Trish woke gradually, snuggling deeper into the duvet as she noticed her return to consciousness and desperately hoping she wouldn't disturb her memories of last night's dream. She'd dreamt of Nikki again. Even after all this time that was no rare thing. Sometimes it was memories, other times fantasies. Last night definitely belonged in the fantastical category. Sure it had seemed so lifelike, but that was also nothing new, and the content itself was so preposterous that it couldn't possibly be real; Nikki resurrected by and temporarily allied with Cerberus of all people, and then taking time out from a new mission of galaxy saving proportions to casually read animal noises to their son.

As if mentally summoned, there was a notification from the omni-tool on her bedside cabinet as the baby monitoring VI informed her that Little Nicky was awake. He wasn't crying thankfully, but she knew she'd have to get up if she wanted to keep it that way. Being a mother was both rewarding and demanding.

Dragging herself out of bed, she crossed the hallway into the room directly opposite, lips morphing unconsciously into a smile as they landed on an increasingly common sight. Whereas in the past Nicky had been content to stand, clutching the bars of his cot and watching the door for her arrival, recently she'd instead find him studying his night time prison far too analytically for her liking. Not for the first time Trish wondered how long she had left before he was making escape attempts, 'not very' she suspected, especially considering his genetic heritage.

Her eyes flicked to the photo of Nikki on the table outside the cot. There weren't many of them left on display in the house, accidentally glancing at them had a nasty habit of making her an emotional wreck, so they had been resigned to specific locations, places where she could choose to look and remember her lost love instead of being ambushed by feelings. There was never any doubt about Nicky's room having one though, she wanted him to know where he came from and it was comforting in a way to imagine her wife watching over him.

A frown creased Trish's face as she noticed a cup beside the photo frame, she never drank in this room. With a start she remembered getting Nikki a cocoa in her 'dream', surely not? She mentally performed a quick rewind of everything that happened and had to conclude that, as unbelievable as events seemed, it probably wasn't a dream. There wasn't any unexplainable jump cuts for starters, when she appeared in a room it was always because she walked there, when they went home after first meeting Nikki they used the skycar.

Then there was the fact her previous dreams tended to revolve around the idea that Nick hadn't actually died, or else they just glossed over it without any explanation of how she was there. Never before had Doctor Chakwas arrived first, explaining that the science checked out and it really was Commander Shepard reborn.

Never before had her imagination included those faintly glowing cybernetic scars. Scars that had her partner instinctively flinching at her light, curious touch; yet holding deliberately and patiently still when Little Nicky prodded at them. Assuring her 'it's fine, let him be' when Trish tried to make him stop, despite the obvious unease and discomfort on display.

"Mama?" A soft voice interrupted her thoughts. Sometimes she swore that kid had psychic powers. There was an old Earth saying 'speak of the devil and he will appear', with Little Nicky it often felt like you only had to think of him. Lifting him up, she started their morning routine, even as her mind drifted back to the two Nicks' interaction the day before. Dream Nikki had always been the perfect parent on the rare occasions Nicky Junior was present, yesterday's Nikki had been cautiously competent, nervous about every new activity but a rather rapid learner.

As she carried Junior downstairs Trish could feel her heart rate quicken in anticipation of what they'd find. The moment of truth. Disappointment struck deep in her chest as she stuck her head into the living room and found it empty, not even a blanket on the couch, only to be chased away by a flicker of hope at the smell of toast. Entering the kitchen she discovered a familiar sight, Nikki sat at the table with her omni tool off her wrist, propped up against the cereal box so she could read it. A bowl in front of her, spoon in her right hand and a slice of toast in her left. She was happily powering through the cereal but every time she'd need to scroll down on her omni tool the spoon would briefly be deposited in the bowl and she'd take a bite of toast instead. Trish huffed a quiet laugh, causing the spectre to look questioningly over at her.

"Now I know you're not an impostor."

"How's that?"

"Because you're using a little spoon for cereal!" They shared a chuckle before Trish's brain caught up with the sight in front of her. "Hang on! How did you make toast?"

"Ah, yes, about that. I have no problem with whatever happened to my N7 cup, or the fact my mako's no longer in the garage, or all the other little changes... but how can you not have a toaster any more?" Trish felt a stab of guilt as she thought of all the things she'd got rid off because they hurt too much to look at, only to shake it off when she realised there was no accusation in the commander's voice.

"I don't use it." She shrugged. "You didn't answer my question."

"Well... I just thought 'what is toast but bread exposed to a heat source?' Then I thought 'my omni-tool can generate heat' and then-"

"You incinerated the bread?" Trish interrupted with an eyebrow raised.

"No!" Nikki protested vehemently before fading off into a mutter: "I grilled it with my omni-blade."

The civilian burst into laughter, her next words escaping before her brain even had time to process them: "God, I love you." The spectre's mouth turned up into a small smile.

"Love you too Trish." The response was instant, Trish's eyes dropping down as she swallowed thickly. Nikki could practically feel the guilt radiating from her and with a sigh she caught hold of the other woman's hand. "Hey, look... I know this whole situation's pretty fu-" Her eyes flicked to her son sat expectantly in a high chair. "...complicated right now. Yesterday I promised to give you time to think things through and I will, but I love you Trish, I'm not going to apologise for that. Whatever happens I just want you to be happy. In an ideal world I want that to be with me, but if it's not... then that's ok too." A range of emotions flicked across the older woman's face as she gave a squeeze of their connected hands in lieu of the words she could not form.

"Mama!" The moment was broken by a plastic spoon being hit against the table, both of them turning to face their son who was one step short of having a meltdown at the prospect of having to wait any longer for breakfast.

"Someone takes after their opie." Nikki observed, forcing a soft laugh from Trish.

"Yeah..." She placed a bowl in front of the eager tot before deciding to jokingly add: "And since you've just admitted it's your fault, you can clean up the mess he makes!"

...

"Here, I want you to have this." Trish declared as she joined the two Nicks in the garden where they were waiting for the commander's transport back to the Normandy. She pressed the perfectly folded and highly treasured N7 hoody into Nikki's hands, watching as subtle hints of hidden emotions crossed her face.

"Thanks." Shepard's thumb traced over the embroidered logo. It wasn't just a favoured item of clothing but a reminder of who she was and what she'd achieved.

"And this..." Trish offered out a datapad with one hand, the corner of Nikki's eyes creasing inquisitively as she accepted it. Turning it on revealed a picture of a tiny face sticking out a bundle of blankets, Nicola gasped as she realised she was looking at her son as a newborn, the user interface informing her it was file 1 of 100. "I put it together while you were making lunch."

"Thank you." Unshed tears swam at the bottom of the spectre's eyes but she was far from sad. "I... thank you." Trish simply nodded in understanding, her attention soon caught by a growing shape in the sky. They fell into an uneasy silence, still not entirely sure where the boundaries of their relationship were. It had been a long time since they separated with anything less than a passionate goodbye kiss. For Trish it had been a long time since they'd been together at all.

"Well... I guess this is it." Nikki offered awkwardly as the shuttle started to land. She suddenly found herself pulled into a hug.

"Promise you'll be careful?" Trish whispered into her neck.

"I'll try."

"No more dying."

"Once was enough." She agreed, filled with a nearly overwhelming desire to kiss the civilian. Somehow she managed to contain herself to a gentle brush of the lips to the back of Trish's hand before crouching down to face her son. "I've got to go Nicky, you be good for your mum yeah?"

"No." Came back the instant, petulant response.

"Hmm, I think the word you want is pronounced 'yes'. Are you going to be good for mummy?" Nikki tried again but Nicholas merely shook his head as he repeated his previous answer. "Why do children always learn no before they learn yes?" The commander lamented as Trish chuckled.

"I've no idea."

A quick kiss and tight hug of her son later, Nikki passed the toddler over to his mother, heading quickly to the shuttle before she could do anything stupid. She paused briefly at the door to allow one last chance for Trish to give an overly dramatic, vid-worthy declaration of love but the moment passed, they'd already said everything that needed to be said, now all she could do was wait for Trish to make a decision.

Pulling herself into the empty squad compartment, she gave the order to the pilot for lift off, waving to her family until they were out of sight. She spent the rest of the short journey sifting through her emotions and trying to compartmentalize them, pulling on her metaphorical armour. The Normandy crew were expecting the legendary Commander Shepard and Commander Shepard had a job to do.

...

Author's note:

I feel like I spend every author's note apologising for the delay these days, sorry again about that. It's been so hot over here my brain's been struggling to put sentences together even at work where I know roughly what I'm supposed to be saying, creating brand new ones from scratch is even harder. Hopefully I managed to piece together something half decent and this hasn't come across as deranged, incomprehensible mutterings of a heat addled mind. In good news it was actually cooler yesterday so fingers crossed it will drop to a temperature my brain can consistently work at soon.

Next chapter: Shepard goes to Bekenstein, Melissa returns home and Trish has some thinking to do.