Requiem of the Goddess

by Yoshiyuki Ly

Goddess of mind, goddess of heart - closed-off without consent, She cannot flourish; unlocked to the universe in trust and control, She protects from all outside influences. Only one sits atop the throne of Shepard's subjectivity. Ashley/FemShep, Liara/FemShep. Miranda/FemShep, Aria/FemShep. Power plays, intense loves. Renegon Infiltrator FemShep. Spans the Mass Effect Trilogy.

25. N7 Soldier

"The End of an Era" from Mass Effect 3: Citadel / "Gone" by The Weeknd

XXV. N7 Soldier

(Ashley)

Two years later, at Arcturus Station at last for my graduation: the end of an era for my N7 training…after I had barely passed my final assessment.

The end of an era for pushing back my emotions.

And the end of my waiting, hopefully.

Waiting a bit longer, I stood proud in my Alliance dress uniform, in this same ballroom from my big promotion, after the Battle at the Citadel. I was in my group with the other N7 Soldier graduates that had passed their final assessments under different instructors, around the same time I had passed mine. With the other graduates, the other classes—vanguards, engineers, adepts, sentinels, and infiltrators—there were probably a few dozen of us here, standing near the front of the room, just before the ceremony itself was about to start. Our instructors were in their uniforms, off to the side as they watched pretty much everyone present on Arcturus Station gather as our audience. So many people…

Not as formal as the night from my promotion, the energy here from the other graduates' friends and families in the audience felt a bit more laid-back. They all talked together in a wave of hushed excitement, happy to meet the members from Alliance Parliament that were here to oversee the graduation. I felt a lot of them looking over at me, recognizing what it meant for General Williams' granddaughter to make N7. I hadn't realized how politicized my initial big promotion was for the Alliance. And now I'd made it to this next milestone.

All at a huge personal cost that no one could see.

I saw some of the looks on their faces: how proud they were of me for pushing past my grief over Shepard, making it this far. Like I should've been incapable. Because I definitely should have been…

More than that, it said enough that I hadn't invited anyone to be here for my graduation. The only one I would've asked was Miranda—but she was busy, and she was Cerberus… Hidden identity and all, asking her to be here for me was just too much of a risk. Kaidan knew the general date for the ceremony. I hadn't confirmed anything to him. He was stationed out on Horizon anyway, working on improving Alliance relations with the human colonists there in the Terminus Systems—or, from what I could tell, that was the 'official' story. I didn't want to inconvenience Kaidan by making him come all the way out to Arcturus Station for me. The same went for the rest of the team, and for Sarah: I hadn't asked them to be here, hadn't mentioned that my graduation was today, to keep from inconveniencing them.

Even Admiral Hackett and Councilor Anderson had emailed me the other day with their congratulations, asking me if I wanted them to be here. I was flattered, of course, and I'd thanked them and everything. But I'd had to turn them down, not wanting any special treatment. I was still sore after nearly failing my last exam to make N7 in the first place. Like I had let my depression get the better of me. I could've died out there, but I'd survived, somehow. Plus, after betraying Anderson and Hackett with Cerberus, with the deception, those memories were way too fresh these days. I didn't want any other reminders.

So many more memories here in this place.

Remembering Shepard hiding out with Joker, trying to avoid the spotlight. Remembering her finally coming up here, pinning the commendation over my uniform: I looked down at it now, remembering how methodical she'd been in her touch, her concentration. Remembering how shy she was that day.

Alone without being alone.

Surrounded in solitude.

Listening to everyone's excited murmurs around me, I felt so far-removed from it all. Yeah, I could stand here with the other graduates and seem present. They were all way more into this than I was, talking together. Like there were some kind of rumors going around all of a sudden. Sounded like a big deal from just how much they couldn't shut up, like they were about to wet their dress uniform pants in excitement. Them—and our instructors and pretty much everyone in the audience. But I couldn't even care about that, whatever it was.

These memories ached with the weight of tomorrow.

Because I knew…

I knew, once this was over with, and I retreated back to my complimentary room here on the station—I wouldn't have any excuses anymore. No other reasons to put this off. No more strength left to keep staving off the rest of my emotions. Overpowering, overwhelming. I'd have no place left to run. No place to hide. Nowhere to go and nothing to do.

Nowhere, except straight down.

Sinking deep into all that I'd pushed away, needing to focus on my N7 training.

Nothing left to do but fall into this last of my patience, well past the deep-end of this sea of time.

I knew I probably only had to wait a little while longer. Miranda's vidlog from yesterday had made it sound like she was almost done. Like Shepard was almost back. But this wait…was seriously about to kill me. This weight was about to take me down. About to end me. Like my heart was about to fall right out from my chest, ripping at my arteries and breaking my blood flow completely. Waiting or not, living or not, I knew what to expect soon. Having to lie to Shepard's face. Having to put myself back in that position again of a liar, of her second. Having to live in the shadow of Liara's memory, of how much Shepard probably still loved her. Having to watch while she missed Liara, suffering hard without her.

After all this time, that shadow hadn't occurred to me.

Not until today.

Not until now, now that I was completely alone while surrounded by these other people.

I wished it didn't have to be this way. These aching memories, and that weight…

I was so not looking forward to going back to my room after this ceremony.

I had one last distraction for the time being: getting pulled out of my thoughts like this. Wondering why everyone—my fellow graduates, our instructors, the people standing across from us in the audience—still hadn't calmed down by now. Like there was some kind of giddy energy that had swept through the room, through the whole damn station itself. Even the other soldiers right next to me kept beaming, exchanging looks, and hoping I would notice. And I did, but this was about to piss me off. They all knew something that I didn't, some kind of news or gossip or PSA. They were so fucking entertained.

What the hell was their deal?

Staring out at the audience grinning at me, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. Movement. Light. Shimmering.

The glimmer of a tactical cloak.

The subterfuge from someone trying to sneak through the room unseen, trying to retreat to a corner.

Someone—whose silhouette was exactly her height. Slim and lean. Exactly as I remembered.

No way…

Heart pounding like crazy, I made my way around the other graduates. I left this designated area, hurrying out to the aisle. Dress shoes thudding against the shine along the floor, I caught up with that cloaked person. Everyone watched me as I did. Everyone smiled at me, smiling at these confused questions clear in my face. So happy for me, they waited for the rest to catch up. Catching up as I did here, physically, even while that person's shimmering form tried to keep sneaking away from me.

I called out to them with an edged suspicion: "Hey!"

They stopped in their tracks.

Not a single movement from their shoes sounded against the floor as they came to a stop.

Frozen there, I caught the shape of their clothes, of their shoulders ridging out in straightness, of an Alliance dress uniform. Phasing as light over lightlessness, that glimmering movement shined over the length of their hair. Flowing down their back that faced me. So long and beautiful, even in this view.

Such a beautiful ghost stood here before me, blurring as my eyesight did.

"Shepard, is that you…?"

Exposed, the person turned to look at me. Slowly, they did. Steadily, they reached me.

Those murmurs from everyone around us grew louder and louder, about to hit a fever pitch.

Fevered from how heated my face and neck were, everything soared once this person broke their cloak.

Swelling as a crescendo, this feeling in my heart and this smile on my face were both about to explode, from the sight of her again!

Like seeing the sun indoors, she lit up everything around us, illuminating my world—the whole universe.

Shepard gave me a shy look. Reserved, averting her eyes, trying not to smile herself: she stood so tall in her endearing awkwardness, not knowing what to do with all of these people smiling at us, with so many of them close to tears. Not knowing what to do, again, when I let out the happiest sound, jumping into her arms. Staggering back a bit, Shepard caught me, holding me close. As stiff as she was, I couldn't even mind, couldn't even stop myself from gripping her so, so tightly—as much as everyone celebrated us here together, clapping like this was the real main event today. And it should have been. It was!

She hadn't expected me to spot her. She hadn't expected me to come up to her like this, practically seeing her from a mile away before. She really hadn't expected me to kiss her like this, renewing me from this taste of her, igniting me all over again; burning up the past two years into a blaze of my dreams, fulfilled, just from having Shepard's lips over mine again. Looking just the way I remembered in her uniform—with her hair down for me, for the occasion, with her sunny complexion soaking in the light of the room, and her sunlit eyes beaming down on me through her shyness—I absolutely knew this was her. Not an impostor. Definitely her, definitely here with me, back home again after so long.

Insulating me from the crowd, Shepard burrowed her face next to mine. Escaping the crowd, escaping the attention, but never my attention crowding around her, she kept me close. I didn't even realize I'd started crying until I felt this wet spot over Shepard's uniform, under my face. And she pre-empted me, moving her hand between us just enough to stroke these streaks away, adoring. Gorgeous and handsome, she gazed down at me with so much patience and affection, shaped differently from what I remembered, but still filled with her essence. Like her love for me had grown even while she was gone.

Shepard gave me the same blossoming in her voice, still so low, smooth, and sexy: "Hey, babe."

God, I'd missed her calling me that.

"Hey, Skipper…"

"Two years older now," she observed, eyeing me; absorbing me, every new, minor detail. "And you're even more beautiful than the last time I saw you. I didn't think that was possible."

Grinning so much, my face had started to hurt—but I loved it. I loved her. "Yeah, well, I thought it was impossible for you to come back. But now you're here. You're home with me. You really are." Taking more of her in, she was so incredibly stunning, I could hardly stand it. Endless attraction and a heavenly arousal shaped my voice lower, teasing: "Plan on sticking around this time, stranger?"

Feeling the same way about me, Shepard let her smile speak for itself.

That smile of hers, with the brights of her teeth shaped by her lips at such a confident, charming angle.

So sublime.

---

Pacing around my complimentary officer's room on the station, grinning so much more, I could barely contain myself. Now that the ceremony was over, and now that I'd officially made N7, Shepard had promised to come here to see me in here. She wanted to surprise me with something else. She wanted us to chill out in bed and catch up and kiss and make out and just be in each other's presence, and I couldn't wait to see her again! Checking everything over after my shower, I made sure nothing was out of place, that everything was perfect: my bed with Alliance colors; my regular-sized T-shirt and the short, tight boy shorts I had on, showing off my legs; my rose-scented perfume, with just a little bit on; my hair, still loose down my shoulders, layered and styled the way Shepard liked from two years ago; and the few things I had out on the tables like my terminal and a few datapads, nice and orderly.

Practically squealing, my face hurt again, and I couldn't stop giggling, but it was so worth it!

Taking my terminal with me from the table, I plopped down on the couch in front of the TV. I lay down here, setting my terminal over my bare lap beneath my shorts. Closing out my tabs with all the sports news sites speculating about the Super Bowl tomorrow, I pulled up my email. I just had to send Miranda a message about this. I was tempted to just send her a bunch of exclamation points, since she had to know about this surprise. My heart and my thoughts were at a full maximum speed right now—exclamation points only made the most sense to me. But I managed to restrain myself, writing up an actual message to Miranda instead. I lit up more when she responded pretty much right away:

To: Miranda – HEY!

Miranda,

Why didn't you tell me?! Was this supposed to be a surprise? Oh my GOD!

She just showed up at my graduation! Everyone started clapping! I melted in her arms, I swear.

If you kept this quiet on purpose, then thank you. Seriously, thank you for everything. You're my angel.

-Ashley

.

From: Miranda – Re: HEY!

Ashley,

Mmm, yes, this was supposed to be a surprise. Otherwise I would have told you.

I'm pleased to see that you're happy.

Knowing Shepard, I'm sure she has more surprises in store for you. Have fun with her. I'll see you aboard the ship later.

-Miranda

.

Smiling over Miranda's reply, I smiled way more over the firm sounds of knocking at my door.

That had to be her!

At least, I hoped it was, since I'd be pretty embarrassed if anyone else found me in just my T-shirt and boy shorts. I set my terminal back down on the table, hurrying over to the door anyway. When I opened the door, my heart bloomed right open from this new sight of Shepard still in her uniform—with her top half practically hidden behind the gorgeous bouquet of white roses in her hand. Everlasting, as eternal as that smile on her stunning face, the perfectly-shaped petals and thorn-free stems were so radiant, I could smell the heady aroma from here: sophisticated, powerful, and endlessly alluring.

Shepard smiled even more over this giddy look on my face. "Congratulations, Ash," she said, handing me the flowers. "I knew you'd make N7. You were built for this. I'm proud to share the title with you. You deserve it."

"Thank you, Skipper," I told her, welcoming her gift into my arms. "Having you here for my graduation made everything that much better. I'm really glad you surprised me like this. These are beautiful." I pulled Shepard inside the room with me, locking the door behind her. "So…are you gonna fess up now?"

Shepard tilted her head, unintentionally cute. "Fess up about what?"

I laughed from behind my roses. "You're the one who recommended me for the program! Aren't you?"

That grin on her face said it all—caught red-handed.

"Uh-huh, I thought so!" I teased. "That anonymous commendation right before my promotion had to be from you. And the flowers you sent me while I was with my family. Everything. I've wanted to thank you for that for the longest. And I can never thank you enough for changing my life the way you have. Now that you're back again, everything's complete. This is the best day ever."

Reaching over my flowers, Shepard leaned down to kiss me. Fresh sweetness of her cinnamon-flavored breath, she moved into me more and more. Suave and self-assured in the way she moved, the way she held me close around my waist, she had my chest fluttering down to my stomach, turning me on, turning me on so badly. After such a long time, feeling her again like this was a miracle—just as she was, forevermore. Finally tasting her again after that last night on the Normandy, and after not having really kissed anyone over the past two years, Shepard satisfied me in how perfectly her lips fit over mine, thick on thick as a sexy, supple high; she blanketed me in nostalgia; and she electrified me with the promise of more, of tomorrow, and of every single day after that.

When she pulled away, Shepard found how dazed I was. She smiled wide, needing to give me more.

"Then I'll have to one-up that soon," she teased right back. "I'm pretty sure I'll be able to pull it off."

Intrigued, I smirked at her, asking, "Oh, yeah? You have something else in mind for me?"

"Soon, babe. Soon."

"Looking forward to it, Skipper."

Teasing even more, I backed away from her, heading farther into the room. An invitation by my lingering smirk, by the look in my eyes: Shepard followed after me, her focused sight locked to mine. I made sure she kept on following me over to my dresser, where I set the flowers down over the surface, loving.

Seeing these here, and having Shepard with me again. It was all so perfect. Like the most amazing high ever.

I felt myself rising up above the past two years.

Like Shepard and I were meant to be together, forever. We'd always work things out. We were soulmates. We'd always find a way to come back together again. We belonged together, and nothing and no one could ever, ever, ever get in the way of us. Of what we had together, so perfect and pure.

With us standing not too far from my bed, Shepard held me from behind. So close and attentive, unexpected, she wrapped her arms around me in such a slow burn, coiling and coiling. Coiling in protectiveness, tightening in overprotectiveness, she made me moan in a pleased satisfaction—from how new this felt, evolved from all of her touches in the past, elevated as much as she elevated me.

Watching her hold me like this through the mirror felt picture-perfect in how sensual this was.

I settled my hands over her arms, over the sleeves of her uniform. "I missed you, Shepard…"

Locking her lips along my neck, making me coil harder, she murmured over my skin, "I missed you, too, Ashley. The time can't compare, I know. But…I understand."

That time, watering my eyes all over again: "When I lost you two years ago, it tore me up. I prayed for you every day. And now you're back… It's like my prayers were answered. Even though I knew you'd be here. Someday. Eventually. Still feels like a miracle to me."

Shepard didn't know what else to say—"I'm sorry…"

Sniffling a little, I smiled a lot more at this repeat of reality through the mirror, reinforcing the truth.

The truth that she was here, and she was here to stay.

Turning around, I eased Shepard backward, to the bed behind her.

While she sat there, leaning there, I went ahead and took off her uniform jacket. As I folded her jacket, setting it down off to the side, Shepard took off her shoes, knowing what I wanted. Giving me what I had in mind, she let me push her down to the bed, over her back, lying there fully. As tall as she was, I had to give her some more time to situate herself. For comfort, for more. And then I crawled on top of her, staying on my knees while I gazed down at her underneath me. This endless span of her hair fanned out behind her had me captivated. The unending range of her confidence as she held my legs, almost grabbing at my thighs, exactly as I'd imagined: she reminded me over and over of how perfect she was.

Perfect, just like this, with the stars outside my window gazing in, lighting everything in softness.

Even with how obvious this all seemed, I felt compelled to ask her, officially:

"Hey, Shepard…maybe this is a weird question. I have to know. Are we—still on? Contract and all?"

Blinking slower in surprise, Shepard gave me her obvious answer, "Of course we are, babe. I still want us to be together. Contract and all. Unless you wanted to renegotiate something. I wouldn't blame you."

"There isn't anything I wanna renegotiate, necessarily," I mentioned. "We can talk about it later."

"All right, then," she accepted, smiling. Shepard noticed I was still uncertain. "What's the matter?"

"I'm a girl with a lot of baggage…a ton more baggage after these past two years. Can you handle that?"

Clear, certain, confident: "Yes, Ashley. If you need me to, I'll even carry your bags for you."

I laughed softly. "Still a gentleman, then."

"For you, always," promised Shepard, holding me closer. "It goes without saying, but I want you to join me on this mission. I'm sure you know about the Collectors, what they're up to. I want you back with me. I want you to be my second-in-command again. It'll be just like old times. Better, this time."

"Mmm, I'd love to," I accepted. "I'm definitely up for it. You know this means everything to me. It's who I am. Who I want to be."

Reaching up, finding my neck again with her lips, she said to me, "Welcome back to the team, Ash."

Beaming over her tone, her care, even with these cropping thoughts, I replied, "Thanks, Skipper…"

Shepard noticed this, too: "Tell me the rest. Whatever else is on your mind."

Pools of guilt building in the pit of my stomach. "Did Miranda tell you about the two of us…?"

"She told me."

Overanalyzing Shepard's toneless tone, I couldn't know what to make of her reaction.

Not even a reaction.

She just kept looking up at me in a neutral sort of way, not really giving me anything to go off of.

Disbelieving, I asked her, "And you're…not mad at me?"

"No, babe," said Shepard, still neutral. "Why would I be?"

"I mean, I know it was only an emotional relationship, and we didn't have sex or anything, but…"

Shepard emphasized, "Ash, it's obvious to me that you needed her. Maybe you still do."

"Yeah, I did need her," I confessed. "And I still do. Even though I have you… That's why I feel like this."

Knowing what was best, Shepard moved over the bed again, situating us one last time. She set her head over the pillows, elevating enough. I fell into her arms, right at her side as I lay against her, letting her hold me like this. Hiding away with my head along her chest, breathing in this smooth smell of her, of the fabric of her shirt, I didn't know what else to do. I needed her to hold me, and she did.

I needed her to be patient with me, and she was.

"Miranda didn't give me any details," she specified. "Then again, I didn't ask her to. I can imagine that you leaned on her through the worst of it. She seems reliable. Like she cares. So, I get it. I understand."

"But I knew you were coming back," I anguished. "I knew and I got attached to her like this anyway. Not even that. She and I have—feelings for each other and everything. We never actually kissed. We never did anything except sleep in the same bed whenever we spent time together. She would hold me, and I would feel better. Whenever we were apart, we would email each other constantly. The only reason we didn't fool around was because of you. I didn't want to hurt you. I couldn't go through with it."

Shepard reminded me, "Babe, I was gone… Yeah, I was coming back. Doesn't change the fact that I was out of your life for two whole years. You had her support. Miranda took care of you, didn't she?"

"Every day…"

"Then it's okay."

Holding me tighter with her understanding, Shepard convinced me that it really was okay. That she didn't blame me at all. That she could never be mad at me for this. She let me be upset in her arms, letting this out, letting her back in like this after I had missed her for so long… But even though I had her immediate acceptance, her forgiveness, I hated that I had this situation she needed to accept or forgive in the first place. I hated that I couldn't just be pure for Shepard, only having feelings for her…especially after what we'd gone through with Liara, and how much that whole thing had fucked me up.

Because Liara had really fucked me up. Badly.

I felt the effects now. More, now that I was open like this. So much more now that Shepard was back.

And even more of it was unseen. I couldn't pin everything down. Exactly how she'd affected me. And how I'd probably made it all worse over the years by pushing myself. Constantly pushing myself. Never taking a moment to slow down and take stock of my emotions. Just always shoving them aside, running ahead. Needing to prove myself. Needing to be perfect, to have everything I wanted.

I hated that I had to lie like this, too, keeping so many secrets. Not only about Liara, about what I had done. I felt like I couldn't tell Shepard the full extent of how hard I'd leaned on Miranda while she was gone. Like there were plenty of nights where I was at home without her, and I would send her an email at a stupid hour, telling her how close I was to breaking. Every single time, she would get on a QEC call with me within minutes—even if I'd woken her up out of her sleep, and even if she had a transport to catch in the morning to come see me. Miranda would talk me through everything. She wouldn't let me go through it alone. She'd remind me that she was there for me, one hundred percent. She'd bring me back up again with her words, with how much she cared about making sure I was all right.

Shepard was strong for me now, carrying the bags of my baggage exactly as she'd promised.

Miranda was the one who'd sorted all of my baggage for Shepard to carry in the first place, organizing them by trauma, by place, by person and by extremes. She helped me see everything as clearly as I did:

This valley of separation between how much I trusted Shepard and Miranda, emotionally, was what got to me in the end. Because I had made a business out of lying to Shepard about so much before, not wanting to set her off about Liara or make her pick sides. And now I had to do it again, but way worse.

All out of fear.

All to keep her arms around me, exactly like this.

So many more lies, or at least secrets, for now: I couldn't begin to tell Shepard about the intense dreams I had about her. Sexual in terrifying thrills, digging the deepest wants right out from my head. Not only about her. Whenever I had those types of dreams about Miranda, it was always with Shepard present somehow. Whether she was busy supervising us while Miranda took advantage of me at my neediest, weakest points; or Miranda and I were both on our knees together, giving her a blowjob at once, with Shepard wielding that power over us; or I was off to the side, mesmerized while Shepard fucking railed Miranda out of pure rage for 'stealing' me from her. She was forever there in the scene, somewhere.

I had no idea how to start that conversation with her. With either of them.

Because there was something about this dynamic that had unlocked me. I couldn't explain all of it.

Like it was the perfect end to all the shit I'd dealt with before, with Liara holding so much over my head.

I was the one in control. I was the one calling the shots. Shepard and Miranda would do what I wanted.

And there was more to it than that. There was always more. Especially with these two, with me as three.

Realizing this again, stronger and clearer now, I felt liberated. I calmed back down, centering myself.

Calming me more, Shepard kissed away the rest from my face. She brought me back up again. She made me smile, and laugh, just from how attentive she was—so much more affectionate than she ever was with me in the past. Holding me tighter, kissing me harder, all laced with sweetness and joy: it was nothing like her, not from what I remembered, but I loved it. I loved her more like this.

Shepard asked me, "So you're all right, then?"

"Yeah, I am," I told her. "All thanks to you. You're still a big softy."

"You know I love you, babe. I can't help it. If you need me to kiss you more, I will. I'll do anything."

Okay, this was definitely new, too.

When Miranda had warned me that Shepard might've been different, I hadn't expected this.

"I love you, too, Shepard… And I'm really happy. I was scared you'd be mad at me. I'm surprised."

Shepard hummed, thoughtful. "Well, speaking of confessions," she began, "I'm not sure if Miranda told you—she made a chat room for the two of us. To talk about my health. If I need to. I guess she wants me to let her know if anything's broken with me. I feel fine, though. I just figured you should know."

"That's a good idea," I agreed. "Doesn't bother me. You two should talk about whatever! Not just that, or about work. I don't mind."

Shepard paused.

Narrowing her eyes. Confused.

I grinned at her, asking, "What? Why do you have that look on your face?"

"You say that like you don't care," noticed Shepard. "Like you don't think Miranda's a threat at all. You're perfectly fine with letting me talk to her?"

I laughed. "Shepard, I'm way more important than her and you know it. So there's no risk. I trust you. Besides, if you start feeling something for her, then we'll just talk it over. We'll work it out. Because that's what we have to do now. It'll be fine."

Humming in disbelief, she didn't know what else to say.

"Skipper," I tried, still grinning. "Listen, Miranda's a real hottie. I'll give her that. She's perfect. She's incredible. She's confident as hell. Intelligent, too. And I bet you like that. But she's not me. You love me, not her. So there's no problem."

Shepard seemed to more or less accept that. For now, anyway.

"Well, back to the chat room with her," she continued. "She sent me something already. Earlier today."

"Yeah? What'd she say?"

"Some context first," prefaced Shepard. "Not long after we got back to the ship after our first mission, I noticed…something was wrong. With the crew. They had some major clique wars going on, grouping up to talk shit about Miranda behind her back. Even after I'd named her as my executive officer, I found half the crew in the mess hall together, calling her a bitch and anything else you can think of. It was bad. Bad enough for me to shout them down and kick them off the ship. Miranda overheard me. She followed me while I took everyone to the airlock and made them leave. Things are much quieter now."

"Oh… That's totally fucked up. I think I remember Miranda mentioning some of the crew were a pain in the ass. At least to her, personally. But they were some of the rare few in Cerberus who weren't racist. They had some pretty decent track records. So she felt like she had to put up with them…for you."

Shepard wondered, "Why? Because she knew I wouldn't tolerate racists and xenophobes on my ship?"

"Well…yeah."

Silence for a moment, thinking, and then, "She didn't have to do that for me."

Out of respect for Miranda's privacy, and to keep my promises, I couldn't tell Shepard the reasons why.

"Anyway," she went on, "Miranda sent me a message about the whole thing."

Too nosey, too interested and curious about this, and so mischievous—"Could I see?"

Shepard opened up her omni-tool's chat interface, showing me.

At the top, I saw the name of the chat room, The Prodigal. Off to the side, Shepard and Miranda's first names were there, as the two members of the room. The invite button was blocked out. No one else could join. Complete privacy.

The grin on my face swelled and grew as I read the first and only message in the room:

[09:27:30] Miranda: Good morning, Commander. I understand that you'll be gone over the weekend with Lieutenant Williams. Before you head out, I wanted to thank you. For how you handled that situation with the crew. I didn't expect you to notice anything with them. Or at least, I didn't think they would be stupid enough to say what they did right in front of you. And even then, I didn't anticipate that you would care enough to take action. Not for me. From what I heard, you made it clear that you were angry over the way they chose to treat me, as your executive officer. In fact, you were very specific about it.

I'm sure you can see why I'm surprised about this. Our first day working together wasn't exactly what I would call balanced. It was very up and down. You seemed exhausted by me. For good reason. I suppose I wasn't adequately prepared for the change in routine. Going from watching over you constantly—caring for you over two years—to interacting with you as your own person…it's jarring. I still need to get used to this. Either way, thank you again for dealing with the crew. You have my utmost appreciation.

When I finished reading her message, I couldn't help thinking that Miranda was so sweet.

I'd always known that she was. But this was new. This was extra special.

Because I knew where these sentiments of hers had come from. I saw them in between her words, between every single letter, exuding there, even through text. I saw the way Miranda wanted to pour her heart out and tell Shepard the whole truth about how she felt. She held that back anyway. She seemed way too conflicted to put her feelings out there. At least this soon.

I couldn't tell if Shepard had picked up on that yet.

Though I did notice that she hadn't replied to Miranda's message…

"So, why didn't you reply to her?" I prodded.

Shepard only shrugged.

"Skipper, you're such a grump. Say something back!"

Pursing her lips, unimpressed, Shepard made herself respond:

[14:01:11] Me: It was nothing. Don't worry about it.

I pushed at her chest, questioning, "What the hell was that!? Could you not be a dick right now?"

Shepard widened her eyes at me in shock, like she seriously didn't think I'd react like this.

"Don't even, Shepard," I warned. "Miranda dropped her pride to send you a nice message. To thank you for standing up for her. And you didn't reply at all until I told you to! You kept her hanging for, what, four and a half hours? You have to know she's driving herself crazy over this! That little response of yours isn't going to cut it. You can do better than that."

Only after the fact did I realize: I could have started an argument between us, saying things like that.

But, to my shock, Shepard didn't get offended or cuss me out. Nothing.

She actually listened to me. She took a moment to reconsider, for me. Because of what I wanted. As she should have. I was the one in charge here.

Readjusting, she typed something else, something more, amending:

[14:12:53] Me: And maybe I was emotionally exhausted yesterday. I'm not the best with meeting new people. Especially when those people are already invested in me. Because of that, no encounter between us will ever be balanced. I'm not your equal. You know this already. That's just the way things have to be.

Even still, I don't think you should be all that surprised by what I did. You know why I was able to use my tactical cloak with you during the mission. You demonstrated enough of your capabilities for me to make you my executive officer in the first place. I also have zero tolerance for the behavior I witnessed from the crew. You don't have to overthink things with me. But I also see that it's kind of pointless to tell you that. Seems like it's part of who you are: overanalyzing every single detail about someone. About me.

Anyway, I've said enough about this. I'll let you know when Ashley and I are on our way to the ship.

That was a lot better.

I still couldn't tell if Shepard knew about Miranda's feelings. If she'd picked up on them. Or if she felt the same way at all, even a little, after this one day of knowing her. I thought it was so crazy that I wanted them to like each other this way. Because two years ago, I would've lost my mind at the thought of Shepard wanting another woman. Insecurities, doubts, fears about Shepard's attention straying from me—whatever. But then I'd reflected enough to include those possibilities in our contract, about bringing someone else in as a third. As a secondary interest, with Shepard and me still keeping each other as our main priorities. For threesomes, occasionally. For something more than that—on my terms.

Judging from their communications so far, the power dynamic between Shepard and Miranda was clear.

This was exactly what I wanted.

Shepard had closed her omni-tool. She gave me a look, needing to know what was on my mind.

I smiled at her and said, "Promise me you'll actually respond to her sooner from now on. Miranda really cares about you. So don't be a stranger with her, okay?"

"I will if you want me to," she conceded.

I teased, "I do want you to."

"And if Miranda messages me while you and I are out?" asked Shepard. "You still want me to reply?"

I confirmed, "When it's a good time, yeah. You'd never be rude with me or anything. I trust you." Then the idea came to me, for some extra control and amusement on my part: "Better yet, why not set a special notification on your omni-tool? That way, when I hear the sound, I'll know. Just silence everything when we're busy together, as usual." Opening her omni-tool back up, Shepard did as I asked, picking a low rumble for the sound. And it was like magic, getting her to do something like this for me. Like a straight-up high. "Thanks, Skipper! You're the best."

Shepard wanted me to come out and say it now. "Ashley…"

I gave her a sweet smile this time. "Yeah?"

"Babe, do you seriously think I haven't noticed what you're doing?"

"Mmm, I don't know what you mean!"

Shepard laughed a little. "Uh-huh, sure," she humored. "Then I'm gonna come right out and ask: you want Miranda to be involved with us. Like that. Don't you?"

As happy as this made me, I had to scale it back—"Shepard, look, we don't have to talk about this yet. Today's the first day you're back. The very first day for us again." And she agreed with me. But I could tell she still wanted an answer. "Okay, fine. You're right. I do want Miranda with us like that. All three of us, her and me, you and her. As long as I'm still in charge, and you and I are the main couple here, I don't see anything wrong with it. She's already proven to me that she can keep boundaries."

"Because she respected your wishes about not having sex while I was gone?"

"Yeah, she did," I replied, realizing just how important that was to me. "She really, really did. Miranda never pressured me. Not once. I mean, the most she ever did was kiss me on the cheek at New Year's. But even then, she had my permission. We both held back a lot. She was always so patient with me."

Shepard considered this, again, for me.

"Besides," I went on, "I think if you give her a chance, you'll like her. Not too much, though."

She wanted to know, "What gives you that impression?"

"Well, let's just say Miranda respects your power. In a different way than I do. There's a lot of potential between you two. I want to see it for myself. In the meantime, you should get to know her better. Talk to her about whatever, like I said. But you don't have to force anything with her for my sake. If you want this, then you want it. If you don't, you don't. We won't move forward unless we both agree on it."

"That's fair. But how do you know Miranda would be open to something like this?"

"I have a pretty strong feeling she will be… Either way, we'll talk to her first. See what she says."

And I hoped she said yes.

Because I couldn't wait for the chance to rub this in Miranda's face, for fun. Getting to see her buckle, all from the fact that she couldn't have my girlfriend. As perfect as she was, Miranda couldn't have this one thing. Because I was already sitting on this throne. I was already here and there was nothing she could do to change that.

God, I couldn't wait!

"All right, babe," allowed Shepard. "I'll talk to her more. Think it over. We'll see how it goes."

"Sounds good!" I said, hugging her tight. "So, what else did you want to do this weekend? You made it seem like you have more plans for us before we head back. Got anything in mind?"

"I do, actually. We can chill out for the rest of the day today. Nothing fancy. But tomorrow, we're leaving on another transport. For a surprise. I'm taking you out on a date."

I paused. "Tomorrow…"

The Super Bowl was tomorrow…

New York Giants against the Beijing Dragons. In Tokyo. I was rooting for the Giants to pull through.

I hadn't caught the stream live at least three years in a row now, because of training or work.

And Shepard didn't know anything about sports, so of course she wouldn't have known…

She raised her brow at me, asking, "Will that be a problem?"

The way she asked me that was so…pointed, and sexy.

Shepard was so much more important than some fucking game. I could catch the vid later, again!

"No, it's okay!" I insisted. "We can head out tomorrow for sure. Whenever you want. Let's definitely keep chilling out for the rest of the day. I missed being around you like this…"

Shepard was all too happy to stay in bed with me for the whole day. We didn't rush into anything with sex. Just taking our time first, talking to each other for now. I got her caught up on how my N7 training went…while conveniently leaving out the details about my near-failure during my last test. She told me stories about her own training from years ago, comparing to mine. I also told her more about the past two years in general, what I went through. She listened with so much patience.

After hours of more talking, more making out, I got hungry enough for dinner. I was amazed that Shepard only needed to eat once a day from now on—and she didn't even need to sleep at all—thanks to the upgrades she told me about. We found something to eat on the station, forcing ourselves to deal with the sudden onslaught of attention from the Alliance soldiers and brass around us. But it was a good kind of awkward, since neither of us really seemed to mind. We knew that this was just the beginning.

What mattered most was that Shepard gave me such a special feeling. The way we talked with so much ease, the way she looked at me like I was her one and only—she really made me feel like there was no one else in her heart. Like she didn't actually love Liara anymore… And now we had continued our relationship right from where we'd left off. Like Shepard really had been deployed all this time, and she'd learned to love me more. As if we'd kept up with each other across time and space; as if my faith for her had reached her through death, and then through her coma later on, sustaining her forever.

---

This question of whether or not Shepard still loved Liara—it stayed on my mind throughout the night until I fell asleep, seeping everywhere.

I had the craziest dream about it, too:

I was in some kind of palace glittering in the sunlight shining in from the windows. Light colors, bright reflections. And I was on a throne, sitting there in my Alliance uniform. Actually feeling like I belonged there. The throne as Shepard's protections, keeping her safe from outside influences. Sitting on this throne because I was the one protecting her. Because Shepard was in front of me in her stealth suit, kneeling. Bowing her head to me. Even with her full power radiating from her in the sun, she chose to do this for me. I would never have more power and influence than she did. Not realistically. I didn't want to, either. It was more that Shepard gave me her subservience with her authority, with her command. She did this even while her kneeling leg, her combat boots, and her fist upon the floor soaked up the violet of the blood pooling out over the marble; while I had my foot over Liara's head as she lay dead on the marble floor, after I had shot her.

Somehow, through this dream, it felt like Shepard had helped me take that shot.

As if her entire reality and perception had shifted in my image.

And it exploded this high she gave me. So much power. So much influence. So much importance, because I finally fucking mattered. All of my hard work and pushing myself and hating myself and despising myself for how inferior I was before: it had all paid off, now that Shepard had elevated me in this special, unique way. No one could take this away from me. No one.

Not even Miranda.

As amazing and lovely and beautiful and smart and capable and sexy as Miranda was, Shepard only wanted me.

For as long as Miranda had loved Shepard, having obsessed over her for twenty years, none of that mattered.

Those twenty years couldn't compare to the seven years that I had spent loving Shepard, more. Way, way more. And now she was mine.

Shepard would only ever want and love me. No matter what happened, we would always be together. With me, sitting on this throne of her subjectivity, bending her will to suit me, what I wanted.

All of that stayed on my mind when I woke up in her arms in the middle of the night. I kept thinking about it while I showered and got dressed, half-wondering about the possibility and half-wondering where Shepard planned on taking me for our date—wondering even more why she wanted us to leave at this weird hour, instead of leaving in the morning. I had already planned on waking up around this time, though. Just a few hours later. Since the Super Bowl was in Tokyo this year, the time difference was pretty crazy. It was already the afternoon over there, with the game starting at 6:30pm their time.

I wasn't even thinking clearly by the time I got dressed. Signaling some of what was on my mind, I put on some nice jeans and sneakers—and a Giants throwback jersey for my favorite linebacker. Mostly blue, with white numbers and font, and the classic red-striped lining. I obviously didn't have plans to watch the game live that day, but there was something about this that felt right. I couldn't explain what it was.

All I knew was that this feeling repeated when Shepard let me pick out her clothes for the day. Or the night. I sorted through the outfits in her holo-closet, settling on something simple to match me. Her own masculine style of nice jeans, one of those white, long-sleeved button down shirts I liked on her, and some black leather engineer boots. I liked these kinds of androgynous looks on her, with men's clothes that fit her body in a slim way, without drowning her at all. Blending both worlds; making people look twice at her, from this style with her long hair down, blurring the worlds she blended so well.

Once we were ready to leave, I had my things sent to the Normandy, while Shepard and I left Arcturus Station in a regular transport.

I obviously had no idea where we were going. I did notice that the captain and everyone else aboard seemed to make a point of not saying anything about our destination. Not really minding either way, I leaned on Shepard's shoulder while we sat together during the short ride, enjoying our silence together. I was tempted to check my omni-tool for more sports commentary leading up to the big game. But I knew I'd only spoil myself. Instead, I spent the whole ride taking in every single detail about Shepard, making sure she was still the same. I liked taking her hand in mine, observing: checking the lines along her palm, the sharp curves of her knuckles and the bends of her fingers, and the thinness of her wrist. I liked feeling her body heat next to mine. I liked that she didn't mind at all, letting me enjoy her like this.

And I did wonder about something that was missing.

No one looked over at us, wondering about heat. That fire. The one Shepard and I had always given off whenever we were together.

What happened to that weird glitch? Had Miranda fixed it?

More importantly, that question about Liara was still on my mind.

Caressing Shepard's hand like this, I couldn't put my finger on this feeling.

I wasn't sure if Shepard was only in love with me now. As much as it had fucked me up in the past, I remembered that sense: of how Shepard was capable of being in love with more than one person at a time. I wasn't sure if I was the same way. I wasn't in love with Miranda. I loved her as someone who was insanely close to me. Even though I'd never said the words to her. Even though she probably felt the same about me and had never said it, either.

I had no idea if Shepard just hadn't faced her feelings yet, or if they were actually gone.

There was no way I could bring myself to ask her. Too many fears, too many traumas.

When we left the transport to the outdoor docking bay of our destination, I stopped.

This sunny day shining down on us at the transport station.

All the tourists walking by after their arrivals, dressed in their jerseys for the Dragons or the Giants.

The Japanese flags flying above our heads, and across the indoor station: white and red, everywhere…

"Shepard!" I said, pressing my hands over my mouth. "Are we…in Tokyo?!"

Smooth and suave, Shepard smiled at me, replying, "For the Super Bowl, yes—"

I jumped into her arms, squeezing her. "Oh my God, no way! How did you—? But I thought you had no idea! I mean, you came back yesterday! And you still managed to get tickets for us!?" Holding me tight, Shepard just kept grinning at me, like she had even more surprises in store. I reached up to kiss her, so over the moon. "Skipper, thank you… Thank you so much. This is seriously a dream come true for me. I could never afford the tickets on my own before. I could have, this year—but before you got here, I…wasn't in the mood. That's changed now. Sharing this with you means everything to me."

"You know I'd do anything for you, babe," she told me, about to make me melt in front of everyone. "I had to make our reunion one to remember with a very special date. I wanted to make you happy."

"And you definitely did!"

Shepard asked in such a teasing way, "Think this is in the running for the best day ever?"

Letting her hold my hand, I teased her right back, "We'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

Guiding me through the transport station, knowing exactly where to go—Shepard had the most handsome, winning smile on her face. Because she knew she was good. She was so good. She made me happier from how much she glowed, taking me through the station to the underground metro. I felt how protective she was, too, whenever it got too crowded around us with all of the other tourists—mostly human: Shepard would shift to wrapping her arms around my waist, leading me forward while she pressed her front to my back. Never letting me forget that she was there, even if I couldn't see her. Never letting us get surrounded, even with a bunch of these tourists stopping to stare at us, taking pictures of us with their omni-tools. The news and gossip sites were probably on fire right about now.

While we took a bullet train to Shibuya—one of the busiest towns in Tokyo, where the stadium was—I noticed more and more of the tourists, and some of the locals staring at us, talking about us, and wondering about us. Shepard didn't seem to mind, letting me sit by the window while she stayed next to me. I was impressed that she knew this place well enough to not need any directions. She explained that she'd been to Tokyo often enough for Fashion Week back in the day. So this was nothing new to her.

And thank God it wasn't.

Because once we left the train at Shibuya Station, it was like a madhouse.

Holding my hand again, Shepard led us through the crowds of locals and tourists all mixed together, trying to get to their trains and exits or wherever else. Despite the chaos from all the people, the underground station itself looked so clean and orderly to me, with a pleasant type of lighting everywhere. Bright juice and yogurt stands caught my eye, along with a bunch of job magazines neatly packed along the walls, and ads everywhere. Even with the many signs along the walls and columns pointing in helpful directions, this place was like a maze, with stairs and corridors all over the place.

I wasn't surprised to see tons of tourists looking around like they were lost, even with their omni-tools pointing them where to go. They stood around in the red and yellow of their Dragons jerseys, or the blue and white of their Giants jerseys instead, trying to piece together their location with where to head next through this mall-like place. Plenty of the locals were kind enough to help them out, offering helpful directions and sending them off with a smile. But the other locals were way too absorbed in their omni-tool calls or their conversations, actively avoiding all the drama.

In between that chaos, so many people kept pointing us out, like they were excited to see us here.

Shepard did her best to ignore them, navigating us around the crowds taking up space, trying to get a better look at us.

Before I knew it, she led me up a long set of stairs, bringing us outside, close to Shibuya Central Street.

Towering over the more immediate area leading to the trains, I saw the town's buildings tempting my sight up to the cloudless skies. So many ads and billboards stacked along the sides of the silver and glass skyscrapers: videos and static images for clothes and perfumes, pop music idols and boy bands and girl bands in streetwear and more colorful outfits, the latest tech products and upgrades, and sports commentary and highlight reels from the Giants and the Dragons leading up to Super Bowl. Huge screens lit up the already-sunny skies, lighting down on all of the people walking around here, playing more ads, and showing the news that was already talking about Shepard and me here together.

All of that bustle and noise overlooked the pedestrians walking over the gigantic intersection in the streets, crossing from all directions. Even though there weren't that many ground vehicles, the place was still packed from the hundreds of pedestrians moving and stopping with the traffic lights. Most of the actual traffic was higher up from the skycars breezing past all of those ads and news screens.

Closer, plenty of the pedestrians from the Shibuya Crossing made their way through here, heading into the many different entrances leading to the trains. An open plaza, a lottery stand, and a memorial statue of a cute-looking dog named Hachiko: this place felt like it had so much history behind it from people coming and going over the years.

"Shepard, this is insane," I said out loud, gripping her hand tighter. "You know your way around here?"

"Took me a while to figure it out," she admitted. "And this is just one major part of Tokyo itself. There are a ton of other towns with their own personalities—for shopping, going to the beach, heading to bars, clubs and restaurants, or even religious places. Not all of them are this crowded. I like the variety."

"Yeah, I can imagine," I replied, enjoying what came to mind. But all of these people surrounding us: taking pictures, and smiling, and calling their friends over to get a better look… "Did you have this many admirers the last time you were here? You know, treating you like a celebrity or something?"

Shepard pointed out, "Ash, whether I like it or not, you and I are celebrities. Kind of hard to ignore."

I smiled in acceptance. "Guess so, huh?"

"Well, considering the crowds," she noted, taking a look around, "Did you want to get something to eat first? There's a restaurant I have in mind for us…but I already know we're going to have company. We can go straight to the football stadium from here if you'd rather do that instead."

"Let's go to the stadium!" I decided. "I'd love to head to that restaurant you have in mind—but yeah, this crowd is a no-go. We wouldn't be able to have any privacy. I think we had enough to eat for breakfast earlier, anyway. So let's just grab some food together before the game! You know, at the concession stands! I've always wanted to do this for the big game."

Shepard smiled down at me, over how excited I was. "All right, babe," she allowed, having us head over to that huge crosswalk. Our admirers followed behind. "You have a taste for anything in particular?"

Obviously: "We have to get beer, Skipper. It's mandatory. No exceptions!"

Hiding her sour face, she told me, "Whatever you want is fine with me."

Knowing that Shepard didn't like beer, I leaned against her, glad to have this moment with her, this day.

Walking through these packed streets of Shibuya with her, I couldn't help thinking how amazing this felt. Especially since I was in such a different headspace during my graduation, just yesterday. Another milestone in my career. My hard work had paid off. And yet all I'd been able to think about was how depressed I would be as soon as I made it back to my room. Only for Shepard to surprise me, showing up again; coming back into my life at the exact moment when I needed her most.

Heavenly, heaven-sent.

She really was the woman of my dreams.

And so dreamy, as beautiful as she was in this sunlight shining down on us.

The people following us to the stadium knew it, too. They saw how happy Shepard made me; they saw how confident she was from making me this happy, making her seem taller, stronger. Larger-than-life.

But by the time we reached the colossal view of Tokyo's football stadium, our followers couldn't stick around us anymore. The ones who didn't have tickets for the game got turned away by security at the massive parking lot. And the ones who did have tickets had to disperse anyway, since the security officers didn't want them stalking us on stadium grounds. I didn't mind either way, though Shepard did seem relieved to get rid of them. I knew she hated the attention, only putting up with it for my sake.

We attracted even more attention from everyone in the parking lot, anyway. So much space that seemed to go on for miles: packed with skycars already, showing off team colors, there were tons of people out here tailgating right before the game. Drinking alcohol together, blasting music from their car's speakers, and just throwing a huge party as separate groups of friends and families, all together here at once. They definitely noticed Shepard and me walking by as we held hands: raising their beer bottles in our direction, cheering like crazy, like we were a main event, they welcomed Shepard back after so long—not really caring about how she got back, only that she was here. Here with me.

When we reached the long, long lines at the stadium to get in, the same story played out again. Thankfully, it wasn't entirely the same. Shepard had us skip the lines. She brought me off to the side, having us go in through the special entrance for Spectres and other important figures. Passing through the security system was painless—except this thing still thought that Shepard was dead. The system didn't care about the sidearm she had concealed in her pocket, but somehow this was an issue. The officers standing watch nearby understood enough, letting us both through without any problems.

"They need to fix that," grumbled Shepard, holding my hand again. "At this rate, everyone in the damn galaxy knows I'm back. But they still can't update their security measures."

"You'd think they would have by now," I agreed. "I'm sure they'll get on it soon enough." Looking around the huge space where we were—filled with those concession stands with tons of food—I noticed that the entire stadium was empty. "Hey…why'd they let us in so early? There's no one else here yet."

"You'll see, babe. Come with me."

Letting her lead on again, I felt myself smiling non-stop.

Kaidan was going to be so jealous once I told him about this! Then again, he'd probably find out on his own whenever he checked the news. Whenever he had free time in between his top-secret work out on Horizon, anyway. Hopefully I'd get the chance to tell him everything from start to finish.

And when Shepard showed me this next surprise, I started grinning way more, mesmerized:

She brought me to the evergreen of the field itself, brightened under the sun.

Tens of thousands of vacant seats spread out across this vast space, rising to the top row up so high and far away, almost like an uninhabited city.

Completely empty.

Aside from the security guards standing at their posts here and there, no one else was around. They saw us but didn't say a word. They knew we had permission to be here. They seemed just as focused on protecting us as they were on protecting the stadium in general.

Shepard walked with me to the grass. For now, we stopped at the fifty-yard line.

Halfway between the end zones, between the goalposts hovering over the ends of the field, I had to catch my breath. Being here like this, with this exact view, made me feel so small, but in a good way. Like I couldn't compare to the greatness of this space, of the promise here. Because I remembered my old aspirations from back in high school: how badly I'd wanted to make it out here as a pro player. I could've done it, too, if not for everything else that had gotten in my way. If fate hadn't decided that it had other plans for me, steering the course of my life away from these dreams of mine.

Thinking more about what could've been, I let Shepard take me out to the very center of the field. We ambled together along the blocky white line making the yardage. Splitting the field in half. Halving the entire stadium down the middle in this perfect symmetry.

At the very center of the field, Shepard had us stop here together.

Holding my hands in both of hers, we faced each other, with Shepard in the direction of one of the end zones, and with me facing the one behind her. Looking at each other, focused on each other. So enamored, so in love—I couldn't believe how perfect this moment felt. As hypnotized as I was with Shepard gazing down at me like this, it was like the entire dynamic of our relationship changed on the spot. Like we'd suddenly known each other for years and years; like we were seriously high school sweethearts, still together later in life. Still going strong after all this time.

Even more special, I knew that Shepard wanted to say something to me.

Shaded from the sun thanks to her, I waited for her words, delighted to see her so shy like this.

"Ashley," began Shepard, holding my hands tighter. "I can't tell you how glad I am to be here with you. Not just at this stadium, in this city. Being alive again, being with you again…I couldn't be happier. I know I'm still not the best at showing my feelings. I'm pretty sure you know anyway. Otherwise, you wouldn't have waited for me for two years. When I found out you really hadn't moved on…it affected me. A lot."

Swinging our hands between us a bit, I told her, "Skipper, are you that surprised I waited? You know me. I could never move on from you. You're my life. My hero. You're everything to me… Especially after you left your legacy to me, to take care of. I can't tell you how much that means to me, even today."

Shepard grimaced, admitting, "Can't say I'm much of a hero after I died once already…"

"Hey, don't say that… You're back now. That's all that matters."

Noticing that I was about to cry, Shepard pulled me into her arms. Protective, secure, she rocked me a bit, swaying back and forth to comfort me more. Once again, she surprised me with these little changes that felt so momentous. These small touches from her added affection made me feel even smaller, again…in the best way possible.

"Ash, thank you," she expressed, warming my heart so much. "For waiting. For being so patient for me. For not giving up on us. I know you were in a lot of pain, even with Miranda around. I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd decided to move on. With or without knowing that I'd be back. I appreciate that you chose to wait instead."

"And I'd do it all over again if I had to. Even if we could only have a single moment like this. I would."

"I know you would, babe. I needed to hear that. It helps me. It really does."

I reached to kiss her jaw, hardened from her efforts to keep herself together. "I love you, Shepard. I'm not going anywhere. You have my promise."

Holding me closer, inhaling the smell of my hair at the roots. "I love you, too. I'm not going anywhere, either. Let's stay on this path. I want to see where it takes us. I have a pretty good feeling. So you have my promise that I'll be here. Whatever happens, we'll see this through. Together."

---

After Shepard and I spent more time out on the field—talking, making out while standing in place—we had to get going. With the game about to start soon enough, the stadium wanted to start letting the public in. And right when we made it back to the concession stands, the place was crowded, wall-to-wall, filled with people from around the world, from across the galaxy. Mostly human, they waited in more of those long lines to browse the food kiosks with mostly Western food and Japanese food. I saw a lot of people walking around with nachos and pretzels, rice balls, crapes.

Beer was the staple. Whether people showed off their red and yellow colors for the Dragons, or the blue and white for the Giants, pretty much everyone had an eco-friendly bottle of beer in their hand. Cotton candy and beer; burgers and beer; croquettes or takoyaki or dumplings—and beer. And I wanted some.

Shepard had the power to cut in line, of course, but I didn't want us to do that. We found a stand that had a short enough wait—for beers, and those warm, cinnamon churros she loved so much. Everyone stared at us, as usual, while we waited, while Shepard paid for everything at these ridiculous prices. She didn't mind the staring this time—or the prices—seeing how happy I was about us being here together, how I couldn't stop smiling. Once we had everything we wanted, she led us back outside to the stands.

I was so giddy about having this experience with her, I almost didn't know where we were headed. Not exactly. I couldn't imagine what type of seats Shepard had managed to get for us last-minute like this. All the other people crowding around us, revved up and excited for the game—they'd no doubt bought their tickets weeks or months ahead of time, picking out the best ones if they could afford it. There was no way we could compete with that. So I was ready to love just about any seats she'd gotten for us…

Until she surprised me again, leading us right to the first row elevated from the field, behind the railing:

Right at the fifty-yard line!

"You're kidding!" I blurted out, standing in front of our seats. "Shepard, how'd you pull this off?!"

Shepard gave me an easy smile. "That's my secret, babe."

While we sat down—with Shepard on my left, and me on the right side—I noticed that the immediate seats around us were empty. A handful here in the first row, and a few more directly behind us: no one was there. No one was allowed there. With all the other people packing into the rest of the seats everywhere else, I knew this wasn't a coincidence. By this point, the entire stadium was filled up as a sea of team colors: waving flags, raising signs, people cheering already and showing off their hardcore face paint, all in between their excited conversations and speculation about who would win the game.

Sitting here with Shepard on our own secluded island, this close to the action, was so perfect.

And it was even better when she leaned closer to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.

Everyone nearby had their eyes on us, watching, intrigued and energized even more.

Those cameras down on the field focused on us as much as they focused on the crowd, too—streaming live across the world, across the galaxy over the extranet.

But it was simple enough to tune it all out, living in the moment.

Holding our beers and food in my lap, I hid away a bit in Shepard's hold. Smiling against her neck like this, I had a vague view of the rest of the stadium, of that evergreen and the rest of those colors out there, blending with all the cheering, all the noise. Smelling her scent up close like this again—over her skin, over her shirt—I knew that this was real. Not just a dream that was about to end way too soon.

Insulated and protected here, I whispered to her, "You thought of everything, didn't you?"

"Always," she whispered back, just next to my ear. "I did consider those seats in the suite instead. Up near the top, where the rest of the celebrities and politicians sit together. But I figured you'd rather be closer to the action like this."

"You figured right," I praised. "I'm glad you picked this spot instead. Don't get me wrong—sitting with the high-rollers would've been a good time, too. I love that you wouldn't have thought twice about that for us. This is special, though. We're still kinda secluded. And I like that. I want you all to myself…"

Shepard laughed a little, low and deep. Just like her voice sounded so close to me, so clear: "Either way, Ash, I wanted to be here with you. Maybe you can teach me more about the game while we're at it."

I laughed, too, asking, "You'll drink this beer with me, then?"

"Yes, babe. Whatever you want."

"Mmm, you must really like me…"

Shepard kissed me, what she could reach of me at this angle. "You know I do. I love you."

So serious and profound in her meaning, with only a few words; with her actions reaching the skies. Lifting me with this eternal high, high up on the throne she'd given me.

I was almost disappointed when the players started coming out onto the field, when they held the coin toss to see who would get the ball first. But I sat up anyway, glad that Shepard kept her arm around my shoulders: caring, shielding. She stayed like this with me once the game started, once the Giants kicked the ball off to the Dragons; once the cheering across the stadium picked up steam even more. I loved that she gave me this comfort. I loved that Shepard paid attention to me like this, in between watching the players down on the field. I loved her so much. Fit to burst, I had to hold myself back. As much as I wanted to make out with her all over again, there were way too many eyes on us.

Instead, I let myself enjoy this time with her, more and more as the game went on.

This tangible excitement in the air—and Shepard's attention on me—kept a smile on my face. Play-by-play, I enjoyed watching the teams down on the field, picking out every little detail in the Giants' stalwart defense so far. The crunch of their helmets against the Dragons at the line of scrimmage. The way the crowd went crazy when the Giants managed to sack the Dragons' quarterback. And the way they cried foul when the refs threw a flag at a possible penalty, already—the players had to obey the referees' shrill whistles at any cost, though, despite the complaints.

I wasn't too worried. The Giants were the underdogs here. They knew they had to pull through.

And Shepard was convincing enough, but I knew she was lost, trying to follow along.

While she drank this beer with me, I was all too happy to explain everything, teaching her the terminology and more about the rules. She was a pretty quick learner I wasn't surprised at all.

Every time Shepard named what happened—like when the Giants pulled off an interception, catching the ball during a pass from the Dragons—I made sure to reward her. Feeding her a piece of this cinnamon stick did the trick. She smiled at me each time, knowing how much I enjoyed this. She'd even learned about first, second, third, and fourth down while the Giants pushed for their first touchdown. And when they didn't manage to score by that point, she picked up on the concept of punting the ball back to the opposite team. Gaining yardage, pushing to the end zone, staying on the field and not going out of bounds, not getting tackled or letting the ball drop to the field, and going for a field goal whenever a touchdown probably wouldn't happen in time: she learned it all.

Once the halftime show was about to start, neither team had scored a single touchdown. The Dragons and the Giants were both at three points from the field goals they'd scored. Their defense dominated the plays so far, not letting the quarterbacks from either team get much done at all. I was kind of annoyed, hoping that this first game with Shepard would've been more exciting or dynamic. I guessed I just had to be patient, waiting to see what would happen in the third and fourth quarters after this.

Overhead, the retractable roof of the stadium had closed for the halftime show, darkening everything around us. In this dark, the stage and the lights had more space to shine, setting off a real spectacle from the performers, for the audience that had flooded the field down below—like a full-on fireworks display in the night in between all the music and dancing. I wasn't really paying attention, though.

Shepard and I had decided to stay in our seats together. With the cameras focused more on the show than on us this time, and with a bunch of the crowd having moved down to the field, we had a little more privacy. Not enough for her to kiss me as much as I wanted. Not enough for us to do more than that. But just enough for Shepard to keep whispering in my ear, telling me all about how much she missed having me in bed with her. So self-assured, she sent my imagination off, way off—even more with the way she touched me, her hands roaming down my legs over my jeans, firm and needing. She definitely had me laughing, flirting; enjoying her so much like this. Like I almost wanted to skip the rest of the game and sneak off with her somewhere. But then our tickets would've gone to waste…

As much as Shepard knew me, she had no idea how badly I needed her to fuck me. Right now.

Not knowing anything at all, someone interrupted us, ruining my high:

"Uh…hey, Lieutenant Williams? Is that, err, you again? With…Commander Shepard?"

Irritated, I turned around to look at who this was.

And once I saw that familiar face, with him wearing a Giants jersey, I remembered. Again.

"Vega?" I asked, surprised. "You're here, too?"

James tried to smile at me—jumbled, nervous. "Yeah, it's me," he said, sounding the same. "Here with my homeboys, as usual." He gestured to his four friends behind him, drinking beer and wearing their own Giants jerseys. "Just, uh, saw you here with the commander, and—well, we were surprised…"

Small world.

Shepard gave me a look, as if to ask who the hell this was. She didn't remember him from the 94.

I smiled, gesturing for her to hold on.

"You're not seeing things," I told James. "Shepard's back, in the flesh. Don't ask how, though—it's a long story. I'm surprised to see you here, actually. Didn't you get shipped off somewhere before?"

"Right, right—I did," he confirmed, relieved that I remembered. "I was off on Fehl Prime for a long time. Things…didn't exactly go as planned." I could tell: something in his eyes had dimmed, like he'd really seen some shit out there on the colony. "Anyway, me and my boys decided we had to catch the game. Wouldn't miss this for anything. Fancy seeing you and Commander Shepard here." He remembered one last thing: "Oh, and, uh, sorry again about that weird stuff from two years ago. Back at the 94 with that friend of yours. I was stupid, trying to shoot my shot as best as I could. Obviously didn't work for me."

"It didn't work at all," I agreed. "But that's in the past. Old news. So don't worry about it, Vega."

James gave me a half-smile. "Appreciate it," he shared. Then he looked to Shepard, saluting her. "Commander. I'm sure you don't remember me. I saw you and Lieutenant Williams at the 94 way back when. The two of you had the whole city buzzing, especially back on-base. I'm James Vega. Made lieutenant myself not too long ago. Meeting you in-person is a real dream come true."

"At ease, Lieutenant," said Shepard, hardened. She looked him up and down. James relaxed—barely. "You said you saw the two of us at the club. Were you the one busy staring at us the whole night?"

"One of many, I'm sure," tried James, grinning; not meaning any harm. "You and Williams turned just about every head in there. It was pretty clear you were together. I knew I couldn't say anything."

Shepard scowled. "And then you had the nerve to pull some shit with my girlfriend while I was gone?"

James sputtered, "Err, Commander, I-I mean, it wasn't like that—"

Unimpressed, impatient, Shepard stood up.

Imposing, even with them standing at the same height—she wasn't fucking around here.

James knew it and backed away, defending himself, "Hey, wait a minute! I'm not trying to start nothing, Ma'am. I swear! I apologized to your girlfriend, twice. I admitted it was stupid! I saw Lieutenant Williams with her friend—and they both looked like they were upset over you being dead. I just figured—"

Hardened more, Shepard made herself clear: "I don't give a damn what you figured, Vega. In fact, if you know what's good for you, you'll stop right there. Because if I hear another word out of your mouth, I'll only make you regret it." Stunned, James took another step back, finding that his friends had left him to fend for himself. He then looked to Shepard, her brimming rage. Something in his eyes dimmed again, broke again—"Get the hell out of my sight. If I find you again, then we're gonna have a problem."

Cautious, James tried his luck one more time: "You mean…we don't already have a problem?"

Shepard reached for her sidearm in her pocket. "Don't fucking test me!" she raged. "Leave, now!"

Not taking any more chances, James got the hell out of here with his friends, as ordered this time.

I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd left the stadium entirely, abandoning the rest of the game.

But when Shepard sat back down, she couldn't leave the incident behind her. She steamed in silence. Still raging in her thoughts, she didn't see me, how worried I was. It wasn't until I set my hand over her pocket—over the shape of her pistol there—that she came back to reality. Then she saw the look in my eyes. How worried I was. How concerned I was over her anger, her reaction like that. Like she really would've shot James dead if he hadn't listened to her. Like she would've lost control.

Holding her face this time, I asked her, "Shepard, what happened back there? Why'd you get so mad?"

"I won't tolerate anyone disrespecting you," she responded, firm. "Not for anything. Especially not while I was gone, while I wasn't there to stop it in real-time. I hate cowards like him."

"Okay," I accepted, still worried. "You weren't like this before… You're way more aggressive now."

"Ash, the only difference is that no one was stupid enough to pull this type of shit in the first place."

"You mean you would've had this same reaction any other time?"

Shepard glowered. She then spoke in a low, cryptic warning, filled with her possessive intent: "I've done worse than this without you knowing. So much worse. Anyone who dares to cross you will end by my hand. This isn't anything new. Trust me."

I shifted in my seat, turned-on all of a sudden.

Coming back down to relative peace, Shepard spent the rest of the halftime show, the rest of the game holding me tight. She had my mind, my imagination going places. Wondering about her meaning, wondering about more than that—I wished she would've given me more details. I wished Shepard would've told me what she'd done that was worse than what she'd shown me.

Beyond how different she seemed to me, from what I had seen, there was something more.

With Shepard, there was always something else. Something greater. Something far beyond my eyes.

And I should've fallen in love with her more for it. All of it.

The only thing that held me back…was my own truth.

Knowing that I kept so much from her. Lying by omission. Lying indirectly.

I tried to set that aside, at least for tonight. I wanted to enjoy our time together. I wanted to forget. I wanted to feel so much more than the loneliness, the numbness I'd spent two years pushing away. I wanted to see for myself that I'd made the right choices, even though I had to lie to her from now on.

---

Capping off such a great day: I was ecstatic when the New York Giants pulled off a win! Things looked bad in the third quarter, with the Beijing Dragons getting two touchdowns in a row right off the bat. But the Giants managed to come up from behind, never losing momentum all throughout the rest of the third quarter and for the entire fourth quarter. They crushed the Dragons big-time, winning 41-17.

Watching the Giants, the whole team and the coach and the owners in the middle of the field, celebrating over their championship and their rings—it was so magical, especially with Shepard with me. I couldn't stop grinning over the silly commentary, how they'd picked us out in the crowd for this moment, claiming we were good luck or something. The game had apparently had a huge ratings boost with us here, too. The galaxy's two most famous Americans, rooting for the American team… I wasn't specifically born in America, even though my family had roots there. It was amusing as hell, anyway.

To top it off, some of the Giants players came up to Shepard and me after the game, inviting us to their after party with them. They were so nice about it, too—and silly, trying to salute us even though they'd totally never been in the military before. I remembered that Shepard had been to these before back in the day, so she knew how to handle things. Seeing that I obviously wanted to go, she accepted for us!

Showing up at the high-rise apartment for the after party that night was so surreal. The place was dark with most of the lights off, letting the moonlight shine in on these already-darkened, slick surfaces and furniture, giving the place a starry sort of mood. Football players and all kinds of other celebrities had packed into the place, talking, dancing, laughing loudly over drinks, and just having a good time in general. Everywhere I went with Shepard throughout the apartment, I saw someone I recognized from a movie or TV or wherever else. A lot of them were happy to come over and meet us: welcoming Shepard back, picking out that we were girlfriends, thanking us for our service in the military; complimenting us on how hot we were together, and encouraging us to hang out more in their world, so to speak.

I knew Shepard had no intentions of partying it up with the rich and famous in between our mission to stop the Collectors. A bunch of people recognized her from her old fashion days, too, practically begging her to go back to that career of hers. But Shepard was at least cool about talking with everyone, seeming familiar with this kind of thing. She stayed close to me the whole time, too. Never letting us get separated. Never letting go of my hand, or my waist. Determined to stick right by me, she wasn't overbearing or anything. Not too possessive or territorial at all, if that was even possible for her. Just enough to make it clear to everyone where we stood with each other, and to not try anything.

No one was dumb enough—or drunk enough—to mess around with us. On purpose or otherwise.

But, again, no one said anything about that heat. Not even while they were right next to us. So Miranda had definitely fixed it.

I was kind of disappointed. I almost missed Joker's stupid fire jokes now.

Dark, alternative music blasting louder as time went on, and the football players and celebrities getting drunker by the minute, everyone was surprisingly polite. Nothing hostile, nothing weird or creepy.

The environment definitely helped Shepard relax with me some more. Not enough to actually dance with me in the crowded living room. But enough to stay posted on the wall while everyone else danced around us. I held her around us shoulders, smirking at her, at this hazy look in her eyes. Hazing more, Shepard kept her hands along my waist, over my jersey, feeling me sway my hips in-time with the music. She stayed still; she couldn't keep her hands off of me. She kept her eyes to mine, as aware as we both were of what went on around us. Those other people on the couches, especially, had started getting handsy with each other, like they needed a room or right about now.

Shepard and I needed one, too.

For now, though, I let myself enjoy this.

Raising her brow at me, Shepard asked, "Something on your mind, babe?"

"Maybe," I said, smirking more. "What gives you that idea?"

"You're obvious about it, that's what."

I laughed a little, against her lips. "Then tell me what you think is on my mind. Go on. I wanna know…"

Vibrato of her deep voice thrumming through my mouth: "You missed me touching you in all the right ways. The way you wanted. The way you needed. I see it in your eyes, Ash. You can't tell me otherwise."

"Or maybe you just have a dirty mind," I claimed, as soaked as I knew I was from her voice alone. "Who knows? I could actually be thinking about something else. Like this city, how incredible it is." I loved that she pulled me closer; I loved that she grunted hard when I swayed against her, into her—slow and deep—proving her right that way instead, all as a huge tease. "I think…we should come back here sometime. For some extended shore leave with the team. Tokyo sounds like it has a lot more to show us. We could have some real fun in a place like this, especially since you know your way around. We could hit the hot springs. The beach. Or we could find a nice love hotel to mess around in. I bet you could really fuck me right if you had enough of that sake in you. So…how about it?"

Gripping my waist harder, Shepard locked me in place, so strong in the way she controlled me—maddening. "We'll come back for shore leave," she promised, pulling me in more. "Whatever you want, babe. You don't even have to ask."

"Good," I said, trying not to squirm too much. "I want you to do what I want, Skipper… We'll have a great time together. Won't we?" She grabbed the back of my thigh, groping me hard over my jeans; groping right up to my ass, owning me, making me groan: "Shepard… Shepard, that isn't fair. Now you're the one with something on your mind. I was just trying to have a nice, boring conversation with you—"

"Don't be a fucking brat, Ashley. I'm not buying it."

Hard, firm, controlling: Shepard slapped my ass, sudden enough and sharp enough to make me cry out. Not over the music. Not enough to attract attention in this dark haze of dancing, lust and alcohol. Well enough to get me to open my legs, for her to slip one of hers in between me. Between, against, goading:

"Fuck, that's not fair, either," I breathed, moving with her movements—her jeans against mine, finding how wet I was underneath after so long… "Shepard, wait! I'm already a mess. I'm a huge mess over you. You're making it way worse…" Still grinding her leg between me, against me—even in this restraint—I couldn't help the way she goaded me. Feeling completely helpless to her power like this, I gave in a little, switched on. "Damnit, I need you. I missed you so bad while you were gone. Touching myself wasn't enough. Nowhere near enough. You're too good at this. Too good at turning me on. I just…"

"You just what?" she questioned, hiking higher against me.

Hiding my face against her heated neck, quieting my sounds. "I'm scared someone's gonna hear me."

Shepard was right to point out, "Ash, everyone around us is wasted by now. No one will notice…even though they should. If I were them, I wouldn't want to miss it. You're so beautiful when you're like this."

Scared of getting caught, and stiffening my upper body.

Scared of how much power she still held over me, and clawing at this wall, this fortress of her.

Needing, and relaxing from the waist-down. Even opening myself more, spreading my legs over her thigh. Giving Shepard more access. Making it easier for her to fuck me like this, just like this. Riding her like this, in between me, in between the music, the bass thundering through me. Getting past the years of missing her like this. Letting her claim me like this again, making me forget, helping me move on.

I was about to lose myself in her. "Commander…"

Especially when she reacted to me, then, moaning in a way that almost slipped out of her control.

So close to setting me off, until I felt it:

My heart was about to burst.

My face and my neck were so red from my own control, holding back my tears.

Out-of-body as much as I trusted Shepard to handle me while keeping an eye out for anyone watching…

I couldn't. Not in public. Not like this.

Noticing me, hearing the way I started sniffling—Shepard pulled her leg away, holding me close instead.

"Ash, hey," she soothed, stroking my hair. "It's okay. I'm here now. I'm right here."

Needing this affection from her, I insisted, "I want you, Shepard. I really, really do. But I don't trust myself to not break down crying in the middle of this party. If it wasn't for that, I wouldn't want you to stop. I promise. That's the only reason. I don't want anyone to have a reason to look at me like I'm…"

Shepard understood completely. "You don't have to justify yourself," she said. "I won't force you into anything. You know that. So don't worry, all right?" Nodding in acceptance, I loved that she chose to be this gentle with me. "We can head to the ship now if you'd like. Call it a night. Unless you'd rather not."

"I want to stay here for a little longer. This party is amazing. I'd rather be alone with you, somewhere."

Looking around behind me, she noticed, "The balcony outside is packed. Everywhere inside the apartment is full." She considered: "Or we could find an empty bedroom down the hall. I saw plenty of unlocked doors down that way. We don't have to have sex or anything. Not until you're ready. Do you want us to take a look?"

"Yeah, okay," I accepted, smiling. "Let's see what we can find."

Smiling back at me, Shepard held my hand. She guided me away from this area, down to that hallway.

On the way, I spotted an unopened bottle of white wine on one of the tables we walked past.

I went ahead and took the bottle for us. No one would notice, anyway. Chuckling, Shepard seemed to agree with my thinking. Just like she'd said: everyone, or almost everyone at the party was wasted by now, or getting close to it. They all looked like they were having the time of their lives, anyway. So hopefully they would leave us alone in this bedroom.

Shepard and I found an empty room at the end of the hall. The others were already taken.

We got here just in time.

Starry night aesthetics, like the rest of the apartment. This giant window close to the bed stared out to the rest of Tokyo in this view: the bright lights glinting through the clear skies, the tall buildings with those screens and ads, all the skycars flying through traffic, and the ongoing celebration in the air from the game. And I loved this mood everywhere in the room itself, fitting with the hour. Already past one in the morning. With this time difference going on, I was still wide awake. Despite my emotions getting in the way of things, this day was incredible. I didn't want it to end. I didn't want any of this to end.

Patient, thoughtful, Shepard sat on the bed as she watched me.

Her eyes shined in adoration, reflecting the city lights like a night sun.

Through this dark, the bass from the music still reached us here, washed-out.

Smiling more, I walked over to Shepard, nearing. Setting the bottle of wine on the nightstand, I was all too happy to have her attention like this. I stood here in front of her while Shepard stayed sitting down. I let her hold me like this: just as patient in the way she kissed me, just as thoughtful in the way she touched me. And so creative in reading my mood, knowing what I wanted. Knowing how to be this sweet with me, and so kind and understanding.

Clasping my lips with hers, so divine, I had a taste for that wine now.

"No wine glasses," I noticed, way too late. "Ugh, damnit. I don't want to drink this out of the bottle…" Smirking, Shepard accepted that she'd forgotten about the glasses, too. She'd of course had other things on her mind. "Hang on, Skipper. I'll go find some for us. Should be able to find them in the kitchen."

"All right, babe," she replied, kissing me one last time. "I'll be here. Call me if you need anything."

Making my way to the door, I teased her, "You know I'll be fine, silly. You're so overprotective."

So damn smooth as she watched me go: "And you love that I am."

Not disputing that at all, I only winked at her before leaving the room.

But once I made it about halfway down the empty hall, I stopped.

I stared ahead at the rest of the crowded apartment, as bodies moving in drunken dancing in the night.

Something didn't feel right.

At all.

Like I should've stayed in the room, forgetting about these damn wine glasses. Like I'd missed out on something by standing here, trying to pick up on this strange feeling. Because the longer I stood here, the more I missed out on my answers. More context, more explanations slipped through my fingers, escaping my hold, my reach.

At the same time, I had the worst feeling about actually returning to the bedroom.

If I discovered what this was about, it could've ended badly.

Thinking of it that way, I hesitated here for what felt like hours. Even though it was only a few minutes.

I considered at least going to the kitchen like I said I would. Finding those wine glasses. Buying myself more time. Using that time to shake off this feeling that might not have meant anything.

That would've been…cowardly. For sure.

So I went back to the room.

When I locked the door behind me, washing out the party's music again, my stomach dropped.

Shepard wasn't on the bed. I couldn't see her anywhere. I only saw that bottle of wine still sitting on the nightstand, with the label facing this way. I hadn't had the bottle like that before. So Shepard must have turned it around, to look at it. She must have, and that was why…

That was why I found her sitting on the floor, next to the bed. Next to the nightstand.

Sniffling, breathing hard. Staring out at nothing.

The vague light from the window at this angle: it reached some of her face, shining over the tearstains running down her skin. Highlighting the red webbing through her eyes.

Shepard had only stopped herself when I came back in here.

Forever refusing to let me see her cry, or break down, or be weak in any way whatsoever.

Just like before, like always.

Ignoring me, Shepard kept on staring out into the void. She obviously knew I was here. Otherwise she wouldn't have stopped. She wouldn't have tempered her emotions now, ironing them with anger. Harsh rasps of her breaths through her throat sounded harsher still as the moments passed. Like she hated that I saw her this way; like she hated that I kept looking at her instead of saying something already.

Dreading the worst, I looked at the bottle of wine. The label.

Sauvignon Blanc.

One of her favorites, from how often I'd seen the bottles in her stashes at home, on the Normandy.

But she'd refused to drink this with me. Like it was forbidden.

Like it reminded her of someone else…

"Shepard," I tried, voice shaking. "This wine…is it the one you and Liara used to drink together?"

She nodded.

Still refusing to look at me.

Such a catastrophe brimmed in my core, right in my stomach.

Nerves clashing with my conscience.

I knew what I had to say. What I was supposed to say. The only thing I could say to save our relationship. To save myself. To keep her with me.

I had to offer my condolences. Just that. Leaving it vague. And then no more. Not another word.

Because if Shepard found out what I'd done, then that was the end of us. Fighting the Collectors, defeating the Reapers—none of it would matter anymore. Absolutely nothing would matter in the face of her rage, against this betrayal. Hell, she probably would've killed me. All of her protectiveness would splinter right back in my face, exactly like that. I saw it. I saw that worst case scenario too fucking clearly.

So I gathered the last of my cowardly courage, and worked my voice to say the words.

To give her those vague, vague condolences. Those damned lies.

But then, Shepard turned her head to look up at me. Hollowed out, her eyes had lost that sunlight. Her eyes caught my intentions, what I was about to say. And then she shut her eyes in a sharp, stinging pain. Turning away from what I planned on doing. Bracing herself for the sudden death from my words. As if she honestly, truly believed that if I said anything, then I would end up killing her instead.

True fear trembled through her as she regarded me.

The moment she showed me that, I realized…

I couldn't do it.

I couldn't lie to Shepard's face like this.

I could not look her in the eye and give her those lies. Not now. Not ever.

Especially not once she let more of her anguish show, crying in a hardened edge. Only a little. Only for about a minute. But enough to make me see the way I had wracked her in so much pain. Enough to open my eyes, to show me that this wasn't about Liara, about her being gone. Not even when I'd left the room before. Because Shepard cried now for the same reasons she'd cried then, while I was in the hallway. There was only one explanation…even though I could hardly believe it.

When she let out a shuddering breath, running her hand through her hair: ruffling, fanning herself, this sweat that had gathered over her scalp and the back of her neck, I understood. I knew. I saw that this was my fault. That she was upset over me.

Crying over me like this.

I still didn't get why. Miranda had sworn to me that she wouldn't say a word. I knew she hadn't.

Gathering more of that false courage, I asked, "What's the matter…? Why…are you crying like this?"

Breathing out again, her voice nearly broke as she said, "You came this close, Ashley. This close to shattering my heart. Ending me. Completely."

She couldn't have known.

She couldn't have known.

"But… But I don't understand," I tried again. "How's that possible? What are you feeling right now…?"

Wordless, Shepard turned to face me. Still sitting on the floor. Still staring up at me as I stood over her.

She took my right hand in hers.

She used her other hand to reach in her pocket.

Pulling out her sidearm, Shepard set the pistol in my hand, making me hold it. Making me grip it tight.

And when she forced me to line up the gun between her eyes, still staring up at me in that fear, that heartbreak, that shattering, I stopped myself from screaming—

This pistol.

A Razer pistol.

Gasping for breath, stunned—I threw the gun on the bed. I backed away. Backing away from this, away from Shepard, away from her metaphor, from her double metaphor, from her fear and trembling.

"That is how I feel," spoke Shepard, heavy with this weight. "Like I'm back on Virmire. Like I'm in your place, with her about to shoot me dead." But there was no way… No way she could've known! "When you were about to lie to me…you were about to pull that trigger. On my heart. Taking that shot right through the worst of my fears in loving you like this. And if you did, if you went through with it…I'm not sure I would've survived. This violence brimming in me: I could have lashed out. Murderous. Insane. That's how bad this is."

True fear kept seizing her, harder. Unwilling to let her go.

Making her falter before me. Making her tremble, more, while I couldn't say a word back to her.

After everything Shepard had seen, for all her fearlessness, and for the countless battles she'd survived, none of that compared to this.

She hadn't been afraid to die for me. Not before she'd died during the attack. Dying for me, proudly.

But this…this was completely different.

And I wasn't prepared for this at all.

Taking one last, stabilizing breath, she filled me with an eternal dread this time.

Shepard made her decision, so ominous in her command: "We need to talk."

About to collapse from so many nerves, I could only watch her. Watching as Shepard used her omni-tool to message Miranda, letting her know that we were on our way to the Normandy. She received a reply from Miranda pretty much right away, promising that she would make herself available for us. Once Shepard was done, she made me follow her. Leaving the party without saying a word to anyone, as wasted and gone as they were already. We just left, taking the rapid transit to the ship's docking bay.

Distant, done: Shepard didn't want me to apologize. She didn't want me to interrupt her thoughts to hold her, or to say anything at all. She'd made it clear that we could only talk once we made it back. The only thing she did say was that she would wait for me to settle in first. Find my way around the ship, find my room, and find my things. Take a shower and change if I wanted to.

After that, she expected me to find her.

To talk.

To finally tell her the truth…about everything.

Such a sad situation. I had spent two years preparing to lie to her. And now that we were together again, I'd almost forgotten how to be honest. However Shepard knew what she knew, she had known all this time. Ever since she found me for my graduation. We had spent this time in Japan, too, with her knowing. She knew, and she still chose to take me out and do all the things she'd done for me. She knew, and she was honest enough to be vulnerable with me like this. Even as she scowled to the rest of the world, to everyone and everything else. Even as she held my hand…despite how much I'd hurt her like this.

But no matter how sad things seemed, I felt hopeful.

Hopeful that we could work this out.

We would talk it out. I would be honest with her. And then Shepard would take my side again. We'd be okay.

We would be.

Always and forever. Because we had to be. Always. We had to be. Forever. Together. Loving each other. Exclusively, from now on. Never letting anyone or anything come between us ever again.

Always…and forever.