Gas, Air and Rum:

N.J Jordbrukaren.

Chapter Eleven: Dekuuna Eyes.

"Place is a little dank for you, don't you think?"

Shepard, face smooshed into the palm of her hand, glanced towards the interruption. "Dank is good."

Jacob shrugged, taking the stool beside her. He was no introvert, but Jacob liked to be quiet. In all his years, he had learned that focus was the key, whether on the battlefield or during conversation. He gaged things well before they needed gaging. Perhaps some of Miranda's cautiousness had rubbed off on him after all. "I'm not judging. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Well, comfortable for Jacob. He wasn't sure about her. "Want some… stuff?" Shepard slid the bottle to him. Tequila. Strong stuff, too. He looked up from the bottle.

"I shouldn't." Shepard's head lulled forward, face meeting the bars surface with a slight thud. "By the looks of it, you shouldn't, either."

"You're not my mother, Taylor."

Before he could stop her, the bottle was already out of his control and back in hers. More silence. Jacob clasped his hands together atop the bar, looking every ounce the prude Shepard figured him to be. "So, what's the damage this time?"

Shepard groaned in frustration. Talking really was overrated. "Damage?"

"Yeah." Thanks, Jacob, you bitch. "I may not know you as well as Miranda does, but I know enough." Jacob paused to consider his next words. "In your books, bad missions and strong booze go together like, well… Commander Shepard and Medi-Gel."

If only Medi-Gel could fix a torn mind… Shepard sighed, taking a huge gulp straight from the bottle. "Bad missions and Commander Shepard go together quite well, too, you know?" Jacob chuckled at that. Should she be offended?

"Don't dodge the question, Shepard."

She was surprised he hadn't made it further in his Alliance career back in the day, being the hard ass that he seemed. Shepard's bloodshot eyes fell to a close as she rubbed at her temple. "You ever make mistakes?" Eyes open. She gave Jacob a once over. "Stupid question. Of course you don't."

More laughter. At least someone was enjoying themselves. "Everyone does. Even you, believe it or not."

"I believe it, alright…"

Shepard watched as Jacob wrestled with something internal. Like he didn't know whether to say something or keep it locked away. She pushed the tequila bottle his way. This time he didn't reject it.

"Brynn's pregnant, Shepard."

She guessed that blew her woes right out of the water.

"Wow. You move quickly." Shepard observed him. Jacob was still struggling. Maybe some of Miranda's cautiousness had rubbed off on her, too. "Congratulations?"

His bulky arms crossed over his form, hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I never planned for this, Shepard. Never really wanted it, never really thought about it… never really considered it an option."

"So you're… not happy about it?"

"Hard to feel happy about anything in the middle of this war," Shepard's eyes were boring into him in that way that pushed you into telling the truth. Jacob sagged. "I mean, Brynn… she's… she's-"

"-Do you love her?" She interrupted. Jacob Taylor genuinely was, for all her joking, a typical Alliance guy. He kept his inner turmoil's squared away unless shoved. Taylor was a man's man, through and though.

"Yeah?" This was not the Jacob Shepard knew. The old Jacob was certain of everything he did, every move he made. "I do, but… a baby? There's a war on. Is this the time? What if we fail? What then?"

"Thinking like that is only going to drag you down. You're better than that. Than this. I know you, too. You don't do anything unless you know it's right. Follow your gut. You've got good instincts, Jacob."

His head dropped forward, as if it were too heavy for his neck, nostrils flaring as he released a long breath of air. "Yeah, you're right. I guess the possibility of being wiped out has a way of putting things into perspective."

Well, almost. Maybe fretting over your love life was not the done thing when the galaxy's fate literally hung in the balance. Maybe. Maybe not. Ugh, her brain hurt. Shepard drank some more.

"So?"

"So…?"

Jacob grinned, shaking his head. If Commander Shepard were a book, each word would be typed in a different language – impossible to read. That was her. "I vented, now it's your turn."

Crap.

Should she? Maybe getting it off her chest would help? Maybe Jacob could help? Unlikely. He'd probably just say "Focus on the war." Like she wasn't already… Shepard played with the bottle in her hands, eyes distant. Jacob had never seen her like this. Hopefully, he'd never have to again. She was the strongest woman he knew. The strongest woman he had ever known. Seeing her so cut up was hardly a morale booster.

"I fucked up pretty bad."

"Figures."

Shepard frowned. "Thanks for the vote of confidence…"

"Not what I meant." Jacob shifted forward, resting his elbow on the bar so he could get a better look at her. "I've never seen you this shaken before, and we've been through hell… literally. If something's hitting you, making you like this, it's gotta be big." She merely nodded, more focused on peeling the label off the bottle than what he had to say. "I've got time, so talk."

"I…" Bite the bullet. "I love two people and I don't know what to do about it."

Jacob laughed. Like, actually laughed. God, his sense of humour was shockingly awful.

"Yeah, thanks for the help."

He managed to compose himself. Very barely. Wiping away his tears, catching his breath. "Sorry, Shepard. It's just… you know… you're you. I've heard the stories of Tuchanka, about the Thresher Maw and the Reaper. I heard how you got into a fist fight with the old Shadow Broker and won. How you took down Saren and Sovereign. Hell, I even saw you dead and come back to life." Jacob grabbed the tequila, having some more. "That that never phased you once, yet you're here, wringing your hands and panicking because of love, that's… well, it's certainly something."

Shepard gave a small laugh of her own. "When you put it like that…"

"Come on, then. You started it, so you have to finish. I want the details." His hand shot up, catching the bartender's attention. Soon enough, before them stood a Salarian wearing a colourful poncho and a sombrero… somehow. "Another bottle and two shot glasses."

"You planning on drinking me under the table?" Shepard smirked.

"No, I plan on kicking your ass to the curb." The Salarian returned. Went beyond the call of duty with added salt shakers and chopped limes. He stood on standby. Jacob poured two shots. "But, not before you tell me about this little triangle of yours."

"You're on, Taylor."

Many hours later…

Shepard was perched on top of the bar, guitar in hand, absolutely trashed out of her mind.

"-Am I in too deep? Have I lost my mind?

I don't care. You're here tonight.

I can be your hero, baby!

I can kiss away the pain! Oh, yeah…"

Shepard stroked the sombrero toting Salarian's face, index finger lingering upon his lips before returning to the borrowed guitar.

"I will stand by you forever.

You can take… my breath away."

Somewhere along the way, a crowd had gathered, and now, they were all applauding her. Even Jacob.

"Genuine enthusiasm: Encore!"

"Alright-" Shepard blinked a few times. Things were becoming blurry. Perhaps she was working too hard. "-This one," She pointed to the big grey lump of Elcor in the far corner. "Is for you, my four legged friend."

"Black… Dekuuna eyes,

Teardrops are falling from your Dekuuna eyes,

Please, please don't cry,

This is just goodbye and not 'deep sadness: I hope to meet you again someday'-"

"This one would recognise its face anywhere!"

"Crap." Shepard dropped the guitar. "Speaking of goodbyes…" She leapt over the bar, grabbing Jacob as she went. He knew not to question her motives. Not unless he wanted to die.

The pair of them bolted from the only Mexican themed bar on the Citadel, hopping into the nearest cab they could find. "Want to tell me what that was all about?" Jacob felt proud. He only slurred a little.

The cab had been programmed and set to auto-pilot. And just in the nick of time. As it took off, the Hanar came floating over. Shepard fell back into her seat with a relieved sigh. If this war didn't kill her, that Hanar certainly would.

"I may or may not have destroyed his shop…"

"I shouldn't have asked." Both of their tequila soaked reactions were slow. Jacob glanced around the cab, taking in his surroundings. "Where we going, anyway?"

"I don't know. I pressed for the first location that came up."

Jacob, with great effort stretched forward enough to make out the text. Had it always been this blurry, or was it just him? No. It can't have been him. Jacob grinned to himself. I'm perfect. "Sh-Sh-Sh- the Consorts Chambers?" He plopped back heavily with a groan. "Shep, I think you're great, but we are not going to see an asari prostitute together…"

"Sha'ira isn't a prostitute!"

"Pfft, whatever."

They didn't fall silent on purpose. Drunken Jacob's brain took a lot of concentration to work correctly. Drunken Shepard was much the same. They were both thinking. Jacob beat her to it.

"What're you gonna do, huh?"

"About what?"

"Your lady troubles."

Shepard shrugged, struggling to keep her eyes open. "I don't know."

"Right, close your eyes."

"They're already closed."

"Oh." Jacob chuckled. "I'm going to punch you-"

Both of her eyes were well and truly open now. "What? Why?"

His hands shot up in a pacifying gesture. Luckily, she heeded. "Wait, wait! Get this, I'm gonna punch you. First girl you think of afterwards, I'll program this thing to take you to them. Deal?"

Shepard rolled her eyes. "That's a terrible idea."

He reached his hand out. "Deal?"

A moment of contemplation. Though, Shepard didn't contemplate very much at all. Other than whether or not the skycar was spinning or if it was just her. She refocused, staring at him as best she could. "Fine," They shook hands. "Deal."

"Okay, okay. Close your eyes."

She was reluctant, but trust won out. Shepard did as ordered.

And she had been right the first time, this had been a terrible idea. Now she had a bloody nose to prove it.

"You punched my face!" His shrug made her gawk. "My face!"

"Where else was I supposed to punch you?"

"Oh, I don't know- my arm, maybe?"

Realisation washed over Jacob. "Ah… that might have been a better idea…. My bad."

Shepard clutched at her nose, trying to quell the flow of blood. "You think?!"

"So?"

"Is that your favourite question today?"

He ignored her sarcasm. "Did it work? Who'd you think of?"

Despite the playful atmosphere they had going here, this was quite an important decision. Not one she should be making whilst she was as drunk as she was right now. But it was too late for that. She told him.

"Alright, now we're cooking with gas!" His fingers zipped over the interface, turning the skycar in the other direction. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"