ETA: whoops i uploaded the wrong version, so here's the fixed one with some small changes to the convo with lexi.
A/N: murder mystery! in which reyes doesn't quite tell the full truth, sophie tells too much of the truth, and business and pleasure are thoroughly mixed. part two will be up within a few days!
also, can you believe this is the shortened version of my lovingly detailed description of sophie? i'm sorry. i made her too attractive and i am weak
Reyes was fairly certain that watching someone put clothes on wasn't supposed to be as exciting as it currently was.
Then again, he and Ryder certainly hadn't been taking their time when they'd been taking them off, and she was definitely moving with a deliberate slowness now. And Reyes, as predictable as he supposed he was, couldn't take his eyes off.
As for himself, he was already dressed. Not entirely — most of his light armor was still sitting on the other side of the room — but enough to be passable for a business negotiation. Which, this technically was; Ryder had walked in with that confident little swagger he'd noticed back when they'd first met in Kralla's Song, and she'd claimed to have questions about… Sloane, maybe? The Collective? Kadara in general? He couldn't quite remember what it was she'd wanted to ask, but they'd only gotten halfway through the first question when Ryder remembered that Reyes still owed her for their drinks a few days before.
He had to wonder how often Ryder conducted business with her clothes off, and if this was something he'd have to look forward to every time she stopped by.
And as far as the drinks were concerned, Reyes considered that debt thoroughly paid.
Ryder, perhaps, didn't, given the enticing and almost lazy way she seemed to be taking her time. She had her pants on, now, but as she stood — facing away from Reyes, towards the door — she stretched her arms over her head, letting out a satisfied little groan as she did. The muscles in her back and arms rippled and tightened as she moved, the warm brown of her skin almost glowing in the hazy red light of the Tartarus room. Reyes had been too distracted before to notice, but a tattoo ran down the length of Ryder's spine, a blocky, geometric pattern similar to the tattoo along her jawline.
She wasn't a petite woman, by any means. Ryder did stand nearly a full head shorter than Reyes — and he wasn't exactly tall himself — but she had a sturdy, stocky build that he hadn't fully noticed when she was clothed in her loose Initiative hoodie. Wide shoulders, strong hips, and—
Reyes' thoughts came to a full stop as Ryder reached back to re-do the clasp on her bra, muscles flexing then relaxing as her hands dropped back to her sides. He cleared his throat; there were clearly two options at this point, and only one followed the careful plan he'd been working on to get Ryder working for the Collective.
"So, you said you had some business to take care of?"
"Ooh, way to kill the mood," Ryder groaned. She turned to face Reyes, one eyebrow quirking upwards in amusement before she pulled her thin tank top over her head.
Reyes matched her grin. "I was under the impression we were finished…?"
Her head tilted to the side a bit, as if she were giving considerable thought to his unspoken offer. "Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure Dr. Lexi can sense when I have too much fun, and the last thing I need is to have her track me down and jab me with more needles." It was a sentence that Reyes was certain actually made sense to Ryder. Without hesitation, she plopped down onto the couch beside him, sitting sideways to face him with one leg propped up against the back and one arm slung across the cushions. "So… murders," she drawled, brow furrowing. "They happened."
Ah. He'd heard that there had been another murder in the Port, and he'd been hoping to earn Ryder's help with tracking down some solid evidence on the Roekaar. Well, Ryder and her fancy AI — Reyes suspected he'd need both to take any real action. Luckily, it didn't look like he was going to have to convince Ryder to pitch in with the investigation. "There have been a few—"
Ryder shushed him with a loud shh! "SAM's giving me the details. Again. Because, uh…" She glanced towards where her hoodie was still strewn on the table, and added quickly, "It's sorta slipped my mind." After a moment, she nodded and turned back towards Reyes. "It's not Sloane, I guess. Almost got into a fight with one of her guards over it. Or over guns. Or… there wasn't really a reason, I was just picking a fight. Anyway. Rumor is, it's the Charlatan's work?"
Reyes pursed his lips, forcing his expression into one that was thoughtful; he had to be careful, here, that he didn't unintentionally lead Ryder to follow the Collective angle. He couldn't encourage it, but if he was too adamant she'd go after it anyway and probably think he had something to hide.
Which, he did. She just didn't need to know it.
So, he settled for a quiet hmm and a frown. "The Charlatan? I don't think something quite so… overt fits them." Not a lie. "I have some contacts deep within the Collective." Also not a lie. "I'll reach out to them." That was a lie.
"Could it be Sloane?" Ryder asked, lips pressing into a thin line. A determined edge had begun to color her voice, and she seemed almost as frustrated as Reyes had been in the past few weeks, trying to tackle the investigation on his own. "She's not the sort to have a problem murdering people in the streets, and it wouldn't surprise me if she kept shit from the rest of the Outcasts."
Now that was amusing — the thought of Sloane doing something with any amount of duplicity. "No. Like you said, she doesn't have a problem murdering people in the streets. If it were her, she wouldn't keep it a secret."
"Well, then, just shoot down all my ideas, why don't you." Ryder rolled her eyes. "If you're so confident it isn't either of them, then who is it?"
"The Roekaar."
Ryder glanced up, surprise shining in her whiskey warm eyes. "You aren't supposed to actually have an answer."
Reyes smirked, pleased at having caught the otherwise unflappable Pathfinder off-guard. "I've been looking into the murders myself," he explained, "with some luck. I don't have enough hard evidence to please the Resistance, but I do have a navpoint for the most recent murder. Your AI could solve the problem for me." He didn't miss the flash of suspicion on Ryder's expression; while the SAM implants were hardly secrets, the full extent of their abilities were largely unknown to most of the Initiative personnel. Reyes himself still didn't even know what, exactly, a SAM could do, but had tracked down enough information to confirm that biometric analysis and detailed environmental scanning were well within Ryder's capabilities.
Maybe he'd had to call in one too many favors to get the information, but it would be worth it. Considering Ryder's easy success with the Resistance so far, Reyes was confident that she had both the resources and the skills to prove a real threat to Sloane — or, at the very least, to be a thorn in her side. Plus, the reckless way she'd threatened Kadara's current leader just made the situation that much better.
"Ah, I see," Ryder said with a knowing grin, "you're just using me for my fancy AI."
"You've caught me. But the Pathfinder that comes with it is a very nice bonus, at least."
Ryder shook her head at that, and laughed — she had a deep, throaty laugh that was as warm and inviting as the rest of her — before pulling her left foot up onto the couch to sit cross-legged. "I like you, Reyes. You've been good to work with, so far, and…" She paused, biting at her lower lip while her brow furrowed ever so slightly. "Being Pathfinder sucks. I mean, it's great, but it sucks, you know? Sometimes you just gotta go out and have some fun, and you've been pretty good for that, too."
"If you're ever up for more fun, you know where to find me." The words slipped out, thoughtless and automatic, and the wink that followed was almost as reflexive. Reyes managed to hold back a groan; it wasn't like he was going to retract the offer, but, well… At this point, the Pathfinder was just a risky investment, one piece in a considerably larger web of a plan, and Reyes didn't want to lose sight of Ryder's role in what would hopefully lead to Sloane's removal.
Although, if she wanted to make their relationship about pleasure as much as it was business, Reyes would be the last one to argue; he just had to keep his head on straight and not let one get in the way of the other.
"I'll keep that in mind." With another wide grin, Ryder stood, grabbing her hoodie and slinging it over one shoulder. "I'll go look into the murders. But just so you know — this puts you back in my debt."
Reyes held back the suggestive quip on the tip of his tongue; he was supposed to be keeping the focus on business now, wasn't he? "I consider us even, Ryder. You should know by now that you don't have many friends, here in Kadara."
"Bullshit, Vidal. I'm perfectly likable."
"Oh, I agree. But," he pointed out, "given most of the exiles' history with the Nexus, anyone from the Initiative is going to have to work twice as hard to earn any trust around here. Plus, you've already gone and made enemies with Sloane."
She frowned, beginning to look thoughtful. "So how does this make us even?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"After sex that good? I like to think that puts me at least in the 'casual acquaintance' category, if nothing else." As Reyes spoke, Ryder gave a wistful little nod as if to agree, though he couldn't be sure which part she agreed with. "You won't get Sloane back on your side, and most of the exiles care for little beyond credits. Me, though? I can give you information and advice, or even just be a friendly face in Kadara Port."
"Why?"
Honestly, Reyes hadn't even considered that Ryder was capable of this level of suspicion. "You're good to work with," he answered truthfully, mirroring Ryder's own words from earlier. "I also have a vested interest in seeing the Initiative on Kadara. Settlements and trade are always helpful in my line of work," he added.
Again, he wasn't really lying. Maybe he was leaving out a few things — like that he needed her help dethroning Sloane, or that putting an end to the murders would both improve Reyes' own standing with the resistance and undermine Sloane — but he was giving her everything she needed to know. Or needed to hear, maybe, because Reyes could admit to already knowing that appealing to both Ryder's ego and her loyalty to the Initiative was the best way to ensure her assistance.
As expected, Ryder simply shrugged. "I am pretty good," she pointed out. "Tell you what — I'll gather the crew, we'll head out tonight, and when we get back to celebrate, you're buying."
"Impress me, Ryder, and I'll gladly buy the drinks."
"Ryder, would you mind stopping by the medbay before you head back out?"
Muttering a few expletives beneath her breath as Lexi's voice came over the shipwide comms, Sophie motioned for Vetra and Peebee to go on ahead, turning on her heel and heading back through the Tempest. She'd gathered a ground team, filled them in on the situation with the murders, suited up, and had nearly made it out the airlock before being summoned by the doctor.
She'd been kidding, before, about Lexi being able to sense fun, but now Sophie was regretting even making such a comment.
"You called?" she asked brightly as she bounded into the medbay, pretending she had no idea where the conversation would go.
"SAM monitors your vitals, you know," Lexi began, not looking up from her datapad. "As your medical officer, I receive a readout, similar to what the life support systems in your hardsuit transmit. It is, however," she paused for a fraction of a second, her tone sharpening as she glanced up towards Sophie, "somewhat more detailed."
Sophie rolled her eyes. "Yes, I had sex. Yes, I was smart about it. And yes, it was very good. Anything else?"
With a drawn out sigh, Lexi placed the datapad on her desk. "I'm not your mother, Sophie. I'm not here to judge or restrict you. I am, however, your doctor, which makes this my business — however much we both dislike it — and while sex in a seedy nightclub in a town full of criminals is entirely in line with your normal behavior, I still have to express my concerns over it."
"I get that. But, look— this isn't the first time I've done something like this, and it won't be the last. I might be stupid, but I'm smart about it, okay?" Sitting down on one of the beds, Sophie gave an exaggerated shrug and tried to hide the frown that was beginning to form; hoping she didn't sound petty or ungrateful, she asked, "Is this doctor Lexi who's asking, or psychologist Lexi?"
One of them would be appreciated, and the other…
Lexi had become something of a confidant for Sophie, someone she knew she could talk to without reprimand — mostly because it was Lexi's job, and thoughts were easier to admit and feelings were easier to work through when it was the Pathfinder speaking to a psychologist, not Sophie speaking to a friend. Which Lexi was, but it was still harder to speak with her when it wasn't through the facade of professionalism.
"It's both. And your friend is concerned about what brought this on."
"No psychoanalysis?" Sophie bartered, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"I can't promise that," Lexi admitted, then offered, "but we can hold off on discussing it."
That was good enough for her. "Look, I know it 'fits my psych profile' or whatever, but I don't make a habit of sleeping around with people I don't even know, so it's probably not as reckless or concerning as you think it is. I'm guessing by this point you've heard about the Resistance contact? The one Evfra set us up with?" Lexi nodded, and Sophie continued, "Best. Contact. Ever. He's unbelievably good looking, he's got a comeback for just about everything I throw at him, and he has amazing taste in whiskey. And his voice, Lexi, his voice." She would've been embarrassed, at least to some extent, at the way she was rambling and nearly gushing about Reyes, but she took comfort in the assurance of patient-doctor confidentiality and the fact that Lexi had already heard worse from her. "He's the goddamn definition of charming."
Lexi was quiet for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line. "I see," she said finally. "You've found a kindred spirit, it seems. Goddess help us."
"Hang on, Doc, is that just a roundabout way of saying I'm charming?" Sophie grinned, glad that Lexi seemed to be refraining from any critical comments despite how clear it was that she was making mental notes that would no doubt come up later. It wasn't a discussion Sophie was looking forward to; one of her early psych evals aboard the Tempest, while she had still been thoroughly smitten with Suvi, had embarrassed her enough to last a lifetime. "But, you're right, I think." She hesitated. "But I needed this. Reyes has been… fun, so far. A reminder that not everything in Andromeda has to be all doom and gloom all the time."
"So you do occasionally take things seriously."
"Only when I have no other choice."
With a wry smile, Lexi shook her head. "You make my job rather difficult, sometimes. I am glad you've found a way to relax — you're right, you do need it — but I also believe there are better methods. Is your—"
Sophie cut her off before she could say anything further, standing and holding a hand out. "Nope, no psychoanalysis, remember? We can do the doom and gloom later. I've got some murders to solve." She gave a cheery goodbye — ignoring Lexi's sigh — and headed back through the ship to catch up with Vetra and Peebee.
The rest of the ground team was already down in the slums, waiting at the edge of the ceasefire zone and arranging for weapons to be sent down along with the Nomad. Sophie took advantage of the inevitable wait to slip into Tartarus, knowing she didn't have much time but wanting to give Reyes a heads up that they were heading out to the murder scene.
She knocked, waiting somewhat impatiently at the door to his private room. No answer. She knocked again, and this time was met with an annoyed response. "I'm not taking clients today."
"Clients?" Sophie echoed, amused. "I don't recall paying you this morning, but I'm sure we can work something out for next time."
The door hissed open almost immediately, revealing Reyes and an idling vidcomm. "Ryder," he offered as a greeting. "I wasn't expecting you to stop by so soon. Unfortunately," he added, a grin slowly creeping across his lips as his eyes raked over Sophie, "I'm in the middle of some rather time-sensitive business."
Placing her hands on her hips, Sophie took a moment to relish in the desire that was clearly beginning to form in Reyes' eyes. "I take it you like a girl in uniform."
He shrugged. "In uniform, out of it — I'm not picky."
"I'll keep that in mind, then," she promised, before turning her attention back to the reason she'd come in the first place. "But I also have business — we're going to check out that navpoint you sent. The one for the murders. Figured you'd want to tag along, but if you're busy we could always just patch you into our comms."
Reyes looked thoughtful, fingers tapping along the edge of the table as he glanced from Sophie to the vidcomm. "Yes," he agreed slowly, drawing the word out. "That would be best, I think. I wasn't expecting you to investigate this so quickly, but…" He trailed off, still staring at the vidcomm.
"Good?" The word came out more as a question than a statement; Sophie had no idea what about the situation was unsettling Reyes. "I mean, we can wait for the next murder, if it's more convenient."
"No, it's not a problem." Reyes looked up, expression once again smoothed out into one free of concern. "I have some arrangements to make, is all. Now, what do you say we get to the bottom of this so we can get back to the fun part of this association, hmm?"
