Disclaimer: Chapter one.

HEY

HEY LOOK

I UPDATED THIS LIKE RIGHT AFTER I UPDATED FRUIT LOOP

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING

"Commander, I highly advise against your current course of action. If you persist, my protocol demands I call Dr. Chakwas as well as some orderlies to force you to desist."

"EDI, what I'm doing here is nothing more extreme than a tattoo or some other surface-scarring body modification."

"From what my records indicate, such body modifications are usually performed with the proper instruments by trained personnel. I do not think you qualify under that, and the knife you are using is meant for plastic, not skin."

"It's sterilized, isn't it? I know what I'm doing."

When Shepard had originally withdrawn into her cabin, she was shaking with unused energy. She wanted to break things, swipe datapads off her desk, throw her clock and the stupidly-placed picture frame at the case of models, but was still annoyingly rational enough that she knew that the exertion and the collateral damage would be pointless. Instead, she leaned heavily over her desk and stared ahead, scowling at her own reflection in the glass of the case.

Miranda had before bragged about how she had successfully "finished" Shepard, down to the vat-grown derma-weave with no epidermic blemishes, something she was afraid she wouldn't have time to finish due to the increasing instances of Collector attacks. In fact, the only thing she seemed to regret was the lack of remote control in her brain per the Illusive Man's interference.

The idea of being a cyborg didn't bother Shepard. The knowledge she was but a step away from being a slave... she might get over that. Eventually.

This flaw of perfection, however, was simply not acceptable.

Shepard had been scarred by her past missions, the ones that set her apart from everyone else and shown what colors she flew, what mettle she was composed of. Those scars were war paint as much as warnings; they were signs that told people that if they crossed her, if they got stupidly close, they deserved what they got.

The sign was gone, and now people were dancing around her like the threat didn't mean a thing anymore. Maybe that was a coincidence, or all in her head, but even she was getting too used to the unbroken color of skin across her nose and face.

Then she spied the small, sharp knife she used for her models. It was used to shave off the extra bits of material around the edges to remove seams and let the adhesive have a nice, flat surface to settle. She decided it was a good instrument to erect a new warning and set to work.

Trying to draw out a new scar over the bridge of her nose like her last one was difficult, between the angle and how the sting made her eyes involuntary tear up, so she gave that up and went for her cheeks. Each thin swipe would expose the fascinating red glow of augmentations, however, those same augmentations closed up the wounds quickly before her eyes.

"I need a sealant to stop it." She walked back to her models and picked up the glue. "I wonder if this is toxic..."

"Commander, I am now requesting Dr. Chakwas and informing her of your behavior."

Shepard put down the tube and rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, EDI. The cuts are superficial."

"I understand that, Shepard. However, I am concerned about extreme behavior in reaction to stressful events, and I am to understand that cutting is considered extreme behavior."

She raised her brows at EDI. With how focused she had gotten on her face, she'd all but forgotten about Garrus; EDI's comment hit like a non sequitor. "It's not like I'm cutting to get the endorphins."

Regardless, Chakwas was called up, and Shepard had to go through the explanation again. The doctor seemed to understand, but still reprimanded her for doing something as potentially damaging as this to her body without proper training or equipment, and wasn't all that impressed with the sterilization measures Shepard had taken (not because they were incorrect, but because any soldier could do simple field medicine).

"Commander, just because a scar is a badge of honor doesn't mean you've lost the honor when you lost the scars," Chakwas huffed finally.

"Sure," Shepard was past arguing the point and held up her hands, coming to terms that she was just going to have to paint bloody hand-prints on her armor or something to make up for it. "I won't slash my face anymore."

"I'm glad we could come to an understanding. Now, since I have you, I think it's a good time to remind you of all the rest you've been neglecting. The Normandy is still en route, and I highly doubt the amount of reports you have now under Cerberus even approaches your old work load, especially with Ms. Lawson around."

"You may have a point." Shepard went to sit down on her couch. "If I promise to rest, would I be dismissed from your examination?"

"For now, but only as long as you keep your word. I'll have the AI keep tabs on you if need be."

"I'll be a perfect sloth until ETA approaches." If cabin-arrest was what was necessary to get the doctor out, then that was the necessary sacrifice. Luckily, it was enough, and she departed, leaving the commander alone in the loft at length.

She pulled up a display to get to working on the pattern painted on her armor. N7 stripe falling into a set of gory handprints and blood splatters, just as she promised herself. As she tried different palm placements, she thought over Garrus, over his father and the upcoming Parental Meeting, over the insubordination downstairs.

"EDI," she called out, almost engrossed to the point of distraction on the armor display, "If you don't mind, I'd like for you to pen up a message for me to a few contacts I have on Noveria, to see if they have anything needed to be taken care of while I'm in. I expect I'll be going there soon, and it never hurts to catch up with old friends."

"I've noticed that you haven't been on any missions, lately."

Garrus was going to have to get used to Kasumi popping out of nowhere like she does. She was worse than Shepard with the damn cloak and treated it like a toy. He managed to reign himself in before jumping out of his plates and gave the deadest-panned stare he could muster. "The commander has kept a fluid team rotation since the SR-1. My turn will come later."

"That may have been the case then, and maybe she doesn't bring you on every mission, but I'd say, oh, half would be a good measure. And you would certainly never be absent for several times in a row if all's well." She smiled. "Trouble in paradise?"

The dead-pan held. "I don't know what you're talking about." Not that his relationship with Shepard was a secret, but he wanted to keep things close to his chest until he worked this whole upset through.

"Hmm. You turians are so hard to read. I could never do well against your race on poker if I had to follow the rules."

"You know, playing against the rules too often defeats the purpose of the game."

"But finding ways around the rules is so much more fun," she countered cheerily, and flittered away in a shimmer of cloaking light.

Garrus sighed at the abrupt exit and went back to work, hoping in the back of his mind that it actually was an exit. Kasumi had been taking a special interest in whatever was going on between him and Shepard since she'd come aboard, but she mostly kept her knowing smirks to herself on the issue, outspoken as she could be. He supposed her good-natured snooping was as much her way of consoling people as anything.

Which was something; Mel avoided him like the plague these days. He wasn't sure if she was ashamed of his knowing what she did, or ashamed that she had dragged Garrus into and gotten him in trouble with his girlfriend.

Well, since he was bothered, anyway... "EDI, do you know when the commander has us set to go to Noveria?"

The blue ball blossomed from the console near the wall as it was accustomed. "We are currently en route to Noveria. ETA is in three hours and thirty-four minutes."

His eyes widened and his stomach sank. He was not ready to meet his father. Shepard hadn't so much as spoken to him since that day when it wasn't necessary, and any conversation about the cannon or other upgrades were strictly and coolly professional. It was more like talking to the clerk at a store he might frequent than talking to someone he was madly in love with.

And Kasumi was right; Shepard hadn't brought him on missions. This was a snag in his plan, because he had assumed (and taken for granted, apparently) that even if she was angry at him, she would relent at least to have him on the ground when tactics demanded his expertise. They worked together so well, and they felt each other so much on the battlefield, he was sure that he could get a strong reaction from her there. It may not be a positive reaction, but it would be a reaction.

She'd been bringing Legion, who now might as well have been her new best friend for how much time she spent with it, to fill his position. And Garrus couldn't even complain because Legion, as it turned out, was a perfect squadmate.

Though he still chuckled when she accidentally fired on him once; a learned reflex to seeing a geth.

But here he was, his plan floundering. Shepard was outmaneuvering him, and as soon as they touched down, there was no reason they wouldn't go straight to his father and Shepard inform him that the whole Parental Meeting was now and forever unnecessary. Not that he cared what status they were to his father's eyes, but Shepard was the type of person who stayed true to her convictions once they've been said.

"You are slated to go groundside with the commander," EDI had said, helpfully.

"Yeah, I know. Thank you, EDI."

"There are no other members she is bringing, and she has indicated a briefing is unnecessary. This is strange, as her itinerary is quite large and may include combat. May I inquire as to the reasoning?"

"The... itinerary is large? There should only be a meeting."

"Shepard has reestablished communication with prior contacts on Novaria, and they have expressed the need for assistance on various matters. The meeting I believe you're talking about is slated to be last."

"Last?" His harmonics were practically singing with relief. "And you said there are tasks that require combat?"

"I am unsure, but the likelihood of combat occurring during the stay I calculate to being at seventy-eight percent."

"With Shepard, I'm surprised it isn't higher."

"That has already been calculated into the probability."

When the Normandy had docked on Port Hanshan and Shepard had gone towards the airlock, she noticed that Garrus was already there, fully outfitted, and an expression on his plated face that was... a little eager, if she may be so bold.

She suppressed a smirk. He must've been crawling the walls in the Forward Battery. "Not taking you from your calibrations, am I?"

"Of course not, Commander. Most of the heavy work with the cannon has been finished."

"Mm," Shepard responded with calculated disinterest. As the scan worked, she remained silent. Garrus wasn't shifting around or anything, but the anxiety was wafting off him in waves. She pointedly ignored it and strode out as soon as the doors were open.

No sooner did their boots hit the ground than a figure approached. Garrus deflated noticeably.

"Jurian Vakarian," Shepard said in introduction, and offered a hand, "Glad to finally meet you in a less compromised position."

"Likewise, Commander. I had been waiting. Shall we get straight to business?"

"If you don't mind, sir, I have some other duties to attend to on Noveria as well. Some of my contacts have been working with me, and I believe I may even gather some more information on the Reapers for you."

"Really? Then allow me to accompany you."

"Dad," Garrus cut in and motioned towards the senior turians civvies, "You're not exactly... outfitted."

"I'm still armed. Honestly, Garrus, what sort of cop did you think I was?"

"The kind who slept in his armor. Standing up."

Jurian scowled at his son, and Shepard had to fake a cough to hide the laugh that wanted to bubble out of her, then glanced at her omni-tool.

"We're about to run late for our first meeting." She set off, expecting the men to follow. They did. "First we'll be meeting with Administrator Qui'in as a courtesy, then we'll be seeing Liliherax to see about some artifacts the geth left behind last time he scrounged up..."

"Are all of these people going to be turian? Are you trying to make a point, Shepard?" Garrus sighed.

"...and lastly Dr. Zev Cohen, who I would say you better be damn happy isn't going to be at Peak 15, but apparently turians like cold a lot more than they care to admit."

"Har."

Lorik Qui'in remained the oily sort of bastard he'd always been, but he was the sort that endeavored to be pleasant company. That didn't turn out to be the case, as soon as he saw Jurian.

"Commander Shepard, I understand that sometimes you will have very unlikely people on your side, but this-" He gestured at the man. "-is a former C-Sec executor, and when it comes to dealing with sensitive matters, can be... oh, how would I put this..."

"Thorough?" Jurian offered in amusement.

"That would be a much nicer way of saying what I was thinking. Anyway, welcome to my lovely port, my dear. You will be here only a short time, I suspect?"

"I won't be around long enough to step on your toes, Lorik. Just a few errands, a Parental Meeting, and I'm out of here."

"A Parental Meeting?" He looked over her entourage again, both in turn, then spread his mandibles in a wide smile. "I suspected he was related, but I didn't think Garrus Vakarian was your son, Jurian. Why do you never tell your old friends about your family?"

"'Old friends' is a much nicer way of saying what I was thinking," Jurian countered.

"How in the galaxy I didn't see the resemblance boggles the mind. Speaking of boggling the mind, don't you hate Spectres?"

"I have a lot of things to discuss with the commander later."

"The nicer way of putting it, I'm sure." He gave Shepard a once-over and nodded. "As it stands, my friend, welcome and be free to roam as much as you like so long as you roam as quickly as you can. You draw trouble to you like a magnet." Then he added as an afterthought. "But feel free to visit before you leave. Especially if the Meeting goes south." He stretched another grin. "I'd be very interested in the details."