Rated T for language and adult themes. Will switch to M in later chapters.

A/N: I have only recently discovered the awesome possibilities of a FemShepley romance, and there's just not enough of it on here. This is slightly AU, as it features a bisexual Ashley Williams. It will be focused on the behind-the-scenes moments that take place outside of the canon dialogue scenes in Mass Effect 1. Enjoy.

Thank you to the biggest Ashley fanboy I know, Hattu, for pre-reading this for me.

***** Bioware owns everything. Especially my soul. *****

Chapter 1

Day 1

"I… have to admit. I was a little worried when I saw I was being assigned to the Normandy. It's nice when someone makes you feel welcome."

To say that Chief Ashley Williams' day had been long and arduous would be an understatement. Twenty four hours ago, she had been scouting with her small ground team, Dog Squad, on the colony of Eden Prime. A mere day later, she had watched them all wiped out by a geth attack, had witnessed human civilians being morphed into what she could best describe as space zombies, and had been reassigned to the best ship in the human fleet. The day's fortunes had fluctuated so wildly that it had been all she could do just to saddle up and survive.

Being aboard the Normandy felt wrong, like wearing a set of armour that's a size too small. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had been slipped into somebody else's life. Assignments like this just didn't get given to a member of the Williams family. Ashley was secretly waiting for the other shoe to drop, for some snarky CO to come bustling out of nowhere to tell her that she didn't belong, because she definitely didn't feel like she did.

Captain Anderson had been nice enough, but busy running a warship. Lieutenant Alenko had been the most friendly and willing to give her the time of day, but he'd retired to his bunk hours ago with one of his biotic migraines. The only other person Ashley could safely claim to be acquainted with was Commander Shepard, but after her 15+ hours of rack-time during her 'post prothean beacon meltdown', she had been too busy squaring away her duties to offer her new marine anything other than a few brief words of welcome.

Ash sauntered aimlessly into the mess-hall, faintly guided by her empty stomach responding to the scent of the evening meal. She frowned slightly as she felt all the blank stares of strangers upon her. It annoyed her that at 25 years of age, she had suddenly reverted back to feeling like she was 'the new girl' back in high-school. She headed to the buffet set up in the galley and quickly grabbed a plate, looking at the options. It all looked like varren crap to her, so she grabbed the closest thing to a balanced looking meal that she could see; a slimy looking meat stew with a few discoloured vegetables floating around in it. The Alliance was known for many things… fine dining not being one of them. She turned around hesitantly, dreading playing the 'where will I sit?' game.

"Hey, Williams! Pull up a seat," Commander Shepard called across the room and gestured to the chair opposite her on the long table.

Ashley looked at the Commander gratefully and finished filling her plate with the congealed sludge that was otherwise known as her dinner. The Commander sat on the eight-person table alone, while the rest of the crew seemed to be actively avoiding her. They held soft, murmured conversations, punctuated at times by gentle sobs. Grief. They were grieving the devastating loss of a comrade. Jenkins; the baby of the ship, 20 years old and fresh out of the academy, or so Ashley had heard.

Ashley suddenly felt a wave of guilt. Of course nobody was going out of their way to be inclusive. She was the very personification of what they had lost down on Eden Prime. She had taken the young marine's spot on the crew. She would probably end up taking over his duties as well. Shit, she'd even get stuck with his empty bunk, knowing her luck. If anybody should understand the pain of losing a fellow soldier, it should be her.

She moved her sore, exhausted body back across the mess and slotted into the seat opposite the Commander, who welcomed her with a tight-lipped smile.

"How're you settling in, Williams?"

Ashley winced as she kept her fork poised in mid-air, her stomach rumbling a protest. It had been 12… maybe 13 hours since she'd last eaten, her shock and grief at losing her unit making her numb to even her most basic biological needs. But now that she was sitting in front of food, surrounded by the sounds of open-mouthed chewing and cutlery scraping metal plates, the empty pit of her stomach begged to be filled. Even though the meal looked barely fit for human consumption, it had a decent aroma, and it took every ounce of her remaining strength not to tell the Commander to shut her damn pie-hole while Ash unceremoniously wolfed down her meal.

"Pretty good, thanks Commander," Ashley answered, meeting Shepard's expectant gaze and attempting something that she hoped at least resembled a smile.

Shepard gave the marine a nod and shifted in her seat, giving Ashley a quick once over. Shepard was an excellent judge of people, and was able to gauge the quality of someone's character almost immediately. Williams struck her as a great soldier. Tough as hell, brave, and brazen. She had to be, to have survived what happened down on that planet. Ashley seemed a little bit untamed, probably not appropriate for leadership anytime soon, but overall she was a good, honest marine. She would make a fine edition to the Normandy's crew, despite the unfortunate series of events that had led to her appointment.

It was nice to have a new face aboard the ship. Especially someone who wasn't too scared to talk to her Commander. In the short amount of time Shepard had been onboard the Normandy, she'd found that being the Executive Officer was an isolating experience. She was suddenly regretting never having befriended any of her superior officers in the past, opting instead to do what the crew had been doing to her; dodging her at mealtimes, giving her quick, curt answers, suddenly becoming too engrossed in their work to talk whenever she was nearby. The saying 'it's lonely at the top' had never held more weight than it did at that solitary dinner table. It was almost enough to make her rethink any further advancement.

"Once you're done with your meal, I'll assign you to a bunk," Shepard said, poking her fork through a large portion of casserole and putting it in her mouth.

She wasn't entirely sure exactly whose ass it was that needed to be kicked over the fact that this soldier had been aboard the ship for 18 hours without a bed, without any duties, hell, probably without even getting to have a shower to wash the blood of her squad out of her hair. It was technically Shepard's task, yes, but given that her brain had been given a sturdy kick in the sweet spot when she was planet-side, she'd really hoped that someone else would pick up the slack. She liked Captain Anderson, but he was a backseat leader, relaying orders from his office. That could be an effective style of command in the right setting, but on the most advanced stealth warship in the human fleet, the captain needed to have a more hands on approach.

If this was Shepard's command, things would be run differently. She would spend most of the time on the bridge, leading from the front, not sitting on her ass in an office, shuffling datapads. She'd make herself an example, take the time to get to know her crew, let them know she had an open-door policy, and never make anybody feel too intimidated to speak to her. There would be no exclusion, no cliques, no anti-fraternisation bullshit. That was how to run a team.

"Thanks, Commander," Ashley answered, following suit and taking a mouthful of stew. It tasted exactly as shit as it looked. Maybe even shitter. The meat, which she had assumed was beef, was some suspicious, unidentifiable species of animal, one that she would probably be better off never knowing about. The sauce was overly salted, underly spiced, and the vegetables were so overcooked that they turned into a mushy, gelatinous mass as soon as they hit her tongue. She'd never missed her Mom's cooking quite so much as she did at that moment… But it was food, and if it did anything to fill the void in her stomach, it would do.

She frowned as she looked over at Shepard's meal. She didn't normally judge other people's dietary decisions, but this looked decidedly terrible.

"What the hell are you eating? Uh… ma'am."

She gritted her teeth slightly at the slip. After serving with the same unit for a period of time, she'd often get friendly with her fellow soldiers. It had only been two days ago that she'd been at a bar with the 212, dodging Donkey's advances and sharing a few laughs with Pennyloafer. It was easy for her exhausted brain to forget that this was a new squad, a new ship, an entirely different CO. Shepard seemed nice, but fairly 'by the book', if the small amount of time Ashley had actually seen her conscious was anything to go by. A slip up like that could get her slapped with an insubordination charge in a minute flat, if Shepard decided to be an asshole.

To Ashley's surprise and relief, Shepard looked down at her plate and breathed out a laugh. "It's tofu and bean casserole. Why? Would you like some?"

Ashley screwed up her nose, and shook her head. "No thanks. That's all yours, ma'am."

Shepard gave her a small grin and quickly popped another forkful into her mouth. "Suit yourself. If you had any idea what you were eating right now, you'd probably convert to vegetarianism too."

"I won't ask, you don't tell," Ashley said with a smirk as she took another mouthful.

The crisis averted, Ashley had at least learnt that her new Executive Officer wasn't a complete hard-ass, which made for a welcome change of pace from her last few postings. She was actually surprised the woman sitting in front of her was considered command material at all. Shepard was short and slim, with chin length brown hair. Pretty, in a delicate sort of a way, although not really to Ashley's tastes. She preferred her women tall, blonde and busty. She hadn't really had the time to stand by and admire the Commander's skills in battle while she was planet-side - trying not to get shot in the head by geth or mauled alive by husks had taken precedence - but she'd heard that Commander Shepard was some sort of kick-ass vanguard. If Alenko's crippling headaches were anything to go by, Ashley would just as soon not put her life in the hands of an unpredictable biotic, but she wasn't high enough in the chain of command to make that kind of decision. Still, if Shepard hadn't arrived when she did, the flashlight heads would've dragged Ashley to the dragon's teeth to be huskified with the rest of her squad. Shepard deserved Ashley's respect.

They fell into silence as they ate their meals. The sort of silence that would be comfortable between people that had been friends for months, but was uncomfortable between almost strangers. Ashley was content with it, wanting to just finish her meal, have a shower and get the hell to bed. Shepard, however, felt compelled to speak, looking up twice, even going as far as to open her mouth to say something - anything, just to break the quiet tension. But her mind was too filled with the macabre prothean vision to think of anything even resembling dinner conversation, so she stayed silent.

Taking pity on the Commander, who seemed to be squirming with discomfort at the extended silence, Ashley swallowed a big mouthful and spoke up. "So… we're heading to the Citadel?"

Shepard met her gaze with a relieved glance. "That's right. ETA is 22 hours."

Ashley nodded and stared back down at her food. Shepard eyed the Chief off with intelligent blue eyes. The young soldier suddenly looked exhausted and drained. It had been a rough day for her, and the apparent lack of a welcome she'd received aboard the Normandy hadn't helped things. In her brain, Shepard rattled off the list of priorities she would have if she'd spent the day watching her squad get torn to shreds. Food, shower, clothes, bed. Simple. And Williams seemed simple. In a good way. Clean cut, blunt, skilled. No frills, no curtsies, no bullshit.

"I'm going to fill out a requisition order for you before I go off-duty," Shepard announced as she ate the last bite of her dinner and put her fork down on the table with a small clatter, "I assume you want the usual? Skivvies, two sets of casual blues, one formal uniform, two sets of regulation boots, two sets of armour... Anything else?"

"No ma'am."

Shepard teased a piece of tofu out from between her back teeth with her tongue, trying to ignore the re-emerging headache, courtesy of the day's earlier head-probe. "Good. You're five foot, ten inches, 150 pounds and a galactic size five. Am I correct?"

A curious frown touched Ashley's face. "That's right, ma'am. How did you know that?"

The Commander averted her gaze and fiddled with her fork awkwardly. A flippant answer about being an aficionado of the female form popped to mind, but she quickly quashed it. It would be inappropriate.

"Educated guess. I've ordered a lot of uniforms in my time."

"Well, thanks. I'd appreciate that, ma'am. All I've got is my gun, my armour and this spare uniform that Dr Chakwas found me in the med-bay…" she trailed off as she pulled at the fabric of her navy blue tee-shirt. "Everything else was on Eden Prime."

Scraping her chair backwards, Shepard gestured with her head for Ashley to follow. Taking one last slurp of her drink and mouthful of her stew, the soldier complied, getting to her aching feet and following the swift footed Commander. They walked through the mess hall and galley, towards the Executive Officer's cabin. Compressing the lock over-ride, Shepard gestured with one hand for Ashley to walk through first.

The room was simple. White walls and black furniture, all kept to a neat-freak standard of clean. The Normandy had only been recently deployed, so there hadn't been much time for Shepard to get comfortable, but even still, it was stark. The bed was made to military standards, there were no photos, no books, nothing personal at all. The desk in the middle took up most of the space, and the double bed was relegated to a corner, next to the small closet that Shepard had just dived her head into. Ashley eyed the bed off enviously, wondering how many more months or years it would be before she got to experience a bed bigger than those given to your average human child.

"Nice cabin," Ashley remarked, looking around. Even if it was completely devoid of personality, it was about ten times bigger than the personal space she'd be getting.

"Yeah," Shepard said absentmindedly, rifling through the built in drawers of her closet. "This is my first appointment as XO. I'll admit, it feels weird. I keep going to the dorm rooms and just standing there for a full ten seconds before I realise I don't actually have a bunk in there. After so long in the military… it just feels wrong that I don't belong in there anymore."

For a moment, the tone in Shepard's voice became sad, and Ashley suspected she may have just stumbled across the reason for Shepard sitting alone at mealtime. If she was honest with herself, she would never have sat with the Commander unless she'd been specifically asked to, preferring to dine with the other grunts. But Shepard had been the only person even willing to make eye contact with her. And maybe it would be a good idea to get on the good side of her CO straight off the bat.

"This should do it," Shepard announced, stepping back from the closet with an armful of clothing.

She did a quick scan of Ashley's body and pursed her lips to the side. "You're a little bit bigger than me," she said when her eyes trailed past Ashley's chest, "but these should get you through the next day."

She handed it out, one piece at a time. An unopened value packet of underwear, a sports bra with the tags still on it, and an N7 tank top. The underwear was the perfect size, much to Ashley's surprise given their different body shapes. The bra was a size too small but would be stretchable. Ashley couldn't help but take a sideways glance at the Commander, wrinkling her brow. The navy blue hides a lot… a deceptively ample bosom, for example.

"I can't accept this one," Ashley said, handing back the N7 top, "I haven't earned it."

Shepard's brow furrowed. "I have heaps of them. They're comfortable to sleep in," she said with a shrug.

Ashley hesitated for a moment. The appeal of a long, hot shower and a comfortable bed was overwhelming. There weren't many other options, and she didn't feel like sleeping half naked in a dorm with nine other crew-mates.

"Are you sure?" Ashley asked politely, bringing the tank under the crook of her arm with the underwear, wondering why she was seriously giving the Commander the option to deny her the sleeping gear, "I'll give it back as soon as soon as my rec order's come in."

"There's really no need, but if that'd make you feel more comfortable, then you can do that," Shepard said, giving the marine another small smile.

"Thank you, ma'am," Ashley replied, looking back down at the clothing. She knew she shouldn't push, but she just couldn't keep her mouth closed. "I gotta ask, what's with the brand new underwear? You some kind of hoarder?"

Shepard threw back head and laughed. Ashley was almost shocked by the suddenness of it. "You don't mince words, do you Chief?"

"No ma'am."

"I can respect that. Yes, I suppose my obsessive need for organisation could be described as hoarding. I… always like to know that I'll have a clean pair of clothes and a sturdy pair of shoes. An... old habit."

The Commander left the topic there, and Ashley dropped it. If Shepard had strange storage habits, it was her own damn business.

Shepard began striding towards the door, grabbing a datapad off her desk on the way. Ashley fell into step with her, being led back through the mess hall and to the crew quarters at the back of the ship. Shepard made a small sound of disapproval, tapping away furiously on the datapad again. The sound came out again, louder this time, followed by a whispered "damn".

"I'm sorry, Chief, we've got a full house," Shepard murmured. The absurdity nearly overwhelmed Ash for a moment. After the long, grueling, traumatic day she'd had, the idea that she had nowhere to sleep was almost enough to make her cry. "I've got Jenkins' cot available, and that's it. I'm sorry."

Ashley wasn't quite sure what to say. Being in the marines, you got used to not being picky with bunks. She had figured she'd get relegated to his slot, it wasn't like there was a great deal of spare room on a ship. As long as the kid hadn't actually died in the bed, Ash was easy.

Shepard stepped into the cramped room, and Ashley trailed behind. "This one," the Commander said pointing to the corner bottom bunk.

It had already been stripped and all his personal effects removed, as if he'd never been there to begin with. The Alliance had a way of doing that. Just when you thought you mattered, that you were special, they did something like this to remind you that you were just a number.

"Are you okay with this?" Shepard asked. It was a stupid question. The options were to sleep in the available bunk, or take up a spot on the floor. But Ashley appreciated the thought. She wondered what the Commander would've done if she'd said no. Offered to top'n'tail in her cabin for the rest of the tour? Ashley almost laughed at the idea of them having pillow fights and wearing matching flannelette pajamas to bed. She was way too overtired...

Instead, she steadied herself and shot off a sharp salute. "No problem, ma'am."

Shepard looked relieved, and returned the salute. "Good to have you on board, Chief. Muster is at 0500 hours, but given the day you've had, you have my permission to commence your duties at 0900 hours. Commander's authority."

"Thank you, ma'am, but 0500 will be fine," Ashley answered quickly. There was no way she was going to accept any sort of special treatment. She was a part of this crew now, and she was going to earn her place.

"Suit yourself, Chief. The offer still stands. We've put you in the armoury for the moment. A bit of a waste of your talents, but it will only be temporary. I'll make sure of that."

Ashley felt a wave of relief wash over her. Guns and armour. Two of her favourite things. She could do that. Maybe being on the Normandy wouldn't be so bad.

"Aye aye, ma'am."