25th Feb 2011
~ Finding The Heart ~
Handle With Care
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the intellectual property of Bioware, not mine.
WARNING: Rated for MA for future chapters (even though I haven't written them yet – they could very well be). 16yrs+ readers only please. Foul language, adult concepts.
Author note: I've purposefully tried not to describe Shepard too much, after all, fans of Mass Effect will each have their own versions of Shepard, so I leave those parts up to your imagination.
At 12:08h an internal report landed in Shepard's inbox. Zaeed had been back to see Dr Chakwas again, so the doctor's report read. She had of course given him a stern telling off for having slipped up on his promise to the Commander, but she'd given him the meds and now he was back to where he was yesterday. The good doctor commented that he was irritatingly cheerful about the whole episode and that she was genuinely wondering if the man needed psychiatric help. Shepard filed the report and tried not to grin when she presumed to know why the mercenary had indeed been so cheerful. She did return a note to the doctor to rest her concerns, advising her that she had again talked with him this morning, that they were working on the real causes of his problem, and that hopefully his newfound enthusiasm would be put to good use.
At 14:13h Joker informed her that Zaeed had requested a stop at Earth (of all places!). "Apparently he's got some stuff to pick up and has to go there personally to sign the documentation or something... says it's on your orders so I thought I should run it by you first." Shepard quickly worked out what it was for and why it was Earth.
"That was faster than I expected. Yes it's on my orders. When is he requesting the stop?"
"He's not sure yet commander – says he's yet to arrange the exact details, but it will be some time Friday, he says."
"OK. Well just make sure you contact the Reapers and tell them they'll have to wait until Monday if they're going to ruin my day."
"Hahahaha... That's real funny Commander."
"I'm considering the idea of begging some shore leave off the Illusive Man. We've been running tight for months and I think the crew deserves a break if at all possible. Earth's not the best place to loose Cerberus operatives off their leashes I'm sure, but there's got to be some safe havens he knows that these people can go."
"...Wow - what's put you in such a good mood..?"
"Oh nothing in particular... Just the thought of coming down there and breaking your legs..."
"OK, OK I'll quit asking."
"Just don't tell Miranda yet – I'm not set on the idea yet and I don't want to make her blow a fuse and come storming up here to tell me what's what without a real reason."
"Really Commander? I thought making Miranda blow a fuse for no apparent reason was your favourite pastime."
"Seriously. One-on-one sparring. You and me."
"My lips are sealed."
"Out."
Shepard mused over the idea. Looking at the pile of reports she needed to fill in however, Shepard wondered if shore leave would only come the next time she died. She scowled at the size of her report 'to-do' list and figured it payback for two years supposed shore leave. She knuckled down and did it, looking over the schematics of the dead reaper recovered from the Cerberus research team, the first speculative suggestions for the design of a Collector-specific bioweapon from Dr Solus... Well that sent shivers down her spine. I'm not sure which is worse, thinking that I already wiped out their entire race and maybe I could have saved them somehow, or the idea that I didn't and I get to live with the consequences of personally pressing a button to release a bioweapon that will...
There were many other projects and reports to attend to, and the hours ticked away with work to do. How does Miranda cope with so much report-filling? Speak of the devil... At 16:55h Miranda called.
"...Shepard? What the bloody hell did you say to Zaeed? He just dropped by to inform me that his entire stash of whiskey and any forthcoming deliveries of alcohol are now in the hands of Gardner on your orders." - so spoke the bodiless Australian accent of a woman genuinely unnerved.
"Honestly Miranda, I'm surprised my talking to him had such an impact. But what can I say? You should try diplomacy sometimes – sometimes it pays off."
"Shepard why do you insist -" She could just imagine Miranda rolling her eyes to that.
"Miranda why do you insist on taking that tone with me?" She was rather glad that she had disallowed video to be linked with her private quarter's communications system. That way Miranda couldn't see that she was grinning like an idiot.
"Shepard regardless what you may think of my abilities I do not consider attempting to persuade EDI to allow access to my quarter's security feed so that Zaeed could view me in the shower a simple matter of diplomacy -"
"Well I can't really blame the man. You've said it yourself in as many words: you do have the body of a goddess."
"...Shepard?"
"Miranda you need to loosen up, spend some time with the crew, drink a little of that whiskey and let your hair down. You're smart, you're gorgeous, and you should flaunt it for fun – not just for games."
"I beg your pardon your Commander but-"
"No more 'buts'. No more excuses Miranda. So you know not to trust anyone with important matters without an interrogation first – I understand that and I respect your reasons. But that doesn't mean you can't let your hair down."
"Commander I – I really don't think..."
"Don't worry I'll make sure Zaeed doesn't bother you. I threatened to space him if he didn't clean up his act, and I'll skin him if he tries to get newsfeed on your ass again, you have my word on that."
"...Thank you... Commander..." OK... so now I do wish I could at least see her face... Shepard was actually trying to help the woman, but it didn't stop her from having a little fun at the same time, after all what was it Joker said about Garrus when they got him on board this time around? Well the way Shepard figures it, Miranda acts like she's got a stick up her [very fine] ass...
"Now I want you personally to hand out drinks to everyone at shift-changeover, 20:00h. I want you to organise getting the crew together with Gardner and Kelly – she's always up for a party. I want nibbles and something for those who can't or don't want to drink alcohol. I'm going to try to make this a weekly thing if possible whilst things are quiet. Be sure nobody has more than one shot and make sure the next on-shift each have a plate of food with that drink please – I don't want any on-duty accidents, hear?"
"Shepard you want me to..?" I can just imagine the terror in her eyes right now.
"Yes. I might join you later. Technically I will be going off-duty, so that makes it your responsibility. I think the crew deserves it sooner rather than later considering what an ass Zaeed's been, and I couldn't think of a better time than general shift rotation. I'll let you handle the details of who stays on and who swaps with who. Just make sure this is all by way of an apology from him."
"...Yes, Commander..."
"Alright then." Shepard heard the beep of her door, and her stomach went a little queasy when EDI simultaneously flashed a message onto her console (another thing Shepard had taught the AI to do: message her rather than announce via audio who it was whilst she was taking a call). Her breath hitched as she read it: Zaeed is here to see you Commander.
"Actually slight change of plan Miranda -" Shepard quickly added, "Seeing as you're already up, can you take over this shift please? To be honest I'm pretty tired, but it looks like Zaeed's finished arranging things sooner than expected. I'll do my best to keep him out of the way for you this evening."
"...Acknowledged, Shepard..."
"Thanks Miranda. Out." [Click] Now all she had to do was find her nerves before she let him in... He was earlier than she'd expected by a day at least, and part of her had doubted he would come at all. The man continued to surprise her though – taking a bollocking off the good Dr (without so much as a "And you can stick that effing thing..." from him), taking his meds without complaint, apologising to Miranda (Shepard really hadn't expected that), relinquishing his most treasured and likely longstanding habit, and getting all of it done long before the deadline she had set for him. What next? She wondered. There was something endearing about his thoroughness, and evident determination to please her.
Shepard put the thought of him trying to snoop on Miranda's ass to the back of her mind. He had – to be fair – been rather drunk when he made that request, and if Shepard was even going to think about giving the guy a chance, she had to give him the benefit of a clean slate where a lot of things were concerned. Besides, he had given her some great opportunities for winding Miranda up – I should actually be grateful. She stood up with a smile on her face, brushed her uniform into order, and signalled EDI to open the door.
Zaeed's boots sounded his approach after the door clunked shut. He was walking more slowly than usual. He looked hesitant. Instead of coming to where Shepard sat at her console he leaned against the fish tank on the opposite wall, his silhouette cut sharply from the blue light behind him. Normally he would at least come as far as the bathroom door before picking a leaning spot.
"...Shepard." he nodded, as he folded his arms and crossed his ankles. It was perhaps only then that Shepard actually noticed for the first time just how defensive his body language was, and probably always had been. You could be forgiven for not noticing given his brash and ballsy attitude to everything – never intimidated easily was Zaeed. In fact it's possible Shepard had never seen him intimidated by anyone or anything. Yet with every pose and every move he made he drew the line that said: "That's you. This is me. Keep away." It was a little sad actually, to realise just how hard he worked to maintain that distance. Right now, she could see he needed that distance back again.
"...Hey. You're a little earlier than I expected." She smiled as leaned back against the desk, briefly eying her model collection to put him at ease. See I'm relaxed, this is easy, no pressure...
"If this is a bad time I can come back later..."
"No – No. It's fine." She purred softly – perhaps too softly, as he was quick to respond:
"I, uh, didn't want to stay long. I know you're busy. Just wanted to let you know I've ... done everything you asked." He swallowed and his eyes flickered nervously. The tone in his voice hinted: and I've done it all for you... Butterflies hatched in Shepard's stomach but she did her best to ignore their first attempts at flight.
"I know, I heard." She smiled and slid him a glance as she turned to face her models fully, and folded her own arms. She purposefully mimicked his defensive body language to set him at ease. "You've been pretty busy. I think you surprised quite a few people, but it was a pleasant surprise." She nodded, and smiled at him again before turning back to scrutinise one model in particular.
"Huh." He shrugged and she caught the movement in her peripheral vision. "Well that rabble 'ad better bloody appreciate it. Best goddamn stuff in the galaxy that is, and lots of it. Cost me a fair few credits that shit did an' I'd hate to see it go to waste." He grumbled, but it came with a smile. Just for an instant there was something else – something hidden in his expression... shame perhaps? Embarrassment over how he'd lost control and wound up here, her knowing pretty much every indiscretion he'd made?
A few specks of dust had gathered on the model Shepard was staring at. She huffed with annoyance, fixated on the blasphemous specks as she carefully lifted the model from its holder. "Hmph. Anti-static paint obviously doesn't mean 'no dust'..." she mumbled quietly, extending her arm without looking to open one of the desk drawers, reaching inside and pulling out a small paintbrush with a fluffy end. Still frowning as she concentrated, she carefully brushed the specs of dust away. She tried not to notice the sound of footsteps as they approached her, although her heart did skip a beat.
"Some pretty detailed models you have displayed here. That Sovereign?" Zaeed asked as she hesitantly placed the ship back on its holder.
"That one?" She grinned, prideful, "You bet. As soon as I saw it I knew I wanted it." Shepard leaned towards the model and her smile turned more serious, pulling her arm back and tucking it over the other. "Of course when I bought it and found it had been labelled as a Geth dreadnaught I was fuming."
"Goddamn sons of bitches... I'll bet you were." Zaeed snarled sympathetically as he stood by her side and leaned towards the model. "Looks like you fixed that though." He grinned with a glint of mischief in his eye. It had been a while since she saw him smile like that – probably not since he no-scoped a merc with his sniper rifle at a hundred yards. He was particularly pleased with himself after that, not least because he got a surprised look from Shepard at the time. She swore if it weren't for the size of it and the kick-back he'd be able to shoot from the hip with it, because he seemed able to do that with pretty much everything else.
Shepard pulled herself back from the memory and again found herself staring at Sovereign's dark and glossy form as she so often did these days. "Yeah. This model is here to remind me of a lot of things." She sighed, "It reminds me that no matter what you do, some people just want to stick their fingers in their ears, scream 'lalala!' as loudly as they can, and hope that a problem will just go away." She pulled a sour expression but slowly relented with a half-smile as she added: "It also reminds me that impossible odds don't have to mean impossible to beat. It also reminds me of what I can do." Shepard shrugged, "Sometimes... I need reminding."
"Huh." Zaeed huffed as if he was surprised by that as he stood beside her. He leaned forward to get a closer look, placing both hands on the work surface to balance. There was a brief silence. "Y'know..." He said rather quietly, "...all those times you've come to see me an' I've waxed goddamn nostalgic til the cows came home over missions I'd done, big kills, and escaping from sticky situations... It never once occurred to me in all that time you never told me any of your war stories. Compared to some of the shit that you've pulled off, my shit is pretty tame."
"I don't need to boast." Shepard shrugged carelessly, but her words dripped with venom. "My stories are all over the extranet." She mocked herself, frowning with disdain, and sneered as if something bitter had just caught her tongue.
"I always guessed what the media showed wasn't the whole story. Scheming bastards that they are..." Zaeed shook his head.
"They only tell the bits they want to tell, and they only hear the bits they want to hear."
Zaeed shrugged. "...And if you don't fit that nice little 'ideal human' box the Alliance tries to ram you into then you're out on your ear with a sore arse to boot. I remember that reporter you saw on the Citadel, got the impression you two had a history. Why the bloody hell didn't you punch that smug bitch right in the face and tell it like it is? Hell of an opportunity you let go there Shepard."
"Short answer? Nobody wants to know."
Zaeed sighed and shook his head. Shepard tried to laugh it off. She didn't really like thinking about how the Galaxy had defiled her name, everything she'd done, and tried to re-write history. IT rather put a downer on her day.
"That's just the way the galaxy works I'm afraid." She smiled. "But the thought occurs to me I could have some fun with it now. Being dead for two years then showing up alive sprouts all sorts of rumours. I could plant some rumours of my own... I've been trying to think of a good one."
"Howabout we say – just for shits and giggles, mind, - that the galaxy's golden girl is goin' out with the galaxy's most brutal and bloodthirsty bounty hunter?" It was a decidedly British humour: never quite saying what you mean yet somehow simultaneously asking several questions at once, any one (or all) of which could be the real question he was asking: Do you want them to know about us? We're not exactly an obvious match for one another – do you really think this can work? It is kinda funny don't you think? Sure would soil that pretty name of yours...
"What?" Shepard responded with fake outrage, "You mean that son-of-a-bitch who founded the notorious mercenary gang the Blue Suns? I don't know... seems a bit 'out there' don't you think?" They both laughed. Shepard grinned with a sinister glint in her eye as the thought appealed, "Well I haven't thought of anything better. Sure, why not? I'll go with that." She shrugged. It's not exactly like they could do much worse to my reputation than I have done already by being in cahoots with the Illusive Man...
Zaeed said nothing for a time, and the pair of them just looked over the ships displayed in front of them. It was an impressive collection considering Shepard had purchased, assembled, and painted them all in the short half a year or so since her resurrection. She looked at the SR-1 fondly, for a time lost in memories. Damn... She thought coming back to reality, when did I get to be this relaxed around him? Relaxed enough to daydream? Still, it felt as if a weight had lifted from both their shoulders, and that was one good thing not to be overlooked.
Zaeed was the first to ease them out of the comfortable silence. Eying the brush Shepard still held in her hand he remarked: "Y'know... if you clean one you should really clean the others." There was an air of protectiveness there – out of all the crew on the Normandy, Zaeed understood her love for these models and her neuroticism regarding her keeping them in good condition. Of course... he's a fellow collector isn't he?
"OK, OK. I admit it." She rolled her head and slumped her shoulders. "My fingers have been itching go over the others ever since I noticed Sovereign had caught some dust... But if get into that job it'll take me hours to complete. I'll dust them off, then I'll figure the whole area needs to be dust-free. Then I'll remember the anti-static spray I've got. Heaven forbid I notice a bit of paintwork that could be done better..." She warned, shaking her head sternly.
"Sounds to me like you could use some help."
"That's..." Not what I would have expected... "Very thoughtful of you, really it is. I know you're used to cleaning things carefully, but these things are a lot more delicate than any gun you've been caring for..." Shepard began to say, nobody – absolutely nobody touches my model ships except me.
"I know how to take care of models. You forget? Got me a model of a Turian cruiser I took down for a mission once. Sure I told you the story. Shepard I used to build these things with my eyes closed before you were even born. Took care of my dad's models. He always wanted to be a goddamn pilot, but the old bugger had been too fat to pass the physical and he was too goddamn dumb to pass the exams. So, instead, he was fanatic about his models."
"Well so am I." Shepard stared at him warningly, "But anyway, they're not that bad. Might do a thorough job on them during my next shore leave." Which gives him a good idea of what my shore leaves are usually like... Shepard reprimanded herself. Anyway for heaven's sake I can't be such a bachelorette as to choose cleaning my models over hanging out with my ...
'Boyfriend' just sounded plain wrong ... 'partner' almost as bad ... and 'lover' – well that sent her mind down tracks she was sure it shouldn't be treading, yet.
"Fair enough." He chuckled. Shepard watched him nervously as he leaned towards the SR-1. He said nothing, but pulled a face like he'd tasted something sour and sucked air through his teeth.
"What? What is it?" She asked protectively. Regardless, her nape prickled at the thought there might be more dust up there... hiding... Damn you Sovereign... for so many things... Why do I get the feeling like I can fool him even less on that than I can fool myself?
"... Oh... uh... Nothing."
"Tell me." Shepard scowled at him.
"I shouldn't – you might end up cleaning the lot of 'em, like you said."
"Why? What can you see?" The fact that she wasn't quite tall enough to see over the top of that model was really getting on her nerves.
"Oh it's only a tiny little bit of dust..." He sounded so patronising she wanted to thump him. Instead she gave in to the nagging of her conscience as she clambered up onto the work surface. She was perfectly oblivious to the fact Zaeed was – through half-lidded eyes and a rather lazy smirk – rather enjoying the sight of her doing this. To be fair he was rather pleased with himself and somewhat surprised to find she'd fall for it. He leaned back just enough to get a good look at her rear while she sorted herself out so that she could look down on the model properly...
"Oh my god!" She exclaimed (Zaeed quickly bringing himself forward again before she noticed), "I can't believe how dirty it is! And..." She leaned across in front of Zaeed as he tried to contain the primal urge to moan lustfully at the scent of her, propping herself on one knee, "look at Destiny Ascension!" As the worry spread, she quickly lifted herself to stand so that she could get a view of them all. "How?" She mumbled, "How? I swear I only cleaned them last month!" she asked, hands on hips.
"Huh." Zaeed frowned as she twisted to face him and had the appearance of a man completely serious, except for the raised eyebrow which gave away how much he was enjoying getting her this worked up. "Looks to me like you're definitely going to be busy now..." He shook his head and tutted, "Well... I guess I should really go and leave you to it then." He shrugged and stepped away from the display, turning to go.
"Hang on a minute..." She said reluctantly and climbed back down.
"What's that? Sudden change of mind? Decided you want some help after all?"
Shepard thought about her models, and remembered her promise to keep Zaeed out of Miranda's way this evening. Her neuroticism wasn't going away, not now anyway, and it was the best compromise. "Alright, alright. You can help. But if you damage one of these so help me -"
"I promise. I'm done being threatened of being thrown out of the nearest airlock. At least for this week." He smirked and turned back, planting his feet shoulder width apart.
"Here that universe?" She mumbled quietly to herself, "I've got a mercenary's promise..." then louder and directly to Zaeed with a piercing stare: "Fine. Here." She said, taking the SR-1 off its holders and holding it out gingerly towards him. "You can start on this one, hold it here and here, the model's weak points are here, here and here." She motioned with her fingers, "I'll get you another brush." Realising she had one out she grabbed it and began to motion, "Now when you're using the brush -" Zaeed rolled his eyes and huffed as he interrupted her.
"Shepard just gimme the goddamn ship."