On nights like these, it didn't seem to matter that Elysium didn't have a moon in the sky. The dazzling neon lights from the distant boardwalk seemed to make up for it, lighting up the night sky as brightly as any celestial body could. Fireworks soon followed, punctuating the calm with swirls and starbursts of brilliant color in every shade of the rainbow, just as they always did every night that time of year.

Imani Shepard and Garrus Vakarian lay there staring up at that beautiful sky, a battle-worn human and the turian who'd faithfully followed her into hell and back, finally at rest. Entwined in each other's arms in a hammock swaying gently in the summer breeze, they seemed to enjoy the light show nearly as much as each other's company—but not quite. Nothing was quite so enjoyable as that, especially now that they had all the time in the galaxy to do so.

Garrus stroked her bare shoulder and let out a contented sigh. "You know what really gets me, Imani?" he mused.

Shepard smiled. "What's that?"

"The day we met on the Citadel, when we took down Fist and his thugs? Could you have ever guessed that a few years later we'd be lying in a hammock together on a beach watching fireworks like this?"

"Not at all," she admitted, and snuggled against him, content to trace lazy circles along his face plates with her finger, for the little sighs of pleasure he gave him in response. "I never could have guessed it'd be this perfect, either."

"It blows my mind thinking about it, sometimes. It was a crazy ride we had, Shepard." He paused, his tone deadpan. "Obviously, since you were driving."

"Still got jokes huh, Vakarian? I've got my shiny new amp on and there's a lot of ocean over there." She playfully tugged on one of his mandibles, eliciting a laugh from him.

"Remind me why I married a biotic, again?"

"If you insist."

And Shepard did so, when her fingertips gained that telltale nimbus of electric blue and caressed the back of his head and massaged their way down the back of his neck. Garrus took in a sharp breath and shuddered pleasantly, his brow plates raising almost comically high. "…touche," he gasped, and she giggled at him.

"C'mon, you know I wouldn't really throw you in the ocean. Charge, maybe." Her grin was wide and impish, and the turian squeezed her tightly.

"You're so sexy when you're threatening me with bodily harm," he swooned.

Her grin grew even wider, and she rolled half atop him. "Wanna sleep out here tonight?"

Garrus laughed in response, running his fingers through her loose, henna-red curls. "We keep doing this, Imani, and we'll get run in for public indecency in our own front yard," he said. "You have to admit, that'd be pretty embarrassing."

"I'm still a Spectre, Garrus," she retorted. "Who the hell's gonna run me in?"

"Good point. And they'll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands for that matter." He squeezed her again, for emphasis. "But to be on the safe side, why don't we go back in the house? That way we can get roaring drunk before screwing like a couple of pyjaks, and we won't frighten the local fauna, either."

"Deal." Imani kissed him and eased off the hammock, reaching down to pick up her purse and discarded red heels. But as soon as she did so, she yelped as the turian ran up behind her and scooped her into his arms. "Garrus, put me down!"

"No."

Laughing, he carried her up to the porch of their modest home, and pointedly ignored her half-assed complaining and squirming as he strolled through the front door.