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Shepard’s wrist itched. It had started after he’d been assigned to the Normandy, several hours after he first boarded the ship. The timing couldn’t have been worse, and he’d taken to wearing a black leather cuff on his left wrist almost right away. The cuff was a dead giveaway to what he was trying to hide; the mark – like a tattoo – that could show up on his skin at any time.
He rubbed his armored wrist against his thigh. The cuff couldn’t be worn with armor, and every time he took it off to kit up, he’d glance nervously down to see if his mark had appeared. So far, his wrist remained bare, but it hadn’t stopped itching.
It was just a matter of time before the mark showed up, and that was frankly terrifying. He’d already accepted his potential mate was likely someone on the Normandy, and if that wasn’t an extra kick in the teeth, he didn’t know what was.
Shepard had never felt particularly fond of the idea of a ‘soul mate’; someone pre-destined to be perfect for him. He wasn’t one to leave anything up to fate, for one, but the idea of being bonded to a stranger… well, he’d told himself a long time ago he’d cuff up the second his wrist started to tingle.
He just hadn’t expected that to be at the crux of the most important assignment of his life.
Granted, every single person on the Normandy could share the same mark as he did. Matching marks were only evidence of a potential mate; there were still a lot more factors in finding the right person that Quinn frankly did not understand. There were rumors and fairy tales passed down to kids about mates being able to scent out their partner’s moods, and even stories of telepathy between mates. Shepard didn’t think any of that was really true, and even if it was, he had no intention of finding out.
He’d always found it a bit ironic that he was born into worlds that put such a high value in finding a ‘soul mate’ or ‘fated partner’ when the idea of sex and romance had always been something that just wasn’t a priority to him.
In the end, cuffing up seemed the best solution. It was socially accepted, though it made people curious. Covering his wrist was a clear sign that he wasn’t actively looking for his mate by either hiding the mark that was already there or hiding one that could show up at any time.
He sighed, pulling up an interface on his omni-tool. The temperature in the non-climate-controlled room was dropping steadily, but the TCL in his hard suit was holding on, for now.
Fuck, he hated Noveria so far.
“Just hang on, Commander.” Williams’ voice crackled over the comm. “The controls are all frozen over and it’s going to take a bit to get Tali over here to hack into it.”
“How long is ‘a bit’?” Shepard replied, slumping back against a crate. He was locked in a room on a snowy planet, one his one tech experts locked inside with him and the other back on the Normandy.
“With this storm? Probably a couple hours.”
Shepard sighed. Outstanding.
“But hey, biotics run hot, right? So that should buy us a little more time. Just, flare up or something if you need to get warm.” Williams replied, a nervous laugh echoing through their communicators.
“You know that’s not how it works, right, Chief?” Kaidan put in, standing in front of the door, staring at the interface of his own omni-tool. The controls from the inside were beat all to hell, but Shepard had no illusions about the fact that he knew squat about tech, so if it made Kaidan feel better to fiddle with it, then more power to him.
“Shit. Fuck. This is-,” Williams stammered.
“No one’s fault.” Shepard finished for her, which was the truth. It had been a freak accident; he and Kaidan getting locked in this room with Williams outside. And even if it had been someone’s fault, he wasn’t going to mention it. That wasn’t helping matters.
At any rate, it was probably a good thing to have Williams on the outside. She could at least go for help.
“Take the Mako, meet Tali and get back here as soon as possible. Alenko and I will be fine.”
Williams made a wheezing noise in her throat.
“Chief, go. A stupid snowball planet isn’t going to take me down.”
Williams snorted. “Ok, sir. Just… keep in contact on the comm as long as you can.”
“The storm will probably knock them out sooner rather than later, Williams, but we’ll be fine. Worse comes to worse I’ll just light some of this useless tech on fire.” Kaidan put in, closing his omni-tool. Shepard spotted a small scowl on his face from behind his helmet.
Kaidan settled in next to Shepard, not close enough to touch. Not yet, anyway. The awkward parts came later, if the TCL in their hard suits failed and they were forced to resort to older but effective methods. The Mako roared to life from outside the room, the crunch of snow under its wheels growing more and more distant.
“Hopefully she doesn’t drive it off a cliff.” Kaidan observed, a small grin on his face.
Shepard snorted, looking away and rubbing his wrist against his armored leg. Damn thing was itching like crazy.
“She might actually be a worse driver than you, Shepard.”
Shepard turned to look at him, a retort on the tip of his tongue. Kaidan smirked at him, a sly little smile Shepard had never seen on the soft-spoken lieutenant. Shepard sniffed, turning back to the frozen over door. The olfactory sensors in his helmet picked up the scent of something sweet, almost sugary, which was god damn weird in a frozen room.
Kaidan squirmed around, reaching into one of the many pouches on his amor and pulling out two smooshed protein bars. He handed one to Shepard, who raised an eyebrow in question.
“Might as well eat it while it’s warm enough to.” He explained, shrugging.
Shepard huffed, plucking the bar from Kaidan’s hand and unlocking the seal on his helmet. The cold air hit him like a slap to the face, and he cursed.
“How did you grow up like this?”
Kaidan scoffed, smacking him playfully on the arm. The sugary sweet scent in the air spiked. “I grew up in Canada, sir, not a frozen wasteland.”
Shepard shrugged, tearing open the wrapper on his protein bar and taking a bite. It tasted like cardboard, but it was calories. “There’s a difference?”
He glanced over at Kaidan, who pulled his own helmet off in time for Shepard to see him roll his eyes. “Yes, there’s a difference.”
His hair was damp with sweat and mussed, curls sticking to his forehead. Funny, Quinn had never known he had curly hair. His skin was flushed pink, especially at the tip of his nose and ears and the tops of his cheekbones.
Quinn cleared his throat, turning away to concentrate on his excuse for lunch. They sat in companionable silence while they ate. Shepard had always been a little surprised how easy it was to be in Kaidan’s presence without having to fill the space with words. They could just exist, without the need to attempt small talk.
Not that they hadn’t done small talk. Hell, Shepard found himself engaging with Kaidan in small talk more than anyone else on the ship. With Tali, he felt like he was being talked to more often than not, and Garrus and Wrex would prefer to communicate in grunts and scowls more than actual words. But with Kaidan, he found he could just chat comfortably. It had been a long time since he’d had a friendship like that with a shipmate.
Not since Elysium, anyway. And he’d lost most of this friends that day.
Kaidan sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck near his amp.
“Migraine sneaking up?” Shepard asked. It was tell Kaidan had.
Kaidan hummed, nodding. “Not shocking. Over did it a bit today with the biotics.”
Shepard nodded in agreement. They both had, honestly. He was grateful for the tasteless lunch. He had begun to feel a little lightheaded.
“You got any meds on you?”
Kaidan produced a small injector from his suit. Shepard raised an eyebrow at him.
“Easiest and fastest way, at this point.” Kaidan explained. He began to remove the armor plates on his left arm until he reached the under kit that he could roll up. He pulled the top of the injector off with his teeth and tried to brace his arm to reach the vein, but the angle was awkward.
“Here,” Shepard offered, reaching for the injector with one hand and steadying Kaidan’s arm with the other. The haptic sensors in Quinn’s grieves gave the illusion of touch, the illusion that Kaidan’s skin was warm under his fingers and surprisingly soft.
He swore he could hear a quick intake of breath from Kaidan, before Shepard pierced his skin with the injector. The device hissed, and Quinn pulled it away when it was done. Kaidan exhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Quick working stuff.
Shepard withdraw his hand from Kaidan’s arm, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat. His wrist was itching something fierce, and it was all he could do not to rip his grieves off and take care of it. He reached for his helmet, catching a whiff of citrus.
What the hell?
He turned to Kaidan, expecting to see him pulling his under-kit back down and refastening his grieves. Instead, what he saw made his heart clench and his stomach flip over in his gut.
Kaidan was scratching at his wrist, a far off and confused expression on his face. The citrus smell, Quinn realized with not a small amount of shock, was Kaidan’s confusion. With a shaky exhale, Shepard sat back against the wall, fitting his helmet back over his head. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that a mark had just appeared on Kaidan’s wrist. Quinn didn’t bother to remove his own grieves to check, but he was also certain that his own wrist now bore an identical mark.
Well, crap.