Chapter 48: Exerted
Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belong to BioWare.
Author's Note: This story does not necessarily follow any particular timeline and may not be considered chronologically accurate.
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That afternoon, after a frankly mortifying departure from the med-bay, Cass remembered she had a date with James. At least, it might have been a date, given that the seasoned marine had invited her to spend one-on-one time with him.
Until, just as she was leaving the training room, she invited Vadix to join her.
She felt…some type of way about leaving the turian alone, but she couldn't really put the feeling into words. Whatever the emotional source, Cass blurted out the words before she'd considered the consequences of her actions.
Surprisingly, to the human at least, Vadix simply shrugged his acceptance and followed her out the door.
They continued to chat amicably as they traveled to the belly of the ship, stepping out of the elevator without ever having to address that comment Dr. Chakwas made.
Maybe if she pretended long enough that it was nothing, that it held no meaning, her farce would become reality.
Far be it from Cass to feel shy or sheepish about intimate interactions, but when dealing with someone who wasn't a client, and someone who was in fact not her significant other—especially given how much she may wish differently—any discussion on the matter was entirely embarrassing.
What had the doctor been thinking? Did she suspect something was going on? Or was she only making a joke? A bad joke, surely, but the other woman couldn't possibly know that Cass actually wanted her partner in that way.
She'd even had dreams about it.
No, that was ridiculous. The most reasonable explanation was that Dr. Chakwas had been trying to relate to the "young people" on their level, and instead had successfully scarred them. Or at least Cass. Her cohort seemed to have been unaffected by the somewhat crude remark.
Cass had always assumed he was so innocent and naïve, but it seemed he was much more comfortable than she imagined.
That could be a good thing, the redhead thought with curiosity.
"What are you two jabbering about?"
The question caught her off guard and immediately she lifted both hands in surrender. No matter how much she might want to do things to him, she refused to be caught in a compromising position with her partner again.
James was looking intently at her, his eyes flicking pointedly at her companion.
Tilting her head slightly, Cass answered, "Nothing in particular. We were just discussing our ongoing training." She dropped her hands and shrugged, moving again toward the lieutenant. Then, noticing the surrounding equipment, she gestured with her chin and asked, "Are you going to lead a workout?"
The marine slowly nodded his head, his hands rubbing together in satisfaction or anxiety—she couldn't tell which. "That was the plan, mami." Then James let his eyes settle on the towering turian. "Think you'll be able to handle yourself?"
If Cass didn't know any better, she would have thought the pair of them were sizing each other up, a figurative dick contest.
And if they were, well, thanks to Samantha, she now knew with 100% confidence who would win that contest.
While the men stared each other down for just a moment longer than necessary, Cass began to size them both up as well. She knew which one she wanted most as her partner in bed—maybe in life too, a small voice whispered in her mind, a spring breeze bringing hope for the end of winter.
Nonsense, she answered gruffly. That was not a good idea. A mistake. One she would never make again. Committed relationships were like common sense—not so common anymore.
"I'm sure that won't be a problem."
Vadix's voice now caught her off-guard, but when her eyes focused again Cass realized he was simply answering the marine's question. Right. Pull it together, she chided herself.
"Excellent." James's voice was like ice, watching the alien like they were both fighting in the First Contact War.
Fearing an explosion reminiscent of that same conflict, Cass stepped between the two men, flipping her head from shoulder to shoulder in order to look both of them in the eye. "This should be fun," she forced some fake enthusiasm into her voice. "But you'll have to show me what to do."
James was the first to break. "Sure thing. Have you ever used free weights before?" He placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward another area—and away from Vadix. She could feel the heat of his skin through the standard issue uniform, the same as what the man wore, but there was no accompanying zing like she'd expected.
Odd, that.
The redhead looked up into his face as she murmured a negative response, studying his profile as they walked slowly. He wasn't gorgeous exactly, but there was a sort of rugged beauty to the lines of his nose and jaw. The stubble covering the edges of his cheeks was, frankly, hot. And from the neck down, the man was positively sexy: he looked like he could easily bench press her entire body, and then some. The thought of his naked weight bearing down on her body, covered by the hardened muscles that roped through his limbs, made her skin heat.
But the imaginary voice that accompanied these images didn't belong to the human before her.
Refusing to acknowledge the pointed preference, slowly Cass slid her fingers up his arm, caressing the rise and fall of his bicep and the surrounding muscles.
Immediately she felt his hand pressing her closer.
The incorporeal voice in her mind only grew louder, accompanied not by a body but by a growl.
The growl was predatory, protective, and possessive.
"Sorry," the word tumbled out of her mouth as she stepped away.
Cass expected to see disappointment in his face, but the expression James now wore was definitely satisfied. "That's alright, mami," he replied, tone low and husky. "Happy to take you to the petting zoo anytime you want."
Her eyes widened momentarily before the woman glanced behind her toward Vadix. Luckily, either the turian hadn't heard the exchange or, more likely, he was ignoring the entire thing as he continued to select thick discs before sliding them onto a silver bar.
James tightened his grip once before releasing her. "First thing to know is that the way you use free weights is by working against gravity. It helps if you set a goal and a schedule. The order matters too, so you should do full-body exercises before smaller movements that target specific muscle groups. For you, we'll start simple with lighter weights, for more of an endurance-minded objective. You with me so far?"
His eyes really were kind, even if the sheer size of him was rather intimidating. Cass nodded, muttering something about muscles and goals.
What was she supposed to be doing here?
Her imagination's combination of the marine's body with the turian's voice had apparently halted all rational thought in its tracks.
Cass pinched herself, the sharp pain forcing her back to the present. Focus, she told herself once more.
"Go ahead and pick a matching pair of dumbbells. You want one that isn't too light but not too heavy. We'll start with three sets of 12 reps each, resting for a minute between sets."
Nodding rhythmically to herself, Cass squatted next to the rack of weights, gingerly lifting the second-lightest ones with both hands. "I think I better start with this one," she glanced up at her instructor.
From this vantage point, his mass was menacing. But then he smiled at her, and Cass grinned back. She stood once more and followed him into the central area of the cargo bay.
Vadix, she noticed, remained off to the side, lifting the weighted bar with what looked like as much effort as she put into licking an ice cream cone.
Or licking anything, really.
"Let's start with a weighted glute bridge," James instructed. As she turned back around, he was dropping to the floor, laying his back against the unforgiving metal with his knees bent and feet planted flat on the ground. He motioned for her to mimic him.
Once she was down, the man lifted his dumbbell—it was at least triple her own weight, if not more—and waited for her to follow suit. Then he said, "Place the weight just above your hip bones, holding it in place with your hands. Then we're going to push up with our heels, pressing the pelvis upward and squeezing the glutes. You know you've reached the top, creating a 'bridge', when your body forms a straight line from knees to shoulders."
Demonstrating this, Cass watched, knowing she face betrayed how perplexed she was. It looked more like a kinky sex position than a legitimate exercise. "What is this supposed to do?"
James chuckled as he lowered himself back to the ground then sat up slightly, resting on one elbow. With the other arm, he reached toward her. "The main muscle groups this works are your calves, hamstrings, and glutes. Pretty similar to a squat, but it exerts less stress on your lower back." As he listed the names, he gently touched the associated part of her body.
"Okay," she said more to herself, looking up at the ceiling as she grasped the unfamiliar dumbbell with her fingers. "Here goes." Completing the motion once, she glanced at James while her body created the so-called bridge.
He was looking back at her, his own body a thicker mirror image of hers, his lips quirked up at one corner. "11 more," he told her.
Nodding slightly, she turned to face the roof once more, counting the reps in her head. Interestingly, the motion didn't leave her feeling winded or sore like she thought it would. Maybe she needed a heavier weight.
When they hit 12 repetitions her breathing was hardly labored, and the man was grinning wide once more. "One minute of rest, then we do it again," he winked.
Cass nodded again, lost in thought. This was certainly one of those things she'd never planned to do. Her idea of "exercise" was dancing—or sex. Not that either activity was ever done solely with the physical benefits in mind. It was simply a nice side effect.
Then again, all the sparring with Vadix had already made her body feel a little bit more toned. And she'd be lying if Cass said she didn't like the way it felt. So maybe she'd have to do more weightlifting, assuming it had similar benefits.
She'd never thought of herself as "out of shape" but neither was she particularly "in shape". Until now. And Cass found she rather liked it, the feel of her own body responding quickly and readily to the requests she made of it.
"You ready?"
James startled her slightly, and she nearly dropped the dumbbell. "Right, yes," she spluttered.
He counted them down and then did another twelve pelvic thrusts. After the second set, she could feel her muscles beginning to protest the motion. A minute later, they repeated this sequence once more and then she could really feel it along the back of her legs. Damn.
"Nice job," the man told her, moving his weight to one side of his body before standing. Before she could do the same, he extended a hand to the redhead.
Slipping her fingers into his solid grip, Cass met the marine's heavy gaze as she began to stand. His thumb brushed across her knuckles, and it felt like he was undressing her. A sudden hunger to bare herself to him was trying to claw its way from her nerves into her muscles. Cheeks flushing, she looked away from his eyes toward the ground.
Except that limited her ability to judge distance and she ended up standing nearly chest to chest with James, their hands still clasped, wrists pressed into their abdomens.
Grey eyes whipping up to stare at him, his dark gaze was centered on her lips. He licked his own, mouth parting slightly. She felt her lips imitate him, anticipation seeping out of her.
But he said nothing, did nothing.
Until a light touch began traveling up her side, leaving a faint tingle in its wake, moving behind her bent arm, hand still wrapped in his, to slide along the edge of her shoulder blade. The sensation continued to move, drifting over her collarbone, and up her neck until his thumb rested on her chin. Then he met her gaping eyes and Cass felt her already shallow breathing quicken once more.
Grazing her jawline once, James released her and stepped back, his eyes moving to focus on something behind her. "Sorry, reina. It's too easy to get distracted with you," he murmured, his voice deeper than before, rippling across the space that separated them, even as the man continued to look away from her.
Jerking fully upright, Cass gathered her wits before looking in the same direction.
Vadix, her heart lamented, sounding like a prisoner inside her chest, shattering the glass walls of her battered organ.
He wasn't even looking at her but she could recognize the anxiety in his stance.
Clearly, something had happened.
And it would be too much of a coincidence to be unrelated to her own behavior.
Cass wanted to slap herself. Here she'd just been bemoaning the lack of commitment in serious relationships these days, and in the next moment she was throwing herself at the first man to express an interest in her.
True, she wasn't in an exclusive relationship, which meant she didn't owe him anything.
But there was no denying it anymore: she wanted to be.
And she couldn't stay even true to those feelings with him in the room.
Maybe she was the problem.
"Cass?" James was asking her, gripping her shoulders and bending down so his head was closer to her level. "You alright, mami?"
She could only nod mechanically. "What's the next exercise?"
Confusion flashed across his face. The man cocked his head, still watching her carefully. Then he shrugged, dropping his hands from her. "Next is a lunge."
James showed her how to position her legs, holding the dumbbells at her side, and then he counted off twelve reps as they dipped one knee toward the ground. Luckily, besides the verbal numbers, her trainer said nothing, leaving the redhead to ruminate inside her mind.
She used the quiet time to watch Vadix, working out across the floor.
The earlier thought kept returning, resounding across the stage of her brain: what if I'm the problem?
For years Cass had attributed so much of her pain and anguish to the actions of others. Everything that had happened before Kublai had not been her fault, she reminded herself. It wasn't her fault that her mother had been taken from her. It wasn't her fault that she'd had no one to rely on besides herself to make ends meet. It wasn't her fault that an adult, that man, had thought it was appropriate to take advantage of a vulnerable child.
And then there was everything that had happened with Kublai.
She had met him at the hospital, feeling bruised, battered, broken. And he had been kind.
That was it.
That was all it took for her to trust him without question, mere days after she'd had her fifteenth birthday, the day she'd fallen apart.
And before she'd realized it the kindness had turned into mind games, comparing her actions with his own and with her prior "love", he called it. It was like she was never enough for him, could never satiate his compulsive need for cultlike adoration.
Then he was constantly denying her small asks for something, anything, to demonstrate his feelings for her, denying her accusations when she spotted the signals of his infidelity, in body and in mind.
It was always her fault, their problems. After several months of blissful romance, he was making her earn what he'd previously given her for free.
But everything came with a cost. If only she had known sooner, perhaps she wouldn't have spent years of her soul on someone else, on him.
Perhaps she should have seen the signs, noticed the manipulation and grooming, recognized the inevitable conclusion before they reached it.
But she hadn't.
And she couldn't change the past.
What was done, was done.
All Cass could do now was learn from her mistakes and do her best to heal.
Like a faint echo, after they completed three sets of lunges for each leg, she could hear James giving instructions for the next exercise, something he called an overhead shoulder press. The woman tried to mimic his movements, feeling like only half her brain was functioning at this point, the other half lost to the world of what-if.