She didn't know how long they stayed like that. She didn't exactly care, either, even though she knew she should. When she'd agreed to speak with Ryder in her cabin, she hadn't planned on letting that much out. Bits and pieces, sure, enough so her friend would understand what she was going through. What she'd done, baring her soul like that? Not so much. A brief flicker of emotion – something she couldn't quite name – made her wonder if this was how the crew of the Normandy had felt when they'd conversed with her. A few of them had commented on her ability to effortlessly pull their life stories out of them, and now it seemed that Ryder had done the same to her.

It wasn't a surprise, then, that she found herself on the woman's couch when she woke up. What was a surprise was Ryder curled up across from her, still asleep. And the more Shepard looked at her, the more it felt like she was seeing the young Pathfinder for the first time. A ludicrous statement, of course; she'd gotten a pretty good read on the girl after her first week or so aboard. But something still felt different now. She couldn't put her finger on it. What she could identify was that the woman was wise beyond her years, and with a few more years of experience under her belt, would be a real force to be reckoned with. Years that, in that moment, she decided she wanted to be a part of. The girl would be fine without her mentorship but Shepard wouldn't find a better person to be her protégé.

Or was she hoping for more?

No, that thought was dismissed with the practiced ease of a career soldier. Locked away in the box that held the rest of such thoughts from her past. Ryder needed her to have the clear, analytical mind she was known for. Not one that was biased and clouded by attachment. That box was the product of some of the best advice she'd ever received. She'd gotten it from a gruff man whose name she couldn't remember; barely a lieutenant and fresh off the events of Elysium, she'd met him at her Star of Terra ceremony. He'd said "Put your feelings in a box and don't let them rule you," and Shepard truly took those words to heart.

Shepard carefully extricated herself from the couch and turned to leave. After taking a couple of steps she doubled back, deciding that if nothing else, she should repay some of the kindness that had been extended to her.

"SAM," she whispered after padding over to the nearby console, "are there any spare blankets around here?"

"Yes, Commander. You can find one in the cabinet to the left of the bed, bottom drawer," the AI replied in a similarly hushed tone.

"Thanks, and don't call me that. Address me as Shepard in front of the crew, and Jane in private."

"Very well, Jane."

That makes two, she realized. Or maybe one and a half, considering how deeply intertwined Ryder and SAM were. Shepard wasn't afraid of AI, far from it, but her skin still crawled at the idea of having one quite literally inside her head. The more she talked to Ryder about it, the more glad she was that she rebuked the Initiative's insistence that she be the human Pathfinder.

She made her way to the drawer in question, and sure enough, a neatly-folded blanket waited for her inside. As quietly as she could, she closed the drawer and returned to the couch. Before laying the lusciously fuzzy blanket over Ryder, though, she noticed that the girl's tank top had ridden up over the course of her rest. She felt the urge to do something about that, so she set the blanket down on the adjacent cushion and gently tugged the hem of Ryder's tank down over her tawny stomach.

A glance at her omni-tool told her that it was 05:53, meaning Vetra would be up. There wasn't much of a chance that she'd be getting back to sleep after that nap, so she could use another friendly face to talk to.

After carefully draping the blanket over the sleeping Pathfinder, she did something else that felt right for reasons unknown: she left a hand-written note on the table that thanked Ryder for her hospitality. One final look back at her handiwork made her chest bloom with warmth, and she snuck out the door with a small smile on her face. As she did, it occurred to her that she'd never doted on anyone like this before, and that was another thing to process later.

Maybe the box had worn out over the years and couldn't quite close anymore.

Vetra's eyes narrowed when she heard someone at the door to her quarters. It was far too early for the Pathfinder to be awake, and while she was supposed to meet with Cora today, that wasn't for another few hours. Her visitor was unscheduled and unannounced – prior to five seconds ago, that is. That annoyed her a bit. Nevertheless, the people on board were good people, so she tapped the door release on her console and turned to face her guest.

"Ah! Good morning, Shepard. Something I can help you with?"

"Morning Vetra. And no, not really, just looking to chat – if you have time."

She glanced over to her terminal and shut the display off. "I've got a few minutes. What's on your mind?"

Shepard took a few steps into the armory and three things hit Vetra all at once: One, the red-fringed woman looked disheveled. Human faces could be tough to decipher with how flat and round they were, and they tended to be less expressive than asari – that is, unless they felt really strongly about something. Even then, humans communicated more with body language. They were like quarians in that regard. However, Vetra knew enough to know that Shepard's skin was pallid and the dark streaks underneath her eyes weren't usually there. Two, her voice wasn't as strong or, well, commanding as it normally was. Even though humans didn't have subvocals, Shepard's tone had been sour and tinged with discord. She wasn't sure if another human would notice, but it was plain as day to her turian hearing.

Three: Shepard smelled strongly of sorrow, and of the Pathfinder.

"I was doing some introspection, thinking about the reasons I'm here and the people I've met," Shepard said.

Hmm.

The human continued, "How everything has gone so differently than I expected it to, though I guess that shouldn't be too much of a surprise given my service record."

Vetra's mandibles fluttered a couple of times as she pondered Shepard's words. "And what did you come up with?"

Shepard propped an elbow against the table. "Not a whole lot. Nothing useful anyway," she paused to sigh, "Why did you come to Andromeda, Vetra?"

She shrugged. "Did some stupid things when I was younger. Wound up pissing off some very dangerous people. Didn't want that to catch up to me or Sid, and I can't think of a better way to make sure of that than to be in a different galaxy. What about you?"

The smaller woman was quiet for a moment and did that chewing thing humans sometimes do with their lips. Surely, it had to hurt. "Been asking myself the same question lately, if I'm honest."

"I can't answer that for you," Vetra replied, "but I'll tell you this: I don't regret anything I've done to get here, and neither should you. Spirits, least of all you. You earned the right to go anywhere and do anything you want, Milky Way be damned."

"I guess."

Shepard's mood didn't seem to be improving, and Vetra's mandibles twitched in apprehension. Maybe she needed to take a different approach, appeal to the woman's sense of duty. That would definitely work for a fellow turian. Hopefully it would work for a human military officer.

"In terms of a fight, the kett may seem like nothing to you but the Initiative isn't prepared for anything more than a light skirmish. Ryder is good but she's still learning to be a leader. You already are, a fighter too, and damn good at both. We need you," she said.

Shepard's mouth pressed into a flat line, indicating that the approach did not work. "I know all that," she paused to sigh, "I came here to get away from fighting. To start fresh somewhere that I could just be, well, me."

"You can still do that after we take those bastards down."

The human sharply exhaled through her nose. "We have an old saying, it comes from our pre-spaceflight days: 'Man plans, and God laughs.'"

Vetra rapped her talons against the desk. Perhaps some levity would help… and the scent of Ryder had only gotten stronger since Shepard moved closer to the desk.

"I'm sure there will be plenty of time for you and the Pathfinder to explore the cluster together, or build a farm, or lay on a beach after this is all done," she teased.

The sides of Shepard's face turned a light red, but her eyes took on more life at the mention of Ryder.

"What are you talking about? Sara is great but we're just friends."

"Human noses really are as terrible as everyone says they are, huh? I can smell her all over you," she purred, and splayed her mandibles wide in a huge grin.

Shepard raised her hands defensively, saying, "It's not– we're not– look, at the risk of being a wet blanket, I was in a bad place–" she gestured towards the streaks in her facepaint "–and she… dragged me back from the ledge."

"I'm just giving you a hard time," she replied, "but I heard you two talking to each other on Voeld. Take it from me, don't waste time trying to hold back the inevitable. If there's anyone in the universe who deserves to be happy, it's you."

The human gave her what Ryder had once called a 'sheepish' grin, though Vetra had no clue how Earthen livestock was supposed to relate to human facial expressions. She pushed off the desk and rolled her shoulders once.

"I'll… keep that in mind. Thanks Vetra, I'll see you around."

When Sara awoke, she was nice and warm. The familiar weight of the blanket pressed down on her form, and the fuzzy fabric gently tickled her chin just right. Subconsciously, a small smile spread across her features. She cracked an eye to check the clock on her nightstand; she hadn't had the best night of sleep she'd ever had, but it was still refreshing. At least six hours if she had to guess.

Except there was no clock. She wasn't in her bed. She was on her couch.

Memories from last night hit her like a skycar. Finding Shepard in the galley, them talking for a while, hugging… falling asleep together.

Fuck.

She bolted upright and looked around her room. Shepard was long gone, which both relieved and disappointed her at the same time. The urge to shiver reared its head, and though she stamped it back down, she still crossed her arms and rubbed her bare shoulders.

Relieved because that would have been a very awkward conversation. The more time she spent around the N7, the more difficult she was finding it to keep their relationship professional. Perhaps they'd even crossed that line a few hours ago. That woman had an almost magnetic pull to her and it was making Sara fall head over heels; the harder she tried to resist, the harder she was drawn in.

Disappointed because a part of her still wanted to have it. The redhead had been one of her role models when she'd first signed on with the Alliance, and getting to know her over the last several weeks had been incredible. All the stories she'd heard hadn't done the woman justice. How kind and understanding she was, the lengths she was willing to go to for her friends and crew, her dominance over a battlefield. They all sounded like gross exaggerations to Sara until she got to see everything up close. Being able to get even closer was something she'd daydreamt about more than once over the course of her short-lived career.

Sara's sexuality had never been a mystery to her, something she was thankful for. From an early age she knew that she liked other girls a lot more than boys. Alec hadn't exactly approved, as with most things pertaining to her, but there hadn't been anything he could do about it. Not that he necessarily would have; as much of an antagonistic asshole as he was to her, he wasn't a complete monster. And a teenaged Sara became infatuated with then-Lieutenant Shepard after seeing the first Alliance recruitment posters following the Skyllian Blitz.

What was a mystery were Shepard's inclinations. She'd been nothing but discreet with any past relationships she'd had, and the idea of just asking seemed wildly inappropriate. Sure, they'd flirted here and there, but Sara just enjoyed flirting. It was fun to push people's buttons and see how they'd respond. That Shepard reciprocated didn't really mean anything on its own; for all Sara knew, the woman may simply be the same way. She certainly wasn't going to jeopardize their friendship based on some charged banter, a few hours of vulnerability, and a teenage crush.

Or at least, that's what she thought until she spotted a note on the table. Hand-written on real paper. Just the sight of it made her heart skip a beat, and it started doing backflips when she held it up to the light.

Sara,

Knowing you're there helps me move forward. Thank you.

- Jane

She read the note again. Then again. And once more after that. It sent tingles down her spine every time.

Fuck.

It was lunchtime before Shepard saw Ryder again. The woman strode into the galley a few minutes after she'd sat down with her meal. When their eyes met, it seemed that there was finally a shift in the way the young woman regarded her. In the weeks – and even days – prior, Ryder's gaze tended to hold starry-eyed reverence. Tinges of hero worship that periodically manifested in their conversations. That was suddenly nowhere to be found, yet no warmth had been lost. It was replaced by an intensity that Shepard had seldom seen directed her way. That fire was matched by the first words out of the woman's mouth.

"Shepard, we need to talk. Privately." Ryder's tone brokered no argument but lacked anything resembling hostility.

"Sure," Shepard said, grabbing her tray as she stood. "Your cabin, I presume?"

Ryder nodded. "It's about the only place on board that's really private, which is why I set up that sitting area."

"Don't have to explain yourself to me," Shepard replied, making her way to the galley's door, "I did the same with my crew."

A few moments later they were both seated on the couch, with Shepard's lunch – a half-eaten plate of chicken alfredo – taking the spot that the tea had occupied that morning.

"So, what's on your mind?" Shepard asked.

Ryder's brow furrowed in thought, lips pursing slightly. "This is kinda... tricky. There's two things I want to talk about. Both are probably going to be uncomfortable, and they aren't related in the slightest. But they shouldn't be anything too bad, I hope," she paused to sigh, "help me out here? One is something I think you should know, and the other is a… personal question."

Shepard cocked an eyebrow. "I'm always happy to answer any questions I can. Let's start there."

Ryder closed her eyes and nodded, then took a breath. "Alright," her eyes sprang open again and locked onto Shepard's, "I hope we can still be friends after I ask this question, no matter what the answer is."

There was a brief pause, and she opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again when Ryder continued.

"Is there something going on between us? More than friends, I mean," the woman hastily ran a hand through her hair. "Look, I'm a flirt. Everyone knows that. But with you, Jane, it's been feeling… different. I don't know when it changed but it did. Maybe Elaaden? I thought I was just reading too much into it, but then I woke up this morning all nice and tucked in with a note that you wrote and I don't know what to think anymore."

Ryder's expectant look gave Shepard pause.

"I can see how that would be confusing," she replied noncommittally, buying herself a little more time to think. How did she feel about Ryder?

It wasn't something she'd consciously thought about before today. First Vetra and now the woman herself. She was certainly more fond of the Pathfinder than anyone else she'd met in Andromeda. Always looked forward to spending time with her, whether it was out on a mission or just idle chatter. Small favors involving the young woman always left her feeling warm and fuzzy, something that didn't happen with others. She wanted to look out for this girl and be a fixture in her life for the next couple of years, ostensibly to pass on everything Anderson had taught her and everything else she'd learned along the way. Perhaps another, more selfish reason was because she felt like she could drop the 'Commander Shepard' persona around Ryder, and truly be herself. No matter how vulnerable. That was what she wanted out of coming to Andromeda.

That gave her an answer she could work with.

"Truth be told I don't know what it is," she said, attempting to study Ryder's wary expression and the way she subtly braced herself, "but I, I feel it too, and before you ask, I'm… interested in seeing where it goes if you are."

The box wasn't broken. It was a relic of her past life, one that no longer served a purpose.

Ryder's guard dropped in an instant. A huge grin spread across her features, eyes seeming to dance, and the weight of the world visibly lifted from her shoulders. "Me too," she said.

Shepard grinned back. It had been a long time since she let herself become romantically attached to anyone; maybe this would help keep her grounded as she finally came to terms with the other changes in her life. If the two of them worked.

She was careful to not let it distract her from what Ryder said earlier, though. "Now what was that other thing you wanted to talk about?"

The smile disappeared from the Pathfinder's lips. "This morning, I found out that Lexi had been monitoring you without your knowledge. I put a stop to it."

Shepard blinked. "What?"

"If I may interject, Pathfinder," SAM's voice projected from the desk, "Doctor T'Perro had concerns over your wellbeing, Shepard, primarily related to your implants. However, some of her concerns were of a psychological nature as well. She asked me to observe you during night cycles and notify her of any abnormalities."

Shepard turned to look at the projection, eyes narrowed. "How did you do that?"

"After your involvement was finalized, Miranda Lawson provided high-ranking science officers within the Initiative with detailed schematics and documentation for your cybernetics. That way, if the implants became damaged, Initiative staff would be able to repair or replace them. Alec Ryder was among those given access due to his own research on neural implants. By extension, so was I. This knowledge allows me to query your vital signs, neural activity, implant logs and other critical information at any time. These datastreams are read-only; making alterations would require your consent, and either additional implantation or specialized appliances that I do not possess."

"Okay, that I can understand, but why not tell me?"

"I was instructed not to. I am unable to guess at Doctor T'Perro's motives." SAM replied.

"Sometimes Lexi gets so caught up in trying to fix what's wrong with her patients, she..." Ryder's mouth twisted to one side, "…loses sight of them as people with ideas and opinions. She's smart and I like her, but that can make her so frustrating at the same time. She probably believed she was doing the right thing, solving the puzzle, and didn't stop to consider what you would think."

Shepard sighed. She knew the type. "I'll talk to her later," she said, then pulled Ryder into a hug before continuing, "thanks for telling me, and thank you for making her stop."

After a moment, Ryder returned the hug, and Shepard smiled.

Baby steps.