Selar stood at the only window in his apartment, where the soft green glow of Tayseri poured in and trembled over sparse furniture in stripes of light. He held two hundred grams of tupari in a clear glass, drank it without tasting it except for a hint of sugar burning against his throat. There was a vid screen displaying the Mannovai News in orange on the wall behind him.

"The Alliance is forcing our hand further each day," Ambassador Jath'Amon was insisting to a salarian reporter. "Do you think they will stop with the Verge? If the Council won't stand against this reprehensible hunger for expansion, the Hegemony will."

The apartment around Selar was a modest size for the Wards. It was missing two end tables and every kitchen utensil. The bookcase was half full. And on Selar's coffee table, next to a houseplant topped with pink oval flowers, a model ship of the Tecunis sat untouched in its shrink-wrap. It was covered in holofoil stars while an excited exclamation of galactic common curled around it.

Official Union Memorabilia! Accurate, Exciting! Relive First Contact with friends and first circle!

Selar glanced at it, filled the glass again. He looked away out the window and watched the buildings until they were nothing more than neon lines and colors. Then he shrugged his jacket back on and went back to work.

And the Presidium was a wonder when he arrived there for his afternoon shift, yet it was somehow less than he remembered from his own time as a rookie. The trees were impossibly tall above him, with green leaves that never stopped moving in a computer-orchestrated breeze. Everything else was sky and metal and sparkling water.

But his eyes narrowed whenever he was overwhelmed by the sunshine. It was a relief to finally enter the softer lights of the embassy.

He had been working on the ring for a week and it was as tedious as he had expected. There was nothing to report to T'Ven. Any concrete answers about Tayseri were behind doors that only Special Tactics and Reconnaissance could hope to open, and the markets that the hanar called Opel had spoken of held no flowers, only an elcor who tried to feed Selar a cake dusted with moss and sugar when he stopped there. The batarians were too spooked to reveal anything at all.

In fact, the batarians on the ring had all adopted an expression that usually involved a knife pointed right at their eyes. It didn't suit the wealth that they flaunted, nor the servants and mistresses that trailed behind them in heavy silks.

More importantly, it didn't match their ambassador's confidence.

Selar waited at the embassy until Meiko appeared at the top of a flight of stairs. She was surrounded on all sides by humans wearing colorful formal attire that complimented her own. But despite the luxury of their surroundings, the human procession had the quality of a funeral to it, one where the deceased had been revealed to be a con man and a cheat during the eulogy. Ambassador Goyle wore an expression that was mournful and betrayed at the same time.

"This is an outrage," a man was seething through clenched teeth as they descended. "The batarians think they can threaten us and the Council does nothing. Nothing! Why aren't they helping us?"

"They don't want us here, Udina," another man with gray hair said. "You know they don't."

The line of Goyle's mouth grew very thin. She stopped moving and the other humans halted in one united, obedient movement. The man called Udina shrank beneath the combined gaze of the group, then gathered his courage and continued, "Ambassador, we have to start contacting the colonial investors. This isn't only about the Verge. Beckenstein-"

"You will keep your composure no matter what this is about," Goyle interrupted before he could utter another word. She began moving again, and the others followed suit. They reached the bottom of the stairs and dispersed into the greater crowd of the lobby.

Selar felt like he was the audience of a strange alien play. He leaned against a metal pillar as Meiko wove through the crowd toward him, crossed his arms and didn't smile back at her when she smiled at him. He had anticipated this moment for hours, dreaded it now that it had arrived. He wished he was anywhere else.

She was beautiful.

And what Selar wanted, secretly, was a line for her. Something cute like here's looking at you, kid, and a big clear umbrella. He wanted the fake sunshine outside to burst into a drizzle just long enough for him to open that umbrella for her while the vid credits rolled over both of them. But the only thing he had was a C-Sec issued pistol that he had been taking apart and putting back together to cope with the boredom of the ring.

There was also a message on his omni from Beran that another officer was in the hospital courtesy of an unlicensed and untraced assault mech.

"I'm sorry I've kept you waiting so often, Constable," Meiko said as he escorted her home along the walkways. "The negotiations have been difficult for both sides."

He dipped his head politely and didn't mention her understatement. "It's not a problem, Miss Ogawa."

And Meiko set her bag down on the counter when they reached her apartment, tapped her finger against her lips. She asked, "Would you like to stay? I want to make you a cup of tea to thank you for your trouble."

"I have to be going," he answered. He leaned over his omni-tool, scanning the room, and didn't look at her. He hoped he looked busy, knew that he probably didn't. No one wearing a badge on the ring ever did.

And then she asked, "Do you dislike me, Constable? Is it because I'm human?"

Her voice sounded like glass.

Selar blinked in surprise, looked up from the omni. "No, I just don't mix my personal and professional lives," he said. He added, tugging his jacket with his free hand for emphasis, "Tea seems personal."

Meiko considered that for a moment. She then went to a white porcelain teapot on a shelf and turned to him, holding it up by its wooden handle. "This is a professional kitchen grade teapot," she informed him quite seriously. She wiggled it. "It can withstand a thousand galactic standard degrees and it makes very professional tea for very professional Constables like yourself."

Then she smiled at him, waiting.

Selar raised his brow at her, but after a moment he closed his omni-tool with a tap against his wrist.

Meiko placed the pot in the center of her round dining table. A matching set of cups followed, then she dropped tea leaves into the pot and poured steaming hot water from a carafe. The steam curled around her wrists and pale hands as she worked, then trailed along her sleeves.

On that afternoon her dress was still white, but also light blue. The secondary color of the dress changed every day, still pressed and high collared with Meiko Ogawa hiding somewhere beneath it. The fabric had gathered along her waist and she smoothed it with her hands, then turned to retrieve a pair of napkins from the counter.

And he should get up and leave immediately, Selar thought as he sat down. He knew he wasn't going to. Instead, he shifted in the chair and his knees knocked the underside of the human-sized table. The cups rattled on the table, violently.

Meiko glanced over her shoulder. She set a napkin down for him and poured them both cups full of bright green tea. She said, "You're not very good at being tall, are you, Constable?"

"It's not usually a problem," he replied unsteadily, and carefully stretched his legs.

She sat down with him, smiled faintly. She acted as if they were playing a game together while she watched him bring the cup to his mouth. "See?" she said, almost in a whisper. "It even tastes professional."

Selar let out a dry noise that might have been a laugh if he was someone else.

He drank with her for a while, didn't taste the tea much. Meiko smiled at him like a cat that had gotten into the cream. And hers was the same as every other apartment on the Presidium with its open terrace instead of windows. It made a Ward unit look like a shoe box. She had hung a decoration on the terrace, one covered in planets and stars like her keychain.

He looked up at it and said, "You haven't been to the Citadel before, have you?"

"No," she admitted, holding her cup, "but it's more familiar than I expected it to be. The people here seem the same as anywhere else." She looked out at the trees and her smile faded. "It's been very disappointing so far."

"Most people expect it to be different," he said. "You should go see the sights. You haven't gone anywhere but here and your meetings."

"I should tell you something, actually," she said. The expression on her face when she looked at him imbued the situation with a far murkier hue than the teapot or his mixed feelings about sitting down with her. Selar waited for her to continue. "The batarian embassy is going to close when these negotiations end," she said. "They plan to secede from Council space."

"I'd heard they were threatening that," he said.

Meiko looked surprised that he knew. "They aren't threatening it at all," she corrected. "Ambassador Goyle believes the Council has been planning to let them secede without protest from the very beginning. Without the authority of Council treaties, the batarians will be able to overwhelm our colonial defenses in the Verge. The Alliance will be too busy defending its new colonies to advance its own political position here." She placed her hands in her lap, looked down at them. "I've been brought in with a few others to make sure the details on our side are tied up correctly, to defend against the accusations that will follow afterward when we're forced into conflict."

His eyes narrowed a little. "What kind of accusations?"

She looked down, didn't say anything else. The trees outside sounded like a cascade of whispers as the wind rose.

It wasn't possible to hide the concern in his voice. Selar set his own cup down and said, "You need to be careful who you talk to about things like this. It's a breach of confidentiality to even tell me what you're doing in there. Salarian C-Sec employees are expected to report to a Special Tasks liaison when they hear anything suspicious and I doubt it's different for any of the other races."

Meiko studied him calmly. "Are you going to turn me in?"

He let out a small exhale. "No, of course not. I've decided you're the least suspicious person I've ever met."

And Selar didn't talk to spooks. He had his own reasons for that.

Meiko smiled. "I'm glad. I thought you didn't like me at all. You seem so dour."

Selar had heard that a lot over the years. He said, "I don't mean to be."

An OSD appeared between Meiko's fingers in response to his words, like a magic trick. She placed it next to his cup. "Well, then I suppose I can tell you that Ambassador Jath'Amon has a group of diplomats who aren't happy with the current situation. They've been arguing in the hallways about several things you and your partner might be interested in. They mentioned Tayseri."

She had Selar's full attention with that statement. "What did they say?"

Meiko simply gestured to the OSD. It was a dull shade brown on the table and it seemed almost innocuous next to the brighter color of the tea. But she didn't know about the contraband investigation or T'elis in the morgue, so he decided not to press for more information.

Instead, he said, "You've been following the batarians because of Vantius, haven't you? That's why you're giving this to me."

"Yes," she replied. "I've promised myself that I'll do whatever I can about it."

"They've already closed the investigation, " he told her. "I don't know how much I'll be able to do for you."

The intensity in her eyes was startling. "Please do whatever you can. It's been difficult knowing that he's nearby while I'm in the embassy."

"Goyle didn't insist on an escort at all, did she?" he asked. "You asked and she went along with it so you could pass the information."

"Yes. I'm sorry for the subterfuge, Constable. You and your partner are the only ones who've listened to me about anything." Her composure faltered then, and she added, "I've taken up your time, but if you need to go anywhere during your shift let me know and I'll have business there. I'd like to help you."

Selar shook his head. "The last person who talked to me about Tayseri ended up in the hospital. It's not just people disappearing down there, it's more complicated than that."

"All the more reason my offer to help should stand."

He leaned over, slipped the OSD into his pocket. "All the more reason I want you to stay away from it. I'll look into this for you, but only if you promise to be more careful."

She was clearly undaunted by his caution. But she said, "I promise," and picked up the teapot again.

Selar wordlessly handed her his cup when she offered him more tea and he tried not to knock his knees against her table while he drank it. He didn't know what could be on the OSD that was so damning that she had risked recording it. Not even diplomatic immunity would save her from what was essentially espionage against another embassy.

And he felt a little grim about that. He didn't want anything to happen to her.

When he stood to leave sometime later Meiko reached up and began straightening the black fabric of his jacket, as if he was about to return to work after a quick lunch and she wanted him to look his best. "You're still cute," she said. "Your partner made it sound like you were mean, but you don't seem that way at all."

Selar remembered Beran threatening Vantius in the offices. "That's just something he says to confuse people when we're working," he explained. "He usually tells me I'm a marshmallow."

She smiled. "Do you know what a marshmallow is?"

"I think it means I'm a sap."

"It just means you're sweet," she said softly, smoothing his collar. "Will you kiss me before you leave?"

Selar looked down at her, surprised at how casually she had asked. A warm sensation ran through him, one that started exactly where her fingers brushed against his neck. But if he kissed her once he would end up kissing her a few more times until he wasn't thinking much about building model ships later.

"I've made you uncomfortable, haven't I?" she said to his silence.

He said, "Have you ever met a salarian before?"

"You're the first one I've spoken to at length." She hesitated as if it wasn't something she believed would make a difference until that moment. "My experience is mostly with batarian and turian cultures."

That explained a lot, he thought. "Salarians don't really do that kind of thing," he told her. He hadn't said the words in years and they felt novel in his mouth. "There's a spring season for breeding contracts and a lot of negotiating about who goes off with who while clout and credits get tossed around, but other than that it's not something most of us think about."

"What about affection?"

Selar glanced at her hands all over his jacket. "It's different."

Meiko's eyes widened in embarrassment and she pulled back from him. "I see," she said. She took a breath as she composed herself. "Then I've created a terribly awkward situation for you. You have my apologies."

"Don't apologize," he said. He wondered if he was a cloaca for thinking that she looked pretty while she was fretting about it. "Look, the truth is that I've done the whole song and dance a few times but I'm still trying to figure out if I'm bad news about it. And you're a dream, Miss Ogawa. I don't want you anywhere near me if it turns out I am."

"You're not bad news," she said, glancing at him.

Selar smiled a little, turned toward the door. "That means more to me than you think. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

The carpeted hallway muffled his steps as he left. Tomorrow morning Meiko would remain thirty galactic standard centimeters away from him, where his personal space was supposed to begin and where any amorous intentions were supposed to end. He wouldn't think about her making a pass at him. Maybe he'd buy some end tables.

And he would unwrap the Tecunis with its little holofoil stars.

The warmth in Selar's body chilled into pinpricks at the thought. He halted in the center of the hallway, looked down at his gloved hands and fingers, his jacket and then his shoes. A group of turian diplomats grumbled and pushed past him. He turned around and he headed back down the empty hallway.

He pulled off his jacket like it was stinging him.

Meiko was holding her teapot when she opened the door again. She looked up at him with dark eyes and a questioning expression, didn't say anything at all. The trees moved beyond the open terrace behind her.

Selar said, with his perfectly arranged jacket collar crumpled under his arm, "That's a completely average teapot, isn't it?"

Meiko's voice was still tinged with embarrassment. "It's just something I bought on discount before I came here," she admitted. Her expression grew defiant suddenly and she lifted her chin. "This is really quite awkward, isn't it, Constable? If you've come back to mock-"

Selar dipped his head down and kissed her in the doorway. The teapot fell from her hands and broke into a thousand pieces on the floor.