Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

General Victus had been on the Citadel for six months now, overseeing the turian members of the fleet that protected the Citadel. It was, supposedly, an honor; in reality it was frustrating in the extreme, with much more time spent around the Council than he would have preferred.

He had been very disappointed to find out that the garden with it’s conveniently situated and concealed grotto had been turned into a lake. He had often walked aimlessly over the bridge that arched gracefully over the lake, wishing for that quiet garden back.

If he were to be honest with himself though, he was driven less by his frustration with politics (though this had never abated) and more by a vague hope that the human woman he knew only as “Kel” would come here again to yell at the Council in peace. He knew this was ridiculous; a brief encounter two years ago should not hold such a prominent place in his memory, let alone in his actions, but he couldn’t help it.

She had been fascinating, and he had spent the remainder of his time during that trip hoping to run into her again. He never had, though, and when he returned home, he had (mostly) succeeded in putting her out of his head.

When he was given this posting at the Citadel, that hope had returned, and was recalled each time he crossed the bridge, stopping at the highest point to lean against the railing. Victus sighed, and shoved himself upright. This really had to stop. He was determined to give up and forget about the whole thing. Nodding to himself, he headed purposefully back to the Presidium.

He was walking quickly, so familiar with his path that he didn’t really watch where he was going, when he slammed into someone. Staggering back a step, he growled angrily, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on the person who had gotten in his way.

***

The human woman he had run into had fallen, landing on her backside with enough force to rattle her teeth. She looked up at the brick wall that had come barreling around the corner of the bridge into her, prepared to deliver a scathing lecture on Politeness and Watching-Where-You’re-Going-Especially-While-Wearing-Heavy-Armour. When her eyes reached his face though, she blinked in surprise and scrambled to her feet.

Her eyes scanned the armoured form growling at her, settling on his face, flickering over his clan markings as a wide smile spread across her face.

“I suppose I deserved that, but isn’t two years a rather long time to hold a grudge, Adrien?”

***

His growl cut off abruptly. He wasn’t normally good at distinguishing individual humans, but this was a face - and more importantly, a voice - which had played through his memory more times than he cared to admit. He blinked at her, hardly believing his eyes. He knew that if he wasn’t careful he would disgrace himself by being too excited to see her, so he deliberately adopted a nonchalant tone.

“Yes, it is, but if you’d been here sooner, I wouldn’t have needed to hold onto it so long, would I? It’s nice to see you again, Kel.”

He was pleased with himself when she laughed. “If I’d known you were planning on charging me, I would have stayed away longer. Is that the best apology I’m going to get for being at the mercy of your brick wall impersonation?”

Her laughter was intoxicating, with the same ring he remembered from the last time he had heard it. He spread his mandibles in a grin. “Probably. Or you could let me take you to lunch to make it up to you.”

He was surprised at himself; hadn’t he just made up his mind to forget about her? He almost took the invitation back, but she was already nodding and falling into step beside him as they headed back to the Presidium.

It was only the mystery surrounding the whole experience last time that had captivated him, he told himself. Spending an hour with her would dispel the mystery and therefore he would be free of the memories of her. Victus nodded. That was a sound strategy. She was human, after all, how interesting could she be?

***

Three hours later, Victus was willing to admit his strategy had failed. She was more interesting with every moment he spent with her. Whether it was her stories of missions in the Terminus systems, or of various exploits growing up on Alliance ships, she held his attention completely. She had a sense of humor he appreciated; a delicate way of describing missions in enough detail to make the stories interesting, while still leaving her stories vague enough that it didn’t sound like “talking shop.” She was an excellent listener, seeming to know exactly which details to press for and which to ignore.

Lunch had come and gone while they sat at a table in an open air cafe. They’d ordered appetizers to keep the waitress off their backs and, sometime later, dinner.

By unspoken agreement, they’d steered clear of serious topics; speaking of past missions, but nothing current. She knew he was a general, and although she was wearing civvies now, he remembered that last time she’d worn an Alliance uniform, though he never had spotted her rank insignia.

He watched her as she spoke, wondering if he would ruin their time together by asking the question on his mind. He was so focused on that concern, that he didn’t notice when she fell silent until he felt her hand on his arm. His eyes flew to hers, and he found her looking at him with concern.

“Is everything alright, Adrien?”

He nodded and, greatly daring, placed his hand on top of hers. “Everything is fine. I was just thinking about how unfortunate it is that this is the first time I’ve run into you in six months. I’ve thought about you often - I wish we could have done this before.”

Her answering smile held a trace of sadness that hadn’t been there before, and she looked uncomfortable. “I wish we could have too. Aside from two very brief stops for business, though, I haven’t been back to the Citadel in almost three years. I have thought about you since then, though.” She grinned suddenly, and added a dramatic tone to her words. “The mysterious turian general I ran into - literally. Someone I only know by his first name; someone who only knows my first name - and you have no idea how rare that is. The only person who has heard me lose my temper and lived to tell the tale.”

Victus chuckled. “Well, if this is your first day of leisure in nearly three years, I’m honored that you chose to spend it with me.” He was studying her face, which was the only reason he saw the sadness that washed over her before she pushed it aside. He wasn’t sure what had caused it, but suddenly he knew he wanted to bring the smile back to her face. Taking a deep breath, he asked if he might see her again.

He wasn't prepared for the disappointment that flashed across her features.

“I wish I could. I ship out tomorrow for a mission.” She looked genuinely distressed to be turning him down.

Keeping his voice casual was a struggle. “What time do you leave?”

“Report time is 1400 hours.”

He stared at her, his mind awhirl with arguments and rationalizations. In the end, he went with the first thought to enter his head. “Would you like to have breakfast with me, then?”

He was surprised, and slightly offended, when she flashed him a shocked look and then broke into giggles. She met his eyes, and tried to settle down. Gasping, she offered, “Either that was a really bad application of a pretty cheesy pickup line, or I owe you an apology.”

Victus just blinked at her, confused. Waving a hand in front of her face, she took a deep breath, and explained.

“Sorry, sorry. If I’d just been on an amazing, half-day date with a human male, and he asked me to have breakfast the next day, he’d be implying that we would be having breakfast after spending the night together. It’s a pretty obvious line, and I don’t know anyone it has ever actually worked on.” She grinned. “I can see that isn’t what you meant, so I do apologize.”

By now, Adrien was chuckling as well. “Humans. What a peculiar way to go about things.” He watched her for a minute, his gaze going predatory, before adding, “You’re correct, that isn’t at all what I meant. However, since you brought it up...”

She arched an eyebrow at him, her green eyes locked on his golden ones, her gaze challenging. “Since I brought it up... what?”

Victus smiled appreciatively, answering her challenge by spreading his mandibles wide in what he hoped was a fair imitation of a human leer. “Would you like to join me for breakfast, Kel?” As her eyes widened and she started to smile, he repeated the request in a more turian fashion. Picking up her hand from where it still rested on his arm, he raised it to his mouth, turning it over to nip lightly at the inside of her wrist. “Will you spend the night with me?”

Her breath caught when he nipped her wrist, her fingers tightening around his. “Yes.”

That single word sent a thrill of victory through him. Grateful that he’d already paid, he stood up; keeping hold of her hand he helped her to her feet, pleased when she wove her smaller fingers together with his. He smiled down at her, then led the way back to his apartment.

Chapter Text

The rush of victory following a risky venture filled them both as they left the restaurant; anticipation and excitement buoyed them as they walked along the Presidium corridors, ensuring that they missed all the curious glances their joined hands garnered from various passerby.

At his apartment, Adrien pushed the button for the elevator, and glanced over at Kel.  He was feeling nervous now, and wondered if her nerves were bothering her too.  She looked perfectly calm, her hand still holding his firmly.  He was just about to look away when she turned slightly and caught him watching her.  She smiled, her eyes searching his, and he knew she saw his nervousness.

She was polite enough not to mention it, though, simply glancing back at the elevator before asking casually, “So, is this a typical Citadel elevator?”  

He blinked at her, confused by the unexpected and off topic question.  Shrugging slightly, he nodded.  “Yes, it is.  Why?”

Kel smiled mischievously, keeping her gaze on the elevator doors.  “Two reasons.  I’ve never been to the Presidium apartments before, I didn’t know if perhaps the elevators had been upgraded in them.  Good to know some things don’t change.”

Adrien was prevented from enquiring about the other reason by the arrival of the elevator.  They stepped inside and he pushed the button for his floor.  As the doors closed, Kel dropped his hand and pulled up her omni tool.  His disappointment at the lost contact was quickly dispelled by curiosity.  He watched as she quickly hacked the elevator’s programming and set it to a non-stop ascent.  

When she shut down the omni tool and turned to face him with a grin, he favored her with a confused look.  Right up until she stepped close to him, wound her arms around his neck, and rose to stand on her toes - a move that put their faces mere inches apart.

“The other reason is that I’ve finally come up with a positive side to the snail’s pace of these elevators.”  Kel smiled, leaning forward enough to press her lips against the line of his jaw before running her tongue lightly along the edge of his mandible.  “What do you think?”

Adrien set his hands on her waist, pulling her close until she leaned against him.  “I think I’ll never look at this elevator the same way again,” his voice was low, his subvocal tones roughening it.  He dipped his head and returned her attention, running his tongue along her jaw and nipping lightly at her neck.  She shuddered, letting her head fall back and her eyes close.

….....................................................................................................................................

When the elevator stopped they parted reluctantly, and Kel reached for his hand again.  When the doors finally parted, he let her precede him from the elevator before tugging her in the direction of his apartment.

He opened the door and led her in, watching her closely for her reaction.  She looked around the sitting room, then walked over to the large bank of windows and stood admiring the view.

Adrien walked over to join her, nodding out at the view.  “Not quite the same usefulness as that garden on the Presidium, but I suppose one can’t have everything.”  

She laughed and turned back to him, meeting his eyes.  “I really should tell you, I’ve never done this before.  I’m a little nervous.”

He tipped his head to the side, smiling slightly.  “What do you mean?  The... hmm... interspecies relations?”  He was pleased when she laughed.

“That’s not what I meant, although it is also true.  I actually meant the whole ‘going home with someone I barely know’ part.”  She blushed, biting her bottom lip as she glanced up at him.

Adrien raised a hand to run it through her hair, smiling as he stepped closer to her.  “Neither do I, really.  However, there’s something about you that makes me ignore all my own rules.  You challenge me to step outside my comfort zone, Kel.  It is a challenge I accept.”  

Her eyes were wide and serious as she watched him with a small smile.  When he finished speaking she nodded, reaching out to take his hand in hers again.  He stepped back, leading her slowly towards the bedroom.

….....................................................................................................................................

When Victus woke up the next morning, he opened his eyes and wondered why his arm was numb.  Turning his head, he saw that Kel was laying on it, her own arm draped over his chest.  She was yawning, and when her eyes opened and met his, she smiled.  

“I believe I offered you breakfast.  Shall we order something, or go out?”  He freed his arm and sat up, his breath catching when Kel rolled over and indulged in a long stretch.  “On second thought, ordering something sounds like a much better plan.”  He watched her eyes sweep over him and her smile softened.  “On third thought, breakfast is incredibly overrated, you know.”

Her laugh filled the room, and the smile she wore reached her eyes as she sat up and reached for him.  “Very overrated.  I think I can take a rain check.”

…....................................................................................................................................

When her omni tool beeped at her several hours later, she sighed and sat up.  Casting a glance back at him, she smiled, then took herself off to the bathroom; a moment later the shower started up.  

Adrien settled back in the bed, content to wait for her while wishing she didn’t have to go so soon.  When she came back into the bedroom, she was dressed and running her fingers through her wet hair.  His attention was caught by the simple movement, and he stood, stepping over to her and replacing her fingers with his own.  Her hair fascinated him, and now that it was wet it was curling wildly around her face.  He wrapped a curl around a talon, tugging it gently as she laughed at him.  Brushing her hair aside, he lowered his mouth to her neck, and was pleased when her laughter turned to a gasp.

She turned to face him, placing a hand on his chest and giving him a gentle push.  “Now now, I really do need to go, Adrien.  I would love to stay here with you, but it will look really bad if I’m late.”

He sighed, hands settling on her hips to tug her against him.  “Don’t go.  How much trouble could you possibly get in?  And, if you’re really lucky, they may leave without you.”  He grinned at her, mandibles flicking with silent laughter.  They both knew it wasn’t a serious request.

Kel reached up, resting her hand on his cheek and mandible as she smiled at him.  “I have to go.  This mission, it’s... something of a personal favor for Admiral Hackett.  It won’t be a long trip though, and we’ll be back afterwards.”

“Well, do you think I could see you when you come back?”  Although his tone was teasing, his eyes held a hint of uncertainty.

She laughed, the sound chasing his doubts away.  “Of course.  You still owe me breakfast after all.  I’ll let you know as soon as we’re back.”

She turned and left, flashing a last smile over her shoulder before she closed the door.

Chapter Text

The days passed slowly.  As time went on, Victus found himself more and more anxious; surely she would be back soon.  His temper frayed, his patience was stretched thin.  He checked his omni tool obsessively for new messages.  There hadn’t been any messages, though; after several weeks passed, his anxiousness passed only to be replaced by disappointment.

He returned home late one evening, trying to remember if there was any food in the apartment, only to find his door had been hacked.  Biting back a growl, he entered silently, looking around.  Finding no one in the main room or the small kitchen, he stalked slowly through the darkened apartment, glancing in the other rooms as he passed.  He was frowning with confusion by the time he reached his bedroom.  Opening the door, he flicked the lights on, ready for an attack.  None came.  His eyes scanned the room, and found Kel curled on his bed.

He stared at her.  She was sitting against the wall, knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around them.  Her forehead had been resting on her raised knees, but when the lights went on, she looked up.  Her hair hung loosely about her face, her wide green eyes were rimmed with red.  He froze, unable to move as all his protective instincts rose at once.

She stood, slowly, as if she were in pain.  “Adrien.  I’m glad you’re here.”  Her voice was flat, tightly controlled.  He started towards her, but stopped when she held up a hand.  “I cannot stay.  I didn’t want to disappear on you again, though.  I wanted to let you know that...” her voice cut off and she ducked her head, fighting for control.  

When she looked away, he moved quickly to her side, his arms wrapping firmly around her.  She stood stiffly for a moment, before leaning against him with a shaky sigh.  

He brought a hand up to her hair, running his fingers soothingly through the tangled curls.  “Whatever it is, we can fix it.”  He would have continued, but she shook her head, pushing reluctantly away from him.  

She took several steps away, towards the door, before turning back to face him.  “No, we can’t.  Adrien, the mission went... badly.  It went all wrong even before I got there, and I didn’t have a choice.  But that doesn’t matter.  The Alliance expects me to go back to Earth.  To turn myself in for court martial.”  

He gaped at her.  “Is it really that bad?  There’s nothing else to do?”

She shook her head.  “I did what I had to do.  So is the Alliance.  It’s the only way.  I just wanted you to know.”

He walked back over to her, ignored the warning look she gave him, and set his hands on her shoulders.  

He was military.  He understood.  But he couldn’t resist the thin slice of hope in his voice when he said, “Stay here, then.  Don’t go.”

Her sad smile told him she understood both what he said and what he left unsaid, but she shook her head.  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.  When he leaned down to rest his forehead against hers, she returned the pressure without hesitation.  Then she broke away, and left the room.  She met his eyes.  “I can’t do that, no matter what happens.”  

He followed her out into the living area of the apartment, stopping when she opened the door and turned to look back at him.  “It’s up to them now.  I serve at the pleasure of the Alliance.”  She slipped out the door, closing it quietly behind her.

He hadn’t had a chance to tell her that his posting here was over, that he had been called back to Palaven.  He gave a humorless laugh when he realized he still didn’t know her last name, nor did she know his.  He had no way to contact her.

Adrien wondered if he would ever see her again.

Chapter Text

The walk from his room to the command tent grew longer every day.  It actually wasn’t very long as a physical distance; the effort it took to make that walk with his eyes fixed firmly on his destination was growing however, and making the distance seem longer.  It was an effort that needed to be made, though, as it would do the troops he commanded absolutely no good to see their general gaping up at the burning bulk of Palaven as it hung in the sky above them.

Adrien let out a silent sigh as he entered the command tent.  Looking around, he saw he was alone - not surprising at such an early hour.  He walked over to his secure terminal and pulled up the night’s reports.  He was still going over them when another set of footsteps approached and entered the tent.  Adrien didn’t look up until he was addressed by the wry drawl of the Primarch’s Expert Reaper Advisor.

“Good morning, General.  Are you sacrificing sleep or food to be at work so early this morning?”

Victus snorted softly and looked over.  “Advisor Vakarian.  I am sacrificing neither.”  At Vakarian’s doubt filled expression, he clarified.  “I am neither hungry nor tired, therefore no sacrifice is involved.”

He was unsurprised when Vakarian didn’t drop the matter; he had certainly been living up to his reputation of bucking the rules.  

“General, that will not help anyone.  I won’t force you to sleep, but I insist that you join me for breakfast.  The Reapers aren’t going to come up with anything new in the next 30 minutes.”  As Victus started to protest, he held up a hand.  “If not for your own sake, then for the sake of those you command.  It’s horrible for their morale to see you working yourself into the ground like this.  Take the time to take care of yourself, and they will follow your example.”  When Victus sighed and nodded, Vakarian waved him towards the mess tent, falling into step beside him.  

Apparently, making him eat wasn’t the only plan Vakarian had made; when they both had trays full of food, Vakarian led the way to a mostly empty table, and sat down at the middle of it.  Victus took the seat across from him, shooting the Advisor a dirty look.  The plan worked, though, and soon the seats around them were taken; Vakarian had made the general more approachable while at the same time preventing him from taking two bites of his meal and retreating to the command tent.  Victus leaned back in his chair reluctantly and prepared to stay for awhile.

The soldiers who had come to sit near them, however, ignored their general in favor of Vakarian.  It wasn’t surprising, most of the soldiers on Menae were young; few had ever met a human, and none had befriended or served with one for as long as Vakarian had.  The soldiers never tired of hearing Vakarian’s tales of serving with the legendary Commander Shepard; for his part, Vakarian seemed to have a never-ending supply of such stories, all beginning with, “There I was, watching Shepard’s six...”  Victus had heard several of those stories, and as he settled back to listen to another one, he picked idly at his breakfast.

One of the younger soldiers asked Vakarian, “Is there anything Commander Shepard wasn’t good at, sir?  It always sounds like she knows everything and does everything perfectly.  Is that really true?”

Vakarian laughed.  “No, she isn’t good at everything.  I’ll tell you about the two things she was horrible at: driving, and swearing.”  His audience looked eager and interested as he began his story.

….....................................................................................................................................

“This was way back when we were chasing after Saren, and at the beginning of the mission too, so I didn’t know Shepard very well.  We’d spent some time talking - she is a great listener, as well as being fun to listen to; and we’d gone on a few missions together - she is frighteningly competent on the field.  Another thing I had noticed was that she was always very calm - where others would be swearing a blue streak, she never did.  I don’t recall that I had ever heard her say anything stronger than “crap.”

“This mission was on Therum, to find an asari archeologist at some prothean ruins.  There wasn’t anywhere to dock, so the ground team - which was Shepard, Wrex, and myself - were dropped in the Mako.  Shepard was driving, and Wrex was on the guns.  I should have known something was wrong when the crew started wishing us luck as soon as Shepard’s back was turned.

“The Normandy’s pilot is very skilled, the drop was excellent.  There were rivers of lava everywhere, with only a relatively narrow path between them.  The mako landed firmly on one of these paths, and Shepard immediately gunned it.  And almost drove us straight into the lava.  

“She backed up and started out again, without saying a word.  Wrex and I were trying hard not to meet each other’s eyes, but I subtly fastened my seat belt.  She hadn’t gotten much farther when a geth dropship flew overhead, leaving a few presents along our path.  Wrex was taking them out pretty easily, until we got to the colossus.  

“Those things are huge, and well armored; as if that isn’t bad enough, they shoot energy balls that fry electrical systems.  Wrex was working it’s shields down, but it had already gotten a couple of energy balls headed our way - which is when Shepard decided to dodge it.

“A very sound plan, unfortunately she hadn’t accounted for the lack of room to maneuver.  She backed up, and when the rear end of the mako hit the edge of the solid ground, we started sliding towards the lava.  The stupid machine lost all traction - and since the thrusters only fired in one direction, using them would have blasted us backwards into the lava.

“I was holding on, trying to think of how I could take over the controls and get us out of that mess; Wrex was still shooting the colossus, but he’d gone silent instead of his usual war cries; Shepard was clutching the controls so tightly I could almost hear her knuckles cracking.  

“The only sound was Shepard swearing,” here, he raised his voice in a poor imitation of a human female, “shit-shit-shitty-shit!  Shit-shit-shitty-shit.”

“Finally, Wrex took down the colossus and roared triumphantly, the mako found some traction, and we were back on track.  Finished the mission without more than a close call or three.

“When we got back to the ship, Shepard made her usual rounds.  She always came down to the cargo hold last; she’d stop by engineering to talk to Tali, then come out to talk to Wrex, Chief Williams, and myself before heading back out.  

“Wrex isn’t much of a conversationalist, so Shepard usually had to drag information out of him.  This time, though, she’d barely gotten his name out before he started talking.

“What the hell was that, Shepard?”

“What do you mean, Wrex?  We got through in one piece, got Dr. T’Soni out safely.  Mission accomplished.”

“That’s not what I mean, Shepard.  You swear like a pyjack!  ‘Shit-shit-shitty-shit?’  What were you thinking?”

“Incidentally, you haven’t lived until you’ve heard a krogan warlord trying to sound like a human female.  Anyway, Shepard just stammered something about being told swearing was unbecoming in a lady when she was young, and never really picking it up.  Which is when Wrex volunteered to teach her to swear like a krogan, and started yelling insults at her.

“Chief Williams and I headed over to enjoy the show, and when he was done, we both jumped in; Williams taught her human swear words and I taught her some turian ones.  It was fun, we turned our translators off and learned the words in each native language.  Shepard took every opportunity to practice, and the comm chatter on missions was a lot more entertaining after that.

“Wrex didn’t know it, but he was creating a monster.  Shepard started collecting curses and swear words after that.  She harassed the crew endlessly; she got Liara to teach her asari curses and Tali to teach her quarian curses.  The human crew got in on the action too, humans have many different languages on their planet, and she kept finding people who knew words she hadn’t learned yet.

“She turned it into a hobby, almost; everywhere we went she was asking people to teach her new words.  I think she talked a Salarian out of a couple swear words on Noveria, and a volus banker on the Citadel.  Elcor curses are pretty disappointing*.  She even found a hanar on the Citadel and asked him.  That was the best one of all**.”

….....................................................................................................................................

Vakarian sat back in his chair, grinning at the amused soldiers in front of him.  They kept asking questions, and Victus had mostly tuned them out until he heard his name.

“What about you, General?  Have you known many humans?”

Victus looked over as the table fell silent.  The question brought his thoughts abruptly to his human; a fact which colored his subvocal tones with both pleasure and concern when he answered.  “Yes, I met quite a few humans while I was stationed on the Citadel; I knew some better than others.”  He lapsed back into silence, remembering his human and wondering if she was safe; the Reapers had hit Earth as well.  

He didn’t say any more, and the younger soldiers gave up on including him in the conversation; but Vakarian had caught the unspoken emotions in his subvocals, and was watching him closely.

….....................................................................................................................................

* “Insultingly: Your features are not symmetrical.” ~Elcor curse

** “This one believes the enkindlers neglected to give you any intelligence.” ~Hanar curse

Chapter Text

It felt good to shoot husks on Menae.  The meeting with the Council had gone about as well as Commander Shepard had expected; even if the council hadn’t learned anything about dealing with her over the past years, she had definitely learned a thing or two about dealing with them, and “go in with low expectations” was at the top of that list.  

She had muttered to herself the whole way back to the Normandy, had grumbled as she stood in front of the Galaxy Map setting the course for Palaven, and had scowled at anyone who started to mention the words “council” or “meeting.”  Compared to dealing with the council, shooting husks was a walk in the park.

And then, despite that she had nearly given up hope of finding him, Garrus arrived at exactly the right moment.  Seeing her best friend again had brought the first smile Shepard had worn since reporting to Earth for the court martial.  She was still riding the high of their unexpected meeting, barely paying attention as Garrus and Liara spoke to each other, when her world crashed to a halt.

“Palaven Command tells me the next Primarch is General Adrien Victus.”

The blood drained from her face and there was a roaring in her ears.  It couldn’t be.  Not her Adrien.  Surely it was just a coincidence.  Surely ‘Adrien’ was a common name among turians, right?  

But then Liara was telling a story, and she knew - she knew - the ending even before Garrus chimed in.  She mouthed the words along with him, “Didn’t lose a man.”  It was her Adrien.  She couldn’t think, her mind spinning with joy, but they were expecting something from her, so she asked if she could trust Victus.  She already knew the answer.

Suddenly, she couldn’t wait to get moving.  She jammed her helmet on her head just as Joker contacted her.  She realised she was being short with him, and sent Liara back in tacit apology.  She was eager to get to Adrien.

Kel barely noticed the fight with at the airfield, her mind filled with memories of Adrien.  The brute made an impression, and forced her to focus.  The focus didn’t last long, though; when Corinthus told her they couldn’t get Victus on the comm, she didn’t pause to think - they’d go on foot.

When they reached the camp and heard gunfire, she scowled.  No way were the reapers getting Adrien.  Fighting through the camp, she didn’t bother to suppress a grin - this would definitely be a grand entrance.  Shepard was glad none of her team could see her face through her helm.

Suddenly, they were out of reapers, and he was striding towards her.

….....................................................................................................................................

Victus breathed a sigh of relief as the camp fell silent, the last reaper troops disposed of.  Whoever the new arrivals were, they’d been helpful.

As they approached the command center, he walked out to meet them.  It was a pleasant surprise to see Vakarian; it was just plain surprising to see two humans with him.  One was a male, the other was a female whose helmet hid her face.  The speaker on the helmet modulated her voice, making it sound just slightly familiar, though he couldn’t place it.

When she introduced herself, he nodded slightly.  Commander Shepard.  That explained the slight sense of familiarity, he’d seen the human spectre on enough vids while he was on the Citadel.

He was curious about her presence, but it could wait.  Turning his attention to Vakarian, he nodded, hands linked tightly behind his back.  He wasn’t at all surprised that somehow Vakarian had found himself in the presence of the human again.

….....................................................................................................................................

Kel listened while Adrien spoke to Garrus.  She stood at ease, barely aware of the silly smile that was fortunately hidden by her helmet.  His voice had filled her dreams while she was stuck under house arrest on earth.  It was somehow rougher than Garrus’ with a different tenor that she attributed to a difference in the subvocal tones that she couldn’t quite hear, she wondered what those subvocal tones were saying.  

It hardly mattered; she knew him, could read him.  She could hear the hesitation in his words, even as he insisted he would not leave his troops.  She heard the conflicting emotions as he echoed Garrus’ statement of his promotion.  She heard the challenge as he told her his requirement for sending the turian fleet to earth.

….....................................................................................................................................

Their conversation seemed oddly... loaded.  Like she knew something he didn’t, and was just waiting for him to catch on.  When Vakarian broke the news that he was the Primarch, he realised what it was she’d been holding back.  As she shot down his objections, her calm gave him a center to hold on to; an anchor to ground him as the world shifted into a new pattern with the immense responsibility he now bore.

But when he told her he needed the krogan on Palaven before he could send his fleet to Earth, he was surprised by her nonchalant response.  She seemed far more concerned with removing her helmet than with his words or Vakarian’s banter.  He was increasingly concerned with her behavior as she removed the helmet and turned to face him.  She shook her hair out, and grinned.

Victus stood there, staring.  Kel.  She was alive.  She was here.  She was... Commander Shepard?  He blinked at her, mandibles gaping, not noticing that Vakarian and the other human soldier had started towards the shuttle.  He tried to think back to all those vids.  Had they ever mentioned Shepard’s first name?

She was still grinning at him, and he could read the relief, humor, and sheer joy in her eyes.  

He finally moved into the shuttle, never taking his eyes off her as he chose the seat opposite her own.  Vakarian and the human boarded, and he never took his eyes off her.  His human.  The shuttle lifted off with a jerk, and he never took his eyes off her.  

….....................................................................................................................................

He’d gone so quiet, Kel almost started teasing him, almost said anything just to hear his voice again.  But she caught his eyes, and the words died on her lips.  He was looking at her, his eyes moving over her before catching on her’s and holding; then his eyes would sweep over her again as if he didn’t quite believe what he saw, before returning to her face, gazes locking again.  

She liked his eyes almost as much as she liked his voice, and right now his eyes were more intent on her than ever.  She swallowed, and wondered how long she needed to wait to keep up appearances, before getting him alone.

….....................................................................................................................................

As they cleared the atmosphere, Vakarian and the human soldier were speaking together, but neither he nor Kel paid them any attention; their eyes locked only on each other.  

When the shuttle touched down in the Normandy, he finally remembered the vid he’d seen when she became the first human spectre.  The vid that had mentioned her name.  

Commander Kelela Shepard.  Spirits.  His human, his Kel, was none other than the savior of the Citadel.

As he stepped off the shuttle, he and Vakarian followed Kel to the elevator.  He felt Vakarian’s eyes on him, and suddenly remembered the suspicion he’d had ever since Vakarian started telling his endless ‘So there I was, watching Commander Shepard’s six’ stories.

His Kel.  

Vakarian’s Shepard.  

Spirits.  

Chapter Text

The elevator ride was... awkward.  Shepard stood there, her eyes flicking to Victus and away, again and again.  She was having to fight to keep from touching him; her hand kept drifting towards his, even a light brush of her fingers against his would have been a relief.  She didn’t know how he would want to do this though - would he want to keep it secret, or let everyone know? - or even if he still wanted anything to do with her.  When you came right down to it, they’d spent less than 24 hours in each other’s company.  Shepard didn’t know how her feelings had progressed so much, so fast, but they had; it was foolish to assume his had as well.

The doors opened onto the CIC, and she led the way out, speaking generally of the Alliance retrofit as she led Garrus and Adrien through the security checkpoint that had been Mordin’s lab, and into the war room.  After a brief tour of the war room, she left them to their own devices as she went to report to Admiral Hackett and take a call from the asari councilor.  When she exited the comm room, she was pleased to find Adrien alone.

When she approached him, however, he held himself stiffly and thanked her rather formally for the use of the Normandy.  He mentioned Garrus’ endless calibrations and she almost laughed, but there was something in the way he was watching her that had her nerves tightly strung, so she dove right into official business.

He was distant as they spoke, and then he asked “Is there something else I can help you with?” in the tone she knew from too many superior officers trying to get rid of her.  Her eyes narrowed, and feeling suddenly stubborn, she decided to draw out this conversation as much as possible.  She asked about Palaven, and immediately felt terrible as he told her about the progress of the reaper attacks.  No wonder he wasn’t whispering sweet nothings at her, he was worried about his people.

More gently this time, she asked about his new role as Primarch.  His voice roughened as he told her, but the strange tension he’d carried since they boarded the Normandy was easing.  

Then, somehow, she messed it up.  She mentioned how hard it had been to leave Earth, and suddenly his tone was sliding into something heavy with hidden meaning, his eyes narrowed as he studied her.  And then he was in her face; his words were kind enough, but his eyes were pinning her to the spot, and his tone was sharp.  Just as quickly, he broke eye contact and stepped away, assuming a nonchalant pose that had her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

Taking a careful breath, she thanked him with restraint and watched through narrowed eyes as he turned away from her.  Glowering, and muttering under her breath, she left the war room and stalked towards the CIC.  Halfway through the incomplete conference room, she turned back, determined to at least make him tell her what the heck was going on.

***

When Shepard walked back into the war room, she was wearing a bright smile.  She walked back over to the Primarch, and in a deceptively sweet tone offered him a tour of the Normandy.  Her eyes narrowed slightly, though her smile never wavered, when he tried to avoid it.  She was ready for every objection.

He told her he should work; she answered that the reports would still be there, and if anything urgent came up he would be contacted directly.

He told her he expected to spend most of his time in the war room, and wasn’t interested in the other areas of the ship; she answered that he should at least know where he could eat and sleep.

He told her that he’d get Vakarian to show him around; she replied that even Vakarian didn’t know what the retrofit team had accomplished, he’d have to get a tour himself later.

That last argument had Adrien’s gaze going sharp and predatory again, but he agreed to the tour.

As she led the way up to the cockpit, doing her best hostess impression, he stalked silently next to her, never saying a word.  She introduced him to Joker; he barely nodded at the pilot.  She introduced him to Traynor; the same response, but poor Traynor wilted under his implacable gaze.  Shepard’s eyes narrowed as they boarded the elevator.  

She punched the button for the crew deck, and stood staring at him expectantly.  He returned her gaze challengingly, but said nothing.  Biting back to the urge to make a loaded comment on the speed of the Normandy’s elevator, she remained silent until the doors hissed open.

He remained silent as she showed him the lounge, the mess, and the medbay.  Now determined to draw this out as long as possible simply to annoy him if nothing else, she took him to meet Liara, and then led the way to the main battery.  The look he gave Garrus, already settled in and tinkering with the Normandy’s guns, would have had any of her her human crew running for cover.  Garrus barely acknowledged it, though, giving back a slightly confused look of his own before returning his attention to the guns.  Shepard led him back to the elevator.

Another silent ride down to the engineering deck had her tired of the whole business.  Clearly, something had changed between them.  Whether it was that she’d read too much into things in the first place, her long absence, or something to do with his new position she didn’t know.  She decided to give him one last chance before giving up on him for good.

She led the way down to the engineering sublevel and turned to face him.

“I’m sorry, Primarch, the Normandy isn’t really set up for guests.  I can offer you a choice of rooms, though.  This is the first: it’s quiet and private, you won’t be bothered by anyone coming or going, and you don’t need to share it.  It’s a little light on amenities, but we’ll do what we can to make it comfortable for you.”

He looked around before turning back to her.  “I see.  And the other option?”

She didn’t answer, just motioned for him to follow her.  She led him back to the elevator and punched the button.  This time, she kept her eyes on the doors instead of watching him.  Her jaw clenched and her fingers rubbed nervously at the hem of her uniform tunic.  When the doors hissed open, she led the way across the short hallway and opened the door, motioning him inside.

“The other option, as you can see, has a bit more ambiance, and nicer amenities.  It does, however, come with a roommate.”  Here, her courage ran out.  “I’ll understand if you prefer the privacy of the engineering deck.”

His eyes swept over the room, noting the fish tank, the model ships, the large bed.  He looked back at her; in two steps he was in her face again, but this time, his eyes were warmer.

“And who, exactly, would my roommate be?”  He was relieved when she relaxed slightly and rolled her eyes at him.  “I think I would prefer the accommodations up here.”  He set his hands on her hips, pulling her gently forward; he was quite surprised when she twisted out of his grasp and slid away from him.

Walking down the few steps, Kel sat on the sofa and glared at him before dropping her gaze to where her hands were clasped tightly in her lap.  

“There is one requirement to choosing these quarters.  You have to tell me what the heck is going on.  First you dismissed me like some junior officer, then we have the whole ‘tall, dark, and grumpy’ thing while I was showing you around the ship.  You owe me an explanation, Adrien.”  She looked up at him, and he could see the hurt in her eyes.

Victus sighed, and sat down next to her.  “It’s just... I didn’t know you were Commander Shepard.”  She opened her mouth, the scowl back in place, but he held up a hand and continued.  “And no, before you ask, it doesn’t matter.  It’s just that I’ve been listening to Vakarian’s endless stories about Commander Shepard for weeks now.  I never guessed that my human and his human were the same person.”  He looked at her expectantly.  She was listening patiently, and completely missing the point.  He sighed, and added, “And, like I said, Garrus speaks highly of you.”  He put more weight to the words this time.

It took her a minute to realize that this was all the explanation he was going to give her.  It took her another minute to realize what he meant by it.  When she did, she gaped at him.  

“You thought there was something between me and Garrus?  And, what, you thought I was toying with you and cheating on him last time?  I do believe I’m insulted, Adrien.”

He growled at her, and reached out to pull her closer.  This time she let him, and ended up on his lap, one arm resting across his shoulders.

“I didn’t think you were doing it deliberately, really.  I just wasn’t sure if you were as serious as I was, on the Citadel.  We hardly know each other, I didn’t want to assume you felt the same as I do.  I thought it was possible that Vakarian hadn’t told you how he felt, if he felt anything.  And, well, he’s a very fine looking turian, and you’ve known him and trusted him for years, and he’s younger than I am, and-”  He would have continued, but Kel put her fingers over his mouth.

“Adrien.  Shut up.”

He gave her a reproachful look, but didn’t say anything since she was still covering his mouth.  She was smiling at him now, the genuine smile he remembered from their one day together all those months ago.

“Garrus is my friend.  That’s all he is.  I think you’re wrong about him being interested in me; even if he is, it changes nothing.  You’re the one I invited to share my room.  You’re the one I choose.  Got it?”

She took her fingers off his mouth and he would have answered, except she replaced her fingers with her lips, shifting until she straddled his hips, her mouth trailing down his jaw to the unplated skin at his throat and stealing his breath away.  His hands tightened on her waist before sliding up her back to tangle in her hair.

He did manage to reply with a brief, “got it” before she completely distracted him.

And then no more words were needed between them.  

Chapter Text

Politics was never his strong suit.  He hated politicians, and now he was one.  He remembered Shepard’s words on Menae: war was his resume and that’s what was needed.  So it really shouldn’t have surprised anyone that he and Wrex were shouting at each other.  Again.

He was trying to remain calm, but it was getting harder.  Who knew how long a cure would take?  Every minute meant more of his people dying.  Wasn’t it enough that he had agreed to allow the cure?  The scientists would finish their work, and make sure the cure was complete.  Meanwhile his world was burning, his people were dying, and he didn’t have time to ask nicely.

It was clear that Wrex wasn’t budging, though.  All he could do was hope that Mordin worked quickly; and that no matter how quickly he did, it would be soon enough.

He had been in the military long enough to know that when Shepard asked, “Now, is there anything else?” she expected the answer no.  He was sorry to disappoint her.

“There’s a small matter concerning a ship we’ve lost contact with.  I’d rather discuss it in private.”  The look she was giving him made it clear that she thought he was being difficult on purpose.  He was relieved that this wasn’t the case, he wouldn’t have wanted to deal with her if it were.

It was a relief when Wrex jumped in with his own problem, at least Victus wasn’t the only one who was going to annoy Shepard.  On second thought, that was a small consolation, since he was the only one who would get kicked out of her quarters over this.  He sighed.

Shepard told Wrex she’d catch up with him in the war room; when Victus would have gone as well, she pinned him in place with a glare.  He waited until the krogan clan chief had gone, then told her about the mission.

She stood there, looking surprised that he would tell her so little about a mission he wanted her to undertake.  He watched as she considered arguing with him, and decided against it.  She tried approaching the question from a couple different angles, but he always gave her the same non-answer.  Finally, she watched him in silence.

He stood there, not able to meet her eyes, mandibles flicking nervously.  This was important.  If she said no because he wouldn’t - couldn’t - give her the information she wanted...

He didn’t see her move until she was standing right in front of him.  She reached up, placing her hands on either side of his face, the gentle pressure stilling his agitated movements.  He still couldn’t look at her.  

This mission had brought them up on something he hadn’t even begun to consider approaching.  So many issues raised.  Her trust in him professionally.  Her trust in him personally.  Could they be separate things?

He knew she would be mad - very mad, and with reason - when she heard the rest of it, but he hoped that it wouldn’t stop her from helping him.

Her hands were steady on his face and he knew she was watching him, even though he couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes.  After a minute, she started brushing her thumbs lightly over his face; starting on either side of his nose, she traced his colony markings outwards, under his eyes and across his cheeks.  She went as far as she could without otherwise moving her hands, then started over.  

Adrien sighed, letting his eyes close and leaning slightly into her touch.  She touched him often; casual touches mostly, as well as those that led to something more.  It wasn’t something he was used to, turians were affectionate, but not physically demonstrative; he enjoyed her touch, though, and tried to respond in kind.

When his breathing had steadied, she spoke.

“What is there about this mission that has you so on edge, Adrien?  And I know it’s highly classified, that’s not what I’m asking.  What can you tell me?”  Her hands never left his face, her fingers never stopped moving, and for a minute he almost believed everything would be alright.  He knew better though.

He took a deep breath, his eyes still closed so he wouldn’t have to see her face.

“The commander is Tarquin Victus, he’ll be your contact.”

Her voice was deliberately level when she asked, “Victus?”

“My son.  I needed someone I could trust completely.”  

Her fingers stilled on his face, and there was silence for several long moments.

“Your son.  So, either you became a father when you were 5, or you’re older than I thought, hmm?”  She resumed the gentle brush of her fingers over his face.

His eyes flashed open, and he looked at her searchingly.  This was a small smile on her lips and she was watching him steadily, one eyebrow slightly raised.  

He set his hands on her waist; now that she hadn’t thrown him out of her room, off her ship, and out of her life, he didn’t want to run the risk that she might move away too soon.  He didn’t know what to say, but desperately wanted to say something.  

“Umm... no, I wasn’t five.”

She laughed softly, pulling his head down until she could rest her forehead against his.  She stayed there, and when he would have pulled away, her hands on his face held him there.  

“It’s alright.  Adrien, it’s alright.  Really.”

He let out a long breath, hands tightening on her waist and pulling her against him.  When she let her hands slide across his face and brought her arms around him, he responded by wrapping his own arms around her and resting his chin on the top of her head.

She didn’t move, just raised her voice, knowing EDI would hear her.  “EDI, tell Joker to set course for Tuchanka.  Let me know the ETA when we’re on our way.”  

He barely heard EDI’s acknowledgement, as some of the remaining tension left him and he sagged slightly where he stood.  When Kel pulled away, he let her go; she didn’t move far, just to where she could watch his face.

“We’re on our way.  We will get there in time.  We will find him, Adrien.”

He nodded; he knew she meant it, knew she would do everything in her power to make her words truth.

When she spoke again, her voice had shifted into something teasing with a dangerous edge.  

“So, anything else I should know about?”

He froze, his mind jumping back to the mission; yes, there was definitely something she should know, but he couldn’t tell her.

She laughed at his worried look.  “There isn’t a wife waiting on the Citadel, is there?”  

Relieved that she was asking a question he could answer, he shook his head.  “No.  There isn’t a wife waiting anywhere, in fact.  She died a long time ago.  An accident when Tarquin was young.”  He leaned forward to brush his forehead against hers.  “I wouldn’t cheat on you.  Or with you.  Whatever.  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Tarquin sooner.  I didn’t know how to bring it up, or when to bring it up.  I don’t have to move out, do I?”

Kel squirmed out of his grasp and started towards the war room, giving him an arch look over her shoulder.  “That depends entirely on how well you make it up to me.  Tonight.”

Her laughter floated back to him as she disappeared into the war room.

Chapter Text

Tuchanka was a mess.  Debris, reapers, and too many dead turians.  And if Garrus or Laira made one more comment about this mess, she would shoot both of them.

When they found Lt. Victus, Shepard held herself carefully.  He looked like Adrien.  Even beyond the colony markings that she knew by heart, they shared a similar build, he had lighter plating, but a similar sweep of mandibles; his voice reminded her of Adrien’s too, but without the calm confidence that Adrien’s had.  

She was still in her battle focus; all these details were taken in at a glance, as well as the state of the other soldiers and their surroundings.  When she asked what happened, and one of Tarquin’s men jumped into the conversation, she knew there was trouble.  

She could hear the grief and blame in the soldier’s voice; an equal amount of grief in Tarquin’s was combined with knowledge of his failure.  That could be dealt with later; right now, he needed not to lose command of his men.  They were right there, dancing on the edge of insubordination.  He would either lose them in this moment - and if he lost them, they were lost forever - or he would hold them, and have an opportunity to prove himself to them. 

He knew it, too, or at least sensed it; she could hear the fear in his voice as he ordered the soldier to stand down.  If she could hear it, the turians definitely could.  How many green officers tried to maintain their authority with that same combination of volume and attempted threat?  It never worked, he was about to lose them.

So, Commander Shepard stepped in.  A casual assumption of authority, with just enough annoyance clear in her voice to make it look like she was impatient rather than interfering; it worked, and bought Lieutenant Victus time.  He would need to at least be convincing at faking confidence if he wanted to redeem the situation.

As he explained to her what had happened, Shepard suppressed a sigh.  His initial reading of the situation had been sound, but his plan had more style than logic, more optimism than planning.  It reminded her of something Adrien had said on Menae, “War is in my bones.  But that kind of passion is... deceptive.  It can make you seem reckless when you’re anything but.”  She wondered if he’d ever taken the time to explain that to his son.

Shepard lowered her voice as she spoke to him; she wanted to help him find his spirit again, but she didn’t want the rest of his platoon to overhear her.  He had to be the one who gave them a reason to keep fighting, not her.  She watched as he pulled himself together, and then turned and pulled his unit back together.  

When he glanced back at her, she nodded.  He was clearly inexperienced; raised with the stories of his family’s prowess at war and his father’s high expectations, piled on top of the already high expectations of turians in general for military excellence.  He had probably spent his entire career overwhelmed by alternating feelings of failure when he tried to meet those expectations and fell short, and inadequacy when he couldn’t see the solutions he knew his father would have seen.  In her experience, a burning desire to prove yourself worthy of something even you knew was out of reach only led to disaster.

She took a moment to send a quick message to Adrien, knowing he had to be worried.

“We found them.  All survivors evacuated.  Tarquin safe.  ~Kel”

The reply wasn’t long in coming, but it made her wince.

“Thank you for the report, Commander.  I would like to debrief Lieutenant Victus personally, if you do not have any objections to his presence aboard the Normandy. ~Primarch Victus”

“Uh oh,” she muttered under her breath.  When Liara looked at her questioningly, she shook her head.  Fighting the urge to reply to this message with an utterly annoying “sir, yes, sir!” she typed back a quick, innocuous affirmative.

“Lieutenant Victus, will you accompany me back to the Normandy to report to the Primarch in person?  We’ll get you back to your men before going after that bomb.”  

She was pretty sure he flinched, but he covered it well with a respectful nod.  “Of course, Commander.”

….....................................................................................................................................

She couldn’t decide whether or not she was surprised when Adrien didn’t meet them in the shuttle hangar.  She knew perfectly well that he expected her to bring Tarquin directly to the war room; she also knew how much of a moral boost simply cleaning up would be.  As they boarded the elevator, she pushed the buttons for the crew deck and CIC.

“Garrus, please show the Lieutenant to the men’s room to get cleaned up, then bring him to the war room.”  When the elevator stopped, she shooed the two turians out the door before either had a chance to object.  She was fairly sure that Garrus suspected she was doing this on purpose, though he couldn’t guess at all her motives; she suspected Tarquin was too nervous to argue with anything, and probably pleased at a chance to delay the inevitably unpleasant meeting.

When the elevator deposited her in the CIC, she made her way past Traynor with a nod, and went directly to the war room.

She felt slightly better when she saw the expression on Adrien’s face when he looked up as the door opened; clearly, he had been more worried than he let on.  His expression changed to confusion when he saw that she was alone.

“Commander.  I thought Lieutenant Victus would be joining us?”

She nodded, keeping her tone bland as she walked towards him.  “He’ll be here shortly.  Garrus will be showing him up from the crew deck.  He’s just cleaning up.”

His eyes narrowed at her, but she clasped her hands behind her back and met his gaze calmly.  When he snorted and turned away from her, she relaxed and looked around the room.  The war room held a few too many people for the sort of meeting this was likely to turn into.  Unfortunately, with the Alliance’s retrofit the Normandy was rather short of private areas; especially private areas with enough soundproofing to remain private when they held angry turians.  Shrugging, she turned to EDI’s console.  

“EDI, if I kick the crew out of the war room for a time, would you be able to take over monitoring duties?”

EDI’s smooth voice answered her; she’d noticed that ever since obtaining her new mobile platform, EDI seemed disinterested in projecting the glowing sphere during conversations.  “Of course, Commander.  Will monitoring from the bridge be acceptable?”

“Yes EDI, that will be fine, thanks.”  She turned to the crew members on duty.  “Ok, guys, take a break.  EDI or I will let you know when you’re needed.”  They saluted respectfully and left.

That left only Wrex.  He was facing his console, but she knew he’d been listening.  She walked over to him.  

“Wrex.”

“Shepard.”

She grinned.  “Out.  I’ll let you know when the war room is open again.”

“Why should I be inconvenienced so he can yell at his whelp in private?  I don’t think so, Shepard.  I’ll stay right here.”

Shepard scowled at him.  “Wrex.  Get out.  Go visit the mess.  Or the lounge.  Or Eve.  Go harass Garrus in the main battery.  I don’t care, but the war room is closed.”

He gave her a stubborn glare, but remained silent.

She shrugged, and called out, “EDI, will you please lock all the consoles in the war room?”

As the interface on his console died, and the rest of the room’s interfaces did likewise, Wrex grumbled and made his way to the door.  Just as he reached it, it opened to admit Garrus and Tarquin.  Wrex barrelled between them, managing to shoulder check them both on his way out.  Garrus shot an annoyed look over his shoulder at the departing krogan; Tarquin barely seemed to notice, his eyes were fixed on his father.

Shepard slipped towards the door, catching Garrus’ eye and motioning him to follow her out.  

They made their way silently to the security checkpoint.  As they stood in the scanner, she cleared her throat pointedly, and the chattering ensigns fell silent.  

“No one goes to the war room until I tell you otherwise.  If anyone gives you a problem about following this order, lock the door and call me.  Understood?”

At their replies of ‘yes, ma’am’ followed by salutes, she nodded and led the way into the CIC.

“Thank you for escorting Lt. Victus, Garrus.  I appreciate it.”  He looked at her piercingly, but settled for a simple nod before heading to the elevator.  

Shepard made her way to her terminal, flipping through the messages and reports that always seemed to fill it, as she plotted.  Finally reaching a decision, she sent a request to the mess chief; then she occupied herself typing a message to Adrien and debating how much lead time to give him.  She decided that 45 minutes would be enough time for him to wrap up his work and reach her quarters on time, without giving him enough time to get suspicious.  Smiling, she set the delayed delivery just as the doors leading from the security checkpoint opened.

Turning, she saw Tarquin emerging - alone, fortunately for her - and looking rather the worse for wear.  He straightened to attention and saluted when he saw her.  She waved him over, and although his posture relaxed slightly, she could still see his tension; she wondered if he expected a dressing down from her, so she smiled in hopes of relieving that fear.  It didn’t seem to help, but he did approach her.

“Lieutenant, I’m glad I caught you.  I’m sure you’re eager to get back to your men, but I was hoping you would consent to return this evening, and join me for dinner.”

When he looked confused, she added, “It’s something of an old Earth tradition.  When high ranking officers met, they’d usually share a meal.  Nothing official, casual dress is fine.  It’s just a chance to relax a bit.  Will 1930 hours work for you?”  She could tell he was uncertain, but he nodded, unwilling to risk insulting her.

She smiled at him.  “Great, I’ll see you then.”  She nodded in reply to his salute and waited until he left to turn back to her terminal.  She made sure the message to Adrien was set to deliver before logging out of the terminal.  She sent EDI a quick message to put the war room back on normal operating status, then headed for the elevator, intent on putting her plans into action.

….....................................................................................................................................

Primarch Victus paced the war room, going over and over his conversation with Tarquin.  He was still vibrating with tension, and couldn’t focus his attention on his reports.

It was much later, when his omni tool beeped to notify him of an incoming message.  He pulled it up, and read it with some confusion.

Adrien,

There’s an old Earth naval tradition of senior officers dining with the ship’s commander.  I was hoping you would indulge me in upholding it, this evening at 1930 hours.  I think it will be good for everyone’s moral.  This is casual, and friendly.  No talk of the war!  I promise I have not invited Wrex.  Don’t be late!

~Kel

Chapter Text

The door chime sounded just as Kel finished setting the table.  She glanced at the time.  1928 hours.  Someone was wonderfully punctual.  Opening the door, she smiled at Tarquin Victus.

“Please, come in Lieutenant.”  She stepped aside and waved him into the room.  “Would you like something to drink?”

Tarquin was glancing around her quarters nervously; he spun to face her at her question.  “Yes, please, Commander.”  

She walked over to the cabinet and fridge that held the beverages and opened it, waving a hand at the contents.  “Pick your poison.  And please, call me Shepard.  Not official, remember?”  She smiled as the door chimed again, and set a glass on top of the cabinet for him.  “Help yourself.”

She was partway to the door when it opened and Adrien stepped in, looking quite dapper in a set of dark chocolate brown civvies.  His eyes swept over her, taking in her short sleeved, form fitting top and long flowing skirt; her loose, wildly curling hair and bright smile.  He smiled appreciatively throughout his perusal of her.  It was a smile he lost immediately when his eyes swept the room and landed on his son.  The speed with which he was glowering at her after this discovery was impressive.

“Commander.  I thought you said we were upholding an old Earth tradition.”  His tone was sharp and forbidding; anyone else would have given in right then.

Unfortunately for him, Commander Shepard was made of sterner stuff than most.  She simply gave him a bright smile and motioned for him to come the rest of the way in.  “Oh, we are.  Several, in fact.  I was just slightly more selective with the guest list than is usual.  This is exactly what I told you to expect: a casual dinner.  Nothing more, nothing less.”

Tarquin was looking between them uncertainly, his glass empty and held awkwardly in one hand.  Shepard smiled at him, then turned to glare at Adrien.

“However, if you feel the need to yell at me, Primarch, lets go out in the hall.  There’s no reason to make Tarquin uncomfortable.”

She brushed past him, and walked the length of the hallway, stopping at the end farthest from her door before turning to look back at him with a raised eyebrow.  He followed her, allowing the door to slide shut before he closed the distance between them.  He stood close, looming over her so that she had to tilt her head up to meet his gaze.  

“Kel, what are you doing?  You lied to me, or at least twisted the truth, and I don’t appreciate it!  I haven’t told Tarquin about... us.”  He huffed out an annoyed breath, still scowling at her.

“I didn’t think you had told him about us, and I don’t expect you to.  That’s not what tonight is about, Adrien.  It’s about you, and Tarquin, and the fact that there’s a war on.  You don’t know when you’ll see him again, or what might happen to either of you in the meantime.  Don’t let him leave on a sour note, Adrien.”

She was looking at him earnestly, her bright green eyes pleading with him.  He sighed.  “Fine, you’re right.  You win.  Don’t gloat, Kel.  And no teasing.”  His eyes swept over her.  “No more teasing, I should say.  Spirits, Kel, what are you thinking wearing that when I can’t touch you all night?”

Kel laughed, reaching up to brush her fingers along his mandible.  “I figured if you were mad at me, this might give you an incentive to talk about it, instead of hiding in the war room all night.  Remember to call me Shepard, hmm?  Don’t want you to give us away.  And I didn’t lie.  It was traditional, back when the navy had to do with sailing ships, for senior officers to dine with the captain.  It was quite an honor, you know.  In no small part because the food at the captain’s table was of a much better quality than what the rest of the crew got.”  She grinned, and headed back towards her cabin door, hips swaying.  “I meant what I said about no war talk, so be nice.”  She reached the door, and looked over her shoulder at him before keying it open.  “And remember to look honored.”

….....................................................................................................................................

Her easy smile when she went back into the room seemed to surprise Tarquin; apparently he really had expected Adrien to yell at her.  The fact that Adrien followed her into the room, and proceeded to make polite small talk with both of them, was clearly a shock.  It was several minutes before the lieutenant managed to join the conversation.

Shepard was surprisingly useful at filling the conversation silences before they became uncomfortable, dropping a light joke or helpfully leading question where required, all while removing containers of food from a large crate and arranging it on plates.  It smelled unexpectedly good, and both Adrien and Tarquin were talking less as they tried to catch a glimpse of what she was doing.  

Finally, she smiled, and told them to get drinks and sit down.  As they did, and Adrien got her one of her favorite drinks from the fridge without asking, she brought the food over to the table.  

She had wedged a square table in the space between couch, bed, and the aquarium wall.  Shepard took the seat next to the aquarium wall herself, since it had the least space, setting the meals for Adrien and Tarquin on the sides facing each other.  They sat down, attention immediately on the food that was offered.  It actually was food, not military rations, and they both stared at it in shock.  

Tarquin looked from his plate to Shepard, mandibles flared in a tentative grin.  “If this is the way the Alliance feeds it’s soldiers, or even just it’s officers, I’m requesting a transfer immediately.”

Shepard laughed and he relaxed, his smile becoming more genuine.  “I wish I could tell you that it is an Alliance recruiting tactic.  That would be brilliant.  Unfortunately, we usually end up stuck with boring rations, just like every other military in the galaxy.  Just ask your father, even visiting diplomats don’t get special meals.”

“Special meals?  Shepard, I’d settle for average meals.  The dextro rations aboard this ship probably come from stockpiles older than I am.  I know the things say they never expire, but your mess chief seems determined to test the theory.”  Adrien heaved an exaggerated sigh.  “Do you have any idea of the diplomatic incident that would be caused by the premier ship in the Alliance fleet poisoning the Hierarchy’s Expert Reaper Advisor and the Primarch?  The reapers would be the least of your worries.”

They all laughed, and relaxed, and dinner passed pleasantly.  Adrien and Kel eventually began telling stories of past exploits, falling naturally into a contest of one upping each other.  Tarquin listened mostly in silence; Shepard started turning to him as the judge in their contest, calling on him for his opinion when Adrien’s stories seemed impossibly fantastic.  Eventually, Adrien followed suit, and Shepard began to believe her plan was a success.

Until she told a story of a mission that went wrong at every possible turn (and several times when error seemed impossible), and Adrien called her on it.  Tarquin sided with her, and Adrien responded with a pointed comment on mission failures that was slightly too pointed.  An uncomfortable silence fell over the group.  Tarquin looked miserable, he kept opening and closing his mouth as if he thought he should say something, but didn’t know what; Kel was glaring at Adrien.  Adrien looked mildly apologetic, but clearly wasn’t going to back down, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

Suddenly, the table jumped and there was a muffled thud that was clearly audible in the awkward silence.  Shepard groaned under her breath and bent down to rub her toes.  When she looked up, she found herself graced with confused looks from both men.  

“Damn naturally armored turian,” she swore, glaring at Adrien.  “Who knew your shins are as hard as your stubborn head.”

For his part, Adrien was trying hard not to laugh at her.  “Commander, did you just kick me?  Whatever for?”

“It was supposed to be a subtle way of reminding you to behave yourself.”  She glanced over at Tarquin, and was pleased to see that he was looking less miserable and more entertained; it was probably rare that anyone called his father out on his behavior.  “You broke the one rule of the evening, after all.  Casual, remember?”

Adrien snorted under his breath.  “I thought the rule was ‘remember to look honored.’  Fine, you’re right,” he added before she could try kicking him again, “and I apologize.  I didn’t mean that to come out the way it did.”

Shepard smiled at him, and stood up.  “Apology accepted.  Who wants dessert?”  She headed back up the stairs to where she’d left the crate, returning quickly with the promised desserts.

….....................................................................................................................................

The evening ended soon after dessert.  Tarquin helped load all the dishes and tableware back into the crate, and Shepard pushed it into the corner under her shelves.  She offered a last drink; Adrien accepted, but Tarquin declined, saying he wanted to get back to his men to prepare for their mission the next day.  

Shepard and Adrien walked Tarquin to the door; she thanked him for coming, accepted his thanks in return, and offer him her hand.  He shook it and she smiled, bidding him a good night before she turned back to finish tidying the room, leaving some privacy for his farewell from Adrien.  She watched surreptitiously, and caught the Primarch embracing his son briefly, and Tarquin’s surprised look as he returned the gesture.  She smiled.  Mission accomplished.

Kel heard the door hiss shut.  She didn’t hear Adrien’s footsteps, but suddenly he was there, sliding his arms around her from behind, and pulling her back against him.  She smiled, squirming slightly against his hold, a shiver running through her at his low growl.

“I don’t know if I should be upset at you for tricking me, grateful that you arranged the most pleasant evening I’ve spent with my son in years, or annoyed that you’ve been such a tease.  What do you think?”

Kel smiled and squirmed again, this time managing to loosen his hold enough that she could turn in his arms until she was facing him.  

“I think you should be slightly grateful I tricked you, very grateful for the pleasant evening, and incredibly grateful that I’m such a tease.  Of course, I also think you should thank me by taking me to bed.”  She smiled, and reached up to curl her hand around the back of his neck, tugging his head down until she could press her forehead against his.  

He returned the pressure, closing his eyes and holding her tightly, feeling tension he hadn’t known he was carrying melt away.  “I like the way you think.”

….....................................................................................................................................

The Normandy must have the slowest elevators in the galaxy,  Tarquin mused as he waited for the doors to open.  It had definitely been an... interesting evening.  He hadn’t known what to expect when Commander Shepard invited him for a meal.  Whatever expectations he’d formed, he’d been wrong.  

When his father showed up, he’d feared the worst.  When Shepard had casually invited the Primarch to yell at her in the hallway, Tarquin had winced in sympathy.  She seemed to have won the argument though, because his father had followed her back into the room.  He’d even acted like he wanted to be there.  After the unpleasant debriefing earlier, Tarquin had been bracing himself for a long and uncomfortable evening.  But somehow, the Commander’s wishes had prevailed, and it hadn’t been uncomfortable at all.  

Clearly, this wasn’t the first meal his father had shared with the human commander.  They’d seemed comfortable with each other, and he had never known his father to be so relaxed with anyone.  It wasn’t an unbelievable situation, but it was certainly surprising.  Tarquin had never known his father to have a friend.

He shrugged, and glanced at the elevator doors again.  They remained stubbornly closed.  It had been kind of Shepard to go to so much trouble for the meal.  She would be putting her room back in order for a while, and that crate hadn’t been light - she’d probably have to drag it to the elevator and back to the mess.  

The elevator doors finally opened, and Tarquin stepped inside.  He was just about to push the button for the shuttle hanger, when a thought struck him.  He could take the crate of used tableware and food containers to the mess hall for her; it was the least he could do in appreciation for her kindness.  He pushed the hold button, and the door open button, and stepped out, going quickly to the Commander’s door.

He pushed the door chime, glancing back at the elevator impatiently.  He hoped he wasn’t delaying anyone else’s trip, the thing was slow enough already.  Shepard hadn’t opened the door, but the green indicator showed it was unlocked.  He reached out and tapped the release.  She was unlikely to be doing anything requiring privacy; after all, his father was still there.  They were probably talking and hadn’t heard the chime.  He’d just interrupt briefly, grab the crate, and be on his way.

The door slid open.  At first glance, Tarquin saw his father standing in the middle of the room, bent over oddly, and Shepard was nowhere to be seen.  His second glance explained his father’s odd posture: his arms were around Shepard’s waist, their foreheads pressed together.  

Tarquin let out a surprised yelp, and blinked frantically.  The picture didn’t change.  He blinked again, and this time it did change, but only because his father and Shepard had turned at his sound and were looking at him with almost comical expressions of surprise.

“I... uh... just thought I’d carry the crate out for you, Shepard.”  Tarquin stammered, edging sideways towards the crate.  “I thought it might be... too heavy for you.  Just wanted... to help!”  Tarquin grabbed the crate and dashed out the door.  He made it to the elevator before the door to Shepard’s quarters had started to slide shut.  The elevator doors moved as slowly as the rest of it, so he caught his father’s uncomfortable cough and Shepard’s peal of laughter, before the doors closed and the elevator carried him away.

Chapter Text

Awkward.  Awkward awkward awkward.  Shepard repeated the single word in a silent chant during the shuttle ride.  She hadn’t contacted the turian shuttle yet, she was waiting for that feeling of awkwardness to die down.  

Oh, it had been hilarious last night.  When they heard the door chime, Adrien had growled “ignore it,” and she had.  She hadn’t heard the doors open, but Tarquin’s surprised yelp was audible enough.  Adrien froze for an instant, then carefully turned around.  Shepard leaned far enough to see around him, her eyes widening in surprise when they landed on a very shocked looking Tarquin.

Her surprise had been washed away by her amusement.  She’d fought it as long as she could, but between Tarquin’s nervous stammering and the slow blue blush creeping up Adrien’s neck, she’d lost the fight; when her door started closing she gave in and laughed.  Adrien had given her a death glare, naturally, but that didn’t help at all to quell her giggles.  Finally, he’d resorted to extremely unfair measures to get her to stop laughing.  The night had ended well.

Now, though, it was just awkward.  She had to work with Lieutenant Victus, and there hadn’t been time before the mission to discuss his discovery of last night.  Awkward.

Finally, she couldn’t delay any longer, and opened a channel to the turian shuttle.  When she heard the mission parameters, all trace of awkwardness was gone.  She was going to kill the Primarch with her bare hands for keeping this a secret from her.  

A bomb.  A huge, ancient, turian bomb sitting on Tuchanka and he hadn’t thought it worth mentioning to her.  Death was too good for him, even death by enraged human spectre.  There were so many better ways to handle this than a small ground squad and a head to head fight with Cerberus, but there was nothing she could do about it now except continue with the plan.  

They hit the ground running, and of course Cerberus troops were waiting at the drop off point.  Quite a lot of Cerberus troops, actually; the Illusive Man had sent a good sized army to get control of this bomb.  Shepard thought it would have made more sense (from a Cerberus standpoint) to simply detonate the bomb, rather than play around with whatever they were trying to do down here; far be it from her, though, to give tactical advice to their enemies.  For all his intricate strategies and plots, the Illusive Man seemed to fall back on the old “bigger is better” plan fairly often.

That just meant that it was a long, hard slog through innumerable Cerberus troops before they reached the bomb site.  Drop ship after drop ship brought fresh Cerberus troops in.  She’d brought Garrus and Liara with her on this mission, and they were all exhausted by the time they actually saw the bomb.  Lt. Victus was already on the control platform, with two soldiers keeping watch; Shepard sincerely hoped this wasn’t all that was left of the Ninth Platoon.  Shepard and her team hurried up to the platform before Cerberus decided to land any more troops in their way.

“Cerberus set up a firewall around the trigger mechanism to slow us down.”  Lt. Victus greeted her with the cheerful information as soon as she climbed up onto the platform.  He spoke to her over his shoulder, all his attention of the screen before him.  “I need to create a bypass.  That’ll take time.  But like you said: no trigger, no explosion.”

Shepard didn’t bother asking if he knew what he was doing; one of the first things you learned when commanding combat missions was that if someone said they could do something, you either agreed and let them do it without watching over their shoulder, or you disagreed and came up with a different plan.  This was Tarquin’s show, she wasn’t about to second guess him.  She nodded instead.  “We’ll make sure you have the time you need, Lieutenant.”

“Understood.  Starting bypass.”  For the first time, he paused, and turned to look at her.  “And thank you for making sure I have this chance.”

Shepard met his eyes, and nodded firmly.  “Just make it right soldier.”

He hesitated a moment longer, his eyes searching hers.  “I’m... glad my father has you in his life, Commander.  He needs someone he can depend on.”  

Shepard blinked in surprise, then reached out and gripped his arm firmly, tightly enough that he could feel the pressure through his armor.  “He depends on you too.  And he is proud of you, Tarquin.”  She wasn’t sure if she should say more, but before she could decide a wet crunching sound and a spray of blood pulled their attention back to the mission as one of the turian soldiers dropped.  Shepard scrambled for a position that provided both cover and a vantage point, even as the second turian soldier fell.

More Cerberus troops, naturally.  She told Lieutenant Victus to concentrate on the bomb and assured him that her team would handle Cerberus.  Then her focus was taken completely by aiming and shooting, moving from cover to cover, planning where to shoot or run next.  She grinned fiercely at the Cerberus twits who thought standing in the open door of a hovering shuttle before jetting slowly down to the ground was a useful battle tactic.  It was a mistake they wouldn’t have an opportunity to correct.

Of course, Cerberus had brought an Atlas.  She didn’t know what sort of issues they were trying to compensate for with the things, they were practically useless when there was plenty of cover, and the weakest part of the stupid machine also happened to be where the live person was located.  Dumb.

Finally, just as her team finished off the last few soldiers, she heard Victus’ triumphant shout.  

“Commander!  Firewall’s down!  I’m in!”  She had just started a sigh of relief when he spoke again, in a much different tone.  “Spirits!  Cerberus hacked the trigger mechanism!  It’s set to detonate!”

Then everything was moving too fast, outside her control.  Lieutenant Victus snapped at her to cover him, and started to climb the scaffolding holding the bomb.  It wasn’t a great plan, but she couldn’t see a better one in those few seconds, so she kept quiet, making sure the few remaining Cerberus troops couldn’t get a shot at Victus.  

She heard the massive clamps releasing, but kept her attention on the enemies before her.  Just another few minutes, enough time for Tarquin to climb down, and they could leave.  There was a hideous screech of metal, and Shepard spared a glance up at the bomb hanging above them, only to see Victus hanging from the side of one clamp, manually releasing it.  She yelled at him, and saw him glance down at her.  

“Victory.  At any cost.”  His voice was calm and determined.  A second later, the trigger fell away from the bomb; his grip loosened, Lieutenant Victus fell into the pit and the trigger followed.  

Shepard ran towards him, one hand outstretched uselessly.  She reached the edge and fell to her knees, even knowing there was nothing she could do, mere seconds before the explosion rocked her backwards.

….....................................................................................................................................

Shepard was silent on the shuttle back to the Normandy.  She knew her answer to Joker was flat, knew she was worrying him and Garrus, but she couldn’t find the energy to care.  She could only think of Tarquin’s last words, the image of him falling; she could only think of what she would say to Adrien, how he would feel to lose his only son.

She went through the motions when the shuttle docked: got cleaned up and changed, and had a briefing with Hackett.  By the time she stepped out of the comm room and into an argument between Wrex and the Primarch, she was no longer numb - Shepard was angry.  

Angry at the senseless loss of life, which may have been prevented if the mission parameters had been made clear earlier.  Angry at the turians who had planted the bomb in the first place.  Angry at the krogan for the rebellions which had prompted the genophage and the bomb.  Mostly, she was angry at herself for agreeing to a mission she knew she didn’t have enough intel on.

So she really didn’t mind the opportunity to yell at Wrex and the Primarch.  It felt rather good.

When Wrex stormed off, she was still mad and very near to tears.  She turned to the stare blankly at the glowing image of the crucible; she needed to get out of here and burn off some of this anger, it wasn’t doing anyone any good for her to be this angry.  Before she could leave, though, the Primarch approached her.

She would always hate herself for what she said next.  “Secrets get people killed.  You’ve learned that the hard way.”  She felt horrible the moment she said it, and wished she could call the words back.  He was the last person who should feel the sharp edge of her anger right now.  

Arguing with Wrex or speaking with her, Adrien’s voice had been level ever since she returned to the Normandy.  She knew him well enough to know it was a forced calm; her words shattered it completely.  

“Yes... the hardest lesson I’m ever to learn, Commander.”  She winced at the pain she heard in his voice.  She reached out to touch him, to apologize, but he turned away and walked up the steps, moving as if he were hundreds of years old.  

She listened as he tried to pull himself back together, groped after the professional facade he wanted to show the world; but his voice betrayed him, he couldn’t get through his prepared speech, and he walked away before he finished it.

Commander Shepard was left alone in the war room.  Spinning, she punched the center console as hard as she could, welcoming the pain in her hand.  She stood there in the silence for several minutes before she could gather enough calm to face her crew.  Then she squared her shoulders, put on a pleasant expression, and went to make her rounds.  Because there was still a war to fight.

Chapter Text

Commander Shepard made her rounds of the Normandy, as usual.  She stopped and talked to everyone who wanted a word with her, as usual.  She finished up on the crew deck, as usual.  Instead of heading to the elevator, though, she turned to the observation lounge and went directly to the bar.  Not usual at all.

Commander Shepard never indulged in alcoholic beverages while aboard ship.  Oh, she enjoyed the occasional brain rotting drink while on shore leave, but never while she was on board her ship.  Even though she was technically off duty, she was always on call; she drank soda or tea, and left the rest for shore leave.  Tonight, she was about to make an exception.

She stood there, behind the bar, staring blankly at her options.  It was actually a rather well stocked bar, and she wondered who was taking the time and effort to maintain it.  She reached for a glass, and set that on the counter while she stared at the bottles arrayed before her.  She was just reaching for one, when Joker’s voice came over the comm.

“Uhh, Commander?  You might want to head down to the cargo hold.  Got a situation brewing?”

Shepard sighed, and poured the drink.  “What’s up, Joker?  Can it wait a bit?”

“Well... James says it’s important, but only if you actually like the cargo hold.  And, you know, want it to still be there next time you go down?”

She could hear other voices faintly through the comm; Vega was most likely in the cockpit, having brought his issue to Joker instead of her.  There was someone else, too, but they were being more careful about being caught by the comm speaker.  Sighing, Shepard looked longingly at her drink.

“Alright, I’ll bite.  What’s going on?”

“James was down there doing pull ups (big surprise), and he says the Primarch came down, looking like he was going to kill something.  James offered to spar with him, and got himself thrown across the room.  I’m having EDI pull the security footage now.”  Joker stage whispered the last part, and there was a scuffle in the background.  “Anyway, he left pretty quickly, but he was worried about the Primarch, so he went to talk to Garrus.”

Well, that explained the second voice.  James and Garrus had gone up to talk to Joker, and had let him do their dirty work for them.  Shepard picked up the glass, sighed, and poured the drink down the drain.

“Garrus told James he values his life and good looks too much to argue or spar with Primarch Victus in this mood.  He thinks we should just leave him alone down there, let him destroy stuff if he wants, and wait for this all to blow over.  James is worried about the gym equipment, I’m worried about the ship.  So we called you.”  

Shepard set her glass in the sink, and walked slowly towards the lounge door.  “So let me get this straight.  Our resident built-like-a-tank marine and my ‘top ranked hand to hand combat specialist’ gunnery chief are afraid of the big, bad turian diplomat.  And so their solution is to send the unarmed human down to deal with the problem.  Is that about the shape of it?”

She could hear voices raised in the background, one defensive and one gloating.  Finally, Joker answered her.

“Well, Garrus says that his solution is wait it out.  James is too pleased that you think he’s built like a tank to come up with any other solutions.  Did you really have to tell him that, Commander?  He’ll be insufferable from now on!”

Shepard laughed and pushed the elevator call button.  “Alright, I’ll deal with it.  EDI, are you up there?”  At the AI’s smooth affirmative, Shepard continued.  “Great.  When I get to the cargo hold, I want the elevator locked away from that level, all the windows opaqued, and the security monitors turned off.  Your terminals too, put them on manual entry only.  If I’m going to get my ass handed to me by the Primarch, I don’t want the show to end up on Joker’s extranet feed next to that video of James practicing his muscle pose in the men’s room mirror.”  

There was dead silence for a moment, then James shouted something in Spanish that she didn’t catch, and Joker hastily denied all claims.  Grinning, Shepard boarded the elevator and terminated the comm connection on the sounds of scuffle and dire threats.

….....................................................................................................................................

When the elevator deposited her in the cargo hold, Shepard could hear the muffled thuds of someone using the punching bag with all their strength.  She sighed.  She had assumed Adrien would find his way down here.  He’d been far too controlled in the war room; that sort of emotional suppression always needed an outlet eventually.  She walked towards the corner that held the punching bag, and simply watched him for a moment.

He’d taken his shirt off, but clearly hadn’t bothered with changing before coming here; she wondered if he’d come directly when he left the war room, of if he’d paced around their quarters first.  She winced at the thought.  Hopefully their quarters were still in one piece.  

Shepard sighed.  So far she’d been on the same emotional suppression page as Adrien, she had been hoping that a drink in the lounge would help a bit in that respect.  Nothing she could do about it now, though; he needed her far more than she needed time to herself.  She put on the blandest look she could manage, and took a deep breath.

Deliberately, she stepped into his field of vision and cleared her throat.  When his head swiveled towards her to favor her with a glare, she crossed her arms and leaned back on one leg; her pose was relaxed and casual, but carefully designed to deflect anger long enough for him to start listening.

“So, Adrien, are turians familiar with the concept of a sacrificial lamb?”  Her tone was calm and steady, not making light of his feelings, but letting them slide off her without a reaction.

He paused in his attack on the bag, and turned to face her, his head tilted in an expression of curiosity.  “No, it’s not something I’ve heard of, Commander.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly at his use of her title, but she kept the rest of her expression carefully bland.  “I would have thought it would be popular with turians.  It’s just the idea of sending one person into a dangerous situation to protect many others.  In this case, I’m the lamb.  And I’m here to protect my ship and equipment; and the crew members who are afraid to confront you.”  She nodded toward the punching bag.  “Do you have any idea how much that thing cost?  Or how difficult it was to find?  I don’t want to have to buy Lieutenant Vega a new one when you destroy it.  Come fight with me instead?”  

She made the last offer a question, even as she removed her uniform jacket in expectation of his agreement.  The short sleeved shirt she wore underneath would provide much greater freedom of movement than the jacket did, and she was going to need all the help she could get.

Adrien looked at her, and shook his head.  “That is not a wise idea, Commander.  I came down here so I could hit things without thinking.  If we spar, I shall either have to think or cause you harm.  I don’t wish to do either.”

Shepard shrugged, but she was pleased that he was at least thinking enough to be worried about hurting her.  She turned toward the locker that held the sparring pads.  “That’s easily solved.  This will work better than hitting a defenceless bag, anyway.”  She began pulling the pads on.  Adrien stood without moving while he watched her; when she walked into the center of the cargo hold, he followed without a word.

Shepard dropped into a balanced stance, facing him, and nodded.  He started slowly at first, still afraid of hurting her.  As she met each strike without difficulty, he started hitting harder and faster.  Soon he was going full out, harder and faster than with the punching bag, and her hands were tingling from the force of his hits.

…....................................................................................................................................

Kel watched his eyes, trusting to his precision and her instincts that his strikes would land on padding.  Slowly, his eyes lost the blank fury he’d been wearing when she came down; slowly, she saw the raw emotion drain from him, spending itself against the pads.  Not long after, he stopped hitting at her, and stood still trying to catch his breath.

She straightened and started removing the padding.  It was a bit more difficult to get out of than it had been to get into it, and she had to pause to shake feeling back into her hands before she could remove some of it.  Adrien wandered away to collapse onto a crate, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees.  Kel dropped the pads to the floor and followed him.

He didn’t move as she approached him, didn’t so much as glance at her.  It was what she expected, so she didn’t let his indifference stop her.  When she reached the crate, Kel dropped down in front of him to kneel between his feet, hooking her arms around his knees and weaving her fingers together behind his elbows.  This brought her face within inches of his, and she angled her head to catch and hold his gaze.

Adrien was trying desperately to regain his distance; to put barriers between him and his feelings, between himself and her.  It was the way he usually dealt with strong emotions: separate, bury, ignore.  Eventually, they went away and he could focus on duty.  It had always worked in the past; it was how he’d continued after the loss of soldiers under his command, after his mate’s death, after failed missions.  This time, it wasn’t working.  She was getting in the way, making it impossible.

He tried to avoid her eyes, and when that didn’t work he tried to shift away.  That didn’t work either, she’d tangled them thoroughly together and the best he could manage was leaning back; since she just leaned forward to match him, it wasn’t a helpful move.  He stared at her, uncertain what to do next.

Kel met his eyes, and when she was sure she had his attention, she spoke in a whisper.  “I’m so sorry, Adrien.  For Tarquin, and for lashing out at you.  You didn’t deserve it, I was just angry.”  When she fell silent, he made one last half-hearted attempt to pull away from her.  When she didn’t let him, he let out defeated sigh, and leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers.  

The tension Kel had been carrying since landing on Tuchanka rushed out of her at that touch.  She brought her hands up to his face, palms gently pressing against his mandibles as she held him there.  She started talking, her voice low and often unsteady, telling him about the mission, about Tarquin’s bravery, about the obvious respect he had earned from the surviving soldiers of the ninth platoon.

When her voice faltered and broke, Adrien’s shaking voice answered her.  He told her about Tarquin as a boy, about their triumphs and their family battles.  He told her how much he had loved his son.  As he spoke, he brought his own hands to her face, gently brushing away the tears she shed for them both.  Finally, he ran out of words and fell silent.  

….....................................................................................................................................

They stayed there, not moving or talking for some time.  When Kel shifted awkwardly, Adrien’s eyes opened and found hers.  

She offered him a small smile.  “Foot fell asleep.  You know, our quarters are much more comfortable.”

Adrien’s breath caught with the rush of emotions brought forth by her casual comment.  Our quarters.  He stared at her, trying briefly to sort through everything he felt, but soon gave it up.  The thought of Tarquin’s death hovered at the edges of his awareness, all too ready to overwhelm him.  He’d worry about the strength of his feelings for Kel later.  

For now, he managed a small smile and stood, pulling her to her feet.  “That’s a plan I can agree to.”  He kept hold of her hand as they headed to the elevator, telling himself it was only to steady her while she regained sensation in her foot.  He would address his other feelings later.

Chapter Text

The Genophage was cured.  Commander Shepard sat on a large concrete block, staring out at the desolate Tuchanka landscape as Clan Urdnot and whatever allies had managed to arrive started what promised to be a truly epic celebration.  She swung her feet as they dangled over the edge of the block, listening to the sound her armored boots made.  She wasn’t in the mood for a celebration; she’d accepted Wrex and Bakara’s thanks, and the many pleased back slaps from the rest of Clan Urdnot, then wandered off alone.

She wasn’t alone for long.  Her friends assumed that she was feeling guilty about Mordin’s death, and they kept trying to come cheer her up.  Some did better than others.

Liara had walked over and sat beside her, clearly determined to be helpful, her smooth voice quiet as she spoke about Mordin’s family, and leaking the news of what he had accomplished to them.  Shepard and Liara both knew that the Dalatrass would try to keep Mordin’s change of heart a secret.  Finally, Liara ran out of words and left.

Not much later, Garrus had come to join her.  His attempt at cheering her up had taken the form of stories about Mordin - mostly from during the Collector mission - and he soon had her smiling.  Garrus listened well, too, and he laughed appreciatively as she told him of Mordin’s singing.  When she fell silent, he was content to sit there, staring out at the ruins in silence.  After a time he stood, rested one hand briefly on her shoulder, and left her to her thoughts.

Wrex tore himself away from his celebrating clan long enough to come tell her of his respect for Mordin; he told her of Bakara’s plan to name a child after the salarian, of his own plan to raise a statue honoring the salarian to make sure all krogan remembered him.  Wrex didn’t stay long, the partying krogan kept calling out to him, so after a few minutes he turned and left, offering to bring Shepard a glass of rincol whenever she wanted it.

Bakara came when Wrex had left.  Unlike the others, she simply sat next to Shepard in silence.  Her presence was soothing, her silence appreciated.  Shepard came closest to telling Bakara what was really bothering her, but she still held back.

She was saddened by Mordin’s passing, of course; he’d been a trusted friend and comrade, his quick chatter and dry humor had been a highlight of her rounds throughout the mission to take out the collectors.  She knew, though, that Mordin had made his own choices; he’d gone down the way he wanted to, doing something he believed in.  She couldn’t feel guilty at his passing.  Sorrow for the loss of a friend, absolutely; but not guilt.

No, Shepard was sitting alone because now that the problems here had been solved, her problems were just beginning.  

The genophage was cured.  Wrex would send krogan troops to Palaven as quickly as they could find transportation.  The krogan troops would push back the reaper forces currently occupying Palaven.  With krogan troops on his homeworld, Primarch Victus would send the turian fleets to Earth.  

With these problems solved, Primarch Victus would no longer need to remain aboard the Normandy.  And this was the reason Shepard was sitting out here, scowling at the Tuchanka landscape.  Adrien hadn’t wanted to leave Palaven to begin with, he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to return now that there was nothing keeping him back.  On the contrary, he’d have plenty to do that demanded his presence.  What would become of them then?  

Even setting aside the always tricky question of survival during a war, Shepard knew there were plenty of other obstacles to their continued relationship once he left the Normandy.  She’d come to depend on him so much in the short time he’d been aboard; his presence in their quarters had turned that ridiculously luxurious space into a refuge for her.  And what of the political side of things?  While it might be acceptable for a turian general to be involved with a human, would the same hold true for the Primarch?  She doubted it.

Shepard sighed just as she heard the crunch of armored feet on gravel behind her.  Turning, she was surprised to see Garrus coming back.  He sat down next to her, looking uncomfortable.

“Shepard.  I got the feeling, earlier, that you’re not just sitting here because of Mordin.”

Shepard smiled a bit, he was getting very good at reading her.  She leaned over, knocking her armored elbow against his arm.  “Got it in one, Garrus.  You’re getting better at this.  I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

He gave her a sly smile, mandibles widening slightly.  “A lot on your mind, huh?  Let me guess.  A certain turian currently aboard the Normandy?”

She stared at him.  There was good at reading her, then there was good at reading her mind.  She and Adrien hadn’t exactly been sneaking around - they were sharing quarters after all - but neither had they been overt about it.  She didn’t think anyone had noticed; certainly Garrus was the first to say anything about it to her.

“Ummm… what?”  was her intelligent response.

Garrus laughed at her.  “Come on, Shepard.  You and Victus?  Worried about him leaving now that the krogan troops will be going to Palaven, right?”  He glanced at her face, and laughed harder.  “Spirits, Shepard, you look like you dislocated your jaw!”

She closed her mouth with a snap, glaring at him.  “How do you even know about that?  Did Adrien tell you?”

He just shook his head, still laughing.  “No, he didn’t say anything, but now I wish I’d mentioned it to him first - if this is your reaction, I’m sure his would be priceless!  I figured it out on my own, that’s all.”

Shepard sighed.  “We weren’t exactly hiding it, but we were trying to be discreet.  Have we really been that obvious?”

“Well, now, that depends,” Garrus drawled.  “I know he’s been staying in your quarters, but I don’t know how long this has been going on.”

She huffed out a breath, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the darkening sky.  “It kind of depends on how you count.  We’ve been sharing quarters since Menae.  We met three years ago.”  

Garrus was staring at her, looking shocked.  “Menae?  Three years ago?  Wow.  You were very discreet, I only found out a week ago.  Care to tell me how all this started?”

Shepard glanced at him narrowly, wondering if he was still teasing.  He looked serious, though, so she nodded.  “I’ll tell you, if you tell me how you figured it out.  Deal?”  

At his nod, Shepard launched into the story.  She told him about first meeting Adrien after a stressful meeting with the council - who dismissed her claims about the reapers, even while the Presidium was decorated with hunks of Sovereign.  How she had headed straight from that meeting to the Amada system, and her death at the hands of the Collectors.  The instant recognition when she’d run into him again before the mission to the Bahak system; the time they’d spent together.  A brief visit before she turned herself in to the Alliance.  Her surprise when he turned out to be the Primarch, the one person she was on Menae to rescue.  

Garrus listened, mandibles drooping with surprise as her story dropped into place with his memories of the last year, the previously unknown events casting things in a slightly different light in hindsight.  When she finished, he just shook his head in amazement.  

“Only you, Shepard.  It could only happen to you.”

She rolled her eyes, then demanded he make good on his promise.

Garrus cleared his throat.  “Oh, well, it’s nothing too impressive really.  I was up late working on some reports for Victus, about a week ago...

***

Garrus stretched, glancing at the time on his omni tool.  The numbers refused to focus no matter how many times he blinked, and finally he gave up.  Late; it was late.  What more did he need to know?  Gathering the data pads with his tactical assessments, he headed out of the main battery towards the elevator.  

Late or not, Victus would surely still be in the war room.  He could turn in the reports, and chase the Primarch off to bed at the same time.  Grinning slightly as he stepped off the elevator, he reflected that it was probably a good thing for the war effort that he was such a bad turian.  Ordering around superiors was definitely not something a good turian did, but having the Primarch collapse in an exhausted heap wouldn’t exactly help.

He made his way through the security checkpoint and into the war room, glancing around.  He nodded to Wrex, but didn’t spot Victus.  Frowning, he looked around again.  Had the Primarch actually stopped working voluntarily?  He turned to EDI’s console.

“EDI, where’s Primarch Victus?”  

There was a slightly longer than normal pause before she replied, “Primarch Victus is in Commander Shepard’s quarters.”

Garrus groaned aloud.  The last thing he needed was to have to convince them both to stop working and get some sleep.  It was just his luck that somehow the Primarch had discovered that Shepard never slept, either.  Muttering under his breath, Garrus retraced his steps to the elevator, pushing the button for the loft.

He was still grumbling when EDI’s voice filled the elevator.  “Commander Shepard and Primarch Victus have asked not to be disturbed, Garrus.”  He could hear Joker in the background, chuckling about something.

“EDI, I’m the Primarch’s advisor now.  He won’t mind if I interrupt a strategy meeting.”

EDI started to say something, when Joker started hushing her loudly.  The door swished open before Garrus could question her, so he just shrugged, and stepped out.  He was halfway across the short hallway before noticing that the lock on the commander’s door was glowing red.

Tapping the comm pad beside the door, he waited impatiently for an answer.  When there was none, he turned back to the elevator and EDI’s terminal.

“EDI, there’s no answer at Shepard’s door.  Would you let them know I’m here?”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that.  The Commander specifically said she wished not to be disturbed.”

“I understand they’re having a meeting, EDI, but-”

“They are not having a meeting, Garrus.”  EDI answered firmly.

He frowned at the terminal.  “What?”  Garrus sighed, it was too late for AI humor.  “EDI, tell me what is going on or I will hack that door.”

EDI’s answer was drowned out by Joker’s laughter.  Eventually, the pilot calmed down enough to tell him exactly why hacking the commander’s door would be a bad idea.  

Stunned, Garrus let the elevator carry him back to the crew deck and made his way to the battery.  Shepard… and Victus?  Could it be true, or was it another of the pilot’s elaborate jokes?  He would never have pictured the two together, but now he’d have to watch closely.     How long had this been going on?  His thoughts swirling, Garrus turned his terminal back on.  There was no way he was going to be able to sleep now.

***

Shepard was laying on her back, staring up at the night sky above them when he finished his story, laughing quietly.  

“Poor Garrus.  Completely at Joker’s mercy; he is definitely a corrupting influence on EDI, I don’t think I approve.”  She smiled over at him.  “I would have told you, if we were telling anyone.  Promise.”

Garrus just nodded; he knew that she would have.

“Anyway, that’s why I’m here, Shepard.  I figured you were worrying about Victus leaving the Normandy now that this is all handled.”  His wave took in Tuchanka and the celebrating Urdnots.  “I was thinking that, as the Primarch’s Expert Reaper Advisor, I would advise him to remain on board.  There isn’t a ship in the turian fleet that can match the Normandy’s comms or stealth drive; he’d be safer aboard, and better able to communicate with the fleet.  Plus, he’ll get real time updates on the status of the galaxy.  It would be foolish to give up those advantages.”

Shepard sat up slowly, staring at him with her mouth open.  “Garrus, that’s… brilliant!”

He gave a smug grin.  “I know.  And that’s without the whole ‘better for health and morale’ speech thrown in.”

She grinned, then hugged him tight.  “Vakarian, you are amazing.  Thank you.”

He climbed lightly to his feet, extending his hand to help her stand as well.  When she was standing, he started in the direction of the celebration.  “I know.  And you’re welcome, Shepard.  Now lets go accept everyone’s congratulations, hmm?”

Together, they walked into the brightly lit meeting ground, dodging drunk krogan on their way to where Wrex and Bakara were seated.

Chapter Text

Adrien was pacing around the center console in the war room.  It provided a convenient loop and his quick strides had carried him around it several times now.  Each time he passed the station that he had come to consider as his own, he paused and glanced at a datapad sitting there.  He read it, then tossed it back down and made another circuit.  He was glad that Wrex wasn’t here; the human crew was too intimidated by him to say anything about his unusual behavior, but the krogan clan leader would surely have made some sort of comment.

Another circuit of the room, another pause as he read words that he’d already memorized, another toss of the datapad as he started pacing again.  When the door hissed open, he stopped and looked up.  Shepard entered, alone.  She gave him a smile, and made her way around to the comm room.  Adrien took a deep breath and went back to his station.  He picked up the datapad and held it, turning it over and over in his hands.

After a brief conversation with Admiral Hackett, Shepard left the comm room and walked towards him, a small smile playing across her face.

“We did it.  We cured the genophage, Primarch.  Wrex will be sending krogan troops to Palaven immediately.”

He nodded, his eyes steady on hers.  He could hear the sadness underlying her words; he’d read Vakarian’s initial report, he knew about Mordin’s death and he longed to comfort her.  But not here, not now.  Here and now, he needed to know what she thought about the contents of that data pad.

“You kept your end of the bargain, and now I’ll keep mine.  The turian hierarchy will stand with humanity against the reapers.”  He offered his hand to her; when she accepted the handshake with a wry grin, he let his fingers curl around hers and held her hand a moment longer than necessary.  “I was hoping you’d give me your opinion on a recommendation I’ve received.”  He waited for her nod, then handed her the datapad.  Turning back to his station, he stared blindly at the information displayed there.

Shepard read through the report he handed her, slightly surprised to see that Garrus had sent the Primarch the same suggestion he’d offered her a few hours ago.  She grinned.  Garrus always had her six.

“It’s a sound tactical recommendation, Primarch.  We’d be happy to have you continue on the Normandy, if you agree.”  Her tone was deliberately bland; if he wanted to bring this up in the war room, where they were trying to maintain a professional demeanor, he deserved what he got.

“I was hoping you had a bit more of an opinion, actually.”  He tried to match her tone, but his agitation was clear.

She raised an eyebrow at him.  “Did you?  This seems like a very thorough evaluation of your options and resources, sir.  I’m not sure I can add anything to this.”  She handed the datapad back, fighting hard to keep a teasing smile off her face.

He was growling with his subvocal tones, just barely at the edge of her hearing.  “I thought perhaps you would have an opinion that went… above and beyond a strictly tactical assessment.”

Shepard pretended to consider it, biting her bottom lip and casting her eyes upwards, one finger tapping her chin.  “Well...I suppose… you might want to consider the political ramifications.  You might want to see what Councilor Sparatus thinks before making a decision.”

She was slightly surprised when his hands landed on her shoulders and held her firmly in place while he stepped close to her.  He towered over her, tipping his head down to meet her eyes.  Apparently, he was only willing to let her get away with teasing him for so long.  His voice was nearly masked by the annoyed growl in his subvocals.  “Not.  What.  I.  Meant.”

Shepard met him glare for glare for another moment, before giving in and smiling.  She reached up, sliding her arms between them until she could reach his face.  Her fingers brushed lightly over his colony markings before her hands settled on either side of his face, her palms pressing lightly against his mandibles.  “Of course I want you to stay.  I’m disappointed that you felt you needed to ask.”

He let out a relieved sigh, and bent forward to rest his forehead against hers.  “I didn’t want to just assume.  I do have a few things to take care of still, but you must be exhausted, Kel.  Go get some rest, and I’ll see you in a bit.”

She smiled, leaning into his touch before nodding reluctantly.  “I’ll get some rest, if you promise you won’t stay down here long.”

Adrien nodded, sliding his arms around her in a brief hug before releasing her and stepping away, watching as she made her way out of the war room.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Kel came awake with a gasp that held more than half a yell in it.  Sitting straight up in the chair she’d apparently fallen asleep in, she blinked at the fish tank a few times before collapsing back with a sigh.  

Just a dream.  The same dream she’d had since Earth, but still just a dream.  She leaned back, resting her head against the back of the chair as she stared up at the ceiling, willing herself to relax.  She took several long, slow breaths, and as her heart rate slowed she realised she was still clutching a datapad.  She glanced at it; it was the supplies report she’d been reviewing after coming to her quarters, it wasn’t surprising that the information had bored her to sleep.

She stretched, tossing the datapad toward the sofa without looking.  It landed with a muffled thud which was quickly followed by a distinctly unmuffled turian curse.  She jumped, and looked at the sofa.  Adrien was lying stretched out on the long side, his head resting on the arm of the sofa, glowering at her as he picked up the datapad which had hit him before falling to the floor.

Kel smiled apologetically.  “Sorry about that, I didn’t realize you were there.  Isn’t the bed more comfortable?”

He stood, and indulged in a slow stretch.  Kel smiled as she watched him appreciatively, her eyes sweeping up his form.  She loved the long, lean lines of his body; the graceful way he moved.  When her gaze reached his face, she caught him watching her, and smirked at his posing.

He stepped over to her, and offered his hand to help her up.  “The bed is more comfortable, but you weren’t in it.  Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”  He nodded in the direction of the chair she’d fallen asleep in.

Kel shrugged, and looked away from him.  “It’s nothing.”  She tugged lightly, trying to free her hand.  “Just a bad dream.”

When Adrien didn’t release her hand, she looked up, and caught him watching her narrowly.  “It didn’t sound like nothing.”  

He pulled her towards him, until they were touching as they stood there, and brought his left hand to her face.  He cupped his palm around her jaw, his fingers sliding into her hair and his thumb stroking over her cheek as he gently urged her face up to meet his gaze.  When their gazes had locked, he released her and brought his right hand up to her face as well.  

His thumbs moved in a soothing pattern over her cheeks; he must have been taking notes, it was exactly the way she touched him.  Kel sighed, and leaned into his touch, relaxing slightly until he spoke again.

“Tell me.”  Just the two words, but it was clearly a command.

She bit her bottom lip, trying to figure out how to tell him about the dream.  She couldn’t really decide the best way to describe everything to him, and so stood there silently for several long minutes.  Finally, she took a deep breath, and just started talking, not caring if her words made sense or not.

Adrien stood still, only his fingers moving across her face, and listened to the disjointed description Kel gave of the nightmare that had been plaguing her since she left Earth.  He listened, but most of his attention was on watching her; the words weren’t as important as her reactions and he watched her with the appraising eye of a trained warrior.  He knew she wasn’t aware of the tears that tracked down her cheeks when she spoke of the child she’d seen boarding a shuttle seconds before it was shot down by a reaper.  His fingers traced over her cheeks, wiping the tears away.

When she fell silent, he didn’t say anything.  There were no guarantees of her blamelessness that she didn’t already know; there were no comforting platitudes that would actually help.  Finally, after the silence had stretched long enough that she was starting to fidget, he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers.

“I’m always here when you want to talk, Kel.”

It wasn’t anything they hadn’t said to each other before; she knew he would listen to her fears just as she would listen to his.  But somehow in that moment, with his hands gentle on her face and the reassuring pressure of his forehead against hers, it was exactly what she needed to hear.  She managed to find a smile as she straightened up.

“Thank you, Adrien.”  

He smiled, and stepped back, giving her the space he knew she’d need.  As his hands fell away from her face, she reached up, brushing at the few lingering tears.

“Always.  Will you try to sleep again?”

She shook her head.  “No, I won’t be able to, now.  I’ll take a quick shower, and see what needs doing.  You should sleep, though, the sofa can’t have been comfortable.”  She reached up to give him a light kiss, her hand stroking the side of his neck for just a minute before she moved past him towards the bathroom.

“The sofa was fine, I hadn’t meant to fall asleep.  I was just creating new orders and assignments for the fleets headed to Earth, and those staying at Palaven to assist with the evacuation; seeing if there were any other resources we could offer to the crucible project.  That will keep me busy for a time.”  He settled back onto the sofa and collected his data pad.  

He’d been working for quite awhile, and steam was starting to sneak slowly into the room when the water finally shut off.  A few minutes later, the door chime sounded, and Kel called out, “It’s open!”

It wasn’t, actually, he’d locked it earlier when he found her asleep in the chair.  It only took a second for him to unlock the door and let it slide open, which was when he realised that whoever was coming to speak to Shepard would be surprised to find him.  

Liara walked into the room, glancing around for Shepard.  She was already speaking.  “Shepard, there’s something you need to hear.”  Her eyes swept over Victus, widened, and came back to rest on him.  She suddenly looked nervous, her voice hesitant as she asked, “Is this a bad time?”  

“No, Liara, it’s fine.”  Shepard spoke as she left the bathroom, dressed in her usual shipboard uniform, her hair still damp from her shower.  

Liara glanced back and forth between Shepard and Victus, clearly uncertain of the situation.  “If I’m interrupting a meeting, I could come back…” her voice trailed off as she reconsidered.  “If I’m interrupting anything, I could come back.”

Shepard smirked at her friend.  “Oh no.  I’m not going to become the latest bit of gossip on your terminal, Liara.  Never you mind.  Did you have something for me?”

Liara cast one more glance over at Victus, this one amused, before answering.  “The salarian councilor has an urgent matter.”

“Let me guess: she called the comm room?”  At Liara’s nod, Shepard started towards the door.  “Alright, let’s go find out what’s going on.”

Liara glanced back at Victus once, her surprise changing to a calculating look, before she followed Shepard from the room.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Adrien watched the door close, and sighed with relief.  He definitely needed a few moments alone with his thoughts.

He marveled at Kel’s trust in him; she’d shown him her heart, and she’d done it so easily, so naturally.  She, who never let anyone else see beyond the calm, easy confidence of Commander Shepard.  

He couldn’t point out exactly when she had become his anchor, the one thing he knew he would always be able to count on, but she had.  She could have her pick of friends or mates, but she had chosen him, accepted him, wanted him.  He knew that she would put his interests before her own, and that he would do the same for her.  

How did she know him so well?  How did she trust him so much?  

How had she become everything to him?

This wasn’t how it was supposed to work; she was his mate in everything but name, and he didn’t know when it had happened.  And what would he do about it now?  It seemed hugely anticlimactic to ask her to be his mate; the question would almost be an insult after all they had built between them.  He doubted human females were any different than females of other species, though: she would expect to be asked.  And if he were honest with himself, he wanted the words to be spoken, the promises made between them; he wanted that claim on her, the public acknowledgement that she was his.  

He wasn’t sure this was a good time, though.  Maybe after the reapers had been defeated.  He didn’t want her to question his feelings or his motivations; didn’t want her to feel pressured to make promises to him that she wouldn’t feel like she could keep later.  This matter required all the delicacy of the politics he despised, there were plenty of legitimate concerns that would necessarily attend any formal union between them.  It was better to wait, wasn’t it?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Shepard was quiet in the elevator.  She wasn’t trying to avoid Liara’s questioning looks, but her attention was all turned inward.  Adrien had been so wonderful; telling him about that stupid dream had made her feel better.  It didn’t matter if the words hadn’t made sense, he knew what it meant to her, and he’d said exactly what she needed to hear.  He hadn’t judged her, hadn’t seen it as a failure or a weakness, and he hadn’t offered empty platitudes.

She smiled to herself as she remembered his hands on her face.  He must have been taking notes, it was almost exactly how she touched him (allowing for physical differences), right down to the light sweep of his thumbs across her cheeks.

Her thoughts jerked to a halt.  Exactly how she touched him… his thumbs tracing light patterns across her cheeks… She tried to think back.  Had he really…?  He had.  She bit her bottom lip, trying to keep her expression neutral.  

He’d been tracing his fingers over her face in the pattern of his own colony markings.

She wondered what it meant, or if it meant anything at all.  She needed to ask someone she could trust.  Garrus would just tease her about it, but he was the only other turian she knew well.  

Liara cleared her throat pointedly, and Shepard looked over at her to find her friend watching her with an exasperated expression.  Shepard’s eyes widened, and she smiled.  Time to put the Shadow Broker’s infinite knowledge to the test.

Chapter Text

Today had been… surreal.  That was the best word he could come up with.  Cerberus attacking the Citadel, Udina a traitor, Shepard showing up to the rescue at the last minute?  Surreal didn’t really cover it, but there probably wasn’t a word that would.

And now, Kaidan was back on the Normandy.  It was a relief, but strangely uncomfortable at the same time.  The ship was bigger than the old Normandy, with extra little luxuries that just seemed wrong on a military ship.  Shepard had given him a tour before going off to report to Admiral Hackett; somehow he’d ended up in the lounge, staring out the view port.  He wanted to go say hello to old friends, but for now he just needed a few moments alone.

It wasn’t every day you ended up holding a gun on the person you loved.  It wasn’t every day the person you loved held a gun on you, either.  He still wasn’t sure if he would have taken the shot.  He was less uncertain about whether she would have taken the shot; no matter what she said about trusting him, if it had come down to it he didn’t believe that she would have risked the lives of the councilors just to avoid shooting him.  Fortunately, he had managed to trust her one more time.  As much as he hated having to shoot Udina, he was relieved that at least his trust in her hadn’t been misplaced.

It killed him to doubt her; he’d sincerely meant his promise earlier, that it would never happen again.  He’d spent too long being suspicious of her involvement with Cerberus, too long ignoring logic and his own heart.  No more.  From now on, he was with her completely.

Hopefully, she would be with him, too.  He had been slightly disappointed to find Liara already ensconced in the large cabin near the mess.  No matter what Shepard had told him back on the SR-1 about being unwilling to break the fraternization regs, he had been more than half convinced that it was really Liara’s presence that kept Shepard and himself apart.  

Oh, not that he thought Shepard was at all attracted to the asari scientist; no, he thought she’d only cited the regs as a graceful way of avoiding the appearance of making a choice between them.  He’d seen how naive and earnest Liara was, it had to have been difficult for Shepard to hurt her feelings by turning her down; how much more hurt would she have been if Shepard immediately took up with someone else?

No, he was confident that Shepard had cared for him, and only the care she took with the feelings of her team had prevented her from acting on her feelings.  Now, Liara seemed much more confident.  Now, perhaps he could make up for his distrust, and his behavior on Horizon.

He did feel bad about his reaction on Horizon.  After Anderson told him about the rumors that Shepard was alive and with Cerberus, Kaidan had spent countless hours imagining what their reunion would be like.  

He could still picture the way it should have gone: Shepard was strong but filled with remorse for having worked with Cerberus; Kaidan was loyal to the Alliance, but willing to forgive her.  Perhaps she had even been working with Cerberus under duress; her relief at seeing him would be increased by the knowledge that he could save her from their vile clutches.  

He could also still picture the way it had gone, unfortunately.  Shepard, tired but triumphant at defeating the collectors that had attacked her; her slightly awkward greeting to him, followed by an attempt to rationalize her behavior.  It had been obvious that she’d somehow corrupted Garrus into working with Cerberus too, and when he hadn’t fallen right in line, she’d stood by and let Garrus yell at him.  Like he didn’t even matter!  Like he didn’t deserve her trust; like his judgement couldn’t possibly be clearer than hers.

He did feel bad about the letter he’d sent her afterwards.  That had been dumb.  He’d been hoping that if he gave her a second chance, she’d be grateful.  He’d thrown in the part about dating in the hopes that she’d be jealous enough to fight for him.  But she hadn’t even answered.

The sting of being ignored had been what fueled his comments on Mars.  Even when Vega tried to point out the illogic of his accusations, he had ignored it in favor of sniping at her.  He’d tried to get a little of his own back, while at the same time hoping to provoke her into revealing how she felt about him.  He was sure it had been working, too, but then he’d gone and gotten attacked by a damn Cerberus mech, ruining any chance of an immediate declaration.  

He’d been a little disappointed when she came to visit him in the hospital; her behavior had been friendly but slightly distant.  He chalked it up to the semi-public setting.  When she’d suggested that he accept the spectre position that Udina offered, he’d been hurt until he realized that it was just Shepard putting his career and best interests in front of her own desires.  She really was amazingly thoughtful.

He was pleased to be a spectre, honored to be following in her footsteps.  The first and second human spectres.  What a team they’d make.  

He was even more pleased that she’d accepted him back on board the Normandy.  He’d been somewhat nervous about asking, actually, considering everything that had happened between them.  But Shepard had been kind and patient.  She’d reassured him about his choice to shoot Udina, and welcomed him back to the Normandy.  She’d even taken the time to give him a tour herself, instead of delegating that task or leaving him to his own devices.

The mess hall and med bay were certainly larger and better equipped than on the old Normandy; the main battery had been equally impressive.  He had been surprised to find Garrus working on the guns; he’d been more surprised at the easy banter between the turian and Shepard.  They must have grown close during the collector mission, he realized with a twinge of jealousy.  

He was glad the ship was so large.  There was a lot to see, and more to ask about.  He’d taken the opportunity to touch Shepard’s elbow with each question; he politely allowed her to precede him through each door, and let his hand rest lightly on her lower back as she passed him.  

The war room was extremely impressive.  He was planning on going back to explore it further, actually; as soon as they’d entered, Shepard had introduced him to the turian Primarch, who had studied him with a narrow gaze and complete silence.  Something about the Primarch unsettled him, and he had hurried ahead to the comm room, waiting there and pretending to examine the systems for several minutes before Shepard joined him.  He was just as glad that Shepard had dealt with the incredibly intimidating turian.

He was impressed with the ship, despite the obvious changes.  He hadn’t been nearly as curious as he’d acted, however; the questions had been to keep her talking and extend their time together.  He had hoped that she would show him her quarters, as well, but she hadn’t.  Liara was in the room that had been the Commander’s back on the original Normandy, so he assumed that Shepard had quarters elsewhere.  He didn’t think she’d appreciate him asking right away, so he hadn’t.  Now he’d have to find another way to bring it up.  

Kaidan settled back in the surprisingly comfortable chair that afforded an excellent view out the observation window.  He glanced at the time on his omni tool.  It had been over an hour since she had gone to speak with Hackett over the vid comm.  He had been expecting her to search him out as soon as she was finished, but surely she couldn’t be spending all this time talking to Hackett.  Perhaps she assumed he would be finding all their old shipmates, and was giving him time to catch up.  

He stood, deciding to go ahead and do that.  Maybe he’d start with Joker; he was certain he could get the pilot to tell him where the Commander’s cabin was.  Besides, Joker had always been willing to listen before when Kaidan wanted to talk about his feelings for Shepard; Joker had always urged him to tell her how he felt, to act on his feelings.  He knew that Joker would be pleased to hear that he intended to finally take that advice.

Chapter Text

Kaidan was relieved that the few crew members in CIC didn’t do anything more than nod politely to him as he made his way to the cockpit.  He wasn’t really feeling like going through the motions with new people right now; he was too eager to talk to Joker.

As he drew nearer to the cockpit, he could hear voices.   

“So, Commander… Kaidan’s back.”  That was Joker, trying to sound nonchalant until he knew whether a wisecrack would be welcome.  Kaidan slowed down and held his breath, listening.

Shepard’s voice, deliberately neutral.  “Yep.  He’ll be a good addition to the team.”  Well, that was disappointing.  Maybe she just didn’t want to start gossip.

“And he even remembered the first rule of serving on the Normandy: Don’t shoot the commander!”  Joker’s humor was unleashed now, and Kaidan winced.

“Go easy on Kaidan, he’s been through a lot.”  At least she was defending him.

“Yeah, like drawing a gun on a superior officer, nearly getting the Council killed.  It’s almost like he… oh, I don’t know… betrayed the Alliance, betrayed you, and suddenly we don’t know him anymore.”  Kaidan was surprised at the sharp tone under Joker’s wisecracks.

“Now now, Joker, be nice.”  Damn, she sounded amused.  “Really, if I’m over Horizon, you should totally be over it by now.”

“I’m sorry, Commander, I just can’t forgive him that easily.  I mean, he didn’t even bother to listen to you.  And if he thought that about you - when you didn’t even have a choice! - what does he think about me and Chakwas?  We came on purpose to help you.  And what about Garrus and Tali?  They came along just for you, too.  He basically called us all idiots.”

Kaidan stared blankly towards the cockpit.  He hadn’t thought of that.  He’d known that Joker and Karin had left the Alliance, but it hadn’t connected that they’d joined Cerberus to be near Shepard.  As for Garrus and Tali, he’d just assumed that they had followed Shepard blindly, simply because she was Shepard.  He sighed.  He really had thought he was so much smarter than his friends; he’d thought he was the only one seeing clearly, the only one not being suckered into a terrorist organization by a too-good-to-be-true hoax.  He’d have to make it up to them somehow.

Shepard was talking again, but Kaidan had lost interest in eavesdropping.  Deliberately scuffing his feet against the deck, he walked the rest of the way into the cockpit.  By the time he reached them, Joker was turned around to watch him coming, Shepard had turned to give herself a view of both Joker and the walkway, and they’d both fallen silent.

“Hey, uhh… just thought I’d come say hi.”  Kaidan ran a hand over his hair nervously.

“That’s a great idea.  I was just talking over our course with Joker; we’re headed out to the Flotilla, but we’ll be making several stops along the way.  General recon and retrieval in reaper occupied space, a few missions for Hackett to help the N7 teams, a couple things Taylor’s picked up that could use our attention.”  Shepard shrugged slightly.  “It will give you a chance to ease back into things around here, and it’ll be the closest thing to downtime we get for awhile.  I’ve got some things to take care of; you boys play nice.”  This last comment was accompanied by a thunk  as she bumped Joker’s chair.  He scowled at her.

Shepard gave them both a bright smile as she left; Kaidan returned it automatically, but his answering smile faded when he turned back to Joker.

“Hey, Joker.  I really just wanted to say that I’m sorry I was an idiot.  I’ve apologized to Shepard for not trusting her, but I wanted to apologize to you too.  I should have known I wasn’t the only one seeing clearly.  Are we good?”

Joker stared at him for a minute, then shrugged and offered a half smile.  “Well, I guess.  It’s over anyway, and we did get to blow up the Collectors.  And, hey!  I have my baby back, and she’s better than ever, don’t you think?”

Kaidan grinned.  “Yep, she certainly is something.  So, want to tell me the news around here?”

Joker pointed over at the copilot’s chair.  “Well, here’s my favorite bit of news.  Have you met EDI?”

Kaidan looked over, and nearly jumped out of his skin.  He did yell, hand reaching for a weapon he wasn’t wearing.  “What the hell, Joker?!?  What is that thing doing on the Normandy?  Are you out of your mind?”  Kaidan’s eyes moved swiftly around the cockpit, trying to figure out how he could get himself and the pilot to safety before the mech attacked again.  He couldn’t just haul Joker around without breaking something, but wasn’t a broken rib or two worth being safe…?  Joker’s laughter finally registered.

Joker could barely contain himself, he certainly couldn’t stop laughing long enough to speak.  EDI turned and looked at Kaidan, speaking soothingly.

“I apologize for the surprise, Major Alenko.  I am EDI, the Normandy’s AI.  When this platform was brought back from Mars, I assisted Dr. T’soni with retrieving the information stored on it.  During that time, I was able to repurpose the platform for my own use.  I assure you, it is perfectly safe.”

Kaidan stared at the mech, trying to slow his heart rate and make his brain start working again.  Joker finally subsided with a few final chuckles.  “Alright, Alenko, now we’re good.”

“Really, Jeff.  You scared Major Alenko on purpose?  I thought Commander Shepard told you to be nice.”  She stood, and left the bridge.

“Hey, EDI, it was just a joke!  EDI?  Aww, man…” he glowered at Kaidan.  “Now look what you did!”

Kaidan moved across the cockpit and sat gingerly in the copilot’s seat.  Joker looked at him, and muttered  “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s alright, Joker.  So tell me, how’ve you been?”

It didn’t take long for the pilot to warm back up to him, which was a relief.  Kaidan relaxed into the copilot’s chair, listening to Joker’s stories about the last mission and the team Shepard had picked up.  It sounded like quite a bunch, and he doubted Joker would run out of anecdotes anytime soon.

At the earliest break in the conversation, he asked about Shepard’s interaction with the crew.  He was trying to be subtle, but Joker shot him a look.

“Are you still… interested… in the commander, Alenko?”  Joker’s sharp gaze made Kaidan want to squirm, but he answered evenly.

“Yeah.  Yeah, I am.  And this time, I plan to do something about it, too.  No more mooning around.  I’m going to tell her how I feel, and I’m not going to let the regs stand in our way.”  He was smiling by the time he finished, feeling all the confidence of determination.  He glanced over at Joker, who was suddenly very interested in his console.  “Unless she’s found someone…” his voice trailed off, and he tried not to look too discouraged.

“She is involved with someone.  I’m, uh, not sure how serious it is, but… yeah.”  Joker seemed uncomfortable; at least he wasn’t making a joke out of it this time.

Kaidan tried to keep his voice level.  “Since when?”

Joker shifted around in his chair; he really didn’t want to discuss the Commander’s love life.  Not like this, and not with Kaidan.  “Well, I don’t know everything, but I think it got serious right after we destroyed the Collector base.  Before Bahak, anyway.”  Joker adjusted his cap nervously, wondering how much he could say without getting killed.  “We stopped at the Citadel before Shepard turned herself in.  Let all the team off, most of the crew left.  Former Cerberus personnel weren’t likely to get a good reaction at Alliance HQ.”  Joker winced at offering useless information; his mouth tended to run away with him when he was nervous.  “Anyway, Shepard waited until everyone left, then disappeared for a few hours.  Came back looking really upset.  I figured she was saying good bye to someone in private, you know?”

Kaidan took this in silently, then nodded and stood.  “Thanks, Joker.  I appreciate it.  See you around.”

He made his way back to the observation lounge, and found himself a stiff drink.  Pulling up his omni tool interface, he searched through all the reports the Alliance had on the Normandy’s Cerberus crew; as an afterthought, he also pulled the reports on the members of Shepard’s ground team.  He really wanted to figure out who Shepard had been involved with, before he decided on his next move.

Chapter Text

Kaidan was pleased to be going on a mission the next day.  He hadn’t really narrowed down the possibilities much, and staring at files and pictures of the Cerberus crew had been driving him crazy.  It was a relief when Shepard ordered him and Garrus to the shuttle.

“Alright, here’s what we’ve got.  Traynor found some scientists who need help.  Unfortunately, it sounds like Cerberus found them too.  We’ll get in, clear the area, and get the scientists out safely.  Watch yourselves.  These people aren’t soldiers, and they’re likely to be pretty jumpy.  Lets do this with no collateral damage, got it?”  When she got two nods in return, Shepard checked the monitor.  They were almost there.

As the shuttle touched down, they could see Cerberus forces ahead of them, heavily armed and armored, and far more numerous than a few scientists should have warranted; beyond those, they could see some poorly armed civilians firing back at the soldiers.  Shepard’s team moved in, quickly dispatching the Cerberus intruders from behind.  

Kaidan was biting his tongue on several comments about Cerberus retirement packages when Shepard called one of the defenders by name, and hurried over to him.  Kaidan’s eyes narrowed.  They obviously knew one another.  As she helped the wounded man to his feet and into the scientist’s base, Kaidan watched.  This man was clearly a soldier, not a scientist.  He listened distractedly, but caught enough to realize that the soldier - Jacob Taylor - was protecting the scientists.  And that he’d fought with Shepard against the Collectors.

The more he listened to the easy banter between Shepard and Taylor, the more convinced he was that he’d figured out who Shepard was involved with.  He glowered at their easy conversation, and the rest of the mission passed in a blur as he fumed.

Until the last shuttle was ready to go, Dr. Cole and Taylor were aboard, and they were just waiting for Shepard.  They all stared, aghast, as an army of Cerberus troops poured out of the base.  All these soldiers, just to retrieve some scientists?  Cerberus had no notion of scale.

And then Shepard was down, and Dr. Cole was leaping out of the shuttle to help Shepard to her feet.  Kaidan felt his mouth twisting into a sneer as Taylor jumped out of the shuttle to cover Shepard as the scientist helped her aboard.

Kaidan fought to smooth his expression, fighting the urge to smack the self satisfied smile from Taylor's face.

“Out by the skin of our teeth again, eh, Shepard?”  He asked casually, swinging his gun up and into place over his shoulder.

“Nice to see you back in action.”  Shepard was smirking, and Kaidan rolled his eyes.  They really ought to flirt on their own time, not now.  He nearly made a snide comment about the fraternization regs; but decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to remind Shepard about those.

Kaidan settled back into his seat, watching Taylor.  So this was his competition.  He could see the attraction, the man had a body that probably had women throwing themselves at him on a regular basis.  But seriously, he didn’t seem to have any personality at all.  Had Shepard really replaced him with this guy?  

Kaidan was relieved when Taylor turned down Shepard’s invitation to rejoin the Normandy.  He was telling Shepard that the scientists would head out to the crucible, and he would be going to the Citadel for supplies.  When Shepard immediately offered Taylor a ride, Kaidan scowled.  The scowl stayed in place all the way back to the Normandy.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Back on the Normandy, Kaidan changed and got cleaned up, stopped in the medbay to talk to Dr. Chakwas (at least she was glad to see him), and headed back to the observation lounge.  It was quickly turning into his favorite place on the ship.  He had no real duties and knew few people on board, he preferred to sit and brood.

By the time Shepard walked in, he was on his second drink.  She smiled and moved to lean against the observation port so she could face him while they talked.  

Kaidan asked her about the Cerberus soldier, and she replied with some innocent remark about how helpful he’d been on the mission to take down the collectors.  He tried asking her about her opinion of the man and got another impersonal answer, this one focusing on Jacob’s leadership abilities; she praised him for his skill in leading a team on the collector base, and gave him a lot of credit for getting his team out safely.

Shepard straightened before he could push the topic again, saying she’d enjoyed talking to him, but that she should go.  She was past him and out the door before he could stop her.

Kaidan glared out at the stars.  She was probably eager to get back to her boyfriend.  The thought of Shepard with that Cerberus goon had him seeing red.  

Kaidan took several deep breaths.  He wasn’t giving up without a fight.  They were headed back to the Citadel, that would make things easier.

Calling up his omni tool, he sent Shepard a message, asking her to join him for lunch on the Citadel.  He wasn’t going to let her go without a fight.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Kel let the door to her quarters close behind her with a sigh.  Adrien stood up when she entered, and she walked over to him and into his arms.  He’d taken to doing a lot of his work up here, lately, and she heartily approved.  

She knew this was just the calm before the storm, but she was going to make the most of it.  Straightforward missions, long jumps between systems, plenty of down time.  She’d barely left their quarters, except for missions and the odd meal.  Even meals were barely enough to drag her out, not when Adrien was more than happy to collect two meals and bring them to their room.  

They’d decided that discretion about their relationship was still a good idea, but they were both a little more relaxed about it; after all Garrus, Joker, and Liara already knew so there was very little point in trying to keep it a secret.  She didn’t exactly think they needed to be obvious about it either, though; they were still maintaining a professional demeanor onboard the ship.

Kel smiled at Adrien as he led her back to the sofa.  He picked up the datapad he’d been reading when she came in, and she curled up next to him, leaning against his shoulder and letting her eyes drift shut.

She’d had her chat with Liara, and it was getting harder and harder not to bring it up when they were alone.  He hadn’t said anything, though, so she remained silent.  She was well aware that there were some pretty large obstacles standing between them and a future, let alone a future that held a happily-ever-after.  Kel was determined to enjoy this time, and let the future figure itself out.

She was just drifting into a light doze when her omni tool beeped at her with a new message.

Chapter Text

Shepard read the short message, and groaned.  Adrien looked over, head tipped curiously to one side.  “What is it?”

She waved a hand dismissively, scowling at the message.  “Oh, nothing important.”  There was silence, and she looked up.  When her eyes met his, she sighed quietly.  “I’m sorry, Adrien.  It’s nothing bad, just… awkward.”  She moved her arm so he could read the short message there.  He did so, and looked back at her, waiting.

“Alenko served on the first Normandy, too.  He… well… he hoped for a different relationship than what we had.”  She winced.  “I don’t know how he got the idea - I always treated him exactly the same way I treated everyone else.  Anyway, he finally pushed the issue, and was very hurt when I turned him down.  I think he might have held onto that idea, though, by the way he acted on Horizon.”

Adrien’s gaze was steady and piercing.  “And why did you allow him to rejoin the Normandy?”

Kel blinked in surprise.  “Because we need all the people we can get.  Especially good soldiers, and he is that.”

He nodded.  “I see.  But you made it clear that you weren’t interested in him when you agreed to let him serve on this ship?”

“Well, no.  I thought it would be better not to bring it up at all.  This isn’t the first time I’ve been in this position.  Kaidan’s a little bit more… persistent… about it than anyone else has been, that’s all.  Ignoring the issue and declining advances always seems to let things work themselves out eventually.”

Adrien’s eyes narrowed.  “And so you will not be joining him for lunch.”  It was a statement, and her eyebrows rose at the note of command in his voice.

“I was planning on going, actually.  I would if anyone else asked, and I don’t want to hurt his feelings by acting differently around him.”

“If anyone else asked, they would be assuming it was a friendly lunch.  When he asks, he is assuming something more.  It is not the same situation.”  Kel opened her mouth to object, but Adrien kept talking.  “You will hurt him more with this plan of ignoring his feelings than you would if you addressed them head on, and made your thoughts clear.”

She looked at him consideringly.  “Do you really think so?  I was trying so hard to keep things from being awkward between us; I thought if I showed him that I treated him the same way as others I was friends with, he would accept that.  I never showed him any special favor, or spent any extra time with him.  I certainly didn’t do anything for him that I didn’t do for everyone else on my crew.”

He shook his head.  “It won’t have mattered.  Your behavior was the same, but his perception of it was different.”

Kel bit her bottom lip and fell silent as she considered this.  “I can see what you mean, Adrien.  Alright, I’ll tell him no.  And I’ll tell him why.”  She pulled up the message on her omnitool, then shut it down again with a groan.  “And I really ought to do that in person.  Alright?”

She was looking to him for his opinion, and despite the subject matter, he was amused that she was so clearly at a loss.  “Yes, of course.  I’m amazed that the great charismatic Commander Shepard is so bad at personal relationships.”  His mandibles flared in a grin.

“Oh, fine, laugh at me will you?  Well, if I’m bad at relationships, and here you are, what does that make you?”

His grin turned into a smirk.  “Good enough to make up for your deficiencies, of course.”

Kel glared, and elbowed him in the side.  She would have followed the move up with another, but he grabbed her arms and stood, pulling her to her feet as well.  “Now now, we can play later.  You have some business to attend to.”  

She pulled free and stalked towards the door, muttering curses under her breath.  He wasn’t close enough to catch them, but he was sure they weren’t flattering.  

Adrien followed her to the door, and before she could open it, he caught her arm, turning her and pulling her into an embrace.  She stood stiffly, refusing to forgive his teasing so easily, but he ignored her resistance.  Settling one arm around her waist, he brought his other hand up to thread through her hair.  Her eyes remained stubbornly narrowed as she glared at him.  He leaned down, brushing his cheek against hers before running his tongue lightly along the line of her jaw.  She took a deep breath but remained still.  Adrien gave a low chuckle and traced the column of her throat before giving her a sharp nip just above her shoulder.  

That earned him a quiet moan, and suddenly she wasn’t feeling so stubborn anymore.  Leaning against him, Kel brought her arms around his neck and returned his attentions.

After several minutes, Adrien pulled away.  “Just wanted to be sure you’d come back.”  He gave her the cockiest grin she’d ever seen, and opened the door for her.  “Don’t take too long.”  Before she could stop him, he’d turned and walked away, settling himself back on the sofa.  He laughed at her annoyed huff, but didn’t say anything else, and a minute later he heard her leave the room and the door swept shut behind her.

When his omnitool beeped, he glanced casually at the message.

You will pay for that. ~K.S.

Adrien grinned, and sent back a reply.

Promises, promises.  ~A.V.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

When the elevator stopped on the crew deck, Shepard walked out and into the mess area.  She wasn’t exactly sure where to find Kaidan, actually; and since she was slightly nervous about the upcoming conversation, the idea of looking for him herself was preferable to simply asking EDI for the information.  The mess was a reasonable place to start.

He wasn’t there, though, and she was just about to head over to Liara’s office when the medbay door opened, and Dr. Chakwas called her over.  Telling herself that she couldn’t afford to ignore a request from Dr. Chakwas, Shepard hurried over to medbay.  She completely ignored the feeling of relief as the door closed behind her; the tiny twinge of guilt at avoiding an unpleasant conversation was even easier to ignore.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

If an omnitool could look annoyed, Kaidan was sure his would.  He’d checked it every few minutes (and sometimes more often than that) ever since sending that message to Shepard.  Now, fifteen minutes after he’d sent it, there was still no answer.  Maybe she hadn’t gotten it?  Maybe she was insulted by receiving an invitation via omnitool?  

Maybe she was busy with Jacob Taylor.

He was making himself crazy sitting here wondering about it.  Better to just go on up to her quarters and interrupt - no, invite - her in person.  Much more polite, and if he just happened to interrupt something, so much the better.  His mind made up, Kaidan walked over to the elevator.

For once, it was actually on the same floor he was, the doors swished open immediately.  Kaidan stepped inside and pushed the button for the loft, glad that he’d talked the engineers into telling him about the Commander’s quarters.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

When the elevator deposited him on the loft deck, Kaidan was relieved to see that the indicator on Shepard’s door glowed green.  He’d been slightly nervous about that, the more he considered the possibility of interrupting her and Taylor.  The unlocked door made things much simpler, so he was smiling as he crossed the hall and tapped the control for the door.

The door slid open, and Kaidan was momentarily distracted by the room it revealed.  Large, brightly lit, and it had a huge aquarium.  As he watched the fish swimming lazily in the bubbling water, Kaidan mentally sneered at Cerberus.  But then, he thought about laying in Shepard’s bed, watching the fish together as the soft blue light played over her pale skin, and decided that perhaps an aquarium wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

There was a low, pointed throat clearing from the lower portion of the room, and Kaidan jerked his attention away from the fish.  That definitely wasn’t Shepard’s voice.  His eyes widened when he saw the turian Primarch sitting on the sofa, a datapad balanced on one knee; a glass of some light blue colored drink in his hand.  He glanced around the room; no Shepard.

Kaidan opened his mouth, paused, and closed it.  He wasn’t sure what was going on, and the turian was regarding him closely.  He pulled his thoughts together and tried again.  

“Uh, excuse me, Primarch.  I had been told these were Shepard’s quarters.  I must have misunderstood.  So sorry to disturb you.”  He was backing towards the door, planning various forms of pain and murder for the two engineers who had sent him up here, when the Primarch stood up.

Kaidan froze; he was instantly reminded of the first word in any description of turians.  Predator.

The Primarch stood slowly, set the datapad and his drink on the table, and moved forward deliberately.  He walked slowly up the steps, and moved to lean against the wall near the aquarium.  Once there, he folded his arms across his chest.  He never took his eyes off Kaidan’s.  When the human male had started to fidget under his scrutiny, Victus shrugged slightly.

“These are Commander Shepard’s quarters.  She had to leave for a few minutes.  You’re Major Alenko?”

Kaidan was unsettled by the turian’s unblinking stare; he wasn’t sure what to make of this new information, so he settled for answering the Primarch’s question.  “Yes sir, Major Kaidan Alenko.”  He looked around again.  “I didn’t mean to...disturb you.  Did you say Shepard would be back soon?”  He still wasn’t sure what to make of finding this intimidating turian alone in Shepard’s private quarters.

Victus smiled; he made sure the gesture revealed his teeth, making it more unsettling than friendly.

“Yes; in fact, she left to go speak with you.  You probably crossed paths somehow.  Would you care to wait for her?”

Again, Kaidan was at a loss.  “Uhh, sure.  If you don’t mind.  If you’re waiting to speak with her, I can always come back.”

Victus just gestured Kaidan toward the sofa.  “I don’t mind.  Would you like something to drink?”  When Kaidan nodded, Victus moved over to the cabinet where Shepard kept the beverages.  He took out a glass and placed it on top, then opened the door and waved a hand at the contents.  “I believe the expression is ‘pick your poison?’  Anyway, please help yourself, I’m not familiar with levo drinks.”

Mechanically, Kaidan went over and selected a drink.  Watching out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Primarch walk back over to the sofa and settle himself back in his previous place.  He still moved with the slow, deliberate grace of a predator.  Kaidan took his drink, and positioned himself at the opposite end of the sofa, looking around the room.  He wasn’t at all comfortable with the silence, but the Primarch didn’t seem inclined to talk, just studying him with a level gaze that gave away nothing.

Finally, Kaidan couldn’t stand the silence any longer.  “How long will you be remaining aboard the Normandy, Primarch?”

Victus took his time before answering.  “Until this war is resolved one way or another, I imagine.”

“I suppose there are advantages to operating from the Normandy, even if it does keep you away from your fleet?”

“Yes, there are numerous advantages; tactical and otherwise.”  Victus kept his expression carefully neutral, even though he was fairly sure the human couldn’t read it.  He was amused by how nervous the human was in his presence; and how uncomfortable he was with silence.

“Oh?  What other kinds of advantages are there?”

The door opened before Victus had to form a reply, and Kel walked in.  Her eyes found them immediately; she took in Kaidan’s stiff posture as he sat at the edge of the sofa gripping his glass without drinking from it, Victus’ relaxed posture, and narrowed her eyes.  

Sighing, she moved calmly down into the sitting area.  Her talk with Dr. Chakwas had taken longer than she expected, when they were finished she didn’t bother looking for Kaidan, she just asked EDI to locate him.  When she found out that he was in her quarters, she’d groaned aloud and hurried back.  Nothing good could come of this.

“Kaidan, is there something I can help you with?”  Shepard walked over to the sofa, and sat down near to Adrien, angling her body so she was facing Kaidan.  She kept her gaze steady on Kaidan’s face as she waited for him to answer.  Adrien was a reassuring presence just behind her.

Kaidan’s eyes flicked nervously between Shepard and Victus.  He was flattered that she chose to speak to him first, disappointed that she sat so far away, and still really uncomfortable with the intent gaze the Primarch had focused on him.

“Oh, I just wanted to talk, but Primarch Victus was here first.  I can wait while you take care of your business with him.”  At least if the Primarch left, he could relax a little.

Shepard just shook her head, though.  “I don’t have any business with Adrien.  I was coming to speak to you about the message you sent me.  I’m sorry, Kaidan; while I appreciate the offer, I don’t think I should join you for lunch.”  She bit her bottom lip, looking slightly worried as she waited for his reaction.

The disappointment her words caused drove all other thoughts from his mind.  Suddenly, he didn’t even notice the silent turian sitting beside her.  “Oh.  Hmm, that… isn’t the answer I was expecting.  May I ask why?”

She took a deep breath, and seemed to brace herself.  “Because I think you expect more from me than I’m able to give you.”

For a long minute, Kaidan stared at her in silence.  Then as a scowl settled firmly on his face, he said, “This is about Jacob Taylor, isn’t it?  I refuse to join a Cerberus mission, and you replace me with Mr. All Brawn and No Brains, is that it?  Really, Shepard, I thought you had better taste than that.  I thought we had something special.”

Shepard took a slow, deep breath, trying to stay calm.  Behind her, she could hear Adrien’s soft growl.  Clearly, she had to diffuse this situation before it got completely out of hand.

“No, Kaidan, this has nothing to do with Mr. Taylor.  Despite what you seem to believe, I have never been involved with him.  My answer has nothing to do with anyone except you and me.  We didn’t ‘have something special,’ because we never had anything.  You were a valued member of my crew on the first Normandy; your assistance in taking down Saren was very much appreciated.  We had a professional relationship, nothing more.”

“Shepard, you know it was more than that!  I understood that you didn’t want to hurt Liara’s feelings, but that’s not really a concern anymore.  She’s a big girl, she’ll get over it - if she hasn’t already.  I’ll even forgive you for taking up with that Cerberus idiot while I wasn’t here.”

Shepard stared at him, completely speechless for the first time she could remember.  His words were complete nonsense, but his tone clearly said he thought he was being the reasonable one here.  Adrien shifted impatiently on the sofa behind her, his growl getting louder; she knew he wanted to defend her, but trusted her enough to let her fight her own battles.

“Kaidan.  I need you to listen to me, and do me the favor of believing that I know my own feelings.  There is no possibility that anything other than friendship will ever exist between us.  I am very sorry if I gave you a different impression aboard the SR-1, it was never my intention.”  When he just looked blankly at her, as if he couldn’t understand what she was saying, she added, “And although Jacob and I are just friends, I am currently in a relationship - one that is very serious indeed.”

Kaidan snorted at that.  “Fine, it’s not Jacob.  Who then?  Someone on the ship?  Did you kill time during house arrest playing jailor and prisoner with Vega?  Who are you screwing around with, Shepard?”

This was one insult too many; Adrien stood abruptly, the motion catching Kaidan’s attention and stopping him before he could go any farther.  Adrien’s growl filled the room, and as Kaidan realized where it was coming from, his eyes widened and he glanced around nervously.

“That is more than enough, human.  You claim to respect Kel, you claim to care about her.  Those are clearly just words to you, if you can speak to her like this.  I think it’s time for you to leave.”

Kaidan rose and glowered at the angry turian standing in front of him.  “I really don’t see that this is any of your business, Primarch.  I’m surprised you don’t have the decency to leave instead of eavesdropping on a private conversation, but if you must remain at least stay out of things that don’t concern you.  Shepard doesn’t need your misguided interference.”

Adrien snarled a curse, advancing a single step towards Kaidan, who responded by allowing a flair of biotic power to wreath his hands.  

Before they could get any further, Shepard was standing between them; she had one hand on Adrien’s arm, the other held straight out with the palm facing Kaidan in a silent order to stop.  Her voice filled the room, riding easily over Adrien’s curses and the crackle of contained power from Kaidan’s biotics.  

“That’s enough!  Kaidan, stand down!  I will not have you tearing apart my quarters.  Adrien, relax.  I appreciate the thought, but I can handle myself.”

It took several tense moments before her orders were heeded.  Adrien straightened, some of the threat leaving his stance as he placed his hand over hers where it rested on his arm.  Kaidan let the blue glow around his hands die, scowling at both of them.  

Shepard turned toward Adrien, looking up into his face.  His eyes were still flashing with anger at the insults that had been thrown at her, his jaw was still clenched and his breathing rapid; he glared over her head at Kaidan.

“Adrien.  It’s fine.  Let it go.”  When he didn’t even glance at her, she gave his arm a firm shake.  When that didn’t help, she put both hands on his face and forcefully tilted his head down until she could catch his gaze.  “Adrien.  Let.  It.  Go.”  

Her eyes held his until his gaze softened and he relaxed fully.  He lowered his head the rest of the way to brush his forehead against hers, before nodding.  “If you’re sure it’s alright.”

With half the crisis averted, Shepard turned back towards Kaidan.  He was staring at them, his mouth hanging open and eyes wide.  

“Him!?  Shepard, you’re in a ‘relationship’ with the turian Primarch?  Are you nuts?”

Shepard smiled grimly.  “No, Kaidan, I’m happy.  I hope that someday you will be too.  But now, you really need to leave -”

He cut her off, glowering past her at Victus.  “This isn’t over.  I don’t know why you’re toying with her, but I’m not going to give up without a fight.”

Before Adrien could say anything, Shepard broke in.  All the patience was gone from her voice, this was the Commander speaking; her sharp tone and the way she bit off the words made him want straighten to attention without a thought.  

“Major Alenko, that is enough!  I have tried to be patient and considerate of your feelings, but I will no longer tolerate this behavior.  There is nothing to fight for, I have made my decision.  You should leave - now.  You’re excused from missions for the next three days.  I suggest that you take this time to consider whether you wish to remain aboard the Normandy.  If you choose to leave, I will drop you off at the Citadel the next time we’re there.  If you choose to remain, I expect nothing less than the most professional behavior from you - and certainly nothing more.  Do I make myself clear, Major?”

Although he resented her tone - and his automatic reaction to it - Kaidan saluted and gave what he knew was the only acceptable answer.  “Crystal, ma’am.”  When she nodded in response to his salute, he made his way to the door - giving Victus a wide berth and a glare on his way past.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Kaidan wore a scowl all the way back to the lounge.  He didn’t need three days, he had already made up his mind to leave.  That wasn’t his Shepard - clearly, Cerberus had messed something up.  He couldn’t stay on this fake Normandy with a fake Shepard; he’d go back to the Citadel and accept one of the many postings he’d been offered.  He didn’t need the three days of thinking time.  He’d use the time to grieve for the woman he loved, for she was surely dead; no matter what Cerberus had done with her body after the fact, his Shepard was gone forever.

Chapter Text

Shepard was talking with Adams down in Engineering when Joker let her know they were on the final approach to the Citadel.  She excused herself, and made her way to the cockpit.  She always tried to be in the cockpit when they arrived at the Citadel; not because she didn’t trust Joker to handle the docking, but because that view had never lost it’s appeal.  Like the first time they’d arrived here, the sight of the Citadel was enough to speed her heart rate and give her a little shiver.  Not many mundane things got a reaction like that anymore, so it was worth savoring.

There were a good number of crewmen milling around the CIC when she arrived; short shore leave made everyone anxious to get going.  She stood casually behind Joker, enjoying the view and ignoring his muttering, until they were docked.  As the docking clamps engaged and the ramp extended to the airlock, she turned.  There was a much larger crowd waiting impatiently for the airlock to cycle, and her eyes widened slightly as she looked at what must be every off duty crewman on her ship waiting eagerly to disembark.

It occurred to her that Kaidan had never given her an answer; actually, she hadn’t seen or heard from him since the confrontation in her quarters.  She was rather hoping that he would go, but it was impolite at the least that he hadn’t informed her of his decision.  She started a casual visual sweep of the gathered crew, hoping to spot him and thus determine his answer; less than halfway through her search, her gaze landed on Adrien and she smiled.  When his eyes met hers, he smiled back and made his way towards her.

It didn’t take him long to reach her, he was several inches taller than nearly everyone else, and her crew was still slightly intimidated by him besides; when it became clear where he was headed, they parted readily before him.  Kel smiled, resisting the urge to touch him when he stopped beside her.

“Primarch, I wasn’t expecting you.  Do you have business on the Citadel?”  Shepard kept her tone even, though Joker’s derisive snort made it clear she wasn’t fooling him.

“Yes, Commander, I do have some personal business to attend to.  It won’t take long, I’ll be back well before the Normandy is ready to leave.”

“I have some things to see to here, but would you join me for lunch when you’ve completed your business?”  

Adrien hummed thoughtfully.  “I must decline, Commander, as I’m not sure how long I’ll need to get everything taken care of.  I’ll see you when I’m back onboard.”  With a nod, he turned to the now open airlock and left; leaving Shepard speechless in his wake.

“Uh oh, trouble in paradise…”  Joker started humming ominous music until Shepard smacked the back of his chair.  He shut up, and sat in awkward silence until she left the cockpit.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Kaidan was standing in the CIC with the rest of the crew waiting while the Normandy docked.  He knew Shepard made a point of being in the cockpit during this time, and he’d planned his departure carefully.  He had his speech all ready: tell her he was leaving, wish her the best, promise to be there when she needed him.  He’d chosen his words carefully: he’d be distant, but professional; aloof, but not unreachable in case she changed her mind and wanted him to stay.  

He watched as she started looking over the assembled crew.  He was trying to decide whether he should make eye contact, when her gaze fell on someone else and a brilliant smile lit her features.  With a scowl, he followed her line of sight, and saw Primarch Victus making his way towards the cockpit.  Of course.

He was still scowling when the airlock opened and the crowd surged forward, carrying him with it.  When he neared the cockpit, he saw Shepard smiling up at Victus, who had his head tilted towards her.  They were completely ignoring everything around them as they spoke to each other.  With a sigh, he turned away from the cockpit.  He certainly wasn’t going to talk to her with Victus there.  Maybe he’d send her a letter.

With heavy footsteps and a full heart, Kaidan Alenko walked off the Normandy and away from Shepard.  Again.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Shepard had just finished approving the charges for the supplies she’d ordered, when her omni tool beeped.  She looked at it, and her eyes narrowed.  There was a message from Adrien, asking her to meet him in their quarters when she was free.  It was a perfectly innocuous message, as if he didn’t know she was angry at him.  She glanced at the time.  Still several hours left before they’d be leaving the Citadel, which left plenty of time to yell at him, and hopefully make up after he apologized.  

Her mind made up, she sent back a reply, and boarded the elevator.  The slow ascent gave her plenty of time to put the reasons she was annoyed with him in order of priority; she liked to fight efficiently, even if it was just a verbal argument with the man she loved.  When the elevator deposited her on the loft deck she had her grievances firmly in mind, her temper was high but held in check, and her opening volley was prepared.  She keyed open the door with more force than was strictly necessary.

So the waft of lavender scented air that greeted her as the doors slid open came as something of a surprise.  No less surprising were the candles - set on nearly every horizontal surface - which provided the only source of light, filling their quarters with a warm golden glow.  The table set for two, spread with what smelled like a truly excellent - and expensive - dinner was a complete shock.  Kel stood in the doorway and stared.

Movement on her right caught her attention.  Adrien walked towards her, mandibles flicking in a nervous smile.  She stared at him, surprised to find that he was wearing an elegant black suit, trimmed in silver.  The suit emphasized his lean form; for a moment her attention was diverted from the mystery of her surroundings, as she focused on simply admiring him.

When he reached her, he took her hand, drawing her into the room.  When the door slid shut behind her, he paused to lock it, before leading her to the table.  There, he released her hand and pulled her chair out for her.  Something about the gravity of the situation had her nerves singing and her heart pounding.  She didn’t sit immediately, her eyes searching his face.

“Adrien?  Is everything alright?”

He gave her a reassuring smile, and held out his hand, beckoning her towards the chair.  “Of course.  I just wanted to share a private meal with you, instead of a public one.”

Kel moved forward, and sat in the chair he was holding, smiling as he scooted it towards the table for her, before moving around and taking his own seat.  “It’s lovely, Adrien.  I do feel slightly underdressed, though.”  She gestured to her uniform.

“You’re gorgeous.  No matter what you’re wearing.”  He moved several containers toward her, ignoring the blush that crept up her cheeks at the compliment.  “I hope I selected well.”

“It smells wonderful.”  Opening the first container, she found a chilled salad; the next held still steaming garlic bread, the largest container had her grinning with delight.  “Linguini with pesto!  Adrien, how did you know?”

He cleared his throat, looking slightly embarrassed.  “I admit that I cheated.  I asked Dr. T’Soni for a recommendation.  She seemed amused, but it didn’t take her long to suggest this.  Is it alright?”

“It’s my favorite.  Thank you, Adrien.”  She put the lid back on the pasta and bread containers, giving the one holding the pasta a little pat, and started with the salad.  

He chuckled at her expression, and started on his own meal as well.  They talked as they ate, and Kel’s nerves were settling down.  It was so thoughtful of him to arrange this for her.  They’d enjoyed the relatively quiet time together lately, but this felt far more indulgent.  She reached over, and caught his hand in hers, holding it as they ate.  This was more like their first date on the Citadel; they talked and laughed, sharing stories about themselves and their homes without reference to duty or the war.  By the time she ran the last bit of bread around the bottom of her bowl to catch every last drop of the pesto, Kel was more relaxed than she had been since the whole mess with Saren started.

“Thank you, Adrien.  So much.”  She leaned forward, one arm resting on the table, her other hand still holding his.  “Spending time with you like this… it’s wonderful.  I love you.”

Her words seemed to make him nervous for some reason.  He squeezed her hand, then dropped it and stood up.  When she looked at him questioningly, he motioned for her to stay.  

“No, don’t get up.  I have something for you, that’s all.  Just a minute.”

He went back up to her desk, and returned with a medium sized box.  Kel raised an eyebrow as he set it in front of her, one hand on the top.  The box was about 11 inches wide, eight inches deep, and five inches tall; it was made of a dark colored wood, with lighter golden colored inlay forming a pattern that seemed familiar.  Adrien’s fingers tapped on the top anxiously.

“This is for you, if you accept it.  I, hmm, don’t know what the human custom is.”

When she just looked at him questioningly, he sighed and removed his hand, waving it towards her in a gesture she took to mean that she should open the box.  So she did.

The inside was covered in amber velvet, rich and warm, that reminded her of his eyes.  The inside of the lid held a mirror.  The rest of the box had two shaped, padded niches; one held a large cut glass jar filled with something thick and white, the other held a long slender paintbrush.  

Kel caught her breath, her eyes flicking from the contents of the box to Adrien’s face, and back.  Her hands shook slightly as she ran her fingers over the velvet, trying to calm her nerves before she looked at him again.  Was this really what she thought - hoped - it was?  When she felt like she had control over her features again, she looked back up at Adrien.

He was watching her intently; his gaze unblinking, his mandibles quivering slightly with tension.  When her eyes met his, he reached over and took her hand again.

“Kel, will you be my mate?  Will you tie your name to mine, as my heart is tied to yours?”  He tapped the box lightly.  “Will you join my family, and let everyone see that we are one?”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

He hadn’t been sure of the human customs, but he didn’t want to just do this the human way.  If they were going to be together - publicly and permanently - then he wanted to do something that held meaning for them both.  

He had used every spare moment, and no few favors, to have everything he needed ready at the Citadel.  

The paint had given him some trouble - what turians used would cause pain on her sensitive human skin - until he came up with the idea of asking EDI.  He didn’t know if the Normandy’s AI had created the recipe she gave him, or found it somewhere, but she assured him that the paint wouldn’t harm Kel, and would be semi-permanent - enough that it would come off, but only when she used the soap that came with it.  Getting a cosmetics shop on the Citadel to mix both formulas had been easily accomplished.

He had called in favors from a friend who owned a shop on the Citadel to get the box just right, and had been pleasantly surprised with the results when he went to pick it up.  

Liara had helped him with the meal selection, and he owed Ms. Traynor something (a toothbrush of some sort?  He’d told her to pick what she liked and send the bill to him) for keeping Kel busy with the resupply long enough for him to prepare everything in their quarters.

The look on Kel’s face when she walked into the room had made all the effort of running around the Citadel worth it.  He’d truly enjoyed the meal, and had almost forgotten to be nervous about her reaction until the end of it.  He held his breath and watched her face while she stared at the contents of the box.  When she looked back up at him, he’d forgotten his nerves and spoken the words he’d practiced for so long.  It had all gone according to his plan.

Except then she started crying.  Tears were sliding down her face, her hand was gripping his tightly and her other hand covered her mouth.  His heart froze in his chest, was she going to turn him down?

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Kel’s fingers clenched tightly around Adrien’s.  She blinked frantically to clear her vision, and when she looked up, she found a very worried looking turian staring back at her.  She instantly felt bad for worrying him with her emotional display; instead of trying to find the perfect words to answer him, she just nodded and choked out her answer.

“Yes.  Adrien, yes.”  She wiped her sleeve over her face, smiling when he pushed her hand away and used a much softer napkin to wipe away her tears.  She met his eyes, and spoke again, this time with more weight behind her words.  “Forever, Adrien.  I’ll be yours forever.”  Her laughter was almost giddy.  “Relax.  Humans cry when we’re really happy, too; not just when we’re upset.”

His face cleared immediately and he chuckled.  “Maybe I should have done some research on human customs, then.  I wouldn’t have been so surprised.”

Adrien stood up, pulling her to her feet and into his arms.  She sighed, returning the hug before raising onto her tiptoes to press her forehead against his.  When he returned the gesture, she smiled and leaned back.  

“So, are you going to show me how to do this?”  She waved at the box.

“Absolutely.”  Pushing her gently back into her chair, he pulled his around until they sat facing each other, knees touching.  He picked up the brush and took the cap off the jar, then dipped the brush into the paint.  

Taking a slow breath, he brought the brush over, and started with delicate strokes over her cheekbones.  He worked smoothly, not quickly but without hesitation; a fact Kel realized meant he’d put quite a bit of thought into this, since he’d already adjusted the lines to accommodate her different facial proportions.  

He talked as he worked, telling her about the paint and the cleanser, checking often to be sure it didn’t sting.  When he finished, he put the jar away, then picked up the box, so she could look in the mirror there.

A smile lit her face as soon as she saw her reflection.  The pattern was the same, of course, but he’d made the markings more delicate than his own; the lines thinner, and where they were shorter, he’d compensated with a delicate upward sweep to give the illusion of length.  

Kel grinned, turning her head from side to side to admire the markings, as she comment idly, “It’ll probably take a bit until I do this good a job of it, you know.”  

He closed the box, and before she could protest, tapped a finger against the lid.  She looked at it more closely and realized the inlaid pattern matched the pattern he’d painted for her.  She laughed.  “You think of everything.”

Finally looking up, she caught his eyes; the heat in his gaze took her breath away.  “Did you have any other plans for the evening, Adrien?”  Her voice was slightly breathless.  

He didn’t answer, just set the box on the table, and took her hand, pulling her towards the bed.

Chapter Text

When he woke up, Adrien wasn’t surprised to find himself alone in bed.  They’d be meeting with the quarian fleet today; he’d expected Kel to get an early start.  The curses he could hear coming from the bathroom were something of a surprise, and he laughed quietly as he leaned back in bed to listen to her.  He enjoyed listening to Kel curse because it always reminded him of the day they met; this morning, she was cursing in turian, which made listening to her even more enjoyable.

He hadn’t realized she would hear his laughter, but suddenly her latest string of curses ended with, “you could come help me instead of laughing at me, Adrien!”  He got out of bed quickly, and crossed the room.

The bathroom door was open, Kel was leaning over the sink, trying to watch her reflection closely while applying her new colony markings.  He came up behind her, and took the brush out of her hand.  Setting the brush on the sink, he wrapped both arms around her waist, leaning down to nip lightly at her neck before resting his chin on her shoulder.  Standing like that, he studied her reflection in the mirror.

No wonder she was frustrated.  She’d done really well on one side of her face, but the other side didn’t match at all.  He tried not to laugh at the attempt, but when his eyes met hers he couldn’t resist.  She was glowering at her reflection with a look that was usually saved for enemies.

When his laughter died down, he picked up the cleanser and a sponge, and turned her to face him.  He quickly removed the paint, gently dried her face, and picked up the brush.  With a few sure strokes, he repainted the markings for her.  Holding her chin in his fingers so she wouldn’t move, he smiled at her.

“It’s getting better.  The one side looked excellent.”  When she just glared at him, he spread his mandibles wide in a grin.  “Oh, come on.  I won’t tell anyone that the great Commander Shepard has zero artistic ability.”

She snorted.  “You’d better not.  This would be so much easier if you were human.  Then I’d just have to learn how to spell your last name.”  Stretching up, she kissed him lightly, then slipped past him out of the bathroom.

Adrien followed, looking confused.  “Learn to spell my last name?  But you already know how to do that.”

Kel nodded.  “Exactly!  See?  Sooo much easier.”

He watched as she got dressed, then returned to the bathroom to put her hair up.

“I still don’t understand.  What does that have to do with anything?”

“Oh, well.  When humans get married, it’s traditional for the wife to use her husband’s last name, instead of her own.  So, if you were human, I’d change my name to Kelela Victus.  And spelling ‘Victus’ is much easier than learning how to do this well.”  She gestured at her face, then picked up the hairpins that sat on the sink and started sticking them into her hair.  

He laughed.  “Yes, and it is nice, you can do it if you want.  However, a different name doesn’t have the same… effect… as those marks do.”  His voice dropped to a low rumble at the end of his statement, and he smiled lazily as she shivered in response.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and slipped past him again, this time heading for the door.  Her tone was deliberately casual, the look she gave him as she stepped through the door was anything but.  “Good to know, Adrien.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The quarian admirals walked into the war room without hesitation, already announcing their situation and the help they needed.  The conversation stuttered to a halt as they took in her face, but they only hesitated for a moment.  Whether they recognized that she was wearing turian colony markings or just thought it was a human fashion, she couldn’t tell.

Shepard was delighted to be working with Tali again.  She’d been hoping to see her friend when they got to the fleet, but she hadn’t been sure that Tali would be able to work with her again.  Tali seemed a little off, though.  She warned Shepard that they couldn’t really talk until they were in private; Shepard just nodded her agreement, and went to give Joker the coordinates for the geth dreadnought.  On her way, she contacted Garrus and told him to be ready.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Apparently, Tali’s idea of “in private” included the team combat channel.  While Shepard was walking through a destroyed geth docking tunnel.  And Tali’s idea of “talking” was to grill Shepard on her new fashion.

“So, Shepard.  Is this some human makeup thing, or are those really turian colony markings on your face?”

Shepard sighed as she heard Garrus laughing in the background.  “They really are turian colony markings, Tali.  I thought we were going to talk in private?”

“Well, this is pretty private.  It’s just Garrus, after all.  So, whose colony markings are they, Shepard?”

Shepard sighed.  It looked like she wasn’t going to be able to put the conversation off.  She just hoped Tali didn’t ask anything too personal.  “Primarch Victus’, Tali.”

“Primarch Victus?  I didn’t even know you knew him, Shepard, let alone that you were seeing him.  Am I the only one who didn’t know?”

The broken pieces of the docking tube detached and she fought for balance; Shepard decided that maybe an embarrassing conversation was just what she needed right now.  She stood still, trying to catch her breath against the rush of irrational fear, when Garrus spoke up.

“Well, not exactly, but it was a surprise even to those who did know the whole story.”

Shepard was pleased when her voice came out steady.  “A surprise, Garrus?  What exactly did you think you were encouraging with those tactical suggestions after Tuchanka?”

“You know… blowing off steam?  I figured you were fairly serious; you’d have to be to take things that far.  I didn’t think Victus was serious about it, though.”

Shepard scowled, even knowing he couldn’t see it.  “And why did you think he wasn’t serious?”

“Because he didn’t say anything about being on intimate terms with a human - or anyone! -  the entire time we were on Menae.  He didn’t seem surprised to see you when you showed up to get him for the conference, either.  He never seemed to go out of his way to find you between missions.  He didn’t even let anything through his sub vocals when he’d talk about you.”

Shepard was seething, and Tali was laughing hysterically by the time Garrus finished.

“So because we were discreet, you thought he wasn’t serious about me?”

“Well, yeah.  I mean, Joker told me that Alenko went to your quarters, and we saw him afterwards - he was still in one piece, not a scratch on him!  I want to throw him out the airlock, and I’m not even dating you.”

Shepard had to laugh at that.  Poor Kaidan, to be reduced to the butt of all jokes on the Normandy.

“Well, thank you both for your ‘concern’ but I promise you it is misplaced.  Adrien and I are both fully committed to this relationship, whether you see the fireworks or not.”

"Fireworks, Shepard?"  Tali chimed in, "So tell me, what sort of fireworks are we talking about here?  How is he-"

She finally found the airlock and managed to override the controls.  As Tali and Garrus stepped through and made their way up to her, she added, “And now, gossip time is over.  Let’s get back to work.”

....................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

When she climbed out of the cargo area of the geth fighter, the last thing Shepard expected to see was a scowling Primarch waiting for her.  He stood at the consoles in front of the elevator doors, arms crossed over his chest.  For a moment, she dared to hope he wasn’t mad at her; but Garrus’ chuckle when he exited the fighter killed that brief hope.  Squaring her shoulders, she walked over to him; aware of Legion, Tali, and Garrus following more slowly behind her.

When she reached him, Adrien set his hands on her shoulders, his eyes searching her face.

“Are you alright?”

The worry in his voice was evident, and she knew instantly what had caused it.  Before she could answer, Garrus snorted from behind her.

“This wasn’t her first mission, Primarch.  Besides, Tali and I were watching her back.  We’re fine too, by the way.”

Adrien’s eyes never left hers, but the bite in his voice and the sarcasm in his subtones was directed at Garrus.  “Clearly.  However, I wasn’t concerned about anything that might have been affected by your presence, Vakarian.”

Shepard reached up to rest her hands on his chest.  “Enough, Adrien.  I’m alright.”

“I was in the war room, you know.  While you were in that docking tube.  I know that’s not true.”

Garrus and Tali shared a horrified look.  Victus had heard them talking about his relationship with Shepard?  Tali started to stammer an apology, but Victus waved her off.

“I’m not bothered by the topic of conversation, don’t worry about it.”  

Garrus and Tali shared another look, this one confused.

“You’re clearly worried about something, Primarch.  What is it?”

When he hesitated, Shepard sighed.  “You’ve already told them this much, Adrien, we may as well tell them the rest.”  She turned to her squad.  “The docking tube.  It was falling apart, there was no gravity, and no air besides what was in my suit.”  She rolled her eyes when they just stared at her.  “It’s too similar to how I died, ok?”

The look of dawning realization on Garrus’ face was almost worth admitting to the weakness.  Almost.  She turned back to Adrien.

“Really, though, I’m fine, Adrien.  It was a little uncomfortable there for a bit, but I got through it, and I got to shoot lots of bad guys.  And now, I get to go yell at the admirals, and find out what the heck they were thinking.  Wanna watch?”  

She grinned at him, and he gave in; he relaxed enough to lean down and press his forehead against hers, ignoring Garrus’ barely smothered laugh.  “Sure, why not.  If I’m lucky, maybe you’ll make use of your colorful vocabulary.”

Shepard rolled her eyes and led the way into the elevator.  She didn’t protest when Adrien caught her hand and held it throughout the slow ascent.  The truth was, she was still feeling shaky about that walk whenever she thought about it; she was surprised he’d picked up on it over the comm, though.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Anger.  Distrust.  Insults, both petty and pointed.  Threats, both veiled and obvious.  Enough tension to power the Normandy.  Enough pig-headed stubbornness to fill the galaxy.  

Talking to the quarian admirals was a lot like talking to the council.

Garrus and Tali had left gratefully when she dismissed them.  Legion didn’t seem bothered by the emotions in the room.  Adrien leaned on a console on the upper level, watching with his mandibles spread wide in a grin.  When Shepard finally managed to get away from the admirals, he followed her out of the war room.

“So, are they an improvement over Wrex and me, or a step down?”

Shepard gave him a tired glare, but it didn’t phase him, he just smirked at her in response.

“Oh, definitely a step down.  If Wrex was out of line, I could just shoot him.  And if you were out of line you could go sleep in the airlock.”  It was her turn to smirk at his horrified expression.  “You may want to remember that the next time you waylay me in the hangar to ask personal questions in front of my squad.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.  May I escort you to our quarters?”

He watched her, wondering if she was still mad, but she gave him an unreadable look as she answered.  “I’d like that.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

This time, the scowling turian was waiting in her quarters.  That was an improvement, technically, but the extra waiting hadn’t done any good.  

Kel sighed, and moved into the room, taking her armour off piece by piece and putting it on the stand.  He still hadn’t said anything, so she stripped out of her undersuit.  He still remained silent, so she selected a clean uniform, and made her way to the bathroom.  Since he was still just pacing the room and fuming, she took the time to shower, touch up her colony marks, and get dressed.  She left her wet hair hanging freely down her back and stepped out into the room.

Adrien was still pacing and glowering at her, so she walked over and planted herself in his path.

“Well?”

He stepped closer so he loomed over her, and threw his arms out to the sides.  “What were you thinking?!  A reaper, Kel?  On foot??  You’re supposed to be some sort of tactical genius, and the best plan you could come up with was to play dodge-the-laser-beam with a spirits forsaken reaper while on foot?!”

She raised an eyebrow at him, but stayed silent.

“And then, then, as if that weren’t enough, when you finally had taken the thing down and survived it, you had to go and argue with the planet destroying machine?!  Do you have a death wish?”

Kel was fighting to keep a straight face as she waited silently for him to finish.

“Don’t just stand there staring at me, Commander!  Enlighten me.  What grand plan motivated this stunning display of self sacrifice?  On what tactical foundation did this scheme rest?  What were you thinking - were you even thinking?  Well, Commander?”

“Well, it worked.”

She had to bite her lip to keep from grinning; he hadn’t been a general for nothing, a dressing down from him would have reduced most soldiers to a blubbering mess.  It was fascinating to watch.  And, perhaps a little tempting.  She wasn’t able to stop the low hum from escaping her; a habit she’d picked up from him, it was a poor compensation for a lack of subvocal tones, but he heard it, and his eyes narrowed.

He spun around and started pacing again, muttering to himself.  “That’s all you have to say for yourself?  It worked?  That was some plan, if the only thing you can say to justify it is ‘it worked.’  What are you-”

He turned to face her, and caught the grin on her face before she could hide it.  If he was human, he’d have turned ten different shades of red by now; as it was, his mandibles clamped tight to his jaw, quivering slightly, as the rest of him vibrated with anger.

That did it, Kel clapped a hand over her mouth, but couldn’t hold in the giggles.  She was gasping for breath between gales of laughter, as Adrien glared at her.  

She managed to explain, “Adrien, as impressive as that was, I just took out a reaper on foot.  You can’t possibly think you’re scary after that?”  The shocked look on his face sent her into another round of helpless laughter.

Finally, her laughter died; fortunately, it took most of his anger with it.  When he relaxed slightly, she went to him.  Reaching up, she caught his face in her hands, and tugged him down until their foreheads pressed together.

“I’m sorry I worried you.  I know it was dangerous, but it really was the best plan I could come up with on short notice.  Even now, I can’t think of anything better.  And, it did work.”

He was still growling an annoyed subvocal that she could barely hear, but he nodded and slid his arms around her.  “I know.  I worry about you, though.  You’re the center of my universe, Kel; I don’t know what I’d do without you.  The thought of you being killed in this war… it raises all my protective instincts.  I know you have a job to do, and I can’t protect you, but I can’t help the feelings.”

She nodded, leaning against him, letting herself relax as their breathing naturally synchronized.  “I know.  I feel the same way.  I’m sorry I worried you, Adrien.”

He let the silence reign for several minutes, enjoying her touch and the feel of her in his arms.  Finally, he leaned back enough to catch her eyes.

“We really need to work on your vocal cues, Kel.”  His eyes danced with laughter.  “It sounded like you were propositioning me.”

For a long minute, she didn’t answer, letting her fingers trail over his face and along his mandibles.  She tried to duplicate the hum she’d made before.  “Did it?  Well then, I’d say I’m doing rather well.”

It took a minute, but when he caught her meaning he purred back to her and pulled her close.

Chapter Text

Primarch Victus kept his expression neutral as the last flickers of light faded from the vidcomm.  When the light flashed to red, indicating that the connection was terminated, he relaxed and gave in to the scowl he’d been fighting throughout the conversation.  Turning on his heel, he made his way back to the CIC, hoping to find Shepard at her terminal.

She wasn’t there, but Ms. Traynor deciphered the meaning behind his scowl, and directed him to the cockpit.  He could hear Kel’s voice as he drew closer; she was alternately responding to EDI’s questions and Joker’s witticisms.  He paused in front of the airlock, listening for a moment.  Bracing himself, he stepped forward, wincing at the way Kel’s face lit up when she saw him.

“Commander Shepard, may I have a moment of your time?”

Her eyebrows rose, but she nodded and allowed him to precede her out of the cockpit.  He walked halfway back towards the CIC before stopping and turning to face her.  She smiled at him, waiting expectantly.

He locked his hands behind his back, focusing his gaze just above her head.  “Commander Shepard, if it is not terribly inconvenient, I request that we stop at the Citadel as soon as possible.”  

He watched as concern washed over her features.  When she reached out to him, he turned to pace away from her; pretending he hadn’t seen the gesture, pretending he didn’t see the hurt on her face.  He reached the end of the walkway, turned and paced back towards her.  By the time he reached her, her ‘commander’ mask was firmly in place.

“Of course, Primarch.  We’re actually on our way there now, we just changed course a few minutes ago.  The asari councilor wants to speak with me.  Is there anything I can help you with?”

She was watching him closely, so he was careful to keep his expression bland.  He couldn’t trust his voice, so he simply nodded his thanks and left.  When he reached the elevator, he boarded and risked a look back as the doors were closing; she was standing where he’d left her, staring at him with a confused expression.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Shepard walked slowly back towards the cockpit, frowning to herself over Adrien’s behavior.  

“You know, you two aren’t fooling anyone, Commander.”

Joker’s sardonic comment pulled her out of her thoughts, and she favored him with a raised eyebrow.  “What are you talking about?  Who do you think we’re trying to fool?”

Joker rolled his eyes.  “Riiiight.  Just because you and lover-boy walk away and use titles and stuff doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on.  ‘Commander Shepard, please report for booty duty at 1800 sharp.’ ‘Yes sir, Primarch Victus, sir!’  You’re just not that subtle, Commander.”

Shepard laughed at him.  “I do not sound like that.  And no one has ever mentioned ‘booty duty’ before you did.  Primarch Victus simply asked us to stop at the Citadel; I informed him we were already on our way, and that’s all.  Keep your mind out of the gutter and on flying my ship, Flight Lieutenant.”

“Whatever you say, Commander.”  He waited until she was leaving, then called after her, “And that is exactly what you sound like!”  

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Shepard had been hoping to find Adrien in their quarters, but when she got there, the room was empty.  She asked EDI, and was informed that he was on the crew deck.  Shrugging, she boarded the elevator and pushed the button for the third level.

When the elevator doors slid open, she headed towards the mess.  It was empty, but she could hear growling voices raised angrily in the main battery.  A look showed the door was locked, and her eyes narrowed.  She grabbed some food, keeping an eye on the battery doors, and planted herself at a table facing them.  She picked absently at her food, flipping through her extranet messages on her omni tool, until the doors slid open.

After a final growled exchange, Adrien left the battery, stalking away with his eyes focused on the floor.  Garrus stood in the doorway behind him, arms crossed over his chest and mandibles pulled tight to his face.  

When Adrien reached her table, she cleared her throat, pushing back a chair invitingly.  He just shook his head at her, though, and stalked around the corner.  A minute later, he boarded the elevator and was gone.

Shepard didn’t bother to hide her surprise as she looked back at Garrus.  He was still obviously unhappy, but when she raised her eyebrows questioningly at him, he shook his head and retreated into the battery.  A minute later, the doors slid closed and the lock promptly glowed red.

Shepard stood up, carrying her empty plate to the sink and slamming it into the cleaner before making her own way to the elevator.  She punched the button for the loft deck, waiting out the slow ascent with folded arms and tapping foot.  The lock here was green, this time she was entirely unsurprised to find the room empty.  Scowling, she sat at her terminal, determined to work instead of worry.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Adrien stayed in the war room for as long as he could keep his eyes open.  At least there wasn’t any shortage of work to do, or reports that needed his attention.  After five hours, though, he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.  He checked the time; three hours before the day watch started.  Kel would hopefully be asleep by now.  With heavy steps, he made his way to their quarters.

The first thing he noticed when he stepped off the elevator was the red indicator on the door.  She rarely locked the door, especially if he was still out.  He scowled at it momentarily, then keyed in the code.  The door slid open, revealing a silent and darkened room.  Moving as quietly as he could, Adrien locked the door behind him, pausing to let his eyes adjust.  He could hear Kel’s steady breathing, and see the lump she made in the bed, so he left the lights off in hopes that he wouldn’t disturb her.

He moved carefully down the steps to his side of the bed; stripping out of his clothes quickly before sliding under the sheets.  He settled himself carefully, each motion slow and cautious so he wouldn’t wake her.  When he was comfortable, he let out a soft sigh of relief.

“Working late, Adrien?”

He jumped, sitting up in bed and staring at her.  She hadn’t moved, hadn’t even indicated by a change in breathing that she was awake before she spoke.  Shepard sat up, then reached out to tap the light control on the nightstand.  When she turned to face him, he scowled, and deliberately laid back down.

“Yes, I was.  And now I’m very tired.  As you will be, if you do not go back to sleep.”

He got comfortable again and closed his eyes, pointedly ignoring her until she turned the light off and laid back down with a sigh.

“I’m always here if you want to talk about it, Adrien.”

Her voice was quiet and level, but the emotionless tone revealed how much he had hurt her.  

He sighed again, wishing he could tell her.  But what could he say?  No matter what he told her, she would be hurt or would argue.  Or both.  At least in saying nothing, he wouldn’t have to defend an indefensible position.  Oh, she was clearly angry at his refusal to confide in her, and her anger would make for a very long and uncomfortable journey to the Citadel.  But at least all her considerable will power would be turned to making him talk, instead of talking him in or out of a decision he had no desire to make, but knew he had to.

He had to fight the urge to toss and turn in the bed, or get up and pace.  He was listening carefully and he knew she was still awake, lying silent and motionless beside him in the dark.

Eventually, even his problems couldn’t keep him awake, and he fell into an uneasy sleep.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

It was a five day trip to the Citadel, and Shepard put up with Adrien’s silence for four of those days.

Four days in which he barely spoke to her - or anyone - and scowled at all attempts at conversation.  Four days in which he buried himself in work in the war room, leaving only for quick meals or a few hours of sleep.  Four days in which her attempts at conversation bounced off him and fell flat.  Four days in which she was miserable.

On the fifth day, with only a few hours left before they docked at the Citadel, she decided she’d had enough.  A direct confrontation wasn’t going to work, so she decided to get clever.

She cornered Garrus in the main battery.  He hadn’t spoken to Adrien since the time she’d heard them arguing at the start of all this, but she figured that would just make him more willing to tell her what was going on.

So she was quite surprised when he refused to discuss it.

“Sorry, Shepard.  You know I’ve got your back, but this really isn’t something I can discuss if he doesn’t.  I’m sorry, he told me not to say anything.”

Shepard sighed, she should have known better.

“You picked a great time to start acting like a good turian, Garrus.”  When he would have objected, she waved a hand.  “No, no, it’s alright.  I shouldn’t have asked, I’m just worried.  I’m sorry.”

She walked away before he could reply, but he called after her, “Shepard.  He got a vidcomm call from the Citadel around that time.  Just a thought.”

Shepard didn’t respond, but she was smiling grimly as she made her way back to the elevator.

Once in her quarters, she locked the door, and sat at her terminal.

“EDI, do you have a recording of the call the Primarch received a few days ago?”

“Yes, Commander.  I have a record of all transmissions to and from the war room.”

“Play it, EDI.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

“Primarch Victus, thank you for taking the time to speak with me.  I would like to offer my congratulations on the success of the war summit.”  Councilor Sparatus stood calmly, hands at his sides as he spoke.

“Thank you, Councilor.  I deserve very little of the credit, however.  Urdnot Wrex and Commander Shepard’s ground team did all the heavy lifting, they’re the ones who deserve your congratulations.”  Victus’ voice was controlled, cautious.

“Yes, I’m sure.  Nonetheless, it is your efforts which we are discussing currently.  When do you intend to return to Hierarchy space?”  Sparatus, as usual, waved off any contribution made by Shepard.

“I am not sure, Councilor, but it is unlikely to be soon.  The Normandy has just finished dealing with the situation between the geth and qurians; I’m not sure what our next destination will be.”

Sparatus’ tone was sharper now, filled with annoyance.  “I was not asking about the Normandy’s assignments, Primarch.  I wish to know when you will be returning to Hierarchy space, and leading our forces personally.”

“I am not planning on leaving the Normandy, Councilor.  I can direct our strategy effectively from here, and when the Normandy returns to Earth, I will be there to lead our forces in the final assault against the Reapers.”  Victus’ voice was still tightly controlled, but with an edge that indicated he didn’t like where the conversation was headed.

“I had heard as much, Primarch, and I do not approve.”  Sparatus’ voice was cold.

“I appreciate your candor, Councilor.  However, the decision has been made.”

“Are you sure this is a tactical decision, Primarch Victus?  You would not have made this decision for personal reasons, would you?”  The insinuation in his words was clear, his subvocal tones only made it more obvious.

Victus hissed angrily.  “You are not seriously suggesting that I have put my own desires above the good of our soldiers?  That I would risk their lives, simply to do as I wish?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I am afraid of.  Your ‘desires’ may be leading you astray.”  Before Victus could reply to the thinly veiled insult, Sparatus continued.  “So far, I am the only one to have this concern.  If you would like it to remain that way, you will come to the Citadel to speak with me in person.”

Victus kept his own subvocal tones tightly under control.  “You will not change my mind by talking to me, and you certainly will not change my mind with empty threats.”

Sparatus shrugged, supremely confident in his control of the situation.  “We can discuss how empty the threat is when you get here.  You will come to the Citadel, and you will be prepared to leave the Normandy and return to your rightful place leading the turian fleet against the Reapers.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The vidcomm connections closed, and the recording froze.  Shepard stared at her screen, her mouth hanging open.  The implications were clear: Councilor Sparatus knew of their relationship and obviously disapproved.  His threat to spread his stories and lies to the rest of the Hierarchy had shocked her, but she could see that it would carry weight; the middle of a war was the last time you wanted soldiers to lose confidence in their leaders, it would be disastrous for morale.  It was painfully clear what needed to be done.

Shepard sat at her desk, staring at the frozen image of the dark vidcomm, until Joker’s voice broke into her thoughts.

“Uhh, Commander?  You there?  We’ve been docked for about 15 minutes now, everyone’s waiting for shore leave permission.  Well, except lover-boy, he left the minute the airlock opened.”  

Shepard’s heart fell.  He’d left.

“Uhh, Commander?  Everything alright?”

She replied automatically, her voice flat.  “Yes, Joker, it’s fine.”

“In that case, can you approve shore leave so everyone will stop hovering around the cockpit?”

Her voice was still flat when she answered.  “Yes, Joker, it’s approved.  Tell them 24 hours.  I’ll be meeting with Councilor Tevos, but I’ll be back after that.  Ask Garrus to start the resupply, and I’ll relieve him when I return.”

Standing, Shepard went into the bathroom, and stared at the white colony marks on her face.  Adrien had left without a word.  The military part of her brain, the tactical planning part, knew it was the right choice; they couldn’t afford the upheaval Sparatus would cause.  

Her heart didn’t see things the same way - it was breaking; he hadn’t even said goodbye.

Chapter Text

Primarch Victus took the long way to Councilor Sparatus’ office; he managed to make the trip take nearly 20 minutes, but he did get there, and couldn’t put this off any longer.  

Tapping the door release, he walked in; when the asari receptionist tried to stop him, he simply stated, “I’m Primarch Victus.  He’ll see me now,” and kept walking.  The door to the Councilor’s office was unlocked, and Victus entered without knocking.

Sparatus looked up with a scowl which faded slightly when he saw who had entered.  

“Primarch Victus, won’t you have a seat?”  His voice was smooth and bland, his subvocal tones humming with poorly hidden triumph.

Victus walked over to the chair he’d been offered, and stood behind it, hands clasped behind his back.

“I will not, Councilor.  I have come as a courtesy, but this is not a social visit.  What is it you wish to say?”  Victus’ voice was tightly controlled, his subvocal tones deliberately silent; it was an important skill for a military leader, but it usually made civilians nervous to not have those additional conversational cues.

“Ah, well, yes, Primarch.  I wished to discuss your plans to leave the Normandy.  Since we’ve already discussed why such a plan is best for all involved, I hope that you’ll be ready to act on it immediately.”  Sparatus was clearly nervous; it was one thing threatening the Primarch over vidcomm, and another thing entirely doing it in person.  He was well aware of Victus’ reputation for being dangerous.

“I have no plans to leave the Normandy.  Your objection to my continued presence is noted, however the decision is a tactical one, and I will not be changing it.”

Sparatus’ mandibles clamped tightly against his face, anger radiating from him.  He scowled at Victus, who stood without moving, hands clasped behind his back and gaze focused on a point over the Councilor’s right shoulder.

“And in what way, exactly, is this a ‘tactical’ decision, Primarch?  It appears to be a purely personal - and selfish - decision meant to keep you closer to your human girlfriend.”  The last two words were sneered with such loathing that Victus’ eyes met Sparatus’ for a moment.  

Not seeing an answer to what had caused such a strong reaction in the normally cool politician, Victus shrugged slightly, his eyes leaving Sparatus’.

“The two most important things in this war are communications and stability.  The Normandy obviously has superior communications equipment - indeed, the Council and even the leader of the resistance on Earth are able to communicate with us regularly.  If I were to return to Palaven, my ability to communicate with the fleet would only be as strong as the comm towers and buoys in system; when those are gone, I would be out of contact.  I would not be able to coordinate our defenses in a reasonable time frame, essentially leaving each group of ships and ground forces on their own.  This would be a disaster.”

Sparatus was still scowling, but at least he was listening.  Victus took a deep breath and continued.

“As far as stability goes, again the Normandy is clearly the best choice there as well.  The ship has superior stealth systems, as well as several defensive and offensive upgrades, which make it the safest place in the galaxy right now.  If I were to join the turian fleet, or the Menae garrison, or anywhere else for that matter, my safety would be a much more tenuous thing.  I will be the first to admit that I never expected to be Primarch of Palaven; however, now that I am, our best chance of getting out of this alive is for me to remain Primarch.  A change now would be disruptive and possibly dangerous; a change at a more pivotal time could be disastrous.”

Throughout his explanation, Victus had remained calm, keeping his tone neutral and carefully inoffensive.  Now though, he allowed his subvocal tones to hum with scorn for the Councilor.

“As far as other considerations, I believe you can understand the political ramifications even better than I do.  We have an alliance with the krogan because the Normandy was present.  I have the most up to date information on the status of not just the war but also of the Crucible Project.  We will be fighting with the human fleets before this is over; being an accepted presence on the Alliance’s flagship will only be a good thing.”

He fell silent, and waited.  Sparatus was thinking furiously, his sub vocal tones humming thoughtfully as he processed the information.  He kept glaring at Victus, but the Primarch continued to ignore him.  He was ready to defy the councilor if it was necessary, but it would really be best for everyone if Sparatus could be made to see reason.

Finally, Sparatus sighed, his subvocal tones ringing with resignation.

“And these are your reasons?  You’re not remaining on the Normandy because of a personal relationship between you and Shepard?”

Victus bit the words off, allowing his subvocal tones to express his displeasure with the insult.  “I am not.”

“Don’t try to deny you’re in a relationship with her!  I’ve heard you’re sharing quarters!”

Victus narrowed his eyes, and favored the councilor with an icy glare.  “I am not denying the relationship.  You asked if that relationship affected my decision, and I told you it did not.”

Sparatus sighed, his shoulders slumping.  “Fine, fine.  I cannot argue with your tactical assessment.  If you wish to remain aboard the Normandy, I will withdraw my objection.  Just try to be discreet about being involved with that human.  We will discuss the inappropriateness of that relationship at another -” he was cut off by his door sliding open, the asari receptionist hurrying inside.

“Councilor Sparatus, you really must see-”

“What are you thinking?  Since when do you barge into my meetings and interrupt me?  You can go back out there, and follow proper protocol.”

The receptionist looked nervous, but she didn’t back down.  “Councilor, you’ll want to see this.  You told me to watch for Shepard on the security cams, and I have been.  She hasn’t come near your office, but she was just leaving Councilor Udina’s office, and-”

Again, he cut her off, growling at her until she fell silent.  When she had stopped talking, Sparatus glared at her for a minute.  She trembled slightly, but still met his eyes and held her ground.  Finally, Sparatus huffed out an annoyed breath.

“Well, you’ve interrupted this much, you may as well finish it.  You have 60 seconds to explain what is so very important.”

The asari nodded, and slipped around Sparatus’ desk, activating his terminal.  Sparatus stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest as she typed a few commands in before stepping back.  She gestured to the screen, and Sparatus flicked a glance at it.

He wasn’t sure what he expected to see.  Maybe Commander Shepard meeting with a Cerberus operative, or buying illegal weapons.  He certainly didn’t expect what he saw: Commander Shepard, walking confidently down the hallway, proudly displaying white colony markings identical to Primarch Victus’.

His mandibles clamped tightly against his face with rage, he spun on Victus.  “You dare!  You dare to put those marks on a human?  And not just any human, that human!”  His entire body was trembling with his anger, his subvocal tones nearly drowning out his voice.  “I cannot believe I almost fell for your lies and excuses!  I should never have listened to your rationalizations!  You will not be returning to the Normandy, Primarch.  You will be leaving immediately for Menae.”

Sparatus stabbed a command into his terminal, then spun away, too disgusted to even look at the Primarch.

Victus’ voice was far less controlled now, too, the anger radiating from him and filling the office.  “Commander Shepard is my mate, you will not change that.  However, that fact does not change my tactical assessment.  You may wield power here, Councilor, but everywhere else, I am Primarch.  As soon as I’m off this station, your wishes becomes meaningless.”

Sparatus merely laughed.  “You think I’m unaware of the realities, Primarch?  What, did you think I would be so naive as to place you on a turian vessel, and assume that my orders would be followed?  I haven’t been that careless in years, Primarch.  No, I’m well aware of who holds the loyalty of the military.  Which is why I’ve hired some... outside help.”

The smug grin Sparatus wore was infuriating.  Victus took a threatening step towards him, when the door to the office swished open.  Just as he was starting to turn, the asari receptionist stepped close, and stabbed an injection into his neck.  

The sedative worked quickly; his head spun and his vision blurred until the only thing he could see was Sparatus leaning over him with that smug expression firmly in place.  Sparatus was speaking to someone, but Victus couldn’t make sense of the words; the last thing he heard was the hissing voice of a vorcha before he drifted into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Victus regained consciousness in confusing bits and pieces and flickers of memory.  He had no idea how long he drifted, waiting for the puzzle pieces of his memory to show enough of the picture to give him an idea of where he was.  When he had it, though, his eyes snapped open.

He was lying on a cot, in a brightly lit room that looked like a hastily partitioned corner of a large shipping container.  He couldn’t feel the thrum of engines, so they clearly were either still docked or not yet aboard a ship; the container implied they were in a warehouse.  He waited to let his eyes adjust to the light, then tried to sit up.  He was more than a little surprised to find that he could sit up, and could even stand.  He was not restrained in any way.

The reason he wasn’t restrained became readily apparent as his eyes swept the room.  A large, well armed and armored krogan sat near the door; there was a shotgun in his lap, and his eyes were fixed on Victus.  The final puzzle piece fell into place.

Sparatus’ smug reference to hiring outside help, the hissing voice of a vorcha in Sparatus’ office, and now the krogan.  He was being held by the Blood Pack.

Victus nearly groaned.  The one mercenary group with the most reason to hate turians; he wondered how Sparatus had gotten them to work with him in the first place.  This would not be easy.  Then, Victus’ quickly churning thoughts ground to a halt.  The Blood Pack was made up largely of krogan; they used to have the most reason to hate turians, because of the genophage.  But that was cured now, and if he could convince these mercenaries of that… there might be hope after all.

So instead of doing anything threatening, or anything that would make him seem nervous, Victus sat down on the cot, met the krogan guard’s eyes, and nodded calmly.  This seemed to amuse the guard, who snorted before returning the gesture with a mockingly exaggerated air.

“Are we still on the Citadel?  Who are you?”  Victus gave the expected questions in a calm and unconcerned tone that clearly confused the guard.  When the guard just stared at him, mouth hanging slightly open, Victus continued.  “Do you know who I am?  Do you know what you risk by holding me?  The one who hired you is a traitor to the Hierarchy, you don’t want to be working for him.  How much is he paying you, anyway?

At each question, the guard looked more and more confused and annoyed.  Finally, he spoke.  “It’s not my job to answer your questions, turian,” the krogan spat before turning his attention to his gun.

“Well then, I think that perhaps you should go get someone who is willing to answer questions.”  The comment, though it was phrased as a suggestion, carried all the weight of an order; responding to that tone of command, the guard was already halfway to his feet before his brain caught up with him.  He froze, scowling as he tried to work out what would carry the least embarrassment.  Finally, he decided to finish standing, and go get his commander.  Better to let someone else deal with the annoyingly bossy turian.

As the door opened, Victus leaned over to get a quick look outside.  Definitely a warehouse, it was much too large to be a ship.  Good, he was still on the Citadel, then.

Left alone in the room, Victus did a quick visual scan for surveillance devices.  Seeing none, he did a more active search for anything that could be used as a weapon.  His captors hadn’t been particularly careful - the cot had narrow metal rods to support the middle of the thin mattress.  These made it very uncomfortable for sleeping on, but as they had promise as unexpected weapons.  Pulling two of these out, Victus quickly hid one along the edge of the mattress near the pillow, and the other along the back wall behind the cot where it wouldn’t readily be seen.  Then he sat down again, and waited patiently.

He hadn’t been waiting long when the door swung open to admit his original guard and another krogan, this one with sharper eyes and a larger hump.  Older then, probably the leader of this band of the Blood Pack.  Victus remained seated, his hands open on his knees, showing that he knew how to be a good prisoner.

The new krogan looked him over slowly, then turned to the guard.  

“He doesn’t look so intimidating to me, Woss.  What worried you about him?”  The krogan’s voice was low, the words spoken in a slow drawl.

“H-he was asking questions, sir.”  The guard, Woss, turned to glare at Victus.  “Go on, then!  Don’t just sit there!  Ask your stupid questions!”

“I would prefer to discuss them in private, if you don’t mind.”  This time, Victus kept his voice and his subvocals deliberately neutral; there was no point in antagonizing the leader of these mercs without cause.

Woss snarled, aiming his weapon at Victus’ chest.  “Do you think I’m stupid?  I’m not leaving you along in here with him!  Idiot turian.”

The older krogan chuckled darkly.  “The day I can’t defend myself against a single unarmed turian prisoner is the day I cut off my own quad, Woss.  Go wait outside; you can come rescue me if you hear yelling.”

The door closed behind the glowering guard, and the krogan merc turned to face Victus again, taking a seat in the chair that Woss had occupied previously.

“Well, then.  You have your privacy.  What questions did you wish to ask?”

“I would like to know who I am speaking to, actually.”  

The krogan grunted.  “I am Kordek.  And I already know you are Victus.  What else.”

Victus nodded confirmation.  “Yes, I am Primarch Victus.  Tell me, did you know I was at Tuchanka recently?”

Kordek scowled.  “What were you doing there, turian?”  His voice filled with suspicion, the last word was heavy with menace.

“Helping Urdnot Wrex and Commander Shepard cure the genophage.”  Victus said this in the most nonchalant tone he could manage, and barely kept the smirk from his face.  While “helping” cure the genophage might be a bit of an exaggeration, he had certainly been instrumental in allowing the cure; he didn’t think Kel would mind sharing the credit.

Kordek leapt from the chair with a roar, crossing the room in quick strides to tower over the still-seated Primarch.  “You lie!  Turians would never just cure the genophage!”  

The door slid open on the end of that sentence, and Woss stood gaping in the doorway, shotgun hanging loosely from his hands.  

“Uhh, boss?  Did you just say they cured the genophage?”

Kordek didn’t turn, “Get out, Woss, and keep your mouth shut.”

When the door slid closed on the stunned guard, Kordek glared at Victus.  “Do you have proof of what you claim?”

Victus shrugged slightly.  “Well, I doubt I had any that would convince you, and with my omnitool gone I have even less than that.  You could always call Wrex and ask him.  No?  Perhaps you’ll just have to take my word for it.”  Victus launched into an abbreviated version of the war summit, the Sur’Kesh mission, and the cure.  By the time he finished, Kordek was looking thoughtful.

“That’s one hell of a story, turian.  I’ll even allow that making up a story like that and trying to pass it off as true would take a larger quad than I’ve got.  Still, though, I can’t just take your word for it.”

Victus sighed, his hand sliding towards the pillow.  “I suppose there is one more argument I can make.”  Gripping the end of his makeshift weapon, Victus stood, and threw himself towards Kordek.  One smooth motion had the narrow rod buried in the shoulder joint of the krogan’s armor - deep enough to stay there when Victus just as quickly backed away, but not deep enough to break the skin.  Victus moved around to the far side of the cot, crouching slightly so he could dodge if he needed to.  He fought to keep his voice level, despite the adrenaline triggered by his attack.  “If I wanted you dead, you would be.”

Kordek stood still, staring at the metal rod sticking out of his armor, then back at Victus.  He pulled the rod out, and tossed it on the ground with a heavy sigh.  “This is going to hurt.”

Victus tensed, but when Krodek didn’t move towards him, he asked, “What’s going to hurt?”

The krogan snorted.  “Cutting off my quad, remember?”  He gestured over his shoulder towards the door, indicating Woss.  “Told the welp that if I couldn’t defend against one unarmed prisoner, I’d…”  he trailed off with a wince.  

Victus stared at him for a minute, then laughed.  “Tell you what.  You help me get out of here, and I won’t mention it to anyone.  No cutting required.”

Kordek looked hopeful for a minute, then shook his head.  “I’d like to.  You’re pretty ok for a turian.  But the Councilor paid us, and the Blood Pack doesn’t back out on a job we’ve been paid to do.  I can’t do anything to help you.”

Victus let out a frustrated sigh, his thoughts spinning through the possibilities.  One stood out, and he spoke quickly.  “I don’t need you to do anything, actually.”  He waited for that to sink in, but it clearly wasn’t going to anytime soon.  “What if you didn’t do something, instead?  For example, what if you didn’t remember to pick up your shotgun up when you leave?  And then, what if you didn’t remember to send someone back to guard the door?”  Victus shrugged.  “What if you didn’t realize that leaving only vorcha troops in this area was a bad idea?”

Now Kordek was getting it, a savage grin spreading across his face.  “Good plan, pyjack!”  

He chuckled to himself as he turned, made a rather obvious show of ‘forgetting’ to pick up his shotgun, and left the room.  A moment later, Victus could hear him bellowing orders assigning all available vorcha to cover this area of the warehouse, and all krogan troops to report to the shooting range for practice.

Taking a deep breath, Victus moved silently towards the abandoned shotgun.  Hefting it, he listened carefully at the door.  There was still a good deal of movement out there, but none was right in front of his door; he decided it was probably best to start moving while there was still some confusion.  He retrieved the narrow metal rod that had served him so well already before moving back to the door.  He leaned against the wall next to the door, then opened it, quickly snatching his hand back.  When he didn’t hear anything, he risked a glance around the edge.

The immediate area was empty of troops, but held plenty of shipping containers and boxes to provide cover.  Victus stepped carefully out, shut the door behind him, then sprinted to the farthest crate he thought he could reach before someone came into view.  

Ducking into shelter behind the crate, he knew he was just in time as he heard approaching footsteps.  The two vorcha who were walking towards him weren’t paying much attention to anything, grumbling to each other in their snarling language.  Victus took advantage of their inattention; letting them get past his crate, he rose up behind them.  The first one went down without a sound, his neck snapped by a powerful twist.  The second yelled something, but went down equally easily when Victus stabbed the metal rod from his cot into the creature’s eye.  

No shots, very little noise, even less blood, and two fewer enemies between him and freedom; between him and Kel.  Victus let out a triumphant snarl of his own and kept moving.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Fifteen minutes later, he was cursing.  The warehouse was enormous, and the vorcha troops seemed endless.  While he hadn’t seen any krogan troops - proving that Kordek was upholding his end of the bargain - he was nearly out of heat sinks, and had no idea how to get out of the warehouse.

Another small band of vorcha rounded the end of the container he was resting against.  At least the stupid things had never heard of stealth - between their constant snarling threats and their preference for flamethrowers, Victus was confident they wouldn’t be sneaking up behind him anytime soon.

He hefted the assault rifle he’d found during a hasty search through one of the shipping crates.  Six shots later, the four vorcha lay dead.  He checked the bodies hurriedly, hoping for heatsinks, but found none.  

Victus glanced at the door he’d been avoiding.  It didn’t lead out, that much was clear; it seemed to lead to a medium sized room, and might hold communications equipment or the layout of the warehouse.  Either would help.  Of course, if it was a barracks or break room of some sort, it could easily hold a large quantity of armed mercs.  There was no cover near the door, and he’d decided the risk was too high to be considered if he had other options.  He’d been trying to find his own way out, and all he had to show for it was a rather nice assault rifle and a lot of dead vorcha.  He only had one heat sink left.  He’d have to risk it.

Working his way carefully towards the door, Victus listened for any sounds of pursuit.  The last thing he needed was for more of them to get behind him when he tried that door.  There didn’t seem to be any vorcha left in the vicinity, fortunately, so he made his way over to the door.  It occurred to him, belatedly, that he wouldn’t be able to hack it without his omnitool; the door swished open obligingly, though.

A quick sweep of the room showed it was empty.  Breathing thanks to the spirits, Victus stepped inside, and locked the door behind him.  It would at least slow them down if they tried to corner him.  The room held some equipment lockers and a terminal.  He turned to the lockers first, rifling through them quickly.  No thermal clips, no omnitools.  One held a flamethrower, but without armor Victus was unwilling to get close enough to his enemies to use that effectively.  He pulled it over to the terminal, just in case though.

Sitting at the terminal, he activated the keyboard and swept quickly through the options.  It held some shipping manifests, some records of the group’s business dealings, nothing useful.  One folder caught his eyes - it had Sparatus’ name on it.  He glanced nervously at the door; he’d been stationary too long now, but he had to know how far Sparatus’ connection with the Blood Pack went.  

Just as he opened the file, the door gave an indignant beep - someone was trying to hack the lock.  Victus picked up his rifle and crossed the room, wedging himself between the last locker and the wall.  It wasn’t full cover, but at least it was something.  Lining up a shot on the middle of the door, he waited.

Chapter Text

Commander Shepard stamped her feet all the way back to the Normandy.  She knew it was childish, but she couldn’t help herself.  Damned asari couldn’t even follow their own rules.  Rules that had been made “for the good of the galaxy,” which they had no intention of following.  Rules they knew they had no intention of following.  And as if that weren’t bad enough, they waited until the last minute to offer their aid.  While asking for help, of course.

She was fed up with the whole politics game, really.  She would rather go fight reapers than play around with making alliances and talking people into helping.  

Shepard realised that most of her frustration had nothing to do with the asari counselor, and everything to do with Adrien, but it was easier to be mad at the asari for their shortsightedness than it was to be mad at Adrien for seeing the big picture.  Maybe he was just going to put Sparatus in his place, instead of agreeing with him.

She was almost back to the Normandy when her omnitool beeped with an incoming message.  She glanced at it, then froze.  It was from Adrien.  Trembling slightly, she opened it.

Shepard,

I am writing to inform you that I will no longer be traveling with the Normandy.  It is not in the best interests of the turian military strategy and operations for me to remain aboard.  I will be returning to Menae and assuming direct command of our forces.

Further, I am hereby dissolving our personal association.  I have always known that a personal relationship between us was ill-advised, and I should not have allowed it to progress so far.  Having received advice from a trusted counselor, I can see that my actions were not honorable.

I would appreciate it if you would respect my wishes in this matter.  Do not attempt to contact me again.

Sincerely,

Primarch Adrien Victus

Her eyes narrowed to furious slits, Shepard stormed onto the Normandy.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Garrus hated resupply duty.  It was boring and frustrating at the same time.  Nothing to do but watch incompetent workers lug crates around; and point out, over and over, that if they would just stack crates holding similar supplies next to each other, they wouldn’t make any extra work for themselves, and they would make things easier for the crew.  Fools.

Joker had said Shepard was planning on taking over as soon as she finished meeting with the asari counselor.  Since Tevos had been so determinedly useless until now, he hadn’t expected Shepard to return in a cheerful mood.  It was still a surprise when she stormed over to him, though.  He hadn’t expected her to be that angry.   

He opened his mouth to ask what had happened when she flashed her omnitool at him and snapped, “Read that!”

Garrus caught her arm to steady it, and quickly scanned the message.  By the time he reached the end, he was almost as angry as she was.

“How could he?  And like this!  What is that fool thinking?”

Shepard looked at him, eyebrows raised in surprise.  His anger had the effect of cooling hers.  “Umm, Garrus, it’s not from Adrien.”

“What?!”  He yelled it, causing the worker nearest to them to drop his crate in surprise.

Shepard knocked gently on the front of his armor to catch his attention.  “Adrien never calls me ‘Shepard,’ he calls me by my name.  He didn’t send this.  The message was sent from his omnitool, which I can’t imagine he gave to Sparatus willingly.  I think Sparatus took his omnitool and sent this message.  Sparatus doesn’t use my first name; if he thought about it at all, he was probably hoping that I would be too angry or hurt to catch the difference.  We need to figure out what’s going on.”

Garrus thought it through, and nodded.  “Armor, then.  And weapons.  Call Bailey, get him to ok it.  Get changed.  Who else do you want?”

Shepard nodded.  “Javik.  If Sparatus won’t cooperate, we’ll do it the other way.”  She grinned fiercely, and Garrus chuckled.  Sparatus’ lies wouldn’t hold water around the prothean and his ability to ‘read’ his surroundings.

“Fine then, I’ll call him while you deal with Bailey.  Fifteen minutes, Shepard.”

She was already on her way to the elevator, but she called over her shoulder, “Ten.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Sparatus’ secretary was nervous, but immovable when she told them the Councilor wasn’t available.  When Garrus drew his pistol and pointed it at her head, Shepard simply stepped around her desk and hacked the Councilor’s door; the asari didn’t make any objection.

Sparatus was sitting calmly at his desk, completely unsurprised to see her.  No doubt he’d been watching the security feeds.  His face was set in a blandly polite mask, his voice a controlled, even pitch.  He had less control over his subvocals, which hummed with surprise and trepidation at the look on the faces of his well-armed guests.

“Commander Shepard.  To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

Shepard’s tone was not nearly as controlled as his; she was still seething and didn’t even try to sound calm and reasonable.  “I want to see Adrien.  Now.”

He was surprised by the anger in her voice, even more so by the threat that lay beneath it.  He hadn’t expected this reaction.  “I apologize, Commander, I can’t do that.  Primarch Victus made it clear to me that he did not wish to speak with you.  He said he would be sending you a message to that effect… perhaps you did not receive it?”

Shepard ignored the question, and the implication that preventing her from seeing Victus was due to the Primarch’s own wishes.  “Councilor Sparatus.  You have always been a damned nuisance, but your current path is leading you dangerously close to the category of ‘enemy.’  You do not want to be in that category.  Last chance.  Where.  Is.  Adrien?”

Sparatus shifted nervously.  He was well aware that he didn’t want her to consider him an enemy.  This plan was so much easier when he was making threats over a vidcomm; with the parties in question actually present, it was rapidly spinning out of control.  He hadn’t expected Shepard to be so… attached… to Victus; he’d thought she would give up when she received that message.  But he was committed now.

Wondering if it would be the last thing he did, Sparatus pulled a pistol from the concealed cubby in his desk, pointing it in Shepard’s direction, but not directly at her.  “I told you.  He does not wish to see you.  Now leave.”  

Vakarian had his weapon out and pointed directly at the Councilor’s chest almost before he was finished speaking.  Shepard held out a hand telling him to wait, and flicked a look at the other member of their party.

Javik nodded, and knelt, touching the floor.  He was silent for a moment, then stood, shooting a disgusted look at Sparatus.  “They drugged him, and that one hired the Blood Pack to transport him to Menae.  Your Victus turian had insisted that he would never leave the Normandy; that one was angry when he found out about your relationship.  The Blood Pack ship will be leaving in a few hours; that one has told them to be vigilant, but not to harm your Victus turian.”

Sparatus stared as Shepard leveled a dangerous look at him.  “You should know, that order is the only reason you will be alive when I leave this room.  But if for some reason, the Blood Pack chose not to follow it - or if perhaps they receive a different order after I leave - I will be back to change that.  Are we clear?”  

Sparatus just nodded, unable to find his voice under the heat of her gaze.  He sat frozen as Shepard and her team left; and it was quite some time after the doors had closed behind them until he drew a breath that didn’t shake.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Javik had managed to get the general location of the Blood Pack’s warehouse base; a quick call to Bailey narrowed it down.  Less than ten minutes later, Shepard and her team were standing outside the warehouse, pausing for one last weapon’s check.

When she glanced at her team and received nods in return, Shepard stepped up to the warehouse door and hacked the lock.  The door slid open, and a quick check showed no one inside.  The squad entered, and quickly found cover.  Pulling up the map of the warehouse that Bailey had dug up for them, Shepard decided on the most likely direction, and headed towards it.

The warehouse was eerily silent and empty.  The team moved quickly but cautiously, ducking from cover to cover, as they listened for enemy movement; frequently checking their omnitools for heat signatures that would mean hidden guards.  Finally, they found one.

Shepard held her hand up, silently commanding everyone to hold position.  She pointed to her omnitool, then to Garrus.  When he checked his own, he nodded, stalking silently towards the stationary heat source.  A few tense minutes passed before he waved an all clear.  Shepard and Javik hurried up to him, and found him examining two dead vorcha.  One with a broken neck, one with a metal rod through it’s eye socket.  Both killed recently enough that they were still giving off enough heat to be caught by their sensors.

Shepard met Garrus’ gaze, and grinned.  “He’s free, somehow.  Let’s go.”

They made their way through the warehouse, following a meandering trail of dead vorcha.  Shepard had to admit that she was impressed by the sheer body count, even though Adrien didn’t seem to be headed for an exit.  Just as she was about to ask Javik if he could try to figure out what Adrien was up to, Garrus clicked a warning; a quick hand gesture had them all diving into cover.

Shepard moved cautiously up to where Garrus was, and he pointed further ahead.  A large group of vorcha was trying to hack a door, and making a poor job of it.  They would get it eventually though.  The fact that the door was locked against them, in their own base, was an excellent argument that the room held Adrien; and the vorcha sounded angry.  Just as she was about to send Garrus to a better vantage point to start picking them off, the lock turned green and the door started to slide open.

Shepard cast a quick glance at her team.  “Time for some thrilling heroics.” Standing smoothly, she aimed and fired, taking down one vorcha and sending the rest scattering to cover with curses as they turned to face the enemy at their backs.  Answering shots came from inside the room, but the vorcha were too disorganized to do anything about them.

There wasn’t any cover worth the name between Shepard’s location and the door; the vorcha were quickly taken care of.  When there were no more vorcha standing, Shepard walked cautiously towards the door.

“Adrien?  Are you alright?”

When he stepped out from behind the row of lockers, she grinned and threw herself at him.  He wrapped his arms around her, armor and all, and sighed with relief.

“You have excellent timing, Kel.  How did you know?”

She grinned at him.  “I got a letter from you that clearly wasn’t from you.  Went to talk to Sparatus.  Javik worked his magic, and here we are.”  She paused to consider, then added, “I may have threatened Sparatus.  A bit.”  

He ran his eyes over her, then over Vakarian and Javik as they approached; all wore armor and carried several guns.  He chuckled.  “I can imagine.  Is he still breathing?”

She tried to look offended by the implication.  “Of course!  I figured I’d let you deal with him.”

Victus snorted.  “Lucky me.  Lets go, I’ll deal with him when I’m safely back on the Normandy.  I don’t need any more adventures.”

Shepard smiled and turned towards the door.  “You did an excellent job of clearing the warehouse, Adrien.  But I only saw vorcha.  Doesn’t Blood Pack usually have krogan, too?”

“Yes, well, I believe they’re otherwise occupied at the moment.”  At her confused glance, he spread his mandibles in a smug grin.  “Practice range.  I guess their aim needed some work.”

Shepard laughed and Garrus gave an amused snort.  “I’m sure you’ll be happy to explain how you managed that, Primarch.  I’m beginning to think you didn’t need a rescue after all.”

“Not at all, but I suppose the practice was good for you, Vakarian.  Wouldn’t want your skills to get rusty on this plum assignment, would we?”

Shepard rolled her eyes, but stayed quiet, happy to listen to their banter as they made their way back to the Normandy.  Back home.

Chapter Text

When they reached the Normandy, Shepard stopped just inside the airlock, waiting for Garrus and Javik to make their way towards the elevator.  She took a slow breath before looking up at Adrien, keeping her voice steady.

“Will you be contacting Councilor Sparatus on the vidcomm?  If you want to go back in person, I can send an escort with you.”

Adrien laughed.  “I’ll contact him on the vidcomm, no reason to kick the hornet’s nest by going back in person.  I have a couple of calls to make before I talk to Sparatus, though.”  

He sobered quickly at her hesitant tone.  “Will you… come to the loft later?”  She rushed over the last few words.

He growled, keeping it low, but making sure she could hear it.  His hands landed on her shoulders, and he pulled her back into the relative privacy of the airlock before he backed her against the wall; he stepped close, using his superior size to pin her against the wall as he loomed over her.  

He ran one talon slowly over the white markings on her face, watching her eyes widen as her breath quickened.  When he’d traced the lines, he bent low enough to speak directly into her ear, his mandible flicking lightly against her cheek.  

“No.  I will be returning to our quarters when I finish in the war room.  I will expect you to be there.”

He didn’t wait for a response, just turned and walked briskly towards the security checkpoint.  When he got to the doors, he turned back to look at her; she was standing where he’d left her, cheeks flushed and a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Even though he was docked at the Citadel, and calling a Citadel number, his vidcomm call to Sparatus’ office took longer to connect than it had when he had contacted a ship in a completely different system.  He had no doubt that the delay represented the time Sparatus spent trying to avoid the call.

When the call finally connected, Sparatus’ hologram stood before him wearing a neutral expression.

“Primarch Victus.  To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

Victus nearly lost his own carefully neutral expression in the face of such gall.  But, if that was the way Sparatus wanted to play it, he was game.

“I was calling to offer my congratulations to you, Sparatus.”

The councilor’s mandibles drooped in shock; now that Sparatus had lost his calm mask, Victus dropped his own, allowing a predatory grin to take it’s place.

“Congratulations?  I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I am fully aware that you managed to abandon the escort I provided for you; if you’re calling to gloat then get it over with.”  Sparatus’ subvocal tones were fluctuating wildly with uncertainty.

“I have no need to gloat.  The short detour your ‘escort’ provided was brief and entirely pointless.  I am indeed calling to congratulate you.  Since you take our war effort so very seriously, I’ve arranged for you to take a more active role in it.  The cruiser Defiant will be docking with the Citadel in a few hours for supplies; you have been drafted to serve as their new mess sergeant.  I expect that a turian with your experience and desire to assist the war effort will serve with honor.”

Sparatus’ mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to speak, and couldn’t.  Finally, he managed, “You can’t do this!  Our people need a representative on the Council!  In times of turmoil such as these, it is even more important that the Hierarchy has a voice in galactic politics!”

Victus nodded his agreement to these statements.  “I’m pleased with your dedication to the good of the Hierarchy, Sergeant.  I am as well, which is why I’ve appointed Quentius to be our representative on the Council.  I believe that his willingness to consider several different sides of the issues before us will be a great asset.  

“Now, you don’t need to worry about your things, everything you need for your new post will be provided when you board the Defiant.  As far as your personal belongings on the Citadel, Councilor Quentius will be bringing several aides with him, and has volunteered to make sure that your property is inventoried and packed into storage.  When your service aboard the Defiant is complete, you may retrieve your things in person, or have them shipped to your new home.

“And, just in case you were concerned about your safety in this time of transition, I have arranged for you to have several bodyguards.  They will remain with you at all times, and will escort you personally to the Defiant.”

Even over the vidcomm, Victus could tell when Sparatus’ office door slid open because he could hear the asari receptionist shouting shrilly.  The look on Sparatus’ face was almost worth the annoyance he had caused.  Victus smiled as Sparatus was shoved aside, and the hologram of an armored krogan took his place.

“Ah, Kordek, it’s nice to see you again.”

The krogan grunted.  “You’re a force of nature, pyjack.  I’ll be cleaning that base for weeks.  Who would have thought that one turian could take out so many vorcha?  I’m pleased to accept your contract to guard our friend here, and escort him to his ship.  Military service is an honorable thing.  And he needs all the help he can get.”

Victus chuckled.  “Indeed he does.  Do try not to destroy everything, the new turian councilor will be arriving soon.  I’ve already wired your payment in full.  Please pass my final congratulations along to Sergeant Sparatus, won’t you?  Have a pleasant day, Kordek.”

Terminating the vidcomm connection, Victus allowed a satisfied smile to spread across his face.  That had been enjoyable.  His next task was likely to be more dangerous, though.  

Turning his back on the silent comm room, he made his way to the elevator.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Shepard had indeed headed directly for their quarters when Adrien disappeared into the war room.  She’d used the time alone to wash and change, then sat at her terminal and tried to focus on work.  she’d already contacted Joker, as soon as everyone was back on board, he’d be setting their course for Thesia.  

It wasn’t a long jump, but there was definitely time to deal with Adrien before they arrived.  She had been relieved by his behavior when they were back aboard the Normandy, he clearly expected to work things out between them.  She still didn’t know if he intended to remain, or if Sparatus’ arguments - if not his methods - had swayed him.

By the time Adrien returned to their quarters, she was pacing.  Arms folded tightly across her chest, she had covered the distance from aquarium to the nightstand enough times that she was surprised the carpet wasn’t showing signs of wear.  She was humming softly to herself; Adrien’s habits rubbing off on her.

She wasn’t the only one picking up habits; Adrien stopped her agitated pacing by placing himself firmly in her path.

“I’m not leaving.  I never had any intention of leaving, I just needed to figure out how to neutralize Sparatus’ threats.  And I didn’t talk to you about it because I thought you’d try to talk me into leaving, if you thought it was best for the war effort.”

Kel stared at him.  He clearly knew her too well; those were the precise issues - in the exact order - that she’d been worrying about.  She also probably would have encouraged him to leave if it had seemed to be the best choice for their success in this war.  She narrowed her eyes at him, he’d stopped her arguments before she could voice them; he’d even had the right answers.  There was only one thing she had left to be annoyed about; it was a small thing, but since it was the only one left, she decided to give it her full attention.

“You left without a word!  With no plan in case things didn’t go well.  How did you expect any sort of assistance if no one knew where you were?”

The look he gave her said clearly that he saw right through her, but he answered her gamely.  “What do you mean?  Of course I had a plan in case everything went sideways.”

She glared, certain now that she was walking into a trap, but no more willing to retreat than if she’d been turian born.  “Oh?  And what was it, exactly?  No one seemed to know about it.”

“Oh, everyone knows about it.  It’s really quite simple.”  He stepped close and leaned down, pressing his forehead to hers; his hands came up to hold her face, his golden eyes never leaving hers.  “I chose the most competent, resourceful, beautiful, amazing woman in the galaxy as my mate.  What could possibly stand against that?”

Kel snorted with amusement, but her eyes shone at the compliment.  She slid her arms around his waist and leaned into his touch.  “As long as you’re with me?  Nothing.”

Chapter Text

Everything started to change, after Thessia.  He saw less and less of Kel, and more of Commander Shepard.

Adrien had always been aware of the two sides to his mate’s nature.  The cool, competent Alliance Commander; and the fun, thoughtful, caring woman.  He hadn’t realized what a rare thing it was to have met Kel instead of Commander Shepard.  

The Council had gotten Commander Shepard, but it was Kel who went to that deserted park to yell insults at the tower.  It was Kel who’d remembered a turian general she’d met once three years ago, and agreed to have lunch with him.  It was Kel who had followed him back to his apartment; Kel who had ruined his ability to wait mindlessly in elevators; and Kel who had spent an amazing night in his arms, in his heart.

He’d spoken with Joker once, and discovered just how rare it was that he’d seen Kel following the Bahak incident.  Even her crew and closest friends had only gotten Commander Shepard: focused on what needed to be done; calmly performing her duty, then tying up loose ends and turning herself over for court martial.  

Over the course of their travels on the Normandy, he’d watched her slip easily between the two roles.  It was Commander Shepard who shouted down both himself and Wrex; it was Kel who agreed to help them with their private concerns.  It was Commander Shepard who rescued the survivors of the turian platoon; it was Kel who tricked him into having dinner with his son.  Commander Shepard had cured the genophage; Kel had woken up from nightmares she shared only with him.

After Thessia, it got harder and harder to find Kel.  Commander Shepard was awake at all hours, going over the ship at all hours, talking to anyone who needed her attention.  It was Commander Shepard who comforted Liara when no one knew what to say to her; Commander Shepard who decided to follow the only lead they had, and bring the fight to Cerberus.

It had been Kel who wept in his arms over the loss of Thessia, and the bravery of the asari commandos who got them to the temple; it had been Kel who blamed herself for Cerberus’ theft of the vital information.  That was the last time she allowed him to see her weakness; from then on, she drove herself so hard that he was afraid she’d lose sight of Kel altogether.

After Horizon, he was pretty sure she was gone for good, and it worried him.  

Turians told their children tales of great war heroes, real and mythical; one of the most popular tales was of a General who fought in a great war, leading his soldiers through all kinds of traps and dangers, until they stood on the precipice of a battle that could not be won.  Outnumbered, in a poor position, and without provisions, it was clear their fight was over.  Until that one General took the field alone.  Finding a defensible pass, he drew the enemy to himself, and fought them, one by one until the entire enemy army lay dead.  

A glorious tale, one Adrien had loved as a child; it wasn’t until he was older that the rest of it sank in.  

The story said that, as the general fought, he became insubstantial.  His soldiers, watching the battle from hidden positions, had reported that the longer he fought, the less solid he was.  They said that, as the battle went on, he seemed to be their cause, and not a mortal being at all; the last few enemies could barely see him in order to defend themselves, until finally as the last enemy fell, he disappeared.  Of course, their claims had been dismissed, but no matter how carefully the battlefield was searched, his body was never found.

The story said that as he fought, the General came to embody what he was fighting for; that he struck a deal with the spirits and gave up his soul in return for the ability to win the war and protect those he was sworn to defend.  It worked, but at what cost?

The last part of the story had haunted Adrien for a few years, until he grew old enough to dismiss it as story teller’s nonsense.  But here, he could at least see how the story tellers had come up with the idea.  Here, he could see Kel taking all the responsibility for the survival of the galaxy on her shoulders; here, he could see her losing herself in favor of accomplishing her goal.  

It worried him; it brought up the old thoughts of a warrior just fading away right in front of the people he was defending, until nothing was left but a story.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Garrus told him later that he saw flashes of Kel as they fought their way through Cerberus’ headquarters.  As they discovered the depths of the Illusive Man’s manipulation, and when they finally killed Kai Leng, there had been glimpses of Kel behind the Commander Shepard facade.  

It hadn’t lasted long, though.  By the time she returned to the Normandy, the mask was firmly back in place.  Adrien expected her to return to their quarters after she gave the order to set course for Earth; he knew that she would have nightmares when she slept, so he brought his own work up to the loft, planning on working from there until she had gotten some sleep.

Apparently, Shepard was also aware that the nightmares would plague her; she solved the problem by avoiding sleep.  When they were an hour out from the Sol relay, she called him to come to the war room.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

When Adrien walked into the war room, Shepard was leaning on the center console, staring at a tactical hologram of the Sol system.  At his entrance, she met his eyes and nodded, then jerked her chin towards the display.

“Do you see what I’m seeing?”

Adrien walked over to her, setting his hand lightly on the small of her back before turning his attention to the hologram.   She leaned into his touch briefly, but otherwise kept her attention on the display; reluctantly, he gave it his full attention as well.

There were holographic symbols denoting ships from all the races that she had convinced to help them; even together, they were outnumbered by the red reaper symbols.  Adrien glanced at her, then looked at the projection again; as what he was seeing penetrated, he snorted.

“Even after all this, they still set up perimeters?  We’re allies in the biggest war ever fought, and they’re out there dividing up space?”  

Sure enough, the brightly colored symbols were keeping themselves bunched together.  Alliance here, turians there; quarians and asari and geth all keeping strictly separate.  He looked over at Shepard.

“They’ll never win like that.  It’s bad tactics, to say nothing about morale.  Who do you think did this?”

She sighed, pushing away from the console to pace.  “I doubt it was on anyone’s direct order.  Just… no one thought to give orders to the contrary, so that’s what happened.  Fools.  We all have different strengths and weaknesses, this just emphasizes them.  I have a solution, but I’m waiting to talk to Admiral Hackett.”

Just then, Traynor’s smooth voice announced that Admiral Hackett was available on the vidcomm.  Grinning, Shepard waved for him to follow as she made her way into the comm room.

“Commander, I’m glad you’re here.  What do you think?”

“Honestly, Admiral, I’m concerned.  I don’t like the way the fleets are separated out there, it’s just inviting the Reapers to pick on everyone’s weak spots.  Primarch Victus is here, and he shares my concerns.”

Hackett nodded.  “I am aware, Commander, but I’ve had a hell of a time counteracting it.  Everyone swears they’re following orders; and if I spread our fleet out evenly, we’re too few to make a difference without the cooperation of the other races.  You got them here, Commander; but I don’t know if anything can make them work together.”

“I did have an idea, Admiral.”

She caught Hackett’s wry grin before he hid it.  “I felt sure you would, Commander.  Let’s hear it.”

“I’m assuming that this isn’t the result of any direct order; I know for sure that the Alliance vessels weren’t given such an order, and the Primarch will confirm that the turians weren’t either.  I’ll be leaving the Normandy as soon as we reach Earth; instead of having her join the front lines, I would like to leave Primarch Victus in command.  He needs a flagship anyway, to direct his forces; but mainly, having the Normandy be the first to cross those barriers would be a symbolic gesture as well.  She’s already a symbol of what humans and turians can achieve working together, this would just build on that.”

Hackett was silent for several moments, one hand rubbing his chin as he thought.  Finally, he nodded firmly.  “I like it, Commander.  Primarch Victus, I imagine you agree?”

Adrien stepped closer to Shepard’s side, and gave a single nod of his own.  “I do, Admiral.”

“Alright, then, Commander, we’ll do it your way.  Now, lets talk about the plan when you’re on the ground.”

Chapter Text

In just over half an hour, the ground team would be leaving the Normandy.  Adrien left the war room and headed back to the quarters he shared with Kel.  He knew she would be there, getting ready; he didn’t know what to expect, though.  Despite his best efforts, the distance between them had grown as she focused more and more on the mission ahead.

So it came as a complete surprise that as soon as he walked in the door to their quarters, he was caught, and pushed against the wall.  His hands came up automatically to rest on Kel’s hips as she pressed against him, her arms tight around his neck, her mouth frantic against his.  He felt her trembling, and knew it wasn’t due to desire.

He brought his hands up to frame her face, his fingers threading through her hair.  Keeping his movements slow, he pulled away far enough to look at her.  When her eyes met his, he could see the turmoil in them.  He brushed his fingers lightly over her cheekbones, tracing her colony marks from her nose outwards; under her eyes, up towards her temples, and back again.  As she relaxed into his touch, he leaned forward, tracing the lines along her jaw with his teeth and tongue in long licks and gentle nips.

When he stopped, and pressed his forehead lightly against hers, she smiled; he counted it as a victory almost as important as beating the reapers.

When she drew a deep breath, and leaned back, he could see the words forming on her lips.  He knew she was bracing herself to tell him things he didn’t want to hear: “good bye,” and “if I don’t come back.”  So instead, he spoke, his tone deliberately light.

“Don’t worry, I know what you’re going to say.”  When she just raised an eyebrow at him, he continued, “Well, perhaps not exactly, but I can just imagine the dire threats of pain, death, and torture if I get even a scratch on your ship.  Does that about cover it?”

Kel laughed, leaning against him gratefully.  “Yes, that’s about it.  Take care of Joker for me, too, please.”

“Done.”  He let her go then, and she moved back down toward the armor rack, methodically donning each piece.  Adrien watched her silently, leaning against the wall by the fish tank.  When she turned back to him, she was wearing a bright smile that was almost convincing.

She walked towards him, and even if her smile wasn’t convincing, her steps were firm.  Determined.  He caught her hand when she stepped next to him, pulling her around until she faced him, and setting his hands firmly on her shoulders.

“I know you can’t take orders worth crap, Commander, but you’d better listen to this one.  Come back to me.  I don’t care what else happens.  We win, the reapers win, it doesn’t matter.  I don’t care.  No matter what else happens.  You.  Come.  Back.  To me.”  She opened her mouth, and he saw the objections in her eyes.  He set one taloned finger over her lips, silencing her.  “No arguing.  No matter what else happens, none of it will mean anything if you aren’t with me.  So make sure you come back.”

He kissed her then, with all the ferocity he’d soothed out of her just a few minutes earlier.  When the comm chimed to let her know that it was time to go, he released her, turning her gently towards the door.  “That’s an order, Commander.”

She smiled over her shoulder, and left.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Victus stood in the Normandy’s cockpit, half his attention on the battle raging out the view port, and half on the information scrolling down the screen on his left.  

He was quite ready to admit that Joker was the best pilot he’d ever seen.  The way the Normandy swooped and sidled through the battle was nothing short of amazing.  He hardly needed to give specific orders at all; he gave the pilot a goal, and somehow, the Normandy got there.  If he didn’t think Kel would kill him - slowly - he’d try to recruit Joker into the turian military after this was over.

He’d been listening to the comm chatter, keeping up to date while trying not to think too much about what it meant.  The resistance that the hammer teams were facing, the changing plans as one route after another was compromised, weren’t important to his battle strategy beyond the fact that they postponed the moment when the Crucible would be deployed and the battle would - hopefully - be over.  

A small part of his mind insisted on listening for every mention of Commander Shepard and her ground team, or the rare events when her own voice was heard over the comm.  He knew she preferred to keep to the team’s private channel, instead of the general one, but that small part of his mind cherished every word she spoke over the open comm; committing them to memory against the unthinkable moment in which the voice which had become so dear to him would be silenced forever.

When he heard her voice frantically calling for medevac, he didn’t even need to give the order; Joker was already taking the Normandy down, dodging the storm of fire and deadly reaper beams to land practically on top of her.  The wounded ground team was brought aboard; he allowed himself the smallest sliver of hope that she would come with them, that she would decide this approach was too dangerous, and find another way.  Even as he thought it, he knew it was impossible; she wouldn’t be Kel, wouldn’t be Commander Shepard, if she gave up.  

Even if she had orders to.  She couldn’t take orders worth crap, after all.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Three options, the Catalyst had told her.  Three options, and the choice was hers.  But as Commander Shepard stood there, trying to think through the haze of pain, she knew there was only one choice.  There had always only been one choice.  She didn’t have the ego to support either of the other options; she had only been given one order through all the twisted paths that led to this point in time, and she was going to follow it.

Turning away from the Catalyst, she started down the ramp.

It was a long walk, and every step was agony.  She could feel the energy draining out of her, but she had to finish this.  With the determination that had gotten her through so many bad situations in the past, she set her eyes on her goal, and stopped paying attention to the difficulty of getting there.  Instead, she let her thoughts drift towards her friends.

Mordin.  I understand what you mean.  Someone else might have gotten it wrong.  Hopefully, I’ll be able to help you look for those seashells soon.  I don’t think I’ll understand anything about your tests, but I’ll enjoy listening.

Thane.  I got that bastard assassin for you.  I hope you’ve found peace with your Irikah.  

Ash.  I hope you didn’t mind the wait, it’s been awhile.

She’d reached the ramp, and turned to her right to follow it up to the next walkway.  Her steps were dragging, her breath rasping in her throat, but she pushed on; stubbornly turning her mind away from pain, weariness, distance, difficulty, all the things that would convince her to stop, to give up.

EDI.  I’m so sorry, EDI.  I’m glad we had that last chat; I hope you told Joker.  I know it won’t really make this easier for him, but he should know you love him enough to give your life for his.  Maybe, maybe we’ll be able to bring you back.  I don’t trust this stupid Catalyst thing, and anyway, you started off as a human creation, what’s stopping us from doing it again?  I’ll hope, anyway.

Legion.  I know you made the decision to sacrifice yourself for the geth; I hope you’ll understand the decision I made to sacrifice the geth for the rest of the galaxy.  I’m sorry, I would have liked to see what the geth would become.  We’ve got Tali, though, if anyone can recreate the geth, it’s her.  

She was on the final walkway now, close to the goal.  Raising her pistol, she started firing, and hoped her aim was somehow better than her blurring vision.

Anderson.  I know you don’t blame me, but I’m glad I don’t have to live with what I did to you.  You were always there for me, you always believed in me.  Thank you.

At least some of her shots must have landed, a few small explosions sent waves of heat washing over her.

Adrien.  I’m sorry.  I really can’t take orders worth crap, you know.  I love you.

Then, everything dissolved into a bright ball of fire, and she knew nothing more.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

As soon as the order to pull back to the rendezvous point came through, Victus’ eyes snapped to the comm, then to the scans of the crucible.  There was a massive energy surge underway on the crucible, and it looked like it was just starting.  The comm remained stubbornly silent.

Joker keyed in the coordinates for the rendezvous, then paused, looking back over his shoulder at the Primarch.  Garrus had escaped med bay, despite Doctor Chakwas’ orders, and stood just inside the cockpit; he too looked to the Primarch.

When Victus remained silent, his eyes glued to the readouts, Garrus stepped forward and set a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen, Primarch.  We have to go.”

Victus shook his hand off, stabbing one finger at the screen.

“Look at that readout.  Tell me what you see.”

Garrus looked, then shrugged slightly.  “A huge energy buildup.  The crucible is about to fire.”  He paused, then added, “Shepard did it.”

Victus shook his head, flicking a few commands on the console.  “Not that, look at it.  Where have you seen an energy spike like that before?”

Now Garrus frowned, sharing a quick glance with an equally confused Joker.  “It’s similar to the energy signature of a mass relay activating.  Bigger though.”

Victus nodded.  “It is.  Do you have any idea what will happen if a second energy surge like that is activated at the same time?  I don’t pretend to understand how the relays work, but I was pretty clear on what happens when they don’t work.  We could get kicked to the next relay, or the far end of the galaxy, or anywhere in between.  Or everywhere in between, in pretty little pieces.  No.  Joker, belay the Admiral’s order.  Take us out; get Earth between us and the crucible.  EDI, send these readings to Hackett, he can decide what to do with the rest of the fleet.”

Joker turned back to his board, changing course and taking them away from the crucible and the relay, around the slowly spinning planet below them.  He was slightly surprised when Admiral Hackett agreed with the Primarch’s assessment, and ordered the rest of the fleet to stay away from the relay, and out of the direct line between the relay and the crucible.

Then, the red energy shot out from the crucible, enveloping the planet below and the reapers still in orbit.  A second beam of energy shot towards the relay, activating it; as the crew all watched the monitors, seeing the relay spinning crazily before dissolving, not a few of them shot impressed glances at the Primarch.

And the reapers just stopped.  Inertia kept them moving, but it was obvious that they weren’t active anymore.  A few crashed into each other, prompting muffled cheers from the observers.

In the flood of euphoria that followed the realization that they’d actually done it - they’d actually beaten the reapers - it took Joker several long moments to notice that EDI was strangely silent.  He looked over at her, a wide grin lighting his face, certain he was about to answer a question about how organics celebrated victory.

When he saw EDI’s platform slouched motionlessly in her chair, his grin slowly faded.

Chapter Text

They’d landed the Normandy as close to the site of the beam as they could.  All able bodied crew had been dismissed to assist with search and rescue operations.  Despite Garrus’ insistence that not only would he be more useful commanding what was left of the turian fleet, but that he wasn’t going to find anything anyway, Adrien insisted on joining them.

They’d searched until the light died; then, someone had found floodlights, and they’d searched through the night.  Now, with the slowly growing light of a new day falling on the rubble, Garrus was once again pressing his case.

Finally, Adrien snapped at him, spun, and stalked off into the ruins alone.  He knew he wouldn’t find her, she’d been on the Citadel, and it was currently drifting in pieces in orbit; besides, she couldn’t follow orders worth crap.  But he had to keep trying.  

He’d stalked off into an area the search teams hadn’t started on yet.  The chunks of ruined buildings attracting him because they looked different from the ones around them.  Some newer style buildings, perhaps, built after the humans joined the rest of the galactic community?  The materials were different, and what could be seen of the shape of the buildings was also different.  Sighing at the useless details, he resumed searching.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Shepard woke with a gasp, the first thing she noticed was the pain.  Pain everywhere, pain constantly.  She opened her eyes, and tried to look around.  Moving hurt too much.  She tried moving just her eyes, and that hurt too much too.  It was dark, she could see bits and pieces of rubble, and a patch of sky and stars.  

She stared at the stars, wondering which constellations they were part of, and why everything hurt so much.  Her thoughts drifted aimlessly, until she shook her head, the stab of pain jolting her back into full consciousness.  She couldn’t drift like that; it meant she was going into shock, and no one would ever find her if that happened.  She had to stay awake and alert until someone found her.  Silence was her enemy now, and Shepard was knew how to deal with enemies.

She tried shouting for help, but that was too repetitive, and too rough on her throat.  She’d be worn out before anyone had a hope of looking for her.

She started trying to recite military regulations from memory.  There were too many, and they were too intricate.  About the time she started wondering if the regs against fraternization were chapter 3, paragraph 12, or chapter 12, paragraph 3, she realized she was drifting again.  Another head shake solved that problem.

She started counting.  That was too simple, the numbers fell into a chant, the chant drifted slowly into silence.  Another movement, another jolt of pain.  She was running out of ideas.

Her thoughts turned toward Adrien, and she had a solution.  With a grim smile, she started thinking up swear words.  She said a word in common, then translated it into turian; then she translated it into salarian, into quarian, into asari, and into krogan.  There were only a few that she knew in the volus, hanar, and elcor languages, so for awhile she went through those, then started back with words in common.  

A steady stream of foul language and insults in a variety of languages rose up into the slowly brightening sky, occasionally accompanied by tired chuckles.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Adrien had been wandering through the rubble for almost two hours before he realized why it looked different than the rest of the London buildings lying in pieces around him.  These were Citadel buildings.  If he looked closely enough, he could see the graceful sweep of the Presidium shops; the tall supporting columns, now in pieces, of the high rise apartment buildings.  When he saw a surprisingly intact archway that reminded him of the bridge where he’d run into Kel a second time, he dropped to his knees, keening quietly.  He was never going to find her.

When his immediate grief passed, he fell silent, his eyes fixed on the archway.  Slowly, he became aware of a new sound.  It was a voice, rough and broken, and swearing in turian.  No, in asari.  Adrien scowled at his omnitool, the last thing he needed was for it to fail now.  As he was fiddling with it, the curses started again, this time in salarian.  And then he got it.

In seconds, he was shouting for Garrus, for Liara, for anyone to come help him, as he climbed quickly over the rubble in search of that voice.  Suddenly the morning seemed brighter; where he had felt empty and not at all interested in surviving the coming days, now he had hopes, dreams, a future to look forward to.

She had managed to follow orders after all.