This is a work of fan fiction from all Mass Effect games owned by EA and Bioware. I do not claim any ownership of the characters or the Mass Effect universe. My thanks to Bioware and EA for creating an amazing story with characters we have all come to know and love.

Chapter 07: Whiskey Dreams and Culinary Truths

With the room cleaned, Kaidan's former blind date out of the room, and overall normalcy returned, she hooked her laced-up combat boots around the front legs of the stool to rest on the bottom bar. Liara had bailed.

Ellure breathed deeply. You can do this.

"Where's she off to in a hurry?" said Kaidan, keeping his upright position after having thankfully covered himself.

She should have bought him a t-shirt. "She's anxious to get back to her work."

"Her work? How did you fit all of that onto the Normandy?"

"Very carefully... So, have you decided on whether or not you plan on taking up the spectre position?"

"Haven't really decided yet."

"For what it's worth, I think you'd make a great spectre."

"Thanks… That means a lot coming from you." Kaidan smiled tensely. "Heh, uhm…" He cleared his throat. "Where do we go from here?"

"I was hoping we could be friends."

"Friends." He glowered at the sheets as though the word was lost on him. "Okay…" A loud silence permeated the room. While she tried to think of a witty subject matter, he punctured her with his gaze. "I'm just going to come right out and say it. I'm sorry I ever doubted it was you. I was, I'll admit, hoping for something more than friends."

She tousled her hair. "Look. Kaidan. What we had was good, but it's not going to work for me anymore."

"It's because of Horizon, isn't it?"

It was time to get straight to the facts. "Not exactly… I-I'm with Garrus now." Ellure dug the heels of her hands into the padded top of the stool as she clutched it between her thighs.

His eyes went dark, permanently cold. "Garrus. Vakarian… the turian?"

"Did we know more than one Garrus?" she countered in irritation.

Kaidan stared ahead, deadpan at the wall. "Wow," he exhaled, "you cheated."

"Come again?"

Using one hand for emphasis, he said, "You cheated on me - with Garrus?"

"We were done. Once I died you were off the hook. And on Horizon you made it very clear where you stood on that issue. Very clear."

"This is about Horizon. I knew it. Shepard…" Kaidan dangled his legs over the side of the bed. He reached out and took each of her hands into one of his. "Shepard. I've never stopped loving you."

No, no, no. This is not good. Not good! "I'm sorry, but - I don't feel the same way."

"I know we've had our disagreements, and I know I should have been there for you when you came back. But I was completely dazed. How often do people come back from the dead? I went to your funeral… I mourned you for so long." Head lowered, he brought her concentration away from their hands. "You can understand that, right?"

"Absolutely. But you need to understand this is nothing you did-"

"When?" He released her hands and clenched his on top of his lap. "When did you and Garrus become a thing?"

"During our mission to stop the Collectors."

"Ah, okay… the Collectors. Your reason for joining Cerberus."

She had had enough.

Ellure jumped down, took a fierce stance, and jabbed her finger to his shoulder harder than she'd intended. "You listen here, Major. I am done with Cerberus. I am done with people doubting me and calling me out for every minor infraction in my life. I didn't want to work for Cerberus. Trust me, I made the Illusive Man's life a nightmare. I should get disgruntled employee of the year!"

She paced to the window. She had to clear this for him, for them. She wanted this to work. Only, she didn't know how to make it work. She massaged at the mounting pressure behind her temples.

His voice was controlled but ascending with bitterness. "What do you want me to say? That everything's okay? That I'm going to sit back and just let it go?"

"I don't expect you to just let it go."

"Then what do you want from me?"

She spun to face him. "I want you to accept me. Be my friend. Be my comrade in arms. Help me to save our fucking planet! Is that so much to ask? Hell, you don't even have to be friends with me… Just - help."

"Help? You mean on the Normandy?"

"Well… anything would be good."

Kaidan ran his hands up either side of his scalp, converging at the peak of jet black hair in the middle. "For god's sake, Shepard. You tell me that you've cheated on me with Garrus, someone I thought of as a friend, and then expect me to move on with my life? Like everything is just A-Okay now?"

She closed the distance between them, hands tucked behind her elbows defensively. "I didn't intend to hurt you-"

"But you did."

"Yes. And for that I'm sorry. But I won't apologize for working with Cerberus. I won't apologize for moving on with my life. And I won't apologize for what I'm about to do."

"And what are you about to do?"

She fought against the quiver trying to escape with the words. "I am going to walk out this door. I am going to go back to my ship and my crew, and I am going to give you time to consider what you are willing to accept."

"What I'm willing to accept?" He scoffed with disdain.

"When you decide what you want to do, then contact me. Until then, I'll be out there fighting to save your life."

Kaidan sat arrested in abhorrent shock as she exited. All his days in this hospital he had been clinging to his memories of her, seeking a way fix this since the moment he'd heard all her emotions come to life on Mars. When he was certain that he could put all of her past traitorous ways aside, he'd resolved to pick up the pieces and salvage this before time ran out. He was ready to beg for forgiveness, explain his reasoning, and maybe kiss her back into his life. After all, it worked the first time, but he wasn't ready for this.

Garrus? She was signing herself off for him? What did that guy have that he didn't? None of it made sense. On the SSV neither seemed to have even a shred of attraction! When he had received the news that Shepard never made it into the escape pod, he had contacted Garrus out of a sense of formality and friendship. The turian never seemed phased. He didn't even respond! He merely vanished from existence. No, I'm sorry for your loss. No, thanks for letting me know. Nothing.

Kaidan refocused as Dr. Michel entered.

Okay. So he had tried to move on too. Yet it was never the same for him as it was with Shepard. Maybe it was possible she had only rebounded. She was coping in her own way with her death, rebirth, and life as a commander and spectre. It would only be natural to attach yourself to the first stable thing you came across from your past.

"Is the commander the one you were telling me about?" Michel said, pressing her frosty metal bell to the pulse point in the crook of his elbow.

"She was."

"Your heart rate is accelerated." Arching one brow in assumption, Michel removed the stethoscope from her ears and draped it around the back of her neck. Shining a light into his eyes, she said, "She seemed upset."

"We talked about things..." Kaidan let the words hang in the air as he still tried to swallow the idea.

"I won't pry." Michel plucked a datapad from her pocket. "Everything looks well. No concerns with your implant?"

"The headaches are waning."

She tucked the datapad against her chest. "I know this seems a strange question, but I wondered… You served on the Normandy?"

"I did. Here and there."

"Have you ever acquainted a Garrus?"

He took a more thorough look at the doctor. What is with this guy's appeal to women? "I knew him. At least, I thought I did."

"Oh. He saved me once, with the commander's help. I don't feel as though I ever received the chance to thank him properly. I tried to contact him, but it was lost in the extranets, you might say."

Kaidan gauged her reaction. "He never wrote back?"

"I'm not sure he ever got any of my letters." The doctor appeared flushed as she finished typing and tucked away the medical file. "I asked the commander, but she said she had lost contact with him."

"Huh… If I ever run into him again, I'll be sure to let you know."

"I would appreciate that." Michel smiled. "I hope things work out between you two."

"I screwed up."

A medical glove perched on his shoulder. "I would suggest being forthright. The commander seems the sort open to a direct approach."

"Being open about it isn't the issue. It's a pile of, excuse the language, fuck-ups, and I'm not sure if there's any way to regain my place. That spot seems to be filled at the moment."

Michel eased him upright and adjusted his pillow. "Life is strange." The doctor quietly laughed. "This week has been so eventful. I see the commander, see she is to know you, and then you are both once in love. It is a small galaxy we live in."

"A lot of crazy coincidences." Kaidan rubbed his aching jaw.

"Is there something you would like me to send a nurse for? I must get back to my other patients. We are busy with the refugees arriving."

"I could use a razor, but I'll be okay. Exhausted at the moment."

"You should rest." Michel walked toward the exit and loitered. "Major Alenko, if given the opportunity, we should go for dinner again sometime."

He paused. What could it hurt? "Dinner sounds great."

"It's like a bandage. Quick and painful, the sting goes away and the wound is healed."

"You didn't see his face, Liara. That wound is not going anywhere soon." Ellure maintained her elbows on the white tablecloth, shielding her eyes from curious onlookers. "I don't know why this is killing me. I didn't expect it to go easily, but I did anticipate a little flexibility. He didn't even try to consider what it may be like to be the person who died and woke up in Cerberus' lab with no understanding of what the hell happened! Two years of my life were just gone."

The chair squeaked on the Apollo Café floor as Liara scooted closer and took her hand. "I'm sorry, Shepard. That was my doing."

"Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for what you did. Extremely. I wouldn't be here at all if-" She leaned on Liara's shoulder heavily. "I guess I shouldn't complain. I could be dead… I just seem to always hope for too much."

Liara's head rested on top of hers as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders snuggly. "Maybe I should talk to him?"

She exhaled in resignation. "No, that's not going to be necessary. I said what needed to be said. He's going to have to come to terms with it."

"Then he needs time."

"Yeah, I know he's been through a lot too."

Liara leaned away and lifted her glass, examining the beverage shimmering in the faux sun. "This world is a mess, isn't it?"

"In more ways than one."

Ellure straightened. Scouting the area, she spotted the asari matriarch from Illium working her afternoon shift at the Café, wiping down the bar and feigning lack of interest in Liara. Due to her and Joker's Apollo addiction, it hadn't taken long for her find out the reason for the woman's curiosity. "So…"

"I know who she is."

"You going to talk to her?"

"I don't really have the time for-"

"Talk to her. If not for you or her, do it for me." Standing and smoothing out her shirt, she said, "I'm going to grab Joker and Steve some chicken marsala and head back." She snapped her fingers as she started to walk away and turned back. "Oh! And, Liara?"

The asari cupped her chin in her palm. "Yes?"

"Thanks for listening. Even though you abandoned me back there."

Liara smiled. "You're welcome. And you two needed to talk."

"Maybe you should consider that last point for yourself too." She winked and left.

Ogling his shiny new co-pilot, Joker grinned. "So what kind of humanistic traits does this robot body have?"

EDI's fingers hovered over the keypad. A glowing red visor gradually gave him consideration. "I do not understand the course of this question's significance."

"Never mind…" As he slouched back, an Apollo bag was lowered in front of his face to set on his lap.

"Stop harassing EDI." Shepard plastered her hand on his hat to gain access to his ear. "For someone who was so against my friendship with a geth, you're really pushing the limit, don't you think?"

He elected to stop, drop, and roll away from the factless insinuation and peeked in the bag. "You forgot a fork."

Shepard shoved off the back of the pilot chair and groaned. "Great. This day is turning to crap."

"Because of a fork?" He arched around the glossy leather to find her already tromping down the CIC. "I hate when she does that."

EDI returned her gaze to the console and attuned the oxygen filtration levels. "The Commander has slept four hours in totality since she has boarded the Normandy."

"You mean to tell me she hasn't slept at all? It's been…" He held up his fingers, then dropped them in defeat. "A week? Maybe two?

"Rounded off, it is two-hundred and eight hours without recharging."

"How is that humanly possible?" He flipped open the container with hungry anticipation. "What the shit? Where are the garlic noodles? It looks like someone mowed the Presidium lawn and dumped it in here."

"That is broccoli, Jeff."

"Thank you, EDI, for clearing that up."

A fork appeared beside him. "Set a course for Grissom Academy." Shepard glanced down at the container of lawn clippings. "And I gave you the wrong one." She reached over, closed the lid, and started away again. "I'll be back."

He held the fork over his pounding heart. "That was a close one. I was trying to break my personal record."

"That is unwise in your condition."

"… my condition?"

"Your body needs a steady supply of nutrients to maintain a proper balance."

He jerked up his sleeve and flexed. "Does it look like I'm having any dietary issues?"

EDI glanced from the corner of her eye but refrained from turning. "Your argument is invalid."

"Invalid? How is it invalid? Look at this beast!" He flexed again.

"It is a consequence from your extensive collection of extranet bookmarks... That is a joke."

"Hardy har har."

Forward, back, to the side. Forward, back, to the side. Garrus wielded his arm through the exercise without much resistance. "What's the verdict?"

Chakwas milled at the site of injury. "It appears to be in good shape. Does it feel bruised when I press here? I can't visibly see it, so on a scale of one to ten, with ten being wickedly unbearable, where would you place it?"

"Three."

The doctor smiled, returned to her chair, and used her heels to propel backward to the desk. Whirling around and typing into her console, she said, "If you can refrain from firing weaponry, you won't have need of a sling."

Garrus crept back into his shirt. "I'll be sure to remember."

"You had better, Vakarian. The last thing you need to do is extend the healing processes."

Exiting the med bay, he encountered Shepard quietly sitting at the four seater table in the mess-hall and dining with one of the new Alliance crew. He cemented into the chair beside her and kicked up conversation. "How did it go?"

She immediately stabbed something green. "It could have gone better."

The man across the table said, "Do you think he plans on returning to the Normandy?"

"Hard to say. He's not too thrilled with me at the moment." Shepard finished chewing and said, "Where are my manners? You two haven't been introduced yet. Garrus, this is Steven Cortez, our sexy shuttle bay fixer-upper."

Cortez laughed moderately. "She's exaggerating."

Garrus reached across the table to complete the hand shake extended to him. "She does that a lot."

Strutting in and coming to a stop at the end of the table, holding his chin high, Vega stood with feet spread and arms across his chest. "Lola? Is this true?"

Shepard froze, mouth open, fork in mid-air. "Huh?

"You're giving Esteban the title of being the sexy one?" Chest puffed, he stuck out his arms. "Are you not entertained? I give you free shows every morning when you stop in for the rounds."

Cortez sighed. "Here we go again."

She shook her head. "He's got a sexy look. You? You're cute."

"Cute?" Arms lowered, he continued into the kitchen. "That did it. Now you've gone and made me blush."

Garrus called to Vega, "Where is the nickname Lola coming from? Scars is pretty… obvious, but that one is leaving me a little stumped here."

Digging through the refrigerator, he replied, "A friend of mine's older sister back on Earth was named Lola. She reminds me of her. Hot. Tough." He peered under his bicep to kiss the air toward Shepard.

She grated an exhale in response as Vega cradled a collection of items, shut the door with his foot, and began lining his assemblage on the counter. Opening a drawer beside the sink, he pulled out a piece of fabric and tied it around his waist.

Garrus angled his head for a better look. "What is this?"

Elbow on the back of the chair, Shepard twisted the upper half of her body toward the display. "You cook?"

With knife in hand, his eyes darted over them. "Why? Does it impress you? I hear women like a man that knows how to cook."

Shepard returned to her dinner. "Depends on what's cooking."

"You know what? That reminds me of a song."

Shepard hung her head. "This can't be happening. I'm not prepared to handle more than one singer."

"Hey… Good lookin'. Wha-at ya' got cookin'?" he sang, snapping his fingers to the 's faced flushed, and Vega stopped short. "Stripping in the shuttle bay doesn't bother you, but this does? Lola does blush? Oh man… This is awesome on so many levels!" He continued.

Cortez revealed slight amusement to Shepard as he rose from the table. "Thanks for lunch. I'm going to get back down to the shuttle bay.

She saluted with her fork. "Run while you can."

Ignoring Vega's chopping and banter, he said, "Cortez seems reserved. Compared to the rest of the crew, that is." He pointed in the direction of the show playing out in the kitchen.

"He's struggling with a loss still. His husband."

"How long ago?"

"During a Collector attack, Garrus," she said, picking at her meal.

He arched back into a stretch and ran one glove down his face. "Spirits…"

As Vega did a spin and slide maneuver to the fridge, continuing his repartee in another language that Garrus' translator could only pick up in fragments, Victus said, "Humans are a rather capricious bunch."

The mood in the room stuffed. Vega coughed and resumed with his food preparations stiffly. Shepard, always the accommodator, kicked her foot under the table and slid out a chair. "Have a seat, Primarch."

Victus shook his head in rejection. "I appreciate the offer," he said, pushing the chair back in, "but I was merely coming to see if you had heard anything of importance while on the Citadel."

Shepard appeared to be caught in some sort of thoughtless black hole, so he came to her rescue with a diversion. "I've reserved a place in the docking bay for refugees. Medical supplies and dextro-rations have already been sent out to the reserves on Menae."

Victus nodded. "Excellent." With a resigned sigh, he sat down. "Every day I receive reports of losses in the hundreds of thousands." His mandibles clicked with a momentary anxiety. After a subtle shift in tone, he said, "I suppose we're all going through it."

Shepard smiled sweetly. "That we are."

Hands interlaced, Victus tapped one finger on the back of another. "You have a beautiful ship, Commander. Amazing piece of craftsmanship."

"I'm afraid it's Alliance property, but for now I call it home."

Garrus gushed with reflection. "I suppose you could call it that. We've spent a lot of time here. Good and bad." He smirked at her formality and set out to remove it. "Though, it wouldn't have been half as fun without you here." She nudged his ankle with hers under the table.

Victus assumed a lengthy look at Ell. "You carry a lot of reputations, Commander."

She scoffed and carried her container to the compactor collection. "No kidding." Clearing to the sink, she bumped Vega out of the way with the side of her hip.

Vega scowled and waved his knife haphazardly. "Say, excuse me."

After drying her hands, she turned around and said, "Nope," with a wink and jarred him for a second time.

"Good."

Her face paled. "Excuse me?"

"No-no. You're saying it wrong. It should be like a request or a futuristic apology."

Her eyes narrowed. "What did you mean by, 'good'?"

Popping a bite of food into his mouth, he leaned one thick hand on the countertop behind him. "I said, good, because I'm not about to complain that you're rubbing your body all over me."

Not missing a beat, she fired back, "Bring it on, Mr. Vega."

"I could do this all day, Lola. And all night long…" He winked.

"Damn it!"

Victus' brow plate shifted with palpable curiosity at the antics. Trying to quell whatever judgments the primarch was building, he said, "Yes, this goes on quite often."

"What does the crew think?"

"They all seem to love her for it."

"I've never claimed to understand such practices... But I would never be against it. She has shown nothing but success in her military career." Victus' Omni-tool blipped as he stood. "I should return to the communications. Keep me posted of anything you may hear, Vakarian."

Garrus nodded with deference and took his own leave.

Somewhere during his thirty second chat with Victus, the two humans had become locked in dispute. Shepard was increasingly indignant while Vega appeared to be on the verge of, pleading?

"How do you know you don't like it if you haven't tried it?" Vega said.

"I did try it! And I just didn't care for it. Not my thing."

"Well, maybe it was the chef."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not into eating anything with tentacles." She comically shivered. "Again, sorry, but no thanks."

"But… it's great when I make it! I'll make it for you, and then you will have to give it a second chance."

"I don't think so. You couldn't pay me to eat that stuff.

Vega shrugged and began shoveling his food remnants back into the fridge. "I'll find a way to change your mind."

"Keep telling yourself that."

Garrus lost speed as he passed the center island. With unspoken beckoning, Shepard knocked him with a glance. He could read her like a strategic plan, and he was more than willing to explore the map.

However, briefly examining the havoc that had been unleashed upon the weapon systems in his absence couldn't hurt.

Would he choose her over the love of his Thanix cannon? Could he pull himself away from the entrancing glow of the main battery? Probably not. But in case he did, she should be ready.

Ellure freed her hairbrush from the confines of its shopping bag and headed for the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, she had scrubbed away the aroma of Peruvian whiskey from every pore. Her teeth were polished, her hair untangled, and her nerves on the edge. Where was he?

Electing to give him fifteen minutes of leeway, she straightened the sheets and shut off the overhead lights. The bottle of sleep suppressants were then stuffed into a desk drawer. Terminal off. Alarm clock off.

She scanned the room in a final check. What else?

Mildly satisfied with his findings, he punched in for her cabin and assembled the evidence. Piece one, why did he always end up deliberating in the elevator? Piece two, she'd gone to visit Alenko and returned quiet. Silence was usually a bad sign, that much he understood. Piece three, she smelled of weak levo-whiskey. Something went down. Shepard never drank whiskey. And he knew who did.

Crossing the hallway junction, he resolved to confirm why she didn't need that human in her life.

The doors opened and he secured his target. She was coiled dead center of the bed, and he was not permitting her to fall asleep with pictures of Alenko fresh in her mind.

"I haven't slept in weeks." He traversed the sapphire glow and descended into darkness. "And when I did, it wasn't a restful sleep. It was the sleep of war-gunfire, reaper cries, the cries of Palaven's mothers." He set his visor on the glass coffee table as it reflected the meager light from the empty fish tank. "And somewhere in the midst of that, I missed you… Spirits, did I ever miss you."

Feeling through the darkness, he yanked the sheet off the end of the bed and cast it to the floor. "I'm tired, and not because of the things previously mentioned. I'm tired of worrying about you. I'm tired of thinking about you. And I'm definitely tired of wanting you and not having you."

Finding her feet at the end of the bed, he crawled over the top of her. He could envision that slanted smile. He might lack the eloquence of some men, and may not have had the best pick-up lines, smooth dance moves, or a squishy exterior, but he sure as hell knew how to please her. "Something tells me you missed me too."

Supported by his forearms and delaying the contact between their bodies, he blew puffs of air across her collarbone and felt the heat return off her skin. The sweet fragrance of her was branded into his subconscious. The taste of her was like licking the forbidden. Like a levo-fruit on his plate at a Citadel restaurant, it was there, ready for the taking, and he could do everything but consume it. And he was going to do everything within the realm of possibilities.

Her blunted nails scraped against his shoulders and down his arms as she exhaled his name. He pressed his mouth to hers, and she slid her hands to his chest, removing his clothes with know-how.

Easing back, he pitched the shirt and unfastened the fly of his pants to ready. Sliding his hands up her thighs, the feel of her brought him to the pleasant realization that she was already naked. "You planned ahead?"

"I like to be prepared."

"What if it wasn't me?"

"Then this would have ended up being a little bit awkward."

Palms sinking into the mattress, he said, "How do I know you weren't waiting for someone else?"

She lyrically laughed. "Who?"

"A lot of people on this ship seem to have a crush on you."

"... you hit your head again didn't you?"

"Not yet."

"I... I don't even... What?"

Winding his hand to her hips, under her waist, and up her spine, he lifted between the blades, bringing her to him. "I don't plan to go so easy on you this time."

Pushing forehead to nose, she seeped of conviction. "Stop talking already."

One motion and he reclaimed her as his own.

Shepard inhaled sharply and lifted her hips to his. Sitting back on his knees, he brought her upright, watching the unbridled tide washing over her.

Allowing her body to adjust its fit around his, he set out to conquer that one question. She wanted to know what he was out to prove, and it seemed too obvious in his eyes. He didn't give a damn what anyone else thought about their species barriers or rankings. He wasn't out to prove anything to anyone but her. All the same, he wasn't going to tell her that. Not then. He wouldn't have had the proper means to explain it.

But right now, feeling her this close? Yeah, now was a suitable time to show her.

She hugged as he pushed deeper, slow and even, biding his time, bringing her right to the edge. He was experienced at being patient, and it was driving her wild.

The tips of her fingers dug into the skin at the back of his neck as she tried to coax him into jumping with her. Pressure was building, but he kept her at a distance, forcing her into submission. She wasn't leading the assault this time.

Following a whimper of frustration, she draped her arms over his shoulders and bumped her forehead to his collar. "What are you waiting for?"

He smiled as her legs relaxed around him. "For that." With his fingers sliding to the back of her knees, he flipped her onto her back.

He pushed one knee to her shoulder and fell into the slick accommodations. Her eyes were clouded with fever as he zeroed in.

With his weight balanced on the elbow of his good shoulder, his other hand was free to slip between them. The pad of his thumb painted a trail straight down from her navel.

Shepard cursed him as she came.