This is, completely unrelated to the multitude of other Hackett/Shep fics that I've written LOL. I just couldn't get this line out of my head. And since all my other stories have Hackett & Shep already in a relationship well before ME3, I figured this would have to do.

Not beta, all mistakes are my own.

No real spoilers.

Rated M because I cuss like a goddamn sailor. =) Also rated M for some hot moments.


Bioware owns all. Sadly.

Read. Enjoy. Review. Favorite. I'll love you forever lol.

Several months after the Reaper War, Shepard found herself attending what seemed like the millionth damn celebration party. She'd been promoted to Major and accepted a position in the N7 training program. The Normandy had a new commanding officer, one Commander James Vega. She was pleased that Vega had the ship, he deserved it. She'd just felt like she needed her feet planted on the ground for a while.

The N7 program had been the perfect fit. She trained new recruits at a facility in London. And she occasionally visited Arcturus for meetings or like this evening, for goddamn memorials and black tie events. She stepped into the room and immediately headed for the bar. She grabbed a whiskey sour and turned to get a better look at the other party-goers. A man in a dark blue, almost black, tuxedo caught her attention. She was blatantly ogling his broad shoulders when he turned and she found herself staring into a familiar pair of blue eyes.


Shepard spun back around and told herself to stop lusting after the unreachable. She was half-way through her drink when someone stepped up next to her. It wasn't Hackett. Sadly. It was a very drunk Commander that she'd never met. When he tried to grab her ass, she made a quick retreat from the room.

She was walking down a hallway when the idiot caught up with her. He grabbed her shoulder and shoved her up against the wall. Fighting in a dress was not ideal; she started to push him away when he was dragged away from her.

Hackett had the man by the throat. He hauled him down the hall towards two waiting Alliance military police. He returned moments later to check on her. He pulled off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. It was difficult to resist the urge to point out that she could have biotically thrown the man into next week. But it was fucking hot watching Hackett play 'knight-in-shining-armor'. Plus, his jacket smelled…enticing.

"Are you alright?" Hackett's arm wrapped around her waist and guided her through a maze of hallways into what she assumed was his office.

"I'm fine." Shepard tugged his jacket closer. She wasn't ready to give it up. "Seriously, Hackett? I defeated the reapers; I can handle one drunken asshole."

"I didn't like seeing another man's hands on you." Hackett admitted while he led her over to a couch in the corner.

Shepard took a seat on the couch. She kicked off her heels and got comfortable. "Whose hands should be on me?"

Hackett ignored her question and poured a couple of glasses of scotch. He handed her a glass and then sat beside her. "It's been a while since I've seen you."

"The N7 program is keeping me busy. There's a new group of recruits. I'm enjoying it more than I thought I would." Shepard took a sip of the scotch.

"It suits you." Hackett's hand patted her knee. It was more of a caress and less of a pat. The warmth of his touch did things to her. Things that made her want to straddle his goddamn lap and rip his shirt off. "So why were you checking out my ass earlier?"

"I…" Shepard's mouth opened to respond and then snapped shut when the hand on her knee shifted a little so his fingers slid just underneath the hem of her dress. She took another drink from the glass before she tried to speak again. "Not your ass so much as your shoulders."


"Never underestimate the power of a good suit, Hackett." She ran a hand over his jacket. "It does amazing things for a man's back."

"Is that all it takes? A good suit?" Hackett raised both eyebrows.

"Well, it does depend a lot on the man in the suit." She watched his hand inch a little higher.

"Major Alenko seemed very interested in your assignment to London." Hackett watched her over the rim of his glass.

"Major Alenko has no right to be very interested in anything that relates to me." She frowned at him.

The hand on her leg tightened a little. "That's good to know, Shepard."

She looked down at his hand for a moment then back up at him. "And why exactly is that good to know?"

"It means that there are no toes that I'll be stepping on." He set his glass aside.

"Stepping on when?"

"When I do this…" He shifted on the couch to lean down to bring his lips close to hers. "Unless, you'd rather I find that Commander who accosted you."

Shepard pressed forward so her lips met his. "I'm not a couch kind of girl, Admiral."

"Then it's a damn good thing that I have my own apartment with a rather large, rather comfortable bed." Hackett smiled at her.