Archive of Our Own ^beta

Weyoun returns to his room after meeting with Damar for the night, and he is more than ready to turn in, his legs trembling underneath him. He feels good to return to his quarters, to his things. He steps gingerly through a bundle of blankets and pillows on the floor he likes to rest on sometimes and go thru PADDS of almost aimless research materials. When he gets to the bed he falls into it, shedding his clothes and tossing them carelessly to the floor to be replicated later.

The cool air of his quarters is a welcome contrast to the damp, dark heat of Damar's quarters. He can still feel the ghosts of Damar's hands and mouth on his skin. Despite the need for a cleansing bath, he hesitates, feeling no immediate desire to wash away the traces of their coupling. But The Voice Of The Link is very adamant about good Vorta hygiene, especially after he's bedded someone.

As his gaze wanders around the room, his eyes fall on the little, what was it called.... nesting doll, on his nightstand, and he looks at it unblinkingly for a while, thinking of how much she is like him. He reaches out and opens it and pulls the doll from inside of it. His last. " Unfortunate accident ". Then another. The last before that. " Lack of faith ". He goes on and on until he reaches the middle, his progenitor. He muses on it all. He is all of them. But they aren't him .

He blinks and takes in the image of them all, lined up from biggest to smallest. What would it be like to meet himself? To have another Weyoun exist alongside him? He smirks at the thought of it happening unbeknownst to Damar, and how fun it could be to come to him at night as two Weyouns.. Damar would certainly drop to the floor. He snorts and places the dolls back inside themselves and stashes her away in his crowded drawer. He will have to address the disarray of his quarters sometime, but not tonight. And he really will have to bathe...

But maybe not tonight.