"Shepard-Commander. You have succeeded."

Legion's acknowledgement was a comforting sound as Shepard shook herself from the fog of the consensus. She gingerly stepped from the pod which had linked her to the geth in ways she had not thought possible.

The experience had opened her eyes.

She had always prided herself on her ability to see things from alternative points of view. It was a lesson ingrained in her from her militaristic father. He had staunchly refused to answer her relentless questions as a child about his experiences fighting in the First Contact war, and it was only after Elysium that she had gained her true understanding of his physical and emotional scars. Yet he had been equally as adamant about ensuring that his only daughter learned the lessons he seemed to think his own superiors had grossly neglected.

And so she had pored over the detailed intricacies of military history and diplomacy, studying the great battles and the great generals from both Earth and galaxy codices, with her father's unwavering insistence that she try to understand each battle and each decision from all sides, not just the side that told the story.

She had failed to see the geth as anything but the enemy, in her first encounters with them. She hadn't applied her father's lessons to them, because she hadn't thought she needed to. They weren't just any enemy, they were synthetics. But her experiences with Legion had changed her perception. And now her experiences with the consensus had changed it yet again, and her gaze met Legion's optic with newfound understanding.

The platform she had named Legion, which she had often enough thought of in terms of he and him in ways that might have made her superiors cringe in discomfort, had always been able to communicate in subtle ways that still managed to surprise her. When faced with her unrelenting stare, the shutters around his optic flared slightly in a gesture she instinctively read as questioning.

She was about to answer the question in his unspoken expression when movement in her peripheral vision caused her to turn, and she stiffened in shock at the sight that greeted her. She crushed her natural instinct to draw her weapon, knowing that it wouldn't even matter.

Shepard had rarely found herself in close proximity to a Geth Prime. The few times she had, smoke and gun-blast and adrenaline and biotic energy had often blurred the rather intimidating effect the large platform made with its appearance.

Finding herself surrounded by several dozen of the platforms had been harrowing. They were intimidating even after they had claimed to be allies. The knowledge that the Prime approaching her now, on the surface of Rannoch, was also an ally still did not prevent the ingrained thrill of momentary alarm. Followed quickly on the heels of that alarm was another rush of feeling.

Hope.

She squared her shoulders, refusing to look behind her but knowing that the crumpled platform she would always consider friend and ally, regardless of how insane that might make her in the eyes of humans and quarians alike, lay inert and motionless.

Legion had never been wrong in his calculations. The platform had provided her with unerring information and knowledge, and had saved her life more than once. She knew it was important to give her crew the same loyalty they bestowed upon her, and Legion was part of her crew. She was in the habit of trusting in the information he gave her. But emotions were a tricky business, and in this particular moment she couldn't help but doubt the truth of his last words.

Direct personality dissemination is required. Shepard-Commander, I must go to them. I am…I'm sorry. It is the only way.

Legion had spoken the words mere moments before crumpling to the ground, and Shepard had felt a rush of grief at the sight of yet another sacrifice among so many in this grueling war. So when the Prime stood before her, she couldn't stop the question falling from her lips even though she knew in her heart that her hope was a false one.

"Legion?"

James couldn't even pretend to be interested in the gun mods scattered on his workbench in disorderly heaps. His interest was held captive by the newly returned shuttle and its precious cargo.

He knew she had survived her totally insane one on one battle with a Reaper, but the lump of terror that had lodged itself in his throat refused to dissipate. He hoped that the sight of her would finally relieve him of his worry, and so he observed her closely as she disembarked, flickering over the familiar pieces of her armor and checking for burns or dents or any other indications of injury. His gaze found nothing of immediate concern, and so shifted to her face, checking for indications of anything else. The crew had given over to the feeling of victory and celebration after receiving the news of what she had accomplished that day, but she didn't look very victorious to him.

She looked weary, and tired, and he was slightly surprised when her gaze shifted immediately to him in return, as if finding him was her first priority upon re-entering the Normandy, even though he knew she needed to de-brief after her mission.

He was equally surprised when she sent him a wan smile and began a slow approach in his direction. His relief to see her alive washed away the terror and alarm he had previously felt, leaving in its wake a darker, more dangerous emotion.

Her eyes widened when she finally stood before him, as she saw his now thunderous expression.

"Soloing a Reaper, Shepard?" His voice echoed sharply in the cargo hold, and she flinched as if he had struck her.

"I did what I had to do. It was the only way." She looked wary and defensive now, instead of happy to see him. He felt instantly contrite, and rushed to reassure her.

"I know. You're right. I was...I was just worried. What I meant to say, was that you did a helluva thing."

Her eyes had softened, but her shoulders were still stiff. He made a quick decision that his pride could use the beating his body didn't get while sitting out the recent mission.

"I also meant to tell you, actually I've been meaning to tell you for quite some time, that I'm kind of an asshole. And an idiot."

"You are not an asshole." She did smile then, and she looked like she was about to continue, but her eyes shifted down and her brow furrowed. "What is that?"

He looked down at the gun in his hand. He had unconsciously used it to gesture to himself to emphasize his point regarding the idiot in the room, and the muzzle still rested softly against his chest. Now that he felt more relaxed he was able to see it through her eyes.

The Mattock assault rifle was a mess. The precision scope looked to be shimmied on backwards, which he hadn't even known was possible, and the piercing mod he had been working on was dangling limply to the side, likely due to his attempt to force fix it with a hand made heavy by worry and distraction. It was a stark reminder of where his mind had been.

So much for hoping she'd also claim he wasn't an idiot. He sent her his best sheepish grin.

She looked like she was trying not to laugh, but she wasn't doing a very good job. "I did say you could clean my gun, James, but I think I'll do the job myself. I don't want my baby anywhere near whatever you're workin' on."

He quickly turned and set the gun on the bench. When he was finished hiding his handiwork from her gaze, he leaned back and folded his arms over his chest, and tried to keep his face stern.

"You know I do good work, Lola. Hand that baby over."

She shook her head. He could still see the concern and grief in her eyes, but she was at least smiling now, with that hint of playfulness he'd seen shining in her on rare occasions when she let down her guard. He reached for her and gave her arm a tug, pulling her into his embrace to welcome her back in the same fashion that he had told her good morning. She looked surprised, but she was worn out from a long day, and her reflexes weren't fast enough to counter his swift maneuver. He ignored the sight of Cortez turning towards them in his peripheral vision. His eyelids swept down to shut out the rest of the world, until there was only the feel and the taste of her.

He remembered the kiss they had shared after Tuchanka. She'd been in her armor and covered in the grime and scent of battle, but it hadn't mattered. As he felt her lips soften under the pressure of his mouth, her tongue darting out to lick over his lower lip, he knew it didn't matter in this moment either. The woman could probably wage a war in a sewage cistern and he'd still blissfully kiss her afterwards.

He could feel her armor scraping against his chest through the comparably whisper-thin fabric of his shirt. The hardened shell of separation only served to intensify the heated fervor of their connection, their lips the only point of skin-to-skin contact. He growled into her mouth in frustration, knowing his burgeoning desire would not be sated in their current location, and he tried to re-gain some of his control.

Her own answering moan didn't help, nor did the feel of her tongue sweeping into his mouth to graze against the edge of his teeth. She pressed herself more tightly to his chest, and his hand fell from her arm to sweep around her waist, until he was distracted by the feel of a protrusion of metal.

She looked flushed when he finally pulled away, but her soft, contented smile quickly fell from her face when she saw her gun in his hand.

"You sneak!" Her eyes were dancing despite the gasp of accusation in her tone.

He arched a brow and put his arm behind his back, keeping the gun out of her grasping hands, and tried to speak in as paternal a tone as he could manage. Which was exceedingly difficult with his arousal straining the seam of his pants.

"You should head up to your de-brief, Shepard. Hackett will want a full report. You don't want to keep your superior officer waiting."

She sent him a withering look that silently and effectively communicated just how amazingly he would be paying for his antics later, and started to turn from him. His previous pent-up worry and relief and a coil of other emotions made dangerous James feel like living on the edge, and before he could stop himself he gave her a playful swat on the rump to send her on her way.

She didn't look back, but he found he didn't really care in the least if he paid for that one later as well. He bit his lip to hide his smile, and sent a saucy salute to Cortez, who was trying to pretend not to look, and failing miserably, earning a laugh for his effort. He turned again to the workbench, sizing up the gun he had half-jokingly promised to clean with renewed interest.

Shepard stood outside the door to the Observatory and tried to ignore the knot of tension in her back. A few years ago, such a victory over a Reaper would have brought a celebration high that might have lasted more than a shuttle ride back to the Normandy. Her mind flickered to her defeat of Sovereign in the Citadel. She'd suffered more injuries in that fight, a broken arm, dislocated shoulder, a few shattered ribs, but for some reason she still felt better after that battle than she did at the moment.

She knew the war was getting to her, picking away the layers of strength and pride and confidence and leaving her weary and jaded. Defeating one Reaper didn't seem the same victory that it used to be, with so many others lined up to take its place. She tried to focus instead on their other victory that day. A cease-fire between the quarians and the geth. That was something to take pride in. Her father would have liked that one.

She squared her shoulders at his memory. She could just imagine him chastising her for her despondency. Her mother had always been the brilliant strategist, but it was her father who had been brilliant for people, encouraging them, inspiring them, keeping them on their toes. And now she had her own people, her wonderful crew and loyal companions, and it was her responsibility to keep them at their best, which meant making sure they only saw her unwavering confidence and support.

Starting now, with the one on the other side of the door. She entered to find Kaidan staring out at the stars. He did not turn at her arrival, and his words almost gave her the impression that he might have been speaking his thoughts to himself.

"It all seems so calm from here. There are people going through hell in a million different ways…out there. And I want to be fighting alongside them, but…I want to be here." He finally turned to face her, a questioning look on his brow. "You know?"

"Sure." She did know, but she also knew she couldn't fight all the battles at once. His initial comment made her wonder if he was thinking of people in general, or people in a more personal sense. "Thinking of anyone specific?"

"I heard from my mom, Shepard. My dad is MIA. He reported for active duty, and he's presumed..." He trailed off, his meaning clear. "It's all we know, but it's, uh…it's enough. My mom's alone in this now. In all…this."

The anguish she saw in his eyes reflected her own grief and loss. "I feel for you Kaidan, and I'm glad you told me. There's strength in camaraderie. And empathy."

He nodded and moved closer to her side. "Thanks. You're right. I don't know how you do it Shepard, keeping it all together like you do. Earth is always in the back of my mind, haunting me."

She almost saw herself in his eyes, as they stared deeply into her own, and she felt the latent challenge he was giving her. She decided not to fight it anymore. She couldn't pretend, not in front of him. Not after Ilos. He already knew she wasn't always all together.

"It haunts me too. I've been having nightmares. I'm chasing a little boy through the darkness, and when I see his face...I watched him die, Kaidan, and I couldn't save him. So many that I can't save, and yeah, it haunts me."

His brows shot up at her soft confession. "I'd tell you that you don't have to take this all by yourself, but I think we've already had that talk."

"You were right the first time. I'm trying to find my own sanity-checks, here and there, that must count for something."

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You found someone to lean on a little. It wasn't the someone I had in mind, but…" He stopped again and trailed a hand through his hair, before continuing in a fiercer tone. "Look, Shepard, I just want you to know that if you manage to find some sliver of happiness in this shitstorm, I think you should grab onto it and never let go. Even if it's not with the someone I had in mind."

Her own mind jumped at his abrupt change of course in their conversation, and his language. He was usually so proper in his speech. She found herself bereft of speech herself, as he continued.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. I loved you in the middle of our own little shitstorm and I never told you. And then you died. And then there was…all this. Sometimes I think things just weren't meant to be. And maybe I was a fool to think otherwise."

She was about to interrupt him, but he silenced her with a look that allowed for no argument.

"Shepard, don't make the same mistakes I did. Joker likes to mock me for being uptight, but he has a point. I held things back. I locked myself up. And I lost something important because of that. Don't keep what you feel with Vega all bottled up inside. You'll only be filled up with regrets later."

He had paced in front of the window during his impassioned speech, but he stopped and met her eyes again at her indrawn, surprised breath. "Don't look so surprised that I know. I'm not blind, and this is a small ship. And maybe I know you a little better than you think. The point is, don't let yourself lose out on what you've found."

Shepard felt stunned. There was a freeing kind of relief in her chest, and a lump of another emotion entirely, stuck in the back of her throat. She knew that her concerns as commander were only part of her reasons for holding back the feelings she'd long suspected she held for James. But guilt was holding her back as well, stemming from her short-lived relationship with Kaidan, and all that they had endured from that moment forward.

Most of it was out of her control, but she couldn't help but feel at fault. Men who got involved with her got hurt, whether she meant it or not, and the evidence of that fact was standing not two feet from her, with the forgiveness and understanding in his eyes that she had longed for since Horizon.

"I'm sorry, Kaidan, for everything. And...thank you. In so many ways I would never have gotten this far without you. We've got some tough battles to go, and I'm glad to know you're at my back."

"Don't worry about me, Shepard. You know, when this war's over, there's going to be one hell of a celebration. My mom's always wanted to travel off-planet. I think I'll take her."

"I think she'd like that."

He smiled at her response, and turned from her to look out again at the vast, calming expanse of stars. His last comment called out to her as she departed.

"Don't tell Joker I said he was right about me. I'll never hear the end of it."