The turrets and guns in the Normandy's new forward battery had become Garrus' replacement for the mako, a place to clear his head and focus on a stimulating, but not too challenging, task. He and Shepard both knew that time apart was necessary to prevent from going crazy, and she had duties to attend to as commander anyway. Besides, some time apart meant he didn't have to dodge her concerned questions about what had happened while she'd been gone. He still just couldn't bring himself to talk about it in more detail.

The Normandy was bound for Korlus now, where they would hopefully convince a brutal krogan warlord to join the team. Garrus was skeptical about the krogan based on his dossier. Wrex had been enough of a handful; a krogan who had fought in the rebellions and spent hundreds of years and millions of credits ruthlessly trying to cure the genophage by any means possible seemed like a risky gamble. But it couldn't hurt to see what he was capable of, and if they found that the Reapers truly were the ones behind everything that was happening, their team needed to be as large, as strong, and as cohesive as possible.

Garrus had been tinkering with the battle system's interface, adjusting heat tolerances for the guns, when the door to the battery opened. Shepard was the only one who really visited him while he was there; many of the Cerberus crew members were skeptical of his presence, and he'd heard some of them whispering to each other about him. The only ones who didn't seem to mind him were the two lead engineers and Jacob, all former Alliance.

Expecting his visitor to be Shepard, as it invariably always was, he spoke without looking up, "All right, I found a turret in the front corner that's the perfect height to bend you over, if you've got a few minutes."

"Lovely offer, Birdy, but I'm afraid you're not my type."

Garrus nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Zaeed's voice. He spun around, mandibles flaring with embarrassment.

"Zaeed…I…thought you were Shepard."

"I guessed as much," he replied, laughing loudly. "I'll be sure to avoid any exposure to that turret, then."

Garrus watched the human as he walked around the length of the battery, examining the guns and turrets.

"Uh…anything I can help you with?" Garrus asked.

"Just coming to see what was up here." He ran his hand along one of the turrets. "You know your way around a sniper rifle, right, Birdy?"

"You could say that," Garrus replied, somewhat suspicious.

"You ever handled a Kassa Harpoon?"

Garrus snorted in derision. "Kassa's weapons are substandard. I prefer the Devlon M-92 Mantis. It handles better, more lightweight material."

"Mantis, eh?" Zaeed raised his eyebrows. "What about an M-97 Viper?"

Garrus perked up. "Rosenkov? That's a damn fine gun."

"You bet your arse it is. Goddamn perfect gun is what it is. I used to have one…until it got blown to bloody bits by a goddamn krogan." Zaeed leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest.

"That's a shame," Garrus told him. He had been hoping Zaeed would say he had one. He would have loved to see one in person, but they were fabulously expensive guns. His Mantis had cost him a fortune as it was, and it had been patched to hell during his time on Omega. A Viper was well outside of the price range of a vigilante's salary.

"Yeah, it is. But if we make it through this mission, the pay should be enough for me to finally replace my old one."

"You never know what we might find," Garrus suggested. "Abandoned human colonies don't have any use for weapons left behind."

Zaeed laughed. "Is Archangel suggesting I just steal myself one if it happens to be lying around?"

"If we find the humans, you should return it," Garrus shrugged. "But it's better than relegating it to rust in the meantime."

"I'll keep that in mind. You ever want to talk shop, I've got some guns down in the cargo hold, might interest you. You know where to find me, Birdy." He surprised Garrus by slapping him on the shoulder. "I've got to get something to eat. I'm so hungry I could eat a goddamn elcor."

He took off, and the door closed behind him. A great part of Garrus still distrusted the merc, but he was warming up to him. He had a mouth like a sailor and was abrasive in almost every conversation, but surprisingly good natured overall. He figured it had been a while since the grizzled old merc had had anyone to talk to about weapon preferences.

For a while longer, Garrus stood tinkering with the settings on the right forward gun. He had a lot on his mind: the impending mission, Shepard, her health and his own, and, still gnawing at the back of his mind: Sidonis, the man who had betrayed him.

He brought up his omni-tool and checked his messages, excited to see one from Liara. After Shepard mentioned that they had spoken briefly, he'd reached out to her to apologize for his extended absence, asking where she'd been and what she was up to. Her replies had been short and cryptic, but from the brief information she sent, he got the sinking suspicion she was working in information broking. Instead of prying her with questions though, he'd sent her a brief and simple message.

If I wanted to find someone who had disappeared, would you be able to help me? -Garrus

When he opened her message, he was pleased with the response.

I can find almost anyone…though I never did figure out you were on Omega. You knew how to cover your tracks; most people are sloppier than that. What's this about? And who would it be? For an old friend, I can waive my fee. – L

Garrus reread the message a few times, his heart pounding in his chest. He quickly typed up a reply.

He used to go by Lantar Sidonis. A turian with pale blue clan markings, though he may have changed those as well. That's all I can tell you about him. He left Omega a few weeks ago. I need to know where he is. –Garrus

He sent the message and stared at his inbox for a moment before closing his omni-tool. The only thing that had been more all-consuming than his need to be with Shepard again had been his desire to find Sidonis and make him pay for what he had done; the thought of revenge was in the back of his mind all the time, distracting him constantly, even in the bedroom with Shepard. He had to find him and take care of it: he couldn't afford to be distracted like this on the battlefield.

It could be a while before Liara replied, and he had gotten his fill of calibrating for the day, so he decided to go find Shepard. Back on the old Normandy, he'd had Wrex and Tali and Ash for company most days down in the cargo bay working on the mako; he didn't have that kind of company in the forward battery on this new ship.

As he passed the mess hall, he saw, and heard, Zaeed loudly regaling some of the crew with a story of a past bounty; half of the crew looked scared and the other half looked enthralled. He shook his head and made for the elevator, taking it up to Shepard's cabin. Considering the amenities and the view, she spent a lot of her free time up there, conducting work from her desk.

He entered the cabin and found her slamming her fists against a punching bag in the far left corner of the room. A more extensive training area was available to the crew down in the shuttle bay, but Shepard had a small collection of weights and punching bags for her personal use. She was dressed in her training clothes, her body beaded with sweat, face red from the effort. As she swung at the bag, she let out little grunts and groans, and Garrus felt slightly embarrassed for immediately thinking that the sounds weren't dissimilar to some of the noises she made in bed.

"Hey," she nodded at him in greeting, continuing to swing at the bag. She'd taped up her fists to keep from bruising her knuckles, something turians never had to worry about.

"Blowing off steam?" he asked, taking a seat on the bed and watching her. He admired the way her muscles looked under the shimmering sheen of her sweat.

She laughed. "Something like that. Have to kick this body into gear, increase my stamina. Though you've helped a little with that."

His subharmonics vibrated at a filthy pitch.

"Hey, I know that tone," she raised her eyebrows at him.

"Pretty soon, you'll be able to speak turian, Shepard." Humans almost never recognized the subtle changes in pitch of subharmonics and what they meant. For turians, it was like body language, a very necessary part of communication. He wondered how humans got by without them, but then, they had such expressive and pliable faces in comparison.

She stopped her exercise and wiped some sweat from her forehead. "How's everything down in the battery?" she asked.

"Fine. Still tweaking things. I, uh…may have accidentally propositioned Zaeed for sex."

"Excuse me?"

"No one ever comes to visit me but you. The door opened, I just assumed. I may have said something about bending you over a turret…" he shrugged. "It was embarrassing."

She laughed and bridged the distance between them. Without putting any real thought into it, he began unbandaging her hands.

"I'm assuming Zaeed didn't take you up on the offer."

"Said I wasn't his type."

A series of short, sweet giggles escaped her throat. He liked that sound, it reminded him of before Omega…before she was gone.

When the bandages had been removed, he kissed her fingers and pulled her against him. He hadn't exactly been looking for her just so he could have sex, but it was that overwhelming pull every time he was alone with her. The fact that she had been sweating didn't help, the scent of her filled the room and he found it almost intoxicating.

It was much easier to give in to base desires than to stop and consider why he was so damn obsessed with touching her every time he got her alone.

He licked some of the sweat from her neck and nipped gently at the skin.

"Garrus," she groaned. "I need a break."

The short, simple phrase felt like a punch to the gut. He deflated, letting his hands drop away from her. Up until that point, she had had no complaints, even when he'd prodded and probed to make sure she wasn't hurting, to make sure it wasn't too much. He knew it wasn't unreasonable for her to want a break from his ceaseless pawing, his insatiable lust; it wasn't a rejection, but it still hurt for some reason.

He must have hidden the hurt poorly, because she frowned at him and stroked the scarred side of his face.

"I'm sorry, Garrus. It's not that I haven't enjoyed it, but…God, I had to see Karin earlier about an infection…and my body is just sore." She sighed and sat down next to him.

"An infection?" he asked with concern.

"It's a human thing," she waved her hand. "A side effect of too much sex. It's nothing some antibiotics won't fix."

He placed a hand hesitantly on her back. "I'm sorry. I just…"

"You don't have to apologize. The sex has been great…phenomenal," she said. "We just need to slow it down for a little bit. Besides, sometimes I feel like you're so eager to fuck me so that we don't have to have a serious conversation. Maybe it's time to focus on that instead."

He felt his stomach knot up. He didn't want to have a serious conversation. He didn't want to talk about Omega; or how in his worst moments, up against the wall and facing death over and over again, he'd been angry with her for dying and leaving him alone.

"I'm just not ready to talk about Omega," he told her.

The look she gave him was one he'd never seen on her before, at least not directed at him. She was angry, eyebrows furrowed, fists clenched.

"I'm not even talking about Omega. I'm talking about us. Dammit, Garrus, your tongue has been on every damn surface of my body but we can't have a conversation about how maybe, just maybe, this relationship isn't the same as it was before I died?"

He winced. Now that she was back, he hated hearing out loud that she had been dead. He preferred to pretend it had never happened, despite the last two years and the lingering effect they had on him. But he was also relieved: a conversation about feelings and emotions wasn't exactly something he wanted to have, but it was preferable to discussing Omega.

"Shepard, I…" he struggled to find the words. Part of him wished he'd just stayed down in the battery. "I'm no good at this."

She put her hand against his face and pulled it toward her, forcing him to meet her gaze. "You're my best friend, Garrus. And we can put off how you won't open up to me about things you might have before, about Omega. Whatever. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But can we please just be adults and have a conversation about us? I can't pretend that this is just two friends fucking anymore, Garrus. It's not the same as it was before."

He was surprised to see tears welling her eyes. Did she think he felt differently? That their relationship was still just casual sex between friends? Of course she did. He'd been doing nothing but screwing her brains out since she'd found him, always tugging at her clothes and licking at her skin, completely insatiable. What had he done to make her think otherwise? All he'd done was close himself off emotionally. He felt a horrible pang inside his chest; that she could ever think she meant so little to him…

He brought a finger gently to her cheek and wiped one of the tears away. "I'm sorry," he said. A horrible sob suddenly escaped Shepard's mouth and he immediately realized he'd said the wrong thing. "No! No, no, no, Shepard…" He held her face in his hands. "I only meant I'm sorry I'm so…turian. Of course our relationship's not the same. It's just…hard for me to discuss emotional matters."

He pressed his forehead against hers and she sniffled loudly. For a moment, he thought he might say it, might give voice to that feeling that had been buried in him since she died. But then a panic gripped him, tying his stomach into knots. They were having a conversation that the relationship had transcended 'friends with benefits', but it wasn't an invitation or an offer of feelings that deep. What if he said it and she recoiled? How was he even certain? He stomped the feeling back down.

"Shepard, you're the only person I truly trust in this whole damn galaxy." He said instead, "I don't want to be with anyone else."

She let out a long sigh. "It doesn't bother you that I'm…that some things are harder because I'm not a turian? Your father doesn't approve. Half the galaxy doesn't approve."

"Well, I think you won some points with my dad for saving my life a few times," he laughed. "And I won't pretend that I have some sort of human fetish. It's never been about that. But I don't care that you're not a turian, Shepard. We make it work. Nothing could ever replace what we have."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder. "I don't know why I was so nervous about having this conversation with you. We had that whole talk about not putting labels on things and it still feels like…what label do you use? Boyfriend seems so…childish…not strong enough. But partner is too…" she trailed off. He understood what she meant. Partner was too intimate without either of them having said those words.

"Maybe it still doesn't need a label," he suggested. "Maybe it's just a feeling."

He felt her nod against his shoulder. "I'm so glad you're here with me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She'd said it before and he always scoffed at the notion. She was Shepard. She'd done a good deal for the galaxy without his help. She was strong and noble and diplomatic. He'd been the one who had fallen apart without her. He had no doubt that she could survive without him, but he knew he couldn't survive without her. She would have scolded him for voicing such self-doubt.

Instead of saying any of this, he just ran his fingers through her soft hair and breathed in the scent of her. She was his; not in the way some men claimed women, mired in jealousy and distrust, and not in any means as a way of possessing her; just that she wanted to be with him, and only him, and that no one else would ever be able to fill her place in his heart.

Because he loved her. He knew it then, her head resting on his shoulder; the feel of her, the smell of her. There was suddenly no doubt. It was a feeling he'd never had for any other woman, unique and all consuming, plunging into his chest and twisting around his heart.

But he wouldn't…couldn't say the words out loud, too afraid that for some reason that she wouldn't reciprocate. So he buried it, and took solace in the fact that they had finally voiced their commitment to one another, and he had finally given name to what he'd known all along.

Shepard wasn't sure how long she sat pressed against Garrus, a sense of relief washing over her that he hadn't been too scared to have the conversation, that he'd felt the same. It seemed stupid in retrospect, that she had ever doubted him, but the conversation had been a necessary one and a new step forward in their relationship.

She never would have imagined she'd be dating a turian.

Eventually, she pulled herself away from him, wiping her sweat from the plating that covered his cowl and shoulders.

"Sorry I got you sweaty," she laughed.

He pulled her back against him and licked the sweat from her neck and chest. Before she could protest, his mouth moved up to hers and he kissed her as delicately as his lips would allow, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"I'm glad we talked," he said, pressing his forehead against hers.

She wondered if he knew how much he meant to her, even after their conversation. Omega had shattered something inside of him, fractured his self-confidence. She hated that he doubted himself so much, but she hoped getting back into battle as a team again would help him.

Reluctantly, she let go of him and stood up. "I have to shower and go see Mordin. He said he had something he wanted to show me in the lab."

"If it's got something to do with us…" Garrus started.

"No, he already apologized about that. Hopefully he'll drop the subject."

She pulled her clothes off and tossed them down the laundry chute on the interior wall. Garrus' subharmonics hit a pitch they only ever reached when he had something dirty on his mind. He fell back onto the bed dramatically and draped his arm over his eyes.

"It's not fair, you undressing like that, all hot and sweaty and I can't even touch you."

"There'll be plenty of time for that later," she rolled her eyes. "I need some recovery time."

He sighed. "I understand."

She ran her hand over the skin on her stomach. It wasn't inflamed anymore, thanks in part to the lotion that Karin had given her, but it was beginning to callous from the constant and varied friction from Garrus' rough skin and plating. It wasn't exactly attractive, but at least it would help reduce the chafing.

"Maybe you should go chat with Miranda," Shepard suggested as she crossed the room to turn the shower on. Garrus was still lying on the bed with his arm across his face. He growled dismissively at the suggestion.

"Miranda? I don't think that sounds fun at all."

"Look, we've got to tag team this one. She's just a hard nut to crack is all. But she rebuilt me. I think that warrants an attempt to get to know her better."

"You can't fix everyone, Shepard," he told her, propping himself up on his elbows.

"I'm not trying to fix her," she protested. "…just get her to open up a little."

"I'll consider it," he shrugged and fell back against the pillow.

She stepped into the shower and let the warm water wash over her for a while. Her new body still felt less coordinated, less fit than her old one had been; she was still adjusting. Working out, sweating, really using those muscles again had felt good. With all the stops they would likely be making on such an expansive undertaking of a mission, she figured she'd have plenty of time to kick herself into gear either in her cabin or down in the training area in the shuttle bay. Maybe she could even convince Garrus to spar with her.

As she scrubbed her hair, she jumped in alarm as two hands brushed against her waist. Garrus rested his head on her shoulder, nuzzling into her neck, his subharmonics practically purring, but not at that filthy tone she'd come to recognize. No, this was the pitch he usually reached when they were lying in bed afterwards, cuddled together and content.

"No funny business, Vakarian," she warned him.

"No funny business," he agreed, kissing her neck.

She turned around to face him. His lower plates were partially opened, but she couldn't begrudge him for it. She reached up and ran her hands along his cowl, up to his scarred mandible. Grabbing a washcloth from a rack on the side of the shower, she dabbed some soap onto the rag and brought it to his face, washing the scarred skin and scrubbing delicately at the plating that covered most of his face. He closed his eyes as she worked.

"Your clan markings need a touch up," she told him.

"I can't paint the side anymore," he replied.

The scars reached all the way up to his eye, leaving a lace-like framework where the plating had been destroyed by the blast. She trailed her fingers gently along the path of the mangled skin and plating, down to the small, but noticeable divot on his upper lip. The right-most side of his lips had been damaged in the blast; he could still move them fine, but she could feel the scars when they kissed.

"I hate how it looks," he admitted.

She leaned up and planted a soft, quick kiss on the side of his face. "I don't. I'd rather have you here with me with a few scars on your face than dead. Besides, it makes you look rugged."

He laughed and brought his hand against the right side of her face, where her own new scars marred the skin there. She felt like a hypocrite, considering how much she hated the scars Cerberus had left her with. She hadn't finished healing when she'd been forced awake by the attack on the base where they were rebuilding her. The scars had a warm glow beneath the skin where the cybernetics they had implanted her with were partially exposed.

"What about mine?" she asked Garrus as his thumb brushed against her cheek.

He shook his head. "Just a reminder that you're alive. I'd rather have you here with me with a few scars on your face than dead," he echoed her words.

For a few more minutes they stood there, holding each other, the water streaming down on them from all sides of the shower. Shepard did have things to do, and Mordin would be waiting, so eventually she forced herself to wash up and get dressed.

Garrus grabbed his blue paint from the medicine cabinet and stood before the mirror, examining his face critically. Shepard had never seen him apply it before; this was the first time he'd touched it up since Omega. She knew the paint was a unique blend, one that bonded with the plating on his face and could last for weeks at a time. When she was younger, she'd always assumed the markings on turian faces had been tattoos.

She stood in the doorway and watched as he carefully applied the paint to his face, so intimately familiar with his clan markings that he could have probably done it with his eyes closed. The little container of paint looked almost like a tube of lip gloss, making it easy to apply without creating a mess.

When the left side of his face was complete, he painted over his nose and over to the right side, staring for a moment at the trail of scars. With a surprisingly deft touch, he painted only the parts of his mandible that had been untouched by the blast, leaving a gap where some of the paint should have gone.

He capped the tube of paint and turned to face Shepard. "How does it look?"

"Perfect," she replied without hesitation.

He shoved her gently. "You're no help. Go on and meet Mordin. I'll catch you later in the port observation deck?"

"Okay," she agreed, gripping his hand before she took off.

She made her way down to the lab, still concerned about Garrus, but feeling better overall after their conversation. When the elevator opened onto the CIC, Kelly greeted her and let her know she had some unread messages on her terminal. She was aware, of course, her omni-tool had been blinking since before her workout, but she thanked the yeoman anyway and made her way into the lab.

Inside, Mordin was hunched over some test tubes located inside a vent hood on the interior wall. Jacob sat in a chair near the lab bench, watching and tapping his foot expectantly.

"Hey, commander," Jacob greeted her.

Shepard had noticed that both Jacob and Miranda alternated frequently between calling her by her name and calling her by her title, depending on their moods and the conversation at hand. Miranda in particular would switch to commander when she was talking mission business.

"Shepard, glad you're here," Mordin said without looking up from the vent hood. "Made a breakthrough. Promising for fight against collectors."

Shepard leaned against the lab bench and folded her arms. "That's good. What is it?"

"Samples from Freedom's Progress contained traces of unknown chemical compound. Ran tests, reverse engineered. Neurochemical toxin. Causes hypertonic paralysis. Very potent, very effective."

"So that's how they managed to round up entire colonies of people and ship them off without any sign of a struggle…" Shepard shook her head. It was incredibly resourceful, exactly the kind of thing she would expect from an enemy like the reapers. But why were they harvesting humans?

"Precisely," Mordin said. "Lucky for you, found a way to engineer a vaccine for the toxin. Am preparing it now."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," Mordin laughed.

She could have kissed the old salarian. He had been brought on specifically for his extensive scientific knowledge, in the hopes that he could aid them in their battle against the collectors. She hadn't expected him to come through so quickly.

"Much more work to do of course," Mordin sighed. "But vaccine will be ready in a few weeks. Maybe sooner. Will let you know. Thought you'd want to know it was in development."

"Pretty amazing, doc," Jacob said, grinning.

"It really is," Shepard agreed. She walked over to Mordin and put on a hand on his shoulder, but he shrunk back at the touch.

"Sorry, Shepard," he said, finally looking up. "Prefer personal space. Boundary issues. You understand."

She withdrew her hand. "Of course, sorry. Thank you for help, Mordin. This is a huge breakthrough for us. With a vaccine, we'll be able to fight the collectors without risk of being shoved into pods like the other humans."

"Am engineering a vaccine for myself and Garrus as well," he explained. "Don't want to take chances."

"Good idea. And you have everything you need? Is there anything I can do to help, or…"

"Jacob has ensured lab is up to my specifications. Will let him know if anything else is required. Important to focus on mission, no need to be bothered with my concerns, Shepard. As I said, will let you know when I know more."

She thanked him again before she left the lab to find Garrus and share the good news. When she got down to the port observation deck, he hadn't arrived yet, so she situated herself on the couch facing the window and brought her omni-tool to check her messages. The very first message was from a person whose name she didn't recognize, with a subject line that read:

'Please take care of Garrus'

She opened it immediately.

Commander Shepard,

My husband was one of the men serving on Garrus' team. I don't know how much Garrus talked to you about what happened. I don't know the specifics myself, only that my husband died in a trap set by those bastard gangs. I know Garrus blames himself; he took every shot fired at his squad as a failure on his part, and it was clear when he sent me the message about my husband that he thinks it was his fault.

My husband never would have wanted that. He was proud of the work he did on Garrus' squad. He was taking back Omega from the gangs, making it a safer place for his family. He died fighting with honor. I miss him, God I miss him. I'd give anything to get him back. But whatever happened there, it wasn't Garrus' fault.

You're his commander now. I had to resort to asking Aria's thugs for information about Garrus to find your contact info. Please, if you can, help him stop blaming himself. And please don't tell him that I sent you this. Thank you.

-Nalah Butler

Shepard re-read the message a few times. It made her heart ache to read it; she knew Garrus was blaming himself for what had happened, and that there was plenty more neither she nor this other woman knew about what had happened. It also hurt to read about how desperately this stranger missed her husband, and how selfless she must be to not place any blame on Garrus' shoulders. Shepard felt a pang of guilt: she still had Garrus, but this woman had lost the love of her life.

She saved the message and scrolled through the rest of her inbox. Most of the messages were from reporters on the Citadel asking for exclusive interviews. Once the news had broken of her return, they had started flooding in. She'd asked Kelly to delete as many as she could, but they came in with such volume and frequency that it was impossible for her to get to all of them. There were also some messages from the Council: one thanking her for her discretion, another as a joint effort with the Alliance, asking her to align her schedule with theirs in an effort to plan some sort of gala to bolster confidence through her presence. She archived the message with some annoyance; it seemed the price of Spectre status was playing puppet for the Council so they could make money and comfort people. As if she had time to drop everything she was doing for them. She decided she would let them press the issue before she responded.

The last messages in her inbox were from old friends, a welcome sight after all the junk she'd waded through so far. She read Liara's first.

Shepard,

How is Garrus doing? It seems like Omega was hard on him. I'm glad you found him when you did. I saw your face on the news the other day, it's all anyone's been talking about. I'm still having a hard time reconciling that you're alive. I know you're busy and I've already asked once, but please come and see me. I miss you. And Garrus too. I have so much to think about these days, but it's funny, I feel a little safer knowing the galaxy has you to protect it again.

By the way, Joker says you have some big news for me? He wouldn't say what it was, but kept repeating that it would 'blow my mind'. I hate that phrase. If you can't visit soon, we should set up a time to chat on the comm link. I'm anxious to know the news.

Missing you. –L

Shepard sighed. She should have guessed Joker would tell them. She imagined the remaining two messages, from Tali and Wrex, were along similar lines, though she had messaged Tali when they had first found Garrus and hadn't heard back from her yet. She was relieved to finally see her reply.

Shepard,

I'm doing okay, sorry it took so long to reply: I've been in an area with poor comm uplinks.

So glad to hear Garrus is okay. We've all been worried about what happened to him. I was so worried he might be dead. I can't believe he was on Omega this whole time. Tell that bosh'tet he's lucky you found him. When I'm in an area with more reliable comm service we should chat. Keelah, I still can't believe you're alive.

Joker messaged me the other day. He said you and Garrus had big news. He also sent me a link to an extranet site selling vibrating enviro-suit upgrades. Please smack him for me when you see him. Hopefully I get a chance to see the new Normandy and I can smack him myself.

I'll let you know when I'm in an area with better service. Keelah se'lai.

-Tali

Shepard was about to open Wrex's message when Garrus walked in. He smiled at the sight of her and sat down on the couch, pushing his back against the armrest and making space for her between his legs. She sidled up against him and he brushed his mandibles against the top of her head.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

"Just checking my messages. Joker told the old crew we had 'big news for them'. I guess I should have been more specific about who he kept quiet to."

"Well, they are our friends. I guess they deserve to know," Garrus shrugged. "Though I would have preferred telling them on our own time."

She nodded in agreement. Before she opened Wrex's message, she told Garrus about Mordin's updates. He was as impressed and relieved as she had been. They discussed it for a moment and then he nodded at her omni-tool.

"What did Wrex have to say about Joker's message?"

"I was just about to find out," she looked at the message and sighed. The subject line read:

SHEPARD, GARRUS TURNED YOU BLUE WITH THAT POLE OF HIS YET?

"Charming," Garrus said.

She opened the message and read it out loud to Garrus.

Shepard, you son of a bitch. Can't believe you're really alive. Sorry I missed Garrus' comm call. Tuchanka's notorious for bad reception and I haven't upgraded my comm link in years. Glad you found that pyjak before he got himself killed. Omega? What was he thinking? My krogan influence clearly rubbed off on him, HA! Apparently half the galaxy is shitting itself over your return. They should be. I'm sure you've found out that the Council hasn't done anything in your absence. If I wasn't so busy on Tuchanka I'd be on the Citadel helping you knock some heads. You should drop by if you have time. It's a shit heap, but it's home.

Got a message from Joker saying you and Garrus had big news. I wish I could see his face when he reads my response. I'm assuming the big news is that Garrus is sticking it to you hard between the sheets with that ugly blue cock of his. I still think you could do better. Try to catch Joker while he's reading my message and send me a pic. And if you get tired of Garrus, I know a few krogan here on Tuchanka who'd give you a run for your money.

Try not to get killed again. –Wrex

Shepard couldn't help but laugh. The message was so very…Wrex. All of the messages reminded her how much she missed her old crew. She was gradually warming up to the new occupants on her new ship, but they would never be able to replace the bond she had with her former ground squad.

"Good to see Wrex hasn't changed," Garrus said, draping an arm over her stomach as he held her against him.

"Isn't this nice? A little moment of peace," Shepard sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

"It is," Garrus agreed.

They lay there for a moment, staring out the window. Shepard wondered if Garrus had as many thoughts running through his mind as she did. He probably did, if she knew him at all. The message from his squad mate's wife was sitting at the forefront of her thoughts; the losses he'd suffered on Omega had been deeply personal. She wouldn't bring it up though, they'd made enough headway on their relationship for one day; she didn't want to push it.

Several minutes of relaxing silence had passed when, quite suddenly, a person appeared out of thin air in front of the window. The waves in the air around her suggested she'd been using her omni-tool to form a cloaking veil. She stood before them, face partially shaded by a black hood pulled over her head, a single dark line of lipstick running down the center of her lips. She was decked out in black attire, made of material designed for absorbing sound. She smiled at them.

"That's sweet. I think I like it here," the mystery woman said, crossing her arms.

Shepard leaped up and Garrus nearly toppled over in his rush to stand.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my ship?" Shepard demanded.

"Kasumi Goto, the greatest thief you've never heard of," the woman replied. "Cerberus ensured me you'd read my dossier."

Shepard's heart was pounding from the adrenaline rush of the surprise. It took her a moment to remember the master thief's dossier. She blinked at Kasumi, her mouth slightly ajar.

"How long have you been on my ship?" She demanded.

"Since you docked at the Citadel," Kasumi shrugged. "I wanted to observe the crew, see how you captain the ship. Cerberus is paying me handsomely, but I never take a job without figuring out if it's a good fit first. But I've decided I like you, Shepard. I think I'll stay."

"You can't just sneak onto my ship and invite yourself to stay!" Shepard growled.

"Okay, throw me out the airlock then," Kasumi shrugged.

Shepard rubbed her forehead. "I'm not going to throw you out the airlock."

"We should take her with us on Korlus," Garrus suggested. "See if she can pull her weight."

"Feel free," the thief smiled. "If you don't like me, we'll part ways. It's not like I need the credits."

Shepard was still reeling from the fact that this tiny, strange woman had been hiding on her ship for the past few days. "Okay…fine. You can stay for now. But if I don't like how you work, you're out."

She knew they could probably use Kasumi's skills, but she was so rattled by the way she had shown up that she wasn't sure she could trust the woman.

"Wait…have you been staying in here this whole time?" Shepard asked, a red flush creeping up her neck. She recalled that a few days early she and Garrus had snuck into the observation deck during the night shift, locked the door, and he had bent her over the side of the couch in an extremely explicit display.

Kasumi grinned. "Yes, why?" she asked innocently.

"Oh my God," Shepard groaned. "I'll let you stay if you never say anything to the rest of the crew about what you saw."

Garrus seemed to finally connect what was happening. His mouth came open, mandibles flaring with embarrassment.

Kasumi traced her fingers in a cross over her chest. "Promise."

"Garrus, let's…leave Kasumi to get settled in."

"Sounds good, nice to meet you, er…sorry, also," Garrus said quickly.

He and Shepard hurried from the room, both of them so embarrassed they felt like they could die.