Happy N7 Day! I wanted to update something in celebration, so why not my little pet project? =D

Super-mega thanks to my DELIGHTFULLY WONDERFUL beta, Greenyoda987, and twinwriter16 for doing a final read over for me.

Shepard shuffled into her office, scrubbing sleep from her eyes with a fist. Even taking the long route to her office hadn't thrown off the lethargic weight of drowsiness. Her skull still pounded, and her brain felt like it was full of sand, but since she'd—albeit grudgingly—agreed to hire security, it had become even more necessary to keep up appearances and show her face at Venture daily. She filled a delicate porcelain cup with coffee from the waiting pot beside her window, inhaling the scent gratefully as she turned toward her desk. But then she froze, eyes falling on a box wrapped in white paper that had most certainly not been there when she'd left. Jules would have told her she had a package when she'd arrived, so clearly the girl didn't know. Shepard's mind kicked into high gear as she slowly approached the offending parcel. Someone had left it without giving away that they'd ever been there. Someone who knew she was the Illusive Man? She didn't dare ask her secretary about it—that would create more questions that didn't need to be answered—but caution told her not to open it.

But what was in it?

She ripped the paper off and stepped back, waiting. When nothing happened, she let out the breath she'd been holding and set her coffee down. The container itself was unassuming—standard digital lockbox, its access key sitting helpfully on top—but there was no indication of where it came from. Or who sent it. Shepard turned the key over between her fingers, eying it critically before slipping it into the scanner slot. With a hiss, the box opened, and when nothing jumped out, Shepard peered inside. Datapads, it looked like. Strange… who would send her datapads? She lifted the top one and it lit up, flickering through a frenzy of code before settling on a black screen with two words: "Hello, Shepard."

Well, that was… eerie. After a second, the message disappeared and a new file opened. A manifest, it looked like, from a private transport belonging to…

Bingo.

Eagerly, she snatched up the next pad. After the same message, this time a shipping receipt appeared. Her shipments were cleared. Better and better, she thought with a feline grin. The last was a recording—she didn't dare play it—but she recognized the frequency: Lawson's private line. She laughed, a low chuckle in the back of her throat, and lifted her coffee to her lips. Someone had just made her week. She went to move the container to the ground, but a small hole—no bigger than her finger—caught her eye. Cautiously, she slid her index finger through and—

The panel came away and she grinned. Old smugglers' tricks. Underneath sat a lacquered box, a white card on top of it, no bigger than a credit chit. In a familiar, elegant script, it read:

"Regina, A and I found information of interest to you. This is a gift from me. Be safe."

Shepard's smile softened and she set the card aside to open the lid. Within, nestled amongst folds of white silk, sat velvet pouches that made her eyes light up. "Thessian Sunset" one said, "Palaven Heat" another. "Drell Fancy" was new to her and she cautiously pulled it open to sniff the contents. Traces of ocean and smoke touched her senses and she closed the bag with a sigh. Liara always sent the nicest things. Beneath, a pearl-handled, single-shot pistol—small enough to fit beneath her clothes—winked in the early light and Shepard tucked it into the waistband of her trousers at the small of her back. As she sat, her head throbbed, but she paid it no mind, sweeping the datapads and pouches into a drawer with a satisfied smile. Only one thing could make her day perfect…

"Ms. Shepard, Mr. Vega is here. Shall I send him in?"

That wasn't it. "Yes, thank you Jules." She paused and added, "Is he still wearing that perpetual scowl?"

She heard the younger woman giggle and sipped her coffee. "No, ma'am."

Her door opened and her guard entered, the bulk of him dominating her cozy entryway. James Vega had come highly recommended by Detective Vakarian, and the private contractor he worked for assured her that he was the best: ex-Alliance, honorable discharge, with an arm-length list of commendations, including an N7 recommendation. He'd been… put out was putting it mildly, but he'd been displeased to be a glorified doorman at first, but it seemed Jules was beginning to charm smiles out of the ex-Marine. It had only taken the better part of a week.

"Good morning, ma'am."

"Good morning, Mr. Vega, but don't call me ma'am. It's bad enough I can't get Jules to stop. It makes me feel old." He smirked and she fixed him with a stern look. "I'm not so much older than you."

"If you say so, ma—Ms. Shepard."

She chuckled quietly, sipping her coffee again. She could see that he'd ignored her suggestion of lighter armor, and there was still an assault rifle and a shotgun strapped to his back, though she'd assured him neither would be necessary. His presence alone had already deterred plenty of "trouble", and set the rumor mill spinning, but he seemed determined to keep up appearances.

"Detective Vakarian requested a security report from my boss," Vega finally said casually and Shepard shook her head with a rueful smile as she stood to refill her cup.

"I'm sure. Coffee?"

He shook his head and continued. "He declined. The detective wasn't happy, but he was assured everything was taken care of. Thought you should know."

Shepard nodded, cradling her cup against her chest. "He means well," she replied smoothly, "But I think he's overreacting. I tried to tell him a personal guard would be enough, but he insisted on the full force. Your friends downstairs are probably bored silly."

James shrugged. "At least your office has a view," he acquiesced with a smirk, "But based on the incident report, I disagree with you."

"Well, lucky for me you work for me," she retorted, looking over at her console as it lit up cheerily. "Unfortunately for you, that was an isolated incident. I doubt your time here will be that interesting."

"We'll see."

He always said "we'll see." And for some reason, it made her feel better, like he'd be prepared. You never needed security before.

I never had to pretend to be nothing more than Regina Shepard before.

She hadn't been to the Illusive Man's apartment for days, but there was no helping that. Vega needed to think this was all she did. In time, she would sneak a day here and there, but for now, she just had to wait.

Soon.

The artificial sun of the day cycle left no warmth on her back, bathing the office in a golden glow. Shepard glanced up only for a second as the man posted at her door checked his weapons for the tenth time in half as many hours before looking back down at the datapads—purely business—laid out on her desk. He was intimidating, to be sure, but he struck her as someone better suited to active duty than private contracting for the rich and connected. He even dwarfed most of the C-Sec officers who had come and gone since the… incident.

"Mr. Vega, you can relax," she murmured, tapping out a quick note on one of the numerous reports in front of her, "I will be leaving shortly, and you will be free to pursue whatever interests you have beyond your obligations to me."

"With all due respect, Ms. Shepard, I'd feel better if you let me see you home," the hulking marine replied with a skeptical glance at the door, "My job is to keep you safe—"

"In my office, Mr. Vega, in my office," she informed him as she stood, "Once I leave this building, your responsibilities have ended." Shepard let out a long breath and stretched her arms above her head. "I appreciate your services, however you and I both know this was entirely at C-Sec's insistence as a bit of an overreaction to an extenuating circumstance."

"You mean Vakarian's insistence."

Shepard chuckled. "Mr. Vega, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were being insolent."

"Not me, ma'am, never," he replied with a grin that made her roll her eyes.

She glanced at her omnitool as it beeped at her and let out a low, breathy laugh. "Well, as it stands, Detective Vakarian has requested my presence, so I will be plenty safe." She smiled at him and shut down her console. "Take the rest of the day. I insist." He looked ready to refuse and Shepard pressed the intercom. "Jules, I will be out of the office for the rest of the day, at the detective's request. Please take the afternoon off." She threw her guard a knowing smile and nodded toward the door as she released the button. "I'm sure she would appreciate an escort to her skycar."

Vega blinked at her, then disappeared and Shepard sighed happily. The more she could push them together, the less he could follow her around. With great care, she repacked Liara's gifts in their hidden compartment and covered them with the false bottom, then replaced the datapads and resealed the box. She tucked the access key into her shirt and started for the door. When she opened it, though, she nearly ran into a turian in blue armor. A hand caught her elbow and kept her from falling and she laughed in spite of herself.

"Detective, I was just on my way to see you," she said with a smile as she stepped around him.

"I ran into Lieutenant Vega," he rumbled, not sharing her mirth, "I thought he was supposed to be with you at all times?"

Shepard sighed theatrically as they headed for the elevator; clearly he wouldn't share in her good mood. "Really, Detective, I think I would have managed the trip from my doorstep to your office, though you've saved me the trouble." She laughed at his sour expression. "You must see monsters around every corner."

Garrus tried to frown at her, but it was a lost cause. She was too charming, too independent. Maybe that's why he liked her so much.

She's distracting you from your investigation.

He ignored that voice most times. This was one of them. "That's where they usually are," he replied as they began to descend. "It's part of the job."

Shepard chuckled. "As is entertaining unattached donors?" She would always accept his invitations—spying made easy, she thought—but it seemed odd Pallin would allow so much time be spent away such a pivotal case. Perhaps he fancies me. That would be a laugh.

He coughed awkwardly into his fist and her smile widened. "Sometimes," he finally mumbled as the doors opened, and he gestured for her to go first. She shot him a pointed look but exited in front of him and he started after her, but something caught his eye and he grabbed her arm to stop her. "Regina, is that a gun?"

She looked back at him, then down to where the single-shot pistol peeked out of her waistband. "Yes, it is," she replied smoothly, "Why?"

He didn't know why it bothered him, but it didn't make sense for her to be armed. It didn't fit, in his mind, that she owned guns. She was a high-society woman, not a frontline soldier, or a slum runner. She didn't need guns. "I thought having a guard would be enough."

She rolled her eyes and shifted the box in her hands. "A hired gun is all well and good, but the best gun is your own," she replied, "A mercenary told me that when he caught me stowed away on his ship. I wonder what happened to him…"

He opened and closed his mouth a few times before releasing her arm. "Just be careful."

They emerged from the Venture headquarters and Shepard took a deep breath. The streets always smelled of exhaust and ozone and people. She loved it, but Regina Shepard was a classy lady, and classy ladies preferred the clean smells of sanitized offices. Garrus cast her a quizzical look and she smiled sheepishly.

"Vega has started wearing a rather potent cologne in hopes my secretary will notice."

Garrus frowned. "His attention should be on protecting you."

Shepard snorted, adjusting the box in her hands as he led the way toward his car. "If he's watching her, he's watching the door, which is the only way in or out. Besides, it makes him more personable." She slid into the passenger seat and settled the box in her lap. "And since I know you're thinking about it, don't bother calling Commander Nelson again. He won't listen."

She could see his mandibles pull tight for a second as the car rumbled to life. "You know about that."

It wasn't a question. "I do. I appreciate your concern, but you don't need to worry so much. I'm perfectly safe, and even if something does happen, there is a clause in the Venture bylaws guaranteeing continued support of C-Sec."

He swallowed and managed a small smile as they rounded a corner. A cargo transport screamed around the bend ahead of them and he swore, making Shepard look up sharply. He banked the car hard and slammed on the thruster, sending the car nearly straight up in the air. The transport clipped the tail of the car and it swerved wildly, caught in the transport's wake and its own momentum. It flipped once… Shepard's head bounced off the window and she grimaced, tucking her chin against her chest. Twice… The gravity stabilizer shorted with a bang and centripetal force jerked them both down toward the car's ceiling with enough force to snap one of the restraint belts across Garrus's chest. On the second rotation, the front corner struck a barrier and they slammed to the ground. Garrus swore up and down as he opened a channel on his omnitool, and Shepard slowly released her deathgrip on the box in her lap. Her heart pounded in her ears and she could feel her hands beginning to shake, but not from fear.

That was careless, she thought darkly as adrenaline pulsed in her fingertips, Sidonis knows we're under C-Sec's watch, now is not the time for stunts like that. She made a mental note to have some words with her chief runner, then forced her attention outward as the sound of people shouting outside the car reached her ears.

"This is Detective Vakarian, car Alpha-03. I've been struck by an unknown civilian transport on the Presidium. I have a VIP Passenger, no obvious injuries."

"I'm fine," Shepard said quickly, forcing a tremor into her voice. Her ears were ringing, but nothing major. "I'm fine." Her head throbbed, but adrenaline muffled it as though her head were filled with cotton.

"Transport showed no names or branding," he continued, eying her critically as she made a show of trying to unbuckle her harness until he finally reached over and undid it for her. "I didn't get a visual on the driver. Regina—Ms. Shepard, did you…?"

She shook her head slowly, wincing when it made her skull throb. "No, I'm sorry," she lied, gently touching her temple where her head had struck the glass. Immediately, she jerked her hand away and grimaced. That would bruise, she was sure.

Garrus nodded in acceptance and undid his own harness, lurching stiffly out of the car with a grunt. The car was a smoking mess, both ends dented and scarred, and a thick tendril of black smoke rose from beneath it. Shepard scrambled out after him, still clutching the box, and tried to stand as close to the barrier as possible as he surveyed the damage. People wandering the streets had stopped to stare at them across the skyway, pointing and murmuring to each other, and Shepard had to put a significant effort into looking scared and confused. You can't hide, you can't play this off. You were just in a scary accident, they expect you to be terrified, not calm and collected.

Within minutes, more cars raced up, sirens blaring, and circled around Garrus's wrecked vehicle. One took off in the direction he pointed as officers jumped out of the rest. Some began taking pictures, others moved off to question bystanders. Shepard found herself being herded away until someone gently sat her down on the seat of a patrol car.

"Ms. Shepard, are you alright?"

She recognized him, the officer that had come to her office after Garrus. Lang. That was his name. Eddie. "Yes, yes… thank you. Just…" She waved a hand, then wrapped her arms around the box again. "Where's Garrus?"

Lang gave her a sympathetic smile. "Giving his statement to IAB—Internal Affairs. He should be back any minute." He dropped into a crouch in front of her and she gave him a weak smile. "Can you tell me what happened?"

She pushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear, making sure he saw the way her hand shook. "We… Garrus had asked to meet with me. We were leaving my office. He'd come to pick me up." She laughed, making sure it was too loud and too high-pitched, her eyes too wide. "I was supposed to meet him, but he came to my office anyway and lectured me about sending my hired security home early." Lang nodded for her to continue and Shepard swallowed thickly. "I was teasing him for trying to influence the security firm behind my back when…" She let it trail off and Lang laid a sympathetic hand on her knee.

"I'm sure this is difficult, but can you tell me anything about the transport? What color it was? Anything about the driver?"

"I… I think it was blue?" White. "And… I… I think the driver was a salarian." Turian. "I'm sorry, I don't think I can tell you anything else."

Lang smiled and shook his head. "That's more than we knew before, thank you." He glanced off to one side and stood. "I'll leave you alone."

He was gone only an instant before Garrus appeared in front of her and she put her wane smile back on. "My life has been so much more exciting with you around," she joked lamely, but he indulged her in a smile anyway.

"Not my intention, I promise," he replied, offering a bottle of water and a ration bar. She wrinkled her nose at the pre-packed foodstuffs, but gratefully took the bottle and drank to hide her satisfied smirk. C-Sec would believe anything if you simpered and smiled enough. "Are you sure you're alright? I can take you to a clinic if—"

"No, no, please," she cut him off, "I'm fine, just a little shaken up. Can you…?" She held out the box and he took it quickly so she could stand, leaning one hand against the skycar's door. "What's going to happen now?"

He shrugged, tucking the box under one arm. If only he knew what he was holding… "They'll try to track down the driver, charge him for a hit and run. Probably increase the penalties since it was… well, us."

Shepard shook her head with a small smile, trying to ignore the way it made her vision swim. "Because it was a C-Sec car, or because I was with you?"

Garrus chuckled quietly. "C-Sec car, I'd imagine, although Pallin will probably demote me when he finds out you were in the car too."

"And I will gladly rush to your defense," she replied, casting a vague look around. "I suppose dinner is out of the question now…"

"Detective Vakarian! Ms. Shepard!"

Both turned and came face to face with a blinding spotlight. Garrus growled and Shepard blinked owlishly until the light dimmed, revealing a camera drone and a venomous looking reporter. Immediately, Shepard felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise and her lips pressed into a thin line.

"That was quite the accident," she said with such thick mock sincerity that Shepard had to resist the urge to gag, "It's a miracle you're both alright." She held out a hand. "Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani, Westerlund News." Neither made a move to shake her hand and she let it fall with a small sneer. "Word is you two have become quite cozy since your promotion, Detective. Any thoughts?"

"No."

The woman frowned. "Sources say you two have kept close company since you were assigned to the investigation into the crime syndicate known as the Family. Aren't you worried that your time spent with Ms. Shepard is taking away from your investigation?"

"No." Shepard could see anger beginning to set into the detective's shoulders as he stared her down.

The reporter, likewise, seemed to be growing frustrated with her lack of success and Shepard nearly laughed at her comical expression. "Rumors are circulating that you two are an item, is there—"

"Oh!"

Shepard swooned as realistically as she knew how, dumping the remaining water onto the camera drone. It sputtered and sparked before dropping to the ground with a thud and twitching pathetically on the sidewalk. The reporter looked murderous, but Garrus tactfully put his free arm around her waist.

"Ms. Shepard, I should find you a ride home. You shouldn't be standing out here after that accident."

"Thank you, Detective, I think you might be right."

She let Garrus lead her away before letting a grin spread across her face and chuckling quietly.

"You did that on purpose," he accused when they were far enough away and he stopped.

"Your skills of deduction do you credit," she replied with a smile, leaning carefully against the rapid transit station they'd stopped beside. "She was a zealot and would have said anything to get her ratings up, true or fabricated. Westerlund is nothing but a tabloid masquerading as the news."

Garrus smirked. "Sounds as if you've had run-ins with them before."

Shepard smirked back. "When Venture started getting attention, a Westerlund reporter came to interview me. I said yes, not knowing any better, and he proceeded to air a piece that painted me as a gold-digging harlot spending ex-lovers' money."

For a second, neither spoke, and Garrus seemed to be studying her anew. "I don't remember hearing anything about that."

"That," Shepard replied airily, "is because I sued Westerlund for defamation of character and forced them to retract the piece and issue a public apology. The reporter was also fired and had to leave the Citadel because no one would hire him." She chuckled. "Al-Jilani should know better…"

Garrus snorted and shook his head. "I suppose I should be grateful, but that's actually terrifying."

Shepard laughed outright, throwing her head back to let the sound ring. "Don't ever forget it," she shot back with a grin. After a second, her expression fell. "Is this going to put a dent in your investigation?"

He seemed to consider that a second before shaking his head. "I don't think so. I'm getting closer to identifying a way into the Family, and a C-Sec car wouldn't have done me any good. Besides, the hit and run will most likely be passed off to officers without an open case. They wouldn't let me investigate it anyway. Too close to the case, or something."

"Like the Saleon case?" His expression darkened and she bowed her head. "I'm sorry. I know you wanted to catch him."

Garrus sighed and nodded. "Yeah… Maybe someday. Let me get you a ride home."

He was halfway to reaching for the fast travel station when another woman pulled up alongside them.

"Detective Vakarian? Ms. Shepard? A word?"

Both looked up curiously and the woman smiled. "Emily Wong, Citadel News Net. That was a nasty accident, I saw it all. Are you both alright?"

She was young, Shepard could tell, probably still trying to catch her break. "Yes, thank you, Ms. Wong. Detective Vakarian was just offering to get me a ride home."

"Of course, Ms. Shepard. C-Sec owes you a great deal, don't they?"

Her brow furrowed slightly. "I suppose…"

"Detective Vakarian, you're currently investigating the Family, correct?"

"I… Yes, I am…" Garrus glanced at her curiously, but Shepard could only raise a brow in question.

"Rumor is there was an incident at your offices recently where C-Sec had to be called, correct, Ms. Shepard?"

"Yes, that did happen, but—"

"Do you think, then, that this may have been a second attempt on your life? As an active and well-known supporter of C-Sec, isn't it possible that the Family is trying to eliminate you in hopes of crippling C-Sec?"

Silence greeted her and Shepard opened and closed her mouth a few times before swallowing. A glance out of the corner of her eye told her that Garrus was just as surprised by the suggestion as she was, but resisted the urge to smile. Oh, this is too good… "I… I never… Detective, is that possible?" she asked, letting her voice crack and jump in pitch. She let a shred of panic slip onto her face and grabbed his arm. "Could there be someone after me?"

Garrus blinked, seeming to think that over for a second before pulling his mandibles tight to his face. "It's possible…"

"Is Ms. Shepard in danger?"

"Am I? Oh Maker…"

"No, no, you're not. She's not," Garrus said quickly, "C-Sec is very actively investigating the Family, and Ms. Shepard has recently hired on a professional, para-military security force for her offices. I will request a plain-clothes officer be stationed outside her home and office until we can definitively say that there is no plot against Ms. Shepard's life." He looked at her the whole time he said it, and inside, Shepard was giddy. Like putty in my hand… "Ms. Shepard is perfectly safe."

Emily Wong nodded. "Of course. We have the utmost faith in C-Sec, Detective. Ms. Shepard." With that, she was gone, and Shepard watched her go for a moment before looking back at Garrus.

"You're not really going to put officers outside Venture and my apartment, are you?"

He fixed her with a stern look. "Yes, I am." Her distaste must have shown because he held up a hand. "She has a point, there's nothing saying that the Family wouldn't target C-Sec's benefactors to prevent them from being discovered. And I think Pallin will agree." He keyed up the rapid transport and she huffed out a sigh. "Like it or not, until I'm certain that Ms. Wong is wrong, there will be officers stationed with you at all times."

Fan-fucking-tastic…

Shepard spent the ride back to her apartment staring out the window in sullen silence. The fresh recruit that had been assigned to her first watch fidgeted nervously. An asari, fresh out of her maiden stage, Shepard was sure, and more than a little bit scared of what she thought was a high-value assignment. "I'm not going to bite," Shepard finally sighed, looking back down at the box in her lap and tracing the edges absently. If the detective had known what he had been holding, he wouldn't have been so quick to give it back to her. More than enough to arrest me, maybe even implicate me… But he'll never know.

"I—Of course not, ma'am," the asari said quickly, sitting ramrod straight and clasping her hands in her lap.

"What's your name?" Shepard asked, studying the young asari anew. Her skin was a deep blue, almost purple, though there were traces of white paint along her scalp. Silver markings framed her eyes and cheekbones, and her bottom lip was painted the same color, trailing down to disappear beneath her chin. Pretty, if Shepard was any judge, but not her type. Too jumpy. Liara was all feline grace and confidence. She didn't walk, but sashayed. She didn't just radiate power, but oozed desire like a pheromone. No one was like Liara.

"Lelliana," she said quickly, "I mean, Officer Lelliana T'Rossi, ma'am."

"T'Rossi… From Illium?"

The girl nodded quickly. "Yes, ma'am. My mother trades stock."

Is that what she tells you? "I see. And your father?"

The asari looked down at her hands. "He… He was a salarian scientist, with the STG. But he died…"

"I'm sorry." It always mystified Shepard that people could feel anything but hatred for their fathers—perhaps that was why she found the detective sympathetic—but it was often she who was the minority.

"It's alright, he was… He lived a full life, my mother said." The asari smiled. "She always talks about how proud he was of his work, how important it was to him."

That, Shepard could relate to. "He sounds like a lovely person." The car pulled to a stop and Shepard got out fluidly. "Thank you, Officer. I can manage from here, if you don't mind? I… need to be alone."

She blinked but nodded. "Of course, ma'am. A car will be down here all night, if you need anything."

Shepard forced herself to smile and nodded before pushing through the door. As soon as the young officer was out of sight, her smile fell. I assure you, I won't, she thought darkly as she entered the elevator. She opened her omnitool when the doors closed. "Tali, I have a slight problem," she murmured.

"What's the problem, Shepard?" the quarian asked, urgency creeping into her voice.

"Easy, Tali. C-Sec is crouched on my doorstep because they think the Family is after Regina." She chuckled. "I won't correct them, but it means my movements are going to be watched very closely."

She could hear Tali tapping dutifully at her consoles—it had been less than a week since she'd been released from medical, yet the quarian had insisted on getting back to work—and waited. "Will they be in the building?"

"No," Shepard replied, "I put my foot down. Still, I couldn't stop them from putting a car outside my apartment and my office."

Tali hummed in acknowledgement and Shepard waited. "I may have a solution."

Shepard let a catlike grin spread across her face as she strode toward her penthouse door, box tucked under her arm. "I knew I could count on you, Tali."