Disclaimer: Star
Trek was created by Gene Roddenberry and is owned by Paramount Pictures
I make no
monetary profit from my fanfic
Summary: Garak is taking it
rough after Ziyal's death
Author's Note: Set shortly
after "Sacrifice of Angels."
Rated PG
~~~~~~
STAR
TREK DEEP SPACE NINE
DROP
STITCH
"The plan is,"
Sisko said to the image of Admiral Matt Reid, "to flood the wormhole with
axalon particles. We've found them to have a detrimental effect on Jem'Hadar
ships, but will not have any effect on the wormhole entities."
Reid nodded. "Sounds too
good to be true."
"We almost thought it
was, Admiral," Kira said. "Bajor fully supports the operation."
The Admiral nodded and then
his brow furrowed. "Uhh, Captain ... your Uniform's ripping ..."
Benjamin blinked and looked
down. "Sisko out." He stared at his exposed midsection.
Kira's face showed a mixture
of shock and amusement.
"Garak," Sisko
said, calmly. "I'm going to kill him."
* * *
Early morning, on the
Promenade, Garak's shop, a bustle of angry customers, the Cardassian
desperately trying to quiet the mob.
"My pants don't
fit!"
"My dress is too
long!"
"My galabaya's seem
ripped!"
"My toga's too
short!"
"People, please!"
Garak exclaimed, exasperated. "One at a time. "I'm sorry for the
inconvenience. I haven't been feeling all that well lately..."
"My dress tore,"
Leeta scowled, "and I wanted to surprise Rom last night ..."
"I can assure you, I'll
refund you all ... and fix the mistakes..."
"Maybe we should find
another tailor," one of the Bajorans snapped.
"Really, that's not
necessary," Garak assured, feeling like he'd been stuck with an old style
needle. He leant on his counter, as if for support.
"Garak!"
The blood drained from the
Cardassian's face as he recognised the angry voice. "Oh no..."
"Oh no is right! Look at
this!"
Garak tried not to look at
the gaping hole in Sisko's uniform.
"If you've come to
complain, Captain, I'm afraid you'll have to join the back of the que."
"Dammit, Garak! I was
making a proposal to Admiral Reid at Starfleet command when this
happened."
"I'm sure he didn't
notice a thing."
"He's the one who
pointed it out to me."
"Oh ... I apologise
profusely, Captain ... I'll fix it."
"Damned right you
will!"
Garak headed for the change
rooms.
"Oh no, you're not
getting away that easily." Sisko stormed after him, amidst complaining
customers.
Garak backed off. "You
don't know how hard it is!" he hissed, his eyes conveying his pain.
"I've nowhere to go, and now ... and now it appears I can't even be a
simple tailor anymore..."
Garak shook his head to a now
confused Sisko. The Cardassian blinked. Why did the Captain have three heads?
And why did his other customers sound like a pack of howling Targs chasing a
bitch on heat? Garak backed off a little, almost tripping over a pile of
material, grabbing a curtain as he collapsed to the floor.
Sisko stared wide eyed and
bashed his combadge. "Sisko to Bashir! Medical emergency, Garak's
shop!"
Forgetting his worse for wear
uniform, Sisko knelt beside Garak, the other customers' anger, changing to
concern.
* * *
"Am I dead?"
"Sorry to disappoint
you, Garak."
The Cardassian smiled at the
familiar voice, blinked a few times before opening his eyes to see Doctor
Bashir hovering over him with a medical tricorder.
"What happened?"
"As far as I can tell,
you're famished, your stress levels are higher than the stakes at Quark's, and
you haven't slept in days."
"I never really realised
how hungry I was ... As for the sleep, I think I can scare up some, but I left
a lot of angry customers back there, including Captain Sisko, who was most
displeased about-"
"I know, I saw it."
Bashir tried very badly to hold back a smile.
"Well I must be getting
back to work. Hems of the Universe await."
Bashir pushed Garak back
down. "You're not escaping my clutches that easily and besides Keiko and
Rom have offered to help out in the meantime."
"That's very nice, I
must thank them."
"Not until you're
rested."
"Is that an order,
Doctor?"
"Yes."
"In that case, who am I
to argue with the great Julian Bashir?"
The Doctor smiled.
"Okay, so I'll rest. I
do need some after all."
"You also suffered a
mild concussion," Bashir said. "Your head hit the wall when you
fell."
Garak nodded. "Felt like
I was clobbered. Pain's gone now."
"Is it?" Bashir
sounded unconvinced. "I can heal bruises and broken bones, Garak, but even
a genetically enhanced brain can't heal a broken heart."
Garak stared at him.
"We all miss Ziyal ...
and you loved her deeply ... and you talk in your sleep."
He nodded slowly. "And
as usual, I buried myself deeper and deeper into my work."
"I know ... and I'm
afraid nothing in my med kit is going to help you."
Garak gave as ad smile.
"I don't expect it to, Doctor and please don't suggest a counsellor."
Bashir shook his head.
"Time is the only thing that can heal grief."
"But how much time,
Doctor?"
"That, Garak, depends on
you, but for now, I prescribe rest, relaxation and a hot bubblebath."
"Doctor's orders?"
"Absolutely. And I'll
even lend you Kukalaka."
Garak managed s smile.
"Thank you, Doctor, I know how much he means to you, but I have
Kathyana."
"Kathyana?"
Garak gave an embarrassed
smile. "She's been my companion ever since I was five ... My father gave
me money for groceries one day ... I saw her in a shop window and couldn't
resist ... I hid her when I came home and told my father I'd lost the money. Of
course he gave me a beating I'd never forget - I have the scar to this day, but
she was well worth it." Garak smirked. "He never found out about her
either ... or at least I don't think he did..."
Bashir smiled. "What
exactly is Kathyana?"
"She's an Eyoria, a
mythical Cardassian creature, much like your unicorns, but fluffier and with
bushier mains and tails, said to live in the ancient hills ... I always dreamt
I would ride one one day."
"She sounds
lovely," Bashir said with a smile.
"She is," Garak
said. "And if the Cardassian government ever found out how many secrets
she knows, well..."
Bashir smiled again.
"Come to think of it,
she's due for a wash."
"So is Kuky, actually.
He was my first patient, you know."
Garak smiled and nodded.
"I've fixed Kathy more times than I care to count. How do you think I
became such a good tailor?"
Bashir chuckled. "Now,
Elim Garak, off to your quarters to rest."
"Believe me, Doctor, you
won't get me in there fast enough."
Garak slid off the bed.
"Although I must collect my sewing kit. Kathyana's in need of
stitches."
"Well don't be too
long."
"I'll be in bed before
you know it."
"Don't make me check up
of you."
"My, My, Doctor, you're
too suspicious."
"With you? Always."
Garak smiled. "You never
disappoint me, Doctor."
Bashir failed to hold back a
smile as he watched his Cardassian patient exit sickbay.
* * *
Gul Dukat sat in his cell,
awaiting extradition, but he didn't plan to be extradited just yet. There was
one thing left to do. Of course he knew he wouldn't get away with it, but then
escape wasn't his plan. He ignored the disdainful look of the Starfleet
security guard and tried to quash the excruciating pain, stabbing and twisting
his heart, like a Klingon dagger. Ziyal's death would not go unavenged.
From underneath the top of
his uniform, Dukat pulled a small phaser scalpel and edged toward the corner of
the forcefield. When the guard turned his back for a moment, he activated the
tool and coughed loudly to mask the sound of the forcefield shutting down.
"I don't suppose you
have anything for a sore throat?" he asked.
"You'll get more than
that when we're done with you, Dukat."
"Such hatred ... It
isn't healthy you know."
The guard turned his back and
Dukat made his move, holding the smaller man in a headlock and wrenching his
phaser free, before smashing him in the face with his fist and pushing his
unconscious body over the console and left the scene.
* * *
Garak had tidied a few things
in his shop and made a mental note to do a more thorough job when he was
better. He began to close his doors, with a sign he'd written.
'Due to strenuous circumstances,
this shop will be closed for
the
next few days. Please take
urgent
alterations to Mrs. O'Brien
or Rom.
Apologies for the
inconvenience,
your faithful Tailor, Garak.'
"Are you all right,
Mister Garak?"
The Cardassian turned, looked
down and smiled. "Hello, Lila."
She smiled back to him.
"You remembered my name."
"How could I forget my
favorite customer, with the prettiest dress on the Promenade?"
Lila smiled. "I made you
some toasted hasperat."
She handed him the burnt
offering, two parcels of the Bajoran dish. "Sorry ... left it in too long
..."
Garak smiled. "I'm sure
it'll taste lovely."
The Cardassian didn't let on
exactly how touched he was by the five year old Bajoran's thoughtfulness. He took
it and placed it on his counter.
"I promise I'll fix your
dress when I'm back in business"
"It's okay, Rom did it,
but I like the way you sew better."
"Really?"
Lila smiled and hugged him.
It never ceased to amaze Garak how unconditionally loving children could be.
"I hope you get better
soon. You're going to be all right, aren't you?"
Garak gave a reassuring
smile. "I'll be fine. just need some rest, that's all."
Lila smiled. "That's
good. You're the best tailor in the Universe, Mister Garak."
Garak smiled. "Thank
you," he said, hoping she understood his sincerity. "Run along now,
you don't want your parents to worry."
Lila nodded and smiled.
"Enjoy your hasperat."
"I will."
He smiled as he watched the
girl skip off down the Promenade, trailing, Mufisa, her beloved rag doll behind
her, the one she'd once brought to Garak, in tears, to fix and was ecstatic to
have her back - with no evidence her head and arm had almost been torn off.
Garak wondered if she'd still have the doll when she was his age. He turned to
gather his sewing device.
"GARAK!!!!"
The Cardassian's head snapped
up, all the blood draining from his face, as his new arrival burst into his
store, mad as a rabid Targ, and Garak doubted it was about mal hemmed trousers.
"I'm sorry, but I'm
closed until further notice. I trust you read the-"
"I'm not in the mood for
humour, Garak!" Dukat spat.
Garak was forced to stare at
the Starfleet issue phaser pointing right at his midsection. "Don't bother
calling security ... I should have done this a long time ago ... Though before
I kill you, Garak," Dukat paused, his eyes flinching angrily when his
rival wouldn't give him the satisfaction of showing fear, "just tell me
one thing - did you have sex with my daughter?"
It was more an accusation
than a question.
Garak stared at his intruder.
"I should think that's a highly personal question," he said, his
anger rising, but he carefully kept it in check.
"I'm the one holding the
phaser here, Garak."
"Yes, I noticed
that."
"Well did you or didn't
you?"
"Will it make a
difference what I say? If I say 'no' you'll assume it's yes and shoot me, if I
say yes, you'll shoot me and if I don't say anything, you'll assume it's yes
and shoot me anyway. So before you do vaporise me, do you want the truth?"
Dukat managed a smile through
his troubled, angry features.
"Despite your
misgivings, Dukat, Ziyal and I cared for each other very much." Garak
paused, knowing Dukat may fire at any moment and the only weapon he had was his
sewing machine. "I never knew why she loved me."
"That makes two of
us."
Garak ignored the insult and
continued. "Ziyal was a very special person."
Dukat nodded sadly.
"... And I loved her
very much. To answer your question ... We were intimate in a holosuite once,
but," Garak spoke quickly to avoid being phasered before he finished,
"we didn't go that far. We both believed it was too soon, so the answer is
no."
"But you wanted
to."
"We both did, but rest
assured, Dukat, I would never have done anything without her consent."
"Don't ask me why,
Garak, but I believe you." He looked into the other' eyes. "You
really did love her, didn't you?"
Garak nodded sadly.
"Well that's one thing
we agree on. She was a remarkable woman."
"That she was,"
Garak said with a sad, reminiscent smile.
Dukat backed off, realising
Garak could have gone for the phaser.
* * *
"Odo to Ops ... Gul
Dukat's loose on the station with a phaser ... I've sent a security detail. So
far he hasn't caused any havoc."
"I can activate a
forcefield around Ops," Dax said.
"I wouldn't recommend
that," Odo said. "Given Dukat's current state of mind, we don't want
to spook him and start a station-wide panic."
"Agreed," Sisko
said, in his spare uniform. "Keep me informed."
"I intend to. Odo
out."
* * *
"So get it over and done
with," Garak said. "All this waiting is getting to me."
Dukat looked at the other
Cardassian in surprise.
"Well it's not as if I
can stop you ... and you're hardly going to have a change of heart and what
have I got to lose? My sewing kit?"
The last words came out more
emotional than Garak would have liked. Nevertheless, Dukat looked impressed.
"I can't shoot you,
Garak."
Now it was Garak's turn to
look surprised.
"The bloody power cell's
dead."
Dukat started to laugh as he
showed Garak the dead phaser and Garak couldn't help but chuckle.
"What sort of a
Starfleet officer carries a defunct phaser?" Dukat asked himself.
"Probably forgot to
charge it ... Must be my lucky day."
"Must be." Dukat
eyed him, the Cardassian tailor/spy wondering if the phaser had been fully
charged, if he'd still be standing.
"I'll be grateful if you
kept this between us."
Garak smiled. "It won't
leave this shop. Believe me, I've made my own share of embarrassing
mistakes."
"I could use a
raktajino."
"You hate coffee,"
Garak said.
"That doesn't stop me
from needing one."
Garak smiled.
"Security'll be here soon, if I know Odo ... Well before they drag you
off, I have something you may like."
Dukat hoped Garak didn't see
him flinch.
"Don't worry,"
Garak said. "I left my disruptor at home today." From his drawer, he
pulled out a medium, round, framed cross stitch. "Done by hand," he
said, "every stitch. I... started it the day ... the day after she was
killed. It helped me deal with her loss..."
Dukat almost dropped his
kaput phaser. "It's ... it's beautiful ..." he said, in spite
of himself, too overwhelmed to be embarrassed by his inability to hide his
emotions. "You captured her likeness so ... wonderfully ... and she did so
love that purple dress." Dukat kept tears back with a vengeance.
Garak gave a sad smile.
"I know, I repaired it for her once."
Dukat stifled a small smile
and looked into the other's eyes, empathising with his pain. "Are you sure
you want me to have it?"
Garak gave a nod. "I can
make another ... She's your daughter and you couldn't sew if your life depended
on it."
Dukat chuckled. "True
... It's so hard ... Not just Ziyal ... everything..."
"I know ..." Garak
said. "And I'll tell you something else that's hard. French knots, by
hand."
Dukat gave a small smile.
"I was never good with my hands... That's a nice one," he said,
pointing to a light blue-green mesh dress.
Garak gave a sad smile as he
held it up. "I made it for her, you know ... I keep telling myself, the
right woman will come for it, but it seems so lonely without her."
"I know how it feels,
believe me ... It would have looked beautiful on her ... You really are quite a
tailor."
Garak smiled. "Everyone
has their own hidden talents."
"Did you see Ziyal's
paintings?"
Garak nodded. "They were
so emotive ... A shame she didn't have more time to express her
creativity."
Dukat nodded sadly.
"Those are all that's left of her..."
"Those and
memories."
"I came here to kill you
... and now we're talking like old friends ... Damn you, Garak."
"My pleasure."
"Drop the phaser,
Dukat!"
He knew they were coming, but
still jerked at the sudden intrusion.
"It's all right,
gentlemen," Garak said. "I assure you, the situation is under
control. The last thing I want is a team of trigger happy security officers
tearing up my shop."
Dukat gave the phaser to Odo.
"Come along,
Dukat," the Changeling said.
The tall Cardassian offered
no protest, clutching possessively, his tapestry of Ziyal as he was lead away
by the security team.
"You're lucky Rodriguez
forgot to charge his phaser..."
"Thank him for me, will
you?"
"After he's
reprimanded."
"Of course."
"So ... do you believe
Dukat would have killed you?"
"Honestly, Odo, in his
state of mind, I had no idea. As much as I despise him, I can't help feeling
sorry for him."
Odo gave a characteristic
grunt. "The death of a loved one is never an easy thing to live with ...
and often brings rivals closer together."
"Perhaps," Garak
said.
"Care to place charges
against Dukat?"
"I think he has enough
on his plate for now."
"Very well ... This
won't happen again," Odo assured.
"I certainly hope
not."
The Changeling turned to
leave.
"Odo, don't let it get
to you. Dukat's resourceful to say the least."
Odo gave a nod, then left for
his office to file a report.
Alone again in his shop,
Garak let out a breath.
"Now there's an
experience I'd rather not have to go through again."
He noticed his burnt hasperat
on his counter and hadn't realised how hungry he was. He picked up his plate
and sewing kit.
"Computer, lights."
Obediently, Garak's shop went
dark as he closed the door.
"Don't worry, I'll be
back," he assured.
The Cardassian left for his
quarters.
* * *
Tucked in by starlight,
blanketed by space, Deep Space Nine, rotated slowly.
In a steaming bath, Garak
scrubbed his body with a vengeance, before lathering and washing his hair, then
shook his wet head, droplets of water flying.
"That feels so much
better ..." he said to himself. "I can't remember the last time I had
a real bath ... Too used to sonic showers ... Now ... c'mere, you ..."
He grabbed a plush unicorn
like toy and dunked her in the bath, and proceeded to wash her, scrubbing her
vigorously, though affectionately with the soap.
"My..." he
exclaimed, seeing the grey lather emerging from her. "You really do need a
wash ... I'd forgotten how shiny your fur is ... Sorry if I've seemed to have
neglected you, My Dear ... I've had a lot on my mind ..."
Kathyana didn't seem to mind,
as Garak gently squeezed her body, until the lather was white and the water ran
clear.
"I never regret the day
I bought you, M'Lady."
He smiled, and emptied his
bath.
"Begin sonic dry,"
he said.
An instant later, both
entities were completely clean and dry. Garak walked into his living area,
picked up his sewing machine. "Don't worry, Kathy, this won't hurt a bit."
He activated it and repaired
some torn stitching on her neck, foot and midsection.
"There you go ... Sorry
I took so long .... I promise, it won't happen again."
He placed his sewing device
and the Cardassian mythical horse next to the plate of hasperat, then picked up
a piece and ate it. "Not bad, I have to thank Lila ... Feel free,
Kath," he said, indicating the remaining hasperat, as he retreated into
his bedroom and returned, donning, a long, lose pale green night shirt.
"Well, Kathy, enjoy your
-"
Garak stared at the plate -
only a few flakes of the hasperat pastry remained.
"Computer," Garak
said, a tad nervous, "besides myself has anyone been in my quarters
today?"
"Negative."
"Any transporter
activity?"
"Negative."
Garak looked down at his stuffed
toy. "Maybe you really were hungry."
Still quite bewildered, he
took the Eyoria into his bedroom, leapt into bed and smiled.
"Mmm ... oooh ... I
forget how comforting these covers are..." He hugged Kathyana, kissed her
nose and placed his arms around her.
In the next moment, Garak
burst into sobs. Tears he could no longer hold back. "I miss her ... Gods
... I miss her so much... She was so ... so young ... so beaut...iful ... so
lovely ..." Garak held Kathyana close, sobbing into her, his tears wetting
her shining fur. "I ... I wish I had more time with her ... She was so
unique ... Gods, I loved her so much..." Garak refused to be embarrassed
by another barrage of tears and he couldn't stop them, even if he tried.
Out of the corner of his eye,
he saw the wormhole open and turned his head to look at it.
"I hope you're taking
good care of her..." he whispered, not sure if he believed in the
Prophets.
The wormhole closed as
quickly as it had opened and Garak slid back down into his covers and looked
into Kathyana's crystal blue eyes, it didn't matter that they were plastic.
"Thanks for listening.
You always do it so well. Anytime you need someone, girl, I'm here." Garak
smiled to himself as he laid his head on his soft pillow, grateful when sleep
came easily, as he lay with his arms around Kathyana, comforted by dreams of
riding her, bareback, over Cardassia's ancient hills.
In a darkened shop, a lonely
pale blue-green dress stared out on the deserted Promenade. Hoping someday to
adorn an angel.
*