Another from the drabble prompts at the Mass Effect LJ community. Good times to be had by all! Unbeta'd so consider yourself warned, etc.
Prompt: personal space
Commander Shepard indulged a moment of weakness, leaning her head against the wall of the elevator. Of all the elevators on the Citadel, she had to get stuck in this one.
A male throat cleared itself in the background.
"What?" Shepard growled, not turning around.
"Nothing," Kaidan Alenko said, rocking back on his heels. A small smile played at the corner of his mouth and Shepard had to look away quickly. "Just… the irony of it all."
"Indeed." Shepard sighed and turned around, crossing her arms across her chest. "The salarian tech on the other end of the emergency line said it wouldn't be long."
The smile on Kaidan's mouth—stop looking at his mouth—grew bigger. "You said that already, Shepard."
She scowled. "Well, you have any bright ideas, Staff Commander? Seems we're going to be here awhile."
Kaidan took a step toward her, and in the tiny elevator it divided the already small space between them in half. Shepard's personal bubble was sensitive at the best of times, but with this man it was so palpable she could nearly see him purposely poking at it—like passing through the mass effect field of a ship. Shepard's breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of the gold flecks in his brown eyes. She'd tried to count them one night—stop it!
"I could think of a few things, Shepard," he said, his eyes roaming her face and coming to rest on her lips.
"S-such as?"
Kaidan took another step closer. "Such as…" He leaned so close that Shepard could feel her knees liquefying the closer he came. "Such as why you faked your death and left your crew to the bitter mercies of the Alliance."
Shepard felt ice craw down her spine, lending strength to her weak legs. "Like I said before, Kaidan," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I didn't fake my death; Cerberus can kiss my—" Her words were abruptly cut off as Kaidan closed the remaining distance between them, cupping her face between his hands and bringing his lips to hers.
"Sorry," he said a moment—not long enough—later. "I interrupted you. It… was very rude."
"I missed you," she said into his neck. "I mean, it felt like only a couple of days for me—" She was rambling. Damn the man; he was the only one who could make her feel like an unschooled ensign and by the grin on his face, he knew it too.
He brushed a thumb across her babbling lips. "I missed you too."
