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Shepard hadn't been back in the apartment for long—enough time to wonder what to do with herself, but not enough time to come to any conclusions—when Vega rang the doorbell from the lobby. She buzzed him up, relieved to be able to put off deciding what her leisure pursuits might be until tomorrow, at least.
Vega got a few steps into the apartment and stopped short, looking around him as though he was seeing it for the first time. "Kinda forgot how big this place is. Looks bigger without all the rest of the crew in it." Grinning, he added, "It might not still look so nice after throwing that party you were talking about."
"I suppose it depends on who I invite." Shepard lifted an eyebrow at him to make sure he got her meaning.
"Aw, hey, now, Lola! Ain't no party like a James Vega party."
"You wouldn't trash my new apartment, now, would you, James?"
"Me? No. Never." He tried for an innocent face and failed completely.
Shepard rolled her eyes.
James had wandered over to the window and was standing there watching the skycars go by. Since that was becoming a favorite occupation of Shepard's, as well, she joined him there.
"Nice view," he remarked, "but … well, no offense, Lola, but this just isn't what I'm used to."
"What are you used to?" They had talked a bit on Earth, and since, but Vega was never forthcoming with personal details.
There was a faraway look on his face as he answered, his eyes still on the speeding skycars. "I grew up on the beach on the Pacific. So, you know: water, sand … real air."
"I dimly recall. Do you miss it?"
He looked at her like she was crazy. Maybe she was, where this kind of thing was concerned. "Yeah. And the people …"
"Someone special?"
"What? No. I stopped … fraternizing when I joined the military. The two don't seem to go well together." He seemed to suddenly realize who he was talking to. "Sorry, Commander."
"No. Don't be. You aren't wrong." She thought with sorrow of Thane and all the time they had lost while she chased around the galaxy on other people's errands. "There's a special challenge to relationships in the military—either the other person is out of the service, and can't truly understand what your life is like, or they're in it, and it's damned near impossible to find time to be together."
"Yeah. I guess so. You and Kaidan seem to be making it work, though. If you don't mind my saying so."
"So far." Shepard nodded. "One day at a time; it's the only way to be. So did you really come up here to talk about our personal lives? I mean, it's all right if you did, but it sounded like you had something else on your mind."
"Oh. Yeah. Right. I wanted to show you …" He reached for the hem of his shirt, stripping it off before Shepard fully realized what he was doing. Anyone else, and she would have protested the illusion of intimacy that came from taking off your clothes in the presence of a senior officer, but Vega so clearly wasn't here for that she barely thought twice about it.
He turned around, and she saw the N7 inked in the center of his upper back. So he had done it. A bit garish for her taste, but she understood what it symbolized to him, and how far he had come to accept the designation and have it permanently marked on himself.
"What do you think?" he asked over his shoulder.
"It looks good—and you've earned it. Now the real work begins, right?"
"Exactly. And I heard what you said before, and I'm in. Cien por ciento."
"Glad to hear it."
He reached for his shirt, tugging it back on. "Anyway, that's it. Just wanted to show you that bad boy. Gotta get back to the Normandy. Esteban wants my help working on the shuttle."
She held out a hand for him to shake. "Thanks for coming by, James."
Vega took her hand, turning the handshake into some kind of complicated routine. "Thank you for … for everything, Lola. I won't let you down."
"Don't let yourself down, and you'll suit me just fine."
He cleared his throat, disengaging from the handshake. "This is gonna be a perfect place for a fiesta."
Shepard winced. "Probably."
Vega laughed. "I'm sure Wrex will be on his best behavior."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
On his way out, he stopped again, looking down the hall at the first floor bedroom—and all the exercise equipment it held. "Oh, shit, Lola. Please, can I come here for all my workouts?"
"And neglect that great setup in the shuttle bay?"
"Aw, you get to do this all the time! Let me have some fun, Commander." He was already working the punching bag. Over his shoulder, he challenged, "You gonna watch, or you gonna join in?"
Shepard eyed the pull-up bar. It was tempting, but she wasn't sure she wanted to stoop to some kind of competition of body-building with James. He took it much more seriously than she did, and she equally didn't want to show him up … and didn't want to be shown up by him.
To her relief, the door buzzed. It was Kaidan, on his way up.
"Sorry, James. Time to go. Besides, isn't Cortez expecting you on the Normandy?"
A guilty expression crossed his face. "Oh, shit, yeah. Hasta la vista, Lola!"