A Collection of Julian Bashir One-Shots

Finally Requited

Summary: You and Julian are sharing quarters while you participate in an exchange program on a Vulcan ship. You discuss your issues acclimating to the new ship, as well as your history together on Deep Space Nine.

***

"Dammit... dammit, dammit dammit!" I hissed. Julian looked at me with an almost bemused expression.

"Sounds like your experiment is going well," he murmured, sarcastically, before shifting his eyes back to the report he was working on. I swiveled my chair around and looked at him sourly.

We'd each been selected for spots on the Vulcan exchange program, and he seemed to be having an easier go of it than I was. Some of their systems were a bit alien to me, and I'd been making the effort to adjust some of the sensitivity on their touchscreens so that I could better control them. So far, all of my efforts had been met with a blockade in the code—and Julian seemed to be tired of my frustrated outbursts when that happened.

"You can go work on that in the mess hall if you need to," I mumbled, a pout on my lips.

"I could, but I'd rather work in my quarters," he responded. I sighed, a little guilty. We were sharing quarters, and I wasn't being the best roommate.

"... Right. Sorry, I guess I'll give it up. I'm just... a little frustrated. It's not very respectful of me to be like this," I said softly. Julian hummed absentmindedly, and I watched his face for a moment, hoping for some sort of response. Already disinterested, it seemed. When I didn't get one, I settled back into my chair grumpily and crossed my arms so that I could properly sulk. I was pissed with the failures of my efforts—and I was also a little miffed with Julian.

His eyes briefly flickered up from his report after a few minutes of my brooding posture, and at first he seemed to think nothing of it, as he began to refocus on the PADD. But then, slowly, some curiosity seemed to register on his face. He carefully placed the PADD aside and put down his cup of tea, training his eyes on me.

"I know... it's been a little tough sharing quarters," he said softly.

"It's not just that," I said quickly, jumping on the first opportunity to express my frustrations that I could. "The whole ship. It's nothing like DS9."

"Well—that's sort of the point, isn't it?" Julian asked. A reasonable chuckle swelled in his stomach. I sighed.

"You're right. I'm just..." I trailed off, biting my tongue. Maybe I shouldn't say it.

"You're just what?" Julian asked softly. I shook my head.

"I'm a little scared, that I'm... not up to it," I admitted. "You seem so at home here, what with your genetic modification and all that. I'm just afraid that I'm a little too..." I trailed off.

"Too..." Julian said, pushing me to explain myself, and I sighed.

"Human," I admitted. "I'm too human. I'm inefficient, and imperfect, and... too emotional. What would the Stoics think?"

"Stoics?" Julian mused. "Now why would you care what Ancient Greek philosophers have to say about your emotions?"

"Because it's very similar to the Vulcans' philosophy, isn't it? I studied the Stoics a bit before coming here, as part of the recommended reading in preparation. Yet it feels like I've thrown it all out."

"I see," Julian murmured.

"What would they say about my—" I stopped for a moment, struggling for the right word, before it came to mind. "Ineptitude?"