Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or any of its characters. They are products of BioWare, EA and certainly not me. This fan fiction is for entertainment purposes; no profit or intrusion of copyright is intended.

Rating: Not that the story hasn't already earned its M rating due to language, but more adult language and situations will be occuring from here on out. Language, Sexual Content and violence. No, all are not in this chapter. But just a heads up for future posts.

Shepard bolted out of the elevator on the bridge and staggered as the ship jolted when the mass effect core activated. He stumbled into the hull, jarring his shoulder. The ship stabilized in its speed, the systems adjusting cabin pressure and gravity. He reached up to grab his shoulder, already wounded from the husks on the collector ship. He winced and slowly rolled his shoulder.

Walking passed the galactic map, his eyes scanned the crew on the bridge. "Kelly, status?"

"Too soon to tell, Commander, but everything appears to be alright with the crew. No injuries reported."

"Excellent." He continued along the corridor to Joker and slowed his pace as his eyes focused on Miranda.

Graceful, tense and determined, she strode down the corridor to him. Her hands clenched into fists, blue energy pulsing around her. Stunning in her anger and barely controlled fury.

Shepard slowed his gait, pausing to watch her. Reaching up he pulled at the fasteners of his helmet. He hesitated as Miranda's aura intensified and he cocked his head curiously.

Her fists tightened and she suddenly outstretched a hand towards him.

His eyes widened as a stream of blue biotic power burst from Miranda's hand. He braced for the impact and grunted as the blast slammed into his chest, knocking him from his feet and onto the floor. He blinked, moaning and his eyes fluttered as he watched her stride past him.

Groaning, he turned onto his stomach and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees as she walked away from him. His teeth clenched. "She attacked me …" he whispered to himself and slammed a fist into the grating as he pushed up to his feet. He bit back the wince as his shoulder gave out under the weight, but he pushed through the pain and stood. He followed her, his armored boots hard on the grating as he quickened his pace to reach the elevator.

Miranda stepped into the elevator, arms crossed over her chest. Her eyes angered and fueled with a contained passion, she waved her hand over the sensor in the elevator to send the car to the third deck. As Shepard neared, she lifted her chin and glared at him, defiant. The door slowly closed.

Shepard reached the door in time and he hopped into the car with her. His jaw clenched when she tensed; the elevator door finally closed and the cart descended. With a growl, he turned to the console and punched. His omni-tool sprang to life, shorting the console with a few sparks and stopping the elevator in its place between decks.

"Brilliant," Miranda motioned to the console with a hand. "As if the ship wasn't damaged enough."

Shepard pointed to the door of the elevator, holding back the wince from extending his sore shoulder. "Would you care to tell me what the hell that was all about?" He pulled the helmet off his head and threw it to the floor to better see her.

"You deserved it," she snapped.

"For what! God, woman, I come back up here and expect you to be happy to see me alive and ok and instead I get some kind of shockwave to the chest."

"For being a stubborn ass," she growled back at him. Her blue eyes fierce, sapphire as she maintained a thin veil of control over her powers. "We give you multiple warnings to get out of there. That it's a trap, something didn't feel right and instead you plow forward anyway and nearly get yourself and half of your squad killed in the process."

"We needed that intel." Shepard responded harshly. "And with only a hundred meters to the console, I had to take that risk. Without the information, we wouldn't be able to jump the relay and get to the Collectors where it'll hurt the most."

"At what cost?" She tossed back. "When were you planning on telling us the Collectors were saying your name back on Horizon?"

"I thought I was hearing things! Why the hell would I think they were actually targeting me?"

"Who knows?" She exclaimed. "That was not something to be explored inside that bloody ship. And then during extraction, when you knew that they're targeting you, you charge into a swarm of husks and sacrifice yourself. How many were there? Hmm?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"I don't know … ten. Maybe fifteen. That's not the point!" He cut her off with a wave of his hand when she opened her mouth to retort. "The point is that I got my team out of there. Grunt and Samara passed them."

"Sometimes … you … you're just so bloody … "

"So damn what? Huh?" He challenged. "Stupid alliance spacer kid. Go ahead. Call me stupid. It's on the tip of your forked tongue."

"Careless!" She snapped. "Even knowing it was a trap?"

"Did you know it was a trap?"

She paused a moment, eyes narrowing as her hands pulsed in power. "What?" Voice deep and dangerous.

"You heard me. Your Illusive man knew it was a trap. Can't imagine he didn't tell his little pet." Shepard snarled and unafraid, stepped closer to her.

"You son of a bitch," she whispered and though her expression remained hardened and stoic, her eyes flickered at the pain of his accusation. She lifted her hand, the blue aura magnified as if to strike out with her powers.

He closed the remaining distance between them, grabbing her wrist with his armored hand and slammed it against the wall, effectively pinning her there with his body, the pressure heavy from his armor.

She struggled against him, trying to jerk her hand away but he simply tightened his hold. "God damn you." She croaked and shook her head, demeanor slowly cracking as her eyes dampened. "I didn't know. I still can't believe he would do that. I can't."

"You ordered a kill shot on me."

"I had to!" She defended, voice sharp and she glared, accusatory. "I couldn't let them take you alive. They … they wanted you and I just couldn't …"

He captured her lips, effectively cutting off any other words she would mutter. Pressing closer to her, his head tilted. She resisted him a fraction of a second before she hungrily responded to his kiss. Her free hand gripped his arm and clung to the armor as she returned his kiss in desperation. His mouth sealed to hers again then again and he finally released her wrist to splay his hands on her sides then glide them over her back.

Freed, her hand cupped his jaw before sliding around to the back of his head, fingers tapping along the circular metal of his visor. She growled in frustration, the hand on his jaw pushing at the mouthpiece of his visor to give her easier access to his mouth.

He answered the request, hands abandoning her and he broke the kiss a moment to tear the visor from his head. He kissed her again before her thoughts ended the intoxicating embrace and he dropped the visor to the floor with a clang. His tongue flicked at her lips and he growled when her lips parted. He deepened the kiss, tugging off his armored gloves then splaying bared palms on her back.

She gasped softly as his bare hands stroked down her back then up again, holding her firmly to his body. She matched his passion, her tongue eager for his in the explosive relief of his return. The hand on his jaw slid around behind his neck then slipped beneath the collar of his armor to fist his shirt.

He pinned her firmly to the wall of the elevator as he lost himself in the embrace. Finally, breathless, he slowed the kiss, trailing his mouth along her jaw to her throat in exploration. Her head tilted back as she sighed. Exhilarated at her reaction, he brushed his lips back along her jaw to her mouth, slow and deliberate in his teasing. He refused to release her then kissed her mouth slowly, seductively.

Her fist tightened on his shirt as her other hand slid up his arm to his jaw. She eased him back from the kiss, dazed and lost in the aftermath. Her hand abandoned his jaw to touch his chest and push slightly, her head ducked in uncertainty.

"Don't," he husked and held her close before pressing his forehead to hers, nuzzling her. Eyes closed, he panted softly on her mouth.

She released a shaky sigh, refusing to look up in a vain attempt to gain control. "Why?" she whispered.

He enjoyed the sensation of her close and pressed gently with his hand on the small of her back to keep her near. "Why what?"

"Why would you put me in that position?" She questioned, any anger dissipated from her voice instead only confusion and hurt. "You forced me into a position where not only did I have to consider leaving you behind …" she pulled back just slightly from him to look up into his eyes. "But to kill you."

"Because I knew you could."

She shook her head and released him to push at his chest. When he stepped back, she ducked under his arm to walk to the other side of the elevator, defensive.

"Miranda …" he turned as she walked, eyes following her before his feet moved as well and he neared her again. He obeyed her request for space when she lifted a dismissive hand at him then brought that hand to her head, fingers grazing her forehead as she closed her eyes.

He allowed her the moment to gather herself before stepping closer. "What it means is that you are the only person on this ship that I know will make the best decision for the mission." He rubbed his thumb over her palm. "I know I wouldn't."

Glancing up at him, eyes narrowed she shook her head. "That's not true. You just talked about one hundred meters and …"

"Not that," he grinned. "I mean when it comes to my team. You." He sobered and tilted his head to better see her face. "Miranda, I … I could never have made the call you did. The right call. It was the right call. And I never could have made it. If it were you, swarmed by husks and I was here … hell, I probably would have found a way onto that collector ship and followed you back into hell and get us both and everyone else killed."

"You wouldn't,"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I would. I'd throw away this whole damn ship if it's what I had to do to pull you outta the belly of that beast. You wouldn't be so irrational." He shrugged and offered a playful smile. "Some might call it romantic."

She chuckled and shook her head. "Foolish is more accurate."

"Maybe a little," his grin broadened at that. "But you're worth it."

She sniffed and lifted her head to look at him, inspecting his armor as she slowly ran her hand over his armor in inspection. "I'm sure you took some shots in there. Are you wounded?"

He watched her intensely, noting her deflection of the intimacy at his words; he humored her. "I don't think so. My shoulder's sore but … it was just jarred"

"You should have Doctor Chakwas check it."

"Trying to get rid of me?" he teased.

"Yes … no … maybe …" she sighed. "Look, I … I need … you should go get out of your armor and see the doctor." She reached past him to the console and pressed a few buttons, reactivating the car as it continued on its way to the third floor.

"Miranda, we need to talk." He stated simply. "I'll come by later, ok?"

She nodded and cleared her throat, straightening her uniform as she stood in front of the door.

"I don't think you betrayed me."

She glanced over her shoulder at him.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said those things. It was cruel and I didn't mean them."

"If they're said, they're meant." She replied softly. "Even subconsciously."

He reached out to touch her hip. She tensed; he didn't let go. "Maybe a moment but … the panic in your voice the seconds after, the uncertainty. I think that if you knew, you'd have told me. Knowing we'd still go in there anyway." He stroked a thumb over her hip. "I shouldn't have doubted you, even for a moment. It was just anger and … worry. That we wouldn't get out of that alive."

"You don't have to say anything to make me feel better. I understand, Shepard." She responded coolly.

He stepped closer to her. "I think we both have a lot of questions for the Illusive man. We'll get them."

She stepped away from him when the door opened. "I … need to go check on the status of the Normandy. I … I'll talk to you later." Without a backwards glance, she quickly exited the elevator.

He remained in the elevator after she left then pushed the necessary buttons for the captain's quarters.

Shepard sat shirtless in the medical bay as Doctor Chakwas examined his shoulder. "It was dislocated but it seems you've popped it correctly back into place." She tested the joint, guiding his arm to move in a circular motion.

He winced at the movements and leaned away from the pressure.

"Still tender, I see." Chakwas stated. "I'm going to wrap it tightly, stabilize it. It should be alright in a few days."

"Yeah, I know the drill. Try not to reinjure it, no heavy lifting."

The doctor chuckled. "Yes, and come back in a few days. We'll rescan to see if the muscles healed."

Through the windows of the medical bay, brilliant blue light flickered from the mess hall. Shepard furrowed his brow. "What the …"

The doctor slowly wrapped the Commander's shoulder with a flexible breathable fabric then tucked and tied off the end. Firmly supportive, the bandage effectively stabilized his shoulder, limiting movement. The blue light exploded outside the medical bay again.

Shepard stood, struggling to pull on his shirt; the doctor helped him. "I've got to get out there." He rolled his shoulder a little and winced then shifted until the muscles settled, painless. He stepped out of the medical bay and his eyes widened, instantly ducking his head as a tray flew towards him then crashed into the medical bay door at his back.

Jack and Miranda stood opposite each other in the Mess hall, both women glowing with biotic energy, Jack's far brighter than Miranda. Jack snarled, eyes narrowed in fury as she waved her hand over the nearest stool. The biotics popped the bolts from the grating as the stool lifted. "Lying … Cerberus … bitch!" She extended her hand, firing the stool towards Miranda.

Miranda took a step back, bracing her stance as she focused on the stool and stretched out her own hand. She pivoted at the waist as she sidestepped the stool, deflecting it past her with a casual flick of the wrist. "I'm not lying! I didn't know anything about the Collector ship. But I'm certainly not surprised you don't see reason. After all, you're always storming around here like some kind of victim."

Jack stepped closer, pointing an accusatory finger at Miranda. "Fuck you, whore. Just because you spread your legs for the Illusive man every time he snaps doesn't mean we all like to be fucked by Cerberus."

Miranda's teeth clenched and blue energy burst from her, charging in her anger. With a cry of fury, she extended her hand towards Jack, a wave of biotic energy firing towards the other woman.

Jack reached out, easily absorbing the biotic energy then reflecting it back at Miranda. Jack quickly reached towards the bench and using all of her energy, popped the bolts and lifted the metallic bench into the air. Thrusting her hands, she threw the bench at Miranda.

"Hey!" Shepard called and stormed further into the mess hall.

The Cerberus officer stepped back, bracing herself as she reached out to the bench, deflecting it.

"What the hell is …" Shepard trailed off as the bench flew in his direction. He ducked, turning to shield his head with his good arm as the bench slammed into his body, knocking him to the floor. He cried out as he landed awkwardly on his wounded shoulder and skidded ten feet before finally coming to a halt, the bench strewn over his back.

Both women froze. "Shepard," Miranda whispered and quickly strode to his side, waving a hand over him as her biotics instantly picked up and effortlessly tossed the bench from his back. Jack stepped backwards, fury and anger replaced with guilt and worry. Her eyes widened and she quickly looked away. Her biotics faded in the aftermath of the fight and she dared to take a single step towards Shepard. Shaking her head, she spun on her heels and quickly retreated, returning to her darkened corner in the belly of the engine room.

Miranda knelt at Shepard's side, reaching out with a hand to touch his back. "Shepard?"

"I'm fine," he croaked, eyes closed and teeth clenched as his shoulder throbbed.

Miranda scanned his back then tilted her head to look at his brow, searching for blood. "What the hell were you doing?"

"I'm not letting my crew tear each other apart," he snapped and pressed his good hand into the grating, pushing up onto his knees. He kept the wounded shoulder still and held that arm to his stomach.

Doctor Chakwas rushed from the medical bay and reached out to assist Shepard. "Come back. We have to check that."

"I'm fine."

Chakwas sighed and shook her head. "Stubborn." Sliding her hands around the wounded shoulder, she felt the joint. "You're lucky I have field experience you know," she chided with a smile. "Otherwise you'd be lying on that table for two hours while the scanners checked every cellular layer."

Shepard forced a smile through the pain. "It's why I keep you around."

Chakwas focused on Shepard's shoulder, examining the muscle and joint through his tight shirt as she pressed her fingers into the muscles then along a slightly bulging point towards the back. "Still hurts?"

"Like a bitch."

"It's still in the socket." She said then quickly yanked on his arm, popping the shoulder back in. "Now."

Shepard grunted, head tilting back at the pain as white flashed before his eyes and he dropped to a single knee. Miranda slipped quickly to his side, running a hand around his waist to keep him steady. She pulled him back to his feet. Shepard groaned. "You could have warned me."

"It's easier when it's fast." Chakwas responded simply. "No field work for at least a week. Doctor's orders. Your shoulder needs to heal and if you pop it out again, you can tear the muscles even worse. Then you're out for longer."

"I've got the cybernetics." Shepard stated through a wince as Chakwas continued feeling his shoulder. "I heal fast."

"Yes, faster than most humans. But you still need time. And the technology we have on this ship can only do so much to heal you. You're different, Commander."

"Different?"

Chakwas looked to Miranda then back at Shepard. "I don't know everything they did to you to bring you back, but you don't heal like a normal human. The technology doesn't work the same on you. Sometimes it doesn't work at all and you have to regenerate on your own. I'm still trying to study everything and there isn't much I can do without the files from the Lazarus project."

Shepard turned to Miranda. "Can you get it for her? The files?"

Miranda crossed her arms over her chest as she staggered her feet, casually. "I don't know. The information isn't easily accessed."

"Get it to her." He said firmly, eyes intense on Miranda. "I think I deserve to know what the hell you did to me."

She hesitated then nodded slowly. "I'll see what I can do."

Pleased with the response, Shepard turned his head towards Chakwas and nodded his thanks. The Doctor inclined her head in respect. "Commander," then returned to the medical bay.

"Are you hurt?" blinking, Shepard eyed Miranda then reached up with his good hand to pick a piece of protein bar from her hair. He fought the smirk tugging at his lips.

She quickly reached up, running a hand through her hair to feel for any other debris. "I'm fine. What happened to your shoulder? You dislocated it?"

He stepped closer. "On the collector ship. I popped it back in on the ship. It's alright."

"But you …" she searched his eyes then stepped back from him as guilt flickered behind her usually steely gaze. "Did I hurt you?"

His lips quirked with his smirk. "Concerned, Ms. Lawson?"

"I'm serious." She snapped, glaring. "I didn't … I mean you were hurt."

"Well, you didn't really bother to ask before you attacked me on the bridge." He responded lightly. "Worth it." His voice deepened as he brazenly stared at her mouth."

Subconsciously, she licked her lips. When he dared to step closer, she reached up quickly to press her hand into his chest, keeping him back. "There's a lot to do, Commander," she said dismissively. "I'll have a report within the hour on the necessary Normandy repairs."

"Alright. Are you sure you're alright? You're not hurt?" He inquired softly.

"I'm fine, Commander," she deflected. "There's a lot of work to do."

She retreated from him, returning to her office. Shepard sighed and winced, reaching up to hold his shoulder. "Hawthorne," he called to the crewman across the bay. "Get the bench and stool bolted back to the ship."

Hawthorne saluted, moving quickly. "Yes, sir."

Leaving the crew quarters, Shepard took the elevator to the lowest deck of the ship in search of Jack. The air warmed slightly beneath the engineering room from its proximity to the mass effect core. His shoulder still sore, he held the arm close to his chest, moving it as little as possible.

Jack crouched on a metallic table under a series of red lights, staring absently into the depths of the ship. She shifted her weight but remained in her position a long moment before bracing her hand on the table and leaping off. She turned to face him and inspected him casually. "What do you want?"

"Just here to talk," he answered smoothly and leaned against the hull of the ship with his uninjured arm. "Care to tell me what that was about up there?"

"What's to explain?" She challenged. "I confronted the bitch."

"About what? I know you two aren't friends and I'm not here to change that. But I can't have my crew tearing each other apart and breaching the hull."

Jack squared her shoulders, expression violently snarled as she pointed at Shepard. "She's Cerberus. And she's the Illusive Man's whore. So don't try to tell me she didn't know it was a trap because you know its bullshit."

"I don't know anything yet," Shepard answered with a simple shrug. "And I won't make any hasty judgments. Miranda has never given me a reason to doubt her before. I can't do it now because her boss is an asshole."

"Hah," Jack flicked her wrist, waving off the comment as she paced to her cot and sat. "Just because she makes you hard, Shepard, doesn't mean she's not a back stabbing bitch. She's Cerberus. And I know firsthand what Cerberus is capable of. Your little cheerleader is just way to gung ho about them to be innocent of the shit they pull." Resting a forearm on her thigh, she leaned forward. "So fuck her and get it out of your system then open your eyes to what she's actually doing. And if you're not going to kick her off this ship, I'll do it for you."

"Nobody is kicking anybody off this ship. I need her here just like I need you here." He responded with calm ease. "When EDI said it was all a trap and the Illusive Man would have known, Miranda sounded too shocked and betrayed to have known otherwise."

"So maybe she can act."

"Or maybe, she really didn't know." Shepard eased off the wall and crossed his arms. "Look, let me get to the bottom of this."

Jack hesitated as she held Shepard's gaze before finally relenting. "Alright, and if she is a back stabbing bitch?"

"Then she's gone. I can't have someone on my team that I don't trust. So can I trust you?"

Jack weighed her options as she searched Shepard's expression. "Keep her away from me."

"You're going to have to work together eventually. But for now, stay on separate decks."

"Just keep her out of my way," Jack leaned back against the hull, closed her eyes and crossed her arms, effectively ending the conversation.

Shepard left the engineering deck and rode the elevator back up to the crew's quarters. He refused to accept the possibility that Miranda knew about the trap especially after helping her with Oriana, gaining her trust and her gratitude. He waved his good hand over the sensor to her office and stepped inside.

Miranda sat at her desk, expression serious as she tapped delicate fingers over the tablet on her desk, sorting through the information at her terminal. "Commander," she greeted professionally.

"Do you have a minute, Miranda?"

"There's a lot to do, Commander. Maybe another time."

"No, not another time." He tapped two buttons on the door, locking it then approached her desk. Pressing his hands into the desk, he leaned forward, biting back the wince of the pressure on his shoulder. He arched a brow, expectantly.

She continued her work despite his presence. "I have to do a full scan of the Normandy before we get to the Citadel so we know what we need."

"And you said it would take you an hour to compile it. We have nearly ten until we reach the Citadel. We have time. Set the scan to run, and then we can talk."

She held his eyes with challenging stare before tapping a few buttons on her console to run the scan. She clasped her hands together, resting them on her desk. "Alright, then. Talk."

"I want to talk about Jack."

Defensive, her eyes narrowed slightly. "What about Jack?"

"Care to tell me what the hell happened out there?"

"Why don't you ask her?" she threw back at him and stood with a wave of her hand. She turned her back to Shepard and walked into her private quarters.

"Because I'm asking you," he responded simply and followed her.

Miranda shrugged casually, sitting on the couch and twisted at the waist to face him, resting an arm over the back of the couch as she crossed her legs. "I have no idea. I was checking on the crew and she came up and started accusing me of sending her on a death sentence. It just escalated from there."

Shepard sat at the opposite end of the couch, careful not to move his shoulder. "Who attacked first?"

"She did. I knew she was there by her colorful greeting and a tray whizzing past my head. I won't lie to you, I attacked her as well. Just not first."

He nodded in understanding. "I see. So what do you think?" He leaned forward in interest.

"What do I think?" Her brow arched, surprised at the question. "Of what?"

"Jack. On the squad."

"I think she's an entirely unstable individual who can snap at any given moment and lash out against friend or foe," Miranda answered easily. "But she is a powerful biotic. And if she can be controlled, she's a useful ally."

He smirked. "You're honest. I like that."

"Why would I be dishonest? But just because I understand why you have her here doesn't mean I like it or will tolerate her." Her voice deepened and sharpened in intensity. "Keep her away from me, Shepard, or I'll split her in half."

"For now," he conceded. "Stay a deck apart. But in the future, we're all going to have to fight together and have each other's backs. If we want to survive, it's a must."

"I can do my job, Commander. It's that feral dog you have to keep on a leash."

"That's not fair, Miranda, she's had it rough."

Miranda glared. "She's had it rough? Enough of us have … 'had it rough' … in our lives but that doesn't mean we parade around like some victimized child." She stood and stalked away from him to the window. "There comes a time you just have to suck it up and grow up or move on. You can stew all you want in private. But you don't wear it on your sleeve."

"I know," Shepard stood slowly. "But she's young. Mentally. Almost childlike. She never had the opportunity or the role model to show her how to cope. I can't blame her for feeling the way she does."

Miranda crossed her arms tightly over her chest as she stared intensely out the window.

"I heard what you both send to each other. You were both out of line."

"I was speaking the truth!" Miranda snapped back over her shoulder then huffed and looked back to the window. "Not that it matters. I know what's said." She uncrossed her arms. "I'm not a stranger to rumors. Look, I have a lot of work to do." She stepped away from the window to return to her desk.

"Yeah, me too. But we're not done yet." He reached out with a hand, blocking her retreat.

Miranda sighed and raked a hand through her hair, obviously frustrated. "What else is there to say? I'm not going to blow her out the airlock. Isn't that enough?"

"It's a start," he responded with a boyish grin. "I was also kind of hoping for a 'I'm sorry I threw a bench at you, John. Here's a nice long kiss to make it feel better.'"

She crossed her arms, biting back the smile at his words and leaned into her hip. "Jack threw the bench; I just deflected it."

"At me?" He teased and stepped closer.

"Well if I knew you were there, I wouldn't have deflected it that way." Any humor in her voice quickly vanished when she reached out to gently touch his wounded shoulder. "You've dislocated it twice in a matter of hours."

"It's alright though. I just have to take it easy a couple of days."

"I … I'm sorry that I attacked you on the bridge. I was just … angry and frustrated and relieved."

He smirked. "You have an interesting way of showing relief."

She shook her head, a soft smile tugging her lips as she gently shoved at his uninjured shoulder. "Ass," she whispered almost affectionately.

Keeping his wounded arm still, he used his good hand to slide around her waist. "So … does this mean I'm going to get a kiss?"

"I don't know," she teased.

"I'll make it worth your while." He coaxed and tugged her closer. "I hear I'm very good at it."

"I'll be the judge of that." Her hand abandoned his shoulder to cup his jaw and she leaned closer, taking the initiative to kiss his mouth softly once then again before slipping her arms around his neck in a hug. Caving to the sensation, she ducked her head into his shoulder a moment before admitting. "I thought the husks would get you. I … I ordered a kill shot."

He pursed his lips to return her two sweet kisses then tightened his arm at her hug and nuzzled her throat. "Takes more than a few husks to kill me. Grunt charged in and got me outta there. I'm alright." He brushed his lips along her jaw to her ear. "That worried, Ms. Lawson."

She swallowed hard and eased him back, avoiding his eyes as she focused on his shoulder. "You're … you're an expensive investment and irreplaceable. We can't succeed without you. You're too important."

"Is that all I am? An investment? A weapon?"

Defensively, she stepped back. "No … well yes but not like … You are an investment and a weapon but …" she sighed, frustrated.

"Is that all I am?" he repeated slowly, stepping towards her. As she slowly backed away, he prowled closer refusing her subconscious need for space. "Miranda? You attacked me because you were worried you lost a weapon?"

She braced her back foot and refused to continue backing away as she met his gaze. "No. Well … yes but because you're … Look, Shepard …" She closed her eyes then reached up to touch her brow. "I don't know what you want me to say. You were chosen by Cerberus for this mission because you are the only one who can do it. The fate of humanity rests on your shoulders. It's why you were brought back to life."

"That's not what I'm talking about," he responded deeply, eyes piercing. "I know what I am to Cerberus. And to the Alliance. I'm asking you what I am to you."

"That doesn't matter." She answered, eyes darting to the door in search of escape. "The mission is too important to …"

He interrupted her, his good hand gripping her hip to pull her against him and his lips pressed to hers.

She shivered in his arms, returning his kiss for only a second before she shook her head and stepped back, trapping herself against the wall. "We can't. It's …"

His hand tightened on her hip and he pinned her to the wall, kissing her slowly again, taunting and teasing. She matched his kiss; he tasted the desire. His stomach clenched when she pressed against him and slid a hand around the back of his neck.

"Shepard …" She pressed one hand against his chest, the other still on the back of his head as she mustered the last of her resistance.

He silenced her again with another soft kiss and his mind reveled in the primal victory at her soft moan. Her fingers tickled his hairline at his neck before cupping his jaw and easing him back. He refused to retreat and extended the kiss a few more seconds before finally letting her lips slip from his.

She sighed softly, eyes closed as she traced her fingers from his jaw down to his chest. "Ok," a slow smile tugged at her lips. "Ok, Shepard. But … let's just focus now."

He grinned. "Alright."

She pushed at his chest, stepping around him.

"Not yet," he teased and tightened his hand on her waist before reaching up with the other hand. He hissed. "Ah … shit."

Miranda frowned and quickly took his hand, slowly lowering it. "Careful. Did Doctor Chakwas give you something for the pain?"

"I don't know."

She hesitated, searching his pained expression before touching his shoulder. "I can help. Just sit on the couch and take off your shirt. I'll be back."

"Mmm, I like how this sounds." He hummed with a smile though his eyes remained closed as he fought through the pain. He finally backed away from her and turned towards the couch, reaching up to hold his sore shoulder. He sat, tugging his shirt from its place tucked into his pants as he watched her leave the private area for her office. "Where are you going?"

"To the medical bay. I'll be right back." Without a backwards glance, she left him alone.

He closed his eyes, releasing a shaky sigh as he held his sore shoulder. Tugging on his shirt, he attempted to pull it up over his head. The movement pulled at his shoulder and he gasped, quickly giving up. Muttering a few choice curses, he pulled the sleeve of the shirt on his wounded shoulder then lifted the shirt from his waist under his good arm.

Frustrated, he reached behind his head to grip his shirt and try to tug it up over his head. He fisted the shirt and ducked his chin into his chest as he scrunched the shirt behind his neck then pulled it over his head. His injured arm motionless, he craned his neck as he tried to pull the shirt over his head, unsuccessfully; his head stuck, unable to pull the shirt fully clear over his neck.

"Fuckin' piece a …" he muttered and twisted slightly but with his bandaged shoulder and the tight shirt, little fabric gave way and he effectively trapped himself.

"What are you doing?"

He grunted at the amused tone in Miranda's voice as he raked his good hand along his head to push the shirt back the opposite way; the shirt refused to move. "What the hell do you think I'm doing?" Embarrassed, he jerked at the shirt. His body tensed at the pressure on his shoulder and he froze.

"Easy," she said softly and he calmed when he felt the cushion beside him sink and her chilled hands touched his shoulder. She slipped a hand up the back of his neck to peel the collar of his shirt over the top of his head and freed him. Wordlessly, she held the shirt so he could pull out his good arm before easing the shirt off of his wounded shoulder.

On the small table beside the couch rested an injection kit, a clean bandage and an unmarked tube, the end rolled slightly to keep its contents towards the nozzle. "What's that?"

She peeled the bandage off his shoulder, careful as she exposed the bruised and swollen joint. Tossing the bandage onto the table, she picked up the injection kit. "Anti-inflammatory." She responded simply and held the injection tip to his neck. He trustingly tilted his head as she triggered the injection. He felt the pin pricking of the needle as the medication shot into his system.

She placed the empty injector onto the table before picking up the used bandage and dabbing at the droplet of blood oozing from his injection point.

He eyed the mysterious tube on the table.

"Do you trust me?"

"Hmm," he glanced to her, a bit confused. "Of course. Why would you think otherwise?"

"Because what I'm going to do to you isn't … well it's not a standard medical procedure." She reached for the tube, unscrewing the cap then squirting some of the clear gel onto her palm.

He eyed her suspiciously. "And what does that mean?"

"Just trust me, Shepard. Close your eyes." She rubbed her hands together, lathering her palms with the gel.

A slow grin stretched onto his face. "I think I like where this is going." He closed his eyes.

"You may. It's going to hurt like bloody hell at first."

He settled back against the couch and sighed softly, eyes closed and trusting. Soft and chilled hands touched his shoulder, slickened with the gel. Stilled, her hands rested, testing with the slightest pressure as a cool icy sensation penetrated his skin and into the sore and inflamed muscles. The chill pulsed gently as icy tendrils traced the internal muscles. Pain subsided from the cold effects; he moaned softly in relief.

The cold meandering fingers within his muscles stilled then suddenly clenched. His eyes flew open at the pain and his body tensed, lips parting in his panged moan. His head lulled to the side towards Miranda, expression confused and hurt as he reached over with his good hand to touch her.

"Don't," she warned, eyes closed and head ducked as she felt him shift. She pulsed with her blue biotic energy, hands glowing. "I'm sorry. It won't last long."

His teeth clenched and he fisted his good hand, slamming it into the cushion at his side as he pressed the back of his head into the cushion of the couch. He squeezed his eyes closed as the cold fingers burned into his muscles as if tearing them in half. Seconds later, the pain subsided as his muscles ceased resisting.

His body relaxed and relief replaced the tearing. His eyes fluttered open as the slender fingers of her biotic energy melded with the nerves and tissue of his shoulder, massaging deeply to free the strain and pain of his injury. "Miranda …" he moaned and his stomach lurched as his entire body reacted to her ministrations, all his muscles responding to her, relaxing, nerves firing then trembling.

"I know," She whispered and looked up. Her eyes opened though they held no focus, staring blankly as she concentrated on the biotic deep tissue massage. Her sapphire eyes blazed a brilliant icy blue, nearly white in the intensity of her work, her biotics infusing every cellular layer.

The gel on her hands tingled, a conductor magnifying the effects of her touch. Her palms pressed firmly and her wrists twisted slightly. The movement both physically and biotically manipulated his muscles. The icy sensation slowly warmed, replaced with a calming heat. The heat permeated his core, traveling through his wounded muscles to the rest of his body, surging as his nerves and muscles trembled in activation.

Any pain leeched from his shoulder replaced with a weakened and fluidic sensation. He hummed her name again and reached up with his good hand to brush his fingers over her cheek.

She smiled but her eyes never changed focus. Instead they darted back then forth, mimicking a REM level of sleep. "Don't distract me, Shepard," she chided gently.

Smirking, he groaned. "Please tell me you can do that with other parts of your body."

Her smile broadened. "Wouldn't you love to know? Now stop moving. I have to be careful." Her smile faded, her expression serious again.

He sighed as the warmth triggered his muscles of his shoulder forcing them to tremble and twitch in response as if she tickled their nerve endings to force the reaction. Her hands continued their slow movement, one closer to his chest, the other on his back and she focused on the muscles around his shoulder for a few minutes.

Shepard closed his eyes, humming softly at random intervals at the pleasure and relief brought by her gifts. The sensations oddly familiar yet his mind recollected no other time when he experienced something so entirely sensual, relaxing and satisfying. Her hands slipped under his arms to ease the tender muscles before moving back up to his shoulder.

She began the process again, slow and deliberate in her manipulation of his every muscle, every nerve. Overwhelmed with the intimate sensations, he hummed and forced his eyes to open. The lids refused to lift as she soothed every pain and every stress. Unable to resist, his exhaustion capitalized.

He fell asleep.

Note: I couldn't wait to post this one for you all. I'm so happy with all the hits and the great reviews. Please keep those reviews coming; they're my motivation to keep writing. Blackmail: if I get a good amount of reviews, maybe I'll post another chapter before Christmas. I do have the next few chapters already written. I know, I'm so evil. Thanks again!