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James is on his third beer. And this is beer, not cerveza, since it’s the rankest bottom-of-the-barrel thing they have on the ship. He’s saving the good stuff for good times – especially now that Earth-made booze is a premium.
But he doesn’t want to think about that. Not while sitting on his sore ass, hidden behind weapons crates in his cramped little corner of the cargo bay. Instead, James Vega stretches his legs, plucks his drink off the floor and takes a swig. Because if his old man taught him anything, it was to scurry away before hitting the bottle.
Hell, beer wasn’t the plan for tonight – just poker and a couple bottles of that weird batarian stuff with the boys. Except his luck was crap and the drink hit him kind of funny and now he needs a palate cleanser before bedtime. “Batarian shard wine” had a nice ring to it, and it made him taste colors which was fun, but it made him feel a lot of things and that got old fast. His fault, really – he bought that shit when his translator couldn’t parse the label beyond “Safe for levo-based species” and “May cause bodily experiences or distress”.
For what it’s worth, each swig tastes less rank than the last. Closing his eyes, he slowly drifts off to faraway places. Vega tries to block out the day’s events (which works, for a change), and thinks of warm sand under his feet, a beautiful sunset over azure seas, and blue babes whispering sweet nothings into his ears… Somewhere at the edges of his mind, the babes blue-shift into banshees and the sunset is a Reaper beam and it’s pointing straight at him--but that last beer hit just right and the fantasy comes back into focus.
The steady whoosh of waves vaguely reminds him elevator doors. He’d still be on that beach though, if not for the hurried, even click of officer’s boots on metal. Two people on the Normandy wear those boots, but just one of them can get his heart to beat in time with her stride. James doesn’t open his eyes, listening as Shepard marches down the bay, pops open and starts going through crates.
To be clear, he likes Shepard, respects the hell out of her – among other things – but he’ll be damned if he feels like talking to her now. Touchdown on Thessia was a nightmare, and the evac runs they’ve been doing since then didn’t get any better. He knows all that because she’s dragged him along on nearly every trip. So while she’s not a harpy (Diaz is gonna be cleaning bathrooms for a month for saying that, and she’s lucky it was James that heard her), Shepard has a snakes-instead-of-hair, her-gaze-turns-you-into-a-statue air about her, lately.
Still, curiosity gets the better of him as he sneaks a peek through the space between two crates. Her back is to him, and she’s… downing one of those disgusting biotic-juice-flasks. Why she didn’t get one from the mess hall--nevermind. The Commander is filling the half-drained bottle with tequila now. The good stuff, too, but hey – if anyone deserves it...
He jolts as the images from earlier today (or is it ‘yesterday’ by now?) flash in his mind. A brute crashing through the window behind him, rushing at him as his rifle overheats. He was fumbling for his shotgun when there she was, charging. Except that time she charged wrong somehow, and ricocheted off it while the air stank like ship engines and fizzled blue around them. Shepard slammed into a wall, took too long to get up afterwards, and maybe he doesn’t feel like facing her for a while. Alenko must’ve killed the brute, ‘cause James’d just stood there, frozen, until she started moving and chewing him out over the comms. He shakes off the memory, and sees Shepard also shaking her head, clearly unimpressed with her drink.
“Shepard,” EDI coos over the intercom as his CO tops up her drink, “your biometric data suggests-”
“No thanks, EDI. Unless it’s urgent – or you find Cerberus HQ – I don’t want to hear it.”
“Yes, Shepard.”
“And cut the audio-vid feeds while I’m here.”
“Done, Commander. Use your omni-tool if-”
“Yeah.”
Turns out she’s down here for more than drinks. Shepard kicks off her boots, lets her hair down (literally, at least), and out from somewhere on her head pops her amp. She slumps to the floor with a groan and does… well, whatever it is people do to their bio-amps. James watches for a while – an easy task since she’s settled into the make-shift boxing ring right by his little fort – then returns to his seaside reverie.
Glad she’s handling this better than the rest of us.
The soft beeps of her omni-tool lull him back to sleep. When the elevator doors whoosh again he sees and hears nothing but waves rolling in off the Pacific. The second set of officer’s boots don’t really register either, but at some point the seagulls start to sound a bit too much like L2’s voice and James is back in the cargo bay.
Shit, why slum it down here when they’ve got whole rooms of their own?
“You know, if you stopped overclocking them, maybe they wouldn’t go off like that.”
“Sage advice, Major. Might as well ask the Reapers to stop trying to kill us.”
James rolls his stiff neck and looks through the gap again.
Shepard’s still on the floor, her back against a crate and legs stretched in front of her, flanked by a decent number of crumpled juice-bottles. Looming over her, ramrod straight and with his feet planted (precisely, Vega would bet) 10 inches apart is Alenko, hands slowly flexing at his side.
You got a plan there, L2?
“You’re burning through amps faster than you’re… changing your socks, Shepard,” he says, shifting his weight and nudging her left foot with his boot. “One of these days that surge protector in your implant’s going to fail and-”
“Save the lecture for your students-” she cuts him off, then cuts herself off, too. Biotics Division is a constant worry for Alenko, and most news out of there is MIA or KIA. Shepard clears her throat then continues, “Shaving a couple mils on cooldown is how we live to see another day, Kaidan.” Her foot presses back into his, which has to be as close as she gets to “sorry”.
“I have lectured them. And I’m telling you, too, since I wanna believe that old dogs can learn new tricks. Just ‘cause the Alliance taught us by ear doesn’t mean we have to keep playing that way.” He gives her ankle another nudge, then offers her a hand, “Come on. I can tell from here that the timings on that thing are way off – bin it and get a new one. Better yet, try a Serrice.”
Shepard sets the amp down in his hand with exaggerated care, and stands up on her own. “So, you march down here to insult me, or…?”
“Among other things,” he says, chucking the implant into the trash. “That stunt groundside could’ve ended a lot worse, you know. Concussion, aneurysm... and you almost gave James a heart attack.”
She shrugs, “Better that than a brute to the face. Vega was so slow on the shotgun you’d think he’d stowed it up his ass.”
Ow.
“You’re going too hard on him.”
“He’s N6, was scoped out for N7,” she says, clearly forgetting how that was supposed to be confidential… “He should be able to down a brute with a broken-down pistol.”
“And I’m sure he can. But he’s spent six months on babysitter duty, then got a slap on the back and was told to keep up with you.” Alenko tilts his head, pushing some discarded bottles aside with his boot as he steps closer, “Give him a little grace, Shepard.” His voice softens,“And give yourself some, too.”
She leans back against a crate, “Ah. So Anderson got you on it, too.”
“Too? And here I thought I was his go-to guy…” L2’s mock-sadness brings a half-smile to her face, which he returns.
“Well, you’re my go-to guy.” Running her fingers down his arm, she adds, “If that’s any comfort.”
“I know. But I’m serious, you’re-” Her hands are on his face then, as she pulls herself up for a hungry kiss.
And just like that, James feels the sudden urge to haul ass out of there. Doubly so when his CO starts to palm L2’s crotch, with visible effect. Crap.
Alenko breaks the kiss, and Shepard’s hand wanders upwards, lingering on his hip, before going to brush some hair out of her face. He clears his throat, almost clasps his hands behind his back, then thinks better of it. “That's not why I... what I'm here for.”
“You don't seem too opposed either,” she teases with a pointed glance at his growing interest.
“’Course I'm not opposed, Shepard, but...” Alenko’s eyes quickly dart to hers, before settling back on her shiny, inviting lips. “I'm not sure it's the right time. Or place.”
A dry chuckle escapes her, and James can hear L2 swallow. “Yeah. Doubt it'll get better before it gets worse, though…” She’s silent for a moment, then continues, “Right. I should-”
“So it’s just us in here?”
Nope. At least they’ll do it in the shuttle, right?
Another smile crosses her face, and she takes a moment to savor it before answering, “Yeah. And this nook’s out of view from the engineering landing…”
Alenko tilts his head to survey the deck above, which shows off the color creeping up his neck. “Out of view all right, except for Javik’s room. We’re just gonna hope those four eyes of his can’t see through curtains?”
“Hell, he already smelled our pheromones.” She runs a finger down the side of his neck, slipping it into his shirt collar, “You think he’ll give a shit that the primitives are fucking downstairs for a change?”
Wait, what?
“What?” L2 echoes James’s thoughts.
She tugs at his collar, “What, so he swaps war stories with you, but tells me he can smell how we’re… bonded?” Shepard does a decent impression of Prothy on that last word, then sighs, taking her hand away, “Maybe one day I’ll-”
The rest of her sentence is lost when Alenko pulls her in for a kiss. Though he might be searching for it, with the way he pushes into her mouth.
Shit, James. Elevator is out of the question (they’re right there), but there’s a ladder to the medbay… on the opposite side of the deck… which might as well be on the Moon for his flat-footed ass.
L2 is the one to break away again, this time with a chuckle and a loud smack of his lips. “Mmmm, is that… tequila?”
Shepard undid his armored vest, which she slides down his arms to land at their feet with a heavy thud. Wasting no time, she moves on to his shirt buttons. “That going into your report, Major?” she breathes into his reddening ear, and Vega feels his cheeks go hot.
Right, no way he’s getting in their way. Plan B: stick it out. Life on a spaceship means turning a blind eye to private time now and then. That it’s the CO and XO going at it makes things a bit harder (heh) but it’s nothing James can’t handle.
Nap time. Except…
“I could be...” Alenko hums, tilting her chin up. He adds, “persuaded to...” with a wet kiss, and a small nibble on her lip, “… look the other way.” He trails his way to her ear, then down her neck, with a move he must’ve lifted straight from one of those sappy old vids.
Now done with his shirt, Shepard is back to stroking L2’s cock through his pants. “I shall try my best, then.”
He smiles into her skin, palming her ass as he slides a leg between hers. Slacker, if it was James she’d already be topless, a tit in his mouth, his fingers-
Dios, this better be a dream. Vega reaches for his pants and tugs at the fabric trying to ease the mounting pressure.
Alenko lifts Shepard onto the crate and takes her vest off with practiced ease, tossing it aside. He unbuttons the top of her shirt, grabs the collar and pulls the shirt off over her head, earning himself a delighted giggle and a long, needy kiss.
James tries to ignore the angry bruise covering most of her ribs (don’t think about Thessia) as he rakes his eyes over her body. Shepard’s all long limbs and lean muscle, that much he knew already. But to actually see her flushed, freckled skin, her broad shoulders, her heaving chest as L2 won’t let her come up for air…
She threads her fingers through his hair and pulls, breaking their kiss, “We don’t have time to take it slow.” At that, Alenko roughly pulls her sports bra above her small breasts, taking one pebbled brown nipple into his mouth and the other between his fingers.
Leaning into his touch, Shepard shucks her bra off and flings it away – and into James’s barricade. She’s breathing faster, and so’s Alenko, and fuck so is Vega. She runs her fingers along L2’s scalp, twirling the strands of silver like it’s actually precious, and enjoys his ministrations for a little while longer. Tangling her hands in his curls, she pulls him away again, shivering as his teeth catch on her nipple. “Kiss me again?” she asks, with a sweet smile she’s shown no one else on the ship.
L2’s posture is slack, his voice hoarse and teasing, “Only if you-”
“Plllease,” she purrs. She’s running her hands down his chest, and he’s on her before she gets to thumb his nipples.
James’s hand mirrors hers without any conscious thought, running down his (sadly, still clothed) chest. Her thigh blocks his view, but when he hears the belt buckle pop, and sees the way her elbow moves, his other hand slides into his pants and wraps around his stiff, wet cock. As Alenko moans into her mouth, hips jerking forward, James’s eyes snap shut and he can feel her heat against him, her hand stroking, thumb pressing just-
“Ease up, Shepard,” L2 rasps, now holding her hand up by the wrist. His twitching cock is on full display, and sorely missing her touch. (Shorter than James; pretty good, though. Not that he’s looking...)
She leans in, panting into his face, “How ‘bout you hurry up, Alenko? Get inside me before anyone walks in?” Shepard’s out of his grasp then, hopping off the crate and tugging his pants lower. She feels up his ass, letting his dick brush against her stomach as she kisses, then sucks his collarbone.
Alenko grabs her chin, thumbing at her swollen lip. When she opens her mouth, he eases one finger in, then another, for her to suck on. With his other hand, he undoes her pants, yanking them (and whatever else she was wearing) down below the sweetest ass Vega’s ever laid eyes on.
Shepard’s pretty tall, maybe a couple inches shorter than James, and most of that is legs. ‘Course he’d thought about those thighs, what her ass must look like, but the real thing was… wow. His hand grips tighter as he imagines those beauties wrapping around his hips.
The next sight he’s aware of is Shepard back on her crate, head thrown back, with Alenko glued to her tit and two – now three – knuckles deep inside her. Her pants and panties are still clinging to one calf, but her other leg is completely bare, rubbing up and down L2’s hairy ass and thighs.
Leaning back on her elbows, Shepard hooks her legs around his hips. “Enough foreplay...”
“You’re not-”
“Fuck, Kaidan. Please.” Dropping her legs, she pushes his hand away and turns onto her stomach, feet arched on the floor and perfect round ass in the air.
Somehow L2 pauses to take in the sight, despite his leaking cock and heavy breathing, so James loosens his grip as well. Alenko pops the slicked fingers into his mouth (and fuck, James’d be down to lick those clean, too), closing his eyes as he sucks on them.
“Turn over?” he asks, sliding his wet fingers under her hip.
Shepard flexes her shoulders, making a show of gripping the crate tighter, “Mmmm-missed your chance.”
L2 shakes his head, then grabs her hips, pulling her toward him. Left hand kneading her ass, he starts slowly running his cock along her slit. Lola – Shepard – slips a hand to her clit, grinding her hips as Alenko is now rubbing himself between her long, muscled thighs.
He pushes her legs apart and finally he’s at her entrance, teasing her with his tip.
“Feeling shy, Major?” Shepard sounds out of breath and it’s probably not the crate digging into her ribs.
Holding a fistful of hair, Alenko turns her head sideways for a kiss. He slowly pushes into her, his left hand going to her breast, arching her back. His first strokes are shallow, tentative, but with the next he sinks in fully. Shepard moans – the first raw sound she’s made – and James barely stifles a groan.
“You okay?”
“Kaidannn…” she huffs, rubbing her calf against his. She gives his foot a couple of impatient stomps, her socked heel bouncing off Alenko’s steel toed boot.
He presses a kiss into the crook of her neck and starts fucking her in earnest. James mirrors his long, rhythmic thrusts, imagining her stretch around his cock, hot and tight and wet, squeezing her pussy on his way out… He has to hear her again – the cargo bay is thick with their wet slap, and L2’s occasional groan, but Shepard hasn’t made a peep since then. James would make her squeal...
Alenko lets go of her tit so she flattens her chest to the crate, legs taut as she angles her hips up. His next thrust sends a shiver through her, drawing out the prettiest little whimper before she bites down on her fist.
Fuck, what a shame…
“Ffuhhhh,” L2 mumbles, bending over to kiss her shoulder.
James is locked in on her ass when Alenko yanks her to her feet. Wrapping his arm around her, he pins her upper arms to her ribcage. Shepard arches, angling her hips when he crushes her back against his chest. Her hands scramble up and down, gripping his arm, shoulders, his thighs and hers, as they start slapping together faster. He turns her head with his other hand, kissing and sucking along her jaw.
Her smile at that goes straight to James’s crotch. Alenko starts drilling into her, drawing out one shaky moan after another, and James has to take a moment to calm down. No way he’s going to come before L2, not when he’s fucking his hand while the old man’s got her quivering-
Dios, Lola…
Alenko eases his hold on her to allow for longer strokes. And since Shepard’s not a harpy, she muffles her sounds as soon as her hand can reach her face again. She leans forward, bracing herself on the crate with her other hand, and starts jerking back onto him, eagerly meeting his every thrust.
His hips are slamming into her hard enough to knock her thighs forward, sending the crate thumping. Hands now gripping her waist, Alenko pants – grunts – between thrusts, “I – miss – hear – ing – you – Shep-”
The next syllable is drowned out by a pair of sharp groans as Alenko (probably) bottoms out. He pulls out, fingers digging hard into her hip as Shepard scrambles farther up on her crate with trembling legs.
Shaking his head, he runs a soothing hand along her spine, mumbling, “Shit, sorry-”
Lola arches into his touch, twitchy and breathless. “I’m good, Kaidan,” she says, straining to look over her shoulder. Reaching back and squeezing his hand, she adds, “You?”
“Mmm-hmmm,” he murmurs, trying to catch his breath. There’s a dazed, puppy-dog look on his face as he watches Shepard, and James is starting to understand why she’d go soft on him. Though he can’t believe she’s giving L2 almost the same look back. “’m close...” he adds, stepping closer to rest his cock on her pillowy ass.
Shepard wraps her fingers around his length, guiding his tip back to her. “Mmmmm, me too,” she hums in a voice like honey. The way she smoothly slides herself back onto his dick, angling her hips and flexing her shaky thighs, is a sight James will cherish for a long time.
L2’s less pleased, brusquely pressing her down into the crate with one hand. “Fuck, Shepard,” he manages as a shiver runs through his body. “Don’t, okay? For both our sakes…”
There’s a smug smile on her sweaty face then – a pretty sight she hides even from Alenko. “Yessssirrrr…” she slurs, before offering her hips and burying her mouth in the crook of her elbow.
He starts pumping into her again, slow and shallow. His left hand moves from her hip to her clit, and soon he has Shepard writhing under his touch.
James shuts his eyes, and he can just about feel her around his cock again. He goes slow too, timing his strokes with their sounds, enjoying the languid, wet drag-
There’s a shift in the air – he feels it in his teeth, in the hairs at the back of his head – and for a moment Vega feels like he’s out in the field again, a banshee about to open her mouth just out of view. He jolts, banging his head on the crate and knocking over his beer bottle, fumbling for it as the alcohol seeps into his pants. No monsters. Cargo bay. Fuck. He sets the beer upright, breathing deep, and there it is – the slightest tang of ozone. Biotics.
Holy crap.
He peers back out, his cock twitching at the sight of Shepard’s jiggling ass – now rim-lit in rippling blue. As if he couldn’t tell from their sounds already, they’re still blissfully unaware of his presence, despite his clumsy flailing. Hell, how could they notice him when they’re… There’s something hypnotic about the electric blue glow dancing across Shepard’s skin (and L2’s, but who’s looking at him). It looks more like a ship’s hull during FTL than anything you’d want in the bedroom, but when he remembers how Liara’s biotics felt on his skin, his nerves… Fuck. James fists himself again, finding his dick harder and wetter than before.
Alenko bends over her, his chest brushing against her back. “Please,” he breathes into her ear, tugging lightly on her hair. Shepard lifts her head out of her elbow, resting it sideways on her arm, and James hopes to god her eye implants don’t let her see through (or in-between) cargo crates, ‘cause she’d be looking right at him. She’s biting her lip, but her soft moans can take to the air now.
Thank you, Major.
Jaw, ear, neck, shoulders – L2’s lips and tongue trail all over Shepard. The biotic glow is getting brighter, pulsing almost in time with them and lifting the ends of her hair toward him like static. Alenko’s working her good, grinning into her damp skin as her thighs start to crush his hand.
With a jolt, Shepard arches her back, fingers splaying on the crate as she tries to push herself up. She can’t, so she clamps a hand on the arm between her shaking legs, holding on to Alenko for dear life as his own thrusts get sloppy and desperate. Her eyes snap shut, and she can’t hold back a throaty, shuddering moan. Doubling over, she tries to hide her face back into the crook of her arm.
Alenko’s right hand was moving already, and catches her. His fingers over her forehead, he cradles her head back up. “Easy, easy…” He’s shaky and out of breath, pupils blown wide as she shudders in his arms. He’s close, trying hard to control his pace, but he slips out of her and can’t help jerking into her clenching thighs.
Lola’s a happy, quaking mess in his hands. “Kaidan,” she whimpers, letting go of his arm, reaching behind for his cock. It takes all of their willpower to hold still long enough to get him back inside her. Rocking herself into his hips, she mumbles, “Fuck, don’t stop…”
He turns her head for a kiss, smiling as he sucks on her lower lip. “Can’t, Shep-” he slurs into the corner of her mouth, before pulling her to his chest and fucking her through her orgasm.
L2’s fingers slip down over her eyes but neither of them seem to mind, or even notice. Her hands reach blindly, finding his hips, feeling his ass and digging into his thighs as they start stuttering. Alenko buries his face into her shoulder with a groan, shuddering in time with the blue sheen enveloping them. But it’s the sight of Shepard, fucked out and craning her slender neck like that, trying to touch his head with hers, that pushes James over. He clamps a hand over his mouth just in case (and thank fuck he did), bucking into his hand.
Eyes closed, head resting back against the crate, Vega waits for the thudding heartbeat in his ears to subside. Bit by bit, he starts to hear their muffled groans that dissolve into mingled, heavy breathing.
Clarity slowly trickles into his thick head and the fucked-up-ness of this whole situation begins to hit James.
Right. Priority one: keep quiet. You can work through the rest later, Vega.
And since he’s going to hell for all this anyway, he goes back to watching his commanding officers – both of whom are now bent over the luckiest crate in the galaxy.
L2 is slumped in a sweaty heap on top of Shepard, doing his absolute best to merge into her. He’s got to be going soft, but hasn’t slipped out yet – something she’s probably helping out with, as her slight moves send shivers through him. Still panting a little, he’s resting his chin on her shoulder, blowing the occasional strands that float up to his face. The blue shimmer is gone, but his hair is wilder than usual, like it’s full of static and – wait, is this why his hair’s always sticking up like that?
Pinned below him, Shepard’s looking completely relaxed. Rubbing a foot down his calf, she gently pushes his pants down to his boots with her tiptoe, hooking her ankle around his. She sighs, her head pillowed in L2’s hand, eyes closed, lips red and swollen and shiny parting... Shakily, she reaches a hand over her shoulder, seeking his face again. Alenko leans into her touch, kissing her palm, then along her jawline as she curls her fingers through his hair and plays with his earlobe.
Hell, James’d need a moment after that, too...
“Sorry I let you do all the work, Kaidan,” Shepard croons, lilting his name. “Should’ve plugged my amp…”
Alenko presses his cheek into her shoulder, a dreamy smile on his flushed face. “Hey, I think we managed.” He runs his free hand along her thigh, “You can make it up to me later.”
Maybe it’s his newfound clarity, but that stuff’s a bit too personal for James. Instead, he wipes his hand, downs what little is left of his beer, and starts planning his next moves. First, the coldest shower you can get on the Normandy, then grub, then ideally some shut-eye before the two people he just watched have sex take him on another mission through asari hell. Shit, maybe he’ll talk to that cute marine when he gets back, since breaking the regs doesn’t seem so terrible anymore...
“I love you,” L2 mumbles into his CO’s skin, and Vega is back at it fast enough to catch him still planting a kiss on her back. Alenko then shuts his eyes as if he was expecting the way her body tenses. And just like that, the old Shepard draws a deep breath and shifts underneath him.
The Major must’ve found the quickest way to end whatever happy moment they had going. When Shepard speaks again there’s not a trace left of the breathy warmth he’d coaxed into her. “We should clean up,” she says instead, as if they're suddenly covered in vorcha blood and not slick with happy, we-just-fucked-so-good-a-third-party-creamed-his-pants sweat.
“Yeah,” Alenko says, or sighs, as he get off and out of her. A minute ago the sight of her wet pussy and thighs would have made James’s head swim, but that minute feels light-years away by now.
L2 pulls his pants back up, then goes around the room gathering Shepard’s discarded clothes. Crap, she chucked her bra into- James’s breath catches as the other man approaches – fearing he’d hear him, or his pounding heartbeat, in the oppressive silence that’s settled over the cargo hold. But Alenko seems so deep in his own thoughts that he wouldn’t notice Vega if he started banging on the crates.
Yeah, no, the regs are there for a damn good reason. James is pretty sure he’d sooner die celibate than get himself into something like this. Wouldn’t hurt to see if Battle-tits is still up for that ‘interview’, though – since she’s not Alliance…
“Must be a new record for us,” Shepard says, probably trying to lighten the mood she’d just killed.
“I thought you wanted… brevity,” he answers flatly, neatly stacking her clothes on a crate to her left.
“That’s not what I meant,” she says, getting into her pants with little care for the mess he’s made of her.
“What do you mean, Shepard?” There’s a colder edge to Alenko’s voice now, as he picks his own clothes off the floor. He tosses his vest on a nearby table and starts putting on his shirt, pretty slowly as it’s sticking to his damp skin.
“Mission extraction to fucking on the sly – we used to space them out a bit more.” Shepard pulls her bra over her head, and (despite everything) James mourns the loss as her perky tits get flattened to her chest. “It’s just-”
“And you used to mellow out after a... pounding like that, too,” Alenko snaps. “Guess a lot of things’ve changed.”
She draws a deep breath, “So why do you insist-”
“Shepard, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”
“Don’t start.” Her glare makes James shift uncomfortably even when it’s not leveled at him.
L2’s halfway done with the buttons on his shirt and pauses to look at her, measuring his words.
Shit, can’t they take this upstairs?
“And,” she adds before he can get a word in, “keep your dick in your pants if you wanna play the therapist.”
“Please,” he answers, smothering most of the anger from his voice. “You’re not helping anybody by-”
“I'm not down here trying to help anyone. I'm-” Turning away from him, she trips on one of the empty bottles then kicks it, sending it flying down the cargo bay. “God damn it, just get out! Can't even have a fucking hour to myself.” Shepard then kicks the crate with a loud thud – which can’t be very pleasant for someone still not wearing boots. “Go,” she adds, her fury simmering down to something else as she grabs her neatly laid out shirt and starts undoing the still-closed buttons.
Alenko is watching her – calmly – evidently not going anywhere. “Doctor Chakwas has some-”
“I don't want her pills. Can't be out cold when-”
“That's what your XO is for,” he says, his voice softer. “You're slipping, Shepard – in the field and on board. If you care about nothing else, know that you're risking the mission by doing this.”
His words hang in the dry, recycled air while they finish getting dressed.
Shepard grabs the one non-empty energy-drink-and-probably-tequila bottle, but doesn’t protest when Alenko takes it out of her hand and drops it in the trash.
“Talk to me, Shepard.”
She swallows, searching his eyes, then looks away.
She must’ve taken a shine to James’s particular stack of crates, ‘cause she’s staring straight through them, and – by association – him. He can’t help but stare back, into her big brown eyes, and into those tiny little pinpricks of red light that weren’t there a minute ago.
He’s seen them before, after Tuchanka, after Rannoch, after that old krogan attacked her on the Citadel… and after Thessia. Each time she’d banish them away, and then some new horror would light them back up. A ‘stress response’, the Doc called it, but to James it’s more than that – a grim reminder that everyone’s hero died, got stitched back together, and whatever came back isn’t fully human anymore.
“I am slipping.”
Oh, Vega really shouldn’t be hearing any of this...
“So let me help you.”
She turns to him, her face unreadable. “Illusive Man. Thoughts?”
“We'll find him. I’m sure EDI-”
“He remind you of anyone?”
“Uh, sure.” Alenko is perfectly readable, and he’s confused. “He's indoctrinated, like Saren. That doesn't make him invincible – if anything it’ll make him… incompetent.”
“Yeah,” Shepard says as if that was her point somehow.
There’s a quick succession of emotions on L2’s face, which she watches impassively.
“You’re not, Shepard,” he says tonelessly.
She continues, matter-of-factly, “I’ve spent more time around them than anyone we’d still call... sane. And I keep having these dreams-”
Alenko cuts her off, every word louder than the last, “You’ve killed more Reapers than anyone-”
“Exactly,” she says, finally looking into his eyes. “Where would you strike, Kaidan, if not at the... fulcrum?”
”Yeah, well did you consider that maybe you're up there because you can resist them?”
“Any resistance is temporary. And who knows what Cerberus did to me – they were using reaper tech, even back then…”
It’s unsettling – seeing Alenko angry and Shepard deathly calm.
“So we’ll kill them before that happens.” Alenko regains control of his voice, “You’re fine now, Shepard. That prothean VI on Thessia said as much, about all three of us.”
“Sure.” Her tone is light, but it starts to waver as she continues, “Until one day I wake up and I’m not fine. How long til anyone even notices?”
Before he can reply, she adds, harshly, “And who the fuck’s going to kill me?”
“Don’t-” Alenko’s throat is so tight, he’s barely audible.
Shepard plows ahead, “You wanted to talk, so let’s talk, Kaidan. You’re my XO and I don’t need – or want – you to ‘love’ me. I need you to make sure I won’t take this whole operation down-”
“What do you think I’m trying to do?!” Alenko’s outburst rings in the hollow cargo hold, stunning all three of them for a moment. He continues, trying and failing to steady his voice, “Hell, why are you doing this, Shepard? Wasn’t it enough – throwing your life away once?”
Shepard’s mask cracks, probably at the same time as Kaidan’s voice cracked. For the briefest moment she looks small and bare – hurt, fear, and exhaustion clear in every line and every scar on her face. James blinks and it’s mercifully gone, her expression perfectly neutral, save for the slight press of her paling lips.
Holding his gaze, she says evenly, “If I end up like them-”
“So don’t.”
Shepard snaps, “You think they chose to-”
“I think you’re choosing. To fling yourself at danger, to push everyone away, to drink instead of going to sleep…” Alenko tries to sound calm but he’s working himself up again, “Doesn’t even matter if it’s your own damn actions or the Reapers’ influence – this is only helping them!”
Shepard’s silent, watching him, and James doesn’t want to think about any of that.
Alenko continues, the edge in his voice melting away, “It’s okay to be afraid, Shepard. It doesn’t mean they’re putting thoughts into your head – just means you’re human.” He reaches for her shoulder, but she rigidly shrugs him off. “Hell, we’re all scared shitless,” he adds, mostly to himself.
“I don’t think I can do this,” she says simply.
L2 lets out a short breath, “Yeah, maybe you can’t. No one’s done this in what, a billion years? Thousands of cycles?” His gaze drops to the floor, settling on an empty bottle he then crushes underfoot. “But the Reapers should’ve won three years ago, and instead you kept fighting – and they’re dying.”
“That doesn’t mean-”
“It means they’re probably going to kill us all. But that goes from ‘probably’ to ‘definitely’ if you give up.” He looks at her, likely expecting a reaction. After a pause, he continues, “And if you – we – keep fighting, then who knows? That’s what we can do. What you’ve always done.”
Shepard’s eyes are trained on the crushed bottle. “Can you kill me, if I become-”
“Yes,” Alenko answers before she can finish her question. His posture tenses, as anger seeps back into his voice. “I will, Shepard. But don’t expect me to act like you’re already… gone when you’re not.” He kicks the bottle, sending it skidding into a – their – crate.
Shepard seems to bite back a reply, turning away.
While she digs through storage for a new bio-amp, L2 grabs a gun rag and wipes down the crate. He folds the rag, slipping it into his pocket, before bending down to gather the scattered empty bottles.
She looks over her shoulder, “I’ll get them after-”
“It’s fine. Just get your amp.”
Once done with the trash, L2 (finally) makes his way to the elevator. He leans against the wall, next to the call button.
“You don’t have to wait for me,” Shepard says, parting a small section of hair and slotting the amp in somewhere above her ear.
“I know,” he says, watching the back of her neck as she pulls her hair into a tight ponytail.
She narrows her eyes, looking down the cargo hold. After a few seconds she curls her fingers, flicking her wrist. James takes that for a nervous twitch, before he spots the flickering, bluish thing now flying toward her. The bottle she’d kicked away. Stopping in front of her, it slowly turns on its axis like a dying sun. Shepard closes her fist, her biotics crushing the plastic into a neat disc, which she plucks out of the air as she heads for the elevator.
Alenko turns away, idly thumbing the elevator button. When he hears her drop the bottle into the trash, he pipes up, “And Shepard?”
The steady click of her boots doesn’t waver, but her shoulders tense. Shepard walks up to the elevator, the steel toe of her boot pressing against the closed doors. She hums a short “Hmm?” without looking at Alenko.
“Telling you how I feel-” he says, as James seriously considers walking out and pressing the damn button himself.
“Don't.”
Alenko turns to her, “I love you, and saying it doesn't change what I feel, or what I can and can't do, okay?” He sighs then continues, swallowing past a lump in his throat, “It just means that I won't be kicking myself so hard if something happens – again – and...”
“Kaidan-” Facing him, her voice is tight as his wavers.
“And,” he says, locking her eyes, “it's something you should consider, too. Just… trust me on that.”
“That’s not going to hap-”
“You don’t get to decide that.” There’s no malice to his words, just a weary finality.
Shepard drops her eyes, her lips pressing into a thin line as she looks over his uniform. She brushes a bit of dust off his shoulder, then straightens his shirt collar, which has to be as close as she’ll get to-
“I... I’m not like you, Kaidan,” she says, shaking her head. Dropping her hands, she deftly reaches around his waist to press the elevator call button.
“Hey,” Alenko touches her scarred cheek with the back of his fingers, stopping her from turning away. He tilts his head down so their eyes are level, giving her a gentle look, “I know.”
Shepard closes her eyes, leaning into his touch. She lets out a shaky breath and buries her face into the crook of his neck.
Alenko’s other hand goes to the back of her head, ghosting down her hair to rub small circles into the bare skin just above her shirt collar. “Always have, Shepard.” James can’t tell why, but that makes her wrap her arms around Kaidan tighter.