A/N: Dragon Age: Inquisition comes out tomorrow and I may very well get too distracted to update for a few days, so I'm putting this up early. Enjoy!

James woke with a numb arm and an unfortunate male morning problem. As nice as it had been to sleep with Shepard in his arms, the bed was far too small for two people to sleep even remotely comfortably. He was stiff and sore and had to pee. He rose awkwardly, nearly falling off the edge of the bed.

Shepard sat up behind him. Damn. He'd been hoping to extricate himself before she woke.

She scrubbed a hand over her scalp. "Mornin', sunshine. Did you really think that would work on me? Soldier, remember? If I slept that soundly I likely wouldn't be alive."

James shifted on his feet and slid his hands into his pockets, trying to draw attention from…

"You don't need to be embarrassed. It wouldn't be the first time a man woke next to me with an erection." She stared pointedly at his crotch. "Hell, wouldn't even be the first time you've done it."

James face turned scarlet. His ears felt like they were on fire. "Look, Shepard. I really have to pee, so…"

She waved him off to the washroom, smirking all the while. Her iron will held out and her shoulders only started shaking in quiet mirth after the door closed behind him. He was a man, and these things happen, but she couldn't resist. Besides, it broke the tension. The clock above the door read oh-twelve-hundred. She'd gotten a good night's sleep. But James wasn't the only one who desperately had to pee. Not to mention that she had pretty high caloric needs on the best of days, never mind after she'd seriously overtaxed her biotics. She'd be eating like a horse for days.

So she was hungry, and she knew from experience that she had an approximate five-minute-window in which to start eating or she was going to get lightheaded and extremely bitchy. She didn't even bother speaking to James, pushing past him into the bathroom as soon as he opened the door. Likewise on her way back out of the washroom.

"Hey Lola, sorry about earlier. I just…"

"Yeah. It's fine," she replied, breezing past him and into the hallway. He followed with a confused look on his face as she marched up to the front desk. "Tell me you have food for me," she said, halfway between demanding and begging.

The nurse smiled. "We were told to let you sleep, but Dr. Dixon and Ms. Lawson were adamant that food be kept for you at all times. It's in here." She pointed to a cabinet behind her, pulling out a covered tray. Shepard took it, lifting the lid to reveal a heaping, steaming plate of food. She took a long sniff, sighing contentedly. "We keep utensils here. Help yourself whenever." Shepard headed back to their room with her treasure.

The nurse stared after her with a bemused smile. "Good to see she's feeling better. Lieutenant Vega, is it?"

"You can call me James."

"I'm Amanda. We were told to keep food for you as well. She pulled out another tray and handed it to him, along with utensils.

"Oh, thank God," he replied. "Thank-you."

"You're welcome," she said with a smile. He followed Shepard back into the room.

She was already eating, food resting on a holographic tray when he came in. "Food any good?" he asked.

She gave a thumbs-up without looking away from the meal. He chuckled to himself and decided to let her finish in peace. For a small woman, she sure could pack away food. Never know it to look at her, though. Then again, these last few months were the closest James had ever seen to her sitting still. God help the staff in this hospital over the next three weeks. Shepard was not good at relaxing. Even during her incarceration, she'd run or kicked her own ass in the gym on a daily basis. He'd seen her push herself until she almost passed out.

He dug into his own meal as his thoughts circled her.

Shepard was the first to break their comfortable silence, minutes later. "So, got your new orders yet?"

"Not yet. By the end of today, I'd bet. I can't imagine they'll want me sitting for all that time. There's nothing wrong with me," he added with a smirk.

"Jackass," she fired back, lacking vehemence.

"Well, well, well," came a voice from the doorway. "Sleeping Beauty and her charming Prince have finally awakened."

"Very funny, Miranda. Here to torture me?" replied Shepard.

"In a manner of speaking. I'd like to do a few tests."

Shepard mumbled something under her breath and skidded to the edge of the bed. Standing up, she said, "Lead the way, tyrant."

Miranda rolled her eyes and retreated into the hallway.

Which left James at loose ends. He doubted either woman would need him in the lab, so he went in search of a distraction.

He greeted the same nurse from earlier behind the desk. "Amanda." She gave him a friendly smile. "Any chance they have a gym in this hospital?"

She nodded. "Two floors down. I'll get you an access badge."

"Thanks. I'm getting a little bored here. Need to be ready for action when my next assignment comes down."

"Have you seen a lot of action?"

"Mars, Menae, Tuchanka, Thessia. Just to name a few."

"Shit," she said under her breath. "So you were right in the thick of it, huh?"

"Working for Commander Shepard will do that for you."

"So you served on the Normandy during the Reaper war."

"Yup. Even fought a Reaper on foot once."

She gave him an incredulous look. "If you're trying to impress me you need to make it believable. I'm not stupid enough to think you could survive that."

"Okay. You got me. I dodged the Reaper that was trying to step on me and the Commander. There was no fighting involved."

"And you lived?"

"Shepard fed it to a Thresher Maw."

"Fuck. Remind me not to piss her off."

"Just keep the food available and warm. You should do fine. She generally doesn't threaten civilians unless they're being particularly asinine."

"Good to know. Here's the pass I promised you. They can give you directions on floor 6."

He waved the pass by way of thanks and headed to the elevator.

He was directed to a good-sized room with weight benches along one side and a large mat on the other. Against a third wall were walkways with handrails, and another with three steps and handrails. A heavily-sweating man was excruciatingly climbing the stairs with a therapist urging him on. In the far corner were three heavy bags. Aside from that, the room was empty.

James went for the chinup bar first, doing five sets of twenty. He was soaked in sweat and his arms were shaking by the end of the last set. Then he moved on to the leg press. No point in having a strong upper body if your legs aren't can't hold it up. After that on to the heavy bag. By this time he had the entire room to himself.

It felt good to test himself just for the sake of it. Hard work was one thing, but pushing yourself just because you want to be stronger, meaner, faster? That was something else entirely. As much as he prided himself on his physique, he got a lot more out of the satisfying crunch of an enemy's face when he hit them with the butt of his shotgun. Above all else, that was why he trained. To be able to take someone on, hand to hand, face to face, and win.

So he pushed. He pushed himself until his arms shook, sweat soaked his shirt, and his chest heaved. And then he pushed more. So he didn't even notice when he picked up an audience.

Until she cleared her throat. James grabbed the bag, keeping its momentum from knocking him over, and looked at the door.

Shepard had on a clean tank top and dark comfortable pants. Leaning as she liked to in the doorway, she smiled. "Don't stop on my account."

"Enjoying the view, Lola?"

"I think I'm entitled to ogle once in a while."

"In that case, ogle away." He resumed hitting the bag with sharp, short jabs. She watched, fascinated at the way the muscles rippled across his back. She'd seen him pull similar moves in the field, but only ever under layers of heavy armor.

"How did the testing go?"

She moved into the room, standing behind the heavy bag to brace it for him. "Miranda wanted to see how my biotic nodes coalesce without the amp. Took it pretty easy on me. I still had to eat an extra meal afterwards though. The burns are healing already." He hit the bag particularly hard and she grunted. "Not allowed to work out or run for another four days. I have no fucking clue what I'll be doing for three weeks though. I'll be good to go in a week. I'd stake money on it."

"Well, Lola. You're a valuable commodity. So the Alliance isn't going to take any risks."

"Really, Vega? Valuable? Is that why I've been benched for months? I helped take down the biggest threat this galaxy has ever seen, and what do I get? Civilian labour. My abilities are wasted here and the Alliance damn well knows it!" Her voice rose to a shout and she heaved the bag at him and stormed off to the training mat.

"They needed you out there in the city. You saw how valuable you were. The work we were doing is important." He unwrapped his hands as he walked slowly towards her.

"And what about the pirates out there who are terrorising the remaining colonies? The criminal organisations that are seizing control in the power vacuum the Reaper war left? Wouldn't the galaxy be better off if I was out there helping to maintain control, doing what I'm actually good at?"

He closed his eyes as pain shot through his chest. So this is it. This is how it ends. He took a deep, steadying breath. "No, Shepard."

She wasn't going to like what he said next. He only ever used her real name when he was pissed at her. Shepard braced herself for what he was about to say.

"You needed to be in a place where you could do some good, where you could see how everything you did helped people. All you ever get to see is pain and death. And I was afraid that you would put yourself into more and more dangerous situations until battle finally did what the Reaper war didn't."

"You were afraid? What does that have to do with my being sent to volunteer?"

"I went to Anderson."

Son of a motherfucking bitch.

It was a damn good thing she didn't have her amp in, or James would be on the other end of the room, wearing the weight bench. As it was, she had enough biotic energy to pack one hell of a punch. Literally.

It came in the form of a right hook to the jaw.

He landed on his back on the mat a few feet away. He rose to his feet slowly, rubbing the already-spreading bruise there.

"So you're such a fucking expert on me, that your word was enough to get me grounded?" Anger boiled off her in waves as she faced him, fists up. Ready to go another round.

James lowered his hands to his side, palms open and facing her. He took one step, eyes pleading. If she was going to take another swing, he wasn't going to stop her. Which is the only thing that did.

"So what, your stint down here was a goddamn babysitting mission? Suicide watch for poor, deranged Shepard?"

"That's not it, and you fucking know it."

"Do I, Vega? 'Cause what I'm hearing here tells me if it weren't for you I'd be out there," she stabbed at the sky with her finger, "doing what I do best, instead of being coddled down here like a goddamn civilian."

"Anderson wanted me to stay close, keep an eye on you. I won't lie about that."

"Good. You're fucking terrible at it."

"He just wanted to give you time to process all the shit you've been through for the past few years. I was just there as…"

"A convenient shoulder to cry on? So was this a ploy to get into my pants or were you just there to give Anderson the dirt on my psychological state?"

James stepped right up into her space, nose inches from hers. "You gonna play that card, Lola? We slept in the same bed for weeks. Not once did I so much as put a hand astray. Believe it or not, but I actually respect you too much to pull that shit. You know me better." He turned and strode a few feet away, standing there with his back heaving.

The wind went out of her sails. He's right, a traitorous, logical part of herself admitted. That was below the belt. "James," she said quietly, "I'm sorry. You're right. I can be angry about the rest of it, but you were never anything less than respectful. But the fact that you let me confide in you… I thought that was private. Between us. I never would have trusted you if I knew my vulnerability was for public consumption."

His shoulders fell. "Hardly public. I told Anderson. You two are close. Don't argue. I know you trust him. I didn't tell him anything private. Just how you were doing, emotionally."

"What makes you qualified to make that kind of judgement?"

"I want you to live. Shepard, I want you to want to live. Apparently that's qualifications enough for Anderson."

"You lied to me, James. I won't forgive that easily."

"Well you won't have to put up with me for much longer. I'm shipping out tomorrow."

"Got your orders, then?"

He turned to face her. "Not yet. But there's no reason for me to stay, now." Unless you give me a reason.

Give me a reason.

"I think that would be for the best."

He stifled the urge to rub the spot in his chest that suddenly ached. "I'll get my gear out of your room."

When she didn't reply, he moved past her out of the gym. She'd made her choice. Time to move on.

Somehow, he'd always known she'd never really let him in.

"Sorry, Anderson. Cat's out of the bag."

The Admiral dropped his head into one hand, resting his elbow on the desk. "How much damage control am I going to have to do?"

"Be glad you're on the other side of the galaxy. She gave me this." He fingered the purple bruise that had blossomed across his jaw. "I'd hate to see her get court marshalled over this."

Anderson met his eyes through the 3-D interface and chuckled. "I doubt it. She knows better."

"I dunno, Sir. She was pretty damn pissed."

"You're a subordinate and you're both on leave. She knows damn well the worst she'd get for that is a dressing down. Believe me, Shepard is incapable of losing her temper so badly she'd jeopardize her career."

"So decking me was a calculated move then. Nice."

"Give her some time, James. She'll get over it."

James shook his head. "She's the type to hold grudges. You know that."

"If she can work alongside the race that massacred her home, she can forgive you for this."

"Doesn't matter. She doesn't want me here anymore, and I'm pretty sure she'll be fine. I'd like my reassignment."

Anderson nodded. "I actually made arrangements weeks ago. Just waiting for you to be ready." He stood up, leaning his hands on the desk. "You've done good work here. I know this wasn't easy for you, and you knew there would likely be personal repercussions between you and Shepard when it was done. So I'm assigning you to a Spec-Ops squad in South America. They're routing criminal organisations that are trying to seize control there. Plenty of combat. And your uncle is working with them."

James blinked. "Emilio is working with the Alliance?"

"We have plenty of civilian help these days. Guaranteed food and board is ample incentive. Emilio Vega has combat experience and familiarity with the region, so he's helping us out. I figured the least the Alliance could do to repay you for this assignment, was to let you work with family."

"I can't say how much I appreciate that, Sir. I haven't seen my uncle in years. Thank-you."

"Your transport will arrive at eleven-hundred tomorrow."

"I'll be ready, Sir."

"I'll be contacting Shepard directly from here on out. Thank-you for your service, Lieutenant."

James snapped to a salute. "Glad to be of service, Sir."

"Anderson out."

James closed down the feed from his terminal. So this is it. The end of our time together. Off to a combat region, and working alongside Emilio, to boot. James cracked a smile. His uncle was the reason he'd joined the Alliance. If it weren't for that man, he'd likely be in jail right now.

Or dead, come to think of it. James had spent so much time unsure of whether his closest relative was alive or dead. Now he'd get to see him again, face-to-face. It would be a welcome distraction from the ache in his chest.

Shepard had said that the Normandy was her home. For him, it was Emilio.

Tomorrow, he was going home.

Shepard slept that night alone for the first time in weeks. She slept fitfully, waking out of sorts throughout the night with the niggling feeling that something was wrong.

And in the morning when she woke, she woke in a blind panic.

He's leaving. He's leaving because you sent him away.

Fuck. She was going to need to speak with Anderson.

She took a quick shower and grabbed her breakfast from behind the desk before returning to her room. She ate the food in a rush, barely noticing its taste or texture. Finished, she set aside her platter and brought up her omni-tool interface.

Contacting the Normandy was easy. Far easier than it ever should have been, truth to be known. But Shepard was well aware that EDI kept tabs on all her old crewmates. And she would allow the message from an old friend through, regardless of rank or clearance.

"EDI, you there?"

The familiar sight of EDI's chrome-and-black mobile platform appeared in a flat image before Shepard. She sat in the co-pilot's seat in the cockpit of the Normandy. The android's face broke into a smile. "Shepard! It's good to hear from you."

"You too, EDI. Suffering any ill effects from the Catalyst?"

"Very few remain. Some memories around the termination of the Reaper war I couldn't recover, but Anderson has allowed me access to Alliance records to fill the gap. I am once more myself, and back to full duties as the Normandy's shipboard AI."

"Did the Alliance give you any hassle now that your status as Artificial Intelligence rather than Virtual intelligence is out?"

"Many of the Normandy's crew were adamant that I stay on in that capacity, and Admiral Anderson backed them."

"Damn straight they did. There's no Normandy without EDI," a male voice piped in from off-screen.

"Hey, Joker. How is Anderson treating you?"

"He's a stickler for rules and a pain in the ass to work for. We miss you, Shepard. When are you coming back?"

"At this rate I'll be too old and weak to hold a gun by the time they clear me for active duty," Shepard bitched. "Don't count on my getting her back any time soon."

"Sorry to hear that," he replied, sounding sincere for once. "You'll be kicking ass and taking names before you know it."

"Maybe," Shepard replied, "but ships are hard to come by these days, so it may be a long time before I get back to Spectre duties."

"Well the Alliance and the Council would be insane to bench you for much longer."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Joker."

"Sorry to interrupt, but I assume this isn't a courtesy call?" EDI interjected.

"Yeah, EDI. I'd like to speak to Admiral Anderson whenever he's available."

"One moment." After a short pause, she added, "The Admiral is in his quarters. He can speak with you now."

"Thank you. It was nice talking to you again. You too, Joker."

"Say hi to James for me," he added.

"Yeah, uh…" Shepard replied.

"Wait, is there something…"

"Patching you through," EDI interrupted.

"Hey, EDI that's not…" the feed cut out for a split second and Anderson's face appeared where EDI's had been.

"Shepard," Anderson started warily, "I've been meaning to speak to you directly."

"What about?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

"Your next assignment."

She let out the breath she'd been unconsciously holding with a whoosh.

"I was going to call you out for meddling in my personal life but if you're about to tell me I'm cleared for combat as soon as my amp's back in, I'll forgo it."

"Not exactly." David Anderson leaned back in his chair, bracing for Shepard's temper.

"Well, then." She crossed her arms over her chest and met his eyes with her old fire. He stifled the urge to smile. It had been a long time since she'd had that look in her eyes. Not that he'd ever admit it to her, but it looked like his plan had worked.

"Since when is my personal life any of your business?" she asked, her words clipped.

"Since I rescued you from a Batarian attack when you were sixteen years old. Since I went to bat for you when you tried to enlist. Your psychological profile left people pretty damn concerned whether you could handle life in the military without losing it. Since I personally put forth your name as a candidate for first human Spectre. I care about you, Shepard. So when someone whom I trust, who knows you, comes to me and expresses concern about your mental state and emotional health, you'd better damn well believe it I'm going to take steps."

"You could have come to me. You know that, David."

"And what would you have done, Frieda? If we'd gone through proper channels you would have been locked down same as you are now, but with daily psych appointments. I thought a few weeks or months working alongside civilians to actually build something would do the same good, but with less resistance from you."

"And James?"

"James cared enough to bring his concerns to me. And stand by them when I challenged him. He was willing to potentially sacrifice his career because he was worried about you. Which was enough for me to trust him to stand by you and help you through this. Was I wrong?"

A muscle twitched in her jaw. "Now that I know that he was there by your orders, how can I trust that anything we shared in that time was real? His entire purpose in being there was to report back to you. I'm surprised he managed to keep up the act without going insane."

"Act, Shepard? One of the reasons I trust Lieutenant Vega where you're concerned, is that he has feelings for you. You hadn't noticed?"

"I…"

Anderson smiled warmly. "I wondered if you felt the same."

"Look, Anderson, I don't have time for…"

"Just because you got burned once, doesn't mean that it's not worth risking again. You deserve to be happy. Professionally and personally. Not everyone will turn their back on you when things get rough."

"I'm a good soldier. What does my social life, or lack thereof, have to do with how I can do my job?"

"Shepard, I want you happy. You're more than just a soldier to me, and you damn well know it. I hid from my feelings for a long time. By the time I realised how important Kahlee was to me, it was almost too late. If you hadn't gone to Grissom Academy when you did, it would have been."

Her expression softened. "How is Kahlee?"

"She's doing well. Helped her students transition to their placements, along with dealing with the death of Jack and some of their fellow students. She'll be transferring onboard the Normandy next week."

"That's great news for the both of you. Congratulations."

"But…" Anderson waited for the other shoe to drop.

"I'm not ready for that. Not now. Maybe not ever."

"You survived the end of the world. You lived. It's time to start living. Focusing only on the next battle will only get you so far. One day you may end up like I did: waking up one morning to the realisation that for all the good work you've done, you're old. And alone. I don't want that for you."

"I don't want that either. But for now, I'm just trying to figure out who I am after everything that's happened over the last few years. I still need time for that."

"It's good that you can talk about it. I'm proud of you, Shepard."

"The best way to show your pride is to give me my gun back."

Anderson chuckled. "Not quite yet. Unfortunately."

"Seriously? What the hell is holding me back now?"

"As you well know, galactic government is in shambles. The races have been focused on their own worlds, but we're starting up the process of remaking the Galactic Council from scratch. I and the Alliance would like you to be part of the process."

"No fucking way am I giving up my gun for good to go into politics. No offense," she added, looking contrite.

He laughed. "No, I understand completely. I hate that I've stolen your ship, but it's damn good to be back in action. I hate politics. Good thing for you, I'm not asking you to be on the Council. I'm asking you to be a part of the process to create a new one."

"Why me? I seem to recall there's another human Spectre out there. He'd be a damn sight better at politics than I am, anyways."

"You've fought with, against, and alongside almost every race in the galaxy. You've helped broker peace between races who've feuded for over a thousand years. And you've put aside your own feelings for the greater good. There's no one else I trust more to help recreate the galactic government. Besides, Alenko's busy tracking down remnants of Cerberus."

"You know I could do that job," she spat angrily.

"Damn straight you could. But he got out of the last battle with the Reapers uninjured, and his mental state wasn't in question."

Her eyes narrowed.

He raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, you'd been through a lot. You needed some down time. Between the time Kaidan spent in the hospital after the attack on Mars, and the six weeks stranded, he'd already gotten plenty. At the time, he was the better choice for the assignment. Besides, regardless of his experience working with other species, everyone knows he was working under your orders. They trust you, Shepard."

She sighed. There was no point in arguing now. It still rankled that Kaidan was out there kicking Cerberus ass while she had to make nice with the aliens. "So what are we talking here?"

"As soon as your doctor says it's safe to travel, you go to the Citadel and spend a few weeks as part of a task force, deciding who will be on the Council, and how the new government will work."

"I do have a few ideas on that, now that you mention it," she replied dryly.

"That's what I thought."

"So a few weeks? Then I get to be a soldier again?"

Anderson nodded. "It might be a while before you resume your Spectre duties as before. The Alliance is in the process of trying to get you an appropriate ship. Nothing so big as the Normandy, but something with guns and a crew complement of four or five. Not what you're used to, but enough to get back to work. Unfortunately, ships are hard to come by these days. It might take a few months."

"But I get cleared for combat in what? A few weeks, then?"

"Two months at the very most."

"Fine. I'll do it. Those stuffed-shirt politicians will need someone to get their asses in gear anyways."

"Glad to hear it. I'll contact your doctor and find out how long it'll be until we can get you to the Citadel."

"Ask Kaidan to save a few for me."

"I'll be sure to pass along the message."

"Hey, before you go, I need to know when Vega's transport debarks."

Anderson cocked his head. "Any particular reason?"

"I don't want him to leave with things between us like this."

"Is there something you should be telling me?"

"Only that he was a friend yesterday and I don't know if he still is today. If I can, I'd like to speak to him again before he's gone." For good, she added silently. Her eyes begged him to help her. He was the closest thing she'd had to a father for the last sixteen years.

"He leaves at oh eleven hundred."

Shepard glanced at the clock. She had two hours. It was enough. Now to go find him.

"Thank you," she said again.

He nodded and cut the feed. "Go get him," he whispered to himself with a faint smile.