Reminiscence

"I don't think I managed it," it had been three days since their melding, and neither had been able to talk about it, "if anything, the nausea feels worse — bathroom break!"

Samara had learned plenty about a female human's pregnancy; not that Hannah was willing to call it that, and felt worried about moving around too often. After the first incident, they had managed to meld themselves and become one complete being so all their memories had been shared entirely. That, of course, meant that they would need time to sort through them, but the asari was confident the younger woman had managed to learn the way they reproduced; she just didn't know, like the girl, if it had been applied properly.

Gathering from the memories retrieved from the biology course, she knew that the likelihood of the child actually changing as the melding was meant to do wouldn't be useful. A week had already passed since the woman confessed her abduction and had arrived. She had probably spent a day on the last vessel leaving whatever forsaken land (read Shanxi; why humans wanted that planet was beyond her) she had been on, hijacking it completely and gaining access to the asari space. From that point forward, it wouldn't take her long to locate the justicar's likely zone, since the search was easy, if the one searching knew what to look for.

Hannah certainly did, and she didn't take care of herself through the journey, only eager to see her, Samara, again. The only thing that led the young woman to realize that she was with child were the morning sickness, headaches, bathroom trips, and overall, the way her own breasts were being over-sensitive. She didn't think anything about the weight loss, or the fact that the meals weren't appealing, even after captivity, or about her extreme tiredness. If it wasn't because of the rigorous training they went through, the alien was certain that the frail creature in her care would have broken or snapped or both. Not a pleasant thought, but a realistic one.

As the center of her thoughts, owner of the accounts that were shared returned to the room after releasing her body of its apparent hourly need; her body had regained some of its weight, but more so the water it needed for replenishing, her thoughts shifted to the fact that the human before her was unique to her species. She was a low-level biotic without ability or power, and yet, one whom, during her first try, performed exceptionally during her first melding attempt. The creature was a natural, which meant that, had she received the training and implants, she would have become, without exception, an incredible biotic user.

And yet the child (or perhaps the lover?) wasn't interested in any kind of "pillow talk" as she simply cuddled over. Samara couldn't help but embrace the young woman; she still felt like, as Hannah explained during one of their lengthy conversations about their age, a cradle snatcher. There simply was something about the creature next to her . . . perhaps the fact that the one seducing wasn't the asari . . . .

She began sorting through their shared memories, mostly about the captivity, and began counting. The escape and the rape happened at the same date, arriving there was another, and then added another from the regaining strength. All in all, if the melding hadn't taken place, they would be in trouble; two weeks into it, changes are plausible at a cellular and molecular level, from the forth week onward and the fetus started developing. And there were no guarantees that the melding had actually made a change, but it was enough having the human worry.

As it was, the justicar already felt troubled. The soldier hadn't gained weight, and her morning sickness was getting worse, as were the headaches and tiredness. It escalated to the point in which naps were frequent, as were the cravings, and yet the weight was never fully regained. The warrior had picked the woman from having fallen asleep reading something, and found her easier to carry daily; she would bet hourly. She was worried, but most of all, Samara dreaded the mood swings. Things were certainly getting more complicated, as they tended to become whenever a human was involved.

"Samara, do you remember the salarian?" It was hard not to, and if she didn't tread carefully, things would become far too complex to handle. "I was jealous of him."

"Is that how you came to the conclusion that —" Ah, so the human had been jealous back then . . . . Really, how long ago had those feelings been forming? Before she could even ask, the petite female asked something else.

"You never did fully explain what love was," sometimes it was hard to follow a human's logic as it was to follow a salarian's; she doubted the comment would help her out. "By the way, you never wrote back."

"I knew you were fine," soft peck, "I read more than your messages."

"Really?" Was there doubt in the voice? It was too dark to tell if the human was jesting or not. "Like what?"

Better to play it safe. "Well, I know you won every tournament you could get into; turns out you can wield quite a blade." The human chuckled, and buried her forehead on the crevice between neck and shoulder. "You owe me for the bite."

"Well, I won't pay back," the playful reply made the cerulean catch those caramel wrists in one hand. "Is this domestic abuse?"

"Don't act as if you don't like it . . . ." She felt the thrill her words sent down the blonde's spine, and she smirked as she bit into the shoulder; there was a hiss, and she chuckled. "You're at my mercy . . . ."

"You never fully realized," the other panted, making the asari's breath hitch, "I had been waiting a long time for you to see I've always been at your mercy . . ."

"It seems you will always confuse me," Samara really didn't know what to make of the human beneath her. "I just hope you never misunderstood my final words."

"So you never meant that if I had been older," there was a sly quality to the words, "we would have been together?"

"You seem believe that this is due to the fact that you're older . . ." quite an intriguing notion. "Sorry to burst your bubble. I meant that, had you truly been my kid, I would never let you go, but in a sense, you were my child, I just never truly expected for it to grow into . . . this . . . ."

"Well, I am glad it did," there it was, a sniff of indignation, but it was killed by a yawn; she chuckled. "Don't laugh, I'm serious!"

"So am I when I say," she leaned close, almost as if to give a peck, "that so do I . . ."

She sealed it with a kiss, and with a content sigh, she allowed her prey to escape. The freed arms wrapped themselves around the blue waist, the head nestling in its most comfortable spot. It was Hannah's turn to sigh; it was a happy sound. They fell asleep in comfort, or such was the idea until the human rose again. She headed straight for the bathroom. Samara sighed, this time in mild rejection. Well, rest would always come later.