Beta-read by Saberlin.

-J-

Shepard's group was halfway to the elevator at the end of the Citadel Tower before they stopped walking. It was also the point at which people stopped popping up out of the woodwork, hoping to shake Shepard's hand, or give her good wishes. Shepard, despite the fact that she was starving, took it in stride, smiled, shook hands, and generally radiated pleasantness.

It was a relief when the stream of humans finally stopped flowing past, letting the marines get back to business. "Congratulations, Shepard," Capt. Anderson shook Shepard's hand firmly.

Shepard beamed, vaguely lightheaded, stunned by the idea and implications of being a Spectre. "Thank you, Captain."

Udina tapped his fingers on his folded arms. "We've got a lot of work to do, Shepard. You'll need a ship, a crew, supplies…" He shook his head, not noticing no one had paid much attention to his comment.

"Spectres get supplies through C-Sec, so you might want to swing by sometime." Capt. Anderson looked around, then leaned forward conspiratorially. "It's the good stuff. Trust me."

With his record, the captain could be counted on to know what the good stuff actually was without relying on hearsay. The red triangular N7 pin on his collar said so.

This statement also confirmed her theory that his knowledge of the Spectres was more personal than anyone—barring that ass Harkin—wanted to let on. She could cobble together a likely scenario with the information she had: Saren and Anderson playing the roles of Nihilus and Shepard, respectively. She couldn't even begin to draw conclusions about what happened next, only that it was bad, and Capt. Anderson ended up taking the blame. "So what, do I put it on the Alliance's credit card?"

Capt. Anderson shook his head. "Spectres are special."

Shepard sighed. "Well, I'm thinking…"

"Anderson," Udina interrupted the conversation, seemingly unaware that he had done so. "Come with me. I'll need your help to set all of this up." He strode off, apparently expecting Capt. Anderson to follow obediently.

Williams grimaced, shaking her head. What a slug.

"Take some time, do the tourist thing," Capt. Anderson patted Shepard's shoulder bracingly before following Udina.

"Is anyone else here starving?" Shepard asked, after a moment's pause, as if just noticing her own hunger.

Unexpected question or not, they all knew the saying: when told to stand, sit. When told to sit, take a nap. When told to eat, eat: you never know when the next chance will be.

-J-

Garrus recommended the club Flux as the place to go. The trouble was getting there.

Shepard was not sure who had called the press, but the press was waiting when Shepard, Alenko, Williams, Garrus and Tali poured out of the elevator. The entanglement did not last long—just long enough for Shepard to make it quite clear that she did not intend to say anything particularly useful to the press.

Saren would probably see the broadcast; she didn't want to give him any more information than he already had. All in all, Shepard felt she ought to be congratulated as Garrus led the way. At the turnoff to the club, he detached himself from the group, somewhat to Shepard's surprise, citing that he had a few things to take care of…

…but that he would like to rejoin them later, if that was all right.

Shepard watched Garrus go before leading the way up to the club.

Afternoon as it was, Flux was lit as though by large, bay windows, not the neon nightlife ambiance Shepard would expect later in the evening. The music was loud, but did not jar her bones.

Striding up to the volus bartender, Shepard leaned on the counter. Not exactly fast food, but Garrus said the place was good. She had no reason to disbelieve him.

"What can I do for you, earth-clan?" the volus asked, craning to look at the towering human.

"I need to feed four marines…"

Tali blinked behind her visor. She counted three.

"…and a quar…"

"Nothing for me, thanks. I brought my own," Tali interjected.

"Are you sure?" Surely, Shepard thought, the suit allowed a person to drink.

Tali chuckled. "Little difficult with the environmental suit, Commander," she pointed out gently.

"Right…so, what's good here?"

The volus chuckled, and produced a datapad.

"Oh shit…" Williams gaped at the inevitable vidscreen, propped in a corner where those not watching the dance floor could see it. "Commander…"

"Oh no…" Shepard followed Williams' gaze to see her own face plastered on the screen. "…can't even wait for a marine to get lunch…" She strode away from the bar, before throwing herself into a chair facing a wall, leaving Tali, Williams and Alenko to fall in at leisure.

Shepard shoved the datapad towards the center of the table. Having seen 'barbecue' and 'ribs' she knew what she wanted. And an Astro-Fizz. The biggest Astro-Fizz she could get her hands on.

It was that kind of day.

Alenko eyed the menu thoughtfully. The idea of three marines having the appetite of four was not so far off the mark. Breakfast seemed a long time ago, and waiting was hard work.

So, Williams followed a similar line of thought, was politicking and legalese tap dancing.

"Good afternoon—are you together?"

Before Williams and Alenko could do more than shift to get to wallets, Shepard waved. "We're together, I've got it…" The truth was, apart from being hungry in the middle of a tumultuous afternoon—and not the turmoil she was used to—she didn't want to face the media alone.

She could, she simply did not want to.

Tali shifted nervously, glad to be screened by Alenko's imposing bulk. She wondered if he noticed, at some point, her discomfort on the trip down, and had purposely shuffled her so she could sit close to the wall.

"I'd like...the ribs. And Astro-Fizz."

Alenko's imperfectly-repressed expression nearly made Shepard's day.

It was the sound of Shepard laughing quietly that snapped Alenko out of his surprise.

Astro-Fizz?