Shepard's head was hazy in a way most would describe as pleasant but which she found nearly intolerable. She hated not being in control and the fuzziness represented just that. She'd have protested or groused to herself about it if she'd felt a little more lucid.

But, she decided as she started moving towards the surface of true consciousness, she was very comfortable. She was warm, which hadn't been the case when the doc hopped her up on that…stuff…whatever it was. It would be so easy to slide back into sleep…

…except she'd been asleep after a major engagement and all she could think, suddenly, was of the number of times some military operation suffered because the CO—the OIC, the President, the Man in the Hat, whatever—was asleep and not to be disturbed. She needed to check up on everyone, make sure the quarians were playing nicely with the geth and that stupid people weren't stupid…

She found her arms and moved to push herself to sitting only to find her right arm immediately hampered…and herself unable to put her elbow down to brace herself for sitting up.

She had to stop and think about that.

She opened her eyes, squinting in preparation for light but found the fish tanks turned to a low setting and none of the overhead lights on.

She also found that the reason her arm had been hampered was because she would have been sticking her elbow into Alenko's side. She didn't blame him for not wanting that: her elbows were sharp. "Alenko?" she blinked at this, trying to piece a few things together.

Damn the meds…

"Yeah. How're you feeling?" he asked, setting aside the datapad he'd been examining. He sat propped up on one of the big pillows and had clearly been there for some time.

"I can't think right," she griped. His presence explained why she'd felt so warm and comfortable…and now that she'd moved a little away, the cold was trying to come back. It wasn't as bad, but given the choice…

"How's the headache?"

"I don't feel it. How long have I been out?" Time seemed even more wibbly than usual. It could have been several minutes or several months…except she would probably feel more rested after several months.

"A couple hours," Alenko answered. "Not as long as Dr. Chakwas would like, I think."

She would blame it on the drugs if blame needed to be apportioned. "I'm cold." With this, she rolled onto her side and snuggled back up against Alenko…which was probably what she'd been doing before she woke up.

He slipped his arm under her neck, then tangled the fingers of his free hand in the hand she wasn't sure what to do with.

"How's the fleet?" Shepard asked.

Alenko sighed, a gesture which felt expansive given where she had her head. "It's as fine as can be expected. No one's shooting at each other, yet. And, before you ask, the only Admiral aboard is Tali. Huh. Admiral Tali'Zorah…" he seemed to roll the words around as if they were hard to get used to.

"At least the quarians have one smart person helping run the show," Shepard grumbled. It was too hard, though, to work up any real irritation.

"It's weird. I still remember her as a kid."

Shepard had just enough lucidity not to point out why. Instead, she gave a noncommittal hum and adjusted her position. Instead, "You stayed."

There was a silence which made her shift so she could see his face, propping herself on her pinned arm as best she could. His expression was clouded as though choosing his words very carefully. "You took down a Reaper on foot," he said, and succeeded in sounding firm rather than accusatory. "So yeah, I stayed."

The squeeze he gave her finished a thought that was too complex for words and would distort if he tried to turn it into words.

Shepard settled down again, letting her eyes drift closed, letting her mind relax as she listened to Alenko breathe, felt his chest rise and fall, reminded again how warm he was—she didn't know if it was a biotic thing or not—and that he smelled fantastic.

"So what's everyone doing?"

"Since I'm up here with you, Vega put his big-boy boots on and is the voice of the Alliance. Since he's your protégé the only person giving him crap is Joker."

Shepard chuckled at this. Joker gave crap to everyone.

"And he's got Garrus as a wingman, so your ship is in good hands. Allers put in a request for a word with you when you're feeling better." Alenko paused thoughtfully. "I liked Battlespace. Never thought I'd be so okay with a reporter on-station, though."

Shepard nodded. Allers minded herself and Shepard could admit that having Allers present was not the awful ordeal she'd expected. It showed that Allers was used to dealing with the military and their prejudices, her thick skin and understanding of where the servicemen came from allowing her to integrate fairly painlessly. "And?" she prompted when Alenko seemed to think she was asleep.

"And I think your bear is irritated that I'm over here and he's not."

"Right."

Alenko chuckled at this, then brushed his lips against her forehead, teasing his fingers free from hers long enough to hitch her blankets higher around her shoulders.

"Do that again," Shepard found herself mumbling.

Alenko complied. "I love you," he whispered against her skin.

"Again…a little more southerly." Apparently she wasn't as far out of the pull of the medications as she thought. The simple slowing of her thoughts, comfort and security in her situation, were enough to send her sifting slowly back to the seabed of sleep.

Alenko placed a kiss on her cheekbone, then breathed into her ear, "Go back to sleep. I'll try to be here when you wake up."

They weren't the goodnight kiss she really wanted, but she was slipping away too fast to—