Chapter Text
“What did you call it? A sanity check?”
“Mm. Sanity check.”
The two men lapsed into silence, smiling broadly. Kaidan drummed his fingers on the table, focused on a black plume of smoke drifting out of one of the lower levels of the Presidium commons, up and through the artificial sky.
That ribbon of clouded blue bathed the Presidium in a perpetual afternoon, but for the six hour night cycle to give the dignitaries and high-profile merchants a sense of the passing of time. Shepard had spent the last several hours in the dusk glow of the ward arms, his usual habit. But on the rare occasion Kaidan actually disembarked at the Citadel, he stayed up in the Presidium among the familiar earth trees, the blue sky.
People coming up from the wards into the Presidium often reported a sense of lost time—night to daylight in a short taxi ride. But there was more to it, too: there was a pulse beneath the streets in the wards. In the Presidium, things had always been loping. Slow.
Now, after the Cerberus coup, people seemed to scuttle from shop to shop, they were tentative. Nervous. Nothing like this had ever happened before. The black plumes of smoke were a sure reminder of that.
“Hope you weren’t waiting long,” Ben said as the silence stretched on. He was feeling the table-top, flat palm taking in the tactile sensation of the alien alloy. The more he touched, the more he heard, the more he saw and tasted, the more he could anticipate. He could deliver the right pleasantries and ask the right questions to make people open up. There was a pulse in him: touch everything, see everything, ask everything.
“Hm? Oh. No. No, I got here kinda early. Wanted to get my thoughts together.” Kaidan’s smile was shy, and he was maybe taking in Shepard’s face a little more than he was looking him in the eye. “Guess I… uh… ran outta things to say. Didn’t plan for much after that first part, y’know? Feel kinda like a giddy schoolboy just… talking about us the whole meal.”
Another pause. A little longer. More charged.
Night to day: Shepard had met Kaidan for lunch, laid out the usual pleasantries. Offered his ear to Kaidan’s problems. And then? “I guess what I really want is something… deeper. With someone I already… care about.” Like night to day, complete with the recognition of all that lost time.
Shepard had asked twice for clarification. Hard-coding new data. Kaidan wanted Shepard. There was no mistake. Careful, thoughtful Kaidan Alenko didn’t even hesitate.
“Hard to look at the Presidium the same way after the Cerberus invasion,” Shepard said, not meeting Kaidan’s eye, watching a separate dark billow of smoke to his left.
“I guess they’ll get it all repaired soon enough, then the Council will pretend like it never happened.” Kaidan sighed. His posture had been shifting anxiously since Shepard had smiled at him, told him ‘You and me… I like that. A lot.’
“You really think they can pull that off?” Shepard chuckled, thumb idly scratching at a stain on the table edge.
The look in Kaidan’s eye was playful, but weary when he responded, “I was here for a while during the rebuilding after you—well. While they were rebuilding after Saren’s attack. Once the rubble was cleared, people were happy to forget all about it. Still, for me it’ll never be the same as when you, me, and Ash stepped off the Normandy for the first time. I’ve seen too much happen here.”
Kaidan's smile had become forced at the recollection, and Shepard and he both resumed watching the dark clouds snake out of the shops below. It was as if each was looking at the Presidium for the first time, or perhaps felt so far into new and nervous territory that staring at something familiar was the only anchor. In the silence, Shepard stretched his leg out under the table, wincing from the hip. Kaidan noticed, looked away quickly when Shepard glanced back up at him.
“I guess I’m sorry I brought it up,” Shepard said gently. Kaidan might’ve replied, but the salarian waiter approached.
“Two whiskeys, neat?” Each ‘shot’ of whiskey was enormous: at least four fingers.
“That’s us.” Kaidan’s smile was professional, “And hey, we didn’t see this on the menu, but do you have anything like a Canadian lager?”
The waiter stared at Kaidan and blinked twice.
“Beer? Canadian lager is beer,” Shepard supplied.
“…Ah. Beers. Yes, ummm. We have something called ‘IPA?’”
Shepard threw a glance at Kaidan whose mouth twisted into a wry smile.
“I guess I’ll take what I can get. Two of those,” Kaidan said. The waiter gave a stilted nod, mumbled that they could expect their food any moment, then padded off. “Actually, I suppose I didn’t check to see if you wanted a beer after all.”
Shepard laughed and lifted his whiskey, “Five minutes into our first date, and you already know my order, I’m starting to like this even more.” He smiled warmly at last and Kaidan raised his glass in response.
“No way this can be our first date, Shepard.” Kaidan smirked over the rim of his whiskey, “This is our sanity check, remember?”
“Remind me of the difference?” He took a sip.
“You’ve got to already know you’re sane to go on a date with somebody.”
“Uh oh.” Shepard smiled, licking a droplet of whiskey from his lip, “You think we’re good to try, then?”
“Yeah, Shepard. We’re good.”
They held each other’s gaze, took a long drink.
Two plates clattered onto the table as the waiter returned.
“Two steak sandwiches?” He asked, glassy eyes impassive.
“Yeah, that’s us.” Kaidan answered, clearing his throat, cast a look at Shepard through another sip of whiskey before carefully setting down his glass to pull his plate in.
A moment later another waiter appeared with two opened bottles of beer and a caddy full of various steak sauces.
“Great, hot sauce,” Shepard beamed, setting his whiskey down and selecting a squat bottle of sauce out of the caddy. He opened his sandwich and began pouring the thick sauce in globs onto the meat, grabbing his table knife to shovel the goop out, oblivious as Kaidan scowled at the bottle, pulling the tooth-pick out of his own sandwich.
“Just what do you think you’re doing, Shepard?”
Shepard looked up shyly, his knife still rattling inside the bottle to coax out more of the sauce, “What’s wrong with this?”
“Hot sauce? Really?” Kaidan took a long sip of his whiskey.
“Hot sauce on steak is… bad?” Shepard’s eyebrows scrunched together, as if his brain was hard-coding new data. He rested the bottle back on the table, carefully replacing the bun without breaking eye-contact with Kaidan.
“You can hardly taste the meat under all that tomato sludge.” Kaidan shook his head, raising his sandwich and exaggeratedly rolling his shoulders back. Shepard grinned.
“Considering this stuff is bottled on Omega, I doubt there’s anything like a tomato in it.”
“It dishonors the cow that gave its life for your dinner.” Kaidan bit into his sandwich with vigor, but after chewing for a moment the smile slid from his face. Swallowing, he sighed and reached for the squat bottle by Shepard’s plate, knife still standing upright from its neck. “Then again, that’s what I would say if this was actually beef. What is this stuff? Is it really hot?”
“It’s spicy. The food on Omega doesn’t have much flavor.”
“I remember. Still…” he shook his head, resting his sandwich on the very edge of the plate so he wouldn’t have to dig his fingers underneath the bun to get a grip again.
“I never knew you’d visited Omega, Kaidan.” Shepard paused as he picked up the sandwich, regarding Kaidan over the top bun.
“Not something I ever brought up.” Kaidan stirred the sauce, “Not a story worth telling, really.”
“What? Even after I ‘buttered you up’ with steak?” He smirked, biting into his sandwich.
“Varren steak doesn’t count, Shepard. Or… or whatever this is. Besides, I never made it up to Aria’s couch or anything, I’m sure any stories you have from Omega trump mine by a long shot. Wouldn’t impress you.”
“I think I’d like to be the judge of what impresses me.” Shepard grinned, his eyebrow raising slyly. Kaidan didn’t look up, but there was a pull at the corner of his lips when he finally opened his sandwich.
“Well if this stuff impresses you, maybe I have a shot after all,” Kaidan read the bottle’s label. The sauce was called Blue Bitch, and had a caricature of a cantankerous asari standing, one leg up, on a heap of krogan, X’s in their eyes. Naturally, the sauce was cobalt blue and sparkled slightly. Kaidan used Shepard’s knife to spread a thin layer on his sandwich, “It looks like toothpaste.”
Shepard smiled as he watched Kaidan replace his bun, roll his shoulders back again as he lifted the sandwich, and take two jumbo bites.
“Well?”
“Well… it’s uh…”
“Hot?”
“Yeah. Hot. Err… spicy,” Kaidan grabbed his beer for a swig.
“Too hot for your delicate Canadian palate?”
“Ha! In your dreams, Shepard!” He coughed a bit holding his sandwich off to one side, took another long gulp of beer before setting it down.
“Just trying to look out for you, Major. Can’t lose my second in command to hot sauce.” With the grin on his face, Shepard could only nibble at the edge of his bun. Kaidan took a double swallow of his drink, huffing out a whiskey-thick breath. “Especially not before I get to enjoy some of those ‘benefits’ you mentioned.”
Kaidan’s raised a thick brow, eyes twinkling. “Don’t worry about me, Commander, I’ve been through worse than hot sauce,” He took another huge bite of his sandwich, a fleck of the blue sauce left on next to his mouth.
“Kaidan you’ve, uh, you’ve got some sauce…” Shepard pantomimed brushing the sauce off of his own face with one hand. Kaidan was wide-eyed innocent, licked all the way around his lips, his tongue coming short of catching the speck. “No, you might need a napkin,” Kaidan held Shepard’s stare and brushed his napkin on the wrong side of his face “Other side.” Kaidan wiped too low, eyes narrowing “Little higher. Here, pretend I’m your mirror…” too high, Shepard set down his sandwich. “Here let me just—“
Shepard raised his hand to Kaidan’s face, using his thumb to brush the corner of Kaidan’s lips. That moment, Kaidan turned his head, catching Shepard’s thumb in his lips, kissing the sauce off of Shepard’s finger with a smack.
“There, got it.” Kaidan smiled slyly up at Shepard, who had fallen back into his chair with a gravelly chuckle. Night to day again. While the scuttle of the Presidium carried on around them, Shepard’s gaze was now anchored in Kaidan’s.
“Well,” Shepard ran his thumb along the porous edge of his plate, face reddening, “you said you wanted a chance to practice your flirting. Glad to see you seizing the opportunity.”
“As if you’re not getting your turn, Commander!” Kaidan laughed, ears turning pink, “With all that ‘too hot for you’ business! You practically dared me.”
“That… that wasn’t flirting!” Shepard tried to regain his composure, elbows up on the table, “I was talking about the hot sauce, any… thing else you imagined… must have been your imagination. I figure you must be pretty used to dull food.”
“We’re a very passionate people, Shepard.” Kaidan shot back, a glint in his eye, “You think I’d take a chance on a handsome crackpot like you if I didn’t have an adventurous streak?”
Shepard’s mouth hung open for a second, then he leaned back laughing, brushing his hand across his brow, touching the fabric on his uniform.
“And here I was trying to make small talk about the Presidium,” Shepard chuckled.
“Yeah,” Kaidan said, taking a bite and swallowing, “I guess feeling like a giddy schoolboy isn’t such a bad thing.”
His voice was low and rusted, and Shepard crossed his arms in front of him on the table, pushing his plate back to lean in.
“I think I’d like to see this adventurous streak…” he mimicked Kaidan’s tone, “as long as your idea of adventure goes beyond trying some hot sauce.”
“Mmhmm.” Kaidan set his own steak sandwich down, reached for his whiskey, “Adventurous enough to listen to your come-ons.” He brought the glass to his lips, dark eyes over dark whiskey.
“I don’t need practice. Haven’t you heard? I’m Commander Shepard,” he quirked an eyebrow.
“Oh, you’re a natural alright, what with all that ‘maybe you’ve gotten better with age’ business back at Huerta.”
“That wasn’t flirting either!” Shepard’s face went blank again, hard-coding new data, “It was… trying to encourage a fellow soldier.” He tried a smile.
Kaidan folded his arms across his chest and belted a laugh,
“No way! That was absolutely flirting! Wouldn’t have had the nerve to ask you here today if I hadn’t made up my mind about that. You can’t take it back now, Shepard.”
“Well… I don’t think I was trying to flirt,” Shepard shifted awkwardly, picked his sandwich back up with one hand.
“Maybe you just don’t know yourself so well after all, huh?” Kaidan leaned forward with a suggestive look in his eye, setting his glass down. “And maybe you could use more practice than you think.”
The blush had drained out of both men’s faces, and Shepard’s eyes narrowed to mirror the possessive look Kaidan cast. Before the meat could fall out from the bun of his sandwich, he leaned forward onto his elbows, took a sloppy bite leaving hot sauce all around his mouth. He grinned through the halo of blue.
“Well in that case, I think I might need a return of the favor, Major.”
Kaidan’s eyes glinted with amusement for a moment. He carefully wiped his own mouth with his napkin and sipped at his whiskey before leaning forward, bringing the smell of the whiskey right up to Shepard’s face. They were almost touching, Shepard’s smile frozen in place, eyebrows raised.
Out of nowhere, Kaidan swept the napkin over Shepard’s mouth, cleaning off his face in a single stroke.
Shepard fell back in his chair with a gurgle of mock defeat and the corners of Kaidan’s eyes crinkled as his snicker turned into full-blown laughter.
“Now you’re just teasing!” Shepard sighed as his laughter finally subsided.
“Well Shepard,” Kaidan chuckled, face flush with all the laughing, “the first time we kiss it’s not gonna be with Blue Bitch on our lips.”
“I can live with that,” Shepard’s smile smoldered.
“Mm, I don’t really start playing with… additives,” Kaidan’s eyebrow raised, “until the fourth date.”
“Is that right?” he said, breath hitched beneath his grin.
Kaidan swallowed before nodding, his body leaning casually on the table, but every muscle taught.
“Well… with that delicate Canadian palate of yours, that much Blue Bitch might just put you back in the hospital.”
Kaidan rolled his eyes, chuckling against the tension that had been building in his shoulders since he’d brought up a first kiss.
“Very funny, Shepard. But, a low blow. I’m so glad to be out of that place. Honestly, I think if I never see the inside of Huerta Memorial ever again it’ll be too soon.”
“I know what you mean.”
“What? You weren’t the one cooped up in there for so long!”
“Well in case you forgot, I visited you there plenty of times. If watching that mech bash you into the side of a shuttle was bad, watching you lie comatose on a bed in a hospital full of war-wounded soldiers—every one with better chances than you—was worse.”
“…oh.” Kaidan’s eyes softened.
“And then once you woke up, wondering if you could trust me again.” Shepard shrugged, setting down his sandwich. His smile hadn’t wavered, just dulled somehow.
“Wondering if I was going to what?”
“Seeing a Cerberus mech that for all intents and purposes looked just like a real person? I didn’t think it would help my chances of convincing you that I’m the real Benjamin Shepard.”
Kaidan dabbed at a leaking corner of his sandwich with a french fry.
“I guess I was pretty paranoid, huh?”
“I didn’t mean it to come across that way,” Shepard hurried, “I asked you to trust in me, but I never gave you much to go on. After Earth, with everything happening on Mars… after Palaven. It felt awful to be fighting you too.”
“Hmm,” Kaidan pulled the knife out of the bottle of hot sauce, scraped it along the top of his bun, closed the lid, “Yeah…” His expression turned stony, eyebrows scrunching close, as if the table were a mystery he needed to solve at once.
“I know that look,” Shepard made a lop-sided smile and tried to swallow, “What’re you thinking?”
Kaidan laughed, scooted to the back of his chair and rested his elbow on the table.
“It means a lot, hearing you say all that Shepard, it’s nice to hear you open up a little bit.”
“I’m an open book.” Shepard shifted to the edge of his seat, arms crossed in front of him.
“You say that like you expect me to believe it,” Kaidan snickered. “Sure, I can read you on the battle-field pretty well, and when it comes to the mission you might be an open book. But when it comes to you?”
“…there’s not much interesting to me, Kaidan.” Shepard cast his eyes to the side.
“Well, why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” he said with a coy smile. Their elbows touched and Shepard shook his head.
“You’re a hell of a flirt, Major,” Shepard returned the look. He touched the lip of his whiskey glass, running a finger along the smooth rim.
“Had plenty of time to plan out all my cheesy one liners. It was a very long hospital stay.” Kaidan left their arms touching, picked up and downed the last finger of whiskey.
“If I’d known you came so well equipped, I would’ve prepared myself!”
“Something tells me you’re never unprepared, Shepard,” Kaidan’s voice resonated in his empty whiskey glass before setting it down and picking at his fries.
“That’s,” Shepard looked off to the side, “Not exactly true, all the time.”
Kaidan grinned, biting into three fries at a time.
“At any rate,” he said, holding another fry, “it really means a lot that you agreed to meet me here today. I know you’re a busy guy, and with the war. Can’t help thinking I’m taking you away from something important.”
“This is important,” Shepard said simply, blinking. Kaidan blinked back as the corner of his lip twitched into a smile.
“Uh… heh, then, I’m sorry to take you away from the war effort. What, uh…” his hand almost brushed Shepard’s on the table, “what did you have planned for this afternoon?”
Shepard had glanced down at his own twisted fingers on the table next to Kaidan’s, spoke softly when he met Kaidan’s eyes.
“Got word from Hackett. There’s a Dr. Bryson on the Citadel,” he picked up a fry, chewing as he continued, “Something about the ‘Leviathan project.’”
“Sounds exotic, what is it?”
“I’ll send you the briefing. I won’t know much till I talk to him. Some kind of creature, maybe? Hackett thinks it’s some kind of Reaper killer.”
Kaidan’s eyes got wide, “A Reaper killer? That’s… can you even imagine? Who would’ve thought?”
“You sound more excited about it than Hackett did.” Shepard said swallowing another fry.
“I like learning new things,” Kaidan said, dabbed greasy fingers on his napkin, took a sip of his beer. “It’s crazy to think, even with everything on the line, that we’re still… finding out there’s more to the galaxy. It’s humbling.”
“Yeah? I suppose I was just thinking of it as a way to help us win this war. A way to survive.”
The artificial sky wheeled by slowly overhead, false clouds casting no shadows on the white shops and plazas below. The fountains and pools far below the Apollo’s balcony reflected the blue and white projection back up.
“I hear you. Still.” Kaidan shrugged mildly, “So are you heading over after lunch?”
He had one eyebrow quirked, and the even light from the artificial Presidium sunlight almost washed out the crease of his forehead when he asked.
“No. I figured I’d be busy all afternoon…”
“Busy?”
Shepard motioned to their table, to the café, pointed back and forth between himself and Kaidan with a smile. Kaidan laughed so hard he slapped the table.
“So I cleared your whole schedule? I’m flattered.” He leaned his elbows back on the table, settled his head on his folded hands, “I think this is going to work out just fine after all.”
“When I decided I would see Dr. Bryson later… I was afraid this might be a… longer conversation,” Shepard admitted, raising his beer to his lips.
“What? Thought I was going to grill you about Cerberus again?”
“Every mission we face them, I worry.”
“Shepard,” Kaidan scooched to the edge of his seat, eyebrows knitting together, “I told you that I’m never gonna doubt you again. I hope I made that clear with… with this. With us. I want this Shepard.”
“I do too,” Shepard said quietly, “I’ve just spent a lot of time trying to make things right between us after Horizon. It felt strange how much thought I was devoting to ways to convince you I was still me.”
Kaidan’s hand closed around Shepard’s, his expression softening, “I guess you didn’t need to worry.”
“I guess I didn’t.”
Finishing their steak sandwiches would take two hands, so their fingers untangled and their gazes again returned to the plumes of black smoke rising up all around the Presidium Commons, long black tendrils winding around an otherwise perfect afternoon.