Trish woke to the sound of soft grunts of exertion. Her eyes wandered across the room until they landed on the wonderfully toned and mostly naked back of her partner as the soldier performed pull ups on the bedroom door frame.

She took a moment to simply enjoy the flex and flow of beautifully sculpted muscles, eyes trailing down to a perfectly shaped arse, highlighted rather than hidden by its confinement in a pair of black undies.

Her gaze briefly took in lovely long legs crossed at the ankle, before working hungrily back up the body again. Her wife's flesh was broken at uneven intervals by a variety of scars, mementos of the soldier's past, but to Trish they simply accentuated the image rather than mar it in any way.

There were certainly worse sights to wake up to.

Nikki suddenly dropped to the floor, pivoting on her feet and morphing seamlessly into shadow boxing. Even in a sportsbra her breasts bounced slightly from the motion and Trish's eyes were immediately drawn. The soldier managed several punches before she noticed her enthralled audience and her eyes lit up, smirk stretching out across her face as she bobbed and weaved towards the bed.

"Like what you see?"

Trish hummed an agreement before a devilish grin of her own appeared.

"I can think of better ways to exercise." She declared sultrily but the spectre merely scoffed.

"Yeah, if your son didn't have a damned sixth sense for when his parents are trying to enjoy themselves."

"Oh, he's my son today is he?"

Nikki didn't respond, merely glowered half heartedly as she launched into a high speed flurry of punches. She did love her son, and she had been aware in advance of the potential disruption children could cause to a healthy sex life, but that didn't change the fact that last night had been her last before she had to leave her wife for who knows how long and go back to work.

Surely it wouldn't have been too much to ask for to have a proper send off? A fond farewell that she could look back on during the long months alone.

Trish probably had similar thoughts as she glanced calculatingly at the clock.

"You know... We probably have time for a quick shower before he wakes."

"Sorry, did you just say quickie or shower?" Nikki questioned, heat and mischief in her eyes as she leaned over, pinning her wife to the bed and exposing Trish to her full sweaty fragrance.

"Shower. You definitely need a shower." Trish proclaimed, wrinkling her nose.

"But..."

"Shower. Now." Trish pointed firmly towards the door but Nikki was too skilled at reading her wife's moods to be fooled.

"Make me." She dared. Leaping out the way as Trish moved to push her off the bed. Fortunately the blinds were closed as the spectre streaked out the room and down the corridor, wife in hot pursuit.

"Fuck!" She'd forgotten about the child gate at the top of the stairs, too much momentum to safely stop in time. She could easily hurdle over it but the tumble on the other side would not have been healthy. Instead she chose to crash into a nearby wall with a thud. Trish barrelling into her a moment later, clutching tightly to avoid falling.

Giggles sprung automatically from their mouths, cutting off suddenly as they shushed each other, shooting guilty looks towards their son's bedroom door. An awkward silence stretched out as they strained their ears for any sign of Nicholas waking.

The spectre clearly thought they were safe as she leant forward, slowly and deliberately wiping her sweat across her partner's flesh.

"Eww! Gross!" Trish's attention fixed firmly and immediately back to her wife. Her attempt to push the soldier away thwarted by the wall at Nikki's back.

"Now you need a shower too." Shepard retorted impishly without the faintest hint of remorse.

"I was going to join you anyway. There was no need for that." Trish reprimanded mildly but she only received a shrug, not an apology. "Oh, wipe that stupid smirk off your face. Better yet, get in there and I'll wipe it off for you."

Needless to say the spectre's grin didn't diminish as she led her wife into the bathroom. It might not be the perfect sendoff, but there were still plenty of perks to sharing a shower.

...

"Miranda." Nikki greeted her XO with a nod as she strode onto the Normandy two days later, 'birthday' presents safely tucked inside the bag on her shoulder. Even with mass relays and FTL speeds, travel between solar systems still took time. A week of shore leave translating into only a long weekend at home.

"Commander." She received a similar nod in return as the Cerberus operative fell into step beside her. "Any idea where we're heading next?"

"Wow, straight to business, have you never heard of small talk? Pretend to be friendly, ease into the conversation. How was your shore leave?"

"How was your shore leave?" The XO huffed out with a resigned sigh.

"Great, just what I needed. However I was asking about you?"

"It was... productive."

"Please tell me you didn't spend the entire time working?" Nikki's request was met with silence. When she glanced in Miranda's direction she received a pointed look. "At least tell me you didn't do anything that Chakwas wouldn't count as 'light duty'?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardise the mission."

"Perfect human being my ass, you're a bloody turian in disguise." Nikki muttered almost, but not quite, under her breath before changing her mind and declaring at a more normal volume: "No, belay that. Turians have a better work-life balance than you Miranda." When the jibe didn't get the rise she was hoping for the commander upped the stakes. "EDI has a better work-life balance than you."

"Thank you Shepard. However-" The AI's voice promptly sounded from the ceiling, but Nikki cut over what was likely to be a contrary explanation.

"EDI listens to music, and watches films."

"You ordering the AI to explain the most iconic and prevalent memes from the last two years, then giving it a list of films and artists and asking it to trawl through the entirety of cultural history to give you tailored recommendations for similar bands hardly counts." Miranda refuted. "Besides... I listen to music."

Shepard cocked an eyebrow: "Oh really? Like who?"

"Bach, Beethoven, Mozart..."

"It's a start." Shepard sniffed. "If you like that sort of music you should try T'losas, or do you only listen to human composers?" She didn't even give her conversation partner time to respond, face lighting up as she suddenly jumped topic: "We should have weekly film nights for the crew."

"I'm sure you can do what you want on your ship." Miranda acquiesced without enthusiasm. "Have we fulfilled your small talk requirements yet? We really should decide our next destination before the full crew contingent return."

"I was thinking Thessia." The commander declared, face straight but tone light as they stepped into the elevator.

"Why Thessia?"

"I've never been before and we did both agree we needed more biotics on the team after Horizon. Where better to find biotics than Thessia?"

"I already gave you a shortlist and... you're joking aren't you?"

"And you're learning." Nikki replied with a grin. "I'll make a proper human being out of you yet." The glare Miranda shot the spectre with would freeze a lesser woman but Shepard kept smiling. "Alright, alright. Give me a moment to put my shit away and kick my brain back into work mode. Shall we say your office? Ten minutes?"

"That will be acceptable Commander." Miranda would have loved to stride off at that moment, but she was confined to the elevator. With no desire to engage in idle chatter, she was forced to stand still and silent, hoping the awkwardness wasn't apparent.

Out the corner of her eye she saw the spectre's lips twitching as the cursed woman presumably realised the same thing, albeit apparently finding the situation much more humorous.

...

"Murder, assault, kidnapping, arson, piracy..." Shepard bemoaned ten minutes later as she read a datapad aloud. "The woman's got a rap sheet longer than my arm and no respect for authority, just how is she on our shortlist?"

"The Illusive Man seems to think she's the most powerful human biotic alive today." Miranda replied, just the faintest hint of bitterness in her otherwise neutral tone. She had been created to be perfect, but every field she applied herself to there always seemed to be someone considered better than her.

"Most powerful is not the same as best." Shepard retorted. "The no.1 specialists in their field will fail if they can't work as a team."

"That's where you come in Commander. You have experience moulding disparate individuals into an effective team."

"Right." The spectre scoffed. "You realise everyone on the first Normandy wanted to be there? We all believed in the same goals. This... Jack... I somehow doubt I can appeal to her deep-seated desire to save the lives of human colonists. What exactly am I supposed to be offering her as motivation for joining our merry band of misfits?"

"Freedom from incarceration for starters."

"She crashed a space station into a hanar moon, I'd kinda say she deserved to be locked up. If she was a batarian and the moon was human she'd be labelled a terrorist and stuck on Alliance hit lists."

Shepard massaged her temples, her brain snidely informing her that the terrorist argument probably wasn't that effective when talking with a card carrying member of Cerberus. She forcibly pushed the thought aside.

"Ignoring that for a moment... What's stopping her from taking that freedom literally and simply jumping ship first chance she gets? I'd rather not be responsible for unleashing a psychopath on innocent people."

"The Illusive Man also believes we have information she will be interested in acquiring." Nikki raised an eyebrow, silently demanding more explanation. "Information concerning her past."

Her mind exploded down several different paths at that. There were only a handful of reasons she could think of why Cerberus would know more about an individual's past than the person in question. None of them good. Before Nikki could decide on a response her attention was drawn away by a notification chime.

The XO's face visibly paled as she opened her omni-tool and read the contents. For a moment the normally collected woman looked dazed, possibly even devastated.

"Miranda? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." The Cerberus operative declared, slipping easily back into the ice cold persona she had cultivated for so long. However Shepard had spent enough time infuriating the woman during the start of their acquaintance to know that it took a lot for her to lose composure. "Everything's fine."

"Lawson..." There was a cautiousness to the commander now. Although they got on better they were still colleagues rather than friends, she was wary of crossing a line but she'd used 'fine' often enough in her life to know it rarely meant 'nothing' and she did have experience in pushing Miranda's buttons. "You look like a kid whose just been told Santa's not real."

"It's a little more serious than that! My sister-" The Cerberus operative cut herself off the moment she realised she'd risen to the bait but it was too late.

"What about your sister Miranda?" The commander asked softly, as if she actually cared.

"It doesn't matter. It doesn't concern you."

"You're part of my crew, if you have a problem then it concerns me. If there's something I can do to help..." Shepard trailed off and despite not wanting to say anything, despite knowing every manipulation trick in the book, Miranda still found herself opening up.

It wasn't that she needed to talk to anybody. After all the Illusive Man already knew; the message informing her that he was making arrangements for Cerberus agents to relocate Oriana and her family. The information had been a shock but the situation was in hand.

However the commander already knew about her father, giving her a little more detail shouldn't hurt. Especially if it helped foster a further sense of camaraderie between them. It was the first time Miranda could remember Shepard claiming her as a member of her crew to her face. That had to be good for the mission.

A milestone moment.

That was the only reason she said anything; for the good of the mission.

But after the information had been relayed Shepard simply sat there, an inscrutable look on her face, before asking a question Miranda so rarely heard:

"What do you want to do about it?"

She didn't need to do anything. The Illusive Man was handling it. That should have been enough.

It had always been enough.

But the question wormed its way around the inside of her head. What did she want? She wanted to be there. To see for herself. To make absolutely sure that Oriana was safe.

"Where is she at the moment?"

Like hell she was going to tell the spectre that! Next thing she'd know some Alliance black ops team would kidnap Oriana and try to use her as leverage. Try to turn her against the organisation that she believed and trusted in.

"Illium. One of the suburbs in Nos Astras." She said and immediately wondered why. She briefly considered whether the commander had found a way to drug her. There was a small stash of sodium pentothal hidden aboard the Normandy after all.

The fact that its location was securely locked to Miranda's DNA should have been reassuring, if Shepard wasn't on exceedingly good terms with Kassumi. Miss Goto could probably find a way round the security measures if she wanted.

Miranda ignored the insidious part of her that claimed she wanted Shepard to know. Wanted Shepard to care. That having Shepard think of her as crew, having the commander's acceptance, was important to her and not just the mission.

She already had a place in the galaxy. Cerberus accepted her and gave her purpose. She didn't need anyone or anything else.

Regardless of how the soldier managed it, she was now in possession of all the facts, there was nothing else for Miranda to hide and she had been asked what she wanted. She found herself giving an impassioned plea, at least she managed to keep her tone mostly neutral.

"I know we've just had a shore leave but if there was any way I could take some time off to check on her..."

"No. A ship needs an XO." The commander shot her down immediately, not even having the decency to look at the Ceberus operative, attention firmly fixed on the datapad in her hands and Miranda felt her heart sink. The concern had been a ruse after all.

She tried to hide the internal turmoil from her face as her brain jumped back to the idea of Alliance black op teams. It took a moment for her to realise that the the commander was scrolling, not typing, on the datapad.

"Perfect! I thought so." The spectre suddenly exclaimed. "The drell, Krios... and he's even a biotic."

Miranda masked her confusion, trying for an expression of polite curiosity as she awaited an explanation.

"EDI," the commander called out, seemingly ignoring the woman who's office she was sat in. "Plot a course for Illium, let Joker know to head out as soon as everyone's aboard. There doesn't seem to be much information beyond 'Illium' in Krios' dossier so I guess Nos Astra is as good a place as any to start."

Shepard finally looked up, meeting Miranda's rapidly recalculating expression with an even gaze.

"I won't require you on my ground team for this one Lawson, I'm sure you can find someway to occupy your time."

"Thank you." Miranda swallowed the lump in her throat. She appreciated the act even if she wasn't a fan of Shepard's chosen delivery method.

The spectre simply nodded, standing to leave.

"If things go pear shaped and you need backup just let me know."

...

They'd almost reached Illium when Nikki's omni-tool buzzed with a rather short message from Trish.

[You are banned from teaching Nicky new words!]

Shepard desperately scoured her brain, trying to figure out what she was supposed to have done wrong. She was fairly sure her son hadn't been swearing when she left and she wasn't sure what else could have prompted such a dramatic response from her partner.

She quickly downloaded the attached video file, certain the reason would be inside.

The first thing she noticed was Trish and Nicky in the kitchen, the toddler impatiently sitting in his highchair while Trish prepared something on the work counter. The second thing she noticed was the camera angle, whatever she was about to see had been ripped from the house's security feed and not filmed on an omni-tool with the expectation of people wanting to watch it.

"Nicky, what do you want in your sandwiches?" Trish's voice was audible but not particularly loud so Nikki turned the volume up, just in time to hear her son's response of:

"I' k'm!"

A grin immediately split the spectre's face, her chortle almost covering up recorded Trish's long suffering sigh.

"Ice cream doesn't go in sandwiches Nicky."

"I' k'm! I' k'm! I' k'm!" The toddler's legs were swinging back and forth maniacally as they dangled under his chair, his tiny hands smacking the table in front of him.

"No... You can have ham, or cheese, or..." Trish worked her way through the contents of the fridge, showing each one to Nicky as she named them. The boy was too young to know the words but he had eaten enough of them to make the link between look and taste.

Nicola knew what was supposed to happen next: Nicholas would point to what he wanted, Trish would repeat the word as she bought the item closer for his inspection, he would nod or make a grab for the food in question and Trish would let that be his meal, all while asking if he was enjoying his 'whichever word in question'.

Unfortunately video Nicholas seemed to have other plans, ignoring the offered food in favour of slamming his hands down with another shriek of: "I' k'm!"

"Your opie has a lot to answer for." Trish declared as she turned round and put the items back in the fridge. Nicholas caring even less about those words than he had about 'ham'.

"You can have cheese." The adult informed him. "It's made from dairy like ice cream is, that totally makes them the same thing."

Nikki smiled at her wife's logic, even as it went over the head of their tantrum-ing son.

The video ended, but neither Nikki's grin or the warm glow in her chest faded as she remained staring at the black screen. Eventually she minimised the video, taking a moment to reread the accompanying message before making a decision and hitting the reply button.

[Just wait until I teach him 'cake'.]

It would be hours at least before Trish read it, longer before Nikki received a response, but she could already imagine the look on her wife's face.