"Montreal" by The Weeknd / "The Hive" from Deus Ex: Human Revolution / "Numbers" by FKA twigs

XIV. Love Me Tender

(Ashley)

So many other possibilities echoed through the hollow golden mists of this city.

So many missed chances for deeper connections in the past—from my hesitations, from Shepard's.

She chose to leave me alone, again, today, all morning to the afternoon, leaving me to my research in bed in my hotel room, searching the extranet for answers, to know more about her, her culture…

But really, the whole time I did this, I kept kicking myself. Like, maybe I could've persuaded Shepard to be with me before, earlier, without needing to put us both through so much suffering. If I'd taken my time and figured out how to approach her, then we could've avoided all of this pain altogether. Maybe I would actually understand her, way more, and that could have helped me figure her out today. Or maybe none of this would have happened, and we both could've been happy, with nothing in the way…

I could have been her one and only by now if I hadn't let my fears stop me. If I'd taken the risk sooner. Could have, should have, would have—and maybe, maybe, maybe.

There was no point in dwelling on any of this shit, but I did it anyway… Anything to make this pain go away, to dull it even a little bit.

After all, Shepard had such a history of not knowing how to love whoever she was in a relationship with. She had hurt them; they had hurt her. That was all she knew. And this pain now, this knife twisting through my heart—it was all I knew of her, too. If I could have twisted this right back into her, then it would have been karma for her. Maybe she knew that. Maybe she knew, and she didn't want the karma.

The only thing that made sense…was that she stayed away from me, and out of reach from this knife.

Twisting these thoughts of mine darker with time, darker with the rain clouds outside: I stayed in bed all day, just in this oversized T-shirt of mine and my underwear, glued to the extranet browser of my omni-tool. I had spent hours doing this—ever since I woke up this morning, and realized that my date with Shepard last night hadn't been a dream—

Browsing these interracial dating sites for more views, more perspectives, more information…all while feeling like I would never get a real chance to put any of this to use.

Eating this rainbow sherbet ice cream I'd bought, right from the carton, because I was that pathetic.

Consuming this information about mixed women, their hair, why they felt out-of-place in society, 'othered' by both or all of the races they were mixed with for not being enough of one or the other; consuming my feelings as I ate this ice cream, and trying not to cry over how much I missed Shepard—so much that my heart could have burst at any minute from this knife twisting inside, twisting and twisting.

No more bleeding, though, since that was finally over…and I had emailed Shepard already, telling her as much. I told her that I was ready for her. I was ready for anything. She hadn't responded—I saw that she had 'read' my message right away. Why? Why wouldn't she say something back, acknowledge me?

My role in this interracial relationship was to listen to her, to never assume that I knew better.

Relationship…

I dug deeper into this box of ice cream with my spoon, only to realize it was all gone.

Not a drop of rainbow left in this carton, anywhere.

Collapsing against my pillows, I checked the time—almost 2:00pm, 1400 hours.

And Shepard's status was still set to unavailable. No emails from her. Fucking no contact, again!

Groaning in frustration, exasperation, I jumped out of bed, determined to just go for it already.

If Shepard insisted on playing these stupid games with me, then that meant I had to win the final battle.

Or all of the battles, really… Since there was no end to something like this.

I knew where she was, right then, and right this second. I had to go to her. It was now or never.

I stormed over to this hotel room's holo-closet that linked to mine back on the Normandy. Standing here in my plain old shirt and my underwear, I tried to figure out what to put on. The obvious temptation was to wear the outfit Shepard had bought for me last night, from that Prada store… I had lost my obnoxious water weight from yesterday, so getting the jeans back on wouldn't have been a problem.

I couldn't wear the same thing twice in a row, though. Wasn't there some fashion rule against that?

Shepard wouldn't have approved.

And no matter how pissed I was at her, I still needed her to approve, to need me, to love me back.

But this outfit was so nice—way nicer than my entire wardrobe of just whatever shirts, jeans, dresses…

A knock at my door made me frown in confusion. Despite my hopes, I knew that it wasn't Shepard. Whoever it was that knocked, they sounded way too gentle and delicate…even though that same touch from her half-kiss had burned me up last night.

I threw on whatever sweatpants to cover myself up, and then went to answer the door.

My eyes went wide in half-anger, half-shock once I saw who this was.

Tali pulled at her hands as she stood there in the hall, unable to look at me.

I only stared at her, not knowing what to say.

In between her and Shepard avoiding me these days, I was seriously at my limit.

"Ashley, I understand that you don't want to talk," said Tali, more diplomatic than anything. "And I can tell that now isn't a good time for us to have a conversation, anyway. I just…wanted to say…that I'm sorry. For holding a grudge over something so stupid. It wasn't fair of me, I know. I was too emotional to see reason. I only wanted you to think it over first before we actually speak—if we actually speak…"

Scowling now to cover my surprise, I gave my blunt response, "Yeah. I'll think it over. Thanks, I guess."

Tali sighed, lingering there.

I thought that might've been it.

But she had more to share, "Also, unrelated: you…have a delivery. It's waiting for you by the elevators."

"A delivery…?" I asked, anxious. "For me, really? Who's it from?"

Letting herself laugh softly, Tali replied, "I'm pretty sure you'll know right away." She gestured for me to follow her. "Come on. The hotel workers brought everything up for you. You'll have to sign something, for confirmation that you received the delivery. The guys can barely contain themselves over it."

"Okay…"

I followed her down the hallway, not knowing what to expect.

Once we made it closer to the common room next to the elevators, I could already hear the guys—Garrus, Joker, and Wrex—talking to each other in amazement over whatever this delivery was. I couldn't really make out what they said, though. I missed Kaidan. I missed him… I had sent him an email earlier asking if he was all right; what he was up to with the whole process he had to go through. He could only send a short response letting me know that he was on his way to Vancouver today, already, so soon.

Out of respect for his situation, I couldn't say a word to anyone about it.

He hadn't wanted to say goodbye to the others. That would've made things ten times harder for him.

I already knew that Shepard would know what to say to the team once the time was right…

Reaching this huge space of the common room near the elevators, I couldn't…

I seriously…couldn't believe my eyes…

Waiting there for me with the smiling hotel workers—bags and bags and bags of shopping with the names of each brand: Prada, Michael Kors, Christian Siriano, Versace ready-to-wear clothes and dresses, all in my size; Givenchy, Cartier, Bulgari jewelry locked away in coffers; boxes of classic Nike, Timberland, and Air Jordan shoes, and heels and boots made by Armani, Louis Vuitton, and Balenciaga, again, all my size; stacks of purses protected with dust cover bags, from Yves Saint Laurent, Coach, Gucci, Alexander McQueen; and crates of perfumes by Dior, Dolce & Gabbana, Tom Ford, Burberry, Calvin Klein…

Just nearby, Joker whistled low; Wrex chuckled, knowing; Garrus complimented the hell out of me.

I had clamped my hands over my mouth without realizing it, completely blown away by all of this…

Somehow—on auto-pilot—I managed to sign this confirmation, trying not to cry the whole time.

The hotel workers smiled at me, more, and moved to bring all of the bags to my room for me.

As red as my face was, and sweating as the same dew from those cut stems, Tali accepted the fresh bouquet of deep red roses from one of the workers. She handed the heavy flowers to me in gentleness; and right away, I smelled the fullness of this endless scent, reaching so far into me, as deep as this red was, finding every single element of oxygen in my body and latching there as I breathed all of this in.

I found the note tied to the stems, sniffling as I read her professional handwriting over and over again:

To: Ashley

From: Shepard

These roses are immortal, everlasting. They'll never grow old. Whether you care for them or not, they'll never wither and die out. They will always be here with you, to you, from me.

They'll have to do for now until I figure something out for us.

You're worth it: you are worth more than all the money I've saved in my life, as the miracle that helped me escape the chaos I once knew. Far more than good enough: you are absolutely invaluable to me.

You are still sublime in every way imaginable; still the most beautiful woman that I'll ever know.

You are my goddess.

Floating through this hazy existence, swept up in the fantasy of it all, of everything, I took this next step.

Stepping up to this plate, I understood what Shepard needed me to do here, unspoken from her.

Because even though she had done this for me—even though she was such a fucking romantic—she still, still had her omni-tool's status set to unavailable.

Shepard knew I'd signed the confirmation. She knew that I received the extra gift too: the insurance she had taken out on everything in thoughtfulness, including the jewelry. She had already transferred all of those relevant files and permissions to my omni-tool. She had to know that I loved this gesture from her, from how she had picked and curated every single thing for me, matching my tastes and preferences exactly, and even exceeding them; she had to know that I loved her with all my heart, and that I could hardly keep it inside anymore, as close as we both were to each other, despite this distance here.

So I took this time to prepare, to get ready for anything.

I spent a couple of hours with Tali, first, in my room with her, looking through everything. Having her back meant so much to me, and she knew it—so much that we didn't need to talk about that dumb, irrelevant shit from before. Whatever her problem had been before, Tali had set all of that aside to be here with me, to support me through this floating, and this fantasy that I still couldn't believe was real.

After somehow managing to pick an outfit, Tali helped me set the rest away into my holo-closet.

Just like that, Shepard had replaced and upgraded my entire wardrobe, transforming it into a museum.

A museum on me, for me, with Shepard's gifts to me on full-display, as I eventually settled on: the loose white of this linen jacket and a tighter white shirt, hopefully as a show of my intentions here. Hiding something—or bringing attention to it—I matched my shirt's tightness with the black of these leather jeans, bulking out at the end with the weight of these tanned, tomboyish Timberland boots.

Roses, everlasting roses: this Tom Ford rose-scented perfume finished the display, making me feel more dignified than I actually was.

As this walking museum, I left the hotel for the nearby monorail station.

Sitting in this monorail car during the ride to Central Station, I stayed away from the other people, choosing to stay right next to a window. I put my headphones in, listening to some of Shepard's music that I had bought and downloaded for myself. The rail took us over the San Diego Bay and the piers with a view of the peninsula's beaches and the long Coronado Bridge wrapping over the perfect blue, leaving this part of the black-golden city for the next one farther south.

Out of paranoia, I wondered what would've happened to us if we fell in the water somehow. But even in this limited light from outside, I could see the glimmer of a kinetic shield over the sea's surface, ideally preventing a monorail car from crashing to the depths below.

It wasn't raining like yesterday. Not yet. These same, thick rain clouds loomed overhead, graying out the day, and highlighting the gold everywhere, even more, making it stand out against that starkness.

Right on cue, I got an alert to my omni-tool from the team. Someone had pinged me.

Checking our chat, I felt lost, trying to keep up with this conversation with no context.

So I decided to scroll up first before responding to the ping. I read the logs starting from about half an hour ago while I was getting dressed, after Tali had already left my room:

[16:24:44] Joker: Dude, I've never seen so many designer brands in my freaking life. Sure makes me feel like shit! 'Cause there's no way I'll ever be able to afford a girl like that haha

[16:25:21] Tali: Well, if you think it's about "affording girls", then of course you won't get anywhere.

[16:25:55] Joker: No, Tali! That's not what I mean! Come on, cut me some slack here!

[16:25:59] Wrex: Liara

[16:26:26] Garrus: I don't know, Joker. You could learn a thing or two from Shepard. Like how to treat a woman like a lady, how to get to know her, how to seriously impress her in front of all of her friends…

[16:26:55] Tali: And how to actually speak to her in the first place instead of running to your porn.

[16:27:24] Joker: Aww, man… Low-blow, Tali. Low-blow!

[16:27:55] Tali: Please tell me this isn't another one of your disgusting jokes.

[16:28:16] Joker: WHAT? NO!

[16:28:20] Wrex: Liara

[16:28:30] Tali: If you say so.

[16:29:11] Garrus: Anyway, Wrex and I are here at the corner store now. Tali, did you want us to pick up your same drinks? Or how about some juice this time?

[16:29:13] Wrex: Liara

[16:29:55] Tali: I think the juice will be best for now… Thank you, Garrus.

[16:30:40] Joker: Hey, I heard you had a pretty good time at Dark Goddess! Getting wasted and acting all cute for everyone? That's like, peak Tali right there. Why not have another round for the party tonight?

[16:31:26] Tali: By all means, Joker, YOU are free to get that drunk. I don't remember a thing from that night, and I have no plans to repeat this! Keelah, will you stop picking on me already?!

[16:32:13] Joker: But I have to pick on you! I can't do it to Ash too much anymore, or else Shepard will definitely kick my ass. Besides, you're always talking smack to me, too! Fair is fair!

[16:32:45] Garrus: What's Chief up to, anyway? Any word on whether she's staying for the party?

[16:33:23] Joker: Uh, I think she's swimming in diamonds and actual perfume about now in her room.

[16:33:30] Wrex: Liara

[16:33:35] Tali: Ashley is getting dressed at the moment. She'll be on her way out soon.

[16:34:20] Garrus: Understandable. Figured she'd be gone again. I'll put these wine coolers back, then.

[16:35:03] Joker: Speaking of that, where the heck is Kaidan?! I haven't seen him since we got here!

[16:35:54] Tali: I don't know… I sent him several private messages, too. I really hope he's all right.

[16:36:02] Wrex: Liara

[16:36:14] Liara: Wrex, what is it?!

[16:36:20] Wrex: Hi

[16:36:24] Liara: …

[16:36:40] Joker: Dude, Wrex…even I wouldn't do that to her… You know Liara CAN kick your ass, right?

[16:36:42] Wrex: Liara hey

[16:37:05] Tali: Wrex, will you stop provoking her?! Just ask her already! Like a normal person!

[16:37:06] Wrex: Hey Liara

[16:37:33] Liara: Wrex, I am out right now! I'm busy! What is it that you want?!

[16:38:01] Wrex: You are invited to the Ultimate San Diego Party tonight

[16:38:30] Wrex: Hotel common room

[16:39:09] Wrex: Will you be there Liara

[16:39:25] Garrus: We're likely going to get started in a couple of hours, around 7. What do you say?

[16:39:40] Joker: Yeah, come on Liara. We haven't seen you this whole time either! Hang out with us!

[16:40:12] Tali: Please? I miss you. We all do.

[16:46:31] Liara: Fine. I will be there.

[16:47:01] Joker: Sweet! I've got my best BLUE TENTACLE jokes cooking just for you!

[16:47:20] Garrus: Glad to hear it, Liara. I'll see if we can find that pure Thessian wine of yours. You seemed to like it the other night. Or did you want something else to drink instead?

[16:50:21] Joker: Hey! Earth to Liara! We're still talking to you here! Don't run off now!

[16:51:40] Garrus: Really don't want to have to ping her again…

[16:52:03] Wrex: Liara do you want your Fancy Blue Thessian Wine

[16:52:40] Liara: Yes, please… Thank you.

[16:53:23] Wrex: Alright I will buy it special for you Liara you are my precious blueberry

[16:54:08] Tali: Uhm, is this your way of apologizing for pushing her buttons so much…?

[16:54:10] Joker: MY SIDES

[16:55:30] Garrus: Tali, do you know for certain that Ashley won't be back later on?

[16:56:01] Tali: Actually, I don't. I think she left a few minutes ago. She didn't say where she was going. Then again, it's pretty obvious. I doubt she'll be able to join us tonight. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask?

[16:57:14] Wrex: Clan Chief Ashley hello are you there

[16:57:30] Tali: Aw, that's so cute!

[16:57:59] Joker: Haha yeah it is…what's that all about?

[17:02:01] Garrus: Hm, just noticed those wine coolers are on sale… Wouldn't want them to go to waste.

[17:03:10] Wrex: Ashley

[17:04:20] Me: Yeah?

[17:04:50] Wrex: Will you be out tonight

[17:05:10] Wrex: Or will we see you at the Ultimate San Diego Party

[17:05:40] Me: Um, thanks for the invite. Doubt I'll be able to make it—at least not on time. Maybe later!

[17:06:10] Garrus: Roger that. No worries, Chief. Just didn't want to leave you out for the big bash.

[17:07:11] Joker: Yeah, we're gonna go for as long as we can tonight. I've got a feeling this is the last day of shore leave. Better make the most of it!

[17:07:40] Me: Sounds like it'll be fun! Definitely party it up, guys. Sorry I might not be there.

[17:08:01] Joker: Well, you've got more important things going on tonight, Ash…

[17:08:10] Tali: Did Shepard ever tell us why we've been on shore leave for this long? It feels like we're waiting for something.

[17:08:50] Joker: Nope! Knowing her, it's probably some top secret thing with the Council. Remember they called as soon as we got to Thessia? I'm sure they're making us sit around until they call her back.

[17:09:30] Tali: Hmm, you could be right. Still, I hope we can leave this hotel soon. It's a lovely place, but I get the feeling we're being watched somehow… It's creepy.

[17:10:03] Me: I know, right? Thought it was just me…

[17:10:57] Tali: Oh, no, I feel it too. I've felt it this whole time. I ran several checks for any unusual security cameras or spying systems of some sort. Nothing came up. So, if there aren't any secret programs keeping an eye on us, then it must be…someone…

[17:11:30] Joker: Nah, it's probably just Shepard cloaking around. If I could turn invisible like that, you can bet your ass I'd take full advantage of it!

[17:12:21] Garrus: Sure, Joker, but unlike you, Shepard isn't a major pervert. Doubt she'd go for that.

[17:12:59] Joker: You don't know that! Ash, you can confirm for us, can't you? Do YOU think the commander would creep around and spy on us? Or at least…on the girls? On you, in your room?

[17:13:20] Wrex: RED FLAG

[17:13:58] Garrus: Yeah, Joker, we're not supposed to cross that line. No talking about Shepard behind her back like this. It's the rule, remember?

[17:14:51] Joker: Aww, guys, come on… Can't we make an exception?! I'm dying here! Ashley is Commander Shepard's girlfriend! You don't understand how special that is to me… Shepard opened her heart up to the one person who's the most loyal to her. Gives me hope I'll find someone someday…

[17:15:21] Tali: That's very sweet and everything, but we have to follow the rules. No gossiping about Shepard, and no telling Shepard about this chat in the first place. It's simple.

[17:15:45] Me: Yeah, Joker…you're being weirdly adorable right now… Rules are rules. Besides, I'm almost at my stop now. Can't talk once I'm there.

[17:16:04] Joker: Okay, but can't you at least tell me where she's taking you tonight?

[17:16:30] Me: I don't know yet…

[17:16:41] Joker: But you ARE going to see her? That's what you're doing, right now?

[17:17:02] Me: I'm taking the monorail to her place. Why does it matter to you so much?

[17:18:40] Joker: Ash, look, it's not like I'm trying to live vicariously through you or some stupid crap like that. And I know I talk a lot of shit about how hooked you are on her. The thing is, I really care about how much you two care…about each other. All those dumb fire jokes actually mean something, you know! You two are the real deal. So I'm wishing you luck, all right?

[17:19:30] Me: Oh, wow… Um. Thanks, Joker… I really…don't know what else to say here.

[17:21:03] Garrus: Well, that sure was unexpected.

[17:21:30] Tali: I know, right? Joker actually being sincere for once? I can hardly believe it.

[17:21:40] Wrex: I agree

[17:22:33] Joker: AND you and Shepard are mega fucking hot together! BOMBSHELLS! Ashley Williams, the ultimate indestructible soldier babe is dating Commander Shepard, the ultimate infiltrator Spectre badass! I'm telling you, it doesn't get any better than this!

[17:22:40] Tali: That didn't take long at all.

[17:22:40] Wrex: I agree

[17:22:49] Garrus: Wait a minute… Wrex? What are you agreeing with?

[17:23:20] Joker: He's agreeing with what I said! Look at the timestamps!

[17:23:40] Me: I have to go now… I'm at my stop. I'll see you guys later. Hope you have a great party.

[17:23:55] Tali: Bye, Ashley! Be safe, and have fun with Shepard tonight!

[17:24:03] Garrus: Chief, don't you mean, "I should go"? You should go.

[17:24:30] Wrex: HAHAHA I'm standing right next to you Garrus but also laughing here, so funny

[17:24:32] Joker: See ya, Ashley…

That conversation with the team stayed fresh in my mind as I left the monorail car at Central Station.

Still listening to music, I walked through this access tunnel of the station, following my omni-tool's navigation system for directions. I passed by abandoned magazines sitting on random chairs, some trash littering the place here and there, and so many people of all walks of life, everywhere. Just from the material of this green tile underneath my feet, and the green and orange tiles all around on the walls, everywhere, I knew my heavy footsteps from these boots had to be seriously echoing right now. Even the sound vibrations from the noise and conversations in here at least reached my ears.

Leaving the general area for line two—the monorail line I'd taken to get here—I kept my eyes to the ceiling more so than my omni-tool, looking for the right sign to take, to exit the station.

That noise again: almost interrupting my music, I walked by some punks dancing and busking for an impromptu audience of other civilians sitting and watching nearby. They looked like teenagers, probably blasting their obnoxious teenage music. Most of the people sitting around them were busy on their omni-tools anyway, not really paying attention. I guessed they must've been more bored than anything.

Plenty of armed police officers walked by me, too, patrolling the access tunnel. San Diego Police Department emblazoned over their armored uniforms of blue and gold, they carried their assault rifles out in the open as they went. Some of them looked me up and down from behind their helmets, maybe trying to figure out if I was from around here, or if they recognized me somehow. There was some overlap between Earth's police force and the Alliance. Retired military to police was pretty common.

Like some of the civilians around me, though, seeing all of these cops here made me nervous.

I felt less safe with them around.

I took my headphones off, feeling a sudden need to be more alert.

Hurrying down the stairs instead of taking the escalator, I kept following the signs, kept moving. I hadn't expected any of this in a place so close to Shepard's apartment—not at all. Even if this was just the monorail station, I figured she'd live somewhere spotless and pristine, almost.

Then again, Shepard wasn't some stuck-up snob. She had standards, but she still had an edge to her.

No matter how much money she had, these streets were a part of her. They were in her blood.

Finally finding the right overhead sign leading out to Jefferson Drive, I followed it to the correct exit, down another set of stairs next to an escalator again.

Outside through the automatic glass doors, I found that golden mist again, practically breathing it in.

Pulling my eyesight upward, I saw a gigantic advertisement on the building just across from me, here at the top of the stairs leading down to the street level. There on the tall billboard halved by a monorail line, the Alliance News Network promised to deliver fair and balanced coverage of the galaxy's most important stories. Those newscasters in Alliance uniforms looked sincere and honest enough…

Dark gray of those same rain clouds looming overhead, I felt the slight chill from this drop in temperature compared to the station. Less dense and metropolitan than the rest of the city, this area still had glowing advertisements everywhere, breaking up that gold with splashes of bright blue and red. Not-so-tall buildings, but still high enough to obscure enough of the sky—this place felt a little more down-to-earth, with liquor stores, movie theaters, and pizza shops that I could spot in the distance.

Faint wailing from ambulance and police sirens off in the distance, I saw a police station across the way. Explained why there were so many cops in the access tunnel. Still made me nervous, though.

Heading down the stairs to Jefferson Drive, I followed the street straight ahead. I walked by an alleyway with a few guys chain-smoking some old-fashioned cigarettes back there, the street lights misting down more of that golden haze everywhere. Following the road, I went past this pantheon of a bank, until I saw the street sign abbreviated as G.d. River Rd. God River Road?

Whatever it was, the road wrapped around off to the left past the bank, so I kept going that way.

I liked these brick-and-mortar, Mom and Pop stores on the road to Shepard's apartment building: those pizza shops and liquor stores, Mexican restaurants, and some computer shops and auto repair places. I really liked that they still existed in this day and age, even though some of them had shut down—a few empty buildings had those For Rent signs plastered all over the inside windows.

Next to those empty buildings, I spotted a bunch of groups of women wearing some…interesting clothes, this early in the night. Too busy smoking and talking in their groups, most of them didn't notice me. But then, a few of them did take the time to look at me, smirking once they did. They assumed I had money, so of course they wanted to talk to me, somehow not caring or even liking that I wasn't a man.

"Hey hottie, where you going? I see you with those nice-looking clothes on. Why don't you come over here, let me check and see if all of it's real?"

"Slow down for a minute, baby… You sure are fine. Got some time to head 'round the back? 'Cause I've got all night for you, that's for damn sure… You look like a real nasty girl, and I love it."

"Perfect tits, strong thighs, and a scrumptious ass? Mmm, honey, you must have all the boys callin' you sexy. And with that face, you can get it any time. Stick around for a while—let me sit on that face of yours, ride those thick lips real good 'til you make me come. I bet you like that, don't you?"

Then they started laughing, blowing smoke over here, since they knew I couldn't say anything back.

I just ignored them and kept walking…

Once I finally made it to the apartment complex—the Chiron Building—I had to stop and stare.

The tallest building on the block, it looked like some kind of concept piece straight out of a museum… Experimental, even fashionable for a piece of architecture, the sharp, jagged edges of black and white glass everywhere definitely reminded me of Shepard, mixed in with this mist, too. The windows started to look normal again the higher up I could see, so this complex wasn't totally out of place.

Through the doors, the warmth of this gorgeous lobby felt like a serious contrast to the grunge from outside. A lot like a hotel lobby—kind of like the one at the US Grant—these polished marble floors held most of the light around. Chocolate brown of the patterned wood everywhere, that was what made this place feel so warm and homely, even if the flooring and lighting made things look more upmarket than that. And the lighting itself—it came from the hanging beams of chrome along the ceiling, lit up with lights at the end like flashlights, but gathered together as an avant-garde chandelier.

There were a few people sitting around here in the lobby, reading their e-magazines, browsing their omni-tools, and watching the Alliance News Network broadcast on the TV screens along the walls. The clerk behind the desk didn't pay me any mind, too busy arguing on the phone over some maintenance ticket a resident had put in, to fix their broken mirror. The damage to the mirror was apparently way too much for the apartment managers to pay for on their own, but the resident wasn't willing to budge, either. So now the clerk was pissed that she was stuck in the middle of the whole thing.

Who would break a mirror like that and seriously expect the apartment managers to pay for it?

At the central elevator, I pressed the up button and waited. Next to me, a janitor tried to get rid of some vandalism on the wall: someone had spray painted the Cerberus logo there, just to be a dick. The janitor grumbled the whole time, muttering about stupid kids, terrorists, and fascists. I couldn't blame him.

Inside the elevator, I went up to the 34th floor. Alone in here, I listened to the faint hum of the machinery taking me up. Listening to this one thing that should have calmed me, I felt myself shaking a little, nerves flooding my chest, my stomach. It wasn't even those bad memories from that elevator bothering me. It was from…being here.

Being here, so close to where I should've been all along.

And I trembled a bit more, from how weird this was—

How I just…knew where to go.

Leaving the elevator on the right floor, I headed down the carpeted hallway. Warmer woods, fancy wallpaper, and a dark pattern in the carpet that somehow reminded me of flashing neurons in the human brain: I felt a more sterile, scientific homeliness here. The wood and chrome on each of the doors I passed, they all had that extra adornment of a red light, of the lock of their door controls.

At apartment 3434, I stared at that red—wanting, needing, and hoping—before pressing the doorbell:

Not long after, the door slid open.

Shepard stepped outside with me, letting the door slide back behind her.

Not looking surprised to see me at all, she kept her head down, subdued.

Hair down as usual, and so very at home, Shepard only had on a boyish white tank top over her sports bra, a pair of black sweatpants, and pure white socks. I got to see this shape of her arms, how chiseled she was without much raw muscle at all. So slim, she had a pair of under armor pants on beneath her sweats. Like she had just gotten out of bed, one of her leg pants ran up halfway over her shin, showing the tightness of the gray fabric underneath.

I had no idea why that one thing was so sexy to me.

Remembering myself, I held Shepard's heated face in my hands.

Not wanting to overwhelm her, I only gave her a short kiss, as a thank you—for the gifts, for everything.

And I felt her welcome in this persistent pull from her lips, from her touch, from her, here with me.

Still holding her face, I whispered over her glowing skin, "I missed you, Shepard… I missed you so much."

"Ash…"

"What's wrong?" I asked. "You haven't been yourself these days. You have to know that I'm worried…"

Shepard shook her head, like she didn't want to talk about it.

Then she held my hand, guiding me inside the spacious apartment with her:

That smell of her, everywhere, and this ethereal golden light beaming through the windows.

"Welcome back, Commander Shepard," greeted the artificial voice of her home's VI, linked to her security system. Welcome back, since she had only stepped outside. It was so sentimental and sweet.

With that voice, the light beamed through the windows more, as the blinds raised up automatically.

I could hardly take in this feeling of Shepard taking my jacket off for me, dazed as I was by her home.

Eye-catching, she had more of those chrome beams over her ceiling—shorter, thicker, these stayed there in the same avant-garde styling from the longer ones in the lobby, so fashionable.

From where I stood with her now at the entrance, we were on top of a cold, shining, chrome-like surface that extended up to her wall—at least over here, and down the few steps leading to the kitchen to the left of the door, and again, down the dozen or so steps leading off to the living room and the rest.

That kitchen was shaped like a hallway: not too big, but with just enough space to have space. Carved out behind a door frame with shining dark wood sculpted in more of this city's ultramodern style, I saw how neat and organized everything was in Shepard's kitchen. And so simple: a single refrigerator at the end of the space, a single sink on the right side with an open slot in the wall showing the living room, and near-empty shelves and cabinets on the left side. She had her alcohol, though—wines, champagnes.

Shepard had knelt down at some point to take off my boots for me, since I was too distracted to do it myself. I managed to lean against the cold surface of the chrome behind me, still looking around.

The living room itself had a few of those tall windows along the far wall, shining that pale gold mist through here. The light illuminated the long table running across that wall, beneath the windows, holding up a bunch of Shepard's old sniper rifles, all spaced out in such an orderly way. A little bit out of my view with the kitchen in the way, I saw a huge TV screen along the wall adjacent to those windows. It was still powered off, so she definitely hadn't been in here watching it or anything.

More than the TV, I felt my attention stuck on the layers of shelves all along that same wall, surrounding the screen and rising up to the moderately high ceiling. On those shelves, Shepard had centuries'-worth of video games there, both the games and plenty of consoles on display. Mint condition, perfectly boxed and sealed, and all well-taken care of: even I could tell that her collection had to be worth a fortune.

Done with my boots, and standing again, Shepard said, "Are you hungry, babe? I can make dinner for us if you want. I was about to start looking for something anyway when you got here…"

Grinning, I replied, "If you're cooking, sure. Thanks, Skipper."

"Do you have a taste for anything in particular?" she asked, leading me to the kitchen with her.

"Hmm, how about seafood again?" I suggested.

Shepard washed her hands at the sink. "You liked that shrimp last night," she noted. "I can make some. I usually only eat steamed white rice as a side thing. It's boring, I know—but safe. Will that work for you?"

"Sounds perfect!"

"All right, then."

Watching Shepard here at home, in her own kitchen, this all felt so satisfying to me. She was still subdued for those same reasons of hers, but I could tell she was at least a little more comfortable here. I only wished I could have watched her make everything from scratch: she apparently already had some shrimp pre-seasoned in her refrigerator. So all she had to do was put everything in her smart oven, letting it cook the way she wanted it to on its own—the timer read half an hour.

Once she was done with that, Shepard washed her hands again. She led me out the kitchen, down those dozen or so chrome steps, and into the living room. Basking in this light, I almost didn't notice there was some kind of guest room connected to the rightmost wall, opposite the TV. And near the TV itself, there was another short hall, probably leading to her master bedroom.

Shepard turned the TV on. "Sorry I don't have a dining room table, by the way," she told me. "We'll have to sit on the couch. Is there anything you want to watch? I need to take a shower. It's been a long day…"

I just noticed that she didn't have a dining room table, like she said. All she had in the living room, besides that table with her sniper rifles, was a low coffee table, a single, long couch, and a separate chair, all matching the chocolate brown of the woods, the cold chrome of the walls in duality.

Seeing that she had it on the news, I said, "This is fine for now. I actually…wanted to look around for a bit first, while you're in the shower. If that's okay. Your place is really nice."

"You can look around if you want," allowed Shepard. "The remote's there on the table if you need it."

Cautious, I asked, "Is there anything you don't want me to see? Something that's off-limits?"

Shepard thought about it and replied, "If it's sitting out, you can look at it. I don't mind." She glanced me over. "I like what you picked out for today. It suits you." Hesitating for a bit, she left down that hall to her bedroom. "I won't be long. We can watch something once I'm back, then head out after we eat."

"Head out where?" I wondered.

Stopping to turn and look at me, all she gave me was, "You'll see, babe."

Too curious for my own good, I could only wonder more as she disappeared down the hall.

I really wished she would open up to me about whatever was wrong…

Shepard had to know that I was here for her; that I wanted to support her.

But I already knew I couldn't push it, otherwise I might've pushed her away instead.

Sighing, I wandered over to her video game collection along the wall. I tuned out the news story that was on—the Alliance News Network yet again—talking about some asari, Nassana Dantius, who worked at the Citadel, and the weird sob story she had about her criminal sister supposedly screwing her over.

Then again, that name sounded familiar… Nassana Dantius.

I kept thinking back to an asari on the Presidium, trying to buy Shepard off in exchange for handling that dirty business with her shady sister. And Shepard had brushed her off, not at all interested in the bribe money. Yeah, I remembered now. Too bad—it sounded like we could've helped somehow. Oh well.

Here over the wall, Shepard had her games organized by type and genre.

The largest section of her shelves, she'd dedicated to stealth video games. I saw a bunch of the same titles over and over again, with sequels and spin-offs across all sorts of systems—Hitman, Deus Ex, Thief, Assassin's Creed, Splinter Cell… Across from those, she had grouped what I guessed were Japanese games even with some English titles—Yakuza, Shin Megami Tensei, Final Fantasy, NieR, Drakengard, Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice…

I was a little disappointed that she didn't have any first-person shooter games, or sports games. I used to play both of those with Dad when he was still alive. He and I were super casuals and just played whatever popular, annualized FPS or sports game that had recently come out during any given year—Call of Duty, Madden, Battlefield. Even though I was pretty good at them, I'd avoided video games for the longest, since they reminded me of Dad, making me miss him. But I could laugh now, wondering if Shepard would turn her nose up at me if she knew that we'd only played those casual games.

Completely random, one of Shepard's other games caught my eye, grouped with her Japanese ones.

This beautiful white box art of a bright, detailed, hand-drawn, watercolor-like goddess…

Final Fantasy XI Online: Wings of the Goddess Expansion Pack.

Wings of the Goddess…

I raised my hand to the sealed box, touching the in-tact plastic there.

She knew…

Shepard knew all this time—that she had a piece of my family's history here. This had to be the game!

I used my omni-tool to take a picture of it, saving this to my memories.

Hoping this wasn't too weird, I took a few pictures of the rest of Shepard's apartment, too. I wanted something to remember it by—something to look back to once we were off on the Normandy again.

I headed into the guest area next, finding an office space that doubled as a bedroom. Right across from the doorway, Shepard had a desk with her private terminal there. On the desk, she didn't have any pictures or anything. No knick-knacks. Nothing. Just her terminal, and hardcover books in neat stacks:

Lies My Teacher Told Me: The Truth About America's Racist Roots

Handling Your New Tactical Cloak Implants

Whitewashing the USA – A Journey Through Time

Anger Management

Beauty is Pain: Why We Idolize Fashion Models

Finding Zen in Meditation

I touched the spines of each book, lingering here in the light next to the window.

I couldn't help feeling like I had so much more to learn about Shepard, about her life, her values.

And I did want to learn. More than anything. I wanted to know everything about her—good and bad.

Across from the window, and along that wall there, Shepard had a low bed there, the pillows and comforter made together neatly. Untouched, as if no one had slept there in a long time, in years.

Next to the bathroom, I saw a long dresser with a bunch of datapads organized on the surface:

Letters dating back years ago, all of them addressed to Shepard—mostly Alliance correspondences, like from Captain Anderson, or her other commanding officers from the past, praising her work ethic, her attention to detail, her dedication, and her professional leadership. I smiled at these, glad that Shepard valued things like this. She cared about her place in the military, and she took it seriously.

At the top of one of these piles of datapads, I found a more personal letter addressed to her. From the date written here, it looked like the person mailed this to her during our current mission, not long after Eden Prime. She must have collected it recently while we were here, picking up her old mail all at once.

Looking back over my shoulder, I wasn't sure if I should read this. I picked it up, second-guessing myself.

But it was sitting out here in the open…

Shepard,

I believe that is what I should call you now, like everyone else. No more special treatment for me, hm?

It's been ages, I know. I'm surprising myself in writing this to you. I hope that this letter does not stir up any unwelcome emotions. Writing these words—it has certainly stirred up a thing or two for me. Mostly because we didn't exactly leave things on the best note. We didn't get the chance to truly put things to pasture. But perhaps that is what you wanted, since you disappeared with no explanation. Again.

You had disappeared before. Blocked me, devastated me. I thought that the last time would be the same: you would come back, and we could continue on. That was foolish of me to think, wasn't it?

Either way, I wanted to send you my congratulations. I saw on the news recently that you've become the first human Spectre. That is quite the accomplishment! I also watched the vid of your induction, with your team standing proudly behind you. Listening to your speech to the Council, it nearly brought me to tears, as that was precisely the woman I knew of you years ago. You have certainly grown into a massive personality across the galaxy, despite your reticence. I do wonder how you deal with all the (unwanted) attention. I can see you scowling over it now.

I can only hope that you've found some way to move past things. Things with me, and with your solitude. You have always been prone to be alone, preferring your space to the company of others. That space undoubtedly complicated our relationship for the longest. I could never tell if I was meant to run after you, or if doing so was actually a grave mistake. You seemed to punish me for my caution and my boldness both. I felt as if there was absolutely nothing I could do to please you. It was maddening.

I remember preparing to propose to you anyway, with that madness, wishing to be your wife. You devastated me when you didn't show up. I should have known then. But I persisted, because I loved you more than anything. I was…so madly in love. I kept trying. That was all I knew; you were all I knew.

If I'm honest, that madness still haunts me today. I still see the same colours of that madness in my nightmares every so often, dressed as your sunlight. It is part of what caused me to write to you.

So if this is unsolicited, then please forgive me. You know how very nosey I am. That's not changed.

And I know you've moved on. Retreated back to your solitude, your one true love and protection. After all this time, it does still sting, knowing that I could never compete with the obsessions you keep. I wasn't good enough for you. Simple as that. Simple, but ruthless in how much it lingers and hurts, even now.

You always did resent me for my contradictions. I must give you another—one last time—by wishing you luck in finding something to pull you out of your solitude. Whether it is your work in the military, your video games, or a new woman who will be more than good enough, I want only the very best for you.

Perhaps she will not be as cautious as I was. Perhaps she will not be as perfect as you claimed I wanted to be. And perhaps she will not need to control you in the ways I craved for us in trust. But I do know that she will be unexpected, entering your life at maybe an inopportune time for you, at first. And I know that she will be beautiful, both inside and out—she will challenge you, and she will push you to new heights, to become even greater than you are today. She will believe in you to make the impossible possible.

That last, I continue to do, even across this great distance. I believe in you as the galaxy's best and brightest, Commander. Certainly its brightest star and sun both. You have illuminated my life, leaving a long shadow behind me. Yet I will forever treasure all that you have given me in your brilliant intensity.

Love,

J

Reading this now, for myself, I felt this person watching me from somewhere, somehow.

Not with that same vibe from the hotel—of someone stalking me, stalking the team.

I only felt this person over my shoulder, observing me. And even then, she seemed so familiar to me, like I had met her before, but as someone else. I knew that this was Shepard's ex—the only ex of hers that she had told me about. From her words, I had a feeling I knew who she was. I remembered her face, her clothes, her status, from gossip magazine pictures of Shepard holding her hand at expensive venues: a high-profile international lawyer from out of the country. But there was more to it than that.

At least from the way she wrote, from the way she loved, her voice definitely sounded familiar enough…

As much as I thought I knew her, maybe she really did know me, too.

I held that familiarity close, setting her letter back where I'd found it, as carefully as I could.

I was about to leave this guest room. Then I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye.

Through to the off-white hexagonal tiles of the bathroom, the cylindrical, pod-like shower in the corner, and the long sink along the wall, I saw it:

That memory of an impact, shattering outward from one spot, like wide, cracked rays of glass sunlight.

That memory was right here in this broken glass. That broken mirror.

I should have been afraid.

I should have left this room, letting those fears get the better of me.

Instead, I looked at the glass—really looked at it—before jumping to conclusions.

It would've been too easy for me to believe that this happened recently. Looking over the mirror now, I could tell that this had been here for a while: thick layers of dust had collected along the fractured lines. More layers, of mist from countless warm showers in here—those also lay over the glass, obscuring my reflection way past the damage here already.

This had definitely been here for a long time. Maybe even years.

I wondered why Shepard had decided now was the best time to get this repaired?

Since it sounded like her apartment managers didn't want to pay to get it fixed, this was here to stay.

Along the counters and shelves around the sink, I noticed all the meds Shepard had here out in the open. Normal painkillers for headaches, and allergy medicine. A bunch of specialized painkillers to deal with the strain from keeping her tactical cloak activated for too long. I also saw some protein bars specifically for muscle gain, ignored and unopened. Checking the packaging on these, they'd expired years ago. Some of these had even gone bad a decade ago, but I couldn't smell them or anything.

Feeling like I would be back here specifically at some point, I finally left the guest area.

I went through the living room, past the TV still on the news, and past the opening of the kitchen, smelling the spices over the shrimp that was almost done cooking.

I followed the sounds of the running shower leading me to Shepard's master bedroom.

A smooth, soothing chill here found me right away, that scent of hers strongest in here.

Just like Shepard herself, this chill still managed to warm me up somehow, feeling like home to me.

More tall windows, more lights of gold, she had the perfect view of the city from here, lighting this space instead of an actual, dedicated electrical light anywhere. Taller buildings off in the distance, scowling and brooding just like always, the lights from the start of nighttime glittered out there.

Still listening to the sounds of water coming from her closed bathroom door, I took a closer look at her windows. I felt…uneasy as I walked over to the windowsill, sensing something there. Like Shepard had rejected someone—gently, understanding. And I saw this thing here, this piece that made me frown: a picture in a frame, sitting here on this windowsill, shadowed by the haze filtering in through the glass—

A picture of Shepard and Liara at the Citadel, on the Presidium together, smiling at each other in peace.

I scowled darker than the night so far, leaving the picture be. And those traces of rejection there, too…

Here in this early night, Shepard's full-sized bed surprised me. She had just enough space for herself and one other person—and no more. Nothing extra. Nothing more than she absolutely needed. But she still had a bunch of comfortable-looking pillows there against the dark brown of the headboard, darker than the chocolate of her walls. Dull gold of her comforter, and the plush of those pillows, I could see her getting lost in that space, falling away from this apartment, from this city, from this planet altogether.

Next to her bed, she had two nightstands at either side, the same color wood as her headboard. That same shade, I saw in her dresser styled in more modernism, just like her bed, and these nightstands.

The nightstand closest to the door caught my attention.

She only had one thing sitting here…

Another picture, framed, but bigger.

This picture…was of us. Shepard and me. Somehow, this was from when we were on Noveria, on that tram from Central Station to Rift Station. Shepard sat next to me in her stealth suit, with her ankle crossed over her knee and her arm spread out opposite me, like she did whenever she was comfortable and showing off. I was right next to her in my dark camouflage armor at the time, with my legs crossed, trying so hard to keep everything in: how ecstatic I was that we had spent time together on the way there, and that I'd gotten through to her, even kissed her in the middle of a high-priority mission.

The way we looked at each other here, it was way obvious we had something on our minds. It was only for a second—I remembered. Only for a second that I'd met her eyes like this, and she'd met mine the same way. That second had been so perfect for me, capturing everything I wanted. I could never forget.

Tali must have taken this… She was sitting across from us at the time, checking her omni-tool.

I definitely needed to ask her if she had more of these.

As soon as I heard the shower water turn off from Shepard's bathroom, I bolted back down the hall.

Yeah, she gave me permission to look around freely, but I somehow doubted that included her room.

Knowing her, she would know that I was in there anyway…

I went back to the living room, sitting down on the couch; still smelling that incredible progress from her cooking so far. Since the next football game wasn't on tonight, I browsed through Shepard's most-watched programs. It was just the Alliance News Network here—or the fashion channel. That was it.

Laughing over how she was such a simple person, I checked the fashion channel to see what was on.

Dark clothes, dark-skinned models, bright backgrounds: this looked like a runway show. Smaller-scale and more intimate than the ones I was used to seeing, the models walked along a winding path in between those glamorous-looking people in the audience sitting in their chairs. No one ever clapped or anything—they just watched with a deep fascination, adoring every single look there on display. And those outfits were really pretty, the black there sculpted as structured ruffles or long, flowing gowns…

This music hypnotized me, too. Strong, dark beats with a real purpose, like the models' strutting.

All of this reminded me of a certain someone; made me wish that this someone would get back into the industry, at least every now and then on the side for fun…if she did enjoy it like that.

I couldn't know how long I'd spent watching this before Shepard herself came back in here, finding me with my eyes practically glued to the screen. Dressed in something like what she had on earlier, but with a short-sleeved T-shirt this time, she didn't pull my attention away on purpose. She might have smiled at me—I wasn't sure—before heading to the kitchen to finish up with dinner.

I still wasn't all there once Shepard set a bottle of wine on the coffee table, along with two glasses.

And I wasn't quite there once Shepard came back again, this time with two steaming plates of broiled shrimp and white rice—one for her, and one for me—as her simple specialty.

Amused, she interrupted me, "Ashley, it's ready."

"Oh!" I said, taking the plate of food she'd made for me. "Sorry for spacing out there… Thanks, Skipper! This looks amazing. Didn't realize how hungry I was until now."

Sitting next to me, and pouring our wine into the glasses, Shepard asked, "Have you eaten at all today?"

"Um…ice cream?"

"Babe, that's not food…"

"I know," I admitted. "Trust me, I know… I was just—depressed. And frustrated. Eating my feelings."

Shepard watched me eat first, knowing that I enjoyed it. And I really, really did—even though I felt this reminder of that knife twisting through my heart. I never wanted to feel that again. But I knew I would. I was bound to, especially with her habits, with the way I needed her so much.

I was so tired of thinking, of worrying…

Eating this food Shepard had made for me, and drinking more of this same moscato I remembered from her birthday at midnight, I stared at the TV without thinking. Only worrying. I worried and worried, because that was all I could do. Because even though Shepard was here next to me, finally, it felt like we were worlds apart. Like she had something on her mind, so pressing, and she wouldn't share it with me.

Yet here I was anyway, loving her great cooking, and loving her limited company, despite everything.

For some reason, I wasn't even scared that I would end up like her ex. Her exes. Any of them, at all.

What scared me the most…was that I knew I would stay in love with Shepard regardless, regardless of anything that might've happened. I had no way out. I was in too deep at this point. I wanted her, I wanted everything with her, everything imaginable and unimaginable. No one could compare to her.

So then she would keep running, and running, and running, and I would stay after her…

Out of the blue, Shepard looked at me and asked, "Who are you at your worst, Ash?"

Snapping out of my thoughts a bit, I shifted them to this odd question, to give her my honest answer:

"It depends… Everyone says that I'm like fire. I feel like I could burn everything down if I had to. Burn it all to the ground. Maybe because I felt like it…or maybe because I didn't care. If I really lost myself somehow, then…I'd want to watch the world burn. For no reason. Just to see it burn. Just because."

"Just because you could?" guessed Shepard.

"Yeah… Just because I could," I repeated. "You know, to have some kind of control again. Some."

"Because it's your decision," she guided, taking my empty plate, my empty glass from my hands.

"It is my decision," I agreed, watching her set my plate on top of hers, over the table, with the glasses.

"Do you feel powerless with me, Ashley?"

"No, Shepard. I don't. Not when I'm around you again."

Puzzling over my answer, she asked, "Why not?"

"Because it's my decision to be here," I asserted. "It's always my choice. I never feel forced into anything with you, like it's out of my control. You make me feel safe, like I'm honestly at home for the first time in my life. Like I don't have to keep…moving around anymore. So, whatever happens, I'll follow you."

Shepard knew that kind of sounded like a contradiction, but she accepted my answer anyway.

She pulled me closer to her, lying us down over the couch. This time, she held me in her arms, letting me listen to her heartbeats, how slow and steady they were. And she felt exactly like home, exactly like before, but more—like I didn't have to worry about anything…except for our actual reality.

I wanted to change that.

It felt like Shepard was so close to something with me. Like all I had to do was say the right thing, be in the right place at the right time, and she would…go for it.

God, I wished I could have just read her mind…

That would've made things so much easier for me. But nothing could ever be easy or simple with her—except for the times when they were, when it was part of who she was.

I felt my heart pounding so badly with how much I needed her—how I needed her so much closer to me.

Staring out the windows at that golden heaven of her blood, I whispered, "I love you, Shepard."

Her heart picked up to the exact same pace as mine.

The exact same, plain as a metronome, as two separate, opposite songs in-sync with one another.

But she only gave me dissonance: "…I know."

I curled into her, holding her tighter. Closer, tighter. So much closer than I could ever fathom. Because I didn't want to feel this pain alone. Not anymore. If Shepard was going to hurt me like this, then I needed her to be here. I needed her in front of me, with her arms around me. I needed her to feel this in me, or not at all, because it was getting so much harder to deal with this on my own, without her.

All of that—or most of it—dissolved once Shepard held me even closer. She shifted around enough to stand up from the couch; to pick me up with her, again, so out of the blue. Novelty of this free feeling going strong, I let her carry me down the hallway, through to her room, to the comforting chill there.

Right away, I knew this wasn't about sex. Shepard wasn't spontaneous like this, and I had already told her I didn't want to lose my virginity to her in a bed. Besides, she wasn't lustful in any sense, so much as she was unpredictable and unreadable at the moment…but maybe in a good way.

Setting me down in the welcoming embrace of her pillows, she placed me on her bed, in the center.

Shepard crawled on top of me, the white of her T-shirt hanging down a bit to show her tank top underneath, and the bends and slopes of her slender neck and shoulders there. Keeping her face close enough to mine, she studied me for a bit, watching me watch her, watching the way I did it: waiting for her without any expectations whatsoever.

I wanted everything, and I did expect certain things from her…but right now, I chose to set that aside.

It was my decision. For her. And I knew she saw it. I knew she could tell.

"Ashley, there's something you should know," began Shepard. "Then again, maybe you already do. You've probably already figured it out."

Gazing at her with eyes wide with hope, I breathed out, "What is it…?"

Maybe unrelated from what I wanted in the moment, she confirmed, "Tonight…is the last night of shore leave. I'm expecting another call from the Council by tomorrow morning. They're supposed to contact me about a priority briefing for our next mission. We're hot on Saren's trail. Only a matter of time now."

"Oh… Okay, then," I accepted, remembering that we even had a mission at all. "The others kind of figured it out, like you said. I'll… I'll be ready, once it's time to head out again. You can count on me."

When it seemed like she expected me to say something else, and when I didn't, Shepard sighed.

She lowered her head, the shine of her hair dulled in this lighting.

Still so free of expectations, I gathered her hair in my hands. Like reversing a waterfall, I tangled this silken softness in my hands just enough to keep everything behind her shoulders, holding her here.

And then, right with my touch, Shepard started shaking from her shoulders on down.

Only a bit, so beautiful in her rare vulnerability.

As persistent as this calm, reliable silence in her room, she had more to say to me:

"Ashley," she said, a little harder than she intended. "Tonight…is the last night…of shore leave."

"You said that already," I reminded her, gentle, even though she probably didn't need reminding.

Shaking her head at me in light amusement, Shepard gave me one expectation back: "You said that you would wait until shore leave is over—but we have a mission directly after this. We might not have enough time to talk freely afterward… So, it would be better if you gave me your answer…soon. Now."

Dazed all of a sudden, I wasn't sure if I'd heard her correctly.

Shepard saw it in my eyes.

She knew that I needed her to pin down this new reality.

She knew…that I needed her to ask me. The right way this time.

She sighed again, stabilizing, to stop herself from shaking. She tightened her arms, raising one of her hands to my face reddened under the controlled heat of her stare. She gave me that heaven, just in my reach, without letting me extend my arms out to her. She kept me here, needing me in this place, in this spot here before her, without moving, without letting her out of my sight—unblinking, unflinching.

"Maybe…it's symbolic," continued Shepard, deeper than before. "Symbolic that I first asked you when I couldn't see you, look into your eyes. And it's symbolic that I'm asking you again now, now that you're here at home with me—where you should've been all along." So much deeper, she stared into my eyes with hers, bottomless with her experiences that had all brought her here to confess: "Be with me, Ashley. I want you—all of you. I need you to be mine. Mine, and no one else's. Please…stay with me."

One more thing…

One more thing I needed—"Shepard…tell me the rest. Tell me. Say the words to me. I need you to…"

Leaning into me, hiding against me, Shepard thought she could avoid my eyes for this.

I turned to face her, her face against mine, searching for those words in her.

So close like this, the light from the room couldn't reach us, not all the way. That night vision of her eyes again, impossibly bright and full of color, full of life despite her fears: Shepard let me stay this close to her. She let me taste these beads of sweat building along the pores of her skin, the veiled red there fit to burst with her heart this near to mine.

"I only want to be with you, Ash," she said. "The thought of being with anyone else…it makes me feel sick to my stomach. Guilty." Absolute fulfillment, and almost to the rest; complete satisfaction, and almost to the universe—"And I want…everything we talked about. Everything we agreed on. Please…"

She wouldn't say it.

She wouldn't say it…but I wasn't about to tell her no because of this.

Not with the way she sounded: exactly like this heaven I'd always imagined of her, living and breathing.

I smiled with that heaven, and wrapped my arms all the way around her shoulders, pulling her into me.

Giving her this joyful smile over her mouth, I finally told her, "And my answer is yes… But you knew that already, didn't you?" Shepard let out an exhale, collapsing into her pillows beside me, and burying her face, like she was seriously surprised by this. "Hey! Shepard, did you really think I'd turn you down!?"

Shepard just grumbled into that fluff there, hiding from me again.

I laughed, getting as close to her face as I could. "Okay, you're being incredibly adorable right now… Still, I don't get it—how could you think I'd say no to you?"

Finding a way to breathe through her mouth, she mumbled out, "I've been…a jackass to you lately."

"Mmm, I wouldn't say that," I insisted. "Not a jackass. You've been distant, sure. Just not a jackass."

"That's bad enough, babe… I don't like hurting you. It hurts me when you're upset. I can't stand it."

Now definitely wasn't the time to get into the details about this.

Her reasons, her behavior—none of that mattered to me right now.

If this was just about her being too scared to tell me she loved me, then I could live with that.

And the last thing: we could figure out the contract later, after whatever this next mission was.

For now, I tried pulling her over to me, to kiss her. "Shepard, will you come here already?"

"…what for?"

I laughed again. "What do you mean, what for? What else?! I'm your girlfriend now, and you haven't kissed me enough. So come here!"

Shepard wouldn't budge. "Ashley…I'm no good at this," she admitted. "This is…ugh."

"You're acting like you're allergic to me all of a sudden," I teased. "Is it really that bad for you?"

She grumbled again.

I couldn't even be mad at her.

"This is honestly hilarious, Skipper," I told her in good fun. "Who knew you were so shy? I figured you just weren't affectionate at all, not—nervous about it. But I bet the second sex is involved, or you're back in your comfort zone some other way, those nerves disappear in a flash. Is this your kryptonite?"

"Babe, I'm not normally an affectionate person… At all."

"Normally?" I echoed, intrigued. "Am I—an exception?"

"Ash…"

"Shepard, if you won't come over here, then we have to talk instead. Rules are rules. Deal with it!"

Negotiating with me, she suggested, "Then why don't we talk while we're out instead? I still want to take you on another date tonight. The place may be a bit predictable, considering where we've already gone. I want to show you anyway. We won't get another chance for a while. What do you say?"

Never, ever would I forget Commander Shepard asking me out on a date while hiding her face in a bunch of pillows, all because she was too shy to make out with me in her bed like this.

"Okay then," I allowed, smiling way too much. "We'll go out, and then talk. And then you're gonna shut up at some point and kiss me. Do we have a deal this time?"

"Yes, babe," said Shepard, facing me now. "Where we're going, I'll do more than kiss you. Count on it."

"Wait a minute, what—?"

All of a sudden, Shepard buried me in this mountain of her pillows instead, ordering me, "Stay like this while I get changed. I'll only be a minute."

Buried here…yeah. "…we're seriously going to have to work on this shyness thing with you, Skipper."

Shepard only crawled out of bed and went over to her holo-closet, somewhere near her dresser.

But I could tell her mood had at least improved by now, despite how…weird she was, in a sweet way.

So I stayed here, buried here in this bliss of softness that smelled so much like Shepard, like her hair, like her home and her heart. I savored this, knowing that I wouldn't be back here with her for a while. I treasured this, making new memories as I listened to Shepard fit herself into another outfit for the night, for me, for more memories of us together, officially, for the very first time.

And in these passing moments, with time slipping away from me like water slipping through my fingers, I prayed that I wouldn't wake up from this dream.

And if it was all a dream, or just temporary somehow, I hoped that I never woke up from this.

Stitched to her now, in this wondrous pain—I never wanted to leave her side, intertwined in her skin.

Driving in Shepard's car again, driving back up to Coronado again—surprising me—she brought me to our destination for the night. On the way there, though, I took plenty of time to admire her, what she had picked out to wear, enjoying her through her blasting music as usual.

Holding her hand while she drove, Shepard kept my hand over her right leg again, over the tight faux leather there, the back of my hand resting along the golden zipper running across her front, each slot of gold linked together by hanging loops of more gold in the chains there. She had more of these shaped and patterned down her legs on both sides, those hanging chains chiming in her sexy confidence as she walked. Matching all, the almost-loose, almost-tight fit of her black sweater had a comfortable material along the front, with more leather over the back side shining in the city lights at night as we went.

Outside, after Shepard had parked, I kept my sight down at first, admiring her men's shoes. More leather, more black, the dull shine of her pointed ankle boots made her feet look a little bigger than they actually were. Perfect care of those squared tips—I could still tell that Shepard had owned these for a long time, having worn them across all sorts of places and situations, carrying her status forward in life.

She walked with a comfort about her in these, so classy and stylish even through the dirt of these busy streets: bending and clicking over the reality of this place, bending and clicking over our limited time.

Even with this limited time, I couldn't stop smirking to myself over her outfit. She cleaned up nice.

Holding my hand like always, Shepard guided me through these streets, knowing just where to go.

We passed by all kinds of electronics stores, open taco shops and bars, and even a gigantic brothel bustling in bright displays, those neon colors bursting through the dulled, dimmed golds around us. Lessened, less intense, and less brilliant, the outside lighting here seemed blunter, somehow, dimmed by the vague pollution from all the machinery everywhere, powering the buildings and the lights.

Even though these people passing us by weren't as glamorous as the ones I remembered from Fashion Valley, they weren't down-and-out or anything. The businesses here were packed with all kinds of customers. No one sitting out begging on the streets, thank God. No one looked like they needed help, or like they didn't know where to go. Just a few stray cats wandering around; people smiling at them.

As close as we were to the Alliance base here in Coronado, I actually saw a decent amount of military guys and girls around here instead. The usual meatheads, plenty of lanky, bright-eyed new guys, and even some polished upper-brass types wandered around in groups together, separated by status of course. They were either on shore leave in their Alliance fatigues, or taking the night off in their civilian clothes, dog tags still hanging from their necks in an obvious display of their duties and loyalties.

Of course, they stared at Shepard and me as we walked by, a lot of them stopping to get a better look.

A bunch of them were already in line at the building where Shepard meant to take me—and they stared so much harder as she brought me right to the front, skipping that long wait, again, just like before.

But even before I saw that line, or any of that staring, I felt the pervasive bass of the club's music deep in my chest, like it was part of me. Like it was somehow my lungs and my heart and the air here, loudening. I felt it more the closer we got to the tall building, the wide display of the eye-catching digital art playing out across the front: hanging above the line of people, a wave of golden light passed across the display, moving in-sync in a determined, thudding beat with the music blasting in loud vagueness out here.

Smooth, steady, and sexy in an edge of ego, confidence—this music reminded me of Shepard's outfit.

The sign in pale yellow letters over the chrome wall of the entrance read: The 94th Aero Squadron.

I could've sworn I'd heard some chatter about this place before in passing—just as the 94, though. Back when I served with the 212 on Eden Prime, some of my platoon members had been stationed here in San Diego, and they'd talked about this place. It apparently used to be a restaurant or something years back, but after the city started changing—gentrification up in the main city, forcing those with less money to live down here—the 94 had evolved into a club that still brought those worlds together.

From what I could tell, enlisted soldiers and officers alike enjoyed this place, even if the line was long.

Bringing us closer to that beat thundering through my chest, Shepard took us to the double doors.

A scarred, suited bouncer spoke in a deep, intimidating voice, "Good to see you again, Commander Shepard. You and your beautiful lady can go right in. Your private VIP spot's waiting for you."

"Thanks," replied Shepard, opening the heavy door of chrome for me herself with ease.

As soon as we made it inside, that bass became me, blending with my breaths for all I knew.

Shepard shifted, keeping her hand along the small of my back in protectiveness. She stayed close to me, half of her body behind mine as she breathed close to my hair, alert as she guided me this way instead.

This wide open mezzanine with booths interconnected in the center: black and chrome everywhere, so much of it in the surfaces, lit again by a similar digital display on the high wall undulating that gold across. And so many people here, civilians and military both: hanging out together in blended groups near the booths and at the bar near the stairs, drinking together at that bar and checking out everyone who walked by, and dancing together next to the DJ booth protected behind bulletproof glass.

But, knowing Shepard, she of course didn't have us linger here. She guided me behind that bar, over to those stairs, the stairwell itself wide enough for plenty of tall tables with bar stools off to the side. Plenty of other people sitting at those tables stared after us as we went, recognizing us both from this close. I heard their gossip and wonderings, sure enough, and from there it started to spread across the club.

Caring and subtle, Shepard caressed my lower back with her nails, acknowledging the inevitable.

I smiled over it, glad that she was proud of me like this.

I also liked that it wasn't too loud here. We could have an actual conversation without talking over any noise or anything like that. The club's sound system prioritized the bass more than the music itself, really. This place reminded me of those fun drives in Shepard's car with her own music blasting.

We soon made it through this hallway of stairs and tables, making it to a circular balcony area overlooking the rest of the club, the mezzanine below. Here, I saw a bunch of officers, mostly, sitting along the low, comfortable seats connected to the smooth, dark walls: girls sitting on guys' laps, drinking, flirting, and laughing, and even some gay couples doing the same, all in one place, together.

Wrapping around this circle was another path leading to a different, brighter, bigger bar with way more space to sit or stand around nearby. I smiled again once Shepard led me in that direction. We hadn't gotten the chance to at least have a drink together when we were at Dark Goddess back on Thessia…

And maybe for good reason, since I still couldn't remember everything that had happened that night.

Not too far away, just beneath the bass, I heard a group of guys speaking in Spanish together.

Since the music was in the way, my translation program couldn't piece their words together in English.

And one of those guys, I noticed him eyeing me from where he stood with his friends, close to the bar.

Leaning against the wall, I saw that he was freaking ripped: gigantic, iron-thick muscles, with his tanned skin contrasting against the ink of his sharp tattoos along his neck and his arms. He had his black hair styled in a typical meathead haircut: cropped near his neck, short at the top, and with a short, stubby fauxhawk at the top. Running down from his sideburns, he had a nicely-groomed beard—not too thick, and not too shadowy. Somehow I could tell he was about my age, or maybe even the same age as me.

The light gray of his Alliance shirt stuck to him, skin-tight, almost like it was wet. Just like how his big, dark eyes had stuck to me. He licked his thick lips, smirking; watching me with that obvious intent of his.

His friends jostled him—talking in Spanish, they probably asked what he thought of me or whatever.

But they all knew he couldn't say anything to me, picking up right away that I was Shepard's girlfriend.

And he was cute… Any other time, I might have wanted him to come over here, to introduce himself.

I was insulated from all of that now—happily loved-up and taken!

Still curious about his language, I turned my head toward Shepard right behind me, asking her, "Hey, Skipper, do you hear those guys over there? They're speaking Spanish, aren't they?"

"I hear them," she murmured in my ear. "It's not too surprising. We're kind of close to the soft border leading to Mexico. Tijuana is right there. Spanish might as well be the primary language around here."

"Yeah, I heard," I replied, noticing her fluent accent—Tijuana. "Does that mean you speak it, too?"

"I'm bilingual. I learned it out on the streets and in school. Plenty of my friends were Mexican, Puerto Rican, and Dominican. You can't really escape the culture around here. It's all blended together."

"So you can pretty much get along with anyone, huh? Fit in anywhere, like a chameleon?"

Shepard chuckled. "If I wanted to. If I had to. I guess you could say my upbringing was international."

Grinning like crazy, I had to request, "Tell me something, then. Untranslated. I'll turn off my programs!"

"Hmm…all right, babe," allowed Shepard, already thinking of what to say. "Sit down first."

Here beneath the near-white lights of this upscale bar, Shepard had me sit on one of the seats.

Far enough away from other people, but still in-view of those guys checking us out—or really only me—I smiled over the insane collection of alcohol there behind the glass cabinets. And I smiled more once Shepard ordered a sangria for me, already knowing what I wanted. She didn't get anything for herself, maybe not yet, but I wanted her to. She was a little too busy thinking about what to say to me in Spanish. So, in that sense, I could forgive her for not drinking with me…yet.

While the bartender made my drink behind me, Shepard kept an eye on him.

She leaned closer to me, standing over me; looming, almost, and just as protective as ever…possessive, even, while she breathed next to my ear again. Always so subtle with her, never quite overt or off-putting: Shepard took advantage of her height over me, darkening my sight to her and only her. This power of hers, she held over me, shielding me and blocking me off from everyone and everything else.

Slavish of me, maybe, in the way I enjoyed this—how I loved this limited perception, of actually perceiving so much more because she was here with me.

Just to show her I was serious about this, I did turn off my translation programs.

I needed her raw…for once, for the first time.

"Ashley, are you sure about this?" she whispered to me, low and deep. "I might surprise you."

Grinning over the way she excited me, I whispered right back, "Oh, yeah?"

Shepard breathed a little harder, her neck's pulse picking up just next to me, so heated. "Yeah, I just might," she challenged. "If you do pick up on anything I say, you have to promise you won't look it up right away. Save it for later. I want to keep some of my mystery for now, babe…if you don't mind."

Needing her even closer, I held her around her shoulders, loving the way these lights dazzled her hair.

Breathing hotter now, Shepard let me do this, let me control her a bit while I held her here, so insulated.

"Maybe I want you to surprise me," I teased, matching her heat, just as deep. "You are mysterious in all the best ways… Doesn't mean you're not allowed to have a soft side. I know you're way sweeter and more sensitive than you let on—and I love that about you…"

Shepard flexed her arm supporting her against the bar, grunting. "You're not making this easy on me."

I laughed softly.

"And why would I do that, Shepard? Since when do I ever give you an easy way out?"

She exhaled hardest, her pulse picking up louder and stronger than the bass of the music around us.

"Talk to me, then," I requested, again. "Impress me. Seduce me in Spanish, Shepard. Stop holding back for once. For me." She wanted to move away: anxious, uncertain. "Come on, I know you have it in you…"

Every single one of her breaths felt amplified against my ear, yet I still heard her so clearly:

"Eso que antes nunca comprendí, contigo, todo es claro ante mis ojos. Te deseo tanto, tantísimo. Eres mi corazón, mi aire y mi fuego. No puedo respirar sin ti. Con todo eso, Ashley, te amo completamente, plenamente."

I had no idea what she just said…but like her breaths, still going, I felt her intentions, melting me.

I needed her to keep doing it to me, to keep going for me—"You sound so beautiful. Say that again…"

"Ash, no me entiendes, pero quería decirte esta noche: te amo completamente."

Falling away with her, she had me so fucking wet over this—"God, please say it again…"

"Yo te amo, Ashley. Completamente. Me encanta tu belleza por dentro y por fuera. Eres mi diosa."

"Shepard… I seriously wish you'd tell me what all of that means… Won't you give me anything?"

"Not this time, babe," she dodged, soaking me more when she kissed me, so suave. "Your drink's ready." Shepard brought the tall, rounded glass of red sangria closer to me: sliced fruits floating at the top, as that deceptive sweetness. "Sit here for a minute. I'm going to tell the other bouncers nearby to keep holding our area for now. Something tells me you might want to stay here for a while first."

I wondered if she knew: "Something, huh?"

"Mm-hmm—something." Shepard kissed me again, sweeter this time. "I'll be right back."

Turning around on this barstool, I moved in-time with Shepard walking away, walking off to talk to the bouncers standing guard next to a nearby door. And that non-military walk of hers, so poised and self-assured, like she knew exactly what she was worth—I could hardly contain myself as I watched her go.

I turned all the way around to at least try my drink, keeping Shepard in my periphery.

Chilled at just the right temperature, I loved this balance of fruit and red wine, somehow even better than the last one I'd had the other night. Better…and a bit stronger than I was used to. Maybe because this was a human drink, humans just knew how to make it taste the best. This human bartender kept looking at me, though, like he wanted to say something—possibly about that same group of Alliance guys still standing around nearby, with that one musclehead in particular still checking me out. Sort of.

He wasn't as obvious as he was before, probably discouraged by, well, reality.

He seemed like he was perfectly fine just standing there, staring at me for the rest of the night.

As long as he didn't come over here trying to talk to me, I guessed it didn't really matter what he did.

I talked to the bartender anyway, ordering a glass of moscato for Shepard, mostly for something to do. I had the weirdest feeling that that guy was somehow gathering up the courage to come talk to me. I wasn't sure if he still wanted to hit on me, or if he only wanted to know if I was here on a date with Commander Shepard—the one, the only. I knew he'd at least recognized her by now, if not me directly.

Before I knew it, I heard the chiming sounds of Shepard's hanging chains—she was back already.

She sat down on the barstool next to me, facing me completely.

Intrigued by her eyes on me like this, I kept sipping my sangria.

Shepard leaned closer to me, speaking in my ear—self-possessed, and so sexy, "What's good, Ashley?"

Grinning again, her good mood had me feeling a little shy, a little girlish all at once. "Nothing…"

"Nothing, huh?" she humored, nodding to the bartender who handed her that moscato. "Looks like you've been up to something over here, buying me a drink. Thank you."

"Yep… Just wanted to pass the time. You know."

Sitting back in her seat now, Shepard asked, "Is he making you feel uncomfortable?"

I smiled over how much she paid attention to me like this. "Not uncomfortable… He's—persistent. I thought he was gonna come over here any minute."

Shepard drank her white wine, eyeing me. "I can go tell him to fuck off," she offered. "If you want."

"You don't have to," I replied, amused by how serious she was. "He seems harmless. Let him stare."

"Mmm, all right, then."

Sipping more of my drink, I was surprised that it had started hitting me already.

I thought I'd at least get halfway through the glass before I felt my head leaving me like this…

Not feeling the same with her harmless moscato, Shepard prompted me, "We can have that talk now, if you'd like." When all I did was smile more, she held my hand closest to her. "I'm more relaxed. In my element. Not nearly as shy as before. I don't mind opening up to you about this."

"Well, you should be more comfortable here," I reasoned, comforted by her touch. "Totally obvious this is your hunting ground. You practically own the place. I'm not the first girl you've brought here, am I?"

Shepard brought her lips over the back of my hand, so soothing. "You are, actually."

"Wait…really?"

"Yes, babe."

I drank more, weirded out by how much I believed her.

It had seemed so clear that Shepard would have brought some of her other girlfriends here. Or that she would've at least picked a girl up, brought her home… Then again, as closed-off as she tended to be, I couldn't imagine her having any one-night stands. And as stalker-like as it was, I didn't remember reading any gossip stories about Shepard bringing any of her exes to this club. So she wasn't lying.

Just like those lines in Spanish she'd given to me earlier, I felt something way deeper here…

Way, way more involved than she would tell me about, or even hint toward.

Full of patience, Shepard kept holding my hand, sipping her wine with her other one, gazing at me.

Yo te amo…shouldn't I have known what that meant? It sounded so simple. Common. Ugh, I was a little too tipsy to remember right now. It was on the tip of my tongue… And now I wanted Shepard between me, her tongue on me, giving me the meaning of that tongue of her second language—but only if she made a move tonight. I didn't want to make myself too obvious. I wanted her to seduce me, all the way.

Eres mi diosa…sounded familiar, too. Or at least diosa, like dios mío, which I knew meant my God…

"Shepard, when you spoke to me…did you call me your—goddess? Like in your note, with the roses…"

Pleased by my very limited comprehension, she confirmed, "I did say that. Among other things."

I felt myself blushing again—from how suave she was, from this alcohol.

Sweating, too, from all of this, especially with her eyes on me, so damn intense—I couldn't stand it.

Gentle, Shepard stroked my burning face, my crimson neck, telling me, "You know, sangre is Spanish for the word blood. Funny how the drink itself is so deceptively sweet. You get pulled in by the initial allure of that sweetness from the fruit, only for the red wine to kick in, get to your head… It's so strong—irresistible. It affects you. Changes you. More than you ever thought it could."

Her intentions were so clear to me…clearer than my head was right now.

Her intentions kept me sweating, kept me drinking while she drank, while she watched me like this.

Her intentions…had me breathing way too hard, my heart beating harder than this bass, this beat.

Completely unintentional, I barely realized that I'd finished my drink already. And Shepard had finished hers, too. She stared at me, at the way I couldn't look at her. She watched me as I felt my way back to reality, clinging to my perception of her to stay lucid. She decided that I wasn't drunk—right at that tipping point, that place where I could have gone over, if only I'd had another sip. One more. Just one.

All of these sounds around us, of languid conversation and sultry flirting, of the music beating through the marrow of our bones, of alcohol bottles popping and people dancing; all of these sights around us, of the golden haze of these lights, of the brighter ones from the bar, of that Alliance guy looking…kind of sad now as he kept staring at me; and this singular smell of Shepard's scent with her so close to me like this—it all gathered together as such a focused takeoff in me, keeping me floating above my own mind.

She gave me such a high, a concentrated high from looking at me like this…

And I would remember everything this time after drinking.

This sweet, heated haze made a road, a path straight through my chest, down to my stomach, down between me, suffocating my thighs in these leather jeans.

I felt it more, way more once Shepard stood up, wrapping her arms around my waist.

As soon as she touched me, so protective and primal—still respectful, always respectful—that was it.

All my inhibitions—gone.

Shepard circled her presence around me, holding me tight. "Ashley," she said, pressing her lips to my ear. "I want you. I want all of you, right now. Right fucking now—all night long." She had me shaking, panting; she held me tighter, breathing steady for me. "Are you still with me, babe?"

"Yes," I breathed out, hanging on to this reality. "Fuck… I need you, Shepard. I need you to fuck me up."

She smiled, humming out her satisfaction, so carnal in a deep, cavernous smoke of sound.

"Come with me, Ash," guided Shepard, standing me up with her. "Walk in front of me."

I stayed glued to her front, half her front, while she walked with me, walking me, walking me ahead.

Ahead to those bouncers who let us through the door, to this dark, black hallway.

Private VIP areas, separate and far enough away from each other: each door held so many possibilities, so many secrets, as thick as those walls were. Thick even from here, those walls probably kept out most of the outside noise, keeping everything inside instead. So thick, those walls would probably feel much harder against my back, harder, way harder…

Wandering my hand behind me to Shepard's pants, I sunk once I couldn't find anything.

I whined at her, "Why didn't you wear it…?"

Shepard kept guiding me along, down the hallway. "Because I would have been hard the entire time," she justified. But that was what I wanted… "Not in these leather pants, babe. And not tonight. Not all at once. I have to give you something else to look forward to."

"Not blowing your whole load in me, then?"

"You're filthy, you know that?"

"Please…I'm just getting started," I told her.

She laughed a little, so menacing. "And so am I."

Unexpected from that menacing tease, from those hallways and those doors, those private rooms—Shepard brought us up an elevator, and outside to the club's rooftop. Crashing rain overhead, above this alcove-like covering keeping us dry, I could smell the brine, the salt in the air mixed with this area's machinery, sticking to the top of my mouth through my nose. Beneath our boots, the club's music continued to blast on, the sound reaching us in a dimmed way, still booming just enough for comfort.

Here in this sentimentality I hadn't seen coming, this metallic alcove had plenty of room. Like a perch, or a nest for a person, or a hideout, these walls protected the place from the rain, but with a wide enough opening to see the whole storm, the whole view of this part of the city lit up at night.

Artificial warmth heating from those surfaces, the rain was still right outside, water pooling in just enough to not get in the way, to not soak the leather of the couch nearby, the glass of the cabinets filled with empty bottles of Sauvignon Blanc wine—something I had seen of Shepard before, from the Citadel.

Shepard took my linen jacket off for me, setting it over the arm of the couch nearby.

Pressing me against the welcoming warmth of this wall, Shepard stood here with me.

The way she took me in with her eyes, I saw all of my answers there. She didn't need to say it. I wanted her to. But, right now, I could stroke her hair chilled by the mists of the rain and thawed back again by the heating in here. I could stare right back at her, at the way this dulled lighting paled her complexion to a storm cloud gray. And I could wonder about this place, this rooftop perch that clearly belonged to her, sensing and feeling the meaning here, as much as I felt her body pressed over mine.

Shyness limiting her one last time, Shepard angled her face next to mine.

"Ash," she whispered over my skin. "Do you still trust me?"

Shaking with anticipation anyway, I told her, "Yes…"

Shepard held my anticipation, holding me firm around my waist, supportive. "Then we'll keep things…normal for tonight," she guided. So normal, so divine, she settle her lips over my jaw. "And next time, too." Pressing into me, making me fold into her, she controlled me in such a soft, loving way, effortless in her natural power. "After that, I'll see how you feel." Inching her presses closer to the corner of my mouth, she had me—she had me. "For now, though…I want to know you. Try to relax."

As dry as we were underneath this structure, I felt myself about to flood out of my leather jeans.

Especially once Shepard opened my mouth with hers, resonant with my every breath.

Breathing and breathing—it all became so much harder, trying to relax, trying to exist with her. Like she kept pulling me from this plane I was used to standing on, Shepard defined my lips with hers. Losing my spirit in hers, losing my soul in hers, I breathed at nothing. I breathed her in. I breathed at and in a place I never knew I had, near-panicking in this space; overwhelmed by the vastness she gave me, putting me up on this pedestal with her touch, her tongue pushing into mine, and her taste of sweet white wine.

Overwhelming me, still, this all started to shift in these unknowns.

Prickling at my core with pain, I couldn't stand it, I couldn't bear it.

I raked my nails down Shepard's shoulder, over to her chest, needing to cling to her by the skin of my fingertips, hanging here over this impossible drop.

So much, it was all so much—too much more once she moved her left hand between me, waiting.

Gasping, I gripped Shepard around her back, her leather here, the length of her hair here.

"Ashley," she soothed, somehow reaching me through my panic. "It's all right. It's just me. I'm not gonna hurt you." I wasn't afraid of that; I wasn't afraid of that. "What's the matter, then?"

Trying to breathe again, trying to breathe—"I'm…overstimulated. Overwhelmed."

Shepard slipped her hand farther between me, right against me—skilled, calculating.

Spreading myself open for her anyway, automatic, I gripped her harder, barely able to stay on like this.

"Then give it to me," she requested. "Give me that feeling instead of holding it inside. Share it with me."

I had spent all these years holding it inside, I almost couldn't trust myself to do what she said.

I'd already fallen into so much, alone, without her, only able to imagine what this would've been like.

When I thought about it like that, I couldn't blame her for being distant with me these past few days.

Shepard pulled me right back into her, back into the moment—back into this impossible stimulation when she opened me. Not my zipper. Not my belt. Heat, so precise from her omni-tool: she burned a slit through my clothes, practically burning the money she had spent on my clothes, all without burning me, exposing me to her. This easier access alone was enough to make me breathe out of control again, getting me going so damn much. Only some of my logic pushed through, wondering, worrying—

"I'll fix it later," promised Shepard. "Because if I take your clothes off tonight…we'll never make it to the next mission." Only her fingertips, two soft tips testing me, her touch slicking against me like lightning—I already wanted to fucking scream—"I'm better at doing than talking. Let me show you just how much."

Slipping through my grip around her, Shepard lowered herself in front of me, down on one knee.

Soaking more than the ground wetting her leather, her boots, she found that in me, breathing there.

In her quickness, Shepard hiked me up higher against this wall. Impossible strength of hers: she hooked her arm behind my leg, raising me up over her shoulder. She did the same with my other leg, leveraging me here with the weight of my boots hanging behind her, against her back, the black of her sweater; and she grinned against me all the while, listening to the way she drove me crazy from this alone.

Clawing her arms around my thighs, clawing her hands into me to keep me clamped open—

Angling up and into me, Shepard gave me her whole mouth, smirking into me the second I screamed.

So maddening, Shepard pressed herself all the way up and into me—that pressure, of her panting against me while I dripped, and drifted, and drenched down into her mouth: like she could've lifted my body more with her head alone, from how strong she was, how tireless she was. And her ego, her fucking ego kept her going, kept her tongue hard against me, persisting, and flicking thick. Relentless, she found me almost right away—listening to me, loudest, and feeling me, quavering hardest, she stuck to that one spot, stimulating, stimulating, stimulating, over and over with the same determination I knew of her, the same concentration, all of it.

Too overwhelmed—I couldn't say a word.

Too overstimulated—I couldn't remember what words were, what language even was, aside from this:

Just to hold onto her, just to hold on, I gripped her head. Pulling her into me any harder or higher was impossible—Shepard was all the way on me, so close that she could've fucked me with her tongue, but she chose not to. She kept at this one spot, tongue flattened and as strong and as thick as I needed. She stayed right there, right there, spiraling me out of control the harder she went by the minute.

I felt all of me pouring down her mouth, over her skin, down her neck. I felt the way Shepard couldn't breathe—and she didn't care, she didn't care, inhaling what she could of me right through her lips anyway, consuming me for life.

I tried to remember: I gave her my stimulation, sharing it with her. As broken as my breaths were, I let her hear all of me, unfiltered—so much louder than those hundreds of nights I'd spent getting off to her, alone, and needing to hide it. Unhinged, as much as she inspired me, setting me off so hard, so close.

Finding my words again: "Shepard, I can't—fuck, it's too much!"

She wouldn't stop.

She wouldn't stop, that cocky shape of her lips widening against this soak of me for her, going harder.

Digging my nails into her scalp, I couldn't breathe as I breathed, couldn't breathe as I breathed: "It's too soon, Shepard—I know you're trying to make me come right away—"

Making a point, Shepard took everything to the extreme.

Impossible, she overwhelmed me so much more, way harder, past even her own limitations.

Lifting me a bit higher against this wall, she pushed my whole body up, leveraging her head underneath me at a sharper angle. She gave it to me stronger, so much stronger, like her life depended on it—needing to please me this badly that she would break her own back to bend over for me. Like she knew I couldn't live without this, like I couldn't thrive without her exclusive focus on me like this, giving me this taste of who she was while she tasted all of me.

This taste, of blood in my throat from how loud I was, completely unrestrained: I wished she knew.

And I had to tell her, now—"God, you're gonna kill me… I can't live without you, Shepard. I need you, I need you—"

Pleased herself, she moaned against me, her voice drilling right through me.

That one thing, that one thing from her, this single slice of validation from her sent me over the edge.

Soaring in place on this perch over her shoulders, her clenched shoulders, I fell out of place…out of time, my throat rippling with this endlessness of her name, louder than the rainstorm echoing around us.

Flying here on this new plane of her, I remembered all those times…out in the field…when Shepard would tell me to do something, and I would do it… That shape of the situation, since day one under her command: how she would observe me…and judge—how she would watch…and make sure I had done what she ordered, exactly as she had ordered me to do it. And when she would give me a bit of praise—or when she would say nothing, since no news was good news—this was the same…just…different.

I had no idea how long I'd spent here, so high in my head.

The black-gold of this sky out there looked so beautiful…

Shepard stayed in place for me the whole time.

Still kneeling there, still holding me up, she had only moved her head back and down. Staring down, down at the rain pooling through here, Shepard breathed, still catching her breath a little. Eyes unfocused, she seemed kind of dazed herself, like she couldn't believe what she'd managed to do to me.

Finding enough of my awareness, I finally relaxed my grip over her head, her scalp.

Untangling from her hair, my hands started shaking once I saw the slight red dripping from my nails.

"Shit, I'm sorry," I breathed out, hoarse. "I… I didn't mean to hurt you, Shepard. I'm really sorry…"

Not minding at all, Shepard took one of my hands in hers—as best as she could, with her arms still circled around my thighs. Gentle, she kissed the blood trailing from my fingertips. And then she did the same with my other hand, just as soft, just as sweet. Her mouth and her face were already dry, though, so she must have wiped me off with the leather over my legs while I'd been too high to notice.

"Don't worry about it, babe," she told me, peaceable.

I almost lost my breath again, just from hearing her voice like this.

My throat was so sore—I barely recognized my own voice, how frayed it was at the ends. "I feel different… Like so much has changed all at once. You honestly reached at something in me—something I never knew existed before. I don't…know what else to say right now."

Shepard must have liked my voice this way, since she smiled up at me: "You don't have to say anything, Ash." Maneuvering me with her, she intended to keep this going. "Come with me. We're not done yet."

Picking me up with her, she brought me to that couch I saw earlier.

Setting me over the soft material, warmed by this heating, Shepard lay me down over my back. Kneeling between me, she reached back to take my boots off, setting them down on the ground nearby, so orderly. Then she placed her hands at either side of me, lowering her weight there, but not too far down. Not too close to me; not too far away from me. At just the right distance to hover over me, to stare down at me with space enough to look at me properly, to look me over like this.

Different, so different—staring back up at her, I felt like my whole presence had changed.

Changing, this change had pushed up a potential in me that I never knew I'd had.

Talking about going to the ends of the galaxy for her…I had only imagined it before, the idea of it all.

Now it felt like Shepard had sent me to those ends, like I existed here, to protect her from going too far out, and to prove to her that I was the only one capable of being here for her without breaking entirely.

Loving her with something bigger than love; believing in something with her stronger than trust:

Shepard shined a light on all of it when she smiled at me again.

I held her shoulders, her hidden strength there, easing her down to me, her full weight on top of me.

Still blanking out on what to say, I kissed her the way I wanted it: as deep as I could reach through her, as deep as I needed her in me—even if it was only her actual touch for tonight, nails cut already. And while I had her mouth over mine again, tasting those remnants of me over her, all over her, so persistent, I persisted in needing her. And even while I held her around her back, softer this time in mindfulness, I lost myself to this time in her, in stasis in the real world. And even as I opened my legs for her, wider—not to accommodate her, but to beg her without words to take me now—I wasn't close enough to her, this space between us so wide and expansive.

Still running after Shepard without running, she chose to focus on her skill, on how good she was with learning me, with knowing me, with pleasing me. Her right hand, she moved down between me, finding me as wet as I was before, or more; and she lingered here, knowing me again, knowing that I needed her to kiss me just in this way, in this way that I gave to her, but she kept this uneven.

Staying somewhere so far away in the sky, past those rain clouds, and reaching down to me, making me react like ventriloquism…

Right before, just before, her fingertips set against me, I stopped her with my only request: "Love me, Shepard." Inhaling me, exhaling closer to me this time, she hid away, settling her head beside mine. "If you're going to claim me like this…then give me the rest of what you won't say—what you won't let me understand about you yet." Slipping my hands underneath her sweater, her thin shirt below there, I felt this cage of her as sweating skin, prickling me in new spots of heat all over. "Give it to me—the right way, the only way." Swelling and collapsing in my hold, she lost control of her own involuntary function, volunteering her shyness to me. "Take me the way I want—or not at all. Please don't break my heart…"

Setting sun over my horizon, Shepard shuddered over me.

Her actual weight over me this time, her actual body over me, she kept what little space I could allow, melting her lips against my neck. Aligned at this ultraviolet edge on top of me, she disappeared inside of me. Two at a time and without thinking, she gave me the only pain I wanted, the only way I wanted it.

Pushing up around her, pulling her in more. Accepting her, even in the way she reshaped me, shaping me as hers, only hers—I held this pain fully, holding her tighter without suffocating. Wanting this for so long, subconsciously saving myself for her even before we'd met: this stretching, opening, sense of breaking, I embraced it all, breathing with it, tattooing this feeling everywhere in me.

Inked as soaking more around her touch so limber inside of me, drilling in slow-motion with this steady thrusting from her—all the way in, taking her in with this endless sensitivity stroking me; all the way out, and needing her right back, tightening around her in this need, obsessive in the way I stuck to her, wrapped all the way around her as my legs did.

Shepard had me, right here.

She had me, she knew it—and she could hardly breathe, listening to me like this.

Because I loved the pain; because I loved her.

Because I loved her steady rhythm, so unintentional; because I loved her atmosphere, ethereal in the way she finally let herself exist with me, but still washed away in this novelty for her, chopped up as her breaths were on top of me.

Freeing one of my hands from her sweater, I reached up to her head.

Stroking at her hair, the thin silken threads of her joined as this cascade of colors—I moved enough of it out of the way from this side of her face closest to mine. She had been hiding there. She didn't stop, didn't stop, feeling me so much closer like this: the way I stared at her, at her burning face, her scalding hot neck, her blood heating more now that she had my lips over her ear, right against her.

Holding her head, pressing her ear closer to these sounds from me, I laced my words through: "Give me more… Please—I want more of you." Heating more against this kiss of me, her hearing warmed hotter than the artificial one around us. "Your ring finger, too. All three, all three at once…"

Twice only, Shepard eased herself out.

This bodily shift from her, I felt and tracked with my hand, my arm still over her skin, memorizing the way she moved. Thrice as I craved, Shepard eased herself back inside of me: joined as three points, she locked her fingertips together as a triangle in her skill, at first. She let that perfectionism fall away as she fell back into me, breathing out hotter against my neck, my shoulder.

Expecting more pain, I welcomed what little I did feel in comparison.

Lessened in some familiarity, softened by the way Shepard finally slipped her free arm beneath my waist to hold me, I fell away from what I expected.

Arching up into her, accommodating her again, and again, and again, Shepard gave me every reason to bend like this. Thicker than before, she angled into me, working her whole wrist, her arm and the bend of it for more leverage, because she knew better. Sparking me more this time, she finally let me hear her voice through her breaths, giving me these emotions all from the same place as her physical efforts, because she couldn't help it.

Adoring me, she stayed at this in a perfect tenderness, perfectly balanced, as perfectly unbalanced as we were together:

Molten expressions rising up through me, so sweet in agony, I had to tell her, "I swear, you're the only one…the only one who could ever get me like this." She let me hear her more, let me feel her deeper in me, and I smiled, shaping me more. "Nothing like me…nothing like me at all—I don't care, I don't care." She stayed at this pace, no matter how much I felt her need to rush, to please me more immediately; I wouldn't let her, because she knew I didn't want it, and that was enough. "Softly, Shepard… Softly, softly, just like this, just like this. Please don't stop. Please, please don't stop…"

Overwhelmed now, she was so close to something herself, melding as a metaphor. "Ashley…"

"Don't," I begged. "Don't stop. Don't pull away from me… I know you're scared. I know you are. So, do what you told me—give it to me instead. Give all of it to me… Give it to me. Give me everything."

"Fucking hell—"

Too deep in me now, I trusted that she wouldn't leave.

Trusting her, just as deeply, I polarized this imbalance between us even more: as soft as I was never allowed to be with anyone else, as fragile as I was never allowed to be for anything else, I let her feel me like this. On purpose this time, and maybe only unconscious before, I loved that Shepard stopped thinking, right away, like a switch had gone off somewhere. Lifting her higher on this scale, she needed this apparent weakness from me as much as I hated showing it with anyone else, for anything else.

If she only budged in extremes, then I could give her that from now on.

Entranced by me, Shepard spoke almost as freely as she had when I couldn't understand her: "You have me—you have me, and I need you to need me, exactly like this. And I can't stand it, how painful it is…but I know you want this from me anyway. I can't—keep resisting you anymore. Barely… You're way too beautiful when you're like this."

She knew me, and I rewarded her; I rewarded her, and she rewarded me right back, angling herself into me so much more, so profound.

Stroking me as three, her hand spoke to me as the rest of her sounds did: so much closer with her words unspoken now, the truest signs of her barriers coming down, I heated up as nearly the same.

She heard me with my mentality, how my own psychology had broken into her; providing for me, my provider, Shepard gave me what I wanted, over and over again, pleasing me the way I would've wanted, the way I still wanted right here, right now. Clinging to her in her superiority over me, I locked my legs around her, my heart and my mind set alight by her all at once.

And then Shepard moved her head, moved just enough to look into my eyes with her simmering intensity, exactly the way I'd always needed from her—

Unblinking, everything swelled in me all at once, rising higher with her over me like this; locked as my legs were, I trembled out of control underneath her anyway, held up by her hand so supportive beneath my back; pulled away by this loving strength in her eyes alighting me in size, expanding and expanding, blasting my perspective way beyond even this direct lock of my sight with hers. Unlocked, I found the unanswerable through the sunlight of her stare, raying me hotter and higher, weakening me, weakening me as weak as I sounded still without blinking, whining out against her breaths mixed with mine.

However long this lasted with her this long inside of me, I never looked away from her.

Not once.

I only broke away to fall back down to the couch beneath me, falling somewhere near to realism.

Not all the way, not all the way…this blurred spinning in my head kept on while Shepard looked at me, watching me breathe underneath her.

I wanted to tell her that I loved her.

I wanted to say it—so badly.

But I was afraid… Afraid that, after everything, she still wouldn't say it back.

Making up for it, almost, I loved knowing that I had made the right choice. I loved that I finally knew without a doubt that Shepard was worth everything that I had suffered before her. I loved this dependence I had found on her, like it had been waiting there for me to take it. And I loved that she was dependent enough on me depending on her like this—she needed me to need her, just like she'd said.

Only once she found enough recognition in my eyes did she lower her lips to mine, steadily pulling out, slow enough. As much as my lips stuck to hers, I had attached to her, everywhere—she grunted from the way I couldn't let her go, couldn't let her go, until she made me do it, knowing that we were on borrowed time here. Some of that momentary time, she returned to me when she used her omni-tool to fix my clothes, sealing me back up properly. Running out of time—

That reality came back to me way sooner than I would've wanted.

That time expired right on time.

Shepard's omni-tool went off with a priority alert.

She growled and cursed over the timing, over the interruption, but I wasn't surprised.

I lifted myself enough for her to free her omni-tool arm from beneath me. Her right hand dripping of me, Shepard wasn't quite lucid enough herself, using that same hand to check her email anyway. Or maybe she was, and she did it on purpose, the orange light beaming over her beauty, and that wetness.

I smiled over it regardless as I stared out to the rain nearby, draping my leg over her lap, glad to have these last moments with her.

"It's the damned Council," griped Shepard. "They need me in the comm room on the ship for an immediate briefing on our next mission. Motherfuckers!"

"Mmm, duty calls, Skipper," I teased, still sounding a little high. "This was too perfect to last forever."

"Sorry," she expressed anyway. "I'm replying to them now… I'm letting them know that I need to get back to the Normandy first. They're going to have to deal with the wait."

I remembered: "By the way, this might be kind of awkward… I'm betting that most of the team's pretty wasted by now. They're having a party back at the hotel."

Shepard groaned over the news, piling it on with the rest of what she needed to plan around.

Pulling up the chat room, I asked her, "Do you need me to call the party off? Let them know?"

"You can leave that to me," she said. "I need to get to the briefing before I can decide how to play this. For now, though…I should get you back to the hotel. Wait for me there until I call everyone back to the ship. They can keep going with the party until I find out more information."

I smiled over how laid-back she was. "Well that's nice of you, isn't it?"

Mid-response to the Council, Shepard paused.

She looked at me properly, sharing, "I'll have something more for you. Soon. It's not really what you're thinking, and maybe…maybe it's inappropriate, blurring the lines too much. But, considering our circumstances now, this can't be helped. I had to make a choice. I've already made up my mind."

"Whatever it is, I'm looking forward to it. I trust your judgment, Skipper. Always have, always will."

This look she gave me—she trusted me, too, so very related to this decision she had made about me.

Back at the hotel, all the way back in reality, I kept on smiling, smiling over the night, smiling over my new knight, and smiling over how her sun had replaced my sight even here at night.

I smiled the most over how Shepard had given me a better kiss this time, even though we both knew we'd see each other again soon.

Different circumstances.

Needing to switch gears once the party was over, once this game was over.

New, different music blasting through the common room, the team had definitely reached their peak with this party of theirs. Another drinking game going over by the TV, Wrex had outlasted Joker this time. He kept going anyway while Tali and Garrus cheered him on. But it looked to me like Joker was just fine, though—he probably hadn't wanted to drink too much in case he needed to pilot the ship again soon. Good foresight.

I figured I'd go join them soon enough…after I took a shower.

I still had this obvious smell on me.

Shepard had managed to get us back to her car while avoiding the rain somehow.

I wasn't wet—from the storm outside—but I knew better.

Walking down the darkened hallway to my room, I smiled to myself over the whole thing anyway, feeling my heart swell from the memories Shepard had given me.

I definitely needed to write down my thoughts, my feelings, to have something else to remember…

Remembering.

I remembered…

Finding my favorite person in the hallway, I fucking remembered that conversation we'd had at the club.

Liara stopped in front of me.

Inches away, I knew she could smell me.

And she had the nerve to look at me like she didn't care, like she already knew somehow.

Such a damned know-it-all…

"Ashley, you're in my way," she told me, so full of herself. "Do you mind moving?"

"Of course I mind," I sneered back. "Why don't you walk around? There's plenty of room."

Liara rolled her eyes. "Hardly," she countered. "If you insist on making things difficult, then we will get nowhere. I only wish to return to the others in the common room. And you could do with a shower. We both have better things to do right now. So will you please stop this and move out of my way?"

"Stop this? Stop what? I'm not doing anything to you, Liara. You're always the one messing around with me, sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. You seem to know exactly why I need a shower, don't you? Were you spying on me again through her head? Is that it?"

"This is common sense," insisted Liara. "The two of you are an item. You spent the night together. And now you have returned here, smelling like sex. There was no need for me to spy at all."

"I don't fucking buy it," I shot back.

"That is unfortunate. However, it does not matter what you think. I have had enough of this conversation with you, Ashley. You will move, now, otherwise—"

"—otherwise what? You'll make me move? That's rich, coming from you. All you care about is controlling every little thing, everyone around you! The first real intimate moment of my life, and you were there, spying on me! You destroyed me not long before that, and you had the nerve to not give a damn, acting like I was just some stupid kid, some—trash. Is that how you see me, Liara? Is that it?"

When Liara didn't say anything, looking at me like I was so far beneath her, I had my answer.

Not too far behind her, I saw that the door to her and Tali's room was still open.

Pissed off beyond reason, I pushed Liara backward, pushing her back, back into her room. Walking inside with her, I made sure that the door closed and locked behind me. The two beds in here, separate, and this mini-suite they had: she and Tali could have practically lived here together, best buddies as they were, no doubt talking shit about me, like I didn't matter at all.

And now I had Liara's back against a wall again.

This reflection from the city through the rainy windows next to us: it brimmed through the blue of her eyes again, so defiant this time. Defiant, because I still had my hand on her shoulder, halfway between letting her go and gripping her flesh through her clothes, just to see how it would feel.

I had to win this time instead of walking away.

"Why have you done this?" hissed Liara. "Why do you continue provoking me, time and time again?"

"I'm not provoking you at all," I fought back. "If you think this is provoking, then you have another thing coming. We're just here having a friendly conversation. A friendly conversation about how we're supposed to be teammates, but you act like I'm some little kid compared to you. You talk down to me all the fucking time, and you think I'm gonna keep putting up with it? No way! This ends here."

"You receive the treatment that you earn from me, Ashley."

"I didn't earn anything! I never asked for your bullshit in the first place! You started this crap, not me!"

Liara rolled her eyes again. "And you are a poor liar as well," she claimed. "You insist on receiving equal treatment from me, and yet your methods are clearly childish and unhinged. Why would I give you the treatment you so desperately crave if you cannot be civilized with me in the first place?"

"You stuck-up, motherfucking—"

"—and you continue to prove my point. Time and time again, this is all you can do. This is all you know. I refuse to treat you with any respect if you won't do the same for me."

"Why can't you set the drama aside, then? If you're so damn civilized, why not be the better person, then? If I'm telling you to drop this, why won't you just do it—for the team, for the mission?"

Liara said this like it was no big deal, like it was somehow obvious: "Have you perhaps considered that you don't deserve to be anyone's equal? I believe you enjoy it when things are unbalanced. Otherwise, what would there be for you to work for, to strive toward? You have no ambitions outside of your mindless attempts to be seen by others. Once again, you receive what you earn. I won't apologize for that."

Building, bursting—I was about to explode, to tear her apart, ripping that blue skin of hers to shreds.

Controlling myself, controlling myself—"What the hell did you just say?"

"You heard me, Ashley," replied Liara, so fucking civil. "The way you continue to corner me, pushing my buttons and picking fights, you are the very embodiment of the human stereotype. You are nothing but a hotheaded, reckless bully, interested only in your own self-gain. This is not a matter of merely setting our issues aside, or finding unity with one another for the sake of the mission. You wish to win this game that you have conjured up in your head. There is no victory to be had if you are the only one playing."

"You're standing here, aren't you?" I challenged. "You're arguing back at me instead of leaving! If you think I'm such a bully, walk away. Walk the fuck away, right now!"

Liara looked down at my hand gripping her shirt. "You have made that difficult for me."

"You made my life a living hell once. If you can dish it out, then I'm sure you can take it, too."

Liara rolled her fucking eyes again. "And you continue to dwell on the past," she said, still so damn calm. "What happened was inevitable—the others were bound to gossip. I gave them my permission to do so at an uncomfortable time for you—"

"—yeah, on purpose! You wanted to break me! Congratulations, you did! You won that round! But now you're over here calling me a bully, acting like I don't have a right to hate you for what you did, for how you keep treating me? Even if you won't stop turning your nose up at me, you could at least apologize!"

"I haven't done a thing to you aside from that one, meaningless act. It was quite frivolous in the grand scheme of things. I have already said that I refuse to apologize—that includes this."

"Then I refuse to back down!"

Liara finally sneered, "I encourage you to continue as you are, then. Continue provoking me. Continue to self-sabotage and say these things you cannot take back. Keep pushing me and see where it gets you."

"What the fuck are you gonna do to me, huh?" I mocked. "Break me with your biotics? You know the team wouldn't stand for that. Unless you're some master criminal, there's no way you could hurt me and get away with it. If something happened to me, everyone would know it was your fault! All you can do is stand here and take it. So unless you drop this and say you're sorry, you don't have a way out!"

Realizing that I was right, Liara went quiet.

She just stood there, scowling at me.

"Exactly," I taunted, getting in her face, more. "That's what I thought. It's no surprise you don't have anything else to say now. You can't handle the idea that you could be wrong. That you don't know everything. You don't know the first thing about me, either." Smirking at the way she still couldn't say anything, I remembered, even more: "Oh, I get it now. This holier-than-thou act, it's all a cover-up, isn't it? For those issues of yours you mentioned in the chat? Yeah, your Mom had passed away, and that was a good excuse to give the others for why you had to take a step back. That wasn't the whole truth."

Breathing harder against my face, Liara had nothing to say to that, either.

I laughed in her face, against that stupid mask of hers.

"No wonder, Liara. It's no fucking wonder you love putting me down. You hate yourself, so of course you have to kick me to feel better. You have Mommy issues, just like I do. Clingy and needy with Daddy—I can relate. Trust me, I seriously can. This is how I know I'm right. I know you better than you think I do."

That scowl of hers deepened, deeper than the Pacific nearby.

But I wasn't about to pacify her, to let her get away with this.

Tightening my grip over her shirt, I pulled her up, even closer to me—"You're as twisted as I am, if not more. But you go around pretending like you're this perfect goddess, capable of doing no wrong. You're nothing but a hundred-year-old baby who can't stand on her own two feet—not unless you have the best dick in the galaxy propping you up. Better yet, unless you're on your knees in front of her, taking it from behind, you don't know what to do with yourself, do you? So you're still playing this long game with her, waiting it out, waiting it out… I know that's what you're doing. You're not fooling me."

Liara could glare at me all she wanted.

I wasn't about to give up on this—

"Didn't I tell you to drop this shit?!" I raged, not giving a fuck that Liara flinched all of a sudden. "I told you, stay away from her! I fucking told you to back down, and that I wasn't gonna share her with you! Not her body, not her heart, and not her mind, either! So if you're still floating around in her head with that stupid bond of yours, I'm telling you to stop it, right now! Stop this fucking game and give up!"

Liara flinched again and kept flinching with my raised voice.

She was so damn lucky that Shepard still cared about her—even loved her—

If she didn't have this figurative armor, I would have burned her down by now, burned it all down.

Pushing Liara instead, pushing her—"Oh, what is it now? You're lonely and you can't survive without her, is that it? This creepy little bond you have with Shepard is what's holding you together? You're pathetic! She's not gonna save you! No one can!"

These tears welling up in her baby blue eyes, streaming down her sweet little face, and the way she started shaking like a little kid, too scared to keep standing up for herself now…

I smirked over it even more, smelling blood and needing more of it.

I went in for the kill:

"Come on, Liara…you have to know by now. Don't you see the writing on the wall? The way Shepard left you at the drop of a dime? The way she already wanted me, before she even met you? It's so obvious…so damn obvious. As smart as you are, you should have seen this coming:

"You were just a number to her. A notch on her bedpost. She fucked you, used you like a little slut, and threw you away the second she was done with you. As soon as I came into the picture, you were gone. You were nothing…but a distraction for her. Distracting her—from me. Your bond with her isn't real."

Liara stopped flinching, stopped shaking.

She kept crying, but it was colder, somehow…

This look in her eyes—like what I'd said had never occurred to her, like I actually could've been right…

Or, no…not like I could've been right.

No way, there was no way—Liara and I both knew that I was dead wrong here. Dead. Fucking. Wrong.

She knew that her bond with Shepard was the real deal. She knew that she wasn't just a number…and that, in reality, I resented what they had. I had resented it all this time, taking my anger out on Shepard by stirring up drama, and starting stupid arguments with her over the whole thing. Liara knew that I was only talking shit, because that was what I did: I self-sabotaged all the time, saying things I didn't mean.

I saw the truth here, the truth that I still dreaded to find from Shepard staring back at me someday:

Liara was sick of my shit.

She was sick of my audacity. She was sick of my nerve, my cluelessness, like a kid, to even suggest that what she had with Shepard was just some…meaningless thing. Because to her, it meant the world, the universe—and it was very, very possible that that bond of theirs was the only reason why Liara held herself back with me now, and all this time leading up until now. Because she knew how much Shepard cared about me. Because she knew that Shepard was in love with me, and so she couldn't touch me.

All she could do was stay cold in this moment.

Colder, cold…so cold, so very cold.

Liara went stone cold on me.

The city outside, the lights outside, the water outside: none of it reflected in her eyes this time, too consumed by those tears streaming down her face. Like white to black, she had split like this, blocking the worst of her emotions away, and sealing them shut, out of her reach. Because if she could have reached them by now, I knew: she would have reached across this short distance between us, and…

And—I didn't think she had it in her, but…maybe taking my chances wasn't the best idea right now…

And—we both knew that Shepard loved her, too…

Liara risked ruining their implicit relationship if she ever laid a hand on me.

I relaxed my grip over her shirt.

I took a step back.

Liara stayed there against the wall, glowering at me with deadened eyes, lightless.

I was about to say something, to drop this and apologize, until we heard a call through our radios:

"Everyone, this is Shepard. Come in. Do you read me?"

Liara gave no reaction, focusing her energies on me, completely.

Yeah…she didn't believe me about Shepard at all. If anything, all I did was strengthen their bond…

Tali sounded sober enough as she replied, "Yes, Shepard, we're here! Is everything all right?"

"Sorry for the short notice, but I need you all to get back to the ship. Shore leave is over. We have a high-priority mission to get to, directly from the Council. It's about Saren—we can't afford to wait. Pack it up, send your holo-closets back to your rooms, and get to the Normandy immediately for a briefing."

"No problem, Commander," complied Garrus, a little smoother than usual, like he'd had a few drinks.

Joker wasn't so sure, "Uh, there might be a problem… Wrex here's been chugging these bottles of Ryncol all night long. We were kinda in the middle of a party here, Shepard. Just so you know."

Wrex seemed…kind of okay: "Ahh, I'll be fine… I'll be fine! Can just take some meds—from the bed bay—med bay… Sleep on the way there, in bed… I can hold my liquor y'know!"

Shepard still needed to know, "Wrex, are you lucid enough for the briefing? Can you pay attention?"

"Yeah, Shepard," he replied. "I'll be fine, like I said. I'll be good and listen… Briefing. Then go to bed…"

"Understood, then," she accepted. "Everyone meet me in the comm room once you're here."

Garrus replied, "Will do, Shepard. Just need to clean up in the common room, then we'll be on our way."

"Fine, but make it quick. Make sure Liara and Ashley get here, too, if they're busy. Shepard out."

Once the call ended, I knew I had to do something—fast.

Liara hadn't changed her stare, her coldness at all. Those tears had lessened, but some of them still slipped down her face. All because she was sick of me, so fucking sick of me.

She was so done.

"Liara, listen," I tried. "I'm sorry. I was way out line… I shouldn't have said the shit that I did. I have to face facts here, accept reality: it's obvious that Shepard loves you—"

Sharp crack of her palm against my face with strength way beyond her, Liara slapped the fuck out of me.

Face burning, more on that side—I watched drops of blood shoot out to the dark, carpeted floor, straight from my lower lip. Busted open near the corner, I could only keep my hand over the cut.

Caught up in this panic now, of Tali walking in here and finding us like this, of Shepard finding out, of possibly ruining the team over this, compromising the mission—

Needing to make this right, I tried again: "I guess I deserved that… Look, I get that you hate me. I'm a drama queen, I'm a little kid, I'm not your equal—I'm all of those things, all of them, and I accept that. I accept your judgment. I'm only hoping that we can set this aside for the mission. There's no way we can work together out on the field like this. I'm willing to drop this if you are—"

"—get out of my room, Ashley!" shouted Liara, as sharp as her strike had been. "Stop TRYING to make up for your idiotic mistakes! There is nothing you can say to me to make this right! Absolutely nothing! You crossed the line with me! No matter how much you apologize, you can NEVER take this back!"

Needing to fix this, needing to fix this, even if it meant lying to her: "Liara, wait! Wait! I-I was drinking, okay?! I'm, I'm totally drunk—the stuff I drank tonight was way too strong, and I had way too much—"

Liara slapped me again, hard enough to stagger me to the side, away from her.

"Don't you DARE lie to me again, you insolent little child!" she screamed, almost like a banshee… "Do what you are told this time! Get out of my room! Stay the hell away from me! You and I are done! I am finished with you! Never speak to me again! Not a word, Ashley—not another fucking word, or else—!"

"—Liara, please. Please!" Hand clamped over my open lip, stopping the bleeding, I begged her, begged her, "Can't we fix this!? I'll drop this stupid game! You win! You win! I'm sorry, okay?! I'm really sorry!"

That coldness, one last time.

That chill, sealing our fates.

That frozen ocean water, stopping these floodgates from her, from drowning me, from destroying me:

"Ashley…when you next say another word to me, it will be game over. I suggest you walk away quietly."

Something in her tone, her choice of words, so sinister, finally got through to me.

There was no ramming my head against this situation to make it better.

I couldn't do anything…

I couldn't do a thing…except listen to her, and do as she said.

Obeying her this time with these chills running down my spine, I walked away, watching my back.

I unlocked the door, finding my only relief in seeing that Tali wasn't here, and that the hall was empty.

I left to my room, making sure the door closed behind me.

And when I finally made it through my own door—temporary, so temporary—I had to stop for a minute. I stopped with my back against the surface, breathing so damn hard. Almost heaving for breath at this point, I felt like I'd narrowly avoided an accident—a terrible, terrible accident that was all my fault. The blood said enough, dripping down from the corner of my mouth. This was all I could do instead of crying.

I was still in way too much shock for my emotions to really hit me.

I only sobered a little once I heard Tali, Wrex, Garrus, and Joker chatting together as they walked down the hallway, on the way to their rooms.

Finding enough awareness, I scrambled to find some medi-gel through my omni-tool.

Applying just enough to my face, to my lower lip, the bleeding finally stopped. I managed to push myself to walk over to the bathroom, to look at my damned face, to make sure:

The burning in my face hadn't gone away completely. I knew my skin would be red for a while.

Liara's strength had left a scar down my lower lip to my skin, thick and transparent. If she hadn't slapped me twice in a row, the medi-gel probably would've covered the whole thing up all the way. But this was what I deserved for being such a major bitch. And for no reason. Just to provoke her…

Staring at myself in the mirror, I didn't recognize who I was anymore.

I had these expensive clothes on, but I was still a lowlife. A bully. Because I hated myself, deep down.

I knew why I had done what I did. I knew why I'd said those words, reacted this way. This situation with Liara kept bringing up serious trauma: PTSD from my teenage years. Parental issues, like I'd told her…

Nearly everything I'd said to her back there was just—projection.

Even that shit about her just being a number.

Now that Shepard had fucked me, taken my virginity, I ran the risk of being that to her instead.

All I could do was trust her. And I did trust her—completely. So much so that I wouldn't have even cared if Shepard had used Liara as a distraction from me. So much so that I wouldn't have given a damn if she kept it a secret now, all to protect me from that truth. I was so crazy about her. I was so madly in love with her, it was unreal. We were together now. Nothing could ruin that for me. Not even this possibility.

But if Shepard found out about what I did, I honestly wasn't sure if she would forgive me.

If she knew this about me—that this wasn't even me at my worst, and that I had stopped short of burning that entire argument down to the ground—I didn't know what she would think. Would she hate me? Would she still love me? Could she be in love with a violent hothead like me, when she cared so much about justice and fairness? Would she break up with me if she knew how dangerous I was?

Could I even love myself anymore, living with this person in my head?

An urgent knock sounded at my door, shaking me out of my thoughts.

On the other side, Tali called to me from the hall, "Ashley, are you in there? I'm not sure if your radio was on—Shepard called us back to the ship! We need to meet her there for our next briefing! We're taking the rapid transit together once everyone is ready to leave!"

Forcing myself to sound normal again, I called back to her, "Okay, thanks! Be right there!"

"Good! See you soon!"

And now Liara had some serious blackmail on me.

I had compromised myself, screwed myself big-time with my big mouth.

All she had to do was tell Tali what happened, and she could've taken my best friend away from me. She could have turned Tali, and Garrus, and Wrex, and Joker, and Shepard away from me, all at the same time, shoving me back into that month I'd spent avoiding them on the ship over that misunderstanding.

Self-preservation instincts kicking back in, I knew what I had to do.

I couldn't step aside. I couldn't break up with Shepard over this, because I was still so fucking selfish and needy and childish and pathetic. I had spent all this time saying that I would never let her go, and that I would never give up on her, on us. I couldn't go back on my word to her. I couldn't break my promises, since, maybe, there was a chance that she might forgive me if she ever found out somehow.

I really needed to accept that Shepard and Liara loved each other, too…and that they always would, no matter what, no matter what happened with me. Next to their bond, I was pretty much expendable.

Because if I didn't accept this soon, well…I didn't even want to think about that.

Making my way back to the Normandy with the others in my Alliance fatigues, I had a killer headache.

That buzz from the single drink I'd had at the club hadn't been enough to faze me: but I lied to Joker and the others during the rapid transit ride, telling them that I was still kind of buzzed anyway. It gave me the perfect excuse to stay quiet. It gave me an even better excuse to ignore Joker's invasive questions about where Shepard had taken me, and how good the sex felt. Apparently there was something about me that made it obvious now that I'd had the best sex of my entire life that night.

And he was right…but I was in no state to let myself think about that right now.

Tali did tell Joker to shove it with his damned questions, but still.

Liara sat farthest away from me, not saying a word.

Garrus and Wrex tried to prod her, once, asking what was wrong.

She just shook her head, signaling enough that she didn't want to talk right now.

They respected her privacy and let her be. Out of respect for her, they all stayed quiet until we arrived.

Back on the ship, back to this routine—almost—Joker went to his seat at the helm, while the rest of us went ahead to the comm room. No one really said anything aside from the usual off-hand comments about getting back to it, back to the usual, all of that.

This same old, same old of the Normandy should have comforted me.

Instead, walking with Tali to the command center, with Garrus, Wrex, and Liara behind us, I felt like I was back in a prison of my own making. I had to somehow pretend like everything was still okay. I had to go back to lying to save my own ass. I had to keep these terrible secrets if I wanted to protect everyone else, too. Because if this got out, then that would've fractured the team, killed our morale together.

Compromising myself, compromising the mission…

Day one of being Commander Shepard's girlfriend must have gone according to plan.

When we made it to the comm room, we found Shepard standing in the middle of the area, wearing her casual Alliance blues, waiting for us. Peaceful, patient, and so full of understanding right after shore leave: she didn't even get mad when Wrex kind of crashed as he sat down in his chair. While Wrex situated himself, and the others took their seats, Shepard smiled at me first. She caught me off-guard, since I'd assumed she would still keep things mostly distant and professional in situations like these.

And I was happy to see her again, despite everything…so I smiled back at her.

Revitalized enough now, I could deal with sitting in my usual seat across from Liara, without much trouble.

Everyone else looked around, waiting.

Waiting…for Kaidan to get here.

Shepard knew that she needed to address this before anything else:

"First off, I appreciate you all getting back here on short notice. I'm sure you've spotted by now that Lieutenant Alenko isn't here. The good news is that he will be just fine. The bad news is that he won't be continuing on with us for the mission, at least for now. I unfortunately had to relieve him from duty."

Their shocked faces—except for Liara, since she already knew, somehow.

No one else had seen this coming, either.

Diplomatic, Shepard gave them the explanation she had settled on: "After our mission on Feros with the Thorian, Kaidan's headaches from his L2 implants became impossible for him to handle. Of course, he would put on a smile for the team. He didn't want to let us down. But after assessing his situation, I had him seek medical assistance at the main Alliance base here in San Diego. That's why we came here.

"I determined that Kaidan will be better suited retrofitting to L3 biotic implants. In order to do that, he'll need to go through a long, therapy-intensive process. I couldn't risk his terrible headaches straining him any longer. We all need to be at our very best to take Saren down—no exceptions. The lieutenant understood this, and accepted my decision. He's been transferred to Vancouver HQ for the procedure."

No one questioned her story, only partly true. They didn't need to know that, though.

Thinking about how much I missed Kaidan, I looked believable enough: like I didn't know the full story, either. I could blend in here as Tali, Garrus, and Wrex glanced around at everyone in the room, including me, taking in our reactions.

I admired how Shepard always knew just the right words to say, no matter the situation…unlike me.

I had to take a page out of her book—or better yet, rip it out, immediately.

I wasn't surprised that Tali was the one to ask, "But, Shepard—Kaidan will be all right…won't he?"

"Yes, Tali, he will be," promised Shepard, confident in his prospects. "Once he's up and running again, Kaidan will be back with us. He'll continue on with the mission, whether that's before or after we deal with Saren. We still have the Reapers to worry about afterward. Until he returns, it will just be us."

And one last thing: "Kaidan also wanted to apologize to you all. For not saying goodbye. He felt that he had disappointed you by leaving—the shame was too much for him to bear. He hopes you'll forgive him."

Tali found her optimism: "Absolutely. I understand his reasons. I probably would have done the same…"

"Definitely," agreed Garrus. "Kaidan will be back on his feet in no time, I'm sure of it. No harm done."

Wrex gave a heavy nod. "Yeah… Alenko…will make it. Headaches…I can relate. I believe in him…"

Liara stayed quiet, thinking everything over, somber now.

I remembered Kaidan mentioning to me a while back that he and Liara weren't close at all. He was distant toward her more than anything. So naïve of me at the time: I had teased him, asking if he actually liked her. I'd conceded again that she did have a really hot voice. Kaidan had insisted that he didn't see her that way, convincing me when he shared that there was another issue. He'd never gone in depth about what this issue was, only giving vague details about how it had to do with me somehow.

I wondered now if Kaidan had always known about Liara's feelings for Shepard, too, way early on.

Because if he knew all along that I liked Shepard—way, way more than Liara had, before—then of course he would've wanted to take my side. He couldn't put himself in the middle…and so he chose me.

"Now, onto the next mission," continued Shepard. "When we arrived to Thessia last week at the start of shore leave, you may remember that the Council called me. They informed me about a top-secret operation out in the Attican Traverse that could prove to be significant. They only needed more time to confirm the details. When I called you back here, I had just finished my briefing with them.

"The Council currently has a Salarian Special Tasks Group gathering intelligence on Saren's whereabouts on the planet Virmire, in the Hoc System. They had initially sent this unit to investigate what Saren was up to out there. The STG group needs our assistance in dealing with a sensitive issue. Since the Council wasn't willing to divulge more details, we'll need to go meet up with these salarians ourselves. Whatever they need help with, our mission is to support them and get the job done. Any questions?"

Since no one had anything to ask, Shepard looked to each of us, making sure that we all understood.

Satisfied with everyone, she added, "As is highly likely with Saren by now, we should expect heavy geth resistance once we arrive. No doubt we'll be coming in hot for this mission, right from the start. We have to be alert and awake, but we also can't afford to put this off for too long. With that said, Wrex, are you sure you'll be ready to go after you take those meds and get some rest? We'll need you for this."

"Yeah, I'll be good by then," reassured Wrex. "I'm feeling better already…sort of. I'll shake this off…"

"Good. I'll plot our course on the galaxy map once we're done here. I'm giving us six hours to reach Virmire. That should give everyone a safe amount of time to recharge and focus up. Once Joker makes the announcement that we're almost there, head down to the armory and gear up. We'll get in the Mako, touch down planetside, and then drive to the salarian camp. I want everyone to eat a meal and rest up until we arrive. No messing around—take your asses to bed, all of you. Am I clear?"

We all responded with our affirmative, respectful; glad that she cared this much about our well-being.

Instead of dismissing us, Shepard paused for a moment, considering something, as if for the final time.

Making up her mind, truly, she then said, "As you know, Lieutenant Alenko was my second-in-command during these past four months. Since he won't be back with us for a while, I had to make a decision about his replacement. Even though I prefer handling my duties as both captain and XO alone, I can't also be my own second. I would trust any of you with this position. But I could only pick one person."

Before I could even realize what was going on—the gravity of this moment—Tali, Wrex, and Garrus already looked to me, happy in their own ways, like they already knew, like this was the obvious choice…

Liara seemed unsurprised, too, like she had actually known the details for sure, beforehand.

Shepard walked over here, standing in front of me. "Chief Williams," she stated.

I bolted to my feet, saluting her through my confusion. "Sir…?"

For some reason, Shepard lightened up by my reaction, still sounding professional as she told me, "Despite the optics of my decision, I've made up my mind: I'm appointing you as my second-in-command. You and I are the only Alliance soldiers left. That's not to diminish your value to me or the weight of my choice. You have demonstrated all of the skills and qualities I look for with this position. I trust you to take command of our team if I'm incapacitated or otherwise absent. Do you accept?"

With Kaidan gone, I didn't get the feeling at all that I was the 'last one picked' here…

Shepard was completely serious about this.

Even though this was her asking me, I couldn't focus on that. I had such terrible flashbacks to Eden Prime, to the 212, to the unit I'd served with. Everyone except me, wiped out by the geth…until Shepard and Kaidan had found me just in time, pulling me into their mission instead. Sole survivor, and so many memories of the marines I'd fought alongside with…

I had practically abandoned everyone to save myself.

And I had ended up as the leader of my unit not long before they had all died under my command.

I needed Shepard to talk me through this first.

"Commander, I'm… I'm honored that you'd pick me. I'm just—I'm shocked that you did. I mean, I'm only infantry… And I'm an NCO. How can I be second-in-command…to you?"

Shepard had of course prepared for my reaction, listing off: "Ashley, you took decisive lead of the mission back on Feros once you and the rest of the team determined that I was in trouble. No one asked you to take over—you assessed the situation, and immediately charged in with admirable aggression against that army of Thorian creepers. You guided everyone the whole way, making the most effective moment-to-moment decisions that eventually led to our success. Or am I remembering wrong?"

"No, Commander, you're right… But—that was just one mission. I was emotional at the time over having lost track of you, pushing it away with my aggression. I wasn't level-headed about anything that day…"

"Regardless, your emotions, your aggression, and your natural leadership skills saved the mission."

I felt like now wasn't the best time to point out that she was the one who took down that Thorian, which was way more important than anything I could've done.

Shepard knew anyway, and listed again: "Chief, back on Noveria, I told you to take point, and then you did what needed to be done. Your tactical orders to Tali helped provide cover for Liara while she fought Benezia head-on. You gunned down an entire platoon of asari commandos on your own in that lab. Your presence on the ground, and, once again, your leadership more than made up for me sniping from inside the vents at the time. You didn't need my help: I trusted you to hold the line, giving me ample freedom to scan the field and lead us to a mission success. Unless I'm misremembering this, too?"

She really wasn't leaving me with a way out of this one… "Everything you said…is accurate, Sir."

"Ashley," said Shepard, sterner this time. "Everyone in the Alliance held you back—including you, and your own feelings from this military blacklisting you and your family. With your technical scores and qualifications, you should have been serving with the fleet. You should have gotten accepted into a military academy. You should have been a commissioned officer by now. You have to know that those bigots were only gaslighting you. You know that you're more than good enough for me. And you're an excellent soldier. I only want the best."

Trying not to get emotional over this, I gave her my first and final reason: "Commander, the 212…"

"You're a survivor, Ash. Always were. In my eyes, you're a phoenix rising from the ashes."

Sensitive to her judgment, her metaphor, I replied, "I hope you're right."

Shepard knew me better than I did right now.

So she asked me again, "Ashley, will you accept? Can I count on you as my second-in-command?"

I couldn't let her down. I couldn't let the team down.

I couldn't let myself down by letting my doubts, fears, and insecurities get in the way here.

Plus, if I was going to do this, then I really needed to grow the fuck up. There was no way I could guide the others in case of another emergency—if we lost Shepard again somehow—if I was too caught up with my stupid drama, or stuck chasing after phantoms in my own head. There was no way they would trust me if I blew up and did something worse than what I'd fallen into earlier. This was more important.

I had to save this immaturity of mine for when it was safe. For when I trusted Shepard to take care of that for me, alone, in private. Because I knew this would come up again—it wasn't just going to go away.

I needed her nurturing guidance, and that release with her so much more now.

Shepard needed me to be at my very best, just like I did, for my own personal growth.

I saluted her again. "Yes, Sir, I accept. Thank you, Commander. It's an honor. I swear, I'll give you my all."

Knowing that this all sounded familiar, Shepard's eyes lit up as she returned my salute…so proud of me.