Tincture of Madness
by ysone

Lieutenant Commander Dax drummed her fingers noisily on the table top. Normally a very patient person, her patience was beginning to wear thin. Doctor Julian Bashir was to have met her here for supper forty-five minutes earlier. She had decided twenty minutes ago that he had either forgotten or been detained in the infirmary. Dax smiled to herself. Bashir had not forgotten. Not only was his memory excellent, but a dinner date with her was not something he would take lightly. So, he must have been detained with a problem in the infirmary. But what would take this long?

The Trill drummed her fingers five more minutes before deciding to check it out. She walked the short distance across the Promenade to the infirmary and entered, looking around for the doctor. At first glance, the place appeared deserted, then she caught a flicker of movement in the room beyond. Approaching the closed door, she saw through the transparent panel what had detained Bashir. He, Nurse Jabara, and a medical technician were up to their elbows, literally, in surgery. Bashir had his hands buried deep in a patient's abdomen.

Dax backed up a step. She didn't want to distract him from what he was doing, though, from where she stood, she could see the deep lines of concentration in his face. He probably wouldn't have noticed her if she had been standing right at his elbow.

She stood there for a long time, silently watching Bashir work. He moved with the fluid, graceful movements that came from action without conscious thought. Every few seconds, she saw his lips move and, though she could hear nothing through the door, she could imagine his softly accented voice issuing curt commands that were instantly obeyed.

She felt, rather than heard, someone walk up behind her and turned to see Captain Sisko peering over her shoulder at the scene in the surgical theater.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. I can't see who it is. Did you need to see Julian?"

"Nothing important. Just a pulled muscle."

Dax smiled knowingly. "Let me guess. You and Jake had a late-night ballgame."

Sisko rotated his shoulder with a wince. "I remember a time when I could pitch nine full innings without so much as a twinge."

Dax politely turned back to watch Bashir without commenting. They watched in silence as the doctor removed something long and red from the patient and dropped it into a nearby bowl. Jabara handed him something that looked just like it and Bashir's hands disappeared again into the open abdomen of the patient.

"You know," Sisko said softly, "sometimes I forget just what a skilled physician that young man is."

"I know what you mean. Sometimes, when I'm talking to him, he seems so young and naive, so eager and enthusiastic. Then, I see him like this. Look at him." She watched as he expertly manipulated the object into the position he wanted and turned to issue orders to Jabara. "He's like a different person in there. He's in the world he knows best. There, he's confident, in charge, completely at ease. Not at all the awkward young man that sometimes doesn't know what to say or do in our world."

Sisko studied the doctor for a long moment. "I guess we would be as awkward in his world as he sometimes is in ours."

For twenty minutes more the two watched the action in the room, neither in any hurry to leave. Finally, Bashir pulled his bloody hands from the cavity and turned to a nearby monitor, studying it for a few seconds. A tired smile told them he was pleased with the results. He nodded at Jabara and spoke a short command. She began closing procedures under his supervision. As she finished and set the instruments aside, Bashir removed his blood-soaked gloves and gown. Tossing them aside, he disappeared through a door in the back, returning a few seconds later, drying his hands on a towel. A quick glance at the monitors, and he turned toward the door. It slid open at his approach and he glimpsed the two observers beyond.

Embarrassment replaced the weariness clouding his features. "Dax," he said tiredly, "I'm sorry. I forgot to let you know I wouldn't be able to make dinner."

She smiled reassuringly at him. "It's okay, Julian. I can see you had your hands full."

"What happened?" Sisko asked.

"A Thesian navigator. She came in on that freighter this morning. A couple of hours ago, she came in here complaining with abdominal pains." He stopped suddenly, realizing that they didn't want a play-by-play. "Turns out she needed a liver replacement."

"How is she?" Dax asked with a glance toward the woman in question.

"She'll be fine in a few days." He glanced toward Sisko. "Did you need something, Captain?"

"Pulled muscle," he admitted with an embarrassed gesture at his shoulder.

"Have a seat. I'll check it out." Bashir reached for a scanner as Sisko climbed up to sit on a nearby bio-bed. He aimed the instrument at the captain's shoulder and studied the readings briefly. "Good diagnosis. You want my job?"

Sisko chuckled softly. "Not for all the latinum in the galaxy."

Bashir reached for a hypospray and loaded it with a muscle relaxer. "Don't be so quick to turn down instant wealth. With the proper training, anyone could be a healer." He administered the medicine directly into the sore shoulder and quickly ran the scanner over the area again.

"I hope you don't think we're buying that, Julian," Dax admonished. "In Earth's mid-nineteenth century Henre Frederic Amiel said, 'Doing easily what others find difficult is talent; doing what is impossible for talent is genius'."

Bashir's eyes twinkled as he answered. "And it was Aristotle that said, 'Nullam magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiae fuit'. Which means, 'There was never a great genius without a tincture of madness'." He set the scanner down and turned to Sisko. "Move it a little, Captain, and see how it feels."

Sisko did as he was directed and grinned in relief when the joint didn't complain. "That's great. Thanks."

Bashir walked over to a nearby monitor and flicked it on, then turned back to his commanding officer. "I don't think it will give you anymore trouble, but if it does, just come by and I'll take care of it."

He turned back to the monitor and studied the readings. Dax correctly guessed he was checking on his surgical patient. "Is she stable enough for you to grab something to eat?"

"Probably, but I would prefer to keep an eye on her for a little longer anyhow." He turned back to face her with another embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry. I hope I didn't completely ruin your evening."

Dax walked over and placed her hand reassuringly on his arm. "Not at all, Julian. I admire your dedication. Just promise me you'll get something to eat before you turn in."

"Yes, Mother," Bashir teased.

The door to surgery opened then and Jabara and the technician brought the patient in. Bashir busied himself settling the woman on a bio-bed.

"I guess we should get out of their way," Sisko suggested.

Dax followed him from the infirmary with a concerned glance over her shoulder at Bashir. If she knew him at all, and she liked to think she did, he would spend the rest of the night staring at that monitor, afraid to leave the woman's side for fear of a change. Dedication? Duty? Pig-headedness? What was it that made him sacrifice his own health for that of his patient?

She sighed softly and turned away. That's what made him unique and if he didn't do these things, he wouldn't be Julian Bashir.

* * * * *

Chief Miles O'Brien straightened away from the wall at the sound of footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw the chief of security approaching.

"Hello, Chief," Odo said. "Meeting someone?"

O'Brien smiled a greeting. "Yeah, a Besimi engineer." He glanced down at the data padd in his hand. "Maybe you can help me with her name. I'm having a hell of a time trying to pronounce it."

The shapeshifter took the padd and read over the name, then, read it again. It was a totally unpronounceable combination of letters and symbols.

O'Brien chuckled at the confused look in Odo's eyes and took the padd back. "That's what I thought. I've had the computer pronounce it two dozen times already and I still can't even come close." He sighed with exaggerated frustration. "I hope she's the understanding type."

"Just explain the problem to her and I'm sure she'll be glad to help you out."

"I'm sure you're right, constable." He looked down at the padd again. "You would think with three names at least one would be pronounceable." He switched off the padd and looked back up at Odo. "You here to meet someone?"

Odo snorted. "This is strictly business, I assure you. I make a point of meeting every major transport that arrives on the station. In my line of work, it pays to know who is coming and going."

"I see your point."

At that instant, the computer announced a successful docking and the outer airlock door rolled open. After a few minutes, the inner door clicked loudly and rolled away. The passengers stepped out and began making their way down the corridor.

Odo searched the faces as they passed, making mental notes of each. Most were Bajoran, stopping over on the station before transferring to a ship that would take them to their home planet. The remaining few appeared Human, with the notable exception of two Ferengi. Odo frowned at their backs as they moved away, then, nodding farewell to O'Brien, he turned to follow.

O'Brien stared at the empty airlock. Had he made a mistake? A quick glance at the data padd reassured him. No, the Besimi was scheduled to arrive on this transport and no one had notified him otherwise.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. He looked up to see a dark-haired woman approach the airlock. She hitched her two cases a little higher as she stepped over the rim of the airlock. Stopping in front of O'Brien, she set the cases down and brushed her hair from her face with an impatient flip the hand. She was an attractive enough woman, but with a hard set to her face that made her appear unapproachable. Her tunic was a dull blue, of a simple, though unflattering, cut.

O'Brien took a deep breath and made a miserable attempt to pronounce her name. He suppressed a sigh at the flicker of irritation in her eyes, but forced himself to continue. "I'm Miles O'Brien, Chief of Operations for Deep Space Nine."

She shook the proffered hand with a firmness that surprised him. "Chief O'Brien," she enunciated precisely.

He winced at the admonition in her voice. "I apologize for massacring your name. I just can't seem to wrap my thick tongue around it."

She nodded curtly. "Most Humans have that problem. I wasn't really expecting anyone to meet me. I know that it is very late by station time."

"It's not that late. Besides, it's quite an honor to have such a distinguished engineer with us. I've followed your work on the Ferdins Project. It's most impressive."

The woman accepted the praise without acknowledging it. "It was a long trip, Chief O'Brien."

"Of course. I've made arrangements for quarters." He bent to take her cases, not noticing the small smile that played on her lips as she watched him struggle to lift them. After a minute, he gave up and let them drop back to the floor.

She reached over and easily lifted the heavy equipment. "If you'll just lead the way..."

O'Brien gazed at her in barely concealed astonishment for the briefest of seconds, then turned to guide the way toward the habitat ring.

* * * * *

O'Brien left the Besimi at her quarters and made his way to the Promenade deck. What he needed right now was a stiff drink. He passed the infirmary, headed for Quark's. He stopped, backed up and took another look through the open door. Shaking his head, he stepped inside.

Though the lights were subdued, he could see Julian Bashir sitting at his console, head resting on his folded arms. As O'Brien stepped closer he heard a deep, rhythmic breathing that told him the doctor was sleeping.

A quick glance around the darkened room showed that Bashir was alone except for a patient sleeping on a nearby bio-bed. He looked back at the doctor. Should he wake him? Bashir was evidently tired or he wouldn't have fallen asleep in spite of the drained coffee mug beside his head. But if he continued to sleep in that position, he would have one hell of a crick in his neck when he awoke.

"Julian?"

The doctor jerked erect, instantly awake. "What is it? What's wrong?"

O'Brien chuckled as he pulled a chair close and sat. "Relax, everything's fine. I just figured you'd thank me later for saving you from a stiff neck. Problem patient?"

Bashir glanced at the chronometer. 0013. "Just one that I want to keep an eye on, that's all. Do you have a problem?"

O'Brien snorted. "Not unless you count hard-nosed genius types. Present company excluded, of course."

Bashir threw him a look of mock hurt. "You think I'm hard-nosed?"

"Compared to what's-her-name, you're a down-right social butterfly."

"Ahh! I see you're on a first name basis with the lady."

"Don't even get me started on the woman's name!"

Bashir waited patiently, knowing that O'Brien would get to what was bothering him soon enough. It was a short wait.

"I just met a Besimi engineer that would make a piranha look like a guppy."

"I wouldn't think that would be much of a problem for you. Don't the Irish have a reputation for charming the uncharmable?"

O'Brien shot him a look of mild irritation. "Ordinarily, I'm a very charming man. Ask anyone. But this woman is a real genius in her field. I've been looking forward to meeting her ever since I heard she would be laying over here for a few days. I figured I would have a chance to talk to her one-on-one, learn about the work she's going to be doing on the Camery. But she's very not very friendly."

"It is late, Chief. Maybe she's just tired."

"I guess maybe. It's just that I got a feeling she was barely tolerating me. I suppose it was my fault. I got off on the wrong foot with her by badly mispronouncing her name. I think it offended her. But it was unavoidable. Her name is completely unpronounceable. It doesn't even have any vowels in it."

He handed Bashir the data padd with the name on it. The doctor read the name and glanced up, wondering if O'Brien was finished. He wasn't.

"And strong! The woman could probably bench press me!"

Bashir laughed out loud at the image that sprang to mind. "Aren't you familiar with Besimi?"

At the confused look on O'Brien's face, he continued. "Besimir is a high gravity planet, almost twice that of Earth. I'm sure she could bench press you, and probably me and Commander Worf at the same time. I would advise you to step softly around her. She would make a formidable enemy."

O'Brien finally smiled. "That's advice I can live with. I was on my way to Quark's for a drink. Can you get away?"

"Sorry. I want to keep an eye on my patient. She's still critical."

O'Brien bid the doctor farewell and strode rapidly from the infirmary. Bashir watched with regret as his friend disappeared into Quark's.

A quick glance at the patient's monitor assured him that she was sleeping peacefully. He headed for the replicator. Synthale may be what he wanted but coffee was what he needed.

* * * * *

Most of the senior staff were assembled in the wardroom, waiting the arrival of Doctor Bashir. Small talk filled the room, stopping short when the door slid open and the doctor entered. Dax smiled in sympathy. He had obviously been in the infirmary all night. His eyes were red with weariness, his uniform was slightly rumpled, and he had not shaven.

Sisko looked at him in surprise, his eyebrows raised in question.

Bashir dropped tiredly into a chair before explaining. "Sorry I'm late, sir. There were problems with the Thesian. For some reason that I have yet to determine, her body rejected the replicated liver."

"What are you going to do?" Dax asked.

Bashir sighed deeply. That same question had been plaguing him most of the night and he still had no acceptable answers. "I have her on artificial filterization for now, but I can't keep her there indefinitely. I'm working on an idea for a mechanical filter that may replace her real liver."

Dax stared at him in surprise. "Is that possible?"

"If I can come up with a way to miniturize the bio-filters and make them compatible with Thesian biology. There has been some work on a similar model tailored for a Bolian. The technology is similar enough to maybe be of some help."

"How long do you have?" Sisko asked.

"Four, five days at the most. Thesian biology is very complicated."

"If there's anything any of us can do to help, just let us know," Sisko offered. He pulled his chair a little closer to the table, signifying that the meeting had officially begun. "Let's get started with the status reports. Major?"

Bashir leaned back and relaxed for the first time in hours. He rotated his neck, trying to work out some of the kinks. Already his mind had returned to the problem of manufacturing a workable bio-filter. He tuned out the voice of first Kira, then Commander Worf as they gave their reports. Fifteen minutes later, felling himself beginning to nod off, Bashir forced himself to tune back in to the conversation at hand. He was surprised to see that talk had turned to the visiting Besimi engineer.

"I'm afraid that I offended her as well this morning," Sisko was saying. "I don't think I was even close to the correct pronunciation."

"I'm sure your attempt was better than mine," Kira admitted. "I got the feeling that she has very little tolerance for mistakes. I sure wouldn't want to have to work with her."

"Nevertheless," Sisko said slowly, "I was thinking that maybe we can make it up to her with a reception tonight. Not only will it give her a chance to meet everyone, but if we've gotten off on the wrong foot with her it will give us a chance to redeem ourselves."

Dax nodded agreement. "I think that's a very good idea, Benjamin."

O'Brien frowned.

"Do you see a problem with that, Chief?" Sisko had noticed his expression.

The Irishman suppressed a sigh. "Frankly, sir, Ms...whatever, is not a very friendly person. She's rather cold and distant."

"I got the same impression," Kira observed. "She may not be not be all that receptive to a social gathering in her honor."

"That may be the case," Sisko said, "but she is one of the foremost engineers in the Federation. She'll only be here until the Camery arrives next week. I think we can at least attempt to make her stay here enjoyable."

Bashir listened to the discussion with a frown. "The intellectually gifted are often somewhat socially withdrawn."

Every eye at the table turned to him. He suddenly wished for the words back. Too late now. "As children, they have no peers, often, from necessity, having to associate with adults, who find them immature. They become withdrawn and insecure, feeling as though they don't fit in anywhere. They have very little in common with anyone, leaving little to talk about in a social gathering. If they discuss their work, they are perceived as braggarts. If they discuss anything else they are often inept."

Sisko stared at the doctor in quiet surprise. Was the young man speaking of the Besimi engineer or himself? It was no secret that Bashir had been a child prodigy. Was that what his childhood had been like? It couldn't be easy to grow up knowing you were different, never fitting in. He felt a pang of sympathy for the man. It wasn't much different even now. He had practically nothing in common with anyone on the station. There was no one for him to discuss important parts of his life with. And the few times he tried, he was branded egotistical.

"Have you met the woman?" Kira asked.

"Not yet," Bashir admitted.

"You seem to have pretty good insight into what makes her tick."

"I've had some experience with the type," Bashir replied softly.

"What do you think about the reception?" Dax asked.

"I think it's a good idea," he said without hesitation. "It would probably make her feel welcome."

"It's settled then. I'll talk to . . . " he paused, not willing to make another try at the name, "I'll talk to her. Major, will you make the arrangements? Let us know when and where. I'll expect everyone to attend."

When there were no comments, Sisko stood, signaling an end to the meeting. Bashir headed for the door, but the captain's voice stopped him.

"Doctor," he waited until the door shut behind the others, "I hate to ask you to make an appearance tonight. I know you are busy with this bio-filter project. But I would like for you to meet our guest. You need only stay a few minutes."

"I understand, sir. I'll be there."

* * * * *

Quark hefted the serving tray expertly and wove his way across the room. Kira stopped him and helped herself to a fresh drink. Taking a tentative sip, she found that it was at least palatable. She turned her attention back to the conversation at hand. The Besimi had made an appearance despite their worries. Her attitude, however, left room for improvement.

Dax was attempting to engage the woman in a discussion about her upcoming work on the Camery. She seemed reluctant to discuss it, as if of the opinion no one would comprehend.

Kira suppressed a sigh and joined Sisko, Worf, Odo, and O'Brien in trying to appear interested in the discussion.

* * * * *

Bashir approached the open door with trepidation. He hated social functions. Especially now, when he needed to be elsewhere. He stepped over the lip of the doorway and glanced around. There were far more people here than he had expected to see. He was grateful that he had taken the time to go back to his quarters to shower and change.

He spotted the senior staff with their guest and made his way quickly to them. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could get back to his work.

Sisko smiled at his approach and turned to the Besimi. "I would like to introduce our doctor, Julian Bashir." He hesitated, dreading having to attempt the name again, further offending the woman. To his relief, she came to his rescue.

"Mns^tRVg`fprt Plc^rkB~d rrsm`dv." Her eyes watched the doctor closely, waiting for his reaction. To her surprise and delight the Human smiled in greeting - and repeated the name back to her, flawlessly!

The entire group stared at the doctor in stunned silence. Before they could recover, Bashir continued.

"Plc^rkB~d, isn't that an unusual focus name?"

The Besimi was further surprised, and impressed. "Yes, it is. It is an ancient name, seldom used anymore. It means 'to travel far'."

"It's a lovely name. Unfortunately, as I'm sure you know, it is difficult for Humans to pronounce." He smiled his most charming smile and continued. "The Andorians have a enchanting word that means almost the same thing. It is linthe. Literally translated, it means 'to travel among the heavens'. Perhaps it would be easier if you would allow us to call you Linthe for the duration of your stay."

Sisko sucked in a breath. If the woman was offended by the mispronunciation of her name, how much worse would she react to Bashir's brazen suggestion? He wished the doctor had discussed the idea with him first.

The woman stared at the young man in silence, her face unreadable.

Sisko began to fidget nervously. Was the situation redeemable? He felt compelled to try. "I'm sure that, with practice, we will eventually..."

The woman placed her hand on Sisko's arm, cutting him off. With a smile, she turned to the doctor. "I think that would be an acceptable solution to the problem."

Sisko let out the breath he had been holding and, beside him, heard several of the others do the same.

"How is it you have learned to do what few Humans have successfully achieved?" Linthe asked.

Bashir winked and leaned close. In an exaggerated whisper, he said, "I cheated."

Linthe could not help but smile at his conspiratorial tone. "You cheated?"

Bashir was vaguely aware that everyone within earshot was staring at him, waiting for an explanation. "I had an Besimi friend as a child. He was extremely sensitive about the pronunciation of his name. He broke my arm twice before I realized that it was in my best interest to learn the language."

Linthe laughed out loud at the confession. "It has been observed that we are entirely too temperamental about what others perceive as a minor mistake."

"Yes, and Besimi strength and temper can make for a lethal combination," Bashir said teasingly. "Most Humans don't realize the depth of the offense."

"That's true, I suppose, but tolerance is not an Besimi trait."

Sisko visibly relaxed. Doctor Bashir had managed to accomplish in a few short minutes what the rest of them had failed to do in the previous twenty hours. The woman seemed perfectly at ease for the first time since arriving on the station.

"Captain Sisko mentioned that you are working on a miniaturized bio-filter," Linthe said.

"Yes, as an organ replacement."

"I've heard that some advancement has been made on a similar model by Bolian doctors."

"I've read their studies and found a great deal of useful information." Bashir ran his hand through his hair, showing his frustration. "The problem I keep running into is that the Bolians have much thinner blood than Thesians. Thesians have a third lobe that handles the extra mass. When you miniturize the filters to a point where they are compatible in size, they can no longer effectively handle the filterization."

Linthe pursed her lips in thought. "Is there no room to accommodate a slightly larger scale?"

Bashir shook his head. "Can't do it. Thesian anatomy wouldn't allow for anything of a size to handle the blood mass. The filters would have to be eight percent larger than acceptable."

"How long do you have?"

"No more than four days."

Linthe was silent for a moment. "It is not much time," she said slowly. "But I feel that you are a very determined man. I doubt you will fail."

Bashir smiled ruefully. "I wish I felt as confident."

Deep in their discussion, the two didn't notice the others slip away. They reconvened across the room to voice their surprise at the doctor's diplomatic coup.

"I didn't know he had it in him," Kira remarked, "but I'll admit, I am impressed."

"We shouldn't be surprised," Dax observed. "After all, he was exposed to diplomatic dealings all his life. Some of it had to rub off on him."

"I, for one, am just glad to have something intelligible to call the woman," O'Brien said with an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Did you notice how completely she seemed to change when Bashir correctly pronounced her name?"

"I think she was relieved to find someone that seemed to connect with her," Odo observed.

"There did seem to be an understanding pass between them," Worf agreed.

Kira glanced back toward Bashir and Linthe. They were very intent on whatever they were discussing. "Do you remember how he defended her in the staff meeting this morning? He seemed to have a pretty clear understanding of what drives her."

Dax smiled sadly. "I had the feeling then that he was speaking from personal experience."

Kira looked at the Trill. "You think he feels isolated here?"

"He's bound to. He's stuck down in the infirmary all day, dealing with crisis after crisis. When faced with a major problem, whom does he have to turn to? No one! He has to deal with it alone and find his own solutions."

"And sometimes we forget to include him beyond our medical needs," Sisko admitted.

"It's no wonder he always seems to be trying so hard at everything," O'Brien said.

"There are two ways for someone like him to go," Dax said. "Either they become withdrawn and hardened-- "

"Like Linthe," Kira interrupted.

"Or they go overboard trying to fit in and make everyone think they are normal."

Normal. What a simple thing to wish for. Sisko felt a pang of guilt. How difficult would it be to make a small effort to sometimes include the young man? "At least he has the chance to relax and enjoy himself tonight," Sisko remarked.

* * * * *

Bashir glanced around, suddenly aware that the remaining senior staff had wandered away. He caught Dax's eye across the room and she smiled, raising her glass in salute. He returned the smile.

"It appears we've run off everyone else," he commented lightly.

A flicker of frustration flashed across Linthe's face. "They do not understand us."

"I don't think that's it," Bashir said quickly, trying to forestall another construed insult. "They are just giving us a chance to talk in private." He made a mental note to talk to the others about Besimi sensitivities. They had no idea how rude she found their behavior.

"Do you not find their ignorance intolerable?"

Bashir looked at her in open surprise. "They are no more ignorant of my work than I am of theirs."

"I doubt that is true. You must have at least a working knowledge of all fields in order to be so successful in your chosen one."

Bashir blinked in surprise. What did she know about him?

She correctly read his thoughts. "I make it a point to know something of all the important people I will meet when I travel. You would be surprised how well it has served me in the past. I know, for instance, that you, too, are different. You are considered gifted by others in your field. You could have had any posting you wanted, yet you chose to come here, to work alone. Do you not sometimes feel isolated here, where you have no peers?"

"I have friends here."

"Friends with which you have little in common."

"I suppose that's true." He thought about it for a moment. "There are times when I do wish for someone to discuss my work with, someone that would share my passion and enthusiasm. There is Dax, of course, and Chief O'Brien to a certain extent, but sometimes I get the feeling that they barely tolerate my exuberance."

Linthe nodded. "It is difficult to find someone that can understand both the work and the enthusiasm."

"It's a small sacrifice to make to do what I love."

"For us, and those like us, there is no other choice."

Bashir though he detected a trace of sadness in her voice.

* * * * *

Quark handed his serving tray to a short, fat Ferengi waiter and walked over to the group of senior officers. Without waiting for a pause in the conversation, he interrupted. "Does this mean the reception is over? Because if it is, I'm going to still have to charge you full price for the catering. Of course, any leftovers automatically revert to me. It's in my contract."

"Quark," Odo said with barely restrained indignation, "what are you babbling about?"

"The guest of honor has made her exit, albeit an understated one."

"Linthe is gone?" Sisko glanced around the room, searching for the woman. She was not to be seen. Neither was Bashir.

"She and the doctor beat a retreat just a few minutes ago. I heard him asking her if she wanted to see his work on some kind of filter." He grinned lewdly. "I guess we all know what that means."

Dax frowned at the Ferengi's insinuation. "Julian is very concerned with a gravely ill patient." For some reason she felt the need to defend the doctor's actions. "I'm sure he was anxious to return to his work."

Quark's smirk grew. "Whatever you say."

Kira made a face at his retreating back. "Toad!"

"I guess the party's over," Sisko stated, turning to inform the other guest.

* * * * *

Linthe lay awake in the soft bed for a long time, her eyes closed. Suddenly, a bright smile lit her face and she opened her eyes. A warmth filled her chest, surrounding her heart; a warmth that had never been there before.

She lay very still, afraid the feeling would disappear if she moved. It was too wonderful, too different to want to lose. She felt lighter and happier than she had ever felt before.

Linthe turned to her side and hugged her pillow close, summoning the image of the one responsible for her shift in moods. The handsome face of Julian Bashir filled her mind's eye and she smiled again. His deep brown eyes had been filled with concern and urgency as they had worked together long into the night to find a workable bio-filter, but she had no trouble imagining those same eyes bright and twinkling. His smile, the one he had turned to her when he had so surprisingly pronounced her name at the reception, had been dazzling, bright enough to light up the room and begin chiseling away at the walls she had spent years erecting around her emotions.

Finally, she rolled from the bed and padded softly across the room to the bathroom. She undressed and stepped into the shower. Ten minutes later, she exited and toweled dry. Wrapping the towel tightly around herself, she stood before the mirror and began combing her long dark hair. She stopped and stared at her reflection. What did others see when they looked at her? What did he see?

She turned her head left, then right, studying her face from all angles. It wasn't ugly; in fact, it was sort of attractive. Not beautiful, like the Trill or Bajoran Julian worked with here on the station, but attractive. She glanced at her body and wished, for the first time in her life, that she wasn't so hard and muscular. She wished for the soft curves of a Human woman. The higher gravity of Besimir made her people more compact, muscular. Humans males had fragile egos. They preferred their women not be strong enough to crush their skulls.

Linthe quickly dressed, her mind constantly questioning her emotions. She had never been in love. Is this what it feels like? She had never had the patience to listen to others describe what the emotion. She had made up her mind long ago that it was not for her. She had no time for such nonsense. Or so she had always thought. At last, she had met someone to challenge her set-in-stone ideas.

Had Julian noticed her? He had been charming and attentive last night as they had worked together.

Suddenly, she wanted more than anything for him to notice her in the way she had noticed him. She wanted to impress him. She strode quickly to the computer monitor on the nearby desk. Calling up all available information on micro-filterization, she sat down and began reading. Before this day was done, she would find a way to help him solve his problem - and her own.

* * * * *

Julian Bashir examined the filter in his hand. It was small, barely half the size of his palm, yet much too large to be of any help. It would take at least half-a-dozen filters like this one to successfully conjugate the bilirubin and all six would have to be less than the size of the one in his hand.

He set the filter down and turned back to the patient, automatically making note of her readings. It had been two days since he had placed her on artificial filterization. She was stable so far, but he knew that wouldn't last. In another fifty hours or so the process would begin to break down and the build-up of ammonia and amino acids in the blood stream would cause irreversible brain damage.

Staring intently at the monitor, he didn't hear Linthe enter the room and walk up behind him. He jumped when she spoke.

"No luck yet?"

"Nothing significant," he said with an embarrassed smile. "I've perfected the filter but I've got to find a way to decrease the size another forty-two percent."

Linthe met his eyes and quickly glanced self-consciously away.

Bashir wondered briefly if the Besimi was irritated again. Had someone said something to offend her? He didn't have time to worry about it right now.

Linthe cleared her throat and turned back to face him. "I remembered something this morning that I thought might be of some help. May I?" She gestured toward his computer monitor. When he nodded she called up a display and turned the screen for him to read. "There is a mining colony on Permac IV that processes a rare mineral from the oceans there. When they first began processing the mineral, they found that the existing equipment couldn't handle the heavier mass of the Permac seawater. The solution they found involves some of the same techniques you have been trying to work with on the bio-filter."

Bashir studied the information on the screen. For a long time he said nothing, then, "The technique is similar, but what about the filters themselves?"

She hit a key, bringing up another screen of information. "They ended up constructing the screens from the cell structures found naturally in the Permac oceans. It was the only way to guarantee both the integrity and the function. I'm not sure exactly how this would translate into medical work, but I hoped you would find something here to inspire you."

Bashir continued staring at the screen. They had made the screens from the sea's own substance...His mind was racing ahead five, ten steps. Could it really be that simple?

"Julian?" Linthe prompted.

He had to force his thoughts back to his surroundings. A hopeful smile lit his face. "My only question is: Why hasn't anyone ever tried it before?"

Linthe's confusion showed. "You mean there is something here you can use?"

Bashir placed both hands on her shoulders, excitement brightening his face. "You're brilliant, Linthe, and you may have just saved this woman's life." He dropped his hands and forced himself to calm down. "Of course, I'm just speculating. I have a lot of work to do before I'll know if it will work."

He turned and headed for the lab not even noticing that Linthe followed.

"Could you use some help?" she asked from the doorway.

His smile of relief answered for him. For the first time in two days, he had hope and the Thesian had a chance.

* * * * *

Linthe looked up from her scanner and watched Bashir take a long sip from his coffee mug. It was well past midnight and still he pushed himself on. She had learned from the personnel check she had done before arriving on the station that he was gifted, but until now she had not known the depth of his brilliance.

He returned to his work and she continued to watch him. Completely absorbed in his work, he seemed unaware of her scrutiny. He placed a slide into the scanner and studied the readouts. Linthe liked the way his dark eyes flashed with the intensity of his thoughts.

Bashir suddenly looked up, catching her gaze. Embarrassed, she started to look away, but something in his eyes stopped her.

"It works," he said excitedly. "Come and see."

Linthe walked over and looked into the scanner.

"Do you see it?" Bashir asked. "This is the scale we would have to achieve."

Linthe stared at the readouts for a minute. "It appears to be handling the extra mass effectively," she said cautiously.

Bashir jumped to his feet and began pacing animatedly. Linthe smiled at his enthusiasm. His emotions were always so close to the surface, she thought enviously.

"Of course, I can't be sure until I try it out," he said, as if thinking aloud. "But I can see no reason why it shouldn't work." He paced a minute more, then turned to Linthe, taking her hands in his. "I couldn't have done this without you, Linthe. I hope you know how much I appreciate your help."

Before she could reply, he strode from the room, still talking to himself. "First, I'll have to..."

Linthe found herself alone in the lab. She looked down at her hands. She could still feel his warm touch against her skin. It matched the warmth in her heart at his words. With a sigh of satisfaction, she left the lab to follow him.

* * * * *

Dax studied the readings on the tricorder. Slowly, she looked up and smiled. "I dare say this will bring you more than a little notice from the medical community."

Bashir dismissed the comment with a wave of his hand. "The research was already there, it was simply a matter of wading through it and putting the right parts together." He looked at Linthe and smiled. "I couldn't have done it without Linthe's help."

"Julian is the one that deserves the credit. He's a brilliant doctor."

Dax smiled. "Yes, he is, isn't he?"

Bashir turned to his patient, embarrassed. "The filter is at one hundred percent efficiency." He adjusted settings on the support unit. "If all continues to go well, I'll remove this unit in a few hours and see how she does on her own."

"I think we should celebrate," Dax announced. "How about dinner tonight?" She caught the flicker of irritation on Linthe's face and quickly added, "All of us, of course, and I'll ask some of the others to join us."

"I appreciate the invitation, Dax," Bashir said with a smile that backed up his words. "But, if she's holding her own by tonight, I think I'm going to celebrate with twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep."

Dax noticed for the first time the lines of weariness around Bashir's eyes, the fatigue in his expression. It had been masked with his excitement earlier, but now was beginning to show through. "I'm sorry," she said apologetically. "I forgot how hard you've been working on this. Maybe tomorrow night?"

"Sure, that'll be great," Bashir said gratefully. "I'll be much better company after a good night's sleep." He turned to Linthe. "Is that all right with you?"

"Of course, Julian. I know how tired you are. Tomorrow night will be fine."

"Good. Then I'll make the arrangements and get back to you." Dax reached out and lightly squeezed Bashir's arm. "Congratulations, Julian."

He smiled warmly at her. "Thanks, Jadzia."

Neither of the two noticed the look of irritation on Linthe's face.

* * * * *

Linthe entered the infirmary later that day and looked around for Bashir. He was not to be found but she saw that the Thesian was still sleeping on the back bio-bed. Nurse Jabara hovered over the woman's monitor, keeping close watch on the readings. Linthe walked over.

"How is she?"

Jabara looked up, smiling when she saw Linthe. "Thanks to your help, she's going to make it. The new filters are working at one hundred percent efficiency."

"It wasn't my doing. It was Doctor Bashir's determination that saved her."

Jabara turned back to the monitor. "He is a wonderful doctor, isn't he?"

Linthe heard the pride in the Bajoran's voice and felt a sharp twinge in her chest. "Where is Doctor Bashir?"

"He's at lunch, the replimat, I suppose. Do you want to leave a message for him?"

Linthe shook her head. "No, that's all right. I'll catch him later."

She left the infirmary and turned toward the replimat. She would join him for lunch. He would like that, she was sure. He had come to appreciate her company in the past several days, maybe as much as she appreciated his. Besides, she had good news. She had just learned the Camery would be at least a week late picking her up. Bashir was sure to be pleased by the news.

She rounded the corner of the facility and searched for the doctor. It didn't take long to find him. She took a step forward and stopped suddenly. Bashir wasn't alone. Sitting across from him, talking animatedly, was a young woman in a Starfleet uniform.

Linthe stepped back quickly, before Bashir could see her. She stood, half concealed behind a tall, exotic plant and studied the pair.

From where Linthe stood, the woman appeared Human. She was very beautiful, with short blond hair that swept forward with each movement of her head. She was slender and graceful, everything Linthe was not; a study in contrasts.

Linthe turned her attention to Bashir. He was very attentive to his companion, smiling brightly at everything she said. Linthe bit her lip in anger.

As she watched, the woman reached over and placed her hand possessively on Bashir's arm. There was no mistaking the expression on her face. She was very interested in the doctor. From where Linthe stood, she couldn't see if Bashir returned the sentiment.

Linthe turned angrily and hurried away, unwilling to see anymore. By the time she entered her quarters and locked the door behind herself, her anger had abated. She found herself questioning what she had seen. Maybe there was a logical explanation for their behavior. Maybe...Maybe they were just friends. Bashir was so charming. He must have plenty of friends; of course, some of them would be beautiful women. That didn't mean he was interested in them. He was just being polite. Besides, just because she was interested in him didn't mean he felt the same way.

Linthe pulled her travel case from under a low table and opened the special digital lock she had devised for it. Inside was an assortment of private papers and data chips. She dug through them, pushing them aside to expose the photograph on the bottom of the case. Gently, carefully, she removed the photo and studied it.

It was Bashir, taken shortly after his arrival here on the station. She had copied it from the one in his personnel file. He was not smiling, but she had no trouble imagining the sparkle in his eye despite the flatness of the copy. She wished, not for the first time, that she had a 3-D holopicture.

He was just being polite, she repeated to herself. He wasn't interested in that woman. He couldn't be, he was attracted to her. She was brilliant, a compliment to his own genius. Could that woman offer him stimulating, intelligent conversation? Could she listen attentively as he described his work at the end of a long, tiring day? Linthe laughed out loud at the absurdity of the thought. That woman probably couldn't grasp the basic concepts of a tenth of Bashir's work. He would never be seriously attracted to such a shallow mind. She was just a distraction. If he didn't already know that, he would soon see it.

Linthe smiled. And when he acknowledged it to himself, she, Linthe, would be waiting.

* * * * *

Garak pulled the expanse of silk into place and tacked it down. When he finished, he stepped back and surveyed the results. Not bad, but maybe if there were more pleats...

"Mr. Garak?"

The Cardassian turned at the voice and saw the Besimi engineer Doctor Bashir had been working with. He was somewhat startled to see her here. Her taste in clothing, he noticed with a sharp glance, was not exactly current.

He smiled politely and half-bowed. "At your service, dear lady."

Linthe returned the smile but to Garak's sharp eye, she appeared nervous. "I'm looking for something new. Several somethings in fact."

Garak frowned. What did he have that might fit with her sense of style - or lack thereof?

He suddenly remembered a line of robes and gowns he had assembled for some of his more conservative Bajoran patrons. They were made on very simple, straight lines, with dull, almost boring colors. He detested the garments but, he admitted dolefully, they paid the rent.

He took a few steps across the shop and removed one of the gowns from the rack, spreading it against his arm to display the material. "This lovely gown is spun from the wool of a..."

Linthe interrupted, shaking her head. "No, you don't understand, Mr. Garak." She fingered the plain clothing she wore. "I want to get away from this. I want something attractive."

Garak smiled now in genuine pleasure.

"You don't have to worry about hurting my feelings," Linthe continued. "I know my...tastes...are somewhat unattractive. I want to make some changes. I was told this is the place to start."

"You were told correctly, my dear woman." He replaced the gown and indicated a rack of brightly colored garments to his left. "I can supply almost any design you desire. If I don't have it, I'll make it. Why don't you explain to me what kind of changes you would like to make and I'll see what I can do."

Linthe chewed on her bottom lip for a few seconds. "I want something more stylish, something maybe...flattering."

"I know just what you want." Garak removed a dress in a soft shade of green. It was much shorter than what Linthe now wore and made of a material that promised to cling tightly to the figure.

"It's...lovely," Linthe said, "but that may be a bit too much of a change."

"Nonsense! This will look charming on you. The color will draw out your eyes and the cut is perfect for your frame." He forced the dress into her hands and gave her a gentle push toward the dressing room. "Once you slip into it, I'm sure you'll fall in love with the transformation."

Garak pulled the door of the changing room closed behind the Besimi. This would be an easy sale. He was sure she would be pleased with the dress. It would do wonders for her appearance. She wasn't unattractive, his trained eye had noticed, but she obviously didn't know how to show this off. He selected a few more garments, both formal and casual.

After a few minutes, the door opened and Linthe stepped timidly out. Garak's smile returned. "What did I tell you? The style is very flattering and the color is perfect for you."

Linthe surveyed her image in the floor length mirror. Garak watched from a short distance away. The dress clung tightly where it should, but was not too revealing. The Besimi was compact and very muscular, surprising Garak. There was nothing delicate or graceful about her but, in the dress, she was still feminine.

"Are you sure this is stylish?" Linthe asked pulling at the hem of the garment.

"The very latest thing, I assure you, as are these." He held up the garments in his hand, "Perhaps, if you are pleased with my first choice, you would like to try these as well."

Linthe tried on the outfits, smiling wider with each selection. Garak watched in amusement each time she stepped before the mirror to view the results. It was amazing how drastically her appearance had altered.

Garak gathered the woman's final selections and prepared to pack them, pleased with himself for the large sale.

"Now, Mr. Garak," Linthe said, "I would like to complete my transformation. If you could recommend a place where I could get some help with my hair and make-up..."

* * * * *

Bashir sounded the door chime at Linthe's quarters. For a long moment, there was no answer and he wondered if he had misunderstood her request that he come by for her on his way to the dinner. Actually, he was hoping he had misunderstood. Linthe had been a tremendous help to him in his work on the bio-filter, he admitted, but beyond that, she was becoming somewhat suffocating. She spent every free moment at the infirmary. Her attention was becoming uncomfortable.

Finally, the door slid aside and Linthe stepped out. Bashir stared in barely restrained astonishment.

Linthe was wearing a gown of a soft blue that hung in delicate folds to the floor. It was of a material that caught and subtly reflected the light. It was totally unlike anything he had seen her in before. The transformation was completed by a shorter haircut that framed her face in a flattering style. The total effect was stunning.

"You look very nice," was all he could think of to say. Apparently, it was the right comment. Linthe's face lit up in a pleased smile.

"I'm afraid I was long over due for an update. I've been so busy the past few years that I haven't really had the time or energy to pursue styles. I've decided to turn my layover here into a mini-vacation."

Bashir returned the smile. "I think there will be more than a few heads turned tonight. Are you ready?"

At her nod, Bashir led the way down the corridor toward Captain Sisko's quarters. Dax had managed to talk the captain into preparing his famous Creole gumbo for the celebration. Of course, it probably hadn't taken much convincing. The captain loved to cook and was probably pleased to have another chance to show off his skills.

The door to the captain's quarters slid open at their approach and the sound of laughter floated out to greet them. They were met at the door by Dax, handing out drinks. The Trill took one look at Linthe and stopped short. Her face betrayed her surprise.

"What a beautiful dress, Linthe," Dax commented. "You look terrific."

Bashir caught his friend's eye and made a silent plea that he hoped she would understand. After a short look of confusion, Dax smiled and turned back to Linthe. Taking the woman's arm, she led her across the room, her voice drifting back to Bashir. "Benjamin has outdone himself this time. You really have to taste this..."

Bashir breathed a sigh of relief and headed for the closest chair. He dropped into it and watched Dax maneuver Linthe to the table. Maybe he was overreacting; maybe he had misread the situation. Linthe's attentions could be perfectly innocent. He frowned into his drink. Hopefully, that was all it was. He would really hate to hurt the woman's feelings.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," O'Brien said, sitting on the sofa across from Julian, "but isn't this suppose to be a celebration?"

"Excuse me?" Bashir was unsure what his friend meant.

"You don't look like a man that has something to celebrate."

Bashir smiled. "Sorry. I was just thinking about a potential problem."

"Medical?"

"No," Bashir shook his head. "It's probably just my imagination." He glanced around. Sisko had joined Dax and Linthe and appeared to be explaining something about one of the dishes to the Besimi.

O'Brien followed his gaze. "Linthe looks great. I wonder why the sudden transformation?"

"I'd say there was a man in the picture," said Kira, dropping down on the sofa beside O'Brien.

Bashir shot the Bajoran a frown.

"You?!" she laughed.

"I'm not sure," Bashir's frown deepened. "It just seems that every time I turn around lately, there she is."

"Maybe she's just bored," O'Brien commented. "With the Camery running late, she doesn't have a lot to keep her busy."

"She could follow you around," Bashir shot back. "She is an engineer, after all. Your work should be a lot more interesting to her."

O'Brien laughed.

"No, it's definitely a crush," Kira observed. "Look at her. No woman would make that big a change unless there was a man involved."

Bashir sat back, annoyed. "I don't know why you two are finding this so amusing."

Both Kira and O'Brien laughed at his expression.

"Maybe because it holds a certain element of deja vu," O'Brien said.

Kira struggled to control her voice. "Just ignore her and she'll soon give up. It worked for Jadzia and a certain junior lieutenant."

Mimicking Kira's mocking tone, O'Brien said, "I think you had better let her down gently, though. You know what they say about a woman scorned, and with that strength..."

Julian snorted derisively and headed for the replicator to freshen his drink. He could hear the two laughing behind him.

* * * * *

The dinner proved to be as uncomfortable as Bashir had feared it would be. After Dax's initial attempt to draw Linthe away, the Besimi woman had practically attached herself to him. While he did find her interesting to talk to, the constant attention was beginning to annoy him.

Bashir excused himself early, hoping to make a getaway without Linthe, but before he rounded the first corner, he heard her call his name. Suppressing a cringe, he turned and waited until she caught up.

"I thought I would make an early night of it, too," she explained. "If you don't mind, I'll walk with you as far as your quarters."

Unable to think of an excuse to turn her down, Julian nodded and led the way.

"You're friends seem to be proud of you even though it's obvious that they don't understand the significance of your discovery."

Bashir frowned inwardly. "It wouldn't be fair to expect them to. Medicine is not their field."

"It would be nice if they would at least try. You're a brilliant doctor, but you are under-appreciated here. Have you ever considered transferring to another posting where your achievements wouldn't be taken for granted?"

"I requested this posting," he attempted to explain. "This is where I want to be."

Linthe lifted her hands in a gesture of incomprehension. "For the life of me, I can't imagine why!"

"I love my work here. Everyday, I'm challenged to learn something new just to break even. Here, I'm in charge; I don't have to spend years doing scud work for more experienced doctors."

They reached Bashir's door and stopped. He turned to Linthe, unsure exactly how to say goodnight without sounding like he was dismissing her.

She looked up and met his gaze. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes. If he had had any doubt before, he was sure of her interest now. Somehow he had to set her straight without hurting her feelings. Before he could decide what to do, Linthe stepped forward and reached up to kiss him. He was completely caught off guard by the movement. It was the last thing he had expected. It took him a moment to react.

Gently, he pulled out of her embrace and stepped back. "Linthe..." he began uncertainly.

The woman smiled shyly up at him. "I know. I'm as surprised as you are, Julian. But, surely, you have felt the pull as strongly as I have. There's something between us that we have to acknowledge."

Bashir took a deep breath and tried again. "Linthe, if I have given you any reason to believe that, I'm sorry." He saw the hurt in her eyes and hurried to add, "You are a beautiful woman, and you're brilliant. If I were looking for someone right now, believe me, I would be interested. But there is so much going on in my life lately. I just don't have time for an involvement of this kind."

Linthe stepped back, her gaze never leaving his face. Bashir cringed inwardly at the anger and pain he saw there. He opened his mouth to try again. Before he could speak, Linthe turned and hurried down the corridor toward her quarters. Bashir considered following, but quickly decided against it. What more could he say?

He entered his quarters and prepared for bed. Had he sent signals that he was interested in a relationship? Maybe, without realizing it, he had encouraged her feelings.

Bashir lowered the lights and settled into bed with a sigh. Tomorrow, he would have to have a talk with Linthe.

* * * * *

Linthe threw the sculpture across the room, enjoying the feeling of pleasure it gave her as it crashed into the wall, leaving a dent in the smooth metal. The pleasure did little to abate the anger burning through her.

. . . don't have time for an involvement . . .

Then, why was he spending so much time with that Starfleet woman?

If I were looking for someone . . .

Of course, he wasn't looking for someone. Why should he when he already had that woman?

Linthe retrieved the heavy metal statue. Wrapping her muscular hands around the smooth metal base of the sculpture, she closed her eyes and imagined that it was her, the one that had spoiled her carefully worked plans. The fantasy brought her pleasure, great pleasure.

Linthe opened her eyes, focusing on the statue in her hands. Slowly, she smiled; a cruel, twisted grin that would have sent shivers up the spine of anyone unlucky enough to have witnessed it. Changing quickly, Linthe took one last look at the dented statue and left the room.

* * * * *