Prompt from the ME Kink Meme. I'm not going to post it here since it basically gives the entire story away.
Started writing this a while back, hopefully I get back to it.
Pairings: Garrus/Ashley, past MShepley, Liara/MShepard
Setting: Post ME1, Pre ME2
Noetic Dossiers
There were a few times in her life where she would sit back and wonder if some sick joke or some cruel twist of fate was responsible for her short comings.
This is one of them.
The back of her eyelids are flaming red when awareness sets in, and she reluctantly opens her eyes, pupils constricting painfully to the light. She blinks a few times, and only realizes that her arms are high above her head when she reaches to rub the sleep from her eyes. Only to realize that she can't move them.
Ashley looks up abruptly, senses heightened all of a sudden, and both of her hands are cuffed to the wall. She feels a draft, looks down, and realizes she's in her bare minimum- bra, boy shorts, and holstered to her side, a pistol.
Well, at least there's that.
Ashley looks up again, rubs her wrists together to no avail. She can't pull her hand through, it's almost like the cuffs were made specifically for her and despite the primitive position, the metal is cool to the touch, the design sleek. She tries looking around- the floor is hard, reflective. All she could see is bright white light, and further beyond that, darkness.
Whatever the hell this was, she sure wasn't amused, or impressed for that matter. "Hey!" She calls out into the distance. "You're lucky you have me chained right now because I swear when I find out who you are, I'm putting one in your skull!" She tugs her wrists, uselessly again after her declaration, not really expecting an answer back.
Except somewhere in the darkness, an answer comes. A strangled screech sounding worse than the death of ten varren reaches her ears and crawls down her spine and it's quite apparent that she's not the only living thing in here. If she wasn't cuffed, half drugged, and out of her wits, she would just be annoyed, but seeing as that's not the case, Ashley winces at the sound, bends her knees upward in a futile attempt to block herself. She looks down at the gun still at her side, long and hard. She already figured that geth didn't do this, unless they were some perverse geth with a sick sense of death. No, this was something far more sinister than what a geth could concoct on its own.
"Shit." The Gunnery Chief mutters to herself, eyes still trained beseechingly on that damn pistol. Why leave her bare and armed with a weapon? Another screech rattles her eardrums, following a series of clicks, and she can't help the shudder running through her body- what the fuck is that?
Without warning, the cuffs unlock and she pulls her hands down, rubbing one of her reddened wrists. Another screech and click, this one much louder than the other two, sounds directly in front of her and she's on her feet, the pistol in her hands and trained out front. Adrenaline courses through her veins as she steps out into a tentative run, ready to face anything.
All she hears after a while is the constant drum of her heart in her ears, and the slapping of the bare soles of her foot against the ground. Her eyes are squinted, trained on finding something, anything, to guide her down this seemingly never-ending corridor.
Whether or not it's to her relief or horror, the corridor eventually ends. The walls surrounding her are actually scaling mirrors and she could see herself, eyes wide in panic. She takes a breath, checks the magazine on her pistol, something she failed to do upon moving, and heads down the next corridor on her right. She maintains a steady jog, pistol held out in front, and there's another sharp turn, another hallway to go down.
She doesn't stop moving; there's something- someone –else here and the only way she's at the advantage is coming across it –them- first.
Ashley comes across another sharp turn, scales the wall closely, and tiptoes to the edge. She waits a moment, and then another, and there's this clicking sound on the floor, approaching. Her hand is steady, but her eyes dart and narrow in consideration.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Her finger stills on the trigger, the cool calm associated with the normalcy prior to a mission settling over her, and she leans forward slightly, ever so slightly…
Fingers wrap around her mouth and a silent scream bubbles up her throat that doesn't make it past her vocal folds. She's pulled back quietly and her wrists are clasped together and it takes her a moment to realize that the fingers over her mouth are too long, too angular, too stiff. She hears a reassuring shush beside her ear, warm breath tickling her lobe, and she takes a breath, looks down at the talons clasping her wrists together and the ones over her lips pull away, assured that she won't scream. She looks back and up, and she's never been so happy to see him.
"Garrus," Ashley whispers, and her eyes get drawn back to his chest. His very unarmored and exposed chest, all sleek angles descending downward-
Her eyes snap up while she crosses her arms self-consciously still holding her pistol and suddenly finding the mirrorlike walls more interesting. "What the hell is going on?" She frowns, and even though it's more of a rhetoric question, she was still expecting an answer.
Instead, she gets a tug on the arm from Vakarian and he's gesturing to the left, unsheathing a shotgun of his own. She looks down at her own pistol, and frowns. Why the hell does she have the girly gun?
With his two front talons, he makes a steady invisible line away from his face, and then a cutting motion to her left, and no, hell no, that's a terrible idea because this is obviously a labyrinth with which they have no idea of an exit or an obstacle to face. She makes a cutting motion to her neck, and then gestures that they head back where they came because something is here, something possibly very large, loud, and dangerous and it'll get the jump on them if they're not careful unless they get the jump on it first.
Vakarian shakes his head, makes the same motions again, and dammit, doesn't he understand that there's something in there with them? She starts shaking her head in disagreement and looks back, and Garrus grabs her arm, stilling. Before she can even ask, she hears something in the distance and the walls in the direction they came from close in, section by section. They start running, turning the corner, and the corridor shortens, replaced by a glass wall as if it didn't exist. A new section opens up and Garrus extends his arm forward in a gesture that clearly says ladies first.
Smart ass turian.
She shakes her head before training her pistol out in front.
Okay, so what does she remember?
She remembers Chora's Den, she remembers the Citadel and how life moved on above the rubble.
She remembers Virmire and how her life over ended. How Kaidan's life actually did.
She focuses –Chora's Den. Everyone –Shepard, Liara, Wrex, and even young Tali, were there. She and Vakarian were there. They were asked there on the behalf of a few C-Sec officers after the relief effort a week after Sovereign and Shepard thought they could use the rest.
"Sir, there's been a report of geth activity in the Terminus System," Ashley says needlessly because this is information Shepard has already been briefed on. "We should focus on that."
Shepard's brow rises, ash smudged on his cheek, and the air feels like it's been sucked from her lungs. "Questioning my decision, Chief?"
"Not at all, Skipper," She affirms quickly. Too quickly.
"But?" Shepard ventures.
"No buts," Ashley continues. "It's just that we've been on the Citadel for a week-"
"Providing help for the relief effort," Shepard interjects dismissively.
"And we've been sitting on this report for almost that long, and I know that it's important to help the civilians here-"
"But?" Shepard ventures once again knowingly, lips upturned into a smirk.
Ashley huffs, lips set in a line. Damn. "But," She sighs. "The Citadel has C-Sec and the Council. We should be-"
"Fighting the good fight where we're needed, rushing out into another situation without consideration of the intel or the concern of the crew, is that right?" Shepard monotones humorlessly and there's a spark in his eyes that's gone, lifelessness in his tone that almost make her shudder. "It's been six months since Akuze, Williams. How long has it been since Virmire?"
She's speechless, chokes out a cough before answering. "13 days, Shepard."
"13 days," Shepard echoes, and suddenly she can understand where he's going with it. He turns his back, crosses his arms with his head raised in thought, "I have a feeling, Ash. I can't shake it, and I don't even know what it is, but I have a feeling." It's a long moment before he says anything else, and it takes less than that to feel ashamed of even saying anything at all. He's gotten them this far, what would give her the inclination to even wonder what his reluctance to moving on to the next mission would be?
Truthfully, she was antsy. A shore leave right now, even an unofficial one, just didn't sit right with her. She has to prove herself, she has to keep proving herself, and keeping relations to the Council races on the Citadel was the furthest thing on her mind right now. But he's right, she knows he is. He's always right. Jumping in from one mission to another, the thought of rest notwithstanding.
It's suicidal.
She moves closer to him inadvertently, a hand raised to go on his shoulder, "Skipper, I-"
"Shepard," A light and dainty voice murmurs from up front, and Ashley lowers her hand. T'Soni has a small smile when she faces the Commander, and out of respect, nods in acknowledgement to Ashley. Ashley nods back on default. Liara faces Shepard once more, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's something I need to show you, if you can come with me?"
Shepard looks back, giving a small smile, "We'll talk later Williams."
"Yes sir," She nods back, and her eyes trail his silhouette as he heads to the Embassy with the doctor by his side.
"You know," She hears a breathy baritone behind her. "He's only thinking of you."
She snaps to attention and looks over her shoulder, and as always, Vakarian's at her six. Her lips quirk to the side and she sighs. "I doubt that."
The turian leans against the remaining part of the rail bordering the lake, and she'd rather not talk to him. She'd rather not talk at all, to be honest. She settles on sweeping up some of the dust with the broom she was using still in hand, and yeah, she knows how pathetic she looks right now.
"The down in the dumps look doesn't work for you, Williams," Vakarian says wryly.
Ashley bites her lower lip, hiding a grimace, "But I guess the I have to stick nose in everyone's business look works perfectly fine for you, huh?"
Garrus' mandibles flare out into a grin. "Touché, Williams. Glad to see you still have your bite."
She stands beside her broom indignantly. "Isn't there something else you could do right now? A C-Sec officer you could tell all of your planetside adventures to, or a vehicle in need of calibrations?"
"I'm afraid I've regaled everyone I know about my time with the commander," Garrus says with ease, not bothering to take offense to Ashley's tone. He approaches slowly, "And as for calibrations," His mandibles flare again as if some sort of inside joke that Ashley wasn't aware of was told, "I've done all I can. Unfortunately, I can't calibrate what's already been calibrated."
She stares up at him, long and hard, and his face is open and clear and calm. After a long pause, Ashley's shoulders slump and her eyes soften. "Sorry," She says, though not entirely sure why. No, wait, she knows. "I've been a bit of an ass lately."
Garrus remains silent, and the gunnery chief rolls her eyes. "I've been a lot of an ass lately," She concedes.
"Understandably so," Garrus murmurs soothingly, and Ashley cocks her head.
"I just think that we should be out there, especially since the Citadel has more or less stabilized since Sovereign," Ashley mutters, grip on the broom causing her knuckles to go white.
"And I think that Shepard wants to make sure you're ready to go back out there, considering everything that's happened," Garrus tilts his head in a considering fashion, regarding the woman in front of him carefully.
Ashley's expression darkens peering up at the agent. "I'm a big girl, Vakarian. I can take care of myself, and when you see him again, make sure you let Shepard know that."
She moves to walk away, do something else, go somewhere else, but then talons reach out and curl gently over her bicep and an increasingly small part of her wants to be freaked out by it, despite the fact that he's wearing gloves. A larger part knows by now that he means no harm, but she still looks at it all the same with bated breath and even a bit of curiosity.
He only has his hand on her for a moment to stop her, and misinterpreting her expression, promptly takes a step back after her stops her. "No one questions whether or not you're capable, chief. Shepard's just being cautious this time around."
"Well I don't appreciate being coddled, and it's not like I'm some sort of loose cannon that's seconds away from being tipped over the edge. I'm fine." Ashley seethes and regards Garrus with conviction because she wants him to know how serious she really is. It explains how and why everyone's reacting to her the way they are, as if she didn't know that things could've ended up being very different less than two weeks ago.
Garrus crosses his arms, and at one point, Ashley would've been intimidated by that seemingly impassive visage, but she was far beyond that. "Well, in that case, I guess you know you're leaving tomorrow," He says nonchalantly, and Ashley's eyes widen exponentially.
"What?"
He shrugs, a humanlike gesture, clear blue eyes looking away into the distance. "Shepard told me last night."
"Skipper told you?"
Garrus' brow plate rises with the nickname. "Skipper?"
Ashley dismisses that with a wave of her hand. "That's not important. Shepard-"
"Sounds important," Garrus says offhandedly, and Ashley backpedals. The sonofabitch is making fun of her.
"It's not important Vakarian," Ashley hisses, and then paces back, and paces forth. "Why the hell would Skipper tell you?" She mutters.
"Well, I'm a very genial person-"
"You're not even part of the Normandy officially, hell, you're not even part of the Alliance!" She continues.
"Shepard did say he considered me an honorary crew member," Garrus remarks calmly with a nod of his head.
"And after all that talk, why not just tell me to quit making an ass out of myself and settle down because we were moving out?" She hooks the tip of her thumb to the bottom of her tooth in thought.
"Shepard probably wouldn't have said that to you," Garrus answers amiably. "At least in that context. And I'm sure he was just waiting until tonight-"
"And why wait until later to talk when he could've just said it?" Ashley continues to pace, ignorant of Garrus' answers.
"We're going to Chora's Den tonight, all of us," Garrus says.
Ashley stops and acknowledges his presence for the first time in a few minutes. "What did you say?"
"Shepard wanted the crew, honorary members as well, to be together for one more night, and since Chora's Den was one of the few areas that was left untouched-"
"You've got to be kidding me," Ashley rolls her eyes. Shepard knows how she feels about that place, considering the fact that she hasn't be less than vocal about it. "I've got to go," She says, rushing off.
With a shake of his head, Garrus watches her move off into the distance. "Nice to see you too, Williams."
Further off into the distance across the Presidium, an eye backs away from the scope, breathing into his comm. "Sir, I've apprehended visual on the targets. The Normandy boards in the morning; this may be our only chance before the window closes."
A pause is heard on the other side of the line- the extension long enough to be the slow drag of a Cuban cigar, "Excellent. I want them in custody by the end of the night. Then, implement phase one. We need this contained, and quiet. No mistakes. And Shepard cannot, under any circumstance, know."
"Understood," the answer comes as the scope trails the silhouette footsteps of one Garrus Vakarian.
TBC...
DAC