#mshaeed

Choosing Anderson was the biggest mistake of his career. And now he's paying for it with no information, no support, and no way of knowing if he'll follow through and get a secure message to Kaidan. Or even to Ashley. To let them know from something instead of rumors and unfeeling intel.

Because he's sure as shit not risking anything with Kaidan. Not with that damn photo on his desk. Not with how secret and intimate and theirs that photo was.

And maybe that was the problem. He's fine with bringing Zaeed along in all this shit but not Kaidan. Priorities, huh. But Kaidan was the one with a picture in his cabin.

Not Zaeed. And he can leverage that.

And they never even gave him his omnitool back. Probably where they stole the damned photo from and they didn't even have the courtesy to give it back to him.

New armor. New fucking scarf. New body. Put back together with all his ink and piercings and scars too.

Stuck with old memories and a lingering feeling of dread and a burning throat every time he closed his eyes.

It was harder this time to go alone. Both Taylor and Lawson kept citing the "danger" of Omega as if he hasn't been many times as a civilian. Not that they seemed to know with the way they introduced the station to him. Do they not know about Vik? Shit. Vik has eyes and ears through the dancers they take of... but they are discreet.

Another piece of his life he wants far away from Cerberus.

They also act like he isn't an N7 who knows numerous ways to gut the both of them in front of their cowardly leader far away on his bullshit hologram.

He snorted a little to himself at that image. Lawson looked at him curiously, if a little like he was a bug under a microscope. Goto seemed a little more welcoming, if still cautious about Cerberus.

The question burned in his head with every dossier he read. Were they going to join for him or for Cerberus? He hated both answers.

But Zaeed. He was... Zaeed. The merc they met and fell in love with on am Omega shore leave gone wrong... Or right as Kaidan would call it, even though they parted before daring to breathe a single word of their feelings. Breathy moans and the feeling of gripped sheets was what they shared.

He would join for the job. The exorbitant hazard pay. The story that would come after.

And Regis could live with that.

When the airlock opened, he took a deep breath and adjusted the scarf around his neck. It felt like a vice.

He walked ahead at a fast pace without even looking to see if Lawson and Goto were following. It wasn't fair to Goto. It was the least Lawson deserved.

But his breath caught in his throat when he saw that yellow armor as he turned the corner. Pushing past the salarian and the batarian that tried to stop and talk to him.

Ain't nothing else like it.

He once said to them. Not long after their first fight together. Damn vorcha, he had said. Their blood and guts get fucking everywhere. And you two assholes are cleaning my shit up for fucking up my target.

It wasn't long after that they started fucking.

The batarian Zaeed was grabbing turned and tried to get away. He heard that snarling growl of Zaeed's. "What a fucking idiot."

The sharp sound of an Eagle shot pierced the air right as he stepped to almost hug the wall.

His gaze flicked over to him as Zaeed was holstering the gun. He always carried an Eagle. Even requisitioned one for Kaidan.

Zaeed didn't seem like a fan back in 2180.

But it was 2185 and he was brought back to life. Anything can fucking happen.

"You Shepard?" He asked, looking him up and down as he leaned against the bulkhead. No recognition. Except...

He traced a finger down his jawline. A symbol Kaidan and him taught Zaeed. Their symbol for getting ready for attacking with biotics. Usually to launch someone back or to pull some unlucky bastard forward for a well placed combo. Or a bullet to the brain.

He nodded as he heard footsteps behind him, catching up. Weapons holstering. Likely held back after the gunshot. This is why he worked alone.

Except with the SR-1 crew. Kaidan. Ashley. Tali. Wrex.

Tali knows he's alive. He's sure Kaidan and Ashley have heard. Wrex... Who knows where he ended up after heading back to his home world.

Zaeed sneered. "I ain't talking to you unless you're alone. My contract, my fucking terms."

Regis turned around and shook his head when Lawson opened her mouth. "This is why I wanted to handle all these bullshit dossiers on my own terms. Either I'll be back on the ship with another, or I won't."

She narrowed her eyes as Goto took the initiative to lead her away. But Goto seemed to wink at him before fully turning away.

Maybe he does have an ally with her.

He only stepped forward to meet Zaeed when he stopped hearing footsteps. Let his guard down briefly. Reached out with his hand. Taking a breath before--Zaeed grabbed his scarf and his hand before yanking him around and swapping places, pushing him up against the wall with a growl and that goddamn Eagle under his chin.

You two might be Alliance. You might be a goddamn N7. But you're not a fucking Terminus merc.

Later he would call them the best he's ever worked with, but that's beyond the point right now.

The expression on Zaeed's face was a pure snarl. But something behind his eyes lingered. Hope? Fear? He couldn't say.

Maybe didn't want to say.

"Zaeed, it's me--" He tried to speak, tried to reassure, but was quickly cut off by other shout.

"You shut the hell up before I do it for you." Zaeed's grip on him tightened.

Regis closed his eyes before opening them, rimmed with violet biotics. "You told me that first night you've never seen a human with purple fucking biotics." He managed to bite out between shortened breaths. Maybe saying a prayer to an Asari goddess he didn't believe in, but invoked Her name just like he did. Just like how Vik would worship each night at their Athame shrine. Healing and strength.

Protection and patience.

Knowledge and respect.

The grip on his neck wavered. The gun under his chin slowly removed.

Zaeed's lips were on his before he could even say another fucking word. Pushed up against a dirty Omega bulkhead after nearly blowing his brains out. Rough, chapped lips against smooth. Stubble against a beard. Gun oil and smoke against citrus and ozone.

He parted his lips and let Zaeed in. Let him tangle a gloved hand in his curls and moaned at the touch he craved since waking up on Cerberus's slab.

Kaidan's face and voice and promises echoed in the back of his head. But was this betrayal when they both wanted this, wanted more than two weeks of leave?

Zaeed pulled away after a nibble on his lips. A string of saliva connecting him for a brief moment before it was lost. Panting breaths and beating hearts settled between them.

"Get out of that fucking head of yours. We decided to start fucking after you--" Zaeed shook his head, swearing. Sounded like a batarian swear. But the fact that he couldn't even say it--

The absurdity of the situation caused him to let out a choked laugh. "So he did listen to my goddamn will."

Zaeed snorted, the tension in the air slowly deflating. "You have a lot to talk about. How the hell are you walking around like nothing happened for the last two goddamn years?"

Two goddamn years.

"I don't know."

That was the most vulnerable he's allowed himself to sound since all this started. Burning with no oxygen to in a burning lab.

But Zaeed clapped his shoulder and started pushing him back towards the docking arm from where he came.

"You have me to help you figure that shit out. But Cerberus owes me one last contract. I'll send you the details later. I have shit to transfer to your ship."

He smiled at him. Probably the first real smile he's had, too, since waking up. "There's always a catch."

Zaeed only smirked. "You should know that by now."