PART ONE.

Sometimes death changes people,
Wilts rotten heartstrings and first impressions,
And though life grows from the ashes
, the void left
Can only be crossed by someone who has seen it firsthand,

Someone caught in the Crossfire of life and death themselves.


Chapter 1

~
Shepard was pissed, livid even, and it had nothing to do with anything she'd hope to be in such a volatile mood over. No, instead it had to do with a recent addition that had taken one step too many in overstepping her authority.

Zaeed Massani.

The man had yet to be part of her crew for longer than a month and had not only nearly gotten her squad killed - he'd blatantly crossed her command. She was Commander Shepard, Savior of the Citadel, the goddamned Hero of Galactic Space that had somehow defied death with little more than a few leftover scars and a helluvalot of emotional baggage. But that was another matter.

She'd never pegged Massani as problematic. He was a veteran mercenary – thrown into hell one too many times to know the difference anymore, and burnt to a golden bronze of steel determination and harsh cynicism, but someone who knew the ropes well enough not to cross them when it came down to it. When it came down to credits, or so Shepard had thought.

Zorya had proven her wrong. Had proven just how flimsy her chain of command could be if not everyone was on board. She relied on her squad, relied on her team to work together and make it through every obstacle no matter the odds, no matter the subject matter. She barely had enough of a team at the moment to afford a rogue squad member… The cost was too great.

It wasn't even the fate of entire galactic civilization that had her so angry though. After all, the man had cooled a very small bit of her ire when he'd grudgingly admitted his folly, but he'd still gone much too far to be met with a simple sit-down chit-chat to discuss his failing to oblige and adhere to her command.

No, as Commander and Captain it was her duty to put him in his place – the right way. It had to be done, and she wasn't looking forward to it.

Slamming a fist against the sideboard of her private cabin, Shepard stood swiftly and headed towards the elevator, punching the button harder than necessary. Her hand thrummed faintly but she didn't feel the pain as the elevator hummed to weary life.

Massani had made her look a fool.

He'd stripped her of her Command by undermining her, had gone and put her squad directly in the line of fire on the fat chance that an explosion would turn the tides from against them to for them, and for what?

True, it had worked, but Shepard had to be realistic – the man considered himself a one-man army and his high risk ventures might have gotten him where he was today, but not anymore – now his all-out solo risks were precisely the problem.

He was on a team now.
And revenge came second.

Under normal circumstances, she would have understood with the clarity that came with getting a second shot at life - hell, she could openly admit that she wasn't going to kick some collector ass just for the sake of the galaxy anymore but...

It wasn't all about him anymore, the great Veteran Mercenary that had lived through everything. He'd have to drop the baggage of twenty year old revenge or leave. Shepard couldn't accept that kind of disobedience again.

But that wasn't all of it. The whole reason she was so … so furious was not entirely because of what he'd done, but because of what'd he'd said.

As soon as he'd said, "this is MY mission," on Zorya he'd snapped the thin rein that was Shepard's recently flagging temper before proceeding to blow the place to hell – admittedly, it had been his mission, once. Minus the miniscule fact that when he had joined her squad, on her team, and had asked her to chart a course there, he should have known that as soon as they'd all set foot on that damnable piece of rock and jungle that it was no longer just his mission.

It was their mission.

And as a team, even personal missions become a matter of everyone's concern, and it made her blood boil and her muscles twitch in the desperate urge to throttle the damnable mercenary for not realizing that – former blue suns founder or not, no one broke ranks in such a way, not without hearing about it directly from her.

She exhaled a shaky breath even while her knuckles grew white at the thought. There was just something about the man that got under her skin.

Of all the stupid

The elevator door opened with a whoosh, and a marine scrambled out of her way as she stalked decisively down towards where Massani holed up. Fists clenched, she swiveled right, biotics dancing, teeth bared at the thought of how well the place might suit him if she'd had it in her to think it. Refuse with refuse?

She snorted in blatant disgust.

She'd had many different crew members over the years, and the dossiers supplied to her for this mission certainly promised more but …

Zaeed wasn't one of the Illusive Man's original dossiers; he was hired under the radar for a large sum of credits – a mere add-on that had only happened to withstand certain death from a shot to the head.

Shepard scoffed, she didn't give a damn about what he'd lived through or done. His reputation and how many mercs he'd killed was as good to her as dirt if he got her crew killed - she didn't give a shit that he'd survived a hole in the head; he was just another mercenary fighting for credits instead of reasons. He was a bloody fool.

The door to the Cargo Hold opened automatically as she approached and her electric blue orbs blazed as she regarded the cause of her current angry predicament – muscled arms, scarred facade, and smug attitude. She swore she'd seen the subtle twitch of his lip as she approached him and her anger increased tenfold.

He'd wanted to leave all those people to die.
What an ass.

His jaw unclenched.

Cutting whatever he was about to say off, Shepard allowed her momentum to bring her smack in front of him, slamming him up against the bulkheads, fists pulsing blue violently, eyes thunderstorms over an open ocean.

"I swear Massani, ever pull something like that again and I'll –"

He had the nerve to continue looking smug, unfazed by her rage.

"And you'll what, fire me?" He said snidely, lips twisting darkly, not even bothering to try to push Shepard off.

"Put a fucking bullet in my head Shepard? 'Cuz I'll tell you something sweetheart," Their faces were close enough for Shepard to feel the raggedness of his warm breath, the need to get a rise out of her, the remarkable twist of his lips, and the milky blue of the eye that must have been affected by the gunshot to the head.

"Been there done that."

He ground the words out, harsh, differently hued eyes dueling with hers.

"You're the goddamn reason Vido got away, I was so goddamn close to that fucking bastard, and you and your goddamn morals had to get in the way."

He snarled, hands clenched near his sides while hers were fisted in his collar – both focused solely on each other, uncaring as her biotics danced over exposed skin, burning and twisting.

"I don't give a damn where you've been Massani. Vido has it coming and he knows it, but I won't have my crew turning into monsters in pursuit of one," Shepard snarled back, eyes flashing, grip tightening as though to strangle him right through his shirt front.

"You put my crew in danger like that again, and I'll put a bullet right through that thick skull of yours myself." The thought flickered enticingly, vividly before her marine trained eyes.

"And this time, I'll make sure it goes all the way through."

Her lips twisted to harsh lines, eyes glittering.

"Try me." He mocked her, mocked her.

The bloom of fury was so sudden he didn't have time to prepare for the biotic slap that caught him across his scarred cheek. Grunting as he was let go of roughly, the blue suns co-founder straightened begrudgingly to wipe the trickle of blood that was working its way over his split lip, the scent of iron a sharp tang in the otherwise sterile cargo hold.

"You're a fucking bitch Shepard, you know that, right?"

Again he underestimated her, any other woman would have followed this up with further retaliation but to his surprise, she laughed, a breathy, rough sound of sarcasm and amusement, deadly fire and poison – this was the famed Commander Shepard after all. He now knew why Cerberus was willing to spend billions to bring her back. The bitch was good.

Veteran eyes drifted over her appreciatively, watching the way her chest heaved and the subtle way the blue pulse of biotics flickered angrily around her. Zaeed had always known how to play with fire; had done so often and with a certain type of eagerness that came with seeing if he could still taunt the flame and come out unscathed. But this time was different, this time he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't get burned, severely.

He shifted imperceptibly, readying himself as she began to speak again.

"Takes one to know one, Zaeed… and if I'm not mistaken…" Her eyes slid half closed, words breathy. She was pointedly antagonizing him, mouth sliding into an expression of haughty ire, "It takes a certain type of bitch to whine about shit that happened twenty years ago."

She sneered, lips curling in an attempt to further goad him to retaliate, to react - but it was her turn to be caught off guard as he charged her with a cry of anger, feeling the burn of bruises forming as her back hit the surveillance table with an audible crack before she was vying against him for the upper hand, weapons clattering to the floor.

Her muscles tightened, using the force of his momentum to pull him forwards, hoping to put him off balance. Her back smashed against the table again, their arms grappling as she ducked beneath a fist and shouldered him stiffly, grating her teeth against the pain.

She ended up with her back against the bulkheads, a hand on the gun at his lean hip while the other was wrapped around the tattooed wrist at her throat.

"You have no, goddamn, fucking right, Shepard."

Zaeed said. His voice was hoarse, a broken hiss as he ignored the gun at his abdomen, raging at the spectre so much he shook and she could almost admit to feeling bad about provoking him.

Almost.

"You have the goddamn nerve to discredit the hell that I've been living for the past twenty years?" His face drew closer to hers, so much so that she could have run her tongue along the scar on his cheek if she'd wanted to, or spit in his face. "You've got guts, I'll give you that." The thumb at her pulse drew downward, his hand almost unbearably warm on her skin as she shoved the barrel further into his hip, her pulse quickening imperceptibly.

"I don't need guts to deal with you, Zaeed." She hissed back, eyes continuing to clash as her nails sunk into the arm pinning her to the wall.

"Oh yeah?" The mercenary's voice was laced with tangible disbelief and something akin to amusement.

"Then what in holy hell do you need, Shepard?" He demanded, grip slackening momentarily on her throat as his eyes searched hers.

Something pulsed unobtrusively between them then, something slow and lingering that flickered across Shepard's gaze before converting into sharp recognition before it vanished, replaced by a slow, dangerous smile that made his stomach clench and his blood run hot as she whispered, "This," and breached the few centimeters between them, touching her lips to his.

Zaeed started as though struck, his heart beating faster as their lips broke apart.

Shepard's eyes widened, floored by her own actions. She tried in vain to pull back, but was prevented by his hand still gripped around her neck from squirming out from under his grasp, and like hell he was going to allow her to back out on this now, no, oh no, she had the goddamn nerve to start all of this, he'd burn in hell before he'd back out now.

He breached the space between them again, head bent to hers as he let his lips drift over hers tantalizingly, tasting metal and fire, tightening his fingers around her seemingly fragile neck. Her muscles twitched, forcing his eyes from those damnable lips back to her eyes, head tilted slightly as he observed the swirling blue; a wry expression goading her.

"What's the matter Shepard, scared?" He breathed, smirking. By all rights he figured he should have a bullet in his liver by now, and the only reason why he didn't was because she valued him as a crew member more than he had originally thought. Zaeed wasn't born yesterday, he knew when the gamble was higher than the bet that he'd make it out alive, but that didn't mean anything to a gambler at heart, and any involvement with Shepard threw all bets out the window - engineer Donnelly had learned that the hard way.

He didn't give a damn though - he was too goddamn selfish to pass something like this up –it wouldn't last, couldn't last anyways. And it had been far too long since anyone had ever pissed him off and turned him on so completely.

Her posture shifted under his scrutiny, and he realized with the same clench of gut, that the dangerous smile was back again, the spectre's eyes creased in narrow, azure slits, mouth twitching mockingly.

"Massani, I think we can both attest, that there are far more things worth being afraid over."

Shepard's tongue darted out to wet her lips slowly, as though deciding something, and he found he could do nothing but watch, hand at her throat, her gun at his pelvis – a stalemate. She knew he wasn't going to pass this up, his pupils were dilated – and for the life of her, she couldn't think straight when confronted with their mingled breaths, the way his arm was wrapped around her and the way his smirk said there was no backing out.

Her eyes shifted away from his briefly, a decision already unconsciously formed.
She did know how to play this game.

The blue of her irises swirled with gray, and when they finally greeted his again, the intensity Zaeed saw made his heart thud and his muscles tighten.

He would learn later, that this was the one look that would doom him, but he was far too gone in the sensation of his gut twisting sharply at her slanted lashes and her breasts brushing against his chest for him to think of anything else.

"Kiss me." She said.