AN-I've had this one on the backburner for too long, but hopefully this update will make up for it. I've got the next part half-done, so there will be more where this came from soon!

Repairs were already underway and the keepers moved about the ruined sections of the Citadel, building and integrating construction done by the workers hired on by the Council. Shepard led her crew through throngs of wide-eyed people toward the temporary Council hall at a hotel near the embassies. She, along with the whole ground team, had been summoned for a debriefing and to try and piece together exactly what had happened during the last battle between Saren and Sovereign. Her face was stony and determined as the crowds parted before her wearing looks of wariness and awe. The fact that she looked ready to blow a hole in the first person who got in her way was only exacerbated by the red hulking krogan shadowing her.

"Any ideas yet on what you're going to say?" Wrex asked in a low voice to avoid being overheard by the hovering camera drones.

"I'm going to lay it all out as diplomatically as I can." He grumbled, but she continued, "At first. I'm not above shoving their noses in it if they refuse to listen."

"How about giving them a good thrashing?" He grinned deviously. "Diplomacy always goes faster when there are fists involved."

"As satisfying as it would be to smack Valern around a little, that could prove counter-productive."

"Tell you what—when you're done, if she decides to stick to her guns and keep acting like the galaxy is safe as houses while the Reapers bear down on us, you hold her down and I'll smack her for you."

She ducked her head and smiled. It was the first time she'd smiled since they'd arrived at the Citadel and it really started to sink in—what they were facing, and how bloody the future would be if they didn't find a way to stop the impending invasion. "Deal."

They were met by a small group of C-Sec officers, and Garrus greeted each of them by name. The one he'd called Artaeus, a turian with a thin purple stripe bisecting his face, led the way into the chamber, which was really just a converted ballroom in one of the more posh hotels that had survived the battle intact. Tevos, Sparatus, and Valern were already there along with Anderson, who shook her hand and nodded. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked like he'd aged about ten years since she'd last seen him only a week ago.

"Shepard," Sparatus began, his hands clasped loosely behind his back, "glad you could join us. We've been trying to put together a picture of the events on the ground. We have all seen your official report, but were hoping you could tell us again, in your own words."

Shepard cleared her throat, looked down at her feet to collect her thoughts, then began speaking. She talked for a long time, outlining everything that happened—the events leading up to the attack as well as the invasion of the geth and Saren's attempt to take over the Citadel and usher in the Reaper invasion. Once she mentioned the word "Reaper", though, Wrex saw the Councilors exchange furtive glances and their faces clouded with doubt. They had already decided not to believe her. Judging from how they'd reacted over the comm to the same news she was delivering here, they all should have known that the Council wouldn't listen. At one point, Joker had quipped that it would take a Reaper sitting on their heads to convince them of the truth, but evidently even that wouldn't be enough.

"The implants Saren had accepted from Sovereign activated and . . ." She swallowed hard before going on, ". . . burned him up from the inside. He was screaming, and when he stopped there was nothing left of him but a metal skeleton. He moved like one of those geth hoppers, like a spider. He was so fast . . ."

"Shepard," Anderson murmured, shooting her a sidelong glance. She straightened up again and continued with a more firm voice.

"By the time we finally put him down, Sovereign was falling and we only just made it out of the way in time before one of its legs came crashing through the window. That was when Anderson came in and helped us out of the wreckage."

"You, the quarian, and the krogan?" Valern asked.

"Tali and Wrex, yes."

Sparatus shook his head. "You certainly keep strange company, Shepard. Spectres have the authority to requisition and commandeer the necessary forces to complete their assignments, but I don't think anyone has ever had a more . . . varied crew."

Shepard's eyes darkened and she leaned over the pedestal. "Each and every member of my crew is a valuable asset to my team. If others were too squeamish to pull resources from less popular sources, then it's their loss. I could never have pulled this off without them." Her words made the whole crew stand a little straighter, made them feel a little stronger.

"Duly noted," Tevos said, raising her hands placatingly. "Getting back to the business at hand, I cannot bring myself to believe your assertion that this whole atrocity—Saren's betrayal, raising a geth army, attacking the Citadel—was perpetrated by the Reapers. They are legends, myths, nothing more."

"But you saw Sovereign!" Shepard said, pounding her fist on the podium. "It was right there, burning through those ships like they were tissue paper. If it wasn't a Reaper, what do you think it was?"

"You said that Saren moved like a geth when he was—" Sparatus stopped, unsure how to describe Saren's state at that point.

"When he was dead," Shepard supplied. "He was fully under Sovereign's control by then."

"At any rate, you said he moved like a geth. Who's to say that wasn't what Sovereign was? Just a very elaborate piece of geth technology?"

"The geth have never built anything like that," Tali said, speaking from the back. When everyone turned to look at her, she twisted her fingers together and shuffled nervously, but continued with a nod from Shepard. "I've been studying the geth for a long time, and so has my father. None of us can be completely sure of what they're doing beyond the Veil, but if they had technology like what Sovereign had, my people would have seen evidence of it by now."

"She's right," Shepard said. "The quarians would have seen—"

"The Migrant Fleet is famous for playing things very close to the vest," Valern interrupted and Wrex glared at her. "Your people could have known that the geth's technology was evolving for years, and would never have told us."

"It wasn't the geth," Shepard insisted. "It wasn't. I've spent months fighting them, and if they were slinging Reaper-grade tech I'd have seen it. The geth were just pawns, like Saren, like Benezia. Like the rachni during the wars, like the husks on Eden Prime. It all boils down to the Reapers, and sooner or later you're going to have to face the facts—they are coming, and they are coming soon." She pointed at each Councilor in turn and they regarded her with something akin to the pity reserved for the delusional. "The Protheans knew them for what they are and they were wiped out, to a man. They fought so hard with weapons and tech we can only dream of, and they all died. If we don't start preparing now—"

"Thank you, Shepard," Valern said, interrupting again. Wrex wondered how fast he could get her in a half-Nelson and let Shepard get in one good hit before anyone stopped him. "That will be all. Please stay on the station for the time being; we may need to confer with you again about some of the details in your report."

Shepard looked like she wanted to protest, but she just leaned on the podium and shook her head in frustration. "I will. I assume you've arranged for accommodations for me and my team?"

"Yes," Tevos said, "this hotel has been gracious enough to clear the top floor for your use. The front desk has been instructed to retrieve your belongings from the Normandy as soon as you give the word. Thank you again, Commander." The asari gave her a nod that seemed more friendly than the others, and Shepard thought for a fleeting moment that she might be able to convince her, at least, given the time.

Anderson turned to Shepard and sighed. "For what it's worth, I believe you. I've seen what the geth can do, and there's no way they're capable of the wholesale destruction that happened here."

"Thank you, sir. That means a lot."

"I'll keep fighting the good fight here, as long as you keep doing it out there. We need to be as ready as we can, no matter what the Council says. You've been good at garnering support from non-Council races," he said, going thoughtful. "The batarians won't want to get involved, but well send along a warning anyway. When the Reapers hit, our petty disputes aren't going to matter anymore."

"Maybe we could talk to the volus and elcor ambassadors, get them on board," Shepard added.

Anderson nodded. "The hanar won't be much help, but I've heard from some of my sources that they train drell assassins on Kahje. Might be worth looking into. You and Tali could convince the quarians, hopefully, and—"

"And the krogan will be ready," Wrex said, stepping forward. Anderson, to his enormous credit, didn't back down from him. "You can count on it. This kind of war is what we live for."

"Well, all right," Anderson said, extending a hand. Wrex stared at it for a beat before shaking it. "Udina and I will brainstorm about this and run some ideas by you, Shepard. Maybe, if we can get enough of them together, we might have the forces we need to survive the initial onslaught of the invasion."

"I hope so," Shepard said, and saluted him. He snapped off a salute in return and dismissed them. Wrex and Liara fell into step with her as they made their way to the elevators.

"Do you really think that if we get the non-Council races together we can hold off the Reapers?" Liara asked.

"Maybe, until the others see the threat for what it is." She sounded confident enough, but Wrex could see the truth of what she thought in her eyes, because he was thinking it, too. "If we're going to make a strong stand, we're going to need the krogan."

"Like I said, I'll take care of it," Wrex said. "We can talk about that later, though."

"Indeed," Shepard said. "We're all tired. We'll meet up again tomorrow morning in the lobby, maybe go out for breakfast? My treat."

"Sounds like a plan," Kaidan said, and hit the button for their floor. The young biotic had calmed down after catching them in the alleyway outside the bar, and had even gone so far as to apologize to Wrex for acting like an ass. He told him to take that apology to Shepard, and thought he must have done so because she'd stopped death-staring at him when she passed him in the halls.

There were a dozen rooms at the top of the hotel and Shepard directed each of the crew where she needed them, always thinking of the tactical advantages. She claimed the room closest to the elevator and, when everyone else had closed their respective doors, informed Wrex that he would be bunking with her. He was more pleased than he wanted to be with the arrangement and followed her into the room with high hopes, only to stand there with his hand on the light switch while Shepard stormed over to the wall and slammed her fist into it with a choked cry. There was a thin streak of blood left on the wallpaper when she took her hand away, but she didn't seem to notice that she'd split the skin on two of her knuckles.

"Goddamn them. Sons of bitches, all of them, up there in their ivory tower with their thumbs up their butts while their people are hung out in the wind. Just . . . fuck!" She raked her fingers harshly through her hair and kept reaching for her gun, but had nothing to shoot at. With another grunt that sounded more like a sob than an angry shout, she drove her fist into the wall again and made a print of her fingers in blood. Before she could do it again, Wrex went over and grabbed her shoulder. She spun around, eyes wide, like she'd forgotten he was there, then sighed and bowed her head. "God dammit, Wrex."

"I know, but what did you expect? We both saw this coming a mile away."

"You know what the worst part of it is?" she asked. "On some level, I understand where they're coming from. If I hadn't seen Vigil on Ilos, or talked to Sovereign on Virmire, I might not believe in the Reapers, either. We're trying to sell the idea that the boogeyman is real, and that's a lot to swallow all at once without truckloads of hard evidence."

"What more hard evidence could we give them?" Wrex asked, and brought her hand up to examine the broken skin. Blood covered the back of her hand and had dripped down her fingers, but she probably hadn't broken anything. "You said it yourself, Sovereign was right outside these windows, cutting through dreadnoughts like it was nothing. You were right about Saren, you were right about what he was planning, and you were right about him and his geth invading the Citadel. Eventually, they'll have to see that you're right about the Reapers, too."

"I just hope they see it before it's too late for it to matter." She started to go into the bathroom to run some water over her hand, but Wrex surprised her by licking the blood off with his wide, rough tongue. She'd seen him do the same to himself, and he'd told her then that krogan are taught from birth not to waste resources. Blood was a valuable resource, particularly on long missions in the waste with little to no water. His tongue stung a little, but he was careful and when she was clean, he rubbed medigel onto her wounds.

"Better?" he asked, and she knew he wasn't talking about her busted knuckles. She exhaled heavily and nodded. "Good. Now, I'm assuming that you're not going to be able to sleep, insomniac that you are, so what do you say we go out somewhere?"

"You want to go hit a bar or something?"

Wrex grinned. "You read my mind."

(Thirty minutes later . . .)

"You were right!" Shepard hollered, then ducked as a barstool went flying over her head. "This is way more fun than what I had planned."

"See?" Wrex shouted back. The guy he was fighting managed to land a decent blow to the side of his face, which the krogan countered with a head butt that sent the poor man sprawling to the floor. "Told you." Two more guys came out of nowhere and one of them tried to jump up and grab Wrex's hump. He roared and threw him off, sending him sliding over the bar and into a rack of bottles, and the other one quickly gave up and fled when he saw the mirthful gleam in his red eyes.

Shepard, light on her feet despite having downed two beers while waiting for the opportune moment to pick a fight, threw a quick one-two punch that had her opponent reeling. The turian, who was much larger than she was but twice as drunk, stumbled over his fallen buddy and collapsed in a heap. "We should do this more often. You really-oof!-know how to work off stress!"

The area around them was momentarily clear while the other patrons caught their second wind, and Wrex leaned back to Shepard's ear and muttered, "I know a few other stress relief techniques I think you'll like even better."

"Ooooh, I like the sound of that." The bartender, having dug his balls out of his purse, popped up from behind the counter and leveled a pistol at Shepard, who threw her hands up in exasperation. "Now, is that fair? Here we are, having a good fight, when you decide to throw a wrench in the works. And look at this thing!" Three lightning-fast moves later and the bartender was disarmed and staring at his now-empty hands. She reached in and disabled the firing mechanism, then held up the offending weapon with a disbelieving smirk on her face. "What a piece of shit. You couldn't even hurt my feelings with this thing." Wrex burst out laughing just as they heard the whine of a C-Sec siren coming closer.

"I think that's our exit cue, Shepard." He started to drag her out of the front door, but two armed officers burst into the bar searching for them. Without taking the time to think about it, Shepard grabbed his hand and they took off for the storerooms. They wove through stacks of liquor crates and plowed through the back door just as the officers came into the room. Shepard vaulted over a railing with Wrex hot on her heels and they ducked into a darkened alcove, backing in as far as they could into the shadows. Shepard held a hand over his mouth (completely unnecessarily, but he wasn't about to complain) and they waited until the officers passed them by before she looked up at him with a wide grin.

"I haven't had this much fun in years," she whispered. She went over thoughtful and frowned. "You know, it's just occurred to me that my idea of a good night involves bar fights and getting chased by the cops into a dark alley."

"What's wrong with that?" Wrex asked, trying his best to whisper back. "We're alone . . . with no one else around . . . in a dark alley." He pressed her back against the wall and shoved his armored thigh between her legs, drawing a gasp from her. "Wanna?"

"Hell yeah."

"Then take those pants off, Commander."

As he fumbled with the catches of his armor, he knew that this kind of behavior was completely unlike him. Here he was, acting like a fledgling fresh from the Rite, on the Citadel of all places, with a human. About to have semi-public sex with said human. While hiding from the police. The voices of his ancestors chided him from inside his head, asking him just what the hell he thought he was doing, and he had no answer. Something about Shepard brought this out in him, this adolescent recklessness, and he was surprised by how good it felt to let his guard down just a little.

He finally got his codpiece off and tossed it on top of Shepard's boots and pants where they lay discarded in the corner. Wrex hoisted her up by her thighs and she hooked her knees over his hips, then reached down between them to get him into position.

"Don't hold back," she said, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He took her at her word and slid into her all at once and she threw her head back with her mouth open in a silent scream, her body fighting to adjust to him. He didn't wait for her go-ahead, either, just pinned her back against the wall and fucked her hard. He tried to muffle the low groans that rode the end of every breath, but he was too turned on by everything to care much if anyone heard.

Her hips rocked in time with his and she pressed her forehead against his brow plate, eyes closed. When she gasped out his name as she hit her peak and came, Wrex dragged his hands up her back under her shirt, needing to feel her bare skin, and he accidentally scratched her when his fingers clamped down into fists and he spilled inside her.

When he opened his eyes again, breathing hard and enjoying the momentary quiet, he saw Shepard watching him, her green eyes heavy-lidded. She touched his face and traced the bumpy skin along his jaw, the edge of his mouth, the deep scars that cut into his chin. Her gaze met his and she flushed pink, embarrassed at having been caught thinking . . . whatever it was she was thinking.

Shepard lowered herself to the ground and grabbed her underwear, using it to clean herself up as best she could. She threw them in the trash afterward and once they'd both gotten dressed again, she and Wrex went back to the hotel. They were quiet the whole trip there, each of them lost in their own musings about what, exactly, had just changed while they hadn't been looking. Shepard let him have the shower first, and he was about halfway done when she called through the door.

"Hey, mind if I come in for a minute?"

"Sure. What, you want to join me? Gotta warn you, I don't think I've got another round in me." He heard the door open and her sharp intake of breath a moment later. Wrex moved the curtain aside and saw her craning her neck around, trying to see her back in the mirror. There were two parallel scratches running across each of her shoulder blades, jagged furrows in the smooth skin. He hadn't thought he'd scratched her that hard, but he kept forgetting she was more fragile than she looked.

"I, uh, didn't mean to do that," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "There's some medigel in my pack. Go get it, and I'll put it on for you."

"No." She touched the top edge of the marks that she could reach, studying them in the foggy mirror. "I want them to scar."

Wrex didn't know what to say to that, so he just had her get into the shower with him so he could clean her back a bit to avoid infection. When they were both dried off, he immediately climbed into the bed while she did her evening necessaries. A few minutes later, she came out and stood over him. "Wrex."

"Hmmph?"

"You're taking up the entire bed."

"Mmmph." He rolled onto his side and pulled the covers back so she could get in beside him, then pulled them up to her shoulder and smoothed her hair down for good measure. Another few minutes went by and he said, "I can feel you staring at me."

"Sorry. It's just . . . you don't seem like the cuddling type, and I wasn't sure if—"

"Shepard?"

"Yeah?"

"Get your butt over here and go to sleep." She chuckled at his grumpiness and curled up against him, her back to his chest, and he put a heavy arm over her. It didn't take long for her to drift off, and Wrex cracked an eyelid to look at those scratches, the ones she said she wanted to keep, and fell asleep himself soon afterward.