7 – Playing Nice
"Commander, it's looking good," Dr Hale tells me, checking her omni-tool. "I was able to completely visualise the blown nodes and make the repair as non-invasive as possible. More of a scratch than a bullet wound."
"Didn't feel like it," I murmur, mesmerised by the skycars flying above the Presidium from the view out of the recovery room window.
The back of my head is still numb from the procedure, but the sedative wore off quickly. No searing pain, no feeling of impending biotic implosion, no nagging headache – and all in the time it takes to clean a rifle. Makes sense if you think about it.
"Will it work like before? Will I be as good?" I ask, verbalising the fear that has been needling at me since I felt that searing pain seize me at the reactor.
"Absolutely. I'd be easy on the biotics over the next few days. Give the repair time to heal and your biotics time to reboot without overheating," she advises.
"That should be manageable," I tell her with relief, standing up and offering my hand. "Thank you, Doctor."
"Thank you, Commander," she says, heartily shaking my hand. "For everything you're doing."
I can't bring myself to say anything to her without feeling like a fraud – given that I blew out my implant having sex with a known criminal.
So I nod and smile gratefully, taking my leave.
First person I notice in the waiting room is that very same criminal element. Mostly because she's the only Asari in an Alliance biotic clinic.
Walking past her, I incline my head in the direction for her to follow. She looks amused at my command.
I sneak us into an alcove, right before the glass doors to the elevator where my friends will be waiting.
"What are you doing here?" I ask abruptly, looking over my shoulder to see who's waiting for me.
"No one's here," she says with mock disappointment. "Normandy got tagged with 'random' dock inspection. All crew back on deck."
I can only look witheringly at this relentless creature.
Part of me thought she'd be done with me. She got what she wanted, the chase wouldn't thrill as much. But then, to be Aria T'Loak: eyes everywhere and fist that reaches even further... I know there's only a few people she trusts. And one of them is a Batarian. Despite my contentious history with the race, I don't think there's a species on the Citadel that would fancy them.
"I'm not having sex with you again," I tell her bluntly. "You blew out my bio implant."
"Sorry, Shepard. I just couldn't stop myself," she laughs. "I forget how breakable your kind is."
"The implant, not me," I tell her, the laughter irritating me. "I'm unbreakable."
"That sounds like a challenge to me. And I always rise to a challenge," she says, enjoying herself.
"I'm serious, Aria – I was in the middle of a mission before I realised - I just had to have brain surgery," I say, not letting up. She still can't wipe the smile from her face.
"Relax Shepard, you're part cyborg at this point anyway."
"I can't have brain surgery every time you role-play Ardat Yakshi while I'm in the middle of a war," I hiss.
She tries to assuage my annoyance with a warm hand on my cheek, thumb trailing over my lips.
"I can be gentle, Shepard," she says soothingly. "You don't believe me? You think it's only sheltered little archaeologists that can make love?"
My muscles tense at the mention of her. She knows it. Aria plays dirty.
"I can make love," she whispers into my ear. "And I can enjoy it."
"Has to be seen to be believed," I say, daring myself.
"Come over to mine tonight. I'll make it up to you," she offers. "I'll wine you. I'll dine you. And I'll tuck you up in bed, nice and early."
She looks to me, trying to gauge how successful her seduction has been. She grins, gratified by my silent acceptance.
"You remember the address?"
I nod. She slides past me out of the alcove, making sure I feel the heat of her body, to leave through the glass doors.
"Shepard," she calls back. "Resist the urge to wear your uniform. Or armour."
–
I'm in a towel, hair soaking, having just showered in my cabin when I hear my main door open and a voice calling out.
"Shepard, are you in here?"
Keep forgetting to lock it.
There's only one person who would come up unannounced anyway.
Maybe that's why I keep forgetting.
"In here, Liara," I tell her.
She follows the sound of my voice to her barely covered Commander. I think the awkwardness strikes us both at the same time.
"Sorry, Shepard, I didn't realise. That was rude of-" she says, turning around. Could be to not see me, or so I can't see her.
It's interesting, her reaction, considering a week ago she was salving up my bare body. I think she was in a clinical mindset – very clear, very professional. Just as she has been when helping disperse my excess biotic energy safely the past few days.
But I can't say it doesn't give me a little kick to know that she still regards me that way. Whether that's as part of all bare flesh in the galaxy that she'd be embarrassed to be around, or mine in particular, I don't know.
"It's OK, Liara," I say, stepping back into the bathroom to get some spare (and unfortunately unwashed) clothes
"I'm sorry I wasn't at the clinic, Shepard," Liara says, a little louder than she needs to. "There was meant to be a customs inspection of cargo and crew."
"I heard," I say with my back to her, slipping on my hoody and pants.
"C-Sec dock inspectors didn't," she says pointedly. "They had no record of it. I checked their systems after waiting for three hours."
"At least we don't need to spend a week reorganising everything they pulled out in the inspection," I say, avoiding her gaze while heading to my bedside to pull on some fresh socks. "Plus, they'd have tried to seize Javik as an unregistered species and we'd have a lot of dead primitives to explain."
"Suppose you're right," Liara says reluctantly, coming down to meet me. "How did it go? The surgery? How are you feeling?"
"It was a minor thing," I reply. "Turns out it was just-"
I freeze when I feel a hand on the back of my neck. The intimate contact from her is jarring. But she's just pulling up my wet hair to view the area where my implant is, which is covered by a small circle of tightly sealed dressing.
"Can I?" she says gently.
"Go ahead," I say, trying to keep my cool.
I feel her pull back the dressing. She stays silent while she inspects it.
"I can barely see an incision," she remarks, impressed, as she reseals the site. "It's excellent work."
"Yeah, I'll be fine," I say, trying to shrug away the shudders travelling down my spine.
I make the mistake of looking up at her, with her hand still on the back of my neck. She forgets herself for an instant; I think she's enjoying being in close comforting contact with me.
Until she breaks the moment, withdrawing her hand and purposefully moving away from my bedside.
She casts an eye around my cabin. There are several things she could see. There's the strapped black high heels (or as high as I can manage) just peeking out on the other side of the bed. A make-up case sitting on my desk, with rarely used contents spilling out of it. An illogically small bag on the left side (what was her side) of the bed.
And there's my dress, hanging up by the shower. I'm using the old Earth trick of my people to make it look less like it's been crushed at the bottom of a crate, since I was taken to answer to Alliance command and all my stuff was cleared out of my ship. Y'know, just before Reapers attacked and I was unfortunately vindicated in everything I stood for.
I stand up, hoping to distract her with movement. But she just looks at me, up and down. I imagine she's taking in every detail, every clue...
I am so paranoid.
If I'm this paranoid, I probably shouldn't be doing it.
"Going somewhere?" she supposes.
"Few drop-offs," I shrug, hoping to convince her with my nonchalant attitude. "Then Vega said he'd buy me a drink."
"At Purgatory?"
"Seems to be where all the kids hang out these days," I laugh weakly.
"Yes. Does seem to be," she murmurs, looking up to the bathroom. She probably sees the dress. Probably knows it's my only decent dress. Also probably remembers it from the floor of this very cabin the night she came over last year.
God I hope she doesn't conclude that there's something going on between me and Vega...
"And now your implant's fixed, how long do you imagine we'll be docked at the Citadel before our next mission?"
"Making plans?" I ask curiously. I have no right to be, but still.
"I'd like to spend some time with my father," she replies, somewhat coldly.
"Oh, of course, yeah. Well – Going to give the guys shore leave tomorrow. And ship out the next. Think that should be enough time for my implant to take by the time we get to the Far Rim," I shrug. "That enough time for you and Aethyta?"
"I'll see if she's available," Liara says, turning to her omni-tool to send a message. Illuminated by the orange haptic interface, no line on her face betrays emotion.
God, she is so good at hiding things. Clearly, I'm really not.
–
AN - First chapter of double chapter day for the holiday festivities (or more just because this was one huge chapter, split thematically into two - so a bit of a cheat, really). Chapter 8 should be along shortly.
Thank you to all who have left reviews before. I really appreciate it, knowing that some folks are along for the ride as well... :)