No, you're not hallucinating. The Sparring Log is back. This time, there's just a point to it beyond Unresolved Sexual Tension. Not my toys, I'm borrowing Bioware's.

Captain's Personal Log: Eagle Nebula, Relic System, Murky Water Orbit: Interpersonal Combat

My heart pounded as I sat up in my bed, gasping for air, my long blonde hair matted with sweat and sticking to my back and neck. For once, it wasn't a nightmare about my shitty childhood on Earth, or Akuze, or the Protheans, or the Reapers, or my death that woke me and sent my heart to pounding. It was a goddamned sex dream about Kaidan Alenko.

I rubbed my eyes and attempted to disentangle myself from my bedding. I'd managed to wrap it around myself several times. I was glad I didn't bother with pajamas; it was bad enough the tank top was twisted up under my armpits. Angrily, I yanked at the blankets and before I got myself completely straightened out, I tumbled out of bed and onto my ass. "Graceful, Meg. Real graceful." I shook my legs to disentangle them and stood up, pulling up my green lace undies. I stumbled up the short steps to the head, cursing as I stubbed my toe. "EDI! Lights! 50%!" I growled.

I finished and splashed water on my face, as cold as I could get it. "EDI, time?" I asked around the towel.

"4:00 AM, Shepard," the disembodied voice replied.

"Dammit," I dropped the towel on the floor, missing the towel rack. It was too late to bother going back to bed, didn't think I could sleep anyway. I needed to do something. That dream really bothered me and I couldn't get it out of my head. Legs entwined on soft cotton sheets, hands roaming, exploring.Our relationship had been more than sex. I did love him, I thought. He just . . . broke my heart with his principles and his convictions. But it was the sex that kept me awake. Or maybe it was the current lack thereof?

Putting on my workout leotard and shoes, I decided I could either shoot something, or go find some other way to work this out. Tongues and lips meeting hungrily.I shook my head, chasing away the memory. HE dumped ME, dammit! And that email didn't fix a damned thing!

Angrily, I left my suite and headed to the gym. It was a large area in the bowels of the ship, meant to give plenty of work out space for a team of human commandos. It was divided into two sections, one with weights and aerobic equipment such as treadmills and ellipticals. The back half was a respectably sized padded room with an observation window for sparring. Or at least, that's what we used it for. Cerberus hadn't really counted on my motley crew of misfits. They'd probably intended it for something tame like aerobics.

I got there and stared at the assortment of practice mechs. There were about a dozen, lined up neatly along the opposite wall of the entrance like a group of toy soldiers. They'd been built to approximate humans and some of the aliens we were expected to be fighting, according to Cerberus. Flipping the switch on one of the larger ones, probably meant to stand in for a krogan, I ordered it to load the program I'd given it a while back. I had a fifth degree black belt in a mixed martial art style that had gotten me through my grief after Akuze; it was the one at which I was best, though I'd studied others. I wrapped the strap of the thin, fingerless gloves designed to prevent split knuckles around my wist as I crossed to the other side of the mat and bowed. The mech did the same before it stepped onto the mat and took up the first position. My anger and frustration took over and I leaped at it.

I had set it for the highest difficulty, but I beat the mech within five minutes, the final punch neatly denting the large gold Cerberus logo on its torso. I threw the arm I'd managed to wrench off over on the pile of the rest of its parts. I still couldn't seem to get used to the upgraded strength Cerberus had given me, and my reflexes were just that much faster. "EDI, prep the next mech. Make me actually work to destroy it, please?"

"Shepard, I would like to remind you, these mechs are expensive and are meant to be reused," EDI's virtual blue head popped up from her console to chide me.

"I don't give a rat's ass. I'd rather take my bad temper out on a mech than on my crew. Or your housing," I'd barely worked up a sweat. "Program the thing with something random. Drunken master maybe, or jiu-jitsu."

"As you wish, Shepard," the AI's tone sounded snotty; maybe I was just projecting my own irritation. The Illusive Man and his games had sent me to bed last night in a foul mood. Dreaming of the man who'd ripped my heart out and stomped on it with both feet and who I still couldn't get out of my head hadn't helped my need to pound the everloving shit out of something, anything, brought about by that son of bitch's manipulative tactics.

"Keep it up, EDI, and I'll download you into a microwave," I grumbled at the shimmering blue globe. "Now, bring it."

Two mechs turned on and lumbered toward me. They didn't stop to bow at the mat. They circled me, as if they were looking for an opening. I'd forgotten to pin my hair up so I blew it up and out of my eyes while watching the machines. That must have been some sort of signal or an opening since they both rushed me and attacked. I ducked, punched, and tripped one. I drew my hand back and punched through the thing's head, a standard tactic when punching solid objects in a martial art, you always aimed for something behind it. Hand on my breast, one between my legs, my fingers in curly, black satin hair, mouths locked together. The visceral memory hit me and broke my tenuous control on my temper. The head was suddenly concave and the machine shorted out in a shower of sparks. A shadow crossed over me and I flipped backward, the soft-soled shoes strapped to my feet landing lightly as I came down in a ready position. The mech charged me, throwing a high punch and feinting with its other fist. I ignored the feint, taking a weak hit on my ribs and blocked the punch aimed for my face. Pushing it away, it charged me again. I jumped and brought my foot up to connect with its jaw, snapping the mechanical head off. The machine collapsed in a shower of sparks.

"That's more like it EDI! You might actually make me break a sweat here!" I took the glove off to examine the skin on my knuckles for blood. The skin hadn't split too badly, good. I replaced the glove, tightening the strap that was beginning to loosen from my sweat.

"Shepard!" I jumped at Garrus' voice behind me. "Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" The turian was staring at the wrecked mechs at my feet. He'd been picking up more human slang on this ship than he had on the first Normandy.

I turned and put my hands on my hips, "You could say that. What are you doing up at this hour?" He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a similar uniform to mine. Both had the ever-present gold logo embroidered over the left pectoral. I was so tired of seeing that obnoxious symbol everywhere. It was odd seeing him out of armor, though, he looked somehow smaller but still intimidating since his natural armoring was more apparent. His leathery plates glinted metallically in the fluorescent lighting.

"I'm always up at this hour. You aren't. Everything all right?" He was looking at me curiously, his head cocked to the side.

"No. Apparently, I'm too strong for a mech, now," I kicked at the remains of the last mech I'd "killed."

"You haven't used them since you were… augmented… have you." It wasn't a question. He still tried to avoid the word "dead." "You realize Cerberus didn't equip the ship with anything other than humans in mind, right?"

"Last I checked I'm still human, Garrus," I told him, crossing my arms under my breasts, trying not to pout. I really felt like pouting. Another physical memory of Kaidan turned my pout into a complete scowl.

He walked until he was closer to me. Without warning, he threw a punch at me, almost faster than my eyes could track. Unthinking, I blocked him, bringing up my hand to catch his fist. I stared at my tiny human hand holding his much larger three-fingered fist and brought my eyes up to meet his then dropped to stare at where his fist was still in mine, his skin rough and hot to the touch. It matched the skin on his neck, more than the plates on his face. I pulled my eyes back up to meet his. "Could you have done that before?" He asked, his eyes narrowing.

"You didn't pull that, did you." It wasn't a question. I knew he hadn't.

"No, I didn't. If you missed, I figured you'd shoot me later, or something," his mandibles flared in amusement. "I've been sparring with Grunt and Thane, usually. Sometimes Samara, when she's not meditating."

I released his fist and crossed my arms again, turning away. What the hell had those butchers done to me? I'd known I was stronger and marginally faster than before, but this? I could either whine about not being human or I could suck it up and kick this turian's ass. I grinned at him over my shoulder. "You want to add me to that list?"

It was Garrus's turn to cross his arms at me, "I don't know. You might be tough, Shepard, but you're rather breakable. Especially against Grunt."

"I wasn't proposing taking on Grunt, Garrus. But I can take you."

He chuffed out a breath, his eyes narrowing at me again, "You and what army, Shepard?"

I narrowed my eyes back at him, "I don't need one. Two hits: me hitting you, you hitting the floor, Vakarian. Besides, I only know lethal ways to take out a turian. I'll have to actually think about how not to kill you."

He snorted and pulled on gloves. I assumed it was to keep his talons from harming me. Was it because I was a fragile human, or did he grant Thane and Samara the same courtesy? He then dropped into an aggressive stance. "Bring it, Shepard," he said me, inadvertently echoing my words to EDI earlier.

"Uh, one rule: no headshots. We both have work to do today," I pointed out. The blue mass effect field flared up around me in a corona of power and I shoved the mech parts over to a corner out of the way.

Garrus watched me move the parts with my mind, "One more rule: no biotics."

I feigned shock, "Garrus! I'd never use biotics on you!"

The turian lunged at me, knocking me over. I hit the mat and he was on top of me, I could feel the plates on his thighs and shins through our clothes, hard against my skin. His hands were on either side of my head, his face close to mine. He smelled like gun oil, metal, leather and caramel; scents that were growing more and more familiar to me. "Somehow, I think you're lying, Shepard."

I arched my back, grabbed his collar and flipped him, somersaulting over until I was on top. I leaned over him as he'd done to me, my hair hanging down over my shoulder and into his face. "I never lie." Before I could grab his hands, he picked me up by the waist, his hands rough and strong, and threw me into the padded wall. I bounced off and landed on my feet and one hand, the other drawn up at my hip, head lifted to keep my eyes on him.

He twisted impossibly, for a human at least, and was on his feet again as well. We circled each other at arm's length, each waiting for an opening in the others' guard. Our gazes locked. I wasn't sure what I saw, but in a fight, you're not supposed to think anyway. He must have seen me decide to attack. I kicked upwards toward his head in a feint and he caught my foot and threw me. "I thought you said no head shots!" he grated out.

I laughed breathlessly, "I didn't say I wouldn't fake one." I went with the momentum of his throw and turned it into a flip, bringing my other foot up to connect with his chest, aiming for the space between the plating on his pectorals and hitting it hard before I landed on my feet again. I thought I was out of reach of his arms, but at the last second I had to throw myself backward and my arms up to duck a punch. I kicked out my legs to sweep his feet from under him and he jumped backward, avoiding me. We circled each other again. I saw a shift in his step and realized he was leaving a blind spot to his right. It was because of the bandages and the fact that he still couldn't move his neck very well, but would he thank me for taking it easy on him now and letting a merc show him his blind spot the hard way later? I feinted again with a kick to his shoulder, and brought my fist up on his right side, not aiming for the bandages, I didn't want to re-injure him, but he needed to know. I aimed for his small nose but before I could land the punch, I was airborne with what felt like steel rods under my back and legs and then I hit the padded wall hard enough to get the wind knocked out of me.

"You son of a bitch," I told him. He'd pinned me against the mat, one arm across the back of my shoulders, immobilizing me, his legs between mine, keeping me off balance. His other hand pinned one of mine to the wall above my head. I recognized the stance; it was a standard maneuver for cops trying to immobilize criminals. I'd been on the receiving end of this before. Of course, the cop wasn't usually laughing in my ear.

"I can't believe you fell for that." His face was close to mine where it was pinned against the wall.

I glared at him as best I could out of the corner of my eye. "You left a giant gaping blind spot. Of course I'm going to go for it."

I felt his mandible stretch in a grin, "I can't believe I tricked you, Shepard."

I shoved against the wall with my free hand. It probably wouldn't have worked if I hadn't been augmented, but it was enough leverage to shove him off balance. I spun and knocked his legs out from under him, but he brought me down with him. He rolled until he had me pinned under him again. "You cheat," I told him.

"Against you? Damned straight." He grinned down at me, his cheekplates flaring wide. "Did we happen to put any money down? Any bet at all?"

"No," I grunted.

"Damn. Best two out of three?"

"Who determines the winner?" I demanded. I shoved at him, it was like trying to move a wall.

He pushed off me and stood up. He reached down a hand to help me up and I yanked on his arm hard enough to pull him back down. I used his momentum to continue up and over until I had him pinned. I straddled his hips, my feet over his thighs and my hands pinning his next to his head. We stared at each other for a moment, our eyes locked, both of us breathing heavy. Sweat trickled down my back and between my breasts. Rivulets of his own sweat wandered down his neck.

"I think I win," I panted. I stood up, uncomfortable. As I turned, I realized a crowd was gathering outside the observation window. And then, a few hundred pounds of turian hit me in the stomach, his shoulder ridge impacting just below my sternum, knocking the air out of my lungs. I gulped for air as he pulled himself off me, still kneeling on either side of my legs.

"Shepard," his eyes narrowed in concern. "Are you all right?"

I twisted over on my side to cough and jumpstart my lungs. My voice hoarse, my breath rasped in my throat, "Yeah. And you still cheat." I gestured to the observation window. A handful of the morning shift, probably starting their day with a workout before their duties began had gathered outside the observation window.

He glanced in that direction, "Wonder if they're betting on us?"

I sat up to lean against the wall. "Whoever bet on you just won." I coughed again.

"What did I do? Do I need to take you to medbay?" His mandibles drooped in concern as he leaned over me.

I laughed then coughed again, "You knocked the air out of me. But like I said, it was my own fault."

He looked alarmed, "I strangled you?"

I reached over and put my hand on his stomach, below the plated ridges over his rib cage. I pushed on what felt like softer skin there, trying to illustrate a diaphragm. "Humans have a muscle, here." I pushed.

He inhaled sharply and looked down at my hand. He closed his eyes for a moment then pulled it away. Shaking his head, "Don't do that."

"Uh, ok. You going to tell me why?"

"No," he told me, flatly, his cheekplates drawn in against his mouth, tightly, the way they did when I pissed him off.

"Fine. Give me your hand," I grabbed his hand and sat up straighter, my legs crossed. I put his hand on my stomach and exaggerated my breathing. He was either shocked that I was showing him this, or that I put his hand on me, I wasn't sure which. "That's a diaphragm, it helps us breathe. I'd have preferred to take your shoulder on my breast bone," I gestured. "And I would have positioned myself to protect my diaphragm if I hadn't gotten distracted. And then we wouldn't be having this conversation where I'm telling you how to disable an unarmored human in one punch."

He laughed, "I remember that now. That's one of the non-lethal ways we were allowed to take down especially difficult suspects. Asari have them, too, I think." He grinned wider, "I promise to only use my knowledge for good." He glanced down at his hand and realized it was still splayed across my stomach. He yanked it away as if I'd suddenly scalded him.

His action confused me, but I needed to get a shower and get to work. I stood up. "Thank you for sparring with me. It helped." I walked to the edge of the mat and bowed to the turian, formally. He hastily scrambled to his feet and inclined his head at me. Strangely, despite losing to him, I felt better.

Thane brushed past me, his usual scent of dry, dusty places and warmth wafting after him. "Commander, good morning."

I nodded at him before turning to the Cerberus crew, "All right, back to work, people! Show's over! Vakarian had better get a cut of those winnings!" My crew scattered, and I could hear Donnelly's burr demanding someone pay up.

"Are you all right?" I heard Thane ask Garrus.

"She – yes. I'm all right," his voice sounded different, though. I turned back to ask if he was fine but didn't get any further when he continued, "She put my hand on her stomach."

Thane exhaled sharply, "I take it that means something?"

Garrus' voice was quiet. "It means she trusts me."