situation.

"I'd give you both some privacy, if I could."

Garak, my love, you know you can at least turn around. No, you want Julian to know you are watching him.

"Kiss the girl, get the key. They never taught me that in the Obsidian Order."

I love how impressed Garak is with Julian. He just picked a freakin' 20th century lock! Like, that isn't an essential course at Starfleet Academy!

"Yes, they might be killed, and that is unfortunate, but there comes a time when the odds are against you and the only reasonable course of action is to quit." "Quit?" "Yes!" "Is that what they taught you in the Obsidian Order? To give up when things get tough?" "As a matter of fact, they did."

It's a real argument. And I'm one of those that thinks disagreements are healthy in relationships. Now, this exact scenario is a bit specific, but it still stands. These two were due for their first real fight.

"Don't." "Or what? You'll kill me?"

He really doesn't believe Julian will pull that trigger. Much as Garak recommended shooting him earlier, that was before the security protocols went down.

"You'll be fine. It's just a flesh wound."

And here, Garak sees that Julian can make that call. Garak told him earlier that he might have to make a hard choice, that he might not be able to save everyone. And while I don't think Garak thought he'd be the one going down, he's impressed. And all the fire of their argument has died.

"That was awfully close. What if you'd killed me?" "What makes you think I wasn't trying?" "Doctor, I do believe there's hope for you, yet." "I'm so relieved."

Garak's impressed. Garak's surprised. Garak's really turned on.

I mean, Julian's dropped his voice into this husky range he hardly ever uses, and it is working its magic on the Cardassian. If they weren't in mortal danger, he might've asked the Doctor to take him right then, right there, against the wall.

"Now, we have to get to the control room. Are you coming or not?"

And like quarrelling lovers, they don't have to discuss or announce the end of the fight. Both of them know it's over, and Garak won't be calling for the door, again.

"Well, who am I to question Julian Bashir, secret agent? Lead on!"

The way that Cardassian is looking at that Human... he wants to lick him up with a spoon. He wants him in every way and none of them clothed. He's too horny to protest the mission.

Shoot me? Oh, darling, I'm yours! Look, everyone has their kinks. No shaming Garak's!

"I'm an intelligence agent, and if there's any one thing I've learned it is that there comes a point when the odds are against you, and there is no reasonable course of action but to quit."

Oh, darling, you were listening! Seriously. That's Garak's look as he watches with pride.

"How do you think I've managed to stay alive so long when all of my compatriots are dead? It is because I have known when to walk away."

I have a somewhat photographic memory...but it isn't that good. Yes, I'm aware this is a television program, Julian has a genetically altered brain, and it's all a flight of fancy. But, it's still dang impressive.

I mean, if Garak wasn't already horny for honey, he's positively bursting with desire, now!

"I suppose the only thing left to do, now, is to kill you."

Watch how Garak responds to that, ready to leap, surprised by how steady Julian is standing, waiting for the shot. It's only a simulation, sure, but one with the safeties turned off. The good Doctor could die. And he's not running from it.

"You can leave the Holosuite, now." "Thank you."

It's another long Garashir shot. But these two seasoned pros can handle it, and they carry each beat of the scene through—from returning to the banter of who's teaching who, to their next lunch.

"Lunch tomorrow?" "Of course."

Julian's the one to broach it, signaling he'll forgo a lunch on the holodeck if it means time with Garak. Then, Garak turns it on his head, offering to return to the Holosuite with him.

This is so fucking couple-y. How many times do we go back and forth with our partner, both trying to make the other happy? Both trying to make the other feel seen, and heard, and valued?

"Oh, I think it's safe to say Julian Bashir, secret agent will return." "Mmm."

And while it's not a full minute on this shot, it's still another delightful one where these two nail blocking with no markers I can see, and remind us just how good they are.

I think this episode was important for them both. The first time Julian stood up to Garak in "Cardassians" was important. He needed to demonstrate he wasn't subservient to the Cardassian, that he was a critical thinker.

This, too, was important. Because from the moment they realized the safety protocols were disengaged, the game changed from harmless to extremely dangerous. And Garak didn't know if he could trust Julian to make the tough call.

Nothing in their relationship has ever put them in this place—where they are actually facing down death side-by-side.

When Garak chooses to save himself, it is a bit selfish, sure. He has made these choices, before, to stay alive. But once he knows that Julian is solid, he's solid.

Yes, he's horny as fuck when Julian grazes him with a projective object. But he is also impressed. If Julian was willing to shoot him, who he knows considers him a friend, then he's ready for whatever they are going to face.

Garak needed that assurance. And then when Julian was willing to let Sisko kill him if it meant saving everyone else, he got to see what a hero truly looks like. Like he said, he's no hero. But Julian just might be, at least in Garak's eyes.

The next time these two get to share a scene it's been months and... it's weird. Look, I never got the whole "Let's pair Garak with a probably-teenage girl" plan. It's creepy. It's weird. It's a fucked up plan to try to convince anyone he's straight.

Like, would he get with a woman? Sure. But that lizard wants to be with adults, please. And he's been pretty fixated on Bashir for a bit, hoping the good Doctor realizes his horizons have already widened and when he does, spreads his legs in kind.

As a girl who was 13 when this aired and who was assaulted by her grandmother's friend the year before, this just didn't play. So, maybe my perceptions are a bit colored on this one, but I just couldn't get behind it. It creeped me out.

Let's get back to flirty Garashir, shall we?

Now, we are setting up the above-mentioned quesitonable relationship. Now, my husband and father both said they always saw it as Garak wanting to take care of her in a parternal way. But as a girl, I saw it as something far seedier. Let's see what I think on this watch, shall we?

Y'know what, screw it, I'm just focusing on the Garashir. Because these two are being adorably married right now!

Garak and Bashir are doing something social besides lunch. They're attending a sporting event together! And this definitely feels like one of those things that one attends for the sake of one's spouse.

Matthew and I are blessed to have a lot of overlap in our interests, but there are times one of us is in a sitution—usually Matt—where there are definitely other things he could be doing, but his want to be with me overrides his desire to be elsewhere.

In short—Garak tagged along for his boytoy's choice of entertainment.

"Stop watching her."

Oooh, someone's jealous! Julian, darling, Garak had to watch you make out with half the senior staff. You can simmer down about him glancing at someone.

"What does she expect? She's the only Cardassian woman on the station. She's must know she's bound to attract some attention." "Some, yes. Yours, no."

Wow, Julian! Getting a bit possessive of your favorite Cardassian, are we? Or do you worry Garak's just trying to stir shit up with his favorite rival, Gul Dukat?

And that pointed look Bashir offers Garak reminds me of the last time he had to be firm with Garak (that time in front of Gul Dukat) about something. This is partner-level shit.

"I simply thought it would be polite to say hello, but clearly you don't think I'm capable of conducting any kind of pleasant discourse without some kind of nafarious ulterior motive."

Garak is getting a bit defensive and worked up about this. But, I'm focused on Julian, who is giving the, "really, now!?" look that any spouse knows well. Like, we're arguing about this now!?

And Julian gets so into Garak and giving him his full attention that he misses the big finish.

"What happened?" "A brilliant move on the part of the Major. You should have been paying attention."

Yeah, you cannot tell me Garak suddenly developed a love of the game. He did that to be bitchy because he's annoyed with his human boytoy.

Garak is used to having the upper hand in most situations. There are a few who he treats on a more equal footing—most notably Odo, Quark, and Bashir—and I find it interesting that those are the only three actors I truly think can match Robinson in skill and performance.

This is not to speak ill of any of the other performers. Not at all! But there are always standouts in any production. As mentioned before, that's how I first noticed my husband on the stage—he was mezmerizing.

Andrew Robinson is exceptional. The layers to his performance are what makes Garak really pop off the page and onto the screen. Garak was my father's favorite character of the series and he was not even a series regular, but a guest star whose impact on the show is unmistakeable.

Julian was my favorite character of the show, as mentioned before, but part of what made him thus was Siddig's performance. We'll get to some more meaty episodes for him later, but he has that defining trait of every great actor—we believe him.

So, when you put these two on-screen together, it's exciting. Even in this scene where we're setting up Garak and Gul Dukat's daughter, I can immerse myself in the relationship between these two characters because they never lose sight of all the moving pieces in the scene.

Yes, there's a sports match. Yes, we are reminding a 90's audience of who the fetching young Cardassian woman is. But there's also the interpersonal relationship between Garak and Bashir that is at play. How they relate to one another as characters informs how they react to the outside stimuli. As I said—masters.

"Garak to Doctor Bashir, I need a medical emergency team sent to my shop immediately."

There's so much at play, here. This is just expertly written. Someone who really understood Garak's character.

Annnnd, I just checked and it's Robert Hewitt Wolfe, again. Of course! But, honestly, this just encapsulates so much about Garak in about three seconds.

Yes, he is calling his darling directly and not the Infirmary. But that's not just because he thinks Bashir is cute. Let's break this down.

First off, Garak immediately reaches for Odo's combadge instead of leaving the shop to get help. That's quick thinking. Second, he called Julian directly and then asked him to send an emergency medical team to his shop.

Garak is thus reaching out to someone he knows will take him seriously, who won't ask questions, and by being vague, the Cardassian has protected Odo's privacy.

Think about it—he doesn't know where Bashir is when he calls. What if he is with a criminal who might want to take advantage of Odo being out of commission?

This is all of Garak's skills at play, here. And it's all done in about three seconds. Fucking masterful.

"As I recall, Proconsul Merrock was poisoned." "Funny, I don't remember that. But, then again, so many Romulan dignataries died unexpectedly that year." "Must be hard to keep them all straight."

Wait... is Bashir in on this? I mean, I imagine he must have some idea of why the Cardassian was allowed on the trip, right?

"Maybe we should let the Constable get some rest."

Oooh, he's got his "honey, not now" voice on! So, Julian's not in on the game. Which means a moment ago he really was getting caught up in the story, true or not.

But with that glare, he is clearly trying to silence the Cardassian. And it drips with the sexual tension between two people who are banging and look forward to some makeup sex after the argument, or two people who probably should be banging to cut through some of that sexual tension.

And after Odo dismisses him, you can hear Julian hiss out an annoyed sigh. It's not at Odo—it's at Garak. Because he's blaming Garak for winding up his patient.

So why does Bashir think Sisko allowed Garak on this mission? Out of the goodness of his heart?

"How do I look, Doctor?" "Does it matter?"

Honey, your Cardassian lover is asking you if he looks cute and you respond with does it matter?! What is wrong with you!? Tell the man he looks fashonable and kiss him full on the mouth, already.

"Then, I'll be right outside... it can wait, Garak." "Of course."

It's another case of Julian getting the upper hand with Garak—and he lets him. Oh, we all know that Garak doesn't willingly give up the upper hand unless he wants to. And he likes when Julian is the dominant one between them.

Yes, there are times when Garak likes to be the authority—always trying to teach Julian things. But theres a shift in Our Man Bashir where Garak realizes he may have a thing or two to learn from the handsome Doctor.

I think it's the one relationship in his life where he enjoys someone else being on top. *ahem* And, no, I didn't write that sentence intending the inuendo. But once it was written, it was right there!

It takes until episode 8 of Season 5 for us to see Garak, again. Julian beams onto the Runabout and does a cursory glance over the crew. His eyes hang noticeably on Garak.

No, I'm not making this up, folks. He really does linger on looking at Garak before shifting to the crew member nearest him to start scans, which is what he should do.

"Could these stimuli cause more serious injuries?" "I don't think he could spontaneously break a bone, but he could certainly stop his heart or break a key blood vessel in his brain."

What the fuck was that, Siddig!? I mean, rewatch that last bit. I know I did several times. Yes, Bashir is listing off factual information, but at the very end there is a tinge of sadness.

Because while only Garak has demonstrated this so far, it could happen to any of the four. But he's still talking solely about Garak. And he's looking right at him.

That has to be actor choice, right? That he played it with such softness and sadness while looking in the direction Garak would be.

Fun Fact: Andrew Robinson likely wasn't even in the room. The way film and television is staged, the best way to do it is to shoot out the actors you don't need. Start with the angles that need the most people and then whittle down to the shots with the fewest cast members.

So, those eyelines are often an actor looking at nothing. Even looking at nothing Siddig lends a weight to that fraction of a moment that has me kicking my feet, giddy as a schoolgirl.

Another few episodes, and we get to the episode where we have the Changeling playing Bashir.

Now, the last episode Julian was wearing the uniform the real Julian is wearing later, so I like to think that the Bashir who was so concerned about Garak was our Bashir, and that he was replaced shortly after.

Timeline-wise, that about lines up. And while we will come to know that the Bashir that Garak addresses on the Runabout isn't our man, Garak doesn't know that at the time.

"I really must remember to stop underestimating you, Doctor... You've come a long way from the naive young man I met five years ago."

A compliment. Trying to smooth things over with his darling.

"They're releasing him from isolation." "Good." "Who?" "A friend."

And as they shove him into a wall, who should look up but the real Bashir. And who does he see? Garak. I mean, look at the laser focus here. Julian's eyes don't shift once they find Garak's.

And as Julian pricks his finger for blood, it's Garak who watches with the most interest. He needs confirmation that this is his dear Doctor.

And as soon as they are reunited... they can't stay apart.

"I should never have come here. I should have let that monster die forgotten and alone." "Frankly, I'm glad you came. Misery loves company."

And Julian truly is miserable in a way he's probably never known before. But now he has one of his best friends, at least, in this darkness.

"All my life I've done nothing but try to please that man. I let him mold me, let him turn me into a mirror image of himself. And how did he repay me? With exile."

I know this doesn't seem like it's Garashir coded, but it is. And I will explain why... in two episode's time.

Look, you don't have to wait two weeks and watch a thirty second clip looking for clues! It's just a scroll or two down and I'll explain why I transcribed Garak's rant about his father.

Yes, this is a spoiler-sprinkled Meta, so if you didn't know: Tain, you are the father!

"But I forgave him. And here in the end I thought maybe, just maybe he could forgive me."

This takes me right back to The Wire and a dying Garak saying he needed to know that someone forgave him. So, we can infer that if anyone's opinion matters anywhere close to his father's to him... it's Julian's.

"I've been a fool. Let this be a lesson to you, Doctor. Perhaps the most valuable one I can ever teach you. Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all." "If that's true, it's a lesson I'd rather not learn."

Listen to the softness of Bashir's voice. Look at how he looks over Garak in that moment, clearly pitying whatever drove him to say such a thing.

And the director gives them a beat, here, where they regard one another before the moment is broken. Look how Garak pulls his head back ever so slightly and his eyes widen as he takes in Bashir's words.

There's a charge here between the actors. A moment. A beat. A breath where something is given that others might have taken.

A lesser director might have broken the moment too early. A lesser actor might have missed what was there. This is about so many factors coming together to deliver a beat that means something.

Great television isn't about awards and acclaim—it's about something undeniable on the screen that is the culmination of hundreds of folks working together to produce something that steals our breath.

You don't see the gaffers, electricians, camera folks, Production Assistants, Craft Services people, writers, directors, makeup artists, hair stylists, costumers, Directors of Photography and more that bring every second of screen to life. But you see their work without realizing how much went into it.

That beat between Bashir's line and the door opening is important. It tells us who Julian is and the lines he isn't willing to cross. This is a lesson he refuses to learn. And Garak doesn't hate him for it. No, he envies him.

Julian's optimism and can-do attitude sometimes drive Garak nuts. Garak tends to think he lives closer to reality than those who drank the Starfleet Kool-Aid (or Root Beer, as the case may be). But there are times he must think, wouldn't it be nice?

"I thought you might want to know... if you wish to speak to Tain, do it now before it's too late."

There are no words exchanged between Julian and Garak. The Cardassian looks briefly to him before taking off for the door, the human close behind.

"Everything's gone dark. I can't see you. Are you alone?"

Garak could ask Julian to leave. But he doesn't. He doesn't know what type of conversation is about to come... and yet he trusts Julian completely.

We've talked about trust and Garashir before, back on the Holodeck. Of course, Garak hasn't had many people he could trust in his life. But much as he wishes he was as hardened as his old man—he's a bit sentimental.

Sentimenal about Mila. Sentimental about Tain. And sentimental about Julian. He's even started to care for other members of the crew... but not like this. No, this is intimate. This is trust.

Garak looks back to Bashir, making it clear that he wants him there, that he needs to be silent, that he's not asking him to leave. Julian widens his eyes briefly to let Garak know the message was received.

"Yes. There's no one else but you and me."

Tain goes down his list of grievances, and Garak tells him everything's in order.

"All your enemies are dead."

He says this, again, to Julian. It feels like part of the show. Are they really all dead? Who's to say. But Garak tells Tain they are.

"Then you can die happy... unless you still consider me your enemy."

He's fishing for that apology he so desperately wants. And the view shifts to a three-shot. It's the first time we get a really good look at just how intimate this is, Julian looking on as these two men share a private conversation.

It's an interesting choice to pull out right then, right before it gets incredibly personal. The staging reminds us of just how close Bashir is to the action.

"I'll do as you ask... on one condition. That you don't ask me this favor as a mentor or a superior officer, but as a father asking his son." "You're not my son!" "Father! Father, you're dying. For once in your life, speak the truth."

Julian leans forward, taking in the new information, looking between the two of them. He's absorbing what Garak's just done—and he's realizing it's intentional. Garak purposefully let him in on one of his greatest secrets.

For all the times Julian asked for truth and found it wanting... here Garak offers it wholeheartedly.

For goodness sake, we never even saw Julian comment on Garak's first name. But Tain calls him "Elim" repeatedly, here. So, if Garak hadn't figured Julian already sussed out that little nugget, he was willingly offering that Elim wasn't a friend at all... but him.

Death beds are often a place of truth, right? But for Garak, the truths told weren't the ones he needed to hear, but the ones he wanted to tell.

"I should have killed your mother before you were born. You have always been a weakness I can't afford." "So you've told me. Many times."

And now the impact of Julian's words hit the viewers anew—Garak learned the lesson of sentimentality as weakness from his Father. He tried to pass that lesson on to the person whose opinion matters most next to Tain's—and Julian rejected it.

Bashir stopped the cycle. And I think that caught Garak off-guard. Like on the Holodeck when he admitted there were some things the Obsidian Order never taught him... he's learned something, today, from the good Doctor.

And, look, I know this is a Garashir meta, but I have to call out Andrew Robinson for this scene. It's fucking gorgeous.

We already know he is just one of the finest actors to ever grace Star Trek with his presence. But the weight of this whole scene hits so hard. The emotions. The breaths. The emphasis. The line reads. Oh, it all hits the mark.

My mother never said, "I'm proud of you" when I was growing up. I rarely saw pride on her face, even. There was always some problem, some critique, some improvement. She wanted me to be like her, and lamented when I wasn't.

She's not the same person, now, but that doesn't change the past. And in this moment with Elim and Enabran where the son hears his father utter the words that he was proud of him. Oh, it aches in a way that only those of us who grew up craving that approval and always falling short despite our best efforts can grasp.

And Robinson nails it.

Julian hears this whole exchange. He hears every word. And he only speaks after Tain has fully faded. It's a single word:

"Garak."

It's wise of the production team to keep Bashir out of this intimate exchange until after Tain dies. We don't need the distraction of seeing Julian there.

Yes, yes. I love Julian, too! But that wasn't his moment. And the way it was edited and shot was brilliant storytelling that allowed us to invest in that intimate moment before pulling back out to the continuing plot of the episode.

I seem to remember something about non-Cardassians seeing a dead Cardassian body, so it's appropriate that Garak covers Tain up before anyone else comes in—but Julian saw.

This. Is. Trust. This is family. This is an intimacy that transcends, "I wanna fuck this guy" from Episode 1. Garak wanted Julian to know him in a way that probably only his mother and father ever did.

Tain is now gone. Mila is on a planet he cannot visit. But he still has Julian. And now Julian knows one of his greatest truths. Beyond things he's done and places he's been, the truth of being known for who he is... that is truly dangerous. But Garak trusts Julian.

And though the two Klingons don't know exactly what has transpired, they do know that Julian was present as Tain died. They do know that whatever Garak had to say to Tain, Julian was present.

As much as Odo knew better than to invite Garak for lunch, I think Worf knows better than to ask why Garak would allow Julian to be present for such a thing. Really exemplifying the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" of the era.

And if you're too young to remember that particular Military Policy, I'd recommend checking out the Wikipedia entry on it, because it's pretty thorough.

By the next episode, we're all ready to learn how they get out of this one. And while the gang explains to the newcomers what needs to be done, we get treated to this adorable two-shot of Garak and Bashir.

Look, there is no reason for them to be in this cute two-shot besides the fact that they look adorable together. We trade Garak out for Worf, which isn't as cute (no offense, Michael Dorn! You're amazing!).

"You, on the other hand, my dear Mr. Garak are a man of many hidden talents." "Mmm."

Look, I know we're all on a hurtling asteroid waiting to die, but did anyone else's brain get broken by that statement?

We've had at least four "My Dear Doctor"s, but this is our first "My Dear Mr. Garak". Also, the return of "Mr. Garak" for the first time since the first episode. And my brain totally added the classic fortune cookie add-on of "in bed" to Julian's statement.

Especially with Garak's reaction? C'mon! That's a total, "you would know, dear" look!

"As of today, Cardassia has joined the Dominion."

For the brief second that Garak thinks he's going to be released, he looks back to Bashir. And the two have an entire conversation with glances.

There's the, "Is this okay? Should I go?" and the "Yes, dear, go!" and the "Alright. I'm going". And I can't help wondering if this was in the script.

This one owes its existence to Ira Steven Behr and (of course) Robert Hewitt Wolfe. So, one of them could tell us, of course! But it's one of those moments that is so amazing, but really could have come from anywhere.

An actor making a choice. A director spotting an opportunity. A writer making a point.

Wherever it came from, I love it. We don't see what Worf thinks about this possibility because we don't need to. Garak and Bashir have the conversation without words and say all that needs to be said and heard.

Side Note: Before we get into the first "Garak in the wall" scene, I have to call out Alexander Siddig (again) for how fucking dead-eyed he is as the Changeling. Like, one shot and I'm reminded that this is not our Julian and that fucker needs to die. Oy vey!

"Garak? How's it coming along?"

I love that Julian is the one who opens the door. Julian is the one who keeps the path out open. Julian is the one who sits there, calling in to Garak. And I love that he's playing with his fingernails when the scene opens.

It's those bloody details that have always stood out to me about performers. When they do something so human in the midst of all the posturing of performance. When the character becomes as real as the actor. It could just be that Siddig was annoyed by a hangnail and I'm reading too much into it, but I love it, nonetheless.

Also, the establishing shot of Garak is so gorgeous. That pan up? The full body shot so we can see that there's no room to sit, no room to rest, no room to shift into a more comfortable position.

We can visually connect with the claustrophobic nature of the setting even before we know Garak has an issue with tight spaces.

And that lighting. They found a way to make that read as a single light source in such a beautiful, believable, and stark way. We see the darkness threatening to envelop Garak if not for that blossom of lights at his face.

Yes, I know this isn't necessarily Garashir. But we need to know what this space looks like for later.

"Oh, come on!"

Julian is anxious to get Garak out of the wall, and this is before he knows about the Cardassian's claustrophobia.

They already said that Garak was taking too long because they don't want him to be caught in the wall. The guards are already asking questions, so they need to get him out.

As soon as they can get him out, Julian is there to help him stand up, holding onto him, being there for him.

"That was thoroughly unpleasant." "Are you alright?"

Until Garak takes a step back with his patented "I'm fine" lie, Julian still has hold of him with both his hands.

"It's just much hotter in there than I thought. I got a little light-headed."

Elim [No Middle Name] Garak! That didn't work before Julian had a better understanding of Cardassian biology and physiology. Do you really think you can fool him, now?

Before Garak can finish the sentence, Julian has his hands on him, again, this time checking his pulse. And I cannot recall him ever doing so this way before. Really putting his new knowledge to work!

But theres also the steadying hand on Garak's shoulder. It reminds me of him trying to put a hand on that same shoulder in The Wire and Garak shying away in his withdrawal state. Here, he doesn't move away.

"Maybe you should wait until tomorrow."

Julian's hands trail off of Garak, but they don't fall away. They glide down him before Garak allows his fear to turn to anger.

"Do you want to get off this hell hole?" "You know I do." "Then let me get back to work."

The couple-y bickering is back. And they are standing way closer than needed for this shot, 4:3 framing, indeed! But Julian is in protective mode—both the doctor in him, and the lover friend.

"Rest. For five minutes. And from here on in, you can take a 15 minute break every hour. Doctor's orders."

Garak nods. He's relenting. He's giving in. He'll take whatever break he can get and he knows Julian well enough now to know that he won't give up on him.

But look at the concern in Julian's eyes. He knows Garak isn't telling him everything. He doesn't know what Garak is concealing this time. But it's incredible how this mirrors The Wire.

In both cases, Garak is trying to conceal something about himself and lashes out at Julian when the Doctor tries to push the issue.

But this time when Julian tries to help, Garak lets him. He doesn't fully let him in. But he doesn't push him away, either.

"I'm sorry, but that's absolutely unacceptable. I'm under enough strain as it is. I can't have you quitting on me!"

There are already tears in my eyes. For anyone who has ever had a panic attack and wishes desperately their rational mind could circumvent it, this is familiar.

I've struggled with panic and anxiety attacks my entire life. But growing up, I wasn't allowed to show negative emotion. I had to learn to contain it as best I can.

But no matter how much your rational mind protests, that suffocation comes and you find yourself trapped in its grip, unable to escape. And this is another case where you can trust your actor with the material, and he's going to fucking deliver.

Robinson is talking to a dying light. He has no one to feed him anything, to offer him anything, to draw focus in case he should flub it. No, the seasoned and practiced actor monologues on a Star Trek show to a dying light and to himself.

"Your friends are nearby."

Truth. Garak speaks truth. And even if some part of him isn't willing to trust it, he closes his eyes as he internalizes it. His friends are nearby.

Because in this tight, enclosed space... there's no one to overhear. There's nobody listening. There's nobody for whom he has to perform. These words are for him and him alone. And in them he speaks of Julian and Worf as friends.

I won't transcribe the whole thing, but even from the outside, the others know something is wrong. Of course, it's Bashir who shimmies into the wall to join Garak.

"Garak, you have to stop. You're making too much noise. Garak!" "The light. The light went out."

And that's when Julian starts to put together the pieces. He sees the vacant look in Garak's eyes. He notes the sweat and strain.

"I know. Come on. I think you can take your break a little early."

Julian puts an arm around Garak, clasping his hand on the Cardassian's shoulder. And as they shimmy, Bashir's thumb grazes in a comforting manner over it.

Garak doesn't fight him. In The Wire, when Bashir tried to comfort him and touch his shoulder, he jerked away. But here, even as he is not fully himself, he allows the Doctor to care for him.

Growth. Character development. Trust.

"We have to come up with a new escape plan." "That won't be necessary."

Julian's eyes shift to Garak with immediate concern as the Cardassian stands up. He doesn't move the blanket, but allows it to slough off his body like old skin.

A similar blanket covered his father's dead body. But as Garak sits up, he rejects that fate. It isn't the defiant move of throwing the blanket away, because that's not what Garak is doing, here.

He isn't trying to be the hero. He's trying to overcome his fear long enough to save them.

Where before he might have tried to save himself, he's trying to save all of them. He could program the runabout transporter code just to get him out of there. Garak of Season 1 or 2 might've done that. But this Garak has friends—friends he wants to save.

It isn't about being the hero. It's about each of them doing what they can to help each other get out of there alive.

"I just have to finish what I started. After all, a verse about the Cardassian who panicked in the face of danger would ruin General Martok's song." "That would be unfortunate."

And while Julian is further back in the shot, I cannot help but notice the way he looks at Garak—with a touch of awe and pride.

"Now, if you'll excuse me... my dungeon awaits."

Julian and Garak exchange the briefest of glances as the former moves to open the hatch, again. They're past the point of needing words. Over and over, this episode demonstrates how far they've come on that front.

They know one another. They trust one another. They've learned when to push and when to pull back. It's an incredible foundation for a romantic relationship, right?

Season One Garak was looking for a good fuck and a little less loneliness. Season Five Garak knows the value of friends—especially his friendship with the good Doctor.

As Worf fights, likely to the death, Julian is rocking and wringing his hands on the cot as Garak works in the wall.

"Can we get him out?" "No time."

And Julian knocks twice on the wall to prepare Garak. Garak closes his eyes and steadies himself. No words needed.

"Take it to maximum warp, Garak. We've got to get a message to the station."

And he leans over Garak's shoulder as the Cardassian gets them the hell outta Dodge. What they've just endured was terrible. They may never speak of it, again. But the trust they've forged over the last five years is only deepening.

Which makes it mildly infuriating we never get the full response from Garak to Julian's big secret. Yes, he gets to tell Miles. But I want to talk about that scene a bit.

And, yes, this is what I mentioned about fathers and pride coming back around from literally two episodes earlier. Tain was a man who was rarely proud of his son, who practically disowned him to protect himself from a "weakness" that he couldn't afford.

As we mentioned, I grew up not really hearing "I'm proud of you". I never felt like I was good enough. I tried to mold myself into who I was supposed to be.

And it was my darling husband who helped me learn to stand up for myself in my 20's so by the time the children came around in my 30's I was strong enough to protect them properly from those who hurt me.

Now, we get a glimpse into what it was like to be little Julian.

"The word you're looking for is 'unnatural' meaning 'not from nature'."

Yes, we're going to get into it. Partially because it's such a fucking beautiful scene, practically a monologue, delivered by a skilled actor who didn't need a thousand cuts to get it right.

And, let me say this—sometimes a thousand cuts is just what a scene needs. But the Director deftly understood that there was strength in the stillness, here. Without a series of cuts, we can really focus on Julian (and Colm Meaney doing brilliant reaction-without-drawing-focus in the background).

"'Freak' or 'Monster' would also be acceptable. I was six. Small for my age, a bit awkward physically, not very bright. In the first grade when the other children were learning how to read and write and use the computer, I was still trying to tell a dog from a cat, and a tree from a house. I didn't really understand what was happening. I knew that I wasn't doing as well as my classmates. There were so many concepts that they took for granted that I couldn't begin to master and I didn't know why. All I knew was that I was a great disappointment to my parents."

My Middle child is Autistic, ADHD, Auditory Processing Disorder, suspected Reading Processing Disorder, with Anxiety Disorder. In second grade, he was reading at a Kindergarten level. His twin excelled and he struggled.

And I, as mother, repeatedly told them (and their little sister) how proud I was of them, not for a grade on a paper but for who they were. And I meant it.

Little Julian never had that acceptance.

The Flowers for Algernon part of my brain wonders how jarring it must have been for Julian at nearly 7 to know how he'd understood the world before, and then to go through the process of seeing it anew. He transitioned from grasping for concepts others easily understood to moving beyond them.

But he never had a choice. He couldn't understand what was being done until it had been done.

By the way, that shot of Julian? Where Siddig acted his ass off? Nearly two whole minutes of performance. It's Masterful.

Garak and Julian both grew up with parents who were impossible to please, who wanted their sons to do what they would have chosen for their lives. Neither man had a good relationship with his father. So, though Bashir and Garak are set up as very different—and in some ways they truly are—there are other places where they can relate to one another that are special, intimate.

"What's the matter?" "Well, it's just that lately I've noticed everyone seems to trust me. It's quite unnerving. I'm still trying to get used to it. Next thing I know people are going to be inviting me to their homes for dinner."

Because everyone knows better than to invite you anywhere for lunch. Right, Garak? That's Bashir time! Okay, fine. I know it's a bit of a reach. But that was my first thought when he said, "Dinner". So, into the Meta it goes.

"It's hard to believe he's the same man who attacked us." "In a way... he's not. The drug brought out the worst parts of him and allows them to take over. He wasn't in control of his actions."

This is a very... interesting way of attacking this issue. I mean, accountability is a very important thing, and I feel like we're kinda skirting that, here. And there is going to be an inquest. I'm just not a fan of the framing, I suppose.

But, if I pull out of the part of my brain that tries to analyze societal impact of Star Trek and its eras (I gave an entire persuasive speech about Star Trek at University, so I come by this honestly), I see a man trying to protect Garak.

Yes, we set up the "trust" others have for Garak in the beginning of the episode and showed how swiftly it could be broken. There was a throughline, here.

That's it for Garak and Julian in Season 5. Season 6 gives them the bitchiest of bitchy moments and I love the writers for it! Let's see, that would be... Ira Steven Behr and Hams Beimler. Thank you both for your service.

"Ah, there you are. I was beginning to give up hope, Doctor."

Oh. My. Gosh. Look, I'm bloody asexual, but even I can see that this is the most snack-a-licious Julian has ever looked, and he's sauntering right up to Garak with a lot of skin exposed. Oy vey!

And he walks right by because he is having none of this shit while he's out there trying to save lives.

"I would think that all those lunches we've shared would have entitled me to preferential treatment."

Are you two gonna kiss? You're standing like you're gonna kiss. Just sayin'... it might be good for you... for your morale? If you... y'know... kissed. I mean, come on this blocking is not to account for the 4:3 format.

"Look, I have 12 wounded officers and crewmen out there, all of whom are in a lot worse shape than you, Garak." "Well, if you're trying to cheer me up, it's working."

I had to add that comma between "up" and "it's" and I wish I knew if that was Robinson or the script because it's just so bloody... Garak. Taking those breaths and breaks where nobody else would.

Also, can we talk about this shot!? This is a continuous shot that follows the two of them to multiple blocking points in the room while changing their positioning, the dominance of one over the other, the framing of one closer to the camera, etc.

It's bloody masterful. You have to have lighting in all those areas so they aren't in weird shadow. You have to have the blocking marked out so they aren't out of focus. You have the have actors who can carry that long a shot without needing to reference a line or struggling with the giggles.

"I'll admit the odds are not good, but they coudl be worse." "Ah, let me guess. You've used your genetically enhanced brain to calculate our chances for survival... I'm really not interested Doctor. Ever since it's become public knowledge that you're genetically engineered, you've used every opportunity to show off."

First off, this reminds me that we never got Garak's reaction to that whole revelation, and I ache for it. It would have been interesting to see if Garak suspected all along, or if he was truly proud Julian hid something, even from him.

Also, damn this bitch is salty. Honey, it's okay that you're not always the smartest in the room. Your human boytoy can one-up you sometimes. It's not a bad thing.

And I love how Julian keeps working, even adjusting Garak's head gently with his fingers as he tries to repair the damage to his head. There's a "darling, just do what I need you to do" feeling to it.

Seriously, this is a couple bickering. And if Cardassians flirt by bickering, Garak is waving pheremones thick enough to nosh on as aphrodesiac appetizers to an adventurous night.

And after an entire minute of a single shot, we change angles. Damn, I love these long Garashir shots!

"You're certain about that figure?" "Do you want me to take you through the entire set of calculations?" "Not really."

Bashir smirks as he shifts past Garak, and you can feel just how much they are enjoying this. Their time for rigorous debate at lunch has long since passed. Hell, we haven't seen them share a dining table in years, now.

Yes, the Changeling and Garak sat together, but that doesn't count. It was Season 4 when last these two sat and ate together, and now we're at the top of Season 6.

So, it's not surprising Garak has found a new topic for spirited conversation.

"'Genetically Engineered' indeed." "Excuse me?"

Okay, the way Julian pops into frame there cracks me up. Like, he had to answer that and Garak knew he would. Garak is baiting him into debat and Julian is falling for it. And at 4:06 we started another long shot of these two.

"Well, look at you. You act as if you haven't a care in the world. It's exactly that kind of smug, superior attitude that makes people like you so... unpopular." "Are you trying to insult me?

Yes, darling. Flirting with you helps distract him from all y'all's impending doom.

"A 32.7 percent chance of survival, I call that insulting." "Don't take it so personally, Garak. It's strictly a matter of mathematics." "No, it's strictly a matter of our lives. You're not genetically engineered. You're a Vulcan."

I love how Julian appears to rest his arm on Garak as he scans him, likely making sure that the treatment he did a moment earlier took, despite Garak's inability to stay still.

"If I'm a Vulcan, then how do you explain my boyish smile?"

Damn, Julian! You are finally catching up to the flirting, here. And I love that the smile he offers him definitely has the edge of flirtation to it. This isn't his dopey grin when he watches Garak rewrite Cardassian security code, or his big smile when Garak joins a mission.

Look at the way Julian's eyes seek out Garak's.

"Not so boyish anymore."

And, oh, you can hear the way he rocks back on those boots before sauntering off... a few feet away. Like, seriously, where the fuck is he going?

It's not about the destination. He really just did that to be petty to Julian, who is left definitely feeling that. Because, he wants Garak to think he's handsome, damnit.

Julian shakes his head to shake it off. But this remains one of my favorite scenes of the two of them.

And while that shot was roughly 40 seconds, and not as long as the last, it still constantly amazes me how little cutting they often do with these two.

I've done both stage and film/tv. They often take completely different skillsets, but there are times where they overlap, or where a strength in theater really comes in handy.

Remembering dialogue is part of the game with theater. Remembering blocking is integral. Remembering to listen and not just speak is essential.

Both of these two actors have experience in both, and that's why scenes like these sing. They know how to feed one another without drawing attention. They know how to react and not only act.

Yes, they have insane chemistry on-camera. But they also know how to use that along with their other skills. They deliver on every level, and it's a fucking shame they're used together so little after this episode.

Also, it's such a fascinating choice to see Julian debating so dispassionately with Garak while losing his cool with Sisko. This has to do with the different relationships at play, sure. But I find it fascinating.

One could consider it a coping mechanism—that Julian needs that rigorous debate as much as Garak does in that moment. And Julian knows Garak has no trouble making the tough decisions. Maybe that's what he hopes Sisko will do... but it's not his place.

"Garak? Come to see us off?" "Not quite."

And as the two turn to face Sisko... this could really be their wedding. I mean, yeah, not the best venue. The food's nonexistant and the music sucks. But, Sisko does have the power to perform the ceremony if they're so inclined.

"I invited Mr. Garak to join us considering we're heading into Cardassian territory I thought he might prove useful."

Julian is beaming. He's beaming. Earlier these two were verbally sparring, and now he couldn't be happier that Garak is onboard for this dangerous mission.

"Well, it's been known to happen."

Julian grasps Garak's shoulder and pats it several time before moving on, still smiling. Just moments ago each of them was lamenting what they didn't have on the ship. But now he has Garak.

"Captain, may I make a suggestion?" "Only if you talk softly." "We saw Dukat-" "Shh." "Wearing one of these headsets during the attack on Deep Space 9-"

This is so married. I have a friend who is Autistic who has a lot of trouble with self-monitoring when it comes to volume, so she and her husband developed a hand signal so he could help hold her accountable in spaces where she needs to be more aware.

I thought of that as soon as I watched this. God bless Garak, but he missed the memo entirely when Sisko said to speak softly. But, one glance at Julian's finger raise to his lips and he gets the message.

"Perhaps Cardassian physiology is more... compatible."

Julian's head swivels to Garak as he processes what the Cardassian is offering. It's a good suggestion. And, honestly, what was Garak adding to the mission besides eye candy for Bashir?

Of course, when the episode was written, this was all planned out. I'm not coming for the writers! No, I'm looking at it purely from the point of view of the characters, who got to enjoy Garak's personality while waiting for him to be useful.

He's a good little Swiss Army Knife of a character, where you never quite know how he's going to be useful. But Sisko's seen enough of him by now to know it's better to bring him along than not.

"Are you volunteering?" "I suppose I am. This ship is equipped with two of them. If I wore one, then you wouldn't have to. At least, not all the time."

Julian puts it together quicker than Sisko, and he likes this idea. Sisko is his patient, at the moment, and as the Captain, he needs to keep him physically fit.

"I agree with Garak, Captain."

And Sisko hands over the headset. But watch how Julian follows the headset to Garak, then waits to be sure he's okay. Yes, of course, he's a bloody Doctor. But, I still love the choice as a performer.

"We have to go to full impulse 1.3 seconds before the bomb detonates."

Bet you're not complaining about his super brain now are you, Garak!?

"Dax?" "The computer agrees with Julian." "Of course it does. They think alike."

Damnit, Garak, I was giving you some credit on that one! Nevermind. And the look Julian gives Garak! Gosh, these two are reading old married couple so much in this episode.

"How long?" "17 Years, 2 months, and 3 days, give or take an hour."

This time, Garak looks to Julian for the answer. This time, he knows that genetically engineered mind will have the answer he needs, even if it's not the one he wants.

And Julian delivers the whole thing directly to Garak. His eyes don't move from him. Theirs is such a fascinating connection, and I wish more of Season 6 between them had been like this.

There's a heat and energy that's obviously couply, but so electric and different from what they had before. It's grown and shifted and they're on a more equal footing, by this point, and they see each other on a more even playing field.

"Garak! I need a hand."

Julian calls out for him as help to carry Jadzia. He trusts him to help him with this. A few years ago, all of them considered Garak a spy and wouldn't trust him with anything. Oh, how far they have come.

Also, are they actually outside!? I love when they let the Star Trek characters bust outside the sound stages and breathe fresh air and have actual sunlight for a bit!

And I'm not going to comment much on the whole Nog/Garak adventure of this episode because, honestly, hearing Garak say words to Nog that hold such meaning for Garashir does irk me.

Now, Robinson is a pro enough to deliver them in completely different ways. "There may be hope for you, yet" to Bashir was sultry and horny. To Nog, it's upbeat and slick.

But it's not my favorite choice when it comes to resuscitating previous dialogue in a new setting. I will admit that much.

"That's the eleventh ship to fall out of formation." "Nice of you to keep track, Garak." "He can't help being negative. It's in his nature." "On the contrary, I always hope for the best. Experience unfortunately has taught me to expect the worst."

Garak turns fully to face Julian to deliver this one. Wow, these two are in a catty phase!

"They outnumber us two to one." "Now who's being negative?"

Julian doesn't acknowledge him, but I love Garak trying to get that little jab in there. Seriously, Season Six is all about the snark. Would've been nice to watch that tension build to some sort of release, eh? But, yeah, nope! Because that's it for Season 6 for these two.

"Thank you for your company, gentlemen."

His first scene with Julian of Season 7, and it's a group get-together where he starts to tap into his claustrophobia. Of the three men across from him, only one has seen that in action before.

"He checks out fine." "Well, I don't feel fine."

There's an intersting turn. Garak used to put up a front, but this time he isn't. But Julian won't be the one to help him. To endear one of my least-favorite characters to the audience, we pair her with one of the most beloved.

And, nothing against the actress. I've seen her in other things and loved her. But young Rachel abhored the character, and grown Rachel's opinion has not wavered.

Oh my gosh. Season 7 Episode 16. Finally a complete scene between these two! It's been since the beginning of Season 6! And they are so in sync they tap the table at the same time, order their drinks simultaneously, and sit down while chatting with some animation we haven't seen in some time.

Bitchy, old couple Garashir has given way to an old, familiar rhythm. And I think part of that is because Julian is back to pursuing what is expected of him—a Dax. But that's a subject for someone else's Meta.

"The eternal optimist." "Guilty as charged." "How sad."

Alright, there's a little bitchiness still in there.

"But, I live in hope that one day you'll come to see this universe for what it truly is rather than what you'd wish it to be." "Well, I shall endavor to become more cynical with each passing day—look gift horses squarely in the mouth, and find clouds in every silver lining." "If only you meant it."

Anyone else feel a little lighter? I feel a little lighter. Because this? This is fucking gorgeous! I ache that it's been since the first episodes of Season 6 since we've seen these two interacting and sparking and reminding us why we love them together. Such different people who challenge one another, excite one another, and make each other smile like no one else can.

But, yeah, sure. Let's give Julian to the bloody Dax. Look, Little Rachel didn't clock Garashir and I was still anti Ezri/Julian. No hatred to those who loved them! But I never understood it.

And thank goodness someone somewhere realized who Garak had to share his last scene with—Julian. It wouldn't have been right if it had been anyone else, despite their distinct lack of screentime together in Seasons 6 and 7.

"Well, aren't you going to congratulate me, Doctor? My exile is now officially over. I've returned home... or rather, to what's left of it." ... "You and I both know the Cardassians are a strong people. They will survive. Cardassia will survive." "Oh, please, Doctor, spare me your insufferable Federation optimism. Of course it'll survive... but not as the Cardassia I knew."

Garak is right. And if he wasn't so (rightfully) upset, he would see that Julian's heart isn't in what he's saying. He just doesn't know what to say.

"We had a rich and ancient culture. Our literature, music, art was second to none. And now... so much of it is... lost. So many of our best people, our most gifted minds."

Robinson is pulling us apart, here. The anguish is palpable, and Siddig is feeding off of it. We can see Julian's plastered on optimism peeling away as the tears fill his eyes. He knows his words hold no meaning, here. So, he finally reaches out.

It's the shoulder touch. It's their thing. But Garak's not in the right place to receive it.

"You've been such a good friend. I'm going to miss our lunches together." "I'm sure we'll see each other, again." "I'd like to think so. But one can never say. We live in uncertain times."

Garak places his hand on Julian's shoulder, now. Their thing. But while Julian's was offered as comfort, Garak's is a goodbye. Garak lets his hand slide off Julian's shoulder, and the human can do nothing but stand there.

In the end, Garak was always going to choose Cardassia. In my mind, the only way he and Julian end up together is if the Doctor follows him there. But, Bashir just began a relationship with Ezri, a comfortable relationship in an uncomfortable time.

Love comes in many forms, and sometimes when you find it, you don't even know it's found. That's Garashir. That's the story of missed opportunities and all the things that held them back from finally crossing that final line to becoming the lovers they might have been.

I've heard the rumors, of course, for why that was so. But, since I don't know what's true, I won't repeat them here. Instead, I'll lament what wasn't, and be grateful for a relationship that was so beloved and enduring that Robinson and Siddig themselves championed it, fed it, fostered it, developed it, and supported it so long that it found itself canon in another Star Trek show.

I like to imagine that someday Julian followed Garak to Cardassia, that they realized what they had and couldn't do without. Imagine them both separated so long that their missed lunches grow from an ache to an agony—that the walls of expectation and convention break down enough that they find themselves in one another's arms.

Sometimes we aren't ready for something in life—a career, a move, a great love. And at the end of Star Trek: Deep Space 9, these two aren't in the right place to start something. There are too many other factors at play.

But love at last is often sweeter than the right love at the wrong time. Maybe that's where Garak found Julian—the moment they were both finally ready.

Thanks for reading, loves. I know it's long and likely riddled with typos. But, it's late and I have a Strike Book to resume. This little obsessive ride was a blast, but with my OCD once it's written, it's done. I feel released, and I'm thankful.

And, remember, you are beautiful inside and out. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

[solarsturniolo]

ik you've been critical of the triplets before (breath of fresh fucking air tbh)

wanted to know what you thought about the whole mallory situation? she made a tiktok saying she was concerned about their physically aggressive behavior and how she didn't think it was right that they would act like that, and they responded to her tiktok in a friday video. idk i certainly have thoughts but i wanna hear yours if you're ok with sharing them

Oh i was waiting for this one.

To start, THIS IS NOT A HATE POST. But it is something that needs to be said. I’d also like to clarify that i’m not trying to ‘clock’ anyone in this post. This is not meant to spiral out into another episode from them or their fans, but if they aren’t going to be good role models for young impressionable children, I will.

First and foremost, absolutely nothing about the way matt reacted in that video was okay. He is 21 years old, he is a grown adult that pays bills and taxes. He should not be laying his hands on anyone in an aggressive matter, even if they are just brothers. Whether you agree or not, that was abuse. Here is the Oxford dictionary definition of the word abuse, for those of you who need clarification.

Now of course, including content like that in a video is an option. And it was an option that they decided to take. Nick DID NOT have to leave that in the video, and if he hadn’t it wouldn’t have caused so many issues. What gets me the most is that some part of him KNEW it was too much because he edited half of that moment OUT of the video. We saw the extended clip through their photodump that shows just how obnoxiously aggressive Matt’s tantrum was. Not only did he hit Nick (quite hard and in a very vulnerable spot), but he also took a gift that Nick had gotten (gag gift or not, it doesn’t matter) he threw it onto the ground and told him to go and pick it up. The average person knows better than to behave that way, and it was very alarming to see that behavior from someone that we all look up to.

This led to a large divide in the fandom. Some people were (understandably) very uncomfortable with Matt’s behavior. And some people defended it with their lives. Now i’m not saying me and my sisters never fought, but we don’t lay our hands on each other. Idk maybe im out of touch with some new-found sibling abuse agreement or something, but we don’t hit each other. We argue, we get mad at each other, we fight and we make up.

Personally, i don’t think there’s anything wrong with calling out your idols when they do something wrong. At the end of the day, we’re all human and we all make mistakes. It’s easy to forget that when you let fame and money get to your head, making you feel invincible because you know your bandwagon of 13 year olds are going to be at your every beck and call. It’s our job as supporters to remind them that mistakes are okay, but accountability still needs to be taken for actions like that.

When you are in a position where you pay your bills by posting your private life on the internet, you cannot get angry that people are going to have comments and opinions about the stuff that you post on the internet…Nick made a comment in yesterdays video about how people need to mind their own business, but…you…willingly posted…that clip to the internet. For millions of people to see. Nick did not have a gun to his head while editing that video, he did not need to include it but it was a decision that he made.

One reason why i don’t watch them anymore is because they refuse to take accountability for anything that they do. They have also been drawing this out much longer than they needed to. The fanbase would’ve talked about it for a week and forgotten about it with the next friday video. The only reason why it’s still getting attention is because they so badly want to seem ‘unbothered’ by it but they keep bringing it up in everything they do. Matt’s instagram story, his comment on Nick’s recent post, their recent tiktok…literally anything that they have posted in the past week and a half, Matt and Nick just CANNOT HELP THEMSELVES from making a snarky comment. It’s a very icky trait to have imo but i’ll keep my mouth shut on that (since it’s illegal to have opinions in this fandom.)

Personally, I think Mallory was valid in her opinion and responses. Maybe terrifying was a strong word to use, which she has addressed, but it’s not like the boys don’t use hyperboles ALL THE TIME. And nothing about her video was her trying to “cancel the triplets”, she was simply sharing her concerns with Matt’s behavior.

The fanbase LOVESSSS to jump to conclusions. Most of us that had an issue with Matt’s behavior were not trying to cancel them. We’re frustrated because they’re grown adults who refuse to take any constructive criticism or accountability. I’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, the boys dislike ANYONE who is NOT AN ENABLER. Especially Nick. They LOVE an enabler that doesn’t call them out on their crappy behavior.

Back to yesterday’s video, I was VERY unimpressed with their responses. Snarky comment after snarky comment, only proving more and more that they aren’t unbothered by the situation because they’re trying so hard to prove a point. Why not stay silent like you do with everything else? Your ‘friend’ (who you still communicate with but won’t publicly hang out with) who was cancelled for contacting minors? Didn’t have much to say about that did you? But the second something makes them look bad, they jump the gun and go right into defense mode. It’s so funny to me because people would respect them so much more if they just took some accountability, reflected on their actions, and made a change to their behavior.

Including her tiktok in their video was yet another choice they made, and it was a very immature one. You cannot tell me they didn’t think about the outcome of this situation. Singling out ONE PERSON’S VIDEO, putting a target on their back, and opening the gates for these 13-15 year old hellspawn brainwashed sturniolo cult fans to go and cyberbully someone for having an opinion (and a respectful one at that.)

Also trying to blame Chris and saying Matt was ‘provoked’ into hitting Nick???? Chris made a simple comment??? And this is NOT the first time Matt has gone overboard in a reaction he’s had to one of his brothers. He’s had many outbursts, all of which ARE concerning. Throwing things aggressively, hitting, punching, cussing your brothers out on camera…it’s fucking humiliating???? I am so sorry to break it to you all but nothing about that interaction was Chris’s fault AT ALL. So for Nick to pin it on his younger brother, i found it absolutely ridiculous.

And, to sum it up, Nick did not ‘clock her’. I’m sorry but his responses when people call him out always remind me of a middle schooler. He refuses to take any accountability. HE edited the video. HE kept the clip in. HE posted the full clip on their instagram. NICK STURNIOLO DID THAT. HE DID NOT HAVE TO DO THAT.

Can’t wait for reacting to hate comments part 2!!! Because, let’s face it! This isn’t hate, it’s the truth. I’m not an enabler and apparently that makes me a hater.

And yes, they over-do the drama for our entertainment, but they’re so much more entertaining when they’re all getting along?! Even if they have an argument, it’s far more entertaining when they aren’t hitting and kicking and punching. I genuinely think their emphasis on the physical aspects of their videos came straight from the tea party video, because it’s just gotten worse and worse since then.

I haven’t watched them in months and decided to watch that video and it was a clear reminder as to why i don’t watch them anymore. This is not a hate post, i will always be grateful for their videos because they’ve gotten me through some of the darkest moments of my life. From abusive relationships, to losing a loved one to suicide, to the loss of a childhood pet, to losing my job, to trying to take my own life…I am beyond grateful for their videos and I always will be. That being said, i think they have some serious maturing and reflecting to do if they want to continue to grow at the speed they were growing at a year or two ago.

Yes i think Matt is a sweet guy. No i don’t think he meant anything serious by hitting nick. The point is that it does make some of us uncomfortable to see that behavior from a grown man because so many of us have experienced abuse. I’m not saying we’re weak or snowflakes for our responses either. Posting your outbursts on the internet for 6-7 million people to see is a choice, and you cannot expect it to come without consequences.

[lonely-north-star]

"I don't wanna miss out on the holiday

But I can't stop staring at your face

I should be playing in the winter snow

But I'ma be under the mistletoe"

thank you to @/kami_kakari for the comm !! My silly lil poly ship is wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! <3

you already know 🫵 rambles

I think Paula kinda hates Christmas, or at least isn't as into it as she should be. All she's known is stress during the holidays, as... I made her a retail worker back in the human world LMAO. So the holiday comes around and she's kinda bitter and jumpy, just waiting for it to be over.

I had a fic idea where Solomon and Mammon found out about this, as she reluctantly admits it, and they decide to try and show her the Christmas spirit again. Solomon has forgotten most of it as well, not one to celebrate it either, and Mammon has barely been introduced to it. So they're also learning along the way.

I think they try to build a gingerbread house together, and drag everyone out to have a snowball fight, with Diavolo's help. Maybe drinking hot chocolate together and watching holiday movies.

But my favorite idea was the two of them trying to catch Paula under the mistletoe and failing every time.

One time she gets dragged off to babysit the Lil D's by Barbatos through a portal, because she's one of the few they'll listen to, so she never passes through the doorway to the common room. Or she manages to go through a doorway they didn't tape mistletoe under.

Or they tape it to the main entrance as her and Asmo are leaving for RAD, but Paula forgets something and goes back upstairs. Either the two of them don't mention the mistletoe, or Mammon aborts mission and abandons Solomon to get attacked by Asmo with cheek kisses.

My favorite is them taping it to her bedroom doorway, because SURELY she'll pass through here. The two of them are waiting outside. Only for Lucifer to come home, angry and yelling about a bill the second he steps foot inside. He starts stomping upstairs, and there's nowhere to go... Except outside. Imagine the two of them bursting into her room, and one of them grabbing her like "No time to explain! We're running!" and they all escape through the window. They took shelter at Purgatory Hall that night...

Anyway, the two of them get tired, and decide to take matters into their own hands on Christmas Eve. They corner her, only for Mammon to grab her, and for Solomon to present the mistletoe. And at first she's surprised, before she can't stop laughing at them going to such lengths. Because I feel like, she eventually caught on, and began avoiding it on purpose just to see what they'd do.

The boys finally get their kiss under the mistletoe <3 Asmo takes a photo of the aftermath, and it becomes a framed photo on her desk. Christmas doesn't seem so bad anymore, she thinks.

[prettysurethatsakidney]

I have recently became obsessed with Gravity falls again specifically bill cipher and Stanford Pines and every time I try to draw I keep going back to them so here are all my unfinished bill fanart😋🫶

Starting from my first then to my most recent

This was my first attempt at a human design for him I took a lot inspiration from other designs I loved I also wanted to give him a rat kinda vibe cause he’s a rat man imo

Drawing 1) This is my LEAST favourite I was kinda in a art block and completely forgot how to draw so it turned out disgusting didn’t even finish colouring it I was already over it he’s giving dutch van der lin vibes tbh feel like he’s gonna make me hand over all my money only to tell me he needs more money also I decided the way the scars on his face sat in this one

Drawing 2) Don’t really like this one ether it’s wonky and the proportion are all off it’s also the first time I drew Stanford I tried doing bill with long hair but I just wasn’t feeling this drawing so I scraped it

This one I really like it’s simple but whatever this is when I was getting more used to drawing him

This one I scraped as well I was trying to design an outfit but failed I do like the cane and the hat tho I’ll try keep those in his design

This this is where it got good omg I like this design a lot I took inspiration on Egyptian/Arab clothing mostly cause I was running out of ideas but then I saw a design of an Egyptian Bill Cipher cause yknow he’s a pyramid and those are Egypt… yeah anyway I added more triangles to the design just cause

I hope you liked my designs and all

[ladykailitha]

The Magic of Christmas Part 1/8

Here it is, guys! My first Christmas steddie story. It was a blast to write even though sometimes it was struggle to get words down being so close to the holidays.

Summary: Steve doesn't play D&D, not really. But he's been a fan of Eddie Munson's artwork for Wizards of the Coast for years. So after he inherits the business from his dad, he decides the best use of all his dad's money is spend it on a five piece painting for the Party of their characters fighting a purple dragon. So he hires Eddie to do the work, but because it's so labor intensive, Steve offers to pay all of Eddie's bills plus any expenses he has for the paintings. How is Eddie to say no to that, so he doesn't try. He also doesn't try not falling in love with Steve. Will Steve reject him or will Eddie get a little magic for Christmas?

Words: 17012 CW: none Rating: Teen for swearing mostly Relationships: Steddie, background Buckingham, Jancy, Eden/Argyle, Dustin/Suzie, Lumax, and a surprise later in the story. Mike and El aren't dating in this, but neither is Mike and Will. They're single.

Also, Steve comes off as mildly autistic in this. He's based on a lot of my own experiences, so I hope this doesn't scare you off.

Essentially this is Eddie falls first, Steve falls harder over the course of six months. June and July aren't strictly mentioned, but you know it's happening during those two months.

***

Eddie walked into the high rise office building feeling a little out of place. All right, maybe a lot of place, if he was being honest with himself.

Here he was in a faded leather jacket and ripped black jeans in an actual fucking glass elevator to the top floor.

The doors opened up to warm outer office. It was dark woods and deep reds and golds. He had been expecting it to look like the rest of the building. He skipped forward to the woman at the desk a little unsure if he was in the right place.

“Hey, um...” he began, tilting his head. “I think I might be in the wrong place. But I’m Eddie Munson and I have a two o’clock appointment with Steve Harrington?”

She blinked up at him in shock. “This is Steve Harrington’s office, let me look at the schedule. I vaguely remember him making sure I didn’t schedule anything for this time.”

Eddie handed her the card that had Steve’s name on the front and the date and time on the back. She took it from him and nodded. He bit his lip nervously as she fiddled with something on her computer.

“All right,” she said, “I do see that he has an hour of time blocked off, but let me call him.”

Eddie nodded.

“Steve,” she said into the receiver. “I have an Eddie Munson here for you.”

“He’s here?” Eddie could hear the excitement in the person’s voice. “Send him in!”

She smiled. “Will do.” She hung up the phone. “Looks you’re good to go.”

Eddie smiled back. “Thanks.” He leaned over the desk for a moment. “I’m guessing you don’t know what this is about anymore than I do.”

She shook his head. “Nope. But he sounds excited to see you so you should really do that.”

He nodded back and skipped over to the door where it swung open as he reached it. He turned back to her. “Neat trick.”

She grinned back.

Eddie walked through the door and found that the inner office was very much the same as the outer one. All warm and cozy. And...well. Friendly.

Behind the desk leaping to his feet to greet him was the most gorgeous human Eddie had ever laid eyes on. He had floppy dark golden hair with hazel eyes behind neat glasses. His smile was easy and infectious.

“Eddie!” the Greek Adonis in a smartly tailored suit said brightly, sticking his hand out to him. “I’m so glad you came. When I spoke to your agent I got the impression you don’t usually do commissions.”

He half shrugged taking the outstretched hand and shaking it. “It’s been a slow year and I don’t taking the odd commission when it intrigues me.”

Steve blushed. “I intrigued the great Eddie Munson, I’m flattered.”

Eddie raised both eyebrows. “I didn’t realize you were a fan of my work.”

Steve nodded eagerly. “Oh hell yeah. I managed to get a picture of that lovely mural you did to cover the gang signs in the neighborhood before the cops destroyed it.”

Eddie blinked. Well fuck. He didn’t realize anyone had known that was him.

“You didn’t tell the cops it was me, did you?”

Steve laughed, clear and bright. He sat down and gestured for Eddie to do the same. “Rule number one. Don’t tell cops shit.”

Eddie sat down with a thud. “That’s good to know.”

Steve grinned wickedly at him and pulled out a picture of the mural from his desk drawer. He handed it to Eddie for him to look at.

“Usually it’s on my desk,” Steve said. “But I didn’t want to come across as too much of a fan boy right away.”

Eddie ran his fingers over the glass. It was of a pack of wolves howling at the moon rising over a tall mountain range.

“It’s nice to see that it’ll be remembered in some small way,” he murmured.

“I’ve got an photographer friend who can make a copy for you if you’d like,” Steve said softly.

Eddie’s head shot up. “You’d do that?”

This time it was Steve that gave a little half shrug. “I mean I can tell it was important to you so...”

He grinned. “Thanks, man. So what’s this commission you’re wanting me to do?”

Steve blushed again. “Do you still do illustrations for Wizard of the Coast?”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. That’s where Steve knew his art from, fucking D&D? This day couldn’t get any weirder.

He cleared his throat. “Like, sometimes. Right now I’m not happy with them for trying to take the game away from little homebrew gamers like me and my friends. But yeah, beggars can’t be choosers.”

Steve nodded. “God, I wish we could go back to the days were stupid rich people would hire poor artists to paint for them for a year or whatever. Free paint, free room and board.”

“Lack of freedom of expression though,” Eddie laughed.

Steve laughed with him. “Not if you’re sleeping with the mistress of the house.”

Eddie laughed harder. “Sorry, I’d be more likely to be sleeping with the master than the mistress.”

Steve smiled with a little shrug. “I’d probably end up doing both if they were hot enough.”

Eddie’s eyebrows went up. All right, noted. “Though I suppose in the scenario you’d be the master, so you’d be sleeping with the artist and the mistress.”

Steve grinned. “Well that’s certainly true.”

Eddie needed to get this meeting to move on before he leapt over the desk to fuck this gorgeous man senseless. “You want to be paint something in my D&D style?”

Steve lit up and Eddie had bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying something stupid like how hot he found that look on Steve’s face.

“Yeah, I have these...” he said, “well they aren’t kids anymore. But they were when I first met them. They’re really big into D&D. In fact Dustin, the one I’m closest to is the one that got me into your art. They were so well done in the books and then found out you had a website and well...” he blushed. “I really liked the fantasy stuff.”

Eddie smirked. He knew exactly what Steve was talking about. There was a section on his website where you had to put in your credit card information to even view it. Did he know that kids stole their parents’ credit cards to view that part of his site? Sure. But at least it made sure most of the time that the viewer was over the age of eighteen.

There was more to fantasy then elves or dragons. Eddie smiled.

“Did you now?”

Steve blushed deeper. “Not that I want you to do that for this!” he said waving his hands. “They maybe adults now, I’m not that insane! But they have these characters that they’ve had since they were twelve and I was hoping you could paint them fighting a dragon. Especially a purple dragon. Because they are so cool.”

Eddie ran his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. “What were you thinking in terms of size?”

Steve pulled out another picture and slid it over to Eddie. Eddie picked it up and looked at it. It was one of those wall paintings that were split into separate pieces but if put together it would form a cohesive picture.

“I was thinking 10x18 for the side pieces and 18x24 for the middle piece which would have the dragon,” Steve explained.

“And each of the side pieces would have a different character?”

Steve nodded. “I was wanting it by Christmas, would that give you enough time to do it?”

Eddie sat back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I’m mean, I guess. A month for each of the smaller ones and two months for the larger piece. It’s doable. If it’s the only thing I work on for the next six months. So I would require at least half the payment up front.”

Steve nodded and pulled out a piece of paper from a leather folio on his desk and handed it over to him.

Eddie started reading and was about half way down when he realized it was a contract. He usually had his own contract to give clients, especially for projects this big. But looking over Steve’s contract, not only was it better worded, it was a lot better offer for Eddie.

“Do you mind if I take this and show my agent before sign?” he asked.

Steve smiled. “No, of course not. Be my guest. In fact, I insist.”

Eddie relaxed. “Thanks!”

Steve ducked his head bashfully. “I really hope you’ll do it. You’re my favorite artist. Dusty’s too.”

Hoo-boy did Eddie know that look. It was the look of someone who was used to being shut down for their interests because they got too excited talking about it.

It was starting to look like regardless of what Chrissy thought about contract, he was going to do it. Because fuck, no one should have to feel like they were too much.

He stood up and shook his hand. “Is the end of the week okay?”

Steve’s head jerked up in shock. “What?”

“For the contract?” Eddie said, holding up the piece of paper.

“Oh!” Steve murmured. “Yeah. That’ll be a fine.”

Eddie got up and shook Steve’s hand. He walked to the door, but paused at the doorway. He turned back and tilted his head down and around. “You don’t have to limit yourself with me, okay? You can be yourself with me.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “What? I don’t know what you mean...”

“The look on your face when you were talking about me being your favorite artist,” Eddie explained. “It’s something I see all the time with my friends and even myself. You close yourself off because you think you’re going to be shut down and told to shut up or at the very least dial it back. And I’m saying you don’t have to. Not with me.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head again. “You just want to me flatter the hell out of you.”

Eddie laughed. “I won’t deny that flattering works on me. But I mean it, okay? Don’t limit yourself. The people that mind don’t matter and those that matter won’t mind.”

Steve smiled. “Dr. Seuss. I’ll try to remember that.”

“See that you do,” Eddie said with a laugh. He tapped his hand on the door frame and then walked away.

He was almost to the elevator when the secretary said, “I heard what you said just now. About him not needing to hold back with you. Thank you.”

Eddie paused in his step. He whirled around and then skipped up to the desk. “You don’t need to thank me for that. He deserves to gush about the things he loves.”

“His parents would shut him up every time he would gush about anything,” she said. “Even sports. Which you would think would be the one thing that a boy should gush about, but nope.”

Eddie nodded. “Bastards.” He cocked his head to the side. “You are more than just his secretary aren’t you?”

She laughed. “Best friend and soulmate, Robin Buckley.” She stuck out her hand.

Eddie shook it with a wide smile. “Please to meet you. I’m guessing you’re president of the Steve Harrington Appreciation Society. Where can one sign up?”

Robin laughed. “Signing that contract will do the job I think.” She jutted her chin up at the paper in his hand.

He shrugged. “I got have my agent look at it before I sign anything. She’d murder me otherwise.”

“Fair.”

“See you around, Birdie,” Eddie said with a salute.

She frowned. “Birdie?”

He made a bird with his hands or at least tried with the contract in his hand. “Robin. Bird. Birdie.”

“Oh god,” she sighed. “You’re one of those.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Yup!” He skipped into elevator and pressed the button to the ground floor. He waved as the elevator lowered him down.

***

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

[zigrethsnotebook]

[INVERTED KISS]

Bill x Reader

words: 864

tags: sfw, Bill developed a crush on you and hates it

a/n: sort of a continuation of [FOOT KISS] but not really important

“Sparky~!” The demon called out the pet name he had chosen for you and your stomach dropped. This couldn’t be anything good. Bill appeared in front of you, his body shrinking to a smaller version of him, smaller than you even. You furrowed your brows in confusion - he’d never done that before.

“All my maniacs are out for the next couple of hours, so we’re all alone… do you know what that means?” You shook your head ‘no’. His tone was more playful than usual, he seemed to be in a good mood. Still, it was hard to agree with him that you were ‘alone’ considering the literal mountain of people behind him he had sculpted into a throne.

“Hmm…,” he pretended to be thinking, tapping his index finger to where a chin might be. “Well, I’ve been browsing through your mind while you were sleeping-” Oh, god. He can do that? Your blood ran cold at the thought. “-and I saw that you were really into this spider-man guy when his movies came out.”

Your eyes widened. If he knew that then he also knew how much you were afraid of spiders - the animal. Internally, you begged that he wouldn’t cover you in spiders or something like that, just to laugh at you. His one eye never left your face, always scanning for every little reaction to his words. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Either way, I decided we should recreate that scene you daydreamed about so often! Wouldn’t that be fun?” Before you could protest or even process his words, he had already snapped his fingers, conjuring two new chains that wrapped around your ankles and lifted you up into the air. A yelp escaped your lips at the sudden movement and you heard Bill chuckle.

Once your body had settled in the air you realized what he was suggesting. “Wait. The kiss?” The demon flew up to your face, locking eyes with you. “Was there a different scene you daydreamed about? Maybe I should take another look…” He floated a little closer and you gasped. “No!” Bill chuckled, floating backwards a couple of inches. “Yeah, I’m just messing with ya, Sparky.”

You sighed in relief, already feeling a little feeble form hanging upside down. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to kiss ya.” “What? Why?” And exactly how was he planning to do that without a mouth? “Because! You humans! Are always going on and on about kissing and being in love and all that nonsense. And I… I want to know what I’m rejecting.”

He… frowned? Bill seemed disheartened somehow. Was he serious? “Why me?” The words left your lips before you could think better of it. He locked eyes with you again. “Because you’re the only human who’s any fun to be around,” he admitted in a quieter tone. A blush formed on your cheeks. Must be because you’ve been hanging upside down for so long, with all your blood running to your head, you decided.

“So I… I mean it’s not like I care what you want or don’t want or whatever,” he argued, clearly trying to come to terms with wanting this himself. “But, like… can I?” His voice was so quiet, you almost didn’t catch it over the sound of your ears buzzing. This time there was no denying why you were blushing. How were you falling for him? He’s a demon!!

“Yes.” You breathed the word but Bill’s eye widened immediately. He floated closer to you again, his eye turning into a mouth in a horrific transformation that would surely come back to haunt you. When it had fully transformed, aside from his eyelashes that were still attached to his lips (which would surely make this even weirder) he began closing the gap between you two.

Bill’s eyelashes-turned-beard(?) lightly grazed your lips causing you to gasp. His little bowtie was touching the tip of your nose. It was so much weirder than you’d thought it would be. But, if only for the sake of not passing out from hanging upside down, you also wanted this to be over as quickly as possible.

His hands were surprisingly soft against your jaw as he guided your face towards his. When your lips met you felt a tingling sensation in them, and you didn’t care to find out whether you were imagining it or he was doing that on purpose.

You sighed into the kiss. Against your better judgment, you were enjoying this. It was a nice change of pace from the chaos that surrounded you every day. Right now, it was only your lips against his, with fine hairs tickling your chin and too much blood in your head to think straight.

When Bill broke the kiss you kept your eyes closed a second longer, so you wouldn’t have to see the transformation again, and totally not because the kiss had left you slightly dizzy.

Without another word he slowly and carefully brought you back on the ground, right side up and all. The chains on your ankles vanished and so did Bill. You didn’t see him again for the rest of the day.

[ideas-live-forever]

Different Dates With Ken!

This is my first time writing in a while, so forgive me if I’m rusty! Been obsessed with the Barbie movie, so here’s some Stereotypical Ken x Reader headcanonssss

please feel free to send ken prompts/asks i am so bored!!

(also, i wrote this in like an hour so there’s probably some typos and ken is probably ooc or something i’m sorry 😭)

You and Ken had been dating for a month now, the two of you in the human world

dinner dates

He doesn’t really have a concept of indoor voices, so he kind of talks at a normal volume.

which would be fine, except you’re in a formal restaurant where everyone is basically whispering.

If you gently point it out, though, he’ll go extra quiet and only talk in a whisper for the rest of the dinner.

He’s just paranoid that he’s embarrassing you or something.

When the bill comes, he definitely tries to pay it (assuming he has money).

If you get to the bill first, he gets really pouty, though he’ll forget he was ever upset if you give him a kiss.

“Y/nnnn, let me pay. It’s the least I can do," Ken begs, pulling out the puppy-dog eyes.

"No," you respond. "You try to pay for everything. Let me treat you once in a while."

It takes a great deal of self-control, but you can't stay away from his eyes long enough to pay for dinner. After you hand the check back to the waiter, you glance back at a now-sulking Ken. He looks almost sad.

With an affectionate eye roll and a smile, you lean across the table and press a small kiss onto his lips. Immediately, he melts into it. And when you pull back, he’s all smiles before he remembers that he’s supposed to be mad at you.

If he gets to it first, he pays, and he smiles at you triumphantly, clearly proud of himself.

After dinner, he insists on walking you home because he doesn’t own a car.

At your door, he thanks you for taking him out and kind of stands there awkwardly.

You have to lean in and initiate the goodbye kiss, but he more than enjoys it.

Study dates/coffee shop dates

Ken didn’t go to college, or school at all, really, so he didn’t quite understand the concept of the date you were currently bringing him to.

However, he sat patiently in the coffee shop while you got your stuff together and opened your laptop, just smiling at you like an idiot.

He takes the time to admire you in your element.

When you ask him what coffee he wants so you can get it for him, he cocks his head in confusion.

"There are, like, different kinds?" he asks innocently, glancing between you and the sigh with different options he had previously failed to notice.

You have to stifle a giggle at his reaction.

"Yeah, there’s a bunch. Come on, I'll recommend you some."

Ken tried a latte.

He didn’t like it.

However, he sipped on it periodically, mirroring your actions as you looked through your work.

He had brought some books on Horses to look over while you were doing your thing, but he couldn’t really focus on reading while you were right there.

He placed some random sticky notes on the pages absentmindedly as he watched you with wonder in his blue eyes.

If you get frustrated at all, He’s quick to ask what’s bothering you and decides that he’s going to help you study. Whether that involved holding your extra papers or helping you with flashcards,

When you wrap up, you notice how little of his latte he has drank.

When you ask about it, he quickly downs the whole thing, plastering a fake smile on top of his look of disgust.

movie dates

This one was Ken's idea.

There's a movie theater in Barbieland, so he knew the basic premise of a movie date.

Although it took a while for him to figure out how to buy the tickets because in Barbieland they were free,

She definitely picked The Little Mermaid.

It seemed like a safe option to him, considering that everything else was either sad-looking or a horror movie, and he can’t really handle either of those.

The plan was to meet at the theater, so he waited outside for you to get there.

When you did, you two went inside and ordered a large popcorn, but Ken let out a little gasp of excitement at the other snacks on sale.

He ends up buying a pretzel, a bag of chips, and a bag of cookies.

All of which he insists on sharing with you.

When you finally go into the theater, he gets a confused look on his face.

He’s never seen movie ads before, so he assumes they're part of the movie.

"I thought this was about a mermaid."

After explaining it to him, he nods vigorously and blushes a bit in embarrassment.

When the movie finally starts, he smiles really big and turns to look at you.

Ken gets HEAVILY invested in the movie.

He definitely cries during Part of Your World, and he’s horrible at hiding it. That results in him clinging to your arm and the people next to him giving him weird looks.

When it’s over, he has a look of faraway wonder in his eyes.

As you two walk out of the theater, he can’t stop gushing about how cute Ariel and Eric were. And how he wanted to watch the original animated movie. And how you two should have matched Little Mermaid Halloween Costumes

Before you leave to go home, Ken gives you a bone-crushing hug and a thank you for spending your afternoon with him.

Which leads you to kiss him.

Which makes him unable to stop blushing as you say your goodbyes for the night.

[elfwreck]

Hello!

I'm not sure if this is a bit odd to ask, but I saw your post about living in rural arkansas as a teen- and the note at the end about gun rights, and how rifles are different than handguns in that legislation and all-

do you have any sources you could link so I can look into that more? I live in rural Kentucky so hunting is very ingrained into just how me and my family and our neighbors live. (also a poor county- I didn't actually know other cities had kids pay for their lunch because I was so used to everyone in my county getting a free lunch- it seems like such a basic thing).

I've never heard anyone mention not banning hunting rifles when they talk about banning guns-

The gun bans being asked for are assault rifles and semi-automatic pistols. Rapid-fire guns intended for military use against multiple human targets - not hunting rifles at all, and not the kinds of pistols that are good for self-defense. (...Not that pistols are good for self-defense in general. Shotguns are good for self-defense. Nobody's trying to ban shotguns.)

The NRA is invested in convincing hunting-rifle owners and pistol owners that the various proposed weapons bans are aimed at them, and not at the tiny number of people who want the ability to shoot up a whole bar or classroom in under a minute.

The NRA has also fought hard against any kind of gun safety requirements.

Bill from last year to ban/restrict assault rifles:

https://www.congress.gov/bill/118th-congress/senate-bill/25/text

The gun safety bill Biden recently signed:

Doesn't ban any weapons. Puts restrictions on who can get weapons - people convicted of most types of domestic partner violence will not be allowed to buy guns. It makes it harder for people under 21 to buy guns. It closes some loopholes about selling guns, so sellers will need to be registered and licensed. Sets up new funding for gun crisis intervention.

Doesn't do anything to restrict hunting, other than possibly adding to the bureaucracy for people under 21 getting new guns.

Most people in urban areas are oblivious to hunting as a Real Thing that People Actually Do For Good Reasons, rather than a kind of cruel sporting event. They are vaguely aware that hunting rifles are not assault rifles, are not semi-automatics, but only as an abstract concept. Might or might not be able to tell a hunting rifle apart from a semi-automatic if they saw them. (I am not sure I could; I am very much not a gun person.) (I have shot one gun, once in my life. It was loud and hurt my hand and I had no interest in doing it again.)

I don't know how much I think we need to ban or restrict certain weapons. I am absolutely certain we need to keep certain weapons out of the hands of certain people, because the current system of "I guess 10-year-olds should all get training on what to do if some teacher's ex-boyfriend decides to shoot up the school" is ridiculous.

Given how hard it is to identify the "certain people" who should damn well NOT have access to automatic weapons, I'm okay with "it gets harder for anyone to get them," because I don't see how heavy assault rifles are a "but I neeeeed it this weekend!" kind of thing. (Not sure I see that hunting rifles are a "need it now" kind of thing, either; seems like those are a hefty enough purchase that the buyer should be doing some planning in advance. So filing for it like you would for car registration - another expensive piece of tech that kills people if you use it wrong - shouldn't be too big a burden.)

The idiots who include hunting rifles in their talk about banning guns - I won't say there aren't any; all sorts of politics gets plenty of idiots - have no idea how those guns actually get used. And the people writing actual policies and trying to get the laws changed are not those idiots.

The "ban guns" movement has two main parts:

Remove general access to guns that can kill a dozen people in under a minute, and

Remove gun access from specific people who have a history of getting angry and violent, especially those who have a history of shooting other people when they're angry and violent.

Side note: Some of us want that second point to include cops. That faction is getting nowhere.

None of it is trying to remove access to hunting rifles or reduce the amount of hunting in places that need it. (Basically, all of the South; I am near San Francisco and nobody anywhere near me "needs" to hunt; I don't care what they do with hunting rights in the greater SF Bay Area).

The focus is on preventing gun violence, not preventing gun use. And that means restricting access to guns that have no purpose other than anti-human violence, and restricting access to all guns from people who are likely to use them as weapons instead of tools.

[sagesskies]

just played Binary Star Hero, loved it, amazing, chefs kiss, Hals can take my heart and soul. Love them sooo much.

And an idea just struck me: Awkward Yandere Hero who is also your ex, meanwhile you're the guy who manages his tech.

The guys running the agency wanted him to be presented as the perfect, ideal man, and in this heteronormative world, the ideal man was straight, so they had him start dating another superhero. You got that, you could handle that, but what pissed you off was that he couldn't at least fight for your relationship when the higher-ups wanted him breaking up with you.

so you take the initiative, and don't let him keep beating around the bush, and break things off first. Good riddance honestly, what need do you have of a man who wasn't even willing to fight for you?

You keep working for the same agency, managing their tech, fixing it up after any errors, making sure everything runs in tip, top shape. But you refuse to do anything for him, no. They can get somebody else to do that.

everytime you two speak, it's always tense. him, the 'strong' 'virile' and 'masculine' hero practically cowering before you, the glorified tech support.

"Uh, h-hey [Name]!"

"... Helios."

"How... how are you?"

"I'm fine. What do you want?"

"Uh. To talk?"

"... Leave."

"I just want to chat-"

"Now."

"Okay. Goodbye. Take care. Love you- I mean, uhhhh, t-take care- Wait shit I already said that- Uh. Uh. Bye!"

Your colleagues tell you to pity him more, he had no choice you know? The agency paid his bills, they gave him a job, they were the reason why he wasn't taken to the government testing labs and made a labrat like all the other non-hero superpowered humans. So he was in no position to say no to their demands.

So were you supposed to pity him? To constantly let him do whatever he wanted? Let him miss all the dates, the dinners, to focus more on work than your relationship? Were you supposed to pity him when he didn't bother to explain himself when pictures were released of him going into a hotel room with some model? To let it slide without a single explanation?

You have too much respect for yourself.

When you try to hit the dating scene again, to be able to fully solidify that you are truly moving on from your ex... but for some reason, said ex always ruins everything?!

every single place you take your dates, it's suddenly infested with your ex's fanclub as hundreds of people all clamor around, disrupting others as they all try to at least look at the famed hero Helios who was reported to have been sighted, just your luck, in your general area!

and not to mention, what happens when he decides to approach you in public, while your on a date, and the other guy just so happens to be a big fan of his and all of a sudden you're just tossed aside as your date gets his fucking forehead signed by your ex.

and still, still, he has the audacity to try to strike up a conversation with you.

"Hey, [Name]!" Helios- No, Hollis, greets you cheerfully.

You don't bother to respond, focusing on fixing the dents in Liquid Steel's metal suit. Slamming the hammer down on the outward dents, grunting when you accidentally move the dent inward and use the dolly to fix it.

Hollis, hesitantly, comes closer to you. Despite the fact that you were holding a hammer, he wasn't afraid. You know that he's sturdy and durable, more than other supers, but he is still flesh and bone. If you caught him off guard...

"So, uh, since the other mechanics are a bit busy... I was wondering, could you-"

"I won't, Helios," You glare at him, "Just wait for one of them to come back or something."

Hollis chuckles awkwardly, "Ah, well, I'll actually be needing it fixed soon," His eyes wander around your workspace, before going back to focus on you, eyes a brilliant gold, "I'm... gonna be sent on a mission."

You recall when he'd miss your anniversary dinner, and told you he had to be called out for an emergency extraction. He was fidgeting the entire time, hand rubbing at his neck where you saw lipstick stains that he was doing a shit job at hiding.

Looking at him now, you can tell he's lying the same way he was back then. But for different reasons now.

"No." You say with finality.

"But-"

You drop your hammer, and grab him by the collar of his shirt. Pulling him closer till your foreheads were pressed against each other. His eyes widen, and he gulps.

"I said no," You snarled, spit flying against his face, "Why can't you fucking get that into your thick skull, hm?"

Your hands grasp tighter onto the fabric of his shirt, nearly tearing it off, "You've been a right fucking creep, yknow?" You give him a cruel, crooked grin, "I know what you're doing- You've been fucking stalking me, haven't you?"

"[Name], I-"

Maybe it's the stress from work, the breakup, the failed dates, Hollis himself, his mere presence being enough to tip you over the edge. Whatever it is, you snap.

"Shut up!" You scream at Hollis, "I hate you- I hate you so, so, so much!"

More than you hated Hollis, you hated the situation. It's more than just sabotaging your love life, and always bothering you with his awkward small talk, you wished he started trying before you ended it. You wished it didn't take you leaving for him to beg for you to come back.

You feel like the gear that you're in charge of fixing. Some heroes take care of theirs like it's their baby, always careful, but never getting enough work done because of it. Some are able to tolerate it getting damaged, and do their duty. But some? Some are willing to let it suffer intense damage, nearly become irreparable, all for the sake of their job.

Hollis is like that, you think. He let your relationship decay, rot, and fester, till it became nothing more than a shell of what it used to be. But you were too tired to fix it. Why bother anyway? You were old news, software that needed to be updated. So like any person with common sense, Hollis got an update.

Your face grows warm, you think it is from the shame for your outburst, before you realize it is also wet, and that you are actually crying. You don't want to, but you slump against his chest, and bury your face into the warmth of his shirt.

You beat weakly at his chests, "I hate you... I hate you Hollis." You sob.

Hollis shifts, you think he's about to pry you off, but then you sense a familiar presence over your back, and then a hesitant, but comforting hand is rubbing soothing circles into your back.

"It's... It's okay [Name]," His voice is shaky, and you think he's crying too, "No matter how much you hate me, I'll always love you."

[ckret2]

Chapter 27 of human Bill Cipher trying to trick his captors into liking him, featuring a mall shopping trip that turns into this:

Also, Bill faces the most difficult ethical dilemma of his life: should he act like a big jerk to a 13-year-old.

####

As they left the cheap jewelry kiosk, Bill tapped his new dress shoe against Stan's ankle to catch his attention. "Hey. Your cut." He flipped a ring in the air.

Stan caught it and inspected the symbol on its surface. "Is that the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel?"

"You gave your protégé your fez, I thought you might want a replacement! I know how proud you are of your lodge membership, Fisherman."

Stan admiringly studied the ring and its open-mouthed crescent fish; then the corners of his mouth turned down. "Ahhh, it wasn't my membership." He stuffed the ring in his pocket.

"No? I got one with the Fishmasons symbol if you'd like that better." Bill spun the oversized ring on one finger. It slipped off and he fumbled trying to catch it.

In the smoothest move he'd pulled all summer, Dipper caught the ring before it hit the floor. He ignored Bill's outstretched hand and inspected the complicated tool-lined diamond symbol. "Fishmasons? I thought they were called..."

"Yeah, you would," Bill scoffed. "Do you believe everything you read in The Paranoia Code? You know novels are usually fictional, right?"

"But don't masons work with stone? How does a 'fish mason' make sense?"

"If everyone knew what it meant, it wouldn't be a secret society, would it?"

Dipper gave up on prying anything more than snark out of Bill and turned toward Stan. "The Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel is associated with the Fishmasons, right?"

"Yeah," Stan said, "they're uh, sister organizations or something, I think. It's complicated."

"It's a spin-off organization," Bill said. "All Mackerels are Fishers. Once you've reached the top rank in the Fishers, you're eligible to join the Holy Mackerel."

"Yeah. What he said."

Dipper nodded. "Sooo... is it true that the Fishmasons are secretly... working with the government, or...? I mean, yeah, I read it in a book. But they've had a lot of real historical figures."

Stan snorted dismissively. "If they are, they didn't invite me to those meetings."

"Well sure. The lodge that decides politics is in D.C.," Bill lied. Dipper's head whipped around to stare at him. Ha. When they got home, Bill would have to spend some time deciding which would be the stupidest conspiracy theory rabbit holes to send Dipper down. If he played his cards right, by Thanksgiving he could have the kid spouting rubbish that would alienate half his extended family.

"Would you stop staring at me like that?" He shoved the side of Dipper's face; and, while he was distracted, grabbed back the Fisher ring to inspect its symbol. Kryptos's face. Far better drawn than Bill could do. And the thin little layer of gold atop the ring should be enough to enhance Bill's psychic signal. Maybe that would be enough to get a call through to the Nightmare Realm.

He tucked the ring in his shoe and turned to Stan. "Anyway, if you think that was good, you should see what I can do in a real jewelry store. What do you say?"

"I dunno. Jewelry shops are tricky, they're always on the lookout for shoplifters."

"They never catch teams and we've got two rambunctious kids to split their attention. I'll do the distracting, you do the lifting. When's the last time you had a gold watch that isn't cursed?"

"Nope!" Mabel, who'd been trailing behind the group with her arms crossed, finally shoved her way between Stan and Bill. "That's enough! We came here for a good time, not a crime time!"

"We came here to go shopping," Stan protested. "We're shopping!"

"Yeah, we're just getting the best discount possible."

"It's like advanced couponing."

Bill laughed. "Hey, I like that."

"No!" Mabel stood in front of them, arms and feet spread wide like a barrier. "Grunkle Stan, you should know better. You're letting—" she dropped her voice to an emphatic whisper, "Bill talk you into doing bad stuff. The whole reason you came along was to make sure he can't do that!"

Stan snapped, "Oh, like you didn't just make us stand around for an hour while you played dress up with him! Why's it okay when you play with the demon, but nobody else can make him useful?"

Mabel winced. "No, that's not... I mean..."

If this conversation went the wrong way, Stan and Mabel might both talk each other out of doing anything interesting with Bill. He'd better defuse this situation quick. "Hey, c'mon, Stanley, that's your niece. Don't be so hard on her."

There was a flicker of irritation on Stan's face directed at Bill, followed by a flicker of guilt toward Mabel, followed by him grunting and refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

That was one threat neutralized. Bill turned his grin on Mabel. "Sorry for monopolizing the trip, kid. We'll make it up to you! Fordsy got you that cute crystal bracelet, didn't he—wanna graduate to some real gemstones?"

"Hey, yeah," Stan said, immediately perking up. "You like jewelry! I can get you something with hearts or kittens. Way better than a bunch of boring rocks." Bill mentally patted himself on the back. Oh, he was so good at this. Good old sibling rivalry. Families were so easy to manipulate.

Mabel slapped her hand over the rainbow crystal bracelet mixed amidst her other bracelets. "I don't want you to get me real jewelry!" she shouted; but Stan had already set out on his new mission, with Bill trotting along just behind him. "Not if you have to steal it!"

"Relax!" Bill waved without turning around. "We're a couple of pros, you've got nothing to worry about." He elbowed Stan before he could absorb Mabel's protests. "Don't worry, once she's older she'll appreciate what a financial investment fine jewelry is. Never too early to buy a little gold. Or—well—acquire gold."

"Yeah," Stan said, "who knows when the next apocalypse is gonna be."

"Could be any day now," Bill lied.

"The only bracelet I want is this one!" Mabel waved her arm in the air, pointing at the shooting star friendship bracelet Bill had made. But Stan and Bill were too far away to care about her protests now.

Mabel's shoulders slumped. She glowered at the friendship bracelet. It didn't seem as friendly as it did when Bill gave it to her. "This whole trip was a mistake, wasn't it."

Dipper grimaced. "I didn't say it."

"You don't have to." Mabel sighed heavily. "I don't know what got into me. B—Goldie's been so nice lately, I thought he was making progress! But he's been nothing but a creep today. Guess the niceness was all an act."

"He can act nice for a long time. It took Grunkle Ford almost three years to figure out how evil he is." When Dipper concluded that this hadn't had the comforting effect he'd intended, he asked, "Do you wanna tip off security about the jewelry heist?"

Mabel sighed again. "No, I don't want Grunkle Stan to get in trouble. And if Goldie's arrested he might spill the beans to mall security. Let's just wait outside by the car."

"Yeah, all right," Dipper said. "If they don't come out in twenty minutes, we'll call Ford."

Headed the other way across the mall, Bill said, "So, a watch for you, a necklace or something for the kid, and for me... they probably don't have crowns here, so—"

"Whoa, hey, I don't remember offering to get you anything," Stan said. "I already got you fancy shoes and a bunch of clothes. We're square."

"We're no such thing. Besides, why should I help you if I'm not getting anything?" Bill asked. "Maybe earrings? Gimme a nail when we get home and I can pierce my own ears—"

His arm was wrenched backwards and he fell on his back.

Thirty feet away, Mabel yelped as she was yanked back and landed on her butt.

Bill and Mabel turned around and stared at each other.

Bill said, "Right! Forgot about that. Just—get over here."

"No!" Mabel shouted. "You get over here!"

Bill scowled. "Come on, kid. Your great-uncle and I are trying to do something here. If you don't want to come along, at least let Stanley have the other half of the bracelet—"

"I said NO!" Mabel planted her feet wide apart and tugged her wrist back as far as it could go. "You used me! You were only nice so you could go outside and I fell for it! As soon as you got what you wanted, you started acting like a huge poop face again!"

"Wow, language—"

"I'm not helping you anymore!"

Bill could feel his face heating up. "Kid, don't be ridiculous! You can't stand there forever! You're being..." selfish, irrational, petty—what word would get him what he wanted?

The pedestrian chatter over the inoffensive mall music had fallen silent. The feeling of being watched crawled over his back. (He seemed to discover another unpleasant new human bodily sensation every day.) Oh. Witnesses. There was no way the stranger in a shouting match with a little girl was coming out of this looking cool.

He could still save face if he got her uncle to do Bill's arguing for him. He turned hopefully to his new shoplifting buddy. "C'mon, she's—she's being unreasonable, right? We're talking about one watch, here."

And Bill had lost him. Stan's expression hardened. He crossed his arms and Bill flinched at the movement. "If a stupid watch is gonna upset Mabel that much..."

Families were so difficult to manipulate! Why did they have to gang up on him, it wasn't fair. He shot a furious glower at Mabel.

And then laughed, loudly enough for the rubberneckers to hear. "Okay, okay! You win. Sheesh, you look so serious. Peace talks in front of the Kidz Zone?"

Sternly, Mabel said, "Okay, but you do not get to ride the little coin-operated train."

"I wasn't gonna ask!" Bill paused. "Or the—?"

"Or the helicopter!"

Dipper called, "You haven't earned it, man."

"Fine," Bill snapped, "I didn't want to ride it." Swallow your disappointment, Cipher. Just play it cool.

When they'd rendezvoused, Bill said, "Okay, I might have gone a little overboard. Big deal. But we've been here all afternoon, we haven't eaten, I'm sure that's why everyone's so testy. Let's just swing by the food court and then get out of here."

Mabel frowned. "You're just trying to get us to stay."

"Yes. I am. So that we can eat before we go." If he ended this on a win, even a small win, that would be what everyone took away and he could call this trip progress. "Funny thing about human bodies is they need to be fed a couple times a day. Maybe you've noticed."

Dipper frowned. "Dude, you're only eating twice a day?"

"I don't question your diet, get off my back. What do you think, Stanley, feed the kids before we go?" Bill might've lost Mabel, but he had a shot at securing Stan. He could work on Mabel again once they were home. "You wanna drive home a couple of cranky teens, or a couple of cranky and hungry teens?"

Dipper snapped, "We're only cranky because of—!"

"Nah, he's right," Stan said wearily. "I'm starving. We'll grab something quick to eat."

Bill immediately perked up; but Mabel's frown deepened.

####

"I want chicken strips," Dipper said. 

Mabel said, "I'm getting pizza."

Bill said, "I want—"

"I don't care what you want," Stan said. "I'm getting a burger and you're getting the fries."

"Oh, so you want to find out what I'm like when I'm the cranky and hungry one?"

Stan grunted. "Fine. Your budget's five dollars. I really do only have a twenty."

"Fine." Bill drifted over to Mabel, who'd gotten in line in front of the food court's pizza booth. "Hey, Shooting Star—"

"Leave me alone, jerk."

"Whoa, am I not allowed to get a slice of pizza?"

Mabel didn't respond. She was glaring through the glass display window at the available pizza flavors as she waited for her turn to order. Apparently Bill interpreted that as permission to stay and look over the flavors himself. 

Standing so close to Bill Cipher when Mabel didn't want him there was like having a monster breathing down her neck. She hadn't realized how hover-y he could get until it stopped being fun. She remembered something like this from Ford's lesson on cults and con artists, how they try to get into your head by talking and talking and not giving you any time and space to breathe.

She could feel Bill's heavy gaze on the side of her face. Dipper and Stan were at the next restaurant over, but Bill stood between her and them. The chain bracelet on her wrist felt like a handcuff. She wanted to rip it off and be free of him. She wanted to go home.

"I've never had American pizza before," Bill said. "What do you think, cheese or Hawaiian?"

Mabel screwed up her face. "Ew, the one with pineapple?"

Bill's grin twitched wider. "Is that a vote for cheese, then?"

Gross, he was trying to get her to talk again. She glared at the pizza more determinedly. "Get what you want, I don't care."

Bill sighed. "Fine. You're no fun." He looked over the pizzas—standing too close—for one brief moment of heavy silence; and then, pointing between the cheese and Hawaiian, murmured to himself, "Eenie, meenie, miney..."

Mabel's whole body went stiff.

####

She felt the oppressive oven-like heat of Bill's dark floating pyramid, a too-euclidean temple built without the comfort of humans in mind, so hot that touching the walls burned your skin; and she felt a sticky sweat running down her back. She felt the constant electrical static of Bill's glowing shadowy grip around her waist. Every time she shifted and struggled, her sweater crackled and stung her. Bill's hand felt like nothing, absolutely nothing, and it was crushing and inescapable.

She could hear his voice, that forced jollity pushing to the verge of exhausted hysteria, saying, "I think I'm gonna kill one of them now just for the heck of it!"

She could see his eye like a blood red spotlight, eye like an incinerating laser, the light swallowing her and Dipper; she heard her heartbeat pounding in her ears; she saw the symbol that represented her flashing in Bill's eye, and even before he stopped she knew it would be her. 

"EENIE... MEENIE... MINEY..."

She saw his hand tremble with rage as he prepared to snap her out of existence.

"YOU!"

####

"Hey, you." Bill put a hand on Mabel's shoulder. "What are you getting? Maybe we can split two slic—"

There was a wild look in Mabel's eyes.

The moment she seized his upper arm, he knew he was ending up on the floor and it was going to hurt.

She spun her back to him, jerked him against her, and flipped him over her shoulders. It was bizarrely relaxing, that second spent floating upside-down in the air. Familiar, comforting.

And then he slammed back first on the tile floor. And it hurt.

He stared wheezing at the faraway lights until his internal organs remembered how to lung. The world was too bright; he'd lost his sunglasses. He sat up and gingerly felt the back of his head. It had cracked open, he was leaking internal organs—no. That was his hair. His head was fine.

Dizzily, he asked, "What was that for?" He shook his head to clear it. "Hey. Hey! What the heck was that for!" He grabbed the counter and got to his feet, and almost slipped back down on his first attempt. "I've been a little obnoxious but what'd I do to deserve a surprise attack out of nowhere? What, were you just waiting for a chance to get the jump on me—"

And then he saw the look on Mabel's face—the absolute unadulterated terror—in the split second before she gave a little flinch of realization and the guilt kicked in.

Baffled, he looked past her and the confused nearby mall-goers to Stan and Dipper—who thankfully didn't look angry, but they also didn't look as confused as Bill felt. They had tight-lipped white-faced looks like they understood what they'd just seen perfectly.

"What," Bill said. "What'd I do? Was it something I said?" He racked his brain. He did something that scared the dickens out of them—because all of them were giving him that look—it was three against one, something must have happened that he didn't pick up on. Something that made humans nervous that wasn't important enough for someone like him to recall?

He didn't know what.

That was it. He lost. All his work was undone, they were afraid of him again, they saw him as a threat and they'd lock him back up in the shack. There went any chance of ever seeing the outside world before his execution. There went his hopes of befriending the more pliable humans, or winning Ford back over. There went his conversations with Mabel. And he didn't even know what he did wrong.

If he killed Mabel and cut the bracelet cord, was he fast enough to escape before Stan and Dipper could react? If he lunged over the counter, could he get the pizza cutter and slit Mabel's throat before she flipped him again?

He saw a flickering glimpse of his uncoordinated scramble in the futures where he tried; the scene quickly fizzled out as he concluded it wouldn't work.

"Sorry," Mabel said. "Instinct. You know how martial arts are! You get it trained into your muscle memory, and... and... I... didn't mean to do that, that was my bad."

No less confused, Bill said, "Yeah, no, sure, it's—it's fine." He couldn't afford for it not to be "fine"; he didn't know what the other options were. "I know I cut an intimidating figure." He laughed weakly.

He couldn't apologize even if he wanted to. He didn't know what he was supposed to be apologizing for. He was still watching Mabel's face and Dipper's and Stan's for any context clues to explain what just happened.

And Mabel said, voice small and shaking, "You... don't wanna hurt us again, right?"

Bill blinked slowly at her.

It was the stupidest question he'd ever heard.

She had to know that. Everyone watching had to know that. Bill had been plotting how to hurt them again not fifteen seconds ago. He had every reason to want to hurt them—his very survival depended on finding a way to hurt them—and anyway, regardless of his intentions, obviously if he was asked he'd say "no," wouldn't he! As if he could admit to his captors that he did want to hurt them! It was such a breathtakingly stupid question that he could laugh.

He didn't laugh. He didn't point out how dumb she was for asking, or what a waste of time the question was, or remind her that they both knew there was only one answer. He didn't want to show off how effortlessly he could talk circles around humans; he didn't care about making her feel stupid.

He only wanted Mabel to stop looking at him like he terrified her.

So he said, "No. Of course I don't want to hurt you." He nodded toward Stan and Dipper, "No promises about these guys, they've been making fun of our fashion sense all afternoon, but... not you." He held up one hand, showing Mabel the friendship bracelet she'd given him with the evil eye beads. "You gave me a new job, remember?"

He'd hoped the jokey half-threat might help lighten the mood, maybe get her to smile; but she just nodded. "Okay."

Okay.

Stan shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Welp. I lost my appetite. We're going home."

####

Bill didn't care about Stan and Dipper glaring at his back as they trudged toward the exit, but Mabel walking so quietly beside him was sandpapering at his nerves. If he were back home and she were one of his usual pack of friends, he could just order her to perk up or else get out of his sight until she did—but that wouldn't work here, where he was currently not all powerful, he didn't have supreme control over everybody in the vicinity, and they did have to share a ride home. If he tried to get all imperious on her, she'd never speak to him again and Stan would probably break his skull.

What could he do to make her less nervous?

"Hey." He held out his hand to her. She gave it a quizzical look, then looked up at Bill. He said, "Can't hurt you if I can't use my hand, right? Unless you expect me to start biting."

Mabel said, "This isn't, like... a deal, is it—?"

"No! What? There's no deal, where would there be a deal?" Irritably, Bill said, "I'm just trying to help, if you don't think it's helpful then fine, whatever—"

Mabel took his hand. He shut up.

She flinched in surprise and pulled her hand back, holding the ring with the Fishmasons symbol. "I don't w..."

"I know you don't. Listen—we're all going to jail if we go back to 18th Century to return anything, but... I mean, we pass the ring kiosk on the way out, so..." Was that enough? Would that do anything?

She pushed it back into his hand. "You return it."

Irritation flared up his throat; he swallowed it down. "No problem." She was probably worried he was trying to set her up.

As they walked past the kiosk, he steered around to the side opposite the teen manning it; ran one hand over the rows of rings like he was idly inspecting the designs as he passed; and with a subtle movement, slid the stolen ring back amongst the others without pausing. He showed Mabel his empty hand to prove he'd done the deed.

As they moved passed the kiosk, she took his hand again. He squeezed hers back.

He'd find another way to get a message out to Kryptos. That dumb cheap ring probably wouldn't have worked anyway.

Dipper muttered, "You're still a threat if you have one hand free." He took Bill's other hand. They simultaneously shuddered. Never mind the being-watched feeling Bill had earlier, this was what the phrase "skin crawling" truly meant.

But Mabel immediately perked up. "Thanks, Dipper."

Oh! Sure! Thank him. Bill shot Dipper a dirty look and tightened his grip. (It wasn't even tight enough to hurt.) "I forgot how sweaty your palms are."

"Shut up."

Behind them, Stan grumbled, "I'm just glad you only have two hands."

"Hey!" Bill twisted around to give Stan an exasperated look. "Do you have any idea how much I envy you right now? This is torture. I can feel every fingerprint on these two. How come you're the only one who doesn't have to suffer."

Mabel laughed weakly. "Because Grunkle Stan never tried to end the world."

"Neither did I." He sighed exaggeratedly. "But fine—I'll take my punishment like an adult."

He'd gotten a laugh out of Mabel. That was good enough for now.

####

As soon as the car pulled around to the house side of the shack, before they'd even come to a stop, Bill unfastened his seat belt, shouldered open the door, and tumbled out into the sunlight and dirt. A couple of stolen shirts fluttered free.

"Hey!" Stan rolled down his window. "Get back—! How'd you get that door open?!"

"I never closed it!" Bill was already doing cartwheels across the grass, turned like a sunflower to catch the early evening sunbeams filtering through the trees. "I just pulled it close to the car."

"It was ajar the whole drive?!"

"A jar of what?" Bill's cartwheels were already better than the ones he'd tried earlier that day.

Mabel winced. "Sorry, Grunkle Stan, I should have checked..."

"It's not her fault!" Like heck was Bill letting Mabel get in trouble over one little door. "I'm an out-of-control agent of chaos! I'd ride home sitting on the roof if this body had the friction to stay put."

Stan snapped, "Next time, that's where I'm putting you!"

While Stan parked properly and everyone else got out, Bill got tired of cavorting and trudged up to the shack. He kicked his shiny new shoe against the wall as he waited for the Pines to let him inside.

"Glad that's over," Stan sighed. "I'm never going shopping with you again."

Yeah, sure he wasn't. Bill could work on him. Stan would want a new watch eventually.

"And I'm still starving," Stan said.

"Pizza," Bill said. Dipper and Mabel perked up like a couple of dogs that had just heard their owner say walk.

"Ehh..."

"Hawaiian," Bill added.

Stan looked considering. "I do appreciate pineapple's laid-back, tropical attitude." Dipper and Mabel groaned in disappointment.

Bill proposed, "Two pizzas."

The Pines and Bill went inside, and the door swung shut behind them.

None of the humans noticed the minuscule break Bill had kicked in the shack's unicorn hair barrier.

####

(Thanks for reading, y'all! I've been really looking forward to posting this chapter, so if you've got any comments or thoughts, I'd love to hear them!)

[libraryofgage]

PJO Steddie Part Three

Part One | Part Two

I hope y'all are ready for some backstory in this bitch hfdjsk

Anyway, we learn some more godly parents, but one remains a mystery for now.

Also, if you like my writing, maybe consider commissioning me! I have, like, student loans hitting harder than I'd like, so I've opened commissions on ko-fi. You can read more about prices and such in this post.

Anyway, hope you have fun reading! And, as always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

---

Getting to Athens, Tennessee, had required a mix of bus rides, a single divine taxi ride, and a pair of knock-off winged shoes that Eddie should probably put out of their misery before they get him killed. Getting back to camp, thankfully, only requires the van Steve and the kids use to get around.

Said van, at first glance, looks like a hunk of junk. It seems to have stepped right out of the 80s, its paint is faded and scratched with dents in more than a few spots, and the wheels look about two tiny potholes from popping. As they get closer, Steve pulls a key ring from his pocket, and Eddie notices that it's a physical key and not one of the wireless fobs.

When they get inside, though, the whole van is transformed. The seats are made of the softest leather Eddie has ever felt, there are seven in the back for all the kids to be comfortable without arguing about space, and the sheer number of cup holders is enough to bring Eddie near tears. "This is fucking metal," Eddie says, practically melting into the passenger seat as the kids buckle up in the back and Steve starts the van.

"I got it after we outgrew my BMW," Steve says, shrugging as he checks on the kids and Eddie before pulling out of the parking lot.

"Steve says it's a surprise gift from our father," El pipes up from the back.

"Yeah," Dustin says, his voice excited as he leans forward and pokes his head between Steve and Eddie, "Cuz he doesn't know he bought it!"

Steve snorts and pushes down the bill of Dustin's cap as he heads towards the highway.

"So, is Zeus your dad, too?" Eddie asks, twisting around to look at El.

"No. Steve and I share a human father," El explains.

Even without looking, Steve can feel Eddie's confusion. "I try not to think about how I came into being," he says. "Just know our father seems to be a bit of a slut for Greek mythological figures."

"Wait," Eddie says, waving his hand, "does that mean Zeus was, like, a woman? Is Zeus your mother?"

"No clue. Like I said, I prefer not to think about it," Steve says again, shooting Eddie a look.

And Eddie drops it despite his growing questions. When a gorgeous boy tells you to stop asking about the impossibility of his birth, you shut up and listen.

A while later, as Steve is about to drive over the Tennessee state line and the kids doze off in the back, Eddie glances at Steve and shifts in his seat. His leg starts to bounce, his fingers drumming against his knee, as he tries to figure out which question to ask first. Eventually, he ends up blurting out, "So how did you manage to not die?"

Steve blinks and snorts, stifling the rest of his laughter so he doesn't wake the kids. He glances at Eddie, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "Well, how much of the story do you want to hear?" he asks.

"All of it." Eddie wants to know everything about Steve. How has he kept all these kids alive and for how long? When did they start traveling the country like this? When did he learn about his heritage? What does he like? What does he hate? Does he believe in fated love and love at first sight?

Okay, that last one can probably wait a little longer. Like, two more days, at least.

Steve hums softly, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel as though he's trying to decide where to start. "I didn't know about Zeus until I was eleven," he finally says. "I only learned then because my dad couldn't figure out any other explanation for how lightning struck on clear days whenever I was angry at other kids."

"Didn't you have to deal with monsters?" Eddie asks.

"Yes. And no." Steve frowns, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know how in all those stories Zeus will change his form to get with all those women? Like, he'll become whatever he needs to get what he wants."

"I'm familiar, yeah."

"It's a little like that, but I don't change my form. I guess I change my vibe? I can make monsters think I'm the son of a lesser deity. It got even easier when El came along because monsters don't target her."

"Why not?" Eddie asks, perking up some. If El has somehow figured out how to make herself invisible to monsters, maybe other campers can learn, too.

Steve grimaces, and Eddie immediately pushes back the urge to push for more information when he says, "It's...complicated. Let's not get into it right now."

"Okay," Eddie says, flashing Steve what he hopes is a reassuring smile when Steve glances at him. "When did you meet El, then?"

"Five years ago now, when I was fifteen. El's mother showed up, dropped her off with me, threatened me with death if she ever got hurt, and then left. El was, like, just eleven at the time, and our dad was no help. He just shrugged it off and gave me a bigger allowance to care for her."

"Was he not around?"

"No. He...travels. We haven't spoken to him in four years. He hasn't tried speaking to us, either. Despite me literally being Zeus's kid, he can't exactly show me off or anything. And El...well, he can't take her to any functions, either."

Eddie nods, pushing down the urge to ask why. But Steve said he doesn't want to talk about it, so Eddie instead asks, "And what about the rest?"

Steve hums, merging into another lane. "Well, El and I stayed in place for about a year. Then we saw some weird snake monster dragging Will around like a road snack. We saved him, but I almost died. It was my first fight, you know? But I lived, obviously, and El and I agreed to take Will back to his hometown. School was one break anyway, so we just did a road trip in my BMW. We ran into Dustin and Mike along the way. Dustin had made these, like, mechanical wings, and Mike was goading him on to give them a try. We got to the cliff right as Dustin jumped off."

"Wait," Eddie says, holding his hand up to pause Steve's story. "Are you telling me the kid just...decided to recreate Icarus?" he asks.

"Yeah, pretty much. He thought he could actually succeed since he's so much smarter," Steve explains, getting an amused grin as he thinks of it. "Anyway, didn't work, obviously. Dustin fell but managed to catch himself on the cliffside, Mike was yelling his head off but not actually doing anything, and El just took off running toward them. Which meant I had to run toward them, too. So, Will is trying to calm Mike down, El is practically dangling herself over the cliff, and Dustin is lamenting the loss of his wings."

"How'd you rescue him?"

"I just climbed down myself," Steve says, shrugging like it's no big deal. "I had him get on my back and climbed up, chewed both kids out for doing something so dangerous, and then asked if they needed a ride home, which is how I found out they'd run away and were just wandering."

"Half-bloods running away is pretty common," Eddie says, sinking down in his seat as he watches the trees rush by in the darkness. "A lot of us don't feel understood by our human families, or we don't want to endanger them when monsters track us down."

Steve nods, gripping the steering wheel a little harder. "Yeah, that's what Dustin and Mike said, too. I couldn't just leave them alone, so I invited them to come with us. Mike and Will get along really well, and Dustin is a little shit, and it's good for El to have friends her own age, so it all worked out."

"That still leaves out three whole kiddos," Eddie says.

"Well, Lucas and Erica we met in Will's hometown. Their dad and Will's mom had found each other and, like, bonded over having demigod kids. When we brought Will back, we met Lucas and Erica at this, like, barbeque thing to celebrate him being safe. And their parents ended up suggesting that we continue the road trip so the kids could be around others like them before school started again."

"Usually," Eddie says, fiddling with one of his rings, "parents go two ways. They either get really obsessed with keeping their kids safe to the point they're never let out of the house, or they completely ignore and reject the godly influence. But it sounds like their parents weren't doing either of those."

"Having each other helped. There was someone they could turn to when they felt doubt or just wanted to complain. When you're isolated, though, you just do whatever you think will keep you going, even if it might hurt the people you care about."

"You put that...really well."

"I've had a lotta time to think about it," Steve admits, frowning slightly before sighing and continuing with the story. "Anyway, we met Max and her brother a few towns over. It's...not a great story, actually. Her brother was a dick, like, massively horrible. He had a lot of problems and took way too much after his godly father in terms of anger. We ended up fighting because of how he treated Max and it didn't end great, but Max joined us and that's when I realized we needed a new car because the kids were piled on top of each other in the back. We got this conversion van in the next town with my dad's credit card, and we've been traveling ever since."

It's a lot to take in, and Eddie can tell there's a lot that Steve is leaving unsaid, but he doesn't call him out for it. "Okay, so, the whole not dying thing?" he asks.

Steve snorts. "Well, when you're chaperoning a gaggle of demigods, you get good at fighting off monsters. We've also had some...help along the way from a few goddesses, though."

Eddie perks up, looking at Steve like he's an alien. "You got help from goddesses? Which ones?"

"Sometimes, I'll pray to Hestia and she'll direct us to a motel with vacancies that'll be safe for the night. Or, uh, Demeter. I'll pray to her and fruit will grow on some trees or something. Hecate treated us to lunch once, said she found us amusing, and thanked me for the entertainment. Nike, Lucas, Max, and I have all played basketball together. I mean, she smoked us, no question, but she's part of the reason this van can run a few more miles without any gas. Hera helped once, sorta."

"Hera helped you? Hera? The goddess notoriously known for hating children of Zeus? That Hera?"

"Yeah, kinda surprised me, too. But, I mean, she's also the goddess of motherhood or something, right? And all she really ever wants is Zeus to be faithful. I don't think it's too much to ask, and I can't imagine the bullshit she goes through because of him. Anyway, we were getting attacked by this hydra, and I was really struggling to protect the kids. I mean, those heads were practically tearing me apart. And then she just, like, walks up and flicks her hand and the thing is gone. She told me to do better and then, like, disappeared. Not the weirdest thing that's happened, but it's up there."

And Eddie is starting to understand how they're not dead. It's just Steve. Like the prophecy was just Steve. Somehow, he's managed to get himself into the good graces of several goddesses and get their help. It's not entirely unheard of to get a god's favor, but having so many just be genuinely interested in you is unthinkable.

Eddie gets it, though. Steve fascinates him. He's like a magnet that Eddie doesn't want to fight. "So, uh, the kids," Eddie says, trying to keep his mind from lingering on Steve and just how incredible he is, "Who are their parents?"

"Lucas and Erica are kids of Aphrodite."

"Oh, does she like you, too?" Eddie asks.

Steve frowns, looking like he's just been reminded of something sour and gross. "No, we're not on good terms," he says, his voice a little frosty, and Eddie's mouth is suddenly dry.

"Good to know," he manages, his voice a little strained.

"Anyway, Dustin is a child of Athena. Max's mom is Nemesis. Will's dad is Morpheus, and Mike's dad is Plutus. Which has worked out well for us, actually. He keeps finding money on the street whenever we really need it."

"What about El?"

"El's mother...is complicated. We don't really talk about her," Steve says, his words soft and pleading, and Eddie immediately zips his mouth shut, winking conspiratorially at Steve when he glances over.

Then he unzips his mouth and says, "You know, you're pretty metal, Stevie."

Steve laughs, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth and glancing in the rearview mirror to make sure the kids are still sleeping. When he sees that they are, he relaxes a little. "I've never been called metal before," he says, glancing at Eddie.

"Well, that's a shame. I'll be sure to tell you whenever you're being particularly metal, big boy."

"Big boy?" Steve asks, amusement clear in his voice, and Eddie suddenly worries that Steve doesn't actually like the nickname but it trying to play it off.

Unfortunately, the problem is that Eddie has never been one to filter himself. So when Steve calls him out for the nickname and he panics, Eddie's knee-jerk reaction is to say, "Oh, would you prefer something else? How about pretty boy? Sweetheart? Gorgeous? Handsome?"

Even though it's dark out, Eddie can still see the blush that spreads across Steve's cheeks, the way his fingers tighten on the wheel until his knuckles turn white. He's getting flustered, and Eddie feels himself getting flustered, too, at the idea that it's because of him. He suddenly wants to see what else he can say or do to make that blush spread, and he wants to know just how far it spreads beneath the collar of Steve's shirt.

"Just, uh, whatever you prefer, I guess," Steve mumbles, keeping his eyes resolutely focused on the road and missing Eddie's surprised expression. He does, however, sneak a glance just in time to see the surprise morph into an unbridled grin.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Eddie says, leaning back in his seat and looking forward to spending the rest of this road trip discovering what makes his Stevie tick.

----

Tag List! There is still room, I think lol

@mugloversonly, @mentallyundone, @hairdryerducks-blog, @carriethesaint, @lunabyrd, @weekend-dreamer7, @farfaras, @littlelady03, @my-tears-are-becoming-a-sea20, @mogami13, @a-little-unsteddie, @itsall-taken, @queenie-ofthe-void, @tinyplanet95, @littlebluejane, @hangoversandhandgrenades, @rabbitwhoeatsstars, @bisexualdisastersworld, @steddieinthesun,

@paintgonewrong, @sadcanadianwinter, @deehellcat, @blanketlicker, @angrydonutdestiny, @booksareportal, @fallingchemicaldiscos

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part four: "The Night You Almost Kissed"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You come home drunk from Marci's bachelorette party and Daredevil/Matt decides to pay a visit. The two of you almost kiss.

Or

You imagine what is under Matt's Daredevil suit and drunkenly picture him in a red stripper's thong a few times too many. Also, screw that water glass in particular.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 3.1k

a/n: Probably the last of these installments I will get up onto tumblr for today! There are a total of 74 of these bad boys up on my AO3 account, but I'm trying to put them onto tumblr now (which is a huge project...)

After locking the apartment door behind you, you leaned against it and slipped off your heels–which were barely big enough to even be deemed heels, really. They were not even three inches because you and drinking in heels did not mix.

Drunkenly shuffling your way through your living room to your kitchen, the room slightly spinning, you raked your hands through your hair, grimacing when you felt how knotted and sticky the ends were. You were pretty sure you’d had half of one of Marci’s friends' fruity drinks accidentally spilled on you at the strip club. 

And as for the strip club, well that had ultimately been an overall incredibly uncomfortable experience for you and Karen both. The two of you had agreed–while throwing a few bills at the men who quite honestly deserved it because you couldn’t even imagine your hips doing half the things theirs were–that men in shiny thongs dancing and trying to thrust their dicks at you was in no way appealing. Though she had posed a very interesting question when she’d asked if you’d have found it sexy had it been Matt on the stage ripping the fireman outfit off and dressed in a small red thong instead. And the image it had put forth in your mind was not exactly sexy, but it was also not exactly not , either.

But what didn’t help was that you had gotten the stereotypical matching bachelorette party shirts to all wear tonight. They were Cards Against Humanity themed, Marci’s being the black card with some saying along the lines of ‘This bachelorette party was brought to you by____’ and the white card shirt you happened to be wearing solely said ‘Lots of penis jokes.’ Which…had led to a very interesting night at the bars and strip club when you were not near the group because out of context, well…you’d definitely attracted a lot of attention. The strippers loved it though, unfortunately for you, and they happened to freely offer up lots of penis jokes while gyrating theirs in front of you.

Karen had fared infinitely better. Her shirt had just said the word ‘shots’ repeatedly. Which had led to her getting a lot of free shots from guys this evening.

You reached up into the cabinet by your sink, pulling out a clean glass and then filling it up under the faucet. Your mouth was dry from the plethora of alcohol you’d downed and all the shouting over loud music you’d been doing all night. You brought the cool glass to your lips and quickly drank down the entire glass in a matter of seconds, the water soothing and hydrating on its way down. And then you slid it back under the sink, filling it up again as your eyes briefly closed and a faint headache began in your temples.

Your eyes snapped open a few moments later as you felt water pouring over your hand from the overflowing glass. “Shit,” you muttered to yourself, turning off the faucet. Very carefully you tried to bring the glass to your mouth and your mouth to the glass at the same time, the water quite literally teeming at the edge. Two sharp knocks at your window startled you and the water abruptly splashed down the front of your shirt as you startled. Your shoulders slumped as you blew out a breath, setting the half-empty glass on the counter and trying to peel the damp shirt from your skin. And then you giggled.

“Lots of wet penis jokes now,” you mused, another round of giggles escaping.

Another two knocks at your window caused you to jump again, the amusement quickly dying as your inebriated brain realized that it was probably Matt at your fire escape. Confused, you dropped your damp shirt and the material uncomfortably clung to your stomach as you slowly made your way towards the window. Sure enough, Daredevil was standing on your fire escape.

Your brows rose as you unlocked the window and slid it up, stepping aside to let him in. Matt climbed through effortlessly before sliding the window closed behind him. He pulled the helmet from off of his head, running a hand through his sweaty and messy hair. He was wearing a matching confused expression as he focused on you.

“I thought Foggy’s bachelor party was tonight?” you asked him. “Don’t tell me you left him to do this?”

Matt shook his head in response, his brows still furrowed as he stared back at you. “No, that ended a little over an hour ago. I didn’t really drink,” he answered. His head cocked to the side as his eyes narrowed. “You know, I try really hard not to eavesdrop, but were you just…giggling about wet penis jokes?”

A loud, clumsy laugh burst out of you and when an embarrassing snort followed after, you threw a hand to your mouth to try to cover the sound. Matt’s eyes crinkled at the corners, a smile playing along his lips as he listened to you laugh like a deranged, intoxicated hyena for a minute. Eventually you slowed down, trying hard to catch your breath.

“That’s what my shirt says,” you tried to explain.

His eyebrows rose up onto his forehead. “Your shirt says lots of wet penis jokes?” he asked.

You laughed into your hand again, shaking your head. You were too drunk to be even remotely embarrassed right now. “No,” you answered him, still laughing a little. “No we had matching bachelorette shirts. Cards Against Humanity themed. You know that one game where there’s a fill in the blank thing?” Matt nodded, still smiling. “Well my shirt just says ‘Lots of penis jokes’. And I was trying to drink some water when you knocked and I spilled it all over my shirt and–” You stopped, waving a hand at him and shaking your head. “Nevermind, you’d probably need to be drunk to appreciate it.”

“Yeah it sure sounds like it,” he teased. “I bet that was real fun walking around wearing that out of context tonight.”

“It was a real hit at the strip club, that’s for sure,” you told him. “Gave the impression that I’m vastly less awkward than I really am to boldly wear this shirt out all night.”

Matt slowly cracked up, the sound eventually giving way to a loud laugh. “I’d have loved to be a fly on the wall hearing you at a strip club. I can only imagine…I’ll have to ask Karen and Marci for the details.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “You’ll have to ask Karen. Marci was a little too drunk and preoccupied to be paying much attention to me.”

“I assume you had fun?” he asked.

“Yeah, I did. But I’m pretty drunk right now, Murdock, I’ll be honest,” you said.

“I know, I can smell the alcohol,” he told you. 

You scrunched your nose, taking a step back. “Sorry, that’s got to be pretty awful to you,” you apologized.

He said your name, the word slightly sobering as he smiled softly at you. “I go drinking at Josie’s like every Friday night. I can handle the smell of alcohol.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand across your forehead. That headache was really starting to take shape.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you,” you began, your attention returning to Matt, “because I’m always happy to see you–”

“Oh?” Matt asked, boyish grin spreading on his face as he cut you off. “You’re always happy to see me?”

“Well–I mean–you’re my friend and I–” you stammered, trying to backtrack to make yourself look less like a fool but somehow looking more like one. He only grinned wider. You sighed loudly, the sound mingled with a groan. “Must I remind you, Murdock, I am very drunk right now,” you stated flatly. You waved a hand towards your face, assuming he could at least somewhat understand the gesture. “Brain to mouth filter totally gone. Stupid thoughts are just bound to come out. Ignore me.”

“That’s the last thing I’d like to do right now,” he playfully teased.

You flushed, and for some reason with him standing there in your living room, helmet in hand and tight-fitting Daredevil suit on, Karen’s words rang through your mind. And then you couldn’t help but wonder exactly what he wore under that suit. Nothing at all? Boxers? Shiny red thong? Your bottom lip caught between your teeth, heat further rushing up to your face as you wondered just how tone he was under there next, because you’d seen how his dress shirts hugged his body. And then you wondered how well he could move his hips and your teeth clamped down just a bit harder on your lip.

Matt cleared his throat, the sound drawing you out of your drunken thoughts. “Something on your mind?” he asked, an undertone of something akin to amusement in his tone.

Your eyes went wide realizing you’d just been standing there, staring at him in your apartment silently for way too long to be normal. He had probably picked up on your blushing and your elevated heart rate and who the hell knew what else your body was doing that only he was aware of. You blinked rapidly a few times, trying to push those inappropriate thoughts from your mind–at least while he was still here–and vowed to never be this drunk in Matt’s presence again.

“No,” you answered quickly, your voice breaking on the word. He kept staring at you with that smug smirk and it was doing things to you that you simultaneously did and did not like. You shook your head lightly, crossing your arms over your chest. “So uh, why the late night visit?” you managed to ask.

“I told you I’d be keeping an eye on your place,” he answered, the smug smirk finally fading from his face as a more serious expression returned. “Just making sure Figueroa’s men aren’t lurking around here for you.”

“Oh, well that’s unsettling,” you mumbled. “And have they been?”

He shook his head, a softer smile spreading across his face as he gazed back at you, his focus on your left shoulder. “No, not for a while. A few weeks back there were two men–” your heart jumped at the information and noticing, Matt quickly assured you, “–but I took care of them, don’t worry. They’re…incapacitated at the moment. You’re safe.” 

He hesitated a moment, shifting his weight on his feet. Was he actually…nervous? Was Matt Murdock nervous ? You were certainly too drunk to make sense of that.

“Honestly you’re probably safe at this point but I still come by to check on your place when I’m out,” he admitted. “Just to–to be sure. I uh, I was doing that but then I realized you were here and thought I’d stop by and say hey.”

“Oh,” you said, too drunk to make sense of that, too. “Uh, hey?”

He chuckled, his face breaking into a smile again. “Hey,” he whispered back.

You swallowed hard. There was that look on his face again, the one that had been appearing more on his face ever since the night you’d learned his big secret. And even sober you had no idea what to make of it. He’d been shooting it your way at Josie’s and at lunch dates with everyone during the week. Even that time you ran into him getting coffee last Thursday afternoon he’d looked at you like that when you’d realize he was also waiting in line and had greeted him.

That look was dangerous. It made butterflies multiply in your stomach. It sent your heart into overdrive, not sure if it wanted to beat out of your chest or up into your throat or just fall flat from your fucking ass to the floor. It had your hands itching to grab him by his almost–too-tight dress shirts and crush his lips onto yours when he kept flashing it your way.

Your drunk brain took a moment to catch up, but eventually it did. You blinked hard, tearing your gaze away.

“You want some water?” you asked, the first thing to pop into your head. “You’re probably dying in that suit and I could probably do with drinking more water instead of just spilling it on myself,” you said, the words jumbling together in a blur.

“Uh, sure,” he replied, his head tilting just a bit to the side.

You turned, the room spinning momentarily as you did, and then shuffled back towards your kitchen. Focusing on getting a glass from the cabinet and filling it with water, you tried to force all of those thoughts from your head. You were not about to believe he liked you like that. And you certainly needed to stop thinking about kissing his perfect, soft lips. With a sigh, you turned off the tap and spun around, but then your breath immediately caught in your throat.

Matt had somehow silently followed you to the kitchen and was standing barely a foot away from you, his helmet discarded on the kitchen counter nearby. Both of your hands had a death grip on the glass of water that was the only thing separating him from you. 

He was so close–his mouth was so close. You could take one little step and lift your head a few inches, lean forward into that small gap between the two of you and just kiss him. 

Wait. Had you actually just taken one step towards him? 

Your eyes were glued to his mouth, only slightly aware of his face looking at you with that look as he gazed down at you mere inches above your own face. And then you saw his tongue slowly dart out between his lips, something he’d done often as usually a frustrated or nervous tick it seemed, but right now it felt like something else. You couldn’t not watch the way it trailed along his lower lip so slowly, leaving a slight sheen of dampness in its wake. 

You were practically fighting to stay rooted to the floor, afraid your drunk mind was truly thinking he could be actually leaning in and trying to kiss you. There was no way. Matt would never kiss you. But as your heart continued to rage in your chest, you could have sworn he'd leaned in even closer. Breath shallow and palms sweating against the glass, your eyes slowly fluttered closed. 

And then the glass slipped from your sweating palms onto the floor with a loud crash and bits of glass and water covered the ground at your feet.

"Shit!" you exclaimed.

Without a thought and trying to break out of whatever trance Matt had somehow put you in, you bent down to pick up the mess. And you were definitely too drunk and dazed from whatever had been about to possibly happen to remember that broken glass was sharp and hurt. 

"Shit!" you exclaimed again, hand darting back as blood poured from the fresh cut a particularly large chunk had given you.

"Whoa, hey, stop," Matt said quickly.

He bent down and pulled you up by your shoulders. His eyes dropped towards your hand. "You're bleeding," he observed. 

"It's not that bad," you muttered. "It's just a small cut." You groaned in frustration, eyes on the bleeding gash. "I'm just a mess tonight apparently, spilling water and cutting myself on glass." You sighed, raising a foot to try to step around the mess so you could clean it.

Matt's hands still on your shoulders gripped tighter and momentarily halted your movements. "You barefoot trying to step around broken glass sounds like a terrible idea," he pointed out. "Here, I'll bandage your cut and clean this up. Let me just get you to your couch."

Your inebriated mind took so long to comprehend what he'd just said that Matt was already wrapping his arms carefully around you and lifting you up from the kitchen floor. Your arms flew to him instinctively, your hands clutching at the strange material covering his broad shoulders as the room spun yet again. Glass crunched under his heavy boots as he carried you in his arms out of the kitchen. 

You were slightly stiff in his arms, afraid if you touched him and relaxed into them you'd somehow not be able to stop wanting to touch him. And then you remembered your hand was bleeding and abruptly released his shoulder muttering a curse. 

"What?" he asked.

"I forgot my hand was bleeding," you answered, "and I'm pretty sure I just got blood on your suit, sorry."

Matt chuckled as he stopped just in front of your couch, the sound rumbling in his chest and vibrating against your body in his arms. 

''You are certainly not the first one to get blood on this," he said, grinning down at you. "I can promise you that."

"Well that's dark," you muttered, staring back up at him.

He was gazing affectionately down at you again, his mouth still quirked in a slightly amused grin. Once again his lips were so close to yours and you found your hand itching to reach up and just graze your fingertips along his stubbled jaw, just to trace the line of it. His lips parted ever so slightly and the movement caught your eye. 

"I should–should probably bandage your hand," he murmured. "You're still bleeding."

"Right," you said softly.

He cleared his throat, his eyes breaking their focus on you as he leaned forward and gently set you onto your couch. You felt a chill run down your spine as he released you, your body colder without the warmth of his against yours.

"You have a first aid kit?" he asked.

Cheeks flushing you shook your head. "No, but I do have some band-aids in the bathroom. Behind the mirror, second shelf on the right."

He chuckled softly, grin still on his face as he said, "I'm getting you a first aid kit."

One of your brows rose questioningly towards him. "Why? Because I'm just that clumsy you think I need it?" you asked him.

"That," he said in amusement, "and also because I'll probably need it occasionally."

Something stirred in your chest, a faint feeling like a warm flutter. "You planning to be around that often to need it?" you asked him, feeling a little breathless.

"Yeah," he answered softly, "if you let me."

Your cheeks burned as you watched him turn, easily navigating down your hall to your bathroom in search of your band-aids. 

Yes, you were certainly too drunk to make sense of that , too.