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Sep. 8th, 2012

garak

Fic: "Warm" (Drabble)

No alarm. No obligations. No duties to call him away. It was a blissfully quiet moment. He floated in that hazy space between sleep and awareness, reveling in the warmth that surrounded him. A bare chest pressed against his back. A hand rested possessively on his hip. The sound of even breathing reached his ear. Contentedly, he listened to the steady and reassuring rhythm. Not once did he feel compelled to open his heavy eyelids. His only desire was to remain in stillness, ensconced in his lover’s embrace. Silence sung its sweet lullaby. Darkness called. He willingly succumbed once more.


(A/N: For Nausikaa on tumblr in response to the “Fiction on Demand” post. The prompt was "floating".)

Sep. 6th, 2012

garak

Fic: "Unraveled" (Drabble)

Expert hands crafted a masterpiece of silk lace one loop at a time, a laborious but thoroughly satisfying process. Confidence was a garment Garak wore with ease.

The surgeon approached his own masterpiece with equal confidence. Outstretched fingers played at the nap of the neck, gliding through hair as luxurious as the silk. They then slid down along the ridge to the curve of the shoulder. His touch blossomed with pressure at just the right juncture.

The master craftsman unintentionally dropped a stitch.

When the project finally fell to the floor forgotten, it was plain, simple Garak who came unraveled.



(A/N: Written for misereremei on tumblr as part of the “Fiction On Demand” post.)

Sep. 5th, 2012

garak

Fic: "Telltale Signs" (Drabble)

“You must be looking forward to visiting your parents on such a momentous occasion,” Garak commented as he watched the doctor pack. Bashir would be present to witness his father’s release.

He hesitated over the open case for several seconds, an extra uniform tunic in his hand. Without raising his gaze, he carelessly deposited it on top of other meticulously stowed belongings. Then he shifted slightly, turning more of his back to Garak, and obstructing the expression on his face from view.

“I am, actually,” he finally replied, his voice decidedly even.

Garak knew a lie when he saw one.

Aug. 30th, 2012

garak

(no subject)

Observation: I should stay OFF of tumblr if I want to get any writing done.

Observation: Motivation is at an all time low due to allergies.

Suggestion: I just read a rewrite of "The Crossing" with Kirk and Rand. There needs to be a rewrite with Garak and Bashir. Or Bashir and Sisko. I'd take either one.

Ponders: Why isn't there a DS9 story challenge community?

Ponders: Why isn't it Friday yet?
garak

Fic: "Tea For Two" (Drabble)

A pair of hands gently descended upon Garak’s shoulders from behind. He immediately tensed. It had been months since anyone had touched him and one did not do so without permission. It was then, with a cup of Tarkalean Tea in his hands, that the irony hit him. Had he not initially approached his long absent friend in the same manner?

Wordlessly, the individual behind him reached around and took the cup from the saucer.

Could it be?

Elation overcame Garak and the tension in his shoulders fled. Without turning, he offered an invitation.

“My dear doctor. Do join me.”



(A/N: This is a sequel to "Tea" but I think it can stand on its own. The inspiration came from a scene in Cairo Times. Bonus points to anyone who recognizes it.)

Aug. 29th, 2012

garak

Fic: "Tea" (Drabble)

Perhaps it was wishful thinking that compelled him to order Tarkalean Tea that morning. Perhaps it was the desire to be reminded of a long absent friend. Garak had never truly cared for the beverage himself. The association however was strong. On occasion, he would allow himself the luxury of believing his companion had simply been delayed, that some emergency had arisen. The truth was the two hadn’t shared a meal in years. Time and distance separated them. As the blazing sun rose over the horizon of Cardassia, Garak sipped his sweet tea and fabricated lies too bitter to digest.

Aug. 24th, 2012

isolation

Fic: "So Few Words" (Drabble)

Surviving solitary was easier than watching his friend suffer. With the Breen still presumably asleep and Martok and Worf absent again, Bashir seized the opportunity to communicate privately the sympathy he never had the chance to impart.

“Garak.” His tone of voice was identical to before.

The Cardassian turned on him, anger flashing on his face for only half a second. “Don’t, doctor,” he ordered.

Bashir instantly drew back.

Garak breathed in and let it out slowly, his features softening. He then seated himself on the cot next to Bashir, so close their shoulders touched.

No more words were necessary.
garak

(no subject)

My dear doctor, it was I who chased you. How is it then that I am the one who has became ensnared?

Aug. 23rd, 2012

garak

UK Interview with Andrew Robinson

I'm probably the only person on the internet who hadn't yet read this. A UK Amazon interview with Andrew Robinson regarding "A Stitch In Time", which I have yet to buy.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/tg/feature/-/53485/

Aug. 22nd, 2012

garak

Fic: "Late" (Drabble)

“You’re up late, doctor,” Garak observed.

Bashir gestured to the display above his desk. “I’m working on a little problem.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any way I could be of assistance,” he offered.

The doctor smiled, knowingly. “Do you happen to have a degree in parasitology?”

“I can’t say that I do.”

“Neither do I, unfortunately.”

“Perhaps if you slept on it-“ Garak began.

“-the answer might come to me?” Bashir finished.

“There is some truth to it. A well rested mind is better suited to address complex issues.”

“Then I’d be wise to take your advice.”

“An excellent decision.”

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