Summary: Leave on the Citadel gets off to an interesting start all around, a bad morning with Udina improves quickly for Shepard. After an impromptu mid-day breakfast with Joker leaves Kaidan in a contemplative mood, the violet-hued views of the Citadel again prove a stunning backdrop for risky revelations.
a/n: Hugs and kisses to LadyA and Chy for their continued assistance.
18 Hiding in Plain Sight
/1/
Anderson's evaluation of her work thus far was much kinder than the Council's, though Udina tended to mimic phrases and sentiments the galactic leadership leveled at her as if he had been privy to the conversations. Though the Captain had been a touch upset with her over cutting the comm link after Therum, she merely explained the impetus and that she wanted to make it clear to the Council that she would not allow them to cast aspersions at her crew. It was an argument he could not really find fault with. She thought about talking to Anderson about her newest burden of command, but changed her mind. Instead, she just wandered around the Presidium.
She found herself leaning against the balustrade of the walkway just below the mass relay statue in the middle of one of the artificial lakes on the presidium. Shepard just stared at the water, barely attentive to the low hum that seemed to emanate from the piece of art nearby. Her mind ran circles around her heart, as she tried to resolve an issue she was not quite sure how to deal with.
Thinking back on the scene from that morning, her standing there with her uniform blouse in her hand with Liara following with her coffee cup, made her groan inwardly. Maybe she worried over nothing. The insinuation of that little scene could very well have handled the situation for her. But her mind still centered around that encounter, around the confused look on his face as she looked back up at him for that split second before she walked away with barely a word. Shepard could only imagine what he must have thought. And it pained her to think she might have hurt him.
Leaving him there speculating about the scene that played out was cruel, but she did not know how to deal with her own feelings, let alone the revelation about his. Nyx's past "relationships" really weren't. She jokingly told Lin a long time ago that she was "just one of the guy's." And at times she acted the part. Neither virtuous, nor promiscuous, there were few attachments in her past, but only one she had the gall to call an actual relationship-Kevin Donnelly, when she was eighteen. He might have loved her, and she had cared about him, had enjoyed being around him. But she wanted her career more than a big-hearted, doe-eyed farm boy from the colonies. That was what it had always came down to for Shepard-her career, the mission, the priority objective-and at eighteen her priority objective had been special forces not hearth, home, and family.
Neil came close to relationship status. He always joked that his interest was like hero worship-she had saved his life on Elysium. But after a few years of seeing her for a day or two during leave, even he had started to want more. He told her he could get used to waking up next to her. The next morning Shepard made sure she was not there when he awoke. He was beautiful and he was sweet, but she could see nothing more with him than they already had. For her he existed in that limbic space, not quite a friend, but also not someone she could fall in love with either. He was just there, comfortable, and a little bit adoring.
Walking out on him was a no-brainer. Shepard left his apartment in Dallas and returned to the only real man in her life at the time, her Command Chief-but her relationship with Dave Jensen was a strange combination of paternal and fraternal that never crossed either line. She did not see Jensen in a romantic way. To her he was just the chief, eventually he became her friend and she came to be able to tell him anything without fear of judgment, much like she had Tali'Zorah. And he and Caz were probably the only two people truly familiar with both sides of Nyx Shepard: the woman and the marine.
Shepard thought about trying to get in touch with Lin, but she knew what her friend would say. Lin Apraxin would be giddy and happy that Nyx was showing more than just a carnal interest in someone. Then her advice would likely be to throw caution to the wind and go for it. Any officer she knew well enough to ask would suggest the opposite, not worth blemishing two fine careers over something that could just be a fling.
But what if there's more to it? Nyx was almost certain what she felt could be something viable. She shook her head. Flings had never made her question her goals. Alenko made her ask questions she should not, made her wonder how much support the Alliance would still lend if she retired. Then regs be damned, she might be able to retain her squad without the possible interference of the Uniform Code. Of course, she would prefer not to have to take that route, though Shepard knew it was purely selfish and highly unlikely in any event.
As she continued to consider things, she wondered where on the spectrum Caz and Jensen might fall. Admittedly she was not keen on broaching the topic with either for fear they might lean toward the side of logical reason. Over her time in the service, Jensen had been her sounding board, sparring partner, and mentor; for her, his opinion would be tantamount and part of her feared knowing his opinion on the situation. Too many times he had been the one to jerk her back to herself. And deep down there was a part of her that did not want to be jerked back from this line.
Caz was a little gentler in his typical approach to her, but she trusted his opinion on matters personal and professional. He had been through all her relationships with her, listened to her and understood when she talked about why she could not do it, could not be what they asked of her. Of course, deep down Nyx knew what he would say. It was what he always said. Is it what you want? He was a big proponent on directing your own path, mainly because his life had been shoved off course for him, and by the time he realized he could have changed it back he had already lost the thing he wanted most. That was exactly what Caz would say to her, she realized thinking about he and Lin and everything he lost for a decision that was not his own.
Is it what you want?
The quick chime from her wrist brought her out of the reverie. Upon noticing the message her eyes brightened.
/2/
The place was small and quiet; the dim lighting was nice, it reminded the pilot of the cockpit. And the food wasn't bad either. Joker was sipping his coffee as he waited for the large platter of eggs and assorted breakfast meats he had ordered. He did not care that it was three in the afternoon to his internal clock. He had a craving for real damn bacon, not that crap that played the part on the ship toward the time for resupply.
He glanced over curiously as Alenko fell into a chair beside him. "Wow, you look like hell," the pilot greeted, taking another drink.
Kaidan glared at him for a second before setting his face in his hands.
"That good? Let me guess. This is about Dr. T'Soni and the half-dressed, disheveled commanding officer."
The glare intensified and Joker just chuckled into his cup.
"You are too easy to read, Alenko."
"Am I totally missing something?" His question was tinged with something more pressing.
Joker shook his head with a slight shrug. "Look, Commander Shepard knows everyone on the ship. Guys I know say she takes the time to learn everyone's name and something about them. The people she works with most, she's friendlier with. They also say she doesn't like to swim in the company pool." The revelation did not seem to settle his friend's nerves. "I'm not speculating, but you know rumors on a ship tend to be just that. Hell, there are still rumors that you're pining for Williams and the quarian, but those aren't nearly as popular as the ones about you and Shepard. Though my favorites are the ones about Williams and Garrus."
"What?" the lieutenant asked with a shocked look. "Really?"
Joker laughed as his plate arrived. The waitress refilled the pilot's cup and the one in front of the biotic as she looked that the dark-haired marine expectantly. Kaidan simply told her to bring him the same thing as Jeff and she left. Once she was far enough away, the conversation resumed.
"Yeah. It's hilarious given her known lack of love for aliens." Joker nodded as he chewed.
He noticed the amused smile shift to something else. Just the night before the pilot overheard two of the female crew speculating that the commander was a frigid bitch and was just stringing Kaidan along. Jeff did not figure that bit of information would do all that much for his friend's current state and kept it to himself.
Joker leaned forward and gestured at the lieutenant with a piece of warm, crisp bacon. "Why don't you just stop pussyfooting around? I mean, I know regs, but they all seem to read top down. Not bottom up. Surely if you instigate-"
"Doesn't matter who instigates it. The perception remains the same. Two people in the same chain of command, especially at different levels …" he said shaking his head. "It creates instability and interpersonal issues for personnel within that chain. Concerns about unit cohesion, mainly." Alenko rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead.
Joker looked at him pointedly. "Fuck! Did you memorize that shit out of the manual?"
Kaidan chuckled uneasily. "No. Just read it a few dozen times, I guess. As if reading the regs over and over would make it any easier." When Alenko looked over at him the veil fell completely. "I don't know what I'm doing, man. This is not me."
Joker shook his head. This was not his area of expertise either. He stayed far away from women in uniform, unless they were nurses. But the pilot really did feel a little sorry for his friend. He could see that the staff lieutenant was in deep and he was drowning in it.
"Alenko, you've got it bad," the pilot laughed.
"Fuck you, Joker."
Kaidan's plate arrived and there was another forced silence waiting for privacy to return to the table. Joker wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned forward, speaking a little quieter. "I'm serious. This is tearing you up. You care about her. It's almost sweet. But you won't do a damn thing about it because you're you. Like you said way back when, the Alliance is where you belong. It kind of sucks that now it's interfering with what you want and making you miserable as hell. Though I can't say I'm surprised that it's another marine that's got you all twisted up so that you can barely keep your head above water."
Alenko stared at him. "It's not that bad."
Joker stabbed a bite of fluffy scrambled eggs with his fork. "How long did you sleep last night? Two, three hours tops?"
Kaidan didn't say anything.
"How many migraines have you had in the last week? Worse than usual?"
"I don't get migraines because of Shepard."
"Not saying you do. But someone," he said the word staring pointedly at Kaidan, "did tell me once that they are induced by stress, physical and mental. And your mental stress is affecting the level of physical stress-i.e., the not sleeping." Joker set his cup down. "Seriously man. You need to just do something about it, even if she totally pushes you away. You can't keep going like this."
Kaidan held his fork for a moment and stared at the tines. "She said I wasn't out of line. But there are regs."
When Alenko closed his eyes for a few seconds, Moreau just stared at him. He had not been expecting that little revelation. He thought about it for a long time as the taller man stayed silent.
"Almost worse than wondering-knowing she feels something similar but can't do anything about it either," the biotic relented.
"Fuck 'em." Joker's response was instant and final.
"Come again?" Alenko looked a little surprised as Jeff's decision.
"Seriously, screw the regs. They're there in the first place to keep nasty old flags of the sweet young yeomen anyway."
"I think there is a little more to it than that," Alenko added. "Like a little thing called favoritism."
"Yeah, in Shepard's book, favoritism is getting to go get shot at," Joker said deadpan. "Look, I've talked to people. The commander doesn't play favorites, even with people she's worked with for years. Everyone gets the same consideration." He shrugged again and continued. "Hell, her unit is barely Alliance anyway-just you, her, and Williams. Plus, it kind of seems like there might be some leeway with her being a Spectre and all."
"She's still Alliance, Joker," the lieutenant said, shaking his head. Just like Kaidan, she'd always be Alliance-Alenko had said it too many times before. The Alliance was where he belonged. "It's in her blood. It's who she is."
"Yeah, but it's not all she is. It's not all you are either." The pilot popped the last bit of bacon in his mouth. "It's like that shit about her socks."
Kaidan looked at him curiously. The look told the pilot his friend had missed that little display.
"Crosby asked what was up with the crazy socks. She said it was her way of not losing who she is to the uniformity of it all. It's like you and how you tweak that omnitool. No one else would have a clue what to do with that thing and it's not standard issue-it's all you." Joker sipped his coffee then stroked his stubbly beard. "And I have this baby. As much as the Alliance wants us to be, none of us are standard issue."
"Still doesn't change the fact that standard issue or not, the regs still apply to us all."
"You're not seeing the big picture. This isn't just some typical commanding officer, Alenko. This is Commander-fucking-Shepard. Hero of the Skyllian Blitz. N7 stand out. One of the most prized operators in the Alliance. And…" Jeff held up his hands. "Wait for it… The first human Spectre. She's got the kind of juice regs can't touch, well, the little ones anyway."
Alenko smiled at his friend's display as he took a long swig of the passable coffee. "You're forgetting one thing, Joker. She might be all those things. But I'm not. The regs will still clamp down on me."
"Damn, Alenko. You're the next most decorated officer on the boat next to her. And, shit, even if they did jump on you over it, she could pull some Spectre shit and cancel it all."
"Have you met Shepard?" Kaidan shook his head. "She wouldn't. She doesn't see herself the way other people see her. Besides that's not her style."
"I think you underestimate yourself, my friend. According to most of the female crew, you're worth breaking all sorts of regulations for."
Joker laughed wildly as Alenko nearly choked on a mouthful of his meal. The blush of embarrassment just made the pilot laugh that much harder. He'd noticed some of the exchanges between Alenko and Shepard since they put out from Arcturus and he was fairly certain that what might have started as glances toward an attractive member of the opposite sex might well have become something more akin to substantial feelings for one another. He felt a little badly for both of them.
They were picture-perfect soldiers; followed the rules to the letter, got the job done as cleanly and safely as possible. They were, literally, the pride of the fleet. And Joker was also well aware that when you push yourself that hard for something letting it go was difficult. For them to even try to be together, they would both have to loosen their grips on the thing that defined them. He did not envy either them, but in a way he did. To care about someone or something enough to let it drive you that crazy-
Jeff thought about it for a long moment. He wasn't sure he would be able to do it if the decision were before him. Give up flying for a woman. He shook his head. She'd have to be one hell of a woman. Then he looked over at Alenko who was silently contemplating his plate. Of course, Shepard was one hell of a woman. Strong, smart, decisive. Moreau found himself rather hoping his friend would throw caution to the wind and go for it, though he doubted it would be anytime soon. Alenko was careful, controlled, and, in Joker's opinion, overly cautious, but he was pretty sure that eventually the lieutenant might step up to bat and take a swing. Jeff just refused to bet on who might get up the nerve first-Alenko or Shepard-there did not seem to be anyway to predict that one.
/3/
This type of rare aligning of the stars, almost never happened. Captain Taranis Shepard managed to have a romantic dinner with his wife Hannah less than two weeks ago on Arcturus Station, because his deployment was delayed by, of all things, a malfunctioning refrigerator in the galley. Then he was lucky enough that his ship docked at the Citadel ten hours before the Normandy arrived. By a miracle, his daughter happened to not be tied up at Fleet. He managed to secure two rather lush armchairs in a back corner of the shop and ordered them both tea, as well as something wonderfully sweet … to share. Or at least that was what he told the wary salarian barista at the counter, and what he would tell Nyx, though he knew full well his sweet tooth was much more prominent than his daughter's.
Taranis heard her before he saw her. The polite apologies that were painted with a note of authority that made people step out of her path. She always did make an impression in uniform, he thought when he caught sight of her in her blues. As a girl, Nyx would tromp around their quarters in his dress coats and hat, giving off the sharpest salutes-almost as professional as the one she gave him when she reached him. Uniforms be damned, he had not seen his girl in too long he realized when she beamed at him.
He grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her into a tight embrace. Typically when he acted all paternal in public or in uniform she would stiffen up on him, but this time her embrace rivaled his. It was Taranis' first indication that something was askew. Nyx rarely clung to anyone, it was something he chalked up from growing up on ships where everything was sectioned off, even people.
"Your mother was bragging that you called her first," he whispered against her forehead as he pecked her just below the hairline.
"Don't be too distressed, Da. Did she also tell you it was about an old crewmate of hers?" Nyx asked, looking up at him.
"Eventually," he admitted with a chuckle.
"She made you sweat it, huh?" Nyx laughed lightly and scooted around the low table to the other chair he had secured.
"Doesn't she always?"
He could hear the strain in the practiced calm of her voice. It was one of the things he missed about his daughter-the vibrancy, in her eyes, her voice, her actions. Once she joined the service this calm seemed to creep in; she became the button-downed marine that everyone could count on, who everyone could look to. The captain had spent enough time with a combat unit to know it was not all in response to the job, some of it was a reaction to it.
"Mom said you sounded a little stressed. Told me I should try to raise you myself, since you hadn't called me yet."
"Yeah. That sounds about right." The commander shook her head, her lips a tight line as she leaned forward and picked up the tea cup.
Taranis could hear the irritation. She and her mother still crossed swords, even on the little things. Of course he knew the main reason why. In more ways than any of them would ever admit too, Nyx favored Hannah. Part of him wondered how he had managed to weather a life with two such strong-willed and determined women in his life, but he loved them both more than he could even fathom. He was the one that heard it all, from both of them, Nyx and Hannah only rarely talked; and since their daughter enlisted, the two only talked shop and even that was rare given Hannah's chosen route on the line and Nyx's in the field.
"I don't know. There might be something to it."
"It's just work, Da. Really. I'm fine. Just have … a lot on my plate." Her eyes met his for a moment, before redirecting to her cup.
Taranis watched her for a long moment. "I remain unconvinced, Nyxy-girl." He knew his daughter well enough to notice something was off even if this conversation had taken place over a comm line. Seeing her just made it easier to pick up on.
"That's because you're my father," Nyx said, leaning back in the chair. "It's in your job description to be pushy and know things."
"True," Taranis agreed, stabbing at the silky slice of cheesecake with a stunning drizzle of sweetened and reduced cherries . "But I also know your usual brand of stressed, doll. And this seems a little more overwhelming."
The light ring of the ceramic drew his attention to his daughter. "I am running for two teams now. One would expect some extra strain."
The two Shepards watched one another for a long moment, before Taranis returned his attention to one of the soft cherries. The commander sighed, sipping her tea quietly while the captain waited. It was his usual tactic. He knew there was more and he could always wait her out. Nyx would talk to him in her own time, even if it had to be in carefully crafted abstractions. His daughter knew the drill. Taranis' methods were nothing new to her. He would take long pauses, allowing her to consider all the things she was not telling him. Then he would ask careful questions in case it was actually related to her current or a classified assignment-since need to know could interfere with her desire to disclose and his fatherly curiosity.
Whatever it was, Nyx held onto it much longer than usual, which told him she really did not want to bring it up. Despite this, Taranis knew she would relent because she kept glancing over at him with a look that suggested she was merely trying to find the way to bring it up. Nyx always came first for him; he redirected his career to give her the life she had, a life where there was always one parent there to hold her tight when things weren't just so. He knew it was not perfect, but he did everything he could to be there for her.
Nyx sighed as she set the tea cup on the table between them. "Fine," she breathed heavily.
It took another few moments for her to look up at him. Then she scooted a little closer, lowering her voice in discretion. Watching her carefully Taranis could not quite be sure what she was going to say, but she bit her lip and winced a little when she finally asked a question he never expected to hear.
"What did you do when you met Mom?"
Everything froze for a second or two as he stared at her. The little blush on her cheeks threw her father for a loop, but made him smile. "Well, damn."
The commander shook her head at him, trying to discourage him from thinking too hard about what she had just asked.
"Answer the question, please."
Captain Taranis Shepard rubbed his hand through the short stubble on the back of his head as he stared at his daughter in stunned silence. "I avoided her. Tried to just keep my distance. I even put in for a transfer," he admitted with a wry smile. "It got denied because I did not put in what command thought was a valid reason. Then, on leave, I talked to your Grandpa Shepard about it."
Nyx smiled and laughed. "And what did the old devil dog have to say about that?"
Her voice held a note of disbelief that her father was not surprised to hear. Taranis' father was a stickler for rules, regulations, expectations. He was strict and set high expectations. The captain could tell by the way his daughter eyed the dregs in her tea cup that she was as completely unprepared for what her father was about to say as Taranis had been when he heard it.
"He told me it was not a weakness to want someone to be part of your life."
Nyx's eyes darted to his. She was easily as shocked as he had been. Moving the tea cup, Taranis laid her hand out in his and covered it with the other.
"I told him all the things, I'm pretty sure you're telling yourself right now. All the excuses about regs, concerns, and bad experiences and stories you've heard," Taranis said quietly as he stroked the back of her hand lightly.
She leaned toward him. Her voice was tight with emotion. "And?"
Holding her hand tightly, her father smiled at her softly. "He told me that there are some things that outweigh the regs."
They were both quiet for a moment as Nyx let herself fall back in the chair. Her mind was clearly racing. Kirk Shepard had always stern, at best; he still was totally by the book in everything except when he met his wife. That was the only rule Taranis could think of his father ever even bending, let alone breaking out right. Nyx had been very close with both her grandfathers; she respected them as men and as marines. For her they were role models, people she that influenced her greatly.
"I'm going to tell you something you probably don't know. My parents met in the service, too. We Shepards seem to fall for our brethren," he said playfully. Nyx did not look relieved in the slightest. "He almost lost her on a mission. Even in love, your grandfather was still the same man. He couldn't justify risking the primary objective. The mission at all costs, you know?"
Taranis knew she understood it. Hell, he knew she lived that decree just as solidly as his father.
"She made it out alive, barely. Your grandfather, sentimental bastard, proposed to her when she woke up from surgery. Grandma Amelie was just as stoic as he was. Told him she would consider it, but only if he promised to do always put the mission first, even if she was in his command. She believed him when he said he would. Even lived up to it. Had to put her at risk once more in the field before they got married."
"And he told you this when you asked him about Mom?"
"Yep," Taranis said, nodding as he studied his daughter's reaction. "I was rather hoping I wouldn't have to tell it to you, but I guess it was too much to hope you'd break the trend of falling for servicemen."
She shrugged and looked at their hands for a long moment. "Seemed to be going well for a while," Nyx said quietly.
"Just tell me it's not the Zingel kid."
Her laugh made him smile, and brightened her eyes. "No, it's not Caz."
Taranis leaned back in his chair, fidgeting with his uniform for a moment. "So, tell me something about this fella."
The way she tilted her head at him suggested that the question might have been her maximum.
"At least tell me his name so I can start checking up and get a little peace."
"Da."
"Fine." Taranis let his hands fall on the arms of his chair. "Don't relieve your old father of the undue stress he is now placed under worrying about what kind of man his plucking his daughter's heart strings."
"Seriously?" she replied with a doubtful look.
They both knew she did not see herself as the type of woman who was plucked, but Taranis had a long and vivid memory and he could still recall the girl with the romantic sensibilities.
"What? I remember the shelves of Austen, Gaskell, and the Brontes. Then there were the sonnets your grandmother always sent you. And if I recall you were planning on marrying Captain Wentworth." He tilted his head at her slightly. "Perhaps I should have seen this coming after all."
They both laughed. Then Nyx sprang forward and hugged her father around the neck. "I've missed you, Da."
"I love you, Nyxy-girl."
Her lips were warm on his cheek. "Love you, too," she repeated before she stood. "I should probably go."
"We should do this again," her father offered, as he stood and proffered his arm. "Soon."
His daughter smiled and looked away for a moment. "Sure. As soon as I can."
Once they exited the little shop, they stopped and he touched her cheek before he bent and kissed her forehead again. He did not like her chosen phrase. Taranis knew she meant it, but he also knew the schedule she had kept for the past several years and there was little hope of relief given the most recent change.
"I'd prefer sooner," he noted.
It always killed him to say what he said next, the phrase was tradition, but always made his heart ache because he knew there was always a chance that he could lose his girl in the line of duty. He had been in her boots and hung them up for her. She had taken them up with fervor and so much more skill and determination than Taranis ever possessed.
"Good hunting, Commander," he said, a waver in his voice, as he saluted her sharply.
Nyx returned it as smartly as she would to an admiral. "Thank you Captain."
Taranis watched the girl with her mother's hair and his eyes weave through the crowds in the wards. He remembered meeting a boy once, at her basic graduation. Keith or Kyle or something that started with a K. He managed to stick around until a few months after her graduation from Exeter. Somehow the kid had stuck it out through three mission deployments before the relationship ended without so much as a whimper. The captain could not remember his name or much else about him. Even after a few years together, his daughter never hinted at the question she just asked. It elated and scared the hell out of him.
/4/
Shepard hoped the short leave might help elevate some of the tension that was overcoming most of the crew, which seemed to be heightened in her squad. She had gotten a great piece of information from Garrus, and a quick chat with Officer Chellick got her access to a gym located in C-Sec. It was supposed to be for their forces only, but Chellick owed her one and pulled a few strings to get her in. The first morning on the Citadel, for her, was spent in offices being alternately growled at by Udina and defended by Anderson. By the time it was all said and done she really needed the access Chellick arranged for her.
Shepard set an alarm on her omnitool so she would not miss out on the little excursion to Flux she had heard so much about. She pulled the small silver box out of the kit she brought with her and removed her amp. Nyx wanted to pummel something, not fling it. She always found working a heavy bag more satisfying when she could mostly only draw on her own physical strength, when it was just her hands.
She stretched her lean body out and felt the effects of the last few months aboard ship. I'm going to have to change up my routine. Need more time for physical training. Since their last trip to the Citadel she stopped leading the marine detail's PT, leaving it to Alenko. She shook even the merest thought of him from her mind. She did not want to fight with that right now, she just needed a little time where her mind could rest and calm down, before she had to return to the reality of the situations she faced. She tried to shake the tension out of her limbs as she bounced on the balls of her feet, shaking her hands loose as she eyed the bag.
"I'll get to you, don't you worry," she whispered to the bright red target.
After a little time on the weight machines, the commander moved toward the treadmill, but the five mile run she planned on ended just over four. She shook her head at herself as she hopped off and crossed the room. She taped up her hands before turning towards the heavy bag. Several turians, a few salarians, and three humans came and went in the time she spent in the security officers' gym. A few spoke to one another, but they all ignored the human female in the corner, which was the reason she chose this spot and not another. Being overlooked that afternoon made the officer happier than she really wanted to admit. She was rather glad to be ignored. She disregarded the time, merely hammering at the bag until she felt the familiar ache in her back and shoulders. After which she cut her hands loose and opted to cool down with another more leisurely jog.
She had been running for about twenty minutes when he door opened again. Chellick walked toward her. "I pulled some strings," he said as he stopped near her machine. "Got you access, whenever you're on station."
Shepard stopped and flipped on her omnitool as he transferred the access codes from his device to her own. "Appreciated."
"Least I could do. And Garrus put in a good word." She laughed with a half-smile. Chellick nodded. "He's a good man. He's been missed."
"I'll tell him," Shepard replied.
Chellick shook his head. "No, don't. He's doing what he needs to do. He's been struggling against the red tape for a while. Whatever you guys are doing out there seems to be helping." The turian offered her his hand, which she shook. "Good luck, Commander."
"Thank you, Detective."
She patted her neck and chest with a towel as she cleared the console on the machine. Her alarm had not rung yet, but she was done. Shepard took advantage of the showers in the locker rooms and donned a pair of jeans and a black tee. She tugged on the leather jacket, which was a few sizes too big. Like the knife she carried, it too had belonged to her grandfather, just a different one. The dark leather was supple, well worn, and patched in a handful of places, but it was warm and comfortable. In a way it felt like home.
On her way out of the C-Sec facility, her omnitool finally rang. It was the reminder about the last minute invitation to a haphazard congregation of her crew. Shepard was not one for crashing her crew's leave, but if they wanted her there she was loathe to decline. With a tightening in her shoulders she crossed the ward at a leisurely pace.
The Normandy's crew had laid claim to the balcony above Flux's dance floor. Several crewmembers were enjoying the music, but everyone on the dance floor was giving Wrex a wide berth. Shepard could not help but laugh as she noticed the krogan dancing wildly. Can't say I ever thought I'd see that. She caught sight of Garrus leaning against the banister of the stairs and walked over to him.
"That's … something," she said lightly as she stopped next to him and turned to watch again.
Garrus nodded for a moment. "That's one word for it."
They both laughed. "Appreciate you taking care of that so quickly."
"No problem, Shepard. Just surprised Chellick was so helpful."
"I can imagine."
As she turned to head up the stairs, Wrex yelled, "Shepard!" and she froze midstride.
Oh shit! She turned and caught the disturbing smile that lit the krogan's features in a devilish way. "No," she said flatly, shaking her head as she took a step away from him.
It was too late. Wrex grabbed her hand before she could escape and took several steps back, he pulled her forcefully and she landed against his chest as he set a hand on her waist. "Any female that can handle herself in combat like you must be a fine dancer."
"I assure you, Wrex, if that is the rule, I am definitely the exception to it."
He tried to lead her around the floor in some dance she could not follow. Then he spun her loose and danced next to her, while she just sort of shifted from one foot to the other lamely.
"Shake it, Commander," some brave soul yelled. But between the music, her embarrassment, and everything else, she was uncertain precisely who had said it. Though she guessed it could have been Private Nunez, he sometimes seemed to lack the censor of propriety that resided in most people's subconscious. Shepard humored Wrex for a few minutes more before fleeing from the dance floor and heading upstairs.
"He did the same thing to me," Tali said quietly when Nyx leaned against the wall next to her. "Though I think your performance out did my own."
"Not a lot of dancing in the Flotilla?"
"On the contrary, dancers are greatly esteemed by my people. I simply have not been blessed with any ability in that arena."
Williams fell against the wall in a smooth, controlled movement. "It's all about the partner," she offered unbidden. "Good dancers have great partners. Well, that's what my mom says anyway. She tried to teach me and my sisters." Williams shook her head as she looked at the krogan. "She said dancing was like a conversation, or a relationship, a lot of give and take," Ashley said rather absently, seemingly engulfed in the memory. She stood straight as if literally pulled back to the present. "But I'm not sure krogan speak that clearly."
The chief was called away and Tali leaned toward the commander, "On that last part, she may be right."
"You disagree with dancing being a conversation." Shepard had heard the saying before, but it seemed that was one language in which she had little fluency in. Despite desperate attempts by friends and lovers to teach her even a few words.
The quarian shook her head. "I'm not sure. Much of the dancing in my culture is ceremonial, celebratory. It serves the role of praising as well as entertaining, though not in the way of the females in Chora's Den. We prize the symmetry and fluidity of the body in motion, it is beautiful. But in those instances it is a solo endeavor, dancers do not dance together."
"Ever?"
"Dancers participate in the dances singly or in groups of varying numbers, but they do not dance coupled together like many of those people."
Shepard was intrigued and looked over at her friend. "So, quarians don't just dance with someone because they want to be close to them or what have you?"
"I've never seen it. There might be some who do, but it's not a display made in public in that case."
The commander just nodded as she stood and watched over the action. After less than an hour, though, she abandoned the bright pulsing lights and loud throbbing music. As she exited Flux, Lieutenant Commander Shepard stuffed her hands in her pockets and just wandered around in contemplative aimlessness, no rhyme or reason to her path. She found herself at the overlook and just stood there for a moment, taking in the view. All those people, beings, just milling around living their lives, obliviously. They did not know or care what she was doing or why. All that mattered is that she did and that she knew why.
But what is my role? Where did I fit? And how? All these questions kept skirting the issue. Regardless of what she had to do? Why she did it? Who she did it for? Did she really have to exclude other things from her life? Or was there a way to have a life in the midst of the insanity of her career? Then she asked herself one last question-should I even be thinking this now?
Destruction looms and I'm acting like some pining teenager. Does it really even matter? Chasing a rogue Spectre hell bent on bringing back some ancient race of xenocidal machines-that matters. With problems on that scale is it just plain selfish to distract yourself with questions like these? Does it really matter? So what if you want someone to be there beside you, there are bigger things at stake.
She stretched her arms across the thick wall and gripped the edge as she leaned forward, looking out at the bustling hub that was the center of galactic power. Shepard let go of the wall and settled back down on her feet. She let herself wander around a while longer, not quite ready to return to the ship.
Not surprisingly, the Citadel seemed to have its own cycle. Things in the lower wards weren't quite as bustling and she even managed to find a relatively quiet spot with a somewhat decent view. She closed her eyes and rolled her head around, trying to stretch out the muscles in her neck. She thought about what her father said about what he had done. He knew precisely how to deliver the information in a way she would need to hear it. He saw the strain of it all. Her father knew her.
Perhaps that was the key.
You want someone to see you.
That's what Chakwas had said to her. Maybe a part of her wanted her crew to see past the uniform, get to see her as more than just Commander Shepard. Hell, Ashley had seen shades of it first hand when they ensured the release of Serviceman Bhatia's remains. But that was Shepard's way, she took care of her people as best she could. And there were times when Kaidan looked at her and Nyx was almost certain he could see past it all-the uniform, the command façade, the dedicated marine shell.
She folded onto the bench and leaned back as she stared out at the ward arms. Her mind was calmer than it had been for a while, but it was by no means still. Then again her mind was hardly ever still. People saw it, she knew, her interest in the staff lieutenant. Allowing herself to consider it again, she found it a little easier to consider in more distant terms. No one around her seemed to discourage the connection either, even those that should.
Everyone around her seemed to be trying to get her to set reason aside and follow her heart. They just did not understand how hard that was for her. She trusted her head and her gut-her heart never really came into the equation. People seemed to be trying to get her to look beyond her career, beyond her uniform. She crossed to the retaining wall and sighed out at the purplish hue that seemed to both surround and emanate from the Citadel.
Remembering what Caz would ask her, she whispered the question to herself as she dragged her fingertips over her forehead. "What do you want?"
"Shepard?"
Her heart jumped into her throat as her body tensed. The chances of it seemed to miniscule, like a twisted version of that old line from her grandmother's favorite movie-of all the dark, quiet corners on the Citadel, why'd he have to walk into mine? With a quick swallow, trying to lodge her rebellious organs back into their natural position, she turned and glanced at him.
A little smile played on her lips when she noticed he had gone civvie, too. His shoulders hunched slightly as he tucked his hands into his jean pockets as he moved in her direction.
"How's it going, Lieutenant?" Nyx asked, opting to toe the line.
"Good."
Alenko seemed to be pacing it out in his head; that tell tale calculating look creased his brow and told her his mind was racing at least as fast as hers. That look was usually reserved for the more troublesome systems they came across or for situations like this. He joined her near the wall, looking out on the vastness of this galactic hub that stretched out around them.
"Kind of surprised to see you down here, Shepard."
"Yeah. I could say the same." It felt so stiff, so unlike either of them. And a part of her wondered if maybe the scene that morning had been more detrimental than she feared.
He nodded knowingly, eyes moving from her back out to the view. "Leave going well?"
"Given that I spent the morning with Udina. No, definitely not."
"Ouch!"
She laughed lightly. "Yeah tell me about it." Her eyes met his again, the calculating look was gone and the familiar warmth that made her pulse quicken returned. "But I managed to turn it around."
/5/
Kaidan shifted, mimicking her relaxed posture. It had been a long time since he saw her out of uniform. Even despite that, he could still sense the danger he placed himself in, there alone with her, close to her. There were times in the field he when the temptation to act on his impulses was great, like leaning next to her, examining the map on her omnitool or his. In the Mako, it would be so easy then, with her sitting within arm's reach of him. So close, within his grasp, but never farther away than in those very same moments-wholly focused on the task at hand.
There at the outlook it would be even easier. There was no mission, no objective, no anomaly that needed to be scouted. It was just the two of them, mainly. While there were other beings in the area, the two of them were removed, secluded, overlooked. There in that quiet corner of the Citadel they were just two humans, even more innocuous due to the fact that for whatever reasons, they had both gone native so to speak. It was the first time since they met on Arcturus that they both had shed the trappings of their careers, of the Alliance. Even if it was only outwardly.
It might not be much, but it was something, he thought.
The accusations he kept throwing at himself seemed to still in that moment. He took a step toward her and, unlike so many times recently, her gaze was constant. She looked up at him with those deep blue eyes-eyes that told him more than she had ever put into words. He saw it sometimes when they talked. Or when she looked at him and he accidently caught her gaze. In those moments it was fleeting; there one moment and gone the next, that hint of connection, presence, interest. Usually she would look away, or her attention would be redirected and the commander persona would slip back into place. But at that moment, there in the darkness of an abandoned corner of the Citadel, that usually fleeting look was steady, certain, and ever present.
When the thought cropped into his head, Kaidan went with it. It's a chance worth taking, he reasoned. He had been playing the conversation with Joker over in his head since that afternoon. Considering those exchanges with Shepard that were making him feel a little on the certifiable side. He did not really care about the scene with the asari. He just needed to know, wanted to know if he was the only one willing to risk the things he had worked for.
His hand tightened and flexed at his side, even with the hint of resolve he had, it still took a moment to muster the strength to step over that invisible line that kept them apart. The moment his fingers touched her face, tracing the soft line of her jaw, Nyx closed her eyes and held her breath. There was minimal comfort in the visceral reminder that he was not the only one struggling their way through these depths.
"Kaidan," she breathed softly. Then she opened her eyes, he could see it, see her trying to regain control, pull them both back to reality. "What are you doing, Lieutenant?" Her voice lacked that usual steady air of command, instead it wavered.
His fingers stopped for a moment as he looked into her eyes. Alenko searched for it, the sign of the officer slipping back in place, the tell tale distance that always seemed to crop back up.
Tell me to stop.
He willed her to deny him. That would make it all so much easier.
Tell me this isn't want you want. Tell me I'm overstepping. Tell me something, anything. Push me away. I can handle that. But I can't keep going like this.
All he could see in her eyes was the tenderness that was there when they spoke privately, when no one else could see-the openness that was often there when she looked at him. He let his hand slide behind her neck, finally satisfied that maybe this crazy thing was not just his alone.
"Something that could ruin my career."
Shepard's eyes widened with realization as he leaned toward her, pulling her closer as he did so. His lips brushed hers with the barest hint of reservation. The lack of resistance in her body encouraged him. Repeating the gesture, she reciprocated. It was a slow and gentle exchange; soft kisses punctuated by her hand on his chest, his arm sliding around her waist, her fingers gliding along on his cheek.
Shepard broke the connection first, but she did not pull away. Her hand rested on the back of his neck as she leaned her forehead again his. Noticing her eyes were still closed he could not help the little smile as he wondered if she kept hers closed for the same reason he opened his immediately, afraid it was some wild daydream that would dissipate into the ether all too soon. When Nyx did look at him, she smiled; it was relaxed, easy in a way that made him hopeful.
/6/
It seemed her mind was not playing tricks on her. Kaidan was indeed there, gazing at her in that manner which made her almost afraid to look at him. When he looked at her like that, it was hard to breathe and she was almost certain that he could see her-see past the uniform, past the guns, past the career. Shepard leaned into him again, giving back the kind of certainty he offered her in his gesture and answering the question at the tip of both their tongues.
Yes, I want this. I want you.
The way he pulled her closer, embracing her tightly against him, made her pulse pound through her veins as a sense of lightheadedness set in. This time when it ended, Nyx opened her eyes right away. The tension she noticed in his face recently seemed to have slid from his features. The tinge of worry that often clouded his eyes cleared. And she wanted to just huddle there in that warm sensation that ebbed through her as his thumb stroked her cheek, curving along the scar beneath her eye.
The calculating look eased back in as Kaidan left a little more distance between them. His voice deep and whiskey smooth, when he spoke. "I don't want to make things any harder on you. I don't want to complicate-"
Knowing it for what it was. Shepard darted upward on her tip toes, pressing her lips to his. A way out was the last thing she wanted. The moment he kissed her, Nyx knew it was all or nothing. For her there could be no caveats. She had done things halfway before. Halfway never worked, in the field or elsewhere she had found.
"Don't," she whispered between gentle kisses.
"Don't, what?" he asked, placing a break between them and looking down at her again.
She leaned back, giving a little more room, but not quite willing to relinquish his personal space. Recalling the conversations they had, she remembered his notation that she should always leave herself a way out. But she did not want one, even if it was safer to have one. If she was going to do this, Nyx knew she could not do so from the fence. "Don't give me a way out."
Kaidan seemed surprised. For a moment he looked to be considering the notion then he nodded, eyes brightening a little. "Okay. I won't." His fingertips lightly traced the shape of her ear, his gaze not wavering from hers. "You don't think this is insane?"
"Completely," Shepard agreed with a soft chuckle. She smoothed her hands over the cotton of his t-shirt across his shoulders. She bit her bottom lip and snapped the tight sleeve against his bicep.
The laugh and the look told her he remembered the night before the Normandy put out quite as vividly as she did. As she let her fingers skim the edge of the fabric there against his arm, she considered it all. It was nuts. It might be just a little bit stupid. It even held a note of risk, especially considering they were both career officers. She found his calm amber eyes studying her when her head fell back again. But in the end… "I think you're worth it."
"Couldn't agree more," he whispered, pulling her a little closer.
Leaning into him, Nyx wanted to lose herself to it-that feeling she fought, the desire, the warmth that smoldered there in his embrace.
/7/
The too cheerful ping of her omnitool separated them again; Shepard looked up at him apologetically. It seemed like a taste of what he just signed himself up for. They were both familiar enough with one another that he knew right off by the sound of the alert that the message she received would be marked priority. That particular alarm usually came accompanied by a groan or a roll of the eyes and orders, this time it was a shy bit of the lip and a regretful shrug.
"Sorry," she murmured as she took a few steps away and pulled up the message.
Alenko leaned against the retaining wall, resting his elbows against the lightweight polished metal. His mind raced through it all-the clarity of her reaction, the certainty of her resolve, and her realistic take on it. It was crazy, but he agreed with her. She was entirely worth it, he thought as he looked over at her. Her fingers moved across the interface, quickly drafting a response to whoever messaged her. She glanced up and caught him watching, the frenzy stopped for a moment as she smiled sweetly at him. The tender little acknowledgement was almost worth the interruption.
When she touched his shoulder softly, he could see that familiar struggle. "I have to go," she said with a wince.
"I know," Kaidan replied.
His smile bloomed when the surprise widened her eyes. He could see the question as if it were flashing in neon on her face.
"You could message me when you get done? Joker showed me this great little place that makes a decent breakfast, though the coffee leaves a little to be desired." When her lips pursed at him, Alenko ran this thumb across the thinned line and pecked her lightly. "I'll send you the directions. Let me know if you can make it."
"Okay," she replied. Her hand circled his arm, and when she pulled lightly, he kissed her softly. Before she got too far, she turned, adding, "It should only take a few hours."
The lieutenant might not have any idea what the hell he was doing, but he knew precisely who he was doing it with. He knew damn well that the scene that just played out was the barest beginning of the way this would work. Preferring that she would have stayed, Alenko knew she wouldn't, she couldn't, and he did not expect her to.
The lithe blond disappeared into a corridor; once he lost sight of her he turned and looked out at the ward arms. The similarity was not lost on him. He had made a fool of himself in a spot just like this, practically announced his fascination with stellar tact and in front of the chief. Laughing at himself he cradled his forehead in his hands. That part was something he knew to be unrepeatable, of course he had already pretty much failed at keeping his interest under wraps. It seemed foolish to hope he would be able to hide this.