Author's Note: So, before I get down to the battles, blood and gore of this story. .I figured I'd make our little Spanish grunt more of a complex character than he actually was in the game, at least in some aspects. More to come, I enjoy writing from Vega's perspective - it's considerably imaginative since his scenes and lines were few and far in-between, but if there had been a REAL romance option I'd assume things would follow along these lines. Oh, also forgot to mention that I don't own any of the characters mentioned; they all belong to the people at Bioware. Lucky fucks.
Chapter 2 : Little lies
Okay, so he was lying - big time. He was just a mouse in a maze ever searching for just a whiff of cheese.
Round a corner, and right into a dead end.
"The bed is alot harder than it looks."
Woah, what the hell did that mean? Was that an open invitation, or had he finally lost his fucking mind?
"Are you flirting with me, Lola?"
Scratch that. He was on a sinking ship about to drown in shark infested waters, screw the damn mouse. If she didn't shred him apart, surely she'd at least throw him a life line, right?
She smirked and rolled her eyes, those glorious verde eyes that sparkled with azul as bright as Earth's sky, as if to say, you wish soldier...And boy, did he ever wish. He reminded himself ever day that she was just another soldier like him, flesh and blood like him, a woman with desires and needs no different than his own, and yet he couldn't forget her rank. But he'd be damn if she didn't fill out a uniform better than any female grunt he'd ever come into contact with.
James honestly couldn't believe he'd been able to formulate a complete and correct sentence in English, never mind his second language, but there it was a question he couldn't take back. The words hung in the air for a moment, obvious tension swirling around the small cabin like a hurricane. This wasn't the first time that she'd left him guessing, left him wondering if maybe he did have a shot with his Commander, as unlikely as it sounded, her behaviour left room for interpretations. Though he had to admit; it took real big cajones to say that shit out loud - even as a half-hearted joke or lame attempt to be smooth.
There's a sudden transformation in her face, an impishness that he can't quite place, but causes his blood to boil red hot within his veins. The looks she gives him sends his imagination on a field day - there the two of them are, casually flirting and tossing back dirty innuendos with each other until he reaches his breaking point. He aggressively pushes her against the fish tank and consumes every inch of her mouth; finally claiming it as his own. His hand, rough, calloused, roaming up and down the lines of her beautiful curves which at the moment are safe behind the layers of her uniform. .
She clears her throat; bringing him sadly back to reality. "I'm going, I'm going." he reponds, defeat constricting his chest. It's better this way, he convinces himself as he retreats back to the safety of the cargo bay. On the eve of a mission they couldn't afford any distractions, not like his little obsessive daydreams weren't distracting enough, he didn't need the added pressure of having a conversation with the Commander that he definitely wasn't ready to have. He'd never be able to focus if shit really hit the fan, and what did he expect? For her to openly welcome him into her bed, take him as her lover while there was a war going on? Talk about terrible timing. Fuck.
He entered the elevator and descended back down into the depths of Normandy. With a small chime of the elevator, his arrival was annouced but luckily only Esteban remained - still tinkering away as always during down time. Steve tossed him a look over his shoulder, a less than subtle I told you so..and he sure as hell didn't want to hear that shit.
Estupido.
Here he was fawning over her like some love sick puppy. It was written all over his face, and he felt like doing nothing but brooding. "Pathetic," he muttered, making his way back to his workbench, his sanctuary. One thing he likes about Esteban is that he doesn't pry, he knows when to leave well enough alone. Torturing him on matters of the heart wasn't his style, losing love taught him more than enough about not taking life and romance for granted.
How the hell was someone as unworthy as him suppose to charm some one like Commander Shepard, damn, and it wasn't like he was the only single, eligible male on this ship, so where the hell did that leave him?
James remembered first hearing about Commander Shepard, the hero of the Citadel; destoryer of the Collector base. At the time he hand't even considered doing much of anything with his life, or with his rank, but he could recall the rumors, the gossip, and the lies that spread like wild fire about this amazing woman. No one had listend to her warnings of the Reapers during the battle of the Citadel, not even after she'd defeated Saren and was branded a goddamn legend did anyone attempt to hear her out. Then came the Collectors, agents of the Reapers, raiding colonies of millions if not thousands of people. . which led to that damn mission where he lost his entire squad, and for what? Data? Information that Shepard had already devulged to the entire fucking galaxy, but would anyone listen. No. Nada. Fucking puntos.
He dove back into working; occupying his hands before he broke something valuable - though he'd feel justifed considering his dilemma. He'd be lying if he said she wasn't his reason for being as driven as he was, he'd be lying if he said that wasn't why he had the hots for her. She defied all odds, stood up for what she believed in, took charge and fought back, and man if it wasn't sexy ass hell. And not to mention how great her tight little ass looks in armor, especially during a mission while he's flanking her on the field elbows deep in gun fire. James would never share that little detail with anyone, and he makes sure to be as subtle as possible - it's like his abuela told him, "hell hath no fury, like a woman's scorn" - and the Commander already scared him shitless, which was in some aspects part of her appeal, but he didn't need another ass kicking from her.
On the other hand; however, he'd be lying if he said it wouldn't be worth it. He imagined ripping off her scivies and spanking that nice taut ass, just to feel how smooth and perfect the skin there truly was. He'd be also lying if he hadn't already imagined plunging deep inside her from behind, hot and wet, demanding her full attention and proving to her that he was worthy of a woman like her.
He shook his head - dismissing the primitive male urges that yearned to be fulfilled - now was the time to focus. His head needed to be in the game. Commander Shepard deserved soldiers who could contribute noting but the best, that's where his focus should tuly lie.
James grunted and tossed his work aside, unable to complete anything. He'd turn in for the night, hoping sleep would bring his mind some clearity that keeping himself otherwise occupied hadn't, and maybe talk to Estaban in the morning about all of this. Not to actually pursue anything, but to get all of this off his mind.
Un idiota.
He was turning into a real chickenshit these days. All these little lies he'd perfectly stitched together to prevent his feelings from consuming him, seemed now to be bursting at the seams, and he didn't know what the fuck to do.
