A/N 4/24/2012: Thanks, as per usual, to GoogleFloobs for the theta! Check out his story!

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6 May 2183—Human Embassy, the Presidium, the Citadel, Serpent Nebula

Udina turned off the recording of Saren and looked between Corinthia and Shepard.

"Well, it seems that you both have come through," he muttered, glaring in particular at Corinthia.

In an almost unprecedented act of self-control in regards to Udina, Corinthia didn't retort snippily. Instead, she nodded soberly. "You were just doing your job, defending us to the Council and all that. The least we can do is come through, right? You put our names in for Spectres, too, so it's only fair that we live up to it."

Udina understood a politician's apology when he heard one, though he'd expected Corinthia to just come out and say 'sorry' like a normal person — well, as normal as Corinthia was capable of being.

"I wasn't finished," Udina continued. "Do you think it will be enough?" He looked pointed at Shepard.

"If it isn't, there isn't much anyone can do to stop me from hunting that bastard down," Shepard growled. His eyes flicked to Corinthia. In all honesty, Shepard wanted revenge. Saren had tried to take something away from Shepard, and the Commander didn't tolerate people insulting that which was precious to him. Unsure of his feelings for her or not, Shepard valued her friendship more than anything else in the galaxy, and he was not going to lose that because some turian thought he could play God and get away with it. Eden Prime being attacked had next to nothing to do with Shepard's inner fire — colonies had been attacked before and they would be again — but there was only one Corinthia in the galaxy and he wasn't going to lose her.

"Don't do anything rash, Commander," Udina warned. "Right now, you are the face of all humanity."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The Council isn't going to make you both Spectres," Udina continued, giving Corinthia another pointed look. "You and I both know that Corinthia isn't up to the task."

Shepard caught her arm before she could surge forward and protest. "She is capable, but she's not what the Council's looking for," Shepard answered, not looking at her. He knew he'd get screamed at later for saying it, but she'd also hug him and forgive him within two minutes.

"If you say so. The fact is that humanity needs someone like you, Commander. This recording of Saren is proof, and I'll be damned if it isn't enough. I have enough to worry about without dealing with your squabbles with turians. I've already put my neck out for you."

"You think I don't know that?" Shepard retorted. "Why the hell do you think we spent the last forty-eight hours hunting this shitty recording down? I'm not letting that bastard get away with this. Humans are dead, the geth are loose, and who knows what the f — hell will happen next. Humanity's being threatened, and I don't take that lightly."

Corinthia blinked. Part of her had always intuitively known that Shepard could be charismatic when he wanted to be, but to give a speech like that to a politician? It didn't seem like him, but it sounded like he actually meant it, even about humanity. Despite all of his shortcomings, one thing that he had never been was xenophobic, at least that Corinthia had seen, but he'd never been particularly pro-humanity either. She knew that he envied the asari's biotic abilities and the turian's military, but to hear him defend humanity like they were truly the pinnacle of civilization was strange to her ears. She didn't mind, although she didn't agree, but if Shepard could get on Udina's good side, more power to him.

Of course, she was wrong. Shepard was lying through his teeth. The deaths on Eden Prime hadn't bothered him, nor had he done anything to hunt down that recording than show up when Corinthia had called him. Humanity mattered to him, in the sense that they were his species and were capable of handling a higher stake in the galaxy, but he'd never felt like he'd had to go defend them. He'd joined the Alliance to escape the Reds, stayed because killing was the only thing he was good at, and now he remained because he didn't see any other options for him. The chance to become a Spectre was his first opportunity to have a different life. He didn't mind going from battle to battle, although there was a small part of him that relished just taking a moment to go out and relax, especially with Corinthia — although the latter was a given, considering that she was really his closest and only friend. If getting Saren meant that he could have more freedom, Shepard would say whatever it took.

"Look, Saren's a menace," Shepard continued. "Right now, it's to humanity, so that means that the Alliance is going to have to do something about it and it'll be easier if I'm a Spectre. You know my record. I get rid of menaces."

"Why do you think we chose you?" Udina replied, smirking.

"Can I ask why you chose me, then?" Corinthia asked. She clamped her lips shut the second the words escaped her mouth.

"Because you seemed to be less of a loose cannon," Udina sneered, "but it seems that we need one of those right now."

"Oh." Corinthia tried not to look downcast, but she had already suspected that she wasn't going to make the cut. She wasn't Shepard, after all.

Anderson came in. "Sorry I'm late. Admiral Hackett wanted an update."

Udina got to his feet. "So long as we aren't late to meet with the Council, I don't care. Let's go." He walked out the door.

Anderson looked at Shepard and Corinthia. "Did you get what you needed?"

"Obviously, sir," Shepard growled.

"That's good to hear." Anderson gestured that they should walk with him. "Are you ready for this?"

Shepard nodded. "If you mean to be a Spectre, then yes."

Corinthia shrugged. "How different will it be?"

"All of humanity is looking to you both right now," Anderson continued. "Admiral Hackett has high expectations."

Corinthia rubbed her arm uncomfortably. She's never liked being in the spotlight, but now it seemed that she couldn't avoid it.

"Udina said as much, sir," Shepard answered. "Let's just get this over with. We can figure out how we'll hunt down Saren after."

The Council Chambers

Shepard hated speeches, especially when they were pretentious. Sure, the Council had good reason to be telling him the importance of a Spectre's duties and all that, but Shepard could only think of how he was going to use his new-found power to get back at Saren.

Next to him, he could practically feel Corinthia's heart sink. Shepard was the one getting the Spectre speech. If they'd wanted her, they would've waited and given it to them both. If they weren't standing in front of the Council, Shepard would've touched her arm or hand to let her know that things were going to be better this way.

Spectre. It felt good to have the word attached to him. He was a Spectre. He could do whatever the hell he wanted and no one would be able to stop him, not even the Council. Admittedly, pissing off the Council wasn't the best idea, but it was fun and he was pretty damn sure they deserved it.

Still, something wasn't right. Becoming a Spectre had been too easy. The Council had barely heard the recording before they declared Saren a traitor, identified the woman's voice as some asari named Benezia, and made Shepard a Spectre. They hadn't even looked at Corinthia or acknowledged her presence, even though she'd been the one to do almost all the work to get the recording in the first place. With that said, Shepard was positive that there was more to what was going on that he knew. The way Benezia had said the word "Reapers" had sent chills up his spine. Whatever a Reaper was, it wasn't good and it was something that needed to be destroyed. Shepard was good at that kind of thing.

"Commander Shepard, you have your mission," the asari Councilor finished. "I suggest you go about it."

Shepard nodded. "I'm sure as hell not going to stay here and wait for you to change your minds."

"We'll have to arrange a ship and crew for the Commander," Udina said. "Anderson, you come with me."

Anderson nodded and saluted Shepard. "Congratulations, Commander."

Shepard saluted back. "Thank you, sir."

"Corinthia," Anderson added, leaving with Udina.

Corinthia took a deep breath. "Well... Good job, Shep," she murmured, trying not to sound like she was pouting. "Looks like we won, right?"

Shepard had started out with the assumption that she wouldn't make the Spectres, but to hear her actually react to it made him realize that he probably should've at least given her a bigger vote of confidence in front of Udina. She was good, but good enough to be a Spectre? His eyes traced over her scars and to her omni-tool arm. She's survived everything that he had, coming out even more battered than he had. She'd hacked into Prothean technology and recovered the beacon's data, even if it was indecipherable. She could get into and out of any computer system and no one would ever know. She'd served with the STG. And Shepard? He was just good at killing things.

Again, he'd fucked up. Badly. The Council was already gone and it was just him and Corinthia, not to mention the gawking politicians staring at the first human Spectre.

"We'll have to get Saren first," Shepard answered lowly. "Then you can do all the victory dances you want."

"And I was about to start one up for you..." She shrugged. "So, what now?"

He thought for a moment. He wanted to celebrate, certainly, since he'd just had a dream come true, but also to do something nice for Corinthia. Granted, that usually involved buying her drinks that she never touched, but he'd think of something. A new omni-tool upgrade or sniper sight. Not only that, but something didn't feel right. He couldn't place it, but he needed to talk to her where they couldn't be overheard by the Alliance or Council.

Shepard grabbed Corinthia's arm. "Come on, Ci-Ci. Let's go."

"Where are we going?" she asked as he practically dragged her away.

"To get a drink," Shepard growled. He wanted one and she needed one.

She pointed towards the Council. "But… we should be going after Saren, right?"

"Just shut up and come with me, okay?"

"That's what she said…?" she asked, not sure it was an appropriate moment for the phrase.

"Not now."

In almost any other situation, Corinthia would have continued, but she stopped. "Okay. Sorry."

He didn't look at all happy about being a Spectre, although he never really did look happy, except for a couple times when he'd been falling-down drunk. She could only assume that they were going to celebrate that he was now a Spectre. Her stomach sank a little as she wondered if Shepard would keep his promise and stay away from the women that would most certainly be wherever they were going. Corinthia didn't know if she could deal with him doing that again.

They continued in silence, Shepard only loosing his grip on her arm when he realized that two people in Alliance dress uniform — not to mention different ranks marked on their shoulders — probably shouldn't have been holding hands. Corinthia only said something to inform him that they may want to go out in their casual blues or civies, which he silently agreed to.

When the boarded the Normandy, Alenko and Joker were waiting for them.

Alenko saluted. "Congratulations, sir."

"At ease, Alenko. You heard already?" Shepard asked.

"Anderson radioed it in. It's already all over the news. It's a big deal to be a Spectre, sir."

Shepard rubbed his eyes. "Great. Now I'm going to start getting fan mail."

"And that's going to be a bad thing, sir?"

Shepard's eyes flicked to Corinthia.

Alenko nodded. "Oh, I see. Well, Ci-Ci can put up any kind of filter you want, you know." Alenko had suspected for a while that Shepard liked Corinthia, but the trick would be getting the Commander to say anything about it. Corinthia had as much as admitted to liking Shepard during his birthday party, but Alenko wasn't going to go behind a friend's back to ease a bit of romantic tension, especially when it was someone like Shepard that was involved.

"Yeah, I know," Shepard answered.

"So, can we go kick Saren's ass now, Commander?" Joker asked.

"As soon as I find out what ship I'm getting," Shepard replied.

"Aw, c'mon. We all know that you're going to get the Normandy." Joker gave Corinthia a pointed look. "Right, Ci-Ci?"

"Hey, don't look at me," she answered, stepping towards the crew quarters. "It's not like I'm capable of hacking into Alliance Command and altering orders and assignments on a regular basis to make sure that we'll have the best of the best around."

"Uh huh. We all know you've done it."

"No one's been able to prove anything, either, Flight Lieutenant, so I'd keep your mouth shut or else I'll replace you with the second best pilot in the Navy."

Alenko laughed, although Joker grumbled, "Like hell you'd do that. You need me here. No one else can fly my baby."

Corinthia didn't hear, as she was already past the Galaxy Map.

"I'll let her know, Joker," Shepard finished, following Corinthia. The Normandy wasn't his, but he wanted her. Navy or not, Shepard wasn't a big fan of cruisers or big ships, but the Normandy was perfect for him: unique, fast, quiet, and the best the fleet had to offer.

A few minutes later, Shepard and Corinthia were in more relaxed clothing and heading to the nearest bar, Flux. Corinthia still looked downcast, although Shepard suspected that it was partially because she didn't really want to go drinking. On a whim, she'd invited Alenko and Williams to join them, but they'd both declined — Alenko out of respect and Williams out of annoyance.

Flux was throbbing with life. Shepard could feel the music echoing in his chest like a second heartbeat. The bartender, a human woman in her mid-twenties, waved enthusiastically at Corinthia.

"Thank you so much for getting Jenna out, Lieutenant Commander!" she blurted. "Jenna's upstairs right now, but it's already so much better. Drinks are on the house for you and your date tonight."

Corinthia laughed. "This isn't my date. He's just my friend. Shepard, this is Rita. Garrus and I got her sister out of a jam earlier."

Shepard nodded. "Bourbon on the rocks. No water and a tall glass."

Rita smiled and looked expectantly at Corinthia.

"Uh... Surprise me, but no tequila," Corinthia ordered.

"So what, exactly, did you do while I was sleeping?" Shepard demanded as soon as Rita was working on their drinks.

"Helped out a few people, talked to a Shadow Broker agent, met the Consort, saved a doctor from an attack, talked to a hanar about the Enkindlers, scanned a lot of Keepers —"

"I get it," Shepard muttered. "A lot of useless bullshit."

Corinthia shook her head. "No, not useless. Allies are always nice to have, aren't they?"

"Whatever." He accepted his drink from Rita and took a large gulp.

"What's wrong?" Corinthia asked, debating touching his hand. She decided not to and just waited for him to answer, if he answered at all.

"This was all too easy," Shepard began. "At first the Council wouldn't believe us, and now they readily accept our story. I don't like it."

"At least you got what you wanted," she muttered darkly.

He rubbed his eyes wearily. He had wanted to be a Spectre, but after the initial rush, it wasn't as liberating as he had hoped. As a matter of fact, he felt a great weight added to his shoulders. Before, he'd been able to pass blame along the chain of command, but now everything would be on him. In a sense, he'd always been independent and ignored orders, but he'd always been right about doing it. Still, though, now there weren't going to be any checks on his actions.

That meant that he needed Corinthia. Ever since Torfan, she had become his conscience. She made sure that he knew when he was going too far and pointed out the line when he didn't see it. He'd gotten better, lately, but his first reaction to most situations, although right in his mind, wasn't, exactly, the "good" one in the eyes of galactic society.

The Alliance had tried to train him to be the perfect soldier — and there was no denying that he was — when he'd been in N7, but they hadn't prepared him for dealing with any kind of stigma for his actions. Or, really, for having someone he cared about get pissed at him for doing his job. For having Corinthia get pissed at him, even though collateral was something that they'd both come to accept, even if it was frowned upon. There was little counter for his ruthlessness, especially when it came to casualties. He didn't think that all lives had value, and he quickly judged which ones did and didn't. He was the man that was capable of making the hard decisions, regardless of the stakes. That was why he'd been made a Spectre and Corinthia hadn't. He was capable of sacrificing for the sake of a mission, whereas she wasn't. She hadn't even let him kill the scum that was Fist.

But the fact was that he'd listened to her. She was the goddamn voice in his head and it was driving him crazy because hers was the only voice he couldn't ignored. Sometimes he regretted ever talking to her, but he'd gotten to the point that he couldn't imagine life without her.

"I thought you didn't want the job," he observed.

"I just said that I thought you were better, not that I didn't want it." She shrugged. "Still, congrats. You've just upgraded from awesome to epic."

He smirked and nudged her playfully. "No plans to hack the system and change the outcome?"

"I like to earn what I get, thanks, though I could rig the lottery if I wanted to." Her eyes unfocused as she went into Dreamland. "Ooh, it would be so simple… All I'd have to do is—"

"Focus, Ci-Ci."

"Sorry, Shep."

Shepard took another long drink. "You heard Udina, didn't you? They're giving me a ship and a crew."

Corinthia nodded. "Yeah." She touched his arm. "Are you alright? You look… disturbed."

He stared at his half-empty glass. "They may not have us on the same crew."

She laughed. "Are you kidding me? If Anderson's got anything to say, we're going to be together and you know it. They know I can't function on my own. Cheers." She picked up her glass, toasted Shepard, drank half of the drink, and gagged comically. "Oh, that was a bad idea. I don't even know what that was and now my head's spinning…"

Shepard put his hand over hers. "I can't do this without you."

She grinned and winked. "The Alliance knows that, Shep. I keep putting into your reports, you know."

Shepard's expression didn't falter and he didn't remove his hand.

Her smile faded. "You're really worried, aren't you? No wonder why you wanted a drink…"

He locked eyes with hers, making her gulp. She didn't like it whenever he looked at her like that. It seemed like unadulterated hatred, but Corinthia knew him well enough to know that it was just his emotions and passions as he tried to hold them back. Even knowing what it was, it scared her more than anything else in the universe. Worse, she desperately wanted to know exactly what he was thinking and be there when it surfaced.

"John?" she asked softly, trying not to sound as frightened of him as she felt. If he said something, the spell would be broken and she could breathe again.

"Would you disobey orders and come with me?" he asked slowly.

She paled and pulled away from him. "That's… desertion!"

Shepard leaned in, grabbing her hand again and dragging it almost against his chest. His expression changed to something near desperation—or, as close as you got with a hardened man like Shepard. Corinthia reconsidered: It wasn't desperation; it was humanity. It was the moment she'd been waiting to see. Her heart raced. For the first time in years, she knew that she still liked him. Cared about him. Loved him. Whatever. That she wouldn't ever really get over him and that, maybe, he might let her in.

"Would you?" he pressed, surprisingly gentle in comparison to his usual gruff tone. His entire look softened, making him look just like any other guy, not the strong man she was used to seeing. He was showing her a part of him that he kept hidden, admitting to the fact that he was capable of being gentle, kind, and everything she'd wished he could be.

She took a slow breath to try and calm herself, wanting to look away, but unable to. "I'm not going to have to."

"I want to know," he pressed, leaning in closer to her.

They were only this close when they hugged, and even then they kept it brief, but she could feel the warmth radiating off of his skin, see the bright lights of Flux reflect in his blue eyes. He'd always looked older than he was, but now he looked his age, less weathered and beaten by time and experience, although certainly not innocent.

She bit her lip. He'd never asked her anything like this before. He'd always assumed that she'd follow his orders, never wondered if she did it because she either had to or wanted to. In fact, he was the only reason she was still with the Alliance. She knew that she was his only friend, but he didn't know that he was hers, too. Sure, she knew other people, but it wasn't the same. They hadn't been in the Blitz, survived Akuze, or seen Torfan. They didn't understand how she felt about Cerberus or why Shepard held vendettas against any kind of organized mercenary group. They couldn't meet her eyes and know exactly what she meant without her saying a word. Shepard could. He could do all of that and more. Maybe he didn't want to, but he could.

That was why she wanted to follow him — because he understood her, even if it was against his will. She felt safe when he was around, despite the fact that their lives were constantly in danger (as their scars attested). She loved him, although how exactly was muddled in her mind. All she knew was that she couldn't leave him, not willingly, and she'd risk getting kicked out of the Alliance again and again if it meant that they could serve together.

Hesitantly, she touched his cheek. "John, you're my best friend. You shouldn't have to ask me this. You know that I'd follow you into Hell in a heartbeat. I've done it before and I would do it again and again, even if you didn't ask, even if you begged me not to, or if I knew I wouldn't come out of it. It sounds stupid, but I need you. I feel like I can do anything with you. Like hell I'll leave you alone in this mission, or any of them."

Shepard's heart almost stopped beating. He'd hoped that she'd give that answer — actually, he'd been almost positive that she would — but to actually hear her say it was something else entirely, like an affirmation that she was just too... too... He didn't know what. "Wonderful" seemed like a stupid and cliché word, especially for him to say. And the way she was looking at him, that her fingers were tracing along his stubble, assured him that she'd long stopped seeing him as just a friend. He'd been too blind to see it and she'd been too shy to admit it. But right now her guard was down and she was showing him her heart, which she kept as guarded as he kept his.

He couldn't take it anymore. There was no denying that he wanted her, desperately, and swallowing his feelings again was going to be impossible; they were too strong for him to fight. Even the threat of court martial for fraternization wasn't enough (nor had it ever been). He didn't know what, exactly, they were, but they sure as hell weren't friendship with the images running through his head.

He raised his free hand to her fingers and caught them. She had to care about him, even if she wasn't ready to admit it. He wanted to kiss her, to hold her against him and let her know just how grateful he was that she was still beside him, despite what he'd done to her in the past.

She blushed deeply and drew her fingers out of his grasp, as if he'd touched her hand to remove her touch instead of hold it against his cheek.

"Cassie," he murmured, swallowing his nerves. He had to know what it was like to feel her lips against his, to know for sure if what he was feeling was real or just some cruel trick of the mind.

She took a deep breath. "John?" she asked, her voice uncertain.

He could feel her blushing, but she wasn't withdrawing, nor was she moving closer to him. This was his chance. He reached out and touched her neck, thinking that he was going to pull her in and kiss her. It was damned impulsive of him, but he wasn't sure he had enough self-control to fight it.

She stiffened at his touch, more out of shock than anything else, and her eyes widened a little. He couldn't tell if it was out of fear or not, but it was enough to shock him back into reality. He pulled away, releasing her hand (which he'd been gripping the entire time) and taking a quick drink. She had no idea. She wasn't ready for it, for him, for anything that he wanted. As creative as she was, it was like she couldn't even imagine them ever being more than friends, ever interacting differently.

His heart sank as he realized how stupid he'd been. She'd never had a boyfriend, realized when someone was hitting on her, or been kissed. Her eyes screamed the confused innocence of a child, albeit with the curiosity of a much older woman. If she was confused, she'd only think herself into a frenzy and eventually break down crying. As much as he wanted her, Shepard couldn't do that to her. He couldn't damn their friendship simply because he wanted more without regard to her feelings, because he did care what she thought, more than he was probably ready to admit.

The only question was if he'd ever get a chance with her at all, or if she'd remain the perpetual innocent and naive virgin he'd befriended all those years ago.

"Thank you," he hoarsely breathed after a long moment. "I'm glad I didn't scare you off."

She laughed, sounding much more like her usual self than she had just a moment before. With that laugh, whatever chances he'd had at showing her how he felt (because telling her was out of the question) were gone. If she'd even realized that he'd tried to kiss her, she was doing a damn good job of not showing it.

"You've been trying to scare me off for ages, Shep. Hasn't worked yet. Besides, at this point, we're kinda stuck together, you know? Like a wishbone."

"Wishbone?" he repeated, forcing himself to forget what he'd just tried to do.

"Yeah. Joined at the... Uh, wait, that doesn't work, does it?"

Shepard chuckled and shook his head. As disappointed at himself as he was that he'd been too scared to kiss her (yes, scared, and he was going to be pissed about it for a long time), he could already feel himself relaxing as she made a fool of herself.

"No, it doesn't. Try again."

"Alright." She comically screwed up her face in thought. "Ooh, this is a tough one, because we aren't joined at the hip. I mean, I could mess with our armor enough to make it work, but that'd just be awkward."

"And inconvenient. You can run faster than I can."

"Meh, not when you do that biotic charge thingy."

"Whatever. Keep thinking."

"Aha! Wait, no, I can't say it..." She blushed furiously and took a sip of her drink.

"Tell me," he urged.

"Two parts of a whole," she muttered bashfully. "That's the best phrase that comes to mind. Stupid, huh? And with all the wrong connotations."

"Wrong?" Shepard repeated, everything that he was trying to hold back resurfacing with high hopes. "What makes you say that?"

"John, we've been friends for ages, but you're not into me like that, and that's what married people call themselves," Corinthia said as if it were simply fact.

Shepard finished the rest of his drink and signaled Rita for another. "You think I don't like you?" he asked lowly, trying to give her some kind of hint. It wasn't easy, especially because he was becoming more and more certain that he was going to have to do something to her before she actually understood what he wanted.

"Not like that, no," she answered immediately, answering for him as if she knew exactly what she was thinking. "If you did, you would've done something about it. It's not like you sit around and talk about your feelings."

"So what the hell do you think I was trying to do before?" Shepard found himself hissing before he could stop himself. He glared at her. "That you just had something stuck on your neck?"

Corinthia reddened. She hadn't wanted to hope, but she was still annoyed at him for being with that harlot back on Earth, for every woman he'd had before. Shepard wasn't hers and probably never would be, so she had no right to be angry, but she was.

"I don't know," she answered quietly, looking away. "But it doesn't matter. You outrank me. We're not even supposed to be getting drinks like this."

"Since when have you cared?" he demanded.

"What do you want me to say? That I like you?" she answered hotly, rounding on him. "I used to, a lot. I thought I was in love with you once, but then I saw how you treat other women and it just makes me angry. And it isn't just the women you sleep with, but also the soldiers, like Ash. She's been fuming this entire time and I don't know if it's because she doesn't like me or if it's because you're treating her like shit."

"Shut up, right now," Shepard warned. "You don't want to get into this argument."

"What are you going to do? Pull your Spectre status on me?"

Shepard calmed himself enough before they started yelling at each other in public. He took a deep breath and calmly answered, "I don't trust people like you do, Cassie. I don't start thinking that they're capable. They have to prove themselves. Williams is doing it. Alenko has. And all those 'other women' you're talking about? I hate them. Every last one of them. I wish they didn't exist and that I never did any of that shit with them." He gazed into his glass. "Hell, sometimes I wish I was as innocent and naive as you are. I know I couldn't do my job, but it'd be nice not to go around expecting the worst from everyone. You can just grin at anything, during anything, and your smile's the most beautiful I've ever seen."

She flushed and tucked her bangs behind her ears, letting him see her scars. Her attempts not to smile with pleasure failed. Shepard forced down another urge to kiss her, but he'd already decided not to do that to her. Touch, though, was a different thing entirely.

He covered her hand with his. "I don't get how you can be how you are, but don't change. The galaxy needs more people like you."

She giggled. "Immature and naive and innocent?"

"I was going to say 'upbeat'."

"Hah! I'd hoped you say 'perky'."

"That isn't in my vocabulary."

She lightly punched his arm. "Sure it is. Just say it."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Aw..." She gave him a big smile. "You said it's beautiful, right? Does it work to melt your heart?"

"More than you realize," he muttered.

"Huh?"

"Nothing, but you're going to have to do better than that." He moved his chair closer to hers, trying to get close to her without actually touching her. Maybe she'd pick up the physical hints. Then again, Shepard had never really had to give them out before, so he could only hope that he was doing it right, whatever that meant.

Thankfully, she didn't move away, although Shepard was now almost positive that her cheeks were going to be flushed for the rest of the evening.

"What stakes are we talking? Usually the puppy-eyes works or me scolding you, but this isn't exactly a scolding situation and I can't do the eye thing with all the lights in here."

Shepard almost asked her to kiss him, but he resisted. "You'll have to think of something, then."

"More drinks?"

"That'll work."

"Rita! More of the stuff!" Corinthia ordered.

Shepard smirked. "I really need to teach you how to order drinks."

"We've got time. And a tab." Corinthia winked. "Is that a challenge?"

"You know it."

"Bring it on, Shep."

"You got it, Ci-Ci. Rita, two shots of vodka and keep them coming."