Ashley

"Anderson!" Ashley settled into a salute. The admiral returned it before holding out the same hand, which she took, shaking with him. She was just about to tell him her good news – honestly, she felt like a fucking schoolgirl, but she couldn't deny that being engaged to Samantha make her feel giddy as fuck – when she caught just who the people he had been speaking with were.

"Shepard?"

"Ashley?"

Before she could respond – with what she didn't know – Anderson asked her, "Lieutenant-Commander, how did it go in there?"

Right. I was just in with the Council of Admirals. Telling them what I knew about Sovereign, and the Collectors. Right.

She shook her head as she focused back on Anderson, Shepard and Vega coming up behind him. "I can never tell with them, sir. I'm just waiting for orders now. I think at this point it's clear I'm likely to not get to visit my mother this weekend as I'd planned, though."

He snorted softly, also shaking his head. "The things we do for duty, eh?"

"Lieutenant-Commander?" Shepard asked, furrowing her brows in confusion. The other woman looked as she always had, with short black locks of hair in a persistent muss atop her head. Her skin was a dusky tan, freckles showing over her cheeks and nose. The landscape of Shepard's face had changed, her complexion almost soft. It was a little disconcerting, given that the soldier had had a slash from just under her eye that traveled down through her lips before, a relic of the Skyllian Blitz. The eyes, though… those were the same as they always had been, a blue made brighter by the dark hair and long lashes. The height, too, was the same as it had always been, just a few inches below Ashley's own.

It was clear even under her uniform that Shepard had kept up with her usual fitness regimen while in her odd form of house arrest on base after she'd blown up that mass effect relay. Ashley hadn't seen her at all during that time, not since Shepard had silently relinquished control of the Normandy over to her on the Citadel all those months ago, also turning herself in to Alliance custody. To see her now, in the flesh, the first time actually speaking since their fight on Horizon… Ashley really wasn't sure what to think, other than that it was weird.

Luckily, Anderson saved her from having to puzzle it out in the middle of a conversation. "You didn't know, Shepard?"

"No," Shepard murmured with a headshake. "I'm a bit… out of the loop these days."

Almost unconsciously Ashley was apologizing. "Sorry, ma'am. Didn't mean to keep you out of the loop."

Shepard's expression softened. She always had worn her feelings on her fucking face. Some marine. Good thing she's a sniper. Keep the enemy from seeing it. "I'm sure you had your reasons."

"I guess I did," Ashley said with a nod. Somehow she knew they were acknowledging their fight, which she appreciated. Nothing would suck more than to actually pretend like it hadn't happened. Though where that left them, she didn't know. In her eyes, Shepard had still sold herself out to Cerberus, and that wasn't just something you said "Sorry, my mistake" about. You owned up, you did your time, and you earned the respect and loyalty of your people again.

Ashley just hadn't seen Shepard even try to do that yet. And it pissed her off, even though logically she knew it was because her former CO had been incarcerated.

"Admiral," the yeoman who'd been leading Anderson interrupted.

Anderson sighed. "Right. C'mon, Shepard, the War Council wants to see us."

They walked off without another word, but Ashley and Shepard locked gazes for a second while she passed. What Ashley saw was a rock-hard confidence that she had missed terribly since the other woman's death, and it loosened the doubt some. The doubt that Shepard wasn't Shepard, and was instead some construct, some being that was less than her best friend. Given the flurry of activity in the building, the fact that something was going down, it definitely made her feel a little more at-ease. If they had the old Shepard on it, then there was really no chance they could lose.

"You knew the commander?" Vega asked her, getting Ashley's attention back from Shepard's retreating back.

She couldn't hold back the contempt, despite the revelation she'd just had. "I used to," she scoffed, then shook her head. "C'mon, Vega. You knew I served with her, didn't you?"

He just shrugged. "Must've forgotten somewhere along the lines."

She shook her head again as she began walking. "C'mon, I've got some news to share with you."

"Oh?" he asked, falling into step beside her.

In answer she merely held up her hand, wiggling her fingers meaningfully. He looked at it for a second, glancing away, then did a double-take. Stopping, he grabbed her hand to stop her so he could gape. "Dios mío! I didn't even know you were seeing someone serious, Ash!"

She snorted, entirely pleased with his response. Her run-in with Shepard was now nearly forgotten. "I spend almost every night at a girl's apartment in the slums, Vega."

He colored a little as he let her hand go. "I, uh… thought that was just a fuck buddy…"

She just gave him a sardonic look. "Well, she's not. She's my girlfriend. Or, was my girlfriend. Now, she's my fiancée." Just saying it made her heart flutter. A fucking schoolgirl. Jesus, Ash, get your shit together.

"So you proposed last night, then?" he asked as they started walking again.

"No. She actually proposed to me. I'd been thinking about it, but… well, that's a lot to ask of a non-com, you know?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I do. It's why I haven't been serious with anyone in a while."

She nodded her own understanding. "But she asked, and she knows what she's asking, what she's signing up for. She's literally asking for it, in as non-rapey a way as possible."

He chuckled before asking, "So is it that girl you brought along drinking a few weeks ago? I can't quite remember her face."

It was Ashley's turn to color a bit. "It's kind of an open secret, because she's, uh… well, she's on the retrofit team…"

"And technically under your command. Yeah, I can see why you would be careful about it. But now that you're engaged it won't matter. Especially since the ship's almost ready for the black."

She blinked stupidly for a moment. "You… you really don't care?"

Vega shrugged. "Why would I care about that? You do your job, you get shit done. As long as she's not on the ground with you, it's not really a danger, right?" He shrugged again. "It's your business. Besides, the rule's still on the books, but it's not enforced unless it's that kinda situation."

She nodded. "That's why we're not super secretive, just quiet. It's not enforced, but the right – or wrong – people would certainly frown on it. I'm just gettin' over the Williams Curse. I don't need that kind of shit on me, especially if I'm hoping to make a little family here. Though like you say, now that we're engaged we can make it all… official and shit."

"So show me a picture or somethin', Ash. A girl can pin a girl like you down I wanna see."

She chuckled, shaking her head, but humored him, pulling up her omnitool and scrolling through the somewhat embarrassing number of pictures of Sam. A fair few were definitely not for anyone's eyes but hers, but those required a whole shit-ton of personal identification – in the form of passcodes and eye scans – in order to access, just in case her omnitool was ever snatched. It was possible to hack, of course, but unlikely to happen just for a few nudies of a nameless woman.

Finding one of her favorites, Ashley enlarged it, slowing down so Vega could get a good look. It was a morning picture of Sam, still sleepy, her hair still mussed. It was actually a screen-shot she'd taken during a morning conversation while they were still apart, when Sam was in Tokyo and Ashley was on the Citadel, when they would video-chat daily. Given the time difference, Ashley would call right before bed, acting as Sam's alarm for the morning. This meant she got the most delicious views of a sleepy, naked Samantha Traynor. They would talk as the comms specialist got dressed for her morning run – something she now did regularly instead of only in preparation for her fitness test, at Ashley's encouragement (and now that she lived off-base and could eat better food, it was a sustainable habit). This particular snapshot featured Sam in a ratty running shirt and a pair of properly fitting gym shorts Ashley had gifted her with ("in return for the shorts you stole from your brother for me," she had said at the time). Sam's eyes were half-lidded, and she was just beginning a beaming smile at some compliment Ashley had given her, making the image have a bit of a tip-of-the-tongue feeling.

"Niiiiiice, Ash," Vega murmured, smiling almost cutely. Certainly, he wasn't leering, which was… unexpected, coming from the huge flirt that Vega was. "I remember her now. Muy linda. You can see how much she likes you just from her smile."

"A poet!" Ashley exclaimed, a few different stanzas from a few different works coming to mind. Each was more eloquent than what he'd said, but still.

He snorted, shaking his head as she closed her omnitool. "Naw, Ash. I'm just a connoisseur of pretty gir-"

Suddenly, the world exploded in red fire. As Ashley fell to the ground, all she could think was that recognized that explosion, and the sound accompanying it. Sovereign.

The Reapers were here.

Ashley felt big hands grab at her, pulling her toward a solid, warm body, cushioning her fall, keeping her conscious. She blinked the dust and smoke out of her eyes even as she pushed herself up, finding that Vega had indeed saved her skull from being staved in on the edge of a desk. She helped him to his feet before pulling up her omnitool again, getting rid of the picture of Sam with a flick of her fingers before pulling up communications.

"Shit. General communications are down. Hold on."

He looked over her shoulder. "You know a work-around?"

She nodded. "Having a nerdy comms specialist for a girlfriend, you pick up a few tricks. There, that should do it."

{This is Admiral Anderson. Report in, anyone!} The sound was patchy.

"Anderson, can you hear me?" she asked into her omni, fiddling with the signal she'd hacked. Rather than a broad-band frequency, she had linked directly to Anderson's omnitool, hoping he'd be alive and able to answer.

His answer was much clearer. {Williams, is that you?}

"Yes, sir."

{What's your status?}

"I'm with Vega. We were on our way to the Normandy to check on some things. What happened, sir? Is it Reapers? I have no goddamn windows."

{Yes, Williams. The Council is dead, but I have Shepard. I can't raise the Normandy; you head there. I'll meet you at the landing zone.}

"Aye, sir," she said, patching her communications into the earbud Vega handed her before closing her omni. She then started to run full-tilt. They needed to get to the ship and open communications on it as soon as possible.

And she needed to reach Samantha sooner than that.

"We need to get outside," she huffed, Vega nodding in understanding. Luckily – though the reason for it obviously sucked – the entire floor was a goddamn fenced-in porch at this point, so finding access to the outdoors was rather easy. Not so lucky was that they were at least a hundred stories off the ground.

I have to get to Sam. I need to make sure she's okay, make sure she's on the ship. Fuck, this is why they had that fucking rule to begin with. I don't even care about all these other people right now. I just need to keep Sam safe…

Swallowing her panic down and shoving it aside was difficult, but she managed it, as she always had. Working their way down to a maintenance walkway, they were finally able to build up some speed just as Anderson's voice piped into her earbud once more.

{Lieutenant-Commander, do you read me?}

"Loud and clear, Anderson," she huffed, not bothering to keep the strain of sprinting out of her voice.

{I'm patching Shepard in.}

"Roger. We're almost to the Normandy," she said, spotting the gleaming new paintjob of its sleek hull as they rounded the corner of the outside of the dry dock's building. Pointing, she silently informed Vega to climb up the ladder ahead so they could run along the top of the embarkation tube, allowing them to hail the suspended ship and get on board. "I've got Lieutenant Vega with me still. No enemies, but we've had to be clever about our routing," she huffed as she took a running leap onto the ladder herself. Vega turned when he was up, holding down one beefy arm. His giant hand closed around hers and he lifted her bodily from the ladder and placed her on her feet. Then they were running again.

{Good. We're about ffffffiiiiiiiive-ive mmmm-mmmiiinnnuuuuuutes ooooo-}

The transmission cut out. "Anderson! Anderson! Jesus fuck!" she swore. She didn't have time to stop and fiddle with their connection. She merely kept running, spying the hatch open up ahead and feeling her heart somehow begin to pound faster. She couldn't stop. She had to get to Sam.