Reverse Housewarming: A Matter of Tastes
Posted on 23 Jan 2024 @ 9:29pm by Commander Calliope Zahn & Lieutenant Commander Christophe Leblanc & Brek - Timeless Treasures Art Gallery
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: OC, Zahn's Quarters
Timeline: M4 D9 (all day, whenever)
3598 words - 7.2 OF Standard Post Measure
Some time later, through the propped open door, in walked Chris in uniform with a real package under his arm. He walked in with a guarded smile, seeing all the new faces gathered and chatting. He looked for the one person he expected to know, and found her with his eyes immediately. Green women were hard to miss, naturally.
Dressed up for a good time as hostess of her own shindig, Calliope was busy talking and simultaneously consolidating some of the boxes. Almost half of her stuff had already been claimed as people had cycled through the party, and she found her heart correspondingly half lightened. It was a strange exercise. She could have dematerialized it or set it on fire, but sharing it with friends old and new made her feel less wasteful and more connected. She watched familiar things claim new owners, and even if all they did was to drop it into a recycler when they were out of her line of sight, she would get to imagine things getting a new life full of happy associations and memories. In her own element, surrounded by good company and interesting people, she was glowing with a smile from milling around and laughing, and presently was freeing up another empty crate to hand to the Ferrengi for all of his newly discovered treasures.
“Take another box to fill! You know what?” Calliope was saying to the Ferrengi, after he admitted that the records he was taking were not his taste, but intended for resale. “It’s nice that you’re going to resell things. I mean, the people who will pay the most for something must be people who will get a lot of use or pleasure from their finds.” She made sure the box she gave him was one of the ones with ‘To Pogs' marked in big, bold letters, and subsequently scribbled out after their bad business dealing– just to be thrice sure that that cheat Pog was getting the message.
Brek took the box, and he promptly put some refined tableware inside: stainless steel and crystal glasses. “They sure will, Commander, even if sometimes they too end up selling what they buy from me. The life of a well made item must be fascinating, as it goes from hand to hand, until it’s too damaged and must be discarded.” He considered the words ‘to Pogs’ that appeared on the box and made a note to himself: never to annoy, cross or otherwise pester Zahn. “You have so many great items in here, Commander. Why, it’s like being in a shop!”
“Just so you know, nothing on my display shelves over there by the entertainment center is part of this give away.” Calliope felt she had to be clear on that much at least. Not that there would be a market for her personal photos or her mothers ugly handmade vase. It seemed silly to her after she had said it. But he was so keen on collecting things she felt like she had to say something before he started going through the wardrobe and the kitchen cabinets, too.
“Oh,” Brek said, his disappointment evident as he looked at those shelves. He didn’t like her saying that because whenever something was out of reach, he instantly wanted it. Even when the goods weren’t anything special, like those weird vases on display. (Sometimes, artists express themselves too much and the result is not pleasing). “It’s lucky you told me about that, I might have raided those shelves next. Now that I know, I wouldn’t dream of touching them, of course.”
He forced himself to grin and he felt a presence behind him: A tall Hewmon, in a gold uniform, with three respectable pips on the collar. There was also a package under the man’s arm and Brek gathered that the Lt Cmdr wanted to speak with Zahn. Work related stuff, no doubt. That sort of thing seldom leaves you alone, even when you’re just a civilian.
Calliope looked up as Brek did, and smiled. “Another new friend of mine,” she said. “This is Chris Leblanc, one of my neighbors, he’s just moved to the station. Chris, this is Mister Brek. He owns a gallery on the promenade.”
Chris looked at the Ferengi with an expression which was the perfect mix of skeptical and neutral. He offered a smile that came nowhere near his blue eyes.
“Brek, it’s nice to meet you. Calliope is being modest. So far I’m her drinking buddy. I think all three of us agree that that is a much more fun role to play.” He said, the smile growing into a genuine one at his own joke. “How long have you been aboard the station?”
“A month, give or take,” Brek said, thoroughly impressed by Leblanc's words. The Lt Cmdr had just arrived on O.C. and he was already on a first name basis with the Commander. Those Hewmons, their qualities were truly innumerable. “The name of the art gallery is Timeless Treasures. I hope you will visit sometime. There is truly not one masterpiece that I cannot locate for my clients. But I see that you have brought a gift, no doubt for our hostess?”
Now would have been the ideal moment to slip away and let the two officers alone, but curiosity kept him right where he was. It felt like new history was being written. Right when the Commander was giving stuff away to get rid of a past that had become unpalatable, the future was stepping in with new goodies.
“I’ll have to make time to stop by. I appreciate artwork, though I have to admit I’m a bit picky with what I like. I do like the idea of filling my apartment with some fascinating art. There’s nothing else to do with my money out here.”
The box he was carrying was haphazardly wrapped in a silken hot pink bow. He offered it to her with a level gaze, his feet still turned to the Ferengi.
“New beginnings always come with new belongings, mon fleur.”
His eyes then matched his feet, turning to the Ferengi again.
“How’s business so far? Do you find the population of this station…artistically curious?”
Brek continued to look at the gift, reflecting that, gender equality notwithstanding, women were always the ones to receive gifts. When was the last time he had received something nicely wrapped? Never. Ever. Zilch. Nada. He almost sighed and then remembered the questions he had been asked. “Business is good, I can’t complain. The population not only has a good eye for art, there are also a few talented artists who live on this Station.”
While they talked, Calli slid the bow off the gift, shaking her head. There was something in the way Brek’s eyes were tracking her while he was talking to Chris that made her feel it should be opened rather than set aside for later. Which was her real instinct, as she on the one hand didn’t want to make any other guests feel they should have brought something too and start a whole fresh chain of later make-up gifting, and on the other hand also wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to be accepting gifts from the new Chief Engineer among company. Rumors were going to start at this rate. But she was equally afraid the ferengi might actually spontaneously combust with the growing curiosity on his face.
The gift already betrayed that it was soft and inside the brown paper was a woven throw blanket. It looked like one of the ones from the Obsidian goods resellers, with stock that came up from the market stalls, and Calliope set it on the half cleared table to unfold it and see the pattern. There was a pillar candle inside, which she supposed might have been a reference to having fire in the apartment, and a couple of bottles of scented oil.
“Thanks,” She said,” I’ve meant to get one of these. I think they make them from Chuchaki hair.” She brushed a tassel with her hand. It was surprisingly softer than the smelly, unwashed Chuchaki beasts looked while lumbering around the markets.
“You’re most welcome. I know you said no gifts, but..” he trailed off, a smile on his face, “Bien faire te laisser dire. Do well, and let them speak.”
He had always had a strange relationship with the rules. He liked to question them and push the boundaries to see if they were really there. He wasn’t crazy about it, but bringing a gift when he was asked not to was a behavior one could expect from him.
Brek considered the blanket. A traditional item, so it must be quite expensive. But he found it less interesting than the fact that Leblanc knew what Zahn needed. The two officers already had a history together. This was what he would call valuable information.
“Of course,” the Ferengi continued, “Now that you are getting rid of all your old stuff, Commander Zahn, you will need to redecorate your quarters with brand new things. Items that reflect the future rather than the past. Are you interested in any particular style? Maybe I can be of help?”
She refolded the blanket and smiled. She liked Brek’s style: more of the kind of subtle salesman than the crass and shortsighted bottom-liners only such as the Pogs of that world. Instead Brek was bringing the subject back around to see if you might naturally have an interest in his offerings. The sales nudge. Taking a few steps away from them as she spoke, she set the candle and bottles on one of the shelves in the demarcated ‘no-go zone’ out of reach of the taking and put the blanket over the arm of the sofa, next to where Chief Lex-Navine had found another guest to show his family pictures.
“I promise to come to your gallery and see if there’s anything that will bring a new sort of energy in here. I'm not sure what to say I like as a style. It’s sort of personal or eclectic, I guess. I don’t know. Sort of whatever speaks to me when I see it.”
Having sorted her new things, she made it back to where she had begun and looked to Chris. “What about you? Will you look for something aesthetic for the new place?” She wondered if Brek would negotiate a commission for her putting Chris on the spot for him as well, and couldn’t help but smirk.
“Me?” Chris asked, his eyebrows lifting in a gentle social surprise. While put on the spot and recognizing the implications of saying no, he seemed relatively at ease. “I would have to see what Mr. Brek had to offer first before I committed to buying any of it. But, I admit a certain curiosity. I’m sure I’ll find myself in your shop in the near future.”
“I love eclectic too,” Brek said, encouraged by the prospect of having two new customers, and despite the fact that his gallery always contained a lot of Romulan art. “More importantly, I like what my customers like. You see, in ‘Timeless Treasures’ - this is the name of my gallery,” he added for Leblanc, “what is exhibited is less important than what I can find for my clients. You only have to say a word, and I’ll trace the masterpiece you want. Whether you are after something modern, traditional, minimalist, calming or energetic, small or large, nothing can escape my artistic radar.”
He made a slight pause and continued his sales pitch. “In addition, at the moment I have a unique exhibition. The sort of thing I feel sure you have never seen before: canvases that can reflect your emotions. You just have to stand in front of a blank canvas, and the splashes of colours that appear will reveal your mood. Of course it’s all subject to interpretation and what we feel is prone to change from minute to minute. But with such a canvas you’re sure never to see the same thing twice.”
“Like mood rings for the wall!” Calliope enthused. “It’s genius. Who came up with the idea?”
“One of my artists has been pestering me with this concept for weeks.” The Ferengi said with a light shrug, showing that what happened couldn’t be helped. “Strak is Vulcan, and although we had many arguments, I didn’t win many.”
“A vulcan?” This obviously surprised Calliope at first but then her surprise resolved as she considered. “I suppose they’re typically so stoic, mood reading art to understand feelings might be quite a boon.”
Chris listened to their conversation with obvious but silent interest. He said nothing as they spoke, but anyone who observed him could tell that his mind was working.
“In the end I gave in,” Brek resumed. “Just to get some peace from his relentless reasoning. I’m glad I did, though, because this exhibition is quite successful. It’s new, fresh, original, and it gets people to talk and reflect on their current state of mind.”
“What got you into the art world? Like investing or something?” Calliope asked, recollecting her wine glass from where she had left it. Looking at what he had chosen so far, she found it curious what Brek was gathering from her things, as he seemed to know something about the market for just about anything.
“Oh, that’s an old story, and a long one too...” Brek said, none too happy to dig into his less than pristine past. “To make it short, during my time as a diplomat, a crafty politician I was trying to reason with asked me to meet him in an art gallery. He never turned up. The poor devil had too many agendas. As I waited and waited, I befriended the gallery’s owner, one Mrs Moreau. As we talked, I realized that art was actually an excellent way to make money, especially for a person who, like me, enjoys collecting and selling expensive items. And from that moment I was hooked. Anyway, this Mrs Moreau appears to be from the same Earth region as you do, Cmdr Leblanc. This tiny country nestled between the English world and the Russian one.” Brek added, aware that his idea of Terran geography was rather fanciful. “It is amazing, how, no matter where we come from, our roots always seem to follow us, like a ghostly shadow...”
“Not so small a country, Brek.” Chris responded, a slightly irritable tinge to his voice. “You speak of France. Once the cultural center of the world.” Chris tapped his foot, indicating an unexplained restlessness. Whatever had intrigued him before had been replaced. “Of course, art is an excellent method of laundering money. I assume, as a former politician, you are well-versed in that trade?”
Calliope’s eyes widened. She took another draught of her wine glass.
“Touché, Commander.” Brek added, noticing that Zahn was the only one in their little group to adopt a diplomatic stance. “I quite like to see how Terrans defend their nation. Mrs Moreau would have been as fierce as you, Leblanc, and she would have added a few chosen words too. I love it when she tells me to eff off. It always sounds somehow more refined. One of her favorite lines is: ‘Bordel, Brek, vous faites chier!’ I do miss her.” The Ferengi took a deep breath, “I guess I’m not the best of friends, and I apologize for the liberty I took. My years as a diplomat seem so far away now, I am terribly rusty. However, I swear, I have never laundered anything in my whole life, not even my own clothes. I’m absolutely respectable.”
Relaxing, Calliope realized that they had both been testing one another out, and there wasn’t about to be any ill will. “Ah heh.” She laughed her way down obviously from a little tension.
Brek frowned, concerned that the two Commanders would consider him a liar, and then he added. “Soooo... I was wondering about shopping habits. Cmdr Zahn, Cmdr Leblanc, imagine there is a rare item that you dearly want. How do you go about it? Are you prepared to wait as long as it takes until you find it, or do you take a drastic shortcut and replicate it?”
“Oh, I came up through operations.” Calliope said brightly. “If there’s a requisition I want badly enough, some part or device or equipment, I go through my contacts and figure out how to make it happen. But usually that sort of thing has a timeline so lead times matter.”
“I prefer the genuine article, but I am notoriously impatient.” Chris said, looking between Zahn and Brek. “If it is something interesting to be used or displayed, like a piece of fine art, I will typically buy it and, in the meantime, before it arrives, replicate a version of it. When the genuine one arrives, I recycle the replicated ones and replace it with the real. The best of both worlds.”
“You own art?” Calliope asked, not sure what to picture him a collector of, although she wasn’t sure why she was surprised.
“Us lumbering oafs in the Engineering Branch can sometimes find a bit of passion.” He said to her with a smile, winking charmingly, but making his confidence known by the consistency and intensity of his eye contact, “I love things that are beautiful. Life is about preserving and creating beauty. Don’t tell our diminutive friend, however. Or I might be propositioned to buy his entire gallery.”
He looked to Brek, giving a gentle sigh. “I’m intrigued by your current exhibit, I must admit. I may have a use for them. Or, at least, the technology behind it.”
Calliope’s eyes smiled as she looked over her wine glass. “Don’t let him talk you out of your trade secrets, Mr. Brek.”
“Whose side are you on?” He said under his breath, reaching over and nudging Calli gently on her arm, grinning. “Not to worry, Brek. I’ll make sure you’re compensated fairly for any information you provide. After all, you are not in business to be exploited.”
Brek’s smile had somewhat frozen after being called ‘diminutive’. Still, for the sake of potential sales a Ferengi ought to soldier on. Such was life. An eternal struggle to grab other people’s wealth. “It’s not that the tech behind this exhibition is tremendously amazing,” he revealed. “It is the opposite: beautifully simple. It is an alliance between cleverness and artistry. Besides, I’m not... hmm... ungenerous. The buyer of such a canvas earns the right to know how it works. Will you buy, though, Cmdr Leblanc? Or is your talk about the importance of beauty just directed at Cmdr Zahn?”
“It’s true,” Calliope confirmed, glad to have the chance to say it, since Brek had broached the topic first. “He is a flirt.”
Chris gave Calliope an amused look which seemed somewhat surprised. He then leaned back, his gaze lingering on Brek with a smirk.
“Flirtation is an art in itself, is it not, Mr. Brek? It’s about capturing attention and leaving a lasting impression. Much like your gallery, it involves understanding the feelings, even the desires of others. And, besides that, it’s great fun.” He put his hands up in a questioning gesture. “What sane man can resist the allure of beauty in art, conversation, or in the eyes of a beautiful woman?”
Not waiting for an answer, he returned to the topic and hand.
“But, to answer your first question, I may pay, if your wares are as fascinating as you say. I have inherited a pet project it may be perfect for.”
“Inherited?” Calliope repeated questioningly, unsure who in Chris’ life might have passed on and left him something.
“Cmdr Leblanc, your words are like paint on a canvas: masterful. And now that you’ve mentioned it, I too, am curious about this pet project of yours. Does it require expensive elements?”
“Oh, yes. Very expensive, I’d imagine. But the most expensive will need to be approved by command.” He said, eyeing the woman who was talking with them, “I am not yet willing to spill the beans, as they say. To either of you. I will, however, need to take a look at your exhibit or have it seen by an Engineer whose judgment I trust.”
“Oh well then. Keep your secrets.” Calliope said, waving it away. New guests were arriving and she realized she needed to greet them as well. “Mm. Be sure you both try some of the food. I had it catered by Whistlin' Dixie’s. Sorry,” She said as she backed out from their little circle. “If you’ll both excuse me for a moment.” With that, Calliope ducked away and there was a bright greeting and welcoming hugs between herself and the new company just inside of the door.
Brek licked his lips. The word ‘expensive’ always made him thirsty. “I look forward to this visit, Cmdr Leblanc.” He then sighed. “Look at all those new people... I must abandon you too, and continue with my foraging. I wouldn’t want to miss anything of great value…”
