Gilora Rejal scurried out of the conduit like her hair was on fire. In the proverbial trail of smoke hunched a frustrated and bewildered Miles Edward O'Brien, chief of operations of Federation space station Deep Space Nine. It had been an innocent cross cultural misunderstanding, but the Irishman cursed himself for not being able to reassure his Cardassian co-worker well enough to convince her to stay and continue their work as a team.

A long sigh of resignation escaped O'Brien as he shook his head and reactivated the instrument he'd been holding limply. The steady hum soothed his frayed nerves. He tried to brush the whole miscommunication off as he continued the necessary modifications. It seemed that women, no matter their species, were impossible to understand; and that he in particular lacked the necessary tact and charm to reason with them. Surely even Dr. Bashir could have bumbled through that digging less of a hole for himself.

The truth was though that he didn't like Gilora. At all. He had rarely had opportunities to meet Cardassian women at length, but she seemed to be just like the men in some respects. Confrontational, argumentative, arrogant, and a know it all. She'd even had the nerve to order him around back up at Ops, telling him to be quiet while she pondered how to work around his modifications of the station's systems and asking him to fetch her Red Leaf tea like he was some sort of underling rather than her coworker. Her personality was like sandpaper to him and he honestly couldn't imagine what sort of man would find the woman attractive.

Apparently Cardassian men, he thought, rolling his eyes.

W^^^W^^^W

Mortified, the young Cardassian woman hurried through the Promenade, intent on reaching her quarters as soon as possible just short of asking for a site to site transport. She knew she was only attracting to herself by appearing so rushed; no one else had heard the embarrassing and humiliating conversation she'd just had with Chief O'Brien. Passing through the replimat, she inadvertently made eye contact with the lone Cardassian resident of the station. He inclined his head in acknowledgement and his lips turned upward slightly.

Garak, Gilora realized. And former agent of the Obsidian Order if the rumors were true. That explained why it felt like he could see through her when their eyes met. She smiled back in what she hoped would be mistaken as genuine though she was sure he'd mastered reading body language. She supposed it didn't matter. It was unlikely that he would attempt to involve himself in her business unless it benefitted him somehow. Her romantic mishaps had about as much to offer him as they did her and she continued on her way.

At long last, she reached the merciful sanctuary of her guest quarters. Her slender fingers flew over the panel, entering the code that would admit her to the solitude she so desperately craved. Dimmer lighting and higher humidity and temperature enveloped her in their welcoming comfort as she slumped against the wall just inside of the door. Her head tipped back and she stared at the ceiling as if appealing to the heavens to shower her with answers about why she'd had to make a total ignorant and blind fool of herself back in that conduit.

"How could I have been such an idiot?!" She cried out to the empty room, her fists balled in frustration in front of her. Obvious silence echoed back and she covered her scaled face with her small hands.

"How could I have forgotten that he was from a different culture when the reminder kept staring me in the face?! How could I have been so blind to think that Cardassian and Human courtship rituals would be the same?"

Sliding down the wall to the floor, Gilora stared across the room and out the window to the stars. Nearby at the wormhole, her coworkers Ulani Belor and Dejar were on the Defiant working on their portion of the project. Gilora wished that Ulani was here to confide in now. They had been coworkers and friends for years and even sometimes bunked together on these types of missions for company. Ulani had a sisterly presence that Gilora was grateful for and knew that the somewhat older Cardassian woman could help her find a way to laugh it off in a way that made Gilora feel less awkward and alone.

She snorted derisively, mostly at herself, and rolled her eyes with a self deprecating smile. "And how could I be so unbelievably arrogant to assume that he wanted me?"

Gilora wondered if she'd sounded desperate to the human man, advertising her fertility as if it was the only attractive quality about her; and that she was willing to give herself to the first male, even non Cardassian, that appeared interested. To a Cardassian male, her youth and fertility would certainly have been an alluring factor, but perhaps to humans it mattered less or was just the wrong time to mention it to him.

No, she really thought he'd been interested in her and she was interested in him. It hadn't mattered to her that he wasn't Cardassian. They shared a career in common and it had seemed at the time, bickering. It had been a cruel blow to find that her blossoming feelings for him were not only not returned, but that he barely even tolerated having her around.

Slowly, she stood and made her way to the washroom, contemplating a long, hot water shower. With any luck, the scalding water would wash away all her complete and utter mortification.

She began peeling off the thick, heavy clothes that kept her warm on a station too cold to be comfortable for Cardassians. They were of muted, uninteresting colors that weren't particularly flattering on her. She would have felt more attractive in bolder hues, but attracting men wasn't in her job description and her work clothes reflected that attitude.

Stepping into the delightfully hot spray, Gilora sighed, both in resignation and relief. Relief at the hot water pelting her skin in what would be the closest thing she'd had to a massage in ages. Resignation because she really did owe the chief an apology for deserting him earlier. Cardassians were typically more professional than that, but she had absolutely been overwhelmed with her own embarrassment. The discomfort had been too much for her to work through. Perhaps things would look better tomorrow.