Chapter Text
For a spiky, nearly seven-foot tall woman, Vetra Nyx could be remarkably elusive. Fliss had been all over Podromos searching — and the next joker to make a crack about Pathfinding was going to be introduced to her pathfist — and hadn’t turned up so much as a talon print. It was only a nudge from SAM that had her taking the search back to the Tempest and her quarters.
Her apparently empty quarters.
Not as empty as they had been; there was plenty of evidence that Vetra had been there. She was still so skittish about ‘overstaying her welcome’ or however she’d put it when Fliss had coaxed the truth out of her, that it was nice to see signs she was finally making herself at home. A jacket draped over a chair, the little pile of fancy dextro ration wrappers on the table and — and a suspiciously Vetra-shaped lump under the bedcovers.
It was the pathetic groan it gave, when Fliss gave it an experimental prod, that alerted her to the notion that it might actually be Vetra.
A little closer examination revealed a familiar silver-grey fringe sticking out from under the blankets, and a low unhappy rumble emanating from somewhere in the middle of the lump. She hooked a finger under the blanket and pulled it up to peer underneath.
“Uh, Vee? Not that I’m complaining, not at all, but what are you doing?”
Vetra shot her a half-hearted glare before the blanket was firmly yanked back down and the definitely-Vetra lump culled into an even tighter ball.
“I’m dying,” was her muffled declaration from the depths. It was a somewhat alarming declaration to be sure, and Fliss’s eyebrows hit their highest extent.
“…okay? I’m gonna need some clarification here babe,”
When she got no answer, she tugged back the blanket again to get a better look at her apparently dying girlfriend.
No blood. No obvious injury. And the brief glimpse of a rude gesture and a thoroughly unhappy turian clutching a heatpack to her belly she got before the blanket was jerked back again was enough to set her mind at ease. Mostly.
“Can’t I just die in peace?”
“You’re awfully dramatic for someone on their last legs,” Fliss retorted. Satisfied that death wasn’t actually imminent, she rolled her eyes at the grumble of subharmonics and cast a suspicious eye at the wrappers by the bed.
“I think I just found the cause of death,” she quipped after a quick scan of the ingredients list confirmed her hunch. “I seem to recall you being hilariously allergic to these?”
The blankets shifted and Vetra peered suspiciously out at her.
“Who told you that?”
“Sid. I found a box of these I was gonna give you and she mentioned that it would be a bad idea. I see her point.”
That, apparently was all it took to get Vetra out of the blankets once and for all.
“That little varren!” she said indignantly. “I knew she was holding out on me! A whole box?”
“She very kindly offered to dispose of them for me,” Fliss said, laughing at the disgruntled noise Vetra made at that.
“You know what I could have traded for those?”
“A miserable night in the bathroom?” she snickered. “Don’t give me that look. I know how that ends,”
Vetra’s glower was impressive, but she didn’t try and argue the point.
“Can I get you anything, or shall I just let you die in peace?”
The glare turned sheepish, and she held out the heatpack.
“…it’s gone cold, could you — ?”
It still felt plenty warm to Fliss, but then, she didn’t have plates to dull the heat.
“…and some water? Please?” Vetra called after her, and Fliss waved.
When she returned, painfully-hot heatpack and water in hand, Vetra had vanished. Fliss shook her head, straightening the blankets and tucking the heatpack under them, wandering around and tidying while she waited.
She was halfway through sending a message to Addison when the door slid open and Vetra slunk back to the bed. She flopped down with a dramatic groan, curling back up against the warm and looked up at Fliss.
“Why don’t things you love love you back?” she whined, rolling onto her side when Fliss came to perch beside her.
“I love you. I love you back,”
“No you don’t. You think my pain is funny,”
Fliss giggled. “Only the dramatics, love,” she said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “And maybe the whole self-inflicted bit,”
“So mean,” Vetra grumbled, yanking up the blanket with a huff. “Mean.”
“How will I ever make it up to you?”
Vetra peered at her from under half-lowered lids.
“You could stay? Keep me company until I die?”
And then, because it was Vetra —
“I mean, if you’re not — if you haven’t got something important —”
“Get over,” Fliss said with a mock-martyred sigh. “Who am I to refuse the last request of a dying woman?”
She slid in beside her and smiled when Vetra immediately cuddled up to her, resting her head on her chest.
“Sorry for just inviting myself in here,” she said a few minutes later. “I just. You know. Proximity.”
“My close-to-the-bathroom, stupidly large room is your close-to-the-bathroom room,” Fliss said. “You know you’re always welcome,”
She rested a datapad against the top of Vetra’s head with the intention of finishing that email to Addison, but three words in and Vetra twisted around to stare at her reproachfully.
“Are you working? No working when your girlfriend is dying.”
“You know, for a doomed woman, you’re kind of bossy,” Fliss muttered, shutting down the file anyway and meeting her gaze. “Am I allowed to read instead?”
Vetra considered for a minute.
“Is it for work? No work reading. Only if you’re doing it for fun,”
“Fiiiine.”
They sat in contented silence for a few minutes before Vetra poked her again.
“What are you reading?” she asked, hitching her heatpack a little higher. Fliss blushed.
“It’s silly,” she said, setting it down again when Vetra looked up at her.
“Come on,”
“It’s an old kids book,” she admitted reluctantly. “There’s a whole series of them. Mom used to — Mom loved them. Read them to us when we were kids — “
She shrugged, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat.
“I don't know, I thought — I miss her. They feel like a little part of her or something,”
She stopped, embarrassed at herself, and Vetra gently poked her again.
“…Read it to me?” she asked, shifting to get comfortable again, mandibles flared in a wry grin as she added; “You know. Keep my mind of my imminent demise and all,”
Fliss snorted, but flicked back to find the beginning of the first book.
“We keeping this metaphor going all night?”
“…is it upsetting you?”
“It’s not,”
“Then yes. Yes we are,”
“God you’re a dork,” Fliss muttered, pressing another kiss to her girlfriend’s head. “You’re lucky I love you,”
She’s pretty sure Vetra just wanted to listen to the vibrations her voice made, rather than actually listen to the book. It was soothing, or so Vetra had claimed, when she’d been woken in the dead of the night by a turian snuggling close and asking her to talk, just to talk about anything. Either way, Fliss was happy to oblige.
“Remind me to get Liam to hunt down the first bunch of films they made,” she said idly, after a chapter or so. “Finn says they’re bad. Like, drinking game bad. Could be fun.”
Vetra made a sleepy hum of assent, and she grinned, unable to resist.
“I’m definitely in charge of snacks though,”
It was totally worth the indignant pinch.