Into every life, a little rain must fall. That was how the old saying went, but Russell couldn't help feeling like he'd had more than his fair share of stormy weather. He'd been orphaned, abandoned, beaten, doped up, shot up, and even dead. But the hits kept on coming.

To hear him tell it, his life had been one long, string of unfortunate events that left him no recourse. He joined the Reds for the safety that numbers brought. He started doing sand to escape the Hell that was gang life in Earth's slums. He joined theAlliancebecause he needed an out. He'd sent dozens to their deaths on Torfan because he had to sacrifice the few to save the many. All of that shit aside, his current situation had the rest beaten by a mile. In his opinion, anyway.

Millions of batarians were dead because of bad intel, and this time there had really been no other choice. They would either die when the asteroid hit the Alpha Relay or they'd be indoctrinated when the Reapers came through it if the ancient machines bothered with that at all. Russell blew up the Relay, trying to give their deaths some meaning, sparing them from a worse fate, but it still felt wrong. There was no exit, no option where everyone was able to live and the deal a blow to the Reapers. No happy ending. It made him feel like shit.

Hackett had given him a real dressing down for his tactics, but if there had been a better way, Russell wished the Admiral would let him in on it. Batarians weren't the most agreeable race humanity had come across during their short stay in Citadel space, and they already had more than enough reasons to hate his guts, but they deserved better than they'd gotten in this case.

Now he stood in the deserted engine room, nursing his wounded pride. The doors on the far end of the room opened and in strode Garrus. Thanks to Mordin, Chakwas, and a handful of Cerberus engineered tech, his limp was nearly imperceptible unless you knew to listen for it. He leaned on the railing next to the commander, offered him a fresh beer.

Garrus sipped at his own bottled beverage and stared down at the drive core. "I take it the Admiral was less than thrilled with your debriefing?"

"Yeah... He really wanted a piece of me. I've even got the bite marks to prove it."

Garrus cast him a sidelong glance. "So… what happens now?"

Russell blew out a long breath, scratching his scalp through the SR2 cap he'd swiped from Joker. "I head to Earth to stand trial. I've got about two months before then, so I guess I'll just try to make them count."

"What if they convict you?" Garrus tried to look stoic, but Russell had been around him long enough to hear the notes of concern in his subvocals.

"Even if they find me guilty, I won't let them take me." If nothing else, the trial was the perfect opportunity to bring his information about the Reapers in front of the top brass. He'd have a captive audience. He couldn't have gotten a better opportunity if he'd planned it; he only wished the cost hadn't been so high. "No cell can hold me, not that you guys would let them try."

"Damn straight," Garrus said, clinking their bottlenecks together. "But just in case you do wind up in the choky, is there anything you'd want to do before then?"

"Taking the crew out for one last round at Dark Star sounds good. Getting laid would also be nice, but I don't see that happening."

"Why not? To hear some of the female crew tell it, you're alright looking for a human. And if they weren't receptive to the idea, I'm sure there are others who would be, albeit for a price."

Russell nearly spat his beer onto his boots. "Are you speaking from experience here, Garrus?"

"Archangelmay have dabbled once or twice. When you're working to clean up a pit like Omega, it doesn't exactly leave a lot of time for proper relationships." But plenty of time for cheap sex, Russell added silently. Garrus cleared his throat. "But we aren't talking about me, this is about you."

"True enough. And thanks for the backhanded compliment, by the way."

A turian grin. "No problem."

"I don't think they're really my type."

"Who, the hookers? Because they actually have a wide variety of—"

"Not the hookers, Garrus. The crewmen."

"How can you say that? I didn't even tell you which ones. Unless you mean..." Russell swore he could see the light bulb turn on. "Oh! I never would have guessed. I always thought you were some sort of lady-man; a lover in every port, and all that."

"That's ladies man," the human shook his head, to keep from laughing or crying, he wasn't sure. At least Garrus tried. "And yeah, I get that a lot."

"Now that I think of it, I haven't seen you really associate with anyone else even on shore leave. I just assumed that being the first human spectre got you a lot of tail, and you were just really discrete."

"I got propositioned by asari more than anyone else, the rest of the proposals were from women, oddly enough. Besides, for most of that Saren-Geth fiasco, I was 'attached.'"

"Really? Damn, you're secretive," Garrus groused, sounding more bitter than he probably intended.

A twinge of guilt made Russell rub the back of his neck. "I thought things would be easier that way." But instead, the practice of keeping everything to himself had gotten him into a whole mess of trouble. He hadn't shared his burden and fell on old methods of dealing with his issues.

"So, who was he?"

"His name was—is Ivan. He lived on Demeter, last I checked. He started out as a shore leave fling, before all of this spectre stuff that turned into more. I haven't spoken to him since I got the zombie treatment. It's been more than two years. It didn't seem fair to disrupt his life after all this time."

Garrus nodded. "That's gotta be rough."

"Yeah."

"Have you thought about moving on?"

"...Maybe."

"Anyone I know?"

Russell tugged the bill of his cap down over his eyes. No matter how old he got, sharing who he might be interested in never got any easier than it was when he was a teenager. It felt like when times had been good, back when the Reds started. While they were still young and innocent and clean.

Picking up his apprehension, Garrus quickly started to backpedal.

"You don't have to tell me, if you won't want to."

"It's Krios," Russell mumbled, as if the drell possessed super hearing as well as total recall. Garrus must have heard him because he quickly looked over his shoulder towards the little window in Life Support that overlooked the engine room. "Very subtle, my friend." Russell pulled his hat down until it touched the bridge of his nose.

"I wanted to be sure we were talking about the same guy."

"What's wrong with him?" The spectre raised a brow, more curious than affronted.

"He just doesn't seem like your type, is all."

"My type?"

"Yeah. He's so quiet and reserved. I always imagined you with someone a little more boisterous; like Jack. A male version of Jack."

Russell did sputter this time, beer getting on his shoes and falling through the grates.

"That would be the last thing I need. I like my teeth where they are, thanks." He mopped at his mouth with the back of his arm. "But you're right. He isn't the type of person I'd usually be interested in. But it's not like it matters anyway."

"Why not?"

"He wouldn't be interested."

"How do you know?"

"Call it a hunch based on how deeply in love he is with his wife, may she rest in peace, and, oh yeah, his kid." The beer was starting to taste sour, to match his mood. He wanted to chuck it at the spinning engine coils and be done with it, but Tali hadn't been too pleased the last time he'd done that.

"So now you're an expert in xenosexuality?"

"Whosie whatsits?" There were far too many syllables in what the turian had just thrown him for Russell to keep up. He doubted he'd even be able to repeat it sober.

"All I'm saying is what may be a deal breaker for humans, to you, might not be for drell. Besides, I'm pretty sure I've heard of humans with families and mates still… dallying with members of the same sex."

"And where'd you hear something like that?"

"Trashy holos." He punctuated his point by taking another a swig. "And from what you've told me, it seems like Thane was more attracted to his wife's strength of character than her gender. If you like him, why not just tell him?"

Russell wasn't even sure how he would broach the subject. Hi Thane. Nice day, isn't it? I was just wondering… Do you like dick? Yeah, no part of that could go wrong. However, Garrus did have a point. It couldn't hurt to try, save for the potentially mortifying encounters that often accompanied such an incident.

"I'll take it under advisement."

The turian's mandibles flapped as he took another self-satisfied swig. "Oh, you'll do it, even if I have to force you."