Shepard was scheduled to depart at 0700 hours. He let her sleep while he made breakfast in his newly rebuilt kitchen, her favorites from his plethora of armature chef experiments. In her own way she had tried to assure him she would return. Little things, like leaving her hollo images of the two of them together. Her civilian clothes were tucked neatly away in her own dewars of his dresser. The one necklace he'd ever bought her lay as if purposefully placed on the corner of the same dresser. Silent promises. He didn't mention them. He didn't express his fears, but somehow she knew. He pushed his worries away as he did the same with the eggs and bacon off the skillet to the plate. A little honey mustard sauce, asari cheese and a sprinkle of saffron garnished with a vibrant blue flower in partial bloom from Thessia. He brought the plates out to the balcony where he'd placed a small bistro table and two chairs. Setting the plates down, careful not to knock over the glasses of orange juice, he returned to the bed side to wake her. It was still very early in the morning, but 0700 would come all too soon. To his surprise, she was already awake, but had yet to leave the bed. He lay beside her, propping himself up on one elbow. Brushing away the stray strands of gold, he looked lovingly down at her fresh face and dark, sleepy eyes. She seemed to be glowing with a inner happiness and it warmed him and lifted his spirits to know that he was part of that.

"You made breakfast?" She asked with a smile.

"You're favorite." He replied, grinning back.

"You're fantastic." She praised him. "First you make a wonderful dinner, followed by your famous pie..."

"I don't know if it's famous!" David scoffed.

"And the sex blew me away."

A flirty smile lit up her face. David averted his eyes, fighting the blush that wanted to color his cheeks. Her naked form was sensually outline by the folds of the sheets. If there was time he might have made love to her, but as it was there wasn't.

"David,"

Hearing her speak his name, his eyes returned to her face.

"Thank you."

"For what?" He asked, confused.

"For being you. For loving me."

"I think I should be the one thanking you if there is gratitude to be given." He told her. She sat up, keeping her modesty with the sheets.

"I'm serious." She replied, looking him in the eye.

"So am I."

He got up and left to let her shower. He wanted to touch her face, to kiss her, but he resisted. He didn't want to risk it leading to something else. He might not be able to let go if he did.

The food was still warm when she emerged a few minutes latter, clean and dressed in her Alliance uniform similar to his own. The Alliance hadn't officially made her Captain yet, but he had it on good authority that she would be promoted soon. He thought of how beautiful she was the way the navy blue brought out the darkness of her eyes and lightness of her hair. The added star could not improve her loveliness beyond what it already was. He would miss her coral lips and her softly spoken words, as he always did. But she would come back. She always did. She was a tough girl. He nervously fingered the box in his pocket. Maybe he would wait until she came back. Right before a mission may not be the best time to ask. Besides that, she looked a little distracted. Probably thinking about her assignment.

The 'I love you's had been said. The 'come back to me's and the 'I'll miss you's, all the mush that came with the strength of love that was down played and dismissed. He had her mission agenda in hand. All the scheduled stops and most of the unofficial ones as well. The Normandy was a good ship. Joker was a good pilot. He trusted that. She'd been gone a few days when the news came. KIA/MIA, Commander Sonya Shepard lost to space after a hostile attack by an unknown assailant. It was hard to keep it together until the end of the day. When he opened the door to his apartment he was still in too much shock for it to sink in all the way. His eyes caught on everything she'd left behind. The holos on the book shelf. Her necklace on the dresser. The silent promises she would never keep. He opened the little black velvet box next to the necklace and stared blankly at the treasure within. The one karat blue diamond was a a cushion cut oval set on four prong titanium band. Deceptively simple. Now it was a meaningless expense that he had kept to long to return. He opened the top dewar on her side to place the box inside. To his surprise, there was a letter addressed to him sitting on top of the shirts crisply folded inside. It wasn't sealed. It seemed she too had something to say that she'd held off on.

Placing the box in it's place, David picked up the data pad. A single tear welled up in is eye as he began to read the words of a woman whose voice he would never hear again. Loss began to settle over the shock. Grief would soon follow. He took a seat on the edge of the bed he had shared with her. The letter read as such;

David,

It's taken me nearly a week to articulate the words to tell you everything that's within me. I love you more than anything. I don't care if we ever have a wedding or sport new jewelry. I don't need a data file to know I want to be with you. But there's something important I feel I should tell you. Sit down for this. Are you sitting? Good. You're going to be a father! Now, I know the timing isn't ideal. Sometimes, despite modern contraceptives, these things happen. I've been so nervous to tell you. If this changes things for us, I understand. You can be as involved as you want to be. I want you to know that I don't expect anything from you. I just thought you should know. I will always love you, no matter what you decide to do.

Sonya

The blow hit hard. He felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest by the jaws of a varren and shredded. It was bad enough to loose Sonya, but to gain and loose a child in one paragraph was more than he could take. Her uncertainty that he would stay and be there for her and their child... he didn't know what to think. She had to know he wouldn't back down from the honor or the challenge. The tears came at fist as silent droplets down his cheeks, but as the pain became more realized the soft sobs became agonized cries of pain and fits of rage. Why did this happen? Why her? Why now, on top of everything else? The questions poured from him to the empty air, but he realized the 'why' didn't matter. She was gone. Their baby was gone before he even knew of him.

He was alone again and all of humanity was looking to him as one of the Candidates for Councillor. A position he would likely be elected for because she had nominated him and because she died such a tragic death. He hardly cared to breath, much less lead his species into the future.

Leaving everything of hers as she had left, it he poured himself a glass of elasa from his collection in the kitchen. He would go through many bottles over the next few weeks, collecting the empty glass vessels on the balcony where he drank them at the bistro table. Sometimes he would go to the 'Den'. At first he kept the data pad and velvet box near by. Unable to destroy the data pad or part with the ring, he tucked them away in her dewar. When he was elected, he included a note of respect for her memory, but nothing more. As far as the galaxy knew, she was a friend at best His grief for her had to remain on that level in the eye of the public.

After the first year, he gradually drank less, but he could not bring himself to put the holo's away. He never activated them any more. It only pushed him to drink when he did. He kept his personal life very well separated from work and his relationship with her remained a private past. When the second year rolled by the holo's were tucked safely away, her scent long gone from his bed, and even the necklace that he'd left out just where she'd left it, had been carefully boxed and placed next to the ring in her dewar. He continued to avoid children, however, no matter the species. It was unlikely he would ever come to terms with that loss or the bitterness that tainted the love that had once been pure in his heart. Then the rumors came. After two years one would think such things to be passed their expected prime. Old wounds were reopened and the scars required the antiseptic qualities of alcohol.