#theprodigal

Every episode of Nikki Alexander - The Prodigal 

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were alive?”

Ashley’s words repeat, over and over again from the moment they boarded the shuttle to finally leave the colony, to removing armour, piece by piece, and even still when Shepard finally returns to the captain’s quarters.

Spacious, but cold. Too spartan with hardly any personal touches. It isn’t a place that offers much solace, but it’s quiet, with only the faint hum of the Normandy’s engine core sounding from three decks away. 

Moments of deliberation halt Shepard in the middle of the room. There was so much to say and so little time to say it in. Before she knew it, Williams was leaving and the shuttle had come for them. Regrets weigh heavily upon broad, scarred shoulders. 

If only she’d had the chance to explain.

Hands run through her hair, a sigh falling from parted lips as she all but crumples into the chair at her desk, legs and arms apart, a slouch - the heavy feeling in her chest and the back of her throat wants to come out, but crying’s never been her strong suit.

The knock at the door, however, startles Shepard. It takes a moment to gather herself, to clear her throat, to sit up and be somewhat presentable. Rising, she leans against the door frame for a moment’s respite before finally answering.

YOUR ART IS SO CUTE ???? do u have an art blog i

kiss meme - 29. “Accidental” Kiss

   “I get what you’re trying to do, Miranda, but -” 

Shepard’s sigh is heavy; exhaustion runs deep, and since that day on Horizon, fighting the Collectors up close and personal has put extra pressure on the crew. Every shot has to count, and getting flanked proves dangerous. 

   “I don’t… I don’t need a psych eval from Chambers, and I don’t need one from you either.” 

Stress has been piling up with every passing mission - success or failure. The closer they get to passing through the Omega-4 relay, the more Shepard has felt inexplicably taut with anxieties and worries. It comes out as a stern response, hinted with anger. The Commander rises with the intention to leave Miranda’s office to return to her cabin for the night cycle, hoping to crack into her recently acquired requisition of single barrel bourbon.

However, Miranda is quick to reach out, a hand on the arm with only the intention to slow her down, take it back a step and recount. They are Commander and Executive Officer and a disagreement off-duty can often lead to problems in the field.

    “Shepard.” Not a question, but a statement.

Alice half-turns. They stand but an inch apart in height, and a few more in distance - but closer than what feels comfortable - and what feels right. 

    “Lawson,” A last-name basis punctuates the space between them. Her stare is held firm from one set of blue eyes to another. “I’ll be… fine.”

Impulse is not something in Shepard’s repertoire. Rifles and grenades and strategy are what she employs in the battlefield but impulse?

Hardly in character. 

And yet.

Miranda’s just a little too close with her hand still on Alice’s arm, and the sound of the ship just barely drowns out her pounding heart. Her stare quickly breaks, flicking downward to Miranda’s lips.

She’s saying something, but it doesn’t register. The fixation becomes much more alluring, and Shepard draws in, finally letting impulse take control in the form of a kiss - not hard, but not gentle, either with lips pressed together with some kind of wordless response beneath their mouths. A hum, maybe.

Only, reality seems to hit harder when Shepard realizes what she’s done, stepping back with a gasping breath and a hard heart beat. 

     “I… should go.”

True to her word, she turns on her heel, leaving Miranda’s office without another word, or another glance.