Kaidan Alenko falls in love with his commanding officer in the third stall of the men's restroom.

He's spent a life-time managing, documenting, paying attention to the any number of things likely to trigger a migraine. He medicates before missions, and downs sugary gels in between bursts of biotics. He stations himself in the mess, because it's the only place on the whole damned ship that isn't lit by fluorescent bulbs. He avoids coffee and stims, gets more sleep than any other marine in the whole Alliance.

Still, sometimes an attack comes with no warning, which is how Kaidan finds himself sprinting for the head in the middle of a mission debrief. The pain's familiar, like a burning stab-wound just behind his left temple, and he retches until his stomach is empty, and then a few more times just for good measure.

His hands stop shaking just long enough for him to inject the rescue meds, the minor prick of the needle flooding to his head and throbbing.

The lights dim -and since when do the lights on the Normandy dim outside the crew quarters?- and Kaidan drags his head up to see who's come to ridicule him. The curve of her hips gives Shepard away. Damn, he's in the women's restroom and isn't that just fucking wonderful. Now his CO probably thinks he's a perv.

Kaidan opens his mouth to explain himself, but his tongue feels thick. "Commander-"

"At ease, soldier." He lays his head against the cool steel of the toilet. At least he won't have to look at her while she dresses him down.

"Do you want Chakwas?" her voice is low.

"No. And you can talk normal, I'm not..." There's a word for it, but for the life of him Kaidan can't remember it. Fucking aphasia.

"Sonophobic?"

"That," Kaidan agrees.

"What do you need?" Shepard asks, all business. Which is better than dripping with concern or false sympathy.

Kaidan remembers overhearing Shepard's conversation with Chakwas after Eden Prime, her concern about how his migraines might affect him in the field.

"I'm fine for duty, Commander-"

She interrupts, "I'm not concerned about your performance, Alenko." She drops to the floor beside him, close, but not so close he can smell her shampoo, for which his stomach thanks her. "If I were, I wouldn't take you into the field." No prevarication, and Kaidan feels thankful for the knowledge that she wouldn't. Even with whatever is going on between them, if she thought he was a liability, she wouldn't take him.

He doesn't have to open his eyes to see the furrow in her brow. "What I'm asking, is what can I do for you."

"Water would be nice."

Shepard nods, and runs cool water into four paper cups, setting them in a single line before him. Military precision, with equal gaps between the paper rims.

The meds are starting to kick in, and while the pain's not much better, but the nausea is, and Kaidan sips gratefully.

"What else?"

Kaidan wishes Shepard would leave. Would stop looking at him like he's a problem to be fixed. Would stop- he sighs. His head hurts.

"Hell, Shepard, you really don't have any repercussions from your implant?" The official papers all say the Commander is an L3, but she buys L2 amps, and they sure seem to work. It's partially the migraine, and partially the very worst part of him that has Kaidan suddenly wishing that she did have consequences. That her life was a little less charmed.

The thought's not worthy of him, or of her.

His question hangs between them for a long moment. "Nothing like your migraines," Shepard answers at last. Which is not a no, and Kaidan finds himself wondering what sort of scar tissue he's just torn open.

"If there's nothing else?"

Kaidan shakes his head, two types of misery warring for control in his battered brain. Damn, he's an ass. "I'll be back to the debrief in just a minute, Commander."

Shepard walks the four steps to the door, but it doesn't cycle open. She sighs, and taps on her omni-tool until the lock glows red.

She stalks back to him and hits the floor beside him hard, the impact forcing a puff of breath from between her lips. "What I'm about to tell you, Lieutenant, goes no further." Shepard doesn't wait for his nod before continuing. "I'm an L2, like you, Kaidan. Which I figure you already guessed. It's been changed on my record so no one asks why I don't have symptoms."

The top button of her jacket slides open under nimble fingers, and she pulls the corner down so that he can just make out the LED bulb sewn there. "There is one of these sewn into every article of clothing I own, and another is in my helmet visor." The bulb flickers in time with her speech, a soft red glow that reflects of her skin. "Because I have auditory hallucinations."

Kaidan thinks it might be shame that flickers in her eyes, but the emotion is gone too quickly for him to tell.

"This tells me if what I am hearing is real or fake."

Well, fuck. If he didn't feel guilty before, he does now. "Shepard-"

"That's why I know your migraines won't affect your work, Alenko."

Shepard rebuttons her jacket, and stands, unlocking the door. "Adams installed dimmers on all the Normandy running lights," she says over one shoulder. "The controls are keyed to your omni-tool."

The door swishes closed behind her, leaving Kaidan alone in the dark.

She's the most spectacular woman he's ever met.