A/N: Just a note to say that I made one small update to chapter two. From the little research I've done, I realize that the age gap that I gave between Samantha and Shepard was too large. I pictured Sam to be around 25-27. If what I read was legit, Shepard was born in 2154 and ME3 takes place in 2186, making her 32.
Also, a quick thank you to all of you who have reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. There is nothing more motivating than seeing people enjoy what you're writing. And, in regards to Druzhnik's review: thank you for a wonderful and insightful review! What you voiced are things that I've been thinking about as I write. I haven't implemented any changes yet, because I haven't found a system that I like so far but will continue to experiment to try and get away from the repetitiveness of having two or more women in the same scene.
As always—I hope you enjoy this installment!
updated 8/19/2013
We're Only Human
fanfic by MistressNoriko
Tree trunks were concealed by swirling black figures as Shepard ran through an unfamiliar thicket. Everything seemed impossibly slow, but the little boy that she was chasing seemed to move faster than anything around her. His incessant giggling resonated from trunk to trunk, causing an echoing effect as Shepard ran after him. He giggled, and dramatically switched directions, his white hoodie being the only thing that Shepard could see to keep track of his movements. Suddenly, his giggles turned to crying as she rounded a tree to find him kneeling on the forest floor. She ran up to him, still unbearably slow. Her hand reached out for him as their eyes made contact, but she was too late; the boy's eyes grew empty as fire surrounded his small figure.
Shepard's heavy eyes shot opened with an audible gasp from her throat. Her vision a complete blur, she blinked hard a few times and then moved her hands up to her face to rub her eyes. Her right hand made contact and she hissed. Her hand seared with pain. Damn… that wall did a number on me, Shepard thought to herself, flexing her hand a few times. Along with the pain searing through her hand, she noticed that she had a headache and her nose and throat felt raw.
She sat up in her bed and noticed that sweat was trickling down her spine and sternum. What the hell kind of dream…She ran her left hand through her disheveled hair as she tried to make sense of the dream she'd woken from; then she froze, looking around her room. She was in bed. There wasn't anyone in the room with her. What… what time is it? She glanced down at her omni-tool, it reacting to her touch.
It read: [08:09 AST.]
What the hell? The last thing I remember is… is… she slumped her shoulders, looking up from her omni-tool. What was the last thing she remembered? She had been punching the wall… She looked down again, noticing that her right hand was completely wrapped; gauze underneath an outer protective fabric wrap. She blinked hard, looking at it in the dim light of her room. The recruit with the honeyed colored skin, and eyes too big for a war ship flashed into her mind. That recruit walked up… and…and… Then her heart stopped. I cried on her shoulder like a sniveling child! she recalled.
Although Shepard was mortified at the thought of showing such weakness to a brand new Alliance recruit, the details were still a bit fuzzy to her tired mind and body. She didn't remember the recruit leaving, or even how she had gotten into bed. Who undressed me?! She thought, finally looking down to see that the only clothing she was wearing was her Alliance issued bra and underwear.
She glanced around the room again, her eyes finally allowing her to focus a bit more. It didn't help that someone had turned aquarium light off. "EDI—will you override the light on the aquarium back to on?"
"Of course, Commander Shepard," EDI's synthetic voice sounded.
The light flickered on and revealed Shepard's cabin in more detail: there were remnants of a first aid kit on her coffee table. Her clothing from the day before had been neatly folded and placed at the end of the bed. She glanced to her left, noticing a glass of water and three pill capsules atop a piece of paper on her night stand. Narrowing her eyes, she leaned over and carefully tugged the paper out from under the glass, using her free hand to slide the capsules away.
The paper had very tight, pristine hand writing on it; almost too legible, too precise. It read:
"I know you don't have a hangover, but I'm sure that your hand is starting to sting a little, so hints the random pills on your nightstand. I promise I'm not trying to slip you red sand or anything illicit. Honest. The water is to keep the galaxies' cape-less superhero hydrated; can't have you falling over on the job and turning into a prune because you forgot to take time to drink some essential H2O. So drink up. Refill. Drink up again. I'm no doctor, but I'm sure the doctor on duty would say something similar…minus the prune bit.
~S.T."
Shepard stared at the long note, raising an eyebrow. Her lips slowly crept into a smile when she re-read the "galaxies' cape-less superhero" part. She read it a few times more, letting herself even make an audible laugh the last time through. Then she noticed (a few lines down from the main part of the note) a short continuation:
"PS: Your secret is safe with me."
This brought the seriousness back to her brow. Secret? What secret is this S.T., person referring to?
"EDI, what happened last night?" Shepard said aloud, not looking away from the neatly written final sentence on the piece of paper in her hands.
EDI's voice responded immediately. "Unless you're inquiring as to every action that occurred on the ship last night, could you be more specific, Commander Shepard?"
Shepard let out a low growl as she flung the remainder of the blanket off of her. "I want to see any surveillance from my quarters last night. Starting when I came back aboard the Normandy." She put the note down on her bed.
"Understood. Which screen would you like me to display it on, Commander?"
Shepard stood, running a quick hand through her hair again to get it out of her face. She needed a shower. She smelled of sweat, salt, and something else she couldn't quite place. She grabbed a handful of her hair and brought it to her nose. Why does my hair smell like someone's cup of tea? she wondered to herself, crinkling her nose as she let her hair drop back down to her shoulder. "I have a screen in the bathroom, right?"
"Correct. Sending the feed to that console." There was a pause. "Transfer complete. Please let me know when you'd like me to start the playback of the recording."
Shepard turned her body toward the bathroom door but paused, looking back at her night stand. She looked from the night stand to the note on her bed… I need to watch the video first…she thought to herself. The capsules weren't ones she recognized anyway.
She shook her head and walked to the bathroom, unclasping her bra as she went. She took it off and hung it on a hook on the inside of the bathroom as the door slid shut behind her. As she went to take her underwear off, she noticed that EDI had the surveillance footage cued and ready to go. "Go ahead and play it EDI." She turned the water on and side stepped before the cold water hit her. She started to unwrap her hand while she waited for the water to heat up. She glanced up at the screen, opposite of where the shower resided. EDI had turned the volume on, but it wasn't blaringly loud, thankfully, because she saw Liara and herself step out of the elevator, and she heard herself starting to yell. "EDI, will you fast forward the footage until that recruit comes up?"
The footage started to speed up, the sound cutting out. Shepard half watched the screen as she unwrapped her hand from the first bandage. By the time the fabric outer wrapping was free, Liara was walking out of the camera feed and into the elevator. She stood for a moment, watching herself begin to punch at the wall at a comically cartoony speed. Her expression softened and she looked back down to her hand. There was a mixture of dried blood and medigel goop that had seeped through the gauze pad. Shepard began to peel it off, slowly, not sure what she'd find underneath.
Sound suddenly returned to the bathroom with the sound of a woman saying "Commander Shepard?" She glanced up and saw the recruit that had flashed into her mind when she woke up and starting piecing things together. She watched, midway through unwrapping her hand, the scene between them. I had no idea that she was there for that long. . .it took a lot of guts to get between me and the wall. She also noted that she had been saying some of the things—she thought she'd only been thinking—out loud. She went back to unwrapping her hand when she saw the recruit run out of the frame and into the elevator.
Shepard put her right hand under the running water of the showerhead, the water was still just lukewarm, but it began to wash away the crusty dried blood and medigel residue. She brought her hand out of the water and up to her face. There were tiny looking scabs on top of all four knuckles, and faint brown bruises covering the entirety of the back of her hand. She clenched her jaw—she had Cerberus to thank for the speedy recovery. They'd rebuilt her, placing fast healing functions in the cybernetics' that ran throughout her body. The same Cerberus that was responsible for Ashely's hospitalization.
She shook her head and ran both hands through her hair. She couldn't let herself start thinking like that again. She had to start gaining back her ever positive attitude. She looked back up at the screen just as the recruit walked back into her quarters, looking around frantically as she clutched first aid supplies to her chest.
Shepard tested the water. It was finally hot enough to her liking, and she stepped under the cascading facet.
Shepard finished looping her belt into her Formal Alliance pants and glanced back up at the screen as she fiddled with the buckle. EDI had transferred the feed to her living area, as Shepard had finished showering and needed to start getting ready for the day. EDI had also been kind enough to self edit and fast forward through the long bits of crying; only coming back to normal speed when something was said.
Shepard remembered crying into the woman's embrace… but she didn't remember physically saying anything while she had been doing it. According to the footage, she had mumbled incoherencies the entire time.
Shepard turned to grab her formal uniform shirt when she looked at her night stand again. She was standing there, only half dressed, underwear, shoes and pants were all that she wore. She clasped her bra together in the back and then moved toward the night stand to grab the glass of water. From what she'd seen in the footage, she didn't have anything to worry about in regards to this simple recruit trying to poison her. But she didn't take the pills though, seeing as the pain in her hand was beginning to decrease the more that she used it.
EDI slowed the footage down to normal speed again.
[EDI, what do I do?!] sounded the voice of the recruit.
Shepard glanced up at the screen, seeing the recruit starting to look like she was beginning to panic. It looked like she'd passed out on top of the recruit.
[Specialist Traynor, if you are referring to the current state of Commander Shepard…initial scans indicate that she is suffering from sleep deprivation. I would advise putting her to bed.] There was a pause from EDI. [Would you like me to hail another officer, to aid you putting Commander Shepard into her bed?]
[Wha—] sputtered from the recruit's, apparently a specialist, mouth. Specialist Traynor looked at Shepard's sleeping body and then to Shepard's bed and pouted her bottom lip out. [What's that supposed to mean, EDI?]
[Scans show that you do not have an adequate muscle mass to physically move Commander Shepard in her current state.] Commander Shepard chuckled at that, eyeing the Specialist and concurring with EDI. [I could hail Lieutenant Vega. He has—]
[I don't have the 'adequate muscle mass' to move Commander Shepard?!] Specialist Traynor spat. [Tell that to the women I've bedded,] she said haughtily, getting another low chuckle from Shepard as she took a sip from the water glass. She was starting to find the Specialist quite humorous, and intriguing. Apparently the beautiful, honey skinned recruit swung both ways, which for some reason made Shepard smile.
EDI's voice sounded again. [Notification ready for distribution. To which women should I send it out to, Specialist Traynor?]
Shepard choked on the water she had just drunk. She forced herself to cough, fitting back tears from the pain radiating from the back of her throat. When she finally swallowed, gasping slightly for air, EDI's voice sounded overhead, "Are you alright, Commander Shepdard."
"Yup," Shepard coughed again. "That was just a good one, EDI," Shepard smiled, still trying to clear her throat.
"Thank you," EDI's voice sounded from the rooms speakers. "I thought it was an adequate response to get Specialist Traynor to calm down at the time. The joke seemed to have worked."
Shepard took a cautious sip of water, trying to alleviate the raw feeling she now had in the back of her throat. EDI continued the recording, speeding up the footage. Shepard put the glass down and continued to watch the footage, making no movement to finish getting dressed. She brought a hand up to her mouth and giggled; a sound the marine very rarely made. The fast forwarding action of the Specialist waddling Shepard's unconscious body to the bed was quite comical.
Shepard stood there smiling, left arm across her chest with her right elbow in her left hand and her right hand up by her mouth. She watched the Specialist struggle getting her unconscious body into bed. She made a quiet chuckle when the Specialist fell on top of her passed out form; it was still more comical because of the fast speed of the playback.
The Specialist, from what Shepard could tell on the fast forwarded footage, was diligently trying to make Shepard as comfortable as possible. Shepard asked EDI to slow the playback down to just slightly faster than full speed and asked her to zoom in on where the two were. EDI complied, quickly doing as she was asked. The closer zoom revealed just how nervous the Specialist looked… and how badly she was blushing while she fought with Shepard's belt.
Shepard brought her hand down, away from her mouth, and crossed both hands over her chest and narrowed her eyes as she watched. The Specialist's hands hovered over Shepard's body for a moment after getting Shepard's shirt off. Shepard noticed the Specialist take in a deep breath, look around the room and move her hands to her knees to stand. Shepard blinked, narrowing her eyes when she noticed that she'd then reached out for the Specialist as she was moving to stand. "EDI, slow it to real time."
"Of course, Commander," EDI sounded, already playing the footage at normal speed.
Shepard watched the nervousness doubled in the Specialist's face. She glanced around the room again, but when she looked back at Shepard she began to calm down. She then smiled and slid her hand into Shepard's searching one. She stayed like that for a few moments, and then, to Shepard's surprise, leaned forward and kissed Shepard's forehead. Shepard's eyes went wide, hand subconsciously going up to her forehead where the Specialist had kissed her. She then watched the Specialist stand, feebly salute her sleeping body, and turn to leave. She paused at the desk and started to write a note.
"EDI," Shepard started, grabbing the shirt she'd pulled out earlier. "I need Specialist Traynor's dossier on my datapad. Now." She pulled the shirt over her shoulders, but didn't begin to fasten the front of it, leaving her torso relatively exposed.
"Understood Commander Shepard," EDI complied. "You have it now."
Shepard felt her neck tense and her jaw clench and she walked to her desk. She picked up her datapad from next to her personal console. "Does she have an active request to be stationed on the Normandy?" she asked as she opened Specialist Traynor's dossier file.
"She does," EDI sounded again. "I would prefer it i—"
"Deny the request," Shepard interrupted. Shepard had a feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't anger. It wasn't worry. She didn't know what the feeling was. Embarrassment, maybe? But she knew she couldn't have that woman on the ship.
"Commander," EDI's synthetic voice sounded.
Shepard imagined that EDI had made it a question, even though there was no inflection in her synthetic voice. "It wasn't a question, EDI. Deny the request." Shepard clenched her jaw. She couldn't have a subordinate who had seen her so vulnerable on the ship. It didn't bode well for moral if the woman let it out that her Commanding Officer had spent hours sobbing on her shoulder, whimpering about reapers and how unfair the war and life was.
She looked at a picture of Specialist Traynor in the dossier that she held in her hand. The woman was gorgeous; gentle eyes that had an instant calming effect on Shepard's tense thoughts. In Specialist Traynor's Alliance photo, she still had a playful smirk on her face, even though regulations strictly state that all personnel photos had to have an emotionally neutral expression.
"Commander Shepard, might I make a suggestion."
Shepard didn't respond to EDI. She continued to look at Specialist Traynor's photo. She'd only get herself killed on this crew, Shepard thought. I can't condemn her to die.
But you'd condemn her to her death if you didn't let her serve on your crew, another voice in the back of her mind chimed. You'd be able to keep her safe; safer than any colony right now.
Shepard shook her head. I couldn't keep Ashley or Liara safe yesterday.
True—but Specialist Traynor is a Comm. Specialist. She would hardly leave the ship. She'd be there, waiting for you, every time you boarded the Normandy. . .
Shepard let her thoughts slip into that of a less than professional nature, imagining being greeted with a passionate kiss and embrace as she looked into the eyes of Specialist Traynor's photo. Her large brown eyes looked so innocent. Like she'd never seen combat. Seen war. I can't ruin her. I can't have her on my ship…
Can't have her on your ship? Or is it that you don't want the temptation of falling for her?
"Commander Shepard," EDI sounded again.
"EDI—I gave you an order. Deny the request for Specialist Traynor to join the Normandy," she growled back.
"Commander Shepard Spe—"
"I. Gave. You. An. Order." Shepard said, each word forcefully articulated as she spoke over EDI.
"Specialist Traynor has just exited the elevator to your cabin deck."
Shepard's eyes darted towards the door and then down to her torso. She dropped the datapad onto her desk and started fastening her shirt together. She had three buttons left when there was a request to entry notification from the holo on the door.
"Enter," Shepard sputtered, fighting with the third to last fasten. Her hands were just slightly starting to sweat. She'd never had to tell someone that she didn't want them serving with her and her crew. She wasn't looking forward to the next few minutes.
The door slid open and an oddly familiar, yet unfamiliar face walked in. Specialist Traynor rounded the corner of Shepard's desk and stood in a proper salute. "Commander Shepard, I'm Specialist-oh. Oh ah, oh I beg your pardon. I can come back after you've dressed, Commander," the Specialist stammered nervously.
Shepard waved a hand at her. "At ease, Specialist," she said, finally getting the stubborn fasten to go through. It's not like she hasn't already seen what's underneath. She left the last two for now. She looked up to see Specialist Traynor drop her salute, but stayed at a very ridged attention. Shepard noticed a slight tinge of pink to the Specialist's cheeks. When was the last time you made a woman blush, that small voice in the back of her head chimed annoyingly.
"Right. Um," Specialist Traynor started. "I'm Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor… with Alliance R&D. I was part of the team retrofitting the Normandy after you turned it over to the alliance."
Shepard wished that she'd had time to go over Specialist Traynor's dossier before she had to speak with her. She didn't know how to start…but ultimately, she didn't know how to turn down the Specialist's request to be stationed on the Normandy. Before she could get a word in, the Specialist continued.
It was 08:30 AST. Samantha was fighting the urge to bite her finger nails; she had only gotten two hours of restless sleep before her shift at the CIC started. She stood at her console next to the galaxy map and stifled a yawn. There were plenty of things that needed her attention, especially some messages from the Turian fleet on Palaven that were extremely damaged and difficult to decode. She'd spent the last two hours working diligently on several that came through. She had just opened her sixth encoded message when she noticed the time.
I'm surprised that Commander Shepard hasn't made an appearance on the CIC yet, she anxiously thought to herself. Glancing around, Samantha saw that no one was remotely close to her or her screen. She bit her lower lip and hacked into the elevator logs. Maybe she went to the shuttle bay to calibrate her gun…or something, she thought as she started typing. After a minute or so of hacking around the perpetually helpful, but often times nosey, VI's firewalls, Samantha finally gained access to the logs. After a quick read, she noticed that there hadn't been activity up to the Commander's quarters, which meant that the Commander had not left her quarters yet.
Oh god, Samantha's mind started. What if she has some deathly allergic reaction to medigel and she's lying in bed dead?! her mind raced irrationally. Oh I knew I should have gotten someone's help. She continued to bite her lower lip and then tried to mentally calm herself down. Give it until 09:00. If there still hasn't been any activity, then just go and check. . .
She closed out of the log; it had been easy enough for her to pass through the security. If she kept it opened she feared that the ship's VI would notice.
Samantha busied herself with decoding the message from Palaven she'd pulled up, but couldn't stop herself from tapping her heel to try and make the time move faster. The message was heavily encrypted, but she knew she'd break it at some point. She was trying to pinpoint the location of the of the strike force that was doing reconnaissance on Menae, Palaven's largest moon. She'd narrowed down the search parameters to one fourth of the moon, simply through the messages that she'd been intercepting. I'm sure when we get there, we'll be able to see the bloody reapers, Samantha darkly thought to herself, forcing herself not to look at the clock.
08:56 AST, Samantha couldn't hold out for the next four minutes to pass and accessed the elevator logs again. There still hadn't been any activity to or from the Commander's quarters. Before she let herself get distraught, she closed the log and pulled up another, logging the water flow in the ship. It took less time to access, but more time to pinpoint what she was looking for. The ship automatically logged everything—from how many times the water runs from a faucet, is flushed, or used in the shower. She finally pinpointed the location of the Commander's cabin and read that a shower had stopped running about thirty minutes prior. Samantha relaxed her hands on her keyboard and let out the breath that she'd been holding. The muscles in her shoulders and neck relaxed. She then slowly started to feel a smile creep onto her face. She must have needed the sleep, she thought.
Heat rose to her cheeks as she recalled the sleeping Commander's body, before she left the night before. Even while she was completely unconscious, Commander Shepard had the most defined muscles on a woman that Samantha had ever seen in person. Not the chiseled, protruding muscles—no. Shepard's muscles were long, lean muscles under soft skin. Human skin. The Commander wasn't some fictitious comic book super hero anymore to Samantha; the Commander was a real woman, and a beautiful woman at that. A woman that gave her adolescent butterflies whenever she thought about her.
She shook her head, running a slightly sweaty palm over her face to try and get herself to stop smirking at the image of her CO in her head. You're going to get yourself in trouble, Traynor. Keep having thoughts like that and you're bound to blurt something inappropriate out and blunder yourself in front of her. Then you'll for sure be thrown off of the Normandy for disregarding fraternization regulations.
She let out another exhale, this time prepping herself to go and talk to her Commander and actually introduce herself. No one will miss me on the CIC, she thought, looking around. I'll just be a few minutes…Oh, I'll explain the new layout of the ship! she thought, grabbing her datapad and pulling up the retrofit file she'd compiled for a report she put in as they were docked at the Citadel. That'll at least give you a reason to intrude on your CO again, at any rate.
She nodded to herself, in her ever self motivating fashion and then turned on her heal towards the elevator. She nodded to an engineer as he passed her work station and then pressed the elevator button. It took a few moments for the doors to slide open. She stepped to the side, allowing the crew inside to step off and then she walked on and pressed "1." The nervousness from the day before slowly started to skulk back into her stomach.
Samantha concentrated on her breathing. She didn't want to be flushed or anxious when she met her Commanding Officer this time. She'd made the decision yesterday, while they were docked at the Citadel that she wanted to be stationed on the Normandy. She couldn't think of a better place that she could be to help with the war effort. Since they'd already left port, she figured that the request had been accepted, but she still felt that she had to prove herself to Commander Shepard. Shepard was known for having small, close-knit teams that worked flawlessly together, accomplishing impossible feats all over the galaxy. She wanted to be a part of that team.
Do you want to be a part of a team… or do you want to try and wriggle your way into your Commanding Officer's personal life? she thought to herself, suppressing a smirk as the elevator opened on Commander Shepard's deck. She walked slowly to the door of Shepard's quarters and let out a long breath before knocking. She didn't want her subconscious infatuation with Shepard's body to interfere with her second chance at her first impression.
She heard the muffled sound of "Enter," from Shepard inside the cabin. The door beeped and slid open. She walked through, noticing Commander Shepard standing by her desk. Samantha went into a full salute. "Commander Shepard, I'm Specialist—oh," she stopped. Commander Shepard's bra was still visible as she attempted to finish fastening her shirt together. It wasn't the bra that made Samantha blush; it was standard issue, nothing fancy about it, just like her own. It was the fact that she saw the skin of Shepard's breasts again that made her cheeks flush. "Oh ah, oh I beg your pardon. I can come back after you've dressed, Commander," Samantha managed, the image of Shepard's sleeping body last night flashing through her mind. She felt the heat on her cheeks and immediately started to curse herself in her head.
Shepard waved a hand at her. "At ease, Specialist." Shepard finally finished fussing with the fastening and left the last two alone, leaving the base of her neck more visible than the formal uniform typically allowed. She looked up at Samantha, but avoided her gaze. She looked like she had just interrupted Shepard deep in thought.
Samantha dropped her salute, but reminded herself that she was still in the presence of her Commanding Officer and stood at attention. "Right. Um," she started. Remember, you don't get a third chance at a first impression…"I'm Comm. Specialist Samantha Traynor… with Alliance R&D. I was part of the team retrofitting the Normandy after you turned it over to the alliance," she said, stuttering over a few words as she spoke too quickly.
Then something happened that Samantha wasn't expecting. Shepard smiled. She put up a hand, motioning towards Samantha. "Slow down, Specialist Traynor."
Samantha let off a nervous smile. "Sorry Commander. I worked in a lab; I'm not really used to reporting to a Commanding Officer. So I'm a bit out of practice I guess," she said before she could filter herself. She doesn't care, Traynor. Right now you're just another squib taking up her time. She felt her cheeks burn hotter.
"You're doing fine, Traynor," Shepard said, shifting her weight to her left hip and leaning slightly away from Samantha, crossing her arms over her stomach.
"Thank you," Samantha said, bringing a nervous hand up and instinctively tucking her hair behind her ear. "I never thought that I'd be working on an active war ship. I was on the ship working on retrofits when the Reapers hit Earth…" Samantha trailed off, the image of red beams annihilating buildings still too fresh in her mind. She closed her eyes, mentally shook herself out of it and continued, "In any event, I am honored to serve under you, Commander," her cheeks flushed again. Is everything you say an innuendo, Traynor? Remember, fraternization regulations… "For as long as you need me, that is," she added hastily.
"About that," Shepard interrupted, looking uncomfortable.
Samantha felt her cheeks pale. Oh god—she's going to kick me off because of last night. She was probably awake when I kissed her. . .She clenched her jaw, trying to stifle any emotion from showing on her face.
"I went over your station request and I have to say that—"
"Shepard," EDI's lustrous voice sounded over the speakers in Shepard cabin. Samantha noticed Shepard give a low growl and rolled her eyes slightly at being interrupted by the VI. "Some of our systems require further testing. And Specialist Traynor has been extremely effective during installation. I would prefer that she remain."
Samantha caught herself blinking. VI's don't make requests…
She glanced at Shepard's face. Shepard was distinctly looking away from Samantha, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched. Samantha's heart sank; she wants me off of the ship.
As Samantha's shoulder started to sink, Shepard let out a loud exhale and folded her arms over her stomach, "Got it EDI."
Samantha blinked rapidly, not quite understanding what had just happened. "Wait, when does a virtual intelligence make requests?"
Shepard finally looked back at Samantha, cocking her head to the side and narrowing her eyes. "EDI's an AI. Fully self-aware."
"Oh, I knew it," Samantha declared, making a playful frown at the ceiling. "I knew Joker was lying. You've been far too helpful and intuitive to be a proper VI."
"Jeff requested that I pretend to be a simple VI to protect myself," EDI sounded again. "I apologize for the deception."
"Thanks EDI, and I—" Samantha felt her cheeks start to burn red again. She chanced a glance at Commander Shepard, who was giving her a quizzical look. "I apologize for all those times I talked about how…hmm... attractive your voice was. ANYWAY—" she said hastily, pulling her datapad out of her cargo pocket. "Shall I give you a tour, Commander Shepard? I think you'll be impressed with the new upgrades." Samantha looked up from the datapad, ready to give the Commander a well rehearsed presentation of the new ship layout and equipment, but she stopped cold when she noticed the look in Shepard's eyes.
"I know the layout of the ship, Specialist. But—we need to talk," Shepard said, with a very stern composure.
Samantha swallowed hard. "About last night, you mean?"
Shepard looked back at Samantha, cocking her head to the side and narrowing her eyes. She thinks that EDI is a VI? "EDI's an AI. Fully self-aware." Either Specialist Traynor isn't as good as EDI says, or EDI is a better actress than I gave her credit for.
"Oh, I knew it," Samantha declared, frowning at the ceiling and shaking her head. "I knew Joker was lying. You've been far too helpful and intuitive to be a proper VI."
"Jeff requested that I pretend to be a simple VI to protect myself. I apologize for the deception."
"Thanks EDI, and I—" Samantha cheeks started to flush again. Shepard raised her eyebrow at Samantha. "Apologize for all those times I talked about how…hmm... attractive your voice was. ANYWAY—" Samantha said, carefully choosing her words while trying to still say them quickly. Shepard smirked, squinting at the Specialist, taking a humorous note on how attracted she was to a robotic voice. Specialist Traynor cleared her throat and pulled out a datapad out of her cargo pocket. "Shall I give you a tour, Commander Shepard? I think you'll be impressed with the new upgrades."
Shepard face went back to her stern reproach. If she's staying on the ship, then we have to talk about last night…shit. She let out a long exhale and said, "I know the layout of the ship, Specialist. But—we need to talk."
Shepard notice the flustered look in Samantha's face change to that of worry, creasing her laugh lines in a way that made her look less innocent. "About last night, you mean?" she responded sheepishly. Samantha still held the datapad in her hands, but she was starting to fidget with it, looking uncomfortable.
Shepard found herself nodding. "First, I should say thank you," she started. It got the worried look on Samantha's face to lessen. Good… I don't think that I can handle her looking upset. "It took a lot of guts to get between me and that wall."
Samantha nodded, making a pointed effort to not look Shepard in the eyes. "It was rather frightening to walk in on. But someone had to stop you before you destroyed the ship, I suppose." She smiled at her fleeting attempt at humor. She motioned to the door with her thumb, "I mean, did you see the dent you put out there?"
Samantha's face flattened when she saw the look on Shepard's face. Shepard clenched her jaw, staring unfocused at the door. She still couldn't believe that she'd let a subordinate see her loose it so badly.
"Speaking of which, how is your hand?" Samantha asked uncertainly.
Shepard blinked hard, forcing herself to refocus her vision. "Wha—oh it's fine," she said, waving her hand dismissively.
Samantha bit her lower lip, clutching the datapad a little tighter in her hands. "I know that I might be out of line, Commander, but I think that you should have the Doctor on duty give it a look."
Shepard shook her head. "It's fine. You did a fine job of patching it up, and the medigel took care of the rest."
Samantha nodded, still looking fairly nervous.
Shepard closed her eyes, let out another breath and then turned to face Samantha, looking her square in the eyes. "That aside, Specialist Traynor, EDI showed me the rest of what happened."
Samantha's eyes widen. "She did?"
Shepard nodded. "I need to say that what you saw last night is something that I cannot have the rest of the crew knowing about, you understand?" Shepard ended firmly.
"Oh, of course Commander. I would never blather that to the rest of the crew," Samantha responded quickly, taking a step forward and putting a nervous hand to her heart. "I meant what I wrote. You're a cape-less superwoman and that you're secret is safe with me," Samantha said, laughter returning to her eyes. Shepard saw her checks tinge red again before Samantha shrugged, dropping her hand from her chest and continued. "I mean, in all honesty Commander, I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through—what you've been through."
Shepard found herself nodding, letting her posture relax a little, trying not to picture Earth. She let Samantha's off kilter humor warrant a smile, though. She needed to bring up the fact that Samantha had kissed her, but she almost didn't want to. Part of her wanted to keep that to herself, letting Samantha think that EDI hadn't shown her the last part of the evening.
Shepard apparently stood there too long, her face falling while she was thinking about the Specialist in front of her. Shepard looked away from Samantha, chewing on her lip subconsciously.
Samantha took a few cautious steps toward Shepard, timidly putting a hand on Shepard's shoulder. "Commander, you're out there trying to save, not only one world, not even just a single solar system—you're out there trying to save the entire galaxy." Samantha moved her head, still stepping one step closer to her Commanding Officer, leaving a gap of maybe five inches between them. She moved her head attempting to catch Shepard's eye.
Shepard finally met her gaze and instantly had a feeling of calm wash over her. Normally she would have made a mention of getting too friendly with a subordinate, the way the Samantha gingerly cupped her shoulder and how intimately close she was to her; but she couldn't help welcoming the feeling of her touch. There was something about Specialist Traynor that made Shepard feel completely at ease. No other person, besides Ash, had that effect on her.
"We're only human," Samantha continued. Her hand moved from cupping Shepard's shoulder to closer to the base of her neck. Her grip was gentle, but she pulled Shepard towards her, just so. She gave a smile, showing her brilliantly white teeth and brought her other hand to her mouth, holding the datapad up, shielding her mouth from the side and whispered playfully. "I'll let in you in on my own little secret. . . I can't shoot worth a damn. Hints why I was put into R&D," she winked, her smile moving into her eyes. She dropped her hand and spoke at a normal volume. "But you, Commander…You can't lug around all of that emotional baggage every day. So, if you crying on my shoulder or needing someone to talk to every once in a while—or every day for that matter, I'm not picky—if it will help…" she paused, choosing her words as she held Shepard's gaze. "If it will help, then I'll gladly report for duty whenever you need me."
Shepard stood there for a moment, looking into Samantha's beautiful auburn eyes. She was vaguely reminded of Kelly Chambers, from when she was working with Cerberus. Kelly had adamantly tried to get close to Shepard, but the woman always made her uncomfortable. But staring into Samantha's eyes, Shepard fought the feeling of hotness in her own eyes—feeling as if she were to about start crying again; but this time it was a happy emotion. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in such a long time… not since before she met Ashley on Eden Prime.
She could faintly smell honey and some kind of tea—the smell that her hair had absorbed from the night before. Shepard took in a deep breath, taking it in when she noticed that the two of them were slowly moving closer together. She let out a quick cough and stood straight; negating all the space they'd moved in the last few moments and looked away from Samantha.
Samantha bit her lip and anxiously looked from side to side rapidly. She gave a curt nod and went to move back a bit; but before she let go of Shepard's shoulder, Shepard moved her hand up to Samantha's lingering hand and took hold of the top of it, squeezing ever-so-slightly. Without looking back into Samantha's eyes, for fear of doing something inappropriate, Shepard said "Thank you, Specialist Traynor."
Out of the corner of her eye she could see a smile wipe away the anxious complexion on Samantha's face. She even felt the tension leave her arm through her hand. Samantha squeezed slightly back on Shepard's fingers. "Call me Samantha, Commander."
Shepard smiled, letting go of Samantha's hand as she moved it from her shoulder. Shepard didn't understand why she had had the urge to touch Samantha, but it had happened before she could stop herself. "Thank you, Samantha." She looked back up to meet her eyes, and they smiled at each other for a moment longer. Shepard knew that she didn't want Samantha to leave. She didn't want to walk down to the CIC and face the war ahead of her. She wanted to stay at peace for a few moments longer, taking in the calming effect the Specialist Traynor had on her.
She glanced down at the datapad in Samantha's other hand, and smiled to herself. I can spend a few more minutes up here… "Tell me about the retrofits."
A/N: Okay, I promise that we're moving out of this scene. From here on out, I hope that the story will progress much more quickly. I don't plan on writing any scenes while Shepard is on the ground doing missions (so far that I've plotted out, anyway). I'll be writing mostly during the time spent flying to and from missions and some time spent on the Citadel. As always, thanks for reading and don't forget to review. Always makes me squeal in delight when I see a notification that someone's submitted a review. So go ahead… do it. You'll make my day.
