The promenade was as crowded as it usually was during the afternoon. Federation officers were just getting off of work to go home to their families or do a little shopping and socializing to relax after a long day.
Odo stood guard, pacing and stretching his legs every now and then. It gave him personal satisfaction to see the individuals walking safely home after a productive day. To know that he held their lives in his protective hands would have felt giddying to any other individual, but not to Odo. The security chief merely felt the strong sense of responsibility and appropriateness of the situation.
The Bajorians were milling about in their earthy colored clothes, intermingling with the various Starfleet workers. A pale gray face stood out in the crowd. Garak approached the restless security chief. He gave Odo a wan smile that appeared friendly, but seemed cold and formal at the same moment.
"Constable, might I have a word?"
Odo gave a solemn nod. He eyed the Cardassian calculatingly. The Cardassian tailor might have given him very little trouble in the past, but enough rumors were flying around about him to make Odo suspicious about his true occupation.
"About my friend, Doctor Bashir…" Garak gave a deliberate pause.
"Yes?" Odo snapped irritably.
If the tailor was going to be all mysterious while imparting information, he might a well do it at a less leisurely pace.
"Constable, I might suggest directing your attention towards him."
"The doctor? You've been stitching for too long if you are seriously suggesting that Bashir is up to criminal acts." Odo gave a derisive snort.
"Oh, no no no. I would never attribute criminal acts to the doctor. I merely suggest that you keep an eye trained on him. Good friends always look after each other's interests, do they not?"
"If he is not engaged in conspiracies then why should I keep watch on him? Is he being threatened?"
"Nothing of the sort, my good fellow. If you set your sights on him, that is enough for me. Well, I must return to my premises. A tailor's business can be surprisingly industrious on a large station such as this one. A good day to you." Garak gave him a parting nod and ambled back towards his shop on the promenade.
Odo narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the Cardassian's back. The unlikely friendship of the doctor and the tailor was common knowledge on the space station, but this was the first time he had heard Garak acknowledge it. Theirs was an odd sort of friendship, as far as the shapeshifter could determine. They carried on a continual verbal game of cat and mouse. Bashir wanted confirmation that Garak was a spy, but Garak would only tease and hint at his previous occupation. To what purpose the doctor would need the information, Odo was at a loss. Still, they seemed to take pride in their bickering. Humans were just as odd as Cardassians to him at times.
Odo came to the conclusion that he should have a talk with Bashir, not necessarily about Garak's warning, but a conversation might give him better insight as to the tailor's concerns. What concerned a former spy should concern Odo as well. The head of security walked into Quark's, looking for Bashir at his usual table after work.
The doctor did not often go to Quark's by himself, but it was worth the gamble to check there. He surveyed the large room full of different life forms. The customers were gambling, chatting, and flirting in their usual display of vices. In one quick glance of the premisis, he noted the lack of any Federation science officer. He nearly bumped into the owner of the establishment as soon as he entered.
"Odo, for the love of- Are you trying to use brute force as your new interrogation method? I think you bruised a lobe." Quark touched one of his large ears on his bulbous head, wearing a pained expression.
"If I came here to question you, you would know it, Quark. Taking you into custody will have to wait for another time. I was looking for the doctor."
"Bashir? He hasn't come in today. I haven't seen him all week, as a matter of fact. He's been holed up in the infirmary."
"Indeed." Odo replied shortly.
"Why? Is he in some kind of trouble?" Quark sounded intrigued.
"No. There are some citizens on this station that earn an honest living, believe it or not."
"His loss. He could do with the money. Starfleet doctors." Quark shook his head in a show of exaggerated sympathy. "Now, if he wanted to earn a profit, he should have abandoned Starfleet altogether and created an establishment."
"I think it inadvisable for you to be issuing life advice. Frankly ridiculous, in fact."
"Why Odo," Quark clutched dramatically at his chest, sending the security officer a grin, "That breaks the heart. We both know how dull your life would become without me on this station. If you had a few more Ferengi here, your existence would be that much more interesting."
"Heaven forbid." The security chief groaned.
Odo shook his head, making ready to leave. It seemed he would have to look for Bashir at another time. Meanwhile, he had some security duties to wrap up.
"I'll let you know if the Doc shows up." Quark called after him.
"Do." Odo strode out.
Odo did not forget Garak's advice, but nor did he hunt down the doctor. He knew when to respect privacy and when to wait and watch. He saw Bashir once in Ops the next morning. It was a brief encounter, and he did not even get a look at Bashir's face. Admittedly, he did not even know what he was looking for. Perhaps the doctor would be showing indicators of stress, depending on whatever danger stalked him.
Bashir had been working on something at the computer with Dax. Odo supposed he could have asked him then if something was the matter, but the opportunity or lull in affairs never arose. However, Odo did find him in time when their shifts ended. He followed the doctor down from Ops. They had taken the lift together and proceeded down to the promenade. The doctor stood tense in his presence, acting like a dog with its hackles raised. Odo was surveying him too intently for his liking. Attention from the security chief never preluded anything good.
"Is it just me, or do you seem to be dogging my footsteps, constable?"
"A friend mentioned that you might be in some sort of trouble."
"Trouble?"
While Bashir turned an utterly perplexed expression towards him, Odo finally got a good look at his features. Bashir had lost weight. He looked gaunt and rough around the edges. He had managed to shave and did not have his five-o-clock shadow, but the rest of him was unkempt. His uniform was slightly rumpled and his hair was defying gravity. His eyes were shadowed with sleeplessness and they held a glazed look that did not focus on anything in particular.
The lift stopped, and Bashir and Odo walked out onto the busy deck. Odo carefully schooled back any indications of his surprise. He was used to displaying a reaction so that humans could read his features, but now was not the time to show emotion. He had decided that he should nor alarm the worn looking doctor. He had a promise to an anxious Cardassian to keep.
"Ah, I see what Garak was talking about."
"Garak? What?" Bashir stopped in his tracks and Odo stopped with him.
Bajorans bustled past them, giving the security officer a wide berth.
"He told me to keep an eye on you. Now I see why."
With features as inscrutable as his spy friend's, the doctor started walking again.
"And why is that?" Bashir sounded hoarse.
"I've seen Klingon arena fighters look healthier than you do right now."
The doctor snickered, and then his expression became serious.
"The past few days have been busy, that's all."
"Right. And Garak would have brought that to my attention because…?"
"I don't know. He's just as mysterious to you as he is to me. If you don't mind, I was on my way to find Dax. We have some computer problems to discuss." Julian replied curtly.
Bashir hurried away. His posture only slouched ever so slightly, but he walked with a surprisingly high amount of stamina.
Odo watched him curiously and with just a hint of self-derision. Perhaps Odo had been too long in the company of fretful humans. He was starting to think that he was making too much fuss about nothing. Bashir was a grown man, and a doctor no less. Still, he had been mildly alarmed whilst perceiving Bashir's state. Surely the doctor's other acquaintances had noticed?
Shaking his head as if to rid himself of thoughts of the doctor, he went back to his office. Sisko was demanding his reports sooner and sooner every week and it was endlessly irritating. The Cardassians had never bothered much with report forms. As long as he got the job done and the station was secure, they had been satisfied. The Federation forms had the most ridiculous protocol policies, and they had to receive several signatures to become valid. Security was succumbing more and more to bureaucracy all the time. There were long and pointless "reflection" sections about what happened around him whilst on duty. Squaring his shoulders and breathing an invisible sigh, he walked into his lair and shut the door to the outside world.
The next day, Odo was summoned by Jadzia Dax to her office and they held a private discussion.
"I think he would accept it if it came from you."
"I have noticed, believe me. But he won't tolerate that kind of interference. You know how he reacts when someone gets involved with his affairs."
"It's important to Kira and Benjamin too. It's just a few minutes of your time."
"More like an hour if he wants to hold a debate."
Jadzia had smiled at that.
"Which is why someone like you, who is short and to the point, would be the best choice."
The security officer had sighed.
"Very well." Odo grumbled.
"Thank you."
Odo gave a subtle eyeroll to which she smiled all the wider.
"I mean it Odo. I know you've had to adjust a lot when the Federation came on board with the Ops team. I appreciate what you've been doing for us."
Odo simply nodded, the expression in his eyes showing his acknowledgement of Jadzia Dax's words. The security officer walked out of her office and through the halls. It was a slow morning on the station. The Bajorans and the Klingons were keeping to their residences for as long as possible before going to work.
The changeling walked into the infirmary and found what he had been suspecting. Bashir was hard at work at his computer terminal near one of his desks. It looked like none of his nurses were even on the clock yet, which was an unfortunate turn of events; Odo felt like he could have used the back up. Bashir lit up when he entered, tired but alert gaze scanning him critically as if already looking for a health issue.
"Ah! Odo, how are you?" Bashir asked him.
He looked no worse than yesterday, but not better either. The security officer noticed the slight discoloration of his skin in the harsh lighting. Bashir's arms had some dark patches of skin that did not appear to be natural.
"I am well, doctor. I did not come here to seek your services, but rather to urge you to seek those services yourself."
Bashir breathed an exasperated groan.
"Not again. I told you yesterday that I was doing alright."
"Lieutenant Dax and Commander Sisko do not agree."
"Yes, well, they worry too much sometimes. I can hardly blame them after that Trill tried to kidnap Dax for her symbiote." Bashir started to arrange his tools around the room in a show of preparing for the day.
"They're not asking much. All they want is for you to do a self-diagnostic and take a couple of days off."
"Asking or ordering?" Concern started to creep into Bashir's voice.
"Not ordering as of yet, but I'm certain that if you can present them with proof that you are healthy, the matter will drop."
"What sort of proof are they talking about?"
"This is not an interrogation, doctor. It is perhaps best if you humor them and attempt to take the time off. Humanoids require many regular periods of rest. Surely you have subordinates that can take over for you while you catch up on your sleep."
"I can't." Bashir grimaced.
"Why can't you?" Odo persisted.
"Because there is a visitor on this station who is watching my movements, who wants to see signs of incompetence."
"You mean Dr. Harcourt? Why should he wish to undermine your position here? You were one of his star pupils." Odo wore a perplexed expression.
Bashir leaned against one of his lab tables, eyes taking on a troubled look.
"I am one of his star students. What most people didn't know is that he nearly failed me in my Starfleet apprenticeship. His methods are unorthodox. Sure, he can mend bones and treat lacerations, but he would also bury everyone under a mountain of paperwork and try to drain Federation funds dry. He was also a fan of unnecessary surgeries."
"That sounds like typical Starfleet protocol."
"A little. But he takes it to new heights. My research was never satisfactory for him, either. He didn't care about the research itself, but he cared about whose influence it carried. The more famous the name, the better the research was to him. When he found out that I wouldn't take his advice about certain issues, he started to spread rumors about me. He gave people the impression that I was lazy and recalcitrant."
"It sounds like anyone would do poorly under his tutelage." Odo mused.
"Yes, but eventually I did my best to adhere to his obscure code of ethics and research methods. It stopped me from failing, but I think he just ran out of excuses to hold me back when everyone was adamant that I was near the top of my class."
Bashir sighed.
"Feel better?" Odo asked with a smirk.
"Yes. I suppose I was bottling that up, wasn't I?"
"You've never been one to do that, doctor." Odo smiled.
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Bashir asked with a teasing smile, "You're starting to sound like Miles-Oh!"
The doctor stopped short, his fingertips digging into the lip of the table. Abruptly, he had gone very still. His eyes had glazed over with sudden pain and his body was wracked with fine tremors. Odo gave him a hand up from his chair and guided him over to sit on one of the infirmary beds. The doctor accepted the help graciously. The changeling was shaking his head. He had feared like something like this would happen. Bashir was obviously ill from the stress of recent events.
"When will your nurses and assistants get here?"
"Any minute now."
True to his word, a nurse did come into the infirmary in the next few minutes. Odo sighed with relief. The nurse seemed startled when she saw the doctor looking so unwell and sitting on one of the examination beds. She stood there, blinking, and then sprang into action. Odo stepped out of the way while the Bajoran woman helped settle Bashir down and started taking tricorder scans of him. The doctor was blinking dazedly now. He no longer seemed in pain, but the shadows under his eyes and the woman's poking and prodding looked like they were taking a toll on him. After she took the tricorder reading, she hesitated.
"Doctor." She looked intently at the readings.
"What is it? Show me!" Bashir weakly reached for the tricorder.
He stared at the results and swore under his breath. The doctor stared up at her with startled, bloodshot eyes.
"I'm being poisoned."