A/N: I'd like to say thanks to everybody for such wonderful reviews while I've been AWOL on this fic! You guys really make this worth writing. :) I've been very preoccupied with school, my drawings, and Aikido, but I'm finally back in to the Mass Effect writing phase! I've had writer's block on this chapter forever now, but the only way to get through it is to write, it seems. And write I shall!

-CI

Those who say sunshine brings happiness has never danced in the rain.

Human proverb, a variation of which exists in all alien cultures

Earth, 1 year and 134 days ago (Joker)

I'm not the most formal guy in the world, but hey, at least I try, right? My paycheck is so big now that I don't have to worry about the expenses of a fancy-ass dinner with the upper echelon. And here's another plus side: I can walk now, thanks to my big bad new friends. It was a big moment for me when I, dressed up in some ridiculous monkey-suit, shaved, and hatless, walked over the restaurant's floor with my girl's arm in my own like some old married couple and didn't fall down.

It was sweet.

The waiter, a tall, stick-figure of a guy with balding hair and an impassive, just-walk-all-over-me face, showed us the wine list (I had to bite down a retort about the prices) and took our drink orders. I ordered a Coke, glad that they at least had one normal and cheap beverage in stock, and Abby ordered a water. The waiter walked away to get our drinks, and we were both left alone, staring around in a dimly-lit, 5-star restaurant.

"Nice place," I muttered.

"Very," Abby agreed fervently, flipping through the menu. Her golden hair was pulled back in the middle, restricting the bangs from flopping in her face as they normally did, and she wore a beautiful blue dress I never realized she had. Her face fell as she read the entrees listed. "Half of them are in French," she said.

"Hell yeah. Look at the prices. . ."

"Damn. You could buy a video-game for that steak."

"That better be a good steak."

"This one simmers on low heat for 48 hours," she muttered, aghast. "That just cooks all the flavor out of it!"

I hurried to look at the one she was looking at. I whistled, and a nearby table glanced in my direction. "Shi—I mean, darn."

It wasn't that Abby minded my cussing, but something about being in this place made me want to put a stick up my ass and use conditioner on my beard. The waiter came back bearing drinks and a basket of bread, and after assuring us that he would be back in five minutes to take our orders, left again to scrape the bread crumbs off of a table on the other side of the room.

"That is so sad," Abby whispered. "Look at how servile they all are."

I immediately began to feel uncomfortable as I looked around. "It's not a job I would want." I looked cautiously at my girl and began to wonder if this was a good idea. After all, ever since we first met she made it clear she wasn't a fancy-dinner type of girl. "Listen, if you don't want to stay we don't have to."

Her expression changed from pity to surprise at the flick of a switch, and she automatically reached out to take my hand in her's. "No, no, no, don't think that. This is wonderful, really. Thank you so much for taking me out." She smiled, and I couldn't help but smile, too. She was infectious. She gripped my hand tighter as another thought sprung in to her mind. "You can walk now!" she whispered. "This is the perfect time to celebrate."

"Yeah." I nodded, looking in to her eyes. They were a light blue, the color of a pond, and I knew that if I peered closer I'd be able to see the green ring around her pupil. "You're really hot tonight, by the way," I whispered mischievously.

She blushed. "Oh?" she asked archly. "Why, thank you very much."

Soft piano music played from hidden speakers, and small water-fountains built in to the wall glowed with a soft luminescence. "So how is the Alliance treating you?" I asked. "Really. And don't give me the same BS happy-happy stuff like you do in your emails."

"You know I can't tell you operation details in emails," she said. "I'm a positive person—therefore, you're getting happy-happy."

I snorted. "Yeah, okay. You got me there. But seriously."

She contemplated a piece of bread for a moment before sticking it into her mouth. After taking a sip of water, she sighed and said, "They're not treating me badly. I have some friends there."

I didn't mention that part of my price for working with the Illusive Man was to know where Abby was at all times. I hadn't immediately set that price out when I first took that job after the Commander died, but after we started talking and I began to realize that, you know, I had feelings for her, I started to ask for tiny updates. The Man might have thought it was strange, or not, but I didn't really care. Abby couldn't put those types of details in a written message, and neither could I. The only clues we could give each other were hints of our emotional wellbeing.

Abby hesitated before saying, "The Captain's on to something. I'm not sure what, but he's hinting we'll be in the Terminus Systems for a while on complete blackout. I won't be able to contact you as frequently."

But I'll know where you are. I'll know if you're hurt, or in danger. She was a big girl and could take care of herself, but I worried. "What do you think Sudono is on to?"

"There are rumors circulating about that a former soldier is setting up her own merc band. She's looking for some krogan warlord, except he's not a real warlord—he's some kind of. . . I don't know about this, and I fully give you permission to laugh, but I think he's a scientist."

"Oh, wow."

"Wow's right," she agreed.

I had to think about that for a moment. "Can a krogan get a scientific degree?"

"Not any that I know." She shook her head. "No way. You'd think Wrex would have taken Okeer for himself, and maybe he has. I honestly don't know much about what goes on outside my own assignments these days. Anderson is keeping us locked up tight."

"Wonder why. . . Just you, or the rest of the Fleet?"

"I haven't seen Ash in nearly a year," she said, a frown on her face. "She's making her way up the ranks now. Sent me an email the other week apologizing for being antisocial, whatever, and wants to meet up for drinks on the Citadel in two weeks, when she's next off. Lucky. I ship out a week before that."

"Wait a moment." I'd only caught one fragment of that sentence. A wolfish grin fluttered over my face. "You have a week off?"

"Surprise."

I laughed and kissed her hand. "So, since you're off for a week, you'll need a place to stay, right?"

"Yes. . . are you offering?"

"Are you accepting?"

"Sure. I kind of brought my bags in my rental car anyway."

"Uh-huh."

"I read a funny quote once, a long time ago. 'Friends call in advance, best friends walk right in and raid the fridge.'"

"Oh, come on, I thought we were past that part. Aren't we?"

She smiled, ducking her head. "If you want to be."

"You know I do. What about you? I'm not going too fast, am I?" Over a year was too slow, in my opinion, but I know that other people have their own definitions of personal space. And after eavesdropping on Shepard's conversation with Ashley about her sister Sarah palming her boyfriend's head into a tree, I wasn't taking any chances.

"No, not too fast at all," she said softly, looking up. "I want to be past that part, too."

"Oh, well, good then." There was a warm feeling in my stomach that had nothing to do with indigestion. "I, uh, really like you."

"And I really like you, too."

"Great. Now that we're all touchy-feely, is this where the first kiss comes in?"

"I do believe so."

"Great. I knew those Google searches never come out wrong."

We leaned across the table, and I was suddenly nervous. What if I bit her tongue off by accident? I made sure my elbow was nowhere near my Coke. Luckily, the table was small, and we didn't have to lean very far. Our lips touched, soft and sweet, and I detected the smell of oranges on her lips. We let go, and suddenly she started giggling like a little girl.

I snorted. "I wasn't that bad," I complained.

"No, no," she laughed. "You were really, really good."

And she leaned in for another kiss.

"There may be one slight issue with the sleeping arrangements," I said after we broke off again. "'Cos, you know, I'm kind of just one guy and I don't have very many sleepovers. But since we're passing the best friends-stage, I guess it really doesn't matter, but just, er, say if it does, alright?"

"It's a double-bed?"

"Yeah."

Her answer was an embarrassed, "I don't mind."

"Oh, well, that's good." I barked out a relieved laugh and kissed her hand. "Just had to get that out of the way, there, so you don't feel like I'm... pressuring you or anything."

"Oh, no, I'd say I really. . . like that idea."

Was the blood rushing to my face? I was feeling pretty damn red here. "Oh, good. Look, we, uh, better figure out what we're going to eat. Choose anything, it's all on me."

"I can pay for my food, don't be silly--"

"I make more than I used to. Won't even dent the paycheck, I swear."

She stared at me suspiciously. "I really don't--"

"Abby, just relax." I smiled. "Take something for free for once, okay?"

Part of me was hoping that she wouldn't order anything too expensive, though, like that $2000 bottle of wine supposedly bottled in the winter of 2009. I had to squint a bit to read the print in the menus, but eventually we both settled on what we wanted. I chose the cheapest wine on the list to celebrate our good news and the next step.

"You know, I can barely remember the last time I was off of a ship for more than three days of shore leave," she mused, sipping at the wine. "This will be interesting. I wonder what we can do."

The Illusive Man had already pinged me the day before, stating that I had a week off, too. He was doing a great job of keeping his little subjects happy. "Let's go be a normal couple," I suggested. "No Reapers, no Alliance, just you and me and whatever we think up."

"That sounds really good," said Abby. She tilted her glass in my direction. "Cheers."

The waiter returned a short while later with our food and we dug in with gusto. I was surprised I actually liked it, and Abby's looked good. There were no leftovers. During the entire meal we joked and fussed around, and I kept examining her hands and arms as she ate. They were lithe and muscular, covered with small, light-blonde hairs that blended seamlessly into her skin. There was a small scar on her left index finger and calluses on her hands. She noticed me looking. "Did my food look that good?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yeah. I'm still hungry."

"No way."

"Just kidding. I was checking out your hand. Where did you get that scar at?"

"I was attacked by a pig," she said deadpan. I blinked. "No, seriously! So me and Sarah were just walking through the woods one day and we found this pig, right? It was the biggest piggy I've ever seen, and it had this coarse black hair. . ."

She went on and on, explaining how they returned with food for the pig. She had ham, cut up into tiny cubes, and hand-fed him. It liked the ham so much it tried to take her finger with it, leaving a glossy white scar just above the middle joint.

"You fed a pig ham."

"You'd be surprised what pigs eat."

"Ham."

"Yes. And a finger."

"But he never actually digested the finger."

"No. . . but he got a nice taste."

"Did it get infected?"

"Oh, please, I never get sick."

"Lucky," I muttered.

But I could walk her to her car, and I loved it. With one arm over her shoulder, and her arm wrapped around my waist, I felt like a normal person for once in my life. It was a feeling I'd only been able to get in the cockpit, and now? Now, I think I could take a fall without breaking something. I felt stronger, physically and mentally. I wore a lighter, more resistant form a leg-braces underneath my pants, but I could barely feel them.

The Illusive Man did a great job of keeping his subjects happy. I wasn't going to overly-thank him, though. Better that he didn't know what it meant to me, just to be safe.

I never forgot about Shepard, though, not for one second. It was his sacrifice that enabled me to do this, to be able to walk and hold my girl like just another guy. She pressed her soft body against mine, hugging me before she got in her car with a promise to follow me home since she didn't know where I lived. She slipped off the dressy shoes as soon as she was in, going barefoot. I could suppress the smile on my face and limped back to my own vehicle.

Shepard was a great guy. And even if we weren't much further along to finding the Reapers than we were when I joined Cerberus, I knew we'd find something sooner or later. And now I had two things to fight for—Shepard and Abby. It was a good feeling.

Okay, being able to walk made me more touchy-feely than usual, and it showed as soon as I got in to the car. My throat constricted and I felt my tongue swell up. A few dry swallows took care of it, and I led Abby to my apartment.

She insisted on carrying her one small bag herself, and I had to allow it. Somehow I didn't think walking up the stairs with a heavy object would be the best way to test out my bone reinforcements. We laughed and joked on the way up, and she kissed me again as I opened up the door.

"Ah, home sweet home," I said sarcastically, shuffling in. "Come on, I'll make some hot chocolate."

I took longer than necessary making the stuff, listening to her explore my small little abode. When I heard her come back into the living room, I set her mug in front of her and sat down. "It's really good," she said, taking a long drought. "Thank you very much."

"Well, you are very welcome," I said. We looked at each other once and she started giggling again. "Why do you keep doing that?" I asked, concerned. "What, do I have something in my beard?"

"No, it's not that," she said, still smiling. She leaned close and whispered, "I've never had a boyfriend before. It's a new experience."

"Oh, well. . ."

She barked out a laugh. "So I'm pretty excited."

I perked up. "Oh yeah?"

"Very," she assured me.

I was beginning to like the sound of this. "So, you're my girlfriend now."

"And you're my boyfriend."

I was really liking the sound of this. "Now that we've established that. . ."

"Now that we've established that. . ."

"What do we do now?"

"We could play a board game," she suggested.

"We could. . ."

"Or. . ."

"Or. . ."

"Or we could do something else," she said lightly. She finished her hot chocolate. "I'm going to go take a shower. Do you mind?"

Did I mind? "Hell no. Make yourself comfortable."

"Thanks," she said, and got up. Grabbing her bag, she disappeared into my room, and I was left to sit back and contemplate the running water, very bad thoughts running through my mind.

Abruptly, I got up and entered the bedroom, removing my monkey-suit and changing into a pair of slacks. I took off the leg braces and set them in the corner, next to my crutches. . . and I waited. The door was open a tiny crack to let the steam out. The water soon shut off and I heard her get out of the shower, her wet footsteps on the floor. There was a sound of a zippered bag opening, and I heard the rustle of cloth. "Can you believe it's nearly midnight?" she asked, opening the door so she could see me.

She was dressed in and old pair sweatpants and a tanktop, her semi-wet hair fanning out down her back and over her shoulders. "You look good," I commented, before I could help myself.

She snorted, mopped up the water with her towel, and crawled into bed. "Thank you," she said.

"You don't have to keep thanking me for the compliments, you know. You're hot. Deal with it."

"It's called manners, dear Joker," she teased. "Come on, let's go to sleep. I have an idea for what we can do tomorrow."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, but it will involve getting up early. . ."

"Oh damn, an early assignment."

"Which means it's time for shut-eye. Come on, pilot, shift it."

I grumbled as I got under the blankets with her. This was very suggestive, and I had to reign it in fast before I pulled anything stupid. "Give me a hint," I whispered, wrapping my arms around her.

She was smiling in a contented sort of way, a blush spreading on her cheeks as she snuggled closer. "You'll see," she said.

"Hey, guess what," I said after a moment.

"What?"

"I really, really like you."

"Oh, that's good," she said, "because I really like you, too."

I wasn't sure why I was about to say this, but I suddenly felt like I wanted—no, needed—her to know. "Look, you know what I'm doing now is a big secret, right?"

"I think I guessed as much," she said, opening her eyes and tilting her head up to look at me calmly. "And I know who you're working for. I'm not going to say I agree. I mean, I know what's happened in the past with Cerberus, but I trust your judgment. I do. As long as you don't participate in the nastier aspects, that's fine. Cerberus is probably looking in to the Reapers harder than the Alliance actually is, which is not at all. You don't have to square it with me."

"How long. . .? How long have you known? Did I screw up somewhere?"

"No," she said wistfully. "I just know you. Commander Shepard saved your life, and that creates a bond between somebody that you can't really break, you know? Even though the guy is dead, you still want to honor his memory, and you just can't do that with the Alliance."

"Then why don't you quit?" I asked. "Come work with me. Please."

"I can't, Jeff," she said softly. The use of my real name surprised me. "I have to stay on the inside for a while. I need to keep an eye on Ashley."

"You haven't seen her in forever. You're not doing a great job of keeping up with her."

"I know," she muttered. "I'm trying. Ash loved the Commander a lot, and I know she's working hard, too. Until she dies or leaves, I'm going to stay in the Alliance. . . for good or worse. And I can't abandon my crew."

I sighed. I knew that feeling. "I guess you're right. I just wish it was different. The Council should be hailing us like damn heroes, not just—hanging us out to dry like this. It's wrong. It's unfair. After everything we went through--"

She put a hand on my lips. "Stop it," she said firmly. "I know it sucks right now, but we're going to find a way. Got that? We're not going to let the Reapers win. And if the Council gets in our way, we'll pull an Anderson."

"We might have to pull an Anderson on the Anderson," I muttered, disgruntled. "And he knows how to fight."

"And that's why I'll do it," she said.

We were silent for a long time. By the time I finally thought of something to say to that, she was fake-sleeping. Figuring I might as well try, I closed my eyes and tried to forget all this crap and focus on the good, like she kept telling me.

I have a girlfriend.