Star Trek: DS9: What Friends Are For

Chapter 2

"When did you send that signal, Garak?" the weary doctor asked, watching Garak closely.

The tailor looked up and regarded Bashir. "Signal?" he said simply, staring blankly.

Bashir groaned and touched his still injured head. "The... distress signal," he reiterated, wondering if that addition to the information would jog Garak's memory.

The Cardassian nodded. "Ah, yes," he said in realisation. "It was last night, I believe," he answered Bashir's question.

Doctor Bashir nodded and then harrumphed. He sighed out of frustration and tiredness.

Garak cocked an eye ridge in response to his friend. "What is it, doctor?" he asked, sounding truly concerned.

Bashir did not doubt the tailor's level of care put into the inquiry. "I wonder when Deep Space Nine will receive our distress call," he muttered.

"Oh, my dear doctor," Garak exclaimed jovially. "You always were such a positive soul!"

Bashir threw him a wry smile. "Garak, I'm not in the mood for this."

The tailor frowned, but only lightly. "You misunderstand, doctor," he elaborated. "I was being sincere."

Bashir raised an eyebrow at the sound of that. "You, sincere?" Bashir exclaimed in half-mock surprise.

Garak chuckled.

"I really don't know when you're being serious and when you aren't, Garak," Doctor Bashir continued. "You did work for the Obsidian Order." Bashir watched as his friend's expression change slightly at the sound of those two words. He added, "Garak?"

However, Garak only shook his head. "My words were said with every sense of sincerity," he maintained to the doctor. "I was being truthful."

The mischievous glint in the Cardassian's eye told Bashir that he should be wary. "Yes, but truth is in the eye of the beholder."

Garak smiled - beamed - at the sound of someone using his own words. "That it is," he agreed, "but, nonetheless, I meant what I said. You have always been such a positive person. Why are you acting so negatively now?"

Bashir was quiet for a short while, considering and mulling over his friend and now inquisitor's question. He found himself smiling. "We have crash landed, Garak," he said bluntly, as if they both needed reminding of their unfortunate situation, "on a random planet with a..." He trailed off, thinking of a way to explain their surroundings "less than appealing atmosphere," he finished.

Garak nodded. "Yes, doctor," he said agreeably. "But our distress call will be found. There would be no reason to worry about us being stuck here on this 'random' planet indefinitely."

"Anyway," Bashir said defiantly, waving his hand as if to signal a change of subject, "talking about it is unlikely to make Deep Space Nine locate our distress beacon any sooner."

Garak smiled at the doctor. "That's another thing I find most endearing about you, doctor, your sense of humour is rather good."

Bashir nodded in appreciation.

"For a human," Garak added.

Bashir slapped his thighs and started to get up, leaving his resting place. Garak tutted at him. "Doctor, you should rest."

Bashir stood anyway, held his hands on his hips. "I'm the doctor, Garak," he declared. "I think I'll be fine. You're the tailor, the gardener, the soldier, the spy."

Garak inclined his head slightly in appreciation of Doctor Bashir's list of his respective occupations. "If we don't get a reply within an hour, I will look for food."