A/N: Once again, this chapter has sexual content that you can read in full on AO3, Making Good by Minque.

James lay on his bunk in the crew quarters, arm draped over his eyes to block out the light as he dozed. It'd been a handful of hours since they'd returned from Despoina but he had a whole day-night cycle before he was back on duty properly. A buzz from his omnitool woke him and he blinked bleary eyes as a message from Shepard appeared.

Come up when you have time.

He cocked an eyebrow. That was possibly the politest thing Shepard had ever sent him. He contemplated leaving her hanging for a bit but that hadn't been this style before, so it shouldn't be now. He swung his legs off his bunk and stood, muscles protesting. Chakwas had fixed him for the most part, but in his line of work he didn't want to get hooked on painkillers for every boo-boo. He'd seen too many good soldiers go down that path. Addiction was a curse. His dad had proven that.

James made his way to Shepard's cabin. Like it did before Rannoch, the door opened for him automatically. Like the night of Rannoch though, Shepard sat on the couch, a drink in hand while she read something on a datapad. She put down the datapad and gave him a wry smile when his gaze flickered to the drink.

'Don't worry. It's apple juice,' she said, shaking the glass.

It had worried him. A bit of nervousness leaked from his shoulders, but he maintained his parade rest in front of her coffee table. Silence was his best bet right now, especially since her hair curled at the ends from dampness and the strawberry smell was strongest when her hair wasn't dry. That scent still short-wired his brain as effectively as being beaten by a brute.

She placed her glass on the table and stood. He willed her not to come over, but she did, standing within reach. Strawberries teased the very edge of his senses, and he couldn't help inhaling a little deeper. She studied his face for long enough that his nose started itching and he tightened his grip on his hand behind his back to stop from scratching it. He didn't know what she was waiting for and nervousness had him focusing his attention on a spot over her shoulder.

'I'm sorry for what I said after Rannoch,' she said in a soft voice he hadn't heard from her before. He lost his concentration on that spot over her shoulder and looked at her again. She continued, 'It was cruel.'

This was Shepard, his Shepard. She wasn't laying herself bare—that seemed anti-Shepard—but she wasn't trying to shut him out either. The opposite, actually, which floored him.

After a few beats where he tried to read where this was going and ended up short, he said, 'No shit.'

Annoyance marred her brow, but she let it go. When she spoke again, her hands waved in the air like she was batting away words and grasping others that didn't really make sense once they were strung together. 'Look, I've had people… been with people… but it's been a long time since... since I had someone… someone.'

He blinked. 'Someone someone?'

Shepard scrubbed a hand over her face and spun away from him. She snatched up her drink and downed it. A grimace passed over her face like she'd just realised that apple juice was not fortifying like alcohol was.

'You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?' she asked, facing him again.

'I have no idea what you want to say, Shepard, so no.'

A scowl passed over her face and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth to chew on. He did have an idea of what she was getting at, but it could be the wrong idea and while he wasn't someone who always had to be right he definitely didn't want to be wrong about this.

Shepard must have made up her mind about what she wanted to say when she put her hands on her waist and invaded his personal space again. 'You don't get to fuck me and leave when you're done and then offer a shoulder to cry on when I'm trying to handle my shit the way that usually works for me.'

His thoughts stuttered over her words—that it was his choice to leave. He matched her frown and said, 'I don't leave when I'm done. I leave when you're done. You roll away from me like you want me to go.'

Shepard's frown melted and for the first time James could track all her emotions. Her expression slid into surprise and then, annoyingly, into amusement.

'You've got to be kidding me.' She started laughing, which didn't help his mood. 'I'm a biotic. I'm constantly too hot. Why do you think my room is so cold compared to the rest of the ship?'

He stared at her while she continued to laugh. He scrolled back through his memories of her feverish skin against his hands, of her commenting on the comfortable temperature of Noveria's settlement when his balls felt like they were going to freeze off even in climate-controlled armour, of her shunning hot drinks for iced ones no matter the temperature.

'Are you telling me I just wasted a week being pissed at you because I couldn't figure out that you were too hot to hug?' he asked.

She sobered then. 'No. You spent a week mad because I wanted to hurt you.'

'You did.'

She dropped her gaze and said quietly, 'I didn't expect to.'

So he was right when he'd been reflecting on the softness of her expression on Desponia. Shepard cared; she just didn't know what to do with it. That, and she thought he didn't care. He reached out to run his fingers along her cheek until they curled in her hair. She leaned into his touch, her eyes drifting closed.

This was another ledge they were teetering on. The first one all those weeks ago, when he'd first kissed her in this room, was a false precipice. They had to take a leap now to fall properly, and this time it was Shepard who jumped first. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his shoulder, hugging his bruised ribs tight enough that he winced and she murmured an apology. He breathed in the scent of strawberries that he'd been missing, one hand tangled in her hair and the other around her shoulders. She fit in his arms like she was meant to be there and when she lifted her face and he brushed his lips softly against hers it was like coming home.

This kiss was different. It was tentative and slow and exploratory, like they hadn't spent hours kissing and more before today. She tasted of apples, not whiskey or asari alcohol. Great, now there was another fruit that was going to give him inappropriate thoughts. Shepard's hands snuck underneath his shirt, meandering over his back, reacquainting herself with muscles that jumped when she dragged her nails against them.

The kiss turned heated as Shepard guided him backwards until his calves hit the bed and he sat. Shepard climbed into his lap with less desperate aggression than she had before she'd kicked him out a week ago. She returned to devouring his mouth, and when she rocked against his groin his hands tightened against her hips.

'You're not a bottle of whiskey, James,' she said against his lips.

'I'm obviously a bottle of tequila.' He smirked and pressed her harder against his lap. 'A big bottle.'

Shepard did that low huff of laughter that always scattered his thoughts. 'That's not what I meant.'

'I know what you meant, Lola, but I'm a little too distracted for talking.' He proved the point by trailing his lips down her neck as his hands made fast work of her BDUs and the bra underneath.

'Is this the part where you remind me that you've thought of a lot of ways of shutting me up?' she asked, and he answered by dipping his head to her chest, which did get her to stop talking. There was a time for conversation and this wasn't it.

It'd only been a week since he'd touched her and more than a week since they'd had sex but it felt like a month. Like a year. Like forever. He'd never get enough of her. This time it felt different though. Before, their coupling had been fuelled by either the adrenaline of surviving yet another battle or Shepard's frustration at being thwarted by a galaxy full of people unwilling to trust her. This time they took their time mapping each other's bodies like it was uncharted territory. In a way, it was.

He let her set the pace, foreheads pressed together and gazes locked. Watching her like this had an intimacy that he—that they both—had refused to connect with when they were convinced the other was only there for the sex. Now he let himself truly get lost in hazy green eyes and strawberries and the soft kisses she fluttered across his lips and cheeks and jaw. It was sweet in a way it couldn't have been when they'd first acted on what was between them. Their pace turned frantic, as always, and when she shattered he followed soon after, clutching her like she was his tether to the real world. His face was buried in her neck as he basked in the aftermath. Her pulse raced against his lips, her heart against his chest. He wanted every time to feel like this and every time only with her.

'You are amazing, Shepard,' he whispered against her neck and she laughed. It had a disbelieving edge to it like she was unused to compliments, which was ridiculous since he'd heard people compliment her before and she responded with a laugh that said she knew exactly how amazing she was. He let it go. They had a lot of issues but they could talk when there wasn't a whole night cycle ahead of them and a week of making up to do.

He rolled them over, slipping from her warmth to shuck the rest of his clothes. She watched him with hooded eyes, a sly little smile on her face even as satiation softened her usually hard expression. 'So… are you gonna make good on the other ways you've imagined getting me to shut my mouth?'

James grinned, crawling up the bed while planting kisses along her flushed skin until he murmured in her ear, 'At least twice.'

A/N: I did write an extra chapter set during and after the destroy ending, but it was bittersweet and for once I just want these two to close on a happy note. I hope you enjoyed this dance I made Shepard and James go through :) If you liked it, please consider leaving a review!