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 closed his eyes, sighing deeply as he tilted his head back under the hot water spray of his personal shower. Citadel shops closed for the evening, the Normandy half empty from the shore leave and the Commander attempted to wash more blood from his hands.

While gathering the necessary supplies and upgrades, Garrus accompanied him and slyly asked for a favor. Over the last few weeks, Shepard pressed the turian about events of the past, the times he missed while dead. Garrus offered little at first but slowly opened and relayed some of his adventures, including the loss of his team. Sidonis, a former teammate, betrayed Garrus and the team to a band of mercenaries; the team died.

Garrus, however, survived the betrayal and sought vengeance. How could Shepard deny Garrus that release? Together, they tracked and investigated, finally threatening a Volus into revealing a contact for Sidonis, a man named Harkin.

Shepard remembered the name from his time with the Specters but he couldn't place it. Before heading to the warehouse to meet Harkin, Shepard secured back up – Grunt. Blue Suns and Mechs greeted them at the warehouse. Like brothers-in-arms with little words needed, soldiers to the core they fought, circled and destroyed their enemies. Strong mech fire pinned them at one point. Grunt bravely charged and drew the fire, taking heavy hits while Garrus and Shepard blasted the mech with their heaviest fire power. The mech spun quickly and fired at Garrus. The turian ducked behind cover in time but not before two stray bullets grazed his armor.

Similar shots penetrated Shepard's shields, dropping his defenses. A Blue Suns sniper capitalized on the opportunity and fired at Shepard's head. The shot whizzed through the air grazing Shepard's cheek and tearing open the flesh. He ducked down, holding back his cry as the flesh tore open, bled for a second then instantly cauterized from the heat.

Under the faucet, Shepard tilted his scarred and wounded cheek up into the water to rinse and wash away any debris. Cautiously, he touched the opened wound, carefully using a disinfectant soap before rinsing it clean. He was lucky. Very lucky.

In the field, Shepard refused the medi-gel packet. The wound was not life threatening and the medi-gel could be better served for a more serious injury. Grunt destroyed the mech while Garrus aimed through his sniper scope and blew the head off of the Blue Suns Sniper. With the protection gone, Garrus easily intimidated the needed information from Harkin, even convinced him to set up a meeting with Sidonis. Shepard stopped Garrus from killing Harkin, barely. To make his point, Garrus head butted then kneed Harkin in the lower abdomen; Harkin was lucky.

As they exited the warehouse, Grunt eyed the gash on Shepard's cheek that stretched from the corner of his lip to his ear. The krogan nodded his approval. "Battle scars prove worth."

Shepard smirked and then winced at the pull on his cheek. "I got enough for an army then. Tell me, Garrus, how does it look?"

Garrus shook his head. "Doesn't help you at all. I'll still be getting all the women at the bar."

Shepard turned off the water to the shower then reached for the white towel setting on the counter. He dried his hair then body and legs before dabbing his face carefully. The white towel stained red along the line of his cheek. Sighing, he wrapped the towel around his waist then walked to the sink, leaning over the counter to inspect his face in the mirror.

Reaching up, he touched the sensitive and swollen skin. The flesh beneath the scar glowed a faint orange, a reminder of the cybernetics inside his body. He hated that reminder. Was he even human anymore? Or machine.

Garrus and Shepard traveled alone to find Sidonis. Shepard tried every charm, every tactic to talk Garrus out of shooting Sidonis. On the Citadel, if caught, C-Sec controlled the law; Murder was a criminal offense. Sidonis's crimes on Omega weren't even crimes by Omega standards. No matter his words, Garrus insisted. Shepard helped his friend, his brother. With no blood siblings, Garrus, Tali, Grunt … some members of his crew filled that familial void. He couldn't deny Garrus.

In the aftermath, Garrus felt relief. Shepard felt disgust. In his history, he made decisions that cost lives; he never made them lightly. Numerous occasions, he drew a weapon and fired first. But it was always on armed or dangerous individuals who threatened his immediate safety. The murder of Sidonis … more assassination. A set up. Sneaky. Secretive and sly. It wasn't how Shepard was used to things.

Exhaling slowly, Shepard ducked his head from the mirror and straightened. He picked up the packet of medi-gel and tore it open. Squeezing a generous amount onto his finger, he looked up to the mirror and slowly applied the gel along the length of the horrific gash on his cheek. The gel cooled then tingled as it healed.

He applied a second layer then discarded the empty medi-gel packet. Exiting the bathroom, he gripped his sore shoulder and rolled it slowly. The bandages discarded for his shower lay on the floor by his armor. Another lucky point – he didn't jar or hurt his shoulder other than the usual soreness from firing his weapon. The high powered assault rifle packed a strong kick.

He padded down the stairs from his office to the sleeping quarters. Movement caught the corner of his eye and he glanced to his right quickly, pausing in his stride. Miranda sat on the couch in his quarters, legs crossed and an arm draped casually over the back of the couch. He smirked. "Snooping around?"

"Checking up," she responded with a small smile. "If you have a clean bandage, I can rewrap your shoulder."

"Thanks. There's one over by the bed." He responded simply. Intentionally, he kept his left cheek hidden from her though realistically, he knew he couldn't hide it long. "So what are you doing here?" He side stepped the pile of discarded armor in the middle of the room and stepped over the greaves as he reached for the pair of snug standard grade boxers he previously laid out on the bed.

Miranda turned from him to search the bedside stand for a clean bandage. "I … wanted to thank you. For the gift."

Unashamed, he dropped the towel and stepped into the boxers, running his thumbs around the band to ease them up then adjusted himself. "Gift. What gift?"

Confused, she turned to face him with bandage in hand. "You mean you …" She trailed off at his grin and rolled her eyes. "Ass …"

"Aw, that's the thank you I get?" He joked then sighed at her frown. He reached up to touch his left cheek. "It's not that bad."

"What the hell happened?" She closed the distance between them quickly, tossing the bandage onto the bed. Standing before him, she pinched his chin and turned his head to better see his left cheek. Using a single finger, she wiped away some of the excess medi-gel and gathered the stray droplets of blood.

"What can I say? Everyone is trying to kill me."

"This isn't funny."

He shrugged. "Garrus asked me to help him out with something. So I found Grunt and the three of us went after some Blue Suns. The mech got a little friendly, blew my shields down. Thought we got all the Suns but there was still a sniper. He took the shot when my shields drop. Couldn't get into cover fast enough."

"At least it's not deep," She whispered and shook her head. "Shepard, what's the matter with you? Too often you're staying out of cover. Trying to make the shot or be the hero. You need to survive. One of these days, you won't be so lucky and that bullet will …" she trailed off and stepped back, bending down to pick up the towel from his feet and wipe her hands on it. She stood.

"Why, Ms. Lawson," He stepped closer to her. "You sound worried."

"Of course I'm worried. You're here to fight the Collectors. A task you won't complete if a simple merc blows your head off first. I can't bring you back again; I don't have the money, time or the technology here." She turned her back on him to reach for the bandage on the bed.

"Merc's not gonna blow my head off. Damn, you're so dramatic."

"Dramatic?" She turned back to him, unraveling the bandage as she casually eyed the red wound on his cheek. "Looks like he came pretty close to me."

"It'll heal." He stated casually and turned his head to watch her tightly band the shoulder. "And yes, I know the Doc told me no field work for a week. But I couldn't say no to Garrus. This whole situation has been dogging him for a while now and he finally found what he was looking for."

She wrapped the bandage tighter than usual, tucking and tying the ends. "Are you planning any more death defying stunts today or is this enough for the next few hours?"

"Depends on what you consider death defying." He reached around her to grab the clean shirt from the bed. "My old Captain contacted me. He wants to talk."

"Old Captain?" She frowned, eyes distant in thought as she searched her memory. "Anderson? Wait, you can't seriously be considering meeting him."

"Why wouldn't I?"

She opened her mouth to respond but bit off the words before she spoke them.

At her silence, Shepard glanced back over his shoulder at her, eyes focused on her expression then body language. "Speak your mind, Miranda." He smirked. "I can take it."

"You're out of your mind!" She exclaimed, pacing away from him then towards him. "Why would you give the Alliance anything? You say all the time that you're not with Cerberus, but the fact remains that you are. You wear the colors, you wear the uniform, you fly on our ship, take our funds. You listen to the Illusive man and me."

His expression hardened, jaw tense as he glared at the wall. Fist clenching then relaxing, he tapped at the console to open the drawer and pull out a clean pair of pants. He exhaled sharply through his nose as he stepped into the pants and jerked them up onto his hips.

"I know you don't like to hear that," she pressed confidently. "But is it really so bad?"

"I am not … Cerberus." He snapped and faced her, tense. "I saw what you were doing. With the Creepers and Husks and the Rachni. And look at Jack. Cerberus tortured children."

"That was a rogue cell, not all of Cerberus. As for torturing children, I believe that all human governments were doing it when we first discovered the effects of Element Zero and the advent of biotic abilities. We've been through this before. How many times are you going to throw it back? I could make the argument that rigorous marine training is also torture."

Shepard paused in immediate reflection of his training. The physical fatigue, soreness and pain; the mental exhaustion, pressure and tension. "You can't compare military training to what happened to those children."

"Can't you? If you are willing to torment one human, what makes another so different just because of age. I'm not condoning their actions in that cell. What happened to Jack was a mistake."

"Why? Because of what happened to her or because Cerberus can't control her."

She considered the question carefully. "Both. Creating the perfect biotic … mastering the weapon is wise. The question becomes nature or nurture. Is Jack's personality because of her biological psychology or because of how she was cultured in her childhood?"

"The same question applies to you." He countered deeply. "Are you as you are because you were born this way psychologically, or is it a reaction to your environments in life?"

"You can't compare us in that way. I'm not a sociopath. Not like Jack." She dismissed easily. "We all have some psychological tendencies that could categorize us as either psychotic or sociopathic. Especially in the military or in my situation. For example, a sociopath shows no remorse, yes? When I shot Wilson … and felt no remorse, do you think that makes me a sociopath?"

He sighed. "Miranda ..."

"Answer the question, Shepard. Honestly," She probed. "Does that make me a sociopath?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "No, I don't think so but only because I know the background. Despite that … you still have moments where I think you're psychotic."

She arched a brow at the comment. "This coming from the man who epitomizes the term after the Blitz."

"That was damn luck that I survived that."

"Not luck," she corrected simply. "Skill, drive and the will to survive. I killed Wilson, a man who betrayed my project and tried to destroy our patient, murder you. You held a defensive line against an almost endless line of foes, killing without remorse or hesitation. Yet you were labeled a hero, an icon, the epitome of human bravery. How would I be labeled?" She paused for a moment as she watched him for a reaction.

"You're trying to justify a relationship between my personality and the personality that Cerberus cultivates. But it's not the same." He answered. "Maybe the man before … I think I had more in common with Cerberus than I thought. I tried to do the right thing, the best answer but in the end, I did the job. I went after the geth and Sovereign without hesitation and with little regard to collateral damage. Not that I sought it, but if it was unavoidable I didn't worry about it. I left a friend behind to die and I god damn knew that!"

Miranda nodded. "You did what needed to be done to get the job done."

"Before I died, I got everyone off that ship," Shepard continued, eyes intense in emotion. "I snapped at Ash. She didn't want to leave me but I told her to go. She had to get the crew off. Liara …" He sighed. "They all got off and I went after Joker. I got him off but I couldn't get on that shuttle and … it wasn't about me then, it was about my crew. After Alenko … I promised myself I'd never do that again. I would never leave a man behind. I'd stay behind, not them." He stepped up to her. "Maybe before, I was the man Cerberus wanted, needed and maybe even where I should have been instead of with the Alliance. But now?" He slowly shook his head. "I'm not that man. I'm not so ruthless."

"Aren't you?" She inquired, knowingly. "Have you done nothing since your return that you could label as … ruthless?"

The most recent adventure with Garrus and Grunt sprung to his mind, not only the murder of Sidonis, but when he pulled the trigger on those Krogan bodyguards before they interrogated the Volus. He instantly dismissed the scenario as a single occurrence. He recalled the swift point-blank attack on the Eclipse commando on Illium who taunted Miranda or incapacitating Cathka on Omega by stabbing an electrical conduit into his back, killing him. Not caring when he watched Miranda shoot Wilson in the throat and accepted the act as normal.

Miranda watched the realization slowly cross onto his features. "Alliance soldier or Cerberus Operative … we both do what has to be done, when it has to be done. We just may have different ways of completing the task. Now if you're absolutely insistent on going to see this Anderson, I'm coming with you and I suggest we bring someone else. You can't go without backup."

He shook his head to shake away the memories before addressing her. "What do you possibly think that Anderson or Udina could do? Plus, I don't want you anywhere near them. They're Alliance and you're Cerber …" he trailed off and sighed at her arched brow. "As … am I." He scowled and turned away to fetch his dented and pierced armor; it needed repair.

"What Cerberus does and what the Alliance does isn't so different. The only difference is the public support. And that Cerberus isn't tied down by politics. But what we seek is the same."

"I don't know everything Cerberus has done. But if it's anything like what I do know …"

"I don't know everything Cerberus has done either. The organization doesn't work that way. I only know about the projects I was involved in. It's a protection. If I'm captured or interrogated, then I can't tell much of anything beyond my projects. And the Illusive man would know within moments of my capture and switch to damage control to remove or hide anything I could report. It's ingenious, really."

"I can't believe he would just … leave you."

"Not always. Sometimes Cerberus will attempt a rescue whether through force or finance. But usually, the operative is abandoned as expendable. You should know, the military does the same. The mission and survival first. To go back for everyone dooms you to failure."

Knowing her words true, he remained quiet as he held the breastplate up to peer through the holes and bullet punctures. Streaks of artificial light pierced through the five holes. He shook his head and muttered, tossing the armor onto the bed. "It doesn't mean I enjoy the thought of leaving anyone behind."

"I never said I did."

"I wasn't accusing you." He picked up the greaves and strapped them on, fastening the armor into place. "I'm going to go see Captain Anderson. If you want to come, come. He was my Captain and I trust him. He asked to see me. I owe him that."

"Let me get my guns." She turned from him and walked up the stairs.

"We're not going to shoot anyone!" He called after her. Shaking his head at her silence, he pulled on the rest of his armor.

Miranda followed Shepard into the elevator to the Presidium. Turning casually, she stood facing the door as it inched closed. Shepard tapped his foot. "I remember these damn things taking forever." After a few seconds pause, he spoke again. "I wonder if the Council will want to see me?"

"Do you really care?"

"I don't know," he admitted honestly. "I wouldn't be surprised if they don't. I told the fleet to focus on Sovereign. The Council died." Reflective, silence lingered before he continued again. "Then after the fight, everyone wanted me to choose what happened to the Council. I didn't really give a shit though. I hoped that they would rebuild it as it was."

"Why? You had the opportunity to fill the Council with your choice and you turned it down?"

"I was too cynical. I didn't think anyone would really listen to me. I didn't think we should put a human on the council."

Shocked, she looked to him. "What? Why not?"

Slowly shaking his head, he shifted his weight as the elevator inched upward. "That's not the way we should join the Council. It would have only created animosity. You don't strong-arm your way into that position after the devastating loss that just happened. If we wanted to gain the respect and trust of the other species, we had to prove that we weren't in it for a power grab."

"Hmm," Miranda eyed the ticking console beside the elevator door, watching the slow ascent. "For hating red tape, you're quite savvy with politics."

"Good," An unidentified female voice resounded from inside the elevator. "You'll need it."

Miranda drew her weapon, pointing in the direction of the voice on the opposite side of Shepard. Shepard stepped forward and spun quickly, drawing his side arm to aim at the back corner of the elevator shuttle.

A cloaked woman materialized in the shuttle. Kasumi leaned casually against the side of the elevator, her hood pulled low and hanging over her brow, casting shadows across her face. Her mouth visible, she smiled. "Hello, to all of you too."

"Christ," he muttered and sheathed his weapon. "What the hell are you doing, Kasumi? I could have shot you."

Miranda's eyes darted to Shepard and after a moment, she lowered her weapon even though she kept it in her grip. Kasumi glanced to Miranda before casually addressing Shepard. "I heard you were going to the embassy. Thought you could use some … backup." With a tilt of the head, she peered at the other woman. "Miranda."

"Goto," The Operative greeted coolly, eyes focused as she finally holstered her weapon.

Shepard glanced between the two women. "Why do I get the feeling you two know each other?"

"Professionally," Kasumi offered with casual delivery. "I believe it was … Clobaka?" A slow grin tugged at her lips.

"So, that was you." Miranda crossed her arms over her chest as she eyed the thief with reservation.

"Did you have any doubt? Has anyone else broken into a Cerberus facility of that security level?"

Eyes on Kasumi, Miranda addressed Shepard. "Kasumi is the reason the Lazarus Project was on a space station and not planetary. It's far easier to secure a space station."

Kasumi nodded, proud. "You were hot information, Shepard. Cerberus knew it. Too bad I couldn't get to you. Or did I?" She teased then quickly changed the conversation. "So, Shepard … would you rather me stay cloaked for your little meeting? Or maybe keep Operative Lawson company in the back?"

"I'm not familiar with your skills yet. How would you best suggest?"

Kasumi shrugged casually. "I can be cloaked. That way you have a card in your sleeve. And when I speak to Miranda, they'll think she's insane for talking to herself?"

"If I respond," Miranda replied with suave calm.

Kasumi activated her cloak, disappearing from sight. Within ten seconds, the elevator door opened. Shepard stepped out of the elevator. Miranda followed him through the Presidium and to the embassies. When he entered, she lingered behind at the door, eyes scanning the room. Stepping aside from the door, she positioned herself near the door yet with her back to the wall, ensuring no entry surprised her.

"So, Miranda," Kasumi's smooth and playful voice vibrated through Miranda's earpiece. "What have you been up to since we last met? Other than your interesting and expensive operation with Commander Shepard?"

Miranda reached up, casually sliding her fingers through her hair by her right ear as she adjusted the earpiece settled just inside the shell. "How did you find this frequency?"

"Do you really need to ask?"

Calmly, Miranda dropped her arm as she searched the surrounding area carefully with only her eyes.

"Trying to find me? My cloaking is very good." Kasumi taunted playfully. "You won't find me. The point is not to be found, you see. But don't worry. I'm not far. Hmm … I wonder what they're talking about?"

"What are you doing?" Miranda asked, eyes darting to Shepard nearly twenty feet away.

"Don't act like you're not curious." Kasumi responded with a chuckle. "Let's see how close I can get, hmm?"

Miranda bit back the objection on her tongue as she peered behind herself and then back towards Shepard. "How would you know what I am or am not curious about?"

"Oh … don't be so coy," Kasumi teased.

Miranda clenched her teeth though her expression showed little of the agitation she felt.

"Tsk tsk, don't do that. Grinding your teeth. Horrible habit."

Miranda exhaled slowly through her nose, calming the rising frustration. The door to the room opened; she tensed. Udina walked inside, ignoring the woman to the side as he approached Anderson and Shepard. Noting the tension rise, she took a step closer, protective.

"Easy now," Kasumi soothed. "No need for a fight unless we have to have one. Hmm … Udina's storming off to his office. Childish. Let's see what he has to offer."

"Where are you going?"

"To his office, of course. I'm sure he has some useful juicy tidbits on that terminal of his." Silence a moment before Kasumi continued flirtatiously. "I promise, I'll share."

Miranda shook her head and glanced up at the high ceiling as if in silent prayer. Anderson and Shepard slowly walked from the main area out onto the balcony overlooking the Presidium. Shepard rested his forearms on the high ledge, casually leaning over in their discussion, back trustingly to the door.

Shepard turned slightly, bracing himself as he leaned into his side against the balcony ledge. After Anderson spoke, Shepard looked back over his shoulder at Miranda a moment before responding to Anderson. Miranda watched, interested but showed no other outward sign of her curiosity.

The door to the embassy opened and an Alliance officer entered, decorated and confident. Three soldiers flanked her as the woman glanced around the room. Miranda's eyes narrowed cautious as a distant but strong memory came to mind. Her fingers twitched and her hand hovered near her pistol holstered on her hip.

The Alliance captain paused in her stride, brow furrowed as she observed Anderson and Shepard. Slight movement caught the corner of her eyes and she glanced to her right before turning her head fully. Eyes searched then narrowed in recognition. "Lawson …" she drawled with a snarl.

The second the captain drew her weapon, Miranda drew her pistol, pointing right at the captain as her other hand flicked at the wrist. She pulsed with biotics. The soldiers drew their weapons as well, pointing at Miranda in calm and controlled focus. Unmoved, Miranda pivoted at the hip, arm extended as she stood sideways towards her foe – a smaller target. "Shepard …"

The Commander turned at the name and he quickly drew his weapon without hesitation as he pointed it towards the Alliance soldiers. Stepping down the stairs of the balcony, he aimed at the closest soldier. Anderson held up his hands. "Woah, everybody calm down. Put the guns away."

"Mom," Shepard whispered and instantly lowered his gun.

Hannah Shepard glanced to her son then back at Miranda. "So … the rumors are true then? She's with you?"

"Rumors?" he inquired. "She's on my squad. Cerberus brought me back. She brought me back. Mom, please. Lower your gun. She won't shoot you."

"Can't do that, son. We have unfinished business."

Udina stormed out of his office. "What in the hell is going on here!" He snapped and fisted his hands, bracing them on his hips.

"Just my job, Councilor." Hannah stated. "Cerberus Operative. She's eluded me for years."

"You've got no proof of that," Miranda stated flatly. Her aura intensified.

"Is that what you think?" Hannah challenged.

The soldiers aimed carefully at Miranda and when her aura intensified, one fired. She deflected the shot easily, absorbing it with her shields. Miranda flicked off the safety of her pistol. Commander Shepard stepped between them. "No, no don't. Stop. Cease fire." He placed himself in front of Miranda directly in front of his mother's gun.

"This doesn't concern you, John. Step aside."

"I can't do that. She's my XO. I need her."

"So it is true then? Cerberus is kidnapping the colonists. Are you doing it?"

"What? No!" Shepard denied. "Cerberus isn't behind those attacks. It's the Collectors."

"The Collectors?" Hannah frowned and stood straight, though her gun still extended. "Really?"

"I saw them. And then we were on their ship. We got intel that it was a derelict ship so we infiltrated for some information on them. It's the Collectors. And they're coming for Earth. They're working for the Reapers."

"What absolute rubbish!" Udina exclaimed with a dramatic slice of the hand. "Everyone knows the Reapers are a myth. And the Collectors? Another myth."

"Don't be such a bumbling fool," Miranda countered with a sneer. "You were here and witnessed Sovereign. The Reapers are real. The Collectors are real. And while you've all been here dancing around, sipping wine and chasing lies, we have been going after the real issue. So if you're going to have that idiotic attitude, just get out of our way and stop running your lip."

Udina bristled at the disrespectful address. Pride wounded, he waved a hand towards Miranda. "She's Cerberus. They're terrorists. Arrest her."

One of the soldiers flinched and step forward. Shepard drew his gun again and pointed it right at the man's head. "Don't move. Nobody move. Look, I was under the impression this was the human embassy, not the Alliance embassy. We are all here because we're doing what we think is best for humanity. We're on the same god damn team."

Two soldiers and Udina spoke at the same time, their voices muffled as they melded. Hannah interrupted. "Enough! John, are you sure of what you saw? You're sure they're coming."

"I have no doubts. Cerberus knew what was happening, something was wrong. They knew the Reaper threat. It's why they brought me back. Miranda and I … we know the most about the Collectors. I need her on my squad if we're going to not only succeed but have a shot at coming out of this alive."

Hannah paused as she searched her son's expression. She lowered her pistol, holstering it. "For you, John, we can put this aside until later." All but one of the soldiers followed her lead, the man at the end nearest the door glared at Miranda, stance still hostile.

Udina rumbled. "Raise your weapons! I will not have Cerberus in my embassy."

"Not now, Udina," Hannah tossed back and stepped to Shepard, ignoring the simmering and reddening Udina. She pinched her son's chin, tilting his head one way then the next. "Let's take a look at you. Your eyes aren't right."

Shepard chuckled. "I think she did a pretty good job. They had to do more to make sure my eyes worked. They are just a little more blue than they were."

"They used to be grey, like your father's." Hannah stated and released his chin. "So I don't even get a message letting me know you're alive? I have to hear through some random intel on a screen of an Alliance database? And I hear from Ashley Williams that you're working for Cerberus? Did you at least send word to your father?"

"No, I didn't," he replied sheepishly. "I … I woke up and I was thrown into a mission. I just didn't think to …"

"Didn't think to …" Hannah shook her head. "Just like your father. He's involved in a deadly firefight and when finished he doesn't think to tell me he's alright."

Miranda holstered her weapon, though her biotics still pulsed as the blue aura swirled around her left hand. She eyed the soldiers cautiously. The armed and readied soldier glared intensely at Miranda. Suddenly his body tensed, eyes widening. "I wouldn't get any ideas if I were you," Kasumi said. Her cloak flickered and she came into view. She stood directly behind the soldier, her pistol pressed against the base of his skull as she spoke near his ear. "Now … let's put that little gun away."

The other soldiers drew their weapons, aiming at Kasumi. "Drop the weapon!" one commanded roughly. Another followed. "Drop it. Weapon on the ground."

Never intimidated, Kasumi grinned. "Well look at that. I suppose it's ok for them to point a gun at you but you can't reciprocate the gesture." Kasumi spun quickly, placing the soldier between herself and the others, gun still at the base of his skull. "Now, Sweetheart … why don't you put that gun down?"

"Go to hell," the soldier snarled out of the corner of his mouth. "Shoot me then, you'll be dead the moment you pulled the trigger."

"You have a lot of faith in your friends' accuracy." Kasumi said, amused.

Shepard growled. "Guns down!" None listened as tensions rose near breaking point, fingers twitched at triggers just waiting to fire.

Miranda punched a fist to the ground, sending a shockwave out in all directions. The force rippled through the ground, cracking random floor tiles as it knocked every soldier and both Shepards to the ground in a crash of metal and rattling of armor. Kasumi deftly dodged the blow and leapt then landed gracefully on her feet. With the soldiers disarmed, Miranda reached out with a hand. Tendrils of her aura extended and picked up the lost weapons of the three men, lifting the guns into the air. She twisted her wrist, slowly fisting her fingers as the tendrils turned the guns and slowly crushed them with its force. Her hand relaxed, fingers splaying; the guns dropped to the floor with a clack. Sweat beaded at her brow and she controlled her breath –she panted only a second – to maintain the air of control despite the exertion.

Hannah lifted up onto her elbows as she watched the guns twirl then crush under the biotic power before dropping to the floor, one hitting a soldier's head. Arching a brow, she glanced at her son. "If she was Alliance, I'd like her."

Shepard smirked. "But only if she was Alliance." He pushed to his feet and rolled his wounded shoulder. "Hey," he called to Miranda. "Was that really necessary?"

She shrugged casually. "Sorry," No sympathy or apology in her voice or eyes despite the words. "I was sick of having a bloody gun pointed at my head."

"What are you waiting for? Get her!" Udina demanded. The soldiers hesitated.

"There's a brilliant plan. Go ahead, boys. Get her." Kasumi taunted with a smile; the soldiers glared but otherwise stood cautiously and showed no signs of attacking. "What? That weak little woman too much for you men?"

"You keep interesting company, John." Hannah commented as she pushed up onto her feet, eyes darting between Kasumi and Miranda.

Shepard grinned proudly. "My squad is the best I could ask for."

"Best?" Hannah challenged. "Better than Williams? Alenko?"

"No," he answered smoothly with a shake of his head. "It's all the same squad. I have Garrus and I'll get Tali and Liara. Ash is just … it's complicated."

"So she tells me. She cares about you, Shepard. And she's worried."

"How do you know?"

"I saw her a week ago," Hannah turned from her soldiers, leading her son towards the balcony for a bit more privacy. "She told me about Horizon. It shocked her, seeing you on Horizon and verifying your involvement with Cerberus. You know what she's like. She loves you, John."

"I … I know," he sighed, resigned as he turned to lean against the balcony. "I just … don't love her the same way."

Frowning, Hannah turned towards her son, propping her hip against the ledge as she crossed her arms. "What do you mean? You sent me messages about her."

"I know." He rocked slightly, elbows bending then straightening in push-up fashion once then again. "I know, but it's different now. I just … I don't love her like that."

"That doesn't just change, John. Not unless …" Realization dawning, Hannah sighed. "Christ, there's someone else isn't there?"

"It's complicated."

"Complicated. You've got to stop doing this. Every other ship, every other mission. Who is it now?"

"It's different this time."

"That's what you always say." Hannah chided. "You always say it's different. But is it really?"

"Yeah," He answered confidently and tilted his head just slightly to glance towards Miranda out of the corner of his eye. "It's different."

Her eyes instantly follow Shepard's gaze. "You can't be serious, John. Her? Lawson?"

"I don't know. It's different with her."

"You've got to stop doing this, John. You're getting involved with women when you're under a lot of stress. You're not thinking things through. You've been through a lot. Have you ever considered … not sleeping with the women on your crew. Novel idea, I know. But you may want to consider it."

Shepard grumbled and turned from his mother to rest his arms on the ledge.

"If your mission is as important as you say it is, you can't be distracted."

"I know that," he responded firmly. "Don't you think I know that? I've been through enough of these suicide scenarios to understand that. Plus, you can't preach to me about this. You met Dad on one of these kind of missions and you two …"

"Do as I say, not as I do," she interrupted though couldn't stop the small smirk from forming on her lips. "Your father and I were an exception, as is proven by your streak of broken hearts. Plus he and I did not actually pursue anything until after we were out of certain death." She reached out to touch his cheek. "You look just like your father when you glare like that, stubborn."

He smiled softly. "Come by my ship, tonight. Supper? We can talk. Catch up."

"I'll meet you outside. We'll go to one of the restaurants. Just you and me. Nothing funny."

"Nothing funny," he verified with a nod.

"Good. I'll see you in a few hours then." She turned from him and approached her men. "Come on, boys. Fall out."

"But Ma'am, we …"

"I said, Fall out, Corporal." Hannah interrupted with a stern glare.

He nodded, "Ma'am," then turned and followed her from the embassy. One soldier lingered behind, hostile stare focused on Miranda for a second before continuing out after his Commander. Anderson soothed a steaming Udina as Shepard gathered his crew.

Shepard turned off the steaming stream of water pouring from the shower nozzle then reached to the side for the crisp white towel. Drying his body then legs, he wrapped the towel around his waist before walking towards the mirror. He wiped a palm over the glass, clearing the steam so he could see his reflection. Picking up a small bowl to the side, he swirled a soft bristled brush along the soap inside, creating a rich lather before massaging the cream onto his cheeks, jaw, chin, then neck. Using a sharp straight razor, he tilted his head, stretched the skin and drew the sharp blade along the lather with a scratchy scrape.

Mind clear and relaxed during the slow shaving routine, he cleaned the two day stubble from his face. Sporadically, he dipped the razor into the hot water-filled sink to rinse away the lather before calculating another careful draw of the blade. Using the bottom of the towel around his waist, he wiped his face then drained the water from the sink. He carefully rinsed the razor blade before setting it aside to dry, ignoring the remnants of soap film and stubble clinging to the sides of the sink. Picking up a small vial, he dabbed the top onto his hands and rubbed them together then rubbed his hands over his face and neck. A mild but masculine musk; his father used the same. Flicking off the light, he returned to his room and changed into a comfortable casual outfit for dinner.

Before leaving the ship, Shepard descended to the third deck and strode into Miranda's office. He entered confidently, pausing just inside as Miranda tapped at the console on her desk. "Commander," she greeted in usual professional calm. "What can I do for you?"

"How's the Normandy?"

"Repairs are going well," she responded and tapped two buttons on the console. "Estimated completion within 48 hours."

"Excellent. Anything else you can offer? More ideas for upgrades?"

"I've already submitted what I could for the planetary scanners."

He smiled and sat in the chair across from her desk. "That'll be a big help when we start mining again." Watching her a moment, he leaned forward, arms resting on his thighs. "Ya got a minute?"

"Usually," she answered slyly then leaned forward with a small smile. "Of course." She clasped her hands together on the desk.

He returned the smile a moment. "Just wanted to talk to you about the embassy."

"Ah," She leaned back, untwining her fingers as she pushed to her feet. "Which part?"

Shepard watched her pace to the window. "Start with how you know my mother?"

Her back to him, she gazed out the window at the busy docking area of the Citadel. "I believe you have an engagement. That story can wait for another time."

"I'd like to hear it now," he countered with curiosity. "I've got a few minutes until I have to go."

"There's not much to say," She finally said and turned to face him though she kept her physical distance. "I was stationed in a cell in an underground research station. I was a group leader at the time, in charge of a small section of the research project. Hannah Shepard led the Alliance assault on our base."

"She recognized you," he pressed. "If you were just a group leader, she wouldn't have known you by name. How did she recognize you? How did you get away?"

"We saw the Alliance coming the moment they entered the system. The station operative was crashing the computer system, saving the research before destroying the evidence. The Alliance found us because we had a mole. Someone who worked for Cerberus for years and sold us out." With a sigh, she sat in the chair facing the window, back to Shepard again. "I was going to leave the station … was right by the escape shuttle, but I found out who it was. Who sold us out. I did what I had to do."

"You went after him." He coaxed. "Instead of leaving the base."

She nodded. "The Alliance was already in the base. I killed a few on my way; I don't know who. Random soldiers, grunts. But I knew who the mole was. Found the bug in their room. Saw the thing planted under the table in a room I was passing. They activate the homing sensor and within 24 hours, we had an Alliance vessel in our system." Miranda crossed her legs as she settled back into the chair. "The Alliance moved fast, our defenses only held them for so long. They attacked from the air, took out our turrets and in less than an hour they were inside. When I found the traitor, he was in the mess hall standing with other Alliance soldiers. Must have thought he was safe … he was wrong."

"So my mother was in the mess hall."

Miranda nodded again. "Yes. Talking to him. I'll never forget him. He wasn't on my squad for that mission, but I worked with him before. I thought he was trustworthy. He was a brilliant mind, a scientist. And there he was, with his forked tongue standing ten meters away talking to Captain Hannah Shepard. I knew her by reputation. I made it my personal mission to learn the various Alliance Captains on vessels that I may come in contact with. Had dossiers."

"You had a dossier on my mother?"

"Not just her," she explained and glanced back over her shoulder. "I had one on Captain Anderson too among others."

He stood and walked slowly towards her, crossing his arms and leaning against the hull as he looked at her. "So what did you do when you saw him in the mess hall?"

"The only thing I could do. I killed him."

Curious, he pushed off the wall. "You killed him? How? He was with the Alliance soldiers."

"I know." She turned her eyes from the window to Shepard. "And I entered from a secret passage through the wall. They didn't see me. I aimed and took the shot. My pistol is accurate. He was right next to your mother. I used a simple shockwave, knocked them off their feet and was able to elude them quite easily."

He smirked. "Bragging?"

"Just the truth," she responded with a casual shrug and stood. "I would suggest not recruiting your mother to join us on this operation. There is already enough tension on board."

"Don't plan on asking her. Having your mother around can really put a damper on the sex life." He teased with a broad grin as he tilted his head to admire her.

She arched a brow, stoically responding. "What sex life?"

"Tease," he joked and uncrossed his arms.

She offered a small smirk before returning to her desk. Standing at its side, she tapped three buttons on the console. "Jacob's still repairing your armor but there are alternative sets you can wear."

"I'm not planning on wearing any."

Shocked, she faced him. "What? Why not?"

He laughed. "I'm going to dinner, not war."

She extended an arm towards him. "Half the galaxy is trying to kill you." Her hand dropped to her side. "Why would you go out without any protection?"

Hand patting the sidearm on his hip, he glanced down at the weapon. "I'm not going without protection."

Expression blank though eyes intense, she leaned forward slightly. "I don't have patience for recklessness." She turned her head slightly, looking away from him before shaking her head. Walking past him, she stood by the window, back to him.

His eyes followed her and he pivoted on his foot to step behind her. He reached out with a calloused hand, fingers gently gliding from her middle back, down her spine. "You wanted me like I was. I succeeded because of this. Recklessness makes me a god damn hero."

She snorted with a sneer. "I don't have patience for bloody heroes either."

He stepped closer, hand moving from her back to her hip. "So how do you put up with me?" He smirked, eyes on her waist then slowly raking up her back to settle on the soft flesh of her neck.

Silence lingered uncomfortably long before she whispered. "I don't know."

Shepard tightened his hold on her waist, his thumb pressing along her spine at the side, pushing on the tense muscles. She stiffened at the touch but otherwise remained still, peering over her shoulder. He stepped closer, his other hand gripping her waist as well as he pressed both thumbs into the muscles along either side of her spine. Muscles clenched, she turned her head just slightly. His eyes stared at her, focused on her profile as he pushed up with his thumbs then forcefully drew them down the sides of her spine, massaging the knots from the muscles in slow deliberate force. Her breath caught silently in her throat, eyes fluttering a moment. Ducking her head, her back stretched catlike at the ministrations and manipulation of the long ignored tension.

Embolden, his hands shifted, palms pressing up her waist to the lines of her ribs then down, thumbs tracing the tense lines beside her spine back down to her hips. His ego swelled at the small sigh slipping past her lips. He inched closer, absorbing the familiar scent and sensation. Eyes closed, her shoulders relaxed and feet staggered slightly for balance. His right hand abandoned her side to slowly tickle calloused fingers up her spine and gently sweep the hair away from one shoulder; her head tilted back. He lowered his head, parted lips hovering over the smooth flesh. The hand on her waist tightened as the other brushed gently over her opposite shoulder, down her arm and finally around her waist to splay on her abdomen.

Breathing slowly, she savored patiently at the slow attention and subconsciously obeyed his cue at the soft pressure on her stomach; she stepped back into him. He rewarded her, his other hand joining the first on her stomach as his mouth slowly trailed up to her ear, never touching but teasing warmth. Involuntarily, she shivered.

When she shifted in his arms to turn, his hold loosened as he guided her with his hands. Splaying his palms on her back, he held her close, refusing to release her as he searched her expression then her eyes. Breath shallow and slightly quickened, Miranda held his gaze and slowly reached up. Soft cool finger tips brushed the clean line of his jaw before her palm cupped his cheek. He pulled her closer, hip to hip as his mouth hovered over hers in anticipation. Tension simmered then coiled as desire knotted his stomach but he waited, resisting as he drew the same winding need within her.

Her back arched at his tug on her lower back and she leaned up towards his mouth, pausing a second. The hand on his cheek slid behind his neck, fingers playfully stroking his short hair, tickling as she teased it opposite its natural growth direction. He shivered; her other hand gripped his bicep.

He closed the last inch between them, slowly wrapping his lips around hers. The breath expelled from her lungs at the touch and he tilted his head. The kiss simple and pure relief, a release of the months of tension in a tender moment; Shepard parted his lips to breath, inhaled then exhaled a moment before he kissed her again. She matched his slow and deliberate kiss. Beyond desire, beyond passion to a deeper and burning emotional release, Shepard held her lips with his, soft and warm.

Breathless, she pulled back from him slightly. The hand on his neck eased to his jaw and she brushed her thumb over his moistened lips. He pursed his lips, kissing her thumb as his eyes intensely held hers. Hands stroking, Miranda slid the hand on his jaw down to his chest as the other snaked up around the back of his neck; she pulled him closer.

Shepard complied, lips sealing with hers. Tongues dueled, though neither claimed supremacy in the searing intensity of emotional release. The sensation of eternity in only a few seconds time, Shepard slowed the kiss, tender and teasing as the passion dissipated. Panting softly, he searched her eyes. His hand eased along her back, thumb teasingly brushing against her spine.

She shivered at the teasing contact and replied by swirling her finger along the back of his ear; he shivered as well. She slipped her hand down to his shoulder and he reluctantly released her. At a loss for words – for what could he say after such a moment – he stepped back and adjusted his shirt. He watched her as he backed towards the door and offered a boyish smile, a quirk of the lips before leaving the room.

Note: Hope you enjoyed. I want to finish the story before ME3 comes out =D. Keep the hits and reviews coming. They motivate.