I like how Bashir's mind seems to turn everything - even important self-deliberation - into a form of fantasy. Or maybe that's too harsh a word. But he likes to craft
everything, spin it into a narrative, into something more meaningful. He "plays" his conscience as Ezri and the harsh, manipulative yet practical understanding as Sloan...I guess without realizing what he's doing. And I loved the "how quaint" note on the pillowcase...even when being completely serious he's still playing with his narrative.
It's a really interesting mix of genuine dilemna/tension and a strange, almost calculating ease with his situation. Very Bashir. I really think you have a good take on how a genetically augmented, somewhat
childish but formidable intellect might work. t really does seem like Bashir - I can so easily picture the character when you write him.