4. Drunken Spectacle
Chora's was turning out to be Bethany's kind of place: populated by a mostly male clientele too blitzed on various alcoholic beverages and illicit narcotics including but by no means limited to crack, smack, LSD, GBH, ecstasy, fantasy, ice, glue fumes and red sand to take much notice of much of anything beyond the semi-clad dancers.
This suited Bethany right down to the ground. The total lack of interest shown in her by the patrons was, in her view, the cat's pyjamas. During her younger days, while out clubbing with the girls, all eyes would invariably turn in her direction whenever she entered a bar or club. Then the wolf-whistles, catcalls and cries of Show Us Yer Tits! would begin. Bethany revelled in her new-found anonymity. This is awesome, she thought. This must be what being a wallflower felt like, and it felt great.
Settling herself at a vacant table awash with spilled beer that the overworked waitresses hadn't yet gotten around to mopping up, Bethany opened a fresh pack of cigarettes and tried mightily not to be revolted by the anti-smoking message printed on the packaging. The anti-smoking lobby had been resorting to ever more gruesome imagery in its efforts to convince people to stop committing suicide by cigarette. This particular packet bore full-colour images of, presumably, a lung cancer victim being autopsied, revealing, in puke-inducing detail the horrific degradation of the fellow's lungs. Ick, Beth thought as she lit up. Fully ick.
She got that smoking was an incredibly stupid thing for her to be doing but did they have to keep going on about it? She wondered exactly how many billions of credits had been spent over the years trying to combat the problem. Irony was, if people actually heeded the advice of the various government-funded stop smoking campaigns and stopped smoking, the lack of revenue generated by the taxes on cigarettes would, in short order, bankrupt most star systems. Then governments would have no choice but to raise taxes to compensate. She and others like her would be healthier because they were no longer smoking but they'd also be flat broke because they were no longer smoking. It was enough to turn a person to drink. Bethany stuffed the offending packet with its imagery of diseased lungs back into her handbag and ordered a drink.
The drink arrived, courtesy of a frazzled-looking young human woman, wearing just enough material not to breach decency laws. Funny thing, that. Men came here specifically to ogle female flesh yet if the waitresses went about their business topless, some brain-fried idiot would invariably point a shaking finger and scream, "Oh my God! You can see her nipples!"
"Busy night?" Bethany asked as she accepted her drink. She gave the girl a generous tip, the poor thing was probably working in the place to put herself through nursing school or something.
"Like you wouldn't believe," the waitress replied, a bit breathlessly. She'd had to practically run from an attempt by a patron to pull her into his lap. Normally, she took such things in her stride. Except this particular fellow wasn't wearing his pants. And he'd been very happy to see her.
"There's some convention or other on so we have this whole hotel full of drunken morons!" she shouted the last word at somebody on the other side of the room before turning back to Bethany. "Coming down here and doing what drunken men do." The girl sighed and sat opposite Beth. She was supposed to be working but, right at that point, the thought of having to deal with another drunk talking into her cleavage as he ordered another drink was almost enough to make her cry. "Things could be worse, I suppose," she said at length.
Bethany raised an eyebrow. "Worse how?"
The waitress raised a slender arm and pointed at the men practically drooling over the dancers. "At least I don't have those guys trying to paw me and shove credits into my underwear. Jesus!" she shook her head. "Asari are supposed to be all wise and intelligent and be able to mediate issues peacefully yet look at them!"
Bethany looked. It was kinda hard not to. One of the blue-skinned aliens in particular had her attention. The dancer was practically making love to herself with her hands. On stage. In front of who knew how many people. Bethany slammed back her drink and replaced the glass with slightly unsteady hands. She must've been slightly more drunk than she'd realised because watching that asari, she felt slightly turned on. "Damn," she said, part in admiration and part in anger at herself.
"Yeah," the waitress nodded agreement then, nodding at Bethany's cigarette, said, "Can I have a smoke?"
Bethany offered the pack, lit the cigarette with her Zippo. The girl sighed, leaned back in her seat and blew a smoke ring at the ceiling. "I better be going. The new owner's a real slave-driver, the bitch."
"New owner? She buy the place up?"
"Nah," the waitress said as she stood up to leave. She took another lungful of smoke before replying, "Fist got himself whacked a while back, and he owed this woman money so she just took over the place."
Before the woman left, Bethany asked for another drink. Looking back, that may not have been the best decision she could have made.
People tend to do silly things whilst in the grip of the demon drink. Some became convinced, suddenly and all at once that they possessed magical vocal skills and proceeded to murder their way through any number of classic hits via the Karaoke machine. Others, convinced they were the greatest lover in the known galaxy, proceeded to hit on everything bearing a pulse, much to the disgust of the objects of their drunken desire.
Others, like Bethany, suddenly became convinced they could do a much better job of gyrating semi-naked than the dancers and proceeded to demonstrate with wild abandon.
---
"...and in news just to hand, an excess of alcohol is believed to be responsible for a female human, thought to be the elder sister of the Spectre Commander Shepard-"
"Skipper, Skipper! Have a look at this!" Ashley exclaimed, pointing at their apartment vidscreen. As Shepard entered the living room from the kitchen, Ashley aimed the remote and raised the volume.
"-dancing drunkenly in Chora's Den before being arrested on charges of public indecency-"
"Oh dear God, what has she done now?" Shepard whispered, feeling his knees go weak. The last time Bethany had been in trouble with the law, the court case had dragged on for months.
"Citadel Nightly News is in possession of security camera footage of the incident. We warn that some viewers may find the following images disturbing."
Shepard and Ashley sat side by side on the couch, silently watching the footage of Bethany dancing half-naked atop the circular bar of Chora's Den. The footage wasn't nearly grainy enough for the Spectre's liking and the sound quality was also much clearer than he'd have liked.
Bethany tottered over to the bar, climbed atop a vacant bar stool and, arms outstretched for balance, mounted the bartop. Clasped in one hand was a mostly empty bottle of Champagne, in the other, one of Bethany's seemingly endless supply of cigarettes, glowing dully between her fingers.
The various patrons clapped and cheered. Several wolf whistles rang out along with cries of "Take it off!" Reeling slightly from side to side, Bethany dropped the bottle of alcohol, flicked the cigarette to the floor and-
"Oh tell me she didn't," Shepard almost moaned.
-gripping her blouse with both hands, pulled it up over her head, revealing a lacy black bra. Bethany's skin was tinted bluish red courtesy of Chora's lighting and the onlookers roared in appreciation.
In his apartment, Shepard slumped forward, head in his hands.
Onscreen, cheered on by the cataclysmically drunk bar patrons, Bethany began gyrating back and forth on the bar, whirling her blouse overhead before flinging it into the crowd. The blouse flew across the room before coming to rest wrapped around a turian's face. A taloned hand pulled it aside before the turian broke into applause.
"Wow, Skipper. Your sister's a little wild," Ash opined. Unfortunately for the Skipper's blood pressure, his sister was only just getting warmed up.
Centred on the screen, Bethany began belting out the chorus of an old song from an earlier century. "I kissed a girl and I liked it, the taste of her cherry chapstick...I kissed a girl just to try it..."
"Wow," Ashley said, sounding impressed.
As she sang, Bethany began executing a series of high kicks, thrilling the onlookers. After one particularly enthusiastic high kick, she lost her balance and fell backward out of sight behind the bar. "Wah!" she screamed before landing with an audible thump.
As the images cut to the salarian newsreader, who seemed to be having trouble keeping a straight face, Shepard muttered darkly, "I'll kill her. Yes, I am going to murder her and make it look like an accident."
The newsreader wrapped up the report, saying, "After falling from the bar, the woman was subdued, for her own safety and was placed under arrest by members of Citadel Security-" Shepard took the remote from Ash and turned off the vid.
---
Bethany stood in the drunk tank of the C-Sec Academy, arms crossed over her breasts, hands clutching her shoulders for warmth. The skin of her upper body and arms was marbled with gooseflesh - she hadn't noticed the cooler temperatures the last time she'd been here. The C-Sec pigs who'd cuffed her had told her they were keeping the blouse as 'evidence.' Bethany thought it was rather more likely they just wanted the chance to ogle her curves a while longer. It was flattering, in a perverse sort of way, knowing that, as she approached her thirty-fifth year, she was still capable of turning on the opposite sex. And even those of the same sex, if the number of drunk young things eyeing her off at Chora's was any indication.
But still, being made to stand around in the drunk tank, shivering while she waited for Augie to come bail her out was beginning to grate on her nerves. Augie was coming to bail her out, wasn't he? He wasn't going to let her sit here all night, in some misguided attempt to 'teach her a lesson?'
That was the sort of thing their father might try, were he on the station. Besides, she had already learned the lesson - getting plastered and dancing drunkenly in public was a no-no. Fine. Good. Could she please go home now?
"Come on, little brother, this isn't funny any more. I know your contacts in C-Sec must have called you to let you know I'm here."
Bethany glanced at her watch. She'd been in here over an hour already and counting. A chill certainly began stealing through her - Augie wasn't coming to bail her out. He was going to let her remain here, cold and alone.
Swallowing past the lump rising in her throat, Bethany sat on the hard mattress, that, aside from the toilet, was the only feature of the cell. Slumped forward, hands covering her face, she didn't see her brother or Ashley as they walked towards her cell.
"Beth," Shepard's voice quietly spoke her name. Bethany lowered her hands from her face, pushed the hair out of her eyes and turned to face him.
"You came," she said.
"Of course. You're my sister."
"I thought you were going to leave me here, to teach me a lesson," Bethany confessed.
"Ash talked me out of it," her brother said, with a small smile. Bethany locked eyes with Williams, who nodded.
"You look cold," Ash observed, unbuttoning her jacket and offering it to Bethany through the bars. Bethany stepped forward and took it. As she pulled it on, a passing C-Sec officer called out, "Oh I was enjoying the view!"
Bethany glared at the man, briefly considered giving him the one-finger salute then decided he wasn't worth the effort.
"Come on, let's get you home," Shepard said.
---
Augustus had forgotten just how much of a 'morning person' his sister was and she was reminding him of that fact, forcibly. As Augustus lay under the sheets alongside Ash, still about ninety percent asleep, he slowly became aware of a hissing sound from somewhere in the apartment. After analysing the sound for several seconds, his mind identified the hissing as the shower. Cracking one eyelid open, the Spectre saw that, according to the bedside clock, it had just gone 0330. Last night, his sister had gone to Chora's, gotten drunk enough to dance half-naked on the bar, was taken into custody and had to be bailed out and now, only a matter of hours later, she was wide awake and seemingly very chipper. If the song lyrics he could hear her belting out from under the shower were any indication.
Shepard groaned and covered his head with his pillow; it didn't block out the sound of her singing.
"Cause nobody wakes up feeling the same, she's got a new agent, she's got a new name, she's got nothing to hide, she could've been more, she's just a private school kid, school kid whore."
As the sound of the shower cut off, Shepard removed the pillow from over his head and, deciding he wouldn't get any more sleep with Bethany up, rolled out of bed. His movements disturbed the mattress enough that Ashley rolled over, "What time is it?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.
"Too early," Shepard griped. Reaching over to stroke her bare shoulder, he said, "Go back to sleep, honey." Ash didn't reply, for she was already asleep.
Shepard left the bed, pulled on his robe and headed towards the bathroom. As he approached, the door slid open, copious amounts of steam billowing out. Emerging from the cloud, wrapped in a towel and humming tunelessly was his sister.
"Did you use up all the hot water?"
Bethany shrugged, "Probably. What's for breakfast? I'm starving."
Later that morning, Bethany, Shepard and Ashley strode out to Alliance Docking Bay 1194 where the now-famous SSV Normandy had been berthed since the geth assault on the Citadel. Bathed in the bright lights of the docks, the ship seemed incredibly sleek and deadly to Bethany who, before now, had only ever seen the ship in the documentary made about it. The letters spelling out the frigate's name glowed under the lights, seeming to the older woman like a beacon of hope in a galaxy full of death, destruction, greed, corruption, mad scientists and rachni, don't forget them.
"So this is the tub my tax money's been paying for?" Bethany said, hoping to coax a rise out of brother.
He didn't disappoint. "Normandy is not a tub! She's the most advanced ship in the human fleet.." he trailed off as Bethany laughed aloud.
"You always were too easy to wind up, Augie," she said, still chuckling. Ash looked from sister to brother, smiling slightly at them. The interplay between the Shepard siblings was so much like the relationships she had with her own sisters.
"And that's another thing," the Commander went on, standing to face both his partner and his sister. Once we get on board the ship, you," he pointed at Bethany, "are no longer my sister, you're a Marine, so act like one. And Ash," he said, voice softening as he briefly touched her face, "You're not my girlfriend, you're my Gunnery Chief. Do we have any problems with this?"
Ash embraced the Skipper tightly, whispered something into his ear too quietly for Bethany to hear. Bethany turned away; public displays of affection made her gag and watching her own brother going all gooey eyed threatened to make her vomit.
"Are you two done yet?" she asked at length, studying the frigate's hull.
As she stood in the airlock, eyes closed, feeling the decontamination beam play over her, Bethany attempted to sort through the feelings evoked by being back on an Alliance ship for the first time in a decade. Her previous stint in the Marines had ended with her assaulting a superior officer and being summarily discharged and even before that, her career hadn't been particularly noteworthy; she hadn't even managed to rise in rank above Private First Class.
Augie, pardon, Lieutenant Commander Shepard had always been the high achiever of the family, annoyingly so. He'd learned to walk and talk faster than she had but she'd always had the edge in smartmouthery and out-and-out disrespect for authority. A smile tugged at her lips as the decontamination process completed and the ship's VI spoke in that slightly sexy machine voice they all seemed to have these days. "Logged: the commanding officer is aboard, XO Pressly stands relieved."
"That thing have a name?" Bethany enquired.
"The VI?"
"No, Augie, the food processor!"
"Beth..." Shepard said in warning. "Why would we name the VI?"
"On my last posting, we called the VI Bitching Betty," Bethany said, following her brother as he made a left turn, leading them to the bridge and, presumably, the helmsman. Bethany rolled her eyes, it was a good thing the ship had only a skeleton crew, if she had to meet and greet the entire crew and memorise more than a handful of names, she'd probably shoot herself.
"Bethany, I'd like to introduce you to our helmsman, Flight Lieutenant-" as the man in the pilot's seat craned his head around to face the newcomers, Bethany gasped in delight.
"Jeffrey Moreau!" she squealed, "Son of a bitch! I haven't seen you since..."
Joker smiled broadly while Shepard and Ash looked at each other, confused. "Since you punched your LT's head in and got booted out of the service," he finished for her.
Bethany pushed past her brother, settled herself in the vacant co-pilot's seat and shook Joker's hand. "So, broken your legs recently?" she asked brightly.
"Only a couple of times," Joker shrugged as if to say what can you do?
"Uh," Shepard said. "How do you two know each other?"
"Joker was the junior helmsman while I was serving on the San Francisco. It's been a while, hasn't it, Jeff?"
"Yeah. You look well, Beth," Joker said and from the tone of their conversation, it was obvious even to Shepard that there was some kind of history between his helmsman and his sister. "Call me crazy, but haven't I seen your face in a magazine somewhere?"
"Probably. I've done a bit of modelling work here and there," Bethany waved a hand as though this wasn't important.
Joker blinked, scratched at his beard. "From marine to model, you always were special. Uh, I mean.." uncharacteristically Joker was at a loss for words.
"Maybe we should show you around the rest of the ship?" Shepard suggested.
"Augie, don't interrupt when the grown-ups are talking," Bethany said, not looking at him.
Joker sniggered. "Augie, that's good."
Bethany actually felt the pressure of her brother's glare on the back of her neck and sighed. "We'll catch up later, Moreau," she said, rising from her seat. "Say, what happened to the Frisco, anyway?"
Joker's face turned somber as he replied, "It was at the battle for the Citadel. Half a dozen geth cruisers just took her apart."
"Fuck me," Bethany said quietly. It had been ten years, but the San Francisco had always been 'her' ship and she felt a sense of loss for all the lives snuffed out by those motherless synthetics.
Feeling disheartened at the loss of her old ship, Bethany trailed behind her brother and Williams as they made their way away from the bridge, down the decking past the rows of now-crewless sensor stations and to the CIC.
Standing in uniform, hands clasped behind his back before the galaxy map display that dominated the CIC, was the Normandy's executive officer, Pressly. He saluted as Shepard approached. "Good to be back on board, sir."
Returning the salute, Shepard nodded. "I appreciate you cutting short your leave to be here, Pressly."
The older man shook his head, "No problem at all, Commander." Turning to Bethany, he said, "And this must be your sister. You kept that quiet, I have to say."
"I fail to see how my family dynamics had any impact on our previous mission, Pressly," Shepard said, jaw muscles bunching together.
"Don't worry about it, sir," Bethany addressed Pressly.
"Oh sure, you can call him sir but not me!" Shepard's voice sounded too loud even to his own ears and a part of him realised how petulant he must look.
Blithely ignoring him, Bethany went on, "I've always been the black sheep of the family. Well me and crazy Uncle Fred. Remember him, Augie?"
"Beth," her brother replied helplessly.
"Ah, Uncle Fred, he was convinced that, after First Contact, the turians had abducted him and implanted microchips into his brain so they could control him and use him as a sleeper agent to attack his own people. How mental is that?"
"Uncle Fred had a medical condition and you shouldn't make light of it," the Commander pointed out.
"If by 'medical condition' you mean he was batshit crazy then I'd be inclined to agree with you."
"We should keep moving. Carry on, Pressly," Shepard said.
"Aye aye, sir."
"You're scheduled for a medical about now so I'll show you to the medlab," Shepard informed his sister, leading them away from the CIC. Inside the medlab, Bethany saw several exam tables jutting from the bulkhead as well as an array of medical scanners and other implements. A woman who appeared to be in her twenties stood up from a desk as they entered. The medtech wore a pristine white nurse's uniform and moved with an almost ethereal grace, a small smile playing across her delicate elfin features.
"Since Dr Chakwas is still on leave, I'll leave you in the capable hands of Nurse Kitty," Shepard said before he and Ash departed.
The doors hissed shut as they left and the nurse stepped towards Bethany, eyeing her as she approached. "My name's Kitty," she said, voice almost a purr.
"First or last?" Bethany asked, giving into the urge to cross her arms protectively over her chest. Something about the nurse's intent gaze unnerved her slightly.
Kitty stepped in close enough to kiss Bethany, if she desired, "You decide," she whispered. The tip of Kitty's tongue ran delicately across black-painted lips and, as she stepped back, Bethany caught a hint of Nurse Kitty's perfume, recognised it as being from the Sweet Vixen line-up. Kitty's black lipstick, eyeshadow and eyeliner contrasted sharply with her spacer-pale skin, the effect at the same time a little confronting and alluring.
Bethany swallowed, feeling her throat click. A lesbian nurse. A lesbian nurse on a naval frigate. It's like I stepped into a porno flick.
"Well, let's get started," Kitty said. "Take off your clothes."
Bethany leaned away from Nurse Kitty. Nurse Kitty leaned in an equal distance towards her. "Uh, maybe I'll come back another time." When you're not about to try jumping my bones.
Kitty's right index finger waggled back and forth. The fingernail was painted black to match her lip gloss. "Ah ah ahhh! Commander Shepard, my CO and your brother instructed me to ensure that you're fit for duty before you leave here. Look, I'll be honest with you: I was at Chora's when you performed that totally awesome song and dance number."
Oh hell no
"And as I sat at my table, sandblasted half out of my mind, I thought to myself My God, that woman is gorgeous! I'd love to be able to take her back to my place and have my wicked, wicked way with her."
Oh fiddlesticks
"Then those C-Sec pigs came and took you away in handcuffs, lucky devils! Now, by some happy coincidence here I am and here you are, alone...together."
Bethany stumbled backwards a step, then another before her retreat was blocked by an exam table.
Nurse Kitty heaved an almost pained sigh, "But...don't worry. As long as we're on this ship and I'm wearing this uniform," Kitty placed a hand to her throat and slowly caressed her throat, chest and stomach, "I'll be on my very best behaviour, the consummate professional." Turning to open a drawer, Kitty removed a pair of latex gloves and snapped them on.
Smiling impishly, blue eyes sparkling with glee, Nurse Kitty ordered, "Clothes. Off. Now."
---
Bethany exited the medlab at a fast walk, having been pronounced fit and healthy by a beaming Nurse Kitty who made no secret of the fact that she'd love to perform certain sinful but oh so very sweet acts upon her patient's body. Bethany was so intent on putting as much space between herself and the saucy little minx as possible that she didn't see the person coming from the other direction until they'd collided with each other.
Bethany recoiled, hand to her forehead and bit down a curse.
Liara, the victim of Bethany's momentum, fell heavily to the decking, the datapad she'd been carrying clattering to the floor.
"Oh! Dr T'soni, I didn't see you there," Bethany grabbed the asari's arm, pulling her upright.
"Ms Shepard! I didn't realise you were aboard already," Liara said and, noticing her datapad still on the floor, leaned forward to pick it up. At the same time Bethany leaned forward to pick it up.
Again, the two women's heads banged together.
"Ohhh, that's gonna leave a mark," Bethany moaned.
"I am so sorry!" Liara sounded frantic, "Are you injured? Should I call the nurse?"
"No!" Bethany snapped, "God no! That woman's deranged."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"I mean that..." Bethany trailed off, wondering exactly how to frame her reply to the asari, whose blue skin had deepened to violet in her distress. "Just try not to make eye contact with her and you should be fine," Bethany finally managed. Liara seemed like a nice girl, if a 107 year old could be termed a girl and Nurse Kitty would likely eat her alive.
"Is there something about the nurse I should know about? Please, if you know anything, I would greatly appreciate you telling me."
Bethany leaned back against the bulkhead, looked around to make sure nobody else was within earshot and motioned Liara closer. "Just so you know, Nurse Kitty likes women."
Liara blinked. "I see..." she trailed off, clearly not seeing at all.
Bethany tried again, "No, I mean she likes women. In that way."
"What way would that be?" By the Goddess, the Commander's sister was obviously an intelligent woman yet she was making no sense whatsoever.
"She's a lesbian!" Bethany said, louder than she'd intended.
Augie chose that exact moment to enter the conversation, "Who's a lesbian?"
"Your nurse."
"She's not," Shepard sounded shocked.
"How can you be so clueless, Augie!" Bethany snapped. "She'd very much like to see me bound to her bed with silken scarves, apparently."
Liara gasped, "Nurse Kitty wishes a joining with you?" Liara felt a curious churning settle in her stomach and it took her several seconds to identify the feeling. It was jealously. That is ridiculous, Liara. You barely know this woman, why should you care if the nurse wishes to..to..
Bethany's words broke her train of thought, "If a joining is what they're calling it these days, then yeah, she wants to join with me until the cows come home."
"Excuse me, I should get back to my work station," Liara muttered and departed.
Watching her leave, the siblings glanced at each other, "What's with her?" Shepard asked.
"Hell if I know. Does everybody on this ship have issues or is it just her and your nymphomaniac of a nurse?"
A/N: the scene at Chora's draws inspiration from a chapter in Special Effects by Prioris in which Liara and Ashley go to Chora's Den and subsequently end up in the drunk tank, bailed out by Shepard. Read it, it's funny stuff.
Obviously, the song sung by Bethany is I Kissed A Girl by Katy Perry. The song in the shower is Private School Kid by Sarah McLeod.
