Inevitably, it's the birthday girl, Nandita, that asks the question.
It's late, and there's only one other group left in the bar: three of the facility's security techs poring over some datapads and arguing, pounding empty beer glasses for emphasis. They're saying things that shouldn't be said in the open, at least not by people who are supposed to be concerned with improving security. One of them wants vulnerable equipment replaced. Another thinks there's not enough evidence to justify the expense. The third can't resist weighing in on both sides of the argument.
Kaidan has had too much to drink. He knows that, and he knows he should just get up and go. Especially with this question hanging in the air. This question, coming from one of his squad leaders, one of his students, who has, also, had too much to drink—far too much—on this, the momentous occasion of her twenty-first birthday. God. They're so young.
It's not like he owes her an answer, anyway. He doesn't owe answers to anyone. Owes nothing to anyone, except, maybe—
"Yes," he says. The word echoes in his mind. Yes. Yes. He takes a deep breath. "We were, as you say... lovers."
"Wow." Nandita sits back. "Cool."
"What's he really like?" That's Brendan. His eyes are calm. No hint that he's been throwing back single-malts all evening. He's stopped drinking, though. Now his index finger is idly tracing the rim of his empty glass.
Kaidan looks down into his own glass. What's he really like. How is he supposed to answer that?
The ice cubes have almost melted down to nothing. He takes a swallow. There's still alcohol in there.
They're all looking at him, all except for Randall, who's been asleep face down on the table for the last half hour, emitting gusty snores that are making discarded mint sprigs and cherry stems tremble.
"He's..." He can't find the words. Can't find the thoughts. He can see Shepard's face, the slow curl of his lips, the heat in his eyes. Sees it so clearly. But he can't think. It's the leaden, alcohol-fueled throbbing in his head. The tightness in his throat. A migraine coming on.
"He's... he's a good guy." Shakes his head. What the fuck. What a fucking stupid thing to say.
Brendan coughs. It's his I was about to say something but I thought better of it cough. He's polite. He's got good instincts. Good skills too. And he knows how to use them under pressure. All that in one package? He could go far. His mother was a shuttle pilot, retired now. Got an older brother's who's something... Police chief? Something like that, something police-ish. In... Toronto?
Somebody's saying something. Nandita's voice. Kaidan doesn't hear the words. No, not Toronto. That's where they were born, but his brother lives in New York. That's right. Third Precinct. Or maybe the Thirteenth? Damn. He should know this.
There's some kind of commotion going on. Brendan's looking embarrassed, and Lilian has a horrified stare on her face. Her hand is clamped onto Nandita's arm, nails digging into the skin. That's going to leave marks. Not for the first time, Kaidan wonders if there's fraternization going on there. But what if there is? It's not like he's going to do anything about it. It would be the worst kind of hypocrisy.
He blinks. "What was that?"
"Just... pretend you didn't hear that, sir." Lilian smiles uncomfortably. "Nandita's... just saying stuff. You know."
Yeah. He does know. Nandita talks a lot. All the time. Not big on protocol, either. She's got a fantastic kick, though. Throws hard. Just needs better control. Hah. Doesn't everyone.
"I didn't hear."
Lilian looks relieved. She's got old-fashioned golden good looks, like the film stars of the last century. Always so poised. Pulled together. Of the four, she seems the oldest. But she isn't, not by a long shot. She's got two sisters in the service, too. The first one's a medic, but for the life of him Kaidan can't remember what the second one does.
"That's okay," Nandita says. "I don't mind repeating myself." She slaps Lilian's hand away, and continues. "So, you guys broke up, right? Can't really call it breaking up, 'cause he died, or whatever. But how come you didn't get back together? Do you still love him?"
Nandita's father is a diplomat. Ironic, really. Or maybe not. There are many kinds of diplomacy.
Kaidan finishes his drink, and closes his eyes again. Slumps down further in his chair, and leans his head back. To his left he can hear Lilian whispering furiously. He catches the words birthday and excuse and shitfaced. A little later, he hears constant insubordination and court-martial your ass and he laughs out loud.
"It's alright," he says. "Not gonna court-martial your ass." He opens his eyes, stares at the ceiling.
The red eye of a security camera blinks back at him. He can't see the model number from here, but there's a good chance they're all the same and it's what the techs were talking about. Ineffective shielding? It's worth a shot. He lifts an arm and sights along it, squinting. The merest biotic touch, tight-beamed at the left side of the power assembly, and the light winks out. He snorts. Terrible. Those should be replaced.
He drops his gaze back down to the table, avoiding three pairs of eyes.
Do you still love him? It's not the first time he's asked himself that question. On the promenade, watching Garrus Vakarian count the waves. And a hundred times since.
"I don't know," he says. Under his breath, almost. But they all hear it.
He told Garrus it wasn't over. And it isn't. It's not over till his answer is no. Till Shepard's answer is no. He's afraid of Shepard's answer. Either way.
There were other questions, there at the waterfront. Could you love him, after all that's happened? Can you afford to? Can you take that risk, if you doubted him before? Can you love him even if he doesn't love you? If he loves someone else?
He has the feeling he knows what his answer to those questions is. Or at least what he wants his answer to be. Masochistic tendencies. They'll get you every time, Alenko.
There's silence at the table. He closes his eyes. He can still see Shepard there, that smile on his lips. Only now he's smiling at Garrus. And they're both reaching back for their sniper rifles, unholstering them, holding them out, side by side, comparing. Different equipment, but just as effective. They have a lot in common, those two. More now than ever. And, of course, they've had the advantage of time.
"You don't know if you love him? Well... that's okay, right? I mean, you can still have... a physical relationship? I mean, it doesn't always have to be for forever or whatever— I mean, everyone has needs— Was it good? The sex?"
"Christ, Nandita. Shut the fuck up already."
A chair scrapes against the floor, and all the glasses rattle. Brendan is half standing, his hands on the table, cheeks flushed. Kaidan's never heard him swear before. Not even under the carefully-orchestrated stresses of the time trials last month. He must be a lot more drunk than he looks, to get so worked up over a question that's not even addressed to him. That's... kinda funny.
The headache seems to be easing a little. It doesn't hurt—it doesn't hurt more—when he laughs.
Why the hell not. He sits up and leans forward. "The sex was great. Not just great. Really great." He gnaws contemplatively on a knuckle. "And I have high standards, in case you're wondering."
Nandita grins. "Aww. That's so sweet. Isn't that sweet, Lil?" She tries an elbow dig, and misses. Lilian shakes her head.
Brendan's sitting back down. He's got a strange expression on his face, one that seems vaguely familiar. Surprise? Some kind of... respect? Wait. He recognizes it now. Hell, hang around Shepard for any length of time... half the people he talks to wear that expression.
Oh, god.
Brendan's gotta know that's not happening. No way. Not with a student. Fuck, no.
Nobody's talking. Nandita seems to have run down, and looks like she's about to fall asleep. Kaidan lets his eyes lose focus, stares into the distance and listens to the conversation on the other side of the room. The tech who wanted more evidence has won the argument. What's with the monitoring systems? The latest data point should have shown up by now.
He fights the lassitude and stands. "Time to go."
Lilian shakes Randall by the shoulder, waking him up. Between her and Nandita they manage to get him to his feet without anyone getting thrown up on.
Brendan lingers behind as the others walk unsteadily out the door. He touches Kaidan's arm. And asks, softly, at the edge of hearing, "Did you ever love him?"
It's the question no-one's ever asked. Arguably, the most important question of all. What we had—was that love? Kaidan doesn't know the answer to this one, either.
He turns, looks into Brendan's eyes. Pale green eyes. There's a lot to see there. Beauty, of course. A limpid, honest beauty. Recognition. Courage. Hope. An offer. It's far too generous an offer. And yet—
It's not enough. So very far from enough.
He nods, just once. He knows Brendan will understand what this nod means, and that it means yes, but also, more importantly, no.
Brendan bites his lip and looks away. Kaidan lays a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently; watches the rueful smile, then the shrug. Hey, it was worth a shot.
Yes, it was.
They walk on in silence. Not an awkward silence. Kaidan glances at the man beside him, and feels the smile spreading over his own face.
Many kinds of diplomacy, and many kinds of love.