Despite her graying hair, Chakwas was in excellent physical condition and regularly drew the eyes of men half her age. She was not a vain woman, yet the hunt for Saren was taking a toll on the aging doctor. Her decelerating metabolism and lean physique were becoming increasingly problematic. Fatigue, headaches, muscle pain, and sleep disturbances had been tolerable so far; in fact, Chakwas was unsurprised by the frequency of these reported symptoms among the rest of the crew.

At the moment, she was also uncomfortably cold. This was a particularly distressing realization for the fully uniformed medical officer, because she always kept the medbay thermostat several degrees higher than the mess hall. She suspected that the engine room would have been the only warmer-

"Doctor Chakwas, Shepard needs help!"

The doctor had been so wrapped up in her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed the medbay door's usual swishing sound. Far more startling was the sight of the newcomers.

"You can't be serious!" the physician exclaimed eloquently.

"I told her to let the paramedics patch her up, but she-"

"Just have a seat, Commander", the doctor interrupted the turian, gesturing to the nearest exam table. The spectre complied.

"I don't think it's serious", Shepard grunted as she stripped off her combat suit, obviously making a tremendous effort to appear strapping in front of her turian admirer. It might fool the turian, but Chakwas held sacred knowledge of the commander that no else did. Decades of medical experience granted visual acuity that would turn a salarian green.

Assuming they weren't green to begin with, Chakwas mused. Kirrahe had been a charming conversationalist. She was sorry to see him go.

"Garrus, would you be so kind as to wait outside?"

"Oh. Of course, Doctor", the turian tipped his head respectfully, but only Shepard noticed his hesitation before departing. The commander did not care if the turian saw her naked; she was slow to undress because her ribs and legs screamed with pain at the slightest touch. Pinpricks ran through her right foot, and her wrist was also beginning to throb. The paramedics' palliative cocktail was probably wearing off, and her heart fluttered briefly when she removed her final garment.

Would it kill Chakwas to turn the heat up in here?

"Alright", the good doctor sighed. "You know the drill, Shepard".

The naked spectre steadied her breathing, adjusting herself to the relatively cool air that washed across her alabaster skin. Chakwas skimmed a handheld scanner across her patient, ignoring the pale streak of scar tissue that adorned Shepard's kneecap. Shepard was a unique patient, having expressed absolutely no interest in rudimentary cosmetic grafting. She would occasionally shared stories of her most grievous wounds with the good doctor. Chakwas was never squeamish about details, and Shepard spared her none.

Chakwas knew every inch of Shepard, though she sensed the spectre had never really been the shy type. The spectre did not utter a word with regard to the climactic battle against Saren in the Citadel Tower. The exhaustion in her face and stillness of her eyes told Chakwas more than enough.

"Ribs hurt the most", Shepard muttered. "Hope I didn't crack them again".

"I'll run a full scan" the doctor declared. Shepard shifted onto her back, although the wrinkles of her brow made her silent agony all too apparent to Chakwas. She administered a mild sedative with an anti-inflammatory. The wrinkles faded within seconds.

As the familiar hum of medical machinery filled the medbay, Chakwas noticed the commander's pulse dipping to a relaxed tempo. Shepard found herself wondering if Garrus had ever seen a naked woman before.