[oh.]

[he isn't sure how to respond to that-- relief wells under the continued embarrassment of making her come out here (except she'd chosen to, hadn't she? didn't know), and he tramps down both in an effort not to appear too one way or another. it puts an awkward, uncertainly happy look on his face, which he is by no means conscious of.]

[part of her crew. a... nice feeling. more than a bit intimidating. something he wanted to return to the best of his ability---]

[- she shifted away; he snapped to attention out of habit, arms ramrod straight at his sides.]

Yeah! [ech, too loud, too obviously nervous. toning down with a wince:] Er, yeah. I mean...

[wait no he didn't mean anything this was not the time for a counterpoint too late.]

... It's not always bad, having expectations. [missions gave focus. missions gave goals. better than the baseline keep surviving, which seemed about all there ever was to strive toward. that must've been why he was so tired all the time: there was no real reward in just surviving. -- anyway.] Take care, Miss Shepard. I'll see you again soon.

[it didn't have a direct acceptance, but whatever, there wasn't any energy to be nervous about yet another thing.]