For Stan. Where would we have been without you?
The Strip, Lakeside District, Block 1500 (Midward), Tayseri Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 16, 2183
Author's Note: There will be a 'ladies night out' at an establishment generally oriented for bachelorette parties. It is meant for humor, and hilarity will ensue.
So yes… I'm taking you to a strip club a la Magic Mike-style. They were in the game, after all. #SoDoingThis
Captain Jane Catherine Shepard (SAN, N7, OST) was off doing her favorite personal hobby; antiquing.
Jane was sifting through the bin and crates of an antique store with Petty Officer (Second Class) Sara Elaine Ryder for some daytime activities, the Navy Corpsman's lover Professor Irissa T'vara mediating through several meetings as the Dean of Prothean Research and Studies at the University of Serrice, the wake and aftermath of the events at Therum giving her difficulties from investors and financiers who had donated for the expedition and were pretty much looking at zero return. The Asari Matriarch pretty much had to convince skittish rich people that the peanuts that she got could in fact be gold nuggets while trying to convince Systems Alliance authorities to let the Serrice Expeditionary Team return to Dig Site Alpha for the equipment and finds they were forced to leave behind. Unfortunately, with the attacks on Eden Prime, Therum, and now Feros, any kind of scientific endeavor looked grim in the near future, not to mention the damn near total loss of the Fourth Fleet following the the Battle of LaGrange Point Two (Feros) and what happened on the Earth Alliance Carnival Corporations' ACV Horizon. Jannie felt for Irissa, she really did. The few times that she got to have talking to the Matriarch had showed the Professor to be a very different vein than her kin, in a rather pleasant manner.
Irissa had gone out of her way to help Jannie with the effects of the Prothean Beacon from Eden Prime, helping taking away the near-blinding migraines she was suffering and the restless days-long nightmares she seemed to have but not quite remember every night. Shepard had been a wreck in those days following Eden Prime because of it, and Irissa had gone out of her way to help Jannie. The N7 hadn't been thrilled with the thought of having to meld with an Asari (at all) but understood that there was likely no other option unless she wanted the effects to get worse and spill into a coma or lose her damn mind. The process had taken four hours in real-time, though in her mind Jannie felt like she had been stuck in some sort of limbo for weeks. Yet… the Professor had done it, had eased the issues that the redhead was suffering. No longer was she plagued with crippling headaches and extremely intense nightmares. Every once in a while, she'd get a nice wallop of a headache right behind the eyes, but those usually went away within an hour. Her dreams were still messed up, but the intensity of them had been reduced significantly, and Shepard was able to actually get sleep.
And Sara was pretty much slowly falling head-over-heels for the Asari. Jannie would have had a problem with that before, but… Irissa really was good to her best friend. The thought of their relationship continuing and deepening didn't really bother her, and Shepard wondered if they were talking about 'the future' for them. It wouldn't be easy for them, considering their professions.
"Don't you already own a few models of that?" Sara asked, her tone rather non-plussed as Jannie held in her hands a classic Rock'em-Sock'em Robot Game, both of the fighting models in very good condition, and all four grips still having their finger-depressing buttons working. How the old game survived two hundred years and made its way to the Citadel was beyond the redhead's imagination, but it was certainly a cherry find for such a collectible.
"Y'know, with modern technology, you could easily recreate this game and make a killing." Jannie replied to her friend, all smiles as Sara snorted and shook her head as she, too, sifted through a storage bin that contained some of the classic tech from decades past. "I bet having dueling robots beating the crap out of one another would be quite popular in a year or two when the Geth War is over."
"Gotta get a toy manufacturer willing to risk that venture." The Academy Alumni replied as she pulled out a PlastiGel-crafted device that looked to be a simplified version of a six-stringed instrument that fell out of popularity almost a century before. "What's this? Looks like a really crappy electronic guitar. I can't even tell where the LiFi is at." Sara looked at the plastic item with its four colored buttons on the neck and toggle in the middle of the body.
"It's a Guitar Hero controller." Actually, that boggled her even more than the Rock'em-Sock'em Robots. They were a fad that spawned a whole bunch of games during the early 21st Century, falling out of vogue after a few years after so many games had flooded the genre in a short period of time and people losing interest quickly. "People who wanted to be musicians without learning a musical instrument had a bunch of color-coded games they could pretend to play music to."
"Lame." That Jannie snort. "Look, another Samsung Galaxy. Didn't these things double as paperweights?" The Corpsman had a flat, black rectangle pinched between two fingers, the screen cracked and the body showing a great deal of wear-and-tear. Physical cell phones went out the airlock with the discovery of optronics and holographic Haptic technology with the discovery of the greater galaxy in the wake of the First Contact War. The model Sara was holding was a 2142 Samsung Galaxy Elite 32s, but the younger woman had never seen an actual cell phone, having been born on the Cit and lived upon it for the mass majority of her life. Hell, cell phones had been almost completely phased out by the time Sara had been born.
"It would make an interesting coaster." There was sadly little value or worth in old microelectronic technology, and little to be used with printed schematics being so much easier and more efficient instead of flexible circuit boards and integrated electronics. About the only things of worth in the device would be the microprocessors and the thumb-sized battery pack that could store a megaWatt of capacitance. Jannie had dozens of those items for her tech-hobbies creating and crafting items the suit her needs and creativity. "Sara, kinda got a… question to ask." The brunette looked to her as Jannie tried to keep her face smooth but failed, the Corpsman seeing her wince.
"Uh oh." Ryder smiled, way too smart for her own good. "What's his name?"
"Does it have to be a guy?" Jannie asked pointedly. Sara put the old cell phone back, folded her muscular arms across her Cit-attire robed chest, and stood in a you're not fooling me stance as she looked at the redhead with some sass. "Okay, it's a guy."
"The na-aaaame…" The twenty-year old sing-songed, her smirk growing bigger. If possible. Jannie winced again. Sara's probably going to kill me for this.
"It's Mark."
Sara's face slowly oozed into a double-take, looking at her with a look that was somewhere in between disbelief and incredulity.
"As in… Mark Vanderloo? Your ex-husband?" Sara asked pointedly, going in for the theoretical kill. "Are we talking a little moment of weakness and a peck on the cheek? Or are we talk you falling into a bed and him falling on top of you?"
"Kinda more… the second one." The N7 replied, wincing again. It smacked of stupid on so many levels, Jannie knew. You weren't suppose to hook up with an ex, though Lord knew probably a good quarter of people broke that little rule at least once. Then there was the fact the Mark was her direct subordinate. It was hard enough as is being a woman in the Navy, though as the redhead understood it, her and Sara's generation had it a lot easier than women in the past. When she had walked in on her husband with another woman in their apartment, Jannie had gone apocalyptic, throwing them both out physically into the hallway and out into the Arcturus Station Proper sans anything, shutting and locking the door with them nude in public while Shepard broke down and cried hard. It had been seventeen-year old Sara she had went to, her young friend holding her and comforting her as Jannie finally broke down and sobbed out the story as Ryder held her. She couldn't even see or think of Mark without that rage or that pain boiling to the surface those first few months. Jannie had filed for divorce with a broken heart, realizing how few memories and days she could recall with her husband, actually counting them and realizing they had spent only a fifth of their marriage together, and the longest period together had been something like three weeks. Out of four years.
She had made the same mistake her mother made.
"Jannie…" Sara looked at her for a moment before she moved in, slipping her arms around the redhead and holding her. "You know I'll be there for you, and I'll support you whichever way you go." Shepard put her arms around the younger woman and held her, remembering those days when it was she that needed Sara, that young woman who had looked up to her and seen her at her worse and never lost faith. "Just at least tell me that sleeping with Mark was the end cap of a really nice evening and not just you grabbing him and ptoinking him."
"Ptoink?" Jannie never heard that term, but she figured it out easily enough. "Dare I ask who uses that? I know vrack and shurl from the Turians' lexicon thanks to you, but 'ptoink'?"
"It's… ah, Volus." Jannie just had to look down at her friend with a slightly horrified expression.
"Did you just reference the Volus in regards to my sex life?" The redhead asked incredulously, making the young woman blush a little. "I can't believe you just had Volus and sex in the same sentence in regards to anything dealing with me."
"Awww, could return the favor you gave me when I graduated the Academy." Sara's eyebrows popped up twice suggestively, more than a little humor in her voice. Jannie knew exactly what the Corpsman was implying.
"That's a terrible thought, kiddo." Jannie snorted as she took a step back, regarding her friend. "So full of disaster it doesn't even beg explanation. Make it a ladies' night?"
"Saddle up the lady Normandiers for a night of trouble?" Ryder suggested, her smirk getting even bigger. "Just don't let them in on it. It's so much better when it's a surprise. Like what you did with me."
"I really didn't hear you complain once you got through the front door, squirt." Shepard laughed, making Sara scowl at the pet nickname. "I can see this going wrong on so many levels. Which is what makes it fun. The guys will be jealous."
"Please! I don't doubt Ballsack and Lapdance have already been kicked out of two establishments already." The Corpsman waved off the possibility. "Guys go for the possibility. Girls?" Sara waggled her eyebrows again. "We go for some fun. Ten Credits says we get Tali to pop her faceplate and make Liara blush neon."
"Ten Credits says you'll have to drag Monica through the front door as she makes every excuse in the book not to go in." The N7 smirked. Oh yeah, this would be a night of trouble; exactly what they needed. "Same place as before?"
"Yep." Sara smiled. "Let me Chirp Irissa and let her know what's up. Don't need that kind of drama in our lives."
Lollipops' Fashion Entertainment Review, Sublime District, Block 2200 (Lower Ward), Tayseri Arm, Citadel, Widow System, Serpent Nebula, July 16, 2183
"Let me get this straight. We're going to a strip club." Sergeant First Class Ashley Madeline Williams stood in front of the location that Captain Jane Shepard and Petty Officer Sara Ryder had brought the group of 'lady' Normandiers to, the Colonial Soldier looking at said location, and then right at Sara. "You brought us to a titty bar." Poor Doctor Liara T'soni looked mortified at the thought while Seaman Monica Negulesco was blushing so hard she could have served as a taclight. Tali'Zorah nar Reyya was trying to wave her hands at the thought while Niki'Raan nar Tombay latched onto her arm, pulling the purple-clad Pilgrim closer to the location in question while both Dravens cousins, Rosamund and Tabitha, looked faintly amused. Corporal Jeanette Vasquez was just shaking her head and smiling wryly while Ensign Novalee 'Nova' Reid and Lieutenant (junior grade) Vanessa Steele were all smiles, hand-in-hand on their impromptu honeymoon at the Cit. Marshal Samantha Collins was just throwing up her hands in surrender while Agent Zevin Raeka looked rather interested. But the best expression belonged to Commander Karen Chakwas, the Doctor actually having a wry smile.
"It's not a titty bar, Ash." Sara corrected the Soldier. "First off, you can't have strip clubs on the Cit, so they're fashion entertainment reviews; think runways with a lot less clothing involved. Usually something on an ankle or on the shoulders." Adios snorted at that. "Second of all? It isn't a titty club.
"It's a stud bar." The Corpsman revealed with a smile.
That had the females look at Ryder as realization dawned on most of them. Some had already known what fashion entertainment review meant, likely.
"Weren't you bitching earlier about Chora's Den, Ash? Ten thousand light years from home just to see a bunch of guys drooling over strippers or some such thing?" Auntie came to her rescue, folding her arms and giving the soldier a smile. "Now it's your turn. But we're going to have fun."
"What the hell, let's go studdin'." Vas said, nudging Nugee as the Hospital Corpsman blushed even more furiously. "Go get you a private showing if you want."
"But I've never-." The young woman squeaked, gasping and covering her own mouth before she could go much further with that statement.
"Uh oh." Able Seaman Tabitha Dravens announced, bumping shoulders with her cousin Rosamund. "Now we have to do it."
"Like you needed any encouragement?" Rosamund returned, the LADAR Technician teasing the Logistical Supplyman.
"Wait, how many of you never seen a naked male? In real life." Auntie asked, and there were four hands raised; Liara (sheepishly), Monica (even more sheepishly), Tali (whose hand was being hoisted by her cousin), and Nova (who was actually smirking a little). "Oh yeah, we should go. And I'm fronting the bill, so I don't want to hear excuses."
With reluctance from some and the amusement of others, the lady Normandiers took over a fashion entertainment review.
Lollipops' was situated just off the main boulevard of the 2200 Block of the Lower Wards of the Sublime District of the Tayseri Arm, built in the 'entertainment' area where one could find bars, dens oriented for gambling, legal narcotics clubs, and even hotels that had legal prostitution for the Sub-Block and that Sub-Block only; where the district inherited its name. The location itself was nestled in between one of those very hotels and a narcotics lounge that catered towards relaxation, the area very well-policed and clean as its appeal was directed towards good, clean entertainment and anyone violating the rules were generally pounced upon by the many different private security firms that kept the area well-protected and maintained from miscreants or the many 'organized' businesses that sought to make a profit or edging their businesses from the local dealers and establishments. Lollipops' was glamorous without being glitzy or crass, owned by an Asari Matriarch who specialized in entertainment venues and endeavors throughout CitSpace. This had been the same establishment that Auntie had taken Sara to when she graduated from the Presidium Academy of Education, a sort of 'joke' graduation gift that marked her as being a true adult. The redhead had practically dragged the eighteen-year old the last time, at least until she got inside. Considering Humans were considered legal adults at fifteen on the Cit (thanks to the Turians and not wanting to deal with the confusion of 'Human hatchling laws' that even hiccuped in Earth Alliance Space), Auntie breezing an eighteen year old Sara into a fashion entertainment review establishment when she wouldn't have been old enough to go into a ladies' strip club in Vegas didn't even turn heads. The fourteen Normandiers entered into the establishment like a slowly-rolling assault (some willing, some reluctant) as Sara watched Auntie give the door greeter/bouncer Elcor her CitID, the Elcor greeting her with a shocked… revelation… greetings… SPECTRE… as Sara did her best to get the herd of ladies into Lollipops, knowing that half the fun would be the various reactions that would be happening in the next minute or so.
Sara wasn't disappointed. At all.
The establishment was a great many tables surrounding a runway that dominated the middle of the floor, flanked with two bars on either side. The sitting area (for the patrons) was kept darker for veil-like secrecy while the runway was well-lit while light Asari dubfusion was played through the house speakers, kept to a low ambiance so the announcer could call up the next 'model' and the patrons could converse with one another while ordering drinks from the servers. While the Asari generally dominated the market in terms of entertainers and models, Lollipops' was an establishment with diversity in mind, having members of practically every species present for whomever had whatever in mind, from their own species to something more exotic. There were no trideo viewers or holographic imagers for multiple views or so a patron could watch something else. The runway was not only center stage but the only one, and whomever was on the runway was the star of the show. Each 'fashion model' had selected and hired on a rather discerning list of qualities, and Lollipops' paid its employees very well.
It was, after all, the most popular strip club on the Cit. And it wasn't meant for riff-raff, either.
Sara entered the club last, seeing about half of the Normandiers stopping within a few steps of the entrance as they realized what they had gotten themselves into; a multi-species stud bar. On the runway was a male Drell wear a robe-like trenchcoat that was most certainly not secured to the front, showing off a rather muscled torso that was rather Human-like with pectoral muscles and abdominal muscles that could have easily been compared to a Human mans'. The Corpsman noted who was looking right at the stage as the Drell flared out the garment he wore to reveal just a little bit more, showing off the flanks of his torso and muscular hips much to the cheering admiration of the crowd sitting at tables as females of a wide variety of species gave out their opinion of the 'fashion'. It was quite easy to tell that the opened robe was the only thing the Drell was wearing.
"Wow." Rosamund commented, her brown eyes large. "You can play chess on those abs and still have room for checkers." That had Auntie snort as Monica just stared and stared, her jaw dropped open and looking like she was about to swoon.
"Let's get you to a table there, Doc." Ryder told her subordinate (whose eyes never left the Drell) as Jannie led them to a pre-subscribed table, ordered earlier in the day. Auntie had gotten them good seats, practically front and center of the runway, not even a table in the way. Lord knew how much that reservation cost (and who she had to outbid and by how much), the circular couch-like apparatus conforming instantly to various biologies (yeah, the business was that rich) as the table immediately called for a personal caterer as everyone sat on the lounge furniture, enough to sit twenty as everyone made their way to their seat. Sara practically had to lead Monica by the hand as the Drell decided to turn about and show them what Amonkirahad given him. Sara had to admit that the Drell had a very nice pose as the robe was swept to the side to show off his posterior. Tali, she noted, had a hard time not looking as well as Niki shuffled her cousin into a seat. She saw that Ash and Liara were cuddled together, the Asari still blushing, but no longer in embarrassment. Or at least not in that kind of embarrassment as the Soldier whispered something to the Maiden that made her blush furiously, covering her mouth with a blue hand to hide her smile. Good, everyone seemed to be getting into the idea that they were suppose to relax and have a good time. Raeka surprised them by queuing up her OmniTool and passing it over the table, depositing some Credits and an option for a particular 'view'.
"Wait… you can do that?" Adios asked, looking surprised as the Salarian female chose an option that had Sara almost bust up laughing.
"He does have great coloring. I want a better view." The Not-Dalatrass supplied, a smirk on her face. The order was sent and the Drell male (obviously connected to his customers' orders) complied by facing their table, sliding his hands to his hips to spread open his garment to give the ladies of the Normandy a nice full frontal and began working his hips in a rather suggestive manner. "Such a lovely shade of red." The STG Agent sighed, her dark eyes right on the Drell, her tone quite pleased. "Wouldn't mind being dipped into a pool with that one."
"Skinny-dipping or deep-sea diving?" Collins asked, a little amused. Sara was glad to see that the Marshal was looking a little better after the events of Feros and what had happened the previous night. Half of the reason they were doing this was to help out with some of the horrors that they had faced over the previous missions, to bond and help each other out with their individual struggles. The other half of the reason? Well…
"Definitely deep-sea diving." The Salarian replied, Auntie throwing her head back and laughing as Liara blushed magnificently, obviously getting the euphemism.
"I gotta ask," Vanessa Steele looked over to Sara, "but… um, where's his junk?"
"Humans are the only ones with permanently exterior sex organs, both male and female." Ryder informed the Normandy's Gunnery Chief, watching as the Drell worked his hips in a rather prominent display of some deep-sea diving.
"So… their junk is on the inside until it's time to bang?" Tabitha Dravens asked, curious. "And how does that apply to females?"
"We're the only one with external breasts." Sara informed her as the Drell strutted towards another direction, obviously getting another 'tip' to show off.
"Um, the Asari and Quarians have breasts." Nova pointed out.
"Not as you think of it, no. Not as I understand it." Niki replied. "Ours are more like storage containers of fatty tissues for lean times back when we were hunters on Rannoch. Much like a Krogan's hump. We do breastfeed, but our milking glands are inside of our chests and behind our ribcages where as Human females sit on your chests, as I've read somewhere."
"Yeah, and Asari breasts are actually accumulated Eezo tissues." Ryder replied. That had everyone looking at Liara, who realized that she was now the center of attention.
"Wait… you have Biotic tits?" Tabitha Dravens asked, her tone pure disbelief.
"That… is a rude way of looking at it." The Maiden replied, a little miffed. The Drell male was turning to leave the stage, indicating another 'reviewee' would be performing soon.
"Whenever you see Asari showing off the goods, it isn't sexual, not the way you and I think of it." Sara informed the Logistics Supplyman. "They're showing off their potential abilities. Bigger is better. Which… yeah, is suppose to lead to potentially Biotically-powerful children, but to them breasts aren't sexual." Ohhhhh… both Dravens coined as Nova smirked at Vanessa, the two wives evidently sharing some sort of perverted thought.
"How can we fill your order this Late Light?" A male Turian caterer came to their table, fourteen pairs of eyes going to the (mostly) nude Palavenian. He was wearing a belt that was suppose to emphasize his waist, and nothing else. Thankfully, his sheath was still closed, but Ryder saw Monica staring and Tali trying hard not to look but failing. He was certainly very male.
"Drinks. Whatever they want, my tab." Auntie piped up, lifting a hand to indicate herself. "And I'll take a Human Sex on the Beach."
"Meritocide." Niki was quick on that beat. She was eying the Turian, too.
"Serrice Brandy." Doctor Chakwas replied, an aire of sophistication about her. "If one is to enjoy the evening, one should do so with a proper drink." Drinks were ordered, some mixed and some exotic, Vasquez 'helping' Monica get a drink (after admitting she had never drank before) by describing said drink without giving its name. Collins was snorting when the Marine Sergeant gave the order of Bailey's, Kahlua, Amaretto, and whipped cream on top. Obviously, Negulesco had no idea that Jeanette had just ordered her a Blowjob. It made Sara think of Private Mikael Holodansk sadly. Auntie noticed, likely because of the order and how Holodansk got his nickname, and nudged her with her shoulder.
"Hey, kiddo. Check the sad thoughts at the door. We're here to help prop each other up, okay?" The redhead said to her, leaning her head so their conversation was a little more private. "Those thoughts will still be there tomorrow, sadly. But for tonight, we're suppose to have fun. So let's get wasted and prank the shit out each other."
"Yeah, you're right. Thanks, Auntie." Sara leaned her head to touch Jannie's, knowing that the N7 was right. Tonight wouldn't cure the ills of the galaxy, but it would help them a little bit. They were here to have some fun, and Sara was fully intending on getting at least three of her teammates to squawk.
"And for your viewing pleasure," the Turian female announcer came over the PA system as the music dimmed for her duel-toned voice, "a crowd favorite we haven't seen in a few months. You want the best, and tonight to showcase a line from Taraque's line of belts, let's give it up…
"…for URDNOT WREX!"
The Normandy table went completely dead silent with that.
"No… fucking… way." Ash said as the lights on the runway dimmed for a moment before fading brighter to show a very large (and very male) red-headplated, scar-faced Krogan wearing nothing but a cinch belt around his thick waist as he stood center stage in a pose that showed off his tough exterior, striking a warriors' pose that left very little to the imagination. "Dear God, is that…?" Williams was certainly pointing something out.
"Yes, it is." Karen replied, her own eyebrows up. "That is certainly… quite an impressive specimen."
"I though you said their stuff wasn't out?" Vanessa asked, unable to turn her head away.
"Unless they're excited." Sara had to blink a few times at what everyone was seeing. It wasn't hard to guess why Wrex was a crowd favorite. "Vrack, he could club somebody to death with that thing and have some left over to spare."
Auntie swiped her OmniTool over the table, smiling nastily.
"So gonna see if we came make a Krogan blush." The redhead called out, and Sara saw that ordered a particular pose known as 'the ex poise'. "Should we let him know now or have him bury his head in shame later?"
"Now!" Ash called out, grinning from ear-to-ear as the Krogan turned to the table and executed the pose, raising his arms over his hump to flex and show off ever centimeter of his impressive hide. "Pity we can't do a private showing and watch a Krogan cry! That would be epic!"
Sara turned to Ash, smirked, and swiped her own OmniTool over the table to do just that while the Turian caterer came back with their drinks, handing them out to the proper guest.
"You didn't." Raeka's lipless mouth dropped open, obviously knowing what a fashion entertainment review was for and how it worked. The Salarian certainly wasn't condoning it, either.
"Oh yeah." Ryder's grin was a parsec wide.
"We have a bid for a private viewing for our fashion model!" The announcer called out as the dubfusion quietened slightly for the Turian female to speak over the din of ladies of many species talking and calling out. "The current bid for our entertainer is set at five hundred Credits for Sara Ryder!"
The Krogan on stage practically stumbled at the mention of the name, his massive head turning left and right to find the table in question. A spotlight went onto the table in question as it lit up the ladies from the SSV Normandy as Wrex's red eyes both went on the table, Sara feeling saucy as she smiled and waved at the big game hunter, half of the other ladies at the table snickering at the Krogan's obvious surprise. Ash was laughing her head off while both Dravens were giggling like school girls. Vanessa and Nova decided that chanting out Wrex's name was a good idea as several others began joining in, Niki, Sara, Jane, Ash, both Dravens, and even Karen began adding their voices to the chant, 'Wrex! Wrex! Wrex!' being heard throughout Lollipops.
"The bid is now up to six hundred Credits." The Turian called out, ending the chant. "The current bid goes to Mirala D'lesa for a private viewing." The spotlight went to another table where a singular Asari Matron sat, grinning like a cat as the Asarikins' eyes were like daggers at the Normandiers' table.
"Oh hell no!" Ash spoke up, taking a drink of her Long Island Ice Tea before swiping her OmniTool over the table. "That's our Krogan eyecandy and you can't have him!" Niki gave a whoop of encouragement as Sam just chuckled as she silently drank her non-alcoholic Tequila Sunrise while Monica tried out her first Blowjob, declaring it 'good' and wanting another, much to the amusement to the Human females at the table (and surprisingly enough, Tali'Zorah, who seemed to know what the drinks' name was and what it meant in Human lexicon). "No way in hell we're getting outbidded by some blue hussy."
"Who are you and what the hell did you do with our Ash?" Auntie asked playfully, making Doctor Chakwas snort as she sipped at her brandy. Liara was half-buried in Ash's shoulder, but smiling sheepishly.
"The bid is now up to seven hundred credits thanks to Ashley Williams!" The announcer declared as Wrex stood on the stage, momentarily befuddled. It did not look good on a Krogan as he eyed the table the lady Normandiers were sitting at, and then the one the lone Asari sat at. The big game hunter obviously made his mind about something as he turned to show off his impressive hump, his stunted tail wagging suggestively towards the Matron as he posed in a stance that exuded masculinity.
"Eight hundred Credits to Mirala D'lesa!" There were a few cheers and whoops from the crowd as ladies from several species were getting into the scene as the music turned from Asari dubfusion to Krogan wardrums, the throbbing pounding of bass drums hitting in the rhythm of war as Wrex turned and moved towards the direction where the Normandiers and decided to demonstrate just how long his tongue was by pretending to lap something up in a long, lazy flick of the tip of his hydrostatic organ.
"That motherfucker is playing us! Son of a bitch!" Shepard howled in laughter, slapping her thigh as she cued up her OmniTool and swiped it over the interactive table. "If I'm getting hustled, then I'm getting a damn good show out of it!"
"The bid is now a thousand Credits to…," there was a slight pause to the announcers' voice, "to Jane Shepard!" There was no doubt that the female Turian recognized the name, and the crowd went silent for a moment as the Krogan on stage winked towards the Normandy table before strutting over to show off to anyone else that wanted to bid. Sara was highly amused to see Wrex bringing his arms down to show off his impressive Korogish physique, flexing to show his girth and toughness. Damn, he is good, Sara thought to herself as the Krogan worked the crowd.
"We have another bid from Mirala D'lesa!" The female Turian knew her job, working the crowd as well. Lollipops was certainly a host to a bidding war as Wrex took main stage to the feud, knowing what to do. Sara wondered if he had something like this happen to him before. Likely. "The bid is now at one point two five kiloCredits!"
"We're not going to let her one-up us, are we?" Tali squeaked, the purple-clad Quarian looking over the group, obviously coming out of her nervous shell. "We can't let Wrex be some blue's pet!"
"Hey, you're drawing an Alliance paycheck. Pony up!" Williams countered with a smile, leaning over to address the Pilgrim. Silvery eyes behind a purple face-plate regarded the Colonial Soldier for only a moment.
"And we have a bid from… a Quarian?" There was a falter from the announcer; evidently Quarians weren't allowed generally. "One point five kiloCredits for Tali'Zorah!" Wrex just looked at their table as the spotlight went to the Quarian, who meekly raised her three-fingered hand and waved nervously, obviously not too comfortable with the spotlight as the Krogan's jaw dropped open in shock. It snapped back up as the big game hunter did something different; jumping upward and grabbing an overhanging strut overhead and dangling from the nearby rafter by his three-fingered hands as he began swinging back and forth. Sara and Jannie looked at each other in confusion until they looked over at both Quarians, and saw that the female Pilgrims were just falling to pieces, clutching at each other and giggling.
"Must be a Quarian thing Wrex picked up on Rannoch once-upon-a-century ago?" Ryder said, trying to imagine how that pose or form would work out. No… she'd rather not know. Auntie just grunted at that. Okay, Wrex obviously knows his s'kak.
"TWO kiloCredits for a private viewing goes to… Nakmor Akura!" The spotlight went to a table that was hosting a Krogan female that looked to be a least a few centuries old. The Krogan with the brown crest was smirking toothsomely at the Normandiers' table while the Asari Matron looked put out, Wrex shifting his attention to the female of his kind, showing off what the Korogish Gods granted him.
"Watch this."
"Three kiloCredits for… Zevin Raeka!" The Turian obviously stumbling over what was so apparently a Salarian's name for a Krogan's private viewing, the Krogan female at the other table on the opposite side of the runway looking at their table in shock as the STG Agent decided to taunt the Tuchankan by wiggling her forefinger in a circular fashion in the Turian expression that meant go fuck ones' self. Wrex was obviously eating the attention as he moved in the direction of the Normandiers' table and did something that had Sara stunned with the Krogans' flexibility as he dipped his headplate nearly to the floor of the runway and proceeded to arch up and back and push his hips forward in a powerful thrust. Sara had only heard of that maneuver from Trauma Care Specialist Meeska Kevla; it was a sort of fertility dance that Salarian males did to impress females to get them into the breeding pools.
"Oh my. That was quite lovely." The Not-Dalatrass replied, a silly grin on her narrow face. "Didn't know a Krogan could do that." Monica was giggling as the caterer came back with her second Blowjob. Someone was going to be poured into bed tonight, Sara thought snarkily as she drain her own mojito before grabbing her second.
"The bid is now up to four kiloCredits for Mirala D'lesa!" The male Krogan began rotating his hips in a sinuous manner, showing that the eight-hundred year old Tuchankan certainly hadn't lost his touch.
"FIVE KILOCREDITS is the current bid for Liara T'soni!" Everyone just stared at the Asari Maiden who practically fled back into Ash's arms, but looking rather pleased with herself as she nuzzled into the Colonial Soldier, whispering something that had the Human female chuckling. "Do I hear another bid?" Wrex was centered to where the lady Normandiers were sitting, both Dravens chanting 'Wrex! Wrex! Wrex!' in unison as the Asari Matron at the other table looked at them with disgust. Aww, someone's reached Matriarch Dearests' credit limit, Sara whispered to her Auntie, making the redhead roar with laughter as more of the ladies at their table began joining Tabitha and Rosamund with their chant. "Going once!" The announcer cried out as even Karen Chakwas and Sam Collins got into it, clapping their hands, stomping their feet, and calling out the Krogans' name in time. "Going twice!" Every one of them were chanting, Wrex flexing his arms and nodding, obviously pleased with himself as he struck a heroic pose in front of all the customers at Lollipops.
"Complete!"
Fourteen females of a wide variety of species cheered at the victory as an Asari Matron and Krogan female sulked. Nugee was standing up and cheering, swaying a little on her feet as Vasquez was bent over from laughter.
"If the winner could approach the lead caterer so that she may be escorted to our private viewing rooms!" The announcer cried out as Liara blushed hard but was smiling just the same. "And Lollipops would like to remind everyone in the audience that private viewings are private, not group viewings."
"W-what?!" The Protheantologist stammered, her sapphire eyes going wide as she sat up in shock. "B-but…"
"Go get 'em, tiger." Sara catcalled, making the Maiden blush even harder. Ash was laughing too hard to comment.
The night wore on as the ladies of the SSV Normandy drank and 'viewed' the fashion entertainers of Lollipops, seeing no less than seven different species 'displaying' various fashion items, everything from a scarf (on a Turian), to a new OmniTool (on a Salarian). Agent Zevin Raeka had won herself a private viewing with the Salarian male, and Sara Ryder and Niki'Raan had won the Turian for Tali'Zorah, who stammered and squeaked as the Turian in question gently led the purple-clad Quarian to a private viewing room as the Pilgrim half-stammered and half-jumped at the thought of having a rather impressive-looking Turian male in a room all by herself to 'critique' his performance. When a Human man showed up to the runway, Sergeant Jeanette Vasquez had gotten a private viewing for Seaman Monica Negulesco, who blushed so hard she couldn't even speak properly as the Marine Corporal practically shoved the Hospital Corpsman to the room with a smirk as the man gently took the Sailor by the hand to encourage her, only wearing (of all things) a new line of Crocs. It was very easy to see how Lollipops got its money with the private viewing rooms and performers.
Federal Marshal Samantha Lynn Collins had to admit to herself that she had a hard time remembering when she had this much fun. And she damn near had a perfect memory.
What was it that Jane said to Sara?, the Marshal thought to herself as she watched a Hanar 'showing off' a draping that covered the head of most species as most were wont to do on the Cit despite the lack of any sunlight or rainfall. The Kahjean was evidently a popular regular (Sam couldn't see why, but that was fine) as a few tables bid on the Hanar as it spun slowly, undulating its tentacles suggestively as it walked instead of using a contragravity flotation device like most of its species. Sam wasn't here because she wanted to be at a strip club; titty bar or stud club. She knew that if she hadn't gone, she would have sulked and probably drank herself into the gutter again, and the previous night had been terrible. She had never put herself in that kind of position before, and the thought shamed the hell out of her. She never drank herself to that kind of excess before, nothing close to it. Thankfully, Seaman Monica Negulesco and Corporal Jeanette Vasquez happened to be hanging out at the same bar that Sam was trying to drown herself in booze in when they noticed her while playing billiards together, the Marine Corporal from Old Los Angeles trying to hustle some Human CitCitz while Nugee was obviously the distraction, whether she knew it or not. Sam had been black-out drunk, not even realizing that she had been tottered through the Cit completely and utterly smashed and taken back to the Normandy to sleep it off. God, she could have been kidnapped right off the station and woken up with a control collar around her neck and never would have known. Completely and utterly stupid.
Check the sad thoughts at the door, Jane had said. Tonight is about having fun with the people who do have your back.
There was another Turian male on the stage, strutting like there was a female in heat in the establishment, wearing a cinch belt that was to emphasize the musculature and proportions of the Turians' sinewy lower torso, where the plates ended and the the more tender tissues of the waist were exposed to show off the chiseled muscles and well-developed invert where the waist narrowed before it flared out to the hips. Actually, he was a rather good-looking male with a long fringe, chiseled waist, buffed plates, and graceful movements; in some ways, Turians were much like some birds on Earth when it came to males enticing females, strutting and showing their stuff in a different manner than Human Beings. Still, the sight had Collins' heart ache. He was a good-looking male, but it wasn't him.
Sam was a little surprised when Sara scooted over to her and laid her head on Sam's left shoulder, snuggling her. Doc wasn't that drunk; this was something else.
"I know that look. Wore it once myself." Ryder said just loud enough for Sam to hear over the music without announcing it for all to hear. "Made me do something stupid, too. Something I ended up regretting for months afterwards." The Navy Corpsman slipped her arms around Sam's left arm, holding onto her softly, obviously giving her some comfort. "Did you know that me and Garrus dated? I was very much in love with him, and he reciprocated."
"I figured it out about a week in on the Normandy." She was a cop, after all; cops tended to see things others missed. Sam never said a word to any of the others. She had fought her own battles when it came to being with a Turian, so she respected Sara's want for privacy concerning her private life. "Your first, I assume."
"Yes." That barely came out a whisper, the younger Human woman looking at the Turian… but not seeing the male that was on stage. "I imagine that you and I have some similarities in that regard; we both survived something terrible together. Garrus saved my life… more than that, honestly." The Corpsman had the look of bitter regret to her face as Sam looked at her, seeing at whatever memories haunted her. Jane had mentioned that Sara and Garrus had gone through an ordeal back when she was a CitEMS Paramedic at sixteen years of age, something that the Lion of Elysium didn't even know about, the Angel of Illyeria having kept it from her 'Auntie' in fear for Shepards' life. God only knew how bad it must have been, that 'Red Harvest'. Collins tried to imagine what could scare a Rapid Response Sniper and a kid famous for jumping into a warzone to look for a family member years before. She had looked up on the SPECTRE Home Office database any kind of report or request made by Detective Garrus Vakarian for the need of a Council Agent, and came up blank, which struck her as odd. Jane had confirmed that both Sara and Garrus had sent whatever it was to the Office of Special Tactics to get a SPECTRE involved. In the scheme of things, the request made by an Academy Alumni, a Special Crimes Detective, or a Rapid Response Officer would be taken quite seriously in the Office of Special Tactics, 'pushed' ahead in the queue. And Garrus was literally all three of those things.
Sam suspected something else was going on behind-the-scenes, but didn't know what, whom, or how. Then again, that would require Sara or Garrus filling her in on the details.
"Still love him?" Sam asked gently, knowing this was an awkward question at best. But hell, Jane had her ex-husband as an Executive Officer. That was beyond awkward.
"I will always love him. And Irissa knows that and respects that." The Corpsman replied as she eyed the Turian on stage, snorting. "That guy is a show off. I like mine with a bit more substance on the inside." That had Collins chuckle. She could easily tell what made Vakarian so attractive, that silent macho exterior he had going on. He wasn't the boastful sort, he just was, and that was certainly quite appealing to the females of his kind. And Firstborns. For herself, her attraction to Nihlus had been personality. Yes, he was a tough and deadly combatant, but in private he was a soul-searching male who sought to do better not for himself, but to truly help make the galaxy a better place. Sam remembered how hard it was for him not to give into the easy blatant hate that most Turians seemed to have for Humans, never admitting that they lost on Shanxi while acting like sore losers. The Hierarchy had forced its Councilor, Chamberlain, and its Primarch to abdicate over the Relay 314 Incident for multiple violations of Citadel Law, including violations of First Contact Protocols, orders of kinetic strikes against a garden world, massacring a populous without a formal declaration of war, and keeping the whole thing hidden from the Council of Law, Chamber of Governance, and the galaxy at large. Turian SPECTREs had been sent to Shanxi to quell and cull the Human populous on the colony during the shadow war, asked by their Hierarchy to fight against 'Council Law violators' while asking them to keep silent about certain transgressions on the Hierarchy's behalf. In the end, Shanxians owed their survival to a singular Asari warrior who had been hired as a favor to help combat none other than the Night Stalkers, who had proved themselves a thorn in the Hierarchy Army's side, Jynessa T'mala having contacted her own species to report what she had discovered while switching sides, fighting for Humanity in the last days of the First Contact War.
Nihlus had to work through that stigma, and he hadn't been a 314 Vet like Detective Garrus Vakarian was. Sam wondered if Sara helped change Garrus' mind like Sam did Nihlus.
That thought left when Sam saw a very prim-looking Liara scoot her way right towards the table where the lady Normandiers were sitting, making a beeline straight for Sergeant Ashley Williams, taking the Human by the hand.
"Can we go now?" Liara asked, loud enough that most all of them heard the question or got the gist of it.
"Is everything okay?" Ash asked, concerned, seeing the Asarikin trying to tug her up.
"Yes! Now… can we go now? There are some things that are best left for more private environments." The Maiden replied, both blushing and suggestive. Even Ash figured out what the Protheantologist had in mind despite having a few drinks. Or perhaps because of it.
"Well, y'all have a good evening. Don't wait up." The Colonial Solider practically bounced out out of the couch-like apparatus that they were sitting on, the Maiden practically tugging Ash towards the exit as the Human female had a rather stupid grin on her face. What they were likely about to go off and do wasn't mystifying anyone.
"I think Wrex probably spent the past hour giving her tips and advice." Sara snarked, giving her hips a little oomph to detail the kind of advice she was likely correct in guessing at. "Poor Ash isn't going to be able to walk tomorrow."
"Pretty sure she'll still have that stupid grin on her face despite that." Captain Jane Shepard replied, making Lieutenant Vanessa Steele snort. "Ash 'going blue' is about the last person in existence I'd ever guess at."
"Love can be like that." The Marshal replied softly, remembering the first time she led Nihlus Kryik to her bed, leading him by grasping his taloned hand and pulling him on top of her. For someone who had been selected into the Office of Special Tactics for their stance on Humanity by an apparent monkey-hater, being able to share a bed with one showed just how much the Turian Deathwatch Commando had changed with his time as her mentor, her partner, and her confident. His time on the MSSV Reuben Cogburn had forged a different sort of Turian, one who worked with other species other than his own, finding ways to aid some of the 'minor' species who didn't have Level Three Council Agents. It was that Turian that Sam had fallen in love with, the one who shared her heart, her body, and her soul. The day he asked to formally bond with her, Sam hadn't hesitated one second giving her answer. In her heart, she already knew what she wanted; him, in her life, 'till death did they part.
"Hey," Sara bumped her a little, "you remembered something good."
"I did. Nihlus was my first, never been with anyone else. Never wanted to or needed to." Collins told her 'sister' SPECTRE, seeing Ryder's blue eyes looking at her. "Perhaps one day in the future I'll have healed enough to consider that, but it's too soon now. Still hurts, still too fresh."
"I get that." The Corpsman replied, placing her head on the Marshal's shoulder to comfort her. "Still, at least you doing this is better than before." That was the nice way of Sara saying at least you aren't drinking yourself to death. She was right, too. Burying herself in work and booze wasn't healthy. Right here there were people that were looking out for her, being there for her. You're not alone, Sammy, Chad Gaultier told her once upon a Therum ago, when she had faced Nico Dekker and Bart Weathers and almost two dozen goons with two Deputies and a Turian SPECTRE at her side, a no-bullshit showdown shootout that had claimed Mark O'Brien's life but ended up with thirteen corrupt cops and Teamster thugs dead and the Interplanetary Brotherhood of Teamster President and the Marshal of Therum captured and arrested along with the survivors. They had all been shot, Mark having died with two shots to his lungs while Sam, Nihlus, and Chad had been shot several times as well, their armor only stopping some of it. They had almost died themselves, but had came out victorious. That day on, Sam became the Marshal of Therum while Chad stuck by her side while Nihlus Kryik worked upon getting the ship-hunter to become a SPECTRE. Before the Assault on Elysium, Sam Collins was a Level Two Council Agent, helping protect Humanity from various threats out in the black. She remembered the day she became a Level Two Council Agent, how proud she was.
How is today any different?, Sam thought to herself, looking over the people at the table in whom she served with. Sam had her own eclectic crew, hand-picked members of law enforcement that would put the fear of God (or Spirits or Goddess) into those who thought themselves above the law. Each had believed in her and Nihlus, having served with her for years, members of their species recognizing that they could in fact make a difference. And they had, a hundred times over and a hundred times again.
They would want me to continue on, to keep making that difference, Collins knew, thinking of Nysiana Velyanis, the pariah-born Turian female who had been born to a family who had a recent ancestor who had been defeated by Separatist Forces before the First Contact War, surrendering to insurgents. She had been the Bosun's Mate on the Orlop Deck to a Dreadnought when Sam first met her, the Navy janitor where the bilge pump and reclamation systems were for a ship that held four-thousand citizen-sailors. Nessie had wanted to be a Civi, a Civil Protective Services Officer of the Hierarchy, their equivalent of Sheriffs. But she had been born barefaced to a shamed family name and stuck cleaning shit ship pumps and pipes on a Dreadnought for five years of her mandatory service, so desperate to prove her value and worth. She had absolutely no police-oriented skills or qualifications save her mandatory rifle marksmanship skills, yet Sam had been touched at the fact that Nessie had gone out of her way to seek Collins out at the opportunity when the Federal Marshal had put out a few feelers for cops and law enforcement agents looking to go out in the black and serving justice. Nessie had been the first through her door, surprising Sam at the sight of a Hierarchy Sailor willing to join a Human Marshal. Sam had taken the Turian under her wing, as it were, herself, Chad Gaultier, and Mark Teller training a Turian female how to be a cop. I might have earned my way into being a SPECTRE and gotten myself a solid reputation as a cop, but there was anything I'd wish to be remembered by, it would be taken in a Turian girl and helping her achieve her dream. How many could say that of themselves?
"You smiled, I saw it." Sara said, a smile on the Corpsman face. "We need to make sure you do that a little more often, Marse."
"Yeah." Sam had hundreds of memories of her team aboard the Reuben Cogburn, working with men and women of principle and integrity, of value and worth. Remember them for that, that's what they deserves, the Federal Marshal thought to herself, and in her mind she saw the decks of that Turian Hierarchy Bird of Prey-Class Corvette, crewed by the brave and the just. Those had been days that were filled with hard work, but satisfying, too. God forgive me if I was ever curious as to how war tasted. But Humanity needs us; needs us strong and together. Not that I need to tell Jane how to be an N… but I'm the closest thing she'll ever have to a mentor. Sara would follow her Auntie to the very depths of hell, and I can see those two getting tossed back out, the Devil too afraid of them. This crew has in fact done just that, no matter the enemy or the course. If she were to stumble and fall, Jane and Sara would take that hard, feeling as if it were their fault, as if they had failed one of their own. You can do this, Sammy, Chad had told her when she had been initially offered to become the First Human SPECTRE, an undercover Agent of the Council. Someone needs to show them the way, to show them what a Human can do.
It's up to you how, her partner had said, and she had believed him. Years later, and it was still true.
"Uh oh." Captain Jane Shepard spoke up with amusement, her green eyes obviously having spied something as Sam looked over to see little Seaman Monica Negulesco shuffling over to the table where the lady Normandiers were sitting and drinking, the young woman looking both flushed and excited… and embarrassed? "Ten Credits says she's leaving early."
"You're on, La Capitan." Corporal Jeanette Vasquez replied as the Hospital Corpsman approached Chief Ryder with a blush to her face, looking sheepish as hell.
"Um… Chief? Can… um… you spot me some money?" The young woman squeaked out, getting a rather amused look from Sara as Sam looked over to see… huh, wasn't that the guy that Jean had 'hired' to do a personal viewing of his Crocs (supposedly) for Nugee? He was actually wearing a civilian Cit robe now… off the clock?
I guess there's going to be a bit more of an in-depth private showing in the next few minutes, the Marshal thought with some amusement.
"How much do you need?" Collins asked, seeing Monica stammer and blush her way through the answer before the Marshal smiled and credited the Corpsman a kiloCredit from her personal account, no doubt to secure some lodgings for the night. Negulesco was practically effervescent in her gratitude as Sam shooed her off, unable to stop the grin from growing on her face as Monica slipped away, the gentleman-in-question slipping her arm into his before leaving Lollipops. First time's going to be with a fashion model; not bad, kid, not bad at all.
"I would have easily given her the money, Marse." Sara said with a smile. "You didn't have to do that." But Sam thought of that very morning, waking up to a hangover and a Post-Traumatic Stress moment, bawling out her soul and begging to die while Monica held the Marshal in her arms, the Corpsman holding onto her and keeping her together. She owed Doc.
"Yeah, I kinda did."
Author's Notes: I can't believe I spent 7,500+ words at strip club based off of Magic Mike, more or less.
I bashed a few technological things of our era, specifically Guitar Hero and the Samsung Galaxy. Mostly because I thought it would be funny. God, how many different Guitar Hero/Rock Band games/DLCs were there? To think I now do Just Dance with my daughters.
For those who've wondered who I'm shipping Shepard with, I just went with what should have been rather painfully obvious since about End of Watch, III ever since I introduced Mark Vanderloo. C'mon, most of us have broken that one rule (it's like… Commandment 13: Thou Shall Not Sleep With Ex'es. You know, the one Mel Brooks dropped back in History Of The World, Part I?).
The Sublime District on the Cit is based off of that one block we've all heard about for years in Amsterdam; y'know, the one where you can pretty much like shoot heroin while snorting a line off of a prostitute legally? Canon supports that Turians are allowed to use narcotics as long as it doesn't effect work performance (and considering that I live in Seattle where weed shops are every-fucking-where unfortunately, along with our ever so awesome Goddamn meth problem, gee horray!). This was originally slated for A Fox Amongst The Wolves and makes its way here. Who needs drug dens when you've got a city block devoted to this shit? #StraightEdge
Wrex sidelining as a fashion entertainer model was just fun. 800 years old, and he still knows how to have some fun. Bet you've never seen that in another fanfic. Having a ladies night out was actually a pretty fun write, and I banged out this chapter pretty quickly considering. The bidding for Wrex was out of sheer amusement and hilarity, as all four games had 'entertainment' clubs where dancers could be found. Funny enough, I think there is only one instance of a male dancer; a Salarian in that little bar/club in Kadara Basement.
Mirala D'lesa? Yes, read that first name again. You know who this is. #Sexpire
In The Fury Of Our Maker's Hand, Marshal Sam Collins was going to have her own private Corvette-Class vessel to gutterstomp bad guys. The name of the vessel was to be the MSSV Reuben Cogburn, nicknamed 'the Rooster'. This is the name of John Wayne's most famous part from the movie True Grit, in which he won his only Academy Award for.
No, Monica wasn't getting money to pay for the guy. It's for a room. o.O