"Close your eyes." The command came from behind, breath tickling her neck like a passing ghost.
"Trish, I'm holding a baby." The reproachful response clearly indicated the spectre's belief that the two activities should not take place at the same time but Trish seemed unperturbed. A hand trailed from the top of Nikki's spine across her shoulder blades as Trish made her way to the front, staring at her wife with a smile.
"Close your eyes, I have a surprise." That at least explained the rest of the morning. Nikki had been ejected from the house just after breakfast with the instruction to take Nicholas to the park and not come back for at least an hour. Nicola had been in a sulk for most of the way there until she realised she had an excuse to play on the swings. After that the time flew by, a message on her omni-tool eventually interrupting her enjoyment to inform her they could come home now.
With a sigh she gave in and closed her eyes, other senses automatically straining to make up for the disadvantage as Trish gently tugged her into motion.
"You better not be walking backwards." She couldn't help saying, but the only response was a slight chuckle. "You're just asking for us all to trip over if you're walking backwards."
"You get shot at for a living and you're worried about falling over." Was Trish's disbelieving retort. Nikki was sure she could have come up with a suitably witty remark if given time, but with a brief warning of: "step", they made it into the garden and promptly halted.
"Here, let me take Nicky." The soldier relaxed slightly as the live cargo was removed from her hold. "Ok, you can open your eyes."
She was much more eager to follow that instruction than the earlier one, blinking slightly as she adjusted to the light to find a banner stretched across the fence declaring:
HAPPY BIRTHDAYs
The pluralisation clearly having been carried out by hand. Flickering lights drew her attention to a cake in the centre of the table below, various finger foods set up around it.
Closer inspection revealed four lines of candles stretched out across the cake, adding up to her publicly perceived age of thirty-one, each candle stuck in its own individual square of pink or yellow sponge. The first two lines of eight black candles were separated by a further four rows of cake before reaching the final two ranks of white candle. The difficulty of her age being an odd number was overcome by an intricately modelled marzipan chess piece sat nonchalantly on the square usually reserved for the white king. It was truly a chess board of battenberg.
Trust Trish to inform her how silly her random throwaway comments during conversations were and then remember them weeks or months later and act on them anyway.
"It's perfect, thank you." Nikki finally remembered her manners, glancing over at Trish to find the fading remnants of concern leaving her eyes and a soft smile appearing on her lips.
"Glad you like it." Trish took a moment to settle Nicholas into his highchair, it being one of the few places that he wouldn't attempt to escape from since he associated it with food. The trade off however was that if he didn't receive food then a temper tantrum was practically guaranteed. She passed him some pineapple to ensure his silence and turned back to her wife. "Go on then, blow out the candles, make a wish."
Nikki might not be the best chess player in the galaxy, not even the best in her own house, but she knew the basics and bent over the white side of the board first. Her initial blast of air failed to put out the entirety of the two rows, but instead of blowing again she moved to the other side of the cake and gave the black candles a go, continuing to switch sides to Trish's amusement until they were finally all extinguished.
With an air of triumph she picked up the marzipan king and bit it in half, offering the remainder to Trish. Her wife declined with a shake of the head and Nikki popped the rest into her mouth, prompting a disappointed noise from her son whose unseen hand had been stretching out hopefully towards her.
Settling into a chair of her own and helping herself to some sausage rolls, Nikki's heart seemed to both swell and ache as she caught sight of four individually wrapped presents. It had become something of an unspoken tradition that they always gave each other two gifts on their birthdays.
A proper present and a joke present.
A big gift and a little gift.
Something they wanted and something they needed.
The exact categorisation varied from year to year, but the number stayed the same.
The deviation of tradition re-highlighted just how different this event was. Twice the presents for twice the years passing.
"You ok?" Trish's gentle concern broke through her musings. It seemed her wife hadn't lost her skill in picking up on her subtle mood swings. Nikki plastered on a smile as she reached for the first gift.
"Yeah... I'm just wondering if I've somehow been conned out of a cake."
Trish cracked a faint smile at the soldier's words but the concern didn't fade from her eyes. Fortunately Nikki didn't need to keep up the pretence for long, a genuine laugh erupting from her chest as she removed the wrapping paper to reveal a dark navy cap, the words 'no comment' emblazoned in gold embroidery.
"You remembered." She pointed out needlessly as she stuck it on her head, wide mouthed grin finally reaching her sparkling eyes.
"You like it?"
"I love it! I almost can't wait 'til the next press ambush so I can use it." Her features suddenly dropped into a frown, faint trace of self-loathing entering her voice. "Urgh, I can't believe I just said that."
Trish simply chuckled, watching as Nikki took the cap off and studied it in her hands. It was made of thinner, less rigid, cloth than the caps Joker liked to wear and had a crease down the middle of the visor that enabled it to be folded up small.
"Pocket sized. You think of everything." Nikki complemented, briefly depositing the hat in her pocket before changing her mind and returning it to her head.
"I try." Trish replied, deftly removing the wrapping paper that Nicholas had managed to catch hold of before it reached his mouth. His face immediately scrunched up, an ear-piercing screech signalling his displeasure.
Both adults winced at the volume and pitch, their various attempts to calm him down failing until an inspired Nikki scooped up some birthday cake and shoved it in his direction with near instant success. Her triumphant smile at the successful bribe faded as she turned and encountered her partner's exasperated glare.
"What? It worked didn't it?" She defended herself, sensing an impending lecture on appropriate parenting. Or, at the very least, on appropriate healthy bribes. Still, her ears were thankful for her action even if no-one else was.
"Just don't make a habit of it." Trish relented with a sigh. Nikki couldn't help thinking that if it wasn't her faux birthday party she probably wouldn't be let off so easily.
"Like I'm going to make a habit of giving away cake instead of eating it all myself." The spectre scoffed, trying to lighten things back up as Trish held out the next gift as a peace offering.
"Is it earplugs? Please tell me it's earplugs."
"Sorry, no earplugs." Trish replied.
"Industrial level ear defenders?" Shepard cupped her hands over her ears to mime the over-the-ear protectors, forcing a reluctant twitch of the lips past the civilian's stoic defence.
"Sorry, still no." The raven haired woman picked the present up, turning it carefully before shaking it next to her ear. "Just open it you idiot, you're not going to guess what it is."
"I might be able to. A life time supply of cotton wool?"
"No."
"A year's supply of cotton wool?"
"No. It's got nothing to do with Nicholas."
"Oh, well, in that case... Concussion grenades?"
"What?" Trish was startled into laughter. "Why would-... No! Just get on with it."
"Fine." Nikki pouted. "But I would have guessed eventually if you didn't rush me."
"Maybe..." Trish conceded graciously, a mollified Shepard finally unpeeling the sellotape. "...If we stayed out here until Christmas."
"Hey!" An indignant head rose with a mock glare but Trish was unrepentant, smirking back at her.
The soldier's attention dropped to the falling wrapping paper, lifting up the exposed hoodie contained within.
The garment clearly had design influences from the commander's favoured N7 top, the hard earned blood red stripe on the right arm replaced with lines of black and yellow on the otherwise white top.
Cerberus colours. She thought with a barely concealed grimace. But without the Cerberus logo.
Instead the left side of the chest held a small but recognisable representation of a ship. The single word 'Normandy' embroidered underneath, just in case there was any doubt. Unsure what to think, she glanced up into the calculatingly cautious gaze of her partner for an explanation.
"You said you were trying to get on better with your new crew, build bridges, extend olive branches, stop being a dick and get the job done, that sort of thing."
"I don't believe I worded it quite like that." Was the mild reply.
"No, you called it 'Operation Mutual Co-operation, my toughest mission yet'." Came Trish's retort. Not for the first time, Nikki wished the civilian would forget some of her random ramblings during vid calls. "Uniform's exist for a reason Nick, not just to try and lower friendly fire incidents. They help promote a sense of team identity, that thing you said you needed to try and build with your ship side crew. I know you'll never wear their uniform, I'm glad, but after all you've told me... this would help reassure them you're committed to the crew, to the mission at least."
"You're probably right." Shepard sighed. "You're usually right, it's just..."
"You don't have to wear it if you don't like it. I'm not forcing you. It was only an idea."
"I do like it, it's just... Cerberus colours... It feels too much like accepting them. Not my crew, I've accepted that necessity but... their organisation. The bits I don't like, the actions I can't condone... It feels like I'd be betraying their victims, hell even my morals if I wear their colours."
"Then think of it as a disguise. In fact, don't think about it as Cerberus colours at all. Think of it as Digeris Warlocks colours." Trish suggested, Nikki smiling as she thought about the turian clawball team's uniform.
"Why would I support the Warlocks? Clearly the Cipritine Cyphers are the better team."
"You're only saying that because of Garrus." They shared a chuckle, Trish leaning over and squeezing her hand, not letting go despite loosening her grip. "I meant it when I said you don't have to wear it. I won't mind. Just think about it before you ceremoniously incinerate it. I know you won't lose your morals just because you wore the wrong top."
They were silent for a moment before Trish gently pulled back.
"Well... After that monumental fuck up of a present-"
"Hey, it wasn't that bad." Nikki defended halfheartedly, both of them temporarily forgetting about the no swearing rule.
"Still... Here, I know you'll like this one much more." Trish declared, pushing the penultimate gift forwards, Nikki examining it with a critical gaze.
"I think I know what this is." Trish raised an eyebrow at her partner's claim. The Lazarus project may have strengthened Shepard's bones and hardened her skin, but Trish was pretty sure it hadn't given her wife x-ray vision, especially considering her earlier failed predictions. "It's a box."
Trish bit back a snort, reaching over and knocking Nikki's new hat off, flipping it round and sticking it on her own head. It was Nikki's turn to snigger as her eyes darted up to the words 'no comment' before darting back to the package in her hand.
She carefully started peeling off the wrapping paper, this time making sure to deposit the rubbish on the side furthest away from Nicky's highchair. Her jaw suddenly dropped, eyes widening as she brutally tore away the last of the paper to fully reveal...
"No way! How'd you-... These are like crazy rare and expensive, I was starting to think I'd need to sell a kidney to get one! It's even in the shrink wrap still."
Trish smiled at the unbridled joy evident in every aspect of Nikki's being, but there was a subtle undercurrent of sadness to her voice as she admitted: "I pre-ordered it when they were first announced."
However Nikki didn't seem to notice Trish's words or the unspoken translation: I bought it before you died. Her attention firmly fixed on the limited edition collector's model of the SSV Normandy. She barely hesitated before removing the shrink wrap, instantly devaluing it by several hundred credits, opening the box and pulling out the sprues to gaze in awe at the multi-part kit.
"Do you think Ben will notice if I break into his house and steal his glue?"
"You might want to open your other present before you start plotting criminal activities." The extremely brief glance towards the remaining gift before her eyes returned to the unassembled model in her hands implied Nicola didn't agree with Trish's suggestion. "Trust me."
A reluctant spectre carefully put the pieces back in the box, making sure not to lose anything as she settled it reverently back on the table and begrudgingly accepted the final item Trish handed her.
A much plainer box greeted her under the wrapping paper but the enthusiasm rekindled in her eyes when she opened it to reveal, not only the required glue, but also a modelling drill, file, pliers, three different sized paint brushes and a selection of paints. A closer look revealed the paints were even her preferred shades rather than the generic options usually included in generic starter kits. Forest green instead of woodland green, what more could anyone ask for?
"You know you're the best right?" Nikki declared suddenly, nearly overwhelmed by emotion at the attention to detail and how personal each gift had been. Reaching out a hand, she tugged her partner onto her lap.
"I know." Trish confirmed without the slightest trace of modesty, wrapping her wife in a loose hug, brushing their lips together in a chaste kiss, and conveniently forgetting to mention that red was red to her and she'd enlisted Ben's help in customising the contents of the final box.
"It should be illegal to look that smug and beautiful at the same time." Nikki muttered, Trish leaning back slightly for a better look at her face. Hand subconsciously tracing the faint surgical lines still visible across her cheeks.
"Is that a complaint? Do you want me to stop? If you want I'll never look beautiful again. I mean... it'll take some work but-"
"No." The soldier interrupted, her hands had been wandering under Trish's top as they talked, finding their way to the small of her back. "I like you just the way you are."
"Easy there, smooth talker, you're not unwrapping me while Nicky's awake." Nicola didn't remove her hands despite twisting her head round to look at her son. His mouth and fingers were sticky with cake, big brown eyes watching his parent's with intrigue and no sign of being ready for bed. Nikki's head dropped against Trish's shoulder with a sigh, finally regretting giving him such a sugary bribe.
"So... How do you feel about tranquilliser darts?" A melodic laugh filled the air as Trish shook her head fondly.
"And what would you even do once he's asleep? Me? Or your new model?" Nikki's brow furrowed as her gaze glanced between the woman in her arms and the oh so briefly forgotten Normandy on the table. Hesitating before deciding:
"Is this a trick question?"