Inspired by this imagineyourotp post: "Imagine your OTP having never met at all. But one day as Person A is walking throughout the park, they spot Person B just a few feet away. Person A stares at Person B, feeling the strongest connection, or as if they've met each other somehow. Person B looks towards Person A and their eyes widen, unmistakably feeling that same connection."
Shepard leaned back against the park bench and breathed in the fresh spring air. It was a beautiful day, balmy and breezy and, for once, not raining. The weather, unfortunately, did not match her mood.
She wasn't sure why she'd stayed in Vancouver. It had been different when she'd had purpose, but now, three children, two grandchildren, and one divorce later, here she was, retired from the desk job she'd been relegated to after too many years in the field, with no family nearby, no career, and nothing to do.
She snorted at that thought and sat up again. Age may have taken the red out of her hair, and maybe a little of the speed out of her step, but her back was still straight and her eyes were still clear, thank you very much.
What did people do when they were no longer useful? She could find a hobby, she thought with resignation. Gardening, maybe. She sighed. She didn't feel like a wrinkled old lady, but the face she saw in the mirror every morning told her otherwise.
She was jolted out of her reverie by a panting ball of fur cannoning straight into her knees. A huge, fluffy mutt planted its paws on her lap, tail wagging, and looked up at her with a wide doggy grin.
Shepard grinned back. "Hey there," she said, and held out her hand for the dog to sniff.
"I'm so sorry," said an out-of-breath voice from somewhere over her shoulder. "He does that sometimes. Are you okay?"
"Of course," she replied. She ruffled the dog's fur as she turned her head, and stopped cold when she caught sight of its owner.
He looked to be around her own age, maybe older, with still-broad shoulders, a nose so straight it might have been drawn with a ruler, and a thick head of hair that she was reasonably sure was real. He must have been terribly handsome when he was young. Hell, he was handsome now, slight paunch and all.
She looked into his eyes, and she felt a spark of...was it recognition? She'd always prided herself on her memory for faces, but when she flipped through her mental file, nothing came up.
Her uncertainty was mirrored on his face. "Do I know you?" he asked.
She didn't think so. She'd gotten some press after Elysium, but that had been fifty years ago, and if he remembered her from that, his memory must be damn near eidetic. Even if it was, though, his connecting that girl with the woman she was now was unlikely.
"Not as far as I know." She stuck out her hand. "Kate Shepard."
He shook it. "Kaidan Alenko."
His grip was firm and warm, and her heart gave an unexpected skip of excitement. Uh-oh, said a little voice in her head. An even smaller voice whispered, why not?
With a start, she realized she'd been holding his hand for too long, and she dropped it, hoping he hadn't noticed. "Do you want to sit down?" she asked, before she could stop herself.
"Sure," he said.
As he settled in opposite her on the bench, she couldn't hold back a smile of anticipation.