The Asari Monastery
There was something different about Kaidan today.
Nothing major. (Ha! Major!) In fact, it was so small a change that she was relatively certain no-one else had even noticed. He just seemed… lighter, more relaxed. Which was pretty damned incredible considering where they were and what they were here to do. She was definitely not a fan of the screeching that she could hear in the distance.
But he seemed… well, less tense, certainly. Or perhaps just less tense than he had been. He was still holding himself with the expectant discipline required while on a mission. He was still alert, scanning the room for possible threats, entrances and exits. Yet, the way he held himself was just a little more… relaxed. Less ‘Officer on duty, sir!’ and more ‘let’s see what’s out there…’.
It reminded her of the difference she’d noticed aboard the SR1.
There’d come a point – she couldn’t remember when exactly, and she was pretty sure that Ash’s constant teasing had been the cause rather than anything she’d done herself – but there’d come a point where he’d stopped being so… stiff.
For the first few months aboard the SR1, she’d been genuinely concerned that her bright, brave, brilliant lieutenant could, at any moment, be temporarily out of commission because he’d been so busy standing at perfect, rigid attention around her that he’d actually managed to sprain something.
Then, one day – she couldn’t now recall what planet or what mission, save for the fact that they’d been on the way to Feros – there had been a damn hard fight. Not damn hard in the good way – where you’d known you were going to win, but only if you worked at it hard enough – but one of those damn hard fights where it’d really, truly looked like they might not survive. They’d been exhausted – really exhausted, the kind of exhaustion that grafted itself to your bones – and he just hadn’t had the energy to stand to attention.
So he hadn’t, and she might have smiled at him because of it.
And he’d never bothered standing to attention since.
She liked it, this new/old lightness. It was a hell of a lot better than the professional detachment and mistrust that had been present on Mars, and a little better than the uncertainty that had sat between them ever since he’d re-joined the Normandy.
It made the creepy, darkened monastery just that little bit more bearable. At least, until she heard something move to her right.
She froze.
“What was that?” she hissed, immediately alert. God-damned darkness, she hated not being able to check her targets.
“I, uh… tripped. Sorry.”
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Stripes
Charlie had never been more comfortable in her life. She lay on her stomach in her bunk, perfectly relaxed, as Garrus lazily trailed a talon in lines across her back.
"I really do like your stripes," he commented, in an offhand sort of way.
"My what?" Charlie asked sleepily.
"Your stripes."
"... What stripes?" she asked, starting to wake up a bit.
"... Your stripes. These."
Charlie raised herself up on her elbows to look at him. "Garrus, what the fuck are you taking about?"
"What do you mean? These." He ran a talon across her arm, where she could see.
"Garrus, there aren't any stripes there. It's just skin."
"What are you taking about? Of course there are stripes on your skin. Here."
"Are you messing with me?
"Are you messing with me?"
___
"And he's convinced that I have stripes. Says all the humans have them."
"That's insane," Joker said. "You're insane. Raise by ten credits."
"... But you do have stripes," Tali put in. All the humans at the table turned to stare at her. "What? You do!"
"See?!" Garrus gestured wildly. "It's not just me!"
"Hang on," Vega interjected, putting his cards down. "You both see stripes? On all of us?"
"I don't see anything," Grunt said.
"Humans do have stripes," said EDI. Though she sat in on the poker games socially, she wasn't allowed to play, since she counted cards automatically. "Though they're only visible in the UV range."
Once again all the humans turned in concert, though this time there was a general uproar.
"Wait wait wait." Joker managed to raise his voice above the clamor. "What do they look like? Are they all the same?"
EDI, Garrus, and Tali looked the humans over. "No," Tali said. Some are blockier, some are more swirly, and they're all slightly different colors."
"So what do MINE look like?" Joker asked.
"Wish I could see 'em," Vega said, looking down at his own arm.
"... There's gotta be a marker or something somewhere on this ship, right?" Charlie asked.
Everyone went quiet again for a moment.
"Ensign Fowl does charcoals," Tali finally said.
___
There was a knock at the door.
"I'm not getting up," Ensign Renards said.
"If that's Checkov coming to borrow money again, you can fuck off!" Ensign Fowl shouted.
"It is not Checkov," a very familiar voice said from the other side of the door.
Fowl and Renards gave each other an alarmed look, then scrambled out of their respective bunks. Renards shoved sundry items that had been strewn across the floor under his bunk then stood at attention while Fowl hurried to the door.
"Commander!" they said, saluting in unison as Fowl ripped the door open.
"At ease."
They were decidedly not at ease. They did their best not to gape at the Commander Shepard in their doorway, her closest companions crowded in the hallway behind her.
"What, uh..." Fowl started. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"I actually have a favor to ask you, Ensign. May I borrow one of your charcoals?"
Fowl stared. Behind him, Renards hurriedly grabbed a charcoal out of a tin and shoved it into Fowl's hand.
"Sure," Fowl finally said, still a bit dazed, and held the charcoal out. "Sure."
"Thank you, Ensign. As you were."
The two ensigns gaped through the open doorway as the group of some of the most respected and feared soldiers in the galaxy turned away and started whispering together on the way down the hall. They didn't catch much, other than "EDI can trace them" and something about... stripes?
___
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