Author's Note: I'm not writing this story as any sort of definite history for Zaeed. In fact, I'm writing it to apply pretty exclusively to my Shepard's story (as will become more evident in later chapters). More for my own fun than anything. Apologies for any spelling/grammar mistakes, I don't have time for any thorough proofreads.

"Don't sleep with her."

"I… don't even know what you're talking about," Zaeed said, keeping his eyes very carefully on his rifle as he cleaned it. He didn't need to look up to know what sort of face Vido was making at him.

"Look, she's good with a sniper rifle, she knows her way around explosives. We do not need to get on her bad side," Vido said.

"Now you're acting like all the girls I sleep with want to kill me," Zaeed said with a laugh.

"They do," Vido said flatly.

"Oh come on, that is a bit of an exaggeration," Zaeed said, finally looking up at his friend with a skeptical look on his face, his frown making the scar on his chin contort a little.

"Saira, Naomi, Tracy, Claire, Pale, Mel…" Vido listed off names. "You slept with all of them. Then they all tried to kill us."

"Well to be fair, Claire was trying to kill everyone on that freighter, not just us," Zaeed argued, crossing his arms.

"Zaeed."

"What?"

"Do. Not. Sleep. With. Esme," Vido said harshly, jabbing a rough finger into Zaeed's chest.

"Goddamn, alright, I get it," Zaeed said, shoving him away with a glare. "No sleeping with teammates. Maybe you should have told me that this morning," he huffed, making Vido falter.

"You didn't," he hissed. A smug look spread across Zaeed's face as he turned back to his rifle. "Zaeed, you did not sleep with Esme. Tell me you did not sleep with her. Fuck. Fuck. You always do this! Every single mildly attractive female we work with-"

"Esme's a bit more than mildly attractive," Zaeed cut in defensively.

"It doesn't matter! You sleep with all of them! And then you do something stupid, and they want to kill us!" Vido shot back angrily. "I liked Esme. Now? Now we have to kill her."

"Oh, come on, Vido, we don't have to do that," Zaeed argued. "She's not going to try to kill us."

"Oh you mean like there was no reason for Naomi to try and kill us?" Vido demanded.

"Okay, I will admit, things got a little rough with Naomi, but she had a serious mental condition before we started working with her. I mean, she skinned people, for fuck's sake, we knew she was crazy already," Zaeed said.

"And yet you still slept with her."

"She had some great tits," Zaeed said appreciatively. "Hey, this is different," he said when Vido started giving him that look again. "Totally casual, no emotional attachment. I've already talked with her, she's not going to be a problem," he explained. Vido sucked in a breath, wondering if he could really trust his friend about this. It hadn't worked out the last seven or so times. But he didn't want to have to put a bullet in Esme's head if he didn't have to.

"Fine," he sighed finally. "But if she goes crazy, you're the one that's going to have to shoot her," he warned Zaeed.

"She'll be fine," he said, turning back to his rifle.

"She better be," Vido said, and then left him to his work.

Two months later things were going swimmingly, if Zaeed could say so himself. Working with Esme had turned out to be one of his better ideas over the years, and sleeping with her hadn't turned out too bad either. They had successfully completed several jobs together, made some decent money, and at the end of the day they headed back to the apartment and he got to bang her. No strings attached.

Well, none that he could see at least. That little voice in the back of his head was telling him that something was bound to go wrong soon. But so far this whole relationship had been going much better than any of his previous ones, mostly because the two of them had decided to keep it strictly business. She didn't ask for any dates or commitment or even so much as holding hands. They shot things together, and then they fucked. Simple as that.

"Watch your ass, Zaeed!"

Right now they were shooting things. Vido was on his left, Esme was taking cover behind some boxes on his right, and in front of them were a shitload of mercs. Business as usual. All they had to do was take down these guys, grab a few crates worth of guns, and then deliver them for their paycheck. Nine thousand credits. Split three ways it was still good money, and easy work.

"Biotic!" Vido yelled, and they both dove for cover as the aforementioned biotic sent the crates they were hiding behind flying into the air. Zaeed took a few shots at her as he moved, lowering her shields a bit before landing roughly next to Esme.

"You gonna take her out or what?" he asked her as she swung her sniper rifle around to aim at the biotic.

"You gonna sit there on your ass and talk to me or what?" she asked as she took her shot. The biotic stumbled backwards and fell with a brand new hole through her head. "Your turn, hot shit," she told him as she ducked back down to reload. By the time she was turned to aim again he had taken down two more mercs, and was taking shots at a third. Between the two of them and Vido, they had finished off the rest of the mercs in a matter of minutes.

"Getting a little sloppy there, Esme," Vido said as they emerged from cover to survey their victory.

"Up yours, Vido," Esme snapped, and Vido raised an eyebrow at Zaeed. He'd been doing that a lot lately, like he was expecting Esme to turn mad dog on them. The look he sent back at Vido was less than friendly.

"Alright, looks clear here," Zaeed announced as he finished his sweep of the area, lowering his rifle. "You see the crates anywhere?"

"It's a warehouse. There's crates everywhere," Vido scoffed, earning a nasty glare from Esme. Fuck, she was cranky lately. Zaeed hoped it didn't mean she was going to snap anytime soon. But he decided to just put it down to the flu she seemed to have caught; she spent most of her mornings bent over the toilet like a lightweight after happy hour.

"Hey, I think I found them," Esme called from a dark corner. A tarp was thrown over a several heavy crates, and after closer inspection they decided these were the ones they were after. "Alright, there's only four, we can move these pretty easily. Vido, you get the transport-"

"Wait." Zaeed cocked his rifle, trying to pick up the noise he had just heard. The smallest of bumps, but even that could mean a bullet to the back of the head if you weren't careful. Picking up on his caution, Vido and Esme both drew their weapons.

"How many mercs did Gorn say there would be?" Vido asked lowly.

"Maybe five," Esme answered, her eyes darting from one shadow to the next. "We killed twelve…"

"You don't think he…?"

"Double-crossed us? Probably," Zaeed laughed shortly, now sure he could hear someone sneaking around just beyond their sights. He just couldn't figure out where yet. "Fuck it, these crates are ours. We can make at least double what he was going to pay us off of them."

"If we don't get killed first," Vido huffed, visibly tense about the whole situation. He almost jumped when the crack of a gunshot cut through the air.

"Don't be such a goddamn pussy," Esme said, reloading her sniper rifle as a merc fell out of the shadows near the doors, a bloody hole through his chest.

"I knew there was a reason I kept you around," Zaeed laughed. A second later it began raining bullets.

The three took cover behind the crates as mercs poured in through the doors, firing at them. Zaeed quickly took a count of eight, recognizing a few of them as regular muscle for Gorn. And they weren't smalltime like he and Vido were; these were the big players, the ones the boss went to when he wanted something done. Whatever was in these crates must be serious.

"Vido, d'you think you can make it to the transport and bring it back around here?" Zaeed yelled over the gunfire, a bullet ricocheting off a crate just a few inches from his head.

"What? Are you fucking insane, we need to get the hell out of here!" Vido yelled back, managing to blow off a few shots before being forced back into cover by return fire.

"Whatever is in these crates, Gorn wants. And I don't take too kindly to betrayal," Zaeed argued.

"There's an emergency exit just over there," Esme butted in, pointing to the opposite wall. Indeed, a red neon exit sign glowed dimly above a small door in the corner. "Zaeed and I will make a distraction and cover you. Sneak out through there, grab the transport and then swing back around."

"Do you see who's shooting at us? You two are going to get killed," Vido said, glancing wearily at the exit.

"Then you can bring the flowers to our fuckin' funeral!" Esme snapped. "Zaeed, you ready?" she asked, turning to him. It didn't seem like she was going to give either of them a choice. Zaeed was suddenly reminded of why he liked her so much.

"Let's kill some goddamn mercs," he grinned, cocking his gun.

"Zaeed. Esme. Come on, don't-"

"HEY YOU COCKSUCKERS!" Esme screamed as she vaulted over the crates before Vido could even finish. She sprinted across the line of fire, yelling swears and lewd insults concerning the sexual preferences of the merc's mothers as she ran.

"Go," Zaeed told Vido, firing at a merc that was about ready to gun Esme down.

"But-"

"Get your skinny ass going right now or I swear I will shoot you myself," Zaeed growled, simultaneously firing off a shot that hit a merc in the leg, causing him to fall over and begin to complain immensely. Vido didn't need much more coaxing, and as he saw it he was going to get killed either way. So as Zaeed began firing on the mercs again he took off towards the exit.

"And he's gone," Esme said, landing neatly next to Zaeed behind the crates as Vido successfully exited the warehouse without notice. Their distraction had worked. "How long d'you think it'll take him to get back here?" she asked.

"Maybe fifteen minutes. Long enough," Zaeed said distractedly, shooting at a particularly irritating merc who kept ducking behind cover every time he tried to get a good aim on him. "Don't worry, princess, I'll protect you," he sneered at her, earning a swift punch to the side.

"Ass," she grumbled, popping the heatsink on her rifle as she finished firing off a shot. It had missed. They weren't doing too well here; these guys were as good as they were supposed to be. The best they could really do is hold them off, but even then Zaeed was beginning to get worried. He hoped this wasn't going to turn into another "and I was the only one that made it out of there alive" situations.

"Hey, Zaeed," she said quietly as he began to take aim again. He might actually have a shot at that one guy this time. If he could start bringing down the merc's numbers they might actually have a chance.

"What?" he said gruffly, fully occupied with getting a good shot. Whatever nonsense she wanted to chat about could wai-

"I'm pregnant."

Zaeed's shot missed completely, ricocheting off a crate and then into the rafters as he turned to look completely dumb-founded at Esme, who he could only describe as looking sheepish and embarrassed.

"What… I mean, ah… How…" He stumbled over his words, trying to form a coherent sentence that would adequately express his presently jumbled emotions. "Where the fuck did that come from?" he settled on finally.

"Your dick, I'm presuming," she said sourly.

"I don't mean that! I mean… Just… Just what the fuck! Why are you telling me this now, we're getting shot at! I mean, just fuck. Are you sure? Is it mine? Are you sure it's mine? Are you abso-fucking-lutely positive that it is mine?" he grilled her. She only nodded. "Christ. Fuck. Fucking fuck, Esme, this is…. What the fuck."

"It's not like I planned it, this is your fault too!" she argued, glaring at him. They both paused for a moment to return fire, but Zaeed could hardly stop the incredulous look he was giving her.

"I thought you were on the pill or something?" he demanded as they ducked back down.

"Yeah, well, prescriptions are expensive out here and last month it was a choice between explosives for that job with Connor, or birth control. What?" she snapped as he gave her a look. "I figured we'd use a condom, it would be fine!"

"Apparently not!" Zaeed shouted.

"Oh, do not look at me like this is totally my fau-"

"Get down!"Zaeed found himself surprisingly grateful that Gorn's men had brought a rocket launcher. It brought a welcome break to the whole awkward conversation as he and Esme dove in opposite directions to avoid a fiery death and-slash-or painful injury.

"Damn it, where's Vido?" Esme snarled, sprinting for cover. Zaeed was lucky; he had a nice cement pillar handy to hide behind even when the rocket had taken out the musty old boxes they had been using for cover. Esme was left out in the open, and Zaeed didn't even have time to react as a bullet thudded into her thigh. She was stumbling. Another second, the bastards would have her gunned down, dead.

Shit.

Shit.

"SHIT!" He charged out from behind his cover, firing blindly at the mercs as he raced towards Esme. What the goddamn fuck was he even doing? He could have stayed behind that pillar, probably fended off the mercs till Vido got there and they could have gotten away. Esme would probably be dead, but so what? He and Vido had plenty of partners in the past, most of them ended up dead, but it wasn't any skin off of his back. Just meant he got a bigger cut in the paycheck.

Esme had taken another hit by now, in the shoulder, but he was already there by the time she hit the ground. Another half second and he had his arm wrapped around her waist, hoisting her up like a sack of illegal drugs disguised as flour. He didn't stop running, even when a bullet grazed his back, and tossed Esme over the pile of crates that had started all of this mess. He vaulted after her, managing to fire off a few more shots before landing harshly on his ass.

"You okay?" he asked, the injury on his back burning painfully. Esme was glaring at him, clutching her leg.

"You're fucking crazy," she told him. "You… crazy mother-"

"And you dropped one hell of a bomb on me in the middle of a fire fight. Look, we'll have a nice long discussion later. Right now, let's just focus on getting out of here alive," he snapped at her.

"So you're-"

"Later, Esme," he snarled, moving to take aim again. Godamnit if he wasn't going to take out a few more of these bastards before they-

His train of thought was abruptly cut off as a large red truck blasted its way through the line of mercs, sending them flying for cover and two of them it just plain sent flying.

"Well shit," Zaeed said as the truck squealed to a stop in front of the crates. Vido leaned out of the window, sporting a pair of shades Zaeed was sure he'd never seen before.

"You two dead yet?" he yelled as the mercs tried to regroup on the other end of the warehouse.

"Vido, that is not my car," Zaeed said, staring at the truck as Esme struggled to her feet, grabbing a crate and heading over to the trunk. "What did you do to my car?" Zaeed demanded, glaring at his friend.

"Fuck your car, grab the crates!" Esme shouted at him as she loaded one into the back. She spun back around to the other side of the truck for cover as the mercs started firing again. Swearing, Zaeed began to help her, the three of them all too aware of the mercs that were starting to rush at them. Finally, only one crate left.

Zaeed took one end, Esme took the other, her injured leg dragging a bit though she managed to keep up. One merc, an ugly brute Zaeed had seen butcher a guy once, charged at them. By the time the crate was in the truck he was right on them.

"Start drivin'!" Zaeed shouted at Vido, unceremoniously tossing Esme into the back with the crates. He turned around just in time to sock the stupid merc bastard in the jaw, jumping onto the truck just as Vido stepped on the gas. Esme was swearing, Vido was yelling, and he was laughing like a madman as they sped away with bullets bouncing off car like hail.

Of course they couldn't just head back to the apartment. Gorn would be waiting for them, so they headed to the outskirts where everything was seedy motels and seedier fast food joints. They dumped the truck, jacking another one some poor bastard had left sitting out with the windows rolled down, moving the crates and finding a cheap hotel room to lay low for a few days. As Vido headed out to get drinks, Zaeed thought he might be able to end the day without any more awkward confrontations with Esme.

He planned to take a shower, get drunk when Vido got back with the beer, and go to sleep. Esme… That was a problem he would have to deal with, sooner or later. But right now he hoped it would be later. He had no idea what he was going to say to the woman, what he was supposed to say. The adrenaline and the rush of the fight had distracted him, but now that they were settled down and he had a chance to think, well…

Fuck.

The last thing he had ever planned on was a kid. The few times it had crossed his mind he had always figured he would book it before the thing got born, like his own dad had done. But that solution was a lot easier to stomach when he was just thinking about some faceless hooker. He couldn't just leave Esme. It wasn't that he loved her, nothing as syrupy-sweet as that. They were friends with benefits.

Unfortunately the emphasis was on the "friends" and less so the "benefits." That was the real problem. He'd broken hearts before, but he didn't like the idea of doing it to someone he thought of as a friend.

"Hey." He learned against the doorframe of the bathroom. Esme was inside, busy patching up her leg, sitting on the floor as she tried to dig the bullet out with a pair of tweezers. Not the first time she had done this. "Here, let me," he said, leaning down and taking the tweezers and wiping away some of the blood with his sleeve.

"One of these days we're going to have to learn proper first aid," Esme said, clutching her teeth against the pain. She never complained about it though. Tough girl.

"Heh, yeah," he laughed. "Ah, got the bugger," he said as he latched on to the bullet, pulling it out carefully. Neither of them spoke as he helped her dress the wound, though they both knew what the other was thinking. He must have played out the entire conversation through his head a hundred times, trying to figure out all the different outcomes, what she would say. What he would say.

"Zaeed…" she said finally, as he got up to wash his hands of the blood.

"Esme, my answer is yes."

"What?" Definitely not what she had expected him to say. He almost wanted to smile. "What do you mean 'yes'?" she asked him suspiciously, like it was some sort of trick.

"You know exactly what I mean," he told her, crossing his arms. "I don't want any big discussions here. I've made up my mind."

"Yes?"

"Yes."

Esme smiled. A second later he did too. He had made up his mind on the matter, he was completely positive about what he was doing. But even so he couldn't help but think this was a terrible, terrible idea.