Disclaimer: Everything recognisable is Bioware's. Everything else is mine.
A/N: Welcome all to chapter 5. Thank you again for all the support and kind words. Knowing the story is being well received/stirring thoughts is a massive inspiration to write more. As was the case with chapter 2, in thanks for your support and the time you take in reviewing my work, this chapter runs long.
Now, I've had a bit of a think about all of the ways ME3 tried to make gamers feel part of the action, and one of those was the data pad app for the iPhone/iPad etc. That app, for anyone who isn't sure, lets your receive messages from certain of the people you meet, Thane included, once you reach certain points in the game. Why, thought I, can't there be a messaging service akin to that in-game? So Shepard can keep in touch with people he/she is far away from while he/she's out protecting the galaxy. Heck, soldiers in the field today can touch base..so there must be a way, in the 2180's, for them to do it too.
Oh! Before I forget. There's a little reference to a piece of music I adore in this chapter. If you catch it, cookies and congratulations to you.
Yours faithfully,
L.G
Day 6
A comm. program makes the day of two people who work has forced apart
Telling a person convincingly that Thane Krios was 'well read' would take a skill in understatement that the Drell himself could only aspire to. Through his entire working life, he had quite literally absorbed the written word where ever he could find it. Volume upon volume fell to his need to exercise his mind, pass the hours, days, or weeks between jobs, or distract himself from his admitted propensity to dwell on things too deeply.
He read on language, and had picked up three, besides his native Drellish, in the process. On art and culture, technology, religion, philosophy, history, and even gastronomy; regardless of the fact that it was something he would freely admit to having precious little skill in.
Perhaps his favourite genres though were literature, and poetry. His tastes here were broad and deep, and he liked to think that, in his memories, he had a personal library that was filled to the rafters with work after work that he could browse at his leisure.
And browse he did. Daily in fact.
Unfortunately though, the subjects which drew him in the deepest were also those that caused him to dwell on things the most, which made escaping dwelling by disappearing into his favourite tomes…problematic. There was simply so much in life that had been beautifully rendered by one poet or other...one great writer or other...that on a given day Thane found himself recalling passages that complimented things he had seen, done, or felt, and today had been no different. On this, the sixth day of eight he had to spend apart from his Siha, he couldn't help but recall a pair of choice quotations from two of Earth's literary masters. They wrote of feelings and situations much like his.
..
'Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an age.'
..
'Days of absence, sad and dreary,
Clothed in sorrow's dark array,
Days of absence, I am weary;
She I love is far away'
..
It hadn't helped him to do it. To linger. He still missed her keenly, and would until she returned to him. But now, as he sat at his table, nursing a cup of fresh tea in the blind-dimmed light of his hospital room, he found himself contemplating something that might ease the pain of being apart from her a bit. It was neither self-made calendar, clock or news feed; not a message just received, or one he had composed and was considering sending. What had him enthralled was one of the scant few short-cuts that peppered his Omni-tool's display. It presented itself as the Systems Alliance logo, Earth between high silver arches, and had embossed across it the letters AICS, which at full stretch stood for the 'Alliance Instant Communication Service'.
The AICS is a program that provides the families of soldiers out on active duty with a secure method of contacting their loved ones in real-time, via instant text-based messages and video-link. It comes in two versions - the civilian one, which is widely available through official channels; and the soldiers' one, which every Alliance marine has access to.
It works in much the same way a phone connection does. Civilian users enter the unique username and password that the soldier they want to get into contact with provides for them - much as they would their phone number - and the program matches that data to the account of the soldier to whom it is registered, then connects the civilian user to them if they're available to be contacted.
The soldiers' side of things is a hint more restrictive. Users log into the system using their military ID and personal password, but while they can appear available for contact from the outside world, tightened security protocols ensure that they can't initiate that contact. They can accept incoming calls, so to speak, but not make calls of their own.
Now Thane had been aware of the AICS for some time, Ami herself having introduced him to it and installed the civilian version on his Omni-tool, but using it had never entered his mind before now. It simply hadn't been practical during the time they were apart. He had been in turns too sick to make contacting her possible, and unable to reach her at all due to the unexpected blanket-ban on comms during her confinement.
Blissfully though, their circumstances were different now - getting in touch was feasible - and it was this fact, coupled with a morning in the 'library' and a decidedly spectacular bit of good timing, that brought thoughts of using the program to the forefront his mind.
The entirely accidental and abundantly well-timed moment had occurred not twenty minutes ago. He'd been enjoying his afternoon walk and had decided, on his way through a particularly light and airy corridor, to peek into his doctor's office and wish the man good day. They had struck up something of a friendship during his time in the hospital, and to Thane's mind, spending ten minutes chatting with an acquaintance about nothing in particular was infinitely preferable to slinking back to his room to dwell on how he missed his mate.
His plan set, he'd made tracks to the right door and had peeped inside, only to find the gentleman he sought engaged in a conference call with none other than Karin Chakwas. Seeing her there, her image oddly hued by the faint orange tinge of the terminal's screen, had brought a memory to him -
-My Siha's hands are warm in mine as she speaks, her voice affectionate and words…cautious. 'I know we've got Dr Chakwas on-board, and I know she knows your case...'-
- and while he'd ducked away before either participant noticed his presence, that one look and the memory that came with it was all it had taken for him to draw a couple of closely related conclusions. First and most importantly, the Normandy was safe. It couldn't not be if Dr Chakwas was able to contact Huerta. By extension therefore, Ami must also be safe. Had she not been, the doctor wouldn't be caught up in communing with other medical professionals, she'd be working to secure the situation and assist her.
He could rest a little easier with this in mind.
And secondly, since the Normandy was obviously within range of the comm buoy network, it would be possible for him to contact his Siha in a similar manner to that via which the doctors conversed.
Namely, through the AICS.
It was a compelling thought, make no mistake, but it was also something he had never done before, never used before. It was undeniably new, and new things always took a little while to make it through the numerous mental checks and balances he had in place before they became 'safe' in his mind.
After a careful sip from his mug, Thane set it aside and delicately extricated his hand and forearm from his Omni-tool's grasp. He then sat the device upon the surface before him, maximised its user-interface panel and tilted it up so he could look at it as he would the screen of a terminal. Once it was positioned to his liking, he touched the pads of his fused fingers to the haptic interface, and brought the cursor to the icon he was puzzling over.
Sitting back then, he regarded it cautiously.
No matter how he sliced it, he was in two minds.
On the one hand, since the program was Alliance-standard, it would be as secure and stable as it was possible for such a thing to be. But on the other…Losing his wife to his own inattention had lent him a distinctly paranoid fixation with ensuring his mate's safety, and he knew too well how men who were paid to hunt others could use even the slightest ripple in the proverbial pond to find their prey. He had done the same thing himself when he was tracking his marks, and while none of them had been part of the Alliance military, few had been anything like as formidable as his Siha, and he had never used this precise program to track them, the disquiet in his mind wouldn't abate.
Knowing that the best way to defend oneself was to know the tactics of one's enemy, Thane turned the issue around in his mind and looked at it from a new, though well-worn perspective. That of the person his caution was aimed at protecting his love from. The one he used to be. The prospective hunter.
The assassin.
Were she my target, he thought, setting his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers before his lips. Were I using this program to hunt her, there are certain details I would seek; certain details I must keep from listening ears. No dates can be mentioned. Direct references to her movements, and mine, must be avoided. My exact location must be omitted; as must hers. Our plan to rendezvous here must also be skirted, if possible.
Names too, though hers is unavoidably public knowledge, should be avoided. Very few people can connect my name to a face, but it has been used against me in the past. I will not risk Kolyat's safety to a slip caused by casual verbiage.
The depth of our bond should also be…left to implication. I've no desire to have her enemies see me as a convenient path through which she could be hurt.
But outside of these things...we should be able to converse with a modicum of freedom - especially since the AICS is not a public system. EDI's presence too would be a welcome buffer, but without first-hand knowledge of her status, I can't rely on her being there.
It took a deeply tense ten minutes of staring for him to weigh all of this and come to a conclusion, but finally he was decided. He trusted his mate's trust in the program, and while he would have distinct reservations about using it extensively until he was sure of how secure it actually was...he would try it. The text-based option first, and the vid-link if he felt it was a safe enough venture.
Turning his attention back to the screen, Thane sat his mug down and started the AICS, watching it cycle through its various loading screens as it woke up. It then prompted him to enter his pre-issued username and password, and a memory-
-My breaths are laboured with both sickness and emotion as Ami grasps my hands in hers. Her eyes glaze with tears as she speaks...She is leaving for Earth. 'You can only get a hold of these codes from serving soldiers. It keeps the lines clean...So...' She pauses, then swallows with difficulty, her throat dry. "The username is ShepardA.4747…and the password's AnAbleShepard.2148. There're no spaces between any of the characters. That'll get you into the system. After that, you'll need to make yourself a screen name, and then it'll connect you to me. Just drop in a message and I'll link up. Ok?'-
-took hold of him and released him all in the space between inhale and exhale. Coming back to himself, Thane pulled in a deep breath to ease the tightness the memory left in his chest, and said a silent prayer to honour the man who's life had inspired both entries - his Siha's deceased father, Lieutenant Able Shepard. She had explained the story behind the codes to him just before she left, saying it'd help him remember them. The fact that she thought she had to do that - had to explain these things to a man who possessed eidetic memory and therefore needed nothing more than a single recitation of each code - was a testament to how rattled she was at the time.
- 'My dad's mail account began, like all Alliance ones do, with his surname and first initial, followed by the last four digits of his service number. So, ShepardA..and 4747. That's the username. And the password...is kinda funny actually. The other people in his unit teased him about how his name was laid out. 'Able Shepard' is pretty literal if you squint. 'Good leader', right? That's not what my grandma meant by it when she named him, but that's what his squad saw. Like good soldiers, they never let him live it down, so 'An Able Shepard' is the first part of the password. And he married my mother Hannah in 2148..and that's the rest.' -
Concluding his prayer, his mate's voice tender in his ears, Thane blinked himself free of his memories and filled in the login details she had provided for him.
Username: [ShepardA.4747]
Password: [AnAbleShepard.2148]
He then clicked the [Login] button, and waited with bated breath to see if it would work. It took 30 seconds or so, but soon a new window opened, welcoming him to the program proper and inviting him, as predicted, to create his screen name and attempt to set up a connection with her. It wasn't a sure thing. She could be out on a mission, otherwise indisposed, in a meeting, or doing Heaven knows what else with her day, but he had to try. His mind made up, Thane guided the cursor over the [Create screen name] box and set about considering his options.
The Normandy idled, quiet and easy, within the heart of the Farinata system in the Hades Gamma Cluster. The black spanned out around it in all directions, rich and endless and silent. There was little to no Reaper activity here, relatively distant as it was from the central systems and their planets, but no one was counting on that remaining true for long.
As usual when she wasn't on duty and was out of excuses not to, Ami Shepard was settled at the private terminal in her cabin, writing up a report of the day's events. Today had been fruitful, literally and figuratively, and she cast her mind back as she considered what to include.
A real piece of luck had happened upon the ship a day back - on day five of eight if you want to count the way the Commander was doing. Five of the eight that had to pass before she could return to the Citadel and the arms she knew were waiting for her. On that day there had been three empty boxes left on the calendar on her desktop; one for each day she had left out on the job. And there were two now, this being day six of eight. Two more days to go. Time had slowed to a crawl between missions and she was becoming more and more restless and…
And-
This train of thought wasn't helping her write her report at all.
Fuck
Huffing out an irritated breath, she refocused and got to typing. The lucky break had come when, during a routine scan of the wreckage of a fuel station in the Antaeus system, Specialist Traynor's nose got itchy and she tracked down a whisper amid the silence. It was soft as a breath, and a hint garbled by the distance it'd travelled, but it was there. And better, it was coming in off an Alliance channel.
[-is - -mmandin- Admir- -s Lindh-m of th- Firs- -eet, Al-cne Na-y. A-y who cop-, come b-k]
Tracking the signal to its source was like trying to follow a trail of breadcrumbs across a desert, but after an all-nighter's worth of searching they'd made it to the Farinata system. The signal was stronger here. Again and again the same message played, repeating automatically.
Clear as a bell.
[This is Commanding Admiral Ines Lindholm of the First Fleet, Alliance Navy. Any who copy, come back.]
A whoop of relief had gone up ship-wide.
Another pocket of the Fleet had survived the assault on Earth.
Hanging in orbit around Juntauma, the remnants of the First Fleet looked like dots of gunshot residue against the planet's rusty orange-red. They were down to below half-strength, and they were limping, but it was obvious, as the Normandy approached, that repairs were being made and that Admiral Lindholm was welcoming of friendly faces.
After a brief and obviously relieved exchange over the comm, the Commander had been invited across to discuss tactics, and to bring the Admiral up to speed on current events. Although she'd only meant to linger for an hour tops, two became three very quickly, and a distinctly sheepish Shepard returned with a bent ear, some greatly useful intelligence on the location of the Seventh Fleet, a tale or two and four, count them, four crates of apples that the Admiral had going spare.
Sure they were more or less only good for apple pie now, being that most were a little soft around the edges, but still! She could taste the vitamin C just looking at the boxes on the shuttle ride back to the Normandy, and couldn't resist easing herself down into the foot-well, cracking one of them open and sneaking a couple of the fruits for herself as they docked.
It had been her plan to harangue Cortez into helping her drag the load up to the mess to share out, but the man was one step ahead of her. At about the halfway point between the First and the Normandy he pinged Vega, who pinged every free hand on the lower two decks.
As soon as the shuttle doors opened, she'd been mobbed.
Scrolling through messages from her old friend Wrex and a Salarian Dalatrass – both of whom would attend the summit she'd been tasked with organising – she chuckled softly to herself in remembrance of the scrum that'd occurred in the cargo bay an hour and a half back, and peeped across to her left at the bowl of six slightly bruised but shiny apples that'd made itself at home on her desk. The fact would never be known beyond the foot or so between her and the bowl, but there had once been eight in there. She'd already polished off two of them before settling in and forcing herself to focus on her report, and was mid-way to making a grab for a third when a bleep from her terminal brought her attention back to the screen.
An AICS conversation box had opened during her second's inattention.
THobbs was the screen name, and the sender opened with a word that should have filled her with instant glee.
'Siha'
Instead of glee though, a lead weight dropped into her belly.
She stared at the thing for a good minute, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure of how to respond. It wasn't shock that stilled her. She'd had the AICS installed on both her terminal and her Omni-tool for an age, having spent the entirety of her incarceration vainly hoping to hear from her beau despite the ban on comms, and left it running in her downtime on whichever piece of hardware she was closest to by force of habit. It was certainly possible therefore, for people who had access to the program to get in touch with her through it, but that fact didn't make this THobbs character familiar to her.
She didn't know anyone by that name, and while she was well aware that it could be Thane trying to contact her, particularly since her soul-name had been mentioned, she was still suspicious.
Sceptical as all-get-out, she drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly and typed, 'Who is this?' into the message box. The use of 'Siha' be-damned, she had too many enemies looking for a leg up on her not to be doubly cautious.
The reply was almost instant.
'You are unsure?'
Her brows rose at the tone this apparently unknown person was taking with her, and she was set on sending a rather intemperate response when a voice came over the general comms channel.
-/Commander/-
"EDI" she greeted, gesturing to the conversation window before balling her hands into loose fists to keep from fidgeting with the haptic interface. "Are you seeing this?"
-/I am/- she replied, an odd hint of something like self-satisfaction in her tone. Ignoring it, and the fact that the AI somehow managed to project the feeling that she knew precisely what was going on here and was enjoying watching her struggle, Shepard asked,
"Can you pull up a technical spec on it for me? I don't recognise the name."
-/The sender is accessing the Alliance Instant Communication Service through legitimate means, Commander/- EDI explained, keeping the information she gave out at this juncture as perfunctory as possible. She was glorying still in the ability to understand and in some ways process emotions, and found that she had something of a liking for drawing out situations that amused her.
-/The username and password they used to access the system are genuine/- she went on, unwilling to be openly obstructive despite how she enjoyed observing Shepard's 'I'm thinking this out' behaviours, -/and there are no detectable VI processes present within the data stream./- Smug then, the AI opined, -/I can also confirm that your gentleman caller is using an Omni-tool which has the same serial number that Mr Krios's had when he was travelling with us. But I advise that you seek further confirmation of their identity before deciding on whether to convey any personal information/-
"Gentleman caller? You're funny" Shepard snuffled, regarding the conversation window guardedly. "And you're also right. I can't be too careful...so…let's see here.."
'I'm going to need you to identify yourself' she wrote in her most diplomatic manner.
Settled in his room at Huerta Memorial, Thane chuckled deeply at the turn their conversation had begun with. Truly, he admired her caution. Since he'd never actually used this program before, he had needed to create himself an identity from scratch, so she was rightly suspicious of the appearance of an unfamiliar screen name. He had hoped that his choice might have reminded her of a conversation they once had - 'Do you read your philosophers? A man named Thomas Hobbs?' - hence THobbs, but since she hadn't caught it, he would need to be a little less oblique. Perhaps a memory would do the trick, like the one he had included in the note he wrote to her days back, or something about himself that was personal to them.
It took a few moments of concentrated effort, but as he drew in a deep breath for the simple luxury of being able to do so, inspiration came. He would begin with a specific memory, which would lead him to the larger point he wanted to make. Both would help reassure his mate as to his identity, and the second would make up the most overt expression of his affection for her that he could manage on a channel he didn't quite trust.
First then, the memory. 'An old song is playing' he wrote, 'It was fashionable once, and still is in some circles. The lyrics speak to me, and inform her choice of words. Do you dream in metaphors, Siha?'
He was confident that she would recognise both memory and question, for she was present for the former, and the latter was hers. During one of the long discussions they had enjoyed on their last tour, talk had strayed onto possible words and phrases they could use to make their conversations-by-implication richer, and 'dreaming in metaphors' had been one of her contributions. To them, it was both a segue into a conversation that wasn't to be taken at face value, and a call for caution to be exercised in speaking openly on insecure channels.
A moment later, his trust in the phrase's impact was proven to be well placed. Her reply came, 'Yes. Do you?'
'I do' he wrote, affirming the need for a modicum of discretion before adding, 'So when I say that you are, quite literally, the reason for every breath I take, I want you to understand my full meaning.'
It took a couple of read-throughs for what he was implying to sink in, but when it did Ami's heart gave such a flutter that she lost a breath to it. 'The reason for every breath I take' was not, as it could have been read, simply an expression of how much he loved her. Affection was implied, but there was more to it than that. He was referring to his lungs. The lungs that Professor Solus made for him using the tissue they both donated and that, without her human resistance to the causes of Keprals Syndrome, would not have 'cured' him of the illness.
She'd had an inkling as soon as EDI informed her about the username and password, and had known as soon as he asked her that question, but now it was indisputable. Her mysterious caller was definitely, unequivocally Thane.
'Jesus man' she wrote, a helplessly affectionate smile on her lips. 'The things you say to me.'
'You trust my identity now, Siha?' came his response. She could almost hear him chuckling as he wrote it.
'I'd trust it more if I could see your face.'
'Would that be wise?' he came back, ever cautious, 'You know how I worry.'
'Of course it would be. EDI's guarding the line.'
Though he couldn't convey it in words, Thane allowed himself a sigh of relief at the AI's vigilance. Curious then, he typed,
'Are you at your terminal?'
'The one in my room, yeah. I'm on nights, so I'm catching up on paperwork.'
'We have time to speak then?' he asked, wanting to be sure that he wasn't intruding before getting his hopes up about speaking with her face-to-face. When her, "We do. Just give me a minute.." popped up on-screen he gave a relieved huff, and appended his earlier thoughts about quite what could be safely shared during their conversation.
Caution is still warranted regardless of EDI's presence, he mused, but we can work together in finding our equilibrium instead of lingering unnecessarily on maintaining a facade. That said...there is nothing at all unpleasant about playing word games with Amial Shepard…
His earlier niggling doubts more or less settled, Thane had a look around to find something to do while his mate went about whatever business she needed to in the 'minute' she'd requested.
There was no need for a refill on the tea yet.
His books, bar one, had been packed in preparation for leaving.
His bed was made to his usually exacting standards...but…
The door.
The door was unlocked at present, and that had to be fixed.
There was little he wanted less than an interruption at this particular point in time.
After giving the screen another glance, Thane rose and made for the door. He engaged the lock while taking a quick inventory of the rest of the room, searching for anything that struck him as being out of place amid the studiously-kept neatness. Whilst he found nothing to speak of, he detoured to the foot of his bed before making his way back to his seat, and took a moment to sink his fingers into the rapturously textured blanket that he and his love had once shared, and would share again if he had his way, on their bed aboard the Normandy. While he had lived a near ascetic life during his active years, he had discovered a distinct fondness for simple tactile luxuries like this, and indulged in them as often as he could.
Then, as he moved to smooth the wrinkles his touch had left with its passing, a deeply becoming memory unfurled in his mind -
- She is all pale skin...dark hair...and beguiling eyes in the darkness of her quarters...My sight is keen, even in the dim, and in this moment, I am riveted by her. She gazes at me from within the blanket upon our bed...curled in its length and encompassing breadth...I watch her from my place on the divan...picking out the slivers of 'her' I can see against the billowing swell of rippling velvet...A foot...small toes…a too delicate ankle...and her face...Nothing else of her is visible.. ..Then…slowly...an arm emerges from within the folds...She feigns languidness so well...'It's too cool out there' she says, beckoning to me with a single curled finger…'Come in here...I'll warm you.' -
- and stayed with him as he somewhat mechanically straightened the blanket, and moved to settle in his place by the table once more. He smiled lovingly at the message waiting for him, 'Just locked my door to keep the yeoman at bay. Ready when you are', and felt his heart rate kick up at the prospect of being little more than a click away from seeing his Siha again. He took just a brief moment's pause, revelling in the anticipation, then clicked the 'vidcall' button.
A window opened up above the text-box they had been conversing through, showing a small version of what his Omni-tool's camera saw of him in the lower right-hand corner while the rest remained blank as the link was made. He adjusted the focus a little as he waited, hoping to give her his best side/
Then…a flash…And there she was, dressed to the nines in her blues, the collars undone, her white undershirt visible…the smile on her lips reflected in her eyes-
"Hey you" she greeted warmly, affection colouring her tone as she drank him in. He looked as well as he had when she saw him in person, his eyes bright and alert, his colours rich and breaths steady. Today's shirt was a shade of slatey silver-grey, as opposed to the white he had been wearing when she visited him. She decided, after a moment's dedicated consideration, that it suited him. "How've you been?"
"Restless, but otherwise very well" he replied, caught enough by the sight of her that continuing their tête à tête was, at least for a moment, a bit of a struggle. "And you?"
"Can't complain" Ami said agreeably, mindful to keep her words nonspecific and her questions as broad as possible so that her mate could make of them what he wished. "Been up to much recently?"
Thane inclined his head slightly as he considered his reply. "My routine keeps me busy" he said, "though there was some excitement yesterday afternoon. I received the last of the traveller's seven; the final precautionary measure my doctors have deemed it appropriate to take before I leave."
She frowned faintly, but her smile didn't waver. "The traveller's what-now?"
"The traveller's seven" he explained, "are immunisations against the seven maladies most commonly encountered by people who travel widely. It's just a precaution of course, but it pays to be prepared."
Now. Now her smile wavered.
Just a little though. She was more curious than concerned.
"Ohhh I see," she said, "Have you had to take others as well or-?"
"A couple of routine immuno-boosters, yes, but that is nothing out of the ordinary" he soothed. She masked it well, but the beginnings of disquiet in her were obvious to him through the set of her shoulders and the pinch of her brow. "All of the patients here who have been as sick as I was receive extra care when they are set to be transferred or discharged. Worry not. I'm fine."
"I know that in my head."
"But it is difficult to believe?"
It took Ami a moment to answer. She nodded before she spoke. "Pessimism was a way of life for a long time."
Empathy cut Thane to the quick. "As it was for me," he replied. "I've often had to re-ask questions of my doctors, just for the comfort that hearing the answers anew brought." He snuffled softly at the thought, recounting some of his favourites for her. "…'You're sure the scan was clear?'...'Might the results be wrong?'…'Are the drugs really working?'...'Are you sure?'...Tell me though-" A detour from their conversation was taken for the length of a tea-sip; Amial using the same moment to lean, snag the apple she'd wanted earlier and begin to core the fruit the a penknife she fished from her jacket pocket. "-Other than your shift, have you any plans for your evening?"
"Well-" Glad for the topic change, Ami showed off her Admiral-gotten prize. "-I went shopping for some of these earlier today."
"It looks delicious" Thane offered, giving the flickering image on his Omni-Tool's screen a careful looksee. "An apple, yes?"
A grin lit up her face at his recognition. "Yeah. Do you like them?"
"I've never had the occasion to try one" he admitted, his eyes following the dexterous way she manipulated blade and fruit, before cutting out a slice and biting it in half so she might talk while she enjoyed her snack. "But, with your recommendation, I shall make a point of doing so in the future."
"Consider them recommended" she said around her bite, swallowing it down and returning to his question. "Anyway...the evening…I'll try and get a couple of these down before they start to get really soft-" She waggled her knife at the bowl off screen to her left, "Got five here…Then it's off to work...Then...back from work…and then to bed at something like 4 in the AM. Lucky me." Rolling her eyes for affect, she quickly popped the second half of the slice of apple into her mouth and asked, "What about you? Got big plans?"
"That would depend on your definition of 'big', Siha" Thane chuckled. "As I mentioned before, I'm feeling rather restless, so I may slot an extra walk into my evening schedule before retiring to bed with the book I'm working through. Otherwise..." He gave a half-shrug and a charming grin. "I have no plans."
"You lucky swine" Ami tsk'd good-naturedly, "It's all right for some. Oh hey-" Perking up visibly, as if the thought had just come to her, she asked, "You said you're off home soon, right? Leaving the hospital?"
"I am, yes" he nodded, letting his elation at both that fact in general, and at her ingenuity in bringing his re-joining her aboard the Normandy into their conversation with the phrase 'off home', show through his smile. The fact that she considered her ship to be his home was…heartening in ways he couldn't quite put into words.
"I bet you'll need a serious grocery haul, the length of time you've been away" she mused, cutting herself a second slice of apple. "You after anything special?"
The question she spoke, and what she was actually asking, were entirely different and he knew it. She wasn't concerned about what he could get for himself. Indeed, it was unlikely that he would have time for shopping before re-joining the crew. Her concern instead was what she could get for him. The words 'anything special' and the way she spoke the question made that obvious to him.
Warmed by her consideration, Thane gave the question some serious thought. He considered a covert request for a couple of his favourite delicacies, for rare and exotic blends they could share, or perhaps for a drop of his preferred wine. He barely paused to sniff the lip of the bottle usually, but his return to the Normandy deserved to be marked with a wine of an appropriate quality that he and his mate could enjoy. In all honesty though, outside of those purely indulgent things that he really didn't feel right asking her to procure for him out of her own pocket, there was little in the way of material goods he wanted. His only real wish was to go home to her. And that…that was something he felt no compunction in alluding to.
"Truly, all I want is to get home" he said, his tone conveying a mixture of relief and a hint of fatigue. "I've spent over seven months here now - my privacy necessarily invaded to varying degrees on a daily basis. I can think of nothing I desire more than locking the door behind me, taking a long bath-"
"A Drellish one?" Ami put in gently, surprising him with both that formative mention and the clarification she added, "With warm sand and a hot cloth?"
"That very kind" he agreed, stopping himself from asking her about her knowledge of his people's bathing habits lest he imply too openly that the door behind which he wished to be locked was hers.
She knew of course.
It didn't need saying.
Her expression warmed obviously at his words, and he got the distinct impression, from the little wink she gave him, that he may well be able to have just the kind of bath he'd hoped for when he got home.
"What would you like to do after that?" she prompted, nipping her newest slice of apple in half and chewing it thoughtfully as she listened.
"Hmm...let me see" Thane murmured, watching her suckle a droplet of apple juice from her lower lip and, going on how she smiled, delighting her by copying the gesture as he considered his answer. "There are the necessities of course, brewing tea, remaking my bed, unpacking my belongings, and then...I think I will do what I've wanted to for the past several months, and retire to my bed with those closest to me."
"Can't say I blame you for keeping things low key" Ami mused, before changing tack and snickering, "though Mother Hen's been talking about throwing a party when you get out."
He knew of whom she spoke as soon as he heard the nickname she had given the woman during his protracted tenure in the medical bay, and chuffed fondly in disbelief at hearing of her plans for him. No matter how often he politely declined opportunities to be made a fuss over, Doctor Chakwas had a persistence about her that he sometimes imagined rivalled his own.
"Goddess" he sighed, playing up his affront at the suggestion to amuse his love, "must she?"
"I haven't heard a peep from her about it in days" Ami clarified mirthfully, "but she's mentioned wanting to."
"Well she may, of course" Thane replied, his manner both gracious and pointedly reserved, "but…"
"If you could hide away with your books, you would right?"
His answering, "Invariably", was so categorically deadpan that it made her chuckle.
"I'll tell her. Hell, I've told her. But I'll tell her again."
"My thanks" he breathed, pausing uncertainly before adding, "She knows I appreciate the thought, I hope."
"She does, yeah. I honestly think she was joking when she said it, but I wanted to give you the heads-up nonetheless."
"Thank you. I'm sincerely grateful to her. I'd just prefer a few days of rest before I'm needed for public appearances."
She tried, but Ami couldn't hide the grin his vehemence brought her. After logging away the 'a few days of rest' comment as all the reason she'd need to allot a healthy dose of shore-leave around the time of Thane's arrival, she quipped, "All right then Sere" with the barest modicum of cheek, delighting at how the respectful turn of phrase earned her a raised brow from her mate. "Instead of a party, how about we celebrate a little here?"
"What have you in mind?" he asked, the sound of a sharpened blade cutting fruit coming to him across the channel as he spoke.
"Besides seeing you well and enjoying your company, which is celebration enough for me" she replied, raising a newly sliced piece of apple in place of a glass, "how's about a toast to your health?"
A mirthful rumble escaped through the smile her beau gave her. "If fruit and tea are an adequate substitute for harder libations," he said, raising his mug and tipping it a measured fraction towards the screen. "Yes...a toast it is."
"To my dear noble Sere" Ami crowed happily, "May you live long enough for me to become better on the range than you are!"
At that, Thane actually laughed. "Such a thing could take decades" he quipped jovially, accepting her toast and sipping his tea as she nipped at her slice of apple. While his comment may have seemed, in content, not tone, rather untoward given the circumstances, he was not underestimating her chances. Her lack of skill with a scope was something she embraced with a jovial passion, though her response was not spoken in jest by any means.
"Exactly" she said, smiling as her mate caught her eyes. She could almost see his mind working as he decoded her simple, loving implication.
She was wishing him decades.
Yes. That was it. Of course she was.
Struck, it took him a moment to answer her, and when he did, he used the word she had in lieu of expressing the wave of affection that her allusion brought in a more verbose manner. That could come later.
For now "Exactly" was enough.
In the end, they spoke for hours longer than either had intended; another one and a half apples falling to Ami's knife before a chime at Thane's door, which heralded the arrival of his early-evening prescription, made them aware of the time. They'd canvassed topics that were neither entirely relevant nor entirely irrelevant to their actual circumstances, and tacitly agreed that 'dreaming in metaphors' had been the right way to approach the exchange.
It had to be that way.
EDI's presence be-damned, neither of them had any intention of spinning anything but a compelling charade for any prospective moles, spies, infiltrators or other such unwelcome third parties to their conversation.
When the time came, they parted ways after a loving, intentionally oblique exchange.
"Are you counting?" Thane asked.
Ami beamed. "Yes."
"How many?"
"Still to go?"
"Yes."
"Two."
"I swear to you, they will fly."
"They'd better. I'm climbing the walls here."
"As am I, here. Rest well when you rest, my Siha."
"And you."
As the connection closed, the now mentally exhausted woman gave a sigh, resting her elbows on her knees and bowing her head for a moment as she dropped out of conversation-with-Thane mode. Well...she thought, rubbing her hands over her face to help ease away three and a quarter hours-worth of talking...that has to be the best procrastination method I've ever come across. Hell if I'm finishing that report before my shift now.
Despite the fact that she'd more or less spoken her mind dry, there was one tiny little addendum that needed saying that she couldn't bring herself to utter over an open channel. Drawing it up from the very pit of her belly, she puffed out a long exhalation, leaned back in her chair, looked right at the ceiling, and spoke with pride and absolute sincerity,
"Mother of the fucking GODS I love that man."
The room had no answer for her, but she didn't care.
He knew.
She knew.
Her tiny little spot in the universe was, in this moment, utterly perfect and-
-/Commander/-
-she jumped when EDI's voice came across the general comm.
"Jesus EDI, what is it?"
The AI actually sounded...was that sheepish? Yes…definitely sheepish as she answered, -/I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Sere Krios/-
"No, I bet you couldn't" Ami groused. Of course she couldn't miss the bloody conversation. She pretty much was the channel through which it was being had!
-/And I wanted to express my sincere congratulations./-
Wrong-footed slightly, it took her a moment or two to respond. "I…thanks EDI, but-" She frowned slightly, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Didn't you already know about Thane being on the mend? I told Doctor Chakwas four days back now, and if you can monitor conversations in here, I know damn well you can in medbay."
-/I did/- she confirmed, -/but didn't think it was appropriate to approach you about it sooner. I know you value your privacy, Commander, and I wanted to respect that. For as long as possible./-
Something about that pause and her tone just didn't quite sit right with Shepard's sense of comfort.
"EDI..." she drew, a warning note in her voice.
-/While I've gathered that Mr Krios wouldn't appreciate having to attend a get-together thrown in his honour/- the AI cut in, -/particularly on his formative days after re-joining the crew, he has friends here who want to celebrate his impending return. Myself included. I would therefore respectfully suggest that, in the interest of squad cohesion, you join the small gathering I've arranged in two evening's time in the port observation room./-
After a moment of flabbergasted silence, Ami gave a wry laugh. "The gathering, huh? How long has this been on the cards?"
An air of smugness took EDI's voice then. -/Doctor Chakwas and I agreed on it when you left her office after your meeting about Mr Krios re-joining the Normandy./-
Though the Commander declined to comment further, and shook her head with fondness-tinged-annoyance at the frankly obscene amount of subterfuge taking place aboard her ship, somehow…while she knew she could decline EDI's offer, and studiously contemplated doing so as she turned back to her report...she knew she wouldn't.
A/N two, the sequel: A final little note. The writers Thane pondered upon were, in order, John Dryden and Jean-Jacques Rousseau.
And now!
Coming in the next instalment!
We return to the Citadel.
A little light shopping is done.
The second female Drell of the series makes an appearance. Did you notice the first? Cookies if you did! :-D
And last but by no means least...Kolyat.