"Little White Lies" by bmouse
The Misc bin! A home for small unconnected DS9 ficlets that might have slipped through the cracks on my tumblr. Currently contains Garak/Bashir (is anyone surprised) and a little fledgeling Jake/Ziyal.
Series of ficlets/drabbles, mostly Garashir, around all sorts of little situations, all of them quite sweet. I’m fond of the one I quote below but I think my favorite is the one involving Julian baking.
[Julian has been catching up with Miles via long-range transmitter. He’s on Cardassia, Miles is on Earth.]
He wonders what his friend sees; what changes are hidden, what evident. His hair is faintly fluffy where Garak helped him trim it (cool strong hands on his scalp - heavenly on a hot morning) but still longer than it used to be. He’s a shade darker than he’d ever been on the station. Cardassia is probably the most natural sunlight he’s ever had: a lifetime’s worth packed into a year. He knows he’s let certain things lapse. Most of the people he sees day-to-day don’t even have a baseline for what a normal Terran can do, and for the price of the ‘exotic offworlder’ label he’s free to be exactly what he is.
They talk and talk. About what everyone’s been up to, about the reconstruction terraforming, about what students are driving him ‘up the bloody wall’ and Miles doesn’t seem to notice any of it: not the longer nails, or the slightly-inhuman stillness in between his movements, or the familiar stitching on his pale green shirt because eventually he sighs and says “So… you find him yet?”
Julian smiles. “Yes. It took a bit, but yes.”
Miles scrunches up his wide honest face in a way that plainly says he feels it’s his duty to ask, no matter how much he might not want to hear the answer.
“I married him.”