When she first thought of bringing Joker along with her to the Citadel, she didn't realize it'd be so much like walking a very loud bull through a china shop. Not that he broke everything, but he "jokingly" threatened to all the time, because what would one expect from ole brittle bones?

Anya would've smacked him if she wasn't so sure half his "brittle bones" jokes weren't bizarre, deep-seeded childhood deflection tactics from old bullying wounds. Or if she wouldn't possibly break said bones from slapping him.

Then she'd really have to bite the bullet and pay for that one. She'd done it before, and she wasn't too keen on doing it again.

They were walking around the Citadel quite aimlessly, trying to find something to placate Zaeed after their botched last mission. They saved an entire factory's worth of people, but they let his Vido slip through their fingers.

Safe to say, the old man was pissed and she wanted to make it up to him.

So, here they were. Present shopping. Something she was so good at.

Next to her, trying to avoid touching anyone, Joker fondled a penguin plush and asked, "When did your genius ass think I was the best companion for this?"

Swiping the penguin from his hands, she put it back on the shelf. Stuffed animals couldn't file harassment claims, so she'd stop him for the poor thing. What was with him and bird feet? "I figured you'd have the best idea of what to get a foul-mouthed, grumpy old man."

"Why?"

"Well, if you had better legs, I'm pretty sure he'd be your future."

"I'm not sure if I'm flattered or insulted."

Anya shrugged. She wouldn't mind growing up to be like Zaeed, even with the miss eye. It was kinda badass. But there was also the whole "friendless asshole who had weird romantic feelings for his gun" part that made him a little less appealing. "Both are applicable."

"Well, if you want my honest opinion, a gift is not going to make Zaeed forgive you."

Even though they were only on their third shop, with Shepard shuffling around looking at everything and anything like an idiot, she put down the snowglobe in her hand. The kind of things you buy weren't exactly what made old Zaeed feel fuzzy inside. She knew because other than Jessie (the aforementioned sexy rifle) was the only real material possession the man gave a rat's ass about.

And she was pretty sure he'd find any sort of sentimental gun an insult to her dominion in his heart.

Crossing her arms, Anya admitted, "I know." Then, she turned to Joker. She wished she could've made Zaeed happy; that she could've let him shoot Vido right through the skull himself. But seeing all those people in the fire, screaming... "I couldn't let them die, though."

They exited the shop and instead started walking the streets. While Joker couldn't walk very fast, she knew he liked to stretch his legs every once in awhile. In Academy, he was the only one who insisted he needed to try the mile run.

Dude did it in a fabulous eleven minutes, but the fact he did it at all reminded the sergeants that Jeff Moreau wasn't fucking around about wanting to be the best pilot he could be, Vrolik's and all.

Walking side by side, her favorite pilot said, "Of course you couldn't. But if you want him to trust you, you probably need to find Vido again."

Anya snorted. It took a dozen cascading Cerberus contacts and a few bribes to find the guy the first time. "Easier said than done."

But just then, Joker stopped short. Her eyes were trained on his face, worried if something started hurting the exact wrong way. "Are you okay? Is it your-"

Instead of pain, all she saw was panic on his face as he shook his head. "Anya, we have a problem." He grabbed her arm and pulled her into an alleyway with a bunch of crates in it. Joker even pulled her behind said cover, like they were hiding from an target.

If this was Garrus, there would be other intentions. However, she and the pilot weren't exactly the steamy type. With his thigh pressed against hers, she opened her mouth. But he shook his head again. "Just stay behind this and don't ask questions."

Rolling her eyes, Anya tried to walk out of the alley, but he grabbed her arm. This was very unlike him. "Joker, what the-"

But then she saw her. Graying hair. Stiff, proud shoulders. Two laser-sharp eyes, one green, one gray. She was with someone, probably a fellow Captain, looking as serious as ever. But she had the faintest smile on the corner of her lips, that went well with her high-ranking Alliance uniform.

Without any hesitation, Anya stepped back into the shadows. "Oh."

"Yeah. I figured you didn't want... that... to be a surprise."

Unable to breathe quite right, she just was doing her best to keep her shaking fingers under control. "Thanks." But it didn't seem to be enough. She closed her eyes, pressed her fists into her thighs, but nothing made her feel so overwhelmed. When she opened her eyes again, all she could look at was that spot across from their hiding spot, where she saw Oksana Shepard for the first time in years. "She was right there. She just passed us." Quieter, she said, "I've never felt more like a ghost in my life."

Joker nudged her shoulder. "You can go to her, if you want."

"I can't." Luckily, the ship was in the other direction. Grabbing hold of Joker's elbow, she took him out of there as fast as possible.

She couldn't deal with that right now. Instead, she just needed to go home.

This time, dressed down and twirling her hair into knots, she was ready for him. She figured Joker wouldn't know how to deal with the face she made, and he'd send in reinforcements.

Garrus was at her door within a half hour.

She didn't say anything, just pulled him into her room and into her arms.

"She's your mother. Why haven't you contacted her?"

Anya sighed and stared at the picture on her desk, at that no-shit woman who raised her. "If we don't come back from the relay, I didn't want her to have to lose me twice."

In his arms, she felt safe. But did she deserve to feel safe, after looking at her mother and walking away? Garrus kissed the top of her head and asked, "You were close, weren't you?"

Struggling to bear the mix of guilt and sacrifice, she walked out of his grasp and towards her fish tank. Her nigh-unkillable goldfish were easier to look at than someone she cared about. Especially when she was keeping the first person to care about her in abject darkness. "In our way, yeah. She was the first person I called when they made me Spectre. But Mom's lost enough without putting her through emotional turmoil for a daughter who might not stay alive."

Even though she walked away from him, Garrus was soon behind her, rubbing her shoulders, nuzzling her neck. "Wouldn't it be worth it to see her, just in case it was the last time?"

It was meant to have a bite to it, but when she spoke, she just ended up sputtering. "What do you know about me and my mother?"

"I know she was devastated at the funeral. Was even hiding in the bar with me when the service got to be too much." His arms wound around her waist, like a turian flotation device. It was pretty accurate to how he felt most days, keeping her afloat. "She wanted to make sure you were happy, when you were alive."

Anya snorted, an embarrassing mix of snot and tears. "I hope she wasn't weird."

"Oh, she was weird. Got upset we weren't having sex because she said you needed it. But she was happy you had a family on the Normandy." In the circle of his arms, Anya finally turned around to look at him. If he suffered through Oksana's sex talk, he deserved that much. It didn't hurt that his blue eyes made her feel like she could survive the screaming in her head. "I know this is your call, Anya, but if I had one more day with my mom, I'd take it."

"You're not wrong." Laughing, Anya shoved her face in her hands. How many times were they going to end up like this, her crying and him untangling all the knots? She shook her head and kissed his nose. "Jesus, we need to get you some problems. I feel like we always talk about me."

"Well, resurrection and leading the charge to save the galaxy takes precedence."

"It might feel that way, but it shouldn't. So tell me things." She kissed his cheek, his forehead, whatever she could get her lips on without losing sight of his damned helpful smile. "How about the time I was gone? And not because I want to know about how you felt about me. I want to know about you. You always still look so hurt."

Even though Garrus normally brushed her off with a joke, Anya seemed to have caught him out when he was more vulnerable, caring for her. He swallowed and looked like he didn't want to dredge it up, but after some long glances around the room, at her, face, he sighed.

Garrus pressed his forehead against hers and said, "Because it did fucking hurt." He shook his head, like drilling in this information into her head. That, or trying to rub it out of his own. "I choked out Kaidan. I spent forty days getting drunk on Omega. I turned my back on everything I ever wanted to be, Spectre or C-Sec. I didn't know one person could ever affect me so much."

Each new thing on the list stabbed her a little further in the heart. She stopped the kissing, the cutesy-ness. She just wanted him to know she had him, just like he always had her.

So, smooth as always, she held her arms tight to the back of his shoulders. She'd be his parachute. With a long, deep breath, she asked, "And your family?"

"My dad still doesn't understand. Sol tries to, but in a helplessly supportive sister way." Garrus tucked some of her hair behind her ears, a feeling she was getting used to. "I always felt alone, like the way I looked at the world was different than everyone I knew. But the Normandy changed that." He chuckled, and the sound against her ear made everything feel a little better. She hoped her smile against his chest did the same thing for him. "Tali and I had a stupidly long conversation about it a few nights ago. You helped us find who we wanted to be, even if you didn't mean to."

Garrus leaned back to look down at her, and Anya pulled her face from his heartbeat so they could get a direct line of sight. But it didn't seem like he was trying to find anything on her face, try to figure her out.

He just wanted to see her, as she was.

If anything, she felt lucky to see him.

The turian shrugged and continued, "Like anyone else, I have years of childhood trauma I can talk through. But the difference between you and me is that I only found myself a few years ago. You understood the difference between who you were and what the galaxy needed you to be your entire life, and you fight every day to make sure those don't fuck each other up." He ran his fingers through her hair, and Anya was starting to think it was just as soothing to him as it was to her. Like it, long and unkempt, connected them when things got tough. "If I need anything, I'll come to you. But otherwise, I'm happy to help the woman who saved me. I'm just lucky that I got to fall for her, too."

Guess he was also lucky that she couldn't help herself and kissed him the second he stopped talking.

Maybe he was right. Maybe Oksana deserved more, even if Anya couldn't promise she'd stay alive.

But for now, all she wanted to do was revel in this wonderful man's arms. And one day, when he needed her the most, she could be ready to do anything to support him.

Pulling her mouth away, she said, "I-"

Her words were cut off by her annoying, pinging door, though. Who the hell was even bothering her at this hour? It was the middle of the afternoon. Unless Rupert made dinner way too early, or someone was breaking her "message me first" rule, there should not be a single soul up here.

Not except her and Garrus, of course.

Groaning, she pulled out if his arms and walked over to let whoever the hell it was inside. All the "Shakarian" jokes later be damned.

As it opened, she asked, "What?"

There, in front of her, was exactly not what she expected to see. Or wanted to see, to be frank.

With this guilty, puppy dog look on his face, Joker grimaced and said, "I'm sorry, Shepard. I couldn't stop her."

The real kicker was behind him, though, the serious, unsmiling face of Oksana Shepard. Both eyes stared straight into her damn soul and Anya felt like her own blood curdled, froze, on contact. Every apology, every guilty feeling, was bubbling through her body and making her feel like she might as well throw up every meal she'd had today into her toilet.

Instead, she stood her ground and, with a shaky breath, said, "Hello, Mama."

/

Not my best chapter, and not my best editing, but I really wanted to have some lead-up into this Oksana confrontation Take care of yourselves, everyone 3 Thanks as always for reading and thanks to my patrons: Danyell Jones Amy Connolly See you Saturday!