by Phyllis Shelton-Ball
With thanks to Siubhan and Plaidder for the germ of the idea.
THE KARAOKE DRAG
"Sixteen candles ... " Garak's voice was wavering on the high notes, and Dr. Bashir shuddered and turned away. From the front row of tables, Ziyal was looking up at the Cardassian tailor adoringly, her hands clasped under her chin. Quark's had been arranged into a twentieth-century nightclub for the evening. Colored lights cast lurid shadows in the corners and a silver ball spun overhead, making hundreds of tiny sparkling spots of light on the darkened walls.
"It's enough to make you want to ... " Julian muttered and started as he almost fell over Dax.
"Hurl?" Jadzia asked, her lips threatening to quirk into a grin.
"Yes," Julian snarled. "Not that it's any of your concern."
Jadzia lifted an eyebrow, leaned back against the bar and draped an arm around Kira's shoulders. "Show-off," Julian muttered before moving toward the door.
"Going somewhere?" Sisko asked in his silken growl. "The party's just beginning. And I *did* want everyone here for Ziyal's birthday. Since Dukat hasn't been back, I think we need to make her feel very welcome and help keep her mind off her father."
Julian forced himself to relax and give Sisko a smile. "I was just going to the ... "
"Little boy's room?" Sisko gave him a careful once-over. "You *do* need to do something about that eye-liner. You look like a raccoon."
Julian glared at him, then said defensively, "It's *supposed* to look this way. I'm a late 20th-century singer named 'Cher.' She wore eye make-up like this. Besides, the theme for the party was *your* idea."
Sisko looked smug. "Actually, a friend of mine gave one of these 'drag' parties before. And I've been reading up on late twentieth century fads. This 'karaoke' thing sounded like lots of fun. So I decided to combine the two." He pushed back the curls that surrounded his face, nearly knocking the wig out of place.
"And you are supposed to be ... ?" Julian asked politely, surveying the burnt-orange sequined jacket over a black-satin scoop-necked gown, its empire waist highlighted by a band of matching sequin work that was repeated at the hem.
"I'm ashamed of you, Doctor." Garak had come up so quietly that Julian jumped. "Surely you came across this performer while researching your own costume?"
Julian shook his head, his eyes drinking in every detail of Garak's costume -- the six-inch silver glitter platform heels, the oversized platinum-blonde wig, the skin-tight black-and-white leopard-print spandex capri pants, the hot pink sheer ruffled blouse over a truly amazing cleavage. The two-inch-long neon-pink fingernails were edged with tiny rhinestones and looked capable of tearing apart a Scaranthian swamp rhino. "No, and I didn't come across yours, either, I don't think," he mumbled.
Sisko clicked his tongue. "Doesn't recognize Aretha Franklin -- that's one thing. But how could anyone miss Dolly Parton?" he wondered.
Bashir admitted, "Actually, I was busy. I asked Sedi to come up with a costume for me when she worked out her own." His Bajoran nurse was was wearing a scruffy brown wig and a sheepskin vest and denim bellbottoms that matched Bashir's outfit.
Kira's unmistakable laugh cut through the noise and Bashir turned to see what was going on. She was wiping at her eyes, trying to keep from smearing her "Boy George" make-up. Dax's white-gloved hand was slapping the bar helplessly, her other, bare hand covering her mouth in a vain attempt to hide the laughter. Julian started to ask "What's so funny?" and then the crowd shifted, so that he could see for himself. Dax pushed up her mirrored sunglasses and went off again, as Bashir turned toward Sisko, only to see him guffawing, one hand holding on to his wig.
Quark stood there, hands on hips. "What's wrong? I followed the illustration exactly." He rounded on Rom. "Did you tamper with the holodeck history program? If you've done something ... "
"No, no ... " Sisko gasped. "The costume is perfect. It's just that you ..." and he doubled over again.
The Ferengi ears looked very much out of place behind the wide black sideburns. Quark's eyes peered out from under a pompadour hairdo with a duck-tail almost hidden by the white rhinestone-studded collar. The white jumpsuit's seams were also studded with silver-set rhine- stones, with the studding continued around the flared bell-bottoms. The front was partially unzipped, revealing a blue silk scarf underneath. Rom held the mother-of-pearl-inlaid guitar Quark had handed him.
"But Quark," Kira giggled. "You were supposed to come as a *female* performer. That's what 'drag' means."
"There weren't any human female singers who performed in the nude," Quark snapped. "And I refuse to portray a woman who goes against the law."
"Thank heavens," Dax whispered. "The thought of Quark naked ... "
Bashir felt a tug on his sleeve. It was Sedi. "Could I talk to you, please?" she asked and pulled him into a corner. "I hate to do this to you but Riyel's sick and mother's asked me ... and if I leave right now, I could make the shuttle to Bajor."
Bashir shook his head. "What?"
"It's my nephew Arn's naming ceremony. My brother had asked my sister Riyel to be one of his sponsors, but she's come down with a fever, and mother just sent a message to see if I could make it. The temple's been reserved for weeks, and all our family is coming." She looked imploringly at Julian. "I know this means we won't be able to do the number we'd planned, but your character *did* go solo after the divorce. It shouldn't be too difficult to find a song ... "
"Go on," Julian told her. "I'll manage something." He beckoned Sisko over and explained the situation. "I'll have to see what I can find, so I'm going to the terminal in sickbay. There's a replicator there as well, so that should take care of the costume."
Sisko grinned, "If I recall, she had some doozies from the footage I've seen of her Bob Mackey period."
As he hurried out, Garak hailed him. "Leaving so soon, Doctor?" Julian didn't bother to respond. Garak looked after his retreating back, his expression unreadable as always. Sisko said softly from behind him, "Friendships are like flowers. They require attention or they die." He walked away as Garak was opening his mouth to reply.
Julian allowed his proud carriage to slump forward as he entered the safety of sickbay. He'd almost said something to Garak back there, almost let him know how much he missed their lunches, their friendly arguments about literature, the time they spent together. How much he missed ... Garak. And he'd thought the Cardassian tailor was interested in more than just friendship. He shrugged -- apparently he had a thing for teenage Cardassian girls.
"Computer," he said, "Show me 'Cher' Sarkisian Bono Allman. Late twentieth century." Remembering what Sisko had said, he added, "Bob Mackey period." As the images scrolled by, he sat up and whistled softly. Then the one of her aboard the wetwater naval ship came up and Bashir grinned wickedly. "Play accompanying music," he said, and listened. He shook his head. "Song list and play a verse of each." He asked the computer to print the lyrics of the one he intended to do, and spent a good long while puzzling over how to get into the body suit, then ordered a light powder lubricant for his skin, a pale caramel to match his own coloring. The replicator spit out make-up components, adjusted for his own skin tones and the computer showed a diagram of how to apply it. He spent several minutes practicing the walk, then made his way back to Quark's.
Kira was just launching into her number, something about a chameleon as he entered and the group's attention was focused on her. Garak was whispering to Ziyal and Bashir's mouth tightened involuntarily, his full lower lip tensing. Sisko was next, and Bashir grinned at his selection, a song called "Natural Woman."
Odo, who had flatly refused to wear any kind of costume, was serving as master of ceremonies. He announced, "Our next performers are Sedi Jarelle and Julian Bashir as 'Sonny and Cher'."
Julian cleared his throat and waved. "There's been a slight change. Sedi had to leave unexpectedly, so I'm going solo." He made his way to the stage, a hooded black cloak concealing his outfit. After a quick whispered consultation with Odo, the houselights went down. Bashir handed him the cloak, clutched the microphone tightly and waited. As the opening to his song blared out of the speakers, the lights came up, focusing on Julian. Thick black curls framed his face and fell nearly to his waist in back. A navy officer's cap was tilted rakishly over one eye. A gold-studded black leather jacket covered a black, almost sheer body stocking with a black-sequined g-string covering the most strategic spot. The black leather boots that came to mid-thigh had five- inch spike heels.
As the music came thundering through the speakers, Julian sang directly to Garak. "Signed, sealed, delivered, I'm yours!" Garak again whispered to Ziyal and Julian strutted down the steps of the stage, managing to keep time and remember the lyrics, despite the pain in his heart. When he finished, the audience was on its feet, cheering, clapping, whistling, but Julian didn't care. He handed the microphone back to Odo, and headed toward the bar, intent on getting as drunk as he possibly could. Julian was miserably certain that he'd just made a total fool of himself.
He didn't notice Ziyal leave with Jake Sisko; nor Garak leave a few minutes later. His commbadge beeped and Julian pulled it out of his pocket. "Dr. Bashir," he said.
Garak's voice sounded strained. "Could you please come to my quarters? I need to see you right away." Julian sighed and set down his glass. At least the Cardassian wasn't planning a public scene. He made his way to the renovated rooms behind Garak's shop and tapped the entry chime. The door slid open to reveal a dimly-lit room. Garak was nowhere to be seen. Julian stepped inside, a little nervously, wondering what was going to happen. Garak stepped out of the sleeping area, a towel around his neck, wearing a long forest-green robe, open to the belted waist. Julian said nothing, just stared down at his aching feet, waiting for the harsh words he was sure were coming.
Instead, Garak's voice was soft as he asked quietly, "So, Julian, were you playing a game, or what?"
"I-I-I don't know what you mean, Garak."
Garak threw the drink in his hand against the wall, the shattering glass making Julian jump. He strode forward, grasped Julian's head between his strong hands, and for one swift, terrified moment, Julian thought, <<He's going to crush my skull>> before Garak's mouth came down on his, his arms going around Julian's slim hips to crush them agains him. Garak lifted his head and said hoarsely, "Oh, I think you do, Doctor, or am I mistaken?"
The blood was roaring in Julian's ears and he teetered on the unsteady heels before Garak's strong arm caught him. His fingers traced the indentation in Garak's forehead and Julian breathed softly, "Oh, no, Elim, not mistaken at all," his heart lifting in joyful relief as his lips found Garak's again.
THE END