Disclaimer: Mass Effect 1-3 and all characters therein are the property of Bioware and EA, who will play games with my achy-breaky heart until the sun dies.

He takes a strand of her hair in between his fingers, observing it cautiously. She waits patiently, bare shoulders softened under dim light. She shakes her head a little, moving her hair, and because she has her back turned and can't see him he allows himself to look on with some wonderment. So much of it, and with so little use, yet aesthetically pleasing and soft to the touch. Perhaps evolution had seen fit to establish this as a snare. Observations of humans on the ship implied this added something involved in attraction. Compared to most things, it seemed a waste of time.

"...A useless extension," he said, rubbing a few strands from between his fingers and letting them fall.

"Should I shave it off?"

He scowled but said nothing, maintaining the same expression when she allowed herself a slight, smug look of victory and a chuckle. She shifted until she was sitting facing him, and ran her fingers through her hair once before looking up. "Its peace time now." She began gathering up her hair. "You have an entire galaxy to explore. And I'm sure this cycle wouldn't be complete without the last Prothean making trouble. Might as well take advantage of the fact that anything's possible now that war is a done deal."

"A soldier's job is never over," he replied with his usual stiffness, though his eyes watched her fingers as they threaded in and out of the 'useless extension', gathering it up in bits so it would sit atop her head.

"Joining the Alliance?"

"Perhaps," he mused, annoyed with the hair tie she now held between her teeth, wanting to yank it away and tell her how ridiculous she was and how it was still more ridiculous that he should be as fond of her as he is. When the words would not come, he nearly went for the stray strands of hair that had fallen out of place on her head. Butt she got up from where she was sitting, causing his hand to reach further than it needed to before it quickly retracted.

"Speaking of Alliance," she said, unaware as usual, "I have to meet with Admiral Hackett."

Silence. He stared at her retreating back, continued to stare as she scrutinized her hair in the mirror and saved the last few strands with some hairpins. A sting of annoyance went through him, now strong enough to require words."You had not stated you were busy," he said finally.

"A soldier's job is never over," she echoed, earning her a glare which she deflects by not seeing it. "Join and you'll see what I mean." She flashed him a smile, sympathetic and tired, heading for the small closet. "Plans for rebuilding. There's already a project for a new Citadel."

"A foolish move," he fired back, getting up and walking over to where she was, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. "Would it not be wiser to focus on rebuilding on the ground instead of chasing fancies in the clouds?"

"Your point's been covered in the meetings already," she replied, unaware of eyes staring accusingly at her dress blues, vengeful when her removed the jacket from it's hanger and barely averting when she looked back at him. "But the people of the galaxy need hope. Seeing a new Citadel is going to be like lighting a beacon. It was the center of all intergalactic happenings. When it does manage to launch into space, people will finally feel like things are on the mend."

"An inspiration of false security," he stated, watching her adjust the cuffs of her jacket once she looked away again, shaking it once to get the wrinkles out. The scars on her skin are no longer fresh, but he knows they still ache. Gods forbid he is going soft, but even for someone like her, there must be a limit.

"We have no enemies right now, so taking advantage would be good," was her patient reply, so used to his words that it shocks him how familiar they've become.

Before she could even get her hand inside the first sleeve, he grabbed her wrist, the motion not strong in itself but telling for how gentle it is. Her eyes lifted to him in question, the tell-tale smirk dancing on her lips.

"Trying to keep me from work?"

"The fault is yours," his voice rumbled, feet bringing him closer until his toes touched hers. "You failed to state that you had work in the first place." Fingers tightened around her wrist ever-so-slightly with intent.

"You know you can't stop me from going to a meeting like this." But she'd already let him take her jacket out of her hand and place it on some aimless surface nearby.

"I'm sure I can," he murmured, arrogant as always, fingers ghosting over her cheek.

"Make me," she threw back childishly (and rather nonsensically), meaning to look serious, a flicker of challenge in her eyes.

He was the one to smirk now, all too happy to oblige.

A/N: I think the Shepard/Javik pairing is a wonderful oddity and I wish people would write lots more for it. Here's my unworthy contribution! *scuttles away*

This makes my second foray into ME fanfiction. The stuff I've posted for Mass Effect so far has actually been posted elsewhere first for test-runs and for-the-heck-of-its (and to appease my own shippy heart). I'm editing as I go, trying to bolster this so it isn't just sentence fragments as far as the eye can see, so on and so forth. If you've got advice or critique I'd love to hear of it.

Anyway, thank you very much for reading! I hope you liked it or at least found it humorous.