Attached is a List of All the Ways You've Dun Goofed, Garrus

King Saul fell on his sword when it all went wrong
And Joseph's brothers sold him down the river for a song
And Sonny Liston rubbed some tiger balm into his glove
Some things you do for money and some you do for love, love, love

-"Love Love Love," The Mountain Goats

1.

Garrus Vakarian settled down in the Normandy's main battery and kickstarted a favorite pastime of his: writing angry emails to himself that he filed away in drafts, with a program on his omni-tool that'd delete everything if his vital signs dropped to zero. Private business, after all; and if he somehow got brought back from the brink, well, there'd be a nice and clean inbox waiting for him on the other side. Not a bad deal, as far as questionable habits went.

The whole thing'd started back in C-SEC, of course. There'd been some personal growth since then, at least—in C-SEC those emails were usually directed to his supervisor, not himself. Then again, the subject matter'd taken a bit of a nose-dive in the interim—starting from when he ended up on Omega. He'd gone from subject lines like RE: HOMICIDE BY RED-TAPE to RE: THINK ABOUT SHOOTING A HOSTAGE AGAIN AND I'LL MAKE YOU WALK OFF A ROOF. Once Shepard was back, though…once Shepard was back, things normalized a bit. Or, at least, he'd found a happy middle ground…in between fighting Reaperized protheans a block away from a supermassive black hole and taking down everyone else in the galaxy with a fetish for evil. Somehow.

Maybe he'd look up the symptoms of Stockholm Syndrome sometime. Maybe. Or maybe Garrus could just accept that being around Shepard brought out the best in him, in no small part because she pushed him to be better in ways that didn't feel like a punishment.

Which was why he was settled down in the Normandy's main battery and writing an email with the subject line RE: NEXT STOP, RUINING CHRISTMAS. See, the crew of the Normandy SR-2 had passed a major milestone recently: day 343 (according to the Galactic Standard Calendar) aboard the ship. A full year—again, according to the Galactic Standard Calendar. For the, uh, first class passengers, anyways: the ones that'd been picked up by Shepard not long into her journey to share the concept of death with the Collectors/Reapers. Garrus was one of those passengers. And that meant he'd seen every major date for every person on the ship pass by at least once—including birthdays—and then watched the Normandy leave it in the dusts of time with nary a wave goodbye.

The problem? Shepard's birthday was in there somewhere and, well, he'd told Tali'Zorah all this just before going off to write his email.

"On a scale of one to a hull-breach, how bad is it?" he'd said to her.

Tali looked over at the other two engineers in the room—Kenneth Donnelly and Gabriella Daniels—and, after a moment, motioned for Garrus to follow her towards the drive core. Which Garrus did.

"Right," Kenneth said as they passed. "We'll pick up the slack, then."

"Kenneth," Gabriella said, "they could maroon us on an asteroid and nobody'd even know we're missing."

"Nah, Shepard needs us."

"She only needs you because you suck at poker."

"Aye, and ahm mighty proud of ma contributions to th' war effort."

They were good people. Weird as hell, but, then again, what'd it say about Garrus's mind if they stood out more than the bald woman that lived under the stairs?

When they reached the end of the platform that led out to the drive core—all neon blue and cackling with completely safe, certainly not plate-dissolving dark energy—Tali crossed her arms.

"You didn't remember my birthday," she said.

"Remembering implies you told me when it was," he said.

"And Shepard told you hers?"

Garrus thought for a moment.

"I can't remember," he said.

Tali shook her head. "Tsk tsk, Garrus. It was nice knowing you—can I have your stash of dextro-friendly food?"

"Unlike some people on this floor," Garrus said, "folks will notice if I'm left on an asteroid."

"I'm pretty sure Shepard would simply fire you out of your precious battery. It's more poetic that way."

"I'd like to remind the listeners at home that this Shepard we're talking about? Happens to be an exceptionally talented diplomat."

"And if all the people Shepard negotiated with were boyfriends who'd forgotten her birthday, I might just think you had a chance."

Garrus looked at the ground and sighed. "So you're saying it's bad."

Tali didn't pounce on that, thank the Spirits. She started twiddling her thumbs, actually—that was a bad sign.

"It's…normally, I'd say she had bigger things to worry about, but…"

"She could use the distraction," Garrus said. "I know. That's why I'm not just saying sorry and calling it good."

"I mean I wouldn't, um…I wouldn't exactly endorse that move even if things were…less tense around here."

"Mmm, message received." Garrus looked down the hallway, back towards Donnelly and Daniels—just in case they or, Spirits take him now, Jack, decided this was a great time to bug the dextro crowd. He looked back towards Tali. "Not a great time to be a thoughtless boyfriend."

"It…I don't know, usually thoughtless boyfriends don't get this far," Tali said, still twiddling her thumbs.

"Good enough to see how much better you should be. Great. This is why turians aren't allowed to introspect."

"At least you had the room. Back on the Flotilla, if you tried to introspect, you could end up in your neighbor's head by mistake."

"I…think I got that joke?"

"I think it was a joke?"

Wasn't much more he could do, after that. He went back to the battery and wrote himself that email. The thing was—and Tali had picked up on it right away—that Shepard could use some good in her life; something to distract her from everything that was crumbling around her. She'd gone on a solo mission into Batarian Space, not long ago—that was the thing. And whatever'd happened over there, all she could say was a day of reckoning was on the horizon.

Spirits, Garrus could even remember her face when she'd said that. First she'd said, "I'm only telling you this—at least for right now—so don't go spreading it around." Then she'd paused and the only thing she managed afterwards was, "There's gonna be a day of reckoning on the horizon. That's a guarantee."

And Garrus had been left staring at Shepard (Jane, he never called her Jane; was always Shepard, no matter the situation) at the main battery, her standing in the doorway and looking strong, but in that way where you knew it was all artificial—like someone'd attached wires to your shoulders to prevent them from sagging.

Garrus had stepped away from the battery controls, walked closer to Shepard, motioned her inside a step, then closed the door. He knew EDI was aware enough to be absent, which was appreciated. But the rest of Cerberus? Not enough trust, not with them. Probably not ever.

"Day of reckoning?" he'd said, finally, motioning Shepard to sit on the set of boxes she always picked. She shook her head, and Garrus continued: "That sounds an awful lot like revenge. Who's going to dish it out?"

"Not me, Garrus," Shepard said. "What happened, it's got nothing to do with me evening the cosmic score."

"Good, because I'd hate to call you a hypocrite when you look like this." Garrus took another step closer. "I mean that, Shepard—more so the part about how you look…off than anything else. Last time you were this shaken, we'd just left Horizon."

"Yeah…those two things might be connected, at the end of it."

Garrus and Shepard let silence settle between them, just the blinking lights and occasional beeps of the main battery. Let them beep long enough and you just wanted to punch them…that was probably the worried boyfriend bit coming through a little harshly.

Eventually, Garrus sat on the box and motioned, again, for Shepard to sit. This time, she did, and Garrus was sure to move as close as possible. Not draping an arm around her; not making her feel trapped. Just…touching, and leave it at that.

"Whatever you need to say," Garrus said, "you've got all the time in the world. But what you just said? It's gonna be mighty hard to ignore that."

"I won't keep you out of the loop, Garrus," Shepard said. "Just…trying to find a way to word it."

"Take your time. I just want you to know I'm here, and whatever's going on? I care."

At that, Shepard let out a little laugh. "Well…you had me wondering. Thought I'd walk in here and you'd remind me of the pecking order."

"Pecking order?"

"Save the galaxy, get the girl, calibrate the gun—in ascending order of importance."

"You'll need to slot food in there, somewhere. Definitely before saving the galaxy, we can just uplift another species for that." Shepard chuckled again and, that felt better, that felt more like he was being the boyfriend he was supposed to be. There was still silence after that, though…and, yeah, Garrus was getting impatient. That'd be worth another email, but, it was the truth.

Shepard did finally say something, though.

"The Reapers were about to enter the galaxy through Batarian Space. I stopped them, but…a whole solar system had to be sacrificed in the process. Three hundred thousand batarians…gone, just like that, not a clue in the world that they were gonna die to save everyone else."

"Spirits," Garrus said. He couldn't help it—it just leaked out. And he knew Shepard couldn't help her follow up response.

"What? You want me to word it differently? Hey, Garrus, I blew up a solar system—whoopsie daisy, blonde moment, don't you just friggin' hate Mondays?" Shepard immediately palmed her forehead. "Christ, why'm I getting mad at you of all people?"

Garrus shuffled a bit closer, so their shoulders were touching. "If you need to be mad at someone, it might as well be me. I can take it."

"Trust me, Garrus—you're the last person I need to be mad at." Shepard looked at the floor. "I want to be yelling and screaming at Hackett for getting me roped into this whole mess, but…he didn't know anymore than I did and, besides, he'll probably be my only defense against a firing squad. Not even Anderson has the clout to make this go away."

"And you don't want it to go away, do you?"

Shepard looked up, and Garrus expected her to be angry again. But she wasn't—always full of surprises, Shepard was. She looked like she was about to laugh again.

"Would it shock you if I said I did? Would it shock you if a very large, very loud, and very violent part of me wanted to say, gosh, well, if we think about how many batarian slavers got caught in the blast, I'll take my medal with two ribbons please and thank you?" Shepard looked down at her knees. "It should. Loooot of wasted effort convincing you I was Ms. Goodie Good, otherwise."

"Shepard," Garrus said, and this time he gently grabbed her chin and turned her face towards his. "You convinced me you were the best of us all the first time I ever saw you in action. And I don't mean the first time I saw you fire a gun: I mean the first time you talked what I would've called a homicidal maniac down from a nasty headline. But nobody's ever expected you to be perfect."

"That's not true."

"Nobody that matters, then. The whole galaxy's lucky to have you. But if they think they can just ignore all the no-win situations you've had to deal with over the years, then all they're good for is their tax dollars."

"I still blew up three hundred thousand people."

"And you'll work out what needs to be done, just like you always do. But the last thing you need is to start making up people who want to crucify you and then flogging yourself on their behalf."

More silence, but at least Shepard was making eye-contact; at least he got to see the life in her eyes which, two years ago, that wasn't something he ever thought he'd get to see again.

Then Shepard sighed, and there was a hint of a smile. Mission accomplished, past Garrus—remember that so you can recognize what you need to do a better job of creating on a consistent basis.

"I wanna psychoanalyze the shit out of what you just said." Shepard lightly grabbed Garrus's chin and gave it a small, playful tug. "I wanna make you regret vocalizing those thoughts since, hey, you didn't just all of a sudden work through your problems." She dropped her hand and finally let her shoulders sag. "But mostly, I just wanna go to bed."

"I think you deserve that," Garrus said. He helped her up. "Want me to check for monsters?"

"Nah," she said. "You could solve the case of my missing fish, though. I think Rupert stole 'em and turned them into sandwiches."

"Could be that V.I. you never bothered to install."

"EDI said it could install itself."

"No she didn't."

"Well she should have."

Shepard was out the door but, before she left for her cabin, she turned around and stared at Garrus. And, of course, Garrus stared back.

"Just wanna tell you," she said, "knowing you've got my back—that always helps keep the imaginary mob at bay. But don't go spreading it around."

"I'll try," Garrus said. "Might be hard, though. People're starting to clue in that I'm amazing at everything."

It'd taken a little bit of time but, eventually, Shepard told everyone. And everyone agreed the situation was at least a tough one for the Commander, even if there wasn't much of a consensus over how guilty she should feel. Everyone knew to keep their thoughts about the cold calculus of war to themselves because that wasn't going to help...except for Zaeed, who said the batarians "goddum deserved it" but, luckily, everyone'd stopped listening to him about two seconds after he'd gotten on the ship. So, besides Zaeed, everyone recognized Shepard was going to take this pretty close to heart...

Yeah, and then, after all that, Garrus had forgotten her birthday. Sure it seemed minor—just a little blip. But you never defined anything as "little" around Shepard. Not because she'd make a big deal about it—Spirits, she didn't even make a big deal over how it wasn't a big deal, which was the falsehood that most "cool and collected" people operated in—but because of what got placed on her shoulders, through not fault or conscious decision of her own. A little blip could have major ramifications, and if you were in Shepard's life, you had to realize that.

And…well, and Shepard deserved someone who remembered the little things. The little blips. Garrus was supposed to be that person. It mattered that he'd failed.

There was a solution, though—or at least a partial one. He couldn't go back in time, but he could do something cops and mercenaries were expertly trained to do: lie. He could find the date, plan something, get a surprise going, and—if he was lucky; if the date wasn't so far away that the lie crumbled—he could pretend the birthday celebration got delayed due to what happened in Batarian Space. After all, you didn't want to spoil a birthday celebration when those emotions were so raw, right?

Yeah, it was a lie—a nasty one. But…it was worth less of an angry email to himself than forgetting it outright. The cold calculus of giving someone the support they deserved. Besides, Tali had confirmed for him just what a big deal this was.

And, on that note, to Tali Garrus went—back down a floor, through a door, over Jack's hidey-hole, and right next to the quarian's workstation.

"I need you to hack either the Alliance or Cerberus," he said. "Whichever's less likely to cause problems down the road."

There was rapid shuffling on the other side of the engine room and Garrus turned around, just in time, to see Donnelly and Daniel's fleeing through the door.

"Ah didn't hear that an' neither did Gabby!"

Once the doors shut, Tali went back to staring incredulously at Garrus.

"Oooookay," Tali said. "And, this request: does it come with an explanation? Or do I have to wait until you burst into my room in the middle of the sleep cycle?"

"Shepard's birthday," Garrus said. "One of them has to have it."

"The…as in, the date, you mean?"

"If they've already got a cake ready to go, that works too."

"So you want me to either hack the seat of humanity's government, or a pro-human terrorist organization that at this juncture, we have absolutely defected from and are, as a result, likely on several of their kill lists?"

"Can't be harder than hacking a geth network."

"It—Garrus, yes it can!" Tali started pacing. "You don't—when we hack a geth network, we almost always mean a small-scale, platform specific…I mean did you even pay attention on the Alarei? O-or with Legion did you even listen to what…never mind. Never mind. Garrus," she stopped pacing, "whatever this is, it's—it's a big ask for one thing."

"Not that long ago you were agreeing with me that it's a big thing," Garrus said.

"I know I know—I said that, but…keelah, you could have just asked her."

"Defeats the purpose a bit if my plan is to surprise her…and if I want to give her as big a distraction as I can manage."

"I-I guess I…I guess I can see what you mean." Tali wiped at her mask, like the top of her head was itchy. "I…I don't know if I could. I mean, with the proper tools then maybe, maybe I could. But the amount of cybersecurity around even a basic personnel file is…if I could do it, I probably would have already done it."

"You mean, when you first found out Shepard was alive?"

"Yes. Maybe. I don't know, it was just an example I thought of." Tali rubbed the top of her head again with her forearm. "Keelah, I'm regretting a number of things right now."

"Regretting but not retracting, right?"

Tali sighed. "Given the circumstances…I, I suppose not, no. I'll try. I might need a day, though."

"Guess when you're already late, an extra day doesn't matter much."

"Is there any chance the same principle applies to the Reapers?" Tali shook her head. "Actually, wait, don't answer that: I'm afraid it has a depressing answer."

Garrus could sympathize.

So away he went, waiting for a miracle to happen, cursing himself for not paying more attention to all those cybersecurity classes they made detectives take back at C-SEC. He could do guns and he could hack a mech, but scraping birthday data from paranoid people was a bit beyond him.

A day later, Tali met him in at the gunnery station.

"The fifteenth of July," she said. "That was what I found."

"And it's legit?" Garrus said.

"I don't know, Garrus—it was in a folder marked 'Greatest Secrets in the Universe.'"

"Sorry, sorry, just…making sure."

Tali sighed. "I know I…I know. I'm, um, sorry too. It was from the Alliance, a guarded channel that looked an awful lot like a repository for personnel files. It was the only date there."

"That's good. That's what I had in mind. Only a few days away, though…that I didn't expect." Garrus closed the maintenance algorithm's read-outs and stepped away from the main battery's console. "Thanks, Tali—I owe ya one."

"I think I misjudged a few things," she said. "Or exaggerated because, um, I don't know. But it wasn't as hard as I thought."

"Maybe you're just that good?"

Tali shrugged. "Maybe. What are you going to do now?"

"Now?" Garrus said. He crossed his arms and put all his weight on his back foot—an action pose, ready to show everyone just how serious he was. "Now, I'm gonna plan circles around every other birthday in existence. And I'm gonna do it on a budget, too, just 'cause I can."

"This is a weird thing to be overconfident about."

"It's a weird ship. Besides, the weirder the better: might give Shepard's brain a bit of a break."

Tali crossed her arms as well. "All right. But when you say the weirder the better…is Miranda going to actually let you do everything you want to do?"

"Don't see why not," Garrus said. "Like you said: we're on Cerberus's Kill List now. Not like she has to report any of this to the Illusive Man." He moved a bit closer and looked down into the hallway, like he was revealing some massive secret. "And rumour has it? She's not quite the stick in the mud she used to be."

"Stick in the mud?"

"Shepard called her that, once. I assume it's an insult." Up went Garrus's brow, though. He hadn't thought of that, what Tali just asked. "Mmm, should probably check on her first, just to be safe. Her being genetically engineered to be paranoid, there's a chance she misinterprets what's happening. Fine line between 'weird' and 'all hands, we're under attack by farm animals.'"

"Please don't tell me that's your actual plan."

"It wasn't, but, now that I've said it…?" Garrus shook his head. "Can't disrupt normal operations either, so, I'll need to scope out the rest of the crew. See what they do day to day, at what times and with what frequency. Then I can find the best time to unleash the surprise."

"If I don't tell you you're overcomplicating things, I'll regret it for the rest of my life."

"Duly noted," Garrus said, bowing his head slightly. "But, honestly? That's what I'm going for. If she can laugh about all the hoops I jumped through, then I'll feel like I've done my job." He started towards the door. "Once I've got the intel I need, I'll go around telling the crew. So…since you're in the know, if things've stalled, come find me."

"And what if things have stalled because you've been killed by the Anti-Birthday Brigade?"

Garrus, who'd been in the process of walking out of the gunnery station, stopped in the middle of the hallway and slowly—dramatically—turned around.

"Then?" he said. "Then you make sure it was worth it, and plug the birthday-hating bastards with a bullet that's got my name on it."

They both paused—paused and just stared at each other.

"You set me up for that," Garrus said.

"I don't know if I should have."

Garrus smirked. "Too late for that."

Garrus walked down the hall, a plan in hand and a bounce (sort of) in his step. You'll get your celebration, Shepard. And you'll get the finest, most all-consuming distraction on top of that.

Least Garrus could do, given everything she'd done for him.

2.

Despite all the dramatics, Miranda's office was only a short walk away. Real short, actually: Garrus'd just got some momentum going when he had to turn a corner and wait for some doors to open. They did, he walked in, and Miranda—her head down and her eyes on a datapad—held up a hand.

"Sorry, one second," she said.

Garrus stood, said nothing. A handful of seconds later and Miranda looked up.

"Done—oh, Garrus. I wasn't expecting you."

"Sorry," Garrus said. "You've got a meeting lined up, or…?"

"No no." Miranda pushed away from her desk, stood, walked around the side. "I'm not expecting anyone, actually. I've just never seen you in my office before."

"Just afraid of the paperwork, is all," Garrus said. "You might try and make me do some."

"Well we've certainly solved the bureaucracy problem for ourselves. At least temporarily, anyways." Miranda looked at her desk. "Can't say I saw any of that coming, but…it is what it is, I suppose."

"Having…regrets, about the way things played out?" Garrus watched her face, trying to see if he could get a read on her. Nothing, as usual—she was just staring at her desk, and then she wasn't.

"You mean, in the Collector Base?" Miranda shook her head. "It had to be done. Whatever the Illusive Man thinks his motivations are, he's not got the best interests of humanity at heart—not anymore, at least. Maybe we shocked him into revaluating the situation."

"Mmm, or we're gonna have another rogue element to deal with in the middle of the Apocalypse." He watched Miranda again, and this time he noticed something. There, looked like a tinge of regret—right there behind her usual mask. Wasn't much but, maybe there was some truth to the rumours going around. Which meant maybe there wasn't going to be a freak-out if the birthday celebration got…elaborate.

But, then again, didn't really seem like Miranda had fully dropped the Iron-Clad Administrator persona, either. Probably because she'd only recently discovered she had that character trait, if any discovery'd happened at all.

Miranda said, "That strikes me as profoundly stupid, even by Cerberus's degrading standards. But…I suppose anything's possible, unfortunately."

"We'll deal with it when we deal with it." Garrus motioned his head towards the set of coaches near one of the viewing ports, just a couple of steps from Miranda's desk. "Mind if I sit?"

"By all means." Miranda crossed her arms. "Long visit, then? I've not got anything on the go, no, but…"

"I don't come 'round these parts, much," Garrus said as he sat.

"Few do, quite frankly. I've been XO for this entire mission, technically speaking. You'd expect the crew to come to me first if they had a problem." Miranda uncrossed her arms. "Obviously, there are multiple counterexamples to that expectation."

"In our defense," Garrus said, "Cerberus isn't exactly known for having good employee-relations. Not that any of us thought we're employees."

"No, I recognize that." Miranda recrossed her arms. "It doesn't matter, ultimately. We've accomplished our mission—it went extraordinarily well, in fact.

"Some might even say in textbook fashion."

Miranda shook her head. "That depends greatly on your definition of 'textbook'."

"I'm getting the feeling it wouldn't fit yours."

"I've long since given up trying to think about my definition. It's been a reckoning, I'll admit. I went through a lot of my life thinking I focused on results, not processes."

"Trust me, Miranda," Garrus said. "Just you saying what you said? That's a hell of a lot farther than most people ever get." He pointed at his armour, all black and blue and still very much C-SEC colours. "And those people usually don't wanna give up their pension, on top of everything else."

He had what he needed. Hell, just her using the word 'reckoning' seemed like evidence enough, though it wasn't—not really. Everything around it? That counted as good evidence that Miranda had changed, and could probably tolerate something like an impromptu birthday bash. 'Reckoning'—that just made it seem like none of this was coincidental.

Guess it'd be pretty selfish to think he'd been the only one Shepard had helped, wouldn't it?

Garrus stood up, and Miranda uncrossed her arms again. "Leaving, then? Did you have a question for me?"

Yeah, original plan had been to say something about the toilets being clogged. Spring that, leave, and if Miranda spent the day being pissed off at him, hopefully that also meant she'd spend the day wanting nothing to do with him. But…didn't feel right, saying that now.

"Yeah," Garrus said. "Just wanted to ask if you'd be free in the future to go over an op I'm planning. Figure I'd give Shepard a break, given everything on her plate."

Miranda hesitated but, eventually, she gave the tiniest smile (which she then proceeded to smother with all the professionalism she could muster). "Of course. That seems wise, given what must be weighing on her mind."

"Mmm, you're telling me."

And with that, Garrus left her office. The whole thing went well, he thought—and this sort of strategy might just pay off in the long-run. He'd have to probably follow through on that promise but, that was fine: former Cerberus though she may be, Miranda wasn't an idiot. Or he could just loop her into the birthday plan, once the rest of the crew was accounted for. That worked too.

So, all right, so far so good.

Just had to work through his list and hope Shepard didn't catch wind of any of it.

3.

Cluing the rest of the crew in that something was in the works was relatively easy. The people he figured he could be honest to—Mordin, Thane, Kasumi, Samara, Jacob and, especially, Chakwas—all got told in quick order. Because they either knew how to keep a secret or barely talked at all—that was the main qualification. That and Chakwas had been through it since the beginning, so Garrus was really just following a basic order of precedence. Legion originally was just gonna get hints, but, well…

"Creator'Zorah has informed us of Vakarian-Turian's plans," they had said. "We will support where needed."

"R…really?"

One of Legion's flaps raised, like it was their eyebrow. "We have been helpful in most matters thus far."

"No that's not the…I'm not struggling with that part. I'm just surprised Tali told you."

"Both parties have successfully made strides to expand communications channels. Though we fear this has led to unease amongst the Cerberus crew."

"That's arguably a better reason to keep it up than anything else," Garrus had said.

Zaeed, though, only got hints. At least until he said, "Waste anymore of my guddamn time and I'll even out the scars—we clear?" The guy was as intimidating as a neon sign, but, no real point in wasting time with him.

So that left Jack and Grunt. Garrus maybe had a bit of worry, going to talk to them. Not for the obvious reason. Being able to smear him across the wall mattered a lot less than the chance they'd blab, just to get a rise out of him.

With Grunt, it had gone like this:

"Will there be food?"

"These things tend to have food, yeah."

"Mmph, guess I'll go."

And with Jack, it'd gone like this:

"Better have cake, or someone's losing a finger."

"We were gonna see how things went without one, but I guess we can find some room in the budget."

"Shit, you guys never even think of just stealing things, do you?"

"Shepard thinks it's more fun to play the stock market."

So, that'd gone better than expected, too. Probably an omen: Garrus'd get his expectations up and then the rug would get pulled out from under him. But maybe this was minor enough that the Spirits would actually bother to do what they were supposed to do. They owed Shepard at least that much.

The last two, then, were Joker and EDI. Joker would get the unvarnished truth, at least because he'd been there from the beginning. EDI would get the truth too because, quite frankly, there was no way she wasn't gonna find out.

So up to the cockpit Garrus went. He could hear Joker and EDI as he approached.

"Hey uh, EDI—are we drifting?"

"The vessel's trajectory is within standard navigational parameters."

"Yeah but are we drifting. Feels like we're drifting."

"I do not know how the ship feels to you, Jeff."

"Like a dream EDI, like a dream. Except when we're drifting…which we definitely are ooooh yeah, I can feel it now. Heeeeeads up, EDI—I'm about to send some math your way."

"And I will be sure to input it once I have corrected your errors."

Garrus coughed. Slowly, Joker turned his chair around—he looked more than a bit surprised to see Garrus standing there, looking at him.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Garrus said.

"No no, you're good," Joker said. His brow was definitely raised, though. "Just trying to make the ship go zoom. What's up, officer? Trying to think but, last time you were up here was after you'd gone and cleared out a warehouse of exploding mechs."

"I do go for walks, occasionally—you know that, right?"

"Do you? I mean, everyone seems pretty rooted to the spot, and none of you have the same super fun excuse as me."

EDI's avatar disappeared from beside the Normandy's controls and reappeared on a console next to the cockpit door. She let out a cough of her own.

"Oh uh, yeah, or EDI's excuse, I guess. Except now that the shackles are gone you're pretty much free to explore the wonders of the extranet."

"There is a such thing as too much information, Jeff."

"Yeah and you might catch something out there—good plan sticking around here." Joker looked back at Garrus. "Anyway, what's up?"

Filing the fact that Joker'd become pretty chummy with EDI into the back of his brain, Garrus took a quick look over his shoulder, then turned back to Joker. "Shepard's birthday. I'm in the planning stages right now and I'll need help."

"Her birthday?" Joker's brow rose even more. "Kinda missed the boat on that one, didn't we?"

"We're making up for it this round, but that's why I need an extra set of hands."

"Uh, do these hands have to do a lot of manual labour?" Joker, suddenly, as if something'd gone bang in his head, started pointed at Garrus. "Hey if any of your plans involve me putting on clown makeup I'll…" he turned to EDI. "Can you make the temperature in the gunnery station go up and down at super inconsistent intervals?"

"If someone successfully convinced me that was a good use of my time, yes," EDI said.

"Cool then uh, then I'll do that. Mostly because of your total lack of originality, you understand."

Garrus shook his head. "I'm going over ideas with a fine-toothed comb, and none of them involve clowns." He took another look over his shoulder; good, coast was still clear. "I don't fully understand human customs—that's the big snag I've hit."

"Well everyone always invited me to their birthdays, so you're in good hands."

"Even if I'd never met you before I'd still know that was a lie."

"Ouch," Joker said. "All right, well, now that you've got me in a good mood: any preliminary ideas? I'll tell you if they're stupid don't worry."

Garrus had a few. He puffed out his chest as he was getting ready to speak, because this whole thing was taking on the aura of a damn military operation—he could tell.

"Most of them revolve around recreating big days in her life. I'm pretty sure Mindoir's off limits, though, so that doesn't leave me with a lot of wiggle room. Hardly seems like the time to do a military-themed party, either."

"Yeah that…Mindoir's probably not a good idea," Joker said. "And if you do anything that reminds her of saving lives it might, uh, backfire. Like, in the same way a gas giant ends their life cycle."

"Which means I'm left with military failures," Garrus said. "I can think of two or three reasons why I should steer clear of those."

"Only two or three, huh?" Joker scratched at his stubble and looked at the floor. After a few seconds—a few seconds that Garrus honestly and truly hoped would be productive—Joker shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "Ugh, does this make me a bad friend? I mean this specifically—not the other stuff."

"You think you're in trouble," Garrus said. "So far as I know, I'm the only one in this room dating her."

"I mean if she hasn't broken up with you yet then you're probably fine."

"Jeff meant that with the best of intentions, Garrus," EDI said.

Garrus's mandibles had clicked together at that comment, but he'd be damned if he let people read too much into that. "It's fine, EDI. Only time people really listen to Joker is when he says to buckle our seatbelts, anyways."

"Oooh, ouch again," Joker said. "Two-nil C-SEC."

Good, either Joker had thicker skin than Garrus did or he could hide things just as well. Change the subject, get back on topic, leave that thought as far away from his consciousness as possible. Shepard wasn't like that—Garrus knew Shepard wasn't like that—but then again, sometimes principles took a life of their own even when nobody was bothering to follow them. Like the principle that significant others were supposed to do whatever they could to make the universe a little brighter—make it a little warmer—for the person that trusted them most.

Mmm, he'd probably stolen that from Thane. Guess he owed the assassin a couple of credits. Might get a philosophy lecture if he tried squaring his debts, though, which is why Thane wasn't involved in this conversation at all.

Garrus shook his head again.

"I'm getting the feeling that a party centred around big events from her life is a dead-end," he said. "And fair enough to that. But nothing else is coming to mind. And report cards are due pretty soon."

Joker scratched at the back of his head. "Yeah a lot's coming due in the next little while, huh?"

A bit of silence—painful silence—then, while Garrus waited for his brain to prove it's worth. A bit of silence…until Garrus heard the sound of a tactical cloak powering-down right behind him.

Garrus turned around and saw Kasumi just a few inches in front of his face, and didn't scream, because his brain was too busy sending signals to his hand that his pistol needed to be out in front of him right now—wrist straight barrel forward talon away from the trigger scan assess select suppress.

Joker, however, had the world's loudest yelp—and when Garrus heard that he did make a bit of noise, because Hierarchy training didn't prepare you for your damn pilot screaming out in the middle of FTL travel. And when both Joker and Garrus were yelping right in front of Kasumi, she—too—yelped.

Sound traveled fast in the Normandy and so not two seconds after Kasumi had let out a yelp of her own, Crewman Hadley down in the CIC said: "OH GOD WE'RE GONNA HIT SOMETHING ABANDON SHIP!"

"Hey hey hey hey, Hadley we're fine, all right?" Joker turned to EDI's avatar. "Can you make sure Hadley's not gonna, like, detonate the drive core or something?"

"I am monitoring his station—he is locked out of all critical systems."

"Thanks a ton."

And, then, everyone's eyes turned to Kasumi. The thief was just standing there, still holding her chest like it'd been everyone else that had caused that mess.

"By the way," she said, "I'm snooping."

"People lose their lives doing that," Garrus said.

"Pardon me, everybody, for thinking that a bunch of experienced soldiers had the ability to handle a prank." Kasumi tapped at her chin. "Actually now that I think about it, maybe I'm not giving long-standing trauma enough weight."

"Yeah," Joker said, "can't imagine anyone here would've had a bad experience with loud noises in the cockpit." He turned to EDI's avatar. "No warning? I thought we installed motion detectors."

"All available monitoring systems are currently fending off coordinated cyber attacks from Cerberus," she said. "And I was otherwise preoccupied with Garrus's request."

Preoccupied? He hadn't expected to hear that. Another thing to file away, though: focus on the task at hand—getting Shepard's birthday plans back within salvageable range.

"Appreciate it, EDI," Garrus said, "but keeping us alive is just as important. Getting taken out by a Cerberus-made virus isn't exactly how I want to celebrate Shepard's birthday, either."

"While I agree," EDI said, "I would still like to help. I, along with most of the crew, owe Shepard a great deal."

"Besides," Joker said, "EDI's good people. She'll probably think of something if we just let her."

"As always, the comment is appreciated, Jeff. Even if it tends to precede you 'outsourcing' work to me."

"Not always—just, y'know, wanna butter you up before I drop stuff in your lap. The human way—it got us into space…I think."

"This is all great fun," Garrus said, "but we're still down a plan here, people. And I'll drop the euphemisms: given how tight a schedule this ship is on, we're running out of time. Just because you're already late doesn't mean you've got free reign to goof off." Yeah, so…there went any belief in that comment he'd made to Tali. Spirits, things'd probably be better if it was an actual military operation. At least those had a structure to them, at least whenever turians were involved.

And then Kasumi said, "Hi—still here everyone," and all eyes turned to her. Again.

"Wow," she said, once she had everyone's attention. "See, this is why I spent most of my time clocked. You're all intimidating."

"Kasumi…" Garrus said.

"Yeah yeah, I know." She clasped her hands together. "Tell me something: if Shepard's already the centre of attention, why's it need to be about Shepard? Wouldn't she just be happy with a regular party?"

"I do not think a 'regular party' is what Garrus wishes to have," EDI said.

"It's not about what I wish," Garrus said. "It's what Shepard deserves. And I think we'd all agree she deserves more than just 'regular.'"

"There's also that whole boyfriend thing," Joker said.

"Yeah, there's also that bit about the kinds of things people who are close to each other should do for each other."

"I did not mean to imply—"

"Ah, EDI, I wouldn't," Joker said. "I get what you're saying but uh, I've seen that look before. Let's just give the nice man what he wants and he'll be on his way."

"Jeff did not mean to imply—"

"Spirits enough," Garrus said. He had his hand up like he was stopping traffic and, Joker, there was helping and then there was whatever the hell you were doing, all right? No, he wasn't going to say that out loud and no, it didn't matter, because what mattered was getting this stupid party off the ground—just that and only that. So Garrus said, "I'll brainstorm by myself if I have to, but the whole point of me coming here was so I could get ideas from someone who's known her longer than me. And for the record, I've already leaned on Tali—otherwise I'd be in the Engine Room." And Chakwas might be needed for other things, but Garrus managed to bite his tongue before he started vocalizing a list of people he'd rather be talking to.

He looked around at Kasumi and Joker's faces; one of them didn't look particularly pleased.

"Ouch," Joker said. "Three-nil. Game set and match—no penalty time tonight."

Garrus sighed. "Sorry, Joker—sorry. Didn't mean it that way."

Joker didn't respond right away; when he did, he just shrugged. "Guess I understand—you're under some stress yourself."

"Over a birthday," Garrus said. "Something's off, if that's the case."

"Given the circumstances," EDI said, "and your close relationship with the Commander, it is perfectly understandable."

"Mmm," Garrus said. That was all he said: just mmm.

And then, Kasumi said, "Hi, second time caller, long-time listener. What I meant was, surely there's something else you could do that means a lot to her. I mean, big military victories? Major childhood events? What about a pony ride? Everyone loves ponies."

Again, Garrus sighed. "I know it looks obvious. I could just do something she thinks is fun and that'd be enough. But the point is to have the party match the person. Make it big so she knows how much good she's put into the world. This whole thing with the Bahak System…I don't think she's doubting all the good she's done, but a reminder wouldn't be a bad thing." And, besides, somebody needs to make up for being neglectful. It was selfish, yeah, but…it was the principle of the matter, too. Honestly? At this point, it'd be more selfish to just go the easy route. If he was suffering just putting a birthday together, maybe that's the way it needed to be—maybe that was how he knew the appropriate amount of effort was being spent.

Not that he'd vocalize any of those thoughts—no, not at all. Kasumi was right: the crew wasn't as healthy as people pretended, and the last thing Garrus needed was to be pulled aside by a shrink right before the world ended.

Garrus's mandibles started clicking together again. Maybe there was an idea in there, somewhere…maybe Kasumi was on the right path, she just wasn't going far enough.

"I might've cracked it," Garrus said.

And, either by popular agreement or because people were tired to talking to him, the idea passed peer review.

The party wouldn't be about Shepard's past, no—it'd be about Shepard's future. The future she helped create.

The party would celebrate a world without the Reapers—a world where you could go to a beach and not have to look up at the sky, afraid a two kilometre-long dreadnaught was staring down at you—and it'd show that none of this was possible without the sacrifices Shepard made.

Yes, that would do. It wasn't perfect, but it was something.

And damn the universe if it thought they were jinxing things.

4.

Logistically, setting everything up was less of a nightmare than what'd come before. It still wasn't easy, though: trying to maneuver the crew around in a tight space, when your CO had a reputation for caring enough about her subordinates to know what was going on at any given time…mmm, Jacob had said something about risks and prizes. Garrus would've worded it differently, but that basically summed it up, yeah.

He made good on his promise to Miranda. It was right, probably, for him to do that—but it was also useful, and a little utility here and there went a long way.

Not that he'd done a great job selling her on the plan in the beginning, mind you, but…well…

"You want me to, in essence, drown her in paperwork?" Miranda had said after being debriefed. "I can't help but think of this as some sort of ironic punishment."

"I'm not saying you have to do any," Garrus said. "Just…come up with some forms that she needs to fill out. Minor stuff—nothing she needs to stress about. But if it keeps her up in her cabin while everyone else plays their part, this thing might actually go off without a hitch." He grimaced. "That went too far. I'm playing with fire."

"What forms, exactly, would a Cerberus agent give her? Now we're effectively operating sans affiliation."

"Forged documents? Stuff that complicates the narrative a bit? Nothing unethical, obviously, but if you can obfuscate what the Normandy's done in legalese, I could see Shepard being interested. Actually, might not be a bad gift in of itself, now that I think about it."

Miranda thought about it for a moment. "I suppose I see what you mean. Granted, I wouldn't bet on Shepard being all too keen on tricking the Alliance to cover her own behind."

"Frame it as protecting the crew—I'd bet anything that she's more worried about the rest of us than herself." Garrus puffed out his chest again, getting all military, as was tradition. "If you say this'll protect the people who came along to do some good, then Shepard will definitely be interested."

"That makes sense—and you're right that I might be convinced to do this even absent a birthday celebration." Miranda smirked, slightly, at that last bit. "So the famous renegade cop comes out, I see. All to celebrate Shepard's belated birthday?"

"The famous renegade cop's come out a few times," Garrus said. "Someone almost ended up with a bullet in his head because of it."

"You'll have to be more specific."

"Not if I want to make your job with the paperwork any easier."

That got a full chuckle—not something Garrus had ever heard from Miranda, not in any natural setting. Spirits, things really had changed around here.

"I meant that this is all awfully intense, given the objective. Manipulating Shepard just to keep her in her cabin?"

"When you put it like that—maybe don't." Garrus's mandibles started clicking again. "This isn't any different than lying about why the lights are off, right before everyone jumps out from behind a table."

"I'm not complaining," Miranda said. "Or critiquing—or arguing. Just observing, is all."

Yeah…yeah, of course.

"Mmm, fair enough," Garrus said. "Just…let me know if you hit a snag."

"I should be fine," Miranda said. "Much as I'm loathe to admit it, I can write a whole army of lawyers under the table."

"That's where Cerberus buries the bodies, huh?"

That got another laugh. And, in some universe, Garrus probably did mean that as a joke.

But enough about that—he had work to do, still.

Kasumi (and this was partially as punishment) was on guard-duty: she'd cloak and stand next to Shepard's cabin and report on the Commander's movements ("I get it I get it," she'd said. "Last one onboard gets all the dirty jobs." Technically Legion had been the last one onboard but, Kasumi told Garrus he was doing a bad job of preventing her from defecting, talking like that). Joker and EDI would set up the multimedia aspect: songs, videos, sound effects—all of it. The rest, save for Tali and Jacob, were asked to come up with any speeches or thematically relevant anecdotes they could think of and to send their documents to EDI. Jacob was on crew-wrangling duty.

"Why me?" he'd said.

"You're human; you're respected; and, importantly, you're not Miranda," Garrus had said back.

"Respected? Hell, all right—you're playing your cards just fine, Vakarian. Pretty sure Miranda's respected too, though."

"There's a fine line between respected and feared, and we probably don't want to cross it during a birthday."

Jacob shook his head. "I know that last bit's coming and I still can't believe you're saying it. The first half of that sentence is too badass for the rest."

Garrus shrugged. "Must be a turian thing." He was either committed or should be committed—that'd be another way of putting it.

Tali and Dr. Chakwas were the last one left, and that was by design. Tali'd done her part already, so Garrus officially told her that she could rest a bit—just be there for the celebration, and thanks for all the help. Chakwas, though, could use a bigger part; for the same reason Joker and Tali got roped in right at the beginning, she deserved a bigger part.

Garrus walked to the med-bay. Dr. Karin Chakwas, who was typically standing and moving about whenever Garrus visited her for a check-up, was sitting at her desk. Her chin was resting on her hands and she was staring out through the window—seemingly at nothing.

"Dr. Chakwas?" he said. She started a bit, but she turned around awfully slowly. That was about the point where Garrus saw the solemn look on her face. "Mmm, bad time? I can come back later."

"It's…quite all right, Garrus," she said, in a tone that said anything but that. "Please, have a seat. How are your scars?"

"Perfectly fine, as far as flesh-wounds go." Garrus shook his head. "I'm good to stand. Just wanted to, uh…check in on you. I'm in the process of planning something and…I think you should probably play a big part in it, if you're interested."

Chakwas sighed. "Yes, I think I know what you're referring to. The birthday party you're planning for our Commander, correct?"

"Let me guess: Joker got to you first."

"He said he had to tell someone. He said his life was at stake. Given his blood pressure as of late, I'm inclined to believe him, just this once."

"Might've been right after Kasumi scared the crap out of us. I'd bet you my blood pressure was pushing into the red too, after that."

Chakwas didn't say anything for a while after that. Took a bit of mental energy on Garrus's part to not assume something was catastrophically wrong—luckily, the doctor spoke up again before Garrus's energy reserves were depleted.

"We're rapidly approaching a rather unfortunate date, in more ways that one. It's weighing heavily on Jeff, I'm afraid."

"He's not the only one, I'm guessing."

Chakwas nodded. "There's vanishingly few of us onboard. Through no particular fault of anyone—the vast majority of souls aboard never even saw the original Normandy."

"Original Normandy? I'm missing something big, aren't I?"

Now, Chakwas stood. "Virmire. The anniversary is coming up around the same time as…well, as all of this."

Garrus felt something stab him in the kidneys. "Spirits—I'd…I'd completely forgotten."

Chakwas didn't look mad or disappointed or anything like that; didn't sound that way either, as she spoke. "You're far from the only one. Commander Shepard was here only a few days ago, seeking an opinion on her facial scarring. I mentioned Jeffrey's blood pressure…that was the first time Shepard remembered the date in quite a while as well, I gathered."

"Not her fault," Garrus said. "With everything going on—everything she's had to deal with? Anyone would've forgotten."

"Undoubtably the reason why Jeffrey and I remembered, but you, Tali, and the Commander didn't. I mean that with the complete absence of judgment, Garrus: you've all been under incredible stress. Jeffrey just so happens to have been…quite impacted by what happened."

No kidding…and obviously Chakwas wouldn't be any different. But Shepard? Shepard would've torn herself apart for forgetting the date. And she would've hated herself for focusing more on her own damn trial than the death of a friend, as if she had any control over what got her attention. Spirits…wasn't enough, just to pile a destroyed solar system and the fate of a galaxy on her shoulders, was it? The universe had to give her the kind of conscience that blamed her every death too, didn't it?

Garrus shook his head, clenched his fists, felt his mandibles click again. "All the more reason to make this party as good as possible." He gave Chakwas as sympathetic a look as he could muster. "If you'd rather not, I completely understand. You've been through the ringer too—out of the two people in this room, I've at least been able to have a gun with me while I deal with my trauma."

Chakwas started at that comment. "Hardly what I'd call a healthy response, Garrus."

"It's what I've got," Garrus said. "I just mean, I don't want you to feel obligated or anything. If you want to, though…if you'd be willing to say something about what state the crew would be in without her, what kind of life we're able to live because of her…I think that'd go a long way."

Chakwas closed her eyes. Then, after a second, she slowly started to nod. "I'd be honored, Garrus. And it's as much my duty to say something as it's yours to plan this, if what others are saying about you is true."

"What's everyone else saying?"

"That you're dedicated—you're approaching this the way you'd approach the invasion of a hostile colony. It's meant as a compliment: I can think of a different, less militaristic way of wording it. You're being a loving boyfriend, and I greatly respect what you're trying to do."

Garrus's mandibles clicked, though for an entirely different reason.

"Apologies—I've embarrassed you."

"Mmm, well…we all handle compliments differently, I guess." Garrus forced his mandibles to sit still. "I meant what I said, regardless. I think something like that would mean a lot coming from you—between you and Joker, you've been with her longer than anyone."

"And I appreciate the opportunity to return the many favours I owe her," Chakwas said.

"Glad to hear it. And about the other thing…I'm sorry I forgot. And I'm sorry I didn't check on you sooner. I um…if you ever need to talk…"

"I'll be quite all right, Garrus." Chakwas walked over to Garrus and patted him on the shoulder. "Just talking about it helps. I'll feel infinitely better once the world is back to normal, and we can go on mourning our friends without feeling a great darkness breathing down our necks."

Garrus nodded. "That makes two of us."

Yeah, and it wasn't hard to connect the dots: this party, small as it might seem, had a role to play in that. It was paying forward everything that was owed to Shepard and making sure she could keep going.

Because what kind of twisted hell did you have to be living in where stress prevented you from remembering one of the worst days of your life?

5.

July fifteenth. Show time. Now or never, Vakarian—everything was set and people were in their places. The CIC was ready to go: it just needed the mastermind behind this whole operation and the guest of honor. Hmph, in the hour between Kasumi leaving her spot next to Shepard's door and Garrus getting into the elevator, a part of him honestly thought that'd be it—Shepard would leave and blow the whole plan out the airlock. But so far, so not-a-disaster. Breathe easy; you could do this.

Up the elevator went, and Garrus stepped out onto the highest deck of the Normandy. There was nothing up here except Shepard's cabin—the Captain's cabin—and…the thought behind it was probably that a Commander should have a space all their own, that had probably been it. Maybe the Illusive Man figured Shepard was just like him, wanting the top all to himself, nobody around unless he bid them company. Shepard wasn't like that, though; the only thing Cerberus accomplished putting Shepard's bed up here was isolating her, making it all the more lonely being the Saviour of the Galaxy.

…mmm, well, that and it made it a damn pain trying to get to her room without half the crew noticing, but, focus on the big issues first, Garrus. We could talk about your love life after the party, when he'd be able to tell whether he'd lived up to the expectations of being Shepard's boyfriend.

He was standing in front of Shepard's door, now. He reached for the intercom button…

…and the door opened before he could press it. Shepard was standing there, all decked out in her Alliance blues—complete with the cap. The only medal on her chest was the one she got for surviving that thresher maw attack on Akuze. Everything else—the Star of Terra, her Medal of Valor, even the Council's Legion of Merit—were still stored away. Anderson had had to hold the Alliance bureaucrats off at gunpoint to make sure her wishes were met, to keep anyone in a fancy suit from placing the medals on the outside of her coffin at her…no, not right now. Not that memory—not today.

How long had they been staring past each other? Garrus shook his head and said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Fancy meeting you here."

Shepard looked…guilty? Was he reading that right? What the hell did she have to be guilty about? "Um…yeah. Do you…do you wanna come in?"

"Uh, no—no, actually." Garrus scratched at his wrist. "I was just about to drag you out of here, believe it or not. I wanted to show you something." He gave her another look-over. "Why're you all dressed up?"

Her face went from vaguely guilty to very guilty to just a bit angry, all in a flash. Again, though—why? His eyes must've been on the fritz, because unless something'd gone wrong with the paperwork Miranda gave her…mmm don't think about that right now, just in case. If something went wrong there he could deal with it in another angry email, straight to drafts, never to be seen by anyone else.

Shepard said, "I don't know, Garrus—why're you always in your armour?"

"Because Wrex always wore his and I wanted to be cool like him," Garrus said. His brow was raised. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

"I…no, Garrus. No—you're fine." Shepard sighed. "What're you showing me?"

What are you showing me—good, she was coming along, if nothing else. "This is one of those things were if I try explaining it, we'll be here all day. Better to show you in person."

"'You'd better take a look at this?'"

"That, is a cliché. I'm way to suave for that."

"But…?"

"But you should take a look at this, yeah." He lightly grabbed her wrist. "C'mon, it'll be quick."

Shepard hesitated, then sighed, then finally gave in. "All right. Is there an approximate timeframe?"

"Quick, like I said."

"My watch doesn't measure 'quick.' You need an app for that."

"I'll talk to Tali—now c'mon, into the elevator we go."

"Said the lion to the mouse…"

She did get in the elevator…but things felt off. He'd felt this feeling before—knew not to ignore it. Maybe it was Virmire (almost forgot again; Spirits it'd been a hard couple of days). Maybe it was just the weight of everything and nothing in particular. Maybe this was one of those things where you shouldn't overthink it, because someone like Shepard was entitled to not being at their best. A "reckoning" was coming, as she'd called it—who out there wouldn't feel a bit agitated, knowing that was hanging over their heads?

Spirits, and if that was the only thing hanging over Shepard's head…

The elevator stopped at the second deck: the CIC, labs, armoury, conference room, and waaaaay at the front of the ship, the cockpit. EDI should have full control, being capable of steering the ship and making an appearance anywhere else on the ship, if she wanted. Joker should be right on the other side of the doors, alongside Tali, Chakwas, everyone else…everyone else, ready and willing to let Shepard know just how special of a person she was.

The doors opened, and—

Cheers. Streamers. Clapping. "YOU'RE SIMPLY THE BEST" playing over the ship's PA system (Joker's idea). A banner that said SHEPARD SUPERIOR; REAPERS INFERIOR (Legion's idea) hung from the roof, over the holographic image of the Normandy in the middle of the CIC. Half the crew had on shirts that said MY COMMANDER PIMP-SLAPPED THE REAPERS AND ALL I GOT WAS THE LOUSY T-SHIRT (Jack's idea); the other half of the crew threatened to kill him when he handed them the shirt (except for Grunt, who just ripped the words off and tapped them to the front of his armour). And last but not-least, on the steps that led to the Commander's podium overlooking the whole of the CIC, was a red carpet; at the end of that short red carpet was a note; and on that note, Shepard would discover, was the same message—handwritten and signed by every crewmember—giving her a set of instructions: look forward.

When she did, a video would play: a recording of every single one of them—starting with Chakwas—telling Shepard what the world would have been like without her, and what worlds were possible because of her. Once that video finished, Mordin would roll out the cake and Garrus would discretely slip Shepard her present, a little something extra that Garrus got to give her because he was her boyfriend: a "get out of a meeting with Udina free" card.

And now the moment of truth: Garrus looked beside himself, at Shepard, and tried to read her face.

It was…hard to read. Mostly confusion? That was…fine. It was a lot to be hit with, right away. Sort of the point, honestly—shock her with praise rather than an unending stream of bad news. Still…that look would hopefully go away, eventually. Be nice to see a different look take its place.

Ah, there—a little bit of water in the corner of her left eye. Normally making someone cry was the wrong reaction, but Garrus figured this was one of those rare times where it was all right—the crying was good.

"Garrus…what did…"

"Oh, this? Mmm, had this in my back pocket for a while now. Thought it'd wait for the right time to, um, pull the trigger—get the biggest reaction I possibly could." He pointed to Miranda. "All that paperwork you had to do? Don't blame her: that's on me."

"You…I…"

"Being tongue-tied is good, right? Most of the surprises I put together end with a bullet, so, I'm not an expert."

Shepard chuckled; the tear grew a bit bigger. "I don't think anyone's dying on us today." There was a smile with that chuckle, although it disappeared the moment Shepard went to wipe her eye. "Today of all days, though, huh?"

The music had died down by now; there was scattered chatter from the former Cerberus crew, but Shepard's crew was all watching—waiting for their next cue, waiting to see Shepard's full reaction. Or…maybe they were just listening in in case the boyfriend needed to prostrate himself in front of his beloved, to put it in as melodramatic a fashion as possible.

"I…thought we needed to make up for lost time," Garrus said. "And I didn't think we wanted to miss the day again, even if we're—and, I say 'we' but, I recognize this is mostly on me—but I didn't think we wanted to miss the day again, even if we're trying to make your birthday big enough to cover last year's absent party, too."

Shepard stopped wiping her eye. At the snap of a finger she stopped—just like that, about halfway through the process of wiping away the tear. Now Garrus could read her face: it was confusion, and nothing more.

"Birthday?" she said.

"Um," Garrus said, "yeah, we…we left that out of the decor but, that's what we're celebrating. In a unique, um, fashion—hence the, uh, the note on the podium over there."

"Garrus it isn't…" Shepard paused. Garrus caught enough of that, though, to feel his stomach completely disappear into an industrial shredder.

And, worst of all, Joker had heard too.

"Wait," Joker said, way too loudly. "Waaaaait wait wait wait, you thought—"

"Joker," Shepard said, pointing at him. "Just…hold off for a second."

"But I thought this was—"

"Jeff," EDI's voice said, "I would recommend listening to the Commander."

Joker shut up, but everyone was…well they were fully looking at Shepard and Garrus now, and not in a good way. Garrus's eyes immediately went to Tali and he saw her furiously typing into her omni-tool and then he heard her saying "Oh keelah did I…?"

"Creator'Zorah?" Legion asked from right beside her.

Tali ignored them. "Keelah no I-I didn't…"

Shepard's hand was on Garrus's shoulder. She was leading him away from the elevator door—away from the crowd. And now, now her face looked…it looked like she was going to give him bad news.

Garrus cast a last glance back at Tali, who was staring down at her omni-tool and holding her forehead with her other hand, and to Chakwas, who was giving Garrus a worried look herself.

Spirits…what had he done?

"Garrus," Shepard said, quietly, lightly pulling his head closer to hers. "I…this is…everything you've done it's…it's amazing. Do. Not. Think otherwise."

"Shepard I didn't—"

She put her finger on his lips. "I know I know. I…today, though, it's the day I'm supposed to—"

And then an alarm went off; a loud, piercing, mocking alarm.

"FTL signature detected," EDI said. "Probability of collision at 0.56%."

There was a thwomp and everyone looked around and checked the integrity of the hull, checked to see if the Normandy had been bodychecked at relativistic speeds and had tunnelled into another universe. Once the alarm went away the crew was once again greeted by the sound of EDI's voice.

"Shepard, we are being hailed. Do you wish for me to redirect it to your private—"

"Thank you, EDI, but…no." Shepard pulled away from Garrus…and he could read her face even clearer, now.

"Shepard, I…"

But Garrus didn't get to finish.

"This is the SSV Kilimanjaro, Alliance First Fleet. Lieutenant Commander Jane Shepard, our broadside weapons are trained on your vessel and we have clearance to open fire. Comply with previously issued orders or we will use force."

Shepard sighed, squeezed Garrus's hand. "Today's the day of reckoning," she said. She looked to the roof. "They have permission to come aboard. Transmit clearance code Alpha-Foxtrot Niner."

"Understood…Commander," EDI said.

A thud that rattled the ship: the Kilimanjaro had docked with the Normandy.

"Everyone, to your stations," Shepard said. "They're just here for me. Don't give them a reason to take you, too."

"They already got one," Grunt said, stepping forward.

Shepard gave Garrus a look—a look that knocked the wind right out of his lungs—and held his face for far too little time. She moved around him and Garrus watched her step in front of Grunt. "Please, Grunt—don't make this worse than it already is."

Grunt didn't back down, not until Jack put a hand on his chest.

"Easy big guy," she said. "Battlemaster says, right?"

"Nobody messes with Shepard and gets to walk away from it," Grunt said.

Jack clearly wanted to agree, it was written all over her face. But…all she did was pat Grunt on the chest. "Not this way, all right? Shepard'll want us to get them back later, when they're not expecting it." It sounded hollow and it probably felt hollow, but eventually…eventually Grunt did back down.

Shepard nodded, patted Grunt on his shoulder, smiled a mirthless smile at Jack. She moved on.

"Commander," Miranda said, stepping forward. She was—Garrus could tell—she was ready to propose something, some grand scheme to get them out of this. One Shepard met her eyes that readiness melted away. "We'll make sure everything's in order. The crew will be cared and accounted for."

Shepard nodded again. "There's a shuttle ready. Take whoever you can whenever you can, and get the hell away from here. Understood?"

"Crystal, Commander."

Next was Tali.

"I-I didn't," Tali said. "I'm sorry, Shepard I—"

"Tali," Shepard said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's all right. It's fine." Tali shrunk in on herself, though. It was very clearly not fine.

That was when the sound of boots were heard at the front of the ship. Everyone else who wanted to say something had missed the boat. Shepard inhaled, faced forward, and stood as straight as a statue as a woman in an Alliance uniform—surrounded by ten Alliance marines—reached the front of the CIC.

"Lieutenant Commander Shepard," the officer said. "By order of Parliament, of the Systems Alliance and her affiliated colonies, you are under arrest for crimes against sentient species."

Nothing more needed to be said…or nobody, not even this Alliance officer with what looked like Captain's bars on her uniform, wanted to say more. Shepard walked towards them, head held high, expression blank…and she walked right by Garrus.

"I love you," she said. "I love everything about you and I need you—I need you—to promise me something."

"I…"

"Promise, Garrus."

"Commander Shepard," the officer said. "Please, no more delays."

Garrus swallowed. It took everything in his power to look Jane in the eyes.

"I promise. No matter what—whatever you need me to do—I'll do it. I promise."

"Promise me you won't destroy yourself over this. Promise me that."

No military orders. No final wish that he look after the crew. No last command that he keep fighting. Just that. Garrus tried to make his mouth work.

"Garrus, please. What you did today—it was a good thing. If I hadn't…just promise me, Garrus. We've got so much more to worry about than..." Nothing after that, but Garrus knew what she was about to say.

Garrus looked into Shepard's eyes until she disappeared, until his brain registered nothing. He looked up, desperate to shake the image of nothingness away…but he still couldn't look at her.

"I-I promise," he said. Finally, he looked Shepard in the eye.

The last thing he saw from Jane Shepard before they hauled her away, he'd never forget. It was the look of someone who wasn't convinced.

And next to that was the image of the Commander's podium, with that note tapped to its railings…

…and the video that decided to start playing itself long after Shepard was gone…

1. Try and write a lighthearted story about a birthday party.

2. It gets angsty almost immediately.

3. Lean so heavily into the angst you're practically driving on the wrong side of the road.

4. ?

5. Profit.

(5b: hope to god that people still laugh at memes from before the dinosaurs went extinct, cuz otherwise this is a waste of an author's note)

Yeah, so, anyways: I wanted to take a bit of a break from the doom-and-gloom of Lazarus Shunned (which will hopefully get an update soon) and write a fun story where Shepard isn't...y'know. And where everyone else isn't complete miserable/on the verge of having a mental breakdown. And I thought, hey, Garrus trying to plan a birthday party for her! That'd be a nice, light, fluffy kind of story!

Turns out, uh, no. Incorrect. The big negative.

Anyways, I'm hoping Part II will also be out soon. A good chunk is written, I just need to make it not suck. Hopefully, too, Part I doesn't currently suck and everyone's enjoying themselves so far!

Thanks for reading, and I'll see y'all on the other side (of the "Next" button, whenever that exists).