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The firefight was almost over- Hell, Fiona was reluctant to even call it that. She’d pulled a few gas canisters together (and one sniper) and thrown them around the corner into the mass of idiots hiding behind a rock, blowing them to bits if their necks weren’t already broken. It was almost pitiful. Only the smart ones were left, keeping to cover and bolstering their shields to avoid Fiona’s biotics. It was one of those pains in her side that threw a grenade behind Jaal’s cover, snapping her focus sharply to the explosive sailing through the air towards her friend. An image flashed through her brain, losing him, losing what they’d begun to have. No- not happening.
“Jaal! Get down!” Fiona shouted, her voice piercing over the comms. She was already dashing over to tackle him, biotics boosting her speed, and the impact was enough to knock them a few feet away- still, Jaal waited for the impact of the grenade. Even at a distance, it was going to rip through his shields. He squeezed his eyes shut, wrapping his arms around Fiona’s waist as they hit the ground- he’d at least try to take some of the blast for her.
The explosion never came. In fact, there was nothing registering in his senses; no noise, no pain, not even a ringing in his ears. Was he dead? Jaal cracked his eyes open, half expecting nothingness. Instead, he was greeted with Fiona leaning over him, one hand by his head, the other splayed out towards the sky. The purple, shimmering sky. That wasn’t normal. The shimmer extended in a bubble around them, Fiona herself laced with the shifting light. It was her biotics, he realized, isolating them from the surrounding carnage. She looked down as he shifted, the barrier dissipating, and fixated her blue eyes on him with concern.
“Are you okay? Let me check you for injuries-“ Fiona began, her omni-tool flaring to life, ready to apply medigel. Jaal stared at her quietly as she tended to a slash on his leg, an earlier injury he’d been ignoring.
“Fiona.” He attempted to get her attention, listening passively to Drack destroying people in the distance. She wasn’t responding, and Jaal sat up, reaching out to put a hand on her arm. “Fi.”
“Huh? What, am I missing something? Are you hurt?” She put a hand on top of his, concern heavy in her voice. She couldn’t lose him, not to something like this.
Jaal wasn’t sure how to convey his gratefulness, nor the warmth that was welling in his heart at the sight of her. She was more beautiful in that moment than he’d ever thought possible, the last of her biotics shimmering across her skin and sweat on her brow, brown hair disheveled, a smudge of dirt across her red cheeks. “Not in the slightest. You saved my life. Come here.”
Jaal pulled on Fiona’s arm, shifting her into his lap as he pulled her into an embrace. Fiona squeaked, surprised, but not entirely protesting. It was awkward in their armor, but nothing mattered to Ryder as Jaal cradled her head, his pupils wide and holding steady with hers.
“Um?” Was all Fiona managed, her eyes flitting between his lips and his eyes. God, his eyes, they were looking at her like she was a star, and it made her heart fill with an almost terrifying mix of wanting and pure, unadulterated joy.
“May I kiss you?” Jaal asked, unsure. Fiona was visibly scared, but she hadn’t left, and she was starting to put her arms around his neck-
“Please,” she breathed, and that was all Jaal needed.
Their first kiss was gentle, gentler than Fiona was expecting. Jaal took time to brush his lips against hers, the tingling current of his bioelectric field flickering across the sensitive skin. It left Fiona breathless, and she gasped when he kissed her harder. This was what she was expecting, want and tension and curiosity bundled tightly behind their lips, his large hands holding her close, her deft fingers running across the ridges on the back of his head. The current was stronger now, nerves in her body firing off in ways she didn’t know they could. He was sweet to taste, something indescribably him, and when his tongue pressed against the seam of her lips, Fiona almost whimpered.
”Fiona,” Jaal murmured into their kiss, his rumbling voice sending a shudder down her spine. God, he sounded almost predatory, and it made heat pool in her stomach.
“Hey, you kids done with your nonsense yet?” Drack’s voice cut through the comms, gravelly and wholly cranky, “Because I’m bored.”
Fiona and Jaal pulled apart, embarrassed. The dark blue flush of Jaal’s cowl mirrored the redness of Fiona’s face, her cheeks burning under the bright sun.
“Uh, yeah, we’re good,” Fiona sputtered, rolling off of Jaal and standing. She noticed her knees shaking- shit, she had it bad. The angara stood, eyeing Fiona carefully, unsure of her reaction. She seemed concerned more than anything, which bothered him. “Let’s- um, let’s go back to the Tempest, since these raiders aren’t a threat to Prodromos anymore, okay?” Fiona ordered, her voice wavering. She needed some time to think about what just happened.
“Fiona, was that… not alright?” Jaal asked as they walked back to the Nomad, and Fiona snorted in surprise.
“That was fantastic. I just need to think about this for a little bit, okay? I promise, I’m more than pleased with what that-“ she waved her hands towards the battlefield in emphasis- “was.”
“I- alright. I believe time to think is a wise idea. I will find you later?” Jaal asked, and Fiona nodded. Their hands brushed together, and Jaal was reassured by the contact. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to think of anything else for the next few days.
Drack watched their exchange from a distance, amused. Love was a good, pure thing, and if it was making Fiona happy, it was good enough for him. Jaal was a good kid, the Krogan mused, and they were more than crazy about each other. Fuckin’ kids.
The roast in the oven smelled fantastic- enough so that Fiona had taken up shop in the galley. She was gently picking her guitar strings to pass the time, cradling the instrument gently in her lap. Music had been the one thing that kept their family together, Alec actually taking the time to teach both of his children how to play guitar for the first few months after their mother died. Then he became engrossed in himself, in his obsession with the Initiative, with SAM… They lost a parent all over again, no matter how many times Alec had insisted he was there if they needed.
‘Hollow words mean nothing,’ Fiona thought bitterly, but she shook herself out of the rut, strumming a heavy C chord and returning to thoughts of the food in the oven. Even if Drack had said no peeking, Fiona still couldn’t stay away from the mouthwatering scent of it; she’d even kept Peebee from stealing a bite, reluctantly.
“Pathfinder, Jaal is looking for you,” SAM pinged into her head, “And Mr. Vidal has located the sheet music you requested, on the condition that you come back to Kadara soon and play it over a bottle of scotch. He says he found a new rooftop you would like, as well. Shall I download the music onto your omni-tool?”
“Please do. And let Jaal know where I am, would you?” Fiona replied, left grinning by Reyes’ demands. She didn’t think she’d find so good a friend in Kadara of all places. And then there was Jaal- a small sprout of joy started in her heart. She always liked her conversations with Jaal, and since they started flirting… With the dearest one and the emails… and that kiss! They still hadn’t talked about it, and she’d been wanting more since they’d left Eos. His presence in her life was filling a need she didn’t know she had. It wasn’t long before the man in question meandered into the galley, his nose twitching as he focused on the oven.
“What is cooking?” The angara asked, leaning down to peer through the glass. Fiona took a generous stare at his behind as he bent over, idly plucking strings.
“You mean, like, the act of cooking itself or what’s in the oven?” Fiona teased, reaching one foot out to poke his rear end. Jaal jerked in surprise, turning around to shoot her a flat, unamused look.
“You know the answer to that,” he replied, humor tinging voice. Fiona giggled, drawing a smile onto Jaal’s face. “But I still do not know what’s in the oven.”
“Drack is cooking us a roast for dinner, and it’s got to be one of the best things I’ve smelled in weeks,” Fiona explained, and Jaal nodded, satisfied with her explanation. His attention then turned to the musical instrument in her arms, his interest piqued. The angara placed high value on music, and he had no idea Ryder was musically inclined.
“That is an interesting instrument. It looks similar to some of ours. Why are there so many strings?” Jaal asked as he pulled a chair opposite to Fiona, settling in comfortable. He gently rested his foot against hers and quirked a small smile, earning a grin from her.
“Well,” Fiona began, “Each string has a different tension, which is managed by tightening or loosening the tuners. Then when you strum the strings, the different harmonics produce different pitches. The body of the guitar is hollow, which amplifies the sound. This is an acoustic, but I have an electric guitar from my dad, and Scott has our bass guitars. But they’re in storage right now. We used to joke that we’d go around as a family and play for any new species we found in Heleus, but obvisouly…” She trailed off, lost in thought for a moment as she ran her hands along the polished maple-wood surface. “I suppose I could still do the same. Mind being my first audience?”
Jaal didn’t know how to respond; in angaran culture, live performances of music were very important affairs, and private demonstrations were considered almost intimate. Still, he could tell it meant a great deal to her, so he nodded. “I would be honored.”
Fiona shifted slightly- what to play? It was significant, the first song she performed in Heleus, at least for someone else. A peppy song wouldn’t do it, not given their situation, but maybe, maybe a classic. “Alright, sit still for a moment. I have to tune this.” She fiddled with her tuners, strumming with frustration for a few minutes as she tried to find the right sound. When she struck the right chord, though, she knew. With a soft sigh, she relaxed into her seat, and began to strum. When it came time for lyrics, Fiona didn’t know if she should sing- but the words were in her throat, welling up and bubbling to escape her lips.
“Come up to meet you, tell you I’m sorry, you don’t know how lovely you are,” she sang softly, the words coming naturally. It was one of her favorite songs, one she associated with her mother- It was the song that comforted her and Scott when Ellen died.
Jaal listened closely, the lyrics giving away more sadness than Fiona ever expressed. He knew she was hiding her feelings, but this… He saw tears in her eyes, but she didn’t waver; if anything, her voice grew stronger as the song went on. And by Zorai, her voice was something magical. It was soft and almost breathy, but clear and refreshing. Like a soft spring, he thought, and water after a parching day. And as she grew more confident, it rang through the small galley like a hymn. He was well and truly fascinated.
“Nobody said it was easy, nobody said it would be so hard,” Fiona breathed, the last of the lyrics trailing after she had finished playing. “I’m going back to the start.” She stilled, silence settling into the void left behind by her words. She wouldn’t look up from her guitar, a white knuckled grip on the fretboard, not trusting herself to meet Jaal’s gaze. She knew he was staring at her, trying to discern the flood of emotion she’d just poured at his feet.
“Fiona?”
“Yes?”
“Look at me, please.”
She raised her head, blinking away the tears in her eyes, swallowing the knot in her throat. Where she was expecting pity, Fiona only saw admiration. Jaal was watching her with gently reverent eyes and a smile, and as Fiona turned her head to the side in confusion, he bowed his head gently.
“Your voice has the grace of the yevara. I have never heard a vocal range that spreads so, it is wonderful. You are wonderful, darling one. Thank you for sharing that with me.” He reached out for Fiona’s hands, and she placed her guitar on the table to hold his. His fingers were larger than hers, firm but soft, and cool to the touch. She could feel a light current raising the hair on her skin, a soft shiver going up her arms as he ran his thumbs over the tops of her hands.
“Thank you for listening,” she replied softly, watching curiously as he took one of her hands and spread the fingers apart.
“Your fingers are small, but they are so deft. I was watching you play, it was intriguing. They all move so independently, and yet, there is no lack of purpose. And how eagerly they grab onto things,” he chuckled, recalling how her hands danced over his cowl when they kissed, and how even now she wrapped her hand around his. The skin to skin contact enticed Fiona, her emotions a jumbled mess, and she was struck by a desire to kiss him.
“It’s pretty useful,” she mused, her lips pursing into a smirk. She was planning something. “Good for getting a nice grip.” With those words she pulled herself forward, shifting into Jaal’s lap. He snorted in surprise, his chromatophores flushing blue in a blush, and stared at Fiona. She was looking up at him with a sly grin.
“What are you doing, dearest?” He asked, knowing full well that teasing her would elicit a rebuke.
Fiona whacked his arm softly- there’s the rebuke- and leaned in. “I’m gonna kiss you, silly. Unless, you don’t want to?” She was asking for more than just a kiss, he could see it in her eyes. She was asking for a yes or a no, a go ahead for their relationship, a culmination of their thoughts since Eos. Jaal wanted nothing more.
“Please. Why would I ever say no?” Jaal rumbled, and they kissed again. There was no sweat on her lips, no salt to tinge the taste of her. To Jaal, she tasted almost like water in its purest form. Even better, there were no chest plates, no awkward poking armor to keep them apart. Fiona clung tightly to him, her hands smoothing over the back of his rofjinn- it was softer than she expected it to be, almost plush. Jaal splayed his hands over her lower back, pulling her closer as they kissed. His tongue pushed against hers and drew little sighs from Fiona’s chest, stress falling from her shoulders the more they moved with each other. They were so engrossed in each other that neither of them noticed Drack and Vetra walking into the galley, stopping dead in their tracks.
“What the fuck?” Vetra sputtered, and Drack started cackling. Fiona froze, turning to look at her friends guiltily.
“Hi,” Fiona giggled, the hilarity of the situation masking her embarrassment.
“Hi, yourself. Spirits, get a room, would you?” Vetra countered, but she couldn’t hide the smile on her face, mandibles flared. It warmed her heart to see her friend happy.
“Ah, relax. Their just having fun, yeah?” Drack joked, smacking Vetra on the back. The turian elbowed him, and Jaal finally found his words.
“Drack, you’re here. I would like to know what exactly you’re roasting!” He still had Fiona on his lap, but that wasn’t a problem, as far as he was concerned.
“I’ll tell you if you get our boss off of you. Shouldn’t you be pathfinding, kid?” Drack chuckled, and Fiona sighed. He had a point.
“Alright, alright, I’m going to the bridge. You guys have fun in here, cooking and hopefully not slandering my name. You know how important professionalism in the work environment is!” Fiona piped up, standing. Jaal pulled her in for a last peck before she left, earning a disgusted sigh from Vetra. She grabbed her guitar and booked it out of the galley, leaving her crew mates to tease Jaal and prep dinner.