Her heart ached for the both of them—Kolyat with his false bravado, wrapping his anger around himself like security blanket, and Thane with his sad eyes and hesitant voice, so unsure and vulnerable. The red and blue of police lights lit up both of their faces—a connection in crime rather than family.

"They... They killed your mother to get at me." Thane's tone held a confessional note, and she realized that this was the first time he had ever told Kolyat why he had left.

Kolyat's face seemed to crumple. "What?" She imagined what he must have thought all these years—a burglary gone wrong, his mother in the wrong place at the wrong time, his father off killing for other people, but not there to kill for them, to protect them from a senseless act of violence. Suddenly what had seemed like mere chance took on terrifying meaning.

"I hunted them. Hurt them. Eventually I killed them." Grim satisfaction and sorrow flitted across Kolyat's face at his father's words.

"And when I came back to you," Thane continued. "...You were older. Your aunt had raised you well. You seemed happy. It seemed unfair to introduce pain into your life again." He chanced a look at his son, but dropped his eyes again.

Kolyat gave his father a look that suggested Thane was perhaps one of the densest minds in the galaxy. "Well, I guess it's lucky for me that you waited so long, huh?" He wielded sarcasm like a surgical blade, knowing exactly where to strike his father in order to hurt him the most, despite it being years since they last saw each other. Kolyat's desperation to make his father feel the pain he had experienced over such a long time laced every word, every inflection, every gesture. And she looked at Thane, hoping that he would finally let something... anything... through.

Thane's eyes grew impossibly wide, and she had the sense that he was holding back tears. "Kolyat, I have removed many bad things from the world. You're the only good thing I put in it."

Kolyat could not hold back his, and Shepard watched as Thane moved closer, murmuring words just beyond the edge of her hearing, touching his son's shoulder with a tender affection that made her feel as if she might add a few tears to the mix herself.

—-

I love how you wrote and played out that scene :)

A little happy time, chatting, Thane helps her with papaerwork. And then BAM! The Kolyat mission.

The battle calmed her, grounded her, and when Uvenk was, in Grunt's words, 'meat' left for the varren, she felt that the panic had completely receded. She grinned at her young protégé, both of them smeared with the blood earned from his rite, and felt as absurdly proud as if she were seeing her own child achieve such status within Urdnot. Grunt chattered about their battle like he had come back from his first day at school, and Shepard would often sneak sidelong glances at Thane, who couldn't seem to keep the small smile from teasing his lips.

Grunt had a lot to say about his experience, apparently, for even when they were in the shuttle, he couldn't stop talking about it. "It was amazing battlemaster—the way we showed Uvenk exactly where he could shove it," a low growl rumbled through his body. "I wish I had your memory, drell, so I could perfectly recall the look on his face before I destroyed him."

Thane cocked his head to one side. "You should have taken a holo. It would last longer."

Grunt clenched his hands into fists and pounded the armrests. "I know! That would have been perfect!"

Shepard laughed and shook her head. "Going to be a battlefield photographer, Grunt?"

"Only of my kills—and maybe some of yours if they're really impressive," he conceded, the krogan equivalent of being polite. "I could make a whole wall of them."

And then the conversation steered toward what sort of recording device he should get, badgering Thane for advice, who kept protesting that he had no clue—why would he need one?

—-

I love surrogate son Grunt.

And look at Thane, so comforting. :)

Thus, it was to her great disappointment that when she opened the door, Thane was already there, moving silently through some sort of kata. She got a brief burst of devious pleasure when he started and stumbled a bit at her entrance. Even the mighty assassin could be caught off guard.

"Commander, I... I did not expect anyone to be up this late." Thane had shed his usual skin tight clothing in favor of loose black cotton pants and a bare chest. His dark stripes were a startling contrast against his viridian skin.

"Same here." She started to turn to leave, but he took a step toward her.

"Please, we could share the room." He looked at her datapads. "I will be quiet while you read. I do not need such a large space to myself."

Shepard pursed her lips together and looked at the couch. "All right. Carry on."

He bowed slightly at her and turned to face the window again, moving silently through his exercises. Shepard folded her legs under her and flicked her datapads on, fully intending to read. But it was hard to do so when the drell moved so gracefully in a style she had never seen. She imagined it sped up and used on the battlefield. It was like water, fluid and organic, and she could see that using an opponent's joints against him seemed to be the basis of the movements. Use the enemy's momentum there, twist a shoulder here, kick at the knee and he was down, at the fighter's mercy.

She gave up on the datapad and set it aside completely. Thane's eyes were closed in concentration, light breathing and rustle of cloth the only noise in the room. Absorb the momentum, redirect it, convert the energy into your own. The stripes along his body were mesmerizing, the scales beautifully intricate, glinting and playing with the light. She felt as if the cobra were charming her.

—

Shirtless Thane late at night, yumm!

Yeah, thanks." She answered, and he turned back to get two cups out. "Do you cook much besides tea?"

He turned around to lean against the counter, the picture of leisure, arms folded loosely across his chest. "Irikah was the cook. It is, perhaps, stereotypical, but I have never learned to truly cook for myself. Or perhaps I just preferred it when she would make the meals. She was very good."

"My mom tried teaching me. I never had the time for it."

"You were as busy as a young girl as you are a woman?" His lips curled in amusement, and she wondered if he were trying to picture her as a child.

"Kids always think they have the luxury of time." She waved her hand dismissively. "It's only when we grow up that we realize that so many paths have been overgrown."

"Ah, too true. But you speak as if you could never learn to cook—it is still a skill you could possess."

"As could you." She grinned at him, and he blinked and hummed. Thane's voice was an enigma—she felt there was always more that she couldn't quite hear, that was just out of her range of hearing. She wondered what that hum would sound like to another drell.

The kettle began to whistle, and Thane turned to attend to it. "I have had the advantage of serving alongside you on several excursions now, Shepard. If I might say, you are not what one brings to mind when one thinks of a soldier. I thought that you would be—breaking into Nassana's office, guns blazing. But you are not."

Shepard felt she could say the same about him. "How do you mean?"

He set a cup before her and sat down across from her, leaning his elbows on the table—a common posture for him. "A soldier shoots first and asks questions later. A soldier relies on her weapon more than anything else. But you... you engage in dialogue. You offer second chances. You offer mercy."

"You can't have met too many soldiers if you think they're all like that." The tea smelled of forests.

"My apologies, I did not mean to offend." He laid his arms on the table, palms up, and Shepard wondered if that were some drell gesture of submission. "I merely intended on commending you for your reserve in judgment. I appreciate that you consider all avenues available to you before you decide on a course of action."

—-
I love his, opening up, being a little philosophical. Great writing.

The smell of evergreens pressed in on her. "Is that your drink?" He gave her a curious look. "The smell, I mean."

"The smell?" He sat the cup down on the table and pushed it toward her. "I am not certain. Is it?"

She took the mug in both hands, bringing it to her nose and inhaling deeply. "Yes." She let out a small sigh. "It smells like a forest."

"Indeed?" He rumbled, wide eyes suddenly half closed. What were all these expressions? What did they all mean? "Forests have many smells. Describe it to me."

How to describe a scent? "Well, you can smell it yourself, right?"

"I doubt our olfactory senses are the same. Tell me, Shepard."

"It's... pine trees. Hints of cedar." Her expression became hooded, countenance shadowed in a distant memory. "That sharp smell in the morning when the mists are still on the ground. It's like everything's waking up, stretching. You can smell the moisture, the cold, and it almost burns your lungs with the intense feeling of life. You can taste the scent—the bitterness that makes you want to recoil and the tangible shock of green that makes you want to bury yourself in a nest of boughs."

She blinked. His eyes were nearly closed, and again she felt rather than heard him—a distant murmur like hearing the sea but not seeing it. "Sorry. That probably made no sense." She pushed the mug back over to him.

His eyes opened wide. "On the contrary, Shepard, it made perfect sense." He took the mug up, cradled in both hands like a chalice, and inhaled deeply. "Thank you."

—-

Very nice scene there, the start of something good.

can we ... like hurry the fuck up and stop dragging this one like god.

Lovely! Amazing! More, please.

Great story. It is hard to find the longer stories featuring Thane, It was a pleasure to come across yours. I will definitely be reading it again. Great job.

I am both super excited, and really dreading the last chapter.

Noooo... I don't want it to end.

Great Chapter.

You really have a knack for building tension. I enjoyed this chapter a lot.

I loved the way this went. It was very natural, how they fell back into the thabit of speaking with one another. Brilliantly done.

great chapter, loved the Garrus conversation