Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
Author's Note: Garak/Bashir
Julian's ABCs
D is for Drunk
"Another shot of tequila please!" Garak sang to Quark. "Pretty, pretty please?" He giggled, tossing his head back.
Quark rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, as long as you're willing to pay for it." He tipped the bottle of Earth alcohol over Garak's glass. He cast a sideways glance at Julian, who was seated next to Garak. "And you, Doctor Bashir?"
Julian blinked slowly. He was managing to contain his drunkenness a bit more than his partner, but he was still severely intoxicated. Quark seemed to be spinning in front of his face.
"Uh, no thank you." He pushed his empty shot glass toward the ever-moving figure of Quark.
Julian suddenly felt a heavy arm drape across his shoulders. "Wh-what are you doing, my dear doctor?" Glancing to his right, Julian saw the frowning face of Garak looming next to his shoulder. Their faces were so close, Julian could smell the booze on his breath.
Lightly resting his forehead against Garak's, Julian sighed. "We need to get you out of here." He stood, swaggering a little, with Garak's arm still around his shoulder.
The two drunken men stumbled out of Quark's, in the direction of the living quarters.