UNC: Swamped
A/N: In my head, Shepard is the Jack O'Neill to Kaidan's Sam Carter.
It was a nice planet, when you got used to the humidity. Typical garden world: breathable atmosphere, shocking lack of toxic spores or radiation hazards or local fauna with teeth bigger than the Mako. The most dangerous thing on the planet seemed to be eating red berries, or possibly a bee sting. Or bee-like creature sting. Even the otherwise stifling humidity was attenuated by a constant breeze.
Admiral Hackett had asked Commander Shepard to check out a downed satellite in the area. There had been no signs of enemy activity — geth, pirate, or otherwise — in the system, or any nearby systems, but Hackett had seemed to think it was important. The Admiral had been quite sharp the last time she'd made an impertinent comment about his reliance on the Normandy crew, so she was on her best behavior. The last thing she needed was to piss off the brass.
Shepard had given up on the Mako about two minutes after landing, in the face of marshy ground and massive, sprawling trees. The all-terrain vehicle performed excellently when diving recklessly off sheer cliffs, but even rocket boosters wouldn't get them through the maze of tortuous roots and pristine undergrowth.
She jumped over a lichen-encrusted log, wondering idly if Hackett had a to-do list, and just picked assignments from it at random to see how she would respond. He probably did. There was probably a betting pool back at Arcturus.
"It's been a while since the last time I went hiking." Lieutenant Alenko's voice interrupted her thoughts. "I wouldn't want to try pitching a tent on this ground, though."
Tali'Zorah cursed softly in quarian as she pushed aside a low-hanging branch. "You mean people do this voluntarily?" the girl asked incredulously. "Why?"
"It's fun," he replied, and Shepard could practically hear the shrug.
"You grew up in the sticks, didn't you, Lieutenant?" she called out.
"Not exactly, ma'am."
"What are 'sticks'?" asked Tali.
"It's a human expression for out in the middle of nowhere," Shepard explained. "You know, out in the country, surrounded by," she gestured expansively to their surroundings, "sticks."
Tali made a low humming noise in her throat. "My people have no such expression. Space on the Flotilla is so limited..." she trailed off, struggling with another branch that threatened to smack her in the head. "But I don't know why anyone would want to live in this."
"There's something to be said for the quiet," Alenko said. "Besides, it's not like you actually live in the trees."
There was a trace of humor in his voice, which Shepard took encouragingly. "Come on, Alenko, no need to be embarrassed. I'm a colonial rube, remember?" She grinned, recalling the accusation Administrator Anoleis had thrown at her.
A long moment passed before he replied. "My parents moved around a lot, before my dad retired. After that, we settled down in Vancouver. We had a house on the beach, close to the mountains. But you know how it is in cities, the population is pretty dense even on the fringes. Dad used to take me and my brothers camping in the summer." Alenko paused again. "He said it was important that we learn survival skills. But I think he just liked the open air. And it was nice to get away from the neighbors sometimes."
Shepard remained quiet, but Alenko seemed to have finished.
"We didn't have places like this on Mindoir," she said, bouncing acrobatically off a series of climbing roots. "Most of the colony was farmland, crop fields. But if you went far enough out, there were some good forests. Tall trees, good for climbing."
"How often did you skip school to go play Tarzan?" Alenko asked indulgently.
"I played Jane, thank you very much," she replied in arch tones. "Not very often."
Shepard grabbed a thick tree limb, pulling herself to the top of a rotting tree stump. The ground sloped steeply in front of her, lined with worn roots and rounded, greenish-gray stones. There was water at the bottom: a bog, maybe, or a stagnant pond. Slimy blue and orange blobs floated on the surface. Shepard couldn't tell if it was plant matter from this distance, and she didn't really want to get close enough to find out; alien algae was not on her list of fun bathing products.
"Looks like we'll have to go around," she said as she turned back to her team, right into the helpful arms of Kaidan Alenko. She pulled away in surprise, overbalancing on the mossy stump. She stuck a foot out as she teetered dangerously, but the rotting wood fell away under pressure. She was dimly aware of hands grabbing at her own as she tumbled backwards.
At least it's not a sheer drop, her brain thought treacherously while she scrambled for a handhold to break her fall.
She landed with an unceremonious splash, plunging into viscous water, fighting the instinct to inhale. Her short trip down the embankment had knocked the air from her lungs, and in the panic of water and darkness she wasn't sure which way was up. Her arm hit something solid; she grabbed it and pulled. The reedy stalk snapped in her hand as her head broke the surface. Her boots hit sticky mud and she stood, sputtering, trying to spit out the foul water and gasp for air at the same time.
Shepard was chest-deep in the bog. She could feel slime clinging to her skin, oozing down the inside of her helmet and into her suit. She squeezed her eyes shut and yanked her helmet off, spitting more when the lower edge caught on her lip. She took sharp, shallow breaths through her mouth, trying not to inhale too much, but the cloying odor of rotting plants permeated her sinuses and clung to the back of her throat.
"Shepard!" she heard Alenko yell.
She raised a hand to wipe the slime from her eyes, but her hard-suit was in equally bad condition and slid over her skin ineffectually.
"Turn around," said Alenko, from somewhere close behind her. She did so. "You just need to walk forward a little, Commander."
Shepard took a tentative step, then another. The mud sucked at her boots as she lifted her feet, then slid under her weight as her feet came down. She progressed unsteadily, until she felt a hand on her arm, pulling her forward. Someone tugged her helmet from her hand, and then she felt gentle fingers on her face, pressing lightly on her eyes to wipe away the worst of the noxious ooze. Shepard cracked an eyelid delicately, catching the blurry figure of Alenko as he pulled off his suit gloves.
He ran his bare fingers over her eyelids again, dropped one hand to her jaw, and slid his thumb along her mouth.
Shepard swallowed the urge to part her lips.
His hands — lovely, warm, strong hands, supplied her mutinous brain — fell away, and a few seconds later her abused nostrils were assailed by the incongruent scents of antiseptic and talcum powder: medical wet wipes. She flinched slightly as the damp cloth touched her skin, erasing the memory of Alenko's caress.
Shepard opened her eyes to meet the impenetrable brown gaze of her detail commander.
"No offense, ma'am," he said mildly, secreting the spent towelettes in a cargo pocket, "but you smell like shit."
She stared at him. It was hard to tell with Alenko, but there was something about the way his eyes wrinkled at the edges...
A grin lit up her face as she burst into laughter. "Try swimming in it," she retorted, and he rewarded her with a smile of his own.
"You wouldn't happen to have a shower in there, would you, Lieutenant?" she asked playfully, prodding at one of the pouches lining his belt.
"I like to be prepared, Commander," he chuckled softly, "but there's just not enough space."
Her gaze drifted downward. In the corner of her vision she saw Tali move, the girl's head tilting slightly. Shepard inhaled sharply and forced her eyes back to Alenko's face. He was watching her, smile gone, expression carefully blank.
Her body, now in collusion with her brain, reminded her that moments ago, he'd been stroking her face like a lover.
Shepard grinned at him again, trying to hide her embarrassment. At least all the gunk still stuck to her face hid her blush.
"All right, kids," she barked with an enthusiasm she did not feel, "we've got ourselves some fancy hardware to find." She stepped lightly around Alenko, telling herself that she couldn't possibly feel the heat of his body through their hard-suits.
"Commander, don't you want to... change?" Alenko's voice was calm. Alenko was always calm. "For the sake of morale?"
Even when he was being a smartass.
"Why change, Lieutenant? I'm perfect the way I am." She tossed another grin over her shoulder. "So suck it up, marine."
"Aye, aye, ma'am," he replied, humor creeping back into his inflection.
Shepard took the helmet Tali handed her, debating briefly whether or not to put it back on; forgoing the inevitable in favor of the much more important task of finding a way around the bog that did not involve being chest-deep in unspeakable muck. Again.
She didn't notice the way Alenko's eyes followed her as she walked away.