Dreya T'Vasi's parents whisk her away on several political luncheons, dinners, press conferences, and the like. She misses three days of class, and Ana has to train with Tandros. If she didn't miss Dreya before, she definitely misses her now. Tandros proves relentless. Ana's vanguard techniques likely improve tenfold, but she'd rather learn how to be normal rather than superhuman.
Stretching her sore muscles and rubbing her aching temples on her way out yet another one-on-one, Ana hears a ping! on her omni tool. Glancing down, the Clone sees a message from Dreya:
Hey there!
I miss your face. Actually, I miss a whole lot more than that. Come see me? I'll pay your fare.
-Dreya.
The Clone can perfectly imagine Dreya saying it out loud, but she's thankful for the written message. No need to alert the rest of her classmates as they depart. She heads to the transit terminal, and punches in the coordinates for the Serrice House of the Matriarchs. After the skycar arrives, she takes a deep breath and sits inside, shutting the door behind her. Closing her eyes, she braces herself as it lifts off.
Without Dreya, the journey takes longer. The Clone entertains herself by watching the city of Serrice race by below her. She will never tire of this city, but she fears she'll have to leave it sooner than later—the Reapers won't wait forever.
Dreya buzzes her in at the front door. Funny, the Clone never noticed the elaborate security detail before. Two sets of commandos stand outside, and inside the entrance. They stand so still, the Clone would have mistaken them for statues, had not one of their noses started to itch.
"About time you got here." Dreya leans against the railing of the stairs, smirking at the Clone from across the parlor.
"Sorry, Tandros held me over late." Ana yawns. "She wanted me to nova at least twenty more times."
"Poor thing. I bet you're starving." She meets Ana half way and pulls her into a hug. Ana melts into Dreya's embrace. "What is it you humans are always going on about? Pizza?"
Ana presses a soft kiss against her chin. "Never had it."
Dreya blinks at her. "Who the hell raised you? Rachni?"
No, actually. Just your average psychotic ex-Cerberus operative. Why do you ask? The Clone shakes it off with a laugh. "My…roommate's kind of a health nut."
"Clearly. C'mon. I wanna show you something." Dreya takes her hand, pulling her upstairs.
"Oo. Finally gonna tell me your big dark secret?" Ana squeezes her hand playfully.
"You know it." Dreya pulls her into her personal quarters, which doesn't amount to more than a desk, a bed, and a small wardrobe. Ana realizes with a start, that Dreya's room doesn't differ that much from her own. "Don't be shy. Have a seat." The Asari pats a spot down on the bed, before taking a seat at her desk.
Ana runs her hand down the satin comforter. This is the bed Dreya sleeps in—it thrills the Clone to be sitting on it.
Dreya rummages in one of the drawers. "Ah, here!" She hands Ana a leather journal and a narrow tin. Inside Ana finds a set of charcoal pencils. "I did promise you I'd draw you. Thought maybe you'd need something to keep your hands busy."
"I know plenty of ways to keep my hands busy." Ana beckons with her finger suggestively. Both of them laugh.
"Later. I want to get a good look at you first." Dreya chews her lip, a shy gesture Ana rarely sees on her. "Sometimes I feel like I hardly know you."
Ana freezes, nearly dropping the pencil she had just pulled out. "…What do you mean?" She doesn't want to, Godesss, she doesn't want to, but the Clone can't help but think of the information Hope left on her datapad.
An Ardat Yakshi will continually lure her prey into the mind meld until she is successful.
Dreya chews over her words before answering. "You never talk about your parents, and you hardly mention whoever you're living with. You're…you're the only alien I've…been with who doesn't want to meld with me." Before Dreya looks down at the floor, the Clone swears she sees the Asari's eyes water.
The Ardat Yakshi will use any form of manipulation at her disposal—emotional, physical, financial.
"Dreya, please." Ana crosses the room, pulling her into a hug. "I just don't want anyone inside my head." It's the truth. Or at least it was, before.
"Why not?" Dreya holds her face, searching her eyes. "I'm not going to rummage around your dirty laundry. I…I just want to make you feel good, inside and out."
She will promise ecstasy, pleasure beyond imagining.
It can't be true. It can't be. The Clone aches. In no universe would she ever want to hurt Dreya, and she knows that's exactly what she's doing by refusing. Even if Hope lied, the Clone can't sabotage her mission. Part of her wonders if the mission is even worth it. Then she imagines what would happen if the Reapers showed up on Hayeiana, and what would happen to Dreya. She can't let that happen, no matter what.
A dangerous thought sparks in the Clone's mind. The implants warn her of all the ways it could go wrong, but her heart refuses to listen. "Hey. I... I really like you, okay?" Ana nuzzles the Asari's nose brushing her lips against her cheek. "I'm not saying I won't ever want to meld with you...I just...I can't right now." She bites her lip. "It will happen. Someday." Hopefully sooner than later.
Dreya smiles as bright as the sun. "Promise?"
Her heart feels like she's standing on the edge of a cliff. With no hesitation, the Clone jumps off. "Promise."