"Sir?"
Shist Shepard rolled his left sleeve up once again, thoughts of using duct tape to hold it there running rampant in his subconscious. "Is there a problem, Sergeant Gardener?" he asked casually.
"No," Gardener replied with a shrug. "Not a problem, exactly. I am wondering, however, what you're doing in my kitchen."
Shepard glanced down at the ingredients he'd gathered, frowned, and looked back up at the mess sergeant. "The Normandy's my ship. Technically, this is my kitchen."
"That's not what I meant, sir. Let me rephrase. What are you doing in a kitchen?"
"Cooking," Shepard replied simply with a shrug. "At least, I'm trying to."
"I gathered that," Gardener said with as much patience as he could muster. Shepard's nonchalant, down to earth attitude, while morale-inducing, tended to grate a little when the mess sergeant was stressed. And he certainly became stressed when someone, commanding officer or not, invaded his personal space, his pride and joy: the Normandy's galley. Gardener took a deep breath, then continued, hoping to get a real answer from the commander. "And why are you cooking?""It's April 14th," Shepard replied again. "It's Ash's birthday. I wanna make it special."
"Aww, that's so cute, Commander!" Kelly squealed from her seat at the table.
Gardener shook his head, holding his hands up in a gesture of confusion. "Hold up, sir. Can you even cook?"
"I looked up a recipe for fettuccine alfredo- that's her favorite- on the extranet. It can't be that hard. Just follow the directions, right?"
Gardener gasped, insulted. "Cooking is not simply 'following the directions!' It's an art!" He took a deep breath to calm down. "I apologize, Commander. That was uncalled for."
Shepard grinned. "No harm done."
"Perhaps I could help...?" he suggested.
The commander held up a hand. "While I'm sure your expertise would come in handy, I'd rather do this myself. For sentimental reasons, as I'm sure you understand."
Gardener nodded, though uneasy at leaving the galley in the hands of an inexperienced cook. With that, Shepard turned up the heat on the stove, ready to go.
-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•
Ashley awoke to the sound of tiptoeing footsteps. She rubbed her heavy eyelids and sat up, frowning when she saw Kelly emptying fish food into the tank in Shepard's quarters. It wasn't that she wasn't used to it. Kelly often came in to feed the fish. Ashley didn't mind, as long as the chore never got passed on to her. What she wasn't used to, however, was waking up to it.
"What time is it?" she asked, stretching and stifling a yawn.
"Ten thirty," Kelly replied happily.
"Happy birthday, Chief Williams."
"Thanks," Ash said. "I must have forgotten to set my alarm.""No, the Commander shut it off this morning, saying you deserved some extra sleep."
Ashley smiled. She couldn't imagine anyone else she could have possibly fallen in love with, and silently thanked God once again for putting Shepard into her life. "That's a good present. I guess I'd better go thank him."
"Oh, he's not done yet!" Kelly said with a grin. "It's really cute, the things he does for you."
Ashley laughed. "I got lucky."
"I'm sure he'd say the same thing."
At that moment, they heard a small pop, followed by sounds of shouting on the lower decks. Ashley shook her head. "That didn't sound good."
-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•
Shepard rolled his eyes, frustrated at the third fire that had popped up within five minutes. He pulled the pot of blackened noodles off of the stove and doused them with lukewarm water. Deciding to leave them for a moment, he turned to the sauce. He distinctly remembered Alfredo sauce having a creamy color and texture, yet a crispy brown layer covered the surface of the sauce. Unsure of what to do, he stuck a wooden spoon into the mixture and stirred. He was sure that the sauce was supposed to be less solidified than it was, but he continued to stir until the brown chunks were evenly distributed throughout the sauce. He let it sit for a while, returning to the noodles and adding the amount of garlic that the recipe called for. Turning to place the pot back on the stove, he saw the wooden spoon, sitting on top of a hot burner, aflame. Groaning, Shepard violently threw it across the room with a burst of biotic power.
"Skipper?"
He froze, wincing at the sound of her voice. He turned around to face her, pasting on a smile.
She just stood there, a look of amusement spread across her face. "What are you doing?"
"Happy birthday."
She smiled, walking over to him and taking the pot of burnt noodles from him and setting it on the counter. Ashley took one of his calloused hands in hers and grinned up at him. "Thanks, Shist. Now what were you doing?"
"I..." he sighed, running a hand through his strawberry blonde hair. "I wanted to make your birthday special. So I tried to make you some food... But it didn't work out. I was stupid, and Gardener offered to help but I-"
Ashley cut him off, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his. He stiffened for a moment, surprised, before relaxing, sliding his arms around her waist and kissing back slowly.
"That is the sweetest thing EVER, Skipper."
"But the noodles... Ash, they're black."
She just laughed, glancing at the pot again. "Well, I'm not going to lie, they look awful. But the fact that you tried made this birthday the greatest." She stood on her tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his jawline. "But, just to be safe... Why don't we go out to eat?"
Shepard smiled and nodded. "That's probably a good idea."
She just let out one of those rare giggles only he could produce and kissed him again before taking his hand and leading him away, picking up the burnt spoon on her way out.
Fin.