"Shepard?"

"Not now, Kaidan," she muttered, brushing passed him on her march from the bridge. She was attempting to trudge up to her cabin without having to explain how her most recent, and potentially last, visit to Omega had gone. But then there was Kaidan who, while having the best of interests at heart, always had a way of sticking his nose where it didn't belong at the most inopportune times.

Sure enough, Shepard felt a gentle but firm grip on her upper arm tugging her backward. "Oh no you don't. What happened?"

"If I wanted to tell you, I would." Ouch. She regretted the sting the second it left her lips. "Sorry. Just - you know how it is on that frozen hunk of shit. I'm on my last nerve."

"...Aria T'Loak just patched a call to the Normandy a few minutes ago."

Ah. "Did she now."

"Said she needed to speak with you the second you got back. To not take off until you'd seen her."

"I've already seen her." Shepard didn't bother to censure her grumbling thoughts. What the hell could she possibly want now?

Toiling over his next words, Alenko put on a brave smile, all things considered. "You don't have to return the call, you know. We could always fight our way out of the Terminus Systems and say 'sayonara, suckers.'"

She allowed herself a small, chastising smirk. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Sure. I'd never have to wipe the grime from that place off my boots again. But... I know better. You need to make that call for whatever reason. And, Shepard," he continued in hushed tones. "I'm no expert on crying asari, but I'm pretty sure this particular one should have splashed some water on her eyes before placing a vid call. Talk to her."

Aria T'Loak? Crying? Over a live feed? No, she was too smart for that, knew the line had the potential to be tapped... "I'll be in my cabin," she resigned, turning on her heel and marching deeper into the ship. "No visitors unless I give the go ahead, alright?"

"I'll tell EDI," Alenko called after her.

"No need, Major," the ship's AI sounded over the intercom, never missing a beat.

"Oh. Right."

"Get back here."

"Miss me that much already? And here I thought you told me to get lost."

"Quit the bull, Shepard. Get your ass back here. Now."

"I told you." Her voice dropped, letting the haughtiness falter long enough to get her point across. "No."

"I won't jump your bones. I just need to - fucking look at me, Shepard!" The commander's dark mane bounced as her head bobbed up, startled at the break in Aria's voice. "Don't make me lose my shit on a call. This isn't like me; if you haven't noticed, I'm acting like a bitch in her first heat and I shouldn't, I can't, not now, not after-"

"You really have been crying." The thought was more alien to her than the projected purple face before her. She couldn't help the sigh of defeat as it rasped its way from her chest. "Alright." Jabbing her finger into the sleek surface of her desk, Shepard emphasized her unwillingness to debate her conditions. "But this time, you come here. I think it'd do you good to get away for a few hours."

Aria didn't move, but contemplation was etched in her every feature. "I can't leave the station."

"We won't," she acquiesced. "Just think of it as a change of scenery."

A static huff poured out of her terminal's speakers. "I'll be there in ten minutes." The video feed cut as her screen faded to black.

Shepard glanced over at the clock on her desk. Ten minutes didn't allow for much time, but there was something she had to do before Aria stepped one foot on her ship. Collecting her heavy black zip-up for the chill that quaked down the flesh of her arms, she shoved her fists in the sleeves as she made her way toward the main battery.

Unseen eyes took in the brisk stride of the owner of the nightclub as she made her way to where her private caravan awaited nearby. Interest piqued, the lurker saw this as a stroke of luck. Commander Shepard would have made it back to where the Normandy was docked by now, if that was in fact where she'd gone after zooming from the establishment. He immediately regretted not putting cameras at the dock housing the SR-2.

Recalling Shepard stalking from the club, her gait had suggested a haste that said 'I've got to put as much distance between me and something or someone' - Aria T'Loak perhaps, whom she'd come with not even a half an hour before? - 'as possible.' But where the Commander seemed to be walking away, T'Loak seemed eager, intent upon reaching a destination. Perhaps the two hadn't wanted to be seen leaving the club together; who knows, maybe they'd had a feud and Aria was only just now taking off after her associate. Either way, if she was heading to the Normandy after Shepard, that would leave a wide enough gap for him to do his work. If not, it might mean a potentially excruciating death depending on the lengths she was willing to go to so as to punish her trespasser. Knowing her reputation for zero tolerance, she'd be the first to send him back to his employers one piece at a time. But that was exactly what his boss valued in him, and he knew it. This was a chance that, according to the mission parameters, he would have to take.

Patching into the omni-tool at his side, lips that barely moved called out to his superiors. "A window of opportunity has just presented itself. Taking it; going radio silent until further notice." With that, he sauntered up to Afterlife's coveted secret entrance, one sure footfall at a time.

"Can't you make this thing go any faster?" Aria demanded of her escort.

Bray's top set of eyes zoned in on her reflection in the rearview mirror unapologetically, the larger bottom two staying focused on the airway. "We'll be there in under a minute." His voice was flat, droning. She found herself grateful that he wasn't trying to lull her, no matter how tiny the deed; in Aria's state of mind, she highly doubted she could have tolerated anything but straightforwardness from him. It was a shame. She'd come to think highly of him after how well he'd handled his share of the resurgence efforts.

True to his word, Dock 1073 came into view within the span of a handful of heartbeats with the Normandy stationed safely within the confines of Omega's mass effect field generator. The field of artificial gravity, casting a red-hued glow over the magnificent craft hubbed via airlock, kept the vehicles and the travelers they contained that docked at all of Omega's thousands of ports from floating off into deep space. While the ports were mainly divided up into gang-controlled portions that charged their users a renter's fee, Aria kept a certain amount of them - some in all sizes and varying locations, including the one she now glared at through her tinted windows - strictly under her namesake. It was a nice set-up: the mercs kept the turf regulated and protected while, ultimately, still answering to her. One toe out of line, and those meatheads would find out how unpleasant crossing her could make their lives. It was the number one rule of Omega: Aria does not get burned. Anyone who thought they were above that rule learned quickly enough. Anyone smart enough to adhere to it enjoyed the prospect of reaping whatever fruits they sought out in the lawless capital of the similarly insurgent Terminus Systems. It was that simple, and she had enjoyed that simplicity for the better part of a millennia.

Why then did it now seem to be falling apart around her?

Sure, she mused as she climbed the catwalk leading up to the hull's decontamination partition. She'd gotten Omega back after all. But even that hadn't been her victory alone. Shepard had seen to it that Omega fell back into her grasp. Shepard and...

No. She couldn't let herself drift back there again, not when regaining her peace of mind hindered so vitally on the next few things she chose to spew to Shepard.

As she finally lurched through the airlock door, Aria hurried past what appeared to be the bridge, trying desperately not to marvel at the impressive human-turian engineering she was now standing on. But she didn't have far to go; Shepard was walking in her direction, with-

...a set of mandibles flanking her side.

"Shepard," Aria greeted accusingly. Squinting her eyes in his direction, she murmured, "Archangel," under her breath.

"I don't believe we've had the pleasure," he shot back at her. Though, to his credit, he didn't try to extend a handshake or any of that pretentious bullshit. Not bad for ex-C-sec, she begrudgingly noted.

"Shall we?" The commander offered, sensing Aria had nothing to offer to the turian's statement.

Oh, but she was wrong there. "See you around," she mumbled, practiced coolness oozing with the sentiment. She distinctly thought she heard Shepard sigh in front of her, but she couldn't be sure.

"Spill."

Shepard, you can be such a priss when you want to be. "I need a mental health talk, one on one. And no, I do not make that request lightly."

"Too bad we don't have Kelly Chambers anymore. I'd be more than willing to send you over to her for a psych eval. You'd be like a present under the Christmas tree, bow and all."

Aria refused to give her the satisfaction of an eye-roll. "And before we get into that shit, what the fuck were you thinking, walking up with Vakarian? Did you want me to know you'd run right over to him to tattle on me for kissing his girlfriend?"

"Yes."

This time, she couldn't help it. The oceanic liquid of her pupils slid skyward at Shepard's blunt honesty. "You can't help but make me feel like the little kid who should've known better, can you?"

"But you did know better," she reprimanded. "I wanted him to know what took place down on that asteroid. It's sort of his business, you know. Besides," and now Shepard proved she could be as cruel as she could be kind. Her features contorted in a mirrored expression of what hers must've been when she'd banished Shepard from the lounge, her voice even taking on the same low, steady deliverance. "You were just trying to shack up for some rough mourning sex, right?"

Oh God. That hurt more than it should've.

You fucking bitch.

You little fucking bitch.

How could-

Oh, right. She'd done it to her not even an hour ago.

The grimace faded from the pale, hardened human's features, replaced with a serene calm Aria hadn't expected. "You had to know that I wasn't going to put up with that again if you came up here," she said evenly.

"...then you have nothing to fear," the asari bitterly, ever-so-quietly retorted. "I wouldn't try to hop your cock again if you were the last woman alive. I think I might actually prefer a male to your ass."

Shepard closed her eyes and, turning to take a seat on her settee, inflated her chest in, what, relief? Aria couldn't be sure. "So, your mental health," she instigated, offering Aria the same courtesy with a sweep of her powerful mitt. "I was beginning to worry that your stubbornness would win over your malaise."

"Malaise? Is that what you call it?"

The human merely shrugged. "I could call you a power-hungry psychopath who's coming down from the high of taking back what she thinks is hers-"

"Knows is hers," she corrected thoughtfully. "Is that what you told Vakarian?"

"No."

After waiting long enough to know she wasn't going to elaborate, she prodded. "What exactly did you tell him?"

"I told him I'd shot the shit for a while, sat back and watched you show off, then followed you home for some shots - which had been my mistake," she added.

"Are you trying to be nice?"

"Nope."

Aria closed her eyes. "Are you trying to irritate me?" she clarified.

Shepard's stone features faltered, if only just. "Just a bit."

"Why did you even bother? He'd have found out eventually. People always do," she wondered aloud.

"Sometimes the way a person finds out matters," was the logical, aggravating reply that came. "And, if you must know, I needed to find out if being with 'the chick that decked Aria T'Loak and made enemies with the other half of the galaxy' was incentive enough for him to leave me. Every once in a while, it's a good idea to get a feel of what constitutes as a potential deal breaker."

"What makes you think that I wouldn't kill you if you tried?"

Shepard's eyes flickered expectantly. "Be my guest."

The asari shifted in her seat. The action wasn't so much one of unease as it was displeasure. "If I were in better spirits, I just might have taken you up on such a satisfying offer."

Green globes slowly turned to focus on a far wall of her cabin. Aria recognized the far away look, the distance those eyes were crossing without ever moving.

"You loved her."

But what she didn't know was what to do with that.

Had she? They'd shared more than just a bed at one time, shared a purpose. Each belonged to the other. Each had gotten angry that night, throwing threats back and forth across the room until Nyreen had finally stowed her things in a rucksack and taken off, presumably off the station and as far away from the steaming crime lord as possible. Sure, she'd missed her. Sent out feelers to stay hot on her trail, keep an eye on her. But in the end she'd been chasing the ghost of a trail; she'd been right under Aria's nose the entire time. She'd felt a pang of sadness at her departure, but loss wasn't something new in her experiences. Not even a year ago, she'd lost her own flesh and blood. Unlike then, there was no body to bury; Nyreen was just... gone. And, stranger still, Aria had never set out to find a replacement for her like she had for all the rest. Tevos, the casual sex; Jacea, the wolf in sheep's clothing; Reigan, the pale, disheveled beauty from her earlier recollection. And those were just the memorable ones. So many times, and yet they were all preceded by another - someone whom she'd grow less attached to, someone who she could romp around with and then send on their way, someone who was just the opposite of the wanton turian who'd left such a sweet, lingering taste on her palate. But did that mean she'd loved her?

"Maybe," Aria finally acquiesced. "It'd offer more insight as to why I'm acting so... erratically."

"My advice? Entertain the notion." Pushing off of her knees, Shepard slid over to a hidden cooler off her couch's edge. "But here I am, forgetting my manners when you came over for a heart-to-heart. Want to dip into Liara's mead stash?"

She admitted, the though of something that would douse the burning already scratching at her throat did sound appealing. "Sure. I'll send a bottle over later, compliments to the Shadow Broker."

Looking over at the clock on her end table, Shepard was surprised to see only an hour had passed since cracking open their first bottle. Aria's shoulders were cradled in her arms, letting the heaves jerk her slight frame for as long as she needed. Once the dam had broken - not without provocation - she'd allowed a much different Aria than the one Shepard had known to claw her way through, taking a much-needed breath for the first time in she didn't know how long. Shepard idly wondered if she'd ever let Nyreen see her like this, so exposed and subject to her own circumstances. Dismally, she doubted it.

Minutes passed with the grieving woman in her embrace, until finally she stilled and reclined into the back of the couch, eyeing Shepard with a wet, unfocused gaze. Shepard withdrew her arms, and Aria pulled out of her trance enough to form a coherent thought. "If you tell anyone, I'll kill you."

"Okay," she assured her. "I'll just tell everyone I decked you."

She was rewarded with a strangled chuckle. Another few minutes passed in a comfortable silence, Shepard patiently waiting for her to speak up first.

"Thanks."

It was still surprising to see Aria so... well, Shepard would have said human.

"Anytime. I mean that."

Aria lifted her eyes to lose herself in the fields of green gazing back at her. "You don't play fair, you know. You offer yourself without making it possible for me to properly thank you."

Then the horizon shifted as Shepard's eyes rolled in their sockets. "Have you ever stopped to think that your definition of 'proper' may differ from mine?"

"What, then? What can someone like me, in my position, do for the great Commander Shepard? I've already given you my men, my not-so-subtle offer for something a bit more gratifying. What can I do?"

She looked almost offended when Shepard laughed at her fussing. "You really haven't done this in a while, have you?"

"And that would be?"

"Not everyone in this galaxy sees things as one big power play. Some of us actually value friendship and the perks of having a shoulder to lean on when you need one."

Aria's mouth popped open as if she wanted to retort, but then snapped her jaw shut, thinking better of it. Shepard could almost see the wheels turning in her head and felt another stab of sadness at her predicament; without her friends and crew, Shepard knew she never could have accomplished all that she had. She'd have lost her mind ages ago. How then could someone so paranoid of personal connections delving deeper than business associates or the fleeting hook up reason friendship, let alone form a relationship? Aria hadn't yet admitted it, might not have even considered it before she'd brought it up, but Shepard recognized the symptoms when saw them: in her own way, Aria had loved Nyreen.

"I can't afford friends," Aria muttered at last. "In my line of work, they only prove to be a liability."

Shepard made a show of looking wounded. "Are you saying that I, the great Commander Shepard, can't handle myself if one of your deals goes sour and the dumbass decides to try his hand at me?" she scoffed, using her own words against her.

The asari shot her a look, but didn't comment, contenting herself instead with worrying on the inside of her cheek. "You don't exactly need more enemies," she finally reasoned.

"Why don't you actually get yourself and your - uh - regime," she put delicately, "back on its feet. Then we'll feel our way through the details. I'm not inviting you over for a slumber party or anything; I'm just saying you can consider me a friend."

"Is this what friends do? Annoy each other?"

"Lesson number one: real friendship, not the hoity-toity, kiss-ass version, is feeling comfortable enough to joke, tease, prod, what have you, but amicably. It's all comfortable and in good spirits, and generally reciprocated. There's no second-guessing each other's motives, nothing to loose or gain. It's just good-natured banter."

"Sounds pointless."

Shepard turned to face the dismissive gaze being directed at her. "It's kept me sane during some pretty dark times."

"And you think I need a friend to help see me through this 'dark time' I'm having?"

The commander rolled her shoulders. "What else would you call it, exactly?"

Aria stood, looking disappointed at the prospect. "I hate admitting when people are right, so I'll be going. I've got some... thinking to do."

Shepard made to follow. "You'll reflect better on a full stomach. C'mon."

"Thinking of taking me to dinner now? I'm flattered and all but-"

"You're eating before you step foot off my ship. It's not up for discussion."

The woman beside her didn't budge as the lift doors swung back. A staring contest ensued, with the asari backing down only enough to slip onto the platform. Shepard mirrored her sidestep, deftly palming the button to Crew Deck.

"Let me guess. This is you trying to help me."

The skeptical look on her companion's face made her chortle. "Sure. Just call it tough love."

Aria's askance bore at Shepard until the elevator came to a stop and opened to reveal Deck 3, who then strode from the lift and made for her direct right. There was a pause behind her, probably Aria gauging what her chances were of finding her way back off the ship on her own. Shepard made it as far as the small counter of the mess hall before she heard another pipe trailing in her wake.

"...uh. Shepard?"

"Grab a seat," she called, continuing to the frig as if it were normal for a merc kingpin to just waltz into the Normandy's currently occupied dining hall. On her way in, she'd seen just about every member of her squad, plus a few of the noncombatant crew members, seated at the cluttered tables. As much as she wished she could claim the rather hilarious situation she'd just put her cohort in as reason enough for her actions, there was the undeniable truth that Aria needed this - needed to be surrounded by people that were trustworthy, loyal, good. They had always been Shepard's safety net, there to catch her in the worst of situations both on and off the battlefront. When no one continued to make a sound, she turned to see all eyes in the room either on herself or her guest, who was stock still and rooted to the spot. Shepard almost couldn't help but laugh at the obvious discomfort on Aria's face, unsure of how to proceed. Almost.

Two trays of leftovers in hand, she headed for the only empty seats at the far end of the space directly opposite one another. Shepard plopped her plate down, sliding the second to the seat across from her. Slowly, the asari ambled over to the empty chair and, averting her gaze from any and everyone, including the commander, began to pick at the food before her. When the silence had grown deafening, Shepard opted to prattle with Liara.

"Any news about Kai Leng?"

Shiftily stealing a peak to her left at her fellow asari, Liara shook her head. "No. Petrovsky's information, while continuing to prove useful, hasn't given us any direct leverage with finding Leng."

"Any leads?"

"That's the trouble: he could be anywhere, call home to any or none of Cerberus' bases. The Alliance is sending strike-forces to four more of what Petrovksy claims to be key Cerberus facilities, but there's no guarantee he'll on board. He's like a ghost."

"A ghost who murdered Thane."

Startling blue pools fell, Liara's forehead scrunching in empathy. "Shepard, I... I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Shepard replied quietly, holding up her forkful. "All we can do is keep looking. Burn down enough belfries, eventually you'll spook the bat out."

"I heard about the drell. Exactly how many have died under your command, Shepard?"

Shepard locked eyes with Aria, keeping the anguish that pierced her heart at the asari's words from showing on her face. "Too many."

"Thane was not apart of Shepard's crew when-"

"Liara. It's fine," she assured her friend. The two had known each other longer than most on her team, going back before her revival. Those seemed like the good old days to them now, chasing Saren around the galaxy, trying to stop him and Sovereign and trying to convince the Council of his guilt. That was how they'd met Garrus; he'd had enough of the political red tape after conducting his formal investigation of Saren back in his C-Sec days. He'd asked Shepard to join her crew, to do what he couldn't while still bogged down under his position's rules and regulations. So many of her friends, just trying to do the right thing. Some were lucky enough to have made this far. Others, like Thane, Mordin, Legion... they hadn't been so lucky. "Aria's just in the mood to torment."

"You mean I managed? I'm flattered," she smirked. "You pushed my buttons, I thought I'd merely return the favor."

"How kind of you," Shepard droned.

But Liara, it seemed, wasn't finished. "I hear you've lost someone recently as well."

It's a wonder Aria's neck didn't crack with the speed her head jerked toward the Shadow Broker. The pain and angst were etched so deeply in her features, lesser creatures could have withered under her gaze. But not one of Shepard's best of friends. Liara's statement had no malice to it, and her eyes, while sharp, were neutral.

Most in the room jumped in surprise when Aria's voice cracked like a whip through the stale air. "You know, the last Shadow Broker and I never quite saw eye to eye. He'd sent dozens of agents onto my station, into my club. Most didn't even know who their true employer was and I found them all the same. He was good, but I was better."

"And Shepard and I got the better of him," Liara noted.

"Yes, I suppose you did." Aria's food forgotten, she leaned in on her elbows, her gaze flickering past Shepard. "I guess it's a damn good thing you're both fighting the good fight. After all, unless someone does, it'll be thousands of years before some upcoming species has a cause to fight for, good or bad."

"You're awfully well-informed, Aria."

"Though I'm sure not half as much so as you... Liara." Her eyes were now affixed steadily on the younger of the them. "Perhaps once this is all over, if we're lucky, you and I could learn to - oh, I don't know - co-exist. You know. Amicably."

Shepard couldn't keep the grin from her face, though she did her best to chew around it.

"Perhaps I'll take Shepard's lead and give you a fair chance. Since you're both getting along so well."

"They catch on quick around here, don't they?" Aria turned back to her plate and began to attack it voraciously.

"Almost as well as your appetite," Garrus called to her from down the row.

"Eat it up, Vakarian," she muttered around a mouthful. "You know, speaking of eating - for people who are supposed to be on military rations, you sure manage to keep the cuisine up to spec."

Garrus' mandible quivered in a gesture of silent laughter that Shepard had grown to know and love. "That's one of the few things I don't miss about the SR-1. No offense, Shepard, but the food was terrible. Still was until Mess Sergeant Gardner mysteriously got some new ingredients for that - what did he call it? Gumbo?"

"You could eat that?" Shepard chimed in. "But I thought-"

"Oh no, you made sure to get some of both the levo and dextro seafood while you were out grocery shopping. I wasn't the only one who looked cross-eyed at it. At least, I assume Tali was cross-eyed. Either way, she was skeptical."

The rest of the crew slowly began to get in on the conversation, or at least thought it was safe enough to contribute. Though the sidelong glances didn't cease until the pair got up to leave, Aria seemed to almost enjoy herself. A few times she faltered, retreating into her usual flippant mood and aiming a snide remark or two that had more malice than complaisance, but overall she was marginally more jovial than Shepard had ever seen her. It warmed her heart to see such a cold one begin to chip.

She knew she couldn't expect a completely flop in Aria T'Loak, but what she did see shocked the hell out of her. The others had every right to look on in marvel - the situation was, after all, almost impossible to comprehend. If Aria hadn't been ready to break, she would have continued on the desolate path she tred. Sure, she had Omega under her thumb, and that'd probably been enough for the longest time. Not many could boast sole hierarchy to such a prestigious hub of space travel. But one person, even an asari who could live to see a millennia come to pass, needed reprieval.

"It would take you to be the one to do it," Aria muttered as they walked back through the CIC. Word had spread through the ship, whether it be Joker's doing or some of the crew who had joined them for dinner, and not one pair of eyes was looking anywhere but at the two of them.

Shepard stole a quizzical look at her companion. "To what?"

"To domesticate me."

"You call dinner with some friends 'domesticating?'" Shepard chuckled.

Aria paused. "Nyreen was the last person I've shared a meal with," was her soft reply. "I'm very paranoid, Shepard - as you know. I don't trust anyone not to slip me something. I can't count how many times poison's passed through my table, nevermind the entire club."

"Don't I know it. Hey, before you go." They'd paused outside the airlock, and Shepard leaned up against the cool metal as she chose her next words. "Do you remember what you said after you'd turned over Petrovsky?"

"Which part?"

"The part about your 'methods not being popular, the uncertainty of whether that would change, and-'"

"And that my primary concern was securing Omega and its people." She shrugged. "What about it?"

"Were you actually considering changing your ways, or was that for the benefit of the everyone listening?"

Aria turned to face the gangplank, deliberation plain on her face. Shepard silently wondered whether or not she'd earned the truth or not today. "Do you remember what I said?" she began. "That I'd gone soft after walking around with you for a few hours? I meant that." Angling herself to face her once more, Shepard now saw the conviction of her words in those steely blue eyes. "I still want Omega, the nightclub, the kind of lifestyle that would make most cringe. I'm still not above killing my enemies or making life hard for those who oppose me. But... she was so protective of them. Of the people. I want to do more for them, Shepard. I'd say they'd earned it after all this, wouldn't you?"

"If I had to guess, I'd say she'd be pretty happy to hear you say that."

Aria smiled, not unkindly, but grimly. "And it only took her death to make me say it. Fancy that." She punched the decontamination switch, and the air began to hiss as it pressurized on the small platform. "We'll discuss democracy on our next little date."

"Are you saying I should invite you over for more leftovers sometime?"

"Oh no. Next time, it'd better be fresh out of the oven when I get there."