That Blurred Line

Just so you know, I updated the first chapter, making a minor change. I omitted the part with the funky message, just because I completely forgot where I had planned to go with it...

~*~

It was dark, red carpet and black paint, low pitched mood lighting surrounding the booths and private corners where Asari, and surprisingly enough female human dancers entertained guests of every stature. The bar wasn’t very busy, though the thumping music made it hard to concentrate at all, Shepard took a seat at the far end and patiently waited for a bartender to take notice. It didn’t take long before a Turian marked with red face paint stepped into her line of sight, rag over his broad shoulder and apathy in his face. He didn’t know who she was, he didn’t care, and she liked it that way.

“Tequila?” She asked hopefully, knowing full well it was a human drink and one that most of the time never managed to make it past Earth’s nearest space colony, the Adonis. She had her fingers crossed.

“Hmph, you’re the second human to ask me for that shit tonight.” The bartender grumbled, but didn’t say no as he moved away from her to a central cooling cabinet in the middle of the long bar. He hissed as he grabbed the ice cold bottle, and without pouring a glass he simply set the bottle on the bar in front of Shepard. She couldn’t help but grin when she noticed the putrid little worm lying toxic and deadly at the bottom of the bottle.

“Good old Mezcal…” She muttered mostly to herself, but the bartender heard as he stood there waiting. “I’ll need a shot glass, if you have one.”

The Turian nodded, grabbing a small rocks glass which was the closest thing he had and setting it in front of her. She thanked him and watched him walk away to help someone else, a young Asari that could have easily been a dancer and not a customer. Shepard was overwhelmingly grateful the Turian had left to bottle with her, and she figured other than the other human he mentioned she was the only one that would really drink it, at least this week.

An hour passed, and then two, her comm link stayed quiet and she was eternally grateful for the lack of disturbance from her crew. She was ashamed to admit the mission was not critical in her mind right now, but that was why she was here, a good decompression session would help her put everything in prospective and get her shit together while they waited for orders.

The bottle now half empty and her mind now properly clouded and distracted, Shepard cracked her first smile since coming into Chora’s Den, the rat hole she’d cleaned out two years ago fighting to get to Fist. She sighed and the smile faded; Kaiden had been with her for that raid, Wrex too of course. Reliving the memory took only a second, but as soon as she had she felt her heart ache, and poured another hefty shot into her glass. Her eyes glazed over a little as the alcohol burned its way through her esophagus, but she did not grimace. She’d been a marine too damn long to not be able to stomach tequila, even after a two year coma, and she was proud to realize she still had the willpower.

“Something on your mind?”

Shepard looked up to see the same Turian bartender speaking to her, his glittering black eyes regarding her with a mild curiosity that hadn’t been there before. She pursed her lips, feeling her inhibitions dropping with the passing minute and swirled her glass thoughtfully before downing it entirely and asking him a question instead.

“Why do you ask?”

He shrugged, “I’ve been told a human’s Tequila was like a Turian’s Fletuv…which if you didn’t know can put even the most tolerant of us on our ass after two drinks…you’ve had at least seven. I was assuming there was a reason.”

“Yeah, well…I fucked up.” Shepard answered, the small amount of cheer she had been working on since the drunkenness had started to come on diminishing quickly.

“Every one fucks up. But that still doesn’t sound like the reason your giving yourself alcohol poisoning.”

Shepard smiled a crooked, bitter smile and chuckled under her breath. “You know, I guess I’m just here to forget about something, if only for a little while.”

“Fair enough. Name’s Kliminseskil, but you humans always slaughter the pronunciation, so just call me K.”

“Well met, K.”

Another hour passed, slowly compared to the first hour she was here, but her pain hadn’t disappeared. She knew if she drank anymore under this depression that was riding her shoulders that things were only going to get worse, but she couldn’t resist. She was almost to that little red worm, and still no contact from Joker. K had come by several times to chat briefly, nothing too serious, nothing too invasive, he’d even managed to get her to laugh outright at one point, though it was strained. Another hour and the bar was a little more crowded with the standard work day over, men pouring in from all races, filling up the bar stools and booths and soon there was nowhere left to sit. People kept coming though, and soon the bouncers had to move to the doors to keep the population in the club limited and under control. Shepard began to feel like she couldn’t breathe, so many bodies in such a small space.

But she was almost done with her bottle, and if nothing else was accomplished, she at least wanted that damn worm. She poured another shot, estimated she had about another three or four left before her goal would be met, and smiled sloppily in her pointless triumph.

“Hey, need that bottle, can’t believe another humans asking for it…3rd time in a day after two months of it just sitting in the freezer…”

Shepard furrowed her eyebrows at the bartender, grabbing the neck of the bottle and holding it close to her. K frowned, giving her a look that told her to dare give him more of an attitude.

“I want the worm.” She said defiantly, and though he seemed confused K nodded and reached out again.

This time, Shepard let him take it, and leaned against the bar to see which human had ordered the ruthless drink. The bartender walked around the curve of the bar, whoever had asked for the Mezcal was on the exact opposite side, and was invisible to her in her current position. As curious as she was, she did not want to lose her seat to the circling vultures, Turians and humans alike wandering around in constant search of open seating. She let it go, deciding it was not important and closing her eyes to stop the spinning of the room.

K returned a few minutes later, toting the tequila bottle that held maybe a shot and the worm that she coveted. She smiled, happy that he had saved it for her, most other Turians wouldn’t have given two fucks if a human got what they wanted or not.

“Thanks K…”
“No problem. That human seemed to be in just as dark of a mood as you are; maybe he needs company just as much as you do?”

Shepard startled slightly at the Turian’s boldness, but bit her lip instead of saying something she didn’t mean and would probably regret later. The bartender shrugged, and went back to business with the next customer while Shepard sat and pondered. It wouldn’t be hard to find the human with tequila; the stuff had a strong enough smell that if she didn’t have some in front of her she’d probably be able to smell the other human’s glass from here.

Finally, and with a deeply resigned huff she grabbed the bottle and stood up from her seat, took one step away from it and immediately it was reoccupied by someone that had been standing behind her, waiting. Damn vultures.

Honestly, she didn’t know why she actually went looking for her unknown ‘tequila buddy’, but when she caught a whiff of the stench that was her favorite drink she followed it, and found a man sitting with his back to her in a booth off to the side of everything. There were no others sitting with him, no dancers grinding on him, just him with raven colored hair and a white t-shirt that did nothing to hide finely tuned back and arm muscles. Shepard felt a tingle in her belly, a well toned body was a turn on most definitely, but her heart wasn’t ready for any kind of flippant relationship, one-night stand or otherwise. She still loved…

The man stretched, ran a hand through his hair and turned to the side to check the entrance of the club, for someone or something Shepard didn’t know. All she could possibly register was the familiarity with the way the man moved, the profile of his face that she could see from where she was just out of his peripheral vision. Was this coincidence; was this karma or fate, a cruel joke played on her by whatever greater power there was out there?

He was definitely the one with the tequila; there was an empty glass and a full glass in front of him, both with a lime wedge and salt on the rim. He sat leaning against the table on his elbows, dog tags tinkling almost unheard under the music as they hung from his neck. Maybe she was hallucinating now, maybe this was another nightmare and she was still back on the Normandy, whatever it was she had to know if it was really him or not. This was the last place she would expect to randomly run into him, but now that he was in her sights, intoxicated as she may be, she needed to see him.

This was a horrible idea, of course she knew this, but there was nothing stopping her, and before she could change her mind she found herself sitting down almost clumsily on the bench seat opposite her former lover.

Kaiden Alenko’s expression was priceless, to say the least. Shock, anger, anxiety, hope…all bundled into one, his fist tightening around his glass until she thought he would break it. Before he could open his mouth to comment, Shepard lifted the now nearly empty bottle of tequila and set it on the table. Realization dawned on him as he looked at the bottle, and then back to Shepard. The bartender had made a comment to him about how he wasn’t allowed to have the worm, some bad ass human female had been working on the bottle all night and had laid claim to it.

His eyes lifted to find hers staring at the bottle still, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she contemplated something. He knew that look, and though every bone in his body wanted to scream at her for being here, wanted to hold her as tightly as he could, wanted to get up and leave before she said anything…he sat in silence, and proceeded to slam his second drink.

“Wanna split it?” She asked suddenly, her voice wavering ever so slightly.

“What?”
“The worm, wanna split it?”

Kaiden furrowed his eyebrows, “Never tried the worm before.”

Shepard grunted at the answer and poured the last shot into one of Kaiden’s empty glasses, the worm slithering out with it. With a quick tilt of the head, she killed part of the liquid, bit half the worm off and left the rest to sit at the bottom of the glass before holding it out for him. Not wincing once.

He took a minute, arms crossed tightly over his chest to try and slow the pounding of his heart, he looked her over. She looked so beat, so tired and defeated, and he hated it. He missed Shepard; he missed her so much it literally hurt him to think about her, he’d had twice as many migraines in the last two years than he ever had in his life because of her. He wanted to sweep her away from this hell they lived in and make everything better, make everything right. Those two drinks had warmed his insides, and if any of the rumors were true he knew eating that worm was going to mess him up bad for the night, and probably lead to some less than stellar situations. The look in Shepard’s ice blue eyes made something give, and without
another moment of hesitation he took the offered glass and swallowed.

It had to have been one of the most vile things he’d ever put in his mouth. But he swallowed that damn thing, his face scrunching up like he’d just sucked on a lemon and Shepard giggled. She surprised herself with the sound, but quickly became stuck in the here and now when Kaiden finally met her gaze, years worth of hurt and misunderstanding glowing in the brown depths. This would be her only chance to right some of the wrongs they were facing, and she needed to do it tactfully. Being hammered drunk was not going to help her at all, but at least it made everything seem easier.

“Why are you here, Shepard?” he asked, crossing his arms back over his chest. She frowned, stomping back feverish thoughts of how he looked without that shirt, and considered her answer.

“Well, I died…spent two years in a coma while the Alliance forgot about me and Cerberus rebuilt me. The Council shunned me, the Collector’s are still out there and still kidnapping humans and there’s still nothing I can do about it…and I got your message…” The last part was almost too quiet to hear, but Kaiden caught it, and he felt his throat tighten.

“All in all,” Shepard continued, flagging down an incoming waitress. “It’s been a helluva couple of weeks…and tequila sounded like a good idea.”

An Asari with wild white face markings flowed to the table side and Shepard held up the empty bottle of Mezcal, waggling her eyebrows and hoping they would have more. Unfortunately for her the waitress informed her that it had been their only bottle and Shepard waved her away.

“Wait…you were in a coma?” Kaiden asked, tripping over his words a little as his vision blurred and his head swam.

“That’s what I said isn’t it?” She answered, her bitterness saturating her voice uncontrollably.

A fight was not something she’d been looking for, but if one came she was ready for it. Drunk or not, she still had a mean hook, and could easily dance around anyone, swaying or stumbling aside. Kaiden did not pick up the hostility, however, always so calm and collected even in the presence of his drunk, recently dead lover. Shepard’s heart ached thinking about it, remembering him, looking at him now and reliving a memory no matter where she looked.

A dawning realization hit Kaiden square in the face and his anxiety over the fact that Shepard let him think she was dead for two years evaporated instantly. She’d been in a coma, she had no idea what was happening...but Cerberus...Kaiden leaned against the table, unfolding his arms and looked at Shepard intently.

“You work for them, because you feel like you owe them, don’t you?”
“I work for them; because I fear they are the only ones that can help me stop the Reapers from coming.” She admitted quietly.

Kaiden fumed when he heard her answer, the same answer he'd gotten on Horizon. He refused to believe the Alliance would completely turn its back on her, their first human Spectre, their hero, but she seemed convinced and this only made him angrier. The tequila worm was taking its effect, he could feel it settling in his stomach and the sudden wave of reckless encouragement made him open his mouth in irritation.

“Their using you! How can you be so blind?”

In an instant, those blue eyes became fiery and strong, defiance screamed from every pore in her body as she registered his words and Kaiden noted that she looked much more like her old self.

“Don’t you think I KNOW that?” She demanded, her fingers curling into fists on the tabletop. “Don’t you think I’ve fought against them long enough to know exactly what their capable of? I’ve had nightmares about what they could’ve done to me while they rebuilt my body…”

Her sentence trailed as sadness returned to her posture. Her shoulders slouched deeper, a strand of hair falling into her eyes as she shook her head and looked away from him.

“I’ve had nightmares about what they would do to you, if I ever tried to leave…”

Silence stretched between them, both pained and wanting something to make things right, trying to find the words that would either clean up the end pieces or sew them back together. Lost as they were to each other the club around them boomed with false cheer and half naked dancers, the music dull and unoriginal, the people just blurs that Shepard couldn’t bring into focus. No one was as important to her right now then the man she sat with, and it hurt her just to look at him.

“Look, I didn’t know it was you when I came over here. I guess I was looking for someone to share my misery, to drink it all away and get back into the game. I thought, maybe just one night, I could forget about everything I’ve lost…when the bartender told me someone else was drinking my drink I thought maybe that person could relate, perhaps he or she had seen or done something just as devastating…for that’s the situation that usually calls for something like Mezcal.”

She paused, brought her eyes around to see Kaiden’s gaze locked to his hands, but she knew he was listening.

“When I read your message my world stopped. ‘Maybe’ isn’t something I can handle right now…”
“So what? You want me to give you a direct ‘yes or no’? Because at this moment...”
“Stop…” She knew what he was going to say, and didn’t blame him for his reaction.

“Kaiden…I need you to know that I may not be coming back, from the mission I’ve been assigned to.”

His breath caught when he heard this, all the ire forming on the tip of his tongue dying when she looked at him with those heartrending eyes, a hollow shell of what they could be, and realized suddenly the idea that he might lose her…again.

A Turian stumbled past their table, tripping on something he fell and had to catch himself on the back of Shepard’s bench, consequentially falling on top of the Spectre. She squeaked in surprise, but pushed the alien to his feet and watched him lumber off ignorantly.

“Can’t even apologize…” She mumbled, looking after her offender.

The club was suddenly louder and more obnoxious, as if the clumsy Turian had snapped her back to reality and her surroundings. She wrinkled her nose as the smell of vomit drifted to where she sat. This place was disgusting, and she momentarily wracked her brain to try and remember why she’d come here of all places.

Kaiden still sat in shocked silence, the words he needed not forming, the questions he wanted to ask racing too fast, there were too many and he knew he wouldn’t be able to ask all of them. He looked at her as if she would disappear, and when she met his eyes again he felt his heart break a little more.

“Would you…like to go somewhere else?” He asked, looking around at the filth that was Chora’s Den.

“And for what purpose?”

Kaiden didn’t answer right away, a small blush coloring his cheeks as he thought of the implications he’d given in his request. He’d been successful at keeping her off his mind in that way for a good solid month or two, until now. All the events of the night before Ilos, of the few weeks they’d had together before the Normandy had been destroyed, all gripped at his resolve, weakening it.

“To talk…?” He offered, his voice taking on a raspy edge that he knew Shepard would hear.

Had it been any other time, had she been any less wasted than she was right now, she would have replied in the negative. But, flying high on Mezcal, it was the only thing she wanted to do. To be alone with him again, even if it was just to talk. She wanted to hear his voice unhindered by the atmosphere, spoken only to her.

“Where to?” She asked, standing to stretch her legs.

Kaiden didn’t answer, merely stood with her as he forwarded credits to the bar via his omni-tool. The action reminded her to do the same, and with a quick detour to forward extra credits directly to K’s account for his service and support the two made their way into the quiet hallways of the Wards. She let him lead, following a step or two behind him, both walking uneasily as the alcohol in their system continued to build. She smirked, remembering Kaiden saying not but minutes before that he’d never tried the worm. Had these been different circumstances, she would’ve teased him about it, would’ve warned him that the worm was like digesting multiple shots slowly, that even though he wasn’t drinking anymore he was still getting drunk.

The revelation made her stop for a second, realizing what might happen if she continued to follow him, to wherever he was leading her. If it was somewhere public she was probably going to make an idiot of herself either trying to kiss him or trying to fight him. If it was somewhere private, she didn’t know if she’d be able to keep her clothes on or her tears in check. Either way, this was probably the worst decision she was going to make this lifetime.

Damn that worm.

~*~

Getting closer to the juicy parts! Yay!