Chapter Text
Castis Vakarian was having the worst run of luck with dating that he’d ever had. Not that he’d really tried it until recently, but from the way his fellow C-Sec detectives talked about their lives, this was exceptionally bad. His current date was just the latest in a long line of failures.
Dara had seemed nice enough as they exchanged messages on one of the dating sites that Solana set him up with. He’d never thought he’d go on a date with anyone that wasn’t turian, but the asari had been open about her trauma of losing her turian mate in the war. He hadn’t brought up the loss of his dear Lelwyn right before the war out of sensitivity to Dara’s obvious grief, but perhaps he should have. It might have given her space to open up knowing that he also still grieved.
This was supposed to be their second date, just a casual meet-up at a local café that specialized in various hot beverages with a few baked goods made fresh every morning. It catered to both levo and dextro, which meant it worked for both their physiologies.
They’d just sat down and she hadn’t even taken the first swallow of her drink before she started crying. He’d asked how her day was going, and she just burst into tears. Turians didn’t have tear ducts, but he’d lived on the Citadel for decades and had seen it happen many times in other species.
“I c-can’t,” she stammered and stood back up. He half-rose with her, ending up sort of crouched over the table as she turned away.
“Dara,” he called softly, but she didn’t look at him.
“I c-can’t get attached again. You’ll just go and d-die on me like he did,” she cried. Then she fled.
He sighed as he watched Dara run from the shop and flopped back down in his chair with no regard for his dignity. He should have realized that was coming, though he could wish she hadn’t done it quite so publicly. She almost bowled over a human woman and a salarian standing near the counter by the door waiting for their drinks. He wasn’t precisely embarrassed, but neither could he be pleased with the situation.
The human was closest to him, and she blinked down at him for a moment. “You okay?” she asked, running fingers through light hair streaked with gray to tuck it back over her ear. He was pretty sure the color was called blond, but it had been a while since he’d booked a human for anything at C-Sec and had to identify hair color. “That sounded like a pretty bad break-up. Lot of unpacked baggage there.”
It wasn’t any of her business, but she sounded genuinely concerned. If there was anything Castis had learned from his time spent with Jane, some humans could be incredibly compassionate. Garrus would extoll Jane’s virtues for hours if Castis let him, and that one was high on the list.
“This was only our second date, but I don’t think Dara is ready for another relationship so soon after the death of her mate,” he said, his subvocals shifting morosely. He should have realized that and never agreed to the dates with her. He wasn’t even sure that he was ready for himself; Solana was pushing him hard into this, and he hadn’t spent much time thinking about how he felt about it.
“You’re not upset?” the human asked curiously.
“No,” he said, “though I wish she’d at least tried some of her drink. Would you like it? It’s levo, so I can’t drink it. Some sort of asari tea. I’ll just throw it away if you don’t want it.”
The woman laughed, then shrugged and slid into the seat across from him. “Tea isn’t really my thing, but I could try it, I guess.”
He hadn’t specifically asked her to join him, but he supposed it was implied by asking if she wanted the drink. It was in a mug for consumption in the shop, not a disposable container for carrying away.
“My name is Castis,” he offered as she picked the mug up by the handle to take a sniff. He was about to add Vakarian out of habit but stopped himself. It eventually came out that almost every single woman he’d been on a date with – and several people he worked with – was trying to use him to get to his son, and he wasn’t about to give his real clan name to a random human woman he met in a coffee shop. “Ah, Castis Vyrnnus.”
“Hannah,” she offered back. “Hannah Smith.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Hannah,” he said, inclining his head.
She nodded back, not extending a hand to shake like most humans would. “Pleasure to meet you, too, Castis.”
Ah, she was familiar with basic turian social customs. That was better than most humans he’d met. He studied her closely, noting the folding in the skin at the edges of her blue eyes and corners of her mouth. He knew they were called wrinkles and generally indicated age, but the war had prematurely aged a lot of people, and he didn’t rely on it as an indicator of actual age. Jane had a set of her own from enduring pain while recovering from the injuries that nearly killed her. She’d only stopped walking with a cane a few months ago, finally adapting to the replacement leg.
Jane had shared with Castis that the Alliance wanted to prop her up as a heroic icon, an idea she found horrifying. She chose to resume Spectre duties because she wanted to work and the Council would let her, even if she wasn’t doing much active running and gunning yet. It was a very turian choice to make, and Castis appreciated her dedication to work and duty. Garrus had chosen his partner well.
Besides, it was far easier for Garrus to live on the Citadel than it would have been for him to live on Earth, and Castis knew his son would follow Jane wherever she went. Castis liked that he was in a place where Castis could regularly see both him and Solana. She was working at a turian medical clinic just a few blocks from his apartment, and he regularly met with them both. He’d missed enough of their lives, and he appreciated being in them now.
“So, what do you do, Castis?” she asked.
“I’m a detective in C-Sec,” he said, picking his own drink up to take another sip. “And you?”
“Former Alliance military,” she answered. “I retired after the war, but I can’t sit on my hands and do nothing, so I joined the diplomatic corps. My daughter lives on the Citadel, so my assignment here means I get to see her more than I would have if I’d stayed on Earth.”
“Ah,” Castis said, understanding that all too well. “My son and daughter also live here. It wasn’t the only motivation for me to return to C-Sec, but it was certainly a factor.”
“‘Return’ to C-Sec?” Hannah said, her voice lilting up to make it a question. Humans didn’t have expressive subvocals the way turians did, but he had enough experience with them over the last few decades to read the subtleties of their speech patterns.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “I’d retired to Palaven to care for my wife before the war, but I needed some way to contribute during the after. My wife, she had a…condition. She passed away just before the invasion.”
“Small mercies,” Hannah said softly, looking down at the mug.
“I’ve always thought so, yes,” he agreed. “She didn’t have to see our home burning. Friends turned into…”
He trailed off uncertainly. This had turned into a serious conversation quite fast. With billions dead and the galactic infrastructure in ruins after the war, any get-to-know-you conversation had a tendency to do that. Things were a lot better now, but everyone had trauma in their past.
“I lost my husband in a radiation accident a few years before the war,” Hannah said, her voice still low. “The last few months of his life were terribly painful for him, and it was almost a relief when he passed.”
“A relief, yes,” Castis said. The last few months of Lelwyn’s life with Corpalis had been brutal. He shied away from the memories and refocused on the human in front of him. “It’s rare to find someone who understands that. My attempts at using these dating sites my daughter set me up with have not been going well.”
Hannah smiled in a way that reminded Castis of Jane with one corner of her mouth pulled up higher than the other. “Maybe you should try to just meet people naturally.”
“I just met you naturally,” he pointed out.
“Yes, you did,” she agreed thoughtfully.
The quarian working behind the shop’s counter called out her name, and she shook her head as she broke their gaze. “Excuse me for a moment.”
She retrieved a cup of something from the counter and brought it back to the table. She pried the lid off, releasing steam into the air as she brought it to her nose for a quick sniff. He recognized the scent as coffee immediately.
“How do you take your coffee?” he asked politely as she settled back down. No need to go full emotional exposure again so soon. With how appreciatively she inhaled the sharp aroma, he wasn’t surprised that she’d barely touched the asari tea.
“Dark roast with cream,” she said. “You know about coffee?”
“My son’s partner is a human,” he said. “He enjoys your coffee more than turian kaf. I have more a sensitivity to levo food than he does, though, so I’ve never tried it.”
“Oh!” she said, surprise coloring her tone. “My daughter is with a turian! Must be more turian-human partners out there than I thought.”
“We did fight quite closely during the war,” he said. He ran a finger around the rim of his own cup. “I’d like to think it erased a lot of bad feelings left over from the Relay 314 Incident.”
“I was a lieutenant in the fleet that liberated Shanxi,” she said, her eyes resting on him in a penetrating way.
Oh, her wrinkles weren’t premature: she was old enough to have served in the shooting conflict between their species. He braced for a quick end to the conversation. Not everyone was as amiable and forgiving as his old friend Alec had been. He wondered briefly how the Andromeda Initiative was doing. Alec would have been in cryo for years at this point, but it would still be centuries before his fleet arrived at its destination.
“And I assure you, it absolutely did,” Hannah continued, nodding firmly. “Turians were the first to commit to help us liberate Earth. To fight as a unified force. The First Contact War is a distant memory, even for most of us that were there, but we aren’t likely to forget our Reaper War alliance any time soon.”
“Oh, good,” he said. “That’s…good.”
“I know turians have mandatory service,” she said. “Were you on the other side in the First Contact War?”
She seemed pleasantly curious, not hostile or prodding. “No, I was in my second year at C-Sec when the incident happened. My son had just been born, so I had bigger things to worry about than a new species.”
Hannah laughed. “My daughter was almost three, so I know the feeling. Rory – that’s my husband that passed away – had to stay with her when I shipped out. Despite how good he was with her, I think he would have preferred the assignment to the fleet over being stuck groundside on Earth. She was a terror at that age. Aside from our careers and only wanting one to begin with, there was good reason we weren’t tempted to have any more children. I love her dearly, but one of her is enough for the galaxy.”
“Lelwyn was always so patient with our children,” he said fondly. The presence of her dead husband in the conversation could have been awkward, but her ease with it made him feel comfortable speaking of his wife the same way. “The teething phase was the worst for me with all the biting, but they never seemed to bite her. I used to go into work with tiny pinpricks all over my hide under my armor and gloves.”
“At least humans don’t have to worry about that with their children!” Hannah said, raising her cup of coffee up. “Well, my daughter did bite that one boy at daycare, but he hit her first. Even though it was on video, they made me pick her up early that day. I took her out for ice cream.”
“Rewarding good behavior,” Castis said, his subvocals approving. “Bullies should never be tolerated.”
She tilted her head back and appraised him. “A turian working at C-Sec, and you approve of extrajudicial justice?”
He snorted and took a sip of his kaf before answering. “In my younger, more rigid days, I might have not approved. But I’ve learned the galaxy doesn’t always follow the rules, and sometimes you have to take a little justice for yourself.”
“Ah,” she said, her vocal inflection one of understanding. “Sounds like there’s a story in there.”
Castis had a momentary flashback to their transport escaping Palaven. Solana’s face as that arrogant jumped-up shuttle pilot insisted she provide another form of “payment” to get them both off their burning homeworld. The young man that had appeared and yanked the pilot away, shoving him into the cockpit and gesturing them onboard before aiming his rifle out the door to survey for more survivors. There were none.
“A story for another time, perhaps,” he said reluctantly. There had already been enough emotional revelations in this random encounter that he was uncomfortable at adding another one.
“Hmm, another time,” she said, propping her chin in one hand with her elbow on the table. “Over dinner maybe?”
Castis blinked, his subvocals rumbling in surprise. “Are you…asking me out on a date?” he asked.
“I told you that meeting people naturally was something you should try,” she admonished, one eyebrow going up as she looked at him over her cup. A small smile lurked behind the rim before she took another sip. “This is about as natural as it gets.”
“Hmm,” he said, his thoughts twisting harder than his subvocals.
Castis hadn’t ever considered a human; Dara had been the first non-turian he’d ever attempted to date. That had obviously gone poorly, but that didn’t mean it always would. Garrus never said much about the intimacies of his relationship with Jane, and Castis would throw himself off the Council Tower in the Presidium before asking. But they made the relationship work without any obvious problems; Castis didn’t think he’d ever seen a couple that understood each other better.
“Well, if my son can make a serious relationship work with a human, I can at least give a date a try,” he said. He didn’t mention that his son and his partner were two of the most extraordinary individuals he’d ever met – spirits, he was so proud of the man his son had become! – because Hannah didn’t need to know who they were. That was the whole point of the subterfuge with his name.
“I keep expecting my daughter to tell me any day ‘hey, Mom, we got married,’” she laughed. “She and her turian are so devoted to one another that it would make me throw up if it were anyone but her. He’s a nice young man, too. I already consider him my son-in-law.”
“Just as I would consider my son’s partner as a daughter of my clan,” Castis said, nodding his head in approval. “Their bond may not be formal, but it’s already unbreakable.”
“Then let’s follow our children’s examples!” she said. “Get dinner with me?”
“I would be happy to have dinner with you,” he agreed. He was only a little surprised that it was an enthusiastic agreement.
“You’ll have to decide on the place, though,” she said.
Castis mentally flipped through all the places he’d been with Solana, Garrus, and Jane before settling on one they’d been to a few times in Tayseri Ward. Yes, that one should do nicely. He pulled it up on his omnitool and was able to access their reservation system immediately.
“There is a place in Tayseri that would be excellent. What time works for you?” he asked.
“Tonight?” she asked. “Mmm, I have to go into work for a few hours today – that’s where I’m headed right now – but I should be available after six.”
“Shall we say six-thirty, then?” he offered.
“Sounds good to me,” she said, smiling at him. He gave her the name and address of the restaurant and watched as she reattached the lid of her cup. She stood to go, her smile not leaving her face as she bid him goodbye.
Castis knew he was not a very emotional man, but he found himself strangely eager for six-thirty to come.
----<>----
Castis arrived ten minutes early to find her already waiting.
“Military habits mean I’m usually early everywhere,” she explained when he apologized, “and I haven’t been to this part of the station, so I wanted to allow extra time in case I got lost.”
“Very considerate of you,” he said. It was damn near turian of her; he’d only arrived this late because he’d thought he would arrive first and didn’t want to tell her he’d been waiting very long.
Instead, he found himself being the one to say, “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” as he gestured her into the restaurant in front of him. To have her arrive earlier than he did was an embarrassing reversal to the anticipated situation.
The restaurant was a subdued place he considered appropriate for a date: the lighting was not so low as to make seeing the faces of your companions difficult, but not so bright as to degrade the intimacy. The whole place was set on a gentle curve, the room seeming deeper than it truly was. A half wall divided the space with booths provided discrete privacy lining the full wall with tables lining the half wall for more open seating.
The colors of the place were mostly neutral, but scalloped pendant lights dangled from the ceiling in a variety of shades of colored glass, the light shining through to the ceiling in a muted rainbow of colors. It provided a warming glow to what could otherwise slip into the same sterile atmosphere of a lot of places on the Citadel.
“Not at all,” she assured him. “Ten minutes at the most, and I would rather be early and wait for an hour than be late and leave you the one waiting.”
He felt a warm flush in his chest at her words. Yes, that was very turian of her. The warmth told him he liked it probably more than was wise.
“This place is lovely!” she continued brightly. “I haven’t been out to many places on the Citadel yet, although my daughter and son-in-law have taken me to a couple interesting places.”
They arrived at the check-in stand and he made a mental note to ask about the details of that statement after they sat down. When he first started dating, he’d carefully curated a list of discussion topics that should get him to know his potential partner better, but Hannah had encouraged spontaneity at the shop earlier when they’d met, so he thought she would appreciate it if he let the conversation grow organically. He could save his list for later in case their conversation floundered.
The salarian working at the reception stand escorted them to their table: one of the booths that Castis had reserved specifically for a more private conversation. They settled into their seats across from each other, and he noted that they had the appropriate dining ware for their species, his slightly larger than hers. Excellent. The salarian host put two different menus in front of each of them – his colored blue, hers colored red – and departed with a quiet murmur of, “Your server will be with you shortly.”
“So,” he said conversationally, “it sounds like you’re a recent arrival to the Citadel?”
“Yes, I am,” she confirmed, picking up the menu in front of her. “Recent military retiree, recent member of the diplomatic corps, recent arrival to the Citadel. And you?”
“I worked in C-Sec for almost three decades before retiring the first time,” he said. “I moved back and rejoined the force about two years ago once the station had been rebuilt enough to support a population of any size.”
The Citadel had suffered mightily in the final stroke of the war. Jane didn’t exactly remember what she’d done after she’d gotten to the Crucible, but the subsequent explosions had nearly torn the station apart. The Council had almost decided to abandon the place in Earth orbit and let the humans tear it apart for scrap metal, but the quarians had managed to reactivate a significant portion of the geth consciousness – some special project of one of Garrus and Jane’s friends – and they had been a huge help in both rebuilding and moving the station out of Earth orbit and back to the Serpent Nebula.
Castis supposed it could have been left in place over Earth, but that had far too much potential to give humanity an outsized influence in galactic politics. Humans and turians may be closely allied, but he knew Councilor Sparatus and Primarch Victus were far too smart to allow them that. Nor did the Systems Alliance particularly seem to want the station to remain in their home system. Jane had explained it as like having family living in your backyard; you liked them being close, but you wanted your own space.
“And you said you’re a detective?” Hannah asked.
“Yes, though I don’t actively work cases any longer,” Castis replied, opening his own menu to leaf through it. “I run the program to select and train detective candidates.”
“Is it just administrative work, or do you actively teach?” she asked.
“A whole lot of the former and not nearly as much as the later as I would like,” he sighed.
“Teaching does tend to turn into a lot of administrative work, I’m afraid,” Hannah said with a small laugh. “One of my assignments in the military was teaching at the Alliance Naval Academy on Earth. Three of the most rewarding years of my career, but also three of the most frustrating. It was nice to be with my family, though. Rory was also stationed there as well, except he was in charge of special programs and not teaching. But it let our daughter go to the same school for a few years.”
“And now you’re a diplomat,” he noted. “What does your daughter do?”
She shifted in her chair, her eyes dropping down to her menu, and didn’t immediately answer. He wondered if he’d said something wrong by asking about her daughter. He’d thought that was supposed to be a normal part of getting to know someone, but he supposed he wouldn’t want to answer too many questions about Garrus and Solana either on a first date. Not until he knew he could trust the person.
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me anything about your daughter,” he offered. She glanced back up and gave him a decidedly thin smile.
“Yes, if we could keep kids off-limits for a bit, I’d appreciate it,” she acknowledged. “If we’re still seeing each other in a couple months, maybe then. I’m…a little protective.”
“Not a problem,” Castis agreed happily. “I’m a little protective of mine, too.”
Actually, this was perfect. It was a good excuse not to explain who his son was and what he did. What he had done. Most of his dating disasters were because the woman was only interested in Castis’ connections with famous and important people, and it was incredibly frustrating. Dara had been the first one that seemed interested in just him, and that had ended spectacularly badly this morning. Though Hannah had introduced herself as a result, so maybe it wasn’t all that bad.
“Goddamn Reapers…” Hannah said, her face in her menu again. It was so low that Castis wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear it, so he let it pass. Though most people cursed the war in general and not the Reapers in particular, and he wasn’t likely to forget it. It resonated for him in a way that was familiar.
“May I ask about your job in the diplomatic corps?” he asked. “I’ve never been much for diplomacy myself. I’m a little too straightforward and honest with things.”
“Are you implying we lie?” Hannah asked with a laugh, her eyes meeting his again. Oh, dear, he hadn’t meant to imply that. He just had far too much experience with politicians like Councilor Sparatus and Primarch Fedorian for comfort.
At least Adrien Victus was all right; he was a little too blunt to be a very good politician, but Castis liked him for it, and so did most Palaveni citizens and the entire Hierarchy military. Garrus called him “the best primarch of the last thousand years,” Jane pronounced him “a good man,” and both of them would drop just about anything to help if he called.
She seemed amused, so maybe it was best to be honest. As he’d just said, it was what he favored anyway. “I don’t know that I’d call it lying, but politicians and diplomats are always bending the truth. It’s your job. I don’t judge you for it – you’re here to advance your species’ interest, and that’s one of the best ways to do it – but it’s not for me.”
“Good thing I make it a policy to be truthful,” Hannah said, her voice teasing. “Otherwise, this probably wouldn’t work out. Know a lot of politicians, Castis?”
“A few more than I’d like,” he admitted. Vyrnnus, the false name he’d given her, was an adjacent clan to his own legitimate clan of Vakarian; he could get away with knowing a few politicians. “I grew up in Cipritine, the turian capital on Palaven.”
“Yes, I’d assumed as much by the color of your colony markings,” she said. “Cipritine blue is quite distinctive.”
He felt a little quake in his gizzard that he had to quickly suppress. She knew about colony markings! This date was getting better and better.
“I hadn’t thought that a human would know about a turian’s facial markings,” he said, sternly controlling the stammer that threatened his tongue.
She seemed amused by his reaction. “I told you my daughter has a turian partner. I made the effort to learn at least the basics for him. And besides, the ADC is pretty good about training its new employees, even when they start a little higher up.”
“‘ADC?’” he repeated in query.
“Alliance Diplomatic Corps,” she explained. “Because of my military career, they didn’t start me at the lowest level. I’m a direct liaison on several projects with the Hierarchy. I know quite a bit more about turians than the average human.”
Their server, a friendly asari with white lines twining up over her head appendages, interrupted the conversation at that point to introduce herself – “Ilyena!” – and offer the evening chef’s specials. He ordered the dextro chef’s course and accompanying suggested wine selections and was happy when Hannah followed suit with the levo versions.
The conversation flowed smoothly into little humorous work anecdotes. He traded a story about a particularly unqualified but very determined detective candidate for one about an executive assistant in her office that just couldn’t seem to get the filing system down. Glasses of wine and plates of food appeared, were consumed, and disappeared. He never needed to consult his reserve list of conversation topics.
The evening passed so pleasantly that Castis was surprised when the bill arrived. He snatched it before she managed to, and they had their only disagreement of the night when he wanted to pay.
“I invited you out, so I should pay,” she protested.
“But I selected the establishment, so I should pay,” he insisted.
She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before throwing her hands up in the air and saying, “Fine! But the next dinner is on me.”
“Done,” Castis agreed, which was how he found himself agreeing to a second date with her two days later.
----<>----
Two dates turned into six before he’d realized it, and he was starting to think that maybe he should invite her back to his place one evening. The thought made him strangely nervous; he hadn’t slept with anyone except Lelwyn since he was a teenager, much less someone of another species. The extranet was no help – spirits, so much unwatchable pornography these days! And half of the turian/human vids were imitating Jane and Garrus, an unfortunate fact he discovered when he got desperate enough to watch one. He shut it off after a minute when he realized what it was, which was thankfully quick enough to not see much of anything indecent.
He was getting anxious to the point where he thought he might have to swallow his aversion and consult with the only two experts he knew on turian-human intimacy.
“Are you sure you want me to disable your profile, Dad?” Solana asked, her voice interrupting his silent musing. They were out for lunch at the small Palaveni restaurant close to her clinic. Its position outside a medical facility that catered to turians was a smart place for the business, and he usually met up with her at least once a week there.
“What? Ah, yes, on the dating sites,” Castis said, glancing down at his plate. The stewed meat was the same Cipritine recipe his mother made when he was growing up, and he always enjoyed the smokey-sweet flavor of it. “Yes, I would like you to disable my profiles.”
“Dad,” Solana sighed as she poked at her own meal with a fork, “I think it’s too early for you to give up on this. I want to see you happy. You know Mom would want that, too.”
“Oh!” Castis said, startled. He realized he had neglected to tell her why he wanted her to turn them off. “No, I haven’t given up. I met someone. That’s why I don’t want to get any other matches with candidates.”
Solana eyed him, her subvocals rolling with suspicion. “And that’s that, then? How many dates have you been on with them?”
“Six,” Castis told her. “And I didn’t even meet her on one of these ridiculous sites. I met her by chance in that café that has the steamed karel that you like.”
The meat pastries had been Solana’s favorite ever since she was a small child, and Castis remembered with fond indulgence the times he used to sneak them to her when Lelwyn was convinced it would ruin her appetite for dinner. Solana never told on him, even in her childhood tendency to ramble.
Solana didn’t look impressed in the slightest, though. “You’ve been on six dates with this woman, and you haven’t mentioned it before now? You proposed to Mom after four.”
Castis sighed. Solana – and Garrus, when the closeted romantic wasn’t being so performatively juvenile turian about hating the idea of love – adored hearing the story of how he and Lelwyn had fallen in love and bonded. But the situation there had been a little different.
“She’s human,” Castis said reluctantly. “And they go much slower in relationships. Look at your brother. He’s been with Jane for how many years now? Four? Five? And they still aren’t bonded! Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I won’t complain, even if a man might feel the desire for grandchildren from time to time.”
He’d thought that the dig about him wanting grandchildren would catch her attention, but he was very wrong.
“You’re going on dates with a human?” Solana asked, her subvocals echoing the shocked, abrupt slackness to her mandibles.
“Why shouldn’t I be dating a human? Garrus doesn’t have a monopoly on it or anything,” Castis protested. “She’s very nice. Not pushy at all. And she was widowed before the war, so she understands…well, everything with your mother.”
Solana actually rolled her eyes, a gesture Castis knew full-well she’d picked up from her de facto sister-in-law. “‘Very nice.’ ‘Not pushy.’ Such enthusiastic endorsements, Dad! And I didn’t say you were dating. I said you were going on dates. Spirits, you’re already head over spurs for this woman, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” he said defensively. Hannah made him comfortable in a way he wasn’t quite prepared to explain to either of his children.
“As if I’d expect anything else from you,” Solana snorted, stabbing at her food now.
“I don’t think you understand what the dating scene is like, Solana,” Castis said, feeling the heat in his subvocals.
“Ha! Do you think I’m not trying to find someone for myself?” Solana said, her disbelief obvious.
“I meant for someone my age, Sol!” Castis said, his voice louder than he’d intended. Even Garrus’ affectionate nickname for his little sister didn’t distract her.
“She just better not be using you to get to Jane and Garrus,” she said fiercely.
Jane, as naturally charismatic as she was, had charmed Solana within five minutes of meeting her. It helped that while she loved her brother, she’d always begged her parents for a sister. Lelwyn had discovered her Corpalis when they’d been considering having a third child, and the genetic component of the condition made the decision not to have any more children a painful but quick choice. They hadn’t told Solana until she was much older why she never became a big sister.
“I haven’t told her my real name. She thinks my clan name is Vyrnnus,” Castis told her. “She has no idea whose father I am.”
Solana rolled her eyes again. “Great way to start a relationship, Dad. By lying.”
“Most of the first few women clearly just agreed to meet me because of my name,” Castis said. “Hannah seems to like me for me. Unless she already knew who I was and is playing some long game, I think she’ll be understanding when I tell her who I actually am and why I lied about it.”
“Even if she does, she’s always going to wonder how much of who she likes is a lie,” Solana said. Then she spoiled her protest by looking down and muttering, “Maybe I should try it.”
Castis studied his youngest, compassion thrumming in his subvocals. However difficult it was to be Garrus’ father, he was sure it was much more difficult to be the little sister of the second-most famous Spectre in the galaxy, a fact made infinitely worse when you realized that the most famous one was essentially her sister.
“Has it been that bad, Solana?” he asked gently. She’d made a couple comments to Garrus about people using her to try to date him that Castis had thought were just teasing between siblings, but it sounded like she’d been covering her hurt by making a joke of the truth.
“Yes. No.” Solana sighed. “I don’t know. I’m about ready to move to some tiny colony that never heard of the Reapers and the Spectre duo that saved the galaxy, never mind that Garrus wasn’t even a Spectre then. The last guy at least made it obvious on the first date he was angling to meet them, but the worst was the one who waited three whole weeks before making a play to be introduced. I hadn’t even mentioned Garrus by name!”
Castis winced in sympathy; his experience wasn’t dissimilar. The vague excitement that someone was interested. The growing interest in return. Time invested. Effort. All ruined by personal proximity to fame and people seeking to get close to it.
It was depressing to only been seen for who you knew, not who you were.
“Maybe you could ask Garrus and Jane to set you up with one of their friends,” he offered. “That way you’d know for sure they weren’t using you to get to them.”
Solana laughed and seemed to genuinely consider the ridiculous suggestion. “You know, that’s legitimately not a bad idea. It’s a pretty limited dating pool, but at least I’d know where I stood. And their friend group is made up of some of the most impressive people I’ve ever met. Too bad you can’t use the same solution; they’re all a bit young for you.”
“I think I’ll be satisfied if this works out with Hannah,” he chuckled.
“If it doesn’t, you could always ask to be set up with their parents,” Solana teased. “Since you seem to be fine with humans, Jane tells me her mother is a widow. Both her parents were Alliance military, so I assume he died in the war.”
Castis suppressed a shudder at the thought. “Spirits, Jane might actually kill me if I suggested that one, Solana. And I haven’t ever met the woman, but the woman who raised Jane must be tougher than hundred-year-old horlack jerky.”
“I’m supposed to have lunch with them both next week, so I’ll let you know,” Solana said.
Castis had to suppress a small surge of jealousy. “Wait, Jane is introducing you to her mother before me? I’m her mate’s father!”
Solana snorted at him, but her subvocals were amused. “They aren’t mates yet, Dad. And Jane thinks I could use a motherly influence in my life. Someone to talk to that isn’t her.”
Castis let the dissatisfied grumbling continue in his subvocals. “I didn’t even know she was visiting the Citadel.”
“Just moved here, apparently,” Solana said. “Jane is excited that they’ll be able to spend more time together.”
“Well, I still think I deserve an introduction,” Castis complained. Spirits, the two of them were never going to make it a legally contracted relationship. “And I do want grandchildren, damn it. Turian, human, I don’t care! I’ll even take an adopted krogan at this point, since Garrus won’t stop making the joke. I’m starting to think he’s being serious.”
“Maybe I’ll just skip the partner and have kids on my own,” Solana said, her bitter subvocals underscoring the gravity of her words. Castis shifted uncomfortably in his seat; he’d offended her.
“I’m not trying to pressure you, Solana,” he said, knowing he was communicating more of his discomfort than he wanted. She shook her head at him.
“I know you’re not, Dad,” she sighed. “And I want kids. Not to make you happy, but for me. It just doesn’t seem possible the traditional way right now. Not when I can’t seem to meet anyone that doesn’t just want to use me to get close to them. I love them both, but it’s…exhausting.”
“Their fame will fade, Solana,” he said. “Maybe enough for all of us to live a normal life one day where we don’t have to lie to potential partners about who we are.”
“Not likely, Dad,” she said, her frustration ringing in a way that made his gizzard ache in sympathy. “They saved every person in the galaxy; it’ll have to pass from living memory, and we’ll all be dead by the time that happens.”
Solana refocused on her food. Castis realized the remnants of both their meals had long since gone cold on the table in front of them. With the weight of the conversation, he’d forgotten all about it. He almost spit out the bite he quickly took, the vivid flavors of the seasoning spoiled by the chill.
Not for the first – or even the hundredth time – he wished Lelwyn was still here. Garrus had been their moody child, and she’d always handled him so well, her delicate touch and understanding giving him the space to grow into who he needed to be. Now that Solana seemed poised to take over the role, Castis had no idea what to say to make her feel better. Should he even be trying to make her feel better? Maybe Jane had the right idea about introducing Solana to her mother; he suspected a human stranger could hardly do worse than he was doing.
He also couldn’t help but wonder when it would be the right time to introduce her to Hannah. Her warmth and gentle understanding would probably do a galaxy of good for Solana.
Solana broke the awkward silence with another sigh. “Don’t worry, Dad. You should be getting a dinner invitation for Friday any time now. You’ll meet Jane’s mom before I will.”
The surprise took over his subvocals before he could control it.
“You think Garrus would have it any other way?” Solana asked, her own subvocals oozing in affectionate amusement. “He may have spent most of his life trying very hard to not be you, but he does his duty when it matters. This matters to him.”
Castis let the silence hang for a moment as he digested her words. Garrus had always seen things too starkly for his personal tastes; it was why Castis had been so concerned with him entering the Spectre training program with the Hierarchy almost a decade ago and talked him out of it. The Garrus of then would have committed murder in the name of black and white justice. The Garrus of now could see shades of gray, and Castis had no illusions about where he’d learned that skill. Or rather, from whom he’d learned that skill.
Given how everything had turned out, Castis was quite satisfied with Jane Shepard as a role model for his son. He certainly could have chosen worse.
“Jane has been good for him,” Castis said, his subvocals matching hers for affection. “I can only hope her mother is just as good as she is.”
“Guess we’ll find out.”
----<>----
The invitation didn’t come for another two days. His omnitool chimed with a call from Garrus only twenty minutes before he was supposed to meet Hannah in the evening, which meant he was able to answer it in the skycar on his way to some play she wanted to see.
“Hey, Dad,” Garrus said over the connection on his omnitool. “Been meaning to ask if you’d be available for dinner on Friday.”
Castis raised a brow plate at his son’s image hovering over his wrist. “Why, Garrus? Have something in mind?”
Garrus heaved a sigh, and Jane’s face appeared over his shoulder to interrupt. “Don’t mind him. Garrus is just nervous. We’d like you to meet my mother. She’s living on the station now. There’s something we’d like to tell you both at the same time.”
Castis felt hope well under his keel. Meeting Jane’s mother was certainly an important step in the seriousness of the two’s relationship, but there could only be one thing that they needed to communicate to both parents at the same time to avoid insult to either clan. Not that turian clan politics would have mattered much to Jane, but he knew Garrus would probably fret over the propriety of it had they done it separately. Garrus wasn’t the only one in that partnership that indulged the other’s every whim.
“Garrus,” he said, trying to for sternness and failing miserably. “Friday is tomorrow. Did it occur to you that I have a personal life and might already have plans?”
He’d thought that his subvocals vibrating with eager anticipation would have made his levity clear, but Garrus actually seemed worried for a moment. “Stop panicking, Garrus,” Jane admonished. “I made sure Sol let him know this was coming since you wouldn’t stop dithering about it.”
Well, at least the women in Garrus’ life had things under control for him. And perhaps for Castis himself, too. Galaxy-renowned Spectre and premier C-Sec detective, and Jane and Solana still needed to manage them both on occasion.
“Thank you, Jane, for your thoughtfulness,” Castis said with a nod. “Please let me know when and where, and I’ll be there.”
Garrus decided to rejoin the conversation then and let him know he’d send him the details. Castis signed off just in time for his skycar to land in front of the theater. He stepped out and scanned his surroundings to find Hannah, quickly spotting her over the mostly human crowd. He gingerly made his way towards her, careful not to jostle anyone too hard.
She had no trouble spotting him, and even less trouble meeting him halfway as she effortlessly slipped through the crowd. He grasped her outstretched hands in greeting – they were very firmly in that territory now – and she leaned up to give him a light kiss. He was delighted to learn how humans kissed when she’d asked to give him one after their third date.
“Hello, Hannah,” he greeted. “You look lovely this evening.”
Her blue dress nearly matched the shade of his suit, and it brought out the color of her eyes.
“Hello, Castis,” she greeted in return. “You look very dashing. As always.”
He ducked his head uncomfortably under her eyes. He owned just the one suit, so he’d worn it to every date. She told him she didn’t mind, but he was starting to think he needed to expand his wardrobe.
The play ended up being a revival of some famous human playwright’s work that had been adapted for elcor. The elcor interpretations had reached their peak on the Citadel during the war as people desperately tried to buy themselves in distractions from a galaxy falling apart around them. They seemed set to rise in popularity again as people tried to reclaim cultural normalcy from the ashes.
He dutifully sat through the three hours of sheer boring awfulness. In his private view, this creative effort could remain buried under the rubble of a mostly destroyed galaxy.
Thankfully, Hannah collapsed into laughter as soon as they left the theater. “Castis, dear,” she said, “I am so sorry I subjected you to that. Do you mind if we skip tomorrow’s conclusion?”
He exhaled in relief. He’d been prepared to use the dinner with Garrus, Jane, and her mother as an excuse to get out of it, but it seemed he wouldn’t have to. “Oh, thank the spirits. If I had to sit through another three hours of that, I might have questioned our ability to make this work. I could try drinking, but I don’t think any amount of alcohol could see me through another session of that.”
“Well,” she said, canting her head up at him, “as it happens, I bought a bottle of something my son-in-law tells me is excellent turian brandy. Would you like to come back to my apartment and have a glass? As an apology?”
Oh. Oh! She was inviting him back to her place. He’d been agonizing for days now what that would look like. How he could even ask her. Would she even be interested. Was he actually interested. How did it work. Would it work.
The knowledge of how to sort through these things had been lost in the long decades he’d spent with Lelwyn. He didn’t need to worry about how to approach bringing anyone home because he had a home with the most incredible woman he’d ever met. Even when he was on the Citadel working with C-Sec and she was on Palaven raising their children once Garrus started formal schooling, she was never more than a few relay jumps away. He had someone to go home to that he loved more than anyone.
And he wanted it again.
He exhaled at the thought. I want it again, he thought deliberately. More importantly, he was ready for it again. Maybe Hannah was it and maybe she wasn’t, but this was a first step. Towards what, he wasn’t entirely sure, but he could surely take one towards her. The dull ache of Lelwyn’s loss would never go away, but he was suddenly sure it would willingly share space with new affection.
After all, it wasn’t like he loved his own children any less now that he loved Jane like a daughter. He wouldn’t love anyone the exact same way he’d loved his wife, just as he wouldn’t love Jane the way he loved Solana. But he could certainly enjoy someone’s company again. Feel affection. Maybe one day, even love them.
He realized he’d been silent too long when Hannah spoke again, her voice a little worried. “You don’t have to, or anything. If that’s, I don’t know, too fast for a turian?”
He took a step closer to her so he could reach out and grasp her hand. “Not too early at all, Hannah,” he assured her. “I was just…I don’t know…dithering about it?”
The word Jane had used earlier to describe Garrus felt very accurate to how he was feeling right now. “I’ve been trying to research on the extranet how this would work, trying to figure out if you would even want it.”
Hannah actually laughed out loud, a relieved sound that echoed in the space around them. “Castis, it’s just a drink. If it goes anywhere, then we’ll figure it out. Though, I do have to ask: didn’t you talk to your son? He’s with a human woman; I’m sure he could have answered your questions.”
Castis shuddered at the thought of discussing this with Garrus. “Absolutely not. I was getting almost desperate enough to ask, but I truly think I’d die before I asked him any questions. Why, did you talk to your daughter?”
“Of course I did,” Hannah said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy. “I told her I was seeing a very nice turian gentleman who hadn’t made a move yet, and she gave me…well, a lot of pointers. After that talk, I’m honestly not that surprised you didn’t speak with your son. Apparently, reserved is a very good description for most turian men. Said she had to proposition hers in such plain language that even he couldn’t misunderstand what she meant.”
“Is that what this is?” he asked. “A proposition?”
“A proposition for a drink,” she said, letting go of his hand so she could thread her arm through his and pull herself into him. “If it doesn’t turn into anything else, I’ll be okay with that. But just so we’re clear: I’d like it to.”
He felt a flush creep across his neck at the thought. Her directness was refreshing and appreciated. “Then, in the interest of clarity: I would also like it to.”
She laughed and rocked up to plant a kiss on his mandible. “Then by all means, please escort me home and try my turian brandy.”