Beta-read by Saberlin.

-J-

Shepard, freshly showered and ready to hit the rack, dragged herself into the quiet mess to find Alenko steadily plowing through enough dinner for two. For a moment she had to think about it, but her (painfully short) mental fact-sheet on biotics surfaced.

High caloric use equals high caloric intake.

He was also wearing sunglasses. Indoors. He was the only one in the mess, and it was a little dark in here…

"You okay, Alenko?" The stupid question seemed to jump out of her mouth.

Alenko's lips twitched, his fork prodding his food. "Photophobia." Shepard recognized the word, and several contexts for its occurrence. The knowledge must not have showed on her face, because Alenko added, "Last vestiges of a migraine. It's okay—it wears off."

"Okay." She could not think of anything better to say. She got her supper and sat down, poking at the spaghetti speculatively. "Do you have a moment?"

Alenko mentally shook his head. Firstly, he usually preferred to eat by himself, especially when his migraines started acting up. Secondly, she was the higher-ranked officer. If she wanted to talk, even small talk, it was her prerogative. "Why not?"

Shepard twirled herself a forkful of pasta. "Um…this is awkward, so I'll be blunt. I've never worked with a biotic before."

"Not surprising." The statement, wholly untroubling, reminded him of someone propping a door open.

Shepard continued twirling pasta around her fork. "I don't know what questions to ask…so I'm going to ask you to tell me what it is you can do…so I don't have to keep shouting 'do that thing!' at you every time things heat up."

Alenko could not repress a chuckle.

"Definitely not one of my most articulate moments?" She made it a question, but smiled as well. It sounded so funny in retrospect.

"What do you know already…?" Alenko eyed her closely, unsure where he should start. She was intelligent, technologically savvy, and very articulate, but that did not mean she wanted to start with a line before moving on to a square.

"Pretend I don't know anything, past how you get to be one."

It was like starting in the middle. He cast about for the most immediately useful piece of information. "I can't read minds."

"Failed that in basic too, did you?" Shepard knew this was a popular superstition, and so showed that she thought it ridiculous.

"Yeah…" Alenko poked his spaghetti. How many times had he heard that joke? Biotics had to be careful with it, though. "You want combat application, right?"

Shepard caught the discomfort deftly. "That's an awfully tiny box, Lieutenant." She was pushing the right buttons, and she knew it. One did not have to be a genius to guess this would be an awkward topic, and she suspected there were underlying issues she was neither aware of, nor authorized to look for. "You break this stuff down into categories and skill sets, right?" Alenko nodded. Of course, even clothes got broken down into categories. "Start there."

The conversation lasted well over an hour—though Shepard paused often enough to give Alenko a chance to eat between questions. The whole range of topics was utterly fascinating, in the same vein as the fascination she might feel hearing a dancer's or ice skater's explanation of their chosen art.

This impression was not lost on Alenko. Admittedly, he still felt a seed of suspicion about anyone with so many questions, an old habit acquired over the years. This suspicion eased when twice she came very close to uncomfortable topics, recognized it, apologized for being nosy, before falling back to a more general topic.

Shepard did not know it, but all the effort she put into keeping this conversation light, casual, and friendly did not show in the slightest. She would have been pleased to know, but she did not. All she did know was more than she did at the outset, and that her list of questions about biotics was drastically shorter.

In her memory, sun bouncing off a shiny metal surface glittered in memory-jogging clarity. "So…let me ask you this…" Shepard launched into the narrative, sparing him superfluous details like 'where' and 'when'.

While Shepard related the attack of the training weight, Alenko's smile became fixed, as he realized she was extremely earnest, despite the casual phraseology she used in during the narration.

With the training of Alliance biotics on Alliance-controlled installations (instructors being 'guests'), it made sense she would have run into something like that. But someone would either have to be rookie-green or showing off to lose a weight like that….it was unbelievable. Someone was showing off, irresponsibly at that. Biotics never started with a weight that heavy, much less with the ability to throw it around indiscriminately.

"So that training weight…?" Shepard prompted, noticing Alenko's expression change from bemusement to absolute disgust for someone who ought to know better.

"It would have killed you," he answered matter-of-factly. Shepard made a face, but did not seem too shocked, leaving Alenko to suppose she anticipated the answer. He looked down at his plate as silence descended. "So, uh, you always ask this many questions?" Alenko asked. Not that he minded. Shepard made the conversation about the intricacies and uses of biotics sound like…like discussing some shared recreation, or an item of note in the Navy Times.

It was probably one of the most comfortable conversations on the topic he could recall having. One of the very few that did not leave him feeling—though he never showed it—like a circus freak. There were still days.

Shepard's eyes glittered. Getting so many answers to so many questions in such a short time, (time passed quite pleasantly) put her in as impish mood as Shepard ever got. "I figured I'd better do a little research, rather than rely on it works by magic when referencing biotics."

Alenko did not know it was possible to spray food though this nose, but he nearly proved the feasibility of it.

-J-

For the event Shepard brought up, see "Cause and Effect 48: Magic"