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It’s a typical end of a Friday night at Quark’s. The post-shift crowd of Cardassians is all but gone, and the tables that are laden with the remains of food and drink slowly getting cleared up by malnourished-thin Bajoran workers who rarely meet his eyes.
When Odo steps in, he nearly collides with the last of the customers- Gul Ghamed, flush-faced and shaky and obviously drunk- nearly headbutts him. At the last minute, he swerves and hits the door frame hard, shoulder first, and laughs.
An equally wobbly Bajoran dabo girl- a new one, Odo doesn’t recognize her- rushes to his side, giggling as she puts his arm around her shoulders. “Sorry ,” says the Gul. “Lost my… my…. Better half.”
Ghamed drags the Bajoran closer and tries to kiss her lips, but misses and hits and cheekbone instead, making her giggle again.
“Let’s get you to bed,” the Bajoran says, smiling.
“Yes,” Ghamed says, pushing himself away from the doorframe. “Let’s.”
Odo frowns at the display as the two of them back away, smiling into the dark promenade, like it’s not an ore-processing and distribution center they’re walking through, like there are no ghetto fences and curfews and occupation. Like if there are, those things don’t concern them at all.
Odo could never understand how humanoids manage to delude themselves so strongly.
Inside the bar, things are as they always are, with its owner and eponym collecting the revenue from the dabo-wheel.
“Odo!” He says, full of fake cheer as he notices him stepping in. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Odo passes every night, as part of his last patrol of the day. He doesn’t always stop, but Quark usually gives him ample reasons to. And even if he doesn’t, or more accurately- if he doesn’t at the moment- it’s always good to remind Quark that he’s being watched.
In lieu of an answer, Odo nods his head back, gesturing toward the disappearing couple. “What’s with them?”
Quark grins and spreads his arms. “What’s it look like?” He asks. “Love.”
Odo snorts.
Quark moves to the tables at the back of the bar, already cleaned, and Odo follows. That’s why Quark does it. He thinks Odo doesn’t know- but Odo already saw, more than once, how the Bajoran workers take the food remains and divide them into small bags to hide on their person, and leave a slip of latinum behind the bar. It’s illegal, by Cardassian food safety and sanitary regulations, but Odo is loathed to stop them. Just a few days ago, the food rations allotted to Bajorans on the station was once again cut short by a 100 calories per person.
There are those who ask for much more than a slip of latinum for Cardassian leftovers.
So he lets Quark lead him to a back table. There, Quark sits down heavily, puts his feet on a nearby chair, and pulls out his PADD.
“A new girl?” Odo asks, sitting in front of him.
“You know,” Quark says, “it’s customary to exchange pleasantries with your friends when you see them. Things like, how was your day, Quark? Long night? Profitable, I hope.”
“We’re not friends,” Odo says. Quark rolls his eyes. “The girl?”
“Yes, yes, Odo, she’s new. Started working here yesterday.”
“She seems awfully chummy with Ghamed.”
“Must be,” Quark says. “He’s the one who got her this job.”
Odo tilts his head. “Oh?”
Quark, always an avid storyteller, grins as he looks up. “He came in to see me about her last week,” he says, bursting with the need to share gossip. “Told me she’d been assigned to the station. He doesn’t want her to get roughed in ore processing, you see. He said he’d consider it a personal favor if I find her a place in my nice establishment. So I did.”
“And how did he pay for this favor?”
“He didn’t,” Quark says nonchalantly. “Not yet, at least. Unless you came here with a warrant for my arrest, of course.”
“I didn’t. not yet, at least,” Odo replies, equally nonchalantly. He leans back, craning his neck to look at the doorway. But, of course, they are long gone.
“Poor thing,” Quark sighs, mock-mournful. “She’s going to be devastated when he gets shipped back to his wife and children.”
“You don’t honestly believe she has feelings for him?”
Quark shrugs. “If she doesn’t, she’s the most convincing actress I’ve ever seen.”
Odo looks at him. He appears to be serious. “She’s a Bajoran,” he says. “He’s a Cardassian Gul.”
“She’s a person, he’s a person. Stranger things have happened.”
Odo shakes his head. He’d seen Bajorans and Cardassians consorting before, of course- but he wouldn’t characterize any of what he’d seen as love. He understands the economic benefit in it, for the Bajorans, even if he personally thinks the price of alienating the rest of their countrymen is far too steep. As for the Cardassians…. he supposes they get carnal satisfaction from it. Though he has no idea why they don’t simply resolve that with one another.
“You know how it is,” Quark says, waving his hand dismissively.
“Not really.”
Quark barks out a laugh. “Yeah, right,” he says. “Are you telling me you’ve never been in love?”
“That is exactly what I’m telling you.”
“Not even a Crush?” Quark pushes on. “Not even a tiny bit… in lust?”
Odo rolls his eyes.
“I don’t believe you,” Quark says. “You’re pulling my leg.”
“Believe what you want,” Odo says.
Quark puts his PADD down. He looks over at Odo, brow furrowed, like he’s trying to discern some hidden meaning behind Odo’s words. Only there are none, and that seems to shock him.
“I don’t believe this!” Quark says. “But, you’re-“ he gestures wordlessly at Odo.
He’s what? An Adult? That is what Odo knows Quark is trying to convey. Odo has on the appearance of an adult humanoid, and so, Quark assumes he’s been in love, a rite of passage among humanoids. But he’s not a humanoid, and as much as some of them mistake him for one, it’s been his experience that most of them fear him for not being one.
Odo rolls his eyes.
“And you’ve never been curious?” Quark asks, still incredulous.
“Only professionally,” Odo says, folding his arms. He has a feeling he’s not going to like where this conversation is headed.
“Meaning what?” Quark asks, frowning.
“As a motive, for crimes of passion and the likes,” Odo says.
Quark sits there for a moment, licking his lips and mulling something over. Odo is both curious and afraid of what might be going on in there.
“Odo,” Quark starts, carefully, hands clasped together in front of him. “How would you like… to try?”
For a moment, Odo is dumbfounded.
“Not being in love, of course,” Quarks swiftly amends. “But I could show you what a kiss feels like. You did say you were curious,” Quark adds. “And I’m quite the expert on the matter, if I do say so myself. Never had a complaint thus far!”
“I doubt that,” Odo says. In truth, he was curious. But kissing Quark, of all people?
Then again, who else? It’s not like Odo is spoiled for close friends anymore than he is for potential lovers. And while he can’t say he trusts Quark, he can at least understand him. Quark operates within predictable parameters. If correctly incentivized, he can keep a secret. Especially one he’d gain no money from sharing.
Conspicuously, Odo steals a fleeting look at Quark’s mouth, and then looks around the room. The Bjaorans are nowhere in sight. All of Quark’s Ferengi staff had been gone for a while. It’s just the two of them, there.
“No one has to know,” Quark says, like he’s reading Odo’s mind.
“And what do you get out of it?”
“The pure, selfless satisfaction of helping a friend in need?”
“Try again.”
Quark grins. “The knowledge I convinced you to try,” he says. “And you agreed. That I sold you on something, Odo.”
That does sound like something Quark would take pride in.
“Alright,” Odo says, and the moment he says it, he knows he’s going to regret it.
“Really?” Quark’s eyes widen in surprise.
“Yes,” Odo says, shifting in his seat, annoyed. “Now get it over with before I change my mind.”
Quark gets up and rounds the table. It must’ve taken a few seconds at most, but it feels unbearably long. Odo is suddenly tense, though he’s unsure why. There’s no one here, and Quark can’t harm him in any way. “What should I do?” he asks Quark when Quark is standing in front of him.
“Nothing,” Quark says. “Just lean back, and- close your eyes.”
“I don’t want to close my eyes,” Odo says.
“Fine, then keep them open,” Quark says. And suddenly he’s leaning in, closer and closer, and he’s tilting his head and…
Odo doesn’t know what he expected.
What he hoped for was understanding, a moment of clarity- to help him see what is it about these carnal acts that made so many humanoids throw all caution to the wind to pursue them. How they drive people to stupidity, cruelty, even to death.
What he didn’t expect is the gentleness.
Quark’s lips were so soft- somehow, it didn’t occur to him they would be. Of what he’d witnessed, sexual acts seemed to him aggressive and forceful in nature. Not this slow, gentle press of mouth against mouth, slightly open, the ghost of Quark’s warm breath teasing his curiosity.
He wanted to feel more, and perhaps sensing it, Quark laid a hand against the side of Odo’s face.
That Odo recoiled was based more on instinct than his actual will. One moment he’s considering giving into his curiosity, leaning in to the new, but surprisingly pleasant, sensation, and the next he’s startling back, Quark’s wrist held tightly in his hand, and there’s a fleeting look of fear on Quak’s face.
Odo lets him go. This was a mistake.
“Odo, wait-“
But Odo is bolting out of his chair, making his way back to his office, to the back closet, to his bucket. Anywhere Quark can’t reach him.
Anywhere he can forget what just happened, and how disappointed he is that he ruined the chance it'd ever happen again.