Jane walked into her apartment on Earth, you following close behind. The door auto-locked with a soft click. She sank onto the living room couch, shrugging off her N7 hoodie and tossing it aside, now clad in just a black tank top and pants. "I warned you my mother would be a handful," Shepard said, a wry smile tugging at her lips.

You chuckled. "She’s... spirited. I can see where the legendary Commander Shepard got her heart and sense of justice from."

Jane shook her head, a playful glint in her eyes. "Keep that up, and you’re sleeping on the couch tonight." You grinned, offering a mock salute. "Aye aye, Commander."

She rolled her eyes and motioned for you to sit beside her. "Retired, remember? No more 'Commander,' please." She leaned into you, resting her head on your chest with a contented sigh. After a moment of comfortable silence, she murmured, "Funny..."

"What is?" you asked, curious.

Jane smirked, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your chest. "Hannah Shepard never approved of any of my past relationships. But you... you’ve somehow managed to charm her. Must be that scoundrel charm of yours."

You laughed softly. "What can I say? I’m irresistibly charming. After all, I did win over the greatest and hottest specter in the galaxy." She groaned, pushing herself off your chest and playfully swatting your shoulder. "That’s it—you’re definitely sleeping on the couch."

You both laughed, the sound echoing warmly through the room. But as the laughter faded, Shepard’s expression grew more serious. "I never liked the idea of being a hero—of everyone looking up to me. Fame was never the goal."

Her gaze drifted away, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. "Before Anderson died... he told me any kid would be proud to have Commander Shepard as their mother."

She smiled, but it was tinged with sadness—a bittersweet expression that spoke of loss and the weight of the legacy she carried.