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Quark, Ferengi businessman and proprietor of the finest bar and gambling establishment on Deep Space Nine, had an unshakeable habit of always checking a room thoroughly before he could relax.
To be fair, it had been a habit long before coming to DS9 – then Terok Nor – to always be certain that a room was actually private before getting down to any sort of business. It was only good practice, to be sure that any deals being negotiated were done so in an environment of privacy and respect.
Being on Terok Nor, where Cardassians could have some… narrow views on transactions taking place, had taken Quark’s natural caution and sent it straight through the ceiling. It had only gotten worse once a certain Constable had been put in place.
It had been impossible to do any business with 100% security with Odo walking around. Or rather, with him just… being around, pretending to be cups, napkins, tables. How was a Ferengi meant to make an honest strip of latinum with that sort of thing going on? It was enough to make one get a little paranoid.
It was impossible to enter a room and feel completely at ease unless he pulled a full circuit, checking every last little thing to be certain nothing had become a sneaky law enforcer while he hadn’t been paying attention. He’d never been positive which was worse – when he’d found the Constable, or when he hadn’t. The man was a menace, even in his absence. The only plus side were those times when Quark’s thoroughness had found some other sort of spying equipment which had nothing whatever to do with Odo.
If it had only been on those occasions when he’d had business to conduct when he felt the need to go through the ritual of checking, it might not have been quite as bad. Still irritating, but not so distracting.
But no. Even in his own private rooms, with no chance of business taking place, legal or illicit, he still needed to check everything. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to relax.
Paranoia in the name of latinum was all well and good, but if he couldn’t feel comfortable even in his own home…
Of course, it wasn’t really necessary at all now, was it? It hadn’t been an issue worth thinking about for ages. There was no more risk of Odo just appearing out of nowhere, getting the jump on him in whatever activity he was involved in.
There was no more risk, because there was no more Odo, and hadn’t been for a long time.
No more Odo, and yet the paranoia, the need to check just in case remained.
There was no way that Odo would just appear the way he used to. He was gone to be a part of the Great Link, and Quark still stuck on a space station stuffed full of nothing but the echoes of old memories.
But not checking… that would have felt even more wrong than checking when he knew there was no reason for it. Not checking would feel like giving up, like admitting that there was no reason to check anymore. If he let go of his paranoia, then it really would be like Odo was gone, the last specter of the changeling disappearing with Quark’s distrust.
So long as he kept looking, then there was this vague notion that one day, something he picked up would be Odo. That one day, while turning circles and picking up the same things he did every single day, he would find Odo.
Just as though he’d never left, like he’d been there the whole time, and Quark had never really been alone.
To stop looking would be the same as admitting that he was alone.
Rom was worried about him, he could tell by the stupid way he would lick at his teeth when Rom looked at him. He worried, but at the same time he knew better than to say anything. Grand Nagus he might be, but he was still Quark’s brother, and there were some things which didn’t get brought up between them.
Though Rom must had said something to someone, because it wasn’t just his brother who sent him worried glances from time to time, or who decided to check in on him for no reason. Even Dr. Bashir had done that a few times, until Quark had threatened, gently, that if the good doctor didn’t leave him alone, he would have to sew one or two of his fingers back on to his own hand.
For the most part, people left him to his obsessive, fruitless searching. There was no point in trying to dissuade him, just as there was no point in doing it in the first place. The ritual was a symptom, and curing a symptom would do nothing to address the cause of it.
And he wasn’t willing to really face what the cause of his endless searching really was.
So he searched. He found nothing every time, and felt as though he could relax enough to sit, or to talk, or to sleep – but not enough to forget or to let go. Not enough to dream of anything other than a gruff voice calling out his name in exasperation, and the odd comfort which came with the sense that Odo was still be there.
It was soothing, it was mindless, and he did it without really thinking about it anymore. He was just going through the motions. If the ritual had actually been needed the way it had once been, then he was going through it with shocking laxity. Odo would have been able to hide from him easily, even if Quark was, ostensibly, checking every last little thing.
So it was something of a shock when a vase he picked up – a fine piece, but one which he’d long ago ceased to actually see – melted in his hands. Melted, ran through his fingers to the floor, and then ballooned up, taking a new shape.
“Hello, Quark.” The voice was the same, as was the little smirk which came to the thinly formed lips. “Did you miss me?”
Quark was gaping. He knew he was gaping and he couldn’t help it. All he could focus on was that Odo was there, in front of him, one of his hands still clasped in Quark’s from where he had clutched automatically when he’d felt the vase slipping between his fingers.
Odo, looking more at ease than Quark ever remembered seeing him, tilted his head, as though trying to get a better look at him. “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’ve lost your talent for banter. How will your bar survive without your stream of exaggerations and lies?”
“Odo?”
“Ah, good! You do remember how to speak. I was worried that I’d have to drag you off to the infirmary the instant I came back.”
“…back?” Quark blinked, still not certain he should trust his eyes. Or his ears, of all things. “Y- You’re back?”
“Yes, Quark.” He was trying to sound like his usual, grouchy self, Quark could tell. The Constable who was fed up with the non-answers being given by the resident criminal, and who was frustrated by being blocked on even the simplest of answers. It was the sort of tone Quark had worked to get Odo to come out with. It might have been more on the irritated side, but Odo’s grumbles fell nicely on the ear, deep and thrumming.
It wasn’t quite the same, now. Still deep, still vibrating pleasantly around the lobes, but with a hint of gentleness in there, of amusement which wasn’t grudging so much as it was…
Odo’s fingers, still clasped in Quark’s hand, moved, starling him into looking down. Odo was stroking the back of his hand with a thumb, slow and gentle.
“I’m back, Quark.”
When he looked back up, Odo was smiling at him fully. It was such a rare expression that it stole whatever breath he still had.
“You can stop looking for me, now. You’ve found me.”
It might have all been a dream. It could have been that he’d already gone through his ritual hours ago, and that this was just the twisted sort of imaginings his subconscious decided to hit him with. It might have also been a case of Quark finally losing his mind, and it was all a hallucination – that seemed just as probable.
Or it might be real, but the words he was hearing didn’t mean what he thought they meant. Odo might be standing in front of him, but it might also be that Quark was reading every last bit of the encounter wrong, and it didn’t mean what he thought it did, what he hoped it did—
He didn’t care. Dream, hallucination, mistake, Quark didn’t care anymore, and he didn’t care if what he did next turned out to also be a dream, hallucination or a mistake.
The riskier the road, the greater the profit, after all.
Quark reached up – why did Odo always need to be so tall? – and pulled the once-Constable down towards him. Odo’s expression was a little startled, but he came down surprisingly easily. He allowed himself to be dragged down to Quark’s level, and then in close to where Quark could give him the kiss he’d been daydreaming about giving him for years.
If Odo had seen his intention, he hadn’t tried to stop it. Quark considered it possible that he was just too surprised to stop it before it happened, and once he figured out what was going on he would pull away immediately…
Except he wasn’t. In fact he—
He was wrapping an arm around Quark’s waist, holding him steady. He was tilting his head a little, adjusting the awkward position which Quark had put them in, making it so they fit together better, more comfortably.
He was—Oh. He was kissing back. That was unexpected. Dream, hallucination or mistake, that was unexpected.
For a moment Quark thought he knew what it must be like to be a shapeshifter, because it felt as though he were about to melt out of shape. He wondered, very vaguely, if when he reformed he would be a shape which Odo liked.
When they broke apart, Odo was still smiling at him, looking far too pleased with himself. “Should I take it that you’re happy to see me?”
“Good to see that you haven’t lost your touch with reading people.” Quark grinned at him. He thought that he should probably try and maintain some of his dignity be stepping out of Odo’s grip and stand on his own feet – Odo was taking so much of his weight he was in danger of coming up off the ground completely. He brushed the thought aside. He was comfortable, and Odo didn’t seem to mind, and there was no one to see. What did it matter?
“I like to think that I’ve gotten even better in that particular skill,” Odo murmured. He pressed his face closer to Quark’s, touching noses with him and nuzzling gently.
Oh, Exchequer, Odo was nuzzling him. And it should be strange, it should be making him laugh at how ridiculous it was, it really should…
But it only made Quark feel warm. Warm and safe and… and calm. For the first time in far too long, he felt as though he could actually relax.
He ought to ask questions. All sorts of questions about why Odo was on the station, how long he was going to stay, and questions about them… so many questions that they wouldn’t be able to answer them all even if they spent all night dedicated to the subject.
But he didn’t care. It didn’t really matter right now.
He’d found Odo, just like he knew he would.
Quark nuzzled Odo back, feeling the shapeshifter smile. Then Quark stole the smile, taking it for himself when he pressed his lips against Odo’s.
It wasn’t a very successful theft. Odo’s smile stayed right where it was.
Quark had never been able to steal much when Odo was around.