Disclaimer: BioWare owns all the toys. We just enjoy playing with them-especially with Kaidan.

Thanks to the KAST group for helping me to see that you don't have to automatically hate the Citadel doctor. I wouldn't have thought of this otherwise.

Please don't tar and feather me. This the the story from Rochelle's POV as she tells it. I'm just the messenger.

Thanks especially to SageQueen for being so kind as to beta the story for me and for giving me encouragement. Your time and comments have been so very appreciated.

Blind Date

"Oh come on Chelle. It couldn't have been that bad," Chloe teased. "I understand that human women can have interesting reactions from…dating a drell."

The younger woman crossed her arms across her chest, glaring at her former mentor with icy blue eyes. "Well, that's all fine and good, but I was not going there. The guy was creepy, okay? That whole thing about being the 'weapon' and taking no personal responsibility for killing people? Uh…psycho!" She shuddered. "You can just forget about this new scheme of yours and Richard's. No more blind dates." She brushed a lock of curly strawberry blonde hair behind one ear.

Dr. Michel leaned against the edge of the exam table. "We're just worried about you. All you do is work. You need to get out, meet people, have fun."

"Chloe, I appreciate your concern. But I just finished 3 years of hell where the hospital owned my ass and all my free time. I like sleep and I like having time to myself." She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Geez! You'd think this was 19th century earth or something where being 30 and unmarried would make you an old maid. I'm a professional. My practice is building and my job is fulfilling. I don't need a man to support me and I don't need one to make me feel complete." Rochelle returned to her desk, turning on her datapad and started signing off on reports and lab results. She so didn't want to be in this conversation. Chloe could be so…pushy. The fact that she was her mentor for part of her training didn't help. She was used to looking to the older woman for guidance and advice. But this? Again? I just don't need this aggravation in my life. Perhaps I should have taken that position on earth after all. But she liked it here. Earth was so…homogeneous. She liked being around different species. There was always something new to learn or see on the Citadel. She just didn't want to be fixed up on disastrous dates to do so.

Chloe Michel pulled up a chair on the other side of the desk to try to catch Chelle's eyes. "He's human."

Chelle didn't look up from her work. "That's an improvement, but no."

"He's handsome."

"Still no."

"He's in the Alliance armed forces—a Commander, actually."

"No." She tried to make her voice sound as bored as possible, hoping that Chloe would give up and leave her alone.

"I've taken care of him several times over the past couple of years. He's a nice man, Chelle, a gentleman. You don't meet many of those in this day and age."

"Well, good for him."

"He's a war hero, Chelle," the older woman tried hopefully.

Rochelle looked up, exasperated. "Look, I don't care if he was the freakin' Savior of the Citadel, okay? I'm not interested. Just drop it."

"Fine," Chloe sighed. She got up and crossed the room to her desk. She punched a couple of buttons on her datapad. A corresponding beep sounded from the younger woman's device.

Chelle's head fell back with an exasperated groan. "I thought you said you were going to drop it."

"Its just one date, Rochelle. One evening then you can go back to your regular boring life." Chelle ignored her and swiped her finger across the display, moving the new file to the side to continue her work. The older woman's tone turned wheedling. "Just drinks? Come on Chelle. You show up, meet the guy, have a drink and then go home if it doesn't go well." As Chloe watched the younger woman's shoulders slump, her mouth turned up in a victorious grin.

Rochelle put her hands up in a defensive gesture. "Ugh! You're not going to stop until you get your way, are you?"

"Nope," Dr. Michel replied smugly.

Rochelle ran her fingers through her hair. She then returned a stern glance to her former mentor. "I will look through the file, okay? If I find anything remotely objectionable you drop it and all future claims on my social life. Deal?"

"Sure."

Chelle clicked on the file. "This is his medical file, Doctor Michel. I can't go looking through his medical chart. You know better."

Chloe shrugged off the accusation. "Relax, Chelle. I removed everything that isn't public knowledge already. There's no breach of confidentiality here." She rounded the desk to stand behind the younger physician.

Rochelle's blue eyes widened. "He's a biotic? And L2 no less."

Chloe cringed. Damn. She had forgotten that in her eagerness to set her friend up.

"Interesting," the young doctor murmured without realizing it. She knew that most people feared and distrusted biotics. They held these ignorant assumptions that they were all unstable and could read minds. Rochelle had always found the phenomenon fascinating, however. It was an amazing mutation that caused eezo to collect into nodules within the nervous system. And more amazing still was that those stores of dark matter energy could be controlled and directed. It saddened her, however, that so many of the children affected by eezo exposure died horrible deaths. In her eyes that made those that survived more rare and special—like modern day superheroes straight out of the comics of the 20th century.

Dr. Michel, encouraged that the file had not been closed immediately, pressed her advantage and pointed to the screen. "Open that vid link, there." The footage was that of the Council Chamber right after the geth attack on the Citadel. She vaguely remembered this footage from her days in residency. There was a familiar blonde armored woman trailed by a turian and an armored human male.

"Isn't that—Commander Shepard?" she asked shocked.

"Yes and that's," Chloe pointed to the man with his back to the camera climbing the Council steps behind the commander as he looked over his shoulder at the camera, "Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko. Now he's Commander Alenko."

Well, can't see his face too well, but he has a cute butt. She clicked on a more recent photo—this one of a handsome man with olive skin, black hair and deep brown eyes. He was wearing a more modern set of armor in a bronzed charcoal. "He looks even better out of the armor, by the way," Chloe whispered in Chelle's ear. Chelle turned to her former mentor, eyebrow raised. Chloe shrugged. "What? While I may be his physician, I'm not dead." Chelle couldn't help but chuckle.

"Just drinks you say?

How did I let her talk me into this? Rochelle wondered as she walked into the poorly lit interior of the Dark Star Lounge. Chloe had insisted that she turn Rochelle into her own personal dress-up doll. The older woman had dragged her from one swanky shop to another on the Citadel to find the "perfect" dress. It was a rich blue that brought out her eyes according to Chloe. The dress was a combination of low-cut and push-up on top. She felt like her breasts were hiked up so high that she could use her cleavage as a tray from which to serve drinks. The skirt of the dress fell from the bodice in a narrow A-line to just above her knees, with a slit on the right side to her upper thigh.

The pounding beat of the music vibrated through her chest. It made her think about how she wouldn't mind dancing if things went well. It had been a long time since she had been dancing. She placed her steps carefully as she tried to look around the bar without looking lost. Chloe had put her in these ridiculous shoes. Blue strappy things with 3" heels and blue ribbons that crossed up her calf. She was used to the flat soled comfortable synth-rubber clogs as she wore every day in the hospital and clinic. She was afraid of twisting her ankle in these things, which would be just perfect. Unintentionally, she timed her steps with the music as her eyes flitted through the groups of turians, asari and humans that congregated around the oval bar in the center of the space. She didn't see anyone who resembled the man in the photo.

She was losing her nerve and turned to walk out the door. Dr. Michel would be disappointed, but if he had stood her up then she was off the hook. "Doctor Rochelle Payne?" a deep smoky voice asked from behind her. She closed her eyes. Chloe showed me the photos but she didn't warn me about the voice. She felt a small shiver travel down her body, then muscles deep within her tighten at the sound of that voice speaking her name.

She schooled her expression into a more appropriate smile, then turned to meet deep, soft brown eyes. "Yes. Commander Alenko? Call me Chelle." She took in the way the black knit shirt hugged the contours of his upper body. A gold necklace peeked out from the sweater and was a nice contrast to his olive-colored skin. She suspected that Chloe had been right in her out of the armor comment. Then he opened his mouth again the illusion was broken.

"You can call me Kai—" he grimaced and seemed to zone out for a moment. He blinked a couple of times and returned his attention to her. "Uh, just call me Alenko." He awkwardly held out a hand to her. She shook it then followed him to a table in the corner, wondering at the lapse in something as simple as introducing himself. Well, perhaps the L2 implant has affected him after all. But he's had it for almost 20 years and his service record is spotless. No lapse in duty even after the destruction of the Normandy. If there were signs of mental instability, surely they would have shown themselves after that disaster. Or perhaps he has absence seizures due to the L2 implant. But there wasn't anything in his medical record to suggest that.

He pulled out a chair for her and helped her to settle into it, then took up the chair against the back wall that provided a good view of the room. An asari waitress in a stereo-typical peek-boo-dress took their drink orders shortly thereafter. Chelle surreptitiously studied him. He didn't seem to notice as the asari retreated with an exaggerated sway to her half-covered blue hips. Most men that she knew, marines especially, would have had their eyes glued to her ass. Huh. No reaction at all to the famous asari "charms." Chelle had a sinking feeling niggling at her. Oh no. It would be just like Chloe to set me up with a guy who's on his his way out of the closet.

"So, Doctor Payne?" his voice rumbled as he looked back at her. "Isn't that a rather…unfortunate for a medical professional?"

She giggled. "Yeah. But I've managed to make it into a standing joke with my patients-kind of an icebreaker." His mouth turned up on one side into a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He looked down at the table. His long dark lashes hid the brandy colored irises and at that angle she noticed the dark circles under his eyes. So either he has really bad allergies or he doesn't sleep well. She waited for him to look up or to say something. He didn't. She grew bored and watched the dance floor, bopping slightly in her seat to the sound. Damn. Where are those drinks? She was starting to get that impending doom feeling when a date was going to crash and burn.

Almost as if in response, he seemed to shake himself and looked up at her obliquely. Dark pink color developed on his cheeks and his smile was embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I…" he took one hand and rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm not really used to this type of thing." She found the blush and the little head-bob for emphasis rather cute despite the lameness of the words. It was a start and definitely better than sitting there in awkward silence. She wondered if gentle teasing would lure him out of his shell.

"And what type of thing would that be?" she asked.

He waved a hand around to indicate the bar. "Blind dates, the bar scene, any of it really." He let out a small self-depreciating laugh. "You know, my friend Ash used to like to give me a hard time about not taking much shore leave." Almost under his breath he added, "I guess she was right."

Chelle tilted her head, trying to puzzle the man out. "And is Ash the friend who set you up on this date?"

He looked away, his eyes scanning the bar. The little hint of a smile that he had previously had vanished, replaced by a furrowing of his brow. "Uh, no. She, uh…she died in the line of duty about 3 years ago."

She didn't want to pry further. It seemed like a painful topic. "I'm sorry, Alenko." He nodded without looking at her then they lapsed back into awkward silence. Mercifully, the drinks came a few minutes later. Rochelle was tempted to knock hers back so she could call it a night, but she knew that would be rude. She a small sigh escaped as she sipped daintily from her cocktail straw.

He glanced at her briefly then pinched the bridge of his nose, his face tilted downward. "I bet you're about ready to kill Dr. Michel about now, huh?"

Rochelle's patience was worn pretty thin at that point. "Yup. That's about right" she said flatly.

"I really owe you an apology, Chelle. I thought I was ready. I hoped I was, anyways." His voice dropped so that she could barely hear it over the pounding rhythm of the dance floor. "It's just been a helluva past two years and I wanted to try…" He couldn't finish but he looked up at her. His dark eyes had a haunted look in them. They seemed deep, fathomless with sorrow-which seemed to match the dark circles that she had noticed earlier. He swallowed and tried to continue, his voice a bit hoarse, "To try to be normal for once." He shook his head miserably and looked away again.

The wounded look in his eyes and the misery in voice moved her. She was a doctor, sworn to help those in pain. She couldn't help herself. She grabbed one of his hands and tried to catch his eye. She spoke the words as gently as possible, "Two years ago—that was when the Normandy went down, right?" He looked a little started at first, but then closed his eyes and nodded. "Were you hurt?"

His response was slow and reluctant, but he answered her. "No. Not physically."

She nodded to herself and continued in a very cautious, kind tone. "But I read your records. You've performed quite well in your duties. You were even promoted two ranks."

He let out a sharp bitter laugh and downed the contents of his glass. "Yeah, that's me. The good little soldier, always following orders." Blue flame flashed across his eyes momentarily. Chelle had to restrain herself from leaning closer. She had never really seen biotics exhibited this close before and she was curious. But this was not the time. The man across from her had gone from genial, to distracted, to morose, to raw in less than a 10 minute span. The Commander wasn't entirely stable.

She squeezed his hand. "Hey, Alenko. You want to talk about it?" He shook his head and then resumed rubbing the bridge of his nose. She kept his other hand, but slipped off of the chair to stand in front of him. She tried to look past his hand to see read what kind of distress he was having. "Are you getting one of your migraines?" He let his hand fall from his face and looked at her.

"Uh, no, actually. It's just a habit I guess I developed. The migraines often do come when I think about the Normandy and so…"

The guy needed a distraction. Sitting here letting him mope wasn't going to help him any. She tried to brighten her tone and expression. She grabbed his other hand and gently pulled, trying to lead him off of the chair. "Come on. You could use a little fun. Let's dance."

He kindly removed his hands from hers and climbed back onto the high chair. "Oh, no. You haven't seen me dance. I look like someone's dad."

His tone was a bit lighter and his eyes had lost some of their haunted look. It was a start. She playfully slapped him in the arm. "That's 'cause you're old enough to be someone's dad, Alenko." She grabbed both hands again and pulled more forcefully. "Come on, Old Man. I was promised a date. And honestly so far it's sucked. You owe me." She gave him a wink. He rolled his eyes but allowed her to direct him to the dance floor.

She closed her eyes and felt the beat, then started to move her body in time. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes to check on her partner. His lips were set in a tight line, arms at 90 degree angles at his sides, body rigid, and he was stepping side to side. Oh, good lord. He wasn't kidding. She was embarrassed at first, but then looked around on the floor. Most of the dancers were women or asari. But of the men, he was definitely the hottest one out there-depressing as hell or not. She took his hands again and leaned toward him. "Alenko, you need to loosen up. This isn't basic training, soldier." She gave him a wink. He responded with something halfway between a grimace and a grin. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or to hide her face in shame. But either would likely drive him from the dance floor, so she refrained from both.

She grabbed both of his hands, trying to lead him into a more fluid, less blocky type of movement, but that only resulted in something that resembled a children's game. Chelle's lips pressed together as she considered what to try next. Alenko caught her expression, ducked his head a bit and gave her an embarrassed little smile, his cheeks coloring slightly. Chelle dropped one of his hands and pulled him with the other toward the oval bar at the center of the room. She leaned across the bar, giving the human male bartender a good view over the top of her bodice. Her gambit worked and he hurried over. She turned, her hands holding a tray with several shot glasses. Her date stood stiffly behind her, seemingly scouting the establishment for signs of trouble. What must this guy's life be like that even on his night off he feels the need to be on duty? She felt more determined to get the soldier to relax at least a little and enjoy himself for a few hours. He spied the tray, one eyebrow rising in a disapproving expression. "Do you really think that much alcohol is necessary?"

Chelle chuckled. "Oh god yes. Besides, these," and she removed two of the glasses off of the tray, "are for me. But those," and she shoved the tray with four shots on it, "are for the biotic with the ridiculous metabolism." His arms were crossed across his chest, his expression dubious. She grabbed one hand, shook some salt on it and then shoved a lemon slice into his other. She salted her own hand, licked it, slammed the shot, then sucked on the lemon. She blew out her breath, and then noticed his four glasses remaining on the table in front of him. She pointed to his untouched drinks. "Drink up!" she commanded.

One corner of his mouth lifted. "You're kind of bossy, you know that?"

Rochelle rolled her eyes. "Well, what do you expect? I have a whole hospital full of staff and patients that I have to tell what to do day in and day out. Being wishy washy doesn't exactly inspire confidence or cause wounds to heal more quickly. Being decisive and commanding gets the job done." She thrust a glass into his hand. "Now drink that, Soldier!"

Small smile lines began to form on either side of his mouth. "Is that an order, Doctor?" She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded, trying to look stern and not smile herself. "Yes, Ma'am." She watched him drink the shot, then grimace before taking the lemon in his mouth. She nodded at the next glass in the line. He gave her a teasing look. "Aren't you supposed to discourage binge drinking?"

"Are you always so noncompliant?" She regretted the statement immediately as his smile fell and the brooding crept back into his face. She straightened her stance, then slugged him in the shoulder. She gave it a descent amount of force—for her, but knew that it would only cause the marine to be distracted for his morose line of thought. "Nuh, uh. No moping. Doctor's orders." She salted his hand again and shoved another glass into it.

He closed his eyes and seemed to collect himself for a moment, then opened them and looked up at her, brown eyes cleared of the sadness—at least on the surface. That was a start. He motioned with the hand with the shot in it. "Ladies first."

She gave him a mischievous look, holding his eyes with her own then flicked out her tongue and gave the line of salt on her hand a long lick. She made a toasting motion and tossed the tequila back. She made her lips pouty as she sucked on the lemon wedge, still holding his eyes. She noticed a flicker of a interest in his eyes as he watched her mouth and the lop-sided smile had returned to his. He then knocked back his last two shots. "Okay. Your patient took all of his medicine. What do you prescribe now?"

"Physical therapy—dancing" she replied with a wink and dragged him back to the dance floor. He stood on the blue-lit tiles unsure at first, but she noticed that the alcohol had helped. He carried his shoulders lower and his arms more loosely at his sides rather than at tense right angles. She turned so that her back was against his chest. She turned her head to speak in to his ear, "Just close your eyes. Feel the music. Let it flow through your body and direct it." She placed his hands on her hips so that he could feel how she moved. Chelle raised her arms over her head and let go of conscious thought, letting her body sway and undulate with the music. She was vaguely was aware of the warmth of him at her back, moving behind her. She pressed her back against him and shimmied her body down low to the floor, then back up again. Alenko surprised her by grabbing and hand and spinning her around to face him. She couldn't help but notice his gaze as he appraised her appearance in the new dress and lingered on her cleavage. Okay. So definitely not gay. His stretch knit shirt showed off his muscled chest, flat abs and broad shoulders. When he's not moping he looks…really good. His eyes returned to hers and she couldn't mistake the hunger in them on the surface. Deeper, however, there still was something walled off. She caught a faint flicker of blue run down his body and he pulled her against himself. She felt a humming, tingling resonance wash over her before the blue retreated again. Mmm…that was hot, she thought as she savored her first exposure to biotics. She wanted more.

He leaned his mouth toward her ear, his raspy voice a little shaky, "Sorry about that—about my flare. It didn't scare you did it?"

She shook her head but realized that he couldn't see it. "No. I, uh, kinda liked it." He pushed her back so that he could scrutinize her face. When he saw her sincere curiosity, he smiled and looked down shyly.

He pulled her close again. "That's not the reaction I'm used to with most people." He cleared his throat. "Um…am I doing better?"

She chuckled. "Yeah. You're doing fine."

"Good 'cause I'm already pretty buzzed. I don't think I could take you forcing any more drinks on me."

"But your metabolism—"

"Doesn't matter much when I drink as more alcohol in 5 minutes than I usually have in 5 months." She felt a guilty. She didn't take that into consideration. She turned an examining look on him. He shook his head, laughing slightly. "Don't worry, Chelle." He pulled her against him again, moving with the beat again. "I'm fully functional." Her legs were on either side of his left leg and the slit on her skirt revealing her entire right thigh. She felt a hard heat developing against her left thigh and couldn't help her mind exploring the unintended second meaning of the phrase.

It had been over three years since she'd had sex. Its not that she hadn't interested, it was just that for three years her life belonged to her training hospital. When you work 36 hours shifts every other day the little sleep that you get is precious. Even sex didn't rate very high in comparison. She was starting to feel the strain of every one of those years. And the tequila wasn't helping matters.

She pushed away from him and his…growing interest and circled behind him. She pressed close and ran her hands up his sides to his chest and stomach as she danced close behind him, working her way up and down his body. She marveled at the hard, defined muscles that were so unusual for a man of his age. There wasn't even a hint of the paunch that most men in their thirties had developed. She was sure the biotic metabolism helped, but his physical condition spoke volumes about his discipline in physical matters which likely extended to other aspects of his life as well.

She circled back around and danced in front of him, her hips feeling like they were dancing of their own accord with the music. He grabbed her hips and pulled her close so that she straddled his thigh again. Her face was at the base of his neck and she inhaled his spicy, musky scent mixed with ozone. Before she could inhibit the impulse, she kissed the sensitive spot there. He moaned, found her mouth with his, and slid his left hand under her bare thigh, pulling her more tightly against himself. His lips were soft and insistent as his tongue twined with hers. She felt the humming, tingling sensation permeate every inch of her body again. Good lord. It's like his whole body is one giant vibrator.

She reluctantly by firmly pulled back from him, breathless. She kept her gaze down while she tried to catch her breath and calm her reaction to him. "Uh, perhaps we should get something to eat and sober up a bit?"

His expression was rueful, yet the lust was still evident in his eyes. Dark red crept up into his face. "Yeah, you're probably right," he replied, noticing the stares of the nearby patrons.

"Here we are. The best view of the Citadel in the wards." Rochelle waved her free arm in a sweeping motion in front of her. The "night" sky twinkled with the lights of passing transports on a backdrop of the stars beyond the arms of the space station. It was a pocket of undisturbed flat concrete that had been missed by reconstruction efforts due the hundred or so meters of rubble that camouflaged its existence. Chelle looked dubiously at the concrete. She usually just plopped down on the ground in her scrubs, but she didn't think that her silk dress was designed with such abuse in mind. Unfortunately, her feet were killing her in the ridiculous heels now that her buzz had worn off. She exhaled and began to carefully lower herself toward the rough floor.

"Wait." Alenko gently grabbed her arm to stop her. He spread out his dress jacket in the ground, and then lent her his hand so that she may lower herself. She watched him as he sat on the ground next to her, then returned her attention to the food in the brown paper wrapper in her hand. "You know, I've been here for more than three years and never knew that the Citadel even had someplace that served fish and chips—and with real brown vinegar, too." She popped a fry into her mouth.

"Well, marines tend to know all of the best hole-in-the-wall places. And biotics tend to particularly pay attention to those that serve larger portions." He gave her a shy smile. She could tell that his metabolism had completely run through the alcohol. Now his demeanor was more quiet and reserved.

She shoved the large container of water toward him. "You should drink up, Alenko. Rehydrate yourself or you'll be more prone to a migraine."

He chuckled. "You just can't go very long without getting bossy, can you?" She slapped his arm playfully. "I was trained as a medic you, know," he teased. He sighed, "Besides, you don't become a bachelor of 35 without knowing how to take care of yourself."

She felt the change in his tone and turned from the view to look at him again. Chelle thought would have been the epitome of "tall, dark and handsome" if he weren't so…unavailable. "Really, Commander? Do you call sleep deprivation taking care of yourself?" she chided.

He rubbed the back of his neck, gazing fixedly at the night sky. "You don't know what it's like out there, Chelle. The war with the geth only lightly brushed the Citadel compared to what's out there waiting for the galaxy. Here you're safe and sheltered. Out there? There's just…" his voice broke, "death and loss."

She made a noise of disbelief. "You think I'm isolated from death, Alenko? What the frak do you think I do all day in that hospital? Wipe noses? Death and dying a regular part of my job, too."

He shook his head. "It's not the same. You are working against the tide of destruction to do some good. Sometimes I feel like all I accomplish by following orders causes is more death."

"I might understand better than you think, perhaps not from the same perspective. Sometimes when a patient comes to us with cancer of gangrene, they didn't come to medical attention quickly enough and the diseased tissue has to be removed for the good of the whole body. But usually there is healthy tissue that is in close proximity that has to be sacrificed. At times it's a limb or an organ. For life to continue, it has to be removed. And sometimes the patient feels excruciating phantom pain in the limb that's no longer there." She fell quiet for a moment to let the information sink in. She made her voice gentle but firm. "She wouldn't want to be phantom pain in your life, Alenko. She'd want you to find a way to be whole again." She watched his head drop and he ran his hands through his hair. She returned to eating her meal, allowing him his own thoughts in silence.

She readied her omni-tool as they neared her door. She wondered for a moment if she should invite him in. There definitely had been chemistry out there on the dance floor. Not to mention that the biotics could make things…interesting. But casual relationships weren't really her thing. She especially didn't want to be used as medigel for his broken heart. She wasn't interested in providing that kind of comfort to him. Not at this point anyways. But she would like to continue a friendship with this man. Anything more…well, when he's found peace with the loss of Ash…perhaps. She noticed that Alenko was hanging back from the door looking shy and hesitant. He certainly didn't seem to have any expectations of her. Chelle felt relieved. She smiled up at his deep brown eyes. "Well, thank you for diner and drinks. It was an interesting evening."

"Right. I'm sure Dr. Michel is going to get an earful on the disastrous result of her match making tomorrow."

"Hey! I thought the dancing was quite fun, didn't you?" she teased with a naughty glint in her eye.

His face pinkened and he gave an embarrassed laugh. "I can't believe I did that. That was not like me."

"Perhaps that's a good thing." He looked dubious. "It's a first step, Alenko." She reached up and stroked a reddened cheek, smiling at him.

"Call me Kaidan," he said in an almost-whisper, taking the hand from his face and holding it in his own.

"Well, Kaidan, if you want to go out for some fun or just need a friend to talk to sometime give me a call."

"So I didn't completely scare you off, then?" he said in a teasing tone.

"I don't frighten easily," she retorted and gave him a wink.

"Good. I'd li…that would be nice." He lifted her hand and brushed it with his lips.