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Karin spotted him at the end of her shift and was proud of herself for not stopping in the middle of everything. She hadn't seen him in years—twenty or so by now, but he looked the same.
Distressingly so.
She met his eyes and acknowledgement passed between them: yes, he was there for her. She swallowed as she kept walking.
He followed her, as she knew he would, but she went into the locker room and grabbed her things before leaving again.
"Karin."
"Petrovsky." Her tone was sharp as she returned his greeting.
He gave a small sigh. "I need to talk to you," he explained.
Karin moved to the side of the path and turned to him. "Why?" she demanded. "Are you back? Properly?"
Oleg shook his head. "I'm not. Something important has happened, though."
Karin gave him a long look. This hurt. It surprised her how badly, too. Twenty years was surely enough time. She'd moved on—hadn't she?
Slowly she exhaled as her mind raced for a solution. She couldn't resist the impulse to hear him out. But where to take him?
Not a restaurant.
But her shift had run long and she was missing her dinner.
"Very well," she finally said. "I know a place."
He fell into step beside her, though they walked in silence. She couldn't even begin to think of what to say, what to ask.
"Any experiments go awry lately?"
He sighed. "The opposite actually."
"Hm."
"Karin…"
"Don't," she interrupted him. "This—It's difficult enough."
He nodded silently.
Finally, she brought him to a bar, far off the beaten path. Most importantly, it had neither any romantic implications nor Alliance soldiers. That it had surprisingly decent food was just bonus at that point.
They ordered and she led him to a table where they sat. She took a tentative sip from her drink. It had been too long since she'd last eaten and she wanted to maintain a clear head.
At least until their conversation was finished.
A server dropped off their food and Karin didn't wait. She could sense the amusement radiating off Oleg.
He waited until she was halfway through her meal before sliding a datapad over to her. "Take a look," he said.
She glanced at him but set down her fork and picked it up. As she scrolled through the reports and logs, even a video, her eyes widened.
"You can't be serious."
"On the contrary, I very much am."
She put down the datapad. "And what do you want from me?"
"There'll be a mission. A ship. A ship in need of a doctor."
"You know how I feel about Cerberus."
"Tell me honestly, Karin, are you happy here? Truly?" Oleg entreated her.
She picked up her fork and began to eat again. "Oleg…"
"Harper's insane. Bringing Sh—the Commander back? It's impossible," she finally said.
He scoffed scornfully. "You saw the data, how can you say that?"
"Because dead is dead! That should be obvious." She kept her voice down but didn't even try to hide her incredulity.
"Karin." He picked up the datapad and waved it at her.
She glared at him, frustrated. "Even if a body can—somehow—be brought back to life, how can you be sure she's brought back right? That the—the indefinable spark that makes her who she is will come along with the biological functions? This is worse than madness! How can you go along with this?"
"Her helmet kept the brain intact," he replied mildly.
She exhaled sharply. "Both of you have gone mad. He's taken you along with him."
"Karin, please," Oleg began. "I know the problems. But Jack—he's…" He looked away and breathed deeply for a moment. "This project has his full attention. He's overseeing it very carefully. He believes in it more than anything. I—I haven't seen him like this since the beginning."
Karin shook her head disbelievingly.
Oleg sighed. "Look, we don't need you for Project Lazarus. You don't need to take part. But won't you at least consider joining her on the mission? She'll need you, I'm sure. She knows you, trusts you." He paused before adding softly, "As do I."
"I don't know," Karin said.
By now they'd both long finished their meals, their drinks. She gave Oleg a long look, torn on how to proceed.
She missed him. So very much.
She made a gesture and asked for their bill. To her annoyance, he insisted on paying.
"Besides," Oleg said, "Jack's footing the bill anyway. The—" he paused and checked amount, "—grotesquely high amount will be suitably shocking to him, I'm sure." His dry tone made her laugh.
"Oh, well, you should have led with that," she teased. And it hurt how natural it all felt.
In that moment, she made a decision, though she knew it was far from the wisest one she'd ever made. "Walk with me?"
He gave her a knowing look and studied her for a moment, weighing her invitation.
"Yes."
She brought him back to her apartment. She'd taken a meandering route and he seemed to recognize as much. She had just needed to be sure.
She led him to the living room and took a look at him. Taking him in simply as the man she'd once known. He looked… "Cerberus suits you, I think," she said.
He smiled subtly. "It's not any worse at least."
She huffed a small laugh. "It hasn't been the same without you. Both of you, really. No one keeping life… well, that special brand of interesting Harper always brought."
"Not until Shepard anyway?"
She laughed, properly this time. "Our time on the Normandy was certainly not uneventful."
"I'd say not. Geth… A Reaper," he said significantly.
"Ah," she said. She sighed and gestured at the couch then followed after him.
"So," Oleg said.
"So," Karin echoed. She was sitting next to him. Why she didn't know, it would all hurt that much more when he left if she allowed him too close.
"You must know—the Reapers. They're the enemy that has been pushing Jack forwards," Oleg said softly. "They are what drives Lazarus."
She inhaled sharply. "How can he know?"
Oleg sighed. "He saw a vision. Like Shepard, I'd guess. But…" He ran a hand down his face, resigned but needing to be honest. "The device he got it from—it was some sort of Reaper artifact."
Karin stilled. "Is he…?"
Oleg shrugged. "Probably. I've noticed things over the years. Changes. It's not like it was with Saren."
Karin gave him a hard look. "Oleg."
"He's fighting the Reapers as best he can and I do the best I can to keep him… on target, I suppose," he replied. "This plan. It. I don't know, truly. We've argued about it—for hours no less. You're right. It is mad. But it's working. And when it's finished, when we have Shepard, we'll have a ship. As I said. And a ship needs a doctor, especially this ship with this very specific commander."
"You know what she means to David! And Steven! How could either of you even think of this?"
"She'll be alive in the end. I'd think they'll be glad to have her back," he replied, his tone entirely too sensible.
"My word, Oleg."
He shrugged and his shoulder brushed against hers again. "I need to sleep at night," he confessed.
"At least you're honest."
"With you? Always."
"Not just with me, I'd wager," she shot back dryly.
He reached over carefully and put a hand on her knee. "Not like that," he said quietly.
She covered his hand with hers.
"Are you—Have you really been well?" she asked gently.
"I've missed you," he replied, and she heard her pain echoed in his voice. "Has there—" he cleared his throat. "I mean, have you—"
She cut him off. "No." She smiled wryly as her grip on his hand tightened. "There could never be."
He shifted. Turned to face her. "Likewise," he admitted ruefully.
She smiled sadly.
He raised a hand and tucked her hair slowly, gently behind her ear, lingering. The familiar act added to the ache in her heart.
When instead of moving his hand away, Oleg moved to the nape of her neck, gently pulling her towards him, she knew she should protest, that it would be wiser to stop him.
But she couldn't.
And when his lips met hers, she raised her hands to hold him, firmly.
There was, as there had ever been, that sensation of home in his kiss. The sense that they belonged together, fit together in a way that was irreplaceable.
She shut her eyes as tears gathered.
She loved him. She always would.
They knew each other well—still, even after the years had turned into decades.
And when Oleg pulled back, she held onto him, stopping him. She rested her forehead on his. "I love you still," she said, a whisper into the space between them.
"And I you," he returned. "Always."
She kissed him again at that, quickly, gently, sadly.
Then she let go and pulled away from him.
"Tell Harper I'll do it," she said. "Whatever he needs from me."
She paused and a silent but hung in the air.
"But you can't have anything to do with the mission," she said at last, looking down where their knees met. "I can't. It's too much."
Oleg sat in silence for a long moment. One beat then two, before he stood. "Very well," he said, and there was only acquiescence in his voice.
She began to stand, to follow him to the door, but he stopped her. A gentle press on her shoulder kept her seated.
"I'll go," he said, and this time she heard the pained resignation.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
He shook his head. "If you have need of me. At any time."
She nodded silently though they both knew she wouldn't.
And then he left.