Shepard hated vents. Whoever had invented them should be shot, in her opinion. Always just large enough that she could fit, but barely and with much suffering. She also never liked leaving her weapons behind, even knowing that they at least would not be alone. She forced her way around a tight corner, swearing as the movement tug at the wound in her shoulder.

"Everything ok in there?" His concern would have been touching, if amusement had not laced the question.

"Just peachy," she answered tartly. "I'm about halfway to the security center."

"You are going to actually make it sometime in the next –"

"Finish that sentence, I dare you," she warned. "I don't see your scaly ass in here."

"I would never fit, you know that. Besides, I know how much you like vent crawling."

She picked up her pace, ignoring her screaming muscles. Shooting him would be hard unless she got out and got her guns back. "Why is it that every time we are on a mission together you find someway for me to end up in the vents?"

"Maybe I just like the idea of you on your hands and knees."

She definitely was going to shoot him. "There isn't enough room for me to be on my hands and knees, asshole." Something moved in the shadows ahead. "Oh fuck."

"What? Shepard?" This time, his concern came across honestly.

"Tell me you don't have anything on you sensors." She shifted slightly, trying to find a way to get leverage for a punch, a jab, anything. Next time, her pistol came with her, even if it meant it would take twice as long to crawl with one hand.

"I've got nothing. Shepard, tell me you aren't in there with a cloaked infiltrator."

She doubted it, considering she had not been shot yet. Or maybe her opponent left their guns behind too. Gathering her courage, she hit the high beam on her omnitool, flooding the area in front of her with light. The black shape charged.

"Holy fucking shit!"

"Shepard? Shepard! Talk to me."

"I'm ok, I killed it."

"It?"

"Yah," she said, still staring at the large carcass in front of her. She had to hit it against the wall four times before it stopped moving. And stab it with her omniblade. The thing must be the size of her head. Bigger. With fangs. She was pretty sure those counted as fangs. She supposed it was a rat, but she had never seen one that big. Space clearly had been good to the Earth rodents. "I think it's a rat."

"A what? Hold on, I'm looking it up." A pause. "Really Shepard? It looks kinda cute."

"Try looking up space rat," she suggested starting to move forward again as quickly as possible. She did not want another encounter.

"I can't believe you screamed. You'll face down a krogan, but not some Earth fuzz ball? I thing I want one as a pet."

"It came at my face! And the size of this thing – I swear it –" she stopped at the sound of snickering over the comm. He thought it was funny did he? Shooting him would not be enough.

A few minutes later she reached her destination, sighing with relief. She knocked out the grating, and slid out, not even bothering to see if the guards were dead liked promised. They were, two humans, one with a neat hole in his head, the other who looked like he had gone a couple of rounds hand-to-hand with a turian. Probably because he had.

"I'm in," she said. "You made a mess in here earlier. Sending the lift. Bring my guns."

"Shouldn't they bring me? Considering you left them in charge?"

She snorted, typing away at the console. "I didn't leave them in charge."

"You told them to 'Stay here and make sure he doesn't get his ass shot'. I didn't get any instructions other than 'Stay quiet. Laugh once and I will shoot you.'"

"And we can see which one of you follows orders. No wonder I leave the difficult ones to the guns." She sat in an empty chair, and started pulling up security feeds. The station looked like it had been through hell.

"I think you just like giving orders," he replied. "Isn't that why you run with a team now?"

She flipped through the videos. "Who told you that?"

"Bau did. Why didn't you?"

"You never asked. Besides, it's not new information, or all that important. Not all of us 'do better on our own'. Some of us like to have back up."

Silence was her response for a while. Then, "I don't always like to work alone. I just – "

"I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to poke at old wounds."

"They're old for a reason, Shepard," he replied dryly. "What happened with Saren happened ages ago. And I don't regret the choice I made then. Just the one I made later."

"Hell, don't go all reflective on me now. I understood then. What I said still stands, if you ever –"

"Change my mind, I'll let you know," he finished, his voice no longer just over the comm. He came up beside her, peering at the videos. "Spirits, you did a number on this place."

"Says the man responsible for the bodies in here," she snorted. He waved a hand.

"Had to figure out where Harper made his hidey-hole somehow. Not all of us are blessed with schematics. Besides, if I hadn't taken care of them earlier, you would have had to now. That is, assuming the rat didn't get you first."

That reminded her. "Hey," she said and waited for him to turn to her before flinging her surprise.

He jerked, drawing and shooting impossibly fast. No time to aim, however, and he only clipped the carcass before it hit his helmet. Shepard snickered as he swore and flicked it off, while taking a few steps back hastily.

"Spirits, what is that thing?'

"Space rat," she answered, still laughing.

He stared at the spot where it landed. "I take it back. All of it. Spirits, are they usually that size?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Spirits," he repeated. "That's it. When we get off this station, I'm blowing it up. We can't afford to unleash that sort of thing on the galaxy."

Shepard wholeheartedly agreed.