Title: Sticky Wicket Series: DS9 Rating: R? Pairing: G/B Writer: Charlene Vickers Other: First Line Challenge Archive: Please do --- "Don't give me any of that bonding crap!" The Bajoran shop assistant raised an elegantly curved eyebrow at Garak's angry outburst, her hand hovering over the tube of PrimoBond XJ TriEpoxy LubriSolution the Cardassian had slammed onto the counter. "Sir, if I recall correctly, you had asked for something that would facilitate bonding." His tone of voice was sour in the way that only a Cardassian voice could be. "Then you recall incorrectly. I asked for a lubricant, and that," he growled, pointing at the tube, "isn't a lubricant, is it?" "PrimoBond XJ lubricates as it bonds, sir. In fact, it lubricates while providing up to one metric tonne of bonding strength. Studies by the Bond's Institute show that PrimoBond acts both as a superior metal lubricant and --" "METAL LUBRICANT?" the Cardassian shouted. "You Gul-forsaken idiot, I had asked for a PERSONAL LUBRICANT!" "I -- I didn't know you were --" But Garak was too angry to listen. "Do you know how it feels to wake up in the middle of the night with a penis glued inside your rectum? Hmmm? Do you know, young lady, how humiliating it is to end up in sickbay where anyone who strolls in can see you being pried apart? Do you *know* what corrosive solvent feels like when it's smeared all over your most private and sensitive bodily organs?" He slammed his fist into the counter. "Do you?" "No, but -- I had thought --" "Of course you don't know," he continued, cutting her off in a blue fury. "You haven't had some *idiot* store clerk sell you metal bonding fluid when all you wanted was a simple tube of lube!" "I -- I --" she continued to stammer. White veins rose from his neck ridges as he continued to shout. "Do you have any idea what it's like to have Chief O'Brien *and* Major Kira giggling at you while a nurse pries Doctor Bashir's cock from your ass? While the Chief makes jokes about the Doctor's 'sticky wicket' as half the Promenade peeks in for an up close and personal look?" He turned and pointed in the general direction of the Infirmary. "I am quite sure that Quark took pictures. He's probably selling them on the Net as we speak. Julian and I are the laughing stock of the quadrant and it's *your fault*!" She swallowed, suddenly afraid. "I'm so sorry, sir. I just assumed you needed the bonding fluid for your equipment -- I mean your tailoring equipment!" Her face flushed red with embarrassment as she reached for a box under the counter and pushed it towards Garak. He regarded it with trepidation. "Is this more metal lubricant? Are you planning to weld us together permanently?" he asked sourly. "No, sir," she replied in a small voice. "It's our entire stock of personal lubricant. Please take it, with my sincere apologies. If I had known...." Garak's lips were a thin line. "Well, now you do." He scooped the box up and turned to go, but stopped. His eyes met the assistant's; his voice was low and menacing. "May I suggest strongly that you never make such a mistake again?" She nodded, once, and watched warily as he left, his gait stiff as he strolled across the Promenade to the turbolift. Perhaps, she mused, some of the money Quark had bribed her with would pay for a nice, quiet vacation on Bajor, far away from the tailor and his friend -- at least until the entire matter blew over. "Bloody spoonhead," she growled to herself. "Serves the bastard right anyway."