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Molly is young enough that she can get away with asking inappropriate questions if she asks them right. When she pitches her voice up, and opens her eyes wide, and asks in simple words, she isn’t rude or nosy – she’s just a little kid who doesn’t know better. However, it’s not a trick that will work forever. At 7 years and 6 months, she’s gotten ‘Molly, you know better’ twice, so she figures she has about another year before she has to give it up entirely.
Although she can probably stretch it to 10 with people she doesn’t know, especially if they’re the sort of people who aren’t familiar with human rates of development and categorize everyone under thirteen as a nebulous ‘child’.
The important thing is to use the power sparingly and for good – to help people by making them state the obvious, to make rude people feel bad, to find out things adults would rather she not know, and when it’s really, really funny.
Tonight, she will be using it for the first reason – although it will also be very funny.
Family dinner is a Big Deal in the O’Brien household. They have it once a week, even if Daddy has only just narrowly avoided being, or is recovering from being, infected, disintegrated, cloned, temporally displaced, or sucked into an alternate dimension.
Sometimes Uncle Julian joins them, because he doesn’t have a family – no family worth having, Mommy mutters – and he and Daddy have been through so much together he’s as good as family.
Molly likes Dr Bashir. He only sometimes talks to her like she’s an idiot, and when they tease each other he never gets all ‘respect me, I’m an adult’ even when she zings him one.
Tonight, however, is special. Tonight, Uncle Julian will be bringing a guest: his ‘special friend’ Elim Garak. Molly know that means he’s Uncle Julian’s boyfriend, and that no one wants to actually use that word. This is because they’re being grown-up weird about dating (Uncle Julian) or don’t like they’re dating at all (“After everything, fooling around with a damn Cardie—!” “Miles!”).
“…and this is Molly.”
Molly stands up very straight and speaks clearly.
“Hello Mr. Garak my name is Molly O’Brien and it’s nice to meet you.” She says it all in one go, rote repetition, a little girl being so grown up. Garak smiles.
“It’s nice to meet you, too, Molly O’Brien. But please, there’s no need for the Mister. I’m just—”
“Plain, simple Garak,” Julian says with him, and they smile at each other. Molly sees Daddy scrunch up his nose in disgust.
Dinner is perfectly fine and normal, except Mommy is kicking Daddy under the table every now and again. Molly can’t decide if she likes Garak or not. He’s interesting and clever, and he clearly makes Uncle Julian happy. But he says everything like he knows a secret he’s not telling you, and Molly hates not knowing secrets.
(Which isn’t to say she doesn’t like secrets. She just doesn’t like not being the one who knows them.)
Molly waits for a suitable lull in the conversation before she turns to Garak and says,
“Do Cardassians get married?”
Daddy chokes slightly on his drink. Everyone turns to stare at Molly. She keeps her eyes on Garak and her expression one of simple curiosity.
“What brought this up?” Mommy asks, bewildered. Good. She hasn’t caught on.
“I was talking to my friend Powl. He has two daddies and two mommies, but when I asked if they were married he didn’t know what that meant, and when I told him, he said they don’t do that on his planet. So I was wondering who else doesn’t do it.” She turns back to Garak. “I asked Uncle Julian but he said he didn’t know.”
Garak’s brows shoot up very high. Uncle Julian points a finger at her.
“That is not what I said.” To Garak, “I said it had never come up in conversation.” To Molly, “That is not the same thing.”
“Cardassians do get married,” Garak confirms. “The rules are much the same as with humans, although the ceremonies are different.”
“And do you do it because you love each other? Powl said his mommies and daddies signed up to have a baby and got put together because they were the most compable.”
“Compatible,” Mommy says, automatically, sounding the word out. Obediently, Molly repeats it, as if she is not seven and a half and can handle four syllable words. It’s a bit of a risk, because Mommy knows she should be able to say big words, but Mommy is busy keeping an eye on Daddy, who is getting red in the face and eyeing Garak suspiciously.
Uncle Julian is also going red in the face, but for different reasons.
“Where is Powl from, where there are government assigned partners?” he asks, pretending to be very interested.
“Amajin, on Cecenis 3,” Molly says.
“Cecians are an aromantic species,” Mommy says, equally eager to turn the conversation in this new direction. “Amajins believe four is the minimum number of parents for any child, so if an individual wants children but doesn’t have a close bond with enough people to make a full group, they can petition the government to be assigned additional partners. There’s an entire organizational branch dedicated to determining compatibility for the highest chance of success—”
“But Cardassians aren’t like that, right?” Molly asks, grabbing the reins once more. Garak tips his head slightly to the side and looks upwards as he chooses his words.
“There are political marriages,” he says, “but those are more common in families of high status, particularly those with wealth and power. Statistically, most Cardassians do marry out of affection.”
Molly nods and drops the bomb.
“So are you and Uncle Julian going to get married?”
“What?” Daddy explodes. Mommy kicks him under the table so hard he yelps. Uncle Julian drops his fork and buries his face in his hands. Garak’s eyes go wide and he goes very still.
It is, as Molly predicted, extremely funny.
“It hasn’t come up in conversation,” Garak says, his voice uncharacteristically vague. Molly takes a big bite of her steak and talks with her mouth full to emphasize her childlike ignorance.
“You and Uncle Julian have been dating for forever,” she says. Uncle Julian drops his hands.
“A year and half is not forever!” he says, almost in a wail.
“Is too!” Molly protests. “Anyway, isn’t that the whole point? You date so you can find someone you want to get married to. Otherwise why bother?”
“An interesting question,” Garak murmurs, causing a look of sheer panic to flash over Uncle Julian’s face.
“Marriage is a big commitment,” Daddy says, hand very tight around his knife and fork and glaring daggers at Garak. “And not something one rushes into without extremely careful consideration. Nobody wants to make mistake about that.”
Garak looks at Daddy and his expression takes some evaluating before Molly can figure it out. It’s sort of mild, a little surprised, but there’s a tenseness underneath, stern and hard.
“I assure you, Chief O’Brien, I never rush into anything. Certainly not something so important.”
“Yes!” Uncle Julian blurts out, relieved. “Yes, absolutely, it’s a very big decision and not one we—I mean, anyone would do without, without being very sure and taking a lot of time to think about making mistakes—I mean not making mistakes. I mean—not that it would be a mistake definitely, but people need to be careful—I mean—”
This time, Garak’s expression is unreadable to Molly, but it doesn’t look like a happy one.
“Yes, Doctor,” he says, his voice dry and slightly clipped, “I think we all understand exactly what you are trying to say.”
Uncle Julian looks more panicked.
“I just—you know, being cautious—”
“Does anyone want dessert?” Mommy asks, smiling brightly and frantically. It doesn’t work.
“You’ve never struck me as an overly cautious man before, Doctor,” Garak says.
“I think Julian is being quite intelligent about the matter, actually,” Daddy says.
“And you have plenty to say about the matter, Chief O’Brien, I am sure,” Garak snipes back.
“Yes, thank you, Miles,” Uncle Julian grits out.
Time to defuse the situation.
“I think you should get married. Then I can be a flower girl at your wedding, and Garak can make me a dress!”
Everyone stops.
“…what?” Mommy says.
“Uncle Julian said Garak was a tailor and he makes pretty clothes. I’ve never had a dress made for me before.”
The wave of relief that spreads across the table is visible. Everyone shares smiles that they think go right over Molly’s head. Of course! She’s not casting judgements over their relationship or asking uncomfortable questions about what they should do with their lives! She’s just misunderstood the path required to get to a simple, silly, childish desire.
“You don’t have to be a flower girl to get a dress made for you,” Mommy says, her eyes shining with very grown-up laughter.
“I thought it was for special occasions,” Molly protests, brow furrowing in confusion. “All the books I read people only get dresses made for them if they’re getting married. Or princesses,” she adds, getting slightly distracted running through those books in her mind, in case someone asks which ones she was reading.
“Sometimes,” Garak says, “but not always. I would be more than happy to make you a dress any time you like. On the house, as you humans say,” he adds when Daddy opens his mouth. Daddy closes his mouth, but he does not look very happy.
Molly beams and bounces in her seat. The conversation shifts to her favorite colors and what kinds of dresses she likes, and then to stories about Garak’s more foolish customers, the ones who ignored his expert advice and ended up with monstrosities of fashion.
The night continues, everyone more cheerful than before now that they have avoided a full dramatic blow up, but it’s different. Molly does not miss the way Garak and Uncle Julian glance at each other, the way Garak drinks in tight little sips and Uncle Julian focuses a lot on his plate. They still smile at each other, and tease like they did before, but something has changed. They will definitely be having A Grown-Up Conversation when they get home.
When it’s time to go, the grown-ups linger at the door interminably, as they always do, but Molly is made patient by her success. She is confident that within the month, Daddy will come home raving about “that slimy, backstabbing lizard” finally getting his claws into Uncle Julian for good.
Molly glances over at said slimy backstabbing lizard, and realizes he’s looking at her.
He is looking at her the way grown ups look at each other and he is seeing not a child, but a person, and he knows. She’s not sure if he knew at the time, but right now, he knows exactly what she just did, and that she did it on purpose.
He smiles at her, that same secretive smile, but this time it’s of a secret shared.
“It was very nice to meet you, Molly,” he says. “You’re a very clever girl. Perhaps you should consider a future career in politics. Or espionage,” he adds, lightly.
Daddy waits until the door is closed to ask “What was that about?”
“I’m sure he meant it as a compliment,” Mommy says.
Molly helps clean up and then she quietly goes and looks up the definition of espionage. She didn’t know you could make a job out of finding out people’s secrets. It sounds very exciting.
Maybe Uncle Garak will teach her.