A/N: Sorry for the delay. Writer's block sucks. Thank you for sticking around to finish this with me ~STP
"How long has it been since you've slept?"
Commander Shepard smiled into her tulip shaped glass before sipping the whiskey. The liquid amber burned going down her throat and back up her neck. She caught Miranda's reflection in the mirror. "Flawless" was the word that always came to mind. While everyone else looked haggard from the extensive battles, Miranda portrayed classic poise and beauty, even with the evidence of combat on her skin. Her ebony hair was pulled up, allowing full access to her elegant jawline, naturally flowing into the sumptuous curve of her shoulders and chest, which was presently uncharacteristically concealed in an over-sized sweat shirt she found in the in the ship's storage bins. Casual black khakis snugly gripped the ample hips of the curvaceous beauty and were tucked in to her combat boots.
Eventually Shepard turned back to her drink. "What are you talking about?" She felt Miranda's unflinching glare burning the back of her head. "In case you haven't noticed, we just saved the universe and are now trying to have a well deserved party. And Kasumi has been kind enough to open up her quarters to have some fun. Lighten up Lawson. I order you off duty."
Miranda frowned and sat down beside her at the bar, "Sam, how long?"
"To be fair, I have had thousands of species trying to kill me for years, so I've kind of had a lot on my mind." Miranda continued to scowl. "Look doctor, just because you had unprecedented access to my body, which some would say is a magnificent holy work of art, so thanks for that by the way, it doesn't give permission to guard your handiwork so jealously."
Miranda's eyes flickered like a torch had passed on front of them. She removed the glass from Shepard's hand and placed it out of her reach, "How long?"
Shepard thought about lying, avoiding, and even getting angry. But what was the point? Dr. Lawson knew her body better than she did. "Honestly? I don't remember."
"Jesus, Shepard. No wonder you physical scans are so confusing. Why didn't you tell me? Bio-genetics can only hold off mother nature for so long, especially under as much stress as you have."
"I know."
"You are careless and reckless, and that is bad enough, but to deplete your body of the basic needs for life..."
"I know."
Miranda held up the bottle of whiskey that was only half full, "And all this the alcohol you consume... is this why you drink so much? To help you sleep?"
"It is one reason. Yes."
"What century do you live in Shepard? Chakwas or I could easily provide you a sedative..."
Shepard clenched her jaw and whispered, "It won't stop them."
If Miranda heard her, she ignored her, "...that can make sure you get at least the minimal amount of sleep. We all have been on high alert, but we have a reprieve now that..."
"It won't stop them!" Shepard slammed her fist onto the bar, dark energy evaporating from her fist as quickly as it appeared.
Everyone in the room took a moment to check out the surprise commotion from the bar, but after seeing Miranda and Shepard in deep discussion, they continued with their own conversations, no longer surprised by the reaction between the two.
Shepard squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to push back the shrieking visions. "I'm sorry, Lawson. It's just that I have lived with these nightmares for so long ... and the more stressful the battles are, the more potent they become; and no matter what I do to avoid them, they will not be denied. Alcohol, sedatives, concussions, it doesn't matter. When my consciousness turns off, they come alive. Bodies burning. Children screaming. Flesh being ripped off. Death everywhere. Safety no where.
"When I first started having the Prothean visions, I could neither sleep nor keep down food. Chakwas tried every sedative in the medbay, but the terrors came anyway. I would awaken camo'd up under my bunk, cradling a loaded assault rifle in my arms. Screams filled my sleep pod - sometimes from the Protheans, but mostly from me. Eventually I found ways to stay awake: extra duty, suicide missions (also known as carelessness to you) or keeping Joker company during the night. On the outside it seemed to everyone that I was "getting over it." But after the cipher, I was living it, and just like with my father, I couldn't do a damn thing about it. Ironic, isn't it, that the reapers are most responsible for creating the Hero of the Citadel and the bane of their existence. All because Samantha Shepard has overactive PTSD.
"So take it from me, Lawson, I know better than anyone that I need sleep. I am so fucking tired that I beg for sleep. The only hope I have is that after the reapers are stopped, their grip on my subconscious will end," Shepard chortled, "like a fairy tale curse being lifted. Otherwise the Hero of the Citadel will be buried on the Citadel with a self inflicted gunshot wound to the head."
"Shepard," Miranda stammered for something to say. Even with a genius I.Q., genuine human compassion still eluded her. "...I am sorry. I had no idea... Has anything worked in the past?"
"Liara."
Miranda looked at the floor, "Oh yes."
"Liara was my very own dream-catcher. Even before we joined, she somehow spoke peace into my mind. The raging visions and dreams slowed. Not completely. But it was better. I could actually get some good rest. And if she was with me when they did start, she could gently enter my mind, find me in the midst of the madness, and guide me back." Shepard fetched her glass and swirled the contents. "And now that Liara is gone... well they are worse. I enter the dream always running from something or someone, but always from Death. Protheans and people I know and love are in the dream. I try to convince them to run with me but they just melt under my touch. My enemy never appears but I can feel them. Liara is in front of me smiling but she is not alive. She tries to tell me that she knows the truth, that the reapers have shown her the way. Black liquid appears on her shirt above her chest. I run to her, but a reaper gets her first. I struggle with a decision to leave her or join her. Either way, a tortuous hell." Shepard finally gulped the remnants of her drink, more in a symbolic attempt to swallow her fear than to hope for sleep.
Miranda found the courage to tightly grip Shepard's forearm before whispering, "I am sorry. You have sacrificed so much... Shepard... thank you." The Commander finally looked deeply into her ice blue eyes and she felt her cheeks blush when she heard herself say, "Maybe it is time you find yourself a new dream-catcher."
Shepard placed Miranda's hand in both of hers and leaned in to whisper into her ear, "As it turns out, I was thinking the very same thing." Her breath quickened when Shepard stood from her seat, but stopped completely when she realized the cocky grin was not for her. Shepard was tracking someone exiting the room. "Thank you for your concern. Please excuse me."
"Of course Commander," Miranda whispered to Shepard's shrinking back. Slowly she poured out her full glass of Thessian wine, which had suddenly lost its flavor. "The most perfect human in every way but one: no asari DNA," Miranda whispered to the whiskey bottle as she poured herself a generous serving.
"I killed twelve of your guards."
Aria sarcastically smiles up at me from her opulent couch. "Pity. most of them were useful." She sighs, "But either way they were dead. If they would have fled from you instead of fought you, I would have killed them. Albeit much less mercifully than you."
Silence.
Aria sips her wine.
Silence.
"Mirala is dead."
"She is my youngest daughter, bound to me as much as her other parent. I knew the moment she stopped breathing."
Silence.
A guard uncomfortably shifts in a shadowy corner.
Silence.
"You never returned to Thessia."
"You never returned to Omega."
"Aria, if I had..."
Silence
Aria stands and waves her arm in a frustrated arc, "So this is our existence? We continue repelling each other from opposite ends of the galaxy?"
Silence.
"Are you here to kill me? Or are you here for me to kill you?" Aria looks sadistically amused, or bored, or... already dead.
"I am still bound by my Code to assist Commander Shepard finish her mission."
"Your code has a tendency to destroy people. Let's hope this time your Code actually saves lives," Aria scoffs.
Thousands of words should be said. Need to be said. Yet none are spoken.
"When my oath is completed, I may consider visiting our daughters. In the temple, all titles and history are erased."
"If your oath is completed, everyone in the universe … maybe even me ... will have an opportunity to reconsider their choices. Do you think the temple can erase the titles of Pirate Queen or Mighty Justicar?"
Silence.
Hundreds of years apart and we are still professionals at this dance. I lead she follows. Turn. She leads I follow.
As I leave the court of the Queen, she turns her attention to the lone guard, "Pity. You were useful."
'For centuries I have buried every emotion, every need, to fulfill my quest. And now it is done. Even my oath to Shepard is done. Truthfully I never thought I would survive long enough to see it through. What remains? What (or who) replaces the emptiness I now feel? Can a Justicar find happiness again?' Samara stood in front of the window, her weight on one leg, subconsciously rolling the wine glass back and forth across her right thigh while the other hand trailed down her neck and in between her breasts.
"Enter," Samara answered the door chime, but never moved from her stationary position. Soon the visitor's reflection appeared over her shoulder. "Commander Shepard, what can I do for you?"
A mischievous smile hinted in the corner of the her mouth, "I hope you don't mind my intrusion. I think it's time we finished our conversation from the reaper."
"I almost killed you on the reaper," Samara swallowed the remainder of her blood-red wine.
Shepard's eyebrows shot up, "But The Code..."
"I said almost." Samara turned to face her.
"Fair enough. Thank you then for almost killing me on the reaper. You saved the mission. You saved me. Again."
"Say what you need to say, Commander. I need no company tonight," Samara's icy tone matched the color of her skin.
"Well as it turns out, I do," Shepard's eyes sparkled. "Looks like I came just in time. Would you like a refill?" A bottle appeared from behind her back and she reached for her empty wine glass. "Kasumi tells me that Thessian wine is the only beverage other than water that you will consume."
"The thief is good at her job. But please remind her that so am I." Reluctantly Samara released her grip. "Yes, it seems I am in need of a refill." As Shepard refilled her glass, the exotic scent unlocked yet another memory of her life centuries ago.
"I did not pay the owner of Afterlife my last cred to be swindled. If you do not return with 5, no 15, of your best vintages of Thessian wine, I will go up there myself and bloody the walls with the entire VIP section!" The turian only squeaked a response when Aria released her from the newly minted imprint her body caused after being propelled into the wall. Right before the servant reached the door the maiden yelled, "And one last message for all of you. DO NOT FUCK WITH ARIA!" After the door finally closed, the two remaining occupants collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"Was that impressive?" Aria asks in between gasps of air.
I take my young lover into a strong embrace, "Very, my love. Since when did you acquire such a nasty temper?"
"I guess it is due to the company in which I've been keeping." Aria nuzzles my neck with her crest.
"Just one question. Can I fuck with Aria?" I pick her up and begin walking to the bed. She wraps her legs around me and I can feel the remnants of her temper in her quickened pulse.
"Samara, I would be deeply offended if you did not."
3 hours later, and early into the next solar day, Samara and Shepard sat on the floor with their backs pressed against the couch, facing the beautiful nothingness of space. Shepard had her elbow propped on the seat of the couch running her hand through her hair. Likewise in an unconscious motion, Samara trailed her finger around the rim of the glass, in the same graceful motion displayed from Morinth, which now seemed like it had occurred decades ago.
"How did you know that calling me a coward would work?" She glanced at Samara from the corner of her eye.
"I didn't," Samara filled her glass with the remaining wine from the third bottle. "Quite frankly I did not care what you thought. I have only been as angry a handful of times."
"Leave it to me to piss off the pernicious Justicar," Shepard threw back her head and laughed. "But it makes sense. I think it was your barely contained rage that finally snapped me out of my madness. Now that I look back on it, your face was more scary than the collectors." Shepard let her head rest in her hand before continuing, "You know I didn't come her tonight just to ask your pardon for my arrogance and carelessness."
"I know."
"And yet you let me in and let me stay?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Finally the matriarch turned to look at Shepard, "I never thought that someone so young could touch me, could cause such reactions from my mind and body. Meditation on The Code provided me a great deal of self-control during difficult emotional occurrences. It has kept me safe. It has kept me disciplined, focused. It has kept me..."
"Beautiful," Shepard was looking straight at her.
How could she have allowed it to get this far? The desire in Shepard's eyes was burning, tempting her long dormant passions to the surface. 'Why not?', she asked herself.
"Samara, I am very attracted to you. To your strength, your beauty," her eyes ate up the asari's dignified profile, "everything."
Samara sighed, "Shepard, we must put the thought from our minds."
"Let's stop pretending we don't feel this. You've kept tight control for a long time. But you still have needs, Samara."
A dangerous smiled curled blue lips, "I have the strength to withstand my own drives, Shepard." The tint of her eyes began to darken.
Somehow Shepard's hand began tracing the outline of Samara's neck while never breaking eye contact. "You don't have to. The galaxy won't end if you find a little happiness."
"I am flattered by your persistence. If I were a maiden, I would drag you to the floor right now. But I am not a maiden and sex without emotion doesn't interest me."
Months of sexual tension arced between them as warm words whispered against Samara's cheek, "You and I both know this would not be without emotion. You have allowed me access to your secret places. I want entrance to more." A calloused hand caressed light blue skin. "My mission is over. Your oath is fulfilled." Shepard licked her lips with anticipation. "I want this, Samara. I want you."
Her touch was gentle and intimate, and more powerful than any enemy she had faced in centuries of battle. Slowly Samara's control began to show hairline fractures, allowing long hidden desires to seep through her protective walls. "You are different from anyone I've met. I think I could find more than happiness with you."
The kiss confirmed the desire was mutual. Both were lost in the tumbling of emotions, simultaneously drawn to each other by an unavoidable gravitational pull. The Justicar and The Hero were transported light years away from their past, beyond the present, alighting in the "what-could-be". Their mouths and hands explored skin, lips, and each other. Their desires blazed like pulsating solar flares. Slowly Samara pulled Shepard into a gentle mind connection and Shepard hesitated only momentarily. Both smiled when they realized they were seeing the same type of lustful images. Deeper they attached. Samara had not felt this eager since ... Aria.
Shepard's body reacted to Samara's touch immediately. Want bypassed reason, and instinct took over her movements. Intuitively she knew where to touch the asari, how to respond to the asari.
No. It wasn't instinct. It was learned from... Liara.
Having both touched the sacred place reserved for another, they quickly separated at the same time. The look on Shepard's face mirrored the emotions slipping from Samara's heart. Shepard's stubbornness tried to push guilt out of the way, and she leaned in to kiss Samara once more, but the matriarch stopped her by placing a hand on her chest, "You must put this thought from your mind."
"Samara I want you. I know you feel the same."
"Shepard, it is true that you want an asari – but it is not this asari." If Shepard could have found words to argue, if she would have attempted to deny it, perhaps Samara would have found a way to believe her. But it was no use. The truth poured over Shepard like cold water. Their eyes lingered only a few minutes until finally Samara looked away, "Excuse me." Samara exited, leaving Shepard alone with only black expanse of space.
When Samara returned to her quarters several hours later, she was not completely surprised to find Shepard where she left her. The only difference was that she was now hugging her legs to her chest. Silently Samara descended next to her, allowing the Commander to wrestle her thoughts.
Silence.
"I lost her, Samara. Damn all the accolades. Damn all the wars and medals. Damn everything. I lost her." Silent tears fell from sorrowful jade eyes.
"She is lost to you because she is lost to herself, Sam," Samara reasoned. "Are you familiar with the drell term 'disconnected'?"
"Yes. Thane described it to me as when the soul is weakened by grief, fear or despair; or when the body is ill or injured. The person is no longer whole."
"She is disconnected, wounded, but not beyond repair."
"I hope she finds happiness again," Shepard said, still hugging her knees.
Samara sighed, "For all your subtleties, Shepard, you lack wisdom." She waved her hand toward space, "Perhaps it is due to the young age of your species." Innocently the younger woman gazed up at her. "You are an amazing warrior, Commander. When you have an objective, nothing can deter you from the desired outcome. Your tactics are brilliant, and your improvisations are quite astonishing. I have seen you stare down krogan battlemasters, single-handily attack a geth colossus, spearhead into a sea of husks, and blow up the collector's base."
"But those situations are what I am trained for."
"Who is trained in love, Shepard?"
"What are you saying?"
"I am saying nothing if you are not listening."
Silence.
"I will need to go alone."
Samara nodded.
"Jack won't like that."
Samara shook her head.
"Will you..."
Samara nodded.
Silence.
"What will you do now?"
"I am a Justicar. There is only The Code."
"Your oath is fulfilled. Why do you keep helping me?"
"I am a servant of the Justicar Code, Shepard, sworn to help the innocent... even if it is from themselves."
Commander Shepard exited from the elevator on the CIC deck in full military armor with two pistols attached to either thigh. "How long to Hegalaz, EDI?"
"ETA 15 minutes," the AI appeared at the CIC console.
"Begin decontamination and attachment procedures." The Justicar exited on Shepard's heels and followed her toward the decontamination chamber. Jack looked up from her whispered conversation with Kelly, grabbed her Koplov from the handrail, and fell in behind the pair. Shepard exchanged nods with Samara before the doors closed behind her. Jack quizzically paused. Frustrated at the Justicar's slow movements, she tried to move around her, only to find a firm blue hand upon her chest.
Jack looked the asari up and down, "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Shepard is to go alone," Samara offered no inflection.
Jack wrapped her hand around the wrist of the Justicar and a blue halo appeared around her body. "You know that's not how it works. I am her six."
"Not on this trip, Jack." The Justicar never moved or flinched. A few crewmembers began queuing up in the background.
Dark energy roiled down the convicts arms, "Move or I will move you."
"Your threats are pointless," the Justicar paused, "she is to go alone." Jack felt the dull force of powerful energy pushing her backwards against her will. Try as she might, she could not summon enough strength to counter the powerful biotic.
"Jack, I'm sure Shepard doesn't need a bodyguard to go talk to her girlfriend," Tali giggled from across the CIC.
"Shepard. It is good to see you," Liara said as she turned from the massive computer terminal to face her guest. "I have made some quick repairs to the ship, but mostly have concentrated my efforts in disseminating the endless amounts of data accumulated over thousands of years. It may take a minute to put some information together to give you, so feel free to explore the area."
"Liara, I'm not here for pleasantries. I've been commanded to destroy this base. You and Feron will be safely transported wherever you wish."
"Shepard, this is no time for joking." Liara kept her attention focused on the terminals in front of her. The computer exploding instinctively dropped Liara to her knees.
"Liara, I assure you this is no joke." The smoking pistol and Commander Shepard's body pulsed with dark blue energy.
Slowly Liara stood to her full height, never dropping her biotic barrier. Her crackling fists and narrow eyes silently threatened an unforgivable retaliation. "You forget, Commander, " Liara slowly began to walk toward her, "that the Shadowbroker is a powerful master of the universe's information. I know you no longer work for Cerberus. I know the Alliance has deemed you a traitor. And as far as being a Spectre..."
"You only know what you think you know. Surely the scientist doesn't base all of her findings on the surface of information. I came alone out of respect for your accomplishments with my team in the past. But make no mistake, I am going to complete this mission." Shepard held her ground, acutely aware of the dangerous proximity to her former lover. Her menacing glare mirrored that of her mother years ago, but the Commander pushed out any fear and trusted in her wits as she had countless times. "You are outnumbered and outgunned. This is your last chance, Doctor."
"I agree on your assessment, Shepard. Perhaps we should even the odds." Keeping the barrior engaged, Liara turned her attention to another terminal, and after a few keystrokes, Miranda began yelling into Shepard's com-link, "Damn it Shepard! Your girlfriend is firing on us. We have to pull up. There is still too much damage from the collectors' base! "
When Liara spun around with pistol in hand to face Shepard, the Commander was nowhere to be found. "Where is Shepard?"
The AI appeared to Liara's right, "The Shadowbroker has entered the propulsion room."
"SHEPARD!"