Finally! I can honestly say I never want to go this long in between chapters. I missed you all ;_;

Shepard sighed, sitting quietly by herself on one of the tables in the cafeteria. To say she was exhausted from today's training would be a vast understatement. Every muscle in her body was sore; muscles that had once been on the verge of complete atrophy were being put through their paces once again. Physical therapy had given her only the most basic skills back, but this, well, this was a whole new level. Still, it was...satisfying.

"Eating alone?"

Shepard watched the green-eyed turian slide into the seat across from her, his face smiling. "Looks like it," she shrugged. The cafeteria was nearly empty, the group she had been training with had been dismissed by Clovis earlier, so by the time she made it into the cafeteria they were long gone, as was her chance to get to know them.

"Mind some company then?"

"Well, I'd hate to make you get up."

Ferox chuckled, "How was your first day? Any more trips to the medbay?"

"None," she said with some humor, "surprisingly."

The ridges above his eyes shifted, "Clovis gets a little carried away sometimes. If he's going too hard on you, I could tell him to ease up."

"I'd complain if he wasn't," she told him, taking another bite of her meal.

"Good."

"You know, I just realized I never asked you about...well, you."

Ferox grinned, "I thought you prefered an air of mystery between us."

"Well I'll admit, we didn't exactly start off on the right foot," she curled her fingers over her other hand, remembering how wary she had been of him that night. "You never mentioned being General Corinthus' son."

There was only a tiny spark of suprise in his eyes. "Did Garrus tell you that?"

"No. But does that really matter?"

"I guess it doesn't." He was silent for a moment, and Shepard felt that she was stepping on fragile ground. "I do what I can to escape my father's name."

Shepard frowned, "Are you not on good terms?"

"We are," he exhaled, a dull rumble. "It's because of my father that I was even allowed to stay with my squad when my biotics surfaced. He made such a commotion when they considered transferring me." He shook his head, as if embarrassed to admit the fact. "They had no choice but to put up with me."

She smiled, "I'm glad he stood up for you."

"I am too. Back then I wasn't. My team hated me for what I was, and they knew the only reason I was still with them was because of my father. I hated that distinction more than anything." For a moment, Shepard swore she heard a trace of bitterness in his voice. "I had to work twice as hard for them to even give me an official title." He snorted, "They never thought I'd get very far."

"Guess you proved them wrong," Shepard remarked.

"It's a kind thought," he replied gravely, "but I didn't do it alone. I owe a lot to him and that's not how I wanted it to be. To this day I find myself wondering if I was ever really good enough to do it on my own or if I became too dependent on my father's name."

"Are you really asking that?" She gave him an exasperated look. "Your father wanted to give you a chance because he knew you were good enough to get this far. You're a damn good biotic, Ferox, no one gave you that."

"Garrus always mentioned your pep talks. I just never imagined I'd get one in person," he laughed, but relented. "You're right." he said somberly. "But however far I've come, I've never been a very good son. That's what happens when you try to escape your father's name; you forget that it belongs to the man who brought you up in the first place."

"Do you speak to him often?"

"I went years without speaking to him before the war. We started communicating just before the Reapers hit, we have been ever since."

"He's a good man, your father," she gave a moment of pause. "And so are you."

His mandibles flared in a grin, "Well that's a relief. There may be hope for me yet."

"Sure," Shepard chuckled.

"I better get back," he said, nearly hesitant. "We'll be in Palaven soon."

"Palaven?"

"You haven't heard? We're dropping off our esteemed guest. Quintus isn't going to risk his daughter aboard a warship," he shrugged. "Anyway, I'll see you around."

Shepard finished the last of her meal and went down to her room, planning on showering and taking a few moments to relax after an exhausting training session.

She isn't expecting Varia. But somehow it seems predestined. Shepard stands quietly on the doorway as Varia stands beside the desk on the corner, looking at a photograph Shepard just happened to stuff into the nearest drawer. Shepard should be indignant, furious that she's been looking through her things while she was out of her room. She isn't.

"You all look so happy," she remarked, glancing at Shepard over her shoulder. She was still that stunning woman from the party, carrying herself with that subtle but undeniable grace. Even if she didn't seem the least bit remorseful for having been in Shepard's quarters for however long, Shepard had to give her points for boldness.

"We were." Shepard confirms.

"Even with the war going on?"

"It's times like those that teach you to enjoy the few moments you have with the people closest to you."

She set the photograph down. "What are your feelings towards Garrus?"

Shepard was visibly taken by surprise, but she moved past it, opting to take a seat at the foot of her bed. Varia turned away from the desk, facing her, and expecting an answer. "I'm not...he's not mine anymore," Shepard said with finality, "you have nothing to worry about."

Varia considered her words, her beautiful, painted face only showing the slightest vulnerability. "I will never be you," she muttered grimly, "I don't know what you did to make him love you that way," she gave a small bitter laugh, "perhaps I will think to ask you one day."

Shepard was silent, and she knew why she hadn't been bothered by her intrusion; Varia felt threatened by her. And in a way, Shepard felt sorry for that.

"I'm not you," she repeated, "but I was the one that picked up the pieces. I kept him from falling apart."

Shepard looked up at her. "I know."

"Goodbye Shepard," she turned to go, but turned to look at her one last time. "I only wish we weren't hindered by these circumstances, perhaps my gratitude wouldn't ring hollow...but thank you, for all that you did."

After she was gone Shepard took the picture from the desk and looked it over. It was her crew, Joker, EDI, Kaidan, James, Tali, Javik...everyone. She couldn't even remember whose idea it was to take a group photo, it was silly...but there they were, posing on the docks with their backs to the clear glass, in full view of the ships arching behind them.

Varia was right, they did look happy. It was as if there was no war going on and they were tourists stopping a C-sec officer so he could snap their photo. She felt a longing to be that woman in Garrus' arms again, to be that happy and surrounded by all those people she missed, but that wasn't an option now and she was going nowhere holding onto that memory. She set the photograph in the drawer, part of the million things she had in storage somewhere back on the Normandy.

She walked into the painfully small bathroom and turned on the shower faucet. A sigh escaped her lips at the exhaustion in her body and she stood under the spray for a long time before she dried herself off and curled up on the bed. She fell into an easy slumber, one so natural and welcoming that she wondered why she'd ever needed the medicine in the first place.

For a long time she had slept without dreaming; this time she saw the Crucible fire.