Author: Saklani
Title: A Slight Misunderstanding
Codes: Garak/7 of 9, Bashir
Series: DS9/VOY
Rating: PG
Beta: Plato!
Summary: Seven visits Garak to get a new wardrobe and misunderstands his behavior.
Disclaimer: PARABORG owns all. I make no money, I swear!!
Feedback: I would appreciate it. to Saklani@wildmail.com
Posting- Sure! Go ahead, just let me know where ya put it!
Author's Notes: Ooh, I had fun writing this one!! I am not fond of the busty one, but her character can be fun to play with!! I hope you enjoy!

A Slight Misunderstanding


If you're going to be part of everyday society, you need to get some new clothes, Tom Paris told Seven of Nine. You can't go everywhere in that spray painted catsuit.

Seven gazed down at her attire. I see no reason why this outfit is inappropriate.

Paris sighed. It is for some functions. I doubt Starfleet Command will approve if you show up in that for the Voyager Return Celebration. The top brass tends to be a little.... uptight.

I do not understand.

Look, I heard there is a tailor on Deep Space Nine. I am sure you can get an outfit from him.

I still do not see the point, Seven said.

Just trust me on this one, ok?

Seven gave the young Lieutenant a long, appraising look.

Paris threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat and walked away.
**********

Seven of Nine gazed at Garak's Tailor Shop. She had never seriously considered taking Lt. Paris' advice, but now that she was here, Seven was curious. The former Borg entered the shop and gazed around.

May I help you? A Cardassian appeared from the back of the shop and approached Seven.

I am in need of an outfit for a formal ceremony, Seven said.

What kind of ceremony?

The crew of Voyager is being honored for their return from the Delta Quadrant.

the Cardassian said in a knowing way, a Starfleet ceremony. I suggest something prim and proper.

Such as?

Well, would you prefer a dress or a pants suit?

Seven stared at him. I have no idea.

Garak maintained his best customer face. Well, perhaps I should show you some examples. Please follow me, Ms....? he trailed off and looked at her.

You are not going anywhere. How can I follow you?

I was inquiring of your name, Garak said.

You are mistaken. You asked me to follow you.

I.... nevermind. Would you be so kind as to tell me your name?



Garak looked confused. Seven? Seven what?

She looked at him as one regards the senile. My name is Seven.

Garak started to question again and then thought better of it. Ms. Seven, I have an extensive....

Just Seven.

Garak refrained from grimacing. ....an extensive selection of outfits to choose from. I am sure we can find something that will suit you. Please follow me.

Seven walked behind the counter with Garak. He turned on his monitor and began displaying an array of choices. Just tell me when you see anything you think might be suitable.

Seven studied the clothes on the screen with distaste. She saw nothing that appealed to her. After about a hundred pictures flashed by, she said, I am not sure what to choose, perhaps you should choose for me.

Garak sighed inwardly with relief. He went back to the outfit he thought would suit Seven best. For the banquet, I believe you will look stunning in this simple, but elegant, formal gown.

Seven surveyed the Cardassian's pick. Her nose wrinkled in distaste. I do not think that is an appropriate choice.

Garak stifled a growl and went to another picture. This is a rather stunning...

I would prefer to go naked, Seven interrupted, than to wear such a ridiculously colored...

Ridiculously colored? I will have you know that this Bolian silk is most fashionable.

Seven raised her eyebrow.

Garak took a deep breath. Of course, we can change the color if you like. I have several vibrant shades of Bolian silk. Or the Alderien velvet might...

Why is the bodice cut in this way? Seven demanded, pointing at the screen.

Garak did growl this time. Ms Seven...



...this would go a lot faster if you would cease to interrupt me every time I try to say something. The bodice is cut like this to be modest and still show you at your best.

I believe this would be uncomfortable.

That's what a tailor is for, to alter the clothes so they are not uncomfortable. Now, perhaps a forest green shade of...

Do you have any silver cloth?

Garak clamped his mouth shut and struggled mightily with his temper. Silver cloth? Only in the tackiest of...

Show me some.

Garak gave her a long, cold stare. Ms. Seven...



Garak's control snapped. You are the most insufferable woman I have ever met!! I refuse to do business with a person who does not even know enough about common courtesy to allow me to finish a sentence!! I suggest you go to the ceremony dressed in a gunny sack. In that way, your outfit will match your manners- they will both be horrible!

Seven looked at him calmly. If you are attempting to initiate courtship....

Garak bellowed.

You are exhibiting all the signs of Cardassian courtship- irritation, insults....

I am exhibiting all the signs of a man who is being driven out of his mind!! Now, will you leave on your own or do I have to throw you out?

Such an action would be highly inadvisable.

Oh really?' Garak growled dangerously. He took a step toward Seven....

....and found himself half way across the room on his back. His spine ached from its impact with the floor.

a shocked voice cried. A familiar figure in blue rushed to his side and started scanning him with a medical tricorder. What happened?

The Cardassian was far too angry and mortified to answer him.

I rebuffed his attempt to copulate with me, Seven said, walking over to them.

Garak began snarling in fury.

Dr. Julian Bashir stared at the woman. Copulate with you?

Yes. Mr. Garak attempted to initiate sexual relations....

Garak screeched from the floor.

Calm down, Garak. You have some serious contusions on your back. You're only going to make them worse if you don't stop thrashing, Julian said, trying to still his friends movements.

Doctor... Julian, I beg you, get her out of here or I'll do something drastic.

All right, all right, I will. Just promise me you'll lie still.

Garak nodded his emphatic agreement.

Julian stood up and faced the former Borg. I must ask you to leave now, please. I'm afraid you misread the whole situation. Garak was not trying to initiate intimate relations. On the contrary, you annoyed him so badly, he wanted you to leave.

Seven stared at Julian. I see. So, my appointment with Mr. Garak is terminated.

Julian smiled slightly. That's a very apt way to put it.

And my outfit?

I suggest you find another tailor, Julian said.

Seven raised her eyebrow implant. She turned on her heel and sauntered out.

And goodbye to you, Julian muttered after her. He knelt down by his patient. Well, I guess this hasn't been the best start to your day.

Garak snorted. She must be the coldest and most ill mannered woman I ever met.

I guess that's because she was once a Borg drone.

Garak raised his eyeridges in surprise. A Borg?

Julian smiled at him. Yes, didn't you notice the implants?

I did think they were rather an odd fashion statement.

Julian chuckled and gave Garak a hypospray. There you go. Let's get you up.

Garak allowed Julian to help him to his feet. He straightened his clothes, all the while aware of the doctor's amused look at him. He finally gave in to his curiosity. What is so amusing, Doctor?

I was just thinking, it's a good thing she didn't decide to take you up on your offer of copulation... I'd still be piecing you back together.

The tailor glared at Julian, but he could not melt the grin from the Terran's face. He finally sighed in resignation and began straightening his clothes racks. Perhaps you're right at that.

See you at lunch, Garak?

Of course, Doctor.

Good. I look forward to it. Bashir left the shop.

Garak went over to his computer and turned it off. He had had enough of being a tailor for today.

As he closed down his shop, he wondered what Seven would wear to the ceremony. An image of her in a cargo crate struck him as particularly appropriate.

Garak started down the hall, heading for his quarters. Suddenly, a slim figure appeared beside him.

Mr. Garak, a gratingly familiar voice said, I wanted to apologize for our slight misunderstanding.

The Cardassian's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Slight misunderstanding?!!! SLIGHT
misunderstanding?!!! He ran down the hall, shrieking, SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING??!!! over and over.

Seven of Nine watched him go. I shall never understand social interactions.

THE END