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I woke up to Shepard’s hand slapped over my face.
“Mmrph??”
“Ssshh!” the hand slid away, “there’s someone in the apartment.” a hoarse whisper spoke
“That’s...” A loud shush interrupted. I dropped my voice, “that would be my mother, you idiot. She staying with us for a few days. Remember?”
I heard a clunk in the living room. “Sounds a bit larger than your mom. Go check it out.”
I glared at him in the dark, “why me?”
“I’m not exactly mobile these days, and you at least have your shorts on. Besides I outrank you”
“You do not. Fine,” I sighed, “but if whoever it is kills me, I’m coming back to haunt your ass.”
I swung my feet to the floor, and dropped down to open the gun safe under my nightstand. The print scanner beeped and I pulled out a small pistol and slapped in a thermal clip.
I slowly opened the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. I looked up the hall and saw the guest room door crack open. “Go back inside, and stay down.” I whispered.
Usually, I’m a crack shot, but since the surgery, I wasn’t so sure. And my night vision was apparently crap. Pretty sure the power was out too – again. The small light on the pistol wasn’t illuminating much. So it would appear that the only viable light source was me. I managed enough concentration for a decent flare.
More thunks in the vicinity of the living room. “Alright, whoever you are, I’m armed, well trained, and sleep deprived. Just leave and no one gets hurt.”
I swept the light across the room, and it landed on a very large, apparently very drunk, marine lieutenant sprawled across my living room couch. I switched the safety on the gun, and swore floridly.
“What the absolute, ever-loving, fuck, Vega. I could have shot you. It’s the middle of the night, and I was having a really good dream. And now I’m awake with your drunk ass in my living room...” a light breeze caught my attention, “Did you BREAK MY DOOR???”
“Lock’s crap,” the couch slurred.
“Ah, so you are conscious. Barely. What the hell are you doing down here at... Shepard! What time is it??” I yelled toward the bedroom
“0230” replied a groggy voice about 3 metres behind me, “no need to yell. Power out again? I’ll grab a lantern. Oh, and you should probably put the gun down.”
Crap, I’d forgotten about the pistol. Honestly, I was still a little tempted to shoot Vega. It had been a really, really good dream. I slid the clip out, placing it and the gun on the steamer trunk that served as our coffee table.
“I guess I’ll put on the coffee,” a quiet voice yawned from the kitchen.
There was still no answer to my question forthcoming from the semi-conscious marine on my couch. I considered pulling rank, but he didn’t look like he could sit up, let alone stand at attention. Besides, the only part of my uniform I had on were my regulation skivvies, and it felt weird issuing orders without at least a shirt on.
“We had a fight. Big one. Went to the bar. Lots of tequila. Good stuff. No keys. Your patio door’s open.” (at least I’m fairly sure that’s what it translated to. Clearly a LOT of tequila.)
As if he’d read my mind, Liam returned from the bedroom with a lantern, and tossed a pair of pants at me. Followed by a white t-shirt that I was almost certain I’d thrown in the laundry hamper last night. Gave it a sniff and recoiled. He shrugged, “only one I could find in the dark”
“I hate you both,” I grumbled, reluctantly pulling the shirt over my head, and tugging the fatigue bottoms on.
“Coffee’s ready,” mom chimed in. Dear lord, how could someone sound that cheerful at 2:30 in the morning? It’s just unnatural.
“You guys got actual coffee??” Vega said sniffing the air, “haven’t had the real deal in a year.”
Well there went my emergency stash, “Mom, you made him the real stuff. There’s synthetic in the canister.”
“He’s a guest”
“He broke into our house at ass o’clock in the morning, busted the lock on the patio doors, and tracked crap across the floor and ONTO THE COUCH! He is NOT a guest. And he is sure as hell NOT entitled to the good stuff.”
I figured we weren’t going to get a coherent answer from James, so I made my way to the kitchen and grabbed a flashlight from the utility drawer. Mom handed me a steaming mug of caffeinated goodness; black, hint of sugar – gods that hit the spot. I silently thanked whatever deities were listening for coffee makers with battery back-ups, and for a mother who made a kick-ass cuppa.
“I’ll be back in a few. Maybe I’ll get a better answer from Cortez.” I kissed my mother on the forehead and stepped barefoot into the building’s deserted hallway, hoping against all reason that I didn’t step on anything... unpleasant. The elevators were clearly out, which is why I hadn’t sent up Liam. He had the prosthetic now, but 4 flights of stairs in the dark was still asking a lot.
I scanned the floor with the flashlight. Nothing obvious on the hall carpet. I made my way down the hall to the stairwell doors and started the climb to the 5th floor where James Vega shared my parents’ old apartment with Steve Cortez. Just friends they both swore; I wasn’t entirely convinced, but who was I to judge?
The door to the 5th floor hallway required an extra bit of convincing to open (i.e. an overly zealous biotic push). My abilities have been keyed to my emotional state more than usual lately, and I was not in a good mood. Have I mentioned just how good that dream was?
Cursing to myself I stepped into the hallway and made my way... uugggh, that was... wet. I made my way down to the fourth door on the left, and knocked. The door opened surprisingly quickly given the late hour. I was greeted by a clearly tired and worried-looking Flight Lt. Cortez. From the disappointed look on his face, I was not who he was expecting.
“Major Alenko? What are you doing here?”
“Steve, for the hundredth time, call me Kaidan. I’m here because your idiot roommate got wasted and broke into my apartment. He’s downstairs having coffee poured into him by Shepard, and my well-meaning mother. Also, he owes me a new sliding door, and probably a couch. What the hell happened with you two?”
“It’s complicated” he sighed.
“Just give me the run-down.” at least the caffeine was starting to kick in.
“No sense standing in the doorway. Might as well come in. And no offense, man, but you smell like a sweat sock... uh, sir.” Did I look that angry?
“Blame Shepard. A drawer full of clean shirts and he pulls this one out of the hamper.”
“It’s what we get for living with other men, eh, Major?”
“Tell me about it. And please, tell me about it.”
“Right. Brass tacks version. Vega made dinner as per usual, even managed to get his hands on some actual fresh veg. And he cracked a bottle of red wine we found in one of the cupboards. Label was worn, looked like a ‘79 vintage. Good stuff, but it hit like a tonne of bricks. We’re sitting on the couch, ‘cause, no table to speak of, and out of nowhere he leans and kisses me. I may have overreacted a bit. I mean James is a great guy, but I never took the flirting seriously. And I sure as shit never expected him to act on it. Always thought he was straight. You don’t look surprised. Was I that oblivious?” I nodded
“To be fair, so was he.”
“Like I said, I overreacted a bit... okay, more than a bit. There hasn’t been anyone since I lost my husband, and...” I put up a hand.
“We’re going downstairs, and you can tell him yourself, provided he’s sobered up enough to see straight. No pun intended. The man was lumbering around like a drunken elephant before he passed out. I nearly shot him... still haven’t ruled that out. You two clearly need to talk. And I need to sleep. He interrupted a fantastic dream.”
“Sorry my friend is an idiot.”
We made our way back to the stairwell. The door was hanging off one hinge. Steve shot me a questioning look.
“What? It was stuck!”
“Uh-huh... whatever you say, man.”
I avoided the mystery wet spot this time and we walked back down the stairs in silence. I’d briefly considered a biotically assisted drop down the stairwell, but that was a bit more of a show-off move than necessary. Especially at 3 in the morning.
When we got back inside three of them were quietly sipping my coffee. (Do you have any idea how hard it is to find these days??). Mom in the recliner, and Shepard on the couch propping up James.
“These two need to talk. Alone.” Mom took the hint and retired back to the guest room. I cleared my throat loudly, “Shepard. Bed. Now!”
He stood up and snapped a mock salute at me. “Aye, aye, sir!” he grinned. Vega punched him in the arm.
“Oh shut up.” I snapped, bending down to grab the pistol off the trunk. Liam taking the opportunity to smack my rear end. I’m sure the look on my face would have given a rampaging horde of krogans pause.
“He always this grumpy in the mornin’?” Vega slurred
“Yup,” replied my way-too-chipper fiancé.
Bed. I needed bed. Now.
I left Cortez and Vega on opposite ends of the couch, awkwardly not saying anything. Shepard was hot on my heels as we entered the bedroom. I stowed the gun back in the safe, and flopped face first onto the queen-sized mattress.
“Your mom makes excellent coffee”
“Shut up, and get in bed. And be grateful the couch is otherwise occupied. Just to be clear: you’re not getting any tonight. I’ll tell you about everything in the morning. Much, much later in the morning. Goodnight. I hate you, and I love you, you jerk.”
***
Epilogue:
The following morning I found the power restored, and two battle-hardened soldiers, marine and air force pilot, curled up together on the couch. I guessed their conversation had gone well.
Shepard whispered in my ear, “you know this is a gross abuse of power, right Major?”
“Oh, I am well aware, Captain. And I’m going to enjoy every damned second of it”
I was kitted out in full dress blues, lid and all, standing about 2 metres in front of the couch. Shepard standing off to my left, had acquiesced to my request that he do the same.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready.”
“Ten-hut!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs. “On your feet, soldiers!”
The flurry of movement on the couch was more than I could have hoped for. The flailing limbs as they both struggled to extricate themselves from each other and stand at attention was priceless. Both men stood ramrod straight, in a full salute. It was beautiful. We returned the salute in unison.
“At ease, Flight Lieutenant Cortez. Lieutenant Vega?” Steve dropped his hands behind his back.
“Sir?”
“Care to explain why my patio door has a hole in it?” he asked, channelling his inner drill instructor. Shepard in full command-mode got under my skin in ways I’d have to remind him of later. It was getting really hard to keep a straight face.
“I... uhhh... err... don’t remember, sir.” a sheepish look on his face.
“You don’t remember, eh, marine. Well, let me refresh your memory.” Which he proceeded to do in great detail, Cortez beside him trying not to burst out in a fit of laughter – and failing.
“At ease, Lieutenant. You’re both dismissed. We’ll discuss reparations for the door later. And, on a more personal note: congratulations on finally figuring it out.”
When they were gone, we immediately returned to our room to change out of our blues into something more comfortable.
“You were magnificent, oh Captain, my Captain.” and I thanked him profusely... twice.