A little headcanon-y piece of a story: Leah Ryder and Reyes Vidal
The whisky is mostly gone. Kadara Port still smells of acid and burning metal and bloody grease, but up here on the roof, Leah can see the outline of old angaran architecture in the scaffolding against the orange sky. And Reyes leaned against her back after she called him a friend.
“’m gonna tell you a secret.”
“You sure about that?” He sounds amused. He usually does, like he’s got an inside joke.
“Yeah.” She takes a last sip and passes back the bottle. “How long did it take you to decide to join the Initiative? Like…after you heard about it, did you jump right in, sign right up?”
“I was all for it. New place, new chances?”
“New scams to play on new people?”
Leah nods and pleats the fabric of her Initiative navies running creases across the thigh. nothing but the clothes on my back, she’d told Liam. Not even her favorite jeans. Or something slinky for a party.
“Ryder?” It’s actual concern on Reyes’ face, echoing SAM.
She tightens her jaw. “I don’t remember saying yes. I don’t remember signing anything.”
“I went to Luna Base to say goodbye to Dad and Scott. And…I woke up here.” She can hear SAM working, like she can hear the blood thrumming in her veins after a clean shot lines up. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m here, there’s work to be done.”
He’s wrapping her hand in his, his face slack in shock. “How does that…How?”
“Got my suspicions. Dad kept things from SAM, put blocks on him, it figures he could do it to me, too, through SAM.” There’s a agreeing hum that feels like a nod, just behind her ear.
“Jesus. Ryder.” Reyes’ hand is on her shoulder, now, his whole body torqued towards her and Leah has no doubt she could lean into it and get it all kissed right out of her head. For awhile.
She’s not going to do that. She needs a friend even if it’s just for tonight. And, “It doesn’t matter now. I just…I can’t tell…them. They’re all here with these…noble intentions. And I’m. I’m their Pathfinder.”
Reyes glances up towards the garish purple neon, lining the upper hub. It reflects in the hazel of his eyes. Liam would try to fix this, unfixable though it is. She loves that about him. But what she needs is what Reyes does next.
“Sloane would have shot your dad on sight, you know? That was the plan. No one was expecting,” he brushes a finger against the freckles on her earlobe before he retreats, looks away, “she thought she could use you.”
The ping on the omnitool lets her know the evening is over. Her crew is getting restless. When she glances back, Reyes’ eyes have closed and he’s finishing the bottle.
Leah stands up, surprised to be steady. “Got to say, Reyes, that whisky actually was probably worth getting shot by Sloane.”
“If you buy next time, maybe I’ll have a secret to tell you.”
