Garrus let out a deep sigh and shut his eyes in irritation. He knew it was his own damn fault, because he was well aware of the fact that Shepard couldn't hold her damn liquor. But it still bothered him as she drunkenly moved across the dancefloor of Afterlife, sneaking looks at an unfamiliar turian.

…

Shepard felt the room sway, her eyes unable to lock onto anything. Still, she chuckled and stumbled forward, almost knocking a dancing couple down with her. A taloned hand caught her arm. "You okay there?" The turian had white face paint. It accented his dark skin and scaled perfectly.

Shepard nodded her head sluggishly. "Oh, yeah, yeah...Want to get a drink? You seem fun. I sure need a drink. Oh, yes I do!"

The turian blinked and steadied her. "Ha, I don't think that's a great idea." He gulped when he noticed her dress starting to reveal certain areas of her chest. Her bra was visible. Still, the turian shook any thoughts of human anatomy from his head and gripped her shoulders, with her back to him. "What's your name sweetheart?"

"Sweetheart? HA!" Shepard found herself giggling as the turian ushered her through the crowd. "I once threatened a guy for calling me that but that's just dandy tonight! My name is Shep. Shepard. Yeah, that's it."

The turian froze. "Commander Shepard?"

The woman nodded her head with an overwhelming lack of coordination. "Yeah, that's me!" Her voice was uncharacteristically chipper.

The stranger's mandibles flexed and he felt himself push Shepard through the crowd faster. "Where are...Where are we going?" Shepard asked, her words slurred and rough. She didn't receive an answer as he shoved her out the door.

…

Garrus felt the anger flare inside of him when he saw the turian put his hands on Shepard's shoulders. He turned to pay his tab but when he went to get up, Shepard and the turian were gone. Garrus gave a low growl and hastily moved towards the main exit. "What the fuck, Shepard?"

…

The turian shoved Shepard against a wall, his leg between hers. He growled near her ear. "You know, Shepard, it's a shame I have to do this to you. You're too damn pretty."

Shepard's struggled against him, but her intake of alcohol left her with impaired motor skills. "What the hell do you want?" She glared at him, but slammed her eyes shut when she felt the world spinning around her.

Her captor took out a gun from a holster at his hip and brought it up so that it was pressed against the area between Shepard's chin and neck. "You know who was my good friend, Commander? Hm?" He cocked his pistol and breathed out. "A turian. His name was, let's see. What was it again? Oh, right. Saren." He paused. "Ring any bells, Commander?"

The woman's eyes went wide. The turian chuckled darkly in response. "Oh, so you do know him! Well, say hello to him when you see him in hell."

The blast made Shepard let out an uncharacteristic scream. She fell to her knees and felt blood drip all over her. But when she looked down, it wasn't the right color. With a tired turn of her head, Shepard looked over and saw Garrus. He looked completely panicked.

"Shepard, are you alright!?" He rushed to her and hoisted her up and pulled her close against him. "What the hell were you thinking?" The question sounded more relieved rather than accusatory.

"I don't know...He was one of Saren's friends." Shepard frowned. "I thought that my issues with Saren were in the past. I thought that was over. Hey, you wanna buy me a drink."

Garrus's breath hitched at mention of Saren, but he decided it was not worth making Shepard upset. "You know what? Sure. But then, straight back to the Normandy. Alright?"

…

The next day, Shepard suffered the worst hangover of her life and stunk of turian blood and her own vomit.