It was a normal day. I woke up in the middle of the morning and searched for something to eat, rubbing my tired eyes. Ate breakfast. Went to work. Came back home exhausted and tired, stripping my clothes off and falling into my bed. It was the routine I've known for years. It's what I was used to. Nothing strange had happened that particular day, and the vague, fatigued memory of thrashing around in my blankets to find the perfect spot on the mattress to curl up on was present in the back of my mind.

Imagine my surprise at waking up nude on a couch with just a blanket thrown over me and an unfamiliar pair of eyes on me.

Luckily I was not very self-conscious about my body, but being the only naked person in the room had caused me to pull the blanket tightly around myself as I sat up.

"Uh, are you okay?" the man in front of me asked, his brow wrinkled.

He looked in his late twenties, with a buzz-cut and light brown eyes. He needed a shave, but otherwise he wasn't bad looking. He wore red and black armor that read "N7" just below the shoulder.

"Ugh. How much did I drink last night? I seriously don't remember any..." I trailed off as I spotted the alien, standing six-foot-something behind Beard Guy. His mouth pieces moved a little bit when he saw me staring. He was wearing armor too.

"Oh. It's Halloween already? That explains the alcohol." I looked pointedly at Alien Guy. "No offense, but your Alien costume kinda sucks. It's really detailed, just doesn't look quite right. The head piece is supposed to be a lot longer than that. Where did you buy it?"

Beard Guy looked back at Alien Guy and they exchanged a shrug. I stared at them both warily before it hit me.

"Oh, hell no. Just because I have the red hair does not mean I'll be Sigourney Weaver. Screw you guys. Who are you, anyway? Travis' friends?"

I stood up, sheet still covering me, and walked over to poke Alien Guy in the face.

"Travis, is that you in there? The costume's actually pretty cool, but I still don't think it looks like Alien. Did you order it online or something? Holy shit, are those fake teeth?"

I was in the process of tugging on the dangling antennae things on the side of Alien Guy's mouth when he stammered around my hands, "Sh-Shepard, what is she - ow - doing?"

Beard Guy just stared at us with his eyes all wide. Creepy.

"Okay, fine," I sighed, releasing the surprisingly realistic mask. "I'm in. Where's my Sigourney Weaver costume? I wish you guys would have woken me up so I could put my clothes on before you kidnapped me. Just because it's Halloween doesn't mean you get to act like jerks."

"Kidnapped you?" Beard Guy repeated, his eyebrows shooting up. "We found you stark naked and comatose in a geth base. We ran out of room in our med-bay because a lot of my crew took a lot of damage trying to get you out of there safely. We couldn't just leave you there to die. Then you wake up, talking nonsense about some ancient holiday and saying we kidnapped you? I don't even understand half of what you're saying. Also, please don't assault my men anymore. I don't know much about turian culture, but I'm pretty sure you just made Garrus feel very uncomfortable. What colony did you come from, anyway?"

I stared at him. What the hell was he talking about?

"What is geth? You guys aren't Travis' friends, are you?"

He shook his head slowly, and I began to worry.

"Where are we? I'd like to go home now. I'm probably late for work, so..."

I went to the window and drew the shades to get an idea of what time of day it was, but froze at the sight. Total darkness except for the stars. We were in space? No way. That wasn't even possible.

"This has got to be the creepiest, worst prank in the history of the world. I want to go home. Now."

I said it in the firmest voice I could manage, and the two exchanged a worried look.

"Just tell us where your home is," Alien Guy reasoned. He was using some sort of voice harmonizer, I noticed.

"Los Angeles."

I wasn't sure why I told them the city instead of the street name. Maybe it was because I didn't want them to be able to find my house. In fact, I'd just walk home or take a cab. These guys were starting to freak me out.

"But what planet?" Alien Guy asked patiently.

"No. Fuck you. I'm not playing this sick game."

I stormed out of the room, trying to hide the fact that I was getting a bit scared. Who knew what these weirdos were planning to do to me - or had already done to me? I was already naked, after all. My skin crawled at the thought. Maybe I should move out of L.A., I thought to myself. Too many perverts around.

Outside of the room was a hallway with lots of doors. I chose the path that curved to the right, trying to find the nearest exit. This was a house, right? Or some sort of office building?

I almost ran straight into the black-haired woman before me.

"Sorry," we both said automatically, then stared at each other.

"Well, I'm glad you're finally awake! Shepard just sent a message to my omni-tool, so I was headed this way to bring you a change of clothes. My name is Miranda."

She handed me the outfit.

"Er - thanks, but I was just leaving. Maybe you could show me the way out."

She stared at me, putting a concerned hand on my forehead.

"Nope, no fever. Dear, do you know where you are?"

"No, I have no idea. I'm just trying to get back to my house. You seem nice, but honestly, you're all scaring the hell out of me."

"Well, I'd be happy to brief you, then. You're on the Normandy SR-2. We're in Alliance space. Where is your colony? We'll take you home right away."

"I live in Los Angeles, just drop me off anywhere and I - did you seriously just say space?"

The woman nodded slowly at me. "Los Angeles is on Earth, right? There's a Mass Relay nearby, so we can have you back there in a few hours."

I took a deep breath.

"Okay. Let's say for just a second that I was going to play along. Alright, we're in space. Fine, you're going to take me home. But what is the point of all this? Why are you trying to convince me we're not on Earth? Did Travis put you up to this? Am I on one of those hidden-camera shows right now?"

"I think we should get you to the med-bay," she murmured, gently pulling my arm.

"No! I want to leave. Let me go home!"

I pulled my arm out of her grip.

"Chakwas! I need you out here!" she yelled nervously.

The woman who had called herself Miranda made no move to touch me again, but she was giving me a strange look. A door slid open somewhere behind me and a woman of around fifty emerged, her eyes focusing on me quickly. Quite the sight I made in only the damn blanket.

"Ah! I see our guest is awake. What seems to be the problem, Miranda?"

"She needs a psych evaluation immediately. I don't think she understands that we're in space. Maybe some sort of post-traumatic stress disorder, or amnesia even?"

"Right this way," the older woman gestured for me to follow her.

I shook my head. I knew my eyes were giving me away, that I was scared out of my wits, but I was beyond caring.

Beard Guy emerged from the room I'd come from and stared at all of us, as if the situation hadn't been weird enough.

"Commander, the poor thing is terrified. She has no idea where we are. I asked Chakwas to give her a psych evaluation."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Alright. Just do whatever she wants, within reason. Maybe let her put some clothes on? I'm sure she can't feel comfortable being naked in the middle of the mess hall."

"Is that what you'd like, dear?" Miranda asked gently. "To put some clothes on?"

I nodded gravely.

"Will you come with me to my office so you can get dressed?"

I nodded again, and followed her mutely to a room close by where she shut the door behind us and turned around to let me dress in the clothes I was still holding.

"Sorry we didn't have any hospital gowns," she apologized. "We aren't exactly accustomed to having guests on board."

"So assuming all this is real... How did I not know about it until now? Is NASA relocating people to other planets in secret?"

"NASA?" Miranda frowned, still facing the wall. "That sounds familiar. What is it?"

I gaped at her. "How do you not know what NASA is? It's the United States' space administration. You know, they send rockets into space. Fifty years ago they sent the first man to walk on the moon. They've made a lot of progress since then, but moving people to other planets seems... Unlikely."

She whirled around to stare at me. "Fifty years? It's been over two hundred years since Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. It's 2185."

"That's not..." I trailed off. She seemed as surprised as I felt. "Okay, maybe it's not you people who have the problem. There's definitely something wrong with me. I think I'm ready for that psych evaluation now."

"Good idea," Miranda muttered. "If you think it's 2019, there's definitely more going on in that head than a little PTSD."

"2013," I corrected automatically.

"Yeah, okay, just... follow me, dear."

She sounded patronizing, but I didn't really mind at the moment. I had a lot bigger things to worry about.

As we walked through the hallways, I caught sight of my reflection in the windows with the grey, form-fitting jumpsuit bearing a logo that said "Cerberus," and hot damn if I didn't look just like Sigourney Weaver after all.