"Are you sure you want to sleep back here?" Nikki asked as she looked around the AI core.
"Yes." Liara claimed with a nostalgic smile. "What is it that Garrus says: 'It's so similar to past times'?"
"It's not the same ship, Liara. Not the same crew. Even this room has a different purpose." The commander's voice was hard and the asari's smile faded into a frown.
"Still... It's the room behind the med bay. No chance of me getting lost."
"Fair enough." Shepard conceded. It wasn't as if her groundteam hadn't claimed a wide variety of strange and unusual spaces throughout the vessel as their own. "Just let me check that EDI's ok with it."
"Why-" Liara cut off as the human turned to face her, expression suggesting that not only did she know what the question was going to be but that Liara was mad for needing to ask it.
"It's her AI core, all her stuff's down here. It would be like inviting you to sleep in someone else's walk-in closet without checking them for permission first."
"An interesting and not entirely accurate metaphor, Commander." The AI in question piped up. "Although I understand and appreciate the intended sentiment."
"How would you explain it then?"
"The whole ship is an extension of myself, my body if you will. You are currently standing next to my brain."
"Yeah… My version is less creepy EDI."
"My version is more accurate."
Liara was staring at her, a look of 10% horror and 90% scientific curiosity on her face.
Nikki wasn't quite sure what she'd done now to deserve that look, but she remembered the incessant questioning about the prothean beacon and visions from the first Normandy and had no desire for a repeat if she could help it.
"Anyway, moving on... EDI, any objections to Liara inhabiting this room while she's aboard?"
"No objections to her inhabiting the room, but I'd prefer… I'd prefer… I have a block preventing me from answering that question."
Shepard's jaw clenched tight.
EDI had noticed a correlation between her block kicking in and Shepard tensing since the human had asked whether the block hurt.
"Forget that question then." The commander said. EDI recalled another conversation they'd had about literal vs figurative speech, how context was key, and patiently did nothing.
Well… technically she was still monitoring the ship for the Illusive Man, scanning their current star system for distress signals as per the commander's standing orders, assisting Mordin with his latest research project and discussing live action vs CGI pornography with Joker…
However, the part of her engaged in conversation with the commander did nothing.
Nikki meanwhile had her thinking face on, thumb tapping against forefinger.
"So, EDI, on a completely unrelated note…" She started, Liara's head tilting curiously in her direction. The commander was known to go on the occasional tangent, but she didn't usually announce the fact. "Have you found any more vid clips you think I'll like?"
It was an innocent enough question. When she first came aboard a lot of the spectre's downtime was spent trying to catch up on the music, movies and memes from her missing two years. Not to mention sporting events.
While she doubted she'd experienced everything yet, they'd branched out into general recommendations outside the two year period.
EDI said nothing, but after a few seconds a projection popped into existence.
In it, a grey haired gentleman in a suit approached a mannequin in a bluey-grey lab coat.
"Here we are. Sorry about this Fred."
He proceeded to place a sleek ballpoint pen in the mannequin's top pocket before counting to three, each number accompanied by a click of the pen.
Shepard watched calculatingly as he covered his ears and ran behind a nearby wall, a black-haired male stepping into frame as the mannequin's top half exploded.
"Don't say it!" The elder instructed with a pointed finger.
"The writing's on the wall?" The younger man quipped.
"Along with the rest of him." The first man chuckled.
Instead of laughing, Shepard frowned, her eyes darting across the background, taking in the gas tanks, corded phones and blocky computer monitors as she searched for the reason EDI was showing her this.
What was the AI trying to say?
Her eyes landed on a suspiciously placed baguette, only to be distracted by a background character being blown off screen.
The foreground characters seemed distracted in the opposite direction, black hair picking up the sandwich and examining it closely.
"Don't touch that!" Old guy shouted, making a grab for it. "That's my lunch."
"What was that?" Liara asked as the projection vanished. Technically she wasn't on the crew manifest so EDI didn't have to answer, but the AI chose to anyway.
"A clip from the 1995 film 'Goldeneye'. It was the seventeenth film in the James Bond franchise, a film series that followed fictional British spy-"
"Ok EDI, that's enough." The commander interrupted, fairly certain she'd interpreted the clip correctly.
"Liara, if you can't work out what just happened on your own then I'll explain it to you later when we're not on a Cerberus vessel. In the meantime you can use this room as long as you don't touch, hack, or otherwise interact with EDI's hardware."
A look of understanding flashed across the asari's face. However, before she could agree or disagree to terms, Shepard spun on her heel, gesturing for Liara to follow her as she moved towards the exit.
"You missed the monthly fitness test, so we'll do that privately. Fail and compulsory PT training is at 0700 each morning. If you pass you can handle your own fitness regime, although you're welcome to join the PT sessions voluntarily."
Chakwas looked up as they entered the medbay, Shepard aimed a nod in her direction but neither her pace nor words faltered as she continued:
"Skills and drills, team training will be-"
She finally halted as the opposite door swished open, admitting a maelstrom of noise.
"I'll put you in the fucking medbay in a minute! I said I'm fine. Fucking let go of me!"
The room suddenly felt a lot smaller with a krogan inside, despite his apparent attempt to shrink in on himself. In front of him walked a batarian who was practically dragging a mostly nude, heavily tattooed human woman.
Jack, Grunt and Torma, Liara's brain supplied. She wouldn't be a very good information broker if she couldn't even find out who was on Shepard's groundteam.
"You better sleep with one eye open, asshole!"
"Well, at least three of them can get some rest, that's still more than you." Torma shrugged off the threat despite the growing taste of eezo in the air. Liara could see the faint ripple of biotics on Jack's skin.
"What seems to be the problem?" Chakwas asked pleasantly, seemingly unphased by the invasion.
"These assholes are deaf, that's the fucking problem! I already told them I'm fine."
Unfortunately for the youngster, Karin was used to triaging large groups by eye and she had already noticed:
"Your hand looks pretty swollen, Jack. May I scan it please?"
"I said I'm fine." Came the sullen reply.
"If you want I can get Mordin down here to replace me, but I recommend getting it checked out. It is probably sprained, but possibly broken." The doc explained patiently. "Neither is fatal but a broken bone left untreated will be weak, prone to further injury and a source of residual pain for the rest of your life."
The inner turmoil was clear on Jack's face.
She was tough. She could handle pain. But she couldn't afford weakness. And did she really want more pain if it wasn't necessary? Hadn't she suffered enough in her life already?
What was the alternative though? To trust a doctor? To leave herself to their mercy? She couldn't, wouldn't, put herself in that situation again. No matter how much her hand hurt.
Fuck, it stung like a bitch though.
She just needed some painkillers. None of that other shit. Why were the only drugs on this ship locked up in the medbay?
There was no way Chakwas would let her have some without submitting to her bullshit tests first. Maybe she could talk to the invisible lady. Ask her to steal some for her.
She didn't really know the thief that well though, what if she snitched on her to Shepard?
Shit.
She couldn't… she couldn't…
"Easy Jack." Shepard's voice broke through her panic. "Just breathe. Deep, slow breaths."
With a gasp she noticed the waves of biotic energy flaring defensively across her skin. Remembered Shepard's threat to put her down if she couldn't control herself.
She fought for breath. Fought her fear. Fought her biotics.
Fought the urge to flare, to go on the offensive, to lash out before anyone else could take the first strike.
She could take them.
Everyone in this room, she could kill them all, surely.
But she wouldn't get off the ship alive.
She'd go out in a blaze of glory but, despite how shitty her life had been, she didn't want to die.
She fought for breath. Fought her fear. Fought her biotics.
She was good at fighting.
Her biotics thrummed beneath her skin, ready to lash out at a moment's notice but temporarily contained.
With a deep breath she looked up into the commander's furious gaze, only to find no trace of anger in those calm brown eyes.
"There you are." Shepard stated softly. No armour, no pistol, as she stood in front of her. Not touching. Just there.
Jack's gaze flitted round, rapidly taking everything in.
There was an unknown asari at the back of the room. She didn't appear to have any firearms or bladed weapons but their biotics meant an asari was never unarmed.
Chakwas hadn't come any closer but she had twisted slightly, subtly highlighting her empty hands, the desk beside her similarly free of medical implements.
The asari was still standing where Shepard had been when Jack had first been dragged in. She was watching events with curiosity rather than hostility, but Jack wasn't taking any chances.
Torma had finally fucking let go of her and was standing just out of punching range. Twat.
The asari didn't feel as powerful as Samara. Then again she wasn't actively flaring her biotics so it was hard to tell.
Grunt, the cunt, loomed between her and the door, looking concerned. Probably worried about getting in trouble with Shepard. Wuss.
The asari-
"Ok, thank you boys." Shepard interrupted her observations. "You can leave."
"No! They stay." Jack protested before she could even think about why.
"Ok." Shepard shrugged. "Do you want me to break my arm so you can see what Chakwas intends to do?"
The joke certainly drew Jack's attention.
At least, Jack assumed it must be a joke. It was a ridiculous suggestion. She scoffed, but then she seized upon the chance to make the dickheads responsible for her predicament squirm.
"Wouldn't it make more sense to do it to one of these assholes." She gestured behind her with her non broke-, sprain-, fucked, hand.
"Nobody is breaking healthy bones in my medbay!" Chakwas put her foot down. "However, since the commander is so eager to be a demo dummy, I'm sure she won't mind getting a scan so you can see it's nothing to worry about and I can see whatever she's trying to hide."
"How-..." Shepard exclaimed before breaking into a disgruntled sigh. "I'm not hiding anything doc, I was going to come see you after I finished giving Liara the tour."
The asari in question smiled at the human's half hearted grumbles and the ease with which Karin quickly got her way.
However the amusement was short lived as an orange glow passed over the spectre's body, successfully proving it was harmless to Jack and highlighting the injuries acquired on Illium.
A spark of guilt flashed at the memory of racing past the commander's crumpled body without a backward glance.
Liara smothered the feeling quickly, it had been the rational call. She had to stay on Vasir, it was just a little fall, Shepard had survived worse.
"I'm fine, thanks for asking." Translators never imported tone or emotion, and the scan painted a different picture to those muttered words.
"I didn't think you'd actually be hurt." Liara whispered as they finally left the medbay to continue the tour, the spectre stuffing a bottle of pills into her pocket.
"I fell several stories, of course I'd be injured." Shepard scoffed.
"Asari flare when falling to soften the blow, it's instinctive. In ancient times they'd throw children off cliffs to awaken biotic power."
"That's barbaric."
"I did say ancient times. Like I said, it's instinctive. I just-"
"Forgot that I'm not asari, or biotic?" Shepard bit out before grimacing, shaking her head with a sigh. "Look, forget it. I'm more interested in how Jack hurt her hand."
"Jack and Grunt were taking turns slapping eachother's hands." Liara's new roommate joined the conversation without warning.
"EDI!" Shepard admonished. "I know Chakwas explained to you about patient confidentiality."
"What happens in the medbay stays in the medbay." The AI recited. "However the slapping happened outside the medbay."
"Doesn't matter EDI." The commander continued to rebuke. "People still have a right to privacy. As long as there are no laws being broken and everybody involved in an activity is fully consenting then you don't need to tell me about it unless I specifically ask."
"You did ask." The AI pointed out.
"But I didn't ask you. It was a rhetorical question, speculation." I was just trying to end the previous conversation before I said something I'd regret. She turned back to the asari beside her with a groan. "How did I end up in the position of trying to teach an AI ethics?"
"Do you actually want an answer or is that another rhetorical question?"
………
A knock on her cabin door threatened to disturb the commander's concentration but she managed to avoid spilling any excess glue, carefully depositing the bottle back on her desk and focusing on perfectly lining up the two pieces of plastic smaller than her fingernail.
The tip of her tongue prodded against dry lips as she gently pressed the segments together, a soft exhale escaping as she deemed them correctly aligned and squeezed harder to secure the bond.
"Come in." She finally acknowledged the intrusion to her downtime, not bothering to turn round as the door swished open. Steady footsteps sounded across the deck, followed by a familiar voice:
"This is impressive."
"Hmm. The perks of private sector." She agreed, as she looked up to find Liara gazing curiously round the cabin. "You haven't had any problems with the crew have you?"
"No, no problems." The asari reassured. "Have you considered putting something in that fish tank?"
"There is something in the fish tank!" Shepard protested.
"What, water?"
"I was going to say hydrogen and oxygen but…" Her words trailed off but her grin remained, Liara shook her head fondly.
"You should get some fish. They're very calming, relaxing."
"Fish are boring." The commander refuted. "Besides… when would I find the time to look after them?"
"They hardly require walks or grooming."
"No, just daily feeding and weekly water changes. Pretty sure I'd kill them."
"A VI can handle feeding and you've found enough time for that haven't you?" Liara gave an all encompassing gesture to the modeling supplies on the table.
"Barely." Nikki snorted, she had far more models in boxes than there were completed and on display. "Besides, cleaning a fish tank sounds like a chore, this is enjoyable and relaxing."
"If you say so." Liara's lips twitched and there was clear amusement in her eyes.
"So, did you come up here for a reason or just to insult my hobbies?"
"No, I… I wanted to give you something."
Quick eyes alighted on a black velvet box in the asari's hand, not missing the suddenly nervous fiddling and the distinct lack of handing it over.
"Ok." Nikki prompted, gaze returning to Liara's face, head tilting slightly in curiosity as she read the subtle signs of uncertainty. Seconds ticked by in silent stillness before she offered: "We can always go back to insulting my hobbies if you prefer?"
"No… It took some digging, but…" Liara took a deep breath, steeling herself before finally passing the box across. Nikki accepted it gently, flipping the lid open to reveal a simple stainless steel chain holding both a familiar set of dogtags and an unassuming tungsten ring.
"I thought I'd never see these again." She breathed, eyes a swirl of emotions as they traced the subtle pattern engraved on her wedding ring.
"They changed hands more than once." Liara continued to babble. "Do you remember Admiral Hackett? He gave them to me so I could return them to you."
Shepard closed her eyes, previous emotions sliding off her suddenly stoney face as she expelled a huff of annoyance.
"Liara, stop lying to me."
"He-... what? What do you-"
"Do I remember Hackett?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. "Really? My wife's uncle? No, don't remember him at all."
"I…" Liara stuttered, cursing herself. She was an information broker damn it, it was like her subconscious wanted to be caught.
"Let's look at the facts shall we? I was wearing these when I died. You found my body and gave it to Cerberus. You even have some of my old armour on display in your apartment."
Liara winced and looked at the floor.
"Now you expect me to believe that Hackett somehow got his hands on these and instead of giving them to his niece, my wife, he gave them to a random teammate to give to me? There was no guarantee I'd even go back to Illium, while there's plenty of reasons for me to visit Trish."
Shepard suddenly realised her hands had curled into fists, her voice raised albeit not yet a full on shout.
She forcefully exhaled her frustrations and stretched out her fingers, but could do nothing to ease the tension now present in her shoulders.
She could hear the filtration system on the empty fish tank, the only sound in the cabin other than their breathing.
"Am I wrong?" She asked in a calm, quiet, simmering voice.
"I'm sorry." Was all Liara offered in defence.
Nikki wanted to snap at her. Shout at her to fuck off. Punch the bulkhead next to the asari's head to shock her out of that pathetic apathy.
Instead she regulated her breathing and counted to ten.
Then she tried again in a different language.
She wanted the old Liara back. Maybe not the nervous naivety of their early acquaintance, but one without the constant cloak of guilt and darkness. One who didn't tell lies and keep secrets.
She wanted to forgive her and she wanted to curse her. To hug her and to punch her.
She wanted to be able to trust her again.
To be able to have normal interactions without the background awkwardness of what had happened when she was dead.
Most of all she wanted things to stop being so damn complicated.
She was sure her life had been easier the first time round.
The soft clink of tungsten against steel drew her attention. She hadn't even realised she'd lifted the tags out of the box.
They should have been returned to Trish years ago.
That or remained lost forever.
No one else had a right to keep them.
Her fingers traced the faint grooves of her name and serial number, details permanently etched in her brain, moving on to the less familiar but no less welcome pattern on the newer addition to the chain.
It was one of those conversations she'd kept debating whether or not to bring up with Trish.
Do you have my ring? Should I get a new one? New new or a replica of the original? Make a big deal of it with some kind or recommitment ceremony or just a quiet purchase and pretend you were never widowed in the first place?
She'd been putting it off until after the suicide mission. No point widowing her wife twice after all.
She'd mostly assumed Trish would have said if she had it, but also considered the possibility that her wife was also waiting until after the suicide mission to avoid the risk of handing it over only to lose it forever.
She supposed this at least answered one of those questions.
She glanced up to find Liara still awkwardly standing there. She sighed, her anger drained away to exhaustion.
"Thank you. For returning them."
Fortunately the asari took that as her cue to leave, leaving the commander alone with a simple chain and much more complex emotions.
……..
"I'm going to kill him." Trish fumed almost as soon as the vid call connected. "Is it bad that I really want to kill him?"
"Who?" Nikki asked, running through a mental list of her partner's male colleagues along with anyone else Trish had complained about in the last few weeks.
For a split second she wondered if Liara hadn't been lying about Hackett and Trish had just found out.
"Your son!"
"What's he done this time?"
"What hasn't he done would be a better question."
"Ok, what hasn't he done this time?"
"He hasn't killed himself yet, despite his best efforts."
"And your wishes apparently."
Trish merely gave a wordless grunt.
"Has he burnt the house down?" Nikki asked in an effort to calm her wife and prove that whatever had happened wasn't that bad.
"Not yet." Trish grudgingly admitted.
"Has he broken all the windows?"
"Just the one window actually."
"Has he- wait, what?" Nikki was caught off guard. "How?"
"I don't even know. One minute he's spinning round in circles giggling, then all of a sudden something's flying towards me. I ducked, the window smashed."
"Sooo… what I'm hearing here is that it's your fault the window broke. If you hadn't moved-"
"Don't." Trish warned. "I don't need any of your damn jokes about this. Trust me, your son found the situation hilarious enough for the both of you."
Nikki snapped her mouth shut with an audible click. Grimacing as she reevaluated the conversation and tried to come up with a better approach.
"Are you alright?"
"Do I sound alright?"
"No, but… I meant physically. Are you physically alright, were you injured?"
"No, I'm not injured. I ducked, remember?"
"Right. Dare I ask if our son's alright?"
"I haven't murdered him yet if that's what you're implying. And I managed to stop him before he put any of the glass in his mouth."
Nikki winced at that mental image.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
She wasn't quite sure if this was a chocolates, flowers, or alcohol situation, but obviously she'd need to get something delivered to her wife. The real question was if there was anything else she could do from across the galaxy.
Perhaps she could find alcoholic chocolates in the shape of flowers.
Plus send some real flowers.
And more chocolate.
And several bottles of-
"Aside from provide me with an alibi when I kill him?" Trish's reply broke through her musings.
"You might need to wait until I'm at least in the same star system if you want an alibi."
"I'll try and wait that long."
"Hey, this hypothetical 'next time I'm in system', maybe instead of killing him I could just take him off your hands for a bit. Have him on the Normandy for a few weeks, give you a break."
"Nicky on the Normandy?" Trish snorted.
It wasn't a practical solution, they both knew that, but then again neither was actually murdering their child.
"We could install child gates. What's the worst that could happen?"
"With Nicholas?" Trish checked rhetorically. "Let's see... He could space himself, he could space your crew, he could overload the drive core, he could poison himself, he could poison your dextro teammates, he could poison your levo teammates, he could accidentally destroy a planet, he could deliberately destroy a planet, he could start a war, he could-"
She was interrupted by a grinning Nicola.
"You're so pessimistic, it'd be fine."
"Have you met your son?" Trish inquired with an incredulous eyebrow before expelling a world weary sigh. "Why did I ever think I wanted a child?"
"Hormones probably." Nick answered. "Usually it's hormones."
"Fucking hormones."
"Fucking hormones." The spectre agreed. "Speaking of fucking and hormones… Do you have any idea how hot you are when you're annoyed?"
"You're ridiculous."
"I am ridiculous. I'm also kinda turned on right now."
"That sounds like a you problem."
"True. If you're interested, I bet I could make it an us problem. With an us solution."
"Not today thanks, I'm still busy being angry."
"Have I mentioned how hot you are when you're angry?"
Trish laughed. Which was all Nikki wanted anyway. Well... she wouldn't say no to something more, she wasn't lying about how hot her wife was, but…
"I'm waiting on the glazier."
"What's their ETA because-"
"Nikki, I will hang up on you!"
"Fine, fine. Just make sure you get space specced windows this time. You know, the kind designed for impact with asteroids."
"That sounds expensive for something he'll find a way to break anyway."
"You think Nicholas can break space specced windows?"
"It's your son we're talking about, anything is possible."
"Technically I think you'll find he's our son."
"Genetically speaking I had nothing to do with it." Trish dismissed. "This is all your fault."
"I blame Ben, he was the sperm donor right?"
"Maybe we should check that. There could have been a mix up at the clinic and we have a genuine devil child."
"What, Satan sperm?"
"It would explain a few things."
"You know, I assumed the devilish good looks were from me."
Trish laughed, Nick smirked triumphantly. She was determined to get a hat trick before the call ended.
Alas her chances of achieving that were hampered by an alarm going off on her omni-tool.
"Fuck, I forgot about that."
"What is it? Do you need to go?" Trish asked, disappointment and understanding lacing together in her voice.
"No, I just got to do my stupid breathing exercises."
"Why do you have to do breathing exercises?" The understanding was suddenly suspiciously absent.
"Because Chakwas told me to."
"Nikki…" Trish's warning tone was unmistakable.
"Yes?"
"For fuck's sake! You know I'm not going to stop asking until I find out, so just fucking tell me already."
"Fine! I fell out a window and bruised my ribs. Happy?"
"You fell… What is it with Shepards and bloody windows this week?!"
"If it helps, technically my window incident happened last week."
"How would that help? And how the hell did you fall out a window? You're a grown ass woma- wait… Did you jump? Did you jump out a window and break your ribs?"
"They're not broken! They're just bruised." Nikki protested, conveniently ignoring the question of how exactly she traversed the window and also forgetting to mention being biotically kicked by an asari spectre on the way down.
"That's better is it?"
"Well, yes… Bruising is generally better than broken bones. There's a shorter recovery time for starters."
"I meant you got hurt and didn't tell me."
"I didn't see the point in worrying you. It'll heal before I see you again and it's not like you can kiss it better from however many relay jumps away."
"That's not the point, Nick. I'm your wife, you ought to tell me when you're hurt. How am I meant to reassure myself that you're probably fine if you don't tell me when you're not."
"But I am fine. Nothing's broken."
Trish actually growled.
"You clearly don't know the definition of the word. From now on I want you to tell me about every injury, no matter how minor you think it is or how fine you feel." She spat the hated word.
"What, even paper cuts?"
"Even paper cuts."
"I'll never have time to actually work." The spectre quipped thoughtlessly.
Unfortunately, instead of amusing her wife, it sent Trish's brain spiralling, wondering just how many injuries had been hidden from her.
"Nikki, take your top off."
"What?"
"I need to see that you're actually ok."
"It's internal bruising, there's nothing to see."
"I know that, Nick, but I can't trust what you say right now." The spectre winced at the condemnation. "So will you please take your top off so I can reassure my stupid brain."
"Ok, I may have lied to Chakwas."
Trish opened her mouth, anger and concern springing to her face, but Nikki kept going before she could speak.
"I told her it was much more fun when you tell me to strip, but now I'm not so sure."
"Idiot." Trish scoffed despite herself. "You actually said- no, I'm not even surprised. Of course you did."
Fortunately the soldier complied with her previous order, unzipping her N7 hoody to reveal nothing underneath.
Presumably 'fine' included hurting too much when raising the arms above the head to put on a t-shirt.
Trish's eyes skimmed across toned muscle, old scars and the familiar tattoo, searching for any new additions, relaxing slightly when everything appeared how she remembered.
"So…" Her half naked idiot interrupted. "Am I turning you on yet? My previous offer still stands."
"You're turning me grey is what you're doing. Between you and Nicholas… I swear I'll have grey hair before my next birthday."
There was silence on the other side of the call, her soldier just looking at her.
"What?"
"I'm imagining you with grey hair."
"Just wait a few months and you won't need to imagine it. I'm too young to go grey." Trish lamented.
"My dad went grey early."
"I'm not surprised, he had to raise you. Besides, it's different for men. I might have to invest in some hair dye."
"Chakwas has grey hair."
"Another person who has to deal with you on a regular basis. I'm sensing a theme."
"Shut up, she was grey before she met me."
"She must have had a premonition."
"My point is, going grey's not the end of the world. You'll still be hot."
"Oh I see, it's all coming out now."
"What?"
"You gifting Chakwas bottles of brandy, her ordering you to strip, you finding grey hair attractive…" Trish was unable to keep the grin off her face and Nikki was just glad they were back to teasing.
"Hey! I'm in a committed and happy relationship, thank you very much."
"Clearly, but who with?"
"I'm sorry babe, the heart wants what the heart wants."
"Mhmm."
"That's you by the way." Nick clarified, just in case.
"And that's the glazier." Trish responded as the doorbell rang with impeccable timing. "It bloody better be anyway."
"I better let you go then. Love you."
"Love you too, god knows why. COMING!" She shouted as she stood to make her way to the door, causing Shepard to smirk.
"So many comments, so little time."
"Shut it you."
"Don't forget to ask about space spec windows!"
"I'll have to if I need to stop you jumping out of them as well."
"It was one time." Nikki huffed.
"It bloody better just be the one time. You're supposed to be careful."
"I am careful." The soldier tried to claim despite evidence to the contrary visible across her torso.
"Clearly." Trish deadpanned, eyes flicking pointedly over the multitude of scars. "Be more careful. And call me tomorrow."
"Will do. Love you."
"Love you too."
The screen went black and Nikki sat there in silence, smiling as she ran the conversation back through her head.
She pulled her hoody back on, brain not even registering the slight tug of pain that made her face wince.
However she made another grimace as her mental replay reached a particular point and she pulled the extranet up on her omni-tool, she needed to find flower shaped alcoholic chocolates and possibly some other grovelling presents as well.
She went through several websites before she remembered… she had to do her stupid breathing exercises.