An: Please note that the misspelling in Shepard's name to Shepherd is intentional to reflect the definition of a person that tends and rears sheep. It will change later in the story, but for now it is intentional. Thank you for all that reviewed!

I own nothing.

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When a week had finally passed, Garrus had assumed that was the last he would ever see of the human Duct Rat unless he was cleaning her body out of one of the vents. It was a sad thought if he was completely honest, but the likely course of events and no one ever said life was fair. So he went about his duties as usual. Fights needed to be broken up, smugglers stopped, and ordinances upheld. He had been forced to pull one or two drunken people off of the Presidium for a hefty fine. Though, it had given him an excuse to visit the spot and he still enjoyed it even though one person had lost the contents of their stomach all over him upon sight.

Garrus pretended that he hadn't shoved the individual harder than strictly necessary into the air car.

He was also bogged down with a few cases he was looking into. After the incident with the mercenaries, he had rallied the entire department into pressing the C-Sec commander into probing deeper as to how they managed to get aboard the Citadel without anyone being alerted. The implications alone were unpleasant. However, he was met with a frustrating lack of Intel on the entire thing. People mysteriously 'saw nothing' or if they had, they were either cowed into not speaking or had been bribed well enough they didn't care about putting others in danger.

He clicked his mandibles in irritation, his hand rubbing over his tired face. It was well into the night by Citadel common time. Garrus blinked blearily up from some more reports on vandalism, theft, and assault; to check his omni-tool. He should have been in bed hours ago, but found he had trouble sleeping with the mercs on the prowl. He straightened his aching back and moved his sore neck for a moment.

"If I could just get something on these low-life scum," he muttered with absent-minded determination, "then I could do something about them." He gave a low growl of pure frustration.

The street-clothed undercover C-Sec officers hadn't been able to dredge up anything of worth. This left Garrus to believe the mercs had closed ranks, making it nigh on impossible to get an informant in. Slowly, he had considered and rejected a multitude of possibilities. And, while he was willing to take a risk, he didn't count someone's life as a viable risk option.

Dejectedly, he rose from his chair, and turned off his terminal. He straightened up his desk and grabbed his weapon on the way out the door. He paused to wave goodbye to the swing-shift officers who gave back calls of good will. The doors to C-Sec closed behind him as he ventured forward into the mock-night of the Citadel. Practically no-one was out and he waved to a fellow officer on patrol that crossed his path. The Asari gave him a quick smile and nod, and then was gone.

Tiredly he walked up the steps to his apartment building, and keyed in the security code that allowed all residents access to the elevator. Grumbling that he still had to inform his partner that they were no closer since they'd begun, Garrus opened and stumbled into his apartment.

Only, instead of being able to shuck off his armor and crawl into bed, he froze. There, sitting innocently on the floor in his living room, was a data pad he had no memory of dropping. In fact, it wasn't even C-Sec issue. Cautiously, he upholstered his weapon and moved forward. Years in the Turian military and in C-sec had caused Garrus to become just a tad paranoid about the possibility of being intruded upon in his personal space. His apartment furniture was strategically placed so he had many options to cover behind.

He pressed forward, checking behind every door, inside every closet or cupboard, and even under his bed. All the rooms were clear, and he attentively placed his gun back in its holster. He was still on high alert, however. Mystified and now filled with a small amount of dread, he returned to the living room to pick up the pad.

It was encrypted, which surprised him. He was half-expecting some sort of threat against his life. It took a good half-hour to hack, but when he finished his face plates nearly flew off in amazement. It was details on the Merc movements. Everywhere they had been combined with descriptions of a handful or so of men and women who had assumed double lives. One was completely respectable, a local vendor Garrus had bout some upgrades from, and the other was a dirty dealing merc. He hissed, rumbled, and growled his way through the information.

He had no idea who could have left him such a wealth of information. It even had sightings of suspected illegal substance dealings. Garrus was floored. His previous fatigue melted away and he quickly made a copy and attached it to his Omni-tool. If the data checked out, well then, Garrus had some house cleaning to do.

OoOoOo

It continued on like that for a several days. Cases he was working on would catch a break from his mysterious informant. Garrus was inclined to think perhaps somewhere along the lines his good deeds had paid off and now he was reaping the rewards. He had tried to lay ground to catch his informant. Not to cause them harm, or press them for more info-instinct told him this was likely all they had on the subject- but to offer them the protection C-Sec informants were entitled to.

There was some grumbling around the office over how 'lucky' he had gotten. It was light hearted at first, until he saw a fellow Turian eyeballing him with open dislike. Ah, they thought he was becoming a favorite somehow because he had found a good source of information.

While it was never enough for a 'slam dunk' as the humans called it, it was always enough for probable cause to launch an investigation. For the majority of the week, C-Sec had been busily hauling in suspects, confronting them with the gathered Intel, and locking up the majority. Some had to be let go when their high paid defenders came with some song and dance forcing their release. However, not all of them were so fortunate and mercs being the backstabbing lot they are, cut all ties to the ones captured. This left them in a more giving mood when it came to ratting out their cohorts. Garrus had slept better than he ever had since before he joined the military because the streets were being cleared up. It made Garrus feel like C-Sec was capable of actually making a difference and not just tied up in bureaucratic tape.

He reveled in it each new day now, instead of simply dragging himself to work and enduring. It was a fantastic feeling and he had missed it. His mandibles flared with pride at the latest arrest, a real bastard that had been capturing quarians on pilgrimage and selling them as slaves. It sickened him that the majority of the poor souls they had recovered suffered from suit punctures, and infections. He had personally contacted the Flotilla. They had been understandably sickened and enraged by the news. Garrus was very glad he was not a Batarian if the way the suit filters had portrayed the admiralty's rage were anywhere near correct.

The Intel from his mystery source regarding that bust had been delivered to his work station somehow. And, it had not been the first time the pads had been left at his desk. He wasn't sure how the informant was getting in and out without being seen, but it was certainly helpful to have the information all the same.

Also, Garrus had noticed that it was never the same encryption twice, which had left him mightily impressed. Whoever this was, wanted to be sure that it was read only by him.

The Citadel time chimed for the dinner hour in C-Sec, and for the first time in weeks, Garrus found himself with enough time to actually go out to eat instead of hastily cramming his mandibles full of food and chewing with barely enough time to swallow. So he stopped by a café he greatly enjoyed where the owner was a Turian he had served with, his wife was on Palaven visiting family for a time.

They exchanged pleasantries, and Garrus found himself wandering over to the park area. A bench would do quite nicely, and he could watch the stars with interest. Secretly, he would always try to find the stars that led the way back to his home world.

"Tech here! Get your tech! Greatly reduced prices!" Garrus looked up to see a young human male, with slightly broken teeth calling out to the few that remained in the park at this hour. The c-Sec officer noted that all the tech was on the 'high theft' list. Garrus rumbled low in his chest, feeling the vibrations of his upset all the way to his bones. That little punk was dealing in stolen tech, right in front of him.

"I wouldn't worry about him," A decidedly female voice said from his right. He glanced up to see that human from weeks ago, her eyes every bit as enthralling as before. Gingerly she sat next to him on the bench. He knew they looked like polar opposites in station. She was the poorest of the poor with dirt clinging to her hands and fingers as she scrapped food together every day. While he was a respected C-Sec Officer with plenty to eat and clean nearly all the time; as well as welcomed among the majority of the Citadel. She rested a hand lightly on the bench and looked up with a slightly wistful expression at the stars, "he usually only takes what he's given and Mouse is harmless really. Small time stuff at best, for you C-Sec."

Garrus blinked at her, his head tilted as he pondered her. "Mouse, huh?"

She looked back toward him, those haunting eyes just watching patiently. "That's his name. Well, the name he was given anyway."

His mandibles fluttered questioningly, and his face plates shifted slightly into a confused look. "Who gives you the names of rodents?"

A small smile tugged at her lips, and he realized with some concern that he enjoyed making her smile. "They call us a lot worse than rodents," she glanced at him pointedly and he belatedly understood they were already called 'Duct Rats'. "And, besides, that's not how we get our names. We get them placed on us by other Duct Rats," she says the title without bitterness. The way she says it sounds like it is simply a fact and that is what they are. "By how we behave or how we look. Our actions or deeds, and temperament all play part in the naming."

His blue eyes looked down, and he noted uncomfortably that he liked her being so close to him. He nearly growled at himself for turning into a deviant pervert. She was a minor according to human law, and he knew that because if she had been an adult Garrus did not doubt she would have gotten a respectable job by now to support the ones that followed her.

So he shouldn't feel a wave of arousal course through him because she was young. Also she was a human, and … and… she was a human! He needed to blow off some steam. While there weren't many female turians on the Citadel, there were a few that would be alright with easing some tension with him.

He tried to console himself, that it was only due to the fact he was slightly lonely, and hadn't had female companionship in a while that he was even remotely attracted to the human female. Garrus didn't have a problem with humans, but he didn't have a fetish for them either.

"What…uh, what do they call you?" He warbled out as steadily as he could.

She rose slowly, he watched her curiously, and tried in vain not to notice the way her limp fringe moved with her. Her strange human eyes that had caused him more than a few hours of self-doubt turned to him fully.

"They call me Shepherd," she inclined her head slightly back towards the vents, "because I watch after the children."

"You're a child yourself," he growled out softly.

"No," she smiled gently and shook her head, "I'm just Shepherd."

He warbled amusement, "My name is-"

"Garrus Vakarian," she finished for him, with a strange delight in those odd human eyes, "I already know."

"Ah," his mandibles fluttered in slight embarrassment. "You've been checking up on me? I'm flattered."

A wry grin spread over her features. "Something like that," she commented dryly.

Then she was gone, fading into the crowd so quickly that Garrus couldn't keep track of her. He scratched the side of his fringe in a nervous gesture, and looked at where she had been. What he saw then, gave him pause. Where her hand had been, was now a data pad. And, it was exactly like all the ones that had mysteriously turned up at his apartment and work.

Shepherd was his informant, and part of him wondered if it was because he had saved her life… or the children's.