The honeymoon passed by in a flash and Nikki found herself sitting on the bed at home in her workout shorts and sports bra, feet on the floor as she looked down at the needle being twirled between her fingers. She'd had all the final checks: ultrasound, blood tests, the lot and been given the all clear from the clinic. Now they could finally go-ahead and start their family properly. It was both exciting and terrifying at the same time, to be sitting at the point of no return.
OK that wasn't entirely true. If they wanted to they could take as long a break as they needed in between Nikki's half of the procedure and Trish's, eggs could be frozen after all, but it was still a huge step. Her contribution to creating their child. She looked up as Trish stepped out the bathroom wrapped in a towel, a smaller one being used to rub dry her hair. A soft smile springing to her lips at the sight of her wife.
"Hey babe, do you still want to make a mini-me to unleash upon the galaxy?"
"Well, when you word it like that..." Trish teased with mock horror, holding her gaze for several seconds, reading the clear apprehension and desire warring in the soldier's face before kneeling down to her level, reaching forward to gently take the proffered needle. Her voice soft and tender as she added: "More than anything... Want me to do the honours?"
Nikki nodded, her muscles instantly stiffening while her eyes scrunched shut and Trish sighed. "It'd be easier if you relaxed you know." Another terse nod was the only sign Nick had heard her. "We don't have to do this now if you're not ready?"
"Got to, I've got wall charts saying so and everything. If I don't start today we'll have to restart all over again with the tablets."
"I know, but we could always wait until tonight. I'm sure I could come up with something a bit more romantic to help you relax." As she spoke she started tracing the tattoos on the soldier's abdomen with featherlight touches, marveling as she did so at how far they'd come from the days when her girlfriend insisted on keeping her scars covered at all times.
"Sorry Trish, baby making kind of lost the romance when I had to fill in all those bloody 'what if' forms. I think I'd rather just get the nasty, sharp, pointy bit over and done with quickly in the mornings rather than worry about it all day. Besides, I'm pretty sure the words: romance, needles and relax don't belong in the same sentence together."
"Hmm, I'm sure they would for some people."
"Well hopefully not you, I'd hate to think I unknowingly married a sadist. I mean, a bit of variety in the bedroom is one thing but needl- Ah, you bitch!"
"I'm sorry. I thought you said you wanted it over and done with." The voice was less false innocence and more barely concealed glee as she removed the now empty needle from between the dragon's claws.
"I hate you." Nick groaned, flopping backwards onto the bed. "I want a divorce." Trish merely laughed.
"Ok. Before or after the baby?"
"Both. And then I can marry you again and relive the best day of my life."
"You great big softie." Trish accused with a smile, straddling her partner and finally having the common decency to kiss better the skin she'd so ruthlessly attacked. "If I didn't have work today I'd ravish you right now."
"Hmm, I'm half tempted to make you call in sick and let you."
"Only half?" Trish teased, their faces close enough that she could feel the breath from Nikki's silent chuckle. The chime of a notification on the spectre's omni-tool interrupted any further response, and required a rerouting of the hand that had been wandering perilously close to Trish's miraculously still secure towel.
"That would be the other half."
"Typical, only a week of marriage and already cheating on me." Trish joked, causing Nikki to look up from the message in confusion, face morphing into a smirk when she realised what she'd said.
"The Alliance is a cruel, cruel mistress... My shuttle's twenty minutes out, I best get ready."
"You'll be late now anyway, what would a little longer matter?" Trish pouted, refusing to move despite a gentle prod to the ribs. With a sigh Nikki wrapped her arms around her wife's legs, lifting her up enough so she could stand in a single movement, before turning and depositing her spouse back on the bed.
"You are trying to get me in trouble." She accused, tearing her eyes away with difficulty and forcing herself to walk to the wardrobe in order to start putting on her dress blues.
"You're more than capable of getting in trouble on your own." Trish responded, propping herself up on her elbows so she could watch. "You know... as sexy as that uniform is, I don't think I like reverse strip teases."
"It's called dressing babe. You might want to try it."
"Where's the fun in that?"
"No fun, but there is money."
"You'll pay me to get dressed?"
"No, but if you're quick enough your boss might pay you for going to work." Nikki didn't quite catch the grumbled reply but she could guess. "How about I make it up to you tonight."
"You will will you?"
"Yeah." The N7's smirk suddenly morphed into a frown. "Although considering you're the one who attacked me with a giant bloody needle, I'm pretty sure you should be making it up to me."
"It wasn't that big a needle."
"Haven't you heard? Size doesn't matter."
"Aww, is the big bad spectre scared of an ickle bitty needle?"
"I'm not scared of them, I just hate them, there's a difference."
"Sure, if you say so dear." Another message alert interrupted their repartee, bringing forth a synchronised sigh. "You should go."
"Yes I should." They shared a brief and mostly chaste goodbye kiss before Trish pushed her wife towards the door and finally headed towards her own wardrobe.
"Hey Trish," The civilian turned to find Nikki holding up the now empty needle. "Same time tomorrow?"
...
Nikki Shepard, oft times immature wife of Trish Shepard and hopefully future parent, left the house and jogged towards the nearest landing field. Four and a half minutes later Commander Nicola Shepard, spectre, N7 and hero of the Citadel returned Flight Lieutenant Something-or-other's salute with crisp precision and boarded the shuttle that would take her to Arcturus station.
Fortunately the powers that be (aka the admiralty board) had approved an extension to the mutually beneficial agreement that had allowed a council spectre (aka her) to take temporary command of an Alliance vessel (thankfully still the Normandy). Maybe it was just because it had been her command, but the Normandy felt like a second home in a way that none of her previous ship postings had ever managed. They had only ever been a place of work, a base of operations and somewhere to lay her head and rest between missions.
It was easy to forget that Eden Prime had been the Normandy's shakedown run. With all the excitement and action that followed, this was the first time the Alliance had been able to pull the prototype stealth frigate into dry dock for any length of time. As Shepard was taken on a tour of her own ship, under a near constant verbal bombardment of information she either already knew or would likely never need and so instantly forgot, she started making mental bets with herself on how long certain changes would stay before her crew returned everything to how it had been before.
The morning was practically gone by the time the tour was finished and she was able to start work on the large stack of datapads that had built up in her absence. Some were a simple case of read and sign, others involved scheduling calls or filling out forms. She also needed to go over the crew manifest.
For the most part the ship-side crew was easy enough. Where possible she just requested the same people she'd had before and if they weren't available she told the heads of department to find someone they figured would be a good fit. The ground team was a little trickier.
Tali had already left to go back to the flotilla, her pilgrimage at an end.
Garrus had decided he wanted to try and join the spectres, a goal Nikki wholeheartedly supported. The next of the advanced training courses the turian hierarchy ran for potential spectre applicants wasn't until the end of the year however, and she'd graciously allowed him to remain on her team, racking up experience until then.
Wrex had taken her speech about the fate of the krogan people to heart and planned to return to Tuchanka to raise his people kicking and screaming back into a semblance of civilization. Albeit a krogan version of civilization. He kept putting it off though and so Shepard offered him continued use of the Normandy's cargo hold to live and plan in for as long as he wanted, with rent comprising of fighting by her side when the situation arose. Hardly a hardship for the ancient battlemaster.
Liara had asked to stay, at least until the proposed salarian archaeological trip to Ilos was ready to depart. The STG had made the most of Saren's research into indoctrination that Shepard had managed to save on Virmire, and developed a brain scanning technique that would hopefully identify indoctrinated people. So far it only worked for salarians, they'd need more data and studies into the comparison of salarian and non-salarian brain structures, functions and patterns before they would know what to look for in the scans for other species and could offer the service to their allies. But for now the test was being added to the annual medical all STG agents had to undergo, as well as to the pre-(and post) expedition requirements for any personnel taking part in archaeological or scientific study of believed prothean or reaper sites and artifacts.
As for the human marines that were actually supposed to be on her ship: Corporal Jenkins was deceased and Fredricks was relearning how to walk on his new prosthetic leg. She knew Williams and Alenko were both mobile, they'd been at her wedding after all, but she would have to send out a request to find out if they'd be fit for combat duty. The two lower enlisted personnel were easily replaced, but she didn't want to make a decision regarding Ash and Kaiden's berths until she heard back from the medical board.
Tali's departure was the trickiest hole to fill, the quarian was the quickest and most naturally gifted tech she'd ever worked alongside in a battlefield. She doubted she'd find a perfect fit and she certainly couldn't fly round the galaxy picking up random quarian pilgrims all the time so that left only one option worth considering.
She typed a quick email to the current head of training at the Villa and ten minutes later had a dozen personnel files for the top N4s and 5s in the engineer class. It was getting late though, so she downloaded them onto a datapad for perusal on the shuttle and shut everything down to head home.
...
"Anderson!" Nikki caught sight of her friend and mentor out the corner of her eye as she made her way through the hallways towards the shuttle lounge, quickly turning and jogging down a side corridor after him. He stopped at her shout, waiting for her to reach him before continuing towards his destination as she seamlessly matched his stride. "Bad luck about your promotion Sir."
"Most normal people say 'congratulations' Shepard." The Alliance's newest rear admiral informed her wryly.
"Most people aren't N's." The youngster shrugged carelessly and he felt the corner of his lips twitch. "Plus I know you. You'd much rather be in the thick of it than stuck behind a desk. No matter how fancy or prestigious the desk, so... Bad luck Sir."
"I admit, military attache to the citadel certainly isn't how I pictured my career going, but we all have to make sacrifices in the name of duty."
"True, but most of us expect that sacrifice to be an arm or a leg or something, not loosing our soul to boredom and politics." He couldn't help but chuckle at that one. "Far as I'm concerned it's a damn waste sticking you in a pen pusher job Sir."
"Thanks Shepard, but someone's got to do it. Besides, you've still got my ship."
"Sorry about that Sir. Can't you get them to build you another one?"
"I think they're going to be a bit too busy rebuilding the Third Fleet to be able to spend credits on Normandy class frigates right now. Especially since as a council race we're entitled to more dreadnoughts than we were allowed before."
"That reminds me, we need to convince the turians to build more dreadnoughts so the other races can increase their fleet sizes too. We can't openly tear up the Treaty of Farixen without causing inter-species scuffles, but it's going to get in the way of reaper preparations big time if we're not careful."
"I'll add it to the list." Anderson sighed, looking older and tireder than she'd seen him in a long time.
"You know, you should come down to the surface for dinner one night before I ship out. I'm sure Trish won't mind. We've got a garden with real sunlight and everything."
"Thanks Shepard, if I ever find myself with a meeting free evening I'll consider it. Well, this is me." They came to a stop outside a nondescript door, Nikki wincing slightly in solidarity as she recognised it as Admiral Drescher's office. Anderson spared a quick glance at his omni-tool, noting he was early. "If I don't see you before you go then good luck out there."
"Oh don't worry, I'll pop round and liven things up for you whenever I'm on the citadel."
"I'm dreading it already." He deadpanned, forcing a chuckle from the spectre. She cast a furtive gaze around the corridor to check it was empty before walking backwards away from him, singsonging:
"If you're having prime steak for tea tonight clap your hands." Anderson shook his head as she disappeared round the corner clapping. Then he wiped the faint smirk off his face, took a deep breath and knocked. After all, some members of the System Alliance military had work to do.
Meanwhile Shepard jogged towards the nearest shuttle bay, thankful that her wife had chosen to settle on the nearest planet to Arcturus station making a daily commute to the Alliance HQ possible, if not entirely practical on a regular basis. She had her own plans for tonight and didn't want to be late.