Under Better Circumstances

by RebelATS

Lt James Vega is in charge of protecting the Alliance's most valuable asset - Commander Nevada Shepard. Little did he know that it was the beginning of their story. Declaring repeatedly how romance of any sort is just a distraction to her, Nevada is devoted to her duty. But when the heat of the moment is calling for her to bend the limits, will she finally succumb to her desires?

2. Chapter 2: After Hours Visitor

Chapter 2 – After Hours Visitor

The lights in the Detention Center were dimmed and the halls were quiet. Apart from a couple of Alliance soldiers doing their rounds around the building, Nevada Shepard was alone. Locked in her room night after night, she had nothing to do but patiently wait for morning to break over the horizon. Every night the silence haunted her, tugging on the verge of her sanity. The longer she waited for her trial, the more her isolation crept into the depths of her mind. She was a prisoner restricted to a fully furnished chamber but it felt like an empty cell where her only company was her memories.

Lying down on the bed, her eyes welled up. She wanted nothing more than to spend another night on the hard mattress in her quarters aboard the Normandy. It may have been unpleasant to sleep in but it was where she belonged. She was a Commander stranded without a mission, without a team, without a ship. Even with her title being revoked, the protocol was so ingrained in her lifestyle that she was having difficulties adjusting. Not even the soft pillows or the warm sheets made this confinement comfortable.

Knowing no one would hear, she openly confessed, "I miss my bed… I miss my crew… I miss the Normandy… I miss the battles… I miss being… me."

Rolling onto her side, she peered around the dim room. Snow lightly shimmered outside her window, reflecting off the soft glow from the halogens of Alliance HQ. Blanketing the grounds in a sea of white and camouflaging the surrounding buildings to blend together. The silhouette of a pine tree sat in the corner near the window, its dark branches dressed in various ornaments and tinsel. Nevada avoided celebrating holidays but the higher ups insisted she have a tree… saying it would be good for morale. Even though it was nothing more than a lifeless piece of plastic, she could swear it was begging her to plug in the lights. Maybe it was the mysticism of the season growing on her.

Shepard shifted onto her back and stared at the ceiling, counting the holes scattered across the panels. She sighed, "Another restless night, another…"

She got interrupted by a faint knock at the door. Immediately sitting up on the bed, she fixated her concentration on the doorway. Another knock vibrated from it, followed by the clicking noises of the door being unlatched. Her hand instinctively reached for where her holster was only to be painfully reminded that all her privileges were stripped, including her means of protection. Her heart pounded rapidly against her chest cavity, anticipating the worst. She had many enemies who would jump at the chance to take her out… especially with her being unarmed and the center being manned at minimal capacity for the holidays.

In the flick of a switch, the light near the door came on and revealed a burly man with a large bottle of tequila in his hand. Shepard's tension eased at the sight of the Lieutenant. Sighing the weight off her chest, curiosity quickly replaced her apprehension. Usually James Vega was following in Admiral Anderson's shadow, being a dedicated Alliance marine with the occasional bout of pushing the limits of protocol. But this was new for him. Even though his visits were becoming a daily occurrence, they were never at this hour. Well past the lockdown curfew and something he could be easily reprimanded for.

"Feliz Navidad, Commander… Thought you could use some company," he smiled, wholeheartedly as he quietly closed the door and directed his attention to the woman staring at him.

"You know you shouldn't be here, Lieutenant. Especially with that bottle," Nevada grumbled, stirring away from her sheets and bringing her legs to dangle at the edge of her mattress.

"I shouldn't be calling you Commander either but I still do."

"You'll be in a world of trouble if anyone finds out."

"No one will. I have some compadres working the rounds tonight. We're in the clear until sunrise," he added, walking over to her holiday tree and plugging in the lights. The multicolored bulbs presented a comforting glow to the room, their ambient hues dressing the walls with a cheerful shine. He grabbed two glasses from the counter and placed them alongside the tequila bottle on her nightstand. Pulling away the chair from her nearby desk, he placed it next to her bed and took a seat, "Plus, no one should spend Christmas alone."

Trying to make sense of his after hours intrusion, she remarked, "But what if I wanted to be alone?"

"No one likes being alone… including you, Shepard… especially on the holidays."

"How would you know?"

"I think I know you well enough by now," he smiled, recollecting their time spent since they first encountered each other on Omega. When he first received Anderson's orders over supervising Shepard's detainment, Vega suggested he keep her company during in isolation. His visits started with weekly chess matches where they shared war stories and discussed the inner politics of Alliance headquarters. But soon he was finding ways to visit her more and more frequently.

"Fine…," her eyes shied away.

"Plus, I brought a gift," he grinned while shaking the large bottle in his hands.

"But I don't celebrate Christmas."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Too much of a distraction, duty always comes first," she commanded, her authoritative disposition still reverberating in her voice.

Pouring a good portion of tequila into each glass, James added a splash more into his before mentioning, "But you're not on duty right now."

"Thanks for reminding me about my 'voluntary' decommission," she sneered, rubbing at her wrists. The lingering mental impression of the heavy military-grade cuffs plagued her thoughts. Even with her shackles gone, she could feel their haunting presence.

"How about this… we set everything aside and just drink for the sake of it?" he asked, handing her a filled glass, "You haven't been able to have a drink in months. So let's enjoy this contraband."

"I can handle that," she took the glass and held it up, "Cheers."

"Salud," Vega purred, letting his Spanish accent leak out.

The burn from the tequila awakened every one of her senses. This was her first time drinking since she had been detained. Shepard stared at the empty glass, feeling the warmth work its way through her veins. Letting the sensation begin to engulf her, she curiously wondered "What made you think that I was feeling lonely?"

"You carry yourself well around others but I can see right through that thick skin of yours. I know what you are really hiding, you can't fool me."

"Maybe you do, Lieutenant. Or maybe I have you fooled as well," Shepard scoffed, "But consider me intrigued, so continue…"

"Well you have nothing to do when I'm not here, I can see how much you crave attention every time I enter and your eyes lock onto me… Plain and simply, you're miserable here."

"Of course I'm miserable. I'm in a holding cell," she snarled, her fingers tensely gripping onto the bottle of tequila as she poured another round, "They are testing my patience… and my sanity… I'm under constant scrutiny and it feels like they want me to go insane, they want me to snap. Then they can have a valid reason for their actions."

"At least you have me around to keep you company."

"I don't need y-" her voice pierced, stopping mid-sentence to further evaluate her statement. Nevada eyed the Lieutenant patiently waiting for her response. She changed her tone to emphasize the next series of words, "I don't need company but… I do appreciate you spending all this time with me. It does help."

James promptly sat up, smiling, "You know what else helps?"

Puzzled, she raised her eyebrow and asked, "What?"

"Another drink," he pushed the bottle towards her, "And take a real shot… not one of those sissy senorita sips."

Without another word, she snatched the bottle and pursed the opening to her lips. Chugging down three solid gulps of tequila and pounding the bottle back on the table. She stared at the Lieutenant and didn't remove her gaze the entire time the liquor scorched down her throat, nearly regretting the spontaneous action.

"Now we're talking!" James exclaimed, sincerely shocked.

Feeling the effects immediately taking their toll, she admitted, "It's been awhile since I did something like that… Last time I drank this erratically, I ended up on the floor."

"How many shots did that take?"

"I don't remember. All I can recall was the bartender pouring me a glass of Ryncol."

"Ryncol?" Vega snorted, the liquor in his mouth threatening to jump out his nose, "Really, Shepard? You expect me to believe that? You must be loca."

"I wouldn't lie to you. If you want, we can settle this right now… granted I know there isn't a drop of Ryncol anywhere near HQ but we have this bottle we can start with," her lip curled to the side, she was determined to prove her ability to out-drink him.

"Deal. I doubt you can even keep up with me. You seem to forget that I've been drinking a lot since the incident on Fehl Prime."

"And you seem to forget that I was dead."

"No fair! You can't always bring that up! That's an instant winner for 'Have You Ever?'" he pouted, "Regardless; I'm still going to drink you under the table."

"Under the table, huh? Is that all you were planning to do there?" she taunted, seeing if she could get a rise out of him.

The Lieutenant cocked his head at the unexpected statement, carefully evaluating Shepard's intentions, "You're going to have to work harder than that if you want me to blush."

"We'll see about that, Mr. Vega," she smiled, "After all, you brought me a gift… now I owe you one."

"I thought you said you didn't want a gift."

"I still need to repay you back, Lieutenant. I cannot have this hanging over my head."

"You really don't have to do anything. I'm happy just sharing this with you."

"Well, I truly appreciate it, James," she smiled.

Vega perked at her casually saying his first name. She almost always addressed him by his rank or last name. Shrugging it off that it was just the alcohol speaking, he poured another round into their glasses.

"For the sake of curiosity… if I could give you anything, what would it be? It could be anything you desire, go wild," she paused with the rim of her glass pursed against her lips, "as long as it's within regulations, of course."

Without any hesitation, James admitted, "I would love to see you in a dress."

Shepard immediately gagged on the shot of tequila in her throat, "No way, I look horrendous in those things. I did it once for Kasumi … never again. I'm surprised I haven't burned it yet."

"I don't know, Shepard, I think you would look good in a dress. Especially something short to show off those legs of yours."

"Are you flirting with me? That's a bit bold of you, Lieutenant!"

"For the sake of this argument, I'm going to say it's the tequila talking," he smiled right before taking another drink.

"Good because flirting with your superior is against protocol."

"But you're not a Commander at the moment," he included, anxiously waiting to see if she would notice his advances.

"You still call me one."

"That's because I have nothing but respect for you."

"Well, as long as you don't become president of some fanclub, I'll let it pass. I have enough of that with Conrad."

"Conrad? Is he an old beau?"

"No, no, no, no… I would rather shoot myself. Actually," she chuckled, "I shot him. Conrad Verner is nothing more but an obsessed fan. It's one thing to take my example and use it to try and better the world, it's another to go around wearing the same armor and causing more trouble than good."

"So you shot him?"

"In the foot… nothing serious, just something to hopefully make him think twice."

"Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"Are you reconsidering your statement about me in the dress?"

"No, I'll stand my ground on that issue."

"Confidence… I like that in a man," she bit her lip.

"Are you flirting with me, Commander?" he asked, turning the question around.

"For the sake of this argument," she repeated his sentence, mocking him, "I'm going to blame the tequila."

"Cheap shot, Shepard," the soldier pouted, knowing he lost his chance at an honest answer, "What's next? You're going to shoot me in the foot for getting too close?"

"No, you're no where close to Conrad, he's beyond irritating. I never want to see that man again. But knowing my luck, I will bump into him again… and he's gotten himself in even more trouble just from trying to be like me."

"Maybe I should think of a nickname for him ahead of time," he joked, sliding the bottle towards Nevada suggesting she refill her glass.

As she unscrewed the top, she was fascinated with his quirk of giving people nicknames. Whenever he encountered another Alliance soldier in the hallway, he was calling them by their newly acquired name. "What's with you and the nicknames?"

"Some people just don't match their names, so, you know... I just give them a new one."

"What about me? Do I get a nickname?"

"I haven't thought of one for you yet."

"Oh come on, James. You have nicknames for everyone but me… think of one."

He quietly stared at Nevada, his drunken gaze concentrating on her every attribute, "You kind of look like a Lola."

"Lola?"

"Yeah, my best friend's sister growing up was Lola. She was hot… and tough."

"Hot and tough, huh? You're cute... so I'll let you get away with it. For now," she huffed.

"I can think of worse things to call you."

"Oh? Like what?"

"If I really wanted to get under your skin, I would call you Navidad… since you don't like to celebrate Christmas and Navidad is similar to Nevada. Navidad," he snickered, emphasizing the similarities in the two words.

"Laugh it up, soldier," her piercing light brown eyes glared at him.

"You asked," he slouched over the table, sloshing another round into their glasses, "Then take a stab at me."

"Your hair is stupid."

"Is that the best you can come up with?"

"I'm drunk, shut up," she pursed her lips, pouting.

He laughed at his little victory, "So what'll it be?"

"I'm fine with Lola."

"You got it, Lola," the Marine confirmed, feeling a bit victorious, "From now on, that's all I'm going to call you whenever I visit."

"Come to think of it," she pondered, "Why are you always in here, James? I'm sure you have better places to be."

"I can't tell you."

Shepard gawked at him, the alcohol fueling her curiosity, "You know by saying you can't tell me that you have to tell me. You can't leave a damsel hanging."

Trying to avoid the conversation, Vega attempted being direct, "It is classified Alliance information, Commander."

"Come on, James. You expect me to believe that your reason for hanging around me is classified. Just tell me… I probably won't remember in an hour or two anyway…" she slurred, staring at the drops remaining in her glass, "make that about half an hour."

"No. I really shouldn't"

Nevada set her glass down, leaned forward, and began breaking down her observations, "You could just stand by the door, sticking to the code and leaving me alone while on guard…" She shifted her body towards him, closing in their distance, "but you don't. You've been waltzing in here nearly every day, talking with me… playing chess with me… keeping me company."

"I…" he took a deep breath, "I made a promise to Admiral Anderson."

"And," her soft voice purred without a hint of authority. The side of her lip curled up, waiting for him to continue. Her bright eyes locked onto his gaze, mesmerizing as they twinkled with the festive colors of the Christmas lights.

The longer Shepard stared at him, the louder Vega's heart pounded. There was so much he wanted to say. His attraction to her grew rapidly over the course of their visits. The way she laughed whenever she won a match, the way her hair swayed over her shoulder when she looked out the window, the unyielding fire burning in her eyes whenever she looked at him… he couldn't resist falling for her. Every bit of his senses screaming to reach out and touch her. And yet, he kept it all in check knowing her unshakable devotion to her duty would prevent anything more from happening.

"I'm waiting, Lieutenant," she whispered, breaking him from his silent spell.

Diverting his reasoning away from his deepest secret, "I promised I would protect the most valuable asset the Alliance could ever have."

"To who?"

"Anderson, of course."

Nevada shifted closer to the edge of her bed. Her eyes still locked onto his. Tilting her head to the side, "I feel like there's more to this."

"Possibly. But I won't divulge unless you do," he gave an ultimatum.

"What do you mean?"

James began leveling out the playing field, "You say I have the choice of standing by the door and sticking to the code but you also have the choice of accepting my visits. You could choose to be completely alone in your isolation and deny every bit of visitation… but you don't. I'd like to know why. If you want me to be honest, I expect the same from you."

The words pierced right through, shaking a bit of sobriety into her voice, "You expect me to reveal all my motives? I thought you were able to figure me out so well."

"This isn't chess, Lola. I'm not asking you to give away all your moves. I'd just appreciate some honesty in return. Consider it a way to repay me for the drink."

She sat back quickly for a moment considering everything he brought up. Nevada was tough to crack. She never exposed anything personal unless it was completely beneficial to the task at hand. Keeping everything locked away so it wouldn't interfere with her duty. Asking for her to open up about these private matters was not something she was ready to do… but with the alcohol still lingering in her veins, a few bad decisions could be made. As her brain continued to fight the battle against her better judgment, her voice softly emitted her answer, "Okay."

A shot of warmth enveloped the Lieutenant. He wasn't expecting her to actually agree. Figuring she would come up with an excuse about how trivial the answers were. But this was a pleasant surprise.

"But you go first," she cleared her throat, "And no word of this will be shared after tonight. This is simply the tequila talking and we'll leave it at that."

"Deal," he reached his hand out across the table to seal with agreement with a handshake. "So you want to know the reason why I visit you so often?"

She simply nodded her head in response.

"It did begin with the Admiral asking me to oversee your detainment. I know you're aware of that. But I thought it would be beneficial for you to have some company. I spent my time after Fehl Prime drinking my memories away and I didn't want to see the same happen to you. When I suggested it to Anderson, he was completely on board."

"Doesn't surprise me. He is like a father to me," she added, "This isn't the first time he's bent the rules to do something in my favor. Remind me to share the story of when he punched Councilor Udina later."

"I will," he chuckled.

"Anyway, continue."

"As you know, I've always thought highly of you and this was my chance to get to chat with one of the greatest Alliance soldiers that ever enlisted. Because let's face it, Lola. You are one hell of a solider. The other soldiers out there are still fresh out from training. They haven't had to deal with the ugliness we've seen."

"How true. They are very green…" Nevada slurred.

"And with…" he paused, "with everything we've experienced, I find a certain level of comfort around you. I came to enjoy spending my time with you…"

"I can completely understand where you're coming from, James."

"There you go again."

"What?"

"That's the fifth time tonight you've addressed me by my first name."

Shocked at his observation, she reeled the night's activities in her head and tried to make sense of her lack of formality, "Really?"

"Yes, maybe I should reprimand you for addressing me so casually."

"Maybe you should… being technically my superior at the moment," she winked, grabbing the tequila, "I know I'm typically stuck-up on following protocols, even though I'm no longer Commander. I guess I'm growing more civilian by the day. I apologize. I didn't realize I was being so informal with you."

"It's okay. It was a shock a first but I am actually enjoying this side of you."

"Remember, it's the tequila talking."

"Of course," he nodded. Her secret safe with him, knowing she was this way before their first shot.

"Regardless… I know Anderson chose you to supervise me. And, as much as I don't want to admit it publicly, he chose well. I'm not exactly the easiest to get along with unless you are part of my crew. I didn't know what to expect when he first assigned you to me and I was ready to completely shut you out. But I'm glad I didn't… I'm glad he chose you… I have someone to talk to, someone I actually enjoy passing the hours away with. You have been very beneficial to my sanity in this establishment. And… you're right. I was lonely and could use the company tonight. So thank you."

Her confession left him speechless. She usually never mentioned anything about her personal feelings, especially when it came to his involvement in her life. This was a first in all the times they spent together. Whether it was from the alcohol or not, he knew it came from the heart.

Redness quickly covered her cheeks as she recollected her words. The Lieutenant saw her creeping blush and reached out to place his hand over her hand still latched onto the tequila.

With a slight squeeze against her fingers, he smiled, "I appreciate your honesty with me tonight, Lola."

"I do too."

"We should do it more often."

"Possibly… this was already more than what I'm usually comfortable with. Maybe I'll feel more open the next time the drinks keep coming."

His reaffirming grip softly released and Nevada tilted the bottle to pour their next round. Except there was a lack of liquid coming out. She peered down the neck, confirming the contents were empty. "Which it looks like we've come to an end, we already went through the whole bottle," the slur in her tone becoming more apparent, "I'm not even that drunk yet."

"I'm not either," the Lieutenant added with his voice equally as inebriated.

"I guess we'll have to settle our drinking duel another time."

"Or… I could get the other bottle in my locker."

"You have liquor in your Alliance locker?"

James nodded.

"As much as that is against regulations… I approve of it," she admitted, attracted to the idea of sharing a few more drinks with the Lieutenant, "Do you think you can retrieve it without drawing any attention?"

"Of course."

"Then what are you waiting for?" she asked with a renewed fire burning in her eyes.

When James stood up, the alcohol rushed to his head and caused him to wobble a bit. Stumbling towards the door, his thoughts were filled with the Commander. Tonight he got experience a whole new side of her. One he never imagined he would see so soon. Even though he desired to become even closer, he knew her openness was already a long stretch.

She closed herself off long ago to prevent anyone from distracting her from her role. No matter how hard he wished, Vega knew she would always choose her duty over all. She was still the Commander at heart, regardless of her title being stripped. There was no way to break what was set in her heart. He still remained hopeful. Even though she may have the thickest skin and the most authoritative demeanor, she deserved someone to be a little softer towards and he was hoping one day to be that someone. Tonight's actions were already a step in the right direction.

When his hand was on the handle, he heard Shepard call out to him, "James!"

Turning to meet her gaze, he caught her standing by the side of her bed.

"I just wanted to let you know that this was a good idea. Gra-… gratzi-… oh how do you say thank you again?"

"Gracias."

"That's it! Gracias, Señor Vega."

Shepard trying to use his native tongue warmed his heart. It didn't matter if the way she pronounced the words was horrible… all that mattered was that she tried just for him. It felt like a gift. He shook his head with a smile, "De nada, Lola."

"Now hurry up, that's an order," she beckoned, watching him slip into the hallway to fetch more contraband.