Samantha really, truly hadn't meant to seduce her commanding officer. She especially hadn't meant to seduce her three days after her boyfriend died. Tragically. After giving up his life to protect her, and then sending her a posthumous message so touching that Shepard had spent the next hour sniffling and alternating between smiling sentimentally and barely holding herself back from sobbing into her desk.

I mean, who does that sort of thing? (Apart from Samantha herself, that is. Apparently)

All Samantha had meant to do was offer Commander Shepard some entirely platonic comfort during a difficult time, in the form of a game of chess. A fully clothed game of chess. Really!

Unfortunately (or perhaps, fortunately) things with Commander Shepard never quite went according to plan.

Jeff had had every intention of seducing EDI. Or at least, hitting on her, he still wasn't entirely convinced that there was any way to combine her metal body with his brittle bones in a way that didn't end up with him in a private room at Heurta Memorial. But dating? Dating he was willing to give a try. They were all probably going to die soon anyway. He'd blame it on Shepard's advice, but it's not like hadn't known that she was going to tell him to go for it, that's the kind of person Shepard was.

So he went for it. The hard part was getting EDI to notice.

"Hey," he said, dancing up towards her slowly. This was made easier by the way she stood absolutely stock still, despite the dance floor beneath their feet vibrating with music. "You look amazing." She really did, the bright coloured lights reflected off her silvery skin like fireworks over water.

"Thank you, Jeff," she replied. "But I thought you avoided dancing because of the chance of injury."

"Usually, sure," he said. "But I was talking to Shepard, and she asked me: what would I regret if I died tomorrow? And I thought: not going up and dancing with EDI. So here I am."

"I see."

He thought about bumping his hip against hers or doing something else equally suggestive, but past experience had proven that such manoeuvres only led to broken bones and crying prom dates.

He shouted over the music. "You know dancing with you would be easier if you were dancing too."

"I am not programmed to dance," she said. "It requires an aesthetic appreciation of music that lies beyond my capabilities."

"Really? Wow. Sometimes I forget how different your mind is from a human's."

"There are humans who do not enjoy music," she said. "Although they are admittedly rare."

"Well this human..." He thought about trying to teach her to dance, but it all seemed like too much effort. Why was he trying to be subtle, anyway? This was EDI.

He moved closer and spoke into her ear (or what passed for one) "I know you have trouble interpreting social cues sometimes. So what I'm doing right now? Is I'm hitting on you."

She turned to face him.

"I see," she said.

"Is that all you have to..." She grabbed his hand.

"Your ploy has had the desired outcome," she said. "I have been successfully courted. Shall we go somewhere private?"