A/N: I've had this sitting in my drive for years. Since ME tore my heart out and stomped all over it, and since there is a woeful lack of happy Shrios stories, I decided to make a contribution. I have no excuse other than I refuse to accept Thane's death. None at all.

disclaimer: disclaimed. I'm a broke college student with $7 to my name, currently eating microwaved ramen. Obviously I made no money.

Commander Cassandra Shepard was many things: stubborn, passionate, fiercely intelligent, courageous to the point of stupidity, and fantastically blunt in how she dealt with her and everybody else's problems. She was also prone to lying, on occasion, and maybe perhaps a dash of hypocrisy when the situation called for it, but you'd be hard-pressed to find any sentient species, anywhere, on whatever planet, that would call her a coward.

Mordin, however, knew her dirty little secret. It was by complete accident, of course-Shepard would never have divulged such vital and scandalous information even under penalty of death, he was sure. But, as it happened, when the illustrious, unflappable and totally high as a kite Commander had been ushered into his lab by one Mr. Thane Krios, who looked torn between amusement and embarrassment as he steered her by her shoulders, she hadn't exactly been in her right mind.

Thane had tried to apologize. "Dr. Solus," he began, "It appears-"

"She ignored my advice, yes. Obviously. Not surprising; humans are proud species. Likely thought I was mocking."

Shepard had a rather stupid grin plastered all over her face. Her pupils were blown impossibly wide, her cheeks were flushed pink, and Mordin could see a thin sheen of sweat shining on her forehead. They must have been very invested in their moment indeed, he had thought. She'd clearly heard the part where he'd told her to enjoy herself. Everything else must have floated in one funny little human ear and right out the other.

"Mordin!" Shepard had declared, and the salarian was rather impressed her speech was not slurred. "Fancy meeting you here. Did I forget an exam or something?" Her face became pinched with concern. "Thane, did I have an appointment?"

"Something like that."

"A-ha! See? He's such a gentleman!" She turned back to the doctor, who was trying very hard to appear completely professional. "Isn't he a gentleman, Mordin? And an assassin, too! I bet you didn't know that."

"Quite so, Shepard."

"Don't worry; he won't kill you. I promise. Right, Thane?"

"Yes, Siha." The drell shot a panicked look over her head at the professor, who could not entirely smother his smug smirk. Mordin was clearly enjoying this situation, and Thane would not have been surprised whatsoever if the salarian had somehow recorded the entire thing for his own personal amusement. Or blackmail. Research, maybe. He might even distribute it to the crew. Thane could hear it now: "Only meant to boost morale, Mr. Krios. Low-survival odds known to cause depression, anxiety. Might make mistakes in field. Only looking out for crew, you understand."

As it were, when the drell had looked back at Mordin, the salarian had hidden his face behind a medical chart and was-pretending to, he suspected-scribbling furiously. "No need to linger, Sere Krios. Can take care of this problem; simple solution, very simple. All she needs is anti-psychotropic and immuno boost injection in-"

"In my you know where!" Shepard had howled.

Thane had not needed to be told twice. He whirled on his heel and beat a hasty retreat, fleeing the clinic as quickly as he possibly could without appearing rude. Mordin bit back his snort, turning to the Commander, who was still smiling to herself and swinging her legs as she perched on the edge of one of his steel tables, humming loudly and completely off key. He felt an eye twitch.

She had chattered absolutely incessantly as he gathered his materials, and not always at him; she talked to the walls, her own feet, and once addressed an overhead light as 'Overlord.' The salarian had been unable to keep his chuckles to himself, and he may or may not have gone more slowly than was strictly necessary. Mordin fully intended to milk this for all it was worth; he felt almost absurdly privileged, if a little vindictive, at seeing Shepard so completely undone. He knew he was too old and evolved for 'I told you sos,' but he was certainly not too old for humor. Even so, if a transcribed message of this encounter appeared in her private terminal a week from now, well. He was pretty certain she'd be a little more careful next time on who she tuned out.

Mordin had had his back to her, filling a rather impressive syringe with the necessary meds, when she had blurted it out. For a moment he had thought his translator had glitched, before he remembered, logically, it was statistically impossible for any organic species to be completely without fear. Even so, he had seen this woman bully a tank-bred krogan, created to embody perfection, into mopping up the mess-hall after throwing Jacob through a table.

"Apologies, Commander, was not listening. Would appreciate it if you would repeat that."

"'I didn't know salarians had a third horn growing out their ass.'"

Mordin blinked, completely thrown. "Before that."

Shepard had looked thoughtful for a moment, before saying it again. No, he had not make a mistake. Foolish of him to think otherwise; he was the very model of a scientist salarian, after all.

An idea began to take shape in his mind as the professor gave Cassandra her shot (in her arm, on the inside of her elbow, decidedly not where she had suggested) and informed Thane the effects would wear off soon. The potency of her inebriation would likely fog her memory; he had a very good chance of her not remembering anything at all. Excellent.

Perhaps he was a bit old for 'I told you so's.' But one was never too old for a good prank. Especially if that prank was designed to coerce a patient into listening to their intellectually superior doctor's distinct instructions to not lick their drell lover without proper preparation.

So, when Shepard had come crashing down off her high, hideously cranky and sporting a monster of a headache, and had been lead out of his lab by Thane, Mordin instructed EDI to lock the door behind them. He had research to do.

"THANE!"

The unholy shriek came shrilling through his comm so suddenly Thane Krios nearly fired his Mantis through the Life Support window, he jerked so badly. The rag and small bottle of gun grease near his elbow went flying. The comm was actually crackling from the sheer pitch of what sounded like an impaled banshee, and his ears were ringing. It kind of hurt, really.

"THANE!"

"What the hell, Shepard!" He snapped back, irked that he had still jumped after the second one, which was even louder and more high-pitched than the first. "Unless you want a bullet through the drive core, I would recommend you lower your voice. Please."

"Sorry," she croaked, not sounding sorry at all. "Oh my God. Oh my God." Thane squinted in confusion as he heard her loud stampeding footsteps and the slam of a door. "Thane, Thane. Please get up here. Right now."

She actually sounded on the verge of tears. He had a feeling he should be a little more sympathetic, but his head was still throbbing from her very sudden and unwelcome screaming in his ear. "Siha? Is something the matter?" He collapsed the Mantis and left it on the table, heading out of Life Support and toward the elevator. "You are not hurt, are you?"

There was no response for several long moments and he had begun to grow seriously concerned before she whispered back, "Uh, no. No, I'm fine. Just-" She swallowed. "Please hurry." And then she whimpered.

Cassandra Shepard was whimpering.

Well. That was new. Not completely, actually, but that wasn't the point.

As always, the elevator was infuriatingly slow (you'd think a top-of-the-line vessel like the Normandy would have faster lifts, but apparently the Illusive Man was too cheap for that), and Thane spent the majority of the ride tapping his foot and worrying himself into a frenzy. There were all manner of things that could have gone wrong; they had just docked at the Citadel not two days ago. Someone could have snuck on board while the crew was on shore leave and caught Cassandra at her most vulnerable. Her meal or drink could have been dosed and she might be convulsing in death throes right this very moment. Maybe it was mutiny; he'd never liked the way Jacob looked at her. He'd come to expect the worst with Shepard; she had the rottenest luck he'd ever seen.

So when he reached her (their?) cabin, EDI opening the door without being asked, he was relatively surprised to find everything calm and in its place. There was no blood, no broken furniture or glass, no smell of spent heat-sinks or death. The room was a bit more humid than normal-Shepard had modified the atmosphere in her room to make him more comfortable-and when his eyes continued to flick to and fro, scanning for threats or evidence of a crime, he found wet footprints in the living space.

And Shepard standing on the bed, wrapped in a towel, dripping wet, brandishing her pistol at the bathroom door.

"...Siha?" Thane said, taken aback for a moment before hurrying over to her. She looked fine, standing straight and tall with no evidence of injury, but he still ran his hands over her just to be safe. "Have you been attacked? Threatened?" He tried to tug her down to his level but she resisted. "What happened?"

"In the bathroom," she rasped, not taking her eyes off the door. "They're in the bathroom." Her hands were shaking, and she was white as the sheets.

She's afraid, he realized. The thought was chilling.

Flicking the safety off his own handgun, Thane advanced toward the closed door, his footsteps light and silent. He controlled his movements, gliding smoothly so his leathers wouldn't creak, and took three deep breaths, one for each of his gods. His soul clear and calm, his body ready, he burst into the washroom, scanning the corners quickly and leading with his gun.

It was empty.

"Shepard," he called, more than a little annoyed she had blown his eardrums out for nothing. "I do not see anything."

"What?" she answered, breathlessly. "No, they're in there. I saw them. On the mirror."

Thane heaved an exasperated sigh and turned to stare at the mirror. And froze.

There were three...creatures, the largest about the size of his face and the smallest his hand, staring at him with lots of beady little eyes. They were ugly and hairy and dark, with noticeable fangs and eight legs each. He had never seen anything like them before; they were kind of disturbing to look at, actually.

"Ah," the drell began, "What am I looking at, Siha? Are they animals?" He took a curious step forward. The things on the glass did not move an inch, black eyes unblinking. Peculiar.

"They're spiders!" Shepard wailed, sounding like she was fit to burst into tears at any second. "Kill them, kill them this instant! I hate spiders!"

"Spider," his translator helpfully supplied, "An Earth arachnid of the order Araneae, most of which spin webs that serve as nests and as traps for prey, which include insects, small rodents, and birds." There was a slight pause. "Common phobia among human females."

Thane actually had to bite his tongue. Again, he took several deep breaths, this time to drive the amusement out of his voice lest she shoot him, before he said, "Shepard. They appear harmless."

"Thane Krios. If you tell me to let them go, I will feed you to the big one. Kill. Them. Now."

"Your threat implies you are willing to be near them, Siha. I think otherwise." He paused to think for a moment. "Also, I am not entirely sure how. They are too…large, to crush."

"Shoot them!" she screeched.

"And shatter your mirror? I was under the impression you liked a clean and orderly bathroom." He'd learned that lesson the hard way. He left his socks behind one time-

"Gas them, throw things, drown them in the shower! I don't care! Just get them out of there!"

The drell shook his head and tried to lose his smirk without much success. Resigning himself to a cold and lonely night in Life Support, he walked out of the room and back toward the hysterical woman on the bed. She had sat down and was clutching a pillow, her hair drying and curling around her neck. Mechanical green eyes, backlit by cybernetics, glared at him accusingly, and he could not stop his rumbling chuckle.

"Don't laugh at me!" Shepard snapped. "This is not funny, Krios!"

"On the contrary, Siha, I find it very amusing. They are merely animals, hardly a threat at all. Why are you so afraid?"

"I am not scared!" Cassandra huffed, squeezing her pillow tighter against her chest. "I'm just...disgusted. They are hideous little things with way too many eyes and legs and they move way too suddenly with no warning at all."

Thane smirked again. "So if I told you I was holding the smallest, you would not throw yourself into the fish tank?"

Shepard paled. "You wouldn't dare."

Thane held out a hand, where indeed the smallest spider was clinging to his sleeve. It was a very interesting creature; the tiny hairs on its many legs were deceptively coarse, and it moved its two forelegs continually as it felt his alien scales. It made no move to bite him.

Shepard shrieked so loudly he was fairly certain a circuit fried in his translator. She leapt off their bed in a truly amazing show of acrobatics and launched herself toward her desk chair. It having wheels, it shot backward as soon as she landed and crashed into the fish tank, but Cassandra held on all the same, red hair wild and her eyes so wide he half expected them to fall right out of their sockets.

"I'm going to kill you!" She bellowed, and he would have been much more intimidated if she weren't desperately trying to keep her towel in place. "I am going to skin you alive and make myself a new pair of shoes, you asshole!"

Thane couldn't reign in his laughter enough to give a proper response, all the while feeling her burning holes through his face with the force of her Shepard Scowl. "Shepard," he wheezed, "Cassandra. I apologize, truly, but-"

"But nothing!" she snapped. "You are never allowed back in this room ever again! Now squish it!"

"I am lacking in motivation," he told her through his chortles. Ah, but he hadn't laughed like this in years. "You just kicked me out. Perhaps we can strike a bargain, Siha."

"You can't call me that anymore," she growled, watching his hand with muscles tensed and huge eyes. "Your Siha privileges have been revoked."

"You are not helping yourself." The spider scuttled into his open palm. It barely fit.

Shepard actually shuddered as she watched it. She made no move to say anything.

"Do not forget about the two others still on your mirror."

"Oh my God," she moaned, curling herself into as tight a ball as she could. "Fine. Kill it-them, and you can move back in."

The assassin smirked. "I agree to your terms." And he clenched his fist.

The spider crunched.

Cassandra went from looking like she was about to cry to looking like she was about to puke in about two seconds. "Holy crap," she groaned, hiding her face against her knees. "Holy crap, dammit. Dammit, Thane. That was the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. Or heard."

"You were showering to wash merc organs out of your hair," he deadpanned. He brushed the spider guts off his hand on the back of his pants.

Shepard's only response was to glare ferociously at him.

Suddenly, her omni-tool pinged. Shepard stared at it in confusion for a moment before opening up her messages. "It's a vid call," she told him, "From Mordin." She looked up at him, eyebrow quirked in what he had come to recognize as a questioning expression. He shrugged, a gesture she had explained meant befuddlement.

Cassandra looked back at her 'tool and opened the message. Immediately, her brow furrowed, and Thane wandered over to hear what the salarian professor was saying. Mordin was looking absolutely diabolical, with a small smug smirk on his face.

"...your situation," the salarian was saying. "Was informed by EDI immediately. Very helpful for AI, very helpful. Has been relaying your exchange to me; most fascinating!"

"...what."

"Have read about spiders on extranet; intriguing arachnids, very common and can survive under many various circumstances. Did not have to look far on Citadel to find them, though EDI did not wish to allow them onto ship. Told her concerns were unfounded; wished to study commander. Harmless research, very harmless."

"Mordin," Shepard whispered, a dawning look of horror on her face. "Are you telling me you put these spiders in my room?"

"Told you to be careful, Shepard. Drell/Human liaisons complex; prolonged exposure known to cause hallucinations, serious ones if not careful. You did not listen, so made sure you would in the future." The salarian blinked innocently up at her. "Was only looking out for you, Commander."

Shepard turned very slowly to stare at Thane, who was trying his absolute best to appear completely neutral. "I am going to space him," she told him very seriously. "I am going to put my clothes on and then pack him in the airlock and space him."

"Results highly amusing, Shepard," Mordin continued, as if he hadn't heard. "Think rest of crew would think so, as well."

"Oh no you don't!" Cassandra said. "Two can play at that game, Professor."

She turned to the drell, who was still watching in silent amusement. "Hey Thane, did you know Mordin can sing?"