Shepard scowled at the datapad she held in her hand. She attempted to run her unoccupied hand through her hair in some meaningless display of agitation, only to be thwarted by its current status of "bun", so she instead cleared her throat and shifted her weight on the bench.
"Hmm. Excessive movement. Phonic tic. Narrowed eyes. Something bothering you, Shepard?"
Shepard jerked her head up from the datapad, turning her gaze to Mordin. She'd almost forgotten the doctor was there; he had been unusually silent.
"Irritation compounded by sexual frustration doubtful. Have seen Gunnery Officer Vakarian frequenting room. Hope instructional vids and diagrams were helpful?"
Her face turned an admirable shade of crimson, and she held up a hand to stop Mordin as he paused to take a much-needed breath of air. She tossed the datapad over to him. If he kept guessing about the source of her irritation it would only get much, much worse. She'd had the displeasure of figuring that out the hard way.
"It's this damn datapad. It has a disturbing amount of information on me. Miranda insisted I read through it to make sure that I recognized everything, and see if I had any sudden epiphanies. Making sure my brain is doing its duty and all that jazz. Can't have me running about missing memories. Might be bad for business."
All that jazz. Hm. Wonder if the translator handled it. He'd probably heard it before, anyway.
Mordin studied the datapad. Shepard tried to run her hand through her hair again. She cleared her throat when that failed, the harsh noise sounding unbearably loud in the silence. She shifted awkwardly and continued,
"The vids did actually help, but, I, uh...I don't think you meant to send us that one with the hanar."
The salarian frowned deeply, his attention turned back to her as he cut her off.
"Hanar? Hm. My mistake. Intended to send to Yeoman Chambers. Sorry."
Shepard blinked, as a swarm of very unwanted images flooded her brain. She croaked out,
"What the hell did Kelly want with it?"
Mordin's eyes widened, scandalized. "Doctor-patient confidentiality, Shepard! Sacred trust."
"Right! Right. Of course."
Mordin's eyes flicked back to the datapad. Shepard coughed.
"Thanks for the painkillers, by the way. You weren't joking about the chafing. Not that I'm complaining! I mean, I definitely enjoy myself. The chafing isn't a big problem. Or even a problem at all."
Why the hell couldn't she seem to stop talking? Mordin had focused his attention on her again, smiling slightly.
"Sometimes I worry about those teeth, though."
Damn it.
"Ah. Wouldn't worry, Shepard. Turians noticeably careful with asari partners. Can assume no different with humans. Still, details would be welcome. Turian-human pairings rare enough to warrant study!"
She could swear those gigantic black eyes were almost gleaming with scientific curiosity.
"I...I'll let Garrus know about your interest."
When hell freezes over.
"Would appreciate that, Shepard."
She nodded as crisply and professionally as she could, considering the conversation she'd just subjected herself to.
"I should go." She'd never enjoyed saying those words as much as she had then.
Shepard slid off the mess hall bench and rapidly exited the room, an expression of supreme relief on her face. Mordin waited for a moment, his long fingers tapping a patient beat on the table. Shepard jogged back into the room and snatched the datapad from the doctor's outstretched hand, before once against exiting wordlessly.
I found this sitting in my documents and decided to go ahead and post it in spite of how terribly short it is.