Just a Kiss

Lights flashed in Scott Ryder's eyes; the bass pounded in his chest. He watched the shadows dance over the faceless bodies in the crowd as he downed the last of his drink. His sister, Sara, was among those losing themselves to the throbbing digital beat. She chose to bury her feelings beneath the feel of the wandering hands of strangers. Was it the best way to grieve? Probably not, but who was he to judge? He tapped the empty glass on the bar and the batarian bartender filled it again, casting him a sidelong glance with half his eyes. Scott raised the glass in thanks before bring it to his lips again. Besides, Sara was military trained just as he was. She could take care of herself.

He caught a familiar fragrance over the scent of alcohol and looked for her. "Ryder," Cora Harper greeted, sliding onto the empty stool beside him. He offered her a lopsided smile. He watched as she extended one long, strong arm to the bartender, signaling for a drink. It didn't take more than a moment for her to get her drink. "To Ellen," Cora offered her toast, raising her glass towards Scott.

"To Mom," Scott answered. He fought fire with fire, attempting to mask to heat of emotion in his throat with the burn of the drink as he swallowed it. He stared at the empty glass in front of him, but his periphery allowed him to see Cora as she turned and scouted the club for Sara. He angled himself so he could watch Cora, the colored lights highlighting the soft angles of her face. Her hair fell long on one side, and she pushed it back with her elegant fingers – elegant fingers that could kill a person with one quick movement. "Did you see Dad?" Scott asked. He didn't really want to talk about Alec, but he wanted her attention on him.

She turned her eyes to him, and he locked his gaze on hers. He searched, finding the green and gold hiding in her brown eyes. "Briefly, at the office. He seemed, okay," she answered, and Scott snorted, tapping his glass on the bar again.

There was a sudden presence at his opposite side, and he knew it was Sara without having to look or hear her. She leaned in and kissed his cheek. "I'm heading out," she said, and Scott looked over his shoulder and found a marine twice Sara's size waiting for her, his half-glazed eyes firmly planted on the curve of his sister's ass. Scott snorted a laugh as he locked eyes with his twin. Her eyes were lighter, brighter than his but they held the same desperate need for comfort and he knew she'd find it. He nodded at her and Sara turned to Cora. "Take care of him for me?" she asked her friend. Cora nodded and watched them leave.

The jarhead wrapped a burly arm around her and tucked a ham-hand into her back pocket. Cora shook her head. "I never really understood her taste in men." Scott took a deep breath and turned his back to the bar, his refilled glass in hand.

"That?" Scott asked pointing towards the door they'd disappeared through. Cora nodded. "That's not … that's just … she's not interested in him. She'd be bored with him in an hour. When she's like this, she wants someone to get in, get her off, and get out." Cora barked a laugh, her eyes sparkling when she did and Scott couldn't help but smile in return; his eyes following her, tracing her jaw and the length of her neck. "This is how she deals."

"And you?" Cora asked, turning towards him. Her lips pursed as she sipped from the straw in her glass. "How do you deal?" she asked. Her voice almost too soft to be heard over the noise called music in the club.

Scott raised his eyebrows and turned to the bar. "Like this: Bartender! Another round for me and the lovely lady here!" She grinned, dropping her face.

He felt her hand on his arm and lifted his face to hers. "Seriously, Scott, how are you doing?" Her thumb moved in circles on his arm and he felt a stirring in his core at the intimate touch. This is what they did. He and Cora. They flirted. They joked, laughed, touched, and teased but it never went anywhere. She was his father's second and his sister's best friend and he was notorious for fucking things up. This – a relationship with Cora - wasn't something he could fuck up.

"I'm okay," he promised, covering her hand briefly with his.

She signaled the bartender for another round as he released her. "It's hard to believe, isn't it?" she asked then, their backs were to the bar and they watched the crowd.

"What's that?"

"In just a few weeks, we'll go to sleep, and when we wake up - somewhere else - all of this will be gone." He realized as she spoke that he must be worse off than he thought. He had the overwhelming urge to kiss her. To take her in his arms and kiss her breathless. He wondered what she would taste like, how she would feel, what kind of sounds he could coax from the back of her throat. Maybe it was the curve of her jaw or the fullness of her lips. Maybe it was the wistful tone in her voice or the hope hanging on every word. Maybe it was the fact that he knew very little of what his future held for him, but he knew she would be there, or it was the booze.

He didn't know what it was but he needed it to stop.

"Oh, it's going to take more than a couple drinks to get me to wax poetic about Andromeda," he grinned when she rolled her eyes at him.

"Ass," she muttered, grinning, as she took a sip of her drink.

"You do have a great ass," he teased, leaning close to her again and she chuckled.

"All right, Romeo, I think it's time to get you to home," she chided through her laughter. She settled his tab while he finished his drink. She took his arm and draped it over her shoulder. He felt her wrap an arm around his waist and start to lead him from the club.

The artificially fresh air hit them as they left Purgatory, and Scott swayed on his feet for a second. "You okay, there, stud?" Cora teased gently.

"It's all part of my plan," he muttered as they started their walk. The air doing a lot to clear his drink addled mind. He pulled her a bit closer to him, glad he could blame it on the alcohol.

"What genius plan would that be?"

He slid a hand over her hip, his fingers dancing over the curve of her rear. She smacked his chest, but didn't release him, and didn't tell him to stop, either. They continued their walk, arms around each other and to anyone else, they would have looked like a couple. An actual couple, not just a couple of drunks. They were close to his place on the Citadel, closer than he liked right now. He was enjoying the feel of her small, strong frame tucked up against him. "It was a nice service, though, wasn't it?" he asked, his voice felt hollow as he spoke around the knot in his throat.

She whispered his name and stopped walking. He realized then they'd reached his place. She didn't release him, but she shifted her hold to a hug. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she buried her face there as his hands slid around her waist, pulling her into him. He felt the softness of the buzzed side of her head against his neck. It was softer than the hair on his cheek, but he adored the contrast. He could feel her breathing against him, feel the breath push from her lips and skim over his flesh.

Heat bloomed in his belly as he felt her curves press up against him. He pulled her in tighter, and she answered, holding him closer. Her hands went to his hair, gently carding the longer sections on top and dancing over the short hairs at the back of his head.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there. Eventually, she pulled back and cupped his stubbled cheek. Tears swam in her eyes with they met his. "It was a beautiful service, and you spoke so eloquently. Ellen would have been proud," she whispered, and he nodded, closing his eyes as he fought back the emotion threatening to spill.

It took much longer than it should have for him to realize it. It wasn't until she pulled away that he realized she had kissed him. She'd kissed him and he missed it. He licked his lips, tasting the drinks she'd had at the bar and the hint of berries from her gloss. Her cheeks were flushed and before she could say anything in her own defense, he pulled her back to him. She gasped as his lips met hers again, one of his hands moving to cup the back of her head and hold her there, the other wrapping around her waist to hold her against him. Her hands slid up his arms and, once again, around his neck.

Her lips parted for him easily, and their tongues danced, stroking, teasing, and tasting. The velvet feel of her tongue sent his blood south and his mind reeling. One of his hands dipped low, cupping her rear and that was all it took for her to moan; it was a sound he would keep with him for the rest of his days: the needy moan he'd brought from the huntress. He turned and pressed her into the wall of his building. His leg slid between hers and she gasped, clinging to him. Her teeth caught his lower lip and tugged gently. A soft growl left his chest and she slid her hand down the back of his shirt, her short, practical nails scraping the skin.

It took everything in him to suppress his primitive instincts, to not throw her over his shoulder and carry her up to his room, or simply taking her right there in the alley. At the end of the day, he was a good guy and though she wasn't saying no, they were both too drunk for this kind of decision. So, he ended the kiss, slowing and coming out of it gently. Yet, he didn't release her. He simply pressed his forehead to hers as they caught their breath, their bodies still close and thrumming with energy.

"That was," she whispered, her voice hoarse with unsatisfied need. He covered her lips with one finger. He didn't know what she was going to say, but he thought it was perfect. She said nothing. The damp air she pushed around his finger fogged his thoughts.

"Don't… let's just… keep it. Okay?" he asked, his voice breaking on the question. She nodded, and when he dropped his finger she kissed him again, quickly and firmly, before pulling back. He didn't know what her schedule was like between now and the Ark's departure. He didn't want more things to change. So much was changing, he didn't know if he could handle this, too; he just wanted to keep this memory close, to cherish it, and he would. He released her and they put distance between them before they snapped back together.

"See you…?" she paused, realizing neither knew when they'd see the other again.

"In a couple centuries?" he chuckled, and she grinned, a flush still decorating her cheeks.

"Soon," she corrected, and Scott nodded. She smiled, and turned on a heel, walking quickly towards a transit station. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd made a mistake. Whether the mistake was the kiss or not inviting her upstairs, he didn't know.

He knew very little about his future. Though, he was glad that, no matter what, Cora Harper would be a part of it.