A/N - This story follows Krogan Sympathy chronologically, but you don't need to have read it to follow along.

New Citadel was a bit of a misnomer. No one had any illusions that it was an adequate replacement for the original, but the ad hoc space station hastily cobbled together from ships too damaged to make FTL jumps had to be called something, and since a number of species' representatives had congregated there in the aftermath of the war, the name stuck. The Keepers had survived the Reapers' purge, so the original was expected to eventually be liveable again. Opinions on returning to what was the galaxy's largest known mass grave varied from the pragmatic to the horrified.

Shepard and Garrus took up residence in part of a converted Alliance frigate after she was released from the hospital and cleared for space flight again. It wasn't much: a small bedroom with an even smaller bathroom, and a living area barely big enough for a couch, with a counter along one wall to hold the few appliances that constituted their kitchen. But it gave them more privacy than they would have had on Earth, kept Garrus in easy contact with the Hierarchy, and, most importantly, gave them space to think about what came next.

It was a question that still hung between them. The only thing they'd been in agreement on was that yes, they'd both been serious about wanting kids, and no, they didn't want to tempt fate by waiting. Garrus had been joking when he suggested seeing if Miranda could figure out a way to cheat biology the way she helped Shepard cheat death, but the woman surprised him with her promise to look into it. Four months later, Miranda had contacted them and launched into a highly technical explanation about Shepard's implants and the asari method of randomizing DNA. She lost him early on, but he got the important part: having sex with him could get Shepard pregnant with a human child. Miranda cautioned them that it was only theoretically possible, and had a very small chance of success. Garrus didn't care. It was worth trying.

They hadn't had much of a chance yet, just a few weeks before a call to Palaven that he couldn't refuse, followed shortly after by an invitation from Wrex to see how the rebuilding on Tuchanka was going. Shepard had lit up at the prospect of seeing him and Bakara again, and that trip took another few weeks. Garrus had to admit the progress the krogan were making on restoring their planet was impressive, as were Wrex's efforts to single-handedly repopulate it.

They were making their way back home now on a civilian transport. It was slow going. Only half of the relay system was restored, and their ship had been delayed twice in the jump queue to allow military ships to pass through. When they finally arrived back in the Sol system, Garrus reluctantly turned his attention to his neglected inbox. He had a few messages from his father and sister, a follow-up from Victus about the Palaven trip, a chatty letter from Tali about the irrigation system she was working on that ended with a vaguely threatening question asking why Wrex got a visit before she did, and the usual haul of fanmail and interview requests. And then there was the message marked urgent, from the turian councilor.

It was an offer to join the Spectres.

Garrus scanned the message again, and when he reached the end, scrolled back up to the top a third time, because he still wasn't sure he was reading it right. Phrases like urgent need and refilling ranks jumped out at him. In other words, he hadn't been on the shortlist, but the Council was getting desperate. The war had left a lot of political vacuums, and no one wanted to be left holding less than what they'd had before.

A Spectre. Him.

Garrus gave a short laugh before he could help himself, then glanced at Shepard. She was dozing against his side, having decided that one more day of ignoring her inbox wasn't going to hurt. They'd both gone incommunicado while visiting Tuchanka, and it would take her most of a day to go through her accumulated messages. At least most of them had to do with consultations and endorsements these days, rather than missions where people shot at her (well, at them, since he'd been right there with her most of the time). Retiring as a galactic hero did have its perks.

The Council wanted his answer as soon as he got back. Garrus checked the time. Their small transport ship was still a couple hours out from New Citadel. Shepard would probably sleep the whole way in. He shrugged the shoulder she was leaning on, and she stirred.

"Hey," he said, as she yawned and blinked up at him. "Need your opinion."

She read the Council's message, then read it again, frowning. "I didn't realize things were that bad."

"Thanks." Garrus flicked a mandible at her, and she rolled her eyes.

"That's not what I meant. You're more than qualified." Shepard set the datapad on her knee. "Are you going to accept?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want to?"

"Do you want me to?"

Shepard fiddled with the datapad. "If you want it, you should do it." She started to say something else, then stopped, pressing her lips together like the words would escape otherwise. She'd been doing that a lot lately. Garrus almost asked what was wrong, but she'd already promised to tell him when they got back.

Instead, he asked, "You thought anymore about Hackett's offer?"

She sighed. "Being an N7 graduate doesn't mean I'd be a good instructor for the program." Unspoken was the fact that she hadn't picked up a gun since the end of the war. "And it's not much of a retirement if I keep hanging around the military."

"Want me to start looking for that place in the tropics?" Shepard didn't respond. Her hair fell over her eyes, and Garrus brushed it back, careful not to catch his talon on her scars. "Hey," he said softly. "Do you?"

She made a noncommittal sound and shrugged. "One thing at a time. You haven't said if you want the Spectre position."

"Yes, I did."

"You said you didn't know." Shepard caught his smirk. "Smart-ass."

"You love it." He drew her closer and nuzzled her hair before growing serious. "It's a big decision. I don't like that the Council doesn't want to give me time to think about it." It surprised him that he needed to, but his priorities had changed. He wanted a family with Shepard, and a family needed stability, not a parent who could get sent to the other end of the galaxy at a moment's notice. But he was tempted. They could make it work. He just wished Shepard would give him some indication of what she preferred.

"Well, you've got a couple hours till we dock." Shepard settled herself against his shoulder again. "Think on it."

He did, but by the time the captain announced their arrival at the space station, he was no closer to a decision. Maybe he could pretend he wasn't here yet. It wasn't like New Citadel had the biometric security measures of the original. He let himself believe that all the way to their apartment. Shepard dropped her bag by the door and went to check on her hamster. The fuzzy creature was nearing the end of his lifespan, and she'd worried the whole trip that he'd die while she was gone. Garrus took their bags into the bedroom and his omnitool flashed.

After due consideration, he set it to ignore.

He went back into the living area, and found Shepard fiddling with the coffeemaker. Her lips were moving soundlessly, like she was rehearsing a briefing. She tried to smile when she saw him, but didn't manage more than a slight lift at the corners of her mouth. Oh.

Garrus reached out to her, but she shook her head. He let his hand fall. "Time for that talk?" he asked.

"Don't you have a Council to report to?"

"They can wait."

"Right." Shepard drew herself up and put her shoulders back. Garrus sat, in hopes that it would make whatever she had to say easier. "Right," she repeated. "When you were away on Palaven -"

Garrus's omnitool flashed again, his silence code overridden.

"Ignore it," he said.

"When you were gone, I -" she started again.

The doorbell chimed. They looked at each other. It rang again, and Garrus stood to tell whoever was on the other side to go away.

The young human on the doorstep wore a C-Sec uniform. "Garrus Vakarian? I'm here to escort you to the Council."

Shepard gave a resigned sort of laugh behind Garrus, and officer's eyes widened as he caught sight of her. A new recruit. Garrus moved to block his view before he could start babbling. She hated that. At least with Saren I could remember what everyone was thanking me for, she'd confessed at the hospital.

"Go on," Shepard said, when Garrus hesitated. "Not like I'm going anywhere."

It was a short shuttle ride to the other other side of the station. Garrus spent most of it worrying over what little Shepard had gotten out. He never meant to be on Palaven as long as he had. Most of their communication had been by text, but she'd seemed normal in the few vidlinks they'd managed, if a little subdued near the end. He thought she was just missing him the way he was her. It wasn't till his return that he'd started wondering if something else was going on.

"Sir?"

The officer was standing by the open shuttle door with a worried look. Garrus shook himself out his thoughts and let himself be escorted to the Council chamber.

The new version was less impressive than the old, converted as it was from the CIC of an asari dreadnought. Garrus suspected it had been picked for its dais, which kept the Council elevated above the rest of the room. The councilors were mid-argument when he walked in.

"Our focus should be on restoring existing settlements, not the establishment of new ones."

"Convenient. Resources go to those with the most colonized worlds, even if they barely have a population worth supplying left."

"The krogan are a recognized Council race, Tevos."

"And they have not yet reached the limit of their homeworld."

"Thank you for joining us, Vakarian." Sparatus's voice cut across his fellow Council members, and they stopped. That was interesting. The asari usually were usually in the middle of any Council consensus, but Tevos had been alone against the others. She looked frustrated as Sparatus continued. "Your first assignment -"

"I'd like more time to think about it," Garrus interrupted. Sparatus's mouth closed with an audible click. The new human councilor's eyes crinkled at the corners. Vera Rubein had been a mid-level politician before the war. During it, she'd coordinated the evacuation of non-combatants from Budapest after its indoctrinated leaders announced forced relocations "for the safety of the populace," and went on to oversee resistance supply lines for half the continent. She fought just as hard for the Council position afterward, and had been the one to propose keeping the Council in Earth's orbit until the Citadel was repaired. She was wildly popular among humans, less so among the other races.

"This needs dealt with now," Sparatus said. "We don't have to wait for you to make a decision."

"Then my answer is no," Garrus said. "Ask your next candidate."

"Sparatus," Tevos said. "This was your idea."

"This assignment would benefit from your expertise and connections," Vera broke in. "Would you be willing to take it as a trial, with no obligation become a full Spectre at its end?"

Now he was curious. "What kind of assignment is this? And what connections?"

The councilors exchanged glances.

"Primarily information gathering," Valern said. "Habitable world on shortlist for krogan, but there are rumors that an unauthorized human settlement was established shortly after the war. We need you to confirm the rumors and see if they are open to resettlement elsewhere." Another exchange of glances. "Your wife would be useful in obtaining positive reception."

"That's why you want me?" Garrus's mandibles pulled tight against his face. "No."

"Don't be ridiculous," Sparatus said. "This is about what's best for the galactic community, not your pride."

Garrus barely kept his temper. "If Shepard wanted to do your dirty work, she wouldn't have retired. You aren't using me to drag her back in."

"Shepard would be a welcome addition, but we will not insist upon her accompanying you," Tevos said. She looked like she'd just won an argument. "We have every confidence in your ability to complete this mission alone."

"No one wants the krogan to feel they are being treated unfairly," Vera said. "Addressing this before their need for a colony world becomes urgent shows good faith. The galaxy can ill afford another conflict."

Garrus wondered if this was how Shepard had felt. He could say no, but they were right. Wrex and Bakara were managing the krogan's population growth, but it wouldn't be long before they came knocking at the Council's door. He didn't want Shepard to have to get mixed up in Council business again, but he didn't want to leave her again either.

"Only on a trial basis," he said. He hoped she'd forgive him.

"Excellent," Sparatus said. "Your ship will depart tomorrow. The full briefing and funds will be waiting for you there."

Dismissed, Garrus took a moment outside the chamber to collect himself. His pride was stung. At least it was true that his past experience would be useful. This was investigative work, and they hadn't said he had to convince any settlers to move, just to broach the subject with them. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that the Council was worried about more than a stray human colony. He went over the meeting again, playing the councilors' expressions in his mind to see if he could work it out.

He stopped on the way back at a place that served levo and dextro meat wraps. The shop was based out of an observation deck, and had a great view of Earth. Garrus ordered for both of them and left just as the place started to fill up with the dinner crowd. He was so busy thinking over the Council meeting that he forgot about the interrupted conversation with Shepard until he was in their apartment again. She smiled when she smelled the meat wraps, and he decided to wait before bringing it up. They folded down the little table next to the counter and she listened while he told her about his agreement with the Council between bites.

"Sounds like there's a power struggle going on in the Council," she said when he finished.

"What do you know about Councilor Rubein?"

"Just what's been on the news. And she's the one who set this place up for us. I wondered if it came with ties." She crumpled the wrap's container distractedly and stood. A cup came down from the cupboard and Garrus watched her try and fail to make coffee. The heating mechanism kept shutting off halfway through.

"We going to finish that conversation?" he asked on her fourth try.

She balanced the cup in the crook of her elbow and lifted the top of the machine. "The coffeemaker isn't working right."

"Shepard."

The lid went down, and the cup hit the counter. She stared into it for a long moment before turning around.

"I had a miscarriage."

The air left the room. Whatever he thought she might say, that wasn't it. "You were pregnant?" he managed after a few tries. She nodded. He stared at her, at a loss. "You never said."

She looked away and folded her arms around her middle. He wanted to hold her, but didn't know if she would welcome it. "You'd already been gone a week before I knew."

He'd done research when they started this. Some of it, bloody and described in clinically horrifying detail, surfaced. "Are you okay?" he asked, alarmed.

Her eyes were red when she looked back at him.

"No."

He took a half-step towards her, and she came into his arms. He'd never felt so helpless. "I mean," he said as she shook silently, "physically. I know you're not – I didn't mean it that way. Was I hurting you, after?" He'd never forgive himself if he had, if he hadn't noticed that he was. It was a relief when she shook her head. "You were really pregnant?" he repeated, in wonder.

"It was going to be a welcome home present." She took a deep, shuddering breath.

He stroked her hair, and for a moment saw Shepard with a little redheaded child peeking over her shoulder. It hurt. "Do you know what it was?" he asked.

She shook her head again. "Too early. And I wouldn't have wanted to find out without you." He pressed his forehead against the crown of her head, imagining hearing the news in a doctor's office. They'd come home and argue over names and new, bigger places to live, and he'd kiss her in the middle, too happy to disagree seriously, and she'd push him down and they wouldn't have separated again till the morning. He held her tighter and mourned for what could have been.

"I want to go with you," she said sometime later, curled around him on the couch.

"I'm glad," he said. "I missed you on Palaven."

"I want to try again, too. Just, not right away."

"Okay."

She was quiet for a minute. "And I want a pet varren."

Garrus laughed harder than the joke warranted. "You should have asked Wrex when we were on Tuchanka," he said.

"He guessed. About this."

"Is that why he nearly broke my hand when we left?"

"Probably." She kissed his mandible and curled into him closer, eyes closing. He debated moving them to the bed, but the couch wasn't that uncomfortable, and they'd have plenty of time to rest on their way to the colony. He tucked her head under his and slept.

Their ship was a decommisioned Alliance freighter, captained by a cheerful man with a long brown fringe, and crewed by his extended family. After introducing himself as William Pugh and telling them what an honor it was to have them aboard, he showed them to their cabin and told them to just yell if they needed anything. "Intercom is a bit fickle, but she's not a big ship. There's always somebody in earshot." And with that bit of advice, he left.

"Well, it'll be an interesting flight." Shepard stretched and grimaced.

"Stiff again?"

"Yeah." She gave a sigh and dropped to the floor to start the exercises to keep her limber. Garrus watched for a few minutes, before turning to the infopacket for the mission. The first screen was a rundown on their destination.

"Those bastards," Garrus said softly. Shepard looked up from the floor, and he held out the datapad so she could see the name of the planet.

Erszbat, formerly of the Batarian Hegemony.