Two Romulans walk into a bar.

Falten smiled softly as the old man took her hand. History. Love. Respect. Time. It was an old love, a long love, and as intricate as the tattoo on Tal's face. It was good to know Romulans could love like that.

"I've never tasted anything like it. D'Imus, it would be an absolute honor to do business with you, if you're willing to work with this little wandering Andorian. Your wares are exquisite. The best I've had the privilege to taste, no question. The Federation can shove their import laws up their asses, as far as I'm concerned."

D'Imus chuckled in his stoic way.

"I am pleased to hear that. Now, we can do this one of two ways. You can buy from me, wholesale, and sell it here however you choose. And because you are a friend of Tal'Ara's, I could cut you a break. However, it can still end up being very expensive. Another option would be to sell it here at my rates, and give me a percentage of your revenue. Normally I would not do this, but Tal'Ara has vouched for you, and assures me you will be able to sell it and get me my money," he paused, studying the Andorian. "Which varieties are you interested in carrying?"

Tal'Ara loved hearing D'Imus negotiate. He was so carful with his words. He was always polite, even when he wasn't being polite. An art she had never quite mastered.

She stared at Falten's deep, blue lips, waiting for her to answer.

Falten smiled and leaned on her elbows, folding her fingers together and looking at the Romulan man with interest and a spark in her eyes.

"For this quality, I am more than willing to pay a bit extra to have it around." She looked at Tal with a grateful and playful smile. "Tal is very kind to speak so highly of me. She's not half bad herself," She added with a light grin and an arched brow. Her attention returned to D'Imus. "Because it is such high quality, and I'm not sure what the demand will be yet, I'd like to start with a standard case of the 2360 and the 2325, if that's all right by you. We can arrange the pricing and payment in whatever way makes you feel most comfortable - you're doing me a huge favor by even agreeing to work with me. I adore the high end bottle, but we'll wait and see if the reception to these two are good, and then maybe keep Midnight here on a special order only basis." She looked to Tal again, a very light searching look in her eyes. Was this okay? The absolute last thing she wanted was to alienate this remarkable Romulan and his brewing prowess.

He chuckled again in his charming way, eyes glistening at the beautiful Andorian.

"I think that sounds fair. I will have my assistant write up the details of the contract and send them to you by the morning. And as a gesture of good faith for an exciting new business enterprise, I am going to let you keep the rest of this," he said, holding the extremely valuable 2256. "The seal has already been broken, so there is no sense in letting it go to waste."

Tal'Ara was taken aback by D'Imus's generosity. Had he softened in his old age? Nevertheless, she was please, if only to have access to such a fine product behind the bar.

Falten's mouth fell open.

"That is far more than I could have ever asked, D'Imus - thank you - I mean, truly..." There weren't words for her gratitude. She looked to Tal for some kind of feedback on D'Imus' actions, and she couldn't help but smile at the tattooed Romulan. Tal looked as surprised as she was. She closed her mouth and nodded, eyes bright.

"Shall we shake on it and have a toast to a new business venture? One I am very honored and very, very pleased to begin, let me say."

D'Imus shook Falten's hand with a strong, steady grip.

He then poured 3 fresh glasses of the good stuff and raised a glass.

"To new friends, and old - may they one day be the same."

Tal'Ara raised her glass for the toast.

Falten's smile burned through Tal'Ara. Maybe it was the ale, maybe it was the presence of her mentor - but she was squirming in her seat.

Falten lifted her glass with a grateful and excited smile.

"I'll drink to that, D'Imus. To your generosity and the beginning of a beautiful friendship." Her eyes flashed quickly to Tal as she said this, but they returned to D'Imus. "Slainte."

This day was looking up, after all.

Tal'Ara and D'Imus clinked their glasses with Falten and took their respective drinks; Tal'Ara a big swill, D'Imus a careful sip.

D'Imus said, "You know, I have met quite a few Andorians in my time, and you are by far the least inhibited. Don't you think so, Tal'Ara?"

He shot Tal'Ara a grin.

She almost choked on her drink.

"Yes... very much so."

Does he know? Is it that obvious?

This was dangerous. She should not be feeling things like this on a mission. She knew better.

She decided to divert the attention off of herself.

"So, Falten, tell us, how did you end up here in this dreadful place?"

Falten took a healthy mouthful of the ale, closing her eyes and relishing the abundance of flavor and age that slid back over her tongue and down her throat.

Falten smiled and arched a brow at the old man; he was far cheekier than she anticipated, and it was quite amusing. Typical Andorian she was not, and that was on purpose.

"Fuck if I know," She laughed in response to Tal's question. "I was never a Federation darling, but I had a few contacts who sent the job opening my way, and it was better than working at a dive bar in the slums of Altair III. They liked my reputation and extensive knowledge of the finer things," she lifted the glass, looking at it fondly. "So they asked if I could work here. With pay like this, why the hell not? Space stations are so much more fun than system posts, anyway. You meet better people up here." She smiled at D'Imus, then at Fal, her eyes lingering on the Romulan woman's face.

Tal'Ara locked eyes with Falten and smiled.

"Better people, indeed."

She wasn't going to let the Andorian win this staring contest. Tal'Ara refused to blink or look away. She was determined to show she had control.

D'Imus took notice of this and decided to stand up.

"Tal'Ara," he said, clearing his throat. "It has been a terribly long day, and I must rest - I'm not quite as young as I once was. I'm going to retire to your quarters for a while."

Tal'Ara was forced to take her eyes off of Falten.

"Of course, let me show you the way," said Tal'Ara, dutifully.

He shook his head.

"I can find my way there just as well on my own. You stay and enjoy the rest of your drink. I will see you later."

It was pointless to fight with him, so she simply nodded.

"Falten, my dear, it has been true pleasure. My assistant will get you the contracts by tomorrow, and we will officially be in business."

He extended a hand.

Falten raised a brow at Tal'Ara's sudden display of strength, but her smile remained knowing and playful. No Romulan had ever behaved this way around her, and it was rather enticing. It was a dangerous game, especially given the sharp and violent edges she had felt from her before, but she had a habit of falling into potentially bad situations, but she usually came out of them with a tattoo, if not a slew of stories. She liked this Romulan. She didn't know how much, but she was growing more curious and thrilled by the minute.

She turned to D'Imus at his polite departure and took his hand warmly, a grateful smile lighting her eyes.

"The pleasure is all mine, D'Imus. If you come to the bar tonight, drinks are on me. It's the least I can do as a thank you. How long will you be on the station?"

"I'm afraid I must make my return to Romulus in the morning. Urgent business," he said to Falten, curtly.

He nodded goodbye to Falten.

Then he took Tal'Ara's hand, squeezed it, and smiled.

"I will see you later," he said with kindness.

Once he walked away, Tal'Ara turned back to Falten.

There was a bit of an awkward silence for a moment.

"So..." Tal'Ara said, raising her eyebrows, unsure of where they now stood.

Falten gave a small wave as D'Imus left, then turned her attention to Tal, standing unsure and alone at the bar. She laughed at the empty pause, her antennae lifting towards Tal.

"So what?" It was a playful dig. Her hair had dried since she had emerged from the back, and she had to take a moment to tie a loose braid down her shoulder. Andorians did not have external ears like most other humanoids - they relied on their antennae as their auditory organs - and therefore did not have the luxury of tucking her hair behind any ears.

"He's an awesome old dude," She nodded towards the entrance of the bar, where D'Imus had left. "And you're not half bad yourself, you know, keeping friends like that." She tilted her head. "Another glass?"

Tal'Ara studied Falten as she tied her white hair into a braid and smiled.

"He is probably the most important person left in my life," she said, without even thinking.

She looked at her glass. Why not?

"Sure, I'll have another, if you'll join me?" she said, hopefully.

"I've never said no," She said with a smile, filling the glasses again with the prized ale. Falten was a little dismayed to have to drink it all in this first sitting with it, but an opened bottle never kept, so there really was no choice.

"Then that makes two of us, without anyone important left to speak of, really." It was an odd offering of personal information from the normally closed off bartender. "You're lucky to have him." She smiled, sipping at the ale.

"No family?" Tal'Ara asked cautiously.

She took a sip of the ancient blue liquid and sighed.

Falten gave a bitter laugh and shook her head slowly, sipping at the midnight blue ale.

"I have no idea, to be honest with you. I left Andor before shit really hit the fan there, so I don't know if clan Undaag kicked it or not." She looked out at nothingness. "Haven't bothered to find out."

She turned her greyish green gaze to Tal, her antenna shifting slowly.

"How about you, Miss Tal Shiar? Anybody left on Romulus?"

For some reason, maybe it was the booze, maybe it was the "Miss Tal Shiar" line, but she felt like being honest.

"Besides D'Imus? No, not really. My mother passed away a few years ago - she had a rare blood disorder. And my father..." she trailed off for a moment, "... he was assassinated when I was 27."

She paused for a drink.

"I was an only child, so I only have a few cousins scattered around here and there. No one I regularly keep in touch with."

Falten nodded slowly, lowering her eyes. She didn't know what it was like to really care if a family member died. She'd never been very close to the Undaag. They'd never really been close to her.

"I'm sorry," She said gently. She didn't know what else to say. Compassion and sensitivity were not things she was accustomed to, and she wasn't sure how to articulate them, or even if it was appropriate or not.

She sipped at the ale again, letting herself get lost in the smokey, aged flavors. It's like it snaked down through her throat and curled around her heart, turning into pure warmth and floating up to the tips of her antennae. It was good fucking stuff.

She opened her eyes and looked at Tal, her face unreadable, but not closed.

Tal'Ara could sense Falten trying to be empathetic.

"It's okay. I've managed. My years in the Tal Shiar have made very self-reliant."

She took another drink.

"I like you," she blurted out.

She felt somewhat embarrassed for saying that and covered her face with her hand.

"I'm sorry. I'm sure you must deal with this all the time."

She felt ashamed for being one of those people. The sad drunks at the bar, hitting on the beautiful, interesting bartender.

Tal'Ara fell silent and stared down at her drink.

Falten looked at her with wide, amused eyes and a delighted smile. She couldn't help a bubbling laugh.

"I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you." She shook her head a little looking Tal over. "And I deal with it far less than you might imagine - they're never polite, or sweet, or really all that attractive." Her antennae lowered towards Tal. This Romulan was something else. "And don't apologize, really. It's flattering, coming from you." Her eyes were bright. "Hypothetically speaking, Miss Tal Shiar, what would you say if I found you attractive and rather liked you myself?"

Tal'Ara nearly choked on her drink. Was she for real?

This could be her only shot. Might as well go for it.

"Hypothetically speaking... I suppose I would ask you out for a drink. But seeing as we're already doing that... dinner?" she stammered.

"Hypothetically, of course," she added, with a wink.

Falten felt her incredulous surprise, and she laughed a little again. It was incredibly charming to see her so disarmed. The fluttering of her heart was almost audible, too.

"Literally, I have never been asked to dinner before." She smiled, pleasant surprise lifting her cheeks. "Any propositions I receive have skipped over any and all formalities, or sense of decorum, due to my proximity to liquor." She laughed, shaking her head. "It's all 'show me that ink, honey,' or 'carpet match the drapes, snowy?' or, my favorite, 'antenna fuck me!'" Her face twisted into incredulous confusion and disgust. "I mean, really?"

"But, to give a hypothetical answer, I suppose yes, hypothetical Falten would be hypothetically interested in a hypothetical dinner date with Miss Tal Shiar." She grinned.

Tal'Ara had not been hot and bothered like this in a long time. Her mind went to all sorts of places at the mention of the strange things people said to Falten - and part of her really did want to see all of her ink...

But she was taking her seriously. This was actually going to happen.

She laughed, "Well, then, hypothetically, when and where would you like to go? I'm afraid we dont have too many options on this rust bucket... and I'm not a fan of Klingon cuisine."

Falten made a face of revulsion.

"I love the Klingons, I really do, but gods fucking help me if I ever have to even look at gagh again..." She shuddered. "Anything but gagh..."

She shook her head and gave a shrug.

"I'm not a terribly picky eater - slum work will do that for a girl - so I'd be down for just about anything, really. And as for when...?" She looked over at HJ for a strange moment, and her face suddenly showed immense exhaustion and unease. She'd almost forgotten about last night's visitor, but the Cardassian face had suddenly reared up in her mind. She tried to shake it out, shrugging again, rubbing her hand along her sweatered arm. "I don't know. I might not be the best date today... It's been a day, man. And I mean, you can't completely ditch D'Imus, now can you?" She looked at Tal'Ara, desperately hoping she wasn't reading this as a rejection of any kind.

A thought occurred to her, some vague gossip she had heard from HJ and scanning the station reports earlier.

"Why not tomorrow? Maybe. I hear there's a promotion ceremony - and I heard a rumor that there's a Romulan liason getting an upgrade." She tried to mask her weariness with a cheeky grin. "A celebratory dinner date?"