Hey guys, I just have a few things to talk about before the chapter! First of all, my take on the Arrival DLC is pretty much an AU. After doing a crap ton of research I decided to use it as a plot device and now I'm kind of sort of taking the idea and putting a spin on it, which means that it isn't necessarily going the way it is in-game. Second of all, I'm starting to wonder if this story is getting too long. We haven't hit 100k (if it says so on here, that's taking author's notes into account) and the plot is going to be advancing into something soon. I'd like to think of this story as a prelude to something bigger. I haven't got an ending fleshed out yet but I know the direction I want to go in. It feels a bit obscure to me now and I'm trying to find my way, which is why chapters are slower than they've been before. I've also had a drop in readers and reviewers. I don't know if this means anything, but I'm still immensely thankful for the people that have stuck around since the beginning. Anyway, I think that's it. Please enjoy the chapter!

xoxo

THR

Chapter 41

Your name was Commander Liz Shepard and the sense of your own bones rattling in your body wasn't a sensation that you looked forward to each time you had something vital to take care of.

Since being on semi-permanent shore leave, you had forgotten what it was like to have a soldier's version of the butterflies. Your throat got tight, every flaw was placed in front of a microscope and you sometimes had the urge to shoot anyone who got in the way. What you were dealing with was nothing more than an a little bit of augmented anxiety for most advanced Alliance officers and Spectres. As far as you were concerned, though, it was much worse than that. Being off duty for more than a few weeks put you in a relaxed state. There was nothing to worry about, meaning that you were free to do as you pleased. Now that you were adjusting back into your role as an important military figure, your body wasn't going through the transition like it should have been. You had done it before, but something was different this time. Without being able to put your finger on it, you kept your mouth shut and handed datapads to Kaidan and Garrus to fill them in on anything about the mission that they had missed. You had worked your ass off to make yourself look good. Hours of office work and report writing had been put into planning the infiltration operation.

The autopiloted shuttle wasn't entering Batarian space as smoothly as planned. Sweat built up between your armor and your skin, making the scorching environment of the Kodiak like Hell incarnate. The heat shook your insides to the core, yet you continued to feel icy about the assignment at hand. Along with this, you had a perpetual gag reflex that was prompting you to vomit all over Kaidan's feet. Thankfully you were in control enough to prevent this incident from happening. Covering his polished blue armor with bile wasn't a good start to your "new and improved" relationship.

Recalling the talk the two of you shared wasn't something that was helping to calm your nerves. The conversation had its ups and downs; accusations and insults were hurled without care as usual, but there had been a fair share of laughs and bashful smiles to keep the both of you in check. The so-called social war was off now. Focusing on getting this scientist out of harm's way was your main objective right , not making amends with someone you once cared for more than anyone in the galaxy. It was cold and blunt, but it was a difficult reality that you had taken charge of long ago.

With your stiffened hands fastened across your battle rifle, you concentrated on the floor and repeated the same sort of mantra in your head over and over again until it stuck.

Save the target and leave.

Save the target and make sure everything turns out okay.

Save the target and don't get caught.

Save the target and avoid a diplomatic nightmare.

"Shepard!"

Your grip on your weapon tightened even more than you expected while you jerked your head up to see the distraction.

It was Garrus.

His body towered over yours while you stared straight ahead at Kaidan, who looked just as disgruntled as you. How your boyfriend found the headroom in the shuttle was a mystery to everyone who had been on your squad before. He towered over most people he encountered. Turians had a notable reputation to begin with. Combine that with a big ass gun and heavy armor and you've got yourself a man that can't be stopped. You thought that Vakarian fit that description quite well, and you were grateful to be taking him with you for more reasons than one. No matter how much he told you that he was the opposite of what the Turians considered to be a model citizen, you had never seen anyone fight so hard for what they believed in. You could only hope that the effort he was going to put forth today would be enough to prove to Hackett that you still had more potential in you. You were capable of picking a squad and getting the job done without any hassles getting in your way.

If something did happen to deter you, it would get kicked in the ass and would be left off of the report.

His visor was blinking at a more rapid pace than it did on a normal day, which meant that he had calibrated it to prepare for the potential danger that the three of you faced. Its targeting system was state of the art, but there was no way that you would be able to understand its precision; he never took the damn thing off.

When you didn't further the conversation he took the opportunity to do it himself.

"I didn't realize that we were going in dark. No gunfire, no anything? That's not like you."

The blasé look on your face made him understand your nervous attitude.

"We're going in, getting this lady and going out. I don't know why this is such a big deal now that I look at it, but as long as Hackett is watching we have to stay sharp. If the Batarians figure out about this, we're dead meat." you answered. Kaidan looked up from his own datapad and raised an eyebrow at your plans.

"This place is probably filled to the brim with guards. How are we supposed to get past them all? Stealth?"

Your gloved hands rubbed your forehead, which was an indication that you were already overwhelmed by the task at hand. Being on the brim of vomiting and screaming at someone at the same time wasn't a good place to be at in your life. The sweat was pooling everywhere now, making your hand slide off back into your lap. Grasping at your wet skin was a lost cause, anyway.

"We hardly even know anything about this woman! Did Hackett give a name or anything else to go on? I hate not knowing anything about what I'm going into, Shepard."

Kaidan's voice seemed to be droning on and on and you felt more inadequate as he spoke.

"Her name is Amanda Kenson and she's a close friend of the Admiral, Alenko!" you barked. "If you think you can lead this mission, then by all means do it! You're the only official Alliance guy here, after all!"

You wanted to retract the outburst when Kaidan's glare became apparent. All of your talking had gone to shit with just a few wrong words and you pleaded with yourself to make things better.

All it took were words to sway your relationship with him back and forth like a steady pendulum. Being okay and then being vicious towards each other was a cycle that was difficult to break. Staying in that good place again forever was looking bleaker as long as you continued to speak to him. Word vomit was a bitch and at this point it felt even worse than actual vomit.

Swallowing back your pride and bile was the only way to redeem yourself. As painful as it was, you still tried.

"I know as much as the both of you at this point. I don't know why the Council and Hackett haven't divulged much, but I have a gut instinct that this is imperative to helping us. That remark wasn't intended to be so hostile, I'm sorry."

Kaidan nodded and gave the remainder of his attention to the datapad once again. An unsteady sigh escaped your lips while an affirmative talon rubbed your shoulder.

Your name was Commander Liz Shepard and you were hurling your guts up when the shuttle touched down on the Batarian prison.

Your name was Kaidan Alenko and you sat in your apartment without knowing what you were supposed to do now.

Getting Shepard back on her feet and exposing the Batarian-Council controversy was starting to become less and less feasible. Politics were in the way regardless of how much Spectre authority was doled out to you. Nobody would listen and it frustrated you to no end. Not one single crew member of Shepard's had responded to your mass email asking for their support. With the exception of Chakwas, nobody else was supporting your plan. Not even Garrus, a somewhat trusted friend, was interested in assisting in bringing justice to his own partner. Considering how passionate the Turian was when it came to certain people and subjects, you didn't know what else to do.

The odds weren't in your favor anymore. Other than public backlash, nothing regarding Shepard was getting anywhere. The Batarians and the Council were going to get away with murder if you didn't intervene.

You still hadn't determined why you were still so attached to Shepard in the first place. You supposed that the two of you had technically written the book on how to fraternize in the Alliance without anyone knowing. You smirked at the thought of those older times when things were okay between everyone and stopping Saren was the only problem you had to deal with. Your brain treated those memories like they had taken place twenty years ago, not just a few.

Considering what had happened between you and Shepard, it was almost like you wanted to owe her something. After all those years of fighting, forgiveness and being a damn good CO, it felt like maybe it was time to give her a little something after the war had stripped her of everything except Garrus Vakarian. Although the Turian seemed to be enough for her, you wanted to give her more as a friend without pushing things. You had held her at gunpoint and came close to killing her. How she still had the guts to even speak with you and give you a hug was beyond your comprehension.

Yet again, she wasn't exactly a saint when it came to the bad things that she had done to you. Time and time again you felt like you could put those occurrences in the past, but seeing her yell for Garrus or hold his talon still killed you on the inside. It was dumb and you resented every moment of these sappy feelings. However, there was no getting rid of them until you found someone else to rely on.

With your laptop in front of you, you tapped away and took care of other important business that didn't involve your strained ex girlfriend. You had heard of her medical reports already and wanted to go and console her, but you figured that it wasn't your place to do so. Taking your mind off of Shepard helped you with the rather bland task of sorting through emails and intel that had to be approved.

Out of all of these bits of information, one message in particular was of utter importance and Shepard's life had been thrust into yours without even trying.

An email from Dr. Liara T'soni had entered your inbox just minutes ago. Its content, although rather bare, expressed her intentions quite fluently.

"Coming to Citadel from Thessia to see Shepard. Just got your email now—it was blocked by Council before, most likely the Turian councilor. Being Shadow Broker has its perks. Shep is in danger. The Hegemony may be very weak but they might have unknown allies. (assuming that you know about their dealings with the Council. Elaborate later) Will take a while to hack into their most private systems. Would like to meet up when I arrive. Also need to make emergency travel reservations that will accommodate my equipment. Any ideas? Miss you and the Normandy crew immensely."

You read the message out loud and assumed that her lack of proper grammar was caused by seemingly rushed travels. Of all people who would respond, you expected Liara to be one of them. However, at least Shepard's associates had a reason to not reply to your request for help.

Learning about the Council blocking your emails made you livid. You were a Spectre, for god's sake! You operated above them in most circumstances.

Your head throbbed with violent pain, sending you back in your office chair. You leaned back and the chair accommodated your drained body with plush comfort to sooth away your worries. As much as the inanimate object's warm, welcoming padding helped, it wasn't enough to soothe a migraine caused by those damn L2s that you had received as a child.

You had done enough for today and retiring to your bed felt like a great idea. It beckoned to you even though you were nowhere near it, as did the medication bottle sitting a few feet away.

With haste, you took out two pills and swallowed them dry before getting up to go to sleep.

Your name was Kaidan Alenko and you were really starting to wonder if caring about Shepard this much was worth it.

Your name was Liz Shepard and you couldn't find it in yourself to fall asleep.

This didn't mean that you weren't suffering from being exhausted. The battle scars from your first rendezvous in a year had grown enflamed and red. Some of them had even achieved a shade of dark purple or blue. Each of them was a reminder of the one thing that made you feel like you were on cloud nine no matter how far you were pushed down into a sea of darkness. What Garrus had given to you that evening had erased the negative emotions that had been dwelling inside of you. The depressing events of the day were replaced by more pleasant and erotic ones all because of his actions.

You swore to yourself that you would return the favor soon. Now that you had a chance to think about it, there were a lot of things that you owed him.

The edge of the bed lacked the satisfaction and warmth of Garrus' arms, but he was fast asleep and was becoming more and more fidgety as you stayed in his grip. He insisted that Turians were foreigners to cuddling before, but you had converted him long ago. Pillow talk and post-sex relaxing had scrounged its way into your routine and you didn't think that bothered either of you.

Instead of spending a dreamy night asleep in his arms, you came to the realization that romance vids weren't real life and you still had a sleeping problem. Your relationship was also far from conventional, which meant that no matter how much you tried, a Turian's arms would still scratch your own soft flesh regardless of your position.

You didn't feel like taking the risk of getting your bare body scarred up again and decided to switch positions to see what the hell your boyfriend was doing. Low, guttural sounds came from him when he slept, which wasn't very often. They brought a Chesire cat smile to your face and you were never able to tell if they were downright hysterical or sexy. His visor, which had been clicked off to allow his slumber to be easier, was still present on his face. In addition to this, he was still butt naked and you now had a new appreciation for him hating the sheets and covers.

His bare ass was right in front of you. If he wasn't sleeping you wouldn't hesitate slapping it because he would respond with pulling you down onto him and kissing you better than anyone had before. It was a fond thing to dream of, but he was unfortunately not conscious enough to make your fantasy become reality.

After figuring that you had indulged yourself enough, you went to grope around your bathroom for your clothes and decided to tame your growling stomach. It was getting late and padding to the kitchen in lingerie didn't seem like a bad idea. It was better than sitting around watching your boyfriend sleep and being envious that he was even able to snooze in the first place.

You were careful about leaving the room so you wouldn't disturb Garrus. The door closed without sound, allowing you to slip away unheard. The silence of the house ate away at your sanity. Having two other people living with you made quiet time an unforeseen rarity. You loathed it more than anything considering the solitary confinement that you had suffered through. During that year you sometimes found yourself screaming at nothing just to end the pathetic quiet that had fallen over the penthouse.

You reached the bottom of the stairs with your hands picking at your neck as if they were looking for the dog tags again. The nervous tick ceased when you saw a light on in the kitchen.

"Please let it be Joker…" you uttered to yourself.

With gentle steps, you rounded a corner and your eyes widened.

"Oh dear god…"