Author Note: Thank all of you that reviewed, favorited, and followed the story (it makes me smile each time I see a new alert. :D
Aya001: It was extremely difficult to get Shepard to walk away (mostly because I wanted to punch Adria too), but she took the higher road. Thank you for the lovely review (don't worry, I sometimes forget to review stories I read too). ;)
Azucuache: I very nearly almost didn't write Shepard's council meeting. Thank you for being excited for that!
I do not own Mass Effect and, in no way (unfortunately), shape, or form associated with Bioware.
There was a large part of her that wanted to turn around and go back to that bar and tell Adria the truth- that she wanted to punch her (when her hand twitched a little to her waist, she conceded that she kind of wanted to shoot her) in the face.
While she admitted that she needed to get to the embassy to meet with the Council, she couldn't honestly say that she was nearly buzzed enough (and, for that, she cursed Cerberus and their irritating accomplishment with speeding up her metabolism...and that Asari waitress as well). Instead, she headed down to the Zakera ward to visit her favorite Turian bartender for a few drinks- at least she knew that he would serve her as many shots of Ryncol as she wanted.
Pleasantly trashed (and eight other shots later), she reached the embassy. It was thrilling to wonder whether or not she would be able to stay on her feet, let alone whether she would be able to find Councilor Udina's office.
Many expletives threatened to be released as she thought about the former ambassador. So much for choosing Anderson all those years ago. Well, at least she had the pleasurable knowledge that Anderson had punched him so hard that he passed out. A drunken giggle escaped despite her internal war against it.
"Commander Shepard, the council is waiting to see you," an Asari informed her, letting her know that she had, indeed, found Udina's office. From both her tone (forced ignorance and politeness) and expression (the same as her tone), it was obvious that she could smell the copious amount of alcohol that Shepard had consumed.
Fixing the best approximation of her commander face that she could manage to her face she nodded, "Lead the way, then."
"Commander Shepard, so glad that you could join us," Tevos- the Asari Councilor- said in way of greeting.
Liara looked over as Shepard stood beside her and gave her a disapproving look that spoke legions. "I apologize, Councilors. One of my crew was injured on Mars and was taken to Huerta Memorial."
"As I was saying," Udina said, obviously continuing on a rant he had been on before Shepard had even appeared. "The Reapers arrived at Earth first- humanity has been hardest."
Rolling her eyes, Shepard leaned over to Liara. "Has he been like this the entire time?"
Ignoring her question, Liara gave Shepard a glare that almost rivaled one of her own. "You smell like a semi-clean Krogan, Shepard."
"What does that even mean?" she scoffed.
"It means that you've been drinking enough to put a Krogan in a coma."
There was a pause in the Councilor's debate, giving Shepard a clue that she needed to step up. "The Reaper's have hit Earth. We need everyone- every fleet- to battle them."
"Even if Earth has been hit as hard as you both say, we all have our own worlds to worry about. We too are getting hit by the Reapers," Tevos explained. "We simply can't afford to send our fleets to Earth."
A cruel (very drunk) part of Shepard wanted to say, Ah, yes. "Your worlds." We have dismissed those claims. It was a hard fought internal battle not to say those words.
"The majority of the Reaper fleet is in the Sol system," Shepard said instead, hoping that only she could hear the slurring of her words. From Liara's expression, it wasn't completely unnoticed. "If Earth falls, you are dooming each of your own worlds."
"You can't honestly expect us to abandon our worlds and follow you without a plan," the Turian Councilor- Sparatus- scoffed.
Shepard took a few seconds to respond- had she not, there was a chance she might have called him a pompous ass. "No, Councilor, I don't expect you all to follow me without a plan- it just so happens that we have one," she informed them a bit indignantly.
Liara stepped forward after giving Shepard a look of exasperation. "A plan for a device..."
Instead of listening to Liara, Shepard watched the Councilor's. Specifically, she watched the Salarian Councilor- she struggled to remember his name...ah, that's right, Valern. Because, despite the belief that Tevos was in charge, they always looked to him. Or, perhaps it was because he was the least talkative of the Councilors. She didn't want to think too hard about that. However, he didn't seem too impressed with what Liara was saying.
They were screwed.
"The fact still remains that you don't know what it'll do," Sparatus pointed out. Again Shepard felt her hand twitch (and she decided that, if she was ever going to get drunk again and meet with the Council, she might want to leave her gun in the Normandy).
Tevos looked over at Valern and his head shook. "I'm sorry, Commander, we simply cannot give you the reinforcements you want," she said.
Shepard shook her head. "You may have just cost everyone this war, Councilors."
Together they all stood and walked through a door behind their platforms.
"What was that?" Liara demanded heatedly.
"The damn Councilors keeping their heads stuck in the proverbial sand," Shepard said with a small laugh.
"Not that!" Liara looked Shepard over with a sharp eye. "You knew that we had this meeting, Shepard! Did you really have to drink so much?"
Shepard raised an eyebrow as she began walking to the elevator. "Not that it's your place to question my actions, but yes." She thought about what might have happened if something had happened between Kaidan and Liara. At about that point, she decided that, maybe, that last shot of Ryncol might have been a mistake.
"Ah, you met her. Would you like to-"
Shepard raised a hand. "I'll meet you on the Normandy in two hours. I have a few more errands to run."
Shepard stood outside of the shop, still wondering whether she should buy the dress. She was to be the vanguard- of your destruction, she added silently with an internal, drunken, chuckle- of the most important galactic war that they had ever known, and she was contemplating buying a dress to appease her ego and, possibly, for a man that she had no business being with. She should be spending all her extra creds on gun and armor mods, not frivolous things that she, more than likely, would never wear. With that thought, her drunken minded decided that she was going to buy that dress and damn the consequences.
She walked into the store like she owned it and walked up to the clerk. She tried to lighten her determined look with a regular smile, but it wouldn't appear. "I'm looking to buy that dress," Shepard informed the clerk- a petite little blonde-, pointing at the dress in the window.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but that's the last-" her eyes widened comically and she dropped her magazine. "You're Commander Shepard- here, in my store!"
Shepard felt herself fall into a parade rest- with no thought on her part- and silently berated herself. "Yes, I am."
The clerk rushed from behind the counter and got the dress down. "Anything else?" she asked, practically begging.
"A pair of shoes to go with them." She really couldn't wear her boots with a dress like that. When the clerk showed her a pair of shoes- which were incredibly impractical-, she nodded her assent. "Those will be fine. Please send them to the Normandy on dock bay D24," she advised after paying (way more than was truly feasible in a time of war).
"Have a nice day!" the clerk chimed cheerfully, bring forth a mental reminder of Adria.
Gritting her teeth, Shepard made her way up to Huerta one last time on this trip.
It wasn't technically her fault that she had bumped into a doctor and all of his datapads hit the ground...okay, maybe a little. Still, she could feel the effects of the alcohol fading and, again, cursed Cerberus.
"Shepard!" she heard a familiar voice chime.
"Doctor Michel!" she greeted with a grin.
"I'm assuming you're here about our patient," she said with a small consoling smile.
"How is the Major?" she asked.
"It was pretty touch and go in the beginning, but I believe that he'll make a full recovery. We're doing everything we can for him, Commander."
"Thank you, Doctor." Looking down at her flashing omni-tool, she saw a message from Udina and sighed. "I have a meeting to get to; can you give Kaidan something for me?" She scolded herself for calling Kaidan by his name.
Doctor Michel nodded. "Sure."
Shepard punched a few buttons on her omni-tool and transferred a file to Doctor Michel's omni-tool. "Give this to him if he wakes up and I'm not on the Citadel. Tell him Code Ash. He'll understand."
"I understand."
"Thank you, Doctor."
With a sigh worthy of an onstage drama, Shepard made her way to the Embassy's, the entire time muttering about damn political bullshit.
Author's Note: I'm not going to write about the meeting with Udina. Shepard doesn't even bring up Kaidan to Udina in that meeting, so I'm just going to move on.