He was quarian too. She found it hard with other quarian. Her great shame, the heart's secret betrayal of the Flotilla. But it had been this way since her Pilgrimage, since exposure to the galactic community proper, with all its expressions of life: turians and the shuddering of their mandibles when frustrated or annoyed; asari and their alluring eyes, mystery and wisdom and sex wrapped up in a glance; salarians, mouths so clever, hundreds of words rattled off in a minute; and humans, with their eyebrows, his eyebrows, denoting so much, so many different feelings, all with a simple raise, quirk or furrow. Tali was used to the galaxy's facial expressions, drawn to smiles, grimaces, everything in between. It was difficult bonding with quarian now.

There was talk of drinks. EDI wouldn't, couldn't. Joker wanted some kind of human spirit, expensive, brewed in Sol and shipped to the Citadel. Do you want anything, the quarian seemed to ask Tali, but over the music in Purgatory, the high, foot-tapping electronic beat, she couldn't hear. She indicated she couldn't make his words out, a shake of the head, and from this he somehow gleaned her order, gave a thumbs up, said something about an emergency induction port. And he was gone.

Tali on one side of the table, Joker and EDI on the other. "He seems nice!" said Joker. "How are you feeling, Tali?" asked EDI.

Tali demurred. "With your physiological sensors, EDI, I'm sure you already know exactly how I'm feeling."

"You're right," said EDI. 'But Shepard tells me that others find it disconcerting when I speak aloud my biological analyses so frankly. I am trying to ask questions more, despite already knowing the answer. So – how is the date going so far, Tali? How are you feeling?'

Shepard…

The quarian returned, placing a tumbler full of thick translucent liquid in front of Joker and two long tubes, sparkling purple, by his seat and Tali's. He placed two straws in their glasses too before sitting down. He was a pilot, he got to saying. This was his Pilgrimage. Weird, being on Pilgrimage, while his people joined the galaxy in fighting for their homes, for their lives. But his work did help the war effort. He moved cargo – ammunition, thermal clips – to and from the Perseus Veil. The Flotilla traded with the planets he delivered to, and thus his work meant something, did something. He spoke as if he alone was backing the quarians' shifting war with the reapers.

Joker started a conversation about piloting cargo ships, the perils of trade routes in warzones, and Tali thought to herself how small and pathetic her date's efforts were compared to Commander Shepard's. How silly it was to boast about flying a system or two away from reaper-controlled worlds when the Normandy was regularly flying toward reaper dreadnoughts, when Shepard had stood on Rannoch itself, stared a reaper in the eye, keelah, led the quarian fleet in destroying the bastard - all without taking a scratch.

Yes. Shepard. A silly crush. A little girl's fancy. She was beyond that. It wasn't right to let it ruin the moment. Tali shook her head as if to scatter the Commander out of mind.

Out of mind… and into the room?

The conversation went on. EDI ventured her opinion on how to navigate the famous asteroid field of the Tikkun system, and Tali bent away from the table, peered across the dance floor, through the silhouetted bodies – arms flailing, stomping, sweaty - to the far tables at the other side of the room. Yes, that was him. No. Was it?

Tali.

Movement. Hard to make out through the crowd. He's spotted. Leaving.

Tali.

No. That couldn't be him. Shepard wouldn't hang out alone in Purgatory anyway. Would he?

Tali!

She snapped back. Joker and EDI laughed. Her date laughed too. He placed a hand on her shoulder, wanted to know her thoughts on what EDI had just proposed, the crazy notion that an Alliance Escort Carrier with modified chemical rocket thrusters could out-speed a Flotilla frigate.

'It is not a crazy notion. I have calculated the results of this competition in over nine thousand different scenarios,' EDI explained.

Tali gave her answer, joined the conversation for some time longer - but not for long. Only an hour into the date, she expressed weariness, tiredness, and when Joker told her she needed more drinks in her, she feigned sickness. Maybe there had been bacteria on her emergency induction port?

You're going? Come on, don't leave me here! I thought this was supposed to be a double date? I can't date this guy for you, Tali. Be safe returning to the Normandy, Tali. We will see you tomorrow.

Tali left the voices behind, left Purgatory behind, moved through the neon-lit streets of the lower wards. It was miles to the Normandy's dock, but she didn't fancy a cab. At first, the Citadel's hedonistic masses spilled out of bars, clubs and restaurants – forgetting there was a war on or drinking to forget exactly that fact. But soon Tali's travels brought her away from the crowds, to grey streets with boarded-up shops, neon signs that flickered their last flickers, and alleyways with batarians sleeping against walls – homeless, lost, a vision of the galaxy's future without the Commander. The occasional pale-faced human would pass by, invariably look at her funny – as if she were the vagrant, as if she were a danger. Mostly, the streets were quiet. And dark.

Rarely was life so simple for the crew of the Normandy.

She saw them first, they spotted her looking, then the problem started.

It was in Zakera Ward. They emerged from the alleyway, under the shadow of metal walkways above, humans, calling out – Hey, quarian! Thanks for joining the war effort! Quarian, what's the matter, we're on the same side now. Drunk, Tali figured. She kept her senses alert. They were behind her, fifteen feet, following, calling, things getting nasty now: Don't ignore us. We're thanking you. Even though it's too late. Even though earth is already gone.

Tali glanced over her shoulder. She couldn't see a weapon. But she was armless too. Probably she could take three drunk humans hand-to-hand. Probably.

Their calls become growls. What are you doing round here anyway, quarian? Looking to steal something, I bet.

Tali beat on. A lone turian limped by. The humans were briefly distracted, laughing at him. But they didn't want Tali to get away.

"Hey, wait up!"

And they were jogging after her. She turned, annoyed now. And as the leader - an ugly, squat man with a horseshoe hair pattern – reached out, with practised hands she threw a straight, her fist colliding with his nose, crunching it in place.

The man wailed. One attended to him. Another swore and withdrew a short knife from his jacket pocket. And then…

Crack. The knife was kicked from his hands. Crack. Fist to jaw, first man down. The man Tali had punched, turning, shocked, legs sweeped from under him. The last man throwing a lazy punch, easily countered, knee to his stomach.

The vagrants fell to the floor and staggered up together, running away, whimpering, with swears and pathetic insults. Commander Shepard, in his civilian gear – black jacket, jeans – watched them go.

It was like something from one of her vids. Or those human superhero comics she had seen on the Citadel. Commander Shepard, swooping in, saving the day, heroic, the leading man. She didn't know if it was an imitation of her vids or a natural reaction, but Tali nearly swooned: Shepard! Yet she caught herself. And after a beat, withdrawing from her fighting stance, she said, "I knew that was you in Purgatory."

He looked at her. "Oh. Uh. Yeah. Maybe."

Masking embarrassment with feigned military awkwardness. Tali knew this man better than he would have guessed.

They walked. Mostly without speaking. Zakera Ward and the run-down streets fell behind. An advertisement chimed as they passed the shop counter: I'm Commander Shepard, and this is my favourite store on the Citadel. Shepard nodded to the lit windows of a still-open diner, The 55 States All-Nighter. Earth-inspired. Tali wondered if Shepard had been there before.

The lights were too bright, reflecting off the linoleum floor and plastic-covered tables. The scent of burger and stale coffee beans floated through her scent receptors. They took a seat by the window. Two humans sat by the rounded counter, drinking what looked like milkshakes. A tired-looking asari in the corner, maybe military, stared into her bowl of soup.

"Coffees, right?" Shepard said when the human waitress came, cocking his head Tali's way.

"Sounds good to me. With a straw, please. And as long as it's good for me, if you know what I mean. No milk or anything. I'm not so good at digesting that."

The waitress nodded and left. Shepard watched her go, crossed his fingers, placed his elbows on the table, and waited for Tali to speak.

"Sooooo," she said. "Fun night?"

"It wasn't until that fight. After all this life and death stuff, sometimes a low-stakes brawl is what you need to unwind."

"You know I could have handled that myself, right?"

"Sure. I know that."

"But still, appreciate the dramatic entrance."

He looked embarrassed again. "Well… Uh… Sure."

Music played gently in the background. Old earth rock 'n roll. Guitars. The coffee came in white cups, steam floating up and dissipating under her mask, under his nose. They drank silently for a time.

"Soooo, what were you doing in Purgatory anyway, Shepard? I can't imagine you, you know-"

"What? Dancing? Having a good time? Being normal?"

She laughed lightly, maybe something like a giggle. "Yeah. All of that."

He shrugged and tried out a very obvious lie. "I was returning the Banner of the First Regiment to a turian officer that hangs out there. Good for morale, you know. That's all."

"Sure. And you happened to leave when I happened to leave, right?"

He frowned in thought. "Not exactly. But I may have noticed you get bored of your date, yes. And I then noticed you elect to walk back to the Normandy rather than take a cab. And I figured I'd join you on a walk. A hundred feet back or so. You know, didn't want to be a bother. You looked like you wanted some alone time."

"Creeeepy, Shepard."

There was a brief moment where it wasn't clear how he'd react, but he laughed, nodded as if to concede the point. "Thanks, Tali." Then he rallied. "But good thing I was there. That guy had a knife."

"You just admitted I could have handled it myself!"

"And you could have. But even still. I face someone with a weapon over you. That kind of thing is my job, as Commander. I look after my crew."

A beat. "Yeah." Another pregnant pause between the two of them. "But just for emphasis, you know I'm not the same young quarian you saved from assassins three years ago. I'm not that girl anymore."

He looked strained, serious. "Hey. Tali. I know that."

"Well, good." There was a need to inject some levity into their conversation. Tali affected pomposity. "Because I'm an admiral now, you know. Verrry important."

Shepard, for some reason, took it in all sincerity. "I know you are. And I'm proud to see how far you've come."

There was shuffling. The two humans with the milkshakes rose from the counter and made to leave the diner, giving Shepard and Tali curious glances as they passed by. And yes. It was curious. Tali saw things from their eyes. A human and quarian, together, in the middle of the night, deep in a conversation tinged with some hidden meaning, hidden import.

"You've grown so much, and so fast, that sometimes I have to remind myself you're not that kid on her Pilgrimage anymore," Shepard went on. "I know it. But it's happened so fast, I sometimes forget."

"You spent a couple years there literally dead, so I can forgive you. All that Saren and geth stuff must feel not as long ago to you."

He smirked, swivelled the coffee cup in between his hands. "Yeah," he muttered.

"It's funny," Tali began, and she didn't know how or why she had the courage to divulge this, but somehow, as if in a show of how mature she now was, it was all fine, "I used to have such a crush on you, back then, on the first Normandy."

Shepard glanced up, as if alarmed, as if in danger.

"You were this big, brave hero. Something out of one of my vids, kind of thing I watched as a teenager. And I was just this silly little girl, looking for geth tech, thinking I could maybe help you save the galaxy if you ever had a console to hack or a locked door to crack."

"You did. You did help me."

Tali was shocked to find her internal systems suddenly flooding with emotion. But she kept her voice steady, joking. "And I was so jealous of Lieutenant Williams."

Shepard's expression was hard to read. "You noticed?"

"Her slip into your room before Ilos? Yeah, I noticed."

He released a deep sigh, swigged down the last of his coffee. Tali had barely touched hers.

"Well, I guess I sort of know how you feel now."

She cocked her head to one side. The waitress came to refill Shepard's cup. He politely waved her away. Tali waited for space, then asked, "Wait. Shepard. What do you mean?"

He looked bravely through her mask, into her eyes. In that way only he ever did. As if the suit wasn't there at all.

"Well, back then. You were so young. But now, you're an admiral. You've saved the galaxy twice already. About to do it a third time. You're a woman. Powerful. Clever. And funny too."

The conversational thread was getting tangled, lost in doublespeak and hidden meaning. Tali was sort of sure of what they were talking about, but she couldn't take the risk, had to untangle the knot, figure things out, him out, before committing herself, admitting what she wanted to admit.

"I was a kid back then. You don't owe me an explanation of why you didn't like me like that, Shepard."

He shrugged again. "I feel like I do. I struggle to express my feelings sometimes, Tali. Military training. So analysing past events, our past, to explore and explain. That's how I do it, I guess."

"Do what, Shepard?"

He smiled. Behind her purple visor, she smiled too. Tension released like a rubber band being pulled taut and let go. A giddiness settled in her belly as she waited for his answer.

"Let you know that I like you, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy."

Joker and EDI were still there, at their table, the music pumping and the drinks flowing. The dancing crowds had barely thinned out. The quarian she had been dating was gone. Look who I found wandering the wards, Tali joked, and her and the commander took seats, ordered drinks, smiled private smiles.

"Yeah, well, your date is gone, Tali. He wasn't so impressed about being ditched," Joker informed. "Nice guy. I sort of liked him. But hey, the Commander's just as good a replacement." Joker addressed Shepard. "Hey, Commander. Didn't think this was your kinda scene. You here to finish the date instead?"

Shepard didn't answer.

"Jeff," EDI said, as if in warning, or as if to make him aware of something.

"What?" Joker asked.

EDI smiled. Tali shrank a little, looking shy. Shepard exhaled through his nose, a short laugh.

"What? What, EDI? What am I missing this time?"

More silence. Joker looked between his crewmates, willing an answer from their eyes.

"Well, if you guys still want to," Shepard said at last, "I'm game to continue this double date if you are."

Joker's mouth dropped. Under the table, the Commander's hand found Tali's.

The date started in earnest. At last, yes, in this stupid war, something good had begun.