DS9 - A return from (impromptu) hiatus!
Aug. 20th, 2014 07:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seikilosTitle: 30-Day Cheesy Tropes Challenge - 15. Office Romance AU
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Pre-slash/AU
Rating & Warnings: G
Words: This part 1084, ?? overall
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
Summary: Ever since transferring to this particular building of Deep Space Co., Julian has had an unusual problem: he's getting along too well with one coworker in particular. Now he and Elim are facing the (hopefully metaphorical) firing squad.
Author's Notes: Er...hi. :D;; I didn't mean to go on hiatus, but it's amazing what moving 1800 km, spending two weeks in another country, and apartment hunting will do to your free time. I don't think I'm going to be right up to my usual schedule for a while yet, but I do hope to post more often from now on.
Another contributing factor to the space between updates would be that this was yet another trope that I needed to rewrite. I just wasn't happy with how it had turned out and the decisions I had made about the AU, so there was a fair bit of reworking going on. It's still not my favourite, but I like it a lot more than I did when I first started editing! :D;
"If I didn't know you better, I'd say you truly believe that our illustrious boss has a firing squad lined up in his office," Elim observed.
For once, Julian didn't smile. Considering Elim making him smile was what had got the two of them an invitation to their division manager's office, it was understandable why his sense of humour had gone on vacation. Especially since he had the awful feeling he'd be permanently joining it. The idea of attempting to find a new job in this economy after being fired from his last was already giving him a horrific tension headache.
"I wouldn't be surprised, given how much of a nuisance we've been," he answered back. "We've driven him up the wall and back down again since the day I transferred here. I'm almost certain he nearly strangled us with his bare hands on four separate occasions."
Elim raised a finger. "The key word, my dear Julian, is 'nearly.' Don't worry. Matters aren't nearly so dire as you seem to believe."
Julian rubbed at his face with both hands. "I only wish I could believe that."
God, he wasn't going to humiliate himself further by vomiting all over Ben's office, was he?
He still couldn't get over that he'd come to this point. He'd never thought, before meeting Elim, that getting along well with someone could be a problem. Frankly, his workplace experiences tended to involve the reverse. But he and Elim had hit it off tremendously—so tremendously that often it was difficult to recall their purpose for being in Deep Space Co.'s building. This had not sat well with the regional manager, Benjamin Sisko.
He'd tried to shape up, he really had. A part of him was still a schoolboy, fearing the guilt that came with a lecture, and that had given him plenty of motivation. But then Elim would tempt him with a witty observation, a bit of sarcasm, or, in some cases, by handing over a new book for him to try, and he'd be lost once again. And now they were about to pay the price for their relationship.
Behind the desk a few metres before them, Jadzia, Ben's secretary (and unofficial left-hand woman to Ms. Kira's right), looked up.
"Benjamin is ready for you now," she told them with a sympathetic smile. "Good luck, you two."
"I only regret that I have but one job to lose for my company," Elim said lightly.
Julian was immediately caught between wanting to groan, laugh, and be the one responsible for any strangling going on today. Jadzia faced no such conflict: she chortled.
"Nice one."
"You're too kind."
"Elim. . . ." This was really getting out of hand and they really couldn't afford that!
"I'll behave, Julian. I promise."
Elim smiled. It wasn't his usual expression of good humoured teasing (or, when directed at certain other people, mockery), but something genuine and rare. In spite of everything, Julian returned it. He couldn't help it; Elim just had one of those smiles.
When he looked away from his friend and back to their destination, however, his smile fell off a cliff. Time to get this over with.
Ben took his time starting the conversation—and even turning around—which was almost certainly to make them sweat. He appeared to be calm, but given the force with which he'd been gripping his desktop baseball behind his back, it wasn't surprising when his words were so clipped, they may as well have been snapped off completely.
"I don't need to tell you why you're here."
"No, sir," Julian replied softly; Elim didn't bother to speak.
"And I don't need to tell you what my expectations were."
"No, sir."
At last, he turned. "I warned you both the last time that there would be consequences if you kept being so unprofessional, so I also don't need to rehash our last meeting." He levelled a hard look at both of them. "That's why you've left me with no choice but to—"
"Mr. Sisko, might I interrupt?"
Julian actually covered his face. No, no, no!
"Yes, Mr. Garak?" Ben asked, his tone exceptionally pleasant. That was, just possibly, the worst sign of all.
How on Earth did Elim think this counted as behaving?
He made himself, with great effort, take his hand from his face in time to see Elim step forward with his usual genial smile.
"While it's been a pleasure working with you these past years, lately, I've felt it's time to try something new," he said, so very reasonably. "I've decided that what I'd really like to do is begin work as a clothier. So, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'll be submitting my resignation, effective immediately."
And then, as Julian and his almost-certainly-soon-to-be-former boss stood astounded at Elim's brazenness, Elim turned to Julian.
"I understand this is rather out of your usual scope," he said, still the epitome of reason, "but running a shop alone is rather difficult. Would you, if you'll consent to have me, be my—assistant?"
"I-I'm, um, dreadful at sewing," he managed, instead of a proper answer like, "You must be joking" or, "This wouldn't be remotely good for my career."
"That's quite all right," Elim replied. "Someone needs to handle accounts."
"Well, uh. . . ." He looked to Ben reflexively, though he had no idea what help he was expecting.
The other man rubbed at his forehead. "I'm only going to fire you. Go ahead. As long as you aren't my problem anymore, you can do whatever you want."
With the oddest sense that reality had become detached somewhere, he looked back at Elim. "That sounds very . . . interesting? I suppose I accept?"
"Splendid!" Elim beamed. "I have a lovely bit of property lined up. We'll go look at it first thing tomorrow. Now, we shouldn't take up any more of Mr. Sisko's time—he's a very busy man, after all." He gave a slight bow. "Good day."
"Good day," Julian echoed, for lack of anything else to say.
Ben gave them both an exasperated look, but said only, "Good day, gentlemen. Have your belongings cleared out by three."
As they left the office, Julian couldn't stop himself from darting little glances at Garak. His friend seemed very pleased, but as for himself—it was as if he'd been abruptly cut loose from mooring. Then again, he thought, because Elim was going to be with him all the way . . . the feeling wasn't really very bad at all.
Fandom: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Pre-slash/AU
Rating & Warnings: G
Words: This part 1084, ?? overall
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: Deep Space Nine.
Summary: Ever since transferring to this particular building of Deep Space Co., Julian has had an unusual problem: he's getting along too well with one coworker in particular. Now he and Elim are facing the (hopefully metaphorical) firing squad.
Author's Notes: Er...hi. :D;; I didn't mean to go on hiatus, but it's amazing what moving 1800 km, spending two weeks in another country, and apartment hunting will do to your free time. I don't think I'm going to be right up to my usual schedule for a while yet, but I do hope to post more often from now on.
Another contributing factor to the space between updates would be that this was yet another trope that I needed to rewrite. I just wasn't happy with how it had turned out and the decisions I had made about the AU, so there was a fair bit of reworking going on. It's still not my favourite, but I like it a lot more than I did when I first started editing! :D;
"If I didn't know you better, I'd say you truly believe that our illustrious boss has a firing squad lined up in his office," Elim observed.
For once, Julian didn't smile. Considering Elim making him smile was what had got the two of them an invitation to their division manager's office, it was understandable why his sense of humour had gone on vacation. Especially since he had the awful feeling he'd be permanently joining it. The idea of attempting to find a new job in this economy after being fired from his last was already giving him a horrific tension headache.
"I wouldn't be surprised, given how much of a nuisance we've been," he answered back. "We've driven him up the wall and back down again since the day I transferred here. I'm almost certain he nearly strangled us with his bare hands on four separate occasions."
Elim raised a finger. "The key word, my dear Julian, is 'nearly.' Don't worry. Matters aren't nearly so dire as you seem to believe."
Julian rubbed at his face with both hands. "I only wish I could believe that."
God, he wasn't going to humiliate himself further by vomiting all over Ben's office, was he?
He still couldn't get over that he'd come to this point. He'd never thought, before meeting Elim, that getting along well with someone could be a problem. Frankly, his workplace experiences tended to involve the reverse. But he and Elim had hit it off tremendously—so tremendously that often it was difficult to recall their purpose for being in Deep Space Co.'s building. This had not sat well with the regional manager, Benjamin Sisko.
He'd tried to shape up, he really had. A part of him was still a schoolboy, fearing the guilt that came with a lecture, and that had given him plenty of motivation. But then Elim would tempt him with a witty observation, a bit of sarcasm, or, in some cases, by handing over a new book for him to try, and he'd be lost once again. And now they were about to pay the price for their relationship.
Behind the desk a few metres before them, Jadzia, Ben's secretary (and unofficial left-hand woman to Ms. Kira's right), looked up.
"Benjamin is ready for you now," she told them with a sympathetic smile. "Good luck, you two."
"I only regret that I have but one job to lose for my company," Elim said lightly.
Julian was immediately caught between wanting to groan, laugh, and be the one responsible for any strangling going on today. Jadzia faced no such conflict: she chortled.
"Nice one."
"You're too kind."
"Elim. . . ." This was really getting out of hand and they really couldn't afford that!
"I'll behave, Julian. I promise."
Elim smiled. It wasn't his usual expression of good humoured teasing (or, when directed at certain other people, mockery), but something genuine and rare. In spite of everything, Julian returned it. He couldn't help it; Elim just had one of those smiles.
When he looked away from his friend and back to their destination, however, his smile fell off a cliff. Time to get this over with.
Ben took his time starting the conversation—and even turning around—which was almost certainly to make them sweat. He appeared to be calm, but given the force with which he'd been gripping his desktop baseball behind his back, it wasn't surprising when his words were so clipped, they may as well have been snapped off completely.
"I don't need to tell you why you're here."
"No, sir," Julian replied softly; Elim didn't bother to speak.
"And I don't need to tell you what my expectations were."
"No, sir."
At last, he turned. "I warned you both the last time that there would be consequences if you kept being so unprofessional, so I also don't need to rehash our last meeting." He levelled a hard look at both of them. "That's why you've left me with no choice but to—"
"Mr. Sisko, might I interrupt?"
Julian actually covered his face. No, no, no!
"Yes, Mr. Garak?" Ben asked, his tone exceptionally pleasant. That was, just possibly, the worst sign of all.
How on Earth did Elim think this counted as behaving?
He made himself, with great effort, take his hand from his face in time to see Elim step forward with his usual genial smile.
"While it's been a pleasure working with you these past years, lately, I've felt it's time to try something new," he said, so very reasonably. "I've decided that what I'd really like to do is begin work as a clothier. So, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'll be submitting my resignation, effective immediately."
And then, as Julian and his almost-certainly-soon-to-be-former boss stood astounded at Elim's brazenness, Elim turned to Julian.
"I understand this is rather out of your usual scope," he said, still the epitome of reason, "but running a shop alone is rather difficult. Would you, if you'll consent to have me, be my—assistant?"
"I-I'm, um, dreadful at sewing," he managed, instead of a proper answer like, "You must be joking" or, "This wouldn't be remotely good for my career."
"That's quite all right," Elim replied. "Someone needs to handle accounts."
"Well, uh. . . ." He looked to Ben reflexively, though he had no idea what help he was expecting.
The other man rubbed at his forehead. "I'm only going to fire you. Go ahead. As long as you aren't my problem anymore, you can do whatever you want."
With the oddest sense that reality had become detached somewhere, he looked back at Elim. "That sounds very . . . interesting? I suppose I accept?"
"Splendid!" Elim beamed. "I have a lovely bit of property lined up. We'll go look at it first thing tomorrow. Now, we shouldn't take up any more of Mr. Sisko's time—he's a very busy man, after all." He gave a slight bow. "Good day."
"Good day," Julian echoed, for lack of anything else to say.
Ben gave them both an exasperated look, but said only, "Good day, gentlemen. Have your belongings cleared out by three."
As they left the office, Julian couldn't stop himself from darting little glances at Garak. His friend seemed very pleased, but as for himself—it was as if he'd been abruptly cut loose from mooring. Then again, he thought, because Elim was going to be with him all the way . . . the feeling wasn't really very bad at all.
