A/N: So. I have a confession. I actually don't know a lot about horses, or training them, or riding them. I know enough to know how much I don't know, if that makes sense. And I'm willing to do the research required to fill in the gaps. But if I make a mistake, or use the wrong term, know that I'm trying. I actually know a lot more about dogs, but it seemed more probable to me that a rich asshole in the future would want to show off by buying pretty horses than dogs. And I did grow up in the country, and I do know some about horses. But I suppose you could picture me as this nonetheless: i1. kym -cdn photos / images / original /000 / 234 / 765/b7e . jpg (remove spaces).

And now, onward! To more exposition...


The sun was bright when they stepped off of the shuttle. Baxter pulled so hard to get to a nearby tree that Shepard was almost pulled over as she exited, instead dropping her bags and running. The poor guy hadn't peed on anything in, like, three hours, and before that he only got one chance, when they transferred from the deep space transport ship to the planetary shuttle transport. Most unsatisfactory for a dog. By the time Shepard was heading back to the landing area, the shuttle was gone, leaving James sitting on a suitcase with his guitar out, tuning it idly while waiting for Shepard to return. As they had no idea where they were going, they were stuck waiting for a while, until someone from the estate came to meet them, so he figured he may as well pass the time on something entertaining.

"Hey," James greeted as she approached, gesturing to her mandolin. The invitation to join him was clear, but she decided not to for now, shaking her head. She wanted to be able to hear when their escort showed up, and her chosen instrument was not one she liked to play quietly. He played for a few more minutes, in which time Shepard decided to go ahead and let Baxter off the leash, with an admonishment to stay close. She didn't want to sit. She'd been sitting for close to fourteen hours, and her ass had gotten numb from it at one point, despite the "comfort" design of the seats on the transport and shuttle. She snorted to herself. Comfort Design my ass. Literally…

She finally broke her silence, kicking at the dirt under her feet. "This place at all like the colony you grew up on, Diego?" It reminded her of old Western vids she'd seen. The colony she'd grown up on was dry, but not dusty like this place. It was lush and green, with lots of bodies of water without being too humid. It got plenty hot in the summer, though, just in time for the harvest of her family's chosen crops.

"Yeah, actually. Dry, dusty, with brown grasses and not a lot of shade. Exactly like the colony I grew up in. From what I know, that's the kind of climate our trade was born in."

"I think you're right, if all of those old, bad Western vids have anything to do with reality. I might actually use the leather chaps in this weather, instead of just getting bruised by bucking horses." In more humid weather, the leather was a recipe for overheating, and made her unbearably uncomfortable. In dry weather like this, it was still hot, but didn't make her clothes stick to her for the hours and hours she worked per day.

"You wear those, Lola, and I might not be able to concentrate on the horses," said James, grinning. Shepard rolled her eyes and kicked a pebble at him. He chuckled to himself and went back to his guitar. "So why are we out here in the middle of nowhere?"

She looked around. She could see the fence surrounding the estate in the distance, behind it trees, but no buildings visible. "You got me," she said with a shrug. "But this is where the public shuttle lands. Maybe he's just paranoid?" She knew he was, because she knew the type – she'd trained horses for the type as a teen. He was a rich, paranoid bastard, and didn't want anyone coming onto his land without his express permission. She guessed there was probably a kinetic barrier around the whole estate, the fence just a decoration. It most assuredly meant he was doing something illegal, though, wanting to monitor all feet coming onto his land.

As she thought it, she saw it – the barrier around the estate flickered, and a sky-car flew out. Not two minutes later, it was landing before them, both doors rising with the sound of hydraulics. There was no driver. They immediately grabbed their bags and stowed them in the back while Baxter happily hopped in. Shepard and James looked at each other a moment, neither wanting to sit alone up front. They made a dash for the remaining back seat, Baxter having already claimed the other. James won, a grin on his face at his victory, and Shepard forced herself to not grumble aloud as she moved around the car to the passenger's seat.

The five minute drive was uneventful, to say the least. They were dumped in front of a large, multi-storied building, the car's automated pilot program taking the car away once their bags were on the ground. Shepard resisted the urge to swear. Instead, she examined the building, and was reminded of descriptions of large estates in old books, and of the old plantation houses in the American South. It was white, with a wrap-around porch, three stories, windows, balconies, the whole nine yards, really. A closer inspection showed that it was at least constructed out of modern materials, though, not wood and brick. All in all, Shepard was left with the impression that this was a disgustingly rich, paranoid bastard who liked to play cowboy, or maybe plantation owner. She hoped she didn't run into him too much – it was going to be hard to keep her dislike from showing on her face for long stretches.

She took her hat off and ran a hand through her red, not-quite-shoulder-length hair, replaced the hat, and grabbed her things. "Come on, Diego, let's go." She clicked her tongue at Baxter, who immediately stopped trying to mark the flowers in front of the house, joining them on the steps to the porch.


A knock sounded at the door. That will be the horse-trainer, thought Samantha, wiping her hands on a towel and running on the balls of her bare feet to the front door of the main house. She no longer rolled her eyes at the hinges and the need to open it manually, having gotten used to it some time ago. Her breath caught in her chest, however, at the sight the door revealed. In front of her was one of the most beautiful women she'd ever seen. She wore loose-fitting jeans, work boots, a ribbed tank top that left almost nothing to the imagination, and topped it off with a brown leather cowboy hat over blood-red hair. The hat was removed momentarily, tipped like an old Western gentleman, pushing strands of the hair around, some brushing into her face in a very attractive way.

"Afternoon," the woman said, her voice rich and a little deep. Green eyes flashed above the smattering of dark freckles on skin that was clearly tanned darker than its natural hue. "We were hoping to speak with the master of this fine estate. We're the horse-trainer and farrier he hired." We? Samantha's vision suddenly expanded from the breath-taking woman in front of her, finally allowing her to see a large, similarly dressed, dark-skinned man and a giant of a dog, some kind of shepherd. They were surrounded by luggage.

She finally found her tongue and managed an "of course," ripping her eyes away and casting them toward the floor. "However," she added, "he is not here at the moment. He arranged for you to start your tasks while he is away on business." She took a step back, allowing them to enter the house. They took the unspoken invitation, each grasping handfuls of luggage so as to enter, allowing the door to be shut behind them. "If you wait a moment, I can show you where you'll be staying." She hurried away with the woman's assenting nod, leaving them standing in the entrance, hands tucked into pockets. The dog sat obediently at the woman's feet at a murmured command.

"Steve, can you please assist me? Our new employees have a lot of luggage that needs to be taken to their room." She was back in the kitchen now, spying her fellow as he was just about to leave, an apple in-hand. He looked at it longingly before replacing it, nodding his assent to her. She smiled and turned to return to the entrance, but was stopped when a small boy came padding up to her.

"Momma? Can I meet the new people?" He held on to her skirt once next to her, tugging to be let up. She knelt down next to him.

"Adam, sweetie, I can't carry you right now. I have work to do. But you can come along if you promise to be quiet and not bother them, alright?" He nodded his assent, very similarly to the way Steve had just done, and walked with her silently into the entranceway, still holding on to her skirt. He couldn't contain himself any longer when he saw the dog, however.

"Doggie!" He let go and ran forward, immediately throwing his arms around the giant animal, showing the kind of unbridled enthusiasm solely reserved for children of his age. The dog allowed him, sniffing what parts of the boy he could reach, glancing up at the red-haired woman for permission to play. She smiled and nodded her head, and the dog stood up, licking the boy's face once he'd pulled back.

"Adam, no-" Samantha began, but was cut off by the captivating redhead before her.

"It's alright with me if it's alright with you," the woman said, smiling indulgently. "Can they play down here while you show us where we're staying? He's very well-trained – he won't hurt anything."

"I suppose that's alright... Yes, okay, well, if you'll follow me," and Samantha was off, leading the two guests and Steve, all heavily laden with luggage, through a door off to the side and out of the house, striding several meters before veering off toward a one-story, rectangular building some distance from the main house. She was incredibly self-conscious, aware of how little of her body her "uniform" really covered, especially when her stride was lengthened as it was now. Something about the red-haired woman got her heart beating and her mind racing in a way that hadn't happened in years. Well, there was one other person who did that to her…

She led them to a room in the building, with two twin beds, a wooden desk with a terminal on top, and two windows with a view of the lands of the estate. She made to leave right away, but was stopped by the sight of her son padding into the room, followed by the giant dog. It almost looked as though the dog had been herding him. She raised an eyebrow pointedly at the boy as she spoke. "Adam, the implication was that you would stay in the house," she said, unable to hide her smile as he and the dog both cast their heads down in similar postures of shame at her admonishment.

"Aww, it's alright," said the giant man that had so far remained silent. He addressed the dog. "Baxter was probably just making sure to follow us, and didn't wanna leave the little guy alone, right Baxter?" The dog's head shot up at his name, his tail wagging hopefully.

"Well," she said, being glad for the protective set of eyes on her son, despite his disobeying. "I suppose, in that case…"

"You know," said the redhead, "we're not slated to start really working until the morning. If you need someone to watch him while you finish your work, I could sic Baxter on him. He's an excellent herding dog, won't let him out of his sight." The woman took her hat off, placing it on one of the beds, effectively claiming it as her own. Samantha consented to the babysitting with her eyes downcast and one curt nod. "Adam, right?" The redhead addressed the boy, getting his attention. "That okay with you?" He nodded as well, his face lighting up in a grin. "Well alright, then!" She looked up to Samantha and Steve, considering them for a moment. "I'm Lola, by the way. This is Diego." She extended a hand.

She was met instead with downcast eyes.


Shepard just raised her eyebrow, pulling her hand back with a sidelong glance at James. Slaves. Damnit.

James recovered first. "Right, well, we should let you get back to work. We'll, uh, just get settled. You can send the dog back if he gets annoying." They both nodded and herded the boy out of the room with them, Baxter following jovially.

Shepard shook her head. "I don't understand it, Diego, I just don't. Why would a human own human slaves? I mean, I get the idea of owning other species – I don't agree, but I get it. But if you're all about human supremacy, why would you purchase humans?!" She ran her hands through her hair in frustration at her inability to just bomb the place and ride off into the distance with all of the slaves in tow, finally throwing herself onto the bed with a groan.

James sighed. "I know, Lola, I know. You gonna be able to do this around them?"

It was Shepard's turn to sigh. "You know me. I get the job done. This is just a different kind of obstacle, is all." She considered for a moment. "She was cute, though, wasn't she?"

James snorted. "Yeah, I can see it's gonna be real hard for you to be here." He sat on his own bed, pulling his guitar out of the case again, ignoring her slight smile. "So you gonna join me this time, or what?"

Shepard's smile turned into a full grin. They got a whole afternoon to themselves, with no one around to complain about their loud playing and poor singing. She jumped up, and within a minute they were tuned to each other and playing an old bluegrass standard.


"Is the doggie ours now, momma?"

"No, Adam, the dog belongs to the woman he came with. But you can play with him while I work, alright? No pulling on his tail or fur, though, or it's a timeout and I send him back." He nodded, running off to play with the dog outside. She watched him with a smile on her lips. His fourth birthday would be next week. Maybe she could talk his father into letting him have a puppy. Her smile faded as she considered what she'd have to do for the man in order to make that happen. She repeated her mantra to herself: Adam is worth anything. He's worth anything.

Steve chuckled, bringing Samantha out of her dark thoughts. "That dog is bigger than him. I'm amazed he isn't scared of it."

Samantha chuckled as well. "Yes, I'm sure if I let him, he'd approach those hell-beasts those trainers were hired for. And then I wouldn't have a son, so don't let him until they're under control, alright?"

Steve nodded, laughing and grabbing the apple he'd surrendered fifteen minutes earlier before heading outside to whatever task he'd been about to start at that time. Samantha reached to adjust her skirt, which had been sent askew by Adam's earlier grip, but stopped dead when she felt another pair of hands begin to help her. Once finished, the hands caressed her hips, traveling up to her waist and encircling her from behind. The familiar feel of the skin on her stomach, along with the sight of the blue hue of those hands, set Samantha at ease, settling her into the embrace as a blue face rested its chin on her shoulder. "He really is such a wonderful child, Samantha."

Samantha settled further into the embrace, humming her assent. "I just…" She sighed, turning in the embrace, hugging the asari who had come to mean so much to her. "My plan never included raising a son as a slave, Liara."

"I know, Samantha. But you have done a wonderful job with the cards you were dealt."

"Yes, well, it helps to have you, nonetheless." She kissed her, feeling more than hearing the hum Liara made into her lips. These moments were few and far between. The other slaves knew of their relationship, and with their master gone, they could be more open than normal in their affections. She pulled back before their kiss could become more heated. "And it helps that he thinks of you as his other parent, rather than that man."

"Well, I love you, and I love him. If I could take the both of you away from here, I would." She nuzzled her nose, a human sign of affection she had gladly adopted, then pulled away completely. "Come. We must still work, even if we have more freedom with him gone." She absently fingered the metal collar around her neck as she went back to the kitchen. Samantha's anger simmered once again with the way Liara now took the collar that negated her biotic ability as a matter of course, playing with it the way she might a necklace.