She knocked lightly on the door, though she knew it would slide habitually open as soon as she did. She shifted a mug out of the crook of one elbow, where she had stashed it. "Knock, knock," she announced politely, hovering near the door until Thane motioned her in. He did so, waving over his shoulder.
"Come in, Shepard," he encouraged.
"Brought you tea," she offered as she approached, setting a mug down in front of him. She had sought out Gardner, the Mess Sergeant, to find out what she should bring him, and he'd said the drell had specifically brought the tea along with him and instructed the cook how to prepare it. He took a mug every day. She saw the opportunity for brownie points, which she was in desperate need of after their fight the other day. "Mind if I sit down?" she asked.
"Not at all," he replied. "Thank you for the tea."
"Don't mention it," she replied, waving the statement away. She looked oddly sheepish for a moment. This was the third such visit she had made, but she was starting to think that no matter how many times she visited him she would still feel a bit awkward over the whole thing. He seemed completely at ease, which was handy because generally it annoyed her enough to snap her out of her nervousness and get her talking.
This time, it got her to pay attention to her tea. She figured she would try it, since Thane thought it was so good. She wasn't expecting anything great, but at least she could say she had made the effort to expand her horizons a little. Then she could put off trying anything new again for another six months or so. She raised the mug to her lips and took a swig.
And nearly choked. She coughed at the strong, earthy taste, covering her mouth with her forearm as her eyes watered. "Good God!" she said when she could speak, setting the mug down heavily. Thane, however, smirked at her in amusement.
"It takes some getting used to," he warned her belatedly, even as she struggled to get control of her coughs.
"No kidding," she replied, tapping her chest lightly. Well, so much for that idea. She crossed her arms on top of the table with the intent of ignoring the drink, but Thane set his own mug down determinedly. He reached across the table and pulled her hands back around the mug.
"Go slower," he instructed, pressing her to lift the mug to her lips again. "Inhale." He took his own mug and demonstrated, lifting it just beneath his nose. She hesitantly copied him, breathing in the smell of the tea – apparently, not to his satisfaction. "Close your eyes," he instructed, and she did so, taking another deeper breath.
The tea had an incredibly pungent odor, one she couldn't place but which was probably closest to moist earth or tree bark back on Earth, mixed with something heavy and smokey like tobacco leaves, and a clear, bright scent like menthol or mint. She tried to distinguish all the subtle influences but they were foreign to her, mere imitations of things she knew. After a few breaths she realized that the combination wasn't all that unpleasant, and her breathing became distinctly easier, fuller. She opened her eyes gradually.
"Now, take a sip, slowly," he instructed. She did so, glancing at him over the top of her mug as she went. The effect of the drink was distinctly different this time, and though the taste was still strong she had got to know it better now and wasn't taken by surprise. She thoughtfully considered the texture of the drink as she swallowed, like lightweight liquid sandpaper, pulpy but not with any pulp she had ever tasted before. The warmth and vapor of the drink opened her airways all the way to her chest, and she breathed in deeply at the effects.
She understood now why he drank it – medicinal, rather than just taste. Her green eyes jumped up to his but swiftly lowered back to the table as she set the mug back down. She didn't offer any opinion on it. Truthfully, after considering his reasons for drinking it in the first place she found she didn't have anything at all to say about it.
He set his mug down as well, mirroring her actions, and because he was too polite to broach a subject she didn't want to discuss the silence between them lengthened.
She was the first to come up with a topic to break it. "We're on our way to Omega," she offered, lifting her cup to her mouth for another lengthy sip. He nodded at her, leaving his own mug untouched.
"What takes us there?" he asked.
"Samara," she explained. "There's a criminal there she's been chasing down for nearly four hundred years." Her eyes slid away and she considered her words, before adding, "Actually, I came here to ask your help with that."
He tilted his head to the side curiously. "I'm happy to help," he began. "What are the details?"
"Samara's case is... sensitive," she explained, looking Thane right in the eye. "The criminal Samara's searching for is her daughter."
Thane blinked, his chin lifting as he took the information in. Shepard continued, "She's powerful and incredibly dangerous. I have a feeling this mission will require both delicacy and stealth." She tilted her head in his direction. "Fortes of yours." He bent his head in acknowledgment of the compliment.
"Besides," she added, perhaps more to justify her actions to herself than to him. "While Garrus might know his way around better, I have a feeling we're going to be dealing with Aria during all this. She would figure out who he is in a second, and that's not information I want her to have. You, she doesn't know anything about." She shrugged. "You're an ace up my sleeve."
"I understand," he replied. "Does her daughter know we're coming?"
"I don't think so. But she must be damn good to have avoided Samara all these years. I have a feeling things are going to get dicey." She looked down into her reflection in her tea before continuing, "That's another reason I'd like to bring you along." She gestured at him, lifting her gaze. "I trust you to keep me in line, if I need it."
His response was quick. "You do not need me for that."
She studied him, before a small smile made itself known on her lips. "No, I don't need you to," she assented. "I want you to." He recognized his own words and blinked silently. Then he nodded in agreement. She returned the nod. "We should be there in a few hours," she said. And then she blew into her tea to cool it.
His eyes betrayed his amusement as he watched her struggle with a sip of the hot beverage. "You do not have to drink it, if you do not wish," he told her.
She glanced down at the drink. "It's not so bad," she shrugged, then motioned toward him, mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Drell customs are an acquired taste."
He smirked. "As are human customs."
"Oh?" she asked, brought to a halt. She didn't think of her own habits as foreign, so she was suddenly curious. "Such as?"
"Teasing," he quickly replied.
She raised her chin knowingly, an amused, "Ah," escaping her. She stood with her mug in hand. "You'll learn to love it," she replied simply, before letting herself out of the room.
Behind her, Thane's grin simmered back down into a smirk, and he looked down into his mug. He lifted it before his lips, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply. Aromas stole over his senses – ila leaves, uhwo berries, ozaxi bark, and the pale scent of an alien flower he did not recognize but had come to know very well.
She felt absurd in this outfit. Her pants were low-slung and skin tight and these boots had stiletto heels. Stilettos. Why anyone had invented a heel this sharp for walking on completely evaded her; clearly boots like these were made for kicking, not walking. She adjusted the top uncomfortably, a high-collared number that nevertheless jutted low between her breasts, leaving her feeling exposed and... well, a bit drafty, if she was honest.
"I don't know how you wear stuff like this," she said to Thane as they approached Afterlife's VIP. He merely blinked over at her as if he had never compared the two.
"I don't think it's quite the same," he replied. Shepard hid her smirk on the far side of her face.
"Samara said she would meet us outside of the VIP doors," she said as she glanced around. Thane would know the shadows better than she would, but as their gazes darted around, it turned out that her perceptiveness was the one to save them.
"Shit," she said beneath her breath. Thane's gaze jumped to hers and immediately tried to follow her line of sight. "It's Aria," she explained as the asari wandered nearer. She took a delicate step to one side, pitting Thane between her and their newest obstacle. "Let's hope she doesn't recognize me."
The assassin glanced over his shoulder before returning his gaze to his commander. She was too busy watching Aria around his shoulder to see the calculating expression on his features.
"Do you trust me, Shepard?"
She barely even glanced up at him. "Of course," she replied automatically, before she suddenly glanced back at up him warily. "Unless you're going to put me to sleep again."
One corner of Thane's mouth twitched back, but he made no such move. Instead, he reached for her waist, his hand coasting over the bared midriff before he guided her backwards with quiet pressure. She bumped into the alley wall behind her as he kept moving, lithely, seductively. He placed his elbow on the wall above them, his bicep blocking out the light from the nearby neons, and then he lifted his opposite hand to cup her cheek. He tilted his head downward, his body hovering, a perfect cocoon of drell assassin that blocked Omega out of existence.
"As an assassin I have learned how to hide in plain sight," he explained. She could have sworn she could feel the rumble of his graveled voice, so close was he, but perhaps she was only imagining things. There was a perfectly appropriate space between their bodies and their mouths, and their arrangement simply gave the illusion of impropriety while advantageously blocking her from sight.
"I got into the wrong business," she quipped. His expression lightened, his gaze dropping down her features in a way that made her heart do something funny. He was probably just scanning her for truth in her words, the way people do when speaking, but from this distance it simply felt like it carried more weight.
"Is this a tactic you use often?" she asked. It didn't even occur to her she might sound jealous.
"Yes," he replied honestly. She blinked in surprise, but then he continued, "But usually not with such a pleasant partner."
She buried a smile in a downward expression. "I bet you say that to all your cover."
"My cover?" he replied. "No. Speaking would give them the opportunity to hear my voice, know my face."
She paused before lifting her gaze curiously. If he got this close with his cover and didn't talk to them... Her eyes jumped to his lips again involuntarily.
"She is gone." Samara's smooth voice had never been so jarring. Thane fell back immediately, breaking the 'cocoon of drell' and admitting the Omega nightlife once more. Shepard smoothed her hands down her thighs to get herself back together and nodded once.
"Okay. Let's go."
The doors closed behind her with finality, and she let her green stare sweep slowly across the room. The VIP section didn't look wholly different from the rest of the club, and she wondered what was so great about it. A little less crowded, perhaps, or maybe the exclusivity was like a drug itself. She didn't know. She only knew that her impression of the club was hardly increased for having seen the lowest level.
Far across the room, in a nook no one in the entire bar seemed to notice, two pairs of eyes watched Shepard work – one as light as snow, the other as dark as the soil hidden beneath it. The light pair seemed cool, collected; her emotions had long ago been shut down to give herself the freedom to act now without hesitation. The darker pair looked a little more intent. His brow was motionless and his stare unblinking.
Morinth eyed Shepard like a prize steak served up on a platter. When she approached she did so the way a leopard hunts; slow, perhaps, but hardly innocent. When they settled on the couch she inched close to Shepard, leaning sultrily. She pushed a strand of Shepard's hair behind her ear as they talked, left her hand sitting idly on the other woman's shoulder, and then later, when the Ardat-Yakshi tilted her head as if to whisper into Shepard's ear, her hand fell to the Commander's thigh. He shifted his weight.
As promised, Shepard finally stood from the booth. The victorious look on Morinth's face told him they were ready to move. The asari draped her arm suggestively around the Commander's hips, just above her bottom, and guided both of them through the doors of the club. At long last, Thane exhaled.
"I do not like this," he announced.
"Nor do I," Samara replied coolly, "But we must trust in Shepard."
He looked at the justicar, who was watching him, and nodded his head once.
"Come join me." Morinth's voice had the same lustrous quality as her mothers, but the way they wielded it was different. Samara's tone was like water breaking easily around whatever it might have otherwise troubled. Morinth's was like wind that made you blink. Shepard falsified a smirk over her shoulder.
"Good things come to those who wait," she replied, forcing a tease into her voice.
Morinth, tired of waiting, slunk across the room towards her. She slipped her arm around Shepard's waist, staring into her green eyes. "Are you nervous?" she asked knowingly, and Shepard breathed in deeply, trying to figure out how to answer.
"I've never been with an asari before," she admitted.
The asari smirked. "Don't be nervous," she said. "I'll be gentle." She ran her hand down the back of Shepard's arm, intertwining their fingers together. She retreated, pulling Shepard with her by the tips of her fingers braided with the commander's.
"We're alike, you and I," she said, eyes predatory, as the pair of them settled onto the couch. "I can see it in the way you look at me. Neither of us like the comfort of safety." She let her eyes travel down Shepard's body, before returning to her eyes. "We like the danger."
"Your own, or someone else's?" Shepard found herself asking without thinking. Morinth was taken back by the question, particularly the accusatory tone that accompanied it. She shrugged one shoulder.
"Both, I imagine." She narrowed her gaze. "Think back to the last thing you really wanted. Did it matter who got in your way?"
Quite without her consent, Shepard found sharp, realistic imaginings distracting her from her mission – fragments of a scene that had never happened and which didn't make much sense. She could feel a foreign touch creeping up the divot in her back, wet with sweat. She felt the rumble of a foreign voice against her neck, sending shivers across her skin. She felt the press of an unusual body against her own, but the alien quality only spurred her heartbeat faster.
"I can give you that," Morinth's voice interrupted, her pale eyes promising everything her words left between the lines. "The danger, the risk... the thrill. Open your mind to me, Shepard. I know you want this." Her eyes turned black and Shepard felt the fringes of her awareness start to blur into the other woman's, felt her sense of individuality slipping. Morinth whispered against her lips. "Embrace eternity."
But something about those black eyes alarmed her. Something tickled her memory as she looked at them, even as her consciousness blended further with the other woman's. It was a struggle to bring it forward, the eyes, something about the color, the shape. They were wrong – similar, but wrong. And suddenly, the asari's spell fell through completely, and she gasped as her own awareness snapped back to her like a rubber band that had been stretched too far.
She pulled away from the woman, her voice hard. "I'm not the victim you were hoping for."
Morinth's eyes turned back to normal as she stared in shock at her, and then Shepard's soul soared as Samara burst into the room followed quickly by Thane. From there, the Justicar took over.
The display of biotics between the two was terrifying as they battled within the apartment. Furniture flew from the sheer force of their power, and Shepard felt the hair stand up on her skin every time a biotic attack flew by her. A lamp shot towards her, but burst before it could hit her; Thane suddenly appeared at her side, a biotic field dissipating around his hand. She lowered the ineffective arm she had raised to block the lamp, and watched, impressed, as mother and daughter dueled until they seemed caught in a stalemate, neither able to let down her biotic field and both vying for aid.
Morinth's pale eyes sparked with a combination of disgust for her mother and true fear for her life. She turned her attention to Shepard. "I'm as strong as she is," she begged. "Let me join you."
Samara deflected her words. "I am already sworn to help you Shepard. Let us finish this."
"Can you trust a woman who would kill her own daughter?" Morinth replied, turning her gaze halfway to Shepard. "She never even offered me an alternative, except imprisonment. I could have joined her, been an assassin for my people, a dangerous weapon. She wants this." She sent a biotic pulse her mother's way, and Samara shifted onto her back foot before regaining her strength.
"She is a killer!" Samara argued. "She would trade the lives of thousands for her own freedom!"
"How many have you killed, Mother?" the asari asked, falling back a moment under Samara's anger and power. "I am not the monster she thinks I am, Shepard. Let me be your assassin."
She stared at the Ardat-Yakshi, her head swimming. Why hadn't the asari put her unique powers to work? Asari could attract anyone, and she didn't need weapons. She could get in anywhere, kill anyone, without the world being the wiser. She would be deadly effective, more powerful than any commando group. The asari only wanted to take away her freedom, punish her for something she could not control.
And yet, the woman she had seen in action tonight was not in the least sorry for her actions. She killed without regret, even wished to keep her victim sober through what was supposed to be an absolutely excruciating experience. She could justify wanting to be free, but how could she condone that?
She was broken out of her circular thoughts when a light touch fell onto the small of her back. She turned to find Thane had come closer. His expression was perfectly neutral as he looked into her eyes. He wasn't making the choice for her. He was only stating his support. She stared between his black eyes for a moment, before turning her gaze back to Morinth.
"I already have my assassin, thanks," she stated as she marched forward She grabbed the asari's arm and wrenched it back, breaking her biotic field.
Samara did not hesitate. Despite knowing that Morinth was one of the most dangerous people she had ever met, there was still something gut wrenching about watching a mother kill her daughter. The biotic burst she sent through her daughter's skull smashed it into the floor with a resounding crunch that twisted the mind. She looked away, unable to stand the sight of the asari's oddly colored blood spilling out onto the floor around her head like a halo. When she at last turned her eyes back to Samara, the Justicar was standing from her kill, her shoulders and heart heavy.
"Samara," she offered lamely, no idea what to say. The Asari turned her tired eyes onto her Commander.
"There are no words, Shepard," the Asari replied with grace, letting her off the hook. "Have mercy on a broken warrior and let us leave this place."
She nodded, allowing the Justicar to lead the way out of the building, before turning to follow. But Thane blocked her way. She was surprised, uncertain, but he simply lifted a hand to her upper arm and squeezed. She was relieved, glad that she didn't have to try to comfort anyone else, or explain what she was feeling, or why she had chosen him to come. It seemed he knew all that. She returned the touch as a sign of gratitude, nodding her head, and then she followed Samara out the door and the assassin followed after.
Back on the Normandy, the Justicar made her apologies and retreated to her observation room to meditate. Behind, Thane turned his eyes towards her. "Shepard," he asked, "will you join me?" She followed his gesture towards Life Support and nodded, eager for the chance to decompress after a hard mission. The doors to the room closed behind him, and she breathed in deeply of the silence within. Being with Thane felt nearly as comfortable as being alone these days.
He moved towards the window looking out over the arc reactor, but did not sit. He stood, and watched the arcs fly by. "You were right to help Samara," he told her, voice steady. She offered a weak huff in return.
"Doesn't feel like it," she admitted as she crossed the room to where he was. She leaned her back against the wall next to his window, looking back into Life Support for her distraction. "I agree that Morinth had to be stopped, but killed by her own mother?" She shook her head. "Doesn't seem right."
"She was too strong to be killed by any other means," he reasoned. "Samara had long ago come to terms with what she felt she had to do."
She knew he was right, but she shrugged anyway, studying the floor. "Maybe part of me thinks Morinth had a point." She lifted her eyes to Thane, her voice direct. "You would never kill Kolyat."
He looked at her thoughtfully. "Perhaps not," he conceded, "but I was just as responsible for Kolyat's desire to kill as Samara was for Morinth's. If I did not stop my son from killing, would I not also be responsible for the deaths he caused?"
She looked at him a moment, but she no longer knew what she thought was right or wrong thanks to his drell ideas mixing things up. "What do you think?" she asked.
He considered the problem thoughtfully. "I think my son is an innocent, and Morinth is not. Her biology gave her the ability to kill, but she decided to use it. Kolyat took a contract to kill. The decision was never his. The decision to take the contract was my fault."
She tilted her head curiously, and suddenly it occurred to her that she had no idea how the drell perceived her. She had told him more about her past than almost anyone, and of everyone could probably offer the best perspective of her actions. The drell beliefs were so cut and dry, so logical, she wondered if their opinions would be any better or worse than humans. Humans were always grateful but wary of her, as quick to condemn her methods as they were to praise her ends. So she asked.
"What would your drell beliefs say about me?" she asked.
His eye ridges pulled together as he thought. "You are a weapon," he finally decided. "At first, you killed for the Alliance. Then, for the Council. Now, you work for Cerberus." He paused, before continuing – as if he almost thought better of it. "And if you were not working for them, you would be working for the Galaxy as a whole, protecting them." He pulled his hands behind his back. "You are selfless."
She blinked at him, and shook her head. "I do it because it's the only thing I'm good at," she admitted. "I'm not some hero."
He did not believe her, as was perfectly obvious from his expression. "Morinth was born with the skills to be even deadlier," he pointed out. "Your choices define you. They make you a hero."
She looked at him in disbelief. "You really believe that, don't you?"
He looked surprised at the question, releasing his hands from their hold, and she suddenly realized her mistake. Before, she had been asking an impersonal question about drell beliefs. Now, she was asking what he thought. They were two different things, and she felt terrible for having put him on the spot. "I'm sorry." She waved her own question away. "Ignore me. I should go."
She started through the door, but his voice stopped her before they closed again. "Shepard." She turned, believing herself to be immune to any embarrassing reprisals now that Life Support had expanded to include the Crew Deck and all of the ears within it. She waited. He straightened, meeting her gaze without bashfulness. "I believe it with all that I am."
She stopped breathing, her eyes glued to his. Their gazes remained locked until the doors closed between them. The snap of metal seemed to bring her back to herself, and she glanced around, her eyes moving from object to object without relief. She lowered her eyebrows, took in a deep breath, and moved to the elevator. Her eyes were faraway.
On the other side of the doors, the drell lowered his gaze thoughtfully. He allowed his mind to wander for just a moment, his gaze moving across the dim interior of Life Support. Then he turned slowly, clasped his hands behind him, and watched the light playing in the arc reactor.