Chapter Text
“I wish you hadn’t arrested him,” Quark said wistfully as he watched two of Odo’s security team escort a tranquilized customer out of the bar. “Gumiro was so bad at dabo.”
“He’s a mercenary and a thief,” Odo grunted, sliding into a seat at the bar. “And I doubt the only reason you’re sorry to see him go is because he was ‘bad at dabo.’”
Quark raised his hands and shrugged. “Did I interfere?”
“What is that?” Odo was immediately distracted by the object Quark had in one hand. No doubt he thought it was some sort of exotic contraband.
Quark held it up. “I have no idea. A merchant gave it to me after I paid her for a shipment. Of legal goods,” he added, flashing Odo a knowing look. “She said it was a gift, but it looks pretty worthless to me.” He turned back to the trinket. Or was it more accurately described as a sculpture? Maybe a paperweight? It was roughly the shape of two spinning tops connected at the stem, and a dark matte color all over, yet the surface seemed slightly luminous. The size was such that Quark could fit one end comfortably in each hand.
“I should inspect it,” muttered Odo. “It could be some sort of surveillance device.”
“Suit yourself. I can’t imagine who I’d sell it to anyway.” Odo squinted a little in surprise at Quark’s lack of resistance, and Quark smiled smugly at catching Odo off guard. Gripping one end of the trinket, Quark held out the other end for Odo to grasp.
Odo wrapped his fingers around the other end, and that’s when the trouble started. They both froze, and Quark felt an odd sensation, like he was being pulled inside of the object. For a millionth of a second, all sense of having a physical body seemed to vanish. Then his awareness faded entirely.
When Odo came to, he was slumped over the bar. He pushed himself up, and something immediately felt wrong. His vision had gone slightly fuzzy; meanwhile, all sound in the bar now seemed almost painfully loud. One of his boots was pinching in the front—
His boots?
“…Seems to have lost his shape,” Bashir was saying from somewhere on the floor. Odo squinted over the bar to see Kira and Bashir kneeling over what looked like…
Oh, no.
Kira must have heard his movement, because she stood up and gave him a look that could sour milk. “Quark! What happened here?”
“I’m not Quark,” said Odo. Kira raised her eyebrows at him exasperatedly, but they slowly furrowed when Odo continued to stare at her.
“…Odo?”
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” said Dax as she scanned the instrument of what Odo could only imagine must be some cruel joke played on him by the universe. “Where did Quark get it?”
“He said it was a gift from a merchant, but he didn’t mention a name, or even a species,” said Odo. He had made his way out from behind the bar, and was staring in dull shock at his body, as it were. He supposed he should be glad that Quark was apparently unable to shapeshift—Quark with access to shapeshifting abilities would certainly be trouble—but he still disliked allowing humanoids to get a good look at his natural form, and now it was spread out on the floor of Quark’s bar like so much spilled synthehol.
“Give me that device,” he said to Dax suddenly, who placed it pointedly on the bar before letting Odo touch it. Odo quickly picked it up and tried touching it the Quark puddle, hoping for a repeat of whatever had just occurred. Nothing happened.
“That’s one solution ruled out, anyway,” Kira noted. Odo set the device on the bar again in defeat. Dax went back to scanning it with interest.
“Well, we need to get Quark off the floor,” said Bashir. “I might be able to run some tests and figure out what exactly happened, but I’ve got to get you both to the infirmary.”
Odo sighed. “I’ll try to get him into a bucket,” he said, returning to the bar to replicate a clean container. “Alright, Quark,” he said with as much resigned irritation as he could muster, kneeling to address the puddle of Quark and placing the bucket in front of him. “Now you’ll get to see what it’s like to sleep in a bucket.” He was already starting to dislike the sound of Quark’s voice speaking his words.
Quark didn’t move. An awkward silence descended over the three remaining humanoid forms. “Come on,” Odo grunted. “I could manage simple locomotion very soon after I was discovered. The sooner you get in this bucket, the sooner we can put things right.” Quark probably wouldn’t be able to perceive anything he was saying, but he should be able to sense Odo’s presence, and the presence of the bucket.
“It would help if he could tell us who gave this to him,” said Dax, examining her tricorder readings. “Then maybe we could contact the merchant and ask how to reverse whatever happened.” Quark was still motionless. Odo let out a hiss of frustration, then practically recoiled from himself. Quark’s voice was bad enough; Odo didn’t know if he could stand making involuntary Ferengi vocalizations.
“Fine, Quark,” he muttered. “We can do this the hard way.” Odo’s natural form was not adhesive, and it would not stick to the floor of the bar—he would just have to sort of… scoop Quark into the bucket. Humiliating, but doable. He plunged Quark’s hands into the gel—
--and was immediately overcome with waves of terror, confusion, and just a little bit of whining indignation. Odo gasped and felt Quark’s body convulse slightly.
Somehow, they had formed a rudimentary link through physical contact. He had sometimes been able to link with solids before, but this was stronger—maybe because Odo’s thought patterns were still changeling patterns, even if he was currently in a solid body. He couldn’t help whimpering a little, he was so relieved—wait, no, that was Quark who was relieved—
Odo Odo Odo Odo, Quark babbled, flooding the link with question marks.
Ignoring Bashir’s worried reach for his tricorder, Odo screwed Quark’s eyes shut and tried to return something through the link. It’s alright, he soothed. I’m here. Quark’s consciousness stopped vibrating in fear and slowed to an indignant jiggle.
Now would you please get in that bucket? He tried to communicate the knowledge of how to do so as best he could. Slowly, Quark trickled into the bucket. Odo opened Quark’s eyes and pulled his hands out of the gel.
“What did you do?” asked Dax, fascinated.
“It appears we can form a basic empathic link,” Odo explained, getting to his feet and picking up the bucket. He suppressed a grunt of effort; the bucket was rather heavy with the Quark-Odo-goo inside of it, and Quark’s body wasn’t exactly athletic. “Not enough of a link for him to tell me who that merchant was, but enough for me to tell him how to get in the bucket.”
“Maybe if you teach him to shapeshift into humanoid form, we can get him to tell us the name of the merchant,” Kira suggested.
“In the meantime, I’m taking you both to the infirmary,” Bashir said firmly.
“I’m reading unusual fluctuations on the quantum level, and of course the brain scans I did on—“ Bashir coughed—“um, Odo, are a little different from my records of Quark’s baseline. But otherwise, everything’s showing up normal.”
“You’re saying you don’t know how to change us back?” Odo clarified, resenting the way Quark’s feet failed to reach the floor from the bed. Quark was in the bucket a few feet away, oozing silently beneath an array of scanning equipment.
“We just need time, that’s all,” said Dax, smiling serenely. She looked to be enjoying herself far too much, in Odo’s opinion. “Quantum fluctuations are always promising,” she quipped.
“This is completely unacceptable,” Odo complained. “I have duties to perform--”
“I’d strongly advise you to reduce your duties as Chief of Security to paperwork for the time being,” said Bashir, already looking at something on his monitor with interest. “It’s not really fair to put Quark’s physical health at risk.”
Odo reluctantly agreed. It was doubtful he could use Quark’s form for combat purposes at all, even taking into account the techniques he had learned the last time he was solid. Quark’s body was small and slightly pudgy, with no muscle tone speak of. And he was not at all intimidating, which Odo had found was a rather important quality to have in law enforcement.
He nearly groaned aloud when he realized he would have to take a detour to Quark’s quarters to pick up Ferengi-sized clothing. And that he was already experiencing the unpleasantly familiar sensation of hunger. “Doctor, is there some sort of nutritional supplement I could take as long as I’m in this form? I have no desire to try eating insects.”
“Sure, I can get you something for that.” Bashir turned and gave him an amused look. “But you shouldn’t discount the insects so quickly. I’ve tried Terran grubs, and they aren’t so bad.”
Kira wrinkled her nose at Bashir, then turned to Odo. “I’ll make sure to get the message out that Quark isn’t quite who he appears to be,” Kira offered, “minimize the awkward conversations.”
“Thank you, Nerys,” said Odo gratefully. Kira smiled at him, though it became slightly strained when they made eye contact. She patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. Quark’s shoulder, Odo thought uncomfortably.
“I’d better get Sisko up to speed,” she said, and took her leave. Odo made a calculated hop off the cot and clasped Quark’s hands behind his back.
“If it makes no difference to either of you,” he said, “I’d better start… making arrangements.”
“Go on,” said Dax cheerfully, “I’ll keep working on a way to turn you both back, don’t worry.” She bounced off in the direction of the lab, the clasped hands behind her back barely concealing her glee.
“Come back tomorrow morning when you can, alright?” said Bashir. “We’ll run a few more tests and see if you can’t get Quark to shapeshift.”
Trying not to think too hard about the idea of Quark with access to shapeshifting abilities, Odo exited the infirmary.