Chapter Eleven

Quark slowly raised his head from his pillow, disoriented from sleep, feeling forgetful. Wasn't there something important he had to do? The bar? No, he'd been poisoned, wasn't working right now, that's why he was still so tired. Any side deals in the works? No…

Odo. That was it. Odo was here when he fell asleep. Was he still? He didn't hear anything. Quark reached out, only to find no one there. Just him, and a keen sense of disappointment washed over him.

He checked the time. It was halfway through the next cycle. What was he expecting? He knew Odo was on duty. Still, this scene was playing out a little too much like that morning on Klaris for his liking. The disorientation, though it had been worse that morning. Where was he, with strange jungle noises outside. The sense he had forgotten something significant.

Then, it coming back to him as he sat up in the bed, looking around the hotel suite that was similar to but not quite the same as his, his clothes scattered on the floor. Started to remember how they had gotten there, and realizing his 'partner' was nowhere to be found.

Yes, that had been a strange morning. Quark did call out for him, in case he was resting in one of the decorative vases in the room. Or was one of the decorative vases in the room. He got no answer, so he dressed and left for his own suite.

He had still held hope that maybe Odo was walking it off, thinking things over and they'd meet up later. Admittedly, it was a lot to take in, and it was still a lot to take in, as Quark reminisced.

He had stayed around the party for awhile, enjoying the food and drink, but near the end everyone was talking about the smoke plumes he couldn't see and the aromatic herbs he couldn't smell and other sensory perceptions so he'd wandered off. Take a walk, go to sleep, then leave tomorrow. Not a bad deal, all in all.

However, as he strolled, the much talked about smoke plumes appeared in his vision, the scent of the burning herbs began wafting by. He finally understood why everyone was so excited back there. It felt good, great, gave him the feeling of being glad to be alive. He was perceiving everything with rose colored glasses. The spectacular foliage, the roar of the night insects, the flower fragrances drifting through the air, the echo of the priestess chanting, "Love yourself." Yeah, that wasn't too difficult when you felt like this.

Then, Quark had an inspired thought. If he was now effected, maybe Odo was as well, and he decided to seek him out. Maybe not the most sound logic, but at that moment it was hard to care. He checked along the walking paths. Odo was not there, however he did run across a few happy couples, enjoying the romance of the night, as the priestess' echo changed to "Love each other."

Again, he thought, no problems loving everybody when you're feeling like this, in surroundings like these, and he did feel extra fond of everyone: The Klarisians, the people back on Deep Space Nine, the Bajorans, the Federation, even the Klingons were seeming more likable. This would be great for his business, he mused; the spirit moving people to show their affection for each other, with drinks, food, desserts, time in the holo-suites together…

Still, Quark wanted to find Odo and the more he searched, the more he wanted to find him. It felt important, as he walked back to the hotel, hugely important, as he climbed the stairs, that Odo be here, that he see him.

He rapped on the door, called out his name, and was so relieved when he heard Odo walking inside the suite to answer. And once Odo opened the door, the plumes became more intricately blended, the drum beat kicked up, and suddenly everything had so much meaning.

Because, everything had lined up for this moment in space and time: His decision to set up shop on the space station formerly known as Terok Nor; Odo's people setting him adrift as a baby and being picked up by the Bajorans; their constantly being at odds, leading to their getting to know each other; Captain Sisko stopping him from leaving the station after it changed hands by first putting Nog in a holding cell, then finding the wormhole, changing everything. The same Captain Sisko who insisted Quark accompany them to Klaris.

And he was so happy, to be here right now, to have met Odo, because for some reason, none of their feuding and squabbling seemed to bother him much right now. He just saw Odo, his proud and elegant exterior masking the enormous inner reserves it must have taken to make his way not knowing where he came from or who he was. The respect and admiration Odo had universally won from his colleagues for his remarkable doggedness and determination, the safety and comfort he provided to everyone living on Deep Space Nine. The dry wit and depth of caring Quark had witnessed from him in quieter moments.

And he had been right, when Odo confirmed he was feeling the effects of the ceremony. Quark had been right to come here. And he could see it in his eyes, Odo was happy to see him too, and why not? Why couldn't they stop this farce that they didn't like each other? Why'd they have to keep covering it up with arguments and lies? It was such a relief to just admit it, and to know that Odo felt the same, so why not enjoy each other's company for a change? Were they always going to be stuck in the clash: Odo the law and he the law breaker?

Then he heard the priestess one last time, "There are no limits." and it was a revelation. They didn't, they didn't have to do this anymore, as he stepped toward Odo, and he realized the spark that existed between them, though his body was once step ahead of him, already reaching out to touch. And Quark was terribly mad at himself, a great opportunity had been under his nose for who knows how long and he was only now aware of it. He'd been missing out on the chance to see that knowing, acknowledging grin on Odo's face, to feel Odo wind his arm around his shoulders, and bend his head low to match his.

Really, they should have done this a long time ago, Better late than never he supposed, sighing to himself, as the drum beat grew louder, as the swirling plumes took on even grander and more magnificent colors, and the intoxicating scent of the incense took all his remaining cares and worries away…

...Only to be left empty handed, yet hopeful in the dawn of the new day. After all, unexpected profit was the best profit of all, and Quark wasn't about to give up so easily.

So he went about his morning, all the while waiting to see if Odo would contact him. Washed up, changed his clothes, ate breakfast. No Odo. That was all right. It was too soon to call, and Odo not acknowledging him at the farewell meeting didn't mean anything. Why would he bring it up there?

He was encouraged by what he learned from the rest of their party during their discussion on the Defiant. It wasn't just some… aphrodisiac incense they'd all inhaled. Good, that proved what he already knew: It wasn't random.

Odo avoided him on Deep Space Nine but Quark wasn't too put off. He knew Odo was a grumpy guy, knew he needed a lot of time to process things. It was kind of nice, actually, to not have Odo harassing him at every turn. In fact, kissing Odo was a whole lot more enjoyable than their arguing had ever been. If only he could get Odo to see it that way...

He was irritated when Odo paid him off, that that was Odo's first acknowledgement of what happened. His hope started faltering then, but he didn't want to call it quits just yet. Not before he'd made a move of his own. It was challenging to get anything in motion, with Odo resolutely refusing to speak with him anymore than was necessary. Hence, why he had to get creative and 'invite himself' into Odo's quarters.

That had been more nerve-wracking than he thought. It was always a tricky part of wheeling and dealing – push too hard and you could lose the deal, but wait too long and you could lose it just the same – and he wondered, maybe he'd timed it wrong. Waited too long to do something. That it wasn't fresh enough anymore. But, he said what he wanted to say, albeit not as smoothly as he imagined, but he tried, and he could feel good about that. Still, he knew it was done after that, when Odo made no move to communicate with him. Time to drop it. No matter how disappointed he was.

When his doors opened that next night and Odo was standing there, Quark figured it was only to tell him off – either for barging in or for what he said, or both, depending on how irritated Odo was today. Quark tried to save some face, move on to new things, but to his astonishment, Odo kissed him. He was cautiously optimistic, because if Odo was playing hard to get, he was playing really hard to get.

But it was so far so good, as they kept kissing. He hadn't been expecting the oo-max. It had been a long time since he'd had anyone do that so intimately, face to face, not since Natima. He was a bit taken aback actually, how intense it was, but, this was good right? It was what he'd wanted...

...Until Major Kira called. Seemed like a bad omen that it was her. Reminded him how Odo had been watching her for years. Made him question what Odo was doing in his quarters anyway. Maybe he'd just wanted to be wanted for a change.

Then, Odo and the rest of the crew gave him hell over that Halocon-2 deal. What hypocrisy. Like they were the moral authority of the galaxy. The Hu-mans and the Bajorans and the Cardassians and the Klingons and the Dominion were all just as bloodthirsty as each other. And whenever he tried to point this out, he'd get some smart come-back about how the Ferengi were just content to bathe in their latinum and degrade their females.

Yes, the females weren't equal, but that's how it was. They weren't barbarians. The females were taken care of. They were fed, kept warm, entertained, found husbands. How was that worse than investing huge supplies of time and money into tools for war – training soldiers, creating weapons, building fleets of warships – then both condemning and respecting anyone who did the same?

Quark had waited all that time for Odo to do something, he did, and this is what he did right after? No, that was it. He was done. And Odo agreed. Good…

...Until he almost died. Standing in the bar one moment, fighting for his life the next. Just like that. Not knowing his lobes from his toes, space station from planet, or the day of the week. Wondering, in his few clear moments, what was going to happen to him, if this room was going to be the last place he saw.

Turned out it wasn't. Instead, he became intimately acquainted with the ceiling and walls and floors of his bedroom and the various station noises he normally tuned out. He was stable, but rattled, far more than he wanted to admit, even to himself. Even though he felt better than he had, he still didn't feel good. His endurance was running low.

Then Odo came by. Whatever it was, it couldn't be great, but he was curious, and it was nice to see someone, after being cooped up in his quarters for so long, so he let him in. At first, Quark didn't believe him. He'd seen this happen all the time. Yeah, sometimes a near-death woke people up to their true feelings, but just as often he'd seen people get back together when they really should have just stayed broken up. The rush of emotions, it confused people.

And Odo wasn't used to emotions, and that's what was happening. He was really just trying to… say he was sorry that this had happened. They shouldn't be together. Nothing had changed. They were still going to get into the same arguments and disagreements they always had. But Odo kept pushing it, and Quark was tired, and it felt good, so he went along with it.

Oh well. He'd done his part. He'd tried to make Odo see sense, but Odo was just as stubborn as he always was. And, like he said, it was nice, for the time being. It would probably end when he started working at the bar again, that was his bet. Odo would come back to himself, realize what Quark had already realized, it would break up, things would go back to usual. It would be a little awkward, but it would go back to normal.

So, might as well enjoy it for the moment, even if it was only a fantasy. But, wasn't it always a fantasy? After all, Quark's whole business was fantasy. That's what the bar was. A place to forget your troubles and cares for awhile, be with your friends, dream about winning big at the dabo tables while being attended on by his beautiful dabo girls. Feel a little more confident, a little more fun with the help of some alcohol. The holo-suites of course were total illusions.

Basically, he was trying to convince people that if they bought what he was selling, they would be happy. Or powerful, or successful, or whatever it was they wanted at the time.

So, he'd gotten caught up in it last night, the fantasy, but he wouldn't again. It was a bad investment after all. And why expend energy to end something that would end all on its own.

With that decided, he waited. And slept. And waited some more, with very few interruptions. The doctor stopped in to give him a few encouraging words. Rom and Nog told him things were alright at the bar, and to hurry up and get better, because they had other things they wanted to be doing.

Odo would stop by late in the night. They usually sat on the couch for awhile. Odo would tell him about his day. Quark appreciated the visits, the warm smiles he received that he returned, the arm around his shoulder, the occasional kissing, and as the evenings wore on, he found himself looking forward to hearing the door chime and Odo stepping inside in his ridiculously bland uniform, at least by Ferengi standards, and his swept back blond hair.

He'd send Odo out when he wanted to go to sleep. It worked for both of them – he knew Odo liked to practice his shapeshifting, and like he said, he wasn't looking to drag this out any longer than necessary.

It all sounded good in his head, but when it wasn't so easy to believe, during the seemingly endless hours recuperating alone, he would ask the computer to play rain sounds, and let his thoughts drift. Though Ferenginar's constant precipitation and humidity were often a nuisance – maybe that was why no off worlders had ever gone out of their way to conquer it – he found he missed it, particularly the sound. It was the background rhythm of his whole life: waking up, eating meals, walking through the streets, playing with Rom, going to sleep. It brought back a lot of memories.

His father's Tongo gatherings were some of his favorites. Even though his father wasn't very good, he enjoyed it, and Quark would make Rom watch with him from afar. It always looked so fun, and sometimes his father let them sit beside him at the table. Moogie would serve appetizers. They'd all been so happy. At least, he thought they'd been, until he learned later that Moogie wanted a different life for herself. So did Rom. And then, after he grew up, so did Nog.

He sighed. He'd put the rain on to be soothed by it, remember his roots. Instead he was reminded of how Starfleet's ideals had saturated his family, his whole life – slowly, insidiously – without him even realizing it, blending until he couldn't find where one started and one began: the help they provided to reopen the bar after he lost everything; the free medical care he had just received; the level of safety they maintained on the station. Moogie had somehow gotten his business license restored, as a get-well present, but when he was without it, he'd depended on Starfleet's business more than ever.

Then, his thoughts returned to Odo. They'd been making deals with each other since the very beginning. Odo let him keep his smaller operations going because he knew Quark heard things he would never hear otherwise. Odo and Starfleet had dropped charges against him plenty of times in exchange for his cooperation. He'd even helped Odo go undercover before. All these borders and boundaries he'd put up, maybe they had never really existed at all.

This wasn't the direction he wanted to be moving in. He'd already determined this was a bad investment, he didn't need hope that maybe it wasn't. "It's always raining on Fereninar. You get what I'm trying to say?" his own voice echoed in his mind. Amidst the steady patter of recorded rain and the din of his quarters, his confusion swirled.

Soon, but not soon enough, he did start to feel better. Enough to start working part-time, then full time. Rom and Nog were happy they didn't have to juggle their regular jobs with the bar anymore. It was good to see everyone again. Morn talked his ear off about what he had missed. He received many congratulations on his recovery, the senior officers included, though they couldn't help but jest that now Odo would have a busy schedule again. That was okay; they rang up quite a tab that night.

And, just as he thought, when they were both working, he and Odo saw less of each other. A few brief conversations at the bar, maybe a quick hello after hours, but that was it. It was fading. To be safe, he toed the line. Let whatever they had fade completely before he really got back to business. It would only take a little longer.

Though he was surprised; he had thought once he returned to the bar, he'd feel fine, yet he did not. There remained a listlessness from his recuperation, an uncertainty he couldn't quite reconcile.

He had enough energy to get through the day. His heart wasn't really in it, but all this was so familiar to him it was easy enough to go through the motions: taking orders, scheduling the holo-suites, keeping his ears open for the latest trends and news.

He could fake it until he got back into the swing of things. Though it would be easier if he didn't have the memory of Odo's cold fury, telling him how worthless his pursuit of latinum was, and how true that felt, when he was lying alone in the bio-bed, or his quarters. His latinum had not comforted him then. His idiot brother, his corrupted nephew, and his rebellious Moogie had. As had Odo, the station's self-righteous Chief of Security.