Kaidan reached into a nearby basket, scooping up a set of cheap wooden chopsticks. Cracking the fused pair in half, he placed them on his tray along with some futomaki and a steeping cup of green tea.
"It's been a long time," he said, breaking the stunned silence. "Did you have a good talk with Anderson?"
After endless rounds of Skyllian Five with Tali, Ken and Gabby, Shepard had developed a pretty good poker face. Nevertheless, it was hard not to feel flustered, imagining the accusations behind his eyes. "About as good as can be expected. I didn't realize you'd been keeping up with my itinerary."
She drummed her fingers on the stainless steel counter, watching as the chefs sliced avocado into neat green stacks and rolled sticky rice around tender slabs of salmon. The salarian prepping her meal was a fast worker, his deft fingers in constant motion, but he still wasn't nearly quick enough.
"I was curious," Kaiden replied. "I figured to might be interesting to find out what a ghost does in her spare time."
"My goals haven't changed, Kaidan. I'm still serving the Alliance. You'd know that if you'd heard me out on Horizon."
She was expecting him to protest, but he didn't take the bait. Instead, he just squinted a little, rubbing the back of his hand across his crinkled forehead as if he felt another migraine coming on.
"This isn't easy for me, Shepard. Maybe I should've – done things differently, but hindsight is 20-20. I can't change the past."
She picked up her lunch and paid the cashier with a quick swipe of her credit chit, then headed towards one of the corner booths.
"Why are you here, Kaidan? Maybe it's just the sushi, but there's something awfully fishy about this."
"Maybe I wanted to talk about old times."
"Maybe," she said provisionally, sliding into the far side of the booth.
Undeterred by her brusqueness, Kaidan sat down across from her and took a long sip of his tea. It scorched his lips and he gave a start, rattling his tray with his elbow.
"I get the feeling you aren't happy to see me," he said.
Shepard gave a grudging smile. Kaidan could be thoughtful, even eloquent on occasion, but he'd always had a real talent for stating the obvious.
"The timing is just...questionable. And you still haven't given me a straight answer. Why are you here?"
He looked her dead in the eyes, his voice calm and controlled, eminently reasonable. "I'd like to get back on the mission, Commander. I've already received permission from Alliance Command. I realize that we've had certain differences of opinion, but I can't stand idly by while the Reapers threaten the entire galaxy. Don't cut me out of this just because I might've made a mistake."
She chewed on a piece of vegetable maki while she formulated her response. He seemed sincere enough, but with his reticent manner and those sad puppy dog eyes, it would be pretty hard for Kaidan Alenko not to seem genuine.
"You'd be an asset to the team, Kaidan. I won't deny that. But things...things are different now."
He frowned, a deep furrow carving between his brows. His hands balled into fists and then fanned out again, fingers white-knuckling the table. "I know. I watch the news."
"And you still want to come along for the ride? I know you're a good guy, but that's unusually generous, even for you. Are you sure this is just your choice?"
"Who else would be choosing for me?"
"Admiral Hackett, for one. Possibly Udina. Could be, they think I need a babysitter. Someone who's familiar with the crew. Someone whose loyalty to the Alliance is unquestionable. Someone a lot like you."
Kaidan paused for a moment, wetting his lips. "If that were the case, would it make a difference? I'd still be there to help out. I'd still be doing my duty."
"And you'd be hating every minute of it."
"I'm a professional," he stated. "Before what happened between you and I...happened, I was aware of the potential for emotional complications. For discomfort. There's a reason why they have rules against fraternization. Regardless, I can put my personal feelings aside and do my job."
"That's an admirable sentiment. If you can put it into practice, then you're a better soldier than I."
"I'm not saying it wouldn't be difficult. You – really did a number on me, Shepard."
She poked at her food with a chopstick, trying to resist the urge to offer a snappy retort, something that would wound him as much as he'd hurt her on Horizon.
"No hard feelings, but maybe you should bow out of this one," she said, finally. "Tell the Alliance I wouldn't let you on the ship. They can't punish you for that."
He flinched, his dark eyes turning doleful. "Is that what you really want?"
"I think it's best this way," she murmured. "For both of us."
"What if it isn't what I want?"
"I'm not going to bar you from the Normandy, Alenko. I just don't think it's advisable. But if you really want to come along, if the Alliance insists, then I'm not going to object."
"Alright. Well, guess I'll see you on the Normandy then, Commander."
Rising to his feet, he sidestepped out of the booth and picked up his tray of half-eaten food. Shepard's gaze followed him as he dumped the remaining futomaki into a nearby garbage bin and strode away from the tea shop.
She'd never known Kaidan to stop eating until he'd scraped every morsel off his plate and sopped up the left-over sauce with chunks of bread, for good measure. As far as she could tell, he'd been one of those kids who'd been brought up to "clean his plate". He must have lost his appetite.
After she finished her lunch, she got on the radio to let Joker know that Kaidan would be joining them on the Normandy.
"For real?" Joker said. "When did this place become a soap opera? Does this mean Miranda has a good twin? Oh wait, we already met her."
"We're all professionals. I think we can handle it."
She couldn't see Joker's face, but she could picture him rolling his eyes.
"Yeah, sure. So tell me, Commander, if Garrus and Kaidan got into a fight, who do you think would win? 'Cause if it's a fist fight, I say Garrus. But if we're going to allow biotics..."
"Joker, we have got to get you some sensitivity training. Stat."
She flicked off her radio before he could give another smart-ass reply.
Jacob was the first person she encountered upon returning to the Normandy.
"Just wanted to give you a heads-up - Staff Commander Alenko has reported for duty," he said. "Seems like a decent enough guy. Now that Samara's left, I figured we could let him use her old quarters. He's down there now, unpacking his stuff."
"Sounds like a plan. Thanks, Jacob."
Jacob always seemed to get excited at the prospect of new recruits to the team and would hang around the main deck to set himself up as the official welcoming party. It could be that he liked making new friends. Or perhaps he figured vigilance was the best way to head off trouble. In any case, Shepard appreciated his sense of hospitality, especially back when they were still flying around under the Cerberus banner. It saved her time making introductions and giving tours, but more importantly, it kept new team members from getting acquainted with Miranda and her ice-queen attitude, at least until after the ship pulled out of port. That was important for employee retention.
She headed back up to her quarters and checked her private extra-net account, the one that had been giving Kelly a headache earlier in the day. Her mailbox was packed to capacity with messages, including a hysterical "open letter" from Charles Saracino of the Terra Firma Party, an offer to appear on an upcoming cover of Fornax magazine and another interview request from Emily Wong, complete with promises to be "sympathetic" and "tread lightly". The note from her mother, still posted on the SSV Orizaba, was surprisingly supportive. She kept that one, deleting the rest, and then went hunting for the Westerlund news site on the extra-net.
It didn't take Shepard long to find Al-Jilani's report and the accompanying op-ed column, entitled "Corrupt Spectre loses humanity – in more ways than one". The opinion piece was a classic example of Al-Jilani's scurrilous rhetoric, dishing out every shot it could take at Shepard, Anderson, the Council and the Spectres. Shepard wasn't sure whether to get mad or bust a gut laughing. She found one paragraph particularly choice:
"Aside from Commander Shepard's disturbing sexual deviance and the serious questions it raises about her mental condition, the people of Earth should be worried by the fact that the first human Spectre is getting into bed – both figuratively and literally – with the turians. Can we trust someone who has so much contempt for her own people that she would sacrifice thousands of human lives and risk a geth force overrunning the galaxy in order to save an undemocratic Council and curry favour with alien races? Shepard's violent temper and erratic, impulsive behaviour, readily in evidence when she assaulted the writer of this column, are further reasons why the Alliance should distance itself from a petulant xenophile who has shown time and again that she is not ready to represent humanity on the galactic stage."
Underneath the bold black text was a picture of her dancing with Garrus at the Dark Star. The photographer had timed the shot perfectly, capturing the turian's hand on her shoulder and the smile spreading across her face as she replied to one of his wisecracks.
The caption underneath read, "A C-Sex Scandal?: Commander Jillian Shepard shares an intimate moment with a turian, tentatively identified as rogue C-Sec Officer and long-time shipmate Garus Vakkarian." She wondered if it would be impolitic to write Al-Jilani and inform her that she'd managed to misspell both portions of Garrus' name. The woman wouldn't be winning any Pulitzers for this so-called 'exposé'.
Shepard was so busy poring over the outrageous article that she didn't notice the door slide open behind her. It didn't occur to her that she wasn't alone until Garrus leaned over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the picture on the screen. She clicked the window shut, a guilty conscience quickening her reflexes.
"Just seeing it now?" he said. "Wish they hadn't chosen that picture. The lighting is all wrong. And they caught my bad side."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drag you into this."
"Hey, don't look so down, Shepard. At least you're photogenic."
She stood from her chair and spun around to face him. "So you're okay with this then? This complete and utter bullshit?"
"No. It pisses me off. But I'm not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing it. Or of letting it affect the really important things."
She gazed up at him, trying to assess what was going on behind that stoic turian demeanour. "You sure you want to take this route? It could be a rough ride. For both of us."
"Look, I was cautious coming in to this. I'll admit it. I wasn't sure how it would work," he replied. "But it's been good. It's been...surprising. Besides, you know me, Shepard, once I've committed myself to something, it takes a minimum of three merc gangs and a gunship to get me out."
He gave a nervous chuckle and then his long arms encircled her, folding her into his chest. Her eyes squeezed shut, her body relaxing into the embrace. Shepard had never enjoyed the idea of playing the damsel in distress, not by a long shot, but there was something very reassuring about the way he held her. It made her feel – well, damn, it made her feel protected. And she was surprised by how much she could get to like that.
"I'd never accuse you of not being determined, Garrus. I just want to make sure this is worth it for you."
His answer came faster than she expected. "It's worth it."
"Okay. That's good to hear."
Garrus adjusted his targeting visor, looking a bit self-conscious, as if hit by the sudden realization that he'd just done something that would've gotten him beat up on the mean streets of Omega. "Before we finish this heart-warming, touchy-feely discussion and get back to sticking it to Cerberus and shooting the bad guys, I was hoping you could answer a question for me."
Shepard's eyes shot open, her teeth clenching together. Shit. Joker had probably given him a heads-up about their newest recruit and she could already anticipate what he was going to say. Please don't ask about Kaidan, she thought, please don't ask about...
"Are we still going to Palaven?" he asked. "Because I was kind of looking forward to seeing my father. I mean, it's not a big deal or anything, but hey, figured I'd mention it. I haven't seen the old guy in a couple of years and I wouldn't mind checking up. You know, just to make sure he still disapproves of me."
"Sure, Palaven it is," she said, smiling up at him with more than a little relief. "Might as well make all of Al-Jilani's worst nightmares come true."
"I like the way you think."
Udina wouldn't like it and the Citadel press would probably have a field day, but they already had it out for her. Why let them interfere with Spectre business? Hell, in turian space, maybe her reputation as an alien-loving Council puppet would actually do her some good.
"You know, when you see the Palaven Hills, I think you're going to be impressed," he said. "Just don't drink the water."
As tempting as it was to procrastinate, it occurred to her that she couldn't skirt around the issue of Alenko forever. There was no way Garrus was going to fail to observe that their former crewmate had taken up residence in the Starboard Observatory. And if she didn't bother to comment on it, maybe that fact would seem even more suspect.
"Garrus, there's one thing I should tell you. When I went to see Councillor Anderson today, I ran into someone."
His gaze shifted down to the floor, as if he'd suddenly developed a keen interest in the pattern of the tiles. "Alenko. Yeah, I heard."
"The Alliance wanted him on the Normandy. I made the concession."
He paused for a moment, weighing his words. "Alright, well, it'll be good to have him back. He's a team player."
"He is. I just want to let you know that he and I are over. There's nothing there anymore."
He nodded, but she couldn't help but notice the icy glint in his pale eyes, pupils contracting into black stones. "Shepard, if you tell me it's over, then it's over. I trust you."
"Thanks. That's nice to hear."
"Of course, if it...isn't over, if something changes - well, I hope I'll be the first to know."
She reached up, stroking a hand along the cool plate of his neck and then up along his fringe. "You don't need to worry about that."
"I'm not worried. I'm just saying."
"And I'm just telling you that you're the one I want."
His hand enveloped hers. It was funny how he could do that, considering she easily outnumbered him in the 'having fingers' department. She could feel his pulse fluttering against the cords of his throat. It jolted faster when she pressed against him, her free hand grasping the jut of his hip.
"That – that's good to know, Shepard."
