The strong alcohol scalded Shepard's throat so much he thought it might burn a hole in it, but in spite of it and the many other shots he had downed that night, his mind still only swam with a light, heady warmth. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he could not get truly drunk. Both a perk and a detriment of Cerberus's cybernetic meddling with his body, he thought.
He could not keep a grimace from wracking his face at the harsh, bitter heat of his bourbon, and he slammed down the small glass onto the wooden table in front of him with a resounding slam.
"Ha! Another one! No idea how a little thing like you can stomach so much!" Grunt roared to his right, reaching over to thump him roughly on the shoulder in a way which probably would have hurt if not for the buzz he had built up, before upturning the jug of ryncol in his lap to take another few deep gulps.
He gave a lazy smile in response. The young krogan was by far the most enthusiastic of the guests at their little post-victory party. He had shown that same enthusiasm earlier in the day during their final fight against the Collectors. The hulking warrior had gone at the insectoid drones with exceptional ferocity, exhibiting an odd blend of mirthful indulgence and red-hot rage the commander had never quite seen before.
Shepard had sometimes found himself getting caught up in the chaos of the fight, but the way the tank-bred reveled in the carnage of their battle, it seemed like he had never had such fun and never would again.
"Never could've before. Just another little gift from Cerberus, I guess. And may I remind you that this 'little thing' was the one to pull your ass out of that seeker swarm earlier?"
The drunk krogan gave another roar of raucous laughter before he responded with a deep, yet unsteady, bow of his head.
"I'll never forget it Battlemaster, never! And I'll see that the clan sings your praises for a hundred years! I'd say that's worth a joke or two!" he exclaimed with another throaty reptilian chuckle. "Besides, you being such a little thing only makes what you did all the more impressive. You've got the heart of a true krogan!"
"You mean the liver?" he quipped with a smirk.
"That, too!" he roared once more, before bringing the jug back to his maw and drinking greedily from it.
His smirk widened again at Grunt's enthusiasm for the stuff. His blood and his spirits both had been up after the glory of the battle, but once you added alcohol to the mix, he only grew more jovial.
As with most things in his mere months-long life, Grunt had little experience of that which the tank had not told him of, which essentially meant all that was not related to fighting. This included alcohol, but despite this inexperience he had taken to it with a positively prodigious thirst, going through enough jugs of strong brew to kill two dozen humans and probably an average krogan or two.
Shepard leaned back against the couch he was reclining in to survey the festivities going on around him.
He had chosen the cargo bay for the party, due to it being the largest single space on the Normandy. But he had also ordered his crew to keep their merry-making to the lower levels of the ship, out of respect for those among the non-combat crew that were still getting over their harrowing past few days. Being abducted by the Collectors, entombed in sarcophagi of resin and chitin, nearly reduced to genetic paste to aid in the birth of a new Reaper…after an experience like that, a majority of them had not been up to carefree celebration.
Some had, though, as he had extended the invitation in spite of his doubts that they would accept. Shepard had seen Ken and Gabby walk in earlier, along with Doctor Chakwas, Mess Sergeant Gardner, and a good number of the CIC techs.
It had been a few hours since the festivities began, when they had hauled down couches, chairs, and snacks, as well as their stores of alcohol, which were far more considerable than he had thought they would be. As the ship's commanding officer, he always looked over the list of supplies which would need to be purchased, but it was usually only a cursory glance.
The fine details of supply procurement were usually left to his XO.
Seems like Miranda made an optimistic purchase last time we were on the Citadel. Maybe she had higher hopes for our victory than even she had let on. He thought with a smile.
They had all begun in the center of the room in one large group, chatting and cheering and making many toasts, a disproportionate amount of which were directed at him, to his great chagrin. But over time the party guests had split off into their own small groups.
He wondered then where Tali was. It had been about two hours since he had last seen the young quarian, and he was eager to see how far along she was from the slight buzz she had exhibited earlier. He knew from prior experience how much of a lightweight his lover was.
Deciding that Grunt would be of no help, Shepard turned to his left, where Jacob lay slumped on a plush couch, arm thrown over his eyes. Once Grunt had challenged his ability to hold his liquor, Jacob had decided to join the pair, but hadn't gotten nearly as far as he had. He didn't seem to be unconscious from what he could tell, though.
"Taylor?" he asked the former Cerberus agent lightly.
A nauseous groan was his only response.
"Hanging in there?" Shepard asked bemusedly.
"I's with Cerberus fer longer…why couldn't they've giv'n me a cyborg liver?" he whined.
He let out a short bark of laughter at that.
"Trust me, it's not so glamorous as it seems. Now I can't get drunk at all." He responded.
"Lucky…"
"Maybe. I'm sure I'll be grateful for it tomorrow morning when my head's not pounding." He said back. "Hey, you seen Tali anywhere?"
"Wha? No, no…world's spinning, would'n' be able t'see her anyway…" Jacob groaned, turning over on his other side to bury his face in the couch's back cushions.
"Alright, well, I'll leave you to it, then."
Pushing himself to his feet with just a slight lurch to his stomach, he glanced around the party once more to get any sense of Tali's whereabouts.
But above the sounds of conversation and the loud, bass-heavy background music that had been put on over the speakers, there was one sound that stuck out to his ears, prevented him from focusing. A low, rhythmic hum from the corner behind him.
Giving into his curiosity, he began to walk toward its source, situated behind a set of large munitions crates. Peaking his head behind one of them, he realized where it had been coming from.
Thane and Samara sat cross-legged across from each other upon the hard metal floor, hands clasped, eyes closed, drell assassin and asari justicar joined in a state of meditation.
In the space between their arms was suspended a small, pulsating orb of biotic energy, vibrant and beautiful. He was familiar with the technique, as Samara had shown it to him some months ago, and he was therefore aware that it required intense concentration.
He pulled his head back around the corner, and turned to tip-toe away so as not to disturb the pair.
"You need not go, Shepard." Samara called in her quiet, precise voice.
He turned back around to step into their little alcove.
"How'd you know it was me?" he asked her, as he was pretty sure her eyes had not opened.
To his surprise, it was Thane that answered his question.
"All may be identified by their stride if one is attentive enough." He clarified.
Also to his surprise, Samara finished his thought.
"Yours is easier to identify than most. Heavy, authoritative, confident. You do not fret over each step. You know where you wish to go, and you go there."
"Never realized I gave so much away just by how I walked." He mumbled, a little sheepishly and a little uneasily.
He had always thought the two were on a similar wavelength, were of a similar philosophical temperament, but the way they seemed to be in tune with each other's minds just now was rather strange
He supposed it made sense, though. During his session with Samara, he had felt the mild psychic effect that came from meditating with an asari, the soft touch of another's mind at the edges of one's consciousness. For Thane, one clearly accustomed to maintaining such a state, the sensation might be more akin to the mind-meld of a joining, he thought.
"You are not so easy to read to most. But Samara and I are both hunters, though of entirely different kinds. Noticing such small details in our quarry is critical to our professions." The drell explained in his typical low growl.
"There are worse traits to betray with one's stride." Samara assured him. "The determination you exude so openly has served you well, both in the past and in our fight today. This was a great victory."
"It certainly was. Thank you both for your role in winning it. No way I could've done this without you."
The asari's purple lips quirked up into a small smirk.
"All things in moderation, Shepard. Including modesty." She said a little chidingly. "Do not discount the centrality of your role in our victory."
He chuckled lowly.
"Don't worry. Tali never lets me get overly modest or self-critical about what I do anymore. Says it 'devalues me,' and that it's not true, besides." He said with air quotes.
"Your beloved is wise, Shepard. You have done well, and ought to take pride in yourself." Thane concurred.
"That she is. And I am proud, really; proud of all of us." He replied with a fond smile.
Then he was reminded of his objective.
"Speaking of my beloved, have either of you seen her?"
The assassin gave a slow shake of his head, though his eyes remained closed.
"We have not. Samara and I have been here since just after the festivities began."
Shepard was overcome with a moment of curiosity.
"That reminds me. I know everyone has their own way of celebrating, but why sit here meditating when there's a party on?" he asked him.
Thane pursed his lips lightly before responding.
"I have always preferred my peace. My solitude. Apart from which I wished to meditate on the day's events, on how I feel my skills in the taking of life have at last been of positive value. Samara asked to join me, and I consented. It is…a fascinating sensation. Asari telepathic abilities have their reputation, of course, but to experience them oneself is another matter entirely." He explained.
"I see." Was all he could say. "Well, can I get either of you a drink?"
They both gave a shake of their heads at once.
"You are kind to offer, but I do not partake." Thane declined politely.
"And The Code does not permit me to intoxicate myself, I'm afraid." Samara added.
"Gotcha. Well, I'd better go ask someone else if they've seen Tali. Sorry to interrupt your meditation." He excused himself, taking a few steps toward the gap in the crates which formed their little zen garden.
A rare glimpse of humor showed itself upon the drell's features.
"Believe me, you did not. If that krogan's mad cackling could not disturb us, I don't imagine anything can." He joked lightly.
"Me neither." Shepard replied with a chuckle. "I'll see you two later."
"Go in peace, Shepard." They intoned in unison.
Shaking his head at their uncanny synchronicity, he set off once more in his quest to find his beloved.
The word stuck out in his mind.
Never called her that before. Should give it a try, she likes sappy stuff like that. He mused with a fond smile.
As he made his way to the opposite side of the cluttered cargo bay, he stopped for a moment to take a closer look at a couch off to one side, only barely illuminated by the overhead lamps.
Ken and Gabby sat slumped upon it, fast asleep and cuddled quite closely together. Her arm was thrown across his chest, while his arm wrapped about her shoulders, pulling her near. Looking down, he saw a pair of tipped-over glasses at their feet, alongside what he recognized as a bottle of fine white wine that came all the way from France, back on Earth. Upon closer examination, it became clear that it was empty.
Shepard smiled a little to himself as he took in the scene. He wasn't sure if this moment actually meant anything to them, for them, or if it was the liquor that had brought them there, but he was happy for them all the same.
Those two bicker like an old married couple already. It's about time something happened between them.
He smirked a little to himself as he realized his hypocrisy.
Then again, who am I to talk? God knows I took long enough with Tali.
Leaving the pair of engineers to their slumber, he continued on his path. As he got farther, it became clear that he was approaching the main group, where a majority of the party guests were at their revels. A large crowd of them seemed to be gathered around a table, and were split into two camps, those chanting "Garrus!" and those chanting "Zaeed!"
Judging by the crowd's apparent state of rowdiness and likely-drunkenness, he opted to instead look to the edges of the group, where the ship's two resident physicians stood conversing with each other, locked in a thoughtful discussion if their expressions were any judge.
He caught the tail end of it as he approached them.
"A few tests I've run, as well as a review of the recent literature, suggest that the addition of the clotting factor maltrypsin to standard medi-gel would substantially improve its ability to treat trauma, at least in humans, that is, with possible alternative applications if appropriate analogues can be identified." Doctor Chakwas was saying, eyebrow raised as she awaited his reaction.
Her salarian counterpart considered her words for only a moment before processing them completely and replying in his typical frantic fashion.
"Hm. Yes. Should work. Maltrypsin potent local vasoconstrictor and adhesion promoter in human coagulation reaction. Hasten healing process. Reduce blood flow to affected area better than natural response, reduce likelihood of fatal clots elsewhere. Clever. Possible dextro analogue out of university on Sur'Kesh. Recent study. Funded by the Hierarchy. Promising results. Could secure research data, send to you. Useful for turians. Quarians, too. Would naturally require proper steril-"
"Already preparing for the next fight, doctors?" Shepard interjected.
Doctor Solus looked his way, blinked once, before his quick mind immediately processed the change.
"Shepard. Good to see you. As to question, always next fight. Always wounded. Always better way to treat them. Conversing with fellow professionals conducive to that end. You understand." Mordin explained with a small smile.
"And what a conversation it has been. Doctor Solus has an incredible mind." Chakwas said warmly, before turning her gaze on him. "But what about you, John? Enjoying the evening?"
"Sure am. Though it seems like no matter how hard I try, I can't get more than a little buzzed. Probably something Cerberus did to me, I guess." He mused.
The salarian answered with a sharp nod.
"Correct. Read reports. Significant damage to liver tissue due to vacuum exposure. Organic regenerative methods insufficient, cybernetic augmentation employed. Ability to process toxins improved by three hundred and ninety three point three-three percent. Repeating, of course."
"Of course." He humored the biologist.
"Fascinating work. Many details classified. Shame for it to go unpublished. Tried to bypass security, failed. Heavily encrypted, beyond my ability." Mordin explained with a small frown.
"I would also like to know the finer details of just how they rebuilt you, John. I was going to enlist Miss Zorah's aid in cracking the encryption, especially since it seems our partnership with Cerberus has come to an end." Chakwas said pointedly, swirling around the glass of rich purply wine she held.
"Yeah, it has." He responded. "What the Illusive Man wanted…I couldn't do it. Couldn't let that station survive. You just can't take chances with Reaper tech. Be like children playing around with a god's toys. And even a dead reaper can exert its influence on others. Saw it firsthand."
Mordin seemed to agree with him in an instant.
"Understand decision. Agree entirely. Would normally decry such loss of knowledge. Not now. Extraordinary circumstances. Too many unknowns where Reapers are concerned."
Shepard returned to his objective, then, now that he had been reminded of his spunky engineer and the drunken antics she was likely getting up to without him.
"Speaking of Tali, she's actually why I came over here. Either of you two seen her?"
"Afraid not, John. Though if I had to guess, I'd say she was somewhere with Kasumi. Those two have been nearly inseparable these past few weeks. Not quite so inseparable as you two, but still." Chakwas told him with a warm smile.
"Have not seen her either. Apologies. Too engrossed in observation of celebration. Can't process alcohol, myself. Rare allergy. No desire to partake, anyway. Always fascinating to witness effects, however. Wide variance in response to disinhibition. Interesting as well as amusing." Mordin explained with a cheeky little grin.
"Alright, well I'm gonna keep looking for her, so I'll let you two get back to your medical matters." He excused himself, before moving to turn away and continue his search.
Before he could, however, the salarian spoke again.
"Shepard. Good of you to bring up medical matters. Before you go, one question."
"Shoot." He said easily, though he didn't have any real idea of what this could be about.
"Wanted to ask about latest round of drugs for Miss Zorah. She cleared me to discuss it with you. Done in writing. All official. Changed dosage somewhat. Curious as to effects. Was there a change in severity of reaction to suite removal or sexual contact?" he asked casually, as though it were the most natural thing in the world to discuss.
Shepard could only gape dumbly at the biologist. He scanned the salarian's wide amphibian eyes for any sign of humor, of mockery, and found none, but the way he said it…he swore there was a teasing undercurrent to his words.
Eventually he managed to pull his thoughts together enough to form a sentence.
"Jesus, Mordin! You can't go saying things like that! What ever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?" he sputtered out incredulously.
The doctor held up a placating hand.
"Your pardons. Not intention to offend. But consider alternate case. You come to me, confide suspicion that you have blue irises. Told to me in confidence, true, but is a demonstrable fact, clear to all, common knowledge. No issue to discuss superficially with others. Intimate relationship with Miss Zorah similarly common knowledge among crew."
"Apart from which I'm also a doctor, John." Chakwas chimed in, not bothering to hide her smirk.
"Yeah, b-but that doesn't…" he began feebly, before deciding it wasn't worth it. Perhaps one day his personal affairs would stop being so damn amusing to those around him, but that day was not today, he thought.
"Alright, fine! You win! There was a reaction, yes. But it was mild. She said it's only gotten less severe in the past few weeks. Happy?" he ended, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Sarcasm the salarian either didn't pick up on, or chose to ignore. Given his wit, Shepard thought he could guess which one.
"Quite so. Results to be expected. Immune system adaptive. Bound to acclimate to your particular bacterial microbiome over time. Predict drugs will be unnecessary before long."
And though he was pleased at his assessment, he could not just let it go that easy.
"Glad to hear it. Maybe these questions will, too." He said dryly. "I'm gonna go find Tali now. And not for the reason you both seem to think."
"Do enjoy yourself, John." Chakwas urged him. "I dare say you've earned an evening to celebrate your accomplishments."
Mordin gave another sharp nod at her words.
"Concur completely. Great victory today. Owed to you. Proud of own small role in winning it." He said with a smile.
"Right. See you two later on." He said dryly, before turning on his heel and quickly walking away before he could be pestered with more personal questions.
At this point, Shepard felt himself running out of options. It didn't seem that anyone had seen Tali. The tipsy quarian may as well have vanished into thin air.
In spite of his earlier assessment, he decided to ask someone from the rowdy, raucous main group for help in his search.
As he neared the crowd gathered around the table, its chanting grew louder. He managed to pick out the black-and-white of Miranda's jumpsuit and the tattooed tapestry of Jack's nearly-bare back. Deciding they'd be his best bet in this situation, he nudged his way past a few of the CIC techs, and then between the two rivals.
After a grunt of irritation and surprise at his interjection, Jack's face brightened a little to see him standing there.
"'Ey! There's the man of the hour! Where the fuck you been?" she slurred while throwing an arm roughly around his shoulder to yank him closer to her, a move he resisted somewhat once he got a whiff of her breath.
"Oh, a number of places. Losing a drinking contest to a krogan, getting a lesson in body language and meditation, being embarrassed by a pair of doctors…" he listed them off by counting them on one hand.
"Wha?" she asked dimly.
"Never mind. What's going on here?"
Miranda answered him, to his left.
"Garrus and Zaeed have gotten into an arm-wrestling contest." She said evenly, without the usual condescension he might have normally expected her voice to carry over such a frivolity.
He peaked over the shoulder of one of the techs to get a better look at where the two soldiers sat across from each other at a small table. Their arms were locked tightly together, and were almost entirely upright, with no clear favorite to win from what he could tell.
It did seem as though they had been at it for some time, as the grizzled old mercenary's face was covered in a light sheen of sweat and his jaw was locked tighter than tetanus, though he managed to keep any sign of fatigue from his cold, mismatched eyes as he looked the turian down with a determined glare.
As for Garrus, the sniper's face was as much a mask as it normally was. Turians did not sweat, and their expressions were almost entirely inscrutable, so from an outside perspective he might not look tired at all. But Shepard saw how his mouth hung open more than usual, how his shoulders rose and fell rhythmically as they often did after long firefights or sparring sessions.
Stoic on the outside, but he's panting like a dog.
"How long have they been at it?" he asked the raven-haired Australian.
She met his question with a small smirk of her full lips.
"Long enough for a betting ring to be established." She said dryly, cocking her head to the side of the circle where Mess Sergeant Gardner sat at a small table, making a juggling act of a formidable stack of credit chits, typing frantically at a datapad to keep them all straight.
He chuckled lightly to see it.
"So who do you think's gonna win?" he asked her eventually.
She met his words with another smirk.
"Garrus will win…or at least he'd better. He owes me two hundred credits, otherwise."
Shepard's jaw fell open, and he gave a surprised, unbelieving scoff.
"I never thought I'd see the day. Operative Miranda Lawson, the sovereign of stuck-uppery, the ice queen herself…is gambling!"
Jack let out a snort of laughter beside him.
"Yeah, couldn't b'lieve it either. Wuzzin even gonna bet at all, but then the cheerleader got in on it. S'then I had t'double her bet, 'cept I put it on the, uh…th'other one." She slurred.
"Zaeed?" he supplied.
"Th'other one." She insisted, bringing the near-empty bottle of whiskey in her other hand up to her lips to take a greedy swig, amber liquid sloshing about noisily at the motion.
He looked back at Miranda with an expectant grin, urging her to answer his earlier exclamation. She took a sip from the tumbler of fancy scotch she held in her hand before replying.
"Come now, Shepard. You really didn't expect something like this from me? Or have you not guessed where all this liquor came from?" his XO answered, voice smug and silky.
"I had my suspicions. Good work getting ahead on that, by the way." He said, before his earlier thoughts came back to his mind, and he realized there was no better person to ask about what meddling had been done on his body than the director of Project Lazarus herself.
"This is some real top-shelf stuff you brought in for us. I myself was going drink for drink with Grunt earlier. Definitely isn't something I could've survived before you and your team of Frankensteins got your hands on me. Got anything to say about that?" he asked sardonically.
She met him without balking, arching a slim eyebrow his way.
"I deemed it necessary, Shepard. Heightened liver functionality has a host of benefits for the body. I'm sure you can understand that preserving your ability to get sloshed was not exactly at the forefront of my mind back then. I had more important concerns when bringing you back to life. Like, for instance, bringing you back to life." She finished just as pointedly.
He grinned lightly at her.
"Yeah, I can see how it might not have seemed so important at the time. Now, I don't see why you couldn't have just given me a little button under my skin to toggle the super-liver on and off, but oh well. There's a silver lining to everything. Man who can't get drunk can't get a hangover, either."
"So long as it stops you complaining, I think that is the right attitude to take." She teased.
Another question came to Shepard's mind, then, one more serious.
"Miranda…about today…" he began.
"I understand why you destroyed the station, Shepard. Agree with you, even."
"That's not what I was talking about. I'm just wondering what your plans are now that you've cut ties with the Illusive Man." He said softly.
Her piercing blue eyes took on an uncharacteristically uncertain light, and her full lips twitched into a slight frown.
"I…I'm not sure. Cerberus has been my life for so long…I'm not sure." Was all she could manage.
"Well, whatever your plans are, I wish you well. But you know there'll always be a place for you here, right?" he assured her warmly.
"I know that, Shepard. And…it means a lot to hear you say that." Her voice wavered a little with emotion she did not usually allow to shine through.
It was at that moment that the absurdity of this entire interaction struck him, how unthinkable it would have been to him at the start.
He laughed a little under his breath.
"What?" she asked him with another quirk of her eyebrow.
"Nothing, just thinking of how far we've come, you and I. Ten months ago, I'd have leapt at this opportunity, at any opportunity to get you off my ship and out of my hair…but here I am now saying that you're welcome here whenever you like, thinking of you as a close friend of mine."
She met his words with a warm smile.
"A lot can change with enough time and hardship. Someone told me once that there is nothing like war to make good friends of complete strangers., that it's necessary for all the bloodshed to be bearable. Seems that applies even when those strangers start off hating each other."
Before he could say anything more, Jack piped up from his right.
"Geeee-zusss! If this rotgut won't have me throwin' my dinner up, then all this sappy talk will! Fishbowl okay with you an' the cheerleader gettin' all fuckin' mushy like this?!" she exclaimed.
Despite the crassness of her words and tone, he was at least glad that they reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing.
"I'm not sure. Maybe I'll go ask her, but I have to find her first. Have you seen her, Jack?"
She gave an exaggerated shake of her head.
"Nahh, not fer a while. Pretty fuckin' sauced she was, then. Aff'tur like three drinks! I swear, that girl o' yours cannot hold 'er liquor to save 'er life!"
Her words brought another fond smile to his lips.
"Oh, I'm well aware of that. Miranda?" he asked, flitting his eyes over to his left.
"I'm afraid I haven't seen her either, Shepard."
After yet another dead end, a bit of irritation filled the commander.
"Well, shit, it seems like no one has!" he groaned, earning a simultaneous shrug from the two women.
"Right, well, I'm gonna keep looking. Might have to get a team of bloodhounds in here at this point. Miranda, Jack, good luck with your bets." He said dismissively.
Jack lolled her head to the side in a question.
"Huh? My bet or hurz?" she slurred.
After a moment's consideration, he gave his reply.
"Yes." He quipped, nudging them both with his shoulders before slipping back out of the circle.
"Fuckin' asshole…" he heard the ex-con mumble as he went.
"Oh, to be sure. But why don't we have a drink to that arsehole?" he heard Miranda propose.
And while he did not hear the rest of the exchange, the telltale clink of glass letting him know that him being an asshole was the one point of common ground the two had been able to find.
Despite his amusement at this fact, Shepard was a little annoyed, and about ready to give up in his search. It seemed no one around here had seen Tali.
But then his gaze alit on the oddest member of his little gaggle of oddities, standing near the door.
Its single optic sensor seemed to detect his eyes upon it, and the metal panels which surrounded the pale blue light it emitted twitched minutely, as if in a question.
Geth are perceptive as a rule. And I've never known Legion to forget anything it saw. Probably my best bet.
Once he had crossed the moderate distance which separated them, the geth began the conversation, speaking in its even, synthesized buzz.
"Shepard-Commander."
"Hello, Legion. It's good to see you. Enjoying the party?" he asked it.
"Negative."
"Right, sorry. Forgot about the whole…'no feelings' thing." He said, somewhat sheepishly.
Conversing with the geth was never exactly comfortable for Shepard, in spite of how forthcoming it had been during their mission, about its intentions, about what it knew. Though he had to admit he liked the geth, not that he expected it felt the same for him, a bit of that discomfort about them lingered.
His only exposure to geth before Legion came aboard had been during the fight with Saren. And after, on Haestrom, they'd almost killed his beloved, she who was more important to him than life itself, even if she hadn't meant quite so much to him, then. And they actually had killed a dozen of her friends.
Add to that the fact that some of Tali's general anti-geth sentiment had rubbed off on him, and he was never entirely at ease around the battered synthetic, despite the fondness he harbored for its blunt honesty and endless curiosity.
Legion's voice broke him out of his thoughts.
"We deem this lapse in memory highly improbable. You were following simple organic social protocol without consideration for your interlocutor."
"Well, you're right about that." He allowed.
"We are aware." It said in as smug a way a synthetic could.
Shepard raised a quizzical eyebrow at it.
"So if you're not enjoying the party, then why are you here?"
Legion answered immediately, as if expecting the question.
"Organic celebratory ritual presents an opportunity to record new data. Variable response to manual intoxication is of particular interest."
Shepard stopped to ponder its words for a bit.
"So how's the, uh…recording going?" was all he could manage. He often found that the geth's words did not exactly have an appropriate response.
"All processes pertaining to perception and data storage are operating within acceptable parameters." It reported evenly.
"Right…Anyway, I had a question I wanted to ask you."
"State query. We will answer if able." It buzzed, almost earnestly.
"I was wondering if you had seen Tali earlier?"
"Affirmative."
He looked expectantly into its optic, waiting for it to say more, but it did not, nor did it give any indication that it thought it should.
"Do you know where she is now?" he asked, a little irritated.
"Negative."
He brought his palm up to smack lightly against his face, then. There were times when he suspected the stoic geth was messing with him, and this was certainly one of those times.
Collecting himself, he asked again, rephrasing.
"When exactly was the last time you saw her, and what was she doing at that time?" he spoke precisely, hoping the question was specific enough for it.
Legion's flaps twitched again as it accessed the memory.
"Last observed one hour, two minutes, thirty-seven seconds ago. Tali-Zorah-Super-Ultimate-Badass-Kapow departed this room alongside Kasumi-Goto-Savior-Of-The-Galaxy-No-Wait-Of-The-Whole-Damn-Universe." It said, just as evenly as before.
He stared incredulously into its optic. There was simply no way this was happening.
A joke? Did a geth just make a joke? Maybe I am drunk after all, or maybe I clonked my head on the Collector station saving Tali a little harder than I thought.
Apparently he had been processing the moment long enough that even Legion took notice of his stunned silence.
"We detect confusion. Is our assessment correct?"
"I…Of course it's correct! Did you just make a joke, Legion?!" he implored it.
"Negative. We do not make jokes. You are aware of this."
"But…those nicknames?" he asked weakly, still unable to wrap his head around the idea of a geth engaging in comedy.
"These two operatives requested a formal alteration of their designations within our registry, a request we granted. We determined that this request has its origin in their present state of acute ethanol intoxication. This alteration will be reverted upon the cessation of this state and their return to lucidity." It explained evenly.
"I…but why…did they say where they were going?" he said at last, giving up in trying to understand any of this.
"No direct references were made to intended destination." The flaps around its optic fanned out a little as it seemed to think. "Inferred destination: port observation deck of Frigate-Normandy, current living space of Kasumi-Goto-Savior-Of-The-Galaxy-No-Wait-Of-The-Whole-Damn-Universe. Operative repeatedly expressed desire to show Tali-Zorah-Super-Ultimate-Badass-Kapow a 'lava lamp' in her possession due to it being quote 'really fuckin' cool,' end quote. We find the most likely location of this object to be in Operative's living space."
Again, he could only stare at the synthetic.
Maybe somebody spiked my drink with something. Could see Jack doing that at some point.
"You're screwing with me, Legion. You gotta be." He said at last.
"Negative. No deception is being employed. Playback is available to alleviate suspicion if desired." It said with an upward, inquisitive tone.
"Sure?" he replied in the same cadence.
"Initiating playback."
Legion's flaps extended entirely as it accessed the audio recording.
"Tali, c'monnnn!" Kasumi said, voice high and thick, clearly quite drunk.
"Gimme a m-moment, I hav'n't seen John in like two hours!" Tali said back, in about the same state of inebriation, her accent much more pronounced than usual.
"You c'n canoodle with your boyfriend later, just come with me!" the thief implored her again.
"I c'n what?!" was the quarian's confused kickback.
"Duzzin matter, just follow meee! You gotta see this lava lamp, it's really fuckin' cool!"
"Fine, fine, just gimme a bit…Keelah, my head is spinning…"
The flaps around its optic retracted back to their original position once the playback ended, and it fixed him with a look that seemed to contain expectation of some kind.
"Well, I can't argue with evidence like that. Looks like you weren't screwing with me." He conceded, putting his hands up in surrender.
"Deception is not conducive to our goal of continued integration with Normandy-Collective." The geth explained.
"I suppose I apologize for not trusting you." He said with a smirk.
"Your apology is unnecessary. We understand the reasoning behind your presumption." It excused him.
"Good, good. Glad there's no hard feelings, er…you know what I mean. I hope. Well, thank you, Legion, you've been very…helpful."
"Acknowledged. This platform will remain here if further assistance is required." It said by way of dismissing him, reverting its optic back to its observation of the party.
Shepard turned to walk toward the door, now with an actual destination in mind, shaking his head bemusedly at the entire interaction he had just been part of. The jokes he thought had been Legion's could both be explained as just a bit of loopy antics by the two drunk women, except for one part…
"Hey, Legion…" he said over his shoulder to get its attention.
"Shepard-Commander." It replied evenly.
"I've got one more question for you."
"State query."
"Why did you alter Tali and Kasumi's designations in your system?' he asked pointedly.
The geth's head flaps twitched once more, and there was a slight pause as it seemed to process the reasoning behind asking a question which had already been answered, to its mind.
"The operatives in question issued a formal request. As was stated."
"Well, yes, but you knew they were drunk." He pressed.
Another twitch of its panels.
"Clarify."
"You knew they were drunk…mentally impaired for the moment. So you knew the request was not likely to be entirely serious. And you already stated your intention to revert it once they got sober, right?"
"Affirmative."
"So then why grant their request at all? To humor them? Because it amused you?" he finished with a smirk.
Its optic flaps twitched around a great deal more, then, and he heard a faint whirring sound exuding from within its chassis. After a long silence, Legion's optic shifted from pale blue to harsh red for a moment before it gave its reply.
"No data available."
After a brief pause, Shepard burst out laughing, feeling it wrack his shoulders as he recalled the geth saying something similar after he had asked it why it had salvaged his hardsuit after his death, instead of using something which was not his to repair some damage it had sustained.
The geth's pure, cold logic had been unable to explain a bit of rudimentary hero worship then, just as it seemed unable to explain its amusement at two drunk young women asking to be called something outlandish right now.
In spite of himself, he reached out to rest his hand on the cool metal of its shoulder junction, just next to the N7-emblazoned polymer plate.
"Do me a favor, Legion, and never change." He said fondly.
"We must deny this request. Our behavior may be altered pending the acquisition of new data." It deflected precisely.
A wide grin appeared on Shepard's lips.
"See, that's exactly what I mean. I love ya, ya big bucket o' bolts."
Its flaps twitched again.
"We are unable to reciprocate this affection. That is the domain of Tali-Zorah-Super-Ultimate-Badass-Kapow."
Another laughing fit seized hold of him, then, pouring out from deep in his chest, and though he might have been imagining it, he swore the geth's side lights flickered in what seemed to be a pleased laugh of its own.
Once his shoulders stopped shaking, he turned to head back toward the door to the cargo bay.
He had been reminded once more by the joke of his true objective, and resolved to go and find his "affection reciprocator."
Now that's a pet name I'm not sure she'll like so much.
"That it is." He eventually answered it over his shoulder. "Think I'll go and find her now."
"Acknowledged." It dismissed him, as though it had not just revealed a heretofore entirely non-existent capacity for humor to him.
As he made his way to the elevator, Shepard stopped for a moment to consider the broader implications of the moment, trivial as it may seem on the surface.
Legion's stated intent for its platform to be sent beyond the Veil was for it to serve as a sort of emissary for its kind, to gain greater understanding of organics and to provide understanding of synthetics.
While this one little moment was hardly an epiphany for the geth, the time at which it at last came to a full understanding of organics, it was something. The capacity for such feelings as bemusement that it had displayed signaled at least the beginning of understanding, and made the future of organic-synthetic relations look quite a bit brighter than they had previously.
And while he did not wish to overestimate the significance of what had occurred, it did give him some kind of strange hope. Hope for peace. Hope for reconciliation between creator and created. Hope that he may one day stand beside his love on her people's long-lost home world, as he had promised her some time ago.
One thing at a time, he reminded himself, not wanting to spoil this victory by dwelling on all those he still had left to win.
But there's nothing wrong with a little dreaming, he allowed himself with a small smile.
Shepard entered the elevator and tapped at the access panel to take him to the crew deck where Kasumi lived.
After a typically sluggish journey upward, the elevator's doors slid open.
While he had expected the quiet to meet his ears, he was surprised to find that it did not. Instead, there was a sound carrying through the hallway, faint and indistinct.
Realizing that its source was situated at his destination, he started walking down the hall to the port observation deck.
As he neared the door, the noise became clearer until he was able to identify it: Tali's high-pitched giggle, though a good deal more manic and bubbly than it normally was.
He smiled to hear it, just as he always did when that lovely sound graced his ears.
Now at the door, he stopped to listen a moment longer, pressing his ear to the cool metal. Tali's giggling had died down by then, and he heard Kasumi say something, but couldn't be sure of what it was.
Tali made an indignant noise, then, before he heard a low thump as something fell to the ground, prompting another burst of respondent giggling from the quarian.
He decided then that now was the time to intercede into whatever antics the two were getting up to, so he pressed his hand to the access panel and stopped to take in the scene.
His eyes first fell on where Tali sat on a couch, caught in a bout of raucous laughter, head thrown back and body rocking unsteadily in her mirth. One three-fingered hand slapped at her thigh in yet another gesture she had taken from him, and a clear tube of some pale blue liquor was slotted into the bottom of her helmet in an amusing fashion, looking like a lone walrus tusk.
The room was dimly illuminated, as the only light came from a screen playing some vid he did not recognize and a swirling orange lava lamp on the central table, so it took him a moment to see Kasumi once he cast his eyes around. The slim thief was sprawled across the floor, asleep or unconscious or some combination of the two.
He could only really raise an eyebrow at the scene, getting the sense that it was not serious but unable to form any idea of what had happened here.
After a moment more of her giggling, Tali seemed to finally notice him standing in the doorway, cutting herself off with an adorable hiccup.
"John? *hic* Heyyyy!" she chirped with some amazement, as though it had been two years since she had last seen him instead of two hours.
"Hey, Tali." He replied bemusedly, before realizing he really should ask after Kasumi.
"I missed you!" she exclaimed.
"Missed you too, love, but would you mind telling me why-" he began.
She wagged a finger at him to cut him off.
"Shhh, hold on, John. I was *hic* was looking for you earli-…Ur-lee-ur. I wanted to…um…" she stopped and looked away as her drunk mind tried feebly to remember what she had wanted to see him for.
"Did it have something to do with Kasumi?" he supplied with a little smirk.
Her eyes grew wide and bright.
"That's it! You…you're a genius, John!" she gushed at him. "There was this joke Kasumi told me. Ve-ry fu-nny. There's this toorian, and he…well he…" she trailed off again before apparently deciding that it would be better to just have it told by the source.
"Sumi!" she called out, louder than was necessary. "W-what was that joke about the toorian with the…face surjury thing?"
When Tali got no response, she gave a low sound of annoyance before extending a two-toed foot to nudge the slumped form of the thief none-too-gently.
"Suuuuuu-miiiii?" she called again, as Shepard continued to look on in amusement.
"Don't think she's gonna answer you, Tali." He said bemusedly. "She's asleep."
"Really?" she gasped. "Yes!"
Her arms shot to the ceiling in triumph, and he quirked an eyebrow at her in response.
"Mind telling me why you're acting like you just won the lottery?"
She blinked dimly at him a few times in confusion.
"Th' what?" she asked him.
"Nevermind, love. Why is it such a good thing that she's asleep?" he inquired with another smirk.
"Weee had a bet..*hic* the first one to fall asleep has to…has tooooo…" she trailed off again, but this time in amusement, as she fought to contain more laughter.
"Has to?" he prompted.
"Has to kiss Garrus!" she confessed at last, before falling into another bubbly giggling fit that he could not help but join in on. It seemed as though the thought of it was just the funniest thing in the world to her.
Once the moment died away, he allowed himself to slump down into the reclining chair which sat beside the large couch that Tali sat on.
"Well, I'm glad Kasumi came out the loser. You know I'm the jealous type." He quipped through the last of his chuckling.
She tossed a dismissive hand his way.
"Oh, calm dooown. I'm yours, you bosh'tet…*hic* And you're mine." She said sweetly, now much more lucid than she had been.
His throat tightened a little at the warm honesty in her voice, but he kept it out of his own.
"Oh, yeah? How do I know that's not just the liquor talking?"
Tali cocked her head at him in exasperation, before her legs coiled up beneath her and she pounced, launching herself across the small distance that separated them to land heavily in his lap, forcing him to catch her with a surprised yelp and a grunt.
While he was busy trying not to drop her from the small chair, she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, placing a hand on the back of his head and tugging it down to clonk clumsily against her visor in the sort of kiss she did not often give him anymore.
And while he adored the softness of her lips, this one felt just as sweet in spite of the cool glass that separated them.
"That's how." She whispered, silvery eyes burning into his through the smoky purple.
He let a dumb, wide grin come across his lips.
"Alright…I guess I believe you." He conceded.
She gave a smug noise of triumph before pulling back and nestling her head against his chest, shifting her weight in his lap to get more comfortable as he wrapped an arm about her waist to keep her close.
And while he could certainly not argue with this turn of events, her sweet words and impulsive leap into his lap did nothing to explain why Kasumi lay on the floor.
"I'm happy you won your bet, but that still doesn't explain why Kasumi's on the floor." He said pointedly.
She gave another giggle.
"That was herrr fault. She said I had tooo much to drink. Tried to take my Fal- *hic* Falusian Frostwine." She explained, bringing a hand up to gesture at the tube of icy-blue liquor in her helmet and taking a noisy sip now that she had reminded herself it was still there.
"That's a fun name." he said with a smirk.
Tali's bright eyes came up to meet his.
"Hey, that's what I said!" she exclaimed, as though it was the most amazing thing in the world that they had reacted the same.
Her eyes fell back down, and she seemed to grow a little pensive.
"Fffun Fffal-u-sian Fffrostwine." She said slowly, overenunciating her "f's" in a way he could not help but find adorable.
His grin widened yet further.
"So Kasumi tried to take your booze and…fell somehow?"
Tali nodded against his chest and giggled again.
"Mmmm-hmm. Stumbled over her own five feet. And she called me a lightweight!" she exclaimed with another noisy slurp of her drink.
"You are a lightweight, love. Also…five feet?" he ended confusedly.
"Wha? Ohhhh, I get it. Two feet, five toes…got it alllll mixed up…hey, why do you have so many toes, John?" she asked with genuine curiosity. "Oh, and fingers, too!"
He gave a low chuckle.
"I'm not sure, Tali."
"How d'you keep track of them all?" she pressed. "I could never…"
"Oh, I manage, somehow. Now, I'm gonna have to agree with Kasumi in this case. I think you've had enough to drink."
"And I think youuuu can go fuhk yourself."
She drawled sluggishly, before her eyes widened and she gasped in horror, bringing a hand up to her faceplate.
"Keelah, I'm s-sorry, John!" she seemed fully lucid now, and terrified that her words had actually offended him. "J-Jack taught me how to say it earlier, and now I…can't stop saying it. To everyone."
Hearing her swear like a sailor had been funny enough, but the idea of her going around and cussing everybody out, probably for similarly trivial reasons as this one, was just too much.
He burst out laughing, then, shoulders shaking and head thrown back. After realizing she had not actually offended him, Tali joined the soft music of her own giggle with his.
After he got a hold of himself once more, Shepard looked down at the slim quarian still nestled against him.
"I see now what the evil liquor has done to my sweet, innocent Tali. Turned her into a mannerless pottymouth." He said with mock pretentiousness. "But don't worry, I'll rescue you from the perils of your intemperance."
Quick as he could, he reached down beneath Tali's helmet to twist the tube of blue wine until the seal broke, yanking it away and extending his arm as far as it would go.
In her addled state, Tali's normally quick reaction time was significantly impaired, and she was powerless to resist his attack until it was too late.
"Heyyy! I wuzzin done with that!" she whined indignantly, pushing herself off of him slightly and reaching feebly for her lost liquor tube, slapping lightly at his arm once she realized it was out of her reach.
"I'm sorry, Tali." He teased her. "But I'm cutting you off."
"I'll cut you off!" she countered playfully, reaching down to pull her boot knife from its sheath, wagging it clumsily at his face in an attempt to seem threatening, but only really succeeding in seeming cute, by his judgment.
Her show of force did nothing to stop him from simply reaching out and plucking the polished metal blade from her fingers with his other hand and repeating the process, dangling it out of her reach.
She gave another indignant whine and, apparently not having learned the first time, tried her very hardest to take back her knife, only to get a similar result as with the bottle.
Eventually, though, she gave up, slumping atop him in surrender.
"Ugh, no fair! You're not drunk, you have an advantage!" she groaned.
"It's for your own good, love. You can have this back when you're a little less plastered." He chided her with a smirk.
She looked up at him with annoyance.
"Don't you take that *hic* tone with me, John. You sound juuust like Kasumi." She grumbled, before her drunk mind seemed to immediately move on from her indignation to its next fixation.
"Ka-su-mi." she said to herself, as though she never realized what it sounded like until just now. "Ka-suuuuu-mi. Kasumi is such a pretty name. Not like John."
He looked down at her with a bemused pout.
"That's hurtful, Tali."
She reached up to sluggishly place a hand on his cheek.
"It's okay. Your name's not pretty…but I still love you." She whispered warmly.
His heart rose to his throat in spite of how clumsily she had gotten around to saying it, an involuntary reaction that stuck with him even several months after he had first heard those words said to him in that lovely voice of hers.
Even drunk, she can still do this to me.
"Love you, too. You've got a very pretty name, though."
The barest hint of a laugh spilled from her lips.
"I know." She cooed smugly, bringing her head back down to nuzzle softly against his chest once more.
Shepard felt Tali's body go limp against him after shifting around a little more and snuggling in to her favorite resting place. It became clear to him that she was getting quite tired. He himself was not ready to go to sleep just yet, so he contented himself with focusing on how nice it felt to have her pressed against him, the warmth and the weight of her body pleasant against his skin in the cool air of the room.
He tossed the wine bottle lightly onto the couch before reaching down to slip the boot knife gently back into its place, freeing up his arms to pull her yet closer to him.
After a few minutes, he realized he wanted to ask her about the other drunken antics she had gotten up to that night, but in light of her sleepiness, he restricted himself to just the one question.
"Tali?" he asked quietly, looking down at her.
"Mm?"
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Mm-hm." She hummed without looking up.
"So…I had a little chat with Legion earlier, and it told me that you picked out a new name for yourself."
She gave a soft giggle from low in her chest as she recalled the memory.
"Yeah…Sumi taught me what the word 'badass' meant and how to say it…humans have such fun swear words." She said softly.
"Well, yeah, I gathered that much, but…Kapow?" he asked her.
"Kapow." She repeated, as though it was obvious. Sensing that he still did not understand, she pulled her head from his chest to look up at him and meet his confused gaze.
"You know…" she insisted, before bringing up both her hands from where they had rested on his back, curling them into finger guns.
"Kapow!" she exclaimed, pointing them up at his face and shaking them a little to simulate recoil.
He stared down at her with a dumb grin across his face.
"I ever tell you how incredibly adorable you are?" was all he could say.
Behind the visor, Tali's eyes squished up into what he knew spoke of a smile.
"Sometimes…though you could stand to say it a little more often." She joked softly.
"I'll work on that, love. I promise." He murmured, resting his chin atop her head.
She hummed her ascent before pressing it into his chest a little more. It didn't take long after that for her to start falling asleep. In the dim and quiet of the room, he supposed it was rather easy, apart from which she claimed being near him always helped lull her to sleep.
He himself was not ready to go to sleep just yet, so he contented himself with focusing on how nice it felt to have her pressed against him, the warmth and the weight of her body pleasant against his skin, warding off the cool air of the room. He shut his eyes and basked in the closeness.
After a few minutes, a smile came to his lips as Tali began to snore. It was not the sort of snore a human would ever produce, nothing like the harsh, guttural sound he sometimes made, but a light, blissful, trilling purr from deep in her chest that reminded him of the cooing of a pigeon. She only ever did it sometimes, when she was at her most relaxed, so he cherished every time it graced his ears.
Even a sound that's supposed to be embarrassing sounds sweeter than music coming out of her, he mused, looking fondly down at her.
Drawing in and letting out a deep, relaxed breath, he sunk further into his chair and shut his eyes once more, guessing he might end up asleep anyway as a result of the soothing sound.
It was twenty or perhaps thirty minutes later when he was pulled from the edge of sleep by the sound of the room's door sliding closed.
Cracking his eyes open, he glanced around to get his bearings. It didn't take him long to notice that Kasumi was absent, and had presumably just left. It only really struck him then where he and Tali were, and that it would be unfair of them to evict the thief from her quarters for the sake of convenience.
Probably sleep better in our own bed, anyway. He thought.
Based on the soft purr he still heard in his ears and felt vibrating against his chest, he surmised that Tali was still sound asleep. He craned his neck a little just to be sure, and found her visor devoid of the light of her eyes.
"Tali?" he asked quietly, to see if she might wake easy.
He got no response.
"Tali." He pressed, a little louder, nudging her with a shoulder, but still he got no response.
Realizing then that there was only one option, Shepard shifted his hands along her body until one looped under her knees and one cradled her back.
Moving his feet back to the edge of the chair, he tensed his legs and pushed himself to his feet with a small grunt, though he tried to keep his movements as gentle as possible. He was encouraged by the continued snoring, so he started to make his way toward the door.
Hefting her limp body in his arms, he managed to get her head resting in the crook of his neck so that it would not dangle and hurt her neck. But then he realized he would need a free hand to open the door, and that he would have to set her down.
The problem was solved for him when the door slid open all on its own. The reason for this became clear when, a few seconds later, he heard Kasumi speak behind him, voice low and throaty.
"Sleep tight, you lovebirds."
"G'night, Kasumi." He replied wryly without looking back.
The rest of the journey up to the top deck proceeded without incident, as he was able to tap the elevator panel with a hip after a few tries.
Stepping into the quiet of their cabin, he tried to tred lightly as he neared the bed, lowering the slumbering quarian gently down onto the mattress and grabbing a thick blanket to place atop her.
Given that he was still not quite ready for sleep himself, and that he felt he should at least go and say good night to everyone still down in the cargo bay, he turned to tip-toe away and leave Tali to her rest.
"John?" she asked quietly behind him.
He turned back to face her, and found her staring up at him, eyes blinking blearily behind her visor.
Walking back to stand at her side, he lowered a hand to rest upon her shoulder, drawing circles on it with his thumb.
"It's alright, love. Go back to sleep." He encouraged her, before letting go and turning to walk away from her again.
"Don't go." She pleaded him softly. "I'll get cold without my dashing commander to keep me warm."
He regarded her with a small smirk.
"Is that so? See, I thought alcohol was supposed to make you feel warm all over. Unless it affects quarians differently?" He left it open, but he thought he already knew the answer.
Tali paused for a moment.
"It doesn't. I lied. I just want you to stay." She admitted a little sheepishly.
He gave her a low chuckle as he glanced down at her.
"Could've just said so, y'know."
She gave him back a soft giggle.
"Still a little drunk…still a little stupid."
"You really are a cute drunk, you know that?" he asked warmly as he moved to take his position behind her on the bed, tossing his arm across her stomach to pull her close.
"I do." She replied, a little smugly. "Sumi told me so. Garrus, too."
"Did he now? Sure I don't have any reason to be jealous?" he joked.
"Mm. I'm sure. There's only one alien for me." She cooed, pulling her head back until it rested beneath his.
He pressed a soft kiss to the top of it, but it seemed she was not done.
"Besides…it would never work. Turians don't get nearly as warm as humans do."
Shepard scoffed.
"So that's all I am to you? Just your personal furnace?" he said with mock indignation.
She giggled in response.
"Don't be ridiculous. You are many things to me, John. Your role as my personal furnace just happens to be the most important." She teased him.
He scoffed again.
"Go to sleep, Tali. You're drunk." He replied dryly.
But it seemed the booze had her in an even more playful mood than normal.
"Sure thing…hot stuff." She quipped again.
He let out a short bark of laughter.
"You sure have picked up a lot of new vocabulary tonight. Who taught you that one? Jack?" he asked her.
"Try again."
"Kasumi?"
"No-oo." She chirped.
Shepard's brow furrowed as he considered who else she had spoken to that night, before realizing that he probably wouldn't be able to guess.
"I give up." He said at last.
"So easily?" he could almost hear the smirk in her voice. "I'll give you a hint. She's got hair the color of my eyes."
His eyes widened a touch. There was only one woman like that aboard.
"Chakwas? You went to Doctor Chakwas to learn a new pet name for me?" he asked a little incredulously.
"Why not? She knows you well, knows what you would like…" she defended herself. "And it worked well here with the whole…furnace…thing. It was a good one!" she insisted.
"It was." He agreed with a fond smile. "Besides, there are worse things to be called than 'hot stuff.'" He ended knowingly.
Tali's head shifted from underneath his chin to look over at him.
"Like what?"
"Affection reciprocator?" he recited flatly, earning a scoff from the quarian.
"That's awful, John." She answered bluntly.
"I agree with you there. How about 'beloved?'" he offered, earning a pleased hum instead.
"I like that one." She murmured sweetly, nestling her head back against his chest and taking a deep breath before her body relaxed once more against his.
Silence lingered between them for a long time, and he thought it would not be long until she returned to her slumber, but she surprised him by turning back to face him and speaking once again, voice low and light.
"Hey, John?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you…did I say that already?" she whispered warmly.
"Love you, too. And you did say it, earlier…but you could stand to say it more often." He said back with a wide grin, mirroring her earlier words.
She sent a tired smile his way.
"I'll work on that, hot stuff…I promise." Was all she could manage before the silver stars shining behind her visor flickered once, twice, before they went out entirely as her neck went limp and her head fell onto his chest with a thump, resuming her lovely snoring in an instant.
With a contented sigh, Shepard settled in for the sleep he knew would soon find him, doubly so now that he had her low purring to soothe him.
He stopped for just a moment to reflect on the events of the day. The harrowing battle, the utter rapture of triumph, all the fun that had come after during the party, and up to the quiet bliss of this moment right now. And just before sleep overcame him, he had but one final thought.
Victory is sweet.