Well hey there everyone! First let me apologize for the long delay on this chapter. Life and school got in the way. However, this is almost double the length of my previous chapters, so I hope that helps to make up for the wait. As a side note, you'll notice this story is down a chapter from when I first published it. This is not a mistake. I removed the original chapter one because it didn't actually fit in with my story. I had been hasty in my original publishing. However, for those of your that had a chance to read it, I think you'll agree that it contributed very little to the story. I can promise that something like this will never happen again. I did not take removing content lightly.

Many thanks to my reviewers and those of you that have followed and favorited the story! Your contributions really help me keep going with this! Finally, a special shout out is also in order for my lovely beta, Ablated Crayon. Your help with my writing is without equal :]

Chapter 6

Betting on You

A cry rang out into the room as Karin Chakwas rubbed the newborn into a soft pink. She cut the umbilical cord and took a soft cloth to gently clean the baby. She smiled at the blonde shock of hair that was so similar to her mother's before holding the baby up for Hannah Shepard to see.

"It's a beautiful baby girl," Karin crooned.

Hannah turned her head away. "Great. John wanted a girl. It's like he's pissing on me even after the divorce."

Karin frowned at her while continuing to rock the little baby. "I know you never wanted children, and John obviously wanted to take the baby. Why wouldn't you let him?"

"Call it a silly moment of sentimentality. Neither one of us will be able to give her much of our time; it's the truth of military life. I'm a higher pay grade, so I thought I could at least give her more than him. Besides, I got you in the divorce, Karin. If anyone is going to be a real mother to this child, we both know it's going to be you. You fell in love with this kid the minute I told you I was pregnant," Hannah said, propping herself up on an elbow.

"Really? It's not because you were so mad at John that you just wanted to do anything to spite him?" Karin asked sternly. Hannah looked away with guilt; Karin had always read her so well.

"It's done now. The papers are signed and he's on the other side of the galaxy," Hannah said.

"It's not too late, Hannah. I know you wouldn't want to keep a baby out of spite," Karin frowned. Hannah waved her concerns away, clearly done with the conversation.

"Look, I've made up my mind. The kid is mine. Now, will you get me patched up? I want to go back on duty tomorrow," Hannah said.

"Aren't you going to name her first?" Karin asked in disbelief.

"I'm not a mother, Karin," Hannah said as she slid to the side of the bed. She closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck. "Maybe her middle name could be Marie, after my mother."

"A lovely name, Hannah. What about her first name?" Karin asked.

"I…I don't know," Hannah stuttered. "Karin maybe?"

Karin softened at her words, but shook her head. "I appreciate the thought, but I don't think it's quite right for this little one. What about Evelyn? It was the name I had picked out when…if I ever had a daughter," Karin swallowed hard.

"Evelyn Marie Shepard," Hannah rolled the name around. She looked over to where Karin still held the baby. Karin held Evelyn out for Hannah to take, but Hannah turned her head. Karin clutched the baby back to her chest and crooned in her ear, swaying gently.

"It's not exactly the name of a future soldier," Hannah replied coldly, never imagining a child of hers could choose another profession.

"I think this one will be more than just a soldier, Hannah," Karin said.

XXX

Garrus

I woke up with my face on fire. Maybe I was being dramatic, but the whole damn side hurt. I reached a hand up to touch the offending area before a soft hand sternly pushed mine down. Bright fluorescents glared down into my vision, and I blinked as a pair of silver-blue eyes appeared above me.

"Chakwas," I croaked. "I should've known you'd be here too."

"Good to see you're awake, Garrus," the doctor smiled. "I've got some synthetic grafts holding the side of your face together, but it'll scar a bit."

"Damn, all those turian ladies lining up at my door are going to be so disappointed," I chuckled, trying to wink and failing when it pulled on the injured side of my face.

Chakwas laughed as she patted me on the shoulder. She slid an arm around my back, and helped me prop myself up on the pillows. In addition to the pain in my face, my whole body felt heavy and it took most of my willpower to keep my eyelids open after going so long without sleep. Although I had to admit that the smallest amount of rest had worked wonders and my mind already felt clearer. My eyes scanned the medbay, noticing how much brighter it was to the one I remembered aboard the SR-1. Some Cerberus lackey had also gone a little overboard with the Cerberus logo, which was apparently stuck to any surface they could reach. I gave a bemused grimace at the show of possession.

"I have to say, Doc, I never would have imagined you or Shepard on a Cerberus vessel. I seem to remember our run-ins with them being unpleasant," I said, fixing the doctor with a stare, "though my memories could be rusty after all this time."

Chakwas bristled and gave me a light smack on the shoulder, her face trying to look stern but breaking under a smile. I had always been fond of the older lady, who bustled about like a mother to the whole ship.

"I imagine my reasoning for being here is much the same as yours, my dear. They told me Shepard was alive and needed a Chief Medical Officer on her new ship. Naturally, I came running," Chakwas explained.

"Not to mention that if some Cerberus prick were down here, Shepard would never get her injuries checked out," I laughed.

"Ah, yes, the stubborn child always hated even the most routine checkups. She and Jeff share the same problem, and I've got my hands full chasing after the two of them," Chakwas said, trying to act exasperated, but I knew she really enjoyed it. I vividly recalled one of Shepard's stints in the medbay where she was so determined that she was fine that Chakwas stayed awake for an entire day to make sure Shepard wouldn't start pulling out IV's. She was the only one who could slap Shepard's hands away and actually live to tell about it. The crazy old woman was smiling the whole time.

"And Joker's here too? Honestly, Doc, no one here is worried about working with Cerberus?" I asked, shaking my head gently in disbelief.

"I think you'll find that working with Cerberus has made the commander rather angry, Garrus. She knows it's for the greater good, as do we all, but her experience on Akuze is not easily forgiven," Chakwas hesitated. "However, we all realize that Cerberus will likely betray us in the future."

"Ah, so we're playing nice, but sleeping with our guns? Unfortunately, that sounds about right for one of Shepard's rodeos. About Joker though: he and the commander, they're…alright?" I asked.

Chakwas smiled at me kindly before she answered, "If you're concerned about Shepard holding a grudge against Joker, you'll be quite relieved to hear she has done no such thing. Joker had, unfortunately, spent the last two years wallowing in his guilt, the details of which I leave to you to find on your own, but the commander walked right up to him and said, 'Thank God I saved you.' They've been cracking jokes about the old days ever since, though I have noticed that their interactions are still a little tense."

"Good. I was afraid after…" I said, but Chakwas interrupted.

"She's hurting, Garrus, but she's still our Shepard," she said, her voice rough. She jumped at the sound of the door opening, her hand gripping the back of the chair she stood behind.

"How's my favorite turian vigilante doing, Doc?" Shepard called, making her entrance into the room. She had changed out of her armor into a casual black uniform that bore a Cerberus logo over her heart. I smiled as I thought about all the times Shepard had probably considered burning that logo off. She crossed to where Chakwas stood, placing a hand on the doctor's shoulder with a smile.

"And how many turian vigilantes do you actually know, Commander?" I teased while trying to sit up straighter and look alert.

"I'm starting to think I know one too many," she grinned. "You're a little more trouble than you're worth!"

"Hardly!" I laughed, stopping when my face hurt. "I seem to remember pulling an Alliance soldier's ass out of the fire enough to justify this little detour."

"Well, I'm not Alliance anymore, Garrus," Shepard murmured. Her expression darkened almost immediately.

"I know; I'm not blind. What's up with that anyway? I thought the Alliance would be thrilled to see their poster girl returned from the dead," I chucked, trying to lighten her up again.

Shepard stepped away from Chakwas and started to pace next to my bed in agitation. "I did do my homework, Garrus. The Alliance wasn't doing anything about these colony abductions. Cerberus spent two years putting me back together, and then they asked me to fight an enemy that everyone else is ignoring. How could I say no?" Shepard said.

"So, you feel like you owe something to Cerberus?" I asked as my face twitched in disgust.

Shepard turned her glare towards me, halting her frantic pacing. "Hell no! They ruined my life and took the lives of 50 other marines on Akuze. The least they could do is rebuild me," Shepard exclaimed. "I know I'm doing this for the right reasons. It just doesn't feel that way yet."

Shepard gave Chakwas a small smile before starting towards the door. "You rest up, Garrus. When you're feeling better, we'll test drive the bar over in the lounge," Shepard smirked, all previous signs of her emotional battle wiped from her face.

I gave a weak wave before collapsing back against the pillows with my thoughts racing. Shepard had been so warm and unreserved. Hell, she had even let me hug her back on Omega. Chakwas saw my confusion and gave me a small smile.

"Wow, just when I was getting used to her ice queen routine, she drops it. What's that all about?" I asked.

"Maybe she's finally started making exceptions for old friends," Chakwas suggested gently.

I did my best to rest, but my scales were itching to look around the new ship. My restless flip flopping on my bed finally seemed to annoy Chakwas, who suggested I was probably strong enough to walk to the mess for a fresh glass of water. The medications she had given me had made my mouth so dry and I couldn't seem to drink enough water to make it feel normal.

I said my thanks to Chakwas and walked carefully out of the medbay. My muscles felt stiff after the overuse and the stimulants I had used to keep myself going in the base. I hesitated against the medbay door, gathering my breath and letting the spinning in my head stop before ruefully admitting to myself that I might need an extra day before I could report for field action. Pushing off the wall again, my eyes fell on the mess, and I was overwhelmed with the startling sameness it shared with the original Normandy. It wasn't like the medbay where it only looked a little similar. This was almost the exact space I remembered, but with an additional divider and a kitchen where Aleko's station used to be. I was hit with a moment of pleasant homecoming, followed closely by longing when I saw the Cerberus crew and was reminded that I wasn't on the SR-1. Those crew members sat around the table, but they grew quiet as I drew closer to the table, looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. For a moment, I was lost in a feeling of déjà vu; the same thing had happened to me before, during my first few days on the Normandy.

It was my second day on board the Normandy, and I would be lying if my scales weren't itching with excitement. The opportunity to go trawling about the galaxy with orders to take down that asshole Saren was one I never thought I would be offered. I was even given the chance to work with my own bonafide Spectre, Commander Shepard. Boy was it a relief after constantly chafing my ass against the red tape in C-Sec. The air on the Normandy felt light as I tried to keep myself from grinning like an idiot. Turians are drilled to be serious soldiers one-hundred percent of the time, but, hell, I had never been good at that anyway.

My moment of giddiness slowly ebbed away when I walked into the mess. The previously raucous Alliance soldiers had become subdued, their faces pinched with distrust. Crew members I had pleasantly talked with an hour before averted their eyes, hoping I wouldn't notice them as they darted glances to their friends to see their reaction. I schooled my face into a look of disinterest and steadily walked to retrieve my dinner where it sat to the right. The red tray, bowl, and plate marked it clearly as dextro food, and a second one lay beside it for Tali. Before, I had thought stark difference in coloring a useful precaution, but now it served only to mark me as foreign, alien. Only years of training kept my mandibles from flaring out with my irritation, not, I figured, that the humans would recognize the sign anyway. I did manage to commandeer a spot at the corner of the table, and watched as the fearless Alliance soldiers tried to subtly put more space between us. The bitter taste in my mouth only grew when my eyes fell on Ashley, who was whispering with Navigator Pressly and stealing glances over at me. Fine, I guess saving your ass in the field doesn't automatically warrant some table manners. Noted, Chief Williams, I thought wryly to myself. Damn, if I didn't feel like shit in that moment. I was a scary turian that apparently could be taken down by childish lunchroom politics.

I felt her presence before I saw her. I turned my head to see the commander come around the elevator wall, where she paused briefly to survey the activity in the mess. I saw the edges of her mouth quirk up briefly at the wild soldiers, who had quickly resumed their usual behavior after I had settled into my place apart from them. The Alliance was Shepard's life; it gave her a place in the world. I had seen that look of contentment on many a soldier's face, but I had yet to feel the safety in it that so many spoke of. I might look at a group of turian soldiers and become awash with a feeling of nostalgia for my military days, but I had always hungered for more. I wanted to see more, do more than the clear lines of the military allowed me to. I wondered if it were the same for the commander, but that maybe she could feel such warmth for the confines of military life because she somehow managed to sit outside of the lines drawn for her. If there was such thing as Alliance royalty, it would be Shepard. Her blood ran Alliance blue through several generations on each side, she had influence with several people high up in the Alliance brass, plus she was one of the youngest ever to complete the N7 program, an accomplishment even turians could admire.

When the Council had been considering Shepard as a Spectre candidate, they had been provided her complete service record by the Alliance. Considering my family's pull in the Turian Matriarchy, and the fact that I'd rarely asked for favors, it only took a few phone calls to get Councilor Sparatus to send over the file. Afterwards, I had spent hours enraptured by its contents. However, it wasn't her medals or scores that caught my attention. It was how wonderfully imperfect the file was. She had several write ups, as well as numerous displeased notes from superior officers, but they had become buried and unnoticed. She apparently didn't work well with the officers put above her, but instead of trying to break her, the Alliance had simply given her higher commands. Had I discovered this before meeting her, I would've frowned in displeasure, thinking it obvious corruption and favoritism. Now I knew this only happened with Shepard because, well, she worked. I doubted the Alliance had yet to find an assignment that Shepard couldn't pull off with flawless precision; it was a wonder she wasn't a cocky jerk. I envied that pure confidence in abilities that allowed her to face down a superior and know they wouldn't do anything but give her a slap on the wrist.

Shepard's eyes finally hit me and traced over the invisible line that the other soldiers had drawn between me and them, and I could see the change in her mood immediately. Her brows furrowed down and her lips pressed down until they became white with anger. It was a surprising reaction, given all I had come to know about the commander, not only through personal experience but anecdotes from some of the more friendly Alliance soldiers. Her personal interactions with the general crew was most often described as aloof or cold, and I was told she didn't like involving herself in their personal matters unless it was affecting her mission. Therefore, I completely expected her to grab her portion of food and retreat into the quiet solitude of her cabin, where turians and their friendless lunches didn't exist. Imagine my surprise when I heard her walk up behind me with her steaming tray of food and move to sit, not across from me, but directly to my right and so close that our elbows touched. The grumbles from the other soldiers started almost immediately; the worst offender's uniform name tag read "Fern". I wasn't great at telling human ages, but Fern looked young, younger than Shepard, and his eyes burned with contempt as he glared at me.

"You know how they picked the crew for this ship, Garrus?" Shepard asked. Her voice was kept low, rumbling out conversationally at a level that only I could hear. I shook my head in answer to her question so she continued, "The Alliance wanted only the best for the Normandy's crew; image is a powerful thing, after all. We wouldn't want the future Cat-6's running around, yeah? So they let Captain Anderson hand pick most of his crew, and filled in the lower, less important spots with basic personnel that had good records. Anderson chose almost all hardened veterans that he either knew of by personal experience or secondhand because of their exceptional reputation. He chose a good bunch, you know."

I could see the anger that built beneath the surface of Shepard's skin, hardening into the ice that filled her eyes. Her face at that moment reminded me of the brief encounter I had had with Hannah Shepard, her mother, on the Citadel. The woman had been visiting the Citadel and I ran into her while she was yelling at some diplomat, her emotions boiling over into fire hot rage. It was strange to see her daughter react in an opposite manner; she became calmer as her cold anger froze her features into a mask that mocked others with its serenity when the situation called for anything but. That mask now turned toward Fern as the commander continued her description of the crew.

"You see, Fern there was one of the exceptions in this process," Shepard began, her voice becoming slightly more audible. Fern had caught the mention of his name and his posture showed how obviously he had begun to listen to the conversation. "He's never worked with Anderson before, and he is anything but a hardened veteran. In fact, he was slotted for this crew based on his pure potential. He had excellent Academy scores, and performed well on his first assignment; I even found a note in his file that mused on his eligibility to enter into the N program. Funny how pushing through the paperwork on that kind of opportunity completely depends on his commanding officer's opinion. Too bad the grunt hasn't impressed me; he seems to be making the wrong friends," Shepard finished, driving her point home and patting me on the arm. I saw the twitch of a smirk on her mouth as she watched Fern's face change from an indignant red to a fearful white before his head hung in embarrassment.

I felt the atmosphere change again, as soldiers began trying to look ashamed and apologetic. Ashley Williams shuffled over and plopped down with a tray of food before giving me a small smile in apology. Her posture was still stiff, and I knew this didn't mean we were friends, but it was a step in the right direction, even if I thought she might only be doing it to gain the commander's approval. Another soldier that I had conversed with earlier finally found how to meet my eyes again, and he stood up to join the new turian fan club as well. I still felt awkward and childish that I had needed my commanding officer to earn me lunch table companions, but I couldn't stop my admiration of the complex and contradictory person that had decided I was worth stepping in for.

XXX

I smiled as I remembered my initial impressions of Shepard. Her lower deck Ice Queen title had eventually become a joke in my mind; Shepard was cold and distant, but jarringly kind and would come to the aid of anyone in her crew. I started to see the façade as somewhat of cover for Shepard's social handicaps, but, Spirits, she would kill me if I ever told her that. She had begun thawing out so spectacularly at the end, even joking around with the rest of us in the mess instead of retreating to her cabin. I forgot how much I missed those evenings with all those Alliance soldiers. They really had grown on me.

I pushed off from my place on the wall and headed to my right. I didn't want to tour the ship without Shepard, but I couldn't resist making a short trip to the battery. Chakwas had casually mentioned its location, probably to get me and my fidgeting out of her medbay. It was a short trip, but I remained within eyesight of the Cerberus crew eating their lunch, and I could feel their eyes following me down the hall. I halted by the battery door, which was closed, but, luckily, remained unlocked. I hit the big green button quickly, sighing when the door slid shut behind me. I let myself lean back against the door in relief, at the familiar hum and at the escape of hostile glares. I wondered if this was what it was going to be like during the entire mission; surely some of the Cerberus members would warm up to me. I guess it didn't matter if they liked me, as long as they did their jobs right, but it would be nice to get rid of some of the hostility. I wonder if they treat Shepard like this? That could definitely become a problem, I thought to myself as I walked to the battery control panel. I might not have been part of C-Sec anymore, but respect for a commanding officer was something ingrained. It was necessary. As I fired up the battery controls, I made a mental note to watch the crew interact with Shepard.

I immediately dismissed the Cerberus diagnostics program, instead linking the systems to my omni-tool and running a program of my personal design. It had originated from the turian military, but I had taken a copy and fine-tuned it to my own specifications. I'd yet to find a program that could calibrate a system quite like my own. Some might find my lack of respect for the property of others disturbing; I, however, just attributed it to my long stint on Omega. Perhaps, I had never been good at following the rules anyway. I had willingly joined up with Shepard, after all. I watched the readings slide across the display intently, frowning as numbers lower than I expected continued to scroll past. It was at this moment, lost in my familiar work, that my brain suddenly pulled up in shock. Only a few days ago I had been certain I was going to die. I had given up all plans; all future paths had become dark and closed to me. Yet, for the second time, Shepard had stormed in and flipped the lights back on, and here I was moving along like it never even happened. I shook my head at it. Being with Shepard, even on a Cerberus ship, felt so right and so normal that I could almost forget that she had been dead and gone for two years, and that during that time I had allowed myself to descend into a darkness only halted by a betrayal and Shepard's intervention. The anger at Sidonis for causing the death of my team—and almost myself—ripped through me before I pushed it away, much as I had back in the base on Omega. It was a distraction and there was nothing I could do about that now; my place was here with Shepard. If I managed to track down Sidonis…well I would deal with that when the time came.

I moved to the side of the gun, expertly pulling off the side panel to reveal the inner circuits. At least the Cerberus engineers knew how to connect everything properly; nowadays everything was color coordinated anyway. There were still some tweaks I could make manually to improve the system before cleaning up the rest on the control panel, so I turned around and walked to the other side of the room to grab the tool chest that was fastened into the wall. Starting back, it was immediately obvious that the wires had been changed: into the exact configuration that would cause the gun to backfire and explode. I gaped at it for a moment before my eyes found a grinning Shepard leaned against the back wall of the battery, laughing at me. I hadn't even heard the woman come in, and that was saying something because the woman usually moved with the grace of a rhino.

"Ha, ha, very funny, Shepard," I said, making quick work of setting the circuits back to rights.

"I thought you'd like it," she responded while giving me a wink. "I can't believe the doctor gave you slack on your leash already. I expected you to be in chains for a least another two days. The Doc would've kept me for three; she's so overprotective."

"The doctor didn't give me slack; she practically sawed through the chains herself in an attempt to keep me from annoying her any farther. The doctor only gets away with keeping you for three days because someone uses the time to sleep like a coma patient instead of trying to leave," I teased back.

Shepard shrugged sheepishly with a grin. "I like to get my beauty sleep when it's offered," she said. Her freckles stood out against the paleness of her face, offsetting the beginnings of dark circles under her eyes, and I recognized it as a sign that she hadn't been sleeping. Whether it was from stress or nightmares, I wasn't sure; it could be both. It had been much the same before our run to Ilos all those years ago; the wall between the captain's cabin and the mess hadn't been particularly thick, and I had enjoyed regular midnight snacks. I knew of the problems that plagued her at night, but I had never asked her what they were about. Our relationship had never been one for those tricky things called emotions. I left that to Ashley. Shepard began to look uncomfortable under my inspection and she quickly moved us on to a safe topic, "Anyway, how's the new gun look? She's a beauty right?"

"She'll get there. The engineers only maintained efficiency; they didn't get her up to her full capacity. But don't worry; I'll make her sing for us in no time," I answered, giving the side of the gun an affectionate pat. Talking guns with Shepard brought me straight back to old times, and once again I was stuck by the sense of security I felt being back with Shepard. I didn't know what it was about her that affected me so much, but something about her very presence let me breathe easier, gave me strength. No matter what mood she was in, or what had happened to her personally, I knew she would be there for me and for the crew. That was something I hadn't always been able to say about a commanding officer.

"I'm glad it was you I pulled off that station, Garrus. Even if I'm doing the right thing by those colonists, there could be one hell of a shit storm at the end of this. If there were ever a time to have good friend with me, it's right now," Shepard said shrugging and breaking eye contact to look at the floor. "So, yeah, I'm glad that it's you, is all I'm trying to say."

"You're sure about this, Shepard? There is always another way, if you want out. You can go back to the Alliance and yell at them to do something. It doesn't have to be Cerberus," I assured her.

"I told you before, Garrus, Cerberus is my only option to help these colonists, especially if the attacks are related to the Reapers," Shepard replied, her tone frosting over. "Why are you still pushing me on this? I thought you of all people would understand."

I gave a dark little chuckle at the irony of the situation and rolled out my stiff neck before responding, "That's just it, isn't it, Shepard? Of course I understand; I'm nothing if not practical. You, on the other hand, have always been the idealist. You told me that there was always another way to do things, that we always have a choice."

Shepard looked agitated, and I was hit with the full force of her glare before she turned her back and stalked away from me. I thought she would just leave the room, like she had done many times before when a conversation took a turn she didn't like, but instead she came close to the door and whirled back around. She paced along this trajectory for a minute, spinning round when she reached a wall and doubling back until she repeated the motion on the other side.

"I may not have always believed it, Shepard, but you did," I continued. "I don't care that we're working for Cerberus. Our other options are assholes too; at least we know beforehand that the sword will drop with Cerberus. However, I have a hard time believing that death would have taken away your belief in choice, not when you had always held to it so tightly. You chose Cerberus, even after what they did. I believe you when you say you don't feel obligated to them for bringing you back. So what is it?" Shepard stopped her pacing to face me.

"There was something that Lawson said to me, that the Alliance wouldn't want me back, not when 'my blood was paid for by Cerberus.' And it's just...getting to me a little bit. I think I believe her. The Alliance and the Council wouldn't listen to me before when it came to the Reapers. And now, they'll have even more reason to discount what I say," Shepard explained, her hands on her hips as she faced me. "Why go fight with them, when all these resources were laid out for me already? I don't have to trust them, but if it gets the job done..." She shrugged again, letting the end of the sentence taper off and hang there.

"So what I heard was: you're afraid that the Alliance won't want you back, or you believe you don't deserve to go back. But if you join up with Cerberus, they won't want you anyway, so you don't have to worry about it and the job still gets done. That about it?" I countered, my heart actually racing as the words left my mouth. Shepard may be glad to have me back, but I was pushing it, and I knew it.

Her lip twitched once as she glared at me, her moment of openness gone. "That's not what I said Garrus; you know that isn't true."

I was at a wall with her, so I decided to let this one go. I knew we would come back to it eventually. "Whatever you say, boss lady. I'm here for you, and if you think that Cerberus is the best way to do this, then I'll make sure we're ready for whatever the Collectors throw at us...and whatever trap waits with Cerberus at the end," I smiled, effectively breaking the tense moment, and I saw Shepard relax once more. "So how about you give me that tour you mentioned earlier?"

She gave a small glance around, and started towards the elevator while I followed. "Well, you've seen the battery and the mess, and that's most of this deck. So how about we start at my cabin on deck one, and work our way down?"

"The lady propositions me so early?" I dramatically placed my talons on my chest the way I had seen in a human film. "I don't know what kind of turian you think I am, but I certainly will not join you in your cabin," I said loudly, grinning at the shocked Cerberus faces.

"Oh, shut up, Garrus," Shepard grinned, backhanding me on the chest.

The thump of her hand hitting me echoed around the suddenly quiet space, causing me to look back over my shoulder to the men sitting at the table with their food. Miranda Lawson had just emerged from her office, seemingly heading towards the constantly brewing coffee machine, and her presence had immediately slowed and then halted the conversation in the room. Unlike when Shepard and I had walked through where the group had given no indication that they noticed our presence, there were quiet murmurs of 'Operative Lawson' followed by quick chin nods in her direction. Miranda ignored them, something I'm sure they were used to, as they swiftly turned their attention back to their food. She gave not even a glance in their direction as she refilled her coffee cup and strode back to the office, her hips swaying with each step. All eyes followed her retreat, the eyes of the soldiers filled wariness. It was obvious that they didn't like her, but they respected her enough to be cautious. Miranda held their loyalty, at least for now, and my mind took this information and ran with it, grasping at what this meant for me and Shepard: the crew would follow Miranda, who was the biggest threat to Shepard's safety if Cerberus turned on us.

Thinking further, I realized that our current mission couldn't end in anything less than mutiny; Shepard may have chosen Cerberus for now, but she would never stay with them, despite her current misgivings of the Alliance, and she wouldn't think twice about taking the ship with her, too. But to do that, we were going to need at least some of the crew, and right now that didn't seem likely. Shepard was a force in her own right, and could probably gain the loyalty of most of the crew, but I had no idea how strong their attachment to Cerberus and the Illusive Man was. We needed to be smart about this, plan ahead. If it came to Cerberus or Shepard, would the crew choose be blacklisted by Cerberus just because they liked Shepard?

It would be a long shot unless...unless the Cerberus XO left with Shepard, too. Then I think some of them would stay on the Normandy, I thought as I remembered Miranda's concern for Shepard back on Omega.

I felt like I had just discovered something profound, even though it was something so simple. I guess I shouldn't have been congratulating myself just yet: getting those two to be friendly enough for Miranda to cross the Illusive Man just might be impossible. I found myself watching Shepard as her eyes tracked Miranda across the room in something close to open hostility. Shepard wouldn't take well to trusting such a high ranking Cerberus operative, and Miranda just didn't seem very open, from what I could tell. At least I had time to try and work my plan, secretly, of course. Who knows how Miranda would act if she knew what I was thinking. If Shepard knew, on the other hand, she would either be stubborn enough to not cooperate at all, or she would be way too obvious and Miranda would figure it out. No, I was on my own with this one. My very own matchmaking mission—well, sort of.

A derisive snort from Shepard brought me out of my thoughts, and I caught her rolling her eyes at Miranda's back. I gave her my best unamused look, but she just smiled and shook her head as she led us into the elevator and hit the button for Deck One. There was the humming of motors as the elevator lifted us up; in no time we were walking into the captain's cabin. It really was a stunning set up for a ship's captain, with two different levels to the room, a delectable looking couch, an office nook, and a massive aquarium that swallowed the entire left side of the room, though I wondered who the genius was who thought Shepard would actually keep an animal alive. I smirked at the glass case with a single ship model in it, and I saw boxes for several others on Shepard's desk; the woman always was an oddball. To the left of the bed was an armory station, and I nodded in approval at the separate accommodations outside of the communal armory. Shepard had never let anyone else maintain her gear; I was glad that hadn't changed.

"Wow, Cerberus really wanted to give you a reason to stick around, eh?" I asked as Shepard moved to lean against the side of her desk.

"Yeah, I bet they were thinking they could buy me off, just in case the four billion credit body didn't pan out," Shepard snorted.

"You've got to give them credit for trying, Shepard. They replicated your old ship, furnished you with a kick ass personal cabin, and keep throwing old friends at you. I wouldn't blame you for getting comfortable," I shrugged.

"Like anyone could be comfortable with Lawson breathing down their neck," Shepard scowled. "Besides, this isn't really my ship. It doesn't run like Alliance does. I'm the commanding officer, technically, but what does that mean to these people? They could easily ignore my orders, or they would take Lawson's over mine."

I paused a moment to think. It was true the Cerberus crew would probably answer to Lawson over Shepard, if it came to that. My earlier observations were evidence of that. However, I saw no reason why Shepard wouldn't have control over day to day operations, if only she were actually trying.

"So what? Start running the ship like you would your Alliance Normandy. They aren't responding to you because you aren't making them; you let yourself be pushed aside instead of acting like the commanding officer," I explained, moving forward into the cabin and stopping in front of the armor locker. I admired the gloss on Shepard's recently cleaned, simply black armor. It was nothing like the colorfully patterned suits she used to wear.

"You think it's that easy? I start pretending that this is any other ship I've served on?" Shepard said disdainfully.

"It can't hurt. Like it or not, this is your ship now, Shepard. If you don't step up, they really will go to Lawson for all their orders," I reasoned. I saw her thinking through my words, and her back subtly straightened.

"You're right. Hell, maybe I can paint the ship Alliance blue just to piss off the Illusive Asshole. I'll claim it under 'personalization of the workspace'," Shepard laughed, though I had the feeling that humor had been in short supply for her over the past few days. "But that still leaves Lawson as a problem," Shepard continued. "You're probably right that the crew would listen to me for most things, but if the Illusive Prick makes an order I don't like, they're going to listen to Lawson's order over mine. She's annoyingly loyal to Cerberus, and a right pain in the ass because of it."

I've seen the way she looks at you, Shepard, I thought. Those blue eyes track your every move; Miranda could be loyal to more than just Cerberus.

I shrugged. "Give it time, Commander. Things can change," I said, allowing myself a one-sided conspiratorial smile, "and if they don't, you won't have to worry about conflicting orders with Miranda for a while yet. She seemed to follow you just fine back on Omega."

Shepard sighed. "Yeah I know. She's actually not a bad person, I think. But she's Cerberus…" her voice trailed off, and she frowned.

"Maybe the two don't have to mutually exclusive," I said carefully, trying to build on Shepard's small admission.

"Never thought I'd hear you defend Cerberus, Garrus," Shepard protested, backing away and crossing her arms across her chest.

I took another step towards her, closing the distance she had put between us. "Shepard, look, you're a good friend; hell, you might even be my only friend, or I would've walked away from this insanity a long time ago. But the reality is that I'm your friend, and because of that, I'm going to do right by you, even if it makes you angry. If nothing else, don't question my intentions; I'm always betting on you."

"Alright, alright, enough with the heart to heart, sheesh. We still need to see Engineering and the CIC," Shepard said waving me forward. I knew a brush off when it was given to me, but tried not to let myself be offended. I knew how Shepard was; her actions didn't usually match how she was actually feeling. I could feel the tension that rolled off of the human that walked next to me, the kind I recognized as meaning Shepard was now flipping through all the ways she could escape to be by herself, all while physically resisting the urge to flat out run away from the conversation. I gave her a little more space while we walked, but felt rather pleased that she hadn't tried to excuse herself yet. During past conversations, she had sometimes just walked away without giving any explanation at all; I was flattered at her obvious attempt to maintain my company.

We walked around Engineering in less than five minutes, and Shepard pointed out the cargo hold through the window but didn't offer to extend the tour that direction. I found I liked the lower deck; the hum reminded me of when I was on the original Normandy and there were fewer crew members here. Plus the two that were, Donnelly and Daniels, were actually pretty entertaining; they even made Shepard smile.

Next, I found myself on deck two with the CIC. Shepard led us immediately forward to see Joker, and I saw her nod at one of the crew members as she walked by, the first time I had seen that courtesy extended by Shepard on the new ship. I wondered if she was taking my earlier conversation to heart, but she made no other attempts at friendliness when we passed other stations. I put the thought to the side as we joined Joker, and had a brief exchange of smiles and jokes about the old times. To be honest, I didn't know the lieutenant very well; we had always been a deck apart before, but it felt good to have another part of the old crew with us. We laughed about being on a Cerberus ship after all we'd been through, and it was Shepard who made the first move to break out of the conversation and lead me away.

It was when we were walking back to the elevator that I saw Shepard nod at the same man as before. I waited until we rounded the side of the galaxy map towards the elevator before stopping Shepard with an arm out in front of me.

"So, who is that?" I asked.

Shepard made an exasperated face. "There's multiple people on this deck, Garrus. You're going to have to be a little more specific."

"You know exactly who I mean: the only person besides Joker that you've acknowledged on this whole floor," I responded.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Why would I know anyone in Cerberus?" Shepard replied with a question instead of an answer.

"Oh, don't give me that crap, Shepard," I said, towering over her short frame, even as she managed to look intimidating anyway. "Let's not pretend like you haven't memorized every name and face on this ship, as well as a basic service record. I know you started that the first day on board; it's what I would've done. So, who is he?"

Shepard sighed and gave me a scowl. "His name is Redmond Wills, honorable discharge from the Alliance."

I resisted the urge to give her a light punch for her stubbornness. "And…?" I said while waving a talon forward in the air to get her to go on.

"And...I met him on one of the many stations that I lived on growing up. He was a First Lieutenant and a good man from what I could tell. He was given a discharge when his daughter got sick; her father is all she had. If he's here, I can only assume she died, though I don't know what brought him to Cerberus," Shepard said finally.

"So go talk to him," I suggested. "Think of it as your first step to marking your place as the commanding officer."

"Look, Garrus, I appreciate what you're trying to do, okay? I will go talk to him, but not today. I've already had too much; I want to head back to the easy part when I run in and shoot everything," Shepard said with a sad twist of her mouth.

"Alright, Shepard, then you go get ready to go out and shoot things," I replied, giving her a playful bump on her shoulder. "Let's show the galaxy that Commander fucking Shepard is back."

"Might not have been much of a comeback without you, Garrus," she said softly. The raw honesty in her eyes floored me.

"Then go give 'em hell for the both of us," I said back, gripping her forearm, before giving her a 'light' shove towards the elevator and smiling.

Shepard beat a quick exit to don her armor, and I went to chat with Joker some more at the helm. I didn't worry about getting ready myself; I was still woozy on painkillers and apparently the salarian doctor she was trying to recruit was camped in the middle of a plague zone, a plague that was very much transferrable to weakened turians. So I had gracefully bowed out of this one.

When Shepard reappeared on the command deck, I was pleased to see her armor once again carried the distinctive red N7 stripe down the side, and she had given the silver N7 an extra polish. I think she might even have been smiling behind her helmet.