-Jane-

"Given all that has happened," Councilor Tevos begins, her clothes as immaculate as ever but not coming close to hiding the weary look and exhaustion in her light gray eyes. "I am sure your recommendation will carry a great deal of weight, Commander. Do you support any particular candidate?"

Jane holds her expression firm, the arm not hung in a sling at her chest tensing subtly against her back in her parade rest. The air in the small room of the Embassy the Ambassador designated for this little meeting of 'good will' and she inwardly cursed that, once again, she was getting asked to make decisions she had no right sticking her head in.

What the hell do this people expect from a God damn punk from Earth? I didn't sign up for this shit. She relaxes her arm from her back and glances to her right to the pompous asshole Udina, then to Captain Anderson, the only damn person in this entire metal deathtrap that actually cared to listen to a word she said, on her left. Inwardly sighing at how it seems these three supposed leaders have their heads so far up their asses they have to ask some grunt for political advice, she locks eyes with the one out of the group that will most understand what she has to say, despite their numerous differences.

"This isn't the beginning, not even close," she says to the Council while maintaining eye contact with the green eyes of the Turian Councilor. My gut better be right on this."The Council doesn't need another member to write laws and attend parades, it needs someone who knows war and knows what it takes to make the hard decisions." A dark brow plates lifts subtly. "You want more of what Humanity showed against Sovereign? Then you want Captain Anderson."

Her fears of having her instincts proven horribly wrong are slightly lifted at the soft twitch of Sparatus' mandible - good, cater to the soldier instead of the politician, thank you Garrus and you lessons on Turian politics - but all of their attentions are drawn to Udina's insulted scoff. "Him? You must be joking…" Jane narrows her eyes, but fights the pull at her lips at the caked look around his left eye that must be a bad job at concealer work. "Anderson prefers to let his fists do the talking."

Anderson lifts an unimpressed brow and opens his lips to retort, but the deep, dual vibrations of Councilor Sparatus interrupts the start of the two men's tiff. "As surprising as it may be," now there's the Spartatus I know… asshole, "the Commander may actually have a hand on the truth, in her own special way of putting it. The Citadel would benefit greatly with more of Humanity's military influence."

She knows what his isn't saying, that Humanity will help to offset the countless Turians that populate the combined military powers under Citadel order, but she figures that it's better than nothing. Let the Council use the Alliance and humans to fill in spots in C-Sec and Citadel fleet. Humanity needs something to prove they can give just as much as they demand and appealing to the Turian's sense of duty and servitude is the best way, despite the fact that most humans will need to swallow their pride long enough to prove they aren't all just a bunch of arrogant pricks.

"I think it's an inspired choice." Tevos says with a smile that doesn't reach past her lips, most likely perfected over the years at telling bold-faced lies to the rest of the galaxy. "The Council would welcome Captain Anderson with open arms, should he accept."

I know I'm strapping you to a desk, she thinks to the older soldier. But look at the larger picture. We all won't last, humans and aliens, if we can't get it through their thick skulls to see that this isn't the end. We all can't be so lucky to expect the Reapers will just stop at Sovereign.

Almost seeming to hear her silent plea, Anderson smiles softly, his brown eyes glancing to hers a split moment before locking back on the Councilors, and stands at relaxed attention with the polished latches and buttons of his formal attire glistening in the high lights. "I'm honored, Councilors. As humanity's representative, I'll do everything in my power to help the Council rebuild."

Jane watches the Councilors' faces for their acceptance, ranging from the emotionless smile of Tevos, the silent scrutiny of Velarn's hooded eyes, and the slight lower and rise of Sparatus' mandibles, and silently releases the breath she didn't know she was holding. She may not be a complete expert at Asari expressions or had enough time to really even get to know what the Salarian Councilor is thinking, but she doesn't have to question that she at least convinced the Turian. Guess the arrogant bastard can manage to hold in his distain long enough to realize that I actually have something good to say most of the time.

"Sovereign's defeat marks the beginning of a new era for both humanity and the Council." It's the closest thing she'll get to acceptance from the plated dick, but it'll do.

"If that's all you need me for?" The other's nod at her lifted brow and she nods out the large window towards a crew of workers that are trying to yank a large pieces of some unnamable chunk of metal. "This doesn't end with Sovereign. That was one Reaper and we barely managed out of that fight with half our asses intact." She scowls and crosses her uninjured arm under the one in the sling. "I'll be damned if I just stay by and let the whole fleet of those metal bastards fuck us with our collective pants down."

She leave them with shocked expressions, now-Councilor Anderson the only one who manages a twitch to his lip with a slight shake of his head. She hears his deep voice boom out some kind of agreement before the doors of the meeting room slide shut at her back, but doesn't bother to actually pay any mind as she continues on her way, she's had enough politics to last her for quite some time. Plus, she has a celebration with her crew to attend to at Flux, preferably after a quick change into something not her uniform, and she'll be damned if she wastes any more time she could be using with a drink in hand.

Flux is filled with a majority of the Normandy's crew, both ground teams and non-essential personnel that manage the everyday workings that keep the ship in the skies, and a small number of Citadel workers clearly in need of something to ease their bodies after long days of working through the rubble that litters the once-prestine Presidium. She only manages a step into the darkened establishment before she is bombarded by her Gunnery Chief who promptly shoves a glass of something into her free hand.

"Williams," she says with a smile. "Doing well I see." She nods to the woman's shoulder that had taken a hit on Virmire, the only sign that she was injured the slight stiffness most likely from a bandage. "What's this?" She holds up the glass of strong smelling liquor.

"Whiskey," she says, as if Jane should know. "First drink is always on me. Call in a Williams's tradition."

She doesn't give Jane a chance to question just what the hell that even means when she nudges the bottom of the cup in efforts to lift it up to her chin. Succeeding, Jane takes a big gulp of the drink, nearly gagging at the horrid taste and burning as it goes down.

"Jesus-Fucking-Christ, Ash," she coughs, really considering spitting into the last remaining bit of poison just to try and elevate the taste assaulting her tongue and damn the consequences. "What the hell is this?"

She chuckles warmly and rolls her eyes. "Cheapest thing in the place, Skipper. Didn't I tell you that the Williams's tradition is that you drink a glass of the shitty thing in the bar before you actually get to celebrate? We've been doing it since before the First Contact War."

Jane snorts and tilts the glass to inspect the disgusting liquid. "Your family needs hobbies, Ash." The Chief opens her mouth. "Better hobbies."

At that, the Lieutenant appears at Ashley's side, only slightly winded from what must be his first outing since taking a hit to the stomach. "Don't worry, Shepard. She ambushed everyone with one of those things." He makes a show of cringing, but it isn't much as his hand unconsciously moves to his abdomen. "Pretty sure we all had to finish it before Ash would let us have anything else," he says with a smile to the darker skinned woman, who only huffs in mock-exasperation.

"Yeah, yeah. You're so mistreated, LT." She pats him on the back and nods back towards a table with some of the navigation crew. "Why don't you go sit before you make a fool of yourself?" she asks with a smirk. "Wouldn't want Chakwas to drag you back to the ship before the fun starts."

He laughs softly at some shared joke and Jane lifts an interested brow, but manages to just the moment they shift their attention to taking jabs at each other to slide further into the bar, hopefully to find somewhere –or someone- to drop off this horrid insult of a drink. Halfway to the bar, she finds Tali, Ilden, and Poe with a smaller group of the engineers.

"You aren't giving Poe drinks are you?" she asks with a cock to her hip, though the immobile arm really takes away from the reprimand. "I don't even know what Drell drinking ages are, but I'm pretty sure she's too young."

Tali snorts around her straw, some glass of purple liquid bubbling in the glass at that, and Poe turns a smile up in assurance. "I was speaking with…" she pauses in confused thought before her face relaxes, "Ilden about our people's culture and history. It has been very informative."

Jane looks to the masked assassin -still in the damned mask? And they say Garrus has a stick up his ass - and narrows her eyes at the slip of the younger Drell. Normally, Poe wouldn't hesitate in her thought unless she was remembering something. She never had a look of confusion as to how to approach a subject, even blurting out brutal honesty at times. It certainly was interesting, to say the least.

Setting her glass on the table, she leans her free hand on its surface and gives the masked Drell the best look of intimidation she can must in her predicament, ignoring Tali's shift to get a better view of the 'show'. First the sling and now I decided to wear a damned low cut shirt, real genius move there, Jane. Reflective lenses look up to her narrowed eyes and she asks with a flat tone, "So, you and Poe getting along?"

"Yes," he assures with a slight nod. "It is not often that I get a chance to speak with another of my people." He glances to Poe and the young girl's red eyes tighten in a warm smile. "Even more so when I can offer insight and answer her questions."

She nods at that, still trying to stall before she gets to the point. "That's good. Poe certainly could use some Drell insight." She shrugs and lets her eyes drift up and around the room. "Too bad it seems like you're teaching her bad habits." Ilden tilts his head in confusion and she snorts at the sight of the expressionless mask somehow portraying his emotion. "Oh please, Poe has a tendency to just spit out things without considering the consequences." Tali giggles and Jane smirks at what the Quarian is remembering. "You'd be surprised how long it took everyone to explain that she shouldn't just call someone a 'glorified fucktard'."

Poe's lips pout and she huff at Tali's cackle. Obviously someone is a bit of a light-weight with her liquor. "Well, the woman was."

Jane chuckles at the frustration the young girl still has when thinking about the couple they had met on the Citadel that were arguing over fetal enhancements. That was definitely a story that deserved to be remembered as it definitely taught Jane to watch her mouth while around the impressionable girl else she let her opinion know, despite obvious communication taboos.

Waving off the Quarian's laughter and Poe's upset with a shake of her head to clear her own amusement, Jane says, "In short, Poe doesn't suddenly develop a filter unless someone tells her to."

She'd like to think that the man's eyes must have widen in sudden realization, at least that's what she'll say if anyone asks, and he nods in understanding with a slight chuckle. "It seems that I misjudged your ability of observation again."

She shrugs with a smirk. "Many doubt my skills. You'll get used to it."

"Keelah, so modest." Tali rolls her helmeted head on her shoulders in an exaggerated eye roll, but her white eyes are narrowed in humor.

Jane holds out her free arm in a 'what can I say?' expression, but doesn't speak as Ilden continues with warmth in his voice that she can assume is a bit of a smile. "You certainly have a way with your crew. You gave them hope in battle without physically needing to be on the ship, their strength a direct mirror of your own confidence." He crosses his hands on the table and leans against them, shifting slightly closer. "You may not think so, but just by showing trust in me and acceptance despite what I'm sure is my frustrating nature not to reveal myself to you. Because of that, and because of all that you have done for countless others by standing for what you believe in, I consider you a friend." He leans back in his seat in the first sign of relaxation she's seen in the normally stiff and stuffy assassin. "Poe was hesitant because she feared that I would not like you to know my real name."

Jane can't help the deep breath that makes her lips make a soft pop noise. Of course the damn assassin wouldn't use his real name and, sure, that's all fine and dandy, but that doesn't stop her from considering just walking away from the conversation to return when she's had some more drinks. "Sure, I'll bite," she says as she tosses back the last of the nasty whiskey, coughing as the burn slides down her throat. "Why do you hide your name?"

Poe smiles and takes her empty glass to lay it on the table top. "It's easier to hide one's identity with a pseudo name, both for any possible family and personal preference."

"Come on, Shepard," Tali slurs as she twists her body in to what Jane can only assume would be a teasing manner of knowing more than others if the Quarian wasn't so wobbly and literally falling against her maskedfriend's side. "Don't you know that everyone leaves an electronic signature, no matter how much they try to mask and cover their tracks? It's, like, electronically impossible to get into data without leaving even a minute trace."

Ilden – or whatever the hell his name is- chuckles and helps right Tali. "I won't bore you with tech talk, but she's technically right, even if a bit vague in her description. No matter how skilled the hacker, they will always leave a piece of their work behind. As result, I believed it was more beneficial to work under a false name so that I could keep my life separate from my work."

Jane shrugs and waves off the explanation. "Okay, then. Really? You could tell me it's because your mother named you Sue and I'd believe you because I don't know shit about tech. Ask Tali when she's sober enough to not giggle with each sentence."

"I understand. Just know that you, if you choose, may call me Kal." He held out his hand in a human greeting. "It is a pleasure to know you, Commander Shepard."

Blinking at his offered limb, it takes her a moment to catch the low chuckle from his muffled features and she takes his hand with a shake to her head. "Can't say I've ever managed to meet someone twice, but I'll take it." She gives his hand a single shake, professional as always, and steps back. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have a few more greetings to give before I can finally cut the act and get shit faced," she jokes with a smirk, knowing full well she wouldn't dare get herself into such a position in front of her crew, whether most are staying or not, but doesn't elaborate.

Leaving the two Drell to tend to the giggling Quarian and continue to trade stories of their people, Jane approaches a table with Joker, Wrex, Liara, and Kaidan. "Hey, Shepard," Joker greets with a sly smirk. "See I finished that glass of gasoline Ash likes to call a drink. Too bad you can't request another, I hear she's off somewhere, most likely trying to waterboard some other poor bastard with it."

Liara holds up a glass of something lightly green and offers an empty glass. "Would you like some, Shepard? It's quite delicious, fruity with a hint of something minty."

She shakes her head in a polite no as Wrex scoffs, his own large hand wrapped tightly around a big glass of something clear and slightly oily. "Enough with your girly drinks, Asari. You need this, Shepard," he holds up his glass, "puts plates on your hide."

"That's imagery I'd rather not have had," Kaidan holds a hand to his forehead, but he has a warm smile on his lips.

"As delightful as that sounds, Wrex," she starts with a smirk and shrugs in mock disappointment. "I can't. I got to find a way to repair the Normandy's paint job and my looks are my money makers. How else would I pay the bills, actual Spectre work?"

The table laughs as Williams joins them, offering a glass of something and promising it to be something actually good. Taking a sip, Jane hums at the taste of a rum and cola and pats the Chief in silent thanks. Better than drinking a damn fruit bar or that piss she offered earlier. Dismissing herself as the two Alliance soldiers start to prod the others about the fight they had to sit out of, Jane takes the moment to finally search out the one she really wants to spend the night with now that her obligation of playing nice is over.

She nearly chokes at the sight of him at the bar with another Turian, and just any Turian, but a female that's clearly interested in him if her blatant up and down's over his turned form and loose motions to try and get closer without his notice is anything to go by. Garrus doesn't seem interested, his posture straight and stoic, but he does seem to know her as Jane watches his hands move in that usual way he has when he's retelling some story. He glances her way, locking silvery-blue eyes with hers across the club, and motions with his head to join him before he says something to his 'companion'.

Shit, I hope this isn't some sick way at getting back at me for making him up with keeping us a secret this whole damn mission, she thinks as she sighs and follows his call.

The woman notices her approach, moving to offer greeting as Garrus introduces them. "Commander, this is Octavia Maxima. Octavia, Commander Shepard." He flicks a mandible behind the woman's back as she moves back to her seat at the bar, her clearly flirty nature back to something more professional at his superior's advance.

"Commander," she offers, her cream plates tightening under her golden colony paints. "I'm one the Hierarchy's military advisors to Councilor Sparatus. Garrus has made sure to mention that it's you we should be thanking for managing to assist our forces in defending the Destiny Ascension." She smiles warmly and it actually manages to soften the rounded lines around her eyes and features a bit despite the fact that the woman was pretty much just denied from her advances. "So, with that. Thank you, Commander."

Jane nods and holds her glass to the woman's offered drink, letting her cup clink against the lower half of the offered glass so as not to assure against the possibility of cross contamination. "You can't expect a clean shitter if you don't bother to flush," she offers with a shrug and takes a drink from her glass, hoping this woman doesn't spend the entire night trying to get in her husband's pants.

Garrus chuckles at Octavia's confused expression and helps to explain. "That means 'don't mention it'." The Turian woman raises a brow at him and he shrugs around a drink from his own glass. "You get used to reading her after spending months under her command."

Some kind of silent conversation must be going on between the two as Jane feels the air between her and the Turian woman suddenly get heavy before the plated woman shifts to a stand. "It's been a pleasure to see you again, Garrus." She turns to Jane with a straight expression she's gotten used to on every other damn Turian that's trying to get their faces blank. "And you, Commander. An honor to meet the first human Spectre, you have proven to many that humans aren't what we expected."

Jane holds her glass in silent thanks for the half-assed compliment and watches the woman's hips sway as she crosses the floor in confidence, even managing to attract the attentions of some of the male Turians trying to use the club to relax. She sighs a motions for a refill, rubbing her shoulder at the odd feeling of useless jealousy that damned woman brought on.

It isn't until after the bartender fills her drink again and moves on that Garrus scoots into the seat beside her and purr low in his chest where she can feel against their touching knees more than hear. "You seem bothered," he offers while keeping his eyes ahead.

"I'm fine. Just wondering if my Spectre authority would get me out of suddenly finding a Reaper spy in the Councilor's advising committee." She offers a weak smirk to his raised brow and he laughs.

"Don't tell me you're jealous," he lowers his head and all but purrs. "While I won't say no to seeing you get possessive, I think it may interfere with your attempts at trying to stay professional in public."

She snorts and swats half-heartedly against his side. "Should have known you'd get off on cat-fights." He shrugs shamelessly and takes a drink. "So, you know her?" She thumbs back over her shoulder, not really caring if the woman is even in that direction anymore.

"Octavia? Yeah," he huffs softly and shakes his head. "Haven't seen her since before I left the military."

She raised a red brow and smirks. "Oh? She your 'Miss Flexibility'?"

He drops his now-empty glass on the counter and glares at her. "Should I be expecting that to be in the annals with my name? 'Garrus Vakarian, Sniper Extraordinaire and Reach to Their Flexibility.'"

She laughs fully at that, eyes tearing at the sight it would be, despite not knowing exactly what annals are but figuring their pretty much the Turian equivalent to an epitaph. He flicks a mandible with an amused chuckle and waves for a refill, waiting for the bartender to leave them before he continues.

"Anyways. No, Octavia wasn't the recon scout. She was a battlefield analyst. I didn't even serve with her outside of my initial term on the Stalwart." He quiets and stares at his glass swirling the dark amber a bit before continuing with a softer tone. "I guess you could say that we had a long time where we were seeing each other."

Jane frowns and that and bites her lip, wondering if she really wants to know the answer to this question. Deciding that, even if it makes her feel a bit awkward, she'd like to know he had felt happiness in a relationship before because she doesn't really know what that's like outside of holos and extranet stories. "Do you miss it?"

He blinks at that and turns to her, his brows drawn down, before he shakes his head. "No, not really." He sighs at her confusion and takes a drink from his glass. "I don't think it's like how you're thinking. What I had with her was… it felt routine. She wanted to get into political development as soon as her mandatory military service allowed and I wanted to get away from Palaven. I felt stifled in the home system while she felt like she could be satisfied with staying in one place, I just couldn't help but feel empty." He runs the back of his talons against the condensation of his glass. "With her, I felt empty. Sex was just a release, our interactions felt hollow, and I thought that that was normal because I didn't really know anything else existed."

He takes a drink from his glass before motioning another. "We drifted apart, and neither one of us really cared to work at maintaining something we could easily find with someone in our area. Physical attraction wasn't even to really feel the need to bother with the distance."

"That actually sounds really depressing," Jane admits as she pushes the falling strands of her hair behind her ear to keep it from getting her drink as she swallow the last of her glass. "Is that normal? To feel nothing for someone you're in a relationship with?"

He chuckles weakly and shakes his head. "You're looking at it wrong. It wasn't like we hated each other, just that we didn't have this irresistible, irrational need to be constantly with each other." He shrugs. "I guess the best way to describe it is that we didn't love each other, not in the way two bondmates would." He huffs in frustration and tries again to explain. "You have to understand that Turians don't always find their bondmates and it's quite common to see a couple that isn't bonded, but have taken to living together and even raising children together."

She lays her hand against the counter so that his downcast eyes can see her silent cue that it's okay, he doesn't need to try to explain. She's sure it's some kind of Turian cultural thing, to fall into a relationship with someone they don't truly love. Humans do it and it often ends in divorce, so what's to say that they way of just not bothering to bond is any different? It just seems like a sad way to live life going through the motions without any true thought.

"I didn't lie to you," he says softly as he strokes the back of a knuckle against her hand before taking his glass. "When I said Turians bond for life, I meant it."

She looks to his worried eyes, the beautiful orbs glistening in fear that she won't understand, and she offers him a warm smile in assurance. "I think I get it." His expression loosens a bit and she shrugs. "I mean, I might not get all of it, but I'm not really the best example of a stable social life. For the longest time, I couldn't combine fucking with actually caring, so maybe I'm closer to understanding than I even thought." She pats his free hand once before moving away. "Still can't say as that I don't think that it's a bit sad to consider."

He nods in the most agreement on the matter he'll give before he lets her finish off her glass, taking a drink of his own in response. "So," he starts timidly, "I was thinking about something we've talked about not too long ago."

She raises a brow. "Oh? We've talked about quite a bit, care to elaborate?"

He chuckles and motions for a refill of her drink. "Yeah, I've been thinking of reapplying for the Spectres. I know it'd result in me being taken of the Normandy, but I was pretty sure the Alliance were going to kick me off anyways the moment you get your next mission."

She snorts in agreement and nods. "You know them so well. Truth is, I'm damn proud to hear it." She smirk. "Even though I'm going to be really lost without my tank's mechanic."

He snorts and flicks a mandible in the Turian equivalent to an eye roll. "Please, I sent that thing to recovery long ago. There was no saving it after what you pulled on Ilos."

She shrugs and takes the fresh glass with a thanks. "You're just jealous that you didn't think of that entrance." She sobers a bit and stares into the deep depths of his eyes. "But I'm serious, you deserve a shot at the Spectres and they'd be insane to think you aren't cut out for the job."

"And I figured we could always do with another Spectre on the Council about the Reapers," he hums with a lowered brow plate. "I already have a feeling that they expected you to take out Saren and not uncover some dark mystery that's bound to wipe out all intelligent life. If I become a Spectre, then maybe they'll have more reason to pay attention."

"It also wouldn't hurt to have someone who isn't a member of the new arrivals trying to knock some sense into them," she added with a side-ways smile. "Plus, I can't help but think you're just doing this because you think I'm hiding all the good weapons from you."

He chuckles and nudges her shoulder. "I do think I could have sworn there was a barrel of a sniper rifle poking out from under your bed."

"Yep, and you were too busy trying to get into my pants to notice." He snorts and that. "Sorry Vakarian, you only get one shot at trying to find my stash and you blew it. Now it's going to in an entirely different place that you'll never find."

"It's probably just in the damn Mako," he grumbles with a smirk and she laughs.

"I'm going to miss you on my ship, Officer." She pats him on the back in a way that most will just consider to be friendly. "But I won't complain if I get to address you as Spectre the next time we meet."

He flicks a mandible in appreciation, entirely understanding the hidden meaning of complete approval – and she hopes the pride – she has in his decision. She wasn't kidding when she told him he should consider reapplying, he's skilled and determined, the perfect candidate for a job most aren't cut out for and a waste of potential slogging away at some menial desk job on the Citadel. She can't bear to see his light fade under the bureaucracy of the Citadel his father seems to think fit for his only son and she knows without a doubt that her confidence has nothing to do with their relationship and everything to do with what she knows is right.

"Now," she says after swallowing down the last of her drink and slamming the glass to the bar surface. "If you'll excuse me, it looks like some of my crew are moving towards the dance floor." She motions with her head towards the groups of overjoyed Alliance crew with smiles on their slightly drunk faces as they crowd up to the lit tiles to sway to the music. "I do believe that, as their Commander, they need someone to show them how to properly celebrate."

He snorts as he sets his empty glass down. "You finally going to show them that that stiff shuffle you do isn't really how you dance?" He shakes his head with a confused look on his slightly fluid features, the liquor obviously loosening him up. "Why do you even do that?"

She lays her uninjured fist on her hip and mock glares. "Because I expect the lot of them to manage to follow orders come morning and I can't very well expect that when all they think about is how I dance like a stripper."

He raises a brow, but actually stands up to follow her. "How is that any different from the way everyone else dances?"

"Because they shouldn't be trying to get into my pants." She can't help the laugh at his face when it finally clicks as she slides into the crowd to entertain with her 'moves'.

SquigglySquid says- And that's the end of Genesis. I may not post the next for a while as I need to plan out the fic before I write to help me visualize the whole story, but it will be on the way for all to enjoy (well, maybe not Garrus).