| Author:
Melissa
Pairing: Deafiant Garak/Deafiant Lore Rating: PG-13 Feedback: < [email protected] > Disclaimer: Viacom is Borg - that pretty much says it all. Notes: Part of the "Garak Fuh-q Fest" Archiving: ( Cardassian Choir )
Lore gave Garak his most endearing, pleading stare, a look usually found on injured puppies and those patrons in the mess hall forced to listen to Engineer Riker's singing. "Help me," Lore pleaded. Dr. Garak sighed. "I don't understand why you won't just tell her you're not interested." "It's not that simple with her," Lore said, shaking his head in shivering horror. "She doesn't understand the meaning of the words 'I think we should just be friends', or 'I really am not interested', or even 'Get the !!@#@@! away from me!' " Lore slumped in his seat. "She's been stalking me ever since we started working together, I can't even go to the bathroom..." Dr. Garak looked at Lore, incredulous, "You go to the bathroom?" Lore snorted, "Of course I do!" "Really?" Garak couldn't believe this little revelation. "But you're an android." Lore sighed, clearly pissed. "I have all the proper plumbing, Garak." Garak grimaced. "Oh, well, that would explain it, I suppose." He chewed on the thought. "Though I must admit, it does seem a little unnecessary..." "Father wasn't the brightest inventor in the world," Lore said. "He figured since I might need the periodic oil change the best way to get rid of the old oil would be to urinate." "I don't need to know any more," Garak said, holding his hand up to make Lore stop. "I can detach it too," Lore said with beaming pride. "That, I definitely didn't need to know." Garak pressed a few more buttons on his console, deciding it would be best to get back to his research. He'd been feeling terribly irritable lately, and he wanted to find a better remedy than fermented yamok beans--a horrific food even by Cardassian standards. He sighed, wondering if the effort was even worth it. It was an annual occurrence, and he had less than a week left to suffer through anyway. "Look, all I need to know is if I can count on you." Garak brought his thumb to his lip and chewed it absently, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Lore wasn't the only one suffering ever since Ensign Kira had been assigned to the Deafiant. Her penchant for destroying mechanical gadgetry had already made her a legend. Starfleet engineers throughout the galaxies spoke her name in the same hushed tones one would speak of concerning vampires and demons. The worst consequence of this was that Julian hadn't had a night's peace since the Deafiant undocked from Cardassia IV seven days ago. His exhaustion over constantly overseeing the repairs to the damage caused by Ensign Kira was seriously affecting their relationship. He hadn't come to bed once that week without grumbling and muttering angrily as he collapsed onto the bed and fell into a dead sleep, every now and then uttering a strangled curse word around the ensign's name. They were only married two weeks, and the honeymoon was already over, thanks to Ensign Kira. Garak frowned inwardly, he didn't usually have this kind of animosity for anyone, but since he was suffering the effects of a newly awakened sexuality that was suddenly starved, he felt a bit more on edge than usual. He glanced down at Lore, thinking about the android's plan. He couldn't be sure that it would work in getting Kira to give up her bizarre infatuation. The sound of happy steps bouncing down the corridor in a steady, lighthearted rhythm made Lore's face suddenly contort into an expression of sheer terror. "Shit! It's her!" He looked frantically around the sick bay, looking for an adequate place to hide. He opened a door, and a pool of cold mist spilled from it. "I don't think you want to hide in there," Garak said, shaking his head. "That's where all the Counselor Weyouns are kept on ice." "They can't talk, can they?" "Er..no. They're frozen." "Good," Lore said as he slid into the room, his voice muffling as he ventured further inside. "All he ever talks about is Bergman this, and Bergman that. The man has issues..." The door slid shut just as the main sick bay doors opened, revealing the bouncing, happy form of Ensign Kira smiling widely and humming a tune comprised of a myriad of incongruous notes. "Hello, Ensign Kira," Garak said with a strained smile. "What can I do for you?" "Have you seen Lore?" Dr. Garak had never been good at lying. "He...uh...he..." Garak's thumb immediately found its accustomed place at his mouth and he began nibbling frantically. A series of nasty, muffled curse words invaded the air, and Garak looked fearfully in the direction of the Weyoun clones' freezer. The phrase "Dammit, I snapped off a finger.." came through loud and clear along with some agitated shuffling and the rustling of plastic bags. Kira stared from the freezer back to a guilt ridden Garak, and then back again. When she finally spoke, her hazel eyes wider than dinner plates riveted on Garak's wincing orbs, her voice came out in an incredulous whisper. "Garak," she whispered, shaking her head as she did so. "Are you and Lore having an affair?" Garak coughed. "Uh. Sure." "Garak!" Kira said in breathless shock. "How could you do this?" "I..." "It's the pressure isn't it?" she asked, shaking her head with a mournful expression on her face. "I know how hard it can be, but you and Captain Bashir have such a wonderful relationship...Well, at least you had, and..." "Thank you, Kira, but I really think you should leave. I have to get some work done. And, really, it isn't any of your concern." Kira was adamant. "No. No, you and Captain Bashir have to see a marriage counselor right away." Her eyes suddenly clouded over with the glossy hue of a sickeningly, die hard romantic. "There still might be hope for you both if only you could come together once again." Garak's eyes narrowed a little at that. Fat chance of that happening with her busting consoles all the time and keeping his husband in a permanent state of exhaustion. "I think it would be best if you left right now, Kira," he said, practically pushing her out of the infirmary door, "I do have a lot of work to do. Research. You understand?" "No. Garak you have to tell Captain Bashir." "Certainly not!" Garak exclaimed. "This has to stay between you and me. I can't be responsible for what happens if he should find out. You know how bad his temper is." "Oh, he's not that bad," Kira giggled. "Remember last week when he hatcheted that door near your quarters with an axe in a fit of hopeless rage?" "There were extenuating circumstances," Kira said gravely in her singsong voice. She sighed, and smiled wanly. "Well, Garak, I can only hope you know what you're doing." "So do I," Garak said to himself. "I hope everything works out in the end," Kira said as she wagged her finger in front of his nose, "But I hope you know that I don't approve. Not one bit!" She left the sick bay and a rather shaken Garak behind. He'd have to tell Julian about it tonight. No doubt his partner would find the entire fiasco hilarious. "Is she gone?" a fearful voice asked. "Yes, she's gone," Garak said, sinking his head in his hands. "And she's left a tragedy in her wake." "Heh. When doesn't she?" Lore said. He dropped something white and cylindrical on the top of the console. Garak stared at it with no small amount of disgust. "It snapped off," Lore shrugged. "They're packed pretty tight in there, I could hardly move..." "They aren't exactly going anywhere," Garak replied. Grimacing, Garak picked up the broken digit from the console using a pair of sterilized tongs taken from a drawer in the console and walked back to the freezer where he placed it on a shelf before closing the door securely when he exited. "So," Lore said, eagerly shadowing every move Garak made. "Did you tell her?" "I..." Garak sighed and sat down in his chair in front of his console, and dragged his gray fingers across the top of his wide forehead. "She thinks you and I are having an affair." "What?!" Lore's facial expression began twisting into un-natural shapes. "How did she come up with that conclusion? I thought you were going to tell her I was impotent!" "She came to the other conclusion before I could even suggest anything else," Garak shrugged helplessly. Lore stared at Garak for a long, tense moment, then erupted into a fit of giggles. "Julian is gonna bust his bladder laughing over this one!" "I'm glad you find the idea of having an affair with me amusing," Garak said, getting a little annoyed. "Hey, don't get me wrong, Garak," Lore said between spurts of chuckles, "I think you're just as dandy as the next guy." His posture straightened into full machismo mode, "But the thing is, when you've had some silken conduit cables run against your leg like I have..." "Lore," Garak said in unaccustomed harshness, "I am not an engineer. I am a doctor, and by further definition a biologist. The information you are giving me is most definitely not my concern." Lore opened his mouth as if to say more on the subject, but thought better of it and let it be. "Well, thanks for helping me out anyway...Loverboy." Lore snickered as he left the sick bay, leaving an incensed Dr. Garak behind. **** "Buahahahaha!!" Garak rolled his eyes as he tossed the pillow covers into the laundry receptacle. "Well, I'm glad *you* find it amusing." Captain Bashir wiped a stray, mirthful tear from his cheek and watched as his partner continued to angrily stuff the receptacle full of laundry with more aggression than usual. He noticed Garak wasn't taking the usual care he did with some of the more delicate items, namely the silk sheets that had cost him a small fortune (but were well worth it the <wink>). Bashir winced as he heard the gentle fabric begin to tear. "Garak," he said, a lot more gently than his earlier plea, "why don't you just come to bed?" "What's the point?" Garak grumbled. Bashir sighed. He had to admit, he had been a little neglectful in the romance department as of late. The constant repairs on the ship had kept him up at all hours, and he had made the mistake of bringing his work's frustrations home with him. Guilt crept into his heart, and he knew he had to find a way to alleviate it before it drove them further apart. Garak sank onto the bed and slid under the covers with his back turned toward Bashir. Bashir inched closer, teasing the soft, black hair on the back of Garak's head with soothing fingers. "Tell you what," Bashir said, kissing Garak's shoulder softly. "Tonight, why don't we prove to each other just how devoted we are to our union?" Garak slid onto his back and peered into his partner's face. "Do you mean that?" "Of course," Bashir said, kissing an eye ridge gently, and trailing his lips along the line from Garak's eye down his cheekbone, and along the upper ridges of his neck. Garak sighed deeply, and Bashir smiled into his kiss. "What do you say we get naked and..." Garak pounced before he even had time to finish his sentence. *** Kira stood outside of Lore's door, wringing her hands together. Though she was loathed to do this, there was a very sweet couple's happiness at stake (well, Garak was sweet) and she was going to do everything in her power to make that union work, even if it meant harming the object of her current affections. Steeling herself, she entered his quarters and headed for his room. *** Captain Bashir could barely hear the alarm the next morning. It's incessant droning refused to stop, and he couldn't find the energy to bark out the order to make it shut up. He lay in bed, spent, exhausted, worn out. He sighed, running out of adjectives. It had been a wonderful night, he thought, there was no doubt about that, but shit, where the hell did Garak find all that stamina? Bashir wrapped the comforter around him tighter, wincing a little at the contact on his ribs. Garak had been a little more aggressive than usual too, he recalled. He rolled on his back and the pain in his ribs shot through his entire body like a stabbing yawn. A lot more aggressive than usual. "Wake up, my dear," Garak's cheery voice called from the kitchen. "You only have an hour before you have to be on the bridge." He walked into the bedroom, his blue velvet robe belted tightly around his waist. Without waiting for Bashir to come out of the covers on his own, Garak pulled down the comforter and planted a warm, searching kiss on Bashir's stunned mouth. "Maybe later," Garak said in a sultry whisper, "we can have a little fun in your office." Garak? Bashir opened his eyes to see his partner's gray, delicately scaled face peering down at him. Garak was suggesting an afternoon romp in his office? Garak, aka, Not-On-the-First-Date, Not-Until- We're-Married, Garak was wanting to do this? It was on the tip of his tongue to start demanding identification when their front door slid open and Lore stormed into their quarters. He stood in the middle of their bedroom, shaking, all the metallic pieces in his body clanging together. "Lore, what the hell are you doing here?" Bashir shouted angrily. But when Lore didn't answer, but kept staring at him in terror, Bashir couldn't help but laugh. "Don't worry about it Lore, I know about the fake affair thing, all right ? Besides, last I looked Garak didn't have any conduit cables attached to him." Lore didn't respond. "Lore? Is there a problem?" Bashir asked. "It's gone." Lore said, and a circuit popped near his eye, closing it in a wince. "What's gone?" Garak asked. "IT." *** "You don't honestly think she took it?" Bashir gave Garak a knowing look. "I have no problem equating that kind of atrocity with Ensign Kira. She's certainly made my life hell, I wouldn't be surprised to hear that she broke Lore's balls." "She didn't break anything, so much as...borrowed," Garak reminded him. "Taking something that private off of Lore's body is hardly what I call borrowing," Captain Bashir said in a louder voice, and Garak hushed him, gesturing to Lore who was huddled over a console on the other end of the sick bay. Julian gave his android friend a cursory glance, making sure he was engrossed in his task before continuing. "Look, I don't think it would hurt to search her room, but I have to get a warrant from Starfleet..." "Okay, I got them narrowed down to about fifteen," Lore said, looking up from the console and in Garak's direction. "Not sure about the compatibility ratio, though." "I'll be right there," Garak said, forcing his voice to remain light. He whispered once again to his husband, "I don't know if she did it or not, but either way I'm still stuck here with your anti-freeze drinking, Elvis tune humming, hillbilly android friend, staring at row upon row of prosthetic penises until we can find one that's compatible enough with his programming. I don't know what kind of day *you* are going to have, my dear, but I can guarantee it won't be as unbearable as mine." ---four days later---- Captain Bashir clutched the warrant on his PADD with a white knuckled grip. Though he had tried to keep the incident as quiet as possible, news of his crewmember's 'loss' had spread throughout Starfleet like wildfire. The Deafiant was now being called The Penile Purger, much to Captain Bashir's embarrassed chagrin. He was going to kill Ensign Kira. Bashir sighed, as if this little embarrassing escapade wasn't bad enough, he had discovered that Garak was suffering from an unbearable amount of aggression in the bedroom. So much so that he had accidentally dislocated Bashir's shoulder and left a few nasty bites on his husband's arm just two nights ago. When he'd pressed Garak over where the hell all this un-natural aggression was coming from, his husband had collapsed into tears and told him in halting, unhappy words: "I'm...in....I'm...It's Hendra..." Hendra. The Cardassian word for heat, and not the kind that involved high temperatures. An annual occurrence in healthy Cardassian males, apparently, that lasted a little over a week on average. Bashir sighed anew, staring hour after hour at new penises for Lore must have been an exceptional torture for his poor spouse. He pressed Kira's buzzer with angry vigor, and grimaced when he heard her sickly sweet, sing-song voice call out, "Come on in! It's open!" Bashir stormed into her quarters and was immediately blinded by the color pink. He blinked twice, trying to bring the rosy shades into some semblance of calm, but to no avail. Kira's quarters were awash in various shades of the happy color, her furniture and accessories in equal harmony. It was like stepping into a giant version of Barbie's house. "All right, Kira," he said, coughing into his fist and then holding up the PADD. "I have a warrant, so don't even think about saying no. Before I tear this place to shreds, I want you to give it back." Kira shrugged, but didn't bring her eyes to meet Captain Bashir's. "Give what back?" she asked with a high pitched squeak. "Lore's cock." Bashir said, annoyed. "We know you have it. Give it back to him." "Why would I have something like that?" she asked, trying to laugh it off, but in her obvious guilt she avoided Captain Bashir's eyes. "Well, for one, because you found out Garak and Lore are having an affair, and you were jealous and wanted to quash it." "Ooooh," Kira said, nodding and looking intensely at Captain Bashir. "So you *know* about Garak and Lore?" "Of course I do, I'm the one who encouraged it," Bashir said with a snarl. Since she was nasty enough to steal one of his best friend's 'pieces', the least he could do was torture her a little. He had to admit, the shocked, sick look on her face did make him feel a lot better. "Boy," Kira said, shaking her head. "If I'd known you guys were all so...*kinky*..." "Kira, you have a lot of nerve using that word when you and I both know you snuck into Lore's bedroom when he was in his 'offline' cycle and took his most intimate possession." He gave her a steely, dangerous stare that made her chew her bottom lip nervously. "Give it back." "I...well..." "Well what?" "It's just..." Kira gave Bashir a sheepish grin. "I've kind of gotten, you know, *attached* to it." *** "You don't want it back Lore," Bashir said to him with a sigh. Garak stood beside Lore at the console in his sick bay, staring at Bashir dumbfounded. "You mean she *used* it?" Garak's gray complexion had paled to near white in shock of what he was hearing. "Yes," Bashir said with a grimace. He glanced back at Lore. "If it makes you feel any better Lore, she says she doesn't find you attractive anymore." "Fine by me." Lore said, utterly nonplused. "I like this one better anyway." He pointed to the screen. Garak widened his eyes a little at Lore's choice. "Hmm, so do I," Garak said, half to himself. "I've relieved her of her duties for the next month, save for cleaning out the latrines in the mess hall. I figure that might be a suitable punishment, what with Riker's cooking." Bashir said with malicious glee. He rose from his seat and headed out of sick bay, "I've got to get some of those other consoles realigned. Lore, if you're finished, you can come with me. Garak, I'm sorry baby, but I'm going to be really late getting home again tonight." Garak looked intensely disappointed. Lore tapped at the console with a confident finger. "That's the one I want," he said. "I'll come back and get it fitted later, if that's okay with you." "Fine, " Garak said with a sad sigh as he watched his husband leave. Lore patted Garak on the back jovially and headed out, quickly following Bashir. Garak was left alone in his sick bay, in front of the console that displayed Lore's choice. Garak sighed sadly again. "Computer, please give me one replication of selection #3243..." He paused, staring for a moment at Lore's newest feature. "Computer, make that, uh, two replications of selection #3243." He chewed his thumb pensively, then punched a few buttons, skimming more of the catalogue. "Hmm. And one replication of selection #6996." END [ main page || basics || pairings || list || tales || disclaimer || links ] |