Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1 - Spacewalk

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Looking across the dark strip of space between the Normandy’s airlock and the opened cargo bay of the asari transport, Shepard swallowed thickly. Before her first ship went down, spacewalks had never spooked her, hell she was a spacer by birth, damn it! This 20-metre jump with a tether shouldn’t phase her in the slightest.

But somehow it did. The Commander’s stomach flip-flopped as she gazed out into the open vacuum. Stars flicked at the edge of her vision and made her world spin. Stupidly, she looked down into the void instead of straight across the gap. She took a step back, deeper into the safety of the Normandy.

“We can find another way, Shepard,” Garrus said at her side as he bumped his shoulder into hers. Even through the comm, she could hear the reassuring buzz of his subvocals. He must’ve swapped to their private channel, no way he’d let anyone else hear his voice as soft as it was now. He’d joked too many times about his reputation as the big-bad-Archangel. “You don’t have to go.”

She shook her head to clear it. “No. I-- I’ve got this.” Shepard closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. She held it for a moment before letting the air waft out into her helmet and fog her visor for a brief second. “Okay.”

Garrus’ steady presence stabilized her, and when she leapt, he was at her side. Weightlessness lasted a bare ten seconds before they slammed into the artificial gravity of the asari ship. She landed hard, her knees buckling as she hit the deck.

“All right, Commander?” Miranda asked in her ear as she held out a hand to help her rise. The ex-Cerberus Operative had leaped first, and Shepard had watched her gracefully land on her feet, rather than stumble.

“Fine.” Shepard took Miranda’s hand and stood. “Thanks.” She turned in time to see Garrus closing the doors behind them and watch him engaging the safety protocols. Anxiety rose in her throat as he fiddled with the controls. “Is it breathable yet?”

“Good to go,” Garrus announced when the light blinked green, and an audible alarm sounded off to let them know the bay had pressurized.

In a second, Shepard had her helmet off, and she took a long, deep breath of the stale air. “Oh, that’s better. I do not like that at all. Nope. Nuh-uh.”

Garrus walked over and put his hand on her shoulder before squeezing gently. Shepard couldn’t help but turn into his embrace. One hand found the back of her neck while the other reached up to remove his helmet. “You’re all right, Shepard. Just breathe.” They stood wrapped together for a while until Shepard’s heart stopped pounding quite so hard in her ears. Having her partner’s even breathing to match herself to, helped. “That’s it,” he cooed warmly in her ear, making her smile.

Meanwhile, Shepard could hear Miranda moving about the area. Her heels clicked against the decking as she checked for survivors. They’d answered a distress beacon from the Akkeema a few hours ago. The Normandy had been the only ship in range. When they arrived, no one answered the comms, so Shepard took it upon herself to investigate. Scans didn’t show any life signs, but she couldn’t in good conscience leave them, not when her crew had waited for rescue a lifetime ago.

A good Spacer never left anyone behind.

“Okay.” Shepard disengaged herself from the embrace. He let go easily enough, but she lamented the lack of warmth almost immediately. “Let’s go--”

“Commander!” Miranda yelled from the other end of the cargo bay. She and Garrus sprinted over with weapons out only to find Miranda on her Omni-tool, leaning over some sort of pink mould. “Get your helmets on!” she snapped upon looking up at the pair. Even behind the thick Cerberus-branded helmet visor, Shepard could see her glare.

The Commander didn’t think she’d ever slammed her helmet on so fast, and she could hear her partner doing the same thing. She hovered over Miranda’s shoulder. “Shit, what is that?”

Garrus had his ‘tool out now too, and he took a scan. “Nothing good,” he hummed. “I’ll send a sample to Mordin for analysis. Maybe he knows.”

Helmets now securely fastened, the trio explored the rest of the ship. They didn’t find any survivors. It hardly took ten minutes to search both decks, storage units and all. They could account for all the cargo, and while the two asari aboard the ship had passed on, neither appeared physically harmed. Miranda turned off power to the emergency beacon when they reached the cockpit. There was no use leaving it on now.

“Commander,” Mordin’s voice piped in over the comms. “Found a match for mould. Prognosis not good. Appears to be a toxic variety, airborne spores. Very dangerous. Must not inhale.”

Shepard shared a look with Garrus.

“How dangerous, Mordin?” she asked, pressing a finger to her comm unit.

“Lethal, given enough time. Mould from Tuchanka, harbours virus that causes pathogenic infection in asari, humans, turians, but not, oddly, salarians. Varren immune also.”

Again, her stomach dropped and damn Mordin for choosing this moment to give her single sentence answers. Usually, it took minutes to find a place to interrupt his rants. “How much time?”

“Few days. Good news, curable. Bad news, extremely contagious. Should return to the ship. Airlock decontamination cycle sufficient to remove spores from armour. No danger to ground team in hard-suits.”

“What--” she swallowed. “What if we breathed the air?”

Mordin sniffed sharply in the way he did when he disapproved of something. “Breathed air? Would be bad, Shepard. Very bad. Require quarantine measures, medication, clean room. May take weeks to cure.”

“Quarantine?” Shepard scoffed, stuck on the word. “What do you mean, quarantine?”

“Actually VERY interesting phenomenon. One of few viruses to cause sneezing in krogan--"

"MORDIN!"

“Right. Treatment is known, antivirals fabricating as we speak.”

"I'm beginning to think he does that on purpose," Garrus said as he put his hand on her shoulder. It did nothing to soothe Shepard’s worries.

---

Setting the Akkeema up as a quarantine site made the most sense. There was no reason to risk contaminating the Normandy, and it gave Shepard and Garrus the most space to move around rather than being confined to just the loft. While the ship wasn’t frigate-sized, it gave them access to all the amenities they’d need: sleeping quarters, a kitchen, the cargo bay to exercise, and the cockpit for sitting around.

It would be enough for just the two of them. Thankfully Miranda had kept her helmet securely fastened instead of hastily removing it as Shepard had. She felt bad enough that Garrus had taken his helmet off to comfort her, she would have felt even worse had Miranda done the same, too.

Mordin came aboard and, along with Miranda, they cleaned the ship of all traces of spores and mould. They removed the bodies, too and notified the Asari Republic of their status. Doctor Chakwas performed medicals on both Shepard and Garrus via vid-comm, as she would do every day until she cleared them to return home. It could take up to fourteen days for any signs of illness to show, Karin had told them.

Mordin vaccinated them against the virus, but they would have to be isolated for a full two weeks to ensure they didn’t get anyone else sick and the vaccine took.

Supplies were shipped over, and contingency plans created. At least they didn’t have anywhere to be just yet. The crew had destroyed the Collector base, repaired the Normandy, and left the Cerberus name in the dirt-- where it belonged. Other than the looming threat of Reapers somewhere along the horizon, they had nowhere to be.

“That’s it then, Commander,” Miranda said as she packed up the last of the cleaning gear. “Is there anything else you need?”

“You’ll be right next door.” Shepard tried and failed to smile. “Take care of the Normandy until I get back, all right?”

“Of course, Shepard.” Miranda’s hand landed on her shoulder for a brief moment before the woman stepped away and headed for the Normandy. When the airlock closed, Shepard and Garrus were left alone and quarantined for the foreseeable future.

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Chapter Text

Chapter 2 - Bounce

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Why there had been a rubber band ball in the toolkit, Shepard would never know. What she did know is that she was grateful for the damn thing. The sound of it thunking against the opposite wall before it bounced back satisfied her to no end. It whirred through the air as it returned and thunked again as she tossed it.

It was day two, and Shepard was confident she was going to go mad anytime now.

Thunk. Whirr. Thunk. Whirr.

While living on starships had been Shepard’s life, in recent years, there had always been something to keep her moving. Sure, as a marine, she played the waiting game, but the payoff usually came with a bang. Then there was Saren and the geth. And after that, the Collectors. Now, there was only the ever-impending thought of Reapers. 

It was a good thing she wasn’t a sniper, Shepard decided. She couldn’t bear the thought of waiting in a nest for her enemies to show. Her bull-headed personality matched her vanguard skill-set well.

Thunk. Whirr. Thunk. Whirr.

With so little time to breathe, one would think a break was in order. Instead, Shepard felt restless. She adjusted her position against the wall between tosses of her rubber ball. Her legs felt stiff from lunges earlier, and there was an ache in her calf from who-knows-what. Her mouth quirked to the side, or maybe it had been the leap between ships. The ball went wide and bounced twice before rolling down the hall.

She sighed and dropped her head back against the bulkhead to stare aimlessly at the ceiling. Now what?

Shepard heard a chuckle before the familiar thunk of her rubber ball came bouncing down the hall toward her-- aimed at her head. She caught it with her biotics before it could get within a metre. Samara had been teaching her control techniques between missions. It felt good to put that skill to use even if it was for something so silly as making a ball float.

“You’re slipping, Shepard,” Garrus said as he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his keel. His lopsided grin at her was warm and fond. “Usually, you get to thirty before you lose your ball.”

Laughing, she tossed it back at him. He caught it before it could hit him in the nose. “Said like someone who thinks they can do better,” she challenged.

His eyes lit up, she could see it even behind his visor, and he tossed the ball into the air and caught it a few times. “Oh, I am certain of it.”

“Shut up or put up, Garrus.”

“You’re on.”

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Chapter Text

Chapter 3- Hot Bunk

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On the first day, Shepard had the thought upon seeing sleeping quarters that they were going to have a problem. Now, on the morning of day three, it was apparent they had an issue.

She stood in the doorway leaning back into her hip with her arms crossed over her chest as she watched Garrus sleep well past his shift. There was only one bed, one tiny bed, and they’d agreed to sleep in shifts rather than on top of one another-- however appealing that sounded.

‘Turian’s don’t need as much sleep as humans,’ Garrus told her.

All evidence now suggested either he slept particularly long for a turian or Shepard, particularly short for a human. She sighed and watched him for a while longer before giving up and heading below deck to explore the ship a little more. Sleep could wait. She didn’t much feel like it yet regardless.

Her travels led her down the ladder and into the cargo bay.

Among all the food stores, dextro and levo alike, Shepard managed to find a few things that would keep them busy: a projector, an unopened set of datapads to imprint, and a couple of free weights. But the most exciting thing she found was a survival kit.

Giddy, Shepard dug through the crash kit and had her little eureka moment as she pulled out an air mattress. Knowing asari held comfort as paramount meant that it would be resistant to puncture, so as long as they threw a blanket over it, it would be safe from Garrus’ spurs and other pointy bits. She looked in the kit again and triumphantly pulled out a sleeping bag.

They were all set.

Carrying her bounty up the ladder, Shepard found Garrus just stepping out of the sleeping quarters. He looked sleep lagged without his visor on, and he was rubbing his eyes as she stepped up in front of him.

“Overslept, sorry,” he mumbled as he pulled her against his chest. A considerable yawn showed off all his teeth.

Shepard allowed herself to be cocooned by his arms as he dropped his chin to the top of her head and leaned into her. He smelled like sleep and warmth.

“No worries, Big Guy,” she said affectionately as she stepped away. “I’ve got a solution.”

He made an inquiring noise and followed her as she dragged the gear past him. The mattress started to inflate itself through some sort of mass effect technology the moment it hit the floor, and Shepard busied herself unfurling the sleeping bag. She tossed it over the top as the mattress reached fullness. It took up nearly the entire space, but now they could sleep together.

“See?” 

“Hmm,” his hum was long and drawn out. Garrus stepped past her and tossed the pillows from the cot to their new bed. “Maybe we should, you know… try it out?”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Shepard said through a yawn.

Garrus pulled her down to the mattress and back into his arms. Before he’d managed to finish covering them with a blanket, she was starting to drift, and by the time he placed a gentle kiss on her brow, Shepard had fallen asleep.

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Chapter Text

Chapter 4- Stargazing

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Shepard sat in the cockpit, staring out at the stars.

The Akkeema drifted around the third planet in some tiny system far away from society. She’d wrapped herself in a blanket and curled in tight on herself. The ship always seemed to be a few degrees too cold. Shepard supposed that is what came with asari engineering, but at least it wasn’t a Palavani ship. While you could always put on layers, Shepard knew she wouldn’t appreciate the alternative.

A long, drawn-out sigh fell into the cabin from deep in her chest as she buried her nose in the blanket. It smelled like Garrus, and that made her smile. If she had to be stuck with someone, she was damn glad it was him. To think, Miranda could have taken her helmet off too and been stuck with them. 

Now that would have been awkward.

Garrus must’ve been off tuning the weapon’s system or something. Shepard listened but couldn’t hear him moving around on this level of the ship. It wasn’t a large vessel, just enough for two floors with a galley on the lower level beside the cargo bay and sleeping quarters aloft with the cockpit. The drive core and life-support systems whirred away in the background. The sound was comforting in a way, though she missed the purr of the Normandy all the more.

From birth, she’d lived on a fair number of ships. Her mother kept her close until she left for the academy, so she’d seen many military vessels. Shepard’s favourite growing up had been the SSV Einstein. Although, that was perhaps only because Shepard remembered having the most friends on the carrier. Her first kiss had been on that ship, with a boy named Alex from her biotics class. She caught herself smiling and rolled her eyes. At the time, Shepard thought they were so sneaky. A lie. There was no sneaking on a starship.

A blip of light caught Shepard’s eye.

She leaned forward far enough to check the passive scanners and see it was a single surveillance satellite orbiting the nearby planet-- nothing concerning. Not that she needed to be worried, the Normandy rested a few hundred kilometres away. It would be there until her mandatory quarantine finished, whenever that managed to occur.

Another forlorn sound left her lips, and Shepard curled deeper into herself. And again, it was Garrus’ chuckle that brought her out of the melancholy mood. “Cold, Shepard?”

She twisted to look around the edge of the pilot’s seat. Garrus stood in the doorway, two steaming mugs in hand. “A little.” She eyed the drinks and then glanced up to see her favourite smile on Garrus’ face, the one with lopsided mandibles.

It only took him three steps to cross the space between them, and Shepard reached out to meet his touch as he held out her drink. His hands were warm even through his gloves.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, contented, around the rim. A burst of sweet peppermint filled her nose as she breathed in the steam.

Garrus hummed in reply and took the seat beside her. He had just enough room from the navigator’s chair to cross one ankle over the opposing knee, and he joined her in silence to stare out at the stars for a while.

Warmth spread through Shepard from her fingers to her toes. She took a furtive glance in her periphery to see her partner at peace beside her. With all their months together chasing after Saren and then the Collectors, Shepard didn’t think they’d ever have time to just-- breathe. 

While quarantine could be infuriatingly dull at times, there was something to be said for taking a moment to smell the peppermint and enjoy one another’s company among the stars.

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Chapter Text

Chapter 5 - Lazy Sunday

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Even without an alarm clock, Shepard woke at the crack of dawn. Or at least what passed as dawn on a starship. Too many years of military precision and routine had long since broken her of the ability to sleep past 0600 unless she’d been out running a mission, and even then, she would usually find herself sleep lagged and wandering the ship in search of caffeine on those days.

Today, however, Shepard wouldn’t trade it for a world without Reapers.

Beneath her cheek, Garrus purred with the sounds of a turian in a deep sleep. The slow rise and fall of his chest were timed lazily around the double beat of his heart. While it sounded nothing like the steady rhythm of a human’s heartbeat, Shepard loved it all the same.

The room remained dark, with just enough light sneaking in underneath the door so she could see his silhouette as her eyes adjusted to the low light. Moments like this made her miss the aquarium in her quarters. The soft blue tint would bathe him in a glow in the earliest hours of the day or the latest at night.

He was bare to the waist while she wore only a tank top and panties, and she soaked up his heat. His plates were not as hard as she’d first expected. They were malleable enough to be comfortable to sleep pressed up against and were smooth. Without heavy plating around his waist, he could almost be considered soft there-- not that she’d ever say it aloud. 

She nuzzled in deeper and hummed content.

There was no reason to get out of bed. Shepard wasn’t hungry yet, and nature’s call wasn’t desperate. She could enjoy the simplicity that other couples were able to in the early mornings, without the galaxy hounding her. Closing her eyes, she could almost pretend they were in an apartment together somewhere, maybe the Citadel, Garrus had lived there before following her, after all. Perhaps he still had a flat tucked away where they could be domestic together.

“You’re thinking too loud, Shepard,” Garrus said, his voice thick with sleep.

“No, I’m not.”

His hand rose, and Garrus started running his fingers through her hair. It only took a few strokes for her to melt into him. The crease in her brow she didn’t know was there, faded away.

“Okay, maybe I was.”

“Mm-hm.” The silence that had come over the room when Garrus awoke began to disappear again as his sleepy purr restarted. His hand left her hair and wandered down to trace lazy circles across her shoulder blades. “Want to talk about it?”

She felt foolish already for waking him up, and Shepard didn’t want to bother him with her fantasies too. So instead, she said: “It’s silly.”

Garrus pushed himself up on one elbow as he rolled her onto her back. His fingertip wove a new path along her collarbones now. “Then, I definitely want to hear it.”

“All right.” Shepard couldn’t help but smile up at him. His tone might’ve been teasing, but she could hear how genuine it was too. “Do you still have an apartment on the Citadel?”

His head tilted to the side, much like one would expect to see from a confused animal rather than your boyfriend, and his hand stopped moving. “Yes. It’s in Shalta. Why?”

She shrugged. “I imagined that we were there, instead. You know, like normal people, enjoying a lazy Sunday.” At his narrowed eyes, she explained further, “Like a weekend, or day off.”

One of his brow plates rose. “I know what a Sunday is, Shepard.”

“Oh. Well, then what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing.” His mandible flicked out in a smile. “I just never thought about it like that. I, uh, didn’t take many days off while working for C-Sec. I don’t think I’ve ever had a, what did you call it, a lazy Sunday?”

Shepard grinned and gently poked his nose. “I think we’ll have one today then.”

“Just like that, huh?”

“Yep,” she popped the ‘p’ at the end of the word.

He chuckled before laying back down and this time, putting his head on her chest. It didn’t take long before she had him purring under her hands as she gently caressed his fringe. “So, what else do these entail?”

“Hm. Well, usually staying in your pyjamas and having something sweet for breakfast. No work, no calibrating--” he mumbled something about never living that down, and Shepard giggled. “--Maybe we’ll watch movies or play games or read. There’s nothing we have to do today.”

“I think,” he nuzzled into her chest. “I like the sound of that.”

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Chapter Text

Chapter 6 - Strategy

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“So,” Garrus hummed and picked up one of the tiny pieces of plastic with the tips of his talons. “Remind me again; the small ones are pawns?”

Shepard nodded and continued to set up the board. “Right, and they can move one square forward at a time or two squares the first time.” She demonstrated. “Like this.”

“Hm.”

“And to take another piece, they move diagonally.” Shepard slid the piece on the board and knocked over one of the black pawns. She left out the en passant maneuver for the moment, more because she couldn’t remember exactly how it worked herself. “See?”

Nearly a week into their quarantine and they were both beginning to get restless. While Garrus appeared to be managing a little better than she was, Shepard still noticed him pacing more often than usual, which was why she’d decided to get his mind off calibrating the ship and into something else, something new. They sat across the small kitchen table from one another. Kelly sent the chess set along with their most recent supplies shipment from the Normandy.  

It had been years since she’d played chess, but her mother made her learn. Hannah always enjoyed strategy games, while she failed to pass on that love to her daughter, Shepard at least remembered how to play.

“Did you need me to review any of the others?” she asked while adjusting her rook back into the middle of its square.

Garrus looked up from the pawn in his hand, mandibles fluttering. “I’ll figure it out as we go.”

“Suit yourself.” Shepard began the game by moving her king’s pawn to the centre of the board before settling in with her hands folded in front of her face as she waited for Garrus to reply. He responded in kind and soon, the game was well underway.

The first round ended up being more of a tutorial. Shepard spent more time demonstrating moves than she did making them. When Garrus would start to put his piece down in a place where she could take it, she’d make a noise, and he’d quickly reevaluate and make a different move. In the end, most of their players were removed from play, and it took ten minutes for Shepard to finally pin Garrus’ king into a corner with a pawn and her last remaining knight.

“Nice work, Shepard.” Garrus started to put the pieces back into their starting positions. “I think I’ve got it figured out now.”

She eyed him skeptically, considering how often she needed to remind him that he wanted to keep his queen safe, he’d tried to kill her off six times. “All right,” she said. “Round two, it is.”

And what a mistake that was. 

Shepard quickly found herself trapped in a corner by the same queen Garrus spent the last game trying to get killed and a bishop. He grinned, and Shepard called for a third round. Yet again, her partner trounced her. 

At the end of the round, to signal her defeat, she chucked her king at his head. It hit him square in the crest and only made him laugh harder.

“That’s not very sportsmanlike, Shepard!”

“I’ll show you sportsmanlike!”

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Chapter Text

Chapter 7 - Fire!

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Shepard dozed lightly in the pilot’s seat. After her morning spar with Garrus, and without anything else to keep herself busy, she’d no reason not to take a short nap. In the past two days, Garrus had managed to get the environmental settings to work a little better, now the main cabin at least held twenty-one degrees celsius instead of eighteen.

The blanket pooled around her hips as she leaned back in the captain’s chair and put her feet up on the console. Her arms crossed comfortably across her middle. Blissfully, Shepard’s mind was silent this afternoon. A pleasant smell in the background squashed thoughts of impending doom, and she let herself drift. 

Only to be awoken by the sound of an alarm blaring. That wasn’t what Shepard planned on, not even in the slightest. She damn near hit the floor.

A dancer’s grace, Shepard did not have. But what she lacked in finesse, Shepard made up for in speed. She could smell something burning now as she sprinted for the ladder and saw a tiny wisp of smoke as she slid down the rails. Fires did not go well with starships. Her heart clenched with dread as she remembered the last time she’d smelled smoke.

“Garrus!” she yelled as she ran. “Garrus!”

Her partner was swearing, and then Shepard heard the sound of a fire extinguisher going off. The alarm continued to blare as she skidded to a stop behind him in the kitchen.

“What the--” Shepard grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back enough to see the charred remains of something on a cookie sheet. “Are you okay?” she half-yelled over the alarm.

“Fine,” he buzzed, obviously annoyed with himself. He half-turned, and Shepard could see his civi’s dusted with white powder and the countertop strewn with dishes. He raised his arm and shut off the alarm, leaving behind ringing in Shepard’s ears. He sighed heavily and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

Shepard stepped around him, taking stock of the damage to the heating unit. It seemed all right. The tray had received most of the extinguisher blast. “Garrus, are these cookies?”

He looked away, and she could see the embarrassment flooding to his face with the blue flush on his throat and by how his mandibles twitched with agitation. “Not anymore.”

“Levo cookies?” She picked one of the charred bits up and sniffed. It smelled vaguely like peanut butter underneath the burnt. “Garrus--”

Waving her off, Garrus headed for the opposing wall to put the fire extinguisher away. “Sorry, I’d seen Gardner do it once before. It didn’t look that hard, but apparently,” he gestured to the mess he’d made, “it is a little more difficult than I imagined. I don’t even know what went wrong.”

“Show me the recipe?” Garrus lifted his wrist, and with a sigh, he pressed a few keys. What came up on Shepard’s Omni-tool was a photo of an old hand-written recipe on cardstock. There were grease smudges in the words, marring the blue ink. “How did you even read this?”

“I can make out your common alphabet, matching the words with what’s on the packaging wasn’t too difficult.” He shrugged and pointed to the container marked ‘flour.’ “What I don’t get is why it burned. I set the heat like it said at 350.”

A small smile crossed her face, and Shepard looked down at the card again. “Fahrenheit or Celsius?”

His head tilted to the side. “Fahren-what?”

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Chapter Text

Chapter 8 - Sparring

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The cargo bay made an excellent sparring ring with ample space for Shepard and Garrus to dance around one another. They’d had mats shipped over and laid them down to give them space to workout while quarantined. Doctor Chakwas encouraged them to keep fit as both a means to stave off boredom while keeping their immune systems healthy.

An electric rock album blared from the ship speakers and with the lights turned up to full brightness, Shepard could almost convince herself they were in the Normandy’s bay instead of the Akkeema’s. It felt good to break a sweat; she could already feel a bead running down the length of her spine under her tank top.

Shepard dodged out of the way, narrowly missing a strong right hook. “Too slow!”

“I’ll show you too slow!” Garrus lunged and grabbed her around the waist, causing Shepard to squeak. He laughed and took her right down to the mats.

But the Commander wasn’t having any of that. As he tried to adjust his grip, she slipped out from his grasp and was already back on her feet. She bounced on her toes, breathing heavily. 

Coming up swinging, Garrus followed her, and they danced around the mat at a comfortable rhythm. Neither one of them was looking to hurt the other or end their little game just yet. This time, it was Shepard who came in with a set of jabs. Garrus artfully blocked them and tried to kick out Shepard’s leg only to be brought down as she tripped him up on his spur.

His knee impacted the ground, and Shepard tried to get behind him.

Again, she underestimated his range and Garrus managed to grab her arm to toss her over his shoulder before she could get a hold of him.

As she laid in front of him, trying to get her breath back, she laughed. “Nice one.”

Garrus’ mandible flicked into a cocky grin. “You know it.” He stood and reached down to help her up. “Go again?”

Shepard took his hand, but instead of getting to her feet, she tugged hard, and as he stumbled, she caught him with her foot at his hip and flipped him right over her head. He came down hard with an ‘oomph’ and Shepard used the momentum to roll backward and get on top of him.

Now, it was her turn to grin down at him. She pinned his wrists and squeezed his sides with her thighs. “Always, Vakarian.”

He tried for a brief moment to dislodge her, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best. “You’ve done it. I’m pinned.” His head tilted back to display his throat playfully to her.

“Do I win a prize?” her eyebrows rose almost into her hairline.

“A prize, eh?” Garrus gave her an appreciative glance from head to waist. “I suppose we could have a tiebreaker, you know, back in my quarters?”

Shepard was on her feet in a second with Garrus quick on her heels. Their laughter echoed off the walls of the Akkeema and brought life to the tiny ship.

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Chapter Text

Chapter 9 - Movie Night

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Having a boyfriend with superior hacking skills would always be one of Shepard’s most favourite things. While he was wonderfully useful planetside for cracking safes and on the ship calibrating the guns, the biggest payoff thus far was a-- highly illegal-- copy of the newest Blasto film.

Shepard snuggled up in Garrus’ arms. They’d made the bed into a lounge with some extra pillows . Together, they curled up beneath a blanket and used the projector Shepard found days ago to put the video onto the wall. Otherwise, it was pitch black. Shepard felt a sense of nostalgia setting up the room like this. It reminded her of her younger days when she was a carefree adolescent, only interested in watching movies and practicing her biotics. 

She hoped Garrus felt the same way. Side-eying him, Shepard could see a relaxed smile on his face. It felt nice to see him without his visor on too. He wore it less around her now than before. While chasing the Collectors, it had been a constant on his face.

The popcorn was long gone, as were the weird crunchy ant-like bugs Garrus thoroughly enjoyed in the first half of the film. Blasto stood triumphant on the screen, four pistols in his tentacles and one ‘foot’ on top of the notorious Doctor Nefarious’ behind. The movie was so bad, it was funny. They both laughed through most of it, commenting on the terrible action choreography.

While Shepard was all for diversity in film, it still felt strange to watch a hanar wielding guns. In all her time as a marine, she’d never once seen it. Garrus stated he’d only seen a hanar fight once, and that had been some random squabble on Omega between a batarian doomsday preacher and a hanar casino owner. The uncanny always found Omega, it seemed.

Regardless, it felt good to laugh. Shepard found moments like these in such short supply on the Normandy since she’d woken up on Minuteman station. Maybe this quarantine could be useful for something, after all.

“How the heck does that even work?” Garrus grumbled as Blasto pulled his asari costar into his arms and somehow carried her out of prison. 

The asari swooned, and Shepard mocked the acting by doing the same. She stretched out in Garrus’ lap with the back of one hand on her forehead. “She’s a damsel in distress, Garrus!”

He chuckled and tugged Shepard fully onto his lap in the same bridal-style carry that Blasto was using. “You’re a damsel now too?”

Shepard scoffed even as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kicked one foot out into a point. “Never. I’m the one saving damsels from their sniper perches, remember?”

“Oh! Well, then.” He dumped her onto the mattress beside him. “In that case,” he put his hand in the same position as she had and attempted a feminine voice. “Save me, Shepard!” 

Neither of them could keep a straight face about it for more than a few seconds. They were both laughing their asses off as the credits rolled.

- - -

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Chapter Text

Chapter 10 - Vid-call

---

“You didn’t!”

“You bet your ass I did, Shepard.” Joker grinned at her from the other side of their video conference before he adjusted the camera. “Little guy’s been missing you!”

“Stormy!” A tiny squeak made its way over the air, and Shepard watched as her pet hamster ran in a circle in his cage. Joker had outdone himself. He’d rigged a camera so she could check up on him whenever she liked. “This is a perfect surprise. Thank you!”

Half of the screen split into Joker’s face as he adjusted the settings on his end, and the other half was the cage angled so Shepard could see the aquarium in the background. “It’s all set. You can tune in whenever you like.” He stepped further into the cabin. “All your fish are good too. Kelly’s been feeding them.”

Joker’s camera feed panned to the aquarium wall so that Shepard could see her fish swimming away behind the reinforced glass. “Hi, fish!”

She could hear Joker laughing. But Shepard didn’t give a shit. She’d completely forgotten about her fish more than once and had to replace the entire tank. To know that someone else was taking care when she couldn’t be there was a relief. Joker turned the screen back toward himself as he began the hobble back to the elevator.

“Thank you, Joker. Really.”

“Don’t even worry about it,” he waved her off and settled in against the wall for the trip down to the CIC. “Gave me something to do. Not like much is going on over here.”

Shepard hummed in understanding. While she and Garrus were quarantined, there wasn’t much the rest of the Normandy crew could be getting up to. They checked in regularly, and Shepard took regular calls with Miranda to go over ship reports. Jacob had been handling basic combat lessons for the remaining ex-Cerberus crew members with help from some of the ground team. Tali and the engineers were working on tweaking the fixes from being in drydock after jumping through the Omega-Four relay. 

Kasumi, Samara, and Thane had already taken their leave from the Normandy for other positions. She was sort of glad for the quarantine. It meant the others weren’t gone just yet. Shepard still had time with them, to enjoy their company instead of just fighting alongside them. The friendships built since her revival had been some of the best of her life. If she had to go back, Shepard knew she’d do it all over again just to be with this motley crew.

While she missed her SR-1 team, this group had become a surrogate family. From Karin’s mothering to Tali’s warm hugs and Jack’s constant bickering. Shepard had never felt more at home.

“Well, get better soon. All right?” Joker’s voice brought her out of her reverie. “If you’re there much longer, Jack might just mutiny over here.”

Laughing, Shepard promised that she’d do her best. “Stay safe, Jeff.”

“You too, Shepard.”

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Chapter Text

Chapter 11 - Working too hard

---

By the time Shepard finished her vid-conference with Miranda, her stomach had begun growling at her. Despite no longer working for Cerberus, the ex-agent continued to run the ship tight, and while Shepard was thankful she could entrust her crew to the woman in her absence, it also made for long days when things went awry.

The engineers hit a snag working on the shielding. It wasn’t something that couldn’t be fixed-- Tali, like most good quarians, could fix anything you threw at her-- but it would require the Normandy to leave their secluded hiding place for a day or two for tests.

She and Garrus could handle being alone. The Akkeema was fighting fit, or as fit as an old transport vessel could be, anyway. Miranda didn’t like it; however, leaving was the only way they could ensure the Normandy would be battle-ready when the quarantined lifted.

“We’ll be fine, Miranda.”

On the other side of the call, Miranda frowned. “It could wait--”

“No,” Shepard shook her head. “I want to get back to work. I can’t do that, not knowing if the shields will hold.”

“Understood,” she nodded. “We’ll keep in contact as long as we can. Normandy, out.”

Shepard leaned back as the screen went black and stretched her arms toward the ceiling, making her spine crack to her satisfaction. “Oh, that’s better.” Shepard closed her eyes and sighed before shaking out her hands in an attempt to relieve the tension in her shoulders. When she put her arms down, her stomach growled again. Dinner didn’t want to wait, it seemed.

Heading for the kitchen, Shepard pondered what to make. There were ration packs aplenty for both her and Garrus, and considering they’d already had one fire, Shepard didn’t want to test out her culinary skills. Skimming through the box, she decided on lasagna for herself and something that could have possibly passed as lasagna for Garrus. She didn’t dare read the ingredients. Turian food could turn her stomach on the best of days.

She set both packages in the heating apparatus as directed while fetching plates and utensils. At the very least, she could make it look like the meals were home-cooked. With the table set, Shepard busied herself with the small task of filling the washing unit with all of the accumulated mugs from around the ship. She hoarded cups on the Normandy, leaving half-finished tea dregs and water glasses around her workstation more often than she finished them. The Akkeema did not have an unlimited supply, so she’d tried to keep up more often. 

Reaching the cockpit on her search for dishes, Shepard found Garrus hard at work still. He sat in the navigator’s chair, hunched over a datapad. Even from a distance, she could see the deep creases around his eyes. She wasn’t the only one working too hard.

Knocking on the doorframe, Shepard announced her presence. “Hey, you.” 

“Hm,” he hummed and flicked his eyes up for a bare moment before returning his gaze to the datapad. Clearly, someone was engrossed.

Shepard glided across the cockpit and hovered over his shoulder. Gently, her hand landed on the back of his neck, and she rubbed at the tension she felt beneath her fingers. From this distance, she could read that it was a manual that occupied him. The formatting gave it away despite it being written in a turian language. 

Sighing, Garrus arched into her fingers. The datapad lowered and eventually landed on his lap as he closed his eyes. Getting her partner to purr only took a minute. “Feels nice,” he mumbled, reaching his free hand up to cover hers.

“Good.”

He breathed out in a huff like he thought it was funny.

“You know what else would be good?” she asked, leaning down to whisper the word: “Dinner.”

This time his laugh was full-bellied, and it teased a smile out of him. “Yeah. Dinner sounds great, Shepard. Thanks.”

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Chapter Text

Chapter 12 - Stretch

---

“How in the name of all the spirits do you even sit like that?” 

Shepard looked up from her cross-legged position in the middle of the bed and tilted her head to the side like she’d seen Garrus do so many times before. He looked infinitely perplexed, and to be honest, a little disgusted.

“Like what?” She asked, playing just a little coy.

“Like that!” Garrus pointed to her legs and then attempted to mime something approximating crossing your legs. “How do your hips move like that? Why do your hips even bend that way?”

Laughing, Shepard stood up without the use of her hands. His eyes went wide, and his mandibles hung down from his jaw. 

“Did you just?” He shook his head, flabbergasted. “Nevermind. Don’t explain.”

Shepard poked him in the nose and dropped her datapad back on the bed behind her. “It’s really not that weird, Garrus. All humans can do it, or we can as children anyway. If you want weird, I could show you some vids--”

“No! Nope, I’m good.” He trapped both her wrists between them to ensure she couldn’t access her tool or escape to grab the discarded datapad. 

Her laughter echoed out into the hallway. With just a tiny bit of pressure, she was able to break his hold and run her hands up the long panes of his chest. She grinned up at him before rising on her toes to leave a kiss on one fluttering mandible. “The look on your face is priceless. You’re lucky I didn’t have my Omni-tool ready. Otherwise, you’d be in so much trouble.” 

Clearing his throat, Garrus regained his composure. “Well, I suppose there are things we’ll have to get used to. I mean, you’re human and my girlfriend, and-- He stopped, suddenly realizing what he’d said. “I mean. Ah. Shit.”

He pulled back, and Shepard let him. The hide at his throat suddenly blossomed dark cobalt, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Garrus, calm down. It’s okay.” Her grin became a softer, more tentative smile. “I know we haven't discussed it yet. I just sort of assumed--”

“It’s okay,” he cut in and waved her off instead as he stepped back again. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yes, you should have.” He stared at her with his mouth agape again, only this time it wasn’t because of some silly human/turian misunderstanding, or at least she didn’t think it was. “Garrus, if there’s one person I could be happy about being quarantined with, it’s you.” She grabbed his hands before he could retreat any further from her and squeezed gently. “You’re my partner, and I’m lucky to have you.”

“So--” he drew out the word, his second voice warbling a little behind his primary. “You don’t mind?”

“Mind?” Shepard stifled her laugh and tugged him closer. Garrus came willingly and melted into her arms. She could feel the tension in him still and was determined to make it go away.  “Why the hell would I mind, Garrus? You do remember I’m the one who asked if you wanted to ‘blow off steam,’ right?” 

“Yes.” She felt him nod against her crown. 

“I don’t want a one-time thing, and it’s not just because we’re quarantined together, all right?” Shepard pulled back just enough to look up at her partner and stare into his steely-blue eyes. She could get lost in those eyes if she let herself. “There’s no one else. It’s just you and me. If ‘girlfriend’ is the term you like, that works for me.”

Slowly, she could feel his hand climb up her side until his thumb could caress her cheek. His fingers were rough, calloused from years of fighting, but she wouldn’t trade them for anything. Nor would she trade the feel of his mouth plates against her lips for something ‘closer to home.’ 

No, Shepard had made her choice long ago. They just hadn’t said those three words aloud yet, and with the girlfriend talk just finished, now wasn’t the right time. She felt her heart swell as they parted but remained close enough to share the same breath.

“I don’t want anyone else, either,” he murmured.

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Chapter Text

Chapter 13 - Fortress

---

Quarantine would be coming to a close soon. 

Shepard stretched in the pilot’s chair after shutting off her comm link with the Normandy. The ship had returned from her shields tests just an hour ago. The moment they were in range, Chakwas eagerly performed medicals via vid-call on each of her patients. Thus far, neither of them exhibited any signs of the virus.

If their vitals held steady, they could return home tomorrow.

There was an almost bittersweet edge to the thought of returning to the Normandy. While Shepard missed her crew-- and her comfortable bed-- she couldn’t help already beginning to lament the idea she wouldn’t be alone with Garrus for much longer. Here, on the Akkeema, she could pretend at lazy Sundays and forget the Reapers, if only for a little while.

Returning home meant it would be time to return to reality. A world where the Reapers stood on the Milky Way’s doorstep. While she had friends to help, there was an abundance of enemies who waited just beyond the horizon. The Council still refused to grant her an audience and the Alliance held her at arm’s length.

Soon, Shepard knew she would have to send her crew-- her family-- away to their respective homeworlds where maybe one of them could make a difference. If there was any hope of survival, Shepard knew the galaxy’s species would need to prepare and work together. They’d done it here already, turned xenophobic terrorists into best friends with aliens. If they could just make a dent--

“Shepard!”

The Commander was torn from her reverie, staring out into the black, by Garrus’ voice from down the hallway. She perked up and immediately lost her tumbling train of thought. 

“Hey, Shepard! Can you come down here a minute?”

“Coming!” she called back, hopping to her feet in short order. Garrus didn’t sound distressed, but curiosity had already taken hold, and she couldn’t resist jogging down the hall. When Shepard arrived at the sleeping quarters, the door was closed. “That’s odd.”

She pushed on the panel only to be greeted by a dark room. She could have sworn she’d heard Garrus’ voice come from in here. She stepped inside, her hands fumbling toward the room’s control panel.

“Garrus?”

“In here,” he replied as a light switched on deeper in the room before she could find the switch. Shepard winced against the sudden change in brightness and was greeted by something she’d never expected. Tiny star lights blinked into existence in front of her. Hundreds of them, projected onto the walls of a tent.

Overtop the mattress, Garrus had used an extra bed sheet to create a shelter. He sat on his haunches, holding the door open to her. “I uh-- thought this might be fun. You know, considering it is our last day of quarantine. I know, it’s silly--”

“This is fantastic!” Shepard couldn’t hold in her laughter for a moment longer. Immediately, she crouched down beside him to plant a kiss on his mandible before sneaking past him and into the tent. “Oh, I love it!”

Not only had the bed been made into a fortress, but Garrus had also taken the time to gather seemingly everything Shepard could need for a comfortable evening. There were snacks and drinks. Garrus set the projector up for watching a movie on the ceiling, and the datapad with her book waited on the pillows.

He grinned, crawling inside with her after he closed the tent-flap. In the centre of the bed, a single lamp shone through a paper filter. Shepard could see that it was an old manual, written in flowing asari script. He’d taken the time to cut tiny holes in the paper to make the pin-points show on the walls. 

Flopping down into the pillows, Shepard stretched out and yawned. A few moments later, Garrus snuggled up against her side with his head on her chest. “It’s perfect, Garrus,” she told him as she caressed his fringe with the tips of her fingers.

His long sigh brought a little extra warmth to her soul.

While going back to reality wouldn’t be easy, Shepard knew that she was stronger for this time away. The galaxy could continue to throw things in her path, and she would always keep standing up to fight against it with her favourite turian, her boyfriend, at her side.

- - -

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Chapter Text

Chapter 14 - Home Again

---

Shepard stood beside Garrus in the Akkeema’s cargo bay, helmeted and ready with her gear to return to the Normandy . Her fingers intertwined with Garrus’ as they watched the frigate approach. After two long weeks, quarantine was over. 

“That was--” Garrus hummed beside her, cutting off before he finished his sentence. 

Sighing, Shepard agreed. “Yeah. It was.”

The break, while unexpected, had been welcome. Shepard’s body felt more rested than it had in years, and her spirit was calm, too. In the past, she’d been hesitant to believe vacations were necessary. However, now that she’d had a taste of what they could be, she decided she’d need to plan at least a few more. 

“We should do this again,” she offered into the silence. “You know, without the potential alien virus part.”

Garrus chuckled and squeezed her hand. “Maybe on a beach next time. I’d rather not spend hours fixing the environmental systems again.”

“A beach,” Shepard agreed. “Little sun and sand never hurt anyone.”

“Mh-hm. Few drinks, maybe a barbecue?”

She looked at him in her peripheral. “Temptress.” He shrugged with one arm but didn’t argue, making her laugh. “Next time, Big Guy.”

The Normandy finished docking, and Shepard reluctantly let go of Garrus’ hand with one final squeeze. Across the void, the airlock door opened to Miranda and Grunt. She initiated the tethering mechanism, and the pair came across to help them gather all the supplies. 

“Battlemaster!” Grunt shouted as he landed hard in the Akkeema. The hug he pulled Shepard into knocked the wind out of her, and Garrus got headbutted for laughing.

With help, it took almost no time at all for them to send all of the gear home. Shepard checked the ship one last time before joining Garrus in the cargo bay. Miranda and Grunt were already across the gap, but Garrus had waited-- just in case.

This time, as she looked across the black, Shepard wasn’t afraid.

She was going home.

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