Bioware Owns All. This is a rework of a previous Log, so if parts seem familiar, you're not crazy.

Captain's Personal Log: Horizon

"Commander Meghan Shepard, Captain of the Normandy, first human Spectre, Savior of The Citadel. You're in the presence of a legend, Delan. And a ghost."

I sat in my cabin on that hard bench in one corner they called a couch, knees pulled up to my chest. I'd taken the pins out of my hair and it cascaded, long, blond, curly and unruly down my back. I closed my dry and gritty green eyes; my limbs ached with fatigue, my head throbbing with overuse of my implant from my biotics.

Back on Horizon, Kaidan Alenko had hugged me and it felt like I'd come home after a journey through hell. With his arms around me, the monsters we'd just fought through to save him were inconsequential and for the moment, I was sure everything was right with the galaxy. He'd come around that corner looking a little worse for wear. A few more crow's feet around his eyes, his curly hair not nearly as perfectly in place as regulation required, his dark green armor scuffed like he'd fought through his own battalion of those bug things to get to me.

But his voice, that wonderful voice that sounded the way velvet felt was harsh in my ears for the first time since I'd met him. The shock of the anger in it sliced straight through my core. "I thought you were dead, Shepard, we all did."

I poured myself a whiskey neat, but held it untouched in my hand. I stared at the dark brown color, the color of his eyes. The precious real tobacco cigarette from a pack I'd managed to acquire on Omega burned its way to ash from where it sat between my two fingers. I was unused to smoking and the acrid plume wafting from the burning end singed my nose and seared my lungs. I relented and inhaled a long puff, extending the ash further.

"I spent the past two years believing you were dead. I thought we had something Shepard, something real. I loved you, thinking you were dead tore me apart. How could you put me through that? Why didn't you try to contact me?" His words cut me. I'd tried everything, every way I could to find him. But he'd been so far off the grid, the grid didn't even register him. I'd had to give up, focus on the mission. Hope he'd moved on, even if it tore me up inside. The words wouldn't come and I stared at him helplessly, inanities dripping from my lips instead.

"Why didn't you let me know you were alive?"

Horizon had been tough. The Collectors had been tougher. Kaidan had been the toughest. I slammed back the whiskey, tired of looking at it. It burned all the way down, like his words. I dumped the burnt down cigarette in another glass on the table and lit up another one. Loved. Past tense. Bastard.

"You're with Cerberus now? Garrus, too? I can't believe the reports were right." The agony in that voice made me want to run to him, throw myself in his arms and tell him it wasn't true.

But it was. It wasn't voluntary, but it was out of expedience. And utterly inexcusable in his eyes.

"Reports. You mean you already knew?" Garrus had demanded, rage and pain threading through his voice. I wanted to say something, to him, to Kaidan, but Kaidan continued, ripping my heart out through my chest, his handsome face twisted in hatred.

"You turned your back on everything we believed in. You betrayed the Alliance, you betrayed me."

Had he meant it? Had I betrayed every thing we fought for, everything Ashley had died for in staying with Cerberus and not cutting and running for the Council at the first opportunity? For letting Anderson talk me into his spying game? In this one instance, didn't the ends justify the means? My hand shook as I poured another whiskey. I took a pull on the new cigarette. I'd rushed through that colony, wrenching those bug things to biotic pieces, frantic to find him after the stillness and the emptiness of the town. My heart had nearly stopped when we'd found the first colonist frozen in place. Garrus had picked up on my urgency, but whether it was for me, or to save his friend, I don't know. My one thought, my only thought, had been, Kaidan.

Loved. Past tense.

He'd stood there on that field, wrapped in his self-righteousness, confident in his convictions after I'd risked my life to save him. Again. I could almost feel Garrus behind me, angrier on my behalf every second Kaidan spoke, every recrimination he'd unloaded on me. But Garrus had wisely held his tongue beyond his original outburst. Dirty laundry was better left unshared in front of Jacob Taylor. Which was why I'd greeted Kaidan the way I had. Cerberus or the Alliance (if they weren't the same animal) were already using him as bait. If I publically acknowledged my feelings for him, he'd be in more danger. But he didn't want to listen. He didn't want my explanation.

I felt cold. Numb. I puffed on my cigarette, the emptiness of the nicotine flooding my veins in a rush. He turned his back on me, leaving me with only Garrus to watch my six, ass deep in alligators. I remember shaking, my hand unsteady for the first time since I'd been resurrected as I called the Normandy to be picked up. Clinically dead for two years and my Kaidan asks why I didn't write or contact him?

I still woke in cold sweats as in my dreams I remembered dying. The air leaving my lungs, my vision fading as oblivion claimed me. My crew had flashed before my eyes, Joker, Liara, Tali, Wrex, Chakwas, Garrus; praying they were all safe, wherever they were. My last thought had been of him, glad he lived. As I died, I felt his hands on my face, his lips hungry, his bare skin pressed against mine, my legs and arms around his hips and shoulders as he pressed me into the bulkhead, burying himself inside me as far as he could go. His escape pod rocketing away from the corpse of the Normandy. This nightmare joined the hundreds of others from my past, Akuze, the Protheans, Virmire.

Loved. Past tense.

Had there been something else there, though? Something in those whiskey tinted eyes that was warning me he was lying with every fiber of his being? Could he have been lying? I didn't know. I wanted to think he was, pray he was. But his words, his actions, certainly showed me he didn't trust my judgment at all. He didn't trust my motivations. Had Kaidan grown cagey enough in two years to play that kind of subterfuge? His words, however, were all I had to go on. He said I betrayed him. But he betrayed me by not trusting me.

Loved. Past tense.

The door chimed. He didn't wait for me to tell him to come in, for once, taking the initiative on his own, "Commander?"

"For now," I'd quipped. "The Alliance still has to catch me before they can strip my rank. What do you need?"

"I don't want to speak out of turn. I hope we're close enough after everything we've said already." He'd looked at me thoughtfully, his eyes steady, "What happens if this doesn't work out, Shepard? We mutinied. Stole a prototype warship. If they wanted to get technical, they could throw in kidnapping. We're a hell of an example of humanity's best and brightest, huh?" His mouth had drawn up into that adorable half smile. I felt the same physical reaction I'd felt the fist time he'd smiled at me like that: my knees went weak and I wanted to throw myself at him.

"I don't know about the 'example' part. But as far as saving the galaxy, how good are first timers supposed to be?" I grinned, my hands on my hips.

He laughed, "Fair enough. It'll really hit the fan when we get to Ilos." His voice lowered, got serious, making the base of my spine tingle, and he stepped close enough to touch, "If things don't go well, I want you to know – Well, I've enjoyed serving under you."

My grin widened, a shot of arousal, of need went straight to my groin, "Kaidan, I don't think I've had the pleasure of you serving under me. Don't you think it's time to rectify that?"

His arms slid around my waist, "Ouch," he laughed, low and slow and warmth spread through me from that tingle in my spine, "I walked right into that, didn't I?" He returned my grin, his hands sliding lower on my hips, "We could get drummed out of the service for fraternization. Of course, we'll probably get the firing squad for mutiny."

He pulled me closer, my hands went to his waist, closing our distance further, my grin faded. I wondered if he could tell how much I needed him just then. "You know what?" He continued, "You're right, about everything. I think about losing you and I can't stand it." He pulled me firmly against him, arms wrapping around my waist, his face inches from mine, "The galaxy will just keep going. Everything, even the Reapers, will come around again. But you and I, WE, are important right now." He tilted his head, "This is what will never happen again, US.

"Shepard, you make me feel . . . human." His mouth was suddenly on mine, my blood roared in my ears as I returned his kiss, our tongues pushing past lips and teeth, assaulting each other's mouths.

Reluctantly, I pulled my lips away. His breathing was harsh, mine was, too. The distance between us still narrow I said, "Bunk here tonight, Kaidan. With me."

He brushed my lips with his, "Is that an order, Commander?"

I inhaled, sharply, pulling him tighter against me, his lips still soft against mine, feeling his arousal through our clothes, "Kaidan, you make me feel like I could take on the universe. And right now? I kinda have to."

I felt him nod, his breath still ragged, "This can't change anything, Shepard. This is a good crew, the finest I've served with. I don't want to mess it up." I only nodded and captured his mouth with mine again, my hands sliding up to entwine in his hair. He deepened our kiss, and started pulling my shirt out of my pants.

Quickly, our clothes ended up in a pile on the floor, we were each reluctant to separate our hungry mouths long enough to pay attention to where our uniforms ended up. I steered him backwards. My hands roamed his bare back, tracing his muscles, running my fingers over that golden skin of his. I lightly scraped my nails up his spine and was rewarded with a masculine growl in that velvet voice. He moved to push me onto the bed, but I was faster and knocked him onto the mattress on his back.

He lay there for a moment, those dark eyes roaming over my naked body. I took the opportunity to do the same. He was gorgeous, all lean lines and golden planes. A fine dusting of dark hair covered his pectorals and led down his chiseled abdominal muscles in a trail to where he lay thick and hard. He scooted up to the head of the bed, the muscles in his legs flexing, making my mouth go dry. I stared at him, my heart pounding.

He cocked an eyebrow at me, folding his hands behind his head, waiting. I grinned and climbed onto the bed, crawling up him, slowly. He looked at me, his eyes darkening as he pulled me toward him, that knowing half-smile teasing me. He wrapped his arms around me, and rolled us over. "I'm in command tonight, Shepard."

I wiped my eyes. I drained the second whiskey and stubbed out my cigarette. Whatever he was actually up to, it was clear: we were over. I walked around to my desk and picked up his picture, looking at it for the last time. I ran my finger along that jaw line; he always seemed to have a five o'clock shadow, no matter how often he shaved. I opened the lowest drawer in my desk and put the picture face down in the bottom.

Loved.

I wound my hair back up into my habitual bun. It was time to go back to work. Work would save me. Work would keep me from drowning.

Loved.