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¨Do you understand what this says?” Odo asked, leaning back to read the graffiti on the wall by his office door.
Next to him, Quark shook his head slowly.
¨It´s Cardassian, I think it’s slang, that’s all I can tell,” he mumbled. The black paint glistened wetly in the bright light of the Promenade.
The duo had been walking along, arguing about whether oo-mox counted as indecent public behavior, when they found the graffiti. In the few minutes Odo had spent away from the office, someone managed to paint a Cardassian sentence without anyone noticing.
“Are you surprised?” Quark asked after a moment. The entire station had been holding it’s breath ever since Odo and Garak let it be public knowledge they were together. It seemed the tension had finally come to a head.
“I’m surprised it took this long,” Odo grunted, reaching up and tapping his combadge, “Odo to Cleanup crew, there is obscene graffiti on the Promenade. Please remove it as soon as possible.”
“Yes sir!” the cheery voice of the Cleanup crew supervisor echoed.
“Odo out.”
Quark frowned.
“It looks like one of the shopkeepers handwriting…” he mumbled.
“Please leave the investigation to me Quark,” Odo grumbled, but he took note. “Unless you can tell me what it says, leave.”
Odo listened to Quark’s footsteps. Once he was sure Quark was in the bar, he let out a heavy sigh. It wasn't a surprise, but it still stung. Many people on the station liked Elim and Odo as separate entities. But them being in a relationship seemed too much. He needed to nip this in the bud, before it got to the point of physical violence. Even if it was only one person now, one can turn to ten with a single conversation.
He should go and review the security tapes. By the end of the day, the vandal would be in a cell. Odo squared his shoulders and started to walk.
BANG
Odo whirled around, a thousand possibilities echoing through his mind. Assault, robbery, Morn-
Elim stood in the middle of the Promenade, a crate of thread sitting mere millimeters from his foot. Some of the spools were scattered around him.
“E-Garak,” Odo strode over, “what’s wrong?”
Collecting himself, Elim straightened up and closed his mouth, but his eyes were still wider than usual.
“Nothing’s wrong, my dear,” Elim said, “the new paint simply… surprised me. Who decided to redecorate the Promenade?”
Around them, people began to point out the graffiti. Odo caught the eye of one of his deputies. She nodded and began to herd people away.”
“I don’t know. Do you know what it says?” Odo asked, placing a light hand on the small of Elim’s back. Elim nodded, grimacing.
“It doesn’t translate well into Standard,” Elim said, “It’s a pre-Hebetian phrase, when it was particularly distasteful for unusual relationships to exist.” His voice hitched on distasteful. “Today it applies to interspecies relationships. ‘Love and die’.”
“Love and die,” Odo scoffed. Elim grabbed Odo’s elbow. He into Odo’s eyes, pure earnestness shining through.
Elim was nervous.
“It’s what crowds would chant during their executions.”
“Ah.” It was more than vandalism, it was a threat. Odo knew that there was more to the story, but he knew enough that the charges would be severe. “Once the Cleanup crew gets here, I’ll help you pick up your thread.”
“My thr-” Elim looked down and groaned. “I suppose my reaction was a bit dramatic.”
Odo chuckled.
“You are never dramatic Elim.”
Nothing is going to happen to us, Odo thought, nothing in the universe.