The beat pulsed around him like the galaxy's largest heart. It was easy to forget the needs of the mind in such a place, and surrender to the urges of the body. Such places made the hunt simpler, and learning the habits of the target easier. He seldom indulged in such places when business did not require it, though he had spent an evening or two swimming in the rhythmic waves as he watched other sapients lose themselves in their bodies, and had enjoyed a solitary spin or two on the dance floor. Afterlife's smoke and pulsing reddish light made the beat seem even more otherworldly, or close and comforting as the womb. Perhaps both, in some strange, conflicted Whole. Humans usually appreciated such places from his own observations, but when she entered, she flinched and one hand flew up to her ear, while the other rested on the pistol she kept holstered at her side. He'd hoped for a moment or two to indulge in the needs of the body with her where he didn't fear offending some unknown human mating customs, but her gesture told him that was but a vain wish.
"Siha?"
"God, this place is awful!"
He could barely hear her over the pulsing, and the simplistic harmony that clung tight to the beat.
"We are here only to speak to Aria?"
"Yeah. She might have some work, and creds are tight. But, damn! Why the hell does she have to set up shop here?"
"This is the very heart of Omega, Siha, where the blood of victims and innocents and thugs is channeled to feed its pulsing."
"Poetry? Here?" She cringed as they approached the inner door, but still tossed him a strained smile.
"Poetry is found everywhere if you but look."
The relentless music drowned out her laugh. She waved away a cloud of tobacco smoke as they made their way to Aria's loft.
"You know what gets me?"
"What, Siha?"
"Of all the things humans have produced, art, literature, music, food, what's the one thing that's caught on and spread everywhere? Fucking smoking. The worst damned habit humans ever developed."
"I have never enjoyed it myself." An understatement, and she snickered, from the set of her mouth. The air had not thickened quite enough to make his lungs scream in agony, but it was far from pleasant.
"The Illusive Man's always smoking at me whenever I talk to the damned bastard. Makes me want to whack him. Too bad he's not actually there with me, because he'd have swallowed a few of them by now. Hey, this smoke isn't hurting you, is it?"
"You needn't worry, Siha. I would tell you if I were in any pain."
"Promise?"
"You worry far too much."
"Well, yeah." She smiled and surrounded his hand with the warmth of hers.
And yet, he hated to admit to himself that he almost enjoyed her worrying, the subtle pampering that seemed to be the hallmark of a woman's caring across species. He steered her away from the loft and toward the doorway to the darker, lower thrumming heart of the club, where the crowding pushed bodies close together. Hers. Below, where the alcohol flowed like the waves of Kahje, where the music drove Omega's blood through its heart, and where his own slammed at the thought of holding her close.
"Do you feel it, Siha?"
"What?"
"The flow of life about us, moving in time to the beat that surrounds us, and sweeps us away…"
"You mean my headache?"
"Come. Dance with me."
"You're serious."
She shrugged and followed as he wove them through the crowds and through the door to the insulated corridor that led to Lower Afterlife.
"You're going to regret this."
"Why do you say that?"
She grinned as he slipped an arm about her waist between the shotgun she never used and her array of heavier weapons. She leaned into it with far more ease than he'd anticipated, personal armory, hardsuit and all.
"Miranda and Jacob haven't told you about my first early attempts to 'relax?' I'd hoped Cerberus had upgraded my rhythm, but…"
"I do not maintain contact with either Operative, Siha. Especially not Taylor."
She snorted. "Crap, so my secret was safe… You really want to do this?"
If he hadn't lowered his lips to her earflap, perhaps she might have fought rather than having her cheeks deepen to shadow.
"Sh, Siha. Just let the beat of the music allow the body to take over."
"Well, when you put it that way…"
She flinched when they entered the tight, pulsing room and when she stared at him, he sensed she wished to run. What seemed to haunt her eyes, much as he could make them out in the gloom, was not the desire or the softness he'd been hoping to see, but pure terror, especially when she eyed an asari dancing amidst the crowd.
"I need a drink. Want one?" She made a beeline for the salarian bartender.
"Siha…"
She slammed the first shot down without flinching and motioned for a second as he caught up to her.
"Is something the matter, Siha?"
"Nothing a couple of shots can't fix. Or ten."
She drank the next as he motioned for one of his own, just to put her at ease. It is but a dance floor, Siha.
"Right, let's get this over with."
"I would hope that dancing with me is not a terrible burden or something you would wish to 'get over with.'"
"It's not… I just…" She motioned for a third shot. "Strong this time!"
"Siha…"
When that went down, she burned a deep burgundy on her forehead and her cheeks flushed dark against her already shadowed hair.
"Dios mio."
But she clutched him by the hand and followed him, head cast down to an empty spot near the asari.
"Ohgodohgod not here…"
She turned him so that both he and her weapons looked upon the asari. He smiled and relaxed into the beat. She fixed her gaze firmly on him and nothing else, and then moved side to side perhaps like a husk. He could find no other words to describe the odd snapping she did as her head lolled back and forth and her lips seemed to form numbers that didn't match the beat of the music. One. Two. One. Two. She moved just off the music's meter, no matter how hard she screwed up her lips and eyebrows in concentration. Her arms she kept immobile at her sides, as if she couldn't manage to move them in tandem with her shuffling feet.
"Siha, are you well?"
"I'm dancing!"
He moved in close, almost close enough to feel her body's heat through her hardsuit.
"Is that what you call it? You seem to be in pain."
"Nah, no pain. Shots took care of that!" She grinned suddenly and giggled. "Feelin' tha' music!"
He took her hand and tried to guide her away, but fast as the Cerberus upgrades had made her metabolism, the third shot hit her hard, and far faster than it would an unaltered human.
"Not done dancing. Watch this!"
She flailed around, her hands flapping as if she were trying to make her way through the final sea, but without Kalahira to guide her. She spun around, suddenly almost matching the music's pulse, her arms over her head, rotating in opposition. He thought she'd knock the suddenly curious asari over as she lowered them and turned with them extended like a rotor.
"So that's your girlfriend," the asari said. "You should dump her and try a real woman."
"Siha, perhaps we should go."
"You tryin' to take my querido? Ge' the hell 'way from im! Bad 'nuff ya couldn' help me ge' tha Arda.. Ardat Yak… Ardat Yakshi!"
"She's obviously drunk."
"Yah? An' you ugly!"
"But at least I can dance."
"The moment you can fire an assault weapon with the precision of a sniper rifle is the moment you can criticize Commander Shepard's dancing. Now, if you will excuse us."
"So that's why she's got an entire armory strapped to her back." The asari shook her head and sashayed off.
She staggered and fell against him, and only began to regain her senses after he'd manhandled her out into the alleyway behind the club.
"Oh… damn… Did I do that? Did I really… Ohgod." She buried her head against his chest. "I'm so… sorry…"
Her forehead seared him, and he relished the tickle of her hair against his bare skin.
"Siha, are you well?"
"I don't think I'll be well ever again! That last shot… was ryncol. I could taste it. Just like on the Citadel. Ohgod. Ohgod."
"Is dancing so terrible? Yours is, but is the act itself so dreadful that you must poison yourself to get through it?"
"Not… usually…"
"And the asari. You knew her?"
"Dios mio. Wish I didn't. I had to lure out Morinth, and I thought maybe I could try to 'loosen up' a little. You know… So I did that last thing… The thing where I try to feel the music. She shot me down. Hard. Ugh. How the hell do you lure out a woman when you don't, you know, swing that way? But it's worse now. Ohgod."
"My poor Siha. I regret asking you to dance. For you it seems almost as toxic as humidity is to me."
"I told you!"
She hesitated as she raised her head and closed her eyes instead of meeting his.
"You have tasted ryncol and lived to speak of it?"
"Ohgod… The Citadel… Y'know, when it comes to all the bad memories, they stick around."
"I suppose I must ask if I am to hear the story."
"Fine… Can't get much more humiliating… I was about two weeks out from death, and I still looked like some kind of mutant cyborg thing from bad old Earth sci-fi vids. I could have lived with the scars, I guess, but I was so far away from healing that they glowed. I was stuck with Cerberus, with just Miranda and Jacob for company. Anderson wanted to see me, but I wasn't quite ready. So I got damned drunk, and woke up on the floor of the Dark Star's bathroom staring at a pissing turian. And a really pissed off Miranda. Jacob just snickered. Ryncol tastes like ass, by the way."
She shot him a wounded look as he burst out laughing.
"Why do you dislike this place so much?"
"The music… It's wrong. It's cold. It feels like it's made by a bunch of geth. It has no soul, no feeling."
"It is meant to help you lose the chains of the mind, and to let the body roam free. Such things do not require feeling or soul. I find it almost like meditating: soothing and freeing."
"Music is supposed to be expression. There's none of that here. How the hell do you dance to nothing when you can feel nothing from it?"
"The expression is in one's own body, and its desires. I had hoped to share a little with you."
"Oh…. I… I'm sorry I messed it up."
"I am the one who caused you injury…"
"Don't even think about saying that!" She clutched at his hand and brought it to her lips. Soft lips. Warm lips.
"Perhaps I can make dancing a little less painful for you."
She stared at him, and he noticed the fuzziness had left her expression.
"The cargo hold seems to be devoid of Cerberus personnel, and I would very much enjoy teaching you…"
"You'll regret it."
"Perhaps, but I think it is a regret I can live with."
