December 2nd

"Good morning, Shep," Garrus trilled.

Kate Shepard stretched in the massive king-sized bed, opening one eye. Seeing him in the doorway, she snorted laughter into one curled hand, then quickly hid her amusement with a yawn when he looked at her sharply. Somewhere, somehow, the big turian had found an apron. It came to about mid-thigh, it was pink with ruffles, and he didn't appear to be wearing anything under it.

"That's quite an apron, big guy. Did you lose your all your other clothes?" Shep asked.

"Turians don't tend to wear much in the home. But I know how you humans sometimes feel about cooking naked, for some reason." He shrugged, the dishes rattling on the breakfast tray he carried.

Shepard grinned. "Yeah, I think that's more an issue with people who have little hairs right at stove-level."

"You mean the—ewww, Shep, why?" Garrus pulled a face, nearly dropping the tray.

"Well, you seemed to be asking me why!" She buried her face in the pillows, laughing. He just looked so horrified sometimes when she explained human things.

"I wasn't. Now are you going to be nice, or shall I go toss your breakfast out?" He turned, making as if to leave again.

"No, come back. I'll be nice." Shepard sat up in bed, tucking the blanket down around her waist. "What'd you bring me?" she asked, making grabby hands.

"French toast, bacon, waffles, orange juice, pancakes, cocoa—"

"Oh, my god, you found cocoa? With marshmallows, too?" Shepard grabbed the mug, greedily downing the chocolate-and-marshmallow soup. It was the little luxuries you missed most in wartime, she had found. Hot chocolate. Dry socks. Comfortable underwear.

"Not to mention, the French toast, waffles, pancakes, cereal…." Garrus's mandibles flailed slowly in apparent disappointment.

Shepard reached out to squeeze his hand. "Garrus, it looks perfect. Just, you know. Maybe next time, don't make all the carb options for one meal."

"Well, I followed this food pyramid thing… it said you need eleven of these a day. I don't know what you omnivores eat," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Tell you what, big guy …. I'll clear my plate, if you promise to help me work off all these calories …." Her hand crept up his thigh, edging towards the apron strings at his waist.

"No, you don't." Garrus scrambled to his feet, backing away until she couldn't reach him. "You're on bed rest. Absolutely no hanky-panky."

Hanky-panky? Shepard's eyes went wide, but she fought against the rising giggles, trying on bedroom eyes instead. "Are you really telling me 'no?'" She tilted her chin down, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

Garrus squirmed in the doorway, keeping his eyes locked on the ceiling. "Until you are one hundred percent better, I am telling you 'no.'"

Damn, he's on to me. Shepard sighed, then patted the bed. "Come on, sit with me. I'll behave," Shep promised.

Garrus approached warily, as if not trusting her at her word, and perched on the edge of the bed.

Kate Shepard had no intention of scaring him off, though. The war was finally over, she had her bondmate here with her, making breakfast in bed …. They could wait for all the other stuff.

Hanky-panky, she thought again, giggling into her waffles.