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"You want me to go out with him? That muscle-bound mass of meat?"

Garrus hesitated before answering, "Yes. Don't kill me."

"Can I kill him?" Jack looked Vega up and down from across the room. "That might be fun."

"I really don't think Shepard would appreciate that."

"Shepard likes this guy? You want me to snake him out from under Shepard's nose? You're crazy!"

"What? No! I didn't mean it like that," Garrus protested. "This was her idea."

"What, that I should take him out for a test drive? I mean, I could. Looks like you could steer him around the curves pretty precisely," Jack said speculatively, eyeing Vega's muscles.

"No, getting Vega a date," Garrus explained. "That's all."

"Wait, so I have to date, but I can't touch?"

"Er, um, I think that's up to you. And him, of course." Garrus wondered if maybe this had been a bad idea. On paper, Vega and Jack had seemed like a pretty good combination—at least they could both talk about exercise.

"Got it. Tell him to meet me in Purgatory at … 2200. Gives me time to get my kids settled."

Garrus watched her go, marveling at the change in her. Those kids must be pretty special, to have turned Jack from the only partially sane enraged maniac who wanted to burn down the galaxy to this calm, poised, determined woman who wanted to protect the children in her care. Maybe he'd win the bet after all—Vega and Jack might well hit it off.

Vega straightened his t-shirt nervously, looking around the bar for the admittedly extremely hot biotic they'd brought back from Grissom Academy. The group behind this estupida bet had decided his usual clothes were fine for this date, and he was grateful for that—he was nervous enough without feeling all dressed up like a monkey's uncle.

Ah. There she was. He smiled at Jack across a crush of people on the dance floor, and she motioned to him to come join her. Or she hadn't seen him at all and was just waving her arms while dancing. It was hard to tell which.

James obediently made his way through the dancers. When he got near Jack, she launched herself at him, clinging to him, and whispered in his ear, "Well, stud? Let's see your moves."

Was she suggesting that he, James Vega, didn't have moves? Well, he'd show her.

Within five minutes, a circle had formed on the dance floor around the two of them, and James was having the time of his life. Jack matched him move for move, and he her, like they were born to dance together.

Grudgingly, he had to admit that maybe his shipmates were right—maybe it had been about time to get out here on the dating market. This was kind of fun.

They retired to the bar for a round of drinks. "You're not bad, Vega. Where'd you learn to dance like that?"

"Growing up, we had all these parties, all the family coming over. We used to dance half the night away, until people passed out on the floor, falling asleep wherever they happened to be."

She laughed. "You learned that from your family?"

Too late, it occurred to him he should have made up something sexy. He blushed and hung his head.

Jack slapped him on the back. "I'm just fucking with you. It's cute."

"Yeah?" Vega looked up. Over Jack's shoulder, he saw a surprising sight—Gina Shepard standing on the edge of the dance floor, those amber eyes scanning the crowd. "What's Shepard doing here?"

"She's not here to dance, that's for sure." Jack laughed uproariously, downing another shot. "You ever see Shepard dance?"

Vega imagined it for a moment, but the mental image was a bit too intoxicating. All those curves, in motion? He swallowed hard.

"Yeah, what you're thinking? Not." Jack bit her lower lip and started awkwardly gyrating her hips and waving her arms. "That's what it looks like."

"No way."

"Way."

It was hard to picture Gina Shepard, always poised and in charge of any situation, looking that ridiculous.

Jack grinned at him. "Ask anyone. Garrus does a killer imitation."

James looked past her, but Shepard was gone. He said as much to Jack, who shook her head.

"Someday she's going to spontaneously combust under the weight of all that duty. You guys keeping her diverted on the Normandy? Making sure she takes care of herself?"

"We try."

"She doesn't make it easy," Jack agreed. She took another shot. "So, look, hot stuff, you want to get out of here, do a little private dancing?"

He did. Of course he did. Jack was damned hot, and he could only imagine what she'd be like in the sack. But it had been a long time … and foolish though it might sound, Vega wanted to be in love with the next woman he took to bed. Oddly, he thought of Shepard. Admittedly, she was all woman, but she was also … Shepard. Far above the aspirations of some dumb grunt down on the ground.

Smiling at Jack, he said, "Tempting, but … not tonight. I wouldn't say no to another spin on the dance floor, though."

"Hell, yeah. Let's go!" She led him out and they lost themselves in the pounding beat.

The next morning he was in the galley whipping up his abuela's surefire hangover cure when Gina Shepard came to stand next to him, hitching a hip on the counter.

"So, Jack, huh?"

"Yeah. She's a loco one, huh?"

Shepard raised her eyebrows. "Crazier than I am?"

"Come on, Lola. No one's crazier than you."

That earned him the slow smile again, like honey being poured over his skin. "Good answer."

And she was gone, leaving him there with a pan full of burning eggs in his hand and thoughts in his head that he really shouldn't be having.