Chapter 14: Played

Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.

Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.

#

She felt his talons clench beneath her hand before he withdrew his arm. Maybe he doesn't like to be touched, Cass thought. Wouldn't be the first person I've met like that.

Or maybe he just doesn't like me, she worried internally.

"Er, thanks," he grunted. The turian's voice sounded more gravelly than normal and he cocked his head. Shit, she cursed herself. She'd made him uncomfortable again.

An awkward moment began to stretch between them, outlined by the sounds of simply living. As the day came to a close and the night opened its bleary eyes, Cass thought this was when the Citadel truly came to life. The diversity of its people was more apparent and their differences seemed to fade into the background as they all embraced the things they all had in common, most often the desire to break free of inhibitions, whatever size, shape, or color those reservations may be.

Her companion's words brought her out of a reverie. "Have you ever left the Citadel?" Vadix asked, his voice somehow sounding too loud and yet so soft, suspended in the air.

Shaking her head, Cass replied, "No, never. I want to though. Just never had the time or the means." She tried to smile, but she knew it didn't reach her eyes. Then she saw him seeing her face—she couldn't bear for him to pity her so she asked the first question that came to mind, "What's your favorite color?"

Vadix' brow plates drew together and his mandibles drew in closer to his face. It seemed like he was frowning. "What do you mean?" He sounded even more perplexed than he looked.

The human folded her arms and leaned back in her seat, peering at him in concentration. Vadix shifted in his seat, glancing down at his lap then back into her eyes before casting his gaze around. She knew she was making him excessively uncomfortable, but she needed answers. And not just about his favorite things.

"I just can't figure you out," Cass finally sighed as she rested her elbows on the table, palms steepled below her chin. "And see, that's not normal for me. I'm sort of a people expert, remember? Now, I will be the first to admit that turians aren't as easy to read as humans or asari, and sometimes even salarians, but you're more difficult than most."

He seemed to be on the verge of saying something, his mouth parted, so she stopped to let him speak.

Except Vadix only continued to stare blankly at her.

Raising an eyebrow at him, she prompted, "You wanted to say something?"

He cleared his throat, looking away again, "Well, yes, but it's not technically my turn since I never actually answered your question."

Cass scoffed lightly and his dark eyes darted back to her face. The emotions under his surface gave her pause, stopping her teasing if potentially cutting remark in its tracks.

Suddenly she remembered what he'd said only minutes before: I don't have any allies.

Another comment came to mind: I don't have any friends, he'd stated emphatically.

Finally, the pieces clicked together and she knew what he needed.

Smiling brightly at her turian, Cass offered, "That's okay; it's not a hard rule. You go. Ask away."

One eye narrowed as he slowly turned his head. "This feels like a trick," he murmured suspiciously.

The human tried to hide her grin but couldn't help it.

"See!" he exclaimed, pointing a single very sharp-looking talon at her. "You're doing that thing again, where you say one thing but mean something else entirely!" His accusing glare made her giggle.

Cass tried to compress her lips into a non-mocking expression. This would never work if he thought she was out to get him all the time. "Vadix," she huffed, failing to keep all teasing tones out of her communication.

After glancing away for a moment, pretending to be exasperated, she looked back at him and gave him a softer smile. "I promise you, you can ask me anything you want to know. That's how friendship is supposed to work. And I understand that you don't have a lot of first-hand experience in this regard, but I do," she continued, hoping her imploring attitude was helping and not hindering things, wishing she could just reassure him with her touch. "That's actually exactly what I do for people. And that's what I'd like to do for you. If you'll let me."

She looked up at him through her lashes, hoping she looked contrite and harmless. Until now, Cass hadn't realized just how much she wanted him to trust her, to let her into his life. They'd shared a good moment—excellent really, she thought—when he'd opened up about his mom, but rather than sating her the experience had only served to make her greedy.

That little taste of turian was all it took, and she was hooked.

But he didn't need to know she was nursing a budding addiction. All Vadix needed was a friend.

And she could be that for him.

Even if that was all it was.

The seconds seemed to drag on until finally he met her gaze again. Mandibles fluttering slightly, he parted his mouth to speak.

Her own mouth parted in anticipation.

"Okay. I'd like that," he agreed. The words seemed to hum, nearly lifelike in their almost three-dimensional quality. "Friends."

#

It was his first time "out"—that was what it was called, right?—and Vadix was certain he'd botched it before they'd even ordered.

First, he couldn't seem to follow what his new partner was saying. Sure, he understood the meaning of her words, and his translator seemed to be working just fine. But he had a feeling she was communicating beyond mere words. And dunce that he was, he had no idea what she was trying to tell him.

Then, that awful question "game" she'd started and he'd ended. No, he hadn't just ended it. That was inaccurate. Vadix had masterfully, devastatingly, well and truly fucked it up.

Like he always seemed to do.

But somehow, she'd managed to forgive him and even offered to be his friend. That was unexpected.

Unexpectedly pleasant too.

The turian wondered if everyone felt like this when they became friends with someone. Was it always so exhilarating? And terrifying?

It took him longer than it should have for him to notice her fingers tapping his forearm. A soft grin rested across her lips and her eyes sparked. "You were saying?" Cassana prompted.

"Right," he huffed. Feeling nervous, he didn't know how to begin. "Um, well, I guess I was curious about your 'clients'…" The human's face darkened momentarily and he changed course, fearing he would push her away just when he was starting to make some progress. "How many turians have you helped?"

"Oh!" Her mouth matched her quiet exclamation before taking on a thoughtful tilt. "Well, since I started keeping track, I'd say only half a dozen or so. But I've been trying to help people for longer than I thought of it as my own personal brand of free consulting."

Vadix pondered this then asked, "And how do you select new clients? Are you into marketing at all?"

Giggling, she shook her head. "No, though that would be interesting. I just approach people that I think I could help, whenever I can."

"But that just sounds like service, which is commendable. So why do you call them 'clients' instead of 'friends'?" He felt confused, like she was withholding a crucial piece of the puzzle.

His bewilderment must've been apparent on his face. "I realize it doesn't make a lot of sense," Cassana admitted. "I'm just worried that if I tell you everything, you won't want anything to do with me anymore." She looked away, shoulders hunched and suddenly appearing fragile and small.

The turian sat back in his chair, utterly mystified. "But you're…" he trailed off, unable to find a word that would accurately and adequately sum up his feelings. Finally he settled on, "But you're a good person." Internally he cringed—it had sounded a lot better in his head. Out loud, he knew it sounded lame.

Peeking up at him from beneath short black fringe, she gave him a quaint smile, her lips hiding a secret.

"What?" Vadix asked, nearly dumbstruck. He'd spent years now working with humans but this one continued to surprise him with her expressions, both physical and verbal.

She glanced away again, still trying to cover her sneaking grin, "Oh, nothing."

Frowning, he tried probing again, "But you said you'd answer my questions. Are there certain topics that are off limits?" He knew he sounded like a juvenile, but Vadix really didn't know how to navigate positive relationships beyond the one he had with his parents.

"You're funny, you know?" she teased, finally looking him square in the eye.

She still didn't answer, he mused. Despite his curiosity, Vadix resolved, Perhaps it's best if I avoid asking about her consulting work. More than anything, he did not want to push her away with his blundering conversation.

At least he wasn't shit in the training room.

Saved for the moment from yet more awkward dialogue, their waiter arrived with food. Vadix dug in with enthusiasm—genuinely surprised by the flavors, given that he'd been too distracted by his companion to read and ordered the first edible thing he saw on the menu. He did try to remember the manners his mother had taught him, but he also tried to keep Cassana talking so that he wouldn't have to flounder again.

Over the course of the meal, they discussed training plans for the next few days. The human mentioned wanting to practice more at the firing range, and she tried asking him for more details about the various weapons available for use. After as brief an answer as possible, Vadix encouraged his new friend to tell him more about human facial expressions and how they indicated to different emotions. Cassana launched into a lecture on what she called "micro-expressions". He thought it was fascinating, but likely due more to the micro-expressions she wore than the ones she explained.

Soon enough they'd finished eating and paid for the check—the turian, who managed to pay for both of them before the human could even protest, mentally congratulated himself for his speed. Then, continuing his pattern of chivalry, Vadix began to walk Cassana home.

"You really don't have to do this," she said again, gesturing at their moving feet while watching his face.

He reached out to her, gingerly placing a talon on her shoulder. "Please, I want to," he assured her.

"Well, if you insist," she muttered, but she sounded pleased even as she looked back at the ground.

Neither of them spoke.

Vadix noticed he was still touching her.

He probably should've dropped his arm already. Was this normal? Was this weird?

It felt weird.

But now it had gone on so long it felt weird to stop.

Spirits, he mentally chastised himself. She's going to think you're socially incompetent.

Which, the turian realized, was technically true.

He wanted to claw his own eyes out, but that didn't seem like a good reason to let go of her.

"You know," her voice brought him back to the present. "You continue to surprise me, Vadix."

Glancing down into her face, he saw no mockery or disdain. In fact, she seemed… almost happy about it. This surprised him. "Is that a good thing?" Vadix wondered aloud.

She made one of those snorting laugh sounds, "In this case, yes. If you ask me, not all surprises are good. But you?" Cassana paused, a smile stretching across her lips. "Definitely a good one."

"Oh," was all he could muster in response.

Several more steps passed in silence.

"Don't you want to know why?" she prodded him, with an accompanying elbow to the waist.

Vadix gasped.

Not from pain, she hadn't used enough force for that.

But from arousal.

No one ever touched him there.

It just wasn't done among platonic turians.

Unless…

Was Cassana flirting with him?

Don't be ridiculous, he stammered internally, his thoughts not quite coherent. It was only because his waist was about level with her arm.

Shaking his head, he managed to respond, "Um, sorry, what?"

"Well, don't you want to know how you surprised me?" She stopped then in front of a battered looking door.

Vadix was still trying to catch up with her side of the conversation. "Oh, uh, sure." He was a literal poet.

A peculiar expression took over her face. "You walked me home, like a perfect gentleman, yet the whole time you held onto my shoulder, like a possessive pimp." Pausing long enough for his heart to skip a couple beats as he grasped what she was saying, the human finished, "And I'm not sure which version of you I'd prefer."

Then she stood on her toes and, resting one hand on his chest, she pressed her lips to his mandible.

"Night. See you tomorrow," she murmured.

He caught the barest glimpse of pink-tinged cheeks before she closed the door in front of his dumbfounded face.