Death Notification

Charles sat on the couch, a bowl of dry cereal wedged between his knees, watching some comedy about an asari who bonded with a volus. He didn't really see what was supposed to be so funny about the whole thing, but it gave him something to stare at while he ate breakfast … other than the back of Ares' head. Ares sat at the breakfast bar, cleaning his weapons, and Eezo lay draped over Charles' feet.

His omni-tool pinged with an incoming call, so he turned down the vidscreen and sat his cereal on the table. Opening his omni-tool, he didn't recognize the number, but he accepted the call anyway with a furrowed brow. A man in a business suit appeared on the screen, a grim look to his face.

"Sorry," Charles said, ready to cut the call. "I think you called the wrong person."

The man held a hand up, halting Charles, and asked, "Are you Charles Fairclough?"

"Yeah?" Charles raised his brows, warning bells going off in the back of his head.

"Mr. Fairclough, my name is Daniel Hendricks." He shifted forward, folding his hands together in front of him on the desk. "I'm with Blathers and Son's, we're a law firm on Shanxi."

Charles swallowed, heart pounding hard against his chest. He wasn't really sure how to respond, so he didn't say anything, just waited and worked on keeping himself together. He watched Ares out of the corner of his eye, wishing the turian would stop cleaning his damn weapons and turn around. Maybe give Charles some sort of indication about what the hell he should do about a lawyer from Shanxi calling.

Daniel hesitated, searching Charles' face as if he expected Charles to know exactly why he'd called—which of course made Charles' mind rush through fifty different scenarios, all of which ended with him behind bars. "I regret to say that I am calling to inform you of your father's passing."

Oh.

Charles blinked a few times, processing what the man just said. He almost wanted to laugh. There he was thinking the lawyer called to tell him the police wanted him for questioning or charges were already being brought against him, but the man only wanted to make a damn death notification. For about half a second, Charles wanted to tell the lawyer he already knew, he was the one who killed the sonofabitch. But as soon as the urge passed, the nerves set back in nice and hard, leaving him feeling as if he might end up puking before the conversation ended.

He swallowed and sucked in a deep breath. "When did this happen?" he asked because it was the first non-guilty sounding thing to come to mind.

"According to the coroner's report, he died the evening of the third of last month." Daniel made a fist, bringing it to his mouth to clear his throat. "I'm sorry, Mr. Fairclough, but it appears the nature of your father's death was quite brutal."

Charles brought a trembling hand to his face before curling his fingers and pressed the knuckles of his index finger against his mouth. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to still his racing heart, and fought the urge to look directly at Ares, who still sat with his back to him. If he actually believed in God, he might pray his nerves came across as shock. "What happened?" he asked because he thought it was the kind of thing he'd be expected to want to know.

"Your father was severely beaten and then …" Daniel paused to clear his throat, lowering his gaze from Charles' "… the autopsy report indicates he was forced to consume alcohol until he drowned in it." He met Charles' gaze again. "There's an ongoing investigation, but the police don't seem to have any leads."

A quiet pause filled the air as Charles soaked it in, closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath. The image of his father struggling against Ares as the turian forced the whiskey bottle between his teeth flashed in front of Charles. Before he could get too lost in the memory, the lawyer cleared his throat again, dragging Charles' attention back to him and the gravity of the situation at hand.

"As the executor of your father's estate, I would have preferred to contact you sooner, but I'm required to wait for police clearance on the matter and there was some question about your whereabouts." Daniel waved his hand before folding it back together with the other one. "The information we had on file for you was no longer accurate."

Charles rubbed his hand over his face before raking it through his hair and dropped his gaze to the half-eaten bowl of cereal sitting on the table. Unable to hold the images back, he watched his father die in front of his eyes all over again. The beast, the monster, whatever it was living in the recesses of his mind purred, sending warmth racing down his spine, making him furrow his brow and suck in a stuttered breath.

"Are you alright, Mr. Fairclough?" the man asked, dragging Charles' attention back to him.

Charles cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah. Have … have funeral arrangements already been made, then?"

Daniel shifted around in his chair and shook his head. "No, as his next of kin, we require your release before his remains can be dealt with. I assume you'll want to come to Shanxi—"

"No," Charles said, the word coming out faster and with a sharper edge than he'd intended, and Ares finally turned around on his stool to watch Charles, cigarette held between his mouth plates.

Daniel blinked a couple of times, his jaw slack until he finally said, "Excuse me?"

"Look … I haven't spoken to my father in ten years." Charles rubbed his hand over his forehead, pinching and kneading at a rising headache. "We weren't close, at all. I'm sorry to hear he's gone, but I have a life here. I can't just uproot things to go to Shanxi right now."

"I see." Daniel waved a hand, his entire demeanor seeming to shift from consoling ally to shark in a suit. "Well, if you'd prefer, I can send you the necessary documents for you to sign, and I can plan for his burial—or cremation, if you prefer—as well as my fees out of his estate. Your father didn't have much, but I believe there should be more than enough to handle the associated costs."

Charles nodded, running his hand over his face again. "Yes, thank you."

"There is still, of course, the matter of dealing with his personal effects. Mr. Fairclough, are you certain you don't wish to be here in person to go through your father's things?" Daniel's voice softened as he added, "I believe some of it may be your mother's as well."

Charles sucked in a deep breath, tears starting to sting at his eyes, and his voice cracked when he said, "I really can't."

"Of course, my apologies." Daniel cleared his throat and leaned forward on the desk. "What would you like done with your father's belongings?"

Charles stared at the man slack-jawed, blinking the tears out of his eyes. How was he expected to have the answers to those questions? For fuck's sake, as far as Daniel knew, it was the first time Charles learned about any of it. "I … I don't know." He drew his brows in, letting a grimace slide over his face. "Do I have to decide all of this right now?"

"No, of course not," Daniel said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. How about this? Why don't I send you the documents for the estate and you can take a few days to look over them? I'll contact you at the start of next week, and you can tell me what you've decided then."

Charles licked his lips and nodded, relieved to have a way out of the conversation and buy himself some time to think. "Yeah, okay."

"Have a good day, Mr. Fairclough." Daniel reached across the desk, finger poised to end the call.

Charles fought back the urge to snort and spout off something sarcastic. Instead, he nodded. "Thanks. You, too."

The call went dark, and he closed his omni-tool. Panic started to run unchecked through him, not having any reason to keep up the charade, making his whole world tilt sideways. His breath came fast and shallow, right on the verge of hyperventilating. He didn't … he couldn't … what the fuck was he supposed to do with …. He didn't know what he expected to happen when his dad's body was found, but he sure as hell didn't expect to be the one to have to deal with it. Fuck's sake, he left Shanxi to get away from the asshole. They'd killed the sonofabitch, why couldn't he just stay dead and the fuck out of Charles' life. Scooting to the edge of the couch, he was about to stand up, feeling like he needed to move, even though he didn't really have a destination in mind, but instead, he dropped his elbows to his knees, shoving his face in his palms.

Ares blew out a breath, but Charles didn't look up. He heard Ares put out his cigarette, and the stool creak beneath him as if he'd shifted his weight. After a moment, Ares let out a low, pensive sounding hum. Charles scrubbed his hands over his face and glanced at the turian, finding him watching Charles with his arms crossed. Charles turned his attention to the table, pushing the bowl of cereal further away, not even remotely interested in finishing his breakfast, and picked up his pack of cigarillos. His hands shook as he pulled one from the package and lit it, taking a heavy drag.

Giving the nicotine a minute to settle into his system, he finally asked, "It's not really suspicious that I don't want to go to Shanxi to deal with this, right?"

"No."

Charles nodded, smoking in silence for a minute. "I don't want to deal with his shit at all, but I kind of have to, don't I?" He looked up at Ares, wishing he'd come sit on the couch and just be near Charles.

"Yep." Ares reached into his pocket, pulling out another cigarette and lit it. "It's not going away until you do."

Charles nodded and started gnawing on his fingernails. "I didn't say anything wrong, did I?"

Ares took a drag from his cigarette, blowing out the smoke before saying, "No."

Charles stared at him for a second before letting his gaze drift away to stare at nothing in particular. After a minute, he muttered, "Fuck." Then, because it felt like a rising tide building up inside of him, he said it again louder, "Fuck." He pushed up to his feet, pacing aimlessly through the living room. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Each time he said it, it felt less and less like he had any control over anything.

He shoved a hand through his hair and turned, making his way to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, but he didn't bother locking it. What would be the point? If Ares wanted in there, the lock wouldn't keep him out. Charles sat down on the toilet, propping his elbows on his knees and pushing his forehead against his palms, fingers curling into fists around his hair. He looked down at the floor between his legs, his father whispering in his ear, telling him how worthless and pathetic he was. He thought he'd never have to hear his father's voice again, thought it died with the old man on Shanxi.

Pulling his razor out of his pocket, he turned it over and over in his fingers, the urge to open it and cut into his thighs making his eyes burn with unshed tears. He hadn't cut himself in weeks. Not since the day Ares caught him … the day he told Ares about what happened to Sarah and the way his father treated him because of it. The day before they went to Shanxi and killed his father right along with the motherfuckers who hurt him; hurt Sarah.

He opened the razor and stared at it, barely pressing his thumb against the blade, not hard enough to cut. Seeing it there, though, open and glinting as the light caught against its surface, it only made him want to sink it into someone else, instead.

When he got to work, Cammus seemed to be waiting for him. The turian hung out in the backroom with Okal, listening to the salarian's diatribe against the organizational layout of the entire store. As soon as Charles opened the door, though, Cammus' gaze latched onto him, body language practically screaming relief. Charles chuckled, lighting a cigarillo and making a beeline for the two of them.

Okal raised her head, sniffing the air before turning to look at Charles, mouth shifting into a grim, thin line. "Other people breathe the air back here, Charles."

"Yes, Okal, they do." Charles raised an eyebrow at the salarian and brought his cigarillo to his mouth. "How observant of you."

She gave him a disdainful sniff, turning her attention back to reorganizing the breakroom table. "I see your smart mouth still hasn't gotten you fired."

"There's always tomorrow." He took another drag from his cigarillo, blowing the smoke toward the ceiling and glancing toward Cammus.

The turian flicked a mandible, shifting his weight a little as he glanced between Okal and Charles. Okal pulled the rack holding packets of tea and water additives closer and started taking everything off.

Charles sighed, shaking his head. "Okal … what are you doing?"

"Organizing!" She threw a hand up into the air. "Cleaning! No one else around here seems interested in keeping things neat and orderly."

Charles took another drag. "Right. Well, have fun with that." He looked at the turian. "Cammus, where did Irene put you today?"

Cammus flicked a mandible, shifting a little closer to Charles. "I'm supposed to stick next to you from the moment you clock in until the moment you clock out." He let out a soft trill and tilted his head to the side, and Charles thought it seemed like an apology. "Irene's words."

Okal sniffed again, her lips tilting up in a smirk. "Still not sure why she didn't just fire you, but watching her punish you is amusing, too."

Charles scoffed, taking a long drag of his cigarillo, blowing the smoke out a little closer to Okal, making her grimace. "Cammus isn't a punishment. If Irene wanted to punish me, she'd have stuck me with you all day." He turned his attention back to Cammus. "Ready?"

Okal sniffed, but didn't look up at him from her 'work'. Cammus smiled and gave him one quick jerk of his head in acknowledgment. Charles smirked, turning and tilting his head toward the employee kiosk. He took his time, walking slowly with Cammus beside him while he finished his cigarillo, veering off toward the table to put it out in the ashtray before going over to the employee kiosk.

"I am, though, aren't I?" Cammus asked while Charles clocked in.

Charles glanced up at him, lifting an eyebrow. "Are what?"

"A punishment." Cammus turned his attention to the kiosk when Charles stepped aside.

Charles sucked in a deep breath, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. "You in particular, no. Irene's giving you the position she took from me and making me work up front. So, yeah, asking me to help train my replacement is probably her way of taking another jab at me." He shrugged when Cammus looked at him. "But, whatever."

Cammus hummed and reached up, scratching at his facial plates with a gloved talon. He flicked a mandible and stepped away from the kiosk. "It's not a bad strategy."

Charles let out a soft, snort of laughter and headed for the main lobby. "It'd be a better one if I actually gave a shit about this place."

"You don't take pride in your work?"

"In this place?" Charles arched an eyebrow, looking back over his shoulder. "Hell no. Give it a couple of cycles and you won't either."

Cammus hummed again, the sound filled with disbelief. He followed Charles with his hands tucked behind his back. "Ah, well, I don't intend to be here that long."

Charles stopped in the doorway to look over Cammus again, and the turian shifted under his scrutiny. "Lucky you."

Charles agreed to let Cammus buy him lunch, even though he felt pretty sure the turian only offered because he felt bad Irene tied the two of them together for the day again. He did plan to spend lunch in the break room, or maybe head home to see if Ares decided to stick around, not that Ares would be especially pleased to see him. He chewed on the corner of his lip, thoughts drifting to Ares and the mood he seemed to be in the last couple of days. He was starting to think more and more that something happened Ares wasn't telling him about, something putting Ares on edge.

Cammus cleared his throat, drawing Charles' attention back to him, and Charles realized his hand had drifted up to trace the scars left by Ares' teeth through his shirt. Charles lit a cigarillo and turned his attention to the menu, but he needn't have bothered. They were at some dextro cafe, a small place right around the corner from Citadel Souvenirs, and what little levo options the place made were all variations on the same thing. At least they offered patio seating so he could smoke.

He tapped his lighter on the table and watched Cammus for a moment. "So … what do you think so far?"

Cammus glanced up at him and sat the menu aside. "Of Citadel Souvenirs?"

Charles nodded, taking a drag from his cigarillo.

The turian rumbled, leaning back in his chair, seeming far more relaxed off the clock and away from work. "It's a job. Something to pass the time and make a few extra credits." He turned a hand up before letting it fall back flat on the table. "I haven't spent a lot of time around other species, so it's interesting to see so many different ones living and working together, side by side."

"New to the Citadel, then?" Charles raised an eyebrow, turning his attention to the turian waiter who stopped at the table.

The conversation died down while they placed their orders, but as soon as the waiter left, Cammus picked it right back up again. "Yes, but I've visited before." He tilted his head a little. "Years ago. You?"

Charles took the last drag from his cigarillo and stamped it out in the ashtray the waiter left for him. "I've lived here for a few years now, but I've mostly stayed to myself."

"I thought humans were supposed to be really social?" Cammus fluttered his mandibles.

Charles raised the corner of his mouth in a smirk. "I thought turians were all supposed to be militaristic and either stick around after their mandatory time or take a job in law enforcement or security?" He shrugged, tilting his head toward his shoulder. "Or join the Blue Suns."

Cammus laughed, the sound rough and heavily flanged, mandibles flaring. "Fair point." He hummed. "I suppose I'm not exactly the average turian."

Charles rolled the thought over for a moment and pursed his lips before sucking on his teeth. "I'm not exactly the average human, sorry to disappoint."

Cammus chuffed. "Who says I'm disappointed?" He flicked a mandible. "At least I know you don't hate all turians on sight." He paused, mandibles stilling. "I just mean … a few of the humans I've met so far … hmm."

Charles snorted, flicking the lid on his lighter opened and closed. "No, you mean you smell another turian on me, but yeah, there are still a lot of bitter humans from the First Contact War. Not saying there aren't still a lot of bitter turians, too."

Cammus smiled, shifting forward to rest his arms on the table. "I'm told it's rude to other species to acknowledge what I smell on them."

"It probably is, but whatever." Charles shrugged. "Etiquette really isn't my specialty."

Cammus let out a thoughtful rumble and asked, "What is?"

Smirking, Charles flicked the lid on his lighter again. "Being a smart ass."

The waiter came by again, setting glasses down in front of both of them before returning to the counter. Charles watched him as he carried back two baskets of food before moving off to help other customers. The turian moved with a sort of grace beyond what he'd seen from most other turians, almost like a dancer, gliding across the floor, it fascinated Charles.

Cammus hummed, the sound almost hesitant. "I think Irene might still be bitter over the war."

"Irene's a bitch, and she's bitter about everything." Charles waved his hand, putting down his lighter to pick up the sandwich in front of him. "Lania's alright, but she mostly supervises first shift and is gone by the time I get to work. Who all have you met so far?"

"Just Irene, Mahlia, Okal, and you, of course." Cammus started picking at his food. "Are there any other turians who work there?"

"Poleceus." Charles took a bite, chewed and swallowed before adding. "He only works third, and I've only met him maybe four times."

His omni-tool pinged, so he sat down his sandwich and opened it, seeing a message waiting for him in his inbox. He clicked on the message, and his heart sank, finding the paperwork the lawyer mentioned sending. Moving his finger to the attachments to activate the link, Charles swiped his finger over to the 'download' icon and waited until the files transferred to his omni-tool before looking them over.

"Is something wrong?" Cammus asked.

Charles looked back up at the turian and took a deep breath. "The lawyer just sent me the paperwork for my dad's estate. I found out this morning he passed away a few weeks ago."

Cammus' mandibles stilled again, and he shifted in his seat. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Charles rubbed a hand over his face and closed his omni-tool, mood crashing again. "I'm more sorry I have to be the one to deal with the legal crap."

After torturing himself the rest of the day by dwelling on the paperwork waiting for his signature, Charles felt sullen and irritable by the time he got home. He lit a cigarillo as he stepped inside, spotting Ares out on the balcony, Eezo sitting at his feet staring up at him. Eezo turned toward Charles as he made his way to the balcony, running back inside to circle around his legs as she followed him back outside.

Leaving his cigarillo between his lips, he squatted down next to the dog, taking her head in his hands to scratch his fingers through her fur. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth and she gave him a soft yip before wriggling around, trying to get at his face. He pulled his cigarillo away and exhaled the smoke before leaning in to kiss the top of her nose. Despite feeling like shit, she brought a small smile to his face.

Standing back up, he leaned over the railing next to Ares and stared out over the Citadel. After a moment, he glanced at Ares and said, "The lawyer sent me the documents. I looked at them a little at lunch. Haven't signed anything yet."

"And?" Ares blew out a breath of smoke and glanced down at Charles. "What do you plan to do?"

Charles held Ares' gaze for a moment and lifted his shoulders. "I guess sign off for the lawyer to handle his funeral. I don't want anything to do with it. There's a list of his shit. If any of it's mom's … I don't know." He turned his attention back to the flow of people moving down below. "Nothing I really recognized as being hers, so nothing that really means shit to me. Nothing of Sarah's. Which probably means the sonofabitch either sold it all off or threw it away. I think I'm just going to tell the lawyer to sell everything. Fuck, or burn it. Think I'm going to have him cremate the body. I don't want the asshole buried anywhere near mom and Sarah." Furrowing his brow, he looked back over at Ares. "Or do you think it would look too bad?"

Ares hummed as if in consideration, then shrugged. "I don't know. Turians don't really think of the remains like humans do. When someone's dead, it doesn't really matter. Funerals or cremations are more for those living than dead, and we usually just cremate and spread the ashes. It's more uncommon to bury bodies."

Charles took a heavy drag, letting it back out with a sigh and said, "Either way is common for us … but with Mom and Sarah already buried on Shanxi … it's probably expected he be buried there, too." He rubbed his forehead, headache creeping back in. "Sort of a social taboo if I don't have him buried there, I guess. Hell, people who knew my family probably expect for me to be shipped back there to be buried right next to the motherfucker, too." The thought nearly made Charles barf over the edge of the balcony. He grimaced, looking at Ares with wide eyes. "If I die and you're still around, please don't let them put me in the ground next to that asshole."

"What would you have me do?" Ares rumbled, curiosity evident in his subvocals.

Charles shook his head. "I don't know. I don't care. Anything would be better than being next to him."

Ares hummed, seeming to contemplate Charles' request for a moment before he said, "Alright. I'll do something."

"Thank you." Charles took a deep breath, rubbing at his forehead again before taking a drag from his cigarillo. After a minute, he turned his attention back to the subject of his father's corpse. "Cremating him instead of burying him with the rest of the family would make it pretty clear I don't respect him. But … anyone who knew our family before I left wouldn't be surprised. They knew how he treated me. How he treated Mom, too."

"I heard plenty of things about grudges being forgiven when someone dies." Ares shrugged and took a pull from his cigarette. "Sounds like a stupid concept, but I hear humans tend to take that to heart to make themselves look good."

Bracing his elbows on the railing, Charles looked down over the Citadel. He stayed quiet for a minute but then, shoulders sagging in defeat, he said, "Yeah … fuck it, I guess I'll just have him buried somewhere near Mom. What does it really matter, it's just a fucking a body."

Ares rumbled, giving Charles a slight nod of his head when he glanced up. "A very turian way of thinking." He turned his attention back to the skycars rushing by.

Charles snorted, feeling the first hint of a real smile since getting the damn paperwork. "Guess you've been a bad influence on me." He hummed and shrugged. "Or a really good one."

"Or a logical one." Ares glanced down again. "It is just a fucking corpse. Humans have a strange fascination with them that I'll never understand."

Charles held Ares' gaze and shook his head. "That's alright. I'm sure there's a lot about you and turians, in general, I'll never understand, either."

"Probably."

Charles sucked in a deep breath, pushing away from the railing. "I should probably take Eezo for a walk. I figure you probably didn't take her out, yeah?"

Ares grumbled and looked at Charles. "I fed it. That wasn't enough?"

Charles shook his head, putting out his cigarillo. "I didn't say that." He turned, heading back into the apartment. "Thanks for feeding her." He glanced back over his shoulder. "You coming with us?"

Thrumming, Ares flicked the cigarette off the balcony and turned to follow. "I got this thing to entertain you, not to be a fucking chore everytime I come here."

Charles stopped in his tracks, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling, tension creeping down his neck to spread out over his shoulders and back. "Ares … I didn't ask you to do anything with Eezo." Righting himself, he turned to face the turian. "I'm not judging you for not taking her out, I just wasn't going to if you already did. That's it." He reached up, rubbing his hands over his face before going to get her leash. "You don't need to come with us if you don't want to, but yeah, she is a living being. She needs things like feeding, a place to piss and shit that's not going to get her yelled at, and exercise. It's part of having a pet. You take care of them." He put the leash on Eezo then looked at Ares. "It's not like she can hunt in the apartment."

Ares gave him a rumble of agreement, but it carried an insincere quality to it, leaving Charles feeling even more broody than he did a few minutes before. Ares grabbed his jacket, sliding it on and throwing up his hood before moving to the door. He followed Charles out, waiting in silence as he locked the door. Charles didn't know what the hell was going on with Ares, but he'd wait him out. Eventually, the turian would start talking, and if he didn't, then Charles would just have to suck it up and pester the hell out of him until it pissed him off enough to make him talk.

Feeling too tired to care about whether or not going to the gardens with Ares was a good idea, Charles didn't resist when Eezo led them off in that direction. Besides, getting a few minutes to run around off her leash would be good for Eezo, especially since he wasn't feeling up to the task of playing with her. If the location didn't suit him, Ares didn't say anything when they reached the walled-off gardens and Charles opened the gate.

Once inside, Charles took the leash off of Eezo, and the dog started jumping at his legs, trying to entice him to play. He reached down, ruffling her head, and then pointed out towards the trees. "Go on, girl. Go play."

Eezo took off running, stopping at the first tree to sniff around it before squatting next to it. Charles glanced at Ares, getting his attention and nodded at one of the nearby benches. Ares rumbled and followed Charles over to sit down. They watched Eezo for a few minutes as the dog ran through the area, sniffing different plants and digging at seemingly random spots in the dirt.

They weren't there long before Charles glanced up and caught sight of Lindsey, a smile plastered on her face, making her way over to them. He let out a little groan, glancing at Ares who raised a brow plate, skepticism written clearly on his face along with the unspoken question of who the hell the chick was. Charles didn't really have time to apologize or explain. Lindsey came to a stop with a little bounce, making her tits jiggle and her black hair swing back and forth before she swept her ponytail down over her shoulder.

He slapped a fake smile on his face. "Hey, Lindsey."

"Hey. Where's Eezo?" She turned her attention to Ares, wide-eyed gaze sweeping over him.

Ares didn't put on his prosthetics before they left, and even though he'd pulled his hood down low, the scars were still visible even if a little less noticeable. Which meant Ares probably felt extra uncomfortable with the bubbly, twenty-two-year-old human staring at him. Charles pointed at Eezo, circling a tree, trying to scramble up the bark only to slide back down. Lindsey looked over her shoulder, and Charles took the opportunity to mouth the words 'I'm sorry' at Ares. Ares grunted, attention shifting to stare at the woman.

Lindsey turned back around, the smile still on her face until she saw Ares staring at her and shifted, clearly uncomfortable under his scrutiny. But then she looked back at Charles, and her smile popped back into place. "So, who's your friend?"

"Ah … Thanatos." Charles cleared his throat a little, glancing in Ares direction but not quite meeting his eyes, already dreading the backlash. "This is Lindsey, she used to work at Citadel Souvenirs."

Lindsey quirked an eyebrow and turned her smile back on Ares, holding out her hand. "Thanatos? Interesting name."

Ares hummed and looked at her hand before lifting his gaze to hers. "My parents had an interest in human mythology."

Charles fought back a bark of laughter, his throat making an odd noise. They both knew damn well his parents never even heard of a human yet when he was born. Lindsey's smile faltered, and she dropped her hand, confusion creasing the corners of her eyes for a second.

"Oh. Cool," she said, tone making it clear she was completely clueless. Hell, she probably didn't even know who Thanatos was in relation to human mythology. She turned her attention back to Charles. "So, uh … I'm going to go say hi to Eezo. I'll catch up with you later."

Charles just nodded, lifting his hand in a wave to her. She flashed him another smile, then turned and ran off, which was kind of nice to watch. Eezo heard her coming and barked, wagging her tail before bounding toward Lindsey.

"Not the smartest human, is she?" Ares asked, voice dry and flat.

Charles chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no she isn't. I never really talked to her much when we worked together. I was actually surprised she even knew my name when I first started bringing Eezo here. Now, hell, most days I'm surprised she even knows her own name."

"You fuck her yet?"

Charles furrowed his brows and glanced at Ares. "No … she doesn't really interest me. Her personality is too … empty. I'd be bored in five minutes."

Ares snorted. "You're fucking, not having a conversation."

Charles shrugged, turning his focus out toward Lindsey who let Eezo chase her. It's not like he'd never thought about screwing her, but like he said, it surprised him for her to even know his name. "I guess. Appearance just isn't usually enough for me. Sure, I've had a few mindless fucks where I otherwise don't have anything in common with the person, but most of the time, I like to at least be able to carry on an interesting conversation with them." He tilted his head, watching her ass as she ran. Maybe he should reconsider.

Ares rumbled in amusement, digging out a cigarette. "Strange human."

Charles glanced at Ares, relieved to hear humor coming from the turian, even if at his expense, and pulled out his own cigarillo, arching an eyebrow. "You're welcome to her." He lifted one side of his mouth in a smirk. "Maybe we can convince her to come home with us tonight. Having you there might actually make her interesting."

Ares hummed around his cigarette. "Maybe …."

Charles chuckled and lit his cigarillo before sliding the lighter back into his pocket. "Either way, she plays with Eezo, so … she's not so bad."

"Perhaps," Ares said, falling silent to smoke.

Charles leaned back on his palms, watching Eezo pounce on Lindsey who dropped dramatically to the grass and let out a distressed sound when Eezo caught her. He chuckled as Eezo climbed on top of the woman's chest, wagging her tail and licking Lindsey's face. She squealed, scrunching up her nose and tilting her head away from the dog's kisses. She threw her arms around Eezo and rolled them over, pulling herself to her knees to scratch Eezo's belly.

When he was nearly done with his cigarillo, he leaned forward again, grabbing the leash off the bench next to him. He whistled, and Eezo's head snapped up, zeroing in on him before running over, tail wagging, tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth. Grinning, he put out his cigarillo, stuffing the butt into his pocket and leaned down. He ran his hands over Eezo's head, scratching into her fur before putting her leash back on.

Lindsey followed Eezo over, lower lip stuck out in a pout. "Leaving already?"

"It's been a long day." He met her gaze, forcing a smile on his face. "Besides," he pointed over at a man—he assumed her boss—watching her from the entrance, "aren't you on the clock?"

Lindsey looked over her shoulder at the man before turning her attention back to Charles, sounding sad when she said, "Yeah … are you bringing her back in the morning?"

He shrugged. "Probably."

She grinned, her whole face lighting up. "Okay, see you tomorrow!" She bounced on her feet a little, making Charles wonder if it wasn't intentional to draw his gaze back to her chest, and she waved before taking off and running toward the guy.

"Right," Charles muttered, standing up and glancing back at Ares. "Ready to head back?"

"'Bout time." Ares stamped out his cigarette.

Charles huffed, annoyed to see Ares went right back to being grumpy. "Alright, crabby ass. You know you didn't have to come."

He stood and shrugged his shoulders before tugging at his hood. "I wasn't going to stay stuck around your apartment."

Charles hummed, leading them back toward the entrance. "So, what do you do when I'm at work? Besides shooting my vidscreen?"

"Walk the Citadel, work on my weapons, my armor." He shrugged. "That's about it."

Charles nodded, mulling it over for a few seconds. "I know I'm not the best company right now, but is there anything you'd like to do?"

Ares hummed and lit another cigarette. "Sleep, fuck. That's it for now."

Charles smiled, moving close enough to grab onto the edge of Ares' jacket as they walked. "I wouldn't mind eating something first, but sleeping and fucking sound pretty damn good."

"Food sounds good, too. 'Though I have no idea where is actually good to eat." Ares blew out a breath of smoke. "Only been to two places."

Charles cocked an eyebrow, already knowing the turian wasn't familiar with all of the grand cuisines the Citadel offered, but he'd figured Ares would at least have tried a few places. "Where else have you tried?"

"Place called 'Le Bleu,'" Ares said, rumbling as he shrugged. "Good enough place as any."

"Le Bleu … that's mostly levo, isn't it? Human style?" He tilted his head to the side. "Haven't been there yet. I guess I could try it if you want to go there?"

Ares shrugged again, taking a long drag. "Again, it's as good a place as any."