Marci Shepard knew when to pick her fights, and knew when to back down. This was a fight she did not want to be a part of. It wasn't a firefight, nor was it a fistfight. It was a spar of words and hidden meanings. Subtext she would never understand.

Grunt and Mordin both shifted awkwardly behind her, neither of them willing to come to her defense. Hell, they didn't even know the man in front of her, much less why he was so angry. So she was working with Cerberus against the Reapers. If nobody else was going to take action, she was.

Marci just wished that Garrus were with her. Maybe Kaidan would lighten up at the familiar sight of him. Maybe all the yelling and hand gestures Kaidan was throwing at her, would dissolve into something far less hostile.

Maybe not.

"I'm doing this because I have to," Marci argued, her voice growing weaker. This was unlike Kaidan. He wasn't confrontational. Not like this. "Not because I want to."

"That's a nice sentiment Shepard, but Cerberus?" Kaidan argued. His eyes were alight with something Marci had never seen before. It wasn't anger but instead a bubbling feeling of betrayal.

"Cerberus only ones willing to take action against Collectors. Shouldn't blame Shepard." Finally, Mordin stepped in. His argument was not forced or awkward and it made Marci feel all the more better about working with the Salarian. She was wary of Salarians. The genophage had left a bad taste in everyone's mouths, but her's especially.

She wasn't sure if Mordin had any sort of connection to the genophage, but many assumptions could be made about salarian scientists. That was one of them.

Grunt made some sort of noise of recognition behind her. Whether it was a huff of anger or a sigh of impatience, she couldn't be sure. Grunt was unpredictable at best.

"Shepard, you and I both know what Cerberus is like. We've both seen what they've done."

Marci thought on it. It was true that Cerberus had not always been pro-alien. They were harsh, but they got the job done. How else was she supposed to help anyone if no one was willing to help her?

"I can't-I can't do anything without their help." Marci's words began to falter. She knew it was time to leave. She couldn't be here much longer.

The dreams she had that night did nothing to make her feel better about what happened on Horizon. Marci laid in her bed, eyes wide open and focused on the ceiling of her quarters. The stars above her did nothing to comfort her.

Back when the world was right-side up and people still trusted her, stars were a comfort. She could look up and know that they were there. They would always be there.

Now they were just a reminder of her nightmares. A reminder of the blank emptiness that her death had brought her. Stars were not a comfort, they were a trigger.

She pushed a button on her bedstand and watched as the shutters covered her windows, blocking her view completely.

There were so many things that had gone wrong on Horizon. Upon meeting Kaidan, a swell of relief and pride rushed through her. He had made it through sheer strength and tact. He was finally showing progress, and he wasn't even serving under her. That was the pride.

Her relief had swung through at the sight of him. It used to make her knees feel knobby and make her breath hitch in her throat. Now it just made her want to vomit.

She hated Cerberus.

Marci slipped out of her Cerberus-issue bed in her Cerberus-issue pajamas. She wanted to revolt, to flip tables and throw chairs and prance around naked just to show Cerberus that they didn't own her. A familiar, professional restraint held her back.

Her body moved methodically towards the elevator and mechanically pressed the buttons that had become so familiar to her over the course of two months.

Had it really been two months already? Damn. And half the galaxy didn't even know she had come back to life yet. It was a daunting thought, Marci realized as the elevator slowly crawled down towards the crew deck.

She needed something familiar, something to cling to. Funny how often that word seemed to be popping up as of late. The word itself was so easily formed and could be made out of something so small. A word. An article of clothing. Marci slowly lifted one of her hands to reach towards the small, crystal necklace that fell across her collarbone. One thing Cerberus had failed to steal away from her.

She remebered fondly of when the asari consort had placed the small, emerald crystal in her hand and gave her hand an extra squeeze for luck. Familiar. Marci sighed.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of waiting, the elevator creaked to a stop and she filed out quietly. The slow hum of the mess accompanied by the ever-present fluorescence of Cerberus lighting. Her boots made long, thumping noises against the sleek ground.

She stepped over towards the refrigerator and opened it, hoping for something, anything, that resembled real food. Thankfully-as this wasn't an Alliance vessel-she found a tub of chocolate ice cream gifted personally by the Illusive Man himself. It was her favorite "illegal" food as the Alliance liked to call it. The gift was nice, Marci supposed, but it was petty. Was he really going to try to win her over with a tub of any old human food that she could find at a one-credit store on the Citadel?

She did, however, notice the dextro-amino tub of ice cream sitting next to it. That was new, she mused. Marci smirked at the thought of the Illusive Man handpicking certain Turian ice creams to try and appeal to Garrus so that Garrus would, in turn, make him sound better to Shepard.

At least...that's what Marci thought the ice cream was for.

She grabbed the dextro ice cream and walked swiftly into the main battery. Garrus never slept, Marci had learned a long time ago, and if she wanted to joke around with anybody right now, it was him.

The door slid open and Marci was met by Garrus' back, same as always.

"Shepard." He greeted without turning around.

"You'll never guess what our friend, the Illusive Man, got you." Marci found it hard to contain the amusement in her voice.

Garrus turned around, his eyes searching Marci's face for less than a second before hitting the ice cream in her hand. His mandibles flared, a sign that Marci still couldn't read after all these years, and cocked his head to the side.

"That's...expensive."

"Ever have it before?"

"They only serve it at fancy military galas to 'cleanse the palette' between courses. I've never seen it flavored though." Garrus' voice was flightly and amused and Marci chuckled. This was nice, she realized. After everything she had been through the last month or two, joking over ice cream was a nice change of pace.

"Didn't even know Turians had galas."

"Only of the military variety," Garrus smirked(or the turian equivalent, thereof) and motioned for Shepard to sit. She sighed and stepped over towards one of the benchs, watching as his eyes followed her to the seat. "Any other kind is an embarassment and you should be ashamed for even thinking of attending."

"Ah." Marci leaned back on her bench. She loved talking to Garrus. It almost felt like old times, though Garrus was a lot more tight back then. Marci supposed she shouldn't talk though. She was almost as 'pole-up-the-ass' as he was.

"I'm assuming he did this to win you over?" Garrus asked, his eyes flickering back to his panel quickly. He pressed a few buttons and it went dim, his full attention landing on Shepard.

"I think so," Marci shifted in her seat, uncomfortable in her Cerberus regs. Oh how she wished for her tanktops and sweatpants right about now. "He got some for me too."

"Chocolate?"

"How'd you know?"

"I've known you long enough to know what your favorite food is, Shepard." Garrus chuckled. He motioned for her to follow him as he head out for the Mess. Garrus' gait was slow and steady, common for him. In combat, he was an absolute machine of quick reactions and steadily-followed orders. On the ship? Calm as pool water.

He took a seat at one of the tables and Marci followed suit, her eyes studying him.

"Are you alright, Shepard?" Garrus asked, his eyes focused on the carton of turian ice cream in her hand. She couldn't really look him in the eyes either. She knew what he meant when he asked if she was alright.

"I..I just shouldn't date anyone, ever, I guess."

"Swearing yourself off romance forever is probably a bad idea," Garrus assured her. His gaze flickered to her quickly, catching her offguard. Garrus' eyes were...something else, sometimes. They could probe you for info, comfort you, or burn holes in your back. Take your pick. "Though, it's your decision Commander. Don't let my opinion sway you."

"If anyone's opinion is going to sway me, it's gonna be your's, Garrus." Marci said, her fingers picking at the edge of the carton.

"Ditto."

They sat in companionable silence for a while before Marci cracked open her carton. It wasn't too soon before her mouth was watering at the sight of the fresh, crystalline, chocolate-y goodness. Garrus watched, an amused look on his face.

"What?"

"You look like a vorcha, about to swoop in on its prey." Garrus chuckled.

"You wanna hear something funny?" Marci asked as she stuck her finger in the ice cream. It was nice and chilled, but not too frozen. She used her finger as a spoon and stuck the little bit of ice cream in her mouth. This was the best damn ice cream money could buy, that was for sure, but it couldn't really compare to her father's old blend. Still though, this ice cream was heavenly.

"What?" Garrus humored her, something he was far too used to.

"I didn't even know what a vorcha was 'till I first came to Omega."

"No kidding?"

"Nope!" Marci took another bit of ice cream between a chuckle.

It felt really, really nice to enjoy a bit of ice cream with one of her best friends. Garrus had been like a beacon of comfort, which really wasn't that strange considering Marci's history with a turian much like him.

Garrus laughed, and it was the first time in a while that it sounded genuine. Marci couldn't help but widen her smile. Garrus's laugh was quite infectious, something she never failed to remind him.

"Well," Garrus concluded, nodding his head. "You weren't missing out on much."

"No kidding."

Another silence fell on them, and Marci took the few minutes to study him. His scars were still strong and bright, but somehow very...entrancing? God, that'll be the last time she describes anything of Garrus's as 'entrancing', but still. They're like a pattern of waves, of a dim fire, slow burning.

"Shepard?"

"Sorry," Marci shook her head. "It's just your scars..."

A talon instinctively flew up to the side of his face that was bandaged. Garrus wasn't insecure about his appearance, but the scars still bothered him a bit. To have her bring them up was just a little more than embarassing.

"Oh, them."

"I mean," Marci cocked her head to side. "They're just kind of cool to look at."

Garrus took the opportunity to deflect to the best of his abilities.

"You wouldn't be the first lady to tell me that." Garrus joked. Marci narrowed her right eye and smirked, a common habit of her's when she was questionably laughing.

"Who would?"

"Hmm," Garrus trailed off, his blue eyes looking in the distance as if the answer was there. "You weren't supposed to ask that."

Marci laughed and took another bit of ice cream before closing the carton.

"Done already?" Garrus asked as he watched her hands. There was something very hypnotic about human hands, especially Shepard's. They were fast and slender, like two birds on speed. At least, her's were. He wasn't sure about other humans, he didn't really look.

"You're not supposed to eat right before you go to bed, you know." Marci nodded to herself as she spun the considerably lighter carton around on the tabletop. Garrus had heard this before, but assumed it was just a human thing. He always ate before going to sleep...it was the only time he had time to eat.

"That's silly."

"Says you." Marci stood up and stepped over to their large fridge, placing the carton back inside. Garrus watched carefully, hoping that his eyes didn't wander. They had a strange habit of doing that when speaking to Marci lately.

They wandered.

"So..." Marci closed the fridge and Garrus quickly looked away, only slightly embarassed. "You gonna eat your's?"

"I think I'll save mine for a special occasion." Garrus concluded and, despite his better judgement, accidentally winked. Well he supposed it wasn't that accidental if he had done it, plus it's not like it meant anything. Just, you know, a friendly wink. Maybe she hadn't even seen it, after all it was fairly difficult to see a turian winking, especially one like Garrus.

Marci's smirk became almost predatory and her eyebrow quirked to monumental heights. Garrus couldn't help but feel as if he had just unleashed a beast of sorts.

"Right," Marci nodded to him as she slowly began to back up. "I'm going to catch a few winks."

"You ah...you do that." Garrus stumbled. Making this situation anymore awkward than it already was was seemingly impossible.

"Don't wait up." Marci backed out of the room, careful not to trip backwards over anything. Garrus smiled as she left the mess and didn't move until he heard the familiar sliding of the elevator closing. Finally, the damn thing shut which left him alone in the Mess.

Marci leaned against the elevator wall. Her smile widened for some reason and she bit on her bottom lip to prevent it from falling off her face. It was just a wink. Nothing more, nothing less. She was sure Garrus winked all the time, she wasn't some sort of special exception. Ugh, she was acting like a schoolgirl for pete's sake!

Garrus paced back to the Main Battery, his mind unfocused. Why did he wink!? She probably thought he was insane. She had Kaidan! Except that wink didn't really mean anything, of course. Unless it did. Garrus had never been attracted to someone before in his life. There were a few..erm...trysts, so to speak, but never any real attraction! That's not what he harbored for Commander Shepard. No, there was no way. Garrus sighed as the doors slid shut and he was left alone to his thoughts for the rest of the evening.

Marci was still smiling when she fell into bed that night.