I apologize about he brevity of this chapter. I was dragged out of the house and I couldn't bring myself to write more...I know that it's a lame excuse.

The good news is that school is out and I am done with this year! This also means that I can write long chapters daily!

Please enjoy this one! It's kind of a filler but not really.

xoxo

THR

Chapter 22

Your name was Liz Shepard, and the former Earth councilor's office was starting to feel like a cross-species courtroom.

You were the defendant. Armed with two of the best lawyers in the business, you watched carefully while they stood by your side. Their arguments were fierce. Their retorts were relentless.

On the other side was the prosecution. Their sole mission was to see you rot in jail for the rest of your life. Some of them were more generous than others, but they all seemed to share a common goal.

You sighed and fidgeted in your seat. The faceoff between you and the Turian councilor had ended about ten minutes ago. Fantasizing about how this could be an excellent crime drama vid was the only thing that made this meeting interesting. It was an immature move for you and could potentially be the most stupid thing you had ever thought about at such a serious time. You had never cared for political or boardroom bullshit, though. Daydreaming was a coping mechanism.

At least that's what you thought.

Instead of discussing your status as a supposed public menace, the Asari councilor was going on about how hostility during a meeting was intolerable. It seemed to be a pointless argument; these summits always seemed to end in either confusion or aggression. The Council's intended purpose was not one of antagonism. In reality, it was anything but.

Councilor Irissa sat down after scolding everyone in the room. Her allotted period for droning on had ended and it was time to get back to the real purpose of the heated get-together.

"Now that we have an unexpected…guest here, I suppose we should at least give her a decent explanation as to why her fate was so unexpected."

Your head perked up and you looked at the two men next to you. Hackett and Bailey had permanently switched seats in an effort to defend you. You weren't sure of their real intentions. As much as you wanted to believe that they were there to help you, you knew that some people weren't always so kind. These men had been your friends and your colleagues. They had changed, but above all, you had changed more. If these changes were enough to sway their opinions about you, then you didn't know what to say to them to convince them otherwise.

You thought about it for yet another brief moment and then realized something.

Would these men really be here if they didn't care? You didn't answer this question and turned your focus to them.

Out of the two of them, Bailey was expressing the most emotion. His expression was one of unyielding anger. You could read it like a book: he didn't want to be defending you, but he knew it was the right thing. He was a man of courage and some honesty. Above all, he was also someone you could call your comrade. As opposed as he was to helping you, he knew better than to leave you alone. It was some sort of a mutual respect that you couldn't quite pinpoint.

You turned your glance to Admiral Hackett. For all the years that you had been under his command, the one thing that you could not decipher was his emotions. You had been able to see through every single one of the members of your squad. Hackett had never been under your command, though. He had been above you on each mission that you've commanded, and it was for a good reason.

He was unreadable. His stoic qualities were pristine and admirable as was his blue uniform. When you recalled your own identical uniform you wanted to sob.

His slate was clean.

It always had been.

Yours was cracked, covered in mud and smeared with blood.

"Shepard," Irissa said, her voice soothing. You heard the words drip off of her tongue like raindrops gently hitting a spider web. You couldn't let yourself be entranced by it.

You couldn't fall into the trap.

"Before I tell you what happened to cause your outlandish living arrangements, I—"

"Spit it out, you purple bitch." you spat.

You saw Councilor Quentius' fists tighten again, signaling that you were pushing your luck. You felt like you couldn't help yourself. If this was an excuse brought on by insanity, it would sure help with your case.

A firm hand placed itself on your shoulder, signaling that you needed to cut the attitude. It was coming from your right, which meant that it was Hackett.

"Keep talking." asked Bailey.

The Asari across from you took a deep breath and shrugged off the insult with grace.

"Our reasoning behind your imprisonment is rather complicated. You see, combined with your Batarian mission and your destruction of the Council a few years ago. These grudges are hardly professional, however—"

"The Batarian mission? What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

Your tone had turned nasty. If your past insult hadn't insulted Irissa, this interjection had.

With that, the Asari councilor lost her composure.

"If I hear another interruption from this defiled mess of a Commander, I'll have her removed from this meeting! That's enough!"

You thought about what she had just said regardless of what was going on around you. Her comment had sent the room into hysterics.

Unknown diplomats around you protested. The Turian councilor pounded his fists on the glass table and hurled insults at anyone who would listen. The Salarian councilor put her head in her hands. The Asari councilor left.

Your name was Liz Shepard, and you tried to keep the Batarian mission in your memory. You had killed so many in just a single day. It had been your last mission before the Reaper conflict.

You could even go as far to say that that mission was the last time you were able to fight stably.

Your name was Commander Shepard, and you had let the past two weeks melt away on the Normandy.

Until you were given any further intel on the assignment sent to you by Hackett, you were free to do as you pleased. He had tentatively given the assignment a title: Priority: Arrival. You hardly knew any additional information other than what you were initially given. You didn't mind this one bit. You needed a semi-permanent shore leave, especially when it was on your own planet.

You spent the days pondering your next mission's title and looking at the skylight above your bed. After spending so much time looking at blank space, a blue sky and flying cars was a change of pace that you welcomed with open arms.

As for Garrus, you never thought that being so close to someone could feel so good.

His touch was your weakness. His kisses, although not gentle, sent shivers down your spine.

Your connection was magnetic and knew no bounds. When you weren't relaxing on your bed you were showing him around New York.

He had barely seen a fragment of the city. Most of the time you lacked the drive or energy to explore the depths of the great megatropolis.

What you did show him had him laughing and smiling. Seeing him so genuinely happy made you beam.

You had even found a spot that served real Turian food, which he had stocked up on.

Currently, he was eating said food and sitting at your desk while you gazed outside. Along with his eyes, you found yourself getting lost in your window.

You could see the New Empire State Building and the brightness of vid advertisements soaring high into the sky. The sun was setting, and this time it didn't have the simulated colors of the Citadel. The blues ran into the purples and reds, and the way the lights from sky cars refracted off of the tall buildings made your eyes sparkle. As corrupt as the city was, it was okay if you could forget about that. Despite the pollution, crime and deception, this place was your home.

Earth was your home and it was good to be back.

"You love this city, don't you?" he asked from across the room. "I see it in your eyes every time you look out there or take me out."

You glanced at your boyfriend and watched as he consumed a traditional Turian dish, which looked something along the lines of sashimi to you. Whatever it was, it looked unappetizing to you.

You sauntered over to the desk and looked over his shoulder. Next to the plate of food was a datapad of information about Arrival.

"You're reading that?" you asked. You allowed your hands to massage his tired shoulders, which were bare. He had stopped wearing civilian clothes while on the private decks of the Normandy. You had gotten used to his scaly upper half and muscular arms. You could let your hands wander across them all day, along with his metallic carapace. It was a natural wonder for you. No matter how many times you saw it, you were still fascinated.

Every part of Garrus made you wonder. He still captured your imagination just as much as the city below you did. His skin was more vivid than the sunset in ways that nobody else would understand. Greens and browns clashed with the blue markings on his face. His expressions were more entertaining to watch than the vid ads.

He put the datapad on the other side of the desk and grunted contentedly as you worked your magic upon his shoulders.

"I was thinking that maybe accompanying you would be realistic. I mean, if you really were serious about the calibrations and all."

The flirty tone in his voice made your heart skip a beat. He had started to be more romantic with you.

The break was having a positive effect on him. Of course he was still disciplined, but he had even gone as far as to initiate sex and order an extra bottle of champagne when you were telling EDI what to have purchased back down on Earth.

These things might have been trivial in the mind of an average person. Although neither of you were average, it was nice to think that you could be.

You could have a normally functioning inter-species relationship, and it was absolutely beautiful.

"You'd better believe that I want you to come with me." you replied while running one of your free hands up the horns that protruded out of the back of his head. "There's no Shepard without Vakarian." He grunted again, but this time it was filled with even more pleasure.

"But you're also a commander who I know can handle herself. I just figured that I could throw in a bullet or two if you need it."

This comment elicited a chuckle out of you.

"Sweetie, you know I always need extra ammo."

As per usual, your romantic moment was put to a halt because of work.

"Commander, we have the Conference Room synced to Alliance channels. You may now speak to Admiral Hackett on vid comm. He has requested to meet you in person if possible."

Garrus and you groaned in unison and directed your attention up to the ceiling, which was where EDI's speaker was.

"I gotcha. Thanks, EDI."

"Oh, and Shepard?"

You raised your eyebrow at Garrus, who shrugged and went back to finishing his meal.

"Yeah?"

"The Admiral seems to be in a good mood. Asking him about Mr. Vakarian's attendance on the mission would be advisable at this time."

You laughed again, and this time it sounded a bit more jocund.

"You're the best, EDI."

"I am always executing tasks at optimal performance, Commander. Thank you."

Within the period of a minute, the environment had lost its sense of freedom. You were on duty again, although it did not involve shooting guns or sitting between two opposing delegates.

You were in no place to argue, though. You couldn't help when duty called.

"Good luck up there, Shepard." Garrus said between bites. "And don't forget to come down for dinner. I had EDI order up some dish called sashimi…she said that you'd like the restaurant."

You walked to the elevator and gave him a wink.

Your name was Commander Shepard, and for once you could say that you truly did not want to leave the Normandy.