Dear Kaidan,

It was always the easiest to start the letter. Two words – salutation and name. Shepard had yet to get beyond that simple phrase – the rest was infinitely harder. Staring at the datapad resting on the desk before her, she absently ran her fingers through the electromagnetic field, watching random letters appear and disappear before she wiped the letter clean with an exasperated sigh.

"Siha?" Thane's voice came from behind, and as she turned, she spied the drell standing at her back. He'd pulled on his pants but nothing else, and crossed his arms over his bare, green chest as he regarded her with concern. "You should be sleeping. It's scant hours before we reach the relay."

"I know. I just…" Turning back to her desk as Thane stepped forward, placing his hand gently upon her shoulder, she spied the photograph and reached out to turn it facedown. Before she could touch it, the drell took hold of it, hoisting it out of her reach as he studied the human face framed by dark wood. "I – sorry."

The alien face was impassive as his large, dark eyes studied the strong-jawed, dark haired man. "This is Kaidan, yes? Kaidan Alenko, the human you knew on the original Normandy?" Dropping her hand to rest limply against the desk, Shepard watched his face with her own misgivings writ large on hers. She nodded silently in response to his question. "He looks stubborn."

Despite herself, Shepard snorted. "He could give me lessons," she murmured dryly, absently pressing the heel of her hand to her breastbone at the unexpected ache in her heart. "He's a good man though," she added defensively, before sighing.

Thane raised one hairless eyebrow, the scales of his face glinting dully in the light of the aquarium at his back. "Of that I have no doubt, if you love him so."

"Loved," Shepard corrected, reaching up to take the picture from the drell's grasp and lay it firmly, facedown, upon her desk. "I loved him. I love you, now," she added, just a bit shyly as she tore her gaze from the picture to gaze up at the slim alien.

Thane smiled, just a slight tug at the corners of his lips as he reached out to stroke the back of his fingers down her cheek. "No, Siha," he corrected gently. "You still love him. That doesn't mean," he added, silencing her protest with a finger against her lips, "that you don't love me. One does not negate the other. But there is a lot of unfinished business between you and this human of yours, and I think maybe you underestimate the strength of the bond between you."

Shepard pressed her lips together in a light kiss against Thane's fingertip, then slid out of the chair, rising to her feet. The oversized shirt she favored as night wear brushed her long thighs as she moved to wrap her arms around the drell's waist, laying her forehead against his temple. "Maybe," she replied, a bit dubiously, "but I think it's a moot point now. He made it clear how he feels about me on Horizon," and a hint of bitter steel entered her voice, "and now…." She trailed off, her eyes and his both flashing to the countdown clock on her terminal, the one that warned of the Normandy's imminent arrival at the Omega-4 relay. Two hours, sixteen minutes, fifty-one seconds. Fifty seconds. Forty-nine seconds.

"You were writing him a letter?" Thane asked as he slid his arm around her waist, turning his head slightly and inhaling the scent of electronics and leather and the faint musk of roses that was uniquely Shepard. "That is an excellent idea. Perhaps I should write one to Kolyat. I am certain we could find someone on Omega to relay them on."

"I – " Stuttering to a stop, Shepard pulled away from the drell, staring up into his face. "I don't understand," she finally admitted, a slight frown on her face. "I thought you – and I…"

Thane gently turned the commander in his arms, reaching out to rest his hands on her hips as he studied her in the dim, blue-tinged light. "What – that we were lovers? I'm pretty certain we proved that in these past several hours. That I love you? I do, Siha, just as I know you love me." He lifted one hand, pressing his fingertips lightly between her breasts, against her heartbeat. "Love for one does not preclude love for another. Do you think my love for my Irikah fades because she is gone, or because I have found you, my angel? Kaidan is a part of you – an unfinished part, no less. Do you think he would have reacted so on Horizon had he not been hurt? Do you think he would have been so hurt if he did not still have feelings for you?"

"I don't know. At the time – he made me so angry, Thane. He doubted me! How do you doubt someone you love?"

Thane slipped his hands into the pockets of his pants as he watched Shepard break away, arms crossed beneath her breasts as she paced energetically. "All he knew is that you were dead, Siha," the drell reminded her gently. "Then suddenly, you are alive – with no warning. With no communication. Alive, and in Cerberus gear, in a Cerberus ship, with Cerberus crewmates. Cerberus," he said again, emphasizing the word, "the same organization you helped uncover so many terrible things about while chasing down the rogue spectre - with Kaidan."

"I know, I know, I know!" she cried, hands fisting at her sides as she whirled to face him, anger born of frustration glinting in her eyes. "Don't you know how much I hate all of this, how much it sucks to be beholden to the Illusive Man?" Drained she dropped her hands to rest against the glass of the aquarium, watching the fish swim in their little world, unconcerned by the turmoil beyond their waters. "I hate it, and I hate knowing you're right. I know why Kaidan said the things he said. I know why he feels the way he feels. I just… it hurts, Thane."

"It hurts, my Siha, because you love him, and you hate knowing that, even inadvertently, you hurt him in turn." Thane came up behind Shepard, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. "You need to tell him. Tell him everything there was no time to say on Horizon. Tell him how you feel about what you are doing – how you feel about what he said. You need to say your piece, Shepard, to have your peace." His huge, dark eyes – enigmatic even to her – met her own in the wavering reflection off the glass.

Defeated, she rested her forehead against the glass, felt his fingers knead her shoulders against the building tension. "You're right. Where we're going, I can't afford to have – regrets – hanging over me." Turning under his hands, she leaned up, pressing her lips lightly to his. "Thank you, Thane."

"Always, my Siha. I will return before we hit the relay." Again, their joined glances found the countdown clock. Two hours, seven minutes, sixteen seconds. Fifteen seconds. Fourteen seconds. "Be at peace. I love you." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then turned to leave the cabin.

"I love you too, Thane," she murmured, seeing his fingers twitch in reply before the door shut between them. Alone in her cabin, but for the fish swimming in their tank and the flashing numbers counting down to inevitability. With a sigh, she turned back to the desk, reaching out to set Kaidan's picture upright once more. Settling down at the desk, she turned on the datapad and began to type – then, instead, sat back to record her voice.

Dear Kaidan,

I'm sorry. I should have let you know that I survived the destruction of the Normandy. Or – not survived but, rather, revived from. It's very confusing. I am not certain what to believe of it. My first memory upon waking is the alarms, the screams; we were under attack, and it feels like it hasn't let up since that moment. But – I had time. I wanted to. I just – they said it had been two years. Two years, Kaidan, since I had, for all intents and purposes, died. I thought for sure you had moved on.

I hoped you had moved on. I couldn't stand the idea that you were missing me all these years, even as my heart ached at the thought of you moving on, forgetting me. I needed to believe you were happy. I think that's why I never said anything – if I kept quiet, then I'd never know if you were unhappy. Or happy.

Without me.

By the time Horizon came along, I had convinced myself that I was doing the right thing. I was caught up in events – in the mystery of people disappearing, in the politics of keeping myself just out of the Illusive Man's grasp. I never trusted him. If you never believe anything else I say, Kaidan, believe this: I did not work for the Illusive Man. I used him. I used him to give me a ship, to give me a crew, to give me what I needed to save all of those innocent people. I never joined Cerberus. I would never have joined Cerberus. Working with them was a means to an end, and it always made me feel dirty, but what else could I do? The Alliance, the Council, would have tied my hands, endangered far too many people. At least this way I could do what had to be done before it was too late.

Now, though… now it's too late. Remember what they said about Ilos – how impossible the mission was, that it was suicide?

That wasn't suicide. That was following a relay we were pretty sure was intact. After all, Saren knew about it, and he had sources of information we couldn't begin to understand. I never felt frightened about going to Ilos, only apprehensive that we beat Saren there and stop him before he could destroy us all.

Kaidan, I am so frightened now. If I let myself think about it, I think I might start screaming. We don't know anything about the Omega-4 relay. Mapping puts it in the center of the galaxy.

The center of the galaxy, Kaidan! Black holes and nebulas and thousands of stars all clustered together. Can you imagine the forces that must exist there? What if that is where the Reapers come from, and we end up in the middle of their entire fleet? What if there are ten – twenty – a hundred Collector ships with those shipkiller cannons of theirs just waiting to gun us down? What if we come out in the middle of radiation too lethal for us to survive?

I have no idea what is going to happen once we hit that relay, Kaidan. I can hope for the best, but I have to prepare for the worse. So. This letter.

I'm sorry, Kaidan, that I left you. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you when I came back. I'm sorry that we had to meet again under such circumstances and I'm sorry that I didn't take the time to let you know all of this before the end. I'm sorry, most of all, that I hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.

I love you, Kaidan. And I hope, when all of this is said and done, that you can find your own measure of peace and happiness. You deserve it.

Yours,

Shepard

As the clock ticked down to an hour, her door chimed, then slid open to reveal Thane, still wearing only his pants. His bare feet whispered against the floor as he approached the desk where Shepard sat, her head resting on her folded arms, her breath whispering softly as she slept peacefully. He reached out to stroke her dark hair, his lips curving in a gentle smile before he picked up the still active datapad. He blanked the screen without looking at the letter she had dictated, setting it to the side to keep it safe. In silence, he slid his arms between her and the chair, lifting her with ease.

Carefully, he carried her to the bed, lowering her to the mussed covers and twitching them to the side and over her sleeping form. Crossing to the other side, he slid in beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist and snugging her close to his side. Her head came to rest against his shoulder, his hand coming up to cover his chest, and she sighed softly, easing deeper into sleep. Holding her close, being held close, he followed.

For the brief time left to them, they slept, at peace. Together.