A/N: I'm just playing with this idea for the moment, and I'd really love feedback (I don't have a beta! *tear*). As always, Bioware owns nearly everything, and I'm just playing with the world they gave us.

Garrus bobbed under Jyril's cross weaving and launching his own hook at the soft spot between the armored plates on Jyril's abdomen. Jyril slid to the left at the last second and Garrus's punch caught empty air. Garrus grunted in frustration as Jyril landed a roundhouse kick on Garrus's side. The kick didn't hurt, much, but Garrus normally didn't let himself get caught like that.

"What's on your mind?" Jyril asked dropping back.

Garrus shook his head righting himself, "Saren."

Jyril threw a soft jab, testing Garrus. He already knew Garrus would feint right before closing—they'd been sparring so long that Jyril didn't need to test Garrus. Their moves like clockwork: in, out, under, cross, hook, kick, close.

Garrus was looking through the messages: classified, classified, classified; the mission reports: classified, classified, classified. Why have him investigate spectres if their movements were above his paygrade. He threw the datapad on the desk in frustration pacing the office.

Garrus moved into the punch keeping his head outside the jab and launching his own cross. It was a move Garrus rarely used and he hit Jyril square on the nose. Garrus broke into a wry smile, it was nice to know he still had some surprises. The punch didn't have a lot of power, but they were just sparring, and Garrus hadn't thrown his weight into it. Jyril growled, and Garrus threw a hook at his now exposed side. "I just can't seem to get anything on him. Everything he does is classified," Garrus continued, breathing heavily, and finishing his current assault with an uppercut.

"I don't understand your fascination with them," his father lectured. "Spectres work outside the law, they have no consequences. We aren't made for that. C-Sec is where you need to be."

"Damn spectres," Jyril agreed throwing a belated jab. Garrus had already danced outside of his reach.

Garrus dropped his guard for a second; "Pallin's getting on me for not having more to present, and now some human is poking around."

The human. He'd seen her today. Proud, he thought he saw the hint of a swagger, but then again all humans walked that way to him. She'd done something back on Elysium against some batarians, but Garrus wasn't sure who hadn't encountered batarian slavers at some point.

Jyril snorted, "The Executor just doesn't want to look bad in front of the Council, he knows your hands are tied." Jyril brushed Garrus's jab aside moving to his inside—a dangerous place to be—he laced his left foot with Garrus's right bringing him down on the mat. Garrus's breath went out in a big harrumph as he hit the ground.

"And the human, well, no one worries about them." Jyril landed on Garrus with his knee on his chest effectively holding him down. Garrus struggled for a moment knowing he lost this round.

"Again?" he growled.

Shepard spun landing a backfist on Alenko's face. He was wearing gear, so she wasn't concerned, he'd hit her good a couple times himself. She followed up with a quick cross/hook combination.

"We're sorry, at this time we cannot offer you the support you ask. We have no proof Saren has done anything of the things you claim. You were the only one who saw him on Eden Prime."

She landed a solid knee and she felt him breathe out in a quick gasp. He recovered quickly and used his biotics to give his next series of attacks more power. Shepard wove under his jab/cross but was caught by a well-placed kick.

"Everything Saren's done is classified. My C-Sec status won't let me look into it."

She wasn't in the game today. She shook her head, dancing back on the balls of her feet, guard dropping slightly once she was out of Alenko's reach. Alenko followed throwing a few tentative jabs to keep her at distance. She responded with a spinning crossing kick that cut him across the jaw.

"Dammit Commander, leave my head alone."

Shepard smiled in spite of herself, she hadn't realized she was being a headhunter today, "Sorry Alenko. Keep your guard up."

Jenkins sank to the ground. The geth drones humming up the hill. The three of worked well together, and this was a routine mission, well, almost routine. They'd left him. Hours later, in space, the coffin sent into the black. The marine burial.

Alenko was moving closer, trying to slip between her guard. She brought her hands back up and landed a soft side kick just to keep him away. He huffed, not expecting it.

"At least it wasn't your face," Shepard said already back on the balls of her feet circling the ring.

Nihlus dead. Prothean beacon gone. No human spectre.

He managed a half smile moving to her forty-five. She had a leg up and cocked, ready to keep him at arm's length. Baiting her, he slid in for a half second before launching a spin kick. She took the bait, and found herself on the mat.

Garrus looked over his shoulder at the small human female exiting the C-Sec gym, she was the same woman from the presidium earlier that day. Garrus had heard the council turned down her request to stop Saren because there wasn't enough evidence. He didn't blame them for their decision, the Council couldn't take her side without overwhelming proof, Saren was still a spectre. But knowing that didn't make it any easier to swallow. It was still his fault.

Garrus noticed the swagger was out of her gait now, and she seemed to be favoring her left side a little. The male with her looked concerned. The human female didn't look damaged, but humans were a notoriously frail species and spirits knew what could be wrong with her. Despite the other women crowding close to him, the male hardly paid them any attention. She, however, hardly even looked in his direction. He was putting forth a lot of effort and it didn't seem to be working. Garrus frowned, confused. Turians wouldn't do that. They were much more straightforward than humans. But Garrus figured he would never understand humans no matter how long they hung out on the Citadel.

"Flux?" Jyril asked turning his head to see what Garrus was staring at so determinedly. "Nice," Jyril continued, Garrus looked at him confused. "I never thought you'd be one for flesh. But you have good tastes, if you're referring to the one not fawning over the male. I'd say the rest of them are taken," Jyril was almost smiling.

Garrus shook his head. "No. That's the female from the Citadel. She's the one poking around after Saren."

Jyril regarded her again as she made her way down the crisp, white corridor, "I'd do some more investigating if I was you."

Garrus shook his head again. No. Even if he favored flesh, she would certainly never speak to the officer who failed to incriminate Saren. "Jyril, I'm not interested in flesh. It's too…soft."

Jyril flared his mandibles in a chuckle, "You have no idea what you're missing."

Garrus regarded her again. She was almost out of sight, "No, I suppose I don't. But, I'm not that interested in finding out." He didn't understand what Jyril found so fascinating about them: humans and asari. They were soft, and they looked so malleable and breakable. He could only imagine what his talons would do, let alone his teeth. That, he supposed, might be part of the allure. But not for him. Give him sturdy grey armor to grab and bite with long limbs to encircle him. Someone he wouldn't be afraid to hurt.

"I don't suppose there will be any turian women at Flux tonight, do you?" Garrus mused turning away from the disappearing band of humans.

Jyril smiled, "No. Likely not. Just widen your tastes, Vakarian."

Garrus suppressed a smile. Doubtful.

They emerged from the C-Sec training facilities an hour later. C-Sec always grudgingly allowed the militaries of the Citadel races to train there while on shore leave. She and Alenko had certainly garnered plenty of attention. She guessed humans didn't spar frequently…or at least they didn't spar well. Alenko was a decent close combat fighter, the best she'd found so far on the Normandy, and she enjoyed that he didn't hold back much.

She'd finally changed out of her uniform from the Normandy and into something clean. She was amazed at how much she still looked forward to the basic amenities of shore leave. Clean uniforms, almost fresh water, she always thought with enough time she'd get used to the essential staleness of ships. And somehow she always managed to convince herself she had, until she went on shore leave. A handful of the crew was waiting for the two of them, mostly women, and Shepard was almost certain they were just hoping for a chance to talk to Alenko. He was certainly starting to amass a fan club.

"Most of the crew is already at Chora's Den," she heard one of the young corporals say leaning in closer than she should have. Shepard almost mentioned something about rules against fraternization, but Alenko didn't look interested, so she let it slide. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a familiar shape exit the C-Sec gym. She glanced over at the turian, she couldn't quite place him, but she knew she'd seen him around. She still wasn't good at recognizing the distinctive markings for the other species no matter how many hours she spent watching their news vids.

Alenko looked over at Shepard, "You in?" She nodded. Boxing certainly wasn't going to get her head back in the game tonight, maybe a drink would.

Sure enough, the crew of the Normandy had commandeered a corner of the bar all to themselves. After months of trolling the Terminus systems for a group of batarian slavers the marines were overjoyed to eat and drink anything that wasn't on the ship. Shepard hated Chora's Den, even though it seemed to be a favorite with her crew. She wasn't opposed to seedy bars in general, but there was something about this bar that always set her on edge.

"I see the LT got you good, Commander," one of the marines shouted at her as she made her way to the bar. A whiskey was going to taste so good.

She rubbed the already forming black eye. "Even a blind squirrel finds a nut," she threw back smiling.

"LT, are you going to take that?" The sergeant continued.

Alenko shrugged, "At least she takes it as well as she gives it…which is more than I can say for you, Lucas."

Shepard was glad they were joking. Jenkins's death had been hard on everyone. Shepard didn't lose people on Anderson's ship and under her command. Ever. Deaths on ships patrolling the edges of the Terminus System, while not frequent, weren't uncommon, and most of her marines had been on missions where they'd lost someone. But not her. Not since the Blitz. To make it even worse, he was well liked even if he was a bit green. It was Jenkins's first tour on the Normandy, and he'd been so eager to prove himself, and she'd decided to take him. It had been her call. Not Anderson's. Hers. And now there was the space he used to be, one bunk empty, one less voice in the mess, one more set of dog tags sent home with an apologetic note.

Shepard looked over at Alenko. He had been steered into a corner booth and was already surrounded by admirers. Shepard thought every female on the ship must be over there. "Does it hurt?" they cooed. Shepard wondered what they were talking about, Alenko hadn't taken a hit on Eden Prime, until she noticed Alenko's fat lip. She must really have been hunting heads today. She blushed. She was normally so controlled, and she never hunted heads, at least not her crew's. She brought her hand instinctively up to her eye, they, however, seemed all right with hunting hers.

She cupped the whiskey in her hand and settled into one of the few unoccupied tables. The crew was close, they had to be on a deep space ship, but there were still rules about fraternization and Shepard didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable. Officer/enlisted frat was one thing on shore leave, but she was their XO and that was another beast entirely. Although Anderson had made it clear that he preferred she assume the responsibility of camaraderie as his second rather than leave it to him. She understood his reasons, but she had long since ceased to be just a soldier to any of them. She stared into the double shot held in her hands, she knew she should have been faster back on Eden Prime, that somehow all of this was her fault. She heard the shot, but she was still too slow. And then she broke that goddamn beacon. She downed the whiskey in one swift motion and went to the bar for another.

"You all right Commander?" It was Williams. She looked nearly as out of place as Shepard.

Shepard nodded, "Can I get you something?"

Williams shook her head, "No, I—well, yeah."

"Not a drinker?"

"Not usually, and certainly not when my Commander buys."

"Williams, tonight I'm not the Commander."

Williams looked uncertain, "Then, yes, I'd like a drink."

Shepard nodded signaling for two more whiskeys. "Come sit with me Williams, you look as uncomfortable as a salarian at a krogan wedding." Shepard could understand how Williams was feeling. The emptiness that comes when you're the only one who makes it out—Shepard had lost her squad on Elysium all those years ago. It wasn't something you ever forgot, just something you learned how to live with eventually.

"Thanks for letting me join the team, Commander," Williams said once they were sitting.

"Don't. You're a good soldier, and you've fought the geth. We need you." To Shepard it was as simple as that, although if Williams had wanted another posting, Shepard wouldn't have hesitated to give it to her. After Mindoir and Elysium fighting the batarians became a personal mission not just a professional one for Shepard, but she could understand how someone else who'd been through all she had would want nothing to do with them. She figured the same was true of Williams: the fight against the geth was personal now.

"Commander, I lost my squad down there. I'm not that good a soldier."

"Williams, if you call me Commander one more time you're going to be on mess duty for a month."

"Yes…ma'am?"

"Shepard. Just Shepard. At least tonight. On shore leave." She waited for Williams to nod before continuing. "We've all lost someone Williams. I lost Jenkins on this mission. He was a good kid, would have made a fine soldier, but shit happens, and it was on my watch. The number doesn't matter. It doesn't get easier. When the Blitz happened, I lost everyone. It's not how many people you lose Williams, its what you do after that makes you a soldier. Remember them, and learn to live for them."

Williams nodded, not really believing the Commander. Williams knew about the Blitz, every human knew about the Blitz. But that was different, Shepard had saved the colony. Williams hadn't saved anyone.