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If Nathaly Shepard was a master of chaos, Liara T’Soni was the ruling mistress of organized chaos.  She heard her yelling over the din downstairs as everyone rushed to get ready.  “Remember, this is an infiltration mission, not a party.  Use discretion.”

Grumbling, krogan.  Liara grew a shade cross.  “Yes, Wrex, this does mean don’t challenge other guests to a fight.  No, not even if they start it.”

Shepard turned back to the mirror.  Her own preparations had fallen somewhat behind, a result of not only the mess downstairs, but a small act of truly irritating presumption on the part of the store supplying her attire. 

Footsteps in the bedroom.  A blue arm thrust into the doorway, bearing a garment bag.  “Your replacement dress.”

“Finally.”  She hung it off the towel rack and tugged at the zipper.

Liara twisted her fingers.  “They waved the cost, after some discussion about taking customers at their word.”

“I had to put on the ridiculous thing and send them a photo.”  She worked the dress free of the hanger and held it up to herself in the mirror.  Making sure the skirt went all the way to the floor this time.  “So now there’s a picture of the great Commander Shepard, Spectre of the Citadel, Savior of the Galaxy, wearing an evening gown that barely goes past her knees.”

The idiot clerk’s only protest had been “women never measure right”.

“I’ve taken steps to ensure it won’t make its way to the press.” 

Shepard narrowed her eyes.  Liara definitely sounded amused.  “Go away.”

The footsteps retreated.  She put the gown aside, and returned to finishing her makeup.  The hair she could do little about.  She’d kept the buzzed sides and longer top she adopted after Cerberus lopped off her hair.  She practically lived in her hardsuit these days, and the idea of going through that stage where it was just long enough to get in her eyes, but too short to pull back, inside a helmet, made her crazy.  But she borrowed a few of Kaidan’s extensive collection of hair care products and did her best.

As if conjured by thought of pomade, Kaidan called out from the bedroom door.  “The first limo just left.  We need to go.”

“Just another a minute.”  She put down the eyeshadow compact and inspected her work.  At a gala to raise funds for human refugees, humanity’s first spectre would garner substantial attention.  For once, it would be nice for that attention to be somewhat flattering.  She barely saw the scars anymore, and makeup did wonders for the exhaustion.  Hopefully cameras could be fooled, too.

Not that she felt particularly tired tonight.  More like excited.  Someone had her in their sights, a more manageable threat than Cerberus or the reapers, and she hadn’t had a problem she could solve without weighing the balance of the galaxy in absolute eons. 

Satisfied, she turned to the gown.  Plum satin and flowing, it had no zipper.  Instead, a long, loopy ribbon of the same slippery material crisscrossed the plunging back.  Shepard slipped it over her head and settled it on her hips before tugging at the closure.

It wasn’t a simple thing, tightening and tying it behind her back.  She cursed Liara for picking something so complicated.  It needs some complexity, she’d argued, because you’re not wearing jewelry.  This was still a work night.  Shepard refused to wear anything that would give an enemy a painful hold on her body, like big earrings, or a built-in garrote like the chunky necklace Liara originally proposed.

She snorted.  Right.  Because wearing her weight in silver was definitely her style, pragmatic challenges notwithstanding.

More footsteps outside the bathroom, heavier ones.  Kaidan.  “It’ll take time for Brooks to get set up, and we’re already late.  What is the hold—”

The hatch slid open.  Shepard twisted to look, her hands still fumbling with the ribbon at the base of her spine.

“—up.”  Kaidan stood in the doorway, slack-jawed and blinking.  Irritated expression fading fast into something else entirely.  Something quieter.  “Wow.”

Her breath caught.  His black suit fit him perfectly, an extravagance of Liara’s Shadow Broker connections outfitting them all for this mission.  She met his eyes.  “I could use some help with this sash.”

Kaidan stepped towards her.  She turned back to the mirror.  His hands brushed hers, taking up the ribbon, his breath at her neck.  Shepard leaned her head into him as he cinched each loop, fingers tickling swaths of bare skin as they worked.  “Do we have to go now?”

She felt as much as heard his answering chuckle, low in his chest.  He left a featherlight kiss on her naked shoulder.  “It’d be a shame to go to all the trouble of tying you into this dress just to take it off again.”

“I’m prepared to live with that disappointment.”  Her eyes fluttered as his lips flared hot against her. 

She felt a tug at her waist as he fastened the final knot.  Then his hands slid across the satin over her hips, and he looked up, into her eyes reflected in the mirror.  “If I’d known all it took to get you dressed up was an assassination attempt…”

Her head turned to him, breaking up the moment into laughter.  “You would not.”

“I guess we’ll never know.”  His face crinkled into a grin.

She kissed him quick, swished into the bedroom, and picked up a small bottle.  Kaidan groaned.  “And perfume?  You’re killing me, Nathaly.”

“Just a little insurance you’ll wait around for the end of the evening.”  She shot him a salacious smile, full of promise.

“Tease,” he huffed, and put his hand to the small of her back.  “Let’s get out of here.”

Vega paced at the bottom of the stairs, while Brooks leaned up against the wall, a portrait of exasperation.  He looked up.  “Damn, Lola.”

“Worth the wait?” she asked, dryly.  Kaidan nudged her.

“Every second of it.”  Nothing could stop James being a flirt.

Brooks rolled her eyes.  “Men.”

She’d opted for a cocktail dress, blue and gray, her long hair teased to give it some volume.  The better for crawling through ducts, Shepard imagined.  Her own gown was loose enough in the skirt to allow full movement.

But as it happened, she agreed it was well past time to depart.  “The limo’s waiting.  Let’s go.”

As they climbed inside, James shifted in his seat, feeling it out. “I can’t say I’ve ever gotten a lift to a mission in quite this much style.”

Shepard raised an eyebrow.  “Really?”

“Yeah.  Feels like James Bond.”

She rolled her eyes.  They pulled away, and angled into the flow of traffic down to the ward.

* * *

The ride to the Silver Coast Casino was short and uneventful.  Their host for this gala, the casino had only just opened its doors when the reapers attacked and drastically reduced luxury expenditures, particularly among its mainly human clientele.   The party was as much an advertisement as a fundraiser.  But it served their purpose; their mystery assassin obtained weapons through an arms dealer moonlighting as a casino mogul, Elijah Khan.

They’d rolled out the literal red carpet.  Curious citizens crowded the rope line, angling for a glimpse of the rich and moderately famous.  Shepard stepped out and looked around, more curious than she expected.  A few people pointed, but for once she wasn’t the most interesting spectacle available.  They wanted true celebrities. 

Kaidan exited behind her, followed by James and Brooks.  He offered her his arm.   She tsked.  “So old-fashioned.”

“You love old-fashioned.” 

“Only as a cocktail.”

He grinned as they began to walk.  “Liar.”

Brooks rambled, nervous from the crowd.  “Can you see my exit wound?  Medi-gel is supposed to match skin color, but it never does.”

Shepard glanced at her sidelong.  She would not have expected Brooks to have much experience with medi-gel.  But before she could give it too much thought, a camera flash went off in her face and left her dazzled.

“Press,” Vega rumbled.  “They’re a little more interested than this lot, no?”

She sighed.  So-called journalists hounded her whenever she put her feet on solid ground, stations, planets, it didn’t matter.  “Let’s hope none of them ponied up the cash to get inside.”

“Sigh all you want,” Kaidan said.  “You’re enjoying yourself.  You’re downright radiant.”

Her expression soured.  “As in beautiful, or as in causing invisible damage?”

He rolled his eyes at her party-pooper attitude.  “Why not both?  Ow, my heart.”

She lowered her head to hide her smile just as another series of flashes exploded their way.  “You are such a nerd.”

Brooks broke in, gawping at her askance.  “How are you so calm?”

“Half the people in this galaxy still think I’m working for Cerberus, every damn day someone with a missing relative hounds me for information, the press hates me, the Council hates me, and on top of that, I go out in public with a face full of glowing scars.”  Shepard shrugged.  “I adapted to an uncomfortable amount of attention some time ago.  It was that or never leave my cabin again.”

They entered the casino, onto an atrium leading to a flight of stairs up to the main floor.  Brooks bit her lip.  “That’s good.  They’ll all be staring at you, and ignoring me.”

James patted her shoulder.  “You’ll do fine, kiddo.”

And just for a split second, Brooks looked tremendously irritated.  Shepard didn’t read much into it.  Some people didn’t like being touched.  “Get to that ventilation shaft.  We’ll mingle with the guests until you’re ready.  I’m central command for this op, so everything flows through me.  You need back up, you call me first.  Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”  And that was odd, too.  Low-ranked officers on edge generally had some kind of reflex, a pull to attention, a twitch of the arm to salute, overcompensating for nerves with formality.  But maybe things were more relaxed in a desk job. 

Brooks walked off.  Shepard glanced at her remaining entourage.  “Well, let’s go see about this shindig, shall we?”

“We sure paid through the nose.”  James tugged at his jacket.  Even for a soldier, he stood tall and broad.  It was a wonder Liara found something in his size.

Shepard watched him fidget.  “You could fit two James Bonds in that suit.”

“Hey, now.”  His look was offended.  “No need to insult the classics.”

“Classic or not, he is kind of a skinny guy,” said Kaidan, magnanimous as always.  “Guess spies and marines have different needs.”

They ascended the stairs.  Shepard spoke in an undertone, enough for her comm to pick up, but not so loud that others would notice.  “Comm check.”

Her team answered in a chorus.  Garrus first.  “I’m standing by with Tali near the upstairs bar.”

“Live varren racing’s covered,” said Joker.

In the background, she heard Wrex roar, “You told me Tuchankan Princess was a purebred desert varren!”

Shepard’s voice was quite dry.  “The objective is to blend in, Wrex.”

“Don’t worry,” Cortez cut in.  “I’ve got an eye on the pair of them and on this corner.”

“Good.”  She moved on.  “Liara?”

“I’m here, Shepard.  So far no sign of Khan.”

“I’d be surprised if he pokes his head out of that safe room.”  She waited a moment.  “Javik?”

James nudged her.  “Think that’s him, by the buffet.”

He pointed.  She sighed, and turned to her team.  “James, I need someone by the quasar machines.  You can watch the restrooms from there, too.”

“On it.”  He moved off, a mountain of a man in a formal suit.  People instinctively moved out of his way, and more than a few stared as he passed.  One woman tilted her head for a better view.  Well, there was more than one way to be inconspicuous as a group.

Kaidan squeezed her hand before he slipped away.  “I’ll meet you by the roulette tables.  Try not to set the roof on fire.”

Shepard watched him go, and for a split second, she wished they could simply enjoy the party.  But she also knew she’d always choose work, and he did, too.  And they were maybe a few minutes away from a major incident fifty thousand years in the making.

Javik stared at the offerings with palpable disgust as she approached.  Around him, other guests kept well back, muttering to each other as his annoyed presence monopolized the buffet.  “You’re supposed to grab a plate and leave.  This kind of food service isn’t made for loitering.”

He looked at her, a portrait of indignation.  He pointed.  “What, Commander, is this?”

She gave the offending food a glance.  “It’s sushi.”  Then, when his expression did not so much as flicker, she added, “It’s rice and raw fish.  Mostly.”

“Even in my time, humans had mastered the use of fire.”  He blinked.  “How will you defeat the reapers when you have regressed so far?”

“Like you weren’t born so deep into the reaper war that you were living off algae paste.”

Javik huffed.  He had refused to exchange his armor for more suitable attire.  She reached for patience.  “There’s some cooked salmon here.”

The Citadel could only get salmon via black magic these days, and the platter was emptying fast.  Javik reached for a portion.  “I will… try it.”

Her comm activated.   Brooks, speaking in a low hiss.  “Commander… I found the vent.  I’m upstairs.”

She nodded to Javik, who had placed the tiniest morsel of fish in his mouth, and found the stairs.  Brooks paced beside the intake grate.  “Brooks.  Take it easy.”

“I’m not used to this.”  Her face tense.  Fingers tapping at her hip.

“You’ll do fine.”  She jerked her chin at the vent.  “What’re we looking at?”

“They put an alarm on the grate.”  Brooks blew out a breath.  “We expected this, but we’ll need to find a junction to disable it.”

Liara came up the stairway, holding her white gown in one hand.  High-necked and layered like so much of asari fashion, it lent Liara a touch of gravitas.  “I can help with that.  Take these.”

She withdrew a small case from a pocket.  Shepard took it and tripped the catch.  “Lenses?”

“Resonant emitter lenses,” she clarified, as Shepard put them in her eyes.  “It should let you see the wiring in the walls and floor.” 

“Perfect.” She blinked, twice, to settle them onto her irises.  Lines within the wall and floor began to glow.  “Yeah, I see the one coming from the alarm.  Standby.”

The wire ran between the dance floor and upstairs bar, to an alcove by the second stairway.  Shepard followed it casually, and leaned on the balcony rail as if surveying the crowd below while she assessed the situation.  The biggest downside of Khan holing up here was casinos had cameras absolutely everywhere, a by-product of passing so many credits, and of free-flowing alcohol.

The camera she could deal with.  The junction box was another matter. 

Shepard walked back to the bar, with the same lack of haste, feeling quite the spy.  She’d die before she told James.  Tali and Garrus stood to the side, nursing drinks, looking out-of-place.  Garrus raised his glass.  “Hey, Shepard.”

“Garrus.”  She fell into their little group, like they were making simple conversation.  “I need to borrow Tali to disable power to an alarm system.”

Tali shifted her weight.  “It should be simple, if I can get all these eyes off me.”

“What?”  But almost as soon as she asked it, the answer was clear, in the form of furtive glances Tali’s way, and the security guard hovering in the shadows.  “Oh, give me a break.”

“Yeah.”  Garrus sat back on his heel.  “A quarian buys a very expensive ticket to an exclusive soiree, and they still think she’s casing the joint.”

“We are casing the joint,” Tali pointed out.

If anything, that only increased his indignation.  “They don’t know that.”

“This is pointless.  Garrus, with me.”  Shepard nodded at Tali.  “You’ll know when.”

Garrus fell into step alongside her.  “That’s, uh, quite the ensemble Liara picked out for you.”

“Speak for yourself.  I didn’t realize turian formalwear had quite so many buttons.”  She eyed him.  “Bet Tali found that interesting.”

He sputtered.  If he was human, he’d be bright red.  She laughed and kept walking.

Garrus changed the subject.  “So, how do you want to play this?”

“Just follow my lead.”  She commandeered his drink as they came in range of security.  “Excuse me.”

The guard blinked.  She’d put a lot of haughtiness into her address.  “Ma’am?”

The liquor swashed precariously as she shoved the glass at his chest.  “A thousand credits a ticket and you’re watering the liquor.  I expected better from the Silver Coast.”

“Ma’am, I assure you nothing of the kind—”

“Are you calling this tongue a liar?”

“No, I—”

Garrus took the drink back, with the air of relieving her of it.  “Maybe we should just order something stronger.  Got any horosk?”

“Horosk?”  Truly off-balance now.  “Sir, we aim to entertain our guests, not put them in a coma.”

Their minor ruckus had distracted a few of the other guests upstairs, but not nearly enough to give Tali an opening.

“Come on,” she said, turning away with a sneer.  “Maybe the bartender downstairs can make a real drink.”

And as she stepped towards the stairs, she plowed into his arm shoulder-first.  Just a tipsy woman unsteady in her tall shoes.  And Garrus, not expecting it, dropped the glass.  It shattered with a loud crash that rose above the music. 

Shepard only just resisted a smug smile.  Everyone looked over at that.  Garrus grabbed her arm, as if to steady her, so maybe she’d fooled him, too.  He threw the security guard a helpless glance.  “We’re so sorry.  We’ll get out of your way.”

He dragged her off, as the guard activated his comm, sounding completely exhausted.  “Need a clean-up at the upstairs bar.  No, nothing biological.”

“Nice stumble,” Garrus whispered.

“Wasn’t sure you noticed.”

“You should’ve seen the crap we pulled in C-Sec.”  He spoke into his comm.  “Tali?”

“All set here.”

“Great.”  Shepard was pleased.  First hurdle down with barely a hiccup.  “Brooks, you are go.”

“Way ahead of you, Commander.”  Metallic thumping and banging sounds over the comm.  “And… grate is shut.  Moving forward.”

Tali rejoined them.  “That won’t be the last countermeasure.”

“Enjoy the party.”  She headed down the stairs.  “Keep your comms active.”

The last of the guests had arrived, and the gala was in full glittery swing.  It seemed nearly all of the Citadel’s notables had turned out.  Some of their garb, ruffled and layered and dripping with jewelry, made Shepard feel underdressed.  In a fricking ballgown.  It was unreal.

In the main atrium, lights floated overhead amid mirrored crystals, creating a giant, weightless chandelier enabled by the wonder of mass effect fields.  Patrons clustered in small groups, sipping drinks and picking at hors d’oeuvres.  There was a particular phyllo-wrapped quiche calling her name.  Shepard snagged a small plate before finding Kaidan.

He apparently had the same idea, licking an errant drop of sauce off his palm as she joined him.  “How in the world did they get their hands on tenderloin good enough for carpaccio?”

This many months into a brutal war, civilian supply lines had all but collapsed.  “Got me.”

“Can we hunt down Khan later?  Like maybe after we’ve fully raided the buffet?”

“It’s always food with you.”  She took a bite of the quiche bundle.  It melted in her mouth.  “Fuuuuck.”

“What did I tell you?”  He took another bite.

“We can’t give up the mission, but I tell you this, when we find him, we’re definitely getting the name of his caterer.”  She popped the rest in her mouth and shut her eyes in bliss.  “Do you think they’d enjoy living aboard the Normandy?”

“You can’t afford them.”  Flatly.

“Try me.”  She was prepared to offer a lot. 

Kaidan gathered up a spoonful of something on his plate.  “Try this.”

She dutifully wrapped her mouth around the spoon.  “Oh, god.”

“It’s some kind of mashed sweet potato over… lentils, I think?” 

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.”  She reached for his plate.  “Gimme.”

He laughed and let her have it.  “You know, they’re running card games in the next room.”

Shepard gave him a withering stare.  “Don’t.”

“I’m just saying.  These tickets were pricy.  I could earn back our money.”

“I need you doing your job tonight.  Which is not, much as you might wish, professional poker player.  I’m deeply sorry you had to settle for spectre.”

“Yeah, it’s a bummer for sure, but with the support of my friends and family, I’m moving past it.”  Kaidan grinned.  He had a hell of a grin, one that never failed to distract her.  Impulsively, Shepard leaned in and planted her lips on his.  Quick and wet and meaningful.

His thumb caressed her jaw.  “Now who’s not working?”

She gave him an exasperated glance.  “Let’s get a drink.”

They made their way to the bar, and found James there, still dutifully watching his area.  Before him sat a martini glass.

Shepard eyed it meaningfully.  “That’s an odd glass for tequila.”

He rankled.  “A man can’t branch out every so often?”

James usually didn’t, but she decided she’d given him enough grief for the moment.  She leaned in and placed her own order.  This bartender liked to put on a show, flipping the shaker behind his back, making long pours from over his head.  A touch over theatrical, but entertaining. 

The drinks were as impressive as the food; just about everything was available, all of it top shelf.  Assuming the weapons deals weren’t enough, C-Sec would likely be very interested in whatever other kinds of smuggling Khan was running.

Or maybe not, she thought, as she sipped.  The Silver Coast was just down the street from her apartment after all, and every pad needed a decent watering hole.  Might be wiser to keep her mouth shut on this one.

Kaidan put his elbows on the bar top.  “I don’t care what you say, that is not an Old Fashioned.”

“It is, too.”  She took another drink.  “Look, cherry and orange are traditional garnishes.  All I did was take that to the next level.”

“Adding cherry and orange liqueurs makes it a completely different drink.”

They were interrupted by Brooks, over the comm.  Speaking like she was barely moving her lips. “Commander, there’s a guard right underneath me.  I can see him through the vent, and he definitely heard me move just now.”

“Sit tight.”  She started looking around the casino floor, trying to ascertain her location. 

James drained the last of his drink, wiped his mouth, and got up, ambling towards a wall dominated by a single oversized piece of modern art.  “I got this.”

She watched him approach one of the many security guards roaming the premises.  They had good gear, real quality stuff, and she hadn’t yet caught one snacking or making chitchat despite the many big names in attendance, and god knew the crowd was starstruck.  So they were disciplined, too.  Not surprising but likely to make their job harder as the night wore on.

Summoned by her sour thoughts, a group of giggling girls, daughters, maybe, of wealthier guests, approached her and Kaidan, breathlessly requesting a picture with humanity’s only spectres.  They obliged, Shepard bored, Kaidan still distinctly uncomfortable with the notoriety that came with the title, even after all this time.  She kept her attention on James.  His gestures wild, the security guard blinking under the enthusiastic assault.  Wondering what the hell kind of story he was spinning as Brooks crawled by through the duct overhead.

She wasn’t made to wait long.  The guard walked off.  Brooks confirmed, in a strained and hushed fashion, that she was again on the move.  And James was ebullient.  “You wouldn’t believe it.  He actually bought the story about the harvester egg.”

Garrus pounced immediately.  “Not as unbelievable as you finally admitting that story is bullshit.”

“Hey now,” said James, offended.

Shepard was amused, but this was a job.  “Cut the comm chatter.  Stay alert.”

A chorus of yes ma’ams.  She returned to her drink.

Naturally, she wasn’t granted much opportunity to enjoy the party.  Shouting came from the varren racing room, off to the side of the floor.

Kaidan wrinkled his brow.  “Is that Wrex?”

“It better not be.”  She set down the glass and began her sashay towards the commotion.  By long and far, this was the least practical getup she’d ever worn to a mission.  Even Kasumi knew better than to put her in high heels.  But Shepard would be damned if the dress didn’t feel so good on her skin it should be straight-up illegal.

Varren racing remained popular on any number of worlds across Council Space, and off-track betting could be found all over the Citadel.  The Silver Coast had a dedicated room featuring full holographic boards complete with detailed renderings of each unique varren.  Tonight, the particular set of featured races came from a large track on Gellix.  The reapers had shown about as much interest in that place as the turians who annexed it, or the humans who later leased it from them.  And the sizeable population both left behind mostly made a living off these sorts of marginal markets.  So despite the war, the show carried on, and plenty of their clients seemed happy to buy a little escapism.

“I always have to remind myself varren aren’t dogs,” Kaidan said, as they approached the tables.

“Not a fan?” she asked lightly, scanning the room, trying to see past the commotion at the back.

“Varren take to it better than dogs.”  Which wasn’t a no. 

Another roar went up.  Shepard walked faster.  “That’s definitely Wrex.”

And not only Wrex.  Joker yelled right back.  “You lost, fair and square.  Pay up!”

“Shit.”  She waded through the onlookers, Kaidan at her heels, and found her two crew members separated by three guards trying vainly to re-establish order.  “What the hell is going on?”

She used her very best annoyed C.O. voice.  Joker gulped.  Wrex was harder to intimidate, but he’d learned her well, and his face flashed wariness.  Both of them fell silent.  Shepard crossed her arms and tapped her toe.  “By all means, keep me waiting.”

Jeff cleared his throat.  Automatically folding his hands behind him and drawing himself up as much as his braces would allow.  “Just a little bet, ma’am.  He put it all on Tuchankan Princess who came in fourth.”

Wrex left her no opening.  “And you heard the announcer just like I did.  They found a dead varren in the pen next to hers, with half-eaten food all around it!”

Kaidan snorted.  “And this is why I don’t like varren racing.”

One of the guards spoke up.  “I’ve been trying to explain that the Silver Coast doesn’t permit private bets.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Wrex, you lost.  Pay up.  Joker, pay the house.  Then both of you knock this shit off.”

Wrex muttered.  She raised her eyebrows.  He stared her down, just for a beat or two, then grumbled and opened his omni-tool to transfer the credits. 

The guard was taken aback.  “You can’t do that!”

With her very best people-she-couldn’t-shoot smile, she said, “Favor for a spectre.  Could come in handy someday.”

He did the now-familiar squint she got whenever she was in civilian clothes.  People who were good with faces still recognized her.  But to most, the change in uniform lent her a little anonymity.  Especially this much of a change.  “Commander Shepard, my apologies.  It seems you have the situation in hand.”

“My guests won’t cause any more trouble.”  With a pointed glare to ensure they knew she spoke to them as well.

“Nathaly.”  Kaidan tugged at her arm. “They just put out more of those canapés.”

For a split second, confusion reigned, but then she saw his face.  After four years like this she could read him like a book, just as he could read her.  This wasn’t about food.  So instead of asking the obvious question, she said, “Great,” and let him lead her away.

“Sorry.”  He leaned in close, speaking low into her ear.  Just an intimate whisper to any onlookers.  “EDI’s monitoring Brooks’ progress.  She found something.  You had your hands full, so she contacted me.”

She kissed his cheek, and spoke softly into her comm.  “EDI?”

“Yes, Shepard.  I have been analyzing the logic of the known security systems within the casino.  I predict with eighty-two percent probability there will be at least one countermeasure within the ventilation Brooks cannot disable internally.”

“We planned for this—”

“She may not see it.  For example, there is a scale hidden beneath the floor of the entrance to the casino, to weigh exiting guests for stolen chips or other goods.  It is completely undetectable from inside the casino.”

Kaidan straightened.  Looked her in the face, inches away, but responded to EDI.  “Well.  Crap.”

“Yeah.”  Shepard opened her comm to broadcast to her team.  “Brooks, hold up.  We have a problem.”

“Okay.”  Hissing, at whisper volume even though she doubted very much anyone on the floor could hear her in the vent.  “But my calf is starting to cramp.”

Desk jockeys.  Shepard sighed, and filled in the team.  “Any ideas?”

Liara answered.  “Based on the schematics we reviewed earlier today, there should be a bundle of cabling following the ventilation shaft.  Your lenses should allow you to trace it through the structure and see if any power lines lead into it.”

“Got it.”  She peered at the ceiling until she saw it, and began to walk away.

Kaidan snagged her hand. 

She gave him an exasperated look.  “Not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, but—”

“You walk around here with your nose pointed up like that and you’ll give the whole thing away.  But a drunken little amble with your date shouldn’t draw attention.”

He was right.  She laced her fingers through his and started forward.  “You’re getting too good at this.”

It took the better part of twenty minutes of meandering, punctuated by a cuddle or a kiss when she needed to look at something, before they found it.  “Brooks, it’s a double interlock, maybe four meters from your position, around a bend.” 

“Right.”  Feedback of her crawling forward, the metal banging dully.  “Rounding the corner now.”

A long pause.  Kaidan pulled her into a darkened alcove.  The same worry in his eyes even as they pretended to gaze adoringly at each other. 

“I see an obstruction detector.  And the bolts are loose here.  Maybe a pressure pad?”

“Good,” she said, relieved.  “And they’re powered externally?”

“That’s affirmative.”  Her voice going up the scale slightly.  Being in the tight confines of the vent must be getting to her.

“Good.  Sit tight.  I’ve got the wires, and we’ll disable the junctions.”  Then, to herself and Kaidan, “The first wire leads back to the varren racing.”

“We just made a huge stink over there.  We can’t start messing around with the power systems.”

“We can’t.  But lucky for us, I’m pretty sure the guy who fixes up our shuttle can handle one little power junction.”  Shepard got back on her comm.  “Cortez?”

“Commander.  You’ll be glad to hear Wrex and Joker have cooled their heels.”

“Actually, I need them to make a little noise.” 

In the background, she heard Joker say, “But she just told us to stop!”

In a few short sentences, she told Cortez what she needed.  “Roger that, ma’am.  Coming right up.”

Shepard didn’t wait.  Instead, she started walking.  “The second terminates by the roulette tables.”

“Right.”  He jogged a step to catch up.  “What’s the game plan?”

“You know anything about power junctions?”

“Can’t say that I do.  Most of the hardware I work on is a few orders of magnitude smaller.”  He contemplated.  “I could probably blow it up.”

Shepard offered him a sidelong look dry enough to wring water from lunar dust.  He raised his eyebrows.  “Not quite what you had in mind?”

“Not entirely, no.”  She glanced around.  “Tali’s drawing too much attention because of the envirosuit, and you can’t see the wires.  I see two guards.”

Just then, a wild ruckus rose from the vicinity of the varren racing.  One member of the security team put his hand to his ear, and started jogging very fast towards the noise.  Shepard tracked him with her eyes.  “One guard.  I’ll need maybe five minutes.”

“I can give you five.”  He gave her hand a squeeze.  “Signal me when you’re ready.”

He ambled off towards the roulette table nearest the guard, pretending interest in the game.  Or maybe not; Kaidan fit a casino like his suit fit him.  Standing out in all the right ways, the ones that made him look perfectly at home.  Shepard was dead certain she stuck out like a sore thumb. 

Tali downloaded a basic schematic to her omni-tool.  All she needed was to run her camera program and reset several switches on the junction.  Easy enough, even for a luddite.  She caught Kaidan’s eye.  He gave her the slightest of nods, and turned his attention to the guard.

The moment she saw he had him, she made a beeline for the camera, coming at it obliquely to stay out of line of sight.  She watched the electronics go dark courtesy of her lenses.  Then she stepped in close to the wall, opened the side of the junction box, and found it laid out exactly like Tali said.

It was the work of a few minutes to get everything set properly, keeping one eye on Kaidan as she re-routed power.  Whatever he was discussing, it had the guard enthralled.  She finished up and headed their way.  As she drew up beside him, the guard was saying, “So you say there are schools that can hone your skills?”

Kaidan nodded his encouragement.  “There sure are.  The turians have been at it for centuries.  Look how many spectres they have.”

She took his arm, bemused.  He turned slightly towards her.  “Commander Shepard, don’t you think this man would make an excellent spectre candidate?”

The idea was absurd.  But he looked so hopeful she couldn’t crush his spirit.  “Everyone needs something to aspire to, right?”

He all but floated off the ground.  She cocked her head.  He wasn’t any spectre, but clearly there was some kind of ambition there, a personal dream.  “You know, just about every spectre started in the military, and the Alliance can use every able body right now.  Something to consider.”

“Yeah.”  And oddly enough, it seemed like he was.  “Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

She looked at Kaidan.  “We should check in with Joker.  Make sure Wrex didn’t put him through a wall.”

“Right.”  He nodded at the guard, who still had a thoughtful expression on his face.  “Nice meeting you.”

As they walked away, she rolled her eyes.  “A spectre?  Seriously?”

“He seemed a little starstruck, so I just rolled with it.”

She snagged him around the waist and pulled him close, planting a kiss.  “This is why I love you.”

His hand slid down her hip.  “My ability to lie?”

“No, your lying is terrible.”  Shepard tweaked his nose.  “Your earnestness and ability to encourage, no matter how ludicrous.”

He looked away, going slightly pink, and cleared his throat.  “All clear otherwise?”

“Mission accomplished,” she confirmed.  Then she activated her comm.  “Cortez, status report.”

The response was immediate.  “Affirmative, Commander.  Objective cleared.”

“Joker and Wrex?”

“Security threw them out.  Honestly, I don’t think either of them were that sorry to leave.”

And even as he spoke, Shepard saw another pair of guards quietly wrestling her pilot and old friend towards the street.  They put on a good show, but there was no way anyone was moving Wrex against his will, and even Joker could kick up quite the acerbic fuss if he felt wronged.  Part of Wrex’s suit had fallen back, leaving his hump bare.  Joker was minus a sleeve.

Shepard decided she didn’t want to know.  This wasn’t really their scene, anyway.  “Brooks, you are cleared to proceed.”

The comm crackled a bit— interference from the walls and insulation.  “Yes, ma’am.  Moving forward.”

Shepard let the link go and offered Kaidan a smug grin.  “Clockwork.”

He snorted laughter.  “Nathaly, you know as well as I do that you’ll be utterly deflated if nothing goes wrong, and you have no chance to improvise.  You thrive on suspense and adrenaline.”

It seemed the perfect opportunity to kiss him again.  In this place, at this time, she couldn’t care less who saw them, and that was a heady experience.  Their relationship might be the Alliance’s most open secret, but Command expected them to keep up appearances.  It was the unspoken agreement when he came back to her ship.  Don’t make trouble, and we won’t cause you trouble.

For his part, Kaidan seemed wholly agreeable.  His fingers slid through that too-short hair of hers.  Keeping her mouth close.

So, naturally, Brooks encountered another problem almost immediately. 

“Commander,” she hissed into the comm.

Shepard closed her eyes.  Annoyed.  Just managing to keep it from her voice.  “What.”

“I tripped a silent alarm.”  She sucked in a breath.  “I didn’t get in time.”

Liara came onto the comm.  “Shepard, there’s a guard headed towards Brooks’ exit point.  I just heard over their private transmissions.”

And just like that, her focus recrystallized on the mission.  Kaidan wasn’t wrong about her particular drives.  “EDI, talk to me.”

“I will call the guard to report a false alarm.  But you will need to intercept him while I find a non-suspicious channel.”

“Shit.”  She craned her neck.  “Where the fuck is he?  Anyone?”

Cortez.  “I got nothing, Commander.”

James.  “Nada.”

Tali.  “Maybe— no, he moved away.”

Shepard rotated in place, trying to spot anything through the crowd.  “Come on, people.”

“There.”  Garrus’ voice came as she caught sight of him leaning over the upstairs balcony, clear as day, but desperate times and all that.

She followed his pointing and caught sight of the guard disappearing behind the art wall.  Way too close to Brooks.  “Crap.  Crap, crap—”

N7 never trained her to run in heels.  She had to learn that one on her own.  How the fuck Miranda fought in heeled boots all the time was beyond her; terrified her a little, truth be told.  No mortal person should be capable of dealing with that.

Kaidan was somewhere behind her.  The guard came into view.  The damn shoes had no traction, and she skidded as she cut in front of him, close to losing her footing.  His head jerked back.  Startled. 

“Hey!” she said, a paragon of guile.

A flash of irritation.  “I’m trying to do three things at once.”

She sat back on her heel and raised her chin.  “Welcome to my world.”

He held up one finger.  Shepard stared at it, disconcerted.  Either she was losing her touch, or the Silver Coast ran very short-staffed.  The guard spoke into his comm.  “Barrows.”

And when the response came, Shepard heard it in her comm, as well, EDI’s voice perfectly modulated to a human male.  “Sir, we checked out the alarm in storage.  It’s nothing.  Minor accident.”

“I want whoever’s responsible in my office first thing.”  Barrows shut his omni-tool and looked up at Shepard.  “Now, what did you need?”

Her mind went blank.  “I, uh…”

“There you are,” Kaidan said, catching up at last, and apparently having caught the tail end of the conversation.  “I’ve been searching all over for you.  I step out for some air, and you disappear.”

Playing along, she put her hand on her hip, mock-offended.  “Hey, I turned around for two seconds to collect my drink, and you were gone.”

Barrows massaged the bridge of his nose.  “Glad to re-unite you.”

Then, with barely a nod, he was off again, speaking tersely into his comm, putting out the next fire.

Shepard wasted little time doing the same.  “Brooks?”

“I’m almost out.  You’ll need to disable the cameras on your side and take the elevator up to Khan’s office.”  She was breathing hard.  “I’ll have the lock open by then.”

That was the entire point of sending Brooks this way.  From her side, out of sight of the party in a storage room with no direct access to the casino floor, she had all the time in the world to disable the security surrounding Khan’s office.  Locks, cameras, the works.  None of them wanted to bring down a swarm of guards the moment they walked through the door.

Then, when she was ready to leave, she’d climb through another short ventilation shaft, and directly into his office.

“Got it.”  Shepard looked up at Kaidan.  “Ready for one last round of fooling these guards?”

He looped his arm through hers.  “Lead the way.”

This part of the Silver Coast lacked gaming tables, and so also lacked the crowds filling the rest of the building.  Instead, a few quiet groups gathered on couches and in small knots, sipping champagne as they talked.  Shepard’s mouth thinned into a line.  It would be harder to mess with the cameras here, and they could not be caught breaking into Kahn’s safe room.  Not at a time when an unknown agent had sent half a platoon to kill her. 

No way out but forward.  Kaidan meandered towards the guard, while Shepard set up station near the camera, out of its viewing range, and started playing, idly, with her omni-tool.  Her position couldn’t be worse.  She spied another pair of cameras.  They’d have a very small window to bring them down.  Two of the guests would spot her if they turned their heads even slightly, and there was another guard staring into the middle distance, closer to the elevator.  The timing had to be perfect.

The second Kaidan engaged his target, she switched to her camera bypass.  As they laid plans back at the apartment, Tali explained the program was both elegant and simple.  It inserted a small splice of code into the unit’s temp memory, which recorded a short loop in the same space, allowing her team a window of invisibility.  When the loop played out, it auto-erased.

Her eyes circled the room as the program executed, waiting for it to be in place.  From Kaidan’s guard, to the second guard, to the next nearest camera— just in case it moved— to the guests standing a few meters away, and back to the guard standing right next to her.  Frowning.

Shepard fought the urge to snap her omni-tool shut.  Kaidan was nowhere in sight. 

“Something special about this wall, ma’am?”  Polite, to a fault, but very definitely a rhetorical question.

She straightened.  “Just checking messages.” 

“Uh-huh.”  His eyes lingered on her a fraction too long. 

That just pissed her off.  She pointed to a random group.  “I’m just gonna go talk to my friends over there.”

“You do that, ma’am.”  Absolutely no inflection.  “Have a nice night.”

A couple of the strangers blinked as she entered their circle, but nobody commented.  She didn’t dare look around for Kaidan, or touch her comm; she could barely keep the guard in her peripheral vision, waiting for his attention to move elsewhere.  Her gut said nothing was wrong.  Something else had distracted Kaidan.

Finally, the guard moved on.  She excused herself from the small talk and made her way back to the main room, searching for her wayward boyfriend.  And then stopped short.

Kaidan stood at the base of the stairs, thunderstruck, talking to or rather staring at one of the most drop-dead gorgeous women Shepard ever laid eyes on.  She wore a timeless black evening gown that made Shepard feel like a kid headed to junior prom, the kind of makeup that took three hours look like she woke up that way.  Glossy black hair worthy of a shampoo ad peaked out from under a beaded hijab.  All in all, it was a picture of effortless elegance. 

And something else.  An implant scar, right at the edge of her scarf.

Her lips pursed.  Putting their whole mission at risk for… for this, whatever this was.  She wasn’t having it.  She strode up to him, and spoke in the flattest voice she could muster.  “Hi.”

“Nathaly.”  He started, as if noticing her for the first time.  Dazed, almost.  “I’m sorry, I got waylaid.”

“I can see that.”  She glanced again at the woman.  When no further explanation was forthcoming, she prompted, “Are you going to introduce me?”

The woman broke into a smile, and extended her hand.  “I’m afraid I caught Kaidan a bit off-guard.  I’m Rahna Sadik.”

Shepard blinked, extending her hand automatically.  Rahna took in both of hers, warm as apple pie.  Even her voice was melodic.  “I was shocked myself to see him here.  We went to school together.”

“I know,” she said, before she could stop herself.  Then she gave herself a little shake, remembering her manners, and withdrew her hand.  “Nathaly Shepard.”

“Ah, the famous Commander Shepard.  A pleasure to meet you.”  Every word radiating sincerity.

Kaidan slid his arm around Shepard’s waist.  She hated how much it reassured her.  “Rahna was just telling me her family’s still on Earth.”

“Yes.”  She sighed, worried, but resigned.  “I’ve spent most my life doing charity work.  It’s ironic that all I can do for them now, or anyone back home, is attend parties and drum up money.”

Shepard recalled Kaidan mentioning her family was wealthy.  Apparently, it was still true.  “Not everyone’s cut out to fight.”

It was the most diplomatic thing she could make herself say.  Rahna’s face relaxed into a certain understanding.  “He told you, then.”

“Yes.”

Kaidan tried to intervene.  “Nathaly, we don’t need to—”

But Rahna held up her hand.  “Please.  It’s alright.  I am known as quite the obnoxious pacifist, and these, my most deeply held beliefs, took root in that school.  Taking these gifts, seeing their only use in violence, indoctrinating children in that message…  It wasn’t right.  It cannot be justified.”

Kaidan had gone slightly stiff.  Shepard’s eyes narrowed.  She was about three words away from cutting off this conversation.  Maybe spew a little acid onto that pretty face. 

“I have thought about what happened often, and I believe in that truth.”  Rahna took a breath.  “But I was also a young girl, who spent nine years of her life in a laboratory prison, who was so scared she thought any action could only make things worse.  Who didn’t want to see her friends hurt more.”  She turned towards Kaidan.  “Any of them.”

His hand tightened on her waist.  She glanced at his expression, and then she put her hand over his, where it rested against her.  Some small, publicly acceptable comfort for the complex alchemy of pain, validation, and understanding she saw there.

“None of us came out of there unscathed,” he said.

Rahna bit her lip.  “It was too big for me to know what to do.  Not at seventeen.”

“Me, too.” His voice a little thick at the edges.  Shepard leaned into him. 

She should have left it at that.  None of this was any of her business, but she was very familiar with how raw a wound could be even two decades later, and how Kaidan had carried this around with him every single day for so long.  Rahna didn’t deserve to get off that easy.  “You know, pacifism’s fine for those who can afford it, but not every war is avoidable.”

She let out a grim little chuckle, a light scoff, as if she saw exactly what Shepard was doing.  “I used to believe otherwise.  But how can you negotiate with a machine?  What diplomacy can there be when the only demand of its programming is that you die?”  Then, unexpectedly, she smiled.  “But if there must be war, I am glad we have people of such integrity to fight it.”

Shepard looked again at Kaidan, who was so deep in his head now that his face was entirely unreadable, even to her.  “On that, we can agree.”

Rahna glanced over her shoulder.  “I’m afraid I must be going.  For me, this is a work night.  But it was very good to meet you, and to see you again, Kaidan.”

And then she was gone, sliding back into the crowd like a fish in a reef.  Shepard watched her go.  “Wow.”

“Yeah.”  Kaidan’s reply came from a long way off.  He stared ahead, not so much after Rahna, as at something she couldn’t see.

This went on for a minute or two, long enough for her to get uncomfortable.  “What is it?”

“I…”  He cleared his throat.  “I have this very loudly religious aunt.  You know, the kind that’s always telling you how god has a plan whenever something goes wrong, like that ever comforts anyone.”

“I’ve got aunts like that, too.”  She grew a shade more concerned.  He was a live and let live type, and this wasn’t at all like him.  “Come on.  Talk to me.”

He turned towards her, and cupped her cheek in his hand, running his thumb across the bone.  His eyes searching hers. “I think I just figured out what she meant.”

Her heart melted.  He leaned forward and kissed her gently.  “Not going to lie .  Unexpected closure is… really good.  But I wouldn’t trade one piece of it for you.”

She leaned her forehead against his, shut her eyes and wrapped her arms around him.  “It’s ridiculous, but for like a half-second there… I mean, you told me she was beautiful, but goddamn.”

He chuckled, that type she loved, a low, warm rumble.  “You look better than her.”

For the second time that evening, she said, “You’re a terrible liar, Major Alenko.”

“I mean it,” he insisted.  “I’m not a teenager anymore.  Character became more appealing than glam.”

“That’s not helping your case.”

“I see I’ll need a more convincing argument,” he said, and kissed her again.

Just as she was really getting into it, her comm lit up.  Brooks, in a stage whisper full of nerves.  “Commander.”

Kaidan broke off.  He always chickened out first.  She sighed, and replied.  “We got hung up.  We’re coming now.”

Liara had followed their comm dialogue and waited for them near the access point, along with Garrus as their resident cop and best interrogator.  In the time they spent talking to Rahna, one of the guards had moved on, and so had many of the guests.  It was a simple matter to take down the cameras even with the tricky timing.  The elevator doors opened right as the last camera expired.  The four of them dove inside.

Brooks met them in the antechamber.  Shepard looked around at her team, and a grim and promising smile grew fierce on her face.  “Let’s go.”

They burst into the office.  Khan sat ensconced in an imposing business chair, facing away from them, towards a fireplace and a large terminal screen mounted over it.  He made no acknowledgement of their sudden entrance.

Shepard crossed her arms.  “Elijah Khan?  We’re going to have a little chat.”

That, too, went unremarked.  Garrus approached and touched the chair back.  It revolved slowly towards them, Khan’s head sagging from his shoulders.

Brooks’ eyes went wide.  “What the hell?”

“Fuck,” said Shepard.

Kaidan scratched his head and sighed.  “And here I had this good cop routine all planned out.”

“I was going to say that,” Garrus grumbled.

Liara shook her head and knelt down to examine the corpse.  “You’d want to be the bad cop.”

“Yes, but it’s the same difference.”  He turned his attention to the corpse.  “Shot between the eyes.  Low-caliber.  I doubt anyone heard it outside.”

“Cameras should have caught someone coming in,” Kaidan reasoned.

Liara pursed her lips.  “Not if the killer used hacks similar to ours.  Or got here much earlier, and wiped the camera.”

“I don’t understand.”  Garrus was frustrated.  “How did they even get in here?”

Shepard rubbed her eyes.  “Can we get anything from this room?  Think, people.  This can’t be a dead-end.”

Brooks tried the computer.  “There’s a deletion order on this terminal.”

Liara took the keyboard.  “Let me have a look.”

“It’s no good.”  Brooks stepped off to the side, fidgeting in her now-dirty dress.  Her knees were bruised.  That teased hair coated with dust.  “The terminal’s been wiped.  I don’t know if it was Kahn, or the murderer, or— oh, god.  Did I screw this up when I tripped that last alarm?  Alerted them somehow?”

“I doubt it.”  Shepard looked over Liara’s shoulder.  “Check the comm.”

And then when everyone looked at her, she threw up her hands in exasperation.  “I have learned something about technology, hanging around you bunch all these years.”

“Will wonders never cease,” said Liara, dryly.

“It’s a good idea.”  Garrus crowded in.

Kaidan joined them.  “Yeah.  Whoever did this, had to be in a hurry.  Maybe made a mistake.”

Liara straightened.  “I’ve got something.”

The terminal over the fireplace lit up.  They turned as one body to watch.  A face obscured by static emerged; it could have been anyone, male, female, human, asari, turian.  She wouldn’t rule out batarian, either.

The figure spoke, filtered well through a voice modulator.  “Elijah.  Come crawling back?”

Shepard sat back on her heel.  Smug with satisfaction, and a little angry.  “Guess again.”

“You.”  Practically a growl.  “Playing dress-up while your life slips from your fingers.  Typical.”

“Is that all you got?”  Shepard had been trashed talked by everyone from Councilors to reapers.  This was amateur hour.  “I’m so embarrassed for you.”

“You have nothing.  All you can do is sit and wait.  You’re cornered, and you don’t even know it yet.”

She took a step towards the screen.  “Everyone who’s ever thought they had me cornered lived just long enough to realize their mistake.  And most them brought more than a pack of washed-out soldiers even a galaxy at war didn’t want.”

That struck a nerve.  “I’m going take everything you have and everything you are.  When I’m done, you won’t even have a name to call your own.”

Then they cut the link.  Brooks sighed. “Damn it.  Not enough time to trace.”

“We don’t need it.”  She nodded to Liara, who began prying at the terminal.

Brooks blinked her surprise.  “What?”

Kaidan bent to help her.  “We have the data drives.”

“But those are completely shot—”

Shepard tilted her head.  Brooks seemed awfully worked up.  “EDI can work miracles.  Liara, you’ll take them back to the apartment?”

She nodded, affirmative.  “I’ve had enough of this party, anyway.”

Brooks tapped her omni-tool.  “I’ll let the cars know we’re ready to leave.”

Shepard reached for Kaidan’s hand, and jerked her head towards the door.  “Go with Liara if you want.  We’ll join you later.”

“You’re… you’re staying?”  Brooks’ eyebrows were in her hair.  Completely disconcerted.  “Aren’t you worried about that threat?”

She glanced at Kaidan, who shrugged.  “No.  Taking down a reaper on foot puts things in perspective.”  Then she looked at Garrus.  “You?”

“I’ll stay awhile.”  He shuffled a bit.  “I might have promised Tali a dance.”

Shepard’s mouth fell open, and she wasn’t the only one.  For a second or two, the whole room focused on Garrus,  who turned away and scratched at his mandible. 

Kaidan was the one to finally break the silence.  “You can dance?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”  He gestured to the door.  “We should go.  Sooner or later, security will notice the cameras here aren’t showing Kahn, and we can’t be here when that happens.”

“Agreed.”  Shepard led the way to the elevator.

* * *

Kaidan and Shepard lounged together in one of the casino’s many booths, watching the artificial sun come up over the strip outside.  Shepard toyed with the heavy fabric of her long skirt, which had grown increasingly tiresome as the evening wore on, propped up against Kaidan’s chest.  Kaidan himself was tucked into the corner, the jacket of his suit hanging half open and his arm draped across her stomach.  Both of them tired in the way only staying up all night for no damn reason could induce, and still on the tipsy side of a massive hangover.

So when the Alliance ensign found them at their table and cleared his throat, neither was in the mood to hear what he had to say.  “Ma’am.  Sir.”

Shepard’s head lolled towards him.  “Go away.”

He cleared his throat.  “I’m couriering a message from Admiral Hackett.  I was ordered to deliver it directly.”

“Give it to him,” Shepard said, lifting her eyes to Kaidan.  “He technically outranks me.”

Kaidan looked down at her.  “That would mean I get to tell you what to do.”

Her mouth curved in a wicked smile, as she drawled, “Yes sir, Major Alenko, sir.”

His expression was fascinating.  Half annoyed, but also intrigued, and more than a little into it.

She reached her hand up towards his head, intending to pull him down to her for a kiss.  But the damn ensign cleared his throat again.  “All the same, ma’am, my message is for you.”

The poor boy was red as a brick.  She heaved a sigh.  “Let me have it.”

He handed it over, saluted, and scurried away.  She folded it into her palm without reading, letting her head fall back against Kaidan once more.  “Work never ends.”

“Hackett’s timing is charming.”  He let out a sigh of his own, and then jostled her slightly, until she looked up at him.  “Hey.  When this is over, we’ll carve out some time, just you and me.”

She shook her head.  He took the paper and unfolded it.  “Just like Hackett to be archaic.”

“I have him blocked on my omni-tool.”

“You blocked the Fleet Admiral—”

“I’m on shore leave,” she protested.  “On his orders.”

He rolled his eyes, and read the paper.  “He wants you to come down to the ship later today and advise the repair team on something.”

Shepard closed her eyes  and snuggled into him, feeling his arm settle back around her.  “I’ll get right on that.”