Raisaris Shepard was pissed. Pissed being the down played version of the seething unreasonable rage that was boiling her blood and causing her biotic amp to spark. She wanted to squeeze something until it burst, snapped, or shattered. Which is how the great War Hero Commander Shepard knew it was time to remove herself from the company of her shipmates.
She tapped her booted foot on the elevator deck with an impatiently quick tempo, wondering to herself how descending two levels could take so damned long.
"EDI, is anyone in the cargo bay?" Raisaris asked with as much respect as she could muster. She was often teased or scoffed at for her inexplicable respectful and polite interactions with VIs, and then EDI. It never bothered her, however, because in the back of her mind, she always knew there would come a time in which she would come across an AI, and she sure as hell didn't want to become a casualty simply because she couldn't treat it as an equal. The theory in application had created a very unique relationship between herself and her ship's sentient spirit. A relationship that proved invaluable and enlightening, as well as providing a sense of fulfillment to Shepard.
"My sensors are showing the cargo bay devoid of life signs, Shepard," EDI responded in her reflexive informative tone. When she spoke again, her tone was much more friendly, and tinted with genuine concern, "Rai, how are you feeling? My sensors indicate that you are experiencing elevated levels of adrenaline and testosterone, as well as-"
"I'm pissed, EDI, I'm just really fucking pissed." Shepard declared, interrupting the AI while rushing thru the elevator doors as they were still parting into the cargo holding area.
She paused for a moment, spending a split second considering if she was overreacting. The answer was obvious; of course she was. But the real question remained: did she actually care? To which the answer was no, she did not give a single solitary fuck.
So often, too often, she denied herself the human need to react. Physically react, emotionally react, personally react. She always kept her shit in check. It's what got her thru everything fate had thrown at her. But she'd had absolutely enough of that bullshit. All of it.
She fished her gym bag out of a dark corner behind a stack of ration crates, determined to blow some steam. She dressed out quickly, changing from standard Alliance issue BDUs and combat boots, into only a sports bra and a pair of form fitting sparring shorts.
Raisaris let her unnaturally bright red hair down from it's usual bun, and retrieved her brush and a hair tie from the bag. As she started brushing, she looked at one of the secret cameras, and rose one of her perfectly arched brows.
"Go ahead, EDI, I know you're dying to ask me," Shepard said, smiling with sincere amusement. EDI often asked her questions about human nature that she had difficulty analyzing. Rai knew this would be such a situation.
"What about that conversation made you loose your temper, Rai?"
Raisaris thought EDI sounded so very much like a child in that moment.
"I'm not exactly sure, to be honest," Shepard began, as she started to braid her waist length hair. "I guess I thought I was over it, him, us. That thing that happened before I died..."
"I have noticed that you are displaying increased interest in Lieutenant Vega, Shepard," EDI stated, a sneaky hint of teasing in her synthetic voice. "Perhaps you should-"
"EDI, NO!" Shepard exclaimed, her face turning red as she snapped the hair tie in place at the end of her plait.
"Shepard, Major Alenko was very clear in his declaration that he was over you," EDI rebuffed.
"Yeah, I know, EDI. Thanks for the reminder," she bit out, sighing heavily.
"I am simply inferring that perhaps you shouldn't disregard the fact you respond to Vega. I am everywhere in this ship, I see and hear all," EDI continued.
EDI cued a sound file to play from Raisaris's omnitool. It was of Aria, but it was computer generated.
"I am Normandy!" it declared, and Raisaris burst into a fit of unexpected laughter that ended in a very unattractive snorting inhale as she gasped for breath. After Shepard had learned how to breathe again, she straightened up and began stretching. With her ankle pulled up to her hip, she asked EDI to start the music.
When Cerberus had first released Shepard into the galaxy with a bright shiny new Normandy, Raisaris saw to a few more upgrades when they stopped in Omega. Namely installing state of the art speakers and subwoofers into the recesses of Shepard's cabin and the cargo bay.
They just so happened to have been a gift from Aria T'loak herself, bestowed upon Shepard for her musical knowledge. Apparently, naming an obscure human electronic trance song two centuries old impressed the asari matriarch.
The gift was joyfully received, and was constantly in use. Raisaris's life was governed by music, in every way. Every memory had a song, every song had it's own story, every emotion had it's own melody.
Her crew thought she couldn't dance, but that's mainly due to an unexplainable case of stage fright. She could dance, boy howdy could she dance. It's how she fought. A beat, a rhythm, a routine. The music was always going in her ear when she was on missions.
Bass thumped through the balls of her feet, and she started slowly swaying her hips and shoulders. She loosened her neck and began moving forward, light on her toes, her arms flowing from shoulder to fingertip with the grace of a belly dancer. She released her biotics in gentle surges, controlling their exit from her body, confining it to the palms of her hands.
With a flick of her hip that extended through her knee, and her ankle, she kicked herself into a slightly coiled stance, power building in her calves. Following the beat, she lunged to the right and left, extending her arms and pantomimed disarming an enemy. She resumed dancing, only to perform a series of spinning high and low kicks, flowing and revolving like she was a ninja ballerina.
Every twist, turn, swish, dip, thrust, shove and flick brought Raisaris close and closer to forgetting why she'd been mad to begin with. She was so absorbed in what she was doing, she never felt the eyes upon her. Never noticed the other person that had arrived.
And was he oh so ever intrigued.
James stared in wide eyed wonder at the sight that had greeted him when he exited the elevator. He briefly debated leaving immediately, but there was something hypnotic about Raisaris Shepard dancing and fighting simultaneously that cemented his boots right into the deck.
She was wearing a black sports bra and a pair of charcoal grey shorts that were so snug, little was left to the imagination. Her flaming scarlet hair was braided, and much longer than he realized. He's never seen her without it up in a perfect bun towards the top of her head. Her crystal green eyes were fierce with concentration, but James didn't miss the glint of joy gleaming from them.
Raisaris Shepard was a very talented dancer, her form a combination of every type of dance James could think of. He licked his lower lip, contemplating asking to join her, but his courage faltered. She undoubtedly wanted to be alone, that much was clear when she thundered out of the crew lounge as if she was on fire.
He stared at his boots for a moment, again debating making a hasty retreat, when he realized the music had ceased and that Shepard had stopped dancing. The sound of her labored breath echoed lightly in the cavernous space, her anger finally spent.
She watched him in wide eyed silence, the expression on her face a mixture of confusion, surprise and something else James couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Hey, Lola," he said softly, his voice cracking lightly from having been silent for so long. He took a step towards her, but waited for her to tell him to get lost. He took another when she didn't.
"James, what are you doing here?" she asked him, slightly dazed and sounding like it.
"Uh, Commander...I kinda bunk down here, remember?" He replied with a rogue smile.
"Oh. Yeah. I forgot." She responded lamely, shifting her eyes down to her feet.
"So, dancing, eh, Lola?" James ventured, hoping to get a conversation out if her that was personal. There was something about the beautiful warrior in front of him that'd always called to him, even before he met her on Earth. He felt like he knew her from somewhere, something deep inside nagging his brain endlessly. He could never put his finger on it, and the more he tried, the crazier he felt.
"Yeah, it's not that easy keeping flexible..." She offered, her hand coming up palm raised in a unsure gesture.
"No, no it's not. Don't sound so embarrassed, Shep, you're pretty damned good," he said, his voice warm and husky...much more than he had intended.
"Ah, huh," she replied wearily, eyeing him from the corners of her eyes.
Suddenly, his courage flared, and he grinned at her with intent.
"What's so funny, James?" She asked, still unsure of the young man's very large presence.
"We're gunna dance, ma'am," he replied, reaching for her hand. She didn't retract her hand, and when he wrapped his hand around hers, he was certain she was gripping him back. He lead her towards the middle of the bay, and stood in front of her.
"EDI?" James called out, a smile playing on his full lips, eyes locked on Shepard's.
"Yes, Lieutenant Vega?" came the cool reply.
"Surprise us," was the simple request.
"I can do that, Lieutenant," she affirmed, and the music began.
A guitar clipped out a reel, and three notes in, both of their eyes grew wide in recognition. It was an old song, very old, and the dance that went with it even older. Grins split their faces as their arms began to raise above their heads, and they took off together in a paso doble. They surged and pulsed together and apart with an ease of people that had been dancing together for years. Every spin got faster than the last, every pivot more sharp, every extension longer, and still they flowed.
Raisaris flung the tie out of her braid after her third spin out, and by the eighth her hair was completely loose.
James found himself reveling in the moment, the feel of her body so close to his, the smell of her hair, of her herself, the feel of her strong and sure body in his arms, responding to the lightest of touches, following his lead without hesitation. He realized in that moment, with blazing clarity, that he belonged with this woman.
The song came to an end with a crescendo, and James found himself holding Raisaris by the back of the knee and a shoulder, their groins joined, as Rai bent over backwards at the waist, with his face on her muscled stomach. There was no hiding his physical response to their dance from her, not in that position. She couldn't hide her own reaction, not at that distance, or rather the lack thereof.
"James, I-" Shepard began, placing a gentle hand on the side of his face, but she was interrupted by thunderous pounding on the window above them on engineering deck.
Without pulling apart, they looked up as one and were united in their mortification that half the crew was in the windows clapping, pounding the glass and cheering.
They released each other lightning fast, and put two arms length distance between them, but it was too late for that. What had been witnessed couldn't be unseen, and both James and Raisaris turned beet red.
"We are never going to live this down, James. Trust me. Garrus will never allow it," Raisaris sighed in defeat, yet still with a smile on her face.
"That's fine with me, Lola, I don't want anyone to forget what we can do," he said with a cocky grin painted across his lips.
"Oh, boy...I forgot how big that ego of yours is, Vega," Shepard bemoaned with a mocking shake of her head.
"It's not ego when it's the honest truth, Shep," he shot back as she headed towards the lift.
"Riiiiiight, I'll have to remember that," she tossed back, winking at him over her shoulder as she stepped on to the elevator. "I'm hitting the rack, Lieutenant. I recommend you do the same," she advised, and with that, the doors shut and she was gone.
"Oh, yeah, cos I'm so going to be able to sleep after all of that," he muttered to thin air as his eyes traveled back to the windows the crew had been at. Everyone had taken their leave, returning to whatever it was they were doing before someone brought the activity in the hangar to their attention. Everyone, that is, except Major Alenko.
Standing with his arms folded across his chest, Kaidan glowered down at James with a jealous rage that was clear as the neon turquoise and teal biotic tendrils flaring off of his body like solar flares from a blue sun.