Shepard had been called off to help train new recruits for the Alliance for three weeks, which left Garrus playing the role of stay-at-home dad. Not that he minded in the least; he'd had little enough time to spend with Maya between working with the remaining refugees and the rebuilding efforts that were still going strong nearly seven years after the Reaper War ended. He and Shepard had decided, after a lot of deliberation, to find a human sperm donor who looked the way they thought he would if he'd been human, which resulted in a little girl who had her mother's hair and bird-like features, but had blue eyes like his. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off her after she was born, and had taken on night-time duty for the first three months before he returned to work because Shepard needed the rest, but also because those quiet moments in the small hours of the morning spent rocking her back to sleep were something he treasured and looked forward to.

It was hard to believe she was in kindergarten already—five years old and already so smart. She had a way of speaking that made her sound older than her years and tended to be a happy, if soft-spoken, child. Which was why the call from her principal had come as such a surprise; she wouldn't give any details over the phone, just that there had been an incident and could he come as soon as possible?

The school, which had been remarkably unscathed, had at one time been populated entirely by humans but in the aftermath of the destruction of the mass relays, some of the soldiers who had fought in the war had stayed behind on Earth. Now, their children attended school together; the cultural differences were there, but not insurmountable, and it was good to see everyone working together and getting along. Shepard had truly changed the way the different species of the galaxy viewed each other, a legacy that would live on long after they were gone.

Garrus reached the school and got more than a few side-long glances from the teachers and outright stares from the children (at least they were honest in their gawking, he thought)—it wasn't every day they got to see the most recognizable turian in the galaxy, after all. He tried not to be intimidating, but a scarred and obviously battle-hardened man such as himself could hardly help it. Most of the kids in Maya's class knew him, though, and waved enthusiastically from the playground.

He made his way to the principal's office, the placard on the open door engraved with the words, "Dr. Carla Andrews, Ed.D."

"Ah, Mister Vakarian," Dr. Andrews said, rising from her seat to shake his hand. Before her desk were five chairs; three of them were occupied by a tall boy, maybe nine or ten years old and sporting a black eye, between his parents, and Maya sat to their left, her little legs kicking idly. She peered up at him as he sat down next to her and gave him a shy smile.

"Hi, daddy," she mumbled.

"Hey, punkin," he said. "You okay?"

"Yeah."

Dr. Andrews cleared her throat and, once she had everyone's attention, said, "I'm sorry we all had to meet like this, but we had an incident in the cafeteria today that needs to be addressed. One of our teachers saw Maya stand up on her chair and punch Liam in the face," she said, gesturing at the boy.

Liam's parents looked over at Maya with disapproval clear on their faces, and Garrus was shocked. "She wouldn't have just hit him unprovoked. Did anyone see if anything happened before that?"

Liam's mother scoffed. "If you're suggesting my son 'provoked' a little girl into hitting him . . ."

"Now, now, let's keep this civil," Dr. Andrews said. "To answer your question, Mister Vakarian, no one saw if anything happened beforehand, but I'm afraid our rules are clear—we have zero tolerance for violence of any sort and must, unfortunately, suspend Maya from school for one day."

Garrus shoved down all the angry retorts that bubbled up at the principal's words and instead turned to Maya. "Honey, why did you punch that boy?"

"He calls me names and knocks down my lunch."

"What kind of names does he call you?"

She looked down at her feet and her voice was quiet when she said, "Barefaced."

His hand clenched the arm of the chair so hard the wood creaked, and Dr. Andrews inhaled sharply. She looked nervous, and Garrus brought himself back under control. "Why didn't you say anything to me or mom?"

"I wanted to do it all by myself," she said, and his heart swelled with pride. She looked up at him, her eyes red-rimmed and tears on her round cheeks. Garrus smoothed her hair out of her eyes and smiled, then turned back to the principal.

"What will you do about the boy?" he asked.

"No one saw him do anything to her," said Dr. Andrews, "and without proof, our hands are tied. I'm sorry." And to her credit, she really did look contrite.

Garrus sighed and stood up, taking Maya's tiny hand in his own. "I understand, and I'll talk to her about this."

"I appreciate your cooperation, Mister Vakarian."

As they were leaving, Liam's mother—who looked very offended—said, "I think Maya should apologize to my son."

"Why?" he asked, incredulously.

"Why? She punched him," the woman huffed.

"And now you know why. I think your son should apologize to my daughter for bullying her."

"My son wouldn't do anything like that. She must be lying."

Garrus growled through clenched teeth, "My daughter is not a liar." At the woman's shocked expression, he calmed down just enough to say, "I can see where Liam gets it from, though. You might want to worry about your own parenting skills before you judge anyone else." He turned to Dr. Andrews, who was trying not to look so pleased that he had said exactly what was on her mind. "If there's anything I need to sign, you can send it home with Maya."

"I'll do that. Take care."

"You do the same."

He and Maya walked out to the car and she sat silently next to him as they made their way back to the house. After a minute or so, she asked, "Daddy, are you mad at me?"

"What? No, baby." He patted her hand and smiled. "I'm proud of you—you stood up for yourself. I wish you had told me about what was happening, though."

"I know."

"Hey, don't worry about it." He chucked her under the chin and she giggled. That sound never failed to make him melt; he was putty in her hands, and he was thankful she was too young to know how to exploit that yet. He'd have to watch himself when she got to be a teenager. "I've got a surprise for you when we get home."

Maya sat on the sink, her face serene and her eyes closed. Garrus was amazed that she'd managed to sit still for this long, but fifteen minutes later she was still patiently waiting for him to finish. He stood back a bit and, satisfied, said, "Okay, you can look now."

Maya turned around and stared in the mirror in awe, touching the blue paint on her face. Garrus leaned down and put his head next to hers and she traced the markings on his mandibles, then smiled widely.

"I look just like you!" she said and threw herself at him, slipping her arms around his neck. He picked her up and hugged her tight, and she planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

"So," he said, bouncing her around a little and making her giggle, "what do you want to do today?"

"Go get ice cream!" she yelled and her fist shot up in the air.

"Maybe after dinner. How about we take a picture of you and send it to mom? I bet she'd love to see how pretty your new face paint looks."

"'Kay!" She tried to wiggle out of his arms so he put her down and she sprinted off to the living room, and Garrus followed, smiling contentedly to himself.