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Quark knows that people whisper about his… whatever it is, with Odo.
It irritates him. Especially how often it goes on in his bar. They should have more respect for the proprietor! (They would on Ferenginar.)
Still, he puts his lobes to good use and listens in. Because frankly, he’s not really sure what is going on between them either.
He hates the man, doesn’t he? And it’s mutual.
And yet, he can’t mistake the thrill that goes through him whenever he gets a new chance to bicker with his enemy.
And he’s pretty sure that’s mutual, too.
The last time Dax was in here, Odo had just stormed off in a huff, after an argument about Quark’s newest scheme (“they will pay up in latinum just for a certificate that says they own these images!” Odo had insisted that was fraud, and not permitted). Dax had given him a knowing look and a laugh.
“What?”
“Don’t you think you should do something about it?”
About what?
They’re perfectly happy with things the way they are.
And that’s what he’d told her.
If he dreams about, plans out his next arguments with his favorite adversary, no one needs to know.