Author's Note: This fanfic is dedicated to my Moogie, from whom I inherited the lobes for business. (Yes, my real Moogie. No, not Quark's!) Happy birthday, Moogie!
Julian Bashir had a great idea, and he couldn't wait to tell his friend. "Chief!" he called excitedly, spying O'Brien crouched in front of a half-dismantled computer panel on the outer wall of the Promenade.
"One second..." Miles O'Brien said distractedly, running a humming hand-held instrument over the wiring as he readjusted a couple frequencies in the panel. As the doctor stared patiently over his friend's shoulder at the confusing jumble of Federation-enhanced Cardassian technology, Chief O'Brien reached into the panel with one hand and adjusted something manually. There was a soft click, and although Julian didn't see any other difference, Miles seemed satisfied. "There!" he said proudly, and replaced the control panel's front cover with a satisfying snap. "Now," Miles said, putting his engineering instruments neatly away into his repair kit and closing it up for the day. "What is it, Julian? You look like you're about to explode."
Julian grinned. "Well, I was looking through the replicator files of old Earth games - you know, the ones we got the dart board and the tennis balls out of - and you'll never believe what I found!"
"What?" Miles asked obligingly.
"A Ferengi game!"
"What?" Miles said again, but this time in a tone of utter confusion. He looked at his friend as though he thought Julian's regular mental exam might be a few stardates overdue.
Seeing the look O'Brien was giving him, Bashir rolled his eyes and clarified, "Well, it's not really a Ferengi game. It's an ancient type of Earth game called a 'board game.' I've only skimmed the rules, but it seems that whoever makes the most profit at the other players' expense wins. So I thought it would be fun for us to challenge Quark and Rom to a game."
O'Brien chuckled. "Yeah, I could just see the look on Quark's face if we won. So what is this game called?"
"Monopoly," Bashir said. "Come on, let's go replicate a set."
Quark looked at O'Brien and Bashir in amused disbelief over the glass mug he was drying with a bar towel, more to advertise to potential customers going by that he sold drinks than because the glass actually needed drying. They had just finished explaining Monopoly to him and had actually challenged him and his brother to a game. As if the two hu-mahns could beat him at a game of profits, even with the liability of having Rom on his team, he thought arrogantly, but still with genuine affection for all three of them. He recalled Rule number 9: Opportunity plus instinct equals profit, and said, "So what's in it for me when I win? You gentlemen seem pretty confident - care to wager on it?"
Julian and Miles exchanged a glance. "Are we just going to stand for that, Chief?" Julian demanded, his eyes sparkling merrily with delight.
"Absolutely not!" Miles agreed heartily. They turned back to Quark, leaning across the bar.
Recognizing an easy business mark, Quark eagerly leaned forward as well.
"If we lose -" Julian began quietly.
"Which we won't," Miles interjected.
"- Then we'll clean up the bar after it closes for free for the next three nights," Julian finished.
"Sounds fair," Quark agreed readily, thinking of the latinum he would save by not having to pay his regular employees' wages.
"But," Julian continued, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "If we win, then you supply our drinks on the House for the next three nights."
Quark calculated the cost of the drinks in his head and compared the figure to the employee wages he had already come up with. O'Brien and Bashir didn't drink that much, and Quark's supplier only charged him a fraction of what he sold the drinks for. He also had to consider his profits from the drinks, but even at the full price he charged the bet came out about even. "I suppose I can live with that," Quark said grudgingly, nodding slowly for added effect. He looked over by the Dabo Table. "Falla," he called, raising a hand to beckon to one of the Dabo Girls.
She was a tall, stunning Bajoran woman with lustrous, dark brown hair tousled up into an intricate style that spilled down her bare back almost to her waist. She was wearing a dark blue, form-fitting dress made out of a slinky material that was obviously designed to distract the Dabo players into losing more often, and to keep the Dabo Table full.
Falla walked over to the bar with the very practiced sultry, bored stride of a Dabo Girl, her wide, dark eyes on Quark, to see what he wanted.
"I want you to run the bar for me for the afternoon," Quark told her. "Rom and I have some business to attend to. You can even have all the free drinks you want - if the customers buy them for you."
Falla smiled wryly, used to Quark's avaricious sense of humour.
"Rom!" Quark shouted as Falla took his place behind the bar.
Quark's loyal brother Rom came scurrying. "Yes, Brother?" he said excitedly, obviously hoping that Quark was about to make him a lucrative offer.
"I've just made a bet with Doctor Bashir and Chief O'Brien," Quark explained. "They want to play an old hu-mahn game of profit with us." He flashed a grin, showing teeth sharp enough to sink into any business venture. "If we lose, they get free drinks for three nights. But if we win, they'll work for free for three nights." He turned back to Bashir and O'Brien. "You mentioned that someone has to be - what was it? The Liquidator?"
"The Banker," Julian confirmed. "That person is supposed to control the Bank's money."
Quark nodded. "Banker, right. Might I suggest a neutral third party? That way everything's fair, and we can all concentrate on the game."
Julian and Miles looked at each other again, thoughtfully.
"How about Odo?" O'Brien suggested almost immediately.
"You took the words right out of my mouth," Quark agreed.
Odo sat in his chair, staring at the four eager Monopoly players standing on the other side of his desk.
"And so that's why we want you to be the Banker," Doctor Bashir was saying. "We need someone impartial, and we thought, since you're the Constable...?"
"Hah!" Odo scoffed, clearly amused at the idea. "Believe me, there's nothing I'd like better than to see Quark lose," he said, giving his friendly adversary a slightly disapproving, but in no way malicious, look.
His expression was returned with a defiant look of innocence from Quark.
"I'm not impartial," Odo went on regretfully. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you'll have to find someone else. What about Commander Worf? He's an honorable man, and since he's new to the Station he should be able to be impartial."
"He's right," O'Brien spoke up. "Worf and I served on the Enterprise together. I don't know why I didn't think of him."
"Well, let's go then!" Bashir said excitedly, starting out the door of Odo's office. "Oh!" he remembered, and stopped short just long enough to turn and smile at Odo. "Thanks, Constable!" Having remembered his manners, he bolted out of the office like a seven-year-old on his way to a parade on Risa. O'Brien, Quark and Rom were not far behind him.
"Don't mention it," Odo called after them. "And Quark - I'll be there to watch!"
Julian, Miles, Quark, Rom and Worf sat around one of the small, square tables in Quark's bar with the Monopoly set laid out on the table between them. A large crowd of spectators had gathered in the bar, and even the aloof Falla gave their table an occasional curious look from where she stood behind the bar across the room.
Worf had agreed readily enough, and seemed to be taking his role as the Banker very seriously. He also seemed to be immensely enjoying himself.
"Isn't this exciting?" Benjamin Sisko grinned, leaning over Bashir's shoulder to see the game. When Bashir looked surprised to see him there, Benjamin laughed and clapped a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "I was getting reports from all over the Station that four people were barreling around talking about some old Earth game, so I decided to come see for myself. I didn't want to miss all the fun!"
Major Kira and Jadzia Dax stood next to each other nearby. Kira was grinning widely at Dax, who finally noticed.
"What?" Jadzia asked cluelessly, which only made Kira grin even harder. But Dax didn't notice long, as she soon went back to making eyes at Worf.
True to his word, Odo was also there, watching with great interest and entertainment. He seemed impatient for the game to start.
"You have one hour," Worf announced to the players. The rules had already been explained, and they had already decided who would roll the dice in which order to move around the board. "Begin!"
O'Brien had the first turn. He rolled the dice, then moved his little metal cannon figure forward a few spaces, landing on one of the first few property squares.
"Do you wish to purchase the property?" Worf asked. Julian suspected that if it had been anyone other than Worf, they wouldn't have been able to keep a straight face. Julian was barely succeeding, himself.
"Uh, sure," Miles said, since it sounded like a good idea.
The transaction with the Bank had barely been completed when Quark spoke up. "I'll give you twice what you paid for it," Quark offered cockily.
Rom squeaked, and Miles and Julian exchanged a look of surprise.
"If you say so," O'Brien agreed, handing over the property card in exchange for the colorful paper game money offered to him by Quark. "Look at that," Miles said aside to Julian. "I've made a profit already."
Close to an hour later, Quark had somehow acquired over half of the property spaces, and O'Brien's early profits had long been spent paying rent to land on those spaces. Quark sailed his little ship around the board, putting up more and more hotels. Rom was in close to five thousand dollars of debt to the Bank, and Julian's little dog was in Jail for the third time. On the next turn, Rom's shoe figure joined it there.
O'Brien landed on another of Quark's property spaces, this one with two hotels on it. "I don't have enough for the rent," he said. "I'd better take a loan."
"You don't have to do that," Quark said generously. He gestured to one of O'Brien's property cards. "I'd be happy to take that for your rent."
"Fine," O'Brien said gamely. He handed the card over.
There were a few cheers of "Dabo!" from the crowd of spectators, followed by a chorus of hearty, good humoured laughter.
"What's so funny?" Miles demanded melodramatically, although he obviously found the way the game was going to be hilarious himself.
A couple of Quark's Dabo Girls were circulating the crowd, accepting bets from the spectators on the outcome. Julian and Rom were jokingly plotting to short out the force field of the Jail and steal Quark's Monopoly Money. Benjamin was leading a group of supporters in cheering on Julian and Miles, and Dax was doing the same for Quark and Rom. Worf was now grinding his teeth to keep from laughing out loud at the whole spectacle.
"The game is now over," Worf said abruptly. "Your time is up."
There was a triumphant cheer from Quark and Rom's side of the room, and a disappointed collection of sighs and groans from Miles and Julian's supporters, but everybody clapped, their past hour well spent. From the pile of game money and assets in front of Quark, it was clear even before Worf counted up the players' totals who had won.
"Congratulations, Quark," Worf said, giving the Ferengi a dignified and respectful look. "You win."
"Thank you, Commander Worf," Quark replied smugly, but with no less dignity.
"Yeah, congratulations," O'Brien echoed Worf, grinning.
Julian nodded his agreement. "Congratulations! That was the most fun I've had in a while."
Benjamin chuckled and put a hand on Julian's shoulder and the other on O'Brien's shoulder. "Oh, well, better luck next time. Now if you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I have to get back to Ops." He nodded his own congratulations to Quark and left.
The crowd had already begun to disperse. Some had left the bar entirely, while others had stayed for drinks or retired to the Holosuites. Quark was counting up his profits from the bets placed by the spectators, and Worf and Dax were sitting at the bar together talking over drinks.
"Well, I'll see you gentlemen tonight at closing time," Quark said happily. He gathered up his profits and excused himself, bellowing at Rom to get back to work, leaving Julian and Miles sitting at the table alone.
"I can't believe we challenged Quark to Monopoly!" Julian groaned, leaning back contentedly in his chair with an air of feigned dejection.
"What! It was your idea," Miles accused good-naturedly.
"Well, I suppose this means we'll be buying our own drinks," Julian said wryly, and flagged down a waiter.
Later that evening, Julian, Miles and Rom were all cleaning up the bar after it had closed for the night.
"Hey," Julian asked Rom. "If you and Quark are the ones who won the bet, then why are you here cleaning with us?"
"Quark said he never promised me the night off," Rom said as he diligently wiped down a table with a damp bar towel and put its chairs upside down on the tabletop. "Besides, he said he won by himself, and quoted the 18th Rule of Acquisition to me: A Ferengi without profit is no Ferengi at all. But I know he was really thinking about Rule 211: Employees are the rungs on the ladder of success. Don't hesitate to step on them." Rom grinned. "I've been learning a lot about business by working for Quark."
"Well, you seem awfully cheerful about it," Miles remarked. "You're a good sport, Rom."
Rom shrugged and simply quoted, "Rule number 65: Win or lose, there's always Hupyrian beetle snuff."
Julian, Miles and Rom laughed as they continued working. The Station spun peacefully in its orbit as another interesting day on Deep Space Nine drew to a close.