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His leg was stiff. He was perfectly content to blame it on the miles of snow that had seemingly appeared overnight. Also the coffee was cold. And the blankets weren’t quite soft enough. Truthfully, Shepard was just bored.
Retirement sounded all well and good until you were there. It wasn’t all vacations and lounging about in your pajamas. Well, there was a bit about lounging about in your pajamas, but not snuggled up to a warm body drinking beer. Especially when said warm body refused to also retire.
It was Christmas Eve, but it wasn’t like the batarians gave a rat's-ass whether or not there was a holiday on Earth that involved copious amounts of cookies, presents, alcohol, and warm fires. No, it was all about trade-negotiations and “we swear we didn’t kidnap that high ranking official’s daughter” (they did, Shepard saw the report, they totally did. Although he was pretty sure the girl went rather willingly, something about the situation didn’t add up. Not that his opinion meant much, Hackett would have his hide if he knew Kaidan had left the classified report open. Or...more appropriately: he'd hacked it, because he was bored. There was a lot of being bored, lately.)
Which all simmered down to Shepard sitting on the couch, cold coffee in hand, trying to massage his own knee through a not-quite-soft-enough blanket, looking at a lonely, blinking, tree.
Most of the ornaments were from Kaidan's mother; they had been carefully wrapped in tissue paper and sent over that first Christmas with strict instructions to put them up together. Always. Shepard grinned at the thought, most of his life had been a conglomeration of running. Running from someone, something, or, eventually, to something, someone. There hadn’t been time for Christmas trees and ornament hanging. That had been a pleasant change of pace. (He was especially fond of the ornaments their friends started sending. Especially the alien ones. The handmade thresher maw from Grunt was a particular favorite.)
He was about half way to falling asleep, the coffee mug abandoned on the table in front of him, when the chime of his omni-tool went off. It jolted him almost straight into standing position, staring around frantically before he realized what had happened.
Grumbling, slouching back against the plush cushion, he activated it only to immediately sit up again, spine ramrod straight, old habits having him salute. “General Coats.”
"Shepard." The scarred face looked entirely serious. Shit.
"What can I do for you."
"We have a situation, Shepard."
"A situation?" He refused to let it show, schooling his face into a neutral position, but his nerves were on edge, if something had happened to Kaidan…
"It appears you’ve damaged valuable Alliance property, Shepard."
That was not what he was expecting. There was a flicker across his face that said as much, wondering if Coats was pulling the mickey, but the look on his face implied it was Beyond Serious. “Sir?” He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been on a base. Had Kaidan brought something home? Had James or Steve left something behind at the Christmas party?
"At fifteen hundred hours the Major reported for duty aboard the SSV Ishimura with visible bruising above the collar. We advise against any further damage to Alliance property, hitherto."
Shepard blinked. “What?”
"You defaced government property Shepard. Don’t do it again." Coats still looked as serious as ever, his hard face set in a harder line.
"I- You’re serious."
"Quite."
Shepard wasn’t sure if he should laugh or feel scolded. The Alliance literally called him to tell him not to give his husband a hickey. With Coats’ face still as stoic as ever.
"Right. Well... Warning received General."
There was a pause and then he heard familiar laughing ring over the audio and Coats’ stone-faced mask cracked, the harsh line of thin lips twisting into a grin. A slighter man appeared on the screen, throwing an arm around the other.
"Heeey Shepard!"
"Joker." He couldn’t fight the own tugging at his mouth, the tightness in his chest finally easing.
"I told you two not too-" The deep husky voice of ‘Alliance Property’ filled the space though he couldn’t see his face. Shepard’s mouth finally lost its battle, twisting into its own smirk.
"ShhshhShhhhhshhhhShhhhhhhhhhhh." Joker’s hand waved at presumably the man just beyond the screen, as if the action would somehow reiterate the enthusiastic shushing.
Shepard laughed. “Kaidan.”
"John." His voice was deeper, something more like affection crinkled at the corners of his eyes, rather than the amusement the other two sported as he stepped into view. He pushed Joker gently, making room for himself on the small screen, nearly forcing himself closer to the camera. "They’re a bit drunk, and Joker thought it would be hilarious."
"It was something." His eyes lingered for a moment on the dark spot on his collar, the reason behind the whole strange call. Kaidan’s hand reached up to press a finger against it when he noticed where Shepard was looking. A smirk crossed his lips.
“How’s the leg?”
“It’s snowing,” as if giving the current precipitation was answer enough.
Apparently it was, Kaidan’s expression going sympathetic. “There should be some anti-inflammatories--”
“How’s space?” Shepard cut off his husband with ease, not missing the look he was given in return. The ‘I know what you’re doing but I’m going to let you get away with it’ look.
“Space is fine.” A pause, “hey, what time is it there?"
His head turned to look at the clock on the mantel. "00:04"
There was a soft smile. “Happy Christmas, John.”
"Merry Christmas Kaidan."