A/N Hey guys! This was originally posted at Archive of Our Own, but I thought since it fit's within 's guidelines it wouldn't hurt to repost it here. There will be a oneshot fic that's an Archive exclusive coming up though, so if you're into lemons, you might want to check out my archive there. This is mostly flirting and my idea of what happened between James and Shepard during her internment just before Mass Effect 3.

"I've got a new assignment for you, Lieutenant." Admiral Anderson turned around in his chair, facing James Vega from across the desk.

"I'm…honored sir, but why me?" James chose his word carefully. Anderson's use of titles was probably a good sign. After all the shit he had done, the promotion still didn't seem real. He was expecting to be relieved of duty at best. Dishonorably discharged at worst. Dios tarda, pero no olvida.

The Admiral brandished a datapad. "Don't get too excited," A smile glimmered in his eyes. "For all you know, I could be assigning you to latrine duty for the duration of your next tour."

James chuckled. "A bright new line for my service record. Can't wait. They give medals for that, right? Sparkling porcelain in spite of great hardship?"

Anderson dropped the datapad on the desk where James could read it. "I'm afraid it's a little more delicate than that."

"Guard duty?" James scrambled for words, doing his best to remember his place in spite of the absurdity. "I…I mean no offense sir, but I'm a marine, not a baby sitter."

Right then James swore he caught the admiral smirking down at him. "Keep reading, Lieutenant Vega. I'll trust that you'll find this assignment much suited to your talents."

The admiral had to be kidding. It wasn't even in space. Anderson wanted him to remain here in Vancouver, guarding a well known detainee under house arrest for the duration of their trial. Vega knew his promotion was a joke. This was proof—

And then he saw her picture, and his jaw dropped. "Wait." James looked up at Anderson, wide eyed. "You want me to guard Commander Shepard? The Commander Shepard?"

Anderson sighed. "I doubt she'll remain a commander for long." He looked down at the datapad as if it held her obituary. "Not with everything's she's done."

"She saved the galaxy. Dios mio. Is that how we treat our heroes these days?"

"You'll be her guard, not her attorney." Anderson laughed humorlessly. "I know it doesn't sound like much, but we'll need you to stay vigilant." His gaze burned like the shadows of the sun, as his voice dipped low. "There's a lot we don't know about Shepard since she supposedly rose from the dead. She's charming. Vicious. Cunning. Resourceful."

James remembered the vids of Shepard rising from the rubble in the presidium after the Battle of the Citadel. With her arm and ribs broken in three places and a huge smile on her face, like she had just eaten cocadas on the beach.

"We'll be watching you both very closely. Succeed at keeping her out of trouble and you just might get yourself a commendation, Lieutenant."

"It's…certainly an honor sir, but why a babysi—guard? If you have cameras?"

Anderson shook his head. "Anyone who's been around long enough knows that security cameras can be hacked, video feeds looped. Recent reports show Shepard's got friends and enemies in dark places. We don't want to be giving them any opportunities. We need someone we can trust." Standing up, Anderson shook his head. "Someone willing to make hard choices, even in the small things." The admiral smirked. "Even when it comes to fraternization regulations. That someone is you, Vega."

Vega shook his head. That was a legitimate concern? Sure, he had heard stories, the same as everyone else in the mess hall, but he'd figured most of them had been exaggerated. He gave his salute. "Sir, yes sir."

Anderson saluted in turn. "Be careful, Vega. She might not be the hero you remember."