#quick drink

“A recommendation from the hospital gift shop. TM88 is a fine Peruvian whiskey.”

“Why’s it on my recommended tab?”

“Traffic observations have noted that you have visited the room of patient Kaidan Alenko on every visit in the last month. As your CPS VI, I have selected items from the gift shop which patient Kaidan Alenko has been expected to enjoy with a proposed 82% accuracy. Shall I add it to your cart?”

Shepard’s foot had stopped tapping impatiently. Kaidan probably would like a bottle of whiskey. Besides, now that he was awake, it would be rude to show up empty handed. But given how close they had been and how spectacularly they had fallen out, the gift had to be carefully considered. Alcohol was a safe gift, it didn’t say too much. It didn’t say ‘watching you almost killed on Mars was one of the most terrifying moments of my life’ or ‘seeing you again felt like settling into a more comfortable life.’ All it said was ‘I know how much you like whiskey, here’s a nice one.’

“And… it’s a good whiskey?” Shepard asked dumbly when the kiosk prompted him again with a chime.

“TM88 is a superb black corn Peruvian whiskey with a fruity accent and deep flavor.”

Shepard thought about it for another moment before adding it to his cart. Walking over to the delivery station, he concluded that an expensive bottle of spirits was hardly the present he wanted to give, but he was terrible at gifts. He decided to take it as a sign that his personal shopper VI had selected it.

A lot of feelings were hidden in that bottle, a secret piece of Shepard’s self he wasn’t aware he’d ever had, much less that it was missing. He felt that way, anyway. Maybe it was a piece of himself he owed Kaidan, for Horizon, for everything. He wished he knew what the piece was.

Bottle in hand, he made his way for Kaidan’s room.

++

Dressed back in his uniform, Kaidan thought about how he’d miss the view from his hospital window. He hadn’t been planet-side in months, and he hadn’t had a window to look out in as long. The presidium was laid out before him, bathed in artificial sunlight, life still moving apace despite the war.

“Kaidan,” came a voice from the door. Kaidan turned and waved Thane into his room. “Getting ready to leave, I see?” Kaidan nodded and focused back on stuffing a folded spare uniform into his pack.

“Don’t worry, was definitely going to come say goodbye before I took off. It’ll be another couple of hours before the doc gives me a clean-bill, anyway. I’m just feeling optimistic.”

“You’re in high spirits. That’s good.” There was a little gravel in Thane’s voice and he coughed softly into his fist. “It’s been enjoyable to have your company.”

“Likewise, Thane,” Kaidan smiled at him, set his open pack on the bed in the center of the room to shake Thane’s hand. “It’s made being here bearable, honestly, having some company while I’ve been in here.”

As Kaidan continued to pack, Thane walked to the window, picking up a bottle which sat on a small shelf beneath.

“I take it the whiskey is yours and not the hospital’s?” He asked wryly, holding out the bottle to Kaidan.

“Hm?” Kaidan looked up, breathed a laugh. “Oh. Yeah. Shepard brought that to me the last time he visited. Had almost forgotten about it.” He took the whiskey and ran his eyes over the label. “Woo, expensive stuff, too. Gonna feel guilty if I don’t drink this for some kind of special occasion.”

“It is unlikely Shepard’s intention was to make you feel guilty,” Thane said. His eyes were unreadable, but he had the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Nah, I know. Just a nice gesture.” Or a peace offering. “Guess he remembered how much I like whiskey.” Still, for some reason, he fell silent and stared at the thin metal bottle for a long moment. He carefully strapped the bottle to the outside of his pack.

++

“Hey.”

Shepard stood at the door of Kaidan’s room. Kaidan was lying in the bed, face still a mask of bruises, dark circles under his dark eyes. Still, when he looked up at Shepard he smiled, pushed himself to sit up in the bed a little more. The sheet slipped down his torso, the bare skin on his chest pebbling in the cool air.

“Shepard,” Kaidan replied levelly. The half-smile slid from his face and he soberly regarded Shepard. “I didn’t know if you’d come.”

“Because of what I said on Mars?” Kaidan couldn’t look at him. He didn’t blame him, they’d had that fight on Mars. And besides, Shepard could barely look Kaidan in the eyes either: he had a tendency to stare at the bruises, rather than the eyes in the center of them. Not sure where to look, Shepard realized his gaze had fallen on to Kaidan’s softly rising and falling chest.

“Yeah,” Kaidan turned to him, his face softening. “Nevermind, I’m glad you’re here.” That made Shepard smile, and no matter how hard he tried to keep his face impassive, he was sure it showed. Shepard pulled a chair up to Kaidan’s bedside and sat down in it.

“What did Udina want? Still thinking about the Spectre position?”

“It’s a big honor… a huge responsibility. Just need to be sure.”

But Shepard didn’t want to talk about Udina, or Spectres, or the war, or anything. He wanted to talk to Kaidan. About anything. Anything else, that is. He had had time to rehearse what he wanted to say on the flight to the Citadel, but first things first:

“I got you this.” Shepard handed Kaidan the bottle of whiskey. He accepted it and his eyes scanned the label as if he wasn’t really seeing what was in front of him.

“Wow. Thanks Shepard. That’s really great,” Kaidan said, sounding largely impassive. Shepard silently cursed his shopper VI.

“Just a little pick-me-up,” Shepard supplied, quickly. The idea the bottle could be more than that had disappeared when Kaidan had accepted the bottle—well, almost disappeared.

“Maybe when I’m out, we can crack it open and celebrate? You can’t tell, but I’m tied to this bed by medical red tape.”

The idea of opening the bottle with Kaidan once he was out stopped Shepard’s racing mind for a second. Would Kaidan come back to the Normandy? How long until he was better?

For now, all Shepard knew was that there was a possibility that these wouldn’t be the last conversations he’d have with Kaidan.

++

“Hi, yes. Hello. I’m wondering if you can help me out. I was in one of your cabs about three hours ago and I left something in the cab.”

Kaidan stood at a public comms terminal near docking bay D24. After maybe six conversations with various put-upon and grumpy departments, he was beginning to lose his cool.

“Sir,” the salarian on the other side of the comms channel said, voice dripping with exhausted cynicism. “No, like, disrespect? But there are about 50 different cab companies servicing the station, are you sure it was one of ours?”

Kaidan frowned, checked over his shoulder, expecting Shepard to come walking out of a lift and head for the ship at any moment. “No, I’m sure. This is Hrethlep’s Transport Services?”

“Yes.” The salarian replied miserably.

“It was a Hrethlep cab. I left a bottle of whiskey in the back when I got out in a hurry and—”

“Sir, we don’t exactly have a lost and found. Thousands of people use our transports every cycle. If you left something in the cab, it’s probably been picked up by another passenger at this point.”

“Okay, well, can you please check anyway?” Kaidan crossed his arms over his chest, trying to keep a little tremor of frustration out of his voice.

“Perhaps you should prepare yourself for the possibility that you may need to buy yourself a new bottle of whiskey, sir.” The salarian leaned forward, looking bored, and pretended to be typing something. Kaidan grimaced.

“I can’t just buy a new—look, listen, it has… sentimental value, alright?”

“Oh clearly,” the salarian snarked. “That’s why you left it in a cab.”

“…alright, look. I’m going to give you the serial number of the cab, you pull up your info, and tell me if a bottle of whiskey got left in that cab, hm? Can you do that for me?” Kaidan tried to keep his demand friendly: this would go on another hour if he had to speak to someone else. Each person along the chain had known a little more and been a little ruder about it, he could only imagine what would happen if he got handed off to a supervisor or something. The salarian made a motion Kaidan took to be the equivalent of rolling his eyes.

“Do you record the serial number of every cab you take?”

“No,” Kaidan seethed. “I called up C-SEC, used my Spectre access to double check the flight records of all the cabs active in the presidium during the Cerberus invasion, found my flight path—Huerta Memorial to the Council Chambers—and have the serial number of the only car within the last seven hours to make that particular trip.”

“Spec—did you say Spectre access.”

“Look, I didn’t want to pull this card, but I’m kind of in a hurry,” he looked back up, checked the lobby for any sign of Shepard. “I took the cab to evac the Council during the invasion. Got out of the cab in a bit of a hurry, right? And left something important to me in there. Can you please just check for me? That’s all I want.”

“Umm, sure, Sir,” the title was spoken with a little more respect this time. The salarian needed a moment to cycle through a few screens. “Huh, what do you know? Someone reported a duffel bag and a bottle of fancy whiskey in that car.”

“Great.” Kaidan smiled resolutely, but kept the menace in his stance. “I can pay damn well if someone brings those both to docking bay D24 ASAP.”

“Uh, sure thing, Spectre sir. I’ll send someone out with it immediately. Should be just a few minutes.”

“Thank you.” Kaidan transferred his coordinates and closed the channel. It was a gamble, hanging out around the Normandy’s docking bay. After all, Shepard had mentioned Kaidan rejoining the Normandy, but Kaidan was on the fence about it before. And the commander hadn’t exactly offered yet. It was a bit of a risk just showing up at their front door with all his stuff, asking to be taken on. Hell, he hadn’t even shown up with his stuff: duty-first Kaidan Alenko, racing to try to save the council.

He wasn’t sure what Shepard would say, but how else were they supposed to open this whiskey?

++

Shepard had begun to walk away from Kaidan’s bedside once he’d given him the bottle, and had almost made it to the door. For some reason, he turned around as it opened, took one long look at Kaidan—himself staring out the window with a knitted brow. They’d ‘cleared the air’ about Horizon, about everything. Kaidan had said he wished he could come with Shepard. For the first time since Cerberus had brought him back, Shepard felt like he could really see his friend, again. Without any of the pain in the way.

Shepard stepped back into the room, pulled up his chair once again.

“Something else, Shepard?” Kaidan asked.

They talked like old friends. Shepard found out all about what Kaidan had been up to since they last parted ways: his promotion, his team, his dealings with Anderson. For the first time in a long time, Shepard felt like he was back with his team, like he was ready for the fight.

Kaidan’s eyes were a dark agate brown in the artificial lighting, and Shepard hung on his every word. He hadn’t noticed he’d inched closer, right to the edge of his chair, practically in Kaidan’s bubble. For a moment, Shepard almost suggested they open the whiskey while they talk, but figured a hospital wasn’t the best place to be opening expensive alcohol.

“You said your implant got rattled.” Shepard was smiling ear to ear. “Everything good?”

Kaidan shrugged. “The medical gibberish was a bit more impressive, but that’s what I took away from it—rattled.” Shepard’s eyes traced the shadowed bruises across Kaidan’s face as he spoke, the flecks of grey in his hair, the light playing on his chest. He forced himself to pay attention to what Kaidan was saying about his implant. “But my biotics are stronger than ever. Maybe some things get better with age!”

“Or maybe you have,” Shepard offered. Kaidan chuckled, tipped his head forward conspiratorially.

“Are you flirting with me, Commander?” He teased. Shepard’s jaw dropped, but Kaidan laughed. “Wait, wait! Don’t tell me. Let me live in the illusion.”

Shepard was quiet for a long moment, smiling through the confusion still written all over his face.

++

Kaidan stepped into the crew quarters and waited at the threshold a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dim light. It was the night shift aboard the Normandy, but it had been sunny-bright in the Citadel presidium, and the shift from one to the other always made Kaidan’s head swim. But he endured it today with a smile on his face as he had crossed the Presidium, striding through the CIC still smiling, and into the lift, still looking starry-eyed.

He removed his boots to lie on top of his bunk, loosening his collar and a few uniform buttons and sighing into the darkness. When he closed his eyes, he saw Shepard’s face in his mind, and that made him smile more. The tension that had been building inside him for the past week had been erased the instant Shepard had said the words “Someone to live for, maybe love.”

It had been a good sanity check, Kaidan felt sane, albeit giddy. When he had met Shepard three years ago, he never would’ve imagined himself confessing feelings for his commander like that—especially not after Cerberus, after everything. And yet, here he was, lying in his bunk, replaying the conversation with Shepard, watching his lips as he spoke the words “Maybe love.” Had he changed from the man he had been three years ago? His brush with his own mortality on Mars had put a lot of things in focus, but at the same time, there was a voice in the back of his mind that had made peace with the fact that Kaidan wasn’t going to find a partner in this life.

It hadn’t made him bitter to realize, it just seemed like a distraction he couldn’t afford to have right now. Besides, Kaidan had been honest: he fell for a lover slowly. He took his time cherishing their interactions, learning the rough edges and the surprising corners of each other. That’s how it had been with Shepard, and Kaidan couldn’t really say when he had fallen in love.

Kaidan softly rolled to his side, reached into a dark corner next to the bunk, and pulled out the tall metal bottle of TM88 whiskey. It was one of the only personal possessions Kaidan had brought aboard—stripping his needs down to essentials was another resolution he’d made in his long convalescence—and it was the exception that proved the rule. The bottle wasn’t a basic or a necessity, shouldn’t have had a place in his footlocker. But Shepard was a necessity, so the bottle stayed.

For the first time, Kaidan considered why Shepard had bought this bottle for him. Yes, it could be a simple act of one friend trying to cheer another up. It was unreasonable to assume it had been, back then, an envoy of any kind. Especially with how Shepard reacted with surprise when Kaidan expressed his feelings. But it made Kaidan smile to think it might’ve been. His affinity for whiskey was known by most of the crew who had spent any shore leave with him, it was a thoughtful gift without being too intimate. Staring at the bottle in the dimness, Kaidan suddenly saw it as more significant. It wasn’t just a nice whiskey, it was beckoning them to spend some time together, off the clock. That wasn’t the sort of gift Shepard gave to everyone. Hell, Shepard wasn’t big on gifts—giving or receiving. Kaidan licked his lip, and almost sat up in bed.

Why shouldn’t he go up to Shepard’s quarters right now and share this bottle with him? Why not taste expensive Peruvian whiskey on Shepard’s lips when they leaned together for their first kiss?

He rolled his eyes at himself, but couldn’t stop smiling. The whiskey should definitely be used for a celebration, and he had reason to celebrate today. Instead, he held the bottle for another moment before returning it to the side of his bed. He just needed to keep it with him a little longer.

++

Shepard beamed down at the steak sandwich the waiter had left him. Apollo’s wasn’t busy, and if he ignored an asari student studying in the opposite corner, he could almost believe he and Kaidan were alone in the restaurant.

“You just gonna stare at it, or are you gonna eat it?” Kaidan teased, taking a bite of his sandwich. He took a swig of his beer.

“I’m glad you asked me here today, Kaidan.”

“For the steak sandwich?” Kaidan smirked.

“No, for…” Shepard shrugged. He just couldn’t slip the words out from behind his grin. What was he thanking Kaidan for, anyway? “For telling me how you feel. About us.”

Kaidan gave him a warm smile. “I’m grateful you listened. And I’m happy you feel the same way.” Shepard reached across the table and held one of Kaidan’s hands in his. This felt so right. Why had he been surprised when Kaidan professed his feelings? How could he miss the longing in Kaidan’s gaze, the heat? “What are you thinking about?” Kaidan asked after Shepard had stared a moment, lost in his thoughts. He squeezed Kaidan’s hand.

“Just… there are so many things I feel like I want to say, but all I can think about is just… you. You’re right here, and for so long I’ve…” Shepard shrugged, turned his face sheepishly away. He looked out over the Presidium, “For so long I’ve just… wished you were here. I missed you, and now you’re right here.”

“And I’m not going anywhere,” Kaidan said, voice sincere in that way only Kaidan’s could be. They sat in silence for another minute, watching the afternoon drift by in each other’s eyes.

“I guess I should eat this while its hot,” Shepard cleared his throat a moment later, letting go of Kaidan’s hand. He took a bite of his steak sandwich. He wanted to kick himself for stumbling so clumsily back into chit-chat. Truth was, he had so much he wanted to say, and nothing he knew how to say. Small talk felt like the only refuge for his racing thoughts.

“It’s pretty alright,” Kaidan chuckled, taking another swig of beer. “Beer’s awful though. Could go for something stronger, anyway.”

“They serve whiskey here,” Shepard offered. Kaidan waggled his eyebrows.

“Why should I buy my spirits when I’ve still got an expensive bottle on the ship?”

Shepard laughed around another mouthful of sandwich. “The TM88 I got you in the hospital? I was sure you’d drank that already.”

“Are you kidding? Bottle like that needs someone to share it with.”

“Well alright,” Shepard grinned. “We’ll do it together, sometime.”

Whenever Kaidan decided to open that bottle with him, then he would be ready. Then he would know what to say.

++

Kaidan leaned his head against the wall of the shower, just letting the hot water run down his back, soak his hair.

They had never cut it so close, except above Alchera.

Shepard had been mute and stern the whole shuttle race out of Thessia’s atmosphere, tailed by reapers. His eyes were wild, as if he were still replaying the fall of the asari homeworld on repeat in his mind. He hadn’t said anything to anybody when he got back aboard the Normandy. Leaving directly for his cabin without a glance and without removing his armor.

Shepard was in pain, and Kaidan knew him well enough to see it buried under all the fury. Just in the way his jaw set, Kaidan could tell exactly what was bothering him:

They could lose this war.

Maybe he recognized it in Shepard in part because it was something he himself had rolled around in his mind over and over while in the hospital. Something about almost dying made every endeavor seem fragile. Mortal. And here they had almost died again—not like the chance of catching a geth rocket or a merc bullet they always had—but much closer.

Kaidan needed a drink.

He raised his face to the shower head, hot water against his eyelids. His mind went straight to the bottle of whiskey in the crew quarters. No, he was pretty intent on sharing that with Shepard. But after today, he wasn’t imagining a celebration, whiskeyed words of love. They had survived today, and that felt like celebration enough. Soaping and rinsing himself under the shower spray, Kaidan had almost convinced himself to go visit Shepard in the Loft, bring him the bottle, share a drink. To be alive together.

But not tonight. Shepard wouldn’t see it that way, yet. He’d see it as Kaidan trying to cheer him up. Which wasn’t entirely untrue, but more like Kaidan trying to savor every moment with the man he had fallen in love with. So, no, not tonight.

Kaidan turned off the shower, reached for his towel. There would be nights like tonight, many more, and maybe one of those nights Shepard would be ready.

++

Shepard dropped his data-pad onto his desktop with a clatter. He’d been reviewing tactical reports, plans. Casualty reports, such as they could be compiled. He sat back, closed his eyes, let the still hum of the ship underpin the sound of his own breaths.

Tomorrow, they would move on the Cerberus base, take the fight to the Illusive Man directly.

“And then what?” Shepard whispered into the quiet of his cabin. Then what? They take Cerberus out of the equation and they’re left with… still the Reapers. A galaxy unprepared to face them, and hundreds of good soldiers and good scientists who would rather die than use their abilities to take out the Reapers once and for all. It was a realization that hollowed him out inside. The data-pads on his desk called out to him, chastised him for resting his eyes or trying to quiet his thoughts. But when he looked back at the desk, it was still the casualty reports staring back at him.

The war had chipped away so much from the image of himself Shepard had been so certain of. It had taken so much of who he was, he wondered sometimes if there was anything else he could be than a sword against the Reapers. When he looked around the room, saw the fish in their aquarium, the little models he’d built over the last few years, the remains of a late-night drink in a glass on the table, it was like looking at somebody else’s possessions.

Everyone was depending on him—literally everyone. And who was he, at the end of the day? What was left? The shell of Commander Shepard, revenant cyborg, and his cozy little loft and all his little models. His face felt hot. He’d left the wake of a life behind him in his years—people he had saved, colonies he’d protected, heroes he had avenged—but what was there now? Wrath. Fear.

He stood up, began to pace the deck, chose a pad at random and started reviewing it. It was a power-fluctuation report from engineering, and Shepard thought it would keep him saner to hear it from someone directly. As the hatch to the loft opened for him, he almost ran into Kaidan, just reaching to sound the door chime.

They looked at each other a long moment, the hollowness in Shepard bitterly annoyed that Kaidan would see him like this.

“Can’t sleep either, huh?” Kaidan said softly.

“No.” He stepped to the side and allowed Kaidan to pass into his cabin. Only then did Shepard notice Kaidan was carrying two glasses in one hand, and a bottle of whiskey in the other.

++

The hair stood up on the back of Kaidan’s neck when he stepped into the loft. He shot past Shepard and made down the steps to the living area.

“Kaidan, I need to—” Shepard’s voice had an iron edge to it, but Kaidan turned around, looked him in the eye before he could finish.

“Shh. Just take five minutes. A quick drink, then I’ll go.” He thought he saw a spark of a smile in Shepard’s face, and the sight made his heart beat faster. He twisted open the bottle of whiskey and poured a glass for each of them. “Shepard, you know you’ve done everything you could, right?”

“I hope so. I keep running the numbers to see if I’ve missed something.” Kaidan could relate, he handed one glass to Shepard. It had been so long since they’d been truly alone together.

“You don’t have to take this on yourself. Look to your crew, to the talented people fighting by your side.” Shepard didn’t reply right away, but sighed and took the bottle from Kaidan’s hand, not so much as looking at it before setting it on the table. “What you’ve accomplished since the Reapers arrived… it’s just nothing short of amazing.” He watched as Shepard held the glass to lips, took a long slow sip of his whiskey.

Tonight was the night, Kaidan had felt it after the briefing. The last night they’d have to crack open this bottle. And he had no celebration to commemorate except tonight, except being alive and in love and with Shepard. He had thought about it so much, it almost surprised him when he set his glass down on the table without so much as a sip.

“It’s gonna be what it is,” he said softly. Shepard’s expression had softened, and Kaidan held his gaze.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Shepard said after a moment.

“About the good times,” Kaidan scoffed. “And the hard times. It’s been an unforgettable few years.” He took in Shepard in his uniform pants and N7 hoodie, looking as casual as he ever allowed himself. A view of himself only Kaidan was allowed to share in. “Yeah, especially the time we’ve spent together lately. It’s been so intense… it feels like a lifetime.”

Shepard set down his drink beside Kaidan’s. The change was enormous, Shepard looked like Shepard again, not ‘the commander’. Like there had been a piece of himself he had given over to Kaidan, maybe without even knowing it, and it was something Kaidan could give back. Something he’d cared for even without realizing.

“You’re exactly what I need right now, Kaidan.” Shepard leaned forward and Kaidan gently took the back of his head, pulled him in for a deep kiss.

“I lied,” he breathed when he pulled back. “I didn’t come here for a quick drink.” Shepard smirked conspiratorially before leaning in once again, pressing his lips to Kaidan’s. Kaidan’s fingers tangled into the fabric of Shepard’s hoodie, pulling him in and deepening the kiss. Shepard went willingly, swinging his leg to straddle Kaidan’s lap, hands gripping Kaidan’s shoulders as they kissed. There was the taste of whiskey on Shepard’s tongue, on his lips, even though he’d taken only the smallest sip. Kaidan let his hands run down the sides of Shepard’s body, caressing the small of his back before his grip settled under Shepard’s thighs. Barely breaking the kiss, he stood up, carrying Shepard with him, and the two swayed for a moment as Kaidan took the weight and met Shepard in a kiss once again.

Shepard was already unbuttoning his uniform shirt, kissing the line of his jaw and down his neck. On the table, two glasses of whiskey sat beside the opened TM88 bottle. Kaidan almost knocked them over whisking Shepard to the bed.

The whiskey was forgotten in moments as the men stripped down and Kaidan pushed Shepard onto the mattress.  Tomorrow would be too busy to finish the whiskey, and everyday after that was a prayer’s breadth away from oblivion. It had seemed so important to Kaidan as he carried the bottle to the loft, but now that he had his hands on Shepard’s body, his lips pressed to Shepard’s chest, it was like nothing mattered. Not Mars, or the Reapers, or the bottle of whiskey.