~ Finding The Heart ~

Parallel And Compliment

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the intellectual property of Bioware, not mine.

WARNING: Rated MA. 16yrs+ readers only please! Foul language, adult concepts.

Author note: I've purposefully tried not to describe Shepard too much, after all, fans of Mass Effect will each have their own versions of Shepard, so I leave those parts up to your imagination.

"...THERE IS NOTHING OF 'ME' ... LEFT!"

- Zaeed roared, the veins standing out on his face as it turned beet-red before he buried his head in his hands. Shepard, who consistently found that her only response to aggression in any given situation was to assert her authority on the matter, heard herself yelling back. Although to her credit, at least hers was a controlled outburst: to remind him only that she could yell, just as loudly as he could when she wanted to.

"YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME." She gritted her teeth. Softer then: "You're still you, Zaeed! You're still you!" She shook at his shoulders with both hands. "You're still the same goddamn unyielding, get-things-done wily son-of-a-bitch I met on Omega! Except now you can use what you are and do what you like with it. You want to go bring down the Council in a hail of bullets or an orchestrated campaign of terror?" She pulled a nonchalant expression and shrugged: "I figure if anyone could pull that off, might be you, although you'd probably have to get through me first. Hell maybe you want to go teach military strategy at Grissom Academy?" She shook her head. "Might have some trouble getting you in there, but I reckon you'd be a fucking formidable teacher – no discipline issues in your classes."

She poked him sharply in the chest so that he would finally raise his eyes to hers, albeit only to glare back at her.

"Not having Vido around just means you get to use the skills that made you capable of being who you've been, for purposes that you can now decide for yourself. You're free now, to make that whatever you want it to be." - The flicker of hope came and went in his eyes, then he almost choked, laughing at the irony.

"Oh." He said, cheerfully. "- Free. End of my life and I get to do what I want with it eh? Goddamn fucking fantastic." He grinned sarcastically – it wasn't a friendly grin – as he stretched to put his arms behind his head. Clenching and unclenching his fists as he brought them down again hard on his knees, he grunted: "My whole fucking life... was a waste of time."

"No it wasn't." Shepard frowned and shook her head.

"Nothing in it was real!" He frowned back.

"No! Some of it was real!" She yelled. " She grabbed his hands and forcibly held them in hers. She purposefully squeezed until he winced, although he still looked away. Then she let go one hand and reached for his face. Gently she placed her fingertips against the skin on the un-scarred side for comfort as his eyes turned a brief glance toward her of wary anger before looking away. She leaned towards him and quietly told him:

"There are some things... that were real." She stared at him until he met her gaze. His eyes watered. She pleaded with her own, but then her mind sought diversion from what she truly wanted to say...

"... Alice..." Her eyes flickered as she blinked, losing her nerve. "...Alice was real. And Uhuru is real. After this I think she might just appreciate an uncle who looks out for her. If nothing else, think of that. She is safe now, because of you!"

"She was only ever in danger because of me!" He growled, "They hurt Alice to get to me!" He broke away from her and shook his head violently. "Everything I touch, I break!" He stabbed his eye sockets with the base of his palms and clawed at his own forehead with his fingernails until the marks stood out red on his skin.

"Not everything." – Quietly. Shepard calmly reached for his hands again, yanking them back down and his head part-way with them. He looked at her. In his eyes she saw fear... But she also found... her courage.

She squeezed his hands again. "You can't break someone who's already been broken." - She heard the words she had intended only to hear herself think, and cringed. Wait – that's not what I wanted to say... Where the hell did that come from?!

She swallowed against the bitterness of having admitted that she felt that way about herself, surprised and confused that it had came out at all. Those last words he'd spoken... Something about them had triggered something. Her mouth seemed then to have a mind of its own – hardwired to her innermost thoughts, bypassing every safety net she'd ever built to stop herself from dwelling on such things.

"I'm about as broken as a person can be Zaeed... and yet still be functional." She shrugged, pulled in a juddering breath and let it go with a lackadaisical smile; quickly turned solemn. She had to look away, but knew she had no choice now but to be frank. She had nothing left to lose: She'd already opened the can of worms.

"I already died once. I'm sure I'll do it again someday, and I don't know how many years are left for this body that Cerberus rebuilt – might well be no more than you have, in an ideal scenario." She shrugged a painful laugh as her eyes watered, determined to meet his:

"I'm a fucking prototype Zaeed, built from my own bits and pieces. If the Reapers don't get me, gods know how long these implants will last."

She realised then that he was listening keenly now. So. He really doesn't know, then. The thought occurred to her as it occasionally did, that not a lot of people knew about the Lazarus Project, and that whenever she said 'I died', people just imagined she was dead for a few hours, or frozen near death or something... somehow resuscitated later. They imagined her off on top-secret missions, successfully managing to navigate the galaxy for nearly two years without anyone figuring out that she was still alive in the meantime. Precious few knew how wrong those assumptions truly were. Funny now in retrospect that Vido had actually been one of the few who knew how truly dead she'd been.

"Truth is you may not know this:" Her eyes flickered as those thoughts somehow found audible expression, the discomfort of letting them out, painted across her face. "...But I was dead - properly dead... for a year or more. 'Meat and tubes'. That's what Jacob said. 'Nothing but meat and tubes.'" She shook her head and looked down at her own body, gesturing with a shrug: "...Everything you see in front of you now, is part-synthetic."

She laughed to say these words at last to somebody: "I'm a reanimated corpse..!" with a feigned zombie impression.

Tears began to spill from her eyes, but she chuckled masochistically at them; dark humour. I should have told him this right from the beginning... She swallowed, and was aware that Zaeed was suddenly sitting very, very still.

"Miranda ran the project." She nodded, and sped through what she knew. "God knows what they did to me, but they brought me back to life. Supposedly all intact. And no control implants," She tapped her temple. "...So Miranda swears, anyway." She shrugged. "I have no idea how long I have to live."

Zaeed flinched, his eyes widened as he frowned, and his mouth gaped in absolute shock – and there was almost pity. That hurt. Despite the disgust she held for herself in that moment, she cast it all aside in one last ditch attempt at bravado:

"But I'll make you a deal..." Shepard looked into Zaeed's eyes with the legendary conviction for which she was best known: "If you can climb your way out of this, if you can decide who you are and what you want, and if you still want... this..." She squeezed his hand, "Then I choose to spend whatever time I do have left, kicking ass and taking names with you at my side or in my bed."

- She had managed an unbroken stare into his eyes as she had said that, and inwardly patted herself on the back for that small triumph. First time ever in her life she'd actually had 'a way with words', but then in the same instant: she faltered. Biting her lip, her shoulders slouched; not wanting to know his reaction. She stared off into the couch, her strength all but completely spent.

Zaeed was lost for words, for once. It hit him like a tonne of canisters: this revelation. It never occurred to him that this 'fit young thing' he'd been shagging for the better part of the last three months might have a life expectancy shorter than his own. So used lying about his own age as he had he become, he was used to just expecting less of himself than everyone else did because of it. All that time he'd been thinking:

'What can I give 'er? A house with a pretty garden, kids and a lifetime of marriage?! Not me. Not with me. She could have that with someone else, but not with me. Galaxy's golden girl'd never be bloody safe enough to have those things with me. And how long for? How many years before dementia or some shitty medical condition sets in and bites me in the backside? Then where'd she be?'

He'd had other thoughts every now and then over the course of their time together, like 'I like nurses as much as the next man, but I wouldn't want my wife to be mine...' and so forth. It never bloody occurred to him that her body might start to break down and fall apart before his did. Why the hell would it?! 'Stunned' wasn't quite enough to describe it. Downright fucking 'shell-shocked' might.

He thought about asking why she didn't tell him before, but realised that was a bloody stupid question before he asked it. He thought about asking for more details, but he knew that was a bloody stupid question too – it sounded like nobody had any answers anyway. Prototype. He thought about everything she'd said. He thought about his own life in context, thought about his 'talents', thought about what he could use them for. Decided she was crazy. But sometimes crazy gets the job done. He should know.

So then he decided – in that moment – that he wanted his life to count for something, at the end of it all. Not to anyone else... He didn't give a damn what anyone else thought his life was worth. He just wanted it to count for something... in her eyes. He'd flirted with that notion before, but compared to now that was just the daydreaming of a dull old fart who'd lost his way trying to admit it. I guess you could say it was more than just wanting that... It was need: he needed more than just to tag along with her in her life. He needed her in his, to become so core a part of it so that one day, he'd feel as if they'd never not been together. That's what he wanted. No... It's about time I damn well fucking admit it: I need her.

Never was any fucking good with words...

He reached for her, pulled her forwards and kissed her deeply, with all the energy he thought (up until that moment) he'd already spent. Slowing the pace of the kiss he pulled away and nudged his forehead against hers. Her lips less than an inch away from his, he waited for her eyes to open and meet his before asking, gruffly:

"That do you for an answer?" as he breathed hard through his nose, almost panting from the adrenaline now coursing through his veins.

Shepard smiled a tired, grateful smile. "It'll do." – and stared deeply awhile into his dichromatic eyes of white and emerald, relieved... Just so very relieved.

She stroked her fingers down the scarred side of his face and this time: he didn't flinch in the slightest. She kissed him, and threw all her passion behind it as he embraced her. He fumbled forwards off the couch, knees smacking down between hers as she sat on the edge of the coffee table. He pulled her arse towards him. Propping one hand on the coffee table, he pressed his body against hers with delirious need that Shepard reciprocated. He was desperately trying to undo her tunic when-

"God DAMN it!" - He swore and began pulling off the irritating waterproofed bandages that were making his dexterity worse than it already was with hands coated in two layers of medigel and after too many hours to count beating a punch bag.

Shepard tried to intervene: "Hey Chakwas said you should leave them on for at least-"

"-I don't fucking care they're comin' off." – Zaeed, breathlessly adamant.

Shepard sighed: "Allow me." - cupping his chin in her hand she got his attention.

She took his battered hands and unravelled them gently. With slow deliberation, she placed the heap of bandages down on the table, turned to face him, and then placed his hands either side of her hips. She began to unbutton her tunic. He watched lustfully after her fingers. She took her time – not coyly, just... sentimentally slow. Pressing her chest up against his purposefully, she shrugged it off her shoulders. All the while, she kept her head not more than an inch from his. She looked into his eyes as she set her tunic aside. He was breathing hard.

She pulled her shirt out from her trousers quickly enough and undid her cuffs, the rest of her shirt followed. Bare skin exposed: even now she still didn't recognise her own skin – there were scars that should have been there, there no longer. Recent conversation fresh in her mind, she couldn't help but flinch, but Zaeed moved his hands from her hips to snug under her shirt around her waist and pulled her close. Fingers of one hand slid up her spine as fingers of the other groped after her behind. He assaulted her neck with hungry teeth, consciously or unconsciously answering her unspoken question:

You're real to me.

Her hands ran through his hair and over his face until he allowed her to remove her shirt, begging then with his thumbs for her to undo her pants. She pulled at his clean vest with clawed fingers in counter-request, paddy-pawing at the muscles there as she playfully ran her thumbs over his nipples, chortling a little at their pertness. Each then quickly set to fulfilling the other's request, and they both abandoned any attempt to slow things down: standing up to undress in desperate haste.

The moment they were done, immediately his hands went to groping her rear as he backed her towards the bed. He breathed her in. It was his favourite scent: that of her skin and the hair along her neck. She chuckled then as she found herself then longing in reciprocation, for the very smell that not twenty minutes ago had been the reason she'd been glad he'd showered. Only the dampness remained, but with a smirk she thought: we'll see to that.

"Wot you laughin' at?" He asked, cheerful but hesitant.

"Oh just the fact that I made you shower, but now I kinda miss the smell."

You're bonkers, you know that?" He said, and backed her a little more towards the bed between kisses.

"Want me to change?" She asked with a lazy half-smile.

"Uhnn..." He groaned in place of shaking his head then released her: "Shut the fuck up and get on the bed." - he grinned, with a gentle tilt of her hips with his hands that suggested (as usual) for her to go on all fours. Shepard hesitated however, and on second thought turned back instead to face him fully.

"Not this time." She said, and reached for the scarred side of his face to slide her fingers down the pits and lines. "Not this time." She affirmed, and anxiousness flashed across his face - the haunting need of the Loading Bay was suddenly back. Seriousness in her eyes, she met his almost plea with a firm grip around his penis, which she then snugged between her legs. I want you – she tried to say with her expression, silently reassuring him. His hands, momentarily unsure as to where to go or what to do, then groped after her muscular behind. The grip between her thighs held him tight enough to feel him moving inside his foreskin as he pressed his hips against hers. Jaw jutting to one side, his eyes locked on her as he repeated the movement, groping after her behind and her waist. His breathing quickened.

"I want to be able to see you." She said, kissing him deeply before backing one knee onto the bed. He paused, and for a moment she worried - he genuinely looked uncomfortable. It seems he thought about it for a moment, ducking his head a little in the interim. Is he... nervous?

"What is it?" She wondered aloud, "Are you afraid I won't like what I see, or something?" She jested light-heartedly and reached up for the scarred side of his face again. Quickly her expression turned sympathetic and kind then; desperate to reassure him. What followed as his reaction, however, completely baffled her: His worry turned feverish, sweat beads broke out over his forehead... but then he bowled her backwards onto the bed. Almost shaking he quickly sought entry, not succeeding... Although Shepard, it has to be said, was rather glad of that, for not entirely having been prepared for such sudden enthusiasm.

"Easy now..." - softly she spoke, "Easy..." and hushed him to calm.

"...Dunno if I can..." His breath shook his body as he exhaled.

"Zaeed..." Anxiously she tried to soothe him, "Zaeed..." She sighed and stroked her fingers through his hair. She smiled up at him: "All these games you play, finding ways for me not to see you." She looked up at him and cocked her head to one side. "What is it you think you're compensating for?" She asked.

"Nothing, I just figured..." But he was too raw for defences.

"You're amazing in bed. I have no complaints. That's not despite what you look like, or who you are. You didn't just 'win me over' with gifts or technique." She smiled and tested the texture of his scars with her fingertips as he hovered above her, searching her eyes for answers.

"First... you earned my respect, by standing and fighting at my side. You did that in spite of the odds, regardless of what we were up against, and you didn't falter." Her fingers caressed the scars that graced his back and sides as she slid her hands down towards his hips. "The details I see on your face and over your body remind me that you have that resolve." She gave his buttocks a playful squeeze. "And the moments I've seen you at your worst? Those are the moments that showed me the kind of man you could be..."

Clearly he didn't know how to take that. She could almost see his confidence plummet. Oh... well shit. He almost seemed to say, as if that were a negative thing she counted against him. She shook her head and smiled at his confusion. She reached for his jaw with one hand, and slid her fingers around his (not quite so hard) erection with the other, smirking coyly as she tried to better make her point:

"... The person you could be if only given the chance for so long your life has denied. Zaeed..." Her voice turned low and seductive, "I've wanted you ever since I saw that first glimpse of who you truly are... Who you are deep down when all the confidence and all the bluster - and everything else your life has taught you to hide behind - is blown away." Biology began to comply as he grew harder from her words, or her attentions, maybe both.

She shrugged. "I saw your walls come tumbling down and seeing them fall somehow brought mine down with them. You found the heart I didn't even know I still had..." She searched his eyes, hopeful, lightly dragging a thumb across his cheek to his sideburn: "...and something tells me... that I did the same thing for you."

"Fucking understatement." - His reaction was a raised brow and semi-scowl, but Shepard smiled gladness up at him.

"Well, I need to know that you want me just as much as you need to know I want you."

"I ever given you reason to doubt?!" He frowned.

Another squeeze with her fingers to make her point: "I want to see you enjoy me," Sliding her fingers down to his scrotum and back up, "- this body of mine," He pulsed between her fingers, she slid her hand up and down the shaft. "...and I want to see it in your eyes: how much you want me." She could feel him harden in her hand. He looked away as he studied her body, and slowly began to rock his pelvis down to her assisting hand.

"Uhnnn..." He groaned, taking in the sight of her, and her words, "Way you talk about me..." ...growing a little harder in her hand, "...fucking makes me feel young again." - another pulse and harder again, "Like when the world was new... and all my whole goddamn life was in front of me." He opened his eyes, finally, and looked into hers:

"You make me feel... alive." Taking hold of himself he allowed her to use both her hands to part herself, ready.

"Well..." She bit her lip as she helped to guide his end until it touched against her. "Mmn..." She murmured in anticipation.

Sweat still beaded on his face when she glanced up, but she slowed his enthusiasm with a gentle squeeze of her thighs. In slow spurts then, he began to press up against her, a little more of her lubricant gathering to him each time. One little push more and she ceased needing to hold him. Her hands and her eyes returned to wander lustfully over his body, taking every detail as never before with his every move.

"You make me feel..." Her voice was breathy as he bade his foreskin behave, inching his way into her,"...Like I'm real." She groaned at the sensation of feeling him move frictionless inside of himself, as his swollen tip pushed deeper into her. He pulled out a little each time, before slowly pushing in deeper in with each thrust. She moaned for what was to come. Deeper -

"You make me feel..." – Deeper –

"...like I'm still..." Deeper still -

"...Human." - Deeper.

She blinked hard, agasp as he withdrew, arching her back as he pulled out that much further. She pushed her pelvis up to meet his return, taking him in as deep as he would go; the pleasure of his pelvis pressing to her clitoris was enough to make her squint and moan.

"Fuck me," He murmured, ever surprised by just how much she managed to turn him on, "I want you." He assaulted her neck hungrily as the pace began to quicken.

"Fuck me I want you too." She exclaimed as he moved - slow strokes - groping after her ass before each thrust. Another groan and he quickened the pace yet more, but he was back to old habits and so was she: arms wrapped arms wrapped around one another, heads buried into each other's shoulders.

You sneaky little bastard... She smiled. Ohhhh no... That's it: you're going on your back this time!

First she bade him slow the pace. Then, tucking her left leg behind his knee whilst raising her right to his hips, she prepared to roll him onto his back... Except he was onto her scheming - that or he really liked that angle. Certainly it almost felt just too good to stop, especially when he groaned into her neck with heightened desire like that.

Oh... Good... God...

With sheer determination though, she managed: she entwined her other leg and then (with brute force) rolled him over with him still inside her. There was an awkward moment of physical adjustment but once she'd sorted out the position of her knees and her placement over him, she placed her hand upon his chest and turned her head to meet his eyes... Whereupon she then froze. He almost looked terrified, although the lust was still there.

"Hey." She said cheerfully taking both his hands in hers in a non-sexy way. "You OK?"

She had a horrible thought then, like maybe the last time he'd had someone on top of him like this, it was something bad. Her face turned to worry.

At least he managed a response: "Yeah but... I uh..." He tried, "Um... Haven't done it this way in a long... long time." He half-laughed, which set her more at ease. She smiled disbelieving with a raised brow, to which he added:

"I ... uh... May not last long..." - it was clear from his face that he really was worried about that. Shepard couldn't help but grin. As if that would bother me after all the other times we've had sex! She shook her head.

"Ohhhh... Well." She rolled her eyes with a toss of her head, "At least that'll make a change. I might even get to sleep at a sensible time, for once." She teased with a wink and a wriggle, placing one hand on the bed just left of his ear, she grabbed a pillow and offered it to him for his head. He took it, hesitantly, before she leaned down and added with a sultry tone:

"Sounds good to me. I rather like the idea of fucking you until I make you cum." She slid her hands down over his body, tracing the scars and hairline before looking up and kissing him.

"Had no idea you could be like that." He said breaking the kiss for breath.

"Yeah well... I wear a lot of hats Mr. Massani." She said with a sly smile as she felt him pulse harder inside her. "Some days I shut down criminals..." She grinned, planting him with a brief but passionate kiss, "Some days I diffuse nukes..." Tilting her head to the other side, another brief passionate kiss then: "Some days I like to enjoy private vices."

She kissed him deeply. Quickly his tongue met hers and he enthusiastically thrust his hips up to meet her pelvis. It was funny – at first he didn't seem to know where to put his hands at all. She released him from the kiss as she rocked her pelvis against him again, this time taking his hands and then – with her own – guiding them over her body... It seemed like for a moment he almost needed her permission to do that - odd on its own. The moment his hands met her skin though, he was gusting breath and groping hard. Faster – he bade her. Faster.

She obliged for a little while then – cruel or not (she considered taunting him with the question) – she smirked rebelliously and slowed the pace. With slow deliberation, she pressed herself against him with tortuously enjoyable pulses, squeezing him internally with each one. She rocked her pelvis against his abdominal muscles, sliding him in and out that way more than lifting herself up and down, as that seemed to give them both the most pleasure.

She thought his head might explode for just how red his face had gone, and he glared up at her, jaw jutting as she did this. He was watching and she made a point of making it clear how much she was enjoying him. She ground her pelvis against him, licked and bit her own lips as she did so, frowning as she exhaled in bursts every other swing of her pelvis - it felt good and she damn well wanted him to know it.

Slowly she moved a little faster, and moaned as she did so. Her hands paddy-pawing at his chest in gropes of her own as his one hand very firmly gripped her ass. She'd lean forward enough for his other to chase after her breast as she rocked. He was enthralled – no doubt about it. He watched her almost unblinking.

His hands and his eyes, wondered over her breasts and down her sides but regularly flicked back to her face, whereupon she met the anxiety that showed with the intent to be very clear about how much she wanted him. She was taking him in as deeply as he could possibly go. She reached behind to very lightly stroke his scrotum with her fingers as she did so. He groaned, mouth wide, and thrust his pelvis up to her as he rammed his head back into the pillow. He must be close now, but she didn't care if he came. She wanted him to, and wanted to feel it, and see it, when he did.

She stopped long enough to lean forward and slide her hand against the scarred side of his face as she smothered his lips with hers. She thrust her tongue against his in rhythm to the throbbing and rocking of her feeling him within. You're damned right I can feel you - was what she said with every motion of her tongue. I can feel you pulsing inside of me. There... There again... Then she'd focus on her own muscular contractions, timing those and her tongue to each swing of her hips with an appropriately hungry groan. Can you feel that?

Her pace quickened and she knew she'd need to release his lips if she was going to see it on his face when he came. He pulled himself up to grasp after her ass with both hands, then with ever-hardening ecstasy building inside her, he worked to push against her in faster and haphazard thrusts that she obliged by keeping still.

He groaned as she felt him give, he collapsed back down against the pillow. She had stared down at him to the last so that she could – for the first time – see his face as he came... And so that he would meet her eyes each time he opened them, after she felt the vibration of fluid gushing up to be released inside of her.

She gave a sly smile, and followed suit herself quickly enough – rocking against him. He gripped her tightly as she came, draining the last of him with him still breathing hard. She groaned and squinted, the pleasure almost too much to bear as her eyes blurred and she came down to hang on her forearms, shaking violently. She continued to wriggle in slow pulses as he too shivered, shuddered and groaned.

She gave him slow, deep, tongueful kisses after that, and he frowned hard for the seriousness with which he kissed her back. His hands – shaky – were all over her: most of all about her face, and she realised his eyes were watering. He tried to sit up, crossing ankles behind her to try to embrace her the more closely. She wrapped her legs around his back and, hugged him as best she could. She realised her own eyes were watering then, too. She laughed joyfully as a tear fell. Then he held her tightly to himself as he lifted her up with his own strength and planted her swiftly and firmly onto her back.

There, he lay between her legs, pressing a pulsing partial erection into her her as he stroked all over her body, lifting one of her knees so that he could get at the skin of the back of her thigh and her ass, all the while kissing deeply into her. It was, she guessed, a thank you. That or he had delusions about finishing twice. It was a while before he gave that up, although it was clear if biology would have allowed it, they'd already be on round two. Eventually he slowed down enough to come to a stop. He stared down at her, she stared up at him, and for a while... the galaxy just... stopped... spinning.

He looked as if he was about to say something, but couldn't find the words. He pulled out, and collapsed then next to her, an arm and a leg across her as he planted his head into her shoulder and neck. He nuzzled into her neck. She wriggled against the thigh resting between her legs in still-aroused self-satisfaction. She held to him as he held to her, like they were each other's lifeline to sanity.

He did, in the end, find something he wanted to say. He cleared his throat to do it, and stroked a hand down the side of her face as he looked first at her lips and then into her eyes when she turned to face him:

"Dunno what you want with a washed-up old mongrel like me," He stroked her hair behind her ear with all but a growling whisper as he said: "...but I'm yours." He pulled a face and shrugged. "For as long as you'll have me." He swallowed and looked her in the eyes again. He smiled that sly smile he had when he thought of something smart to do: "And probably after that, too."

She puffed air in humour at that and smiled, hugging him against her and softly kissed his forehead.

"I'll hold you to that." She said as she stroked his hair, enjoying the texture between her fingers as she caught his eyes again: "As long as you stay a ridiculous old-romantic with a love for model ships and old jazz music." He scowled at the compliment, so she added: "Although... It would be nice if you could do something about that incredibly bad temper of yours..." She shrugged and laughed again. He laughed too. A moment passed and he nuzzled back down into her neck.

"Huh. Like that, is it? Didn't realise there was room to bargain. Well in that case... Hmmm..." He elongated the sound, dragging it downwards in pitch as he ended it. "You could try to be less of a know-it-all goddamn pain in the backside." He suggested, grumbling.

She clipped him round the ear and then hugged him: "Don't push your luck."

REFERENCES:

"Everything I touch, I break" are words taken from the lyrics of the song 'Everything I Touch' from the album 'Darkest Days' by Stabbing Westward.

I sort of integrated a line from the film Star Trek II: Wrath Of Khan where Carol Marcus says: "Let me show you something that will make you feel young as when the world was new." - I don't know what it is about the way the actress delivers that line, or that line in particular, but it's always had a tendency to make me tear up.

I guess I see parallels with Zaeed and Kirk and borrow from the feel of Kirk's life once he is older at times: both have accomplished amazing things, but in the Star Trek films, you see the crew older, and you perceive: Kirk is actually lonely. In that particular film, he has a former partner, and a son, but that life all went wrong. When he first meets her again after so many years, one of the first things he says, in a rather oddly innocent way is "I did what you asked. I stayed away."

I imagine if Zaeed had met Alice alive after what happened to her because of him, she might well have calmly told him (whilst deeply hurt and upset nonetheless) to stay away. She more than likely knew he cheated on her, but was patient because she could see the person he could be, and wanted to help him leave the path he'd otherwise be heading down. Nevertheless, people can be pushed to far. I think after what happened to her, she probably had to draw a line.

Title to this chapter refers to the way I see Shepard and Zaeed, and why I think they could have a love that lasts: they are similar in a lot of ways, but they still have different perspectives that compliment one another. Disagreements may be frequent and heated, but when they agree on something... whole galaxies may be moved by their combined efforts.