What If...Conrad Verner was more than just an annoying fan?

A/N: The more I play Mass Effect, the more potential I see in Conrad Verner for him to go from Annoying Fan to obsessed stalker with murder on his mind. This was intended as the second chapter in the ill-fated What If?... series. Couple of disclaimers: 1. this one is a bit Alternate Universe, I guess and 2. Assume Shepard's having a series of bad days when encountering Conrad.

Remmak, if you're reading this and you want me to axe the C-Section chapter, just let me know.

You go
I feel like dropping bombs between your eyes
But not today

Too slow
I feel like sinking arrows in your mind
It's all the same

Powderfinger, Belter

The Kessler felt heavy in Conrad Verner's hand. He realized that his actions may be misconstrued by others, they'd think he was 'taking things too far' or maybe 'taking things personally.' How else was he meant to take it? All he had wanted was for Shepard to acknowledge his existence. Sign her autograph. How hard could it be? Oh, but the high and mighty Commander Shepard was too busy for the likes of him, now that she was a Spectre!

His interest - OK, obsession - with Shepard had started when he'd seen a news vid the day she'd been inducted into the ranks of the Spectres. Conrad had felt so full of pride and admiration, he thought he'd burst. And yeah, the Commander was very attractive as well, scar or no scar. Part of him wondered if he'd have felt so jacked off by her brushing him off if she'd been a man. Then he decided that it didn't matter. She was famous, famous people had certain...responsibilities to their fans. A simple autograph!

"Is that..oh wow! Commander Shepard!" he had called out to her as she led a turian and krogan through the markets in the lower Wards. Shepard had paused briefly, looking at him with her blue eyes, eyes, that on the vids, seemed to sparkle with suppressed mirth as though she realised how over the top the news coverage was. Now her gaze seemed flat and distracted.

"Yeah?" she asked, voice carrying barely disguised irritation.

Conrad's face had fallen slightly at her tone, but he might as well keep on going, "I just want to say how much of an honour," and did her eyes actually roll as he said that? "it is to meet you! I saw you on the news and think it's great that you're out there showing the rest of the galaxy what humanity can do!"

Shepard had seemed almost...put out by his admittedly gushing enthusiasm but she had to expect a certain amount of attention from her fans, she was famous, after all. "Can I do something for you?" she had asked and look of utter horror flickered across her face, almost as though she'd realised her words could be wrongly interpreted. That she could feel that about him, well, that was when Conrad began to reassess his judgement of the Commander.

"Could I get an autograph?" he had asked, pressing on regardless.

"What? Look we're in the middle of something important here, I really have to be going. Sorry!" she had called back over her shoulder as she led the pair of aliens away. Conrad had felt as though she'd punched him the stomach. Something important? How dare she! He was important, humanity was important. Bad enough that she had totally blown him off but to go around with a pair of aliens? What did that say about the great Commander Shepard's regard for her own species if she'd rather spend time with turians and krogan? Turians had declared war on humanity not all that long ago and krogan...well krogan were blood-thirsty marauding savages. Everybody knew that.

Feeling dejected, and nursing growing feelings of righteous indignation, it was then that Conrad Verner's thoughts began to move along somewhat darker paths.

Weeks passed as Conrad went about his work, always keeping an eye on the vids for anything about the Normandy and Shepard. His initial innocent interest was slowly being replaced by a much darker set of emotions. His wife noticed his preoccupation with the Spectre and had asked jokingly, "Is she your new squeeze, Conrad?"

"No. She's nothing to me," he had flatly replied, fighting to keep the simmering rage in check.

Two months after the initial encounter in the Wards, Shepard had again arrived on the Citadel. The news was abuzz with vague reports of troubles surrounding a research installation on Noveria but few facts were available. Conrad figured Shepard'd had something to do with it. Again, Conrad was browsing through the lower markets and again, Shepard had appeared, this time with an asari in tow. The asari was practically falling over her own feet in her haste to keep up with the longer legged woman. The look on blue-skinned woman's face was one of unbridled admiration. Conrad had seen the look on his own face in the mirror once. Not any more.

Deciding he owed it to himself, if nobody else to give it one more try, Conrad got Shepard's attention. The Spectre stood still for a few moments, that flat look in her eyes again. The asari spoke something into her ear, too softly for him to hear. Shepard, almost grudgingly it seemed, walked up to Conrad.

"Hello, Conrad," Shepard said, voice neutral. Well, she remembers your name at least. There's a point in her favour.

"I was wondering if I could take your picture?" Conrad asked, making sure to put a big cheese-eating grin on his face and inject a big dose of adoring fan into his voice. Shepard seemed about to refuse him again when the asari spoke up.

"Perhaps you should allow him to take your photograph, Commander. Where is the harm in that?"

Gritting her teeth as though feeling actual physical pain at the idea, Shepard nodded. "OK," she said, unenthusiastically.

"Just hold your gun out like this," Conrad demonstrated, pointing an imaginary pistol into the distance. Eyeing him bemusedly, Shepard unholstered her sidearm, ejected the ammunition block and mimicked his position.

Conrad used his omni-tool to capture her image, "Thanks a lot, Commander. I'm going to hang this in my living room! My wife will be so impressed," oh but it pained him to act the fool like that and the look Shepard gave him as she reloaded and holstered the sidearm wasn't doing him any favours either.

"No, no she won't, Conrad," Shepard replied, bluntly. Beside her the asari seemed shocked by the Spectre's behaviour.

"Think about it, you hang a picture of a woman who isn't your wife in your living room and you think she'll be impressed by that? If it were me, I'd be thinking divorce."

"Shepard!" the asari gasped.

"I'm just saying. Look, Conrad, we gotta run. Take care," and just like that she was gone again.

"Bitch," Conrad muttered when she was safely out of earshot. She may be a Spectre but what right did that give her to treat her fans so casually? Before he could think too much about what he was doing, Conrad Verner found an arms dealer in the lower Wards and bought a pistol. Shepard thought she could just ignore her fans and walk all over their emotions? Well, Conrad Verner would show her.

"Conrad! Is that a gun?" his wife asked in a shrill voice as she witnessed him loading the weapon. Conrad rolled his eyes. He knew he should have waited until he was locked up in his study to begin playing with it.

"It's alright, honey," he replied, trying to soothe her. The last thing he needed right now was for Ellen to flip out about his owning a gun.

"But it's a gun!" Ellen said, unmollified.

"Ellen, it's for self-defense when I'm visiting the Wards. There's been a lot of crime down there, lately," which was quite true. Though much of the shooting that happened in the Wards in recent times had been directly attributed to Shepard.

"Fine, just keep that thing locked up when you're not using it!" Ellen said. Conrad rolled his eyes again.

"Yes, dear," he replied dully, in the grand tradition of put-upon husbands the galaxy over.

Now, Conrad Verner stood in the shadows of the lower markets, feeling the hum of life from the various species around him. He was a part of them, but at the same time, separate from them. He had a purpose now. It wasn't anything as noble as saving the galaxy but, in his defense, Conrad felt that the salvaging of his own self respect was equally as important. To himself, if nobody else.

The Kessler was heavy in his hands as he waited for the Commander, that high and mighty bitch, to arrive. She would, sooner or later, it was just a matter of time. He'd caught word on the news on his way to work that morning that the Normandy was again docked at the Citadel. So, for the first time in forever, Conrad had called in sick at the office and gone to wait for Shepard in the markets.

Conrad had spent altogether too much time in recent months, poring over the information on Shepard that was commonly available on the extranet and he felt as though he'd gotten to know her about as well as he could, without actually sitting down and, God forbid, having a conversation with her. Shepard appeared to be a creature of habit - every time she visited the Citadel, she made the rounds of the various traders, seeming to favour the rabble in the lower Wards. With her upbringing on Earth and running with gangs as a kid, he shouldn't have been so surprised by her low standards.

Be that as it may, Shepard's predictability as far as her shopping habits went, would be her undoing. And look here, there was the Spectre herself, coming out of her ivory tower to slum it with us poor schmucks, Conrad thought bitterly. Even better, she was alone for once. No turians or krogan, or starry-eyed asari. This was the best chance he would have to show her just what her behaviour towards him had wrought.

Keeping the gun hidden behind his back, Conrad stepped out of the shadows as the Spectre passed his position. Before he could think about what he was doing, and freeze up, he pressed the barrel of his weapon against the back of Shepard's head. She froze instantly.

"Hello, Shepard," Conrad spoke quietly into her ear, his breath disturbing a few strands of black hair.

"Conrad, what the hell are you playing at?" she replied, and did he hear a slight catch in her voice? He rather thought he did. The great Commander Shepard, taken by surprise by a civilian! This was golden!

"All I wanted from you was for you to sign your autograph," he went on, speaking slowly and clearly so she wouldn't miss a word. "That's all I wanted. A simple autograph!" he ground out, voice rising on the last word. "But could you give me even that much? Nooo! You were too busy playing the big hero to bother with your fans!"

"And you think shooting me right here is going to improve your situation?" Shepard replied. Swallowing hard, Shepard went on, "Conrad, I'm sorry for the way I treated you before but I really do have a lot to deal with." She winced as he ground the Kessler's barrel into the back of her neck.

"Oh, she has a lot to deal with! Well forgive me for showing an interest! Who do you think you are, to treat the people who admire you and look up to you like that? Huh?"

"Verner, either shoot me dead or leave me the hell alone but don't you stand there whining about how I'm letting the fans down. I know I'm letting them down. I'm not the perfect person they make me out to be on the vids." her shoulders slumped as she sighed heavily.

Conrad paused, the gun shaking slightly in his hand. She did seem genuinely apologetic for her behaviour. Maybe he had taken things a bit too far? Lost in thought and appalled by what he had almost done, Conrad didn't notice, until it was too late, that Shepard was turning to face him.

Grasping his gun hand with a firm grip, Shepard bore down on Conrad's wrist, forcing him to release the pistol. It clattered to the floor between their feet, unnoticed by the milling crowds around them. Shepard pulled her own sidearm and jammed the weapon up under Conrad's jaw. His heart immediately began beating harder and a bead of sweat ran from his hairline and into his eye, stinging.

"Conrad, there are certain things I don't tolerate. Being bailed up by people who think I owe them something is one of them. The only reason I'm not going to shoot you right now is because I don't want to make a widow of your wife. I've done that too many times, recently. I am, however going to drag your sorry ass to C-Sec for them to take care of. From now on, stay out of my way."