Thank you all for reading!
A few days later as Shepard came through the main command center from Mordin's lab, Chambers chirped brightly, "You have new private email on your server, Commander."
Restraining herself from biting the girl's head off with difficulty, Shepard went to her computer terminal. They all knew she'd been in a foul mood since the mission on Horizon, hard as she had tried to hide it. Lack of sleep, emotional turmoil, inability to put her feelings into words … She wished she could just forget Kaidan, but the memory of the way he had looked at her when she mentioned Cerberus wouldn't go away, no matter how much she tried to banish it.
The rest of the crew had taken to approaching her with strict professionalism, but Chambers couldn't seem to get that idea through her head. Shepard assumed that she must actually be some kind of robot, programmed to emit relentless cheeriness, because no human could be that bright-eyed and happy all the time. It simply wasn't possible.
She logged into her email, scrolling down to the new messages. The name on the most recent one made her blanch and shut the computer with an audible snap. Kaidan Alenko.
Her heart was pounding, her cheeks warm. She imagined she must be red in the face. Clinging to the edge of the tabletop, Shepard worked to get herself under control. She couldn't read that email here in front of everyone; she needed privacy. Was he still angry? Was he apologizing for his reaction? Did he still love her? Did he want to give what they'd had another chance? Was he declaring he never wanted to hear from her again?
She shook herself. Standing here and wondering wasn't going to get her anywhere. She had to read it.
Turning, she started for the elevator, then thought of something, and turned back. "Chambers. Come with me."
"Yes, Commander." Dutifully, Chambers followed her to the elevator.
Once the doors slid closed, Shepard turned on her, careful to keep her distance. She tried hard to avoid any appearance of trying to physically intimidate any of her crew. In her experience, being frightened of a superior officer didn't get the best out of any subordinate, and it was always Shepard's goal to maintain an open and approachable attitude towards those under her command. If they didn't trust her, she couldn't trust them. She'd found it worked best if you kept the fist for others and the velvet glove for the subordinates … as long as they knew the fist was there, it was enough.
"Are you reading my email?"
Chambers' eyes went wide, all innocent and just a little hurt. A good act. It might have been touching if Shepard had trusted the girl half as far as she could throw her. "Of course not, Commander."
"Then how do you know when new ones come in?"
"I … monitor the server traffic, that's all, Commander. You know my task is to keep an eye on the crew, to make certain everyone's in good shape, physically and emotionally. Having an idea who they're communicating with is part of that, for all of our safety, and helps me know who has a healthy social circle and who … doesn't." Her voice trailed off as if she had just remembered that Shepard was one of the latter category.
"You notify everyone else when they have an email?"
"Oh, no, only you!"
Shepard wanted to snap at the girl, but forced the question to come out soft and interested instead. "Why?"
Chambers shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "You're very busy, Commander. I only want to make sure you don't miss anything you might want to read, that's all. You …" She cleared her throat. "Permission to speak freely, Commander?"
With a quick nod, Shepard said, "Granted."
"You work too hard. And you don't do anything but work. If you were anyone else on the ship, I would be bringing you to your attention." She flushed at the awkward wording. "Sorry, but you know what I mean. I just want to make sure that you find time for your personal life. Friends and … all. Commander."
"I see." The elevator came to a stop at the top of the ship, outside the door to Shepard's quarters, and she stuck her finger on the button to keep it open. "Well, if you feel that way, I suppose you're to be congratulated on your restraint."
The fact that Shepard wasn't smiling meant that Chambers' smile was hesitant, and vanished quickly—as much as her smile ever vanished, anyway. "Thank you, Commander."
"But I think I'm going to have to ask you to consider my … personal life off-limits. There's an entire ship full of people for you to keep an eye on that way, that should take up enough of your time. My mental state is my own business, and I'll handle it as I see fit. Understood?"
"Yes, Commander."
"Good." Shepard took her hand off the button and stepped out of the elevator. It closed immediately and she could hear the mechanism whir as it took Chambers back down to the command level. She didn't think there was a chance in hell Chambers would listen to her, but having said it at least made clear her expectations. What Cerberus's orders were, and how far they superceded her own wishes, was another question altogether, and one she had little enough control over that it wasn't worth worrying about.
As she keyed in her code to open the door of her quarters, her heart sped up again, her mind back on Kaidan's email and what it might have to say. But she forced herself to move slowly, to feed the fish and spend a moment watching them leap for the food, before sitting down in her chair, running her fingers affectionately along the top of the picture frame with Kaidan's picture in it, and opening her computer.
The email was titled "About Horizon…", and immediately brought to mind his anger, his disappointment, his rejection of her. Shepard closed her eyes, feeling a ridiculous urge to cry. She hadn't yet—hadn't cried in years, actually. It was something she'd learned to suppress early on in her career, finding the disadvantages greatly outweighed the emotional relief. When she had fought the urge successfully, she opened her eyes again and read the email, scanning it once quickly, then rereading more slowly.
"Shepard,
"I'm sorry for what I said back on Horizon. I spent two years pulling myself back together after you went down with the Normandy. It took me a long time to get over my guilt for surviving and move on. I'd finally let my friends talk me into going out for drinks with a doctor on the Citadel. Nothing serious, but trying to let myself have a life again, you know?
"Then I saw you, and everything pulled hard to port. You were standing in front of me, but you were with Cerberus. I guess I really don't know who either of us is anymore. Do you even remember that night before Ilos? That night meant everything to me… maybe it meant as much to you. But a lot has changed in the last two years and I can't just put that aside.
"But please be careful. I've watched too many people close to me die—on Eden Prime, on Virmire, on Horizon, on the Normandy. I couldn't bear it if I lost you again. If you're still the woman I remember, I know you'll find a way to stop these Collector attacks. But Cerberus is too dangerous to be trusted. Watch yourself.
"When things have settled down a little… maybe… I don't know. Just take care.
"—Kaidan"
Shepard had to smile, wondering what the Illusive Man thought of Kaidan's anti-Cerberus remarks. She had no illusion as to whether her emails were transmitted without being read first—the Illusive Man wanted to keep tabs on her. So even if Chambers wasn't reading them, it was a sure bet he was.
She thought of the night before Ilos, letting Commander Shepard go and being Juniper again for the first time in a long time, feeling Kaidan's desire for her, his tenderness, in the trembling of his body against hers, in the passion of his kisses. That had been a night she would remember fondly for the rest of her life, no matter what happened between herself and Kaidan going forward.
Reading it once more, she could almost hear his raspy voice, the softness in his tone, the openness he had used with her once they started getting to know one another. It was almost as if he was here in the room with her.
Rather than wait to respond until later, when her thoughts could tangle again, she hit the reply button and started typing, letting the words flow as if she was talking to him.
"Kaidan—
"I'm glad you reached out. I wanted to, but I didn't know what to say. Seeing you—other than the mission, it was all I thought about from the moment I woke up in the facility. For me, it hasn't been two years. Only a few months. I didn't know what had happened—didn't know anything at all—and then suddenly I opened my eyes in a lab and was all alone, with no one I knew, owing my life to a group I had learned to distrust. So, yes, I was willing to give the Illusive Man a hearing based on what he had done for me. They spared no expense—I'm myself in every way, completely rebuilt from the inside out, and they did the work thoughtfully and with generosity. And in exchange, they asked me to save the lives of thousands of human colonists, work I would be willing to do anyway. The next thing they ask may not be so in line with my own inclinations, and we will see then if I am free to say no. They say I am; I intend to act as if I am."
She smiled to herself, imagining the Illusive Man's reaction when he read that. Well, it was nothing she hadn't said to his face … or his holographic image's face, rather, already.
"I remember that night before Ilos—how could I not? In every detail. It meant, means, more to me than I can possibly tell you. As do all the nights after it. I regret that we never said to each other in those nights the word you used when we met on Horizon, I regret the first time that word came up between us it was in anger when you believed I'd betrayed you. Because I felt that way about you, too, and in many ways I still do and probably always will. But as you say, the world is different now, we're different now, and we both have to decide who we are.
"If you ever need anything, you have it, no questions asked. And if, by some miracle, we ever find ourselves again in the same place with no one attacking us and nothing to fix, I hope you'll let me buy you dinner. All other things aside, I miss talking to my friend."
She hesitated before signing it, "Shepard." The Illusive Man's background check must have been thorough enough to discover her name, but she didn't feel like giving it to him if he hadn't already found it … and she wasn't sure she was that person to Kaidan, not any longer. She would leave it at Shepard for now, and hope that someday there would be time to reconnect.
Clicking 'send', Shepard gently closed the computer, her hand resting on the flat top for a moment. It was done, at least for now, and he was gone. She glanced at the picture, thinking she should put it away … but she wasn't done with her memories, yet. She thought she might need them in the days to come. So she would keep the picture up, and occasionally she would pretend this was still the old Normandy and Kaidan was going to come in any minute now, and for a brief moment she would be Juniper again. Just so she didn't forget how.