Lizzie wiped the sweat from her brow with a gloved hand and peered through the scope. The compound was quiet, and she had been watching it for four days, gaining intel. Eight guards on a rotating shift. Two ground vehicles, one shuttle. But not her target. She shifted slightly, relieving the cramp in her left thigh. Her camouflage blended her with the forest, and several times the wildlife had walked in front and even over her, not realising she was human. She ate sparingly and drank less. Sleep was caught in snatches at a time.

Lizzie heard the sound of a shuttle in the distance, coming in low and turned her eyes slowly to the sound. It was the green vehicle she had been expecting. A dark smile curved her lips, crackling the camouflage paint that had dried on her skin. She slid the safety off her weapon and peered through the scope to the landing pad. There were guards waiting, and she could see they were lazy in their duties, barely even seeming to care that their boss was arriving. Their guns were not at the ready. Lucky for her.

The shuttle swung in. A spider crawled across her cheek but she didn't move. Her sights were set. The wind was perfect. The shuttle door opened. She readied. A guard stepped out. Then a second. They flanked the entrance to the shuttle.

Then the asari she had been waiting for. Caris V'lorn. A murderous pirate responsible for the deaths of hundreds. Blue skinned, with white tattoos on her face, she strode confidently from the shuttle, turning perfectly to speak to the guard on her left.

Lizzie squeezed the trigger.

Blue blood sprayed on the shuttle wall and the asari fell in a boneless heap, a massive hole in her skull.

Lizzie went back into cover as the guards, bereft of their leader, started firing wildly into the jungle. She crawled slowly backwards from the ridge, batting the spider to the ground. She hefted her rifle and forcing her screaming muscles into a run, she double timed it away from the camp. She could hear the sound of shouting and chaos from the camp.

Shepard sent the signal and was picked up two hours from the compound. She removed her targeting visor, propped the rifle between her knees and laid her head back to sleep the hour it would take to get back. She had lied to her friends. She wasn't just working the perimeter on simple guard duty. N7 didn't do guard duty.

"Coming into Constant now, sir," the voice of the shuttle pilot woke her all too soon and she wearily picked up her visor and rifle. She was grimy, smelled worse and wanted something to eat rather than paste. When she stepped out onto the clean grey landing pad of the Alliance compound, she felt a small sense of relief. For the first time in four days, she could use a toilet without squatting behind a bush. But first, she had to report.

"The target is dead, sir," Lizzie saluted sharply, "Confirmed kill at 0932 today."

"Well done, Lieutenant Commander," Captain Khyle Green returned the salute, "That will screw over those bastards."

"Thank you, Captain," Lizzie nodded sharply, "They were in disarray when I left."

"Good," the Captain tapped some keys on his datapad, "I have cleared your leave. Unfortunately, I need you to stay on duty for twenty four hours."

"Sir?" Lizzie couldn't contain her disappointment.

"I'm sorry, LC," the Captain shook his head, "I need you to look after a VIP delegation. With those pirates stirred like a hornets nest, it's a concern and you're my only N7."

"VIP's?" Lizzie rose a brow.

"They arrived this morning. Turians," he shook his head in disgust, "Planning to tour the facilities to arrange trade."

"Takes all sorts, sir," Lizzie shrugged.

"Go get cleaned up, get a square meal and get some rack time," the Captain ordered, "You can come back on in the morning."

"Yes, sir," Lizzie saluted sharply and turned to leave. She could feel the shower already, its warm bliss over her skin. She swiped a hand down her face. Four days in the field made her skin feel like leather under the paint she had applied on her skin and through her hair. She didn't even try to run a hand through her hair. The colour applied to dull its natural red was like glue. Sexy look, Shepard. Compared to bronze silks and black slinky dresses…well…it was a long way from there.

Lizzie exited the Captain's office and came face to face with one of the VIP's. She groaned. Hells.

"General Vakarian," she greeted him, choosing to ignore the low thud in the vicinity of her gut.

The turian's eyes narrowed before widening in recognition, "Spirits, Lieutenant Commander Shepard, is that you?"

"Can't wear pretty dresses out here, General," came the blunt reply. Lizzie shifted her rifle to a more comfortable position on her shoulder.

He studied her face before dropping his gaze to take in the rest of her. He frowned and touched her ghillie suit with a taloned hand, "You have been out in the field?"

"You are very astute," she was too tired for politeness and knew she bordered on rudeness.

"What was your mission?"

"Confidential," she was getting irritated.

"Mmmm," his blue gaze searched her face with an intensity that felt too familiar.

Silence held between them for a moment. Lizzie shifted awkwardly, "Look, I really need to get cleaned up. No shower for four days in this heat…"

"Of course, Lieutenant Commander," Garrus bowed his head, shifting slightly in embarrassment as he got out of her way.

She nodded at him, feeling his eyes watching her as she turned to walk away.

"Elizabeth?" Garrus called after her hesitantly.

Lizzie looked over her shoulder at him, "Yes?"

"Will you be coming to the hall for dinner tonight?"

No. "Yes," Shit, why did she just say that?

"Good," he nodded, "Sorry to keep you."

The corner of her lips quivered in an almost smile. He looked so, well…freaking handsome standing there. Shit.

Lizzie stared at herself in the mirror. It wasn't just bad. It was worse. She looked like someone had dragged her a hundred klicks behind a horse and, in addition, smelled like its armpit. She yanked her tank over her head, her lean muscles flexing with every movement. She stepped into the showers and soaped the last four days away. Her feet were submerged in dirty water for several minutes.

After a long, long shower where she may have spent several minutes just propped in the stall trying to get up the energy to leave, Lizzie stepped into the small room she had been given as privilege of being the only N7 and was brought up short. Solana Vakarian was seated on her bed, crosslegged and scrolling through a datapad.

"Gods," Lizzie growled, "If it's not one, it's the other…"

She dumped her toiletry pack on the desk and leaned up against it, clad only in a towel and sighed, "What cryptic message are you going to deliver now, Miss Vakarian?"

Solana's mandibles flared in a smile, "I am sorry, Lieutenant Commander, to come to you in such an informal and improper manner."

"Apology accepted," Lizzie replied abruptly, still clearly annoyed.

Solana paused thoughtfully for a moment.

"Look," Lizzie began, "I have been out in the field four days, I have slept little, eaten less. I'm not a patient woman at this point."

"So my brother says," Solana's subharmonics were rich with amusement, "In fact he has said a lot about you."

Lizzie rose a brow in query, "Uh huh."

"No, really," Solana swung her legs down and stood up. She bore a great resemblance to her sibling, though her features were much more refined, "He likes you."

Lizzie snorted, and crossed her arms over her chest, "I'm sure you are going to come to a point."

"Just give him a chance?"

Lizzie pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes in frustration, "A chance to do what?"

"I will leave you to get dressed and I will see you at dinner?"

"Wait! What?" Lizzie opened her eyes but Solana was already gone. She smacked her fist on the side of the cupboard, and growled, "Irritating family!"

When dressed, she checked her messages and smiled when she received one from Tali. But her expression soon turned to moody anger. Tali was no longer in the Ambassador's office. Kal'Reegar had inexplicably ended their relationship, politely told her she was welcome to stay on. But in the face of that, she could not see him every day. She was in love with him, and had no wish to torture herself. She was going to return to the quarian fleet. She wished Lizzie were near to talk to. Lizzie rapid typed a reply.

Dinner was promptly at seven, and Lizzie had decided to play nice and wore her Alliance dress blues, yanking her hair back into a simple queue, the strands having lengthened in the last three months. She stepped into the room, and the thirty or so Alliance grunts within burst out with applause and a chorus of whistles. Her cursed pale skin flushed. She rubbed a hand on her chest in embarrassment.

"Woohoo!"

"That showed 'em, LC!"

She was pummelled and back-thumped all the way to the cafeteria line. Jaycee, the notoriously foul tempered cook, put an extra serving of warm bread on her tray. Lizzie smiled at her and got a wink in return. Even though no one was meant to know about her mission - everyone seemed to know its outcome anyway.

"The Captain asked for you to join the VIP's," Green's aide leaned in and whispered. Lizzie glanced up at the table and sighed. Yeah. The Vakarians along with another couple of turians were up eating with the Captain and were watching her with curiosity. Well, the General was watching her with an enigmatic expression - but since that was his default, she didn't place much stock in that. Lizzie brought her tray up and took the chair next to Solana, and opposite her brother. She bowed her head politely at the rest of the delegation as she was introduced as their guide for the next day. She ate in silence until Garrus leaned forward and asked:

"So it was you who shot Caris V'lorn this morning?"

Lizzie jerked her head up from staring at her plate. She glanced quickly at the Captain, who shrugged.

"Yes," she took a mouthful of potato.

He leaned back, "Our people have been after her for a very long time. How did you manage it?"

Lizzie made a show of glancing around, she leaned in and whispered, "I am very, very sneaky, General." She leaned back, took another mouthful of vegetable and was surprised when he let out a laugh. Surprised that he found amusement in her teasing, and worse, when the sound caused heat to coil in her gut. Tamp down on that shit, girl. Solana chuckled beside her. Lizzie cleared her throat and tried to revert to disappearing into the woodwork again, but was prevented from doing so by the charming interaction between Solana and her brother. They teased and chatted back and forth, asking her questions to which she responded with her usual dry wit. She found herself enjoying the evening more than she thought possible. And more than once, she had looked across the table and found Garrus Vakarian watching her with that heated look.

At the end of the meal, they stood. Garrus moved around to stand beside her, "Indulge me with a brief walk, Lieutenant Commander? There are some things I wish to discuss with you."

Lizzie sighed internally. All she wanted was rack time, but politely she nodded and took the lead as he gestured for her to do so. The night sky was magnificent. In the clean air of Eden Prime the stars shone brilliantly. Lizzie walked in silence for a time, leading Garrus a circuitous route. She actually started to enjoy the experience. Until he spoke.

"Lieutenant Commander…Elizabeth…" Garrus touched her shoulder to get her to halt.

She blinked at him in surprise, and paused, clasping her hands behind her back, "Yes, General?"

He dropped his hand and paced for a moment. She watched him warily.

"General, I…"

"Look, this wont do," Garrus interrupted her.

"Wont…do what?" she was confused.

"You confound me!" he growled.

"You have lost me…" Lizzie frowned.

"I find myself utterly attracted to you, despite your humanity, your unknown family, your dangerous work!" his voice was sharper than he intended, and spoken with almost insulting vehemence, "You are entirely unsuitable, but I can't stop thinking about you."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Lizzie clenched her teeth and ground out the reply.

"Is that all you have to say?" he threw his arms wide in frustration, "I am confessing my affection for you…and all you can say is you are sorry?"

Lizzie snapped. Later she would replay her next words in her head and wince, but she was tired. So tired. And she had a turian that had a particular talent for rubbing her entirely the wrong way, ranting at her in the middle of Constant, when all she wanted to do was sleep.

"You are right," she began softly, belying the dangerous glint in her eyes, "I'm not sorry. I don't give a damn how you feel about me, General Vakarian. You are attracted to me 'despite my humanity', oh. Well thank /you/ very much. I don't find the turian form particularly pleasing either. Its not like it would make for a comfortable night making love in bed!" Her voice was still quiet, though it now held considerable venom, "And my parents were killed by batarian pirates on Mindoir. They were both Alliance officers; good, brave and they loved me. Who cares that the name 'Shepard' is not attached to crown or country? My parents loved me until the day they died - so frankly, you can go to hell on that point." She stalked forward and shoved him in the chest, causing him to stumble back a pace, "As for my 'dangerous work'? At least I am doing something worthwhile! Not sitting on my ass, kissing up to politicians and preventing good, honest men from attaining a reward that they have worked for! How could you stop someone from getting Spectre training?" Her voice had risen in pitch, reflecting her anger, "It's pathetic and it's small." She shoved him again, but this time it was like trying to push over a stone wall. "Should I feel thankful that the great General Vakarian has professed his adoration for me? Someone who is so unsuitable? I'm going to make it easy on you, General. Your suit is both unwelcome and unsought. I will escort your little party around tomorrow, as much as it is a waste of my goddamn time, as much as I am so fucking tired because I have been out these last four days putting down a woman who was nothing but a vicious snake, but after this, I never want to see you again. And if I find out you had anything at all to do with Kal'Reegar tossing aside Tali like she was yesterday's socks, so help me…." Her voice trailed off, and her hand fisted at her side.

Garrus held himself stiffly, "I see. I wont bother you again. I am sorry, Lieutenant Commander. I had no idea my presence was so distasteful to you." He bowed his head sharply, and moving past her, he strode off toward the rooms he was staying.

Lizzie leaned her elbows on the low wall that overlooked the city and bowed her head. Could have handled that better, Shep. She dropped her forehead onto her clenched hands. A lot better.

Garrus was stiffly polite the following day. Solana tried to draw him into conversation but she was rebuffed several times. She cast several glances between Lizzie and her brother but could glean nothing other than things had gone terribly wrong.

The tour was tiresome. The other turians in the party wished to see the dextro-plant where Eden Prime was beginning its production of food suitable for turian and quarian consumption. Lizzie was armed, and stood apart from the party when the facility manager took them around. She ignored the glances thrown her way and refused to indulge in casual chatter.

Near the completion of the tour, Solana took a seat next to Shepard in the shuttle. She leaned over and spoke softly, "I'm sorry you could not return Garrus' feelings."

Lizzie's hands whiteknuckled on her rifle and she did not reply, staring out at the landscape whizzing past.

"He is a good man, sometimes highhanded and proud, but he is good," the girl's low voice was soft, "I should have liked to have you as family. You are brave and resourceful and powerful - more than a match for him."

Lizzie looked at her then, struggling to find something to say, "I…I'm sorry," she shook her head, "He just…" she gestured weakly.

"Is it because he is turian?" there was a little sadness in Solana's eyes, "You do not find us pleasing to look upon?"

"No! Gods!" Lizzie protested and snapped her mouth shut. She leaned her head back staring at the roof of the shuttle, "No. It was…it just wasn't meant to be."

When the tour ended, she escorted the party to the shuttle they were catching back to their ship. She nodded her head politely as each bade her farewell. Solana, for her part, clasped Lizzie briefly on the forearm and smiled. Garrus wouldn't even look at her, just ducked his head to step within and seat himself. She was watching the doors shut and seal, when she saw his head turn and her last sight of him was of bright blue eyes heavy with disappointment and pain. She opened her mouth to say something, but shut it again when she figured - what on earth could she say?