Normandy, Deck 1, 2300 Hours

"Shepard, you called. Need me for…"

Garrus paused his sentence as he walked through the door into the stateroom, the datapad he was holding in his left hand going limp at his side as he sniffed the air, angling his head upwards and up and sniffing again, taking a few tentative steps forwards, continuing to smell the air. When he came to the stairs he looked down, being greeted by Elizabeth sitting on the port side of the couch, a single black leather shoe in her hand and another on the table, an open tin of some black substance on the table as well, along with a small cup of water. In her hand, she had what looked like an old shirt, with smudges of presumably the same black substance in little dots all over it.

As Garrus sauntered down the stairs, his mandibles opening slightly in mild confusion, Elizabeth took the T-shirt away from the shoe she was holding, against which it appeared she was rubbing a wet part of the T-shirt vigorously, looking up and smiling, slightly tiredly, at Garrus. Garrus spoke, standing over the table.

"What is that smell, Shepard? Is it that stuff?"

He pointed at the black substance.

Elizabeth laughed, setting the shoe down next to its match, though the one on the table appeared to be noticeably more reflective in parts, the rag falling between the pair and the cup of water. As she spoke, she massaged her right hand with her left, squeezing the fleshy bits in-between the first finger and the thumb and seeming to close her eyes in relief. Her voice sounded tired, an undertone of stress hiding behind the ever-present sarcasm which only an ear trained in subvocals could pick-up.

"Well, I was going to try and fool you, saying it's a human mating paint or something, but truth be told it's shoe polish."

"Shoe polish?"

Elizabeth laughed gently, nodding slowly and angling her head slightly to the right in a seeming consideration of the unlikely answer.

"Yep. Shoe polish."

Garrus took a seat on the remaining leg of the couch, crossing his legs in his distinctly Turian way as he settled in, watching as Shepard picked her shoe back up, dipping the rag first in the water and then collecting a glob of what was apparently polish before applying it vigorously to the inboard panel, the scuffed leather quickly filling up with the material and taking on a matte appearance. Garrus spoke as he watched, his eyes fixed on Shepard's furtive, repeated action as she took the rag in tiny circles up and down and across and back the panel of leather.

"Last I checked, humans used epoxycene for their dress shoes, had a few guys in C-Sec who loved to complain about how hard the stuff was, always just told them it meant they could kick each other's asses harder. From what they said, though, the stuff never scuffed. No polish."

Shepard nodded again, dipping the rag once more in the water before continuing her tiny circles around the panel of leather, the material now becoming noticeably more reflective, though the swirls her rag caused could still be seen.

"Most of the military does, yeah. But I'm a generational military family. Hell, I think there's been a Shepard in the military for the last 200 years straight. It's a bit of a family tradition, polishing your shoes before a big event."

"I'm guessing this 'big event' is the diplomat meeting we're heading too?"

Elizabeth nodded, sticking her tongue out slightly from her mouth. She dipped her rag again as Garrus watched, the swirls slowly going away on the leather as she did so, both hers and Garrus' attention fixed wholly on the shoe that was in her hand. Her voice was focused when she spoke again, slightly distant as she concentrated on the polishing at hand, staring with an intensity that would polish the shoe instantly, if possible.

"You know, the leaders of two council races and the one that won the Rachni wars. No big deal."

Another dip, more small circles. Garrus found himself leaning forwards as he watched, seeming to be drawn in by Elizabeth's uncompromising focus. She continued, her voice rising and falling as she told a story, Garrus enraptured as she did so.

"I remember my mom doing this every night before anything large, a hearing or something. She'd sit down – her stateroom was about the size of this one, she had a smaller couch, though – with one shoe, and my dad would grab the other one… well, when he was around. But they'd sit down with a can of shoe polish, a glass of water, and two rags. They'd sit there for hours, I used to think it was so boring, got into all kinds of trouble. But they'd talk about what was happening, prepare for what was going to come. It was almost like a ritual between the two of them."

Another dip, more small circles.

"When Dad died, I took over for him, and then we would talk about some of the other kids on the station, on the ship when I was with her, school and all that stuff. I still thought it was boring, but at least I was talking to her, that became more and more of a luxury as she rose in rank."

Another dip, more small circles.

"When I finally joined up, I used the epoxycene shoes until I graduated OCS. Then, the first thing I got from my mom after commissioning was a pair of leather shoes and a can of polish. I put it off for months, it wasn't until I went to my first command that I actually pulled them out, I guess the tradition just kind of… set in."

Another dip, more small circles. Garrus shifted slightly in his seat, now sitting fully forwards and staring as Elizabeth continued polishing. She chuckled, slightly as she continued.

"God, I must have spent four hours polishing before I reported to N-school. I only wore them for a few hours, just reporting in before we changed into our hard-suits, but it didn't matter. It helps me to calm down, get myself ready, I guess. Like cleaning a rifle, sort of. Only difference is, this weapon is intended for the conference room, not the battlefield."

Another dip, more small circles. Garrus looked at Shepard as she finished, laughing slightly at her last comment before speaking.

"You think you're going to convince Wrex to give us support with… hand-shined shoes?"

Shepard laughed at the joke, swatting at him with the towel in her hand, Garrus leaning back too slowly and the towel making a wet impact sound against his left shoulder-plate.

"No, he'd probably say they're 'soft as a baby pyjak' or some Wrex-ism like that. No, this is for nobody but myself."

Elizabeth turned the shoe underneath the lights in the cabin, scrutinizing the panel she had finished before nodding to herself, setting the shoe delicately down on the table before standing up, putting her hands on her lower back as she stretched, Garrus standing up with her. He spoke to her as she draped the old shirt, now thoroughly soaked, over one of the arms of the couch, tossing the remaining water down the incinerator chute.

"Well, if you want, I'll help you next time. Maybe we can reflect the Reapers to death."

Shepard laughed as she picked the shoes up, placing them delicately in the shoe-drawer in the wall. Garrus continued.

"Anyways, Shepard, you called me up here for something. Care to tell me what it is?"

Elizabeth turned and smiled at Garrus as she reached up, un-doing the shoulder pad restraint which fell across the top of her chest, exhaling in relief as the article of clothing relinquished her.

"You're already doing it. Just keep it up."

Garrus cocked his head, his mandibles flaring in confusion, his brow plates coming together atop his face. His voice was incredulous as he watched Elizabeth walking to the bed, sitting down and pulling her boots off, massaging the bottom of her feet and side of her shins.

"You wanted me here to… watch you polish your shoes?"

"I was polishing, so it works."

"You've lost me, Liz."

Elizabeth laughed before standing up, padding over towards Garrus in sock-clad feet, stopping a meter in front of him and placing her hands on her hips, throwing them to the left.

"Well, I let it slide last night. But it's sure as hell not going to continue on this ship, not so long as I have any say in it. And certainly not while that damned battery continues to be as isolated as it is."

Garrus mandibles' flared further in confusion as he moved his head forwards slightly, tilting it further to a twenty degree angle to his left as he looked at Elizabeth, a small smirk sneaking onto her previously reprimanding face.

"You've really…"

Elizabeth broke out laughing, grabbing the front of Garrus' cowl to pull him down, standing on her tip-toes to plant a small kiss on the un-damaged side of his face, continuing to laugh as she stepped away, walking up to the desk as she spoke, standing in front of the Terminal, staring intently at it.

"You're cute when you're confused, you know that?"

Garrus' face changed to a mix of exasperation and confusion at her comment, his voice slightly resenting as he followed her up the small staircase, standing at the boundary of the desk as he spoke.

"Don't hold it against me if I try and deny you that… particular satisfaction as often as possible. You mind telling me what the hell you mean?"

The terminal shut down at Elizabeth's last input before she turned to face Garrrus, a soft smile emanating not only from her mouth but her eyes as well, her face an image of sympathetic caring and love.

"You're spending the night here, Garrus. I'll be damned if you keep on sleeping in the Forwards Battery so long as I have this over-sized stateroom."

Garrus stopped, his face freezing as he looked at the still-smiling Elizabeth, his feet staying planted firmly as his gaze followed her into the bathroom, shaking his head slightly as he regained composure and walked up to lean casually – or, at least, an attempted casual – against the door. Elizabeth was running some kind of buzzing electronic ship (he was fairly certain humans called it a "toothbrush") over her teeth, an off-white foam forming in her mouth and dripping into the metal sink.

"You sure you want me up here, Liz? I've got things I can take care of downstairs over-night, and if something goes wrong with a firing algorithm I should be there. Besides, The Primarch might try to reach me and that's the last place I told him I would be, and I've got my terminal set up down there…"

Elizabeth spit into the sink, filling a very-small cup next to the sink fixture with water before rinsing her mouth. She stepped forwards, standing in front of Garrus and taking his hands within hers, her voice low and earnest, almost shameful of the emotion it carried but more so for admitting the existence of such sentiment than embarrassment at its content and intent. She looked down at the space between them, eyes flitting between their hands.

"Garrus, we both said we wanted to be… with, each other for this war. And I meant it. If you want to sleep down in the battery, I suppose I won't stop you. But, tonight… every other night… it would mean a lot… the world, to me if you were to stay up here."

She looked up at Garrus, smiling small at him, her face showing an Elizabeth Shepard which Garrus knew few were every privileged to see, the Elizabeth who was less than an ideal and a poster-figure, who was not the most prominent Commander in the Alliance Navy but just a remarkable, incredible woman.

"I want you with me, even at night. At my six."

Garrus's mandibles opened in a soft Turian smile as he took a step towards Elizabeth, his voice low and earnest, the subharmonics screaming of love and affection and contentment which he doubted she registered on anything besides a subconscious level, though that was enough for him. For them.

"Liz, I said I don't want to be anywhere but on your six, and I meant it. Even here. Just give me a minute to grab my stuff."

Elizabeth smiled as Garrus spoke, taking a step back and relinquishing his hands, the Turian stepping backwards and turning to walk towards the hatch, Shepard speaking right as he reached the door, her voice suddenly confident again, dripping with flirtation and innuendo.

"Besides, Vakarian, it makes… catching up, a lot easier."

Garrus turned on the ball of his foot at the door, grinning shamelessly at Elizabeth as he spoke, his voice low and as alluring as Shepard had ever heard it.

"You wouldn't happen to need to blow off any… steam, would you Shepard?"

Elizabeth laughed, giggled really (though she would never admit it – Alliance Commanders do not, I repeat do not giggle) as she waved him through the door, being greeted with a responding call of Garrus' laughter through the closing doorway as she smiled, turning back towards the bathroom to continue getting ready for the night.

Normandy, Forwards Battery, 1200

Garrus could hear the anger in Shepard's footsteps almost before the door opened, her feet not needing combat boots nor ablative armor to attempt to beat the deck into submission as she walked, the sounds echoing through the hallway as the plating protested and warned all those in front of her. The door closed with the same speed, though he could have sworn it sounded more aggressive in response to Shepard – who knows, EDI's more intuitive than people give her credit – as she walked inside the battery. Garrus turned around, grinning at Shepard as she grimaced a smile back at him, turning to the right as she marched over to his weapons bench. He flinched as Shepard swept a few of his carefully laid out tools – admittedly, 'laid out' is a bit of a loose definition – to claim a seat atop the bench.

"So… meeting went well then?"

Shepard's voice was frustrated, angry, intense; spoken through clenched teeth and tight jaw.

"We're on our way to Sur'Kesh, if that's what you mean."

Garrus laughed, de-activating his gunnery terminal before walking around it to the edge which faced Shepard, leaning back against it.

"Well, not really. Your shoes look very shiny, for the record."

If voices could carry acid, seething pots of boiling acid, Shepard's would almost certainly be filled with the stuff.

"Thanks. I was really worried about it. Goddammit, I just…"

Elizabeth stopped herself, remembering lessons on "not complaining to subordinates" just as she started the sentence, causing Garrus' head to tilt slightly to the right, an eyebrow-plate lifting and his mandibles coming tightly to his mouth. His voice was inquisitive, though a very practiced neutral.

"You just what, Liz."

Garrus watched as the tension in Shepard seemed to boil hotter than it had since her entrance, her face contorting into an angry expression of vehement frustration and intense exacerbation, her green eyes shooting daggers at him for asking the question as she took a giant breath in through her nose and rolled her lips inwards in a seething expression. As she exhaled, however, the fiery frustration and anger seemed to leave with the air as her shoulders bowed and her head dropped down to her chest, her hands raising in mild helplessness before slapping the sides of her dress-uniform. When she looked up at Garrus again, the shadow under her eyes seemed deeper, darker, the passionate and angered frustration morphing into its exhausted sibling, her eyes seeming to sink into their sockets, retreating under the fatigue which seemed to plague the rest of her features. Her voice was, while not beaten, certainly lacking the fire and brimstone which had been in it before, boiling acid replaced by the slow molasses of exhaustion.

"I just don't know what the hell is wrong with these people that they can't see beyond their own goddamned noses. Actually, the ones with noses aren't even the problems."

"Salarians?"

"Yeah. Victus is cooperative enough, he's a soldier still, even showed up in his dress-blues. And Wrex… he knows the need, he's just using it to make head-way for his people. I should be angry at him for demanding the cure instead of just handing us soldiers, but I suppose there won't be a lot of soldiers to hand us unless we get the cure."

"That is a generation down the road, you know."

"This war could go that long. We need soldiers not just for now, but for the possibility of a generational conflict."

"That's a grueling thought."

"Tell me about it. No, the Salarian Dalatrass was the one who decided to stir up trouble. Honestly, you'd think thousand-year-old racism would take a back seat to the gigantic sentient death-bots which are knocking at everybody's door."

Garrus laughed slightly as Shepard's description, pushing himself off of his terminal to walk over to the bench Shepard was sitting on, leaning on it next to her, matching her gaze at the omnipresent dance of blue and red circles on his tactical terminal across the room.

"You'd think, wouldn't you? But some of these hatreds are taught from birth, even Turians get it. There are children's stories which revolve around evil Krogan kidnapping and beating lost children, some variations even say they eat them, Wrex got a kick out of them when I told him about them. We're told they're monsters from the first time we hear about them, a lot of people have a hard time forgetting those stories to see the truth."

Elizabeth shook her head, pursing her lips as she did so, rolling her eyes and sighing deeply afterwards.

"What the hell is so hard about forgetting them? I mean, she has proof they're not true in front of her! If she'd just pull her head out of her…"

Garrus interrupted her, causing Shepard's face to erupt with mild frustration and turn to her right to look at Garrus, a perfect rendition of her "I hate it when somebody interrupts me" face which so many other officers and soldiers had learned the lethality of, but which Garrus weathered with cool continuation.

"If she'd just realize the truth, it'd be easy, yes. But humans have the benefit of being the young ones in the galaxy, you haven't had enough time to develop a deep-seated hate for a race."

"One might be starting now."

"You know what I mean, Liz. I'm sorry it's frustrating, I know how hard it is to fight against bias and centuries old racism. It's inane and unproductive, trust me, I get that. But at least we're heading to Sur'Kesh, right?"

Shepard smiled slightly at the comment, pursing her lips again and nodding, closing her eyes gently. Her voice was softer, in both timbre and volume, conciliatory to a point she had been clinging too since the end of the meeting.

"Yes, yes we are."

Garrus smiled, putting his left arm around Shepard and pulling her quickly into a short one-armed hug before his tactical terminal turned a wholly un-settling shade of red, Garrus relinquishing Shepard quickly and striding with purpose over towards the terminal. While he did so, Shepard lifter herself off and jumped down from her seat on the weapons bench, striding with much easier steps than early over towards Garrus, her dress-shoes eliciting stocato reports from the deck plating and the Senior-Officer chain on her uniform jingling with every step.

"Everything okay, Gar?"

Garrus was tapping frantically away at the haptic interface, multiple lists dominating the screen and scrolling with un-readable speed across the screen, Garrus glancing at them occasionally, spastically before turning back towards the keyboard, a search bar clear in the upper-left hand portion of the screen.

"Garrus, what are you looking for? What is it?"

Garrus continued to ignore Shepard, tapping as quickly as he could on the terminal, the search paramaters changing with every new entry, the screen repeatedly showing three fatal words in bold letters infront of the constantly moving lists: "NO ENTRY FOUND". Elizabeth continued to watch before she looked at the top of the lists, seeing the titles: "Palaven Casualty List, Missing, 4 of 52"; "Palaven Casualty List, Injured, 5 of 20"; "Palavae Casualty List, Confirmed killed, 37 of 856".

Elizabeth walked up behind Garrus as his hands slowed down, finally dropping from the interface as "NO ENTRY FOUND" showed again on the screen, Garrus closing his eyes and bowing his head as Elizabeth stepped next to him, taking his left hand in her right. Though he didn't look up, Garrus' hand quickly latched onto hers, gripping it tightly, almost desperately as she heard a low whine begin in his subharmonics, felt it resonate throughout her chest with incredible sadness and worry and concern, no other sign of his grief but that enough. Slowly, Garrus began to talk, carefully navigating his own emotions as he felt his world draw into a sharp focus with the incisive emotion.

"I asked the Primarch to forward me all the casualty lists from Palaven, I still haven't heard from… about… I guess it'd be a bit much to hope that the world goes to hell and my dad and sister stay alright, wouldn't it? This war's too damned big to be that fair."

Elizabeth squeezed Garrus' hand, gently, reminding him of her grip, a gesture he quickly returned. She could still feel his soft pining in her chest, could see the closed eyes and the tight mandibles, no tears falling from his alien eyes though the grief needed no such expression, the tension in his body, the defeated angle of his head well enough to explain it. She moved towards him, rubbing her right arm against his left, resting her head gently against his shoulder, setting it down softly on the edge of his shoulder plate. He angled his head, the side of his just barely touching the top of hers, the contact well-known and its reassurance much needed, however small it may be. When Elizabeth spoke, it was softly, caringly, earnestly.

"You'll hear something, Garrus. Eventually. I can't say it'll be good news, you and I both know that's a promise I can't keep. But we're going to Sur'Kesh, we've got Wrex and The Primarch talking, we're doing everything we can."

When Garrus spoke, his response was dry, devoid of his characteristic hope, full instead of doubtful hope and powerful doubt, questions unasked hovering in the timbre and fears unspoken staying at his lips, though Elizabeth heard all of it.

"What if… what if our best isn't enough, Liz? We're doing everything we can, but this is beyond anything we've ever seen. This isn't a rogue spectre, isn't missing colonies, this is a galactic war which killed the greatest empire we have any record of. Dammit, how the hell do we fight that? How can we? What if… our best just isn't enough?"

Elizabeth squeezed Garrus' hand again, turning him to face her as she grabbed his other hand, holding them both in a posture which had come to mean intimacy and familiarity and comfort for the both of them, Garrus bringing his forehead down to meet hers in the classic Turian expression of love and affection, Shepard speaking quietly, passionately, with a soft intensity which flowed directly into Garrus' empty voice.

"If our best isn't enough then we keep giving it until it is. We're facing a long shot, yes. And all of us have our doubts, Garrus. But all those people, your family, are what we're fighting for. Now more than ever before. So even if our best isn't enough, we give it anyways, and we give it until it is or we die trying."

Garrus smiled slightly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Elizabeth's hand as he spoke, softly, a slight bit of trademark sarcasm and wit returning to his voice.

"I guess we just do as we've always done, and just run head-long into the problem until we solve it, huh?"

"I've been told that's what we're good at."

"The best."

Author's Note

So, second chapter of Elizabeth, and I'm already loving writing her. Sorry if the story isn't moving along terribly quickly, I'm trying to write this story along with my Elizabeth Shepard play-through. I know there's a lot of fluff in here, not a whole lot of story or plot covered, but honestly the game does a good job of covering the majority of the plot, so I just like to fill in some of the more… intimate, behind-the-scenes scenes.

I know Garrus' family isn't mentioned until much later in the game, but when it is it sounds like it's a repeating issue, so I figured now would be as good a time to introduce it as ever. I'm still trying to pin down non-bantering Garrus, so hopefully the more emotional parts with him have been coming out alright. I usually fell pretty good about them by the finish, but any feedback in that regard would be very much appreciated.

Oh, and in case anybody is wondering, epoxycene is not a real material. Completely pulled that one out of my ass.

Comments and feedback is, as always, extremely appreciated; I want as much feedback as you guys can give me, it really helps me write (even if it's just a "hey, I liked it", that still helps in keeping me motivated and feeling good). So, if you have anything to say, please say it.

Those who aren't already doing so should come join the little tumblr party we're having over at my blog: , I post all my stories there along with fics of my varioius Shepard's and other fantastic ME stuff I find on that godforsaken (but much loved) website.

Regardless, enjoy!

SotS