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He was kicking back at the bar when SAM pinged his omni. He’d been expecting a call back to the Tempest at some point. Later than he’d thought it’d be, but that’s shore leave with Ryder. Always giving them a little extra time. He clicked into the message.
Pathfinder Ryder requires some assistance. Please report to the Pathfinder’s Lounge in Operations to provide support when able.
Huh. Well, SAM would have mentioned if it was urgent, so Liam figured that she couldn’t have gotten herself into too much trouble. Then again, she’d been pretty shaken up after the Archon’s ship. He found himself pressing the key for “Operations” before he’d even realized that he’d walked to the tram.
She tended to get herself into trouble, but she wouldn’t start a fight outside Tann’s office, right? They’d gotten some push-back from the higher-ups, but she didn’t usually let that worry her too much. The quiet Salarian at the front desk buzzed him in and he climbed the steps to the Pathfinder’s Lounge two at a time until he reached the top and figured out what SAM had been talking about. Laughter bubbled up from his chest.
So that’s what SAM meant by support.
She was draped over the couch with a glass of something alcoholic, by his guess, slurring drunken encouragements at the other Pathfinders. They were all sauced, the lot of them. The new Asari Pathfinder pat the Salarian on the back so hard he coughed. He couldn’t make sense of what everyone was saying when they all talked at once like that, but whatever she said must have been damn inspirational, because they toasted again and Avitus pat her on the shoulder, cracking a smile that Liam hadn’t thought the Turian would be capable of.
Cressida leaned back on the couch and drained her glass before glancing over her shoulder at him. Her face broke into a wide, carefree grin.
“Liam!” She rested her chin on the back of the couch.
“Hey, Ryder.”
Retrieval. Got it.
She gestured him over and scrambled to make room for him to sit beside her. The Asari eyed him for a second, like she was trying to remember where she knew him from. The Salarian and Turian Pathfinders had gotten themselves deep into conversation, but they both kept losing the thread of what they were talking about and dissolving into giggles. He waved Cressida’s hands away, gently slid her glass from her fingers, and set it on the table.
“I think its bedtime.”
Cress snorted and looked up at the ceiling the way she always did when she talked to SAM. After a second, she nodded and muttered “alright, mom.”
She laughed at something before trying to get to her feet, wobbling the whole way. She made it around the couch before tripping, but he caught her and held her steady. He tried to loop an arm around her waist to hold her up, but Cressida was too short for that to be an option. She burst into hysterics when he hunched down low. Her mascara was smeared under her eyes, and whatever makeup it was that she usually wore had been wiped away, revealing a smattering of freckles across one cheek, over the shallow bridge of her nose, and across the other. A constellation of them. He brushed a curl of hair off her forehead.
“All you tall people think you’re all that! Ha! When you—when you—hold on.” She shook her head for a second. They had barely made it to the stairs, let alone down them and out into Ops. “When you. Geez. You tall person, you.”
“Yeah?”
“No. Not quite.” She wore a smile that made him feel warm from his toes to his nose. A little dazed, but genuine. Happy as a clam, that one. “I lost the thought.”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me when you remember, right?”
“Yessiree!” She hiccupped. “Sure will!”
Getting her down the atrium had him sweating. It was like trying to maneuver five feet and five inches worth of jelly down two flights of stairs. She wobbled on her feet no matter how he caught her and sure, she wasn’t all that heavy, but she managed to topple in surprising enough ways where catching her was a real trick. The receptionist at the desk refused to look up at them as they passed. Liam wasn’t sure how Salarian’s hid laughter at other people’s expense, but she was suspiciously intent on her monitor as Liam maneuvered Cress into Ops.
The atrium was almost empty. There were always people buzzing around, but with systems getting back on their feet, everyone was pulled in so many directions that there were times when the place looked like it was staffed by a skeleton crew.
Cressida made it two steps outside Tann’s office wing before tripping, nearly taking him out with her. Liam managed to catch her before her knees hit the floor, but she was giggling so hard he couldn’t keep her upright.
“I don’t think this is working, Cress.”
“Shh-hhhh! If you talk too loud, they’ll know I’m drrrrrrrunk!” She probably didn’t mean to yell that.
“Alright, alright. Hold still for just one second. One second babe. I’ll carry you.”
She laughed so hard she started crying—so hard her face scrunched up and she snorted. He tried to steer her behind him and keep her still for just long enough for him to crouch down. They got partway there, and then she planted her hands on his shoulders for support, tipping forward onto him. Close enough. He reached around and grabbed her legs before standing back up. Her arms locked around his neck on instinct. There. Better he carry her than drag her.
“Piggy back ride!” Her laughter hummed through her chest, against his back. She was small and dense, but not half as heavy without all her armor. He could definitely get her back to the Tempest. The tram might be tricky, but at least she was a cooperative drunk. Her arms wrapped snug around his neck, her cheek resting on his shoulder. He could feel the whisper of her breath on his throat as they walked.
“You’re so cute?” Her voice ticked up like it was a question.
“Yeah?”
“Mmhm.” She pat his cheek a little too hard, but it was probably meant to be sweet.
And he was probably grinning like an idiot.
The more they walked, the quieter she got until they stepped off the tram and he realized that she was almost definitely asleep. She was a warm lump clinging to his back, her breathing slow and steady as they crossed to the docks.
They were lucky it was the night cycle on the Tempest, and the bay was pretty much empty. Gil was up late toying with something or other, but nodded when they passed without even giving him shit. He snuck her through quarters, holding his breath until the door to her room slid safely shut behind them. Liam was just happy they hadn’t run into Drak. Old bastard would have given them (him, really) hell.
He set her on her bed and she didn’t so much as stir until he had already gotten halfway through unlacing her clunky boots.
“Liam?”
“The one and only.” He slid one of her boots off her foot and started on the other. When both her shoes were sitting beside her bed, he lifted up her legs so he could pull back the covers. With the most contented sigh, she wriggled into the mattress and let him tuck her in. He tugged the blanket up to her shoulders. When he leaned down to kiss her forehead, her arms sprung out from under the covers and pulled him in close.
“Good night?” He kept his voice low so as not to wake her up.
She pressed her lips to his throat and his heart stopped for a second. Half-asleep already, she hummed “mmhm.” Her fingers tangled in his hair. She turned her face and kissed his cheek, lips warm against his skin.
“Thanks, Liam.”
“Anytime, love.”