"Just a minute." Trish answered the call while remaining offscreen, leaving Nikki staring at a sleek, light brown, wood effect door that she was fairly certain wasn't part of their home. She was given a mere twenty seconds to try to work out where her partner was before Trish confirmed her mounting suspicions.

"Ok, there, how do I look?" The camera twisted, coming to rest on a full length mirror, revealing a... well... Shepard supposed 'vision' was just as good a word as any.

After all, the prothean beacon gave her visions.

Her brain floundered for a moment, before she finally managed to articulate an appropriate answer for her wife:

"You look beautiful, those clothes look hideous." Trish giggled, actually giggled, at the response. "What the hell's it supposed to be?"

"This," The civilian twirled in front of the mirror, proving the outfit was just as bad from the back and sides, "is the latest from T'Lither and Ralk."

A look of incomprehension crossed the soldier's face.

"It's fashion!"

"Babe, I love you dearly, but do me a favour and please, please don't be fashionable this year."

Trish laughed once more before finally admitting: "Don't worry, you couldn't pay me to wear this in public, they really have outdone themselves with the awfulness this season."

Nikki hummed an agreement, barely holding back a groan as her eyes picked up on the obscene amount of clothes visible in the mirror.

It was just her luck, not even in the same star system and her wife still managed to drag her shopping!

"It was worth it to see your face though." Trish declared, unzipping the abomination and letting it drop around her ankles. "So, how's your day going?"

"Getting better by the second." Nikki enthused as she rapidly reassessed the situation. This was much better than having to sit outside the fitting room and wait.

"Chivalry is dead." Trish joked as she finally secured eye contact with her partner's roving gaze.

"Hey, if you didn't want me to look you'd have made sure I couldn't."

Trish smirked before deliberately dropping her discarded outfit over the camera.

"That was my own damn fault."

"Yep." She truly didn't mind Nikki looking, but there was no point in being a tease if she didn't, well... tease.

"So, recruit anyone interesting today?" She asked as she shimmied into the next ensemble.

"Nah, all done with recruiting I reckon. Would need a second kodiak if the squad got any bigger. Well… I suppose we could squeeze one more in the front if we kicked out the co-pilot, but twelve's a good number. Adaptable. I can run missions with two squads of six, or three of four. Heck I could even split the team into four threes but I'd need another squad leader."

She trailed off as she realised that a) she was rambling, b) her wife was more than capable of doing the maths herself, and c) said woman was watching her with a hand on one hip and a curl to her lips.

Which meant a) the camera had been uncovered and b) it happened long enough ago that the civilian had resorted to putting a hand on her hip.

"What do you think?" Trish inquired once she was sure she had Nikki's attention.

"I think you need to go up a size."

"You saying I'm fat?"

"No, I'm saying the dress is tiny. Be honest, that can't be comfortable right now."

Trish rolled her eyes, removing the offending article and putting it back on the hanger. Not bothering to cover the camera as she chose another outfit seemingly at random.

"So you're doing what now? Hanging around waiting for a target or…"

"More or less." Shepard's grimace voiced her frustration at the situation more than her words. With no way through the Omega 4 relay they couldn't take the fight to their enemy, and with it being an Omega relay they couldn't just blockade it with a fleet and open fire the moment a collector ship crept through. "I'm hoping I'll be able to mould the guys into an actual team before then though."

"Jacob still giving Thane the stink eye?"

"Yep, at least I can trust those two to be professional under fire though. Don't get me started on Jack and Miranda."

"Have you considered putting them in timeout?" Trish teased, posing in front of the mirror.

"Are you trying to get me killed honey?" Nikki responded before recognising the silent request for an opinion. "Hmm, it fits."

"That's all you've got?"

"It's better than the first one?"

"You're doing real well with the compliments today Nick."

"Hey take it off and I'll have compliments plenty. You're fucking gorgeous, but the outfits really haven't been compliment worthy so far babe."

"You just want to see me in my underwear."

"What can I say? At least you still have taste when it comes to lingerie."

Trish snorted. She'd be more offended if several of the outfits hadn't deliberately been chosen for their awfulness.

She didn't even get a chance to put the next item on, Nikki shaking her head as soon as she picked up the hanger.

"Nope, definitely not."

"Why not? What's wrong with it?" It took all of Trish's acting ability to hide her anticipation for her wife's next comment as she glanced at the monstrosity in her hands.

"What's wrong with...? uh, the colour! It looks like lark's vomit."

"It says salmon pink and shroom brown on the label." She mused innocently.

"It's fucking lark's vomit."

Trish laughed.

"Why specifically lark's? Why not some other vomit?"

"I don't know." The soldier shrugged. "Fashion industry likes to pretend it's pretty, right? They'd hardly name it pyjak puke or varren vomit."

"I don't think they name their colours after any type of vomit. Nice alliteration though."

"Thanks, I try... Actually I didn't, it just came out my mouth, but whatever."

There was a moment's silence to mark the death of the conversation before Trish revived a previous topic.

"Anyway, you were going to tell me about Jack and Miranda?"

"No I wasn't."

"Yeah you were."

Nikki gave a groan that had nothing to do with either the clothes or her partner's repeated stripping.

"Jack hit Miranda with a shockwave during a training sim."

"What! Seriously?"

"Allegedly it was an accident. I've seen similar accidents during Alliance training exercises and she did hit three batarian targets in the same blast while Lawson was only clipped so it is possible."

"But you're not convinced?"

"Usually the biotic is too busy apologising to smile after genuine accidents. I can hardly use a smile as proof that it was premeditated though, especially when Zaeed was smirking away. Hell Jacob only just repressed a chuckle. And I can't imagine Jack apologising for anything, she'd view it as a weakness."

"So it's fifty/fifty whether she did it on purpose."

"More like seventy/thirty, but yeah. Can't prove it either way."

"And if it was a genuine accident and you come down hard on her she'll see it as you picking on her. Not to mention, destroy any semblance of trust you've built because you're as good as saying you don't believe her word. Whereas if it was on purpose and you let her off…" Trish trailed off with a sympathetic sigh. "Damn that's a tricky one."

"Yep."

"What did you do?"

"Gave her one on one sessions with Samara to work on biotic accuracy for the rest of the week. Ok, now THAT looks good." Nikki finally approved of a midnight blue dress.

"You think?" Trish inquired, turning for a better angle in the mirror.

One shoulder was draped in satin, the other left tantalisingly bare, fabric cascading down her body, accentuating her curves in all the right places.

"Oh yeah, very sexy. Think you might want heels though."

"We can go shoe shopping after I'm finished here."

"You already have heels." The spectre noted her mistake too late and desperately tried to fix it.

"Not for this dress."

"It's blue, you've had blue dresses before so you must have shoes that will go with it."

"Nikki..."

"Fine." The soldier groused. "I'm sure this counts as torture under the Treaty of Shanxi."

"Look at your omni-tool Nick, there's a button that lets you hang up any time you want. The fact that you're still here suggests it's consensual torture."

"Wow, way to make me sound like a masochist babe."

"Oh I can think of better ways to prove that." Trish purred sultrily before her voice turned dismissive: "Besides you've had SERE training, you'll be fine."

The soldier failed to hide the slight twitch to her lips as she flopped back on the sofa with a put upon huff.

"Fine, let's go shoe shopping!"

"Not so fast, I've not finished trying on dresses yet."

"I'm doomed!"

Despite her protests Shepard still didn't hang up as she watched her super sexy wife remove the super sexy dress with deliberately slow, seductive movements. Tongue flitting fruitlessly against her lips in an attempt to remoisturise them.

It was official, she reflected, trying not to give her tormentor the satisfaction of a moan. Trish knew just how to torture her and she was a most willing victim.

…

Author's note: hey folks, hope you're all safe and well in these interesting times. Not a lot of plot this time round but I'm just glad something wanted to be written. I'm fairly sure my muse, motivation and discipline are all in self isolation at another location.

Don't panic! Despite what Shepard said Tali will still be joining the team in the future. I was trying to plan out balanced squad layouts for a mission and realised just how many team mates there are in ME2, I know I added Torma but the kodiak shuttle size is cannon and there's still Tali and Legion left to recruit. I'm now imagining Legion clutching desperately to the outside of the roof. (Or Shepard just pilots the shuttle herself, that also works)

Reviews are always welcome. Also if anybody has any Little Nicky prompts they'd be gratefully received, even if it's just one or two words like 'vegetables' (please not vegetable though, I've already used that one for an ME3 chapter). He's currently between 18-24 months and Nikki's already chosen his xmas present.

That's all for today, stay safe.