Kaidan knows he shouldn't. He knows it's wrong. And yet, he feels a magnetic draw to the datapad Shepard slammed on her desk when he unexpectedly appeared in the doorway of her cabin. Her face had flushed red, from embarrassment or anger, Kaidan couldn't tell, and she'd stomped past him, muttering something about how she was already late anyway.

There's something in him that wants to shield her from everything that would cloud that beautiful face, although he does have to admit, he finds her angry face incredibly arousing. All power and confidence and her.

Maybe that's why he picks up the datapad and powers it on.

Casting a sideward glance to the still-empty doorway, he pulses the smallest jolt of electricity to override her security key. The screen flashes to life, and he sees the object of her scorn.

A delicate dress made in the Asari fashion. A holographic model spins and swishes before him. She almost looks like Shepard. It's something he'd never imagined seeing her in, and yet now he can't stop. A blip flashes in the upper right-hand corner, a friendly reminder that there are items in the cart, and does he want to complete checkout? He clicks the icon, because he's come this far anyway. The items are all this same dress, about 5 of them. Added five times and then forgotten.

It's pricey, but not exorbitant. She certainly has the credits. Kaidan can't put the pieces together until he remembers the last formal event they'd attended together. Tugging at hems, wobbling in heels, suddenly finding comfort and leaning back in her chair as if she were in the Normandy's War Room - a most unladylike sprawl. Perhaps she didn't want to think about attending another Alliance event, shaking hands with sycophants who'd turned their backs on her when she'd needed them most, when their lives were in danger, and she'd saved them all anyway.

Kaidan suddenly needs to see her in the dress. His stomach flutters at the thought of her swishing and swirling in the shimmery material that would dance across her curves. He gulps hard.

Swiping his omni-tool, he makes the purchase with his own credit chits, guaranteeing delivery with a shipment of cargo already on its way within 24 hours. He loads the Alliance News Network and hopes the sixth time isn't the charm, and she'll forget about the site and dress for the next day at least.

Shore leave is 3 days away. Kaidan intends give her a reason to wear a nice dress without pomp and circumstance and acting a part. She'll join him in a darkened French restaurant in Vancouver where they'll share a bottle of wine, and he can watch the stresses of the past couple months melt away from her perfect shoulders accented in shimmering lace.