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The evening in the apartment with Kaidan had been lovely, but it ended very early. Shepard was exhausted after the events of the first couple of days of shore leave, and she felt the clone, and all the Cerberus questions behind her, hanging in the air between them, even though Kaidan didn't so much as hint at the subject.
They made love, sleepily, and fell asleep together.
When Shepard awoke the next morning, later than usual, Kaidan was gone. There was a note by the coffee machine telling her to call when she got up, and the machine itself was blessedly full of fragrant hot coffee.
Shepard opened cupboards until she found the coffee mugs—a generous supply; Anderson loved his caffeine—and poured herself a cup, carrying it into the living room where she could sit and watch the skycars go by outside the window.
Out of habit, she called up her email. She nearly closed the omni-tool, afraid to spoil her shore leave further by reading emails that would make her feel like she needed to put the Normandy straight back to work, refit or no refit, but a quick glance at the first few emails made her smile and relax.
Javik asked her to meet him on the Strip—he had gotten used to the Citadel quickly, it seemed. Traynor wanted to meet for lunch; EDI asked to come over to the apartment for some "girl time". Shepard didn't know what the AI meant by that, but then, she wasn't sure she'd ever experienced girl time, so whatever EDI had in mind was probably fine with her.
She realized she was nearly at the time Javik had set for meeting, so she quickly replied to all three in the affirmative, finished the last of her coffee, and collapsed her omni-tool.
It was strange to leave an entire apartment sitting there unused while she ran around the Citadel. Shepard felt as though there were things most homeowners would know to do when they left—turn off the coffee maker? She had done that, at least. And the door would lock behind her until it opened again with her personal code.
Feeling as though she had done everything she knew to do, she left the apartment and headed to the Strip. Javik was waiting for her, watching the crowds of people around him with his usual superior expression,
"Commander," he greeted her. "I have been asked to take part in a 'vid'. I am told it is a great honor and will boost morale for the war."
Shepard wasn't certain she'd have put the last living Prothean in a vid—that seemed like putting more of a target on his back than she was comfortable with—but he seemed unusually enthusiastic about it. "Who exactly is producing this vid?"
"Come. We will go."
He led her down a set of hallways to a small suite that looked more industrial than anything else. The doors opened for them, and a salarian came toward them. "Commander Shepard! I didn't realize you were coming, too! Perfect timing, perfect timing. You can play yourself."
"I am myself." She glanced at Javik in question. He shrugged.
No one paid much attention to them. The small room was bustling with people, filled with equipment. The salarian made his way through the crowd, people moving aside as he waved his arms. "Attention: The Prothean is on the set! Someone tell the stunt double he's been demoted—we have the real Shepard now."
A man in Alliance fatigues crossed his arms over his chest and pouted. Their Shepard was a man? How low-budget was this concern, anyway?
Without another word addressed to Shepard or Javik, the salarian called 'places'. They stood where he pointed, both completely at sea. The salarian, apparently the director, called 'action', and three actors playing the Council—a salarian, a volus, and a vorcha, oddly enough—began reciting badly written lines … badly.
Javik turned to Shepard, frowning even more than usual. "I believe I have been misinformed about the purpose of this … vid."
At that moment, the star of the movie came floating in. A hanar. Shepard suddenly understood exactly what was going on: This was a Blasto movie, and they were in the presence of Blasto himself, intergalactic action star.
Also, insufferable prat with an ego nearly as over-inflated as his body. He and Shepard got into an argument over who was the more legitimate Spectre, including drawn weapons. Only Javik's offer to let him decide if he wanted to be eaten boiled or fried got Blasto to back down.
The scene continued to unfold haltingly until Shepard couldn't take it anymore, shoving Blasto out of the way so she could put the 'indoctrinated vorcha counselor' out of all their misery. Blasto shoved back, and they might have kept on all afternoon if Javik hadn't blasted the vorcha himself, loudly announcing that he wished he knew where the airlock was so he could throw the whole lot of them out of it.
He turned to Shepard. "May we go now, Commander?"
She gave Blasto a last contemptuous glance. "Please."
As they left, the director was calling out for the sets for Blasto's next movie, Blasto Cures the Genophage, to be brought out. Shepard rolled her eyes. She had never seen a Blasto vid, and now she was damned sure she never would.
"Well, thank you, Javik. That was educational."
"That was ridiculous," he snapped. "I am sorry I convinced you to join me."
"Oh, no, it was certainly an … unforgettable experience."
Javik nodded. "As you say, Commander. I will see you on the Normandy."
"Enjoy the rest of your shore leave," she called after him.
The growling of her stomach reminded her that she was due to meet Traynor for lunch. Except that Traynor had allowed herself to get embroiled in a strategy game tournament—Kepesh-Yakshi, she called it. Unsurprisingly, Traynor was quite good at it. At the end of the tournament, she was faced with her arch-enemy, and Shepard could see the other woman quailing at the challenge.
"Specialist?"
"Commander?" Traynor asked.
"Kick. Her. Ass."
Traynor straightened up, her resolve returning. "Roger that."
And she did, quite handily. Shepard was proud of her.
Only once she had left Traynor enjoying her victory did she realize she had never managed to have lunch, and now EDI was due at the apartment any minute now.
Shepard stopped quickly by a small noodle shop, ordering takeout, and hurried back to the apartment, meeting EDI in the lobby. "Good timing."
"I am programmed to be punctual," EDI reminded her.
"That you are. So, what's the plan for our 'girl time'?"
"I thought we could experience an afternoon of acquiring material possessions for our associates."
"Shopping?" Shepard wasn't sure she had ever spent an afternoon shopping, but it definitely qualified as girl time. "Sure."
"Jeff has lent me his credit chit on the condition that I enjoy myself and 'live it up like a girly girl'."
"You don't have money of your own? No, I guess you don't. We'll have to see what we can do about that."
"I thought of turning to crime, but that would look bad on a resume."
Shepard grinned. She did appreciate EDI's sense of humor. They got off the elevator and Shepard keyed in the code to the apartment, half afraid as the door slid open that she had left something on and would be coming in to a huge mess. But everything was as peaceful as she had left it, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she carried her noodles to the kitchen. "So what's first?" she asked.
"I believe Jeff would be surprised and pleased if I got him a gift. What would you recommend?"
"Start with something you both like. What do you do together?" The question was out before Shepard could think about it and she devoutly hoped the answer wouldn't be more than she wanted to know.
"We interact most closely when we are flying. It occurs to me that he does not have a skycar for traveling around the Presidium."
Shepard was barely in time to keep EDI from blowing Joker's savings on an expensive skycar, convincing her to rent one for a few days instead. "Who's next?"
"You are, Commander." EDI produced a small box, opening it to reveal a beautiful ring.
"Uh … are we getting married?"
"No. There is a jeweler on the Citadel who produces these. They are made from metals from each Council homeworld. He calls them victory rings. They are rare, due to material shortages. I thought you deserved to have one."
"Thank you, EDI." Touched, Shepard reached out for the box, admiring the craftsmanship. She smiled at her friend. "Rare is nice—unique is better."
"Are you … valuing me, Commander?"
"I am. I always do. We're lucky to have you."
"Thank you."
Clearing her throat before she could get any more emotional, Shepard suggested they consider something for Liara next, and a very pleasant hour flew by as they put a serious dent in Joker's credit chit. If this was girl time, Shepard reflected, maybe she should consider doing more of it.