(Other offering flavors coming soon, they are not as well organized!)

Third Sacrificial Offering of more Deep Dish Nine I held back from 2014. More before this one and more to come after.

I’m genuinely confused this one was not put up on AO3, but I guess it just didn’t get long enough. This is the whole document, as I found it.

Thanks for keeping me alive through January.

DD9 Offering #3: Library - Julian reads Cardassian manga.

–

“The library?” Garak is pleasantly amused. There’s no hint of skepticism, no disappointment and Julian is delighted, but unsurprised. After all, who would have bet against the idea of Garak being a library man? Still, as the setting for a date, it is a bit odd.

“If you don’t mind? There are some things there I’d really like to show you, and they aren’t going to let me take them out because I already have three reference books overdue.”

“I don’t mind, not at all. What are you showing me?”

Julian grins. “You’ve been encouraging me to expand my horizons, right?”

“Yes…”

“I’m going to expand yours. What do you know about comics?”

Garak raises his eyebrows and Julian catches a hint of a frown on his lips before he takes a bite of his (highly unusual!) slice of pizza. “…Not much.”

“Good, then we will have plenty to talk about!”

Julian leaves lunch that day more excited to go to the library than he’d ever been before.

***

Julian leads Garak up the stairs and through the twists and turns of the stacks and shelves until they are buried deep in an unfrequented reference section. He’d come here to the little bench in front of the window once a year or two ago, found it a good place to find a thrill or two and get your heart broken, so it was the first place he thought of when learning about comics called for seclusion.

Not that it really did call for seclusion. As Julian watches Garak reluctantly settle on the window seat he considers that there is really no reason this had to be a private session at all. In fact, this might be misinterpreted as not at all about comics and really more about thrills and broken hearts.

“I thought you might like to be away from everyone.” Julian makes up every syllable the second before he utters it. Garak looks intrigued and that’s thrilling and terrifying and too intense do deal with head on, so Julian tries to joke it gently away. “You know, in case being seen looking at comics would damage your reputation.”

“My reputation can scarcely be damaged more than it is. A few pictures aren’t going to hurt me.” Garak picks up the book from the top of the stack between them and narrows his eyes. “Is this an adaptation of-?”

Julian’s excitement is renewed. “The death story! Yes!”

Garak eyes the book like it has just hurled insults at his mother. Julian ‘harumphs’ and holds his hand out for it. “Since you can’t just look at it, give it to me and we’ll walk through it.”

Julian’s implication that Garak is being childish hits home and Garak opens the book. “Isn’t this kind of story telling a little… juvenile?”

“I can’t believe you’re saying this! I am sincerely shocked!”

“So convince me otherwise.”

Julian grabs one of the other books and begins flipping pages to find the examples he needs. “Well, first of all, not all the stories told this way are the kind you’re thinking of. Sure, a lot of them are goofy kids’ stuff, but so are a lot of movies, regular books, and music. It’s just another story telling method, that’s it.”

Garak is a few pages into his death adaptation and his frown and tense eyebrows are lessening. “It’s hard to get used to this format.”

Julian finds the page he wanted. “So said the poor Federation man when his retinas were burned out by a Romulan film.”

Garak stops reading, though he doesn’t look up from the book, and laughs very softly at himself. “My apologies. Try to teach me what you want.” He looks up then, smiling finally, and chooses to borrow another line from Julian. “I’m willing to learn something.”

“Then, here, look at this.” Julian leans over the stack of books between them, resting his elbow on the top, so Garak can see the page he’s looking at. Garak takes hold of one side of the book slowly, like he’s being drawn to something on the page.

He speaks slowly, sounds a bit overwhelmed. “Are these all Cardassian books?”

“Yes. I’d read most of these a few years ago – I had sort of a comics phase – and I thought they were okay then, but they didn’t make a lot of sense to me. But after talking with you, this whole section makes so much more sense. I didn’t notice the differences in how they were holding their hands before, and now I definitely do. Even – oh, oh, here, hang on-” He tugs the book from Garak’s hand and flips until he finds the next significant page. He shoves it back in front of Garak perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

“Here, here. The collarbone thing! This has been really useful. I’ve been able to see what sort of contexts it’s used in!”

“Useful? Were you… Was this research?”

Julian shrugs. “A little? I guess.”

Garak pulls another book simply titled Petals from the stack. He smiles when he looks at the cover – a drawing of a very sweet and innocent-looking Cardassian girl – and the smile gets wider when he begins flipping through the pages. “And you read all of these?”

“Yes.”

“You did notice that this one is a romance story written for teenage girls, correct?”

“Noticed that a bit more this last time around, yes. The first time I couldn’t understand why there were whole pages devoted to images of hands.”

Garak’s eyes widen. “You read this more than once?”

Julian frowns, a little defensive. “Yes, thank you.”

“How did you manage without political intrigue or someone in a suit shooting a gun?”

“I was learning!”

“Shhh, we’re in a library.”

“Sorry. But still. Teenagers are supposed to be navigating romantic waters for the first time, so, culturally, it seemed appropriate to see how they used their hands when they were awkward and new at it too.”

“And now you’re going to use your hands like a teenage girl.” Garak has a page open that is panel after flowered panel of hands and eyes. “I’m at a loss as to how you could even make sense of this.”

“I think that particular page is more about feelings than saying that they touched their fingers six times. It’s the same incident from several angles, I think. Or maybe it is six times and that’s just something else I missed. The art style can be a bit vague on anything that isn’t hands and eyes.”

“No, no, I think you’re right. Perhaps is makes more intuitive sense to people used to these kinds of things… ” Garak turns the book at a few odd angles before he closes it and sets it aside, shaking his head. “Ziyal would probably like that one.”

“You could get it out for her to look at.”

“I rather think that gesture would be misinterpreted, but I’ll be sure to let her know there are stories here she might enjoy. What other dubious sources are you learning from?”

Julian grins and shakes his head as he pulls another book from the stack. It’s The Empty House, which he’d taken home and had actually teared up over once, though he was not going to share that part. “This was incredibly sad, and it’s a bit more adult than Petals. You might like this one.”

“And what did this one teach you?”

“That people making hand gestures at each other could be heartbreaking, mostly. People trying to take the hands of dead relatives and crying over the lack of warmth or an unreciprocated gesture that had always been mutual… This one wouldn’t have been as sad if I hadn’t known a few things already. And I think it helped clarify things.”

Garak raises his eyebrows. “Go on.”

Julian readjusts himself in his seat and angles himself a bit more toward Garak. “Well, what you’ve been doing has so many uses it’s almost dizzying, but nearly all boil down to something like a declaration of romantic intent and a wish for reciprocation if done by one person.”

Garak’s grip on The Empty House ’tightens and he becomes suddenly very interested in the cover. “I suppose that’s correct.”

“It also seems to have a slightly different meaning if both people do it. I seriously can’t count the number of times in Petals that that poor girl was devastated that that gesture was not mutual. From what I’ve seen, though, with both people it’s still signaling fondness and intent, but it’s still not a concrete establishment of any kind unless you change something about the fingers. And I don’t really know all the layers of that yet. But interlacing them seems to be a big deal.”

Garak laughs. “Just a little.”

“What I understood was that if you were to put my hand at your throat and then I did the same, then I’m mostly agreeing with your idea that we might… be significant. But not necessarily saying we are, or will be. Or something.”

“That’s about it, yes.”

There is nothing in Julian’s upbringing about the importance of hands, and it’s only been his time spent with Garak in the last several months that have let him consider that they could be anything significant at all in the context of a relationship, but this does not stop his heart rate from accelerating when he considers actually using anything he’s learned.

This is ridiculous, getting worked up over hands, even after I’ve read all these, seen all those films, and had Garak trying to communicate with me through them since the start.

“So… I know it’s weird to do this sort of thing in the middle of a conversation, but I feel like I ought to make up for all the time I stood there doing nothing because I didn’t understand.” He uncurls his hand from the fist he’d made when he started working himself up over this and tries to project some level of confidence. When Garak looks at him, Julian holds his hand up, smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look as awkward as he feels. Garak only blinks for a second or two, seemingly baffled by Julian’s hand.

I haven’t done it wrong, have I? Fingers together, no awkward slanting… And I’m certain we’re well beyond familiar enough to do this one…