She contemplated intimidation.
There were a lot of layers to fear, but this wasn't fear.
This wasn't playing checkers with Pon-Ifa pieces, though it might have been if she were chattering away, asking about his makeup and not being intimidated, if she weren't having intimidation sealed in her bones like they had been cured under lights.
Her defensive, self-guarding behavior about the discomfort of the shoes and the meaning of too deep of a neckline fell away and she felt the proper level of vulnerable that she should have been feeling. She was out in the deep sea and she could not swim. Not on her own.
Or could she? Did he think she could with the proper inspiration?
Was that the lesson of faith? Fake it well enough and it's undetectable from the original because everyone is faking it to a certain extent, the trick is in knowing the extent? Not lying to yourself about how much you're lying, knowing the extent that others are?
She did not nervously check to see if he was still glowing or consider if he'd sell her to the highest bidder. That was not what this was about.
She was out in the deep sea, she could not swim, and her escort was not concerned in the least despite the risks, the company or the goal.
He was the most frightening thing in the sea.
He was also the mountain that had come to her.
She had a few fallback positions he'd suggested:
1. Disdain. Be condescending, easily done through eye contact and silence. Feel free to intimidate as many people as she chose. Follow his lead with Hock himself. Hock needed to feel exceptional and in this case… curious and potentially jealous.
2. Collusion. Look to Benis as though the conversation were a certain thing… amusing or ironic. Not enjoyable or funny. Amusing. There was a distinction. Certainly not horrifying. Look to him and he would validate her impressions, she would be part of a set and he was unassailable. Theoretically even if she killed someone there… they'd let her do it if he were at her side. Death at these things was a common occurrence. Due to Benis Kerrat's reputation and standing with the host, nobody would try to hurt him and she would be safe. Still… try not to kill anybody, it was crass. Benis had never attended with another guest and with the care taken for their appearance, matching and coordinated, they would appear an obviously paired set. Allow that to work for them.
3. Boredom. If out of her depth, boredom was slightly different from disdain in expression. Disdain was judgment of a subject. Boredom was detachment from it. 'Look at them as though they wished to teach you to walk in heels, Lasam.'
He would not leave her side. He would not leave her alone. He would also not converse a great deal, Benis Kerrat's personality already determined. His attempts to teach her the art of criminal small talk had resulted in him illustrating again and again that she lost control over her composure and the subject matter and it was best if she did not speak.
'Enthusiasm, although charming, Lasam, will be a foreign thing unless you are speaking of a hated rival's demise.'
She had only a thin veil of functional purpose – bait and fascination. Draw Donovan Hock's attention from his guests and distractions, convince him to take them into the gallery.
She had asked "Couldn't you do that on your own?"
"With the word 'gallery' yes."
"So…faster without me. You're a terrible person, Thane."
"This has been established."
She was extraordinarily expensive ornamentation. He had gone to a great deal of effort. Kasumi wasn't even here. She did not know who was going to execute the mission. Why not just tell her that Shepard did it?
Was the answer in the word Drala'tem? Was he creating memories, images, situations he would treasure above others? Memories that involved her?
She wondered whether or not venom had more of a role in this than she thought. Expensive games in the dangerous deep were not her style at all.
But it was true she'd need to learn, because this was a field trip and the next target was preserving a council seat. More expensive. More dangerous. More at stake.
It was a terribly inconvenient time to realize that the serious business of necklines applied to many things near and dear to her, and one Turian for whom she would do anything.
She had another defense that came naturally to her and had since Mindoir. Stony silence. Extend that to ignorance of all things Drala'tem other than as something that would wash off her skin with a solvent. She would allow intimidation to soak in, that was necessary for her education in the ways of the world that did not involve being locked in her cabin with a brownie.
She was going to use abundant natural resources – feigned and genuine willful ignorance, acres and acres of endless and pure stony silence and intransigence, her homeland. Nothing intended for Alison Gunn would make its way to Cara.
She needed to discern when ignorance, disdain, collusion or boredom were required. She could avoid attraction to Thane…and even…attraction to Benis. He was…that was…
Yeah.
She would still, never, ever act on it.
She would admit to herself she wanted to touch his scars but she was not going to say that out loud. Would Alison Gunn though, and would Cara's curiosity and disconnected-from-reality impulses be sated and was that also potential Drala'tem?
So…it was the collusion that was wearing at her, the odd feeling of not wanting witnesses, as though she were truly doing something about which she should feel guilty.
She did feel guilty but could not pinpoint the exact source or whether it was coming from so many directions that it all turned into a majestic rolling guilt river along majestic palisades of 'what exactly did you think was going to happen?'
Was it knowing how it would make Garrus feel if she disclosed everything?
Was it that she expected to be trusted, and she should not have to disclose anything?
Both?
Was it about trust or the potential gap between perceived motive and actual motive?
What was her actual motive?
That came to her immediately in all the indulgences and given inches. Keep Thane happy.
All right then. Keep everyone happy with ignorance, disdain, collusion and boredom.
Kasumi will be safe.
Garrus will be safe.
Thane will be…
Thane will be Thane and I cannot predict what that will be, obviously. I can hope to rise to inspiration. That's what I do.
She contemplated, deciding that feeling like a ghost whose bones had frozen would be helpful to the charade. When they arrived he stood, but she remained seated, turned her head to him, appropriately ghostly cool.
He didn't exactly smile, but his features flowed into a different face, possessive, menacing and yes… she wanted to touch the scars and see how his face did that.
She was jealous of Alison Gunn for a moment, her access to fascination and exploitation of broken symmetry.
He extended his hand to her and she took it. He pulled her up and tucked her hand on his forearm and they had arrived for their field trip.
She was cold, her feet hurt, she was trying not to sweat, though she had no idea how to keep from sweating, it just felt like one of the unreasonable skills she should have developed in all this preparation.
Hock came out to the security checkpoint before entry to greet them. Well… to greet Benis. Obviously Benis.
She felt the need to not sweat again when Benis Kerrat's name for Donovan Hock was 'Nova in a rough purr.
Okay, so she wasn't always on top of things like this… but… that was…
That was how Garrus sounded when…
Don't bring him here, lock that down, shut that out, right now.
She wanted to run to the shuttle but didn't, suddenly realizing she was not really the bait as she'd thought. She was…
She was competition.
He'd said it, he had, looking back she should have realized. Benis was intimate and frightening and Hock was slightly offended, barely able to tear his eyes from Benis, but doing so because he couldn't help it.
"And who is this?" Not welcoming, not exactly. Not at all, really.
"This is Alison Gunn. She aspires to be your competition some day."
Hock laughed at the facetious tone and out of defense "Come to steal my business, has she?"
She smiled and said "Among other things."
Hock's gaze at her was more appraising, less dismissive, and Benis was amused without a smile. Humor had a different polarity here, flowed a different way, the laughter and the lips twisted and the eyes cold.
Hock said "Well, you are both welcome, it is good to see you, Benis, you have been missed."
Benis replied "I'm sorry to disappoint the hopeful if they believed I was dead."
Hock shrugged and said "Without your body, I would not believe it."
More rough purr "And with my body?"
Hock answered "That is a celebration on its own. Please, welcome inside, and it is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Gunn. You will have no better tour guide."
She inclined her head, smiled and said nothing.
Benis said to Alison confidentially "He is being modest. His tours are extraordinary, but I am happy to show you the ropes."
Hock's eyebrows rose "Ropes then? I look forward to it. Shall I see you upstairs?"
"Perhaps."
Security had some questions about Alison's unusual hardware, but Hock waved them in. "I wouldn't want her to think I was afraid of her, now would I? They are welcome. My authority."
Benis smirked "Thank you, 'Nova."
Hock inclined his head in a cool nod and was into the house ahead of them.
She could talk to him, softly, she knew, and there was no monitoring permitted at these gatherings, too many paranoid people willing to kill, suppression of technology required because they of course did not trust each other.
She asked "Ropes? Upstairs? What's upstairs?"
Benis replied "You do not wish to know what is upstairs, and we will not be going."
She scoffed slightly, disdain fully in bounds "You can't even tell me?"
He answered "I could, but if I did, the mission would no longer be the targeted, easily acquired item you hoped to achieve. You would have to kill everyone here. If you wish to see upstairs and subsequently kill everyone here, we must arrange for another outing, one with a stronger offense."
She had asked about maybe having the party raided, but there was no point. These were criminals, yes, but none would come here if there were outstanding warrants on them, that was part of the tacit deal of safety. Authorities could suspect all they wanted, but camping outside the doorstep would yield them nobody… or nobody who looked like anybody… who was wanted enough to have charges drawn. Guaranteed that each person inside was a 'person of interest' or under investigation, but security of the estate and the intentionally obstructionist rogue planet itself where 'extradition' did not exist as a concept made access difficult. The policy of the planet to foreign invasion was exactly that – invasion. Attempt to land with a C-Sec squad and suddenly the Citadel would be at very complicated and costly war with a planet that harbored arms dealers routinely.
These criminals were best caught outside bounds of Beckenstein for very complicated constitutional and criminal reasons and everyone knew it.
She smiled at him and patted his arm "Don't sell yourself short, Benis. I'm certain you can arrange for any amount of required offense."
"And you could arrange for the rest."
"So you're really not telling me?"
"Absolutely not."
"I will take your word for it."
"It is always best to do so." Smug dripped from the scarred rough of his words.
There was limited mingling, but most people did not approach them, only stared. Benis managed to shut people out with body language or real language, brought her to stand before some of the displayed art.
She said confidentially "It's not going to work. I'm not going to be curious. I'm never doing this again."
He turned and looked at her, away from considering something worthy of collecting "I could arrange for him to steal something else. Your hot chocolate mug perhaps?"
She scoffed again "Now you go too far, sir."
"There is a gathering every month, I have a standing invitation."
"I will give you leave to return as you wish."
"I can arrange one for you."
"I find myself occupied."
"Not with hot chocolate, alas."
"Someone will get me a mug."
"Then that one will go missing, I am afraid. These are dedicated criminals. They always get their mug."
The image of Thane removing every mug from the Normandy in order to tease her, having a pile of mugs like a dragon's hoard in his quarters and putting his latest prize on top of it with a satisfied smirk made it very hard for her to not laugh. The warm slide of humor turned into a clear and joyous laugh before it was cut off abruptly by her realizing she should not be doing that.
He backed her up against the most convenient wall, his head tipped close to hers and a hand beside her head, leaning in and down.
She looked up at him "I'm sorry, shouldn't have done that."
"Then I should not have provoked it, but I did, and it had the effect I hoped. You make excellent bait, Drala'tem." He moved closer, definitely close enough to look like he had her fully pushed back, but still with some distance between them…as long as she did not breathe, which was not a viable plan. Shock and weakness flooded through her, and she heard his voice near her ear "Close your eyes. Turn your head to the side, away from me."
His lips didn't touch her skin, but his breath and voice moved along the lines of intended caress. He murmured "Lift your thigh, slide it along the outside of my thigh."
She did it, heart pounding and breath scarce, head tilted back with her closed eyes and his mouth at her throat close enough to feel the warmth from his skin and his breath. His hand splayed as he held the outside of her thigh, pressed to the outside of his, net and scar and leather.
He breathed at her throat, the scarlet fake nails of his hand digging into pale ghost skin, and she did her best to stand up, not squeak, not tremble, though the trembling won.
He tugged on her earring with his teeth and then abruptly let her go, drew a fingertip down the side of her face and jaw line after a long gaze, then took her hand again, put it on his forearm, and moved to the next piece of art.
She steadied her breath before saying "You had a little bit too much fun there, Benis."
He smiled "And I see it as not enough. You need practice in front of an audience. You are getting better."
She sighed "I believe I have a good teacher."
He said, mock irritated "Good?"
She said quietly "You held me up so I wouldn't fall over. That was good."
This time he laughed, still twisted and turned and rough, but recognizable as humor and not amusement.
They drew attention but nobody approached as he guided her from item to item, with his explanations of the nature of the art and the acquisition, its relative merits and then his hand at the small of her back or brushing back a strand of hair.
Seeing Donovan Hock grow steadily more jealous and offended made her ask "You and Hock were lovers?"
"He does something with his tongue… I should not elaborate."
"Oh… you are… so mean. I want to know what the thing with the tongue is now."
"I cannot in good conscience show you. Perhaps I can explain it to the Councilor and he can describe it to you, but I am certain it would also qualify as a little bit too much fun."
"You are a terrible person."
"This has been established, Drala'tem."
She was however, perfectly safe, she realized and relaxed. His casual hands on her were intimate but not invasive, serving the dual purpose of his idea of fun and, his idea of how to get a job done.
Donovan Hock slowly came to the frustrated conclusion that he would have to take a direct approach, having gone upstairs and then returned. He strode toward them purposely, saying "I am bereft to see the two most beautiful guests not taking advantage of the opportunity to be seen."
Ropes… being seen… Sex upstairs. Sex in a way that would make her want to kill everyone here. She clamped down on those images and thoughts and kept her gaze straight.
Benis said "There is insufficient inspiration upstairs, perhaps something more private. Perhaps the gallery? If you would join us? It would be an incomplete tour without that, and I… and she… would be grateful for the opportunity." Benis's hand trailed down her throat and she curled into it, looking at Donovan Hock as though she wished to kill him.
Hock blinked and said "But of course. I have been an unforgivably rude host, please forgive me. This way." It took him a moment to tear his eyes from Benis and then a surprised moment where he had trouble tearing his eyes from Alison's.
They followed him down, Donovan ahead and her with her heel-paced patience. She did not lean on him.
The vault…should have been impressive, but everything in here to her was dead and disconnected, the information that there were people upstairs, likely slaves…
Likely slaves.
She had no interest in exclusive treasures that belonged in museums. She was no longer intimidated or concerned for her performance.
Benis did let go of her, did leave her side, left her to choose whether to watch Benis or the stolen treasures. Benis leaned over to kiss 'Nova and she did watch and did not look away. It took only about two minutes of venom-laced caresses and moans from 'Nova before Benis drew back and said "'Nova, you have a graybox from a gentleman named Keiji? Where is it?"
Hock pointed. Sitting on the side of one of the display cases.
Benis continued "Thank you. Have you decrypted it?"
Hock said "No. Can't crack it. Tried." His accent was gone, his voice softer.
Benis said "Good. Get it for me, bring it to me."
Hock did that, handed it over.
Benis reached for Hock's throat, pulled him closer, Benis's brow to 'Nova's forehead and said "You know you cannot crack it. You gave it to me because I offered to crack it for you. You will not remember when. You will not look for it again. You will know that I have promised to crack it for you. You believe me. If it occurs to you to wonder when you will see me, I will not be available for the next gathering, but you know I will get it to you by the second gathering wherever you are in time. You will always be only at most two months from being assured of your prize and you will not worry. You will only remember Alison Gunn when someone mentions her appearance, but you will not seek her out. You will remember only that I came here to see you, I missed you, and I proved it to you here. You will not alert security toward the graybox ever again, you will never mention it, you will only remember that you want me, I will return to you, and you will have what you need from my hand. Wait here for half an hour, return to your guests, do not look for me, I have gone. Do not mention me, the graybox or Alison Gunn to any other."
Hock nodded dully.
Benis turned and met her eyes, as though asking her if she wanted him to kill instead, hand still on Donovan Hock's throat.
She did not nod or shake her head, he already knew the answer. She wouldn't. Not in cold blood, not even if the man deserved it. It was the mission that mattered and they had what they came for.
Instead she walked to him, took his hand from Hock's throat and placed it on her forearm and they walked out at her pace.
They didn't speak on the return, her thoughts no less intimidated than they had been on the way in.
She could not think of anything to say that was not trite, or facile or playing checkers with Pon-Ifa pieces. She did not want to define it or label it. She did not wish to break a knowing and unknown silence.
He escorted her again to the salon, where she would have the experience washed from her skin but not her bones.
She would not be going back. She would not see Benis again. She had another mission. He would take the graybox to Kasumi and then begin his own process of reversal of whatever it was he had experienced.
He stood, looking down at her, both still wordless. She had thanked him, she had called him a terrible person, she had been shocked, she had made him laugh, she would need to guard her mugs…
She leaned up and kissed at the scar on his throat, whispered 'thank you' and then took her painted self back into the salon, still not a believer, but witness to strange miracles that defied death and simultaneously promised it.