Author's Notes: Word of warning, because I'm just making up the plot as I go, I may fiddle with the ratings and categories as I go along. There will probably be a rewrite when I'm done. Nothing affecting major events, but a reformatting of the chapters for a better narrative flow. Well, nothing to worry about until the end.

I really need to get to the seducing. Nope, have some character development instead.

Commander Shepard is a damn mystery.

Traynor has trouble finding the information she wants about Shepard's past. She could ask the commander herself, but since Shepard is spending several days in the infirmary after that heated mission to Grissom Academy, the specialist thinks it might be easier to read up on her than risk the commander's hospitalized wrath.

Most of the information and photos still out there are of the commander's achievements during her training years, the defence of Elysium, or the battle of the Citadel. The ones surrounding her death and her trial on Earth seem to have disappeared or have been heavily censored on both the extranet and the Alliance military database. None of the available data gives Traynor what she wants to know.

She did find some holos of Shepard's mother at the commander's funeral two years back. She is instantly fascinated by her.

Captain Hannah Shepard is dressed in her formal whites. She is standing in front of Shepard's casket while hundreds of soldiers and civilians are standing around her, the military men and women holding their hands to their foreheads in an united salute. The casket is clean and white. It's empty.

Traynor remembers hearing that the original Normandy had been blown apart so thoroughly that the clean-up ground crew had to bring crates of small containers to pick up the remains. Bodies included.

They couldn't find a speck of Shepard's. All they had to present to her mother were the commander's dog tags. The specialist can't imagine how horrible it must be for the captain to not even have a shred of her daughter to bury. Traynor doesn't think she could manage it if she was in her place.

In most of the holos, Captain Hannah's face is impassive, her bearing upright, and her demeanour almost regal. Everyone in the holos seem to treat her with the utmost respect, and Traynor's sure that not all of it is from sympathy or compassion. It's not until she approaches the commander's casket that the captain shows awareness of the fact she's burying her only child.

In a single holo captured at just the right moment, Captain Hannah can be seen with one hand on the white, plain box while her head is turned away from the camera. A corner of her mouth is visible though, and it is wrenched down in grief. Her head is not so much as bowed as sagging on her chest. Her shoulders are slightly slumped. She looks broken.

A shot a second later shows the captain standing tall again. The grief is gone. The mask is back. She can be seen striding away from the casket with her head high, her demeanour dignified and strong. The glimpse of weakness almost seems imagined if it isn't for the look in her eyes. It makes her seem as if she's aged too much and too suddenly.

Traynor finds the images frightening and fascinating at the same time. Save for the streaks of grey in her dark hair and the crow's feet lining her eyes, Captain Hannah looks exactly like her daughter from the firm line of her mouth to her authoritative stance. At first glance, Traynor would have assumed it is the commander standing there, saying goodbye to her mother. It hurts the specialist to know otherwise.

Save for that one faltering moment, it's hard to say that the commander's death affected the captain at all. Shepard must be proud of such a strong mother. The specialist knows her own would be in pieces if she had to bury Traynor.

The rest of holos and news items cycle past in a blur. There's nothing else that even remotely touches upon the commander's personal life. There are a few snippets of her childhood aboard ships as a military brat, but nothing interesting, nothing "juicy" for a lack of a better word. The specialist's recent conversations with Shepard have been relegated to either updates about work or chats about nothing in general. Shepard doesn't offer anything about her past. Traynor can't help but wonder why when she's so upfront about everything else.

Traynor knows she's being rather nosy, but when she looks at the commander, there's something about her that makes it hard to look away. She doesn't know if it's the expression in her eyes or casual grace in her movements, but there's something intriguing there. It's as if something in her is always moving, shifting, reflecting, blocking. The commander is like an ever-changing puzzle, challenging and taunting the specialist to solve her. Sometimes, Traynor wishes Shepard was a chess board. At least then, she'd know what moves to make to score her king.

Not that Shepard is a king or anything. She's more queenly like her mother-capable, powerful, able to use most positions, and-

That thought goes somewhere bad. Traynor struggles not to follow it.

She sifts through yet another glowing article about the commander's bravery and skill at the Blitz. She yawns. Her break is almost over. These articles aren't helping. She decides that the best way to find out about the mysterious commander is to either ask her or her friends.

Of course, since Shepard's fuming in the medbay, Traynor thinks it's best to try her friends first.

The turian sniper Shepard brought on board from Palaven seems to know her well. Most of the turians Traynor has worked with in the past had been uptight, strict, and incredibly disciplined to the point of lacking a sense of humour. She can't tell if Vakarian is the same. She doesn't talk to him much. Actually, she hasn't talked to him ever. She guesses now would be a good time to start.

Traynor approaches him in the main battery under the guise of asking if he has any requisition orders in mind. It doesn't hurt that she actually needs to do that anyways.

"Excuse me, officer Vakarian-"

"It's just Garrus. No need for formalities on the Normandy. I get enough of that from my ground teams on Palaven." He flicks through his screens without looking at her.

Traynor continues smoothly. "Of course. I'm Comm. Specialist Traynor, and I'd like to know if there are any requisition orders you'd like me to put in for you."

"Can you get better dextro food? "

"Unfortunately, that's not within my authority to order. Alliance brass has determined our current supplier is sufficient enough in terms of quality and price."

"Damn. Cheap Alliance bastards."

"Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"Not at the moment. Is Shepard out yet?"

"Dr. Chakwas wants her there for the next couple of hours. Seems that having three bullets lodged in your shoulder blade is considered serious in her book." Traynor pauses. Now seems as good a time as any to find out about Shepard. "Have you known the commander long?"

"Long enough."

"Has she always been so reckless?"

"Mostly. She got a little crazier after that whole dying fiasco. She said that it was like a bee sting to her. Once you get one, you're no longer afraid of going through another. I don't know what bees are, but anything that stings you sounds bad."

Vakarian isn't as reticent as she expects, but he's sharp. The way his eyes dart over to her from time to time puts her on a cautious alert. Traynor chooses her next words carefully. "You'd think she'd try a little harder to stay alive, especially if she has someone to live for."

"Well, that…I don't know. Shepard has always been unpredictable. As for someone to live for, Shepard would probably say she has everyone to live for." Garrus pauses. "Or maybe it's more she has everyone to die for."

Traynor doesn't want to hear that. "So, no special someone?"

Garrus stops his typing and looks at her. "Why the curiosity?"

"I'm an Alliance soldier. We're nosy busy-bodies."

He shakes his head. "And that's why I never tell just anybody how my day's going. Who knows how far it could spread that the guns are calibrated perfectly?"

Traynor stares at him. It takes her a while to realize that he seems to be smiling. A turian with a sense of humour. Shepard does meet the strangest people. "Oh, that was a joke."

"Who said I was kidding?"

She's sure he's teasing her. Kind of. She pushes on to her next question.

"So, Shepard doesn't have anyone serious in her life to fight for?"

"I wouldn't say that. I'm pretty serious with Shepard."

"I meant people who count. Romantically."

"Ouch. That wasn't very nice of you."

Traynor shrugs. "Sometimes, I'm not. Depends on the person. Depends if they catch my eye."

"…are you coming onto me, Specialist?"

"No! I mean, not that you're unattractive or anything. You're just not my type." In so many ways.

"What is your type then?"

The conversation has gone a weird direction. Traynor tries to play along anyways.

"Smart, competent, pretty…"

"EDI's got a body now."

"Someone a bit more warm, preferably."

"I'm sure you could warm her up."

"Yes…well…can we move away from the topic of EDI and her body?" Traynor doesn't want to explain this conversation later to EDI if she is listening.

"Sure thing. Was there anything else?"

"I was just wondering…what the commander is into when she's not rescuing biotic students from mad Cerberus troops?"

"Hmm, let's see. She also spends a lot of time shooting at things, blowing up things, yelling at things, and running away from big, exploding things."

"Fascinating. The commander is truly a woman of many hobbies."

Vakarian's mandibles twitch. Traynor thinks he looks amused. That's good. Maybe she can get more info out of him that way. "So, is that all you and the commander talk about when you're together? Blowing up things? Shooting at them?"

"We also talk about how to survive suicide missions. That topic was very popular for a while."

"Is that really it?"

"Ah, well, Shepard and I also like to compare stats."

"On what?"

"On our favourite models."

"Of guns?"

Garrus leans in close. "Let's just say that Shepard appreciates the same kinds of beauties that I do. Loyal, sleek, and gorgeous. Beautifully oiled too. Nothing sounds better than the purr of your baby as you savour that last moment before you've popped your heat sink.

"Of course, you'd think Shepard and I would have dissimilar preferences, since our bodies are different, but the general idea is the same. We like the way the girls feel in our hands, the way they sing when we press all the right parts. Shepard's very good at getting hers to scream when she works them up in the heat of things."

"…we are talking about guns, right?"

"Of course."

Yes. That is obviously what they are both thinking about.

Garrus cocks his head at her. "You never answered me. Why all the interest in Shepard?'

"Wouldn't anyone be? Shepard is pretty. Unique, I mean. Pretty unique."

He looks at her. Something comes into his eyes, and Traynor doesn't like the way they suddenly shine. "Oh, ho," he says softly.

What? Is it something Traynor said? Oh, god, please don't let it be something Traynor said.

Vakarian turns to face her fully. "I wondered what all the questions were about."

"They're about finding more about my commanding officer. Shepard is the most fascinating human in the galaxy right now."

"But why not ask her directly? I'm sure Shepard would give some interesting answers as to what her preferences are, her history."

Traynor doesn't like the look on his face. It bodes nothing good for her.

"You know, I've really got to ask the others for their requisition orders. Would love to chat more, but duty calls."

Vakarian's eyes seem to twinkle. "No need to rush. Let's just call Shepard from here and ask her right now."

"I'm sure the commander has better things to do than-"

Vakarian presses a button on his console. The commander's grumpy mumbling can be heard on the channel. "Hey, Shepard. Traynor's here with me, and she wants to ask you about what kind of girls-"

"See you later, Garrus. I need to talk to Joker and-"

Traynor flees the main battery. She's terrified that Vakarian might follow her, but he doesn't. She takes a few moments to slow her frantic heartbeats. Is Vakarian just messing with her? Maybe he didn't actually say anything to Shepard. Or maybe he blurted out all his unfounded assumptions out to the commander, and work will be extremely awkward from now on with the both of them trying to avoid the subject. Well, they're not that unfounded. If anything, they are pretty astute-

Stop that, Traynor. NOT HELPING.

Traynor doesn't have proof of anything yet. That's her problem. She'll deal with this potential dilemma in a professional manner. She'll wait until Shepard brings it up herself. That sounds perfect. Traynor is obviously not stalling the inevitable and uncomfortable discussion. Good. Glad, she can agree with herself on that.

She passes by the medbay's window where she can feel Shepard's eyes tracking her through the glass. The commander's gaze makes Traynor feel as if she's walking under a spotlight in front of thousands of judging spectators. Whatever Vakarian said must have been brief, because the commander is no longer talking on the communication channels. She watches the specialist with those relentless eyes.

Traynor wants the staring to stop. She's not sure of what to say to get it so. She waves instead.

Shepard starts in surprise but she waves back until Dr. Chakwas reprimands her for using her injured shoulder. The scowl that blossoms on Shepard's face is adorable. Traynor doesn't stay to look at it too long. She makes her escape while she can.

Operation Interrogate Vakarian is a bust. Perhaps, EDI and Joker would be a better source of information. Perhaps, it would even be easy.

Even as she walks to the bridge, Traynor knows that simply isn't true.

With Joker, nothing is easy.