AN: Thanks to everyone who has been supportive and warm towards Without Saying. I hope to continue writing these little ReyesxRyder snippets while I try to cobble together the ideas for a larger piece.
I'll continue to provide little details about how (and who) I think Reyes was before Andromeda as well as introduce Ryder's many facets a little more each time as well.
And yes, that is a not-so-subtle Star Wars reference ;)
In the meantime - I hope you enjoy the newest little addition!
Best,
Voi
Reyes can tell from the moment that he sees her that it's going to be a fun night.
Oh, not his usual type of fun, that sort of thing requires significantly fewer inhibitions (no more than three drinks) and a bit of naughty creativity. But from the small scowl on her lips and the distrustful way she scans the shadow-dipped corners of the bar, Reyes figures he can at least have a laugh.
It has been a long time since he's seen this brand of soldier around Kadara.
And she is a soldier, so much so that she practically smells of it. He wonders if she complained at having to leave her weapons on the ship, but by the easy way her hands are hanging at her side he figures she'll be just as deadly without.
He can't remember the last time he felt compelled to snap to a salute, and thankfully the urge is nowhere to be found. But it is unsettling to be reminded of his not-so-distant past, a time when that rigidity had been part of his everyday life.
Never again.
He shakes off the thought with a frown, finding his expression warming immediately when he overhears the complaints of one very grumpy krogan and Umi's usual brand of Kadaran hospitality.
Grinning by the time he he arrived at the bar, Reyes does not even pause to order his usual before calling to the woman, the Pathfinder , and getting his night started.
"You look like you're waiting for someone."
The drinks are in his hands a moment later and he offers the edge of one, smile already tugging on his lips when he sees her stiffen.
"Not interested." Her tone is firm, but not rude. Professional.
Reyes can read her from a mile away, and he downs both drinks without qualm, enjoying the bitter whisky as it slides down his throat. This is technically a business meeting so he's only allowed one more, best to save it for something good.
"Shena." He smiles when he catches the flash of surprise across her features, "You can call me Reyes. I hate code names."
The irony of course is that he has a penchant for them.
Not all aspects of his past are so easily shed.
"I was expecting someone more...angaran." She speaks quietly so as not to be overheard, but there's no mistaking the trace of embarrassment in her voice.
Capitalizing on that, Reyes extends his hand and she takes it firmly in her own, shaking it with a firm sort of strength that reminds him of her tone.
Professional, indeed.
And yet...
"The Resistance pays me to supply them with information, among other things." Reyes admits, liking the way she looks by turns impressed (he can just imagine the issue she's had with Evra) and suspicious.
She's 100% Alliance all right, from the tidy state of her hair to the pin-straight state of her clothing. There's not even the slightest sign that she's trying to mask that blinding (foolish) desire to do good always . Ugh .
"You're a smuggler."
Her words are an accusation, but Reyes finds that he rather likes it when she sounds put out.
Brows lifting in mock surprise, he allows himself to enjoy the way he has her immediate and undivided attention.
"I am?"
To be fair, he's never really considered himself a smuggler , but then he doesn't think she'll appreciate the difference if he argues the subtleties. Really he is more an connoisseur of rare (and yes, somewhat illegal) acquisitions.
"You are ." And this time she nods, so involved that she follows him to the window that overlooks the docks
"I am not so sure." Tapping his chin, he grins when her brow furrows and she tries to understand what else he could be. For such a prim little thing, she is incredibly expressive.
"You're not sure?" She repeats his words while she mentally examines them, trying to unravel it like a little mystery. It allows him the time to visual peruse, to linger over her fine features and appreciate a figure that he has no qualms with noticing.
"You're staring."
"You're worth staring at." He shrugs.
"This is a distraction, right?" She folds her hands over her chest, "Trying to get out of answering my question."
"What was the question again?" He feints another look of innocence just to watch her scowl.
"What in the world are you?!"
Reyes smiles winningly, "Why, a scoundrel, of course."
"A scoundrel ?!" She sounds even more horrified than when she suggested smuggler .
And this time Reyes does laugh, a great lusty one that leaves him holding tightly to the handrail to avoid falling over. What a surprise, this woman, a little innocent beneath that deceptively cold exterior.
"Indeed." Reyes says, when he's finally able to catch his breath, "A scoundrel is what I am."
He adds with a wink, "And something tells me you're in the market for one."
"I'm not in the market at all!" She protests, mistaking his meaning as her face floods with color. "And besides, I happen to like nice men ."
"Nice men?"
And that is when Reyes knows he has no intention of letting her out of his sight for as long as she's poking around Kadara. Not when there's so very much to learn about charming Pathfinder Ryder.
"Oh my dear, there are clearly not enough scoundrels in your life. But not to worry, I am happy to assist."