"Sparring," is his excuse to Chakwas, who gives him a hard stare as he peels out of his top to roll onto the cold table, eyes closing to avoid any other questions.
He's ordered to spend the night in the med bay and when he returns to their quarters the following night, she's back in the top bunk, glasses on her nose with a book on upraised thighs.
"Can we talk?" he asks when she removes her glasses, tucking them and the book into a drawer before turning onto her side.
"Nothing to talk about DeClan. I thought I was very clear the last time we talked. Now leave me alone. You were laid up in med bay while the rest of us were getting ready for the next mission and I'm tired."
Over the years he's learned the inflections of her voice and unlike the other day he accepts that this is not a battle he will win.
He also knows that if he pushes she will find somewhere else to sleep and it doesn't matter where they are right now or how mad she is at him, he needs her close.
She throws herself into her work the following days.
There's a PT test, weapons training and qualification, she even has Joker put the ship through it's paces, as well as simulation training to test the safety harnesses and the ship's drive core capacity.
Every night she showers with the rest of the crew, climbs into her bunk and falls asleep without talking to him.
They are a week into their disagreement when he corners her in the cabin, his mouth going to hers as he whispers, "I'm sorry Adan."
He teases the corner of her mouth, uses his teeth to tug at her lower lip trying to coax her into the kiss, pulling out all the tricks he knows she likes but she doesn't rise to the bait.
"You're not sorry," she whispers when he buries his face in her neck. "You've never liked when I've called you on your bullshit and you figure we can kiss and make up and all will be right in your world."
He cups her face, "The last time we did this they separated us. I don't want that to happen again and I didn't realize that you might really feel something for him. I thought it was casual."
Her eyes have taken on an icy blue tint he's never seen as she speaks, "Have you known me to sleep with someone more than once and it be casual?"
He searches her eyes, "No, but then you said you were serious about Preston yet you weren't fucking her but someone else and me. You were serious about that person, not that little girl. You were so serious about that person you didn't tell me who they were."
He steps back out of her space, "You were so serious that I didn't hear anything about that person and when you took off for wherever the hell you met him, you didn't even tell me."
He runs both hands over his head, the stubble rasping through the cabin, "Why, out of all the men on this ship? Why him Daron?"
Her face softens, eyes warming as her lips pull into a smile.
"He sees me when he looks at me. Not Commander Shepard, not the Butcher and not the ruthless tactician and biotic that go with those titles. He sees me; Daron Adan Shepard. He gets me DeClan. Do you know how that makes me feel? That I don't have to pretend that I'm soft. That I don't have to pretend to be prey. To dress up, twirl my hair and giggle," her gaze is unfocused when she finishes.
He's never told her but he sees her, too.
She was never one to wear makeup.
She doesn't need it, her only concession is the red tinted lip balm that graces her lips.
Dark red eyebrows wing above wide eyes with irises that shift and change to give away her every emotion and mood.
She's muscular without losing the softness at her breast and hips, despite all those physical things it's her hair.
It was her hair that caught his attention.
He'd fallen in love with her hair first then her.
Now all genetic defects are removed after conception, red hair is a defect and to find it is a rarity.
Adan's is a titan red with deep gold and copper highlights that falls down her back in a riot of waves and spirals to rest beneath the curve of her ass.
When they are together, her hair is an entity apart from her.
It is a warm weight that caresses him, a veil or warm hands when they kiss and when he buries his hands in it, it spirals and wraps around them and his wrists as if it's alive.
She has used it to hold him tighter or to push him farther away if that is what she wanted.
Her eyes follow his hand, then meet his when he strokes then buries his hand into her hair.
"I see you Adan, I've always seen you," his voice is soft.
With a shake of his head he makes an admission that scares him, "I don't know how to show you without showing it to everyone else. He, our father, taught you how and when to either peek or drop your mask completely."
He cards a hand through her hair before he cups her head, his lips close to hers, "Especially when you want and need to let those you care about inside it. I don't know how to do that, it's all or nothing with me. I thought that was what you loved about me."
She closes her eyes, hiding behind her lids, as she whispers.
"No DeClan, I don't choose to love bits and pieces of you. I love all of you and unlike you I love you enough to know when to let you go. I would be happy to have you all to myself, but what I know and you've seemed to forgot is that someone will eventually figure it out. Someday, they will find out that we know and will never approve of us and neither will the Alliance. I have learned to share, you not so much."
She avoids his stare when her eyes open, "I have to go. Nihlus..."
He shutters his pain behind hard eyes that try to capture her own.
She smiles at the floor, a blush rising, "It's been a week since, well."
She slips beneath his arm, her hair trailing through his fingers, "Good night DeClan."