This is dedicated to my partner in crime, Miyavilurver. Jeanne is her Shepard and in order to comfort each other in the difficult times of Mass Effect 3, we've written fics for each other. She begged me to upload some so I'll be posting a few up in these next couple days. Jeanne was in love with Thane for Mass Effect and is a Paragon Shepard. This takes place after Thane's death and the attack on the Citadel.
Jeanne was drunk. She made it a point to never drink so much but with the Normandy docked and running standard maintenance, she had time on her hands. Usually free time allowed her mind to wander. And her mind wandered to a certain drell. Needless to say, she needed that alcohol in her system, lest she lose herself in the pain.
So Jeanne Shepard found herself, six shots later, demanding the bartender for a seventh with a drunken slur. The bartender refused her another drink, saying she was done. When Jeanne was about to insist, she was grabbed.
"The hell-?" Two turians grabbed hold of her while a third told the bartender she'd be taken care of. Jeanne thrashed, but she was drunk and the turians had a tight hold on her.
The bar was spinning and the flashing lights did nothing for Jeanne's balance. She stumbled as the turians pulled her along, shouting obscenities the whole way down the stairs. But instead of throwing her out of the bar, she was taken to the VIP lounge and tossed onto the couch.
"S' your problem!" Jeanne growled, her head lolling a bit to the side as she glared at the turians.
"I told them to bring you here, Shepard." Aria spoke and Jeanne sat up, looking at the asari. She had a small sneer, barely noticeable.
"Oh yeah?" Jeanne put on her best challenging tone but the words meshed together and sitting up was difficult. Her head was light. She collapsed down again, her hair brushing against Aria's thigh. "The hell do you want…?" she muttered. "Another errand?"
"No. I've already gotten what I wanted from you." Aria said, sparing a glance down at the drunken commander. She leaned back in her seat, her arms stretched out on either side of her over the back of the couch.
"Then what-" Jeanne lifted her head to look at the asari but a strong hand pushed her head back down.
"Shut up and sleep, Commander." Aria said, letting go of the human's head and leaning back again. "I'm saving your reputation by not allowing you to make a fool of yourself in the Citadel's most popular bar. You should be thanking me."
"Doesn't matter…" Jeanne murmured, her eyes drooping. Her knees curled up slightly into her chest. "Nothing matters anymore."
Aria looked down her nose at the commander. She knew. Of course she knew. She knew everything when it came to Commander Shepard. The woman interested her greatly ever since she set foot on Omega. But it halfway disgusted her to see such a strong woman reduced to this. And for what? Lost love? Thane was dead. The Commander should move on.
And yet there she was, Jeanne Shepard, curled up and hammered drunk on her couch.
Aria narrowed her eyes before reaching down again twirling a finger in the commander's blonde locks. "Go to sleep, Commander. I'm sure he'll be waiting for you in your dreams."
Jeanne let out a strangled sob and shuffled closer, pressing the top of her head against Aria's leg. The asari didn't react as Jeanne cried until she passed out. And she didn't move until the commander showed signs of awakening hours later.
Jeanne would wake up about a foot away from Aria with no recollection of what she had said or what she had done. More importantly, what Aria had done for her. Commander Shepard would walk out of the bar, none the wiser, and Aria would let her.