Prompt: Ashley's Good Day
"This," Shepard stated, "is a particularly shitty day." She sighted down the scope of her Volkov X-75 sniper rifle and made a clicking sound with her tongue as she watched the cluster of geth at one of the nodes three hundred meters away.
Whatever the atmosphere was pelting them with - ammonia rain? Ashley thought - it was smacking the tops of their helmets, drizzling down their face plates and sloshing across the strange pink plantlife where Shepard and Ashley lay prone. The rain made visibility through their helmet's visors nearly impossible. Thankfully, the sensor suites built into the rifles interfaced with the hardsuits computer.
Infrared, ultraviolet, x-ray and normal light all projected to the screen on the visor? Pffsh. Naturally. It made everything... shiny.
And colorful. Like licking a drell on a dare. Not that Ash would ever confess out loud to that crazy stunt.
Or that it had been Joker who had dared her. Or how incredibly drunk they'd been. She was pretty sure there had been kissing, but for the life of her, Ash couldn't remember if she kissed Joker, the drell, the bartender, or the asari dancer. And she wasn't going to ask.
Nope.
"We'll never speak of that again," Ash had commanded Joker the morning after with all of the authority of an incredibly limp noodle. Then had promptly puked green. Thankfully, what Joker had been puking up in the next john over was just as delightful.
"Aw, Skipper," Ash said, not looking up from the scope of her own Volkov. She was watching Kaidan's ass. Quite literally, actually. Shiny. He and Garrus were about knee-deep in the muck nearest the node cluster planting a rather fun cocktail of explosives. Two left to blow the damned geth base to Heaven and back. "It's Valentine's Day."
Shepard shifted and Ashley could all but feel her expression of disgust. "Shitty." She was quiet a moment. "Valentine's Day was yesterday."
"Zulu, Skipper," Ash reminded her. "Zulu time. Even the mighty Commander Shepard of the SSV Normandy SR-1 can't escape time. Just because on this planet 'today' is tomorrow and the next day and the day after that isn't an excuse. It's Valentine's Day. Just ask Joker."
"Still Valentine's Day here, Commander," Joker's voice broke in over their comms.
"See?"
They were quiet as they surveyed Kaidan and Garrus' work as the two techs moved to the next location to plant their explosives. So far, the geth hadn't noticed them.
"Got any poems for today?" Shepard asked after about an hour of lying there in silence soaking in the ammonia rain, surprising the Chief.
Ash snorted. "Skipper, poetry was created for Valentine's Day." Not an accurate statement, but Literature 101 or Romance 101 weren't the Skipper's forte. Skipper's forte was blow it as high as possible, pray and spray it, and squish it with biotics. Then ask questions.
Lots of questions.
Shepard's idea of romance was, well, Ash really had no fucking clue as to what Skipper's idea of romance was. Or why she thought Valentine's Day was so shitty, but then again, being stuck in deadly rain on a planet in the Traverse with pink plants and two squad mates planting bombs on a geth base three hundred meters away was a pretty shitty way to spend the holiday that was supposed to be full of romance.
However, the rose in Ashley's locker with a handwritten (seriously, who writes these days?) note made Valentine's Day all the more special. Even if she was stuck in deadly rain on a planet in the Traverse with pink plants and two squad mates planting bombs on a geth base three hundred meters away.
But the best part was the fireworks.
The boom was going to be spectacular.
Six hundred less flashlight heads.
And that, more than anything (even the rose), made today a good day.