The selfless idiot was gonna kill himself before the Reapers did. And boy, wouldn't that piss off those sons-of-bitches, because if there was anyone they wanted to end on their own terms, it was him. Ashley leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms as she took in Judas' appearance. He looked haggard and old, his back tense and tight under his fatigues and his hands clenching the desk. She wished she could take it all away, just help him forget about Reapers and the end of the world as they knew it…but pointless wishing had never really gotten her anywhere, and she knew he didn't believe in it.

She'd come because she needed to see him, and she knew that, even if he wouldn't admit it, he needed to see her, too. Judas gave an exhausted sigh and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, then looked up as she walked over to lean next to him.

"Everything's ready, Shepard."

"What about you? Are you ready?"

"Let's get it done…and go home." For her, that meant Amaterasu, and Lynn and Abby and Sarah and Mom, and possibly homemade soup, with a night of terrible alcohol. For Shepard…well, she was more than happy to extend the invitation to him, and she was sure the girls wouldn't mind having him around.

But her answer annoyed him for some reason; as she watched, the edges of him seemed to fray like an old rug. "We're not getting off that easy, Ash."

She resorted to her usual response at this—humor. "No. Are we looking at a rough ride?" she asked, chuckling and taking a seat on the desk.

His jaw tensed and the scar along his cheekbone twitched, telltale signs of anger. "Ash. I get what you're trying to do." he snapped, starting to walk off and leaving her no choice but to follow.

"Hey! No brushing me off." And also as usual, humor wasn't the best response—she reverted back to seriousness. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

Judas was quiet for a moment, staring at the floor. "I'm not brushing you off. I'm just thinking of everyone we've lost fighting this war." He reached for her hand with both of his, the motion almost careful.

"I understand. Man, do I ever." She brought up her free hand to hold his. "You know, I was lost without you, Shepard. When I thought you were dead, it…broke my heart. And then you found your way back. It was a miracle. Screw the science, it was a damn miracle." She felt her voice shaking.

"I couldn't do this without you, Ashley. I'm sane enough to know when I've stumbled across a good thing." he began, and she could tell from his voice he was lapsing into sappy romance, something he harbored an adorable love for.

"You don't…have to say anything, Shepard."

His response was abrupt. "No, I do." He reached over, gently holding her chin in his fingers; her eyes met his without her permission. "I love you."

"I doubted you once, Shepard, and I lost you. That's not happening again." Even if I have to take a thousand bullets to keep that promise. "Just shut up and kiss me."

She'd love to say he was a fervent lover, but that wasn't true. But it also wasn't a lie. He matched her, in his rises and falls, his passions and his tenderness. When she was shy and careful, her inner fire reduced to embers from the anticipation of pleasure, he was blunt, giving without hesitation to throw her over the precipice. When he was gasping for breath and barely capable of coherent thought, silent pleas and prayers slipping from his lips, she was burning and insatiable, demanding more, more reactions and more desire as they neared the top of the mountain they climbed. And when they'd both go toppling off, drowning in bliss, her with a gasp as she raked her back with his nails and him with the smallest of grunts, digging his hands into the sheets, they were the same.

When she woke up, she was almost sad. The few times they'd made love, she was used to waking up with the warm weight of his arm around her, keeping her close, but that was absent this time. It was only when she rolled over that she realized that he hadn't in fact left the room. Again, his back was tense as he sat up, rising and falling with his measured breathing.

"Hey. You okay?"

His voice was hoarse. "Having trouble sleeping, I guess."

She had to force a smile; it was amazing how quickly the gravity of their situation was forced back upon them. "I'm surprised you slept at all with…everything going on." She knew she hadn't—she'd only gotten maybe three, four hours of sheep-tallying before her internal Marine clock had forced her to wake up.

"Yeah, you're right. Just…jitters, I guess." He sighed and every sound and word from him broke her heart, as she listened to the tiredness and fractures. His ability to lie, his ability to put on a braver face that anyone she knew, even after the vulnerability they had shared sleeping together, floored her completely.

"'Just jitters,' he says. You amaze me." It was the best way she could think of to articulate the depth of her feelings for him, how far she would go to keep him from feeling pain, how much she cared for him and wanted to see him happy.

"What?"

"Nothing." She smiled. "I love you."

"You being here, with me…it means everything."

She would never understand why his little declarations still made her turn pink. "Shepard…"

"Shh." He kissed her, just once, so gently it almost became painful. "I love you." And with that he climbed out of bed, and away from her.