He knows that feeling, feels it too. Their little excursion on the ship only enraged the itch, the miss for steel underneath his feet, the particular hum of the main guns battery. Homesick might not be the right word, but the Normandy and her crew have become something of a home for him (Palaven aside), and he missed it.

Doesn't make him feel any better knowing Shepard felt the same sort of pang, or something akin to it, for there is nothing much either of them can do about it. Not really.

When she makes the call he doesn't hesitate in the slightest, more than relieved for the excuse to leave his apartment, fully armored and armed with blanks. He rolls his shoulders, checking his sights while she punches in the parameters, the barest hints of a grin touching his generally inexpressive face.

"I could storm two with my eyes closed. Are you trying to put me to sleep Shepard?"