Work Text:
Partners in Crime
Ket Lemmar tried to sit comfortably but it was impossible. He was tall, even for a salarian, with legs that a human had once told him 'went on forever' as though she wasn't sure it was a good thing. He wasn't certain how he had managed to seat himself in a chair obviously intended for a volus, but he felt certain he might never get out again. Ket was, as ever, in a bad mood. Along with being crammed into a chair with too much ass room, but so short he could set his chin on his knees, he had been called in for a special meeting with Doarn. The batarian was the boss of their little gang there on the Citadel: the Brown Dwarfs. It didn't matter how often people reminded Ket that brown dwarfs were “heavenly bodies that occupied the mass range between that of large gas giant planets and the lowest-mass stars,” it was still a stupid name for a gang, no matter how small and unknown they might be.
The Brown Dwarfs had their HQ in the back of an abandoned warehouse, where a few of the gang's higher-ups had made 'offices' for themselves by stacking crates around. Ket had his eyes fixed on the gap between crates that represented the door of Doarn's office. It only took a few more moments of staring and longing to be anywhere but there for the batarian to show. He had someone with him as well, and Ket let out a little groan. “Doarn, please no. We've been over this. I do not need a partner.”
“Think of it this way,” said the batarian in a upbeat voice, “she can help you pay the rent on that shit hole you live in.”
Ket pursed his lips and looked the second person up and down. Quarian, female. Absurd. “Sorry. I can't handle a quarian,” he said bitterly. “It's like keeping a pet. With her immune system she's likely to die on me without warning.”
For her part the quarian said nothing, just glared at him with eyes that glowed from behind her helmet's visor. She was shorter than the average human female, but slender. She looked nimble, best he could tell. The fact that he could not see her face was freaking Ket out more than a little, but he wasn't about to admit it. With a tremendous effort he hauled himself up from the chair and for a moment was all awkward legs and long arms before he regained his balance and some of his dignity. Doarn just gave a sorting laugh, “classy as always, Ket. Is there anyone else you'd like to offend before we're through here?”
Nope, four eyes, I'm good Ket wanted to say, but knew better. Even if Doarn was a low level crime boss he was still a boss, and one of the only ones willing to let Ket in their gang at all. For some reason the rangy salarian rubbed people the wrong way.
“I think Leema here will compliment your skill set nicely,” Doarn went on as though Ket was not glaring at him the entire time. “She's a first class cat burglar and we're lucky to have her. I had her rob a minimum security vault yesterday as a test and she did it flawlessly. Quarians make great thieves. Thanks to the suits they don't leave prints, skin cells, nothing for C-sec to track. It's a pity more don't get into a life of crime, they'd be great at it.”
“You're name's Leema?” Ket asked sharply, still trying to gauge the unreadable quarian.
“Yes,” she said, her voice had the slightly metallic tone that all quarian's had, thanks to speaking through their helmet systems. “And you are Ket.” he noticed a bitterness in her voice, like she wanted to add an insult or two, but didn't. A criminal quarian with restraint. Ket was interested, he couldn't help it. Still, he didn't want a partner. He didn't get on well with other people in general. Perhaps it was his sparkling personality.
“Look, Ket, everyone here has at least one partner. Keeps you honest. Well, honest to your bosses,” the batarian winked with both eyes on the right side of his face. “You can try it out. Now be nice.”
“Whatever,” was all the comeback Ket could come up with on short notice. He plucked his coat from the back of the tiny chair and strode from the room, leaving the quarian and Doarn behind. They could make him have a partner, but they couldn't make him like her.
Still, there was something about her he couldn't shake. Maybe it was that he couldn't see her face, so she was an intriguing mystery. Or maybe it was the way she had taken his abuse. Not with the attitude of one so downtrodden they no longer defended themselves. She seemed like she was showing a lot of restraint not to tear him a new ass hole. He liked that. Both the anger, and the restraint. He knew that he could be a bit of a loose cannon. He was liability, and he was aware of it. Maybe the boss was right and he did need someone with a little self control in his life. He decided to go for a walk and ponder this further.
~~~
Leema Zel stood in line as patiently as she could muster. The Dextro food depot was full and noisy. Finally it was her turn and she was about to tell the turian behind the counter what she wanted, when someone else started speaking right over her. She turned and found her eyes level with the chest of the turian behind her in line. “Excuse me,” she said, trying to keep her tone even, “It was my turn to order.”
“What?” the turian made a show of looking around, as though he wasn't sure where her voice had come from. Finally his small eyes focused on her, “look boys, this quarian thinks it's her turn,” the bully turned to slap the chest of one of his friends, who stood behind him.
Great, an ass hole with a posse, Leema thought darkly. Still, she'd gotten herself out of worse situations. Breaking into high-end houses meant some pretty elaborate dances with security mechs and detection lasers. She'd wriggled out of all those situations, she could do the same with this one. She just had to think. However, it was hard to concentrate with the group of turians raising a fuss. “Listen, little quarian, your people are a blight on this otherwise perfect city.” said the ring leader.
“Go back to the Migrant Fleet!” called one of his cronies. Nearby patrons laughed. The few quarians who were dining there either left, or slouched into their seats as though trying not to be seen.
“Quarians,” mused the ring leader spitefully, “basically rats in suits.”
Leema was fast working on a comeback that might involve an ill advised fist to the turian's jaw, putting her deep into a fight she knew she couldn't win, when someone tapped the lead turian on the shoulder. “I believe it was this lady's turn in line.”
“Ket?” she leaned around her harasser to see the lean salrian was indeed standing there, face set, staring down three, muscular turians.
“Hey guys, look at this!” shouted the leader eagerly, “a salarian now! What next, a hannar come to save the day?”
“I suggest you move back in line and let this young lady order,” said Ket, his voice very steady. Leema noticed he had a fairly deep voice, for a salarian. He didn't seem even a little bit intimidated when the turians moved to threaten him, cracking their knuckles and flexing their necks.
“You going to make me, slim?” the lead bully questioned, baring his teeth.
“Perhaps. Shall we take this outside?” Ket asked, his voice level as ever.
Shit. Here she had finally joined a gang and gotten herself a partner (albeit one who was a total jerk) and how he was going to get his face smashed in. And why? Why the hell would he come to her rescue anyway? “Ket, it's alright,” she said, in one last attempt to get him out of there with all his parts still attached to his body.
“No need to go outside,” smirked the turian, “we can settle this right here.”
Leema flinched as Ket let out a breathy sound of surprise and pain. The turian had grabbed Ket's slender arm and twisted it cruelly. Before Leema could respond she found herself looking right into Ket's dark eyes and, to her astonishment, he winked. What happened next was so fast she barely had time to figure out what she saw. With a skillful twist, a few well placed steps and a practiced motion, Ket had put the turian on the floor.
The other two tried to pounce him then, but Ket dodged nimbly, landing perfectly aimed punches on both his attacker's jaws. In as many seconds, all three turians were down for the count. Ket shook his hand, which was no longer balled into a fist, gave Leema the flash of a smile, and exited the eatery.
Still stunned Leema managed to order her food. She figured since Ket had gone to all the trouble of protecting her spot in line she had damn well better get something to eat. Then, clutching the bag of her newly purchased food, she hurried out of the dining station and looked around for the salarian. She found him easily. He was waiting for her to the left of the door. The two of them began to walk, side by side, down the street, actually falling into step, though it took two of her strides to match his. Luckily she liked to walk fast. “Ket, that was...amazing,” she said, not even trying to hide the admiration in her voice.
“Why? Because I'm a salarian?” he asked, still a little bit prickly.
“Well, yes,” she said, deciding he would probably appreciate honesty. Seemingly he did because he chuckled, if a little dryly. “Even so, that was really impressive!” she went on. A smile flickered on the corner of his lips, but he seemed to be trying to hide it. “Doarn told me you were unusual for a salarian. Said something about you being stupidly aggressive. I had no idea he meant like that.”
“Figured I just hunted down computer viruses with determination?” Ket asked, looking sideways and down at her.
“I guess,” she said, though to be honest she wasn't sure what she had thought. “I'm sorry I stereotyped you,” she decided to extend the olive branch.
“I'm sorry I did the same to you,” Ket said. She was surprised how easily he apologized. She'd expected him to be too proud to do so, but instead he seemed completely at ease with it. Honest. Like her. Honesty among thieves, she chuckled to herself.
“Damn, turians have pointy faces,” Ket said wryly, sticking his knuckle into his mouth.
“Don't do that, you'll get an infection,” Leema reached up and took his hand from his lips, slapping a medigel treated band-aid over the cut on his knuckle.
He seemed startled, “you just carry those around?”
“Look who you're talking to,” Leema gestured to herself, and her suit.
“Point taken,” he said. Then he stopped walking and turned to face her. He extended a hand, “Ket Lemmar. Nice to meet you.”
“Leema Zel nar Rynlam,” she took his hand and shook it.
Ket nodded and returned to striding along, “I'm still not alright with this whole partner thing, but we can try it.”
“Sounds good. And I promise not to die suddenly,” she said, once again keeping up with him.
“Yeah...uhm...sorry I said that,” Ket shot her an uneasy glance.
“I'm sorry too,” she replied.
“For what?” Ket asked, eyebrow raised.
“I said some reeeeally terrible things about you as soon as you were out of earshot.”
They both laughed, and walked on down the street like old friends.