Unexpected Gifts

Title: Unexpected Gifts.

Series: Star Trek DS9

Pairing: Garak/Bashir

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 2546

Warnings: Holiday fluff.

Beta:

mithrel did a super sonic beta of this, half of which I promptly ignored. Sorry, dear. So any mistakes are totally my own damn fault.

Feedback: Yes please.

Disclaimer: I don't own any Cardassians or Doctors. *sigh* Not mine. At all. Oh, I only wish.

Notes: I started this fic 3 years ago. Three. Years. Ago. Yeah. I've been looking at it with woobie!face every Christmas since then and this year I decided enough was enough. Better late than never, I suppose!

Summary: It's Christmas, and Doctor Bashir really doesn't want to go caroling.

Link to this fic on LJ, on DW and on AO3.

* * *

Garak was busy arranging displays in his shop, when Dr. Bashir came literally bouncing through the doors.

“Happy Christmas, Garak!”

Smiling at his enthusiastic friend, Garak moved behind the counter to continue picking out items for display. “Pardon me if I misunderstood your lengthy explanations at our last lunch, but I thought Christmas wasn't until tomorrow?”

Leaning on the counter, smiling so broadly Garak wondered just how many teeth Humans could possibly have to show, Bashir explained: “Yes, but you see, tonight is Christmas Eve and tomorrow is Christmas morning, so actually it is Christmas. But apart from that, you can say Happy Christmas any day of the Christmas month.”

Garak's hands stopped in the process of folding a shirt and jokingly moaned: “Christmas lasts an entire month? How do you live through it?!”

Bashir laughed and was about to expand on the subject, when the sound of singing seeped through the door of the tailor shop. Considering the light mood, Garak was genuinely puzzled when he saw his guest pale at top speed and croak: “Oh no... Quick, hide me!”

Before Garak could reply, Bashir dove behind the counter and clutched his knees to his chest in an obvious attempt at making himself as small as possible. “If they come in, don't tell them I'm here!”

Eye-ridges raised about as high as they could go, Garak fought the urge to send the doctor a very questioning look. If he was really hiding, then it would be no good alerting everyone to the fact that there was someone behind his counter. So he returned to folding and arranging the clothes.

“Don't worry, doctor, I'm the soul of discretion. But why, may I ask, are you cowering on the floor when there is some obviously Christmas related merriment going on right outside the door? I thought you loved Christmas?”

Peeking out from his shelter, Bashir could just see the group of singing people passing the window right outside. He immediately pulled his head back and inched closer to the astonished tailor. “I do... just not... that part of Christmas.”

Checking that the singers were well past the shop, Garak ventured a look down. “Why-ever not?”

He was met by wild brown eyes and frantic movements to turn away and not reveal his hiding place. Garak rolled his eyes. “You can come out now, doctor. They're well and gone.”

Peeking out again, confirming his words, Bashir finally stood up and met the curious gaze of his friend with an apologetic one. “Sorry about that, Garak. It's just... Miles has been badgering me for the last week about going carolling with them. The only problem with that is that I can't sing! Miles seems to think that because I can wail along with him when I'm drunk out of my mind, I would be worth listening to in a choir!”

Garak's face was all friendly humor at the doctor's complaints. “Now, my hearing may not be as advanced as yours, but I'm sure most of the people just passing by were a lot less suitable for a choir than you would have been.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Bashir sighed. “That's not the point. I just don't want to parade around the Promenade, advertising just how horrible my singing voice is.”

The tailor smiled wryly at that. “It didn't seem to bother Mrs. O'Brien in the slightest. I swear, that woman could shatter my windows!”

“Yes, well, the main difference between Keiko and I, is that she doesn't care at all what other people think, as long as it's all in good fun.”

Garak took his chosen items to an empty mannequin, Bashir following closely, as if hoping the tailor would protect him from the hordes of merry carolers. “Seems like an enlightened opinion. Especially considering that voice.”

Huffing, Bashir crossed his arms even tighter around himself in a mock expression of horror. “That was nothing. I walked in on them the other day rehearsing “Baby It's Cold Outside”. It's a duet and it's a nice song when sung properly. I can't say that was the case in the O'Brien household.”

Immediately looking a little ashamed about bad-mouthing the chief like that, he quickly added: “Not that they're all bad. Miles has a decent singing voice and thankfully, Molly seems to have taken after him and not her mother.”

Garak, who never shied away from an obvious opportunity to abuse the chief, was not deterred in the least by the doctor's smoothing over his own words. “I suppose we should all be thankful for that. If only we could actually hear the girl and her father over the mother...”

Turning to Bashir, Garak was pleased to see his young friend smile broadly before finally succeeding in wiping the amused grin off his face. But his eyes were still shining with mirth as he followed Garak back to his counter, when the mannequin was all arranged.

“I feel like there's a conspiracy going on to get me to expose myself. I think Miles has asked everyone on the station to try to convince me to go with them. Even Major Kira called me a coward the other day! Like she would go ridicule herself like that!”

Garak put the last of the clothes on his counter away and gave the young man his undivided attention. “Well, if you want my opinion, I don't think you would be ridiculous at all. Especially not considering the company you would be in. But! If you insist on avoiding them, feel free to hide in my shop when-ever the need arises. I can honestly say I find the whole thing immensely amusing!”

Bashir smiled so brightly Garak felt he could bask in that beaming, rather than the sunlight he so rarely saw these days. “Thank you, Garak. I might just take you up on it. Since I'm not on duty in the Infirmary for the next three days, Miles will surely find a way to hunt me down if I don't have a good hiding place. And the last thing I need right now is Keiko wailing: “Joy to the World” at me. Maybe she thinks she can torture me into submission...”

Apparently forgetting all about his guilt from abusing his best friend, Bashir winked at the tailor, making him chuckle. Oh, this holiday was indeed merry!

“So!” Garak continued. “What exactly are your plans for this holiday? I believe you told me it was customary to spend it with family or friends.”

Rubbing his neck as if he was uncomfortable, Bashir took his time to answer. “Well... Miles did invite me to join them tomorrow morning to exchange gifts, but frankly, I'm not too keen on it. For all I know they might drag me out caroling after the gifts. And... I promised my mother I would call her tonight. Captain Sisko was kind enough to offer his secure channel for it.”

“Oh? I thought that channel was meant for very important Starfleet business only!” Garak commented with a sly grin.

Bashir didn't smile back. “Yes, well. After my father went to prison, my mother has been very lonely and... I suppose the Captain has been a little paternal towards me lately. I guess I should be thankful.”

Garak frowned. That certainly didn't sound like gratitude to him.

“And it will be very nice talking to her in real time,” Bashir continued. “A call to Earth on the common channels might be a little delayed or choppy. A lot of people like to call home around Christmas and it puts strain on the feed.”

“Forgive me for saying this,” Garak started carefully. “But you don't seem all that happy about it.”

The doctor started as if he'd been lost in thought. “Oh! Oh, don't get me wrong, I really appreciate the gesture. It's just... I dislike special treatment, but I feel I can't really say no. My mother really needs to hear from me.”

Nodding, Garak straightened a couple of things under the counter and started pulling up orders on his view-screen.

“Well, if you find yourself in need of a hiding place again in the next few days or even if you just feel like visiting, do drop by any time. I don't intend to close up shop for a holiday I don't celebrate.” Garak winked at Bashir and delighted in the way he cast down his glance and gave every impression of being flattered.

“Actually...” Bashir trailed off, unsure.

“...Yes?” Garak prompted.

Bashir looked up and met Garak's questioning gaze, still looking nervous. “Would you mind if I gave you a Christmas gift? I realize it might be presumptuous of me, and perhaps even a little rude, since you don't celebrate Earth holidays -oh and of course, you don't have to give me one in return-”

“Doctor, breathe!” Garak chuckled.

“Right,” Bashir huffed and cast down his eyes again.

Turning away from the viewer and facing his friend properly, Garak smiled warmly. “Of course you may give me a gift. I may not celebrate Christmas, but only a fool turns away a well-meaning gift from a friend.”

The smile Bashir gave him could just as well have been the gift itself. Garak basked in it.

“Excellent! I'll come by with it tomorrow morning, if that's all right with you?”

“I'll look forward to it,” Garak said and nodded softly. Bashir returned the friendly greeting and with a final look around for any sign of the carolers, he left the shop in long, bouncy strides.

Garak watched him leave, feeling light-hearted. Maybe the Humans did have a point. This Christmas thing really did seem to bring good cheer.

* * *

When Garak arrived at his shop the following morning, Bashir was already there, waiting by the door with his hands on his back and twinkling eyes. Garak felt his mouth go a little dry. The good doctor was certainly in a different mood lately, so even though Garak failed to see the point of a holiday originally devoted to a religion Earth hardly even practiced anymore, he could certainly see the merit of anything that put such a wonderful look on Bashir's face.

“Good morning, doctor! I hope you haven't been waiting too long?”

“Oh, not at all,” Bashir protested, although Garak greatly suspected he was lying.

Smiling at the cheery deception, Garak let them both into the shop and locked the doors behind them. “Really, doctor. I don't even open for another half hour. Are you really this excited just to hand over a gift to an exiled Cardassian who doesn't even have anything for you in return?”

Garak was delighted to see Bashir blush. “I can't help it. I love giving gifts. It was always my favorite part of Christmas and I wish I had thought to give you anything before this. Especially since you still refuse to tell me when your birthday is!”

Smirking, Garak turned on a single lamp, casting just enough light for them to see by, but not make it seem like the shop was open yet. “Not that it ever stopped you. I wonder which day you'll pick this year?”

“I only have 361 guesses to go. I'll get it right some day,” Bashir snickered.

Garak held up an admonishing finger. “Ah, but remember, doctor! The Cardassian year has 411 days. So you'll have to make allowances for that!”

“Not a problem,” Bashir replied with a wry smile. “Enhanced brain, remember?”

“Of which I have yet to see proof, my young friend.”

Bashir snorted with laughter and shook his head, before finally looking up again and revealing what he had behind his back. It was a soft package, wrapped in metallic green paper with a red bow on it.

“Happy Christmas, Garak. I hope you like it.”

“I'm sure I will, doctor,” Garak said. And he meant it. Whatever it was, it would please him. Heck, he would have been more than pleased with just the visit and all the smiles coming his way. But he unwrapped the present carefully, ignoring how his young friend bounced with excitement, until he could identify the item. It was an undershirt made from a light silvery material that slid through his fingers like mercury. Even as a tailor, he had to admit he was impressed.

“Oh, doctor, this is lovely!” He held it up in front of him and it seemed to be a good fit. And if it wasn't... well... he wasn't a tailor for nothing.

“It gets better. It's a thermal shirt from Andoria. When worn against skin, it produces heat independently. It's durable and easily cleaned. Wear that under your clothes and you'll never be cold again.”

Garak was speechless. He knew these things existed, but he's never even seen one. They were ridiculously expensive and Garak was many things, but wealthy wasn't one of them. And calling in his hard earned favors for comfort was not in his nature.

“I... I don't know what to say. How did you get this?”

Bashir smirked. “Turns out Andorian diplomats become very grateful when you manage to cure their rare medical conditions.”

Garak had to swallow a few times before he was able to reply. “Thank you, my dear doctor. Thank you very much.”

“You're very welcome, Garak.” The grin on Bashir's face lit up the room and Garak couldn't help but grin back, feeling stupidly happy for the first time in ages.

Suddenly there was noise outside, breaking the moment. When Bashir realized it was singing he paled and didn't waste a second before diving behind the counter as he had the day before. Garak was right behind him, shutting off the lamp and dropping down beside the doctor, struggling to contain his mirth.

“You locked the doors, right?” Bashir asked worriedly.

“Of course I did. What am I, an amateur?” Garak was having real trouble keeping the grin off his face as they sat on the floor in the dark shop, listening to the horrendous carols outside. Bashir caught his eye and burst into quiet laughter, desperately covering his mouth to keep the noise in. When he finally managed to contain it, his eyes were twinkling again and he looked at Garak with such unbridled joy that Garak momentarily lost all common sense and reached for him.

Cradling the slender face between his hands, Garak leaned in, only just barely catching himself in time to stop the kiss he'd been mere millimeters from taking. He froze, mortified, until he felt Bashir's breath quicken against his lips and before he could move away, the doctor closed the distance and kissed him.

Hiding on the floor of his shop, listening to the most awful singing he'd ever been the unfortunate victim of, an insanely costly shirt slithering to the floor from his lap, Garak could honestly say he'd never been happier.

End.