Author's Note: I started writing Shega for a friend who has done more positive things for me than most people in my life combined. Vorchagirl is, putting it simply, one of the best people I know. This is for her, because she had a rough day the other day and there isn't much I can do considering I live on the other side of the world.

Vorchagirl, you're amazing.

Now, enjoy some Shega smut. - TLC

Yours.

James' hands shook slightly as he undid his tie for the fourth time before tugging it off and tossing it into the closet. He groaned, and scrubbed his hands over his face before undoing the top few buttons of his dress shirt. "Get it together, pendejo," he cursed himself, glaring at the man in the mirror. He'd faced down a lot of tough moments; the arrival of the Reapers, the night Shepard had kissed him, searching for her after the Crucible was fired, helping her recover physically, and meeting her mother were just a few on a very long list. Yet, none of them compared to this moment.

He had come to realize over the last few weeks that Aria was in a much better place now than she had been when the war ended. They had been living together for a few years, and they had a pretty solid routine. She was doing very well with her emotional recovery, and his own desires for more started to nag at the back of his mind. He wanted everything with her. He wanted to commit to her before their family, friends, and God. He wanted to change her last name – or at least offer her his. He wanted to watch her grow round with his child. He wanted to meet their baby; he hoped they'd look like her.

He sighed. He liked to think she had healed enough to accept his hand. It sure seemed to him like she had. Her therapist was even down to meetings just every other month. She still had nightmares, on occasion, but her struggles post-war weren't daily anymore. Retiring from active duty and focusing on teaching really helped her.

That's where she was tonight. She was out with her xenolinguistics class seeing the new Elcor production of Hamlet. James had plans tonight, too. Plans that had his stomach in knots and a sheen of sweat between his shirt and skin. He sprayed a light dusting of cologne over his chest before turning on a heel and heading towards the door.

He hopped on rapid transit and grabbed a seat. He was meeting her at the restaurant. If he was honest, the last time he was this nervous, he was meeting Hannah Shepard for the first time. He had never expected Aria to be traditional, but he had heard her speaking with Tali about the old custom of a suitor asking the father's permission to marry their daughter. It was antiquated, and James almost laughed, until Aria commented that there was something sweet about it. About the man seeking approval more than permission. An understanding that the parents are giving up their responsibility to care for and nurture their child, their daughter, to the man who was asking.

He had no idea what Hannah's reaction would be, but he knew it was a conversation they needed to have. Which is why he was meeting her for dinner at her favorite Asari restaurant on the Citadel. He thought about their interactions since first meeting and he'd been fairly confident she approved of him. They got on well, they had their own inside jokes; at times, he even felt like he was already family. This would solidify that. He rubbed is hands on his pants as they reached his stop.

He looked at the sign above the door and swallowed hard before he entered. He was early, which he knew she would appreciate. The hostess took him to his table, and he ordered an appropriate bottle of wine. He took a long drink of water as he waited, his eyes darting around the room and his leg tapping to an inconsistent rhythm.

"Vega," he heard her approach from behind and nearly sprayed his mouthful of water over the table. He covered his mouth with a free hand as he stood. He swallowed before leaning over and greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. He pulled out her chair and then joined her as the waiter brought over the wine.

Their conversation was light, easy even, as they made their way through their courses. It was as they finished their main course that Hannah looked up to him, sculpted eyebrow cocked and her hands folded beneath her chin. "James, why did you invite me out tonight?"

James cleared his throat, looking at her over the wine glass as he emptied it. "Well, it's … it's simple really," he started and Hannah shifted, leaning back and crossing her legs. "You know Aria is my world." Hannah nodded. "I never thought I would be in this position. I never thought I would find someone whose happiness meant more to me than anything else. I never thought, knowing Aria, that she would have expected this but … Admiral Shepard, I am in love with your daughter. I want to be her husband. I want to start a family with her. Before I would even consider asking her, I would like to know that you approve."

Hannah stared at him, her face completely stone still and void of any reaction. She stared for a long time. James felt the trickle of nervous sweat as it raced down his temple and into the scruff on his cheek. His shirt seemed too tight, and damp as he sat under her scrutiny. She sighed, reaching out and toying with the stem of her wine glass. It scratched on the table as the glass turned in its spot. "And if I say no?"

James nearly vomited, he swallowed it down before he answered. "Well, I would ask what I would have to do to earn your approval, and then I would do it."

Someone who didn't know Hannah would have missed her barely there smile.

James returned home that evening and kicked off his shoes. Aria met him in the doorway, her hands on her hips. "Where have you been?" she asked, her voice trembling and James paused watching her.

"I went out to dinner," he answered, and she chuckled crossing her arms over her chest.

"I knew it!" She whispered the words as she glared at him. He asked her what she knew as he stepped closer to her. She stepped back. "You've been acting so strange lately. So … nervous when we were together. So, uncomfortable and unsure. I knew there was something going on with you. Then, I'm at work late for the night, and when I get home you're not here. I saw the note you left for yourself, with your reservation information. Table for 2, 1900, and at my favorite restaurant! And you come home looking like that! Who were you with James?" She was nearly vibrating and James bit back a laugh. It would only make her angrier if it seemed like he wasn't taking her seriously.

"Lola, please, it's not what it looks like," he offered and, again, she stepped away from him as he stepped towards her. He stopped, sighing. "Okay, okay. I'll tell you just … come into the bedroom with me, please?" he asked and his heart clenched at the broken look in her eyes. He took her hand and she didn't return the hold as he led her to their room. He couldn't believe she thought he'd cheat on her. Though, he supposed he could see where she would get the idea.

She pulled her hand from his as they crossed the threshold into their bedroom. She crossed her arms over her chest and he went to his drawer. "I was out with someone, someone we both know," he started, he had to think she'd kick herself for her reaction once he told her who he'd been with and why. He found the little black box in his dresser drawer and closed it in his fist. He turned back to her, and his heart lurched in his chest at the tears in her eyes. "It's not what you're thinking, I promise," he said crossing the space between them quickly. His hands found their home on her hips and he leaned back to look into her face. She looked up with him, doubt clouding her features.

"Remember when Tali was over the other night, and you watched Fleet and Flotilla, again?" he asked, and she nodded. He tightened his hold on her waist when she shivered. She met his eyes, and he thought he saw a spark of recognition there. "Remember what you two talked about?" he asked. She nodded again, and James' lips quirked at the corner before he dropped to one knee.

Her hands flew to her mouth, covering half her face as she watched him pull the box from his pocket. "I was at dinner with your mother tonight," he explained, and the first tears rolled down her cheeks. "I told her just how much you mean to me, that your safety is my main goal, that your happiness is the reason I wake up every morning. I told her that you're it for me, and asked if she would approve of me as your husband, as a son-in-law." James was sure his heart wasn't beating. He opened the box exposing the ring; she didn't even glance at it. "She said, if you'll have me, she approves." James took her left hand in his. "Aria," he paused and she wiped her face, staring down at him, he could see her shaking as she stood still. "I am yours, forever. Will you—"

She cut him off, dropped to her knees in front of him and kissed him. It was sloppy, wet with tears, as their lips and tongues danced. He grinned against her kiss. She pulled back and buried her face in his neck. His heart hammered against his ribs as his head spun. Her arms wound around him, and he returned the embrace, holding her against his chest. Grounding himself in her arms. "I am already yours," she whispered the answer in his ear and he groaned pulling back and kissing her again, his tongue sweeping through her mouth as his hands caressed her back. She pushed him down, her mouth relentless against his. His hands slipped under her shirt, pulling it up over her head.

She sat back long enough to strip herself of her bra. James sat up when she did, eager to taste her as the emotion of the moment overwhelmed him. Her hands were cool as they went to his buttons. He thought maybe she tore one or two in her haste to take them off. They were skin to skin in seconds, her breasts against his chest as their tongues swirled around each other. Her skin was impossibly soft, silk in his rough hands. He wrapped one arm around her, rolling and setting her on the carpet as he left her lips. His kiss left a warm, wet trail over her jaw and down her neck. He suckled softly at her pulse point and she groaned as her nails dug into his back.

He slipped his knee between hers, and her legs fell open for him. He grinned against her skin as he moved lower. He was overwhelmed, again. The scent that is Aria, her smooth skin, her taste, the gentle moans and soft gasps that she let fall from her lips made it seem as if he was dreaming. Her hands moved to his hair, and she tugged. The sharp almost pain reminded him it was real, and he took a breast in his mouth.

Her back arched in response as she rolled her hips beneath him. He slid a hand down between them as he lavished her chest with attention. His hand reached the closure of her jeans and made quick work of it before dipping inside. He found her core hot and ready for him and he moved lower, leaving open mouthed kisses in his wake.

She lifted herself on her elbows to watch as he slid her jeans and briefs over her hips. She helped him slide them off and grinned, her lip between her teeth as he pressed kisses to the inside of her thighs. She reached out and caressed his face for a moment, and he smiled at her. She was so stunning. Her hair mussed from his attention. Her eyes bright and shining with lust and love. Her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen, he would give anything to make her look like this every day. Now that she had said yes, he could.

He dropped his head, his mouth meeting her center. She gasped, her hands falling to the floor as she watched him. He kept his attention on the task, his mouth working against her core, his tongue slipping inside, teasing her. She fell back and he grinned before lapping at her, his tongue teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves he found there. One hand reached up and cupped her breast, teasing and tweaking, as the other held her hips in place. His hips rocked, seeking friction, as his erection pressed against his dress pants. The need to be inside her, pressed chest to chest, and filling her was almost too much.

His heart swelled as her hand found his at her hip and she laced their fingers. His name left her on a gasp and a sigh as she crested. He continued lazy swipes with his tongue as she settled, returning from her high. She looked down at him, eyes dilated and grinning. A sated smile on her lips as she reached down and cupped his face. She pulled him, and he followed easily. Her legs fell open for him and he settled between them. "Your pants," she whispered against his kiss and he chuckled. He sat back on his heels and unbuckled them. She helped as best as she could as he shimmied.

She giggled at the way his hips moved, and held her arms out for him. He moved back on top of her, resting easily in the cradle of her hips. His eyes met hers and he kissed her. He kissed her slow, and long. It was a lazy kiss, a Sunday morning kiss, a kiss that said they would have millions more kisses, that said they had all the time in the world. They did. They had forever. He broke the kiss and their eager gasps for breath matched. He grinned, his forehead against hers as she lifted her legs on either side of him. "James," his gaze locked on hers, and she smiled.

He slipped inside her with one sure thrust. She gasped, her eyes fluttering as he filled her. He waited, loving the way the pleasure danced over her features. His chest swelled with a kind of masculine pride. He rolled her hips and she whimpered. She clung to him as he made love to her. Slow, easy, long thrusts, making sure she felt every solid inch of him. He dropped his head and lapped at the tender flesh of her neck, the tang of salt on her skin making him thirsty for more. More of her. More of everything. He felt the sheen of sweat break out on his skin as he struggled to go slow. She lifted her legs higher, gasping as he seemed to slip in further.

He moved quicker at her urging, and knew it wasn't going to be long before he finished. The pleasure burned low in his gut as he listened to her. He knew she was close again, too. Faster, and faster he moved, holding her close and keeping her still. She called out when she finished, clinging to him as her body moved to it's own broken rhythm seeking him, seeking more.

It didn't take long for him to follow, one, two sure hard thrusts into her core and he groaned long and low as she milked him. Tears filled his eyes as he kissed her in the aftermath, and he wasn't sure where they came from. Her hands cupped his face and she kissed his cheeks, then his eyes, then his lips. He tasted the salt of his own emotion in her kiss and sighed, feeling more content and sure than he had ever before.

She whimpered when he shifted off her, and she rolled to him, seeking his warmth. He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her. "Seriously, Lola, the bed is two feet away," he grinned into her hair.

"Couldn't wait," she answered, her lips brushing against his chest when she did. He understood. He wrapped his arms around her, and smiled, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

"Shit!" he shouted, pushing her away and she looked wounded as she watched him fumble around in their clothes. "Sorry, Lola, the ring! I can't lose it! That was three month's salary!" She rolled her eyes and sat up, rummaging around. He found it first and sat, looking down at it, then at her. "Do you like it? You didn't even look at it."

She smiled at him, and he knew it wouldn't matter. She would love anything he got for her but he really wanted her to love the ring. She finally looked to the piece of jewelry that said so much, and her jaw went slack. James chuckled as he took the ring from the box. It was simple; a diamond set in a platinum band with two smaller diamonds on either side. He took her left hand in his and slid the ring on her finger. She looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears and the most beautiful smile on her perfect lips. He thought, sitting there, stark naked – wearing nothing but his ring and a smile – she had never been more beautiful. She stood then, and held her hand for him. He took it, and she led him to bed.

He wrapped the blankets around them and held her close, as he always would. She left lazy kisses on his wide chest as her hands traced invisible patterns over his skin. He was looking forward to spending forever like this.