roly poly, pell mell

There's a squishy, gelatinous something oozing down the side of Quark's face.
This is not an unusual way for Quark to wake up, nowadays. He just isn't sure whether it's his boyfriend or his boyfriend's kid.
He sticks one hand out. Odo isn't there next to him. He carefully feels the gooey mass draped over his cheek, head, and brow ridges. The mass is pretty small. Not big enough to be Odo. Okay, Quark thinks. He's probably doing security chief things. That means that the being lying on his face can only be--
"Clover," he mumbles, peeling her carefully off his face, "good morning. You sleep good?"
(In which Quark struggles to accept fatherhood, Odo makes a revelation, everyone is very frightened, and a changeling toddler has a lot of fun--not necessarily in that order.)

Notes:

babyfic 2: electric boogaloo is done! enjoy the further adventures of Clover and their hapless dads. Direct sequel to "so i know you're alive; in the dim, you've arrived" so you will be extremely lost if you just jump in here.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

There's a squishy, gelatinous something oozing down the side of Quark's face.

This is not an unusual way for Quark to wake up, nowadays. He just isn't sure whether it's his boyfriend or his boyfriend's kid.

He sticks one hand out. Odo isn't there next to him. He carefully feels the gooey mass draped over his cheek, head, and brow ridges. The mass is pretty small. Not big enough to be Odo. Okay, Quark thinks. He's probably doing security chief things. That means that the being lying on his face can only be--

"Clover," he mumbles, peeling her carefully off his face, "good morning. You sleep good?" The little changeling says nothing as Quark cradles her in his hands, gathers herself into a loose ball. "Me too," he says, yawning as he shakes the sleep off. "Guess you're opening the bar with me today, huh?"

He swings his legs off the side of the bed and sticks Clover in her beaker on the side table. "Stay put, I'm just gonna get dressed."

He's only just pulled on his pants and a shirt before she's climbing steadily out of the beaker and inching close to the edge of the table. Quark screeches quietly and lunges for her. "Nooo, no you don't, you fall and your dad will kill me." He holds his hands out and she falls into them.

She's a lump of animated putty, but Quark feels like she's laughing. He pulls her gently, like slime, wraps her around his wrist. "You good to stay here like this? Or are you gonna try to kill yourself again?"

Clover tightens around his wrist and stills, apparently happy with the new arrangement. "Okay," Quark says, and puts his waistcoat and jacket on. "Showtime, huh, baby?"

She doesn't say anything. She doesn't have lungs or vocal cords, so of course she doesn't say anything. But she oozes up just a little to encase one of his cufflinks, which should keep her occupied for a while.

Rom has picked up a few shifts in the bar to help take some of the pressure off Quark, while Clover is a new baby and needs a lot of attention. Quark hadn't asked him to, but he'll pay him for his trouble anyhow.

Rom is there when Quark arrives, fixing some piece of equipment or other. He catches sight of Quark and grins. "Brother! I saw the Constable earlier. He looked busy!"

"I figure that's why I have this new bracelet," Quark says, holding out his arm palm-up to show Clover off. They haven't moved since settling there.

"Ohhh, very pretty," Rom coos. "Good morning, Clover. Your uncle Rom loves you very much!"

Quark starts opening up the register for the day. "You're not her uncle."

"I am so. Isn't that right, Clover?"

"She's an ooze, Rom, she's not going to respond to you." Quark reaches for a few bottles to mix up Morn's customary morning pick-me-up--a syntheholic Warp Core Breach. He's not sure what the point of a syntheholic Warp Core Breach is, especially at 10 AM, but if Morn is paying then he's not going to stop him. Clover slowly inches out a section of themself toward the glass and Quark pushes it out of their reach. "No liquor for babies. Your father would kill me," he adds, under his breath.

"She's looking very active today," Rom says, eyeing her as she turns her attention to busily undoing Quark's cufflinks.

"She's mad that I won't let her drink."

Plink! One of Quark's cufflinks falls to the ground and rolls under the bar before he can catch it with his foot, though he does try.

"Ah, for the love of--Clover, those are latinum, they're expensive!"

Rom catches the next one before it falls, places it in Quark's other hand and tries to hold back his big, goofy grin. "Would you like me to babysit for a while?" he asks, wide-eyed and hopeful. "I won't even leave the bar. We'll just spend time upstairs while I go over some schematics."

Quark carefully peels her off his wrist. "Take her," he groans, "but be careful what you wish for."

Rom drapes the little changeling over his shoulder and scampers up the spiral stairs, chattering to her the whole while.

Rom watches Clover for half an hour or so before he has to run off to his engineering shift. He returns her to Quark, who wraps her around his wrist again. This time, his cufflinks are safely in his pocket.

"Just us again." He pets across her soft surface with his other hand for just a second and then goes back to polishing glassware.

The lunch rush is hitting by the time Odo shows up, strolling up to the bar and leaning over its surface on his elbows, watching Quark work. Quark delegates to Broik and turns all his attention to his partner. "Yes? Can we help you?"

He leans over onto the bar as well and Clover slowly extends herself, stretching over to touch Odo, who smiles and takes her in his hands. "Hello, darling," he says to her, then looks up at Quark and adds "and hello to you too. I'm sorry for being out when you woke up this morning. There was an inconvenience to be dealt with."

"Was it seriously so inconvenient that they needed you when you've requested parental leave?"

Odo shrugs. It's a gesture he's picked up from Quark, he thinks. It's hard to regularly share a brain space with someone and not pick up some of their mannerisms. "Someone of my particular skill set was needed."

"O'Brien dropped a tricorder down a vent and needed you to stretch out your arm and grab it, huh?"

Odo hrrmf!s, but his eyes glint mischief. "Something like that. Well, Clover, shall we practice shifting?" The oozy little pile clings to Odo's hands, ventures toward the sleeves of his uniform. "What are you doing?" he asks.

Quark snickers as he realizes what Clover is up to. "She's looking for cufflinks," he says.

"Ah. You'll find that I'm not nearly as decorated as your other caretaker is, darling." He straightens up. "We'll be back after a while."

"Have fun with her!"

Odo likes to talk to Clover. The best way to learn a language is to be exposed to it, and if Clover is as talented with language as they are with shifting, they should pick it up in short order.

He speaks to them in the language spoken by most Bajorans, careful not to use too many Cardassian loan words. He had learned to speak a colorful mix of Bajoran and Cardassian standard dialects, as was spoken in Dr. Mora's lab; he only realized they were two separate languages once someone told him so. He speaks only Bajoran standard dialects with Clover, knowing the universal translator will have an easy time with it when she begins to speak.

"I'm sure Quark will want to teach you Ferengan as well," he sighs as he enters the lab, turns on the lights and begins setting up Clover's toys. "Radial Ferengan does allow for some interesting poetry, but Linear Ferengan is much less of a bother..."

Clover steadfastly refuses to shift into any shape at all.

"Any progress?" Quark asks when Odo makes his way back to the bar that night, Clover in their carrier strapped to his chest.

"None," Odo sighs. "It's like they've forgotten how to shift."

"I'm sure they haven't forgotten, they're shifting all the time. Just moving is great, right?"

"Yes, but they should be able to take simple shapes, and they aren't. I don't know how to get through to them."

"What kind of shapes are you talking about?"

"We started with a ball. An extremely easy shape."

Quark's mouth closes, twists like it does when he thinks particularly deeply. "Maybe that's your problem."

"What do you mean?"

"One second."

Quark turns around, scurries behind the bar and to the replicator; he uses it and then returns to Odo and drops a handful of small, shiny golden objects on the bar.

"What are those?!"

"They're cufflinks. Let her down, Odo."

Odo places Clover on the countertop and immediately they extend themself to envelop a few of the cufflinks, manipulating and playing with them. Clover slides further and gathers the rest of them up.

"Quark, I fail to see the--"

And then her color changes to a bright, shiny gold to match the cufflinks.

Odo stares, then laughs. "That's--I didn't know they could mimic colors deliberately like that!"

"She was bored!" Quark crows triumphantly. "You're boring her with easy shapes! Who wants to transform into some featureless orb when you could play with some interesting stuff?!"

"Oh, because you know so much about changelings?"

"Intimately," Quark leers, "come on, Odo, when was the last time you were a ball for no reason?"

Clover tosses a few of the replicated cufflinks around, one of them clattering to the floor. They pile the rest of them into a tiny mountain. They're lustrous and opaque like molten metal.

"I suppose it was in Doctor Mora's lab," Odo says, tightly, "but--"

"See what I mean?!"

"Quark. Look." Clover is pulling her liquid body up into a smooth, gleaming ball. Odo is careful to praise her. "Good work, Clover! Exceptional!"

The ball quivers a little. Clover probably doesn't understand much of what he's saying, but they certainly understand Odo's glowing tone.

"See?!" Quark's yapping breaks his attention. "She knew what you wanted! She was just bored to tears!"

"Was she."

"You have to stimulate her mind properly," Quark pontificates, gesturing widely with one hand.

"Is that so," Odo says tightly. "I suppose you'd like to teach them to mimic other interesting things, like tongo chips, maybe? Perhaps then you'll finally be able to win against Commander Dax."

"You're just mad because I figured out how to get her to do what you wanted and you didn't! Isn't that right, Clo--"

Quark looks down.

Odo looks down.

Clover is gone.

"Where's the baby?!" Quark half-shrieks, looking around for a second before he spots them and points Odo in their direction.

Clover is rolling slowly but surely down the bar.

"She can walk!" Quark gasps, amazement in his voice.

"Roll."

"Whatever! She's moving!"

Pride swells in Odo's chest. "They're so clever, look at them! Quark, I didn't learn to do that until much later."

Clover picks up speed. Morn thoughtfully lays his arm down across the bar to keep them from rolling off it. "Thanks, Morn, she's a little troublemaker. A smart little troublemaker! Which is worse, actually."

Clover collides with Morn's arm, pauses, then climbs carefully over it and keeps rolling merrily down the bar, picking up speed.

"Augh!" Quark lunges for her at the same moment that Odo shoots out one lengthened arm to catch her before she hits the ground. She turns to goo on the way down and splats into his hand, wraps around his wrist and forms a multitude of bubbles on her surface.

"You scared us half to death," Odo scolds gently, bringing his arm back to a normal length.

"Maybe... maybe you should have taught her to be a cube first," Quark manages, a hand clutching at his chest. "Those don't roll."

More bubbles form and break on Clover's still-golden surface, making a funny little sound, like popping candy. Odo looks them over, can't resist a little smile. "You may be right."

Odo's quarters are directly atop Quark's, so it isn't that much of a hassle to just have a trapdoor and a ladder installed. The two spaces can be separate, locked and shut with the door, or they can be accessible to each other.

Quark is in Odo's quarters at the moment, sprawled on a large cushion, watching Odo as he plays with Clover. He's dropped into his lionine form and Clover is rolling around in ball form, alternately chasing and being chased, darting around the room at a frankly alarming rate of speed.

"Should you be teaching her to go that fast?" Quark chuckles as Clover zooms by.

Odo shrugs his massive feline shoulders; he lacks the vocal structure to form words like this and he's not touching Quark to form a link, so verbal communication is out of the question.

"Uh-huh. You think it's cute." Quark yawns and stretches his arms out. "Isn't it about time for the two of you to be regenerating?"

Odo slips back into humanoid form, sitting with his legs folded criss-cross. Clover rolls from underneath his knee over to Quark, turns to liquid and crawls up into his lap. Odo gives one of his subtle smiles. "Clover doesn't seem tired," he says.

"Do they ever?"

Odo smiles a little stronger and rises out of his cross-legged position and onto all fours, makes his way over to Quark's cushion and leans in, eyes flicking to Quark's mouth. His intention is obvious and Quark almost automatically stretches to close the gap between them and kiss him. Odo's lips are thin but gentle and soft, the contact almost as comforting as the link that blooms warm between them.

I do love you, Odo's thoughts are clear and bright as he smiles against Quark's mouth. Quark can't reply, not really, he's a terrible telepath, but he hopes Odo gets the idea when he wraps both arms around Odo's neck and tugs him closer. (Judging by the happiness flaring in Odo's mind, he gets the point.)

The three of them make their way back down into Quark's quarters and settle into their customary sleeping arrangements. Odo forgoes his bucket most nights, especially now that Clover is in the picture; he prefers to keep a shape until Quark falls asleep, and then melt over him like a blanket.

Odo remains in his humanoid shape tonight. He lies on his back with Clover plastered, flat as a pancake, to his chest. Quark nestles in the crook of his arm, reaches and covers all three of them with the blanket. He props himself up on his elbow to lean down and kiss Odo good night.

"We oughta get someone to babysit sometime," he says, lowly, "I'm sure Rom would be happy to keep her overnight one of these days."

He watches Odo roll the idea around in his mind. "You're right," he replies, nuzzling his perfect awful beak of a nose against Quark's jaw. "We haven't had any time alone since Clover was born, have we?"

"Not even one second," Quark complains. "Not that a second would be enough time to--"

"Shh. They're right here."

"They don't know words yet!"

"And we aren't going to teach them any naughty ones."

"Odo, do you honestly think I was going to say 'f--'"

"QUARK--"

"--in front of the baby? I didn't say that in front of Nog til he was at least two."

"Wouldn't you love to open up trade with Ennien?" the catlike creature wheedles, fangs flashing. "You'd have exclusive rights. We could bring a new dawn to the Sivaoan people, you and I."

Quark weighs the idea heavily in his mind. "A new dawn, Schrall? Do us both a favor and just say what you mean," he says slowly. "You want my help peddling weapons."

"Ah, do we have some sudden moral scruple, Quark? Where was that distaste eight years ago?"

As feline as Schrall is, he's so unlike Odo's lionine form. Schrall is bony and sinewy, made of triangles and sharp corners. Odo's lion is sweetly rounded, made of circles.

"Why do you need the help, anyway?"

"I need a business partner. You have connections. I have Ennien. Don't help me; help yourself. Think of the profit," Schrall says. "An untapped market. Not just weapons, Quark. Anything you could think to sell."

Schrall is a canny, wily sort with a reputation too clean to be genuine. No weapons dealer has no enemies to speak of. It's expensive to pay people to stay silent or deliver false testimony, so whatever thing he's hiding must be bad enough to make the cost worthwhile.

Or perhaps those who get into disagreements with him don't survive.

Quark would know. He worked with him once before.

Schrall's claws drum against the tabletop as his bright, slitted eyes bore into Quark's skull. It makes Quark shiver, makes the prey-animal part of his brain scream at him to duck for cover.

He wants to say yes. A year ago, he wouldn't have thought about it, he'd already have placed his thumbprint on a contract. Schrall is right, Ennien is an untapped market, ever since the Long Death was fully eradicated on Eeiaou, and he's a great way in. But going into business with this man would mean seeing him regularly, having him aboard the station, and--

And if things went bad, Schrall would throw him out an airlock, either metaphorically or literally. Or maybe he'd just claw Quark's throat out.

Or, worse yet, perhaps he'd go after those Quark is close to?

"I can't make it work, Schrall."

Schrall gives a harsh, barking laugh and then falters when he sees Quark's face. "You're serious," he says, incredulously. "Why?" he demands. "Why can't you make it work?"

"I have a lot going on right now."

"Ah. Is my cut too big? Fine. Twenty percent."

"I can't take this kind of project on. You know how it is."

"Fifteen. No lower."

"This isn't about the money."

Schrall's feline eyes narrow, anger sparking there. "You owe me one," he says lowly. "Remember, Quark? Eight years is a long time, but I know you haven't forgotten."

"I don't owe you anything," Quark snaps, "what happened was your fault. It's only fair that you took the fall."

Schrall opens his mouth, drags his lips back over his teeth and hisses. Quark holds up a hand and continues.

"But, out of the goodness of my heart, I'll send you a few names of people who might want to work with you."

"Are you very sure, Quark? Old friend?"

"If I wasn't sure before," Quark replies, "I am now."

Schrall clicks his teeth, hisses. "You're a fool, Ferengi. You'll regret this."

Volatile. Scary. Not someone I want on the same station as...

He watches as Schrall lopes off on all fours, snarling and pushing past people unfortunate enough to get in his way.

He watches hundreds of thousands of bars, potentially, of gold-pressed latinum just... walk away.

And for what?

He needs a frinxing drink.

Quark seems a little bit shaken as he comes into the lab.

"Are you all right?" Odo asks as the baby makes their popping-candy sound and rolls over to the edge of the table toward Quark, who dutifully picks them up. They melt up against his chest in their interpretation of a hug, and Quark smiles faintly.

"I'm fine, why wouldn't I be fine?" He gathers Clover into his hands. "I'm just here to make sure you aren't boring her to tears."

"We're having fun," Odo says, motioning out over the table. He's replicated many different items for Clover to play with and mimic. Her favorites include a replica of an old set of skeleton keys, a combadge, a corkscrew, a picture book, and several belt buckles of various designs. Odo reaches out and takes Clover in his hands, sets them down on the table. "Go on, Clover," he encourages, "show Quark what you've been doing."

They ooze their way over to the picture book which lays opened on a colorful illustration. Clover stretches out atop it, a translucent amber, and then they ripple, their colors going opaque white and then splotches of color matching the illustration underneath them appear on their body. It isn't exact, but the colors are a match. Pride rises high in Odo's chest and he looks at Quark for his reaction.

For his part, Quark is grinning. "Kind of impressionistic," he says. "Our Clover's an artist! Isn't that right, baby?" he adds, reaching out to touch them. They quiver, probably with excitement, though it's hard to tell--and gently touch Quark's polished nails. Within seconds they've shaken the picture book colors off and taken on the teal-blue sheen of his nail polish. "Look at that!"

Quark is glowing with pride, a huge smile on his face as he watches Clover go play with their toys.

"They're clever," Odo says. "Their development is so advanced. I wasn't able to create colors like this until much later."

"Yeah, they are," Quark replies, warmth suffusing his voice as he leans his shoulder against Odo. "They're your kid. Of course they're clever." Quark grins. "Heh. Clever Clover."

Clover throws one of their skeleton keys on the floor, oozes a little over the edge of the table to watch it clatter to the ground. Her popping-candy bubbles form on her teal blue surface and she goes to play with another key.

"There's a mischief to them that I blame on you," Odo replies, "a certain... disregard for order, shall we say?"

"That's not very changeling-like of her. You're supposed to love order, aren't you?"

Odo shrugs. "Yes, well." He reaches out to pick Clover up, pulls them like taffy and drapes them across Quark's shoulders. "I also love you. So clearly there are exceptions to that rule."

Quark's eyes go as wide as one of his dabo wheels, his face dumbfounded.

"What?" Odo asks.

"That's the first time you've ever said that to me."

"Said what?"

A blush darkens Quark's ears. "That you love me."

"Nonsense," Odo scoffs. "I say it all the time."

"Nuh-uh." Quark shakes his head. "You say it in our link. You've never said it with your voice." He looks oddly vulnerable, even as a smile curves his mouth. "I've never heard it. It's different to hear it."

Sound is so important to Ferengi. Of course it matters to hear the words. He cradles Quark's face in his hands, dips to nuzzle their noses together. "I love you," he says again. Just above a whisper. Just for Quark.

Quark shivers, sighs. "I haven't said it either."

"You haven't had to. It's obvious when we link. I know it like I know my own self."

"But I wanna say it." He meets Odo's eyes. "I love you too."

He's right, Odo thinks as warmth and softness infuse through his entire being. He tilts his face to slot his mouth against Quark's, kiss him with all the sweetness he deserves. Hearing it is different.

Quark falls asleep in his favorite way--cuddled close by a lionine Odo, nestled in soft, dense fur. It's a luxurious kind of feeling made even better by the knowledge that Odo has crafted and fine-tuned this form with Quark's enjoyment in mind. It doesn't escape him how exclusive an experience this is, to have a changeling as a partner, and that exclusivity both excites and soothes the greedy, wanting center of his being.

So he sleeps very well and very deeply, dreaming wild and convoluted dreams, until there's a horrible crashing noise that shatters him into the waking world again.

"Augh!" Quark sits bolt-upright, eyes flicking around the room and blinking rapidly to adjust to the dark. He's thankful for his keen Ferengi eyes as he searches the dark for the source of the sound.

Odo, pooled in Quark's lap, slides off of him. What's going on? he asks, linking with Quark where they touch. Where's Clover?

"What do you mean, 'where's Clover,' isn't she here?! Are they under you or something?"

I'd know if they were under me, they aren't here!

Another smashing noise, closer this time, and Quark immediately spots the source of the noise. The bathroom door is open and an oozy little baby sits on the countertop, where they're haphazardly pushing objects onto the ground.

"Clover!" Quark cries, scrambling to his feet and throwing himself into the bathroom, dancing light on his feet to avoid treading on broken glass. "Those serums are expensive! Do you have any idea--ah, sweet profit, that came from an endangered snail," he whines as he notes exactly which bottle she broke. Expensive liquid seeps onto the floor. Very expensive liquid.

Clover makes her popping-candy sound and reaches out toward Quark with an excited, trembling appendage. It's like she's glad he's awake.

"You don't care how expensive it was," Quark sighs, scooping her up. "You don't even know what latinum is. You're just trying to play, huh? Got bored and decided to trash the place?" He holds her small, amorphous body against his chest and carries her into the bedroom again, gently dumping her on the bed. "Cuddle with your father," he grumbles. "I'm gonna go clean up your mess."

He hears Clover's merry crackling as he picks up shards of glass and tosses them into the nearest waste receptacle to be broken down. Then he mops up the incredibly valuable serum that the baby changeling so graciously threw on the ground.

He returns to bed and pulls the blankets up over himself. Odo presses himself to Quark's side and links on contact. Thank you for taking care of that, he says.

"You're a puddle. Someone's got to do it." He yawns and stretches. "Night, Odo."

Good night again.

Quark is on the verge of sleep when a squishy little something starts oozing up his face. "Clover?"

Popping. Like seltzer bubbles fizzing. He peels her off his face and sets her on his chest instead. She melts.

Once again, Quark is so close to sleep, and then tiny questing nubs of goo poke at his nose. He sneezes, which just makes Clover crackle louder. "No more of this," Quark says, trying to sound stern as he removes Clover and plops her onto Odo, who sends mild sleepy amusement through their link.

"Don't laugh at me, you overgrown bowl of pudding."

I don't have the anatomy for laughter right now.

Quark closes his eyes again and isn't at peace for more than half a minute.

Quark?

"What."

The baby left again. Somehow, Odo projects a hrmmf across their connection.

There is a sound like a marble rolling on a hard surface. "The baby--" Quark gives a frustrated noise through clenched teeth. "Computer, lights!"

The lights come on to reveal Clover in spherical shape tumbling in fast circles around the room, taking tight turns around furniture legs and undoubtedly looking for more stuff to get into.

"Odo," Quark says, "contain your child!"

I'm regenerating!

"You'll just have to regenerate a little later! We can't have Clover unsupervised while we're asleep. Who knows what she could destroy in here?!" He pauses, before adding a little quieter, "she could get hurt, Odo."

As if on cue, Clover approaches a wall, visibly changes in texture, and begins to roll up it.

"Case in point!" Quark gets up from the bed and grabs her. She's sticky all over for a second until she goes smooth and shiny again. "I guess we know how they got on the counter now."

When Quark turns back to the bed, Odo is in humanoid shape. "They'll run out of energy and get tired and then they'll have to regenerate just like any other changeling," Odo says, dutifully. "We'll just have to wait them out."

"Uh-huh," Quark says as Clover tugs at the cuffs of his pajama sleeves. "They're going to keep us up all night, Odo."

"They won't," Odo replies, gently peeling Clover from Quark's arms. "They will get tired."

Clover doesn't get tired.

It's a solid two hours into this apparent battle of wills and the baby is showing no signs of slowing down. They are as energetic and playful as they were two hours prior, which is exactly as energetic and playful as they had been all day. Odo has stayed in humanoid form, reading diligently off of his PADD and periodically extending a long tentacle to grab Clover away from somewhere dangerous.

"You can sleep, Quark. I have Clover, and you have a shift in the morning."

Try he does, but Clover's not quiet, and Odo's constant moving to guide her away from danger is impossible to sleep through.

Hour three passes by and Quark sits up again. "This is horrible," he announces. "There has to be a better way."

"What do you propose?" Odo's voice sounds ragged.

"Put her in the brig."

"Quark."

"I'm serious!"

"So am I! We are not putting Clover in the brig."

"Hear me out. A holding cell has forcefields all through the walls and bulkheads. There's no shifting out of that." Quark holds up his hands. "There's also constant surveillance. The brig is probably the safest place to be on this entire damn station."

Odo thinks about it for a long moment. Clover tries to climb the wall again. Odo pulls her gently back down to ground level. "You may have a point," he concedes.

"We have to sleep, Odo," Quark wheedles, pressing his wrists together. "Please. Let's just try it. I can't go on like this. She's going to keep us up all night."

"Very well," Odo sighs, "but I don't intend to leave her there alone."

"One step ahead of you," Quark says, already yanking the comforter from the bed and wrapping it around his shoulders like the largest, worst-fitting cape imaginable.

So the three of them make their way to the brig. Odo dismisses the officer on duty (nobody is in the cells right now anyway) and sets Clover up in one of the smaller cells.

They furnish the cell with her teddy bear and baby blanket and a nice bucket and several toys to play with, and then Quark curls right on the floor wrapped in his comforter like hasperat. Clover, for their part, seems to enjoy exploring the new area and instinctively avoids the forcefield.

"Night, Odo," Quark mumbles.

Good night, Quark.

When Quark blinks blearily into the world of the waking, Odo is frowning deeply at a computer display behind the brig console.

"G'morning," Quark mumbles, "what're you looking at?"

"I'm reviewing last night's footage. From the holding cell Clover was in."

"Huh. Where's Clover now?"

"Still in the holding cell."

"I don't see 'em."

Odo looks at Quark with raised brow ridges for just a moment before Quark realizes the monumental stupidity of what he just said.

"Right, changeling, camouflage, okay." He approaches the cell. "Can you turn off the forcefield?"

Odo taps on the console. Immediately Clover is visible, rolling over to Quark and clinging to his ankle. They remain the color they were, a boring gray-beige to match the floor. "Hey, little thing," he greets, reaching down to scoop them up. He pulls her a little and drapes her over his shoulders, where she promptly takes on the colors of his pajamas. "You're getting pretty good at that. You've been practicing!"

"All night," Odo says, his brow furrowed as much as it can be.

"Wait, all night? They were awake the whole night?"

"I've been through the surveillance data and they weren't unmoving for longer than five minutes at a time."

"They seem fine," Quark says, shrugging his shoulders. Clover curls around his front to mess with the elaborate closure at his collar.

"It's been well over sixteen hours now." Odo abandons the console and steps closer to peer hawkishly down at the baby. "This simply shouldn't be possible."

"Why not? What happens if you don't regenerate?"

Odo grimaces. "It isn't exactly something I can avoid doing. But if rendered unable to shift by some outside means, my morphogenic matrix destabilizes and I rapidly begin to--decay, once my sixteen hours elapse."

Quark really, really doesn't like that Odo knows that. He decides not to ask questions he wouldn't enjoy the answers to and files it away for later. "She doesn't look like she's decaying," he says as Clover stretches a little tentacle out toward Odo, who automatically holds out his hand for her to wrap partially around.

"Still, I'd like Doctor Bashir to scan them," Odo says, dubiously. The bit of Clover twined with his fingers turn a soft, creamy beige to match him near perfectly.

"No reason not to," Quark replies on a shrug.

"This is fascinating," Doctor Bashir says, blinking at the test results. "She's perfectly all right. But this is--very unusual."

"How so?"

"Every life form has--think of it as a set of batteries. Energy depletes and it must be replenished. Most sleep. Or regenerate, in your case. Some don't, and instead get their energy refill through other means; through eating more food or drink, or sometimes chemically, photosynthetically, or even through harnessing different types of radiation and converting it to--"

"Doctor," Odo says, patience wearing thin.

"This energy depletion between replenishment cycles is actually measurable. But our dear Clover," Doctor Bashir says, "appears to not require any sort of rest or sustenance. Odo, if you'd allow me to scan you?"

"By all means."

"Fascinating," Bashir repeats, looking down at his bleeping tricorder. "Apparently you don't need any, either."

Odo huffs. "Then this test means nothing. I do have to regenerate. Clover appears not to."

"I don't know what to tell you, Odo." Bashir runs a hand over his hair. "Perhaps Doctor Mora could be of more assistance?"

"Permission granted. Though," Sisko steeples his fingers, "you don't need my permission to invite someone aboard, Constable, so what is this really about?"

Odo straightens up, clasps his hands behind his back. "Doctor Mora's arrival will be strictly regarding Clover's health," he says. "I have no intention to let them become a laboratory experiment or a weapon against the Dominion. I have no intention of letting them into Starfleet's custody and I have no intention of forcing them to grow faster than they please."

Sisko blinks, his facial expression unchanged and unsurprised. "I haven't felt the need to let Starfleet Command know that one of the crew had a child," he says with a little shrug.

"You haven't?"

"I didn't hand-write them a letter when Kirayoshi was born. Why would I? And why should Clover be any different?"

Odo inclines his head. "Thank you, Captain, for your discretion."

"I imagine that Starfleet's opinion on the matter may be very different than mine," Sisko continues on, gaze steely. "Your child's existence won't be under wraps forever. It can't. I may receive some unfortunate orders regarding them."

Odo meets his gaze. "Quark has a family home on Ferenginar, which I hear is lovely this time of year. I'm sure Clover would love it." He pauses. "Please let me know if I'll be needing to tender my resignation."

Sisko smiles, looks a little relieved. "I was hoping you'd say something like that."

"You were?"

"Yes. If it's between letting two changelings disappear to Ferenginar, or letting a father keep his child aboard the station safe and unbothered... I'm sure it will be a very easy decision for Starfleet to make." His eyes sparkle. "Will you let me teach them to play baseball once they can take humanoid shape?"

"Of course, Captain."

Mora Pol has the shaky energy of a delighted man trying to hide it.

Quark has seen it many times at the tongo table, inexperienced bluffers and terrible liars alike. Mora is clearly both.

"Odo!" He holds out his hand, grasps Odo's tightly when he takes it. "I was so glad to hear about the baby! I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it up here during your pregnancy, I--"

"It's quite all right, Doctor Mora," Odo says, raising a hand, "you've been kept busy."

Mora turns to Quark, his excited grin not faltering. "Quark, it's good to see you as well, of course! Keeping Odo in line?"

"I assure you it's quite the reverse," Odo huffs, crossing his arms.

"I do what I can," Quark says with mock solemnity, "but he's a troublemaker, I tell you. Not as much as his kid, though."

"The child! Yes, where is it?!"

Odo bristles and opens his mouth to speak; Quark lays a hand on Odo's arm and gets there first. "They," Quark corrects, "are right here, actually." He peels Clover off of his shoulder with his other hand, folds her into a little ball; she turns amber and molds playfully against his fingers.

Mora's eyes widen to the size of dabo wheels. "They're shifting so well already, I didn't even see them there."

"Their name is Clover," Odo says.

"May I hold them?"

"Mm." Odo nods once, and Quark gently tips Clover into Doctor Mora's cupped hands.

They shiver for a second before wrapping around Mora's fingers. "Hello, little one," Mora says softly, bringing her closer to his face. "Do you remember me?"

She reaches out, gently touches the ridges at the bridge of Mora's nose. Within seconds, her whole tiny body becomes ridged to match.

He breathes sharply, jaw dropping open. "I--They--?!"

"They're very talented," Odo says, pride riding high on his tone.

"I thought perhaps them taking on the color of your coat was a camouflage response, automatic, perhaps, but this!" He laughs. "You, Clover, are an incredible little child!"

"That's a pretty good texture she's got there," Quark observes, peering closer. "She's just started to do textures. Her new hobby."

"What I've brought you here to discuss, Doctor Mora," Odo says as Clover coils herself snakelike around Mora's wrists, "is the fact that Clover has gone three solid days now without regenerating."

Mora's eyes snap up to meet Odo's. "Three days?"

"Three extremely tiring days!" Quark crossed his arms. "You ever tried sleeping while a baby changeling is wrecking your bedroom?"

"At this stage in his development, Odo spent almost half his time regenerating," Mora says, brow furrowing.

Quark scoffs. "If only we could be that lucky."

"We'd better run some tests on them. Lead the way."

"So the tests told us a whole lot of nothing." Quark shuffles the deck of tongo cards. "She's just a weird changeling that doesn't have to sleep. Nobody can explain it."

"That's bizarre," Jadzia hums, "almost as bizarre as you losing three times in a row."

He hisses at her halfheartedly before he stands and takes a few steps toward the bar. "You want anything?"

"No, thanks." She sips from her glass. "Still working on this."

"It's got to be mostly water by now. Suit yourself," Quark sighs, pouring himself a pretty good vintage of snail ale. He hears the bar doors open. "Bar's closed, unless you're Odo," Quark says without turning around.

"Then you're in luck," Odo's voice sounds. "Commander," Odo greets Jadzia, who smiles and nods.

Clover is in her silly baby carrier strapped to Odo's front. She reaches out toward Quark and he plucks her from it, pulls her like taffy, lays her over his shoulders. She makes her popping, crackling sound and nestles around his neck. "I got her," he says. "You go do your thing."

"Thank you," Odo murmurs, "this won't last long."

"Go right home afterward, okay? Clover and I will be up after I've beaten Jadzia at a game."

"Understood." He leans down to press a kiss to Quark's mouth, soft and lingering, before he turns and leaves the bar.

"Something with Doctor Mora," Quark says by way of explanation as he returns to the tongo wheel. "I think. He's leaving tomorrow. Which is really quick, but he's on Earth working with Starfleet, so..." Quark shrugs. "Clover likes him."

"She's adorable," Jadzia says, watching Clover slither down Quark's arm to wrap around his wrist. They turn gold like his cufflinks and textured like Doctor Mora's ridges.

"Isn't she?" Quark says dreamily as he deals out cards. "If only she slept."

"Can't imagine what it's like to have a baby that never sleeps," Dax says, sympathy clear in her voice. "A regular baby is hard enough. Are you still keeping her in the brig at night?"

"Ah, no! Chief O'Brien helped us rig up a containment field in our quarters. So we keep her in a, uh, playpen, upstairs. And there's blessed soundproofing in the floor between the upstairs and downstairs," Quark adds, "so she can be as busy as she wants all night and not keep anybody--me--up." He takes a look at his cards. "Evade."

"Acquire," Jadzia says, and spins the wheel. "Looks like she's doing an amazing job learning to shift."

She crawls down onto the tongo wheel, and Quark grins, gives it a gentle spin just for her. She clings tight, bubbles forming and popping all over her body. "I think that's her laugh," he explains, slowing down the wheel. It stops with Clover right in front of Jadzia, who mirrors Quark's smile when Clover reaches out toward her with three excited, quivering tendrils.

"Hi, Clover, I'm Jadzia Dax," she says, scooping the baby up in her hands. Clover extends themself out, pats Jadzia's forehead and temples gently for a long second before spots, just like Jadzia's, appear all over their body.

Jadzia gasps, delighted. "They're mimicking me! Quark, do you see this?!"

Quark wins the game.

"It's because my lucky Clover is here now," he crows. Clover is sitting on his shoulder and playing with a few slips of latinum. He pets her, nuzzles his nose against her tiny, amorphous body.

"Your lucky Clover?"

"Clovers, they're an Earth plant. If you find one with four leaves, it's lucky!"

Dax smiles at him.

"What?" Quark asks, brow furrowing.

"You're a dad, all right," she says slowly, "never thought I'd see the day."

"I--what?! No. No, I--a dad? I can't be. I don't know anything about being a parent." He forces a laugh as fear grips him.

"That's not true," Jadzia says patiently. "You've been a parent."

"No, I haven't!"

"Yes, you have." She smiles. "I gave that to you. I gave you Audrid."

"Your brain thing? Dax, that wasn't..."

Audrid. Her memories may not still be with Quark, but he remembers having them.

"It was," Jadzia says. "Hosting another person in your mind leaves something behind, Quark. I know you remember what it was like to have her with you."

"Yeah, it was awful," Quark grumbles.

"Was it?" Jadzia's eyes are steely, and Quark sighs.

"No," he admits. "She taught me how to braid hair."

"What was it like? What did she feel, for me? What did she feel when she thought of her kids?"

What had she felt?

Quark swallows, remembering the several hours in Jadzia's quarters, Audrid at the helm, Quark a passenger. It had been an odd feeling to have his synapses used by another person. But it was still his brain, and he felt what Audrid felt, knew her thoughts.

It was almost like a very deep link with Odo, but... different. With Odo, there are still two bodies and two minds involved. Here there had only been one, one brain with its memories partitioned carefully off by a telepath too good at his job and yet not good enough to keep them totally separate.

"Love," he says, truthfully.

"Love?" Jadzia prompts.

"Yeah."

"What kind of love, Quark?"

"Whaddya mean, what kind? It was love. She loves you. She loves her kids. That's it."

"Like the love you feel for me?"

"What? No. I mean--" Quark sighs. "Jadzia. This was--it was powerful, okay?"

"Describe it."

Quark closes his eyes. It had felt like there was nothing Audrid wouldn't have done for them. She would have killed. She would have fought and died. She would have suffered. There wasn't a limit.

If she had been Ferengi, she would have given up profitable business opportunities for them.

The backs of Quark's eyeballs sting.

"I get it, Dax," he says, tightly. "Okay? I get it."

He expects her to look smug, but when he opens his eyes, she just looks... soft.

For a split second, he swears he sees Audrid on her face; just a flash of her, fearless and gentle and ferocious in her devotion.

Can Quark really hope to match that kind of ferocity? It's what Clover deserves.

"She liked being a Ferengi," Dax says. "Too bad I didn't think to give her oo-mox, huh? I'd love to have those memories and know what that's like."

The somber mood shatters and a laugh spikes unbidden from Quark's chest. "I'm sure you would," he wheezes. "Maybe next time, huh?"

"I'll give you four slips if you watch Clover tomorrow night."

Nog raises a brow ridge challengingly. "Four?"

"Frinxing--" Quark swears under his breath. "Fine, one strip and two slips. Please. I don't need her coming along to this meeting, okay, and her father is finally taking a security shift again, so--"

"Uncle, relax," Nog says, nudging Quark's shoulder. "Jake and I will watch her. Four slips is fine," he adds.

The way Nog spoke--Jake and I, like a unit--makes Quark pause. "You and Jake, huh?"

A grin breaks out over Nog's face. "Yeah," he says, dreamily.

It's a little bit of a surprise, but not that much. "Well, good," Quark says. "Everyone knows you're not gonna make any latinum from Starfleet, so I'm glad to hear you're shacking up with a boy who could really rake in the bars. If he took my advice and started writing holosuite programs, that is."

"It's not about latinum, Uncle," Nog says, patiently. "Can I hold her?"

"Everything is about latinum," Quark grumbles before he unwinds Clover from around his wrist and holds her out to Nog. Nog takes her; she melts in his hands for a second before she turns roughly Nog's skin tone, but with Bajoran nose ridges and Trill spots all over.

"What's she doing?!"

"Oh. She's mixing and matching the different people she's met recently." Quark shrugs. "Her latest hobby."

Nog giggles and she wraps herself around his forearm. "I think she likes me!"

"Yeah, she does. She likes everybody." Quark pauses. "Nog? Can I ask you something?"

"Mmhmm."

"Was I a good uncle?"

Nog laughs. "No," he says instantly, shaking his head. "You were terrible!"

Quark doesn't know what he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been that. He feels his face fall.

Nog must see his dismay before Quark can mask it, because he quickly backtracks. "I mean--you were good when it counted. You taught me a lot!"

"Sure," he says, but he knows Nog was right with his knee-jerk response. He was terrible, wasn't he? He'd never engaged with Nog's interests. All he'd done is act as slave driver. He knew Nog as a tiny infant, and as a near-adult. For most of the in between, Quark had been serving on that damned freighter. "Stop trying to make me feel better, Nog. It's fine." He forces a smile. "You just be a better cousin to Clover than I was an uncle to you, okay? Not that it's a high bar to get over."

The doors to the holosuite open and Quark steps inside before the doors close again. He looks shaken, ruffled. "Odo? Clover?"

Odo pulls himself out of the tree he's in, flits down and takes humanoid form to alight on his feet in front of Quark, leaning down to give him a soft kiss in greeting. Quark kisses back before pulling away and smiling crookedly up at him. "Nice feathers you had there," he says.

"A Trellan parrot," Odo explains. "Colorful. Clover liked it best."

"Speaking of. Where is she and what is all this?"

"Clover is--around, somewhere," Odo chuckles. "This is practice. And reference. I can call any object or animal into existence for them to mimic. Watch this. Computer, one Terran housecat, female, shorthair, calico markings."

A cat appears in the middle of the grass nearby, and then, as if on cue, Clover appears out of the grass as well; they'd been mimicking a rock, apparently. "Oh, there they are! Clover!"

"They want to show you their tricks," Odo murmurs, "watch."

Clover reaches out and gently touches the cat, which stands there placidly like the holosuite program it is. Clover pets it, prods it, manipulates its limbs. And then carefully they shift and become... something.

"Oh, Blessed Exchequer, that's horrifying," Quark says, "um--I mean. Good job, Clover! Uh, more eyes is better than less eyes, I always say!"

Odo laughs softly and Clover's furred, feathered, misshapen little body vibrates in what is probably an attempt at a purr. "Eyes are difficult, it's actually a wonder that they can manifest so many of them at once."

"It's, uh, an interesting take on a cat. It's unique! Our Clover is an innovator," Quark says, tilting his head. "The feathers are a nice touch, too."

"Mm. Most of the forms she's taken on have included feathers."

Clover-as-a-cat reaches awkwardly up toward Quark with outstretched limbs, limbs that are too long and too knobbly to be a cat's. The message is clear: pick me up! Quark grimaces, but obeys the child, scooping them into his arms and trying not to make horrified sounds at the way Clover seems to be filled with bones that aren't necessarily connected to each other.

"Ah, hell," Quark swears quietly; Odo knows he's pitching his voice low and sweet so that Clover doesn't think he's upset. "Who's the most awful little kitty cat? Who's the cutest abomination aboard this whole station?"

Odo would be affronted by the words, but the way they're said is so soft, so gentle. Quark is nuzzling his nose against Clover's tiny misshapen muzzle, a fond smile on his face as he coos to her.

And beyond that, his purr is rumbling low in his chest.

Helpless, Odo reaches out, brushes his fingers against Quark's arm. Turns to liquid, forms their link. Surface-level, instinctive. Quark's emotions are right there, clear as stars. Emotions that Odo mirrors when it comes to Clover.

What Quark is actually saying doesn't matter. What his heart says is what counts, and someday, Clover will learn to link and feel that for themself. But, as Odo watches Clover blink their dozens of eyes and nuzzle their feline-esque face clumsily against Quark's, he's pretty sure they feel it already.

As their link deepens, there's another emotion there, though, lower down; something Quark is subconsciously repressing, or worse, deliberately attempting to hide. Odo tries to identify the feeling.

Fear? Apprehension?

Disgust?

Disgust--with Clover?

Odo pulls back from the link, shaken, smooths down his uniform unnecessarily. "Commander Dax and the Major will be watching them this evening," he says. Quark's eyes flit up to meet Odo's.

"So we'll be alone?" he asks, in hopeful disbelief.

"That's the idea," Odo hums, distressed, distracted. He can't make sense of Quark's feelings.

Quark grins.

"Are you afraid of them?" Odo blurts out the second Jadzia and Kira have left with Clover in tow.

"Who, the Major? Yeah, big time, who isn't?"

"No. I mean Clover."

Quark looks shocked for a second. "What? No. Why would I be scared of Clover?!"

"Because they're a changeling," Odo says, blunt as a spoon. "Because their attempts at imitating other life forms are--repulsive to you."

"What are you talking about?" Quark crosses his arms, looks up at Odo, head tilted. "I'm not sure what you're getting at but I'm pretty sure I'm offended."

"Offended? Don't make me laugh, and don't lie to me. Not about this." Odo's eyes narrow. "Remember? I linked with you when you were holding Clover."

Quark's jaw drops. Odo continues on.

"Sure, you're fond of them, I felt that as well. But there was something else there. You were frightened!" Odo crosses his arms. "More than that. You were disgusted."

"I'm not disgusted with Clover, and I'm not scared because she's a changeling!"

"Then what about them strikes such fear in you?! They're only a baby, Quark!"

"I--"

"They haven't done anything to warrant your revulsion!"

"Odo, it's not about her, it's about me!" Quark's words are sharp, his eyes wild. "I'm scared of--fuck it," he swears, reaching out and flattening his palm against Odo's.

Odo turns his hand to liquid and flows between Quark's fingers, lowers the touch-telepathic barrier and forges their connection as easy as anything. He slides deeper into Quark's mind than before, Quark almost pulling him in.

There's a memory at the forefront of Quark's psyche. Jadzia. Late at night. Before Clover was born.

"Tobin was scared to be a father, too," Jadzia had said, and Quark had felt terror, terror, terror

The memory shifts, Rom's face comes into focus, there in the bar,

"You're her fafa!" he'd said cheerily and Quark had felt terror and warmth, warmth, warmth

Another shift and--

Quark had laid there on his cushion watching Clover and Odo play and gambol around the room and Clover had rolled up to him and reached out to be held and so Quark did, he picked her up and held her and felt warmth and love, love, love

Quark's grip on Odo's hand tightens.

A new memory surfaces, crisp and sharp in its detail. Earlier today.

Nog. Fear? Love.

"Was I a good uncle?" Quark had asked, hoping for some kind of reassurance that he knew he wouldn't get

"No," and Nog had laughed, had thought the question hilarious

Quark's mind is clouded with fear and disgust, yes, but it is aimed inward.

"Do you see the problem?" Quark speaks, his voice sounding hollow. Odo hears it through his own senses as well as through Quark's ears, linked as close as they are. "Do you get it? Everyone thinks I'm her dad, Odo, and the worst part is, I was starting to think so too." Distress, despair. It clouds Odo's mind, mists over his thoughts. Quark continues, his voice thick. "I'm not cut out for this. The only thing I'm fit to give that kid is a complex."

His other hand moves to Quark's chin, tips his face up to meet Odo's eyes. "You're as much their parent as I am, whether you feel up to the job or not," Odo says, firmly.

"You literally gave birth to them, all I did was--"

"Was stay by my side the entire time? Protect them with your own body?"

"Odo..."

"Just because they used me to gain their strength back doesn't mean I am her father. Clover is a changeling--almost certainly one of the hundred sent out by the Founders, just like me. If you want to be literal, they're more a sibling than--"

"Stop it," Quark says roughly. "You're their father, and you know it."

He nods. "Yes," he says, "I am. And that is because I love them as such. For no other reason."

"I'm not parent material," Quark protests again, "I'm not even uncle material."

"And without you, I would still be attempting to coax Clover into spheres and cubes."

A tiny huff of a chuckle. "Still can't believe you didn't just figure out she was bored."

"You're the one who figured out that she was crying on her first night outside me," Odo murmurs. "You're the one who named her, Quark."

He can't bear to put sound to his next words, rests his forehead down against Quark's and projects the thoughts across their bond. Not all the fear in this link is yours. He swallows hard, unnecessarily, a holdover gesture from his time as a solid. You had parents, Quark, you had a childhood. I did not. How am I supposed to give one to a child?

"You're doing a good job."

I need you. And so does Clover.

Quark closes his eyes, sighs shakily. "You really want me to be your kid's dad?"

"As much as it shocks and pains me to say it," Odo says loftily, using verbal words again and bringing their old game into it before he drops his voice to a soft, sincere tone, "yes, Quark. Very much."

His eyes open back up. Blue ringed with smudged crimson. "I guess someone has to make sure you don't corrupt them too badly with your bizarre non-Ferengi values."

"I suppose you'll be teaching them to fashion a pair of lobes for themself before too long."

"If they're my kid, they'll have the lobes for business," Quark says, "and that's what matters." He smiles lopsidedly up at Odo. "You wanna go out and get something to eat? Take a walk? Take a holosuite for a spin? We could try out that hang-gliding program."

"Why, Quark, are you asking me out on a date?"

"That depends. Are you saying yes?"

"That depends," Odo replies, voice dropping low, "will you take me back home afterward?"

Quark's eyes widen, his smile turning mischievous, filthy. "How late have Jadzia and Kira got the baby?"

"Until morning."

"Then of course I will," Quark says, voice colored with the rumble of his purr.

Transitioning back to full-time work as security chief has been good for Odo. He knows he thrives on that kind of order, the structure that a regular work schedule brings. Allowances must be made for Clover, obviously. Today, they have kept Odo company as he completed numerous security reports that had piled up.

And now, they flop boredly over his shoulders as the clock strikes 2500. The bar is closed. Odo stands.

"Time to go collect your fafa, darling." Clover wraps loosely around Odo's neck, takes on a pink color that Odo and Quark have come to realize means they're pleased with something. "Yes, Clover? Do you know what that means?"

No response. Clover reaches to touch Odo's combadge and he reflexively draws it inside his body to keep it away from them. They've attempted to make calls several times today.

Odo is very aware that once they learn to speak, it's all over for him.

After all this time, Odo still looks forward to this part of his day; making his way to the closed bar, gathering Quark up, and strolling by his side all the way back to their quarters. He remembers shortening his steps to make the trip last longer, to get just a few more seconds with him.

After that first night he slept next to Quark in that biobed too small for the two of them, he knew he was ruined, that he never wanted to spend a night any other way.

He pauses in the doorway of the bar as he hears quiet voices within. He softens his footsteps automatically, doesn't try to hide himself but doesn't drag attention either.

A felinoid male is leaning over the bar, and Quark is on the other side. The felinoid is muscled, but whipcord-thin, covered in a layer of flat, short tawny fur. His forelegs rest on the bartop, paws large and bony.

"...check to see if you'd reconsidered," the man says, his voice a reedy, raspy thing.

"Sorry, Schrall. Best wishes, but I'm not interested." Quark's eyes are narrowed and severe, and the feline--Schrall?--hisses.

"Eight years I spent in that hell to cover for you," he spits, "and--"

"You weren't covering for me, it was your fault you were caught and you--"

"Don't give me that, Quark, you and I both know--"

"If the deal was anything other than weapons, maybe, but I've got people other than myself to think about and--"

"You weren't thinking of me when the Latinum Queen was raided, were you?!"

One of Schrall's claws shoots out and catches Quark's collar, yanks him down and forward; Quark squeaks unhappily and Odo steps forward.

"Gentlemen," Odo says, and Schrall's head swivels like an Idanian owl, predator eyes fixing on Odo. "Is there a problem?"

There's a long pause before Schrall unhooks his claw from Quark's shirt and drops him onto the bar. He bares his teeth in an odd cattish smile that doesn't belong on his face. "No, there isn't. I was just reminiscing about old times with Quark, here." He pulls back from the bar and Odo realized he's a quadruped; he crosses the bar toward Odo before standing upright on his back feet to meet Odo's eyes properly. "Schrall of-Srallansre. And this must be the baby I've heard so much about." He motions toward Clover, who currently is covered in downy feathers and fur. "Very cute."

"Has Quark told you about them?" Odo asks tightly.

"No, no. They're a celebrity around this station, you know." Schrall looks over his shoulder to Quark. "I'll be here again in another week and a half. In case you change your mind."

"I won't, so don't bother," Quark says shortly. Schrall shrugs, drops back to all fours, and lopes out of the bar.

Quark lets out a ragged sigh, straightens his shirt front and jacket. "Just in time, Constable."

"That looked unpleasant." Odo steps closer to the bartop and looks Quark over. "Is everything all right?"

"Just a former associate who can't take the hint that he's going to remain a former associate." Quark shakes himself out. "He was proposing a bad deal."

"It appears that any deal with him would be a bad deal." Clover crawls down Odo's arm and stretches out toward Quark.

"Precisely why I didn't take it." Quark smiles as Clover reaches for him, picks them up and cradles them. They climb halfway up his shirt, clinging there. "Hey, Clover. You didn't give your daddy too much trouble today, did you?"

"She's absolutely unmanageable. She takes after you." Odo kisses one of the bony, rounded bumps on Quark's forehead.

"Your daddy's a liar," Quark stage-whispers to Clover, whose feathers ripple and shift colors seemingly at random before settling into fluffy fur. Quark makes a delighted noise and pets her. "This is great, what is it, chinchilla? Ooh, Clover, remember this one." He hops onto his tiptoes to put his head within kissing range again, and Odo dutifully lays another on the other rounded bump. "Alright. Show's over. Time to go home."

Odo is minding his business in the security office when Quark swings by. He looks loose-limbed and happy, and Odo smiles.

"What can I do for you?"

"Nothing much, I just wanted to say thanks for taking Clover today!"

Odo blinks. Quark continues.

"It was nice to be able to take a shower without worrying about a tiny voyeur peeking at me! Anyway--"

"You don't have Clover?"

Quark pauses. "You don't have Clover?"

Odo stands abruptly. "I assumed you'd left them with Nog!"

"I didn't! I figured you'd taken her!"

Odo says a Bajoran swear that he hopes isn't translatable but from the way Quark's eyes widen, it might be. Odo taps his combadge. "Odo to all available security staff, we have a lost child, description: changeling, begin search procedures and postpone all departures from the station."

"I-I'm gonna check her favorite places." Quark scampers off, and Odo is about to head toward the habitat ring when his combadge bleeps softly.

"Sisko to Odo, report to my office immediately."

"On my way."

He'll need to recruit the help of Ops to locate Clover anyway. Fear burns through him; he makes it to Ops in record time.

"Captain," he says immediately as Sisko's office doors slide open, "I am afraid I have a favor to--"

Sisko is in his chair, facing away from the door. He spins back around to face Odo. There is a very serious look on his face, and a very misshapen attempt at what appears to be a small dog in his lap.

"Clover," Odo gasps, laying a hand over his chest. "Captain. I apologize. Quark thought I had them, and I thought Quark--"

"You ought to let Quark know you've found them," Sisko says, a tiny smile quirking his mouth. Odo nods and taps his combadge.

"Odo to Quark. Clover is with the Captain."

"The Captain?! How'd she--nevermind, tell him to come get a drink on the house!"

"On the house," Sisko muses, unflinchingly petting Clover's fur and feathers and... scales? They've got two muzzles poking out at odd angles, they're covered in ears, and have at least four eyeballs. Sisko pets them nonetheless, and they vibrate a little, letting out an awkward purring sound. "That's unusual."

Odo clasps his hands behind his back. He's pretty sure he hasn't been this embarrassed in a long, long time. "Captain, I'm very sorry about this."

"Don't be. Clover has been nothing but wonderful." He pauses. "After Chief O'Brien got them out of the Jefferies' tubes."

Odo tries not to flinch. "The Jefferies' tubes, sir?"

"Mm. Something has been causing mayhem all morning. At least now we know it was just a toddler that got lost."

"Again. You have my sincerest apologies."

Sisko stands and holds Clover out to Odo. He takes them in his arms and they vibrate louder, their dozens of oddly-placed teeth chattering. "Odo, I'll let you in on a secret. Things like this happen to every parent. Even parents of normal, solid children with normal, solid abilities. Kids wander off. Kids get into things they aren't supposed to. You mess up. Sometimes the kid even gets hurt. And you get scared as hell, and you do better next time." He shrugs. "This time, there was no harm done. So don't beat yourself up too hard this time." His eyes go serious. "But do better next time."

"Thank you, Captain."

"Dismissed. And Odo?"

"Yes?"

Sisko smiles. "I like dogs. If you need a sitter, you know where to find me."

Handoff procedures regarding the baby get much more controlled and standardized. Verbal communication is established between them every time the baby changes hands, and her whereabouts are known at all times.

Julian, for his part, likes babysitting Clover. Quark asked him to watch her this evening so that he could take Odo on a date in a holosuite, and Julian was more than pleased to agree.

"Doctor, I see you've acquired a new scarf." Garak eyes Julian's neck. "The color is fetching on you, but I'm afraid fur is off-trend this year."

"Not a scarf--a baby." Julian pets her and she shivers and changes color, settling into a hot pink.

Garak tentatively sits down next to Julian on the sofa, his eyes still fixed on the baby. "I see miss Clover has learned new tricks."

"Why do you look so nervous, Garak? They're a child."

"Precisely the reason for the nerves, my dear! Cardassian children are difficult enough, but a changeling child?"

"Nonsense. This one is far less likely to bite you, for one thing." Julian carefully plucks Clover from around his neck and holds them out to Garak. "Here."

"Must I hold him?"

"Yes, Garak, you really must." Clover sprouts a few twitching ears that look suspiscously Pomeranian-esque. "Look at that. They're adorable."

"She's... something," Garak says delicately, but holds out his hands. Julian drops Clover into Garak's cupped hands and they pause, reaching out with a few little appendages to feel the hands she's been placed in. "How pleasant," Garak says, dryly, holding them a little closer to his face to observe them. "My, my. Mixing fur with feathers is a bold statement, Clover. You might be a trendsetter."

"You just told me fur was out this season."

Garak gives a lizard smirk. "It looks better on him."

"Ah. I see." Fondness for his fiance grasps Julian's heart and violently shakes it like a dog with a chew toy.

"Dear," Garak says, sounding alarmed, "they're making--hands. Paws? Is that normal?"

"For a changeling baby? I'm sure it is."

Clover reaches out toward Garak's face with two trembling, amorphous little arms. "What are they doing?!" Garak's voice sounds concerned.

"Trying to see if you're edible, probably."

"Very funny, but I--"

Garak falls silent as Clover's goopy little paws--hands?--flatten out over the ridges around his eyes. Within seconds, they pull back into a little ball of slime, and then, like magic, they shiver and change. They become gray all over, their surface takes on a soft, scaled quality; and, most noticeably of all--

In the future, Julian will pinpoint this as the moment Garak really started to love the baby.

"She's copied me." Disbelief shadows Garak's voice, but a smile lights up his features. "Ridges. All over."

"She likes them," Julian replies, nudging Garak gently with his elbow.

Garak clears his throat, struggles to clear the softness from his expression. He holds Clover out to Julian again. "Take this child from me at once."

"Sick of them already?"

"No, Doctor, I simply mean that if you don't take them now, I fear I won't give them back at all."

"I want Clover and you to have access to my accounts if I kick it," Quark says one night, flat on his back on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

Odo had been occupying his lionine form, but Quark's statement apparently has him wanting to use some humanoid speech abilities. He shifts into human shape and regards Quark with that benevolently off-putting hawkishness he usually does. "Planning on dying anytime soon?" He raises a brow ridge. "I'm afraid I don't have room for that in my schedule. You'll have to put it off."

"Lucky for you, I'm not planning on dropping dead for at least another three hundred years."

"Mm. Then why worry about the accounts?"

"It's about the principle of the thing."

"Changelings have very little use for latinum, you know."

"Yeah, so you'll probably do something stupid with it, like give it to--" he shudders theatrically "--charity. But that would be your call, I'd be dead, I wouldn't care anymore."

"Don't you believe in some kind of afterlife?"

"You're derailing this discussion. I'm going to put you and Clover on my accounts."

Odo hmms, nods. "Very well." He affectionately runs the flat of his hand up Quark's chest, rests at a clavicle. "I understand this is a grand gesture for your people. It is appre--"

"Grand gesture? Hah! It's purely practical!"

"In that case, I don't appreciate it at all."

"Good. You're not welcome." Quark nestles into Odo's side, his purr rolling softly in his chest. Odo's skin goes soft, linking on contact.

Any preference on form this evening?

"Mm. This is good." Quark noses at the column of Odo's throat, kisses where his pulse point should be. He's got all sorts of funny folds and wrinkles here at his jaw and neck, like he can't entirely work out how his face should attach. It's endearing, and he chuckles.

"What?"

"Just imagining how messed-up your lion probably looks under all the fur."

"I could show you, if you like."

"No, thank you!"

Clover doesn't stay in strict physical contact with Quark all the time anymore when she hangs out with him in the bar.

Sometimes she minds her own business in that holosuite program Odo found for her, playing and shifting and doing whatever she feels like in an environment that can't possibly hurt her. Quark keeps the suite locked, with only him, Odo, or Ops able to get in. He also has surveillance and a monitor set up behind the bar so he can keep an eye on her, because, well.

Other times, she turns into a long stretch of soft, luxuriant fur or a feather boa and lets one of the dabo girls wear her as a part of their costume. It's always cute to see. Sometimes there are eye stalks, because... well.

And yet more times, she sits on the bar and soaks up the attention of the patrons as Quark hovers nearby, serving drinks and keeping close watch. Clover is currently in her approximation of a small dog, shivering and purring and being amiably petted by Morn.

Odo is working late this evening; he and half of Ops are on a runabout--a runabout, they didn't even take the Defiant--doing who knows what in the Gamma Quadrant. He's been gone since yesterday afternoon. His first away mission since Clover's birth.

He'll probably be home before morning, but it's not a guarantee.

It never is.

Quark comforts himself with the knowledge that it's not easy to kill a changeling, and that Odo is very capable of taking care of himself.

"He's chief of security! But here I am worrying like some kind of military husband." Quark grumbles and sets another Warp Core Breach in front of Morn, leaning against the bartop. Clover purrs and flops a limb out onto Quark's arm. "It's disgusting."

Morn raises a brow at him.

"Don't look at me in that tone of voice." Quark narrows his eyes. "You know what I meant."

Morn raises his other brow.

"Are you seriously hung up because I said husband?"

Morn nods and taps his wrist.

"Go stick your head in an impulse nacelle. I'll ask him on my own damn schedule and not a moment sooner. You're worse than Jadzia," he adds, under his breath.

Morn rolls his eyes and scritches behind one of Clover's multitudinous ears. One of her legs shakes awkwardly--clearly a behavior she's seen a real dog do when scratched, but she isn't emulating it perfectly. Her bones still don't seem to connect exactly right, so the limb flops at unnatural angles.

"Who's a perfect little puppy?" One of Clover's tongues lolls out of one of their mouths in response. Quark scratches her neck and can't help but smile at her. "Not you, that's for sure. But you're still cute."

Clover gets more clingy as the night goes on. Eventually, by the time the bar has closed, she's turned her natural translucent amber and flattened herself to Quark's chest to cling tightly there while he works. She can't link yet, but it doesn't take telepathy for Quark to feel that she's weirded out.

It's the longest they've been without Odo since he was carrying them in his body.

"Shh, hey, it's okay. Your daddy's coming back," Quark tries to soothe them, pitching his voice low. "C'mon. Let's go to bed, huh? He'll be back before you know it."

He finishes closing up and exits the bar, locking up behind himself. The walk to his and Odo's shared quarters seems long without him there.

He sets Clover on the bed and she curls there, looking forlorn; he changes quickly into his pajamas before climbing into the bed and scooping her close. "Oh, Lucky Clover. I don't like it when he leaves either."

Clover shifts, taking on a mix of characteristics. They become soft and warm, covered in silky fur. A little padded out. Big misshapen paws, a big misshapen muzzle, and big sweet eyes. The color they've taken on is a creamy beige, and Quark realizes that they're imitating Odo's lion. He pulls her closer and hugs her, and she nestles under his chin and purrs. Automatically his own purr starts in response, so much deeper and more rumbly than her clumsy, trilling staccato. She's a cuddly little teddy bear, and her eyes are closed like she's sleeping. She isn't moving away, and with her cuddled in Quark's arms, he'll know if she moves. He figures he can somewhat safely sleep--it doesn't seem like Clover is going to want to go anywhere.

He wakes when someone gets in the bed. "Odo?" he asks, blearily.

"I'm here," Odo murmurs, "go back to sleep."

"Didn't hear you come in." Quark slides over, blinks in the dim light. Clover is in Odo's arms, rubbing her furry head against his chin.

"I slid under the door. I didn't want to wake you."

"'M glad I woke up." He tugs Odo down to lie next to him, Clover curling between them. She's purring, and so is Quark. "Clover missed you."

"I missed Clover." Odo softly kisses each of Quark's brow ridges. "And you."

"I didn't miss you at all," Quark lies, angling his head up for more kisses. "Clover and I did all kinds of crime while you were gone."

"Mm." A kiss to Quark's lips. "Go back to sleep, you lying little reprobate."

Odo likes taking Quark on dates. The holosuites can be a lovely destination, when they're not being used for mere cheap titillation. Quark has shown him many beautiful locations with his holosuites, and this is no exception.

They're lounging in a shallow section of a forest stream, the water clear and cool and flowing leisurely past them. The air is warm and thick with humidity; insects and frogs and birds sing in the trees and foliage surrounding them. Branches and leaves knit together loosely overhead, letting dappled light through. Even as the sun shines, a light misting rain sparkles in the air.

Even though it's just a holoprogram Quark crafted, it feels convincingly real to Odo. He feeds Quark another ripe berry from a nearby plant, relishes the sweet taste on Quark's tongue through their link.

"This was a good idea," Quark says, licking pink juice from his lips. "Nice job."

"This outing was your idea, Quark."

"I know. Nice job nabbing me as your boyfriend, I mean. I'm a genius."

"You're something. Be quiet and eat another berry."

"What's that supposed to mean? I'll have you know--mm!" He's silenced by Odo pushing another fruit into his mouth, which he accepts with no protest. The flavor splashes bright and crisp across their shared senses.

"I think you keep showing me these Ferengan vistas in the hopes that I'll go to Ferenginar with you someday," Odo says thoughtfully as Quark chews the fruit.

Quark swallows. "The real thing is even better, Odo. No contest."

"Mm."

"Besides," Quark says, tugging Odo toward him, "my mother would love to meet you."

Warmth suffuses Odo's being. "It would be interesting to see where you got some of your personality traits."

"Hah! Not from Mother. She's nothing like me."

"Mm." Odo leans down as Quark pulls him further. "I like her already."

"Don't be such a jerk to the father of your child." Quark's voice is light and teasing against Odo's lips before he kisses him. For someone with a mouth full of teeth like needles, Quark's kisses are soft and gentle. Not that Odo minds when he gets a little rougher; it isn't as if those teeth can hurt him in any way. When he was a solid, they had to be a little more careful; Quark's gentleness now is probably a holdover from those times.

Quark is temptingly unclothed, in nothing more than a bathing suit that seems like it should be too racy for a Ferengi male to be comfortable in. Not that Odo is complaining. Odo himself isn't wearing much either, not that he ever does. He gave himself fins earlier in their outing, to better swim in the deeper sections of the river, and he hasn't bothered to change his legs and hands back yet. They remain webbed and finned and he drapes himself over Quark, kisses him needy and wanting.

"Jake Sisko to security!"

Odo's combadge shrieks from where he's stashed it safely within his body. He pulls it forth and taps it. "Odo here."

"Jake? He and Nog have Clover," Quark breathes, eyes widening. "Computer, end program." The surroundings melt away, hologrammatic water dissipating and rendering them totally dry. Before the program even ends, Quark is shimmying into his clothes at warp speed.

"Odo, come quick, Nog--! Something happened! I was only gone ten minutes!"

Seamlessly, Odo slips into emergency mode; an eerie calm and efficiency settling over his mind. "On my way." Odo shifts into fully humanoid shape and Quark is opening the holosuite doors. "Computer, locate Cadet Nog."

"Cadet Nog is in his quarters," the computer replies.

Quark is already bolting for the turbolift and Odo strides to stay with him. "Where's Clover?" he asks the second the two of them are in the lift and headed for the habitat ring.

"I--I don't know! I don't see them!"

"They're a changeling, of course you don't see them," Quark hisses, eyes wild.

Odo sends orders to postpone all departures from the station, just in case; apprehension grips him as hard as concern for Nog. Quark is hauling full-tilt to Nog and Jake's quarters the moment the turbolift doors open and Odo is hot on his heels.

Nog is sprawled on the ground, unconscious; Quark drops to his knees beside Bashir, who is busily doing... medical things. Quark paws helplessly at his nephew like he wants to pull him into his arms, knows better, but his hands struggle anyway. "Nog! It's--is he going to be okay?!"

"He's going to be fine," Bashir says, "he got a nasty bash to the skull, but Ferengi skulls are built strong." He doses Nog with a hypospray and within seconds Nog is gasping and clinging to Quark's sleeve.

Now that he's sitting up, or trying to--Bashir is gently pushing him back down--Odo can see the bleeding blunt-force trauma at the back of his head.

"He took Clover!" Nog cries. "Uncle. I'm sorry, I couldn't--"

"Who took Clover?!" Quark asks as Bashir hits the abrasion with a dermal regenerator.

"He looked like a big cat! Kinda--dirty blonde!"

The terror in Quark's voice is as clear to Odo as starlight. "Computer, where is Schrall of-Srallansre's ship?"

"Schrall of-Srallansre's ship departed seven minutes ago."

Quark says a Ferengan swear that doesn't translate.

Odo is a professional, and he does not allow fear to cloud his judgement or otherwise get in the way of handling a situation. He addresses matters, and then later, in the safety of his own bucket or bed or office, he will process the emotions he felt and move on. In the moment, what is required is order, swiftness, and a clear mind.

He has faced innumerable horrors and maintained his composure through them. He has faced his own certain death with that same calm, mathematical efficiency.

And now his child has been taken from him, and he is fighting back a scream.

"Bashir to Ops. Clover has been kidnapped. Ready the Defiant."

"Acknowledged."

"Let's go." Quark springs to his feet and Odo, terrified, stops him.

"No," Odo says, pushing back on Quark's chest, "you stay!"

"Stay?! Are you kidding? My kid's out there, I'm coming along!"

"This could be dangerous, Quark, I'm not going to lose you too!"

"We don't have time for this!" Quark snarls, reaches out and grasps Odo's forearm, and--

Quark initiates a link, barges into Odo's head with no grace and no subtlety; he's not a good telepath but he and Odo have linked so many times his mind must be used to it, must be used to trawling Odo's pathways.

Instantaneously a conversation occurs that would have taken precious seconds to communicate verbally. Quark's fear and love are at the forefront. He isn't able to project words across their link, his abilities aren't that fine tuned, but Odo gets the idea.

Fear, anger, fear of losing Odo, fear of not rescuing Clover. Fear of being left alone, forever.

Flashes of memory. Working with Schrall of-Srallansre so many years ago; Quark knows him, and that knowledge might become useful.

They make the decision as one unit: Quark will come along.

Dax, Kira, Sisko, O'Brien, Worf, Bashir, and Odo operate the Defiant like the well-oiled machine it is. Quark feels hopelessly out of his depth on this little warship, and he does his best to stay out of the way.

"We've got his ion trail," Dax calls, and Sisko nods. "He's moving at approximately warp five, heading 528 mark 49."

"Helm, engage pursuit. Let's get our baby back."

"Yes, sir!"

There isn't a damn thing Quark can do but wait. Terror claws at his belly, roils there and forces him to suffer.

"What does this Eeiaouan want with Clover?" Worf rumbles. "I can think of few things less honorable than stealing a child."

"He doesn't want Clover, he wants to sell them." Quark wraps his arms around himself. "He's doing this for the latinum, and--" He closes his eyes. "And to get back at me."

"This is revenge?" Odo's eyes swivel up to look at Quark.

"We were on a freighter together. We--had a side deal going, and we were caught. I talked my way out. He couldn't." Quark looks away. "He served eight years. Thinks I owe him. I disagreed."

Funny. He didn't take Schrall's deal in an attempt to protect Clover, and now, not taking the deal has endangered her.

It's a long twelve hours of dogged pursuit. Quark doesn't sleep. Neither does Odo. None of the crew does.

"Schrall's ship is within sensor range."

"Hail him," Sisko orders.

"He's not responding."

Sisko narrows his eyes. "Plot an intercept course."

"Yes, sir." A pause. "He's hailing us."

"Onscreen."

Quark's eyes swivel to the viewscreen, his heart in his throat. Schrall is there, yes, and--Quark sighs, shakily, relieved--Clover is draped over his shoulder, a friendly pink color.

She has no idea what's happening.

Someone else is standing next to Schrall. Pale, lavender-tinted skin. Purple eyes. Weird ears.

"Captain," the man says, genially, "what a pleasant surprise!"

"Kidnapping is low even for the Vorta," Sisko rumbles. "Though I suppose nothing is impossible, Weyoun, if the dead can come back to life. Return the child immediately."

Schrall laughs. "Or what, you'll open fire?"

"Schrall," the Vorta says, warningly. "Captain, I did die, but the Vorta are masters of cloning--and this is quite the opposite of kidnapping. I'm bringing the child home."

"How much is he paying you, Schrall?" Quark steps closer to the screen. "I hope it's worth it."

"It is," Schrall says, leering.

"You aren't taking Clover to the Founders," Odo says, lowly.

"But I am." The Vorta--Weyoun?--smiles. "It's better this way. Don't try to put us in a tractor beam, Captain. Are you willing to bet the child's life that I won't simply let this ship tear itself apart?"

Tears sting Quark's eyes. "Schrall!" he yelps. "I'll give you anything you want!" He brings his wrists together, brings his body language low. "I'm begging you!"

"You can't outbid the Dominion," Schrall sneers. Clover isn't pink anymore. Her colors have slowly dulled; she reaches out with a tiny appendage toward the console. She must hear us, Quark thinks, hollowly.

"Schrall," Weyoun warns, sharply, "you're upsetting the baby."

"I don't give a damn whether I'm upsetting the baby! Quark, I'll never get those eight years back, and you'll never get your kid back! A fair trade, I think!"

Quark is about to speak, to beg, but several things happen all at once.

The Vorta snaps at Schrall. Clover's colors go gray and dark. She reaches further for the console.

And then Schrall smacks her away from it.

"Don't touch them!" Odo roars, voice modulating into something monstrous, and then in an instant the comm link is lost and something rocks the ship. For a moment Quark thinks they're under fire; he clings to a chair and hyperventilates.

"Schrall's ship is gone," Dax says over the alerts and computers going haywire.

"Gone?!" Odo cries.

"It's--it disappeared. I'm--there's something in its place!"

"Report," Sisko calls.

"A planetoid-sized object is directly where Schrall's ship was, sir!"

"A planetoid? Onscreen!"

The screen flicks to life, and Quark feels like he's going to faint.

A planetoid, indeed. Floating among tiny pieces of rubble and debris. Its surface is shiny, smooth, like latinum.

And then it changes color. Pink spreads over it, and it begins to glitter in the starlight.

"Clover," Quark breathes.

The bridge is stunned and silent for a long second as slowly the planetoid begins to shrink down to a more reasonable size.

"It appears that Clover took care of the situation," Odo says weakly.

"It appears so, Constable," Sisko replies very evenly. The kind of evenness that comes with true shock.

Dax clears her throat. "I'm placing Clover in a tractor beam and pulling them in."

"Good. Transport them directly to the bridge as soon as they'll fit," Sisko replies.

Odo looks over at Sisko, eyes wide. "Thank you, Captain," he says softly. "I understand the risk you're taking."

"Not at all. I find it unlikely that Clover would blow the Defiant or DS9 to smithereens, Constable." He nods toward the viewscreen. Clover is slowly shrinking, morphing countless dog ears all over her spherical form. "If she wanted to, she would have already done so. But perhaps next time you'll think twice before disciplining her, hm?"

Quark sways back and forth, stunned. Odo crosses the bridge to stand next to him. "I didn't know it was possible for changelings to get that big," Quark says, leaning hard against Odo and not taking his eyes off the viewscreen.

There's a long pause before Odo speaks. "We can't."

"What do you mean, you can't? Obviously you can. She just did. Have you ever tried?"

Odo looks down at Quark, owlishly. "No," he says. "Would you like me to try? Right here on the Defiant?"

"No, no, thank you."

"We have a transporter lock on Clover, and they're about the size of a beach ball, sir," O'Brien says.

Sisko nods. "Energize."

Clover materializes in front of the viewscreen; Odo is the first to scoop her up, but Quark is actively crying--gross, he thinks--and petting her with shaky hands, reassuring himself that she's here. She's taken on her approximation of Odo's lion, rounded and pudgy. Her big, soft eyes flick from Quark's to Odo's; she keeps eye contact and purrs like she's trying to calm them.

"I'm so glad you're all right," Odo says, sounding choked, like his vocal cords are turning to goo. "I--Clover, we love you so."

Quark buries his face in Clover's fur, wraps his arms around Odo and Clover both.

He doesn't think he can form words, so he doesn't try. He just holds his family tight.

Clover remains in their odd little version of Odo's lion all the way back to Deep Space Nine.

It's nearly 2500 hours when they're finally disembarking the Defiant, Clover in Quark's arms. "Captain," Odo says, hanging back, "would you like me to file a report about..." He pauses. "About what Clover did?"

"No, Constable. File your report on the security matter--the kidnapping. Dax and I will handle the rest." Sisko pats Odo on the shoulder. "But do it in the morning. Go be with your family, Odo."

"Yes, Captain, thank you," Odo murmurs before he strides up to fall in step next to Quark. The little Ferengi looks exhausted and rumpled. His eye makeup is smeared and smudged still from the water in their holosuite date, his clothes are wrinkled and disheveled in a way he never would usually tolerate. Odo rests his hand on Quark's wrist, forms a little link as if to offer some of his strength. Quark sighs, accepts it, mentally leans on Odo.

"And today started so good," Quark mumbles.

"It's ending good, too."

"The middle part was sketchy." Quark yawns. Odo watches as Clover imitates him, opening their lionine mouth wide.

"Very sketchy," Odo agrees. They step into the turbolift and Odo taps the panel to bring them to the habitat ring.

"I guess Schrall told the Dominion about Clover." Quark strokes behind their fluffy ears. "I, uh. I don't think we've heard the last of them."

"I suspect not." The doors open and Odo gently herds Quark out of the turbolift and toward their quarters. "However, I anticipate that we won’t have to deal with another kidnapping attempt after what happened today."

Quark snorts, rolls his eyes. “Yeah, probably not. She knows how to make a splash, doesn't she?"

Quark disappears into the bathroom as soon as they arrive in their quarters. Odo can hear the shower running. He straightens the bedclothes and settles down with Clover, pulls up his latest romance novel on his PADD and waits for Quark to be done.

Normally Quark takes long, luxurious showers, but apparently not tonight. Tonight he is done quickly, padding back into the bedroom in his pajamas; his makeup is gone and his limbs look loose. When he climbs into bed with Odo, Odo can feel his skin is damp and warm from the water.

"Thought of something while I was in the shower," Quark says, reaching out to pet Clover, who is lying lionine on Odo's chest.

"Hmm?" Odo presses his mouth to Quark's temple, absently, not quite a kiss.

"Yeah," Quark says. "How long has it been since you last regenerated?"

Odo blinks. "I... regenerated when you slept last."

"That was around twenty-six hours ago."

"I..."

"Something to think about," Quark mumbles against Odo's neck, slinging an arm over is waist.

Odo lays a hand flat on Quark's back, under his pajama top, forms a little link. I love you, he projects.

"I love you too," Quark whispers back, out loud.

He maintains the link, feels as sleep overtakes Quark. Clover is solid and warm on his chest, purring quietly and unmoving. It all feels wonderful.

Normally, this is when he would dissolve into his core form. But is that because he needs to, now, or because it's just part of his routine?

Clover doesn't have to regenerate. Clover is the one who gave him his previous abilities back.

Perhaps they gave him more than that?

Twenty-six hours without regenerating. He'd been so busy, so worried about Clover, that the thought hadn't crossed his mind. He should have been feeling symptoms of decay hours ago. Instead he feels... fine. Emotionally tired, yes, but not physically. Not whatsoever.

Quark snuffles into Odo's neck. Odo sighs and pets his back lightly.

Things aren't adding up.

Or, Odo thinks, perhaps they are, but the answer is one that wasn't anticipated.

"Julian," Dax greets, leaning in the doorway. "The Captain has some concerns."

"Yes?" Julian looks up from his PADD, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Jadzia says. "He's concerned because Starfleet knows about Clover now. You know, because of the report about... what happened."

Julian hums. "Yes, that is potentially concerning."

"If they were able to prove that Clover is in fact the same entity as the baby changeling from before," she says slowly, "Odo wouldn't have a legal claim to them." Jadzia pauses. "You see, the Captain is concerned that perhaps the records were lost."

"Ah," Julian says, reaching over to tap quickly on his desktop touch display. "Then it's a...shame..." he trails off, accessing and deleting several files, "that he's correct. You see, I purged the baby changeling's records shortly after it died." He smiles up at Jadzia. "Why, I didn't think I'd need them anymore."

"Oh, no," Jadzia says, laying a hand over her chest. "So you're telling me that there's no way to prove that Odo isn't Clover's biological father."

"Indeed. We simply don't know enough about changeling physiology to make any kind of claim about Clover's genealogy."

"That's amazing." Jadzia leans over his shoulder and looks down at his display, quick fingers clicking rapidly and entering her command codes. "You can't even tell when the files were purged. How..." She clicks the 'confirm' key, "...unusual!"

"Mm!" Julian nods. "Quite."

Jadzia smirks and pats him on the back. "Well, that is a shame. I'll be sure to let Benjamin know."

Clover's strange little dog is much more--connected to itself, now. There's more ears than are strictly necessary, and she still adds crests of colorful feathers in odd places, but she moves like a dog, walks and scampers and plays. All her bones and muscles seem to work together instead of fighting against each other like before.

It's late evening; Quark and Clover are in the bar, Clover sitting on the bar in front of Morn, who is absently petting her as he looks at his PADD. Quark keeps the drinks flowing for his customers, keeps one eye on the door, waiting for him to come in.

"Do you mind if I take her?" Leeta dances over to the bar, leans over Morn's shoulder. Morn nods up at her. "I'm getting cold!"

"You're a Dabo girl, you're supposed to be cold, it means you're wearing the right costume," Quark grumbles.

Leeta rolls her eyes at him and picks Clover up; the little changeling shifts in her hands, becomes a furred, glittering shawl that Leeta drapes over her bare shoulders. "You don't pay me to freeze to death," she says. Two little eye stalks pop up from Clover to peer out at their surroundings.

"Only half to death," Quark agrees, but smiles wryly as Leeta dances off, fleet of foot, Clover purring and shifting colors to match Leeta's costume.

Of all the people Rom could be dating, Leeta isn't the worst choice. Not by a long shot. She's clever and canny and she has a hell of a spine. When he eventually marries her, Quark won't throw too much of a fit about it.

Quark's eyes flick to the nearest chronometer. Odo should be here soon. Horrifying, really, that even after all this time, Quark still counts down the minutes til Odo comes through the door.

Someone orders a Black Hole and Quark turns to mix the drink, throwing it together easily; when he turns back around to give it to his customer, Odo is there, leaning against the bar, smiling softly, waiting for him.

Quark slides the drink across the bar and moves over to Odo, reaching out to brush their fingers together. Their link comes alight as it always does, surface-level but a warm comfort. "The baby is over with Leeta," Quark says, nodding over toward the dabo tables.

"Looks like they're having a good time together," Odo hums, thumb stroking the back of Quark's hand. "When are you finished here tonight?"

"I'm not staying til close. Give me fifteen minutes and I--"

Odo's combadge bleeps softly. "Kira to Odo."

"Yes, Major?"

Kira's voice sounds very put-upon. "You and Quark had better get down to Ops."

Quark blinks. "Is everything all right?"

"Yes. Actually, take your time, I'd love to make this little gremlin wait as long as possible. Kira out."

"Gremlin?" Odo asks, bemused. "Hm."

"She's called me that before," Quark sighs. "One second."

Quark skirts around tables and stools toward Leeta and Clover. "I need my Lucky Clover back," he says, holding out his hands.

Leeta sighs and gathers Clover up, places them in Quark's hands. "Thanks for keeping me warm, sweetheart," she coos as Clover takes their dog shape again and bunts their head against Leeta's hand as if to say goodbye.

As Quark returns to Odo's side, Clover melts down into shiny golden liquid form and wraps around Quark's wrist. "Ops?" Quark asks.

"And then bed," Odo replies.

"It's a bit early for bed, isn't it?"

"Clover has some new toys in their playpen upstairs," Odo says airily as a playful wanting works its way over their link. "They'll be plenty occupied up there for... a while."

Quark grins. "I see," he says as Odo herds him toward the nearest turbolift. "Ops," he says to the computer when they step inside. "I do wonder who the hell wants to see us in Ops."

"It could be anyone." Odo shrugs. "It might very well be someone from Starfleet who objects to Clover's presence on the station, given what we now know about their abilities."

"Would Kira call someone from Starfleet a gremlin?"

"If they were unpleasant enough, I'm sure she would."

The turbolift doors open onto Ops. "Sorry to interrupt your evening," Kira says, "but we've got a little bit of a situation."

Dax grimaces. "There's a small Dominion shuttlecraft nearby requesting to dock. We gave it permission, but its inhabitant wants to speak with you before he's willing to dock the ship."

"Is it someone we know?" Quark asks, blinking a few times.

"That's the thing. It's Weyoun, the Vorta that was on the ship with Schrall--or a clone of him, anyway."

Anger flares hard and cold in Quark's brain. "Oh, I have some words for him," he hisses. "How long's he been on hold?"

Kira smiles the kind of smile that strikes fear into Quark's heart. "A few hours," she says, blandly.

Quark grins. "Put him on screen."

Kira looks to Odo, who nods.

Weyoun's face comes up onscreen. "You've got a lot of nerve coming here after what you did--or maybe you're just stupid," Quark spits. The Vorta's giant lilac eyes are wide and solemn, and Quark continues on. "You tried to kidnap a baby! A baby! And now you wanna come say hi? The Founders clearly didn't make you smart enough, because--"

"Quark," Odo says softly. "He already died for it."

"Obviously it didn't take!"

Clover remains calm and placid at Quark's wrist, playing idly with his cufflinks as she usually does. She hasn't seemed to take notice of Weyoun.

"Your anger is completely justified," Weyoun says, holding his wrists together in the Ferengi gesture of supplication; he's done his research, and Quark hates it. "I apologize for my predecessor's actions. They were traumatic and unnecessary and forced Clover to act in self-defense. I--" He pauses, clarifies. "My predecessor should never have attempted to abduct Clover." He bows his head. "I cannot ever apologize enough."

"You're right," Quark snaps. "You can't."

"I can only hope the trinkets for Clover I have brought, as well as the gold-pressed latinum, can begin to heal the wound my predecessor dealt--or at least help compensate for the wrongdoing."

Quark's eyes go wide. "Latinum?"

Weyoun bows his head again, his palms spread wide.

Odo, who has been mostly silent, speaks. "So you wish to board the station. And if I arrest you for kidnapping?"

"Then I shall be arrested, Founder," Weyoun says, submissively avoiding Odo's eyes. "I am the only one aboard this shuttlecraft. There are no Jem'hadar with me. Should you choose to punish me for my predecessor's transgressions, the Dominion will honor your laws and your choice."

"He's telling the truth," Jadzia says, "at least about how he's the only one aboard his craft. His shields are down. He isn't even armed."

"Why should I be armed?" Weyoun's eyes somehow widen even further, the very picture of pained sincerity. Quark bites back another hiss. "I'm on a mission of reparations for a terrible misdeed. I wish to ask your permission, and Clover's, to come aboard and apologize in person."

Clover has taken her small approximation of Odo's lion and is peering up at the viewscreen, head tilted and big soft eyes calm. "She seems fine," Quark grumbles, holding her closer. "But I'm not."

"I await your decision," Weyoun says with another extremely polite dip of his head, and the viewscreen goes dark as the comm signal drops.

Kira crosses her arms. "So?"

"Tell him to go to hell," Quark says.

"No," Odo says slowly. "Quark. I want to know why he's really here. We'll never find out if we send him away. We'll have a security detail on him." Odo raises a brow ridge. "And we know that Clover won't allow someone to take them. Least of all Weyoun."

Quark hesitates. "Okay," he says. "He'd better have a lot of latinum."

Dax opens up the comm line again. Weyoun appears on the screen. "We've decided to grant you permission to board the station," Odo says. "A security team will meet you in the docking bay."

"I understand," Weyoun says, bowing his head yet again. Quark is already sick of the gesture. "Thank you, Founder."

"My name is Odo," Odo says, very firmly.

"Yes, of course," Weyoun replies quickly. "Thank you, Odo."

The comm line goes dark again. Quark looks over to the turbolift. "I guess we have an apology to hear."

"Not yet," Kira says, "let's make him wait a little longer. I wanna see him really sweat."

"Benjamin is going to love waking up to this in the morning," Jadzia sighs. "Dealing with a representative of the Dominion, sweaty or not, isn't his idea of a great start to the day."

"It isn't a great end, either." Quark crosses his arms. Clover, seeming to sense his distress, gently kneads his forearm and purrs quietly. It seems like they're trying to soothe him. It only kind of works.

Odo has his deputies put Weyoun in secure quarters with two guards posted outside at all times.

"He can wait to see us until morning," Odo says when Quark looks up at him questioningly. "As the Major suggested: let's make him sweat, shall we?"

Clover doesn't spend any time in her playpen that night. She curls between Quark and Odo, in tiny lionine form, lying on her back with her big misshapen paws kneading at the air as she purrs.

"You're more forgiving than I am, Lucky Clover," Quark murmurs, petting her soft, squishy tummy. "I would have thrown a fit at the sight of that smug purple bastard if I were you."

"You did throw a fit at the sight of that smug purple bastard," Odo replies, reaching out to very briefly stroke the shell of Quark's ear before settling at his cheek. "And don't say 'bastard' in front of the baby."

"You just said 'bastard' twice!"

"And now so have you."

"C'mon, it's not the worst word she could know." Quark pauses. "I don't know how you're so forgiving of that Vorta, either."

"I'm not." Odo's thumb strokes over Quark's sharp cheekbone, then the creases at the corner of his eye. "I don't forgive him for a moment."

"He's probably here to case the joint, you know," Quark mumbles, tilting his face against Odo's hand. "Scope out the station so he can better steal Clover later."

"If he had appeared before the incident with Schrall of-Srallansre, I would have agreed with you. I doubt he has any intention of taking Clover by force. They wouldn't allow it."

Clover purrs a little louder, reaches out and puts her paw pad on Odo's hand.

"You think they understand what we're saying?" Quark asks, scratching under her foreleg.

"I think they probably do, to some extent. They're smart, and infants do tend to understand more than they let on." Odo pauses. "Or so I've read."

"That's our smart little baby," Quark coos, his own purr rolling in his throat to match Clover's. "I hope you give that vole-faced jerk a really hard time tomorrow, Lucky Clover."

"Not too hard a time," Odo says, a little smile curling his lips. "We don't want to lose the "entire docking ring."

Weyoun bows and scrapes and demurs and submits and the whole display is making Quark uncomfortable.

"I don't see the need to press charges for the kidnapping," Odo says slowly. Quark knows he's going to say it before he does; they talked it over earlier. "You aren't the same person as your predecessor and can't be held accountable for his crimes."

"On the contrary, I carry all of Weyoun Five's memories," Weyoun replies. "For all intents and purposes, I am the same person."

"I'm afraid I don't see it that way. A Trill host is not the same person as their symbiont's last host."

"You are merciful and kind, Foun--Odo," Weyoun says, palms out in that weird gesture of submission.

"He is," Quark snaps. "I'd have thrown you in the brig and tossed out the release codes.

"I understand," Weyoun says, "as... partner to Odo, and father to the little one, I would not expect you to forgive me. Now, Odo, the Founders miss you dearly! They would like to express their sincerest..."

Clover squirms in Quark's arms. "You want down?" he murmurs as Weyoun chatters on. "Okay. Be good." He sets them down on the floor and they shake their fur out.

Weyoun's big lavender eyes swivel down to her; he trails off. "Pardon me," he says to Odo, and kneels down to get closer to Clover's height.

It's funny to watch this Vorta dipping his head and spreading out his hands as a gesture of servitude to a little dog with its tongue lolling out. "Founder," Weyoun says gently. She stares blankly up at him.

"Address them by their name," Odo says.

Weyoun hesitates. "...Clover," he says, finally.

Clover lolls another tongue out of their mouth and rams their head against his knee.

"They want you to pet them," Quark sighs, "for some reason."

"I couldn't possibly," Weyoun says, aghast. "Clover, I have brought you a gift." He pulls from his bag a colorful little sphere. With a flick of his wrist the sphere expands, revealing the spiderlike internal structure. It's nothing more than finely printed pieces of plastic working together, but Clover is entranced. Clover instantly turns liquid, reaching out with excited, trembling little appendages. Weyoun gives her the sphere and she proceeds to examine it closely, feeling it all over, manipulating it. "I hope they enjoy the toy," Weyoun says, "I hope it will be enriching."

Clover shifts and now there are two of those little plastic spheres. Clover expands and contracts herself and then vibrates. Bubbles, popping and fizzing, play across her surface as she melts back into a pleased little puddle.

"They like it," Quark says. "Now, you've given your gifts. You can leave."

"Unless you have some diplomatic mission, of course," Odo adds.

"No, no diplomatic mission. Only..." Weyoun dips his head again. Remains where he is, knelt on the ground. Clover climbs up Odo's leg and into his arms, draping over his shoulders.

"Only what?" Quark's eyes narrow firmly.

"The Founders wish to make a proposal," Weyoun says slowly. "They have offered to... educate Clover. If you would allow it, they--"

"Of course," Quark says, lips pulling back in a hiss. "You're still trying to get your filthy hands on her."

"You won't be taking our child," Odo says, voice a low growl.

"No, no. Of course not. Taking her by force was a grievous mistake. Had my predecessor not been dispatched by Clover herself, the Founders would have--"

"We get it, you're very sorry, stop frinxing apologizing and groveling!"

"Of course, Quark, immediately," Weyoun says, dipping his head in that absolutely infuriating way yet again.

Odo brushes the back of his hand with Quark's. Their link comes alight. I have a theory. Keep arguing with him, Odo's thoughts read loud and clear in Quark's mind. I want to see how far he'll go.

You got it, Quark thinks back, then, aloud, "What gives you the right to come here to our home and try to steal our kid, again?"

"Not steal," Weyoun protests, "you misunderstand! Let me--"

"You'll get Clover when Breen has a warm winter," Quark snaps.

"I beg you to at least consider the Founders' proposal." Weyoun's eyes are still downcast but they are wide and hunted. He looks...frightened. "At least allow me to relay it. The Founders--"

"Or what?" Quark presses on. "Will your kind and loving gods punish you if we don't hear you out?"

Weyoun's silence is telling.

Quark tilts his head. "Aw. They'll hurt you. Of course, they didn't care whether you lived or died anyway." He leans in. "They didn't send a single Jem'hadar with you. Clearly, you're disposable."

Weyoun's eyes finally snap up to meet Quark's. His facade is finally slipping; Quark can see anger burning hot in Weyoun's delicate skull, can see it in the set of his jaw and the white circling his irises. Quark feels triumphant. "Is that supposed to frighten me?" Weyoun asks, voice perfectly even. "My disposability means that the Dominion is strong enough to not require any one individual. No Vorta or Jem'hadar is indispensable, and that is how it should be." He pauses. "I have no desire to experience punishment. But if it is the Founders' will--"

Quark waves a hand. "Founders' will, you'll submit, you have no sense of self and an inferiority complex the size of the Denorios belt. Blah, blah. We get it."

Good, Quark.

"Okay, Weyoun. I don't really want your torture on my conscience." Quark shrugs. "Lay it on us."

There. Did you see his shoulders? Down a few centimeters. He's relieved, Odo thinks.

Yeah, I saw.

"Clover is a child," Weyoun says. "A changeling child. The Founders--the Great Link--knows how to raise one of its own." Weyoun's eyes slide to Odo. "Odo... does Clover not deserve to be with their people?"

Odo hums. Weyoun continues.

"Nobody can take care of them better, nobody can teach them more. The Great Link is where they are meant to be."

Quark bristles and Odo sends more thoughts across their link. Shh. Let him keep digging.

"You have given them love, but you cannot help them reach their full potential," Weyoun says. "If you love Clover--truly love them--the best way to show it is to do what is best for them. Allow her to go and be with those who understand her."

"I understand," Odo says, and Quark looks up at him. His lips are curled into a sort of smile.

Odo, Quark thinks. He knows Odo won't get his exact words, but he'll get the feeling. What are you doing?

It's all right, Odo replies. Just watch.

"I'm so glad you do," Weyoun says with a large sigh. "Now--"

"No. You won't be taking her. You can't; she would destroy your ship. But I understand."

"You understand...?"

"Why do the Founders want Clover so badly, Weyoun?" Odo crosses his arms. "She's just another changeling, after all."

"Every changeling is divine," Weyoun says like he's reciting from a textbook, "each changeling carries--"

"I understand you see us that way," Odo interrupts, "but the Founders don't. Why are they trying so very hard to get hold of Clover in particular?"

Quark can feel the thrill running through Odo; the kind of rush he gets when he solves a mystery, catches a killer, untangles the knot and lays the story bare.

Odo goes on. "They didn't try so hard to capture me. They threw away a hundred children just like Clover, cast them out into the ether to live or die, and haven't tried so hard to reclaim any of them."

"I--I haven't an answer," Weyoun stammers.

"Think, Weyoun. They made you smart, so think. Why aren't they trying to reclaim the other hundred?"

Weyoun's eyes cast around like an animal cornered. "They trust that the one hundred changelings will feel the call of the Link and return."

"Then the reason they are taking such an active interest in Clover is because they know that Clover won't feel that call, don't they? Clover doesn't have to regenerate. Clover can assume the form of massive things, enormous things, things that no changeling could dream to become."

"No changeling?" Quark asks, blinking.

"Quark, don't you see?" Odo's clear blue eyes glitter in the shadows of his face. "That's why they want her. She changed me. They want her to change them too."

"I'm lost, Odo."

Odo is triumphant. He raises to his full humanoid height. Clover is a tiny lionine thing sprawled over his shoulders, reaching down to idly paw his combadge.

"I don't know what they are," Odo says, slowly, and with his next words Quark's world forever shifts as sure as Clover shifts into a ball or cube or little lion; "but Clover isn't a changeling. And neither am I anymore."

Notes:

:3c watch out for babyfic 3: the third one!, coming soon to an ao3 near you!

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