December Sixth

"What happened?" Shepard asked groggily, crawling out from under the covers she'd apparently burrowed into. She held her head as she sat up; she felt like a krogan parade was pounding through there.

"Let's just say I won't be making you eggnog again anytime soon." Garrus sat on the edge of their bed, playing with his visor.

With a smug, self-satisfied look on his face.

Uh-oh. "What did I do? You're watching it now, aren't you?" Shepard dove for him, but he scrambled up, out the bedroom door, and downstairs.

Shepard chased after him, still unsteady from the long months in bed at the hospital. "Get your ass back here!" She chased him through the kitchen, stopping only when he put the couch between them.

Still pushing buttons, he kept a close eye on her.

She knew he was just waiting for her to move, so he could counter. They were always so evenly matched in spars. What is on that visor? What did I do last night? "Garrus, when I catch you, I swear to God—" Reaching for him across the couch, she stopped, hearing what sounded like her own caterwauling voice coming out of his visor, small and tinny.

"IIII'LLLLL be HOOOOME for Chrimmas …."

Shepard paled. "What is that noise?" She already dreaded the answer.

On the other side of the couch and therefore safe, Garrus grinned at her. "Well, it's either the murdered cats brigade, or that's you singing after half a bottle of rum."

"YOOOOUUU can COOOOOUNT on MEEEEEEE …."

"Turn it off!" she shrieked. She flung herself over the couch at him, and he caught her before she could hit the ground. Her legs went around his waist as she tried to yank the visor away from him, to stop it playing.

Garrus held her away easily, and pressed a few more buttons. In a moment, it was playing back from the big speakers on the holoscreen. Shepard's own voice, at top volume and with no concern, apparently, for hitting—or holding—the right notes. Holding her tight, Garrus danced her around the room.

Blushing hard, Shepard swatted at him. "Let me down, I swear to you …." But she was laughing too much to expect him to take her seriously. Goofy, goofy bastard, she thought, wondering when was the last time she'd had this much fun.

Garrus kept dancing, swinging her around the room. "If on-leee in … my dreams …." he sang to her.