Federation Standard Time: December 30th

Benjamin Sisko’s Office: 1200 hours

“Benjamin, I need a favour.”

Ben Sisko closed his eyes in anticipatory frustration. “Old Man, if this is the same kind of favour that you needed last year–”

“What? Oh, the lizard. No, this isn’t anything like that, this is about Nerys.”

Last year's favour had been a long, drawn out month of secrecy. There had been animal import permits, a disastrous secret santa, and the weirdest Christmas that Ben had ever experienced. Also one of the nicest, he had to admit. This year's Christmas had been quiet, and he had–with misplaced hope–thought that they had made it through the season unscathed. They were on the brink of the new year, and he had been so sure that there would be no holiday hijinks this year. 

But of course Dax would still have something in the works. 

“Go ahead,” Ben said. “What about the major?”

Jadzia was quiet for a moment. Ben noticed in the silence that she was uncomfortable. She was shifting from foot to foot and fiddling with her hands, her brow furrowed. That was not the “Jadzia Dax is plotting” face, it was the “Jadzia Dax is worried about something” face.

“Jadzia,” he said, hoping to gently coax the issue from her. “What is it?”

“I’m not asking for your help as Ben Sisko,” she said. “I mean, I am. But I need the advice of the emissary as well. We’ve been here for years, and I still can’t seem to figure Bajoran traditions out and I so badly want to get this right.”

“Bajoran traditions?” Ben asked. He couldn’t begin to imagine what this could be about. 

“For all I know, this could be way too soon. Or maybe it’s too late! I don’t know what I’m doing at all, Ben. You can see I need your help.”

She had started pacing at some point. Ben couldn’t stand to sit and watch so he stood, making his way over to lean on the side of his desk. “Jadzia, what are you talking about?” he asked again. 

“I just need to make sure I’m going about this the right way,” she said again. “It’s so difficult when you just don’t know. It would be so much easier if I were proposing to a Klingon!”

Proposing? Ben blinked slowly and stupidly, waiting for his brain to catch up with his ears. When it finally did, a grin crept over his face. “But Nerys isn’t a Klingon,” he said, “and so you’ve come to me for help.”

“Exactly! I know what Trill custom dictates, I know Klingon, even Terran custom. But Bajorans? I have no idea if there’s something specific I’m supposed to do.”

“And you think I, as the Emissary, might know a thing or two about Bajoran weddings?” Jadzia nodded. “Well, Old Man, you’re right about that.”

“Benjamin! Does that mean you’ll help?”

“Of course. Just let me know what you need.”

Quark’s Bar, Grill, Gaming House and Holosuite Arcade: 1300 hours

“Another Christmas, come and gone,” Quark said. He was ripping chunks of tinsel down from the shelves behind the bar and practically throwing them at Odo who had agreed to help take down the decorations in the bar. “What do I have to show for it? The smallest increase in profits, and a whole lot of sparkling plastic, that’s what.”

“Surely any increase in profits excites you,” Odo said. “I’ve seen you find a slip of latinum on the promenade and react as if you’ve just been made heir to the Grand Nagus.” 

Odo was rewarded for this comment with a faceful of tinsel as Quark chucked it haphazardly in his general direction. “Speaking of the Grand Nagus, he might just name me his heir with a little persuasion. Rumour has it, he and my mother have been getting closer.”

Odo deposited his armful of tinsel on the counter. Quark rarely spoke about his errant mother, and any mention sparked curiosity in Odo. “Is that so?”

“And on the topic of moogi,” Quark continued, “she’s been asking to meet you. As unpleasant as this is sure to be, we have to call her soon. Otherwise she might show up in person to see you, and that could be disastrous.” 

Odo found himself agreeing. He didn’t think he could handle another member of Quark’s family. Quark, Rom and Nog were more than enough without a fourth joining forces with them. “We could call her tomorrow evening,” he offered. “Unless you think there’s danger of her showing up before then.”

“Tomorrow would be fine.” Quark pulled the last bit of tinsel down and tried to pass it off to Odo. It clung to his fingers, the thin plastic sticking despite him shaking his hand to dislodge it. When it became clear that the tinsel would be hard to get rid of, Quark reached out and wiped his hand on Odo’s uniform. The tinsel stuck to Odo and Quark moved out of reach before Odo could pull it free and pass it back. “Get rid of all that for me, will you?” he asked, waving at the tinsel. 

With a grumbled complaint, Odo gathered the tinsel and started for the reclemator that was tucked away behind the bar. There was a lot of tinsel, and this could prove to be a long process. If he could even find his way back to the reclemator in the first place… there was such a ridiculous amount of tinsel that he could hardly see. 

“Don’t break anything!” Quark yelled at him.

“Thank you for your concern,” Odo grumbled. 

“I meant anything on my shelves. You almost collided with that one,” Quark pushed past Odo headed somewhere that was obscured by a blob of tangled tinsel. There was a rattling noise as Quark fiddled with something out of sight. “If you break any of these bottles you’ll owe me money.”

Odo took another step in the direction of the reclemator, or at least in what he thought was the right direction. He hit his hip off the bar, and let out another growl of frustration. 

“Do you know how expensive that bottle of kanar is?” Quark was complaining. “If it falls–”

“Why don’t you stop talking and help me carry this?” Odo demanded. 

Quark grudgingly agreed. He’d carry tinsel if it meant avoiding the loss of his most expensive alcohol. They made their way to the back without further incident, only for Quark to dump his share of the tinsel on Odo and rush back to the bar to check if he was inadvertently ignoring customers. 

Still grumbling to himself, Odo began to ball up wads of tinsel so that they could fit in the small unit. This one was designed for food and drink waste from the bar, and it was a struggle to get all the tinsel into it. It would be impossible to do it all at once, so Odo settled for shoving small quantities back into the unit. It had been no more than a minute, and he’d gotten through a small portion of the entire amount, when suddenly Quark came rushing back around the corner.

“Stop!” he shouted, pulling the remaining tinsel away from Odo. “We still need this!”

“You told me–”

“I forgot,” Quark said. “The Federation standard year is coming to a close, and Sisko wants to book the bar tomorrow evening for a private party!”

There had always been New Year celebrations on the station, at various points throughout the year as the Federation standard year closed, and then for the Bajoran end of year, and even small parties for Ferengi New Years. Quark had spotted one of every kind of New Years celebration, and he usually had people clamouring for drinks at each event. If Sisko wanted a party, he could have a party, and a party meant that Quark still needed that tinsel.

“If Captain Sisko wants tinsel, he can put it up himself,” Odo said. He pulled several strands off his sleeve. “I have had just about enough of this stuff. You and Sisko can enjoy yourselves putting it back up.”

Quark started gathering the tinsel from where Odo had dumped it. “We’ll have to move that call with moogi,” he reasoned. “If we’re hosting a party tomorrow, we can’t call her. Are you free tonight?”

Unfortunately, Odo was. 

Quark’s Bar: 1320 hours

“You’re sure this is the way to go about it?” Jadzia asked. She and Ben were sitting at the bar in Quark’s, watching the Ferengi hang chaotic bunches of tinsel back over his shelves. He had recovered it from reclamation in time to preserve most of it, much to Odo’s dismay. The constable had practically stormed out of the bar with strands of tinsel in his hair. 

“I’m certain. You speak conversational Bajoran, right?”

“I’ve picked enough up to say what you’ve told me I need to say.”

“Wonderful. And beyond what you need to do for tradition, I think I know the major well enough to say that she’d prefer something small, but meaningful. If we throw a private party here on New Years, then it’s a meaningful date, and you’re surrounded by friends. I can make sure we all know what’s happening so that we can leave the two of you alone when the moment is right.” 

Jadzia’s face finally lit up with a smile. She shook her head slowly, still grinning at him. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, it doesn’t feel real! Tomorrow night, I’m asking her to marry me.”

The sound of shattering glass interrupted Ben before he could provide any kind of answer. He looked up to see Quark standing there, a tray in hand that was tipped so that its contents must have slid off. “You’re asking Major Kira to marry you?” he asked. 

Jadzia’s smile grew. “I’m asking Major Kira to marry me,” she repeated with wonder, and then with conviction: “ I’m asking Major Kira to marry me .”

“Quark is something wrong?” Ben asked. Quark had yet to move from his spot, still frozen and staring. 

“I just… It’s just that it feels like it’s barely been a week since we all paired up. This just seems so sudden.”

“It’s been a year, Quark,” Jadzia said. “I know I’m ready, and I hope she is too.”

“Weddings are so expensive,” Quark lamented, finally breaking out of his shock and turning to grab something to clean the broken glass with. 

“Luckily you’re supplying drinks, not paying for them,” Jadzia pointed out. 

That cheered Quark up somewhat. He cleaned the floor, and poured Jadzia a new drink. “This is all happening tomorrow?” he asked.

“I’m asking her to marry me tomorrow ,” Jadzia said in agreement. 

“Are you nervous, Old Man?”

Jadzia was still smiling. She turned back to Ben, the smile never leaving her face. “Benjamin, I’m too happy to be nervous.” 

Holosuite B: 1400 hours

“If you wanted me dead, you could just have poisoned my lunch,” Garak announced from his prone position in the room temperature snow bank. “This was an unnecessary and cruel measure.”

“Elim, I’m not trying to kill you,” Julian said with a laugh. He reached down, encouraging Garak to take his hand. “It’s not cold in here, and so far the worst thing that’s happened to you is a couple of tumbles into the soft snow bank. You’ll be just fine.” 

“There is snow down the back of my shirt,” Garak complained. He took Julian’s hand and let himself be maneuvered back onto his feet. “And you’ve tied knives to my feet. Human sports all seem to be designed for maximum injury.” 

“It’s called skating, Elim. It’s supposed to be romantic–” Julian broke off when Garak slipped again. He caught him, pulling him in close. “Put your hands on my shoulders, and just hold on . That’s the best way to learn.”

Garak didn’t argue with that. He took a vice-like grip, seizing fistfuls of Julian’s warm coat. “What now?” he asked. 

“Ease up a little so I can breathe,” Julian requested. He moved next to Garak, letting him wrap one arm around Julian’s shoulders. They stood side by side, Garak leaning into Julian’s solid form to avoid slipping again. “Elim, with the way you’re carrying on, I’m beginning to think you’re not enjoying this at all!”

“Whatever gave you that impression?” Garak asked. His other arm, the one not gripping Julian’s shoulders, flailed suddenly in an effort to maintain balance. It ended up landing on Julian’s torso as well. 

Julian gave him a look of surprise, and Garak began to realize his mistake. Julian was still learning the difference between arguing and arguing , and he was clearly caught off guard by the genuine expression of displeasure on Garak’s face. “If you’re really miserable, we can just leave. I thought it would be fun to try something new, since you seemed unenthusiastic about sledding last year. But I guess skating is out too.”

“I feel unbalanced and clumsy,” Garak told him. “Neither are nice feelings. I am unused to them, and have no desire to become better acquainted with the sensations.” 

“Very well then,” Julian said. “Computer, end program.”

The snow and ice dissipated, and they were left clinging to each other in the holosuite, still balanced precariously on their skates. Julian helped Garak lower himself to the ground and sat with him, starting on his own skate laces. 

“My dear, as nice as it is to spend time with you, I fear that things like this skating are better suited to the holosuite visits you make with Chief O’Brien.” 

“I guess so,” Julian said. 

“I’m sorry,” Garak offered. Julian’s smile looked a little tight. 

“It’s not your fault,” Julian said with a sigh. “I should know better than to take you anywhere near snow or ice. Even if it’s only holographic.” 

There was a disappointed slump to Julian’s shoulders as they left the suite, and Garak couldn’t quite forgive himself for having put it there. 

Docking Ring, Upper Pylon A: 1430 hours

“Chief, if I may have a moment of your time?” 

Chief O’Brien looked up and immediately frowned at his visitor. “I’m busy, Garak.”

“It’s about Dr. Bashir,” Garak said.

O’Brien set down his coil spanner and glared at Garak in earnest. There was just a touch of protectiveness in the scowl Garak was being treated to, which was what Garak had been hoping for. “What about Julian?” 

O’Brien, despite the part he had played in setting Julian and Garak up, was still just as surly as ever in his interactions with Garak. This would require extra charm and appeals to the Chief’s loyalty to Julian. Garak widened his smile just a bit more, purposefully blind to the look that was being directed his way. “I’m afraid I just can’t keep up with him in any of his holo-programs. I was hoping you could help me. I need to learn to skate. Preferably before tomorrow.”

“Before tomorrow?” O’Brien scoffed. “Look, assuming I even wanted to help you, there’s no way I could teach you how to skate in one day.” 

“I just need to know how to balance, and how to move in a line. Maybe how to stop,” Garak added. “I’d like to avoid any unnecessary crashes with the snowbank. 

“ You want me to teach you to skate,” O’Brien said again. “Why? So you can impress Julian? Why not ask him to teach you? You could spend the entire time clinging to him, which, if you ask me, is far better than having you cling to me.”

“Something we can agree on,” Garak said. “However, I’m afraid the lesson with Julian did not go so well earlier, the result of my own impatience I’m afraid. I need to at least know the basics so that I can make up for my earlier shortcomings.”

O’Brien finally stood, stretching and dusting off his uniform. He’d evidently been crouching in front of this panel for some time. Back at his full height, he eyed Garak thoughtfully. “What’s in it for me?” he asked.

This had not been an anticipated question. Miles Edward O’Brien, best friend to Julian Subatoi Bashir, was not supposed to need coercion in order to help his friend. Garak searched his mind for anything persuasive that he could offer him. “A bottle of whiskey,” he said after a stunned pause. 

“And your eternal gratitude, I hope,” O’Brien said. “All right Garak, you’re on. When do we start?”

Garak had no desire to re-enter the snowy holosuite, but it was a necessity if he really meant to go through with this. He followed O’Brien back to Quark’s and all too soon he found himself standing knee deep in the tepid snow.

“It’s gross having it be so warm,” O’Brien complained. “Snow is supposed to be cold and crisp, not warm .” 

Garak trudged his way down to the lake and stepped onto it cautiously, sitting on the smooth ice to tie his skates on. O’Brien followed a step behind, muttering now about the structural integrity of the ice. “Can’t be safe,” he was saying, “skating in this heat.” 

But skate they did. Or rather, O’Brien did, making his way out onto the ice with ease and skating a circle around Garak before Garak could even struggle to his feet. Now, without Julian’s steadying shoulders to hold himself up with, Garak suddenly felt very vulnerable. He couldn’t move with any degree of speed, couldn’t balance, he was effectively immobile and the only person who was in any position to help him was Chief O’Brien. 

“Come on, Garak. Just practice walking. One foot, that’s it. Then the other–” 

Garak hit the ice hard. Safeties or no, that would leave a bruise. He hissed in discomfort, then pulled himself back to his feet. “Is there nothing that would make this easier?” he demanded. 

“I could get you a chair,” O’Brien said, thinking it over. “Sure, that helped Molly when Keiko and I were teaching her. Computer, one chair.” 

A chair materialized next to Garak. He grabbed for it, using it to steady himself. He had been perilously close to falling again. “What is this for?” he asked. 

“You’ve already figured it out,” O’Brien said. “Hold the chair and push it along in front of you.”

It took the better part of an hour, but Garak made it a lap around the lake pushing the chair in front of him. Chief O’Brien skated circles around him the entire way, which was maddening. His shouted instruction was helpful though, and at the end of his lap Garak left the chair behind and fought his way around again without it. He fell only once or twice that time, which was a victory. 

O’Brien made him go round ten times at his crawling beginner’s pace before he was satisfied with Garak’s progress. “We can quit,” he said. “You can move, you can stop sometimes, and you’re falling less. Should be good enough for Julian.” 

It would have to be. Garak was so sore he wouldn’t have been able to continue even if he had needed the practice. He was ready to make his way stiffly back to his quarters to collapse into bed, but the chief wasn’t going to let him go that easily. “You still owe me whiskey,” he reminded Garak. 

Garak sighed. There was no way he could outrun the chief in this condition, so he resigned himself to spending more time with him. The only saving grace was the thought that Julian would still be wrapping up his shift at this hour. Stiffly waddling down the stairs to the bar had done enough damage to Garak’s dignity. He didn’t need Julian to see him, that would only be salt in the wound. 

“What can I get you?” Quark asked when they finally reached the barstools and Garak leaned back onto one of them, perching lightly on it because he was sure that if he sat all the way he would never rise again. 

“Whiskey, your finest bottle,” O’Brien said cheerfully. “On Mr. Garak’s tab, Quark.” 

Quark gave Garak a look. “It’s expensive.”

“Go ahead,” Garak said, waving Quark away. To O’Brien he said: “Payment as due. Now may I leave?”

“You are free to do as you like, Garak,” O’Brien said. “Don’t let me keep you.” 

Quark came back with the bottle in hand. “Ten strips,” he said. “Charged to your account, Garak.” 

The cost of a dress. Garak didn’t let his annoyance show, rather he just smiled his most benevolent smile and used his arm to lever himself off the stool. “I really must be going,” he said, giving each in turn a polite nod. “Good evening, Gentlemen.”

“Don’t you want to stay to hear the latest gossip?” Quark asked. He leaned across the bar, inviting Garak to sit back down. Garak did so with a barely suppressed groan. 

“What’s up?” O’Brien asked. “Anything good?”

“Anything good? Try this: Dax was in here earlier with Captain Sisko. They’re plotting again. This is obviously a secret, you understand, but Dax is planning on proposing to Major Kira tomorrow evening!”

Several thoughts flashed through Garak’s mind in quick succession. The first, that he and Julian had been together as long as Kira and Dax. Marriage was as far from his mind as it had been when they’d first started, it seemed such a distant half possibility that he had hardly allowed himself to consider it. The second thought was that a wedding meant business for a tailor, and oh, two wedding dresses as likely as not, which would be a tall order. 

The third thought was that this was a delicious piece of information, and he would delight in relaying it to Julian. He just had to get to the doctor before O’Brien could tell him, which was going to be difficult because at this point, perched still on the edge of the barstool, Garak wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand when he rose. If he could even rise. 

It was with some relief that Garak managed to rock himself back onto his feet. He had never been an unfit man, and he took care to keep himself in shape. But skating ? He’d used muscles he wasn’t aware he had, and wasn’t interested in developing any further. Hastily, before he could collapse back onto the stool, he made his excuses and left. He had news to deliver to Julian, and then he wanted to sleep until every ache and pain faded away.

The Bajoran Temple: 1800 hours

“Nerys, am I interrupting?” 

Nerys turned from her prayer to find Jadzia standing behind her. She gave her a tired smile. “Yes, but I was just about done. Do you want to join me in closing out my prayer?”

Jadzia nodded. “I was hoping you’d be alright with me joining you this evening. I could use a little wisdom from the prophets myself.”

“The captain has you working on something tough?” Nerys asked. She handed Jadzia a match stick and pointed to the unlit votive candles on the other side of the temple entrance. 

“Something like that,” Jadzia agreed. Better, obviously, that Nerys does not know why Jadzia was really there. She needed the blessing of the prophets if she wanted to get Nerys to agree to marry her. 

Jadzia lit the candle, then joined Nerys by the orb, kneeling beside her and bowing her head to match Nerys’ reverent pose. Her hand reached out and entwined with Nerys’, fingers tangling together in a silent show of support and love. 

“What are you praying for?” Nerys whispered. 

“That would be telling,” Jadzia said. 

Nerys smiled in the half light. Her eyes glittered with the glow of the candles, sending a shivery tremor of adoration through Jadzia. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with me, would it?” 

Jadzia wasn’t a good liar, but past hosts had been, and she drew on their expertise. She gave Nerys a reassuring smile and whispered “Of course not, I’m just asking for their blessing in the coming year.”

Nerys hummed her approval. She squeezed Jadzia’s hand, and closed those beautiful eyes to block out even the faint warm light of the candles. Her lips moved in quiet prayer, and Jadzia joined her, keeping her words low enough that they were only a brush of air across her lips. 

The prayer felt clumsy. Jadzia wasn’t used to this, but it mattered so much to Nerys, and Nerys mattered so much to her. So Jadzia shut her eyes and prayed, not that her proposal would be accepted, because she wanted that to be all Nerys. Instead, she prayed that the prophets would give her their blessing, and that whatever the outcome of Sisko’s New Years party, Nerys would be happy . 

With Jadzia or not, she deserved to be happy. That is what Jadzia prayed for, her hand clasping Nerys’ hand in the candle lit temple. 

Quark and Odo’s Quarters: 2100 hours

“Lieutenant Dax is doing what ?” Odo demanded when Quark relayed the news to him that evening. 

“Asking Major Kira to marry her,” Quark repeated. “Tomorrow at the party. And before you get any ideas, I will not be proposing to you. Weddings are expensive.” 

“Of course that would be your objection,” Odo grumbled. “Should I ever bother proposing, or is that a permanent–and, I’ll add, unsolicited –refusal?”

“We’ll see,” Quark told him. “For now, just be content with meeting Moogi.”

Odo sighed in annoyance. Dating Quark was just as frustrating as everything else about the Ferengi. He took a seat beside him facing the comm panel. As the call rang through, Odo put up with Quark needlessly pawing at his hair as if it could be smoothed back any more than it already was. 

The call was picked up, and the screen lit up with the image of a Ferengi female. Odo had never seen Ishka before, but he had heard stories and was relieved (but not surprised) to find she was wearing clothes. Quark’s small noise of distress was the only thing that gave away how supposedly inappropriate this deviance was from the Ferengi norm. 

“Quark!’ Ishka exclaimed happily. “I didn’t think you’d actually call. Your brother calls weekly, but you’ve never cared as much as Rom does about your moogi–”

“Yes, yes,” Quark said. “You wanted me to call so you could finally meet Odo. Well, here he is.” 

“Rom is such a good son,” Ishka said, finishing her earlier tirade. She turned her attention to Odo, who immediately got the strangest urge to start wiggling uncomfortably in his chair. Something about her critical gaze made Odo feel inadequate. “Only Quark could end up dating the station’s chief of security. I suppose you’re keeping him honest?”

Odo cleared his throat. An unnecessary action, but it did serve to ground him a little. He was far more uncomfortable than he could have predicted being. “I try,” he said. 

“And how do you expect to get anything done with him watching you?” Ishka demanded, turning her attention back to Quark. 

“Well–” Quark began. 

Ishka’s eyes narrowed suddenly, and then she was back to smiling. “Nevermind, Quark. I see what you’re up to. You always were clever! Is this rule 76, or 113?” 

Odo hadn’t realized that Ferengi could blush. He’d certainly never seen Quark do it before, and yet here he was, turning a peculiar shade of red. Odo knew his rules; he had made a point to learn them when he and Quark had been enemies. That knowledge was somewhat of a curse now, he was discovering. He would have blushed too if it had been physiologically possible. 

Rule of Acquisition #76: Every once in a while, declare peace. It confuses the hell out of your enemies.

Rule of Acquisition #113: Always have sex with the boss.

“It’s been wonderful talking to you, Moogi!” Quark squeaked. “We should probably be going now–”

“Quark, I’ve barely had a chance to see either of you!” Ishka exclaimed. 

“Moogi? What was that? Oh no, the connection’s breaking up!” Quark said, his voice far too loud. “Damn this old Cardassian technology!” and he slammed his hand over the button to end the transmission. 

They sat very still in the sudden silence. Eventually Odo managed to choke out “Rule 113?”

“What about it?” Quark wouldn’t look at him.

“What do you mean ‘what about it’?” Odo demanded. “Is she right? Has all this been a calculated move? Are you and I dating so that you can distract me?”

“Odo, it’s been a year. How can you ask that?” Quark hissed. “I knew calling my mother was a bad idea.” 

There was another silence before Quark spoke again. “Besides,” he said with a pout, “you’re not my boss.”

Odo snorted out a laugh. “That much we can agree on. I’ve never been able to make you do anything.” Relenting, he leaned over Quark, pressing a consoling kiss to his forehead. “If you have been dating me to distract me, how do you know I’m not doing the same?”

“I don’t,” Quark said, finally cracking a smile again. “I thought that was the fun part. It keeps the romance alive.”

“It keeps me on my toes,” Odo grumbled. “But, I suppose I don’t really mind.”

They stayed like that for a while, just cuddling in front of the empty comm screen. Finally Quark said in a hushed tone, “Rule 304, Odo.”

“There aren’t that many,” Odo said after a pause.

“I know, I just made it up,” Quark said. 

“And what is ‘Rule 304’?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Quark said mischievously. “Kiss me and maybe you’ll find out…” 

FST: December 31st, New Years Eve

Garak and Bashir’s Quarters: 1200 hours

“Elim, what were you doing last night?” Julian demanded, poking the Cardassian in the side and eliciting another groan of displeasure. “I’ve never known you to sleep in this late, and the tricorder tells me you have muscle fatigue and a variety of bruises. This can’t be from skating, we weren’t out long enough!”

“Why are you here?” Garak muttered into the pillows. He had been left in the bed hours ago and had been enjoying the extra space. While he missed the doctor’s warmth, being able to spread himself out was nice, considering his muscles all ached and the cool sheets were the only thing that seemed to be helping at all. 

“I’m on my lunch break. You never opened the shop, and the computer tells me you haven’t moved since I left this morning. I was worried,” Julian explained. 

“Worried about what?” Garak grumbled. 

“I don’t know, worried you might be ill, I suppose. You were asleep when I came home last night too.” 

“I’m entitled to some proper sleep, I should think,” Garak said around his face full of pillow. “You had me out in the snow yesterday.”

“For all of ten minutes. That can’t be it, but I can see you’re not interested in telling me what’s really wrong here. You know where to find me if you change your mind. In the meantime, I’ve put painkillers and water on the bed stand. Short of taking time off work to give you a massage, that’s about all I can do.”

Garak couldn’t quite help the little purr that escaped his throat at the thought of a massage. He was so sore, and Julian had proven over the past year to be very effective at massaging his way around scales and getting right to the problem. “I don’t suppose you could call in sick?” he asked, his tone deliberately plaintive. 

Julian had known him too well and too long to fall for it. “No. Don’t even try to persuade me, I have to go back to work. And you need to rest, Sisko wants us all at a New Years party this evening. It’s short notice, I know, but he didn’t seem to be offering an invitation so much as just ordering us there. I can’t imagine what it’s about–”

Garak could, and the memory of what he had been so eager to tell Julian the night before came flooding back with such intensity that he shot up in bed– and then promptly curled in on himself with a hiss of pain. 

“That bad?” Julian asked. He came and sat on the edge of the bed, running another scan with his tricorder. “Maybe I should take time off, things were slow this morning. I’m sure Nurse Jabara can manage without me.”

Garak uncurled just enough to look at Julian hopefully. “I may know why Sisko wants us all at that party,” he said. “If you stay, I believe I could be persuaded to share that information.”

Julian was tempted. He seemed about to say something, when suddenly he was interrupted by the chime of his combadge. “Infirmary to Dr. Bashir.”

Julian sighed. “Go ahead,” he said, giving Garak an apologetic smile. 

“We need you back in the infirmary, Doctor. There are patients coming in, and we’re short staffed.” 

“On my way,” Julian said. He turned his attention back to Garak as he rose to leave. “I’m sorry, but duty calls. I suppose that’s what I get for saying we had a slow morning. If you need anything, call. And if you decide to tell me what Sisko’s party is all about, let me know.” 

Garak was still lying on the bed when Julian commed him an hour later. 

“You weren’t going to tell me that Dax is proposing to Major Kira?”

“Does everybody know at this point?” Garak asked. He finally forced himself to sit up and reach for the pills and water on the bedside. Even just that much movement hurt. 

“Everybody except Kira,” Julian said. 

Apparently, nobody on this station was capable of keeping a secret. Nobody, that was, except for Garak.

Dax and Kira’s Quarters: 1800 hours

“Do I look alright?” Nerys asked, nervous hands pressing nonexistent wrinkles out of her dress. “I never know what to wear to these things.”

Jadzia had just finished tying her hair up. She gave Nerys an appreciative once over, observing the cut and fall of the dress. “Is that one of Garak’s?”

“No, I bought it on Bajor.” 

It had the mark of a Bajoran tailor. It was cut low in the back, high waisted, and then all draped layers of silk and organza. Nerys looked beautiful, and in that moment Jadzia knew with confidence that not once in her eight lifetimes had she ever seen anything so lovely. She said so too, which earned her a smile that betrayed how happy Nerys was feeling in that moment too. Nerys didn’t even know about the little box tucked into Jadzia’s pocket, and she was still just happy. Happy to be there, dressed up, going out with Jadzia. Happy to be happy. 

“Really, Nerys. You look beautiful.” Jadzia couldn’t stop grinning. “What do you say we go for a walk around the promenade? I can’t believe you’re wasting all this beauty on me and the other officers. You should be shown off.” 

Nerys protested once, then agreed. She followed Jadzia out into the corridor and towards the turbolift, still glowing with happiness and contentment to just be going somewhere with somebody that she loved. Jadzia reached out and linked their arms together, pulling Nerys in closer.

“Do you want my hand too?” Nerys laughed, linking their fingers as they walked into the turbolift. 

“Promenade,” Jadzia informed the lift. They stood in silence, listening to the whir of the engine and the sound of their own breath in the small space. When the doors opened, Jadzia pulled Nerys out with her and they started on their way, giggling to each other about the stares they were drawing. 

“It’s ridiculous,” Nerys said. “I feel watched.” 

“You are being watched,” Jadzia said lightly. “Enjoy it. We both look too nice to be ignored.”

They walked right past the bar, where Quark was no doubt setting up for the party that would begin in just under an hour. Jadzia pulled Nerys with her, up the stairs to the upper level of the promenade. They stopped under a particular window, staring at a particular spot in space. 

“The wormhole?” Nerys whispered. “Jadzia, this is where we went for our first real date. But it’s not opening tonight, why are we here?”

“I just wanted to see you here again,” Jadzia confessed. “You look beautiful.”

“So you’ve told me,” Nerys said. Her face crinkled up into a smile, “What’s all this about?”

The box in Jadzia’s pocket needed to wait. She owed that to Benjamin and the others who would be waiting for them at Quark's. Jadzia patted at the box absently with her free hand, but she left it where it was. “What do the prophets say about love?” she finally asked. “Were we fated to find each other?”

“I don’t know,” Nerys said. “The prophets are rarely so straightforward. I’d like to think we were meant to meet, that maybe it was significant that we had our first date here overlooking the celestial temple, but I suppose I could be wrong. At any rate, I’d say we have their blessing to continue.”

Jadzia nodded. The box in her pocket could wait another hour or so. For now, she was so blissfully content to be standing there beside Nerys. She turned her head slightly so that she could bide her time, watching Nerys in profile, contemplating the stars. 

Garak and Bashir’s Quarters: 1845 hours 

“We’ve become that couple,” Garak said morosely. He had just gotten dressed, still holding himself stiffly, and was currently standing as far away as he could from the disaster that was unfolding in their quarters. 

Julian was, at that moment, wrestling a rather large pet lizard into a purple crochet sweater. He looked up at Garak’s remark. “You sound as if the idea of that depresses you,” he observed.

“It does,” Garak told him. “That couple is boring, predictable, and--dare I say it… fond of kitsch.” He shuddered. 

“It’s just a sweater, Elim,” Julian said. “You’re not losing all your mystery and subtlety because we’ve put Edo in a sweater.”

“My dear, that sweater leaves no room for subtlety,” Garak complained. “Subtlety has been brutally murdered with every unfortunate movement of Rom’s crochet hook.”

The sweater really was garish. It was almost exactly what you’d expect from a Ferengi engineer who had a penchant for arts and crafts. This was the ugliest holiday sweater to end all ugly holiday sweaters. Rom had somehow woven fiberoptic lights into it, and so it was not only a metaphorical eye-sore, it also glowed and twinkled at a frequency that was making it a more literal concern. 

“Just be grateful he didn’t make you one,” Julian said. “Really Elim, are you always this touchy when somebody steps on your toes over one of your many careers? I mean, there was that incident in the holosuite with my spy program, and I’m sure I heard you offering Keiko advice on gardening the other day. Which was an absurd thing to do, considering she’s a botanist.”

Garak sniffed. “A botanist who doesn’t know the first thing about orchids.”

“And now,” Julian said, refusing to be distracted, “Rom is making clothes, and you can’t stand it. He’s infringing on your role as the station’s tailor, is that it?”

“Referring to that as tailoring,” Garak flapped his hand at the sweater without sparing it a look, “is an affront to the profession.”

Julian placed Edo in his carrier with a sigh. “You’re making us late.”

“You say that as if I were doing so intentionally.”

“Aren’t you?”

Garak hummed, a tuneless little noise of noncommittal. “I wouldn’t mind keeping you here a little longer,” he said, his voice low and as persuasive as he could make it, which was very effective if the look on Julian’s face was any indicator. 

“They’re expecting us at Quark’s,” he said, though Garak thought he detected a faint tremor in Julian’s voice. 

Any more pressure and Julian would likely crack and agree to spend the evening with Garak. Garak entertained the thought briefly, gratified that he could have such an effect on the doctor. But there was nothing fun in a game so easily won. “Well, I wouldn’t dream of making you late,” he lied, and he held out his arm for the doctor. “Shall we?”

“If Rom asks, tell him you love that sweater,” Julian instructed. He started across the room, wrapping his arm around Garak’s own, his fingers pressing lightly into the scales around Garak’s wrist. 

“You want me to lie?” Garak asked, as if he’d never heard anything more scandalous in all his life.

“An alien concept to you, I know. But I suggest that you lie like your life depends on it,” Julian said back. “Because, my dear Elim, it just might.”

Garak couldn’t suppress the involuntary shudder of delight that ran down his spine at the playful threat. Julian’s tone had made it clear that it was a joke, and yet it had quite the effect on Garak. It reminded him that he could be undone by Julian just as easily as Julian could be undone by him. 

And what a frighteningly delightful thought that was. 

Quark’s Bar: 2000 hours

“You’re underdressed,” Quark complains, tugging at Odo’s uniform. “Technically, you’re not dressed at all. Isn’t that an appalling thought?”

Quark was wearing one of his nicest suits, something that had been expensive, Odo imagined. This was confirmed by the way he shied away from Rom, who was walking past with a tray of drinks. “What would you rather I wear?” he asked. “I doubt any of your clothes would suit me.”

“We’ll never know if you never try,” Quark said. 

With a sigh, Odo did his best to mimic what Quark was currently wearing. He made some strategic changes though, including omitting the jacket and its hideous geometric pattern. The pants, he didn’t mind, though he made the buckle less ostentatious. The shirt was actually quite nice. The only real issue was that they were now matching. 

“Isn’t that much better?” Quark demanded, tugging Odo’s sleeves down and fiddling with the plain buttons. “Not quite as nice as mine, but much better than your uniform.” 

“Garak is going to take issue with it,” Odo predicted. Quark didn’t bother to respond, turning instead to double check the arrangements of tinsel and to change the replicator settings. 

“We’re ready,” he said after a moment. “Rom! Go open the door, will you?”

Odo made himself comfortable on a barstool, happy to sit and people watch. It was one of his favourite activities on a normal day, and even more so tonight with excitement running high and everyone dressed in their finest. He was glad Quark had made him change, doubly so when the compliments started pouring in. 

Captain Sisko had arrived first with Kasidy on his arm and Jake trailing behind. Sisko and Yates took a table together, and Jake came over to perch on a stool next to Odo. “You look different,” he said. 

“It’s the clothes,” Odo said. 

“I like them,” Jake said. “What do you think, Nog?” 

Nog had been walking past on his way to help his dad with something behind the bar. He had been there when Quark had talked Odo into changing, but he gave Odo another look now. “Not bad, Jake.”

Odo was secretly pleased with the compliment. If even the two terrors could agree that he looked nice, then he supposed Quark had been right after all. Quark did not appear to be glad about the compliments. "They like it better on you," he grumbled. 

Garak and Dr. Bashir arrived next. The doctor was holding their pet lizard, who was bundled into what Odo recognized as one of Rom’s creations. They passed by Odo on their way to a table. 

“You look nice,” Bashir said with some surprise. “Garak, did you–?”

“Not one of mine, I’m afraid,” Garak said. “Is this your own doing?” he asked Odo.

“Yes,” Odo said. 

“Impressive,” Garak said with a nod, proving Odo’s earlier prediction wrong.

“Are we here before them?” Bashir demanded before the conversation about clothing could continue. “Kira and Dax, I mean.”

“They’re still on their way,” Odo said. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”

The pair settled down at a table near Sisko and placed their order with Nog. The waiting continued, everyone watching the door with excited anticipation. 

The next to arrive were O’Brien and his family. Molly ran straight in and up to the counter, already placing her order for a hot chocolate with Nog before her parents could even get in through the door. 

“You look nice,” Keiko said, passing Odo on her way to collect Molly. “Miles, doesn’t Odo look nice?”

“I suppose so,” O’Brien said. He picked Molly up and carried her to a nearby table. 

There was an eerie silence in the bar. They were all waiting for the anticipated arrival of the evening’s key players. Quark heard the step outside the door before anyone else did, and his cry of “Here they come, act normal !” was what heralded their entrance to the bar. 

Dax was in a suit, dark blue and complementing her pale eyes. Kira was in a red cocktail dress. They had stuck with their uniform colours, a choice that was serving them well. They looked beautiful, entering arm-in-arm just as the bar erupted into excited conversation in an attempt to cover the fact that they had all been watching the door. 

“You look nice,” Nerys told Odo, her whole face lighting up with a beautiful smile. 

“Bloodwine for me, and a Bajoran springwine for the lady,” Jadzia told Quark. Her hand fell to Nerys’ lower back, steering her towards a table. They settled in near Benjamin and Kasidy, who exchanged knowing smiles before greeting them. 

“Everyone’s being too obvious,” Odo growled, just loud enough that Quark heard him and shot him a look. 

“Don’t make it worse,” he hissed, placing Jadzia’s requested drinks on a tray. “We can’t give it away before it happens, so just sit there and enjoy the party.”

Quark’s Bar: 2100 hours

“We need more drinks,” Julian observed, tipping Garak’s glass towards him so that he could see the dregs of kanar that barely covered the bottom of the glass. He rose from his seat, picking the empty glasses up. “More of the same, Elim?”

Garak nodded his affirmation, then leaned back into his chair. He could not enjoy the quiet for long. Almost immediately after Julian departed, his chair was filled. Jadzia slid into the seat across from Garak, leaning across the table conspiratorially. “I see you brought Edo,” she said. 

Edo was perched in the centre of the table, watching something indeterminate in the middle distance. His eyes weren’t quite focused on whatever it was, but he blinked at the sound of his name. 

“Garak, would you and Julian mind if I borrowed him? I’ve been going over how I’m going to present the ring to Nerys, and I can’t imagine anything more fitting than having Edo carry it to her.”

Garak blinked slowly, trying to clear his head enough to determine whether or not she was serious. “You want the lizard to help you propose?” he asked. 

“I do. Do you think that would be alright?”

Garak looked at Edo as if the lizard would save him the trouble of providing an answer. Edo frowned at him, conveying the general idea that he wasn’t opposed to doing the work, but he wished he were better dressed for the occasion. “I suppose that would be alright,” Garak told Jadzia. 

She beamed at him, reaching down and scooping Edo off of the table. “Wonderful. I’ll get him back to you in one piece.”

“That would be preferable,” Garak agreed. He was somewhat startled by the way she had phrased her reassurance, but he masked it with a pleasant smile.  

When Julian returned to the table, Edo had disappeared somewhere with Jadzia and Captain Sisko. Julian stopped short of their table, observing Edo’s absence. He set their drinks down a little harder than he needed to. “Garak, where is our lizard?”

“I’ve allowed Lieutenant Dax to borrow him. I trust that is not a problem?” 

Julian nodded, but Garak could see he was on edge. “If it’s any reassurance,” Garak said, “she did promise not to chop him up.”

Julian nearly choked on the mouthful of synthehol he had just taken. He sputtered it over the tabletop in his efforts to avoid aspirating it. “She promised what ?” 

“I believe that was how she worded it. The general message was that she would ensure he remained unharmed.”

Julian was staring at him, a look of utter confusion on his face. Finally he seemed to arrive at a conclusion, relaxing back in his chair with a sigh of relief. “Oh, she told you she’d return him in one piece.”

Garak was saved from responding by Captain Sisko, who appeared over Julian’s shoulder. His eyes were wide and he seemed to be blinking some kind of message at Garak. Garak had no hope of deciphering it, but he understood that he was needed for something. He set his kanar down. “My dear, I’ll be right back.”

Julian let him go. Garak practically had to jog to keep up with Sisko, who was leading him to the back of the bar by the dabo tables with uncharacteristic haste. 

“Captain?” Garak asked when Sisko stopped in front of the first dabo table. 

Garak’s attention was drawn to the back of the table by the sound of something large rustling back there. Too big to be a vole. Much too big, and was that a hand? With an exasperated sigh, Jadzia crawled out from behind the table. She brushed the dust from her suit, taking Sisko’s offered assistance to help herself stand. She turned to Garak, face set into an apologetic grimace.

Garak looked at her, then at the ground by the table. “You lost Edo,” he said, feeling somewhat numb. 

“And the ring.” Jadzia sighed. “He took the box and ran into a vent back there. Do you and Julian have him trained to steal jewellery?”

Garak crouched, fighting every urge that told him not to crawl into the small space behind the table. As he stooped, pain spiked through his legs, residual from the skating adventure that had left him sore and bruised. He stuck his head under the table and got a good look at the vent, but he couldn’t bring himself to go further. There was a tiny curl of purple yarn caught on the vent edge, but the feeling of the tiny space closing in on him was instantaneous and he couldn’t stay down there long enough to do anything useful. 

“I’ll see what Odo can do about this,” Sisko offered. “Until we retrieve Edo and the ring, might it be in our best interests to distract Dr. Bashir and the major?”

“Nothing is going to distract Julian, short of a medical emergency,” Jadzia said. 

Garak stood, trying to ignore the spasming of his muscles. He felt about halfway to being a medical emergency, and wouldn’t that have been convenient. Actually, it sounded so convenient that he realized he couldn’t rule it out as a possible course of action. “You two get Edo back,” he instructed, “I’ll take care of Julian.”

“What are you going to do?” Jadzia called after him. He was already halfway across the room again, coming just abreast of Julian at their table before he let out a convincing hiss of pain, stumbling sideways to brace himself. He gripped Julian’s shoulder, his face screwed up into an only partially fabricated grimace. 

“Elim?” Julian twisted to get a look at him. He grabbed Garak’s other arm, trying to steady him. “Elim, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” Garak snapped, pulling away from Julian and stumbling again, in the opposite direction this time. This time Odo caught him, on his way past Garak to where Jadzia was frantically waving at him. How subtle. 

“Are you alright?” Odo asked. 

“Go!” Garak whispered, shoving Odo towards Jadzia. He let out another dramatic noise and tottered forward towards Julian again. Julian lunged, moving to catch Garak before he could crash to the ground. 

“Elim, what happened?” Julian lowered Garak into the now vacant chair. His hands ghosted over Garak in an attempt to locate the injury, then they patted down his own jacket in an attempt to find his tricorder. “Damn, I’ve left my tricorder in the infirmary. Nerys, will you stay with him while I get it?”

Poor Kira didn’t have a chance to refuse before she was being sat next to Garak. Julian was gone and Kira was distracted with Garak. Julian couldn’t have set it up better had he known it was a ruse. 

When Julian returned a few minutes later with his tricorder, Garak seemed to have made a miraculous recovery. If anybody noticed that Odo was missing in the midst of the chaos, they didn’t bother to point it out. 

Quark’s Bar: 2130 hours

“You want me to crawl through the vents in pursuit of Garak and Bashir’s pet lizard?”

When Odo had reached Jadzia, he’d been yanked down to a crouch beside the tables. She had explained the situation quickly while Sisko kept watch. Odo understood the mission, but he certainly didn’t like it. 

“And the ring,” Sisko said over his shoulder. 

“Please Odo?” Jadzia asked. “None of the rest of us will fit, and I promised Garak I’d keep Edo safe. I’m a terrible lizard godparent, though in my defense that’s a new role even after several lifetimes.” 

Odo could hear the hullabaloo that Garak had started up. It was still going on behind him, with Quark rushing to get the suddenly ailing Cardassian a drink of water. With a resigned sigh, he made up his mind. “All right. I’ll do it.”

They both politely averted their eyes when he oozed his way through the vent and into the tunnel system beyond. He hoped that the lizard hadn’t gone far, especially with the amount of voles that could be found in the walls of Deep Space Nine. 

Odo followed the cold metal surface of the vent until he reached a split pathway. He made his choice and followed the left path. He had moved about five meters down it at a slow ooze when the vent around him vibrated. Odo stopped, morphing himself to match the surface of the metal below him. He was glad of the change when something appeared around the corner, stalking its way towards him. 

A hideous vole, all folds of hairless flesh. It was big enough that it barely fit in the narrow vent. Odo suppressed a shudder, holding the form of the hard metal as the vole stomped right over him. It reached the junction and moved back the way Odo had come, heading to Quarks. 

The second it was out of sight, Odo was back to oozing his way down the vent. He was moving quickly now, trying to avoid another encounter. He nearly missed the small opening to his left in his haste to finish searching the vent. He only saw it because it scraped against him as he passed, forcing him to mould himself around it as he went. 

The metal was pried up to reveal a tunneled passageway that went back into the bulkhead. A vole nest, though judging by the state of it, the thing was unused. He was ready to move past when a sound from behind him alerted him to the return of the vole. He squished in through the opening, flattening himself to the wall of the small hole. 

The vole went past much slower this time, sniffing the air. Odo hoped it hadn’t smelled Edo, who must be somewhere in here with them. He watched it closely, ready to fight it if he had to. 

While Odo contemplated his next move, there was a sudden noise from behind him. The hole had evidently not been unoccupied. Odo switched his attention back to the hole he was hiding in, anticipating the sight of another vole. Instead, visible in the now noticeable glow of a fiberoptic sweater were familiar scales, spiky neck ridges, and lazy half lidded eyes. 

Edo was here, and the vole was outside. Odo moved towards Edo, shoving him back into the furthest recesses of the small space. He passed over something hard, something boxlike that could only have been one thing. The ring in its box, sitting there in the hole. Odo picked it up as he moved over it. 

Another object cluttered the small space. Odo felt it over, absorbing its shape. It was a Bajoran earring. Beyond that, slips of latinum, a Federation combadge, a Ferengi tooth sharpener, a packet of sewing needles, an isolinear rod. Countless other small items filled the space. Odo picked up as many of the objects as he could without getting himself stuck in the vent. Finally, he grabbed Edo, just kind of squishing himself around the lizard so that he could pull him out of the vent without injury. 

Odo couldn’t outrun the vole like this, so he just had to hope that it had decided to leave. Or maybe it could be bargained with nicely. Bought off, perhaps, with some of the latinum Edo had stored in the vents. 

He made it back to the junction without incident, but a snuffling around the corner heralded the arrival of trouble. Odo couldn’t do much to hide, so he opted to make himself big instead. The vole rounded the corner, took one look, and bared its teeth up to the gums. 

Before he knew what he was doing, Odo squished over the vole as well. He dragged himself the rest of the way to the vent opening and just sort of schlorped out in an undignified mess. He released his various collected items and pulled himself back up to his usual height with a loud clatter as the objects hit the floor. There was a stifled yell from Sisko as the vole got loose and ran over his feet in its escape. 

Odo handed the lizard to Jadzia. “He’s a thief,” he said, pointing to the pile of objects at his feet. “I’ll need a word with his owners.”

Jadzia grabbed the ring from the pile of stolen goods. “It can wait. I want to get this done before anything else goes wrong.”

Quark’s Bar: 2230 hours

“I can run the scan again, but there’s nothing wrong with you that wasn’t already wrong this morning,” Julian said, finally taking a tired seat across from Garak. “It’s been an hour and your condition hasn’t worsened. You’re complaining of something that can’t be happening, and I’m beginning to suspect you of plotting something.”

“He’s always plotting something,” Miles said. He had wandered over at some point during the whole process and was leaning on the back of the chair that Kira was filling. 

They were all silent for a long moment. Behind the bar, Quark nudged Rom to go make conversation. It was too quiet, quieter than a party had any right to be. 

“So,” Rom said loudly. He set a tray of new drinks down on the bar with a clatter. “How are we enjoying ourselves?”

There was a polite chorus of reassurance from the assembled group, but they fell silent again so Rom blustered over to Bashir in an attempt to keep the energy up. “I saw Edo was wearing his sweater earlier. How do you like it?”

“It’s lovely, thank you,” Julian said. He kicked Garak's leg under the table. 

“It’s wonderful,” Garak agreed. “Julian, my dear, I think you’d better scan me again. I believe a bruised shin will appear on the results this time.”

Jadzia and Sisko had been lurking by the dabo tables for the past hour. They made their way back over to the others now. Jadzia positioned herself in front of the bar, holding Edo in his glowing purple sweater. 

“If I could have everyone’s attention,” she said. Her voice did not need to be raised to carry over the quiet in the bar. “There’s something I need to say.”

Sisko gave her a reassuring thumbs up from across the room. She winked, then turned her full attention to Nerys. “I hope you can forgive me for doing this in front of all our friends. Nerys, will you come here?”

Kira laughed. She stood slowly, making her way over to Jadzia with a bit of a swagger. She had no idea but she was being called up for, but she took her time walking over. She finally came to stop, leaning on the bar beside Jadzia. “What do you need little old me for?”

Jadzia set Edo on the counter top. There was a little parcel tucked into his sweater, and he carried it to Nerys. “Take the box out of his sweater,” Jadzia instructed her.

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.” Nerys lifted the box out of Edo’s hood, weighing it on the palm of her hand. “Ok, don’t open it yet.” Jadzia reached out and grasped Nerys’ hand. 

“What is this, Jadzia?” Nerys asked again. 

“I have a very important question to ask you,” Jadzia said softly. “I have the Captain’s blessing, I’ve asked the prophets. It’s all up to you now. I love you very much. I’ve valued this past year with you so much, and I can’t imagine a future where we’re not together. Kira Nerys, va’aka ey pre ?”

The soft tones of the Bajoran language rolled from Jadzia’s tongue. Nerys’ eyes clouded with tears. She looked down at the box in her hand, opening it to reveal a delicate ring with thin silver filigree and tiny pearls inlaid. “They’re from the depths of the greenest Bajoran sea,” Jadzia whispered. 

“You want me to marry you,” Nerys said, her voice breaking a little on the words.

“I do,” Jadzia said.

“You asked me in Bajoran,” Nerys said, her voice no louder than a breath. She leaned in, pressing her ridged nose to Jadzia’s smooth one. 

“I did.”

“Well, Jadzia Dax. I suppose my answer is a resounding jecken .”

Jadzia pulled away from Nerys so that she could cup her face between her hands, then pulled her in for a kiss. 

“What did she say?” Sisko called. “You’re both whispering!”

Jadzia fumbled the ring out of the box and forced her shaking hands to slip it onto Nerys’ finger. Linking their hands together, she raised their arms together in triumph. “Benjamin, she said yes !”

The cheer that went up in the bar more than made up for the silence that had preceded it. Quark brought them all another round, and they had a toast. “To partnerships,” Sisko said. He raised his glass then brought it to connect with Kasidy’s. “Congratulations, Old Man. And you too, Major. May we all be so fortunate.”

After the toast, the strangest thing happened. It was a New Years party, but everyone seemed to have arrived at a wordless agreement to vacate the bar and leave the newly engaged couple alone with one another. Miles and Keiko left with the intention of putting Molly to bed. Rom cited the same for Nog, and suggested Sisko should make sure Jake was getting enough sleep as well. The boys had protested all the way out the door, but their fathers dragged them off all the same. 

“I need to check the security office. Duty calls,” Odo said apologetically. Dax and Kira didn’t appear to have heard him. He dragged Quark out with him, but not before Garak and Bashir could book a holosuite together to disappear into. 

After the departures, Jadzia and Nerys were left alone. Even Edo was gone, having been collected by his guardians. 

“I’m so glad you said yes,” Jadzia told Nerys. 

“I’m glad I did too,” Nerys said, and then neither of them said anything else for a long time. In the empty bar, they found themselves otherwise occupied, and far too busy for talking. 

Holosuite B: 2300 hours

“I’m glad to see I still possess the capacity to surprise you.” Garak was feeling very gratified at the look on Julian’s face. He had bustled Julian into the holosuite and was enjoying the surprise and delight that now graced the doctor’s face. 

“I’m very happy that you’re willing to give skating another chance,” Julian said. “However, I won’t be surprised unless you can stand it long enough to make any actual progress today.” 

Garak couldn’t entirely suppress the knowing smile that surfaced. He knew something Julian didn’t, and he was very excited to show it off. He passed Edo to Julian, and took a confident step out onto the ice.

Miles O’Brien could blow himself out the airlock. The second Garak’s foot hit the ice, he found himself slipping. Every lesson O’Brien had taught him was useless as Garak landed hard on his behind, aggravating every sore and bruised muscle in his body.

Julian was beside him immediately, choking back laughter so as not to injure Garak’s fragile Cardassian pride. “Are you alright?” he asked. One hand held Edo close to his chest, the other patted up Garak’s leg. “That was quite the fall.”

“I’m fine,” Garak hissed. He rose to his feet gingerly, with enough caution to hopefully avoid taking another fall. 

Julian stood too, maneuvering Garak’s arm around his shoulder again. “Here, there’s no need to move so quickly. We can start where we left off.”

Garak didn’t need to start where he had left off. He hadn’t taken those lessons for nothing, and yet here was Julian supporting Edo with one arm and Garak with the other. Garak shrugged himself free, pulling his arm back. “That won’t be necessary.”

He had to prove himself to his audience. With a shaky movement, Garak pushed forward. He didn’t fall. He pushed again, propelling himself faster. He was skating! He was actually skating. But was Julian watching? Without even stopping to contemplate the possible consequences of such an action, Garak twisted to check– and hit the ice with a thud.

Julian slid to a stop beside him. “You were skating, Garak!” He deposited Edo on the ground so that he could roll Garak over and check him for injuries. “Well, until you fell. But that was impressive, I’d almost believe you were in here practicing.”

“Your lesson earlier seems to have stuck,” Garak simpered, allowing Julian to help him up. He waited until Julian lifted Edo again, then reached out and threaded their fingers together. They pushed off from the ice in unison, skating slowly round the bend of the lake. The manufactured wind played with Garak’s hair, pulling it loose from its usual tidy state. It rippled through Julian’s hair as well and Garak found himself distracted by the movement. It was exhilarating for a moment, the wind, the motion, Julian’s hand in his.

Then Garak’s foot hit an uneven patch of ice and he went crashing to the ground again, pulling Julian down on top of him. They landed hard, or rather, Garak did. Julian was cushioned, and had curled protectively around Edo as they fell. He pushed himself up, checking Edo first, then Garak. “You’re going to be sore in the morning, Elim,” Julian said. He reached out to help Garak up, and froze, arm outstretched. 

“Julian?” Garak asked. It had only been a matter of time before Julian figured it out. He was too clever to be fooled for long. 

“You were in here practicing,” Julian said. His tone was equal parts accusatory and delightedly triumphant. “You snuck in here and practiced skating, and that’s why you were so out of it this morning!” 

Garak still knew something Julian didn’t. He watched his face closely while he spoke the words, enjoying the look of pure shock that manifested itself across Julian’s face. “Chief O’Brien is an effective coach, but I’m afraid he cared more for the learning process than for my comfort.”

“ Miles ?” Julian finally withdrew his hand, leaving Garak to haul himself back onto his feet. “You had Miles in here teaching you to skate? I can’t believe he agreed to that!”

“Everyone has their price,” Garak said. 

“You paid Miles to teach you to skate. I can’t believe this,” Julian repeated. “You couldn’t stand it when I tried to teach you, so you went to Miles? And he agreed?”

“I wanted to surprise you.” Garak reached out an arm, linking it firmly with Julian’s own. “Are you surprised, my dear?”

Julian’s face had gone from triumphant at figuring Garak out, to shocked that Miles had been involved, to vaguely insulted that he hadn’t been the one Garak had asked. Finally it settled into a sort of exasperated fondness. “Yes, you ridiculous man. I’m very surprised.” 

“Good,” Garak said, “I would hate to be predictable.”

They started moving again, skating much slower and leaning into each other for support. As they settled into the rhythmic movement, Garak discovered he could lean sideways just enough to rest his head on Julian’s shoulder. He did so, only lifting it when the computer chimed in and interrupted their blissful moment.

“The time is 2359 hours, 50 seconds,” the computer announced. 

“The new year!” Julian exclaimed, pulling them to a halt. He turned to face Garak, Edo nearly squished between them. 

“T-minus 9 seconds,” the computer announced. 

“8,” Julian said.

“7,” Garak continued.

“6.”

“5.”

“4.”

“3.”

Garak moved to close the remaining space between them as Julian spoke. “2”.

“1,” Garak finished. He pressed flat against Julian. Julian’s free hand gripped the back of his neck, pressing into sensitive scales. Garak surged forward at the touch, kissing Julian with fervour. From his place in Julian’s arms, Edo let out a little squeak, annoyed to find himself anything less than the centre of attention. 

“Happy New Year,” Julian whispered when they broke apart. 

“Happy New Year,” Garak agreed. 

FST: January 1st, New Years Day

The Security Office: 0100 hours

“Another year, come and gone,” Quark said, pulling out of the kiss he had just been engaged in. 

“I know.” Odo sighed. “And what do you have to show for it?”

“Well,” Quark said. “I made some profits, and I did a commendable job following Rule of Acquisition 304.”

“Which,” Odo grumbled, “you still haven’t explained to me.”

“It’s simple, Odo. Rule of Acquisition, number 304: ‘always date the grumpy chief of security’.”

Odo smiled. “Am I to expect every Ferengi on the station to start flinging themselves at me now?”

“No,” Quark said firmly. “That rule, and its subject, are all mine.”

Odo kissed him again, starting the year off the right way. All over the station, couples celebrated in similar fashion. In Holosuite B, across the promenade and up the stairs in Quark’s bar, Julian Bashir and Elim Garak were doing the same.

And in the main part of the bar, a joined Trill and her Bajoran fiancée lovingly welcomed the coming of the new year.