Title: Food

Pairing: None, but F!Shepard and Vega get their flirt on.

Warnings: Mutual flirting. Sexy late night cooking.

Summary: Shepard can sleep and goes looking for a midnight snack while she's detained on Earth.

Word Count: 1.1k

The apartment was silent as she crept from her bedroom. Being detained on Earth was endless frustrating. The days were long and boring, the nights were lonely and empty. It was too quiet and still to sleep in the absurd accommodations in which she had been placed during her house arrest.

She had been reading one of the trashy romance novels Kasumi had given her in bed for the last two hours when her stomach began to growl. Although she ignored it at first, before long hunger drove her from her bed and into the kitchen. Setting the book on the counter, she opened the fridge to search for an easy snack.

Cooking was never one of her strong suits. It was a skill she unfortunately hadn't learned as part of her career as a soldier. Vega had done well making sure she had healthy options at hand, but none of them sounded good in the middle of the night. As she crouched and leaned into the open fridge, banging and rummaging around, the bedroom door at the opposite end of the apartment opened.

"Commander?" Vega asked sleepily, "What are you doing?"

"Can't sleep and was looking to for a snack." Her head poked up from the door, but she froze at the sight of shirtless James, wearing only his Alliance issue sweatpants.

He arched a brow in her direction as he caught her eyes raking over his body. "My eyes are up here, Shepard."

She blushed at his teasing comment and she buried her face back in the appliance. Instead of returning to his quarters, James padded to the edge of the counter and watched her. Feeling his presence didn't help her embarrassment. Then he noticed her book.

"'Love's Savage Secret.'" He commented, picking it up and reading the back. "'In order to stop an assassination at the Milan spring show, fashion designer Rebecca must go undercover with secret agent Vincenzo'-"

Shepard snatched the book from his grasp and tucked it under her arm. Flashing him a playfully grumpy look, she resumed her search for a snack.

"I never pegged you for the bodice ripping type." He chided playfully.

She signed and looked at him mortified. "I'm usually not. A friend gave me a few because I had trouble sleeping after being brought back to life. They're terrible and ridiculous, but campy and enjoyable."

He sat on the counter and extended his hand, requesting it back but she gave him an exasperated look. "Oh, come on. I'll be nice."

Rolling her eyes, she tossed him the worn novel and resumed her hunt. He began reading aloud that the dashing Vincenzo racing after beautiful Rebecca when she was kidnapped by the world be assassin.

Abandoning the fridge, Shepard moved to the pantry. Hope bloomed when she found a jar of salsa but was dashed that they had no chips. Annoyed she settled for a box of soda crackers. James looked up when she popped the seal on the jar and opened sleeve.

"What are you doing?" He asked with near disgust as she dipped a square cracker in the salsa and ate it.

"What? I'm hungry." She shrugged and went for another.

He grabbed the jar away, "Sheaprd, that's offensive. You seriously can find something better?"

"It's the best I got. I don't cook."

It was his turn to sigh as he tossed the book back to her and opened the fridge. "You'd be lost without me."

She hopped onto his vacated spot on the counter and watched him pull out eggs, an avocado, onion, and jalapeños. From a pantry he retrieved some tortillas and from a different drawers, a cutting board and frying pans. He turned and stood in front of her and nodded to the drawer her legs obstructed.

Feeling flirtatious, thanks to Love's Savage Secret and his half naked cooking, she shifted her legs wider rather than move them. A crooked, incredulous grin pulled at his face as he pulled it open to retrieve a chef's knife. She watched as he chopped and sliced with practiced ease, clearly comfortable in the kitchen.

"You're good with your hands." She noted playfully.

"You have no idea." He chuckled as added the onion and jalapeño into the hot pan and it sizzled.

With a shuffle of the pan, he tossed the contents up and caught them several times. As they cooked, he cut the avocado in half and slice it, then set the second fry pan to heat. Once it was hot, he added a tortilla and let it warm. From a cabinet he removed two plates. Moving the onions and peppers to the side, he cracked four eggs into the pan one handed while flipping the tortilla, removing it, and adding another.

As the eggs fries, he retrieved a spoon from the same drawer as the knife, gave Shepard a wink, and resumed his work. Once the tortillas were adorned with slices of perfectly ripe avocad, he slid two eggs onto each tortilla, followed the onions and jalapeño. Lastly, he generously lavished salsa across the golden yokes of the sunny side up eggs.

Shepard looked at the plate and nearly drooled down her chin. "Where did you learn to do that?"

With a smile, he slid the plates to the other side of the counter where they could sit to eat. "My abuelita taught me. She loved to cook for her family, but refused to let the boys skate through life without learning a few things."

Shepard smirked at the anecdote as she took his offered fork and dug in. She practically moaned st the wonderful flavors. James chuckled at her response as she inhaled the plate. Taking his time, he decided to come continue enjoying her company.

He gestured to her book. "So, I'm kind of invested now. What happens to Rebecca and Vincenzo?"

"Oh, come on." She blushed. "You can't be serious."

"No, I really am. Do they save the ambassador?" He genuinely asked, taking a bite.

"Well, I guess I could read until you're done eating, as a thank you."

She opened to the marked page and resumed reading aloud as James ate. Both became engrossed and moved to the couch. Shepard sat against the arm, with her knees bent to her chest. James draped a blanket over her legs and his lap, sitting with his body facing hers.

As she read aloud, deep yawns rose and fell in her chest. Eventually she tested her head against the couch and fell asleep. James smiled and took the book from her hands, marking the page for next time. He easily carried her bed and tucked her in. Smiling as he returned to his quarters, he reminded himself to send Abuelita a message in the morning, thanking her for the cooking lessons.