Note to my (very few) readers: I'm finding that this story is just not getting traffic here. Only a few people are reading with no followers or reviews. So I think this will be my last post of FF unless this changes. I'm still posting under the same pseudonym and title on AO3, so if you'd like to read there, I have many more chapters to go. It's just too demoralizing to post here every day when no one actually seems to be enjoying it. Thank you so much for reading. Hope to see you on AO3! On to chapter 7

-x-

Garrus' omnitool pinged him. 2400 hours. Shepard would be settling into her favorite couch in the lounge to get some work done. "I know it's silly," she'd told him a few nights before, "but I just feel too antsy in my quarters to get anything done. I guess I'm just used to working in common areas. It's what I've always done. It's hard enough to sleep in the captain's cabin, never mind focus on work." He understood without the need for elaboration. She was born to command, he was certain of that; he'd yet to meet a general with Shepard's natural gift for it. But having her own ship and all the trappings that would ordinarily be reserved for a captain? That was still new and uncomfortable to Shepard, though she hid it well.

He also suspected that being in those quarters might remind her of the man she'd supplanted. Not her fault, the entire crew agreed on that front, but still, she was the type to take on guilt regardless of whether or not she was to blame. And if writing reports in the observation lounge helped her feel a little less guilty, Garrus was more than happy to share the space and her company. So after silencing the alarm on his omnitool, he packed up the rifle mods he'd been tinkering with, and made his way to her.

"Hey, Garrus," she said without even looking up from her work.

"How'd you guess?" he asked as he entered the room.

She watched as he took a seat next to her on the couch. "The sound of heavy armor shifting. Had to be you, Ashley, or Wrex; and Wrex and Ashley are both stompers. You glide."

A pleasant, nervous heat thrilled through him. She noticed I glide. Looking at her easy smile and relaxed posture, Garrus was further brightened. She was happy. Not her usual affect. He nodded toward the pad still in her hand. "Reading anything good?"

She tapped the pad against her knee. "A letter from my brother-in-law."

He stiffened. In-law: family by way of marriage. Her spouse's brother. How was he only hearing about this now? "Oh." he said, hoping she didn't notice the squeak in his subvocals. "I… uh… didn't realize you were married, Shepard."

She laughed. "No, I'm not married. Curtis was my brother's husband. I've known him my whole life."

He relaxed a little. "Right. Sorry. Translator didn't catch the distinction." Why would it even matter if she was married? he thought, chastising himself for his sense of relief. He had no romantic intentions with Shepard. Friends. They were friends.

"I get the confusion; there's no distinction in English. And it's not like we've talked about my family."

Garrus watched her face solemnly, noticing that shadow that passed over her whenever she thought of Mindoir, though her smile held out.

"Sam…" the name took effort to say. "That's my brother's name. He and Curt got married young... the day Sam turned eighteen… right before we moved to Mindoir. Rushed it a bit so Curt could count as family to meet the colonization restrictions." She broke eye contact, and her smile faltered. "Curtis was away when the Batarians attacked. It's… it's just the two of us now."

Garrus nodded. "Where is he now?" he asked.

The shadow over her features lifted a little. "Earth. Alliance R&D. He was part of the team that designed the Normandy's stealth systems."

"Impressive," Garrus said genuinely. "He must be good."

Her eyes lit up. "He's great. One of the top specialists in the Alliance. Busy though." She chuckled. "I suppose he'd say the same about me. I don't get to see him as often as I'd like, but we keep up over the extranet, and I like to think that he's part of the Normandy, looking out for me, keeping me safe."

"I bet he likes that too." If helping keep Shepard safe made Curtis half as proud as it made Garrus, he must.

"He does. Says he joined R&D because developing more advanced starships was the only way he could make sure I stayed in one piece out here." Shepard shook her head and cringed. "He hated when I joined the Alliance. It's the only thing we've ever really fought about. Still do, sometimes."

"It must be hard for him, knowing that someone he loves is throwing herself into danger every day." His throat tightened a little at the words. Loving someone like Shepard would hurt.

She frowned. "Yeah. He says his stomach drops every time his door chimes, certain it will be an Admiral with a folded flag and my dog tags in a box."

"Good reason to stay alive. Keep those dog tags where they belong."

"Absolutely." She looked at him warmly. "Are you close with your family?"

It was Garrus' turn to cringe. "My family relationships are… a little strained. I get along okay with my sister and my mother, but they don't really understand me. And my father… he and I don't see eye to eye about… well… anything. Last I heard from him, he was taking it pretty hard that I'd left C-sec to work with you."

She crossed her arms in front of her. "Why? Because I'm human?"

"That's probably part of it." Definitely a part of it. "But mostly it's because he hates the extralegal freedom of the Spectres. He thinks everything should be done by-the-book, and if you have to cut corners or break rules to reach an objective, then you should abandon the objective…. He's a big part of why C-sec is a maze of red tape."

She cocked an eyebrow. "He's in C-sec?"

He nodded. "Retired. But he worked for them most of my life. He's sort of a legend."

"Why did you choose to join C-sec, then? If you don't mind my asking." It was a fair question. Why jump into a career where the parent with whom you disagreed on everything was a legend? Why choose to work with a father who'd found fault with all you did and believed? Why if you hated rigid structure and inflexibility would you pick a profession defined by rigid rules and inflexible protocol?

He sighed. "I wanted to help people, and my dad convinced me C-sec would let me do that. I should have known better, but, being his son, my perspective was… colored by him. In reality, with all the rules and red tape, it's easier to bust a duct rat for vagrancy than it is to get them safe lodging. And the real criminals- red sand profiteers, well-connected killers, mercenaries, and people like Saren- are damn near impossible to get to.

"That sounds really frustrating." Tension in Garrus' chest he hadn't even noticed before abruptly released at those words. Every time he'd said as much to his father and C-sec superiors, he'd been fed some line about duty, the purpose of the chain of command, and the necessity of the endlessly rigid rules. But Shepard understood.

Shepard's sympathy emboldened him to open up more. "I kept thinking, if I just toughed it out, played the game long enough to rise in the ranks, I'd be able to change things. But the higher up the ladder I went, the thicker the red tape got, strangling my spirit more and more every day…. I think it was killing me." His stomach twisted at the admission. Too much? But her gaze was caring and concerned. Not a trace of judgement in those warm grey eyes. So he kept going. "Until you came along, it had been ages since I'd last felt like I'd actually helped someone."

A shadow of a smile, compassionate and gentle, graced Shepard's downturned lips. "And your dad doesn't understand your feelings about C-sec?"

He scoffed at the idea of his father understanding anything about him. "No. He doesn't. He thinks I'm contemptuous of the rules to spite him, or because I'm too impatient or hot-headed to do things the 'right way.'"

Her face scrunched up in appreciated disgust. "That's pretty harsh. He really says things like that to you?"

Garrus nodded wearily. "Like I said, we don't see eye-to-eye."

Shepard chewed on the inside of her cheek and snorted. "Ironically, Saren does sort of prove your dad's point about Spectres. If Saren had more oversight, and fewer extralegal freedoms, he might not be a problem now."

"You could be right about that," Garrus said with a prickle of irritation. "But you're proof that corruption and abuse of power doesn't necessarily follow from removing restraints. When you cut corners, you save lives. And I've yet to see you abuse your Spectre status."

A distinct rosiness bloomed on Shepard's cheeks. "Maybe if we take Saren down and save the galaxy your dad will shift his perspective a little."

"I doubt it," Garrus snorted. "No offense, Shepard, but, even with all the good you do, I doubt he'd like you very much. Just on principle."

Shepard smirked. "I don't know, Garrus. I'm pretty damn charming. I win over most people in the end." She looked up at the ceiling and waggled her head side to side, considering. "The ones I don't shoot, anyway."

He laughed. "I believe it. But Castis is, as you humans say, a tough nut to crack."