A/N: Hi, everyone! This is a joint venture between myself and my girlfriend who has a few running series of her own around some other fandoms. This, however, will be my first venture into any sort of fanfiction whatsoever. If you all like it, we'll consider more of this joint sort of thing or I'll consider doing some of my own.

So, in this scenario, we have a few different things going on. It's largely based off of my Shepard who was a sentinel, highly paragon, and had a certain love for sniper rifles, largely based off of my play style. He chose to destroy the Reapers (and all synthetic life) but also happened to survive the devastation to the Citadel. There's no funky voodoo to the Indoctrination Theory applied here or anything. Also, pre-established relationship between male Shep and Tali. So, here goes…

….

Enervate: (v). to deprive of force or strength; destroy the vigor of; to weaken.

...

5 years. It had been 5 whole years since the army of sentient machines tried to commit genocide on the entirety of organic life in the Milky Way Galaxy. 5 years since the Crucible detonated the mass relays and nearly doomed organics anyway. That was back in a time when fear of extinction united everyone—Turians, Krogan, Asari, Humans, even the Geth and the Quarians—against the Reapers.

Things were different afterwards.

Shepard—Lieutenant Commander Preston Shepard—was different. For being the hero of the entire galaxy, he led a mostly boring life. He was comfortable, though. He could get a free meal at any restaurant he walked into (as long as it wasn't Salarian or Batarian) and he could buy almost anything he set his eyes on. He lived in Anderson's old apartment, with the strip and the apartment left mostly untouched by the near-destruction of the Citadel.

And that's where he found himself one afternoon, on Silversun Strip. Playing roulette at the casino, not necessarily winning or losing. Breaking even, overall. Despite his mediocre luck, a crowd had formed around him, mostly humans and asari, just watching and cheering and clapping whenever he won a bet. Shepard was used to this—he was a war hero, after all. A living legend. Kids' eyes would light up when they recognized him on the strip. The greatest celebrity of any race couldn't hope for the kind of fame and attention Shepard received over the past 5 years since the Reapers.

Shepard wasn't paying attention to the crowd. He wasn't even paying attention to the game he was throwing money at.

He was thinking about the war. About the losses. Sometimes, it was enough to trip the combat veteran up in emotions. Thinking about people that died because of a programming algorithm in a few big robots. People that didn't have to die, if only the Council listened to his warnings about the Reapers. If only they'd seen the evidence in the Collectors and the Prothean information. If only they'd completed the Crucible a bit quicker. If only—

"Shepard."

A friendly voice cut through the crowd.

"Y'know, for a guy that could take down a death machine, you sure are terrible at roulette."

Shepard turned, looking for the voice in the crowd. Not a few feet behind stood a Turian. The one Turian that stuck with him from the very beginning.

"Garrus! What are you doing here?"

Garrus Vakarian, blue face paint, blue armor, blue holographic visor, and still it was the face that took a rocket.

"Back on the Citadel to do some weapons deals for a Turian special forces group. Stuff I shouldn't really be telling you about."

Garrus smiled, as much as Turians can, and nudged him. "You look like shit, Shepard. Civilian life making you go soft?"

"Nice to see you too, Garrus."

"It's been too long, old friend. We really ought to catch up. It's been…. What… 2 years since we parted ways and I went back to Palaven?"

"Damn… feels like it's been less than that." Shepard paused, backing away from the roulette table and passing the casino employee a tip. "Tell you what, let's head up to the apartment and catch up over a glass of the good stuff."

Garrus took a step forward. "I have a better idea. Meet me in the locker room down at the Armax Arsenal Arena. You look like you need to knock some rust off, and I'm looking for some fun that doesn't involve the Turian military or C-Sec or any of that bullshit." He paused, then added. "Unless you're afraid that I'll outshoot you again like I did up on the Presidium."

"You're on, Vakarian."

…

An hour and a half later, Shepard sat on a bench in the locker room, pulling on his armor. It was modeled based off of the Cerberus Spirit Armor: lightweight and very sleek, with enough capacitors and generators to give him a strong shield advantage over other armors as well as a boost to his own biotic and tech powers. This specific set of armor was stamped with his Alliance designation, "N7," and equipped with an outer layer designed to be able to change color and pattern to adapt to changing environments between planets. It hadn't been too long since he last suited up, since Armax Arsenal sponsored him to put on matches and test new equipment and scenarios. Besides, he needed a reason to stay reasonably fit.

"Shepard, when you're done, I want your input on a scenario," Garrus piped up from the other room.

"Be right there." Shepard got up and walked over to the interface.

"So, what are you thinking? Geth, with super elites, maybe? Fans always love seeing more robots dying."

"I'd rather not…." Shepard suddenly thought back to the war, back to Legion and the sacrifice he made for the Geth. He thought of the entire race of artificial intelligence that had to die in order to destroy the Reapers. Legion's words echoed through his mind. Does this unit have a soul? When Shepard chose to destroy the Reapers and all synthetic life, including geth, did he extinguish an entire race of souls?

"Thinking of Legion, Commander?"

Shepard sighed and didn't deny it. "The Geth were our allies. They fought beside us. Legion saved my life at the Collector Base. I wish Armax Arsenal would remove Geth from the options."

"How about Cerberus, then? I always love… how did you say it…" Garrus paused. "Kicking them in the… teeth? For how many times they betrayed us to the Reapers?"

Shepard nodded, the emotions from the war fading back away. "Works for me, Garrus."

Garrus keyed in the selections. Five minutes later, the pair was finishing up modifications to their weapons.

"So, Shepard… ready for me to school you with a sniper rifle again?"

"Garrus, what if I told you that I missed on purpose up on the Presidium that one time?"

"Then I'd call you a liar. And then tell you to prove it."

Shepard laughed, and shouldered his weapons. He would be carrying three guns into this fight: the M-97 Viper, M-11 Suppressor, and M-12 Locust. Since they would be fighting Cerberus, both he and Garrus equipped their rifles with enhancements to see through smoke. Garrus carried the M-92 Mantis and M-15 Vindicator.

"You ready?"

"Hell yeah. Just like old times."

Shepard nodded, started to put on his helmet, and then tossed it back in his locker. He could fight Cerberus Elites without it. Garrus was already on the elevator platform when Shepard stepped on.

…

The music started playing along with the announcer's voice.

"Lllladies and gentlemennnnn. It's combat night here in the Armax Arsenal Arena! Today's match brings you Commander Shepard of the Alliance and the Turian Spectre, Garrus Vakarian!"

Spectre? Shepard shot Garrus a "what the hell?" look, which Garrus just shrugged off. "We'll talk about that later."

A few seconds later, Centurions spawned on the far side of the arena. Splitting the field, Garrus and Shepard went to corners of the arena, drawing sniper rifles. Too far to deploy smoke yet, and too far for Shepard or Garrus to use Overload, two Centurions each rushed towards their end of the map.

Garrus was the first one to shoot. One shot to the head. Disrupter ammo combined with the shear power of the Mantis ripped through the Centurion's shields and took his head off. Shepard didn't have a clear shot yet; his respective centurion was in cover, but close enough to time an Overload when the soldier popped out of cover to shoot. The shock of the Overload to his shields sent him reeling, and a shot from Shepard's rifle penetrated his helmet to finish him. Shepard stood, looking to gain a bit of ground on the spawning troops.

By then, two Centurions were the least of their worries as Shepard suddenly found the flash of red lasers sights honing in on his position. He dove into the nearest cover, just a few feet from Garrus.

"Nemesis."

"I really hate those things. Their damn sniper rifles always bringing my shields down."

Shepard leaned out from the wall, not taking aim but just scanning for the enemy that had been sighting him. Shots were pinging off the obstacles all around him, with one or two hitting and taking a chunk out of his shields. Shepard finally found her just as she began sighting him again.

"Found her. Far right corner on the ledge."

Garrus waved in acknowledgement. "I'll keep these troopers down, you put her out of commission."

Garrus switched from his sniper to his assault rifle, rising up and resting the rifle on the top of barricade. From where he was, the Nemesis couldn't get a shot at him but he could still put fire over the top of any advancing Cerberus to keep their heads down.

Shepard took a prone position with the muzzle of his Viper just outside of the edge of his cover. His opposite, the Nemesis, stood up, immediately sighting down on him a moment before Shepard pulled the trigger. The shot landed center of mass, not completely bringing down her shields. Another shot, still center of mass. Shields down, and she backed off from her cover, rolling somewhere else. He didn't have a shot anymore.

Shepard muttered to himself. "Fuck this…."

He stood, his body starting to glow with mass effect fields as he sent Warp around the cover to hit his enemy. The warp field killed her immediately.

Garrus had already mopped up most of the ordinary troopers. Shepard reloaded, the thermal clip clanking to the ground as three more shots finished off the rest.

The announcer's voice came on as Shepard's last shot rang out. "End of Round One." Garrus stepped over to him.

"Not bad, Commander. The easy civilian life hasn't softened you at all."

"Not too bad yourself, Garrus. Though I'm still in the Alliance military. And technically a Spectre." He paused for a moment. "Speaking of which—"

The announcer's voice cut in again. "5…4…3…2…"

"Later, Shepard. Hope you're ready."

"1… Round Two."

Garrus switched back to his Mantis, taking up a position behind Shepard, who stowed his own sniper rifle and drew his pistol. Cerberus troops starting spawning only a few meters in front of Shepard. He nodded to Garrus, who began picking off enemies as he could. Shepard used a combination of Overload and Throw to put ordinary troopers out of cover or to drop the shields of more powerful enemies like Nemesis and Phantoms. Garrus's rifle and Shepard's suppressed pistol conversed in a multitude of shots and reloads.

"Shepard! Need a thermal clip!"

Turning back into cover, Shepard dug a fresh rack of thermal clips out of his ammo pack and threw it over to Garrus. The Turian caught it, loaded one of the clips into his rifle with the heat diffusion system hissing at being worked so hard.

Shepard popped over the top of the barricade he was behind, just in time for a well-placed shot from another Nemesis to find its mark. Shepard heard the telltale sign of his shields dropping, and dropped behind the barricade. In the seconds that it took for his shields to recharge, he dropped his pistol and pulled the rifle off of his back, with it stretching and deploying in his hands. He still knew where his enemy was, and as he rose over the barricade again, he heard the familiar 'clap' of Garrus's rifle shot. In the same instant, the Nemesis's head disintegrated.

"End of Round 2."

The announcer's voice came as a relief to Shepard, breathing hard after the scramble of the end.

"Pulling your ass out of the fire again, Shepard," Garrus called out teasingly. "If I hadn't been there and been such a good shot, the Illusive Man would get the chance to rebuild you again."

Shepard shrugged it off. Garrus was right that time.

"You did run out of ammo, though," he called back.

"You got me there, Commander."

"5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Final Round."

Not ten meters from Shepard and Garrus, who were both now out of cover, an Atlas suddenly appeared.

"Garrus, flank it! It can't shoot at both of us at the same time!"

Garrus and Shepard both ducked behind cover as the Atlas turned and started firing rockets. Though they exploded against the low wall Shepard was behind, he knew that his shields were weakening bit by bit.

The glow of Garrus's omni-tool appeared around his arm, as he turned out of cover and sent an Overload at the Atlas's shields. Shepard switched to his SMG, knowing that rapid fire would be effective against the mech's shields. He turned out of cover and fired, but stopped moments later as he saw a shimmer of light move across his field of vision. Fast.

He turned, sending a barrage of bullets at it. "Phantoms!"

The shimmer morphed into a Cerberus Phantom directly in front of Garrus. Shepard glowed with mass effect fields as he threw a powerful warp field at the Phantom. The blast dropped its barriers and sent it reeling, with Garrus stepping out of cover, the blade unfolding from his omni-tool, and plunging through the midsection of his foe.

"Now let's take care of that Atlas!"

Ducking back into cover, Garrus and Shepard timed shots and Overloads to hit the Atlas. Not a few seconds later, another powerful warp field from Shepard broke through the outer armor and ruptured the internal components, resulting in an explosion that sent bits of shrapnel at the pair.

They heard the familiar tune of victory as the announcer's voice came on again.

"The match goes to Shepard and Vakarian!"

Cheering—either artificial or from crowds gathered around the windows—ensued, as the two stepped out of the simulation and back into the locker room.

As he released the clasps of his armor, Shepard couldn't hold back his curiosity.

"So… A Spectre now? You help me defeat the Reapers and they finally promote you?"

"Well, yeah." Garrus offered a half shrug. "After you rallied all sentient life in the galaxy and blew up a bunch of robots, you did retire, sort of. The Council figured they could rely on someone else for a change. And I have been doing quite a bit with the Turian special operations community in the Terminus Systems and all. Made sense that they give me Spectre status to operate of my own accord in that realm."

"Sounds like you're doing pretty well for yourself, Garrus."

"I do my best. But what about you? How have you been?"

Shepard let the greaves of his armor clank to the floor as he released them, the last piece of his armor. "It's… been easy, I guess? With the Reapers gone and the war over… I don't know what to do anymore. Tali's been busy with Rannoch and all. I've been here playing hero as the Alliance wants me to do."

"Thank the spirits the war's over…."

Shepard stayed silent at that.

Garrus looked at him. "The war never really ends for us though, does it?"

"The nightmares, the memories… they don't stop, Garrus."

"Remember what I told you. A certain Turian friend of yours isn't sleeping any better. And he'd love to meet you at the bar and absolutely drink you under the table."

Shepard smiled at Garrus's sense of humor. "Follow war with alcohol. I like the way you think."

"Come on. Let's get back up to that fancy apartment of yours and crack open a few."

Shepard stood, shoving his armor back into his locker and nodding at Garrus's suggestion. "Let's do it."

Walking out of the locker room and back to the elevator to the apartment, Shepard felt his omni-tool vibrate for a second, knowing he had just received a message. Most likely from Tali. The only two people that his omni-tool interrupted him for were Hackett and Tali. He looked down at the notification as he stood in the elevator up to the apartment.

"Love letters from your favorite quarian?"

"Garrus."

"What? It's funny." Garrus chuckled to lighten the mood.

"Garrus," Shepard repeated. "Something's wrong."

...

A/n: Please review! They mean the world.