A/N – I wanted to take a moment to explore the relationship between my Shepard and Vega. Hopefully, I did a decent job of explaining how they came to be where they were at the beginning of ME3 and what he means to her. If you're not aware, the story of Anderson hand picking him to escort/guard Shepard is canon, it was published in the comic Mass Effect: Convictions
She was bored. Restless. She wished that there was something she could kill, some mission to accomplish, she thought, sighing, staring out the window. She found it the height of irony that Commander (Captain, she corrected herself with an inward wince) Shepard could save the galaxy – twice – but be defeated by such a simple thing as boredom. She shifted restlessly on the hard hospital bed, wincing again as she was reminded of the myriad of injuries that were now making themselves known and closed her eyes. Maybe she could sleep for a few hours until Kaidan was done with his updates and reports. She sighed again. God she was bored.
Lt. James Vega entered the room and saw her shifting restlessly a few minutes later, frown lines between her eyes, and decided he had picked a good time for a visit. She looked like she needed some company. He entered the room and approached her bed greeting her with a cheerful, "Hey, Lola, you look like you could use something to hit."
She chuckled and he was pleased to see the warmth and welcome come over her face and he planted himself in the chair next to her bed.
"I don't think I'm up for a dance today, James," she drawled out, in their typical banter, "not even pull-ups for that matter."
He remembered now her doggedly refusing quit on that pullup bar until she had broken his "record" and decided he would never tell her that he had deliberately doubled his number thinking she would never top it. That she had served as another reminder of why no one should ever underestimate this woman.
"Oh yeah?" he replied, smirking, "I'm up to 185 now." A deliberate challenge presented with a raised eyebrow.
"Give me another month," she sallied back, and he believed her. "Although, don't tell Kaidan please? He had to drag me out of the hot tub after the last time."
Vega laughed as a comical image of the major, soaking wet and supporting a too-sore-to-move Shepard flashed through his head, then he sobered and leaned forward, steepled his hands on his lap and spoke quietly to the woman he had come to respect above any soldier he had ever met before. "You did it, Shepard, you really did it."
"Looks that way," she replied softly turning her head to look out the window on the far side of the room. "How are things out there?" She inclined her chin towards the view then turned to face him, mask of command in place.
He gave her the honest truth, though he realized it might be hard for her to hear. "Rough, there's still a lot of work to do." That was only a small understatement but she knew him well enough to hear the whole truth. "But it wouldn't be there at all without you," he reminded her.
Shepard nodded once, accepting that statement as the fact it was, then sighed. "I wish we had been able to get here sooner."
James wondered if she ever gave herself the credit she was due, or the break to which she was often entitled, and was reminded, not for the first time, why he had promised himself to become the soldier she was. "No one could have done it better, or faster, Lola. Hell, you mobilized the largest fleet in history after ending not just one but two wars, and you did it all in a few months. I'd say that was plenty soon."
He saw the truth of the words sink in and she relaxed against her pillows and he was glad that she looked so much more like the Shepard he knew than the times he had seen her when she was in the coma. He'd never forget the sick feeling of fear that had gripped him when he realized that he may never again be able to tease and mock her, never again be inspired by the example she had forged for him. Men like him weren't used to helplessness – there was nothing he'd met so scary that he couldn't kill it – but seeing her like that had given him his first acquaintance with the emotion. He wasn't planning on continuing the association.
"So the major has been keeping us busy," he informed her, knowing she'd want to hear updates of the work being done, even if she wasn't up to joining just yet.
"Yeah?" she replied, the question encouraging him to continue.
"Yeah," he affirmed, musing, "he's really taken charge of the whole crew, has us all working on separate projects, things we'd each be good at. He's got a real knack for it. He's not you, of course," another smirk, "but I guess I never realized that he's a good leader. Tough but fair. Not soft, but he always knows when to push and when to back off." James was surprised, even as he heard his own words, to note that this was the first time he'd ever voiced the growing respect he'd found for Kaidan Alenko. He'd always seen the major as more of an accessory to Shepard, but the man had proved over the past month that he deserved every one of the promotions and accolades he'd received on his own merit.
Shepard smiled, appreciating the picture she'd just been painted of Kaidan through another soldier's eyes. She'd always known, of course, that Kaidan was a competent and confident leader, she'd just been too busy commanding him herself to give him the chance to show that side to others. And, she knew now, he had grown and changed in the time they'd been apart, the struggles they had endured, perhaps as a result of them. She made a mental note to tell him later how much she admired the man he had become.
"He's a good man," she told James with a smile. "He asked me to marry him."
James cocked an eyebrow although the news didn't surprise him. The major was a traditional man. "And what did you say Lola? Kick his ass?"
She chuckled softly, thinking he'd be stunned if he knew her actual reaction, and answered, "not quite, I said yes. Eventually."
James laughed at that, typical Shepard, and thought it was a story he'd likely never hear. All the better. Teasing aside, thoughts of his commanding officer in any type of emotional or, worse, sexual, situation were not ones he was willing to entertain.
"Well, congratulations, Lola." He saluted her jauntily.
"That's Mrs. Lola to you now, Lieutenant," was her immediate comeback.
He laughed then lowered his hand and stared down a moment, sobering. "Listen, Lola – Shepard," he corrected himself, "there's something I wanted to say to you. Something I should have said before."
She gazed at him, confused by his sudden sobriety and motioned for him to continue, "Alright, James, let's hear it."
"I wanted to say I'm sorry," he made the confession softly, staring at her face.
"Sorry?" a hint of surprise, even alarm tinged her voice now, "For what?"
"For ever doubting you," he replied. "When we were leaving Earth, I got in your face, questioned you. I shouldn't have done that."
He saw her gather herself visibly, straightening her shoulders, her posture resembling military correct as much as she could accomplish from a hospital bed and she barked out in a commanding and even somewhat angry tone, "Apology not accepted."
His heart sank to think that he may have permanently marred their friendship with those careless and impetuous words, thrown at her in anger, not at her really but at the futile situation, before her next words reassured him.
"I don't expect my officers to follow my orders blindly, James," she told him quietly. "That's not how I run my ship. And you had every right to question. Hell, you were just voicing the doubt we both felt. You don't have to apologize for that."
He gave a sigh of relief before he saw her eyes tighten and knew there was more she had to say.
"You're lucky that only Kaidan saw it." She informed him. "Questions are fine. Disrespect before a subordinate would not have been."
James grinned, accepting the truth of that. That was Shepard to a T. "Noted, ma'am," he snapped her another salute.
He saw her pause for a moment, seeming to come to a decision, then she stunned him with her next words. "I'm glad it was you, James."
"Huh?" he asked, genuinely confused.
"I'm glad you were the one assigned to be my guard, to escort me to Earth, to be there during those six months." She sighed, remembering, and gave mental thanks to Anderson for picking so well.
He had told her, about a month after they returned when she was going crazy in detention, the story of him dragging Vega out of a barfight on Omega . She had questioned her mentor then, wondering why Vega, of all marines. He hadn't given her an answer other than he thought they'd fit, but she saw now, in retrospect, how careful he had been with his choice. How typically insightful and protective he was of her.
Vega's unflappable cheer and teasing had saved her sanity during those months of inaction. That he refused to treat her as a prisoner, continued to show the respect and deference to the rank she no longer held had at first confused her, then pissed her off, then she had finally accepted it as just who he was. They had eventually formed a strong bond and by the time the Reapers had attacked Earth she had come to think of him as a cocky, somewhat annoying, but lovable younger brother. His time on the Normandy during the last months had shown her he was also a talented and fierce soldier, and she had added respect to the list of feelings she had for him. She didn't know if Anderson had been precognitive or just knew them both so well, but it was just another reason she would miss him so much. She sighed, knowing that the ache in her heart would be a long time in healing.
James' reply brought her back to the present. "It was an honor, ma'am," he told her softly.