A/N 30 March 2012: Thanks to GoogleFloobs for thetaing!

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

I welcome constructive and/or encouraging reviews/critiques. Please leave feedback!

Thank you for reading. Enjoy!

2 May 2183—Med Bay, SSV Normandy SR-1, the Citadel, Serpent Nebula

Shepard came to in the med bay, his head throbbing and his mind little more than a jumbled panic of thoughts.

Dr. Chakwas came into focus over him. "Glad to see you awake, Commander."

"Where's Ci-Ci?" tumbled out of his mouth before he had control of it.

"She's here. She'll be alright, though I'm not sure she'll be waking any time soon. She suffered quite a bit of head trauma, but right now it's you I'm worried about."

Shepard shook his head, instantly regretting it, and sat up with a groan. "I'm fine, Doc." He glanced around, looking for Corinthia.

She was on the table next to him, head bandaged and IVs sticking into her arms. Her skin was pale and she looked... His heart clenched and he swallowed hard. "She doesn't look good."

"She lost quite a bit of blood, but, like I said, she'll be fine. You can tell her that you saved her life later."

Anderson came in. Shepard rubbed his eyes. "A debriefing already, sir?"

"If you're up for it, Commander."

"I still don't know what the hell happened down there."

"You can start by telling me how Jenkins got killed, why one of my best soldiers was shot in the head and the other knocked unconscious, and why we lost that beacon back there."

Shepard ran his hand over his head. "Jenkins was killed because he ignored the rules of engagement. Corinthia saw Saren murder Nihlus, so Saren shot her. I got too close to the beacon and it turned on. After that... I don't know, but it's one fu — damned nightmare, sir."

"That isn't going to be good enough for the brass, Shepard, and you know it."

"I wasn't finished. I saw something... It made Torfan and Akuze and the Blitz look like child's play. I think..." He shook his head. It sounded so stupid, when he thought about it, but it was the only explanation he could think of. "I think it was about the destruction of the Protheans."

"And what about Saren? He's a Spectre. I wouldn't put it past him to shoot any human in the back, but another turian? It doesn't make any sense."

"Tell me about it," Shepard muttered, slowly getting to his feet. "And that damned beacon did something to my head. I can't close my eyes without seeing that."

"That bad, huh?"

"I've seen some messed up stuff in my life, sir, so if I say it's a nightmare, that's what it is." Shepard clenched his fists. "I was watching genocide. I get all kinds of shit over Torfan, but I've got my limits."

"I believe you, Shepard, but we've got to make the Council agree. This mission was a failure on all fronts and you know it. It wasn't your fault, either; we weren't expecting an army, let alone a rogue Spectre, but we need proof that Saren is to blame."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Shepard muttered. "Can I have a minute?"

"Of course. Take all the time you need, Commander. I want you in top shape for when we get to the Citadel."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "Why would I need to be ready for that?"

"Because you're going to be the one debriefing the Council, along with Alenko, Williams, and Ci-Ci, if she wakes up."

Shepard had been trying not to think about her, but the moment Anderson said something, his eyes locked onto her still body. Anderson's brow furrowed. If he was right in thinking, Shepard actually looked worried about her... or was it something more? The Captain murmured to Dr. Chakwas that they should speak outside.

Shepard touched Corinthia's hand. It was strange, not seeing her react. Her expressions were more than hilarious and one of the reasons he liked her as much as he did. To be able to touch her was... strange. Normally she either cringed or practically leapt into his arms — the latter more often than the former. She cared for him deeply, more than she was capable of voicing, and he knew without a doubt that he felt more for her than he did for any other living creature in the galaxy. Hell, maybe even more than himself. If he'd been there to take that bullet... Not that it would've happened that way. A quick biotic barrier, her sniper rifle, and they would've been fine. She would've been conscious, making some bad joke about what had happened.

But she wasn't alright; she was comatose, pale, and unresponsive. It contradicted everything about her, to the point that Shepard just wanted to grab her shoulders, shake her, and yell at her to wake up.

Everything he'd been repressing since that night at the bar was flooding back — all those emotions he believed himself incapable of feeling. His grip tightened on her hand. If she could just wake up, he'd feel... He didn't know what. He wanted her alive, conscious, and in his arms.

He'd almost lost her. It was a deceptively simple idea, but it was the worst one ever to cross his mind. They were in mortal danger almost every day, but they always came out alive and relatively unscathed. Even Akuze didn't count because they'd come out of it with little more than a few scrapes and burns. Getting shot in the temple wasn't the worse that had happened to her, considering what she'd gotten in the Blitz, but this was the first time that she hadn't staggered off the battlefield on her own.

Something in his stomach kept gnawing away, whispering that it was his fault she was hurt like this. If he'd been faster or stronger, hadn't let her go with Nihlus...

Admittedly, he'd acted out of blind panic on Eden Prime. He hadn't even thought about the consequences for his actions, nor about the remainder of the mission. To him, losing that Prothean beacon wasn't a problem. Besides, it was rattling around in his head like some kind of seed. She'd been right by the artifact... Maybe it had passed on to her as well? Just thinking about that enraged him. She was too innocent to deserve that kind of vision forced upon her. He could only think of Torfan and how angry she had been afterwards. He wanted — no, needed her smiles.

It wasn't my fault. It wasn't hers. It was that bastard Saren's. When I get my hands on him, that turian is going to regret the day he was born.

For the first time, Shepard entertained the idea of being with her. Seeing her almost die had been... He didn't know what it had been. The mere fact that he'd panicked, reacted, and still wished that he'd been there was enough to tell him that he wasn't going to shake his feelings for her anytime soon. Yeah, it'd only been three weeks, but that was the longest he'd ever had a single woman on his mind. Worse, she'd probably been there for longer... much longer. It wasn't like they could just start being together — have her wake up to him kissing her or holding her or something like that. He couldn't do that to her. Hell, he wasn't even sure if she liked him in return. She'd hinted, kissed his cheek, been nearly enraged when he'd hooked up with someone else, but that could easily have meant nothing, since they'd been friends for so long and she hugged everyone.

He brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek, feeling the smooth skin of her scars. Even though he wasn't sure when he'd started thinking that she was pretty, he did now, even with the bruising marring one side of her face and the gauze holding back the blood. His gut plunged when he realized that he wouldn't know how to treat her. He wasn't soft or kind by nature, he took what he wanted, and he would never, ever be able to do something like that to her.

What the fuck am I thinking? She's my best friend...my only friend. She's Ci-Ci, damnit. Fuck, I thought this was behind me.

"What the hell are you doing to me, Cassie?" he breathed, squeezing her hand. Regardless of what he chose to do about his affections (and regs stated that he couldn't do a damn thing), he was going to be there for her. If they were lucky, she wouldn't lapse into PTSD or something worse. If she did... He couldn't think about it. He couldn't leave her, though. She needed him... He needed her. It was a basic enough exchange, but he was finally beginning to understand it.

Although he may not have liked it, he'd never had any illusions about the fact that he cared about her. He just fought down exactly how deep those affections ran and what their true nature was. Then again, he still didn't know if he wanted to do anything about them or not. To have a girlfriend was... unnerving, even more so to have it be her. Part of him felt like he'd ruin her, scar her for life (metaphorically), destroy every shrapnel of innocence she had left. That was one of the things he liked most about her: War had never really touched her, not beyond her scars or her skills on the field. She could still smile as brightly as she had the day they met. If he was lucky, she'd be like that when she finally came back to him — regained consciousness, he meant.

Maybe, just maybe, though... Maybe she'd let him...

Dr. Chakwas came back in. "Alright, Commander, you've bothered her for long enough."

"Any idea when she'll be conscious?"

"I couldn't say. She isn't sedated and she isn't sleeping. Now, if you'll excuse me, Commander, I need to make sure that the bleeding is stopping."

Shepard couldn't argue as he was ushered out of the med bay. Still, though, he didn't know if he was supposed to feel better or worse.

The Crew Deck was just as cold as the upper deck. There as an open mess area, a line of sleeper pods for the crew, and the Captain's cabin. The wall directly next to the med bay had the Officer's lockers, Shepard's included. He went there now, not sure where else to go.

Alenko raised his eyebrows and came over from the other side of the mess. "Commander. How're you doing? It'd have to be something rough to take you out."

"I've been better," Shepard muttered. "What the hell happened down there?"

"Not sure. The beacon lit up, pulled you into the air, and you went all rigid before you just collapsed. Williams took care of Ci-Ci until the Normandy got there. How's she doing, by the way? She looked pretty bad."

"The Doc says she'll be alright," Shepard murmured, leaning against the lockers.

"And you?"

Shepard didn't answer.

Alenko stepped closer and lowered his voice, "You look pretty shaken, Shepard. She'll be alright. She's tougher than she looks. You of all people should know that."

Shepard nodded. "Still doesn't meant I like seeing her like that. Don't tell anyone else I said that."

"Of course not, Commander. But... can I ask you something?"

"You can ask."

"Why haven't you two gotten together?"

"That's out of line, Alenko," Shepard hissed, heart racing.

"Sorry, Commander. It's just that I saw your face when you heard her radio go dead."

Shepard lowered his head, not sure how to answer. He and Kaidan weren't friends. Hell, they'd barely ever spoken, although Ci-Ci seemed to know him well enough. Maybe Shepard could ask Alenko about — As if Shepard would trust anyone other than her with what he was thinking.

"That obvious?" Shepard muttered.

"Just letting you know, Commander. She might appreciate hearing that you were worried from you, not me."

"I'll keep that in mind, Lieutenant. Dismissed."

4 May 2183 — SSV Normandy SR-1, Market Ward Docks, the Citadel, Widow Cluster, Serpent Nebula

Anderson tapped his fingers on the rail of the galaxy map, watching the bridge as Joker flew the Normandy into the Citadel. The nebula was orange and purple, looking more like the clouds of Earth as sunset than space. Ships of all sized maneuvered through the area, most headed in and out of the docks, but some guarding the massive structure.

Shepard stood behind Joker, leaning on the seat. He'd never managed to get to the Citadel before, even though Corinthia kept telling him that she had a place there and there was good bacon, or something like that. Beside him, Williams and Alenko practically pressed their noses against the glass to get a better view.

"Big place," Alenko breathed.

"That your official opinion, sir?" Williams teased.

"Just stating the facts, Chief."

"Yeah, just ignore the guy that's driving," Joker muttered between coordinating with C-Sec for docking instructions.

"Shepard, come meet me in the comm room," Anderson called.

"Aye, aye, sir," Shepard replied.

"Ooh, someone's in trouble," Joker cooed.

"It's gonna be you if you don't avoid that ship."

Joker deftly corrected. "What? Me? Hit something? I don't know what you're talking about."

Anderson stepped into the comm room a moment before Shepard. "Are you ready to debrief the Council, Commander?"

Shepard nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be, sir."

"That's good to hear. Humanity needs this, Shepard."

"I understand, sir."

"So we can count on you?"

"I do my duty, Captain, and you know it. Just give me a chance and I'll get the Council on our side."

"Your word might not be enough."

"It'd damn well better be. Saren shot my friend in the head. Like hell I'm going to let him get away with that, sir," Shepard answered darkly, his anger getting a hold of him.

"Save that thought for the fight, Shepard. We don't want to start a war with the turians. For all we know, that could be what Saren is after."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. He doubted that a little yelling on his part could ignite something like that, but the thought of doing it was... enticing.

"How's Corinthia doing?" Anderson asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Didn't you get that from the Doc?"

"I'm asking you."

Shepard clasped his hands behind his back, snapping back into proper conduct. "She's recovering, sir. Still hasn't woken up, but her wound has been mended and she'll make a full recovery."

Anderson crossed his arms. "You don't believe that, do you?"

"Sir?"

"She may do a very good job of lying to the Brass in reports, but we all know that you're friends. You don't need to worry about me getting you into trouble for any of that, Shepard."

Shepard took a slow breath before carefully answering, "I would rather speak to the Council when she's with me. She was the one Saren attacked. She'll be the proof we need."

"We'll be at the docks in five minutes, Captain," Joker radioed.

"Good. I'm going ashore. Shepard will have the deck until I return with a skeleton crew and the others can go on shore leave."

Shepard saluted. "Sir."

"At ease, Shepard. Just let me know when she comes to," Anderson murmured. "I'll want to talk to her before we get to Ambassador Udina. Dismissed."

Shepard left the comm room and went down to the crew deck. Most everyone was already gearing up to leave the Normandy (not that he blamed them, after walking into a firefight and coming out without a crewmate), so he practically had the level to himself. He stepped towards the med bay door, thought better, and went to his locker. Since he'd been discharged, he hadn't seen her. He'd wanted to, but he hadn't. Dr. Chakwas insisted that she "have space and time to recover", but Shepard wouldn't have been in the way. Not really. It wouldn't have been like he was holding her hand the entire time.

Then again, it was probably better that he just waiting outside. His mind had been less than organized since she'd been shot, to the point that he didn't know if he wanted to comfort her or yell at her for getting hurt at all.

Dr. Chakwas eyed Shepard through the window as he started pacing. "That man really needs to come to terms with his emotions," she murmured. Though she was no psychologist, she knew how soldiers like Shepard worked. Any emotions were repressed and used as fuel in a fight. Attachment wasn't an option when there was so much death around, but every soldier was, ultimately, human. Shepard was considered to be anything but. His cold and calculating nature, not to mention his dossier of missions, made him seem super-human.

To date, the only weakness he'd been found to have was Corinthia, and even then very few people would have been able to tell. Shepard's version of affection was little more than simple tolerance. Corinthia could be quite annoying at times, but rather than snap or yell at her, he either subtly egged her on or got her back on task. Besides, she was his friend, perhaps his only real one. Dr. Chakwas would never mention anything to that effect to the man himself. It wasn't that she was afraid of him (because she wasn't), but rather that she saw no reason to tell him to act otherwise. It wasn't any of her business how he treated Corinthia, so long as it wasn't badly.

Personally, Dr. Chakwas believed that Corinthia deserved better. Shepard was a good soldier, and only sometimes a good officer, but he wasn't a good man. Well, maybe he was, but it was buried so deep that it had never shown in anything other than his relationship with Corinthia — and even then, any goodness in it was on her part. Corinthia was a good kid, with a big heart and little discrimination, and she had this way of getting along with almost everyone. Dr. Chakwas liked her immensely, especially because she seemed to survive whatever happened to her.

Hopefully, she would do the same again.

Several hours passed. Corinthia's monitors showed her consciousness switching from unconsciousness to simply sleeping. Finally, she opened her eyes, snapped them shut, released a slow breath, and groaned. "What the... Frickin' lights..."

"I see you're awake," the doctor replied. "How are you feeling?"

"My temples are about to explode, but I'll live," Corinthia replied painfully, sitting up.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you," Dr. Chakwas scolded.

"Whatever. I need to be on my feet." Corinthia took a deep breath. "Woo, there goes the dizziness... Spinning..."

"Well, you were shot in the head and you did lose a lot of blood."

"Thanks for reminding me. Okay, that's passed." Corinthia straightened a little. "Where is everyone?"

"On shore leave, mostly. A few of us remained behind. The Commander's been pacing outside for the last four hours, not to mention attempting to knock on the door every half hour when he thinks no one's looking. I've never seen him so worked up."

Corinthia closed her eyes. "You mean he was actually worried?"

"That would be putting it mildly."

Corinthia smiled softly. "That's..." She laughed. "Who'd've guessed?"

"Honestly? Most everyone. You're the only one he treats like a human."

Corinthia snorted. "Yeah, right. So... can I go?"

"I think not. You're staying in here until I say you can go."

"Or if Anderson orders me out."

"Unlikely. He doesn't have the ship right now."

"Wait... Shepard's in charge?"

"That is correct."

"No wonder why everyone left..." Corinthia shrugged absently and lay back down. "Alright, run your tests. Whatever. I'll probably want something to take the edge off the headache, though."

"You were shot in the head, Cassiopeia. Of course it's going to hurt." Dr. Chakwas came over. "However, your helmet absorbed the majority of the blow, but there was still damage to the bone. I had to remove quite a bit of shrapnel, but other than the severe concussion, my scans indicated that you'll recover. How is your mental clarity?"

Corinthia raised an eyebrow. "Of all the people you're asking that question to, you pick me? C'mon, Doc, you know that my mind's a war-zone carnival with creepy clowns, lions, performing bears, and some unicorns and rainbows mixed in for good measure. As if it'd be clear at all."

Dr. Chakwas crossed her arms. "Well, how about your physical functions?"

Corinthia wiggled her toes, flexed her fingers, and made various faces at the ceiling. "I think I'm alright. If my smile's lopsided, just let me know."

"It's not."

Outside, Shepard was so focused on the narrow line he'd been pacing that he hadn't even noticed that Corinthia was moving. His thoughts were mostly concentrated on how he'd rip Saren apart limb from limb using increasingly violent methods. The Commander wasn't even making any excuses about his reasoning: Saren had tried to kill his friend. Therefore, the turian deserved to die as slowly and painfully as possible. Besides, thinking about torture stopped Shepard from thinking about how he was supposed to react when Corinthia did wake.

Then he heard her laugh. It was weak, but it was still her. Before he really thought about it, he was heading to the med bay door.

"...look alright to me," Dr. Chakwas finished, setting down her instruments. "Just get some rest and don't get into a fight for at least a week."

"You know I can't promise either of those things," Corinthia replied.

"Only because you follow him around like a puppy. You know perfectly well what sorts of trouble follow him."

"That I do, although it usually tends to be me."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Cassiopeia. It's not your fault that you've ended up in as many tough situations as you have."

Corinthia didn't answer immediately. With the exception of the Skyllian Blitz, she had either requested or altered her assignment to be in said "tough situation." Until Akuze, it had been volunteering for particular assignments, but afterwards it had been to be near Shepard. He had never realized just how deeply the event had shaken her or how much it had meant for him to have tried to comfort her. Frankly, she wasn't even sure how much their friendship meant to him at all. She had other friends, sure, but it wasn't the same. She could tell him anything (except that she liked him, but only out of sheer mortified embarrassment) and he seemed to accept her just as she was. Coming from him, it was more than a miracle that he could stomach her, but somehow it worked.

"I'm just lucky like that," Corinthia casually replied, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "I must have some subliminal penchant for a challenge and almost getting myself killed."

"I think it's rather more that you like him."

"He's my friend. Of course I like him."

"That isn't what I meant."

"For once, I know what you're talking about but I'm going to elect to remain ambiguous in this case."

Dr. Chakwas raised her eyebrows. "Apparently that blow to the head did you more good than harm."

"I can't be oblivious all the time, but there are occasions when it's better to be that way. Besides, there are regs to keep in mind... Not that I particularly care, but I think I'm on duty right now..." She scratched her head, wincing as her fingers drifted too close to the bandaging. "How long before this stuff comes off?"

"Whenever I decide to discharge you."

"Better make that soon, Doc," Shepard interrupted, the med bay doors hissing shut behind him. "Anderson told me to report in once she was awake."

"Shall I do that for you, Commander?" Dr. Chakwas offered.

Shepard nodded.

"Very well. Please don't harass my patient, Commander." She gave Shepard a kind smile and left.

Corinthia ran her fingers through her hair, smiling sheepishly. "Hey..."

Before Shepard knew what he was doing, he had crossed the distance between them and was embracing her as tightly as he could. Corinthia might have made some kind of muffled protest, but it wasn't long before her arms encircled his waist and held onto him just as dearly. Now that he was there, she realized just what a dire situation she had been in. If it had been enough to bother him so much that he would actually hug her first (she wasn't even sure that had ever happened), then it had to have been serious. Or he was still trying to make things up to her, as he often tended to do whenever he knew he'd hurt her somehow.

After a long moment, he loosed his grip on her a little as he stepped back to look at the wound. "Shit, Cassie, you look terrible."

"Speak for yourself," she answered. "Are you alright?"

"Am I alright? You're the one that got shot!"

"Yeah, but you're doing... this."

"What?"

"Hugging me."

Shepard shook his head. "You're my friend. You're... important." He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "I know that I really fucked up back on Earth, but it was..."

Cassie smiled softly and poked his arm. "Don't bother, Shep. I get it: You didn't want to lose your friend."

"That's one way to say it," he muttered, not sure if he wanted to tell her was actually going through is mind or if he was going to be content to just have her back in general.

She cocked her head to one side. "So what were you thinking?"

He moved his hands to her waist. "I... Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"

"What? Getting cornered by psychotic turians and synthetic AIs?"

He brushed her bangs away from her eyes so that he could touch her scars. It was probably more affectionate of a gesture than he'd meant, but he wasn't particularly sure that he cared anymore. "Getting hurt like this."

She blushed faintly. "You think I like this?" she whispered. "That I like being cornered or getting beat up? To have to wait for you to show up and save my sorry ass? Of course I don't! I hate these." She gestured to the marks on her face and the various ones on her arms and body. "I'm nowhere near normal as it is, but these just make me... a freak or something, I don't know."

"You're not anything like that."

"You're just saying that..."

"You should know me well enough by now to know that I don't say something unless I mean it. You're amazing. You're... Damn it, don't you know that the scars are a good thing?" Shepard liked her scars. He didn't like that she had them, but he couldn't imagine her without them.

She raised an eyebrow (her right, which wouldn't interfere with her open wound). "Are you going to explain? Or is this you trying to compliment me again?"

He put his hand over her mouth. "Let me finish. You're a good soldier, even if you don't look like it. We've been through some of the worse situations the Alliance has experienced in the last ten years. You're a lieutenant commander. What else do you want me to tell you? That you're funny? Smart? Creative? Beautiful?"

Her eyes widened a little at the last one, but she didn't say anything. He hadn't meant to let it slip, either, but it was too late for him to take it back. His only option was to finish as if it hadn't meant anything.

"I just don't like seeing you get hurt, and it happens a lot," Shepard finished weakly, dropping his hand from her mouth. "You're better than that and you know it."

"I was cornered," she replied defensively.

"Bull shit."

"Not true — Well, okay, I guess you're right. I could've saved my shields instead of that stupid beacon..."

Shepard narrowed his eyes. "What did you say?"

"I downloaded the beacon. Took all the power out of my hardsuit and sapped my shields. I couldn't even hack the geth."

"Did it work?" he asked, almost desperately.

"Did what work?"

"The download. Did it work?"

"I don't know. I haven't been conscious for very long." She extracted herself from his grasp and opened her omni-tool. "It looks like I got about eighty-percent of the data there, but reading it's going to be close to impossible without a Prothean language program. Maybe the asari might have one, if I can get into Thessia's — "

Shepard caught her free hand before she could do anything. "Don't. We're going to need it intact."

"Huh? Why?"

He ran a hand over his head. "We didn't exactly get the beacon."

"Oh... And what about Saren? Did you get him?"

"No."

She opened her mouth to congratulate him, but then processed what he had actually said. "That's — Wait, what? You didn't get him? What happened? I mean, you've never — "

Shepard sat next to her, his shoulder touching hers. "I know."

"Bad timing, huh?"

"Seriously."

Corinthia patted his arm. "I'm sorry, Shep. That's awful."

"It couldn't be much worse, either. Anderson's pretty sure the Council isn't going to believe us."

"He's right about that."

"That's why he wants to talk to you."

"I haven't got anything to say. I wasn't exactly conscious for most of it..."

"Damn it."

"What happened down there? I mean, other than Saren losing it and using the geth to invade one of our colonies."

"He shot you and left on that goddamn ship of his. When I finally got to you, you were bleeding out by the beacon. It... turned on. Showed me things..." Shepard rubbed his temples wearily. "Did you..."

"Yeah, for a second, when I touched it to start the download." She reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers. "I don't remember anything but what it made me feel." She shivered. "It was like..."

"Watching genocide."

"Yeah, I guess... I just thought it was freaky and disturbing." She put her head on his shoulder. "You'll be alright. You always are."

"Yeah..." He coughed, extracted himself from her grasp, and got to his feet. "You should get into uniform. We're going to speak to the Council."

"Not just Anderson?"

"Not just Anderson."

"Did you make the Spectres?" she asked eagerly. "Or is this about Eden Prime?"

"I don't know. We're going to see them as soon as you can move."

She snorted. "I've been moving."

"Walk, I mean." Shepard went to the door of the med-bay. Dr. Chakwas came in as soon as it opened, though it was hard to tell if she'd heard or was just looking slightly smug in general. "So, Doc, can she leave?"

"Well, I doubt that I could stop her if she really wanted to, so yes, she can," Dr. Chakwas answered. "Keep her out of trouble, will you, Commander?"

"I'll do my best, but I can't promise anything." Shepard caught Corinthia as she staggered into him. She giggled and grinned at him. He groaned. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…"

She righted herself quickly and winked. "Just testing. I am not seeing sideways and I am not actually dizzy. Right, where's my armor? Or are we supposed to be in dress blues?"

Shepard rolled his eyes. "Just get suited up, Ci-Ci, before I cause you real brain damage."

"You do realize that would fix me, right?"

"Hurry up."

"That's what she said."