Archive of Our Own ^beta

Shepard was surprised how easy she'd found it to relax. Tucked up on one of the plush couches in Anderson's – well, her – apartment with an old book, she'd wondered how long it would take for her mind to start drifting to other things. The Reapers. How long the Normandy would be in dry dock. When she should start those crew evaluations and did the crew evaluations really matter anyway, with, well, the Reapers and everything? And did she really say 'I should go' the way her clone had?

But no, she hadn't thought about any of those things for at least… ten minutes. She grinned and wriggled her shoulders as she sank farther into the couch.

"Oh, I knew it," she muttered in annoyance as the panel on the front door chirped. She sighed and set her book down, wondering who it was this time. She'd told her crew to come over any time, and a few of them had already done so, but recently, since trying out the combat sim on the Silversun Strip, some of her 'fans' had discovered where she was holed up. She didn't mind talking to them when she was actually at the Armax Arena, but she had to draw the line somewhere.

She stood up, debating whether to just pretend she wasn't in – Glyph had programmed her door entry system to allow her crew to enter when she wasn't there, or when she hadn't activated privacy settings. Everyone else received an automated message saying she wasn't home.

She moved to the screen next to the door and activated it, breathing a sigh of relief when she spotted James in the vestibule. She moved her hand to activate the speaker but paused and watched him for a moment.

He always seemed to be moving. Even now, he was doing what looked like a mini workout of sorts, his shoulders bouncing up and down, his forearms and hands flexing at his sides. If it had been anyone else she'd have said he was expending nervous energy, but she'd fought alongside him many times, and he was anything but nervous in combat.

It was when he wasn't in the thick of things that James Vega didn't seem to quite know what to do with himself. Even when she ventured down to the shuttle bay, he was always bent – stooped – over his work station, one leg jiggling or a hand drumming against the counter. Like he couldn't stay still.

Ah, the shuttle bay. One of her favourite places on the Normandy. She privately named it the Eye Candy Bay, because whenever she entered, there was James on the left and Steve on the right. Two fine looking men. Actually… not quite. Steve was handsome, gorgeous, even, and James… well, James was… interesting looking. But both men were cute in their own way, and that qualified as eye candy to her.

They were also unavailable, which meant that the flirtatious banter she enjoyed with them was safe. Steve was unavailable for obvious reasons, and James was unavailable because… because he was a subordinate and he was a lot younger than her. Actually, he was probably only a couple of years younger, but he acted younger. Sometimes. So that definitely made him unavailable. She nodded to herself, reminding herself of that fact.

"Come on in, James," she invited, and the lieutenant stopped moving for a second as he waited for the door to open.

He stepped through the doorway and looked up, then further up, his eyes finally meeting the high ceiling, and he let out a long whistle.

"Hey, Lola," he greeted, a frown settling over his features as he took in his surroundings. And then he started to move again, his shoulders bouncing ever such a bit. "So, this is your new pad… it's kinda… well."

"You don't seem very impressed," she commented.

"No, it's not that, I just… this isn't what I'm used to, is all," he replied, half-smiling as he finally looked at her.

"So what are you used to?" she asked.

"I grew up next to the Pacific. Wide, open spaces, sun, sand, real air, you know? I mean, this is nice, it's just…" He shrugged.

"Not what you're used to," she finished, gesturing for him to sit down. He never seemed to sit down.

"Nah, I'm good," he said, holding up a hand.

"You want some coffee?" she offered.

"Oh, no. Like I said, I'm good."

"Okay," she mumbled. "So, what brings you here? You wanna go down the strip? Grab some lunch?"

"No, it's okay," he said immediately. "I didn't come here to take up a lot of your time. I, uh, wanted to show you something, get your opinion?"

"Sure," she answered.

He let out a quick breath and made a sound that was a combination of a sigh and a growl before clearing his throat and moving his hands to the hem of his T-shirt. "I just wanted to know what you thought of this," he said, quickly whipping off his top and turning his back on her.

He had a new N7 tattoo and was obviously hoping for her approval. It spanned the width of his back and oh my what a wide back it was. Distracted for a second, she allowed her mind to wander. She'd always imagined – for whatever reason – that James, who was forever working out, would have shiny skin. What a thing to think about! But yes, it would be shiny, with a faint film of sweat, and maybe a little bit spotty.

But it wasn't. It was smooth and matte and, apart from a few small scars, it was pretty flawless. Slightly olive in tone, very warm and healthy-looking and I wonder if my arms would go all the way around that?

"Hey," he said in mock indignation. "You're not checking me out, are you, Commander?"

"Just examining the quality of the work," she replied smoothly. "It looks good, James, and you've earned it. Now the real work starts, huh?"

"Yeah?" he asked with enthusiasm, his shoulders working again. "Good. I mean, yeah. The real work starts now. And I'm in. Cien por ciento."

"Glad to hear it."

He shrugged again and pulled his T-shirt over his head, smoothing it around his hips before turning back to her. "Anyway, that was all I wanted to show you. I'd better head back. Esteban wants my help with the shuttle. I'll let you get on with relaxing, or whatever it was you were doing."

"Thanks for visiting me, James," she said, offering her hand to the brawny marine. He hesitated for a second before shaking her hand.

"You bet." A poorly-hidden delighted grin appeared on his face, which seemed to flush slightly, and he released her hand before giving her a nod and heading for the door. "Hasta la vista, Shepard," he said before his attention was caught by something at the back of the apartment. "You have got to be kidding me!" he exclaimed and took off at speed.

He was going to work out. In her gym.

She glanced at the coffee pot and, feeling a little warm, decided on a cool drink instead, and headed for the fridge.

"Man, this is sweet!" he called out. "You gotta let me work out down here."

She entered the small gymnasium, two soft drinks in her hands. "I've got to?" she teased. "Is that an order, Lieutenant?"

He glanced up from the weight bench, an uncertain look in his eyes. "No, of course not! But you told us all to make ourselves at home here, right?"

"That I did," she answered, placing the two tumblers on a cabinet. "Knock yourself out."

A boyish grin came to his face. "Yeah? Wanna join me?"

She glanced down her body at her open hoodie, and T-shirt, and she shrugged. "I'm not really dressed for a workout."

"Okay, Lola," he chuckled, the fact she wasn't wearing a bra not going unnoticed. "Spot me, then?"

"Sure thing." She walked to the bench and stood at its head, while James lay back and grasped the bar. "So, how much can you lift on a good day?"

"Well," he began, looking up and then immediately looking down again as he viewed two white peaks pushing through Shepard's T-shirt, "My record is 410, but I'd need two spotters for that. These are just baby weights," he boasted with a grin. "You gotta be able to lift 150% of your own body weight to call yourself good."

"How much do you weigh, then?" she asked.

"'Bout 260," he replied nonchalantly.

"Wow," she muttered, wondering what that weight would feel like on top of her.

"How 'bout you, Lola?"

"Now, you should know never to ask a lady how much she weighs," she chided.

He released the bar and sat up, a puckish grin on his face as he studied her, trying to keep his eyes off her chest. She was definitely not wearing a bra. "Yeah, I think I got an idea," he said under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, hands on hips.

"155? Am I right?"

"A hundred and fifty five?" she repeated indignantly. "Are you serious?"

"Sorry, Lola," he said as he stood up. "Didn't mean to insult you. There's one way to know for sure, but… nah. You wouldn't approve." He turned away from her, biting back his smile.

"Stop right there, Lieutenant," she ordered, knowing that James was teasing her, but there was no way she would allow anyone to think she weighed 155 pounds, joking or not. "What's this way to know for sure you were talking about?"

He faced her again, hoping his expression was serious. "Don't worry, Commander. I'm suuuure you don't weigh that much. Anyway, as I said, I'm needed back on the Normandy. Esteban'll be havin' kittens if I don't lend him a hand. You know how he frets."

As he turned to leave, she grabbed his arm but quickly released it as she positioned herself in front of him. "Lieutenant Vega, you will prove that I do not weigh 155 pounds right now."

He tilted his head slightly. "You sure? You don't know what I'm gonna do."

"Right now," she commanded, steel in her voice.

He looked at her for a moment, mischief dancing in his eyes, and she wondered what he intended to do. But whatever it was, she'd allow it. She was not going to be accused of weighing 155 pounds, and she sure as hell wasn't going to blow the chance of Vega putting his hands-

She blinked, mentally shaking herself. "Do it."

"All right, you asked for it."

James bent at the waist and grabbed her around the back and the legs, scooping her up into his arms like she weighed nothing.

"Lieutenant!" she exclaimed, a nervous laugh rushing out of her.

He bounced her slightly in his arms, weighing her up. "More like 135. Sorry, Lola," he said sweetly, looking her in the eyes. "Guess I'm used to seeing you all suited up. Hey, I weigh two of you. Ain't that somethin'?"

"You can… put me down, now," she said slightly breathlessly.

"It's okay, you're pretty light," he teased before noticing that her T-shirt was pulled tight over her breasts, and a single, dark nipple could be hinted at through the material. "Hah, I guess you're right," he spluttered, quickly setting her down. "I should get going," he said, moving to the doorway. "There'll be hell to pay if Esteban doesn't get his daily show, know what I mean?" he added with a wink before making a dash for the front door.

Flustered and confused by James's abrupt exit, Shepard decided against following him but called after him instead. "Okay, uh, see you tonight for the party?"

"You bet," he answered from a distance away.

"Damn it," she mumbled, sinking onto her bed, realising that she was swollen and moist. Did he know? Was there some way he could tell?

She took a deep breath and straightened herself up. "Okay. Tonight. Professional, Shepard. You got it? Professional."

But he could lift her effortlessly, which meant he could probably throw her around and pin her down and push her legs up over his shoulders…

"Damn it!" she hissed as she felt moisture coat her inner walls. "Glyph!" she called, and the drone drifted into her room.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Put privacy on," she ordered. "And get out of here for ten minutes."

"Right away, Commander."

"What the-?" James jabbed the panel next to the front door but all he got was a quiet buzzing sound. A low, negative buzzing sound, like it was saying no to him. He squinted to read the small words on the panel. "Privacy? Huh? How'm I s'posed to get outta here?" He stepped back and scratched his head, his brow wrinkled. He looked back in the direction of the gym and Shepard's bedroom and tried the panel again, to no avail. He really needed to get out of here. The glimpse of Shepard's nipple through her T-shirt had inflamed him, and the physical evidence of his problem was starting to grow apparent. And Lola could walk through at any moment.

"Okay." He closed his eyes and imagined himself in the hot tub with Steve and… who else? Ah, hell, he didn't need anyone else. He pictured his friend moving behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder, the pilot's erection pressing into his buttock. Immediately, James felt the heat leave his loins, and he exhaled.

But he needed to turn around and maybe have Steve try to kiss him or something for James's problem to fully disappear. He did so, a startled exclamation escaping him when Steve was no longer there, replaced by a naked Shepard, her hair dripping wet and her fingers teasing her hard brown nipples.

"You like these, James?" whispered the commander in his mind. "You know, your mouth looks just the right fit. Come on. Don't be shy." She grabbed his hands and placed them over her tits, and James's eyes flew open.

"Shit!" he growled, frantically hammering the panel, blood rushing back into his nether regions. "I'll fucking kill you, Esteban!" he averred, angry about he didn't know what. After a few more futile attempts at letting himself out, he sighed, realising that he'd better find Lola and ask her. But then he still had his problem.

He'd have to approach her obliquely or place himself behind a table or vase of flowers or something, he decided. He'd better not call her in case she came rushing, so he quietly walked in the direction of the gym, too frightened to think of Steve again in case he turned into Shepard and her tits. Her glorious, dark-nippled-

He stopped, mentally berating himself, and then heard a strange noise, almost like a gasp. He went to call out, wondering if anything was wrong, but something stopped him.

That wasn't a gasp. It was a grunt.

He stood still, straining to hear.

And then he heard it again. But this time there was another element to it, like an urgency. Then he heard another. And another. The noises had a rhythm. Was she working out? Or… ? Nah.

He shook his head and resumed his walk towards her bedroom, stopping beside the doorway. He craned his neck, hoping to catch a quick peek of Lola getting hot and sweaty on the bench or overhead bar. Well, he wasn't made of stone, was he? And then he'd walk in and correct her on her technique, maybe flirt a little, and everything would be okay.

Yes, everything would be fine. He- what? What the fuck? Legs. Bent at the knees. Trousers around ankles. One hand on… oh shit. Oh shit shit shit!

He jumped back, fire raging through his centre, but opposite Shepard's bed was a large mirror and James's mouth fell open as his eyes became transfixed on it. Fuck, Lola was…

Madre de Dios!

Unable to blink or move, James's mouth slackened as another moan drifted into his ears, and she circled her clit with two fingers, her other hand moving up to push her T-shirt over her breasts.

Fuck, James said in his mind, his mouth too dry to make a sound, and yeah, thank fuck for that.

"Ohhhh," she moaned, and he watched as she increased the pressure against her clit, her other hand palming a nipple. And then… she released her clit and started to massage her other peak with her wetness. She then popped her finger in her mouth before slowly sucking it and returning it to her red, swollen clit.

James's hand was already in his pants, his other one tightly clutching the doorframe. Shit, he wasn't made of stone, no sir. He'd have to be quick and quiet, because if Lola caught him, he'd be screwed. And not in the good way. A few furtive glances back at the mirror made sure he quickly relieved himself, and he zipped up his pants just as he heard Lola cry out and fall silent.

He stumbled to the front door, almost overcome with relief when he spotted that Glyph had returned. "Where the hell have you been?" he demanded in a harsh whisper. "Never mind. I need out. And don't tell the Commander I was here!"

Glyph tilted on its axis and spun around. "Have you been up to no good, Lieutenant Vega?"

"No, I, ah… I did something while you weren't here. As a surprise for tonight. Don't tell Shepard I was here. Promise me."

"A surprise?" asked Glyph. "A splendid idea. Your secret is safe with me, Lieutenant." The door slid open and James practically sprinted for it, as best he could on his weakened legs. "I look forward to seeing you this evening, Lieutenant," offered the drone as the doors closed.

James leaned heavily against the wall outside, his heart racing and his head swimming. Had he really just jerked off over his Lola… commander? Commander. What if she'd caught him? Man! She'd hate him! And he knew, right at this moment, that that thought was worse than the thought of him being court-martialled or even being made a CAT-6.

"She's not yours, and she never will be. She can't be. Just cancel this shit right now," he scolded himself. "Okay. Tonight," he panted. "I'll arrive with Esteban, and I'll keep him close so I can look at him if I need to. Damn!" He shook his head again, barely able to believe what he'd just done.

At that moment, his omni-tool bleeped and he activated the screen, bringing up the image of his pilot friend.

"Where the hell are you?" Steve nagged, waving a wrench at the screen. "These eezo displacement manifolds won't tighten themselves, you know!"

"Coming," James groaned, inwardly wincing at his choice of words.

The party was already in full swing when James and Steve arrived, and Shepard greeted both men at the door, offering her hand to them.

"James, Steve, thanks for coming," she said as she shook their hands.

"Thanks for the invite," Steve replied, and James quickly scanned her face for any trace of… well, anything. She smiled brightly at him but all James could manage in return was a nod.

And then he noticed what she was wearing. God damnit! Could that dress be any tighter?

"Looking good, Shepard," Steve complimented with a cheeky wink.

"Why, thank you." She looked at both men before folding her arms. "Well, one of us had to make an effort."

They glanced down at their work clothes and Steve chuckled softly. "Be fair, Commander. We came here straight from an overhaul of both shuttles."

"You're supposed to be on shore leave," she said with mock sternness.

Cortez shrugged. "Yeah, yeah. I guess I know how Joker feels. I don't want anyone putting their hands on the Kodiaks except us."

She pointed ahead. "Get your ass in there and have some fun, Lieutenant. That's an order."

"Yes, ma'am!" he answered with a swift salute before taking a few steps inside and looking around.

"James," Shepard said, stopping him in his tracks. "You're unusually quiet. Everything okay?"

"He's been like that all day," Cortez said over his shoulder. "I'm guessing a hot date blew him off."

"Oh? Is that right?" she asked James, her heart sinking just a bit.

"Nuh-uh," he mumbled. "This hardass has had me at it all day," he complained, barely able to manage a smile as he thumbed at Steve.

"If I'd had you hard at it, you'd know about it, my friend," Steve quipped. "But yeah, my ass is pretty firm. Thanks for the compliment."

James huffed and quickly walked inside. "I'm gonna check out the tequila in this joint."

"What's wrong with him?" Shepard quietly asked Steve as they watched James head for the bar.

"I dunno, Shepard. He's been kinda grouchy ever since… well, since he left here, actually. Did you like his tattoo? He hasn't shut up about showing it to you."

"Yeah, I liked it fine," she replied thoughtfully. "He seemed okay when he left." She looked at the pilot mischievously. "You are a workaholic, Cortez. You sure you haven't been cracking the whip a little too hard?"

"Now don't get giving me ideas," he purred with a lopsided smile. "Don't worry. I'll get him to loosen up. Without the whip."

"You know, it's a damn shame," she laughed, gently pushing Cortez further in. "You're wasted on men. Don't forget to enjoy yourself."

The party was a huge success, and as the evening drew to a close, Shepard found the Eye Candy Guys at the bar, where they'd been for most of the night. When she entered, she noticed that James was slumped over the bar, while Cortez – who was trash-talking Joker – was keeping a discreet eye on him.

"Hey, fellas," she announced. "Come in here – we're going to take a group picture. Everybody on the couch."

She noticed Steve give Joker a pleading look, but the Normandy's pilot held his hands up and snorted. "Forget it, Cortez. I can just about haul my own ass into the next room, let alone his." Ignoring Steve's sour expression, Joker slowly made his way past Shepard, who in turn moved to Steve's side.

"What's the problem?" she asked.

"He's too hammered to move," Steve groaned. "He's been hitting the cerveza pretty hard all night. I tried to get him to pace himself, but he made it clear he didn't need me being his damn keeper."

Shepard felt a pang of concern but decided not to draw any more attention to Vega's condition – the last thing she wanted to do was embarrass him.

"Well, we can't have him left out of the picture," she mused. "I haven't called the others yet – give me a hand?" she asked Steve.

"Of course." Steve prodded James hard on the shoulder, and the marine slowly raised his head.

"Wha?" he maundered.

"Shepard, this side," Steve directed, and the pilot and commander both wrapped an arm around James, helping him to stand.

"We're having our picture taken," Shepard said to him with a grunt as they struggled to hold him up. "Let's get all two hundred and sixty pounds of you onto the couch."

"Ha! Betcha can't beat my record," James slurred.

"Oh, what was it? Four hundred and ten pounds?" asked Shepard. "That's pretty impressive."

"Is that what he told you?" Steve snorted.

"Shut the fuck up, Esteban."

With a great effort, Shepard and Steve hauled James onto the couch, propped him up, and gathered the others round.

"I love you guys," Shepard, who was a little tipsy, said to the group. "All of you. Thanks for coming and making this such a special night. Gimme your best smiles. Everyone say 'Normandy'!"

"Normandy!" the group cheered, all except James, who was being held up from both sides by Steve and Shepard.

Once the commander had chatted with her friends, she gravitated over to Steve, who was still sitting next to James.

"Commander, I think he needs to lie down," said Steve.

"I'm way ahead of you," she replied quietly. "Come on. They're starting to clear out. My bed's just through there."

"Where will you sleep?" asked the considerate pilot.

"There's another bed upstairs. Come on."

Finally, they dragged James to her bedroom and threw him on the bed before groaning and clutching their backs.

"Two hundred and sixty pounds?" Cortez questioned. "Yeah. Maybe his head weighs that."

"So, Steve," she began, closing the door. "I thought James would be the life of the party, but all he's done is drink himself into a stupor. And I know he can hold his liquor. What's going on with him?"

At a loss, Steve gave an exaggerated shrug and then both of them smiled as James blearily grabbed a pillow and clutched it tightly to his chest.

"Hey, Lola," he mumbled, and Steve's eyes widened. "You smell real good," James went on, nuzzling the pillow. "Yeah, I knew you'd be nice and soft under that armour." James then proceeded to kiss the pillow with a drunken chuckle.

"Uh… ahaha," Cortez stammered nervously as Shepard gaped in shock at the spectacle.

"Steve," she began slowly, "why don't you go on through to the living area."

"Commander." Steve stepped closer to her and lightly touched her arm. "Please, don't be hard on him. He, uh… well, he's got kind of a thing for you."

"No kidding," she answered as James stroked the pillow's 'hair', a blissful smile on his face.

"It's just the drink talking," Steve explained. "He'd never act on his feelings. Please, Shepard… let him sleep and pretend you never saw anything. In the morning it'll be like nothing happened. You're his CO. He understands how it goes down."

"Go on," she said with a kind smile. "You've taken care of him, and now it's time for you to have a little fun. You think I haven't noticed how you and Kaidan have been looking at each other all night? He's still here. Go talk to him. I'll square things with James. It'll be fine."

"You sure?" Steve asked with a glance at the door.

"Positive. Kaidan's waiting for you," she teased, and Steve took a deep breath before straightening his top and grinning.

"Thanks, Shep," he said, leaning close and giving her a peck on the cheek.

"Hey, save some for Kaidan!" She pointed to the door, and Steve walked over to it.

"You know where I am if you need me," he said before opening the door and leaving, closing it behind him.

Shepard folded her arms and looked down at James. "So… you think my pillow smells good, huh?" she asked, her stomach fluttering as her smile grew wider.

When James awoke, at first he couldn't see anything. His vision was obscured but he didn't feel threatened because, whatever was in his face was soft, and smelled of apples. It didn't even occur to him that there might be anything strange about that. And he sighed, allowing his eyes to flutter closed.

And then the pain started. At first it was a vague, pulsating sensation, which quickly grew into something fierce stabbing right between his eyes. He raised a hand to his face, but stopped when it became entangled in the soft, apple-scented stuff.

"Hair? What the…?" He swatted the offending strands away and pushed up onto an elbow, his mouth falling open as his senses returned to him.

"Holy-!" He clamped a hand over his mouth and held his breath, not wanting to wake her. Shepard, that was. Because she was right in front of him, curled into a foetal positon. And he was spooning her.

And they were on a bed.

Okay, okay, okay, okay, he thought, his eyes darting from left to right. Think! What… did we…?

He blinked several times, breathing in slowly and exhaling through the small 'O' his mouth was shaped into. And then he started to breathe normally because it occurred to him that he looked as though he was in labour.

He lay back down, gently resting his arm on her hip before hastily retracting it. She was still wearing that dress and was barefoot. He was barefoot. Who'd taken his boots off? If they'd… done anything, why were they fully clothed? What the hell was going on?

"Fuck," he said out loud.

"Well, good morning to you, too."

His eyes widened and he held his breath again, his face a frozen mask of terror as she turned towards him and gave him a sleepy smile.

"You okay, James?"

He slowly released his breath and worried his bottom lip with his teeth, his eyes still huge and unblinking. "Uh… yeah, I think so," he managed around a loud gulp, his face inches from hers. "Did we…? Y'know?" he asked nervously.

"Oh, yeah," she purred with a waggle of her eyebrows. "We were at it all night."

"W-we…? Really?"

"Sleeping, James. Relax," she said cheerfully as she pushed into a sitting position, bringing her knees up to her chest, and she laughed at the look of utter relief on James's face. "I'm not that unattractive, am I?" she teased.

"Now you're messin' with me," he said grumpily, hauling himself up and sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to her. "How'd I end up here? With you? I don't remember nothin'."

She stared at his back, the hurt and confusion in his voice registering and, feeling guilty, she held in a sigh. "You got wasted last night," she explained. "Cortez and I brought you in here and I decided one of us should stay with you. I figured you'd prefer me over Cortez."

"You got that right," he replied, still not looking at her. She watched the rise and fall of his shoulders and waited. "But… how'd we get here?" he asked, pointing to the bed.

For a minute she didn't answer as she carefully considered her response. "Well, I was tired and couldn't be bothered to drag myself upstairs. Besides, I didn't want you turning onto your back just in case. So I lay next to you and pulled your arm around me. That way, I'd know if you moved off your belly."

He looked over his shoulder but didn't look directly at her. "What, you think I might have suffocated or something? Was I that far gone?"

"If you'd puked or anything, sure. I was concerned about you," she said with a shrug.

He groaned and leaned forward, placing his head in his hands. "Crap. Sorry."

"It's a shame. You missed a hell of a party."

He uncovered his face and nodded but remained silent for a moment, as did she. Then he quickly pushed himself up and headed for the door. "Guess I'd better get outta here, before anyone, you know, notices."

"James," she said, and he paused at the door. She swung her legs around the edge of the bed and tugged at the hem of her dress so it covered her thighs. "What happened yesterday?" she asked.

"What happened?"

"I know you were looking forward to the party, and I knew you'd put a few away, but I never expected you to get so drunk it took two of us to haul you in here. So, yes. What happened?"

He hung his head, a deep frown carved into his brow. "Shit, Commander," he uttered quietly. "You went to a lot of trouble to throw that party and… I'm sorry. I let you down."

"No, I didn't mean it like that." She rose and stood a couple of feet in front of him. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft. "You know you can come to me if something's troubling you. You told me all about losing your squad and Captain Toni. Whatever it is, it can't be worse than that, can it?"

"No, it's… it's nothing you could help with," he mumbled, his eyes fixed to the floor.

"Why can't you look at me?" she asked. "Did I do something?"

"God, no," he replied, venturing a quick glance at her. Her hair was tousled, her makeup was smudged and her dress was rumpled, but she still looked… wow.

"Wow?" she repeated with a grin.

He stepped back, his eyes wide. Had he just said that? "Uh… nothin'. I-I better go grab some breakfast. You want breakfast?"

He reached for the door handle but stopped as she lightly grabbed his arm, not letting go as he looked back at her.

"James," she began. "You were talking in your sleep."

"Heh," he laughed around a dry mouth. "Sayin' all kinds of crap, no doubt."

"You were talking to me," she elaborated. "Some of the stuff you were saying was…" She shrugged. "Private, you know?"

He froze, his mouth working as his nostrils flared. "Hey, I can't help what I dream about, Lola," he said, feigning cockiness, though the strained timbre of his voice gave him away.

"You were whispering in my ear. Telling me that…" She stepped closer to him. "That you'd waited for this for such a long time."

"What? Waited for what?"

"You tell me," she replied, laying her other hand on his other arm.

"Lola…"

"Something you want to tell me, James?" she asked softly, and was stunned when he pulled away from her, his expression thunderous.

"Damn it, why didn't you just tell me you knew?" He paced back and forth, not seeing her confusion. "Why'd you put me through all that? Why not just come out with it?" he demanded angrily.

"James, I don't-"

"I was locked in, okay?" he explained, his face reddening. "I didn't know how to open the door. I waited for a bit and then went back to your room. What the hell else was I supposed to do? Glyph wasn't there and…"

"Oh, dear God," she breathed, realisation crashing into her.

He blinked, finally seeing that she hadn't known what he was talking about. He watched as she slumped onto the bed, her hands in her lap.

"James, I'm so sorry," she sighed. "Now I understand why you were so off when you arrived at the party."

"But," he mumbled. "That wasn't what you were talking about?"

She looked up at him, their embarrassment reflected in each other's eyes. "No," she said quietly. "I was talking about when you said I was beautiful while you were sleeping."

His gut twisted as he realised how humiliated she must be feeling. "Well, if I said it, I must have meant it," he mumbled, hoping to make her feel better in some way, even if it meant revealing his feelings. "And, hey, don't be sorry… we're only human, right?"

She gave him a wan smile, her hands tightly clasped together, her shoulders slumped. "Now you're messin' with me, aren't you?"

"No," he said solemnly. "I don't say nothin' I don't mean. I've meant every word I've ever said to you. I just… couldn't look you in the eye last night, you know? I felt like I'd done somethin' wrong." He sighed and leaned against the wall next to the door. "Aw, hell. I did do somethin' wrong. I felt… bad about it."

"What did you do?" she asked, once again standing up.

"Come on," he said awkwardly, looking at the floor. "I ain't made of stone, Lola."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Well, I guess that makes us even, then."

He glanced up from the floor, his eyes meeting hers, and to his eternal relief she was smiling. One edge of his mouth upturned slightly and he felt heat suffuse his cheeks.

"You're blushing," she commented in amusement.

"No."

She nodded her head, and he shook his, and they both started to laugh.

"So," she said casually. "How much did you see?"

"What?" he spluttered. "I-"

"How much did you see?" she repeated, her eyes locked with his, and he once again looked down.

"Pretty much everything," he confessed.

"Okay. Then… I guess it won't matter."

He heard shuffling and then the sound of a zipper, and looked up in time to see Shepard's dress sliding off her shoulders, revealing two creamy mounds tipped with brown.

"Jesus, Lola-"

The dress fell to the floor and every fibre of his being screamed at him to look away, but he found he couldn't. "Lola, you're my CO," he protested weakly, fire filling his belly.

She took his hands and he gave no resistance when she gently guided him to the edge of the bed. "We're on shore leave, James. We're back on duty in a couple of hours. That's when I'll be your CO. We both want this. Let's-"

Her words were abruptly cut off as he slammed his lips against hers and then she was being lifted by huge arms. She wrapped her legs around his back, her arms around his neck, and she gasped as they crashed onto the bed, his full weight pressing down on her.

"No more talkin'," he panted, renewing his assault on her lips. "Don't… try to… talk me outta this…"

She threw her head back and laughed, her laughter soon turning into a low moan as he moved to her neck, peppering it with tiny bites and kisses, one hand at the back of her head, the other pushing down one side of her panties. She raised her bottom and felt her inner walls grow warm and moist as her underwear was brought down to her knees and she used her feet to push them all the way off.

"God, Lola," he mumbled against her neck, his free hand traveling along her side, down to her hip and back up, cupping a breast and gently squeezing it, his thumb circling her nipple.

"James-" she reached for the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it up his back, and he drew up slightly, helping her to remove it. He looked down at her face, seeing heat in her eyes as she took in his huge shoulders and chest. "Two hundred and sixty?" she asked huskily.

"Two hundred and sixty," he confirmed before lowering his mouth to her breast and slowly suckling on her hardening nipple.

"Oh," she moaned, arching her back, and she hurriedly moved her hands down to his belt buckle. One of his hands joined hers and before long his pants were around his knees. He began to move from breast to breast and sucked hard on her left nipple, teasing the other between two fingers and she reached down, grabbing his buttocks as she pushed her hips against him and threw her head back in abandon, feeling his heavy dick thud against her thigh. "James," she mewled, "I want you… I want you inside me. Now."

He glanced up and brought himself onto an elbow, giving her a serious look as he felt her legs wrap around his back. "You sure about this?" he rasped.

"James… please," she pleaded, her head falling back onto the pillow and her eyes closing. "Just… please…"

She felt a large hand slip beneath her neck and she was brought up to meet his lips again, his kiss surprisingly gentle this time, and her body trembled with anticipation as he hooked one of her legs with his other arm, his cock brushing against her entrance.

She manoeuvred herself to meet him, and pushed against him, their lips parting momentarily as they both cried out when he entered her.

Slowly, he began to move, and she felt herself being parted as his fingers found her sweet spot. A searing heat rose up inside her and she began to meet his thrusts with her own, each tiny movement sending bolts of desire surging through her. She opened her eyes a crack and found the same blissful smile on James's face she'd seen the night before. He was utterly lost inside her and she clasped his face, bringing him down for another kiss as their movements became frantic and jerky.

"Lola," he grunted, his hot breath causing a fine sheen of sweat to form on her face.

"Jane," she panted.

"Jane," he laughed and their eyes met for a brief second before he drove into her, filling her to the brim, his fingers working her expertly, and she shouted his name, shuddering beneath him, nails digging into his shoulders as she was sent over the edge.

He released her sensitive nub and moved both hands up to her face, his full weight pressing on her pelvis as his final few strokes brought him to climax and he fell onto her, panting and laughing softly. After a few seconds his wits returned to him and he propped himself up on his elbows, allowing her to breathe.

He watched her slowly come round, and when she opened her eyes he was looking at her, his face flushed, and his eyes sparkling with happiness and mischief.

"Wow, Lola," he whispered. "That was…"

"Pretty fucking amazing," she finished, and they smiled at each before James's face fell slightly.

"So… I guess it's back to CO and lieutenant now, huh?"

Her expression also sobered slightly, and she tenderly stroked one of his cheeks. "It's the way it has to be, James."

He nodded, knowing she was right, but found it difficult to hide his bitter disappointment.

"…Although, there's nothing to say there can't be other shore leaves," she went on. "Maybe little ones, here and there, whenever we find the time."

He watched her warily for a moment. "You mean…?"

"Just for us, James."

His face brightened a little, and he leaned down, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

"And maybe, when this business with the Reapers is done, we can take a longer shore leave," she continued. "A much longer one."

"That'd… yeah, that'd be great," he mumbled, shifting his weight slightly and resting his head on her shoulder, releasing a contented sigh.

They spent a few minutes in companionable silence before James looked up, hearing a quiet noise within the apartment. "You think they heard us?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I guess we'll find out when we go out there."

"You up to brazening it out, Commander?"

"I'm game if you are," she replied.

He slowly withdrew from her and kissed her again, offering his hand to her as they both sat up.

"That offer of breakfast still on?" she asked. "I hear you make mean eggs."

"I sure do," he grinned. "Maybe we should take a shower first, though."

"It'd be quicker if we showered together," she suggested with a cheeky smile.

"Don't count on it," he replied, taking her hand and leading her into the shower room. "Shore leave's not over yet."