Chapter 10

Charmed

Wordlessly, I walk behind him. I had disassembled Ella and put it back into my bag, I hear the latinum slips jingling to my steps. Garak isn't going too fast or too slow; you can tell quite a bit about a person by the way they walk.

I have concluded that he is very apprehensive. His steps are assured but there is a lightness to them that concludes Garak is always suspecting trouble. Shoulders are forward when his neck is pointed somewhere else, his usual posturing, then there are his pauses in mid-step.

I was not a favorite among the Bajorans before but they did tolerate me and now, I do not believe that they like me at all. Their stares tell me that they believe I am nothing more than filth. Who knew that walking closely behind a Cardassian could be so displeasing? I step closer to Garak in rebellion to their delicate proprieties.

Garak knows that I am behind him. Yet, he has stopped several times in our walk for what I can assess is to make sure that there is no danger before continuing on. I almost let out a huge sigh as we come upon his tailor's shop.

Thank the gods. Now, I can kill him.

Yet, Garak halts outside the door, "Now, Ms. Steele-"

I quickly point out in correction, "Please, if you are going to simply be 'Garak' then I would like to purely be 'Erica.' I hope that you don't mind."

"As you wish, Erica," is his sharp reply, the Cardassian has become a bit touchy, "The fabrics are already here. They are in the back if you would like to inspect them."

"I would but I believe that you wanted to take measurements?"

I watch his face and think to myself that he looks somewhat terrified but suddenly, he breaks out into a smile, "Oh, yes. Please follow me to the back then."

Entering the shop, I find myself being confronted by a nicely arranged establishment. Garak has his tailor's table in the middle, dressing rooms along the sides, and many of his arrangements on the walls then another doorway at the end of the shop. My hand wanders out to caress the colorful fabrics of the clothes as we pass through the shop, all of his designs are very exceptional. To my eye, creative and quite fashionable.

"Are you coming, my dear?"

I didn't realize that I had discontinued my trailing. My hand drops from the creamy Bajoran cotton shift that I was touching, "Of course. It's just that your shop is very most salient, I find myself wavering between being more than impressed and completely overwhelmed by your talent."

"Such a compliment and you have yet to purchase anything."

Garak seems to be back to his old self, but I feel that now he is even more devious. It is not hostility or anger. He does not make me sense any oncoming violence but underneath the surface, I suspect that he is having more difficulty than usual with controlling himself. His eyes sting my skin with their hidden intentions and again, I feel that flutter of butterflies. Yet, he stands at the open doorway with a innocent expression.

If I do this right, he will be dead in minutes and will have never suspected that this was coming. One less nuisance to deal with.

I smile coyly and shrug as I walk by him. I didn't lie when I told him that I thought his shop was impressive, it is. It seems to be one of the last places on the station that it is still Cardassian with comfortably dimmed lights and elevated heat.

I hate to say to this but I almost feel like I am home.

A small hallway takes me to the back where I come upon a room almost as large as the shop; there is labeled drawers on every wall with a large table in the shape of circle surrounding the a round cushioned seat. The room may only be ten feet tall, yet the drawers go all the way to the top. Garak enters and strides over to a drawer on the bottom marked, "Silk."

Garak pulls the drawer open and takes out the four rolls of Triaxian silk. I count the colors in my mind as he sits them on the table, Burgundy, Emerald, Aqua, and Black. I don't recall why I chose these particular shades but I am glad that I had chosen simple colors.

"I was surprised to hear that Quark had acquired Triaxian silk but now that I know it is for you," Garak remarks lightly while running his hands over the red fabric, "It is no longer surprising at all."

"I have been searching for Triaxian silk for quite awhile. Quark just happened to owe me a favor."

"How quaint. Would you please stand on that chair then I can begin taking your measurements?"

Nodding tranquilly, I move next to the small chair. Garak offers his hand for assistance and as I touch his skin, I shudder lightly at the cold feel of his palm. Watching his face at my reaction, it seems that he isn't surprised nor hurt. I smile warmly at him for his understanding, I was unsure of how he would take my response.

Releasing my hand as soon as I am balanced on the chair, he turns away to select a measuring instrument from the table. My eyes wander around the room as he begins scanning me from head to toe, "Is there a certain style that you would prefer?"

"No. If truth be told, as long as I am able to move my legs and arms freely then I will be content."

"Versatile and fashionable," muses Garak, I look down to spot him smiling humorously, "I think that I can arrange something to that sort."

I lift my head back up and continue to gaze around the room indifferently. The company of this Cardassian man, whether tailor or spy, is quite comforting. Then without warning, an epiphany strikes me. I think that I have found the problem, Garak is so close to home that I feel some sort of affection for him. That has to be it. I don't believe that I am actually attracted to him for any other reason-

Oh, damn. That is it. Attraction. To him. Dukat is going to kill me.

Shaking the thought out of my head, it draws his attention without me noticing, "Is something wrong?"

"No," I answer quickly accompanying a smile that is in no way meant to be friendly, "I just feel a little dizzy."

"I am almost finished," drawls Garak, deep in concentration then he steps back with his hand out to me, "That should do it."

Gripping his hand brings that coldness back to my body. I do not shudder. Instinctively, I hold on tighter to his hand, an old trick of coping with discomfort. Stepping down, I try to tread softly and a plot comes to my mind so I fall towards him in fake helplessness.

Garak automatically pulls me towards him to stop my clumsy descent. I somehow end up with his arms clasping my waist and my shoulders are propped against his chest. Sighing in relief of not injuring myself, I let my legs settle under me, "Well, thank you. I didn't think that you would actually catch me."

I regain my footing and touch his arms to release me. A few moments pass and Garak isn't loosening his arms. A tingling of electricity runs through me, bringing an edge of excitement then a moment of panic catches me and I realize that this is the moment of truth; this is my chance.

Now, he dies.

I turn around in his arms and face my target. This time, those cool Cardassian eyes are wide open and he is gazing intensely at me. Garak's expression is completely focused on me, I am always amazed at how people look at me before I kill them. Some are surprised, some are happy, but when the time comes then they know the truth; the reason for my delight. All of it because of the smile that I wear. A glimmer of triumph and without mercy or guilt; all of that etches itself in my features as I prepare to make my name in Cardassia.

"Either, you are extremely injured, my dear, or my dashingly good looks are leaving you speechless."

Of all the things that he could have said to me and all of the manners that he could have expressed; he had to do this. I have never failed to eliminate a target. I have never been distracted or fooled into letting one go, and none of them have ever thrown me off. But by some sick twist of fate, Elim Garak has killed my intensity with a mere flirtatious phrase and an amused smile. My smile falters as my strength for the kill dies down and I realize that I have been hoodwinked by my own weak human emotions. Humor, guilt, and fondness.

Just as charming as a Klingon? I agree.