In Hiding Until October

He sat down on the couch near the desk and said, "Alright then, just asking. But you do know that there's a quidditch game tomorrow, don't you?"

Through gritted teeth, you replied, "I'm well aware of that."

"And won't you need to get some sleep then since you're a chaser?"

You set down the quill and glared at the ginger, "I'll be fine Ron. Why don't you get some sleep," you jabbed a finger at him? "Since you're the keeper."

"Okay, no need to get grumpy," he held his hands up. "I'm only asking."

Without saying anything else Ron began to make his way to the stairs but stop when he heard your voice. "Ron... I'm sorry I snapped you, " Your shoulders sagged as you continued, "I've been up half the night working. It was sideways anger. I'm sorry."

Smiling, Ron turned back to you and said, " It's okay, I understand." He sat down again, saying, "Does this mean you'll get some rest now?"

"Nope. I have to finish this by tonight and hopefully get it done in the next hour."

Ron shrugged his shoulders to your stubborn response, determined he wouldn't leave you alone. " Guess I'll stay here for some moral support."

The portrait swung open and going in, Harry saw you. You were sitting at one of the desks in the far corner of the room with your back behind him. Harry walked behind you and asked, "There you are. Why weren't you at breakfast?"

You didn't respond, nor turned around.

"Y/N?" He put his hand on your shoulder and peered into your face. You didn't look well. Your hair was a mess, and they were dark bags under your eyes. "Y/N," cried Harry, startled at your appearance. "Are you all, right?"

You looked back at him with drooping eyes. "Oh, hey Harry... I'm doing fine... just a bit tired," and with that you bonked your head on the desk.

Harry's eyes crossed to the desk to see it littered with schoolwork. There were sheets of parchment out with your handwriting on them, a half-finished sketch of a bowtruckle, and many textbooks lying about either open or closed.

He sat down and shook your shoulder, lightly. "Y/N?"

"Yeah Harry?" You raised your head briefly, then rested it on his own shoulder.

"Did you get any sleep last?"

Without looking up you replied, "Umm... yeah, some sleep."

Harry lifted your head to his own and opened your eyes with his thumb and index fingers. "How much sleep exactly?"

Taking your time to answer, you mumbled, "Hmmm... twenty minutes?"

"Twenty minutes!" Harry yelled, surprised.

"What?" You looked surprised as well, wondering what was wrong.

"Only twenty minutes!"

"That's what I said," You answered, getting annoyed with him. "I've been getting behind on my homework, so I've had to pull some all-nighters for the past three nights."

Harry jumped in his seat and shouted, "Three nights! It's been three nights since you've slept!"

"Well, not really..." You yawned, rubbing your eyes. "I've grabbed a nap here and there between classes and lunches." You slumped in the chair. Harry sighed. Irritated, he massaged his temples and stared at you in disbelief.

A part of him felt bad that he hadn't noticed before. You hadn't appeared for lunch the past few days and he didn't question it. Nor did he notice the tired aroma surrounding you. He stood up and scooped you up in his arms.

"Will you take to my room, Harry?"

"Uh, I would but I physically can't," he remembered the time Ron tried and the result was an alarm going off and the stairs turning into a slide.

"Take me to your dormitory then please," you mumbled, nestling your head on Harry's chest.

"Okay," Harry repositioned you in his arms, grabbed Quidditch through the Ages, and walked up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory. Thankfully it was empty. He laid you down on his bed and covered you in a blanket.

“Hello, Dr. Bashir. It’s a little late for a starlit walk, don’t you think?” Rao stopped in his tracks, turning slowly around to face the speaker. Hidden in a shadowy alcove was a person. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out this late.”

The voice was female, perhaps human or at least humanoid. Was this woman intimately acquainted with Doctor Bashir? To give control over to the human would only exacerbate matters.

He forced an explanation out; the words curling unfamiliarly around the thick, flabby human tongue. “No—it is not—too late. I have—bus-in-ess—on this lev-el.”

She released her breath in a low uneven manner, which passed for laughing in humans, he recalled. “Careful. With a suspicious answer like that, someone might think you’re up to no good.” She stepped forward, allowing him to see her better. She wore a Starfleet jumpsuit with a gold top, paired with a lazy smile and narrowed eyes.

He bit back sneer. Why did people have to be so nosy? There always seemed to be an annoyance who wanted to pry his secrets from him. And seldom was it simple inquisitiveness, not in his precarious circumstances.

With a shrug of the shoulder, he inched forward pretending to be indifferent to her accusation. If the conversation went sideways, he wanted to be within arms reach to strangle her and toss the body out the nearest airlock.

“Then again, I’m not gonna begrudge you keeping secrets. Not if you’d like to keep another one.” With surprising ease, she slipped around him and cornered him into the alcove where she’d been moments prior.

He permitted this maneuver, curious to know what her intentions were. He detected a sultry edge in her voice, and her eyes were hungry as she held his gaze. “Would that be amenable to you, doctor?”

Rao released a breath, deciding what was best to say. Surely the smart thing to do was rebuff the woman this instant and continue on his way to the infirmary and relinquish control to Bashir so as to avoid suspicion.

No doubt Kajada’s body would be found soon by that sniveling Ferengi, and the dear doctor would be called to perform an autopsy. When she traced her fingertips along his jaw, the subtle scent of her perfume wafting over him, Rao made his decision.

For too long had he denied himself the pleasures of the flesh in pursuit of his scientific goals. A quick tryst with a delicious female wouldn’t harm any of his plans. Rao gripped her shoulders and captured her lips with his own. He felt her gasp at his sudden force but paid it no mind. She’d wanted his attention and now she had it. Completely. It was too late to back out.

He wrapped one hand around her waist and the other trailed down to squeeze her breast, firm yet soft and much too covered by the stiff uniform for his liking. She smiled beneath his lips and shoved him hard against the wall. Rao was not used to this particular treatment from females but couldn’t lie and say that he was not intrigued by it.

Her hands wandered leisurely over his body—it was Rao’s body now, not Bashir’s—taking their time to map every inch before descending further down to his groin and the prominent bulge that lay there. The resulting heat flushed through his system, extinguishing what little sense there was left in him.

Rao wondered if this woman regularly stalked the station’s corridors for men to seduce. If so, then the doctor was a fool to have never taken advantage of her yet. He would not make the same mistake. A public hallway wasn’t an ideal place to engage in sexual activities, though it did add to the excitement that at any moment they could be caught.

How he might deal with that situation unfolding without letting his host become aware of it would be difficult, but the growing friction between his legs made it harder and harder to concentrate on such trivial things. Becoming impatient with the layers of clothing between them, he searched for the zipper or clasp that would undo her uniform.

Blast it! Where could it be!

A small chirp interrupted their quiet groans and a voice sounded from the badge on his chest. “Cohen to Bashir.”

Rao drew back just enough to tap his combadge and respond, “Bashir here.” He’d barely said the words when the woman once more connected her mouth to his.

“Dr. Bashir, an emergency has occurred. A person’s just been found after falling from a balcony at Quarks. Serious injuries sustained. We’re transporting her to the infirmary.” Rao let out another groan, quite different from his previous ones. So, Kajada wasn’t dead. No matter, he’d find some other way to silence her for good.

In the meantime, he had to scrounge up as much willpower as he could to disengage himself from this alluring female. It wasn’t too tough; Rao hadn’t gone as far as he did in life by succumbing to every whim and fancy that struck him.

Nevertheless, it was with some regret that he finally pulled away. She followed him, burying her head in the crook of his neck. “Ugh, great timing,” she mumbled. She glanced at him, her eyes burning into his, begging him not to leave. Her teeth dragged across her bottom lip and she asked, “Care to continue this later?”

Rao gripped her chin, weighing the pros and cons of killing her. She might become a loose end and it’d be better to snip it sooner rather than later before it became a problem. Although people might start asking questions about her disappearance; there was the slim chance that it’d lead straight back to him. The voice sounded again, urging Bashir to hurry.

There was no time to murder her. Besides, this trollop was not important enough to dispatch. Rao enveloped her in one last long kiss, then muttered, “See me—at your—dis-cre-tion.”

Perhaps, they could finish what they’d begun before he left the station. Pushing her aside, he straightened his rumpled uniform and alerted the infirmary of his—or rather Bashir’s—imminent arrival.

୭ ˚.

Julian stood silent and still in the empty infirmary. Sisko, Dax, and the others had left a few minutes ago to attend to their duties, relieved that the trouble with Rao Vantika was over. It was over and done with, so there was no use in dwelling on the incident any longer. At least that’s what Julian told himself as he stared at the blank monitor screen.

Running his hands through his already mussed up hair, he let out a shaky breath. Kajada had said that Vantika’s actions weren't Julian’s fault and he could see her point of view to a certain extent. 

In theory it made sense. He did not know Rao was in possession of his body, therefore, he was a victim as much as everyone else. But he should’ve known. Somehow, someway. What troubled him the most was how powerless he’d been.

Some doctor he was!

What ached more than the throbbing in his head was the humiliation; it hurt worse than a mehax wasp’s stinger. To be brought down to such a level by a mad scientist was a shame almost too great to bear. But bear it he would because that was what a Starfleet doctor ought to do in trying times.

If only Julian could convince himself of that. He grabbed his PADD, checking what appointments he had scheduled for the rest of the day. Sulking never did anyone any good and Julian would be damned if he allowed himself to wallow in his failure for even one more minute.

The faint pitter-patter of footsteps was the only warning he received before a body hurled itself at him at what felt like maximum speed. For one heart-wrenching second Julian was afraid it was Rao Vantika miraculously alive, determined to exact his revenge for his near death.

Then he felt arms wrapped around his neck, not in a murderous strangler’s grip, but in a passionate embrace—how a person might hold a lover. A mouth attached to his lips in an impatient kiss. Julian—normally quite receptive to all forms of affection—was too stunned to return it.

Though this didn’t seem to bother the woman kissing him. She carried on as if they were standing in front of an altar, vows said and rings exchanged! She broke off with an almost audible pop! and said in a rush, “Oh, Julian, I’m so sorry I couldn’t come sooner but my shift ran late. Stupid pylons kept breaking.”

She pecked him on the cheek, snuggling closer to him. Julian felt the spot where she kissed him and looked down to see lipstick smudging his fingers. “Whoops, I guess I got some on you. How about that? Doesn’t look too bad on you though.”

Julian was used to women often launching themselves at him. After all who could blame them with his dashing good looks, charming personality, and captivating intelligence and wit. But it had never been this literal! Yet this unknown woman was hanging off him as if they’d been lifelong lovers. He asked, “Who are you?”

Her smile faded and the joy in the eyes dimmed somewhat. Her grip slacked as she replied, “Don’t you remember? That night in the corridor? You told me to meet you again at my convenience so we could continue our little rendezvous…”

Dammit.

Last night Vantika had taken control of his body, manipulating it like a hapless doll. Apparently, pushing Kajada off a balcony hadn’t been the only thing the criminal scientist had accomplished. That lunatic had taken advantage of a darling young woman, believing him to be the real chief medical officer and then . . . and then exactly what he didn’t know.

Oh curse that Kobliad! He was dead and he was still causing troubles for Julian. What he needed to do was explain to this stranger that who she met in that corridor wasn’t actually Julian but an alien who used an ingenious method to implant his consciousness into his body, taking over only at select times.

She edged closer to him; her breath was sweet, acting as a soothing balm for his bruised ego. “Julian, is something wrong?”

Julian had a thought. What if he looked at this opportunity as a parting gift from the unwitting Rao Vantika, a boon of sorts for all the headaches he had caused. Yes . . . maybe a nice pick me up was exactly what Julian needed right now. And this lovely, fresh-faced woman in his arms seemed eager to give it.

He cupped her cheek, drawing her in, nuzzling his nose across the tantalizing skin of her neck. Pressing feather-light kisses to it, he whispered, “No, no. However, I might require my memory to be refreshed. If you’re willing and able to, of course.”

She let out a small moan at his tender ministrations and sighed, “It’d be my pleasure, Julian.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Oh no, not him too. You rushed over, placing your hand to his forehead and running a scanner across his body. The reading was higher than what was normal for a human.

Beads of perspiration dotted his skin, and he closed his eyes, mumbling, “Cultural Falsify, spontaneous seek moon outlet expression price pure master scene.”

“I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t understand a lick of what you’re trying to say and I wager you can’t understand me either.” You helped him up to his feet and he obliged, albeit shakily. “C’mon, let’s go. You need to be with the others.”

Step-by-step, you helped Julian walk to the crewmates’ quarters. You couldn’t believe this was happening. You’d still held hope that the good doctor would make an antidote in time before the sickness caught up with him. Now that he was officially out of action, what hope was there?

An hour later, you were dashing among the patients, providing what little help you could. An infected girl cried in the arms of her mamma, snot running down her nose, and speaking gibberish. You wiped her nose and gave them some water. You passed by the cot where Julian lay, fitfully tossing and turning.

He muttered over and over, “Spontaneous classify expand. Classify pure master scene.” Sitting down beside him, you held an ice pack against his hot forehead. He looked at you with burning eyes, intent on communicating his message through them, if not through words.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Julian, don’t worry. It’ll be okay.” You combed your fingers through his hair and tried your best to sound hopeful, however, it came out more strained than you would’ve liked.

The next words tumbled out before you could process them. “I love you. I wish I wasn’t telling you like this, under these circumstances but… I do. I truly do.” Julian just stared at you, uncomprehending. You grabbed his hand and pressed a soft kiss to it.

He said, “Glimpse frank panel w-withdraw?”

Overcome by grief, you dropped his hand. Oh why hadn’t you confessed sooner! The love of your life might die and you were powerless to stop it! It was too much to bear, and you stepped away from him and continued on to the next patient even as he cried out, “Shortage, Shortage! Runner responsible!”

You had to carry on with your duties, but it wasn’t a lie to say that you left your heart by his bedside.

•─────⋅☾

Next week you were sitting down at a table in the upper part of Quark’s bar. From your seat, you could view the packed tables, filled with rowdy customers, laughing, chatting, drinking, and gambling.

All was back to normal—or as normal as Deep Space Nine could be—since Major Nerys forced Doctor Surmak Ren to provide the cure to that terrible disease. All the patients were back to their original state of health and life continued as before. 

And for that you could not have been more grateful. The last thing you needed was to explain to Doctor Bashir what you said to him and why you’d kissed his hand. Fortunately, he seemed to have no memory of the incident.

Some part of you wondered what might have happened if he remembered or if you made a second confession to your long time friend. But it was a foolish thing to do the first time and it’d be doubly worse to repeat the mistake. You had been running on high emotions and let your guard down; it wouldn’t happen again.

You took a swig of your Tamarian frost and almost spat it out when you heard someone shout your name above the din. Julian—the last person you wanted to see right now—was elbowing his way through the crowds to make his way to your table.

He flashed you his usual wide grin and asked, “Don’t mind a little company tonight, do you?” Without waiting for an answer, he plopped himself down in the vacant chair. “Wonderful seeing this place back to business as usual, especially after last week’s fiasco.”

“Uh, yes, very nice.” Labelling the dangerous health crisis as a ‘fiasco’ was certainly a choice, but you couldn’t begrudge him making light of the situation. Everyone did survive after all.“It is a bit odd though.”

His brow furrowed as he rapidly tapped the side of his glass. “I can’t remember the experience too well and what I do remember I’m not sure was real or fever induced delirium. For instance, I seem to recall grass growing up from the floor, but nothing of that remains so I’m forced to believe it was a delusion.”

“I can personally attest that there was no grass growing, Julian.” You sipped your drink to steady your nerves.

“Yes, you can, can’t you? You were one of the few who wasn’t infected? Or didn’t show the outward symptoms at least. I’ve given you my thanks once and I'll give them to you again. Without you, those people would’ve suffered far more. Me included.”

“No thanks is needed. I was just doing my job,” you responded.

He shook his head, his smile never once faltering. “As modest as ever. Seems to be a trait people like. Maybe I’ll learn it someday.”

He winked and clinked his glass with yours, saying, “I do have one question. Something I can’t figure out is fact or fiction.” He leaned forward, shoulders hunching slightly, as if delivering a great secret. “I have this image of you—this memory of sorts—of you tending to me while I was sick.”

Oh no.

He reached out, trailing his fingers over your hand. “You told me something. Something of great significance I suspect . . . and you kissed me. Or my hand that is. It was quite vivid and I was hoping you could confirm this as real. Or not.”

You froze as your mind raced to find an acceptable, non-humiliating answer. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. He knew. He definitely knew, didn’t he? It wasn’t possible; he couldn’t have understood you! Julian tilted his head, eyes drilling into yours, as if he could determine the truth just by looking at you.

He might be able to, given the lack of response so far. He grabbed both of your hands and shouted, “You did! I know you did! What I’m not quite sure about is what you told me. You seemed very distressed.”

“I was– I was expressing my remorse about not getting a raise in time,” you forced a laugh, hoping the joke would put him off your scent. “I’d be terribly sad if my boss died before he could agree to it.”

“Hmm, is that so…” Julian quirked an eyebrow up. He brought your hand up to his lips and began placing delicate kisses to each and everyone of your fingertips, never breaking eye contact with you. “And here I was hoping you had confessed your undying love to me.”

Your smile dropped and you wished a hole would breach Quark’s, so you could be sucked into the distant void of outer space rather than confront this man. Oh mercy, would the Prophets ever deliver you from him?!

Suddenly, you tightened your grip on his hands. The Prophets almost did deliver you from him; he almost died and your heart was practically wrenched from your body.

You were lost. The secret was out. Why deny it any further? The words clawed their way up your throat and got stuck halfway. “Julian, I…”

He came closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. “Am I wrong?”

It was too much. Julian had this nasty habit of backing you into a corner. He’d done it before in order to win arguments; proposing possible answers, then pulling the rug underneath you, leaving you stranded with nowhere to go but to his awaiting arms. “How did you know?”

“Your eyes. The eyes never lie. You could have been giving me a lecture on Bolian economics and I still would’ve recognized the love in those beautiful, gorgeous, mesmerizing eyes of yours. No fever-induced delusion could ever be so lovely as that sight.”

You ducked your head, embarrassed by your total transparency, but Julian gently guided you to meet his gaze again. “I’m only sorry it occurred under those conditions. I would have preferred being more—ah—myself, so I could properly make my mutual feelings known.”

Wistfully, you mumbled, “It’s not too late…”

“Eager aren’t we?”

You couldn’t bear his self-satisfied smirk, so you decided to wipe it off with a kiss, which seemed to please Julain very, very much. He leaned farther across the table as he sunk deeper and deeper into the kiss. Earlier, you had marked the day Julian almost died as one of the worst in your life, yet now you saw it in an entirely new light.

Without that event, you might’ve never worked up the courage to tell him and because of it—and Julian’s determination to find out the truth—you were here in his arms, pulling him closer and closer until he was nearly on top of the table.

Not wanting to bring too much attention to yourselves, you broke off, pushing him down back into his seat. Julian let out a soft whine. You explained, “Not here. Quark will notice and start charging his customers to watch us.”

“Then we better go somewhere more private, yes?”