A/N 7/19/2012: Thanks to GoogleFloobs for thetaing (Check out his story)! Again, this story is currently under revision, so please excuse any inconsistencies. A full plan of my revisions is avail in Chp. 59, Author's Explanatory Note: An Update.

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!

11 May 2183 — Flux, Market Ward, the Citadel, Widow Cluster, Serpent Nebula

"Wait, we're going to Flux?" Garrus asked.

Shepard stopped, cracking his neck. "What? You expected Chora's Den?"

"Well, it is a 'man's night'," Alenko replied.

"Like I want some asari waving her ass in front of me," Shepard growled. "Or any stripper, for that matter."

Garrus and Alenko exchanged glances. Alenko knew about Corinthia, but Garrus had no idea — at least, Garrus acted like he had no idea.

"So it's one of those drinking nights," Garrus murmured, pointing to a corner table. This is green. "

"So it's one of those drinking nights," Garrus murmured, pointing to a corner table. "I'm still not clear on why I'm here exactly. I've nursed a few friends through these...things, but you aren't anywhere close to a friend, Shepard."

"You're here because Shepard wasn't going to drink with just me," Alenko said. Meaning that Alenko didn't want to be alone with Shepard.

"So, Lieutenant, fill me in. What exactly is the problem here? Is it a problem with Ci-Ci and Shepard because I'm not exactly qualified for that..." Garrus shifted a bit nervously as they sat down. "It's not really my place and I'm not exactly neutral."

Shepard glared at Alenko. "I thought this was just going to be a binge."

Alenko ignored him. "Shepard kinda... came onto Ci-Ci. That's why he's been pissed and moody. And why Ci-Ci's looked out of it."

Shepard groaned. "Fuck you, Alenko."

"Ah...thing is, I don't see a problem there," Garrus mused. "Ever since I met her, Ci-Ci has done nothing but praise you, Shepard. She went on and on about how great you were, how great the Butcher was. She never said it that way, but that's sure as hell what everyone else thinks. She thinks you're some kind of damn hero. I don't agree.

Shepard gritted his teeth. "So why do I need your approval, Vakarian?"

Garrus intimidatingly narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. "I've known Ci-Ci for years, I've looked out for her. I'm not about to stop."

Shepard crossed his arms. "Why haven't I heard about this? I never even heard of you until the Council Tower."

"Did you ever ask, Shepard?" The turian's gravelly voice began to rise. "You have to have known she would make some friends outside of your godly self. Just because the Butcher doesn't have anyone doesn't mean that Ci-Ci wouldn't. You want my honest opinion?"

Shepard snorted. "Why should I? Alenko, get us some drinks. And the good shit, too."

Garrus stood. "I'll get them. No offense, Lieutenant, but you wouldn't know what to get. I've been here for a while, I know what's good. Calm your boy down so we can have a civilized discussion when I get back." The turian left for the bar, frustrated at the way the evening was shaping up.

Garrus had been watching out for Corinthia for years. Well, sort of. They'd crossed paths, he'd kept her out of trouble, she'd helped him out, and they'd gotten to know each other. She was sweet and innocent, the kind of person Garrus always tried to look out for. He was always the kind of person to look out for people that he didn't think could protect themselves. There was a long list of citizens that he checked in on periodically; Corinthia was one of them. Of course, she checked in more often than not, talking about what she could and then babbling on and on about Shepard. Garrus didn't even have to know about romance (which he didn't know a thing about) to know how much she liked Shepard. So, Garrus had expected some kind of paragon, but instead he'd found that Shepard was cold, ruthless, and almost heartless. Not her type. Actually, Garrus didn't even get why she was interested.

Alenko studied his hands. "Well... Maybe we shouldn't have brought him."

Shepard nodded. "Fucking right."

"What did you want me to do? Sit here alone with you while you bitched?"

"This isn't any of his business."

"Apparently it is. Like he said, you aren't her only friend."

Shepard inhaled deeply. He hadn't thought of that. Or wanted to think of that. He didn't think he was that bad. "Whatever."

"I think you care, Shepard."

"Shut up, Alenko."

"Ready have our discussion, Shepard?" Garrus appeared with three pitchers of what appeared to be beer. One was green, clearly for the turian's dextro-amino acid diet, the other two a deep brown.

"If you got the good stuff, yeah," Shepard replied.

"So, Shepard, why should our girl even consider you?"

Shepard barked with laughter. "Our girl? Are we really having this conversation?"

Garrus shrugged. "Well, if you want our help, you're going to have to prove that I shouldn't put a bullet in your forehead."

Alenko poured himself a glass of beer. "And this is the part where I stay out of it."

Shepard glared at Alenko. "I'm blaming you for this."

"You're the one that asked to go drinking," Alenko replied.

Shepard looked between them. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?" he asked.

Garrus crossed his arms. "Not if you want to be able to talk to her again."

"You don't have any say in that."

"With the way things are going, I'm not sure you're going to," Alenko answered.

Shepard groaned. "Fuck... You two are dicks, you know that?"

Garrus shrugged. "Part of the C-Sec uniform. That death-glare part of yours?"

"Take a guess why."

Garrus leaned forward. "I'll make it easy for you. All I want to know is that you actually like the girl, because you don't strike me as the 'settle down' type. Or even the one woman type."

Shepard stared at his glass. "Never met a woman worth that kind of dedication," he reluctantly answered. "Never thought I'd even want that. Her..."

"You'd better start defining your terms, Shepard, because if it's just to sleep with her —"

"Hell no. That'd be... I mean, she's my friend. Yeah, I'd want to, but that's got nothing to do with her. It. Us. Fuck..." Shepard took a massive drink. "I can't just be friends with her anymore," he continued hoarsely after a long moment. "I can be that without caring. But I — Shit. This was exactly why I don't make friends, especially with girls. They're so... emotional and affectionate and then you just have to start talking to the one that's actually, you know... perfect. Then you're fucked." As annoyed as his words were, he actually sounded fond of her, like he was actually kind of enjoying the fact that she'd gotten to him. His lips were curling into a small, contented smile and he took another drink, this time much smaller. "Been fucked ever since Akuze, if you ask me. Just too damned stubborn to notice."

Garrus relaxed a little. Shepard was certainly being candid, actually showing his feelings about the girl. At least he sounded like he respected her. "So, let me get this straight," he slowly said. "You care about her enough to not touch her?"

"Not unless she asks."

"Good call. Now I can let you live."

Shepard smirked. "As if you'd get in my way."

"Yeah, I already know better. It'd be bad for my health."

Alenko could feel the tension dissipating. "How about another round?" he offered. "This one's on me."

12 May 2183—SSV Normandy, Docks, the Citadel

Corinthia and Liara had passed out in the lab. Corinthia's omni-tool had almost fried itself trying unsuccessfully to track down a Prothean code translator. So, she'd had to start creating one. It would take ages, but it would work.

She woke up, her neck so stiff it was painful and her arm asleep. It was the discomfort that woke her, though. Instead, it was the glare of hatred that Shepard had given her back in the conference room. It had bothered her then, but she'd pushed it down and distracted herself. Then again, she hadn't had anywhere to hide.

It had hurt. A lot. Shepard had always looked at her with feelings between tolerance and affection and annoyance, but never dislike, let alone as much as he'd shot at her. She must really have hurt him, on a level that she hadn't even known could be affected. No one got under his skin, not like that.

How had she missed it? How did she not know how much he cared about her? Because she was stupid, or something like that. In reality, she was just scared of what would happen. He held back so much that he'd either show her nothing or hold back nothing. As much as she wanted to see all of him, she was almost terrified of it, too. Every time she thought of him, she couldn't decide if she wanted to be with him or not. She kept using regs as an excuse, but if Shepard put his mind to it, he wouldn't care. He hadn't, which was why he'd kissed her at all.

Corinthia tried to dismiss the image of him disliking her, instead replacing it with how happy he'd seemed the night they'd spent out after he became a Spectre. He'd been then what she wished he could always be: Happy, sweet, and affectionate. Well, at least to her. She thought it was almost hilarious how cold he could be to most anyone else. She explained him away and she would always do that for him, even when he didn't want it.

But, as hard as she tried, she couldn't get the Reds out of her head. Now that the initial shock had passed, she was actually starting to process it. The information had surprised her. It was almost impossible to surprise her; she saw the threads of everything weaving together into a web. The problem was more that she'd created an intricate story to explain him away to herself. Then he'd told the truth and she'd had to put it all back together, fit reality into everything else. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that she should've seen it coming, but she'd wanted to think well of him, to excuse his ruthlessness as having been part of some traumatic event. Instead, he'd chosen to be like that.

Well, maybe he did have to be, but at least he'd finally fessed up for it. She was really starting to understand him, not just guess or make something up. Ultimately, however, the only thing that had changed was the context in which she saw him. Knowing his past made everything clearer — worse, but clearer. It also made his latest efforts all the more... endearing. That wasn't the right word, though. Important? Critical? Admirable? Enlightening?

Shepard was changing. A lot, and he was doing it quickly. His interactions with her had been generally kind for a long time, but lately he'd started being downright sweet. Or as close to it as someone like him got. His birthday party, the night he'd become a Spectre, when he'd told her about the Reds... She'd overreacted, at least to him kissing her. He had to know that she cared about him, so much more than she could even start to express, but she hadn't been ready to be with him, not in that moment.

Now, though? If she hadn't messed everything up, she'd let him kiss her again. She'd be with him in a heartbeat, but maybe not just then because of Saren. Because of how much one little misunderstanding had affected the crew. If they did anything, it had to be perfect — no arguments, no spats, no miscommunication. Could Shepard do that? They'd argued almost every time they'd hung out, but she was now almost positive that it had been because he didn't know to be just friends with her anymore.

Corinthia snapped back into reality as Liara started moving. The Lieutenant Commander quickly changed screens of her omni-tool to make it look like she'd been working.

"Any luck?" Liara asked.

"Nope." Corinthia rubbed her eyes. "I'm zonkered. I should get some sleep."

"Yes, yes... Of course. I should have known it would not take one night. I was too eager to think clearly."

Corinthia smiled. "It's fine. I would be, too, if I got access to, I don't know, the Shadow Broker's tools. THAT would be fun and I'd get into so much trouble... Rest up, Liara. Shepard'll probably want you on the next mission or something."

Liara staggered over to the cot in the corner. "Thank you for the warning. I must steel myself for that."

"It's not that bad. Don't worry about him. I'll make sure that he's nice this time around."

Liara hesitated. "Will you be able to? I started to understand some, but I was under the impression that there was much tension between the two of you."

Corinthia sighed. "I'm dealing with it as soon as he gets back. I'll see you around, Liara."

Joker was pouting, as usual. Shepard and the boys — meaning Garrus and Alenko — had gone out drinking and hadn't invited the pilot. Admittedly, Joker wasn't exactly in the best position to do something like that, nor did he really want to be anywhere near a drunken Commander, but it was more of the fact that Shepard had snapped at every attempt at wit that hurt Joker. Well, "hurt" being a word chosen out of self-pity. Joker really didn't care, but he kinda wanted the mood to lighten a little more. It was like someone had upped the cabin pressure and exchanged all the air for lead. Not cool.

Even Corinthia was acting pissy. Then again, she and Liara had holed themselves up in the medical lab like two thieves and a shiny new gem. They were just begging for trouble. Or to make the place spontaneously combust in a fit of giggles. Women were trouble, if you asked Joker. Not that he had much experience, but that was because they were trouble. Cyclical argument or not, he was going to stick to it like the stubborn man he was.

Corinthia came up, stretching. "Any sign of Shepard?" she asked.

"You kidding me? They ran out of here like their asses were on fire," Joker answered. He hesited. "I heard him muttering your name a few times. What'd you do?"

"None of your damn business," Corinthia answered. "Are you always this nosy?"

"I don't get to move around much so I have to get my gossip from everyone else," Joker replied, dripping as much sarcasm as he could. "I thought you'd be a good choice, knowing the Commander so well."

Corinthia groaned. "Please, don't... Seriously. Shepard will flip a gasket — wait, it's blow a gasket, isn't it? Urgh, this whole thing is frying my mind." She rubbed her temples, fingering the smooth scar tissue on one side. "Did Shepard say why we're even here?"

"Drinking," Joker answered. "Maybe you can find a better excuse, but I can't think of one."

Corinthia opened her omni-tool. "There's a long list, actually. A very long list. I'll arrange some meetings and make it look like we're dealing with Saren. Which we will be true, mostly."

"What are you? His secretary?"

"His buffer."

Shepard staggered onto the Normandy, laughing hysterically and trying to support Alenko with Garrus's help. None of them could remember having that much fun in a long time (Shepard and Corinthia hadn't had fun hanging out in years, even if he enjoyed being around her. Besides, Shepard could only remember the hang over after the night they did have fun).

Joker craned his neck to see what was going on. "Damn it, I'll fracture a vertebra to do this…" he muttered.

Garrus caught his breath. "So I looked at the guy and said, 'That's fine, but why are you wearing her helmet?'"

Shepard pounded the floor, unable to speak. Alenko clutched his side. Joker looked between the three of them, aghast. "Looks like someone decided to drink the whole bar. And you didn't think to bring me any?"

Corinthia pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. She'd been out with him enough times to know that Shepard certainly wasn't as drunk as he could've been. If anything, she could laugh because she knew the story about the guy, the girl, and the helmet.

"Commander, are you unfit for command?" Corinthia asked, hoping that some kind of joke would make him less likely to go all cold on her.

"Yes, very unfit," he answered, clumsily getting to his feet. He swayed as he tried to lean forward intimidatingly. "I gladly defer to the most beautiful woman in the Alliance, even if she did… snub me."

Corinthia relaxed. He hadn't even stiffened or flinched, just flirted. Well, that wasn't a good thing since she was technically still on duty, but it was better than what they'd had before.

She laughed. "That isn't the word I would use."

Garrus and Alenko helped each other up.

"Commander, why is the ship tilted?" Alenko asked.

"It's not tilted. You are," Joker answered. "It might help if you turn your head upright… Yeah like that."

Garrus pawed the ground. "Seems stable enough, but is she space worthy?"

Corinthia held up her hands. "Okay, boys. You need some serious recoup. And water and some food, too. Higgins, Arms, please help me get them to bed."

Two of the crew stood, saluted, and did as they were ordered. Corinthia ducked under one of Shepard's arms and walked him towards the back of the Normandy. He leaned heavily on her and made it nearly impossible to get down the stairs to the crew quarters.

"Why do you insist on getting drunk so often?" she groaned.

"Maybe you're giving me a good reason to," he answered, grinning deviously.

She set him on his bed and set about trying to unstrap his boots. He fell backwards and stared at the ceiling. They weren't arguing, which was a good start. She was taking care of him. Again. He didn't know if he liked it or not, her taking care of him. She did it so many times, but maybe it was recompense for her reaction before... He didn't know. His mind was too muddled and fuzzy to think properly, anyway. Just being with her was starting to make him feel better. Or something.

"I fucked up," he said after a long moment.

"It's okay," she answered. "I get it."

"I'm not talking about tonight."

"I know." She tugged off his shoes and set them in the closet. She ran her fingers through her hair, releasing a long breath. "I messed up, too."

Shepard propped himself up on his elbows. "Bullshit."

She smiled, bemused. "Are you sober enough to even be having this talk?"

"Yeah. I only had, like, five. Stopped drinking when I decided to... talk to you. Deal with this."

"Okay..." Corinthia went to the door and locked it. She rested her hand on the frame, not looking at him. "Look, no matter what else we talk about, we have to agree now that we can't keep acting like this. You and I have to act like we're professional for all of this, alright? There can't be any bad blood between us, not with something this critical. I can get myself reassigned if you need it, but if we're on the same ship, we can't keep acting like this."

Shepard spread his hands. His good mood was going quickly, the less tipsy and more sober he became. "You think I liked it? I fucking hated it! Yeah, it was only a couple days, but you've never been this pissed at me before —"

Corinthia held up a hand. "I'm not pissed at you, okay?" She stepped forward, kneeling before him and taking his hands before he could continue. "And don't talk, either. You'll just shoot yourself in the foot and you know it." She inhaled deeply, gathering her words. "You caught me off guard with your story. I told myself that I'd be your friend no matter what, but I needed time to, you know, fit everything in with what I'd guessed. I still need time, really, but if you'd just... waited until after Therum, then maybe..."

"Cassie..." Shepard murmured. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, nor could he dare to hope.

Corinthia bit her lip. "What do you want me to say, John? That I like you? That I care about you? I do. Both of those things. A lot. Enough that it could get me into trouble. You scared me a little. I..." She blushed. After a second, she sat on the bed next to him.

Shepard didn't need to hear her say anything else. He intertwined his fingers with hers, leaning in slightly. She stiffened.

"Cassie, please, just trust me," he murmured.

She nodded slowly. "You know I do, but I'm not..."

Shepard gently put his lips against her temple, right over her newest scar. He'd kissed plenty of women, but never like that — never softly or kindly or anything but their lips.

"It's fine," he reassured her. "I'm not sure that I am, either, but I just know that... Fuck, how do I say this?"

Corinthia smiled. "I don't think you have to. Well, okay, I'll want to hear it eventually, yeah, just so I know, but... I get it. I think. You... and me..."

"Us," Shepard put in, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.

"Us," she repeated quietly.

"Yeah. I mean, you're... shit. I had it — the words for it — earlier." He ran a hand over his head.

"I already told you that you don't have to."

"But I want to. I can' t just assume anything with you because you keep goddamn surprising me. Just give me a second to figure out what to say." Shepard stared at their hands, unable to even express how relieved he was that they could sit like that. "You know I don't talk; I do, so this isn't —"

"John, shh," Corinthia murmured, putting her head on his shoulder. "Will it be easier if I ask the questions?"

"Maybe..."

She took a deep breath. He could feel her blushing as she asked, "Do you like me? Romantically, I mean."

"Yes," he answered, swallowing hard. His heart raced. He'd just admitted to liking her, which was either a dream come true or his worst nightmare.

Thankfully, she didn't move. "Do you want to be more than friends?"

"Yes." Shepard wanted to stop her, but it was only half-heartedly. He felt weak and vulnerable, like he'd exposed his only weakness and she was readying to strike. Part of him knew that she wouldn't do that, at least intentionally, but oftentimes she didn't understand the affect she had on people. He started as her head left his shoulder. For a second, he panicked, thinking that he'd driven her off, but instead she touched his cheek to make him look her in the eye.

"Can you wait?"

Her question took Shepard a little by surprise. Actually, he hadn't known what to expect because every scenario was just wrong in his head. It didn't matter if she was asking about sex or simply being together or both, because the same answer came to the tip of his tongue and tumbled out before he thought about it.

"Yeah. Not like I'm ever going to feel like this again."

Corinthia cocked her head to one side. "Inebriated?"

Shepard laughed, putting his arm around her shoulders. "You're pushing your luck for some stupid-ass sappy comment, Ci-Ci."

She laughed maniacally. "I'll extract them from you before long. Now... How the hell am I going to swing this with the Brass?"

Shepard shrugged. "We don't tell them."

"The entire crew already guesses."

"Fuck 'em. I don't care. Not like they'll investigate again. Besides, I'm a Spectre. I can do what I want."

"Hah. THAT I'd like to see."

She made to stand, but Shepard pulled her back. "Stay," he murmured, putting a hand on her waist. He drew her closer to him, almost like he was going to kiss her, but he remembered himself — and the fact that she'd just asked him to wait for... something — and didn't bring her as close as he wanted.

She shook her head. "You need to sleep. I'll be your teddy bear some other time."

Shepard smirked. "That a promise?"

"Good night, John." She went to the door.

"Hey, Cassie."

"Yeah?"

He took a deep breath. "Thanks, for... For coming to me. For listening to all that and not hitting me. For... being there through all the shit I've put you through."

Corinthia smiled, coming back to him. She slipped into his arms, snuggling up against his chest. "It's what I'm here for: empathy, understanding, and apathy. Not that I don't care about you, because I do. Wrong word, damn it. What am I trying to think of?"

Shepard was more than happy to hold her against him, so he just embraced her, probably more tightly than he should have for an innocent moment.

"Uh... Forgiveness?" he offered.

"Yes! That's the one! You're so smart."

"Not nearly as smart as you."

"Oh, hush, child." She wriggled a little in his grip. "Uhm, you gonna let me go?"

"What? Oh, yeah. Right." Reluctantly, he let her out of his grip. "You -You aren't going to apologize for this in the morning, are you?"

Corinthia turned crimson. "Assuming you don't change your mind."

"You know how stubborn I am." He wasn't ready to tell her how long he spent fighting his feelings, but the words almost came out. "As if I'd go back on this. I'm not fucking this up. I can't afford to do that again." He honestly felt a little desperate to convince her that he wasn't going to change his mind, but the moment she smiled, he knew he could relax.

"I think we've been thought enough to say that we're both too stubborn to let our friendship crash and burn," she replied, grinning.

"This isn't just friendship anymore, Cassie."

"I know." She giggled.

Shepard stroked her cheek, running his fingers along her scars. He wanted to kiss her, so badly, but she had to get used to it — him — first. God knew he wasn't the most patient of men, by any means, but he'd survived this long. Still, she was sure that she'd get used to it quickly; she had always adjusted to change well.

"I should go," she said after a long moment, sounding disappointed to be leaving him. Her cheeks were crimson and Shepard was almost positive she'd think this was a dream in the morning

"Yeah..." he answered. As much as he wanted to, he wasn't going to fight it. It wasn't the time for that, with her being as shy as she was and with everything being so... new. And fucking great.

"Night." She hesitantly kissed his cheek before going. Shepard saw it coming, thought about intercepting her, but didn't. He'd done that once before and he didn't want another fight after such a good night.

The second the door closed, Shepard fell back against his bed, a stupid grin spread across his face. For the first time that he could remember, he actually felt happy, to the point that he thought he could laugh. Sure, he hadn't made out with her, but he wasn't stupid enough to try that twice without her asking for it. Besides, all good things came to those that waited.

Best of all, she hadn't hated him. She cared about him. Him. He didn't deserve it, he knew, but he wasn't going to take it for granted. He'd die fighting to keep her if he had to.