Quick Author's note: I know some of you wanted a Xmas special but I'm afraid this is just the next step of the story. However if you do want a xmas themed chapter check out my other stories, I've just posted one called 'Xmas 2180' which features Nikki & Trish a couple of years before Eden Prime and the events of the first game. Can't promise it'll be any good, I literally thought of it this morning and wrote it down, but hopefully you'll like it. Anyway enough about Xmas, on with the story:

"You made the news again." Trish declared as she ran an analytical gaze across the vid screen image in front of her.

"Good news or bad news?" Shepard inquired warily and Trish couldn't hold back her laugh.

"I don't know, what would you consider stopping Saren and saving the Citadel to be? Of course, it's good news!"

"Hmmph, I don't know. I was half expecting the press to criticise the fact I took so long and made a mess of the Presidium or something." The soldier admitted. "They usually manage to find a fault in my work somewhere."

"Not this time. Well, not yet anyway. So... how badly hurt did you get?"

"It's like you have no confidence in my abilities! Why do you always assume I must be injured after a mission?"

"Because I know you." Trish declared resolutely, before admitting: "Plus I can see the hospital room in the background. So, I'll ask again... How bad are your wounds?"

"Depends who's asking." Nikki answered evasively. "If it's you then I'm fine, if it's someone trying to round up volunteers to clean up the Presidium then: 'I'm terribly sorry, doc says I've got to stay in this bed'."

"You're sat in a chair." Trish scoffed.

"Pfft, details."

"Of which there are remarkably few in your description. How many broken bones are we talking?"

"Hey!" Nicola protested the assumption loudly, before continuing at a more normal volume: "Just the one actually. I'm surprised how good a condition I'm in all things considered. No new scars, only the one bruise."

"Yeah right!" Trish clearly didn't believe her.

"It's true! Admittedly it covers most of my body... There was probably more originally but they all sort of merged together, I'm just one giant bruise under this uniform. Oh that reminds me, I can still wear my dress blues to the wedding."

"Oh good, I was worried we'd have to change the whole colour scheme." Trish responded in a dry voice.

"Speaking of weddings... did you get my list?" Trish rolled her eyes, she didn't need to ask which list.

"We are not having a twelve tier wedding cake! You need to start vetoing some of those flavours." The spectre equipped her best set of puppy dog eyes but Trish had over eight years experience to immunise herself to the effect and shielded herself with a raised eyebrow.

"Okay..." Nikki finally relented in a small voice. "What if we get rid of the fruit cake?"

"The fruit cake's the traditional part! What are we supposed to give the old fogeys?"

"That's your problem, I don't have any old fogeys on my side of the guest list." Trish shot a rather unimpressed look at the camera before her devious mind came up with a trump card.

"Uncle Steve likes fruit cake." Nikki pointed a finger, mouth open ready to retort before closing it, knuckles brought in to graze against her teeth in thought. Finally she used both hands to gesture with in order to emphasize her words as she offered:

"We could make a small fruit cake for Hackett, and anyone else who wants some can fight him for it."

"Nikki..." Trish didn't say anything else but then again she didn't need to, the reproachfulness audible in her voice. The younger woman sighed in defeat.

"Fine... the one's who want something boring can have the victoria sponge and those who want fruit can have the chocolate orange."

"Umm, when did we approve a chocolate orange layer?" Trish queried, bringing up the list on her omni-tool.

"About twenty seconds ago when I first thought of it."

"You realise we're supposed to be narrowing down the choices, not adding to them right?"

"But it's chocolate orange! You can't honestly tell me you don't want a chocolate orange layer?" Trish sighed, unable to stop the traitorous twitch of her lips as a smile tried to break through.

"Fine, we can have chocolate orange instead of the plain chocolate layer." The civilian acquiesced, but Shepard's victorious smile quickly vanished as her partner continued listing terms. "But we'll have to get rid of some more too. I'm sure you don't need all of the following: gingerbread, strawberry, coffee, banana, toffee..." Her list was interrupted by a plaintive mewl and she looked up at the wobbly bottom lip and deep soulful eyes of a traumatized marine.

"I'm not sure I want to marry you anymore." Nikki claimed and Trish couldn't help bursting into laughter.

"Is that so?" The spectre nodded determinedly. "Hmm, do you think we should call the whole thing off?" She quickly changed to shaking her head. "How about if I bake a special 'saving the galaxy' cake just for you to make up for destroying your wedding cake dreams?"

"I think I love you babe."

"I thought you might. What flavour do you want?"

"How many tiers have I got?"

"Just the one."

"I hate you."

"Of course you do. So that's fruit cake for the 'saving the galaxy' cake then?" It was Nikki's turn to chuckle.

"Now usually at this point I'd say 'I dare you', but you bloody would 'n all."

"You know me so well." Trish retorted.

"And yet for some reason I still want to marry you."

"The final proof that you're mad."

"I may be crazy but I'm crazy about you."

"Very good. I'd be more impressed if I didn't know you stole that from a song."

"Shit, I've not asked Hackett for permission yet!" Nikki suddenly stated out of nowhere and Trish looked at her in utter bewilderment.

"Why do you need to ask my uncle- no, wait, more important question. How do you even get to that thought from our conversation?"

"Sorry babe, I've got to go. I'll call you right back." The call disconnected and Trish was left looking at a blank screen. She shook her head with a sigh.

...

Admiral Steven Hackett was technically off duty when he felt the tell tale vibration on his wrist of an incoming call. He was slightly surprised, although nobody watching him would have been able to tell, to find it was from the hero of the hour but without any mission priority flags attached. Few subordinates chose to contact him if they didn't have to, and the commander was no exception to that rule. Most of the time their relationship consisted of him calling her with missions. Still there was only one way to find out what it was about so he answered it. Her image springing to life above his wrist.

"Shepard, what can I do for you?"

"Uh, I want to marry Trish Sir." For once in his long and interesting life the man colloquially known as 'The Hatchet' was left speechless. He blinked once, twice, before his brain managed to regain control of his mouth and he managed a response that came out halfway between dry and wary.

"I am... aware, of this. Molly has spoken of little else for weeks now. Apparently I am going to be walking Trish down the aisle."

"Right, right. So do I have your permission Sir?"

"My permission?"

"Yes Sir. Neither of us has living fathers and you're the closest male relative so, err..." The spectre trailed off uncertainly. It was a rather old fashioned and barely acknowledged tradition now she thought about it. She blamed Trish for going on about fruit cake.

"What would you do if I said no Shepard?"

"Uh Sir?"

"You're asking me not telling, which means I have to give a response, so I am curious; what would you do if I said no?"

"I was kind of hoping you wouldn't Sir."

"But if I did?"

"Err... I'd have to tell Trish? I'm sure she'd try and change your mind Sir." To her surprise the big man chuckled.

"I knew N7s played dirty Shepard, but that's just evil. I'd have Trish AND Molly after me. Alright, you can have my blessing Nikki, but I stand by what I said before: You ever hurt her and you'll have the entire Fifth fleet on your ass, Spectre or no."

"Aye aye Sir." Nikki responded with a smile and sigh of relief. She ended the call and dialed another, grinning as her fiance popped into view almost instantaneously. "Hey Trish, guess what? We're getting married!" The civilian shook her head in despair.

"You just called him didn't you?" The soldier nodded. "Remind me why we're planning on having a kid when I've already got you?"

"Because I need an excuse to play on the slides and roundabouts at the park without looking like a weirdo." Nikki declared without even pausing for thought.

"You are a weirdo."

"Well yeah, but I'm not a creep."

"True." They fell into a comfortable silence, neither sure what to say next but unwilling to simply end the call. It was Shepard that thought of a new topic first.

"Babe..."

"Hmm?"

"Do you think we have room in the garage for a mako?"

"A mako?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to regret asking this but... why do you want a mako?"

"Not just any old mako, my mako. From the Normandy. Everyone's been taking the piss about me finally writing off an IFV, but if I can fix her back up then it wasn't a write off."

"I see. So it's a question of your reputation and pride."

"Well I was thinking of it more as having a retirement project, but that works too."

"Are you thinking of retiring?"

"Not any time soon, but there's no harm in having plans in place."

"Hmm, so you want to keep an inoperable heap of metal in the garage until you finally one day retire, just in case it's maybe possible to fix it, and then what are you going to do with it afterwards?"

"Hey, this is me we're talking about! There is no maybe about it. You know I can fix it, I just need enough spare time."

"Mhmm. As I said, then what will you do with it?"

"I haven't quite decided yet. You can say no if you want you know. I can always drop it off on Intai'sei instead."

"You never did tell me how you got that house."

"I won it off Admiral Ahern in a bet."

"What kind of bet?"

"The kind you wouldn't approve of."

"Well that doesn't narrow it down much." Nikki laughed at Trish's deadpan response.

"Maybe not, but I want to live to see my wedding day."

"Speaking of... Now Saren's out the picture we really should pick a date."

"I was thinking sometime in May."

"May 83 or May 84?" Trish sought clarification, more than aware that the month in question had already started.

"This year."

"You're not impatient at all, are you sweetheart?"

"I can be plenty patient when I need to be, but I've loved you since I was 15 years old, I think I've waited long enough."

"Well when you put it like that... What took you so long?" There was a self deprecating chuckle from the soldier as she glanced down at her hands, not looking at her fiance as she admitted quietly:

"I kept waiting for you to realise how you could do so much better than me." Trish smiled sadly, she had thought she'd put an end to those sorts of thoughts years ago.

"You always were an idiot. Even if by some miracle I could somehow do better, I wouldn't want to. I love you Nick, you, no one else."

"Good, cos you're about to be stuck with me."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."