Have the last few weeks been real?
Am I really an Alliance Admiral?
Did Garrus really ask me to marry him?
With that last question, Shepard opened her eyes to a dark room. Good thing too, since the hangover headache hit her like a rampaging Thresher Maw.
"Oooh, that's the last time I let Wrex and Grunt challenge me to a drinking contest" groaned Garrus, "that Ryncol hit me like a ton of… Shepard, what's the word?"
"That… would be bricks" groaned Shepard, fumbling for the controls to close the blinds in throughout the apartment to save her friends and family the same fate.
The lights of the Silversun Strip are exceedingly gaudy on a normal day, but even more so with a raging, alcohol-induced headache.
"I don't even want to know what this place looks like" said Shepard, stretching out her back and shoulders. "Alright Vakarian, let's get to it."
"You get the shower running" said Garrus, shooting the redhead a knowing wink "and I'll be right behind you."
"You'd better, mister" replied Shepard, as she left him with a soft kiss.
As Shepard walked toward the bathroom in just a t-shit and her panties, Garrus could only manage one response.
"Yes, ma'am!"