Chapter 56: Coveted

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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When Vadix woke to the sound of his preset alarm, a remnant of his old C-Sec schedule activated by his nearby biosignature, his head was pounding like a full-sized krogan was taking dance lessons atop his skull. Groaning, he sat up in bed and frowned, trying to clear the fog from his mind. He couldn't have slept that long. The turian remembered lying awake for what seemed like hours on end before giving up and settling into the kitchen with a bottle of alcohol. It wasn't something he liked to do, but he'd been at a loss for what else might solve the problem.

And not sleeping wasn't his only problem. No, now that he was thinking a little more clearly, he remembered what had kept him up: he was in love with a human.

And then he'd actually gone to her last night.

Gone down on her last night.

And, despite the fact that it had felt powerful and amazing and right, he couldn't help wondering what was wrong with him.

But, spirits, it had been awesome.

Vadix groaned again, leaning his head against the wall, thinking about his bad habit of making mistake after mistake.

Not only had he visited Cassana in the middle of the night, but they'd also had intimate relations too—oral sex, according to EDI.

Right in the middle of an attempted, self-directed pep talk to convince himself to pursue Juvelea.

Obviously, that plan had backfired.

Knowing he was at his wits' end and feeling like he'd hit rock bottom in the romance department, the man decided to take advantage of the present situation while he could and seek the advice of his mother: surely she would know how to fix this.

And hopefully he wouldn't run into Cassana again before he'd refocused on the right woman for him.

Rolling out of bed and straightening his clothes, Vadix strolled into the main room, finding his mother up and about. His father likely had already left for work. That was probably for the best, as he still needed to replace the bottle of liquor he'd "borrowed" last night.

"Morning," the man smiled, aiming for nonchalant.

But, of course, his mother saw right through him. She grinned wickedly, "I'm surprised you're awake. Sounded like you were up late last night—or early this morning, as the case may be."

Huffing uncomfortably, Vadix sat at the bar again. "I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.

"Oh please," Trebaana's subvocals conveying how humorous she found the situation. "You may not be very loud, maybe ever, but your Cass certainly knows how to express herself."

"Mother!" He was horrified. This was not something he wanted to discuss with the woman who'd raised him, even if she'd had similar experiences prior to finding him on her doorstep.

Or since.

Vadix thought he might be sick. He couldn't think about that.

And then his mother was speaking again, slightly less mischievous than before. "You know, there's nothing wrong with having passionate feelings or desires. What matters is that you share them with someone who cares about you, someone committed to working on a relationship with you. After all, staying in love is never as easy as falling in love."

"Things aren't like that between us, Mother." His own secondary vocals were complaining, wistful that this statement was not a lie.

Trebaana looked exasperated. "Vadix, honey, you're making this more complicated than need be."

Could things really be so simple?

Surely not.

A silent moment passed, and then she spoke again, "All I'm saying is you should think about it. Think about your future, what matters most." Resting a hand on his shoulder, his mother was vibrating with all the loving concern a parent could muster for their child.

Even though he knew she was trying to help, Vadix felt even more conflicted, his awareness resting heavily in his mind. It had sounded like encouragement, but then that last part, "what matters most", wasn't what he had expected.

What mattered most?

It was a question that merited a great deal of thought—more than he could muster in this hungover state of mind.

All the turian knew in that instant was that he needed to speak with Cassana.

Slouching away from the kitchen, Vadix turned toward the guest wing of the house, trying to plan what he'd say, how he could convey what he was feeling.

And then, as if he'd conjured her simply by thinking her name, suddenly she stood before him, her bag slung over a bare shoulder.

She looked tense, the muscles beneath her neck taut despite the smallness of her duffel. Vadix began to wonder why she was so on edge.

He stopped thinking when he noticed what she was wearing.

Like an ice age turian, uncivilized and full of lust, Vadix watched the contours of her physique, both the parts put on full display and the parts only hinted at by the fabric that covered the intimate parts of her body. An abrupt hunger growled within him, unfamiliar and lower than either of his stomachs.

Vadix barely caught the words she was saying, enraptured as he was.

"See you tonight," Cassana murmured without looking at him, a handful of heartbeats before she practically sprinted around him and to the front door.

What the hell?

Several seconds after the front door closed, he turned around and watched where she must have traveled to leave his home. The human had been so distant, almost cold. It was unlike her.

Had she been displeased with him after last night?

No, that couldn't be it—for once. When he had apologized, the fiery woman had looked him in the eye and said she regretted nothing.

Unless she'd changed her mind?

Perhaps his sudden departure had been the problem. Should he have stayed with her last night?

Or was there some other reason for this unexpected shift?

Vadix sighed deeply as he slouched to the sofa, mumbling, "Humans are so odd."

"What have you done now?"

His mother's voice was sharp, and it caught him off guard. After a moment's pause, he retorted with a slight stutter, "Well it's not my fault! She just…left."

Shoulders rising as she breathed deeply, Trebaana closed her eyes for several heartbeats before she replied. "Darling, at times like these, it is almost always the man's fault."

"Hey," Vadix replied, feeling hurt. "That's not fair. You don't even know what happened."

Then she sat next to her son, talons resting on his folded arms. "When has love ever been fair?" Her voice was gentle, subvocals trembling with hidden meaning. But she continued before the man could ask about it. "And I suppose I am slightly biased. You know how much I love you, Vadix; but it seems there is so much you do not know."

Staring at his mother, Vadix pondered if he truly wanted the answer to the question waiting on his tongue. But his desperation won out first.

"Then teach me."

Trebaana watched him for a long minute, gauging his determination. "Is this truly a conversation you wish to have with me? I am your mother after all." A half smile softened her severe features.

If turians could blush, Vadix knew he would have then. "I realize that. But whom else could I ask?"

With a nod she acknowledged this fact. "True enough. And it's not like the extranet is going to give you good information," the woman seemed to add as an afterthought. "Very well. I suppose we should have had this discussion with you years ago. Somehow I expected you would learn from your peers."

Vadix felt his mandibles drop loose from his cheeks in dismay. "What peers?" he demanded, rather more harshly than he'd intended.

His mother started at his tone, attempting to understand his words. "Whatever do you mean? I knew many of the other children your age were less than kind but surely…" she trailed off, gaze lost to space—it was the look he'd seen on her face so often these days, at least before he joined the Normandy. "Vadix, do you mean to tell me that no one ever befriended you?"

He could only shrug, feeling only shame for his outburst. Trebaana Ramraka was a gentle soul, though she covered it with a fierce exterior. He had always tried to keep the worst of the bullying to himself, knowing she would empathize poignantly with him.

It seemed he had succeeded in this only too well.

"Darling, I am so sorry." She hugged him tightly to her, cradling the side of his face against her chest. "No wonder you never brought anyone home to meet us," his mother murmured to herself.

As quickly as it had begun, the tender moment was over. The older turian pulled away, her face arranged into a perfectly businesslike expression. "In that case, we have a lot to cover," she articulated, slipping easily into the role of teacher.

And that was how Vadix finally discovered the details of turian courtship, both with regard to the physical aspect—discreet chaste touches, exclusive imbra in private and occasionally in public, and the bedroom customs and associated behavior sequences—and the emotional as well as cultural aspects—exchanging messages on specified dates and anniversaries, giving gifts to certain family members and friends prior to an engagement, and the danon when the older of the pair formally asks for the younger's exclusive partnership, in front of both of their parents, and everyone officially meets for the first time.

He also learned that his parents were on the conservative side of the spectrum when it came to demonstrating one's relationship status: the way she talked about public displays of affection, one would think Trebaana saw this practice as equivalent to public displays of nudity.

Her opinion of a turian couple's wedding night, however, was far more agreeable—Vadix would be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued by this act, a hunt almost, but imagining his mother and father participating in anything close to this was somewhat nauseating.

That was one thing he would rather use the extranet to learn.

When Trebaana released him from lecture, remembering an errand she needed to run, the young man wandered the main room, deep in thought, until he found himself leaning against the hallway just outside of the guest room.

The room where Cassana had slept the night before.

The room, he knew now, he should have stayed in last night.

He was close enough that the door sensor recognized his presence, remaining open so he could see into the room beyond the frame. Vadix could picture the way she'd looked, sprawled across the bed, without even closing his eyes.

Armed with newfound knowledge, the turian realized he wanted to spend every night with Cassana, locked in conversation and in bed. Not only was she physically attractive to him, but she was also intellectually attractive. She was smart and brave, constantly challenging him to grow and develop, and yet to be himself. It was something she did without even trying, and it was something he never wanted to lose.

Lounging into the bedroom, Vadix took a fortifying breath. Her scent still permeated the air, and the smell of her was calming. But something about it was also arresting, like a duikeryx had reared in front of him, lodging its forward-facing horns as high as it could reach into his lower abdomen.

His scent was there too.

The thought tumbled against his brain, pushing him into action as he stumbled farther into the room.

Vadix needed to see her again. He needed to tell her how he felt. And he needed to do it under controlled circumstances—or he wasn't sure he'd be able to control himself.

He sagged into a seat on the bed, typing a short message out on his omni-tool.

Where are you?

Then Vadix hit send, falling onto his back and stretching out his arms. Hopefully she would respond quickly.

But the seconds dragged and he nearly ripped apart a pillow from the anxiety pooling in his midsection. Releasing the innocent article, the turian stretched his talons out, willing himself to relax as his arms slowly wound down from above his head back to his side.

His forearm brushed against something foreign on the way. Rolling over, he turned to look at the unexpected fabric, so different from the sheets that twisted across the mattress.

Cocking his head, Vadix tried to assess what he was looking at. The midnight blue was almost black and bundled into a chaotic ball, the occasional grey or light blue line adding to the confusion. He pulled it out from half-under the edge of a pillow to inspect it better.

As the mound stretched into a bipedal shape, two smaller bits of cloth fell out of the wad and onto the floor. The first was roughly triangular, the front and back pieces symmetrical, and made of a shimmery purple fabric. The second textile was composed of two other three-sided shapes stitched close together with tails coming off either side, made of a matching violet material. Something about the second article niggled at his memory, like Vadix ought to know what it was.

Whatever it was, the clothing clearly belonged to Cassana.

If only he knew where she'd gone, he could return it to her.

With the first portion laid out, Vadix identified it as their assigned uniform while aboard the Normandy. He wasn't sure how many the human had, but she would surely want to have it back in her possession as soon as possible. Carefully he folded it in half and in half again into a sort of rectangular shape. One more fold and it was mostly square.

Vadix shrugged at his work, placed the last two pieces of clothing on top, and took the pile back into the main room. He left it on the table and returned to his own room so he could prepare for the day.

Why wasn't Cassana responding?

He worried over this for some time, only partially paying attention to what he was doing.

By the time she answered, he had showered and dressed and eaten, even managing to tidy up the bedrooms and the kitchen before his mother returned home.

Just had brunch with my friend Duron. Leaving now. Why?

Duron?

Brunch?

Duron?

That was a turian name.

Luckily, Vadix hadn't been holding anything in his talons when he read this message, as both hands clenched into tight fists.

He wanted to punch something, or someone.

Preferably this Duron man.

Cassana was his: his coworker, his friend, his…

Except she wasn't anything more than that.

Not yet anyway.

No matter how much he wanted her to be, the woman still had choices, options.

And even if she was "his" in some romantic way, she would still have choices, options.

What if she picked an option other than him?

What if she chose Duron?

Fine. Let her.

You forgot some things at the house. Better come get them. See you on the ship.

She wasn't the only one with choices.