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If anyone were to ask, Garak wound say it is a perfectly laid plan. He studied Julian Bashir, found every record available, listened in on conversations about him. By the time he sits across from him, he will know every aspect of his history and his personality. He will play the naive Starfleet doctor like an instrument.
He doubts anyone will ask him, because most who would bother to think to ask will have already assumed that it's the truth.
And yet...
Garak sits across from Dr. Julian Bashir. Bashir does not always come to the replimat for lunch, but he does often enough that Garak only had to wait two days for him to appear again. He doesn't know where Bashir ate lunch on the two previous days. Perhaps Quark's or the Klingon restaurant, but Garak did not seek him out.
If anyone were to ask, he would say that the best hunters do not chase their prey.
The doctor is all nerves but is unafraid when Garak speaks to him. His interest is not malevolent or sadistic, which is refreshing in a way that even Garak himself cannot think too much about because the endorphins in his system won't allow him to dwell on how long it's been since anyone, anyone looked at him that way.
(Has anyone ever really looked at him that way?)
When he leaves after only a few sentences exchanged between them, that is part of the plan. It is part of the plan when he stops himself from simply walking away, and he stands behind the doctor. It is part of the plan when he places his hand on the doctor's shoulder and calls him an interesting new friend.
He leaves the replimat and does not pause until he reaches his shop.
The lights are dim there, and the temperature is warm, and if he were to close his eyes, he might imagine for a moment that he is still on a Cardassian station. And usually, that is what he would do. This time, instead, he turns back to look out at the Promenade. The lights and the colors and the people are too bright and noisy and garish.
But from his shop, he sees the Dr. Julian Bashir dart out of the Replimat, a smile plastered on his face, and Garak wonders where he's heading, what he's thinking. He wonders what a Human feels when they have met someone who moves them, and he wonders if that is what the doctor is feeling. If a Human feels anything like a Cardassian feels in such a moment, he must feel exhilarated and jittery and already thinking of what their next meeting will be like. And the next. And the next...
A chirping monitor breaks Garak's concentration. He receives a message from one of his old contacts that a Bajoran terrorist will soon be approaching the station with the intention of seeking sanctuary.
Garak smiles.
Timelines are such fluid things, and memories can be fickle.
If anyone were to ask, Garak would say that he was alerted to this situation before he sat across from Dr. Julian Bashir. He would say it was a plan, and that the doctor was idealistic and naive and so, so easy to manipulate. He would not say that it was because he was alone on the station, and the doctor was intriguing, and he thought maybe they could know each other. That maybe he could find something in the universe worth holding onto while he was trapped in exile.
If anyone were to ask, Garak would say that the doctor was nothing to him.
And yet...