Councilor Anderson, decorated in a navy blue suit and tie, reclined in his chair and pulled the mug of coffee to his face. He took a long inhale of its aroma, letting the heat bring life to his weary expression.

He looked over his shoulder towards the hotel room's balcony. The skies of London were a thick layer of clouds, and not a shred of sunlight could pierce through.

Still watching, he took a sip, then released a winded sigh. His head bowed as he dragged is fingers across his forehead, gazing now at his reflection in the mug.

"Councilor Anderson," a man called behind the door.

Again he released a sigh, and began shaking his head. "Yes, what is it?"

"Garrus Vakarian is here to see you, sir."

"Oh, right," he murmured. "Send him in."

Garrus entered the room, wearing a greyish blue shirt, and a small black jacket a few inches above his waistline.

Anderson gestured him to the adjacent chair on his right, and he swiftly obliged.

"Good to see you," Anderson greeted while extending his arm.

Garrus reached for his hand and replied, "You, too. Enjoying the life of a politician?"

"Honestly, Garrus, I'm spending nearly every minute shaking hands and giving speeches. It's a long way from the battlefield."

"It's a shame Udina isn't here. I'm sure giving him another punch would relieve the stress."

"Ha! I'm not that close. Not yet, anyway. How's Earth been treating you? Isn't this your first time visiting?"

Garrus began rubbing the back of his neck. "It's been... strange, I suppose. I think I've only seen three or four turians my short time here."

"Heh-heh. Give it some time. With humanity on everyone's good side right now, won't be long before more aliens decide to try life on Earth."

"But not in time to stop the awkward glances," he joked. "I'm used to humans trying to avoid eye-contact with turians. But the people here have never even seen one in person before."

Anderson smiled and raised his mug to Garrus. "Well, you get to be their first," he praised, then took another sip.

"Heh. Yeah, doesn't feel as flattering as you're making it sound."

A silence overcame the two. Anderson noticed his all too familiar tired expression reflected in the coffee. Garrus, his fingers now beginning to curl, studied everything in the room but Anderson.

Anderson brought the mug closer, but stopped. Instead, he sighed. So loudly, that Garrus couldn't help but return his gaze to him. For a second, their eyes met. Garrus saw in Anderson's expression, what he had truly been feeling inside. His eyes broke away, and he, too, released a large breath.

"I guess I should apologize first," Garrus began. "The Normandy was originally yours. And you knew Shepard far longer than I did."

Anderson continued looking in Garrus' direction, but his eyes never focused directly on his face. "She was a damn fine ship, with nothing short of the best as her crew. I'll admit, I wasn't too happy about stepping down. But I wouldn't have had Shepard commanding anything less. I think it's safe to say everyone's sorry for what happened."

"Probably the crew more than anyone. I heard the Alliance has finished giving out the last of the medals. But now the crew is up for reassignment. Any of them will be lucky to serve on the same ship. Even then..."

"It still wouldn't be the same. I know. But they're good soldiers, Garrus. They'll manage. Somehow."

Anderson placed the mug on the coffee table in front of him. He sat up as he interlocked his fingers and rested them in his lap. "I hate to be blunt, but we know you caught me in-between meetings. Better we get to the reason of your being here while we have the time."

"Yes, you're right." Garrus realigned himself and placed his hands on his knees. "This wasn't something I could sum up in a message. And meeting you was faster than getting an audience with the Council. Sir, I wanted to tell you that I wish to become a Spectre."

Anderson's eyebrows nearly lept from his eyes. "This soon? Are you sure?"

"You mean you already knew?"

"Ex-military, ex-cop. Joining a mission with suicidal odds to save the galaxy?" He started to smirk. "You pretty much fit the profile."

"Not in the way you might think."

"What do you mean?"

"When I was investigating Saren at C-Sec, I had known for a while how corrupt he was, but I couldn't get the evidence I needed. The Council just wanted to give him a speedy trial and be done with it. If I had been given more time, if they had just listened!" He looked away and tightened is hand into a fist. "I might have been able to stop him sooner." He looked back to Anderson. "When I heard Shepard was planning a mission to stop Saren—to do whatever was necessary to see him brought to justice—I couldn't just sit at C-Sec hoping someone else would succeed where I failed. If leaving was the only way I could make a difference, so be it."

"But is that what you think is needed in a Spectre? Someone who's willing to make the uncomfortable decisions? Because there are plenty of them."

"At first, I thought it was really as simple as that. But the more time I spent with Shepard, the more he changed my view on what it truly meant to be a Spectre. Saving lives is as important as ending dangerous ones. Sure, maybe the bad guys get away sometimes to save the innocents. But if I'm too willing to throw away their lives to end a couple threats, than how much have I really saved in the end?"

"That's a noble thought, Garrus. It's admirable, even. But following tough decisions, and making them, are worlds apart. Pretend you had the job. A few years from now, are you sure you'd still even want to be a Spectre?"

"Sir, this is less about fulfilling my wants, and more about bringing the galaxy what it needs. The Reapers are still out there, and I can only guess how much time we have before their arrival. With Shepard gone, I feel less confident the right people are investigating the threat."

He stood up, and held his arms behind his back. "Call me restless, but even after the fight with Saren, I'm not ready to call it quits just yet. You, me, and everyone that fought alongside Shepard understand the seriousness of the Reapers better than anyone. I'll feel more at ease knowing the galaxy has someone fully dedicated to stopping them, like we did with Shepard."

Anderson shook his head with a smile on his face. "You've seriously thought this all the way through, haven't you?"

"Yes, sir, I have."

"And if I refuse your request, you'll still find some way on your own, won't you?"

"...sir," he nodded.

"Hahaha! Well, Garrus, you already won my vote. And you're a damn hero. Helped saved the Council's life when they would have had you sitting on the Citadel, getting blindsided by Sovereign."

Garrus relaxed his arms and took his seat again. "You think it will take much persuasion?" he casually asked.

"If they disagree, which even I doubt, I don't think their careers could handle the story once the word got out."

"So it's really true? The councilors are being replaced?"

"It hasn't been confirmed, but everything points to it. It's one of the many questions I won't be able to comment on in my next meeting. The public isn't too happy about the Council's handling of Saren. Saying that if they'd done their jobs better, a lot of what he did could have been prevented."

"I heard there were talks for a reelection, but I never thought they'd actually budge."

"If their approval ratings continue as they are, then it's pretty much a given. But that's my unofficial opinion."

"Heh-heh."

"But I'll definitely bring it to their attention. With luck, and a few strings pulled, you should definitely hear something within the next few weeks."

"I appreciate that, sir," he replied while shaking his hand. "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it. We need as many people like you as we can get against the fights to come."

Garrus gave a slow nod. "And I'll be ready for them."

Thanks for reading. See you next chapter :)