A/N: Takes place after Garrus's rescue. Fancy. As a side note, thanks to Reklar for the help editing.

Garrus would make it. Chakwas herself rushed off the Normandy with a stretcher and a half dozen marines in tow more or less as soon as I radioed for help. Hell, she had a helmet on, her red cross brassard, a huge medical bag and a sidearm when I saw her charging past the bodies of all those mercs. I had a pressure bandage over Garrus's mangled face, trying to keep the fear down, trying not to kill him by accident while Jacob covered the front and Jack covered the stairs. She shouted to us as she all but vaulted the barricades. I had never seen her like that.

I breathed in another lungful of steamy, hot air, and checked myself for any blue blood I missed before turning off the shower. It was an honest-to-God water shower, one of the perks on the new Normandy. I toweled myself off as music played across the room. I recognized it dimly, in the back of my head. Verdi's Anvil Chorus played on as I rubbed my head furiously with the towel. I wanted to pass out, but I couldn't. I had things to do. I sighed, hung the towel on the bar. I was halfway to my locker when I heard a chime over my music.

"Commander."

"What is it, EDI?"

"You have been awake approximately twenty hours without stimulants. Medical regulations state that barring contact with the enemy, it is required you obtain at least six hours of sleep. You are already over the allotted limit."

"Thanks EDI, I have a couple more things to do."

"Yes, Commander."

I sighed to myself, opened my locker. Atop a pile of olive-drab fatigues was a note.

Commander,

The crew has taken the liberty of providing you with your uniform, with rank and achievement tabs, as per your memo. Your boots are under your night table.

Midshipman Rolston

I had no idea that Rolston was a midshipman. I had treated him as a mid-level NCO instead of a junior officer...who had probably mustanged himself. I bent down, and pulled a set of brightly brush-shined jump boots up, already laced. It put me in a slightly better mood. What really got me smiling was putting on the fatigues. I felt like a soldier again- purpose, objectives, pride. Rolston had outdone himself, as well: I had rank slip-on in the center of my shirt, a maroon beret with my old unit's cap badge, and my special forces and drop tabs sewn onto my shoulder. Hell, there were even boot bands tucked into the pockets.

I hit the elevator feeling like a new man, despite the bags under my eyes. I smoothed my beret into place on the ride down to the CIC. Stepping out, I heard that familiar bark:

"Commander on the deck!"

"At ease, ladies and gentlemen."

Kelly turned around, still wearing her Cerberus whites. She had a black beret on, with no insignia. Smiling, she extended a pad towards me.

"Commander. New intelligence on Okeer and Tali. Miranda and Jacob are waiting for you in the briefing room."

"Alright. Anything else happening?"

"Garrus came out of surgery about an hour ago," she said slowly, staring at me. "Are you alright? I know he's one of your best friends."

I nodded, looking at the pad.

"I'll be fine as long as he makes it. Is that all?"

"Yes, Commander."

I gave her my best smile. In the background, men and women in green fatigues walked around the deck. There were a couple of different shades of beret, the odd person in Cerberus uniform. I looked at Kelly as I turned, stopped.

"Kelly, why didn't you get a set of greens?"

She looked at her shoes, then back up at me. She was blushing a little.

"I didn't know how to wear them. I don't feel like I've earned them."

It was almost cute. I smiled at her.

"Well, if you feel that way, then don't request the new uniform. But, then again, I'd change before you go see Jack."

"Good point, Commander," she managed through a grin, "but you'd better get going before the Ice Queen tears a strip off of Jacob just for fun."

I gave her a grin and a wave, walked back towards Mordin's lab. I was still getting used to not having marines posted regularly around the ship. It gave me chance to know my men, I guess. Stop and talk to them, that sort of thing. I saw Mordin, and had barely opened my mouth when he looked at me and said, "Shepard. Miranda impatient. Perhaps best not to keep her waiting."

I shrugged, kept on walking. So much for a distraction.

They were sitting and twiddling their thumbs when I came through the door. Jacob stood, and we traded salutes. Miranda watched, a fraction of a smile on her lips. I took a seat at the head of the big oak table, looked at both of them.

"Sir," Jacob started, "We were wondering how Garrus is doing. Think he'll be ready to fight?"

"I certainly hope so," Miranda said quietly. "I haven't seen anyone that badly hurt in...in quite awhile, Commander."

"Chakwas is the best," I told them as much as myself, "He'll be on his feet in no time."

"Alright, so Garrus might be out of the fight for a little-"

The door hissed.

"Thought I heard my name, Commander."

He was mangled, to put it gently. A mess of bandages and metal lined one side of his neck and the lower right part of his face. He limped through the door, and even though he was trying to smile, it wasn't working. It wasn't hard to tell he was in a hell of a lot of pain, but Garrus is a hard bastard. He was up and walking after getting shot in the face, what more could I ask? So I walked over, trying to smile, and shook his hand. It was damn good to see him.