Moving Day

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Many changes lie ahead, but not all change is bad. Shepard/Garrus, post-ME3.

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Disclaimer: This author in no way profits from the writing of this story. All characters, dialogue, or other referenced material from the Mass Effect trilogy belongs to Bioware.

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It was moving day.

I stood on the steps to survey my room, feeling a little wistful. The Normandy had been my home for the past few years, and leaving it was going to be difficult. I'd become attached to this ship. It had seen me through good and bad times, and it was hard to put it in someone else's hands.

But I was tired. Tired of being a hero, tired of saving the galaxy. I had earned a break.

Of course, no one else had planned on my retirement. The Council had grudgingly offered me Udina's spot after seeing what I had done to unite the races during the war. Somehow, I don't get the impression they would approve of my methods. I doubt they were too disappointed when I turned them down.

An offer not so easily rejected was the one I received from the Alliance. A promotion, and permanent command of the Normandy. I loved this ship. The idea of staying was appealing, but I had already made my decision.

A third offer had been made, of retirement somewhere warm and tropical, a house with a beach, my own private paradise. A promise of peace and happiness with someone I loved.

When I heard the door to my cabin open, I didn't have to look to see who it was. There was only one person who didn't knock.

Garrus came up behind me, putting an arm around my waist. "Ready to go?"

A hint of a smile crossed my face. "Almost," I answered. I had been delaying packing for a while, though I hadn't wanted him to know it. I didn't want to admit how hard it was for me to leave.

His grip tightened around me slightly, as if he instinctively knew. "The Normandy's been good to us," he said.

"Yeah." I knew what was coming would be better, but that still didn't make it easy.

Garrus moved past me to pack my armor, the beautiful new armor bought by my crew as a gift while I was in recovery. Definitely better than flowers and get-well cards. He spoke up as he opened the matching case, designed to be a perfect fit. "So I've got a human culture question," he began, picking up my helmet.

"Hit me," I responded, moving to my bedside table to empty the drawers.

"Well, I was wondering how human marriages work," he said, and his question stopped me short. In spite of his attempt to seem nonchalant, the question was clearly anything but casual.

He didn't look up at me as I turned to him, crossing my arms. "Garrus, is this your idea of a proposal?" I asked, both amused and a little nervous.

His mandibles flared, and he finally met my eyes. "No…" he drew out. "I was just… feeling you out about it. And not doing a very good job of it, apparently."

A hint of a smile crossed my face—I always found it cute when he got awkward like this. "You could have just asked me," I said with a shrug, trying to hide my smile.

"Turians take marriage very seriously," he explained. "It's considered a big commitment and responsibility. We mate for life."

"What don't turians take seriously?" I asked wryly, and even he couldn't hold back a laugh.

"Not much," he admitted with a shrug. "I just wanted to know if we were on the same page."

He turned back to packing my armor, and I returned to emptying my drawer, thinking about what he had asked, and what he hadn't. After a moment, I spoke up. "To answer your question, marriage is like every other issue with humans. Everyone has a different opinion. Some couples don't want to marry, some do. Divorce is pretty common, but some stay together their whole lives," I explained. That was simplifying the issue, but it could easily take all day to explain all the nuances of human opinions.

Garrus closed the armor case, all the pieces now packed away. He came over to me, stopping my movements with a hand on my arm, and turned me around gently to face him. "What about you?" he asked, his voice low. My heart started racing, and I wasn't quite sure why.

I took a deep breath. "Garrus, I want to be with you for the rest of my life," I said softly, reaching up to touch his scars, my reminder of how lucky I was to still have him. "If you want to marry me, I'll be honored, but you don't have to do that to keep me happy. I already have everything I need. I have you."

When he was quiet for a moment, I worried that my answer had disappointed him. He reached up to push my hair away from my face, studying me in that way he sometimes did. I watched his eyes search my face until they came to meet my own.

He cleared his throat. "Turians can't really get down on one knee, and I don't have a ring like they do in the vids—"

"I don't wear jewelry," I interrupted softly. I couldn't keep a smile off my face from his endearing fumbling. He always tried so hard to make me happy, to make every moment perfect. He didn't realize that, to me, it already was.

"Garrus…" I said gently, "just ask me."

Silently, he took both my hands in his. "Well, Shepard?" he finally asked. "Will you make an honest turian out of me?"

I squeezed his hands in consent. "Of course I will," I told him, smiling.

Wrapping his arms around me, he kissed me amidst the packed-up remains of the last few years of my life. And though I was sad to leave that life behind, the promise of better things lie ahead. I was sure of it.

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