The BLTS Archive The Intervention by BGM (bgmanic@gmail.com) --- "Teach me Kardasi." The request, when it was uttered, caught Elim Garak completely off-guard. "Pardon me?" Julian Bashir unloaded a few PADDs on Garak's counter and nodded decisively at them. "Teach me your language." Garak peered at the handlinks, pulling one of them up and reading off its monitor. "Doctor, I'm not sure I want to ask what brought on this sudden urge - are you feeling well?" he asked, assessing the young doctor with a critical eye. "I'm feeling very well, thank you! I've been coaching myself on a few basics," he said, passion sweeping his voice as so often it did when Doctor Bashir was excited about something. "But I have trouble with the varying structure and sources," Julian chattered, perching himself on a chair and peering at the PADDs, "and I thought that you and I could--" "Doctor," Garak interrupted, holding his hand up. He took a moment to gather his breath. "I'm certain the computer could more than accommodate this recent ... whim of yours." Smiling politely, Garak pushed the PADDs toward the edge of the counter and resumed his measurements. "So ... you're not going to help me," Julian said, disappointed. "No," Garak replied simply. "May I ask why?" Garak closed his eyes in a show of suffering desperation. "Doctor, I have no time to devote my hours to something that could take years to teach you. I have enough orders coming in, what with the Bajoran festival of the month approaching, and besides," he said, looking up indignantly, "why do want to learn Kardasi?" Julian shook his head, clearly struggling with an inner turmoil, and began to gather the PADDs together. "I just thought it'd be nice." "Nice," Garak repeated, grimacing. "Nice," Julian retorted. "Nice to spend some time together for once. You're always ... busy," he scowled, "with something or other, and we haven't had lunch in months, and you're avoiding me like--" "I am not avoiding you," Garak protested. "--some sort of plague." Julian exhaled sharply, pulling the handlinks into his arms. "I'm sorry I bothered you." Garak shrugged, suddenly looking unconcerned as he returned his attention to the suit he was fashioning. "This would be the part where you tell me 'why no, Doctor, it's no bother at all. And you're right, I've been an absolute bastard. How about we have lunch?'." Garak spared him a withering glance. "I guess I was mistaken. I truly am sorry for having wasted your time. Good-bye." Garak lowered his eyes to the fabric and didn't so much as flinch as the doors closed behind the retreating doctor. /Humans,/ he thought unkindly. /Always so wrapped up with foolish notions. / Julian tried with difficulty to control his temper as he stalked down the steps leading to the tailoring shop. Ezri was waiting by a decorative pylon, chatting amiably with a fellow officer. When she spotted Julian she excused herself and jogged after him. "So?" she bubbled excitedly. "Did it work?" Julian's response was to shove the PADDs in her arms. With a wry smile he said, "I give up. How's that?" before he marched angrily toward the turbolift. Ezri slowed down and watched him go. "I guess not," she sighed. She dumped the PADDs on a bench then turned her heel. Garak parted his lips in concentration, maneuvering the cutting beam along the mark he'd made on a stretch of Tholian silk. It had to be three inches exactly, and he was finishing up the last inch when-- "What in Joint Gods' is your problem?" --Ezri burst into his shop yelling. The cutting implement zig-zagged across the fabric and tore it to useless shreds. He slammed the appliance on his counter and glared at the Trill, not at all amused by these constant interruptions. "I would gladly lock my shop, but that would dissuade any /desirable/ company," he edged between his teeth. "Do you know how long it took me to talk Julian into coming here?" she said, ignoring his slight. "I'm certain you'll make it a pleasure to tell--" "THREE hours! I convinced him that you were just upset, that all you two needed was conversation. Knowing how stubborn and proud you are--" "Why thank you." "--I suggested he ask you for a favor instead," she went on without missing a beat. "But you just ruined that man's mood for another month, and I personally don't feel like sitting through another lunch hearing about how he misses having lunch with /you/." She stopped talking, her eyes wide with anger as she let out a long exhale. "Are you finished?" Garak asked calmly, smoothing his palm across the fabric. Perhaps he could fashion some gloves ... or underwear. He clucked his tongue, disappointed at his loss of control. "I haven't even /started/," she growled. "Well I'm disappointed to see that you found Jadzia's temper. Personally, I think she took it from Worf. I never saw the Lieutenant act so brashly before she met that Klingon dunce." Garak folded the cloth gingerly as he spoke. A familiar hurt spilled into Ezri's eyes and she balled her fists. "This has nothing to do with Jadzia, or me." "But I'm talking to /you/, aren't I? I see no one else here," he gestured at the expanse of his shop. "Do you?" "You know, this is exactly the sort of thing I'd expect from you, but I would have never thought you'd be so cruel to Julian," she said, her voice faltering. "I thought the two of you were friends." "Ezri," he said dangerously. The sound of her name on his lips had never sounded so demeaning. "Just because Captain Sisko promoted you and gave you a counseling job, it doesn't permit you to come in here and interfere with things that don't concern you. Especially when I didn't ask for it. I didn't ask for it then, and I'm not asking for it now." He rose from his seat, splaying his hands on the counter to lean over it. Even though a significant distance separated her from him, Ezri felt notably smaller. "I did you a favor," he said calmly, "I did it because I saw that Captain Sisko and his merry band of officers needed their Dax. However diminished that version may be, it was better than nothing. Don't make me regret that decision," he hissed, wrenching the cutting tool and the folded cloth from the counter. "Now leave, and take your meddling nose with you." Ezri hiccuped in shock, helpless to move even when Garak vanished into the storage room. --- O'Brien glanced worriedly over his shoulder. "Julian, this isn't a good idea. I mean, once in a while, sure, but three days in a row--" "Come on," Bashir pleaded. "Last time, I promise. I really need it and you're the only one who understands," he added. "Keiko will kill me," Miles hissed. "I'll take the blame. Just come," he begged. "Miles? Who is it?" Keiko's voice spilled from the bedroom and Miles blanched. "Another time," he whispered, closing the door on Julian's face. Miles exhaled in relief, looking up when Keiko appeared in the doorway. "Who was it, dear?" "Julian," he sighed. He rolled onto the couch and added, "Again." Keiko pressed her lips and kneeled down beside the armrest, massaging his temples. "Maybe you should have gone," she said. "No way!" he cried. "Three days in a row is too much. If he can't find a way to deal with this without sucking down the pints of Guinness, then I'm doing him a favor." He sighed again, his shoulders relaxing. "Besides, I was getting tired of hearing about that bloody Cardassian." "Miles!" "What? Look, if he's going to be a bastard about this, that's not my bloody fault, is it? I have half a mind to lock them up in a room and let them beat the hell out of each other. Maybe after then they'd talk." "Ezri was going to talk to Julian today. I guess whatever happened didn't quite work out the way it was meant to." Keiko stilled her hands, frowning. "What happened, anyway? I mean, it can't be because you and Julian became friends, is it?" "No, this happened way before that. I don't know why. The way that man talks, you'd think he'd have told me /some/thing by now." Keiko looked off, shaking her head. "Maybe they had a fight." Miles laughed, his eyes closed as he enjoyed Keiko's ministrations. "Darling, you're talking like they're married. Men don't have 'fights'." Keiko glared at her husband and pinched the skin on his temples. He buckled, inhaling sharply. "Miles Edward O'Brien, you can be so ... /dense/ sometimes." She left the couch, muttering something about the 24th century and changes. O'Brien sat up, calling after her. When the door to the bedroom closed, he slumped back incensed. "What the Hell, it's not like Julian's personal life has never disrupted my marriage before," he grunted. --- Kira felt the press of the table on her forehead and was relieved for a fraction of a second before Ezri's droning brought her back to reality. Odd that even with her arms pillowing her face and the constant piteous moaning wasn't derailing the Trill whatsoever. Finally she looked up, her eyes begging with desperation. "Ezri, Dax," she admonished, "Prophets bless you, you're a good friend, but I have a date with Odo in an hour, and I haven't showered or chose what--" "Nerys," Ezri puled, "You promised we could talk about this." "That was two hours ago," Kira sighed, rubbing her forehead. When she saw the look on the Trill's face, she sank back into her arms. "But, you're right. Odo will understand." /We've only planned this date for the past two weeks. I'm sure he won't mind that I sit here and bitch about Garak's manners,/ she thought bitterly while Ezri launched into a fresh volley of complaints. /I'll kill that bastard with his own needles,/ Kira added quietly. --- Odo drummed his fingers on the bar top, glancing at the entrance anxiously. Attracted by the Changeling's concern, Quark joined him. "Waiting for someone?" Odo looked at him sharply, indignant that the Ferengi had picked up on his motive. "Don't you have glasses to clean?" he barked. "Rom has that under control," Quark grinned slyly, the gesture frozen when the sound of glass shattering erupted from the back room. Quark tilted his head, muttering something about genes and stupidity. "Constable," he said, leaning over the counter. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't today the day you and Major Kira--" "Quark, I believe Rom is in need of your services," the Shapeshifter intoned dangerously, moving away from the counter. He tapped his combadge. "Odo to Nerys." There was a long pause, long enough to cause Odo to wonder if she hadn't perhaps fallen asleep, then, "/Kira here. Odo, I'm very sorry - I know I should have called, I'm--"/ /"It's my fault!"/ Odo squinted, startled by Ezri's voice chiming into the transmission. "Lieutenant?" "/Nerys is on her way. I'm very sorry. Ezri out."/ Odo sighed, shaking his head and forcing himself not to try and understand what was going on. Quark passed by him, leering. "Women trouble? That's the problem with Hu-monoids. Now if they were naked--" "Quark!" The Ferengi sprouted some wisdom and beat a hasty retreat. --- O'Brien sighed, head bowed in resignation as he rang the chime to Julian's quarters. He shifted the bottles he had brought in his arms and rang it again when there was no answer. A very slurred '/go away/' filtered from the comm line. "Julian, come on. Keiko's pissed off at me, and I'll be damned if I'm not making you pay for it in the morning. Open the bloody door." /"I said go 'way!"/ "Bloody hell, he started without me," O'Brien muttered in shock. Louder, he said, "Julian, I will swear off this friendship! If you had half a mind you'd let me sleep on your couch, 'else you can be damned sure I'm not speaking to you after this." Julian muttered something about friends and consequences and fell back asleep. O'Brien was about to ring the chime again when a sound caught his attention. He looked over his shoulder, glaring, and that's when the bottles went flying. "What the fuckin'--" he yelped. --- Odo glared at Kira. Ezri was smiling hesitantly between them. "You don't mind?" she squeaked. Odo continued glaring. Kira stared back, daring him to say a word other than 'no'. So Odo looked at Ezri and narrowed his eyes. "Of course we don't mind. Don't we, my little hasperat?" he edged between his teeth, offering his arm to Kira. Kira took it, still glowering as they ascended the stairs toward the holosuite. When Ezri lagged, Odo lowered his voice and asked Kira, "Why is she coming with us?" "She's upset." "I see." "Garak's been yelling at her again." "I see." As they entered 20th Century Paris, Odo muttered something about needles and Cardassian corpses, completely ruining the mood. --- The next morning, Captain Sisko crossed his arms and stared at the murmuring crowd gathered in his office. "Major?" Kira stiffened at his side. "Yes, Captain?" "Why are all these people in my office at seven in the morning? I hope you realize I haven't had coffee yet." "We ... have something to discuss." "I see. I can't wait to know what it's about." He squinted, noticing that O'Brien sported a black eye. He couldn't wait to know his story either. "People," he boomed, and a hush fell over the audience. "It's early, I'm tired, I want the abbreviated version." "It's Garak, Sir," Ezri spoke up. "And Bashir," O'Brien rumbled. Sisko cocked an eyebrow. "I'm listening." "Someone has to do something about them. This is getting out of hand." "That Cardassian bastard gave me a shiner, for Pete's sake!" O'Brien yelled. Sisko glowered at him. Softer, he added, "I was hanging around Julian's quarters and he thought I was there to ..." Kira smirked. "Well don't just stare, say something! We're all here for a purpose," he said hotly. Sisko closed his eyes as, all at once, people started complaining about the various ways Garak and Bashir's 'relationship' was interfering with station life. He elevated his hands quietly and the voices dwindled to an indignant murmur. "Has anyone tried to talk to them?" Kira made a 'cut throat' gesture, but Ezri had already launched into a tirade about that very topic. Sisko sank in his chair, rubbing his face. Space time anomalies he could handle. Tribbles he could handle. Dominion wars he could handle. Domestic problems were an entirely different ball game. He sighed when Ezri finally lost steam. "I see we'll need some more drastic measures." O'Brien and Kira simultaneously perked up. "And no, that doesn't involve throwing Garak out of an airlock," he added. "Sir?" an Ensign spoke up. Sisko looked at him. "What's your connection?" "I asked Doctor Bashir about Garak one day, and he proceeded to give me a prostate exam--" "Go on," Sisko, along with every other men in the room, winced. "Maybe we could set up an intervention." Kira frowned in confusion. "That sounds Cardassian." She brightened. "Does it involve torture?" "No, no, it's quite harmless." Kira looked disappointed. "We put them in a room, and we spend however many hours it takes to convince them that what they're doing is killing everybody's social life." "I'm not sure they'll be receptive to that kind of stimulus," Ezri said hesitantly. "What the Hell," O'Brien muttered. "I'm willing to give it a go. Provided we can invoke the gag perquisite on Garak if it gets out of hand." "Permission so very granted," Sisko exhaled, ushering the people out of his office. "Be ready at noon. I'll mediate." "Wait!" They all turned to the single occupant left in the room. Kira was shaking her head. "We have it backwards. Garak and Bashir won't listen to us - they haven't done that yet. I say we set up that room and leave BOTH of them there to sort out their problems." A positively wicked gleam shone in her eyes. "We tell them that we won't let them out until they've agreed to play nice. And if THAT doesn't work, I say we send Worf in there and do a little damage control." O'Brien muttered something about ideas and stealing. Sisko continued to usher the people out of his office. "Splendid, good idea, now I have work to do, and if you'll excuse me," he smiled, pressing his palm on the panel. The door closed on the officers, now murmuring excitedly among them, and he exhaled sharply. "I wish the Prophets had warned me about this." --- Kira glanced at the chrono. "How long have they been in there?" "I don't know, I lost count after the first three hours," O'Brien drawled, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Most of the crowd had dispersed, occupying their time with each other while they waited for the two 'friends' to patch things up. "The yelling has stopped," Odo pointed out. "Thank God for small miracles," Ensign Lorov said, banging his head on the wall. "I just wish they'd give us a sign already." Kira paced in front of the door. She stopped, looked at the time again, then shook her head. "I'm going in there." Everybody climbed to their feet, gathering around the door as she inputted her code. "I don't care if they're tearing each other apart in there but I'll be damned if I have to wait a minute more while--" she stopped, dead in her tracks. Julian looked up, flushing a bright shade of red as the door opened. A sea of faces stared in shock at the couple. Garak, sweating quite a bit, gritted his teeth. "Do you MIND?" he roared. "What the bloody Hell is this?!" O'Brien barked, incensed. "You bastards are in here rutting like roosters in heat, while we're waiting out here thinking you two needed a fuckin' time-out!" Julian, trying to gather the shreds of his uniform over his privates, glared at the crowd. "I thought you /knew/!" he cried. Garak, who was less modest about his nudity, straightened up. Julian winced, bending slightly at the stomach. "Honey, don't do that when you're still--" "Oh, my apologies," Garak demurred, his hand disappearing behind the doctor. Kira made a face. "What the ... what is going on?!" Ezri shoved her way through the crowd, yelling. "You made me believe you two were fighting!" "We were!!" Julian and Garak said in unison. Kira massaged her temple. "So ... why are you ..." "This is the Cardassian way, I thought you were versed!" Garak trained accusing eyes on O'Brien. "Surely, Chief, you knew ..." Miles blanched when every eyes turned on him. "I didn't ... put two and two together ... I guess," he shrugged. Odo reached in and grabbed the handle. "In the future, keep your twisted practices to yourselves," he hissed, slamming the door. Julian slumped in Garak's arms. "I thought they knew," he said, shocked. "With all the bickering going around, I thought they were planning an orgy. It might have been fun ... but I suppose you'll do for the moment." "You suppose I'll *do*?!" Julian cried. "Well, you're not exactly Cardassian material," Garak smirked. Julian roared in indignation and threw himself at the tailor. Both fell to the ground in a tangle of sweaty limbs, and soon they were laughing. --- The End