Shepard yawned, stretching out even before she got around to opening her eyes. Like just about anyone, she liked feeling rested. Even more so because she didn't really have many chances to sleep in. And the bed was plenty comfortable, too.

She could probably stay like this for hours.

A sharp pain in her side that spread over most of her abdomen when she stretched out her body was what immediately broke her lazy mood.

Then, the memories of the last two days came crashing back to her and her mood was effectively ruined.

Shepard sat on the edge of the bed, placing her feet on the floor. She reached under her shirt to feel around the bandages that covered her chest and stomach.

"Fuck," she whispered. So not a dream, then. She didn't know why she'd hoped as much. Things had never been particularly easy… This was just another challenge in her way.

She rubbed her eyes. She must have somehow made it back to her apartment, because she was sitting in her own bed now. She didn't remember the last day very clearly, and she blamed all the heavy-duty painkillers she'd been given. Also, blood loss. She could definitely blame blood loss. All things aside though, she had to admit healthcare on the Citadel was a whole damn lot more effective than the one back home. Shepard soberly realized this was the first time she'd gotten shot since first contact; she hadn't been in an alien hospital before yesterday.

She went to the kitchen, still half-asleep, and lazily set the coffee machine to make one espresso shot. She found her painkillers and quickly swallowed one pill along with a swig of milk from the fridge. She took the coffee, added some milk to that too and took a sip without bothering to stir it.

"Hot," she mumbled as she walked to the living room.

Shepard still didn't feel as if this huge apartment was her home, but she had gotten used to living there. It was too much space for one person, in her opinion. Hell, it would have been too much space for an entire family.

"Holy crap!" She nearly dropped the cup, startled enough to spill some of the hot coffee over herself. "Fuck! What the… Garrus?!"

"Jane." Garrus sprang to his feet, reaching out to help her. "Are you alright?"

She stared at him.

"What are you doing in my apartment?!" she shrieked.

"Oh. You don't remember, do you. Well, you were pretty hopped up on painkillers… Wow. This is going to be awkward. Uh… You, um, asked me to stay. So I could stand guard." He noticed the way she was looking at him and just shrugged. "Your words, not mine. You got pretty paranoid there for a while. You wouldn't go to sleep until I promised I'd keep watch."

"Right." She rubbed her forehead. Now that he'd mentioned it, she started remembering parts of the last night. "I… Sorry about that. I hope you at least got some rest?"

"Oh, yeah, don't worry. I slept on the sofa. Hope you don't mind."

Shepard bit on her lip.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel unwelcome when I was… you know, on drugs. You know I…" She sighed. "You know I don't mind sharing a bed. Even if it gets cramped a bit." She looked down, smiling a bit. "I actually really like sleeping next to you. You make that noise I… It's very soothing. And you look so relaxed when you're asleep… Calms me down, too."

"Have you been… watching me sleep?" Garrus tilted his head.

Shepard blushed. "Uh… That depends. Have you been watching me sleep, maybe? Hopefully?" Under all the morning sluggishness that clouded her mind, she was painfully aware that she wasn't fully awake yet and her defense wasn't great.

"Hm." Garrus shook his head with a soft laugh. "You're cute, Shepard."

"That's my line," she managed to notice.

She set down her coffee on the coffee table. It was a short contemplation between the empty sofa and the armchair Garrus was sitting in, but it was early enough in the morning that she chose the latter.

"Uh… Shepard?" Garrus visibly stiffened when she sat down between his thighs. "What are you—"

"Shh," she shushed him gently. "Just… let me finish my coffee." She leaned back, resting her head on his carapace. Not the most comfortable of positions to cuddle, maybe, but it was so early that she didn't really care about that. Besides, as soon as he started purring, the soft vibration more than made up for the lack of softness in his body.

Shepard liked when he did that. It was like a physical affirmation of his affection for her. The sound had initially reminded her of the purring of cats back on Earth, but with time she'd learned to differentiate between the two. It didn't sound so similar to her anymore. Turian purring was far more subtle than a cat's. It was simply softer. Higher-pitched, too - though maybe that was just Garrus. And from what she'd noticed, it was something that could be consciously controlled—at least to some extent.

She looked up when she felt Garrus run his fingers through her hair.

"Bedhead got you interested too?" She chuckled. He really had something of an obsession with her hair.

"I was just thinking…" His words sounded weirdly melodic when her head was pressed against his chest. It was as if she could hear yet another layer to his voice. It was nice. Like humming. "About that thing you do when you pin your hair up." He gently pulled her hair from covering her face. "You had it on our first… official date. Remember?"

"That was five months ago, Garrus. Or six? Five." She took a sip of her coffee. It was not good. "I don't remember."

"It's not important. I just wanted to tell you… I love your hair." He chuckled and Shepard blushed at how rich it sounded with the added dimension of that background humming.

She smiled widely as a new idea came to her head. She put down her coffee.

"Wanna see something cool?"

"That depends." Garrus moved his hand down her arm. "How dangerous is it? And remember, just because you're not in the hospital doesn't mean you're not injured. You should take it easy for a while."

Shepard rolled her eyes even though he couldn't see it.

"It's not that kind of cool. Just… You'll like it, okay? Promise."

It took him a second to answer. "Okay. What do I do?"

She closed her eyes, hoping it would help her visualise.

"Divide my hair into three sections."

"Um…" She could tell he was hesitating. "What if I pull too hard?"

"Trust me on this one; it takes a surprising lot of strength to pull out human hair right from the scalp. And I'll tell you if it hurts."

"Okay," Garrus said after a while. "I think they're even."

"Great. Now put the right one in the middle. Then the left one and try to tighten it a bit." She could tell Garrus was doing his best to follow the instruction, even if he didn't pull on her hair at all. He was being careful much more than he needed to. She smiled. "Now you'll take the one on the right and put it into the middle again, and so on… You following so far?"

"Uh…" Garrus hummed a displeased note. "I understand the theory, but it's not working out so great in practice… It keeps unraveling."

"It's okay. These things take practice. It's probably harder with three fingers, too. Want me to show you?"

"I got it," he protested. Shepard smiled to herself. And there goes his stupid pride again. A short silence while he did his best to braid her hair properly. "This is kind of fun, actually. Turians don't do anything like this. I don't think I can even draw a comparison to— to anything."

"If you want, we can look up lots of different versions. Then you can braid my hair whenever. It'll be like having my own personal hairstylist."

Garrus stopped. He let go of her hair, too.

"Are you okay?" Shepard turned back. "Was it something I said?"

"No, I…" He looked away. "It's just… I've been thinking about something lately and… Never mind." He paused. "Thanks for showing this to me. It's calming. I really like it." He put his mouth plates to her forehead in an imitation of a kiss. "You awake yet?"

"I think so."

"Good." Garrus took her hand, pulling her along as he stood up. "Here. I'll help you change your bandages."

Shepard could feel her muscles twitch involuntarily. "Do we have to?"

Garrus quirked up a brow plate and she absolutely hated that he'd picked up that gesture from her.

"Strip," he ordered.

She sighed. "You're terrible." Nonetheless, she reluctantly pulled off her shirt. Much to her dismay, there was a bit of blood on the surgical dressing around her abdomen. It was just small traces, not like the wound had opened, but it still worried her. Must have accidentally disturbed it when I stretched out in the morning.

Garrus was looking at the very same thing, but she couldn't tell if he was disappointed or rather concerned.

"How much does it hurt?" he asked.

"Just the normal amount. Not at all when I sit still."

Garrus nodded.

"I couldn't sleep last night, so I read up on human biology…" He gently placed his hand on Shepard's chest, just above the wound. "Is this okay?"

She nodded. She knew this would hurt, but it was far from the worst part.

"You haven't been feeling nauseous or dizzy, have you?" Garrus started slowly unwinding the bandages. Shepard shook her head without a word. "And you don't have a fever, right?"

"I mean, I guess not?"

"I wanted to check but it's hard for me to tell. Your body temperature's different." He wasn't looking straight at her while he spoke, focused only on the task at hand.

"I see you've expanded your duties from hair stylist to nurse. What else should I expect to owe you?"

After that, he did stop. Hands full of bloodied bandages, he raised his eyes at her - those terrifyingly blue eyes, for once not hidden behind a visor or AR goggles. His eyes could really see through her.

"What in the hell do you mean by that?"

His tone was firm, and so was his grip on her when he grabbed her forearm. She couldn't escape from his eyes, so full of that emotion that she still didn't know was disappointment or concern.

"I just… can't help but feel that I'm only stacking up a debt." She tightened her lips. "I told you I hate debts. And I have no idea how much I even owe you at this point. We fight, we make up, that's life. But all of this? You're losing sleep because of me, skipping meals - because I'm sure as hell you didn't even think to have breakfast today - and… I hate it. I just don't know how I can ever repay you if this keeps on. I just…"

Garrus groaned.

"You are such an idiot, Shepard."

Ah. So disappointment, then.

He hid his face in his hand.

"Seriously?!" He looked up at her. "Debt? That's how you think? I'm not doing you a favor and I'm certainly not expecting you to repay me somehow later. This is just me being there for you. Because I care about you, not because I'm expecting anything. This is… just me. No strings attached, no damn debts or favors or however you see this. So why don't you just shut up and let me do this for you?"

Shepard didn't know if she was blushing because she was embarrassed or because she just fucking loved him so much.

"Smartass," she whispered.

"Didn't I just tell you to shut up?" Garrus finished unraveling the bandages and discarded them on the floor.

"I," Shepard laughed, "don't take orders from you." She winced. "Ow."

"Don't laugh now." Garrus placed the fresh gauze over the stitched-up wound. "And if you have to, press a pillow to your wound first. It'll lessen the pain. Bandages?"

Shepard smirked as she passed him what he asked for.

"This brings back memories."

His mandibles twitched a bit when he caught on what she was talking about.

"I don't really recall changing your dressing during the war. The only time I did, you were unconscious. Back then, I was scared you'd shoot me if I tried to help."

Shepard rolled her eyes.

"I didn't even have a gun."

"Oh, come on. Have you seen yourself in full battle gear? I was right to be terrified."

"Uh-huh. Sure. And where, pray tell, did that fear get you?"

Garrus flared his mandibles in a sly smirk.

"Won you over, didn't I?"

"Only because you stopped being afraid," Shepard pointed out. "Not sure if you noticed, but you just called me out and literally ordered me to shut up."

"And yet you're still talking." Garrus feigned a sigh. "Woe is me."

Shepard smiled. "I love you."

"Yeah. I… That's what I meant." He clicked his mandibles, a bit ruffled. "I… I was a damn fool to ever take it for granted. And I…" He kept avoiding her gaze, looking anywhere but at her face. "I've been thinking a lot. I mean, about us. Especially after what happened… Well… Um. I thought that we could, uh…"

"Garrus, if there's something you want to say, just say it."

He shut his eyes. "What if we both lived in the same place?!"

Shepard opened her mouth. Slowly, it turned into a smile as the meaning of his words came to her.

"Are you asking me to move in with you?" she whispered.

"I mean... You with me, me with you, I— I'm flexible. But yes. That's the core premise. I..." Garrus twitched his nose. "I don't know if this is too soon. We've only been dating for six months, but... I hate coming home and you're not there. And, and! We keep staying over at each other's place all the time anyway! I just..." He drifted off, seeing how she was just looking at him. Abashed, he looked down. "I just... thought it made sense."

Shepard grabbed his hands.

"It does. It's... Yes. Let's do that."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You're right, it makes sense. I want to." She put her hand on his mandible and stroked his cheek with her thumb, smiling absently. "I… love you, Garrus. So much."

"I love you too, Shepard." He nuzzled up to her hand on his face, his own fingers closing around hers on his cheek. "You've no idea how much it hurt to think you'd died."

"I'm still here," she whispered. Their foreheads rested against each other. "And I'm right where I want to be." Her stomach growled and she was reminded that she still hadn't eaten anything—and neither had her idiot boyfriend who'd woken up even earlier than her. Awkwardly, she pulled away. "But first, we do breakfast."

Garrus cleared his throat. "Yeah. We probably should." He took one last critical look at the fresh dressing on her wounds. "Okay. I think we're about done here." He stood up awkwardly. "Kind of concerning how good I am at patching up wounded humans."

"As long as you hang around me, it's gonna be a useful skill to have." Shepard picked up her shirt. "Can't promise you safe, but I can promise interesting."

Garrus smiled.

"I'll take it."

"There you go." Shepard set down the plate. "Didn't have a lot to work with, but it's something."

"Thanks." Garrus stabbed his food with a fork. It seemed edible, at least. (He wasn't so sure Shepard knew what she was doing when cooking turian food.) He carefully took a bite. It was bland, but not terrible.

Shepard sat down next to him. The full meal on her plate looked incredibly appealing in comparison to his simple one. Smelled better, too.

"What's that…'' His nose twitched involuntarily. "Meat? It looks good."

Shepard smirked. "Of course. Should have figured bacon would be the thing to get to you. What are turians even? Carnivores?"

"A good chunk of us, yeah. Technically speaking, we can get all necessary nutrients from meat alone… Don't have to, though. We're perfectly capable of digesting plant-based foods. These days, plenty of turians go vegetarian. Easier access to dextro food, and you don't have to worry about other species looking at you weird in restaurants…" Garrus leaned back in his chair. "You know, you never did answer when I asked you the same question."

"Omnivorous." Shepard stabbed her fork into the egg on her plate. "I wasn't going to say that to an alien, you know. Far as I was aware, your food was poison."

"Fair enough," he chuckled. She'd been closer to the truth than she'd known.

Garrus tried to focus on eating his food without being distracted by how good Shepard's breakfast smelled.

He absently tapped his fingers on the table.

"What do you plan to do now?"

"I don't know." Shepard kept her eyes on her plate. "Probably clean up this mess. It's not my mess, but I have a weird feeling that if I don't do anything, no one else will."

"That seems likely."

"Turian-human relations took a pretty bad hit there. Damn! I've been working on that so hard, too. Almost got their government to pay war reparations."

Garrus cleared his throat. She was doing it again, acting as if he weren't a turian.

"Oh, relax. I just mean… You work for me, with humans… You do realize your salary comes from the human government? So I guess that makes you an honorary human or something."

"Great," Garrus said, not sparing any sarcasm. He gathered up the dishes and put them in the sink. What the hell did she need such a big apartment for? "Still. You didn't really answer; what are you going to do now?"

"About those terrorists?" Shepard shrugged. "I imagine it's not my place to decide. Besides, this isn't exactly the type of warfare I'm used to. If they need soldiers, I'll gladly sign up. For now, I'm needed here…" She pursed her lips, staring at the floor. "Either way, I should get to work." She threw her jacket over her shoulders. "I recommend you do the same. We've wasted enough time today as it is."

"You're not going out alone," Garrus protested quickly when he saw that she was about to head out.

Shepard looked at him, half-convinced he was joking. She raised an eyebrow.

"You're… kidding, right?"

He stood up.

"It's not my idea," he said defensively. "Council wants you to take on a bodyguard from now on, at least for a while." He looked away. "They recommended it to all human politicians on the Citadel."

"And I suppose you volunteered for that job?"

"I didn't. I have… other things to do." Garrus involuntarily clenched his fists. "Besides, it probably shouldn't be a turian. I don't think anyone would trust me with your safety."

"Garrus…"

"I know you would. But that's not the point."

When had they gotten so in sync that he didn't have to hear her say it aloud? At this point, Garrus couldn't remember. It had always been easy with her, hadn't it? Not ridiculously easy, not no-effort-required easy, but just simple enough that it came naturally to him.

"No."

He flared his mandibles, slightly irritated. He understood where she was coming from, but he really wasn't in the mood to argue right now.

"Shepard, please. It's not a big deal. Just take whoever they assign to you and let them at least pretend to guard you for a while. At least until this blows over."

"And what if it doesn't blow over? I'm not taking that chance, Garrus. There's been racial tensions between turians and humans ever since the very beginning. I never let it affect my job. I'm not going to let it start affecting it now. Find me a turian bodyguard."

"Shepard, that's not a good idea."

"Maybe not. But maybe it is. I want people to see me with a turian in public now more than ever. This is racism, Garrus. I am not going to let it slide." She crossed her arms with that pout that Garrus knew well enough to know there was no point in arguing. She wasn't going to change her mind. "Just because the bastard who shot me was a turian doesn't mean we should all start being suspicious of one another. That's exactly what they want. Well, I'm not giving them the satisfaction." She narrowed her brows. "Make sure that this goes out to the Council too. I don't give a crap what they think of it; I have the right to choose my own bodyguard. I want a turian, preferably with a military background, preferably around your age or younger. I'm sure they can find someone like that on the Citadel. Are you taking notes?"

Garrus sighed.

"Since when am I your assistant?" he complained.

He didn't get an answer.

Shepard didn't have an assistant. She figured that was a job better suited for a VI than a person. Except she didn't have a VI, either.

She was painfully aware of this fact when she came back to work a few days after the assassination attempt on her and found herself completely lost. Everyone was perfectly pleasant and offered their help, of course, but they all sent shifty glances at the young turian agent accompanying her. Shepard had to admit, she was a little disappointed in her co-workers. She'd been trying to make them as open-minded as possible, as friendly towards other species as possible. Was one incident really enough to undermine all that work?

She motioned for the turian to wait outside her office while she rather gracelessly fell onto her chair. There were a few stacks of documents on her desk, and quite a few datapads.

Shepard pressed down on the intercom.

"Jorlan?" she called out.

The salarian appeared at the door to her office almost immediately.

"Ambassador."

She motioned for him to step inside.

"It's been a hectic few days," she said tersely. "I'm a little out of the loop - as you can probably tell. Are there any urgent matters I need to attend to?"

"No, ma'am, none except for the only natural panic response. Worth noting, a spontaneous rise in sympathy for humans from various races. You received several wishes of good will from dignitaries and other officials; mostly simple cards." He cleared his throat. "A token flower wreath from the turian embassy."

"Figures." Shepard let out an exasperated sigh. "Anything else?"

"C-Sec is still interrogating the assassin; confirmed his ties to an infamous turian separatist group. Violent against humans, violent against turians." Jorlan blinked, his large pupils dilating slightly. "As for official matters, nothing that needs acting right away. Several immigration requests and the such waiting for your approval; I placed them on your desk."

"Thanks." Shepard made the effort to smile. "I appreciate you working so hard to keep things running here while I'm recovering."

"Of course." The salarian bowed his head. "Ambassador."

He left the office and Shepard waited until the automatic door had closed behind him to bury her face in her hands.

Almost all the work she'd been doing had been set back by this. It was almost as if she was back at ground zero. Almost. The good diplomatic relations between turians and humans were as good as gone; she had worked so hard to build some sort of peace and for what? This destruction of months of her hard work hurt just as much as the physical wound.

Shepard sighed, reaching for one of the datapads.

Immigration request - yet another one. A farmer who'd lived on the Shanxi colony wanted to move his entire family onto the Citadel after their original house had been destroyed in the war.

Shepard hesitated before approving this one because it felt more like a refugee situation rather than emigration, but the man's wife had a steady income that could easily support them, so she eventually approved it.

She looked at the next file. Another immigration request. A twenty-four-year-old who'd just finished medical studies. Shepard immediately approved the request. There weren't almost any human doctors on the Citadel; this person would have no trouble finding a job for themself.

The next file was a request for a… She narrowed her brows. A marriage license? Why the hell would that be forwarded to the embassy instead of straight away to the government on Earth?

Shepard felt her brow twitching as she read the file.

This has got to be a joke.

Some woman wanted to get married to her asari girlfriend. Humans weren't recognized by the marital laws in Citadel space just yet, and no human judiciary system recognized aliens as plausible marriage candidates. Shepard racked her brain, but as far as she could see, an official union was pretty much impossible.

First order of business would have to be adjusting all the laws on Earth to count in the idea that humans aren't the only sapient species. Working in this new species into the Council law would probably take a few months yet, but she was certain the human court system was going to take much longer with implementing this change. Even then the chances that interspecies marriages could be made legal were slim. Humans were funny about differences even amongst themselves; Shepard had little hope her species was going to start accepting others easily and quickly.

With a heavy heart, she eventually logged the request as denied.

She reached for the next datapad, but instead of taking it, her hand hovered a few centimeters away as she hesitated.

"Ah, damn it."

She opened her mail and created a new message.

Dear Ms Lee,

She erased it.

Ms Lee,

I regret to inform you th

Erased again.

I'm sad to say that

Once more, she abused the delete key.

I recently looked into your request for a marriage license. Sadly, I could not approve it.

I am sorry to say that it might well be years until I am able to respond to your request approvingly. In that time, I suggest

Her finger hovered over the delete key for a moment, but eventually, she decided to redo the entire sentence.

Until then, my personal suggestion would be for you and your partner to partake in a religious or spiritual wedding ceremony instead. There are several chapels and non-government facilities on the Citadel (which was named as your current abode) that offer the services I described.

I am sorry

Delete.

I'm sorry

Delete.

I am sorry I couldn't help you

Delete again.

Despite my deep regret that there's nothing I can do for you, I remain optimistic about the future and wish you luck and happiness in your marriage, whatever form you choose for it to have.

My best regards,

Ambassador Jane Shepard

Systems Alliance

Citadel Council

Too many credentials. She deleted the last couple of lines.

She rubbed her forehead. Should I send this? She wasn't so sure why she'd empathized with this woman so strongly or why she felt the need to apologize for what wasn't even remotely her fault. Maybe because things like this helped her see the small picture too; ever since she'd started this job, all too often individual people melted into a number, just another statistic to take into account. She had to remember that those were all very real people that she was dealing with. Real people with real problems and real reasons for the things they asked of her.

She approved the next immigration request almost immediately.

To: Cdr Jane A. Shepard, Citadel Council Embassies

From: Kathleen Lee

Ms Shepard,

When I received your message a few days ago, I didn't know what to feel. I knew the chances for approval were low, but I was still saddened. Even so, thank you for trying. You're the first government official who looked at my request sympathetically.

Your advice felt very heartfelt and honest. I have since discussed various unofficial marriage ceremonies with my partner, and I'm happy to say that we're planning to hold one in the spring.

I hope you won't take it the wrong way when I say that I read about you online after you'd contacted me. Your statement regarding turian/human relations really struck a chord with me. I was also surprised to see photos of you amicably talking with various aliens, especially turians and salarians. It warms my heart to know there's people like you representing humanity out there. Keep up the good work!

Kathleen Lee