Back in Citadel space, the crew of the Normandy was due for some much-needed shore leave. They still had plenty of work to do: despite his displeasure over being denied the Reaper technology, the Illusive Man continued to forward missions of interest to Shepard. There was also the small matter of convincing the Council that the Reaper threat was genuine. Mordin's suggestion of performing cephaloanal extractions was particularly helpful in that regard. For now, her teammates had just survived a suicide mission, and the rest of the crew narrowly escaped death at the hands of the Collectors. They needed to forget the mission for a while, blow off steam and celebrate.

Landing on the Citadel would invite a media frenzy and require endless diplomatic meetings. Omega was too unsafe to let her charges roam around intoxicated, Ilium too dangerous with its bizarre regulations and contracts, and Tuchanka was in sore need of a watering hole. Shepard lacked contacts on most of the alien homeworlds. That left Earth. The non-humans aboard the ship were somewhat apprehensive, but Shepard managed to convince them that Terra Firma represented only a small minority of her species, loud and bigoted though they were. She knew the perfect place: a pub in the City that catered to offworld expats and welcomed diverse clientele. Putting her hard-earned Cerberus credits to good use, she called ahead and reserved the entire bar for the night.

The City was an immense sprawl of tunnels and arcologies surrounding an enormous central garden. Its location near the southern pole made for long beautiful summers and cold harsh winters. While most of the planet had long ago been rendered inhabitable, the City was a relative oasis of life and activity, sheltering the majority of Earth's population in uncomfortably close quarters. It had many names in nearly as many languages: a melting pot of cultures, a more chaotic and disorganized version of the Citadel. Few of the humans in her crew had ever travelled there: most grew up on far-off colonies and were accustomed to wide-open spaces. Shepherding her pack of gawking soldiers through the crowded masses, it was obvious from their expressions that their education on the glorious human homeworld had been sanitized, romanticized. The reality was closer to Omega than Mother Earth. Their arrival during the dark season did little to add to its appeal.

Once inside the bar, Shepard wasted no time in getting the drinks flowing. Before long everyone was feeling warm and fuzzy, and she was pleased to see even the more xenophobic members of her crew talking excitedly amongst the aliens, following Grunt's lead in raunchy krogan drinking songs. Being rescued from liquefaction did wonders for interspecies camaraderie. Thankfully, the bartender wasn't asking any questions about his unusual guests. She'd tipped him generously and asked everyone to leave their Cerberus gear aboard the ship, just in case. Kelly and Miranda seemed to think she meant leaving all their clothes behind, judging by their outfits.

Sidling over to her, Kelly put her arm around her commander. "There's something I just have to ask you. Is there anything, you know, going on between you and Garrus?" The room's bustling conversation fell to a hush.

She exchanged a glance with her turian. Guess now's as good a time as any.

"Yes. He's my mate." Murmurs began to percolate through the crowd, but no one got up and stormed off. A good start, she decided.

Joker was the first to pipe in. "Does that have anything to do with EDI's malfunctioning sensors?"

"Yep."

"So, that time I called you overhead in the shower…"

"Yep."

"Augh!" The room exploded with laughter, alcohol and humour evaporating the tension their announcement might otherwise have caused. Shepard smiled at Garrus, and felt his relief wash over her. Raising her glass, she proposed a toast, to impossible victories and new allies. It was warmly received and reciprocated.

"I have one more announcement to make. I promised Garrus I'd take him dancing in one of the clubs later. Actually, I ordered him." More laughter. "Anyone who wants to come along is welcome. Otherwise, please feel free to keep drinking here on Cerberus' tab."

Miranda slid her arm possessively around Jacob. "We might meet up with you in a little while. Where are you going?"

"It doesn't actually have a name. You'll never find it without me, let alone get in." She didn't mean to sound cooler-than-thou, but Miranda was irked.

Jacob was as intrigued as the rest of the group. "How exactly does an Alliance soldier know about a place like that?"

"I, uh, used to work there. Before the military. It's a bit sketchy but completely private. What happens there stays there, and we won't attract any unwanted attention."

Shortly after midnight, Shepard set out for the City's tunnels, leaving the older Cerberus employees to close out the bar. Samara had wanted to return to the ship, but Mordin convinced her to come along. For research, he said. She called ahead to Riv, the club's owner and her former employer, to let him know she'd be bringing a bigger group than anticipated. After a short hypertrain ride she led them into the underground passageways. Eventually, they passed an elaborately dressed horde waiting inexplicably in front of what appeared to be a subway access tunnel. Shepard brought one finger to her lips to shush her followers before proceeding. She led the group into a side alley, using her omni-tool to hack a maintenance door that led to an imposing pair of krogan guards.

"Hi, Fox!"

"Hey, boys. You're still looking handsome as ever. Did Riv tell you we're coming?"

"You bet. Go on in."

Entering the club by the back entrance meant passing through a small warren of maintenance tunnels, reminiscent of old submarine hatches. At last they emerged on the balcony of the VIP section, the vast expanse of the dance floor visible below. The focal point was a semicircular swimming pool set against the far wall: amid scores of half-naked revelers sat the hanar DJ. Above him was a platform that doubled as a stage, and behind him a narrow window ran from floor to lofty ceiling, revealing a view of the stars from the far edge of the City's outer ring. Shepard remembered the thrill she'd felt when she came here for the first time, entranced by the music and dazzled by the glamorous clientele. She encountered her first non-humans here, a small group of asari dancers working their way through the galaxy. Before long this place had become a haven for the more adventurous aliens visiting Earth, and tonight was no exception.

Riv rushed out to meet her, a greasy-looking human now in his mid-forties. He reeked of shadiness but had always been kind to her, never exploiting her obvious lack of citizenship to cut her pay. "Fox! Foxy, how are you?"

"Fantastic. It's been too long, Riv."

She introduced him to her friends, by first names only. He grinned when she told him Garrus was her partner. "I always said no man would be good enough for you. Guess I was right. Don't even think about paying for anything tonight, it's the least I can do after all these years."

They settled into the plush couches and leather seats of the VIP section, some venturing below to join the throng of writhing bodies on the dance floor. The music was mostly human, with throbbing bass and rough-edged vocals, interrupted occasionally by performances onstage. Dancers in shimmering costumes lined the walls, and acrobats performed daring aerial stunts overhead. Joker sat with Samara and Mordin, providing colour commentary on some of the more exotic moves exhibited below. Grunt and Zaeed were having a drinking contest, boasting about the number of females they'd bed by morning. Jack disappeared in pursuit of a spectacularly pierced drummer. Tali quickly overcame her shyness and was receiving dance lessons from an overly enthusiastic Kelly.

Shepard mingled with the crew and cuddled with Garrus on one of the couches, unable to coax him onto the dance floor. Turians had no rhythm, he said. She knew firsthand that was a lie. He was content to watch the spectacle and continue to drink. Even Legion was dancing, doing a hilarious duet of the 'robot' with Joker. Eventually, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Restless and disinhibited, unable to contain herself as one of her favourite songs came pulsing through the speakers, she set out to show Garrus what he was missing. Several small platforms were conveniently located at the edge of the balcony: Kelly and Tali waved her up as she approached.

Ordinarily, Commander Shepard would never permit such a wanton display in front of her subordinates. Ordinarily, she would carry herself with the utmost decorum and dignity. Frustrated by a grumpy disinterested mate, needing to work out the stress of recent events, Phoenix let herself go free. She let her hair down from its twist, shrugged off her jacket, and proceeded to put on a display to rival any asari. Set to the pounding beat of the club music, her dancing was raw and sexual. Garrus was mesmerized. He wasn't the only one.

"You've been wanting a dance partner all night, siha. Might I offer my services?" The drell had been diplomatically taking turns escorting all of the female crew, showing off his considerable skill. He motioned to the dance floor below.

White-hot fury flared at the edge of Shepard's consciousness. In a flash of blue lightning, her mate leapt between her and Thane, posturing aggressively.

Easy, Garrus. What's wrong with you tonight?

Growling, he didn't move an inch. No one touches you! The assassin held his ground with a calm affect, silently counting the ways he could incapacitate a turian with a single strike.

He just asked me to dance. That's polite behaviour in my culture. Why won't you dance with me anyway?

I'll look like a clumsy fool. Especially next to you.

You need to care less about what other people think. Relax. He meant no harm.

Backing down, Garrus apologized to Thane. Shepard gently took him by the hand and led him away under the pretense of showing him around backstage. She mouthed 'thank you' to the drell as they made their exit. Dragging her turian into a storage room, she locked the door behind them.

What are you doing?

You're way too tense, Garrus. The whole point of this is to let yourself go and have fun.

I can't stand everyone staring at you.

You'll just have to show them I'm yours, won't you? She pulled him in close, letting her hot breath tease his chest and tilting her head to the side to expose her neck. The scent of her blood and sweat was intoxicating as he sank his teeth into his favourite spot on her collarbone. He lifted her dress to slide down her lacy underwear, taking her roughly against the wall of the small closet. Phoenix felt his tension ebb away as he found release, the beat of the music thudding through their bodies and drowning out their cries.

Come on, lover. Dance with me.

They passed Jack on their way down to the dance floor, wearing a grin to match her smeared makeup. "Nice," she said, gesturing at Shepard's bites. She grinned back, one hand on Garrus' waist as she led him into the gyrating mass of bodies.

He was awkward, at first, but he'd always been a fast learner. Shepard moved like quicksilver and felt like heaven, her body winding and writhing against him. Moving in sync with his mate, he let his mind surrender to the music. He was really starting to enjoy himself when the flashing lights slowly began to dim. Scantily dressed men and women were circulating among the crowd, handing out little pots of clear gel.

You're really going to love this. Come with me. They retreated to the VIP area, joined by most of their comrades. Shepard dipped her fingertip in the mysterious gel and began to trace his markings. All around them, people were removing layers of clothing and painting one another with designs. As the lights dimmed further the various gels began to glow in fluorescent hues, creating a spectacular effect. Shepard told Garrus to sit down, then sat on his lap as she handed him a jar of blue paint. Your turn. Carefully, he drew his clan markings on her with one taloned finger. She'd never looked so stunning. They all took turns decorating one another, random squiggles mixed with symbols from each of their cultures. Unzipping her turian's shirt, Shepard darted in to write kanji over his heart. Mine. The music changed tempo, bass-driven beats replaced by dreamy trance as the lights were extinguished entirely. Illuminated by scores of glowing bodies, they joined in the collective frenzy and danced until the rising sun shone piercingly through the narrow window and woke them from their reverie.

The next day passed hazily by. Shepard gave the crew the day off out of kindness and necessity: the only ones not suffering from a hangover were still intoxicated. Samara, Mordin, and Legion were acting as medics, triaging the worst cases to the sleeping pods. The heroes of the Normandy might drift apart, much as her first team did, but at least they had the chance to celebrate victory together. Shepard regretted not having the time to unwind after her first encounter with the Reapers: the pressing needs of the Council had left no time for relaxation.

Lying in bed and cuddling with her beloved, she exhaled a deep contented sigh. There were still so many unanswered questions, and the looming threat of the Reaper invasion, but she had time to regroup and gather her forces. She had a state-of-the-art warship, powerful friends, and a mate who happened to be the deadliest vigilante in the galaxy. Knowing she was no longer alone against the universe made her immeasurably happy. After a lifetime of searching, she had found her home.

Garrus awoke from his slumber to find Phoenix curled up against him, softly singing an old Earth love song. He didn't speak until she finished, relishing the rare glimpse of the sweet and feminine side of his fierce warrior.

Where do we go from here, my love?

We prepare. Sooner or later, the Reapers will come, and we'll be waiting for them.

Mmmm. Yes. You know what would really help?

What's that?

That thing you do with your tongue. I bet that would stop a Reaper dead in its tracks. You really should practice…

Spirits, she grew more beautiful every day. Bathed in starlight, Phoenix was radiant, her skin shimmering with the faintest golden glow. Nuzzling into her lover's neck, she pulled him into a tight embrace and began to purr.

The End

(For now, at least. A million thanks to the people who reviewed. I'd like to write a sequel when I can find the time – Bioware's awesomeness gives me so many ideas and I have a lot of 'splaining to do wrt Shepard's abilities. Suggestions? Advice? Please let me know. Thanks for reading!)