Yay, more fun time! I love getting to work on these side projects, so much. And I love that you guys like it! =)

Greenyoda987 gets all of my love for taking time away from school and work to look over everything I'm working on.

It always amazed Shepard how often she found herself in Chora's Den, but she told herself it was only to get away from the lunacy of the real world. That, and they had the cheapest drinks. She sighed and knocked back another drink, tapping her fingers against the glass as she cast a lazy look around the bar. It was relatively empty—no doubt because it was only halfway through the work day—and the music was only a dull echo of its usual thunder. As the bartender refilled her glass, Shepard tugged at the stiff collar of her fatigues. There had been a minor setback in the Normandy's departure protocols, and the engineers had found a leak in the venting pipeline from the drivecore. Now they were grounded for repairs until the leak was patched, and Shepard felt the twinges of restlessness settling into her muscles. She didn't like being docked for so long, she needed the hum of engines under her feet. A scowl pulled at her lip and she knocked back her drink again, raking her fingers through her hair as the burn in her throat made her grimace.

"Another, Commander?"

Shepard looked up at the young woman and huffed out a sigh. "Jenna, for the last time, you need to get out of here. These people are dangerous!" She heard the restless movements of the other patrons and shot a withering look at a krogan that took menacing step toward her seat at the bar. "Yes I mean you!" She threw up a rude gesture with her hand and turned back the younger girl. "Fist was murdered here. All of the stuff he's involved with got him killed, do you want that to happen to you?" She shoved her empty glass away and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Why won't you let me get you out of here?"

The brunette frowned and snatched Shepard's abandoned glass off the counter. "Why can't you just leave me alone? I can handle myself, and I don't need your help!" Before Shepard could stop her, Jenna left the Commander sitting alone at the bar. People began moving and Shepard's eyes flicked to both sides, checking for anyone trying to get the jump on her. Maybe this was why she liked this place so much, it kept her on her toes.

She heard the safety of a firearm click off and stood quickly. A brawl she could handle, a gunfight… Not right now. Not without armor. And a gun. Guns were good to have in gun fights. She forced her posture to stay relaxed and her steps to stay casual as she strode toward the door, fighting the dizziness her drinking had left her with. She'd made it almost to the door before someone finally grabbed her arm; adrenaline made her heart rate spike and she spun to face her attacker, one first raised to strike.

The turian that stumbled away from her looked too drunk to stand, let alone grab her and physically turn her around, and Shepard stared at him in muddled confusion as he struggled to regain his balance, leaning in close.

"If you want to help Jenna, meet me at C-Sec Academy." Like that, he was staggering away again, but Shepard took a step after him.

"Excuse me?" Either she was that drunk already, or there was something seriously fucked up going on.

She couldn't tell if he shook his head at her, or if it was his drunken swagger when he faced her again. "Piss off, I ain't done nothin' to you!" he called out, loud enough for the rest of the room to hear. Cover up. What in the bloody hell was going on? Shepard blinked, and he was gone, leaving her in the doorway of the bar with a flabbergasted look on her face. Pretty spry for a stinking drunk… But she shook her head and forced her feet to carry her back to the Wards.

Climbing the single flight of stairs to the Upper Markets took far more effort than Shepard dared admit, and when she crested the last stair, her head was spinning. Teach me to drink during repairs…

"Commander! Commander Shepard!"

Oh dear lord why… Shepard swallowed her sudden need to vomit and plastered a patient smile on her face. "Conrad. What can I do for you now?" she asked as the man scampered over like an excitable dog.

"Well, I know you're busy, but I had an idea." He was grinning like a mental patient and Shepard resisted her urge to back away slowly, instead focusing on the sensation of her feet on the floor and how much she wanted them to stay that way. "What if you made me a Spectre too! I could help you stop Saren, and can you imagine? Two human Spectres, running and gunning outside the lines with no rules! We'd be unstoppable! We—"

"Conrad, enough," Shepard cut in, holding up her hands. "I'm not going to make you a Spectre because not only is it not my decision, but I have enough to deal with without you running around making a mess of things behind my back," she huffed, "So why don't you go home to your wife and let me handle it, hm?"By the end of her diatribe, she sounded manic and her head was beginning to spin again.

"Oh, so that's how it is." The man's expression darkened and Shepard resisted the urge to roll her eyes and sigh in exasperation. "The great Commander Shepard doesn't have time for the little people. Well, you'll see. You'll see!"

As he stormed away, Shepard looked up to the ceiling as if hoping for an explanation. Her life was just one giant joke, it seemed. Finally, she shook her head and left, heading straight for the Rapid Transit station. Crazy fans or not, she had a few hours to kill before the Normandy was cleared for departure again, and she was going to get to the bottom of this Jenna business.

She wasn't quite sure where to start looking for her inebriated friend when she arrived at C-Sec Academy, but her head had begun to clear and that was something. Officers and civilians milled about in the lobby and Shepard grabbed the arm of a man in uniform as he went to walk by.

"Excuse me! Hi, I need to talk to the officer in charge of a case involving Chora's Den and a civilian informant?" she said quickly, trying to use her best Commander voice.

The Salarian blinked at her and sighed—rather theatrically, Shepard thought—but gestured toward a set of ascending stairs. "Up there, last office on the left. Detective Chellick, it's his case."

"Thanks." She wove through the crowd and trotted up the stairs, smoothing the wrinkles out of her uniform as she rounded the corner into the office she'd been told to find. "Detective Chellick?" she inquired of the turian behind the desk. He looked pretty similar to the drunk from the bar, but it was hard to tell in bright lighting and with his uniform.

"No offense, Commander, but what the hell were you thinking?" he snapped without looking from his terminal. Shepard straightened, her jaw clenching tight at the disdainful tone in his voice, and forced herself to keep her hands behind her back. Harder to hit him if they weren't up there and… waiting…

"I'd watch who you speak to with that tone, Detective," she spat, hackles rising as he cast a baleful look at her over his screen.

"I'm not the one who nearly destroyed months of careful undercover work, Commander," Chellick growled, standing to scowl at her, his palms flat on his desk. "Jenna is none of your concern, and if you care that much for her safety, you'll leave her alone. I am keeping careful watch of her, so she is perfectly safe so long as you don't blow her cover."

Shepard tightened her hands into fists behind her back, resisting the urge to tell him exactly where he could shove his case. "What is this even about? What could possibly be worth risking her life? Do you know how worried her family is? You've been stonewalling them when they ask for information!"

"They don't need to be informed!" Chellick snapped back, "Jenna volunteered, and she's the best lead we have on a blackmarket weapon mods dealer."

"A mods dealer? That's it? Why does it even matter?" Shepard demanded, crossing her arms and settling into her hip.

"C-Sec has a very precise edge over the criminal population in regards to weaponry. These mods, in the wrong hands, could tip the fragile balance of power between law and crime on the Citadel. Do you understand now?"

Oh, she wanted to punch the smug right off his face, the cocky, self-serving bastard… She could feel her blood pressure starting to rise and forced herself to take a long breath. "There has to be another way for you to get your evidence," she forced out, trying to keep her voice even, "Maybe I can help, so Jenna doesn't have to."

For a second, Chellick looked like he might refuse, but with a grunt, he nodded. "We've got enough evidence from Jenna at this point, we just need to catch him in the act." He scratched idly at the exposed skin of his neck before nodding slowly. "You could go down to the Wards, and pick up the shipment from our suspect. Then, bring the mods back to me, and I can finally arrest him and take the case to trial. Can you do that, Shepard?"

The Commander ran one hand down her face, but nodded all the same. Somehow she always ended up in these situations… "Yeah, yeah, fine. Who's the suspect?"

"Krogan named Jax. Go to the markets, pick up the mods, then come back here. That's all."

As she headed back down into the bowels of the Wards, Shepard tried to keep her expression neutral and her movements calm. There was a crowd of armored men around a crate, a shifty-looking krogan standing just behind them. Well, that had been easy enough. As she approached, they fanned out, with Jax at their center, and scowled at her with obvious malice until she stopped a few yards away. Outnumbered five to one and unarmed, Shepard felt the first twinge of nervousness at the back of her skull.

"You Jax?" she drawled, feigning indifference as they fingered the guns at their sides.

"Depends. You got the creds?" the krogan asked, suspicious eyes looking her up and down. She was almost glad she had stayed in her fatigues rather than donning armor for a maintenance delay. Even an Alliance uniform was less intimidating than combat armor.

"You got the mods?" Her gaze flicked to the crate and she saw the krogan tense.

"Yeah, right here. Best damn product on the Citadel, even better than what C-Sec has," he bragged, nodding for one of his men for crack the container open. Shepard risked a few steps closer to peer inside, a small smirk pulling at her lip.

"Looks good," she mused, hands on her hips.

"Damn right they do, they're the best in Citadel space."

Shepard's smirk spread into a full on grin, a deranged sense of reckless courage taking over as she stood there. "Fantastic. Then you're under arrest for illegal arms dealing," she informed him, boldly ignoring the hired muscle as they drew their weapons.

"What?!"

"You heard me, Jax," she sighed, "You're under arrest. I'm a Spectre, and I'm taking you in for smuggling."

"Like hell you are, human!"

Shepard dove backwards on instinct, scrambling behind the support column for cover as a hail of bullet rained down on the space where she'd once stood. Now she really regretted not bringing a weapon. In a panic, she looked toward the vender closest to her, a turian cowering behind his counter. "Hey, you! Give me that!" she yelled at him, gesturing toward the gun at his hip. For a second he stared at her like she had three heads and she scowled. "Hand it over, Spectre authority!" That snapped him into action, and she scooped the pistol up when he slid it over to her. Crappy piece of shit… She grimaced at the squeaking slide mechanism, but settled it into her hands and peered around the side of her cover. The smugglers had taken cover on the opposite side of the lower market, fully protected from her current position. She huffed out a breath and cued up her omnitool, flicking through the windows until the programs we wanted lit up cheerily. One beep and a temporary shield engine kicked in. Another, and she felt the small prick of the adrenaline pump. At the final beep, the target guidance system on her omnitool initialized. She rolled out of cover and charged the smugglers, secondhand pistol raised. One shot took the first man in the shoulder and sent him sprawling. Another two took out the man beside him, bullets tearing into his chest. Shots ricocheted off her shields and she dove behind a stack of crates. She could hear the pistol's heat sink discharge with a hiss and rose to her knees, lining up the sights over her cover and fired. The salarian's head snapped back and Jax stared in surprise. The last hired gun vaulted over the shipping pallet he had taken refuge behind and charged her, brandishing a shotgun with crazed relish better fitting a fanatic than a petty criminal. One blast ate her shields and she fired the pistol as fast as it would allow, bullets clipping the man's arm, leg, and shoulder before finally punching into his stomach. He stumbled and fell, the last round from his shotgun going wide as he crumbled to the floor. Shepard scooped up his weapon and closed the distance between herself and Jax, pressing the barrel of the gun to the krogan's head. "Put your hands up, drop your weapon, and stand up slowly," she snapped, panting lightly as the adrenaline injection began wearing off.

"Fuck you, bitch."

She didn't see the bioticly charged fist until it slammed into her side and sent her sprawling. Jax's footsteps retreating had her swearing as she stumbled to her feet and took off after him, grimacing as the impact jostled her suddenly-aching ribs. "Stop!" She forced herself up the stairs with a grunt and pivoted to follow the retreating krogan. "I said stop, damn it!" She raised the shotgun and fired once, the recoil making her inhale sharply through her teeth. The spray chewed into Jax's calf and the smuggler went down, clutching at the bleeding limb as she bore down on him. Bystanders stopped and stared, pointing and murmuring amongst themselves as Shepard dragged the groaning krogan to his feet. "Spectre business," she panted, shooting withering looks to some of the braver citizens, "As you were."

That would teach Chellick to put civilians in danger, the smug mother fucker…

"Shepard, are you trying to ruin this case?!" Chellick roared, turning on her as she trudged into his office. Upon seeing the krogan in her custody, however, his browplates shot up in surprise and Shepard grinned wolfishly.

"I'm sorry, care to try that again, Detective?" she asked, shoving Jax to his knees. "Here's your smuggler, the mods are down in the markets, tagged for pick up. Looks like I did your job for you, and in a fraction of the time."

The growl that came from the Detective's chest spoke of anger and frustration, but Shepard couldn't find it within herself to be afraid. His eyes narrowed as he came around his desk to study the krogan kneeling in his office. "You know why you're here?"

"Your crazy bitch of a partner shot me!"

Chellick cast Shepard a dark look, but she just laughed as she tossed her ill-gotten weapon onto the detective's desk. "He ran."

"You shot me!"

Chellick held up a hand, obviously trying very hard not to lose his cool. "Regardless, you were charged with smuggling illegal weapons mods into Citadel space. Are you denying that fact?"

"What? No! What are you going to do about her shooting me?!"

"Nothing. Commander Shepard acted well within her rights as a Spectre and as an agent of C-Sec." He waved to someone outside and a human officer entered. "Please escort Jax down to processing."

"You can't do that!"

Now, Chellick grinned as he hauled the suddenly-simpering krogan to his feet. "I just did." The other officer hauled Jax away, leaving Shepard and Chellick staring at each other in his empty office and the turian detective finally stalked away, throwing himself back into his chair. "I have half a mind to file a complaint with the Council, Commander," he growled, propping his elbows on the armrests and steepling his fingers.

"For what?" she snorted, crossing her arms, then thinking better of it as her bruised ribs protested. "I got your suspect for you, I even got you the damn mods." She flipped an errant lock of hair out of her eyes and fixed him with a cold stare. "What exactly have I done to warrant your distaste, Detective?"

"We could start with your disregard for protocol, or the fact that you endangered the lives of countless civilians in the Wards, or your abuse of Spectre authority to acquire firearms for an illegal sting."

Shepard guffawed, staring at him in absolute shock. "You're kidding me, right?" she laughed, "I brought down your smuggler so a civilian wouldn't have to, and you're getting on my case about endangering innocents?" She shook her head and settled into her hip. "Fuck off, Detective."

He was on his feet in an instant, chair flying back into the wall with a bang. Her head swung around when he slammed both fists onto his desk to find he was visibly seething. "You fired a wide-spread weapon in a crowded district!"

"You were going to send a teenager!" Shepard countered, storming over. She slammed one hand onto his desk, the other pointing an accusing finger at his sour expression. "Don't give me this bullshit, Detective, I helped you! The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can pull that stick out of your ass and fucking relax!"

She heard his angry growl, but before she could react, an iron grip grabbed the back of her head and pulled, making her rise on her toes to keep him from ripping her hair out. Yet when she tried to break free, she became aware of warm breath on her neck, and the feel of what she was sure were teeth.

"Give me an excuse, Shepard," he breathed against her throat as she strained to stay on her toes. She reached with one hand for where he held her by the hair, but he caught her hand and pinned it to her side. "Why should I let you go out there to cause more trouble?"

She smirked, testing the limits of his hold to fix him with a sultry look. "Want me all to yourself, Detective? You could have asked," she purred, feeling his grip slacken in surprise at her brazenness. Pressing her advantage, Shepard tore free and dove across the desk, bearing the turian to the ground with a spectacular crash. A quick scuffle, and she was on top him, straddling his torso and pinning his arms to his sides. "But I don't think you could handle it." Truthfully, she just didn't take kindly to being messed around, and Chellick's shit attitude had been bothering her from the first second. This was just a great excuse to beat the living shit out of him. Yet as he glared up at her from his place on the ground, Chellick no longer looked angry but… possessed. Not by a demon, or rage, but by something else. His mandibles were pulled tight to his face and her grin widened. "Cat got your tongue, Detective?"

Her teasing made his eyes narrow and a low growl rumble from his chest. Before she could place it, she was on her back, the Detective looming over her; a brief struggle told her he had her caged, his knees on either side of her hips, and his hands holding her wrists down. "Hardly," he murmured, leaning down to inhale her scent from the side of her neck. "Stop me."

"Why?" she challenged, adrenaline spiking in her blood. Fuck reasonable, she was chasing a crazy rogue Spectre across the galaxy to stop him from bringing a race of nightmare-machines back from dark space. No thanks, she did not need to be thinking about why she shouldn't be letting the arrogant detective pin her to the floor when that was what awaited her back on her ship. "Scared of the little human, Detective?"

"You wish." He switched his hold on her wrists to one hand, tearing her shirt open with the other. Buttons scattered, skittering across the tiles and she lifted her hips to let him drag her pants down her legs.

"Are you going to have your way with me, Detective?" she simpered, humor sparkling in her eye, but he didn't laugh.

"Shut up."

Huh. Simple and uncomplicated. She liked his style. Chellick didn't bother taking his armor off, only removing his codpiece and pulling his erection from within his undersuit. He hiked her leg up over his hip and thrust into her hard, making her body arch as she bit hard on her lip. He wasn't holding back, and she wasn't going to stop him. She didn't care that he was just using her—she was using him just the same—and she savored the possibility that she'd have bruises to remember this encounter by.

But that wasn't to say she was going to let him think he was winning. Shepard twisted her arms free and rolled them over, his length still buried inside of her. At his surprised expression, she smirked and lifted herself almost completely off of him, then pressed back down hard. His breath left him in a rush, and Shepard could hear the beginnings of a desperate keen in the depths of his chest. She rode him hard, relishing the feeling of his talons dragging down her back as he thrust up to meet her.

"Spirits, Shep—"

She covered his mouth with her hand and shook her head; she wasn't going to let him complicate this with names and feelings. She'd learned her lesson with Nihlus and ignored it with Oraka. Now, she was putting her foot down on her silly feminine brain and doing the best thing: meaningless, satisfying sex. His grip on her hips tightened and she reached between them to give herself that last push. A few passes of her thumb over her clit and she came with a shuddering moan. Chellick's eyes went wide and he struggled to stifle his own roar of satisfaction, his talons biting into the skin of her shoulders as he filled her with his seed.

When her heart had slowed, Shepard carefully disentangled herself from the turian detective and stood, stretching before casually redressing as if nothing had happened.

"Spirits, I… Shepard…" Chellick was slow to stand, mandibles twitching erratically as Shepard quickly retied her ponytail. He reattached the codpiece of his armor and fell into his chair with a huff.

"First human, Chellick?" she asked with an amused smile.

"Yes…"

"Oh, you'll learn." She chuckled and hastily rebuckled her belt, but stared in dismay at her ruined shirt. How was she going to get back to her ship without drawing attention to the fact that her shirt lacked all its necessary parts?

"I, uh… I suppose I owe you an apology for my behavior, before, and—"

"You were stressed, so was I," she interrupted, wrapping her shirt as tightly as she could around her torso and tucking the hem into her pants. It just had to stay until she got to the elevator and she'd be home free. "Don't overthink this, Detective."

For a second, he looked shocked. Whatever he had been expecting her reaction to be, that hadn't been it. "I… Of course. Right."

"Good. Tell Jenna she doesn't need to inform for you anymore, and we'll be done." Just like that, she was back to business and Chellick straightened automatically.

"Of course, I'll notify her immediately. I… Thank you, Commander."

Shepard nodded in acknowledgement and headed for the door. She rounded the corner, ready to make a run for the elevator, and slammed into something very solid. In her surprise, she fell backwards and landed hard on her ass, shock written on her face.

"Commander! I didn't see you." The familiar blue visor made her cheeks flush as she took the offered hand. Garrus hauled her back to her feet and she quickly retucked her shirt, thankful that he didn't seem to realize what she'd just accidently shown him.

"No problem, Garrus. I'm not hurt." She forced a friendly smile and he returned it nervously. "What brings you back here?"

"Just wanted to check in with some of the guys I used to work with. Oh, and Engineer Adams said we should be ready to go in about an hour."

"Excellent, well, I'll… see you on the ship." Shepard stepped around the young sniper and all but ran down the stairs toward the elevator. Two minutes earlier, and the kid would have gotten quite the show.

Garrus stared after her for a moment, confusion written in the set of his mandibles, but quickly shook it off and stepped into his friend's office. "Hey Chellick, what's—"

"Spirits, Vakarian, don't you knock?!"

Garrus started at the sudden panic in the other detective's voice, surveying his ex-coworker with uncertainty. Something was off; Chellick was never flustered, yet as he played at reorganizing his desk, Garrus could see that the other turian was hiding something. Even the air seemed to be off and… He stopped, inhaling slowly to scent the air.

What the hell?

"Vakarian, I can explain."

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