This is the sequel to Jimmy Vega's Illustrious Stripping Career.

In this story, we will journey though the six months Shepard is incarcerated on Earth. This story will explore deeper emotions and motivations Shepard and Vega face as they try to figure out who they are to each other.

Thank you to PestoMonkey for being an amazing Beta goddess, and all around classy lady.

BioWare owns all Mass Effect events and characters.

"She did what?" Anderson leaned back in his chair pinching the bridge of his nose. From the comm, Admiral Hackett's gravelly voice relayed the details of Commander Shepard's latest exploits. Anderson's head swam as he listened to Admiral Hackett's report. An entire system eradicated, the Alpha Relay destroyed and 305,000 dead batarians. "And the Reapers?" He asked, reaching into his desk for his emergency bottle of brandy.

"Thwarted again for now," replied the Admiral. "This is big, Anderson. We have to do what we can to head off the worst of the repercussions. Shepard is headed to the Citadel as we speak. She insisted on getting her crew to safety before turning herself over to the Alliance. I am en route to Earth to do what I can to prepare the committee for her arrival. She will be placed under arrest as soon as she touches Earth's soil."

There was a long pause before Hackett spoke again, his voice low. "Captain, I strongly suggest you resign your position as Councilor and return to Earth as soon as possible. We have to rally the troops, so to speak. Shepard will need all the help and support we can give her if she goes to trial."

"Shouldn't I stay on and try to smooth things over with the council?" Anderson asked as he poured himself a large glass of brandy.

"Udina will have to handle them," Hackett quickly answered. "We need you in Vancouver. It's clear the committee will avoid war at all costs, and I'm afraid of how Shepard will play into that."

Anderson nearly choked on his drink at Hackett's suggestion. "You don't think that the Alliance would really turn her over to the batarians?"

"I don't know David. The committee is more than just skeptical when it comes to the Reapers. Though evidence against the Commander is still shaky, claiming she thwarted another 'imminent Reaper threat' as her only defense will not be enough to acquit her. The batarians are calling for blood. I do not want her to be used as a political bargaining tool."

"Agreed," Anderson stood and began to pace the length of his small office. "Who else knows about this?"

"Word is traveling fast. We are going to have a full-out diplomatic situation on our hands in just a few hours. Do what you can to keep Shepard from harm when she arrives on the Citadel. For her own safety, I convinced her to stay on board the Normandy while her crew departs."

"I bet she was thrilled with that," Anderson scoffed.

"Hardly. She doesn't seem to realize how much danger she is in. If the batarians get their hands on her before she reaches Earth, I doubt they would waste any time ordering her execution. Shepard's protection and safety are of the utmost priority. We need her if we want to stand any chance against the Reapers."

Anderson moved to stand in front of the comm's vid screen, "Understood Admiral."

"Good." The digital image of Hackett gave him a curt nod. "I'll see you on Earth then. Good luck David."

"Thank you Sir. We are going to need it."

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Shepard leaned on the railing above the Normandy's galaxy map. The dim light from the projected nebula bathed her face in an eerie glow as her fingers mindlessly manipulated the holographic display.

"How long?" she asked without looking up.

"ETA 2 hours." Joker's concerned voice sounded from the comm. "Commander?"

"Yes Joker?"

"I'm going with you to Earth," he said determinedly.

"Joker." Shepard groaned as she clenched the railing and looked up towards the cockpit.

"Anyone who is on this ship when it touches earth will be arrested. EDI is capable of piloting the Normandy to Earth without you." Shepard pushed off the railing and squared her shoulders. "You will disembark once we arrive on the Citadel, along with everyone else," she ordered. In a lower voice she added. "I did this alone and I will take the hit... alone."

"Bullshit!" Joker swiveled around in his chair and glared at the Commander across the bridge. "You are not alone Shepard."

As quickly as his bones would allow, he hoisted himself out of the chair and began to limp towards Shepard, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"We followed you into hell and we will follow you to Earth," he shouted. "We will fight with you and defend you, so don't push us aside."

"I am not pushing anyone aside," Shepard shot back in exasperation as she stepped down from the map. "That system is gone because I did what I had to do to stop the Reapers. If the Alliance wants to string me up and judge me, so be it. But I will not allow the rest of you to be taken down with me."

"I'm not going to abandon the Normandy, Commander," Joker's voice began to shake. "I'm not going to let you sacrifice yourself for everyone. Not again."

"I'm not sacrificing myself," Shepard rubbed at the growing tension in her head. Dammit! She wanted her crew safe. This particular fight was hers alone.

In a pleading tone, she said, "Joker, this is the way it has to be. You coming with me to Earth isn't going to change the fact that I'll have to stand trial for the deaths of over 300,000 batarians."

"I'm not leaving, Commander, and there's not a goddamn thing you can do to stop me," Joker said obstinately. He held her eyes and stood as tall as he could.

"Says the man with brittle bone disease," Shepard said crossing her arms and sinking back on her hip. Joker just stared at her. His jaw was set in a determined scowl. Shepard released a defeated sigh.

"Fine," she said throwing her hands up as she turned on her heel and stalked to the elevator. Just as the doors opened to let her in, she turned back to him and held out her own threatening finger. "But don't come whining to me when they toss your brittle ass into the brig."

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Shepard sought the calm, blue solace of her quarters. She pulled off the top to her uniform as she trudged down the steps into her bedroom. It was her intention to catch a few minutes of sleep before the Normandywould dock at the Citadel, and she would have to say goodbye to her crew and friends. Her clothes from the night on Omega still lay scattered around the room. Three mornings ago she had tossed her pants and blouse haphazardly aside, hastily shedding them and dressing in a clean uniform. Professionalism had always been her forte, and she had not wanted Admiral Hackett to see her dressed in such an unprofessional way.

As she reached her bed her foot caught in the black fabric of her civilian trousers which lay on the floor. When she kicked them free from her foot a flash of blue pattern grabbed her attention. There, peeking out from the pants pocket, were James' neatly folded shorts, taunting her. Shepard suddenly remembered surreptitiously tucking them away after plucking them from Tali's helmet.

A smile spread across her lips as she bent to pick them up. Images of his tall, tan, muscular body flashed in her mind as she sank into the bed, clutching the shorts against her chest. She closed her eyes and lay back as the images and memories of their night became more clear in her mind.

The feel of his hot lips against hers filled her memory. She raised her hand to her mouth and gently touched her lips. Her memories of him were so exquisite and clear she could almost feel him. Slowly her hand slid from her lips, down her neck and chest, traveling lower past her navel. Her fingers slipped under the waist of her trousers and panties and began gently probing at the soft flesh between her thighs. Her other hand, still clinging to his blue camo dancer's shorts, teased and pinched the peaked tip of her breast. She began to pant as she slowly worked herself, her fingers gliding languidly over her sensitive, swollen nub. She imagined him hovered above her, his hazel eyes dark with smoldering desire as he thrust into her. She felt herself go slick and she dipped her digits lower, moaning as she teased at her wet folds.

"James," she whispered, increasing her pace. He was light years away and he still was driving her into ecstasy.

"Oh god," she moaned as she felt herself getting closer. She bent her knees and planted her feet on the bed. Her hips began to grind and thrust against her hand. She flicked and teased herself as the heat in her core swelled. With a choked gasp she came, crying out as her hips bucked upwards.

Her body went limp as the last wave of her climax washed over her. She lay panting and staring up through the window. The void glittered with the light of millions of stars, blinking and streaking past as the Normandy traveled.

Suddenly, her brow creased. She jerked her hand away from inside her pants and rolled over, burying her face into her pillow and screaming into the fluff of its downy shape.

"Fuck!" She roared as she flung her angry fists into the mattress. She pulled her knees under her and rose up, grabbing the pillow and then slamming it into the bed repeatedly as she growled and screamed. What the hell is wrong with you! She screamed inside her head. You just killed 300,000 people, and you're masturbating? What the fuck are you thinking? She flung the pillow across the room with a guttural screech. You're sick Anna! Commander Shepard does not fucking act like this! She clawed at the blankets until her fingers wrapped around the cotton of the camo shorts. She pulled them from the tangled sheets and gripped them between her hands. She tensed, ready to rip them apart, but her arms would not cooperate.

You are a fucking pervert. She said to herself as she slumped over, unable to dispose of the shameful garment. Blindly she reached over and opened the top drawer to her side table. She carefully folded the shorts and placed them as far back in the metal drawer as she could. She closed the drawer and fell over onto her side, clenching her eyes shut as her exhausted and conflicted mind continued to reprimand her. Masturbating? Throwing temper tantrums? You're thirty-two for Christ's sake, not a teenager.

She growled as she hoisted herself out of her rumpled bed. Peeling off her remaining clothing, she stormed across the room. Take a shower and get your head in the game woman! The automatic door to her bathroom whooshed open. You cannot waste your time with these fantasies Shepard. She stepped into the shower and punched the water controls as she mentally berated herself. Love sick fool.

She stood there scowling as the steaming hot water cascaded down her pale skin. With a frustrated sigh she slumped against the wall of the shower, her head falling back against the cold metal.

Today had not been the first time she had thought of him. She vividly remembered how his beautiful hazel eyes flashed across her memory while she fought through her sedation in the Project Base lab. It seemed like every time she closed her eyes she would see those hazel orbs gazing at her through the fog of memory. She ached for him, and she hated herself for it.

Did this distraction prevent her from finding a way to save the Bahak system? It was the only conclusion that she could accept. She clenched her eyes and banged her head against the wall. This had to stop. She had to get control. Shepard hit the shower controls and gritted her teeth as the sudden shock of icy water drove guilt, and James, out of her thoughts. She groaned and lowered her head, letting the cold water run through her hair, hiding her face. She knew there were going to be many more icy cold showers in her near future.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Anderson exited the Presidium elevator with a swift stride, rubbing his temple. He had spent the last three hours simultaneously debriefing the council on Shepard's situation as well as ushering in Udina as humanity's new councilor. Though Udina had maintained a cool, professional demeanor during his instatement, Anderson could not help but notice the glint of greedy excitement in the man's eye as he repeated his oath of service. It was just past 1200 hours. Shepard should be docked by now. Anderson thought to himself as he turned the corner and was nearly trampled by a group of C-Sec officers rushing towards the elevator.

"Back up needed in Docking Bay 24!" Shouted one of the officers into his omni tool.

"Councilor Anderson," Anderson turned to see Captain Bailey running up behind him.

"It's just Captain Anderson now, Bailey."

A flash of shock crossed Bailey's features.

Anderson prodded the C-Sec commander. "Do I really have to ask what is going on, or should I just assume this has something to do with Shepard?" Anderson fell into step with the man as they followed after the group of security officers.

"Got it in one," Bailey replied. Glancing sideways at Anderson, he said, "So it's just Captain now? This day just keeps getting more and more interesting."

"What's the situation?" Anderson asked as they boarded the elevator.

"The Normandy docked roughly 15 minutes ago." Bailey stood facing the elevator doors, hands behind his back. "We sent extra security, but word has it that a mob has formed and things are getting out of hand."

"What the hell was she thinking coming here?" Bailey grumbled loudly, turning to look at Anderson.

"She's dropping her crew before she turns herself over to the Alliance."

"And she chose the Citadel to do that?" Bailey balked. "She had to have known that turning up here was going to cause trouble. Are the reports true, Captain?"

"Shepard is not a terrorist if that is what you are asking. As far as coming here, I don't know what her logic is. I haven't spoken with her yet, but I'm sure she has her reasons."

"For all of our sakes, I hope you're right."

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

"Commander things are getting a little rough out there." Joker's voice nervously resonated through the Tech lab.

"What's happening?" Shepard asked as she put down one of Mordin's data pads she had been reviewing.

"Well there is a mob, and they- Oh shit! One of them just grabbed Chakwas! Jacob is trying to help- Commander you may want to get out there, this looks bad."

"Son of a bitch." Shepard sprang into action, sprinting through the lab to the armory where she grabbed a shotgun and some concussive rounds before rushing towards the airlock.

"Commander, are you sure this is wise?" EDI's voice cut through the CIC. "If you recall, Admiral Hackett requested that you stay on board the Normandy while we are docked on the Citadel."

"I am aware of what Hackett said EDI!" Shepard replied as she ran through the CIC. "I can't just sit here and let the crew get torn to pieces."

She entered the air lock, loaded the gun, and checked the heat sink as the decontamination beam passed her over and the doors whooshed open.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The majority of the crew had been able to disembark without incident. C-Sec had been alerted to the situation and had provided guard as the first wave of the Normandy's crew departed. It wasn't until the second, smaller group was attempting to clear the security checkpoint that things started to get out of hand. The mob, primarily consisting of angry batarians, struck in force, quickly overwhelming the twenty C-Sec officers assigned to bay 24. Despite security's best efforts, some of the mob had been able to break through and were currently involved in a standoff with Jacob who was doing his best to shield a disheveled Dr. Chakwas.

"Just let us pass," Jacob said through clenched teeth, his hands glowing with biotic energy.

"Not a chance, Cerberus scum!" one of the batarans shouted.

"Shepard should die!" screamed another.

"They all should! They helped her, they are just as guilty," another jeered. The mob erupted into more cries of fury and vengeance.

Anderson and Bailey approached the bay at a full run. Through the glass of the security station, Anderson could see the part of the mob that had pushed past the guard. Three C-Sec officers lay unconscious on the ground, their weapons confiscated and repurposed. Shepard stood near the doors to the Normandy, shotgun in hand shouting at the mob.

"Son of a bitch," muttered Bailey as they pushed their way through the crowd.

"What are those guns loaded with?" asked Anderson as he jostled through.

"Stun rounds. It won't kill, but it will knock someone out for a good while." Bailey answered.

"Let us through officer," Anderson grunted as they reached the barrier.

"I can't do that sir," replied the turian officer.

"Damn it Farvus, he is Alliance military, let him through." Bailey growled as he pushed the officer out of the way. Anderson and Bailey both sprinted towards the Normandy.

"If you want someone to blame, blame the Reapers!" Shepard shouted to the mob from the docking platform. "Let them pass, they've done nothing to hurt you!"

"My brother was on that colony! You sure as hell have done something to hurt me!" Shouted a batarian taking aim at Shepard with one of the confiscated C-Sec guns.

"Put the gun down, now!" Shouted Bailey as they approached the group. Anderson stopped a few steps back, surveying the scene.

"So you can just let her go? We demand justice! The batarians will have justice for this!" the armed batarian shouted, still pointing his gun at Shepard.

Anderson noticed movement from the shadows. Lurking in the shady corner of the landing, a thin batarian shifted nervously. While Bailey, Shepard, and the armed batarian continued to shout at each other, Anderson began to move. The thin batarian stepped back and pulled something from his waistband. Anderson ran at him, just as the gunman extended his arm, aiming his pistol straight at Shepard. Anderson lurched forward and punched the alien in the side of his head. The shot went off, zipping through the air, scorching the airlock door to the Normandya mere few inches from Shepard's head. Anderson quickly incapacitated the would-be assassin, twisting his arms behind his back and planting a heavy knee into his ribs. Everyone turned to see where the bullet had come from. Bailey used the moment of distraction to butt his rifle into the shouting batarian's gut, disarming him.

"Shepard! Get back on the Normandy!" Anderson shouted. " Bailey, get your men in here and take care of this. Now!"

Bailey tossed him a pair of manacles before activating his omnitool. "All available C-Sec officers report to Docking Bay 24. I repeat all available officers report to Bay 24. Executor, you may want to get down here as well."

"Understood," replied Pallin, his tone heavy with exasperation.

"Excuse me for suggesting you do your job," Bailey muttered under his breath as he disengaged the heat sink from the confiscated weapon.

The extra C-Sec officers arrived quickly and were finally able to quell the mob and break it up. As ordered, Shepard had returned to the Normandy. She waited for Anderson in the debriefing room. Unable to keep her restless body still, she paced the length of the room, crossing and uncrossing her arms in an attempt to decide what do with herself.

She looked up as the door beeped open and Anderson entered scowling.

"What the hell are you thinking Shepard?" He glared at her as he slammed his hands down on the conference table.

"I couldn't just sit here and let my crew be torn apart," she replied calmly.

"That gunman had a clear shot at your skull. Shepard, you could have been killed out there."

"Just a day in the life, Captain," she sighed, and smiled weakly. "No different than any other day."

"But it is different now, Shepard." Anderson said with some exasperation. "When you're out there fighting for the galaxy that's one thing, but I'll be damned if I'll let some half-rate assassin take you out. The batarian government wants you dead. I've read your reports, Shepard. If what you say is true, and I believe you, then we don't have long to prepare. The Alliance needs you alive, Shepard. The galaxy needs you."

"What do you want me to do Anderson?" Shepard turned to face him, pleading. "I'm a soldier, I fight and I risk my life. It's what I do."

"You do more than that Shepard. You're more than just a finger on a trigger. People believe in you. They'll follow you and fight for what you believe in. You can negotiate better than anyone I know and you follow a hard line of right and wrong. Shepard, you are the best humanity has to offer."

Anderson paused looking at this woman on whom so much depended. Squaring his shoulders, he continued answering her question. "What do I want you to do?" Concern thickened the tone of his voice. "I want you to stay safe, and for a start, get a good night's rest. You look like hell, child. When was the last time you got a full night's sleep?"

"You mean not including being knocked out for two days on an asteroid?"

"Yes excluding that."

Shepard scoffed, "Four nights ago." In his arms. Shepard clenched her eyes and shook her head, attempting to keep him from creeping into her thoughts.

Anderson looked at her skeptically "You need to get your head on straight Shepard. Keep sharp. You're going to be under a lot of political fire when you get to Earth."

Anderson straightened himself, adopting a confident, relaxed, yet commanding posture.

"Now, I'm going to accompany you to Earth, and, since I outrank you, the Normandywill be under my command for the duration of the trip."

Shepard opened her mouth to protest, but Anderson waved a hand in dismissal. "Unofficially of course. The Normandyis still yours, Shepard. I just want you to get some sleep and get yourself focused. I need to talk to Hackett, and we may need to make a stop before we head to Earth."

Shepard sighed in defeat, "Yes sir. I'll just go gather my things. You may have my cabin, I'll move… somewhere else."

"That's not necessary, Commander. I want you to be comfortable."

"No, please Anderson. It's the least I can do after causing you so much trouble."

"The port observation is still equipped with Miss Goto's bed, Commander," EDI's blue sphere popped up startling Anderson. "You would likely be the most comfortable there."

"Thank you, EDI," Shepard responded

"EDI?" Anderson asked raising a questioning eyebrow.

Shepard started to answer but was interrupted by Joker, who hastily cut her off.

"EDI is the Normandy's VI, Captain Anderson. She's completelyharmless." Joker's words were rushed and nervous.

"I see," Anderson replied, clearly unconvinced. "Thank you, Mr. Moreau. Shepard, I can handle things from here. Go get some sleep."

"Yes sir," Shepard saluted the Captain, and left.

She felt sick with the mix of emotions that coursed through her. Angry that no one seemed to trust her to take care of herself. Guilty she had caused Anderson and her crew so much trouble. And ashamed she had, yet again, not been able to keep herself focused. She was seriously beginning to question her own decision-making abilities. Maybe I do just need some sleep. She thought as she entered her quarters. She looked around the room. Gather my things? What things? Do I own anything here? She pulled an empty storage crate from under her desk.

She glanced up above her desk briefly, looking at her collection of model ships. No use for those in the brig.She looked at her desk, again nothing there worth taking.

She sighed and turned towards the bathroom. She grabbed her shampoo. Sweet smelling shampoo had always been the one indulgence she allowed herself. The large bottle of orange, vanilla, and spice scented stuff had been the first thing she had purchased on the Citadel after her awakening. She felt that having it with her during her incarceration might help her feel less trapped. She shivered at the idea.

The idea of being grounded worried her. She had never been able to stay in one location for long, and being forced to do so was making her anxious. She tossed the shampoo into the crate and crossed to her dresser. She gathered her undergarments and the few pieces of civilian clothing she owned. As she folded them into her crate she noticed the rumpled state of her bed. Images of James as she had imagined him earlier flashed across her memory. She growled and slammed the crate shut.

Stomping across the room to the bed, she yanked the sheets off, balled them up and forced them into the laundry chute. She quickly replaced the bedding with clean sheets and blankets, tucking the linens under with practiced military precision.

She stepped back and looked around the room. This is it, She thought, time to face the music. She turned and walked back to her crate, latched it, and hoisted it up under her arm. Punching the fish feeder on her fish tank, she strode towards the door. It beeped and opened, but she stopped and froze for a moment before turning around and hastily stalking back to her bedside table. Opening the top drawer and reaching back into its depths, she pulled out the camo shorts and tucked them into her pocket. She pushed the drawer closed and walked out of the room without looking back.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

"That close?" Hackett asked through the comm.

"Yes sir," Anderson answered. "She was unarmored and he almost had her."

"Well, good work, Anderson. If it weren't for you... well I don't even want to think about that possibility. She was lucky you were watching out for her."

"Thank you sir. Admiral, this situation has made it clear to me that she needs more protection around her. She needs a bodyguard."

"I agree one hundred percent Anderson. Do you have anyone in mind?"

"As a matter of fact I do. I started looking into this possibility as soon as I heard. A few weeks ago the name Lieutenant James Vega came across my desk. He was the sole survivor from his squad on Fehl Prime."

"Sounds familiar." The Admiral said thoughtfully.

"Indeed." Anderson affirmed. "Lt. Vega retrieved some impressive data on the collectors that could have been used to destroy them. He risked everything to get that data and succeeded. He has top ranks in hand to hand as well as advanced weaponry. He seems as brutal as he is loyal. A damn good soldier from the looks of it."

"Do you think he is trustworthy? The fact that Shepard rendered his intel. unnecessary could cause a rift in his conscience."

Anderson sighed. "I would be able to answer that better if I could find him. He went AWOL just over a month ago."

The Admiral scoffed. "This is the man you want guarding Shepard?"

"Admiral, I have a feeling that he is the perfect man for the job."

The Admiral was silent for a moment and then said quickly, "Okay David, I'll have to trust you. I will do what I can to dig up his location. I'll send whatever I can when I find it. Keep me posted."

"Yes sir, thank you sir."

"Hackett out."

Due to some turmoil I had with character development I have started this: funderlysfanfiction dot tumblr dot com This is a blog where I will post some explanations and motivations on character and story development. This allows me some catharsis as I work things out, but if anyone wants to read it, that would be cool too. Also its a place I can take questions if anyone has them.