A/N: The summary pretty much sums up the premise, but I'll elaborate: I always liked the idea of writing a background fic but I know I'll never find the time or the energy. Instead I've settled on little 'pieces' of the lives of the cast of characters of my Fate series. This way I can abandon all pretence at chronological sequence or flow and concentrate on doing character studies.

I'm going to shift between tenses, tone, and characters. I'll keep the rating at 'M' because there will likely be bad language throughout. There may even be occasional fluff (gasp!). There will be no set posting schedule but expect to encounter Shepard, Liara, Ashley, Miranda, Sam, and possibly others. If anyone has a suggestion for a 'piece' that fits within established Fate canon – perhaps a brief mention of something in CoF, AoF or No Impact that you'd like to see explored – drop me a PM and I might give it a go :-)

Chapter One
Stink Breath and Tofu Casserole

11 April 2167

Meet me in the bathroom at 1230 – second stall from the end. MF

She needs to read the message four times before it finally sinks in. The datapad is actually trembling in her hand when she sets it down on her desk. While she isn't sure if she should risk it, Evan Shepard cannot help but look up and search out the red-haired student amongst the line in front of her. Almost at that precise moment, the head turns and Megan French is smiling at her. It's fleeting, but it's enough to almost knock Evan off her chair. Her pulse races in ways that are usually reserved for the track. 1230 cannot come fast enough.

At the front of the class, Ms Soanes is saying something. It's too late that Evan realises her words at directed at the back of the classroom – at her.

"Evangeline-"

Evan! It's Evan. All her other teachers use Evan. She doesn't understand why Ms Soanes has to persist with using that horrendous name. That brand of torture is reserved for her mother.

"What was the name of the consortium that funded the settlement of Demeter in 2152?"

2152? Who the hell cares? It's before Evan's birth and therefore has absolutely no relevance to her life. When Ms Soanes talks about a war or a battle, she pays attention. Otherwise it's just white noise. Besides, she's meeting Megan French in the bathroom at 1230. "I don't…" Her voice trails off as she realises that the prospect of detention in the lunch hour could ruin everything. Think, Ev…you've done the reading.

"Delta Pavonis!"

Some arsehole pipes up next to her while her mind is still trying to work. It's Giles Hilton – consummate teacher's pet. Evan pictures launching herself across the desks and pummelling the little twat.

Giles looks smug as he continues, "Delta Pavonis founded the settlement of Demeter in 2152 - humanity's first extra-solar colony world. They also founded Eden Prime and…um…" His voice trails off, the last piece of information suddenly beyond his grasp.

Terra Nova. Evan did the reading last night, she remembers. "Terra Nova," she pipes up. She does her best to sound clever, as though she knew the answer all along. I would have known, she thought, enjoying the expression on the face of the boy across the aisle. If smarty-pants Giles had given me a chance.

"Thank you, Evangeline." Ms Soanes appears convinced for the time being. "Next time don't speak out of turn, Giles."

The rebuke is given in a temperate manner. Evan instinctively knows the part the teacher had to leave unsaid – 'give the slower students a chance.' Rather than feel patronised, Evan feels a sense of satisfaction in knowing that she will laugh the next time she breezes past Giles Hilton on the track.

A buzzer sounds. 1230 suddenly arrives and nothing that happens inside the classroom matters anymore.

Nervous beyond belief, Evan waits until the crush of students exiting the class dies down. While everyone else heads towards the cafeteria, she discreetly slips into the girl's bathroom. It's empty. When she knocks on the second stall from the end, there's a slight rustling sound behind it.

"Evan?"

"Yeah." Her throat is dry. Oh no, does my breath stink?

There isn't time to find out as the door opens and red haired Megan French grabs her by her shirt and pulls her inside. Although Evan has used these toilets countless times, she's never realised how small the stalls are. Megan is practically standing on her toes and she catches a whiff of a fragrant scent. It's nice. Evan doesn't wear perfume and she's still terrified that her breath stinks.

"Um, what do I do?" The question is stupid but it's all she can think to say. I should have complimented her! Evan feels like hitting herself over the head. Compliments are redundant when it comes to Megan French. She's bubbly, pretty, and popular – everything Evan isn't.

Megan smiles. She ignores the question. "I never realised, but you have really nice eyes."

"Um...thanks." Trembling slightly, her own smile is probably more of a grimace.

Unguarded, Evan is unprepared for the moment when Megan French is no longer simply standing toe to toe with her. She's close and then she's kissing her. Or at least Evan thinks that's what they're doing. Their lips are pressed together - it's wet, awkward and slightly messy. She still doesn't know what to do so she just stands there with her hands down by her sides, letting Megan do whatever she wants. Megan's eyes are closed so she follows suit. When her lips part slightly, Evan mimics the movement. It's still awkward, but beginning to feel nice. Experimentation tells her that it's best to keep her head tilted to one side so their noses don't get in the way.

Megan's lips are suddenly no longer there. Her eyes open and she finds Megan staring at her with a thoughtful expression on her face. At first Evan thinks the other girl is just taking a breath. The interruption is annoying, but she forces herself to remain patient. Her foot taps out a rhythm on the tiles at her feet, counting down the appropriate number of seconds until she can reinitiate the kiss. How long should she give her? Ten seconds? A minute? Evan decides that ten seconds is enough. The remaining taps are counted out, hastening toward the end as the anticipation becomes almost painful. This time around her hesitation is gone and she makes the move to grasp Megan's waist and draw their bodies together. A slight gasp of surprise escapes Megan's lips in the split second before Evan resumes the kiss with a desperate intensity. She knows that her efforts have improved since those first embarrassing moments and pride creeps into her chest as she decides that kissing is easy – not to mention exceedingly fun.

Evan loses all track of time. A minute could have passed, maybe more. Regardless, it's not enough. When she feels Megan place a hand on her chest to push her away, she is reluctant. There's a firm push and it's over for the second time. There's only one question on her mind, whether Megan will allow her a third kiss. She wants it badly enough. Perhaps she ought to press one hand up against the light swell of Megan's breast? This intriguing new prospect causes her stomach to flutter in interesting ways.

"Shit, Evan, anyone would think that you're actually into girls," Megan eventually says.

I'm not supposed to be into girls? Confusion floods her mind, completely shattering the fledgling confidence she felt just a moment ago. Megan's accusatory stare causes her to feel embarrassed at the way her breath comes in thick, heated gasps. She turns her head to one side but maintains a view of Megan out of the corner of her eye in an attempt to interpret the other girl's reaction.

"You know, that wasn't bad for your first time," Megan muses with a slight grin. She's completely unaware of the effect her smile has on Evan. "A little tip - don't be so enthusiastic when you kiss a guy. You need to tone it down or they'll start getting ideas about how far they can go. You don't want to be known as that girl."

The advice sounds oddly programmed. It has obviously come from her father. Although Evan doesn't have one of those to offer her advice, she has absolutely no desire to be known as that girl and even less desire to be enthusiastic about kissing boys. She's still struggling to process the news that she can't spend the rest of her life kissing girls. Suddenly kissing no longer seems so exceedingly fun.

Megan looks suddenly impatient – as though she has somewhere better to be. "We shouldn't be seen leaving together," she informs Evan sagely. "I'll go first. You wait five minutes."

Evan tucks her body against the side of the side of the stall as Megan prepares to open the door. The thought of possibly having one last kiss is ruined by the revelation that enjoyment was never the object of their dalliance. Megan doesn't say anything as she slinks out of their shared space. After watching her leave, Evan stands aimlessly in the middle of the stall and allows her brow to develop a deep furrow.

A quick glance at her chrono confirms that less than a minute has passed but she is impatient and feeling slightly claustrophobic. No one else is in the bathroom when she emerges. Evan doesn't normally waste time staring in mirrors but she wants to see if something has changed. She feels different. Her reflection stares back at her – the same scraggly dark hair frames her face and pale blue eyes. Her lips are swollen – that's different. When she touches them they tingle slightly and she asks herself if others will be able to notice.

The bathroom door flies open and a trio of senior students file in, all laughing merrily. They cast only cursory glances toward Evan before ignoring her as if she doesn't exist. With her fingers still pressed to her lips, she flees from the scene before they notice and start laughing at her.

There is already too much information in Evan's head waiting to be processed without filling it up with the afternoon's lessons. It's relatively easy to escape the school unnoticed. She's already had a lot of practice. No one outside of school cares that she isn't there. They're all too busy with real lives of their own, lives that actually mean something more than endless repetitive lessons.

Compared to school, the main flight deck is a veritable hive of excitement. A thrill of a different kind takes residence in her stomach. Evan likes this thrill better; it's not nearly as confusing as the other. Best of all, Megan French and her damnably kissable lips aren't there.

It isn't hard to find her friend, Bea Brooks. The Specialist is on her back beneath the wing of a fighter. Only her boots are visible but Evan would recognise that voice and that string of expletives anywhere.

"Get in there you fucking piece of shit…fuck!" Bea sounds pissed. Unlike other adults, Bea isn't shy about expressing her emotions. "Gordy…tell me you're there, you bastard?"

Evan glances around. Gordy's not there. She's wondering whether she should make a discreet exit before those expletives are directed at her. While she hopes that Bea doesn't care whether or not she is in school, she doesn't want to chance her informing her Mum.

"Hand me the number two driver will ya?"

It's not hard to find the requested tool in Bea's immaculately laid out toolkit. Evan selects the slender device and places it in Bea's outstretched hand – feeling infinitely more useful already. Idly she wonders whether thirteen is too early to leave school and get a real job. Almost thirteen, Ev, she reminds herself. Bea says 'fuck' a lot. Evan has already decided that thirteen is a good age to start using it herself – not around her mother or at school, but she can easily think it without getting into trouble.

"So…saw you and Riggs getting all up in each other's business the other night. If you don't fuck that one up you're onto a winner with that girl." Bea chats contently as she works. "Spill the details, mate. I've gotta get some vicarious fucking. My love life is drier than a nun's cunt at the moment."

Evan has absolutely no idea what that last part means…or any of it really. However Bea sounds exceptionally knowledgeable about such matters.

"Bea? Is it alright if a girl enjoys kissing another girl…instead of a boy I mean."

A loud crash follows a split second later. "Fu-" The curse is cut short rather abruptly and Bea slides out from beneath the fighter with a strange expression on her face. "Shepard Junior…hi. Aren't you supposed to be in school?"

The Specialist stands awkwardly, wiping her dirty hands on her pants. Although old (Evan isn't sure how old exactly, but she thinks Bea is as old as her Mum…which is old), Bea isn't much taller than her but she's stocky and muscular. Evan is as skinny as a weed with barely any meat on her bones. Bea keeps her hair cropped close to her head and there always seems to be a grin on her face. Most of the other technies tolerate Evan's annoying questions for short periods of time, but Bea actually seems to enjoy her company.

"Supposed to." Evan shrugs, hoping that if she looks nonchalant about it then Bea won't care either. "Can I hang out here with you?"

"Tell ya what, kiddo. You don't mention any of this to your Mum – not the stuff I was talking about before or letting you hang out – and I'll let you stay for a while at least."

"Deal." Evan is pleased. Blackmail had not even crossed her mind but now Bea has helpfully planted the idea. She is smart enough to know that it will be very useful.

"And I think you had better ask your Mum about such things – kissing and shi…I mean stuff," Bea continues.

Unimpressed, Evan purses her lips and shakes her head. "I can't talk to my Mum!" The thought leaves her feeling slightly sick to her stomach. "You're old, you must know these things!"

"Gee, thanks!" Bea replies, running her hands through her close cropped hair. "Trust me, talk to Shepard Senior, I'm not the right person to give you advice on that sort of thing. Tell you what, you stop bugging me about all of that and I'll teach you the best way to upgrade the cannons on one of these babies."

"Can I sit in the cockpit?" Evan flashes a grin. Bea's in a good mood, it's definitely worth a shot.

Bea sighs and Evan immediately knows that she has won this battle. "Sure thing."

Jubilant is the perfect word to describe Evan's mood when she arrives home later that afternoon. Spending the afternoon with Bea was miles better than being stuck in school. While she hasn't managed to forget about Megan French, she does feel better about life in general. With Bea's parting words being 'kiss whoever you want, kiddo,' Evan suspects that Megan might be full of bullshit.

Home – or the tiny, boxy suite of rooms she shares with her Mum - is empty and dark. Usually it's to be expected but today is different. There's no evidence of her Mum beyond a note written on the electronic board on the fridge. It's where they do most of their communicating.

Evangeline, the school contacted me to say you weren't in class this afternoon. I don't need to tell you how disappointed I am. There's a meal in the fridge. I won't be home until 2000 hrs so I expect you to have completed your homework and be prepared for lights out. I've locked out the wallscreen and the extranet. Mother.

The 'meal' is an uninspiring box that needs to be 'waved.' Upon seeing that it is Tofu casserole - something she loathes - Evan knows that she has every right to feel angry. Instead she feels the annoying sting of tears. Her afternoon with Bea already feels like a distant dream as she slams the box into the machine. Several moments later it beeps insistently to tell her that her box of utter crap is ready to eat.

Evan dumps it on the table and sits. The wrapper burns her fingers as she peels it off and the smell assaults her nostrils. She's no longer hungry now that she can see the contents clearly.

"Happy thirteenth birthday, Ev," she mutters to herself.