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4-01-2183
[ SSV NORMANDY SR1 ]
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"I can't," Tali protested as she wrung her hands awkwardly together, "I'm very busy and I'd like to get this done."
"You sure about that?" John, leaning in and crossing his arms, felt a bit suspicious. "I just... got this little ol' feeling here that you're just making excuses."
"N—No, I'm serious," She stammered frightfully with a second glance, "There's lots of work to do and—"
"—Okay, okay." He relented, throwing his palms up in surrender, and taking some steps backward, "Alright busy bee. Just try to finish up. Join us when you can."
She didn't say anything and watched him turn around, her hands still in that awkward dance.
Tali wasn't busy. At all. She waited for him to disappear and finally turned around to give every button, knob, and meter a long glance.
Everything was in harmony. Everything in balance. Nothing to tweak. Nothing to improve. Nominality. Through and through.
So why did she turn him down? She turned him down because...
She frowned.
Hm.
Nothing came immediately to mind. She grasped the edges of that console and stared hard at it, sifting through thoughts and feelings alike, trying to piece it all together with proverbial glue. She didn't try to understand them. She just did what her gut told her to do. And her gut told her no.
...Maybe it was because she knew every time she was around him, even in the company of others in the quiet safety of the Normandy, it was like falling in a myopic sea of Lala Land.
Or perhaps she just wasn't interested in goofing off with the others. Or maybe she just wanted to avoid her feelings no matter how vain it was to do so.
Adams stood up next to her and leaned into her console to read everything on it. "Oh. How odd, Tali. Everything looks just... so up to snuff."
"I—"
"Why don't you want to join the Commander and do some teambuilding?"
Tali blinked several times between her console and the Normandy's lead engineer, mouth trying to spit out an excuse that never even tried to leave her tongue. The seconds crawled by and Adams' smile became palpable.
"Tsk. Tsk." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head, datapad held behind his back, "Lying to the Commander. Not good. Not good."
"But I— I—...I!"
"—Go up there and take a break," He said as he fixed her with a cold glare and tight smile, "That's an order, young lady. I don't want you here until next morning."
She kept flip flapping between that damn computer and him. She still didn't move. He opened up a wide arm to start corralling her to the exit.
"Come on. Let's go. Up you go."
"Er—uhm."
"Another peep, Tali, and I'll have to inform the commander of what's going to be a demerit. We wouldn't want to blemish a would-be flawless record, now would we?"
Eyes wide, she no longer resisted.
Out popped Tali to the other side of the door with Adams closing it quickly behind him.
She made an audible inhaling squeak and emboldened herself to accept the fact that she was going to have to participate in whatever John had planned this time. Waxing out a mental groan, she turned the corner and the first thing she saw was John's red tomato face heaving and pulling against the unyielding wall of muscle before him. He was arm-wrestling Wrex.
"I'm winnin' Tals. Look." A vein bulged from Shepard's head, lips puckered, "I got it."
"Come on, Commander." Kaiden scoffed, "I got money ridin' on this."
John's scowl was about the only thing Tali could focus on. Juxtaposing it to Wrex's collected expression did the commander no favors.
Slowly and without effort, the krogan began to pull John's arm further and further away from the win the man so desperately sought. He gave up and let the dinosaur have it. As if it were a surprise, Wrex won again.
Nursing both pain and pride, John shook the ache away from his hand and scowled. "I had it. God, I had it."
"Ah, shoot." Kaidan spat and handed over a credit chit to Marcus, one of the crew members watching, "80 credits gone."
"You thought, even for a second, the commander had a chance?" Marcus said, pocketing his win, "I'm going to give you some advice: Don't go to the Kentucky Derby. You'd lose everything."
"Marcus is right LT, that was a really poor choice." Ashley quipped.
"Hey now. Commander's got some guns. Really thought there was a chance. Now if he was a biotic, he might've had a chance."
"Thanks for believing in me, Kaidan." A new kink in his shoulder he'd have to fight with now, John clasped his hands together. "I vote we disqualify Wrex. The disparity of skill is too high."
"Sore losers are what I see." Wrex admonished before leveling his gaze upon Tali. "I want a match against our little pyjak here. I bet if anyone can beat me, it's her."
Wrex hollered his laugh across the deck at such a thought. The rest of them rolled their eyes and shook their heads at what barely passed as an entertaining joke.
Tali tried to wobble out an anxious laugh and failed miserably.
"Alright. Bets up. Ashley vs Tali. Let's go." John announced, gesturing to them both to step up to the plate.
Ash rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to arm-wrestle Tali."
"Tali?" John asked, big smile on his face.
"I'm... going to recuse myself." Tali said nervously.
"Welp, we got a second disqualee."
"Is that even a word?" Kaidan mumbled.
"Disqualee? Probably not." Marcus said with a muted voice.
"How about..." John pointed to the next contestants, "Ashley versus Garrus."
Ashley rose an unhappy brow. That was a daft suggestion at best.
"Nope. That's not happening."
The turian opened up his hands, not understanding. "Why not?"
"I'm not arm wrestling you."
The turian really wasn't fully registering why she'd be so averted to such a simple exercise. "I'm not going to hurt you."
There was no mirth in her voice when she mocked him. "Garrus, I know how to send men twice your size to the med-bay. You can't hurt me."
Garrus gave her an admonished look. "I... somehow doubt that."
"Is that a question of my skill?"
Wholly unimpressed, he let only his stare do the talking.
The air went still. "I'm about to make you drop that smirk."
She always treated him like this. Ten foot pole. No attempt to integrate. They'd been on this ship for months now and their relationship could barely be called one. It was beginning to piss him off. This here was the catalyst to finally show it.
"What is your problem?" Garrus growled, "What is wrong with you?"
A coldness encroached her tone. "Nothing. I don't have a problem."
"Yeah. You do. You treat me like shit on a shoe and I don't understand why."
"I don't care how you think I treat you."
You could see the gears in Garrus' head locking up and churning. "You've got an ego, Williams. It's vanity."
"Oh, Christ almighty." She tossed her hands up, "I can see why C-Sec ditched your ass."
"No respect for anyone but yourself either." Garrus retorted and decided to finally knock her down a peg, "Gunnery Chief who's been in service for seven years without a promotion? How does that figure? I don't know a lot about Alliance chain of command, but I know enough to see that's not normal."
Silence from the crew. A fire fell upon the woman's eyes and an icey visage descended.
"You don't know what you're talking about." She got up in the turian's face and pointed all five fingers like a spear against his chest. "You don't have a fucking clue."
Wrex was about ready to pull up a chair and eat popcorn.
"Step away, Williams." Garrus warned, voice a bi-toned growl, posture grounded like a rock, "Before we have an accident."
"Make me."
Tali wrung her hands together and watched the air simmering between the two. John called this teambuilding, but right now it looked more like the precursor to a fistfight.
And with Wrex now stomping around (Tali called it stomping only because of his impeccably large size) and telling the two of them to "duel right here, right now" was making everything worse. Marcus, the only crew member who'd taken the liberty of hanging out with the ground team, stuffed himself into the smallest corner he'd found and kept his eye on the krogan's bulk to keep himself from looking like the pancakes they all had for breakfast.
Tali could hardly blame him, she was just as inclined to do the same.
"Commander." Joker's voice on the PA called. Everyone froze and looked up at the intercom. "Council's on the line. They've got some news for all of you."
"...We'll be there in a minute." John said finally before giving Wrex, Ash, and Garrus a stare, "We'll have to put the teambuilding on hold." John growled.
"Uh. Okay. Well—they're, uh—waiting for you whenever you're ready." Joker answered, clearly confused by John's inflection. Tali's hands in a vice, she watched John's face turn venomous.
"Wrex." He placed a pointer up against his breastplate. "Stop."
Wrex grumbled, offered his assent, and leaned back on the wall, almost crushing Marcus unintentionally.
"Williams," John scolded before rearing on her, "I want you at attention. Now."
She snapped to and he approached her closer than personal space would usually allow. His face offset from hers and tone hushed, he glared into her soul.
"Being here is a privilege, do you understand me? Do not make me second guess your position here. Another outburst and you're off the ship. Are we clear?"
She swallowed and stood straight. Eyes piercing, she fought against the blinding vitriol coursing through her bones and blood. "Aye. Sir."
He stepped back and motioned the elevator with his head. "Fallout. All of you. Go. Now."
Kaidan cleared his throat awkwardly and they all made their way to the conference hub in silence.
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"Commander." Tevos greeted politely on behalf of the three councilors animated before John and his team, "It is good to see you."
Valern offered a brisk wave. Sparatus did nothing. Stoically silent, as usual. Ever the one for eschewing even the most basic of formalities as expected. John imagined that platitudes were completely lost on him for reasons that he would easily understand. If he were a soldier turned politician much like Sparatus, he'd likely turn out the same way too. There was a limit to the number of bullshit smiles you wanted to be on the receiving end of.
"Likewise, ma'am. What do you have for me?" Shepard asked.
"A developing situation." Sparatus began, speaking for the three, "Feros. An ExoGeni funded pilot colony gone dark. The geth are there in force and on a scale that warrants an investigation."
"What's special about this place?"
"Prothean ruins cover most of the planet. Experience would suggest they're searching for functional relics much like the beacon on Eden Prime. Their forces are scattered but concentrated on the settlement. Uncover Saren's objective. They may appear obvious, but making assumptions about his motivations would be dangerous."
Understanding fully what was expected, he gave them a firm nod. "I understand, sir. We'll get to the bottom of this."
"Is there anything else to discuss, Tevos?" Sparatus asked her.
"No." She said with a simple shake of her head.
Sensing it was time to conclude the meeting, Valern spoke. "The full briefing has been forwarded to you. We'll be waiting eagerly for your next report."
Tevos bowed her head. "Goodbye, Commander."
The call ended almost as soon as it had started, and the three winked out of existence. Nice and quick. He always liked that.
He turned around and faced them all. "Expect the brief in your email. Go over it tonight after dinner and we'll have a meeting after breakfast tomorrow. Dismissed."
One by one, they stood and, keeping the most distance between themselves possible, filed out. Watching the spectacle, John parked himself up against the railing and crossed his arms, sighing out and giving the ceiling a thousand-yard stare.
Intepersonality disputes. He wasn't good at these. This was hard. It'd been a little over two months since he'd been appointed Spectre and given control of the Normandy. And it was a miracle he managed to keep them together for this long. He was lucky the incident earlier hadn't been worse. It was so surprising, in retrospect, to see the problem wasn't coming from Garrus, Tali, or even Wrex. But Ashley. She was the common denominator in a lot of the problems between them.
He didn't factor Liara, because she hardly ever left her room, save for when they'd have meetings with the council (which she didn't attend to this time). And Kaidan was... well, he was Kaidan. He never worried about him.
"Shepard?"
Shaken from his thoughts, John locked eyes with the woman in front of him, hands intertwined at her waist. He didn't notice that she'd stayed behind.
"What's up?" He asked through a forced smile. While he waited for a reply, he could make out the barest of details of her brows furrowing and eyes sifting for words. He could tell she was harboring hesitation in that head of hers.
"...Does Ashley hate us?" She asked finally, voice pinned by a meek undertone.
John's stole himself a second. It might've looked like he was searching for an appropriate answer but he wasn't. He just had to be careful how to word this. He knew Ashley didn't have a bone of hate in her body that was directed to anyone but the people that'd wronged her. She hated the circumstances that she found herself in. How she processed and directed that energy though—was something that needed work. You never completely knew what might set her off. He took in a deep and reserved breath and bit the bottom of his lip, knowing that he owed Tali an honest reply. "No. She just... has some history involving First Contact."
"First contact?"
"The Relay 314 incident." John corrected, "Not anything directly, but enough for it to be following her career. It colors her outlook." He shrugged. "Her worldview."
Tali's eyes averted away and she stared at the floor. She wasn't going to push for details. So she said the only thing that came to mind instead. "Oh."
Her eyes were still thinking. "...Would you really kick her off the ship?"
By habit, a hand went up to his chin and he gave the whiskers a scratchy rub.
"...No." He said finally, "We need her around. I know she'd never let it come to that anyway."
"Okay." She nodded, only mildly relieved of her concerns.
"She's a good person, Tali. Believe me. Her heart's exactly where it should be. If I really thought she hated all of you, she wouldn't be on this ship."
She was almost castigating herself for being this involved, "I know, I'm just—worried something might happen."
Always so worried for everyone. Another thing he'd begun to adore about her. Out of the four misfits in his crew, Tali had carved herself a distinct silhouette that John truly admired. In the first weeks of their campaign against Saren, he started to feel this pull. This undeniable gravitation toward her. One that was more than a mere appreciation of her professional competency both groundside and with the Normandy's engineering team.
He really enjoyed her company; even if she was always reluctant to part ways from the damn console parked next to the drive core.
Funny enough, these feelings were scarcely something he understood himself. He'd barely dated in his life. Had a girlfriend years back he barely even knew for all of, what, a few months that didn't go anywhere? He hadn't bothered with the stuff since. Didn't have time for it.
But then Tali came along. And what felt like all the time in the world to get to know her. Two months in and he knew she was smart. She was nice. Caring. Thoughtful. Nervous. Bubbly though. Had a mastery of her craft. Knew a good joke or two. Wasn't tone deaf. And could competently handle a gun.
She just had this angelic and wholesome aura to her. It was regal even. Perhaps even exotic if he wanted to go there. Her being a different species did little to dim the allure. It didn't bother him at all actually. It just made her more mesmerizing. All of these feelings were impossibly hard to ignore as of late.
"Hey, don't worry about that. That's for me to handle." John said at last.
"Okay." Came another simple answer.
"Come on." He took some steps toward the exit, "It's dinner time. Maybe you should join us for once?"
"Uhm..." Tali was immediately disinclined to do that. But she denied him enough for today. Worried she was going to look like she was intentionally avoiding everyone, she acquiesced and nodded. "Okay. Sure."
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She sat across from him. Op-aid in hand. A notched satin gray parcel with Khellish inscribed at the top with the ingredients and indicated flavor.
A quarian got to pick between two. You got sweet. Or you got savory.
She didn't open it. She stared at the thing in her hands and then to the meals everyone was eating.
Steam wafting from plates and bowls stacked high. A palette of warm and inviting colors on every tray. The clinking of silverware, cups, and muted conversation.
The culture surrounding food was an art lost to the quarians. A dedicated gathering during meals was as foreign a concept to her as a dreadnaught was to a planet's surface. Visible. Yet untouchable. She was estranged from the communion. Estranged from the tastes and joy that resonated around food. Here, surrounded by this wide mosaic of flavors and colors, she was only an observer. Reduced to a solitude that her suit mandated—a fence against even the most benign of simple pleasures.
That's why she didn't do this. That's why she wouldn't come. She longed to dive into that feast. To savor the spice and sweetness of every morsel at the end of a fork and spoon.
Her stare fell back to this stupid thing in her hands. They couldn't even be bothered to name it something nice. Op-Aid. Something appropriate for a coma patient. Something to be funneled through a tube for a vegetable. Eating was a function. Not a joy.
She almost wondered if part of the purpose of the pilgrimage was to remind every quarian alive what they'd been reduced to. To show a pilgrim how much had been taken from them. To see that the damnation and exile from Rannoch extended beyond just losing her and her colonies. That they'd been robbed of life's basic normalcy.
She would've been none the wiser if she'd never left the Rayya. That fact, in retrospect, wasn't lost on her. You could see these scenes of people eating in movies and the pictures of restaurants on the extranet. But it was far removed and barely something that was worth issuing bandwidth to. But living it made it different.
"Something wrong, Tali?" John asked. She immediately pulled herself out from the internal meandering. She should've just turned down John's invitation. But she didn't want to look like a flake. And she certainly didn't want to hurt John's feelings either.
"Oh, no." She murmured quietly. She fumbled with the small little packet in her hands. She couldn't bring herself to tear the thing open and look at its grayish contents. It looked disgusting in comparison to everything around her.
"Haven't even touched your food yet." John said, spoon hovering near his lips.
She avoided eye contact. "I'm—...I'm not hungry."
The spoon in his hand waned a bit. He knew Tali long enough to know something was bothering her. And he had a pretty confident inkling of what irked her too. He decided to give her an opening so she wouldn't be burdened by their company. "Hey, if you're not hungry, there's no reason to stay. Why don't you retire for the rest of the night?"
"I... just might do that." Tali said, standing, pouch crinkling under her grasp, "I'll see you guys later."
"Bye Tali." Garrus said between a sip of tea. Liara also noticed her leaving and smiled. Ashley simply nodded.
She gave them all a crestfallen wave. "Bye." She mumbled.
When Tali turned around, she almost yelped from the large wall of krogan erected behind her.
"Ah, good," Wrex rumbled, a tray in each hand holding his self-assembled macromountains, "more room."
The krogan sat in a heavy heap, unsheathed the serving ladle stolen for his hill of food, and stuffed his maw with seven servings of mashed potatoes and ten biscuits all in one go.
"Wrex." Shepard warned with a worried stare, "Be careful. You're gonna choke."
Just before Tali turned the corner to leave, she gave the room a final fleeting look before resting her eyes on John.
Coincidentally, John turned around to get one last look of Tali. He almost locked eyes with her, but she was gone.
Spoon back in the bowl, he felt his frown tighten. That was just so disheartening, watching that. It was enough to douse what little appetite he had. He stood up with his tray, bussed his unfinished meal, and felt like he'd confirmed his suspicions enough to know that the surprise he was planning wasn't going to be done erroneously.
He lamented the part of having to put her under such an unwelcome spotlight. But he needed to know. There was a delicate balance here between being thoughtful and just plain ol' weird.
He pulled from the refrigerator an unlabeled and sealed container he'd left in there earlier.
"Heat this up for me, would you?"
"Aye, sir."
The cook took the tray and slot it into their micro-oven to get it hot.
"Didn't like the menu tonight, commander?"
"It's not for me." John said, giving the mess sergeant a detached answer.
"Ah."
John crossed his arms and looked at Wrex gobbling away his self-made buffet.
"How many calories do you think a krogan needs every day?" John asked for a passing conversation.
"Well, let's see. A two-stomached biotic that weighs about eight hundred pounds? He eats about as much as a dozen servicemen. So."
John gave the cook a low whistle. "So what? Thirty-something thousand kcals?"
"After going groundside? Give or take, yeah. "
They watched the krogan eat a whole chicken the same way one would eat a chicken wing.
Reserved amusement was about the only thing that could describe the look on John's face watching that culinary conquest.
"What an expensive toad."
A few minutes roll by. Then the oven made a muted beep and the cook retrieved the sealed tray to give Shepard.
"Plate and silverware?" The cook asked.
"Please."
He placed them on the container he was holding. Giving his thanks, John made his way to the elevator and could see from the corner of his eye people staring and guessing. But he didn't care. They could stare and guess all they wanted.
He imagined that by now, Tali was already in the comfort of her room and changed out of her suit to something more fitting for relaxing in bed.
And she was. Tali had already settled down, sweats and a simple tank in place of her suit. She'd shower later.
Sitting at her desk and tousling her hair to get it under some control, she brought a knee up to her chin and decided to pull up the briefing they'd been sent on her laptop.
She skimmed its contents. Then she opened up a search bar and typed in Feros and clicked on the first link she found to see if anyone had anything on it yet.
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ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs:
FEROS | ᴀᴛᴛɪᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇᴛᴀ / ᴛʜᴇsᴇᴜs sʏsᴛᴇᴍ
ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅᴇʀ: ᴇxᴏɢᴇɴɪ ᴄᴏʀᴘᴏʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ [ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅᴇᴅ 2178] ᴘᴏᴘ: 300
—ꜰᴇʀᴏs ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ʀᴇᴄᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴇᴛʜ ("sᴇʀᴠᴀɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ" ɪɴ ᴋʜᴇʟɪsʜ), ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ sʏɴᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ ʀᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ɴᴇᴛᴡᴏʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪꜰɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀsᴇᴜs ᴠᴇɪʟ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴡᴀs ʟᴏsᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇxᴏɢᴇɴɪ ʜᴇᴀᴅǫᴜᴀʀᴛᴇʀs sɪxᴛʏ-ꜰᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏᴜʀs ᴀɢᴏ. ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟᴛɪᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴀssᴜᴍᴇᴅ ʜɪɢʜ. ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ʜᴜɴᴅʀᴇᴅ ʀᴇsɪᴅᴇɴᴛs ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ. (ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏɴ sʏɴᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ ʟɪꜰᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴍs, ᴀᴄᴄᴇss ᴡɪᴋɪ-ɴᴇᴛ: sʏɴᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ ʟɪꜰᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴍs) | [ᴋᴇᴘʟᴇʀɪᴀɴ ʀᴀᴛɪᴏ: 0.971 ᴀᴛᴍ. ᴘʀᴇssᴜʀᴇ: 5.44 ᴀᴛᴍ. sᴜʀꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴛᴇᴍᴘ: 10°ᴄ]
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She stopped reading. A colony only three hundred strong. There wouldn't be a soul left on the planet to save.
A knock at her door which startled her a little. "Oh. Who is it?"
"Me." John murmured through the PA.
She put her knee down and drew up a face of concern, turning to face the door. "Shepard?"
"The one and only."
She glanced at her clock then back to the door. "Uhm... it's still dinner time. Not that I mind, but why are you down here?"
He stared at the tray and was beginning to second-guess himself.
This all started when he'd been going over the supplies coming aboard the Normandy. As the pallets passed by, he came across a box labeled 'Purified Oral Paste-Aide: Version 9 [D.C/E]'. Garrus, who'd been standing next to him at the time, unboxed the foodstuffs before showing John what exactly it was she was eating.
It looked like modeling clay. The kind he used to play with in elementary school during art class. And now that he mentioned it, he couldn't quite remember if he'd ever shared his observation with her. Regardless, no one alive would electively, by their own volition, eat whatever it was she was eating. The stuff made Alliance field rations look like they were worthy of a Michelin star. So he took it upon himself to find a meal that would dignify her pallet with something real and not that paste of subsistence.
He knew his hunch made sense. It's why she always avoided breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He chalked it up to her just being that busy little bee. But seeing what happened tonight told him she didn't want to be around because it wasn't something she could partake in. Not necessarily a FOMO thing, but just something that made her realize how different she was from all of them. He didn't want her feeling that. He wanted to make her feel like she belonged. And this was the excuse to finally give her that feeling.
"I got you something."
He couldn't see it, but Tali was blinking her surprise. 'Got me something? What could he have gotten me?'
"...What is it?"
There was this awkward stammer from John. "...Food."
"You—" Tali stared dumbly at the door. Did she hear that right? "—brought me something to eat?"
"Yes." He said before frowning a little, mustering out the courage to keep talking, "I picked it up at our last stock point. It's good stuff according to Garrus. Safe'n'ready."
He didn't hear anything on that side of the door and he felt pressured to add even more context. "Look, I—...understand why you're never around during meal time." He said, eyes glued to the thing he held, "Makes me feel bad. So I made some arrangements and got this. It was supposed to be a surprise. I mean, if you don't want it—"
She threw her hands up as if it could stall him from his incensed explaining, "Oh, Shepard, I—I'm—I just—I don't know what to say."
"So. Do you want it?"
"Yes." She said meekly, "Yes, I do."
"Okay."
"...What did you get me?"
He tried piecing together what he saw. Vegetables and some kind of pot roast looking thing?
"Not sure, honestly. Looks a hell of a lot better than your Op-Aids, though."
"You called it modeling clay." Tali sulked quietly.
A lopsided frown tugged his lip. "Oh. So I did say that out loud."
"You did."
"Well. This stuff isn't clay. Believe me."
His second thoughts abandoned him when he heard her feather-like laugh. "I believe you."
"Well. I hope you enjoy it. I'll leave it here for you and leave you be."
She could hear the soft clack of the tray being settled to the floor.
"Shepard, I..." She bit back something welling in her chest. "What did I do to deserve this?"
Only confusion sat on his face. "What do you mean?"
"I don't—I don't understand. Why?"
"Tals, what are you talking about? I'm doing this because I care about you. Does there need to be a reason?"
"No, I..." She was stammering for the right words, "...no one's ever done something like that for me."
He was both flattered and heartbroken to be the first soul to give her the time of day. "That's a shame. I'm so sorry to hear that." He whispered quietly, "At least I'm your first."
There was a stillness from him and he cast his stare downard pensively. He didn't have anything else to say. So he stared at the tray one last time and then to the door.
"Good night, Tali." With that, he left and the antiseptic jets began to mist the anteroom.
John's departing words held a quiet sadness to them. They lingered and Tali felt a tightness in her chest. A complex knot of both gratitude and the cling of sorrow—an aching kind of warmth that she wasn't expecting to feel tonight.
Those soft-spoken words of empathy and understanding stirred a confusing medley of feelings. This wasn't just a mere gesture. It was deeper than that. Loneliness and self-reliance had been her companions for so long. But the life she had here, with the unexpected closeness to Shepard, to the crew, to the Normandy, was a life so far removed from that.
She closed her eyes and just breathed. To just sit. To revel in the lightness. In the quiet of her room, she wondered if this was how it was supposed to feel. To be cared for. Not out of some obligation, but because she was worth making an effort for. That people like John worried about her.
She closed her laptop and stood, shuffling her way over to the other end of the room to see what he left. She pulled the door open, dropping her gaze to the tray tucked neatly away in a corner, far removed from where there'd be any foot traffic.
Heart in her throat, she knelt down and brought it into her hands.
"Thank you, John." She whispered to the empty room, voice only a breath, "For seeing me."
Her offer of gratitude was for her ears alone. She felt seen. She felt valued. Felt like an equal. And most importantly, special. The only thing missing about this meal was a man to sit across from her to enjoy it with. Imagination abound, she pictured him.