A/N: Thank you very much for the lovely response to this. Lots of FemShepley love on here, as well as a plethora of amaze-balls people willing to drop a review. You're all rad, and I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long for the update.

Chapter 2

Day 3

"A pessimist is what an optimist calls a realist."

Commander Shepard trudged ahead of her two-man escort, her mind in a spin. Nobody could've warned her about what this trip to the Citadel would have in store for her.

The Council not believing her hadn't really been that much of a surprise. Disappointing, but not surprising. That was good. Shepard could deal with disappointment, but she couldn't frigging stand surprises. She just... hated them. It messed with her sense of control, and if there was one thing Commander Shepard was known for, it was her ability to grasp a situation by the balls, and keep it tightly leashed.

In that sense, the Council's decision to tell her to piss off was right. Galactic diplomacy was all about probability, evidence, peacekeeping and the balance of power. Asking them to kick a Spectre out, a turian Spectre, no less, just on Shepard's say-so, had been a long shot. Given humanity's past with the turians, and Anderson's own personal grudge against Saren, she couldn't really blame them for viewing the weak circumstantial evidence as a cowardly ploy by the Alliance to settle an old score. She wouldn't have believed herself either, so it was silly to expect other people to.

Finding Tali, the quarian, in time to save her life and get the evidence they needed on Saren had been an absolute coup, and exactly what she needed after the shit-storm that had been Eden Prime. Losing a marine never felt good. Losing civilians felt even worse. But what had gone down on Eden Prime had been a categorical cluster-fuck without precedence. Bringing Saren's crimes to light had at least made her feel like some semblance of equality had been restored to the scales of justice - even though she had now been lumbered with the duty to bring that justice to fruition. It also made her feel like maybe, just maybe, her reign as XO of the Normandy wasn't completely cursed; as much as having a dead Corporal and a murdered Spectre on her rap-sheet might say otherwise.

Reflexively, she quickened her pace when she thought about starting the mission. She needed to get back aboard the Normandy. She had some very unusual new squad-mates awaiting her return. She hoped that the crew were being good to them... Or not total assholes, at least.

Shepard had always kept a fairly open mind when it came to aliens. She held the occasional bigoted stereotype in mind, it was human nature to do so. But she couldn't help it if every single slaver she'd killed happened to be a batarian, or every single stripper she'd tipped happened to be an asari, or every single asshole she'd met happened to be a turian. It was what it was, but she made a concerted effort not to let those experiences paint an entire race. Simply put - some aliens were nice, and some were pricks, just like humans. You had to take individuals based on their merits, not their species. After all, what would aliens think of humans if all they had to go on was a jerk-off like Donnell Udina?

She was aware that she was an anomaly within the Alliance. There were still so many deeply held hatreds after the First Contact War, and the ongoing skirmishes with the batarians hadn't helped ease galactic tensions. Most of the people currently in the Alliance had lost a family member or friend to one of the conflicts, and for some of them, that gave them all the fuel they needed to hold a grudge against every alien. There were definitely a few Terra Firma supporters in the navy, to say the least, but Commander Shepard was not one of them.

The new team she had assembled seemed strong, and she had a good feeling about it. The krogan, Wrex, seemed like a bit of a loose cannon, but if she could figure out how to connect with him, she saw great potential. Tali seemed sweet, industrious and intelligent, and more importantly, in need of protection. And Garrus, the turian, seemed like he was noble, loyal to those who earned it, and not afraid to put a bullet between the eyes of a traitor. Rounding off the squad was Kaidan, the nice, powerful and respectful Lieutenant, who provided a perfect counter-balance to Ashley, who was as sharp with her tongue as she was with her gun. Not entirely a bad thing. A bit of lip never hurt anybody, and in the short amount of time Shepard had known the Chief, she quite enjoyed the woman's no-nonsense approach to conversation.

Anderson would keep the crew and aliens out of trouble while Shepard was ashore, but she was still keen to get her last errand done quickly so she could head back to nip any potential xenophobic issues in the bud, Shepard-style. After all, she was a Spectre now. She was technically above all of them, even Anderson, not that she'd ever push that point. The thought made her head spin slightly. Spectre. The first of her species to be granted that honour. Such a privilege, and a responsibility…

She turned back to Lieutenant Alenko and Gunnery-Chief Williams. "You two. Why don't you head back to the Presidium? Grab some lunch. I've gotta make a quick stop at the lower wards."

"Umm… ma'am?" Kaidan asked, his suspiciously manicured brows wrinkling in curiosity.

Shepard cracked her neck, a bad habit she had formed that always displayed itself whenever she was uncomfortable. And right now, feeling the semi-judgemental gaze of her subordinates on her, she felt very uneasy. She didn't want to explain herself, it was too personal. She could call the whole thing off, but she had no idea when she would get back to the Citadel again, and it would only take 15 minutes, tops.

"You heard me, Lieutenant," she said, keeping her tone quiet and professional, "I have business to attend to in the lower wards. Now be a gentleman and take Williams out for lunch. God knows she could use it after dealing with the standard of fare that's been getting served up on the ship." There was the ghost of a smile curling her lips at the end of the sentence, but it disappeared as quickly as it had shown itself.

Kaidan blushed slightly and Ashley rolled her eyes at him. If she had originally been doubting Shepard's leadership chops, she was definitely scratching her head at the fact that Alenko was currently three ranks above her. Nice was one thing, but you needed to be more than nice to make it in the Alliance, and he was just missing... something. That aggressive edge that tells your enemies that the gun pointing at them is not only loaded, but the person holding it won't hesitate to pull the trigger.

"Come on LT, the Commander gave us an order. So be a gentleman and buy me some damn lunch."

Standing his ground, his gaze remaining fixed on Shepard, he shook his head. "With all due respect, ma'am, I have to insist that the Chief and I come with you. The lower wards are dangerous, especially for a human."

Ashley internally chided herself. She should have thought of that. Letting the first human Spectre get robbed or killed on their watch would not bode well for either of them.

Shepard pursed her lips. Alenko was a Citadel newbie, spouting off ignorant crap based on what he'd read on the extranet. She'd survived in much tougher terrain than the goddamn Citadel, but still, it wouldn't kill her to bring them along. They might learn a thing or two, and they could both stand to lose those embarrassing slack-jawed gawks they'd been wearing ever since the Normandy had docked. This was a good chance to break them in.

"Suit yourselves," Shepard said with a shrug as she turned on her heel and led the way.

Ashley's eyes lit up as she followed the Commander's quick steps. The Citadel was awesome, and the lower you got, the better it was. The halls became narrower and the lush fauna displays from the Presidium gave way to neon lighting, as the trio made their way through the markets. This was much more to Ashley's liking. The Presidium was nice and all - if you liked pretty flowers, stuffy politicians, and a bunch of tourists - but this was where the real action was. The markets were alive with activity, and Ashley found her attention constantly getting dragged from stall to stall, seeing pretty much every gun mod she could ever want, all within reaching range - if she had a spare 50,000 credits lying around, that is.

Shepard set a brutal pace, and Ashley couldn't help but wonder exactly what had crawled up the Commander's ass. She'd just become famous, she should be ecstatic, but she seemed tense and distracted. Ashley had watched her during the ceremony, and she'd been still and silent as a statue. Hadn't even cracked a smile. She either couldn't care less that she'd just been written into the galaxy's history books, or she had the best frigging poker face that Ashley Williams had ever seen. Ash suspected it was the latter. Self-control seemed to be the Commander's jam. The only totally natural moment Ash had seen in three whole days was the accidental laugh that erupted the first night in the Executive Officer's cabin. Apart from that, the woman was wound tighter than a spring. Polite, friendly and nice, but in desperate need of a good screw.

Ashley dismissed the thought immediately. Everyone onboard the Normandy could probably deal with getting laid more frequently, herself included, but it wouldn't be happening. A decent amount of shore leave didn't seem to be on the cards while they were busy tracking down a murdering turian that was hell-bent on destroying the human race, and anything 'in-house' would be fraternisation. Ashley had gone there once or twice when she was younger, back when she was blissfully unaware of just how deep the black stain against the Williams name ran. But after two or three occasions of getting passed over for promotions that she had earned, it suddenly put sticking to the rules in a whole new perspective. Even if that particular one was an exercise in frustration at times.

Ripping Ashley out of her impure thoughts, Shepard came to a sudden stop out the front of a reasonably clean looking market stall. There was a mustard coloured batarian leaning at the counter, reading a data-mag, but all the signage was in another language, so Ashley had no idea what the store was selling, or why Shepard had come down here.

"Shepard," the batarian greeted with a quick nod as he straightened up and put his reading material to the side. "Another one?"

Ashley's lips twisted slightly. Shepard was on last name basis with a batarian? Ashley didn't have anything against them, per se, but she didn't go out of her way to befriend them, either. Then again, she probably wouldn't've hauled ass all over the Citadel to invite a krogan, a quarian and a turian aboard the most advanced vessel in the human fleet. Just thinking the words sounded like the start of a lame joke...

"Two, Gorl. It was a rough day," Shepard answered as she walked behind the counter of his stand and shook his hand.

Turning towards her entourage, Shepard shifted awkwardly, her eyes drifting back and forth between Ashley and Kaidan. "You two look around, see if anything takes your fancy. I'll be about ten minutes."

Ashley and Kaidan glanced at each other curiously as Shepard disappeared behind a privacy partition with the strange batarian.

"I don't like this," Ashley whispered to the Lieutenant as she rested her back against the counter, "What the hell is she doing back there?"

"No idea," Kaidan answered warily, leaning beside her and looking around at the crowd.

"One of us should go and check on her," Ashley said pointedly, staring the handsome marine down, "Like, the one of us who's ranked Lieutenant."

His eyes bulged slightly and he shook his head vigorously. "No way. What if this is some... girly thing she's getting done? I can't go back there."

"You think the Commander is getting a female checkup from a batarian in the lower wards of the Citadel?" Ashley asked, raising her eyebrows at him pointedly, "Puh-lease."

There was a low buzzing sound, and a groan of pain from behind the partition. The two marines mirrored each other's expression, their faces wrinkling in concern.

"He's hurting her," Ashley hissed, pushing off from the counter and taking a step towards the counter, "I'm checking it out. Can't just stay standing out here like a couple of dummies."

She was half hoping Kaidan would say something to stop her, but he didn't, and she was committed to the course. Passing the empty counter and pushing back the screen in one quick, thrusting movement, she revealed the Commander - minus the top half of her armour - hunched over on a bed in a small, sterile looking room. The buzzing stopped as Ashley entered and the batarian's head appeared from behind Shepard's back, where he was sitting with a set of magnifying glasses covering his four eyes, and a large omni-needle in his hand.

"Friend of yours, Shepard?" the batarian asked in his low baritone drawl, as he eyed Ashley off with annoyance.

Shepard looked up casually, the back of her tank top lifted up to expose the skin to the batarian as he tattooed it. "Something the matter, Chief?" she asked, wincing slightly as the batarian's needle continued its assault on her back.

"You're getting a tattoo?" Ashley asked, looking away from the hint of cleavage that was exposed in the Commander's current sitting position. This was one of the last things she'd considered ever walking in on Commander 'straight-laced' Shepard doing.

"Yes," Shepard answered with a look over her shoulder at the needle's progress.

Ashley waited for something. Anything. An elaboration, an anecdote, hey, maybe even a glimpse of what had been so damn important that Shepard had dragged them into the bowels of the Citadel. But Shepard just sat there, satisfied that 'yes' was answer enough, and Ashley quickly became aware that she had been staring for too long.

"Do you have any ink, Chief?" Shepard asked, inclining her head with interest.

"No ma'am," Ashley responded, folding her arms over her chest self consciously.

"D'you want one? Maybe something to commemorate your unit? My shout."

Ashley cocked her head and thought about it for a second. She'd always wanted a tattoo. Her Mom would freak, but as long as her sisters could be bribed into silence, Mary Williams would never need to know. Sarah would be a hard-sell, that kid had a big mouth, but Ashley could just remind her of the 'snitches wind up with stitches' rule, and that should shut her up. Then Ashley had a mental image of her father, tall and raven haired, spittle flying into his closely cropped beard as he lectured her on getting a 'tramp stamp', and the fleeting urge disappeared. It almost made her smile. He was five years underground, and yet there she was, still Daddy's girl. The thought made her wonder if Shepard's parents approved of her getting a back full of ink from a batarian in the crappiest part of the Citadel.

"Not today ma'am," Ashley answered quickly, stepping out from behind the privacy screen.

Six long strides was all it took for her to get back out to her original leaning position. Alenko eyed her off curiously, finally clearing his throat to speak.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Well… what's the Commander doing back there?"

"If you wanna go and start some scuttlebutt about the Commander, be my guest, but you're sure as hell not gettin' the goss from me."

With a quick, professional nod, Kaidan dropped it. Ashley smirked to herself. Despite his decided lack of bad-assery, she liked Alenko. He was like a big, gentle puppy dog. With a killer set of abs…

"C'mon LT, let's check out these stalls. I can't afford any of it, but a girl can dream," Ashley said with a quick jerk of her head.

Kaidan fell into step with her, walking from stall to stall. He eventually meandered off in the direction of the biotic amps, and Ashley got intimately acquainted with one of the weapons stands. Ash was close to quite literally drooling over a particularly powerful sniper scope, when she became vaguely aware of the new presence standing behind her. Turning quickly, she found herself face to face with Commander Shepard, fully armoured again - thank God.

"Ready?" Shepard asked without waiting for a response, leading the way back to the staircase out of the market district.

Instead of trailing behind with Alenko, Ashley sped up her steps, bringing herself shoulder to shoulder with Shepard. The Commander didn't particularly notice her company, keeping her gaze trained on the tiled floor in front of her.

"What'd you get?" Ashley asked, rolling her head to the side to get a better view of the woman's face, "On your back, I mean."

"Just something Gorl's been working on for a while," Shepard answered with a quick shift of her shoulders.

"Gorl? That the batarian's name?"

"Yeah, that's right," Shepard responded with a brusque nod, the beginnings of a frown starting to work its way onto her forehead.

"You… let batarians tattoo you a lot?" Ashley asked, sensing the Commander's discomfort but not quite being able to drop the topic entirely.

Humanity had a chequered past with the batarians. Like… really chequered. A human giving a batarian access to their body was beyond stupid. Especially a human who had just become the first Spectre in their history. The Commander seemed intelligent and fairly savvy, but this was just an assassination waiting to happen.

"Gorl's the only artist I ever let work on me," came the reply. Shepard was getting uncomfortable with the questioning. She liked Williams, but they weren't BFF, and this topic wasn't something she was ready to discuss.

"I know it's none of my business, ma'am, but is that safe?"

Ashley felt a moment of regret the second the words were out of her mouth, before she internally quashed it. This was her Commander, and the Executive Officer of the ship she'd been assigned to. It would be irresponsible not to say something.

Shepard's pace slowed somewhat, and she looked the marine over. "Why wouldn't it be? Because you think tattoos are dangerous, or because the guy holding the needle was a batarian?"

Ashley clenched her jaw and decided not to respond, a feat in itself. She wanted a bit of time to formulate the best way to say this. She'd discussed her controversial opinions with people in the past, and it often led to... misunderstandings. There were usually two outcomes that came from said discussions. 1) She got called a xenophobe, or 2) She managed to accidentally tap into a bigotry-goldmine and get stuck listening to somebody's racist rant.

That wasn't what she wanted. She didn't want to be known as that 'crazy girl who hates aliens,' but she didn't want to be blind to the potential dangers of the galaxy either. Racism and patriotism were two very different animals in Ashley Williams' book, and she needed time to gather her thoughts before she tried to explain that to Shepard. Damn Tennyson for not writing a poem that covered galactic relations...

"Maybe we can talk later?" Ashley finally responded as they made their way to the elevator.

"Sounds good, Williams," Shepard said with a nod, before moving slightly closer and dropping her voice, "And do you think we could keep the tattoo thing between us? I don't really want the crew to know something that personal about me."

Ashley gave a small mock salute. "Marine's honour, ma'am. Your secret's safe with me."

Shepard smiled for the first time that day, the expression making her look completely different; younger, happier, prettier. "Thank you. Now we'd better speed it up. Captain Anderson's probably wondering where we are. Can't expect him to run a ship without his XO there to do all the paperwork."

"Sucks to be you," Ashley blurted out, earning her second small smile from Shepard that day, "Ma'am."