AUTHOR'S NOTE – READ IT OR EAT IT!

DON'T THINK I WON'T SHOVE IT DOWN YOUR THROAT!

Hello there, everyone! This is my first ever fan fiction (well, "professional", anyway), and it was inspired by Herr Wozzeck's story, Mass Vexations. I had the idea of doing a self insert myself, but I didn't feel like writing it, never mind actually posting it. But, after reading his story, and seeing a few other self insert stories that others have done, I felt the urge to write my own. Once I was half way through this chapter, I suddenly realized that I wanted to post it – and even finish it, because I was actually having a lot of fun with it.

I may not know very many movie or game references, as I don't really enjoy watching movies, and very few games ever catch my eye, but I'll try to put in as many humorous things in the story as I can, and share my sense of humor with you all. But it won't all just be laughs and giggles, because this story will have it's serious moments as well, as I'm a naturally depressing person, and I tend to slip up – however, it's my sense of humor that keeps me sane, so you'll see plenty of it throughout the story, and I'll bet you'll be snickering at some points.

Also, please forgive any mistakes that may be in the story, as I have no beta-reader to correct them for me, and even though I read through each chapter several times, there will still be errors that will slip pass my notice. I'm only human, after all.

Please enjoy,

GentlyConfused.

PS: I don't own Mass Effect or anything aside from my own soul.

So there.

Chapter 1 – I'm on the Citadel, so I must be nuts.

You know, there was once a time in my life when I dreamed of the chance to be in any fandom of my choice. I would skive off my homework, block out Facebook, and turn off my cell phone, and just stare off into space, imagining all sorts of adventures I'd go on. Sometimes, I would be a nameless nurse on the USS Enterprise, or a mysterious mage in Dragon Age, or, more often than not, I'd just be myself while poking around and stalking Severus Snape in Harry Potter – for shits and giggles, of course.

My favorite pastime was imagining the absolute horror that would dawn onto his normally stoic face, as he realized that he had a bloody fangirl that followed him around and giggled at him.

I have gotten many, many strange looks for randomly cracking up at school because of that mental image.

But that was last year, because I decided to be a serious(ish) student this year, because I flunked my senior year in high school last time, so I've stopped daydreaming – mostly. I decided that, hey, I needed to get my ass in gear, or I'll never be able to work at Wal-Mart.

Yes. Wal-Mart. I want that discount card!

So now I actually do my homework, and my assignments, and (gasp!) I even pay attention in class, taking notes and asking questions, instead of just vacantly smiling at the air in front on me – like a creepy ass doll.

I haven't done these things since I was nine years old, so you can imagine how shocked my teachers, friends, and family were when I started getting A's and B's, especially when I cleaned – my – room!

I have an actual carpet now, instead of rolled up paper balls, discarded homework, dirty clothes, mouse crap, or empty ramen bowls as my floor. The carpet is a gray-ish white color, and it has Mountain Dew stains in it, as well as coffee stains, but I have a freaking carpet now.

It's bizarre. But totally awesome.

So.

I don't want to go on some grand adventure, or even be the Doctor's companion anymore.

I just want to finish high school, save up money for a van (not a used one either! – I have learned from my brother's mistakes. I don't want to spend money on a million repair jobs, just because I was cheap, damn it! Because I am cheap and I don't want to waste my money!), and apply for a job at Wal-Mart, hopefully in fabrics. Maybe even publish a book in a few years, and be a respected author.

That was my plan. It's vague, but it was going somewhere, damn it.

But now, as I stand here in the middle of the Citadel, stumbling into an alleyway, stunned and bewildered, I know – I fucking know – that those plans have just been screwed over.

And I want my money back!

...or a hug. A hug would be nice.

Somehow, I think drily, discreetly peeking my head out, I don't think that krogan over there is going to give me a hug. Perhaps kick my head in, like a human soccer ball, but no hug.

I frowned, and leaned back into the shadows.

Damn, and I really wanted that hug, too...

Now, I'm sure you're wondering how the bleeding hell I ended up on the Citadel, right?

Honestly?

I have no fucking clue.

One minute, I was innocently leaving my house, heading over to the bus stop, and then I blinked. Just blinked. And then I was gaping idiotically in the middle of a crowd, surrounded by aliens. I don't know what the fuck happened, if I just blinked at the wrong moment, and someone up there got seriously offended and decided to mess with me, but whatever it was, it's freaky as hell.

Gah.

Please excuse me while I try to keep my brain from imploding in shock.

Thank you.

Okay.

I'm an eighteen year old human girl, who has no credits on her, no birth records, no history, no home, no friends or allies, or a family, and all I have on me are my three school bags of stuff (my backpack has my important stuff, like money, MP3 player, laptop, and first aid kit. My travel bag on wheels contains my school books, art supplies, and lunch. And lastly, my messenger bag has my books, CD case, my notebooks and binder, and my cellphone; along with my makeup and other feminine and good-hygiene products – all together I estimate that they weigh about 60 – 90 pounds, if not more. Yes, I am insane, but at least people back off when they see me, and don't talk to me. Unless they're asses) and a cup of hot coco.

The coco was quickly drained, and the red plastic cup was thrown away.

It was for a good cause. Its sacrifice won't be forgotten – oh, who am I kidding? It's just coco.

...granted, that was probably my last cup of hot coco for the foreseeable future.

Fuck.

Once the warmth of the coco settled my nerves, I wandered out of the alleyway, looking about myself absently, and ignoring the people around me.

I can people-watch later. First, I need to figure out where on the Citadel I am, and then locate a bench (because I vaguely remember there being some in the game), and then I can goggle – subtly! – at the alien life around me.

However, after about ten seconds of aimless walking, I quickly realized that I was on the Presidium, because, hello, there are trees and there's the water. It's like being in a very pretty park that you weren't allowed to go camping in, which sucks, because then I could've just camped out – Apartments? Hotels? Pifft! Please! Why spend money when I could survive in the wild?

I sighed morosely, and sulked over to a nearby bench.

There went that idea.

Damn it...

Oh, well. No use in dwelling. Best to keep my spirits up and think positively, otherwise I'll get depressed, and perhaps a little twitchy, and then jump into the river –

And I don't know how to swim.

...actually, I wonder if anyone has gone swimming in the river? Didn't Ashley ask that, and made some sarcastic remark about how many people drowned – ...

Huh.

I wonder if she was talking about me right there.

Creepy.

Tia, shut up before you weird yourself out, girl, I thought, lightly smacking myself.

Okay, I need a plan. Plans are good. They help you make sense of life, and make life less chaotic and confusing.

I. Need. A. Plan.

Now.

I stared blankly at the air in front of me, thinking furiously. My face automatically relaxed into a faint smile, because of all the years I've forced myself to smile and seem happy, because I've noticed that people left you alone if you seemed happy and cheerful – I've been called 'that girl who skips through the halls with a smile on her face', which confused me, because I don't even know how to skip (I can trip, but that doesn't really count), but I left the crazy lady alone about it. And, sadly, even after a couple of years, my face still relaxes into a smile.

Pisses me the hell off, but, well, at least it helps with my facade as an innocent girl.

...at least, until I open my mouth. Or hiss.

Hissing is a very good scare tactic when you want someone to leave you alone, because no one wants to mess with the crazy chick.

Plus, hissing never fails to entertain friends and family.

Yay.

Hm, lets see...I need money and an apartment. Need a job, too. Where can I work? I have no real skills. I can draw and write, but that wouldn't work out at C-Sec. Hell, I probably couldn't apply anywhere, since I don't have a background here. It's going to be mighty suspicious to the higher ups when they realize that some human girl just popped up out of nowhere on the Citadel. Damn it! This is getting me nowhere! Just...um...shit. Try working at a bar? I mean, come one, what kind of requirements would I need to work at Chora's Den?

Aside from pole-dancing, but I doubt that anyone wants to see a chubby girl in glasses dance around. Or, well, fall off the platform, anyway.

Okay. That takes care of my job problem.

What about an apartment, or, hell, a hotel? I can't afford that. And there was no way in hell that I was selling my stuff – ...well, maybe my school books.

Because I'm bad like that.

...Okay, I'll totally sell my school books for credits.

Cool.

I wonder if that counts as Renegade points or not? I absently wondered, snickering as leaned back in my seat. Damn. There went my perfect Paragon record. Well, not perfect, because I had, like, three bars in Renegade.

Bah. I scowled, but shook it off.

I causally observed the alien races that were walking about in front of me, looking relaxed and content as I did so – at least, until someone looked at my eyes. I'm pretty sure that they were sharp and calculating. One of my friends once told me that, although my face looked happy, and my body language appeared relaxed, my eyes were a totally different story; they always gave away the fact that I was analyzing and collecting data about the people around me. He, my friend, had said that it was sort of weird, because it gave mixed signals and confused him.

Figures. I confuse people without even talking.

I just have epic skills, I suppose.

Okay; stop. Concentrate. I berated, mentally slapping myself, annoyed. Goddamn ADD...

My eyes zeroed in a couple of salarian men, who were quietly discussing something off to the side, and were using wild hand gestures to get their points across, seemingly excited with whatever it was they were talking – or debating – about. As I observed them, I brought up whatever information I had on their race, easily remembering the main points of their history and physiology, and I meshed my observations and the information I had together. I even included the best ways of engaging combat with them, both lethal and non-lethal.

Beings are warm-blooded amphibians, making them the frogs of Mass Effect (although, the warm-blooded aspect is interesting). They are highly intelligent, and have an astonishingly high metabolism, giving them the ability to think fast and talk fast – often confusing those that can't keep up. I think there was also something about moving fast, so I deduce that they have good agility. Salarians do not mate for sexual recreation; they only mate for the continuation of their race. They do not lust, nor do they love. They have friendships, though, and thus are capable of emotional entanglements – just not "love", apparently.

Personally, I think that's bit farfetched, since they seem to feel affection for friends, so, logically, it should be possible for those emotions to become deeper and transform into "love", but I may just be saying that since I am human, and thus can't comprehend not loving someone.

I sighed, absently bouncing my foot. I scanned the salarians' bodies, searching for possible weaknesses.

Salarians have very thin bodies, and that makes them very delicate. Hell, you could probably sneeze on them and cause them to blow away – either from shock or disgust (heh). Joking aside, I bet it'd be pretty easy to break their neck, should lethal action be needed. Their wrists would be a good spot too, so that they wouldn't be able use any weapons. For non-lethal action (meaning, not breaking or killing anything), I bet I could just spray my perfume into those huge eyes of theirs, and make a run for it while they deal with that. Perfume isn't as effective as pepper-spray, but the same principal applies.

One of the salarians noticed that I was looking at him, and gave me a briefly puzzled look. I just smiled, and causally waved at him, and then looked away, seemingly distracted by something shiny.

What? Just because I was making defensive/offensive plans against his species, in case of attack, doesn't mean I have anything against him, geez.

Besides, I like salarians. (Me? A Mordin fangirl? Never!)

I coughed, smiling a bit.

I shook my head, and watched closely as a turian C-Sec officer walked by. I took in his dark brown skin and his red facial tattoo, and I assumed that the color of his tattoo had something to with passion, or something warrior related. I think the patten itself represents the clan he's from – or colony.

Okay; Turians. They have a very militaristic background, so I guess this would make them the G.I Joes of Mass Effect, but more impressive. They have an interesting biology, because they have a metal exoskeleton, giving them a natural resistance to radiation – which is weird, because Garrus's shields were going down as fast as the rest of the team's (on Haestrom), so, theoretically, his should have gone down slower (but, then again, it was the shields, not health points, so maybe that was it) – but this doesn't make them superhuman (heh). They are still effected by energy bolts and such.

Turians are built like a predator; sharp feet and talons, appearing to be able to rip off soft, fleshy, skin (ouch). Their body frames are slender, with thin hips, but they seem to have subtle strength in that frame, unlike the salarians. But, like the salarians, they are also capable of fast speeds. These guys aren't as easily taken out, but I bet the perfume thing would work on them, if all else fails. For lethal stuff, I'd suggest violently ripping off their mandibles, although, I doubt that would work very well, since they have a metal exoskeleton and everything. Hm. I think their hips or stomachs might be weak points, so that could work.

I yawned, and leaned forwards in my seat, looking bored. I lazily focused my eyes on the pretty asari that was looking at something on her omni-tool, and I briefly admired her, like one would with an atheistically pleasing work of art, before getting down to business. This wasn't the time for ogling at pretty women, damn it.

Asari are a very cool race, if you ask me (but not like the salarians). They are an all female race, or "mono-gendered", and remind me of the Goddess phases (the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone) as they grow older, but they have different names for the later two (Matron and Matriarch). They have powerful biotic abilities, and can easily knock a few people around with hardly any effort on their part. They can also bare children of different races – regardless of gender. However, their babies are always 100 percent asari, despite the genes of the "father" – and am I the only one that gets offended by that? Really, my Shepard is not a butch, damn you all!

I pouted, but shook my thoughts off before I could get distracted by them.

Kay; weaknesses. Hm...again, the perfume would work on them. Um. Well, aside from the obvious (bullet to the head, knee caps, arms, etc, etc – they're so basic, I didn't even bother with thinking of them before. God, I'm stupid), I can't think of anything elaborate, like with the other two. Damn...hey, wait, I am actually feeling bad about not coming up with ways of killing someone? Fuck, I am weird!

Feeling disgusted with myself, I stood up from the bench and, after a moment's pause, I turned on heel and headed for the nearest Avina, my travel bag rolling behind me like a faithful dog – okay, gah. Bad comparison. I hate dogs.

Anyway; I needed to refresh my memory on the current history of Mass Effect, and find out what the date was, as well as getting a map of the Citadel, so I can know where I'm going.

And, the only (quick and easy) way I can think of doing that would be with Avina's assistance.

Besides, I don't see any more species around here that I could observe – well, aside from a keeper, but. Yeah. I don't think those guys are very hostile, or even worth my time, aside from the usual scientific curiosity, of course.

"Greetings, and welcome to the Presidium," Avina said pleasantly as I approached her, and I smiled in response. She may have no personality, which makes her incredibility dull, but she was a nice VI, nonetheless. "My name is Avina and I am pleased to be your virtual guide throughout this level of the Citadel space station."

"Hello, Avina. My full name is Tiana Rose Late," I said formally, using one of my aliases, bowing lightly in polite greeting. "May I have the time and date, please? By Earth standards, if that's possible."

"It is 7:15 AM, Earth time, and the date is August 20th," Avina informed me. "Is there anything else you want to know?"

"Uh, yeah, um...what year is it?" I asked lowly, making sure that no one but the VI heard me.

"2183," She answered promptly, and I inhaled sharply in surprise.

Oh, damn it. This is the year it all starts, isn't it?

Fuck. Change of plans; my history lessen can wait. I need to prepare myself right away, and I need credits for that. I'm not sure if I intend to join Shepard on her mission, but either way, I need to prepare for the up coming events.

"Ah," I blinked rapidly as my brain processed everything, already thinking of things that I'll need. "Thank you, Avina. Can you print out a map for me? I don't have my omni-tool on me." I lied, smiling shakily.

"Certainly!" Avina cheerily beamed, and from the terminal a rather large sheet of paper printed itself out. I caught it before it could fall to the ground, smiling grimly to myself as I looked at it, searching for the Markets. "Is there anything else you require?"

"No, Avina, this is good. Thank you," I said sincerely, bowing once more. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye, and thank you for using Avina. Please enjoy your visit to the Citadel."

I laughed, walking away. "Oh, I will." I mumbled, almost bitterly, but spoke up, "Thanks again, Avina – you're a doll!"

I quickly stumbled out of the transport/car-thing, looking sick.

Damn it! I hate car sickness! Egh...

I sat down on the floor for a moment, blinking as my stomach settled itself. I waved off concerned bystanders, and, eventually, stood up. I dusted off imaginary dirt, spun around (grimacing as my stomach protested) and confidently walked over to the volus that I remembered, the one that had a booth. I walked down between the stalls, blocking out the noise around me with practiced ease, and focused solely on the little volus.

Luckily, he wasn't speaking with a customer, so I didn't have to lurk around and wait until he wasn't busy.

I smiled charmingly, and leaned against the table of his booth.

"Hello, sir. I was wondering if you would be willing to buy some old, uh, Earth Clan, books, from their educational system that students used to learn from. I think some historians would be interested in them, and they would be willing to pay lots of credits to have their hands on them. They're in good condition," I said in a sing-song voice, smiling.

That caught his interest.

"Really?" I watched as the shutters on his eyes clicked, well, 'blinked', and breathed heavily, amused. It's almost like he's a mini-Darth Vader. He paused, thinking. "Let me see these...books."

Grinning, I bent over to my travel bag, and unzipped it. One by one, I piled up my Art II book, my Biology book, my Physical Science book, my English IV book, my Health and Safety book, and my dreaded Algebra II book up onto the table, stacking them neatly into two piles. I re-zipped my bag, and smugly stood back up, keeping a firm grip on the handle of my travel bag.

I watched patiently as he looked through each one, and, thankfully, they were all new books, and they didn't have rude drawings in them from my more immature peers. I had a sneaking suspicion that would've made their value go down.

Finally, after fifteen minutes of carefully searching the books, the volus nodded, snapping the Physical Science book shut. He calmly put it back in it's stack, and then looked at me.

Alright, this is it, I thought, tensing. This is where the fun begins...

"I'll give you six-hundred for them, Earth Clan. A hundred credits for each book."

"No deal," I snapped out instantly, raising my brows. Because, you see, I stopped at a computer terminal and did a search on the extranet before leaving for the Markets. I know how valuable these books are.

I'm not stupid.

I smiled, and drummed my fingers on the table. "I should be charging you a thousand for each book, if not more, but I'll be nice; how about three-hundred each?"

"Hundred-fifty," He shot out, and I smirked, leaning in to stare into his glowing eye sockets.

I mean business.

"Two-hundred-thirty," I drawled out, leering at him.

"Two-hundred!" He blurted out, and I grinned, pulling away.

Gotcha!

"Deal! That's two-hundred each, so you need to give me twelve-thousand credits – up front and center, Irune Clan!" I said, still grinning wildly, and I smacked the table, getting a little carried away with my victory.

That, was fun!

And is it just me, or did the little guy actually look impressed with me?

Naw...that has to be my ego talking right there.

"Okay, I want this," I said, pointing at a simple looking pistol. I had absolutely no idea what model it was, but it was cheap, so it'll work...as long as it didn't break on me.

"That," I said next, this time I pointing at a box of basic hand grenades. I smiled, and then pointed at an omni-tool. "And this, too, please."

Then I smiled gleefully, spotting the one thing I wanted the most; shield barriers. "And I want that!"

The salarian gave me a mildly amused look. "Anything else you want?"

"Nope!" I said, practically hopping in place. I was excited. I get some fucking bombs, man!

But still no bazooka, or even a tank. I thought morosely, inwardly pouting. My daddy refused to buy me either one.

See, while my Dad was the gun fanatic, I'm the one that fangirls over explosives and tanks. Which is strange, because my preferred weapon is a pistol, a tiny hand gun, which is the total opposite of grenades, rocket launchers, bazookas and tanks.

Meh.

"Do you even have a license for this stuff?" He asked, gesturing to my new toys, the ones that can cause some serious harm.

I blinked. License? What?

"What license? What is this license, you speak of?" I questioned, looking worried.

I don't remember anything about a license! I mentally hissed.

He looked at me like I was stupid.

"Are you stupid?" He asked, looking at me sceptically. HEY! "You need a license to carry weapons and explosives on the Citadel, or you'll get arrested."

"..." I gaped wordlessly at him. I think my brain just died. "Oh," I said meekly, and I looked longingly at the pistol and the explosives. I gently petted them. "Goodby babies, mama loved you, even if she didn't get to have you."

I was almost tempted to kiss them.

The salarian gave me a deadpanned look.

"Do I need to give you a moment alone?" He asked, drily.

I gave him a dirty look. "Oh, shut up, you bosh'tet!"

Thank you, Tali, love you!

The merchant gave me a surprised look. "You speak Quarian?"

"No, I only know a few words," I said frankly. "Can you ring me up? I want my stuff – just take the gun and grenades off from my list."

He stared a bit, but shrugged and rang me up. "A thousand credits, please."

I almost whimpered at the total, but I reluctantly handed him the needed credits.

Now I only have two-hundred credits to my name.

Lovely.

"Here, sir. Thank you, sir." I said politely, sighing.

"Welcome," He responded back, smiling. "Come again soon."

"Maybe when I have money." I grumbled, looking sulky as I got my purchases.

"Of course! Wouldn't want you here otherwise," He said happily, and I glared.

Ouch, much?

Seriously, man; I feel so loved now.

Not.

Oh, whatever. I need to by some medi-gel now with my remaining credits, and then go prowl around for Shepard, because I decided right there and then that I was joining him/her.

I could use the military funding.

Instead of using the transport-thing, I walked up the stairs and over to the Med Clinic owned by Dr. Michel.

There ain't no way in hell that I'm using those things again, unless I really, really have to.

I hate getting car sick.

As I walked over there, I suddenly realized that I must really stand out from these people that surround me. I'm wearing 'outdated' clothing, I have glasses, I'm overweight, I'm short, and I'm a lot younger than the adults that are around me – I didn't see a single teenager or even small a child. Also, I'm carrying three different bags, along with my shopping bag, and I walked at a slow, leisurely pace.

I smiled to myself, and walked a little more proudly.

I like to stand out. There is a reason why I loved putting my Shepard in bright yellow amour, you know.

Too bad I don't still have long hair, I mused sadly, absently ruffling my shoulder length hair. Stupid lice. Man, I really wanted to strangle someone for that. I've hadn't had lice since I was five years old, and BAM, the children of the household infect me. Wonderful.

I repressed the sense of loss that threatened to resurface, stubbornly shoving it down. So what; I got a hair cut. Big deal. Just because I grew it out as tribute to my mother's memory doesn't mean anything...

Really.

I smiled falsely, because I knew that it was either doing that, or having a small mental breakdown in the middle of a crowd, and that wasn't an option for me.

I couldn't afford to cry, or yell, or scream right now. Besides; I don't let my emotions control me, if I can help it.

It would be undignified of me, to do such things.

And anyway, it's nice to have short hair for once. It reminds me of happier days, before Mom passed away, and that's a good thing. Plus, I like having bangs now, and I'm even considering about keeping them while growing out the rest of my hair. So, the lice was a blessing in disguise; I just have to look at it in a different light, is all.

My fake smile softened a bit, becoming smaller, but it was more genuine now, and it didn't hurt my face as much.

Then I made a face, ruining my peaceful expression.

Oh, damn it! I'm faking smiles again! Fucking hell, what is wrong with me? Gah! "Old habits die hard" – pah! Give me a spoon and I'll stab those freaking habits to DEATH! I mentally hissed, greatly annoyed with myself.

After a few minutes I arrived at the clinic, and I opened the door. I walked in, looking calmer than I had a while ago.

Yay for being bipolar. Well, mildly bipolar, anyway. I was more ADD and depressed than I was bipolar.

Don't you just love inherited mental issues?

…

I was being sarcastic, stupid.

Anyway, Dr. Michel looked up, surprised at my entrance, but smiled at me.

"Hello, there." The redheaded woman greeted me, her expression warm.

"Hi, are you Dr. Michel?" I asked, even though I already knew.

"Yes, I am. Do you need medical assistance?" She questioned, but was looking at me doubtfully, since I didn't seem to be hurt or sick.

I laughed, shaking my head. "No, ma'am. I was wanting to buy some medi-gel. Can never be too careful!" I said cheerfully, causing her to smile.

"Well –"

I squeaked when the door I just came through suddenly slid opened. Now, normally, this wouldn't make me squeak (unless I just wasn't paying attention to my surroundings or something), but just as the door opened a loud, aggressive voice spoke up, and that was what startled me.

"Hey, doc! We heard you were wanting to blab your mouth out about the quarian!" The arrogant looking man smirked, and cockily entered the clinic, along with a team of lackeys, and they were all armed to the teeth.

I stared at them, wide eyed. Holy fuck! No way!

Why now, while I'm still in here? Couldn't they have waited until I left? Gah!

"I didn't tell anyone!" Dr. Michel protested, but she looked frightened.

Not that I blame her.

"W-what?" I stuttered, looking stunned.

Unfortunately, this attracted the attention of the leader of the group. He raised his brows, and then leered at me.

"Who's this, doc?" He sneered, and I stiffened. I did not like the malice in those beady eyes of his. "A patient?"

"You leave her out of this!" Dr. Michel nearly growled, and stood in front of me. "She is an innocent!"

I blinked, startled by her defense of me. What the hell? I'm just a nobody in all this – no need to risk your life, honey.

However, I felt oddly touched by this, and, strangely enough, I felt like crying.

God – I hate being a teenage girl. So many hormones...

The man sneered and shoved her out of the way, causing her to fall to the ground. "Get out of my way, bitch!"

"Dr. Michel!" I cried, worried. I dropped my shopping bag and travel bag to the floor, temporarily forgotten, and quickly knelt down next to her. "Are you okay?" I whispered.

She managed a nod, but then the thug suddenly laughed, cutting off whatever response she had.

"Well, well, aren't you an sweetheart?" He mocked. I growled, looking indignant.

I am not SWEET!

"Well, well, aren't you an asshole?" I snapped right back, standing up. I ignored Dr. Michel's pleas to shut up, and I boldly strode up to his cocky self and slapped him. "Never call me 'sweetheart' again, you bosh'tet! Or I'll mug you with my Bags of Doom, you sorry sonofabitch!" I threatened, fuming.

There was a stunned silence.

Then the man suddenly growled, and he was, no doubt, about to kick my ass, when Dr. Michel pulled me back and put me firmly behind her, where he or his goons couldn't shoot me down without taking her out first.

I nearly pouted at that – she's ruining all of my fun! – but I reminded myself that she was being nice, so I shouldn't be bull head about it.

"Ignore her! She's mentally unstable!" Dr. Michel announced, and I gaped stupidly at her back.

"I'm what?" I hissed quietly from behind her, amused and annoyed at the same time.

"Shut up!" She hissed back, and then confronted the man. "I didn't tell anyone, I swear!"

The thug decided to forget about me for now, apparently, as he focused his attentions back to the doctor.

It was probably because she was a pretty redhead within his age range, while I was just some chubby "kid" to him.

Bastard.

"Heh," he smirked, coming closer to her. "That was smart, doc. Now, if Garrus comes around, you stay smart. Keep your mouth shut or we'll –"

I peeked around the doctor when I heard the doors open again, and I blinked when an awkward looking woman with a long, graceful neck entered the clinic, along with another woman and a man. And although I couldn't see him, I knew that Garrus was behind the divider thing that split the room up into two different parts.

I smiled, knowing that everything will be okay now. Call me naïve, but I honestly believed that things will be fine since Shepard was here – even if she was a Renegade.

Which I seriously doubt, because that's my Shepard right there, and she was a Paragon – with some bouts of temper and here and there. I added, amused.

I paused, then again, the Powers That Be might decide to pull one over me, and make Shepard a Renegade, just to fuck with me.

Blast and damn!

Please, please, please be a Paragon! I prayed to the Goddess, because, yeah, Renegades have the most fun, but we'll all be fucked if she was a Renegade.

Well, I guess I'll find out what alignment she is in a minute, because the thug also spotted Shepard, and he roughly grabbed the doctor and pulled her to him, using her as a human shield.

Startled by the sudden movement, I stumbled back a bit, blinking, but I didn't otherwise move (well, I didn't move after I was sure that I wasn't in Garrus's way, anyway).

I was going to move after Dr. Michel is freed, then the two of us are going to hide somewhere in the resulting fire fight.

She deserves some loyalty from me, since she was nice enough to try and protect me when she really didn't have too, so I refused to cower away. Instead, I glared at the thug that had the doctor, ignoring the other thugs around me – I was smart enough to equip my shields before leaving the lower Markets, so I knew that I could survive against a few bullets.

"Who're you?" The thug demanded, snarling at Shepard.

Defensive, much?

"Let her go!" My Shepard ordered (uh, she's not really my Shepard anymore, is she? Damn), aiming her pistol at the guy, looking strangely intimidating for a stick of a woman, who still seemed to be stuck in the awkward growing phase of her teenage years, all long limbs and seemingly clumsy. It was her eyes that did it, I thought, feeling oddly proud of the fire that glowed in her violet eyes, alight with the fierce urge to protect.

And with that simple look into her eyes, I knew that this was my Shepard – the first one I made, the one that I worked so hard on, and the one that was my absolute favorite, because she wasn't drop dead gorgeous, and was rather plain, and she couldn't hack her way out of a paper bag, but she was a true, honest to God hero.

It was like seeing my baby all grown up before me.

My awed amazement was cut short when Garrus suddenly shot the thug that was holding Dr. Michel hostage (– Boom! Headshot! –), causing the redhead to cry out in alarm, since she wasn't expecting that (totally understandable, really). I took this as my cue and I grabbed the doctor's hand and pulled her over to cover; I also bent over to grab the now dead thug's pistol as I moved.

Yay! I have a weapon now! Screw having a fucking license – I bet those assholes don't have one, either!

"Come on, Chloe!" I said, using her first name. I figured using her name might provide some kind of subconscious comfort to her.

Or some kind of bullshit like that.

I thought it was funny that the other thugs didn't pay us any mind (seriously, I nearly cackled, but I restrained myself), and they were instead regarding Garrus, who just came out of cover – looking all badass – like one would with a rabid dog.

It was funny. They even took a step back and everything.

And then things stopped being funny when the ensuing fire fight broke out. The doctor and I barely made it to cover when the first shot rang out, causing me to automatically flinch at the loud noise, but I shook it off. It was no different from my father's gun tournaments, the ones he had with his friends, and it was just as loud and irritating as hell.

Just, well, this wasn't target practice. This was real life (to my dismay), and I could get seriously hurt if I'm not careful.

But was that going to stop me?

Haha – fuck no.

I gave the shaken doctor a quick hug, because she looked like she needed one, and I bolted out from cover, heading for some cover that was closer to the thugs, so that I could aim and fire with little difficultly. I snickered at Dr. Michel's alarmed shout, amused by it. I rolled under a desk, and popped out from the other side, and ran over to cover, which happened to be next to Kaiden – damn. I really didn't like him too much in the game.

Oh, well. Time to make nice with the man.

He gave be a bewildered 'What the fuck?' look, causing me to giggle a little, before I poked my head out, scanning for a target. I smirked grimly and shot at a guy with dirty blonde hair, taking out his shields. I felt a pang of guilt when Ashley shot him down with her shotgun, but I blocked it out. Again, this wasn't the time to let my emotions affect me.

"Who are you?" Kaiden demanded, also firing his pistol. After a moment, he Force Pushed someone (oh, wait – damn it! I hate it when I mix my fandoms up like that!), causing them to stumble.

"Tiana Rose Late!" I said promptly, grinning. I love saying my full name, no matter what name I'm going under. "Teenager that's thinking of joining the military – think I'll do any good there, Mr. Biotical Man?"

Haha! It almost sounded like Bionicle!

God, I'm such a dork.

Kaiden snorted, looking warily amused.

"Maybe, if you aren't too cheeky," Ooo! He called me cheeky! I like him now! "I'm Lieutenant Alenko."

I pretended to look surprised, faltering a bit. I looked at him with big eyes, 'stunned'.

"Whoa. Wasn't expecting that," I mumbled, and then I looked at him 'hopefully'. "Um, think you could give me a recommendation or something?"

He glanced at me for a moment, considering me, before focusing back onto the fire fight. "Let's see how you do in actual combat first, kid," Kaiden decided, and I resisted the urge to cheer, because, damn it, I am this close to getting that military funding that I want.

Hell yeah!

For once in my life, I was grateful for being an army vet's daughter, and for all of the things my dear old Daddykins taught me. I was good with a wide variety of guns, from pistols, to shot guns, to rifles – you name it, and I can use it. It wasn't that hard – just aim and shoot. The only problem I really had was remembering to use my right eye, not my left, as I carefully aimed at my targets, but that was a problem that my Dad had, too, at first, so I didn't worry overly much about it.

It was an easy thing to fix. Much more easier than adjusting to the kick of a gun, anyway.

Hell, I can out shoot my older brother, and he's, what? Twelve or so years older than I am? And I was ten or eleven at the time? Yeah, I got this in the bag.

Military funding, here I come!

"Don't you ever do that again!" Dr. Michel raged, and I gave her a nonplussed look. She still looked a little shaky by what just happened, but she was pulling herself together, and I could tell that she was only scolding me to help herself feel better.

So decided to gently tell her off, instead of chewing her out for treating me like a child.

"Miss Michel, pardon me, but you are not my mother." She's long dead, I added silently, smiling grimly. "But I appreciate your concern."

I laughed suddenly. "Oh, and can I have that medi-gel now?" I questioned, grinning.

Dr. Michel snorted. "Of course – I'll even give you a discount!"

"Ooo! I love discounts!" I gleefully clapped my hands, looking giddy.

While we were conversing, I could hear Shepard scolding Garrus for taking such a risky move like that, since he could've shot the doctor, all the while subtlety complimenting him at the same time – she was clever like that.

Hee.

I love my Shepard, even though she isn't mine anymore. It's going to take me a while until I can stop calling her 'mine'.

Great...

Garrus turned to the doctor, looking both sheepish and chagrined.

"Uh, Dr. Michel? Are you hurt?" Aw, he looked so guilty!

He's so cute! I inwardly cooed. I paused. But not as cute as Mordin! I quickly added.

Dr. Michel shakily fidgeted with her hair, where the bullet whizzed by her, but gave him a genuine smile.

"No, I'm okay, thanks to you – " She paused to glance at everyone else, including me, also smiling. "All of you."

"Thanks for trying to protect me." I returned back to her, sounding sincere.

She smiled, looking a bit embarrassed.

My (GAH!) Shepard walked forwards a bit, and glanced at me for a second, looking curious, before she looked at the doctor, her expression serious.

"I know those men threatened you," She spoke softly, compassionately, and yet firmly. "But if you us tell who they work for, we can protect you."

The doctor hesitated, and I put a supporting hand on her arm, silently urging her to tell them, and that it was okay.

Dr. Michel smiled briefly at me, before looking back at Shepard.

"They work for Fist. They wanted to shut me up, keep me from telling Garrus about the quarian." The redhead told her, and although her voice shook, she kept talking.

I felt some respect for her, for doing that. She was obviously nervous, but she was stubbornly telling Shepard anyway – like a true ginger.

"What quarian?" Shepard questioned, looking puzzled.

The doctor looked down, biting her lip. I let her go so that she could pace, understanding the need to work off one's nervous energy.

"A few days ago," she started, anxiously wringing her hands. "A quarian came by my office. She'd been shot, but she wouldn't tell me who did it. I could tell that she was scared, probably on the run." She turned around and walked back to us. "She asked me about the Shadow Broker. She wanted to trade information in exchange for a safe place to hide."

Poor Tali. I thought, looking a bit sad.

"What happened next?" Shepard pressed gently.

"I put her in contact with Fist," Dr. Michel answered simply. "He's an agent for the Shadow Broker."

"Not any more," Garrus said abruptly, causing me to jump a little. I watched as he looked at Shepard, his expression serious. "Now he works for Saren, and the Shadow Broker isn't too happy about it." He finished, almost mockingly. He obviously thought it was ironically funny or something.

Dr. Michel look surprised, almost stunned. "Fist betrayed the Shadow Broker?" she murmured slowly, incredulous. She shook her head, "That's stupid, even for him. Saren must have made him quite the offer!"

"That, or he's lost too many brain cells," I mumbled, causing the doctor to chuckle.

"That quarian must have something Saren wants; something worth crossing the Shadow Broker to get," Garrus deduced, looking thoughtfully at the ceiling.

Shepard nodded, agreeing.

"She must have something that proves he's a traitor," Shepard decided, and I pretended to look surprised at this, while on the inside I was rolling my eyes, going 'well, duh' at the sentence. "Did the quarian mention anything about Saren, or the geth?"

"She did!" The doctor exclaimed. "The information she was going trade – she said it had something to do with the geth," she explained to us.

"She must be able to link Saren to the geth," Garrus said, and I could see a spark of excitement in his eyes. He had a lead. He turned to Shepard, looking at her intently. "There is no way that the Council can ignore this!"

Shepard nodded, smiling grimly. "It's time we paid Fist a visit."

Ooo. She's so cool!

I was about to ask if I could come along (I want that military funding, damn it!), but Garrus jumped in before I could.

The git.

"This is your show, Shepard – " Oh, you have no idea, Garr-Bear. " – But I want to bring Saren down as much as you do. I'm coming with you!" He declared, looking downright determined.

A flicker of surprise appeared across Shepard's face, but she smiled in acceptance, shrugging a little.

"Alright then; welcome abroad, Garrus." She said, looking a bit amused.

"I want to come, too!" I blurted out, impatient. I fail at waiting for people to stop talking when I want to talk, okay? Yes, yes, I'm a rude little shit, but whatever.

I'm ADD and I have issues – I should be allowed to get away with some things.

Everyone stared at me in surprise, causing me to falter a bit.

Crap.

Do they all need to look at me at the same time? Jesus Christ...

But I stubbornly plowed onwards, because I – want – that – funding!

"Yeah, hi there," I waved at them, looking a bit annoyed. "I'm Tiana Rose Late, and I am formally extending my allegiance to you, yada, yada, excreta, excreta, and I want to sign up to your merry little band here. And join the military afterwords. I'm good with any weapons you can think of, I can follow orders, I won't get in your way, I'll be quiet if you want me to, I'm creative with my strategies, and I'm damn good at providing distractions. May I please come with you?" I practically begged, looking desperate.

I looked straight in Shepard's eyes, locking my blue-green irises with her violet orbs, silently pleading with her to say yes.

Hell, I don't know why I'm being so desperate about this. Sure, military funding would be nice, really nice, actually, but it's not that big of a deal. Maybe...maybe it's because I genuinely wanted to join Shepard on her 'Save the Galaxy' thing, maybe I wanted to help. Fuck, I don't know. Maybe it's because I need some security, something familiar, because I'm all alone in this universe, and I don't belong anywhere; the Normandy and her crew were at least familiar to me, and there was a chance that I could fit in there, and not worry about being alone, defenseless.

I'm just a kid, stuck in a place that I once thought was nothing more than fiction. I also needed (really needed) some direction in my life, some sort of plan, or I'll go back to being that empty husk of a girl, who was too busy dreaming her life away to do anything useful, because she was too scared of reality –

I do not want to go back to being that, that, helpless ever again.

I was stronger than that now, damn it...

Shepard stared at me silently for a moment, and then she slowly nodded.

"Okay," she said simply, and I blinked at her in surprise.

"...okay?" I repeated, hardly daring to hope.

"Okay," Shepard smiled. "Welcome, aboard."

I sighed in relief, and smiled quietly to myself.

For better or for worse, I am now on Shepard's team.

Now, let's hope that I won't fuck anything up. I thought privately to myself.