Chapter Text
The Cheap Date
A Garak/Bashir Mystery
By JA Ingram
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First Date: A Favor
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Julian had his feet propped up and had just started getting comfortable when the chime to his quarters chirped. He sighed and tried to keep the annoyance out of his face as he rose to answer. It had been a bad day, filled with rude, demanding patients and he had just wanted to relax and get himself back into shape.
Why do people keep coming to me, he thought as he approached the door, it's not like he was the only Doctor on board. Dr. Okuna was supposed to be on night shift, "Enter."
Standing before him was Garak, with a slightly uneasy expression on his face, "Good evening, Doctor. I hope I'm not disturbing you?"
"Not...really." For a moment, Julian felt little caught off guard. The tailor had never come to the Doctor's quarters before, well, not to his door anyway. The last time he'd been in these quarters, Garak been standing over Julian's bed in the middle of the night to take him to an orphanage on Bajor. Actually, even knowing of Garak's odd habit of showing up in the middle of the night unawares, he almost found it more disturbing to see Garak just standing in the doorway like a normal person, "Are you ill or something, Garak?"
"No, not at all," a shadow of discomfort crossed Garak's features and he stepped back. "I'm sorry, I apologize for coming unannounced. I won't keep you any longer. Have a good-"
"Wait," Julian stopped him, "Isn't there something you needed?"
The tailor paused, then shrugged, "The replicator unit in my quarters isn't working and I was wondering if I could impose upon you to allow me to use yours, if it wouldn't be too much trouble?" Garak asked apologetically.
"No, no trouble at all," Julian stepped back from the entrance and gestured for Garak to enter. "Please, come in."
"I normally wouldn't ask, but there are several Vedeks and Bajoran leaders touring the station for the conference this week and I didn't want to cause any...well, you understand," Garak shrugged, politely looking around Julian's quarters as he explained, "Normally, my presence wouldn't be a disturbance, but these men and women don't live here and might object to sitting next to a Cardassian in a restaurant for...obvious reasons." He took a breath and walked toward Julian's replicator in the kitchenette. "There's something wrong with the power supply to my replicator unit and Chief O'Brien assured me that he'd look at it in the morning. You're one of the few people I know who wouldn't mind me using yours until mine is repaired."
"Well, I was getting a bit hungry myself, actually," Julian gave him a friendly smile.
"I had only intended to replicate the food and go, Doctor," Garak said. "If you have plans, I don't want to keep you."
"No, not at all, I was planning on dining in myself. Please, feel free to join me," Julian invited.
"Thank you," Garak bowed his head slightly in acceptance. He turned to the replicator, "Oh good, your unit has quite an extensive menu. Let's see, Roast Tarkelian fowl in wine sauce with new potatoes and carrots and a large glass of iced tea, lightly sweetened."
"That does sound good," Julian said. "Today was so hectic I barely had time to breathe much less eat today." He gestured toward the replicator, "Would you mind?"
"Not at all." Garak ordered a second plate and Julian gestured for him to join him at his small table. "This does smell good, doesn't it?"
"Very, I'm famished," Julian dropped his napkin into his lap and the two fell silent as they ate. At first, neither man spoke because hunger occupied their attention but after a few moments, Julian began to wonder if he should begin some sort of discussion. Occasionally, the two men shared lunches at the replimat, talking about literature and such, but in this unusual circumstance he had no clue what he should talk about. "Um, so how was work today?" Julian winced inwardly. He might as well have asked how the weather was on the Promenade. Coming up with small talk always made him feel awkward.
"Honestly? It was terrible," Garak dabbed at the corners of his mouth with his napkin then paused to sip his drink. "It seemed like everyone who entered the shop today was in a foul mood. One customer was so insulted that I didn't have her dress size already in stock, that I thought I'd have to call security."
Well, apparently Garak approved of the topic after all. "I know what you mean," Julian said ruefully. "I had to deal with a bunch of idiots who decided to try mountain climbing in one of the holosuites with the safety protocols turned down. They acted as though it was my fault that they got hurt and when I pointed out that the safeties are there to protect them, they practically blistered my ears with foul language and insults. I really hate tourists."
"A necessary evil in a Space Station, I'm afraid," Garak grinned. "At least you didn't have a 480lb, 7'8" Balgorath threaten to disembowel you because you implied she wasn't petite enough to fit in something off the rack."
"Wow, I never realized being a tailor was so hazardous to one's health," Julian chuckled, "Now I have this picture in my head of you being sat on a big angry woman with a boar's head and large tusks wearing a too-tight ball gown."
"You're not too far off the mark actually. I'll admit, being a tailor does have an element of danger at times, my dear Doctor," Garak smiled and ate some of his vegetables before launching into another hilarious tale of his near death experiences within the retail industry.
After dinner, Julian and Garak replicated some dessert and sat on the couch with their coffee and continued their discussion. The topics ranged from station gossip to art and philosophy. It was like one of their lunches, only the topics were more free flowing and less rushed. He was actually enjoying himself and beginning to really get into the flow of things when he realized they had lost track of time. "It can't be after 12 o'clock, can it?" He looked up at the chronometer on the wall with surprise.
Garak rose from the couch and stifled a yawn, "It is getting late, excuse me, I'm afraid I really must be going. This day is finally beginning to catch up with me. However, I do want to thank you for your hospitality and your company. It has been a pleasure, Doctor."
"Julian."
"Excuse me?" Garak asked.
"My name. Call me Julian." A reluctant look crossed the older man's face and Julian hastened to explain, "Where I'm from when two people spend an evening meal together and consider themselves to be friends, we call each other by our given names."
"I see." Garak gave a slow nod, "Cardassians are a very formal people, Doctor. When we are in the presence of someone we admire or who holds a respected position, such as yourself," he gestured politely toward the younger man, "we tend to use their titles instead."
"Well, perhaps you'd consider a compromise." Julian smiled, "When we run into each other during the day or when I'm on duty, we'll use our usual greeting for one another. When we meet for an evening meal or in private, you can call me Julian, all right?"
"Very well," Garak nodded. "Julian, then."
"And your given name is Elim? I'm pronouncing it correctly, yes?" Julian asked.
"Uh, yes you are." Garak looked a little taken aback.
"Do you...not want me to use your given name?" Julian inquired, gauging the man's reaction.
"Actually, I'd prefer you didn't. No offence, Doctor," he added quickly, "it's just that not many people have ever called me that. I confess, I never liked my name, even as a child. 'Elim' never suited me much which is why I always went by simply Garak, then as I grew older, I merely got used to not hearing it spoken aloud."
"Why not? It seems like a perfectly good name," Julian frowned. "Very dignified, actually."
"Too dignified in many ways, it always seemed to be the name of an old man, or at least I always thought so." Garak leaned a little closer as if sharing a confidence, "Although I do strive to age gracefully, I'm not yet ready to give up all of the follies of my youth."
"I understand, perfectly. Plain, simple Garak it is, then," Julian teased, mocking Garak a little. The first time Julian and Garak had met, those were the very words the Cardassian used to introduce himself.
The accompanying smile on the Cardassian's face indicated he also understood the reference.
"You have it exactly, my dear doc-excuse me, Julian," he corrected himself. "Are there any other customs I might share with you instead, then?"
"A handshake," Julian offered the Cardassian his outstretched hand.
"Very well, Julian. Thank you," Garak took Julian's hand in his, gratefully.
It was supposed to be a simple handshake, but just as their hands clasped, Julian felt as though something passed between them like a shock of electricity or the pull of a magnet. Despite the confidence of his grip, the look on the other man's face implied Garak also seemed a bit out of sorts. Their hands remained touching for just a second or two longer than was necessary, then Garak released his hand and headed out the door, "Goodnight, Garak," Julian called out.
Garak gave him the briefest of smiles and said a simple, "Goodnight, Doctor," and left.
Julian stared after the door for a few moments trying to decide what he was feeling right now. Perhaps it's just fatigue coupled with stress, he decided and concentrated on trying to clear his head before moving toward the bedroom.