Samantha Traynor set down her duffel bag and looked at the little house. She knew she was one of the lucky ones, getting special accommodations because she'd been part of the Normandy crew. It wasn't very big, but she'd grown used to practically living out of a shoebox, so Sam didn't think there would be any problems.
"Congratulations, Traynor," she muttered to herself. "Thinking of the Normandy and you didn't even cry yet." Her throat constricted as soon as she'd spoken the words, though, and Samantha rolled her eyes and redirected her thoughts before she could think of the fallen commander.
"Specialist?" the Alliance driver called from behind her. "We've got one more thing for you, special orders from HQ."
Samantha swallowed her emotions and turned around, puzzled when she saw another Alliance taxi landing. The driver approached the cab and opened the door, and Sam watched in confusion as the man led a retriever out of the cab.
The dog perked up at the sight of Samantha and ran over, wagging the whole way. Samantha crouched down to meet it, rubbing at its ears automatically. "What…?"
The driver shook his head. "I can't tell you more, ma'am. HQ just said to make sure the dog got to you."
Sam nodded numbly and stared at the dog. The taxis lifted off in the background, but Sam's mind was far away.
A gentle touch on her arm startled Sam out of her thoughts, and she turned to see Shepard smiling at her. Her heart leapt into her throat and she had a million things she wanted to say before they hit the Sol relay.
"Traynor…" Shepard murmured.
"So this is it, then, isn't it?" Words began falling out of Sam's mouth and she did her best to stop them, to have one coherent conversation with the commander. "Are you ready?"
Shepard's smile hardly wavered. "As much as anyone can be."
Samantha nodded like she wasn't scared out of her mind for the woman in front of her. It wasn't fair. Shepard had run herself ragged; surely someone else could finish off the Reapers. But then again, that was part of what she loved about Jane Shepard: her determination to see things through to the end. "Good."
Shepard laughed weakly. "Here's hoping."
Samantha felt a lump begin to rise in her throat and started talking to prevent it. "So, this is what it's like to prepare for the end of the world. I expected more yelling, honestly." Sam cringed inwardly. "I… Thanks. For everything. It's been wonderful, even if we don't end up with the house with the white picket fence and the two kids…" Her words stung and Samantha shook her head. "Sorry, stupid joke."
Shepard stepped closer and took Samantha's hands in her own, her thumbs rubbing over Sam's knuckles. "That sounds pretty good to me."
Something in Sam's chest ached, hoping against hope that somehow, that future could be a reality. "Good, because I wasn't really joking. I want all of it, a big house, a white picket fence, and a dog, maybe a retriever of some sort." Samantha knew she was babbling, but it was that or start crying. "Are you taking notes?"
Shepard smiled and squeezed Samantha's hands. "I'll remember," she promised, then stepped forward and wrapped Samantha up in a hug.
Samantha swallowed hard and shook herself out of the memory. She stared at the dog for a few moments, belatedly realizing it had a collar on. With a shaking hand, she reached for the tag and tilted it into the light.
Sorry. - J
Tears stung in Sam's eyes and she couldn't breathe past the lump in her throat. The dog was still wagging as it licked her face, and Sam leaned forward and wrapped her arms around it, burying her face in the dog's fur and crying for the woman she loved.
