Here's my DS9 Mary Sue.  It's kind of long and probably TOO 
Mary Sue, but I had fun.  Probably PG or PG-13 `cause I use the 
f-word once.  Other than that, pretty innocent.


MARY SUE, MATCHMAKER
M. Power" rhiannon@europa.com



"Julian?  Julian Bashir?"
     
Julian, on his way to the Replimat, turned around to find a 
vaguely familiar-looking redhead studying him with a puzzled 
frown.  "Do I know you?" he asked politely.
     
"Gods, I hope not!"  The woman laughed.  "That is, I kind of 
hope you don't remember me.  Rhiannon Blackbird - we were at 
Academy together for a while.  I was a couple of years behind 
you."
    
Ah, yes, he remembered now.  She'd been a little heavier then, 
and she'd had blonde hair that she wore in a chin-length bob, 
but Julian most definitely remembered her.  She'd had a crush 
on him that made his pursuit of Jadzia look like a nodding 
acquaintance.  "How are you?" he asked warily.
     
"Pretty good, considering."  She patted her stomach, and Julian 
noticed for the first time that she was pregnant.  "And you?  I 
hear you're the doctor to know around this place.  You handle 
prenatal?"
     
"I handle everything," Julian replied.  "I'm just on my way to 
the replimat.  Care to join me?" he asked impulsively.  He 
remembered that Rhiannon had been all right when she wasn't 
chasing him, and given her present condition and the wedding 
band on her left hand, he felt it was safe to assume that she 
was no longer interested in him.  Besides, Garak was tied up in 
his shop, and Julian had gotten used to having company during 
lunch.
     
"I would *love* it.  Now that I'm not having morning sickness 
anymore, it seems like I'm hungry around the clock!"
     
Soon they were seated in the replimat.  Julian couldn't help 
staring at Rhiannon's plate, which she'd heaped high with 
everything from *gagh* to Idanian spice pudding.  A tall glass 
of something brown and carbonated sat on the tray next to the 
plate.
     
"Coca-Cola," she explained.  "Old Terran drink.  They stopped 
making it early in the 21st century because people were using 
it to remove corrosion from batteries - they figured maybe it 
wasn't too safe for stomachs.  I found the formula when I was 
in school."  She grinned.  "I crave this stuff day and night, 
and far as I can tell, the health risks were highly 
exaggerated."  She patted her stomach.
    
"How far along are you - about four months?"
     
"Seven," she said, grinning again at his startled expression.  
"I know, I don't look it.  But listen, you don't want to talk 
work during lunch.  How've you been the past few years?"  They 
spent the rest of their lunch catching up; Julian discovered 
that Rhiannon had been married for five years and that she was 
on DS9 with her husband, a Starfleet engineer who'd just been 
assigned here.  She'd put her own career as a geologist on hold 
for a while.

"I don't need *two* full time jobs," she said as they carried 
their leftovers to the matter reclamation unit.  "When the 
Little Passenger gets to the age where he's less labor-
intensive, no pun intended, I'll go back to work."
     
"Well, my dear doctor!"  Julian jumped, startled, at the sound 
of Garak's voice behind them.  "Who is your lovely companion?"
     
Before Julian could speak, Rhiannon had turned and was shaking 
hands with Garak.  "Even though I feel like I'm smuggling a 
Klingon jiak-bird egg under my shirt, I'm going to assume you 
mean me.  Rhiannon Blackbird - Julian and I were at the Academy 
together.  And you are?"
     
"Elim Garak, humble tailor, at your service."
     
"Oh, I hope you mean that.  Nothing I have fits anymore - I'm 
reduced to wearing my husband's shirts."

"Come with me, my dear.  I have some lovely things already made 
up that I'm sure will suit you."  Julian blinked in surprise as 
Garak and Rhiannon swept off down the Promenade, chattering 
like old friends.
     
For some reason, the thought of Rhiannon and Garak as friends 
terrified him.

***
     
"Well, everything appears to be progressing normally."  Julian 
ran his tricorder over Rhiannon's stomach once more.  "The 
baby's heartbeat is strong, he's the right size for his 
gestational age... what did you and Garak talk about?"
     
"What?"  Rhiannon glanced at him askance as she slid off the 
table.

“Well, you just seemed to be getting along so well yesterday, 
I thought..."  Julian's voice trailed off.
     
"You mean, did we talk about you?  Yes, we did."
     
"Oh?"  Julian feigned nonchalance as he transferred the data 
from his tricorder into the main database.  "How so?"
     
"I told him about how you desperately wanted to fuck him, what
else?"
     
"You WHAT?"  Julian nearly dropped his tricorder.
     
"Calm down, Julian, I'm joking!  Gods, and they say pregnant 
women are touchy!  Are you always this gullible?"
     
"I don't think that's funny."
     
"Oh, fine, be that way.  He just wanted to know what you were 
like when you were younger."
     
Julian's heartbeat slowed marginally.  "What did you tell him?"
     
Rhiannon shrugged.  "What could I tell him?  All I knew about 
you from the Academy was what paltry secrets my friends and I 
could find out through a deft combination of spying, discreet 
questioning, and petty theft."
     
Julian turned and shot her a grin.  "I wondered what happened 
to my first-year biology notes."
     
"They ended up in my notebook with 'Rhiannon Blackbird-Bashir' 
scrawled all over them," she retorted impudently.  "I told 
Garak that things had come to a sorry pass when an ex-member of 
the Obsidian Order had to resort to asking me for information."
     
Julian gestured for her to sit down.  "He denied it, of 
course."
     
"Of course," she said.  "I told him if it made him happy, I'd 
pretend I couldn't tell.  He's in love with you, you know."
     
Julian did drop his tricorder this time.  "Would you please 
stop that?"
     
"Stop what?"
     
"Saying these outrageous things with no warning.  Were you this 
bad at school?"
     
"Worse," she said happily.  "Impending motherhood has made me 
soft.  It's true, though.  I have a sixth sense about these 
things – I think maybe my grandmother had an affair with a 
Betazoid."
     
"Uh-huh."  Julian did not want to pursue this line of 
discussion.  "Now, have you been having any unusual symptoms 
since you last saw your doctor?  Any pain, spotting?"
     
Rhiannon shook her head.  "Just an overwhelming feeling of 
terror when I wake up in the middle of the night and realize 
that I'm going to be somebody's mother."
     
Julian smiled.  "Well, *that* is perfectly normal.  I always 
tell my patients, it's the ones who aren't scared that I worry 
about."  He laid aside the tricorder.  "Any questions?"
     
"Yeah.  What are you doing for dinner tonight?"
     
"Pardon?"
      
"My husband wants to meet you, and he can't get away to come to 
the appointments with me."  She struggled to her feet.  "Are 
you free, say around 1900?"
     
"I'll be there," Julian found himself saying.

He hoped he wouldn't regret it.

***

After dinner, Rhiannon's husband Jeff excused himself to study 
plans of the station's layout.  "Don't be up too late," he 
admonished Rhiannon with a kiss.  "You need your rest."
     
"Yes, dear," she replied with exaggerated meekness.  After he 
was gone, she sighed and leaned back.  "I'm glad he looks after 
me, but I wish he'd remember that I'm having a baby, not 
becoming one."
     
"It's obvious that he cares a great deal about you," Julian 
replied, sipping his raktajino.
     
"Yeah.  I'm pretty lucky," she said with a gentle smile.  "So, 
what are you going to do about Garak?"
     
Julian choked on his drink; when he recovered, he gasped, "I 
thought I asked you not to do that anymore!"
     
"Old habits die hard," she replied with a shrug.  "Besides, I 
think it's something you'd be just as happy to ignore if you 
could, and that's not fair to either of you."
     
"First of all, Garak and I are friends..."
     
"Jeff and I are friends, too, and you see where that got us."
     
"And *only* friends.  Second, even if he *is* - *does* feel the 
way you think he does, if he wanted me to know, don't you think 
he'd tell me?"
     
"He's a *Cardassian*."  Rhiannon sounded exasperated.  "He 
isn't going to tell anyone anything he doesn't have to."
     
"Besides," Julian continued as if she hadn't spoken, "I'm not 
even attracted to men, Cardassian or otherwise."
     
"So?"
     
"What do you mean, 'so'?"
     
"I mean, *so*, as a doctor, you of all people should be aware 
that the potential for bisexuality exists in varying degrees in 
all of us, and that just because you haven't been attracted to 
men before doesn't mean you can't be, and that the person 
inside is what's important, whether they're male, female, human 
or Cardassian."  She leaned forward - at least, as far forward 
as her condition permitted.  "He's dyin' for you, Julian, I'd 
bet my Coca-Cola formula on it."
     
Julian just stared at her.  Could it be possible - was Garak 
really *in love* with him?  Admittedly, there had been times 
when he'd thought the tailor was flirting with him, but he'd 
written it off to an overactive imagination and too many nights 
alone.  Now, he had to wonder.  And, he had to ask himself, why 
was the idea so... intriguing?
     
He stood.  "I hope you won't think me rude, Rhi, but I think I 
need to take a walk."
     
Rhiannon only grinned at him.  "I was thinking you might say 
that."  She rose and accompanied him to the door.  "Good night, 
Julian.  I'd wish you good dreams, but I don't know that you'll 
be getting all that much sleep."  She shut the door on his 
protests.
     
How long Julian wandered the corridors of the station, he 
didn't know; he only knew when his path finally led him to 
Garak's quarters.  He stopped - what was he doing here?  He 
turned to go, but stopped when the doors slid open with a soft 
whoosh.
     
"Doctor!  What a pleasant surprise!"
     
Julian took a deep breath and turned around.  "Good evening, 
Garak.  I - I think maybe we need to talk."

***

The next morning, Rhiannon breezed into the tailor's shop.  
"Good morning, Mr. Garak!"
     
Garak, dozing with his head on the counter, only mumbled 
something that could either have been "Good morning," "Go 
away," or "I've never been so sore in my life."
     
She slid onto the stool next to the counter.  "I take it my 
idea worked?"  She grinned.  "Told you it would.  Like I told 
Julian, I have a sense for these things."
     
Garak raised his head.  "Much as I hate to admit it, you were 
right, my dear."
     
" 'Course I was.  I told you I think I'm part Betazoid.  I 
could feel it the minute you got within ten feet of each other, 
and I never even met you before.  You owe me, I believe, two 
maternity dresses and an original design evening gown once the 
baby's born?"
      
Garak steepled his fingers under his chin.  "You drive a hard 
bargain, my dear, but you're right.  I do... owe you."


Finis