Disclaimer: Bioware owns all. I'm just playing in their sandbox.

I.

"Are you eating what I think you're eating?" He sounded vaguely horrified as he slid into the seat across from her at the mess table. Her mouth might as well have been glued shut, the sticky sweet wonderful stuff sticking her tongue to the roof of her mouth, so she just nodded and made a noise of assent. Yes, Kaidan, yes I am eating exactly what you think I am. She reached for the glass on his tray and took a swig, the fizzy orange drink cutting through the goop and sparking citrus all the way down her tongue.

"It's comfort food, I guess," she said softly as she replaced his drink. One of his eyebrows shot up toward his hair.

"I don't think I've ever known anyone who thought of MREs as a comfort food." She shrugged and thoughtfully turned the remnants of the sandwich over in her fingers.

"My dad was always the cook of the family, and he's always loved to do it. So when Mom was the one on duty, we ate like royalty. But Mom? Mom can't boil water with a cookbook and a food simulator. So it was always MREs when Dad was on duty. Peanut butter and jelly was always my favorite. Dad made an actual peanut butter and jelly sandwich for my lunch once when I was in grade school. He was so confused when I brought it home. I told him I wouldn't eat it because it 'wasn't right'. I think that broke his heart a little." She took another bite of her sandwich and reached for Kaidan's glass again. He picked it up and nearly thrust it into her hands.

"I hate the orange ones but it was all they had left," he said as he speared some sort of congealed glop on his plate with a fork, then examined it with a furrowed brow. "Go easy on it though, it's one of the biotic drinks. Extra calories, electrolytes balanced a little differently, all that good stuff. I wouldn't drink the whole thing if I were you."

She saluted him with the glass and took a swallow before replacing it on his tray and standing.

"You should really finish it then," she said. "We land on Virmire in an hour."

##

She was standing over Ash's weapons table, the disassembled rifles and pistols glaring at her accusingly. She began attempting to piece together which parts went with which gun, trying to phrase the letter she had to write to Mrs. Williams as she worked.

Mrs. Williams,

I regret to inform you that your daughter was deemed an acceptable casualty on a failed mission on the planet Virmire. I chose to save Lieutenant Alenko instead of your daughter because he is the superior officer. He is an L2 biotic with minimal complications. He was tasked with arming a nuclear device that we were required to protect at all costs, so I wasn't really saving him over Ashley: I was protecting the bomb. And he's sort of my boyfriend, but I swear that's not why your daughter died.

She slammed her palms against the table top and swallowed thickly against the burn creeping up her throat. There was no winning in any of this. Ash had been a dear friend, but as hard as the call had been, saving Kaidan had been the right one. And it had nothing to do with "them" - whatever "they" were. Not that it made losing her any easier.

A peanut butter and jelly sandwich slid against the edge of the table. She knew it had to be him and turned to thank him, but he was already walking back to the elevator. He gave her the faintest hint of a grin before he pressed the button and the elevator doors slid closed.

Thought you could use some comfort food was scrawled across the towel he'd wrapped the sandwich in.

II.

Horizon had been a disaster. She tried not to listen as Gardner made a vague noise of disgust when she squeezed the peanut butter packet against the flat, thin wheat "bread". She could hear her own teeth grinding at the whimper he made when she opened the jelly packet.

"Dismissed, Gardner," she gritted out. She gathered the sandwich and headed up to the Loft.

She plopped down in her desk chair and his holo flickered to life. She tore a chunk off the sandwich and shoved it into her mouth and tried to avoid thinking about how badly the whole thing had gone down, about how wrong it all had been.

##

Two weeks later, after she'd already received that sucker punch of an email and had begun attempting to process it, trying to determine how she wanted to process it, Gardner approached her in the kitchenette. He looked a bit concerned, and perhaps a bit sick.

"Did you requisition this, Commander?" He slid a datapad toward her across the countertop. She regarded him for a moment before flipping the datapad around and examining the information. She tried to fight the grin that pulled at her mouth and made her cheeks ache. "With all due respect, I'm not sure I'd know what to dowith that, let alone so damned much of it. I fought hard to never have to use that sort of slop again, and you've been with me every step of that way, but this is-"

"I didn't order it, but don't worry about it. Just have it sent to the Loft. You'll never have to see it."

III.

The Collector base had been blown to hell and gone and she was back on the Citadel for repairs. 48 hours, she'd told him, before she needed to leave again. Top Secret this time, but for the right team. A dinner date that evening and a coffee when he met her in her hotel lobby the next morning to walk her to the Council chambers for her debrief later, and now they were having lunch in his apartment in the Wards.

"You have anything to drink?" she asked as she stood to carry her plate to the sink.

"Check the fridge," he answered. She deposited her plate and reached over to the refrigerator. The door swung open, and she shot him a curious glance.

"I thought you hated the orange ones," she said. He shrugged, and she could see the tightness in his mouth where he was trying not to grin.

"Yeah, but you don't."

##

She sat on the small cot with her head in her hands.

"Lunch time," her guard announced, his voice a bit too bright. He was a good kid, young, impressionable, and a bit in awe of the fact that he was responsible for the Commander Shepard. She sighed and looked up at him.

"Already?" she asked. "Time flies when you're having fun."

"We're not supposed to do this," he whispered conspiratorially, "not really. But since it's you, I figured once couldn't hurt. I have it on good authority that you'll like today's lunch." He lowered the barrier field, not even bothering to unholster his weapon (and she should probably talk to his superior about that later), and handed her the tray. "Peanut butter and jelly MRE and half an orange biotic drink. He was really specific about that last part. I'm not sure why he wants you to only have half of it, but-"

"It's okay, kid," she cut him off with a smile. "This is perfect." He stepped back and turned the barrier back on. Shepard sat down on her cot, her tray in her lap. In that instant it hit her: He had changed, and so had she. But they? They hadn't changed. With any luck, they never would.