"Honey I'm home!" There was none of the usual mad flurry of limbs. No impassioned assault of hugs and kisses. There wasn't even a long suffering sigh and roll of the eyes at the choice of greeting.

She must be in the bathroom, Nikki thought as she went to set the shopping bags down in the kitchen. However there was still no sign of Trish by the time she'd put everything away and a quick search of the house found her in the living room, eyes glued to the TV.

Nikki recognised the show as one Trish had introduced her to the first time she stayed over, before the posting on Luna. She knew it was her partner's favourite, but was still a little put out that she chose to look at the TV over her.

Then again nobody was perfect.

It was almost slightly endearing actually.

Besides, in the grand scheme of things an obsession with a TV show was a fairly minor fault to have. At least it wasn't drugs or hookers. Nikki couldn't help teasing her about it though, just because she chose to accept facts, didn't mean Trish had to know.

"Ok, note to self: don't bother coming home when Hooves and Harlots is on."

"It's not called that."

"Oh I'm sorry, 'Ponies and Prostitutes'." That at least got her partner to look at her, although the price was a laser sharp glare, the marine refused to break under the pressure however and instead she dared to utter: "Madams and Mares'?" Trish shook her head in defeat as she returned her attention to the screen and Nicola smirked in victory. "Horses and Whor-"

"Nikki, sit down and shut up or I'm kicking you out!"

"You might want to wait for an ad break before you throw me out, you might miss something." As if to prove her point the rider of the brown colt finally caught up to the runaway filly, catching hold of it's reins and bringing it to a halt.

"Shepard!" The soldier shut up and sat down.

She didn't complain as Trish pushed and prodded her into a more comfortable position for them to snuggle up together, receiving a belated peck on the cheek. Her own attention was soon drawn to the events on screen. They sat entwined, surrounded by a companionable silence until the rider returned to the barn. Jumping down from her mount with a splash of mud, she led the runaway horse back into it's stall before pressing the thankful owner hard against the wooden door, capturing her lips in a searing ki-

"Wait! What? I thought she was with Ysabel." Nikki couldn't help interrupting. Fortunately Trish didn't seem to mind so much when the disruption was a question about the plot.

"That was months ago babe, ohh you missed the whole thing with her and Lana."

"Lana? What, the accountant? I thought Lana was with Frankie!"

"They broke up."

"Seriously? They were good together. Is anybody still with the same partner as the last time I watched this?"

Trish actually had to stop and think a moment before answering.

"Mike and Helen are still together."

"Well of course Mike and Helen are still together, they'll be together til death do them part. My money's on double assassination by the way, eventually they're going to get frustrated enough to hire outside help... How did Mike survive the poisoning?"

"He still had an antidote from the time he tried to poison her."

"Ah..." There wasn't really a lot else to be said. Shepard supposed the show would make more sense if she watched it more often, but she couldn't imagine ever enjoying it as much as Trish seemed to.

...

{-passes to Tyra T'Sansis, only 162, this young maiden has long been touted as one to watch}

It seemed a little silly to listen to the live sports coverage on her omni-tool when she was actually at the game, but Shepard wasn't too proud to admit she wouldn't have had a clue what was happening without it.

There was a grace and beauty about biotiball, but it was also mercilessly complex and Nicola had given up trying to work out why some tackles were classed as fouls while other, more dangerous looking moves were considered perfectly legal.

Her confusion about what was happening was limited to the pitch however, she understood the reasoning behind hosting a primarily asari biotiball tournament on Earth, despite not yet having any native teams. Sport had long been a uniting factor among humans, bringing them together even as it divided them on which side to support.

Shepard had only been three years old when First Contact was fought, but was into double digits by the time human biotics started manifesting on a regular enough basis to be properly noticed by the public as anything more than rumours and conspiracy theories. They were different and people were always afraid of what's different. So many people still treated biotics as freaks.

With luck, events like this would help change the public's views, as well as provide kids just discovering their abilities with hope. A positive outlet for their skills and possible role models, even if they were asari. If of course, anyone could get their heads round the rules long enough for the sport to gather a fanbase.

Nikki couldn't imagine having chosen to come if Trish's coworker hadn't been ill and offered them his tickets, but despite her confusion she was still enjoying the experience.

A sudden, high pitch beeping of a pager alert caught her attention, but a glance down at her omni-tool failed to reveal a message.

"Hey pumpkin, I got to go." A voice just behind and to her right answered the question of the noise's origin.

"Again?"

"Yeah, again. I'll take a cab, leave the car so you can get home-"

"So generous!" The words themselves could be taken multiple ways, Shepard could imagine her and Trish using them in jest, but here they sounded far more frustrated than teasing.

"Come on, you knew... Ugh, you know what, I don't have time for this!"

Nikki felt her row of chairs shift slightly as the giant of a man pulled himself up, making it several seats down the aisle before he was interrupted.

"Wait! Be careful ok?"

"Don't worry, I will be. Hey, I'll be back before you know it."

"WHOO! Did you see that?" Trish's call pulled Nikki's focus back to the game, her sense of unease fading along with the memory of the interruption as she became fully submerged in the high octane sport unfurling in front of her.

...

"And that tackle on what's her face... number 7."

"It was pretty awesome, but I still don't get how that wasn't a foul-"

"It wasn't dangerous-"

"She threw her 20 foot into the air!"

"Yeah but it was controlled Nick. There was no risk of head, neck or spinal injuries on landing, that's what it's based on."

"You got the rest of the rule book memorised too?"

"Nearly." They sported identical smirks as they strolled arm in arm down the road, pressed as close together as they could while still maintaining a decent walking speed. "Oh and that charge in the second half! So fast it was like lightning!"

"You know, it's starting to sound less like you enjoyed the game and more like you've got a crush on T'Sansis."

"Aww you jealous? Don't worry Nick, you've got something she'll never have."

"Oh, what's that?"

"Brown eyes."

There was a snort.

"So all it would take to lose you is an asari with contact lenses? Good to know." It was meant to be a joke, she'd said it teasingly, but she couldn't help a flicker of doubt as the words left her mouth.

"Never!" She missed the rest of Trish's reply, drowned out by an angry hubbub of the crowd up ahead, people shouting to check out the news. Curious they pulled the channel up on their omni-tools, only to be greeted by the dreaded scrolling text: 'Breaking News'

{-identity not yet confirmed, but these pictures remain the last transmission received before communication was lost with the Vetus system. So far Alliance…}

"Batarians!"

Trish turned towards the sound of the low growl, she'd seen a lot of different emotions on her partner before but never the strange volatile mix that was there now. She could make out anger and sorrow but it was hard to pick out all the different elements that combined together on her face as a scowl. Hesitantly she placed a light hand on the soldier's arm.

"Hey, you ok?" The darkness cleared from Nikki's eyes slightly as she turned to face her, offering up a reassuring half smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine..." The smile faded. "It's the poor sods on Elysium you should worry about." A shake of the head kicked out the remaining negativity before it could fester, replacing it with, well… not quite positivity, but at least a certain amount of practicality: "Come on, there's nothing we can do about it out here. You're sure this is the right way to the restaurant?"

...

They'd just made it to the front of the queue to be seated, and were waiting on a waitress to make it back and show them to their table when the beeping was heard once more, this time accompanied by a faint vibration on Nikki's wrist.

The message was short enough for her to read twice in no time at all, glancing back up in time to see the apprehension clear in Trish's eyes.

"You've got to go?"

The soldier nodded.

"Recall notice, return to unit- Hey, where do you think you're going?" Trish had turned to leave the restaurant, reluctantly resigned to their fate, but Nikki forestalled her. "I've got 24 hours to report to Vancouver, it's what? A seven hour journey? Let's say for argument's sake that all the fleets have been called to arms and traffic will take twice as long... that still leaves us with plenty of time to eat. Come on, let me at least have one more good meal before I end up back on the MREs."

It was Trish's turn to flounder in a tide of emotions; worry and concern for her marine, uncertainty over what Nikki would be forced to face, anger at the fact their already rare time together was being cut short, guilt and regret over the selfishness of that last thought.

Somehow she managed to dig deep and force a smile on her face, ignoring her racing heart. Shepard could see the stress building in her partner's eyes but there was nothing she could do to help dispel it.

Without a word spoken out loud, they both resolved to make the most of the next few hours. Ignore the inescapable reality and pretend for a brief moment that it was still a normal day.

There would be time for teary goodbyes later.

...

Author's note:

And here we are: the most paragon Shepard I've created being one of a very select few NOT to be Hero of Elysium. One origin story down, two to go, which will it be? I know the answer to that but I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little longer to find out.

Hooves and Harlots is the title of an episode of Xena, I seem to be making a habit of getting distracted by something really random and turning it into dialogue for these two but hey ho, better than suffering writer's block.