Fussing over orchids

Late in the Pleasure Gardens, the steady stream of visitors had dwindled to a trickle of tired travelers and young couples on dates. Da-an was utilizing a delicate syringe to administer droplets of food to a spray of lush tropical blossoms. They were consistently alone, being a member of a declining species, but a garden meant they were never really lonely. Nevertheless, they wouldn't have minded at this point, the pleasant distraction of idle conversation.

Val took a stroll to the pleasure gardens, pleased to see how popular they were, but still a little sad not to have them to himself anymore. He wore a tight and very low cut black ensemble with a fine marigold silk scarf and some white flowers in his hair. It was not difficult to fnd Da-an.
"Need any help?" He asked, leaning against a tree.

"I'm already done," they said. "How's business?" They asked casually.

Val placed his hands behind his back and pushed off the tree, coming up next to Da-an.
He shrugged. "Quiet. I took a few days off," he admitted. "But I missed you. How is the garden coming?"

"You missed me?" they asked, genuinely surprised. "I didn't know you thought of me at all. It's coming along, as you see. I'm glad everyone likes it so, I didn't expect it would become so popular so fast. It's nice to have my work appreciated," they said.

Val stroked a long palm leaf and let it slide over his arm.
"Of course I do," he assured Da-an. "I don't have to go on second dates with people I don't care about."

Da-an turned a hue of violet, possibly indicating embarrassment. "I'm flattered, you seem selective. Someone who looks like you can certainly afford to be." They rested a tendril over his fair, heavily embellished hand.

"Luckily for me, I can afford to be very selective these days," Val said happily, lifting his hand and letting the tendril slip between his fingers. "Are people treating you well here?"

"Well enough. People stare a little, but I don't blame them," they said. "What are you doing tonight?"

Val shrugged. "I don't know yet. Would you like some company?"

"As long as it's your company," they said. They knelt and began to tug on a fistful of weeds. "Tell me more about what it's like on Bajor now," they said. "I like your anecdotes."

"Do you?" Val asked, pleased as punch.  He settled down in a patch of soft moss.
"Well.. we're still very much recovering from occupation.. physically and otherwise.  But there was this wonderful release of pride and exuberance when we were free to practice our culture our own way, and govern ourselves.  All our leaders say we're 'poised for greatness,' whatever they mean by that.  The province where my mum lives now is very pretty - full of soft valleys and winding rivers."

"Do you miss it? Bajor, I mean? Why don't you live there anymore?" They gathered a small bouquet. "I'm sorry, I'm asking too many questions." They were apologetic to a fault.

"You're not. People like to lecture me, they like telling me about their woes, and I don't mind listening. But it's rare someone wants to know about me. It's nice."

Val lounged and his answers were definitely informed by the beauty he saw around him.

"I left Bajor because there just wasn't a good call for my services anymore. My Cardassian clients were gone, and my Bajoran clients were suddenly scornful of anyone they seemed to be collaborators, so.. I miss it sometimes, but I like it here. I get to meet very interesting people, and I get to live on my own terms. And I wouldn't get to see all this if I'd stayed in my little hovel back home."

"Are you really a collaborator though? If you hadn't done what you do willingly, wouldn't they have taken it anyway? It seems to me that the Cardassian military doesn't take no for an answer."

"They certainly don't," Val smiled, then shrugged. "And not everyone can be a hero."

"I think your people are a little bit hard on you, but what do I know, I'm an outsider. Isn't there anything that could clear your name?" They rested a bouquet of colorful tropical blossoms in his lap. "It's hard to believe that such a spiritual culture could be so unforgiving."

"I don't know," Val said. "But to be honest, I'm not terribly bothered about clearing my name. Being able to look out the port window and see just how small Bajor is, it gives me a bit of... a distance of perspective." He laid out like a cat and stretched, his fingers tangling in some tall grass.
"You should know by now that many humanoids preach one thing and practice another."

"I suppose I still have quite a lot to learn. Does your mother like flowers? We could send some to her," they offered. "Fruit too."

"Could we? I think she'd love that!" Val said excitedly. "They won't spoil in transit?"

"Not if we send them with the next freight, it leaves early tomorrow morning. You should pick them out before it departs, I don't know what people like," they paused. "I just know that people like all of this," they said, gesturing broadly over their shoulder to their surroundings.

Val popped up and surveyed the landscape. "Which parts are off limits?"

"Nothing, really. I didn't plant anything rare or poisonous to the touch," they said. "I anticipated curious visitors," they added. "Just don't pluck me."

Val looked back at Da-an and grinned. "But you're so cute," he teased, going into the foliage and inspecting some large purple clusters, picking some, and pairing them with small white blooms.

They blissfully watched Val frolic to gather his blossoms, as sweetly as a child in a meadow. If a plant could sigh happily, Da-an would have. "Don't forget the fruit," they droned after him.