(this is my comfort zone don't judge me)

Though heavily pregnant, you never stopped being a soldier. Once part of the Normandy and eager to go back to it, your senses were always at one hundred percent and even now that there was a bun in the oven.

The walk through the Citadel on the way to Huerta Memorial Hospital was calm and quiet, eager to get some new ultrasounds to show off once the Normandy docks once more.

But a little buzz, a little high pitch in your ears made you twitch. Someone was looking at you, you just had to be collected.

The steps you gave mixing with the steps of someone in your 6's. 9's. Giving a turn to one alley, you pulled your gun. To see the drell who sired your little bun.

"A warm welcome" he spoke with a low tone.