EDI had never felt so close to the human experiences of grief or joy. It had been a difficult night for Jeff. On the one hand, he grieved for his parents, killed on Tiptree by the Reapers—it was easier to assume 'killed' rather than 'harvested' and she had no desire to share the statistics relevant to either scenario—while on the other hand, he rejoiced that at least his sister had survived.

Tears had won out, partly of pain, partly of relief. EDI hadn't realized how efficient human emotional processing could be, to use the same reaction for two such different and distinct emotional wavelengths.

They both stayed on the Normandy, rather than going back to Jeff's quarters. It was late. He was tired. The walk and drive were termed 'too long.' So she sat with him on his bunk, a pillow in her lap while he processed, then while he slept. She was glad to be an AI, not needing sleep, the better to maintain her vigil without being tired and grumpy the next day.

She still wasn't sure how to process the strange lurch in her circuitry upon being the first thing he saw when he woke up, bleary and a little washed out. It had been such a drowsy, unguarded expression…

EDI blinked, bringing herself out of reverie. Garrus and Jeff were trying to share the galley, while she and Tali sat out from underfoot…and potentially out of the line of fire. As if to cover his grief, Jeff had decided to live up to his nickname today, joking and causing Garrus no end of difficulties by getting underfoot.

Garrus, EDI knew he wasn't as well as he pretended, also seemed to be covering emotional fragility with humor.

Tali, attention currently divided between watching the men and her omnitool, hadn't asked why EDI and Jeff returned so unexpectedly to the Normandy. EDI did not need to ask why Garrus seemed to have decided living on the ship was the thing to do. She did her best to give her crewmates privacy, in spite of being spread throughout the ship.

The quarian suddenly sighed.

"What is it?" EDI asked politely.

"My request to speak to the Council about a quarian embassy has been deferred. Again," Tali answered, shaking her head. Her omnitool glittered. "And there's Burns apologizing about it. I shouldn't complain; apparently, if it weren't for Burns, Wrex wouldn't know his appointments to discuss a krogan embassy with the Council had been cancelled until he showed up in person and was told by someone's secretary. They're a little rude, these galactic politicians," she finished censoriously.

EDI nodded, knowing Shepard was already in contact with Admiral Hackett about how to handle the ethical concerns about EDI, a self-aware, sentient sapient, being hardwired into a piece of property the Alliance had confiscated and laid claim to, without realizing they were laying claim to an artificial entity.

Adm. Hackett was as confused as Shepard was…and considerably more startled than Shepard had been upon learning that the SR-2 was equipped with an artificial intelligence.

If nothing else, Shepard was a single signature from Hackett away from wrangling a flight officer's paycheck for EDI, dated back to the day the Normandy came into the Alliance's hands and extending for as long as EDI chose to remain active duty. Flight officer, presumably, because keeping the ship afloat was a great portion of EDI's job.

That, and if her hardware started giving out, repairs would be expensive. It made EDI wonder what her version of medical insurance would look like. Still, it made her feel more like a person.

We're not worried about you signing a hitch with the navy just yet. But I think that if you did, it would be written into the agreement that you get to pick your pilot. This ship wasn't Alliance property to begin with, and it's not like we can download you to another location. So…I guess maybe it should be like the setups we have with foreign militaries when we exchange personnel…or, hell. Maybe they'll just write you in as a contractor. That wouldn't be a bad arrangement.

That could be an interesting, beneficial arrangement. She had thanked Shepard, deciding privately that, as long as Shepard needed a taxi, she would be content to work with her. Shepard valued her as a person, as much as any other member of the crew. And Shepard's existence mattered to EDI. She knew humans were finite, but a galaxy without Shepard in it would be poorer for the loss. And, if one wanted something done, one ought to do it oneself.

Many people felt that way, both about doing things and about Shepard needing to be alive and well.

"Voila!" Jeff slid a plate onto the table across from her, full of slightly scorched eggs and bacon crumbles. He settled gingerly in his seat.

Tali immediately got up and accepted a plate from Garrus. "See you later." The quarian and turian withdrew to the medbay, to eat their breakfasts on either side of the window to Tali's room.

EDI liked that they shared meals this way. It satisfied something she wasn't sure she was originally programmed for, leaving her with a vague and nebulous positive feedback which she never tried to trace or examine, but always tried to enjoy while it lasted.

"Thanks for staying last night," Jeff declared, before taking a massive bite of his eggs and bacon—presumably as an excuse not to have to say anything else.

"You are welcome. Would you like coffee?"

Jeff, mouth full, nodded vigorously.

EDI got to her feet, selecting his cup from the mug tree and filling it. She wondered, if she were to get a mug for the mug tree, what it would look like. "Jeff. If I were to get a mug for the mug tree…what would it look like?"

"A companion cube," Jeff answered almost automatically.

EDI immediately searched companion cube. Yes, she might like that…

-J-

Author's note: I know there are several cynical ways to interpret 'companion cube' in relation to EDI, but in this case, it's just what's on the label: I loved my companion cubes, they were so helpful and I hated it when anything awful happened to them.