Jacob Taylor x Spacer Fem!Shep
I wanted to write a story that fills in the time period after the Suicide Mission up through Arrival and adds some much needed substance to the Jacob romance arc. This is it.
Fluff, drama, more fluff, humor (?) with some sexitimez for good measure.
Rated M for later creative uses of mass effect fields ;)
Drea Shepard stepped out of the shower and looked at her reflection in the mirror, frowning as water ran down her slim toned body in rivulets and pooled on the floor. The puddles had already begun to shrink as they were sucked in through invisible micro-pores built into the bathroom's flooring.
Nothing was wasted on a starship. Drea wiggled her toes feeling the automatic sub-floor heating system kick in.
Cerberus had spared no expense to make sure she was comfortable. And now they were short exactly one Commander and one starship, sub-floor heating included. Maybe they should have spent less time stocking her cabin with thousand-thread-count sheets and more with improving their ethical standards. Drea would have been happier crammed in a stale sleeper pod on the most outdated Alliance frigate than this luxury liner any day.
Continuing to peer at her reflection, she tilted her head to the side and ran her fingers across her cheek and down her neck. All traces of scarring from her initial surgery were gone. She could hardly believe the complex interweaving of flesh and machine that lay just below the surface. She had quickly learned to adapt to her increased strength and perception. To the average person she would always seem a little too fast or a little too strong to be natural, her eyes perhaps a little too bright. In her favor, she was used to standing out. Biotics and a shock of platinum blond hair coupled with exceedingly light grey-blue eyes had inured her to being the subject of attention at a young age. You could say she was born to stand out.
Drea finished up in the bathroom, and padded out to the main cabin. It was sparse even for her spartan tastes, as she had never really felt comfortable settling in on the Cerberus vessel. An empty fish tank hummed away on the side wall. She liked it despite its lack of fishy occupants. The dim blue glow it gave off was a nice alternative to the harsh overhead spotlights and stark white lamps that otherwise lit the room. Her desk was devoid of any ornamentation, and next to an unused couch was her bed, perfectly fluffed and folded, as it always was. A lifetime of habit was hard to forget, and she was military from the day she was born to Alliance Navy officer Hannah Shepard.
Drea tapped in a few commands to her wardrobe console, and after a few moments of clicks and whirs from within, the door next to it slid open to reveal three compartments of varying sizes, respectively containing a dress, heels, and a bracelet. She laid the outfit out on the bed and closed the console.
Cerberus had spared no expense to stock her wardrobe with armor and clothing to fit any and every possible situation, no matter how unlikely she thought it necessary. She had scoffed at the lacy negligees and sky high heels, and stared in shock at jewelry that probably cost more than her yearly salary as an Alliance Commander. Now that she was no longer under the employ of Cerberus and the Illusive Man, she had actually found use for some of it, and it gave her no small amount of smug satisfaction at the irony.
Drea stretched the dress over her head and shimmied it down over her body. It was sexy she thought, without being trashy, and dressy without being too dressy. Off-white, and made of a stretchy cashmere-like material, it was a simple sleeveless sheath that hugged her hips and ended just above the knee. She tugged at the silky soft fabric, smoothing it around her curves. Satisfied, she slipped on a pair of matching strappy heels and the silver bracelet.
She usually preferred her jeans and t-shirts, but it was fun having an excuse to wear something sexy and feminine. It was a nice change from having to armor up in full kit on a day to day basis. After the year she'd just had, she didn't want to see the inside of a hardsuit for at least a month; though she'd probably settle for a week. Actually, if she could just get through that night, it might be a miracle.
Shep pulled up her omnitool. The sun would be just setting when they docked on Illium in thirty minutes.
…
10 hours earlier
Jacob poked absently at the nutrient bar sitting in front of him. The Normandy's food supplies had dwindled to a depressing state, and their cook had been notably absent from duty since they had returned from the Omega-4 relay to Terminus space not two days prior. He didn't begrudge the crew a nice long break from duty after that, but he would kill for a hamburger.
He had the high metabolism shared by all biotics, and a nutrient bar and some stale coffee just wasn't cutting it. He wondered how Shepard was doing. Despite her slender frame, she could easily out eat him in a sitting. Jacob didn't find it surprising considering the amount of energy she was able to put out. Even among Alliance biotic Special Forces, he rarely saw some of the more powerful techniques she employed in combat.
He took the time to enjoy the quiet. Occasionally a crew member would pass through and exchange nods of greeting. Taking one last bite of the bar, he chucked it in the trash and went back to the armory.
Since completing the mission through the Omega-4, the ship had become a lot more relaxed. Shepard had cleared the docket for the month and removed all dress code regulations and work schedules, save for vital ship functions.
He figured cutting ties with Cerberus also had something to do with it. They really were a civilian ship now, no question. Drea seemed to be embracing it while it lasted, and the crew seemed to be enjoying their new found freedom. Shep had even let Jack spray paint the hold. "As pirate as it's ever gonna get," she had told her handing her a can.
Taking a bench in the armory, Jacob shrugged off his jacket and pulled up the day's news feeds on his omnitool. He settled back and expanded the display in front of him. He wasn't really sure what to do with himself now that the mission was complete. Months spent with one singular goal in mind, unending preparation and planning, and now it was done. He felt in limbo, in more ways than one.
Foremost in his thoughts was the Commander. Shepard. Drea.
They hadn't had the chance to sit down and talk in the few days since coming back. And before that, well.
They had slept together. It was one night, and they hadn't exactly spent it talking about a future together. He had told her that he loved her, and he was kicking himself a little for it now.
He did, she was amazing.
But maybe it had been a little too serious and too soon for him to let slip. Emotions were high the moment it had been spoken, but now he had nothing but time to think it over. He was obsessing over every look, every word, and every gesture, and it was not in his nature to dwell.
They were in a murky relationship area with a lot of implied intentions and unspoken feelings. He thought he knew how she felt, but at the same time lacked any tangible proof to reassure himself they were on the same page. It left him restless.
He hoped he would get some resolution soon. Shepard had spent most of the first two days back dealing with ship issues and what to do with the crew—general tying up of loose ends. There had been no chance for them to be alone, and he didn't begrudge her wanting to sleep and recharge by herself so soon after they got back.
Jacob scanned through his private message log from the past seventy-two hours, filtered by sender, Drea Shepard.
::Save me! Miranda's already trying to debrief me on scenarios for possible retaliation from the illusive man. I haven't even taken my boots off!
::Hey, meet you in the mess for lunch?
::Need sleep. Miss your voice.
::When we get to Illium, everyone's on their own until further notice. You and I shall take some time, lol. Hope you have your drinking hat ready.
::There's a great little place called Surana's in Nos Astra that Liara told me I have to check out. I thought maybe we could head there first, if it's alright with you. There are a few bars in the same strip we can check out afterwards.
::Finally, I get you all to myself! Also, I'm dying for some real food, what the hell happened to Gardner? I haven't seen him since we got back. The ship's not that big. WTH?
Jacob counted the hours until he would have Drea to himself, away from the ship and the crew.
He was bored as hell the rest of the day, and spent an inordinate amount of time deciding what to wear that night. He felt ridiculous getting all worked up over this "date" with Shepard. She always did know how to push his buttons, even when she wasn't trying. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had made him nervous.
They were five minutes out from Nos Astra when Shepard pinged him with a message.
Ready to get off this boat? Meet you on the crew deck in twenty.
…
Jacob leaned against a table waiting for Shep, trying to act casual. His jaw about dropped when she finally rounded the corner.
Drea walked up to him and placed her hands on his shoulders. "You look good out of uniform, Taylor," she said appreciatively.
"You look amazing," he said.
She leaned in for a kiss and he pulled her in closer by the hips. She settled her weight against him as he braced on the table and they continued to lock lips.
They separated for air, reluctantly, lips still grazing, and Drea gave him one last nibble.
"We'll never leave at this rate," she said, nuzzling his neck.
They were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat, coming from the direction of the kitchen.
Shepard stepped away from Jacob and smoothed out her dress as they both stood up. Turning towards the source of the disruption, they saw Gardner standing by the mess lockers holding a cylinder of sugar.
Drea raised an eyebrow.
"Commander. I was just-" he started before being interrupted by a familiar grizzled voice.
Zaeed had sauntered in from around the corner.
"Me and ol' Gardner here set up a still in the starboard cargo. Best 'shine in the 'verse. Picked the recipe up off a batarian raider, well his corpse anyways..."
Shepard held up her hand in protest, "Just don't set the ship on fire while I'm gone."
"You ready to get out of here?" she asked Jacob.
"Definitely."
...