A/N Sorry for the delay, been a bit busy recently. Just a little Shep Miri scene here, fleshing out the time gap between this and the planned next chapter really.

28th October 2187 – Crucible pulse + 13 months

Miranda adjusted the cushion behind her back, making herself more comfortable for the umpteenth time in the past hour. She shifted her legs slightly, stretching out all the way to her toes down the sofa. She was sat in the middle of the corner sofa, her body positioned to face the large vid-screen above the fire. The other part of the L-shaped sofa was empty, Shepard was seated on the floor with his back to the bottom of the furniture piece with an incredible array of data-pads and papers surrounding him on the rug.

She turned her attention back to the vid-screen and the program she was currently watching. It was a drama series set in the mid twentieth century, revolving around a team of doctors and nurses in an English hospital. Miranda had never been bothered to follow vid programs in the past, or any popular culture. It had never been something that interested her, and really she had never had the spare time. But now she had plenty of time, and was willing to give anything a try. She actually liked this series, sure it wasn't the best of acting and contained plenty of historical and medical errors that she abhorred, but the interactions between the different characters in the story were rather interesting.

Soon enough the program finished, the credits accompanying a massive gurgle from her stomach. Miranda rolled her eyes and sighed, patting her rather large bulge lightly. She could deal with the other side effects of pregnancy – the back ache, the sore feet, the need to use the toilet every couple of hours, the ridiculous – and for Shepard rather terrifying – sexual urges, the mood swings, headaches, and the nausea – but the constant hunger was driving her mad. And it wasn't as if it was a general hunger either, but specific cravings for only certain foods.

She slowly moved off the sofa, heading around it and walking slowly into the kitchen. A light jingling told her that Legion was following, the familiar clinking noise of his collar giving away the massive animals presence. Miranda passed the cooker and stopped in front of two of the many oak faced cupboards around the room, opening them with one hand and scratching Legion behind the ear with another. The cupboards were stuffed with food, but there was nothing there that she exactly wanted to eat. She shut the cupboard doors with a humpf and moved to the fridge freezer, opening up both doors of the unit at once. Miranda began to root through the draws of the unit, searching rather methodically. Eventually she found something.

"Hmm, a nice bowl of chips would be nice," She turned her head to look at the dog. He cocked his own head in reply. "Eh Legion?"

She grabbed the bag out of the freezer and headed over to the cooker, double checking the instructions on the back of the packet. Miranda had rapidly adapted to many domestic tasks she had never had to worry about before, like cooking. Though advanced things were still a trouble, she could cook basic meals rather well. It was a combination of reading through entire library's worth of cookery books and following Shepard's instructions, he was a surprisingly knowledgeable cook in fact.

Miranda threw a large portion of chips into a pan, placing that in the oven and setting it to cook. Then she walked over to the sink, resting her arms either side and gazing out of the window to the dark outside. It was a rather stormy evening, with vast quantities of rain lashing from the sky in an almost vertical direction. There was a sudden flash of lightening followed by a low rumble of thunder, and the wind howled as it blew across the mountains. The lake in front of the house was full of tumultuous waves crashing against the sandy shore, and the movement of the water was incredibly dramatic. And it reminded Miranda that she really wanted a drink.

She hadn't been drinking coffee during her pregnancy, and she didn't feel like drinking tea right now. She had exhausted their supply of juice and there wasn't really anything else appealing to her in the fridge. And Miranda had also drunk their stocks of hot chocolate, though she really did crave that right now.

"Hmm, how did John make it without the powder?" She drummed her fingers on the worktop, thinking back to a couple of weeks ago. He had made her hot chocolate using real chocolate rather than just powder, and it was far nicer. She turned back to the cupboards and grabbed a couple of bars of chocolate, tearing them open and shoving the contents into a pan. Miranda placed it onto the stove and turned it on, smiling at her resourcefulness as she watched the chocolate begin to melt.

Two minutes later the kitchen was filled with a burning smell, and Miranda was rather alarmed at the development. She ran a wooden spatula through the melted chocolate, finding lumps of burnt chocolate at the bottom. She frowned, John had simply melted some chocolate and added milk. Her attempt was a lumpy and burnt mess in a pan, hardly perfect. She decided to give up and get him to make her some later on, so she shoved the pan into the sink to wash later.

Eighteen minutes later the chips were done, and at least they were done well. Miranda poured them into a large bowl and headed back into the living room, happily munching her way through the food. She stopped as she caught sight of Shepard in the same position on the floor. She hadn't realised that he was actually asleep on the floor, and she placed the bowl on the table with a tender smile. Miranda approached him, slowly lowering herself down onto the floor and patting him on the shoulder.

"John?" She picked the bowl of chips up again and waved it in front of his face, wafting the smell under his nose. "Wake up."

"I don't want to lick...What?" She chuckled as he slowly woke up, muttering slightly as his eyes opened. His usual waking up, confused look turned to one of embarrassment. "I was asleep? I shouldn't have been, sorry."

"Hey don't worry about it," Miranda gave him a light peck on the cheek. "But you're working too hard, as per usual."

"Yeah well..." Shepard stopped and screwed his face up, jumping to his feet. "Shit!"

"What?"

"I was meant to contact the Hanar high command this evening, for Council business."

"Well it's late now," Miranda tugged on his arm, still seated on the floor. "You can do it tomorrow."

"But..."

"No," She interrupted him forcefully. "You've done plenty of work tonight."

"Fine," He sighed and sat back down, rubbing his eyes forcefully. "I'll do it tomorrow."

"Good," Miranda leaned into his shoulder, shuffling along the rug next to him. She felt an arm slip around her shoulders and heard Shepard yawn as she pressed another kiss onto his cheek, digging her hand into the bowl and continuing her snack. Another hand sneaked into the bowl as Shepard stealthily reached for a chip, he succeeded but she gave him a light slap on the wrist as punishment. "Oi, get off my food!"

"Smells like you burnt it though."

"I tried to make hot chocolate like you did, with proper bars of chocolate," She shook her head sadly. "Didn't work."

"Did you melt the chocolate using hot water or just over the stove?"

"Over the stove."

"There's your problem," He grinned. "If you just heat it directly you'll burn it, you have to use a Bain Marie."

"I see," Miranda took another mouthful of chips as they both fell silent. She glanced around at the piles of papers and data-pads surrounding them. "Bit of a mess."

"Sorry," Shepard looked a bit sheepish. "It's how I work best, as you know."

Miranda took a closer look at the papers. Many of them were handwritten, in Shepard's own hand from the pen lying next to him. It prompted a memory from the Collector mission, when he had handed her his first mission report after recruiting Garrus, Mordin, and Zaeed in one day on Omega. It had been handwritten in a neat and elegant script, full of small diagrams and highly detailed. He had continued to give her handwritten reports for the remainder of the mission, and it had been very surprising for her indeed.

"Why do you write by hand so often?"

"It's a long story," He shifted backwards, waving his hand dismissively. "Silly really, from when I was a kid."

"I'm sure it isn't silly," Miranda nudged him. "Spill."

"Fine, I must have been about four at the time though I can't remember where mom was stationed," He smiled. "We had a box room that we used for storing stuff in, most of the time it was locked. I was playing with a bouncy ball and it went nuts and through the door."

"You were banned from that room?"

"I wasn't meant to go in without mom, the boxes were all stacked really high and I was a bit clumsy at that age," He took another chip from the bowl. "I crept in with the attention of getting it out and going, but it went into an open box at the back."

Miranda's curiosity was peaked. "What was in there?"

"Papers, pages and pages of papers," He smiled again, rather fondly. "You remember I told you about the stuff my dad made, the old mechanical stuff?"

"Of course."

"Every time he made something he would write out exactly what he had done to make it, complete with technical drawings and diagrams."

"So they could be re-created?"

"I don't know to be honest," He stretched his arms out with a yawn before continuing. "But I was fascinated by his writing, it was so neat, so smart. Couldn't tell you why but it fascinated me, I was obsessed."

She cocked her head, it was a weird story indeed. "Did your mother find it out?"

"Yep, she found it really amusing."

"I think it's cute."

"I really wanted to be able to write like that so I took a bunch of papers and copied his style. First I copied letters, then words, followed by whole sentences," He chuckled. "I went through thousands of pieces of paper, it drove mom nuts."

"Was there a particular reason you liked it?"

"I don't know really, maybe..." He paused. "Maybe I felt closer to him, like it was something he was teaching me. Maybe I just wanted to impress my friends with a grown up way of writing, who knows?"

"I think it sounds like the former John," Miranda leaned closer to him. "And it makes a lot of sense to me. It was refreshing to see that you weren't just a marine jarhead with those reports on the Collector mission."

He gave her a challenging grin. "If you thought I was an marine jarhead you wouldn't have spent two years rebuilding me."

"Well marine jarheads are renowned for push ups, sit ups, and pull ups rather than intellect," She smirked. "Though I didn't mind your physical condition par say, it is nice to have a brain to go with it."

"Hah."

There was a short silence before Miranda spoke again. "I reckon you'll be a great father John."

"Possibly."

"No you will be, I know it," Miranda looked down, half muttering to herself. "It's me that'll be the problem."

"What? No way!" Shepard gently pulled her head up and around to look at him. "You will be perfect as a mother."

"Really? I just..." Miranda took a deep breathe, although she was looking forward to being a mother she was terrified. And John needed to know her concerns, even if they were embarrassing. "How will I know what to do? When the baby cries how will I know whether it wants feeding, or changing, or sleep?"

"I couldn't answer that really, and you're forgetting I won't know these things either," He cocked his head. "But you will know, somehow. Think about it, you're carrying our child, you have a bond with it already. You'll know."

"Maybe," She smiled gently. "Why are you so good at making everything seem better?"

"It's a gift," Shepard kissed her on the cheek before getting up, walking out of sight and returning with a small package. "And so is this, though it's for the little one really."

Miranda took the package off him as he sat down, opening it up to reveal a small, white plushy toy.

"That's a cute seal," Miranda placed it on her stomach, giving it a raised eyebrow. "Any particular reason behind it?"

"Everyone should have a seal."

"Erm..." Miranda turned and raised her other eyebrow at him, not quite sure what to say. "Is that another of Shepard's grand statements? Along with 'This is my favourite store on the Citadel' and 'I should go now'."

"It's 'I should go', there's no 'now'," He grinned. "And everyone should have a seal just because."

"Right."

He frowned. "It's not silly."

"No, not at all," Miranda tried to suppress a grin. "It's very sensible, I don't think the human life is complete without a seal either."

"You're pulling my leg now."

"You can handle it big man."

"Well that's a bit rich..." He smirked, patting her on her pregnant stomach. "Coming from the big woman!"

"Shepard! That is really rude, and very mean." Miranda huffed, crossing her arms and turning away from him. Shepard threw his arms around her shoulders, pulling her back to him and placing a passionate kiss on her lips.

"Sorry, that was a bit low."

"You are such an ass," She narrowed her eyes. "Hot chocolate, now!"