A/N: Characters belong to Bioware, but how I wish they were mine. Also, this fic doesn't tie into my other Citadel related one, Aftermath.
Unlike my other multi-chaptered fics, I'm not starting this because I felt this DLC was a disappointment or something didn't occur in-game. This was my favorite DLC, hands down, with the mission and the clone, the interactions with your friends and love interest afterwards (definitely a fan of the Garrus/Shepard tango :D), and the party.
When I first thought of the initial idea for this fic, I honestly didn't think I could make it work. But my muse being as stubborn as it is, it wouldn't let the idea go and badgered me to just take the plunge. So, here we are and we'll see how it all turns out. Please let me know what you think of it as we go along!
Doppelgänger: a person's counterpart in the form of a spectral vision; an alter ego or double; in popular culture, frequently depicted as the darker double of a person
-1-
When Hackett e-mailed her about Anderson offering her an apartment, she never thought it would be as massive as it was when she walked in the door. Sure, the man had been humanity's representative on the Council, but he never struck her as the type of person who wanted anything more than the basic essentials.
Shepard dropped her overnight bags on the floor beside the door, taking in how warm and inviting the apartment seemed. It was so bright, many watts brighter than most areas on the Normandy, especially her cabin. She could only stare on in amazement just at this opening area. A grand piano at her side, keys shining in the light, practically begging to be played. A fire going in the fireplace at the center of the room, crackling and snapping with a shelf of actual paper books above it. The floor to ceiling windows made the apartment seem even larger than it already was. There was even her little own forest of plants and trees behind glass to her right.
"Commander, I've got Admiral Anderson on the QEC," Traynor's voice resounded around the room from seemingly nowhere. Probably came from the vid-screen to her left. "Patching him through now."
Shepard issued a thanks to Traynor, who was the only one staying behind on the Normandy during their mandatory five-day shore leave, with her having helped with the Normandy retrofits back on Earth. Traynor had insisted she didn't mind staying aboard, but Shepard did get her to promise to take a break once the Alliance techs finished.
This would be their final opportunity before heading to Cerberus headquarters, the first phase to liberating Earth from Reaper occupation.
Shepard punched a few buttons on the console below the vid-screen, Anderson's image revealing itself a moment later.
"Shepard." This was the first time she had seen him outside of the form of a holo-image. She could see the strain in the lines of his face, the sunken eyes all the more clearly, but she also saw the fight in him, to not let the lack of sleep or the stress get to him.
"Anderson," she said, welcoming the sight of him in one piece. "How are you holding up?"
"Day by day, Commander."
"Yeah." She definitely heard that, with all the ups and downs she had experienced during this war. "Hackett sent me a message about this apartment."
"I want you to have it. Take it off my hands."
Shepard stared at him incredulously, thinking for a moment she hadn't heard him right or that he was pulling her leg. "Are you serious?"
"You need a place that's yours. Somewhere to recharge, clear your head."
Even if it is only realistically for a few days, she wanted to ask.
She silently scolded herself. She couldn't think like that.
Shepard headed towards the back of the room, past the fireplace, hitting the button to pull up the blinds along the way, letting in even more light from the marquee signs across the way.
Anderson continued on as she walked, her feet leading her to a bar and lounge area with another, much larger vid-screen, probably for actual vid-watching. Anderson's image appeared on this one so she could still talk to him face to face. "Kahlee wanted us to settle down there. Thing is, the longer I'm on Earth, the less I want to leave. And I want as few loose ends out there as possible. Like I said, you'd be doing me a favor."
Shepard still couldn't believe his offer. Well, she could, but that didn't stop her from feeling guilty about taking it. She knew Anderson, though. He wouldn't take "no" for an answer. "That's very generous," she replied instead.
"It's practical," Anderson stated, not looking to regret the loss of the apartment one bit. "We need you in the best shape possible. Rested, focused." Especially now in the final stretch, she could sense he left unspoken.
"If you say so. Thank you."
"And make yourself at home, damn it," Anderson insisted. "It's yours now."
Shepard leaned over, looking down the hall at what looked to be another bar, some kind of card table, another fireplace, and shelves upon shelves of bound books. Not to mention how spacious the kitchen looked. Vega would have a field-day cooking there. "I'm sure I can manage."
"Good," Anderson said, relieved that was one less thing to worry about. "I've been meaning to do that for awhile. I'll talk to you soon."
Shepard faced him, wanting to give him more than a simple word of caution, thank him for everything he had done for her, for taking her under his wing, but the time for those parting words wasn't there yet. With any luck, she wouldn't have to say them for a final time until years after this was all over. "Be careful out there, Anderson."
"You too, Shepard," Anderson said softly, shooting her a fatherly look of concern before signing off.
She strode back over to the door and grabbed her bags, ready to tour around the rest of the apartment, glancing into the bedroom on the bottom floor (which had a punching bag and pull-up bar) and the kitchen before heading upstairs. She still couldn't get over the size of this thing, even for two people. All of her squad could sleep in here, though they'd have to take turns between the beds and couches. Though as she explored the upper floor, she didn't think that would be much of an issue. There definitely would be enough space. Not that she planned on doing that. She'd be glad to have them over, hang out, but the others were staying in hotel accommodations set up by Hackett.
Except, of course, for Garrus.
Speaking of which, he should have finished up by now and be on his way. Even as the Alliance techs boarded, he still insisted on staying another hour to make sure the guns weren't messed with, finish up with last minute algorithms. She had tried telling him that even if he entered them, they might screw them up and he'd have to enter them again, but he wouldn't budge. Who was she to break her turian away from his calibrations?
She entered the bedroom on the left side of the hall, jaw almost dropping to the floor when she spotted the jacuzzi tub bubbling away. What didn't this place have?
An alcove to her right held a weapons bench fastened to the wall and a place to store her armor (if she had brought it). She hadn't needed to bring her two guns of choice (they certainly weighed down the one bag, especially with the Widow in there), but she still felt better having them nearby for the next few days. In case Cerberus decided to surprise them and attack again for a second time. Or even better, if the Reapers did. Still strange they didn't go for the Citadel right away, when cycle after cycle they did. Maybe that was a good sign?
She had to stop thinking about them. Harbinger, the Illusive Man, even if for a few days. This was her shore leave, maybe her last. She was going to make the most of it.
She was just storing her armor away when she heard a faint ping from the floor below that continued incessantly. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard an automated message play for her about a new message at her terminal.
Garrus, perhaps?
She took the stairs two at a time to the library/study, pulling up the message at her terminal. It was from Joker, inviting her to dinner at some sushi place on the strip nearby in about an hour and a half. That sounded like a good idea. She couldn't even remember the last time she had sushi. Liara had gone there once when they had been on the Citadel a month or so ago and she had raved about it, though apparently the ambiance was a major attraction, their floors actual fish tanks filled with fish from all corners of the galaxy.
Hopefully they took better care of their fish than she did. To be fair to herself, none had died since she had finally remembered to buy that automated feeder…about two weeks ago.
She heard another ring as she finished reading the message, this time coming from her omni-tool. She accepted the incoming vid-link and a rectangular vid-screen materialized above her wrist.
"Hey, big guy," she greeted at the sight of her turian. "You heading over yet? You're not going to believe the size of this apartment when you see it."
"Define soon by your standards." Upon closer inspection, she saw he was still in the main battery, rubbing his neck, looking at her apologetically with wide eyes. He just looked like someone who knew he was about to be in big trouble with his significant other. Lucky for him, he had fallen in love with one who wouldn't flip a gasket. At least right away.
Shepard crossed her free arm over her chest. "Alright, what did you do, Garrus?" she asked with a sigh.
Garrus shook off his ashamed act and pretended to look affronted. "Have a little faith, Jane."
"Oh, I do, no one I trust more. But I also know you too well. Let me guess, you insulted an Alliance technician and you have to do the checks yourself?"
Garrus ran his hand over his fringe now, back to having a chagrined expression on his face. "Not entirely. I was finishing up when he came in like he owned the place, demanding I leave and let him work. I was packing up while he began poking around and was just about to step out when he commented on how he found a major flaw in my algorithms and well…let's just say I may not have taken that well."
Shepard buried her face in her hand. "Garrus…"
"The best part is, after he stormed out, turns out he was right. Don't know how I missed it. It's a fairly simple fix, but it'll still take a little while longer." The sheepish look only deepened on his facial plates, his mandibles now twitching. "Sorry, Jane, I'll try to get done with it as soon as I can."
Shepard couldn't stop shaking her head. She didn't have the heart to be frustrated with him. This was so typical Garrus and she wouldn't have him any other way. "Don't worry about it, big guy, just get it done so we have nothing to worry about over our leave. And lucky for you, Joker invited me out for a night on the town in about an hour and a half, so you're not leaving me all by myself."
"Good to hear. Tell him not to keep you out too long. I've got plans for us tonight once I'm done."
Her eyebrow rose, lips forming in a flirtatious smile. "And what exactly do you plan on doing with me, Vakarian?"
He gave her his own wide grin, his eyes barely hiding his intentions. "That's for me to know and for you to find out, Shepard," he drawled, lowering his voice in a way he knew Shepard couldn't resist. "But I'll be bringing the good stuff." He reached down to hold up a wine bottle under his work station.
Shepard chuckled. It would definitely be a good night. "Looking forward to it, Garrus."
They signed off, with Garrus re-affirming his promise to get done as quickly as possible and Shepard giving him the access code to the apartment in case he finished early and she wasn't there.
Shepard blew air through her lips, playing with a few strands of hair falling into her eyes. Now how would she kill an hour and a half? Read one of those books Anderson had on the shelves? Watch a vid? Clean up her backlog of messages that she never deleted?
She was too wired to sit still. Maybe she'd go and explore this Silversun Strip area, check out the arena, maybe the casino. She hadn't played quasar in ages, a game she had a strong love-hate relationship with.
Decision made, she headed back upstairs to change into her Alliance crewwoman's outfit, feeling a little too warm to be wearing her hoodie. Once satisfied everything was stored away properly, she locked the door behind her, heading down the hallway to her private elevator.
The answer to how she would spend her time presented itself when her omni-tool beeped at her again just as she reached the elevator. Her brow furrowed when she saw the sender name flash on her tool. A Staff Analyst Maya Brooks from the Alliance. She was tempted to ignore it, but she honestly had nothing better to do with her time, so she accepted the link.
"Commander Shepard?" The dark-skinned woman was wearing standard officer uniform, cap and all. "My name is Maya Brooks. Excuse me…" She offered a quick salute. "Staff Analyst Maya Brooks. I work for Alliance intelligence. Are you out? Sorry if I'm interrupting anything. Didn't know if you were still on duty, not that I could really wait…I mean…" She seemed like she was struggling to take deep breaths.
Shepard stepped into the elevator while she continued talking to the woman, delaying pushing the down button. "It's alright, you're not interrupting. What's going on?" she assured the woman, who was struggling to calm herself down.
"Sorry, I'm used to working by myself at a desk, I don't really talk to many people, especially not the legendary Commander Shepard." She took another shaky breath to steady herself. "I know Cerberus has become a top priority for the Alliance and well, I think…I might have found something. In the Citadel Archives, that might be of use to you."
Shepard hadn't even known an archives existed, though it certainly made sense, with the thousands of years of history. All of it needed to be catalogued somewhere. "I should put you in touch with Admiral Hackett. He's organizing the assault on the Cerberus headquarters. He'd probably want to hear it himself."
Brooks bit hard on her lip, playing with it between her teeth, a habit all too similar to Shepard's. "It's not really something I can talk about on an unsecure channel. Nor is it something I can easily explain without something tangible backing it up." She gave a deep and weary sigh. "Truth is, I haven't technically found it yet. I know what I'm looking for, I just…can't get in without access."
"You need my Spectre code, then?" Shepard asked, filling in the blanks.
"Ye-yes, Commander," Brooks stuttered, looking like she expected Shepard would say no automatically. "I know it's not a lot to go on and I'm asking a lot, but could you just meet me outside the Archives? I can explain everything and you can judge for yourself whether it's worth the time."
She still had about an hour and twenty-five minutes to kill. Why not check it out, see if the intel could be of any use? What's the worst that could happen?
Shepard finally pushed the button to get the elevator moving. "Alright, give me the coordinates for the Archives, I'll meet you there."
She and her mercs hung in the shadows, waiting for the signal from Brooks to move into the Archives. Not only to find the vault she was looking for, but to set up the trap.
Shepard wouldn't know what hit her.
Even before the call to Shepard, Brooks had tried one more time to convince her to change the plan back to its original form with the straight-out assassination attempt. They were risking a lot to do it this way. There would be fewer complications to just let Shepard meet up with the pilot at the sushi restaurant, force her in the direction of the ambush at Cision Motors, make everything nice and clean.
Brooks had even tried arguing they were wasting resources (not that Brooks cared about their lives, just that they couldn't afford the drop in numbers), but she knew Shepard. Despite her inferiority, she would not go down without a fight. Those mercs would have died, anyways. What did it matter if it was by her hand or Shepard's?
She wouldn't broker any arguments. It had to be done this way.
Brooks would never understand, this need to know. Know why Shepard's crew followed her so fervently, without question, to abandon their duties so willingly to join the cult of Shepard.
She was superior to Shepard in every way. Shepard was nothing more than a tired old woman past her prime. She felt she could actually stop the Reapers and Cerberus, bring humanity to the forefront like it should have been. The opportunity Shepard missed, let pass her by when she first became the first human Spectre, the prime moment for humanity to assert its dominance in the galaxy and how did she spend it? Playing nice with the aliens!
Despite that, she couldn't shake it, that nagging feeling in the back of her mind, like something was missing. And she couldn't pinpoint it.
This was the only way to find out what that was, before she had Shepard's squad killed. Especially the aliens. Their accomplishments, their abilities, meant absolutely nothing to her. The thought of Shepard aiding them, willingly accepting their help, filled her with such disgust.
So lost in her thoughts, she hadn't heard the chime of her omni-tool at first.
A message from Brooks. She had reached Shepard and she was on her way.
Her hands curled around her rifle all the more tightly. She barked an order at her nearby lieutenant to ready the mercs for the infiltration into the Archives, told him to be quick about it or he'd be out on his ass before he could even blink.
She had been waiting for this day for months, to look the woman she was created from in the face, take pleasure in proving herself the true Commander Jane Shepard.
It wouldn't be much longer now.