With a weary sigh, Commander Craig Shepard stepped out of his private bathroom, fresh from the hot shower he had enjoyed until a few moments ago. He felt clean and comfortable, something that had been fairly rare over the last few weeks. If only the shower could take away some of my tiredness he mused as he moved over to the clothes cupboard near his bed. The cool air in the Loft was refreshing against his bare skin and quickly dried the last traces of dampness from his skin.

Looking over his fairly sparse collection of clothes, Shepard chose the formal tuxedo Kasumi had given him when they attended Donovan Hock's party for the criminal masterminds of the galaxy. With a grin, thinking of that rather interesting event, Shepard began to dress himself. It was a similar cut and finish to the tuxedo he normally wore, but it was all black in colour. He had dropped his normal tuxedo into the laundry chute before his shower. It seemed strange, but in a way that particular tuxedo with its gold Cerberus logos on the neck and cuffs had become his uniform, his signature. It was comfortable, stylish and very well made; something his crew on the Normandy had commented on from time to time. It was very different from the casual Alliance clothes he was used to wearing back on the Normandy SR-1, but he had come to enjoy wearing the tuxedo.

Fully dressed now, Shepard decided to confront the issue that had been nagging at his mind for the last two days. The Normandy was on the way to the Citadel, where Shepard hoped to convince the Council about the coming Reaper threat for once and all, armed with real proof this time. Besides fighting the Council, Shepard had been informed by Engineers Ken and Gabby that the Citadel would be the only place they could go to get certain highly technical repairs done to the ship. Since cutting ties with Cerberus, Shepard no longer had access to their ship repair yards or credits, which while painful, suited him perfectly. The repairs would put a serious dent in their credits, but they could easily make up that amount by doing a few odd jobs. If Shepard could get the ship adopted by the Council or the Alliance, it would matter even less, as they would finance the ship.

"EDI, please send Miranda to the Loft if she is free. I need to discuss some matters with her," Shepard called out loud.

EDI's warm but slightly disjointed voice replied "Certainly Commander. Miss Lawson has just stepped out of the shower; I shall direct her to the Loft as soon as she is done dressing."

"Thank you EDI, that will be all for now."

Shepard sat down at his terminal, idly looking over to the holographic photo of Ashley on his desk. As always when looking at her photo, Shepard felt his heart wrench a little. He missed Ashley deeply, but he didn't quite know what to do about their whole situation just yet. He had never been very good around members of the opposite sex. Ashley had been a handful since the day he had met her on Eden Prime; he had overcome his awkwardness to win her love and affection before having it all ripped away thanks to the Collectors. Without any effort, it always seemed that she could make him twist and trip over his own tongue, or sprout the most ridiculous sayings that would end with her struggling to hold her giggles back. Many people had complimented him on his excellent ability at making speeches, but for some reason when it came to Ashley, Shepard's famed skills deserted him.

As he waited, Craig flicked over the email Ashley had sent him a short while after their encounter on Horizon. He had tried half a dozen times to frame a suitable reply, but nothing ever felt right to him. No words written down could truly explain how he felt. Added to his limited free time, he had been unable to reply to her message, even before hitting the Omega-4 relay. It bothered him that he had not yet replied, as he did not want to make it seem like he was ignoring her. Even as he thought about it, another version of the reply he had been working on started to drift through his mind. Deciding to set it down for once and for all while it was still fresh in his mind; Shepard began to type, fingers picking out the keys on the haptic interface slowly and hesitantly:

"Dearest Ashley

I am so sorry I haven't replied back to you before now. I know this sounds like a typical pathetic excuse, but I have been so insanely busy. Added to the fact that I can never seem to write down what I'm truly thinking and feeling and you have a recipe for a terribly delayed reply.

I hope this message finds you doing well, wherever you are right now, doing whatever it is you may be doing right now. I am doing well, all things considered, but there are many things I've yet to truly sit down and think about, to absorb and understand. I've gone where no one has gone before, but there is a lot I truly don't understand.

Horizon had to be one of the worst moments in my life. Without a doubt, I acted like a fool, I felt like a fool, hell I WAS a fool. I let my frustration, anger and exhaustion get the better of me, and look at what happened as a result. I have not seen you so angry since the early days when we met on Eden Prime, and all I did was to try and convince you that Cerberus wasn't the enemy of the moment. It was a stupid thing to try and do. Even though I didn't get the chance to fully explain myself, I don't think it would have mattered. What you said was the truth. I've always appreciated the fact that you speak your mind and state the facts as is.

I cannot begin to tell you how relieved I was to see you safe and sound on Horizon after the Collectors left. It was the wrong moment in the wrong place, but my heart nearly stopped at seeing you again after these two years. For me it had been a few months since the Normandy SR-1 went down and everything went to hell and back. I never stopped to think that it was slightly over two years for you. My heart soared to see you, but I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for you to see me again. When we hugged, for those brief few moments, the entire universe felt right again.

There is a lot more I want to say to you, but I think it needs to be done face to face. You deserve as much. I am hoping you would consider meeting me for dinner on the Presidium, where we could talk as long as you wanted. You can ask any question at all, and I will answer as best as I can. I will withhold nothing. I will be on the Citadel in two days time, I asked Joker to take it slow with the ship (long story.) If you agree to meet, meet me at the relay monument at 7pm on Friday evening. If you are busy on a mission or don't want to meet, I can understand that. Just let me know either way, that's all I ask.

Yours always,

-Skipper"

Shepard frowned at the message in front of him. The spelling was fine, and the letter conveyed all his points, yet he still felt it missed something. He was about to start editing the letter when he heard a noise outside his door. Evidently, Miranda had arrived. Craig saved the message to his drafts folder and shut the terminal off. Rising from his chair, he moved over to open the door to his cabin.

Shepard smiled as the door opened to reveal his XO, one hand raised as if to knock or use the haptic interface on the door. Miranda's face looked slightly surprised, as if not expecting the door to open on its own like that.

"Miranda, thank you for coming so quickly. Would you care to step inside? I have some matters to discuss with you," Shepard asked his XO.

"Sure Commander. You know, this makes a nice change from you visiting my office the whole time," Miranda drawled, amusement clear on her flawless face.

"After you," Shepard said, standing to one side and motioning with his arm. Miranda crossed the threshold and stepped into the captain's cabin for the first time since the ship had been built.