A short update for you all while I work on editing upcoming parts. Thank you again to all who have set alerts for the story - it is really appreciated!

She didn't want to meet his eyes. Those wonderfully striking blue eyes. She could remember a time, when she hadn't quite realized the extent of her feelings for him, that she would catch herself staring at those eyes. She would marvel at how they shone when he was recounting a particularly good fight, blaze when he was angry, narrow with intensity when he was sighting down an enemy.

She'd even seen this particular look before; the one that said anger. The one that forcefully reminded her that for all their similarities he was so very not human.

He was so far from human that a part of Shepard's mind wondered what kind of kool-aid she had been drinking for ever thinking of Garrus…that way.

But as she stood before him, arms crossed in front of her chest and weight on one leg – her carefully affected pose of 'I don't give a shit' – she couldn't help her mind, and her eyes, from appraising him.

He was tall. And big. Such obvious characteristics somehow never occurred to her with such intensity as they did now. For some reason, she didn't remember him being this…imposing…before. Military life meant she wasn't unaccustomed to being around large men. Now though, standing in front of Garrus as he stared her down, she felt tiny. Things about him that she never really paid attention to before were making themselves uncomfortably known. Like how large his hands were, how his cinched waist accentuated the musculature of his thighs and the broadness of his chest, how he was so graceful on and off the battlefield even in all that scarred armor, how she knew he was so much stronger than he looked, that there was so much coiled muscle underneath…

Biology and self-preservation instinct told her that she should be afraid to have this predator before her and to be the focus of his anger. Her stupid brain told her that she was a fool for not realizing before how sexy he was.

"Well?"

Shepard blinked. Had she been staring like an idiot?

"Well, what?"

Garrus snorted. His gaze was intense as it held hers. She crossed her arms tighter around herself and stared back.

"You said you wanted to talk to me. What do you want?" she asked.

"What's going on, Shepard?"

"I don't know what you're talking about". It was automatic, a reflex.

"Cut the crap, Shepard. You've been ignoring me ever since…our talk".

She willed all the cells in her body not to betray her words. "You're imagining things."

He twitched. Shepard wondered if he was fighting the urge to grab her. Had the situation been reversed, she was sure she would have punched him by now for acting so childish. He was upset with her, and he was upset with himself. But he didn't know why.

She felt a surge of regret. Despite her anger, she knew that he hadn't done anything wrong. She knew that the only reason this was affecting him so much was because it was her. She knew how much he valued their friendship, and she had used that to her advantage to make him pay for slighting her. She felt so far away from him.

But she just didn't know what to say.

"Fine. Whatever. I won't bother you anymore, Commander".

He turned away and began walking towards the main battery. She felt a panic seize her, could see the widening chasm into which their friendship would crumble if she didn't do something, anything.

"Garrus…please…" Her voice was small, desperate.

He didn't stop. Her eyes stayed glued to his departing back until they were obscured by the door to the main battery shutting behind him.

Shepard felt her arms move to her sides. She was numb, a mental bandage to stop herself from thinking too hard about what just happened. Stop herself from wondering if she had fucked up the best friendship she'd ever had. She turned towards the elevator, refusing to look at the ground for fear she would see the telltale broken pieces.

She had to go talk to Jack. Then she needed a fucking drink.