Jack and her students were quickly assigned to the citadel for further instruction, a shuttle arriving shortly after to escort them. The Normandy was quiet, which is what piqued Garrus' curiosity when he heard someone milling about in the mess hall. It wasn't hard to guess who it was, as he rolled out of his bunk and opened the battery doors.

Shepard was sitting at the long table, her head in her hands. It looked like there was an invisible but heavy weight sitting on her shoulders, drooping them down. Hair swept over her gazeless eyes; red curls like tendrils of flame. Even in her sadness, she still struck Garrus as a beacon of firey awe. It made his mandible twitch, which in the stillness of the room was loud enough to draw her attention. Her head swiveled to him, a tired half smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

"I wondered how long it would take me to find you here," Garrus almost hummed he was talking so low. He pulled up the seat across from her.

"Apparently not long enough for you to get fully undressed?" she pointedly rested her gaze on his bare chest, his pants consisting of little more than the mesh undersuit of his armor. He was suddenly very aware at his lack of covering. His mandible twitched in embarrassment, which didn't escape Shepard's attention. Thank the spirits she couldn't hear his heart suddenly studder in his chest.

"If this body doesn't cheer you up, I don't think anything will," he tried to brush off his self consciousness with humor, hoping to see some glimpse of a smile sneak onto her lips. Instead she looked down at the table and tucked a curl behind her ear.

"Do you remember Pragia?" she traced an imaginary circle on the table with her fingernail. They were finally long enough to make it appear that she cut the habit of biting them.

"The mission or the ah...debrief?"

"Both, I guess….I…" the imaginary circles grew tighter and faster, her scraping nail hurt his sensitive hearing. She opened her mouth to speak again, but her voice caught in her throat before words could form.

"Permission to speak freely, soldier" Garrus grinned, caught as Shepard looked up. Those were the mess hall rules. They could talk and be more than just soldiers. They could be people, with actual feelings. Not just regulations and missions. Anything laid out on the table stayed there and was fair game to bring up, including whatever was on her mind.

"I remember being so angry going through that compound. I never had the delusions that Cerberus was good in any way...maybe their intentions were ok, but never their methods. But I saw what Jack went through, I saw the cells and I saw that these people were no better than the batarians that took me and my sister. The monsters that...murdered our parents," she paused, looking over Garrus' shoulder and into the dark distance. "That was the first time I felt like a slave again,"

"I remember. The Illusive Man was keeping you in the dark, having you do his bidding,"

"I was his puppet. I felt like every ounce of control I had fought for was slipping through the scars they left me. I thought I was going to go crazy. When I saw that the bastards had a data file of Mindoir, I… I almost lost it," he remembered that data disk clutched in her hands, her screaming at EDI to try reading the corrupted file again for what it meant. Even after confronting Miranda, eventually the Illusive Man himself, there still were no answers. What did they have to do with her colony raid? "But you're what brought me back from the brink. You told me something I'll never forget-"

"That you were, and are, still the leader of this crew. That no level of modification from the Illusive Man could have added or taken that away from you. It's as natural to you as your ridiculous red fringe," she looked up at him, her eyes wide. "I remember, because it's still true. I know you saw yourself in those girls on Grissom, and I know you're kicking the shit out of yourself for what happened. But you went back, Shepard. You went back for them when most people would wash their hands and finish the mission," tears welled in her eyes that wouldn't make it to the surface. He hated seeing the visible evidence of her pain, and wanted more than anything to take it away. But she needed to hear this.

"What good did going back do? It didn't change anything in the end. People only see the mission reports-the success. They don't see the shit show behind it,"

He took her hand before she could continue. "You gave them something no one else could have-that Cerberus crap could've been the last thing they ever heard. They would've thought no one cared to come for them. But instead, they see some jacked up human flying through to save them. They could have been turned into something worse than the end they had," her hand stayed under his as he spoke, and her eyes settled on his gloveless talons. Nothing was going to be fixed tonight, but it was a start. Her thumb brushed his leather palm.

"Thank you, Garrus. I really have missed you,"

"Of course you have. Though unfortunately my scars have started to heal. I remember how they used to drive you wild…" he let his shit eating grin creep over his mandibles, looking over her sideways. She shoved his hand away, finally a smile spreading and lighting up her eyes.

"The one on your ass, most of all," she winked as he shivered, suddenly realizing that the clothing that normally regulated his heat was no longer present on his upper body. She obviously noticed this, getting up to take his hand and take him back to his bunk in the battery. "You're no good to me frozen. Let's get you some clothes,"

"I have to say, my ego is a little wounded that you're taking me back to my bunk to put my clothes on me," they both snickered, though were careful not to wake Chakwas as they passed the med bay. Their footsteps were silent without the added weight of heavy boots, the whistle and hum of the battery doors the only giveaway of their presence.

"As big as it is, I'm sure it will heal in no time. Much faster than hypothermia, anyway," he admiringly watched her as she moved through his sparse belongings with ease. She knew exactly where to find his shirt, as he was a creature of habit when it came to his gun battery. "Now I assume you know how to put this on...but I suppose it might need some calibrating,"

"There are plenty of very tasteful and humorous times to slip in that line. Plenty. And yet somehow out of all of those times, you found one where it didn't even work," they both laughed easily at this.

Seeing her smile again, her cheeks turned flush under the network of freckles, filled him to the brim with warmth. He couldn't remember the last time he was this happy, shocking as it was after the horrible mission they just finished. Should he feel guilty? Was it normal to be so overjoyed by a woman finding his shirt? There was a time when he would've been more concerned with the fact that this human woman made him so delighted, but that time was past. He accepted the fact that he was hers, body and spirit, and that her smooth delicate hands held every inch of his future. Thoughts blurred with the fatigue the early hours brought him, but it did nothing if not add to the senseless euphoria that filled him as he looked at this goddess that stood before him.

He couldn't help himself: we swung Shepard into his arms, his leg catching her as he dipped her like a lover's dance. They hung there like that for a moment, Shepard's heartbeat pounding against his chest, its frenzied rhythm loud enough for even human ears. She met his gaze, intent and deep. He nuzzled his brow against hers, breathing in the intoxicating cocktail of mint and everything human. His human.

"I missed you too, Jane,"

And in that moment, everything was right in the galaxy.