Chapter Text
“Are you nearly ready, Julian?” Garak checked himself once again in the mirror by the apartment door, where he’d been standing for several minutes already. “We’re late.”
They were not late, nor were they running late. They would be late if they didn’t leave in the next five minutes, but as it stood now they were not late and Garak had no right to be sanctimonious just because he already had his shoes and coat on.
“Just about," said Julian from the stair, where he sat changing his footwear. "I’ve only got to put on my shoes and get the kanar.”
“Putting on your shoes and getting the kanar is not ‘just about’.”
“Hmmmph. It absolutely is.” Jaw set in annoyance, Julian collected the ornate silver and purple bag containing a bottle of dresket, a thick blue kanar traditionally served at this time of year, from the side table. “There. I’m ready. Let’s go.”
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into going to hers. She’s a terrible cook. We could have had her over here, like last year,” Garak grumped as the door swished shut behind them.
“She wanted to have us. She said it only made sense that we alternate years, and I agree with her.”
“I’m outnumbered, then.”
“Yes. Yes, you are. What’s put you in such a mood?”
“I’m not in a mood.”
“Fine, you’re not in a mood. Where are we picking up the cake, Hokat’s or Kezeni’s?”
Garak sighed. “It’s not a cake, Julian. It’s...”
“Zvzsda.” Julian stumbled over the name of the traditional Solstice dessert of the service classes that, frankly, he tended to avoid mentioning because it was so difficult to pronounce. “I know, I know. So? Which way?” They had stepped out into the late morning sun. It was still warm enough for Julian not to require an outer layer, but Garak shivered and flipped his collar up.
“Kezeni’s,” said Garak, starting in the direction of the confectioner in question.
“Great.” Julian followed, hoping that his response had sounded just the right amount of sarky. Garak was certainly in a mood, and for who knew what reason. He normally enjoyed visiting Mila, and tolerated her cooking, claiming, to her face, that he was more than willing to endure it in exchange for her company. They were very alike, Garak and his mother, and would trade affectionate barbs and political discussions over lunch, then at dessert commence the reminiscences and what Julian had eventually realised was shop talk, all the while playing cards and enjoying kanar and some dry, dusty Cardassian sweet or other.
“Care to tell me what’s bothering you?” Julian easily caught up with Garak and fell into step beside him.
“Julian, I told you. Nothing is bothering me.”
“Uh huh. That’s why you’re being so charming this morning?”
Garak was certainly allowed to be in a mood if he wanted to, but Julian was sure as hell not willing to be unfairly sniped at. He knew from experience that the best way to lift Garak from these cranky moods was to annoy him into talking. It usually wasn’t pretty, but Julian had long ago not only accepted but embraced the fact that he could annoy for England. And, anyway, they had to talk about something on the short walk to Mila’s by way of Kezeni’s Family Bakery.
“I’m the same as I am every morning.”
“Is that so? Yesterday morning you couldn't stop talking about Shrosti's new enigma tale. Actually, I think you were nearly late for work." Julian jabbed Garak in the ribs, pointedly, with his finger.
"Julian, you really aren't as funny as you think you are."
"If you were in better spirits you'd realise that I'm exactly as funny as I think I am." Privately Julian thought this was actually true. "Anyway, my point is that this morning you're behaving completely differently. Are you sure your rokassa juice was caffeinated?"
"Really, Julian, are you going to continue like this inside Kezeni's? Do I have to go in by myself?"
They had reached the door of the bakery, a small family business formerly situated, as Julian understood it, on the ground floor, but, due to various post-Fire problems with sewage, vermin, and who knew what else, now relocated one floor up in the same building. Julian was tempted to say that yes, he was going to continue like this in Kezeni's if Garak was going to be so stubborn, but decided to defer to Garak, as he usually did, on correct Cardassian behaviour in public. It was a complex dance and even if Julian suspected that Garak fell on the more...traditional side when it came to what was and was not acceptable, he was certainly aware that arguing with one's partner in public was considered extremely gauche.
"Fine, I'll be good," he agreed, and they proceeded up the stairs, bypassing the tiny lift. Garak really was in a mood, and Julian doubted anything would change before they arrived at Mila's. However. There was no way Mila Garak would tolerate a mood, not from her son and not on Solstice. Julian knew that for this predicament he'd soon have a dedicated sister-in-arms. Or practically-mother-in-law-in-arms, which was even better. Julian allowed himself a private smirk as they stepped into the sweet warm air of Kezeni's.