A/N: Still not recovered, and nowhere near sleepy enough to go to bed yet….so I guess I'll do some more therapy. Arin, this one's for you too, and I hope it brings some smiles.–Outreach117

Arcturus Station, Medical Wing, March 6th 2176

"Oh God, that was amazing," Peter McDade huffed as he collapsed against the examination table in the deserted and unused hospital wing of Arcturus Station. Next to him, also recovering from post climax euphoria curled the naked shape of Caroline Chakwas. While in her early 40's, a few wrinkles and gray starting to appear at her temples, she was still the spitting image of beauty.

"You weren't too bad yourself Peter," she calmly replied nuzzling up to him.

Peter wrapped a well-muscled arm around his lover and leaned in close to kiss her on the forehead and whispered softly. "I feel like the luckiest man in the galaxy. Here we are, almost a year old and still going strong, having white hot sex like a couple of mischievous teens hoping they don't get busted by their parents. Did I ever tell you how much of a little minx you are?"

Caroline sighed contently against him, "on many occasions, yes dear."

"And also how much I love you?"

"once or twice."

"And that I never thought this would happen when I walked up to you in that bar a year ago?"

"You have mentioned it now and again, yes." Caroline smiled and kissed him again.

"Happy anniversary, although I really don't think I have any present that could quite match this," Peter motioned at the sterile treatment room the pair had commandeered. "This is totally wrong, and I am totally ok with that," he said, smiling again as he got up and pulled his briefs into place.

"Oh, done and finished with me already? Mr. McDade, as your Doctor I order your butt back to bed," Caroline sat up and watched Peter pull his trousers on.

Leaning in for a kiss, he placed a finger on her lips, "In a moment ma'am. I have something I need to tell you."

"If it's about your departure on the SSV Baltimore for Elysium, don't bother." Caroline deadpanned, the mood effectively killed.

"How…how did…." Peter found himself stuttering.

"Elizabeth told me. I understand you and her are even going to be on the same ground team together," Caroline neatly folded her hands on her stomach as she stared at Peter expectantly.

"She did? I, um….well I was going to tell you," Peter appeared almost sheepish as he pulled his N7 shirt on.

Caroline propped herself up on one elbow. "Really?"

"Really. But, when I felt it was appropriate because there is something I wanted to ask you." Peter now looked almost nervous to Caroline, and N7 marines didn't just get anxious for no reason.

"Oh, and what might that be?"

Peter reached into his cargo pants pocket and produced a small black velvet box, a smile forming on his face as he went to one knee in front of Caroline. Slowly opening the box, a platinum ring sat, a very large diamond crested on top.

Oh God, is it…..is he going to?

"Caroline Chakwas. From the day I met you, I have always been enamored by your grace, your beauty, your intelligence, your steady hands and unwavering resolve. My darling, will you marry me?"

Caroline felt her heart accelerating faster than a starship in FTL flight, her eyes going between the proffered ring and the handsome man who held it, possibilities racing through her mind. Is he the right one? Is he the one for me? I'm over 40 years old, a late bloomer by all standards. Am I doing this just because I'm desperate, or is he really 'The One'? What about children? I always wanted children. Is it too late?

Peter seemed to sense her hesitation, his hands shaking slightly as his nerves started to take over, the ominous silence as thick as oil. He sucked in a deep breath as Caroline opened her mouth to speak, her jaw opened and closed as if talking but no words came out.

"Honey, say something," Peter pleaded.

His answer came shortly after as Caroline bolted from the bed and dove into his arms, her mouth showering him with kisses. Between sobs of joy, he could have sworn he heard her say, "Oh, God, yes. I need you."

A real shame it wasn't destined to last.

Present

"Oh God, I needed that." Caroline spoke rather nonchalantly as she pulled her SR-2 uniform back into place. Looking sideways she could see Rupert doing the same with his Cerberus jumpsuit, a smile across his face.

"Well Doc, that was….different," as he leaned in and kissed her on the lips.

"Yes, well near death experiences combined with alcohol have a way of stripping away any inhibitions."

Rupert looked hurt at her comment, and it showed on his face. "Oh, I'm sorry Rupert….it's just, well….I don't usually let anyone get that close to me."

Rupert put an ample arm around her waist and kissed her neck gently. "Why? What happened?"

Caroline just formed a rather blank expression as she stared at the opposite wall, a torrent of emotions long thought dead came back, and her mouth uttered two words that anyone in the Alliance knew. "The Blitz."

Elysium City, Skyllian Verge, April 13th, 2176

"Dammit Shepard, get your ass back up here!" McDade shouted at the junior N6 marine, although "Junior" was probably not the right term. Any marine of the N-Series SpecWar program was a highly trained and competent combatant. The only real difference was that N7 could only be achieved through being an N6, and having seen extended combat. Given the events of late, however, he had no doubt that the young lieutenant would have earned the rank several times over before the week was out.

"Aye, Major!" Came Shepard's reply as he used copious amounts of gunfire to drop another batarian slaver while running from cover to cover amongst the blasted cityscape.

"Shepard, we are being overrun. There are civilian refugees in those buildings over there," the Major motioned towards a series of prefabricated shacks about half a kilometer across the ravaged countryside. "You are to take what's left of Dagger and Sabre squads, secure and hold those buildings until evac arrives. I will hold the batarians off here."

Shepard eyed the Major, a knowing look on his face. "Sir, with respect you won't survive another assault," and motioned towards two bleeding holes in the front chestplate of Peter's armor. "You're wounded, running low on thermal clips, and not to mention outnumbered about 20 to one!"

Peter looked down at the young N6 Alliance marine, his face somber. "Boy, I've been killing slaver and pirate scum for more years than you've existed. I might be dinged up a bit bu-"

"A ruptured spleen, punctured lung, three broken ribs and losing almost a quart of blood Mr. McDade. That's more than being just 'dinged up a bit'." Elizabeth Moreau low crawled up next to the Major, her omni-tool humming a bright yellow as she scanned his wounds. "If I don't plug these wounds with medi-gel soon, you're going to bleed out."

Peter inwardly groaned. He knew full well Elizabeth Moreau was just as stubborn as Caroline, and if he didn't give in to her demands for treatment, she would have no compunctions against ordering him to triage. "All right doc, you win," Peter commented, clearly deflated. "Shepard, you're still moving your ass out." The major eyed the young lieutenant as Elizabeth kneeled in front of him to start tending his wounds.

"But, Sir we-"

"Don't you 'But, Sir' me, boy. Move your ass out, that's an order marine!" Peter bellowed at Shepard, wincing as the doctor applied the medi-gel.

"Keep still, Peter! I can't seal the wounds if you'r-" SPLAT! Elizabeth never finished her sentence as her brains were scattered all over Peter's hardsuit from the rapidly entering and exiting sniper round of a batarian pirate.

"Fuck! Shepard, get the hell out of here now! Protect those civilians!" Peter pulled his Mattock heavy rifle and opened fire at the perch of rubble approximately a hundred yards away where the shot rang from.

"Negative, Sir. You'll have to court-martial me. I'm not leaving you here to die," Shepard flatly replied, taking cover and drawing his own Mattock.

A feral growl escaped the senior N7 marine's lips as he drew his Carnifex hand cannon and leveled the barrel at Shepard's face. "Get. Moving. Now. Protect those people or I'll put you down right here. Do your fucking duty, Lieutenant." Grabbing his tags and yanking Elizabeth's free from her bloodied neck, he tossed them to Shepard who caught them one-handed. "Tell Caroline Chakwas that I'm sorry that I won't be home for dinner." He then turned away from Shepard and kept firing at the advancing pirate mercs.

Shepard, wisely deciding not to call the senior marine's bluff, wormed his way out of the dug in foxhole, and motioning toward the remaining N-series marines, took off at a shuffle pace towards the civilian structures. Peter watched him and the remaining marines go, a hard look on his face as he turned back towards a squad of Blue Suns and Eclipse mercs, a smile on his face. "My turn. Come and take me if you dare, you piss-ant sons of bitches…."

Hours later, Alliance reinforcement squads recovered the badly mutilated body of Major Peter McDade, having been shot multiple times, stabbed and then his body dismembered by a vorcha pack. Around the remains lay scattered over 80 enemy casualties, all dead by multiple shots to the chest and head from a badly bloodied Mattock rifle. Overlooking the grisly scene, a young Lieutenant Shepard with a recently earned wound along his hairline, stood at attention and gave a silent salute to his old CO. "Don't let the sons of bitches get you down, Sir."

The tags felt heavier and heavier in his left hand.

Several days later, Arcturus Station, Medical Office of Caroline Chakwas

I am cursed. The universe hates me. I will never, ever love again. Caroline's thoughts echoed in her mind. Her eyes were red, raw and having gushed out more tears than Niagara Falls did on a typical day. A half-drunk bottle of liquor stood alone on her desk, her datapads and files having been scattered long ago around the room in fits of depression and grief. Next to the bottle sat two sets of Alliance dog tags. One belonged to her fiancée, the other to her childhood friend. What about Jeffrey, he's still just a young man. What will he do? Jeff already had been told by FTL comms, long before Lieutenant Shepard had arrived in her office in full Alliance dress uniform, of his mother's death. From all accounts he was taking the loss extremely hard, although Shepard to his credit stayed with the two of them for over three hours, never giving in to Jeff's anger and remorse, and his eyes betrayed only the pain and sorrow that he felt from having lost his CO that was Caroline's fiancée.

Now, Caroline sat alone in her office, liquor running freely through her system, and the Carnifex handgun that had belonged to Peter now rested ominously close to the bottle, thermal clip and ammunition block locked and loaded. It would be so easy, Caroline mused. Make the pain go away. What is the bloody point now?

A knock at the door took her attention from the bottle and handgun which she quickly stowed in her desk drawer. Who could be here at this time, it's 0300!

"Enter!" She shouted, an edge creeping into her voice, ready to tear the lungs out of whoever dared interrupt her self-induced torture session. Instead of seeing some green Alliance marine or medical staffer, the young face of Jeffrey Moreau limped through the now open door.

"Auntie Caroline…" He choked out.

"Oh, Jeffrey. I'm sorry…it's just-" she stopped as the young man raised his hand, asking for silence.

"Auntie Caroline….do…..do you think I could call you 'Mom'?" Jeff choked out, hobbling closer to her, fresh tears welling under his eyes.

Caroline, for the countless time that day, felt fresh tears gush out from what seemed to be a bottomless well. Wordlessly, she opened her arms and Jeff Moreau dived into them, crying uncontrollably. Caroline rocked the young man back and forth, not even bothering to try and stop the sobs that were by now an unstoppable force….and yet, despite the grief, she couldn't help but smile slightly, as a new purpose dawned on her amiss the darkness that she felt. Yes, this one is mine. Jeff….he is my son.

It was the start of a wonderful new relationship.