Thank you for reading!

Having dropped off the shuttle, the Normandy ascended out of the small planet's atmosphere and into an orbit. Thane watched from behind Joker's chair as the pilot expertly maneuvered the controls, restraining only with difficulty his urge to pace back and forth.

It was ridiculous, of course. Shepard had been on many missions without him; surely she would go on others in the future. But this was the first time since they had become … whatever it was that they were. Thane resolutely avoided the word "love", even in his thoughts, as though somehow that would keep her from being hurt, as she inevitably must be if they were truly together, and keep him from having to awaken fully to a world in which his time to be with her was so limited. Nonetheless, feelings had been acknowledged on both sides, and that made her absence planet-side newly nerve-wracking for him.

"Hey, Krios?" Joker spun his chair around to face Thane.

"Yes?"

"I know you're a pretty skilled assassin and I'm sure you can come up with thirty ways to kill me without moving from where you're standing—"

"Thirty-seven," Thane corrected automatically.

"Yeah. Whatever. That said, there's only one person I usually let hover over me while I'm flying."

"Oh. Oh, yes, of course. My apologies." Thane nodded and turned away, heading out of the cockpit, but stopped when Joker called his name again, looking back at the pilot over his shoulder.

"Look, it's none of my business, but … that woman literally died to save my life."

"What Mr. Moreau means is that he has a feeling of obligation to the Commander that—"

"Hey, no one needs your input," Joker snapped at the AI's console. "Fractured thumb or not, I will mute you again if I have to."

"There is no need for that," Thane said. To EDI, he added, "Mr. Moreau's meaning is quite clear, thank you."

"Good," Joker said, somewhat mollified. He spun his chair back around and made a show of hitting buttons and affecting to be busy.

On his way to the elevator, Thane was waylaid by Yeoman Chambers. "Hi, Thane. How are you today?"

"Fine, thank you." He tried to calibrate his tone to the polite-but-busy level so that she would be discouraged from further conversation. While he found Chambers less obnoxious than Shepard did, he wasn't fond of her overly familiar approach.

"Did the Commander say how long she expected to be planetside?"

"I don't believe she had any way of knowing," he answered. "They weren't certain what they would find." He wished again that she had taken him, but this mission of Jacob's had been important to Miranda, so he hadn't asked. He suspected that the humidity of the planet would have discouraged Shepard from bringing him along even if he had, not that that made him feel any better about it. Ridiculous, he told himself again. If anyone in the galaxy could take care of herself, it was Shepard.

"It'll be nice for Jacob if he finds his father there, or at least what happened to him."

"Will it? Perhaps." Thane thought of Kolyat. Had it been nice for him to have found his father? Hard to say. He thought Kolyat probably didn't think so. "Perhaps it will only bring up more questions." He gave Chambers an abrupt nod. "If you'll excuse me."

Without waiting for her response, he punched the button for the elevator, glad that it came quickly.

It was just toward the end of breakfast, so he made his way to the mess. Only a few people remained at the tables, which was how Thane preferred it. Eating was a moment of vulnerability, of distraction. He preferred to take his light meals as late in the serving hours as possible, although Garrus continually tried to get him to eat earlier so they could have their meals together, a gesture Thane appreciated but found hard to get used to.

Today there was no sign of the turian as Thane accepted his bowl of porridge from Gardner and added liberal amounts of cinnamon, nutmeg, and sugar. Smell of spice on the spring wind, he thought, seeing Irikah's eyes again in his memory. Strange how a person could be captivated by two different women at the same time, he thought.

The onset of memory was disrupted as Gardner leaned across the counter. "Never met a drell before."

"Few have."

"Have to say, you're more polite than most of these yay-hoos."

"I … would like to hope so," Thane said, wondering where this was going.

"The Commander's a woman with a good head on her shoulders, takes care of her crew," Gardner added.

Oh. That was where this was going. He should have known. "Yes."

"She deserves some happiness."

"That she does."

"Good. Long as we're agreed." Gardner turned back to the porridge pot, and Thane took his breakfast to an empty table, inwardly shaking his head. He had told Juniper that he wasn't bothered by everyone having an opinion, but he hadn't expected all their opinions to occur on the same day.

At the other end of the table, Grunt and Jack were arm-wrestling. Jack was blatantly cheating by using her biotics, which pleased Grunt greatly—he had the chance to be the more honorable player, and he was still winning. At last he tired of the game and forced Jack's arm down to the table.

"Best two out of three," she said, holding her arm up again.

"Later, when you're not tired. No fun beating an opponent who's not at their best."

Jack looked ready to argue for a moment, then she shrugged and turned to Thane. "What about you, assassin?"

"Arm-wrestling is more direct than I prefer to be."

"Is it?" She slid down the bench to sit near him, although not so near as to make him uncomfortable. "That what you told the Commander?"

Thane rolled his eyes.

Grunt moved down to sit on the other side of the table from Thane. "Come on, Jack. You think they talk?" he asked. He grinned, or what passed for one in a krogan face. "I bet they have better things to do."

Jack frowned, studying Thane's face. "No, I think they talk. And talk. And talk some more. Which is a shame, because if anyone could do with a long night in the sack, it's the Commander."

She probably could, Thane thought. A whole night devoted to her pleasure, to touching and tasting and … It took all his considerable self-control to bring his thoughts back from that idea.

Seeing the effect of her words, Jack laughed. "Didn't think so. What're you waiting for?"

"Permission, I bet," Grunt said. "Battlemaster has to say it's okay."

"Have you seen her watching him?" Jack disagreed. "He's got permission."

Leaning across the table, Grunt studied Thane's face, frowning. "Oh. Then what are you waiting for?"

"Privacy," Thane snapped, and then wished he'd stayed silent, because both the human and the krogan started laughing. At least after that they got up and left him alone, but the damage was done. He'd lost his appetite, pushing the porridge away half-finished. What was he waiting for? He wanted her, oh, yes. The time he spent in memory was slowly but surely being overtaken by time spent in fantasy, dreaming of what she would look like, feel like, taste like. Other than the occasional vid, he'd never seen a human naked, and he was fascinated by the idea of his Siha bare before him, of her in his arms, of her kisses.

But he didn't dare. To make those fantasies a reality would be to commit both of them to a course that would only end in pain and sorrow and grief. He hadn't been strong enough to deny his feelings to her, but if he could keep from taking it to a level from which there would be no turning back, perhaps he could safeguard her heart—and his, whispered a cowardly voice in the back of his mind.

The bowl of porridge was abruptly shoved aside as a graceful figure took the seat Grunt had vacated. Thane looked across at the purple-tinted visor of Tali'Zorah's suit. He could barely discern her eyes through it, but he could see from the folding of her arms over her chest and the rigidity of her spine that she was upset. "Is it true?"

"Probably," he told her, certain she, too, was here about Shepard.

"Do you know what it was like for us all when she died? Shepard always seemed indestructible, but in just a few short minutes we lost the Normandy and we lost her. Now to have her back again …"

"Miraculous," Thane murmured. He was thinking of the quickening of his pulse as he realized someone else was making their way through the Dantius Towers toward Nassana, the renewed urgency and pride in his work that had filled him in that moment when he thought someone else was challenging him to the contract, the sense of purpose he had found in himself when Shepard offered him the chance to work with her. Truly, she had been an angel set in his path. He only wished he knew what she was there for, what he could possibly still have to offer her or the galaxy with so little time remaining to him. Goddess Arashu, speak to me. Reveal to me your meaning. Why did you send your angel to me now, when it is too late?

Tali was watching him with curiosity. "You care for her."

He couldn't deny it. "Very much so."

"She needs that. She doesn't care enough for herself."

Was that why? Thane wondered. Was that what he offered Arashu's angel? "No, she doesn't."

"Please don't hurt her."

"Not if I can help it," he promised. He feared it was already too late to avoid it, but he didn't share that thought with Tali, who meant well, and only wanted the best for Shepard. He stood up. "If you'll excuse me."

"Of course."

He put his bowl away and sought the privacy of the life support bay. But he hadn't been there long when a knock sounded at the door. At first Thane was pleased, thinking it was Shepard, but he realized the ship was still circling the planet—she wouldn't be back yet. He sighed, certain now that he knew who his visitor was.

True to his suspicion, he opened the door to find Garrus standing there, chessboard in hand. "If you're not busy?"

"Not at all." He gestured for the turian to come in. Garrus was improving at the game, slowly, but he was still too impetuous and favored the frontal assault too heavily. He and Shepard were a lot alike in that way.

"I may have said a few things to a few people," Garrus admitted as he set up the board.

"So I gathered."

The turian chuckled, trying and failing to look contrite. "Everyone threatening you?"

"In one way or another."

"Good."

Thane groaned. "You, too?"

"Yeah." Garrus moved a pawn, and winced when Thane took it immediately. Then he moved another, and Thane took that one, too. "You play a hard game."

"I play to win."

"Is that what you're doing?" Garrus held his gaze across the table.

"What you are referring to is not a game, and I am not playing."

"I'm glad to hear it. You probably think we should all mind our own business—but Shepard means a lot to a lot of people, and she hasn't always—" Garrus caught himself.

Thane restrained his intense curiosity as to what the turian had been intending to say. Whatever it was, if Shepard wanted him to know, she would tell him herself. He knew that absolutely, and with a fierce joy entirely at odds with his desire to protect her from emotions that would only break her heart. And his, whispered that selfish, cowardly voice at the back of his mind again.

"Shepard half-killed herself trying to save the galaxy, and the Council ignored her. Then she did get killed, and the Council pretended to lionize her with one hand while erasing what she had fought for with the other. She's gotten the shaft, over and over again. She deserves something good in her life." Garrus looked down at the chess board. "It's no secret, your condition."

"She is aware of it."

"I know she is. But you know Shepard—sometimes she leaps before she looks. Someone's got to watch out for her."

"Yes. I know." Thane moved a piece. Which one and where, he couldn't have said. They all looked the same to him at the moment.

"But … I just wanted to tell you—I'm here for her. Whatever happens. Not like that," Garrus added hastily, as Thane started to look up and wonder. "I'm just saying—I'm always going to have her back. In case you were worried that you'd … you know, and she wouldn't have anyone. She's always got me."

At last, Thane realized that was somehow what they had all been trying to tell him all day—that he was far from being the only one who cared for her, and that when the inevitable time came and they were parted, she wouldn't be alone. "Good," he said, making a move that in another two dozen moves would deliver Garrus the game. "I'm glad."