Chapter Twenty-Three: Mixed Motives

"Dr Bashir to Ops!" Dax ordered, tapping her combadge.

"No…don't need doctor…" Janderschmidt murmured, struggling to rise. Odo's form molded around him, holding him still.

Dax shook her head firmly. "I can't let you leave until our doctor either clears you or gets your signature on a waiver stating you're leaving against medical advice."

"And you're not leaving either," Odo growled, shooting out another appendage to catch Quark as he attempted to sidle past.

Dax's eyes narrowed. "You got him drunk, didn't you?"

"I didn't force him to drink it," Quark whined, struggling vainly in Odo's grasp.

"We'll talk about it later," Dax promised, turning away contemptuously as Dr Bashir burst through the doors.

"What's the problem?" he demanded. His quick eyes spotting the patient even as he spoke, and he dropped to his knees beside him, tricorder in hand.

"Janderschmidt collapsed," Dax explained. "He was drinking at Quark's last night, and Quark may have had reason to want to impair his faculties."

"I imagine you have quite a headache, then," Bashir remarked, acknowledging Dax with a nod and looking up from his tricorder with a smile for his patient. "Take anything for it?"

"My doctor gave me something…let me go to him…be all right."

Bashir shot a glance at Dax, who answered with a quick shake of her head.

"I'm afraid I can't let you transport just now; once I get you resting comfortably in the infirmary I can call your doctor to beam over and take over your treatment, if you prefer."

Janderschmidt sighed, his head lolling to the side, and Bashir pressed quick fingers to his pulse. "He's unconscious; I need to get him to the infirmary for tests." He tapped his combadge with one hand to call for a stretcher, at the same time pulling a hypospray from his medkit with the other hand. He injected its contents, and Janderschmidt's color seemed to improve a little.

As the arriving medics relieved him of serving as a cushion, Odo resumed his customary shape, one hand firmly clutching Quark's shoulder.

"But it isn't my fault he's sick!" the Ferengi whimpered, his eyes darting back and forth.

"We'll leave that to be decided after Dr Bashir finds out what's wrong," Dax said firmly. "In the meantime there's still the question of who owes whom — and you do admit to having gotten him drunk?"

"I suppose so, yes," Quark conceded grudgingly. "Serving drinks in my own bar isn't a crime."

"No. But this is a new low even for you, Quark; to take advantage of Commander Sisko's disappearance to cheat someone out of twenty bars of latinum."

"But I didn't!" Quark protested. "At least, I wasn't going to…"

Dax crossed her arms. "Explain," she said coldly.

"I heard he refused to let you use his transporters. I know how his kind thinks, even if you Federation people don't. He didn't really mean no; he was just waiting for you to offer him money. So…" He suddenly appeared ashamed, as if admitting to a crime — as indeed it was to a Ferengi.

"So you offered twenty bars of latinum," Dax said softly.

"He disappeared on my holosuite; it was the least I could do," Quark muttered. "I only thought afterward of how I could get the money back."

"I believe you," Dax said quietly, her expression softening. She sighed. "I'll grant that a rigged game is expected in dabo, but getting him drunk — or worse — and encouraging him to bet the payment goes beyond normal 'rigging.' So the twenty bars is off the table, but his other wins and losses stand."

Quark paled, thinking of the winning streak he had allowed Janderschmidt to get his guard down, and figuring rapidly to see if there was any possible way he could turn it in his favor. "But…that means…I owe him… ten…" He choked, for a moment appearing as if he, too, might collapse.

"Ten is better than twenty," Dax reminded him, "which you claim you originally fully intended to pay. And I know you have it, since we just returned it to you," she added dryly, wondering now if even the deposit had been Quark's idea. "Odo, escort him down to the bar to get it and bring it back here; I want to be able to keep my eye on it. After that he's free to return to his bar, but I don't want him leaving the station."

"As if I have reason to leave the station!" Quark exclaimed in an injured tone.

"I'm hoping you don't," Dax said grimly. "But the timing of Janderschmidt's illness seems just a little too coincidental to me."

oOo

"Did you find out what was wrong with him, Doctor?" Dax questioned when Bashir had joined her in the infirmary waiting room.

"Yes."

"And?"

"Can I assume you're asking in an official capacity?"

"Yes. Confidentiality aside, Julian, I have to know."

Bashir nodded. "Fair enough. Come into my office so we can talk privately."

He gestured for her to be seated, then took the chair behind the desk. "I found traces of terrezonic acid in his blood," he admitted quietly.

"Is that dangerous?"

"Not especially, at the levels I found; he probably could have recovered without treatment, though there have been instances when surgery was necessary to relieve pressure on the brain. At a dose very much higher, yes, it would have been dangerous if he didn't receive treatment within several hours of ingesting it."

"I see," Dax said grimly. "And how could he have come to 'ingest' this acid?"

"I think you already know," Bashir said quietly.

"Quark," Dax said on a sigh; she had so longed to believe he had nothing to do with it.

"Yes." Bashir hesitated. "To do him justice, I doubt he realized Janderschmidt was anything other than Earth human, and if that had been the case, the drug would have lowered Janderschmidt's inhibitions, without any adverse effects beyond an especially bad hangover."

Dax relaxed visibly. "In that case, Julian, could you not let on that Quark had anything to do with it?"

Bashir shrugged. "It would be true enough to tell him he ate some kind of alien food that wasn't safe for his species. But since when are you so eager to protect Quark?"

"Since he offered Janderschmidt twenty bars of latinum to let us use his transporters to get you and Sisko back," Dax said softly. "He was originally going to pay it, too, until his avarice got the best of him."

"Ah. I never would have thought it of him."

"Me, either," Dax admitted. "Maybe we've all misjudged him…a little."

Bashir grinned. "Yes; only a little!"

Next chapter coming next week! (…hopefully)

A/N: I'm not one to beg for reviews (and I don't even want the "reviews" that just say "Great chapter" without any comments about what the person especially liked about it), but I am curious…with over two thousand views on this story, why is only one person reviewing? (Thanks, Tamuril!) Barbie

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