A/N: Thanks for the feedback from the last chapter! This chapter, which was kind of unexpected, to be honest, has grown out of the idea of putting Jack and Shepard in a room together with a film and seeing what happened. For some reason it seems to have turned out more funny than angsty, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I guess there's only so long Shepard can have a pity party for, anyway.

Chapter Two

Shepard flumped down backwards onto her bed, eyes staring unseeing at the stars, as she thought back to her recent conversation with Jack. What had possessed her to tell the crazy biotic so much of her back-story? She hadn't told anyone from the old Normandy, not even Garrus, who… well. She didn't want to think about that now. As she thought, she sighed. Well, who else was there? The guys were out, obviously. Miranda… just no. The idea of the Cerberus Operative being able to have a heart-to-heart was just laughable. Then there was Kelly Chambers. What she'd seen of the Yeoman she'd liked, but talking to her about rape, and starving, and assassination? It'd be like squashing a fluffy kitten. A fluffy kitten that was watching you, all trust and big eyes and… Shepard rolled over with a groan and buried her face in a pillow.

As much as she thought about it, Jack was the only person on the ship who could even come close to understanding her. Besides, every time she looked at the biotic she could see the little girl underneath, scared and fragile. The thing that frightened Shepard, that made it a little too close to home, was that she couldn't tell if that kid was Jack or her younger self.

Well, maybe some war vids and a lot of booze would be nice anyway. The Port Observation Lounge was empty, and when she'd been poking around the ship she'd found a bar in there. Besides, she liked the crazy little kid. She'd mention it to Jack tomorrow, maybe. But for now, there were datapads and dossiers to read, and mining to be done.

With that unpleasant thought, Shepard boosted herself from the bed and started to head downstairs. Then she glanced down at herself. She was still wearing the Cerberus uniform she'd found on her bed that first night. Going over to her closet, she prodded through it until she found something that wasn't Cerberus-tainted. Admittedly she looked like the height of colonist fashion about 20 years ago, but it was a start. She could see some of her tattoos through the gaps in the clothes. A lot of them were partial, or missing, since she'd been… resurrected. She'd have to get them redone when they hit the Citadel next.

'Commander Shepard, Operative Lawson has asked me to remind you that the upgrades you have scheduled for the Normandy require a great many resources'. EDI's blue eyeball popped up in the corner of the room with what seemed like a reproving blink. Shepard shuddered, and started to make her way downstairs, mentally muttering the mantra 'Don't anthropomorphise the AI' over and over again. She was so never watching Space Odyssey ever again.

As it happened, it wasn't until after Zorya that Shepard had another chance to talk to Jack. The mission to save the facility and get Vido Santiago had gone spectacularly wrong, and had ended with Shepard suffering from a minor asthma attack caused by the smoke from the fires. Garrus had had to carry her back to the shuttle as the Cerberus crewmen who had come down to help with the evacuation looked on in a mixture of curiosity and amusement. This certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Shepard was less than impressed by Garrus's decision to carry her and had in fact objected by kicking him repeatedly in the plates and swearing every time she caught a breath as he carried her towards the med bay. Unfortunately, turians being what they were, all this meant was that Dr Chakwas had to splint her broken toes as well as setting up a steroid-laced breather to help with the asthma.

A few hours later found Shepard sitting grumpily in her bed, wearing fluffy pyjamas loaned to her by Kelly Chambers, and under an order by the doctor to remain off-duty for three days to make sure her lungs recovered acceptably. She'd put all the model ships she'd found on Omega together, stuck the paper she'd been assembling them on to her fingers with the epoxy resin, polished her armour, and read all her e-mails. She had never been so bored in her life. Checking the timer she'd set on her omnitool she groaned as she realised that there were still 68 hours still to go before she could be cleared for a mission again.

She started to search through her collection of war vids, and brightened up as she remembered the suggestion she'd made to Jack. Tapping at her omnitool, she sent off a quick message.

Jack. Confined to quarters for three days. Bring booze. S. -

A few minutes later, she received a reply.

wheres chambers?/ -

Not here. S. -

cool, be there soon –

True enough, 20 minutes later Jack shouldered her way through the door and swaggered across the room, carrying several bottles of batarian ale and a bag. Spotting Shepard curled up in bed, she raised one eyebrow.

'Didn't know we were having a sleepover, Shepard. What's with the pjs?'

Shepard grumbled slightly. 'Chambers. Anyway, what's with the bag?'

Jack looked a little sheepish, but rallied. 'We're watching vids, right? I got some popcorn from Gardner.'

Throwing herself down onto the bed, Jack grabbed a handful of popcorn and chewed with an open mouth. Shepard rifled through the vids, finally snatching one up with a cackle of delight.

'Oh, wow, I forgot I had this!'

Jack leaned over to look at the case Shepard was holding in her hands.

'Citadel, huh? Wassat?' she asked, spraying chewed popcorn on the case and smearing it off with one hand. Shepard cracked the case open and slotted the disk into the reader. The black screen popped up and the holo-film glowed into action.

'It's a film about…well, about the Battle of the Citadel. Shows me and the crew trying to get to Saren. Apparently it's really terrible, but plenty of explosions. Should be good for a laugh, right?'

Jack grunted, and settled back against the piled pillows Shepard had arranged against the wall. 'I could do with a laugh'.

One horribly long hour later found the girls with their heads tilted to the side, identical expressions of bemusement on their faces.

'Did you…?' Jack started.

'No'.

A few minutes passed.

'How about…?'

'No'.

Further silence.

'Before you ask, no, no, and… actually, I did do that.'

'Which one? The sex act with the asari and the pilot, or the thing with the…'

'NO! Pushing that merc out of a window. Although, actually, that was later.' A dreamy smile crossed her face. 'He bounced beautifully…'

Jack cackled again. 'You might actually be okay, Shepard'.

Shepard sniffed. 'I'm surprised you ever thought otherwise.' The two girls chinked their bottles of ale together and settled back for the next terrifying instalment.

Half an hour later, the movie had taken a definitely disturbing turn, at least as far as Shepard was concerned. She was clutching the bottle of ale like a lifeline, her other hand clenched in her pillow, hoping and praying Jack wasn't going to ask the question she knew was coming.

'So, did…'

'I never slept with Garrus! I've never even thought about sleeping with Garrus! He'd be all… alien and… spiky. Okay, now I'm thinking about it! Sheesh! What is with this film!'

Jack had gone eerily quiet. Shepard prodded her in the side, trying to elicit a response, before following the direction the tattooed biotic was staring in.

Garrus was standing at the door, holding a plate of food, looking highly affronted.

'Oh, hi, Garrus!' Shepard chirped, putting on what she knew was a manically cheery face.

'Chakwas said you were confined to your room, so I brought you some of that disgusting pizza stuff you like. Can I come in, or am I too "alien and spiky" to be allowed into the Loft?'

At first, Shepard thought that the turian was genuinely offended, but by the time he'd raised his unoccupied hand to make what he persisted in calling 'air talons' at her, she knew she was forgiven.

'Well,' she rubbed her chin thoughtfully, 'I don't know about alien and spiky, but you're definitely too ugly.'

'Heh, you're just jealous.' Garrus made his way across the room and climbed onto Shepard's side of the bed. 'What are you watching, anyway?'

Shepard threw the box at him wordlessly.

He considered it for a few seconds, and then looked up at her in horror, mandibles spread with the shock. 'Spirits, Shepard, why would you watch this?'

'Well, this crew I had who're meant to be all loyal and shit neglected to tell me that my name had been used for what is basically a space-porno!'

Jack, who had been watching the interchange curled on the other side of the bed like an oversized, tattooed cat, butted in at this point. 'Hey, I'm offended by that. I'm on your crew and I'm not fucking loyal.'

'Shh, sweetie, you can mutiny later,' Shepard said soothingly, waving one hand at her, and turning back to Garrus, eyes narrowed. 'You told me, and I quote: 'It's a terrible film, but it has some great explosions'. What explosions were you talking about, Vakarian?'

'Spirits, Shepard, I meant the bit where the Citadel blows up! We were just hoping you weren't going to watch it.'

Shepard's eyebrow quirked. 'Ooh, the Citadel blows up? I haven't got to that bit yet!' The trio glanced over at the screen, where the turian and human actor were still… engaged. 'Oh god, EDI, turn it off!'

Garrus stood up. 'Well… I'm going to… calibrate… something', he mumbled, stumbling backwards out of the room.

As the doors slid shut, Jack collapsed in fits of laughter. Shepard shot her a dirty look, but held out the pizza that Garrus had left behind. Jack calmed down enough to take a slice, and settled back against the pillows again, staring up at the skylight above Shepard's bed.

'So I reckon we've done the vids and the sex talk, if you count trying not to talk about it. What's next, Shep?'

'I dunno. Get hammered?'

'Nah.' Jack pushed herself up from the bed. 'As much fun as this's been, I'm not really one for… y'know. Socialising and shit.' Grabbing the last full bottle of ale and a few more slices of pizza, she meandered out of the room, poking her head back in to throw a final jibe at Shepard.

'If you ever call me sweetie again I'll murder you in your fucking sleep.'

'Sweet dreams,' Shepard carolled back, and moodily settled back against the pillows again. 66 hours to go.