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Shepard allowed Cortez to escort her to Purgatory, although she didn't take his advice to go back to the ship and change into something more suited to dancing. She figured once he saw her in action, he'd give up on the dancing idea and she could just stand at the bar for a while with a beer.
"You're looking happy, Steve," she said to him in the elevator.
"You had it right: Yesterday can't change. Tomorrow we might all be dead."
"Is that what I said? Sounds pretty gruesome to me."
He smiled. "Well, maybe I'm paraphrasing. Anyway, it got me thinking that today is really all that matters—and I don't want to waste any more todays."
"I can drink to that." The music was pounding beneath her feet even before they reached the doors, and she frowned in Cortez's direction. "I never had you pegged as a club guy." Although watching him as he unconsciously moved to the beat, she was changing that opinion.
"Don't knock it. Good music, graceful dancing …" He stopped talking as a particularly fit soldier went by, Cortez's eyes following him. "Eye candy's not bad, either."
"Glad to see you taking an interest in life, Steve."
He grinned at her. "There's an energy here, Shepard. There's life. It's good to be reminded that this life, this energy—this is what we do it for."
He had a point, she thought, watching the press of people on the dance floor. Life was going on right in front of her, happening between people. This was what all the arguments, all the fights, all the weary nights when she wondered if she could keep going, were for.
"Purgatory serves the best drinks," Cortez shouted in her ear. "Want one?"
"Beer!"
He gave her a thumbs-up sign and wove his way through the crowd, swaying to the music. More than one interested pair of eyes followed his progress, Shepard noticed. And why not? He was a good-looking man—and he deserved to find happiness again.
He came back with a small tray balanced on his hand. She was glad to see her beer, and somewhat alarmed at the array of shots arranged on the tray. "Those aren't for me, are they?"
"House specialty. Have one!"
She considered protesting, but decided one couldn't hurt. They saluted each other with their shot glasses. Cortez leaned in, close enough to her ear that he didn't have to shout. "You were a good friend to me when I needed one most. I won't forget that. Thank you."
Shepard nodded rather than trying to speak, and they downed their shots. It burned, turning into a glow somewhere along the way.
"One of those is for me, right?" She turned to see Garrus there, with Liara in tow. Emily Wong was with them, and she could see Daniels and Donnelly, Joker and EDI, Vega, Kaidan …
"Is anyone running the ship?"
"Adams said he had it, we should go have fun. Which I'm going to." Donnelly nodded at her and slipped off into the crowd, Daniels right behind him.
"Let's have another round," Garrus suggested, and Shepard found herself downing another shot.
She refused anything more than a beer after that, letting the others scatter. Cortez leaned in. "I'm gonna go dance with that hot sailor there, but then I'm coming back and teaching you how to move."
"Good luck!"
Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a familiar figure, moving closer until she was sure she was seeing right. It was Jack, standing near the wall with her omni-tool open, her face serious and focused.
"Jack?"
"Shepard? Shepard! What the hell are you doing here?"
"I got dragged here."
"Huh." Jack looked her up and down. "We're both at a club, and you're drunk and I'm reading duty rosters. What the fuck did you to do me, Shepard?"
Shepard grinned. "It looks good on you! Your kids doing all right?"
"Thanks to you. They're handling the support stuff well. Still see some action, but they're not on the front lines. They've saved a lot of lives."
"I'm glad." Shepard reached for Jack's arm. "Come on."
"What are we doing?"
"Duty rosters can wait. Let's dance!"
"Shepard, everybody knows you can't dance!"
"Then teach me!" She wasn't sure where that had come from, or if she liked the broad grin that spread across Jack's face, but what was a club for if not to loosen up, to let your brain stop working in favor of feeling the beat all through your body?
Between the three of them, Cortez and Jack and Vega started instilling in Shepard the rudiments of moving with the beat, how to let it course through her and out her feet, and how not to flail her arms around and hit anyone. After a bit, she noticed that Vega and Jack had switched to a higher level of dance move on their own, and Cortez had drifted off with a different hot sailor.
Shepard felt that meant she had probably danced enough for one night, and she managed to shift her way through the crowd and off the floor. She found herself next to Joker, and was glad to stop moving and lean on the bar next to him. The floor was swaying a little, she thought, and it was nice to have something solid to hold on to.
"Look at this!" Joker said. "All it took was a Cerberus attack on the Citadel to get folks around here to pay attention to the war."
"How is this different from normal?"
He glanced around them. "Can't you see the desperation? This isn't happy dancing. This is 'forget my problems' dancing. Look at the arms. If a guy waves his arms like that, he's worrying about a lot more than looking stupid on the dance floor."
"Huh. Very observant of you."
"Yeah, I've had a lot of time to watch other people dance. Speaking of which … what do you think of me and EDI?"
She thought it was odd, was what she thought, but she had sense enough, even tipsy, not to say that to Joker. "Why not?"
"Because I could break a bone just from some light over-the-clothes action?"
"That's always a risk. But then, so are the Reapers."
"Well, I wasn't planning on dating Harbinger."
Shepard frowned at him. "You know what I mean. If we all ended up dead this time tomorrow, what would you regret?"
"Getting a shattered pelvis. And a broken heart."
"Broken hearts heal. So do pelvises. What doesn't heal is loneliness. Go wave your arms." She nudged him gently.
"All right, all right, I'm going."
She watched him move off, carefully, then stood there, letting the bar hold her up and surveying her people. A small crowd had formed around Jack and Vega, who were both good dancers. Cortez was locked in the arms of his sailor, dancing very close. Garrus and Liara were laughing together. Daniels was stalking off the dance floor, with a flustered and fast-talking Donnelly on her heels. Shepard didn't see Emily, and suspected she had already headed back to the ship. No doubt she was playing chess with Traynor—if she hadn't finally managed to convince Traynor to play a more personal game.
And Kaidan … was somehow standing right next to her and she hadn't even noticed him. "Hey," she said to him now.
He smiled. "Hey, Shepard. How many shots did they talk you into?"
"Two. Two? Two. I think. No more," she said emphatically.
"Having a good night?"
"I think so. They tried to teach me to dance."
"A worthy endeavor."
Shepard narrowed her eyes at him, and he laughed, holding up his hands.
"I think I promised Aria T'Loak I'd help her take back Omega," she told him. "Maybe I can convince her later it was the booze talking."
"Good luck with that."
They stood there together companionably, looking out over the dance floor. Shepard was reminded of a night like this at Afterlife, with Thane, when things were new between them. But she didn't want to think about Thane. Not tonight. She was so tired of grief, and worry, and frustration, and fighting. She wanted—just for a minute, maybe two—not to think. Just to feel.
There were two ways that could happen. One was more shots, which seemed like a bad idea. The second one was also a bad idea, in a different way, but was so temptingly near …
Before she could think better of it, she caught hold of Kaidan's jacket, pulling him close, and kissed him.
He froze, not even breathing, and just as her hazed mind was about to stop the kiss and apologize, she felt his strong arms slide around her waist.
Juniper was melting against him, all thought lost in the solid press of his body against hers and the heat of his mouth. She felt—safe, standing here in Kaidan's arms, as though she could let go of everything and he would still be here, still be holding her. Her hand moved up his back, sliding into his hair, feeling the softness of it curling around her fingers.
The texture, so unfamiliar now after so long with Thane, broke the spell, and she pulled herself away. "Kaidan, I am so sorry! That was—uncalled for. I didn't mean—"
She looked at him, stricken, trying to gauge what he was thinking, but his dark eyes were unreadable in the dim lighting of the club.
"So sorry," she said again, and pushed past him, making her way out of the club, feeling utterly mortified.