Tiptree - 2191
Sam rushed around the kitchen, trying to finish getting dressed and gather her belongings at the same time. She hopped precariously on one high heel while simultaneously trying to shove her foot into the other shoe and grab a travel mug out of the cupboard. Once she was fully shod, she hustled to the fridge and yanked the door open before tucking her blouse into her skirt. She snagged the carton of creamer from the interior, and swore when she realized it was almost empty.
"Hope!" she called. "If you want breakfast, you better hurry it up!"
The four-year-old stomped down the hallway and into the kitchen, clad in a purple dress, orange tights and one red sock. "I want pancakes," she demanded without preamble.
Sam looked her up and down in exasperation. "What are you wearing? What happened to the clothes I put out for you last night?"
Ignoring the question, Hope crawled onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "I want pancakes!" she repeated.
Sam sighed and decided to let it go. She had an early meeting this morning, and had neither the time nor desire to argue with a belligerent preschooler. Hope was only going to Jules' house for the day – it didn't matter if she was dressed like a circus clown.
"I don't have time to make pancakes. Do you want cereal or yogurt?"
Hope crossed her arms over her skinny chest and jutted her chin. "No!"
"Hope…"
"No!" she howled. "I…want…pancakes!"
After entertaining a brief mental image involving dropping pancakes on Hope's little screaming head - topped by a generous serving of syrup - Sam took a deep, calming breath.
"Reapers", she muttered to herself, turning to ram a pile of datapads into her bag, followed by her computer terminal. "Parenting is easier than fighting Reap-"
"Pancakes!" Hope screeched, reaching another octave and causing her mother to wince.
"On the other hand," Sam reconsidered, rubbing her temple, "no one blinked an eye when I whipped out a pistol and shot the Reapers…"
The front door buzzed, interrupting her dark musings, followed by the tinny audio of Jules' voice. "Anybody home?"
"Auntie Jules!" Hope cried in excitement, going from sulky to gleeful in the blink of an eye, in the infuriating way that only small children could, while hopping down from her perch and streaking toward the entryway. Wearily, Sam slapped the button to unlock the door, and she heard her sister-in-law greet Hope in the foyer. Jules must have had Lucy with her because Sam heard the kids chattering away as her unwitting rescuer appeared in the kitchen doorway.
"Good morn-whoa!" Jules said, raising a brow at Sam's dour expression. "Everything okay?"
"Peachy. I'm running late. I can't find my purse. And Hope decided that the only food she will eat is pancakes and she wants them right-fucking-now."
Jules raised a fist to cover her mouth, obviously hiding a grin. "Mmm. I get that way about pancakes, too." At Sam's resulting glower, she held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Sorry, sorry! Bad timing. When you didn't show up by a quarter after, I kind of suspected this sort of thing. Just get your stuff and go. I'll take care of the girls - and the pancakes. I may even selflessly test one to make sure it's okay before feeding it to the children."
Sam filled her mug and jammed on the lid. "Jeff makes her banana and chocolate chip pancakes. I'm sure we have the ingredients around here. Somewhere."
"Don't worry. I got it. You just go before any blood is shed."
Stress easing, Sam found a smile. "You may have saved a life today. Thank you." She hoisted her bag onto one shoulder and spotted her purse sitting on the table by the front door. "I'll try to be home at a reasonable hour."
"It's fine. If you run late, we'll feed her."
Sam sidled around the girls, who had already dumped a pile of blocks onto the foyer floor and were engrossed in a complex construction project. She scooped up her purse and said, ""Bye, honey. Be good for Auntie Jules today."
"Okay, 'bye," her daughter said, without so much as a glance in her direction.
Sure, don't mind me...I'm just the one who feeds you, and clothes you, and puts up with your...
"Wait!" Jules called, hustling up behind her with the travel mug in her hand. "Don't forget your coffee!"
Sam gritted her teeth, annoyed at her forgetfulness. "What would I do without you?"
"I'll go with 'Homicide in the workplace?'" Jules offered, straight-faced, as Sam accepted the offered mug.
"It's annoying how well you know me."
Despite her good intentions, it was well past dinner by the time Sam finally arrived home. She'd been five minutes late for the meeting that morning with the various diplomats, and her tardiness had not escaped anyone's notice. These quarterly summits were demanded by the terms of a treaty that had been signed after the war, but they were anything but peaceful. Due to Shepard's influence in determining the current trajectory of each of the races, she'd been elected to play the part of both mediator and scapegoat. Neither were roles she relished.
Sam worked from home most days, but for important events - like today's meeting - she traveled to the tiny Alliance outpost on Tiptree. Chatting via hologram with the leaders of several of the galaxy's primary races with a tantrum-prone toddler lurking in the background was career suicide, even for Admiral Shepard. Even less frequently, she had occasion to journey off-planet for work - to Earth, most often. The truth was, she usually welcomed the opportunity to escape for a few days. But those instances were few, and far between.
Sam had called Jules to tell her that she was going to be late, and her sister-in-law had taken it with her usual equanimity and cheerfulness. It did little to assuage her guilt.
When Sam arrived, she was surprised to find the house bustling with activity. The girls were sprawled on the couch in the living room, watching an animated movie, with their heads propped on opposing ends of the sofa, and two sets of scrawny legs wriggling under a blanket like a nest of restless serpents.
"I'm home," Sam announced.
"Hi," Hope replied, dismissively, never tearing her eyes from the screen. Lucy glanced up and smiled shyly, then returned her attention to the vid without a word.
"In here," Jules called from the kitchen. Sam allowed her shoulders to slump, the straps of her bags sliding down her arms as her belongings clattered to the floor, and kicked off her shoes. She padded into the other room to find Jules doing the dishes with a glass of red wine on the counter next to her. There was another half-full glass on the island, awaiting Sam's arrival. With a grateful sigh, she sank onto one of the stools and took a sip.
"You are the best wife ever."
Jules laughed. "Why, thank you. I'm glad someone notices."
"If Brian doesn't appreciate you, I'll marry you in an instant."
"Only if we can leave the kids with the men."
"Sounds good to me." Sam took another long sip, and felt some of the tension from the day begin to drain away. "I didn't expect you to be here. I figured you would have taken the kids back to your house."
"Nah, they were happy playing here for most of the day. I decided to just make them dinner and let Brian take the boys out for pizza. They got some male bonding time, and I got some peace and quiet - well, relatively speaking."
"You've been stuck here all day? Oh, Jules, I'm so sorry."
"It was fine. Really."
"I'm sure you had other things you wanted to do."
She shrugged, drying her hands on a towel as she leaned against the counter across from Sam. "The laundry and errands will still be there tomorrow. Don't worry about it." Jules picked up her glass, and they were quiet for a few moments, enjoying their wine. "Is everything okay?" Jules eventually inquired, tentatively. "You seemed kinda...frazzled this morning."
Sam raked a hand through her hair, a nervous habit. "I'm a little stressed out. Work, you know?"
"Sure." Jules took another casual sip from her glass. "When is Jeff getting home?"
"Day after tomorrow."
"Mmm. And things with you guys are good?"
Sam gave her sister-in-law a quizzical look. "Uh, yeah. I guess. Why?"
Jules blew out a sigh. "I don't know. It's probably none of my business, but Jeff is gone so much, and I know it's got to be hard on you. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind helping out," she added, hurriedly, "I just worry about you. All of you."
Sam hesitated, wondering how much to share. She considered Jules one of her best friends, but Sam was by nature a private person, and Jules was Jeff's sister. She always felt slightly uncomfortable sharing details about their personal life.
"It's tough sometimes," Sam admitted. "But it's only temporary. Ralph Owens is going to be retiring in another year or so, and they've already told Jeff that they want him to take over the pilot training program."
"But a year is a long time when you have a young child at home," Jules observed.
"Yeah," Sam agreed, with a rueful grin. "Most days, when I can work from home, it's not so bad. But days like today, well..."
"Have you talked about it with Jeff?"
Sam stared down at her glass as she twirled it on the counter, uncomfortably. "Not really."
"Why not?"
"We knew the position would require a lot of travel, and we both agreed he should still take it. It's not like he accepted the job without discussing it with me."
"And now that it's been a few months and you see what it's really like?" Jules prodded. When Sam just shrugged, her sister-in-law continued, "Listen, I appreciate how supportive you are of Jeff, because he's my brother and I want to see him succeed, too. But you both have a lot of responsibilities at work, and a toddler at home...the answer doesn't have to be that either of you give up your careers. I don't mind helping out when I can, but maybe you could use someone more full-time? Or part-time day care? There're lots of options, but you have to be willing to talk about it."
Taking another sip of wine, Sam considered Jules' advice. When Jeff was gone, laundry accumulated, groceries vanished, and there never seemed to be enough hours in the day to do everything. But for someone who used to command a ship full of marines, it was kind of embarrassing to admit that she couldn't manage a house and a kid on her own.
She'd wanted a family for so long; she'd never stopped to consider that she might be a complete and utter failure at it.
Hesitantly, Sam asked Jules the question that had been on her mind for a while. "Do you ever feel like the kids love Brian more than you?"
Her sister-in-law gave a surprised chortle and began gasping as she choked on her wine. Patting herself on the chest, Jules replied, "Of course! Why wouldn't they? He's gone all day, and when he gets home, he's Mr. Fun Time dad, playing video games and suggesting we order pizza for dinner. I'm the one who enforces homework, and bedtime, and eating vegetables, and says 'No' about a thousand times a day. If I were to die tomorrow, my epitaph would read 'Meanest Mother in the Universe."'
Sam grinned in spite of herself, but it quickly fell away. "Sometimes I feel like if I died tomorrow, Hope wouldn't even notice I was gone."
"Oh, honey," Jules consoled, reaching out to cover Sam's hand with her own. "Listen, being a mother is a completely thankless job, and anyone who ever told you otherwise is a liar. Your kids will break your heart and push you away, but who's the first one they want when they're sick, or scared, or sad? Believe me, Hope loves you, and she's lucky to have you for a mom. And for the record, my kids think you're the coolest aunt ever."
This time, Sam's laugh was heartfelt. "Well, I appreciate that."
Jules refilled their glasses and set the bottle aside. "Listen, when Jeff gets home, why don't I take Hope overnight so that you guys can have some time alone?"
"I can't ask you to do that," Sam protested. "You had her all day today."
"You didn't ask. I offered. Order takeout from Marcello's, or Batiste; open a bottle of wine; and don't talk about children for the entire evening."
Sam rolled her eyes. "Easier said than done."
"Try to remember back to the time before you had Hope, when you actually liked each other. Shouldn't be too tough for the two of you," Jules said with a wink. "Since you're one of those weird couples who actually do still like each other."
"Most of the time," Sam admitted with a grin.
"Well, there you go," Jules announced, as if that decided everything. "And if things don't work out with Jeff, then we can always put our running away together plan into motion."
"Deal," Sam agreed, as they clinked their glasses together.
Sam was reviewing the transcript of the previous day's summit meeting when the incoming message light began blinking on her terminal. She stabbed impatiently at the button and James' visage popped up on her screen.
"Something important?" she inquired, flatly, already shifting her eyes back to the datapad in hand.
"Well, if it isn't Admiral Rainbows and Sunshine," James drawled, voice laced with sugar. "What color was the bug that crawled up your ass this afternoon?"
"It's not afternoon here, James. It's the ass crack of dawn. And I'm trying to edit the record from yesterday's powwow to remove all references to the fact that my ass and I were not there on time, so that my ass and I do not get chewed out when I pass it up the chain of command."
"Wow, Lola...that's possibly the most times anyone has ever used the word 'ass' in a sentence. Well, the boss is already asking to be debriefed on the highlights. Send it to me and I'll finish cleaning it up."
Sam slouched back in her chair, blowing out a relieved sigh. "Thanks. You've saved my ass once again."
"Yeah, well, lucky for you, you have an ass worth saving." Loud screeching erupted from the bedroom down the hall, followed by a crash. "Holy crap, Lola, I think you're under attack."
Sam grimaced. "It's just the kids. I'm watching Lucy today to repay Jules for yesterday."
"How's Hope doing, anyway?"
"She's a terror."
"My little Peanut? You must be mistaken."
"Ha! You only think that because she would never dare to act up in front of her beloved Uncle James. She told me the other day that she's going to marry you, by the way."
"Aww. I'm flattered."
"Yeah, well, don't let it go to your head. First, she told me she was going to marry Jeff. When I pointed out that I was already married to him, she was pretty put out. That's when she decided you would work as a backup option."
"Hmph. I guess I'll never rate higher than second place with the Shepard women, huh?"
"I never said you were my second choice, Vega."
"Okay, now, that's just hurtful, Lola."
Sam grinned. "You know I love you, James."
"Yeah, yeah. Well, if she's anything like her mama, I could do a lot worse."
"Anytime you want to borrow her, just say the word. You'll change your mind real fast."
James squinted at the monitor. "Geez, Lola, if I didn't know better, I'd say that your usual cheerful disposition was AWOL today." Realization brightened his countenance as he said, "Oh, lemme guess. Hubby's gone again and you're not gettin' any?"
"No! I mean...yes, but..."
"But?" he prompted.
Her smile slipped away as she asked, pensively, "Do you like this job?"
James didn't even blink at the change in topic. "Being your personal lackey? It's everything I ever dreamed it would be."
"I'm serious, James. We're basically glorified intergalactic babysitters, keeping an eye on all the unruly children so they don't get out of hand."
"Someone's gotta do it," James pointed out.
"Maybe," Sam conceded. "But why does it have to be us?"
"Look, you may not like being a diplomat, but there's no denying you're good at it. You were the one who brought the galaxy together, for better or worse. Think of it like that old adage - once you save someone's life, they're your responsibility forever. You saved a lot of lives, Lola."
"If you're suggesting that I un-save them," Sam grumbled, "I'm listening."
"Besides," James continued, ignoring her. "We're too old to be out there shooting at stuff anymore. What the hell else are two broken-down soldiers gonna do with themselves?" When Sam merely continued sulking, James probed, "Is this really about the job?"
"I don't know," Sam admitted. "I just know that I never pictured myself sitting behind a desk all day..."
"Or being stuck on a small planet at the ass end of the galaxy, where nothing ever happens?" James finished for her. Sam just shrugged. "Look, Lola, our lives rarely turn out the way we expect. That's not necessarily a bad thing. But if you're truly unhappy, then you need to figure out what you want and make some changes."
"I miss the camaraderie of the crew. I miss the adrenaline of a firefight. Aerobics class is a poor approximation."
James chuckled. "Yeah, I get that." He thought for a minute, then said, "Hey, what about N-School?"
Sam frowned. "What about it?"
"Why don't you look into being an instructor? As an N7, you're qualified. Plus, the Alliance is never gonna say no to you."
"I dunno, James. That's pretty intense stuff."
"Well, maybe not N1, but some of the specialized training. They only offer it every couple of months, so it would be a good diversion for you. You're one of the best battlefield tacticians I've ever seen, and even Scars admired your skills with a sniper rifle."
"Yeah," Sam said softly, bracing herself against the stabbing pain that the mention of Garrus' name always elicited. All these years later, and there were still times that she thought to seek counsel or comfort in his presence before remembering, with a jolting ache, that he was gone. His absence was an open wound that would never fully heal.
"Think about it," James advised, pulling her thoughts back to the present. "I think it would be good for you."
"I will. Thanks."
"Anytime, Lola. Now I'm going to go redact all mention of your tardiness from this transcript in order to maintain Admiral Shepard's unblemished reputation."
Sam laughed. "Make me look good, James."
"I always do, Boss. I always do."