Disclaimer: I don't own anything pertaining to ME in this story.

She worked it out the third time she took the hit. Nobody fired three concussive shots in a row on purpose. Well, at least not when they were supposed to be killing you. Shepard slid down the wall, popping a heat sink. If that was the way he wanted to play it, she could play. With practiced fingers, she loaded an overload in her omnitool, and, without bothering to look, charged out from cover.

She caught the turian off guard, right as he maneuvered between cover. It helped that he held intimate knowledge of her fighting style and probably had expected her to follow her usual pattern. If she had been fighting any random turian, she would have. But knowing your opponent's fighting preferences was a weakness as much as it was a strength. By changing it, Shepard gained the upper hand. It also helped he had not been in a firefight with her for over a year.

The overload knocked out his shields and she slammed into his armored frame without a moment's hesitation, sending them both sprawling. Neither bothered trying to get up, simply letting the fight stay on the ground. They each knew wasting the time to get to their feet let the other do the same and the first to manage it would win. An elbow connected with Shepard's helmet, making her ears ring. Her knee landed a solid hit to his less protected side. She followed it with a double jab to his armpit. His hiss was audible, but he did not flinch, instead clamping his arm to his side, trapping her hand. He rolled, using the momentary advantage of her lost hand and taking it without hesitation.

He straddled her, and released her trapped hand in order to bend the arm backward in a painful arm lock. This time she made the hiss. It did not stop her from smashing her head into his, giving her just enough freedom to twist, and lessen the pressure on her arm. The motion also exposed his neck for an instant, just enough time for Shepard to slam her free hand into it. He jerked back hard and far enough for her to slither out from him. He still held her wrist though, and he pulled up, removing her use of the floor as leverage.

She moved with the motion, the chest of her armor meeting his, helmets face to face.

"Shepard," he greeted, twisting her arm. She felt a stab of satisfaction at his heavy breathing.

"Bastard," she replied, using her free hand to grab his before he could smash it into the side of her head.

"Bastard? A little harsh, after everything we've been through together, don't you think?"

"You shot me!"

"And you shot me, if I recall correctly."

Shepard growled in frustration. The turian pushed his helmet against her's, effectively preventing her from gaining momentum for another head butt.

"You knew it was me when you fired!" She accused. "This was my mission! Do you know how many merc and bounty hunters I went through to get this far? And then you shoot me and expect me not to think you were just another one?"

"Actually, I didn't know it was your mission. I assumed you worked for Harper. I only realized it was you after you did the trick with the exploding vents. Very nice by the way."

"You still shot me twice after that."

His chuckle did not help his case. "What can I say, I like watching you run like your tail's on fire."

Shepard growled again, but there was less heat this time. "I should have shot you with incendiary rounds."

"That wouldn't have been very nice," he commented. "Are you going to let me go?"

"Depends – you going to let me go?"

Both of them released each other abruptly. They did not separate however. Shepard felt a hand ghost up her side and come to rest on her shoulder, and the other settle on her waist. She could not chastise, considering her own hands had moved to sit on his chest. He chuckled again.

"Did you miss me?"

"Like I would miss a boil," she responded.

"Liar."

She did not deny it. "So what are you doing out here, if the Council didn't send you as back up? Hell, what are you doing back out of the Terminus? Last time we spoke you said you had a plan that was going to remove the red sand problem we'd developed in Council Space."

"I did. And do. Guess who's running the red sand?" he asked.

"Fuck. Harper's got his fingers in a lot of pies." She hit the outside of his armor softly. "Ass. If you were going to becoming back, you should have sent me a message."

"What, and miss you trying to bash my head in? What fun would that be? Besides, I thought you were still playing tag with pirates in Alliance space."

She shrugged. "Council called, said they had a pressing problem. And being the only human Spectre, I likely was the only one who could infiltrate the station without causing a ruckus."

"And of course," he said, "you took infiltration to mean kill everyone in your path and - correct me if I'm wrong - blow up the southern sector?"

"Infiltration was the word when the Council though the station was full of civilians. Not mercs. Makes sense now with the red sand info."

The conversation stopped as both picked up the telltale sounds of someone trying to get through the pair of blast doors Shepard had jammed.

"I though you killed everyone on your way in."

"Apparently I missed some," she said grimacing, not that he could see the expression. She stood and he went with her, hands still lingering. "Harper should be in the next room. Stay."

"What am I, a varren?" he asked, amusement coloring his voice.

"You are a kill stealer," she answered, heading for the silent door off to her right. "And Harper is mine."

"He could have more mercs in there," he said innocently, following her. "I wouldn't want them to have to face you alone."

She huffed, but did not argue, instead taking up position on one side of the door. He mirrored her. She gripped her previously ignored gun, and gave a curt nod. His omnitool flashed and the door slid open.

There were mercenaries, just like he had suggested. He darted into the room, trusting Shepard to provide cover. She did, effortless picking off two with headshots, before moving into the room herself. Thirteen months, four days since they had last been on a mission together and yet they fell into rhythm instantly. The mercenaries never stood a chance. In seconds it was just Harper and two Spectres.

"I-I'm sure we can work something out," the balding man stammered, backing up against the desk. "I have money – weapons – drugs! You can have any of it, just don't kill me."

"I don't think he understands the situation, Shepard."

"No, I don't think so either. Hey, Harper, do you know how many deaths you've caused in the last year? Running drugs, supporting terrorist bombing on the Citadel, smuggling weapons – do I really need to go on?"

Harper glared. "I doubt I've killed as many as you have, bitch."

Laughter came from her left. "Oh, he has you there, Shepard. Of course, she does it with flair – that makes all the difference."

"No, what makes the difference is I only kill people who are really, really asking for it. Or shoot at me. Or shoot at someone I like. On occasion I've been known to kill turians who think it's funny to knock out shields instead of just saying hi."

Harper stared at the pair. "Who the fuck are you people?"

"Commander Shepard, Special -"

Harper moved fast, pulling a gun, and firing. Unfortunately for him, his aim could use serious work, and both the Spectres present had fired as soon as Harper had twitched.

"Fuck, I told you he was mine, you bird!" Shepard snarled. "Your headshot blew his head off! I hate bring decapped bodies back to the authorities."

"He was going to shoot you. I was defending your body."

Shepard's swears told him exactly what she thought about that.

A/N: Written for prompt on the mass effect kinkmeme, a request for harmless fun between Shepard and Nihlus.

Rated for violence and language.