Chapter Text
Garak carefully smoothed the fabric where it lay on the table. It wouldn’t do to have the fabric wrinkle, not at this point in the process.
A lack of smoothness now, would mean the cutting wouldn't be smooth either, jagged edges that could wreak havoc with a seam – or ruin it altogether.
The same could be said for life. Careless wrinkles led to complications. Complications which could be fatal – or at the least, uncomfortable.
Far better to take the time to smooth a cloth – or make a plan, take a situation into account – than deal with having to remake a garment – or try to save a life.
Pity the Federation didn’t see things that way. Always rushing in, or staying out, standing aside until nearly the moment had passed.
And then it was up to the tailor to fix things once again.
There was a human saying – measure twice, cut once – a saying he actually agreed with, tho’, if he were so inclined as to use it, he might change it to ‘smooth three times, measure twice, cut once’.
To make it more applicable to the tailoring trade, of course.
The fact that, just today, he’d had more than enough of humans and their tendency towards superiority, had nothing to do with it.
Of course.
As Garak began to cut the cloth on his workbench, he allowed himself a momentary anger, letting it dissipate before it reached his hands where they touched the delicate fabric.
After all, it wouldn’t do to ruin everything now.
There was too much to lose.
