Shepard wondered how long it was since her last shower as the cascade of hot water fell on her. In case there wouldn't even be a next time, she decided to relish this chance as much as she could. She loved showers; time that was just to herself, being able to forget everything, her world shrinking to just the stall.

It was over too quickly. In a blink, she was dry and dressed, following Liara to the common area from yesterday.

Garrus was already in the room, sitting on one of the oddly shaped seating furniture—couches, Shepard supposed. There was a small table in front of him, on top of which was what looked like a medical kit. Liara nodded to Garrus—who returned it—and gestured to Shepard to go ahead. Shepard stepped forward as Liara turned to leave.

Shepard stopped in front of Garrus, the table with the kit in between them. She glanced at it before moving her gaze towards Garrus. What she saw surprised her. He looked… Sheepish. He was rubbing the back of his neck, as if unsure of what to say. A moment passed before he asked how she was doing.

"I'm fine, just some bruises," she replied.

Garrus winced a bit at her reply. "I got a bit carried away. I shouldn't have taken it out on you." Shepard stared back silently. Garrus sat up straight. "Regarding the incident at lunch, just know that she was acting on her own, but that's all I can say about that."

Shepard just nodded. One sort-of-apology from the enemy was enough. Besides, an apology on behalf of that female turian would probably be meaningless.

Garrus motioned to the kit on the table. "Liara mentioned that you wanted a translation implant."

Shepard raised a brow at him. "Shouldn't she be doing this?"

Garrus, however, was already reaching into the kit and extracting a metallic tubular object. He settled back onto the couch. "It won't hurt." He paused and looked at the applicator in his hand, as if considering it, what it did and how, for the first time. "Well, no more than what you're used to, I'm sure."

Shepard had to bite her cheek to stop from smiling. What the hell did she find so amusing about his expression anyway? There was just something so disarmingly—yet awkwardly—charming about this turian. If he had been human, she knew of a few ladies, and possibly a couple of gentlemen, who'd be spilling their guts and every Alliance military secret right about now.

An exaggeration, of course.

Taking her hesitation for apprehension, he quickly added: "It's really tiny, you won't even see or feel it." Maybe he's a brilliant interrogator, but at least he's no mind reader, thank God. Shepard waved her hand dismissively. "That's not it."

"Ah," he said, scratching a mandible. "It's not bugged either. We have a couple lying around from some Alliance ships we, uh, caught. You can check the seal." He handed it over to Shepard over the table. After a short inspection to confirm the seal was indeed authentic Alliance, and intact, she handed it back. "Do you still want it?"

It beat the lag or hearing the translation in only one ear. "Sure."

"Have a seat, please," he said, gesturing to the empty spot beside him. She stood still for a moment, a slight frown on her face, but eventually made her way around the table to sit on the "couch" next to him, leaving a generous gap in between them. Before turning her back to him, she gave him a look warning him not to try anything.

In reply, Garrus gave her what she assumed was a reassuring smile. Perhaps he was trying for a human approximation of one because it definitely did not look reassuring to her. She sighed and turned her back to him, tucking a leg to sit sideways on the couch.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to stab you or anything," Garrus finally said. Shepard could hear him preparing the applicator behind her. Without turning, "Aren't you though?"

That got a chuckle out of the turian. "You got me there, Shepard." He scooted closer to her, until she felt his leg press behind her. "What I meant was, you don't need to worry about me harming you," he continued, putting his hand on her neck, and adding softly:

"I need you alive."

His proximity, the low rumble of his voice and the turian flanging caused an involuntary shiver to creep up Shepard's spine. Another followed when his fingers brushed against her ear to pluck the translation device Liara had given.

Garrus gently pressed his hand against that side of her head to make her lean against the back of the couch. She tensed when his hand skirted along her neck, his fingers moving to grasp her hair. He murmured something in his language as he brushed it aside.

The low tones that rumbled in his chest, which, accompanied by flanging, made her think of purring. She nearly pointed out that he reminded her of a cat, but remembered where she was and just who was touching her hair. She tensed up even more.

The hand threaded in her hair withdrew and gently rested on her shoulder. A few seconds passed in silence, until Shepard realized he was giving her time to relax and reconsider the implant. That one simple gesture spoke more than words.

Shepard t gave a slow nod to indicate that she was ready. She tilted her head to rest it again on the couch. This time, she pushed her own hair aside and held it in place.

Garrus softly huffed in acknowledgment behind her. He rested the side of his hand on her cheek and the other behind her ear to steady them. Shepard felt something cold touch the soft concave area of skin on her neck behind her earlobe, then a small pinch. He slowly let her go and got up, moving to sit in front of her. Shepard quickly turned around, resting her head on the back of the couch again, her hair gathered to the side.

Another pinch. He murmured something again and slipped his hand between her head and the couch to tilt her head back up to its neutral position. His fingers tangled in her hair in the process, softly scratching her scalp. Shepard reluctantly conceded that it felt good.

Shepard turned to sit with her back against the couch while Garrus waved his omni-tool over her head and typed a few commands. "Done." It was a bit odd hearing just his translated words. The flanging was still there, but it all felt new, since she had gotten used to the lag.

Garrus leaned forward toward the coffee table to pack up the kit, then sat back next to her and stared up at the skylight. Neither said anything for a minute or two until Shepard gave him a sidelong look, deciding to break the silence. "What's the agenda for today?"

A couple of seconds passed before he tilted his head to look at her. "Aren't you tired of all this?"

Though she initially thought he was referring to the interrogations, his tired look indicated it was something else. The idea, and therefore the question, surprised her, especially as she had the same sentiments. "The war?"

He nodded. "It's all we both know. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if it ended earlier. Right now, instead of sitting as enemies, could we be sharing drinks." He paused. "Well, not the same kind of drink of course."

"Maybe."

Shepard turned her head to take a full look at him, allowing herself to believe, just for that moment that he was not the enemy. What would it be like? Would they have been allies? Friends? Would they have fought side by side? Right now, would they be sharing war stories, recounting past missions, or would they be toasting to the fallen?

She sighed and turned her gaze upward as well. They sat in silence, each lost in thought. Shepard frowned. At the rate both sides were going, they may never find out.