Perspective 14

Ashley paused her video. She lay in her hospital bed, holding the datapad in her hands, and staring blankly at the frozen image the same way she had done so many times in Vancouver before the attack. It was one of the interrogation interviews. Commander Shepard, as unkempt as she had ever seen him, was glaring past the camera, his look full of impatience and distain for the Alliance therapist and the very organization the man worked for.

The picture Udina had given her was stowed away in the top drawer of her bedside cabinet. She couldn't bear to look at it, the evidence of his betrayal. How could he have just turned like that? Udina had said that the Lawson woman was a good speaker, but so was Shepard! Ashley had seen it person time and time again, convincing people to do what he wanted, usually saving their lives and dignity in the process. Surely he would be able to recognize when someone was plying him with those same persuasive powers. He wouldn't just roll over that easily. He wouldn't get that twisted up. Not Shepard. Not the Skipper. The explanation which made the most sense to Ashley was that from the start, he had never been the Skipper. He had used them all. He had always been a Cerberus lackey, playing the entire Alliance command like a pack of fools. Even playing Ashley herself…

Despite the fact that it accounted for the most variables, she despised that thought. Many little details never quite added up. Shepard's pursuit of Cerberus on behalf of Admiral Kahoku was still an enigma. Why would he hurt his own organization? Though come to think of it, breaking those cells wide open apparently hadn't done much real damage at all, had it? Cerberus had come out of it none the worse for wear? Had that merely been a red herring? Was it merrely something to throw her, and the rest of the Alliance off the scent?

Whenever she considered this option, sooner or later all of her concerns always ended up riding second seat to one burning question: How could she, Ashley Williams, have fallen for a Cerberus agent? Ashley had always thought she would be able to recognize the traitors. That she would be smarter than them. Her father had always said that her 'Bullshit Sniffer' as he called it, would be the pride of the Marine Corps. She had always seen herself as the one who could call others out. How had Shepard passed so neatly under her radar? And why? What purpose was there to be served by seducing her? By hurting her like this?

The only explanation for that was that it was a part of some sadistic, self-indulgent symbolic gesture at the entire Alliance, much like the teasing note in Miranda Lawson's file. Dupe the Alliance, fuck the Alliance by doing both to their most steadfast supporter on his ship. How many hours had Shepard spent with Lawson, laughing at Ashley's stupidity? Laughing at the entire Alliance? They had handed their best ship, all of their praise, and all of their resources to a damned Cerberus agent! He had taken it all, even Ashley, used it and her, and dropped it all by the wayside when he was done. Had it been a Cerberus ship which had blown up the Normandy? Had Shepard planned the whole thing as part of some elaborate scheme to extract himself from his deep cover persona? Had he simply gotten tired of Ashley, and wanted to escape and run back to the arms of Miranda Lawson? How long had they been lov – close?

Ashley heard her door open, and looked up, expecting to see Udina's sullen visage. Her heart froze. Shepard was standing in the doorway, examining her with a look of genuine concern. He was clean-shaven once again, his hair trimmed in a short and neat fashion. Instead of an Alliance uniform, he was wearing a rather smart leather jacket with the N7 logo on the breast, and his signature red stripes down the sleeves. A pair of well-fitted jeans and nicely-shined dress shoes completed the image of a man on shore leave, looking to relax.

"Hey Ashley…" he said carefully.

She didn't answer. She was too busy biting back the hundred or so accusations which were fighting to find a way out. She was still having trouble fitting the man standing before her with the Cerberus agent image which Udina had carefully and effectively illustrated.

Despite her rather cold reaction, he moved further into the room, grabbing a chair by the door as he went.

"How are you doing?" he asked, crossing the smooth hospital floor and taking a seat beside her cot.

She shrugged, still searching his face for some semblance of the Skipper. "Alright, I guess."

Ashley had to admit, it looked as though he had made a serious effort to clean himself up a little. Though he wasn't entirely the same man, he certainly looked much closer. She could barely make out echoes of the orange network of scars. His eyes were back to their natural blue. The same color which had drawn her in from the start. The hair was different, and there were more lines on his face, but aside from those details...

She could detect an undercurrent of frustration and exhaustion in his tone, though that could have easily have been attributed to the war. One striking change, now that she saw him without a beard, was the change in his scars. Not the orange evidence of his supposed resurrection, if that was actually what happened, but his own scars. He had acquired a few from his heroics on Elysium; one across his chin, and another rather rough burn on his left cheek. Both had vanished, to be replaced by a pale thin scar on his right cheek, and a small cut across his eyebrow. It was yet another reminder of Cerberus' tampering.

"Alright…" Shepard rubbed his forehead, sensing her hesitancy. "Look, I know that on Mars I wasn't exactly… friendly. I wasn't cooperative. I wasn't acting like myself."

"Really?" she said sarcastically, unable to resist.

The man sighed. "I was frustrated and stressed out, Ash. I spent so much time trying to prevent this war from happening. I was rude to you. I know that, and I'm sorry. I said I'd explain everything when I had time. We had to head back to the citadel to get resupplied anyway… I figured that if you were up for it, now's as good a time to talk as we're going to get for a little while."

"I wasn't sure you wanted to. You were pretty clear on Mars about where things stood."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you're clearly not a fan of the Alliance anymore! Why are you working with us?"

"This again?" the man asked impatiently. "Ash…"

"Don't." she muttered, flinching. "Don't call me that. Why do you care, Shepard? Why are you here?"

"Because I don't want to leave things between us in such a bad state." Shepard said. "I acted wrongly and I wanted to apologize. You know? Mend fences and all that. I have enough enemies as it is."

Ashley studied him carefully. "And you're not with Cerberus anymore either."

"It's the truth." He said earnestly.

Ashley tried to keep her face blank, but inside her head, all she could see was that damned picture and the fire in his eyes which didn't burn for her. She said, "Did you really cut all ties?"

"Yes." His face was blank, innocent.

LIAR! She wanted to shout it. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to pick up her pillow or the nearest blunt object and hit him with it until he confessed. But she didn't. She wasn't sure what would happen if she called him out. Between his Spectre status, and his political clout, he could easily end her life and walk out of that room without anyone saying a damned thing. She had to help Udina get to the truth. Expose him to the galaxy as a traitor, or whatever he actually was. That was a better victory, and a smarter way to play the game. It was better for the Alliance.

Ashley wasn't sure whether he sensed that she didn't believe him, or whether his own guilt was coming into play, but his face darkened, and he made the choice to elaborate. "And no. Not completely. A lot's happened, Ash."

"What happened, exactly?" she asked.

He winced. "I…can't give you any details. It'll only make things more complicated."

I'll bet you can't.

"I want to be clear, though: We can't be the way we were before, but I'd like to work this out."

"I'm surprised."

"Why?"

"Thought you'd moved on." She said, staring straight ahead at the wall. God damn it! She wasn't built for this! All the lying and trying to tiptoe around… she was a soldier, and this wasn't worth the anguish it was causing her. She said, "Miranda Lawson? Ring a bell?"

Shepard turned white. He sat back in his seat, dumbstruck. She felt delicious satisfaction, and couldn't help but show a triumphant smirk. The man looked terrified. He seemed to be having a little trouble finding his voice.

"Where…where did you hear that name?"

"Don't worry, Skipper. Everyone knows about you and you're new girlfriend. I guess dating an Alliance marine wasn't quite exciting enough, hmm? Moved onto a Cerberus Operative?"

Shepard rose to his feet, growing hard and cold as ice. "You walked away on Horizon. Not me. You made it crystal clear you were done with me! You don't get to be bitter about the fact that I moved on. Now, where did you hear that name?"

Ashley crossed her arms defiantly.

"This is important, Ash. I know to you, telling me you know her name is all some complicated way to get back at me, but it could mean her life! You can't possibly be that petty!"

"She's a Cerberus agent, Skipper. Should I care about her life?"

"I care about her. Surely to god, I've built up enough goodwill when we were hunting Saren that you can at least not get her killed…" He read her cold glare correctly, and responded with a look of impatience. "…except that suddenly I'm a Cerberus agent too, aren't I…?"

They stared at eachother.

"I have other means to find out, Ash. I know a rather good information broker. I came here to try and build up some trust between us."

"Maybe you shouldn't have lost it in the first place. Maybe you shouldn't have joined Cerberus."

"I worked with them. 'With', Ash. Not 'For'! Do you understand the distinction?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm some kid!" she shouted.

"Then grow up!" he shouted back. "You're being childish and it's going ot get her killed! I can't have that. I love her, Ash." That hurt, and the bastard knew it, but he kept talking anyway. "And if it means her life, if it's her or you, then I already..." He died off into silence, but he didn't need to finish his statement.

"Her or me? That easy, huh?" she said acidly, anger and bitterness overwhelmed her.

"As easy as it was on Virmire."

That hurt even more. "Fuck you!"

"I don't want it to come to that. I'd much rather you got killed by the enemy, to be honest. Fighting to save lives and do the right thing. That's what you deserve."

"I deserve to die?"

"You deserve to be a soldier!" he replied evenly. "Doing exactly what you signed on to do. All this intelligence/counter-intelligence stuff, spy stuff? That isn't you, Ash. And it wasn't me either. Our enemies are on the battlefield, where we can see them clear as day, and we need all the help we can get. We need you. I don't, but we do."

"That's what Lawson's into." Ashley said. "Spy stuff. Up to her fucking neck."

"Further than that." He admitted. "Way over her head, but she taught me a lot."

"I'll bet she did."

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What would it take, Ashley? The Normandy could use you. The front line needs all the best our galaxy has, and that includes you. If we're going to work together, we need to trust eachother. Even if we aren't together any more, what would it take to close this gap?"

"Turn her in."

"No!"

"Well then I'm sorry, skipper. But I can't trust you."

"I can't trust the Alliance, Ash. The Illusive Man has agents with them. He'd kill her off the moment she stepped into a holding cell. If she gets caught by anyone, she's dead. I can't… I can't do that. She's safer on her own, where she's in control of her own security. She was one of them for years, and she knows how they operate. She can evade them."

"Where is she now?"

"I don't know, and even if I did…"

"You don't trust me any more than I trust you." She said bitterly. "Guess this is going to be an uphill battle, hmm? is it really worth fighting, skipper?"

They fell into a long, uncomfortable silence. At last, Shepard rose to his feet. His voice was hollow and deadened. "I can see this was a waste of time. I wish the best for you, Lieutenant Williams. Despite what you must think…" Without meeting her eyes, he turned away from her and headed towards the door.

"Shepard." She said, regretting the argument in a moment of weakness.

He turned back, looking more worn-down and weathered than he did when he had walked in. His tired blue eyes met hers with an alarming indifference.

"How's the fight going?" she asked.

"Mission details are classified, Williams." He said, still talking in that monotone. "That's an Alliance rule."

"But…?" she prompted.

"But what? It's the Reapers, Ash. Take a guess."

"Commander, what can I do for you?"

The standard opening line. Miranda always said that, maintained the professional front. It had taken a little while for him to realize that while onboard the ship, she let him signal when he was visiting for non-official reasons. She hadn't yet come up to the loft, and he suspected that she was worried about their surreptitious rendezvous' being discovered by the other crew members. Garrus and Mordin already knew. Samara did as well, somehow. The Justicar had never said a word on the subject, but John could tell by the gentle merriment she had held in her gaze when she had observed him looking rather unkempt, trying to sneak out of Miranda's office.

"Actually I was looking for a status report." He said as her door slid shut behind him. He could feel the weight of her present burning a hole in his side pocket." And I was wondering if the engineering reports had been handed in yet." That much was absolutely true. Tali had mentioned a few discrepancies during one of his rounds, and he trusted Miranda to know whether it was worth worrying about. He was fairly sure that she had a hand in designing the Normandy's engines, anyway. He trusted Tali as well, but also knew that if the Quarian hadn't thought it important, she would not have told him to begin with. He both wanted, and appreciated the second opinion. Miranda 's contributions were often quite insightful, offering explanations and solutions outside the thought processes of the engineering department.

Miranda sat back in her chair, her tone clipped and neat. "The engines are operating at optimal functionality. The discrepancy was an isolated event caused by a tech burst in Mordin's lab. He blew a breaker trying to upgrade Garrus' Omni-tool, and the electromagnetic wave was powerful enough to throw off one of the gravimetric plates. It has already been recalibrated and I'll have Mister Donnelly and Sergeant Gardner put up extra shielding between Mordin's lab and the drive core."

Shepard nodded, standing quite still as he built up a small amount of courage.

Bemused, she asked, "Was there something else, Commander?"

"Yeah." He reached carefully into his pocket and pulled out The Present. It was a flattened oblong object, brushed steel. It was around eight inches across with a seam running up the center. Miranda frowned, watching it cautiously as he reached over her computer screen and set it down on her desk.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Open it!" he prompted, trying to minimize his own excitement.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow, but obeyed, pulling it apart at the seam. The two halves slid apart to reveal the full-length holographic piano keyboard interface. Her jaw dropped, and Shepard took a fair mount of pleasure in the fact. It wasn't often that Miranda Lawson looked stunned beyond her wits.

"I remember you telling me you used to take Piano lessons. And you talked about how much you enjoyed playing it." he said as she stared down at the orange and blue keys. "I figured if you wanted to take it up again…"

She still hadn't said a word, but she raised her left hand and gave one of the flat keys an experimental tap. A C-note rang throughout her cabin, sounding clear as a bell, at least until she rushed to find the volume control.

"If it's not a good gift, I can always return it." he added quickly, trying to put her at ease.

"No!" she said, equally as quickly. She was still watching the keyboard with a blank expression on her face. "No. I just… I…I don't know what to do." She admitted quietly.

Despite himself, John couldn't help but grin. He held a theatrical hand to his ear. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that? For posterity, I mean?"

"Ass."

His grin widened. "Hang on. I think my Omni-tool can record-"

"Shepard, please!" she beseeched. He relented, understanding how momentous a thing it was that she was willing to admit what he knew she saw as a horrible failing; the fact that she for once was at a loss.

"I don't know whether or not I want to play it." she said, laying her hands across the holographic surface. Her fingertips seemed to gravitate to all the proper keys, as if the memories were returning with the feather-light touch. "There are a lot of bad memories attached to both that instrument, and the lessons."

"I don't doubt it. Maybe this'll help you replace them with some better ones." He suggested.

"I hope so. The other problem is… you."

"Me?" he said, suddenly worried

"Don't be offended or anything. I never really got gifts. Well… nothing without strings attached at any rate. I don't quite know how to… handle it."

John suppressed a laugh. "Well… what do you think all the non-perfect people do?"

"They say thank you." She told him, almost immediately. Her tone was one of almost comedic dead seriousness.

"So why don't you start there?" once again, that grin tried to force its way through. "Though it had better be a perfect 'thank you'."

Miranda raised an eyebrow and met his gaze. Her slender, perfect fingers slid off the keyboard as she rose to her feet. She stepped daintily around the edge of the desk and slid her arms around his shoulders. Moments later those same perfect fingers were running through his short, trimmed hair as she pulled him into a passionate kiss. His hands slid around her waist, the tip of his fingers passing across the top of her shapely behind. She broke away and laid her head on his shoulder as they pulled each other closer into a tight embrace.

"Good enough?" she whispered.

"Awful. It wasn't nearly long enough." Shepard answered. He immediately felt a stinging pain as she flicked his ear, though they both laughed. He gave her a gentle squeeze, relishing the taste of her mouth. She had been at Gardner's fruit salad again. Over her shoulder, he searched her desk for the bowl which was poorly hidden behind a small pile of data pads.

Shepard said, "My parents tried to get me to play the guitar when I was a kid. Never had the gumption to practice, but still."

"Well I'll practice this." She promised.

"Can I listen?"

She snorted. "What is the bloody point of that? Wait until I have a piece properly prepared for you."

"Maybe I just want to hear you play."

"And if I sound horrible because I haven't played it in years?"

"That's not the important part, Miranda."

"I know." She let go of him and drew away, collecting herself and straightening her uniform. "Alright. Sit down and listen then, if you must."

She took a seat back at her desk and examined the holographic keyboard, turning down the volume so that no sound would escape her office. Then she laid her fingers across the keys, brow furrowed in concentration. She stayed fixed like that for about twenty seconds, then she looked back up at him.

"It's been nearly twenty years…"

"Just play, Miranda."

She chose a simplified version of Beethoven's moonlight sonata, and didn't miss a beat.

It's been a little while since we had some Shep/Miri. Thought I'd throw in another flashback.

I hope the dialogue between Shepard and Ashley played out as realistically as you were expecting it to.

To be honest, I started this story intending it to be a high-quality Ash bash, but somewhere along the way, it turned into a redemption fic instead. This is probably not news to any of the Ashley fans out there, but Miri fan's usually don't have any more respect for Ashley Williams than Tali fans have for Miranda Lawson.

I'm hoping this story will help justify a lot of her erratic behavior in-game, and add an extra dimension to her character.

Btw, I don't recommend stories very often, but there's one out there called "What the Future Brings" by a user named .bcg. I believe it is the best post-war Shep/Miri fic out there. Not a lot of heavy action, its true. However it contains some of the best characterization for our fandom not only for Miranda, but for Shepard as well. Really high-quality stuff, and it's updated reliably once every week or two. Go take a look if you haven't yet. Believe me, you won't regret it.