Note: Sorry about the delay but the word count is HIGH so hopefully that makes up for it.
The shore leave segments are a bit like this. Short titles, long chapters.
Cora Harper folded her arms before her sharp eyes flashed his way, assessing him keenly over the circular table that separated them, "And you say you've had no luck tracking the sniper involved in the original attack?"
"We attempted to apprehend him the days following, but we think he was tipped off ahead of us. He just managed to escape after a brief altercation," Reyes' hand twitched to his side at the memory of the pain in his ribs. He dropped his eyes to his omni-tool, swiping several message notifications from the screen after scanning them briefly, "however we haven't been able to get a lead on him since."
It was almost the truth.
"Shit!" Liam Kosta, who was stood on Cora's left-hand side, dropped his fist on the table top frustratedly. "Dropped the ball a bit there didn't you?"
"I have already passed on his information to SAM so the Initiative can release an all-points bulletin if they wish as he is likely no longer on Kadara," Reyes continued, before switching his gaze to Kosta, "and at the time I was far more concerned with ensuring the Pathfinder's immediate safety. Should I not have been?"
Kosta glared at Reyes, clearly still smarting from their last dispute, the one they'd had the very day of the original attack. Kosta opened his mouth to speak again, lines around the bridge of his nose furrowing, before he was interrupted.
"Oh, don't start…" the engineer, Gil, muttered under his breath.
The redhead was stood closest to Reyes and as Reyes cast a sidelong glance at him Gil smirked back, cheek twitching as though he was amused.
"What did you get out of the remaining outcast, the turian?" Cora asked, fingers tapping impatiently against her tricep.
Reyes sighed, "Very little, that is to say, nothing at all."
"That's… odd. Word is the Collective is extremely thorough when attempting to extract information," Vetra posed, speaking for the first time since their conversation began.
Liam's face twisted darkly as Vetra lingered over the word 'thorough' and Cora let out a soft sigh.
"This whole thing stinks," Drack added, unhelpfully.
Whilst they were really just making conversation (it was not as though any real decisions could be made until the Pathfinder returned) Reyes didn't doubt that some members of the crew viewed this as a golden opportunity to interrogate him, to uncover any deception they thought the Pathfinder too soft on him to catch. Reyes half regretted leaving his escort at the door.
"You shouldn't believe everything you hear," Reyes responded, meeting the turian's sceptical gaze, "besides which, he couldn't talk much because he's dead."
"Dead?" Cora blanched.
She and Vetra exchanged significant glances and the krogan let out a dark, rich laugh. Reyes' hand slid down to settle on the reassuring weight of the holster on his hip.
"I knew we should've pushed for the Initiative to take custody of him," Kosta sighed, leaning away from the table, suspicious eyes not leaving Reyes' face. It was a wonder his pupils hadn't left permanent scorch marks.
"He died on the way to HQ. Bled to death, you can blame that one on our dear Pathfinder," Reyes feigned a grimace.
Still, they didn't believe him. And why should they? It wasn't as though he was being altogether honest with them, even if he was about this. Distrust was inlaid in every one of the thousand creases that spanned Drack's tree bark skin, whilst Vetra was wound up all tight, pointed shoulders stiff and spikey in her armour. Kosta was, as always, a pacing, petulant dog howling, begging to be let off the lead. Though they'd always treated him amiably, even Cora and Gil looked dubious, Gil's tapering eyebrow flicking up towards his hairline. In addition to the five clustered around the table, Kallo Jath was also present in the Tempest's meeting room. The pilot was stood to one side, one arm resting on the other, rubbing the tips of his fingers together, dark eyes unfocused as though he wasn't listening, though Reyes was sure this disinterest was entirely feigned.
Reyes continued, begrudgingly, smoothing a hand through his hair in a disarming way, "You can have the body for an autopsy if you require it. It's not… pretty though."
Cora leant forward sounding tired, planting her hands on the table, "I'm sure that won't be necessary. Though of course, it is up to Ryder."
The tension in the air alleviated a little at Cora's words even though no one else said anything. It was clear that when the Pathfinder wasn't present Cora had garnered enough respect that the others had no difficulty following her lead by default.
Gil yawned widely and patted Reyes on the shoulder, "You'll have to excuse us, all of us that made it here are running on about 2 hours sleep and we're a bit tetchy."
That so many of the crew had jumped halfway across the galaxy in under 12 hours when they'd heard Sara was in peril would have surprised him before he became better accustomed with the Pathfinder, but by now he was used to people reacting towards her in extraordinary ways. After all, hadn't she had an effect even on him? Where the rest of the team were he wasn't sure, but he very much doubted it would be long before they too arrived on Kadara.
Reyes exhaled sharply. He'd had little time to acclimatise to the day's events. He'd woken, unbearably hot, opening his eyes to find Sara's form pressed against him in such a way he was already stiff, breath catching in his throat. Just waking up to her presence at all felt strange and new yet pleasing in a way that it was strong enough to override the old, familiar voice in his head that told him allowing her near him like this would only end in disaster, as any such closeness with someone always did. Then she'd brushed against him, making a noise in her throat as she awoke that caused him to grin into her neck. Not ten minutes later he'd been hastily dressing, throwing a flightjacket on over his clothes, grumbling before he and Sara made their way to the recently docked Tempest. He'd since decided he really needed to have a discussion with the fucking AI about the necessity of passing on information that had in this instance had all the impact of kicking a beehive, with the particular hive in question being the Tempest, its crew bees frantically buzzing to the defence of their queen. Thus Reyes was, still fairly bleary-eyed, cross at being dragged away from what had been setting up to the most pleasant way he'd awoken in quite some time, stood in front of most of the Pathfinder team whilst Sara had been accosted by her ship's doctor who'd demanded an immediate physical examination as soon as they had boarded.
"Ryder, she's alright though?" Kosta asked, and his were not the only eyes that trained on Reyes' face somewhat anxiously.
Shaken out of inattentiveness Reyes blinked and looked at the other man but before he could speak, a voice interrupted him.
"You shouldn't worry about my sister, she just likes to make an entrance. Arriving in a flaming shuttle? Pretty great way to make sure everyone remembers you," a new voice remarked, light and amiable, a sounded partnered by the door behind Reyes swishing open.
Cora laughed and muttered under her breath. She shifted her long fringe behind one ear, "A family trait evidently."
Reyes turned, catching himself before the surprise he felt carried across his face. A man that could only be Scott Ryder was grinning at him, and it was a grin that was so precisely his sisters' it was unnerving, his cheeks dimpling in the same way, his blue eyes somehow catching all the light in room just like hers. Reyes half expected Scott to shake his hand, he looked like a hand-shaker, but instead he joined them in standing around the table, bumping Reyes' arm companionably as he did so. Of all the ways he'd imagined meeting Sara's brother (and it had crossed his mind more times than he'd care to admit), being greeted by an undeniable beam hadn't been what he'd expected.
"Scott Ryder. You'd be forgiven for not recognising me since I got all the looks in the family, really, there's no resemblance here, at all…" Scott waved a hand vaguely towards his face.
"By Nakmor's hairy nutsack, they're both like that," Drack groaned.
Reyes blinked, nearly caught on the backfoot (clearly another Ryder family trait) before he nodded back, "Reyes Vidal."
"Mhhmm," Scott gave him a look that suggested he already knew a lot more about Reyes than just his name, "pleasure to meet you."
There was that grin again. In some places they were remarkably similar, but the longer Reyes looked the more differences jumped out at him. Though the shape of their mouths were near identical and implicit with the same playfulness, Scott's front teeth were smaller. Scott was also paler, right down to the blue of his eyes which were lighter than Sara's, yet brighter in a way that suggested a freeness perhaps due to a lack of the responsibility that beset his sister. Reyes nearly winked back automatically as he did whenever he met someone as good-looking as Scott, because in that regard the twins were similar too, but smiled instead. He also tried not to flash as many of his teeth as he normally would, "Likewise."
Scott chuckled and on anyone else the laugh would've sounded foolish, too loud to be allowed rather than infectious. Scott raised an eyebrow, "Oh, I know why she likes you."
"I always had a thing for strays?" Sara remarked, sounding amused.
Reyes turned far quicker than was subtle, evoking another chortle from Scott beside him. Sara had entered the room closely followed by the doctor Lexi, who bustled in after her looking grim, though less so when he had last seen her.
Reyes recovered quickly, "Are you sure you don't mean a thing for devilishly handsome exiles?"
"She did always have a thing for a charming accent and a mysterious backstory," Scott jibed.
Sara's eyes flicked over her assembled team and she stared at them for a moment, perhaps realising her words had more of an audience that she first anticipated. She flashed her brother a look that suggested she was going to do something to him later he wouldn't like, but Scott just smiled back, undeterred. Reyes wondered how his face didn't ache. As she passed her brother Sara tugged at the dark hair at the back of his neck with an impish look of retribution, and Scott swatted her away affectionately. Then Sara moved in close to Reyes on his other side, her fingertips trailing the back of his hand where no one else could see. She cast him a questioning look, as though she were checking the others hadn't grilled him too fiercely. He shot her a look back that said really? I've handled far worse. All the while he pretended the softness in her eyes and her simple touch hadn't filled him with a warmth akin to the first rays of sunshine after a long winter.
"Ryder, good of you to join us. We've only been waiting, oh… 45 minutes…" Vetra began, but there was mirth beneath, "your poor Charlatan here has had to deal with alllllll the fallout."
"I'm sure he has…" Sara had the audacity to smirk at him before she turned to Vetra, "I needed to freshen up once Lexi checked me over since you demanded my presence here so immediately this morning."
Aside from the still sore looking cut through her eyebrow, it'd be difficult to tell that only the night before she'd stumbled out of a burning vehicle and survived an altercation in which she had almost literally pulverised one of her attackers. She was wearing fresh clothes, dark black pants and a crop, and over the top she was still wearing the spare flightjacket of his she'd commandeered from his wardrobe that morning. He felt a warm tug of something like sentiment when he noticed she'd had to roll it up over her elbows where the sleeves were too long. Her dark eyeliner was curved back into place over her eyes instead of smudged over her face, her loose hair carefully plaited as it curved behind her ear revealing a freckle that kissed the join where her chin met her neck he'd never noticed before. Reyes realised he was staring and turned his body swiftly back to the table.
"Immediately? It took you 30 minutes to even get here in the first place," Cora responded, the corner of her mouth curving.
"I was," Sara cleared her throat evasively, "busy."
"Evidently," Gil sniggered, and Reyes felt his eyes on him again.
"We weren't exactly expecting company," Reyes added, hoping he was the only one who heard the bitter edge to his voice. "I, and that is by extension the Collective, have the situation under control."
Sara elbowed him in the ribs with a huff, "What Reyes means is I didn't need the cavalry riding in. I'm alright." She glanced around at her crew, "Not that I don't appreciate it."
Reyes turned to frown at her when Drack snorted, "The situation is so under control you've no leads on who organised the attack or why."
"They were Outcasts, they told me so themselves. This was just about reprisal for Sloane, nothing more," Sara countered, lines appearing at her forehead.
"Which could just be what they want you to believe," reasoned Lexi perceptively, who had taken up position next to Drack.
"I told you she'd lay a fucking egg when she found out," Sara muttered so only Reyes could hear.
"I have people looking into it but they've yet to report back. We'll have a better gauge on the situation then," Reyes cut in firmly, lest he be interrupted again.
"Whatever the case, Ryder, you're better off staying on the ship whilst we investigate," Kosta gestured at Drack, Vetra, Cora and then to himself, "then when the others arrive, they can…"
Sara shook her head vehemently, hand pressed against the tabletop, "That is not happening."
And that was how the stubborn back and forth started. Reyes didn't partake. He knew if he attempted to back up Sara's protestations at being confined to her ship that it would further solidify their intentions to dissuade her since the crew were still so distrustful of him. Instead, he folded his arms, carefully assessing the others, chewing the inside of his mouth indignantly, nearly breaking the skin when his eyes roved over Kosta's stubborn features. He disliked this powerlessness, being held in a situation that was outside his control. First the outcast attack and now this. He scrubbed his palm across the shaved hair at the back of his neck. Any chance he'd had to spend time alone with Sara now seemed slim to none, and the tightening coil this knowledge created in his stomach was just another alien emotion that only added to his uneasiness. Scott remained similarly silent for the duration of the conversation. When Kosta suggested, for the third time, that the Pathfinder at least remain on the Tempest for the remainder of the day, until they had more information, he saw Sara's hand ball into a fist.
"I am not some…" she flailed her other hand as though searching for the word, "damsel, Liam! I've already consented to a Collective agent tailing me all the damn time and I'll keep my barriers up. But this is still my shore leave and how I choose to spend it is my business."
Cora sighed, rubbing her forehead in a tired fashion, "Ryder, whilst we cannot force you…"
"You're right, you can't," Sara grumbled obstinately, "so now we've cleared that up. I'm going. Particularly as I am starving, and no one thought to cater this meeting for the energy deprived biotic."
The second-in-command shook her head slightly and shared yet another look with Vetra, who sighed.
"Look, conduct whatever investigation you want. But I'm not hiding myself away just because someone tried to kill me," Sara shrugged, pushing herself from the table as though that cleared the matter, "besides, staving off an assassination attempt is just like every ordinary Tuesday."
For the first time, Scott's face fell slightly.
"To be clear," Reyes interjected, coolly, like his words wouldn't have all the impact of dropping a live grenade in their midst, "no one has been given clearance to conduct an investigation on Kadara. Whilst we may have an alliance, the Initiative does not have jurisdiction over what happens here."
Sara turned to look at him, her searching eyes roving over his features in a way that felt intrusive in front of the others.
"I have agents looking into it. It's not necessary to have Initiative trampling all over this as well. Particularly if you were hoping from some privacy," Reyes added, his voice dropping low towards the end, so quiet in fact she'd had to lean closer to hear them.
The Pathfinder looked at him like she couldn't quite work out what to say in response to this, though he couldn't miss the flash of indignation in her eyes.
She was so close he could catch the smell of toothpaste on her breath before she turned away from him pointedly and spoke to her brother, "Scott, let's go. I should show you around the port."
Sara turned and marched towards the door, her shoulders stiff and resolute. Scott nodded his agreement, shrugging at Reyes as he passed him, before tapping the time displayed on his omni-tool and mouthing something like 'give it half an hour' at him.
He hadn't gone after her immediately. The Collective agent assigned as her security had already informed Reyes she was safe. First, he made his rounds in the port; collecting information, passing certain things of interest to particular associates, withholding it from others. It had been little over an hour before he tracked her down to a backstreet restaurant that was the only place on Kadara, perhaps in the entire galaxy, that served noodles. It was just off of the main plaza of Kadara port, sandwiched between several other establishments peddling 'the best' of what Heleus had to offer. The waiting staff that wound between passing potential patrons cajoled them with promises of delights never tasted in the Milky Way. They were all invariably lying. Most were barely any better than the food paste doled out on the Nexus. Some were worse. He leaned against a wall next to the entryway to the street, eying the growing crowd that was collected across the thoroughfare in response to the presence of the Pathfinder. Amongst them, he saw the Collective agent tailing Sara and their eyes met for a second.
"Keema, if you catch any Initiative sniffing around let me know, particularly if it's a human by the name of Liam Kosta," Reyes commented idly down the comm, fingers sliding over the metal of the lighter in his pocket automatically.
"Our allies are not so faithful as we thought?" Keema asked sounding only mildly interested, as she always did.
"They're getting close to things I would rather they didn't… at least not yet," Reyes continued, eyes flicking over to Sara as she laughed gleefully at something her brother said, Scott gesturing animatedly over the table at her. A sudden weighty sensation on his chest caused Reyes to suck in a sharp breath through his teeth, his throat tight with it, the palms of his hands itching like something crawled there.
He swallowed, trying to ignore it, "Especially now they know about the biotic drug."
"Well, that's hardly our concern. We're not the ones developing it," Keema replied nonchalantly, and he could hear things clattering in the background as though someone was moving something.
"Still."
Reyes looked down at his hand, remembering how his fingers had strayed over the shallow of Sara's back, over the now pleasantly familiar contours of her face, drawing soft lines on clear skin. He felt a surge of that same sensation, his heart beating quicker in his chest, the sound of it a low pounding in his ears. Glancing over at Sara again she was all brightness, even from this vantage, expression light and spirited as he watched her searchingly. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. A black stain, some outward sign of the vestiges of his corruption? Or a red cross that singled her out, marked her as affiliated with the Charlatan and therefore punishable for his crimes? Something was going on, yet he still couldn't get a clear picture of it. Why were they striking at out at her instead of him? Where the last remnants of the Outcasts so eager to avenge Sloane that they would risk the combined retribution of the Collective and the Initiative? He grunted his frustration and clenched his fingers over the cold metal in his pocket.
Oblivious to this, Keema responded, "Don't worry, I'll deal with it should the need arise,"
Her words were followed by the sound of scraping wood, shaking him from his own thoughts.
"Busy, Keema?" he asked, distractedly.
"I'm rearranging my office again, still can't seem to get rid of the smell of exile… no offence dear," despite her words there was no note of apology in her voice.
He chuffed a laugh at that, though even this could not render a lasting smile from his features, "None taken."
"Oh and do let me know if you find out anything about who attacked your…" she was searching for a suitable word, "beloved. You must be very worried."
Keema sounded triumphant, as though she had found the phrasing most likely to lead to his discomfort and knew it. Reyes automatically shook his head at her even though she could not see him, used to her hiding her sincerity in needling digs. She laughed at him anyway, and he swiftly said his goodbyes before she could tease him further. As Reyes pushed himself off the wall and sidled towards the restaurant, he pretended not to notice the eyes of the inquisitive crowd straying from the Pathfinder to him.
As soon as Sara locked eyes with him she was all fire and brimstone, far from the carefree demeanour she'd displayed only a moment before. Perhaps she was almost as good a chameleon as he was. Scott rose to his feet and mumbled a few words to his sister before extricating himself from the clustered tables and chairs that fringed the outside of the building, making off in the direction of the Tempest. He nodded at Reyes companionably before he disappeared out of sight and exited through the doors back into the port's main plaza. His sister flicked Reyes a dark look as she saw him approaching, banging down her fork on the table in such a way that several onlookers dispersed immediately. She still came when Reyes he beckoned for her to follow him, however, still begrudgingly slipped her hand into his when he offered it as they traversed several back alleyways and stairwells until they reached a familiar rooftop.
Ryder waited until they were definitely alone before she finally spoke.
"What was that all about? Stonewalling me like that in front of the others?" Ryder slid her hand from his and frowned at him, fingers lingering as though they regretted their withdrawal even now. Similarly, the ends of Reyes' fingers hooked reflexively as she pulled away, though she was sure she was likely reading far too much into that. As she regarded him Ryder cursed, not for the first time, the unreadable nature of his expressions. The neutral, almost-smirk on his lips was as infuriating as it was inviting. It had been so long since they'd had any extended time together uninterrupted, and even more maddeningly she knew this was skewing her judgement, just as those gorgeous fucking eyes always did.
"You can't just tell me what's happening in my port, Sara," Reyes replied, and though his tone was light there was an underlying sharpness to it.
Unconsciously they had stood in the exact positions they'd been in the first time he'd brought her here, exactly where he had kissed her that night after Sloane's party.
"I nearly died to come to your port to see you," Ryder muttered, keen to ensure he was not so easily let off the hook she was now only half-heartedly dangling in the water.
This reminder softened his expression, the stiffness she so often perceived in his jawline relaxing, "I know."
She was softening too, and she knew it. She wanted to punch herself. She pinched her thigh instead. Hard.
"The least you can do is let them poke around a bit so they feel useful. Unless of course you'd rather I leave?" Ryder replied, her words hissed under her breath.
Her stomach clenched uncomfortably as she waited for his response.
"I don't want that," Reyes leaned closer, hand straying down her arm, hooking beneath her jacket so he was holding her waist.
Well, his jacket. The one that smelt so deliciously like him. Focus Ryder. The one she didn't want to take off unless it was him that was giving her a reason to. Focus, focus, focus Ryder. She took a steadying breath.
"Why don't you want them to help with the investigation, Reyes?" she asked him, eyes training on his even as he looked over her shoulder and down towards the port below them.
Reyes seemed quieter than usual, less cocksure, his eyes had met hers less and he hadn't even said anything overtly flirtatious yet. This only exacerbated the tense feeling in her stomach.
"The Initiative cannot be seen as having too much influence. The people here are exiles for a reason; the Collective could lose their support if it was seen as being dictated to by the Nexus."
"I see," she nodded, eyes seeking his curiously.
His gaze was still fixed over her shoulder, and she could not tell whether this was a deliberate move or if he was simply lost in thought. This did not dissipate the heat spreading from the hand on her hip, however.
Reyes smiled, but it was thin and wry, "You don't. Look, I'll deal with this. And you will be safe, protected, while you're here," he caught the indignation in her expression with a brief glance, "yes, I know you don't need protecting but I want to all the same."
Thought his words caused a definite swooping sensation, as though her stomach had dropped through the floor, she wouldn't allow herself to relent just yet.
"The others…. they don't think I'm safe with you," she replied, stretching out the last two words, inquiring gaze still intent on his face.
He's still the same man that killed Sloane Kelly.
That caused Reyes to finally look her in the eye.
"They don't," he agreed, fingers tightening on her waist, "do you?"
His honeyed eyes were closely fixed on hers.
Lying's not something you try once and quit.
If he was such a fraud as the others thought, then why did he care about how she answered that question?
"Would I be here if I didn't?" Ryder replied, carefully.
"Is that a yes, Sara?" Reyes glanced down before reaching a hand out and playing with a strand of hair that had fallen into her face. His eyes fixed on that instead of hers and she wondered if it was just another way of masking his vulnerability.
"Yes, I…"
"You feel safe with the Charlatan, the exile leader, murderer, third-rate smuggler, liar…?" his voice had dropped to a murmur, but his tone rang hard as though it were someone else voicing cold judgement not him.
His words were enough to bring a chill to the exposed skin at her waist and chest. His thumb slid through her hair until it was brushing her neck, and it pressed, not hard, but firm against her collarbone.
He fooled everyone. Hard to trust a guy like that.
Ryder paused for a moment, eyes flitting over his jaw, his mouth, his eyes, "Yes. Reyes, I feel safe with you."
He looked at her, then… By everything divine in that galaxy and the next, it made her weak when he smiled at her like that. Whatever dark cloud had previously settled over his countenance lifted. Reyes was grinning as he smoothed his hand up her neck, over skin already prickling at his touch.
"Although I will admit your influence over me is… dangerous," she added, voice almost hoarse, her attention drawn to every brush of his fingertips at her throat.
"Hmmm," Reyes wet his lips and there was a dark, ravaging look in the depths of his eyes that made her breath catch. This only caused his lips to draw back further over his teeth in a triumphant grin, "We're well matched there then."
She was going to ask him what it was about her that made her quite as dangerous as him when another more pressing question arose. Ryder took a step backwards to put a little space between them since it was all very much too close, too hot, too much for her to conceive of even stringing words together without becoming otherwise distracted. His hand fell from her face.
"Reyes… did you not come here with anyone? To Andromeda I mean."
It had been gnawing at her for a while.
"Why do you ask?"
His smile slipped but didn't falter entirely.
"Well you're very…" she searched for the right word, "charming. It'd hard to imagine you alone."
"Perhaps," Reyes looked at her as though deliberating something, then continued slowly, "in truth, it's been a long time since I was close to anyone. No one you'd consider a true friend at least, and it's been even longer than that since I had family." She was surprised when he held her gaze, "In truth, I didn't want to be close to anyone."
"And now?"
"Now I have a nosey bartender and an angaran advisor both badgering me about feelings, and a bitchy salarian tactician fussing over my decisions," the hand that was still resting on her hip pulled her gently, invitingly, and she followed its path until she was so close she could taste his breath, "and you, who are probably to blame for all of them."
She smiled coquettishly, aware of every draw of his breath as his chest rose and fell against hers, "I'm sorry."
"I'm not," Reyes murmured, and as though to seal his words he grazed her lips with his, soft in their welcome. After a moment they parted and she breathed a faint sigh of surprise against his lips, taken aback by the tenderness of his kiss, a dizzying, plunging feeling in her chest accompanying the moment his dark eyelashes flickered, and his gaze met hers.
"Ready to start your shore leave now?" he asked, a warmth glimmering in the gold of his eyes, nose so close it was nearly brushing against hers.
Ryder nodded, eyes sliding closed as she closed the gap between them.
She was stopped abruptly as he caught her chin, "Where do you want to go, mi hermosa?"
"Anywhere," she replied, eyes darting back open, tongue thick she was so spellbound by the feel of his hands on her body, his smell filling her senses. She restrained herself from letting her eyes drift from the mole on his cheek to the curve of his lips, "Well, anywhere your agent isn't eyeballing everything we do, anyway."
Reyes chuckled, and it sent a pleasant vibration through her own chest, "That can be arranged."
As much as he knew he shouldn't, wouldn't, couldn't get too used to it, the smooth sweep of her skin against his as Sara readjusted herself was intensely satisfying, as was the dusky pink flush that still remained in her cheeks, still visible even in the half glow through his shutters. As she rested her head on his shoulder, Sara hooked her thigh over his sliding just so and his eyes jumped to hers, body twitching in response.
Reyes quirked an eyebrow at her and tutted mockingly, "Tssssk, Pathfinder do you work all your subordinates this hard or is it just me?"
Sara's free hand drew lines over his chest, down to his stomach. Her breath was hot against his cheek.
"There's a joke in there about you working under me, isn't there?"
"Well, as much as I love working under you, or over you," he replied, hand traversing her back which was still damp with perspiration, "I need a minute."
"Of course," she murmured back, "it's not as though we're in a hurry… unless you're planning on ditching me anytime soon?"
"Well…" he began hesitantly, "I do have some business tomorrow, but it won't take long. Unless…"
"Unless what?" she asked, eyebrows knitting together.
"You could come with me…"
He wasn't sure whether the flash of excitement, the light twinkling in her blue eyes, made him feel more pleased or guilty. It had been a question hastily asked and ill-conceived, the implications of it not even fully formed before the asking. Hadn't he only a few hours earlier been mulling over the potential consequences of her relationship with him? Was she not in enough jeopardy as it was?
Sara shifted so she was resting up on one elbow, a ray of light lingering over the curve of her nose where it pointed delicately at the end.
"Only if it's dangerous," she grinned back, top teeth scraping her bottom lip in a way that made her look a little wild and at the same time attractive and he was suddenly more aware of the heat of her thigh against him and press of her breast against his side.
"You are…" he shook his head affectionately, tangling his fingers in the loose curls that had earlier been smoothed into a plait but now fell into her face and over her shoulders, "completely mad."
Perhaps noticing the slight change in his expression, she slid so her body was over his, "And you like it."
"I do," he acknowledged, smoothing a hand over her side, grinning as she shuddered as his fingers trailed so feather-light they tickled.
As she looked down at him he watched her succumb to ever increasing desire, blue eyes wide and round, breath ragged, as he trailed one hand along her spine, curving over her ass cheek until he squeezed, the stubs of his fingernails biting into her skin ever so slightly. She squealed, half-surprise, half-lust at this, and he let out a heady breath as this caused her to shudder forwards, rubbing against his semi-hard cock. She crashed their lips together and moaned into this mouth, "Bastard," cupping both hands under his chin. Reyes curved his other arm around her waist before rolling her so she was underneath him, misgivings forgotten amongst the ecstasy of her cries.
He called her. Silence. He called and he called and he called for her. Silence. Stillness. Then a corner, a corner of the house so welcome in its familiarity until it was turned. Then… red. Crimson. Warm and sticky and everywhere and on her, oh Christ, oh Christ, oh fuck, no, no, no, on her, and then on him and then… A bang. The door. The door, the door. That face. That face so often reflected. That fucking face. Then red. No white. The hottest part of the flame, searing and fury and vengeance and… Pain.
Reyes' eyes flew open, limbs scrambling in the dark as she righted himself, his back stinging with pain from an impact that made no sense. He'd been amongst soft things; pillows, sheets, the warmth of her body and now he was on the floor still naked and she was…. Reyes staggered upwards, forcing himself off the floor next to his desk, back twinging as he did so. Sara knelt at the centre of his bed. Reyes stared at her as she stared back at him, her eyes cast a dark violet shade, raw with power.