This is a work of fiction and many of the characters that appear in the Mass Effect involved are the property of EA and Bioware.

Title: Chrysalis

Game: Mass Effect

Rating: M (for some language and certain scenes)

PART 1

Stepping out of the bathtub, she reached over and pulled a towel from the nearby rack and ran it quickly over her body before running it through her hair. Careful not to trip over her clothes, she walked over to the sink; grateful for the warm, humid air in the bathroom that felt wonderful against her skin. Over the past several months her body had begun picking up every single new sensation; some were tolerable while others caught her by surprise. The warmth of the bathroom was the sensation she enjoyed the most over the cool, circulated air that was filtered throughout the apartment. Taking the towel, she wiped away the condensation that had formed on the mirror and began her the daily ritual when she finally started her transition.

Dr. Farris had warned her about the changes she'd be going through, warnings that did little to prepare her for the results. She could barely recognize the person on the first page of her journal. Her face and lips had gotten a little fuller, her voice was higher, and except for the calluses from her training her skin was softer than she remembered and her acne had cleared up slightly. Not as much as she'd hoped; a few red marks from on her face was evidence of that, but enough that she didn't bitch to her mother about it as much which was a good thing since her mother was always on her case about learning to apply make-up to cover them up. She knew her mother meant well but she was more concerned with were the changes happening below her neck line.

Turning sideways, she let her eyes shift their focus to her formerly flat, now slightly curved chest. She took a moment to examine it for the minute changes that only she saw. At first the changes had been subtle, but now nearly six months into her therapy there were things that she could no longer ignore. She noticed that the skin around her nipples had grown a slight shade darker than they were a few days ago, and that compared to a month ago her breasts had grown quite a bit larger. Though it was still unsure how big her breasts would become, she was pleased with how they were developing. They were definitely beginning to give her body a decidedly feminine shape.

It was a feeling that was very hard for to grasp. For the longest time, she could always remember wanting the body she was slowly growing into but nothing anyone had ever told her about it compared to the reality of the effects the injections were having. The first thing she experienced was the pain of the muscles in her chest expanding; starting to protrude into the most basic characteristic of what defined every woman. Though it wasn't much at the moment and nowhere near as large some of the other girls, they were all hers. That thought alone gave her an inner peace that she had sought for so long. Reaching up, she ran a thumb along the side of her nipple only to stop short; inhaling sharply as a split second hot jolt shot straight to her core.

"I'm going to kill Dr. Farris the next time I see her." gritted out Leela as she stared into the mirror remembering what the doctor had told her.

"You'll experience some slight discomfort and sensitivity," the doctor had told her when she'd asked about what she'd experience after receiving her initial injection.

"And you're going to experience some discomfort when my foot meets your ass." hissed Leela as she memory faded from her mind.

No matter how mentally prepared she thought she was, there was always something new happening. Showering had become something she could barely tolerate. The water beating against her chest was the worst so she had taken to baths instead. Not only was it easier, but it also helped to ease the daily ache that had taken up residence in her body. Some mornings it was tolerable, while others she could barely get out of bed and required her mother's help to get dressed. She hated those mornings. It was an ongoing argument with her mother. Everyday Leela would stay in and read, do her studies, and work out before settling in for the rest of the day watching vids or playing video games while her parents went out for the day to go shopping or meet up with friends. Some days they would come back with bags of food or worse, clothing.

She wasn't completely against her the outfits her mother had bought. She had to admit that she liked the blouses her mother had bought and would wear them when the time was right. The dresses she'd simply ignored and dumped outside her bedroom door along with the underwear her mother had bought. She could understand the need for dresses in her life, but the thought of wearing them was about as impractical as the underwear her mother would buy along with them. Those she tossed into the bag with the dresses, still there were a few items Leela couldn't argue with her mother for buying. The one article of clothing she'd need no matter what the circumstances.

Her sports bra.

Even though things were finally starting to feel the way they should, she still couldn't get used to the necessary evil of wearing a bra. She had put off wearing one for as long as she could, except now with how much her body had progressed wearing one was no longer a choice but rather a necessity. On one hand it provided the necessary support and kept her nipples shielded from the sting of the cold air but the feel of putting on and taking off the tight fitting garment sent her still hyper-sensitive nipples over the edge. She briefly wondered if she was ever going to get used to it or if it would get any better.

Deciding it best not to dwell on what would happen in the future, she reached over to the top of the toilet and picked up the bundle of elastic and gray cotton. Unfolding it, she let out a heavy sigh at what she was about to do.

"Leela?" asked a voice on the other side of the door, breaking her from her thoughts.

"Yeah, Mom?" she answered, eyes locked in silent combat with the bra.

"Are you all right? Do you need some help?" her mother's attempt at hiding her concern not going unnoticed.

"No." responded Leela a little hesitant.

"Are you sure?" inquired Hannah, a bit more hopeful than was necessary. "It's just that you've been in there a little longer than normal."

"I'm fine," replied Leela stretching the fabric in preparation. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Okay." her mother sighed, a bit disappointed with the answer she received. "I'll be in the kitchen whenever you're ready."

Waiting for a few moments, Leela made sure her mother's footsteps to fully fade away before returning her attention to the bra.

"All right you suffocating bastard," she grumbled glaring down at the bra, "let's get this over with."

Pulling the bra over her head, she bit down on her lip as she felt it tighten against her chest. This was the worst part of the whole experience, but she suffered through it all the same. She had gone through several different fabrics and styles of the wretched garment before concluding that this was the most tolerable. She held her breath, feeling of the cotton brush against her nipples sending jolts of electricity through her body; some down her spine and others elsewhere she'd rather not think about. Once she felt the elastic bottom settle against her torso, she let out a long sigh of relief; huffing at the low whistle of her nose that accompanied it and opened the drawer her parents had set aside for her.

It took a couple of moments of searching, but finally she found her small bag and pulled out a needle, two alcohol wipes, and a small bottle. With a practiced hand popped the cap off the bottle, pulled the plunger of the needle before sticking it through the small seal at the top of the phial. Pushing the plunger in, she lowered the needle into the liquid and pulled on the plunger until the liquid was measured to the prescribed amount. Removing it, she flicked the needle to eject some excess air. Setting the needle down briefly on the counter, she wiped off a portion of her thigh before plunging the needle into the muscle. It stung as she pushed down on the plunger and when she removed it she couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief.

After applying a bit of medi-gel to the injection point, she turned to the side and studied her profile for a few moments. She snapped a picture with her omni-tool and sent it to print. When she went into her room, the picture was already printing and after getting dressed she stuck it into what she was calling her 'Progression Journal'. After writing in "Month 5, Week 2," she headed out into the small apartment a friend of her parents was letting them use for their vacation. Arriving in the kitchen, she found her mom pouring a cup of coffee and humming along with an old Earth song on the radio. Grabbing a glass of juice from the table, she walked over to her mother and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"What was that for?" smiled Hannah as she sipped at her coffee still humming along with the song.

"I'm having a good morning," answered Leela with a shrug.

"That's a relief," chuckled Hannah before giving a daughter a gentle pat on the cheek.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Leela, irritated by her mother's comment.

Hannah gave her daughter a cryptic smile and headed to the table where she proceeded to dig into a box of left over pizza. Grabbing her juice, Leela walked to the table and pulled out a slice of her own. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Hannah reading up on the morning news as she ran her fingers through her slowly growing red hair while Leela stared out the window watching cars zoom past. When she was about half way through her slice the teenager finally spoke.

"Where's Dad?" asked Leela suddenly noticing the absence of the news playing on the living room vid screen and the accompanying orchestra of grunts from his morning workouts.

"He's sleeping in," Hannah hummed without looking up from her data-pad.

"Seriously?" asked Leela in disbelief. There were few things that kept her father in bed after seven in the morning and her interest was piqued.

"Seriously," laughed Hannah over the rim of her mug, "He had a meeting last night with a couple of higher ups that ran late and it wore him out."

"I don't blame him then," sighed Leela; biting into her pizza.

It never failed to make her laugh that her father was able to fight for weeks on end with very little sleep, but put him in a room with members of the brass and he'd sleep in till noon if he could. As they sat at the table chewing absentmindedly on their pizza and discussing some of news articles that were flashing across their data pads; they were interrupted by a loud thud from kitchen entrance followed by a low, irritated grumble. Turning her head, Leela saw her father standing in the doorway of the kitchen, the lower half of his face contorted in misery once again hitting his head on the door frame. Stifling a laugh, she watched as her father ducked down and entered the kitchen rubbing his forehead; a series of curses escaping his lips.

Standing six-ten, Mercutio Shepard, or Mark to those closest to him was an impressive figure. While his wife a stood only five-eight, slightly pale with facial scarring and short red hair, Mark was a tower of tanned, toned muscle with long brown hair, and save for a tattoo of the N7 logo on his inner right arm had no visible scars until he took off his shirt. Many people were afraid of him by his size alone, but to those closest to him he was a very kind soul. That is until he was in the middle of a training session or mission and the warrior that could rival any krogan emerged. Despite his prowess on the battlefield, he was unable to escape a few bad habits; the most prominent being his morning routine.

As he shuffled toward them, Leela watched as her dad scratched at his five o'clock shadow before scratching at his stomach and a bit lower as he yawned loudly. Averting her gaze, Leela waited for his customary post scratch grunt before shaking her head at the sight before her. This morning he was dressed in his faded Ninja Turtle pajama bottoms, blue tank top, ratty old blue bathrobe with the words "Police Box" written across the shoulders and topped off with a pair of oversized Raphael slippers. As he lumbered through the kitchen, he didn't take notice the women at the table until he heard them stifle their laughter. Turning like a zombie hearing one of them snort, his bloodshot hazel eyes focused first on his daughter then drifted slowly to his wife. He gave a low grunt to which Hannah merely responded with a nod at the counter.

Walking to the table, he bent down and kissed Hannah gently on the cheek and ruffled Leela's hair before he made his way to the counter. Removing a large mug from cabinet, he poured his coffee and headed to the table. Pulling out his chair, Mark sat down and lazily stretched his legs out before sliding toward the table. Once his slippers were staring comfortably up at his wife, Mark turned his attention to his coffee. They sat there for a while in a comfortable silence until a deep rumble emanated from man. Shaking her head, Leela pulled a slice of pizza out of the box and extended it to her father. Staring at it and then back to his daughter, Mark opened his mouth allowing his daughter to place the food in his mouth.

"Rough meeting, Dad?" asked Leela, smiling as her father took the food from her hand between his teeth.

"Yeah." mumbled Mark after swallowing a mouthful of pizza. Taking a sip of his coffee he let out a low sigh, "Nothing like an ass-chewing a week into your vacation and having to look forward to another one the following week?"

"Another one?" inquired Hannah, signing off at some document on her data-pad before turning her attention to her husband. "What's it about?"

"Classified." stated Mark matter of factly, "All you two need to know right now is that you'll have my undivided attention for the next week. Which means..." he gave a knowing look to Leela who groaned.

"Come on, Dad," she complained through a mouthful of pizza, "You said I didn't have to do anything if I didn't want to."

"True," he said after a couple of contemplative chews, "but you've been in this apartment for a week aren't you getting bored?"

"I have my books to keep me occupied," she huffed turning her attention to the window. "Not to mention my school work and I can do most of my basic fitness exercises in the living room. Why do I want to go out there when I have what I need here?"

"To be social," muttered Hannah as she finished her coffee.

"Did you forget the last time people were 'social' with me," scoffed her daughter pointing at the curve in the bridge of her nose and exhaled loudly, a deep whistle emphasizing her point.

"It's not like that here, Passerotto," her father chastised gently, trying to keep his daughter calm.

"How do you know?" snapped Leela, a blue glow forming around her body. "How do you know it's not like that here? Have you ever had to sit there and fucking not be able to talk to anyone, especially members of your own species, because you think they're going to try and bust your head open once you do?"

"Leela look at me." The teenagers head snapped to her mother, the glow pulsating from her daughter like a rippling in a pond. Reaching out, she laid her hand gently on Leela's and said, "We know this is tough on you. We've tried to be there as often as we can, especially after that first meeting with Dr. Lindstrom when you were younger, but we can only do so much. You have to take control of this yourself, so please," she watched as Mark reached out and took their daughter's other hand, "come out with us today and I promise you, no one will even give you a second glance."

Looking at her dad, Leela saw the same pleading look in his eyes that she heard in her mother's voice. She contemplated the idea for a moment; torn between the two options and pulled her hand away from her parents' grasp. Running a hand through her hair, she let out a defeated sigh knowing they wouldn't let up until she gave in.

The blue glow dissipated as she stomped off to her room growling, "I better be able to buy some new books."