Zaeed wondered how much more of an emotional battering Shepard could take. He had the feeling he might be in for a few more hours of crappy sci-fi movies, given the look on her face when she finally returned, shivering with cold and the ghosts of the past.
She walked past them all in the mess with a purposeful stride, grabbed a dusty bottle of wine from the back of one of Rupert's cupboards (he had no idea how she had known it was there) and disappeared into the elevator. Joker eased himself down into the chair next to Garrus.
"Tough day, huh?" Garrus asked the pilot.
"The worst," Joker said. He looked as if he had been turned inside out, drawn and pale. Zaeed briefly wondered if there was any more of that wine still hidden in the cupboards, the pilot certainly seemed like he needed it.
"You know it wasn't your fault, right?" Garrus said, resting his talons lightly on Joker's forearm.
"What would you know? You weren't even there. You'd done your bit, fucked off home. I don't need to hear it, Garrus, not from you," Joker pulled his arm away, dragged himself to his feet.
"Joker – wait," Garrus said, but Joker ignored him, limping back to the elevator and his place of safety, the cockpit.
The turian sighed. "I suppose I'd better go after him, apologise. You okay to clear up here, Zaeed?"
"Sure thing. Go sort him out," Zaeed replied, already gathering up the dominoes, cards and empty coffee cups which littered the mess table.
He thought he ought to go and see if Shepard was coping. If Joker was such a mess it couldn't bode well for her, given that she had actually died down there. The look on her face when she'd come back, though – she really hadn't looked like she wanted conversation or company. He dithered.
"Commander, apologies for the interruption but Mr Massani is downstairs muttering to himself about coming to speak to you. He seems uncertain about your favourable response. I thought you might like to be aware."
Shepard lifted her head from the pillow where she had buried her face, screaming silently into the bedding. Her cheeks were stained with drying tears and her face was red and blotchy. She really did not feel like company, but perhaps it might do her some good. After all, Zaeed was hardly likely to want to talk about emotional matters. Maybe they could just get drunk together and bitch about everything.
"Send him up, EDI," she said, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
"Are you quite certain, Commander?" EDI actually seemed concerned. Shepard could never quite get her head around an AI sounding so human.
"Yes please, EDI. And could you ask him to bring up some more of that wine? It's in the third cupboard along, tucked behind that brown rice that nobody ever touches."
"Will do, Shepard."
Zaeed buzzed on Shepard's door, clutching the last two bottles of wine from the kitchen. He was surprised that she had asked to see him, and he had quickly gone back to his room to smarten up. Why bother, he thought to himself, it's not like you're on a date. But there was still a part of him that wanted Shepard to see him at his best. For all that was worth.
"Come in, Zaeed," Shepard called, the door sliding open.
"I brought reinforcements," he said, waving the bottles.
"Just what I needed." She took the bottles from him, immediately opening one of them and pouring herself a large measure. The bottle she had previously taken from the kitchen lay empty on its side on the low table, dripping slow claret tears on to the surface.
Zaeed filled a second glass and sat down beside her, putting his feet up on the table.
"Sometimes, Shepard, the world is full of shit," he said simply, raising the glass.
"I'll drink to that," she said, her voice only slightly slurred for the alcohol she had already consumed. She clinked her glass against his, spilling some of the wine on to her hoodie, before taking a long swig.
They drank in silence for some minutes.
"I ever tell you , Zaeed, about the time I accidentally shot my teacher at N-School?" Shepard said eventually, leaning back against the cushions of the sofa.
"You know, Shepard, it's usually me bending your ear with my old stories. Not heard many of yours," he said. "You shot your teacher and still passed? Only you could get away with that one."
"Yeah, well, I was brilliant," she smirked at him. "And that teacher was a sly old perv. Mightn't have been as accidental as I made out."
"Must have been a goddamn fool to try any moves on you," Zaeed said.
"Ha. Most people are too scared to, which makes actually forming relationships pretty damn difficult. Not this guy though, sleazy bastard," she said. "Anyway, we were in some combat simulation and I was on point. We were supposed to have those red blanks in our guns, you know the ones, so they could pinpoint our shot accuracy without actually using live ammo. Only, whoops, I forgot and loaded my pistol wrong."
Zaeed sniggered. "What happened, Shepard?"
"Guy came up way too close behind me, I spun round and unloaded my Carnifex right into his groin. Swore blind I'd given the whole squad instructions to lay low, so that I expected anyone coming up on my back would've been an enemy."
"You never gave him those instructions, I'm guessing."
"You got it. Only, rest of the squad backed me up. They knew what he was like," Shepard said, taking another gulp of wine. Zaeed was pretty sure you should sip that stuff, but like hell was he going to mention that in the mood she was in.
"And nobody said anything about your live ammo?"
"Said I'd taken the rounds from the blanks crate. When they checked the crate, the guy that audited it said he'd found half a dozen more live rounds mixed in with the blanks. Just bad luck I guess that I'd picked one of them up," Shepard grinned at him wickedly.
"Don't tell me," Zaeed said.
"The guy lied to cover my back, sure. Nobody liked that damn teacher."
"Shot in the bits, though, fucking hell. That had to hurt," Zaeed said.
Shepard looked at him in amusement, huffing out a surprised laugh. "Bits!"
"What?"
"You refer to your, you know, as bits?"
"Better than "you know"," Zaeed said defensively, biting back a smile.
Shepard blushed suddenly and didn't quite know where to look. The conversation had taken an odd turn.
"Well, Shepard, after that little story I guess I had better remember to wear my codpiece at all times when we're in a fight," he said.
"Zaeed, you don't have to worry. I wouldn't do a thing to harm your bits," she said, elbowing him in the side.
"Better not. I'm rather fond of them, you know," he said, lightly.
Shepard actually giggled then. Christ, he thought, he didn't even think she was capable of making a sound like that. Let alone on a day like today.
She leaned over and refilled both their glasses.
"You know, Zaeed, when I first met you I thought you would be an unpleasant, bitter old bastard. I fully admit I only went through with the Illusive Man's suggestion to recruit you because I was pretty desperate for some crew members who weren't Cerberus flunkies."
"Gee, thanks," he said, shaking his head.
"No, come on, give me a chance here," she said, looking him in the eye and reaching out to grab his hand. "What I want to say is that I was wrong. You've been a good friend to me, the right kind of friend. Exactly what I need, in among all this chaos. So, thank you. I know I've said it before, but I really mean it."
"Been a long time since I've had a friend, Shepard. Not sure I've ever really been any good at it. Glad I've helped though, a little bit."
"More than a little bit, Zaeed," she said, her gaze intense now. "There's times I think I will never feel happy again, but then you come along and the shit all goes away, even if only for a while."
She squeezed his hand and they sat silently staring into each other's eyes.
Zaeed broke the spell. "My pleasure, Shepard," he said, his eyes sliding away and his voice gruff.
He felt elated and embarrassed all at once. If the sofa could have swallowed him whole right then, he would have welcomed it. This was too much for him, the feelings overwhelming. There was a lump in his throat and his cheeks burned, his scar a hot rope across his face.
Shepard's arm slid around his waist and her head leaned against his shoulder. At least, sitting like this, he didn't have to look at her face and see the raw emotion in it. He closed his eyes, back rigid and tense.
"Relax, Zaeed," Shepard said, sleepily. "I don't bite."
He couldn't relax any more than he could dance the professional tango. Her body was too close, too warm. All he could do was count backwards from one hundred in his head, several times, before he heard her soft snoring.
Gently, he extricated himself from her grasp and lay her down on the sofa, covering her with a blanket and pouring her a glass of water for when she woke up. He couldn't resist planting a soft kiss on her forehead before letting himself out of her room.