3. Real Estate
"It's not the fanciest place, but if you ever need a break during repairs, it's here."
Her look at the key card he's holding says she's surprised. "I didn't think you could afford real estate on a vigilante's income."
"Oh, I can. So long as it's hamster-sized."
"Don't give Boo ideas." She ignores the key card, and moves past him into the tiny living room that's clearly meant to pull its weight as both an entry hall and dining space. There's cognitive disconnect in watching Commander Shepard run her trigger finger across a narrow, dented and dusty dining bar. "Should I even ask how you ended up in possession of an apartment on Omega?"
"The partner of one of my team. He went to stay with his sister on the Citadel for a while."
"And he figured you'd be interested."
"Something like that."
"Archangel House Sitting Services, huh?"
It's a relief to hear her joke. In the few days since the party at Afterlife, she's buried herself in the minutiae of getting the Normandy operational again. They all have, but her focus has been intense enough to make them all look relaxed. He steps further into the room, and says, "The credits have to come from somewhere."
"Did you know that the first big thing I bought with my Spectre salary was an apartment? A week after the last debriefing, I was plunking down credits for a two bedroom, three bath flat near Flux." She crosses the short length of the room and peers into the darkness of the small adjoining bedroom. Her voice sounds to him extra toneless as she says, "I never moved in. The Alliance probably has it now, combing it for signs I was planning to desert them for Cerberus."
He sits at the end of the bar, watches her pace out the length of the room with slow, measured steps. She's never brought up the Alliance. Not after Horizon, not after Alchera. He masters the impulse to sit up straight, schools his body into a relaxed posture. "If you had been, the last place you'd leave proof would be your brand new apartment."
"You'd think. Still." She gestures, a fluid shake of arm and shoulder. "I'll have to turn myself in."
"You're not a criminal, but I know what you mean. The Reapers are still out there."
"That, yes, but first I need more intel." She's made it to the farthest end of the room, and shadows obscure her expression. All he can make out is the faint red glint that persists in her eyes even though her scars have healed. "Do you remember that lead for Liara Cerberus sent just before the jump?"
"The Shadow Broker base."
"Yes. I need to know the specifics of what was recovered off Alchera, of what the box they shipped my body in contained. They'll want that data. I want that data."
"A good precaution," he says, knowing only another turian would register the variation in his subvocal harmonics. "I'm with you, Shepard."
"You are. What I mean is, thank you. For being there, for the other night."
They haven't spoken about what happened after the party, and he's not convinced there's anything to add. He's not convinced there isn't, either. His mandibles flex against his will. He shifts on the bar stool, and holds up the key card. "And don't forget to thank me for finding you a luxury pad on Omega."
"Tell you what," she says as she sits on the stool next to his. "I'll come here to recharge once in a while, but you come with me. Deal?"