DS9 fanfic and good news
Jan. 1st, 2004 06:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
selenak2003 ended stylishly for me, with a concert (Beethoven’s 9th), a dinner in a restaurant overlooking our local river, and hence a magnificent view of the fireworks. Little time today for the net, mostly because I’m returning to Munich tomorrow, but I was happy to see the DS9 drabble community founded by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hobsonphile, Celestial Temple, opened for business and tried my hands on some drabbles to meet the first challenge, which was about the four elements. My first attempt at the fine art of writing drabbles. And one Quark, son of Keldar.
Title: Elements
Author: Selena
Rating: PG 13, I think
Character: Quark.
Pairing(s): Reflections on Quark/Jadzia, Quark/Grilka, Quark/Natima and Quark/Pel.
Summary: Four drabbles to meet the “Four Elements” challenge.
Disclaimer: All owned by Paramount.
I.
It says something about the climate on Ferenginar that the Ferengi have more words for rain than for profit. Quark isn’t sure what it says about humans that they only use the one term, so banal: Rain. Because rain makes him think of Jadzia, always. It’s how he explains the whole Trill thing to himself: each incarnation is different, yet the same.
He could hear the waterdrops pouring down on Risa create the distinct impression of a epetu going on when he told her, not for the first time, that what she needed was a Ferengi. “Maybe,” she replied, and then went on to declare her desire for The Walking Frown.
That is something else the Ferengi know about rain: it sustains you or punishes you. You never know which.
II.
His whole body still felt as if it was on fire when Grilka left the station, despite Bashir’s administrations. Scratches, bitemarks, burning lungs and cracked ribs that refused to tell his nerves they had been restored. And yet it had been worth it.
Quark supposed he couldn’t really blame Dax for her attraction to Klingons, endless boring talk about honour and suicidal thirst for blood notwithstanding. They were shiny, dangerous things, Klingons, flames that you inevitably burned your fingers on when touching them for too long. But the heat was exhilarating.
III.
Adding the illusion of wind to a holosuite programm almost doubles the expense. A slight breeze that carries distinct smells makes it a luxury only few of Quark’s customers can afford. He did sell the programm for a tidy profit to some people supposedly in the Orion syndicate, but it was originally created for Natima, and Quark had made Rom work almost a week on it, without payment, of course.
Sitting with Natima on a hill, seeing her relax in what the magic of the holosuite had changed from filtered, artificial air to the spicy breeze reportedly blowing on one of the few remaining Hebedian sites on Cardassia, remains one of his favourite memories. Putting a butterfly, a human insect Rom had put in for a surprise variation, on her nose. Natima’s delighted smile. Her elegant, stern features transforming into something so light, so delicate and fleeting as the breeze. He thought it was love, at the time.
Quark has never been to Cardassia. He doesn’t believe he’ll ever go.
IV.
When Pell kissed him, still disguised as a male, Quark had the oddest experience. There was something of home about her. She smelled like earth, moist and nurturing. Even she had never told him the truth, he would eventually have put it together, because Ferengi males smelled different, carried the air of alien clothing and the sharp, inimitable sense of often-handled latinum with them.
He doesn’t think he was in love with Pell, but he could have been, easily, if she had stayed. He’s never sure whether he’s grateful or disappointed about this. Sometimes he dreams about her returning to him. After all, Natima did, and Grilka, and even Jadzia, who sometimes looks at him through Ezri’s beautiful blue eyes. He has no idea what he will do if Pel actually does return. But he would like to taste the earth on her again, the smell of home.
What can I say? You know how I feel about him.*g*
hobsonphile has also declared this to be Babylon 5 month, in honour of our 10-years-anniversary. (Really that long – I can’t believe it. Now I feel old.)
And I found someone eminently suited to the task taking on the job of defending Rosie Cotton to certain quarters of the LotR community: Master Samwise Gamgee, naturally.
hobsonphile, Celestial Temple, opened for business and tried my hands on some drabbles to meet the first challenge, which was about the four elements. My first attempt at the fine art of writing drabbles. And one Quark, son of Keldar. Title: Elements
Author: Selena
Rating: PG 13, I think
Character: Quark.
Pairing(s): Reflections on Quark/Jadzia, Quark/Grilka, Quark/Natima and Quark/Pel.
Summary: Four drabbles to meet the “Four Elements” challenge.
Disclaimer: All owned by Paramount.
I.
It says something about the climate on Ferenginar that the Ferengi have more words for rain than for profit. Quark isn’t sure what it says about humans that they only use the one term, so banal: Rain. Because rain makes him think of Jadzia, always. It’s how he explains the whole Trill thing to himself: each incarnation is different, yet the same.
He could hear the waterdrops pouring down on Risa create the distinct impression of a epetu going on when he told her, not for the first time, that what she needed was a Ferengi. “Maybe,” she replied, and then went on to declare her desire for The Walking Frown.
That is something else the Ferengi know about rain: it sustains you or punishes you. You never know which.
II.
His whole body still felt as if it was on fire when Grilka left the station, despite Bashir’s administrations. Scratches, bitemarks, burning lungs and cracked ribs that refused to tell his nerves they had been restored. And yet it had been worth it.
Quark supposed he couldn’t really blame Dax for her attraction to Klingons, endless boring talk about honour and suicidal thirst for blood notwithstanding. They were shiny, dangerous things, Klingons, flames that you inevitably burned your fingers on when touching them for too long. But the heat was exhilarating.
III.
Adding the illusion of wind to a holosuite programm almost doubles the expense. A slight breeze that carries distinct smells makes it a luxury only few of Quark’s customers can afford. He did sell the programm for a tidy profit to some people supposedly in the Orion syndicate, but it was originally created for Natima, and Quark had made Rom work almost a week on it, without payment, of course.
Sitting with Natima on a hill, seeing her relax in what the magic of the holosuite had changed from filtered, artificial air to the spicy breeze reportedly blowing on one of the few remaining Hebedian sites on Cardassia, remains one of his favourite memories. Putting a butterfly, a human insect Rom had put in for a surprise variation, on her nose. Natima’s delighted smile. Her elegant, stern features transforming into something so light, so delicate and fleeting as the breeze. He thought it was love, at the time.
Quark has never been to Cardassia. He doesn’t believe he’ll ever go.
IV.
When Pell kissed him, still disguised as a male, Quark had the oddest experience. There was something of home about her. She smelled like earth, moist and nurturing. Even she had never told him the truth, he would eventually have put it together, because Ferengi males smelled different, carried the air of alien clothing and the sharp, inimitable sense of often-handled latinum with them.
He doesn’t think he was in love with Pell, but he could have been, easily, if she had stayed. He’s never sure whether he’s grateful or disappointed about this. Sometimes he dreams about her returning to him. After all, Natima did, and Grilka, and even Jadzia, who sometimes looks at him through Ezri’s beautiful blue eyes. He has no idea what he will do if Pel actually does return. But he would like to taste the earth on her again, the smell of home.
What can I say? You know how I feel about him.*g*
hobsonphile has also declared this to be Babylon 5 month, in honour of our 10-years-anniversary. (Really that long – I can’t believe it. Now I feel old.) And I found someone eminently suited to the task taking on the job of defending Rosie Cotton to certain quarters of the LotR community: Master Samwise Gamgee, naturally.
