Chapter Text
It had been an exhausting battle. When you head out on shore leave in the middle of a full-scale Reaper invasion, the last thing you expect is to end up fighting your own vicious double.
Shepard finally made it to Anderson’s apartment on Silversun Strip. The door slid shut behind her with a soft hiss, and the place greeted her with the quiet crackle of the electric fireplace and the distant hum of shuttles drifting through the dense Citadel traffic beyond the panoramic windows. Far below, advertising holograms flickered, their colors bleeding into the glass in blurred smears of light.
She remembered the bedroom was on the upper level, but she had no strength left to climb the stairs. Jane dragged her weary body to the couch in the living room and practically collapsed onto it. Somehow she managed to shed the pieces of her armor — the magnetic locks releasing the plates one by one with muted clicks. In the end she was left only in the tight black undersuit. She didn’t even unzip it all the way, letting the dark fabric of her top show beneath. Even that small movement sent a dull ache through her muscles.
The silence of the apartment was suddenly torn apart by the sharp chime of an incoming message. The sound echoed off the smooth surfaces of the rooms. Wincing, Shepard reached for the datapad.
A New Year mailing list.
She gave a skeptical huff and tapped the display, launching the video message.
“— We are pleased to congratulate all citizens of the Systems Alliance and our guests on the upcoming New Year!” the announcer declared cheerfully, a stylized Earth shimmering behind him in festive lights. “We remind you that this holiday is the main calendar event and symbolizes the beginning of the yearly cycle on Earth. Traditionally, it is celebrated from December thirty-first to January first by the Earth calendar. Already tonight! Celebrate this long-awaited holiday with your family and loved ones. Happy New Year!”
New Year…
It felt like an eternity had passed since the last time she’d celebrated it. Back then, she and the squad had gathered together before Akuze - before the world had gone completely to hell. God, how drunk she’d gotten that night.
Jane had been born on Earth, raised among the high-rises of Russia’s megacities, where this holiday was considered the most important event of the year. That part of her life now seemed unreal, as if cut from someone else’s biography. After enlisting in the military, she had almost never returned to those places. She hadn’t really wanted to either — orphanhood, filthy slums, the constant fight for survival rarely bred nostalgia.
But something had still remained.
Shepard set the apartment’s audio system to play old New Year tunes. Hearing them on the Citadel, a home to countless alien species, felt strange. Yet the familiar melodies slowly, almost forcibly, pulled her out of the present and into the distant past.
She was fourteen. She barely had any warm clothes on the coldest day of the year. The capital had been buried under snow back then — a rare luxury for the city’s lower levels. It had been freezing, but up on the higher platforms the snow lay in an even, shimmering blanket, nothing like the gray slush of the slums. Kids were building snowmen, laughing, pelting each other with snowballs. Skyscrapers glowed with strings of lights, reflected in glass and metal.
Storefronts decorated with holographic snowflakes reminded everyone about gifts for loved ones. Music and laughter drifted from open windows. People were hurrying to greet the chimes at the country’s main tree — enormous, almost unreal, as if it could shelter an entire city beneath its branches.
And in her favorite game on a small portable console — the only valuable thing she owned, aside from an old pistol — a holiday update had just come out. The heroes strutted around in ridiculous yet beautiful outfits, and the world filled with lights and snow.
Stupid.
But little Jane had been happy.
From the roof of a tall building she had looked down — at the people, at the glowing tree, at the bursts of light — counting the seconds until the holiday arrived, believing the next year would surely be better.
It seemed she must have dozed off, lost in her memories. Through her sleep Shepard heard the apartment doors slide open, letting in an uninvited guest. She tensed, instinctively preparing to wake fully — but then caught the familiar shuffling footsteps and relaxed.
The guest made his way unhurriedly to the couch.
“Joker,” Shepard greeted him without opening her eyes.
“I see you’re having fun in here,” he chuckled.
The couch beside her dipped slightly under his weight. The New Year songs kept playing, filling the apartment with an unfamiliar warmth, almost home-like in its sound.
“Hope you came with presents,” she stretched her legs out, making herself more comfortable.
“Oh no, Shepard, don’t even think about it. You’re not squeezing gifts out of me. I hate giving presents,” Jeff said, mirroring her movement and settling onto the couch as well.
She smiled.
“Such decisiveness,” Shepard protested with mock offense. “Then shoo — out of my sanctuary. Only those bearing New Year tribute are welcome here.”
“Not sure about tribute, but the guys and I were thinking…” Joker went on. “Maybe we could throw a little party?”
“A party?” Jane raised an eyebrow, opening her eyes and turning toward him.
His gaze involuntarily slipped to the unzipped undersuit — and he hurriedly looked away.
Shepard smirked, sparing the poor guy any further embarrassment as she zipped the undersuit back up.
“No pressure,” Joker raised his hands. “No one’s dragging you by force if you decide to sleep for a whole day after your near-death experience at the hands of your own clone.”
“I was not on the verge of near-death at the hands of my clone.”
“Yeah, sure,” he drawled mockingly. “And the Normandy totally didn’t get stolen either.”
Shepard was already about to argue back, but a familiar synthetic voice cut into the conversation.
“A party could be organized with a New Year thematic decor,” Glyph announced, hovering closer.
That… didn’t sound half bad.
When else would she have a chance to celebrate a holiday like this in the coming years? Unless in the afterlife…
“Fine,” Shepard said, pushing aside the datapad with the picture of knight-cats on the screen. “Doesn’t sound as terrible as your usual ideas.”
“Great,” Joker replied, getting up from the couch. “Because I already invited EDI, Cortez, and Traynor…”
Shepard shook her head in disbelief, crossing her arms over her chest. That sneaky bastard…
“What?” he asked innocently, slowly backing toward the door.
“I have also informed Doctor T’Soni about the possibility of festive activities,” Glyph finished him off.
“Okay. Stop right there.” Shepard rose to her feet. “I want to make the guest list for my own party myself.”
“Ha! This thing doesn’t exactly have an ‘un-invite’ function, Shepard,” Joker declared triumphantly, rummaging through his omni-tool.
He was clearly getting payback for that distraction stunt at the sushi bar.
“Oops,” he added casually. “Cortez invited James.”
Silence fell.
"Jeff..." Shepard drawled sweetly.
But the name she uttered carried a distinct threat.
He continued to retreat toward the exit.
"Okay, I'll go see what else I can do," he said hastily. "Before someone breaks my legs."
And he disappeared through the door with such speed that it was hard to believe any illness had slowed him down.
Absurd as it was, it turned out to be a fact: finding a sufficiently large fir tree on the biggest space station in the galaxy was an incredibly difficult task.
They still needed decorations and garlands, too — to make the atmosphere feel just right.
Jane remembered her old console and that childhood game with its holiday updates. She wondered what had become of it now.
EDI volunteered to help with the shopping trip. She gathered analytical data on all the suitable themed stores across the station, while stubbornly refusing to reveal where Joker was currently lurking… that notorious party enthusiast.
Shepard was just finishing sending out invitations to the others when the door opened to let Liara in — accompanied by an entire swarm of cargo drones hauling a suspiciously green tree.
“Liara!” Shepard exclaimed in surprise. “Where the hell did you manage to get a fir tree on the station?”
The Commander was genuinely stunned, but Liara only gave her a mysterious smile.
“I had to make use of all my Shadow Broker connections,” she winked, already indicating where the tree would look best in the living room.
The drones set the tree in place and began stringing it with lights. A whole pile of ornaments lay on the couch after their shopping raids. EDI was already confidently overseeing the process, coordinating the drones with the precision of a military operation.
“I noticed something odd,” Liara said, approaching Shepard with a glass of wine. “It’s unusually loud on the lower levels. I’m fairly sure I heard Grunt’s voice.”
“Would it surprise you if I said I have a bad feeling about this?” Shepard sighed.
Liara only smiled softly. Her long dress accentuated her figure and looked elegant. Shepard caught herself thinking she should probably change as well. A whirlwind of memories flashed through her mind — the way she had crashed through the glass roof of the sushi bar in a leather mini dress…
Wrex arrived next. The strange noises coming from downstairs grew noticeably louder — dull thuds, roaring, and someone’s overly enthusiastic laughter.
The krogan held out a rock to her. Shepard shifted her gaze from the stone to Wrex.
“It’s a rock from Tuchanka,” he explained in the tone of an adult talking to a slightly dim child. “You can paint it and put it somewhere. Worst case, you can use it to fend off burglars.”
“Thanks,” Shepard said simply, accepting the gift.
She looked at the tree already blinking with lights, at the guests, at the chaos that was only beginning to pick up momentum.
It was going to be a long evening.
Cortez and James showed up with a tree as well. For some reason, it was yellow. Shepard decided not to ask where they had even managed to get something like that, making a mental note of the strange pattern this evening was taking.
The guys immediately dove for the beer set out by the bar. James was enthusiastically talking about eggs, while Cortez nodded with grave importance, as if the conversation concerned something extremely serious.
A little later Ashley arrived — also in a dress. She brought a small glowing arrangement of winter-decorated miniature trees, which they carefully placed near the bar, adding a touch of coziness to what was already… present.
Ashley handed Shepard a small box with a bow.
“Figured you didn’t have time to prepare,” she said, answering Jane’s questioning look.
Opening the box, Shepard found blue fabric with a white fur trim inside.
“Whoa,” James whistled as he walked up. “Lola, does that make you our Snegurochka? Or whatever the proper name for that is.”
“Shut up, James,” Shepard replied bluntly.
In the background, Ashley doubled over with laughter.
Shepard swore to herself she would never, under any circumstances, put that dress on.
The crashing and malicious laughter finally reached the right floor. Unfortunately, that floor happened to house Shepard’s apartment.
The voice did indeed belong to Grunt. But what the hell was Javik doing with him?
The door burst open, and the two of them — those… aliens — dragged an enormous sakura tree into the apartment. It looked rough, to put it mildly. The poor thing hadn’t fit into the elevator and seemed doomed from the very moment of transportation.
“Isn’t that one of the trees from the entrance to the residential complex?” Garrus’s voice sounded nearby.
Shepard flinched — she had been so absorbed in the spectacle that she hadn’t noticed his arrival. The turian was standing beside her, holding a… cactus in his taloned hands.
Liara stopped on the other side, offering a bottle of something genuinely strong.
Shepard’s suspicions finally took shape. All that was left was to get confirmation.
“Ashley,” she addressed the woman, taking a swig straight from the bottle, “whose invitation did you get first — mine or Joker’s?”
The brunette looked at her in surprise, leaning against the wall. At that moment Tali cautiously peeked through the doorway — also with a cactus in her hands.
“You sent invitations?” she asked sincerely.
Shepard smiled and took another gulp.
That rascal…
The rest of the female part of the crew arrived with a slight delay.
To Shepard’s surprise, with perfectly normal, small artificial trees — at least Miranda and Traynor did.
Jack, on the other hand, was holding a green bottle carefully wrapped in white tinsel.
Never in the history of the galaxy had anyone packaged rincól so beautifully.
Kasumi was nowhere to be seen, but Jane knew perfectly well she was somewhere around.
Jack and Miranda, as usual, were arguing loudly about something, but fell silent the moment they stepped over the threshold.
Shepard kept drinking. The rincól was hitting just right — perfect timing for when Joker would finally deign to show up.
Suddenly Jack burst out laughing. Not just laughing — she cackled at the top of her lungs, completely unrestrained. Shepard had never heard such genuine laughter from her before. Jack barely managed to shove her “tree” into Miranda’s hands, who was desperately trying to keep a straight face herself.
Shepard decided not to even look at Samantha’s expression.
She was already struggling not to crack up along with them.