Although she could not imagine Thane saying anything, somehow the entire ship knew about their future excursion within twenty-four hours. Honestly, she blamed EDI, who probably told Joker, who then told Tali, who told the engineers, who told... everybody. There wasn't anything to tell, really. Thane was taking her for a meal. She could just as easily share a meal with anyone else on the ship. Sharing food hardly implied intimacy.

So she ignored the sideways glances, took Mordin's 'advice' with a laugh, and pointedly told Kelly that she did not need any help selecting an outfit. While the rest of the ship seemed bound and determined to make something out of this, she hoped that her usual calm demeanor squashed some rumors.

But, as she stood in front of her closet in her undergarments and flicked the hangers back and forth, she couldn't help feeling a little nervous. She didn't have too many civilian outfits. She definitely wasn't wearing Kasumi's dress again. And from the few others that she did have... well, was Thane taking her somewhere nice? Somewhere casual? Who knew? And she felt too awkward to ask him. So, it had to be something in the middle. Maybe she should have accepted Kelly's help after all.

EDI alerted her to Thane's arrival, and she let out an undignified yelp of surprise. She had stood in front of her closet for too long. "Hold on, EDI." She grabbed the first piece of cloth that her hand touched, a deep crimson dress of all things (Thane probably wouldn't even be able to tell what color it was—not that it mattered, of course), and a pair of soft soled flats—perfect for running in if she had to. She always bought shoes with the thought of how well they would allow her to run for her life.

Shepard slipped the dress over her head. It was form fitting—also good for fighting in—and was shorter than she remembered. Cerberus must have added a few inches while she was cooking. But it was not too embarrassing—mid thigh was hardly provoking. It was still long enough for her to strap a slim pistol to her inner thigh, which she promptly did. She quickly looked herself over in the mirror.

Hair not sticking up all over the place? Check.

Underarms recently shaved? Check.

Breasts fully contained? Check.

Dress not caught in underwear? Check.

"Okay, let him in."

Thane entered just as she started slipping on her shoes. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I lost track of time."

"Not at all." He looked the same as ever—not that he needed to dress up.

His gaze traveled down the length of her form, and she narrowed her eyes at him, suddenly acutely aware of all her physical inadequacies—the thin lattice work of her scars, the sickly paleness of her legs (saving the galaxy afforded little time for getting a tan), the sheer audacity of ever trying to look like a normal woman who wore more than armor. "What?"

He must have caught the tone in her voice, for he gave a soothing rumble from the back of his throat. "I am just reminded that humans are only one color all over."

"Were you expecting stripes?" She said, somewhat mollified.

"Actually, yes." He half grinned at her. "But you look just as lovely without them."

She couldn't stop the blush that crept up her face, and he let out a soft laugh. "Ah, I spoke too soon. You do have more colors."


As usual, it was business before pleasure. Their reason for visiting first and foremost was purchasing some new upgrades, and so they headed to the marketplace first. There she haggled with vendors, weaseling discounts out of them so deep that she knew they had seller's remorse as soon as the transaction was completed. Thane stood slightly behind her, a silent presence that was more of a feeling than anything.

A lot of the vendors didn't recognize her without her helmet and armor, and she took advantage of it. There was no need to remind them of who she was, especially since the Cerberus accounts she paid with were not specifically tied to her name. Instead, she let them assume that she was a recent immigrant, rich and bored. It only took a stretch of their imagination to believe that she would favor their store to spend all her excess credits if they made it worth her time.

One vendor in particular gave her trouble, however. The volus was stubborn, to be sure, and seemed just as unwilling to budge as she was. "Fifty thousand credits?" She sniffed. "That is simply unacceptable. I'll have you know that I can purchase this on the Citadel for half that price."

"I doubt that, earth clan." A deep breath. "I have a cousin on the Citadel. He would never sell that low."

She pursed her lips in frustration. She really wanted that upgrade. Shepard was just about to concede, when Thane's hand lightly rested on her wrist. "Let us not waste our time here, dear." The volus seemed shocked to discover the drell was standing there. "We may have to pay slightly more at the asari's kiosk, but the service is infinitely better." His throat thrummed disapprovingly, and he looked down the length of his nose at the merchant. "I do not believe our integrity will be questioned there."

It took all of Shepard's will power not to laugh at the faux haughtiness that Thane exuded. "Now, now, do not be hasty." The volus backpedaled. "I meant no disrespect. I can give you a fifteen percent discount to make up for our misunderstanding."

Shepard pounced on the merchant's concession. "Make it twenty, and you have a life long customer."

The volus took a deep breath. "Done."

As soon as they were out of ear shot, Shepard turned to Thane with a raised eyebrow. "Dear?"

Thane met her gaze, something dangerously close to a smirk on his face. "I was merely playing along with your game, Shepard. You are as ruthless at trade as you are at war."

She crossed her arms and grinned at him. "You look more like a bodyguard than a boyfriend."

Thane took a step closer to her. "Perhaps. But a bodyguard does not offer advice. A boyfriend does. And anyone who looked at you would know that you need no protection. You are, indeed, a force to be reckoned with."

"I suppose I should be flattered."

"Yes." He said simply. "And now, if our business is concluded, follow me. Your holiday awaits."


The restaurant overlooked the sea. The sun was casting its final rays across the waters, and everything was tinted a rosy pink. The water seemed made of liquid amethyst, and as Shepard looked over the railing, she desperately wanted to kick off her shoes and run through the surf, feeling the sand between her toes.

Thane seemed to guess at her thoughts. He leaned on the rail next to her, looking out over the waves. "The water, it is warm. The sand is fine, and until you get to where the waves touch it, it shifts constantly underneath you, making you work to keep your balance. There are small blue crabs in the rocks and anemones the color of your blush earlier this evening." She colored again at his remembrance. "Yes," his voice rumbled an octave deeper than usual. "That one."

He turned around to face her, back to the water. "If we had a whole day, I would take you swimming. There are yellow and green fish that play here, and they are quite stunning."

His eyes were dark and inviting, and she smiled at the thought of him lazily backstroking through the soft waves. "Maybe when all this is done... maybe you could take me back here."

His eyes unfocused for a moment, and Shepard wondered what memory was running through his head. "Yes." He said finally, pushing himself away from the railing. "Let us eat."

The waiter recognized Thane and directed them immediately to a seat in the corner, near the largest window. The menu was large and varied, and Shepard had no problem picking out something that sounded divine. Thane got his 'usual', whatever that was, and in short order they were both exclaiming over the meal.

"I know that our food on the Normandy has been pretty good lately, but this is just perfect." She savored a bite, closing her eyes slightly as she chewed.

Thane smiled at her, a distant rumble vibrating his chest. "I am pleased you like it. Often when we visit a planet, we go only to the necessary destinations. I have been all over the galaxy. I could show you many things."

"Well, if all your spots are as good as this, consider me signed up." She took a sip of her wine. "Tell me about some other places on Nos Astra I've missed."

Thane leaned forward and began telling her of the hidden bookstores, the hiking trails that ran around the city's perimeter, the secluded beaches, obscure flower shops, and quiet places to think. His gaze became unfocused, and Shepard knew that everything he said was taken from a memory recorded in perfect detail.

"This is what your memory is good for, Thane." She said when he finished. "I would give a lot to be able to clearly remember some of the better moments from when I was a girl even if it means that I have to share them with the bad."

"I have found that it helps other species to speak of them." He rested his chin on his hand. "Share your memories with me, Shepard."

She cast her eyes to her plate and chased some vegetables around with a fork. "I... they're from a long time ago."

"As a girl, yes?" He pressed. "Where did you live?"

She glanced at the half empty glass of wine, already refilled several times by the waiter. Thane, for his part, had only two, but his constant... purring, for lack of a better word, seemed to betray his state as easily as her flushed cheeks. "I was part of a colony on Mindoir." She found herself saying. "We were an agricultural colony. I grew up a farmer's daughter." She smiled to herself. "I loved the harvest."

"What did you do?" Thane's eyes were intense in their scrutiny, and she knew that this, all of this, was being filed away—a permanent record.

She told him of their crops, of the harvest parties, the songs. The work was always hard, but she loved the feel of the damp earth on her hands, the pride when the first tender green shoots would break through the soil. She tried to describe the bushels of warm grain, how it felt to slid her hand into the kernels. The clear summer nights were her favorite—she would lay out in the fields, staring up at the stars and try to find Sol. "What made you leave such a life?" Thane asked. He took a drink, but his eyes never left her face.

She debated whether or not to skirt the issue or just come out with it. She didn't like talking about her parents' deaths; didn't like the sympathy that it inevitably inspired. It was just a conversation that she was tired of having. Thane blinked at her hesitation and leaned forward slightly, placing one hand palm up on the table. It was a gesture she had seen him do before, and she still wasn't sure what it meant. It looked like he wanted her to take his hand, but that interpretation simply didn't work with the context.

She looked at his palm, so strange with its unfamiliar creases and fused fingers. The words tumbled out of her. "Batarian slavers came when I was sixteen. We weren't really prepared to deal with it. We should have been. The settlement was slaughtered or taken. I was left alone."

Thane hummed sadly, quiet for a few moments. "And so you joined the Alliance for revenge?"

"At first." She traced patterns in the wooden table with the tip of her finger. "But after Akuze, revenge lost its appeal." Shepard dug into a crack with her fingernail. "It's the motif of my life. Loss. Even if they don't die, people have a habit of leaving you." Her thoughts landed on Kaidan, and she dug deeper.

"A person's absence does not necessarily mean they do not care."

"It's not just absence. It's abandonment. How many times have I sacrificed for my friends? How many times have I thrown myself into danger for their concerns?" Her fingernail was starting to hurt. "And now? He leaves me, and he won't even give me the decency of a voice. Just shuts me out." With a shock, Shepard realized what she was saying and wished she could reel the last few sentences back into her mouth. She sucked on the tip of her abused finger as her mind dutifully played her confession back for her. 'He'... how embarrassing.

"You speak of your comrade Alenko." Surprised, her eyes snapped back to his face, but it was unreadable. What exactly did Thane know about her and Kaidan? "You must understand, Shepard, that sometimes even those closest to us will offer disappointment. But if we truly care for them, we must always offer forgiveness."

"But where do we draw the line?" She felt a hint of anger creep into her voice and let it. "How many times do we let ourselves be disappointed?"

"There is not an answer to that question, for it is unique to every situation." Her hand dropped back to the table, and she felt his eyes follow it.

"Shades of gray, huh." She gave a pale smile.

"Indeed." His voice lowered. "You must... I cannot imagine the confusion, the fear, the anger, you must have felt upon returning to this life. You are strong. You persevere. But not everyone is as strong as you."

"I am not that strong."

"You consistently take more on to your slight human shoulders than I ever thought possible. Each day I am surprised by you. Your strength is such that even you cannot fathom it."

"But that's the problem, don't you see?" Her eyes flashed angrily at him, and he blinked rapidly at her. "People like you, who think I can do more and more and... one day, it will be too much. And you won't realize it. I'll fail you all."

"No, Shepard." This time his hand did reach for her, and his fingers ghosted over her own. "On that day, we will be there for you. We will save you." The inky darkness of his eyes enveloped her.

"You yearn for the simple days." He continued, voice soft and thrumming. "I can see that. The days of family and intimacy and warmth. I do too. But it is never easy for people like us, siha. However, merely because the path is difficult does not mean it is not worth taking. I can see you one day, happy and free from your burdens. I know it is possible."

She was quiet for a few moments as she pondered his words. It was one thing to say that he would be there; it was another to actually be there. But she appreciated the thought. His hope, so precious, was almost heartbreaking. Thane, who should regret more than any of them, held on to the most. She felt her anxiety ebb away, and marveled at how, once again, Thane had known exactly what to say to her. Perhaps that was why they got along so well. They had both lost so much. But that one word...

"I think my translator just glitched. Siha?"

Thane smiled at her and his fingers pressed a bit more on hers. "Someday I'll tell you what it means."


He escorted her to the entrance of her cabin—the hour was late, but she didn't mind. "Thanks for the meal, Thane. You were right—I needed to get out."

That tension was there again, and Thane seemed nervous, antsy even. "I enjoyed our time together. You are a fascinating woman, Shepard. I do not wish to overstep my bounds, but I find myself considering you as a friend. I hope we can continue our conversations both during my time here on the Normandy and beyond."

He was so polite, hands clasped behind his back, standing straight and formal. A friend? He was certainly easier to talk to than Garrus—who was too busy calibrating anyway—and unlike Tali she didn't feel a mother's instinct toward him. Friends? Perhaps. "I hope we can too—having you as a friend—perhaps more than a friend—is unexpected, but welcome."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she could have smacked herself for the double interpretation. More than a friend—she meant as a confidant, an adviser, but it could mean so much more... A small voice piped up to suggest that perhaps her slip was more Freudian than she realized, but she shoved it unceremoniously down.

Thane blinked at her words and inclined his head slightly. "More than friends? That is... intriguing."

She wanted to backpedal, wanted to clarify, but she just stood dumbly, unable to make her voice work for her. He reached out to her face, and for one terrifyingly beautiful moment, Shepard believed that he would cup her cheek in that foreign hand, but he moved past her face to tuck one errant strand of hair behind her ear. Small parts of her, irrationally, wanted him to touch her. It was wrong; it was foolish; it was probably the wine.

But as he left, murmuring goodnight to her and wishing her pleasant dreams, the heat of his slight touch burned on her as surely as if he had branded her.