"Still impatient, Commander?"

.

"Pleasantly surprised. I didn't know you harbored such strong feelings for me."

"Oh god..." Miranda leaned back against the couch, burying her face in her hands. "How much longer?"

Oriana activated her omni-tool and gave a short laugh before she turned back to her sister. "We're about halfway through... Just three more hours..."

Miranda growled, causing Emily to slightly move between the two sisters. The baby had fallen asleep more than two hours ago, making Miranda wish she'd followed her child's example as soon as the two main elcor protagonists had started stomping through a park, wordily confessing their love to each other for the following couple of hours...

"You know... We could just turn it off and you tell me something else about Shepard," her sister offered with a devilish grin.

Miranda groaned. She'd always been quick in gauging a situation, and this time, the odds were definitely not in her favor... Spending three more hours watching what had been praised as a 'light-hearted, amusing elcor romantic comedy' or talking about her relationship and her feelings... Either way, she'd lose (either her mind or her pride)... She peeked at the screen once more and winced.

"Excited. I would like to introduce you to my family!"

"Doubting. I am not sure if they will like me..."

As if suddenly feeling insulted by the scenes playing on the screen in front of her, Emily stirred and started whimpering, sparing her mother Oriana's expectant silence. Miranda immediately grabbed the baby and shot up from the couch.

"It'll only take a minute," she assured her, smiling apologetically. Or twenty...

Oriana sighed and nodded, knowing from her sister's expression that she shouldn't even bother asking if she needed any help... They should really stop using that poor baby as an excuse before she's completely traumatized...

"I'll just quickly change her diapers," Miranda mused, heading for the stairs. "And maybe feed her. She looks hungry... Might even be time for a bath..."

Her sister rolled her eyes as she paused the video on the terminal. "I get it, it'll take a while. Just don't think you'll get out of this that easily..." Hearing Miranda's footsteps on the stairs, Oriana turned and started wandering around the room. If Miranda didn't want to entertain her, she'd find her own entertainment...


Once Emily was fed, bathed, freshly clothed and Miranda was out of ideas on how to postpone her sister's questions any longer, she walked back into the living room, a happy Emily in her arms.

Oriana raised her head from the couch she was sitting on, pointing at Niftu who was sitting in her lap, inspecting Emily's plush volus. "I just made the acquaintance of your second pet. Bit grumpy," she added.

Miranda smiled. "You should see him with..." She leaned forward, whispering, "Shepard."

Immediately, the pyjak hissed and turned his head from side to side in search for said person, stopping with a baffled look as he noticed the false alarm...

Accompanied by Oriana's raised eyebrows, Miranda sat back down on the couch and placed Emily back on her blanket between them. The baby immediately turned on her belly and clumsily crawled towards Oriana, snatching her plush volus out of Niftu's grasp with an indignant expression. Both sisters snickered as they watched the pyjak jump to the ground and gracefully walk towards the stairs without a backwards glance, obviously once more hurt in his pride and heading back to his hammock...

"That reminds me," Oriana turned on the couch and picked up a picture frame she'd placed next to her when Niftu had jumped into her lap. "While he was accompanying me on my way through your living room, we found this..."

She handed one of Shepard's framed certificates to Miranda, Emily's watchful eyes following its way as it was being passed over her head. "Her date of birth is on it," Oriana went on. "According to that, her birthday was just recently..."

"Her birthday..." Miranda nodded absent-mindeldy, looking at the certificate in her hands before her mind drifted off...

. . .

"Do you know what day it is?"

Shepard spun around, her eyes wide in horror. "Don't!" She raised a warning finger. "Say. It."

A smile spread across Miranda's face as she entered the bathroom, snaking her arms around Shepard's waist as the former commander turned back to the mirror, inspecting her image skeptically. She kissed Shepard's neck and then rested her chin on her shoulder, following Shepard's example of looking into the mirror in front of them. "You could subtract the two years you were practically dead," she offered, pressing her front against Shepard's back. "That would make you about six years younger than me..." God, I'm old...

Shepard snorted and shook her head. "Well, yes, but that wouldn't make a difference since your perfect genes don't seem to allow any wrinkles..." She sighed. "Mine do."

She turned in the embrace and swung her arms around Miranda, a pleading look on her face as she asked, "Do we have to celebrate my birthday? Liara's babysitting Emily, Cal and Niftu are banished to the guest room, we have the house to ourselves... Can't we just... I don't know... install a shooting range in our garden?" The roll of Miranda's eyes told Shepard that her secret dream would have to wait a little longer... She shrugged. "Besides, we never celebrate yours..."

Miranda freed herself from the embrace and patted Shepard on the shoulder as she circled her. "And we never will, because my birthday only reminds me of the fact that I didn't have an actual birth, nor do I have a mother or any childhood memories I wish to remember." She winked, showing that those things didn't really bother her anymore before she continued, "And it would be a shame if you missed out on your present..." Shoving Shepard towards the bathroom door, she added, "So go on, get the champagne. I'll meet you in the kitchen."

Grumbling, the former commander obliged and headed downstairs and into the kitchen.

She scanned the refrigerator's interior in search for the bottle and her eyes narrowed. It looked rather stuffed today... Strawberries, cream, chocolate... ugh, where's that damn champagne?

Finally spotting the bottle with the – in her opinion overprized and overestimated – drink behind the huge bowl filled with – as Shepard suspected, costily imported – strawberries (god knew when Miranda intended to eat those...), she grabbed it, followed by a few of the strawberries, and placed it all on the countertop next to the refrigerator before starting to rummage through the kitchen's cupboards in search of two glasses.

Maybe I should get some more new scars, they could obscure the wrinkles...

A loud sound from upstairs made her pause just as she placed the glasses next to the champagne. She raised her head, shouting, "Was that you?"

Miranda's snort could even be heard downstairs before the former operative answered, "Was that a serious assumption? Of course it wasn't me! Your bloody pets are tearing our guest room apart!"

"Our pets," Shepard corrected her to what seemed to be the hundredth time. She sighed. Why are they suddenly just my pets whenever anything happens?

She turned to the kitchen door. "I'll go and make sure they don't break anything-" A clattering sound interrupted her and she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Anything more..." she corrected.

"No! Don't come upstairs! I'll... take care of them!" came Miranda's panicked voice from upstairs.

Shepard's brows furrowed. "Are you sure everything's all right up there?"

"Except for those little pests... yes, everything's perfectly fine up here. I just..." A pause. "Lost my socks... might take a little while longer..."

"You don't even wear socks..."

"Stockings! You have to listen more closely, darling. I said 'stockings'." Miranda cleared her throat. "Did you get the canapés already?"

Shepard sighed as she turned back to the kitchen. She could hear a door being opened and only seconds later, Miranda's voice rang down from upstairs. "If I hear just one more sound from you two, I swear, that will be the last time you'll be able to even utter any sounds..." At that, the rumbling upstairs immediately stopped and, obviously pleased, Miranda closed and locked the door again.

Shepard could hear footsteps on the stairs by the time she placed the plate with canapés on the kitchen table. After throwing one of the strawberries into her mouth, she grabbed the champagne to fill the glasses. The sound of Miranda clearing her throat behind her made her turn and with a yelp, the bottle fell out of Shepard's hand and immediately broke into little pieces, covering the floor around the former commander.

Smiling, Miranda placed a hand on the kitchen's doorframe and leisurely leaned against it. Yes, she definitely still had it in her... "My, Commander Shepard, you dropped something. Would you like me to pick it up for you?"

A weak, raspy sound was her answer and she raised an expectant eyebrow. Shepard's wide eyes were fixed on the black, very revealing and almost non-existent garment being presented to her and Miranda's smile widened. She hadn't expected anything else, really... Testingly, she leaned forward but stopped as Shepard immediately started coughing, almost choking on the strawberry she'd forgotten to chew before swallowing hard at the sight in front of her, which was now blocking her airway.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Miranda leaned back against the doorframe. Those credits were definitely well spent, she decided, satisfied with the result of her appearance as she watched Shepard's face take on a slightly redder tone, oblivious to its actual origin. Her smile, however, suddenly vanished and a worried expression took over as the coughing didn't stop. "Shepard, are you all right?"

Nodding, Shepard raised a finger and closed her eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths while she fanned herself with her free hand, forcing the strawberry down her throat.

After a few more seconds, Shepard finally opened her eyes again, the predatory gleam returning immediately as they fell on Miranda once more and the strawberry incident was immediately forgotten...

"Phew..." She ran a hand through her hair, her skin tone slowly turning back to normal again. "I expected a new washing mashine or something like that..."

Miranda's eyebrow rose and she placed a hand on her hip, eliciting a sharp intake of air from Shepard. Clearly, the former commander had adapted almost too well to their domestic life... She needed to change that... immediately!

With one swift move of her hand, the shards were shoved aside by her biotics and Miranda slowly approached Shepard, all the champagne and canapés quickly forgotten...

. . .

"So...?"

Miranda blinked. Her head rose again and she turned back to her sister. No need to tell her everything... She shrugged. "You're right. I guess I must have forgotten about it..."

"You forgot your girlfriend's, wife's –whatever– birthday? What kind of girlfriend, wife –whatever– are you?"

A wide grin spread across Miranda's face as she shrugged once more. "A bad one, I guess..."