#implied shakarian

[orionz-box]

how it feels to start ME2

[firesongbard]

War Paint

Some rare real-talk with Jack, just before The Tango Scene. In response to the prompt "How does Shepard relax?". I discovered the answer is NOT "get dressed up".

Read the first part on AO3.

S H E P A R D

“Alright, mission accomplished. You gonna let me get this over with now?”

“You don’t make it easy.” Jack stood back, looking at her handiwork. Shepard had been stuffed into a slim black leather dress. It was horrifyingly similar to what Kasumi had picked out for her. But she had flat out rejected the Asari floor-length disaster with waist cutouts.

The makeup made her look like she’d been in a fight. Artfully smeared black coal promised to make her eyes pop, but all Shepard saw was an under-fed raccoon that ate a tube of red paint.

“Hero of the galaxy, slain at last by the Asari behind the makeup counter.”

“Would Commander Shepard ever be caught dead wearing that much paint?”

“Ask Liara, she’d know what Dead Shepard looks like.”

“Cut the crap, and look at me.”

Shepard did as she was told, unprepared for Jack’s change in tone. Had she said something to piss her off? Touched a nerve?

“You put on a fresh face for everyone on your damn ship and when you don’t have a person to fake it for? You put on Daddy Hackett’s dress blues and pretend you’re a good little soldier.”

Okay. Definitely touched a nerve somewhere. “I didn’t mean to piss you off, Jack. I appreciate the—”

“Fuck, Shepard, I’m trying to help you. I know an invented persona when I see one.”

The black dress cut into her shoulder. It rode up on her left leg a little higher than her right. The strappy heels didn’t have enough arch support and the balls of her feet weren’t built to stand like a turian. And all of that discomfort was easier to focus on than Jack’s incredibly insistent gaze.

Fight or Flight, Shep. When the shit hits the fan, gotta pick one.

She always picked Fight.

“No, you know how to project your problems on other people instead of dealing with them. You haven’t stuck with anything long enough to understand how a person could want to fight for a cause.”

And she was a better shot than Archangel.

“Fuck you! You know what?” Jack reared back to throw a punch, her body covered in a wash of blue. Shepard had poked the bear, but she was actually looking forward to physical blows. It’d make for a good icebreaker when she was late for her date.

But the punch didn’t come.

“Twisted bitch, you did that on purpose.” Jack dropped her fist and grinned. “No, fuck you. I’m winning this fight. Mark it on my gravestone: On this day in the year 2186, Jack beat Shepard at her own fucking game.”

With nowhere to put the fight thrumming in her muscles, Shepard felt very tired.

“Damn, thought you were gonna give me a real shiner to go with my fake ones.” She resisted the urge to rub her face. She didn’t want to look like a streaky starved raccoon. “I’m sorry, Jack. That was uncalled for. I’m just nervous. I don’t do... normal.”

“That’s for fucking sure.” Jack pulled a chair up to sit in (backward, of course). “Look. You’re overthinking this. You’ve got your uniform, you’re wearing your war paint. Go in there and be somebody else for a few hours. Test it out. I don’t know what happened to make you forget who you were, and I’m not tellin’ you to go deep diving to find it. I’m not a fucking shrink.”

“Oh, really?” The sarcasm was not delicate.

“Fuck you!” Jack said it with a smile and not a snarl this time. “Go in there and be anyone but Shepard. Pick a new name. Hell, use your first name. No one fucking knows it.”

“I get it.” Shepard waved a hand in the air like it could disperse the conversation. “Just go be some plain Jane on a normal inter-species date pretending the world isn’t ending as we speak.”

“Or go be Lola and watch Garrus’ head explode.”

Shepard laughed. “Oh God, who told you?”

“Story like that gets around. Now, fuck off. I’m buyin’ drinks for the Bellarmines tonight. It’s their birthday.”

“Have fun playing Mom.”

Jack made a gesture colloquially described as avian, and Shepard laughed.

“Sorry, saving myself for tonight.”

“You and your weird Raptor kink.” Jack stood and put her chair back. “I’m out. We’ll catch up after the next fight. I’ll have the kids show off their scars, maybe pit Rodriguez against a Krogan. Her head’s hard enough for it.”

They said their goodbyes, and Shepard found herself alone with her thoughts again, in a strange dress with all of her armor stripped away.

She could be just... Elizabeth, couldn’t she? Just for one night.

But she was pretty sure she couldn’t.

[snotmood]

♡♡ Ursula Shepard inspired Polyvore set ♡♡ Click for better resolution, it's kinda blurry!