A/N 27 February 2012: Thanks to again GoogleFloobs for Theta reading help!

Disclaimer: Mass Effect is copyright of Bioware. Ci-Ci is mine.

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Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

2 November 2178— Torfan, Milky Way

Shepard sat in the landing craft, gun on his knees, eyes locked with Corinthia's. Being across from him, she decided to take the opportunity to make faces at him. He did his best not to snicker, but some of the ways her expression could contort were nothing short of hysterical.

"Alright, marines, this is it," Major Kyle radioed. As the mission's commanding officer, he was calling all the shots. Shepard was the XO and leading one of the hundred-man infiltration squads. At his behest, Corinthia was on his team instead of in charge of a squad of her own. Though capable, Shepard liked working with her. Her technical skills were unsurpassed and she made fights without mindless killing actually enjoyable.

She winked and stuck her tongue out at him. Despite the hitches in their relationship (meaning, her showing up at inopportune moments — including when Shepard was about to get laid — with questions or a desire to go do something), they had actually become friends. Neither was willing to admit just how much it meant to the other. To Shepard, she was the only person he could trust, to the point that he had even acknowledged that he was a member of a gang (though not which one). To Corinthia, he was simply everything: friend, family, a crush. She knew others and got along with them just fine, but she would drop everything and be with him if he asked. Did she like him? Yes, yes she did. Did he like her? No, no he didn't. Eighteen or not, she was still a kid in his head, one that he didn't want as a mentee and one who refused to let him influence her moralistically.

He shook his head. "You know, now might be a good time to get serious," he shouted over the roar of the engines.

"Eh, whatever," she answered, waving a hand in dismissal. As per usual, she wasn't taking his advice. Actually, she tended not to listen to his orders, either, when they were directed at her mood or personality. In a battle, she always did as he said unless she had a better idea, in which case she argued with him for five minutes until the point was moot, he won, or they came to some kind of middle ground.

"Helmets on!" Kyle radioed.

Corinthia pressed a button on her armor, the helmet rising and covering her head. She barely managed to sweep her bangs out of the way. She was still very self-conscious about her scars (especially around Shepard, for some strange reason) and she concealed them so well that very few people actually knew they existed.

Shepard put on his helmet, shaking his head at her. She was like a mockingbird, in the sense that she was attracted to "shinies". To her, shinies were: gadgets, gizmos, upgrades, and abdominal muscles (though why he was still unable to explain).

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing," he answered. "Just hope that comes off eventually."

"Spoil sport."

The other soldiers exchanged glances. Shepard wasn't the sort to tolerate rumor, so he'd made it abundantly clear that anything between himself and Corinthia was one hundred percent platonic. Besides, anyone who saw him at a bar knew that he usually went home with a woman (or two, Corinthia excluded, since she managed to disappear the moment he started hitting on someone). Still, that didn't stop them from wondering. They bantered like they were married, more often than not, and Shepard glared dangerously at anyone that looked at her wrong. So, no matter what Shepard or Corinthia attested, everyone assumed they were sleeping together, despite the differences of their ranks. A short investigation conducted by the military into their relationship revealed nothing but still, rumors persisted.

The shuttle slowed and landed. Torfan was a small moon with no atmosphere and just enough gravity to keep anyone on the ground. Pirates and mercenaries used the deep passages within Torfan as their bases, which were well hidden by the eerie blue light cast from the moon's parent. The blue gas giant filled the sky marking the barren landscape seem pale and colorless. The Alliance had spent two years tracking the batarian raiders responsible for the Skyllian Blitz and now they had them cornered.

Shepard undid his harness and had jumped onto the moon before Kyle had given the order. Seconds later, Corinthia landed at her side, her grin wider than usual.

"No messing around in the low grav," he ordered.

"You still refuse to throw me using biotics, so if this is the best I'm going to get, I'm going to take it," she answered haughtily.

Shepard shook his head. "I told you: on your birthday."

Behind them, a couple Marines couldn't suppress their laughter. Shepard rounded on them, snapping, "That's enough! You're soldiers, so you'd better fucking act like it."

"Sir!" they answered, saluting.

"Ranks, Lieutenant?" Corinthia murmured.

"Whatever," he answered. He didn't care if she ignored his rank, but when the other marines started talking, Corinthia was always the first to stop the snickering.

"Major, this is Shepard. We're at Alpha Base," Shepard radioed. "Permission to start Operation Flash Flood?"

"Granted," Kyle answered. "Good luck, Lieutenant. Kyle out."

Shepard smirked and turned to Corinthia. "Cut off all radio contact with him."

She blinked. "Uh... what? I mean, right away, Lieutenant." She opened her omni-tool and started working.

Shepard cracked his neck. "Ci-Ci, you're my second. Jacobs, Milton: take your squads and be my left and right flank. Sorin, my back."

"All external radio transmissions jammed, Lieutenant," Corinthia muttered.

"Theirs, too?"

"Theirs, too."

He nodded, satisfied. "Will Kyle be able to hack through?"

She snorted. "Yes, and he'll do it riding a unicorn over a rainbow. Of course he can't, Lieutenant. Like hell I'd leave a loophole like that."

"I get it," he answered. He glanced around and pulled her aside. "Listen, I didn't get a chance to tell you before we left, but I can't have any of your bullshit during this mission. I don't care how funny it is, just don't fuck this up for me."

Her expression softened and sobered. As harsh as he may have sounded, she knew very well that he was simply asking her to act serious during the mission. "I'm not going to do anything like that, Shepard. Promise."

"So you're going to take orders?"

"Yes."

"No matter what I ask?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What are you planning?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out." He backed away from her. "Find me some pirates to kill."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," she replied.

Shepard winced and glared at her. She blushed faintly beneath her helmet and muttered something about "unavoidable pirate jokes". In any other situation (especially if they were out drinking), Shepard might have played along, but he was in mission-mode, which meant that any distractions were not going to be tolerated.

"No sign of activity," Milton radioed.

"Same here, Lieutenant," Sorin added.

Corinthia's fingers danced through her omni-tool, screens extending that Shepard didn't even know were possible with the personal computer. "There's some kind of magnetic field blocking the readings, LT. There's about a one-mile buffer zone five klicks north."

"Show me," Shepard murmured, coming to her side. He scanned the map. "Then we're going there. Sorin, stay back and hold this position. Jacobs and Milton with me."

They advanced. Shepard's hands were already glowing with his biotics, but he was calm enough to keep his finger off of his assault rifle's trigger. He could feel Corinthia beside him, the orange glow of her omni-tool turning purple in the planet's blue light. Her tension was almost palpable. This was a good thing, because nerves made her focus all the more (at least in battle).

"Shepard! We've got company!" she shouted suddenly.

Shepard raised his weapon and looked around. "Where?"

"We just entered the magnetic bubble. Thirty meters at best. Looks — "

She didn't have time to finish as the mercenaries started shooting. Shepard automatically put a barrier around himself and Corinthia.

"I want to know where they are, how many there are, and what they've got," he ordered.

"On it," she replied, working quickly. "Don't worry about covering me; just shoot the bastards."

Shepard didn't need to be told twice. He dropped the field and began shouting orders for his squad to advance. "Sorin, get your ass down here!"

"We're outnumbered, sir!" a soldier called, panicking as the man next to him fell.

"YOU'LL DO WHATEVER THE FUCK I TELL YOU TO!" Shepard replied. "CI-CI! WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY MAPS?"

"I'm working on it!" she answered irately. "Don't push me, Johnny Boy, or else you won't get anything."

Shepard rolled his eyes and went back to her, ignoring the fire raining down on them and the bodies falling around him. Looming over her wasn't going to make her work any faster, but he could see what she was finding.

"I'm in," she announced a few seconds later. "They've got papier-mâché firewalls. Dolts..."

He put up another barrier between them and the enemy fire. "Give me the maps."

She flicked her fingers towards him, his omni-tool flaring to life and showing him the layout of the tunnels, complete with red dots for the enemies. He smirked cruelly. It might have been a bottleneck, but Shepard's unit wasn't outnumbered. After they passed the first fifty yards of tunnels, they'd be shooting fish in a barrel.

Below him, Corinthia took out her sniper rifle and went prone. "Three turrets, twenty mercs..." she murmured. After a steadying breath, she started shooting. She wasn't the best sniper in the Alliance by any means, but she could kill most un-shielded enemies in one shot.

Shepard stepped behind her, giving her cover fire as she removed the guards from their posts.

A moment later, she shouted, "CLEAR!"

Shepard sprinted forward, feeling her rather than hearing her follow directly behind him. His squad followed, confused and out of formation.

"Sir, we're taking heavy casualties!" Milton radioed.

"Just kill anything that moves," Shepard replied lowly, uninterested. He vaulted over a barricade, punching a merc so hard that the man's helmet fractured. The air escaped with a sickening hiss as the man's screaming signaled his blood boiling. Corinthia killed him out of mercy, grappling with another man a moment later. Shepard used his biotics to throw her attacker off and drag her to his side.

The mercenary camp was in uproar. They were well-equipped, but clearly hadn't expected the soldiers to make it this far. Shepard realized that he was probably the only one accustomed to hand-to-hand combat, but having Corinthia clutched to his chest wasn't going to help him in that regard.

She broke free of his grasp first, ducking and weaving towards a door. As per usual, she ignored the shots flying in her direction (even the ones hitting her shields, and what Shepard strongly suspected was actually her armor). He dispatched a merc heading in her direction, and then another and another... Before he even knew it, he was fighting to protect her, whilst his own troops fell like flies.

"SHEPARD? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" Kyle demanded.

"Getting inside, sir," Shepard replied casually.

"You're ignoring orders, soldier."

"I had my orders and I'm executing them... sir," Shepard hissed, cutting the transmission. "Ci-Ci, why the fuck is the Major talking to me?"

"Because I'm busy, that's why!" she answered, annoyed. "Besides, I'm trying to get into the turrets. They're picking us off like flies."

"Fuck that. Just get us inside," Shepard answered.

She stopped and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "You're kidding me, right?"

Instinctively, Shepard seized her throat. "You'll do whatever the fuck I tell you, Lieutenant," he hissed.

She threw him off. "Aye, aye, sir," she answered lowly.

Shepard had seen her annoyed before, but never truly angry. He shivered at the fire in her eyes (whether it was out of fear or something else he didn't know) and released her. Though not about to change his orders, he actually thought twice about it.

The door opened with a hiss. Corinthia ducked inside immediately to open the next door. Shepard opened his comm. "Milton and Jacobs, with me. Sorin, clean up out here. We aren't taking any prisoners."

"Sir," they all answered, going to execute his orders.

Shepard stood across from Corinthia, checking his assault rifle. "Doors in five, four, three, two, one..." she murmured. Right on time, the entrance opened. "Giving us an ear. ETA thirty seconds."

"Milton, you first. Jacobs, after me," Shepard ordered.

The soldiers pressed past him. Shepard hardly noticed that what had been seventy-five men was now barely forty. Corinthia, on the other hand, did. She frowned and glared at him. This wasn't the time for her to bring up any lover's tiffs — uh, arguments between friends, but she was damn tempted.

Shepard met her eyes. She shivered and retreated. There had been more than a few stories about the sort of monster he could be, but she'd never seen it. His mouth was twisted into a sadistic smile, his eyes were ablaze (almost literally, with his biotics nearly flowing out of them), and he seemed to pulsate with some kind of dark aura. He was already taller than her, but she felt tiny and insignificant. If they hadn't been friends, she would've run screaming — and she was still tempted to, anyway. Her heart raced and she inhaled sharply. Scared to death of him or not, he was sexy when he was pissed.

He stepped through the door, the remainder of his squad following. She remembered herself and scrambled to her feet.

"He's fucking insane," Jacobs muttered. "How the hell do you stand him, Lieutenant?"

Corinthia shook her head. "I'd answer, but he'd have both our heads."

"You mean my head. He wouldn't hurt you."

"The bruises on my neck suggest otherwise."

Jacobs snorted. "Fucking the commander, eh? No wonder why he keeps saving your ass instead of everyone else's'."

Corinthia raised an eyebrow, completely unaware of what she'd said. "What the hell are you talking about? We went from friendly fire to sex — This conversation is over, Sergeant." She moved ahead, blushing furiously when she realized what Jacobs had inferred from her comment. That'll teach you to keep your mouth shut...

The pirate tunnels wound around, proving to be more than deadly for the squad. There were bottlenecks every fifty yards. By the time Shepard's team cleared the area, there were only fifteen soldiers left standing. He himself had taken a shot to the head, which shattered his helmet and left him with a long gash going up into his hairline. The blood dripping down his face made Corinthia shiver, though she wasn't sure if it was out of fear or attraction.

Bodies lay strewn everywhere, Alliance and mercenary alike. Jacobs and the three men left from his team went around collecting dog tags. The seven men from Milton's squad helped the last three of Shepard's to find any extra mercenaries and kill them.

Shepard pushed a body off of the main controls. The entire tunnel system had led to a central command station, which controlled the turrets and dispatched orders to everyone. Corinthia had hacked and taken control of everything, thereby helping what was left of the Alliance soldiers under Major Kyle's command. She sat in a chair, manipulating buttons and screens. How she could multi-task twelve things, Shepard had no idea.

"Looks like their leader managed to escape," Corinthia announced.

"FUCK!" Shepard yelled, punching the controls. His chest heaved. After all of that, the man was still alive. "Goddamn mother fucking bastard..."

"This is Major Kyle," the man radioed, sounding weary and near-panicked. "What the hell happened down there, Shepard? Answer me!"

Shepard signaled for Corinthia to cut the transmission. She didn't. "We've taken the base. We're eliminating any remaining threats, sir," she replied.

"Who's this?"

"Lieutenant Corinthia-Imreas, sir."

"Why isn't Shepard answering me?"

"He's busy, sir. Corinthia out." She ended the transmission.

Shepard clenched a fist. "I gave you orders, Lieutenant."

She removed her helmet and shut off her comm. "The orders you gave got seventy-five men killed, Shepard," she hissed. "Like hell I'm going to listen to you now."

He rounded on her. "You'll do as I say!"

"FUCK YOU!" she screamed.

He clenched a fist, his biotics flaring dangerously. "Don't push me, Corinthia. I won't hesitate, Friend or not."

"Hah! I'd like to see you try!"

They locked eyes. As accustomed as he was to seeing her timid, seeing her angry, stubborn, and obstinate made her look... He wasn't sure if he could describe it. He relaxed, his biotics subsiding, though his gaze remained as cold and hard as ever. "I got the job done. It would've taken days if Kyle'd had his way. I did what I had to to get the job done, so don't you dare start screaming at me."

"Did what you had to? You never even tried to help anyone else!"

"I saved your ass more times that I care to count. Don't bitch at me for that!"

"Like I care! There are only twenty-five of us left. That means three-quarters of the men here died just because YOU had to run in head-first and not bother to plan ANYTHING!"

They were nose-to-nose. Her chest was heaving as she sucked in breath, her mind working overtime to think of new ways to yell at him. He prepared himself for another onslaught, but she relaxed and stepped away, her shoulders drooping and head hanging. "I'm sorry, Shepard, but it's just that everything happened so quickly that I don't think either of us noticed what was really happening. I've never seen you like this before and it's..." She shivered and rubbed one of her arms uncomfortably. "I'm scared of you. You know that, don't you?" she whispered.

He blinked. "You're... what?"

She took another step back from him. "I'm frightened of you."

Shepard cracked his knuckles. Nothing of what had happened bothered him, but the idea that Corinthia actually feared him was unnerving. Maybe he had thought her immune to his darkness, but she was cowering before him like a frightened rabbit. His eyes softened a little as he moved closer to her.

She retreated. "Don't..."

"I'm not going to hurt you, Ci-Ci," he told her as gently as he could.

She stopped moving away, though she didn't look convinced.

His hands landed on her shoulders. "You have to understand, Cassie... This is me, without any masks or anything held back. If you don't like it... There's nothing I can do about it. Killing is part of who I am. Not caring is part of that, too, and not bothering to protect anything except — Look, just... Please, don't look at me like... like I'm some kind of monster. I know that I am, but seeing you think it isn't... is... Fuck. You know what I mean, don't you?"

She sighed and relaxed. "Fine, but you're taking me out for my birthday, and this time you aren't allowed to make other plans. I don't want to walk in on your happy-fun-sexy-time again."

Shepard hadn't ever been embarrassed about having relationships before, but the way she'd put it made his stomach twinge with guilt. He raised his fingers to touch her cheek, but she twitched away before he could make contact. He dropped his hand, though he couldn't help but notice her flush. What the hell were you thinking? he thought, kicking himself mentally. "I promise. No women that night except you. Assuming I'm not court martialed before that."

She smiled gratefully. "Thank you... Look, do you need me to... smooth this over?"

He shook his head. "What's the point? The job's done. Like the Alliance will give a fuck that some grunt soldiers died in a fight. Saved them time and money, if you ask me."

Corinthia shuddered. "How can you be so cold?" she breathed, more to herself than to him.

He stiffened. For the first time in his life, he actually cared about what someone else thought of him. If it had been anyone else... Shepard liked his reputation. He enjoyed soldiers doing exactly what he asked since they were too afraid to fight back. He relished the sensation of people recognizing him and running in fear. The mission wasn't over, but he was pretty sure that there would be even more stories circulating before he even arrived back.

Perhaps he'd underestimated the value of friendship. Yes, he'd started talking to Corinthia because he thought she could be useful (which she undoubtedly was), but the dynamic had changed into something else, although he didn't know what. She'd gotten annoyed with him a few times about one thing or another, but not like this. His stomach plunged a little as a horrible thought crossed his mind: that she would break off their friendship.

"I can't tell you now," he answered quietly. "When we're off this rock. When I take you out. Ask me then."

"But — Alright." She ran her fingers through her hair and moved back to the controls. "Should I get Major Kyle back? Or try and get the Alliance?"

Shepard shook his head. "No point. Kyle's probably on his way over here already to chew me out."

"Not that you care."

"The man's a pussy. Like he'd even begin to intimidate me."

"So... How did I do?"

He smirked. "For someone your size, you can be a regular little spitfire."

"Uh..."

"I wasn't intimidated, but I was..." He trailed off. "Don't worry about it. This whole situation was out of the ordinary."

"Not for us," she muttered.

"Yeah, not for us..."

She hesitated before going back to him. "You've got blood on your face."

"Doesn't bother me," he growled.

"Oh... If you say so." She opened her omni-tool again and started doing... something.

"What is it this time?" he asked.

"Nothing, actually."

He covered her omni-tool hand with his. "Then stop messing around with it."

Jacobs coughed from the doorway. "Sir, Major Kyle is here. He wants to see you."

Shepard withdrew from Corinthia and wordlessly walked out the door.

Jacobs narrowed his eyes at Corinthia. "With all due respect, ma'am, it's a fucking insult that you two are in here making out after everything that just happened."

Corinthia clenched a fist. "Jacobs, I'm only going to say this once, so listen up. There is nothing between Shepard and me. Bring it up again and I'll tell the Alliance about your little fiasco on Illium."

Jacobs blanched. "How... How do you...?"

"Don't ask questions, Sergeant. Now, get back to your duties, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Corinthia sighed as the doors hissed closed. The only reason she said there was "nothing" between herself and Shepard was because he clearly didn't care for her the way she did him. However, what had happened was... disturbing. Akuze had been a bonding moment, but now she was re-thinking her attraction to the man. He'd been more than frightening; he'd been terrifying, possibly even horrifying. She wasn't looking forward to being alone with him, probably because one of them would start yelling at the other. They were both stubborn, and even though she usually let him win, she wasn't going to this time. He had to see what he'd done and understand that it wasn't a good thing.

"Evac's in six hours," Shepard radioed, his voice even more irate than ever. "You all have that long to clean up the mess."

7 November 2178—Norfolk, United North American States, Earth, Sol System

Shepard ordered Ci-Ci the girliest drink he could think of, whilst getting a beer for himself. She laughed when he set down the fluorescent pink, umbrellaed, fruit-accented, and bulbous glass in front of her.

"What the hell is this?" she asked between giggles.

"They called it a Tootie-Frootie-Pootootie," he answered. "I had to give up man points to order it… and tell them you were my honey-bunny."

Corinthia knew very well that he was trying to make things up to her. They hadn't spoken since they left Torfan, it was her birthday, and, as much as he didn't care what happened on the small moon, he knew that it had upset her deeply.

Angry at him or not, she couldn't suppress a smile. "That's against regulation, Lieutenant."

The Alliance forbade any dating between officer of different ranks. Even if they were of the same rank, they were always assigned to different ships or squads. There were other rules regarding gambling and other things, but they were only really enforced if a problem arose. With romance, though... The Alliance didn't tolerate it, even if the offenders married.

"Fuck regulation," he growled, raising his beer to his lips.

She blinked. "Uh... Did you just..."

"If I wanted to date you, Ci-Ci, I'd ask you out. I was just trying to get you to smile. Can't you take a joke?"

"Well... I'm sorry, John, but I'm still mad at you." She crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat.

"What else was I supposed to do?" he hissed. "I'm not about to make excuses just to make you happy. You know me better than that."

She bit her lip and toyed with the rim of her drink. "Shepard..."

"John."

She blinked. "What?"

"Call me John. About fucking time you did, I say. 'Shepard' is too... It's what everyone else calls me. You're... not that."

She narrowed her eyes. "You're trying to win your way back into my good graces, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," he answered immediately. "Is it working?"

"Three of these and it might," she replied, sipping her drink. "This is good."

He clinked his beer bottle against her glass. "Cheers, Cassie."

She smiled, surprised. "Cassie? You've never called me that."

"Do you prefer Ci-Ci?"

"As long as it isn't Cassiopeia or Iphigenia, I don't really care."

"Ci-Ci it is, then." He sipped his beer. "What's that stand for, again? I can never remember..."

"Cassiopeia Iphigenia Corinthia-Imreas," she answered.

"I thought it was 'Cassandra'. Shows me how much I know."

She gritted her teeth. "You don't even know my name? Geez, Johnny..."

"Do NOT call me that," he growled, fists clenching.

She retreated. "I'm sorry..."

He shook his head. "It's not you, it's..." He took a deep breath. He wanted her to trust him, badly. He wasn't even sure why that desire was really there, but it was. "When I was with the Reds, they called me that."

Shepard could only hope that she'd appreciate how difficult it was for him to even say those two sentences.

"And you don't like to dwell on it, I get it," she murmured, looking at anything but him.

"If you don't want to be here..."

"I do."

"Then what the fuck is up with you?"

She frowned. "What do you think? Do you know what they're calling you?"

He nodded, failing to avoid smirking. "The Butcher of Torfan."

"And you like that?"

"Hell yeah."

He regretted his words as she got to her feet.

"Ooh, you're just... just... Ooh!" She stomped her foot like an angry child.

He caught her wrist. "Wait, Cassie, please... You're mad at me, I get it. I'm not... normal. You know that death doesn't bother me. So I charged in there and didn't think about it. Do I regret it? No, not really, but... It's past. You're alive because I — You're alive. Isn't that enough?"

"No," she muttered mutinously, but she didn't try and break away from him.

"Then what the hell do you want from me?"

"I don't know! To be good? To be human and not... whatever it is you are."

He let her go. "So why'd you let me take you here?"

"Because you're my friend, whether you like it or not. I know you can be better than that. Yes, I'm still confused about what happened on Torfan, too. We killed five hundred men in less than four hours. They took almost a hundred percent casualties, but still... I don't know, John. I just don't know..."

He released her so that she could go back to her seat. Frankly, he didn't have anything to say. All he could feel was relief that she wasn't declaring their relationship over. "I'm not going to apologize."

"I don't expect you to," she replied. "I'm not sure you ever have, really."

He idly thumbed the label on his bottle. "I've never cared what anyone else thought of me. Never really regretted anything."

"I know. You're Emotionless Man."

He winced. "You know, though, it is pretty damn insulting when you call me that."

She shied away. "I'm sorry..."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, so'm I..."

"For what?"

"For... snapping. I don't know. I feel like I fucked it up with you majorly. Don't ask me why, but I do. I don't like it. You're... Fuck, where do I start?"

She smiled and squeezed his hand. "Yeah, I like you, too, John."

His stomach plunged. In all honesty, he had never even considered that he'd been attracted to her in that manner. She was too young — having literally just turned nineteen — too perky, too innocent, too... everything. Too much, even. Deep down, he wanted her, but that tiny kernel was so hidden behind layers of arrogance, emotionlessness, cruelty, and sadism. She was his true opposite, in nearly every way, and he innately felt like he was corrupting her by behind close to her.

He gulped audibly. She cocked her head to one side. "Are you alright, Shepard? What? Did you think I meant it like that?" She laughed nervously, releasing his hand and reaching for her drink. "I mean, you're rugged and all that, but..."

"Yeah," he answered calmly, downing the remainder of his beer a moment later. "Yeah, I agree completely. Platonic."

"Platonic," she repeated.

His eyes scanned the bar, sliding over several women standing at the counter and just waiting to be picked up.

Corinthia crossed her arms. "It's insulting, you know."

"What is?" he replied, not looking at her.

"The way you're looking at them, like they're a gazelle or something."

He turned his attention back to her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She leaned forward. "Hello? Did it ever occur to you that I don't like it when you leave with a woman on your arm? You and I both know you're never going to talk to her again. You're using her and then just tossing her aside."

"She's not like you."

"So? She's still a person. Besides, it makes me feel like you're just going to... to... to toss me aside when you've gotten everything out of me you can."

He wasn't sure how to answer. If he said anything, he was going to start yelling at her for pointing out all his faults. He already knew about them and he'd liked her because she ignored them. Apparently even the blissfully ignorant could only handle so much.

He got to his feet. "I'm getting another beer. Do you want something else?"

"Double Alabama Slammer," she answered.

Shepard strolled to the bar. The women in question smiled alluringly at him. "Hello, soldier. Want to buy me a drink?"

"Could you sound any more like a whore?" he snapped.

The woman blanched, expression somewhere between shock and insult. "Bu — Why you little —"

"Double Alabama Slammer and a triple bourbon on the rocks," Shepard ordered. He turned back to her. "Well, it is a one-night-stand you're looking for, isn't it?"

"I — "

"Would you rather I have pretended to be interested and then leave you alone in bed in the morning?"

She snorted. "Blunt, are we?"

"You have no idea."

"At least you're honest..." She bit her lip and looked him up and down. "Still, not sure I wouldn't say no if you asked."

He glanced back at Corinthia. Her expression was glazed over and she was staring into one of the umbrellas in her now empty glass.

"Worried about your little sister?" the woman cooed. "I'm sure she won't mind."

Shepard shook his head. "She's not my sister."

"Oh, so she's your girlfriend, is she?"

"Something like that..."

"So... Have particular... tastes, do you?"

Shepard picked up his drinks. "Still do, and you look like sloppy seconds to me. You reek of desperation." He shouldered past her, brushing off her screamed insult ("you fucking bastard"), and rejoined Corinthia. "That better?"

"Hm?" she hummed absently. "Oh, I didn't notice... Sorry, my mind's..." She gestured vaguely. "I was just thinking that there was nothing I could've done differently on Torfan..."

"It's your birthday, Ci-Ci. Stop thinking about that. Even I don't want to think about that. I may not regret it, but it doesn't mean I want to dwell on it. Besides, tonight's about you. You're going to be the only girl I take home, alright?"

She blushed and smiled. "So... We're still friends?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. This emotional shit isn't easy for me, but... Listen, Cassie, you aren't disposable to me. Maybe you were at first, but now you aren't. I can't exactly put words to it, either. I didn't have friends, and the ones that did were just using me, too, but you and me's different and you know it." He ran his hand over his head. "You do understand me, don't you? I feel like I'm rambling like some fucking drunk and you're just sitting there with that smile of yours and waiting for me to say something else stupid."

"It's not stupid. Actually, it's kinda... sweet." She grinned. "It's good to know you've got a soft side, even if it's in porcupine terms."

"Uh... what?"

"Well, you're still prickly, but porcupines can be SOOOO cute! AND they've got soft and ticklish tummies."

"Porcupine?" he repeated. "That's what you see me as?"

"Well, no, not really, but, c'mon, you have to like it."

He took a gulp of bourbon. "I am so glad I am not telepathic... Are you going to tell me?"

"What you really are?"

"Yeah."

"Hm... Grizzly Bear. Or maybe a tiger. Lion. Liger. Dragon. No, I'm sticking with bear. Or wolf. Ooh, yeah. Wolf. We're going with that one. You're a wolf."

He smirked. "You hit six animals. Can you get another four?"

"Easily. Hawk, cobra, bat, and echidna."

"Echidna?"

"It's another kind of porcupine. Wait, take that back. Hawk, porcupine, hedgehog, and echidna."

He shook his head. "And now you're twelve again..."

She shrugged and sipped her drink. "So? I've gotta get it out of me now so that I don't mess up another battle for you."

"Actually, you were very well behaved last time."

"I shouldn't have been."

"No, you shouldn't have been." He didn't actually agree with her, but he didn't want to argue again. His mind was still going over their relationship, slowly drifting to the conclusion that he could like her. Now that he was looking for it, she was pretty, and her scars gave her an odd kind of edge that most women avoided. Then again, only being able to see one of her eyes could get annoying at times (since she rarely left the scars uncovered), but part of her fundamental being seemed to be annoying him with her quirks. Honestly, he wasn't minding nearly so much as he used to.

Regardless, no matter what he decided, nothing could or would come of it. Their promotion schedule was such that he would always outrank her, unless by some miracle she ended up a lieutenant commander, which meant that there would always be the fraternization regulations. If he decided that he liked her enough to try something, regs wouldn't even begin to stop him, but it would take something as impossible as him falling in love (which wouldn't happen when Hell froze over and the Devil himself hosted Santa Claus and Jesus for an chaste orgy) for him to even consider the possibility. He didn't want a relationship, not a real one, at least. It meant that someone would hold sway over him, expect him to be considerate and/or responsible to, and, most unrealistically, treat as better than everyone else (though if he could manage to see her as better than himself remained to be seen).

"Liar," she muttered with a smirk, taking a mouthful of her new drink. She grimaced and pushed it towards him. "Why did I order this?"

"Because you were pissed at me and wanted something to get you tipsy," he answered. "And how'd you know I was lying?"

"Because you said something nice."

He put his elbows on the table and pointed a finger at her face. "Hey, I am perfectly capable of being nice."

She snorted. "Prove it."

He sighed, trying to summon a compliment. Her eyes? He could only see one of them, so no point. Scars? Only if he wanted to get slapped. Skin? Creepy. Hair? Well, she had brushed it, for once. Lips? No, no way. Overall, he guessed that she looked alright... Was she wearing make-up?

He took a deep breath. "Fine. You look..." He paused, trying to find a better word than 'alright'. "You look good, I guess."

"Good as in..."

"What the hell do you want from me, Ci-Ci? You look good. Like you tried to look good. I mean, you're — Fuck, please don't make me define it any more."

She raised an eyebrow, not convinced.

"What? You really need more than that? I don't know how to compliment you without making you sound like a whore."

"Try it. C'mon, I wanna hear!" she pressed playfully after his hesitation.

He pressed his lips together for a long moment, as if trying to summon up something else, but finally he shook his head. "I can't do this. You're my friend. I'm not trying to pick you up and anything I'd say would be out of place or just wrong."

"Like I'd mind. Best I get it soldiers asking me if I'll put out for them like I do you or just how good you are. If they're girls, I mean," she added quickly.

"I got the impression that not a lot of people liked me."

"Everyone's scared shitless of you, but they all respect you. I even heard they're going to promote you soon."

He toyed with the rim of his drink. "Yeah, about that..."

She gaped. "Seriously? You're getting another bar after Torfan?"

"Not after; for."

"You're kidding me..."

"Not happy for me?"

"Can't decide. I mean, if the Alliance is going to... Congratulations, Lieutenant... Commander, I mean."

"Commander Shepard..." He smirked. "That's got a nice ring to it."

She thought for a moment. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it? I'll probably never make it that far..."

"Yeah, probably."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

He spread his hands innocently. "What? You and I both know that you aren't commanding officer material."

"Because I giggle and joke around?"

"Pretty much."

She pouted. "So what happened to trying to compliment me?"

He shook his head. "Shit. It's your birthday. I should at least try..."

"It's fine, John. I know you're not... soft. I mean, you can't be with your body. And personality. And everything, really, I guess." She blushed faintly and suppressed a giggle.

He rolled his eyes. "How often are you even aware of what you're saying?"

"Never, really. Ever since I stopped having salarians dissecting my every word, I guess I've started letting it all out of me."

"Still using that as an excuse?"

"Excuse? Is that what you — Oh, I guess I am, aren't I? Sorry." She rubbed her arm uncomfortably.

"Don't look like that," he ordered. "You're too old to pout."

"No one is too old to do that. You pout, too."

"Do not."

"Don't give me that. Whenever you're denied a fight or have to listen to me, your brow furrows in the most adorably confused and annoyed way..."

"Adorable? That isn't a word that's usually associated with me."

"I'd actually venture that I'm the first person to associate with you at all, Shep."

"And you would be the person to do it," he muttered.

"Can we go do something else?"

"Definitely," he answered, getting to his feet. "Maybe something that isn't going to get us at each other's throats."

"Dancing?"

"Can't do it."

"Uh... Karaoke?"

He crossed his arms. "I may be doing my damnedest to be nice to you, but I'm NOT singing."

"Alright, alright. Fine. Nothing that deals with music. I mean, do you even like it?"

"I like it just fine, but only if it's throbbing and there's someone grinding up against me, which I know you aren't going to do."

"You've got that right." Though she liked Shepard plenty, she was just a little too self-conscious for something like that.

They stepped into the open. Norfolk was still a coastal city, not to mention mostly populated by those in the Alliance Military. In comparison to other of the megacities, it was near pristine, at least near the base Corinthia and Shepard were stationed at. That didn't stop the air from smelling like dead fish, cigarette smoke, fuel fumes, and stagnant water. Corinthia waved a hand in front of her nose. "You know, I love Earth and all, but I'd rather breathe the filtered air on the Citadel any day."

Shepard inhaled deeply, feeling himself relax. As much as he tried to dismiss the effect the Reds had on him, being in a big city and the dirty air always calmed him. He felt like he belonged. Though he liked the Alliance well enough, he still felt like an outsider walking amongst them. He was smarter than most of the marines (except Corinthia, but she was her own little sort of insane genius), had no boundaries, and a near limitless potential. Being a biotic helped, certainly, but he didn't feel that those powers were necessary to his success.

Then again, he could very well have been dead if he hadn't... and if it hadn't been for Corinthia. He wasn't ready to admit that he needed her, but he was pretty sure that she was more than useful to have around.

"Smells fine to me," he growled cheerfully, clapping her on the shoulder.

She rubbed her smarting skin. "Oi! That hurt..."

"I didn't hit you that hard, Ci-Ci."

"Doesn't mean it doesn't sting."

He chuckled. "Wimp."

"Hey, who's the one that never notices when there's a bullet heading towards me? I mean, when is the last time that I noticed I was under attack?"

"Just now."

"In a battle, I mean."

"You do notice; you just don't care."

"Point. So... know any good vids?"

"Kinda-sorta. I've got quite the collection..."

"Back at the barracks?"

"Nope. Omni-tool. I can project it anywhere, you know."

He grabbed her arms. "Then we're going to my place. Like hell we're watching something on some back-alley wall. I know what we'll find back there, but you..."

She cocked her head to one side. "What are you talking about?"

"Be glad you're still this innocent. It won't last long." He hesitated before adding, "You can pick a vid."

She grinned. "Seriously?"

He gritted his teeth. "I know I'm going to regret this..."

"That's what she said."