As always, author note is save for the end.
DISCLAIMER: All Characters belong to Bioware, I own nothing (but believe me, if I did, James would have a much bigger role in Shep's cabin than just commenting on the how "soft" it looks; preferably naked, covered in chocolate sauce). In addition, all mentions to Disney belong to Disney (obviously), and any other cultural references, yeah, you get it. ONWARD!
Chapter Two: Tattoos and New Ideas
"Ow! Damnit! it's like you want it to hurt," James whined, the Batarian behind him grunting in un-answer. Neiro had recommended this guy to him, the slippery bastard. James supposed in the middle of a war with the damn Reapers his choices were gonna be pretty limited in the way of quality tattoo artists, but choosing one from the race that supposedly hated humans more than anything in the galaxy (probably even the Reapers if Shepard's history on Aratoht was being accounted for) probably was not a good idea. His other tats hadn't hurt nearly this bad.
"You move again and you're really going to have something to complain about," the Batarian's raspy voice echoed in the small, empty storage container.
"Yeah, yeah," James snipped out in between grunts. He sat in silence for a few minutes, pondering his choice to join the N7 program, courtesy of the Commander's gentle urgings, and all that decision entailed. It was a big responsibility, Shepard was right about that, but he was up for it. He'd already made some tough decisions in his life (some bad and some good) but he knew that the N7 program would be one of the best.
Her footsteps signaled her arrival. She really wasn't very light on her feet, making her complete shit at tactical missions. Give her an assault rifle and enough cover and time to charge her biotics in-between throw downs, and she could take on any enemy (or amount of enemies) you threw at her. Ask her to put on a fancy outfit and take enemies down quietly without drawing attention, however, and she'd be dead in a minute.
"James," Lola drawled, swinging into sight from around the corner. He smirked at the ground, pushing the fluttering feeling in his stomach down before raising his eyes to catch her gaze.
"Commander. Didn't expect to see you down here." That was a lie. He most certainly did expect to see her in the refugee camps. If he was being honest with himself, Shepard's frequent visits to that part of the Citadel had a big influence on his decision to go for the Batarian street artist rather than the high-end Asari artisan in the Presidium (that, and her ridiculous prices).
He wasn't admitting that to himself, though. Really, then, it was just the money. Not like he was getting paid much saving the entire galaxy or anything...
"I was about to ask you that," Lola said, placing her hands on her hips in that commanding, Shepard way that only she could make sexy. Jesus, why'd she have to go and do that? As if she wasn't hot enough; as if he didn't have a hard enough time already keeping his attraction to her at bay and the flirting to a bare minimum.
He brought himself back to reality and explained his current predicament. Minus the part about the Batarian tattoo artist who had been purposefully digging down past the first couple layers of skin. The conversation took a flirtatious turn, naturally, as was James's way, but then she said something that knocked him straight into next Thursday.
"You ever gonna make good on all this flirting?" What. The. Hell. What did she mean by that? Did she want him to, or was she just yanking his chain? God knew he wanted to make good on it, but he was pretty certain she didn't want that. She was with Major Alenko, wasn't she? Jesus, Lola was an enigma if he'd ever seen one.
Then he realized he hadn't said anything yet, or, rather, he'd been stammering aimlessly for the last few seconds. Just when he'd come up with a clever line, one that wouldn't sound at all assuming on his part and would leave any decision up to her, she let out the sexiest little laugh he'd ever heard in his life.
"That's what I thought." She flashed him a flirty, unjustly so, smirk that nearly had him losing it right then and there. "Later, Lieutenant." Shepard paused a moment, taking him in, before turning on her heels and walking the other way, her hips mesmerizing him with their gentle sway.
"Later," James said, mentally slapping himself. He had completely missed his opportunity. Even if she hadn't really meant her words, he was certain that, with the correct insinuations and flirtatious words on his part, he could leave her with something to think about. And maybe, just maybe, she would end up thinking as much about him in her free time as he did about her.
With his new tattoo finished, James painfully pulled his shirt back on, wincing as the now too-rough fabric rubbed against his sensitive skin. Thank Dios for medi-gel. Otherwise, he wasn't so sure he'd be able to gear up on the next mission without his shoulder falling off.
Back at his regular station on the Normandy, James's idle brain took up its favorite past-time once more; thoughts of Shepard. As he took apart each and every one of his guns, tweaking the wires for the hundredth time and upgrading the ammo for the thousandth time and cleaning the barrels for the millionth time, his brain went through compromising scenarios of his commander for the billionth time.
How pathetic could one man be? Fantasizing about a woman he could never get...wanting her more than any other woman he'd encountered. His own moral code banned him from pursuing a relationship with anyone, not to mention his commanding officer.
He'd given up fraternization the day he joined the military. That's not to say he hadn't been with a woman since then, not even slightly. There was no shortage of willing females whenever he was on shore-leave for a lonesome, over-worked soldier. All those women had been civvies, though; he had never been with one of his fellow soldiers. He always saw it as disrespectful, not just to the girl he was screwing, but to the badges they both wore.
Lola, though...she made him want to throw all those rules to the wind. She was everything he'd always been looking for; smart, independent, knows how to handle a gun, funny when she wants to be, serious when she has to be. He didn't know there were women like her out there.
There were rules for a reason, though, and he couldn't just go breaking them for...what was he even hoping to get out of pursuing Shepard? Hot sex? Yeah, of course. He knew she would be amazing in bed. Did he want more, though? Were his feelings deeper than just physical attraction? Whatever his intentions, the outcome would always be the same. She was off limits.
Even if he did allow himself to pursue her, no way was she ever going to reciprocate any feelings.
No, he'd better just save them both any awkward situations and keep his relationship with the Commander strictly business. Better to be good friends than nothing at all. His relationships with all his squad mates should be kept one hundred percent platonic; especially with his CO.
Feeling a little more grounded with his internal decision, James went back to his fantasizing. Yeah, he wasn't going to act on any of these...urges, but a little daydreaming never hurt anyone.
Shepard couldn't stop playing that last moment with James in her head. She'd gotten a little burst of courage and blurted out the words that had been stuck in her mind for days. You ever gonna make good on any of this flirting? Her entire body seemed to freeze with anticipation as she waited for him to respond. But he just sat there, stuttering and stammering, and she'd quickly lost her nerve.
Savior of the Citadel, and, hopefully one day, the galaxy too, and she couldn't even make a move on her Lieutenant without backing down.
With a nervous laugh and a clever line, she'd removed herself from the situation, but was left with a lot of unanswered questions. She couldn't shake the feeling that, maybe, if she'd stayed just a little longer, the situation may have gone the way she'd hoped. Perhaps James really did want to "make good" on the suggestive lines and ambiguous moves he'd been throwing her way since the day he first stepped on the Normandy.
Either way, she'd gotten at least one clarification from the day's escapades; she and Kaidan were certainly not going to work. Whether or not James ever did make a move, she knew she couldn't think of Kaidan in the same way again. They'd both changed too much. If breaking it off with him meant loneliness leading up to her final moments, that was perfectly fine with her. Assuming Kaidan survived and she didn't, keeping up this illusion of a relationship would only hurt him exponentially after she passed on.
Not that she would be lonely either way. She would always have her crew; the family she'd never had growing up. The relationships she'd made over the years (alive and dead) were lasting and durable. They would be more than enough to keep her strength up through whatever fight she was faced with, up until her dying day. Shepard didn't need romance to be capable; all she needed was her crew. Romance was just a small plus to the exponential love she already felt toward so many of those around her.
With her thoughts clear after her visit with James, and a sure destination in mind, Shepard entered the elevator and pressed the button to the Presidium Commons.
The doors opened onto a scene of destruction. It never ceased to amaze her how much damage Cerberus had done in the short time they had control of the Citadel, nor how quickly workers on the station were able to repair things. She headed down into the center of the Commons and to the small cafe that stood against the far left wall. Kaidan had said he'd be there. He wanted to meet for dinner.
She spotted him off in the corner, commandeering a small table next to the edge of the dining platform, overlooking the Presidium. He'd always been one for beautiful views.
Shepard stopped just short of where he sat, calming herself and taking a deep breath. No matter what had happened in their past, he was still a good friend whom she cared about greatly. She never wanted to hurt him. However, this was necessary in order to prevent as much pain for him in the future as possible. She simply couldn't offer any more of herself to him than she already had. Their past was too prevalent; too raw.
Talk to her in a year or two, when old wounds had healed and she'd been able to move past all those awful things he'd said to her, and maybe they could start things up again.
They didn't have another year, though. She didn't even know if they had another month. This was the only option for them.
Kaidan took it well, even seemed a little relieved. She couldn't help but wish she'd done that long before. And now she couldn't wait to be his friend once more, just like old times.
Shepard kept on telling herself she didn't need a man to be happy. She didn't need strong arms holding her at night to keep the nightmares away, nor did she need her insatiable desire for a certain Latino soldier quenched. She was a strong woman, men were an added benefit to her life, not a necessity. If James were to refuse her once more, it would be nothing; she wouldn't care.
But then...all the feelings would come crashing down on her all at once and she would remember just how potent they were. Shepard couldn't kid herself; she desperately wanted love, and she desperately wanted him. James wasn't just another man she invited into her bed. He was something new, something she'd never experienced before. The things she felt for him went much deeper than a simple appreciation for his body, and that terrified her to her core. There was a potential there that Shepard was almost afraid to pursue at all. However, she'd never been afraid of the unknown, and she wasn't about to start now. This new situation would be dove into head first, not taking into consideration the consequences or could-be ramifications, as was the Shepard way.
She was a pathfinder; a trail-blazer. Not that the path of romance hadn't been traveled before, it'd been over-run and eroded by trillions before her. However, she had never taken that last step into the void. This had that potential; James had that potential.
Shepard ran her hands against the shining walls of the Normandy as she walked onto the main deck. This was her home. It was her pride, her joy, her livelihood. Every happy moment of her life had occurred on the decks of this ship. She had no doubt that her future, however long, would be filled with happy moments all held within the metallic walls of the Normandy.
Author's Note:
So here's Chapter Two! It's a transitional chapter so it's kind of short and boring, but it will pick up in the next installment, I promise, so stay tuned! I'm REALLY excited for Ch. 3 and I'm feeling very inspired today so I may be able to write it and crank it out in the next day or two as I have a lot of travelling and down time this Holiday Weekend. Anyway, have an awesome Easter everybody (unless you don't celebrate it, then have an awesome weekend) and thank you so much for reading! Remember to review for faster updates! Stay classy, kids ;)
