Note: If this looks familiar, it's because I had it uploaded previously. Due to a long boring story that I won't bother to recount, I ended up temporarily deleting some of my things and am now going through the process of adding them to the account again.
Shepard leaned idly against the hard plated wall of Rodam Expeditions, smiling in amusement at the intensity with which Garrus browsed the catalogues. He was pretty damn serious when it came to his weapons, though not even close to being on the same level as Zaeed. She was fairly certain that Zaeed's love for his rifle, Jessie, was...unhealthy. And unnatural.
The door whooshed open and Shepard walked in, her Cerberus issue boots thudding heavily on the floor. She stopped suddenly. The lights were off; she couldn't see a blasted thing.
"Zaeed?"
A small groan from near the crates; the sound of someone stumbling to get up. A...zipper? Shepard considered simply walking back out. It was unlikely that she wanted to be party to anything happening here. Still, she needed Zaeed's opinion on the last mission, and if he happened to be in the middle of something embarrassing, it was his own damn fault for not locking the door.
"EDI! Lights!"
The room was bathed in stark white light. Shepard winced at the abrupt change, squinting to protect her eyes, and glanced around for Zaeed. He was standing in his usual corner-shirtless- and cradling Jessie close.
"Shepard. I was just thinking about you." Zaeed nodded at her, as this were a completely normal situation that she should accept immediately and not bother with the hassle of asking any prying questions.
Shepard disregarded that, plunging forward into a conversation that she knew full well would probably end with her discovering an entirely new shade of red. Or maybe just an entirely new shade; her glowing scars would probably have an interesting effect.
"What, exactly, were you doing with the lights off? "
Zaeed gazed down at Jessie, then stared at Shepard.
"Polishing my rifle."
She blinked and cocked her head slightly to the right.
"With the lights off?"
His mismatched eyes bored unnervingly into hers, challenging her to question his next words.
"Yep. Givin' it the old spit shine."
Shepard couldn't help it. Her eyes flicked downward. She quickly refocused them on his face, heat surging into her cheeks and painting them a glaring tomato red.
Sensing her discomfort, Zaeed locked his eyes onto her own and drawled, "Giving it the old spit shine. I sure as hell wouldn't mind a little help."
She took one baby step back, then another, each of the tiny motions bringing her closer to the very welcome exit.
"I'll...uh...I have to go see Yeoman Chambers. She-she wanted to talk to me. Said something about...dog shelters We'll talk later."
Shepard left the room hastily, the door locking behind her. She could get his opinion later. Or never. It didn't seem all that important anymore. As she strode to the elevator, Zaeed's words rang loud in her mind. 'I was just thinking about you.'
Garrus turned to her expectantly.
"Done, Shepard. Ready to head back to the Normandy?"
Shepard heaved herself away from the wall, grateful for his timely interruption of her thoughts.
"Hell yes."
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