I know the last one took forever, but I just couldn't find a way to end it. Now, please, my wonderful readers, work your magic and review me! It only makes me write faster! I think you all will be delighted with this chapter, since it will be quite the Ridley/Shepard chapter. Just a little foreshadowing to keep you on your toes! Ahem, chapter 9.

Ridley POV

Punch, kick, slide. Come on Shepard. Give me an opening here. I can't keep hitting you and hope you'll get tired. As if our sparring isn't already hard enough.

Our sparring matches were almost considered a spectacle. Almost all the crew showed up to watch us face off. Right hook, fake left, swing to the gut. Just a normal weekly sparring match with the legendary Commander Shepard.

"Getting tired yet, Ridley?" Shepard taunted me after an especially painful blow to the gut.

"Why would I?" I replied, snarky, "You're hardly a challenge." I threw my left fist at his jaw, consciously resisting the urge to put some biotic power behind the blow, as the rules clearly stated no biotics, under threat of disqualification.

Shepard grunted, but shook off the blow, resuming his bombardment of my defenses with clever fists. I took the time to reflect on the relationship Shepard and I had. We hadn't really recovered our constantly bickering relationship after the incident on Feros. Sure, we disagreed and argued on many occasions, but never the same way we had before. I was too terrified I might be thrown off the ship, but I hid that fear well. He seemed to be distracted during our arguments, his eyes drifting off in what appeared to be any direction but me, and then when I had finished my case, his eyes would snap back to me, his mouth moving a million miles a minute.

His behavior growing more peculiar every passing day, I constantly mentally analyzed our altercations. What had I said? What had I done to make him behave this way? For this reason, I looked forward to our weekly sparring matches with eagerness, hoping that he would divest new information about his actions in the heat of the moment. But that was all before Noveria. Everything was different now.

His behavior was still strange, but when we were in rooms together alone, the tension skyrocketed, and our easy banter seemed to carry a hidden meaning constantly now.

This was our first match since Noveria, which had been three days ago. I had thought that after the icy world we would return to our uncomplicated friendship of the past, but that wasn't happening. Now it was like we were in limbo, not friends, not acquaintances, nor anything else. This sparring match was going to determine whether we were friends or just crewmates.

And so far I had no idea.

Out of the blue, I spotted a weak spot in Shepard's defense. I faked left and punched him in the stomach with my right fist, causing him to groan. After my blow to his stomach, Shepard was severely weakened and he knew it. So, to evade me he circled me, and our eyes locked.

The whole world slowed, the crowd's cheers faded, everything seemed to stop as we stared intensely at each other. My blue eyes scrutinized his green ones, trying to discern why he had such a hypnotizing effect on the both of us. We circled one another, and I was sure that to anyone else, we would seem to be glaring at each other, but in the little world we had created, we studied each other as if to understand the opposites soul.

Then, inexplicably, a moment of understanding passed between us, a well-kept secret neither of us were expecting. We'd both looked at each other with this same intense gaze we now had focused on each other, we had both had thoughts about each other that were not meant for friends run rampant through our minds, and we had both imagined things in regard to each other.

In that moment of realization, the tension in the room exploded, leaving us both panting even faster with a thousand emotions. For a split second, I thought about how what had transpired would effect us. Who were we now to each other? How were we going to move on from this?

Before I could dwell on the thousands of questions in my mind further however, Shepard halted his prowl and lunged at me, his left fist extended with the intent of a knockout. I dodged the lunge, but was still struck by his piercing blow. The hit reared me back, sending me hurtling towards the ground, and I only just managed to stop myself from hitting the ground with pounding force.

"The match goes to Shepard!" Garrus called out, almost gleeful, happier than I had ever seen him.

Shepard extended his hand, and for a beat I considered taking it. But instead I got myself up, sauntering away from the soon crowded commander.

In the hours that proceeded the match, I reflected on it. What had happened between Shepard and I was no small matter. We had both acknowledged our attraction and seemed to be almost in stasis, ignoring each other.

Now it was just past one in the morning, and any sane crew member was asleep. So, naturally, I was awake.

I silently walked to get a cup of coffee, unconsciously fishing out the tools required. The Alliance crew members had begun to joke that I was a zombie since I never slept and seemed to function solely on coffee and instant ramen. Meanwhile, our alien counterparts scratched their heads as to what a zombie was. I silently laughed at the thought of Garrus giving what I could only guess was a turian confusion expression. His mandibles were twitching enough.

"Something funny?" A voice called out to me, nearly making me drop my coffee cup. I turned to see Shepard's face, a slight smile evident.

"Not particularly. You finding anything especially funny today?" I asked, covering up my shock with a question.

"Nah." he said, shaking his head, "Would you mind pouring me some coffee, too?"

"No, I would not." I said, with a joking undertone, trying to mask my discomfort at the prospect of him sitting there.

Sure enough, after Shepard received his brew, he stayed at the counter, leaning against it. I sipped my cup, avoiding eye contact, and an uncomfortable silence settled among us. The seconds ticked by until I decided to abandon my coffee in favor of the more safe and less confrontational crew's quarters.

But after I had set my cup down and made to pass Shepard, he grabbed my hand, stopping my escape in it's tracks.

"Shepard..." I said while tugging my hand away, but his arm came around my torso, followed soon by his body. We were so close together that we were breathing the same air, his superior height causing him to have to bend his down so that his eyes could meet mine. I was aware of everything, from his thin t-shirt and pajama pants, to my shorts and racerback. I was aware of his arms grazing mine, our knees almost pushed together, our bodies a fraction away from touching.

"Shepard, we... you... this can't happen." I finished, practically shivering from the feedback of my hypersensitive senses. My eyes dodged his, my thoughts scattered by the overwhelming closeness.

"Why not?" he asked, his eyebrow arched in question, his words steady in confidence.

"You're the commander and I'm a soldier, that's why." I replied, my eyes still dodging his.

"But you aren't a soldier. You're just you. You always have been." Shepard said, his head slowly inching towards mine, "And that's why I like you. That's why we are going to do this. Because I know you like me and I obviously like you."

"Shepard, you don't understand." I said, taking a few steps back, freeing myself from his mesmerizing presence, why does he always have that effect on me? "It's more than just you being my superior officer. It's because there are things about me you don't know, and if you did, you would never even consider doing what you're doing right now."

"You're an assassin, how much worse could it get?"

"A lot worse!" I yelled and turned away from him, wishing I was anywhere but behind that counter.

Before I could even take a step though, Shepard's hand grabbed my arm and spun me around, and his lips smashed into mine. In a breath I was overtaken by feelings I had bottled up for so long, and my hands came up to cup Shepard's cheeks, and I knew, I would never be able to forget this. Long after Shepard was gone, driven away by the thing that made me who I am, I would remember this moment, the feeling of being pressed up against an Alliance counter, warm hands gently caressing my hips and face, and most of all, the feeling of Shepard's lips against mine, feeling so right, tasting of coffee and the home I never had and mouthwash.

But the second he opened his eyes to look at me with a look filled not with lust, but with something else entirely, I felt my carefully constructed mental walls crumble in submission to the small glimmer of hope that was that look. Maybe... maybe he can accept me. That dangerous thought escaped my head, and I knew I wore a look mirroring his.