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Shepard woke the next morning to the sound of Kaidan singing in the shower. He had a nice voice, she thought, relaxing back into the pillows to listen.
Out of habit, she reached for her omni-tool and called up her email. She'd been trying to resist that impulse as much as possible, but staying on top of all the details was so ingrained in her it was hard not to.
She was frowning at today's batch of mail when Kaidan emerged from the shower, water still sparkling in his black hair. "Bad news?" he asked.
"So much for shore leave," Shepard answered. "The Normandy's repairs have been completed, and she's ready to go whenever we are." Closing the omni-tool, she sat up, drawing up her knees and resting her elbows on them. "The galaxy, the war, and the Reapers await."
"Just when we were having fun." Kaidan sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at her seriously. "You were having fun, right?"
"With you? Definitely. With the others? Absolutely. I've never had time to just spend with friends before—I liked it. But … having nothing to do? Having to organize my own time rather than being called to whatever problem needs my attention? That was taking some getting used to."
"You work too hard, Juniper."
"I probably do," she admitted. "But I've had the work to do—I've had to get used to the pace. It's what I know."
"So, no retirement for you." Kaidan sounded unhappy about the prospect.
Shepard smiled at him. "Maybe let's end the war before we start worrying about that. Take some more shore leaves without the clock ticking and the Reapers getting closer with every minute we spend docked. Give me a chance to see what life is like without imminent doom hanging over our shoulders all the time."
Kaidan smiled back. "Fair enough. For what it's worth—this, with you? Pretty much my dream. Cooking for you, making love with you, the whole nine yards. When this is over, Shepard …"
She held up a hand to stop the flow of his words. Whatever plans for the future he wanted to make, she wasn't ready for them. Not yet. "Talk to me then."
"It's a date."
As Kaidan got up and started getting dressed, Shepard tried to work up the will to email all her crew and tell them they had to go back to work. They would go, and without complaining—all of them knew what was at stake, and how vital the work they were doing was—but she felt badly cutting short their time off.
"You know what," she said abruptly, calling the omni-tool up again, "I think I will throw that party."
"Oh, yeah? Sounds great! Who are you inviting?"
"Everyone. Well, almost. Samara's already left the Citadel, and honestly, I can't imagine why I'd want to party with Jacob. That guy's the soggiest wet blanket I've ever met." She was typing as she spoke, a group email letting everyone know the refits were done and it was time to go back to work, but that they were going to have the party to end all parties before they left the Citadel.
Not that Shepard knew the first thing about throwing a party. So she looked up at Kaidan with what she hoped was a suitably pleading expression. "You'll help me plan, right?"
He grinned. "I've got the food; you take care of the entertainment."
"I've invited all our friends, what else do I need?"
"Music. Lots of it. Cards for that poker table downstairs. Maybe some party games?" He looked at Shepard while he buttoned up his shirt. "Maybe skip the party games. Could be dangerous with this crew."
"Good point."
"All right, then, I'm going to start getting the food planned. Tomorrow night, did you say?"
"Yes. That should give everyone time to wrap up their shore leaves, then we'll party, then we'll head out."
"Where to first? No, you know, never mind. Day after tomorrow is soon enough for the work talk. I'll find out then." And he was off, whistling merrily.
Shepard finally climbed out of bed and started getting dressed herself, thinking that very question over. So much to do; the Reapers were closing in almost everywhere. She needed to check in with Hackett on the progress of the Crucible, see what else they needed. The Catalyst, for one thing, although as far as she was aware they still didn't know what that was.
But no. The first thing she needed was the Reaper-killer. Leviathan. He was out there somewhere, he had killed a Reaper before. She needed him on their side.
With that in mind, she called Ann Bryson, making sure the doctor had recovered from her ordeal letting Leviathan get into her head so they could track him, and inviting her do the party. Vega was a good guy, if surprisingly shy when it came to women, and he could use a nudge, she thought.
Then she checked in with the docks, made sure that the Normandy would be supplied and fueled and ready the day after tomorrow, called the apartment building office to make sure the apartment would be cleaned and cared for while they were gone, and sent an email to Hackett, letting him know the Normandy was about to be back in play and requesting an update.
Once those were done, she walked out of the bedroom and stood on the balcony, looking out over the apartment. She had enjoyed this time here; while this wasn't the place she would have chosen if she were looking for somewhere, she was grateful to Anderson for letting her use it, and she would be happy knowing it was available to come back to while she was flying around trying to save the galaxy.
For the moment, she enjoyed the space, the solitude, and the silence, three things that were hard to come by on the Normandy.