Another mission, another night where she can't sleep. Dalana is due to return to duty soon, and selfishly, she can't wait. Not just for the reams of paperwork to vanish, but also maybe it will help ease the knots under shoulder plates. The base is quiet and empty in the night, the air slightly chilly but not unpleasantly so given she's wrapped up well. Near the shuttle bay across the road from where she's taking her midnight stroll, she notices an asari trying to sneak back to her quarters and failing as a result of trying. Tereena had heard a couple of commandos had arrived from Thessia as the asari had finally decided to lend a hand in the war. It was about damn time.

The rumours and news weren't good, as ever. Shepard and the Normandy were reportedly spotted near the Perseus Veil. It seemed an odd time to hare off into the geth-quarian conflict and whatever issues they had brewing, but you had to trust Shepard knew what she was doing. She generally did. Locally, the pace of the missions against the Cerberus presence has been hectic and exhausting, but at least they're making a difference. The resistance to their latest strikes has been noticeably weaker, and Cerberus evac shuttles have been noticed and even shot out of the sky at points. Still there, is more work to be done here.

Her stroll takes her to the square patch of grass that's kept free in the base. It's too modest to be called a park, but it's better than nothing. Usually it is quite busy during the day, but free in the evenings like tonight. Well free but for one person. He's sitting with his back to her on the bench, torso cradled over something she can't quite make out in the dark.

"Hey." She trails two talons over the nape of his neck, and shoulder, enjoying the warmth, and slight shiver that runs across him and jolts up her arm like a small electrical shock. They usually meet here on the nights before missions now, having come to a silent understanding that neither can sleep, and that each prefers the other's company to being alone. Sometimes he brings food, or drinks. Sometimes she does. Sometimes they talk. Sometimes they just sit in companionable silence.

"Hey." He glances up at her briefly, flashing a smile, but returns quickly back to whatever he has in his lap. She walks around the bench and sees it. It's a wooden object of some kind, rounded and broad at one end, and tapering to a narrow strut at the other, with some strings running along the main spar. Then, as she sits next to him, one of those long, dark fingers gently plucks a couple of strings, and liquid grace rises out of the instrument. So, this was what human music was played on. He looks up at her, grins again at the fascinated expression on her face as she stares at the instrument, then leans back and plays a series of notes, fingers dancing over the strings as if they had a life of their own.

The music is quite different to most turian music, softer and mellower and far more melodic. Of course, turian talons could never play an instrument like this.

"Keep going." Her eyes plead with him too.

"Sure. Whatever the lady wants." He's different with the instrument in his hands. Cockier, more self-assured. More in his element. He holds it with the easy experience of one who has been holding one for many, many years, and Tereena has to acknowledge that it is kind of a turn-on.

"Wait, before you start. What is it, and how did you get one?" She interrupted him with a brush of her talon on his forearm, his skin warm in the cool night air. She hadn't needed to do that. She couldn't help it.

"It's called a guitar. One of the local civvies had it, bought it off him for a few creds. Haven't played since I left the Academy. I own two back home." His voice is slightly dreamy as he runs his fingers over the wooden curves. There is love in that voice, in that gesture. She nods slowly, understanding. A regal incline of her head indicates he should start playing.

His fingers go back to plucking the strings, slowly at first, then faster. He bows his head in concentration as the first notes of the song float into the air. It is beautiful. She closes her eyes and lets the music surround her, silvery and warm like a blanket settling over her skin. She is unsurprised when he starts crooning along. Somehow, she knew he would sing too. His voice is soft but clear, and well in tune.

The words wash over her at first, she's just enjoying the music and company and the warm glow at the base of her stomach that is slowly spreading to the rest of her body. But then she tunes in to his words, what he's actually singing.

Back beat, the word was on the street

That the fire in your heart is out

Chills ran up her plates and she slid her eyes sideways to glance at him. He was still focussed on the…guitar, but she wondered how deliberate the song choice was.

I don't believe that anybody

Feels the way I do about you now

Words bubble up her throat, but stay there as the song winds itself around her, settling into skin and bones. His voice croons into the night, crystal and glass, like the skyscrapers of Cipritine.

And all the roads we have to walk are winding

And all the lights that lead us there are blinding

There are many things that I

Would like to say to you but I don't know how

This time she feels his eyes on her, and looks up to meet them, dark pools of liquid, fathomless, full of meaning. No one has looked like that at her in long time, If ever. She wonders if her eyes look the same to him.

Because maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me

And after all, you're my wonderwall

A slight breeze blows through the garden, sliding past the nape of her neck and against her fringe. She doesn't know this word 'wonderwall', which the translator software cannot find a match for. Later, she'll have to search its meaning on her omni-tool.

She stops, stops trying to analyse what is happening, stops trying to understand all the nuances and meaning. Time enough for that later. For now, she lets the song wash over her, lets his voice wash over her, the music surrounds them both, cocoons them in their own little world. It feels like a piece of heaven, mana that she hasn't tasted in an age, unlocking something inside her she didn't even know was locked up. Locked up so tight she had thrown away the key.

I said maybe, you're gonna be the one that saves me

You're gonna be the one that saves me

You're gonna be the one that saves me

She wondered if he was singing to her, or for her. The last of the notes from the song hung briefly between them, before shimmering away, and she could feel the spell he'd craft drifting away, bringing them back into the real world. She had no words. Her eyes glittered bright green with feelings checked by sheer force of habit.

He smiled at her, a small, almost sad smile, before getting up.

"Time for me to hit the sheets." Before she knew it, he'd turned to her, palm of his hand settling gently against her jaw thumb curving along the scar on her fringe, and she felt her breath quicken just a tad. He dropped his lips on her forehead, a simple brush on across the plate, and almost before it had begun it was over and he was stepping away from her. The loss of his physical proximity almost had her grabbing his wrist to bring him back.

"Good night, Tereena." He faded into the night.

Minutes passed.

"Good night, Dominic."

A/N: The song is Wonderwall by Oasis, and there are some amazing acoustic covers on youtube.