It was all a little too convenient. Shepard knew why she was assigned here, but she didn't quite trust James' motivation. It wouldn't be the first time Anderson had paired the two of them together. Still, if the Admiral wanted to keep someone Shepard trusted close, he really couldn't have chosen a better person.

Well, Tali may have been preferred, but she was already back on Rannoch.

Shepard smiled as she remembered seeing the Quarian's face for the first time, after they'd reclaimed her homeworld in a very tense standoff with the Geth.

She gave Tali six months before she got bored of being planet-side and took to the skies again. As much as she wanted her homeworld back, Tali loved the excitement of battle too much to stay put for long. Shepard wondered how long it would take her friend to figure that out. She wouldn't be surprised if the woman became the first Quarian Spectre. She'd get Shepard's recommendation, for damn sure.

But James, James had been there at her lowest. When she was trapped and frustrated and completely unable to prevent the war she knew was coming, he'd been there. He'd treated her like a person first, a hero second, and a traitor never.

Kaidan Alenko could have taken notes.

There were days Shepard wished he had.

Losing the soft-spoken biotic's trust had almost broken her. After all she'd been through, all they'd been through together, he'd believed the rumors and the lies instead of the woman standing in front of him.

The woman who'd loved him.

No more. Any hint of emotion she'd held onto after their confrontation on Horizon he'd effectively killed a year later on Mars. After destroying the Collectors, then turning herself and her shiny new ship in to the Alliance. After spending six months in what amounted to lockdown while they figured out what to do with her. He'd still thought she was working with Cerberus.

She trusted Kaidan at her back. He was a damn good fighter. But no longer with her heart. Never again. No man who could think for even a second that she'd betray Humanity and the Alliance with the bastards responsible for the deaths of her unit on Akuze, deserved it. After his accusations on Horizon, she'd closed that part of herself up tight. She hadn't let anyone in since.

While they hadn't gotten close while she was incarcerated in Vancouver, James had maintained a steady presence. His faith in her had kept her from giving up.

Maybe that's what Anderson was doing now. Crafty bastard. Still, it was nice having a friendly face around. If she was going to be trapped in this purgatory, better to be trapped with a friend.

Misery loves company.

She decided not to look this particular gift horse in the mouth. If Anderson was manipulating her (and really, when wasn't he?) he'd chosen well. She'd get revenge later. Kahlee owed her one. Nothing like having someone's lost love from twenty years past in your back pocket. Especially when said lost love was currently someone's found love.

The day went pretty much the same as the day before, save for a few new faces on the street-level grunt squad. Shepard and James fell easily back into their old pattern as James stayed close without hovering. He'd had a year's practice being nearby, but just far enough away to not incur the dread wrath of the Commander.

As the workday came to an end, they walked back to the hotel as a group. "So, Lola. Where do they have you quartered?"

"Up on the fourth floor."

"Wow. Lucky. I'm on 2. Half of the residents there are families. I love to see the kids, but man does it get hectic and loud down there."

"Yeah they wanted me in a low-traffic area and they figured I could handle the stairs."

"Sounds like they knew you were comin'."

"I figured as much when they gave me my own room."

James stopped dead. Shepard walked a few steps and cast a confused look over her shoulder to where he should have been standing. He jogged a few steps to catch up again, having barely missed being run into from behind by another volunteer.

"How the fuck did you manage that?" He sounded just a mite peeved.

"I think my reputation precedes me." Shepard glowered. "Which is completely ridiculous. I've slept in a tent in bug-and-snake-infested jungle. I've slept on the hard ground, gone without showering for weeks." She wrinkled her nose. "And that was when I was rooming with nine other soldiers. That got fucking ripe. But I can't decline the room, because these people want to thank me for being a goddamn hero. And I appreciate that, but I wish they wouldn't."

"Hey, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Lola. You got peace and quiet and your own bathroom. I say just run with it."

She nodded. There wasn't much else she could do without seeming ungracious. She'd come to the same conclusion all on her own. Still, it was nice having someone she could bitch to who would understand.

They said their good-byes outside the hotel that evening and she headed to her rack early. It had been so long since she'd gotten regular sleep she was stocking up.

Husks and banshees pursued her through her dreams that night, and she woke gasping for breath, her legs snarled in the sheets. With a groan, she rose out of bed and made her way to the washroom, slapping the light on. She splashed water on her face and studied her reflection. She leaned in, shaking fingers trailing over her skin, searching. There was no trace of the red scars that had come with her resurrection, and returned once more with her almost-death. Faint lines were still visible, but she knew from experience they too would disappear in just a few weeks. That creepy red glow in the back of her eyes hadn't made a reappearance since she woke in the Cerberus facility, thank God. In her worst nightmares, those scars spread over her entire body, turning her into a glowing red husk, and when she opened her mouth to speak, that awful foghorn Reaper-scream was all that would come out.

She took a shuddering breath, ignoring the shimmer that hovered in her eyes. She was alive. She was herself. Crying wasn't going to improve the situation.

Somewhat calmed, she toweled off her face and got dressed. She decided on a whim to find Vega's quarters. She knew from experience there would be no more sleep for her, and it was past six hundred hours. It was still quiet on the fourth floor, but maybe the din on the second would have him up at this early hour.

She wasn't wrong. The noise of too many families packed into tiny hotel rooms assaulted her as soon as she opened the door as she left the stairs. Half a dozen children of varying ages and ethnicities played in the hallway, watched through open doors by harried-looking parents.

Shepard had to smile. After so much death and pain and destruction, these children still smiled and played. Their lives had been changed forever, but they were still here. The war had not robbed them of their childhood.

For the first time it struck her that she'd actually saved something. For all the tears and lost homes and dead loved ones and nightmares, there was enough left of the world, of the human race, to start over. To maybe someday find something worth smiling over. The echo of laughter down the hall proved that some had already started to find their happiness even now.

She had forgotten what hope felt like.

A toddler on wobbly legs escaped through an open door and tried to make a break for it past Shepard. She expertly swooped up the boy before he could get into trouble. His mother appeared in the doorway a moment later, relief calming her features as she saw her boy safe. "Oh, thank-you," the small woman gushed as she wiped her hands on a towel. Setting it on her shoulder, she reached for her son.

Shepard handed over the wriggling child with a bemused smile. The woman set the boy on her hip with a stern look and looked back up at Shepard. Her eyes widened. "Hey aren't you…?"

"Shepard. Nice to meet you. Cute kid. He's going to be a fast one."

"Already is. He's been walking for two weeks and I can barely keep up."

"Glad to be of service then. Hey, you wouldn't happen to know which room James Vega is in, would you?"

"Big guy, buff, charmer? Lots of tattoos and sexy scars?"

Shepard smirked. "Sounds like the Lieutenant."

"He's down at the other end of the floor. 234, I think? If you don't mind my asking, how do you know him?"

"He served with me aboard the Normandy. Damn good soldier to have at your back. Bit of a mouthpiece, though."

The woman smiled. "Tell him Adele said hi."

Shepard's smirk broadened. "I will pass that along. I'd imagine he's got a few admirers, though."

Adele nodded. "You would not be wrong. I have to go get this guy dressed. It was nice meeting you."

Shepard walked with her to her door. "And Commander? Thank-you."

Humbled by the woman's simple acknowledgement, Shepard nodded and made her way through the mobile obstacle course that was the children playing, to the other end of the building.

She was almost bowled over by over six feet of solid muscle as the door swung open with a whoosh before she even got the chance to knock. "Oh, hey. Sorry. Didn't see you there. You're Shepard, right? You lost?"

"This Vega's room?"

"Oh. Yeah. He's back there." The man thumbed behind him before slipping past her, obviously in a hurry.

She stepped over the threshold, seeing three men in various states of undress sitting or stretched out on folding camp cots. "Hey, Shepard. Come on in." One of the men she'd worked with both days, Dale, beckoned. "If you're looking for Vega, he's that lump." The man pointed to a cot against the wall with a man in a t-shirt and shorts, stretched out face-down with a pillow pulled over his head. Muffled noises Shepard had to assume were profanity came from under the pillow before it was hurled in the direction of Dale.

"Fuck, man. Would letting me have twenty extra minutes of sleep kill you guys?" he asked, rolling over.

The bathroom door opened to yet another man, towel wrapped around his waist, foaming at the mouth. He pulled a toothbrush out for just long enough to say, "Yes," before closing the door and resuming brushing his teeth.

"Hey, Lola. What brings you down to this level of Hell?" James asked as he sat up.

"I was awake. Thought I'd check out your digs." She looked around. Six cots were arranged around the room, bags and clothes strewn haphazardly over and under and around them. It looked (and smelled) like the college dorm room from hell. "I think someone hates you."

"Ha. Tell me about it. Between these five yahoos and the children's orchestra I think Anderson lied to me and this is secretly part of my N7 training."

"Pretty sure between your conduct during the war, and my recommendation, they're going to grandfather you in," Shepard replied.

James froze. "Really? I didn't know they do that."

"I don't think they ever have. But since the training facility has been destroyed and many of the N7-level agents are dead, they're considering bumping a few people up. I imagine you're at the top of the list."

He grinned, nodding. "I could live with that."

"Hey, you want to come talk to me in the hall for a minute?"

"Sure." He manoeuvered his way through the room, miraculously finding enough clear spaces on the floor to step in, and walked past her through the open door. She followed, closing it against the sound of juvenile catcalls.

"What's up, Lola. You look serious all of a sudden."

"This is ridiculous. You're crammed in here with five guys while I have a room the same size to myself. Why don't you pack up your bunk and move in with me."

"You flirtin' with me again, Lola?" he asked with a lazy smile.

"No, I mean it. You can have more space and only share a bathroom with one person, and your roommates can have a little more breathing room. Also, there's only volunteers on my floor. No kids. So it's quiet and you can get more sleep." One glance around his room and her decision had been made.

He considered for a moment. "I can be packed in five minutes." She'd never heard him so serious.

Shepard laughed. "That's what I thought. I'll wait for you out here."

True to his word, James was packed up and back in the hallway in under five minutes. He handed her the folded up cot and hefted a large duffel bag. "The guys wanted you to know that, if you wanted to, you could swap and move in with them."

She laughed again. "Naw. One beefcake roommate is all the testosterone I can willingly handle. I worked hard to get to a place where I don't have to share quarters like that. I'm not going back if I can help it."

"I think you've just gotten soft in your old age."

"I could still hand you your ass," she fired back, "or revoke my invitation."

That sobered him up. "That you could. Lead the way, commander."

"Adele said to say hi," Shepard tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the nearest staircase.

"Hmm, did she now?" replied Vega with an air of interest.

Shepard shook her head and started up the stairs. She heard him chuckle as he followed her.

"Wow, Lola. Nice digs." James looked around her… no, their room. A single glance took in the bed in the corner, dresser and bathroom. It didn't look like anyone lived there at all. "It's gonna take some getting used to, being able to see the floor and all," he joked.

"You see why I had to take pity on you?" she cocked her head and raised a brow at him.

"Yeah. Looks like you don't do much in here. Seems lonely." He didn't look at her as he made the observation. There was a surprisingly perceptive mind hiding under the beefcake exterior.

"Honestly? Yeah. I don't mind the quiet, but I miss my crew." She turned her back to the room as she bent at the low dresser and moved all her clothes from the three drawers on the left. "You can have these." She gestured to the empty side. "All my clothes fit in the other three anyways."

She turned to find James staring at her, his green eyes seeing too much. As usual. She sighed. "What?" she asked resignedly.

"You know you can talk to me, right? Don't bottle this shit up."

Shepard gave him a weak smile. "I know where to find you."

He nodded and set his duffel on top of the dresser. She set up his cot against the far wall while he unpacked.

"Your rooming with me might ruin your chances with the ladies, Vega. You sure you can handle that?"

He shot an amused look over his shoulder. "Long as you can handle the rumors that we're sleepin' together."

Fuck. She could feel her cheeks getting red. Saviors of the Citadel and Galactic Heroes weren't supposed to blush. Too bad her face hadn't gotten the memo. She sat down on the edge of her bed and watched him finish setting his clothes neatly into the dresser, hoping she could get her reaction under control before he turned around. He'd never let her hear the end of it if he knew he'd made her blush.

If he found out it was even possible.

He tossed his pillow and blanket haphazardly on the cot, then set his empty duffel next to hers in the closet. He leaned on a wall, arms crossed over his chest and looked over his new home and roommate.

"Sorry about the bed," Shepard patted the bedspread apologetically. "I'd ask for them to give you one, but I think that would reek of pulling rank."

"Hey, some of us don't need that kind of luxury," he replied with a smirk. "Besides, I spent most of my nights on a cot just like this one in the hold of the Normandy."

"I always wondered about that."

He shrugged and moved to sit on the cot, a few feet from where she sat. "I prefer the hum of engines to the voices of crew when I'm trying to sleep." He didn't add that he wanted to be there when she returned from missions. He always slept better when he knew she was safe, back aboard.

She'd never let him hear the end of it if she knew he worried. And she'd shit a brick if she knew just how much.

Shepard looked around her newly-shared quarters. "Looks like we've got you situated. Want to go grab breakfast?"

His stomach grumbled, answering for him.

She grinned. "C'mon. Let's head down."

Breakfast was good. Work that day was uneventful, but exhausting.

Shepard was really getting to enjoy the feeling of a hard day's labor that didn't tax her conscience. They were doing good work here, no question. It had been so long since she could unequivocally say that. Anderson was right. Again. She really did need this.

The end of the day arrived and they walked back in the fading light, James griping about a sore shoulder. It was a common complaint among the the volunteers. Theirs was hard physical labor, and sore muscles, along with minor cuts and bruises, came with the territory.

While she commiserated with their pain, Shepard could lay claim to none of their ailments. For her, taxing her biotics meant bone-deep weariness and raging hunger. She knew from past experience if she pushed too hard it would lead to poor muscle co-ordination and a piercing headache.

So while at the end of the day most of the grunt crew just wanted a massage, she was happy to eat and crawl into her bed as quickly as possible.

Shepard watched the play of muscles in James' back as they made their way to the fourth floor. She absently admired the way his dark pants showed off the muscles in his well-toned ass. She wasn't dead, after all. And the fact that she'd been celibate since she'd been dead didn't help.

Two goddamn years. Maybe she could have skipped the volunteer thing and gotten herself laid. A good fucking would help set her to rights. She grinned, knowing the man in front of her had no clue as to the direction of her thoughts. She imagined he'd find it fascinating.

Maybe Massani would be up for it? She cocked her head, thinking of the grizzled old merc. He was one of the few people in the galaxy who could truly understand what it was to come back from the dead and have to rebuild your life, yourself from the ground up. He also wouldn't get clingy after. He'd be damn good in bed too. She'd put good money on that one. The man didn't do anything by halves. She wondered what he was up to now.

James reached the top of the stairs and held the door for her. "Penny for your thoughts, Commander?"

"Huh?" she asked, still lost in thought.

"You've been pretty quiet. Was just wondering what's going on under that practical-but-sexy hair of yours."

She shrugged as she passed him. "Just missing the old crew."

He was glad she was in front of him, afraid his expression would give him away. "Anyone in particular?" he asked. Alenko, he thought to himself. She misses her old lover. For some reason the thought left a hollow sensation in his chest. He resisted the urge to rub it away as he let the door fall closed and followed her to their room.

Their room. Fear and excitement filled him at the idea. It shouldn't have. He'd shared close quarters with plenty of people, both men and women, throughout his career. He and the Commander had seen each other in various states of undress numerous times. The undermesh of their armour didn't leave much to the imagination, and they'd suited up together, or done the reverse, more times than he could count.

This felt different. He couldn't quite piece together why.

She held the door for him this time. He moved past her into the room, careful not to brush against her. James didn't know if he could conceal his reaction if they touched.

"Shower allocation is tomorrow, so you're just going to have to put up with my stench," Shepard said glibly as she closed the door.

"Believe me, you smell like a fucking rose garden compared to my last roommates. It smelled like a locker room in there."

Shepard bit back a smile. "I may have noticed."

"Sorry for stinking up your nice digs."

She shrugged, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. "It was too sterile in here anyway. Now at least it looks a bit lived-in."

"I live to serve."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Don't let your groupies know. They'll be lined up outside the door twenty-four-seven."

"Don't be jealous, Lola. There's plenty of me to go around."

She rolled her eyes at his smarmy smile.

"Besides, you've got no shortage of admirers, yourself."

Shepard blinked hard. "What?"

"You haven't noticed the way people stare in awe as you walk by?"

"I try my best to ignore that."

"Yeah, well, while you're ignoring the hero-worship, you're missing the looks more than a few of the men are giving you. A couple of women, too."

"I'm not exactly in the market for a relationship right now," she protested.

"Maybe a relationship ain't what they're looking for."

She cocked her head for a moment. "Nope. I'm too messed up right now to deal with that shit. Last thing I need right now is a clinger after what's supposed to be some casual recreation."

"So I won't have to worry about coming home to find a sock on the door knob?" James asked with a smirk.

"Will I?" she shot back.

"Naw. I'm not interested in a quick hook-up right now. Don't even know where I'll be in three months, so nothing serious either."

"A bit of celibacy might do you good, Vega."

"Believe it or not, Lola, I've gone without for a while now." Since I met you, actually. He'd let someone pull out all his fingernails one by one before he'd admit that detail.

"Wonders never cease," she replied, but the sarcastic bite had gone out of her. Her shoulders had begun to slump when she'd sat down, and her blinks were getting longer and longer.

"Why don't you get ready for bed? You look exhausted," he offered. She nodded, slowly rising from her position on the bed and moving to grab shorts and a t-shirt from the dresser.

"I'll get changed in the washroom." She held up the clothes and headed in without waiting for a response from him.

James tried hard not to picture what that process would look like. Particularly the middle part of the process. He failed. Shaking his head, he quickly moved to the dresser and retrieved his own sleeping clothes, changing as fast as he could. The last thing he needed was for either of them to see each other in any state of undress. It was awkward enough sharing sleeping quarters without that.

Shepard came back out of the washrooms only a few minutes later.

They stood there in the small room, staring at each other, yet somehow not-staring. Their glances managed to slide away whenever their eyes came close to locking. Finally, Shepard laughed.

"I figured it out."

A crease appeared between James' eyebrows, but he said nothing.

"You and I are both completely clothed. Fuck, we've practically got matching outfits," she gestured back and forth between them, indicating their black athletic shorts and t-shirts. The only difference was that Shepard's shorts bore the distinctive N-7 red-on-white stripe down the right hip. "We've been in a small room together in the same or less clothes. I never felt this off about it."

James nodded, hoping she'd get to the point. Being awkward was bad. Hearing her talk about it was almost unbearable. Leave it to Shepard to tackle it head-on. He'd have been happier just pretending everything was normal.

She pointed. "It's the feet. In all the time I've known you, seen you partially undressed, I've never seen your bare feet." She cocked her head as she studied them, grinning faintly.

James thought about that for a moment, paying close attention to the Commander's bare feet. He broke into a grin. "Who'd have thought, huh? Everything we've been through and we get hung up on naked feet." He shook his head. She walked past him and climbed under the covers.

"I have to admit though, they're pretty sexy," Shepard tossed sleepily over her shoulder as she snuggled into bed.

Well, fuck. Now he'd never be able to get to sleep.

And damn her, he was pretty sure she knew that.