Fraternizing (a Mass Effect fanfiction)

Allers

Vega got in the elevator, ready to head out on his shore leave into the Citadel. Before the doors closed, someone else slipped on, and stood there smiling at him. The reporter, Diana Allers.

"So, Lieutenant Vega. I understand that you're on offer as a potential date."

"That's the word," he said, trying not to look her up and down. It was difficult, because Allers wore her sex appeal like a woman who made a living looking good. Which was what she was, after all. It was easy to forget what a sharp mind lived behind her heavy makeup and low-cut dresses. James found he got more out of her show, The Battlespace, if he watched it with his eyes closed.

"So how about it?" Allers asked, taking a step toward him across the elevator.

James was tempted, he had to admit that. But something about the choice felt wrong. It was one thing to go on blind dates picked out for him by other people, but to be approached by someone and then agree to go out with them? That wasn't right. "Pretty sure that's not how it works."

"It could."

Reluctantly, he had to admit he wasn't into it. "No. But thanks."

Allers smiled widely. "Actually, I'm your next blind date. It was set up by—"

James held up a hand. "Keep it secret. If I know who picked you, it messes with the bet."

She looked him over with what appeared to be respect. "I wouldn't have pegged you for a rule follower."

He shrugged. "Not always, for sure. But in this case—a lot of people on this ship are under stress all the time. If passing me around makes them happy, sure, I'll play along." He meant Shepard. He wondered if Allers knew that.

"And a nice guy, too." Allers bit her lower lip and smiled at him. "You nice all the time, Lieutenant Vega?"

Grinning, Vega saluted. "Yes, ma'am. Perfect gentleman."

"Well, that sounds terribly boring ... but I'm going to let you take me to dinner anyway."

"Gracias." The doors of the elevator slid open and he gestured for Allers to go first. "Where to?"

"There's this great sushi place." She stopped to look him up and down. "You eat sushi, Lieutenant?"

"I grew up by the ocean. If it swims, I eat it. Also, you can call me James, if you want."

"All right, then, James. I'm Diana."

"Oh, I know." He chuckled, following her into the Citadel.

The restaurant Allers took him to was a lot fancier than James had expected, and the suit at the door looked him up and down with a look he was very familiar with. He fidgeted a bit in his tight t-shirt, but at that he was wearing more than quite a few of the women in the long line to get in.

Allers ignored the man's looks, standing there calmly waiting to be seated.

At last a waiter came and led them to a table. He tried to take them to the back of the room, but Allers looked around, pointed at a more prominent table, and said, "We'll take that one."

"Uh ... Miss Allers, I ..." She stared at him, and he wilted. "Yes, of course."

Once they were seated, with menus in their hands, James met Allers' smile across the table. "You always get what you want?"

"What else is fame for?"

James frowned at his menu. Shepard was famous, too, but he had never seen her use it to get a better table.

"You think I'm vain and selfish, don't you?" Allers asked. She laughed at the sight of his face. "You're not very good at hiding what you're thinking, and I interview people for a living. It's my job to know what they're thinking that they don't want me to see." She sat back and looked around them. "All these people here? They expect me to use my celebrity in a certain way; some of them will watch The Battlespace because I'm famous when they wouldn't for any other reason. So they get the news, whether they want it or not. You may not believe it, but I came on board the Normandy to do my part for the war, to help Shepard get everything she needs in order to take the Reapers down once and for all."

"Yeah. I get that," James said at last, after studying her face for a few minutes.

"You didn't, though, when I came on board, did you? I can tell the crew thinks I'm there to do a hatchet job on Shepard."

"It's crossed their mind," he admitted.

Allers smiled. "Shepard is a lot of things, but media-savvy isn't one of them." Over her shoulder, James caught a glimpse of Shepard herself, cutting neatly through the crowd. She moved with such confidence, such completely professional military bearing, but there was a hint of something more in the faint roll of her hips ... just as there was an equal hint of something wild in the stray curls that escaped her severe bun.

Across the table, Allers was still speaking, but she stopped when she caught sight of his face. "She's right over my shoulder, isn't she?"

"Almost."

"James. Diana. Having a good time?" Shepard asked coolly.

James looked for any tiny speck of a smile on her face, but there was none. Did she dislike Allers? Was she unhappy he was on a date with her? Or was this about whether she was going to lose the bet?

Over his head, Shepard saw whoever she had come to meet and smiled, giving a little wave. With a quick nod, she left their table.

He couldn't help it. He craned his neck to see who she was meeting, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw it was Commander Bailey.

"And I've lost you entirely." Allers sighed. "Well, it was never going to be more than a bit of fun anyway. No offense meant."

"None taken." He didn't kid himself that he was good enough for a woman like Diana Allers. And if he wasn't good enough for her, he sure wasn't worthy of Shepard, he reminded himself fiercely.

"So," Allers said briskly. "I'll get dinner, and you'll take me dancing, and we'll call it even."

James smiled. "You got it."