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In the morning, Garrus got up, excited to plan a special date for Shepard.

She stretched luxuriously beneath the sheets. "You sure you don't want to come back to bed? That's pretty special."

"Not arguing the point … but no. I have things to do. And weren't you going to try to drag Cortez off the Normandy?"

"I was—but I could be talked out of it."

"Nothing doing, Shepard. This tendency of yours toward sloth and lying around naked in bed is very appealing, but we have things to do."

She sighed, throwing the covers off, displaying every curve of her muscular body. "If you're sure—"

Garrus was very far from being sure. He backed away, grasping the doorframe to keep himself from leaping on her and having his way with her. "Positive," he said, in a high, squeaking voice. He could hear her laughing all the way down the stairs.

He'd been considering what to do ever since he'd mentioned the idea to her. What he most wanted to do was ridiculous—but he found he couldn't get the idea out of his mind. So he had booked several hours of ballroom dancing lessons. It was difficult at first, but his martial arts training stood him in good stead, allowing him to understand the ways his body was supposed to move and to fall into the rhythm of the music. By lunchtime, he had it down pretty well. Whether he could properly lead someone as rhythm-challenged as Shepard was another question entirely … but they managed a pretty good rhythm in the bedroom, if he did say so himself, and it seemed like a similar concept.

After lunch, he called ahead and booked a reservation at a nice restaurant—in his own name, so Shepard could have a chance at being anonymous for a change. Then he had some shopping to do. He called ahead on his comm link, catching Shepard breathless and chuckling.

"What's going on?"

"Which time?"

"Oh, it's been that kind of day, has it?"

"Cortez took me for a wild skycar ride, then Javik and I were in the next Blasto movie."

"No! Really?"

Shepard laughed. "I'll tell you the whole story later. What's up with you?"

"Just wanted to tell you to meet me at the casino bar at 7. Wear something fancy."

"That's a tall order."

"I'm a tall turian." He clicked off the link on her groan at his bad joke, chuckling to himself. He took his time with the shopping, waiting until Shepard, always punctual, had left the apartment before slipping in and making some quick preparations before he changed and followed her to the bar.

He was glad he had asked her to go first, because he got the opportunity to come up the stairs and see Zia Shepard in all her beauty waiting at the bar—for him.

She looked up as he approached, her eyes looking him up and down admiringly. "So, a turian on shore leave." Gazing past his shoulder, she gave a triumphant little smile to someone behind him.

Garrus looked around, but didn't see anyone she might have been looking at.

"You come here often?" she asked him.

He looked back at her, not sure he understood the question. "Uh … not really?" Her eyes narrowed as if he was being particularly dense, and suddenly it struck him. "Wait, is this that 'first date' thing we talked about?" Shepard smiled at him, tilting her head invitingly, and he cleared his throat. "Right. Yes. Got it. Yeah. Oh, I come here often. Good place to blow off steam." He raked her with an admiring glance of his own. "Scenery's not bad, either." She had on the red silk blouse, buttoned just low enough to suggest what lay beneath. Pitching his voice a bit lower than usual, he added, "I'm Garrus Vakarian. Codename: Archangel. All-around turian bad boy and dispenser of justice in an unjust galaxy. Also, I kill Reapers on the side. And you are?"

"Commander Shepard, Alliance Navy."

Garrus stifled a smile. She didn't know how to pick up a stranger in a bar any more than he did. "Shepard, huh? I might've heard a few things about you."

"Oh? Flatter me."

"Word is you're smart. Sexy. A wicked shot. Also, you kill Reapers on the side, too."

"Uh-huh. And, tell me, all-around turian bad boy, do most girls fall for that?"

"Well, sure. You know, this voice, and, uh … I'm kind of running out of banter here, Shepard."

"Make it up. Remember, we just met."

"Right. I mean … yeah, most girls fall for it." He decided they needed to get past the talking portion of the date sooner rather than later. "Let me show you." He took her hand.

"What are you doing?" Zia asked in alarm.

"Come on, it'll be fun," he assured her, tugging her toward the dance floor.

She was protesting all the way as he pulled her onto the floor and took her firmly in his arms.

"Trust me, Zia."

Looking up at him, she clearly wanted to protest again, but he began to move, remembering what he had been taught about leading a partner, and she came with him, not ungracefully. Her eyes widened in surprise, and he stood up a little straighter. "Been taking lessons on the side." She didn't have to know that it was only a morning's worth.

"You're going to pay for this later," she muttered, trying to focus on her feet and following the steps without tripping.

"I'm sure I can imagine some ways you could thank me," he agreed, chuckling as she glared at him.

As the dance went on, they gathered something of an audience. He tried to keep his focus on her so she wouldn't notice they were being watched, but over her shoulder he saw Vega and Joker at the other bar, and he could have sworn he saw Kasumi materialize briefly to give him an approving nod.

It was everything he had imagined, moving to the music with Shepard in his arms. At last he dipped her low, murmuring in her ear, "So tell me, think a girl would fall for that?" He let his subvocals reverberate against her in a way he knew she loved.

"She might. If there's dinner in it."

"Oh, there's dinner." He pulled her up, acknowledging the spattering of applause with a nod and a cocky look at Jimmy Vega. "I was going to take you to this great sushi place, but it recently—"

"Garrus."

"What?"

"Too soon."

Over dinner, Shepard regaled Garrus with the story of her afternoon with Javik shooting a scene from the next Blasto vid. When she described the way she and the hanar who played Blasto had tried to shove each other out of the way, each claiming to be the savior of the Citadel, Garrus nearly spit out his sauteed keleven.

When the dishes were cleared and they had both refused desserts, Garrus leaned across the table, taking her small hands in his. "Zia, I just wanted to tell you how important you are to me. I … never imagined I would find anyone to share my life with—I thought of myself as a lone wolf, taking on the galaxy one rogue mission at a time." She smiled at that, and he squeezed her hands. "You changed all that. You gave my life meaning, and purpose, and direction, and you showed me what love really is. I can't imagine my life without you."

"And you never have to. There is no Shepard without Vakarian, and there never will be. I love you, Garrus."

"I love you, too." He wanted to kiss her, needed to kiss her. "You want to get out of here?"

A slow, sexy smile blossomed on her face. "I thought you'd never ask."

As much as he wanted her alone, it was something to be sauntering down the halls of the Citadel with her at his side, just a pair of lovers amidst the life and energy of the Citadel. "I hope a lot more nights like this are in our future."

"Me, too."

Inside the apartment, she started to reach for him, but he held her off. "Upstairs, okay?"

"You mean, in bed? But what about your list?" she teased him.

"Tomorrow."

"I'm thinking of having the party tomorrow night. Then the day after we can all recuperate—I have a meeting with the asari councilor—and after that …"

He cut short her return to shop talk. "Zia."

"Sorry." She blushed. "Not the time, I know."

Garrus led her to the door of their bedroom, letting her see the rose petals scattered across the bed, the rose-red silk nightgown spread across her side of it, and the oblong velvet box that sat on top of it.

"Garrus," she whispered. "You didn't have to."

"But I wanted to."

Zia went to the bed, opening the box and gasping at the necklace that lay there. It was a shimmering pendant of glass hand-blown in different colors to represent the Earth. He'd found an artisan, a true master at his craft, to make it for him. "Garrus. It's beautiful."

"Turn it over."

She did so, and looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "It's Palaven."

He nodded, pleased with her reaction.

"I love it. I love you." She threw herself into his arms. "Let me show you how much."

Lifting her in his arms, feeling her legs wind themselves around his waist, he kissed her, telling her without words everything he had tried so clumsily to say with words earlier. She replied in kind, their hearts and bodies singing to each other.