Oh, hi. I have been slow posting this story because I've been slow writing this story. Sorry. I hope you're still enjoying it. This chapter has a joke/true story from my pop's police officer days, so I hope you get a kick out of that. Also in this chapter, Garrus gets laid. Yay Garrus. Remember! Every time you comment you are entered into a drawing to win tickets to Blasto 2: Revenge of the Tentacle.

Ch. 16

There used to be this great café in the Tayseri Ward called Common Grounds. They served a wide variety of hot drinks and pastries from every end of the universe, including ganiae, the turian version coffee. Best damn ganiae on the Citadel; thick and full of grit that would melt on your tongue, sweet as nectar, and the color of Pavalen beach sand. The doughnuts were always stale by the time their patrol took them to that end of the Ward, but the cute barista never failed to have a fresh pot waiting every time Garrus and his then partner Aculeo made their daily visit towards the end of their shift.

There was this one time the pair of them sat enjoying their ganiae in comfortable silence at one of the bright orange booths when a hanar cautiously approached.

"This one asks forgiveness for disturbing the officers."

Garrus and Aculeo looked at the hanar, their paper cups held in mid air as the two C-Sec officers froze.

The hanar shifted from tentacle to tentacle, his bioluminescence blinking nervously. It spoke again, "This one is most apologetic, but the officers' vehicle does say 'to protect and serve…'"

Aculeo shook his head, "His side of the car says that. Mine says fuck off."

Had Garrus been sipping his drink at that moment, he would have done a memorable spit take. Instead he quickly lowered his cup, hand lifting to cover his mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter while the hanar's lights flashed with indignation.

That café was gone, now. Aculeo was killed in the Reaper attack, and the only place he could get a decent cup of ganiae these days was from a girl named Livonine.

He wasn't exactly living like a monk up on Omega. It was Omega. And he never technically stooped so low as to pay for companionship; that would put money right back into the hands of the people he was trying to take down. But he wasn't above flirting or blowing off steam should the opportunity arise. And Livonine wasn't anything serious. The terms were pretty simple, casual, and free of any kind of definition. Two adults with needs. She made good ganiae, and he was good at opening jars, upgrading her door locks, things like that. It was an arrangement that worked for the both of them.

Garrus wasn't even sure he could call her a friend. They met up two or three times a month at the most. She didn't know much about him, and he thought she worked as a mechanic. She talked about vehicles sometimes, so that was a safe assumption. He didn't go to her place and pour out his heart, bemoaning the heavy weight of leadership. She didn't gripe about her kids (if she had any) or any exes. Most conversations were brief and didn't go far beyond pleasantries, jokes, and pop culture references. Truth be told, she wasn't much to look at with her narrow hips and short legs, but she was funny and bright and a welcome escape that was badly needed every so often.

He lay in comfortable silence in the dim light of her place, eyes half closed, her head in the crook of his arm. "You need anything?" he asked at last, his voice lazy, fingers stroking her frill. "You okay on credits?"

"Mm-hmm," Livonine lifted her head to look up at him. She leaned up on an elbow, looking over her shoulder at the clock on the bedside table, eyes squinted. "What time is it?"

"Half past nine." His head tilted a little to one side as he watched her move, then stretch her arms above her head, mandibles shuddering against her cheeks with a yawn. He caught a glint on her chest, and reached a finger out to touch a small green stone on a chain, resting between the ridges of her plastron. "What's this?"

"Amber," she murmured. "You never noticed that?" She arched a brow at him as he shook his head. She rolled onto her stomach, lifting the charm for him to see. "Every woman should have one precious pretty thing. This," she twirled it on the end of the chain, "is green amber. Hundreds of thousands of years old."

"Pretty."

"More than pretty, it was the lifeblood of a living thing. Some ancient plant, growing in the virgin Palaven sunshine, breathing clean air in wide open spaces. Somehow, it got hurt, it bled, and it died. And this is all that's left. But it left proof that it lived, hundreds of thousands of years later, I know that it was there."

"So you're wearing a tree scab."

Livonine smirked at him, rolling her eyes. "Last time I try to get poetic on you."

"Good," Garrus said playfully, leaning over to rest his forehead against hers, "Because you are terrible at it." He slapped her thigh lightly and sat up, sliding out from under the covers, "I have to go."

She watched him over a shoulder, then frowned, rolling over and sitting up, legs folding under her, "Garrus."

"Hm?" he sat on the edge of the bed, sliding one leg into his pants.

"I'm leaving Omega."

His immediate emotional reaction to this news was something unexpected. He didn't want her to go. Garrus felt a sudden gripping pang of possessiveness. Sure, he could talk about exactly what this was and wasn't between them until he was blue in the face, but the sudden idea that she wasn't going to be here in this room, in this apartment… it upset him. Garrus' jaw flexed as his mind worked through the sudden feelings in silence.

"You've been telling me forever to get the hell out of here," Livonine was saying.

Garrus finally nodded, standing and fastening his pants closed, "I have been. And I'm glad you are. I am. You're too good for this place." I've been working hard to make this place worthy of people like you, but I'm not working fast enough.

Livonine watched him closely; his body language was suddenly rigid and robotic to disguise the sudden surprising conflict inside. "I got a job. I saw this posting on the extranet, and I applied, and they hired me. It's a mining company on Dobrovolski. Altai Mineral Works. Mechanic work." She was silent a beat, eyes following him across the room as he finished dressing. "They're hiring security, too."

Garrus paused, and looked back at her. His jaw flexed again, and he shook his head, pulling on his gloves. "I can't. I can't leave Omega."

She sighed, "I would have called and told you, but I don't have your number,"

"It's fine, Livonine."

"And I'm leaving the end of next week."

"Livonine, it's fine." He stepped towards her, resting his hands on her shoulders, leaning to settle his forehead against hers again. "This is a good thing. You deserve every happiness. And you aren't going to find it here."

"Garrus…" Her light fingers found the sides of his neck, stroking lightly. She exhaled warm air against his face, before tipping her head back, looking up at him. "Take care of yourself, okay? Promise."

"I promise," he said, voice low. He stepped back, letting her hands fall from his neck. He silently collected his guns from her dresser and made his way to the door. "Have a safe trip, kiddo. Good luck." Without another word or backwards glance he was gone, closing the door behind him.