A/N:For the 30-Day Writing Challenge on Tumblr. Prompt: "A green shirt"
Elim Garak was setting out his line of spring blouses, and one was wrinkly.
He stepped back to see the full display, hoping he could avoid taking the offending shirt down for ironing.
It was green, the color of life and new growth. Even though nothing about the station's environment truly changed throughout the year, Garak had noticed that Bajorans tended to like following their planets' seasons. It must give them a sense of connection to home, he thought as he smoothed the blouse's collar. How quaint.
Just then, he felt a bump against his leg.
Startled out of his reverie, he peered down. A brown-haired Bajoran boy was gaping up at him. The child couldn't have been more than 3 or 4. He was clinging to the knee of a slender Bajoran woman, who held a bundle of fresh flowers under her arm.
"I'm so sorry," the mother gushed. "We really need to look where we're going. I'm sorry, I—"
She reached down to steer her boy away from Garak, and nearly dropped the overstuffed bouquet.
The boy squealed, "Eeeee!" as a scatter of loose blooms and multicolored petals cascaded around him.
"It's quite all right," Garak assured the mother calmly, kneeling to retrieve some of the fallen posies. "Accidents happen."
She looked up at him with wide eyes, the same way a scared rodent looks at a wild beast. Gingerly, she accepted the handful of rescued flowers he offered.
Garak chuckled to himself. "We don't all bite, you know," he told her gently.
The woman's shoulders eased, but the guarded look didn't leave her hazel eyes.
"Thank you, sir," she said, puffing out her chest, "for picking up my flowers." She started to walk away, her skirt swishing as she moved.
"Have a pleasant day," Garak said.
The mother nodded acknowledgement, guiding her toddler back towards the Promenade. But she'd barely taken three steps before the child pulled away from her and ran back to Garak, stooping to pick up a single pink blossom the Cardassian had missed. He held it up to Garak, a simple offering from a child's sticky hand.
Garak carefully accepted the flower. He lifted it to eye level and straightened a bent petal.
"Thank you, young man," he said.
The child beamed, dimples appearing in his round cheeks.
"Come on, Ren," called his mother, a few yards away. "We're going to be late for school."
Ren chased after her, then turned and gave Garak a final wave before the two disappeared around the bend.
Garak glanced back at his display. He wasn't going to iron the shirt after all. He tucked the flower into the pocket of the green blouse and headed back inside his shop.
A/N:Wait, I wrote a non-romance story? Check my temperature… (JK I actually loved this. Let me know in the comments if you want more like it.)