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.

41. Professional

"Professional" by The Weeknd

XLI. Professional

(Miranda)

High as an ideal, this new reality had consumed me.

I had wanted to be here for years and years. Entire chapters of my life propelled to reach this moment:

Lying in my bed, in Shepard's arms, the middle of the night—I centered my oldest habits.

Many years and many a night I had spent in this bed. Wishing for this moment. Chastising myself for it. Feeling like a fool over it all. Managing my expectations had turned into suppressing my purest wants. Suppressing my purest wants had turned into hating my own thoughts, my own emotions. Hating those had warped and twisted me rotten and paranoid, far past anything I could recall. I'd repressed it all.

That was then, and this was now.

Now, I could look over at Shepard and find her sleeping soundly.

Such a fine sheen coated her complexion, blued from the lighting of my fish tank acting as a night light. Shaped in her sleep, Shepard continued to scowl as usual. But more in a softness this time. Softness of habit, as softly as she breathed, even as she held me with a firmness, so secure. Faintly, the ongoing storm outside flashed more lights over her skin, and the blue of her Alliance shirt. I stared at her, all of her, transfixed by this moment, by this ever-present memory—what she represented. What she meant.

I knew better than to weight my entire sense of worth on another person.

Yet knowing that the most powerful being in the galaxy had chosen me, I began to wonder about that.

Gently did I touch her face, smooth as wetted ice without the freeze. The length of her jaw, shapely and stern and sharp, I felt myself marveling over—as anyone would. Even now she had my heart fluttering as she slept on through the night. She didn't have to say a word to me. Devilish in her beautiful, handsome, capable ways, Shepard's worth radiated from her whether she was awake or not, aware or not. She could have had anyone, and yet she was at home with me, in my bed, holding me through the night.

I could never know Shepard completely. Even with all the knowledge I already had of her. She would remain a mystery in some ways. Though I certainly welcomed it. We couldn't grow complacent.

Although, the way she held me close to her chest spoke so much. Subconsciously, she needed me.

Fully conscious of this meaning as well, my heart only swelled more in response, completely fulfilled.

Unexpected, my omni-tool lit up with an alert, silenced as it was automatically at this late-early hour. Situating myself as carefully as I could—to avoid waking Shepard—I decided to see what this was about. I felt at least a mild concern, assuming this was someone from the team. I had made myself available to everyone in this way, giving them permission to message me at any time. Everyone knew that Shepard and I were technically insomniacs, and thus had no need to sleep. So there was no real harm in reaching out to me, whenever. I could only wonder who it was that had actually taken me up on my offer.

And once I opened my private inbox, I wasn't exactly surprised to see:

[04:16:44] Jack: Hey, Princess. You busy? I know it's a really weird time or whatever. Sorry. You said I could PM you whenever I wanted. Im taking you up on your offer I guess. Kinda drunk right now

[04:17:41] Me: Good morning, Jack. I'm not busy at all. I have time for you. What are you doing up at this hour?

[04:18:01] Jack: Got laid earlier now I can't sleep

[04:18:21] Me: I see. Were you drinking before this happened?

[04:18:58] Jack: We had a lot to drink. Made the sex pretty good. She's been out like a light this whole time. Im bored at her place. Not the wake-up-the-next-morning kind of person though. Gotta leave soon

[04:19:11] Me: If that's what you feel is best. How exactly did all of this happen?

[04:20:29] Jack: So there was this hot asari chick back at Eternity. We hit it off quick then went out for a wild night at this one lesbian club. You know how close Illium is to turning into Omega? I heard there was an ardat-yakshi killing someone else with sex in one of the stalls. It was crazy. Anyway the asari I met brought me to her apartment and we fell into her bed. I fucked her a few times now she's sleeping

[04:20:50] Me: An ardat-yakshi…? Do you mean the asari with a rare genetic mutation? The one that causes them to kill with sex and experience pleasure from the act. They become stronger with each kill.

[04:21:08] Jack: Yeah one of those. I didnt see her myself. Just heard what was going on. She and the girl got into a fight and then it turned into some sex killing thing. We had to leave the club when the cops showed up. Don't think they caught her

[04:21:39] Me: Well, ardat-yakshi don't typically make themselves visible. They need to remain discreet in order to avoid detection. If she killed the person to make an example out of her, that would explain her lack of subtlety. Though it definitely sounds like you had a wild night, as you said. Do you do this often?

[04:21:48] Jack: What do you mean?

[04:22:13] Me: Hooking up with strangers is what I mean. I'm only curious. I remember you were the last one back on the ship after our time at Afterlife. Kasumi claims you'd found someone else to sleep with that night as well.

[04:22:33] Jack: Kasumi's a mega fucking stalker but yeah. Its usually how I blow off steam

[04:22:45] Me: And why did you need to blow off steam in the first place? Are you all right?

[04:23:04] Jack: I don't know. Thats why I messaged you

[04:23:09] Me: Why did you think of me?

[04:23:20] Jack: Figured you were in a good mood

[04:23:28] Me: Perhaps so, but why would you imagine that?

[04:24:04] Jack: Look, Miranda, I seriously don't know! Like maybe you just got laid too and you'd feel like listening to my damn sob story. Aren't you with Shepard right now?

[04:24:21] Me: I am with her, yes. But that's not what we did last night.

[04:24:32] Jack: Oh shit for real?! Does that no gossiping about Shepard rule apply to PMs too?

[04:24:53] Me: Technically, the rule only applies to the main room. But if word got around that people began spreading their private message gossip with one another, I would have to take drastic action.

[04:25:12] Jack: I wanna talk to you about that stuff. Something tells me you won't just take my word if I swear not to tell anyone

[04:25:23] Me: If we continue to speak like this, and I learn to trust you, then I'll consider it.

[04:25:40] Jack: Yeah that's cool. I gotta spill my guts to you first right?

[04:26:01] Me: It would certainly help if you told me what's bothering you.

[04:28:38] Jack: Im in a weird place, that's all. I got thoughts crawling around my head like all the time. At first I thought I was getting my shit together, thinking about my parents. You know, from the files you sent me. I pictured going to find them or whatever, or at least my mom. She's a doctor and she seems really nice from what I read. I wanted to turn my life around and show her how I got better. Then that went to hell like a week ago. I've been sorta raging ever since

[04:28:57] Me: I understand. Would you say that the sex and drinking are a problem?

[04:28:12] Jack: It's a bad habit I cant stop. I told myself I'd cut it out. Cold turkey. Didn't last long. Feel like shit I couldn't even stick to this one thing. Like it's fun in the moment. Its never worth it in the end. This girl sleeping next to me is gorgeous and loaded but shes so fucking normal. I don't do normal

[04:28:26] Me: Have you considered weaning yourself off of those habits instead?

[04:28:38] Jack: What, like stopping a little bit at a time? Instead of doing it all at once

[04:28:46] Me: Yes, precisely. It may be more effective.

[04:29:04] Jack: That sounds smart. I tried replacing the bad shit with something else. Didn't really work. The only thing I stopped for sure are the drugs. Shepard won't tolerate it for the mission

[04:29:13] Me: I'm glad you're following her orders. But what was this something else?

[04:29:21] Jack: Thinking? Thoughts. Like, different thoughts. Not about drugs or drinking

[04:29:38] Me: I can see how that might help. What would you think about?

[04:29:54] Jack: Shit that's definitely against the rules for the main room

[04:30:12] Me: About Shepard?

[04:30:42] Jack: Not like THAT. I just mean how you two are this ultimate power couple. I wonder about you guys a lot

[04:31:08] Me: I think I need a bit more persuading. Are you certain you don't want her? In that way.

[04:31:20] Jack: Ugh come on!

[04:31:27] Me: Jack. Answer me.

[04:31:58] Jack: Fine! Look, Shepard's like my dad or something. My totally distant, emotionally unavailable dad who still expects me to get my shit together. I need her to fucking notice me and approve of what I do. Yeah she's hot but she's not my type. That's how I really see her. Promise. Okay?

[04:32:10] Me: Hmm, I suspected as much for a while now. Thank you for sharing.

[04:32:28] Jack: If you knew, then why the hell'd you give me the third degree?! Did you think I was lying? Shepard did the same damn thing to me when we talked before. You're both pissing me off!

[04:32:40] Me: I'm sorry I made you angry. I needed to know for sure.

[04:32:59] Jack: Whatever. You gotta keep other bitches away from the commander. I get it. All I want is for her to like talk to me. What are you doing with her later today?

[04:33:21] Me: We have plans.

[04:33:34] Jack: Shepard's taking you out on a date, isn't she?

[04:33:50] Me: If you must know, it's the other way around. I'm taking her out. I live here.

[04:34:11] Jack: No way! I thought you were back on the ship! You have a place on Illium? So she's in your bed right now

[04:34:23] Me: We're at my apartment, yes.

[04:34:50] Jack: Then why the fuck are you talking to me?! Why isn't she screwing you instead? Holy shit

[04:35:20] Me: Jack, this topic is still highly inappropriate.

[04:35:44] Jack: Im just shocked. The way you're protecting her from indoctrination, I know you two get up to some kinky shit. Deviants in a good way. Plus Joker told me about Shepard's legendary "prowess"…

[04:36:00] Me: I'm ending this discussion now.

[04:36:13] Jack: Okay, okay. I'll drop it. Sorry

[04:36:19] Me: Well, you clearly have an overactive imagination.

[04:36:30] Jack: Nah, there's just a lot to wonder about with you two. Im not the only one

[04:36:58] Me: I'll let you continue wondering, then. Shouldn't you be leaving that girl's apartment soon?

[04:37:18] Jack: I guess I'll leave now, yeah. Since you don't wanna talk anymore. You don't have to keep hinting. I wasn't trying to upset you or anything

[04:37:40] Me: Don't worry about that. It's nearly dawn and you haven't slept. You should rest.

[04:40:43] Jack: Yeah fine. I snuck out her door. Heading to the Normandy now. Thanks for talking with me, Miranda. Wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. You're a pretty good listener. You give good advice too

[04:41:10] Me: Of course. I wouldn't mind us speaking again another time.

[04:42:52] Jack: Hey, if we can piss each other off and still wanna talk again, that works for me. Why don't you hit me up tomorrow? Tomorrow-tomorrow. Not today obviously, since you have your date and all. Guessing it'll be before we pick up the next new person for the team. Maybe we can chill together

[04:45:11] Me: Yes, I'd like that. I'll be in touch. Out of curiosity, how will you spend your time until then?

[04:46:02] Jack: Think I'll go to the movies. There's this Dark Goddess reboot showing. It's supposed to be six hours long. Gotta get my asari erotica fix after the night I had. Then Zaeed wants me to be his wingman at some straight bar. Im 100% gonna get bored and bail on him after like an hour. After that I'll try to be responsible and get some VR training in. Hope I don't fuck around and get distracted

[04:46:22] Me: That sounds like a productive time. I wish you the best of luck, Jack. Thank you for trusting me enough to message me like this. It means a lot. Sleep well.

[04:47:45] Jack: Trust, yeah… Uh-huh. Good night, Princess. Or good morning. You know what I mean

---

Falling back asleep some time ago, I'd slipped into such a strange dream.

Constant flames had encroached around me. Heating, menacing. Never quite getting too close, but threatening as much regardless. I wasn't sure where I was. Only that these fires continued to consume me. Or at least they tried. For all their efforts, they kept me locked in this dream for a long, long while. Until my other, waking senses brought me back away from those flames—and out to smell another source of heat, wafting and wading up to my bedroom. Softer, gentler, non-threatening. Peaceful.

Turned around on my side as I was, I felt the late-morning sun on my back. Those rays shone in from the windows across the way. Waking me with more heat, I smelled such a heavenly aroma of rich warmth and sugary sweetness, emanating somewhere from the kitchen just below me. Looking around, I could see that the vid screen was on downstairs. The volume wasn't at all loud enough to have woken me. And I was of course alone in bed. Shepard wasn't here. There was only one explanation for her absence.

As I sat up in bed, holding the duvet over my chest, I found more answers in this novel sunlight:

Long hair slightly damp from her recent shower, skim gleaming in the morning light, and wearing a fresh set of her Alliance fatigues—Shepard ascended the winding staircase, finding my state of utter surprise.

"Hey, sleepyhead," she said, crawling back into bed with me. "You were out for a while. I was worried."

"It was nothing to worry over," I insisted, rather sheepish. "Stuck in my dream. That's all."

Humming in concern, Shepard leaned into me more. She propped herself up along her balled fists, knuckles pressed down against the bed at either side of me. Leveraging her weight there, she made to kiss me, pressing the tempered joy of her lips against mine. I smelled the cinnamon spice of her toothpaste, and I remembered I didn't have the same—I turned my head away at the last second. She only brushed her lips along the corner of my mouth instead, smiling against my newfound scowl.

Shepard teased me, "Not a morning person, huh?"

"You aren't, either," I sulked. "Besides, we're not doing this until I've at least brushed my teeth."

Charming with her boyish grin, she asked, "Is this non-negotiable?"

"Of course it is! You know how I am about these things. I won't allow it."

Not minding my stubbornness, Shepard laughed. Something told me she would try to push her luck in the future, if only to be playful with me. And though I refused to admit it, I loved that about her, really.

I wanted to reward her anyway, for surprising me.

On my own terms, I held Shepard's face in my hands. Kissing her jaw, far enough away—this would do.

"Thank you for doing this," I whispered to her. "For being here. I enjoy waking up to you."

"Well, I had to start the day off right. I didn't make your tea, though. The kettle would've woken you."

"Yes, it would have. It's not a big deal. I can do without it. Just let me wash my face first."

"Go ahead, babe."

Taking a bit more time to wash up, I couldn't help noticing this change. Sudden nerves had accosted me—over Shepard being here, over my plans for us both. I wasn't sure what she would think of everything…

First, I wanted us to go shopping. I had specific intentions with this outing. I needed to get Shepard fitted for an appropriate suit. The suit I'd always wanted to see her in. Not for our date on Illium tonight. No, the suit would be for something else…later on. Afterward, we would get ready for the evening, and go out for dinner together. I'd reserved a table for us well ahead of time. And then, the rest would depend on how we both felt. I would gauge our mood and go from there. Though I did have some ideas in mind.

And when I emerged to the living room, swept away in this atmosphere of Shepard's morning surprise, I let our reality sink in a little more. I was all too glad to sit with her on the couch, watching one of Illium's asari fashion networks as we ate brunch together. I found my amusement in Shepard's love for these delectable cinnamon rolls—almost childlike in nostalgia, her eyes had lit up as she presented them to me. Sliced and washed freshness from this fruit added more to the sweetness—as did the chill of the mimosas she'd made, as such perfect blends of champagne and orange juice. So wonderfully balanced.

Overall, Shepard had given me this fantasy in our reality. I could lean against her as we ate her sublime cooking, knowing exactly what was on her mind. I could watch this fashion show with her, sensing the way she had shifted her own perceptions for me. Enjoying this type of time with someone had once seemed like complacency to her, to us both. I certainly shared in her sentiments. If it had been anyone else, I imagined Shepard wouldn't have done any of this with such vigor and freedom. Because I tasted a true abundance of love and care in what she'd made for me, lightened and sweetened and perfected by that purposeful touch of hers, all for me and only me. She hadn't forced any of this at all.

We hadn't even had sex yet, and here she was, pulling out all the stops for me.

The thought kept a smile on my face as we finished our meals, preparing to leave for the afternoon.

I wore a regular outfit for our time shopping at one of Nos Astra's largest outdoor malls—a true cultural marvel as this place was, with Illium's usual silver and violet architecture, enhanced and expanded in a courtyard-like setting. Several high-end shops outlined along this boulevard, lifted atop the view of the city below, with the sun shining on in gentleness. As crowded as this place was, I wasn't exactly in the mood to advertise my Cerberus leanings. Not that it would've been entirely controversial. Not anymore. Not in this day and age. But Shepard had already drawn enough attention to us, as she had chosen to keep wearing her casual Alliance blues. People stared at us regardless, as I knew they would have. But due to certain events, I wasn't really in a loyalist state of mind. Not to Cerberus, anyway. To Shepard, certainly—and everyone saw it, as they watched us walk hand-in-hand. As calm and collected as we were, and so naturally poised in our power, I knew we attracted attention for more than our identities.

Truthfully, I rather enjoyed the attention this time.

Everyone here had money. Actual money. Shepard and myself included, of course. They all carried their shopping bags from the various designer stores around, filled with clothes, jewelry, shoes, and far more—mostly asari brands, with plenty of human names from Earth as well. I wouldn't bring Shepard here just to buy her whatever. She deserved the best. I refused to settle for anything less.

As superficial as these concerns of mine seemed, there was more to it than that. We had both worked hard for our fortunes. I'd had my own handed to me in my childhood, only to discard it all, paving my own way—refusing to depend on my father's wealth anymore. Just as Shepard had clawed her way to success, honing and defining her ideals and leadership in the military for even more prestige. She could fit right in with the people around us—all of whom had dressed to the nines for a mere outing at this mall—while wearing her 'normal' fatigues, because of what they represented. We both knew our value.

Sophisticated in our accomplishments, our surroundings reflected this sentiment in spades.

Maintaining this poker face of mine, as Shepard did as well, no one could tell anything else about us—except that we had found what we needed in one another, and nothing and no one would tear us apart.

Any of the usual gawkers and disturbers knew this. And so they left us alone.

So when a familiar asari did come up to us, holding a shopping bag, I had to quickly check my hostilities.

My most trusted contact on Illium certainly didn't deserve that from me.

Not to mention, she broke character, briefly. Upon finding Shepard here with me, she faltered, her dark eyes widening in the shock of this storm between us. That lightning from us caught her off-guard. Yet she recovered quite quickly, playing it off just enough. She'd clearly heard the rumors about this unusual sensation.

"Well, well, well," she said, smirking in her usual way. "If it isn't the famous Miss Lawson. I almost didn't recognize you outside your uniform. You clean up nicely. Though that's no surprise, coming from you."

"Fancy running into you here," I replied. "Shepard, this is my contact—the one I mentioned to you a few times. She's the one providing us intel on the justicar and the assassin. With her own network in the police force, and Illium's many information brokers, I couldn't do business on this colony without her."

"Tela Vasir. Special Tactics and Recon."

Shepard seemed pleased. "Another Spectre, then."

"I heard your status was reinstated," mentioned Vasir. "You're our most famous operative. And for good reason. You've done some incredible work out there. Might even get you to sign my chest plate." She looked to me again. "I didn't mean to run into you lovebirds on your day off. But maybe it's for the best. I take it you've heard about the incident last night with the ardat-yakshi. It's related to your justicar."

"Yes, I did hear about it," I answered, recalling Jack's story. "How is this related to Samara?"

"Turns out she's been on this ardat-yakshi's trail for a while now. Samara was on location with the police. She offered to help them with their investigation. They haven't quite reached an agreement, so it's possible she'll continue looking for the suspect on her own. You have a potential avenue to recruit her by offering assistance. Unless tracking down a murderous sex fiend is too much for you to handle."

"It won't be a problem. Do you have any information on where she might be? We need to meet her."

"You have time," promised Vasir. "As of right now, Samara doesn't know where the suspect is. I'm told she's looking into a few leads. The ardat-yakshi is a slippery one, so this probably won't be a one-and-done thing. I'll let you know as soon as I have a location. I expect to have one by tomorrow afternoon."

"Tomorrow afternoon will work just fine. Thank you. What about Thane Krios? Any updates on him?"

"Unfortunately, the drell assassin is another story. I have next-to-nothing on him—but I do know for certain that he recently arrived on Illium, and he seemingly has no plans to leave any time soon. There's a clerk down in the information offices who says she's in contact with him. She won't tell me why. Only that it involves one of Illium's most notorious entrepreneurs, Nassana Dantius. Given her shady dealings and her company's hostile working conditions, I imagine Krios will want to put Nassana out of business."

"That's true. I've had Nassana's people getting in my way before. She's gotten away with far too much over the years. I won't lose any sleep if Thane does decide to end her life. But it's quite the risk for him to take. The Dantius Towers have top-of-the-level security. Not to mention her hired Eclipse mercs."

Vasir shared my concerns. "I have to agree," she said. "Don't you worry, though. I'll do some more digging with that clerk I mentioned. She'll talk soon. Might take a little longer than your business with the justicar. I'd advise you to go after her first. When you're done with Samara, I'll contact you again."

"Absolutely. Your help's been invaluable."

"Well, I owe you for all the help you've given me. Your Cerberus network enhances my own. When I don't have all the answers, I turn to you. Let's hope your suicide mission doesn't live up to its name."

"It really shouldn't," I insisted. "I plan on sticking around, Vasir. Take my word for it."

"Oh, I will. Although, before you and the commander head off, I should warn you. There's someone else at this mall as we speak. Someone else you may or may not want to run into."

Appalled, I immediately worried it was my father. "Who do you mean?"

"It's your sister, Oriana. She's here shopping with her friends from school. Considering how expansive this place is, there's no guarantee you'll see her. It's still possible. So you might want to be careful."

Struggling to keep the shock from my face—my heart skipped several beats in a row, shuddering.

My hand in Shepard's nearly went cold. Until she held on tighter, warming me in her support.

Steadied, I forced a reply, "Yes, I understand. Thank you for the information, Vasir. I appreciate it."

"Of course, Lawson. I hope you and Shepard have a great day." Before taking her leave, she made sure to give Shepard a cordial nod. "Commander. It was nice meeting you. You take good care of her now."

"Vasir," stated Shepard, watching as she went on her way.

Once she was gone, I couldn't quite make myself move. Other people continued to pass us by, drowning me more in this gathering of strangers, with Shepard as my only familiarity and comfort and certainty.

My sister was here.

After all these years I'd spent living on Illium, I'd never once bumped into her. I feared what would happen if Oriana spotted me—if she would notice the clear resemblance between us, and then decide come up to me, asking questions I had no answers to. How was I supposed to explain that I rescued her from our father? How was I supposed to tell my own sister that I'd had to leave her with another family, all because my life was far too dangerous to involve her in? Wouldn't she feel that I'd abandoned her?

I hadn't been able to reconcile my need to protect my sister, with my other need to keep her close.

I wanted her to be normal. Safe. Happy.

She couldn't have that with me around. I would only complicate things for her.

Sensing my struggles, Shepard leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Hey. What's on your mind?"

That sultry depth to her voice pulled me right out of my thoughts, and into something else—far deeper.

But I really couldn't think about that, either. Not at a time like this.

Tongue-tied, not knowing what to say, I merely shook my head.

Knowing best for me, Shepard had us sit down on a nearby bench.

Elevated, overlooking the city's view, we had a beautiful vantage point for the rest of Nos Astra. Stronger in her support, Shepard wrapped her arm around my shoulders, easing me into her. Sighing in a slight release, I leaned against her, basking in this closeness, in this moment. Such a perfect, pleasant sunlight shone down on us. The mild breeze swept past in a crisp scent of imagination and culture, seasoned by Illium's sharp sense of style and magnitude. And we had our silence here. Silence punctured only by the far-off sounds of skycars driving through traffic, those lights shining across the day in certainty.

Illium would forever go on. And Illium would always be home to me—my chosen home, away from Earth, as I had decided for my sister as well. Already I rued the inevitable day when the Reapers would arrive to this place, possibly destroying all that I'd known for years now. It truly seemed unavoidable.

But today, here, Shepard and I had this quiet. This peace together, however temporary and fleeting.

She was wise to ask me about Vasir first: "That contact of yours. I take it you've known her for a while."

"Yes, I have," I said, closing my eyes against Shepard's chest. "Vasir is a powerful Spectre with even stronger intel. She's made quite a name for herself as the Council's arm for the police. Even though Illium is outside of Council space, those in law enforcement feel more secure having her around. I believe she's managed to keep the colony from devolving too much into what Omega has become under Aria's rule. And she also helps me in watching over my sister. Namely with some surveillance footage."

"Sounds like you trust her a lot."

"Mmm, in a certain sense. We have an affable working relationship. Transactional. We both benefit."

Shepard noticed, "But you two aren't necessarily friends."

Such a mention made my chest ache. "I don't really have friends, you know. After I lost Niket, I couldn't bear to possibly have another repeat. I'll tell you more about him later on today. Aside from that, I seem to have forgotten what friendship means. When it comes down to it, I'm very awkward with other people. Even with most of the team. Yet I appreciate the distance they keep from me. It's…respectful."

"You mean you're not close with any of them?"

"I wouldn't say that I am. Though Jack did message me at a strange hour today. Around four in the morning. I was awake at that time. We stayed up for a while talking. That was why I woke up late."

"Jack? What did she want?"

"Well, I'd offered for her to message me whenever she wished. She decided to take me up on that. I'm guessing whatever's going on between her and Tali—or not going on—has Jack in a certain mood. She's dealing with her problems as best as she can. I simply listened and gave her some advice. She'll be fine."

"What about you, babe? Think you'll be fine, too? We can leave early if you need to."

I was glad Shepard chose not to ask me about my sister. Not directly, anyway. I knew what she meant.

"We don't have to leave," I told her. "I've already made an appointment for you to have a fitting. I want to do this with you, Shepard. I want us to spend this time together. I'll be more than all right. I promise."

Shepard kissed the roots of my hair, her breaths warming my scalp. "Okay, then. Whatever you want."

Enjoying her subservience to me, I soon found myself smiling in her hold.

She had such a knack for turning these normal times into something magical, thoroughly enchanting me.

---

Since we still had plenty of time before Shepard's fitting, we decided we would actually browse a few other stores. I had no use for sitting around and moping instead. Certainly not on a day like this. Because there was a different air about Shepard as she walked with me, leading me almost as she held my hand, even though she had never been here before. It wasn't that she rushed me. Not at all. No, it was something else:

Such a beautiful expanse of confidence had taken over her. A different sort of confidence than her usual one. Another type that Shepard only displayed on rare occasions: the relaxed, yet masculine way she would hold herself while driving, or that purposeful power move during our first date when she'd worn that chain-leash looped along her trousers. That same taste of her power and control, blended with that inscrutable masculinity, I sensed about her once more as she played this part for me.

Shepard guided me to each store she thought I would like—a few asari designer shops, as well as Fendi, Dior, and of course Burberry. I would scrutinize the place, first, deciding if I in fact wanted anything from there. Wordless, I decided that I did, each time, and allowed Shepard to lead me inside. As such an unusual blast from the past, I picked out whatever I wanted: sunglasses, purses, jewelry, and all sorts of other accessories I didn't have the freedom to wear on the mission. Yet Shepard purchased everything for me anyway. Even though I was supposed to be the one taking her out and spoiling her today. But she insisted otherwise—and she carried all of my shopping bags for me without complaint. As ever, she didn't look like she should've had this physical strength. So many years of carrying her bulky sniper rifles around had gifted her with the perfect sinew, leaving her well enough to practically be my errand boy.

And if I didn't know any better, that very idea had enhanced her strength and stamina for me.

Shepard seemed more dutiful because she knew I expected it; because she knew I enjoyed it.

I sensed she would lower herself as much as she needed to, if only to please me with her power.

Just as well, I knew where my mind had wandered with all of this. Wandering toward such an inevitable arousal: I truly enjoyed the meaning in Shepard's gestures, her overtures. After all, I could have taken advantage of her generosity. If I wanted. She would know if I had, yet she wouldn't behave any differently. I couldn't do such a thing, but I still wanted to test the waters.

As our last stop before Shepard's appointment for her fitting, she brought me to the Gucci store. I had an abundance of purses and other accessories already. Even though a number of these handmade bags and intricate bracelets were to die for, I had to show some restraint today. Shepard had spoiled me enough as it was, though I knew she wanted to continue doing it. And I would let her—in other ways.

Shepard asked me, "What would you like from here?"

Coy and controlled, I responded, "I suppose I could do with another pair of shoes. You can never do with too many of those. Or at least I can't."

Agreeing with my assessment, she led me over to the shoe section.

Brightly-lit and packed with mirrors along the walls, lines and lines of women's shoes decorated this space. Pumps and heels and ankle boots and knee-high boots and so many other boots. Heeled and non-heeled, but the heels were what I wanted. Leather. Always leather. Shepard noticed that I clearly had my eye on a particular type of shoe—she had me sit down on one of the velvet chairs here, with all of the heeled boots in my vicinity.

"Do you want to try anything on?" she offered.

Smiling in satisfaction, I said, "Yes, I do. The black knee-high boots at the very top. They're shaped a lot like the ones on my uniform. I'd been meaning to find a separate pair. What do you think of them?"

"They're good—very sexy," replied Shepard, reaching up to retrieve the boots for me. "I'll go see if they have them in your size. Hold on."

"Thank you, Shepard."

Pleased beyond pleasure, I waited for her to return.

She didn't keep me waiting for very long at all, soon coming back with a long, white box in her hands.

Kneeling before me, Shepard made the pointed, poised effort at taking off my current boots. She found this natural arch about me, taking them in her hands, one at a time—before placing the new boots on for me, one, and then the other. As focused as she was on this task, she couldn't notice directly the way my breathing had changed. How I stared at her with such an engorgement about me. I could have devoured her whole with my eyes alone. Largely because I sensed the particular feelings in Shepard's hands, in her touch. How she needed this, and craved this. Perhaps a lovely fetish for my boots, if so.

Though certainly, other people throughout the store noticed. They continued to stare. They stared more so once I placed my hands along Shepard's shoulders, using her as a sturdy, rooted object to help me stand up. Modeling this new look in one of the nearby mirrors, I enjoyed the style, the fashion of it all.

"What do you think now, Shepard?" I asked, checking from a different angle. "Do you like these on me?"

"Yes, Miranda," she responded, still kneeling on the floor. "I like them a lot. I want to buy them for you."

"You know, this wasn't supposed to turn into a shopping spree for me. Though I do appreciate it."

"Well, it's my responsibility to treat you right. This is part of that. I can afford you. You should enjoy it."

I more than enjoyed this.

She knew that.

Yet I decided that we would only get this one thing, and then head over for her appointment. If I let Shepard buy anything more for me, it would have been too much for one day. Even though I knew she was all too happy to spend her life savings on me, this was more than enough. Shepard helped me back into my original boots. She carried the new ones with her as we went to the checkout kiosk together.

Out of curiosity, I whispered in her ear—"And what if I told you we weren't having sex tonight? Would you still do all of this for me?"

Making her point, Shepard paid for my shoes right then and there. All with the credits she had on-hand.

I couldn't help smiling as she added this latest shopping bag to the collection she carried along.

We then left for the Giorgio Armani store nearby. This particular human designer line was quite popular not only on Illium, but across many other asari colonies, and on Thessia as well. Arriving at the men's section, the awaiting staff knew who we were and why we were here. They began the process for fitting Shepard into her suit straightaway. The exact suit I had requested, tailor-made for her and her alone.

I sat on a chair nearby, surrounded by my shopping bags. Observing and scrutinizing every single detail:

Shepard stood up while the shop's staff flitted around her—measuring, trying, fitting. Navigating her lean form, and adapting this specific suit around her frame, her mood, her mind. Stern in attractiveness, she stared back at me on occasion, but otherwise preoccupied herself with watching the staff work on her.

Three-piece, and all-black.

Suit jacket, vest, and trousers.

All of a fine, smooth material, giving the impression of leather, yet not at all so.

Simple pocket square triangled over her breast, of a dark gray to draw the eye, as an illusion of color.

Men's dress shoes of a cobalt black to match, shining almost as metal, yet not too much to distract.

And a dark violet shirt underneath the jacket and vest, enhancing the sunlit shades of her eyes, her hair, and her complexion. She would look like my sun, as I'd imagined and fantasized about for several years.

As for the accessories, I'd picked out a tie, cufflinks, and waist belt beforehand. She would have a chain leash looping down the side of her trousers—naturally. Everything would be cohesive on her. Plus, despite Shepard's slimness, I wanted a strong, masculine fit. Nothing to accentuate her chest or her hips, yet nothing to hide those features, either. That cancellation would create a flawless, androgynous look. Genderless. Only the length of her hair and the femininity of her face and hands would speak otherwise.

The perfect suit befitting a prince.

Shepard already held herself as such.

She simply needed the fashion to match, all with dashes of a professional sex appeal and sophistication.

But this outfit wasn't for our date tonight. I planned on asking Shepard to wear something else instead.

No, this was for something else—a little later on. I had my matching outfit ready for that later as well.

Later still, the sun outside began to lower, lifting the hours closer to evening time.

I needed to start getting ready for our date soon. Shepard planned on returning to the Normandy to get dressed, as I only had one bathroom in my apartment, and I knew I would spend too much time hogging it. So it would be more efficient for her to go back to her private cabin instead. I planned on dropping her off near the trading floor, and then driving back home afterward. All while trying not to let my nerves get the better of me. Yes, we'd been on a date before…but not like this. Definitely not like this.

As we made to leave the mall, I stared at one of the stores we passed by. The sight made my heart ache.

One filled with wedding dresses and tuxedos.

I'd had to force myself not to ogle at that Vera Wang dress over the extranet. I remained obsessed with it, as I had been for quite some time now. With everything that had gone on before, my obsessions had seemed particularly desperate. Or at least tone deaf. So I'd resisted my urges, merely staving them off.

Yet as I thought that, I could've sworn I was seeing things.

In the near-distance, I thought I saw a reflection of myself in a white dress in this sunlight.

No…that was impossible.

Unless—

"Shit!" I cursed, ducking into the wedding store.

Baffled by my speed in making myself scarce, Shepard called after me, "Babe! What the hell—?"

"Hey, is that Commander Shepard?!"

A younger, happier, less-accented version of me had said those words.

My reflection clamored over to Shepard, her excitable group of human and asari girlfriends in tow.

Completing that mirage, Oriana wore such a pretty white sundress and heels, looking her age. So joyous and relaxed, my sister and her friends surrounded Shepard in a harmless manner. Carrying a few shopping bags of their own, those designer brands swung near their legs as they moved this way and that, getting a better look at Shepard's legend in-person. They studied her Alliance fatigues, her hair, her stoic surprise—everything. For she was clearly shocked to find such a resemblance between twins.

Needing to say something, Shepard confirmed, "Yeah, that's me…"

Clever in her observations, Oriana asked, "So, are all those shopping bags for your girlfriend? You have to be here with her, right? We read all about you two over the extranet! Where is she?!"

"She—went to go look for something else."

"Hmm, will you have even more bags to carry for her soon?"

"Probably…"

When Oriana and her friends giggled over Shepard's behavior, I had to wonder about this.

Shepard was certainly more nervous than I would've expected her to be.

Then again, she had a lot going on in that head of hers, caught off-guard as she was.

Hmm…

Oriana went on, "Well, it's too bad she's not here. I wanted to meet her! Miranda. She seems—intense."

"We both are," explained Shepard, trying to keep her cool. "But, why did you want to meet her?"

"It's a long story," said Oriana. Knowing, she had a far-off look as she professed, "She's really pretty…"

Clearly, our resemblance hadn't gotten past her. She suspected something. Perhaps more than that.

I should've known this would happen. My twin sister was far too intelligent to ignore the telltale signs.

Brightening more, my sister offered her hand. "Anyway, my name's Oriana. It's wonderful to meet you, Commander! You've done so much for so many people. We truly look up to you. You're an inspiration."

Glancing between Oriana and her friends, Shepard shook my sister's hand, mindful in gentleness.

"Thanks."

Reflecting me again, Oriana smiled in this sunlight. "I can see why your girlfriend likes you," she flirted, sending me in a mental tailspin. "You're the strong and silent type, hm? I figured as much already." As if trying to piss me off on purpose to draw me out, my sister observed the green of Shepard's veins bulging along her arms, weighed with all my shopping. So she flirted with her more—"Miranda sure is taking her sweet time, isn't she? How long do you think you can keep carrying her bags without getting tired?"

Hardened in her own mental efforts, Shepard stated, "For as long as it takes."

"Oh, really? You'll keep standing there all day and night while she avoids me? That's quite interesting."

When Shepard refused to respond, my sister and her friends only giggled again.

I was seriously about to storm out there. Right this second. I couldn't let my sister get away with this!

But she was obviously on to me as it was.

With Shepard not-so-privately flustered, this was yet another giveaway.

Neither of us had prepared for this. And I had already made the choice to stay out of Oriana's life. To protect her. She couldn't know what I got up to. I couldn't involve her in my harsh, dangerous reality.

As livid as I was, I fought to remain hidden.

Oriana knew that Shepard wouldn't budge. "Okay, okay," she conceded. "You won't say anything, but you're not denying it, either. I suppose that's good enough. I'll live with it—for now." Smiling in that knowing edge, Oriana decided to let Shepard off the hook. My sister gave a girlish wave goodbye, her long, lithe fingers and manicured nails fanning. "Hopefully we'll meet again, Commander. Take care!"

Shepard could only give my sister a curt nod in response.

Beaming one last time, Oriana went on her way, taking her friends with her. Their loud conversation about the encounter echoed in their wake.

Shepard waited until that echo was gone—until my sister and her girlfriends were far enough away.

She then entered this store, finding me surrounded by an assortment of wedding attire.

The meaning wasn't lost on her as she stared down at me in a sheepish concern.

"Sorry, babe," was all she could say.

"It's fine," I snapped. "There was a nineteen-year-old girl flirting with you, all while you were surrounded by her friends. And she just so happened to look exactly like me. What else were you supposed to do?"

"Miranda…"

"God, I know. We weren't prepared. I'm trying not to blame you for this."

"Well, your cover's blown. Oriana clearly knows about you. That's why she acted the way she did."

Royally pissed off, I fumed, "She thinks she's so damn funny."

"Don't you think you should talk to her? I mean, she's your sister. She obviously cares about you."

"This is too much for me to handle. I'll deal with it later. Not now. Come on, let's go."

Exceedingly grumpy, I grabbed Shepard's arm, having us leave for my car at long last. I forced myself not to ponder on what had just happened, or any possible consequences of this for the future.

---

Starlight shining in through my windows—getting ready for this date proved more stressful than I'd imagined.

Back at my apartment, alone again, I showered and got dressed with such a restlessness about me. Hardly able to stay still: if I wasn't shaking, mildly, then I had to stiffen my own body to stop the slight movements, eternally distracting. Even while putting my bit of makeup on, my hands wouldn't stop trembling. I'd had to redo my light mascara at least a few times, but I managed to get it on as I wanted. I could smile about it, though, knowing how Shepard would react if she could have seen me now.

She would have told me not to worry. And she would have called me beautiful.

I wanted to earn that reaction from her tonight. But I didn't want to go overboard. Or seem too obvious.

I had already decided on my outfit for this night weeks ago. Simple simplicity of a deep red blouse and black slacks, accented by the boots I had on. The same boots that Shepard had just bought me from the Gucci store, which I hadn't planned on. But they fit so well, I couldn't ignore them for anything.

Everything else about me looked the same. Nothing fancy. Again, I didn't want to try too hard with this.

And I knew that Shepard wouldn't take nearly as long as me to get ready. So I'd found a way to keep her preoccupied, by sending her another recording of Jacob and me. One of our sessions, our scenes from last year or so. I wanted to get Shepard's imagination going, as a preview for this next step in our relationship. After all, she had been perfectly respectful about my wishes—about not coming anywhere near me with sex until we were actually together like this. Naturally, I wanted to reward her in any way I could.

Aside from our dinner plans, I had no concrete goals for the evening.

I would truly have to gauge her mood, and my own. Then we would go from there.

I couldn't force anything. I certainly didn't want to risk doing that. Whatever felt right would be right.

I soon received an alert from my apartment's security system, letting me know that Shepard had made her way to the building. Trying not to panic, I hurried over to the computer in my office. There along my multiple displays was Shepard, observed from a heightened, slanted angle, her sight captured as she moved through the apartment complex. On her way to the elevator from the lobby, I felt myself breathing harder, seeing for myself that she had on a dinner jacket and suit trousers. She didn't have on a tie, and she didn't need to, as I'd stipulated to her already. Beautifully, she had her long, long hair shifting and swaying down her back, walking with such confidence and certainty. Obviously she didn't have on the same outfit I had purchased for her earlier, as I hadn't given it to her directly…yet. But there was such power about her stature and status, enhanced by her choice of clothes. My love for her only grew once I spotted the way Shepard kept her hands behind her back, as if holding something there.

Holding myself together, yet flailing all the same, I rushed back into my bathroom.

Spritzing a bit more of my midnight perfume on, I looked myself over in the mirror one last time.

And even though I wasn't religious in the slightest, I'd already clasped my hands together. Gripping, shaking—I wasn't sure what had gotten to me like this. I knew I would have to be put-together the moment Shepard saw me again. Anything less would've been unlike me. Yet I recognized how truly momentous this moment was. After how long I'd spent wishing and wanting a night like this, I didn't want to mess this up. But of course, these were only my horrible demons talking. I had to accept that.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to lower my guard a bit more; to trust Shepard with this vulnerability of mine.

I made up my mind once I heard her ring the doorbell.

Smoothing down my shirt with my hands, I went to answer the door.

And there she was, standing in my doorway, gazing down at me in her handsome, stoic delight.

Right away, I smelled the scent of her cologne, wooden in a crisp freshness that revitalized me, enticing.

Pressed and steamed, Shepard wore her dinner jacket well, with her shirt enriched in red. Such a deep, burgundy red; a romantic red, just as deep, just as romantic as the wide, lovely bouquet of roses she procured from behind her back, presenting them to me in her regard. Eternally respectful. Everlasting.

I did find it amusing that we happened to be matching with our reds.

Smiling softly, I accepted the roses as she gave them to me. As thoughtful and caring as she was, this gesture of hers nearly had me speechless. I wasn't sure why I hadn't expected this. She surprised me.

"Shepard…"

"Hey," she murmured, leaning down to kiss me in richness and esteem. "Sorry again…about earlier. With your sister. I should've handled that better."

"No, it's all right," I forgave. "I shouldn't have gotten angry with you. It wasn't worth it. I'm sorry, too."

For good measure, I reached up to embrace her, wrapping my free arm around her neck, her shoulders.

Shepard was incredibly precious to me. We couldn't tear ourselves apart over some silly argument.

I was already in a one-sided argument with the Illusive Man. I didn't need to add Shepard to that list.

She whispered in my ear, "You're beautiful, Miranda. I love the way you put yourself together."

Remembering those words from right before our first date, I knew my face had gone red.

"Thank you," I replied, forever glad to hear this from her. "These roses are gorgeous as well. As are you. Let me just…put them somewhere. In a vase. Then we can go."

"Take your time, babe."

I certainly did take my time in going to the kitchen, and pulling out a vase from the cabinets.

If I moved any faster, I feared I would give away far too much.

Shepard noticed enough. Waiting near the entrance, she remained respectful, as I needed her to be.

With my new flowers secure in this vase, I brought them over to my desk. I admired them for a short moment, hoping this rosy scent would settle throughout the apartment soon, as it had done in my room back on the Normandy. I imagined everything would populate nicely by the time we returned home.

Surprising me again, Shepard offered to drive us to the restaurant in my car. All she had to do was follow the navigation system. I allowed it, enjoying the way she helped me into the passenger's seat first, before she went over to the driver's side. I found myself savoring this novelty. Obviously, I'd never let anyone else drive my car before. The lack of control was only a little disorienting. Yet I trusted Shepard with this, especially once I saw for myself how much care she took with my car. Purely responsible, she took the utmost care with driving in this mild traffic at night, the lights and sights from Illium shining in through the pitch darkness around us. She of course made sure to hold my hand. As I always wanted.

Shepard glanced over at me as she drove, those lights from the console glimmering in her eyes.

"So, any hints on where we're going?" she asked. "I noticed you removed the name of the place from your navigation system. You didn't want me looking over to see for myself."

I smiled over her astuteness. "It's all part of the surprise, Shepard. My lips are sealed."

"That gets me thinking, babe. You'd only remove the name if you thought I'd recognize it. Right?"

I knew for a fact that she would have recognized the name.

A little bit of home away from home.

"You already know I'm not answering that," I told her. "But you should know—there will be other people around. I don't quite have the influence you do, to buy out the entire restaurant for an evening all to ourselves. A number of high-profile entrepreneurs and such frequent this place. The restaurant's management didn't want to risk ruffling any feathers by cancelling their reservations. So you'll have to forgive me. We'll have our space, anyway. Secluded with a fine view."

"Sounds good to me. We can be alone later."

"Mmm, we certainly will be. I'll make sure of it. For now, we're nearly there. Follow the valet parking."

"All right, then," said Shepard, exiting the highway. "Why don't you let me pay for parking at least?"

I protested, "Shepard, no! Did you forget I'm the one taking you out tonight? You've spent enough on me today."

"Okay," she conceded. "This is…new for me, that's all. You know it is."

"Yes, and that's exactly why you should let me take over."

Finding the double meaning in my words, Shepard only gave a smirk, letting me 'win' the exchange.

I had to laugh over her silliness.

As long as she trusted me to do this, then we really wouldn't have a problem.

Arriving to the high-rise building in this city center, Shepard went along with the valet parking, per my request. She seemed a little on-edge about it—and I deduced that she had never done this with her own car on Earth, due to trust and security issues. Given that she was the Commander Shepard, I certainly couldn't blame her. Yet I'd had to reassure Shepard that everything would be just fine, especially here on Illium with me. I may not have been able to buy out the restaurant, but Cerberus worked to ensure that I had the best protections on this colony. Shepard and Oriana were part of that. We would be fine.

Inside the fine sleek and polish of the building's interior lobby, we made our way to the main elevator. I was very particular about linking my arm through Shepard's this time. Instead of having her merely hold my hand as usual. Dressed up in their own dinner attire, there were a number of humans, salarians, and asari I recognized—one-time business contacts, information brokers whom I'd solicited once or twice, and others who'd tried and failed to court my romantic attention at some point. As for everyone else, if I didn't recognize them, then they certainly recognized me on Shepard's arm. They all stared accordingly. Predictably.

Annoyed by all the staring, Shepard asked me, "Babe, do you know these people?"

"Some of them," I replied. "In-passing. I wouldn't even call them acquaintances. Minor contacts."

"Well, a lot of them are getting a pretty good look at you."

Affectionate, I rubbed the smooth sleeve of Shepard's dinner jacket, feeling how tense her arm was—as if she was prepared to fight. "It's sweet that you're protective of me, but there's no need to worry. They can stare all they want. I'm here with you. Everyone knows that. Try to relax."

Tenseness subsiding, Shepard still remained vigilant as we entered the somewhat crowded elevator.

We were all headed to the same place at the topmost floor. Knowing this, Shepard had us stand near the back. Right against the wall. Everyone else continued on with their shallow conversations about Illium's stock market, obviously inflated stories about their business successes, or psychotic tales about some poor fellows they'd conned out of a fair deal. No one was foolish enough to turn around to stare at us. Certainly not with Shepard giving off these protective vibes, despite my advice. Though I did appreciate her efforts.

Sometimes I wondered how she reconciled her violent upbringing on the streets with this life we had now—one of wealth and excess and privilege. This seemed to be the intersection where she existed.

The uniqueness of her perspective only added to Shepard's intelligence and appeal, in my eyes.

She was truly one of a kind.

At the very top of the building, we all exited the elevator.

Everyone else continued on to the wide, open entrance of the restaurant overlooking the cityscape. That generous space of the establishment's interior: we found the eternal warmth of the overhead lights, as well as the light brown color scheme of the tables, chairs, flooring, and walls. Matching in that warmth, the area proved a fine contrast to the dark of the night, outside the many picture windows all around. The stars and the city lights outside shone brighter because of the contrast; and the other customers sitting at their tables were no less devious in their business dealings. They looked pure enough tonight.

Shepard spotted the nearby sign and paused.

"Miranda, I can't believe you," she said, nearly incredulous. "Bertrand at Mister A's? This is one of the best restaurants in San Diego. French-American cuisine. They have one of these on Illium?"

"The very same," I answered. "I figured you would recognize it. Have you ever been here before?"

"No, I haven't. I just know where it is—over on Fifth Avenue. I heard it's pretty romantic. Looks like it."

"Well, we should go to the one in your hometown sometime. Perhaps down the line, if there's time. We could even make it a tradition if it suits you."

Humming in agreement, Shepard led me inside to the restaurant proper. Together we went to our reserved table—just outside along the balcony, in a private area away from these other groups of people and conversations. Though I had to keep from smiling too much, since I'd managed to impress her so far.

But of course, one of the customers started causing a scene, ruining the mood.

The stuck-up, indignant, entitled asari at her table shouted at the manager, who'd come over to try and calm her down. I had no idea what her problem was—only that she yelled about some horrible injustice or another, and she refused to accept it. The other guests at her table had their heads down, covering their faces in embarrassment; trying to avoid being seen. Yet they looked more like hostages than friends or associates. Hostages who clearly didn't want to be seated with this woman, precisely because of her temper. She had a number of Eclipse guards scanning the area along the perimeter, too.

I scoffed in disgust once I recognized who it was.

Nassana Dantius was actually here at this very restaurant. She yelled and hollered at the manager about the supposedly poor service. When the manager could not, or would not accede to whatever demands she'd made, Nassana got up and stormed outside. Each of her so-called guests scrambled to follow, as if there would have been consequences if they'd stayed behind instead. Her guards all followed as well.

"Interesting," remarked Shepard.

As we arrived to our table outside, I asked, "You recognize her, don't you? Vasir and I talked about her."

"Yeah, Nassana Dantius," she replied, helping me sit down first. "I met her on the Citadel during the last mission against Saren. I think she was a diplomat or something. She tried to bribe me to go kill her 'corrupt' sister. I turned her down because I didn't need the money. Something seemed off about her anyway. I only found out later that Nassana and her sister were both corrupt. Heard it on the news."

"In that case, I'm glad you didn't end up helping her. I'm sure we'll see her again when we meet Thane."

Shepard went to her chair adjacent to mine, taking off her jacket. "Something tells me you're right."

As removed as we were from the rest of the people inside, we could enjoy this quieted peace, alone.

Or as alone as possible, anyway.

Yet Shepard didn't seem to mind. She gazed at me in tenderness all the same. Her sunlit eyes glimmered more in the faint lights shining in from inside the restaurant. Never too much, she stayed balanced in her regard of me: as perfect as the equilibrium all around us, with this wonderful temperature. The heated lamps near us gave off a pleasant radiance, simulating the ease and comfort of a cozy fireplace.

I felt the same in my chest, in my heart—and in my hand, as Shepard held mine in hers.

So many words, so many sentiments simmered there in her sight, completely focused on me.

I prodded her, "Something on your mind?"

Shepard smiled in such a breathtaking beauty. "You're happy with me. Aren't you?"

"Of course I am," I told her, unable to hold back my own smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Maybe this is uncharted territory for me."

I had hoped she would bring this up. "Hm, what do you mean by that? I'm not your first by any means."

"No, but this is the first time I'm…trying. Making an effort. Mentally. Emotionally. Not shutting you out."

"And when you were angry with me for what I did, weeks ago…were you going to mentally check out?"

Head-on, dead-on, Shepard kept firm eye contact with me. "I wasn't going to at all. Not even close."

Her certainty in me bolstered mine for her. "Well…why not? Why am I your first in this way?"

"Because I can't help it. Even now, I want to do anything I can to please you."

Completely charming, Shepard lowered her lips to my hand. Pressing, kissing—her breaths warmed my skin, my knuckles, the light bend of my wrist. She had me smiling exactly as she wanted.

I told her in lightness, "Well, I hope that includes letting me pay for dinner. You should get used to this."

"You plan on making this a regular thing?"

"Not necessarily," I replied, checking the menu on the kiosk. "I mean that in a broader sense. You and I both are used to being in control. So it's interesting to me how we're able to shift from dynamic to dynamic. I only want you to be more fluid about these things. As will I. I expect this will all work out quite well." Reading through these French-American blended dishes, I already knew: "Can I also expect that you'll want to stick with a salad tonight? I'm assuming there's a particular reason you've never been here."

Shepard gave me such a silly grin. "You know I like simple foods."

"Nothing complicated, hm? Is French cuisine really too exotic for you?"

"Hmm, maybe…"

I scoffed. "You're such an American."

Joyful and free, Shepard laughed.

Hearing her like this, I couldn't help smiling more.

I had to tell her, "You're lucky you're so adorable, you know. Otherwise I would think you were downright conservative in your tastes. I'll need to work around how picky you are."

Shepard bargained with me, "Hey, let's keep it easy tonight. I have a taste for salad this time. Really."

"Mmm, all right. But at least get the lobster salad. It looks rather large. Would you like us to share it?"

"Yes, I'd like that a lot. Thank you, Miranda. Pick whatever you want us to drink."

Shepard's eyes lit up upon seeing the full plate of salad, of that leafy assortment cushioning the slices of lobster scattered about on top. She also approved of the two glasses of chilled moscato I settled on.

"I'm curious now," I said. "Where did this love for salad come from? Some sort of military simplicity or scarcity? I know I've technically seen all of your memories when I put them back together. But it was all so much. I'm afraid I don't remember every single detail. You'll have to enlighten me on this."

"It's okay, babe," allowed Shepard, letting me eat first. "And no, it's not from being in the military. This goes way back to when I was a kid…" I sensed some apprehension in her voice. She'd never talked about this with anyone. Yet she decided to share with me: "My house mother didn't have a lot of money, but she made sure we ate healthy. When she wasn't doing well, or my older house siblings were busy, this was the one thing I knew how to make for myself. I didn't have to rely on them. It helped me cope."

"Oh, I see… But—your house mother? You mean the one who cared for you in place of your parents? This sounds very familiar."

"Yeah, it's just—she was a gay man. She presented as a woman. Didn't have the money to transition. I can't remember when exactly: she died of a red sand overdose when I was maybe five or six. Our oldest sibling took over. She didn't last long, for similar reasons. It was a constant cycle that whole time. On top of that, our housing complex got torn down by the time I was fourteen. Gentrification in the area drove us out."

"I'm sorry to hear that… You know, something tells me you don't discuss this often."

Shepard bought some time with her drink, sipping a bit. "No. I don't. I've never talked about this at all."

"Well, I want you to share more with me. But only if you feel comfortable."

"I mean, this does tie into how different I feel. Being in a place like this. If we're only talking about money and status, then I'm supposed to fit in. Doesn't always seem like it. I grew up as a thug, killing people on the streets to survive, and to protect my chosen family. I don't really belong here."

"Have you ever felt like you belonged somewhere? Aside from the Normandy, perhaps."

"Back in those days," said Shepard. "With my friends, my family. When I said I had a house mother, I meant that in a specific way. She was in charge of our house in San Diego's ballroom culture. Without that whole scene—that support system—I probably wouldn't have made it. The same was true for a bunch of other gay kids like me. Mostly black and Latino kids. That community was my home."

"Yes, I remember now," I shared. "I've certainly read about it. Watched a few documentaries."

"Paris is Burning?"

I smiled. "Of course."

Shepard nodded in satisfaction. "Then you know all about walking the balls. Realness. Things like that."

"Realness as passing, indeed. Putting on a show, putting on a performance with that persona, and that idea. It's no wonder you were such a natural in the fashion scene. Walking for the ballroom is essentially doing a themed runway, isn't it? Winning prizes for your house. Having that true celebration together."

"Yeah, I learned a thing or two about fashion from the ballroom. Celebrating our own idea of opulence and wealth helped us escape. It gave us the chance to see what we could've had, beyond the circumstances in front of us. We all had our specific categories: executive realness, butch queen realness; serving face, serving body. Voguing was pretty big, too. I earned a few trophies myself."

"Did you, really?" I asked, intrigued. "Which category were you best at?"

More relaxed now, Shepard gave such a proud smile. "Military realness. I would always walk for that one. That was my thing. It's what got me interested in the Alliance. Something about it clicked for me."

"Mmm, it certainly shows. I'm only wondering why you didn't want to become a model in that case."

"I guess…because I knew the world wasn't the same as the ballrooms. People didn't see me as that tough, aspiring marine from the House of Balenciaga. They just saw me as Sol, this pretty girl they thought they could take advantage of. I was a commodity, not a real person. Then when I turned eighteen, I had to basically get rid of my past and go back to my legal name. My legal name from my biological parents who abandoned me. And now I have this current persona you know today."

"Your life does sound rather—intransient. You haven't had much stability, have you?"

Shepard sounded rather shy as she said, "You're right about that."

I wondered, "Hmm, why that reaction?"

"You represent stability for me. Even though your own life hasn't always been stable."

"Well, I feel the same way about you. Though you're absolutely correct about my life. In many ways, you're the only stability I have. The only real stability I've ever had. At least ever since I lost Niket long ago."

"In your letter, you talked about someone who sacrificed themselves for you. Did you mean him?"

"Yes, I did…"

Shepard reached over to hold my hand again.

She didn't need to say anything. I knew what she wanted to know.

So I took a deep breath, and explained, "I told you about how my life was. After I ran away from my father—and the time before I joined Cerberus. Niket and I lived together. We had an apartment in an unsavory part of Brisbane, my hometown. I worked as a dominatrix to put food on the table, and help pay the bills. He was grateful. We had a few plans to save up and move someplace better. But our plans were shot down once the wrong people got involved. They found out how much money I made…"

"And they wanted to take it from you."

"Yes," I replied, weary in remembrance. "You've lived that life on the streets. You know how these things go. Niket knew. I was sadly oblivious. I was on my way back home one night when it happened. Niket was outside, surrounded by several attackers. They had guns and far worse. I couldn't have taken them all on my own. He screamed at me to run…just before they killed him. I wish I would've stayed."

"Miranda, you said you couldn't. You would've ended up dead."

"Shepard, I know… It was just—difficult. Losing Niket like that. Losing him at all. From a much younger age, you watched your own friends die in similar ways. I was nearly eighteen, yes, but I'd never gone through anything like that before. I didn't know how to cope. Looking out for myself seemed to be the only answer. I fled to a safe location and called the Illusive Man right away. He agreed to take me in."

"I'm glad you had that option. Even if it was a last resort. I get why you were so upset with me before. I did almost sacrifice myself for you like that."

"I didn't mean to take that trauma out on you. Niket meant a lot to me. That's all."

Shepard had to know, "He only saw you as a friend?"

"Niket never wanted anything from me. If he felt something, he was respectful enough to keep it to himself. He was…safe. Comfortable. Despite the danger, those were more innocent times."

"I see what you mean. You ever thought about going back to your hometown? Maybe to visit."

"I've never really thought about it. My father still lives there. Seeing him around…it would be awkward."

She was kind enough to suggest: "If you ever wanna head down there, just let me know. We'll make it a priority. It's up to you, babe."

"Perhaps I'll consider it one of these days. Certainly not any time soon. Thank you nonetheless."

We spent a while longer eating together, drinking together, talking together—all underneath the starry night sky. I'd lost track of when we'd actually cleaned off our plate, though I admittedly had a few more glasses of wine to drink. Shepard had such an understated talent for charming me with her directness. Whenever she smiled at me as I spoke, she did so genuinely. Whenever she laughed with me, she did it sincerely. Whenever she called me beautiful, with the city lights enhancing the brightness of her own eyes, she made me feel as if I was the only woman on this entire colony. Illium could have been completely devoid of other sentient life, and I wouldn't notice or care. Not for as long as Shepard gave me her undivided attention. Not for as long as she admired me with her gaze, eternal in her admiration for me.

At some point after I paid for our dinner, Shepard offered her hand to me. She brought me closer to the balcony's railing. We stood along this view overlooking Nos Astra, raised so high above, among these sky-high towers and other buildings. As I'd had a bit more to drink than her—and thank goodness she was driving, instead of me—I was rather loose with my smiles and laughs. And it wasn't just the alcohol that had me feeling this way: higher than these sights, these scrapers and these stars shining over our heads.

Shepard held me from behind. Secure and meaningful in her hold, she kept her arms around my waist. This railing could have disappeared; I could have been on the edge of a cliff for all I knew, and I would have felt perfectly safe like this. Even though she had my body against her, Shepard's touch felt decidedly non-sexual. She continued to respect me. She continued to enjoy me as I was, without expecting sex or feeling entitled to anything.

I could have had her hands all over me.

Or I could have had her leg in between me—even with everyone inside the restaurant staring at us.

This wine-filled euphoria had my mind going there—mostly because of Shepard's restraint. Her normalcy. The way her breaths over my neck heated me all over. How her mind didn't seem to be anywhere near sex at all, and yet mine was. There was just something about her incredible, dominant, sizable, impossibly large demeanor that had me feeling this way.

Shepard eventually noticed…something.

That alluring depth in her voice made it all worse—"Babe. What's up with you?"

I reached my hand around, easing her face closer to mine.

Closer, for her to hold me as I was, my body wrapped in her hold, draped over her front as a Grecian flow.

Close enough for me to whisper against her skin: "Shouldn't you already know?"

And then, just like a sunrise, her face reddened beneath my lips, sun-kissed to perfection.

"Miranda…"

"Shepard, I love how respectful you are. But right now, that's getting in the way of things. I want you."

Already I felt her heart pounding against my back—as hard and as fast as I wanted her inside of me.

Still she refused to change her façade.

I gave her some more to sip on: "You know, I don't think you understand…the depths of my desires for you. I've practically killed to have you already. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. I've needed you for so long. I refused to let anyone else have me, because I knew they couldn't compare to you. It's your essence I've imagined all these years. Your spirit, your soul filling me whole. I want you to break me. To shape me. To make me yours. And for you to do it all over again—every single night. You've earned my body, Shepard. I can't believe I'm saying this, but you truly are entitled to have me."

Measured even at a time like this, Shepard wouldn't lose control. Not now. Not yet.

She insisted on asking me, "If that's the case, how exactly do you want it? I know there's a fetish you have. Something you've hinted about. Something you need me to lace in when I fuck you. So what is it?"

I was about to implode.

Because of her words. Because of her tone. Because she knew, and she was in control.

Struggling to keep my own control, I told her, "You'll find out soon enough. Take me home first. I'll explain more once we're there."

Keeping one arm hooked around me, she quickly went to get her jacket.

Shepard then led me back through Mister A's, managing her quickness, as she knew I was rather tipsy. She kept the same energy in getting me to the elevator, and then back to my car. And she drove us home, going slightly over the speed limit. That speed was Shepard's only giveaway, but a powerful one.

I absolutely adored this influence I had over her.

---

Movement and momentum and meaning—Shepard had her hands over me, her lips on mine as soon as we entered my apartment. The second we were through the door, she swept me away. She kissed me as hard as I wanted. She groped me as firmly as I needed. She gave me everything she could at a time like this, at a moment like this. Shepard already had me against the kitchen counter, inspiring me with her touch and her breaths and her lips, finally as unrelenting as I'd imagined. I pulled her jacket off and set it aside—somewhere over the counter, maybe, I didn't know. I was more focused on consuming her as she consumed me; breathing her as she breathed me in, more so as the smell of roses had populated all around us, enhancing everything just so.

Even still, I remembered my control again.

I pressed my palm to the firmness of Shepard's shoulder, halting her.

Drugged, she groaned, and stared at me, leveraging her weight and her strength against me.

I only smiled and said, "Not yet. We're doing this on my terms, remember? You'll have to be patient."

"For how much longer?" she grunted out.

"For however long I decide. Besides, we still need to discuss a few things. Come along, Shepard."

Pulling her with me by her loosened collar, I brought Shepard upstairs to my bedroom. The whole way, I had such a devious smirk on my face, my own lips imprinted with the memory of hers. She seemed just a little disoriented. Focused on taking me, pleasing me. Shepard couldn't really imagine much else. Almost uncharacteristic, she even stared at my ass as I walked in front of her. I shared this smirk with her from over my shoulder, loving that she'd finally decided to set aside some decorum. As I'd told her earlier, her respect for me was admirable, but it did get in the way sometimes. Times like now, I preferred her to remove the filters and her gentlemanly manners—to show me how she could've lost control, all because of how much she needed to fuck me.

That second recording I'd sent her earlier, of Jacob and me, must have surely helped with this energy.

Now that we were at this stage, with no more drama in our way, she had no excuses anymore.

Yet I wanted to keep teasing her anyway, if only to make certain we were on the same page.

Upstairs in the aquatic blue of my room, these lights from my fish tank welcomed us in the night. I took the opportunity to sit down on the bed first. Expectant. Shepard knew what I required of her. Just as she had done earlier, she knelt down before me. Kind and considerate, she kept her hormones in-check for long enough, taking my boots off for me. Even feeling this outline of her touch over my legs, beneath the leather, gave me the beginnings of such an entrancing high. I felt it more once she set both of my boots aside, staying down where she was as she removed her own shoes.

Watching her closely, I explained, "I considered having us go someplace else tonight. After dinner. Maybe to Azure, or a club or bar. The mood didn't seem right. I feel better having you at home with me instead."

"I feel the same way," she shared. "We can go out like that some other time." Uncertain, Shepard deferred to me: "How do you want to have this talk?"

"Come up here and lie down on your back."

Shepard did as I said.

Her head supported well by my pillows behind her, she seemed more than comfortable.

To reward and to tease her, I straddled Shepard's waist accordingly.

Right away she moved her hands to my hips, gripping me to hold herself still. For some kind of restraint.

She dug her nails in more the moment I took off my shirt. In confidence of my own, I smirked down at her reaction, her muted shock. Shepard hardened her gaze, as if staring straight through me with a pointed heat. She did her best to only look down at my neck, or the black lace of my bra at best. Nothing lower, nothing further. She forced herself to keep still instead. Hard breaths, harder thoughts. All perfect in my eyes.

"Do I have your attention, then?" I asked.

Shepard labored to not labor her breathing. "Yes, Miranda."

"Will you behave for a little while longer?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, good. Now onto this topic I've briefly hinted about. This specific fetish of mine. You're right that this is something I need. The thing is, I've never had it before. It's also a very sensitive matter. I hope you're ready to listen."

"I'm listening, babe."

"Well, as you know, I was created with supposedly perfect genes. The perfect woman. The perfect sex object for men. It's safe to say that the notion messed with my head. My own personal perceptions: how I see myself. I'm used to people believing that they can objectify me. As that commodity. A bitch, a whore, a slut. That hatred is palpable. At the same time…"

Shepard knew. "It's empowering when you consent to that treatment instead."

"Yes, it is," I agreed, glad that she understood. "You remember when the old crew wouldn't shut up with their opinions of me. I've dealt with that my whole life. Turning that on its head with you, it's my own way of coping with that sort of thing. Feeling free from those hurt feelings in the past. Like I'm stronger than those words, those actions, those power structures. That specific gaze. Empowering, as you said."

"But in any other situation, you won't tolerate it."

"Of course not. In trust and consent, this is a major turn-on for me. Humiliate me, objectify me. Use me. All in that way. As long as I'm in the correct headspace, it'll drive me wild. I hope you'll be able to tell the difference. This also clashes with your manners. Your fairness. So I want you to think it over. All right?"

"I hear what you're saying. I promise I'll think about it first."

Holding Shepard's gorgeous face in my hands, I leaned down to kiss her once: deep and full of gratitude.

"You know what my other stipulations are," I whispered, right in her mouth. "When we have sex, you're to wear a condom. I want the responsibility of monitoring any possible changes with my cycle. I need your faith, your security, and your certainty. No cheating whatsoever. Not physically, not emotionally. I won't allow any other women to come between us—never, ever again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, I understand," she vowed. "You're my only one. I'll work to keep things that way."

"I enjoy hearing that from you. But, more importantly, I'm essentially writing you a blank check. I don't have a contract for us. Mostly because I don't know what else I want or don't want. I'd like you to help me find out what those things are. I gave you my hard limit, back at Eternity, about you not leaving me alone. Aside from the other things I just mentioned, everything else is open for our discovery together."

Shepard accepted my utmost trust in her. "Okay, babe. We'll figure this out in due time. I'm with you."

"That sounds wonderful, Shepard. But what about you? Is there anything you need from me?"

"Miranda, you're already giving it to me. It's automatic for you. It's part of your personality."

"Hmm, how do you mean?"

Smirking over the obvious, she pointed out, "The main thing…we do it by default. I'm younger than you. I think I give off a certain energy you thrive on. I like catering to you. Pleasing you. You're unapologetic in the things you need from me. I really love that about you."

I laughed softly. "Don't you think I'm bossy?"

"No, you're not bossy. You are the boss. There's a big difference."

Laughing more in pure delight, I had to agree. "I do enjoy the sound of that."

"I mean it, babe. Whenever you say I expect, it gets me going. I want to follow your orders."

"I'll take that as the utmost compliment from you. Though I have to add—I expect you to keep behaving tonight. I have one final surprise for us."

"I'll do as you say. What's this surprise?"

Opening my omni-tool, I checked the time.

Exactly 10:00pm.

Oddly punctual.

"It's something I've taken my time with showing you. I'm not sure if you remember: when we were first on Omega together, you asked me about one of the ship's facilities. Insomnia. It's only available to use at certain times—from ten at night to seven in the morning. It's a virtual reality game."

"Yeah, I remember," said Shepard. "I thought it was strange. I couldn't access the game myself at the time. You put some type of block. Usually, the captain has access to everything on their ship."

"Usually, yes. But I asked EDI to forbid your access for the time being. As a favor to me."

"Until you were ready."

"I'm ready now. We don't need to be aboard the Normandy to access it. We're still within range."

"Well…what is this game about, exactly?"

"I'd much rather show you directly. Let's just say this game is the sum of my feelings for you. Uncensored."

Teasing more, I used my omni-tool to place a holographic headset over Shepard's eyes. Then I activated the game, sending her into the pitch black of Insomnia's first interface. Once she answered my questions, the resolution that Legion told me about would be complete. Shepard and I could explore this summation of my hard work for her, my devotion for her. We could experience this grandiose awe of what could have been in our lives. Until everything had changed.

Insomnia was what I had prepared for.

Insomnia was what I had expected throughout the Lazarus Project.

Insomnia had been my only hope across two years of hopelessness, working myself to death for this.

Professional to the last, I would have surely succeeded in my efforts. Yet now that Shepard and I were on this path, what I'd conceived before was no longer necessary. No longer needed, but the spectacle and the power and the meaning were no less so. She deserved this special treatment from me, as this gift of her unconscious mind, now linked to the broader universe: as this sleepless city of her greatness, unending.