A/n: Hello all. It's been a while. I'll admit that it's been very difficult to get into writing with the lack of showing an interest in the VS on BW's part. Yes, I know about BW's gameinformer announcement, but I'm extremely leery of BW and how they've handled their characters, marketing, QA, etc. However, I'm going to claw my way to the end of this fic. There isn't much farther to go and it'd be a shame to stop now.

Misc: If anyone's interested in seeing my art, I have a deviantart with the same name (fortunesque). I plan to add some gaming fanart to my classwork that I already have posted.

Sidenote: I'm writing some Fallout: New Vegas stuffs. If you like a twist on canon, you might like what I come up with. Keep your eyes peeled :)

Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of sexual acts (voyeurism) and I'm quite frankly too lazy to censor this time. Skip the second/final section if you don't want to read :P

Garrus cleaned his pistol from the one shot that it fired.

As a favor for Shepard, he'd already cleaned the blue blood off of her armor and pistol. She hadn't asked for him to help; the turian felt like it was the very least he could do for Shepard helping him close a chapter in his life.

He stared at his pistol, remembering how easily Saleon fell. Was this really a closed chapter?

He should have felt satisfaction. He should have felt like he'd made the galaxy safer from a mad scientist. Shooting Saleon ought to have been satisfying; instead Garrus found himself staring into the gaping maw of discontent.

His taloned hands worked the action on the pistol. All the parts moved as they should. There was absolutely nothing that could be improved on the weapon. This irritated Garrus; there always was a way to improve something.

He fiercely slammed the clip chamber back, his frustration growing when he again found the weapon to be flawless.

"You know, you can't fix something that isn't broken," a voice sounded behind him.

Garrus gently put the weapon down and turned around. The scent of alcohol drifted across the space between him and Kaidan Alenko.

"I know," he grumbled.

"And sometimes things stay broken despite your best efforts," Kaidan trailed off.

Garrus wasn't used to people getting into his business, especially if they appeared to care. The only times he'd gotten attention from his superiors was generally for something risky he'd done on a mission. Garrus wasn't fooled, though. He was a foreign guest on a human ship. Though they'd given him a sense of camaraderie, Shepard would toss him out on his ass if he did something that jeopardized the mission. Garrus respected this; it was her ship.

He respected Shepard as a person as well as a commander. As time passed and he worked with Shepard, he grew fond of her precise, prompt methods of working. She even used the rules to her benefit while working; it was truly an interesting and useful skill. He turned his attention back to the man in front of him.

"Look, I appreciate what you're doing but I'm fine," Garrus sighed, "I've just got stuff to think about."

He wasn't in the mood to spill his guts, least of all to someone intoxicated.

The Lieutenant nodded and turned to go back to Shepard. Across the hangar, Tali emerged from engineering. She passed by Kaidan, her pace picking up. He said something to her; Garrus heard a nervous giggle drift toward him. The Lieutenant disappeared into the elevator and the quarian immediately relaxed. Curious.

"You do know your interest is misplaced," he said as Tali approached him.

"My interest?" She started.

Garrus stared at her blankly and she relented.

"I know," the quarian sighed, "and it's not really an interest so much as attraction."

"Oh?" he countered.

"Humans," she replied, "Don't you find them fascinating?"

Garrus hadn't given it much thought and he shrugged.

"Did the Alliance send a copy of the geth data to you?" he asked. He didn't want to talk about humans and their confusing ways.

"Ah, yes," Tali sighed, "though it took them a while to send it. Still, the fact that this is an official Alliance set of intel is very helpful in my pilgrimage."

"I don't see why Shepard didn't just give it to you," he replied, "the Alliance wouldn't have known about it and it would have guaranteed that you got the data and received it quickly."

"Well, I'll admit that I was mad at first," she shook her head, "but I couldn't let her go against the laws of her people. If a quarian did such a thing, they would be tried for treason."

"Hm, that is right," Garrus murmured.

"Anyway, I was just out for a quick stretch," Tali chirped, "it was nice talking to you."

Garrus nodded at her and found himself alone in his thoughts once more. He regarded the pistol on the bench again and picked it up. Fluidly, he drew the action back, surprised when it caught and didn't close until he roughly slapped it. The perplexed turian dismantled the weapon, peering at all of the small parts for the issue. Each part looked as it should.

Methodically, he put the weapon back together and drew the action back once more. This time, it worked perfectly. His eyes trailed over the picture of the late Gunnery Chief that sat on the workbench. If Williams had been alive, they could have talked about the pistol.

Aching discontent reappeared as he thought of the dead soldier. He wondered how her family was holding up; he wondered how his own family was holding up. A pang of regret washed over him as he thought of his ailing mother. Looking around the ship, Garrus felt almost claustrophobic. Whatever he was supposed to be doing in his life, he was no longer supposed to be here.

If there had ever been an occasion to drink, Shepard had found it. She didn't remember the amount that she had to drink and it didn't matter. All that mattered was forgetting what happened earlier in the day.

A hot breath in her ear caused a shiver to surge down her spine. Shepard stretched and yawned, leaning back into an embrace of muscular arms. Her skin tingled as alcohol slogged its way through her system. Behind her, Kaidan pressed closer, his insistent hand traveling from her shoulder southward.

"If you two are going to do that here, I'm just going to warn you that I will take pictures," Joker's voice sounded in front of them.

"Oh, I bet you would love that," Shepard retorted, standing slowly.

Behind her, Kaidan shifted in the copilot's seat. He eyed her up and down as she stretched.

"Come on, cowboy," the Commander murmured, "let's go saddle up."

Wordlessly, they shuffled toward Shepard's quarters, the smell of alcohol trailing behind them. Joker chuckled to himself and pressed some buttons on his console. There was nobody around and the show was about to begin.

Within a minute, moans and gasps poured through the speakers. The pilot shifted in his seat as he watched Alenko clumsily rip Shepard's clothes off and and roughly enter her after dropping his pants unceremoniously. Most of the time, it took one look and the couple would trip over each other to get a quick fuck in before they had to work. And they rarely had time to get completely naked. Joker was fine with this; he didn't want to see Alenko's ass.

He switched cameras to get a better view of Shepard. With each one of the Lieutenant's thrusts came a smacking noise, the Commander's tits bouncing merrily in time. A hand snaked around to where the couple was joined. Joker leaned in to watch Alenko mercilessly rub Shepard's clit with his large, calloused hands.

"Shit!" the pilot cursed as Shepard screamed loudly.

His hand smacked the button that would turn the volume down. Turning around, Joker saw that Pressley was the only person on deck; the old man was in his own world, staring at a screen that displayed star charts. Nobody had noticed and he breathed a sigh of relief.

He turned back to his private show in time to see Alenko collapse on top of Shepard.

"Son of a bitch," Joker swore.

It had been another quickie. Frustrated, the pilot turned the camera view off, unaware that the couple was just getting started.