The driver's seat squeaked softly on an exaggerated flop of tired limbs. Casting a timid glow were the multiple control consoles of the MAKO; its pale blue light made her look sickly, fragile, and all the more irritated with her surroundings.

"Hello, Commander Shepard. Will you be testing weapon diagnostics today?" The polite chirp of the MAKO VI suddenly greeted her.

"Shh! No... just... be quiet." She fumbled with a clove flavored cigar (because fuck those stupid e-vaporizers, she wanted something real) and a slender torch-light used for minimal welding repairs. It was one of those times she craved nicotine more than anything; back on Earth, she'd been a heavy smoker on the streets. It was tough kicking the habit when she joined the Alliance, though. Commanding officers and platoon leaders were quick to reprimand her for the occasional sneak-n-smoke after a day's worth of training; splurging now and then wasn't a sin, right? How long had it been since she last partook, anyway? Too long. After a moment of regaining her thoughts, Shepard lit the cigar with a muffled, fiery roar, inhaled deeply and...

"Smoking is prohibited on any Alliance craft; citing special safety regulations-"

She gave a loud groan. "Give me a break..."

"-tobacco is an unsafe air inhalant that can damage oxygen filters and electronic devices. It is also considered harmful on the human body. Please discard-"

Second nature, her balled up fist and jerking motion; she slammed it on the pop-up screen that initiated manual systems. The VI's voice went muted.

"Shut. Up."

Acrid smoke drifted above her in hazy, yet whimsical trails; flavorful exhales brought out the smell of burning spice. In the shadows of the MAKO's interior, Shepard's droopy cigar hung loosely between her lips; casual sips of the tobacco lit its orange end, the ember itself resembled a lazy eye within the silhouette of her hunched frame. Within seconds, her body gave in to the nicotine high, a dragging sensation that made her feel like she was melding with the polyester cushion of her chair. Smoke blurred most of her face, stung the eyes, but did its job of numbing senses. If only it worked on the buzzing that prickled her skull...

It was easy to say she was alone when in fact it was much easier to be alone.

The quiet hum of the engines brought on a lulling effect. She reclined back in her seat, one boot propped up on the driving console with arms tucked lazily behind her head. Although her posture hinted at lax demeanor, an internal struggle stitched a jagged frown across her cinched mouth.

Half the crew stayed behind on the Citadel for a much needed shore leave. Shepard saw no reason to deny them, even with the Normandy in working order.

Alenko left with them, claiming that he wanted to contact family and speak with Councilor Anderson (likely about the death of Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams).

Wrex requested his pay before abruptly demanding he be dropped off on Tuchunka (something about restarting 'leadership', she wished him luck – his planet was a hell hole).

Garrus left early on for Specter training at the Citadel (drunken nature prevented her from remembering the night before his leave, and for some reason, she wasn't at peace with his decision).

Liara promised to stay "until the end" of the Reapers; the asari's persistent nature was admirable, even if it perplexed her to the point of a painful headache (all asari gave her a headache, to be honest).

Now they were on their way to the quarian Flotilla so Tali could complete her Pilgrimage (there might be implications to giving her that geth module containing significant history on the AI, but to hell with politics).

Shepard adjusted quickly to absence, she always did in physical situations- but emotional?

She'd miss them, one in particular. He was no longer posted outside the MAKO running weapons diagnostics on its systems, or getting into "arguments" with Wrex- god damn that turian.

Reasoning with herself brought on complexities of the brain; she failed at understanding her own motives for that matter. In times like this, maybe it was better to keep quiet – if she risked stepping outside her bubble of solitude, the inferences may very well come back to haunt her. After all, she figured inter-species dating, although looked down upon if it didn't involve an asari, was a subject most turians (or humans) wouldn't touch. Who has time for that shit, anyway? Still, that rueful frown sank deeper, much like the growing pit in her stomach.

Garrus was out where he wanted to be, she'd feign joy for him instead of mourning a 'love that could never be.' Maybe it wasn't even love. Admiration and infatuation sometimes wore the same badge. Besides, how the hell would they even have sex? Turian anatomy had been covered during N-training, but did anyone ever pay attention to those classes?

Shepard reached the point of disregarding that particular thought; stow it away, let it gather dust, maybe it'd eventually rot in the depths of her whacked out brain. The Cipher played a number on her cognitive abilities – they came in sporadic bursts now, making her far more unpredictable than before.

Well, what's done is done. If she convinced herself this, maybe it'd be true. There were bigger things to worry about now than paramour garbage. Shepard plucked the cigar from her mouth, tapped its ash on in an empty coffee cup (she disappeared to the MAKO this morning after finishing up the rest of her repair logs) and thought about a quick snooze-

"Oh, kee'lah! A fire?" A high-pitched voice squeaked outside the MAKO's door. Why did I leave it open?

The bubbly quarian had been taught at a very young age to notice electrical fires no matter how small; they were prominent on bigger ships due to old equipment they purchased for their Fleet – like gypsies, they made use of what they could- and a potential fire was something that'd jeopardize everyone. No different on the Normandy, the little spits of smoke that dribbled out of the MAKO generated a wave of worry and anger.

"Damn him, damn him! That bosh'tet! I told him to replace that cooling unit!" Tali glowered as she yanked up the closest extinguisher; of course she was referring to Garrus, who, whether he admitted it or not (likely not) took too many short cuts for her liking. He was a decent technician, but when under pressure and time, he slipped by certain protocols – the cooling unit probably overheated again.

Before Shepard could put out her cigar and … well, hide, Tali clomped up the stairs, burst in dramatically, and began spraying the canister wildly. A foamy blue liquid sputtered from the extinguisher's nozzle, dousing just about everything in its path. Shepard included.

"Wait a second- holy shit! Tali! Stop, it's me! The hell are you doing?" Cold foam splattered across her face and knocked the cigar right out of her mouth with a tiny ember explosion.

"Sh—Shepard? Oh... oh, no! I didn't mean- ah... I thought... … a fire, ah..." Tali released the lever slowly, and even though her face sat behind a purple mask, Shepard could visibly tell those glowing eyes were trying to escape her skull.

"I'm sorry. I-I had no idea you were in here- … are you alright?"

"Just... lower the damn thing. I'm … fine. Cold, but fine." Shepard gurgled lowly while wiping away the drippy substance with an oily rag; it'd eventually harden and turn into a residual powder- but holy fuck did it buuuurn... ruined her god damn high, too.

"Ah- ahm... good! I'll just... set this … here." She fumbled with the red canister to the floor before nervously wringing out her gloved hands. "What was burning? I was walking by and saw smoke. Putting it out was my first reaction..." Tali had a sneaking suspicion she was interrupting something, but curious nature made her probe for answers. Admittedly, it was somewhat amusing to watch the Commander rub vigorously at her face while muttering low curses. "I mean... well, my suit sensors detect traces of a foreign chemical in the air. Now that I'm closer, I don't think it's a cooling unit close to frying up."

Shepard hesitated; lips pursed unnaturally – fingers groped at the cemented textures of bright red hair as they took on the form of miniature spikes. In reality, the stuff wasn't exactly caustic, but the cold compression left red blotches all across her face and neck. The idea of shooing her quarian friend off bumbled around clumsily-

"I was smoking." Her answer was wrung free of guilt, although trapped emotion wedged itself between gritted teeth and an icy expression. Tali's unresponsive blink went noted as confusion. "-tobacco. It's a stimulant for the nervous system. Kinda helps... relax ya. Pretty addictive, though."

"Aaah... well, that makes sense. Sort of. Why … smoke it if it's addictive? Are there negative side effects?" Tali's naivety was endearing, if not painfully so...

Shepard twisted out a dark grin. "Yeah..." Cancer. "But we won't get into that. Aside from fire chasing, you need somethin'?" As she mumbled, clammy hands dipped down past her knees in search of the fallen cigar. It cost her quite a credit on the Citadel, god damn batarian bum overpriced everything when it came to humans.

"No... not really." Her oddly long fingers curled together; purple vision fluctuated at the foamy mess that, within minutes, transformed into a powdery white dust. No damage to the MAKO's newly polished insides, at least.

"Are you... sure you're alright? You seem distracted." She'd not speak what was actually on her mind; the Commander was an enigma, and it certainly changed her opinion on humans overall. Not all were like her, she knew that, but she wasn't used to this state of independence, let alone chosen solitude. When she had a problem, she relied on family the most. Shepard had... no one, really.

The human's pause noted unmistakable confusion; shoulders stooped again while her spine hardened. Her wet cigar fell under her foot, and after retrieving it, Shepard lingered with her back to the quarian. Did she owe her any answers? Tali proved to be loyal and an amazing hacker, but sharing her personal ongoings wasn't something she did. With anyone.

"I uh- I'm fine. Just came in here to get away. People know where my cabin is, so I can't hide there..."

"Why would you hide?"

Another awkward pause; she bit the side of her tongue to keep its razor edge at bay.

"Does it really matter?"

"Well, yes. Why else would I ask?"

Touche, Tali.

She glanced at the quarian's purple-lit helmet; a gentle glow, even if her eyes were incredibly bizarre. What made them illuminate?

"Sometimes you gotta hide, ya know? From... others. From yourself. Even if it's just for awhile-"

"That doesn't make sense, Commander. Is it truly possible to hide from yourself?"

God damnit. She didn't want a lecture. Mouth transfixed into a solid frown as her brows dipped in frustration. Tali, being the curious, innocent alien that she was (or so she portrayed herself as) didn't realize this was a cue for her to shut her mouth.

"-look. It's hard to explain. In here, you can escape-"

"From your emotions?"

Shepard hadn't anticipated that, at all. Her mouth fell agape, lower lip twitched at the corner. It can't be that obvious.

"I didn't say that."

"No. I did."

"... Right. But that isn't why I'm hiding."

"If I may be so bold," hands neatly folded across her stomach; Tali shifted confidently. "-you are hiding from 'yourself' because you miss him. Is that normal for humans? Among my people, we talk our problems and even our feelings out, in groups or individually. If we don't, it leads to a lot of troubles that could have been easily corrected in the beginning."

Him? The driver's seat creaked again; Shepard slowly pivoted in it to face the technician – shoulders drooped, but her posture was caught beneath fleeting palms that dug just above her knees.

"Tali..."

"Commander... it's alright. Your... 'secret' is safe with me. You know though, you almost died on the Citadel. We all thought you- were..." Hesitance, she struggled back the memory of their turian comrade's sunken defeat. That wasn't to say he didn't try looking for her, but they assumed the worst when pieces of Sovereign came crashing in. His behavior was the final clue that Tali needed; a primitive yearning, however odd their union would be, a human and a turian...

"A-aha..." Nervous chuckling, Shepard snapped her spine and leaned back; clearly acting oblivious, Tali thought (she knew that much from observing Engineer Pressly). She wanted to keep her emotions in check, and for reasons she couldn't quite understand besides embarrassment. There was nothing … wrong with it, judgment was reserved. "You're pullin' my leg..."

"No, I'm not. My hands are right here." Tali wiggled all six digits at the human, which somehow made her glare rigidly. Well... she wasn't pulling any legs or arms here, what was the big deal?

"I don't want to talk about it, alright?"

Convoluted silence again.

"Alright, I understand." Did she really? "All I want to say is that I consider you a friend, Shepard. You have helped me in so many ways on this mission... I will never forget it, or your leadership. I don't think he will, either." With that, she carefully ducked beneath a protruding monitor.

Shepard said nothing- she couldn't. Eyes tracked her timid movement; the strange confrontation was rather out of character for her, there had to be a cause. Was it because she was leaving? Had Garrus said something to her? That little quarian wiped away any smug retort she was capable of producing. Completely powerless. If it was obvious by Tali-

"-but... Commander," she stopped abruptly at the door and turned back.

"What, Tali?" Pathetic; she garbled lowly.

"My advice, should you want it, is to not wait around next time. … Assuming there is a next time. You might be surprised."

The hell does that mean? And right as she went to inquiry further, the quarian was gone in a bouncy hop that descended past the MAKO's steps. Shepard, alone again, stewed in her own thoughts – a poisonous concoction when it didn't include gunfire. A wet plop broke the silence; she crumpled the cigar and dropped it in that dented coffee cup.

"Commander! You gonna stare at that door all day?"

"Huh?

Mess Sergeant Gardner reeled her back in over a steaming pot of... something (smelled like boiled shoelaces). Two years had slipped by through an unconscious eye; she died, was resurrected and now under the thumb of Cerberus. What else has changed?

Not how she felt, apparently.

"Uh... sorry, I was uh-" Her goal had been simple; talk to Garrus about their last mission (she had a bad feeling about recruiting a psychotic biotic) and maybe grab a meal afterward. Shepard wasn't sure what possessed her to stop at the Battery's closed doors, but apparently she did, and the willful brain slipped deep within the recessions of her mind. What triggered it, she couldn't say, but Tali had been right. There was a next time-

"Daydreamin' is what it looks like. How 'bout you try sum'o'my famous salarian meatloaf. Aw, don't gimme that look! It ain't real salarian..."

"No... no thanks." Her stomach lurched in her throat. "I uh... gotta talk to Vakarian." It was now or never. Will you regret this?

"Bah!"

Her steps were hurried, but they almost faltered when the automatic doors slid open. There he was, calibrating the Thanix cannons no doubt. Did he ever leave the dull glow and humming of engines?

"Shepard, need me for something?" He didn't even bother to turn and greet her, cocky bastard, although it did give her the impression he was expecting her. Who else paid him daily visits?

"... Yes. As a matter of fact, I do, Garrus."

**That's it, so far! Thanks for all the reviews and reads, guys :) If you have a scene idea involving the MAKO, shoot it my way, wouldn't mind a few more chapters for this story, if possible.**