Mass Effect: The Simple Things

1: Shore Leave

A stream of constant rifle fire flooded the concrete walls that Garrus Vakarian and Ashley Williams hid behind. The two Spectres were busy trying to get a handle of the increased enemy numbers as Garrus slapped a new thermal clip into his Revenant.

"They are eating us alive!"

"I know! But we've been through this before!" Ashley shouted back as explosions broke away the rubble to their left. Switching her father's Lancer over to armor piercing rounds she fired blindly to provide suppressing fire. "Now, Coats! Do it!"

From a blown out shop front the sound of sniper rounds went off as squeals were heard, but not before a barrage of gunfire and explosions rocked the store. Rubble collapsed as Coats' voice was heard on the comm one last time.

"You stupid fu-"

"Dammit! Pull back! Support's incoming!" Garrus shouted as he stood up over the rubble, firing away as his visor assisted in his accuracy of the heavy assault rifle. Ashley had already begun to run as soon as the turian stood up to provide fire. Flacks of enemy rifle fire flicked off her shields as she slid behind a destroyed hovercar, now on one side as it's small eezo core remained exposed.

She needed a breather after making such a drastic dash across the city block, not before hearing the sounds of missiles launch from behind her and heading into the street's crossroad.

"Garrus! You have to move!" She shouted, her face showing concern as growls and thuds were heard over the ever present rifle fire. The dark skies above them only meant it was harder to see what was out there. Just as she pulled her body around to return the cover fire for her squadmate she saw Garrus' body grabbed by the Brute and slammed into the rubble, followed up by the beast jumping down on her longtime friend. On instinct she fired her Lancer into the monster's head, it turning around and trying to charge her before wobbling at the explosions to its rear. The rifle overheated but the reaper was finished, collapsing to the ground with little remaining of its head.

Any sense of justice was lost to Ashley as Harvesters swarmed the London streets and launched their monstrous projectiles at the hovercar. The vehicle absorbed the damage but not before the surviving Spectre had time to realize what was coming.

"Damn-"

The blue blast of the car exploding pushed her into a wall as everything stopped. Harvesters remained in mid flight as the klaxon sound of the Reaper in the distance stopped its ominous tone. Ashley blinked as she felt the pain of concussive force, realizing she lost.

The simulation ended and with it the female soldier saw the bodies of her squad appear from the disappearing hard light holograms. It took them a second to realize the combat was over and that they returned to the land of the living.

"That's on me," Major Coats said as he looked at his Black Widow rifle, ejecting the remaining thermal clip. "One of those Ravagers crawled away to avoid being shot. Never saw that before with the bastards."

"It wasn't supposed to be Brutes at that intersection, it was Banshees."

Garrus' observation was met with a nod from Ashley as all three holstered their weapons.

"We have your combat reports and what was gathered from all the survivors in that battle but we don't have to adhere to it. You two Spectres should know this."

Admiral Ahern's slightly mocking voice was met with eye rolls as the three left the simulator.

Returning to the prep room Grunt and Vega watched the trio walk by, looking at the scoreboard. Javik watched the faces of those who just finished the simulation with neither his usual disdain or a sense of approval. Coats was the only one of the three who seemed to try and stare back with a sense of bravado and challenge, the other two long since adjusted to prothean's staring games of comprehension.

"We can do it," the krogan said with complete confidence.

"Of course we can do this, it's simple. Kill them all." Javik's impatience was starting to egg the larger alien on, quietly working Grunt into a fit.

The bulky human pulled out his Crusader shotgun. "Oh yeah, this can be done. Just remember they're going to throw whatever they can to make us look bad." As a defeated Ashley walked by he made sure to offer a hand on her hip with his soft words. "You had it, Blues. The time doesn't lie. They're just trying to make you two seem fallible."

"We are not trying to make you look bad, Lieutenant Commander Vega. The system has always been set up to incorporate random elements to avoid memorization." It was the flat toned voice of Pinnacle Station's salarian technician, Ochren, that immediately tried to stop any rumblings about a rigged training simulator.

"Oh yeah? Because it seems like this invitation was just to try and crap on the grunts who got the job done in the war." Grunt nodded both in agreement and in thinking that Vega was talking about him with those words.

"You can think whatever you want, Lieutenant Commander, but unless it's what I just said it would be wrong. After Spectres Williams, Vakarian, and Shepard succeeded against the Admiral's scenarios and challenges years ago, other soldiers from Council races copied their tactics. The Reaper Invasion also advanced warfare and tactics. We are simply pushing to greater heights."

"I gotta be honest, Skinny, I tuned out to everything you just said." Vega and his group moved towards the simulation entrance as Ochren simply let out a small sound of annoyance before sliding the scale on the combat scenario. "Your partner should watch his mouth against engineers who controls the simulator. N7 designation is quite impressive, but I have seen better. Captain Shepard's absence in your squad is showing a breakdown in teamwork and communication."

Ashley always found the bluntness of salarians annoying, but Ochren was right with his assessment. She wished Joker had departed the Normandy to provide appropriate snark in response, but he was too busy talking with the pilot of Garrus' own SR ship, the Nobility. Instead the three soldiers made way to a nearby table to take stock as other squads began to get ready for combat scenarios.

Away from the salarian the two humans and turian began to speak honestly about their recent practice simulation. "I was in that bloody city and that was definitely not how those Ravagers moved," Coats said as he pulled out an electronic cigar, offering to his allies who declined, "they are definitely trying to make us look bad."

Garrus simply threw his Revenant into the empty seat nearby as he let a long sigh and allowed the relief of sitting break his usual stoic persona. "The Admiral still hates us for completing his little scenario in '83."

"And we didn't even get the condo," Ashley added.

The turian turned off his visor as he readjusted his armor, his silver and blue pieces showing some scuffs on the engraved Spectre logo. He let his left hand's metal exoskeletion continue to open and close in a now habitual manner of thinking. "This one was my fault, Shepard's usually the one laying cover fire." Garrus patted the Major on the back, "you're damn good with that rifle. Possibly the third best shooter in the galaxy."

"Not this again," Ashley grumbled, although she knew there could be truth to what was said. Major Coats' skills in clearing the streets near the iconic Big Ben landmark in London, for three days straight, no less, was one of the first things written about the Alliance forces following the war in its search for heroic faces to rally morale.

Coats nodded with a thanks as he puffed his device. "Probably third. Shepard and I have already played this game in the hangar. He makes it seem so easy-"

"that you want to just punch him," Garrus and Ashley said in unison.

"But I'm not going to argue with beating the Savior of the Galaxy, the Human Ideal, et cetera. I'm just glad to be out here instead of on Earth. Shouldn't really say this because of all the rebuilding, and what with so many worse off than us, but this feels like a vacation."

"Then we're doing our job terribly at Pinnacle Station," Admiral Ahern said as he came to the table.

All three stood up to salute the man, Ahern returning the gesture in a haphazard way. "As much as you're feeling sad about the results, you held out longer than nearly all other squads."

"We can do better," Ashley replied as the screens showcased the squad of Vega, Javik, and Grunt approaching their enemies in a much more physical, visceral manner. Grunt's laughter was caught onscreen as he grabbed a Brute by it's head and let his Claymore enter its mouth, the brutality causing whistles of approval and surprise in the waiting room.

"And krogans wonder why they're still treated with caution," Ahern said in slight concern at what would happen if Urdnots Wrex and Bakara were not in charge of their species, "and he's the one who was raised by Shepard, correct?"

It had been a productive week so far, at least in terms of ranking the talents of the galaxy's finest. The crew of the Normandy, along with the Nobility, were asked to christen the newly updated Pinnacle Station training program, having finally collected enough data from the Reaper War since the hard-fought victory almost a year prior. The station itself had repelled a handful of invasions by Reaper forces during the war, with the unified Council forces on hand being a similar representation of unity that the Normandy had become famous for. More often than not in past months, it was said by Council officials that Pinnacle Station was to become an unofficial proving ground for newly promoted members of the various elite forces of Council species.

Yet no matter who appeared at the station, the top names on the leader board remained the same as it had years ago: Shepard. Vakarian. Williams. It was easy to see why these three were now Spectres. And also showed the Council's intention of developing future ships with the template the Normandy used for design and personnel.

Thus, it was also easy to see why Garrus was now Captain of his own ship. "Tip of the spear" remained the calling card of the Normandy, routinely used to squash any immediate disturbances in Council Space as rebuilding continued, with much of the original crew staying put. But three Spectres aboard one ship was impossible to justify during peacetime.

And so Garrus left, along with Javik as the prothean looked to learn more about the turian culture, taking with him his dismissive attitude for the dextro species to tolerate. Tali's duties to her people took precedent as she returned to Rannoch, Admiralty duties finally becoming apparent as quarians began to re-colonize their homeworld. Still, when she had time, she traveled with her turian partner.

Liara remained on the Citadel, Kasumi now under her employ, as she looked to salvage and grow the Shadow Broker network once more after the events of Henry Lawson's maniacal actions. Samara, under no obligations to anyone at the present time, stayed with her daughter on Lesuss. The Normandy squad began to show a minimized roster, and the spear seemed to have been severely blunted.

But it wasn't a complete gutting. Where Captain John Shepard went, Miranda Lawson was by his side, unquestioned and uncontested and always capable of making situations work, from diplomacy to colony procurement.

EDI would always remain, and so did Joker and the rest of the crew who had made the ship so successful. Ashley, also promoted to Captain, took over as XO and was clearly being groomed for eventual command of her own ship, but until that time she remained a vital part of the famed frigate. A promoted James Vega remained as well, now an N7 as deemed by Shepard. And Urdnot Grunt returned to the SR-2, the krogran embassy requesting a place once more in the premier ship of the galaxy.

Also joining the roster was Miranda's twin sister, Oriana. While Miranda remained protective of her and looked to keep her working with Liara, safe from potential danger, Oriana refused. After much bickering and using Shepard to mediate, it was decided Oriana would remain on the Normandy, under the tutilege of the squad and her sister to develop the skills needed to remain aboard the ship.

Finally, Major Ian Coats was also added to the Normandy's ranks, a man who helped Admiral Anderson on Earth during the war, many saw his placement as a potential Spectre candidate. Then again, given the heroics of many Council soldiers, hundreds from each species seemed potentially viable for that prestigious honor.

Taking eyes away from the vidscreens showing the combat simulator, Ahern looked to Williams. "An STG frigate is docking in twelve hours. They were looking to speak with Shepard. Will the Captain be available by then?"

Ashley shrugged. "Not my place to say, sir. He's been busy the past two days with Council requests. We did just shut down an eezo mining rig set up by ex asari commandos on Asteria."

"Mining is next to impossible on that planet."

"Which begs the question why they were there in the first place. The galaxy needs to eat, and screwing up the crop yields due to eezo exposure isn't what people need right now. Shepard's working on it."

"Something that takes two days..." the Admiral muttered.

"Bureaucracy is a funny thing, Admiral. Besides, Shepard was working the simulator the two days prior when our ships first docked. Almost non-stop. That's how we set that record sitting riiiigght up there. And there. And there." Garrus kept pointing around to the various leader boards of all the VR scenarios.

Ahern knew that while the mission Williams spoke of was true, there was more that wasn't being told about Shepard's absence. He didn't push any further. He already knew where the man actually was, obviously with the raven haired woman who had also disappeared from the station at the same time. If anyone deserved the time off, it was that man, the Alliance didn't need to know about it. After all, where they were was a place the Admiral used to own, on a nearby planet.

Miranda awoke with her eyes still closed. Not because she was physically tired; she was wired, and if her sister was around would claim she was perpetually giddy. No, her eyes were still closed because she was tired of seeing red.

From the corner of the room where the bed was positioned, and where Shepard still slept soundly like she had yet to see him do when not unconscious in a medbay, Miranda was able to make her way via memory to the center of the room, carefully stepping over what was discarded clothes from her partner. And herself.

She knew she would have to open her eyes soon, she wasn't that accustomed to the open apartment she sat in. Or condo, as Shepard described it. But to open her eyes meant seeing that cursed sun, and that red soil, again, and the temperature was so annoyingly hot here. Intai'sei was a place for getting away from it all, and she knew the two deserved to be alone, but this was not what she envisioned.

This was a hidden "gift" that Shepard acquired on a handshake bet during his hunt for Saren years ago, one that was still under the name of Admiral Ahern, its previous owner. The man's accomplishments during the First Contact and Reaper War made her wonder just what bet had occurred between the two, given the Admiral was now on the short list of interim Prime Ministers for the Alliance. Shepard's glib responses of "survive" were the kind where Miranda didn't know if he was joking or being serious. That he continued to reply with such an answer during their brief stay in the structure became as annoying as the red landscape, likely adding to her dislike of the accommodations.

If she cared enough Miranda would get the information from the Normandy crew, but she made it a point before the couple left that there would be no communication to the two, barring a kidnapped crew or revived synthetic monsters. It was a sad state of affairs that those words had become less of a joke to the illustrious crew and more an annoying, roll-of-the-eyes comment that they could handle any situation by themselves for a few days.

It was a spacious condo she was in, large and full of everything a retired single man fresh from military duty would need. It had the spacious garage one needed for vehicles for daily transport out into the ever present heat, and was spaced apart from the other units in this vicinity at a respectable, but not completely far distance. Many would find it relaxing. Just not Miranda.

Finally sitting down at the large desk as she stole a peek from her right eye, the computer terminal activated with her presence and awoke from slumber. It was a three year old system, showing just how long this place had remained unchanged. Yet to hear the chime of activating, Miranda made her use her omni-tool instead, making the significantly momentary nuisance another reason why Miranda found the place annoying.

Adjusting the prized necklace her lover gave her, she finally opened her eyes and looked back to Shepard's sleeping form. The elite marine was always one who knew how to sleep light, but their commitment to one another to treat this as an actual vacation seemed to allow his body to recognize every movement did not need an immediate response.

Her messages were surprisingly sparse. The Normandy was still in the system, docked at Pinnacle Station nearby. A deliberately low key assignment (and partially public relations exhibit) following everything the repaired flagship experienced. So much combat data existed from EDI's records alone it was akin to the gods delivering fire to man.

In a more practical sense, it was a way to provide the crew relative time off while maintaining a believable cover for all involved. Still fresh from their shore leave three months earlier, Shepard wanted to reward them with something more. On top of his already lax discipline, the crew would find time to provide tactics and upload new scenarios for the prestigious Pinnacle training systems. It was better than some of the more mundane missions the Normandy took part of, the biggest highlight being the escort of the Citadel back to the Widow System a month prior, simply due to the pomp and circumstance of the occasion, the galaxy trying to be put back to "normal."

Looking away from her omni-tool Miranda cracked her neck with relief as her hair fell over her eyes. Blowing it out of the way she was greeted with the image of Ashley Williams, ever present in a nearby holographic picture frame in off duty Alliance apparel, or rather the standard Alliance blue sports bra and spandex exercise shorts, as she was smiling at the camera, mimicking the old wartime bombshell pinups from humanity's past wars.

The sunglasses on her face pulled down to her nose to show come hither eyes, Miranda also noticed her rare use of lipstick. A quick flash of jealousy made its way through the pale woman as she started to identify other things in the photo. It looked like it was taken right outside this condo, making it's origin the time after Sovereign's destruction. To her brief enjoyment Shepard could be seen in the background looking out into the vast red field with his krogan companion turned leader Wrex, both holding shotguns out as they seemed to be pointing to something, or also as likely participating in some form of competition.

What those background images also provided Miranda was a realization it was someone else who took this picture. Which, at least on a technical level, she would readily admit, was proficient, succeeding in its intent. Of all those who served with Shepard, it was likely Joker. That made Miranda breathe better. Until she realized John thought it was good enough to keep as a desktop photo. She stared at the photo while one hand grasped the necklace and connected rings that now continually sat above her chest.

While she had grown to respect the other human Spectre, even forming a friendly relationship with her, Miranda couldn't avoid the small bite of jealousy, even as she immediately realized this was from a time before she entered Shepard's life. She firmly turned the holographic photo frame off and turned its face to the desk, perhaps with more force than necessary.

Oh well. It's been three years since he's been here, the battery died.

It was a thought Miranda knew was a bit ridiculous. The automatic cleaning and filtering made this apartment mostly spotless since Shepard's last visit, giving it an odd feeling of being from a simpler time. It surviving any attempt of squatting during the war made another point in her favor as to why Intai'sei is not for them. Even refugees seemed to know not to travel here.

Thoughts of more inviting, secluded but not quite desolate locations ran through Miranda's mind as she was quietly managing the massive funds she procured both from her father's business empire, ordering equipment and speeding up reconstruction efforts for various colonies via various charities. It was quiet philanthropy, doing her best to right all the wrongs her former employer and father had provided the galaxy. And to her it felt normal. Without telling her partner, that was something she was quietly searching for during this vacation: normalcy.

But even as she effortlessly corralled all these options, the constant red out of the corner of her eye made her see...well, red.

He's slept enough. Time for him to hear the truth.

"John? Honey?"

She was surprised by how sincere that second word was delivered. It had been a running joke she provided days earlier, yet it didn't feel so sappy or wrong for her to call him by the affectionate term.

Shepard stirred, his motion being easy for Miranda to calculate from her seat. A second to open his eyes, another to recognize she wasn't there. Two more seconds to realize where he was, which meant she did her job admirably the night before. A few seconds to remember the past two days, and her hand elegantly rolled out, palm facing up, as if to present the male body waking from slumber to an imaginary gallery of people in the room.

"Yes, my dearest?" She liked the sound of that as Shepard got up, stretching his boxers as he walked over to her, kicking the clothes on the floor into a corner, closing her eyes with a smile as he bent down to kiss her forehead before looking at the view outside.

"What do you find so attractive about this place?" She tilted her head in playful flirt of a question, raising a finger to stop the line he was about to say, "and not including me."

Knowing he was in an ambush, he tried to bring some levity first, stealing another kiss from her. "Good morning."

"Good morning to you, too." Miranda replied before slapping his revealed stomach playfully, "now spit it out."

He shook his head with a blank expression, "you wanted someplace where we could be alone. And after I told you about this place months ago, I couldn't pass up showing you with this part of me you never knew about."

Miranda just flicked at her necklace with a finger to show he had become quite good at keeping surprises.

"So you don't mind the heat, or the lack of anything resembling even normal colony life?"

Shepard turned back to look out the window, dipping his head in defeat. "You don't like it."

Miranda elegantly walked up to him, embracing from behind the way he did so often to her as he felt the shirt she wore separate their bodies, "I never said that."

"Implied it."

"That's still very different than saying it. If you like this place I can make it work, heaven knows we've been in worse places. But something beyond a quiet location for what is often purely conjugal would be a nice change of pace." Again she stopped his joke, moving a finger up to his lips as she kissed his neck.

He started to walk to the couch just in front of the large window wall, dragging her with him. Her laughter at the act was something he heard more often from her; it was angelic. They both sat down so they could see one another's face. "You know we haven't had major time off together in years. And it seems like when we do get it, everything turns sideways."

"You can't think like that, John. You shouldn't be taking on my own natural pessimism."

"Bahak. Virmire. The Citadel. Each one gets steadily worse. And that's not including the war."

She couldn't help herself. "What about the time you spent here after Sovereign?" She watched his eyes dart to her, wondering how she knew, then looking at the desk and the closed photo frame.

He sighed at the realization locked away in his mind for years. "I'm sorry. I forgot the photo was here too."

She smiled as she ran a hand through her hair, moving closer to him. "I'm just teasing you...wait, you said 'too,' where else was this photo?" Now her eyebrow was raised in real curiosity and a linger of a threat on her words.

"It was on the old Normandy. Floating out in space somewhere or in the Alchera wreckage," his eyes looked away from Miranda as his hands rested on her hips now that she made her way onto his lap, "if you want to me to be honest, the shore leave we had here was right before the SR-1 was destroyed."

That put a damper on the entire playful situation.

"Look at it the other way, it also led to the best thing that happened to you," Miranda joked as she took his hands in hers, pulling his index fingers out to push just above her chest in a rapid fire manner.

"This humor kick you're on, you're going stir-crazy." Shepard's attitude was immediately better with her calm demeanor, and he couldn't deny the fact that she was right. It involved many, many more moments of heartache but now it seemed like they finally paid their dues.

Miranda kissed his hands as she got off his lap, "Absolutely." Walking back to their luggage at the hallway outside, she finally shouted once more, "Let's go for a walk outside so I can convince you to change our scenery and finally cash in on your shore leave. This isn't even part it, but it's been months overdue. Let me talk about where I'd like to spend it. Then we can head back to the station and head out by week's end."

Shepard looked at her entering the bathroom, knowing full well how she acted in her walk, before looking outside the glass into the red sky, the red sand, and possibly the silhouettes of the kakliosaurs brought back into this environment during the war.

She's going to feed me to them.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm perfectly fine."

"You're wearing a helmet and I can still see you're sulking."

"I am not."

"John, it's going to be fine. We still have some time alone, no one else."

"Seems like it's going to be more work and less play."

Miranda floated her way to Shepard, taking the hands he offered to her as she pulled close, letting their breather helmets rest upon each other like they did with their foreheads every day in their relationship.

"I'm not asking you to settle down, that wasn't what I was pushing on Intai'sei. And don't you even think there will be work going on. Just because we're close to the Citadel doesn't mean they're going to call you up out of the blue. Williams or Vakarian can take the call."

"I know," Shepard meekly replied as he started to float a little bit, wondering why Miranda wasn't doing the same. He crossed his arms as he looked at her, finally returning down to the appropriate level just as Miranda started to hover herself.

"I can do this all I want, I've done it before."

"Is that a challenge?"

Shepard let a gloved finger tap the side of his helmet where an ear would be, indicating he didn't hear her.

"I said is- oh, you're just asking for trouble, John!"

Shepard started to move away as he continued to rile her up, starting to flip in the freefall and completely ignoring her threats. The two had been falling from the Normandy for a while now, and the drop down to the planet below had become nothing but an unspoken challenge between the two.

"I've done atmospheric drops so many times I can break free of terminal velocity."

Miranda couldn't hide a snicker of embarrassed laugh at that line. "For sanity's sake, John, is that some kind of pick up line you would give to any girl in a bar? It literally doesn't make sense and I also know you're-"

Shepard remained silent as his body was now plummeting head first to the approaching ground with little regard for his safety. Miranda stopped trying to reason with the fool and streamlined her body until their eyes matched up again.

They waited. And waited. Even as their suits sensors for the drop started to signal deployment of the biotic eezo chute.

Finally, one of them broke off. "You...you ass," Miranda hissed quietly and offered one last death stare as she hit the button on her chest armor for the chute, floating up and letting the loss of mass smooth out the rapid reverse of physics she was experiencing.

"Oh thank God," Shepard breathed a sigh of relief as he waited just a few more seconds before hitting his own chute, feeling his weight lighten and his speed diminish as he righted his body and braced for his landing, knowing gene therapy and implants would soothe the pain he was going to feel in his (successful) attempt at showing off.

Bekenstein's land was desert, just like Intai'Sei, brown and orange as opposed to red. Yet the many plateaus and basins from millions of years of erosion allowed for greenscape to appear in the much more tolerable climate. Where Eden Prime was lush and green, Bekenstein's landscape was made for commerce, often why it was referred to as Humanity's Illium.

Shepard remembered the geography when he helped Kasumi retrieve Keiji's graybox, and braced himself as he finally hit the hard orange dirt on his landing target. Despite the assistance from the eezo chute He felt his body sink into the dry rocky surface a few centimeters. This battle of physics naturally caused Shepard to try and continue to balance himself without falling on his behind, much to Miranda's chuckle as she landed softly to the ground, her knees hardly buckling on impact.

"Charming, dear."

"My love for you has weighed me down so, dear," Shepard replied in as oblivious a manner as he could, taking his helmet off as he turned to see Miranda doing the same. As her hair fell down Shepard could see the vigor in her eyes, feeling the rush of such a drop. As the wind blew some of her dark black hair across her face she looked to him in a delicate fashion despite wearing the clunky armor, seeing his short hair and chiseled face gladly absorb the Bekenstein sun. Both had smiles but seeing the other wearing the same emotion only heightened their own in such a rejuvenated state.

The horrors of the Reaper War and the majority of the planet's inhabitants who were lost in aerial bombardments almost a year earlier was nowhere to be seen to the normal eye. This lot of land, far from the recolonization efforts of the city of Milgrom, was where Shepard and Miranda would take time off from serving aboard the Normandy.

Removing his feet from the ground, the Spectre moved to his lover. As the Alliance looked to incentivize colonists, the land and property were being sold for a pittance. This helped bring back the wealthy who had escaped the planet during the war and entice those looking for new starts. While the colony suffered many deaths and casualties due to the bombardments, it was isolated mainly to the capital city of Milgrom, not the scattered houses and compounds of the nearby areas.

Miranda held out a hand for Shepard to take, pulling him to walk to the edge of the plateau. Both enjoyed this simple act, even if the armor made it seem silly. Finally they stopped as they looked into a small valley, in front of it the residence they would stay at.

They stood just at the entrance to a space-modern designed ranch house. Untouched by the war, it sat there as the brown and white facade made its permanence eclipse the prefab units found on other planets. Here such units were almost taboo, a clear sign of no wealth or resources. Miranda's pilfered credits from her father made it's appearance that this was what she was capable of procuring for them.

Miranda walked to the solid black metal double entrance doors, hand still clasped in his. Holding them up, both hands showed the lock disengaging as they walked into an open concept of sleek, angular designs. Designs that showed an aesthetic taste that reminded Shepard of Donovan Hock's mansion. Thick blue glass was quite a distance away from them in the main living area as the view looked out to the basins and small creek nearby. A planet mostly of orange landscape, the small patches of green stood out even more in this little backyard paradise when looked at through the colored glass.

Miranda's hand elegantly appeared to point to their left, "over there is Milgrom, that thumb sized gray dot. Fifteen minutes by standard shuttle."

"I can get there in ten."

"With your driving I doubt it would be in one piece." Miranda gasped slightly as Shepard moved behind her to nip her earlobe as she found it harder to pay attention, his hand wrapping around her waist into an embrace. Such an action made it seem like he was now fully malleable to anything she had planned, and Miranda felt more malleable to stopping the tour right now.

"Are we squatting?" He asked as his attention was taken away from the new residence and nestled his head on her shoulder.

"What? No, you simpleton. The previous owner fled to the Citadel at the beginning of the war. As you can see the place wasn't damaged, and I had Kasumi arrive earlier to replace the generators and do a clean sweep for anything out of the ordinary. Everything's spot on, though she might deliberately put a camera somewhere just to tease us."

"How early did she arrive?"

"As soon as you agreed to this," Shepard saw her wink reflect off the blue glass wall. He expected no other response as he broke away, not before lightly patting her on the rear.

As he began removing his armor he made sure to emphasize this point, "Thank you for at least waiting until I said yes."

"I'm not a monster, John," she said in pretend hurt as she pointed to the pile of greaves and chest plate, "there's a guest room that can be your makeshift armory, down the hall."

Shepard stared at her and thought she was joking. She wasn't. "We've got three weeks to ourselves and you're going to make me waste time putting this away. Come on."

"Are you pouting about taking five minutes to put it in its designated space? Can you act anymore childish?" Before Shepard went to pick up his pieces Miranda tossed him her helmet. "You need to take better care of your property, John."

At first Shepard didn't know if he meant herself or the building. And to be fair to the man even with her teasing he still had no idea. But her eyes moved around to make a point that she meant the house. He dropped the helmet and went back to her to embrace in a hug.

"That wasn't necessary." He could feel her body soften as he pulled her closer, knowing she was letting her guard down and solidifying her trust in him instead of looking to defend her reasoning. He loosened the straps on her breastplate as he kissed her neck, feeling the metal of her necklace on his lips.

"I know. But you deserve something nice. You have nothing to your name but rifles and armor."

"I have you."

Shepard felt her face flush as their cheeks touched. She left a peck on his as she touched her necklace, making her former habit become less a sign of insecurity and now a calming presence to avoid personal embarrassment.

Miranda's eyes narrowed as she looked up to him, Shepard knowing she had a smart-aleck response ready to deliver. "Besides, your Spectre status makes purchasing property so much easier."

"You just couldn't go without throwing in a joke."

"It's a habit everyone develops while aboard the Normandy."

Turning around in his arms Miranda almost whispered the last words as her eyes looked up to him, soft. "So your house right here gives us all we need, John. Safety, scenery, silence. After the delivery of course."

"Of course."

Omni-tool alarms started to sound on cue, the two returning outside to see a large cargo crate falling to the ground with thrusters activating to make the landing adequate.

"Ah, lovely. On time as well," Miranda said with a smile on her face as she looked forward to what was to come. No longer saving the galaxy, or her sister, or having to stop her father's egotistical ambitions, it was time to focus on herself. And John.

"Miri, it's on time because it came from the same place we did. I suggested we ride the container down and be as awesome as Blasto was in Blasto 3-"

He stopped talking as he heard her annoyed sigh. And like that Miranda's sigh was complimented with a pinch on the bridge of her nose, committing fully to hating his attempt at humor. Only she knew it wasn't an attempt from the man, he had genuinely suggested it, perhaps as a compromise to the request that they finally take shore leave. Perhaps her rejection of the idea is why he pouted during their freefall.

Outside the two saw the crate falling, the standard large container for delivering items to colonists and military across the galaxy, it's one-use thrusters helping the parachute slow the descent to the ground.

Shepard blocked out the sun with his hands as something else caught his eye in the sky. "We only needed one crate yet it looks like two are coming."

Confused, Miranda looked up to verify what he said. "You're...not joking. And that's not another crate. That's a shuttle."

Miranda's disdain could be heard as the shuttle barely became audible against Bekenstein's wind. The hum of the thrusters let it be known it was a standard Alliance Kodiak shuttle, which meant it came from one place, and probably contained someone who Miranda told repeatedly to leave the two alone.

Too bad sisters often felt the need to not listen.

The shuttle landed as it scorched the small pieces of grass below, and as the doors opened out sprang the younger Lawson. And Lieutenant Commander James Vega. And surprisingly, Dr. Karin Chakwas. The hulking soldier had a look that knew he was in trouble, ignoring Miranda's eyes and going straight to his Captain for mercy.

"Loco, I know sir, you were clocked out completely when you left the hangar but Chuckles here said she had something important to deliver. And she played up the sympathy card and the sister thing always works with Blues-"

Shepard just waved his hands of any involvement as his lover looked at the brawny marine with an incredulous look. "You're supposed to be N7, LC. Oriana's ten kilograms of sad eyes and an inability to pronounce names to their proper consonant total."

"And now with a deadly aim, don't you forget it, 'Randaaa.' " Oriana bragged as the modded Carnifex pistol of the late Zaeed Massani was holstered to her leg atop her Alliance BDUs.

Miranda seemed to draw a metaphorical line in the sand by coming to shuttle passengers, not wanting to let them invade her and John's space any further. To the side Vega quickly moved to Shepard as the Captain was unlocking the cargo crate.

"No more interruptions after this, Loco. Three weeks starts now. I guarantee it."

"It's fine, James. Really. I sort of hate how this has become such a big deal. Besides, the Normandy is better put to soaring out there as opposed to being a delivery service."

"And miss out on amazing missions such as cleaning space routes of war wreckage with our GARDIANS? Give me another Asteria, please. Even something as lazy as escorting the Citadel back to this nebula is better than being space janitor."

"I thought that's where we'd be, back on the station. Seeing how Intai'sei didn't get a seal of approval I don't see how there's much more to do out here."

Vega looked at his Captain with a dumbfounded look, not sure if he believed what he heard, "There's plenty to do, jefe, out here all alone with the stars and total quiet, no batarians or biotic monsters or Cerberus trying to kill you. I think. You got your weapons just in case, right?"

Shepard answered the man by pulling out a large container from the crate. James continued with a smile. "Nice. But that's you planning ahead. I bet right now, you probably got a bottle of champagne and some mood music-oof!"

The weapon case landed in Vega's chest with just enough force to remind the man to mind his manners as Shepard started tossing out foodstuffs and a duffel bags of clothes. "Less talking, more moving."

Meanwhile, Miranda was busy scolding her sister. "I was literally off the ship for twenty minutes before you came down here, do you expect me to not be annoyed with you?"

An exasperated older Lawson truly wanted to know. She liked planning ahead, making sure everything was in place, yet her sister took great pleasure in ignoring that and driving her crazy, making her feel like she was twenty years younger in emotional maturity. But oh did Miranda secretly cherish it, particularly following everything that had happened since they finally spoke years ago.

Oriana just shrugged her shoulders quickly as she held up her gift box. "You seemed to have left before you said goodbye, and I couldn't open the supply crate before Grunt pushed it out the hangar. So here, my treat."

At first look Ori's crate that she held in her arms contained common things, nothing worth such a big fuss. Expensive wine, some flowers likely picked up while the ship docked at the Citadel, and an old fashioned welcome rug lining the bottom of the box. Only in true Ori fashion, it read "Go Away." In human, turian, asari & salarian writing.

"Ugh," Miranda's face gagged as her sister kept a tooth filled smile looking her way, "this is how far we've come as a species, our gift to the galaxy. Novelty rugs." Internally, she was pleasantly surprised with the gifts, but not wanting to give Oriana credit after such a blatant disregard for her request of privacy.

"There's more, sis," Oriana kept drawing her eyes to the box, "go on then."

A cookbook. An actual paper book, nonetheless.

"You little brat!"

Reaching out an arm to do so but never one to actually strike her, Oriana dropped the box and ducked away as she ran to the house to now annoy Shepard, passing the invisible line Miranda tried to enforce moments earlier. Before she could turn around Chakwas gently touched the former operative's arm.

"Miranda, a moment, if you wouldn't mind not decking your sister," Chakwas asked as Miranda nodded politely, just as she took the welcome basket off the ground

They started walking casually, almost like an older mother mentoring her adult daughter during a family get together, the lifelong Alliance doctor regarding Shepard and Lawson as her children. Looking out at the view Miranda saw earlier, Chakwas dropped the small pill container into the box.

"You left this aboard the ship."

"I...know," Miranda said with just a tinge of regret, still looking away.

"Miranda, it's ok. Mordin's notes about tinkering the Clomophine is simply trying to strengthen your reproductive-"

"No, I know that, Karin," Miranda calling Chakwas by her first name had become commonplace now, showing the level of comfort she had with the woman, "I just don't believe it's time to think about that now."

"Nonsense."

"When it happens, it happens. Minimizing biotic use is the key thing I've been doing, but I just wish to be alone. With John. No ulterior motive or plans put into motion...there's so much I need to make up for."

"No there isn't," Chakwas quickly corrected her, "you're letting that brilliant mind wander back into some self-destructive ideas, Miranda. The only thing the Captain needs to worry about is surviving being alone with you for a few weeks."

Chakwas' deadpan delivery took Miranda by surprise as an arched eyebrow brought upon rarely seen shock on the younger woman's face before finally giving way to a smile and laugh. "Et tu, Medicus?"

"I'm not going to say there is nothing to talk about, Miranda. That's relationships. And you still need to tell him about your surgery. But from what I've seen since that man literally flew through space to save us, he's only thought about you. I think that stunning necklace is proof of that. Your sister said those rings sitting on this chain were from his Alliance medal Councilor Hackett bestowed upon him."

"She likes to talk."

"Excellent non-answer answer," Chakwas' gloved hand reached out to hold the three rings in her fingers. "I've never heard of anyone doing this. I don't get envious often, but this is making that emotion appear."

Miranda was looking a bit embarrassed as she stood there with half her armor on, the skin tight black undergarment making her feel more vulnerable. The doctor took notice and let go. "Just remember that if you continue to pout or cast doubt on this relationship while around me, I will slap some sense into you."

"Karin, never change."

The two smiled as the wind picked up. Oriana and the two men were out of the house, returning to the shuttle. The younger Lawson, always showing loveable side of herself to Shepard, took what luggage there was left in the container and brought it to the entryway.

"Alright Loco, I think it's time for us to depart."

"Uh huh."

"I now have the weight of the Normandy and her crew on these shoulders, have to get back and keep them in shape."

"Uh huh."

"Man, whatever."

Shepard held his hand out to shake his LC's hand. "Thanks, James. Just remember, if you and Ashley need help..."

"Call Garrus." Chakwas and Miranda had also finished that sentence with the two soldiers.

"Smart man."

They made their way to the shuttle as everyone regrouped, Vega firing up the shuttle as Chakwas hugged a goodbye from her Captain as well.

"John, show her that life doesn't have to be either/or."

The whisper and almost deliberate insubordination by calling her Captain by his first name proved how important her words were. The hug was finished as she kissed the man softly on the cheek and made her way back to the shuttle.

With the group disappearing as the shuttle lifted off to its mother ship, the two remaining humans looked to each other as they hoped there would be no more interruptions.

"Sisters are a nuisance," Miranda glibly said.

"I found our luggage in there," Shepard said as he pointed out the two cases of their clothes that was dragged out of the container, "still don't know how you got so much in yours."

"Perhaps there's nothing in there at all, hmmmmm?" her playful but oh so seductive tease opened up all sorts of thoughts about what this vacation would be as Shepard quickly made way to pick up the luggage. Before he took two steps Miranda threw out a swear directed at her now gone sister. Curious, Shepard looked over her shoulder as his lover pulled out a new pair of purple lingerie that was hidden under the novelty welcome mat, a note that contained a smiley face drawn inside a heart taped to the garment.

Milgrom was under curfew after midnight, an attempt to keep some control in a colony that was looking to be rebuilt to its former glory. A colony of five million was half that now, and much of the destroyed city was still off limits to civilians. That meant the surviving structures on the edge of the large capital became the bustling points of commerce as the buildings looked upon the empty middle of the capital. Not even close to the damage Earth received, many were content to deal with smaller reconstruction efforts in exchange for simply removing the rubble that until recently sat in the middle of the city.

Gianna Parasini found this out as she was busy running out of one of the taller standing buildings, a thirty story monolith, ignoring the curfew and running straight into the large desolate center of Milgrom. Security droids kept track of her as their lights focused on her position, screams of mercenaries at her back as she realized that this place was more like Illium than the brochures led on.

She could hear the gunfire of the mercs as they tried to get a fix on her but the distance was too great, even as the security droids floated right alongside demanding she leave the area or Alliance Police would be notified. After the fourth or fifth warning Parasini wondered if they ever would notify the authorities, or if they even had non-lethal capabilities to incapacitate her. It would likely be a PR nightmare for a rebuilding colony to have droids work in such a manner.

Still Gianna continued to run, pumping her arms as they held onto the high heels from the opposite leg, hating the rocky surface below but hating more that she felt her dress begin to stretch and tear. What a waste of the Noveria Development Corporation's per diem, she thought. Then again, after all she did for Internal Affairs to maintain proper business ethics and intellectual property for the overseeing body, they would be fine with this expense. She did make sure she had a receipt.

Turning hard right to a nearby group of surviving buildings the woman bit her lip as she finally saw the lights of a nearby condo complex. Trying to mitigate the look that she had just been on the run for the past few minutes, Gianna walked daintily across the empty street as if to look like a woman trying to avoid being caught by her parents, not corporate security guards.

Thankfully her acting paid off as an Alliance MP shouted for her to stop.

"Excuse me, ma'am, you need to be inside. No exceptions."

"Shhhhh!" She said, pretending to be drunk. If anything it helped her hide her heavy breathing as she felt as though she would pass out without taking more breaths. The thirty something woman reached out to the young MP for balance as she pretended the heels she held in her hands weren't from running but from a loss of equilibrium. "I'm...I'm very drunk right now."

"Your omni-tool, ma'am."

She held her hand out as the soldier synced the standard ID credential with his own device. It read her true name, but other aspects of her white-collar investigative work was changed. It showed she was proprietor of a local shoe boutique, a believable alibi for a planet trying to rebuild it's image as home to humanity's wealthy.

The young soldier remained stiff as he became a resting post for Gianna while her hand wiggled next to his. To his credit he continued to try and inform her of her options. "Ms. Parasini, you need to get to your residence. Curfew ends at oh six hundred. Hopefully enough time to sober up."

"I hope so too! An asari mistress wants my entire lineup! I love those blue people! They buy so many shoes!" Her happy smile immediately changed to a conflicted look, getting very quiet. "That reminds me, I need to pee. Really badly."

Crossing her legs she saw the soldier wanted to be anywhere but babysitting her. Which is exactly what she wanted to see. "I tried to cut through the center of the city but those droids scared me so much I thought I was going to get shot."

"So you're the reason the perimeter alarm went off."

"Guil-tyyy!" She returned to laughing in a sing-song voice while pointing to the residences behind the MP. "I need to get to there. Level eight. Eight is great." Knowing the young soldier was unable to really enforce anything against her performance, Gianna started walking to the doors, waving her arm in front but being unable to open it, naturally, since she didn't really reside there. She pretended to cry as the lock kept showing red instead of green while her orange omni-tool was waved in front with comical effect.

Before she could truly belt out the waterworks the MP had already used his own device to open the door. "It's alright, ma'am, I've got this for you."

"Thank you," the woman whispered as she held a finger in front of her lips, now being quiet as the soldier lightly waved goodbye, more thankful than anything that she had left without embarrassing herself anymore.

A thumbs up from Gianna as the elevator doors closed was the last bit of her acting as she finally reverted to her normal self. "I wish I owned a shoe store," she muttered aloud as she rubbed her feet, apologizing to them for the ordeal.

It didn't matter which floor she was going to wind up on, she simply needed a place to lay low until curfew ended. She could then return to her temporary residence under the traffic of the morning rush and decrypt the information she gathered from New Dawn Distributors. It wasn't theirs, after all, otherwise she wouldn't be doing this kind of work.

The small memory drive she now carried contained information that originated from fellow NDC firm Delumcore Systems. But as she exited the elevator her omni-tool's scans of the drive highlighted files that were recently modified. Curious, Gianna was never one to pass up such a temptation, but as the quick access file notes appeared, she stopped in the middle of the hallway.

"Shit."

The one word made her previously victorious shoulders slump. Realizing her simple act of righting corporate espionage just became more difficult, she looked for a nearby stairwell to simply sit down and wait until sunrise arrived. Now she really did wish she was drunk.

Hello all, and welcome to this follow-up to my previous story, Forgoing the Inevitable. What will be in store for Shepard and Miranda? Does that cookbook have a recipe for fixing Gianna's current predicament? Is Henry Lawson truly dead?

...yes to that last one. He's super dead. But stay tuned for the rest to unfold as we dial back the scope a bit to focus more on the one true pairing in the Mass Effect universe. Sure, others from the series will pop up, but nothing like this story's predecessor. You'll just see them pepper the chapters here and there like in the opening portion of this story (and on that subject, they never gave Major Coats a first name so a right proper British name was chosen in the form of Ian, smashing innit?)

So please stay around, check out the previous story if you haven't done so, and let's see what happens here. As always thanks for reading and reviewing.

*cover art from a picture on DeviantArt found years ago entitled "In Love & War" by skllhrt