Show Me Yours, Tough Guy

“I won’t be long,” she said as they entered the pet shop. She waved to the krogan, made that exaggerated guilty look kids used when they were caught doing things they weren’t supposed to, and disappeared behind the counter. With a glance at Shepard, the krogan followed. He scolded, she agreed he was right, and by the time she’d gathered her things and was ready to go, Adara had no doubt in her mind that the krogan would definitely want to have a few words with Shepard at some point in the next few days.

Even Commander Shepard didn’t actively go out of her way to deal with angry krogan if she didn’t have to.

“What was his beef?” she asked, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “He mad that I’m taking you on?”

If this is the new normal, I’m not sure I’ve got it in me.

There was no guarantee it would be asked of her, at least not yet. She was just with the Normandy to oversee the retrofits for the time being, and Je - the Commander wasn’t obligated to have her stay any longer than necessary. Truth be told, Sam wasn’t certain which outcome she was expecting, or even which she preferred.

After taking a few long moments to recompose herself, the specialist managed to gather her courage enough to look for Shepard. She’d been all but certain her CO was visiting Alenko in Huerta, and when her guess proved right, it took another long moment to try and sort out what to say. Was there even anything that could be said after all this time? Just turn and walk away. Reason one, it’s been fourteen years. Reason two, you’re in a hospital. Reason three, she looks absolutely beaten down…

Oh, to hell with that. I don’t take orders from a specialist.

When she strode up next to Shepard, she made sure to keep her distance. On the off chance she wasn’t wanted - or wasn’t recognized - she could turn and walk away, she thought with a hard swallow.

She trailed off, then blinked as the woman’s words registered more closely. “Red Line, huh?” she asked. It took a little effort to force herself to straighten up and look to her side, to shove a vague grin onto her face and attempt to make conversation. The woman was one of the Normandy crew, by the uniform; her face rang a bell but Jenna could not for the life of her place where she had seen it. But if she was Normandy then Jenna had no intention of ignoring her outright, no matter how bad the day had been. 

“Had one of those in Chicago -- shuttle transit up and down the lake,” she went on. Her eyes tracked over the specialist’s face, and with the mention of Chicago something clicked into place and the familiarity grew stronger. “I--” She stopped, collected her thoughts for a moment, and then went on slowly, “I’m sorry-- I could swear I know you from somewhere. Was it Chicago you were from too?”

It was Sam. Or at least she thought so. Something about the eyes, the tone of voice -- there was little of the child in the grown woman who now stood in front of Jenna, but she could have sworn...Or was she deluding herself, looking for a long-lost friendly face to shore her up against the exhaustion of the past few weeks?

         “Lead the way then.  I’m interested to see a          ship other than mine.”

                                           Well, in real life,

      one doesn’t move on an eight-by-eight square grid.

But that didn’t mean she liked the idea of just leaving her flat. This was all a little too close to what she’d once had for comfort. 

                        “ with good reason. “ reason she was beyond explaining at the moment. this wasn’t the place or time to describe omega’s recovery or her efforts to direct the rebuild, no—- this was a celebration, a moment of relaxation in a time that made it seem impossible to do so. eyes lingered on the commander’s before gaze drifted to the whiskey. “ came prepared didn’t you? “ there was an indisputable amusement in her words, and a slight tilt of her head ( she was more curious of how quickly or slowly they’d get through the bottle of whiskey ). body pushed away from the wall, to let clicking heels close the distance between them.

                        the game she played—— aria made sure the distance between was on the border of comfortable and intruding on personal space. there was so doubt the placid expression on her features his the high energy that BUZZED under her skin, and LEAKED through her eyes as an unsatisfied hunger. but aria maintained composure, took what ball of energy that filled her chest, settle there with patience. it would be released by the end of the night ( SHE HOPED ). all in all, her plans were not too fully overwhelm the commander with an arsenal of methods that would make this BEYOND the intimacy of two friends having a drink. she would very simply and easily cross that very line one gesture at a time

How the hell did Aria do that, that manner of turning all the air in a room to electricity? It made Jenna’s skin prickle just to stand there; the woman was looking at her with an amused, narrow-eyed gaze that said all too clearly she had an agenda. As she moved closer, the feeling only intensified, until she was just inside Jenna’s personal bubble and the heat that went with that fact was almost palpable.

Jenna licked her lips unconsciously, shifted her weight and set the whiskey down on a nearby table; the thunk as it hit the wood was like a sudden drumbeat. “Not that I mind,” she went on dryly. “War is kind of my business.” Unlike tension-infused encounters with women who could kick my ass and have me say thank you... Her lips twitched in an involuntary grin.