Private Practice, by potionsmaster
Rating: T for language and drinking in a bar
A/N: I'm fighting the instinct to make this a slow burn. You're welcome.
Summary: It's a small world in Normandy, what can I say.
Chapter 2: Where Everybody Knows Your Name
Shepard slid onto the bar stool with a sigh. He'd been in the new job for about a month and hadn't had any more conversations with any doctors, which he supposed was a good thing. Samara was happy with him so far; she flat out said she never had a phone operator smooth over issues with problem patients so well before and told him he missed his calling as a diplomat. He gave her a tight smile at that. He had been an unofficial mediator in his squad when he served. The skill was applicable, it seemed.
"Is that really...woooow! It's you!"
The stool next to him scraped on the floor as it was pulled out and a medium-tall blonde man plopped himself on it, leg stuck straight out.
"Hey, Conrad. How's it going?"
"Not too bad, Shepard. Where've you been? Bar's been lonely without you lately..." the man nodded at the bartender. The burly, scarred guy came towards them, tossing a towel over his shoulder. Shepard always thought James' too-tight shirt was going to rip if he flexed too much.
"Hola, Squirrely. How're you today? The usual suds for you and Commander Mopey over here?"
Shepard raised an eyebrow at that.
"I am not mopey, thanks. Nor a commander."
"Sorry-not-sorry, Loco, but you are in my books. And you look like it, too. Haven't seen you in a while... Rough day today?" He filled two mugs from the tap and placed them in front of the men. Conrad smacked his lips appreciatively before taking a sip and getting foam in his mustache. Shepard sighed.
"Not really, just long. Finally got a little bit of breathing room; been at my job for about a month now."
Conrad blinked at him dreamily, making him a little uncomfortable.
"...can I help you, Conrad?"
"No, I'm just glad you're back. It's nice to see a hero like you around. You just make me feel better when you're here."
Shepard raised his eyebrow higher.
"I'm just like any other soldier, nothing special. Medical discharge, and that's all she wrote. What happened to your knee, by the way?"
"This?" Conrad asked, gesturing theatrically to the leg he had propped. "Torn ACL...Doc says if it doesn't improve on its own by my next appointment, we'll have to look at surgery. It's just so hard to remember the restrictions, though...I have to patrol my block for the neighborhood watch, and I hurt it by running after a perp."
Shepard chuckled behind a sip of his beer. "Sounds exciting. Did you catch him?"
"Well, it turned out it was a raccoon that was messing with some trash cans. But I haven't seen it since, so I guess that's good."
James snorted as he wiped the bar and tidied the garnishes. The phone rang in the background.
"Varmint doesn't know what's comin' to him with you around, Squirrely. The world needs more people like you to keep it safe," he said, tossing the used towel into a pile and heading towards the jangling phone.
"This is The Citadel, how can I help you?" he said, walking away. Shepard fiddled with his napkin and debated ordering food while Conrad happily babbled about his other neighborhood watch escapades and successful thwarts of mischief. He was only half paying attention, nodding along and making noncommittal noises at the appropriate times. The bar was starting to fill up and get noisier.
A shadow loomed over them as James came back, shaking his head with an amused smile.
"Yo, Squirrely...the little woman called and wants you to bring home dinner. Stat. You ordering here?"
"I better not this time...last time I got what I thought she wanted and she didn't want any of it and I had to go get something else," Conrad said glumly, finishing his beer. He pushed himself off the stool and threw a few bills on the table. "Hey, James? Next one for Shepard's on me...Good to see you again, pal. We missed you here."
"Same, Conrad. Good to be back. Thanks for the drink." He gave a small salute to the limping man's figure disappearing into the crowd. James watched him leave, then filled another mug for Shepard.
"Weird little dude, but he tips good. Here ya go."
Shepard just shook his head and turned towards the new beer. He was jostled from behind, making it slosh a bit.
"Oh, sorry! Someone knocked me into you; I was coming over for a stool. Is this one taken?"
He turned, scowl firmly in place while shaking off his wet hand and met warm, dark eyes. An apologetic smile played on the other man's lips as he slid onto the empty stool.
"Damn, I'm really...wow, I'm sorry."
Their gaze locked and the man bit his lower lip. Shepard felt his expression soften a bit.
"S'alright, it happens. No big deal."
"If I make you spill your drink again, I'll buy a replacement, how about that?"
The smile grew and he offered a hand. Shepard huffed a laugh and shook more beer off his hand, shaking his head.
"Sounds good, but I don't want to get your hand wet."
"Fitting punishment for spilling your drink, then, uh...what's your name?" The man grasped his hand firmly and pumped it up and down a couple of times. The handshake matched the easy smile. He couldn't help smiling back. James tossed a clean towel at him to wipe his hand.
"Shepard." He smeared his hand across the towel, then held it out to the brown eyed man.
"Nice you meet you. Just 'Shepard'? No first name? I'm Kaidan."
"Just Shepard. I'm more used to being called that than anything else." James glanced between the two of them and cleared his throat.
"What can I get for you, Blue?" he said, looming over the bar, shirt straining over his muscular shoulders. Kaidan leaned against the polished surface, folding the towel neatly and shoving back to James after he was done.
"Uh, the usual shot of whiskey and a good ol' Canadian lager is just fine, thanks."
Both Shepard and the bartender raised an eyebrow at it.
"Whatever you say, jefe...to each their own."
The shot and bottle were shoved across the bar to him. He nodded his thanks and toasted Shepard with the whiskey, then tossed it back with barely a wince. Shepard whistled.
"Looks like you have practice at that. Bad day?"
Kaidan smiled at his beer bottle, peeling the label a bit. He gave a tiny shrug and took a sip before answering.
"No different than usual, I suppose. Another day, another bad decision by the CEO that I don't like. I'm fighting it, though. I think I can get some of my colleagues to agree with me. Worst decision was hiring him. How about you?"
He took another swallow of his beer and went back to fiddling with the bottle. Shepard watched his hands, neat and well-kept, and figured he must be one of the businessmen types who got manicures. Too damn fussy for his tastes. They did look rather nice, though. It suited him.
"Seems like it'd be hard to stay in business if the head guy always makes bad decisions. My day was alright, just long."
Kaidan smiled warmly at him again, face lighting up.
"We're not hurting for business; let's just say the decisions he makes aren't the ones I personally would. But that's why I'm not in charge. I don't do business stuff well."
Shepard peered at him interestedly over the rim of his mug.
"Oh? What do you do?"
Another self-deprecating smile and sip.
"I, uh...fix things...I like working with my hands. How about you?"
"I work in a call center. It's a living. What do you fix?"
Kaidan furrowed his brows over his beer.
"Oh, this and that...People come to me with their problems and I do what I can to fix 'em." He took a sip. Shepard scoffed.
"That's still pretty vague."
"I like to let people speculate. It's interesting to see what people come up with. So a call center? Not what I would have pictured for such a well-built guy like you, but it takes all kinds, I guess," he chuckled. Shepard tossed a shoulder, but smiled at himself.
"Yeah, I didn't picture it, either. Never thought I'd end up doing it after getting out of the service."
He glanced at him, then nodded towards the dog tags Shepard was wearing. "I did notice your chain and wanted to ask...what branch do you serve?"
"I'm impressed; not many people do. Navy. Well...ex-Navy. Made it to lieutenant before getting out."
He looked over at the dark-haired man. Kaidan was nodding thoughtfully, taking another swig of his beer.
"Well, what do you know? I was with the Marines until I was medically discharged. Gotta love migraines..."
"Huh," Shepard said, running his tongue over a canine. "How about that. Sucks about the migraines, though. Sorry to hear that."
Kaidan grinned at him and spun his bottle on the polished wooden surface.
"How'd you get out?" he asked, "You don't have to say if you don't want; it's fine if you don't."
"Also medical discharge, but I think it was trumped up. I was on the fast track to make it to lieutenant commander, but my CO didn't necessarily like me. They dumped me when I was 25. I was set to be a career man, but you know how it goes." Shepard finished his beer and shoved the mug across for James, signaling for another. The burly man nodded and poured another mug, placing it in front of Shepard.
"Damn. That's, uh...that's really rough, Shepard. Sorry to hear that, too. Ooo-rah." Kaidan tipped his bottle towards the mug. "To being medically fucked up to the people in charge, but fine otherwise." Shepard clinked it with his beer.
"Hoo-yah."
They both drank deeply, lost in their thoughts. Kaidan put his bottle down and reached for the bowl of snacks, elbow knocking into the beer. He scrambled to keep the bottle upright and wound up knocking the bowl over instead. He shook his head, biting his lip again.
"Real smooth, there, Blue...please don't try to do any other fancy tricks tonight. I don't think the bar has enough insurance for the property damage!" came the snarky comment from the other side of the bar.
"Fuck you, too, James!" he called back as he gathered the nuts into a pile, ears red. Shepard chuckled.
"So do you fix things because you break them first?" he teased. Kaidan snorted.
"Job security, I suppose, but no. Besides making fun of strangers you just met in a bar, what do you do for fun?" he said playfully, waggling his eyebrows at the blue eyed man.
Shepard quirked an eyebrow at him, taking a slow draught of his beer.
"Mostly play video games with a couple of buddies of mine. It's a challenge finding something we all like."
"I bet. Which console and games? We might have similar tastes."
"Xbox. Left 4 Dead, Borderlands...Halo. That type of thing."
Kaidan nodded along, peeling the label off his bottle again. The music pounded in the background.
"What about Fable, or Skyrim, or stuff like that? Do you play those?"
"Mmm...not so much," Shepard replied around a drink, "But I do like Skyrim when I need a break from all the space-themed games. Like Galaxy of Fantasy."
The empty beer bottle thumped as it was knocked over. Kaidan stared at him.
"...I love Galaxy of Fantasy," he said. "The way it makes you think, and how fleshed out all the NPCs are...just really well done. I can't remember how many times I've played it; I always find something new."
Shepard turned towards him, leaning his elbow against the bar.
"No shit...wonder if we've ever crossed paths in it before. That would be something, alright."
"Small galaxy after all," Kaidan chuckled, "Wouldn't that be weird if we've met already and didn't know it. Aw, crap, is that the time?" He caught sight of the clock next to one of the neon signs behind James. He pushed the stool back and slid off, pulling out his wallet. "Sorry, gotta run. Early appointment tomorrow. It was nice to meet you, Shepard. Hope I see you around again. You brightened my day."
He gave a small nod to Shepard as he made his way to the cash register. James came back to him after the dark-haired man left and smirked.
"You flirting with him, Loco? Never seen him take to anybody like that before. Or you, for that matter..."
"Even if I was, I don't think he'd be interested. I think he was just lonely and looking for someone to talk to. I just have one of those 'talk to me' faces, I guess," Shepard dismissed, feeling heat rise up the back of his neck.
Vega laughed as he wiped down the bar, shaking his head.
"Don't be too sure, man. I've never seen Blue in here with anybody before, and he usually doesn't talk to many people. When he comes in, I mean, he gets his shot of whiskey and Canadian beer, then is usually gone. I wouldn't exactly call him a regular, but he's here often enough."
"I'm not in the habit of picking up strays."
"Neither is he, for what it's worth. Not that I've seen, anyway. You know how much shit I see here."
"Yeah. Why do you call him 'Blue'?"
James blinked at him, polishing a few glasses.
"You didn't see or hear when he pulled up? Dude has a blue Porsche. Thing is pretty sweet."
Shepard whistled in appreciation.
"Wasn't exactly expecting that, but he did mention a CEO he didn't like. Know what he does specifically? He said he 'fixed stuff' and worked with his hands."
"I dunno. Lawyer? Sales guy? Construction foreman? That'd be using his hands. And they make bank, too."
Shepard snorted, "I dunno. I'm going to say Mafia hit man and that's that. People 'come to him with problems' and he 'takes care of them'." He finished his drink and pulled out his own wallet.
"Hey, Doc, what's got you so damn chipper this morning?" Jack asked, rolling her eyes. Kaidan smirked at her, trying not to blush. That guy's eyes from last night were haunting his memory in how intensely blue they were.
"I had a better night than I thought I would."
"Did you get laid? That always puts me in a decent mood."
"Couldn't prove it by the way you act around me. And not that it's any of your business, but no."
She laughed and threw her pen at him. He playfully tossed it back at her.
"Careful, Hawkeyes! You'll mark me!"
"Like anyone could tell with all your tattoos, Jack."
"I could tell, asshole. That should be reason enough."
Kaidan tapped the computer screen showing hip x-rays, trying to direct his thoughts back on task. That guy, Shepard, was it? His shy smile was replaying constantly in his mind.
"That any way to talk to the person who pays you? I'm thinking this one just needs water and ice therapy; I don't see any structural damage. Off sports for the next three weeks, then see back in the office. What kind of a name is 'Grunt', anyway?"
Jack snickered behind her clipboard.
"Take it up with Wrex. He asked to have him scheduled with you."
"No thanks, I like life. Why didn't he have him scheduled with his own doctor?"
"He's a float. But he likes it when he covers you. Says you're easy to fluster."
"Can you blame me? Guy's huge...makes me wonder what made him decide to be a nurse."
Jack laughed again.
"And his kid is just like him. Probably why he plays football. Anyway, Grunt's real name must be boring, like yours. Still cracks me up that your first name is 'Michael.' I'd go by your middle name, too. Much more interesting."
"Whatever you say, Jack," Kaidan rolled his eyes and flipped the screen off.
"I mean, think about it! You go by 'Kaidan' outside the office, but 'Dr. Michael K. Alenko' professionally. Don't you think that's kind of weird?"
"No. And I'll thank you in advance for leaving it alone."
"...can I call you 'Mikey'?"
He stared at her, one eyebrow arched in disdain.
"I'm gonna do it anyway, so you might as well just say 'yes,' Doc."
Kaidan swatted her with the clipboard as they made their way towards the exam room.
"If you think that's the best way to get my attention, go for it. Can't guarantee I'll respond."
"Hey, Mikey! He likes it! He really likes it!" Jack quipped before sticking her tongue out at him, opening the exam room door with her butt. He rolled his eyes and entered the room.
"So Mr. Urdnot..."