Very Special Note: I've recently (7-18-2011) posted a chronological ordering of the fragments in this fic. That posting is merely for convenience of reading. I will still be working haphazardly and posting to this fragment fic first and foremost...and that fic may occasionally be removed and reposted as chapter ordering changes. So, for those of you following this fic, please continue to do so. Thank you all so much!

Note: All standard disclaimers still apply. Although I don't own the characters or universe, I do work hard on my little stories. Please don't print or repost without my knowledge. Thanks. And thanks again to all the people who've taken time to encourage me by adding me or my story to favorites. And, most especially, thanks to those few who've written reviews. I welcome your interest, thoughts, and ideas-even constructive criticism. Your support is always appreciated, and often instrumental to maintaining the inspiration necessary to develop a story.

Chapter-Specific Notes: While this idea is mine, it is not uniquely mine. I know I've seen it in at least a fic or two before now. My kudos to the authors with a reminders that great minds think alike and imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Also, this scene was intended to be longer when I started writing, but then I reached an end line that was too good to pass up. As far as placement goes, I haven't quite decided. It might be on the shuttle back from Horizon, which in case it would follow Chapter 16: Now and Then but precede Chapters 2 and 3: Half-Spoken Words and The Continuous Thread OR (and I'm leaning toward this) it would come later, around the time a certain letter shows up in Shepard's inbox, which would place it after all the aforementioned chapters, previous to Chapter 7: The Right Regrets. If you have thoughts about this-or anything else-let me know.

"Kaidan thinks...I'm a zombie," she said, struck by the sudden urge to giggle.

"Zombie?" Garrus repeated, perplexed. The plates on his forehead spread out slightly, then pulled in tight until they overlapped. "Like in those movies Joker was always trying to get us to watch?"

"Not exactly," Shepard said slowly, "though that might actually make more sense. I mean, those zombies were actually dead." And so was I.

"They were also mindless," Garrus objected, shifting slightly. His mandibles were fluttering in a way that made her think he was feeling agitated. She didn't feel exactly calm herself.

"Yeah, like husks...or thorian creepers. In fact, the creepers were why Joker wanted us to watch the movies, remember?"

"The sounds they made were very similar," Garrus allowed, "and so was the way they moved. Creepers, zombies, husks...not very coordinated. You on the other hand..." he paused, rocking his weight back and tilting his head to one side to assess her. "If anything, I think your sniping skills may have improved." He shook his head, mandibles flaring wide in a smirk of supreme satisfaction, and slapped his gloved hands against his armored thighs. "If anyone had asked me ahead of time, I'd have told them that wasn't possible-you were already the best."

Shepard smirked, too. "I make a career out of performing the impossible, you know."

Garrus groaned. "Don't remind me."

"Old military jargon," Shepard clarified. "A zombie is a dumb soldier, especially one conscripted into service."

"Dumb isn't the word I'd use to describe you, Shepard," Garrus said dryly. "Conscripted, on the other hand...sounds accurate enough for the current conditions."

"Dead on target," she said flatly.

"Doesn't really add up, though. If Alenko knew-"

"I'd say it was fairly obvious," Shepard sighed. "But, obvious aside, he doesn't."

Garrus blinked. "Uh, Shepard, aren't you the one who said..."

"He thinks I'm a zombie," Shepard repeated.

"Doesn't that seem..."

"A little contradictory?"

Garrus nodded.

"Have I ever mentioned...a common human aphorism for death is sleep?"

"Shepard, why the in names of all the spirits can't you just say what you mean?"

Shepard shrugged. "I could."

"But?"

"It would be boring...and you know why."

"Hearing isn't knowing?"

"Hit it in one. And who taught you that?"

"Fine." Garrus huffed. "Point taken. You win. Can we get back to this whole rigmarole about you being undead?"

"A zombie. Well...I guess I'm undead, too...but I'd rather not think about that, if you don't mind," she said primly. If they'd been talking about anything else, he might have found it funny. "We were discussing zombies...different kinds."

"I never would have signed on with you if I knew it would be like going back to school to study xenolinguistics."

"With a side of xenobiology-for balance," Shepard specified, quirking an eyebrow at him.

Garrus snorted. "Spirits preserve us. So...you're telling me a zombie is someone who was dead...and death is like sleep..." he murmured to himself, his eyelids drifting a bit. Arguing with Shepard was oddly comforting...relaxing, even...and it had been a damned hard, long day.

He jerked upright, thoughts of sleep vanquished. "You're telling me Alenko thinks you're a sleeper agent?"

Shepard nodded.

"He thinks..." Garrus trailed off, yanking at the cowl of his chestplate in... agitation...frustration...indignation... "you're a sleeper agent," he said again, giving up on his brief attempt to describe Alenko's thought process any more clearly than that.

Shepard rolled her shoulder, rubbing at the back of her neck as if erasing the last traces of the teasing teacher she'd just been. "That I faked my death and hid out for two years because I wanted to work Cerberus." She nodded again, grimly. "That's what I'm saying, yes. Exactly."

"You..."

can't be serious. The words formed in his mind, sure and immediate, but their meanings were so twisted, so complex and complicated, they tied his tongue in knots. The most central meaning, the one he wanted to hear, to think, to feel, to believe was easy:

would never do that. Circumstances might make her liar, but they would never make her dishonest. Whatever lies she might be forced to tell, Shepard would never walk away from her squad. Unless she was forced by circumstances...or...unless it was for their own good. And, considering what she knew about Cerberus, well, the only way she'd consider them good was...if the alternative was worse.

"Or," Shepard added, realization flaring in her eyes as if her own thoughts had been moving close in formation with his, "because I was working for Cerberus already."

would never turn your back on the Council or the Alliance. Even if the Council was dead. Dead because they'd refused to listen to her. Dead because she'd listened to him. But dead. And the new Council was just like the Alliance. Hell, for all intents and purposes, it might as well be the Alliance. And the Alliance had given her a nice pat on the head and shipped her into geth territory as quickly as they could.

Well, shit. Alenko's attitude was beginning to make sense. And that was the last thing Garrus wanted... because Alenko was wrong.

Garrus snarled.

"My thoughts exactly," Shepard said a bit weakly. She looked...well, Garrus hadn't seen a human look that way since the flu had hit the SR1.

Garrus reached out and cupped her head in his hand, forcing it down toward her knees. Shepard complied, yielding to the pressure of his touch without a fight, and sucked in a couple of deep breaths.

"You weren't," Garrus said sharply. It wasn't a question.

He'd seen her face...in those numerous labs. She'd been just as surprised as he had, taking potshots at those creepers and rachni.

He'd seen her face when they'd found Kohaku...

And her seen her face on Ontarom, waiting on the drop ship to pick her friend Toombs and that doctor he'd taken captive. She hadn't been with Cerberus then. He'd stake his life on it. By the blazing spirits, he already had...not that he would have had much of a life to stake if she hadn't come running to his rescue.

Shepard shook her head, her hair rubbing against his palm so that he could feel the silky glide of it through his glove. "Damn skippy...But," she added reluctantly, her voice a bit muffled, "I have to admit, the case is pretty freaking compelling."

"Circumstantial," Garrus muttered darkly, fighting the urge to growl again.

Shepard sucked in a couple more breaths. He moved his hand in instinctive response, stroking his fingers along the curve of her skull. She sighed. He thought there was something gratified about the sound, something content.

"Hey, Garrus, I was declared dead, right? Not missing-in-action?"

Garrus pulled his mandibles tight against his chin, thinking. It wasn't a time he liked to remember. "You were listed as missing-in-action..." he said slowly... "but...I think...your status was changed after a couple of days. Everyone assumed that even if you'd survived being spaced, you'd have run out of air or hit atmo by then..." he added apologetically.

"I did both in the first five minutes," Shepard said grimly.

Shepard gave a slight grunt that might have indicated discomfort, and shifted slightly next to him. "Hey, buddy, ease up there a bit," she said softly. Garrus glanced down in surprise and saw he'd tightened his talons into a fist without thinking, drawing strands of her hair taunt in the process. He pulled his hand away, embarrassed.

Shepard sat up. Overall, she looked liked her self again. Her face was a bit flushed, but with her pale human skin that wasn't too uncommon.

"There was a memorial service," Garrus said, folding his talons in his lap, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her...just to confirm...she was real. She was sitting there. With him.

"I...I'm not sure what to say," Shepard said. She gave an awkward cough.

"Good," Garrus said as sardonically as he could manage. "Then we don't have to talk about it."