My own distorted reflection stared back at me from the blank television screen in my bedroom. Tears streamed unabashedly down my face, and I'd have to re-do my makeup for the umpteenth time that day. Why did I decide to have a huge shore party on the same day as the memorial ceremony for my dead boyfriend? Because I'm Commander Shepard: Hero, Commander Shepard: Space Overachiever, Commander Shepard: Savior of The Ciatadel. I hadn't saved him. The one person I actually needed to be here with me. The one man who could make all of my pain evaporate before was now the cause of my distress. Falling back on to the brand new comforter, I rubbed my already sore and swollen face. In my mind I could hear his voice from the vids like he was in the room, telling me how hard he'd tried to reach me while I was incarcerated, wondering why his Siha had not returned any of his letters. I had never been more angry with Hackett. My sacrifice; what I did for him was the only reason I'd been put away in the first place. I regretted the lives I ruined by destroying that relay every damned day, and the time I lost with Thane; now I had one more thing to add to that list. I couldn't believe after everything I did, they didn't tell me that he'd sent me letters. I'd received care packages from adoring fans, and hate mail from every corner of the galaxy, but they couldn't manage to give me the correspondence that would have actually meant something to me? Maybe that was just my hazard to bear, having fallen in love with an infamous assassin.

I turned my head toward the soft knock at the threshold of my room; there was no door. Very modern architecture, which struck me as odd. Anderson seemed like such an old-fashioned type of guy.

"People are starting to show up, Lola."

Vega's voice was quieter than usual. He had respectfully declined attending the memorial, but had showed up later to help Glyph and I prepare for the big party, knowing I'd be a wreck for a while following the service. I was as strong a woman as I believe they came, but even I could do only so much, and the lapses in my façade were becoming more frequent in the wake of Thane's death. Everyone has a breaking point, I guess.

My breath came out in a haggard sigh, and Vega crossed the space between my bedroom and bathroom. When he reemerged, he dropped my makeup bag down beside me on the bed, and squeezed my hand.

"I'll tell them you'll be down in 10."

Nodding, I whispered a thank you, even though he was already out the door and probably hadn't heard it.

What I thought was going to be horribly hard was actually a blessing in disguise. Seeing all of my friends and confidantes together, socializing, getting along...it was a lovely experience. I thought I'd have to drown my sorrows in liquor and pretend to enjoy myself, but I was actually drinking happily and joking as if nothing was wrong. The Reapers didn't exist that night, it was just me and my closest friends enjoying each other's company; even those who didn't normally get along.

As the night wore on, and long-awaited intoxication set in, I began to notice something strange about Vega. Every time I turned to say something to him, or happened to catch him in my periphery, he was turning away from me. Kind of like he'd already been looking, but didn't want to get caught. One time, when everyone else had been arguing about what skin colors were more attractive on Asari, including Liara, I turned to to tell Joker something, and noticed him staring. I kept his gaze, trying to imagine why he kept ogling me, or if I was imagining the whole thing. Then he winked, and turned back to Zaeed, continuing some previous conversation. Did I have something in my hair? Was my boob hanging out? This new dress was awfully low cut. I looked down, nearly spilling my drink everywhere. Nope, no nip-slip.

"Commander, what are you doing?"

I looked back up at Joker, who was staring at me, probably wondering why the hell I was checking out my own breasts.

"Do I have something on my face?"

Joker scoffed. "Yeah, a really dumb look."

I rolled my eyes. "No, seriously. Vega keeps looking at me."

Joker laughed for a while, until I punched him in the arm for him to stop.

"Ow! No reason to get handsy, Commander. The alliance has rules about that, you know."

Taking another swig of my drink, I retorted "Yeah, they do. But we're not on the Normandy, and this is kind of the end of the world. I think they can make some exceptions. Now, why were you laughing at me?"

He leaned in closer then, as if he didn't want anyone to hear what he was about to divulge.

"Dude, are you blind? Vega has the hots for you, big time."

My jaw must have hit the floor. I glanced at Vega again, who was still talking to Zaeed, but Jack had joined the conversation. There was no way he had a crush on me. I was older, and not to mention, his commanding officer. We'd been through a lot; and I mean, a lot, but that didn't mean he felt for me as more than just a close friend. I said as much to Joker, and he scoffed, drinking the last of what was in his own glass.

"Look Shepard, I'm crippled, but I'm not an idiot, and I'm also a dude. He's kind of in love with you. Deal with it."

And with that, he took EDI with him to the kitchen to refresh his drink.

Though the alcohol was giving me some issues processing that little gem of information, I tried thinking back and fitting pieces together to see if Joker's words held any weight. James had been assigned to essentially be my baby sitter while I was under alliance supervision. During that time we'd become good friends; he even told me about getting in a fight with a bunch of Batarians during a poker game over my innocence after their entire race had demanded me be brought to justice for destroying their relay to delay the Reapers. After my release, Anderson had assigned him to the Normandy, and I'd never been able to decide if it was for Vega's benefit, or just because the old man wanted to keep an eye on me.

In any case, we were just good friends, right? James knew I'd been in a relationship while incarcerated, albeit not with whom until after Thane's death, and the elevator incident. I shuddered, the memories of that day, and my breakdown still fresh in my mind. I'd only thought to call him because I trusted him, and knew he was built to deal with me in that condition. He'd come for me without hesitation. He'd know exactly how to handle me; what to do, what to say...it was eerie, thinking back on it now. He'd wiped the snot off my face with his shirt and put it back on.

Wait. He wiped snot off my face with his shirt. And put it back on. He wiped snot.

Oh Spirits. Maybe he did have a crush on me.

Did he always stare at me like that, and I'd just never noticed, or was it just tonight? What was I supposed to do if he did have feelings me? I couldn't love him. I couldn't love anyone, not anyone but Thane, at least in the foreseeable future. James was my friend. My very attractive, sweet, Spanish drawled, nurturing friend. With really sexy tattoos. And big, bad guy crushing muscles. Okay, that must have been the alcohol talking. What was I thinking? What kind of a shitty person was I, fantasizing about a subordinate shortly after the memorial service for my boyfriend? It had been a long time since I'd had sex. Way too long. Thane had been so sick by the time I was released...

No. Enough. This train of thought ends now.

But why? It's the end of the world. This party was the last hoorah. The last time we would all have to see each other before it could all be over. Before we risked our lives to save everyone who wasn't able. So, why not? Why not have a night of stringless fun, with a friend who understood everything that was at risk? Why not?

The booze made up my mind. I was tired of letting this Reaper bullshit dictate everything in my life. I was going to go for it. It's not like I had anything to lose anymore. Slugging down what was left in my glass, I set it down on the low table in front of me and headed in James' direction. Flanking his left from behind, I whispered "What's so funny, soldier?"

He startled out of his laughter and spun sideways toward me. "Woah, Lola. Where'd you come from?"

I "accidentally" brushed my breast up against his arm as I stood on tiptoe to reach his ear.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

A deep blush bloomed upon his cheeks, making his skin an impossibly more attractive color than before. I wasn't worried about being so brazen with him in front of my team. Not only did I trust them all to keep their mouths shut through thick and thin, shameless but mostly innocent flirting with not just me, but everyone, was Vega's calling card. It wouldn't be behavior anyone wasn't already expecting. Jack was quick to call out his embarrassment, pointing an over-inked finger in his direction.

"You blushin', tough guy? If all it takes is a boob swipe to get your motor running, you must be a really easy sell."

Zaeed laughed heartily and fist bumped the psychotic biotic. It made me wonder when they'd become such good friends. Not that I was surprised, they were pretty much picture perfect for each other, as far as their charming personalities went.

"That was a good one, Bitch." Zaeed grumbled, still laughing.

James' blush had already dissipated. He was easy to embarrass, but he got over it quickly and didn't take innocent banter personally. It's what made it so easy to get a fun rise out of him.

"That's what I'm here for, old man. Now quit staring at my tits."

My eyes cut to Zaeed, whose turn it was to blush; though you could hardly tell with the scars. Mumbling something about revealing clothing under his breath, he finished his drink and moved on toward the kitchen, leaving the three of us standing in a chummy semi-circle with Jack snickering to herself. Voicing my question from earlier, I asked Jack when she and Zaeed had started getting along so well. She shrugged in response, eyes wandering back to the man himself, who still had his tail between his legs in the kitchen.

"I dunno. We just kind of clicked back when we were all with Cerberus. We still talk every now and then. His stories are funny. Knows when to shut up though, unlike someone I know."

I rolled my eyes at her reference to our old chats in engineering. I had been trying to help her come out of her shell; show her that not everyone sucked. I was glad to see some of it had stuck.

"Hey, Jack. Wrex says he'll kiss Grunt if you can beat him at arm wrestling."

Jack, Vega, and I all turned our heads toward Joker, who was in the wet-bar lounge with several others, waiting for Jack's reply. Chugging the rest of her drink, she slammed the glass down on the nearest end table and roared "You're on, scale-butt. Hope you've got your lipstick ready!" before jogging off in their direction, leaving James and I notably alone. Vega shifted his gaze my way, conspicuously sizing me up.

"Nice dress."

I rolled my eyes, smiling wide up at him.

"Yeah, must be. You've been looking at it all night."

He made a dismissive noise into his glass and scoffed "Please, Lola. I've told you before not to flatter yourself."

I moved in front of him to shield my actions from the rest of the room, and reached out to grab his belt loop, using it to slowly pull him closer.

"I don't have to, you flatter me plenty."

Our proximity was making him visibly uncomfortable; good, that's what I wanted. The faster I could make him antsy enough to leave the room, the easier this was going to be. He tentatively looked down at the finger connecting me to his trousers, and glanced around the room, to assumedly make sure we didn't have an audience, before returning his gaze to mine.

"Woah, Lola."

His tone painted him calm and collected, but his Adam's apple bobbing with a forceful swallow said otherwise.

"H-how much have you tossed back?"

Pressing my hips lightly against his BDU's; he hadn't bothered trying to dress it up, I chided "Vega, you and I both know this has nothing to do with liquor."

I heard him clear his throat as he set his now empty glass on a nearby table, ice tinkling.

"Look, I don't want to upset you, but just a few hours ago, I was worried I'd have to scrape you out of bed and make you up myself, you were so upset. I don't want to take advantage of someone whose emotions are so shot to shit."

Before I could stop it, anger bubbled its way up from somewhere deep within, and I snapped "Never presume to know what condition my emotions are in, Lieutenant."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt sorry, and the look on his face stung. The brief temper flare had already fizzled out. It had been a gut reaction, not something lasting, and probably me projecting my own slight guilt on to him. I had to make him stop looking at me like a puppy I'd just swatted on the nose. Re-establishing the contact I'd broken during my outburst, my hands returned to his body. One rested lightly at the base of his hip, and the other was fluttering across the tattoo that curled from his neck and down his arm with a mind of its own. I imagined what it would feel like to be crushed against him by those arms...

I needed to think of something to say, and fast, or I was liable to strip him down and have him on my fancy new coffee table in front of all our closest friends and associates.

"You mentioned something about taking advantage of me? I wouldn't go making me promises you don't intend on keeping."

That got a grin out of him, but I watched it fade as soon as it had appeared, a grimace now firmly stacked there on his face instead.

"Lola, I know you can't really want to do anything with me. You just lost someone you loved. Like, for real loved."

I sensed disappointment in his voice, and in that moment I knew everything Joker said had been true. Vega did have feelings for me. He wanted to be the lover that was still alive for me, but he wasn't, and he never would be.

I had misjudged James, and it made me a little sad. A part of me thought that he would have no qualms with having a little fun simply because he was attracted to me. I never thought he'd go all altar boy about it. It made me feel a little guilty...but that didn't last long. Repeating my actions from earlier that had made him so nervous, I rose onto the balls of my feet and leaned my chest up against him to speak directly in his ear.

"James, it's the end of the fucking world, and yeah, I lost someone really important to me, but if I let that shut me down any longer, then the Reapers win. Fuck regulations, fuck ideals. When it all comes down to living or dying in this war, none of that matters anymore."

I pulled away from his ear to look into his eyes. He was blushing again, and thinking very hard about something but keeping his usually big mouth shut. I continued, murmuring "I just want to feel something."

He had me by the arm and was leading us away so fast, I nearly knocked over the end table we'd been standing next to. Once we were out of sight, he pushed me into a wall around the corner, lips immediately crashing into mine. I hadn't expected him to be so forceful after the boy scout episode, but imagined the alcohol was probably helping him sort out his moral dilemmas. His hands on my arms were rough and calloused from a life of hard work, and probably all the pull-ups I caught him doing, but his thick, pouty lips were angel soft. While exploring their topography, my tongue found the tiniest scar and I nipped at it, pushing a moan to come fluttering out of Vega's lungs. Licking my own swollen lips, I said, "Mmm, I like loud boys."

He was pinning me with his chest now, hands off my arms and on the wall behind us.

"What am I gonna do with you, dirty girl?"

His growling words in my ear made me shiver, and not because I was cold.

"You're gonna take me to my room and fuck me, big boy."

The world spun; I was up and over his shoulder in a glorious instant, and he deftly navigated through the living room, which had cleared out. The arm-wrestling match in the lounge must have been a doozy, because there wasn't anyone in the kitchen either.

My head very nearly missed the wall when he tossed me down onto my bed. I recovered quickly, rising to my knees and reaching back to unzip the vinyl nightmare of a dress I was wearing. Picking up where I stopped, James grabbed at the hem and jerked my dress upward and off of me completely. Now, in nothing but my underwear, I could focus on his clothing. He had me beat to his shirt, it was on the floor before I even knew he had taken it off.

I had seen him without a shirt on a plethora of times before, but in this new context it was different. I stared unabashedly, drinking in his deliciously swollen upper body that he'd covered in art, rendering it that much more attention pulling. I had always loved tattoos, both on men and women; its part of what endeared me to Jack.

I reached up, shamelessly raking my nails down his chest, digging them into the hem of his pants and yanking him toward me. I had his trousers down to his knees when he stopped me, grabbing my face in one hand and forcing it in front of his. His breathing was haphazard at best. Just as my jaw was starting to ache from the pressure of his fingers, his lips found mine again. Not as forceful now, but infinitely more deliberate and sensual. His lips molded to mine like liquid chocolate pouring on a cherry. I couldn't bring myself to stop drinking him in.

While I was focusing on our tongues, he had finished stripping from the waist down, and had begun pawing at my breasts through the fabric of my bra. I threw my head back and he buried his face below my collarbone, licking and sucking the valley where my breasts met. My fingers curled in his short hair, and I pulled him fully on the bed with me. He made quick work of the bra snap behind my back, and I took my turn burying my face in the crook of his bulging neck and biting at the skin I found there. A hiss flew past his lips as I tightened my mouth's grip on him. I had no qualms about marking him up.

Wedging his hand between us, he caught me by the shoulder with bruising force, and I fell back against the covers. He didn't have qualms either, apparently. My eyes wandered south, finally able to get a glimpse of what he was operating with, and damn, was he blessed. His length wasn't markedly impressive, but he had the thickest cock I'd ever seen. If I had been a gambling woman, I would bet I wasn't entirely ready for him. But it was too late to worry about that now.

His hand found my sex, cupping it before ghosting his fingers at the hem teasingly. My head fell back as he slipped a digit in, breath leaving my lungs in rugged mews while he curled his finger to toy with my g-spot. This was so far from fair, he was having all the fun. I sat up and inched toward him, cocking his now two fingers at a lovely angle, and closed my hand around his impressive girth. My thumb and forefinger didn't quite meet. His breath caught and I watched his eyes roll back as I stroked him, keeping my grasp firm. His fingers were still working me tirelessly closer to an orgasm, and I barely convinced my hand not to help him along. A tiny drop of pre-cum had found its way on to my hand. Looking him in the eye, I licked it off lovingly.

"I don't want to come unless you're inside of me."

He said nothing, but acknowledged my request by ceasing the work of his fingers, and ordering me to remove my panties. I did as told, letting him force me backward with his body. He positioned himself just outside of my entrance, and propped one of my legs straight up against his shoulder, before pushing carefully into me. I was very wet, but not wet enough to be able to ignore the pressure of him pushing my walls to breaking point. I held my breath, letting it out only as he pulled away from me. By the second thrust, the pain was gone, and warmth invaded my already blushing cheeks. My leg strained against him as he found his rhythm, but the pain felt surprisingly good. One of his hands was supporting him by resting at the base of my neck, and the pressure made my breath come out haggard; my moans straining for freedom.

"I want to see you touch yourself, Lola."

I nodded and acquiesced, working myself like I did when I was alone. I was dangerously close to coming undone. All it took was him ordering me to come for him. My whole body tightened and released; the only sound that escaped me was the breath I'd been holding for who knows how long as it raced outward.

When I could think again, I pulled away from him, panting, and guided him on his back. He looked up at me quizzically, as if he'd never had a woman on top. Maybe his bad boy ego hadn't allowed it until now. His mouth opened wide, head burying itself backwards into my pillows as I lowered myself slowly onto him. For a while I moved for is benefit, my rhythmic pace alternating speed methodically. After a while I began to feel my own need rise up again, and I couldn't stop myself from wantonly grinding myself down into his hips. He was now making gorgeous little high-pitched gasping noises that were helping force me closer and closer to my breaking point. When it finally did happen, I was not as quiet as during my first. In fact, James was nice enough to slap a hand over my mouth while using the other to jack hammer my hips down onto him. I felt him tighten underneath me finally, his mouth open in a nearly inaudible scream.

When my eyes opened to sunlight filling my apartment, Vega was gone, and the last thing I remembered was passing out panting in his arms. My ears picked up faint laughter and chit-chat emanating just outside of my room; probably from the kitchen. Somebody mentioned something about eggs. Memories from last night fluttered in my mind, but were disjointed like trying to recall scenes a movie you haven't seen in a long time. It was always like that after I'd had too much to drink. I started to feel the pinch of a hangover headache bloom smack in the middle of my forehead and groaned, but other than that I felt amazing. Sore, but amazing. It had been such a long time since I had been able to truly let loose and have a good time. The pain Thane's absence caused me had quieted to a dull roar, for now, but I knew better than to think it was done with me completely. And a part of me didn't want it to be. It was like, giving myself time and actually allowing myself to mourn his passing even though it hurt, a lot, was what kept him alive in my mind. I was going to love and miss him until the day I died, but I knew he wouldn't want me to put my life on hold for him now that he was gone. Hell, he wouldn't even let me do it when he was still around. A warm, fat tear rolled down my cheek, and I was startled out of my thoughts by Vega knocking on my door frame again, holding a plate of eggs and a glass of orange juice. Pretending to stretch, I rolled my face into the comforter to wipe the runaway tear off before he could see it.

He let out a high-pitched whistle. "Ooh, Lola. You look like hell."

I smirked and sat up, flipping him the bird. "Yeah, no thanks to you."

He blushed and set the food and juice down on my nightstand, before sitting down in front of me on the bed and resting a hand lightly on my sheet-clad leg. "Listen, Shepard, about last night..."

I waved his mouth shut before chugging half the glass of orange juice, and replied "Vega, I told you last night was just for fun. I meant it. You don't have to worry about me getting confused or feeling guilty about it. We had a good time."

He smiled, visibly relieved. "Hell yeah, we did. And maybe if we come out of this Reaper parade still kicking, we can 'have fun' again some time."

I leaned forward and planted a chaste kiss on his lips, then another on his forehead. "I'd like that."