Author's Note: I am so sorry I never replied to the individual reviews, I will do better this time I promise! Thank you to those who added this story to their favorite and follow lists. An extra thank you to those who left reviews: Vorcha Girl, Collard Greens, Jules Hawk, ela11, Jason Thursday, and Meikhaila. I am so glad you liked the first chapter and hope you continue to enjoy their story.
I would love to hear what you think! Thank you again! ... Enjoy! - TLC
Chapter Two
Aria entered her apartment and realized she hadn't been home in days. When she looked to the time, she was grateful she had enough left to open some windows, sweep, and shower before she'd have to bring her mother here. Hannah Shepard was a strict Admiral in the Alliance Navy, and while she was also a warm, caring mother, she was always clear when something disappointed her. Aria learned at an early age to make sure her bed was made, her floor was swept, and her dishes were clean.
She swept quickly, washed up the dishes and set them to dry before heading into the bathroom for a shower. She turned on the water and stripped. She stepped under the steady stream and closed her eyes as she turned her face up. She turned her back to the shower head and opened her eyes with a deep sigh. As the water ran down her body, she let her mind wander to James, and the night before.
James had been a blessing in disguise when Anderson assigned him to her. After unintentionally destroying the Bahak System and surrendering the Normandy and herself to the Alliance, Anderson had assigned James to lead a group of five marines in her guard detail. She hated him initially, she didn't need a guard. She had surrendered. It didn't help that he clearly held some resentment towards her.
The third day of her incarceration, James was being particularly surly as he walked with her to the gym. She called him out on it. It was then that she learned of the events on Fehl Prime. He'd sacrificed a colony of people, people he had come to care about, to save data to stop the Collectors. The Collectors whose homeworld she was in the process of destroying. He'd made the decision to let the colonists die – the same decision she would have made – and part of him blamed her.
"You're so pissed off at me, hit me," She challenged him then. He cocked his head at her, question knotting his brow. "Come on, we'll spar. I think we both have a lot to work through," she added as she moved to the center of the room. He watched her for a moment before following. It lasted close to twenty minutes, their dance. He was quicker than he looked, considering his size. She was stronger now than ever before, due to the Cerberus enhancements. He'd gotten frustrated with her when he wasn't able to score, and rushed her. She used the momentum and lifted him off his feet, over her shoulder and down to the ground, hard. He'd groaned, from impact, and embarrassment, and rolled to his back. She extended a hand, and he took it. She pulled him to his feet. If this did nothing else, it proved it was her own decision to stay imprisoned. If she wanted to leave, James wasn't going to keep her in.
She didn't release his hand when he went to turn away and his fire laced eyes met hers. She explained that Cerberus wouldn't let her contact the Alliance and that they didn't have time to go behind their back. She also told him he'd made the right decision on Fehl Prime, and that sometimes the right decision still felt wrong. She noticed his eyes soften, and darken, as they locked on hers and she remained silent. It was the first time she blushed. He thanked her quietly, and she dropped his hand and started her own workout.
Later that week was the first time the Batarians attacked her quarters. She'd heard the sounds of fighting outside her room and reached to her bedside table for her pistol. Which, thanks to her current situation, she did not have. She cursed as the door opened. Her heart was in her throat and she tasted the bile as she realized just how vulnerable she was. Gunfire rang out behind the hulking form in the doorway; it was the first time she was grateful to see James. He tossed a pistol at her, with a spare thermal clip, and she rolled out of bed and met him at the doorway.
It was a short fight. There weren't many assassins and they were attacking out of emotion, which made them sloppy. As the fight died down, Shepard heard a click and turned towards the sound. James knocked into her, and wrapped his arms around her taking her with him over the couch seconds before the grenade went off. Sirens wailed, lights flashed in red and blue as the fire suppression system started. Cold water rained hard down on them. Shepard's ears were ringing, and her mind was swimming. She felt warm, rough hands on either side of her face and opened her eyes. They locked on James' instantly. He was lying on top of her, staring down at her – concern etched on his features.
It was that moment they both realized he was there to keep them out more than her in.
He was nicer to her after that day, and she grew to appreciate his presence even as her frustration mounted. They became friends, and their friendly chatter changed to fun flirtation. There was something about him that was different. Something about the way he flirted with her, the way he spoke to and about her. Something about the way his eyes would follow her, and his lips would twist at the corners when she blushed. It was like he knew something she didn't.
It was quite possible he did.
Aria Shepard was not entirely inexperienced when she met James Vega, but her experience was limited and lackluster. It was difficult, growing up on a warship with your mother constantly around the corner, to build any kind of romantic relationship. That's ignoring the fact that boys her age were in rare supply on a ship, and most of the time she had her face buried in tech and old Sci-Fi novels. By the time she was 16 and old enough that men were taking notice, any new recruits assigned to Hannah Shepard's ship knew better than to look at her daughter with anything less than honorable intentions. It left Aria's options quite slim.
Once she enlisted, there was one fellow marine with whom she had a brief relationship. He had been her first of many things, and as her first, her experiences with him were fumbled at best. Their relationship ended when boot camp did and their assignments separated them. She was upset, but not exactly heartbroken. She focused on her work. Then Elysium, the Star of Terra, and N7 status changed the way she was viewed.
She went from being untouchable, to being a victory, or someone to be feared. There were men she was interested in, that she took home, who were so excited to be with Commander Shepard, they didn't last long enough to please her. It would be over before she realized it had started, and she spent a fair amount of time after reassuring them she'd climaxed, and that they were great lovers but she was tired and they should leave. They would stumble over their clothes, and lock the door behind them. She would sigh, and take the time to ease her frustration herself before rolling over and going to sleep.
What was worse, was the men who were so pleased with themselves that they were actually sleeping with Commander Shepard that they focused on themselves. They would take their pleasure from her, some times a little rougher than she would like, completely oblivious to the woman beneath them. Once they were finished, they would roll off her, self-satisfied smiles on their faces as she tried not to cry. They would dress, and leave and she would roll over and go to sleep.
Eventually, she decided it wasn't worth it. She either ended up taking care of her needs herself, or crying herself to sleep, so she stopped looking, and stopped bringing men home. Not that there had been that many, but it had been enough that she knew it wasn't right. Yet, there was something about the way James spoke to her, something that shot right passed those defenses to places she hadn't thought about in years. He spoke to her like his greatest pleasure would be pleasing her. Her heart would race, and her palms would sweat, and damn it she would turn cherry red – every time; he would have that cat's got the canary grin on his face – every time.
She stepped out of the shower, and wrapped a towel around her body catching her reflection in the mirror. She had changed so much, on the inside, it surprised her sometimes that she couldn't see it on the outside. She dried quickly and dressed in casual civvies. She put a baseball cap on and pulled it low over her eyes as she set out to meet her mom.
She walked through Arcturus II and her mind drifted back to the Reaper War, as it usually did when she was out alone in public. When she thought about the war, there was always one bright spot. At the risk of sounding cliché, it was James that had gotten her through the darkest moments. When the Reapers hit, her first thought was to get to the Normandy. Her second thought, was to make sure James was there with her. He had become such a constant in her day to day life she didn't want to leave Earth without him.
It was in that moment she realized she cared for him more than she should. When he met her in the cargo hold, the relief on his face warmed her, but then he'd argued with her about leaving Earth. He threatened to leave the Normandy and stay behind to fight. Anderson had reinstated her, and in that instant she pulled rank, and watched as his professionalism built a wall between them. She knew it was better this way. If he was to serve under her, they had to remain professional. If she was expected to send him to the front lines, she couldn't worry about him more than anyone else
When Kaidan was injured on Mars, it shook her. Kaidan Alenko had been her best friend before Cerberus. There had been rumors of a relationship between them, but nothing had ever happened. He was like her big brother. They'd bonded over their love of tech, and Sci-Fi movies and books. The rumors did, however, offer them something to laugh about. His injury was the first time she realized that this war could take people away from her, people she cared about. She sat next to him as the ship rushed to the Citadel, watching him and making sure he kept breathing. At some point, James had entered and stood behind her. A silent sentinel at her back, and she had never appreciated him more.
James decided to stay on the Normandy. He fought at her side through every mission, and helped her decompress after; always remaining a gentleman, a professional, never once crossing the line between what was right and what she wanted. Though, it was what she hoped he wanted to. It gave her something to work towards. The end of the war, when they wouldn't be working together again, and she could tell him how she felt.
That she was pretty sure she was in love with him.
Just before the final assault on Earth, Shepard ordered the Normandy into dry-dock for repairs and restocking. The time also gave her crew some shore leave, which she knew they all needed. A chance to breathe before jumping into what would most likely be their final battle. David had given her use of his apartment, and James had made sure to fall asleep in a spare room every night knowing she wouldn't wake him and send him home. She appreciated his presence, even if part of her was anxious that they would never get their chance. Part of her wanted him to make a move, but she knew he wouldn't. He respected her, and their work, too much to jeopardize anything. Though, there were moments, early in the morning over breakfast, or late at night in front of the fire, when she had the sense that he wanted her.
He would reach over and take her hand, or she would lean into his side and he would wrap his arm around her and they would just take comfort in the proximity. It still wasn't enough for her. For the first time in years, she wanted someone, she wanted him. Near the end of their leave, Joker and James convinced her to have a house party. She had the Normandy crew past and present in the house and the alcohol flowed all night. She'd had a pretty healthy buzz going when the dancing had started.
She was a coordinated soldier, graceful in battle, and at ease to the beat of gunfire, but put her on a dancefloor and she was all awkward limbs and left feet. Her friends were laughing, and she knew they were laughing at her but she didn't care. She let the music move her, and didn't think about anything else.
Then she'd felt large, warm, calloused hands on her hips. She stopped moving and her heart nearly stopped as they slid around her waist and pulled her back against him. She was not surprised by the size of him or the strength she found in his frame as he led her in a slow sensual dance. Her body was pressed against him. His breath brushed across her neck and she could feel his physical reaction to her. She was, however, surprised by his tenderness. The way his fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt, grazing her abdomen. His lips barely brushed against her neck, and she shivered. Her hands moved to cover his and their fingers zipped together. Her friends' laughter turned to cat calls, and James slowly turned her in his arms.
Her eyes met his and her breath caught in her throat at what she saw there. He wanted her, he wanted to protect her, and hold her. She let him, his arms wrapped around her waist one hand resting just at the curve of her rear as her hands slid up his arms and around his neck. She may be inexperienced, but she was fairly certain he wanted to kiss her, and more, but there were so many people around. After a minute, she stepped backwards, and he followed easily. Slowly, she led them away from the group, towards a spare bedroom. The door sighed closed behind them, and the sounds of music and laughter was muffled instantly. She reached up and traced the scars on his face and his eyes closed as he leaned into her touch. She stood on her toes, and pressed her lips to his.
To say it was electric would be an understatement. It was as if everything was suddenly right. Everything that she had been through, everything that had happened had led to this moment. She whimpered as her mouth opened for him, and he nearly growled as he backed her up against the wall. She felt weightless with desire and his hands on her body were the only thing keeping her down. She wound her arms around his neck, holding him as close to her as she could.
It was a long, slow, molten kiss and when he finally broke it his eyes were dark with need. Still, he pulled himself away from her and she felt the loss acutely in her chest. She spoke his name, in a hoarse whisper, her hand moving to cover her mouth. He turned and looked at her, pain in his eyes, "I can't do this," he answered, his words slurred with drink. She chewed her lip and pried herself away from the wall. She nodded, blinking back tears, and nearly stumbled to bed. She laid down without removing her boots, and was sleeping moments later.
She woke the next morning, mortified. She wished she didn't remember, but she did. She had thrown herself at him and he had rejected her. The apartment was blissfully empty, all traces of the party had been cleaned, too, and she wondered who she had to thank for that. The ship was scheduled to depart that evening, and after a shower and a very light breakfast she went back to the ship and straight to her quarters.
She held her briefing over the comm. They had about a day and a half's worth of travel before the final assault on Earth. She ordered everyone to prep, their equipment, their weapons, but also themselves. She ordered quiet downtime in the evening hours, and gave free reign over the QEC to anyone with someone to contact. She spoke with her mother, trying to convince Hannah she was ready, that they were ready. Aria knew she was trying to convince herself, but Hannah played along,
She hadn't seen James since the night before, and she couldn't blame him for steering clear of her. She had crossed a line when she kissed him, and there was no going back. She was just glad he had returned to the Normandy. She was at her desk, pouring herself over data pads, processing numbers and trying to make sure they hadn't missed anything when the door to her cabin opened. She jumped and spun, and was surprised to see James standing there.
She ran a nervous hand through her hair as her heart leapt to her throat. "Did you need something?" She asked, her eyes darting around the room, looking at anything but him. She kept her hands fisted at her sides and didn't look at him until he whispered her name.
Her eyes locked on his as he crossed the space between them in three short steps. One of his hands slid into her hair and held the base of her head as the other went to her hip and pulled her into him. She gasped as his mouth met hers, and he took advantage instantly deepening the kiss and lifting her against him. She moaned and he took a step forward setting her on the desk as her arms wound around his neck. Her hands went to his shirt, and she tugged. He broke the kiss and pulled back enough to pull it over his head. Her eyes immediately went to his chest and the spattering of scars and ink that decorated his skin. He flexed instinctively as he stepped closer to her.
"Wait, I thought, I'm confused," She admitted, placing a hand on his chest.
"About what?" He asked, not moving any closer, though she could feel it in his chest, in the tension in his muscles that he wanted to.
"Last night, you said," She was surprised by the tremble in her voice, and the rush of heat in her cheeks when he grinned. He covered her hand with his, and lifted her fingers to his lips.
She watched as he kissed the tips of her fingers, and she chewed her lip, "Last night, we were both very, very drunk," He replied, his voice deep and husky with desire. "I want this, I want you, but I want to remember it," He stepped closer, and she let him. "I want to remember, every second of it," He dropped his head and kissed her, and she melted into him. He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around him, trying to bring him as close to her as possible.
She had been right. That night with James had been the best experience of her life. She thought she knew her body, she thought she knew what she liked and what she needed. James knew better. He took his time with her, coaxing her to life beneath his hands and mouth. Never had she actually climaxed with another person, so to reach her peak twice before he'd even entered her had her completely mindless. She was a slave to the pleasure firing through her veins.
She was so comfortable with him; she trusted completely. When he lifted her legs, resting her ankles near his shoulders and almost folding her in half as he moved inside her, she felt no embarrassment. This was the difference she had sensed in him. He changed their position to make the experience better for her. When he told her to get on her hands and knees, it wasn't so he could dominate, or embarrass her. It was so she could feel him from a different angle; so she could feel all of him, and she did, willingly.
Afterwards, he'd laid on top of her, not wanting to move and peppered her face with kisses. Their bodies were hot, sticky, and they were completely sated. She'd smiled against his mouth as he kissed her once more before shifting off her. She waited for him to let go of her, for him to stand and dress and leave. He didn't. He'd pulled her closer to him, and wrapped his arms around her. She sighed deeply. She'd never felt more like a woman than she did in that moment. She knew what she was fighting for now. She was fighting for humanity and the galaxy. She was fighting for the man she was molded against now and the hope of more nights like this. She was fighting for love.
With that thought, she reached the docks just as Hannah Shepard stepped off the shuttle. She smiled at her mother as Hannah moved quickly to stand in front of her. Hannah's hands cupped Shepard's face and Aria smiled. "Hi, Mom," She said as Hannah wrapped her in a hug. Hannah held her for a long moment, the hug of a mother was like nothing else.
"So, tell me all about him," Hannah demanded as they turned, and Shepard laughed through her blush as they made their way back to her apartment. Shepard started filling her in, though, she wouldn't tell her mother everything.