tersa
in
masseffect
Fic: "For Auld Lang Syne" for Sinvraal
Happy holidays for sinvraal, who requested, "Fluffy Kaidan/Shepard stuff is always welcome. Holiday themed is a bonus."
This turned out...not entirely fluffy, but hopefully it'll be okay. :) (It's hard to write for the mod! ;))
Rating: M (implied nooky)
Words: ~1200
Pairing: f!Shepard/Kaidan
Notes: Sinvraal's Shepard, Kye, was the inspiration for this FemShep, but she can disavow any relationship if I'm too far off the mark. :)
For Auld Lang Syne
Looking this good took effort. Standing in the lift as it rose through the shaft, Kaidan wanted to tug at the collar of his dress shirt or check his sleeves for lint for the twentieth time, but he forced himself to ignore the impulse. Relax, he reminded himself for the hundredth time. The party goers would want to see that, but more importantly, maybe it would help her.
Alone, Shepard’s expression was unguarded, the truest demonstration of trust she could give him. She didn’t want to be here anymore than he did, but it was expected of her. She had to. It was the first New Year’s Eve bash on the Citadel since the war, and people-the entire galaxy-wanted to see Commander Shepard celebrating it in the vids. The Citadel might still be mostly scrap that made the attack by Sovereign seem like a love tap, long distance communication take days instead of nanoseconds, and entire planets still struggling to survive, but they needed their symbols. Their hope. The outfit she wore reminded him of another, a different party, a top that hugged her curves, the same flowing pants reminiscent of a skirt, but in blue, this time, and sleeved. It hid the scars from the injuries that had nearly killed her, and the pleasant smile she put on, the one that didn’t reach her eyes, masked the lingering mental and emotional ones he knew to be there. Gently, he put his hand to the small of her back, and the facade nearly slipped as she jerked her head sideways to look at him. “You can do this,” he murmured for her alone, as the lift dinged and the doors slid open.
Lights blinded them, the cameras all turned on them when the operators realized who it was that exited. Questions and answers, inane and false, Shepard said the empty words the reporters wanted to hear-she’d gotten facile with the sound bite since she’d been discharged from the hospital, the necessity of which angered him-then let the corners of her mouth rise a little more as she apologetically explained that others would want to see her and made her escape deftly. He gallantly offered her his arm-making a show of it, he knew his part in the play as well-the flourish hiding the fact that the support helped her to hide the limp. “I wasn’t lying,” she said in undertone as she scanned the crowds while they pressed their way through, nodding greetings to those who called out to her or raised a glass or otherwise acknowledged her passing.
He gave the hand on his arm a squeeze. “I know. Let’s discharge those orders and get it over with.”
It became a smear of names and faces, some he knew, some he didn’t. Representatives of all the races. Surviving business owners who rose to power for the goods they could provide a rebuilding galaxy-politics persisted as long as there were three people in a room. Admiral Hackett was a welcome few minutes respite, but all too soon, he had his own demands to respond to. Through it all, Shepard smiled and smiled, shared a few words, and then moved on, and no one could see how none of it touched her.
He wondered, too, if he was the only one to see through the glitzy patina laid over the room. While streamers hung from the pillars and ceilings, white clothes covered the buffet tables, and food the platters, the canapés were composed of simple ingredients, the beverage selection limited, and nothing matched.
It was still well before observed midnight when Shepard’s fingers tightened on his arm and he glanced over. The pinched look between her eyes was all he needed to see, and when the latest elbow rubber-a salarian whose sister’s mate’s brother’s cousin had worked at the lab on Sur-kesh and known Dr. Solus-had been shaken off, he started guiding her to the washrooms and leaned in to whisper, “Let’s get out of here.”
“I’m supposed to be here for the ball drop,” she reminded him, but already the tension was easing from her face.
“I’ll have you back in time. But you need to have a little fun tonight.”
For the first time all day, the smile she gave was genuine. “Let’s go.”
It wasn’t difficult for two Spectres to pull it off, especially ones with the knowledge of the Citadel outside the usual byways and thoroughfares. By the time they reached the deserted Council chambers, they were hot, sore, but laughing like a couple of school kids playing hooky. The room was dark until they reached the last platform, where moonlight from Luna streamed through the repaired windows and it was there that he captured her in his arms to kiss her, a hungry kiss that presaged more, and she-willingly, perhaps as rebelliously-returned it until their finery was shed like so many false feathers.
#####
Kaidan could have stayed here indefinitely entwined with her, even if the slick material of the floor tugged at his skin when he moved or the scandal that would undoubtedly balloon if they were caught there the next morning, but Shepard didn’t linger, untangling herself and getting to her feet. She made no move to dress, though, and the harsh moonlight limned her dark skin, throwing the scars into sharp relief. Her arms rose, wrapping around to hug herself as she looked out through the windows, then down, off to the side of the bridge-like protrusion of the speaking platform. He couldn’t see her expression well in the deep shadows of her profile, but he could guess her mood from the way she held herself. He propped himself up on an elbow. “Hey. What is it?”
“This,” she said, loosening one hand to sweep across the bridge. “Everything. I think it’s time to retire.”
“Already?” he asked lightly with a smile. “But it’s not even midnight yet.”
That got a flicker of a smile from her and her shoulders relaxed. “From being a Spectre. From the Alliance. From the public eye. The Citadel is back up and running. Hooray. Everyone can see me re-christening it tonight, and then…done. Let someone else do it for a change.” She pivoted on her heel-no matter what she was saying, she’d always be military, he thought. “We can go somewhere, you and me. Somewhere private. Maybe we can go to Tuchanka and help out Wrex, or Palaven with Garrus and Tali. Or Tahiti. I’ve never been to Tahiti.”
Pushing himself up, he moved to stand in front of her. “Are you serious?” It wasn’t said in disbelief, but testing the truth of the desire.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
He inhaled deeply, then let it out in slow measure, thoughts churning. “Okay then. Do you want to announce it tonight?” he asked with a small, mischievous smile. “Give the vids a bombshell for your send off?”
A corner of her mouth quirked up. “Wouldn’t they love that. No,” she shook her head along with the word. “Let’s do it quietly. Go through our paces tonight, and just disappear tomorrow morning. I think Hackett should be able to help us with that. I think he owes me that much.”
“A new year, a new beginning,” he mused, rubbing a finger across his chin. “I like it.”
“Good.” She rose to her tiptoes to run her fingers into his hair to pull him down into a warm kiss. “Because I couldn’t do it without you.”
This turned out...not entirely fluffy, but hopefully it'll be okay. :) (It's hard to write for the mod! ;))
Rating: M (implied nooky)
Words: ~1200
Pairing: f!Shepard/Kaidan
Notes: Sinvraal's Shepard, Kye, was the inspiration for this FemShep, but she can disavow any relationship if I'm too far off the mark. :)
For Auld Lang Syne
Looking this good took effort. Standing in the lift as it rose through the shaft, Kaidan wanted to tug at the collar of his dress shirt or check his sleeves for lint for the twentieth time, but he forced himself to ignore the impulse. Relax, he reminded himself for the hundredth time. The party goers would want to see that, but more importantly, maybe it would help her.
Alone, Shepard’s expression was unguarded, the truest demonstration of trust she could give him. She didn’t want to be here anymore than he did, but it was expected of her. She had to. It was the first New Year’s Eve bash on the Citadel since the war, and people-the entire galaxy-wanted to see Commander Shepard celebrating it in the vids. The Citadel might still be mostly scrap that made the attack by Sovereign seem like a love tap, long distance communication take days instead of nanoseconds, and entire planets still struggling to survive, but they needed their symbols. Their hope. The outfit she wore reminded him of another, a different party, a top that hugged her curves, the same flowing pants reminiscent of a skirt, but in blue, this time, and sleeved. It hid the scars from the injuries that had nearly killed her, and the pleasant smile she put on, the one that didn’t reach her eyes, masked the lingering mental and emotional ones he knew to be there. Gently, he put his hand to the small of her back, and the facade nearly slipped as she jerked her head sideways to look at him. “You can do this,” he murmured for her alone, as the lift dinged and the doors slid open.
Lights blinded them, the cameras all turned on them when the operators realized who it was that exited. Questions and answers, inane and false, Shepard said the empty words the reporters wanted to hear-she’d gotten facile with the sound bite since she’d been discharged from the hospital, the necessity of which angered him-then let the corners of her mouth rise a little more as she apologetically explained that others would want to see her and made her escape deftly. He gallantly offered her his arm-making a show of it, he knew his part in the play as well-the flourish hiding the fact that the support helped her to hide the limp. “I wasn’t lying,” she said in undertone as she scanned the crowds while they pressed their way through, nodding greetings to those who called out to her or raised a glass or otherwise acknowledged her passing.
He gave the hand on his arm a squeeze. “I know. Let’s discharge those orders and get it over with.”
It became a smear of names and faces, some he knew, some he didn’t. Representatives of all the races. Surviving business owners who rose to power for the goods they could provide a rebuilding galaxy-politics persisted as long as there were three people in a room. Admiral Hackett was a welcome few minutes respite, but all too soon, he had his own demands to respond to. Through it all, Shepard smiled and smiled, shared a few words, and then moved on, and no one could see how none of it touched her.
He wondered, too, if he was the only one to see through the glitzy patina laid over the room. While streamers hung from the pillars and ceilings, white clothes covered the buffet tables, and food the platters, the canapés were composed of simple ingredients, the beverage selection limited, and nothing matched.
It was still well before observed midnight when Shepard’s fingers tightened on his arm and he glanced over. The pinched look between her eyes was all he needed to see, and when the latest elbow rubber-a salarian whose sister’s mate’s brother’s cousin had worked at the lab on Sur-kesh and known Dr. Solus-had been shaken off, he started guiding her to the washrooms and leaned in to whisper, “Let’s get out of here.”
“I’m supposed to be here for the ball drop,” she reminded him, but already the tension was easing from her face.
“I’ll have you back in time. But you need to have a little fun tonight.”
For the first time all day, the smile she gave was genuine. “Let’s go.”
It wasn’t difficult for two Spectres to pull it off, especially ones with the knowledge of the Citadel outside the usual byways and thoroughfares. By the time they reached the deserted Council chambers, they were hot, sore, but laughing like a couple of school kids playing hooky. The room was dark until they reached the last platform, where moonlight from Luna streamed through the repaired windows and it was there that he captured her in his arms to kiss her, a hungry kiss that presaged more, and she-willingly, perhaps as rebelliously-returned it until their finery was shed like so many false feathers.
#####
Kaidan could have stayed here indefinitely entwined with her, even if the slick material of the floor tugged at his skin when he moved or the scandal that would undoubtedly balloon if they were caught there the next morning, but Shepard didn’t linger, untangling herself and getting to her feet. She made no move to dress, though, and the harsh moonlight limned her dark skin, throwing the scars into sharp relief. Her arms rose, wrapping around to hug herself as she looked out through the windows, then down, off to the side of the bridge-like protrusion of the speaking platform. He couldn’t see her expression well in the deep shadows of her profile, but he could guess her mood from the way she held herself. He propped himself up on an elbow. “Hey. What is it?”
“This,” she said, loosening one hand to sweep across the bridge. “Everything. I think it’s time to retire.”
“Already?” he asked lightly with a smile. “But it’s not even midnight yet.”
That got a flicker of a smile from her and her shoulders relaxed. “From being a Spectre. From the Alliance. From the public eye. The Citadel is back up and running. Hooray. Everyone can see me re-christening it tonight, and then…done. Let someone else do it for a change.” She pivoted on her heel-no matter what she was saying, she’d always be military, he thought. “We can go somewhere, you and me. Somewhere private. Maybe we can go to Tuchanka and help out Wrex, or Palaven with Garrus and Tali. Or Tahiti. I’ve never been to Tahiti.”
Pushing himself up, he moved to stand in front of her. “Are you serious?” It wasn’t said in disbelief, but testing the truth of the desire.
“Yes. Absolutely.”
He inhaled deeply, then let it out in slow measure, thoughts churning. “Okay then. Do you want to announce it tonight?” he asked with a small, mischievous smile. “Give the vids a bombshell for your send off?”
A corner of her mouth quirked up. “Wouldn’t they love that. No,” she shook her head along with the word. “Let’s do it quietly. Go through our paces tonight, and just disappear tomorrow morning. I think Hackett should be able to help us with that. I think he owes me that much.”
“A new year, a new beginning,” he mused, rubbing a finger across his chin. “I like it.”
“Good.” She rose to her tiptoes to run her fingers into his hair to pull him down into a warm kiss. “Because I couldn’t do it without you.”