Samantha

"So… how's Tim doing with so many people around?"

The image of Ashley smirked. {Well, nobody has any privacy, and I don't think he's ever been around so many women in his life. But, all things considered, I think he's doing okay. Work keeps him busy, and tires him out, so he's pretty mellow when he comes home. Just wants food and a vid.}

"I imagine that's easy enough to accommodate," Sam ventured. "How… how's Sarah doing?"

{Good, mostly. I mean, her husband died. I took her to this memorial spot the refugees on the docks have set up. I think that helped. But it also made it clear just how many people have died. A lot of our old friends haven't been heard from. And I've been trying, but even with Spectre access, I haven't found anything on your parents. I'm sorry, baby.}

Samantha sighed, rolling over onto her side. "I know, Ashley. It's okay. I think I just need to accept that it's going to take a miracle to actually hear from them on their tiny little colony, and be grateful we got Tim to safety." Sam hesitated over the next part. She'd been trying so hard to ignore it, to keep busy and active and away from her worrying brain for the last week and a half, since Ashley first got in contact with Sarah. Because if she gave it thought, she would break down, and there was no one on this ship she was close enough with for that. But now… if she couldn't break down in front of her fiancée, then she was doomed.

"Ashley, I don't think we're going to find them," Sam opened, sniffling a little. She could feel the tears coming. She let them. "I think they're dead, or they will be by the end of all this. But, we all might be dead by the end of this. Or so many people dead that nobody alive has any family left." Tears were now streaming down her cheeks, but her voice was magically still audible, steady. I should have planned this better. I have no tissues. "I don't think I'm going to see them again, Ashley. I think everyone in that apartment of yours is—" She paused, letting out a quiet sob, the steadiness of her voice finally gone. "I think that's all the family I have left. We have left."

{Oh, baby…} Ashley frowned in sympathy. {I can't… I wish I could hold you.}

Samantha let out a little laugh through her tears. "Me, too."

Ashley let her cry for a minute to two, just watching and nodding and holding her hand out to touch the screen that held the image of Samantha's face. The comms specialist could almost feel the ghost of those fingers wiping her tears away.

Finally, Ashley spoke, and her words demanded Samantha listen closely. {I joined the military because it's in my blood. But once I actually saw combat… It's fucking scary, Sam. It's not like in the vids or the games. You can't see the whole field. You can't pause it to see what your next tactical move should be. You can't fucking start over if you die. War isn't glorious. Victory, the successful defense of your people... there is glory in that. But war itself is blood and pus and piss and shit and mud in your boots and your bra with no hope of a shower or a hot meal until you're extracted from the field.}

Ashley paused, holding Sam's eyes for a moment, seeing that her tears had abated for the moment. {I stayed after the hell of Eden Prime, after the cries of the dying and the bodies up on the dragon's teeth and the absolute fucking fear the likes of which I'd never known before—or since—because while war is not glorious, it is a necessary evil. Someone will make war upon us, and we need those willing to risk dying in order to defend against them. After that hell, I stayed because I was willing to risk dying in order to keep the people I love innocent, to keep them away from that hell and those nightmares and that whole and utter terror. And it kills me that now you're out in that hell and I'm here, in my nice apartment on a sterile space station, sitting on my ass and enjoying my family—and your family— while you're alone on the Normandy. I'm so sorry, Sammy.}

Despite all the things Ashley had said, about the carnage and the fear and the hell she'd been through, it made Samantha smile. She wiped her eyes, sniffed long and loud—she still had no tissues—and nodded. "Right. Well. I guess I'm just going to have to be the brave hero who fights to keep my family safe. Keep you safe."

Ashley grinned. {That's the spirit.}

"Thank you, Ashley. You always know just what to say.

{It's a gift.}

"My poet," Sam said with a smile. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and forced herself to ask, "So what kind of shenanigans are you all up to?"

{Well… Oh, man, you need to hear about what Sarah and Tim got up to the other day…}

Samantha sat in the mess with Diana, who was swiftly becoming a friend. They hadn't gotten drunk again, and Sam was thankful for that. She liked to stay in charge of all her faculties, especially around a woman who might (Right! Sure. Like I believe it.)—probably not, but might— be interested in her. She had to keep her relationship to herself, meaning she could not claim to be spoken for. She didn't want to scare this woman off—she could really use the friendship of someone who was not a damn marine like James and Shepard—but at the same time, she had to remember that Diana was here in her capacity as a journalist.

It was best left to Sober Sam to navigate.

"Any idea when we'll be on the Citadel again?" Diana asked her hopefully.

Sam shook her head, moving her chess piece. "No idea."

"Aww, c'mon, aren't you and Shepard bosom buddies?"

"Contrary to that arse Rajad's assessment of the situation, no, we are not 'bosom buddies.' We're friends, and I'm her subordinate before I'm her friend. She doesn't share classified information with me." Unless Sam was watching and communicating during a ground mission, but Diana didn't need to know that.

"And it's classified information, when we'll be docking next at the Citadel?"

"Really?" Samantha asked in a sarcastic drawl, fixing Diana with a sardonic look. "You really think it's wise to broadcast when the Normandy SR-2, the only stealth vessel of its kind, stolen from Cerberus and given to the Alliance Navy, will be docking at the center of all intergalactic government? During a war with the Rreapers?"

Diana sat with her mouth open for half a second before snapping her jaw shut and rolling her eyes. "Point taken." She reached to move a holographic chess piece. She was atrocious at this game, but the mere fact that she would play with Sam had raised the woman in her estimation by at least twenty points.

"Why so eager to get back to the station?" Sam asked.

Diana's hazel eyes narrowed. "I thought I was supposed to be the nosy one?"

"We're friends!" Sam laughed, making her own chess move. "I get to be nosy with my friends, don't I?"

"I know how scuttlebutt on a ship works, Sam," she retorted.

"So it's something worth gossiping about, then?"

Diana frowned. "I'm not that easy, you know. I'm a journalist. I know the tricks. And you are way not sneaky enough to ferret it out of me."

Samantha pursed her lips. "Right, well… Checkmate."

"Dammit."

"What are you nerds doing? Seriously, Sam, you've got the hottest girl on the ship, and you're playing chess?" Joker pushed himself roughly onto the bench next to Samantha. "I guess you can't do more, given—" Sam slammed her foot down on Joker's, only his steel-toed boot saving him from multiple fractures. He got the point, however, and changed what he'd been saying. "—you, uh, shouldn't be hooking up with anyone on the ship," he finished, somewhat lamely.

Diana looked perplexed, but didn't seem to pick up that Joker had been about to say something else. Or she really was as good as she said she was and hid it very well. "Really, Joker? What if I was putting the moves on her? You're just gonna ruin everything saying shit like that."

Samantha snorted a laugh.

"Well, were you putting the moves on Sam? It's the only reason I would be playing chess. Sober, anyway."

Diana immediately got a coy look. "Wouldn't you like to know? I bet that fantasy would give you a nosebleed."

Samantha blushed, Joker's jaw dropped to the table, and Diana just smirked. "Right. Good to know I'm right." She looked to Sam. "I have to go get some work done. Maybe a piece on the insatiable lusts of Alliance pilots?" She got up and headed for the lift, her hips swaying perhaps a bit more than was necessary.

"So… what the hell was that about, with the trying to break my damn foot, Sam?"

Samantha sighed. "Sorry. I forgot about…

"That my bones are basically made of glass?"

"Yes. Sorry, Joker. But, I'm not telling Diana about Ashley."

He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "Yeah, I got that much. Why not? 'Cuz if James is right, she wants you, but if I know Williams, she's not gonna share."

"That is an accurate summation of both what James thinks and how Ashley feels. And how I feel. I don't want Diana, even if she is interested, which I doubt. She's… not my type. She makes a good friend, though."

"So why keep her in the dark about Ash?"

Samantha sighed again, packing up her chess set. There was no way in hell Joker would play a round with her, even drunk, which he was not. "Ashley's going to be the second human Spectre, Joker. And on top of that, she's been with Shepard from the beginning, was the sole survivor of her unit on Eden Prime, and was injured on Mars, which is still as classified as it can get."

Joker nodded. "Yeah, I got all those emails telling us to shut the hell up about Mars, too."

Samantha leaned on one hand on the tabletop, looking to Joker sitting next to her. "Right. So, I guess I'm trying to protect her. She's still recovering from a broken neck. She'll be on the ship eventually, I'm sure of it. I'll let her manage herself with Diana then."

"Have you told Ash about Diana?"

Samantha's only answer was to look away, her face hot. She had not mentioned Diana to Ashley. And she wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was because she wasn't sure if Ashley would actually get jealous. Perhaps it was because the friendship was so new. Perhaps it was because the easiest way to protect Ashley was to simply not tell her that she was protecting her from a reporter.

Or maybe Samantha was enjoying the attention. That possibility made her a little sick to think about.

Joker whistled low. "You shouldn't do that, Sam."

"Ugh, I know. I'll tell her. Soon. I just… I don't know." She looked back to Joker. "Why'd you join us, anyway?"

"Oh! Right! Cards with James and Steve. C'mon! We're late. They've got beer and the cards have naked people on them. Something for everyone."

Samantha rolled her eyes, but agreed. If none of them could get laid, at least they could do stupid, immature things like play poker with naughty cards, right? Stowing her chess set in her locker, she joined Joker on the lift heading for the shuttle bay.

"Hey, Traynor."

Sam turned to see Alexandra Halanz had come to relieve her a few minutes early. She held a steaming mug of coffee.

Sam smirked. "I thought you didn't drink coffee every day, Halanz?" she said by way of greeting.

The other woman just shrugged. "12 hour shifts will do that to anyone."

"Christ, I know. We seriously need to get that replacement soon." She looked over to the platform where EDI's holographic "voice" often popped up. "Not that I don't appreciate the help EDI throws in from time to time, but it's not like having the third person we need."

"I'm sure EDI appreciates you saying so." Halanz chuckled before taking a sip of her coffee.

"Have you seen Rajad at all?"

"Hmm? Yeah," Halanz answered, taking Sam's place at the console.

"How's he doing in the brig?"

Halanz gave her a genuinely perplexed look. "I thought you wouldn't care, Traynor?"

"Why wouldn't I care? I don't like him, but that doesn't mean I'm entirely heartless. It must be awful to be alone like that all the time, barely able to hear James and Steve through the walls when they have a particularly hilarious moment."

Halanz turned back to her station. "Yeah. It's…" She shrugged. "He's not happy. He's not happy about the courts-martial he's staring down, either. But that's what happens when you call your NCO a fucking bitch and then try to hit her in the face."

"I bet he still thinks that, too."

Halanz smiled apologetically. "Yeah, sorry. I… may have let him complain a little bit. Everyone's got to."

"I understand," Sam said, leaning against the rail leading up to the galaxy map. She considered Halanz as the woman brought up the programs she would be using. "It sounds like the two of you were close."

Halanz froze momentarily. "Yeah, we were," she evaded. Sam watched as she practically forced her body to relax. "Anything I need to know for my shift?"

"Hold on," Sam said, narrowing her eyes. "You got all… shifty. What's going on? And don't make me pull rank."

Halanz hesitated for a few seconds before seeming to wilt. "We… were sleeping together."

"Oh ho ho!" Sam rushed forward, leaning in. "Seriously? Wait. Is that how he convinced you to trade shifts with him without notifying me?"

Halanz groaned. "Yes. I knew it was against protocol, but he's technically my superior, and we were… it was after, and I just said yes."

Samantha smirked. "'After', huh? Where did you do it?"

"Um… that cot under the engine core…"

"What?! Dammit, now I have to scrub myself in the hottest shower I can manage…"

Halanz snorted. "What do you do down there?"

"Make phone calls to my fiancée…"

"Dirty calls?"

"Excuse me," Samantha said, her tone all mock-seriousness. "I'll have you know that I am your superior. Technically. And technicalities are the best way of being right."

They both devolved into a fit of giggles.

Sam sobered relatively quickly. "In all seriousness, Halanz, be careful about that sort of thing. I don't like Rajad and while I'm not going to tell you to stop seeing him, he's getting booted off the ship…"

"Oh, we aren't seeing each other. It wasn't… serious. Just blowing off some steam right after the Rreapers and all that, you know?"

Samantha nodded. "Yes. I suppose I can understand that. Any chance for a human connection. But still. Rajad?"

"I know." Halanz heaved a sigh before continuing. "He was charming just long enough to get into my pants. Then, if we weren't... together, he was annoying the hell out of me. I was too shy and nervous to say anything, though, and he was the only one I'd made any kind of connection with at first. But I've made a couple of friends now. I was thinking of ending it the day he was thrown in the brig, but I guess you guys decided that for me."

"I'm glad you're making friends. I have, too. It makes a world of difference, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. It really does. Who have you been hanging out with while I've been working?"

Sam sighed. "The ever-obnoxious James and Joker. Steve is less annoying, but also more subdued—he's hard to pull into a conversation. All about work, even when he's not on duty. Oh, and Diana Allers, the ANN journalist who's on the ship."

"Damn, Traynor. Those are some lofty friends. They go out on the field and shit. I've just been hanging out with Westmoreland and Copeland. They're good for me, though. You hang out with Shepard. That's way too nerve wracking for me."

"I make you nervous, Halanz?"

Both communications specialists immediately jumped to attention, turning to find Shepard had snuck up behind them. And now stood smirking at them both. Halanz had even sprung into a salute. Sam was slower to salute, hers not coming from a place of utter terror like Halanz.

"At ease, both of you." Shepard crossed her arms. "You know, James was saying something along those lines when I found him at Purgatory the last time we were on the Citadel. Am I really that intimidating?"

Halanz looked to Samantha uncertainly. Sam just sighed. "To people who don't know you? Yes, Commander. You're a bloody legend."

"So what about people who know me?"

Samantha smirked. "You're as much of a buffoon as Ashley Williams." She paused, then added, "Commander."

"Right. Well. I guess I just need to keep buying people drinks, then." Her eyes shifted back to Halanz. "Next time I see you, drinks are on me, Halanz. Can't have my crew too afraid to talk to me." She winked.

"Yes, Commander," Halanz squeaked.

Shepard walked away shaking her head.

"You really need to lighten up, Halanz," Sam said, picking up the woman's coffee and handing it over. "Shepard's a nice person. She's a flirt and I hear she can't dance to save her life, and we're all slogging through this the best we can. Take her up on the drink. I promise it helps."

Halanz merely nodded, turning back to her work station. Sam shook her head, turned, and got on the lift. A tepid shower – the best she could hope for – was calling her name.