The thing about waiting for a good thing, is it is absolutely agonizing, more so when there is the sour reminder of a mishap barely recovered still lingering, like the bitterness of a pill long since swallowed.

EDI's scans, and, Shepard suspected, Mordin's parent-to-be instincts indicated it wouldn't be more than a day or two before they had a little salarian lassie on their hands. And thus began their current vigil.

As the hours crawled by, Mordin was quiet, monitoring progress, checking stats, the like. Shepard respected his silence. The professor had mentioned a few times he was sure she could step out and answer someone if she needed to, but she'd merely shaken her head, insisting she would wait with him. He was jumpier than usual, as he had been before setting down on Tuchanka, and she could tell - he was anxious.

"Stats normal," he reported for the eighth time, omni-tool flickering out of sight. He cleared his throat, now having nothing else to do other than gaze at the little sphere, wrapped snugly in the incubator.

"Well that's good." Shepard leaned against the exam table. "How are you holding up?"

Mordin looked at her, and she saw a rare nervousness in his face. "Strange. Usually delighted when presented with challenge…not that this isn't a good thing…" He inhaled deeply, gazed back at his little egg, swallowing. "Apprehensive. Moment of birth crucial. Photographic memory. Loyalty based on first being in sight. Forms a bond for the remainder of life."

"That's 'imprinting'?"

"Correct." He sat back against his desk, and she joined him, her hand on his knee.

"But the parents aren't present?"

"No. Dalatrass of both families are always there for birth of females. Ensures loyalty to families, continues dynasty. Most of species male, very strictly regulated…best if loyalty is not solely with me. Don't have much time left."

"Don't say -"

"Being realistic, Shepard. Genetic implants go only so far."

Her hand tightened on his knee involuntarily. He started at the squeeze, put a hand on her arm.

"Sorry…" Shepard cleared her throat, blinked a few times. "Well…what Do you want someone else from the ship in here with you? Like Miranda?"

Mordin sniffed and pulled a face. "Unsure if Cerberus loyalty would benefit in the long-term."

"Understandable." She thought a moment. "Do you want to keep it secret? I think Garrus let it slip to a few people. But no one knows she's alive."

Mordin's fingers twitched at the pronoun change. "No. No shame. Secrecy indicates shame in this situation. Just want everything to go right. Want…" He paused. "Want best possible start for her."

"Well, what about Garrus? Preserving that salarian-turian alliance?"

Mordin shook his head. "No. Don't want to be alone, but inviting crew members seems more hinderance than help." He looked conflicted. "Must confess, never witnessed hatching process of own race before."

"Never? But you're a doctor!"

"Sacred ritual, imprinting," Mordin replied. "Solemn. Never allowed to record process. Effects on memory and perception of offspring could be dramatic. Never know unless tried. Never has been." He looked around the lab - Shepard thought he looked a little helpless. "Have read about it, yes. Numerous times over, part of studying physiology, have to understand reproduction. Risk of contamination low. Still…atmosphere not ideal. Harsh. Bright. Could harm retinas and cause residual shock due to plague remnants. To use human phrase, not out of the woods yet."

"She's obviously a tough little sparkplug, though." Shepard gazed at him, his hands wringing slightly, his face still calm and collected but colored with that worry that refused to leave. Gently, she slipped her arm into the crook of his and laid her head on his shoulder. "It'll be fine, Mordin. She'll be fine."

Usually, he would have made a comment on the actual odds, but he didn't. Instead, his arm tightened a bit, pulling her closer. "Would like you here," he murmured.

Shepard didn't want to say she was expecting he'd say that - she'd just hoped he would.

She knew salarians needed little sleep - such a high metabolism kept them running on one hour nightly while she cracked in a good eight when she was lucky. She was tired, but she couldn't just leave him there. He hadn't slept in almost three days, and it was starting to show. His eyes were glazed, they didn't look normal, mouth a thin line, shoulders slumped slightly with tiredness.

Shepard rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. He glanced at her. "Should sleep," he said quietly. "Being here not your top priority as Commander."

"I'm the Commander. My top priority is my business." Shepard poked him in the side with a forgiving smile. Mordin returned it, patted her hand, then gestured to the cot on the other side of the room.

"Feel free to use. Comfortable enough."

Shepard didn't let go of his hand. She ran her fingers over his wrist turned his hand over to smooth her thumb over his palm. He looked at her, knew what she was insinuating, but shook his head.

"Mordin, you're tired."

"Can't leave her, Shepard. Can manage myself."

Shepard sighed, didn't push it. Mordin nudged her knee with his, though, indicating again that she should rest. "Should get your rest. Need you in top condition." He inclined his head. "Doctor's orders," he said, and there was affection in his face that, in spite of all her apprehensions, warmed Shepard to the core of her belly.

She gave him another long, pleading look, but then nodded and got up. She couldn't see with her back turned, but Mordin's smile had faltered as he gazed at her - she felt it, though, felt his energy drop, felt his confusion and fear and new, dare she say it, "maternal" nature kicking in to think the worst and forget to hope for the best.

She lay down and pulled the thin blanket over her, curling up on her side to face the wall. She hadn't realized just how tired she was. Just a catnap, she told herself. So he isn't stuck all alone. Not that he couldn't handle himself…

She drifted off restlessly, moving about, shivering every now and then. Mordin's body temperature ran hotter - it meant the lab ran colder than the rest of the ship, and the blanket wasn't nearly as warm as she'd hoped. She drew her knees closer in towards her body with a sigh, trying not to pay attention to the deadening silence save for Mordin's gentle shifting every now and then, tried not to feel intruding on what should be his rest.

Mordin shook his head slightly, eyes itching with tiredness. His vision was blurring, a sign of fatigue, but he pressed through it. He'd been under worse pressure.

"Professor Solus…" The blue hologram had popped up at the console by his desk, quieter as not to wake Shepard. "My monitors are sufficient to detect any possible movement that would indicate preparation to hatch. I would suggest sleep."

"Appreciate advice, EDI. Will stay here, regardless."

"Professor, I must inform you that you are risking complications due to fatigue. Your own health matters. I will care for her for now."

Mordin was silent.

"I assure you, it is in her best interest."

Half-asleep, Shepard felt the cot dip behind her, tentative at first, as though trying not to wake her. The shock almost sent her into a soldier's reflex, about to whip around and catch whoever it was by the throat, but she recognized the shadow on the wall and her heart leapt as she felt Mordin sink down onto the bed.

"Giving in?" She couldn't see his expression in the dark.

"Realized sleep necessary. Don't want to risk mistakes."

"Gotcha." She shifted and scooted towards the wall to make room for him next to her. He paused, propped on his elbow.

"Apologies," he whispered. "Can move if you'd like. Desk chair-"

"No, no! I'm the one intruding in your space."

Mordin shook his head, reclined fully with a wry grin.

"Really, Mordin. I'm used to close quarters."

Mordin settled on his side, facing her. "Need extra blanket? Should have known lab was cold for normal human body temperature."

"No, no." Shepard beckoned him closer. "Here, share…"

Mordin let her throw the blanket over his narrow frame, not that he really needed it. He'd removed his jacket, Shepard noticed, as well as the bracers on his arms, stripped down to the suit he wore beneath it. It was odd to see him out of his usual outfit, it made him look a little…naked. The heat from his body was stronger, more potent now that she was close, now that there was one less layer between them. She must have physically relaxed, because Mordin's brow raised.

"Should have said something if you were cold," he murmured.

"You were busy." Being so close to him, her stomach quivered a bit, heart brimming. At the same time, she felt awkward, as one could only feel after kissing their much older, much less 'prone to romance' lead alien scientist. Come to think of it, she was alone in that category.

But he processed things so fast, he may have found that kiss less than enjoyable and gotten over it without her even batting an eyelash.

"Seem preoccupied."

"Hm?"

"Heart-rate elevated." He gestured between the small space between them. "Can feel it."

Shepard felt at a loss for words. She looked at him, looked into those large, sweet oval eyes that showed nothing but care.

"I'm…I'm being a little selfish," she said.

"Would disagree."

"No…no, I am." She sighed. "I know you're species doesn't….feel the way mine do when, um, expressing emotions. So…this thing between us…what happened the other day…I can't help but be a little heartbroken that it's not going to last the way I wish it would."

Mordin took her hands in his, and his tone was balanced, tender, yet business-like. "Have hypothesis on feelings being experienced," he said, all at once like his usual, chipper self. "Usually sexual attraction based on instinct, body's reaction to recognizing mate to produce healthy offspring. Current situation aside," he added, "I am far past that stage. Now," he said, touching her chin, "biologically have no reason to find me attractive. But salarian relationships often not based on sexual attraction. Deep relationships," he added, seeing her balk. "Not breeding contracts. Relationships based on mutual kinship, shared experiences. Deep, close friendship." He gripped both her shoulders and implored her to understand, his tone almost pleading. "Can sustain that love, Shepard, lifetimes over. Species doesn't matter. Crosses borders. Finds way."

And as cliché as it sounded, she understood. For him, this was romantic.

And that was all at once enough for her.

Mordin moved into her space, tucking his arm around her waist in the process and pulling her close without hesitation, so intimate, it was almost spousal. "Unlikely that feelings of need for you here during hatching are not directly related. Don't need your help. Need your companionship. Will do the hard work myself."

Shepard grinned, brushed a thumb over a scar beneath his eye. "Labor pains, love. Labor pains."

A/N: I'm SO sorry it took me so long to update. I'm in the process of moving, and didn't have a lot of time to write. But now I do! Once again, I apologize for the mush and cliches and fluff. But thank you for sticking with me through this silly little story for so long. It really means so much to me. :3