A/N: From the kinkmeme. Written because driving lessons are ripe for banter. No porn, just sweet, sweet snark.

Back To School

"Okay, I'm going to be honest here. I thought your light battlefield vehicle training scores had been left out of your files."

"You've been looking at my Alliance records again? You creepy little fanboy."

"Don't try to change the subject. Why was there no score for your battlefield vehicle training, Shepard?"

"I never signed up for it. It wasn't mandatory then."

"So you've been flying the Hammerhead blind all this time?"

"It's not like this is new. I had no idea what I was doing with the Mako, but I learned how to use that too."

"Oh god. Pull over. Let me out. I'll take my chances with the desert."

"Geez. Calm down, Joker. No one's died because of my driving yet."

"I saw Tali do a happy-dance when she saw there was no Mako in the hangar of the new Normandy. The moment when Garrus saw the same empty space was the only time I've seen him look relaxed since he came back to the team."

"Stop exaggerating."

"You wish I was exaggerating."

"Look, you're not the only pilot on the crew. If you're going to be such a little girl about it, I'll go ask your night duty relief for the lessons."

"Oh, is that how's it's going to be? I follow you to hell and back, but the minute I start questioning you you're looking for a new pilot. My relief, no less! How could you? You're heartless and I want a divorce."

"A divorce? Remind me, when did I take leave of my senses and marry you?"

"Yeah, laugh it up. We'll see who's laughing when I get custody of the hamster."

"Are you going to help me or not?"

"Fine. Look, you know how to start the thing. We're not going anywhere until you do."

"Alright. Do you think you can contain your squeals of terror while I get the ignition-?"

"Wait!"

"What?"

"You're completely neglecting the fuel line! Are you trying to wear the engines out?"

"Fine! Show me what I'm supposed to be pressing."

"You won't even remember the names of the switches. Look…just this one first, then that one. Fuel line. Then ignition. Geez, I used to think there was something wrong with the sound on the surveillance gear when you started this thing up. That was the sound of dry pistons. Oh god. You poor little ship."

"Please stop patting the dash like that."

"It's called a helm. Helllllllllllllllllllllm. You philistine."

"Right. Next?"

"Alright, let's just…oh geez, it's the part where you actually move it. Okay, just because it can go 120 clicks per hour doesn't mean you take off at that speed, alright? You ease the controls forward, slowly. And please stay on level terrain."

"This planet is basically one big sand dune. Everything's level."

"I'm sure you'll find a cliff to fall off. That's like your mutant power or something. You naturally navigate towards cliffs. Alright, try increasing speed a little. Watch the speed reading, and try not to get over thirty clicks."

"It's called 'kilometers per hour'. Philistine."

"Whatever. Don't get smart with your teacher or I'll fail you on principle."

"Is this the part where I appeal to take your sexy extra credit project?"

"…You've been going through my browsing history. Or my dreams."

"Calm down. That line's almost as old as porn itself. Hey, set me some kind of test here. I think I've mastered 'go forward' and 'increase speed gradually'."

"Alright, uh…okay, before I say this, remember that my ass is brittle. If you go slamming on the breaks it'll probably crack my ribs when I bounce off the helm. Just ease into a stop, okay?"

"You big baby. Do you want a biotic cushion while I'm at it?"

"I've seen what you do with this thing. That's not a stupid or unnecessary suggestion."

"Oh, shut up."

"Alright, good. You can stop this thing without sending everyone inside it flying. You're already doing heaps better than you usually do."

"Yeah, yeah…you know, you shouldn't poke fun at the greenhorns. I bet you finished your first flight sim by bringing down your pretend ship in flames."

"Shut up and try to make a smooth turn around that dune up ahead."

"Fine, but I'm going at my standard speed this time."

"You can't- whoa! Hey! Brittle! I'm brittle!"

"Then you'd better hold on. Sharp left!"

"Son of a-!"

"Look at that sand fly!"

"Jane, stop this crazy thing! Now!"

"…Crybaby."

"Maniac. Oh geez, let me out."

"Relax. We'll call it a lesson and I'll give you time to readjust before asking for the next one."

"Never again."

"You always come back for more."

"Like I could hide from you. I think I bruised something."

"I'm not kissing it better."

"Well, now I'm definitely going to appeal for full custody of the hamster."