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 leaned against the bar on the Port Observation deck, elbows resting at the edge as he held the cylindrical glass in his hand, swirling the potent red liquid. He swayed slightly – the signs of buzzed inebriation. He smiled bitterly then brought the glass to his lips, tilting his head back to pour the burning liquor down his throat. He swallowed every drop and closed his eyes before ducking his head and carefully placing the glass back onto the counter.

He shook his head, clearing some of the buzz and pressed his lips together to hold back the rumbling in his stomach. Releasing a slow hiss, he sat roughly on the stool and grabbed the half-filled bottle of red liquor. He swirled the bottle, watching entranced at the liquid then poured a little into his glass. Pushing to his feet, he walked slowly around the bar and picked up a bottle of blue liquor. He sniffed the contents and topped off his drink with a splash of blue.

Kasumi watched him curiously from the couch, legs up on the cushion as she sat back into the corner of the L-shaped sofa. One arm rested on the back of the couch, elbow bent and hand fisted to hold up her head. "Impressive, Shep. Do you plan to go until you pass out? Or just finish the bottle?"

"Whichever comes first," He lifted the glass to Kasumi in a toast before tilting his head back and pouring its contents down his throat.

"So I'm going to go out on a limb here and say this has something to do with what happened down there at Hock's place."

He filled his glass with the blue liquid, stumbled a little but steadied himself. "Perceptive."

"Alright then," she swung her legs off the couch and stood, walking to the bar to sit in the stool, facing him. "If you're pouring, I'll have one too."

Chuckling, he picked up a clean glass and his brow lifted in question. She pointed to a pink liquor behind him. Shepard turned to pick up the other bottle, swayed slightly then gave Kasumi half a glass.

She took the offered glass and sipped its contents, savoring the spicy taste on her tongue. "So let's move down the checklist. I'm a big fan of checklists. What couldn't it be? I think that's a smaller menu, don't you think?" She watched with intuitive eyes as Shepard chugged the blue drink in his hand then leaned backwards against the back counter of the bar. His head ducked, eyes hazed. "Well," she continued. "It's probably not destroying my grey box. Or blowing up Hock's gunship … with Hock on board. Or getting a fancy dinner suit – which, by the way, hardly does you justice."

Shepard smirked at that and rolled his eyes at Kasumi's flirtatious grin. "I hate dinner parties."

"Who doesn't? So stuffy. Hardly fun. Best behavior, watching your language." She shrugged casually. "Let's see, what else is on this list. Hmm, can't really think of anything else. What do you think, Shep? That a good list for what it's not?" When he growled and poured himself more blue liquor, she continued. "Then let's see what it is. Alright, I'm not one to play fair and I rarely pick the obvious. But in this case? I think it's a fair assumption. So I'm going to say … Miranda."

Shepard glared though his lids half closed, eyes glazed as he chugged the blue drink. He set down the glass and coughed, leaning forward with hands on the bar as he tried to control himself. His sways deepened but he remained erect.

"I think that's it. Miranda. Love life not going so well?"

"None of your business," he snapped.

"Oh but it most definitely is my business when you're here on my deck drinking my liquor."

"This isn't your liquor."

"Of course it is," she responded, lightly. "Be serious, Shep, do you really think Cerberus had this place stocked with that liquid fire? Cerberus the organization of 'work … slave … work … project … whip'. Crack the whip a little harder now. And not in a fun way."

"I'll buy the next round," he grunted and poured more red liquid into his glass.

"So, Miranda and Hock," Kasumi watched Shepard, observing every reaction. "She pulled through for us, Shep. We got the DNA from that wine glass."

"And the couch," he growled.

She shrugged casually. "There wasn't much there. Not fresh. Not like the wine glass. And the datapad."

Quiet for nearly a minute, he drained the contents of his glass and placed it back on the table. He hissed then coughed and closed his eyes. Dizzy, his stomach swirled. He slammed his palm onto the counter and forced his eyes open as he snarled. "She fucked Hock."

Kasumi hissed sympathetically. "Ouch, that must sting. She told you that?"

"Well … no."

"Oh. You were with me the whole time. Why would you assume she did that?"

Shepard glared. "You were there. She said she was going to."

"She did?" Kasumi sipped her drink. "I don't recall that. I recall her saying she would help us get DNA. Which she did, by the way, with the wine glasses."

He glowered. "I talked to Jacob."

"Jacob?" her brow arched, curiously. "Never knew he was such a voyeur. So Jacob saw her with Hock? Wow … intense. Wonder if he always likes to just watch."

"He didn't watch." He snapped though his expression clouded in drunken confusion. He ducked his head, elbow planted on the table as his hand held his head up.

"Oh I see. So what you're saying is that you're assuming that she and Hock got a little busy. Come on, Shep, you're better than that. Did you even ask her about it?"

"No. Jacob saw her … ugh." He pressed his lips together to hold back his burp. "Fuck. Uhm … Jacob … Jacob saw her kiss him."

"A kiss?" Kasumi smiled and her shoulders slouched slightly as she extended a hand towards Shepard, fingers wiggling. "Oooo, scary. Oh no, a kiss. Because obviously when a girl kisses a man she must immediately sleep with him. So now, we have the main question here. The main question is … do you trust her?"

He glanced up, glaring at the woman across from him with hazy, glassy eyes. "What kind of fuckin' question is that?" he drawled.

"A simple one really. And the answer is clear." She jumped to her feet, finishing the drink. "No, you don't trust her. Which means that if you plan on getting ripped about this assumption with Hock, you may want to just ask her about it."

"This ain't about … about trust," he sliced a hand through the air as he swayed to his side. He closed his eyes and his stomach lurched. "Fuck …" he exhaled slowly, inhaled then exhaled again. "… isn't about … about trust." He paused. "I'm gonna be sick."

"Not in here, you're not," Kasumi stepped back. "I don't clean grating. So you better start moving now so you can make it to the toilet."

"Maybe I uh … I shoulda had more than that … that uh … uhm protein bar … like way before. Uhm … before." He pushed back from the counter. "Yeah. Ok, I'm good. Just need to walk." He stumbled around the bar and his brow narrowed in concentration as he glared at the door. Focused and intent on every step, Shepard managed to get to the elevator and kept the contents of his stomach in place on the slow ride to his quarters. He made it to the bathroom just in time.

A few hours later, he woke with a moan, eyes slowly fluttering open. He winced at the bright lights. Laying on his stomach on the bathroom floor, his head facing towards the metallic toilet, he draped his arm over his eyes to block the offending lights.

"Commander," Joker stated through the communications. "Commander? Helloooooo."

"What is it, Joker!" he growled, voiced husked and dried. He winced and licked his parched lips, swallowing the nauseating taste in his mouth.

"There you are. Was gettin' a bit worried. We'll be in orbit around Haestrom in half an hour."

"Fine! Thanks." He snapped and as Joker muttered something into the communications feed, Shepard pressed his hands into the floor and slowly pushed up. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He cursed a few times and finally managed to stagger to his feet.

Leaning heavily against the counter, he brushed his teeth and gargled with the precious fresh water a few times before forcing himself to drink some. Turning from the sink, he wiped around the toilet and floor with a towel then kicked it to a corner before stepping under the shower head, fully dressed. He flicked the water on and closed his eyes, letting the soothing liquid pour over his head and face, soaking his clothes.

Sighing in relief, he slowly peeled the clothes off his body and tossed them aside by the towel. The wet clothes landed with a splat. His boots followed with a thud. He washed himself with the plain soap at the side then lingered under the warm water a few extra minutes. Jerking the last clean towel from the hook behind the door, he dried his hair, half his body and wrapped the towel around his waist, ignoring the water on his legs.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes as he rested a hand against the wall beside the door in a vain attempt to ground the spinning room. Exiting the bathroom, he walked slowly along the side of the desk and winced at the bright lights from the aquarium on the wall. He shielded his eyes and turned to step down the stairs.

"You have a very interesting way of preparing for a ground side mission."

He stopped at the familiar voice and sighed, closing his eyes and ducking his head. "I'm fine, Miranda."

"Really? So you usually get yourself absolutely pissed before leading a dangerous rescue mission on a planet with a huge geth presence in an attempt to get one of your ex-crewmates to join our squad."

"You know, a little less bitchiness would be greatly appreciated." His lips tweaked in a sarcastic attempt at a charming smile as he turned and sat on the edge of the bed. "Thanks." With a groan he ducked his head into his hands and sighed.

She arched a brow, surprised. "You're still drunk, aren't you?"

"Don't have to be drunk to know when you're bein' nagged." He commented.

"What's with you?" she asked, confused as she stood and walked towards him, peering down. When he didn't look up, her confusion fled replaced by impatience and annoyance. "I don't suffer foolishness, idiocy or sloppiness. You've earned my trust, Shepard, but there is no way in hell I would go down onto that planet with you in this condition. Now get yourself sober and ready before you even think about taking that shuttle down."

As she walked away from him he looked up, eyes narrowed on her retreating back. "I wasn't going to ask you down with me anyway."

She paused at the door to his quarters and twisted at the waist to look back at him. Her expression guarded though still confused with the hint of masked hurt. Her lips parted as if to speak but she changed her mind and inclined her head in acknowledgement. "Alright, Commander." Her voice tinged in perfect professionalism as icy walls slowly erected. She left.

Muttering a curse, he pushed to his feet. "Miranda, wait." He groaned and lifted his hand to his head, closing his eyes. "Stupid … dumbass." He forced his eyes open and dragged his feet towards his armor. "Think better!" he demanded of himself and punched his fist against the aluminum drawers. Shaking out the pain in his hand, he struggled to get ready for his next mission, forcing his head clear.

Shepard dove behind the fallen column, ducking out of the incoming geth fire. He winced, shifting his weight as his sprained knee trembled. He glanced to either side and peeked over the top to spot his team. Garrus pressed tightly against a crate while Jack ducked low ten meters ahead. Shepard pulled back again and fiddled with the sniper rifle on his back. His head swam, body sore and ached. His mouth dry, he suffered from dehydration.

His back throbbed near the shoulders where two bullet wounds pierced his armor when geth flanked him. He curiously wondered why Miranda didn't warn him if she saw it approach. The tender point behind his ear burned and he clenched his teeth against the pain.

In her office, Miranda swiped her fingers over the console on her desk, accessing the chip implanted in Shepard via remote and effectively triggered a short, frying the delicate circuit board. Her eyes glanced to the video feed and though she heard and watched the combat, she remained silent even when geth flanked the Commander. She looked away, ignoring his grunts of impact, his pants and his muttered curses. Despite his physical condition, he still maneuvered his team with precision, kept them in safe cover but without regard for himself.

Scratching and metallic scraping resounded through the communication device as he switched the microphone. "Miranda? Can you hear me?"

She turned her attention to the cameras, watching his video feed though she remained quiet.

"Look I … there may be something messing up the communications." He ducked lower as more bullets grazed over his head. He muttered a few curses then swung his assault rifle up and lay down a stream of suppressive fire to allow his team to move forward. He ducked down again and slammed the heel of his hand against the gun to eject the clip. "It's hot down here. I … Can you hear me?"

She bit her lip to keep from responding.

He cursed again as his knee twisted and he slumped down, landing hard as he adjusted his position. "I lied. Last night. I am not fucking ok … with you and Hock."

"Shepard!"

He peered up over the crate and drew his sniper rifle as he watched geth troopers closing in on a pinned down Jack. "Shit … shit." He smashed his hand along his helmet to switch the com. "Jack. Hang on. Stay low." He aimed through the fire, ignoring the bullets puncturing his armor. He fired.

Miranda jumped at the unexpected sound, the blasting explosion with the powerful sniper shot. She resisted only a moment longer before reaching for the small earbug and slipping it into her ear. Adjusting the frequency, she activated the device. Though she remained quiet, she focused on him and the mission. After he spoke to Kal'Reeger and convinced the wounded quarian to stay down, she quickly searched the surrounding area, looking for an advantage to take on not only the geth, but the powerful geth Colossus.

"Shepard," Miranda said, firmly. "Stay low. Keep your team spread thin, draw the fire away. Go to the right for a higher vantage point, left will take you closer quarters – more dangerous but an easier shot."

There was silence at first and when he spoke, she heard a small smile in his voice. "Hey."

She couldn't help but smile. "Hey. No distractions now. Be careful." She sobered as he barked orders, positioning his team in the safest positions then opted for the lower ground, diving behind crates. Miranda offered little else in his ear as he focused. Garrus sniped wandering troopers while Shepard moved slowly forward with assault rifle and shotgun. Only with a constant barrage from his heavy weapon, did the Colossus finally fall. Injured, exhausted but alive, Shepard emerged victorious and entered the previously locked door to find Tali.

As the shuttle docked in the Normandy bay, Shepard sat alone on one of the benches, watching Tali pace impatiently at the shuttle door. "Thank you for coming with me."

She paused at the door and faced him, piercing white eyes finding his through the helmet. "You better be right about this, Shepard."

"Trust me, Tali. I know what I'm doing."

"I believe I've heard that before," she commented dryly.

Garrus grinned. "He says that a lot. Just be prepared to take a rocket to the face during a part of his plan."

"Hm. Just like old times then." Tali stated and twisted the handle of the shuttle to open the door and jump out onto the grating of the docking bay.

Miranda stood at the door between the hangar and the rest of the ship. In her honeycombed white cat suit, she leaned casually into a hip, one side dipped with her arms crossed over her chest. Tall, proud and confident, she lifted her chin as Tali approached. The quarian stopped and turned her head to look at Miranda. Both stared intensely. Dismissive, Tali turned away and exited.

"This'll be fun," Jack said with a mischievous grin as she approached Miranda. "Better watch out, Cheerleader. You're getting out numbered."

Miranda offered no verbal response as Jack. After Garrus exited the hangar, she waited for Shepard.

Finally, Shepard exited the shuttle and reached up to jerk at the fasteners of his helmet. He lifted the armor off his head and sighed at the freedom. He limped towards the hangar door, his knee throbbing.

Frowning at his limp, Miranda pushed off the wall and entered the hangar. As she neared him, he slowed and searched her expression. She reached out, running slender gentle fingers along his armor, feeling into the scattered bullet holes in search for blood; she found some in one. "You're limping."

"I know."

She slipped her fingers along his side and splayed her palm at the scorched metal where a rocket whizzed too close. "You should see Dr. Chakwas."

"I will," he whispered, watching her intensely.

She nodded and her hand abandoned his side to cup his cheek. "Then we'll talk."

"Yeah," he agreed and offered a small smile as she stepped back from him and left the hangar bay.

He washed and changed into his casual attire before visiting Tali. He spent over two hours with her, catching up, asking about her and easing his friend's concerns about their situation and the ship. At least she seemed pleased with the drive core. If anything won her, it was the engineering of the new Normandy. As he left the engineering bay, his sprained knee seized, swollen from his lack of medical attention.

Limping slowly to the doctor's quarters, he flashed an apologetic smile. "Guess who?"

"Ah, I've been waiting for you. Operative Lawson was here hours ago telling me to expect you. It's good to see you finally decided to visit."

"I had some things to take care of first." He winced as he managed to walk towards the nearest bed and turned, pulling himself back up onto the bed to sit. "Just a sprain. Some holes that will heal. You know. The usual."

Doctor Chakwas simply shook her head and began examining the small wounds on his chest and shoulders. She treated the deeper wounds, applying medi-gel and patching others. She knelt at his feet, helping him pull up a strong supportive fabric knee brace and arranged it properly around the joint. "How's that?"

"Little stiff. I have a feeling the seams are going to piss me off but it's alright."

"It's just for a couple days. While it stabilizes."

"Thanks. I'll be careful." He pushed to his feet and tested the brace and his balance. Comfortable with its placement, he pulled down his pant leg and slipped his boot back on before tugging his shirt over his head. Leaving the medical bay with a more controlled limp, he crossed the mess hall for Miranda's office. Pausing outside, he frowned at the sound of the Illusive Man's voice.

"What do you mean the chip fried?"

"Just like I said, sir," Miranda answered. "An explosion probably too close to him. Something with a frequency. Not sure. But the chip is dead."

"Then replace it."

"Can't do that. It's embedded already and to put another in would be disastrous."

"Find a way, Miranda. I don't accept failure."

"With all due respect, sir, I …" she trailed off and sighed, muttering something.

Teeth clenched, Shepard stormed into the office with blazing and fiery eyes. Miranda turned quickly to the door at his entry, brow raised in surprise. "Shepard?"

"When," he snarled, accusing and pointed a finger. "When did you put a fucking chip in my head?"

She opened her mouth to respond but bit back her retort and simply searched his eyes, confident yet oddly beseeching.

Blinded by his hurt and anger, he pressed his hands onto her desk, leaning forward to glare at her. "What? I asked you a question, Lawson. When did you put the chip in my head?" At her continued silence, he shook his head and stepped back. "You know what? Nevermind!" he snapped. "I can't trust you. You fuck Hock. You put a chip in my head …" His teeth clench and he turned, leaving with a slight limp.

She muttered a curse after he left and leaned over her console, drawing agile fingers over its controls. She quickly redirected part of the power and overloaded the circuits throughout Shepard's chambers, cutting power to the lighting and she hoped disabling any cameras or microphones. She thought she knew of every bug and camera on board the Normandy, at least until Mordin handed her two cameras on top of the number of which she was aware.

Shepard stomped into his chambers, ignoring the increased throbbing in his leg as he eased down the stairs. The lights flickered in his room then turned off. He paused and looked towards the ceiling. "Really? So this is what we're doing now?" The lights returned, lower than usual as the power slowly reverted.

The door to his quarters opened and Miranda stepped inside, expression determined and emotion masked. Her eyes narrowed at his threatening glare. "We have five minutes, so listen up because I will not be repeating myself."

"Woah woah, you do not come in here and put that kind of ultimatum out there. What the hell are you talking about?"

Her eyes narrowed. "There are bugs on this ship that I don't know about. So we have five minutes until EDI can restore the power to the grid in your room. Now listen very closely." She stepped to him, shoulders squared and posture confident. "I did what I had to do to keep you safe and make sure I stayed on this mission."

"Bullshit."

She matched his dangerous and brooding glare with one of her own. "If I didn't do what I did, I would not be on this ship. I would have been replaced with someone who would have had no reservations about putting a control chip in your head. And they wouldn't have done what I did and had the intended chip duplicated. What I put in you is nothing more than a tracking device. One that I short circuited while you were ground side before the Illusive Man tried to activate what he thought would be a control chip."

He laughed, incredulous. "What? That's supposed to make it better? Miranda," he pointed to his head. "You put a fucking chip in my head!"

"A chip that was nothing more than a tracker. The alternative was one that would control your mind. Would you have preferred that?"

"That is not the point," he growled. "When did you do it, huh? That why you warmed up to me? Slept with me?"

Blinking slowly, defensive walls slowly erecting, she crossed her arms over her chest. "Is that what you really think?"

Anger burned within him though it dissipated slowly, replaced with betrayal and hurt. He sighed, walking away from her to sit on the couch at the far end. "I don't know what to believe. I thought I could trust you."

"You can!" She followed him and sat near – not beside him. "I did this to … I was protecting you."

He scoffed, shaking his head with a forced smile. "You have a funny way of showing that."

"Don't you understand? He wanted to ensure you would do exactly what he wanted when he wanted. He wasn't convinced you were totally on his side. On … on our side." She frowned. "Cerberus's side."

"Our side?" He glanced to her. "If this is Cerberus's side, what else have you put in me?" his eyes narrowed in accusation.

"Nothing," she whispered and ducked her head, eyes downcast. "I had to think fast. I had no intention of being reassigned. We need you intact. I don't know what he's thinking, what he wants. But after all the hell he put me through to keep me from putting a chip in your head at the beginning, I am not letting him renege on that now. There's too much at stake and you've proven yourself more than capable."

"Why didn't you just ask?"

She looked up at his whispered question, confused and searched his open expression. "What?"

He shrugged, motioning to her with a slight hand gesture. "Why didn't you just ask me? Come to me, tell me what was happening. Whisper in my ear … talk to me when we were planet side. Tell me what you wanted to do." He sighed and looked away to the aquarium across the room. "I would have let you."

"Shepard …" she whispered.

"But you go behind my back. You just … I'm not an experiment anymore. I'm not some lab monkey you can tweak and bend, bug and pinch to do what you think is right. So when did you do it? When you kissed me? Where is it?" He pushed to his feet and walked up the stairs, cutting quickly to the left to enter the bathroom. He squinted, leaning close to the mirror as his eyes slowly scanned his features: first his brow, along his eyes then nose. He opened his mouth and lifted his tongue.

Lights dim and low, he leaned closer to try to see but any details faded into the darkness with the battery powered low emergency lighting. Clicking heels announced her arrival in the bathroom, rhythmic and haunting. She stood by the door entrance within feet of him, watching. Finally she reached out; he flinched from her touch, offering an angry glare. She hesitated a moment, holding his eyes with coolness. Taking a step towards him, her fingers slid along the back of his ear, stroking the point where she planted the bug. "Right here."

His eyes closed at her touch, a mixture of pleasure and pain at the intimate gesture. When he opened his eyes, they were cool, chilled and fierce. "Take it out."

"I can't."

Facing her, he snarled. "Can't or won't."

"Both!" she responded with conviction. "If I try to extract it, there is an eighty five percent chance that I will sever important nerves. And if by some miracle I did extract it, I would be ordered to put in another. At least with one in place …" She cut off her words as the lights brightened.

"Power restored," EDI announced. "Is everything alright, Commander?"

"Just fine," he answered though his eyes held Miranda's. "Thank you, EDI."

She took a step back, arms crossed as she leaned back into her hip. Chin high, she waited, challenging though her gaze gave way her uncertainty.

He paused, both gathering his thoughts and wanting to make her squirm. Finally, he responded. "I need to be able to trust you. How can I do that?" Sighing, he shook his head. He pushed away from the counter. "I thought I'd be ok. But I'm just not. I get that it was all professional and you did what you felt you needed to do to give me time. But you slept with Hock! How could you just … do that?"

She frowned. "I didn't sleep with Hock."

"What?"

"You only needed fifteen minutes at most. Plus the half hour or so prior to get the DNA on his wineglasses like you asked."

Doubt weighted on him, uncertain what to believe. He refused to back down. "You were going to seduce him. You kissed him."

"And I kept him distracted with that kiss so he didn't send all his guards to the vault when one of you triggered something suspicious on a camera." She answered with a toss of her head.

Sighing, he ducked his head and closed his eyes. "Miranda," defeated, tired and his shoulders slumped. "I don't want to fight. I can't. I just … I told you I was ok and I'm not. I just need to know. I need to know what you did with him." He struggled to lift his head to look at her again.

"We talked business over wine," she answered professionally. "Then when I knew I needed to buy you more time, yes I kissed him and we went back to his room." She leaned towards him, hands on the counter. Close to him, her voice lowered. "Donovan Hock is an … was an easy man to manipulate. All he cared about was prestige, money and sex in that order. We had a little more wine, I offered to massage his back and then asked him about his antique weapon collection. Stroked his ego. And before you ask – No, I had no intention of killing him to make your job easier. He was a valuable contact and I wasn't going to lose that if I didn't have to. I'm an operative, not an assassin." She paused a moment before inquiring. "If you didn't trust me … why did you stay with me last night? Why didn't you just tell me? Ask me?"

He hesitated in his answer, averting his eyes to stare at himself in the mirror.

"You know what … nevermind."

When she pushed off the counter, he forced the answer. "I wanted to … just make sure you were …"

"I was what?"

"You were mine!" He snapped and pushed off the counter as well, raking a hand over his short hair in frustration. "I wanted you to … to make sure you knew me and I just had this … urge to … claim …" At her infuriating arched brow, he stepped back slightly.

"How ridiculously … bloody prehistoric of you!" she exclaimed and without a glance behind her, she left him in the bathroom.

"Don't walk away from me," he snapped and followed her. When she stopped, he pointed an accusatory finger at her back. "I don't know why I lied to you last night. Maybe because I wanted you to think that I could play on your terms. And for the most part, I can. But not on these terms. I don't share."

She spun to face him. "Neither do I. So make sure you inform that little quarian in the engine room before she starts following you around like an abandoned pet." She closed her eyes, releasing some of her frustration in a slow exhalation as she gently brushed her fingertips over her strained brow. "Shepard … look, I don't know … we have so much to do. And we will be going after that Reaper tech to prepare us for the jump. We can't afford to be distracted." She dropped her hand and met his eyes. "Maybe it's best if we just try to focus on that."

His eyes narrowed. "No!" he closed the distance between them. "I'm not letting you run away from this. I asked you if this is what you want and you said it is. You're not backing out because it gets hard." He boldly cupped her cheek in his palm. "If I'm expected to throw myself to the Collector's and sacrifice myself for humanity and the galaxy …" he trailed off before whispering. "Maybe it makes me selfish to want something to come back for."

"I'm not good at this, Shepard," she admitted softly.

"Me neither," he answered with a small smile and ducked his head slightly to press his forehead to hers. He sighed, closing his eyes to savor. "Stay with me tonight."

She swallowed hard, resting a hand on his chest then sliding it up to his shoulder. "We're going to be on Illium in two hours."

He growled in frustration and eased back from her. He smiled sadly and shook his head. "Will it ever end? Or will I have to be dead?"

She returned his smile though shallow and forced. "Even if it does end and we get out, what …"

He silenced her with a tender soft kiss. "We'll figure it out then. Let's get there first."

Submitting to him, she stepped into him and slipped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Her eyes closed as she sighed, relaxing into him.

"If it came down to it with Hock, could have you …" he trailed off unable to finish the question.

Quiet a long moment, she finally answered. "I never doubted my ability to do whatever I had to do before. But I really don't know. You never know what you're willing to do until the moment is presented. Have you never made a call where if you thought of it prior, you never would have chosen the option?"

"You know I have."

"Same thing." She eased back slightly to search his eyes.

"Doesn't mean I like the idea of some slimy smuggler admiring you like that or touching you. I'm glad I killed him." He admitted. "We're both a little burned right now. But there is nobody else I would rather have beside me on a battlefield or in my bed." His arms tightened and he whispered in her ear. "We don't have the time to waste, being angry or fighting. Like I said, it still stings but don't run." Smiling, he pressed a kiss to her throat. "You drive me absolutely crazy sometimes."

She released him, stepping back. "The feeling is mutual."

"I should have trusted you. I just … my jealousy got a hold of me. I'm sorry."

Her defensive icy walls melted at the apology and she ducked her head with a small smile. "I'm sorry too, for making you jealous. I should have just told you what I was going to do. I want you to trust me, Shepard. I'm not good at this but I know we are supposed to trust each other."

"I know. Come down to Illium with me?" His hand lingered on her side. "I know you like your time. Go on and get ready. I'll meet you at the airlock when we dock."

She smiled at his display of trust and agreed.

Note: Thanks for the hits and the reviews. I never expected such intense reactions and mistrust for Miranda but I love that my story has invoked such emotions. Please, never hesitate to share your reviews with me. I love reading feedback. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.