I thought that Garrus might need another minute, but he seemed determined not to let a silence build. He turned away from the wall and back to the table, flexing his fingers and cracking a knuckle as he did so.

"When we got back, most of the crew had left. Even Joker. Shepard had called in that shore leave and unlike Omega, people actually felt reasonably safe outside the ship. I deposited my purchase in it's appropriate place and headed for the main battery. I didn't have to wait too long."

Garrus tapped idly at this console, facing away from the door when it swished open.

"Head's up."

He spun just in time to catch a heavy piece of metal against his chest. He held it out and examined it. A long metal cylinder. Universal connector at the end. Smooth bore through the center. Solid polysteel alloy. A top-of-the-line barrel extension for a Mantis-class collapsible sniper rifle.

He flared his mandibles out. "You shouldn't have."

"Like it?" Shepard smiled and walked up alongside him, leaning against the console.

"Love it." He smiled right back. "How about you?"

She smirked. "Where do you think I've been for the last hour?"

Garrus tilted his head. "Didn't think it would take you so long, considering the other models you have up there."

"You of all people should know that the Normandy SR-1 is a very complex ship."

He chuckled. "Of course."

She took a deep breath and stared out the open door. The open mess and the small galley were unoccupied. Most of the crew were still out for their one night of shore leave.

"About what I said earlier."

"Already forgotten."

Shepard glanced at him, then away. A bit too quickly. Still, there was palpable relief in her voice.

"Good."

Whatever tension had built between them seemed to ebb away. Garrus couldn't help but try and steer things back toward familiar waters.

"So is this a, uh. What do your people call it? An olive branch?"

Shepard grinned. "A weapon mod kind of goes against the spirit of the phrase."

He hummed thoughtfully. "Models of warships too, then?"

"Guess so."

"Well we've just fucked this whole thing up, haven't we."

She laughed and Garrus felt every little knot in his body uncoil.

"We'll muddle through somehow," she said with a smile.

This time Garrus was content to let the quiet linger. He stared out at the empty crew deck. Felt Shepard stir a little next to him, crossing her arms. Listened to the hum of the drive core, distant but audible.

"Probably going to be down here a lot over the next few days."

She was forcing lightness into her tone. He reciprocated. "Oh?"

He turned and found the smile almost gone from her face. She looked tired. Something in the lines around the skin of her eyes.

"Got a message from Hackett. After tomorrow, we're setting course for Alchera."

Alchera? Where did he know that -

Oh.

Her face, her name, two dates and a hyphen. Anderson's face and the look in his eye, bleeding heart worn on his sleeve. 'Thought you should hear it from me.'

Garrus had wrapped both his hands around the barrel and twisted. He brought himself back to the here and now. Where she needed him.

"Personal favor," she continued. She wasn't looking at him. "Still twenty crewmen classified as MIA. Try and recover their tags, place a survey marker for some kind of memorial."

She took another deep breath, chest and shoulders heaving slightly.

"Shepard," he began haltingly. "You don't have to. Right away. It can wait if you need time."

Her eyes found his and he almost flinched. He quickly realized this wasn't the same as their talk about the nature of her self. This was very different. This was death, hers and her crew's and the Normandy's and all that came with it. Her eyes reflected a potent kind of loss that he was unprepared for.

But he had asked her to open up and she had. That knowledge kept him steady, gave him strength.

"It did," she said. He blinked. "I got the message weeks ago. Before Horizon."

Shepard pushed herself off the console and wandered out of the battery before he could say anything. "Talk to you later, Garrus."

"I'll be here," he said before the doors closed behind her.

Garrus looked down at this hands, at the barrel still cradled in his fingers. He wandered over to the crate that served as his stool and his footlocker and sat. He took off his gloves and twisted the barrel idly in his hands, feeling the texture and the weight of it.

Solid. Strong. Real.

He spun around and promptly set to work attaching it to his rifle.

Garrus looked down at his hands. He opened his mouth then closed it. He tried to speak and it seemed to catch in his throat. He brought his laced hands up to his mouth, dull talons gleaming slightly in the sunlight.

After another moment of hesitation, Sorono slowly pushed himself out of his chair.

"Think that's my cue," he said with a sigh, reaching out and collecting the pack of cigarettes from the table (nearly empty) and his jacket from the seat next to him.

Garrus looked up, startled. "You sure?"

Sorono looked down at the dull brownish-red coat in his hands. He shrugged and started to put it on. "Got my good story."

The Primarch blinked and huffed. "Which one?"

He shrugged again, one arm through a sleeve, mandibles flaring out into a wide smile. "Take your pick."

Garrus stood as he pulled on the other sleeve, and so did I. It was tailored for his large ridged collar, and with the color, reminded my of something ancient Earth aviators would wear.

Sorono turned his gaze to me and put a hand up to his temple in a little two fingered salute. "Was a pleasure, ma'am. Lookin' forward to the book. Wouldn't want to spoil it."

I stuck my hand out and smiled genuinely. "I'll see that you get a copy, sir."

He glanced down and chuckled. "No callin' me sir," he said as he shook my hand. "I still work for a living."

His grip was more gentle than firm. He smirked in that turian way I had come to recognize.

"Now if you ever want to write a book about my life..."

I giggled, almost snorted. "We'll see."

Garrus walked around the table, gestured to the door. "I'll see you out."

"Gotta make sure I'm gone, huh," he said, sauntering casually. I followed close behind. It seemed only polite to see him out too.

"Don't want you skulking around outside. The neighbors would call the cops."

Sorono laughed and it sounded as rough and harsh as every other sound he made. It devolved in a brief coughing fit, which sounded even less pleasant.

Garrus raised a hand up behind his friend's back. "You okay?"

He waved him off dismissively, hand moving away from his mouth. "Fine. Nothing to worry about."

The Primarch looked skeptical. Sorono shot him a look and moved towards the front door. He keyed it open and sun poured in from high in the sky. Everything looked a little bit greener after the rain.

Sorono turned and met Garrus' gaze. He actually looked a little awkward for the first time I'd ever seen.

"Thanks for letting me in."

Garrus stared. His mandibles twitched, flaring outward and in, a brief smile.

"You're always welcome."

He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and nodded, amber eyes flashing.

"Vakarian."

"Sartorus."

And without another word between them, Sorono Sartorus turned and left. We stood by the door until we lost sight of him in the trees.