Dinner was waiting for them as they came back up from the crew deck. Today was quiet, no real enemies groundside, and thanks to Garrus' driving, he had no repairs to do on the Mako. The ground team made their way up in the elevator ribbing each other gently, and seeking food.

To Shepard's surprise, Alenko had cooked. He had cooked for everyone, levo and dextro. And he had cooked Shepard's favorite for the humans—spaghetti and meatballs. And from somewhere he had found a giant bottle of powdered reconstituted cheese to spread on top.

While her stomach growled in anticipation—they had been running around planetside all day—she was suspicious. While she always made her rounds and got to know all of her crewmembers, the lieutenant had seemed to read something else into her almost daily meetings with him. He seemed to always ask the personal questions that she was so uncomfortable with. Most of her crewmembers had gathered that Shepard didn't really 'make friends' even though she was always willing to listen, help out whenever she could. Most people had realized that she tended to keep herself fairly private.

But Alenko had not seemed to pick up on that, as sensitive as he portrayed himself. He still asked about her family, what she did outside of the Alliance, asked what she was doing after the next mission—when what she did after each mission was the same, check in with Chakwas and Pressley, type up her mission report, and have dinner with her crew or ground team. Usually she and Garrus and Tali, sometimes Liara or Wrex hung around drinking a few beers until they turned in.

He seemed to smile too much. He acted like he was terribly shy with her, when she could plainly see that he wasn't. She found him to be disingenuous. Occasionally, he made references to how attractive she was, and then played it off as an accidental admission, and she found it rather bothered her. Usually she could ignore someone who didn't understand that she really didn't like talking about herself, didn't like to have friends, could ignore an offhand comment made in conversation, but something about the biotic's overtly shy way of dropping hints that he was interested in her put a bad taste in her mouth. As far as she was concerned physical attraction was a thing fine to indulge in from time to time, but didn't necessarily mean she wanted him hovering over her, assuming some bizarre role as a self-assumed romantic paramour.

She didn't even want romance. She wasn't even sure what it was supposed to be.

Hell, even her shore-leave escapades were chosen by criteria other than looks. She didn't go for looks, and she wasn't interested in people who just wanted to look at her. She wanted some fun. So, she had tried to drop hints that he really wasn't her type. He was too pretty, too nice, too obnoxiously sure of himself, but just as subtle as he was not with his own overtures, she was apparently putting everything too delicately. It reminded her of her old team member, Clyden, but with less machismo.

The ground team filed out of the elevator, and Tali immediately exclaimed her joy at the smell of the food. As far as Tali was concerned, Alenko was coming along well as a chef of quarian cuisine. They had stripped armor down at the armory station in the cargo bay—except for Garrus who didn't seem to own clothing as opposed to armor—so they all crowded around the table and began loading plates of food. As the team began to serve themselves, she couldn't help but cut her eyes to Alenko every time she thought someone might not notice. He kept staring at her.

"You okay?" She jumped at Garrus' voice in her ear. The tone of voice he used was too alike to what he used when they were in the field doing recon and they both just knew something wasn't right

"Fine." She said, hoping he'd drop it. This wasn't the place. He'd obviously picked up on how unsettled Alenko left her with his pointed staring. She hated that she was telegraphing her unease, hated that she was that easy to read... but no one other than the turian seated next to her seemed to have picked up on it. She shook her head, silently signaling him to move on.

"I don't know…" He experimented with a spoonful of sauce and noodles. "Do you think he poisoned it?" She should have known better, she realized. She should have known that not only would Garrus not drop it, but that he'd do something to make her feel better about it. She dropped her face into her arm and tried to laugh silently... cutting her eyes as he flared his mandibles to take a bite of whatever Alenko had prepared for the two dextros. The plate he held in his hand looked like it was possibly an approximation of spaghetti and meatballs, some sort of squirmy noodles smothered in a chunky green sauce.

"Is it safe?" She whispered over her elbow, watching him chew that first—clearly experimental—bite, and then let herself sigh in mock relief as he slowly nodded.

"Doesn't taste like pyjack poison… But it's way too spicy." He winked at her, and she couldn't help the moment of surprise.

"Was that… Did you just wink at me, Garrus Vakarian?"

"Who, me?" He tightened his mandibles in a grin, and walked around her to go sit. There was a cocky hitch to his step that she couldn't help but smile at.

Then she noticed Alenko still staring at her.

That spark of brightness that Garrus left her with immediately soured. This man, she definitely did not trust. Yet she walked up to him with a slight smile on her face and accepted the plate he handed her.

"You're not turning into the cook, are you Alenko?" She asked, hoping to deflect his usual need to have a deep, serious conversation with her with humor—a habit she had probably picked up from her new turian friend.

"Nah, just trying to do what I can to support you guys. Haven't seen much time groundside." He said quietly. She wondered, somewhat exasperated if everyone on the ship was going to bring up her choice of landing parties.

"I figured you'd like the time off. You don't seem like a soldier at heart. You seem a little too…" don't say nice—don't say nice "…nice... to enjoy running around shooting mercs and geth all day." Shit. And he laughed. Shit. Shit. Now he thinks that she's flirting. The back of her mind was screaming "Abort! Abort!" and she quickly obeyed.

She grabbed the ration can of cheese and made her thanks to him.

"Well, thanks for the dinner." She nodded curtly and went to sit at the open spot at the table.

She was really going to have to make him face the fact that she wasn't interested... one of these days. How she dreaded that conversation.

And why was the one empty seat always the one next to Vakarian? She felt her shoulders tighten with tension as she dumped a huge pile of powdered cheese over her meal.

"Are you okay, Shepard?" Tali asked this time, and Shepard tried not to huff. She didn't want to appear even more irritated… or send the powdered cheese flying. She forced herself to exhale slowly, feeling a knot begin to twist itself up in the back of her shoulders.

"Fine!" Shepard asserts brightly. Too cheerful. "Fine." She repeats, hoping it's more believable the second time.

She shoves a mouthful of spaghetti into her mouth and realizes that everyone present is looking at her. Wrex is sitting there with a fork fisted in his massive paw, a bite of spaghetti loaded up… just laughing that unsettling laugh of his.

"Just hungry." Tali accepts that and goes back to her food, but Alenko and Garrus are still staring at her. She sighs, and retreats to her cabin as soon as she's finished eating.

She showers and gets dressed in fatigues, and hears her omni-tool ping with a message. She opens it to find a text from Garrus.

You going to hide in your cabin all night because the lieutenant creeped you out?

She laughed. God. That damn turian had caught her. That really was her plan for the rest of the evening. And he knew. He fucking knew.

She was about to get angry and assert that that was not at all what she was planning to do, and she was just getting ready to come bring some beers down to the cargo hold so they could mess with gun mods and the targeting system on the Mako... and why in the hell was he rushing her already, did he miss her that badly?

..when she realized that was probably exactly the reaction he wanted.

She sat down. If he was trying to play her, she could play back. Her hand hovered over the screen of her omni-tool, composing the best message she could.

Not exactly.

His reply came just a moment later.

Not exactly what? Not exactly creeped out? Or not exactly hiding?

Perfect.

Not exactly hiding. When are you going to fish out that bottle of whiskey? I have a deck of cards that are calling our names.

His reply this time took a few minutes.

On my way.

She smiled.

Gotcha.