Disclaimer: All characters and places mentioned belong toParamount. Don't sue me, I'm a poor middle school student. All I own are a few seasons of DS9.
Author's Note: This is a mindless bit of fluff I wrote in 20 minutes. Enjoy.
Garak rose from his bed early one morning feeling fresh and invigorated. He dressed quickly and helped himself to a mug of steaming hot, tangy fish juice. He gently inhaled the putrid odor of the drink and set it down with a sigh of contentment. Dumping the rest of the juice into the recycler he picked up his tailor kit and headed for his shop. He asked the computer for lights and settled down behind the counter with a pair of trousers that needed hemming. After quietly stitching for a few minutes he peeked out the door. Usually he would see Constable Odo patrolling the Promenade at this hour, but the Constable was nowhere to be seen. Garak returned to his sewing with a frown. But then his curiosity got the better of him. He put down the trousers, strolled out of his shop and locked the door. Then he set off at a brisk walk down the Promenade.
Garak looked everywhere for Constable Odo and could not find him anywhere. Nor could he find any members of the senior crew besides Captain Sisko, who waved cheerily at him while heading to Ops. Garak was beginning to worry slightly and decided to go to Quark's to ask the Ferengi if he had seen anything. With a touch of unease he made his way to the bar.
When Garak arrived at Quark's, he was surprised to see Rom, Quark's bumbling younger brother, selling drinks behind the counter. Is everyone gone but me and Sisko? Garak thought. Then a huge ruckus erupted from the kitchen behind Rom. It was such a dreadful noise that most of the customers jumped up in alarm. Garak heard Quark's distinctive voice thundering, "Hush up and stop scaring my customers away!"
After that Garak heard the slam of a door and the noise quieted down. Feeling quite disturbed, he sat down at the counter and asked a busy Rom for a glass of Kanar. When the Ferengi had his back turned, Garak quickly ducked behind the counter and stole into the kitchen. The sight that met his eyes almost made him dash back out again.
Major Kira was vigorously chopping fruit and slopping fruit juice and pulp all over the table she was working on. Chief O'Brien was shoveling flour into a measuring cup and spilling it all over the counter and the white apron he was wearing. Commander Worf was pouring miscellaneous ingredients into a large bowl and scattering most of them on the floor. Nog was sliding across the flour-strewn floor pushing a trolley at full speed. He hit O'Brien square in the back and caused flour to be sprayed about in every direction. Doctor Bashir was pouring milky liquid into a pot. He accidentally tripped and poured most of it onto the floor. Constable Odo was hopelessly trying to mop up everyone's mess while dodging Nog's trolley. And there was Quark, standing on top of a chair, waving a wooden ladle and roaring orders at the top of his voice. "Stop cutting up my supply of plums! Get the flour into the cup! Keep the ingredients in the bowl! Slow the trolley! The mops are in the closet!"
Through all the chaos the Ferengi finally spotted the stunned Garak. He motioned to the Cardassian and settled down to explain.
"The crew and I are making a cake for Captain Sisko's birthday," Quark explained briefly. Then he swiftly returned to his chair, sending Nog and his trolley flying through the air. As Constable Odo helped the young flour-covered Ferengi to his feet, they were both bowled over by Major Kira carrying her offering of chopped fruit to the mixing pot. Garak decided to lend a hand. He swept a chef's hat onto his head and began to set up the oven for the cake. As Bashir triumphantly carried the pot to the oven, Nog tripped and knocked over the bag of flour. The kitchen suddenly turned into Winter Wonderland. Bashir neatly slipped on the flour and dropped the entire cake on the floor. Everyone gathered around in a circle, looking at the spilled pot and the flour-covered Bashir hastily trying to stuff the ingredients back into it. "Now what do we do?" Kira asked, breaking the still silence only broken by Bashir's scrabbling. "We make another one," Quark answered. He immediately stood on his chair and began shouting orders. Everyone scuttled into action.
Garak stood by the table and stared at their creation. He thought the cake resembled a lump of mud. Others began voicing their opinions. "I think it looks like melted chocolate," called Nog. "Nah, it looks like…like…," Bashir stammered. "It looks like a load of dung." Even Quark admitted it was true. The cake was so lumpy and mushy it did not even have a shape. "Can we make another one?" Garak asked, still gazing at the misshapen cake. "Nope," Quark answered, "Nog spilled my entire supply of flour." Everyone groaned. "We can't give the captain this one! It looks like we made it out of mud!" cried O'Brien. "I have an idea," Constable Odo said suddenly.
Captain Sisko was quietly reading a pad when there came a buzz at his door. "Come in," he answered. The entire senior crew plus Quark and Garak came in. Quark was carried a covered plate. "Happy Birthday!" the crew exclaimed as Quark lifted the cover. They had cut the cake into the shape of a baseball and frosted it with white and red frosting. They all cut it into slices and began to sample it. Garak sat still, chewing thoughtfully. "You know what?" he told the crew. "I think it tastes like dung."
The End