TITLE: The Highwayman

PART 1

AN: April 11 2154 Happy Birthday, Commander Shepard! Please don't stop reading after at part one. An AU story reflecting the song, "The Highwayman." Thank you for stopping by.

"I was a highwayman.

Along the coach roads I did ride

With sword and pistol by my side

Many a young maid lost her baubles to my trade

Many a soldier shed his lifeblood on my blade

The bastards hung me in the spring of twenty-five But I am still alive."

Lyrics by Jimmy Web, The Highwayman

1724, England

The Normandy is an inn, like many inns dotting the main road through England, with smoky public rooms, whores, cutpurses, and mediocre food. Its claim to fame and the reason its rooms were always full is the infamous John Shepard. A highwayman of the highest order, he neither molested the young ladies nor humiliated the men. Although he might admit to allowing a finger or two to stray across a beautiful bosom when he lifted a bauble from a delicate creamy throat, he'd never actually killed anyone.

Darkly handsome with sunlit blue eyes and dark hair, which hung in curly disarray to his shoulders, he had no need of the usual wig so popular now. Never foppishly attired, the clinging breeches, knee-high boots, and black jacket hung well on his tall muscular frame. His only real claim to vanity was his cravat. Always perfectly tied and clean it showed off his chiseled features and square jaw to perfection.

After a profitable day's work, Shepard might treat his men to a bottle or two of expensive wine and the prettiest, therefore equally expensive, whores. That's why his men loved him, the ladies swooned over the mere mention of his name, and travelers boasted John Shepard had robbed them.

Almost every evening, when they weren't hiding out or chased by His Majesty's Musketeers, John Shepard and his crew settled into the Normandy for a few hours of cards or dice. This evening, John, wasn't interested with the usual games and went to sit by the fireplace to enjoy a cup of fresh mead. The serving wench who brought it to him was new. He never forgot a face and this one is exotically beautiful. So different, so refreshing he couldn't take his eyes off her.

"What's your name, lass?" John Shepard asked while he pulled the young barmaid to his lap and wrapped his strong arms around her trim waist. She was young and by the color flooding her cheeks still a stranger to a man's touch. He loved them like this, innocent, still pretty and free of the pox scars or rotten teeth which plagued so many beauties.

Her face showed no trace of disease and her hair was luxurious and black as night. Pulling off her mobcap, he ran his fingers into her hair. Surprisingly, it was clean and smelled of lavender. Life would take all of that away from her and very quickly.

"You're a pretty thing. What's your name?"

"Tali, sir. I-It's Tali," she stuttered, but there was courage in her eyes, he'd give her that too.

"What's a lovely girl with such a strange name doing in such a dangerous place?"

"I kin take care of myself, sir. I only work here because my Ma and Pa died of the plague. They took the farm from me and everything else with it. Besides, you don't look so dangerous."

Shepard pulled her head down and whispered, "You should be afraid of me, love. I'm the notorious highwayman, John Shepard."

"What's that to me? Cain't never leave here anyway, so you won't be meeting me out on the road. You're a handsome one I'll grant you that." She slid off his lap and walked away, shaking her skirt out just enough to keep his eyes on her charms.

He watched her serve the other customers. She cleverly stayed just out of reach of their dirty pawing hands. Never bending over to immodestly display her bosom. Yet, always a smile or a saucy remark to keep them interested and ordering more drink. It occurred to him this girl was different, almost special in a way he hadn't seen before. He wanted to know more about that farm and her family.

Shepard turned his head toward his crew, watching them fondly for a moment. Garrus and Grunt were having their usual argument about who was cheating whom. While they argued, James slid coins from the pot into his pocket.

The single female in their group is a wickedly beautiful woman dressed in men's clothes. She's studying her face in a mirror and applying her already loud and colorful makeup. John found her obvious and vulgar, but she was good in a fight and when they needed a female, she cleaned up well. No man, or woman could resist her porcelain complexion or the mass of ebon hair and full breasts. Miranda played the virgin or harlot with equal skill, which made her a valuable member of his crew.

And there was Kaidan, he could sneak up on you, cut your throat and your pocket without missing a bible verse. While the others fought good naturedly, Kaidan reads aloud from his well-thumbed copy of The Christian Bible. The handsome, although pious to a fault, young man is reading from The Book of Revelation tonight. Something about four horseman, but John is bored with all of it and continues to watch the young maid go about her duties.

His boredom and her uniqueness, kept him standing outside the inn long after his crew had climbed into their bed rolls. All but Kaidan were sleeping alone tonight. The young man had once again convinced the cleanest prettiest whore in the place that he was a virgin in need of a wise woman to teach him the ways of love. With his big brown eyes, innocent face and his bible, the ruse always worked and he always got laid for free.

Finally, she walked out of the inn. John watched her from the shadows.

"Good evening, Mistress Tali."

"Good evening, Jo…"

There's a good girl, he thought. She didn't say my name out loud here in the yard, where anyone might be about and listening.

Shepard drew arm through and when she didn't resist. He ventured, "May I walk you home?"

They were easy with each other and spoke freely. By the time they reached the small stone structure, she claimed was her home, he knew all about her.

"So the local priest claims you can't have your farm back unless you're a married woman. Then, of course, the title would go to your husband."

"That is the way of it."

John shook his head in disbelief. he was of the opinion the church held far too much power over the local citizenry in these small villages. Then the sheriff steps in a collects his cut. They were probably squabbling over who would get her family's farm right now.

Before he said goodnight and watched her close the crooked wooden door he kissed her hand.

On the second night, he pressed his lips against hers. They stayed locked in that embrace all night, whispering words of affection and trust. He left her only when Garrus came to find him.

On the third night he proposed to her and she accepted.

By the end of a fortnight, they reclaimed her family's land. Before they left the parish office, John had made them agree that if anything happened to him, their children would inherit the land. With a satisfied heart and a smile on his face, John Shepard took his wife home. First task, get the potatoes into the ground, second task, fill her with babies.

John Shepard found happiness and fulfillment working the little farm. Garrus took over the gang and Shepard occasionally heard stories about their exploits. Although he didn't agree with the way Garrus ran the gang, he was happy to be out of it and wished them well.

Feeling wealthy, prosperous and happy riding into the village in their new wagon, Tali and Shepard rode close together, laughing and flirting about the secret things only lovers know. She's six months gone with child and they are discussing what to name him, because of course it will be a boy.

Shepard was good at carving and making small things out of wood. A box of wooden toys sat in the back of the wagon. With the toys and other items John created, they could barter for other things they needed.

The wagon hit a rut and Tali reached behind her to support her lower back. The midwife assured her it was perfectly natural. But as she reached around, a flash of sunlight on metal caught her eye. A horse hidden in the trees stamped and snorted.

"John, men in the trees!"

"I see them, lass. The King's men by the look of 'em."

With a heavy heart, John pulled the wagon to a halt and took Tali's hand and slid the other around her waist.

"Why did you stop. Run!"

"No, Tali. Listen to me. I'll do nothing that will bring harm to you or our child. No matter what happens, I love you. These past months have been the best in my life. Now, quickly tell me what you'll do now.

The men were pulling him from the wagon.

They laughed as they locked him in shackles, "Guess whot they say is true, eh Shepard? No honor among thieves? That lad Garrus of yours rolled over on you proper he did. Made it real easy for us to find you."

John didn't resist, but one of the hit him with the butt of his musket. Blood is dripping from his nose and the wound on the side of his head. He's barely conscious.

"Tali! Quickly!"

"John! I promise. I promise to take care of our child and my love for you will live on in my heart and the memories of our child."

~O~

His wife was in the front row of the excited crowd the day they hung John Shepard. Vendors strolled through the crowd hawking meat pies and ale.

Hours went by, until finally a side door opened and out came four guards and John Shepard. His once glossy locks shorn from his head, his clothes filthy and torn. The left side of his face bruised and swollen.

When he reached the top of the scaffold his eyes searched for her. When she knew that he saw her, Tali opened her shawl and pulled a sleeping child from her breast. Then lifting the little boy up so his father could see him. She called out, "He's a fine healthy boy, John."

Tali and John held eye contact until the lever released and John Shepard, the famous highwayman and beloved husband was no more.

A scream tore itself from Tali's throat and she fell to her knees.

The Highwayman

I was a highwayman. Along the coach roads I did ride
With sword and pistol by my side
Many a young maid lost her baubles to my trade
Many a soldier shed his lifeblood on my blade
The bastards hung me in the spring of twenty-five
But I am still alive.

I was a sailor. I was born upon the tide
And with the sea I did abide.
I sailed a schooner round the Horn to Mexico
I went aloft and furled the mainsail in a blow
And when the yards broke off they said that I got killed
But I am living still.

I was a dam builder across the river deep and wide
Where steel and water did collide
A place called Boulder on the wild Colorado
I slipped and fell into the wet concrete below
They buried me in that great tomb that knows no sound
But I am still around..I'll always be around..and around and around and around and around

I fly a starship across the Universe divide
And when I reach the other side
I'll find a place to rest my spirit if I can
Perhaps I may become a highwayman again
Or I may simply be a single drop of rain
But I will remain
And I'll be back again, and again and again and again and again..