Evil Power Hungry Cow

Joker rolled his eyes. "You should reprogram that thing," he said waving around his spork. A pea skipped off at his gesticulating and rolled over to Pressly's side of the table. Ashley wondered if she should take cover before Joker's peas flew at her. The LT had already taken off for higher ground as soon as the first pea had hit his tray. By the look on the helmsman's face, the first one had been unintentional. The second one—tossed casually at the back of Alenko's head—had not. The pause in Alenko's stride and the sharp intake of air had made Joker grin and both Pressly and Ashley rolled their eyes heavenward. Alenko's gait had increased as he headed for the officers' quarters.

Pressly looked up from his data pad with mild disinterest. "I know I'm going to regret this," he lamented. But: "'Reprogram' what?"

Joker took a pea from his spork and tossed it at Pressly. It bounced off the XO's bald spot and onto Ashley's tray. Ew. Pressly sighed dramatically and turned his attention back to his data pad muttering under his breath. Ashley's frown deepened, eyes darkening. Did the idiot not realize they had lost members of the crew? He hadn't acted this way way when that kid Jenkins had died. She huffed and flicked the pea out of her chow space. It skittered across the table onto the floor where the little floor bot brushed it away.

"Huh," Joker mused, "two birds, one pea." There was a faint light of humor in his eyes but other than that he was just as unreadable as he usually was.

"Your antics will come around and bite you in the ass one day, Joker," Pressly told him, eying him critically. "I could hold a Captain's Mast in your honor."

"You are totally on my 'No fun' list," Joker replied and shoveled food into his mouth, the Alliance-issue cap on his head blocking his eyes from the view of his fellow crew mates.

Pressly rolled his eyes turning his attention back to his data pad. "That's what you said the second day of this cruise." He reached for his coffee and took a swig.

"Yeah, well," the helmsman grumbled around his chow. "Just reminding you."

Ashley finally had enough of Joker's mouth and stood, dumping her tray into the incinerator and stalking off.

It was the day after Dawson's memorial service. No one was in high spirits—with the exception of Joker. He was too busy making googly eyes at Hendricks. How they found time or the way to feel each other up without breaking Joker or getting caught—That thought made Ashley all but stomp to the elevator. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.

Shepard hadn't been seen since the day before, just after the service, and Pressly announced this morning that their CO was taking a personal day and didn't wish to be disturbed. For the first time since the start of the tour, Commander Shepard's door was closed and off limits. It put the whole crew on edge.

Private Lu—who was the assigned sentry for Shepard's cabin—had only seen the Commander once earlier when she had brought Shepard her morning meal and coffee. "She looked rough," the private had reported before Pressly had promptly stepped in and told Lu to resume her post.

Ashley sighed, waiting for the elevator to ease down into the bowels of the ship. She still had two more hours before she had to go back on duty. Vid-mail time. She was hoping to hear a reply back from Sar. The Alliance had just started airing the vid-ads of the Normandy and her maiden voyage and the Eden Prime War, and Ash wanted to know if Sar still was thinking about joining the Alliance. Scuttlebutt said that most of the footage was taken while they were still in dry dock and the rest came from long-winded politicians to make nice with the turians... She outwardly snorted at that. The day the turians made nice was the day that—Ashley's eyes cut to Garrus' form as he tinkered with the new Mako. Well, at least he was making nice. Didn't mean every single one of them didn't want to annihilate humanity. Look at what happened with Granddad and Shanxi.

She shook her head and went to check her mail.

Joker watched Williams go, a small frown on his face. When he was sure she was out of earshot—namely the elevator door closing—he tossed a look at Pressly. "She acting weird to you?" he asked, allowing himself to relax a bit.

Pressly looked up from his data pad with a nod. "I've already made a note about her behavior."

Well, shit. That wasn't good. This wasn't supposed to be—"Sir," he started, leaning forward over his chow.

"Do you know who her grandfather was?"

Joker nodded. It was the first thing he looked into when she had come aboard on Eden Prime, but Alenko, Captain Anderson and Commander Shepard had all wanted her on the Normandy. All they saw in Williams was a good soldier dedicated to the Alliance who'd recently, and very tragically lost her squadmates to war. Her record wasn't classified and her scores were off the charts. She even had a few commendations.

It was that aspect that had initially made him suspicious to have her on board. Someone like that posted groundside with no challenges to increase Rating? Only pariahs excelled at boot camp and then bombed out when the real work began. And the Normandy didn't need a pariah on her that would make her and and her crew look bad. He wasn't about to let that happen. After the shit he'd pulled just to get the damn ship, he was definitely not going to let some idiot MaRINE come in and fuck it all up.

Joker may not have been able to override Captain Anderson's decision, but had Ashley not checked out, the helmsman had plenty of pull once Anderson had been replaced—albeit not as much as if he were under the command of someone like Hilliard, McDowell or Lang—to see to it that Williams got the boot and the finger. She'd proved herself though. He didn't think Shepard or Alenko knew or even cared. And now that he knew her as a capable Chief, he didn't either.

"I don't think it matters," he said after a moment. "Armistice happened before she was born. She's good at what she does. All her reports are accurate and thorough. And the Commander and Captain Anderson wanted her on board."

And Alenko. That thought didn't sit well with him. Hadn't sat well with him since Ashley had almost gotten sucked into the atmosphere of Porolan and kissed Alenko in the airlock because he'd saved her. The airlock had been nagging him since it happened, the image of the two locking lips forever burned into his memory. It shouldn't have bothered him. They weren't Jorges. They knew the regs and the consequences. It was their thing. Not his. It didn't matter. The Normandy mattered. The mission mattered. Getting the next promotion mattered.

The XO sighed and nodded. "You're right," he conceded. He even looked a bit sheepish. "Old habits."

Joker nodded, digging into his chow again, his thoughts still on Ashley and Kaidan. It irritated him that their fraternization got under his skin. He shouldn't—didn't—care. It was their prerogative. Shit happened on a boat. Brass wanted to ignore it and make it go away with regs because of complications, and, most of the time, the two parties participating in random acts were more careful; however Williams was General Williams fucking granddaughter and Alenko had over twelve commendations—not exactly fuck-the-regs attitudes.

It surprised Joker that the Lieutenant would want to damage his carefully constructed career for a piece of ass. It was an awesome, groin-tightening ass, but not career-damage worthy. No piece of ass was worth that. And scuttlebutt said that Shepard had been livid when Pressly had showed her the footage, but then again Burns and Guo weren't exactly the bastions of truthfulness. One could only play telephone for so long before "the green grapes are delicious" became "the monsters of Grapeville will eat everything."

Kaidan had the next twelve hours for down time. He was hoping the Commander would make an appearance before then. He knew she had to be hurting. Dawson had been one of hers. Since being grossed out by flying food—it was on his plate, damn it!-he was currently doing his laundry. He leaned against the tiny washing unit, arms crossed at his chest and legs crossed at his ankles just staring at the floor as the washing unit entered its spin cycle.

They were still no closer to Saren than they had been on the Citadel, and it had been over two months. Not for the first time, Kaidan wondered what was so important about the damn beacon. He still remembered the creatures that skittered on the edge of his vision—dark things with multiple eyes and legs. Large spiders? Some kind of cuddle fish? He shuddered, his mind wandering away from the vestiges of a dream that was almost but not quite there.

He was worried about Shepard. She had tough decisions to make—not unlike de-pressurizing the Luna N training facility barracks. She was going to have to let a few things slide. He shook his head, remembering Vyrnuus and the painful lesson the turian had taught him. Who knew what would happen if Shepard started cutting the corners Vyrnuus had? Kids died because Vyrnuus had bent the rules. So far Shepard had played it close to the vest—or there abouts—but—Those are nice tits. Just the right size. They would fit nicely in his hands.

Kaidan blinked, his head jerking up to look into odd-colored eyes. His face heated up as he realized that Commander Shepard had been asking him a question and had been standing there a few moments.

"Commander," he said quickly straightening to attention and snapping off a salute.

"Laundry duty?" she asked, choosing not to comment about where his eyes had been. There was no way she didn't notice. He cleared his throat, noticing the laundry bag in her hands.

"Almost done, Commander," he assured her, sweat trickling down the back of his neck.

She shrugged, dropping the sack at their feet and leaning against the drying unit with a sigh.

"Are you-" he started carefully, choosing his words. "Are you all right, ma'am?" At her raised eyebrow, he added, "The last few weeks have been pretty rough."

She shrugged. "Compared to what, Lieutenant?"

He opened his mouth but closed it. Good question. He had no idea what she had gone through prior to serving on the Normandy. She'd been serving just as long as he had, and she was Special Forces. Only she knew what her demons were, but maybe...maybe she would talk to him about it. But was it worth the risk?

He gave a shrug. "Before this, I was assigned to one of the marine platoons aboard the SSV Kilimanjaro," he explained. "The most action I saw for six months was the news, two routine pirate raids and Nathan Gold's 'Spearing Amaterasu."

Shepard pulled a face at the mention of Nathan Gold. How she hated his stims. "He is such a poser." She gave an unladylike snort. "'Golden Boy', my ass."

Kaidan chuckled. "The effects weren't as over-the-top as his others. No casualties while making that one."

The Commander cocked her head to the side. "You keep up with that?"

He shrugged. "Well, Anhur isn't in the news so much these days."

Shepard's face went carefully blank. "Anhur was a mess," she said. He waited for her to elaborate. She didn't.

"Did your team ever serve there, ma'am?"

The neutral face morphed into confusion. "No," she told him. "I wasn't aware the Alliance had gotten involved."

To Kaidan's knowledge, when the Anhur government had dropped the anti-slavery laws for the batarian population, the Alliance's stance was neutrality. There were rumors that Special Forces were shipped in to help the Abolitionists. He told her as much.

She shook her head. "Never heard anything concrete."

"What about Torfan?" he asked, knowing he was pushing his luck with that question.

"You should have asked Snake when his team was on board," was all she said. The tone she used cautioned him to not press the subject.

Shepard swallowed, casting a covert glance at him through lowered lashes. What was it about Kaidan Alenko that made her want to spill her guts and confess every dark secret hidden at the back of her very large and dirty closet?

Torfan. She'd been there. Not on the ground team, but part of the reserve unit. She'd just come off administrative leave when they'd called her for the mission. Anderson, a lieutenant commander at the time, had called her himself.

"Want some payback, Lieutenant?" he had asked. It was the first time Shepard had met David Anderson. But Shepard and her platoon hadn't been planetside. Major Kyle's platoon had dropped first, and he promptly had gone off the deep end. Two-thirds of the strike team had been killed before Snake, Dawson and Carpenter stepped up. They hadn't left a pirate alive.

"We got 'em for you, Calleigh," Dawson had grinned at her when she saw him next.

Shepard had requested immediate transfer to their team since they had lost their CO on Torfan. Anderson had used his clout to push the transfer, similar to when he pushed Ashley's transfer to the Normandy.

Shepard studied Alenko, taking in his physique. The man certainly took care of himself even if he was only trained for light armor. She still couldn't place what it was about the man that attracted her so. Maybe it was his eyes. They were dark and unfathomable yet compelling and magnetic all at the same time. An enigma. He never quite relaxed around her though. He was a subordinate, so she didn't expect him to relax completely in her presence, but it didn't lessen the fact that she wanted him to.

Regs, Calleigh. Rules. Boundaries.

The book wasn't necessarily going to help them when they caught up to Saren. She wasn't going to lower her standards to Saren's to catch the bastard though. She'd told Garrus as much when he had asked her, but it worried her that everything wasn't black and white as he seemed to think it was—or was supposed to be.

"This is the first time I've been back to Sol for longer than forty-eight hours since before Torfan," she heard herself tell Alenko. So much for Boundaries.

"You were... at Torfan?" he seemed taken aback that she'd told him.

She held up her hands. "Not groundside," she stressed. "You want details, you should have talked to Snake. You would have gotten it out of him eventually. He's fascinated by biotics." She cleared her throat in an anxious little cough. "But that wasn't what I was going to talk to you about." She studied him a moment, watching the play of light from the washing and drying unit skitter across the strong features of his face. "When's the last time you've been home?"

"Visited my parents last year," he told her. "I have an apartment in Singapore."

She whistled. "Hazard pay must be good to afford that."

"No worse than one on the Citadel, ma'am." He shrugged. "It's home."

She nodded.

He looked at her a moment, temporarily forgetting himself. "You have a place anywhere?"

She shook her head. "Where ever personnel command says. That's currently Thoreau Mesa."

"How'd you—?"

"Won it in a wager," she said, though the glint in her eyes told Kaidan there was much more to it than a simple wager. Her smile was just small enough to be secretive.

He grimaced in good humor. "Remind me not to play poker with you, Commander."

"You never know, Lieutenant," she said playfully, her expression changing minutely, her voice husky, "you might like it."

Her steady gaze bore into him, and Kaidan sucked in a breath. "You could probably talk me into anything, Commander," he said, just as playfully. "And yeah," he added, in a lower, huskier tone, "I might just like it." His nervousness slipped back to grip him as he hoped she didn't throw him across the room for being so bold.

"Careful, soldier," she said, closing the distance between them a little. "I might just try—"

"We are approaching the Charon Relay," Joker's voice sounded suddenly over the ship's primary comm system, effectively breaking any moment that may or may not have been developing. All the amusement died in Shepard's eyes and she regarded Kaidan with searching gravity. As Joker relayed the information, Kaidan switched his wet clean clothes to the drying unit, his face hot.

What the hell had he been thinking, openly flirting with his commanding officer? And in the washroom of all places? At least he hadn't said something ridiculous as: "So you come here often?" Which was made more ridiculous by the fact that, why yes, the commander did her laundry every third day and, yes, he knew because he paid attention to her schedule. (Which was why, once he'd figured it out, that he switched from every fourth day to every third day.)

As the silence stretched and engulfed them, Kaidan struggled to find something-anything really-to say to the woman in front of him. The Commander's omni-tool beeped saving him the trouble, and Kaidan had to stifle a sigh of relief.

"Commander," Chief Adams voice sounded over her personal comm, "we have a situation that requires your expertise."

Shepard's lips quirked. "Oh?" she asked. By the look on her face, Kaidan was sure she already knew what it was.

"Yes, ma'am," Adams said. "We've got a quarian down here that has never played Skyllian 5 poker."

"Damn shame," Shepard said dryly.

"I've taken the liberty of sending a steward to finish up your laundry for you, ma'am," the Chief Engineer announced. "Can't have the Brass chips saying the Normandy crew didn't take care of her captain."

"Got my schedule all figured out, Adams?"

"I'm sure there's a method to the madness in there somewhere, ma'am," Adams replied, deadpan.

The steward—a serviceman from the engineering deck, Jankovic—suddenly appeared at the door. She saluted sharply at both Shepard and Kaidan.

"Commander Shepard," Jankovic said. Kaidan smothered a grin. The engineer was nervous. Jankovic was the "baby" of the engineering team. She had graduated top of her class at the Academy, but the Normandy was her first posting. Chief Adams had hand selected her along with the rest of the team before vetting them to Anderson. She passed muster. Now, however, the young serviceman looked entirely out of her element.

"Commander Shepard," she began again, this time not as shaky, "you are hereby relieved of laundry duty per order of Engineer Chief Greg Adams." She saluted again, her hand quivering.

Kaidan was surprised, the serviceman had lasted this long. The Commander didn't crack a smile, but looked on sternly. Kaidan had to fight hard not to break into chuckles.

"Relieved?" she questioned. "Of my laundry duties?" She crossed her arms. "The day I give up my laundry duties is the day I trade my shotgun for a hand held nuke gun," she said sternly, stubbornly.

Jankovic's pale complexion paled further, her Nordic features in contrast with the darkness of the ship and room. "M-ma'am?" she squeaked.

"Relay to Chief Adams that I refuse to be relieved of laundry duties and any attempt otherwise will be punishable by reprimand stronger than Captain's Mast," Shepard plowed ahead.

"Aye-aye, Commander."

"Dismissed, Jankovic."

The serviceman all but ran out of the room. Shepard waited a few beats after the door slid closed before chuckling and pulling up the haptic interface of her omni-tool.

To Kaidan she said, "I'm an evil power-hungry cow." How the hell was he supposed to respond to that? he wanted to know.

"Uh, not a cow, ma'am," he answered with staid calmness as he opted for a neutral tone. Never second-guess a woman's weight. Right?

Shepard gazed at him, one thin eyebrow uplifted in surprise.

"Adams, your serviceman is on her way down with a message for you," she told told the Chief Engineer. She didn't take her eyes off Kaidan.

"You're an evil, power-hungry cow, Commander," Adams told her, shocking Kaidan. He sputtered, his eyebrows dipping into a frown.

"It'll put a little meat on her bones," Shepard said to Adams, all the while wearing an "I-told-you-so" grin.

"She's just nervous around you, Commander," the Chief Engineer said. "She's got a good head on her shoulders."

"Didn't realize you were the type to traumatize the pukes," Kaidan said after he had processed what had just happened.

Shepard gazed at him, her eyes bright with mirth. "You haven't served under Captain Anderson enough times. 'The more meat on their bones, the stronger the team,' he'd say." She gave a shrug. "I'm still working on it."