I recently commissioned @xla-hainex for a portrait of Caleb Shepard because I really needed to see my boy as he should be (though the game images are pretty darned close). The final result is absolutely AMAZING!!!!! IT’S CALEB! COME TO LIFE!!!!! I’ve been in tears all morning since this arrived!!!!!
Also a quick shout out and super huge thank you to @swaps55 (you know why!) for dragging me down this ‘mshenko pit’ as you call it! As you’ve no doubt figured out, I’m happy to be here! lol
With all of this said, I also wrote up a little ‘thing’ to go with it - because, well, LOOK AT HIM!
Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU xla-hainex for the lovely job you did on my boy! There are no words as far as I am concerned to do justice to your talent and skill! *hugs*
Stepping off the lift into the CIC, Caleb spotted Traynor at her post. He crossed over in his usual casual manner, propping his left arm against the railing of the galaxy map, a smile curving on his lips. “Don’t you ever take time off when we’re on leave?” he asks, only half teasing. Her presence here just days before had been critical to him and his team retaking the Normandy from Brooks and his clone.
She’s focused, but a hint of sass peeks through. “Somebody has to make sure we’re prepared when we head out again, commander.”
Caleb grins. Traynor is a gem – she reminds him of Tréasa back in Shannon; spirit, sass and one who is just as willing to give as take. Settling a hand on her shoulder, he pats gently. “Just make sure you take some time for yourself. I don’t need my comms specialist burning out just as we’re about to confront the Reapers in the final push. Understood?” He releases her and walks on.
Traynor finally gets a look at him as he rounds the galaxy map display. Next thing Caleb is aware of is an appreciative whistle aimed at him. He pauses, turns back and grins. “Something you need to say, specialist?”
She winks at him. “Looking good, there, commander. Hot date?”
It takes every bit of his willpower combined with all of his training as an N7 to keep a straight face and not blush. Jeans and a t-shirt are hardly worth the attention, and he’s been wearing his N7 jacket ever since the beginning of this war. Nothing new there. “And if I do?”
Traynor’s grin widens. “Then it’d be a crime to keep him waiting. Sir.” She flashes him a quick salute. “See you later!”
With only the vaguest of head shakes, Caleb turns away. He’s out the hatch in less than three minutes, ignoring a last-minute shout from Joker – he has no doubt Traynor’s said something to him already – he’s out the hatch. He scans the dock, identifies his contact and hustles over.
Kaidan stands next to a stack of crates being prepped to load into the docking bay. He, too, gives an appreciative hum as Caleb walks up. “Looking good, commander.”
Caleb snorts softly, eyes rolling. “Not you, too.”
One dark eyebrow arches; Kaidan gives his best who, me? look, but Caleb isn’t buying it. “Is there something wrong with appreciating –.”
He’s had enough with the teasing and he leans over, ghosts a quick kiss across Kaidan’s lips in a very hit and run style, and when he pulls back, a smirk on his lips. He drops his voice an octave or so – a trick he’s picked up from Kaidan recently – as he says, “You’re not looking so bad yourself. Shall we go? I seem to recall you saying something about steak sandwiches awaiting as we were coming in?”
