Nearly the first thing Shepard did in the morning was check her messages.

Arrived safely. Miss you already. I'll be back soon. G.

She smiled to herself. He was not exactly a talkative correspondent, but he got the essentials across. Actually, she reflected, they hadn't had much opportunity to correspond. Those few weeks before the SR-1 went down, they'd exchanged casual messages, and there had been a couple of notes while she was under arrest, careful and bland because she knew all her mail was being screened.

But usually, if she had something to say to Garrus, she could just find him and say it. She sighed, feeling lonely.

She went through the rest of her messages and queued up all the necessary replies. There were a couple of issues she still needed to figure out... like what she was supposed to wear for this occasion. She headed out to track down Solana.

"Ugh, you do realize I've never done any of these things, right?" Solana said with a sigh. "I could help you mod your gun, if you want. I'd be better at that."

Shepard laughed. It hadn't really occurred to her that Solana was probably even less girly than she herself was. Whatever "girly" meant for a turian. "I can handle that myself. Or Garrus does it."

"Let's ask Cephia," Solana suggested. "At least she's been married."

Shepard frowned. "That won't be uncomfortable for her?"

"No, I'm sure she'll be glad to help."

According to Cephia, traditional garments for turian weddings were not a particular color or level of formality, but rather incorporated some kind of traditional knotwork. She got fairly enthusiastic about describing the technique, but the nuances were lost on Shepard.

"Plenty of people ignore traditions like that," Solana put in, probably reacting to Shepard's blank expression.

"Oh, but it's such lovely symbolism," Cephia said. "It's made of two kinds of thread, worked together to indicate two coming together."

"That does sound nice," Shepard said cautiously. "I'm just having trouble visualizing it."

"Well, I can tell you what to ask for when you go to the tailor." Cephia hesitated for a moment, and then brought up her omni-tool. "Here's what mine looked like."

In the picture, both Cephia and her husband were wearing clothes made of this dark blue stuff that Shepard still couldn't quite work out the details of. It seemed... fine, she supposed. She was more struck by the looks on their faces, leaning against each other with obvious happiness. "Thank you," she said quietly. "You both look so happy."

"Yes. We... were. That was ten years ago, now." Cephia looked over into the next room, where Pella was lining up her toy ships, carrying on some inaudible monologue. "He was a shuttle pilot. Shot down on Menae."

"I'm sorry," said Shepard, her guts clenching. She knew this same story was playing out all over the galaxy. Everyone had lost someone: a spouse, a parent, a child, a sibling, a friend, all because of the stupid, pointless, destructive Reapers. And because the rulers of the galaxy had ignored her warnings, downplayed the threat, deliberately concealed information... yes, she was still angry about the Temple of Athame. She tried to choke down the anger rising in her throat.

"He died with honor, doing his duty." Cephia's voice broke her out of her reverie. The turian woman stared in her daughter's direction, but didn't seem to be really seeing her. "That doesn't help as much as it should."

Awkwardly, Shepard patted her on the shoulder. Solana came over and laid her cheek against her cousin's, making a low trilling sound.

"Pella's a lot like him," Cephia said. "She wants to be a pilot, too. I just hope—"

"I hope we'll have peace for a good long time," said Shepard firmly. She decided to change the subject. "I've been meaning to ask why Pella doesn't have the same marks."

"Oh, children's markings are always simpler, and temporary," said Cephia. "She'll get the full adult set when she grows up and becomes an adult member of the family. She'll have to go through the same ritual you will."

"Oh... really? I guess I thought that was automatic."

"It's mostly a formality," said Solana. "It's pretty rare for adults not to accept a child of the family as an adult member. The kid would have to be one hell of a delinquent. I think in the old days it was a bigger deal."

#

Garrus was gone for a few days, and, strange though it was, Shepard actually got used to being the only human in a house full of turians. She even settled into a bit of a routine. She did her physical therapy dutifully and answered her messages when the daily burst came through. She found she was starting to doze a little in the afternoon when everyone else slept. She made friends where she could. The older relatives tended to be reserved, but she enjoyed hanging out with the younger ones, especially Solana and Aspera (who wasn't exactly younger, but... close enough). She offered to help Cephia with the chores, and when her help was refused, offered to look after Pella. She'd never really thought of herself as a kid person, but this kid was pretty pleasant company. Mostly she wanted to play with her toy ships and ask Shepard questions about all the ships she'd seen and served on. Shepard could handle answering questions and telling stories, and it was clearly a big relief for Cephia to have someone else keep an eye on her daughter. Even the evenings got better. Yes, Demetrus and a couple of the other older uncles started in on her about the krogan again, and eventually about the geth, but she found that if she redirected them just a little, they'd start arguing with each other instead of her. Some of them just liked to argue, period, she noticed.

She felt like she might be remembering how to relax, and of course it was just when she was starting to feel more relaxed and comfortable that Livia Vakarian decided it was time for a chat.

"Commander Shepard," she said, sweeping slowly into the sunny parlor where Shepard had settled down with a stack of things to read, and Shepard hastened to sit upright, scattering datapads around her.

She had no idea how to properly address the traditional great-aunt of your turian fiance, she realized, and settled for: "Ma'am?"

Livia sat in a chair with wide arms and a high back which immediately looked like a throne. "I think it is time we had a talk. Unless you are occupied, of course."

She was obviously not really busy. Shepard took a breath. I am goddamn Commander Shepard, she reminded herself. I am not going to let a cranky old turian lady intimidate me. "I have time." She ventured to add, "I appreciate your hospitality. It's very kind of you to have me, and to let us use the estate."

Livia folded her hands together. "It is no more than the proper behavior for a senior member of this family. Which is what we should discuss."

"All right," said Shepard cautiously.

"Exactly why is it that you wish to join this family? You are, I hope, aware that turian families, as collectives, have certain obligations to members."

"Yes, I'm aware." Shepard gathered her thoughts. "My own family has been gone for years. Garrus and I hoped that when we came together, that I would also become part of his larger family. I've also benefited as a family member. Garrus's father helped me when I was injured at the end of the war. I'd like to have the opportunity to give back." She'd thought carefully about this answer over the last few days. After her conversation with Tycus, it had seemed important to have a better response prepared.

"I see." Livia regarded her solemnly. "And why is it that you choose to pair with my great-nephew?"

And somehow Shepard wasn't prepared for this one. A number of extremely inappropriate responses ran through her head, ranging from none of your damned business to seriously, have you seen him? "That's a little personal, don't you think?" she countered, trying to buy herself some time. "His father didn't ask."

"Callex may do as he pleases. And so may you. You do not have to answer my question, Commander."

"Then why do you ask it?" Shepard snapped, letting her irritation show a little.

"Let me tell you how this looks to an outsider, Commander."

"All right," said Shepard, with an edge in her voice. "How does it look to an outsider?"

"It looks like a rather inappropriate tie between two people of disparate rank, one in direct command over the other. It looks like a possibly fetishistic association between two people of different species. It looks like a connection forged under conditions of great stress between one individual consistently noted for rash, headstrong, and impulsive behavior, and another individual known for making far-reaching decisions with little input from others. In short, it looks like a relationship unlikely to be stable in the long term."

Do not, Shepard told herself, do not rise to the bait. Slow, deep breaths. She tried hard to keep herself calm. It was difficult, over the sizzling rage. Do not attack your boyfriend's elderly relative. The idea was really tempting, nonetheless. But Livia was watching her dispassionately, and Shepard knew she was being judged.

Finally Shepard said, conversationally, "You know, humans would consider it offensive to say much of what you've just said. But let's leave that aside for now. You don't really know me very well. Not well enough to be able to judge my actions. And I don't think you know Garrus very well, either, family or not."

"What makes you say that?" Livia's face didn't betray any response at all.

"I've seen his file, and I know the reputation you're talking about. And Garrus says himself that he doesn't think he's a very good turian. But—" she leaned forward for emphasis, "—he is one of the best people I've ever known. I've never had a better friend. I don't know if you've ever had anyone in your life that you trusted completely, that you knew you could always rely on. Garrus has been that for me. I haven't always been able to be there for him, but I plan to change that in the future. I can't imagine anyone else as my partner in the rest of my life, and that is why I intend to marry him."

Livia continued to regard her impassively. "I see," she said. "Thank you for answering my question."

Shepard decided to get out before Livia could say anything else painful and embarrassing. "If you'll excuse me," she said, and departed before Livia had time to answer.

Her bad mood lingered, though, and she stalked through the house vacillating between several moods: indignation at what Livia had said, embarrassment at the sappy-ass speech she'd just spilled (even if all of it was true), and a paranoid fear that everyone else thought the same as Livia and was only being polite to her face. At length she found her way to a small courtyard and found Solana and Aspera in mid-conversation.

"Spirits, what happened?" Solana demanded on seeing her.

Shepard tried to control her scowl. "Your great-aunt cornered me."

"I told you she was a brat," said Aspera, reaching into her bag and producing a bottle of rum and glasses.

Solana asked, "Do you carry that everywhere?"

Aspera shrugged. "No, mostly just while I'm here."

An hour later, Shepard had drunk enough rum to feel a little fuzzy around the edges and had eventually spilled the whole exchange. It was comforting when Aspera and Solana assured her that not everyone thought her relationship was doomed to be a flash in the pan, even if some little part of her suspected they were just placating her. Damn. She was being kind of a melancholy drunk at the moment.

"I think… I want a nap," she announced.

Aspera grinned. "You might miss dinner," she pointed out.

Shepard scrunched up her face. "I don't want to go."

"It's probably better you don't go if you're drunk," said Solana. "Why don't you take that nap?"

"That is a brilliant idea," Shepard declared.

She got herself back to her room, flopped onto the bed, and didn't wake up until… she wasn't sure how long later. A few hours. She felt a lot more sober, and her head didn't even hurt that much. She took some aspirin anyway, and munched a ration bar she had stashed with her stuff, since she was pretty sure she had indeed missed dinner.

There was a knock at her door, and she hopped up to answer it. Probably Solana or Aspera coming to check on her. She still felt a little out of sorts. The bad mood faded into sheer delight once she had the door open, though.

"Garrus! When did you get back?"

"About ten minutes ago," he said with a grin. "Things wrapped up a little sooner than I thought, so I decided to head back."

She stepped forward and wound her arms around his neck. "Do you have any idea how happy I am to see you?"

He put on his serious face. "No, I have no idea. You might have to show m—mph."

"That happy," Shepard said, a little while later, letting him out of the kiss she'd yanked him into.

"Good to know," he drawled back.

"I nearly killed your aunt Livia today."

"It wouldn't be the first time someone's wanted to."