"These are disgusting," Jacob observed, watching the viscous cheese slid sullenly from an ever-growing-limp corn chip.

"I know, right?" Shepard noted before breaking her chip in half, making a chip-and-cheese sandwich out of it, then shoving the whole thing in her mouth. The quasi-crunchiness and periodic sogginess distracted her from the way the 'cheese' coated the inside of her mouth. At least, the mouth-feel distracted her until Jacob's next comment.

"It's not even real cheese,"

"I know, right? And I don't know where they got those jalapenos—good on them, wartime shortages and everything—but when in doubt…" Shepard flicked a flabby green ring onto a napkin. "…leave them out."

Jacob grinned as he finished the last chip. "Another boat?"

"Sure, why not? Nostalgia, right?" She had always hated cheap cheese-and-jalapeno nachos. Therefore, she couldn't explain why she enjoyed the nostalgia of the dish, if not the dish itself. She remembered splitting orders of similar garbage with siblings or friends on the occasional Friday out, only then it hadn't been seemly to complain.

In this case, complaining seemed to be part of the experience, and Jacob started it.

Laughing, Jacob got to his feet and headed over to the snack counter.

They were still at the arcade, Jacob's youthful charges engrossed in the plethora of games. The atmosphere was cheerful, bright and enthusiastic. The war did seem further away than it should on the Citadel, although the population did seem to have woken up to it.

Like Joker said: …a happy medium. More war prep, fewer gardening tips.

Jacob slid back into his seat and set the fresh boat of chips and cheese (this time without the fake jalapenos) between them. "Hey, Shepard?"

"Yeah?" Shepard glanced over at him, noting the change in his tone for bantering to hesitantly serious. "What's up?"

"…can I ask you a favor?"

"You need someone whacked?" she deadpanned before eating another cheesy chip. She was going to regret this arcade fare tomorrow. One way or another. Dr. Chakwas would be thrilled that she was willing to take the regrets for the sake of the moment this afternoon.

Jacob let out a bark of laughter. "If you weren't grinning like that," he indicated her smile with a finger. "I'd be a little worried you were serious."

"Okay. So, what's up?"

"Well. The twins have been born."

"And they're cuties." Shepard knew: she now had a holo of the twins while awake, destined for a special datapad in her office.

"So I got this for Brynn." Jacob produced a black velvet box and opened it. A ring sparkled in its interior. "I'm pretty sure she knows it's coming, but…well. I guess I have two favors."

"Ask," Shepard answered with a twitch of her shoulders, aware of the weight of the victory ring on her dog tags, strangely light, but strangely encouraging.

"Firstly…I want to give her a decent proposal. I know, I should have done it sooner, but…somewhere nice. You know? Like…under the cherry blossoms in the Council Chambers."

Shepard considered. "…I'll see what I can do. There's gotta be someone who owes me a favor, somewhere."

Jacob nodded. "And secondly…I'd like you to officiate the wedding. On the Normandy. Because you can."

Shepard opened her mouth, then blinked, the words catching up with her. Yes, it was completely true that as the commanding officer on an Alliance vessel, she was legally empowered to do more than just hold judicial proceedings. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious," Jacob answered, scooping up a massive amount of cheese on a chip and cramming the whole thing into his mouth. From his grimace, it was too much of a questionable thing.

"I never really thought about it but now that I do? I would love to officiate someone's wedding," Shepard said, grinning.

"Yeah?" Jacob grinned back.

"Yeah! I'd love to marry you and Brynn." Shepard said, her voice almost shaking with pleasure at the idea. "As soon as I get you an opportunity to propose." Out of habit, she made to get up, but Jacob shot out a hand, grabbed her arm, and refused to let her rise.

"No rush. And there's no way I'm finishing these crappy nachos on my own. So start doing your share," Jacob said lightly.

Shepard chuckled, settling back in her seat, obediently eating several cheesy chips before speaking again. "If I'm to do this, we'll need to do it here. The Normandy's being given a checkup." She could chuck the techs out for a few hours one day, she felt sure. And even if she couldn't, she would. She somehow doubted anyone but the techs would complain.

It was a wedding for crying out loud. A wedding for one of her crewmen. Who would want to argue with her too much over that?

Now, getting a few hours of the Council Chambers…yes, she imagined there would be arguments there. But she felt sure Burns, at least, would not put up too much of a protest, since it wasn't as if she asked favors like this very often. And Burns tended to be very supportive of her crew and their needs.

"Hey, come back out of orbit," Jacob chuckled.

"Sorry. Working the logistics, you know," Shepard grinned. "I'm happy for you, Jacob. And she hasn't even said 'yes' yet."

"It's good to see," Jacob answered, knocking Shepard's elbow with his own. "I'm glad you're smiling."

Shepard suspected the euphoria wouldn't be long-lived, but she determined to enjoy it while she could. "Brynn will need to bring the twins with her, won't she?"

"Probably."

"Do you need babysitters?"

"Probably."

Shepard was silent for a moment. "I've got some lead time. I'll see what I can wrangle." The idea of babysitting intimidated her for a reason she couldn't quite isolate. After all, she'd had very young siblings at one time, and helped care for them. Still, she felt a dark, cold squirm of uncertainty as the topic came up.

"You are the best," Jacob said fervently.