Our Love Is Problematic Chapter 59: A Proposal, a mass effect fanfic

Chapter 59 – A Proposal

Jack Shepard's apartment

Tiberius Towers, Silversun Strip

The Citadel

From my vantage point at the little landing area on the second floor of the apartment, the crowd below looked like a combination of college frat party, a military base in between tours, and a rave. Men and women and non-binary guests of every colour and species imaginable milled around, laughing, drinking, chatting, eating, dancing and making out. Everyone seemed to be having fun.

A few hours ago, we had gotten back to the apartment, having cleared up the ridiculous clone mess. After informing Captain Bailey of C-Sec everything we knew, I had gone upstairs for my first nap in my pristine new apartment. But not before I made a decision I would regret very much.

"You're going to bed? Boring!" called Joker.

"What, you have a better idea?"

"Obviously. We party down! Can we, sir?"

"Yeah, whatever," I said, stifling a yawn. "Just make sure there's food."

"Can I get Glyph to help me?"

"Knock yourself out," I said, climbing the stairs. I reached what looked like the biggest bedroom in the place, stripped down to my boxers and flopped on the incredibly welcoming bed with the sheets that felt like they had a thread-count in the millions.

I was roused from slumber a few hours later. It appeared to be late evening, judging by the Citadel's artificial lighting system. But the light wasn't what shook me awake. It was the incredible din. Some kind of music was pounding away in the background, loud enough I could feel it vibrating my skull a little. But even above the music, there was the chatter of what seemed like a hundred voices.

I hurriedly threw some fresh clothes on and stumbled outside onto the second floor landing. There were a few people there, drinking and talking to each other. None of them looked familiar, and none of them looked surprised to see me.

A new sight made me revise my earlier assessment. One of them looked familiar.

"Joker!" I hissed.

"What?" he asked. My pilot was lounging on a chair, drink in hand, talking to a couple of attractive women, and looking unspeakably pleased with himself.

"Why are there so many people in my apartment?"

"It's a party," he said flatly. "There tend to be guests at a party." The women giggled.

"I put you in charge of invitations, I thought this was going to be an intimate dinner thing!"

"Oh, well you see, about that," began Joker, rubbing the back of his head. "I invited Vega of course, then he told Cortez, who told Daniels and Donnelly, and they pretty much told the whole crew, and I didn't want them to feel left out, even when they invited their friends so I said sure, come and join us and...here we are."

Rather than dangle him from the balcony by an ankle, as tempting as that sounded, I decided to wander downstairs to try and make sense of it all.

My nice, quiet, elegant apartment was unrecognisable. Loud batarian music pounded in the background. There were flashing lights and the smell of certain questionable narcotic substances in the air. Good servicemen and women, soldiers and sailors who ran my ship with iron discipline and breakneck efficiency, were completely letting loose, alongside what looked like a mix of the Citadel's high society and the more...colourful...denizens of the Silversun Strip.

A jovial young man handed me a flute of what looked like asari liquor. A random turian passed me a slice of pizza with volus-friendly toppings. Before I could say no, they were in my hands and the ones who gave them to me moved on, lost in the teeming crowd. I decided to forget about chasing after them, and slid past one sweaty body after another until I reached the dining room. There was rather a lot of commotion around the drinks counter.

I got there just in time to see Karin Chakwas downing a mug of beer and slamming it on the countertop half a second before Ken Donnelly. "In your face, you loudmouth jock!" she crowed in delight. Gabby Daniels gave her a high five. Ken groaned.

"How are you beating me, woman? You must have a camel's hump somewhere!"

"The only hump that lady's got is the one in her trousers," leered a young guy with a mohawk, who I would find out later worked as a cultural interpreter for the Prime Minister's Office.

"Who said that?!" Karin yelled suddenly. A small hush fell, while a dozen fingers pointed at the randy gentleman. My ship's doctor slid off her barstool and went over to him, poking one finger into his chest.

"Don't start something you can't finish, boy," she said, her eyes alight with mischief.

"Oh I'm ready to finish anything you want to start," he said. A tad clumsy, but it got the point across. Karin grabbed his arm and wordlessly led him away, to cheers from the rest of the onlookers.

Just when I decided I had died and become a ghost, and was wandering the halls of my apartment with no one able to see or hear me, the air in front of me suddenly shimmered, and to my disbelief, a young Japanese woman with a wicked smile stood before me.

"Kasumi? Is that you?"

"No Shep," she said, sounding amused. "It's some other thief who can slink around undetected, even in this crowd."

I laughed and gave her a hug, and she hugged back. It was good to see Kasumi again. Even if she couldn't be a part of my frontline team, she was helping in her own way in the Crucible Project, running counter-hacking and helping the teams acquire pieces of tech long thought lost.

"How's my mom?"

"She's doing very well," said Kasumi. "The Reapers seem to be steering clear of our little hidey-hole, at least for now."

"Thank god for small mercies," I muttered. "How did you find out about this party anyway? Did Joker call you?"

"No, he sent out a text that tagged everyone he ever knew or spoken to," said Kasumi. "Oh, and all the videos that people are uploading onto their profiles, of course."

"What?" I said, alarmed. "People are sharing videos of the apartment? Oh for fuck's sake, I'm going to have to check for assassins behind every pack of cereal."

Kasumi laughed at my reaction. "No, silly. Liara set up something that makes sure nothing from anyone without security clearance gets out, not even a tiny little message. Her little floaty droid helped too. But I got bored and started hacking my way into various feeds."

"Oh, that's good," I said, relieved. At least someone had their head screwed on right.

"Of course, that was before I saw Liara take enough hits of something that could fell a krogan," Kasumi went on. "I'm not sure she's in the same universe as we are now."

"I need another drink," I said, looking at my empty champagne flute. A beautiful asari standing behind the counter very kindly mixed up something for me that had the kick of a mule and tasted wonderfully refreshing.

"Are you working?" I asked. She smiled and shook her head.

"I'm an aide to the salarian councillor!" she said, over the noise.

"Valern? He's here too?!"

"Somewhere!" she said cheerfully. Before I could think too much about that, a roar from the living room caught my attention. I muscled my way through and was greeted with the sight of James Vega, with his shirt off, having a push up contest against a krogan. I rubbed my eyes. It wasn't just any krogan. It was Grunt himself, the tank spawn who became Dr Okeer's perfect warrior.

"159!" yelled Ashley, looking excited.

"For the tank spawn too!" yelled Wrex protectively.

"I can do this all day!" grunted Vega, sweat running down his face.

"Yeah I know, I know," said Ashley. "But that might not be enough to beat Grunt."

"What do I get if I do beat him?"

"Let us wager our arms, human!" said Grunt, his claws digging marks into the nice, polished wooden floor.

"You're not getting my gun, friend," said Vega.

"Guns? I said arms! Loser hacks off an arm!"

"The humans don't regenerate limbs, pyjak," said Wrex, sounding sniffy.

"They do not?" asked Grunt. "How do they even go into battle?"

"Very sloppily!" said Garrus, slurring his words. It was strange to hear, coming from a turian.

"Oh, you want a fight, Vakarian?" asked Ashley, squaring up to him.

"Nothing easier, Williams!" retorted Garrus. "We paddled your fleshy human backsides in the Relay 314 Incident!"

I saw Ashley's face flush red with genuine anger. Even mentioning the First Contact War around her was a touchy subject, given her family history. I decided it was time to step into the fray.

"Push up contest, huh? Who's winning?" I said.

"JACK!" roared everyone. Garrus slapped me on the back and Ashley gave me a fist-bump, all hostilities seemingly forgotten.

"I'm winning, sir," said Vega, straining to keep going. Grunt looked like he was capable of doing push-ups until the Citadel fell out of the sky. Chalk that up to Okeer's genetic engineering.

"What's at stake here?"

"Tell you what," said Vega, glancing up at Ashley. "If I win this, I'm asking you out."

Ashley blushed red again, with embarrassment this time. Everyone else started laughing. A few glanced at me, people who knew the past Ashley and I had. Something Vega might not have known.

Quickly, I smiled. "Sounds like a plan, El-Tee. Going through a krogan is just a warm-up for what you're taking on!"

Ashley laughed. My unspoken message had gotten through. We loved each other once before. There was some part of me that would always care about her. But now, that meant hoping she would find love with someone else too.

Vega grunted again, looking like he was having difficulty. "Slowing down?" asked Ashley mockingly.

"Something's...not...right," he said, much to Wrex's amusement.

The air shimmered again, and Kasumi appeared, seated on Vega's back. "Thought I get a closer look," she said. Vega crumpled to the floor.

"Grunt wins!" I declared. "Looks like he gets to ask Ashley out."

"I will do no such thing!" declared Grunt, rising to his feet and pumping his fists in the air. "I am the victor of this physical contest! A krogan can never be bested by humans!"

"Oh look what you did," said Kasumi. "Making us look weak in front of the krogan."

"No thanks to you!" huffed Vega.

"Silver medal don't get the girl, Vega," said Ashley, tickling his chin before walking away. Vega groaned in disappointment.

"Have a beer," I said, handing one to my security chief. He popped it and took a swig.

"So, having fun?"

"Hell yeah sir," he said, raising the can at me. "Best party I've been to in a long while. Reminds me of an Alliance barracks."

He gulped down more beer, and belched. "Sir, about what happened just now..."

I nodded. "It's fine, Vega. Ash and I, that's history. You should do whatever makes you both happy."

"Dios mio," he swore. "You and the XO? Together?"

I felt my stomach sink. "Uh, you didn't know, did you?"

"Hell no! I never would have...never even dreamed..."

"Look El-Tee," I said, cutting him off. "It happened, but that was in the past. I'm not going to say it was an easy break-up, but we moved past it. Both of us. We're teammates. Good friends. She's saved my life more times than I can count, helped us save the galaxy. She's an amazing, brilliant woman and if you want to go after her, I wish you luck and success."

"Thank you, sir," he said. "Means a lot to me." He clinked his beer can against my glass and we took another drink.

"Oh and one more thing, if you go for her, do it right. If you treat her like trash, I will end you," I said easily, and couldn't help but smile at the look on his face.

"You're not kidding, are you," he said.

"Not even a little."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said. "Permission to go somewhere else and lick my wounds sir?"

"Permission granted, El-Tee."

No sooner than had he left than a couple of excited youngsters came up, wanting a photograph. And an autograph. And then another group. And then another. It seemed like they were forming a queue of sorts, making a beeline for me.

"The trappings of fame," remarked someone in a calm, measured tone. I couldn't believe it, but there she was. Samara, the asari justicar. I hadn't seen her in ages. I was surprised she was still alive, given her innate tendency to hurl herself into the most dangerous of situations, but remembering her awesome biotic abilities and centuries of combat prowess, not by much.

"Hello Shepard," she said. She was standing near the wall with her arms folded, putting me in mind of a lion lazing by a waterhole. The lion, powerful, graceful and deadly, could pounce at any moment on any of the animals who came by to drink their fill, but it chooses not to. Yet.

"I'm so glad you're here! Did Joker invite you?"

Samara smiled languidly. "I heard. I have some free time. I wanted to say hello."

"Well, here I am," I said.

Samara held up a hand, cutting off the next group of autograph-seekers. "I must apologise, young ones, but I have grave matters to discuss with the general."

"You do?"

"Yes," she said serenely, leading me away to a (relatively) quieter corner of the apartment.

"Sit with me, Shepard," she said, getting on the floor in a crossed-leg position. Her hands rested lightly on her thighs, palms up.

"Are we going to meditate?"

"Of a kind," she said. "Sit down."

I did as she asked (commanded, really), facing her, feeling absurdly like a school kid again.

"Now, we are going to talk."

"Are we going to mind-meld? Discuss deep philosophy?"

"No. Just talk."

"About what?"

She gave me a look I knew all too well. "This is a war, general. We are in the fight of our lives. There must be something you wish to cut loose from your shoulders or your mind."

I glanced around. "This doesn't look like a war to me. Look at these people. These kids. Some of them fight beside me. Some of them hole up here in the Citadel, behind big walls and unlimited money. To them, the war is a distraction. A side-show."

Samara reached out, and held my chin. She gently turned my face back to meet hers.

"They may not know war, but they know death," she said. "They know Death comes for them, with her beckoning hand. They carouse to forget this."

"It's just a party."

"The revels are a celebration of life. A defiance of death. As one of your playwrights put it, 'Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die.'"

I sighed heavily. "So you don't think the war can be won, huh."

"I have never said that," Samara replied. "I am not one to give in to blind faith, Shepard. This is the gravest danger galactic civilisation has ever seen, and I have nine centuries of history to recall. Armies are breaking and warriors are dying. But as long as there is a chance, I will keep fighting. As long as there are still people left who do not know war, the justicars will fight to defend them."

I nodded. "And so do the Marine Corps. Well, what's left of us."

"As long as there is but one," she said, first touching her chest, and then reaching out to rest her hand on mine. "We fight."

I held her hand. "We fight," I echoed. The noise of the party seemed to have faded. I felt more at peace, somehow.

"Let me tell you of my daughters," she said, after a moment. I raised an eyebrow, and tapped the side of my head. She shook hers.

"Not her. Has she been giving you trouble, by the way?"

"Not lately," I said truthfully. She looked a little wistful.

"I would give up so much just to hold the girl that she was, before she fell to evil, and tell her how much I love her one more time. I would even ask you to take a message to that shade of hers in your head, if I did not know any better. You must resist her advances."

"Doing my best."

"No, I do not speak of Morinth. My other daughters, Rila and Falere."

Samara told me what she had been up to, since we last spoke. Roaming the galaxy, snuffing out threats, protecting the innocent. Fighting evil. But while the justicars have fought evil for centuries, the Reaper invasion was something huge. Beyond their long experience. Perhaps even beyond their capabilities. Samara did what she could, but every day she saw more ground being lost, more innocents dying, more cities burned to ash.

And then family called.

I listened, spellbound, as Samara told me about the call she received from asari high command about a situation at the monastical retreat where her ardat-yakshi daughters were residing. The place had been overrun by Reaper forces. Samara was forced to purge the premises of their corruption, including a corrupted, twisted mockery of what had once been an asari maiden.

As Samara described the thing, its great height, dead black eyes, terrifying strength and worst of all, its soul-rending shriek that made you want to curl up and claw your own eyes out.

"The banshee," she said grimly. "I have killed many things in my long life. This was the most formidable of them all."

When Samara finally dropped it, she was exhausted, out of clips and bleeding from a dozen wounds. But she had saved the monastery. And with Falere vowing to rebuild the monastery and holding true to her promise to remain inside, far from society, Samara was not forced to kill her last daughter still alive, in accordance with the justicar code.

"You really would have done it?"

"Yes," she said simply. "Though I would have killed myself after. The code cannot be broken by a justicar. Yet to lose Falere would be to lose everything I have left. I could not go on."

"I'm glad you didn't have to," I said.

"I fight this war too, Shepard," Samara. "Now I know my daughter is not in immediate danger, I will resist the invaders till my last breath. I go to war to protect Falere. I know you have the burdens of the galaxy on your shoulders. The mind cannot conceive of such things, not truly. To consider it all would be paralysing. So I only have one question for you, and consider it carefully. Who do you fight for? Not the galaxy. Not the Alliance. Not even Earth. And not the untold fallen. Whodo you fight for?"

That's easy. "Jackie."

Samara smiled. "I never comment on personal matters, but allow me to indulge, just this once. You are good for her, and she is good for you. Keep each other safe. Fight for each other. And we might all just win this."

"I guess my mom too, if it comes to that," I added, after some thought. "And the crew. Oh, and Anderson. And Hackett. And the Prime Minister, she's great." Samara looked faintly exasperated.

"Yes, well. I believe this is a good time as any to end things. Go. Enjoy your revels. You have earned them."

"You're not coming?" I asked, getting up. Samara shook her head. "I am comfortable where I am," she said, and closed her eyes, resuming her meditation.

I wandered back to the party, which was still in full swing. Even in the midst of the celebrations, I couldn't stop thinking like a military man. This evidence of Reaper incursions in asari space – especially on a planet as deep as where Samara's daughters stayed – had to be bad news for asari high command. The asari had contributed some resources, knowledge and scientific teams to the Crucible Project, but they were dithering on a full-fledged military alliance with the rest of the Council races.

From what I managed to glean from intelligence reports, the asari were conducting what might be the largest public debate in their long history. Their military leaders wanted an alliance, but some of the civilians wanted to bide their time, apparently in the belief that not antagonising the Reapers would mean their own safety. They cited the fact that the Reapers had barely penetrated asari territory, as compared to the Turian Empire or the HSA. Still others wondered if they could somehow contact the Reapers and negotiate with them instead.

Ridiculous. Desperate hope based on nothing, born of fear. If there was a way to hide, the drell would have found it. If there was a way to buy them off, the volus would have done it. If there was a way to outsmart them, the salarians would have gotten it done. The Reapers wouldn't leave you alone if you left them alone. They would level the galaxy and not leave a single stone left standing on top of another.

I filed away the information, to pass on to the Alliance later. As grim as it was, news that the Reapers had infiltrated an ardat-yakshi facility deep in asari space might end up turning the tide of opinion of the asari towards war.

Then someone begged me for a selfie, someone else handed me a salty snack, and I shrugged and went for it. What the hell. Just for tonight.

Jackie Nought

The Bloody Moon

Zakera Ward

The Citadel

Hours ago

"It was me, you know," said Garrus, in a theatrical whisper. C-Sec had been called to the Bloody Moon to clean up what remained of the clone and take witness statements. Shepard was talking to one of the officers, a little distance away.

Jackie raised an eyebrow. "What was?"

"That first shot. The one that caught your friend right on the skull. I made it, in case you were wondering."

"Oh, did you now."

"Jack couldn't have made that shot. Never in a million years. In fact, I saved your life."

"Well, you know what happens when I owe someone a debt," said Jackie, her voice low, moving towards Garrus. She was pleased to see a momentary flash of doubt pass his face before she went up on tiptoe and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you Garrus," she said warmly. Garrus clapped a hand to his cheek, looking dazed.

"Well, I never," he said softly.

"And you know what's the best part?"

"What?"

"No one will ever believe you," she said, and laughed when Garrus absorbed the truth of that remark.

"They won't, will they?"

"Nope. You know, I bet Jack could have made the shot. You just pulled the trigger first."

Garrus sniffed. "At this range? Please."

"You boys should have a shooting contest or something," she said. Garrus looked thoughtful.

"Maybe we should."

They piled into a shuttle that would take them back to the apartment. Shepard yawned, and leaned his head on Jackie's shoulder.

"I could use some shut-eye," he said. "This is still technically my day off."

"Of all the things we could be doing, you want to take a nap," said Jackie, unimpressed.

"I will rail you until I drop dead of dehydration later," said Shepard, eyes closed, ignoring Garrus's wince. "But I am having that nap."

"I should have kept that clone around," she said. Shepard didn't take the bait. Jackie felt annoyed throughout the return trip. Then she heard him yell something about a party to Joker, and a devious plan formed in her mind.

"Did I hear something about a party?" she said, sidling up to Joker.

"Oh hey Jackie," said Joker. "Yeah, wouldn't it be nice to celebrate for once? We've only been saving the galaxy, no big deal."

"Who's coming to this little shindig?"

"Oh you know. Garrus. Tali, I assume. Maybe Traynor."

"Why not just go on and invite everyone we know?" she said.

"You mean the whole crew?"

"I mean everyone," she said. "Everyone we know! Everyone Jack knows, and everyone they know too. It's a party, it can't just be us sitting around feeling awkward. We should get a crowd inside this big-ass apartment!"

Jackie could see Joker warming up to the idea. "What about security?" he asked.

"Oh, Liara will take care of that," said Jackie dismissively. Then she played her trump card. "It'd be a nice surprise for Jack, he loves a good party."

Hours later, she had to suppress a fit of the giggles when she spotted Jack angrily confronting Joker, presumably about the size of the party. Jackie slipped away to the bar, where she got a glass of something nice and colourful and let the incredible noise of the crowd wash all over her.

"You're Jacqueline Nought, aren't you?" asked a woman, who had come up to her. Jackie gave her a glance, fighting down an urge to kill her on sight just for knowing her name.

"Who's asking?"

The woman flushed scarlet. "I'm, I'm sorry." Jackie bit her lip. The woman looked frightened, verging on terrified.

"No, I'm...sorry. I didn't mean that," she said. "Yeah, that's me."

"My name's Moira. I work with the Prime Minister."

"Oh, her. She's alright, I guess."

Moira looked momentarily flummoxed, before regaining her composure. "Yes, I suppose so. Anyway, I just wanted to say hi and...and thank you."

"Oh," said Jackie. She didn't know what to say.

"I get to read the reports that Shepard sends in," she said. "He always includes everything you've done. You're amazing, and we're all rooting for you."

Jackie sat still for a moment, feeling slightly emotional. "Thank you. That's nice of you."

"Can I get a photo?" she asked, looking hopeful. A tiny smile touched the corner of Jackie's lips. What the hell.

She let the eager young woman take a photo, and even waved her goodbye.

"Getting soft, are you?" asked someone in a slightly slurred voice. It was Tali, swaying very gently where she stood.

"Not on your life, Twinkles," said Jackie.

"You are," she said, pointing straight at Jackie. "Big, bad Jackie O is just a big old softy at heart. It must be all that loooove," she said, maliciously drawing out that last word.

"Oooookay," said Jackie. "How are you even tipsy anyway? Your suit's still on."

"I have access to highly-advanced quarian technology that allows me to imbibe liquids while still wearing my suit," she said huffily.

"We have that too genius, we call it a straw."

"Our quarian straws make your straws look pathetic!"

"I am not getting in a fight with you over straws," said Jackie firmly.

"You're not so tough," said Tali, as if she hadn't spoken. "Now that you're all kissy and holding hands with the captain. You're going to get married and buy a house next. Then kids, maybe two. Or seventeen, I don't know humans. Regular boring domestic Jackie O."

Jackie raised an eyebrow. "You do know I can still kill you with my mind, right?"

Tali waved a hand. "Face it Jackie, that's how it's going to be, because that's just how he is. He's nice. Well, most of the time. He helped get my planet back. Good guys do that."

"Yeah well-"

"See, any girl could be good to him," she said, apropos of nothing. "But it takes a bad girl to blow his mind." And with that, she walked away, still swaying.

Jackie sipped her drink and watched Jack get up from where he was talking to Samara, and then finally letting loose and having a little fun. No one knew better than her how stressed he got sometimes. Jack didn't even know it, but he was beginning to mumble and thrash around a little in his sleep.

The brief snatches of what he said were all about the war, and death, and the weight on his shoulders. More than once she'd been woken up in the middle of the night. Luckily, he seemed to quiet down at her touch.

"Give us a song!" yelled someone she didn't know. He looked like a soldier of some kind. Jack laughed.

"A song?" he said, standing in the middle of the room. "Alright, I'll sing you a song." Jack waved his hands about, completely without any kind of grace, as the people around him started to clap.

"I placed my hand upon her toe, yo ho, yo ho!

I placed my hand upon her toe, yo ho, yo ho!

I placed my hand upon her toe, she said marine, you're way too low