Blackwork

It's the beginning of the end, Shepard thought as she stood beneath the hot stream of her shower, letting the water rinse the foamy suds of her shampoo down the drain. She closed her eyes and tilted her head up into the stream, letting the water beat at the skin on her face for several seconds. She opened her mouth and drank it in then took a mouthful, swishing it around and spitting it out again.

She reached for her shaving cream and razor. Might as well not have stubble when you go into battle.

Maybe I'll even paint my toenails for the occasion, she thought, glancing at her feet as she bent over to begin shaving her legs. The thought made her snort out a little laugh at the absurdity of the idea. But was it really any more absurd than shaving her legs? Or... other parts? Who was she kidding. She knew exactly why she was doing this, and it was more than just out of habit. If she thought James had a fetish for painted toenails she might very well have taken advantage of that weakness, too. Even if the world were about to end.

She forced her mind back to more pressing concerns than James' potential fetishes.

They were about to reach the Alliance fleets at the edge of the Sol system and from there what she could only hope would be the beginning of the final showdown. She'd made what preparations she could with the resources she'd been granted, but she still went over and over them in her mind, checking the details to see if there was anything she'd missed; anything more that could be done to help ensure their victory.

The Keepers had been busy, she could see in her mind's eye. She wished she had reached out to them sooner than she had, but she hadn't anticipated Cerberus getting ahold of the prothean VI's data alerting them that the Citadel was the Catalyst.

Besides, she hadn't understood until she had the data herself what she needed to do.

The best she could hope for now was to minimize the casualties. The Keepers were integral in ensuring that, thwarting the progress of the Reaper forces in their struggle to subjugate or indoctrinate the population of the Citadel. The Keepers were so efficient, walling off areas of the Wards to protect the citizens; creating new passageways for the people to travel protected from the threats. Now that the arms were closed, there seemed to be only one entry point for anyone, including the Reapers. She needed to find it.

She had been surprised but relieved at how easily the Keepers had accepted her instructions. The second she had connected with them, they had instantly altered their activities to begin performing the tasks she'd requested. She was sure it was the Thorian's influence commanding them and got the sense these odd little creatures had been the Thorian's thralls for an interminable amount of time.

There were more of them than she could have imagined living on the Citadel. She'd explored corners of the Citadel that she hadn't even known existed through their eyes. Unfortunately, in spite of their numbers, they weren't feasible as an offensive force. Their sole purpose seemed to be maintaining the Citadel, but that required them having knowledge of its innermost workings, which was more than the average Citadel custodian of any other race might have.

She could see only the vaguest images of the citizens still attempting to go about their lives on the Citadel. The people were terrified, naturally. Some had been taken before she'd connected with the Keepers to urge them to respond to the threat. Other citizens were apparently mobilizing defensive teams to protect those who were unable to protect themselves. She imagined Bailey was over there somewhere, doing his best to keep the peace, and kicking Reaper ass to do it. Unfortunately evacuation wasn't an option until the arms had been opened again. Everyone was currently trapped there and nobody on the outside had had any luck making contact so far.

She would still need to find a way onto the Citadel. They had to open the arms for the Crucible to dock and she had yet to find a way to make the Keepers do that for her. The console was at the very tip of the Presidium tower and every command she'd given the Keepers to access it had been ignored, as though they had some odd mental block about going there. Fear of heights? That seemed silly. But she had gotten enough information from them about the nature of the Catalyst itself to give her a solid plan.

She just needed to get there.

"EDI," she spoke into the steamy air of the shower, knowing the AI could hear her no matter where she stood in the ship.

"Yes, Shepard?" EDI's disembodied voice replied.

"Update me on the progress of the new program we talked about."

"It is nearly complete. I made the alterations you requested from the information gleaned from the Keepers. The Normandy will still need to dock on the Citadel in order to implement it, however."

"And you're sure you'll be able to take control once we're there?"

"If the information you have given me is accurate, yes. The Catalyst's programming is extremely outdated and the Keepers have provided sufficient details to allow me to alter it to our purposes."

"Great. I'm still working on the detail of getting us in. Hopefully Admiral Hackett will have new information that can help us."

"Yes, Shepard."

She stowed her razor and shaving cream back in their usual compartment and began to rinse off.

She would need to explain her plan to Anderson and Hackett. She was dreading that confrontation in particular. She wasn't sure they would even believe her, but she hoped they would on principle. Nobody had believed her about the Reapers and look where that had gotten them. She had to hope those two, especially Anderson, would believe her when she told them the Catalyst was a Trojan Horse; part of the Reapers' plan to bring the advanced races to their knees if all else failed. It was their own little failsafe that they'd built into the Citadel to make some unsuspecting hero-type like herself have to choose between a series of unconscionable options in the guise of ending the war. But thanks to the Thorian she had discovered a back door. A way to use their own technology against them finally.

She was still contemplating the plan when she heard the door whoosh open behind her. A second later a pair of warm, muscular arms wrapped themselves around her. Soft lips found the skin beneath her ear and she sighed at the pleasant contact, completely losing track of her train of thought.

She almost protested, thinking there wasn't time; Admiral Hackett would be requesting to board at any moment and she needed everyone in the CIC when he did.

But she needed to take time for this. She hated herself for thinking it, but this might be their last chance. She had struggled all morning to suppress the growing panic in her that something terrible might happen and she would lose him forever.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the warm contact of his body behind her. She heard him squeeze soap into his palm and sank back against his sturdy bulk as his hands began languid soapy caresses over her body, beginning at her shoulders and working his way slowly down her torso, clearly with the intention of touching her more than assisting with her personal hygiene.

He trailed gentle kisses down her neck and shoulder as he slid his soapy palms in small circles over the tips of her breasts. His light, teasing touches provoked a soft moan from her. Her breath hitched when he slipped one large hand down her stomach to tease lightly between her thighs. She felt a low rumble in his chest when his fingertips dipped between her soft folds, finding her wet from more than just the shower.

He turned her around and she tilted her face up, meeting his gaze. She realized they had no need for words this morning, even though she knew they weren't sharing a connection the way they had the previous evening. She could see in his eyes the same feelings that were surging through her at that moment, and the look she saw was also tinged with a hint of desperation that mirrored her own feelings.

His lips found hers and she sighed against him again, reveling in the feel of his hard, naked body pressed against hers, his strong arms wrapped around her. He kissed her desperately beneath the water for the longest moment, drifting his hands down the smooth curve of her back and over the soft swell of her behind. He gripped her gently beneath her bottom and lifted her up, pressing her against the wall. His hands slipped down backs of her thighs and she wrapped her legs around him by reflex.

He pulled back from the kiss and looked into her eyes once more. Seeing her tacit consent, he positioned his hard sex at her entrance slipped his thick length slowly into her. Her eyes fluttered closed in pleasure and her chest began to heave with quickening breaths at the exquisite sensation of him filling her up and beginning to move deep inside her.

She let herself be carried away by the sensations. The feel of his slick, wet body sliding against hers with each slow, steady thrust; his warm, wet lips drifting over her skin, across her collarbone, up her neck, capturing her lips again and kissing her hungrily. Her core seemed to burn with intense need for him even as he buried himself inside her over and over. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once as he made love to her, and she needed that now, too; she needed to be surrounded by his touch, and she burned with delicious ecstasy with every pass of his fingertips across her skin.

She was so lost in the feel of him that her orgasm nearly snuck up on her. The surge of building pleasure between her thighs and through her body seemed to tear her apart suddenly, and the cry that came out of her sounded more like a sob of pain than of pleasure. Something inside her seemed to burst open as she climaxed and she was powerless to hold it together as the dam broke. She wasn't sure where all these emotions had come from but she was abruptly glad for the water streaming over her that would disguise her tears.

He let out a low groan as he buried himself into her with a final, solid thrust and she felt his flesh spasming with his release. His eyes met hers and she could see his eyebrows twitch with concern at what he saw. She supposed it was foolish for her to think she could hide her feelings from him anymore.

She was grateful that he refrained from speaking. He only lifted one hand to caress her cheek and bent his head, laying gentle kisses on each of her high cheekbones, darting his tongue out quickly to taste her tears. It was such a strange yet tender gesture she couldn't help but smile. She slipped one hand behind his neck to pull him back into a deep kiss before she released him from the grip of her legs and stood again beneath the water to finish washing.

She left him under the shower with a silent kiss and went to dry off and dress while he finished washing.

They finally broke the silence several minutes later after she had dressed and was ready to leave. He was standing in a towel in front of the sink as she leaned in the bathroom doorway watching him. She was struggling again not to burst into tears at the sheer domesticity of their little situation, knowing that it was shortly about to end, possibly for good.

What the fuck was going on with her? She wasn't a crier. Never had been. And what was with all the doom and gloom going through her head? She couldn't go into today thinking they were going to lose, it wouldn't do anybody any good. She swallowed hard and tried to paste on an optimistic expression. Her throat so tight from emotion she was finding it difficult to speak, she had to clear it once to get her voice working.

"I'm outa here. I'll see you in the CIC in a bit?"

He spat out a mouthful of foamy toothpaste, then looked up at her with a nod and said, "See you down there."

She stepped towards him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek and a playful smack on his toweled behind before walking out the door.

She'd hoped the last gesture would improve her mood but it only increased the feeling of almost nauseous desperation in her. She took a deep breath and did her best to bury it. No time for emotional meltdowns now, there was work to do. She had a war to win.

ooOoo

The Citadel was in meltdown. When the Reapers had taken control it had been subtle at first, but became increasingly clear when the arms of the Wards had closed without any security announcements. Something wasn't right.

Mason Black had sensed the change in atmosphere instinctively, before he'd even seen the subtle shift of light that the closure of the Wards had caused. He'd made a few calls to some contacts who admitted to noticing the same changes. They were on alert.

Shortly after those calls he received one that had surprised him, but in retrospect realized it shouldn't have.

C-Sec's Commander.

Bailey, if he recalled correctly. Not that he could have forgotten after their few brief but volatile run-ins.

"What do you want, Commander," he asked with subtle scorn. He'd never dealt well with authority figures and hadn't gotten out of the habit of poking the beast even at his age.

"I need your help, Black." Bailey's voice was direct and steady, and strangely free from condescension. Black was struck speechless for a second. The man was sincerely asking for help. Of course, he needed it, but it was still surprising that he was actually stooping so low as to come to him for assistance.

"You need my help? You must be pretty fucking desperate."

"Well, if you haven't noticed, we're cut off from the rest of the galaxy at the moment. I'll take what I can get. I know your record... you can get things done that need doing." He seemed to hesitate for a second, then said, "And Shepard said I could trust you."

Fucking Shepard, he thought, but couldn't help but smile at the memory of the knockout of a woman - and a fucking war hero several times over - topless in his parlor. He'd been pleasantly surprised at how utterly human and refreshingly feminine she'd seemed. It was such a contrast to the media's image of her, but he imagined there was no less truth to that version of her either. In her line of work he had to imagine that hardass image of her was just as real as the softer side he'd experienced in the few hours he'd had to become acquainted with her.

He wondered if she'd taken the reins on her little romance with Jimmy and turned it into something real. He hoped so - it seemed like the both of them needed each other more than they realized. Plus she had a fantastic pair of tits. He felt just a little warm every time he thought about them.

He sighed in resignation.

"Fucking Shepard," Black cursed out loud and heard an amused snort come from the other end of the line.

"Do you know where we are?" he asked in his gravelly voice. He'd felt the shift of energy when the mass effect fields around the Citadel had activated as though they were about to jump into FTL. Then the familiar vibration of the relay sending them someplace else. But he had no way of knowing where they'd ended up.

"Yeah. We're currently orbiting Earth. We're in the middle of the fucking tempest and we're infested by Reaper scum. I need you, and whoever else you can rally up to help defend this fucking station. There aren't enough C-Sec officers to handle it and nobody else can get in to help us."

Black was quiet for a second as he contemplated. Shit, he thought, when he realized there was no way he could not help defend this fucking place.

"Okay. Give me an hour to mobilize. I'll contact you on the C-Sec frequency when my teams are in place."

"You have teams?" Bailey asked, surprised.

Black snorted in amusement, "It pays to be prepared."

ooOoo

Now Black was entrenched with a team of fellow ex-mercs and soldiers guarding the entrance to the Bachjret ward. He'd made contact with former colleagues on the Tayseri and Shalta wards who were similarly prepared for an onslaught, while Bailey's teams were guarding the entrances to the Zakera and Kithoi wards. They'd encountered several Reaper forces as they made their way to the main Wards access point and had summarily dealt with them, but the trickle of the odd husk or marauder had dwindled down to nothing. The attack just didn't seem to come.

"Bailey, any action on your side?" Black asked into his headset.

"Nothing. Maybe the Keepers have them blocked off somehow - it seemed like they were walling off areas of Zakera Ward earlier where the Reapers were attacking civilians. It was almost like they were herding them to slaughter. Made it easy for us to deal with them."

"Huh," Black grunted. "I didn't think the Keepers were that smart."

"Me neither. If we're no longer under attack I have half a mind to just sit tight and hope we hear something from the Alliance fleet. No sense opening up the Wards in the middle of a blitz."

"And what's the other half of your mind telling you?" Black asked.

Bailey snorted. "That we need to be prepared for when that call comes. Someone needs to get to the Presidium tower. That's the only place where we can open the Wards. There's a console on the level above the Council chambers."

Black's gears were turning. If the Keepers had been walling off the Reaper forces from accessing the Wards there might be a mob of them trapped in the Presidium. That was the most logical access point, at any rate.

"How many men do you have with you now, Bailey?"

"Not enough. Too many of my officers were busy guarding the Embassies and none of them are reporting in. We've been spread pretty thin through the Wards lately."

"Aren't your offices by the Embassies? Why aren't you there?" Black asked, a hint of suspicion coloring his tone.

Bailey didn't answer for several seconds, then finally his voice came back over Black's headset. He sounded a little embarrassed, but mostly sad. "I had a close friend in Zakera... I was off duty when the Reapers took over."

"You had a close friend?" Black didn't hesitate to drill the other man.

Bailey's response was almost resigned. "Had, assuming she's either dead or... I don't even want to consider the alternative. I just wish I could have gotten to her sooner. It wasn't even anything serious... we'd just get together sometimes. But she didn't deserve that. Nobody deserves that."

Black just sat quietly listening. He knew all too well the feelings of impotence Bailey was experiencing. There was a reason he kept his intimate encounters with the opposite sex as impersonal as possible.

After a long pause, Black finally said, "I'll go, but you might need to talk me through it when I get there."

Bailey sighed audibly in apparent gratitude. "Thanks, Black."

Black smirked. "Don't thank me until I make it there."

He signalled to two of his men and they began to make their way to the Presidium.

ooOoo

Shepard was just walking out of the Med Bay when James stepped off the elevator on the crew deck, on a hunt for breakfast.

"Hey, Lola. I thought you'd be in the CIC already. How soon until the Admiral comes on board?"

She looked at him blankly for a second and he thought she seemed a little out of sorts. His brow furrowed and he took another step towards her.

"Babe, are you alright?" he asked in a low voice, raising one hand up to gently squeeze her shoulder.

"What? Oh yeah, I'm fine," she said, shaking her head. "Just a little case of nerves. I wanted Karin to check me out to make sure I wasn't coming down with something. It would stink to be sick in the middle of a fight."

"And you're alright?" he asked again.

"Yep!" she said a little too enthusiastically. "Clean bill of health. She's still skeptical about the Thorian, but she can't argue with the evidence." She punched him lightly in the shoulder where he'd been stabbed.

"You got time to have a bite with me? I can whip us up something real quick."

"No, I can't eat before a fight. You go ahead. Half an hour." Her voice seemed a little unsteady and distracted when she spoke.

"Half an hour for what?"

"Admiral Hackett boards in half an hour."

She kissed him quickly and he watched her step into the elevator.

Nerves? He shook his head in wonder as he stared at the elevator doors, then walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

She never got nervous before a battle. Maybe it was just being back in their home system. A little voice spoke in his mind, "You know what it is, pendejo. You know exactly what it is. It's the same thing that's been going through your own thick head all morning. This is what happens if you fall in love with a soldier when the galaxy is in the middle of a war."

He stood staring into the fridge for several moments until he finally realized he didn't have an appetite after all.

ooOoo

After Hackett finished his speech to the fleets from the Normandy's CIC, Shepard made her own speech to the Normandy's crew. What she shared with them caused a bit of an uproar. Most of the crew was confused by the details she'd shared, but others who were more involved in the details of the war were looking at her like she was flat out nuts.

Admiral Hackett pulled her aside after she was finished speaking. She'd blindsided him with this, she knew, but there hadn't been time to share the details in advance. There was no time left now.

"Don't you think you should have told me this before?" Hacket snapped at her when they were back in the war room.

"There wasn't time," she said. "I didn't know all the details until I had the information from the prothean VI on Thessia. And by then, Cerberus already had the same information. I had very little time to prepare, and no time for handholding certain parties who were unlikely to believe me anyway."

"Shepard, you should have come to me with this at least. I'm not as oblivious as those clowns on the Council."

"Would it have made a difference? We still need the Crucible here, we're still locked out of the Citadel. People are still fucking dying down on Earth while we stand her arguing about it."

"It might make a difference, yes," Hackett said. "For one thing we'd be trying harder to contact the Citadel. We'd written them off as a total loss, but if what you're saying is true, there could be survivors and we'll need to organize rescues as soon as the arms open up."

Shepard went quiet for a second, closing her eyes and reaching out to the Keepers she knew were busy working within the Wards.

When she opened her eyes, she said, "The Citadel is stable. Reaper forces are trapped in the Presidium. The Wards are safe. Trust me, its citizens are probably in the safest place in the war at the moment. The Reapers know how important the Citadel is, they won't risk it getting destroyed."

"I just hope you're right about all this," Hackett said.

"I know I'm right," Shepard replied, and hoped with a vengeance that she wasn't lying.

ooOoo

When the fleets were fully engaged, the Normandy broke away from the fight. Joker deftly navigated through the chaos of battle surrounding them to get them within shuttle range of London.

James could almost taste the battle rage that was beginning to bubble up in him when the shuttle landed to let them out. He was back on Earth finally. About to give the Reaper assholes attacking his home a little taste of how pissed he was that they were here.

He couldn't help but reach his mind out to Shepard, curious as to whether she was feeling the same thing he was. What he felt from her was the same, but magnified by a thousand. She was on fire already and they hadn't even fired a single shot yet. Holy shit, was she always like this in a fight? She always seemed so self contained, but he realized by the display of her biotics when she used them why she might not let loose more obvious emotional displays. Her biotics said everything her words didn't.

As he contemplated this, the door to the shuttle had opened and she was abruptly nothing more than a blur of blue light as she immediately charged at a small cluster of Reaper cannibals, instantly obliterating them in an explosion of biotic energy.

He'd never thought she could surprise him any more than she already had, but over the next few hours he realized he was dead wrong.

She seemed to dominate every single fight. Her biotics demolished any creature she set her sights on, Brutes included. The strangest thing was that as reckless as she seemed to be, she never jumped out from cover without her shields at full charge. When her shields were down, she'd sit patiently and wait for them to recharge, letting James and Garrus pound on the enemies for a change. She never took a single direct hit.

He tried to catch her attention several times to talk to her when they had a second to pause, but she seemed singularly intent on completing their objective. The few times he did catch her eye, she seemed to have an oddly thoughtful expression as she looked at him, which she quickly hid with a wink and a smile before hopping out of cover to shoot or charge some new adversary.

They had a few irritatingly tedious obstacles to face before they could reach the Conduit that would get them up onto the Citadel. Once those were out of the way, Anderson said they had a clean shot at the Conduit.

Which was a bit of an overstatement.

There was currently a Reaper Destroyer with its beam aimed at the path to the beacon they needed to get to. This was apparently the only way to get aboard the Citadel at the moment. The ground before them was littered with bodies of fallen soldiers and Reapers alike.

"You guys ready?" Shepard asked her three companions. They were all still a little shook up from the shuttle's crash landing, but were all in one piece at least.

"Let's do it, Lola," James said, and she gave him a huge grin that was so infectious he couldn't help but grin back, and noticed Garrus and Anderson following suit. Turian grins were a little unsettling, he realized at that moment.

She let out a battle yell and immediately charged forward, running as fast as she could, rolling periodically to dodge the beam of the Reaper that kept shooting at the path before them. James kept up as well as he could, but the second a Reaper soldier or husk popped out and began attacking, she was charging forward towards it and there was no way he could keep up with her biotics. He set his focus on the beacon and pumped his legs as hard as he could to reach it, aiming his gun and pulling the trigger at any enemy that showed its unfortunate face between. He agilely dodged the Destroyer's beam whenever it blasted through the middle of his path.

When he was finally close to the beacon he saw her caught in the column of white lite for a second before she disappeared. He heard the klaxon of the Reaper's fiery attack again and felt the searing blast at his back, far too close for comfort. He heard Anderson's feet pounding and the other man's voice just behind him yelling, "Don't stop!" just as he took a final stride and launched himself into the beacon.