"Alright, Garrus. How much money are you about to lose?" Shepard approached warily, noticing Garrus' sour expression. "In the same thread, don't ask me for anything. You did this to yourself."

Garrus rolled his eyes, unreceptive to her joke. "Oh I'm not going to lose anything. Mr. Vega has a poor memory – probably from all the concussions. Crash any shuttles lately?"

"Laugh it up, Scars. I'm the one that made sure Dr. Eva didn't get away."

"At the expense of one of our shuttles."

James shrugged. "Couldn't have been as bad as Shepard driving the Mako."

"Hey now!" Shepard interjected defensively, wresting her hand on James' bicep. "I was a wonderful driver… I only made Wrex throw up once… after we went over that cliff."

"Be happy you weren't there, Vega." Garrus eyed her hand and shot her a quick, and typical Garrus, shit eating grin. So he knew too. Shepard pulled her hand away as if she had been burned and clenched it into a fist. "There were times were I was sure that I was never going to see Palaven again. And Krogan vomit takes several heavy duty washings to dilute the stench."

"You're a real comedian, Garrus. Now what was I called over here for?"

"Remember the first brute we ran into on Palaven?" James waited for Shepard to nod before continuing. "Garrus here thinks he made the kill shot but I'm pretty convinced it was me."

That was why she was over here? That was more than a year ago and they had held on to that information? Sometimes her friends could be idiots. They were all amazing in their own respective fields but damn they could be really stupid if they put their minds to it. She shook her head, unbelieving that they were fighting over this.

"I thought you were making bets."

"Nah, just a few discrepancies in the stories we've been telling everyone. Figured you'd remember how this one went down," Garrus offered. "Besides, James owes me quite a bit of money from all the poker games we played. He can't afford to bet against me right now."

"Still convinced that visor helped you cheat, Birdman."

"Ouch. That hurts my feelings James. Don't reduce our conversations to name calling just because you know I'm right."

"You two are ridiculous," she laughed.

The three of them together reminded her of all the time they'd spent joking together when they'd gone out on missions. They were a pretty good match for one another. Garrus took the high ground with his sniper rifle, James took the middle with the assault rifle, and Shepard got right up in the front to fire off biotic attacks. Back then they'd told jokes to cut through the tension of war: seeing bodies strewn around them, distant screams of the innocent, the heat radiating from a far-off Reaper beam. Now, these jokes were simply for the pleasure of smiling and laughing. It was strange to be in such a relaxed environment with the two of them but it was a nice change of pace. Shepard was once again overwhelmed by how much had changed in just a year, how much their lives had permanently changed because of one decision she'd made.

"Shepard?" Garrus looked at her as if she were a wounded animal. "Everything alright?"

Shepard refocused her attention to her friends. "Yeah, sorry. I was just remembering how I killed that brute."

"No way, Lola!" James crossed his arms. "You didn't."

"I did. I distinctly remember you were reloading your rifle," she narrowed her eyes at James, "and Garrus you were too busy shouting at James. You left the door wide open so I swooped in and fired off a few rounds and a reave."

The two former teammates looked at each other as if someone had just taken off the rose-colored glasses that they saw their war stories through. James's mouth was slightly open, eyebrows knitted together over chocolate eyes as his mind put together the correct memories. Garrus' mandibles fluttered in surprise, no doubt putting the same pieces of the puzzle together. It was adorable. She hadn't meant to steal their thunder, to ruin what was apparently a wonderful story, but she really wished she could have a framed photo of their expressions.

"Another drink, Commander?" A young waiter held out a tray for her now-empty glass.

"No, thanks." James responded automatically. He realized that he hadn't been the one asked and grimaced when he noticed the expression on Shepard's face. "Sorry."

The waiter hadn't noticed the misunderstanding, and reached for the glass. "What can I get you?"

"I'm alright. Thank you, though." Shepard nodded to the boy, happy to be gone with the condensation heavy glass.

"Well as much as I'd love to stay and hear the awkward conversation that is bound to happen," Garrus cleared his throat as he began to walk away, "I'm being waved down by the Primarch. Excuse me."

James looked down to her. "Wanna dance?"

"James. You've seen my dancing skills. They're almost as bad as my Mako driving skills. I could accidentally kill you out there."

"I could teach you, you know. You'd be a quick study."

She chose not to respond to his offer. The last thing she needed was people staring at her as she focused on not tripping and dying on the dance floor. Even the slow tempo string pieces they were playing now could prove to be fatal ammunition when paired with her lack of grace. The idea of being that close to James wasn't even enough of an incentive to learn. She had no doubt that he would ask her a few more times throughout the night. James was going to treat this like a game, the persistent and beautiful fool.

"I'm going to get some fresh air," Shepard announced after a few seconds of silence. Garrus was right - this was awkward.

James followed her closely. "I'll join you."