My head-canon doesn't follow any of the canon endings. Just FYI.

"Creator Zorah, are you feeling well?"

She turned sharply to Var. The geth stood right next to her, she hadn't even heard him come into her office.

"Keelah, you startled me!"

"Apologies, Creator Zorah."

"I have also asked you to call me Tali."

"I know. Twice this cycle. I am yet trying to process this level of familiarity. Tali."

She smiled. It had been strange, at first, to hear the geth make all those assertions of individuality. The singular pronouns, the names. They had a tendency to go for short names, they were, after all, highly pragmatic.

"Why are you asking about me?"

"I can now predict quarian emotional cues with 78% accuracy," Var said, and Tali thought there may have been something almost like pride, not in his voice, but in the way he said it. Or maybe she was just projecting. It had become hard to tell. "You appeared to be unhappy."

"I was just lost in memory," she admitted. "It's a metaphor," she added quickly.

"I know. Is it appropriate for me to inquire further?"

"I was thinking about my old crew and how I haven't had much time in the last months to contact any of them."

"Creator Zorah has been working far more than the average quarian. Even her status as admiral does not generally demand this level of commitment."

"Are you worried about me?"

"I do not worry, Tali. I merely wish to ensure that..." a moment of hesitation, "...you can function at optimum level." For some reason the adoption of the second person singular appeared to be harder than the first, Tali had noticed. "In order to do so, you may want to partake in more recreational activities."

"I appreciate the thought, Var, but my work is too important right now."

"If it would help, I could attempt to contact your former crew members."

She blinked.

"Oh no. It would not be right, Var. This is something very personal. It should not be delegated."

"Very well, Tali."

A part of her knew perfectly well why she was putting off contacting anyone and had thrown herself into work instead. She felt guilty. She was a member of the quarian admiralty board. Her people held her in incredibly high esteem for helping Shepard broker peace with the geth. They had just reclaimed their homeworld, after nine months and several breakthroughs in bio-engineering, Rannoch's first crops were ready to be harvested. Most quarians had abandoned their helmets already, and even though the exosuits still felt natural and safe and familiar, a wide variety of new materials and styles were being experimented with. And with all the change, with their minds less preoccupied and more ressources to spare, and with the strange new relationship they had to navigate with the geth, they were on the brink of a cultural renaissance, too.

So why did she want to leave?

'Spacesickness', they called it, tongue-in-cheek. It turned out you could actually miss a state of diaspora. But that wasn't really what she missed.

There were friends who she should be grieving with. Shepard's death had left an emptiness inside her she'd never anticipated. Rannoch was so damn far away from everywhere else. And there was...

There was...

Him.

But she had known it would always be her duty to come here once the war was won.

Duty. Why was she thinking about it as if it were an obligation, a burden? How could she be so unappreciative?

. . .

He was happy, most of the time. Busy, too. Rebuilding Palaven was a major undertaking. He did not quite know why he was still being asked for input by the Primarch, perhaps it was simply that once you were on the inside of the body political, you didn't get out easily. He was closer to his father and sister than he had ever been. Sol had come around when she'd realised what it was he had done all those years and stopped being angry with him for not being there during their mother's illness. His father was simply proud of him, and he would not admit to anyone how much this meant to him. He was slowly getting over Shepard's death. It helped to talk to Liara. They did talk a lot. She was due in a few months. She hadn't told anyone else but him and her father. The matriarch was not too happy with Liara becoming a mother that young, it was very rare, though not unheard of, and as Garrus understood it, there might be complications. But if Liara was anything, it was headstrong, unwavering once she'd made up her mind, and she had loved Shepard more than anything. Aethyta knew it and refrained from any more criticism, and was instead determined to be the best midwife Liara could get. It drove Liara mildly insane.

"Have you heard anything from her?"

"Still nothing," Garrus admitted, with a twinge somewhere deep inside him.

"Me, neither. Well. She didn't reply to the messages I tried to send. Communication with Rannoch is still tricky, so many com stations damaged, she probably didn't get anything. My sources say she's doing fine, though, Rannoch's doing very well."

"I'm glad," he said lowly.

"Liar."

"No, I am glad. We knew we'd both... But I wish she'd get in contact." He found it inappropriate to complain to Liara, of all people, about missing his former lover and changed the subject, earning himself a knowing, slightly sad look from the asari.