Location: Outside rooftop—SSV Dublin—Ontarom

Vega and Liam sat on the ship's rooftop, supervising the slow teardown of the makeshift shooting range. Jarheads worked down range on ground level under floodlights, bringing equipment and vehicles back to the hangar in the last stage of preparations for pre-flight.

"You strike me as a guy I'd have to pry from the Earth's surface," Liam said, raising a bottle to his lips and cringing at the lack of alcohol in it.

Vega snorted and took a swig from his own. "Nah, Loco. It wasn't always like that. I used to love space."

"Yeah?" Liam frowned in amusement. "When?"

"When I was a kid," Vega replied, pausing to look up at the starry night. "No matter how bad shit got, I knew there was more to the universe than what I had. I wanted to escape to space." He took another gulp and laughed. "But now I see it's the same shit-hole as Earth. Kinda makes me wanna go back and do shit differently." He turned to Liam. "Know what I mean?"

"I do..." he replied, remnants of his conversation with Parasini still fresh in his mind.

"Hmph, look at us fucking new guys reminiscing about home," James said, shaking his head.

"Your home at least." Liam shot him a sideways smile.

Vega face-palmed then chuckled before offering a mock bow. "Shit. Excuse me Mr. Spacer born and raised."

"You're forgiven," Liam mocked, taking another swig of the good stuff. "My sister was born on Earth. I guess that makes me an earthling by association," he clarified, knowing full well that Earth was just another planet in the grand scheme of things. Nothing special.

"Hmph, unless you're born there it's hard to appreciate it. Or in my case, love it." James smacked a palm to his chest mockingly for effect.

"Sounds like you broke its heart by leaving," Liam ragged, staring his friend down. "What would you do differently?"

Vega took a deep gulp from his bottle. "Patience, I guess...I'd have more patience for my dad and his bullshit."

Liam swallowed another swig of the bitter drink and turned to his friend. "From what you told me about him, sounds to me like you had plenty of that already."

James shrugged and hung his head, cradling the bottle between his legs. "Thing is, I always pushed him for answers, pissed him off to test his limits. I just never understood what the drug trade was to him, never found out why he joined up in the first place."

"Your uncle never told you?" Liam asked, knowing Vega idolized the man.

James shook his head again. "He told me it was about a woman. Though I don't know if I should believe that," James replied, scratching the coarse hairs on his chin. "I've seen him try to hit on the senoritas. I think his failure prompted me to try harder."

"Vega trying harder," a feminine British accent sounded behind them, before Sam Traynor came into view. "I don't think that's possible."

James smiled as Liam pat the spot between them. "That's what I've been trying to tell him, Sam. Maybe he'll listen to you."

"I watched you perform 200 push-ups yesterday. You're not having a crisis of confidence are you?" Sam asked, snagging the bottle Shepard passed her and cringing at the taste.

James gave them a loopy smile and leaned back. "Yeah, guess you can't beat perfection."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Liam raised a hand, chugging the last portion of his drink. "Hang on there Mr. Bigshot. We gotta put that claim to the test."

James wobbled to his feet. "We can do that. Right here, right now, you and me, Loco."

"Last one standing," Liam slurred, feeling his vision dip. "Traynor you keep score."

The comm specialist was still looking at the bottle funny, but Shepard didn't have time to see the rest of her reaction as he and James dropped to their bellies onto the prone position. They knew they were both too hammered for 200's but neither would back down.

"Hey, weren't we drinking non-alcoholic?" James wondered aloud.

"Don't try and duck out on me now," Liam commanded, craning his neck towards Sam. "Traynor!"

The comm specialist plopped down beside them with a devious grin. "Are you sure you want to do this?" She brought the label on their bottle closer so that both drunks could read. "This reads original turian ale."

"Pffft, that's nothing," Liam chided. "James and I have had real stuff back in Anhur. Tell her James! Tell her about the Giiiiiin!" Shepard sang.

"Yeah!" The marine growled, wagging a limp finger. "Starts with a C.O.R.O.N.A—C.O.R.O.N.A," James sang back to a vague tune of Bingo as he fought to keep his eyes open. "Ready loco?"

"Born ready!" Liam yelled back, humming James tune.

Traynor shrugged and held her hand up. "Set?" she chopped down. "Go!"

They strained and pushed against the metal for a few passable push-ups before someone turned off the lights.

o~O~o

Location: Lieutenant-Commander Shepard's cabin—SSV Dublin

Liam's head felt like a jackhammer cracked through his skull. He fought to keep his balance as spikes of pain rippled across his body with each movement. Bits of armor were strewn around the floor but he couldn't recall taking it off. The window didn't help as it showed the stars in hyper speed, warping through space. Moving slowly, he sat back down and grasped his head, waiting for the nausea to pass.

"Excellent, you're awake." The British voice was too loud and Liam put a finger to his lips as a signal. "Sorry," she whispered. "Take these."

Two pills appeared in his palm as Chakwas sidled into his vision. His arm was heavy, but somehow he managed to slap his mouth and felt the pills roll in. Water came next as he sipped weakly, all the while dodging her penlight. "Doc?" he croaked.

"Eyes open, Commander," she stated, completely focused on her task. It took some effort but eventually he let his retina's burn for her observation and that ended the torture. "It seems that you will be okay."

"That's not how it feels. What happened?" He asked, mouth heaving with dryness. His stomach twisted in pain as he squirmed.

"You and Mr. Vega had a grand time," she stated, taking a seat in the chair at his bedside and folding her arms neatly. "Both of you fell off the Dublin's roof. Your armor seems to have absorbed most of the shock so thankfully you're unharmed."

"Vega?" Liam asked, eyes widening in realization. There was at least 500 feet between the roof and the ground. There had to have been broken bones or something.

"He's ratcheting the remnants of his breakfast," Chakwas said, with a wane smile. "The drinks went bad months ago. It's a good thing Specialist Traynor was able to get you some help when you passed out. Unfortunately she had to leave you on the roof unattended, in that time both of you fell."

"Sam had some too," Liam said, gulping more water as his strength started to seep back in. "Is she okay?"

"Yes, thankfully she didn't have as much as the both of you."

Liam shook his head in recognition of how lucky they all were. "I don't understand..."

"The label had the wrong expiration date. Not that either of you could read turian," Chakwas informed him. "We dumped the entire batch upon discovery. I've always been weary of alien non-alcoholic beverages."

"Trust me, doc. I'll never betray good liquor again," Liam huffed, setting the glass on the night table. He fumbled with the cabinet near his table, feeling guilty that her last night on the Dublin was spent nursing over him.

She smiled and watched him, frowning when he tried to get up. "What are you doing?"

Liam snagged a bottle from the drawer and offered it to the doctor. "For you, doc. I know it's your last night and I'm sorry for the lame send-off but thanks for everything. "

Chakwas accepted the bottle with genuine surprise. He couldn't be sure if it was due to sentiment or bewilderment, but the sense of gratitude on her features couldn't have made him happier. "I appreciate this, Commander. Serrice Iced Brandy is a guilty pleasure."

"Nothing that good should be guilty," Liam said, scanning the floor as he shivered. "Have you seen my shirt?"

"You need to lie down," Chakwas confirmed, rising with him as he stood.

"What time is it?" He asked, nudging the chest plate at the foot of his bed.

That's when she drew back in realization. "We land in another eight hours, plenty of time to rest before seeing your family again."

"Good," he replied, spotting his shirt on the chair and donning it over his head. With Chakwas' help, he had it on in seconds. "Time for a sobering swim." He couldn't wait to see Michael, but he sure as hell wasn't going to have his son looking at him from a bedside.

"Sober up by sleeping, you mean?" Chakwas insisted, trying to get him to sit down but Liam was shuffling for the door, feeling better with each step.

When they ended up in the empty hallway, he passed by Glen and Casey who gave him a thumbs up. "Tough bastard," Glen roared, splitting his headache into three. "Already on your feet."

"Take it easy, Shepard," Blitz warned, but getting out of his way anyways.

"I'm good, guys," Shepard waved over his shoulder, standing tall and proud as Chakwas squeezed into the lift beside him. When the doors closed he heaved, knowing that if he'd bothered to eat anything, he would be kissing the toilet bowl.

Chakwas rubbed soothing circles on his back. It seemed to help as she pushed the button for the top floor rec room. "Thanks doc," he managed, still bent over.

"You're lucky to be alive, Liam. You need to rest," she insisted.

"I'm fine," he straightened up. "Clean bill of health."

She only shook her head, her eyes telling him that this couldn't be further from the truth. He wasn't one to beg, but he would get down on his knees if it meant deflecting what she was about to say.

"I didn't submit my discretionary psych report," Chakwas said, the words washed over him like music. "I realize that it would do more harm than good to have someone in your state subjected to the Alliance's treatment methods."

"You're an amazing woman, Karin," Liam croaked, opening his arms in invitation.

She shook her head. "Dana knows everything about your progress and current state. It will be up to her if you continue on active missions following shore leave."

Liam felt like he had been pierced in the heart. To let a decision like that rest in the hands of one person was terrifying. He didn't know what he would do with himself if he was confined to the ship.

As the doors pinged on the top floor, Karin pressed the button for the med wing and waited for him to step off. "Well I suppose this is—"

"Thank you," Liam cut her off, genuinely meaning it as he swept her up in a hug. "You've been amazing to me. It's a shame you're being re-assigned."

Chakwas looked surprised but recovered her composure quickly with a languid shrug of her shoulders. "Well, I'm not surprised. It's the way the Alliance has operated for years." She touched his cheek. "Get some help, Liam, as soon as you're able."

He nodded. "I will."

As the doors closed shut behind him and Karin was transported downstairs, Liam made his way to the hot tub room. On the way over his tremors had increased, he recognized the symptoms that were similar to Dillon's when he was in withdrawal. Who knew that poisoning and withdrawal would both feel like death?

He stumbled into the hot tub room, feeling his limbs quake with cold. The hot tub looked so inviting; steam rose above it, promising warmth for all who entered. He wrenched the shirt over his head, wondering why he bothered with it in the first place. Next to go were his pants, kicked off to the side without care. You needed swim trunks for the tub, but seeing as how this was an emergency, he opted for a dip in his boxers. They were like trunks, same Alliance blue color and everything.

It was rapture. Every cell in his body warmed under the liquid, he laughed as the nausea cleared and his muscles unwound.

"Nice swim trunks."

His heart leapt up his throat at the sound of her voice. Liam craned his neck to the amused face of Dana Flores, the only other person in the tub. He didn't know how he missed her before, but his body didn't have the strength for shock so he smiled stupidly. "Thanks."

His breathing laboured, he focused on keeping his head above water and not on how amazing the standard black one-piece bathing suit looked against her body.

"How do you feel?" she asked, her voice was closer this time as she waded over.

Much better with you here. "Much better with you here," he repeated after his thoughts. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and his eyes bulged in realization of what he just said.

But if Flores found anything wrong with that, she didn't show it as she came closer and took a seat beside him. "I've read your report. Noverian Internal Affairs was impressed with your assistance."

Liam shrugged. "I didn't do much, just waved my gun around."

"Regardless, it'll get them to play nice every once in a while. I consider that a victory. "Her gaze dropped, studying his body carefully. He could've sworn she was checking him out, but it wasn't until her hand brushed the jagged scar running from his hip to his arm pit, that he understood why.

"What happened here?" she asked, raising her eyes to his.

It was hard to answer that question when every part of skin she touched tingled with sensation. "That? A memento from Elysium. Long time ago, ma'am."

"Dana," she corrected, resting her hand against his side briefly before pulling away. His arm had a mind of its own as it snagged hers back towards him. The branding on her shoulder looked familiar.

"I remember this," he said slowly.

"You should," she replied, "you have the same one."

"You're an N6." He smiled. Remembering the custom to brand onself an N6 just in case the Villa decided to spit you out before you reached the coveted N7 level.

She nodded, watching him with relaxed amusement.

"What happened?" he asked, sobering a little as he sat up taller.

"Brock happened," she replied, before quickly shaking her head. "That was a long time ago."

"No." He squeezed her arm lightly, keeping her close. "Please tell me," he begged, before adding with a loopy smile. "Otherwise I might drown here, never knowing a single thing about you."

"Would that be such a bad thing?" She asked with a grin, leaning her elbow out against the stone floor, inclining her head to her palm.

"An unforgivable catastrophe," he said, only half feigning seriousness.

She laughed and Shepard forgot all about being helpless and sick. They had never been so close to eachother, especially with so little clothes on. He kept stealing glances at her lips, but she didn't say anything as she decided on what to tell him.

For a moment he thought they were done for until she spoke, "I don't know if it's different every year, but our N6 class had a mock battle as the final test."

Liam nodded in recognition. "The winning class progresses to N7 training. The ultimate team building exercise."

Dana rubbed his shoulder absently as she continued, "it was my team against Brock's. A combined objective based death match took place on Valor island. Our orders were to escort a civilian diplomat to safety, keep the enemy team from uploading a virus to the comm network and detonating a nuke. We had to do all that and capture the enemy team's flag within five minutes."

He smiled, remembering how his squad mates nearly tore eachother apart when they read the insane mission orders. Little did they know that the enemy had the same objective. It wasn't a test of leadership, it was to see how well a group could adapt to the situation and work together against impossible odds.

"Our platoon leader was a good strategist, so we didn't question his judgement," Dana recounted, looking up thoughtfully. "That was our first mistake."

"Two bodies per objective?" Liam asked, remembering how his team of six nearly lost when they initially decided to double team each objective.

"I know. Talk about a clusterfuck, right?" She smirked, still massaging his shoulder. He didn't know if it was the heat from the water or her touch that was making him foggy, but he didn't care. Just as long as she kept talking. "We were spread too thin but were smart enough to realize that on time. We tried to regroup, but that's when we ran into problems. They started hunting our groups of two, taking them out with precision strikes. Our civilian was out of play in seconds."

"That's rough," Liam commented, remembering how the stupid civilian was worth the most points. But was a total uncooperative jerk who tried to flee at any sound of gunfire. "What did you do next?"

"There were four of us left," Dana replied, "one of my squad had the great idea of an ambush, since the other team was moving as one. We were en-route to the satellite when they picked off our sniper."

Without a sniper it was almost impossible to tell who was where. Not to mention the advantage of having someone who could see that far was gone too, a critical time.

"We still went ahead and set up by the satellite," Dana said, shaking her head. "I can't believe it worked but it did. We got Brock and everyone else, but their civilian ran off before we could shoot him for points. The firefight took out our strategist and assaulter, I was the last one standing. The problem was, we were tied. My only option was to get the flag."

Liam smiled. "I like how they never tell you that you can upload the virus and score that way too."

"We thought the same thing," Dana agreed, "upload the bug and your country is toast. So I took off and left the game winning objective behind like an idiot."

"Did you get the flag?"

She nodded. "Had two minutes to sprint across the battlefield and ascend to the N7 training. I was stupid enough to cut through the satellite bay."

Liam frowned. "It was the smartest thing to do. Going around would've taken more time."

"When I was running past 'the fallen' Brock shot me in the back," she explained.

"What?" Liam exclaimed, feeling his stomach protest as he straightened up. "When you're down, you're down. There's no more shooting for you."

"Brock argued that since the round hit him in the shoulder, he was still alive and in play," she said, with a sigh. "We lost."

"Why didn't—" Liam began to protest before realization struck. "Oh that's right—Brock's dad is a big shot Admiral. Of course it ruled in his favor, I'm sorry."

Dana didn't seem to take the apology as she traced his scar again. "He was right in a way. If I killed him right the first time, my team would have made it."

"Well you must've impressed someone if they gave you your own ship," Liam praised, head lolling to face her. "You have N7's answering to you. I think you scored, Dana."

"The most valuable thing I learned is that you must shoot to kill," Dana said, raising her arm to play with his hair. "Brock still hates me for taking him out. I think he blames me for failing his N7 qualification later."

"His loss," Liam slurred, eyes travelling lower than he intended until the water crept up his nostrils.

~O~

Elysium 2176

Liam skirted past the on-coming batarian units and dove into an alcove. The entire fucking city was crumbling around him as terrified people ran out into the streets, only to be shot dead. He popped up to shoot a batarian trooper in the head before he could put a bullet in a man running for cover. "Go south! There's a group of marines. They'll get you out!" He yelled, holding down suppressive fire as the man nodded his thanks and took off.

When the forces drew closer, Liam slunk away, wondering how he was going to stop their massive patrol. These guys weren't fucking around and they were headed right for the Alliance engine research lab.

Beating them to it, he burst into an abandoned section. No civilian casualties would be here. He turned to get out, only to fall through a weak floor.

Scientists backed away from the intruder. Shepard blinked through the dust, raising his rifle at the figures, keeping them back as he coughed.

"You're not supposed to be here."

"Get the fuck back!" Shepard yelled, jumping to his feet. The sterile lab was like something out of a horror film as kids in see-through containment pods pounded on the glass. Their screaming, confusing, disorienting, it wasn't long until a blast took out the far wall and flung everyone back.

Shepard was thrown clear and slammed into a pillar. Something tore at his side, shearing up to his armpit as he yelled out.

~O~

Liam spasmed in pain. Instantly awake and breathing hard he struggled against warm blankets. Somebody was nice enough to give him sweat pants and a nice navy blue t-shirt, but he didn't remember getting dressed. Rays of daylight seeped through the blinds, rousing him back to life.

Relaxing against the soft pillows, it wasn't until the caught the smooth finish of the roof that he realized he was in the wrong bed. Jolting to a sitting position, he looked for something, anything, familiar but found nothing. The place was the same size and layout as his room, but things were more...welcoming.

There was a rug on the floor, a desk with actual paper on it, not just datapads, and pictures of two little girls with a proud man in between them. There was also a smaller one of a smiling woman that resembled the girls, only distinguished by her curly hair.

Liam looked around, smiling. He was probably one of the few people that got to appreciate her living space like this. It wasn't what he expected, but at the same time he wasn't sure what to expect.

"Good timing, Shepard," she said, emerging from the bathroom and moving stray hair from her eyes. It had grown a bit longer over the course of the mission and still looked gorgeous as it fell close to her shoulders. "Feeling better?"

He nodded, too lost for words as he breathed in the specific sweet scent of her on the blankets. Then his brain kicked in. "Last night?"

Dana smirked, throwing her brush aside as she came to sit on the edge of his bed. Her bed. "My story put you to sleep."

"I'm sor—"

She laughed and threw her hand up, stopping all of his protests before he could even begin apologizing. "It's okay. You were pretty out of it." She slipped her jacket on. "Chakwas says it was heat stroke."

Liam ducked his head in embarrassment. "How did you get me in here?"

"I had help," she replied coyly, before adding, "he doesn't talk much. So it'll stay between us."

His chest rose with each breath as his rested brain hungered for answers. "Where did you...did you sleep?"

"I'm fine." She replied, not giving a single hint as to where she slept last night. "And I'll kick your ass out the airlock if you even think about apologizing, Shepard."

He held both hands up in mock defeat.

"Hurry up. Shore leave begins the moment your feet touch Citadel ground." She began to rise.

He didn't know if it was the extra sleep or drugs that gave him renewed vigor, but he lurched forward and grasped both her arms before she could get too far away.

Dana froze, looking to him quizzically as she sat back down with his arms on either side of hers. "You know what I like about you?"

"I don't think I even want to guess," she replied, but didn't move away from him.

He took that as a good sign and continued before he realized what he was doing. "I like your blunt honesty. Your no bullshit attitude." They were close now, just like yesterday there was probably only a breath between them now. "You'd never lie to me."

"Shepard," she warned, but her eyes dropped to his lips.

"So tell me," he asked, cocking his head to the side, watching as her chest rose and fell in tune with his. "Should I kiss you right now?"

She didn't give him an answer and he didn't wait for one. They both moved to close the gap between them when a knock sounded on her door.

They paused, startled. But with one final glance to the door, they threw inhibitions to the wind and closed the gap. Her fingers threaded through his hair and his arms pulled her closer, almost into his lap. Neither paid attention to the knocks as their lips sought eachother out, exploring what they spent months dancing around. Her touch burned him alive, caressing his jaw and blinding him with need.

She was wearing too many clothes and he longed for that time underwater when there was nothing but her creamy skin next to him.

Dana managed to pry herself away enough to look back at the door. "What is it?" She yelled.

"We're setting anchor, ma'am," the gruff voice of Tyler Preston came from the other end. "Crew's ready on your word."

He could hear the soft moan she struggled to suppress as his kisses trailed her collarbone, rising to her neck. She shuddered against him as her palms circled his chest, eventually nudging him away gently. "I'll be there. Get everyone to Deck 1."

"Aye, aye, ma'am." Preston's reluctant footsteps retreated.

Dana sighed and got up before he could convince her otherwise. Her soft touch, falling from his hair to his shoulder was enough to make him nod in understanding. "We have great timing," he commented.

"You don't say?" She shot back, flinging his shirt to him with a smile. "Get down there. I hear the Captain's a real hardass."

"She is," Liam replied popping his head through the shirt and rising to stand before her, "but that's just more of a turn on."

With her uniform done up nicely and everything fitting snug, she was covered away again, tightening the pang in his heart. They stood in close proximity and he could feel her inhibitions returning as she looked around. "I'll see you downstairs," she said after some time, doing her best to remain neutral.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, smiling when he felt her hand creep back up his chest as she bit her lip. He leaned in for another kiss but jumped away, clutching the spot where she touched him. It burned like hell.

Dana stood frozen, as wisps of dark energy engulfed her hand before fading away. She tried to control her breathing as she kept her hand away, eyes large and startled for the first time. Liam didn't know what to do, but quickly rushed over and cupped her hand. "It's nothing," she dismissed.

"Didn't feel like nothing," he remarked, massaging her palm, turning it over in his. "You okay?—agh." He cringed when she tapped the singed area of his shirt.

He quickly pulled it off and looked at the red mark in the shape of a hand print. When Fi was little she used to burn things with her biotics for lack of better control. But Dana was not a biotic.

"That's not right." She studied the burn. He could see the gears turning in her eyes, but as he stepped forward she stepped back. "Go. We can figure this out later, enjoy your party," she said quickly and was out the door before he could stop her.

Liam clung to his shirt and stood rooted to the spot. He had seen this before, they all had. That Cerberus fucker Banes had the same power. But his brain wouldn't let him finish that thought as he bunched the shirt and tried to squeeze it out of existence.

It can't be...