Quark said the buyer would be the one in the golden sash ordering a Vulcan brandy. He said that right before Odo hauled him off for questioning about some missing schematics. So here she was, lounging behind the bar, keeping an eye out for a guest fitting her boss' description.

She ran an impatient finger along the bottles stashed under the bar, waiting for her shift to be over. Groups have come and gone, but no golden sash in sight. She was ready to signal Rom to take her place, when a short Klingon female stalked in and took a seat at a table near the darkened end of the bar; a gold metal stash across her chest glinting in the dimmed lights. Leeta approached the figure, a slow smile spreading on her lips.

‘What can I get you?’ she asked as she took in the attractive features and broad shoulders of the guest.

‘A Vulcan brandy, please.’

Leeta returned with the bottle and a couple glasses. She poured the drinks, and then unceremoniously planted herself in the other woman’s lap. The Klingon grunted, but did not object. Leeta snaked an arm around a proud neck.

‘I thought you’d want to avoid any suspicion.’ She whispered conspiratorially.

‘B’Elanna.’

‘Hm?’ She was gently biting on an inviting earlobe.

‘My name.’

‘Ah, pretty. I’m Leeta.’ She nibbled on.

‘And Quark?’

‘He’s… Ehm… otherwise engaged.’ The necking continued.

‘Not that I’m not enjoying myself, but now what?’ B’Elanna asked after a while.

‘You could rent one of the holosuites for an hour, I could give you the merch there.’ Leeta suggested.

‘Why not just hand it over now?’

‘I think I just saw a constable walk in. You do want to keep up appearances…’