James

Dios mío, muchas gracias. No creo que hubiera podido hacer esto mucho más tiempo.

James hefted Ídola off her feet and spun her around, ignoring her choked gasp and mosquito-bite-like slaps to his back. He laughed, loud and full of relief, right into her ear before kissing her temple and setting her back on her feet. Holding her at arm's length, he looked her over, dumbfounded by the sheer amount of weight suddenly lifting off his shoulders. Mierda, his eyes actually stung with the threat of tears he was so damn happy to have the commander back.

She smiled when he met her gaze again, but he still saw the el dolor and confusion in her pretty, violeta eyes. Patting his hand on her arm, she smiled a little wider. "You alright, there, Vega? You kind of look like you just saw a ghost." Despite the teasing quality of her tone, her eyes told another story completely. The commander wasn't back, not really … at least not all the way.

Never sure how to handle serious situations, he defaulted back to flirtatious humor. Waggling his eyebrows, he gave her a little squeeze before letting her go. "Hottest ghost I've ever seen."

Scars chuffed, and James looked at him, the utter joy in the turian's eyes almost as hard to look at as the pain in Ídola's. Glancing over her shoulder at her boyfriend, she turned and moved back to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and leaning against him. Scars hummed, draping his arm over her shoulder and bumped his head against hers.

James rubbed the back of his neck, taking in the body language of the other two and coming to the conclusion they'd already consummated their reunion. Maybe more than once.

Bien, ustedes dos están destinados a estar juntos.

"I, uh," he cleared his throat, shaking his head, "I should call Dr. Chakwas. Unless, I mean, you wanted to do it?"

She shrugged, still clinging to Scars as if her existence depended on his presence. "Have at it, Lieutenant. Might as well call Anderson while you're at it, too, because one way or another, I'm walking out of this place by the end of the week, and I'm not looking back."

James smiled, a little more weight sloughing off his shoulders. "You got it, Commander."

Sitting on the edge of his seat, fingers laced, and elbows resting on his knees, James listened intently as Ídola pled her case to Councilor Anderson and Dr. Chakwas. He fought like hell to keep his legs from bouncing, every muscle in his body felt strained and on edge, ready to jump into action. He never used to be so … nervioso, but the time spent acting as Ídola's caretaker brought all sorts of new traits to the surface. Like being exhausted all the damn time, no matter how much sleep he did or didn't get on any given night.

Being responsible for the woman who held the fate of the galaxy in the palms of her tiny hands, had become the most powerful human biotic—hell, maybe the most powerful biotic, period—damned near overnight, and basically spent the last couple of months with a hair trigger temper and an extremely loose hold on reality … Dios, he was lucky to still be alive.

Yeah, he was more than ready to be relieved of duty. But only if Ídola was really able to look after herself again. He couldn't bear it if he'd pushed for them to let her go, because he was worn down and desperate to unburden himself, only for her to get back out there and breakdown in the middle of a fight. For her to take a bullet because he was impaciente. They were counting on him to give a fair and honest report of her status, but how could he even be sure what was going on inside that head of hers?

Scars seemed pretty sure, though. And hey, he knew her better than anyone, right? Why should James doubt Scar's word that Ídola was back in control?

Porque el hombre está enamorado de ella, y el amor vuelve estúpidos a los hombres.

Speaking of, the turian looked a little high strung himself. James thought Scars might actually end up taking a swing at the councilor if Anderson didn't listen to reason. Of course, if he did, it would be James' deber de servicio to intervene and protect Anderson, and that would surely make things incómodo. He wondered which way Ídola would be pulled if something like that ever happened.

"James?" The slight edge to her voice told him it wasn't the first time Ídola called his name.

He blinked, cursing himself for letting his mind wander. "Yeah, Commander?"

Corner of her lip twitching, she shifted her weight and stood at parade rest. "Did you even hear a word I said?"

"Uh …." Reaching behind him he rubbed his neck.

She scoffed, but humor danced in her eyes. "Will you be more comfortable giving Anderson your report if I go in the other room?" Her gaze flicked to Scars and back again. "I'll even drag Garrus in there with me, if you want."

Scars chuffed and scratched a mandible. "We could go down to the visitor's cafeteria and grab something to eat while the rest of you talk."

Anderson sighed and took a seat on the couch opposite of James. "Go on. Take the guards with you."

"I'm sorry, but I simply can't say that I believe she's ready to leave The Pearson Sisters' Sanctuary." Dr. Chakwas shook her head and stopped pacing long enough to cross her arms over her chest and look down at James and Anderson. "I do believe that it is our Shepard who is in control, but for how long?"

"I agree." Anderson sat back against the cushions and rested an ankle on the opposite knee. "It's just too soon to tell how stable she really is. She's not going to like it, but this is the best place for her for the time being."

Something inside of James broke, just a small, hairline fracture, but it broke. He nodded and then rubbed his forehead. "She gave you until the end of the week."

"What do you mean?" Dr. Chakwas asked, returning to her chair.

Anderson grunted. "He means she's planning on leaving here whether I give the greenlight or not. If I don't give her the go ahead by the end of the week, she'll do whatever she has to in order to get back out there and prepare for the reapers."

Huffing Dr. Chakwas rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air. "Stubborn fool. I suppose I can keep her sedated …."

"No." Anderson sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "She's making progress, sedating her might halt that progress."

"I suppose you're right." Tapping her fingers against the arm of the chair, Dr. Chakwas pursed her lips. "In fact, you're most likely right. The progress she has made seems to depend significantly on her being aware, interacting with people, and engaging with the world around her." She sighed. "Well, what do you suggest?"

"Convince her to stay as long as we can, and when we can't any longer …." Anderson glanced at James.

"We get the hell out of her way," James said, finishing the councilor's thought.

"Precisely." Anderson nodded.

"¡Hola, Bonita Gatita!" Just seeing the mujer pequeña on his omni-tool's screen made James' heart ache to hold her in his arms and taste her sweet lips. As much as he liked to flirt and screw around when the chance arose, he never really considered himself the 'falling in love' type. His life was with the Alliance, a marine through and through. But then, the sexy ass thief stole his heart.

"James," she said with a purr, glancing around before pushing her hood back and letting him take in her honey-brown eyes. The purple stripe trailing over her lower lip and down her chin almost seemed to lighten with her smile. "How are you? How's Shepard?"

"That's why I'm calling, actually. Ídola's back. At least for now." He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "And she's not planning on sticking around here much longer."

Eyes brightening, his Bonita Gatita sat up a little straighter. "That's fantastic!"

"Well … maybe." He shrugged when she furrowed her brow. "Anderson and Dr. Chakwas aren't ready to let her leave, but she said one way or another she was walking out of here by the end of the week."

"Hmmm. Tell her Kasumi said if she needs a jail break that doesn't involve a ton of bloodshed, I am a master thief." She let out a soft chuckle and flicked a wrist. "She wouldn't even be the first person I've stolen."

James laughed and shook his head. "I think that's called kidnapping."

"I prefer to call it liberation," she said with a wink. A moment later she sighed. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too, Gatita." He smiled, not the sort of bawdy smile he might normally use with a woman who said something like that to him but something softer, genuine, from el corazón. "We'll see each other soon. Where Ídola goes, I go, and I know we'll both want you fighting alongside us." He thought about it for a second, remembering how scared she was to go back down to the hangar after the attack on the Normandy left her with a chunk of metal pinning her to the wall. "But only if you're really ready to get back out there, yeah?"

She pulled her hood back up and smirked. "I'm ready. I better get back to work, this whole diplomatic thing isn't going to take care of itself, and our new Shadow Broker is expecting results."

"Alright, call me when you get a chance." He knew that might not be for a day or two, but she'd reach out when it was safe for her to do so.

"Of course!" She blew him a kiss, and then the screen went dark.

He closed his omni-tool with a sigh and made his way out to the living room. Scars and Ídola sat at the breakfast bar, turned toward one another, knees touching as they leaned against the edge of the bar. They stopped talking when he made his way over, both looking at him with amusement in their eyes.

"What's so funny?" he asked, rounding the breakfast bar and opening the refrigerator.

"Nothing at all, Beautiful Kitten," Scars deadpanned, and Ídola snorted.

James watched Ídola out of the corner of his eye. He didn't exactly consider himself an empático or anything like that, but it didn't take one to feel the tension rolling off of her, crackling and snapping in the air around her. She stood staring out the window, biotics suddenly roaring to life to dance and lick across her skin before disappearing once more, her jaw clenching and releasing. Not even Scars seemed to want to get too close to her, and he'd barely left her side since she came back to them the day before.

She'd tried contacting Thane, but she couldn't get through to him, and he never called back. Between that and Anderson refusing to let her walk out of the hospital without a fight—as far as she knew—she was a tightly wound ball of stress. She seemed to be trying to keep it under wraps, but her track record since Joker died … well, James fully expected things to go sideways and get ugly. He needed to find a way to distract her, make her feel productive.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he cleared his throat. "Hey, Ídola?"

She turned a little at the waist, glancing over her shoulder at him. "Yeah?"

"I was wondering … uh … what's our first move? Plan of attack?" He moved a little closer to her, crossing his arms over his chest. "You know, when you're cleared to leave."

She glanced down at the floor a moment and then turned to face him completely, tucking her hands behind her back as she fell into parade rest. "We build our team back up and keep preparing for the arrival. There really isn't much else we can do against an enemy in dark space until they show up here. They'll be here soon, though, a few months at most. So, we make damn sure there isn't a single person with power left in the galaxy who doesn't believe the threat is real."

Turning her attention to Scars as he stood, she took a deep breath and continued, "We push to have troops stationed in strategic locations to give us the best advantage and to protect civilians." She looked at James again. "We prepare the Citadel and other space stations to take in refugees—they'll hit highly populated planets and homeworlds first. Earth and Palaven usually get overrun fairly quickly. We need to stockpile medications, ammunition, food, clean water … everything we can. Everything our people will need to survive a war under siege. The reapers will try to limit interstellar movements. They'll destroy fueling stations, comm buoys, attack ships they come across. They don't want us working together. They want to keep us separated so they can pick us off bit by bit."

"Which is why you've been pushing so hard to get everyone to work together." James nodded, closing the distance between the two of them to stand in front of her.

Scars moved around the table, taking up station at her side, arms loose over his abdomen. "Exactly. She's made sure when the time comes, the krogan will be willing to work with the turians, salarians and quarians will have created new, more powerful tech, the batarians will still have strong enough numbers to fight …."

"And with Miranda taking over Cerberus, it should mean we don't have to fight against them the whole time, too." She looked up at Scars as she spoke, a soft, sad smile lifting the corners of her mouth. "But we will have to fight against our own people, either way. Who knows how many people out there are already indoctrinated? The Dissension was all new to me, and their numbers scare the shit out of me."

A soft, rumbling purr emanated from Scars as he reached over and brushed the hair out of her face. "We know it won't be easy, but you're here with us now. We'll win this thing, Shepard. And we'll find a way to do it that keeps you safe."

She didn't seem all too convinced, but James knew it wasn't what she really cared about, anyway.

"Hey," he said, waiting for her to meet his gaze before saying, "you're not going to lose anyone else to this war, Ídola. We'll make sure of it, yeah?"

Tears welled up in her eyes. "Yeah." She turned away from him, looking back out the window once more.