DS9 FanFic, "Distraction," G/B, PG-13, 1/2
Title: Distraction
Author: PrelocAndKanar
Series: DS9
Part: 1/1
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sometimes a good doctor must be creative…
Author's Note: I came across this recently from my works-in-progress folder. It’s been sitting there for almost a year. I honestly don’t remember if I floated it by Jen Ingram or Lady Drace, but if I did, I know they were very helpful and I’m grateful. I haven’t written anything new for so long, I may as well post this as-is.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns these characters, even though it never it never played with them enough. I only borrow them.
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“Come on, Garak. It’ll be fun.”
Garak raised an eyeridge and looked at the eager young man sitting in front of him. Dr. Bashir always wore his youth like a prize, but at this moment, he looked no more than a youngling about to leave for the riding hounds for the first time.
“Whatever made you think that I would be an appropriate companion for you on your little adventure?” Garak asked, enjoying Bashir’s look of mild annoyance at being patronized.
“It’s a research project, Garak.” Bashir corrected firmly.
“If it’s a research project, then why do you need company at all? Is it to help with the work? I’m afraid my skills lie in rather different areas.”
Bashir sighed. “No, I can handle the work myself, thank you. I’ll be spending all day in the rainforest. They’ve barely done any cataloging at all of the flora and fauna, and they haven’t even considered possible medical applications. Do you know that my ancestors on Earth had no idea what medical treasures they had right under their noses in the native rainforests until they were gone? The forests, that is. So, you’ll be free to do whatever you like all day. But in the evenings, well, it won’t take me long to organize my results and I’ll be there for two weeks… I just thought it would be more…”
“Fun?”
Bashir stared defiantly back. “Yes, fun. To have someone with me.”
“Surely, Doctor, it would be even more - fun - if you asked one of your lady friends…?”
“Unfortunately, there are no ‘lady friends’ at the moment.”
“And the Chief?”
Bashir snorted. “Miles has two kids under the age of six. Apparently, that precludes solo vacations. He asked me if I was trying to get him killed.”
“Surely, Keiko would be a perfect candidate. She is a botanist, after all. And I’m sure she would love to get away.”
“Well…. I don’t know if she’d be willing to leave the kids for that long. Kirayoshi is still pretty young.”
“Did you ask her?”
Bashir looked at his plate.
“I see.”
“I just thought I’d like to have someone I… that is, Keiko’s very nice, but…and this is my project…”
“So, after exhausting all other possibilities, you thought you would ask - me?”
Bashir gave him an exasperated look, then shifted his expression into something more positive and leaned forward.
“Who’s always complaining about how cold it is here? Wouldn’t you like to enjoy the heat and humidity? And aren’t we friends? Sometimes friends take a trip together. What’s the matter - afraid being together for so long will make you slip up and tell the truth about something, or run out of lies?”
Garak smiled.
“Just think of it! It’s primitive! It’s remote!”
Garak looked appalled. “And you envision me as someone who would enjoy ‘roughing it,’ I believe is the expression?" he said, as memories of that time on Narvi Prime lapped at his mind. Good times. Simple. Clear. He managed to keep a smile from ruining his expression. "Do you imagine me to be some sort of…” he searched for the right word. “Naturist?”
Bashir’s lips twitched. “You wouldn’t be tramping through the rainforest, Garak. Unless you wanted to, I mean,” he added hastily.
Garak widened his eyes dramatically and leaned forward. “Won’t it be… dangerous,” he asked in a stage whisper, gesturing broadly with his hand, “to be out of touch with the civilized world, on such a remote, primitive planet?”
“Dangerous?” scoffed Bashir, choosing to ignore the mockery. “You’ll be traveling with a doctor. I’ll bring a well-stocked medical emergency kit for both humans and Cardassians. Plus, we’ll wear emergency beam-out beacons. If one of us breaks a leg or has a heart attack, or gets a splinter, we’ll be all set. Besides,” he added, matching Garak’s teasing with his own, “isn’t danger your middle name?”
“Actually, I don’t have one.”
“It’ll be beautiful, Garak! Think of it. A little stone cottage, miles from anywhere. And food!” he added enthusiastically. “No replicators there. We’d have to take in our own food. And cook it!” He beamed. “Nothing fancy, but good, simple, real food. We could even cook outdoors! Over a fire!” He leaned back, thinking. “Nothing like the outdoor air to enhance the appetite.”
Garak looked fondly at Bashir, enjoying the young man’s enthusiasm. Appetite, indeed.
To be sure, the idea of spending a week alone with the doctor was enough to entice his appetite. He allowed a lazy grin to saunter onto his face, and his eyelids to drop to half-mast.
Alone with Julian. All to himself. For a week. The possibilities were endless…. But did he dare tamper with the delicate relationship they had now? It wasn’t what he longed for, true, but it was better than nothing. Did he dare risk what he had for the chance of more? There was something he’d heard the Chief say once. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” Still… a week in a cabin with Julian…
Bashir prattled on, oblivious.
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“Are you ready to leave?”
“All set, doctor,” said Garak, indicating a satchel by the door.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, -- we’re going to have to hike in a bit. You don’t mind a little hike, do you?”
Really. Just how old and decrepit did the doctor think he was? “No, not at all.”
“You might want to transfer your things to a rucksack, though,” said Bashir thoughtfully. “It would be a lot easier than carrying that thing.” He replicated one and returned with it, then stood by rather awkwardly as Garak transferred his things. He wasn’t sure if he should be watching, but he was too fascinated to turn away. He got an impression of rich colors, fine-looking fabrics.
“Garak! You know this is a rustic trip, don’t you?”
“Um hmm,” he responded distractedly.
“Why did you pack such - nice clothes?”
Garak looked up at Bashir with mild surprise. “’Nice’? These are my clothes. They are all ‘nice.’”
“The point is to get away from civilization. Rough it. We’re not going to be dining off of china, you know.”
Garak didn’t look up. “Doctor, when one is away from civilization, it is imperative that one takes civilization with one,” he said in a slight prissy tone, adding a Kotra set. “Besides, these are durable, comfortable and practical. The fact that they are not hideous is merely an added benefit.”
Bashir snorted.
“Did you expect to see me in - what are those called? - ‘grubbies’?”
Bashir didn’t answer, then said, “What’s that?”
Garak was hurriedly folding several long strips of cloth and transferring them.
“These? Well, … I believe in planning ahead, doctor, and in being prepared. What other people call luck is really being ready to seize an unexpected opportunity.”
Julian had lifted one of the strips of cloth and was looking at it. It was deep green, of some silky material and about three inches wide and several feet long.
“Huh?”
Garak smiled his most reptilian smile, then explained smoothly, “The new season, doctor. I plan to spend some time designing new styles for the shop.” Among other things, he thought. “These are samples of some new materials I may use.”
“Aren’t these a little… long for swatches?”
Garak put on an exasperated look.
“These are not for a sofa, doctor. They are for wearing. You must have enough length to see how the fabric drapes, to experience how it feels against the skin. Even to judge if the color will be versatile, if it will work for as many skin tones as possible.
“You see,” he took the strip out of Julian’s hand and lay it across his own grey-toned arm. “It looks quite different on Cardassian skin,” and here he moved the strip to lay it against Julian’s caramel-colored arm, “than it does on yours,” he finished softly. Julian looked at the silky strip of cloth on his forearm, then moved to take it in his hands. “It’s a beautiful cloth,” he said, admiring it. “Very, uh, smooth.” He returned it to Garak, then added, “There’s something I’ve always wondered, Garak. How come, for a tailor who can make anything he likes, your clothes are so stiff? They don’t seem like they’d be all that comfortable, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“Oh, but I always have something soft and thin next to my body,” smiled Garak, looking at the doctor and thinking about his golden skin. “These outer layers keep the heat of my body inside and ward off the cold of your human air.”
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The trip via Runabout to the planet was uneventful. Bashir checked in at the Department of Sciences; they received maps and connected their emergency beam-out anklets; and then they were on their way.
A beaten-up transport took them to the edge of town, where they disembarked and waited. Almost an hour later, a small holocraft took them to a tiny village. Hot and dirty, they donned their rucksacks and began the hike into the forest. Bashir eagerly led the way, frequently consulting his map, watching the lines glow green - or sometimes flash red, to his embarrassment - until finally, they came to a clearing.
“Well. Here it is.” He shrugged off his pack and looked at the cabin, as proud as if he had built it himself.
Garak smiled. The cabin, built of large boulders, was small and primitive. He wondered if it consisted of just one large room. That would be very cozy. He wished there were something that could be used as a bath, though. He could feel the dust getting under his scales, and it was driving him crazy. How nice it would be to relax in ample water. Even if he had to do it alone.
True to his word, Bashir built a campfire. They tried their best, but the bugs were unbearable. Soon they had dosed the flame and moved inside. To Garak’s disappointment, the cabin had two tiny bedrooms and a central room that served as kitchen, dining room and living room. They each went to a bedroom to get settled.
Garak emerged a few minutes later. He could hear Bashir opening drawers and doing guls-knew-what in his room. While he waited, he set about preparing the table.
He opened cabinets and found plain-looking pottery plates and modest cutlery. His fingers lingered over the plates as he set them out. He approved of them. Someone had thrown these by hand. They were simple and honest, and they had a dignity and heft he appreciated. In a lower cabinet, he found a few small towels, and set these out as well. Finally, he found a small bowl and two saucers and set them in the center of the table.
A quick look around the outside of the cabin revealed some sort of weed, with spiky yet soft-looking heads of pale purple, surrounded by round burgundy leaves. After scanning them to be sure they were not poisonous, Garak picked a few and arranged them in the bowl. Then he went back to his room and retrieved two candles. He was placing them on the saucers when Bashir emerged.
“Here we go,” said the doctor. He took out the rations they had brought, promising to see about local fishing in the morning. Garak found it strange that on a mission devoted to cataloging and preserving local flora and fauna, Bashir could enthusiastically plan to catch, kill and eat the wildlife. Humans were so odd, so hypocritical. Not that Garak had anything against obtaining one’s food honestly. But Bashir, in the past, had been aghast at the idea of hunting. Perhaps humans put non-mammals into a different category. How strange.
Garak reached over and twisted the first candle’s wick expertly. A tiny flame jumped up, and he repeated the process with the second. A soft, flickering light filled the cabin.
Bashir took his seat. Garak looked at the young man across from him, and he couldn’t tell if the warm light was coming from the candles or that smiling face. He reached down and revealed the bottle he had so carefully packed. An Earth wine, just for this occasion. He filled their glasses, and they ate.
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It happened much later that night, after that wonderful meal. Bashir had stepped outside to try to see the stars, but of course they were hidden beneath the rainforest canopy. Garak had promised to join him. Bashir strolled a short distance away, reminding himself to dig a proper latrine in the morning.
Suddenly, he felt the ground tremble beneath him. He stumbled, and the ground stopped moving. Then, like a lion angered and roused to pounce, the ground lurched again, this time much more violently. He was thrown off his feet, and found himself clutching uselessly for something to hold onto.
It seemed to last forever. There came a terrible rumbling sound nearby. He tried to call out, but his mouth refused to work. Something came down on his back, and he threw his hands over his head to shield it. He expected the ground to swallow him up at any time. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited to fall into an abyss.
Then it was over.
Shaken, he couldn’t move at first. His breath was uneven and he could feel his pulse racing. After a moment that felt like far too long, he managed to get to his feet. He straightened up and turned toward the cabin.
It lay in a pile of rubble.
He ran.
Read part 2 http://prelocandkanar.livejournal.com/31150.html