The prisoner was up before the guard had awoken. Vega was not a morning person, so it did not surprise him to wake up to the sight of Shepard on the surveillance screen already dressed and halfway through her daily exercise routine.

He sat up in the compact bunk and squinted across at the screen with sticky eyes. The Commander was engaged in something akin to yoga, dressed in grey cotton shorts and a black vest, with a duvet spread over the floor in the absence of a proper mat. Vega stretched out with a wide yawn and cracked his neck from side to side. He squeezed each hand with the other until the knuckles clicked to his satisfaction. Then he switched on the coffee dispenser and clambered into the monitoring seat to check on the status of his ward.

Shepard was seated in what looked like an extremely painful position on the make-shift yoga mat, with her legs spread eagle and her upper body stretched out to one side. Vega watched with a wince on his face as she reached all the way down to her extended foot and held it in her hands. Her lean back arced effortlessly. The coffee dispenser bleeped. Vega didn't hear it. He slid his finger over the zoom button without even thinking.

Her bare legs were endlessly long, slender, but with incredible muscle tone. Even on the holo screen Vega could see the fluid curves of her thigh muscles and the swell of her calves as they pulled with the movement. She came up from the right side and rolled down to the left, stretching out to her foot as she had done with the other. Her vest top rode up as she twisted, and Vega was given an impressive preview of her trim waist. He had forgotten to blink as he watched, not even noticing that his eyes were sore from sleep and his throat had gone dry. No perceptible thoughts were passing through his mind. He was in some kind of time warp, frozen, unable to look away.

He saw Shepard return to an upright sitting position on the floor, and then she began to lift both of her legs up over her head. Vega's mouth came open. He suddenly felt very warm. The lithe female soldier continued her routine, contorting her body into all kinds of weird and wonderful shapes. Vega got an eyeful of her backside and the sight of it sent his mind reeling. The full, round, tight peach filled him with dangerous feelings that overcame his senses in one massive wave. It all crashed down on him. He jerked out of his stupor and snapped his gaze away from the screen.

He let out a long, hot breath. Shaking his head sternly with a mental warning to himself, he forced himself to go wash his face. A splash of cold water, a brisk rub with a towel, and he was awake. Pretending the last few minutes had not even happened, he went to grab his coffee and sat down with the chair facing away from the monitoring screens. With his free hand he fumbled blind around the console behind him for the news datapad.

Vega refused to risk another glance at the screen until his mind and body had rid themselves of every inappropriate inclination. That took a while. By the time he had collected the willpower to face the sight of her again, Shepard was gone. The bathroom door was closed. Before the image of those remarkable buttocks could fully re-establish itself in his mind's eye, he fixed his attention on the comm station and sent down an order for breakfast.

When Shepard stepped out of the bathroom she found Lieutenant Vega in her cell, sitting in the desk chair by the window with two food containers on his lap. Hearing her enter, he stood up, put the containers aside, and gave the Commander a salute.

'Ma'am,' he said politely.

Shepard had dressed in dark Alliance style combat trousers with a matching jacket and chunky leather boots. The standard weapons holsters down the trouser legs were empty, but the appearance was military nonetheless. She had regained the look of a soldier in Vega's eyes for the moment. Her short wet hair was combed back neatly out of her face, adding to the professionalism of the ensemble.

'Morning, James,' she greeted the Lieutenant expressionlessly.

Vega waited until she had taken a seat and then offered her one of the pre-prepared meals.

'Omelet,' he informed her.

'Thanks.' She took the container and sat back in the armchair with it.

The young man glanced over at the rumpled duvet that was now in its rightful place on the bed. He looked at Shepard.

'You know,' he said, 'I could probably get you a fitness mat if you want.'

She took a bite of her breakfast and chewed it properly before replying: 'Don't worry about it.'

'If you say so…' He opened up his food container. 'But, if you need anything, just let me know. Right?'

'I will. Thanks.'

Shepard's face was just as drawn and weary as it had been the day before. It was likely that she hadn't slept. But she was wearing her disciplined visage like a good soldier; not even a bow in her stature or a slump to her shoulders. She sat upright with a face of stone as she ate her breakfast across from her subordinate.

'What's on today's agenda?' she asked in a crisp tone.

'You gotta meet the shrink,' Vega informed her. 'Do a preliminary psych assessment.'

'Fine.'

There was a hardness to her manner that told Vega she was not in a good mood. He had been instructed to help her morale wherever possible, so it was kind of his job to ask:

'You okay, Commander?'

She inhaled deeply through her nose. 'I don't do passive,' was her explanation. 'I don't like lounging around here doing nothing.'

'Yeah, I get that,' he assured her. 'I get a bit loco when I'm on standby for too long.'

'It's been one day, and I already want to shoot something.'

'Let's hope Cerberus tries to bust in and take you out. A bit of action.'

She smiled with one corner of her tight mouth. 'Sounds good.'

'We're soldiers,' Vega said, leaning back in his chair reflectively. 'We're built for action. It's not in our nature to hang back and let the galaxy turn.'

'Exactly.'

'Hey, did you know this place has a gym? And they won't let you out of your cell to use it?' His outrage seeped through his voice.

She rolled her eyes. 'That's just great.'

'If you want, Commander, I can help you blow off some steam while you're penned in here,' he offered, needing to be useful somehow. It was only after he had said it that he noticed how it sounded.

Shepard noticed, too. Her hazel eyes pinched at the corners with a smirk that had not reached her lips. It was subtle, as was the momentary flicker of her gaze over the young man's body. Vega was almost certain he had imagined it. As he said a quick prayer that the faux-pa would drift harmlessly by, she shone a spotlight on it.

'What exactly did you have in mind, Lieutenant?' If it was possible for a voice to grin, that's what hers was doing.

'Uh…' he blundered, avoiding eye contact, 'you know, sparring… ma'am.'

'Right… In that case, I'd say you have an unfair advantage.'

In that case…?

'Not really,' he responded. 'I know you've faced bigger enemies than me, Commander.'

She nodded, half to herself as she recalled them. 'All right, Lieutenant,' she said decisively. She stood up. 'You're on.'

'Now?'

Shepard pushed her barely touched omelet away from her. 'Uh-huh.'

Vega stopped eating. He watched the Commander roll out her arms and shake her head around, loosening herself up for what was to come. He suddenly felt a flutter in his stomach. He was going to fight Commander Shepard? Ambivalent emotions played tug-of-war with his senses; the exciting chance to facing such a skilled opponent, the embarrassing possibility of losing to a girl, the daunting challenge that an infamous war hero presented, the nagging concern that he might accidentally hurt her… She was waiting for him. Bouncing on the spot like a little rabbit, skinny arms pumping, she almost looked silly. Vega came to his feet.

'You'll go easy on a woman, right?' she quipped, dancing backwards into the centre of the room. There was a grin rising from her lips.

Vega laughed shortly. 'Yeah, right. Is that what you said to Saren?' Cracking his knuckles, he strode into the invisible ring that she was skirting. 'Before you kicked his ass?'

'Nah, that's what you should be saying to me!'

'Ay! Nice one!'

She flashed him a cheeky smile and squared up to him. 'Ready?'

He was about to go hand-to-hand with the first human Spectre. She was right in front of him, eyes alight, ready to go. And, damn, was she tiny!

The whole situation felt so unreal until her fist connected with his jaw. A shot of pain kicked him into reality. He drew back, clutching the side of his face in surprise. Shepard laughed.

'I asked if you were ready!' she said defensively.

Vega shook it off and flexed his huge shoulders. 'Oh, so that's how you wanna play it?'

He lunged. Shepard darted out of his path and struck out at his side, but Vega blocked it with his elbow. He whirled to face her, fist flying. She caught it on her forearm, parried his follow-up, and bounced back to a safe distance. Vega found himself laughing. She was quick. He maintained the distance and began to circle her, both arms up, fists curled but loose. Shepard made a dart beneath his guard and punched him square in the abdomen. Vega absorbed it, but was nevertheless impressed by the power of her blow.

They increased their speed in unison. Shepard threw a series of punches that Vega tried to deflect – one he foiled with his wrist, another took him in the shoulder, one-two against each of his palms. He saw a break in her attacks and went for the opening, heaving himself bodily against her guard to throw her off balance. She stumbled back but did not lose her footing. With a half-outraged laugh, she returned the move, both slender elbows slamming into him at once. Vega barely budged. He knocked one of her arms aside and dealt her a quick palm strike to the ribs.

Shepard let out a burst of air mingled with a grunt. She drew back one shoulder to protect her torso, and with the other she took a swing at Vega's face. He had been keeping his head back, so it meant she had to spring, her feet almost lifting away from the ground, in order to reach him. She only skimmed his chin. Vega leaned back even further, appraising his small opponent down the barrel of his nose.

'You're gonna have to do better than that, Commander!' he told her between breaths.

'I'm just getting warmed up!' she shot back, and to emphasise her point she pounded him in the breastbone.

'Ah!' he yelped. 'Better!'

'What are you, my trainer?' She rained her fists harmlessly against his protective forearms.

Vega grinned widely. The little creature wasn't making a dent in his defence. He toyed with her for a while, dancing back and forth, collecting her blows upon his hands the way a father would do with a child. He was growing cockier with every passing second. Shepard dealt out her shots without much attention to aim or power. It was as if she was just trying to distract him. Aware of this, Vega was still confident that he could take whatever she had up her sleeve.

He side-stepped another of her double blows and got in a nice shot of his own, catching her on the side of the mouth. She wrenched back and licked her smarting lip, not risking exposing her torso by raising her hand. Vega's feet played across the floor as he gloated silently, the self-satisfied smile never leaving his face. Shepard aimed up high, coiled in preparation, and Vega reacted accordingly by raising his guard up to his face. But she feinted, and at the last second lashed out at his unprotected stomach.

Her fist connected with his navel with a shocking force that sent him doubling over unintentionally. Shepard took her opportunity, launched back her right shoulder, and struck him square in the nose with the momentum of her entire body. Pain exploded in Vega's face. He staggered backwards with an outcry. Hot tears blinded him and his nose erupted in a stream of blood.

Shepard retreated to a defensive position as she eyed the Lieutenant, but he had no intention of launching a counter-attack. Winded at his core, blocked up in his sinuses, he fought to regain his breath. Through his blurry vision he could just about make out the silhouette of Shepard hanging back across the imaginary boxing ring. She was waiting charitably, giving him time to recover. However, when his sight cleared he saw that she was grinning.

'Santa Maria,' the bloody-nosed soldier choked. He brought the back of his hand up to plug the leak. 'That was freakin' awesome. Where do you keep your strength in that micro body?'

'You seem to be all caught up on size, Lieutenant,' she retorted, titling her head. 'Is there a particular reason for that?'

Vega laughed, a burst of breath from his aching diaphragm. 'Trash talk from Commander Shepard,' he said in disbelief. 'I like it.'

Shepard marched over to the window with her head tossed back smugly, and dropped down onto the bed. She lay back against the collection of pillows, closing her eyes while she waited to catch her breath. She was smiling broadly.

'You done?' Vega mocked her, still fighting to curb his nosebleed with his bare hands.

'Thought I'd quit while I'm ahead. Besides, you look like you need a break.'

'Yeah, right.'

He tilted his head back as far as he could and pinched the bridge of his nose. It hurt like hell to hold it, but he ignored the pain. It occurred to him that it might be broken. He sniffed experimentally. No, not this time. He knew what a broken nose felt like, and this wasn't quite as bad as that. He glanced over at the Commander, who was lounging contentedly over the duvet, looking like the cat who'd got the cream. She peered up at him.

'Go put some ice on it, Lieutenant,' she ordered through a smile. 'Then come back and finish your breakfast.'

The words "Yes, mama" popped into Vega's head. He held them back. Friendly banter was all well and good, but this woman was still Commander Shepard. He elected for a grunt of acknowledgement, and then left to find some ice.