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When Wasea woke up, her bed was empty.
She rolled her eyes at the empty room. Vasir was, as always, an insufferably early riser. She’d been like this since they were commandos, on their first mission out of school.
Wasea got to her feet, grumbling, and threw on a robe. Despite her insistence on getting out of bed at the asscrack of dawn, Vasir could always be relied on to make coffee. It was one of several reasons Wasea tolerated her.
Vasir was sipping her coffee at the window, pretty as a picture against the Illium sunrise. Another reason Wasea tolerated her.
“You’d better have made enough for me,” Wasea grumbled, after she’d taken a good, long second to look.
“Aren’t you just a ray of morning sunshine?” Vasir said, mockingly. “The pot’s in the kitchen.”
Wasea shuffled over, poured herself a cup and plopped herself down at the kitchen table, to begin the arduous process of feeling like a proper asari and not a pile of sleepy nerve endings.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” Vasir asked, making her way across the floor, her thin nightgown shifting across her figure.
“More of the same,” Wasea grunted. “Except - oh, you’ll like this one. We got hired to ship an ardat-yakshi off the station.”
“Ew.” Vasir sneered at the thought.
Wasea snorted. “My point exactly. At least she’s got credits.”
“Charge her time and a half,” Vasir muttered.
“Already am.” Wasea smirked at her. “Gotta cover the cleaning fee somehow.”
Vasir laughed a little at that. “I do love your pricing structure.”
Wasea took another pull out of her coffee, and asked: “What about you? Going to be on Illium long?”
“A week, maybe,” Vasir sighed. “Got some upstart chasing after you-know-who’s throne.”
“Another one?” Wasea shook her head. “That’s the second one this year. Maybe the old bastard’s losing his touch.”
Vasir snorted. “Wouldn’t bet on it.”
The two of them lapsed into comfortable silence, as they often did. They’d known each other for centuries - it was only natural that sometimes they’d run out of things to say.
Wasea wondered, sometimes, what the other Spectres thought of Vasir’s connections on Illium.
Well, they probably didn’t think much of it. They all had their own nasty connections and dirty secrets. Wasea and Vasir’s girlhood bond was tame by comparison. It might have come as a shock to the aliens, but it was true: all the best commandos trained at the same school. The Spectres, the merc captains, the best and brightest of the asari military - they all knew each other.
No matter how many years between meetings or how many miles of galaxy between them, Wasea and Vasir knew each other. Their bond wouldn’t lapse from something as trivial as distance.
Still, sometimes Wasea wished that distance was a little smaller.
“You ever thought about quitting the Spectre life?” Wasea asked, lifting her head from her nearly-empty cup.
“Not since the last time you asked.” Vasir spun her coffee mug on the table with a light touch of an index finger. “Merc life just isn’t for me. I hate having clients.”
Wasea sighed. She knew that all too well.
“Well,” she said, “if you ever change your mind, the Eclipse will always be here.”
“And if you ever change your mind about being a Spectre,” Vasir said, “you know I’ll put in a good word for you.”
Wasea scoffed at the thought. She wasn’t the hero type - the altruism that was expected from a Spectre gave her hives. And the salary was just atrocious.
Across the table from her, she heard the soft scrape of Vasir’s chair against the floor.
“Heading out already?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Vasir said. “You know how he gets.”
“Well,” Wasea said, getting to her feet as well, “you know where to find me. My door’s always open for you.”
Vasir smiled, in the soft way that seemed almost unfamiliar on her face. “Only because you got tired of replacing the locks.”
Wasea had to laugh at that. She stepped forward and Vasir leaned in for a quick, sweet brush of their lips.
“See you around,” Vasir said, her voice just on the right side of soft.
And then she was gone, sauntering towards the armory and the door beyond it. Wasea watched her go, and contemplated another cup of coffee once she was gone.
No, she had work to do, just as much as Vasir did. They’d find time to meet up again.
They always did.