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.

Shepard stared blankly at the image of the Normandy at the center of the communications room, the surrounding sounds of his arguing crew a faint and far away din to the thoughts in his mind. The Illusive Man proved to be a difficult man to challenge, especially when he thought he was right and without fault. Shepard hated to admit it, but deep down he knew the Illusive Man was right about a great many things. He understood secrecy and its necessity, begrudgingly admitting that during the conversation.

If he knew of the trap before arriving at the Collector ship, it would have changed his actions, his plan. And they may not have gotten as much intel. He just wished he didn't have to put his crew at risk. His life was a different matter.

Miranda paced behind him, the movement catching his eye and breaking his trance. EDI displayed a map of the galaxy and pinpointed the collector home location at the very center.

"That can't be right," Jacob commented with a shake of the head.

"It's right," Shepard defended the AI. "Question is how the hell do we get to the center of the galaxy and not get crushed by the gravity and black holes?"

Miranda stopped her pacing as she stared, expression void of emotion. Her mask firmly in place, she showed nothing.

Shepard wished she would, he wanted her input. Again, he listened to Jacob and Mordin's advice before finally taking Miranda's into consideration. "I want to hit the Collector's as much as you do, Jacob. But we have to keep building our team. We need to make sure we are more than ready because once we make the jump, there is no coming back."

"It's your decision, Commander," Jacob saluted, expression firm and stoic in respect before he turned to leave the room. Mordin followed, eyes lingering on the image of the galaxy and the point at the center marking the Collector home world.

Miranda walked behind Shepard to leave, reaching out to gently touch the small of his back with her hand. Her fingers lingered and he looked back over his shoulder at her. She offered a faint reassuring smile before continuing to the door.

"Wait."

She paused at the door and turned to face him. "Commander?"

Shoulder slumped slightly, he looked back to the galactic hologram. "Gather the crew. Everyone in the mess hall. I want to talk to them before we dock."

She inclined her head. "Of course, Commander. I will have everyone assembled in five minutes."

He nodded in acknowledgement as she left.

He left the communication room for the bridge. He accessed his personal terminal as Kelly Chambers and the rest of the bridge crew moved to the elevator. Chambers eyed him curiously, stares lingering longer than necessary. "Commander?"

"Just checking my messages, Kelly. I'll be down momentarily." His brow furrowed as he flicked through his messages and stopped on a new message from Ashley Williams.

Chambers nodded. "Yes, Commander." She walked around the large galactic map at the center, gathering the rest of the crew.

Down in the mess hall, Shepard hesitated outside the elevator of the third deck, listening to the voices in the mess room behind the elevator shuttle. No single voice stood out, all melding to a pulsing din. Straightening his back, he walked around the circular hall into the mess hall. A majority of the crew congregated at the center, sitting on chairs, stools and benches around the table. Jack kept to a corner far from the rest, arms crossed and eyes away from the others in boredom. Samara stood beside Kasumi, speaking softly to the inquisitive questions from the youthful thief. Grunt and Garrus stood with arms crossed by the tunnel to the battery bay, quiet and statuesque in their shared gruffed company. Jacob knocked on Miranda's office, calling the Cerberus operative to emerge with a thankful nod. She waited by the door to her office, a flicker of intrigue on her well placed calm mask.

Shepard glanced over his shoulder as Zaeed and Thane entered the mess hall, staying to the sides and away from others. Shepard's eyes scanned the room, ensuring everyone was present. When Mordin entered, he nodded and stepped forward.

Shepard addressed the entire gathered crowd. "Thank you." The crew quieted. "I wanted to thank you all for your excellent service and response, courage during our mission to the Collector ship. We managed to gather the intelligence we sought and the Illusive Man believes we will soon find a way to activate the Omega 4 Relay and take the fight to the Collector's on their home turf."

"We should be arriving at the Citadel within the next half hour. There are some repairs needed for the Normandy and I will make sure we restock on supplies so if any of you need something for the ship, be sure to submit your order to Operative Lawson. I don't know when we'll be docking again or have the availability of materials like we will on the Citadel so we need to stock up now."

"Secondarily, once we dock, I'm authorizing a 24 hour shore leave." Shepard announced to thrilled hoots and applause. He smiled at the response. "After everything, I think we all deserve a little break and it's not like we can go anywhere while the materials for repair are delivered to the Normandy. That goes for the squad too."

"After that 24 hour period, you're all going to have two choices. Come back on board or stay on the Citadel." He paced to the wall nearest the exit and leaned casually against it, his stance relaxed and confident. "I'm not going to sweeten anything about this mission. It's dangerous and chances are we're not coming back from it. But we have a job to do, because frankly nobody else is going to do it. You're all brave men and women and I'm proud of this crew and this team. But I won't ask you to give your life for this mission unless you make that decision yourself."

He eyed the Cerberus crew. "I know you're Cerberus. I can't promise you that there won't be consequences from Cerberus if you choose not to stay, but this is my ship, my mission and my call. You do what you feel you have to do."

"This is a suicide mission," he stated with calm disregard. "I'm just saying what everyone here has been saying since the beginning. But I'm going after the Collectors. We're going to their home world and hitting them where it'll hurt the most."

Garrus chuckled. "You mean like that merc you nailed in his …"

"Yes," Shepard interrupted though he grinned at the memory. "Just like that." The banter earned a few chuckles before Shepard continued. "And maybe we won't come back from it, but I am gonna shoot every one of those bastards and take as many of them with me if I'm martyring myself for humanity. Hell, death hasn't stopped me before, a suicide mission won't stop me now. We'll be docking in less than an hour. Get your lists to Operative Lawson then enjoy your leave. For those of you that don't come back, thank you for your service." He nodded once in recognition to the crew. "It's been an honor serving with all of you. Dismissed."

Shepard turned, leaving the crew to their talks, whispers and discussions. He cued the elevator for his cabin quarters and stepped inside, letting the door close behind him.

Miranda worked quickly, collecting the dozens of lists submitted to her console from the various departments on board the Normandy. Her eyes skimmed each list, deleting the frivolous, duplicates and pointless requests before compiling the rest into a master list organized both alphabetically and alphabetically by department. She activated her omni-tool, connecting it to the database and downloaded the list.

She tapped her fingers swiftly along the console and accessed the payroll for the Normandy, ensuring each crew member had been properly paid and their credit chits updated with the current monetary information.

The Normandy soared into Citadel space and Joker expertly docked at the assigned docking bay. Miranda walked to the hatch, waiting as she noted and checked off the members of the crew as they left on the tablet in her hand. She noted each individual and the time they departed. Most ignored her as they passed. No secret, she was not loved by the crew though she was respected for her position and power. Used to the labels – bitch, ice queen, cold – she dismissed the hostility. The same names followed her from assignment to assignment.

Initially, the labels stung. She focused and worked diligently during her first assignment, given the name 'cold' because she refused to dive into bed with any leering male within the facility. 'Bitch' soon followed because she refused to accept a half completed half assed job. Was it so wrong to demand quality work?

'Ice Queen' was assigned some years later during the Lazarus Project. It was a new label, though not all together untrue. Her childhood and teenage years compounded with her early experiences with Cerberus chilled her already stoic and intense demeanor to a frozen and impenetrable fortress. A defensive and protective response, she found solace in solitude.

"There are some people I'm hoping won't come back."

The statement interrupted Miranda's train of thought though she avoided the eyes of the voice's owner. She recognized the voice; one of the techs from communication. She worked previously with him on the Lazarus project and she called him a lazy sod on more than one occasion. He accused her of picking on him and demanding perfection when perfection was impossible.

She curiously wondered why the tech was placed on the new Normandy. Was the Illusive man punishing him? Or perhaps the Illusive Man was testing her.

Miranda begrudgingly checked off the tech's name, hoping he took advantage of Shepard's insane offer and remained on the Citadel. Insane offers. What was Shepard thinking? They needed everyone on that ship. Why would he open the opportunity for any of them to walk? The Normandy required a substantial sized crew to launch, even more to chase the Collectors.

She flicked her finger along the tablet, skimming over the names of the crew. "EDI? Is anyone else still on board?"

"Joker is in the cockpit," EDI calmly answered. "Garrus is in the battery hold. Samara is in the Observation deck. Commander Shepard is in his cabin. The selected second half of the crew is still at their stations."

Wisely, Jacob had acted quickly after Shepard's announcement of shore leave. She estimated three days minimum for full repairs; the crew agreed to split the shore leave, ensuring the Normandy repaired on schedule.

Curious, she waited at the hatch, tugging on her thigh high boots and refastening them ensuring their snug grip of her thigh. She patted her ammo pouch then the sidearm in reassurance of their presence. She waited fifteen minutes.

Samara left, Joker followed five minutes later. He smiled, tipping his hat. "I won't be long. Just a couple of hours then I'll come back. Somebody's gotta stay with my baby. And I'm not letting anyone fly off with her."

Miranda nodded. "Alright, Joker. I will stay until you return. Contact me when you're back and I'll open the hatch. Otherwise for security purposes, we will keep it locked."

"Will do, Miranda … erm … Operative Lawson." He limped down the ramp towards the hatch for the Citadel.

Miranda waited another five minutes. "EDI, where is Commander Shepard?"

"Commander Shepard is in his cabin."

She tapped the buttons at the door, locking the hatch for the ramp before turning and crossing the bay to the elevator.

Shepard stepped carefully into his greaves, fastening and securing them around his hips. He sat on the bed, checking the brackets at his knees then ankles before tugging on the boots and connecting it to the calf of his greaves. His bandaged arm stiffened at his movements but he pressed, forcing the muscles. He winced, reaching up to grab his shoulder, massaging it slightly through his tight shirt. He rolled the joint, tilting his neck opposite the arm to stretch the tension.

Standing, he took a few steps, testing the snug armor before bending over to tighten a strap at the calf and one of his boots. Eyeing the breast plate, shoulders and gloves on the bed, he reluctantly approached the bedside and picked up the breast plate. He held the plate to his chest with his wounded arm and reached around, using his free hand to loop and strap the plate into place.

Attempting the same task with his wounded arm proved useless, the pain pulsed as he stretched to wrap and reach the other straps. Frustrated, he growled and ripped the breast plate off, throwing it across the room. It banged against the hull, falling to the floor with a clank. He winced, grabbing the shoulder and rolling the sore joint before pacing away from the armor. He sat heavily in the chair at his private terminal.

He skimmed through the archived messages and opened the message recently sent from Ashley Williams:

Subject: Hey there.

Shepard-

I'm sorry for what I said back on Horizon. When I lost you two years ago, it tore me up. I prayed for you every day. I read a lot of Tennyson, thinking about you, just like I did when my dad passed. And then you came back, and it was like my prayers were answered. But I'm not who I was then, and neither are you.

I don't know what's true anymore. Part of me can't believe it's really you. I keep going back to that night before Ilos, our night... I haven't let myself think about those memories in over a year.

I wouldn't have expected you to work for Cerberus, but I know why they sent you to Horizon. I saw how many people were lost there, and if anyone can stop the Collectors, you can. I can't go where you're going, but I can wish you luck.

Just stay alive out there... Skipper. I don't know what the future holds, but I can't lose you a second time.

-Ash

Death closes all: but something ere the end
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods

Sighing, Shepard sat back, closing his terminal. "God … damn it." He planted his elbow into the arm of his chair and ducked his head into his hand. Fisting his hand, he lifted his head slightly and pressed the backs of his fingers into his lips, holding his head up in thought.

Ashley obviously still cared about him. And if he was honest with himself, he cared about her. They shared something special two years ago and if things were different …

He shook his head and stood. But they weren't different. Two years was a long time and though he cared for Ashley, he didn't love her. Not the way she loved him. The letter resurrected fond memories. Ashley had her quirks and annoyances but she was a good and devoted person, loyal to a fault and driven to accomplish something, to do right by others. Not always aliens, but certainly humans.

Was Ashley really so different from Miranda? The details of their past experiences varied however the outcome to the personality was the same for each woman. Hardened, fierce, focused, beautiful, willful. Ashley had physical strength and fearless drive where Miranda was brilliant with cautious control. Ashley – quick tempered and explosive. Miranda – slow burning and searing.

Was it possible he transferred his feelings for Ashley to Miranda? Garrus said Shepard had a tendency of getting cozy with other women under his command. And the turian only knew about two instances. Shepard remembered other times when he started relationships with women under similar circumstances. The first girl was while he was with his parents and a young teenager stationed aboard their ship. Then the girl from the barracks during his training. Then the girl from his first mission. A few women followed, all stationed with him or under his command. He met Ashley on Eden Prime during a fire fight and then Miranda two years later.

Would it ever stop? Or was he destined to get a hard on for any woman under his command?

"Commander?"

The almost lyrical voice echoed through his quiet chamber from behind him – Miranda Lawson. He peered back over his shoulder.

Miranda stood atop the few stairs between his sleeping quarters and the small office with his terminal. Her arms crossed, she leaned into her hip, eyeing the discarded breastplate with the slightest hint of amusement. "Having problems?"

He couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. How could he ever doubt the emotions that woman sparked? Rolling his eyes, he shrugged casually in an attempt to appear fully controlled. "No problems. Just wasn't in the mood to put it on."

"Ah, I see." She crossed slowly to the breastplate and bent at the waist to pick it up. She casually tossed the breastplate onto the bed; it clanged against the shoulders and gloves. She frowned. "What did you do to it?" Walking to the bedside, she pulled the breastplate closer and untied the knots of the straps, delicate fingers expertly working out the tie.

Shepard watched her intensely. Was it only physical desire for Miranda Lawson? Did she replace the void left by Ashley's dismissal and rejection on Horizon? Of course physical desire raced through his system when he watched Miranda. He was only human, after all, and she was the most beautiful woman he ever saw. That wasn't all that attracted him. She was intelligent, passionate yet with a firm grasp of control. He fantasized during quiet moments alone in his cabin what it would be like to see her control slip. Was she a dominating lover? Or did she submit for the thrill and release of giving up the control?

Since Horizon, Ashley rarely materialized in a memory unless as a nostalgic reminiscence of the past. During his few hours of sleep, Miranda's image not Ashley's haunted his dreams. Was it Miranda or Ashley that pulsed through his blood, motivated him, drove him and lingered in his mind?

"You may want to get out there and start ordering the repairs." Miranda stated professionally as she tugged on the final knot of the armor. "I've uploaded the lists from the crew you requested to your omni-tool."

"Thanks. Are you going to take advantage of your shore leave?"

"I am," she responded simply and held the breastplate to his chest, tying it in place with a firm touch. "There are some errands I need to take care of."

"Need any help?"

She offered a small smile, avoiding his eyes. "I'll be fine. It won't take me long."

He reached up with his good hand, activating her omni-tool and tapped along the displayed buttons. She watched him curiously, pausing in her task of attaching his armor. "Just giving you the funds," Shepard answered softly. "Connecting your chit to the Normandy account. Anything you need, get. If you want to work on the list or need something for yourself, upgrades. Whatever you need."

"Shepard, you …"

"I know. I didn't have to. I want to. You're my second. If I can't trust you with our money, who can I trust?"

"Thank you, Shepard," she answered with a genuine smile and soft eyes. "I can get the crew's list if you want to find the ship repairs."

"Deal." He nodded and matched her smile. He fell silent as she circled around his back, fastening the rest of his breastplate and back plate then attached his shoulders to the armor.

"How does that feel? Is your arm ok?"

He rolled the shoulder in the armor. "It's a little snug."

"You want it to be. Any looser and you risk destabilizing it. It'll be uncomfortable now, but trust me, it's for the best." She touched his exposed neck, running her fingers slightly under the armor towards the sore shoulder. Warm tendrils extended from her hand into the shoulder, instantly triggering the muscles to relax.

He moaned, eyes falling closed at the sensation and within the minute any soreness of the muscle faded away. When she slowly removed her hand, Shepard spun and closed the distance between them, expression intense as he reached up to cup her cheeks and crush his lips to hers. Miranda tensed at the sudden act, her biotics flared slightly in defense. She gripped his wrist and with a sigh, her eyes closed as she returned his kiss.

He held the kiss a long moment. When her biotics flared, her power flowed into him, pulsing through his veins. The implants behind his eyes and something deep in his stomach and in his head fired at the energy as his muscles surged in response. Alluring, addicting the energy triggered every nerve in his sensitive lips. When the biotics calmed only physicality remained and still she overwhelmed him. The scent, the sensation of kissing Miranda clouded his mind with pleasure and warming emotions.

Miranda's grasp tightened on his wrist before she pressed a hand into his chest, pushing him gently back. When he finally broke the kiss, she inhaled heavily to catch her breath. "What was that all about?" Her voice husked and she swallowed, straightening to control.

Shepard grinned, slipping a hand around Miranda's waist to hold her against him. "What? I can't have a kiss?"

"You just … do it often." She pressed gently at his chest in a silent request for a little space.

His hand loosened slightly, allowing her the step back but no more. "Just testing you."

"Test?" She arched a brow at him. "What kind of test?"

He bit back the smile at her challenged agitation and nodded solemnly. "Just a simple test." He averted his gaze in pompous reflective thought. "You know for being a perfect woman, your kissing could use some work."

"Some … work."

Shepard treaded carefully, trying to read her unreadable expression. Determined and curious to her breaking point, he pushed further. "Aye, work. You can be a little tense."

"I see." she slowly circled him.

He turned with her, not allowing her to get behind him. Quickly, he searched his wits for a response. His intention was playful banter; Miranda looked ready to filet him.

Before he reacted or spoke, Miranda shoved at his chest knocking him off his feet and onto his back on the mattress. Eyes widened, his abs clenched as he tried to sit up. She stopped him, pressing her hands into his chest as she crawled onto the mattress, her knees straddling his hips. Eyes held his a moment and she ducked her head, kissing him.

He eagerly matched the kiss, leaning up into her. Her hands pressed on his triceps, the one on his wounded shoulder far gentler than the other as she effectively kept him pinned. Her body hummed with energy as she clamped her knees against his hips touching him with only knees, hands and mouth. Her biotic power slowly intensified and her tongue poked at his lips.

When her tongue touched his, a volt of electrical energy shot through his body, wrapping around every nerve in a surge of pleasure. He growled, muscles of his arms tensing as he tried to reach for her, to touch her. She refused to release him, her energy keeping him pinned as she deepened the kiss, nearly consuming him in a wave of passion.

She slowly lowered herself, sitting on his hips and pressing firmly offering the pressure his body desired through his greaves. He moaned, abs contracting as he lifted his head to draw her closer. She overwhelmed him, captivated and entranced in a kiss and sensation that coursed through his body, pulsing every nerve. She pressed harder onto his hips, teasing and he groaned in frustration as desire flooded his mind and body.

Her hand abandoned his sore arm to reach and slide down his body, pressing on his hip, inches from his groin. His free hand reached for her, running up her thigh; he squirmed, his greaves too tight.

Suddenly, she was gone. No kiss, no touch, no presence, even the biotics retreated. Moaning, he forced his eyes open, hazed with lust. He peered down his body as he savored her lingering taste in his mouth. She stood a few feet from him, eyeing him with calm control. Her lips swollen but otherwise she showed no effect of the kiss. Reaching up with a single finger, she touched the corner of her lip then licked them slowly.

She walked up the stairs and waved a hand over the sensor for the door. It opened instantly and she stepped out, offering a coy smile and playful wink just before the door closed. Shepard laughed, letting his head fall back onto the bed and he closed his eyes in an attempt to still his desire and gain some control.

Note: Thanks for all the passed reviews and hits and keep them coming. I'm stumped a bit right now a few chapters ahead, but will work through it. Hope you enjoy the little bit more steam.