This chapter was inspired by the wonderful Jadzaea. Credit where it's due. ^_^

-J-

"We need to talk," Shepard said, and winced. "Well…not like that, just…talk-talk."

Alenko regarded her mildly. Whatever it was must be pretty personal, because Shepard only tended to lose her social grace when a matter was. "What would you like to talk about?" he asked.

Shepard sat down on the couch, wincing as she did so. While released from quarters, she still had some recovery to work to endure. The bruising was hideous, though mostly hidden by her clothes. "First, thanks for the shirt. It's much better than mine." She plucked at the teeshirt which, on her, swamped her frame. But, unlike her own more fitted clothing, it didn't rub against the bruises and healing lacerations quite as much.

It had also been washed to the point of being very soft and, if her memory served her, the ratty quality of the sleeves suggested this was a favored garment. Kian's favorite shirts tended to have a similar pattern of wear.

"What's a boyfriend for, if not to lend out his shirts?" Alenko grinned.

Shepard smiled back, a softened look that said lending a shirt was simply the most recent thing she appreciated about her boyfriend at the moment. She curled up as best she could. "Secondly…we need to talk about you, me, and Wrex."

"Hello, left field," Alenko said blankly.

"I know. But…well…" Shepard shifted. "Look, we're…cohabitating…for the next few weeks, he's going to find out about it one way or another, and I just don't want him ambushing you with anything else," she said in a rush. "That thing with the water was funny but…" she leaned forward and touched his knee. "I don't want him making a habit of it just because he can."

Alenko nodded, regarding her worried expression. "So is this a 'cuddle me on the couch conversation', or is it really serious?"

Shepard's mouth quirked. "I dunno. Are you offering?"

Alenko shifted so he was sprawled on the couch and waved Shepard to join him, which she gingerly did, scooting into place. He wrapped his arms loosely around her, hands clasped over her stomach. Once she was settled, her back to his chest, she held up a greenish-yellow leather bag so they could both see it.

"When Wrex said he was my brother at the front desk to get into the hospital? He wasn't bullshitting. He adopted me after we cured the Genophage. Formally. So…Urdnot Shepard on Tuchanka. I can own property, or serve in the army. All that stuff."

Alenko blinked, unsure what to say to this for a moment. "Wait…so…" So she was legally a krogan citizen? That was…awesome?

"Yeah. I'm afraid he's a permanent fixture on the periphery of my life." She sighed. "He'll spare me the bullshit, but apparently you're still free game."

Alenko was a little surprised Wrex hadn't rubbed the fact in already, with the krogan version of the 'shotgun and a shovel' speech. "So what's this?" he indicated the bag.

"It was given to me after Grunt's Rite. I told you about that, didn't I?"

"Thesher maw on foot, with a friend in heels," Alenko answered.

Shepard nodded, opening the bag. "You're supposed to keep things in it. Things of personal significance. Honors. Trophies. Reminders. Usually, they stay with the Clan Shaman, but it's not uncommon to carry it around oneself." She produced a piece of tech which he remembered had been given to her on Rannoch. Legion's heart. It was surprisingly compact. "Shaman Bakara gave me this," she held up a yellow crystal chunk. "To remind me that there's always a way out, if I can find it." She turned the crystal, the light jumping around on its flat faces.

"A light in dark places, when all other lights go out."

Shepard chuckled, putting the crystal aside. "This is one of the roots they had us chew before the Rite. It's supposed to stimulate blood rage in krogan, but for humans…Miranda and I were coming down for days."

There was more in the bag. A black chess knight, which he recognized as the match to the one at the Normandy's memorial wall. A small seashell in a resin orb. A piece of folded paper, clearly torn from a book, which she opened. "It's Tennyson," Shepard said without prompting. "Crossing the Bar."

"Williams liked Tennyson."

"She did." Shepard carefully refolded the paper; Alenko sensed the deep sadness in Shepard as if it radiated palpably from her.

"Do you keep any of the living in there?" he asked quietly.

Shepard sighed. "I try not to weep for those not yet dead; better they have their time of life." She twisted so he could see the bittersweet expression on her face. "I try to keep my living close, and don't put them in a bag until I have to."

Alenko kissed her neck. "Good philosophy." She had too many dead in her past. They were alone, so he took full advantage of the moment to wrap his arms a little tighter around her…

…until she gave a soft 'ow' and squirmed, elbowing him to loosen his grip.

"Sorry," he said abashed.

"Don't be. I'd rather have a bear hug than a—anything else."

He heard the hitch that indicated she'd meant to say something else. "Than what?"

Shepard sighed, putting everything back, in the bag before setting the bag on an empty patch of cushion. She shifted so she could rest on her side. He thought she was going to ignore the question, but then she sighed again and mumbled, "Than a cold shoulder. I'm glad you're here, Alenko."

"It's just us," he reminded her, taking on the lines of her face. "It's okay to use my name."

Shepard chuckled, opening her bright eyes. There were so many shadows behind them, so many burdens…but there was still a sparkle of something. Not happiness, it was too fragile for that, but maybe just momentary contentment. "So we are. Alright Kaidan—I'm really glad you're here."

"Me too. I love you, Jalissa."