I'm Just a Part of You

Preparations

It'd taken Ezri hours of meditation to find her calm place.

Without access to her quarters, she couldn't complete the ritual to get rid of Joran. Six hours of sappy romance films had been enough to silence him, however, even if she'd been forcing herself to watch.

She was more than slightly surprised when Sisko walked into the holding area, followed closely by Gard.

"I've got some good news, Old Man. You're not free to go." Sisko said. "But you're no longer a suspect, either."

Ezri gave her friend a rather confused look.

"We need you to help us with a plan. We'll keep you as safe as possible, but I can't promise everything will be fine." Sisko continued, looking the frighteningly young Trill up and down. He could barely imagine putting Jake in such a situation, and even though Dax was more than three centuries older, she had fewer than nine months on his son in this body.

"What do you need me to do?" She asked.

"Be yourself. And spend another night in here, while we set a few things up."

"Do I want to know?" Ezri asked.

"Only that we're shaking the branches, old man."

"So that's a no." She replied.

"We've decided on one thing, though. That it's time for us to do something for you." He clicked his fingers.

Rom entered the room, carrying a table, followed closely by one of the Ferengi staff from the bar hauling a pair of chairs. Quark soon followed, to her surprise. He was carrying a candelabra, complete with a pair of candles, with a tablecloth folded over his shoulder. A sly wink from Quark drew an answering smile from Ezri, as the Ferengi slipped something under the table cloth when no-one else was looking.

Before long, the corner of the holding area outside of her cells had been dressed into something resembling a French restaurant, straight out of Emony's memories. To her surprise, Garak dipped in, briefly, holding a dress. She remembered once having spent a few seconds admiring the garment while walking past his shop with Kira.

To her surprise, the forcefield was lowered, and it was handed to her. Garak didn't look away, which left her more than slightly disconcerted, given that he had a photographic memory. Sisko and Gard had turned their backs and were talking in low voices. Shrugging, she skinned out of her jumpsuit above her shoulders, sliding the dress on almost immediately. Once it was in place, she stepped out of the jumpsuit, before ducking down and offering it to Garak with a sly grin on her face.

The Cardassian tailor, refusing to be outdone, accepted the somewhat aromatic jumpsuit with a broad smile. ""Well, my dear Ezri, I don't think that's your colour in the slightest. And could I suggest some small adjustments, around the shoulders and maybe a little around the hips, as well?" He asked. "Although I will say that prison jumpsuits are rarely the most fetching garments, in my experience. Something about institutions seems to always dampen true style. Alas, we can only try, us artistes."

Even Ezri couldn't quite keep in the grin at the somewhat droll commentary.

"Now, about the accessories." Garak said. "What would you say to some nerve agents? Perhaps a small flamethrower... or how about a weaponised hat?" Without preamble, he pulled out what looked like one of the little hats from Vic's.

Much to her annoyance, Joran picked that moment to revive from his sappy-romance-induced coma. "Why not all three?" He asked. "And you can test them on this nuisance." He glared at Gard.

Ezri couldn't think of what to say for a few seconds. "Why would I want any of those for what I assume is supposed to be romantic meal?" She asked.