Garrus took the phone, weighing it in his hands carefully.

Maybe just a phone call...

He put it back down. No. A video call will be better. I want to seem serious.

He brought up his omnitool, but before he could input any command, he'd changed his mind again and turned it off. A hologram? Or is that too formal?

He'd been agonizing over making this call for nearly an hour. It probably didn't matter what means of communication he chose, but focusing on that choice helped him put off the inevitable, dreaded moment of actually making that call.

His hands were shaking. As soon as he became aware of it, they stopped, of course. Still... Am I really so nervous about this? He shouldn't be. It was going to be fine. Just a short phone call. Or video call. Or holo call. Crap. He couldn't decide.

"I hate myself," he decided. He pressed the call button and waited.

A steady tone rang out through the air, and then another one.

Garrus breathed out, trying to calm himself down.

Another tone. He moved to disconnect the line, hang up before it went to voicemail, but before he could do that, the hologram flickered and came to life.

"Garrus?"

He stiffened. "Yes, sir."

A short, awkward silence.

"...Well, this is a surprise. You never call."

"Um... Yeah, I..." He couldn't find his words, stumbling around. "I sort of... need a favour."

"If you got yourself into some mess, you have to get out of it yourself."

"No! I'm fine," Garrus protested quickly, and that worked in snapping him out of it. "I'm alright, dad, I am. It's nothing like that."

His father looked at him, unimpressed.

"I'll take your word on that. What do you want, then? Are you having trouble with your posting?"

"No, I... I'm actually on the Citadel right now." The uncomfortable tingling sensation in his exoskeleton didn't want to go away. "I, uh... got a job here, outside the military."

"Hm." Castis nodded his head; if he had any feelings on the matter, he kept them hidden. "What kind of job?"

"You know about that new sapient species they got into contact with? I'm helping out with that."

"I heard all about it. It escalated into a small conflict... Weren't you deployed on Shanxi? Back where it all went down?"

So, not surprisingly, his father had kept tabs on him. Right now Garrus hadn't yet decided if that made him angry or happy.

"Yeah," he said simply. "It's how I got into this whole thing."

"That's fair. That's fair... What did you want again?"

"I, uh... was wondering if you still own that apartment in the Wards." Garrus nervously scratched the back of his neck. "I've been staying at a hotel, but I've recently decided to stay here for good... I'll pay rent, of course! It's, ah— It's just that it's incredibly hard to find anything affordable on the Citadel. And..."

"And you assumed that since I'm on Palaven, I won't be using our old apartment."

"Uh... Yes, sir," Garrus mumbled. It didn't put him in the best light.

Castis sighed. He covered his face.

"You're a lucky bastard, Garrus. I was going to rent it out this year anyway."

Garrus flared out his mandibles. "Thank you, dad. I really appreciate it."

Castis shook his head.

"...Never thought I'd see you settle down, least of all because of a job."

"There's other things too," Garrus said vaguely. He didn't feel like going into it right now. Didn't even know how to say it, for that matter. "Either way, um... thank you. It means a lot to me."

"Of course it does," Castis shook his head. "Take care of yourself, Garrus. Don't lose your edge just because you're not in the field, alright?"

"Yes, sir."

"Try not to embarrass our species in front of the humans."

"I will." Garrus nodded dutifully. "I'll do my best. And thank you again."

Castis nodded at the camera and the hologram fizzled out of existence.

Garrus breathed out.

His relationship with his father had been... layered, especially since he'd joined the military, so he was relieved to see it wasn't quite as bad as he'd feared it was. Plus, he now had an apartment.

Not only an apartment - he had the apartment he'd grown up in. He wouldn't have to get used to some new, unfamiliar space. He would get that small apartment he'd spent most of his teenage years in. The apartment which had been far too cramped for four people—but they'd made it work somehow—and would be just perfect for only one person, even if that person was planning to sometimes invite his girlfriend over.

Things are looking up.

That was Garrus's immediate first thought after that conversation with his father. The first thought he consciously registered, at least. There were also some smaller flickers of an emotion that passed through him, but they were far too nuanced and complex for him to understand. All he picked up from the mess of his own emotions was this general contentment. Some hope for the future.

A lot of hope, actually. Most of it in the form of the redheaded human diplomat he had saved back when they'd both been just enemy soldiers on the battlefield.

Now that he thought about it, she had saved him every bit as much as he had her. And not just when she'd stopped the human soldiers from shooting him. She'd given him a purpose—even before he'd fallen in love with her, she had pulled him out of his dark outlook on life, out of the endless grey his life had been before her. He still remembered those first weeks on Shanxi: avoiding fighting, looking out for himself more than ever before, and then eventually the surprising realization that this was the first time he felt the need to be careful. He remembered the terror that filled him when he'd gotten shot one of these days. It had been the first time he was really concerned by an injury. It hurt like hell, but he'd only thought about how she needed him. How he needed to survive not only for himself but also for someone else.

She didn't need him anymore now. She hadn't for a long time. And yet she still let him stay a part of her life, for which Garrus was eternally grateful. Shepard had become more than just a friend or romantic partner; he had unconsciously built his entire life around her. She was both the thing that grounded him and the thing that made him soar. It wasn't that he had become dependent on her or that he wouldn't be able to live on if she left. What it was was that he cherished and respected her so much that he hoped she never would. He wasn't just doing this for her anymore. He was also doing this for the turian he had been becoming under her guidance. He liked this new version of himself he was still discovering. This Garrus was more open-minded, more optimistic, and more decisive than he'd ever known himself to be. It was just another reason he loved Shepard so much: being with her had inspired him to grow as a person.

It was the first relationship that'd ever made him feel this way.

The first week of Shepard's job as the ambassador passed by almost without Garrus noticing. Or rather it passed with him having his hands full with so much constant work that the days blended into one long stream of paperwork, meetings, delegations, and sleepless nights spent with Shepard, helping her keep up with her own work.

His job was easier than hers, he wasn't going to kid himself. It was mostly the reason why he devoted so much of his free time to helping her with it. But as much as his job was subjectively easier than Shepard's, it still objectively wasn't easy. As the only turian working in the embassy (and one of the only two non-humans overall), Garrus was directed to most interracial incidents involving humans. And since there were more and more humans coming to the Citadel, he had his hands full. Not only was he sometimes treated as something of a test drive to check how a human would react to other species, he also found himself working the front desk for some reason, at the point when most everyone had started treating him like the secretary.

Apparently, most humans had a problem with telling turians apart. (Which Garrus thought was ironic, considering how easy it was for a human to change their hairstyle, their only distinguishing characteristic.) It made his job slightly frustrating, because every now and then people would come up to him insisting they'd talked before even though he'd never seen them.

He was also beginning to appreciate Shepard's approach to the issue. She hadn't hidden it from him that she had a problem with it, but she'd also made it clear that it was something she had to learn to do. She was acting as if it was taken for granted that she would one day tell turians apart as easily as she did humans.

For now, she was just content with having Garrus wear his visor all the time. Which wasn't much of a problem for Garrus, since he was used to wearing it all the time anyway.

"Speak of the devil," he muttered to himself, using one of his favourite human phrases he had picked up during his time working at the embassy. "I'd better check on her."

It was getting late—even if the everlasting sunlight of the Presidium hid that fact—and he was pretty sure Shepard hadn't even taken a lunch break that day. He wasn't worried about her, he was just... Well, he was worried.

He apprehensively knocked on the door to her office and waited until it was opened remotely from inside.

"Hi." He looked around the room, but they were alone. Did Shepard even have an assistant? (Was he supposed to be her assistant?) "How are you?"

Shepard barely looked up at him, just enough to acknowledge his presence.

"Very busy," she replied quickly. She narrowed her brows, comparing two printed-out reports.

Garrus awkwardly swiped his foot on the floor. He hadn't told Shepard about it, but he'd synced up her vitals with his visor—only as a precaution, not because he was expecting her life to be in danger anytime soon. Nonetheless, he'd gotten used to seeing that data in the corner of his vision. It calmed him.

Right now, he could tell she was stressed out. Not a lot, not having a panic attack by a long shot, but her vitals were all sped up. That and the way she was not looking at him added up to a concerning situation.

"When did you last take a break from this?" he asked.

"Haven't yet." She signed some document and pushed it to the side of her desk.

"Do you... want to?" Garrus tapped his foot on the floor nervously.

"Don't know, don't care." She put her hands on the sides of her head. "Very busy."

Garrus carefully made his way over to the desk.

"Are these all immigration forms?" His nostrils flared in surprise. "All of them?"

"Yes." She shooed him away. "Now, I really need to focus on this, so..."

"Shepard..."

She sighed. "I appreciate you coming in, Garrus," she smiled weakly. He could see dark circles under her eyes. "I really do. But I just don't have time right now."

"Can I do something to help?" He felt kind of bad that he was already done with his own work while Shepard still clearly had a lot on her plate.

"You can leave me alone." She winced. "No! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like that. I'm tired. You're just... You wanted to help and it means a lot. But I've got this. Really."

Garrus wasn't convinced, but he didn't really want to argue with her. "If you say so..." He hesitantly walked away.

"Hey—" Shepard's voice stopped him at the door. He spun around. "I still have a lot of paperwork to do after this... If you don't mind, I'd really appreciate it if you came over later tonight."

"I'll be there," he promised with a curt nod of his head.

When Garrus returned home, it had already gone dark. At least the Wards simulated some sort of day cycle, a 25-hour day shorter than the one he was used to from back home but close enough not to be completely confusing. It was very preferable to the eternal sunlight.

He threw himself on the sofa as soon as he was inside. He didn't even bother turning on the lights.

The apartment was almost entirely empty, with only a few basic utilities installed, but that didn't really bother Garrus a lot. He only really needed a bed and maybe a desk, and a shower.

There was only one room with a window, but who needs windows on the Citadel?

The apartment was smaller than he remembered from his childhood. More than big enough for him to comfortably live alone, though. Besides, he had stocked the fridge with enough pre-made meals to survive until he could afford to install a cooking unit.

He'd also, somewhat apprehensive of that decision, decided to buy at least a few levo drinks. Just in case, he told himself, he had anyone over. Any salarian or krogan or asari— or human. He pretended in front of himself that he wasn't only supplying himself for that last alternative. He didn't want to assume anything. Just because he had spent a few nights helping Shepard out with paperwork didn't mean she was going to be staying over at his place. They hadn't talked about these things yet, especially since they were both still settling in. It was a period of transitions and Garrus wasn't going to complicate it even more.

He set a timer for one hour from now. Years of military service had taught him to take his sleep whenever and wherever he could, and he had no way to tell how long he was going to spend at Shepard's. He decided that taking a nap before wasn't the worst idea. Just in case.

It took Shepard a while to answer the door.

"Oh! Great, you came!" She'd traded her official outfit for one that, Garrus suspected, was more comfortable. It fit more loosely on her body. "Thank god. I have no idea how I could do this without you."

"That's why I'm here." Garrus nervously fumbled with his fingers. Maybe he should have brought something. Wine or chocolate or whatever.

Shepard sent him an encouraging smile as she ushered him inside.

"I took the liberty to not treat this as a date," she said, already walking off to the kitchen. (Spirits, her apartment was huge. What could she possibly ever need that much space for?) "Sorry I'm just in my sweats. Then again, you've seen me in worse."

Garrus looked at her, silently comparing her to other members of her species. He didn't mean to do it, but it was inevitable. Now that he had a frame of reference, now that he'd seen other humans up close, Shepard wasn't just a complete alien. Not one of a kind anymore... And yet, in some ways, she was different. He'd instinctively seen her as small, so it didn't really surprise him when he realized that even for a human, her stature wasn't impressive. Her flame-coloured hair was still unique to him; he hadn't seen any other human with one like it yet. Most of all what stuck out about her was her body language, so much different from the one he was used to seeing in members of her species.

And it once again baffled him that Shepard didn't see him as a monster of some kind, because it was all too clear that other humans did.

It didn't surprise him that they did. One look at their species' physicality and anyone would assume they'd find most other sentient species terrifying. Humans were so soft and small. They didn't have sharp teeth or claws or an exoskeleton to protect them. Their features were so soft it was nearly impossible to tell them apart. No sharp edges on their bodies. Of course they'd be instinctively scared of turians or elcor or asari. Garrus probably looked like some sort of nightmare creature to them.

"Do you want anything?" Shepard was rummaging through her fridge. Garrus strongly suspected it was much better-supplied than his array of reheatable meals. "No idea what you're into, so I took a guess."

She took out a bottle of light beer.

Dextro beer.

Garrus covered his mouth, but he couldn't keep it inside. He erupted into laughter.

Shepard raised her eyebrows, puzzled.

"What...?" She tilted her head, staring at him with a shocked expression and Garrus thought that maybe, probably, she hadn't seen him laugh this hard ever before, but that thought only made him laugh harder.

"I just..." He wheezed, still very amused, still laughing. "It's just that I thought I was stupid for buying levo drinks for my apartment..."

And there she was, doing the exact same thing, even though neither one of them had ever said a word about it, and that seemed extremely funny to Garrus for some reason.

"We're just..." He stopped to cough. He hadn't laughed this hard for months, and Shepard was looking at him strangely. "We're completely worth each other, huh? Spirits, what kind of idiot does it take..." He laughed. "Damn, Shepard, I love you."

"You're acting strange."

She tossed him the turian beer and took a human one from the fridge.

She uncapped the bottle with some utensil he'd never seen before.

"Here's to rocky new beginnings." She directed the bottle in his direction.

Garrus tilted his head.

Shepard sighed. "You're supposed to clink yours against mine. Like this." She tapped his drink with her own. "It's a... stupid little human thing... It doesn't really mean anything, I just thought..."

"Shepard."

She looked up. "Yeah?"

"Are you..." He felt really stupid asking this. "Are you sure you're adjusting fine?"

"What do you mean...?"

Garrus clenched his mandibles. It was in little things like this that he saw that not only was Shepard an alien but also—a perspective he rarely considered—from her point of view, he was an alien. She was far away from her home and her people, surrounded mostly by strangers of alien species, and how was he supposed to help her with that? He had no way to.

"...I'm not human," he said gently. He was trying not to make it sound too patronising. He just wanted her to be sure she was aware of this, of everything it meant for her, for them. "I'm never going to be."

"Yeah, I know." She raised an eyebrow. "I got eyes."

"I just... don't understand it."

"What's there to understand?"

"I... Why would you want to be with someone like me? I'm not—" He looked away. "We're... so different."

"Yeah." She laughed and took a big swig from her bottle. She put it on the counter. Garrus took a step back when she grabbed his hands. "I like that about us. We don't have to make sense, Garrus. I could think this over a million times, but it won't change how I feel. I want you."

"I..." He didn't know why he kept looking for problems where there weren't any. Why he kept searching for some reason they shouldn't be together. Why he still didn't want to believe this wasn't going to blow up in his face. "You say that now, but... Shepard, I... I don't know what the future's like for... I don't know if we even have a future. If we can have one... This is—"

"This is a two-month-old relationship." She rolled her eyes. "You're overthinking something that isn't even a problem. What is this really about?"

"I..."

"You don't know?"

"I guess... It's just been going so well between us."

"And that's a problem?"

"Call me weird, but... yes? It's... it's strange for me. We barely ever fight. Everything is amazing, and... It's so easy. I haven't been in a serious relationship that went so well."

"I've never been in a serious romantic relationship before."

"You..." Garrus paused. He couldn't really believe that. A woman like Shepard...? He didn't pretend he knew a lot about human beauty standards, but her status and personality alone were incredibly attractive, not even counting her physique. "...Never?"

"No, never past a few weeks. The life of a soldier. Besides, I never really wanted to commit..." She smiled as she nervously played with her hair. "You, um... You're the first person who made me want to try." She scowled when she noticed his expression. "No. Don't smile at this! You don't get to smile at this. That was... the last cheesy line you'll ever hear from me."

"Sure it was." Garrus put his hands on her hips, pulling her closer until their bodies were touching. "Hm. From you? I'll take all the cheesy lines in the world."

Shepard blushed.

"Where's all this coming from?" she hooked a finger on his chin, pulling him down to her eye level. "You're not playing fair, you know. You know I can never resist it when you make your voice like that."

Garrus clicked his mandibles. He hadn't even noticed he'd dropped his voice almost an octave lower and was now sending out virtual odes to her beauty with his subvocals. How embarrassing. For the first time, he was glad she couldn't hear that.

"Well, I, ah— You know. Hormones and such..." He cleared his throat, reverting to his normal timbre. "You, uh, make me feel things."

She snorted. "That's cute, Vakarian."

Garrus wrinkled his nose.

Shepard glanced over at the coffee table. She sighed.

"And the moment's over," she said. "I need to file all these documents by yesterday."

"Yesterday?" Garrus repeated. Shepard was a great diplomat, but her time management wasn't impressive. This wasn't the first time he had to help her out with her work. At first, he'd assumed that she was in over her head, showered with too many duties for one person to handle. With time, he'd come to realize that it was just her personality and the structure of someone used to the militaristic that didn't take to this different, more self-imposed routine. Garrus sighed. She really had to work on this. "Fine. Let's get this over with. You're terrible at planning."

"I know." She fell back onto the sofa. "That's why I keep calling you to help."

Garrus shook his head. "Well, I'm hurt. Here I thought it had something to do with my charm and devastatingly good looks."

"That's just a little perk for me," Shepard grinned. "Alright, how about this? File documents now. Make out on the sofa later. Deal?"

He snorted, amused. "Deal."