There are truly spectacular wonders to be found in the galaxy - if one knows where to look - and many of them can be found in the Citadel. An ancient space station of legendary size; its five arms densely populated with cities of gleaming structures and ambient lights. Then there is the Presidium, a splendour to behold with its pristine, sparkling lake, ever-shining sun and eternally blue sky. The Citadel sees many thousands of visitors across almost all known races each day – whether to seek audience with the Council, pick up new firearms fashioned from the latest of combat technology, or even to seek out the Consort, Sha'ira. Impossibly old yet equipped the most advanced technology, the Citadel is both a home and a fortress. It is a meeting place, a joining, a symbol of unity.

But even as the Citadel holds marvels akin to extraordinary riches, it is also where the small gems of the mundane reside unnoticed.

The apartment is quiet, barren. The half-shut blinds on the windows permit only a little light into its rooms. There is a stillness about the air that is almost eerie. The walls are bare and dull, the furniture sparse, and the ghostly silence seems to suggest that it is unoccupied.

A sudden series of short, soft beeps breaks the quiet as someone outside enters the keycode for the door, which soon chimes and glides open – to reveal nothing. Nobody appears to be standing outside. Yet, the door remains open for a few seconds longer before sliding shut and locking itself once more.

Quiet now, easy does it.

She mentally willed her body to be as nimble and silent as a cat's as she crept through the apartment, slinking her way past a couch and being careful not to brush against anything. The apartment appears to be empty but she knew better than to think that. She checked her cloaking device, ensuring it was still active – good.

Even a master of stealth and infiltration could be outwitted at his own game – or, to put it in her native tongue, even monkeys fall from trees. Kasumi Goto knew this all too well.

The stealthy woman sneaked into the kitchen – tiny as it was. There was a small stove alongside a sink – below which was a cupboard storing a single pot, two pans, several odd plates and cutlery. Adjacent to the sink was a cabinet and beneath the cabinet, a small fridge – the kind you usually find in hotels. A man stood with his back to her, several bags of groceries on the counter as he unloaded the contents into the cabinets. He seemed oblivious of her presence as he placed a box of crackers on one of the shelves.

Kasumi felt a predatory grin break out on her face as she snuck up behind him, invisible. Her steps as noiseless as a lioness stalking her prey. Eyes sharp as an eagle with spying a rabbit in the undergrowth. So close… She's right behind him now, and she can see that he has a jar of peanut butter in one hand as he puzzles over where to store it. The feral grin on her face grew wider.

Just as she's about to slap her hands on his shoulders and give him the fright of his life, he suddenly spoke to the peanut butter, "Kasumi, I got those tomatoes you wanted. They're in the fridge, if you want them now."

Kasumi's face fell, as did her cloak. The sudden materialisation of her body clad all in black did not seem to alarm the man, who wasn't even looking at her.

"Aw, you're no fun, Keiji." Kasumi whined, slightly put out at her failed attempt of surprising him.

Keiji cast her a small grin over his shoulder. "Not my fault you didn't silence the key tone on the door. How very careless of you, Kasumi. I expected better."

Damn, it wasn't like her to forget something like that. "What? Now I need to hack the door to my own apartment?" she asked sarcastically as she turned on her heel and strode out of the kitchen.

"Hey, this is my apartment too, you know." Keiji snorted, shutting the cabinet door and following her out to the living room with a smug grin on his face.

She deigned not to reply, plopping herself down on the faded couch in a mock sulk. Keiji gave her an exasperated sort of smile before imitating her, settling comfortably down next to her. He sidled closer and casually draped an arm over her shoulders. The weight was welcoming and Kasumi leaned into him. She rested her hooded head on his shoulder, easing against him and relishing in the feel of his body heat through her clothes. It felt nice. She felt his hand flit over hers and she intertwines their fingers – their palms touching, linking them together. Two different hands, two different people bound by a special sort of bond. They stayed like that for some time, enjoying the ease of each other's assuring company in silence. Then Keiji tilted his head and spoke into her ear. "So, what have you been up to?"

Kasumi's grin returned, this time a secretive one. "Oh, wouldn't you like to know?" she said teasingly, playfully pushing him away and hopping up from her seat. She turned with a coy smile on her lips – streaked with a strip of purple. "I think you already have an idea, don't you? And yet you still insist on asking. Obnoxious man."

Keiji smiled up at her and spread his arms wide to either side, like he was displaying himself. "Oh, you know me – old-fashioned guy, I like to go through the motions," He winked. "And I just love seeing you squirm."

"Jerk," snorted his partner, creeping forward to lean over him and rest her palms upon the padded headrest of the couch on either side of his head. She put her face tantalisingly close to his, as if about to kiss him but keeping the slimmest of gaps between them. She could feel his breath ghosting on her lips as he grinned a silent challenge back at her. At this proximity, she could see right into his molten brown eyes. He stares back into her own, hidden in shadow as they are, and she supressed a shiver from the intensity of his gaze as her heart skips a beat. Neither of them move. Then, purple-streaked lips twist into a grin as Kasumi abruptly deposits something on Keiji's lap and made to pull away.

As if he had predicted her movements, a toned arm darted forward to wrap around her waist and pull her back down on the couch. Kasumi stifled ticklish giggles as she landed on her back, lying partially on Keiji. "Don't think I'll let you get away that easily," he said a little huskily, looking deep into her eyes. Kasumi felt the giggles die and her breath catch in her throat as their eyes met. An unspoken mutual understanding seemed to pass between them – a kind of communication that came only with years of familiarity. Quiet now, he bent down slowly. She pushed herself up on her arms – and their lips met halfway.

The kiss was slow, gentle. His touch was light as his mouth moves against hers, his hands settling on her hips. She moved to straddle him to make their jobs easier, keeping a hand on his shoulder and the other in his hair. His goatee scratched her chin, eliciting a giggle from her. She could lightly taste the scent of tobacco on him – he must have snuck a cigarette or two. Her blood pounded in her ears like thunder as she ran a hand down the side of his face, feeling the familiar shape and contour of it. Her heart was still racing wildly when she pulls away and she's almost positive that her cheeks were coloured a flushed pink, but she hid it with a confident smirk. God, if he knew what such a simple, chaste kiss could do to her…

"You're so beautiful… " he murmured, tracing the line of her jaw reverently with a tenderness he only displayed when they were alone. Kasumi felt her heart flutter at the feather light touch and raised her hand to grasp his lightly. She silently prayed that he didn't notice her blush deepening.

"Flatterer." She flashed her teeth at him, "It's nice to know that you find me so attractive that I completely steal your attention, but a little acknowledgement for your present wouldn't really hurt either."

Keiji chuckled as he finally reached for the postcard-sized box wrapped in brilliant red paper and adorned with strips of baby blue ribbon. Kasumi slid off his lap and sat herself down next to him, snugly pressed up against his side like an affectionate cat as he took off the lid.

Twelve chocolate truffles sat nestled comfortably inside on little baking cups. Each one was different; white swathed with dark swirl-patterns; rich brown with textured ripples; sprinkled with grated chocolate; decorated with sliced almonds – all handmade with utmost care and precision.

Plucking one from its fellows – a dark chocolate piece topped with chopped nuts – Keiji popped it into his mouth. He grinned cockily at her, rolling the truffle around in his mouth as it melted on his tongue.

"Not only is the love of my life beautiful, she puts the master chefs of the galaxy to shame with her godly creations. " he declared, "I suppose I'll just have to make my 'return gift' on White Day extra special, don't I?"

"Charmer," Kasumi retorted, trying not to let out how his words made her heart swell in pride and, if she had to admit it, a bit of egoism. If she didn't have an excellent poker face, she would be blushing to her hairline right now.

"You're the only one ever worth charming, my love." says Keiji as he leaned towards her again.

"And you're the only one whose charms I'll ever put up with," she answered in jest, as she mirrored his action. "Happy Valentine's Day, Keiji."

"And to you, my love."

He tastes of chocolate on their second kiss.

He never did get the chance to present her his return gift.

A few days after that, the Alliance had summoned Keiji – brought him under prosecution for knowing something in a bit too much detail than. However, they couldn't nail anything on him and had to let him go in the end. Kasumi was not particularly worried when he did not return to the apartment immediately – it was expected of him to go into hiding for a while, lay low until he dropped off the radar and it was safe for him to move out in the open again. It wasn't much to be concerned of at all.

That is, until she received news of his death.

She had not known much, had not even seen a body. Only an encrypted message on a private channel and a name – Donovan Hock.

From then on, it was a flurry of gathering intel, chasing leads, pulling strings, making threats, offering bribes – all to get anything she could use on Hock. The man who had Keiji's graybox. Though not for long, if she could help it.

The activities carried Kasumi through each day and night but they felt mechanical and monotone – lifeless. Without Keiji, her work felt… hollow. Like an artist who had stepped back from a finished painting to find that the colours were flat and dull, washed-out and devoid of spirit despite the hours of care put into it. She went through the motions – never pausing, never giving herself time to stop – think – breathe. Because if she did, the full weight of his fate and absence would catch up and come crashing down on her and if that happened, she didn't know if she would be strong enoguh to get back up.

So like clockwork, she chugged determinedly along. Day after day. Night after night. Until one day, a message arrived in the household's extranet terminal.

Exactly a month after she had given him her Valentines chocolates, on March 14, the day she would have gotten her return gift from Keiji, Kasumi sat down before the terminal. She began the daily ritual of sifting through the mail from information brokers, rich individuals seeking her out for a heist or two, black-market vendors looking for extra pieces she was willing to part with – so it was no wonder a normal notification for the pickup of a package caught her.

She stared at it for a while, skimming through the message. It was subtle and did not have a header indicating the store, only a notice that a pre-paid, customised order by Mr. Keiji Okuda was ready and would he or a representative please collect it within seven days. Kasumi was mystified, though not overly suspicious. Any purchases she or Keiji made were usually picked up persoanlly rather than sent to the apartment. It made less of a paper trail – a vital detail in their line of work. Only it hadn't really worked out for Keiji –

Kasumi shook her head vigorously and rose woodenly from the chair. Keiji must have made the purchase weeks before. She may as well go and collect it, whatever it was. Downloading the address into her omni-tool, she left the apartment and caught a shuttle to the Wards.

This was how half an hour later, Kasumi Goto found herself standing in bridal shop.

"Ah, Keiji Okuda? Just a moment, please." The asari shopkeeper in green beamed, stepping away from the counter once Kasumi had shown her the verification code on her omni-tool and disappearing into the storeroom. Kasumi felt numb, disbelieving and perhaps a smidge of dread as a sneaking suspicion as to why she was there dawned upon her. But she refused to dwell on the matter. Not yet.

Moments later, the asari returned with a flat, square box wrapped up prettily in white and handed it to her. She said something to her with a smile but Kasumi couldn't remember what it was. She couldn't remember calling a shuttle either nor the trip back to the flat. But she knew she made it back somehow because the next thing she remembered was setting the box on the bed.

The box lay innocently on the sheets, the white standing out against the grey fabric. She stood before it, regarding it silently. The blackness of her clothes blended into the dimness of the room, like an uncertain shadow. Kasumi supposed she should get to opening it soon, but she was afraid of what she might find inside. After what felt like an age of stillness, she finally reached down and began undoing the wrappings slowly and methodically. The wrappings soon fell away under her plying fingers. When she lifted the cardboard lid, she was met with a view of more white. Feeling something stick in her throat and an odd sensation in her chest, she set the lid aside, reached into the box and lifted the dress.

It was a stunning gown of pure white, made from layers of satin and chiffon. The torso of the gown was held up by a halter neck collar, both ends of the white satin strap coming to the front to display the wearer's collarbone and expose the back. The fabric was clingy around the sides, accentuating a woman's curves. Layers of chiffon and satin hung in drapes beginning from the waist, ending at the floor with a short train. Completing the ensemble was a white chiffon veil like gossamer attached to a silver circlet woven to resemble stars and adorned with rhinestones. The stark whiteness of it all made it seem to give off a light of its own, the yards of snow-like cloth almost glowing in the dim room and outshining everything in its beauty. The floaty gauze and chiffon reminded her of a vapour cloud – ethereal, shimmering and flowing. There could be no mistake as to what it was.

A wedding dress.

Kasumi felt her breath catch in her throat as the full implications hit her and for that moment in time, she forgot how to breathe.

Every year on Valentine's Day, she had given Keiji a gift of handmade chocolates. And every year a month later on White Day, he would give her something back, always white in colour – a token of his appreciation. An age-old custom that had been practiced among her people. With Keiji's death, she had thought she would never receive a White Day present from him ever again. But of course, he always was an old-fashioned guy – always a sucker for tradition.

A small, paper note fell from the folds of the dress and to the floor. Kasumi bent to pick it up slowly, as if in a trance. In his handwriting, a slightly messy, crooked hand in black ink, were the words;

'Kasumi Goto, love of my life, my soulmate, confidante and partner of my mind and heart – will you concede to marry me?

P.S.: About the only time I'll ever get the chance to see you in white.'

There was a muffled flump as Kasumi felt her legs buckle and she collapsed on the edge of the bed in a daze. She hugged the material to her chest as she bowed her head over it. Over what would have been her wedding dress. Given to her by the man she would have married. She buried her face into the luxurious material, breathing in its clean scent.

It just wasn't fair.

And at last, in that empty apartment in a darkened room all alone with a beautiful wedding gown that would never be worn, the greatest thief in the galaxy allowed the anguish to wash over her being and the memories to overwhelm her mind and cloud her thoughts. Now, as the tears finally came and her heart was bared to the sea of desolation before her, Kasumi grieved the death of Keiji Okuda and rejoiced in the life he had spent with her, short as it was – her partner, her friend and only love.

The Citadel holds many wonders hidden in its arms, both extraordinary and mundane. But its true splendour lies not in its architectural marvels nor its people of power – it lies in the everyday lives of its citizens. Of love between two people who had managed to find each other in the infinite of others in the galaxy. Of love that was lost to the clutches of death, but never forgotten. Of love that lives on, in the hearts of those who were left behind.

Of love that transcended the boundaries of even life and death.

A/N:

Well, there goes my lame attempt at making people cry on Valentine's Day. :P This is a submission to the Valentine's Day contest at Aria's Afterlife Forums - seriously, if you're not already there, you're missing out on a lot. xD

At any rate, this fic sure gave me some trouble. There were major issues with word usage and tenses so I reread this numerous times. The first version is actually very different to this one in execution though content is the same. I had a bunch of pairings I had ideas to write for, with Garrus and Shepard being near the top. My ideas also extended to Charr and Ereba but in the end, I decided on Kasumi and Keiji to get the chance to write something about how the Japanese celebrate Valentine's Day.

For those who don't already know, Valentine's Day in Japan is when the women give chocolate to men. I know, bear with me here - the woman in question usually feels obligated to give chocolate to most of the men in her life and the type of chocolate she gives him reflects what kind of relationship she has with him. For instance, if the man in question is a workmate/male friend/etc., he get's 'giri-choko' (meaning 'obligatory chocolate, which is usually store-bought). If he is a crush, boyfriend or husband however, he would receive 'honmei-choko' which is usually reserved for loved ones and handmade by the girl herself to show her love and dedication.

A month later, on March 14, is White Day. This is when the guys who received chocolate from women on Valentine's Day are to 'repay' the gift. This traditionally took the form of white chocolate, hence the name of White Day. In modern times however, White Day gifts can be anything - teddy bears, handkerchiefs, clothes, flowers etc. Though an effort is usually made for the item in question to be white in colour as an adherence to the custom. A curious version of the custom dictates that the White Day gift be two or three times the value of the Valentine's Day gift. But I don't think it's a very strict rule.

So I suppose you can see how I would make Keiji's White Day gift to Kasumi a wedding dress. Because I'm cruel like that. :/

- Kasumi.

P.S.: A bit of digging will tell you that a popular modern White Day gift husbands/boyfriends give their special ladies is white lingerie. I don't quite know what to make of it.

P.S.S.: TRIVIA - There is even the lesser-known Black Day, again held a month later on April 14th (originated from Korea but has now spread to other parts of the world). This is when singles who did not get presents on Valentine's or White Day get together and eat noodles with a kind of black sauce. It's presumedly for them to celebrate their single status, but I suppose you could interpret them as wallowing in self-pity and just taking the more healthy noodles in lieu of alchohol?

P.S.S.S.: I'm still planning to write the other story ideas I initially dropped - I'm trying to see if I can get the Shakarian out by the end of today as well.