The door of the skycar slammed shut with as much of a thud as was possible with the built in dampeners. Shepard stalked away from the car, the soles of her shoes providing a more satisfying rhythm of annoyance than the door had. Pedi-talons clicked at her heels, their own cadence bellying a calm that sparked down her spine. Always in control, always perfectly fine, always one breath away from sliding from her Top 5 to her Bottom 5 favorite people. His placement teetered precariously as he finally grabbed her wrist and turned her to face him, “Shepard, can we please talk about what just happened?”

Shepard offered Varian a tight smile, “Talk about what? Nothing happened.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. So this was the game they were playing. With a slow cadence he said, “We need to talk about you kissing me.”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, Varian,” Shepard hissed and turned away from him, “There’s nothing to talk about. We’ve been drinking, you got a promotion at work, it was just celebratory.”

“That’s not fair, Shep,” his tone leaned toward pleading, “You know how I feel about you. You can’t just act like it was nothing.”