Chapter 2

Samantha's homecoming went just as she'd expected it would. Her mother took one look at her and started in on how thin she'd gotten ("It's not my fault, Mum! The base serves terrible food! Besides, you know how I get when I get lost in a nerd-problem!"), her brothers had each grown a foot since she'd seen them last (and they had facial hair now! Who said that was allowed to happen?!), and her father just engulfed her in a hug and welcomed his Sammy home. The Awkward didn't start until Penelope had arrived twenty minutes later. She had sat through two hours of dinner seated next to the woman she used to shag regularly, both of them over the other and only sticking around because her mum wanted them together and they were polite to make a scene during dinner. Then Penelope had made some excuse, left, and Samantha had been free.

She had proceeded to have leftovers of her mum's food – really, the only reason she had lost all that weight from her high school years was because she couldn't eat her mum's home cooking any longer – and then stayed up late watching vids with her giant little brothers.

The boys were identical twins, seventeen and in their final year of high school. Timothy planned on joining the Alliance like Samantha had, getting through University on his good grades and aptitude scores, while Richard planned to go into the family business – namely, agri-business. They'd been accidents ("The most delightful kind," her mother had said), born eight years after Samantha herself had come into the world. Surprise twins were not something most people could handle, but her parents had done admirably, and had had Samantha's help once she was old enough. In addition, they'd done quite well for themselves, her father developing a new technique for germinating more seeds in a given batch. Her tendency toward tech and computers definitely came from him.

After vids – terrible, terrible zombie vids that they rejoiced in – Samantha had gone to bed in her old room, the family's giant lab mix, Boomer, snuggled up with her under the sheets. Thank God she was allergic to cats, and not dogs.

Now it was morning, however, and she was regretting letting the dog sleep with her. She'd only gotten about six hours of sleep and now Boomer was awake and needed to go outside to pee. And he couldn't open the damn door himself.

"Fine!" she half-shouted, exasperated. She slid out of bed, where she'd slept in her panties and a tank top, and padded barefoot over to the door, opening it with a twist of the handle. The doors leading outside were the more high-tech kind with proximity detectors – for dog and people – and the ability to be programmed. The inner doors, however, were the regular knob-and-latch variety, the need to open and close automatically a feature her parents could hardly afford when they first purchased the prefab over twenty-five years before. In classic colony style, they had kept the prefab that long, upgrading what needed it as they went along – waste not, want not.

Closing the door and padding back to bed, Samantha had just slipped gratefully back under the sheet – it was bloody hot on this part of Horizon right now, despite it being February on Earth, so the blanket sat pooled at the base of the bed – when her omnitool buzzed on her side-table. Groaning, Samantha reached for it, turning off the alarm that she had set so she could get in her morning jog before the heat was too intense. The heat and humidity were excellent for the favored crops in the area, but if Sam sweated too much her skin reacted and she broke out in itchy hives. Nobody wanted to see that, and Sam sure as hell didn't want to feel that.

She would skip the jog altogether, but her quarterly physical fitness test was the day after she was scheduled to return from her two weeks of leave. She was stuck exercising if she wanted to pass, which she sort of had to do if she wanted to stay in the military and work in her dear, dear R&D labs. So a month before the test she took up jogging and pushups again, forcing herself to eat more to put on some muscle. With the shitty food they provided on base, she was never at risk for going over the weight maximum for her height; she was at risk of coming in under the weight minimum. A problem she'd never had when she was younger, what with her mother's home cooking and her tendency to stay still inside all day programming and helping her father design ag-tech.

Highly resentful toward her running shorts and sports bra, Sam got dressed, pulling back her hair into a low ponytail before tying her running shoes on. At least I have someone to come along with me, she thought to herself, smirking as she imagined pouncing on her brothers in their room to wake them up.

She was doomed to be disappointed, however. She found Timothy and Richard both in the living room, tying their own shoes, Boomer waiting nearby wagging his tail. Their community was close-knit and the dog well trained, so they never bothered leashing him up for this, instead letting him run near them free from a tether.

"Are you boys ready?" she asked, going into the kitchen to fill the small bottle she carried with her while she ran.

All she got were grunted affirmative responses. Oh, the Traynors. None of them had ever been morning people. It was the biggest reason why her dad developed tech for farming, and didn't farm himself. He never would have survived having to get up before the sun during the harvest season, especially with the absurdly long days Horizon had.

They got moving pretty quickly, letting the rising sun and the cool (relatively speaking) air wake them up some. Her brothers started bantering, teasing her about the awkward visit with Penelope the night before, and how Mum had decided to be the woman's friend and how weird it was.

"Weird for you?!" she huffed, breathing hard now that they were fifteen minutes in. Exercise had never really been her thing. "Are you really making my ex-girlfriend being friends with Mum about you?!"

"What do you want?" Timothy retorted, smacking her arm. "We're kids. Egomaniacal pre-humans whose brains aren't done developing."

She narrowed her eyes over at him. "I'm going to regret comforting you with that bit of information, aren't I? You're going to blame every selfish little thing you do on that and never actually be a bloody human being."

Richard tutted. "Language, Sam!"

"Oh, shut your arse," she threw back at him, smiling despite herself at both their snorts of laughter.

They continued their run, calling Boomer away from Greyson's flowerbed when they reached the edge of the settlement. It was a clearing occupied by workers going to the fields to man the harvesting machines, the hour being quite early, but it had one addition Samantha noticed immediately: the (very attractive) Alliance officer.

Lieutenant Ashley Williams stood with the early morning sun shining on her well-muscled arms. Her hair was in a bun, standard for military women with long hair. She wore combat boots, fatigues that hugged her hips but were loose down her legs, and a ribbed sleeveless undershirt tucked into the pants. She was shiny with sweat, moving a heavy crate from a pile of them over to the very center of the clearing. The sweat gleaming on her arms was utterly delectable, and made Sam wonder what might happen if she simply wandered up to the woman and ran her tongue from the glorious cap of her shoulder all the way up her neck to her earlobe and nibbled there.

Sam was so distracted that she didn't hear her brother's warning. With a cry, she rammed her knee right into the bench of the picnic table the workers often used to eat their lunches. A split-second later, her stomach hit the edge of the actual table, and she wrenched to a halt, her face smacking into the tabletop. Other than a strangled cry, she didn't even let out a sound. She just felt pain. Her knee was in bad shape, feeling almost hyper-extended. Her nose was surely broken, with how it throbbed. She could taste the iron of blood in the back of her throat, and when she opened her eyes, she could see the bright red of the blood dribbling out of it and onto the wooden table. Her stomach felt like she'd been punched, and her breasts smarted from where they'd hit the table.

Mostly, however, she was completely and utterly mortified. An emotion not helped by the simultaneous sounds of her brothers dying with laughter, and the slightly gruff "Jesus!" yelled by the object of Sam's distraction.

Hands roughly grabbed her shoulders, trying to pull her up. "Christ, are you okay?"

"Just leave me," she moaned dramatically. Her nose was swollen shut now and it sounded like her sinuses were completely plugged up. And there were surely tears on her cheeks, though she could at least blame them on the smart from her nose. "I'm working on blending into the table…"

The woman chuckled, but pulled Samantha to her feet all the same. Those delicious, sweaty, beefy arms were now so close… too bad Samantha had been an utter twit. Ashley's concern was palpable, but at the same time, a grin pulled at her lips. "What were you doing? Trying to vault the table?"

Sam tried to look indignant, but knew she was failing, with her bloody face, teary eyes, and one of her legs unable to take much weight. At least she could do "sardonic" well in her tone of voice. "No, thank you very much. We were jogging. And I… didn't see the table…"

Her brothers hooted in laughter again. Boomer was with them, wagging his tail hopefully, his tongue lolling out. He didn't know what all the excitement was about, but he was determined to be a part of it.

Ashley smirked. "Didn't see it, huh?"

"Shut it. I know it's lame."

Ashley held up her hands conciliatorily. "Alright, alright. Here, let me look at that." Samantha hissed and pulled away when the lieutenant touched the bridge of her nose. "Mmmhmm. It's broken. If you just-" and before she could finish, she thrust both hands out, landing them on either side of Sam's nose and jerking. A moment of hot pressure and stinging pain followed, a moment in which Sam yelled and prepared herself to give Ashley an injured look and yell, "How could you!" But then there was sweet, sweet relief, the pressure and pain both abating, leaving her with a dull, quiet throb and blood that was now able to pour freely out her nose, leaving her throat alone.

She spit blood even as it dribbled down onto her sports bra, then looked up at Ashley sheepishly. "Sorry. I know that's completely disgusting, but I can't swallow it on an empty stomach…"

Ashley smiled. "Hey, I get it, I've had my nose broken before. Though, I can't say it was by a mean, nasty table…"

"Oh, you little arsehole!" Sam cried, moving to hit Ashley on one of her perfectly molded arms. Unfortunately, this made her put too much pressure on her injured leg, and she started to crumple like wet tissue paper. Only those strong, sweaty arms kept her from finding the ground.

"Right. You can't walk home." Before Sam knew it, Ashley had an arm under her knees, and she was hoisted into the air with the other arm behind her shoulders. Samantha let out an undignified yelp, instinctively wrapping her arms around the dashing lieutenant's neck. Turning to the smirking twins with the knowing looks, Ashley asked, "You're her brothers?"

Timothy nodded. "Yep."

"Cool. Mind showing me the way?"

Timothy and Richard shared a look. "Actually, if she's not gonna die, we should really finish our run. Why don't you tell her how to get home, Sam? We'll take care of Boomer before we go to school."

They took off immediately, but not before Sam caught their eyes, highly resenting the knowing gleam she found there. Frowning, she glared daggers into their retreating backs. She did not need her teenage brothers' help in getting women. Though, she couldn't deny the flutter in her stomach at the feel of being in one Ashley Williams's arms.

"Well that was rude," the lieutenant huffed, staring off after Sam's brothers.

Sam tried to shrug. "They're egomaniacal kids – they're brains aren't done yet. They're bound to do selfish things."

Ashley's eyes slid to hers. "Yeah, well… it's still rude." Hefting Sam's weight like she weighed nothing, she added, "Come on. Tell me how to get to your place."

And what will we be doing when we get there? I really wish I could shag you on my childhood bed. I'd start with that bead of sweat I can see trickling down to the hollow in your throat. God, I wish I could put my tongue there-

Shaking her head to silence her Internal Monologuer, Sam pointed. "Head that way."

Ashley set off, carrying Samantha in her arms. She stared resolutely ahead, allowing Samantha an unencumbered view of the woman's face. The lieutenant was pretty, her skin several shades lighter than Samantha's, her hair just as black. Her brown eyes reminded Samantha of her mother's. She was taller than both Samantha and Rithu Traynor by what felt like half a meter, though it was likely half that. All in all, Ashley was tall, well-muscled, and lean, her beefy – yet not completely unfeminine – frame doing all kinds of wild things to the butterflies in Samantha's stomach.

"So you're up early. Aren't you supposed to be on vacation?"

Sam was startled out of her examination by Ashley's attempt at making conversation. "Oh! Um, yes… I have my physical fitness test almost the moment I get back to Earth. Between my mother's cooking and my tendency to stay still, if I don't force myself out running then there's no way I'd pass it. As for how early it is… it's bloody hot this time of year. I'd die if I tried going out running much later."

Ashley smiled. "Yeah, that's why I'm out this early, too – wanted to get the heavy lifting done as early as I could so I didn't die out there, as you put it."

Sam giggled, relishing the slight widening of Ashley's smile at the sound. After a moment, she asked, "So what are you setting up?" Furrowing her brow, she finally figured out what was so odd about Ashley's presence here as a solider. "And why are you here? And all alone? Shouldn't lieutenants be in charge of more than themselves?"

Ashley's smile fell, and she got the official Solider Look. "One is all the settlement would allow. You guys are real serious about keeping the Alliance out."

Sam shrugged. "Paranoid backwoods buggers, the lot of them. But I love them dearly. So why are you here?" she pressed. "Also… turn here – my parents' prefab is down this way."

Ashley sighed as she changed direction, her eyes flitting to make contact with Samantha's. "You're aware, I'm sure, of the colonies that have gone dark? People disappear, no one knows why?" At Sam's nod, Ashley's eyes slid forward again as she continued walking, bearing Sam's weight easily still. "The Alliance is reaching out and offering whatever protection colonies are willing to take. Discovery accepted AA guns, and one single solider to oversee the installation. Tech isn't my forte, exactly, but big damn guns are. And these are some big damn guns."

Samantha was quiet. She wasn't sure what to think. Ashley was funny about it, yes, but still – "big damn guns" being set up to protect them from this unnamed, nebulous threat was disconcerting, to say the least. "Won't having them there just attract attention?" she mused, remembering her parents talking in her youth about how unless the force was big enough to wipe out anything smaller than an army, having an Alliance presence in your colony was like a big fat bull's eye for slavers and pirates.

Ashley sighed, rolling her eyes. "That's a pretty common thing for people from these colonies to think. It's not entirely untrue, but these aren't slavers. Slavers don't take everyone with no bodies. Shit, Samantha, there isn't even blood left behind. Whoever's taking our people, it's not the normal kind of threat. Better to protect yourself than not, I say."

Samantha thought on this for a moment. "I suppose it's like how I don't normally carry a sidearm, but if I'm going to be out late and alone, I take advantage of my ability to conceal a weapon."

Ashley grinned. "You pack when you go out? That's h- awesome!"

Samantha raised an eyebrow at the slip. She was sure Ashley was about to say "that's hot." And packing! I wonder if she ever packs anything in those trousers… She let it slide, but not without taking it as an assurance that she should flirt the next chance she got. Right, Traynor, because having your arms around her neck while she carries you home to your mum isn't enjoyable in any way. She sighed. It was enjoyable, but it wasn't flirting.

"Okay, that next one, with the petunias out front, is mine," Sam said after a moment. Ashley nodded, walking up the few steps to the front door, which slid open at Sam's ID. Inside, Rithu Traynor was just walking out of the master bedroom, her hair somewhat disheveled with sleep. She let out a gasp at Sam's bloody appearance – seriously, blood had dripped everywhere before her nose had finally stopped bleeding – and rushed to take Sam off Ashley's hands. The naval officer disappeared rather quickly, letting Sam's parents tend to her and call the doctor to make a house call. Sam wished Ashley could have stayed, but really, after the embarrassment of the night before, she could live with her mum not getting know Ashley just yet.

A/N: A few notes here. The first is Ashley's appearance. Bioware's whitewashing of Ashley Williams pissed me off. As did the feminization of her appearance. Don't get me wrong, she's hot in ME3. But as a butch woman myself, it pisses me off that the woman can't continue to appear the way they had her in ME1 and ME2. So I chose to go with that initial appearance. I'm also butch her up... a little bit. Because write what you know, right? She's in the military. Bioware made their women impossibly thin and bony, and they also made them all uniform (the men and the women) and that also just doesn't sit right with me. So I'm fleshing them out as I can.

The second is Sam's family. There isn't a whole hell of a lot of information on the wiki for her, so I invented some family members that most people don't. Hopefully I can continue to flesh them out as time goes on.

Third: Rithu is pronounced "Ree-tu."

Fourth: Sam's inner monolguing is definitely influenced by my love of fahRENheit2006's Sam in Queen's Gambit: Accepted. I hope she doesn't mind.

Fifth: I'm taking some liberty with Horizon. I may or may not remember later on that the planet's day is 37+ hours long. Let's just assume that they all take a siesta in the middle of the afternoon, even if I forget to ever mention it, yeah? Okay. Cool. Thanks.

I think that's it. I hope you're enjoying this. I'm having a terribly fun time writing it.