A/N: Hey, everyone, I'm back with another chapter! I'd like to thank MammonDaughter from fanfiction for beta-reading and both s2ka and forevermedhok from Deviantart for drawing illustrations for this story that you can see on that very site. For those of you wondering what happened to Allucia, she had an eye infection that's so bad, she has a hard time beta-reading, but I do thank her for all of the help she's been. So I really hope that she gets better. I'd also like to remind you that, if you recognize it from the Star Trek community, I don't own it.

* * *

Candy walked to the Promenade and went through the door to see workers setting up the, tables, chairs and the Dabo wheel while Quark unpacked his supplies behind the bar. She stopped in front of him. "I see you decided to stay."

"And tomorrow Quark's will be open for business," the barkeep responded back only half-heartedly. "Where you can gamble at the Dabo wheel, drink to your heart's content and enjoy yourself in my holosuite arcade."

"And, maybe tomorrow, you'll sound a bit more enthusiastic," Marino said sardonically.

"You try sounding 'enthusiastic' when someone blackmails you with your nephew's freedom," Quark told Marino as he unpacked. "Assuming you have one."

"Oh, I've got more than one," Marino told him. "And I wouldn't be surprised if they all ended up in jail."

All Quark could do was blink silently at the ensign's nonchalant remark.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're staying," Marino said, perking up. "I was hoping we'd have a chance to talk about the working relationship I had in mind."

It was Quark's turn to perk up as he put the bottles away. "And what working relationship would this be?"

"The platonic one I tried to talk to you about before you blew me off," Marino told him as she rolled her eyes. "And, if you'd think more with your brain and less with your dick or, in your case, lobes, I could tell you what that is."

"All right," Quark said to the ensign, humoring her. "I'm told that you're the one who released my nephew, so I'll hear you out."

Marino put her arms behind her back and stood up straight.

"I've noticed that you've got quite the cantina here," she observed. "You've got the dabo wheel, the holosuites all belong to you and you have a bar." Marino looked around, glancing at each object as she mentioned it, and then drawing attention to the one thing the bar didn't have. "But you don't have a singer."

"Forget it, you know how much it costs to hire a professional?"

"I'd do it for free," Marino offered.

Quark laughed. "Are you serious?"

"All right, I wouldn't exactly call myself a professional, but people tell me I have a beautiful voice," she admitted as she put her arms to her side. "And you'd still have to pay me, but only in information."

"What kind of information?" Quark asked her suspiciously.

"Just anything you know about what's going on in the station," Marino said with a shrug. "Any crimes, important gossip, stuff like that."

"And you'll pay me for it with your voice," the barkeep said, the disbelief evident in his voice. "Taking time out of your Starfleet schedule to help out an honest businessman."

It was Marino's turn to laugh.

"One, find another Starfleet officer to use your 'honest businessman' routine on," she managed to say between laughs before composing herself. "Two, I was thinking that I only perform occasionally, sing just one song and then, when I'm done, I'll advertise a part of your bar."

Quark scanned Marino thoughtfully without any sign of perversion, which was a first for him.

"Look, just give me a trial run," the ensign suggested. "If I don't perform as well as I say I can, the deal's off."

"All right," Quark challenged. "Show me what you've got."

Marino stared at the barkeep as if he'd gone insane. "Right now?"

"You just said you wanted me to give you a trial run."

"Yeah, but I can't perform looking like this."

"Well, what did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking that I perform with my hair down, all made up, wearing a beautiful dress." She said in a dreamlike state. "Preferably tailor-made."

"Then you'll want to see Garak for that," Quark told her. "He's the only tailor on the station."

"And also the only Cardassian."

"I take it you two already met."

"I've seen him around," Marino answered. "Though, I have to admit, I don't really know that much about him."

"I don't know that much about him either," Quark admitted. "I just sometimes order some clothes from him and send customers his way."

"So, he's a business associate."

"Well, I don't know if I'd call him that, but he does buy a few things from me," the barkeep said, perking Marino up. "Don't get too excited, it's only boring tailoring tools."

Marino's face fell. "Nothing of interest," she said out loud and then quickly followed it with. "Has he ever said anything to you that seemed a little strange?"

"He doesn't really frequent my establishment and I don't frequent his," Quark explained and then smiled. "You seem really interested in Garak. Should I set the two of you up?"

"I just find it weird that there's a Cardassian on a Bajoran space station," the ensign told him with a shrug. "Don't you?"

"Honestly, I find him a bit scary."

"Really?" she asked him, intrigued.

"Yeah, and dangerous."

"Why do you think he's dangerous?"

"The way he talks, the way he smiles," Quark admitted. "I can't really explain it. Just trust me when I tell you to keep your distance."

"Don't worry about me, I like a little danger," Marino told him with a smirk.

Quark responded with his own perverted smile. "If that's what you're looking for, I can be a little dangerous myself."

"I'll believe that when I see it," Marino responded, making her way to the door. Before leaving she spared Quark one last look. "By the way, selling Blitz is legal in the Federation."

"Actually, I sell Trinity," Quark told her. "It's the Bajoran version of Blitz, not as good but it gets the job done."

* * *

Marino walked through the corridor, seeing two passing Starfleet officers stop their conversation to give her a disapproving glance. It wasn't long until she found herself at the Tailor Shop, seeing a row of dresses, suits, and other clothing items. Marino immediately headed for the dresses.

"Is there something I can help you with?" a smooth voice asked from behind her.

She turned around to see the same Cardassian from earlier with jet black hair combed back and steel blue eyes that seemed as warm and inviting as his smile. Yet they also seemed to be shielding something, as if he were an actor taught to convey false emotion with his eyes to the point where he became the character. The scales on his forehead formed the shape of a spoon, which might have been how that racial slur came to be. Marino found herself staring at the ridges on his neck, wondering how they would feel if she stroked them.

"Do you see anything that pleases you?" he asked in a pleasant tone, almost seductive.

"Oh," Marino said quickly, breaking out of her stupor. "I've never been this close to a Cardassian male before."

"That's quite all right, my dear," he told her. "This is the closest I've been to a human."

"Then it's a new experience for both of us," Marino stated awkwardly, something that made the Cardassian nod.

"Now, my dear, do you require my services or did you only wish to have your first contact with a Cardassian?"

"It's the first one," Marino told him, backing away from the dresses. "Quark sent me here and I was hoping you could make a dress for me."

"Of course, my dear," the Cardassian, who must be this Garak she heard about, told her in his pleasant voice. "Provided that you don't mind me taking your measurements."

"No, not at all," the ensign told him, standing still as he got out his tailoring kit. "I'm not ashamed of my body."

"And you shouldn't be," Garak told her, opening the case and taking out his measurer. "However, you might want to consider eating a bit more." The tailor indicated towards Candy's underfed figure.

"You think I'm skinny, I oughta show you a picture of Jasmine," she told him as he used the measurer to scan her height.

"Jasmine?" Garak asked Marino in his smooth voice.

"She's my niece, well one of them," Marino said, quickly correcting herself as he moved the measurer to her breasts, or lack of, while she raised her arms up. "The girl's so skinny, you can practically see her bones."

"That does not sound like a pleasing mental image," Garak told Marino as she felt his breath near her ear, taking in his intoxicating scent.

"You got that right," Marino responded, picturing her anorexic niece as Garak used the measurer to scan her thin waist. "Believe it or not, it's quite common where I come from. Someone's not happy with their weight, so they develop an eating disorder."

"And here I thought Earth was a paradise," Garak told her in his silky smooth voice, erasing the image of Jasmine from her mind.

"Well, there's no war or poverty on Earth."

"And yet humans develop eating disorders on this same planet."

"Anyone can develop an eating disorder, no matter where you live Mr..." Marino said, trying to keep an innocent tone while defending her home planet. "I don't think you told me your name."

"Oh, forgive my rudeness," Garak said, moving the measurer to Marino's small hips. "My name is Garak, plain, simple Garak. As you can see, I'm a Cardassian by birth and the only one of my kind left on this station."

"I'm Ensign Candy Marino, a human Italian-American Starfleet officer from Redbank, New Jersey, Earth, and I'm new to this station," she responded in kind.

"Italian-American?"

"It means that I'm an American citizen with Italian ancestry," Marino explained, fidgeting her body a bit. "My mom's ancestors are from Sicily and my Dad's ancestors are from Tuscany."

"Please, stand still, my dear."

"Oh, didn't mean to throw you off," the ensign told him apologetically while watching the Tailor's face for any sign of interest. Surprisingly, he kept his composure. "So, is Garak your first or your last name?"

"Does it really matter, Ensign Marino?"

"I'm just not sure if I should ask you to call me Candy or Marino," she explained, brushing back a loose strand of her hair with a smile on her face.

Garak only answered with a smile as he put his measuring device back in his kit. "Tell me, my dear, is there any particular dress you're looking for?"

"Well, I'll be singing at Quark's as soon as I get it," Marino explained, clasping her pendant as if she was in deep thought.

"Really?" Garak asked her intrigued. "And how did Quark agree to that?"

"I asked him to give me a trial run," Marino told the tailor as she turned to face him. "I plan to only sing one song on occasion and end it by promoting an aspect of Quark's bar." She quickly added. "If you want, I could also tell everyone that you made my dress."

"That's very considerate of you, Ensign but, I assure you, my shop is doing just fine," Garak told her reassuringly.

"How?" Marino asked curiously and then corrected herself. "I don't mean to overstep my bounds, but how can a Tailor Shop run by a Cardassian expect to make a living here." Marino stroked her pendant. "For that matter, why start a Tailor shop on a Bajoran space station?"

"Why, my dear, this is beginning to sound like an interrogation," Garak said with that same charming smile.

"Just my imagination running away with me," Marino explained, showing a slight embarrassment in her voice.

"No need to be embarrassed," Garak told her. "An imaginative mind is the sign of intelligence."

"Really?" Marino asked, not even bothering to hide her flattery. "Then I must be one of the most intelligent minds in the universe."

Garak only responded with a smile. "Why, my dear, I doubt that I would go that far." Marino clenched her fist, fighting back a strong urge to prove him wrong. "However, to answer your question, exile leaves you very few options." Marino tilted her head to show that she was listening. "I had a somewhat successful Tailor Shop on Cardassia. Unfortunately, I exaggerated my success and found myself in serious trouble for tax fraud."

"That's a little harsh," Marino said, feigning sympathy while hoping that Garak couldn't figure out her ignorance.

"I suppose a member of the Federation would see it that way," Garak said to her. "Now, what is it that you're looking for in your dress?"

"I'm not sure," Marino said in deep thought, clasping her pendant once again. "I know I want something elegant, but that's a no-brainer." Then turned to Garak. "What do you think would be best?"

"Well, my dear," Garak said studying her as if she were a muse for an unpainted canvas. "I would suggest something eye-catching with a unique quality." Garak put his hand on her shoulder and looked at her pendant with admiration. "Much like this—"

Marino's mind clouded with panic as she pushed Garak away from her. "Don't touch me!" she shrieked.

For a minute, Garak looked startled but then quickly picked himself back up.

"Looks like this charade is over," Marino admitted with a sigh of relief. "I've got to say, you're good."

"I wouldn't underestimate your talent either."

"So, who are you really?"

"Why, my dear, I'm just a simple tailor making my way in a harsh galaxy," Garak told her, giving his same huge grin as if he was taunting her. "Haven't you already deduced that?"

* * *

Patel found himself near the door of his quarters feeling his muscles ache from the hard labor. He heard guitar playing and a deep female voice singing through the door.

"Under pumpkins' orange lights we both approached as if to greet
Sharing shy smiles we thought then walked on by never again to meet"

Marino sang "bang bang" a few times as Patel walked in and saw Marino strumming her guitar on the couch, her face almost relaxed.

"I can't wipe the smile off my face please be mine."

Marino got up and put her guitar in the case near the wall only for Shere Khan to play with the strings. "No way, I'm not replacing another guitar string because of you again," she told him as she slowly lowered the lid, waiting for Shere Khan to take the hint before shutting it all the way and then setting up the latches as the cat tried to stick his paws in the small gap and tried to open the case.

"Is he going to be okay?" Patel asked.

"He's tried this before," Marino said with a wave of her hand. "He'll get the hint."

"I see you're still playing the guitar," Patel said with a smile. "So, what song was that?"

"Bang Bang by Iwan Rheon," Marino explained, sitting back on the couch and taking a look at the box in the corner with a red and green light, the former lit. "He's an obscure songwriter, so I doubt that you've heard of him."

"No more than you've heard of Graeme Obree."

"He's also a famous actor from the 21st Century, played Ramsey Snow on Game of Thrones," Marino said as if Patel hadn't said anything. "The holo-program even uses his likeness and, let me tell you, he's really gorgeous."

"Graeme Obree?" Patel said confused, remembering Ramsay Snow's look was nothing like the famous and yet obscure athlete he mentioned.

"No, Iwan Rheon," Marino told him as if it were obvious.

"I'm not really interested in megalomaniacs who love to skin people alive."

"Neither am I," Marino told him. "But I'd love to go back in time and meet him in a bar." Marino's face and voice went into a dreamlike state. "I order a drink and he sits next to me, impressed that I'm not fawning over him. We talk music, then one thing leads to another and—"

"Candy, I get that you're a grown woman and you have needs, but I don't want to hear about them."

"You're such a prude," Marino told him as she glanced at the box.

"Beats being a sex addict," Patel replied in a joking tone as the green light on the box lit up.

"Finally," Marino said with exasperation as vapor left the box.

"Is that Blitz?!" Patel asked, recognizing the scent as he accidentally inhaled the vapors.

Marino inhaled the vapors. "You expect me to eat a Blitz infused cookie every night?" she said giggling. "If I did that, I'd be fatter than Jabba the Hutt."

Patel felt his heart pound as his head become lighter. "You could stand to gain some weight," he told the ensign as he felt this huge wave of apathy rush over him.

This only made Marino giggle harder. "That is the exact same thing Garak told me when he was measuring me for a dress."

"Who's Garak?" Patel asked, taking the seat on the couch next to Candy.

"He's the Cardassian tailor... or spy," Marino told him. "I haven't figured it out yet."

"You managed to figure out what room I was going to by the sound of my footsteps," Patel pointed out, slumping in the chair. "You knew I was going to contact my sister and I didn't even have to tell you."

"That's nothing," Marino responded. "I figured out that our barkeep does shady business behind the scenes and it only took me one look around the Constable's office to figure out his deal." She inhaled the fume that surrounded them. "This Garak is another matter."

"How?"

"I can't get an accurate reading on him," Marino admitted. "Tried talking to the guy today, but all he'd tell me is that he's a simple tailor who got exiled for lying about his shop when paying for..." She stroked her pendant. "What did he call it, texes? No, that's a southern US state. Toxes... that's not even a word."

"You sure he didn't mean taxes?" Patel asked, inhaling the fumes.

Marino snapped her fingers. "Yeah, that's right, taxes," she said and then frowned. "What are taxes?"

Patel couldn't help but guffaw. "You don't know what taxes are?"

Marino only shook her head.

"It's the money we had to pay to the government year-round," Patel explained, remembering his Middle School history lesson. "It's from back in the days when Earth used money."

"Doesn't explain why someone would lie on them."

"Can I see that PADD?" Patel asked, pointing to the Cardassian PADD on the end table.

Marino reached her hand for the PADD only to activate a small sinister clown hologram dressed more like a Victorian Era jester, causing Patel to jump up from the couch. "We alllll float down here," the mini-hologram said with a sinister smile.

"Oops," Marino muttered before bursting into giggles as the clown laughed maniacally.

Shere Khan quickly lost interest in the guitar case and jumped on the end table, hissing at the menacing hologram while swatting it with his paws. This only made Marino laugh harder as Patel settled back on the couch, joining in the laughter. The ensign finally turned the frightening hologram off.

"It's all right, Shere Khan," Marino said, petting the cat. "It's just your momma's hologram, no one's in danger."

Shere Khan jumped on Marino's lap and curled into a ball.

"What the fuck was that thing?" Patel asked, recovering from the slight shock.

"That's the second version of Pennywise the Dancing Clown from Stephen King's IT," Marino explained as she petted Shere Khan. "The clown that lived in the sewers of Derry, Maine and ate children?"

"I know who he is," Patel told her. "I just wanted to know why you have a mini-hologram of him in the living room."

"Yeah, pretty freaky, huh?" Marino said giggling. "I was thinking about putting it in Constable Odo's office."

"Why?" Patel asked.

"Because his office is sooo boring," Marino complained. "I wanted to help him spice it up a bit."

"Well, unless your goal is to alienate your new boss, don't put that in his office," Patel advised her.

Marino giggled. "You've got a point. Odo's a shapeshifter and Pennywise is a shapeshifting clown, so that might be offensive."

"Our Constable's a shapeshifter?" Patel asked, his brain feeling even more light-headed as he inhaled the fumes.

"Yeah, and humanoid isn't even his true form," Marino told him absentmindedly.

"What is his true form?"

"He turns into liquid and rests in a bucket," Marino said as she petted the cat with a dazed look in her eyes. "Anyway, what was I getting?"

"I don't remember, what were we talking about?" Patel asked, every bit as confused as Marino.

"Something about the Cardassian tailor and this thing called taxes," Marino said, petting Shere Khan. "Oh, now I remember."

Marino grabbed the Cardassian PADD on the end table and handed it to Patel. Who took the PADD and looked at it only to discover everything written in Cardassian.

"Did you turn off the translator?" Patel asked.

"I never had it on," Marino answered, petting a satisfied Shere Khan.

"Don't tell me you can read Cardassian," Patel joked with a smile.

"Just another one of my many talents," Marino said proudly as she took the PADD away from Chris.

"Apparently, one of them isn't modesty."

"If you got it, flaunt it," Marino said proudly, typing into the PADD.

"Well, you've definitely got it," Patel said appreciatively, catching Marino a bit off-guard. "But I'm sure you've got plenty of people telling you that."

"Actually, you're the first," Marino told him. "People usually tell me to shut the fuck up."

"Rest assured, you'll never hear that from me," Patel told her, making Marino feel a bit more off guard.

After a few minutes of silence, Marino finally spoke. "I managed to find something about cheating on taxes."

"What does it say?"

"Something about people trying to get more latinum on their tax refunds, or having to pay less," Marino said groggily, putting the PADD on the end table. "It's kind of long, so I don't want to read the whole thing right now."

"You said that this Garak got exiled for it."

"Yeah, and I already told you that I suspect that he's lying," Marino said. "Or he might not be telling me the whole truth."

"Or he might just be a common tailor and he's putting on an act to impress you," Patel suggested in an amused tone. "Like how your brother, Ken, once told a woman he was the long lost son of Captain Picard."

"First of all, he's my half-brother," Marino told Patel. "Second of all, if that were the case, I would've picked up on that when I first met him."

"Speaking of Ken, how's he doing?"

"He's on a Federation planet I've never heard of, mooching off of his third wife and I hope this one's stupid enough to keep him," Marino said bitterly and then added nonchalantly. "Oh, and he's also a registered sex offender."

Patel guffawed until he noticed that Marino wasn't laughing. "You're serious?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds," Marino told him reassuringly. "Ken picked up a sixteen-year-old girl at a club with a fake ID. Cost him his second marriage." Marino petted Shere Khan in contemplation. "No, his second wife divorced him after he left their kid in the school pick up lawn until 2300 hours. Was it another one of his broken engagements?"

"What about your sister, Tanya?"

"She's married to Josh," Marino told him nonchalantly. "Your former Parrisee Squares captain."

"I'm sorry to hear," Patel said sympathetically. "I know you had a huge crush on him."

Marino didn't even bother holding back her laughter.

"Was it something I said?"

It took a few minutes for Marino to finally get a hold of herself. "I got over that crush eons ago."

"Glad to hear," Patel told her with genuine happiness. "I never really cared much for that guy."

"You couldn't tell me this when we were in high school?" Marino asked jokingly, though it sounded somewhat serious to Patel.

"So, how is Josh?" Patel asked her in a desperate attempt to change the subject. "Did his dream about playing Parrisee Squares professionally come true?"

"Hardly, he wasn't good enough to qualify and he had to marry Tanya because he knocked her up," Marino said as if it were a funny joke. "Now he works as a waiter and spends most of his time bitching and moaning about being a has-been married to the Evil Queen."

Patel chuckled. "I forgot that we used to call her that."

"We're still calling her that," Marino informed him. "They've also got two kids, Jasmine and Dean. Jasmine looks like a walking skeleton thanks to Tanya hassling her about her weight. Dean's on drugs for ADD, which I'm still convinced is just Tanya trying to get out of actual parenting."

"What about your parents?"

"They're divorced. My mom's still in our house on Earth," Marino told him. "She teaches high school science and writes in her spare time." The ensign continued petting Shere Khan. "My dad left when I was fifteen. He captains a freighter now."

"So, he left Earth shortly before you did."

For a minute, Marino almost looked depressed. Then she pet Shere Khan and the look disappeared.

"How about your family?" she asked him and then answered for him. "No, let me guess. Your mom and dad still got their high-status Federation jobs. Your dad's still cheating on your mom, who drowns her sorrows in wine. Your sister's studying abroad in Andoria and you got dumped."

"How did you know all that?"

"It's simple," Marino said as if a three-year-old could figure it out. "When you walked in here, your eyes looked like you were wiping away tears and your nose looked stuffed. You also got this worried look on your face when I mentioned Cathy. So, she must be studying somewhere dangerous and, considering her interests in alien-animal life, it's not hard to believe the place would be Andoria. Your mom and dad only married each other for status, but your dad can't help sleeping around. I also remember your mom drinking something that looked like a funny grape juice, which I now know is wine."

"Right on all counts," Patel said, feeling his own depression seep through and then perking up. "Well, I just talked to Cathy. She's got a kind of sort of not really Andorian boyfriend now." This made Marino chuckle. "I also managed to find some medical notes written by Crell Moset and I think I'm making friends with Major Kira Nerys."

"Yeah, don't really know who Crell Moset is."

"He's a Cardassian doctor famous among Federation circles," Patel explained. "He set up a dozen hospitals on Bajor and cured the Fostossa virus."

"I'm guessing he infected a dozen of Bajorans to find it," Marino said with an almost frightening nonchalance as she petted Shere Khan.

"And how would you know that?" Patel asked her curiously.

"Wouldn't be the first time a doctor in power got medical info through torture," Marino said with a shrug. "I know that's how many Nazi doctors got their info."

"If you're talking about Mengele, his notes were thrown away," Patel pointed out, remembering his lessons from Starfleet Medical. "But he wasn't the only one who experimented on patients."

"And the Cardassian doctors probably did the same, including this Crell Moset," Marino told him. "I'd bet my necklace on it."

Patel chuckled. "A few minutes you didn't know who Crell Moset was and now you're an expert?"

"I never said I was an expert," Marino corrected. "I'm just speculating, though I really would like to learn more about this guy. Maybe our tailor knows him."

"Yeah, because all Cardassians know each other," Patel said with a chuckle. "How about Kira?"

"I don't think bringing up a Cardassian who might have experimented on Kira's people is going to win me any points with her," Marino pointed out. "Though you could ask."

Patel laughed. "There is no way in hell I'm making an enemy out of Major Kira," he told her as he got up from the couch. "I'd better get to bed, it's going to be a long day tomorrow."

Patel was about to enter his room until Marino spoke. "Now I remember. Ken was dating a woman he was about to propose to when he got registered." The ensign started laughing. "Needless to say, she dumped him before he could."

"I don't blame her," Patel said and then went to his room.

* * *

A/N: So, what did you think? I'm sorry if the last scene was offensive andI never intended to make light of a historical tragedy. However, Marino is sociopathic and would makelight of these things. Patel is alsohigh and isn't fully comprehending what they're talking about. Also, that song Marino was singing was anactual song by Game of Thrones actor, Iwan Rheon. Be sure to check it out on Youtube! Graeme Obree is also a real guy I found whenI was looking up obscure athletes. Asfor Quark and Garak's arrangement, I read that they had it in A Stitch inTime. Great book, you should reallycheck it out. Anyway, please reviewbecause that keeps me motivated. If youwant your character to have a cameo, feel free to PM me about it. I'm also open to RPing if you're interested.