A/N: So I just noticed that my page breaks failed to format across. Serves me right for not double-checking. I don't feel like pulling all of the previous chapters, but I'll try to make sure the breaks between scenes are in the rest from here on. P.S. I live for feedback.

James stood at Vancouver's makeshift transit station. Dozens of people bustled around him, the whirr of shuttles coming and going a constant background to the more distinct murmur of voices. Where once this would have been indoors, automated and filled with ships and transports of all sizes, now it was an open field, surrounded with holo-fence and the transports were almost exclusively small, Kodiak-sized transports, which could only carry 14 passengers. If they really liked each other.

His shuttle to South America was scheduled to arrive in twenty minutes. On to a new life. Time to put all this behind him. Six months of guarding the Commander. Six months of following her into Hell. Six weeks of thinking she was dead. And two months of being there for her as she fell apart.

But she was done falling apart. She'd been putting herself back together for a while now. She didn't need him anymore. And he was done with waiting for her to figure it out. He had no regrets. He'd done what he could. If she wasn't willing to accept that…

No more. Time to move forward. Twenty, no… eighteen minutes to his future.

And then he heard her voice. He closed his eyes, steeled himself against the hope and pain the sound of her calling his name brought. He turned.

"Vega!" She dropped her hands to her knees, out of breath. "Fuck. I was afraid I'd miss you. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to sneak out of a high security military base?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Was there something you wanted to say, Shepard?"

She hadn't expected this would be easy, but his chilly reception ate at her.

"After everything we've been through, I didn't want things to end like they did."

"You asked me to leave. I'm leaving. What do you want?"

Her gaze fell. Fuck, I'm terrible with people. Where's a goddamn gun when you need it?

"I don't like being manipulated. I thought you were just there to report back to Anderson. I was wrong, wasn't I?"

"Damn straight. I was there because I care about you. But Shepard, you made damn clear you don't need me anymore. So I'm going."

"I don't want you to leave with us like this."

"Maybe you should have thought about that yesterday. I'm going. In…" he glanced up at the nearest holo-display "…ten minutes."

"I care about you too, James." Her stomach roiled at the declaration. It was one of the most terrifying things she'd ever said.

"So where does that leave us, Lola?"

She looked so lost, so alone. The confession of her feelings clearly didn't exactly make her happy.

"I don't know."

"I could get on that transport, go back to my life, and we could pretend this never happened."

"Or?" she countered.

He stepped towards her, stopping when only a hair's breadth separated them. "Kiss me. Right here. Right now."

She stepped back, huffed out a frustrated breath. "So those are my choices? Leave things the way they stand, or start a relationship with you? Here in front of all these people?"

"I'm getting on that transport, Shepard. I am leaving in minutes. So yeah. If you ever want to hear from me after that, I need something to go on."

"I don't take extortion well." She took another step back.

"Don't I know it." He glanced up at the nearest readout. "Looks like my ride is here. Been nice knowing you, Lola. Have a nice life." With that parting shot, he bent and lifted his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he turned and walked away.

She stared after him, anger and pain and despair coursing through her. She'd fucked it up. Again. Just like she always did.

He only made it a few paces before he stopped. Dropped the bag. Turned around and came to stand before Shepard once again. Nose to nose, intensity flashing in his eyes. "You know what, Lola? No. If you're going to let me go, you're going to damn well know what you're missing." His mouth crashed down over hers.

She froze in shock, mouth agape. Which he took full advantage of, angling his head and sealing his lips with hers, sweeping his tongue inside.

Her shock didn't last long. She'd wanted this for as long as she could remember, somewhere deep and buried inside where she'd refused to acknowledge it.

She gave as good as she got: anger and betrayal and fear pouring out in a clash of teeth, fingers digging into his shoulders. He nipped at her lips and his hands kneaded her scalp.

He lost himself in the kiss. The world faded beyond the feel of her hands, her lips, her tongue. Something beat like a drum in his chest and he couldn't tell if it was his heart or hers. For a moment it didn't matter.

She'd wanted him for so long. Wanted something just for herself. Not for the galaxy. Not for the greater good. Just for her. And for a moment, this moment, she took what she wanted. Him. James.

The idiot who deflected his feelings with flirtation. The soldier who never gave anything less than everything he had. The man who'd stood beside her when everyone else left.

On Mars, when the man she'd loved stood among the ranks of her accusers. James had been there. On her side. Always.

And then he broke away. He stood there, face inches from hers as he stared into her eyes. His hands moved to her shoulders, holding her closer and keeping them separated all at once. The depth of his unspoken feelings shone from those green eyes.

And then it was gone. Shuttered behind closed lids. When they opened once more, there was no hint of what they'd held a moment ago .

She stood there, dumbfounded by the rollercoaster of emotion she'd just been bombarded with.

He stood straight. Let go of her shoulders. Turned on his heel, walked back to his duffel. Threw it back over his shoulder.

And walked away.

He didn't pause. Didn't turn. Didn't look back at her. Not even once.

She stood there, staring at his retreating back. She didn't look away until long after he was gone.