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Jaal can feel the tension in his chest unraveling as soon as Havarl is in sight. He's missed his home; Aya is beautiful, of course, but nothing can replace Havarl in Jaal's heart. It is home--no matter how far he travels or how many aliens he meets.
As soon as the Tempest lands, he's standing at the entrance, ready beyond belief to step foot on Havarl once more. He can't stop a grin from crossing his face as the ramp lowers and the first cool breath of air presses against his face, tickling his nose with the damp, grassy scent of home. Scott is the first one off, of course, but Jaal is right on his heels, staring wide-eyed at the surrounding forest, as if he's the alien here.
Rain is falling softly--it usually is, of course, but Jaal had missed the constant pitter-patter which had lulled him to sleep as a child. Animals call in the distance, wild and untameable. The underbrush is dark and dense, though some plants glow aqua with bioluminescence. The sky is painted deep azure, wisps of clouds obscuring the stars above.
“Wow,” Vetra says, breaking the spell holding Jaal captive. “It's gorgeous here.”
“Yeah,” Scott breathes. When Jaal looks over at him, he sees the Pathfinder has stopped, staring up at the sky. “SAM, tell me I can take off my helmet.”
“The atmosphere is breathable, Pathfinder,” SAM's clear voice answers. “Though I will need more data before I can determine if the precipitation is harmless. It appears to be mostly comprised of hydrogen and oxygen, but also contains some trace elements of--”
“Okay, helmet's coming off,” Scott says, reaching up to undo his helmet's seals.
“Ryder,” Jaal says, alarm snaking through his chest, “it might not be safe for--”
“C'mon, Jaal,” Scott interrupts. “It's just water,” he says as his helmet comes off.
As the first drops of rain hit Scott's head, the effect on him is visible nearly instantaneously. He holds his helmet in one hand at his side as his shoulders drop. He tilts his face up towards the sky, eyes sliding shut and mouth parting slightly.
Jaal watches Scott with wide eyes, inclining his head to the side a little. “Ryder…?” he asks carefully. “Are you paralyzed?”
Jaal feels his alarm start to dissipate when Scott's lips twitch upward for a moment. “No,” Scott says quietly. “I've just been waiting for this moment for a long time.”
“I can't imagine you mean standing on Havarl, as you only learned of its existence a few sleep cycles ago,” Jaal says, moving a step closer to Scott. Without using a comm channel, it's harder to hear him over the pattering of the rain.
“No,” Scott says. “I mean rain. I was hoping we'd find some here in Andromeda...and we did.”
“You had rain in the Milky Way?” Jaal asks. “What was it like? Was it very different from here?”
Scott waits a few moments before he answers. “Here's a little warmer,” he says. “There's usually wind, too--and Earth's rain could come down in sheets, not just a steady drizzle. Do the storms here ever pick up?”
“If they do, the forest protects us from it,” Jaal says. “What we are seeing now is very much the norm.”
Scott nods before he opens his eyes again, looking over at Jaal. The sight makes a vague something writhe through his gut. Scott's hair, normally meticulously maintained, is plastered to his forehead and curling at the edges. His face seems relaxed, the lines around his eyes gone and his lips quirked to one side in a likely-subconscious smile. His blue eyes seem electric in the dim light.
Oh, Jaal thinks after that last one. It makes sense, of course--Jaal isn't sure how Scott is judged by human standards, but he finds himself attracted to how the Pathfinder appears. He simply hadn't expected something of this sort to develop so soon, if at all. When was the last time he'd--?
“Okay, let's get a move on,” Scott says, turning around as he reaffixes his helmet over his head. “These scientists aren't gonna wait around forever.”
“Don't say that like we're the ones who had to stand in the rain for a few minutes,” Vetra says. Her words are harsh, but her tone is light.
“Don't act like you didn't enjoy it too,” Scott says. “I saw you checking out that plant.”
Vetra scoffs. “To see if it'd be worth anything.”
“Please do not pilfer my homeworld,” Jaal grouses. Why had Scott chosen to bring the smuggler? To be fair, though, Jaal would have had qualms with anyone on the team. He can't help that he's overprotective of Havarl; it is his home. How far would any of them go to defend Eos?
“Relax, big guy,” Vetra says. “I won't take anything I'm not supposed to.”
Jaal lets out an unconvinced growl, but they all let the conversation drop. Which means Jaal's mind can turn to his newfound discovery; he passes through it with a fine-toothed comb. How long has the attraction been there? How strong is it? Will it interfere with his mission aboard the Tempest? Will he tell Scott?
No is the only definitive answer Jaal can form. He won't tell Scott--not now, at least. There's no reason to, and Jaal has learned that humans can be particularly strange about romantic attachments. It's best to hold it close to his chest until...until. He can figure out a deadline later.
As they continue on towards the structure on the hill, Jaal decides that will be enough.