Leon Harding aka Leon Solomon

Jesus fuck, how much did I drink?

Oh.

Oh God.

Jasmine opened her eyes, pushing herself upright, something cool falling away from her face. Immediately regretting the sudden motion, she groaned. Lifting her hand, her fingers delicately prodded the tender, achy side of her face. She expected far worse swelling, and instead of finding an open cut she felt … Medi-gel?

God tell me I'm not too late. Please. Maybe he hasn't found them yet.

Sitting up the rest of the way, she lifted her arm to open her omni-tool and paused, catching sight of the angry, red gash on her arm. The area around the grazing gunshot looked clean, the skin drawn together and covered with Medi-gel. Leon must've taken quite some time in the apartment before leaving, tending to his injuries … and hers. Wet, bloody rags surrounded the opened first aid kit next to her, it's contents strewn about. Leon's torn, blood soaked shirt lay in a heap in the middle of the mess, a still-cold compress on top. He might not be far.

Damn, how long was I out?

She opened her omni-tool with trembling fingers. "Shit. No, no, no." The orange, holographic screen sputtered and jumped before dying altogether. She pulled herself to her feet, swaying a moment before taking a tentative step. So far so good. The pain remained manageable despite sinking angry tentacles into her head and back. She would deal. What choice did she have, anyway?

Moving slowly, she made her way to her room, taking measured deep breaths to stave off the wooziness when it hit. He'd rifled through her things before leaving, tossing her clothes about, the picture Samantha drew her crumpled from rough handling and discarded carelessly on the bed. She swallowed, her fingers trembling with building rage as she picked up the picture, smoothing it back out. The bottle of supplements lay empty, the pills crushed on the floor. Tears burned her eyes, helplessness and fear choking the breath from of her when she found her laptop, shattered to pieces. She had no way to warn Thane; unless she wanted to waste time going to a public terminal.

Thane's good. Really good. Leon won't be able to take him by surprise. He can't.

Lowering herself to her knees, she reached under the bed, sliding her gun case out and popping the latches. At least he didn't lower himself to leaving her defenseless; a mistake he'd soon regret. She took in a shaky breath, lifting her sniper rifle from the case, she checked it over, readying it for use.

Maybe he's already dead. Thane might've killed him. But then Thane would be here now, wouldn't he?

"You keep checking your omni-tool." Nevas glanced over at Thane, the tremor in her fingers and the feral look of an injured animal in her eyes belying the strained smile on her face. "Waiting for someone to call?"

He dipped his head. "I am, yes." He considered himself a patient man, though, and he'd continue to wait as long as Jasmine needed. His concern for her, however, seemed to have forgotten this fact. At least she messaged him to let him know she'd safely escaped RetCorp. His siha was alive, the rest could wait.

"Saman, did you meet a man?" Her tone, light and playful, sounded forced to his ears.

Chuckling, he lifted his cup to his lips, sipping the kaffe. "No, I'm waiting for a colleague to contact me."

"How boring." She took a sip of her own kaffe. Setting her cup down, she ran her finger over the rim and swallowed heavily. "I worked with those people. I saw them every day. Some of them weren't good people, but not all of them were so bad." She sniffed, running a hand under her wet eyes. "Don't misunderstand, I know RetCorp isn't what most in the galaxy would consider an honest business, but some of the people who work there are just people, working to provide for themselves and their families."

His heart ached for the conflict he saw in Nevas; the mourning for those lost and the gratitude for her freedom. "Were you close to them?"

Glancing up, she shook her head and picked her cup up again. "No, not really." She took a drink, studying him over the top of her cup. "Are you certain it's been taken care of … my problem?"

"I am." As much as possible without going into RetCorp and checking their systems himself.

"Then I think I'm going to go to the docks and see if I can leave sooner. I can't wait to be gone from here, and I know it's only a matter of time before someone mentions my name to the police and they come to look for me." She drained her cup and pushed her chair back from the table. "I don't want to be here when that happens."

"I understand." Thane stood with her. "Would you like for me to accompany you?"

"No, that's alright." She smiled, picking up their cups and carrying them to her kitchen. "Thank you, for everything, but I've taken up quite enough of your time with my fretting today."

"You've been kind to me, Nevas. It's been my pleasure to return the favor." Thane waited, hands tucked behind his back. "Are you certain you don't wish for me to accompany you? I don't mind." He did mind, though. Oh, not entirely, it didn't bother him to go with her so much as it did he still hadn't heard from Jasmine. Perhaps staying with Nevas would be good for him, distract him while he waited.

She walked out of the kitchen and stopped, her hands folded in front of her as she gave him a warm smile. "You're worried about me, aren't you?"

"It's been a troubling day." He dipped his head, acknowledging his concern.

"You don't need to worry about me. I may be young for an asari, but I'm not a child." She moved around the table, picking up her bag and lifting the strap over her head to hang across her body. "But if you want to come with me, I won't stop you."

Thane chuckled, holding his hand out toward the door, and Nevas smiled, leading the way. She turned off the lights as she passed the switch, leaving them in near darkness, only the pale, last light of the day filtering through her balcony doors. She reached out her hand, ready to open the door when a shadow fell across the hall, drawing Thane's attention.

He spun already reaching for his pistol, catching sight of the bulky silhouette of a human male framed in the glass of the balcony doors, a gun in his hand. Dropping low, Thane took Nevas with him to the floor, shoving her toward the back of the couch. "Get to cover."

Behind them, the door slid open as he slipped into the deepest shadows. Urging Nevas along with a hand on her back, he ignored the confused, panicked noises and biotic flickers coming from the asari. The whispered hiss of a silencer—just before the figure on the balcony stumbled back—alerted Thane to a second presence at the front door. Biotic energy flared to life around his hand, ready to release a Throw at the newcomer.

Glancing over his shoulder, he froze, biotic flames licking at his fingers, demanding to be released. "Siha." The word escaped him in a whisper, barely more than a confused prayer, the sight of her filling him with joy, even as the cold fury radiating from her filled him with dread.

Jasmine stepped over the threshold, her pistol wavering in her hand before she fired again, shattering the glass completely. The shot knocked the man on the balcony further back, the light hitting his face for the first time.

Leon.

The weapon fell from his hand, blood spreading across his white shirt from both shoulder and chest. Neither shot immediately fatal, succeeding only in disarming and disabling the man. Leon dropped to his knees, a look of surprise on his face, his hands flailing out to catch himself as he fell forward. Jasmine snaked her way around furniture, her gun trembling in her hand but her aim never leaving Leon. Thane released the biotic energy surrounding his fist, intending to intervene, move to her and try to make sense of it all; Leon might still be saved if this was all some terrible mistake. Nevas grabbed his arm, clinging to him, keeping him next to her.

"What's happening? Goddess what's happening?" Nevas' voice trembled with her fear. Her mouth fell open in shock. "Sierra?"

Thane glanced at the asari as she pushed herself to her feet. He held a hand out in warning, the look on Jasmine's face making him uncertain of her state of mind. "Stay there." He pried himself free from Nevas' grip and edged out after Jasmine tucking his pistol safely away. He took slow steps, circling around to her side, easing his way into her peripheral vision.

She didn't take her eyes off of Leon, but the twitch of her jaw told him she'd seen him. She kept moving until she stood in the balcony door, looking down at Leon now lying on his back. The look in her eyes was not that of a siha, not a protector serving at Arashu's will, but one sent to deliver death, heeding the call of Kalahira. Thane didn't know why, what Leon might've done to evoke the wrath he saw there, but it made her intentions perfectly clear. She unmistakably meant for him to die. Looking down on her prey, she leveled the pistol at Leon's head; her hand steady.

The man coughed, blood spraying from his mouth, covering his teeth when he smiled at her. "Knew you had it in you, love." His gaze shifted, finding Thane's. "Take care of her."

"Go to hell." The words tore from her in a snarl, hissing between clenched teeth as she pulled the trigger one final time, putting a bullet in her handler's forehead. She lowered her gun to her side, but didn't move, remaining there looking down on his corpse.

"Sierra," Thane spoke gently, moving a little closer to her, hoping the alias reminded her of where she stood; whose ears might hear whatever she said.

She holstered her pistol and turned to look at him over her shoulder, letting him see for the first time the cut above her temple and the angry, swollen bruise on the left side of her face. He sucked in a breath, glancing back down at Leon before returning his gaze to her. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but instead she dropped her gaze, swaying a little on her feet.

"Will somebody please tell me what in the name of the Goddess is happening?" Nevas' voice drew their attention as she peered over the back of the couch.

"Get her out of here." Her gaze flicked to Thane's for the briefest of moments; anything more and she'd break. She fucked up. She fucked up bad, and now people were dead; people who shouldn't be.

And one who should.

She'd have to pay the price; go back to the Alliance and face the music. There was too much at stake. As in potential war level shit. Not that turning herself in would change anything if it came down to it, but … she just had to, and if she looked at Thane right now, she'd only want to run. All it'd take is one touch from him, and she'd leave everything else behind her, ready to escape it all with him. She chanced looking at him again when he didn't move or speak, not quite meeting his gaze. "Please."

He took a step back, the weight of his gaze lingering on her a moment longer before he turned away, tucking his hands behind his back. "Of course."

She turned her back to the room, staring out into the last vestiges of daylight. A moment later she heard Thane's voice, soft, urgent, and reassuring as he convinced Nevas to gather her bags—already packed and waiting in her bedroom—and go with him to the docks. He promised her he'd get her an earlier departure and take care of everything else, she needn't worry about anything.

Some distant part of Jasmine wondered what he'd have to do, what sacrifice he'd have to make, to fulfill his promise. She heard Nevas agree, and breathed a sigh of relief. She'd have to think of something to tell the asari eventually, some story to explain why 'Sierra' just shot 'Adam' on Nevas' balcony and what he was even doing there to begin with, but for now … for now it was the least of her concerns.

Thane returned to her while Nevas gathered her things. Standing within easy reach but respecting her personal space, he left it up to her to make contact or not. When she didn't close the space between them, didn't reach out for him, he took one step closer and folded his hands behind his back, his voice low and practical, void of emotion. "Tell me what you need. How can I help?"

She took a deep breath, pushing back the tide of emotions threatening to sweep her away and built a dam to hold them at bay. "My omni-tool's broken. I need another to provide verification when I report his death. His will be keyed to his vitals, but I need to take it with me. His weapons, too, some of them are Alliance issued. I should probably pull him inside … I don't know if they'll try to retrieve him or not. I need to clear the apartment of our personal effects … clean up the blood …. He destroyed my laptop. I'll need to gather what evidence I can."

"Evidence?" The hint of confusion in his voice battered at her dam, threatening to rip the entire structure down.

She licked her lips and risked meeting his gaze. "There was no job. We weren't supposed to be here."

He lowered his gaze, studying the floor for a moment in silence before looking back up at her. "As soon as I've taken care of Nevas, I'll get a new omni-tool for you. If we move him with Nevas still here, it might upset her further. If you wait for me, I'll help you when I return."

Jasmine swallowed and nodded. "Thank you."

"Of course, siha." He dipped his head and stepped away.

Darkness fell completely as Nevas and Thane left, leaving her standing there alone with nothing but the moonlight to guide her. She wanted the lights off, it'd help keep prying eyes at bay; thankfully Thane knew it as well as her. Sucking in a deep breath, she crossed through the shattered balcony doors, glass sliding and crunching beneath her boots.

She stopped next to Leon, his features little more than soft lines and shadow in the night until she crouched down next to him. "You stupid sonofabitch." Lifting his arm, she slid his omni-tool from his wrist. "If you … you should've just run." She let go of his arm, letting it plop down across his chest. "I won't forgive you for this. Ever."

And what about your sister? She's waiting for you to help her with your father and you just … God, she'll never even know what happened to you. Why'd you do this? What the hell is wrong with you? Fuck!

She sat the omni-tool aside before tugging and shifting, checking him over for anything else he might have on him, finding only a second gun secured at his back. Taking both of his weapons and his omni-tool, she made her way back into the apartment and set them on the table. Stepping into the bathroom, she grabbed a handful of towels, carrying them back to the balcony and tossing them over pools of blood.

In Nevas' room, she pulled the sheet from her bed, balling it up in her arms, she carried it back outside. Dragging the patio chaise lounge next to him, she draped the sheet around the furniture, arranging it out over his body. The shape of the lounge created bulk and unfamiliarity, breaking up what would otherwise clearly be a covered corpse to anyone who happened to look out a window. Shit, she should've covered him right away. Someone might've already seen; the cops already be on their way.

It's Illium, love. No one cares about one dead human.

"Fuck you. Get the hell out of my head," Jasmine muttered, glaring at the abstract patterned piece of cloth. She lifted her hand, her fingers trembling as she pushed loose tendrils of hair out of her face. Between her adrenaline crashing, having not eaten since earlier in the morning, and being hit in the head … she didn't feel so hot. "God damn you."

She supposed she'd just have to wait and see who showed up first: Thane or the police. A part of her wasn't really sure she cared, either way, her life ended the day Leon showed up on the Citadel. She made her way back into Nevas' apartment, standing in the living room, she stared blankly at the front door for a moment. Her legs felt weak, and her arms heavy. Her stomach grumbled, just in case she needed the reminder.

Why the hell not?

Shuffling around the couch, she headed for the kitchen. The faint glow of digital numbers the only thing lighting her path as she felt her way around, relying on the few memories she had of being in Nevas' apartment the night of the gala. Opening the refrigerator, she blinked her eyes against the harsh glare of sudden light. She pulled out a bottle of pale green liquid and turned it around in her hands until she saw the label, confirming her suspicions. "Elasa. 'Sorrow's Companion.'" She snorted softly. "Perfect."

She sat the bottle on the counter next to her before reaching back inside the refrigerator, rifling around until she found something that looked like it'd be easy to eat and not taste like shit cold; some sort of leftover pasta dish. Digging around in drawers by the light of the refrigerator, she grabbed a fork before heading to the dining table with her finds.

Thane stood in the middle of his apartment. He'd asked Jasmine to wait next to the door the moment he realized something was off. He wanted a chance to look around, confirm his suspicions before he told her he thought Leon had been in his apartment. Beyond exhausted, she didn't need anymore put on her if avoidable. Moving from room to room, he let his gaze roam, stopping on every object sitting slightly askew, not quite matching his memories of the last time he was home.

"He was here, wasn't he?" Her voice carried every ounce of defeat he'd seen in her face the entire night.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to look at her. "Yes, but don't let it concern you, siha. There's nothing here for anyone to find."

She sat her gun case down next to her feet and held a hand to her forehead. "You should make sure he didn't leave anything behind." She dropped her hand to her side, tears welling up in her eyes before she blinked them away. "Jesus, Thane. I'm so sorry. For all of this mess."

Thane moved to her, barely having the chance to reach for her before she leaned into him, tucking her arms between them and pressing her forehead to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "You have nothing to apologize for, Jasmine. I told you when I followed you here I knew the risks, and my only concerns were for you. Nothing has changed." Sliding a hand up, he gently kneaded the tight muscles at the back of her neck. "Siha … what happened?"

She took a deep breath and splayed her fingers out over his chest, tilting her head back to look at him. "It's a long, complicated story and I desperately want a shower."

He smiled, running the tips of his fingers along her jaw. "I'll lay a towel out for you."

She rewarded him with a smile of her own, the first he'd seen all night. "Thank you."

He let her go, heading into the bathroom where he opened the cabinet. Finding everything exactly where he left it, he pulled out a towel and laid it on the counter within easy reach of the shower. Reaching back inside, he grabbed the extra bottle of herbal supplements he kept on hand in case Jasmine needed them while at his apartment. After seeing hers crushed on her bedroom floor, he expected to find the same in his bathroom. It appeared Leon hadn't bothered to come into the bathroom, though, and the safety seal on the bottle remained intact. He sat the bottle down next to the towel and left the room.

Jasmine knelt on the floor in front of her bags, digging through them as she pulled out various bottles and articles of clothing. She glanced up as he came out and smiled at him again. Seeing some of the bitter control drain from her face soothed his soul a little. He'd fought himself all evening, forcing back his own emotions to accommodate her. He'd seen her struggle to keep her own battle sleep tight around her, and as much as he wanted nothing more than to comfort her, he understood she needed the emotional distance for the time being. The sight of tears in her eyes, even if she refused to let them spill down her cheeks, and her willingness to fold herself in his arms moments before felt like rays of hope to him. Her smile, though fragile and worn thin, felt like a whispered promise, telling him she would indeed be alright.

He sat down at his desk and opened his computer, leaving her to gather her things and shower. Where it might not be to others, it was obvious to him Leon spent time in Thane's chair, using his laptop, undoubtedly searching for further proof of his identity and his relationship to Jasmine. She'd mentioned the implication in Leon's words that he knew Saman wasn't his real name. What exactly Leon did know stayed a mystery, one he prayed remained as such with the man dead.

Thane still didn't have a complete picture of what transpired in RetCorp, how or when Jasmine came to realize the assassinations hadn't been sanctioned, or precisely what led her to take such violent actions against her handler—actions he wasn't entirely certain were … necessary. The lack of information didn't leave him without theories, however, most of which he pieced together when he saw the state of her apartment.

There'd very clearly been a struggle, and Thane suspected the injuries to her face were inflicted by her handler, as well as other injuries he couldn't see with his own eyes but her movements betrayed. The idea of Leon harming Jasmine deeply upset Thane, the bond between handler and assassin could only be built on deep trust, and her handler violated her trust in the worst ways possible.

He found Leon's actions even more disturbing considering the intimate history between the two. Loathe to admit it, Thane knew if Leon were still alive, he'd be hard pressed to maintain his composure with the man. The mistreatment of her personal property, in particular the herbal supplements, added to Leon's suggesting he knew something of Thane, left him with a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. He dreaded learning just how much his relationship with Jasmine played into the day's events.

"What are you doing?" Her voice came from a meter away, drawing his attention back to her.

He glanced over his shoulder to find her crossing the floor, coming to stand beside him. "I thought I might start gathering information for you while you shower. Unless there's something more pressing, some other task you want me to start on?"

"You don't have to do this." She lifted a hand to his shoulder. "Any of this. It's my mess to clean up."

"I want to help, siha, and this is one of the few ways I can." He turned his gaze back to his computer. "Do you mind if I reach out to my contact? He might be able to assist with some of this."

"Only if you promise to let me handle his expenses this time." She squeezed his shoulder a little.

Thane glanced back at her, chuckling as he dipped his head. "If you insist. He's been trying to convince me to make an introduction between the two of you. He seems very keen on the idea of widening his clientele." He tilted his head to the side. "Though I suspect he's more interested in meeting the human who's captured my interest."

She shrugged, her lip twitching a little with thought. "Normally this is the sort of thing I'd go to a liaison with, but it never hurts to have an ace in the hole." She snorted softly when he dipped his brow in confusion. "Uh, a secret play; a backup plan."

"Ah. Indeed. I'll let Theodus know you're open to meeting him, then." He kissed the top of her hand still sitting on his shoulder. "Go, have your shower. I'll make cinuela when you're finished, if you like."

She brushed her thumb over his lips and sighed. "Okay. I won't be long." Her hand trailed away as she turned, walking toward the bathroom. "Even though I feel like spending a year in a hot bath. I ache everywhere."

"Take as long as you need, siha." He watched her step into the bathroom, smirking at the noncommittal grunt of a noise she made as the door closed behind her, absently noting she left it unlocked.

Jasmine leaned against the shower wall, letting the scalding spray wash away the blood, sweat, and grime from her body, wishing it'd cleanse her mind as well. She'd already made the call to her liaison from her apartment, sending the woman photos of Leon's body and the injuries dealt to her at his hand. She'd struggled to stay composed as she provided as much detail as she could afford to share about her time on Illium …the look on her liaison's face as she went back over the details, confirming Jasmine had in fact been the one to kill Leon—one of their own—somehow felt far worse than actually pulling the trigger.

Someone higher up in command would contact her—probably in the morning but maybe sooner—with orders on how to proceed. She'd better be ready with whatever proof of Leon's crimes she could pull together and a damn good explanation as to why she left him with so many holes. If she were being completely honest with herself, she could've taken Leon with one shot. It'd be easy to pretend between her blatant concussion and needing to protect innocent civilians she did the only sure thing under the circumstances, disarmed him first … but it'd be a lie to say she wasn't working out some anger issues with her second shot. She knew it wouldn't hit the heart, wouldn't be a kill shot, but she took it anyway. That tidbit definitely wouldn't be included in her report.

And Thane, God bless him for wanting to help. Truth be told, she didn't know if she'd be able to handle this on her own. Not this. Not having come to realize her culpability in the deaths of so many. Not having killed Leon, no matter how necessary her actions were. Yet having him there made it all somehow harder. Harder to keep her emotions at bay, and … harder to not feel shame for how she handled those final moments with Leon.

There was still so much to do, though. She'd be foolish to turn down his help. Hell, anyone's help. The whole thing turned into such a colossal fuck up, and she felt like she'd drown dealing with it by herself. She definitely had a long night ahead of her, no matter how exhausted she already felt. She took a deep breath and picked up her shampoo, she really didn't want to be in there long, not while he sat out there working to clean up her mess.

As soon as she turned off the water she heard Thane's voice, his words muffled and indistinct. She assumed he must be speaking with Theodus and decided to stall; she wasn't really in the mindset to meet new people at the moment. She took her time drying off, dressing, and brushing her hair before brushing her teeth, using the running water to swallow a dose of the supplements he'd left out for her. If ever there a night existed she needed to be wary of her addiction's ugly voice whispering in the back of head, it was this night.

Still hearing him talking in the other room, she sighed and gave up, opening the bathroom door. Thane turned and glanced over his shoulder at her, giving her a look at the other drell on his laptop screen. She knew drell varied in coloration as much as humans, but she wasn't quite prepared for the snow white scales or the blood red eyes staring back at her. Still, she forced a smile on her face when he flashed his own at her and put one foot in front of the other when Thane held his hand out, beckoning to her.

"Ah, good. Perhaps you can answer Theodus' questions better than I, if you're feeling up to discussing matters." Thane stood as she approached, offering her his chair.

She nodded, taking a seat, pulling the chair a little closer to the desk, and turned her gaze up to Thane. "Might as well, needs done."

He frowned but nodded. "I'll make cinuela. Are you hungry, would you like anything else?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him, feeling a smile tug at her lips.

He chuckled, his frown disappearing. "Allow me to rephrase my question: what else would you like?"

"Whatever's easiest is fine, thanks." She let her smile spread, feeling herself relax a little more at the sound of his laugh. Maybe he'd make things a little easier if she let him.

He dipped his head. "Of course."

She turned her attention back to the unfamiliar drell on the screen as Thane walked away, knowing he'd be listening from the kitchen. "Hi."

"Hello, and forgive me but I must ask what to call you." Theodus leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach as he turned the chair slowly back and forth, the weight of his gaze never leaving her. His head turned enough for her to catch sight of the washed out red and yellow markings along the sides and top of his head, the pentagon etched in pale red on his forehead barely visible in the low light around him. "I'm afraid Krios has been rather ambiguous when it comes to you, artfully avoiding using your name, and going so far as to make it clear he'd be personally offended if I looked into you deeper." One corner of his mouth lifted in a sly grin. "Which quite possibly makes you the most interesting person I've ever met."

She snorted softly. "I'm really not."

Thane appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Her name isn't mine to give you, Theodus. She only knows yours because you requested the contact." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Now be nice, she's had a difficult day."

"I'm always nice." Theodus winked at Jasmine, something she'd most definitely never seen Thane do before, earning him a raised eyebrow which only widened his smile.

"Be nicer." Thane disappeared into the kitchen again.

She turned her attention fully back to Theodus. "My name is Jasmine."

His brow ridges lifted. "Ah, so there is something to the story 'GunForHire' mentioned on your thread. Do you prefer Jazz?"

She sucked on her teeth. "Only if you prefer your knee with a bullet lodged in it."

Thane's chuckle sounded from the kitchen a heartbeat before Theodus' full-bodied laugh. She smiled, leaning back in her chair. Under different circumstances, she might actually enjoy a conversation with Theodus. Pity she'd probably only ever speak to him when the shit hit the fan, leaving her in no mood for idle chit chat.

"Quite interesting." He leaned forward, his hands moving to his keyboard. "I'll take that as a 'no.'" Smile fading, he cleared his throat. "Krios has given me the rough details: your handler brought you in on an invalid contract, resulting in the deaths of twenty-one people—"

"What?" She leaned forward, all of her muscles tensing once more. "How many people?"

Theodus paused, his gaze averted from the camera but still focused on his screen, showing her the hints of the whites of his eyes, turning the red a milky pink but leaving the color of his irises indiscernible, and inseparable from his pupils. After a moment he turned his attention back to her. "The final RetCorp body count on all news network sites and the IPD file servers is twenty-one dead."

Leaning back hard enough for the chair to rock, she pressed her hands to her face. "Jesus fucking Christ."

"You expected a different number?" He asked, drawing her attention back to him.

"Yeah … I counted eighteen total. Which explains why he didn't show at the initial rendezvous." She sucked in a deep breath, her mind swimming with fatigue as it tried to put the pieces together. "Anything on the locations of bodies?"

He nodded. "I'll add it to my report." All traces of humor gone from his face and voice, he hesitated, seeming to weigh his words. "If you can verify for me the names of the intended targets, I can construct profiles for you, linking them to whatever person or event your handler claimed caused contracts to be put on them, if such a link exists, if you'd like. The more information you can give me, the better."

"Excuse me a moment?" She pushed her chair back from the desk.

"Sure." He nodded, turning his attention back to whatever else he had on his screen.

Thane met her in the kitchen doorway. "Is everything alright, siha?" He kept his voice low, concern coloring his tone.

"I—how well do you trust him?" She scraped her teeth over her lip, finding the cut just inside her lower lip, prodding it with her tongue.

"I've worked with him for many years, he's earned my trust in these matters. He's discrete. Whatever information you give him is safe." He waved a hand at nothing in particular. "He does have a tendency to ask irrelevant questions simply because he's a curious individual, but I wouldn't have you speak with him if I doubted his intentions."

"Okay." She raked a hand through her damp hair before shaking it out. Her eyebrow twitched when she caught the flare of his nostrils and the slight darkening of his frills a moment later. Smiling she stepped a little closer to him before leaning in and pressing her lips to his, savoring his warmth and suddenly wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed next to him and sleep. Yes, he'd definitely make things easier, and she'd let him.

His hand found her hip as he returned her kiss, gentle and undemanding. When she stepped away, turning to go back to the desk, his hand snagged hers, pulling her back to him. He traced her jaw with his fingers. "I love you, siha."

She smiled lifting up on her toes to kiss him again. "I love you, too."

The absence of the gentle weight of her head cradled in the crook of his arm and of her hand resting on his chest woke him from his sleep, meager as it were. He reached out for her, but she wasn't there. Sitting up, he looked around the bedroom, and not finding her, he tossed off the covers and left the bed, turning the lights on dim as he made his way from the room.

He found her standing in front of the window in the living room, the blinds drawn back. A rather precarious position for one so accustomed to sniper rifles to take, but he understood the draw of the city lights when one felt alone and lost. She'd fallen asleep only two hours before, after words and even tears abandoned her. He should be surprised to see her awake again so soon, but somehow he wasn't, instead he felt disappointed. He'd hoped she'd be able to get the sleep she so desperately needed, but he suspected on a night like this, she'd normally resort to alcohol or sleeping pills, and he had neither. He gently cleared his throat as he neared, not wanting to startle her.

Her head twitched toward the noise, but she didn't face him, instead continuing to stare out the window, her hands resting on her shoulders. "Did I wake you?"

He slid his arms around her waist, easing her back against his chest and rested his chin next to her hand on her shoulder. "No."

She snorted, moving her hand down to hold his arm against her. "Liar."

He scoffed, turning his head to kiss just behind her ear, taking note of the hitch in her breath. "Your absence woke me, it's hardly the same thing."

She hummed, her fingers caressing his arm.

"Is there anything I can do?" He gazed out over the city, just like the Citadel, things never really settled on Illium. It never felt truly peaceful there.

Her back expanded against his chest, her shoulder rising beneath his chin as she took in a deep breath, holding it a moment before letting it seep out of her. "Tell me not to do this. Tell me to tell the Alliance to fuck off and disappear, fall off their radar. Tell me to run away with you instead."

Pain lanced through his chest, burning him worse than any fire. Oh, how he wanted to tell her those things. How he wanted to beg her not to leave him, knowing it very well might be the last time he'd ever see her … knowing a terrible fate might await her. But he couldn't; he wouldn't, because it wouldn't be fair to the honorable woman he saw in her and in the end, she'd hate herself, and it'd kill them both. "Siha …."

"Shh. I know." She turned her head, pressing the side of her face against his. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. It wasn't fair to either of us."

He tightened his grip on her. "If I could do this for you, I would."

She lifted her hand, her fingers brushing over the other side of his face. "I'd never ask you to, never let you." Reaching out, she closed the blinds before turning in his arms. "You understand why I have to do this, don't you?"

He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, pressing his palm to her face. "I do, and I admire your strength and your loyalty."

She smiled at him, all traces of the anguish she expressed earlier absent from her gaze, at least in the low light. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him to her, her mouth finding his. Her lips moved against his, slow and gentle at first, but soon with building urgency, her tongue flicking against his lips, enticing his to join it. Her scent intoxicated him, sweeping away the last of the burning in his chest, replacing it with a whole other kind of warmth, sending it coursing through his veins.

He moaned without meaning to, and it only seemed to encourage her. She pressed her body against his, one hand exploring the curves of his shoulder and arm, the other finding its way to his frills. He moaned again, his body already making demands of him he didn't know if he had yet prepared himself to heed. He didn't know if it'd be wise for either of them, all things considered. Oh, but he wanted her, wanted to know every part of her, and if she wanted this, wanted him as badly, then timing be damned. He might never see her again.

She pulled away, her chest heaving. Licking her lips she met his gaze, her fingers kneading at him with what felt like barely restrained desperation. "I want—I need you." She brought her mouth nearer, her lips hovering just out of reach. "Don't make me beg," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

"Never." He reclaimed her mouth with renewed vigor, sliding a hand under her shirt, fingers splayed across the warm, soft skin of her back.

Jasmine lifted a hand to the back of his head. Her brain—still swimming in hormones—struggled to process what just happened. Everything was going wonderful, he felt amazing beneath her, inside of her, better than she imagined … and then he just checked out. A moment later he started talking … describing the colors of Irikah's scales and the feel of being inside of her, the taste of her tongue and the sensation of her breath across his neck, heating his frills.

"Siha, I'm …" His forehead rocked back and forth against her shoulder, his fingers clinging to her sides. "... forgive me. Please, forgive me." She heard the threat of tears in his cracking voice.

"Hey." She tugged at his crest, but he didn't look up at her. "Hey, look at me."

He took a deep breath, tilting his head back, meeting her gaze with troubled eyes; emerald irises just visible in the dim light. It's what she wanted, to be able to see his eyes when he looked up at her; it was one of the reasons she'd crawled on top of him, despite her aches and pains, instead of letting him take the reins. Now the desperation and despair she saw there ripped through her heart.

She pressed her other hand against his face, her thumb brushing over his cheek and jaw. "It's alright. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I did. I thought I could …." He shook his head, dropping his gaze. "My deepest apologies." His hands slid away from her, his shoulders sagging.

She rested her forehead against his. "Thane, stop apologizing. It wasn't something you meant to do, right?"

"Of course not!" He pulled back enough to meet her gaze again. "Siha, I'd never intentionally do something so callous, so hurtful to you."

"Then you have nothing to apologize for." She brushed her lips against his. "I'm not hurt." And she wasn't. A younger version of her might've been, once upon a time, but not anymore. She kissed him again, this time she felt his lips purse against hers. "I promise," she whispered against his mouth, rolling her hips a little, feeling him twitch inside of her in response. A small moan tickled her throat and she swallowed, moving against him a little more, testing the waters. "Do you want me to stop?" God she didn't want to stop, but if he needed her to, she wouldn't push.

He made a raspy sound, his hand coming to rest on her hip. She leaned back, finding the spark of lust returning to his gaze. Running her hands over his shoulders, she pushed herself up a couple of centimeters, fighting back the urge to tighten around his length. He sucked in a ragged breath, his fingertips pressing into her hip.

She held her position there. "You have to tell me if you want me to stop."

He leaned into her, his other hand splaying out over her back. "No." His voice croaked and he licked his lips. "I don't want you to stop." He tugged on her hip, pulling her down while lifting himself up to meet her.