Right, another FemShep&Garrus story? Yes! There can never be too many of those, if you ask me... This one will follow the events in ME2 although not obediently (taking artistic liberties at times), perhaps jumping at times to ME1 happenings since it isn't in chronological order always, and even beyond ME2 eventually. I try to keep characters as IC as possible, of course within my interpretation of what's IC for them.

Please read & review! I love feedback... Critique welcome too, also harsh critique! Just... make it constructive and not like "lol your story sucks" or "I hate your Shepard", but give me something to work on! It is my first fanfic, English isn't my native tongue and I don't have a beta, so if you notice any inconsistencies, feel free to point them out and I will correct them.

There will be language and smutty smexiness of varying degrees throughout the fic, so if you don't like that, leave now. (but since you are browsing the M section, I guess that's what you came looking for, anyway...)

Anyway! Enjoy, and R&R!


Chapter 1

She turned off the shower, stepping out of the pool of water formed at her feet and reached for a towel placed on the nearby sink. It was coarse against her skin, thinned and worn out from the rough chemical washing used aboard to save water. She made a mental note to add 'fluffy towels' to the requisitions list for their next trip to Illium. Life on a military vessel didn't allow many luxuries, but she could have her small everyday comforts, such as new towels every now and then. She hung the towel to dry and stepped out of the bathroom, leaving moist footprints in her wake as she made it to the locker. Grabbing a large-sized men's military issue t-shirt to wear for the night, she then settled under the sheets of her comfy double bed. Cerberus sure knew the value of a good mattress in keeping the crew well rested and ready for action.

"Cabin lights at 5 percent, bedside lights at 50 percent." After a small pause, she added "Open the ceiling shutters."

As the lighting adjusted to her preferences, she reached out to the bedside table and shuffled through a small pile of datapads. Report from Miranda, another from Kasumi. Those could be dealt with tomorrow, right now Shepard wanted something to take her mind off the missions at hand. Such as the books she had picked up from Fables of the Far Rim, an asari-ran bookstore at the Citadel that specialised in literature of all sorts from the all known sentient species of the galaxy. The shopkeeper Yirina had praised Earth's fascinating mythologies to no ends, and had almost forgotten to charge Shepard for her purchase. Eventually, she had managed to depart the store possessing a datapad loaded with two famous turian classics. On Tactical Warfare, by General Gladius Pacitum and Captain Valea Pacitum, according to the introductory text 'a must-read for every rookie in the turian military', this textbook was originally written 692 CE and revised 815 CE by the general's granddaughter, after the Krogan Rebellion had been put to an end. This volume didn't tickle Shepard's curiosity at the moment, though, so she clicked open the next item on the datapad. The Good Household - How To Make It Work With Your New Clan, a title intended for young and confused turian maidens of Palaven trying to find a husband or planning their new lives with a husband of their choosing, or of their parents' choosing. It wasn't exactly what she had been looking for, but given relationships to other species weren't particularly appreciated by many powerful turian clans, most disowning any youths unfortunate enough to fall in love with an asari, let alone a human, it wasn't like she had a huge selection of advice books to choose from. It would have to do, she didn't have time to wade through all the extranet search results, either, to filter the endless porn from genuine advice. Not that the porn was useless, of course, it just didn't meet all her requirements for advice.

Shepard flipped open the index page and glanced over it. 'Pre-marital relationships', 'Courting a possible mate', 'Acquiring parental and clan approval' (this chapter was 200 pages long, Shepard noted), 'Financial arrangements', 'Arranged marriages' (another 150 pages), 'Xenophiliac affairs' (just five pages)... She decided to save the worst for later and picked the chapter on pre-marital relationships. It confirmed what she heard from Garrus previously, purely sexual affairs were commonplace for both male and female turians when in service and not frowned upon at all. Falling in love with a crewmate, however, wasn't approved of, but exceptions happened all the time. It could work out if both families and clans found the relationship beneficial. Arrangements for marriage would be done as soon as agreement was reached, and the relationship would be made official as soon as both the bride and the groom were out of mandatory military service. If the clans didn't fancy the bride or groom to-be, the two lovers would be separated and sent off to serve in different units for the remaining time of their service. Shepard learnt, that the clans could hold this sort of power over the personal affairs of turian adults until they were recognised as full citizens... which could be until their 30th birthday. She felt sorry for Garrus, who had mentioned the pressure his father put on him many times regarding career choices, but then thought perhaps most turians felt differently about their customs. Perhaps they were content and happy with the tradition, since not too many had made the decision to rebel against it even after the floodgates to foreign, more liberal cultural influences had been opened. Most humans, too, preferred to live in human colonies and follow their own traditions instead of embracing foreign cultures with open arms.

Well, not that it matters, anyway... I doubt he has any great desires to go back to his father and clan. Not after all that's happened.

She flipped back to the index and chose the chapter she dreaded to read. She wasn't surprised to read that affairs outside the turian species were not approved of at all by most, but were regarded as perversions and anyone falling for a non-turian was considered a deviant at best and mentally disturbed at worst. No wonder the turians she had noticed displaying interest in other species tended to look like outsiders. Well... except for that old geezer at the Citadel, but he probably had enough power to shut down any commentators.

She sighed and put the datapad back on the table, and ordered the lights down. This wasn't as useful as she had hoped, none of it applied to her current situation with a certain turian. Time to sleep, she'd have to be up and running at 0700 hours. Wrapping the blanket around her tighter, she gazed out of the ceiling window at the passing stars trying not to think of anything in particular, until her lids closed and she drifted away to sweet oblivion...

She walked up to the main battery, waiting outside the door for a moment before entering. Garrus was seated on top of the console, dressed in casual clothing, holding two glasses of what looked like champagne (but surely was an imitation).

"Hey, glad you came by. Have you got a minute?"

Shepard's lip curled in a half-smirk, and she turned to close and lock the battery door to prevent any interruptions. She turned to meet the turian's intent gaze, but couldn't help a glance down at his naked chest plates that shimmered a coppery sheen in the red light of the battery ('whatever happened to his clothes?'), down his toned, muscular abdomen, down to his... spiky... no, thorned rose? Her eyes darted back up, to see him now standing in front of Shepard, holding a giant rose covering his shaft, mandibles flared wide in what Shepard recognised as a grin, and he winked at her. He put his right arm around her shoulder and turned them to look over the balcony in front of them ('where am I again?'), motioning to the vast fields of green below and tropical forests in the horizon. The air was filled with smells of fruits and grass and animal sounds she couldn't recognise and strange music playing somewhere in the village...

"Look at it. Isn't it beautiful? There's nothing like home." Garrus interrupted her daydreaming.

"It is, yeah. Not that different from Earth, from what I've seen in vids. Except it's warmer here and the vegetation looks a bit weird, of course..."

"Look over there", he said proudly, pointing at what looked like a construction site at an early stage a couple of hundred metres away, "My father already ordered the construction of our home to begin. We will discuss the details of decoration and room layout with him tomorrow."

She smiled up at him and his hand came up to caress her silvery mandibles ('well this is new') before he pressed his forehead to hers affectionately. Shepard's manicured claws sneaked up to caress his fringe and he let out a deep growl, snatching her up in his arms and turning to drop her on the bed ('where did the fields go?'). She growled back, mandibles wide, as he pushed her down on her back and straddled her, all the while caressing her waist and chest, working his way up to her fringe. She closed her eyes as he ran a clawed finger along the fresh tattoos on her face.

"My clan's tattoos complement your own beautifully, did you know that?"

Shepard didn't find an answer, but settled for purring contently as his hands touched her all over. Her own hands were busy with Garrus' waist, pulling down his pants. She opened her eyes again to look at her mate, only to scream out in horror as she was faced with the gleaming blue, but empty eyes of a turian husk. She struggled and pushed the husk off her, frantically looking for her shotgun. She was standing at the Council Chambers, naked and without a gun, a hundred Garrus-husks approaching from every direction.

"Join me", me... me... me... me... me... the echo rang around the hall a hundred times. She fell into a combat stance and braced herself for impact, failing to figure a way out. She was going to go down fighting. The husks approached fast, one already grabbing Shepard by the arm, another reaching for her leg...

She jumped up to sit in her bed with a deep gasp, covered in cold sweat. She looked around her cabin wildly, fists swinging at any husks nearby for five seconds, until she realised she was still in the comfort of her own bed and there were no husks (and no Garrus, for that matter) anywhere nearby. Falling back on the bed, she sighed, grabbed a pillow and wiped her forehead on it. Hiding underneath the pillow for a moment just breathing, she finally got up and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Cabin lights 75%. EDI, what's the time?"

"Six thirty-seven AM, Shepard."

"Right. Thanks, EDI. Oh, can you turn on the coffee machine in the canteen? Two cups, I'll be there in 15 minutes."

"Certainly, Shepard. Logging you out" EDI replied after a moment's pause.

She got up and walked to the bathroom to splash her face with cold water and brush her teeth. Shepard gazed at her reflection in the mirror and ran her hands through her short hair, untangling the biggest knots that she had managed to form trashing around in her sleep. Her casual suit was where she left it last night, in a messy pile on her office chair. She quickly pulled on the black pants and white shirt, and sat down to close the clasps of her boots.

She was in the mess hall in 10 minutes, blankly staring at the coffee machine that would take a few more minutes to brew her a steaming cup of precious elixir of life. It was going to be a long day.