DISCLAIMER: I own 'le zilch'.

Shifting uncomfortably about on his armoured feet, eyes flicking backwards and forwards to the front of him, James thought to himself that you could very well cut the tension in the rapidly decompressing air with a knife.

Before him, Commander Shepard of the SSV Normandy – Alliance regulation, lamentably without the expensive leather chairs her pilot had come to covet – stood stock straight, her back doing an excellent impression of a steel ram-rod as her head pointed immediately forwards, unmoving. On her left, just across from James, stood Staff Commander Alenko, a well-documented, far-flung crewmate of Shepard's from way back when – 'way back when I wasn't a goddamned terrorist', Shepard had darkly explained to him one night when they were sitting in her cell on Earth, poker game long ago abandoned in favour of James listening intently to the awe-inspiring tales that passed her alcohol-loosened lips – who looked similarly tense, perhaps even more so if that were possible.

Feeling very much like he was the unwilling third wheel to what should have been an intensely private moment, it was all James could do to try and look away from the two of them, paying no heed to the distinctly taut atmosphere. It looked as though no-one would ever say anything, both parties refusing to speak for some purpose entirely unknown to him, leaving them to do nothing but just stand there, completely silent but for the hiss of the recycled, cloying air rushing into the industrial filters.

Eventually, hearing the inappropriately cheerful chirp that indicated they could all remove their helmets, James immediately set to ripping off the latches attaching his own to his armour, desperately grateful for something to do. The elevator started to move as Shepard swiftly flung her head back from the confines of her own headgear, holding her visor firmly in its place as she shifted about, hair sticking to her skin with the suffocating heat of Mars pressing down on them. With considerably less flare, Commander Alenko did the same, stiffly pulling the separated piece of armour away from himself, awkwardly bringing it down to rest at his side, his hand pulsating with lingering biotic power as it clenched tightly on the blast-absorbing deflective material. The shuffling of their bodies as they arranged themselves soon died down again, however, and they were once more left in an even more painful – for James, at least – silence.

Finding it growing too much, hearing a bead of sweat falling from his temple to drip down onto his stocky chestplate with a soft patter that seemed to torment him all the more with the passing seconds, James gathered up his balls and attempted to make conversation with the two legendary soldiers before him, voice nearly cracking in a forced attempt at levity, "So, uh, Shepard, how are y–?"

Instantly, Shepard took the moment to whip around to her left, hand coming forward to stab the air as she ground out intensely, "–If you have something to say, Kaidan, say it."

There was a deeply tense silence. Alenko stared at her, not saying a word, utterly mute. James stood to the back of them, mouth still gaping open, words dying on his lips, hand falling.

"You're still with them."

James shut his mouth.

Shepard's eyes sharpened all the more, her lips becoming a thin line, shoulders twitching up. By now, Alenko had turned fully around to face her, expression dark and steady, assured, waiting for her response. Finally, just when James thought Shepard was about to headbutt the man like he had heard she was prone to do, readying himself to fail in an attempt to pull the ferocious woman off of her defiant charge, she ground out so lowly that he had to strain his ears to the limits to pick up any of it, "No. No, I'm not."

Snapping, Alenko scowled, stepping forward, "Don't lie to me, Shepard – it's obvious that there's something going on here," his scowl deepened, "You're in bed with the enemy."

A bitter laugh rang around the suddenly far too small elevator, and James flinched at the sound, massive shoulders coming back as he subconsciously edged himself away from them, pressing himself tightly into the corner, eyes unable to move away despite how much he wanted them to. Shepard's lips pulled up into a harsh sneer unlike any expression he'd ever seen her wear, as she spat out, blunt, "Yes, well, I can assure you, Kaidan, that if anybody got screwed around here, it was most definitely me," James' brow flew up, "or did you not notice the fact that I died?"

Jumping back into the conversation, Alenko moved in on her, "That's just it, isn't it – you died, Shepard," Shepard's lips twisted further, "You died. You got blown to hell, turned to ash-"

Gaze narrowing, Shepard cut him off, "—I'm aware."

Halting for a moment, Alenko frowned heavily as he stopped before her, his gesturing arms falling to his sides. Finally, after the endless silence, he spoke again, voice lower than it had been but maintaining its sharp edge, "Earth gets invaded and then we get sent off to Mars just as Cerberus attack, just too late to stop them getting in and grabbing the data the Alliance needs. You were with them a only a few months ago. The Alliance left you to the dogs after the Batarian government put a bounty on your head. Cerberus brought you back from the brink, they saved your life, gave you the Normandy and your crew – you, of all people, would feel like you owe them something. It seems likely that you might want to-"

He stopped, looking away. Shepard stared at him, eyes steadily boring into his turned away face. James stood at the back of them still, frozen into inertia by the intense, unwanted feeling of being caught in something that he had no business whatsoever in being caught in.

Eventually, just when it looked like Kaidan might just shut his mouth and get back to what they came here to do, back to the mission that everyone was counting on them to get done to protect the entire galaxy against destruction from a force so goddamn terrifyingly way out of their league, his voice abruptly came back, strained, "You were gone for two years," he shook his head, letting loose a deep breath, "Two years. Not – minutes – or hours – or months – years." He stopped again for a moment, his expression now decidedly less certain in what it was trying to convey, his eyes finally flickering back up to Shepard, "What did you expect me to do when I saw you again? Trust you – when you were with Cerberus, the people who killed so many of our friends?"

"Yes."

Kaidan stopped. There was a long pause with Shepard nodding steadily, assuredly, standing stock still where she was, not breaking eye contact for even a moment. The tension of the whole explosion was pulled tighter than before, pushing all of their muscles into an instinctual strain with the pressure of the moment. It seemed like they would remain there forever, unspeaking, unmoving, separated from the rest of the world.

Then, taking a deep breath, low and forced, Shepard spoke, "That's what I expected you to do. Trust me. Like a friend trusts a friend, or a husband trusts a wife."

Another pause.

"...I expected it."

The silence was now all-encompassing, the intelligible click of metal sliding in the background accompanied only by James' still defiantly insistent bead of sweat dripping with painful slowness. The air seemed to have been sucked out of the space, leaving them all standing in a boiling stove of things brought to the forefront after so long a time of being left unsaid. Kaidan stared at her, wordless for an entirely different reason this time, his eyes wide, his gaze dented. Slowly, painfully slowly, he opened his mouth, shut it, opened it again, and croaked out softly, "Shepard…I-"

The elevator beeped, the doors hissing again as the metal box ground to a halt, signalling that they were finally there. James looked away for just a second to see ahead of them before turning back, and found Shepard had turned away, gun swiftly pulled out, her helmet pushed away. Kaidan stood frozen, unmoving, mouth still lying open as his gaze remained stuck where it was. The sounds of guns firing echoed down the long corridors ahead, far off screams coming to sudden ends, the thick odour of blood washing over James' senses and bringing the world abruptly crashing back in on the microcosm of the past 5 minutes. Pulling his own weapon out, pushing aside his discomfort to come back to the dangerous, unknown present they were about to launch into, he heard Kaidan slowly do the same next to him.

There were a few seconds of uncertainty, trepidation hitching their muscles as they wondered whether or not if she would say something before they left, if she would even acknowledge what had been said. They waited.

Then, without glancing behind her, Shepard walked forward, and they moved out.

Just got a little idea in my head whilst writing the new chap of my Walking Dead fic, Something to Rely On. :P It's turned out differently to my original idea, where I was going to have more dark humour and James interaction, maybe defending Shepard a bit...turned out considerably more serious, haha. Hope you liked it!

Drop me a review if you have a mo, and feel free to peruse my other wares! :L