Tann woke from a dreamless sleep.

His own body sprawled on the couch was the first thing he noticed when he opened his eyes, each limb and horn reflected in the window beyond the vid screen. Most of his torso was obscured by Sara. The curves of her upper body were competing for space in the hollowed-out dip of his chest while the rest of her lay loose and dreaming on his lap.

He blinked, feeling the pleasant weight of her and listening to the sound of her breathing. Everything about Sara was distracting, just as Herik had implied.

And he couldn't go on like this, he thought to himself.

But he knew he probably would. It had been days since he slept in his own bed. Each evening he dozed off on the couch next to her while they watched cheesy vids together. And before he took a bath or ate breakfast, before he exercised until his lungs burned up or built model ships, Tann would pick Sara up and carry her to her bedroom.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he did just that, humming affectionately into his shoulder. And he waited for a glimmer of squeamishness, or anything else he might feel if he was engaging in such a fixation during his previous life on Sur'Kesh. But all he felt was a luxurious, possessive, completely unwarranted sense of... Something. Ownership, maybe. It was the closest thing he recognized.

She wasn't a pet, he reminded himself sternly. More importantly, he wasn't allowed to keep her.

And as he was carrying her past the embroidered fabric hiding her window, she woke up just enough to ask, "What did you do in the Milky Way? Doctor Carlyle said you were an accountant."

"I was," he replied, doubting she would remember this tomorrow. "I worked in adaptive matrix financing."

As a senior consultant, he added inwardly. Math had always been his specialty.

"You don't look like an accountant," she mumbled.

He settled her into the bed, pleased that someone had noticed. "What does an accountant look like to a human?" he asked. When she didn't answer he sat down next to her and pushed a few strands of hair out of her eyes. "The effects of time dilation and space travel on traditional financial models are very complex. Whether or not I have the proper image, I'm an expert at mitigating all of them."

"Oh," she said softly, pressing her face into her pillow. "You sound like an accountant. Did you like it?"

Tann hesitated, his hands very still above her. She always wanted to know if he liked things, as if it was a matter of great importance. He said quietly, "I was excellent at it." Then he pulled several blankets up over her shoulders, remembered this was a mutual social exchange, and asked, "Did you... like... working for your human military?"

She said sleepily, "The prothean ruins were the best part. You have to join the Alliance just to study them."

Tann nodded. He already knew she kept dozens of archeological books loaded on her datapads. But both Sara and Scott had dishonorable discharges in their files due to their father's work with artificial intelligence so any career aspirations she might have had were a dead end before she left the Milky Way. And even Tann knew that must be an unpleasant subject. So he simply said, "Goodnight."

She murmured, "Goodnight," from somewhere beneath the mountain of blankets.

Tann passed by her mother and her brother smiling on the Citadel in their photo frames. He doubted Sara would dream of Andromeda as she slept, but someday she would leave her curtains open and accept the new stars outside. Beyond providing for her material needs, he didn't know how he could help her. Forcing her forward would be the wrong strategy. He could only provide her with the space to move when she was ready, he supposed.

He needed to be a careful host.

And so, as the weeks passed and the Tempest was endlessly delayed, Tann began coaxing the galaxy into wider focus around Sara with a word here and a memo there. On the Hyperion she began helping Doctor Carlyle in the medical bay with sit-down tasks like record keeping, and she ran inventory with Captain Dunn in the afternoons. She ate lunch with Dunn and also Brecka, who followed her around polished brighter than a comet.

But when Tann returned home in the evenings, she was always there waiting for him.

And the galaxy kept expanding, gaining momentum around them both, right until he found himself overseeing her combat tests in the firing range. Sajax and Nels manned the heatsinks while Kandros directed each test. Tann waited with Kesh at the front entrance. Whenever he heard a particularly loud gunshot he blanched.

Keri T'Vessa, the station's resident journalist, was hovering around him like a paparazzi with another journalist named Davis. A drone floated just over her shoulder while she said, enthusiastically despite the noise, "It will go perfectly with our interviews of Scott. We can put it on all the vid projectors."

Tann didn't respond, preferring to marvel at Sara's test results as they appeared in real-time on a wall vid-screen. The numbers might as well have been Scott's results, close as they were to his.

Bang bang bang

He suppressed the flinch that rippled instinctively over him.

The firing range on the Nexus was makeshift at best, simply a conference room that had been repurposed by Kandros to train security recruits. There was a hole in the bulkheads that had been sealed with a mass effect envelope and it was a curious thing, as if the Scourge had intentionally left a vista devoid of starlight in its wake when it tore into the spot.

And Keri had been needling Tann about an interview with Sara for days now. She tossed Davis a reassuring wink and tried a fresh angle with a tilt of her hips. "I think it's important for people to hear Sara's perspectives about the Initiative," she said. "Her opinion is vital, especially now that her brother is risking his life out there for us."

"Is my translator malfunctioning?" Tann asked, honestly wondering as he finally glanced down at her. "You're not using her for one of your interviews. I regret asking you to document events on the station as it is."

"You're just saying that because you only want content that makes the Nexus leadership look good," Davis pointed out.

"Of course I do," Tann replied, without the shame they obviously expected from him. "Why wouldn't I?"

Davis groaned and closed his eyes. "Oh my god," he muttered.

T'Vessa wrinkled her nose, momentarily losing her cheerful demeanor. Tann turned back to the wall, too pleased with Sara's results to take much offense. Each number was a pixel in a brand new picture, one where he could easily see her ravaging kett soldiers and threatening their leader, the Archon, with perfect clarity. She would have been strangely brutal and graceful with her combat armor gleaming in the sunlight of Eos. She would have been an asset on the Tempest.

Much like the Nexus, her exterior was shining despite the fragile places still hiding inside of her. And that was a win.

Numbers don't ever lie, Tann thought with satisfaction.

But the expression on his face was too much for Davis. "Don't smirk like that," the human man said. "You're just afraid of what she'll say about you. You know she's going to make you look bad if she's honest with us."

Kesh, previously occupied with the daily reports she had missed during her trip to Elaaden, looked over at Tann curiously.

Tann looked at Davis. "Is that why you think I won't let you interview her?"

"Prove me wrong and let us do it." Davis ignored the uneasy way Keri shook her head at him. "We're going to do it anyway."

Tann sighed a little, wondering if he should give in. "My patience for your broadcasts, which you have mistaken for acceptance, is not infinite," he told the pair. "You have reported the events occurring on the Nexus in any way you please and so far I have not stopped you. Freedom of the press is not a uniquely human concept, after all." He paused, thinking it over with crossed arms. "Do you plan to ask her about her father or what happened on Habitat Seven?"

Keri hitched a breath and said, "We would never-"

Right as Davis blurted out, "Sure, why not? We've already written down a bunch of questions about her dad and the whole SAM project."

Tann felt the urge to put his palms on his forehead. He suddenly understood why Addison was always doing it.

And Keri went pale, caught in the lie.

Tann plucked the camera drone out of the air and handed it to her. She took it into her arms while it powered down. "No interviews yet," he told her quietly. He turned back to the numbers. And he was too irritated to flinch at the next gunshot that rang out.

Davis stood there defiantly until Keri grabbed him by the arm. He said as she dragged him away, "He can't just shut us down like that. He's not even the real Director."

Tann shook his horns a little. They would drop the issue once the Tempest finally returned. Scott had an overwhelming effect on Keri and she was the driving force behind the news broadcasts. As he pondered the asari's preoccupation with the Pathfinder, he realized that Kesh was still staring at him.

She said, "In a bad mood, Number Eight?"

He blinked. "Not at all. Why?"

"An interview with Sara would have helped you," she said. "I ran into her when I got back the other day and she had nothing but good things to say. She told me you play Skyllian Five with her and build model ships."

The surveyor-class Kalanhai was indeed in pieces on his hobby table. "Hardly worthy of a special report."

"At least it's something positive." Kesh's mouth spread into an uneasy line. "Like you said, they're reporting whatever they want."

Tann had to admit Kesh was right. And if it had been anyone other than Sara, he would have subtly manipulated her to do the interview. Coaching people in the right direction was an effective way to get ahead, after all. He would never privately try to deny it. It was how you gained advantages in business and on Sur'Kesh. You lightly pressed and pushed and cajoled to help your own interests. Rode a coat-tail or two, as humans liked to say.

Truthfully, it wasn't even his place to decide the matter. Sara could make her own decisions.

But he didn't want the galaxy to expand around her that much just yet. "Perhaps in the future, when the time is right," he said. "She's had a hard time between the injuries and circle losses."

"Everyone here has had a hard time," Kesh replied, unimpressed. "I don't see you protecting anyone else like a hothouse flower in hydroponics."

"I don't let anyone else build model ships with me, either," Tann agreed distantly, and absently, not really thinking about it.

Besides, he never helped his own interests lately. He was too distracted to even check his popularity rating, or worry about whether people referred to him by his title. The Nexus was functioning and the air was clean. No one was rioting. People were alive and eating enough food to complain about the taste.

And his patience for this type of conversation had waned. Everyone on the Nexus was convinced that he had ulterior motives - which wasn't unreasonable, he had to admit - but as far as the aliens were concerned Tann had basically hauled a princess off to his lair. He had spirited her away into a starry underworld and now taunted them.

He waited for Kesh to add her own misgivings to the general chorus. Thanks to her authority over the climate settings, his office would probably resemble an arctic expedition from now on. But Kesh just looked stunned, as if any argument had died right on the tip of her tongue. She went back to the datapad, tapped it, and dropped the matter completely.

"These reports from engineering are great," she remarked. "They're getting more work done now that they aren't pushing paperwork."

Tann stared at her, slightly taken aback by the change of subject. He said cautiously, "I'm proud of the crew's ability to self-govern."

"Uh-huh."

"I had complete faith in them," he went on, coughing faintly. "I was just waiting for the proper moment to implement the new system. You understand."

She almost sounded amused. "Right, Number Eight."

Tann sighed. There was no point in trying to convince her and he wasn't enough of a ghoul to wish for a disaster just so he could be right about the reports. And while the outcome of that particular gambit stung, there was nothing left to do except spin the results into something he could use in the future.

But he still said peevishly, tucking his fingers into his sleeves, "What were you even doing spending that much time on Elaaden? You're needed here."

Kesh's eyes continued to scan the reports. "I was getting married to Vorn. We had a big ceremony."

It was Tann's turn to be stunned. "Krogan aren't monogamous," he reminded her. It was one of the few similarities between the two races. Salarians had their yearly contracts and krogan... did whatever krogan did, he supposed.

"I decided to try it." Kesh shrugged. "We're in a new galaxy."

That was reasonable enough. Tann's gaze drifted to where Sara was demonstrating her perfect skill with a submachine gun. He asked, "How is it?"

"Just different," Kesh answered with another shrug. She finally looked up from the reports, surprised that he was waiting for her to continue. "Tann," she rumbled steadily, "at the end of a long day dealing with this place, just being able to talk to Vorn makes everything about my life feel easier."

It was unexpectedly relatable. Tann said, "I'm pleased you've found a solution to help you destress."

Kesh rumbled again in response, like a distant quake, and then an alarm blared around them signaling that the firing range was powering down. Kandros headed toward Tann while Nels and Sajax took Sara to the equipment racks. Nels was regaling her with some hardboiled story about his years working for C-Sec.

"You know what my recommendation will be," Kandros said as he flicked a mandible toward the final results on the wall.

Tann nodded, and made a show of looking over the numbers even though he had already seen them. Kandros had planned to add Sara to the security team since she woke up. With both the experience and the skill, it was a natural placement for her. Addison agreed, as long as it didn't take Sara off-station where her implant could fall into the wrong hands. But Tann, with prothean ruins nagging at the back of his mind, hadn't officially backed the placement yet.

When they were done cleaning up, Tann led Sara through the halls and out to the open habitation decks. She was very quiet as they walked, looking up at the sky. He tapped his chin, thinking about what to do with her. When they reached a railing on the decks he said, liking the way the sunlight reflected in her gray eyes, "It's not the same as the Citadel's presidium, is it?"

"The light isn't warm," she agreed. She grabbed onto the railing and looked up thoughtfully. "I never realized how much that mattered."

"Even without heat, it's a comfort for the colonists to look up and see a normal sky." Tann thought of thick curtains, the Scourge brambles behind them. "And for some," he added, "it's simply too much to be reminded of what's out there each day."

Sara didn't respond. The sky was heavy and blue above her with its digitally embroidered clouds.

And Tann knew he couldn't push her too much. "Of course, you're not a colonist," he said softly, mostly to cover her silence. "We both know you aren't. I wouldn't expect you to relate to the comforts they request."

Sara looked over at him as the crowd drifted around them. "What am I?"

"A perfect addition to our security team," he said, echoing Kandros' words. The light in her eyes faded as he presented the first placement offer to her on a data-pad. "However," he added, revealing a second pad beneath it in a practiced motion, "that was your previous life. Here on the Nexus you have the opportunity to choose again."

His hand brushed against hers when he gave it to her. She said, "There's something else?"

He tipped his horns. "With Suvi now stationed on the Tempest, we need someone to work in the research lab. You'd be acting as a liaison with the ship and assisting with our studies of the Remnant technology scattered around the star cluster."

Sara read the description. Her eyes lit up again. "Wait, you want me to study the ruins here?"

"Indeed. They aren't prothean," Tann said, "but I thought they might interest you."

And he barely suppressed a smile at her reaction. Her breath caught, very faintly, at what he was offering her. The desire filled her eyes, pleasing in its intensity as she clutched the pad like it was made of valuable eezo. But then her excitement drained away completely and without warning. "I can't take this," she said suddenly, handing it back to him.

Tann's eyelids wavered in surprise. "Why? I thought you'd like that one."

"I do, but Kandros said they need people in security." She frowned a little, glancing at the crowds of aliens all around them. "Tann," she said, "did other people get to choose what they do every day?"

"Not always," he conceded. Not often, truthfully.

"Then you can't do favors like this for me when it comes to work stuff. No one will respect me if you do." She pinched her brows together into a determined expression, which was equal parts frustrating and charming. "We already live together."

"I can evict you into the hallway if that helps," he said, handing her the offer again. "We have cots."

Sara laughed a little despite herself, as if he wasn't serious, but he could see her wage an internal battle as she reviewed the job description longingly again. And Tann chased the desire in her eyes, wanting it for himself. He wanted to be the person who gave this to her; a dream resurrected from the Milky Way. He wasn't a master of social charms, but he understood professional ambition. He recognized when it had been thwarted.

"Sara," he continued, not willing to give in just yet, "You've already read those prothean books you brought with you, correct?"

Her defenses were still up, but she nodded.

"And you've been to enough dig sites, even as security, to be familiar with protocols and practices concerning ruins?"

"They had me help the scientists a lot," she admitted. "It's not like there was ever anything to shoot at."

"Then, without exaggerating, you're one of the most qualified candidates I have." He bent low, meeting her eyes. "In a way," he added, tapping the tip of her human nose lightly, "you're doing me a favor."

She clutched the offer tighter while color tinged her cheeks, and he knew he had her. "Really?" she asked. "I'd actually be helping?"

"Just so," he said, handing her a stylus so she could sign the lawful bits on the pad. He wrote his own name next to hers when she was done. "But promise me you'll be more careful than the Tempest's Remnant specialist," he said. He remembered some of the updates coming from the ship. "And please don't lick anything."

"Okay," she said, a little confused by that despite her excitement. "I'll do my best not to."

And Tann couldn't help but smile down at her, utterly satisfied by her happiness.

And so the scientists in the lab were notified and she was outfitted with a schedule and a uniform. She would always be the Pathfinder's understudy due to her modified pathfinder implant- even Tann couldn't prevent that - but, for now, she would spend her days looking like any other member of the Nexus crew.

And Tann stood at the tall window in Pathfinder Hall, thinking about it while the stars twinkled at him on her first day in the lab. Whether by chance or fate, he had been entrusted with helping someone and he wasn't failing. Sara was healthy and integrating with the crew. The cultural center had wrapped up construction and resources could now be spared for the human habitation quadrant.

Publicly, as the Director, Tann had more than fulfilled his responsibilities. And once she moved into the human quadrant he would be able to focus again. His problem would be solved.

But, privately, in the deep silence of the hall, his stomach began to sink unpleasantly.

His aide chirped out a greeting at the entrance, interrupting his thoughts. When Tann turned away from the window Sara was heading toward him wearing a crisp science uniform and holding a cardboard box.

She said, gesturing to her uniform, "How do I look?"

He wished he had known she was coming by so he could have pretended to look busy. "You look just like your photo in the archives," he said.

She laughed a little. "No, I mean, do I look good or bad?" She pulled at her collar. "You know, sciencey."

He crossed his arms, pretending to consider it for a beat or two. "Very sciencey," he then assured her, because she would enjoy hearing it and because it was true.

She smiled up at him, relieved. "Here, I brought you lunch," she said, presenting the box to him. "I wanted to thank you for helping me so much. I don't know when you eat, though." Her voice faded as she thought about it. "Maybe you already did?"

"You brought me a meal?" he asked, leaning over to make sure he was hearing her correctly.

And he used the movement to check her hair, but it wasn't dyed or styled as far as he could see. The strands remained tousled around her shoulders as always, but she had painted her eyelashes and glossed her mouth. He had seen other humans do that before.

She stood very still as he inspected her. "Um, yep," she replied. "I promise I didn't lick it?"

He smiled faintly at that, straightened again. And his interest perked at the possibility of an early lunch. The box smelled delicious, with promising clouds of steam escaping from the edges.

There was no harm in it, he thought. "Did you bring lunch for yourself?"

Sara shook her head. So he gestured to the waiting area of the hall and then sent his aide away. He watched as the door closed behind her, locking it with his omni-tool code lighting up at his wrist so she wouldn't barge right back in like she usually did.

Sara was waiting for him at the hall's couches when he came back. Unlike Garson's office, the furniture here was designed with multiple races in mind. Sara placed the box on the coffee table, nudging it to make sure it was safe from the edge and set the utensils aside for him as he sat down next to her.

"I wasn't sure what you liked," she said as she opened the box. "I asked the mess and they gave me this. I hope it's okay."

"No one's ever brought me lunch before," he said, peering inside. "Thank you."

Steam rose around him in a warm cloud. Inside there was rough grain native to Sur'Kesh, and then protein on top of it and vegetables on the side. Between Eos and Hydroponics, the Nexus' menu had grown from ration bars and bacteria-vat water to real, recognizable food.

And food always crossed cultural differences, it seemed. "We should celebrate your placement," Tann said as he began to eat, glancing at her. "I'll take you to a part of the Nexus that other people don't see, bring you dinner and some elasa. There's something there I've been meaning to show you."

Sara asked, "Just the two of us?"

His voice was perfectly even as he spoke between bites. "Is there someone else you'd like to bring?"

The hum of the station seemed loud while the steam floated between them. "No," she said after a moment. "It's just that it kind of sounds like a date."

"A date," Tann repeated, regarding her carefully. He tapped his utensil on the edge of the box, thought about it. "You've said you go on dates but never meet anyone you like. You said it makes you feel picky."

Her eyes lit up in delight. "I forgot that salarians remember everything."

"Absolutely everything," he assured her.

And she smiled, but it faded as he continued to eat. Her gaze wandered out to the hall and then to his office up above, her expression growing uneasy with the reality of the pathfinder exhibits and Garson's desk. "I need to tell you something," she said after a while, taking it all in with a small frown. "It's silly and pointless but I still need to tell you."

Tann blinked, unsettled by how serious she sounded. "You can tell me anything. As the Director, I'm completely at your service."

"I know," she said unhappily. Her hands were in her lap and she clutched the fabric of her uniform until it wrinkled.

He didn't take offense to her tone. There wasn't any hostility there. Instead, her eyes were a little wet. She blinked a few times, surprised, and wiped at them with her new sleeve. It was the first time that she had shown such strong emotion since she woke up from her coma.

Tann frowned, setting down his utensils, and wiped a tear off her cheek with his thumb. "What do you need to tell me?" he asked, growing concerned. "Did something happen in the lab today?"

She took a breath but didn't say anything else. Now that a strong emotion had broken through, Sara seemed completely shocked by it. She took another breath like it was difficult. "Oh, crap," she finally whispered. "I forgot how embarrassing this kind of stuff is."

His brow dropped. "What kind of stuff?"

"This kind of stuff," she said again, as if he knew exactly what that meant.

Tann rubbed at the last wet spot on her cheek while she composed herself, pushed her hair out of her eyes and swept it behind her shoulders. He didn't know what to do but doubted that petting her like she was some sort of cat was helpful. But maybe this was decks five through seven flooding, he thought to himself. Maybe this was the reactor finally melting down under the stress. He kept caressing her, first her hair and then moving to her neck and shoulders. Her heart was racing.

"I know you're just being nice to me because it's your job," she said as she calmed herself. "I know you don't feel anything about me and I'm just wrecking things by even saying this to you since we're going to be living together for a little bit longer, but I kind of have to so-"

Tann blinked. This wasn't about the lab.

"- the truth is I really want to go on a date with you," she finished, taking a breath. "Just you."

Tann stared down at her, stunned, with a palm still splayed on her collarbone and a thumb mid-rub on her chin. Just you echoed pleasantly all around him. He needed to say something about that.

"Oh," was all he managed to get out.

Sara smiled up at him, resigned, as if that had been exactly the response she expected. And the uncharted stars outside the window twinkled, overwhelmingly bright suddenly. "I'm really sorry," she said. "I know you don't feel anything about me."

He asked curiously, "Why do you keep saying that?"

She said softly, with the utmost conviction, "Because you don't."

It was the conviction that bothered him. And, here in the unlikely space of Andromeda, Tann couldn't say why he did what he did next. He brushed his thumb over her mouth, perhaps because that was where the just you had come from. She closed her eyes, stayed very still, and let him. He moved his fingers over the fluff of her eyebrows next, then traced the shell of her ear just because he wanted to. Because he could.

And because she also wanted him to, he realized. The thought was as unfamiliar as the stars outside.

Even he knew it wasn't a harmless impulse that began to take hold of him. But before he could do anything else the locked door to the hall burst open with a slam. Kesh and Del and his aide came rushing in. Addison was with them, carried mostly by the other three's momentum and heft. And they all stopped, piling up like a traffic jam at the top of the short set of stairs near the couches.

Addison swore loudly when she bumped into Kesh's back. "What is everyone stopping for?"

Sara flinched at the interruption. Tann felt it against his skin, saw her blanch white and then red beneath his fingers. Only one person in the galaxy had the override codes to brute force his door open like that and he looked over at her, very sharply.

Kesh stared back at him. Her mouth had opened but she didn't say anything.

"I'm very curious why you felt the need to break down my door," he bit out, trying not to hiss every word through his teeth. His hands were all over Sara and it was too late to pretend they weren't, so he let them fall and stepped in front of her when he stood up.

His aide said, "I didn't realize-"

Kesh mercifully, and deliberately, cut her off. "The Tempest's back," she interrupted. "They're ten minutes out according to Kallo and they have the angara with them. We're putting them in docking bay three." She jabbed her thumb at the door. "Everybody out."

Sara's eyes widened as she peeked out from behind Tann. "Scott's back?"

"The angaran diplomatic attache," Tann said, breathing out a sigh of relief. "They're finally here."

Kesh nodded once over her shoulder as she herded everyone else out the door. The Tempest had been delayed for weeks, but now the entire Nexus would stop to make way for its crew and the Pathfinder. Operations was already in an uproar. Tann didn't even have time to think about what had just happened as they were all swept up in the commotion; everything would have to wait until the delegations finished.

Everything.