A/N: Thanks for checking this out. I have the next eight chapters ready and will post according to when I edit them (not too long). This is all about the Citadel DLC, so there are spoilers all over this story. You've been warned. Inspired because... in spite all its drawbacks... this last DLC was excellent, and a perfect "ending" to this amazing ride. Sadface. OH! Also- no beta. Sorry :)

No copyright infringement intended; BioWare owns Mass Effect. And my soul.

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Mandatory Shore Leave

Shepard's office was in complete disarray; towers of neatly stacked datapads waited for attention beside her main private terminal, but the ones who had gained a moment of her time had, for good or ill, become parts of tall mounds of other datapads across the rest of the desk and shelves. She had given Garrus a shamed look the first time he had seen the chaos before the Omega 4 relay, and that mess paled compared to the state the poor desk was in now. Disorganization was not a typical trait among turians, but, apparently, common enough among humans and even more so in asari. Still, while justified, it had surprised him at first to learn that the famed Alliance commander was a disorganized one. What had surprised him that first time, and even now, was that her quirk didn't bother him in the least. Though, he'd never been a very good turian.

In the empty room, his side mandibles flared outwards into an unconcealed smile. He settled his own box of datapads on top of the bare desk beside the long couch, and his small crate of possessions beside the bed. He sat on the edge of what had been his side of the bed for a long time now, even before and after being picked up on Menae, but it had never felt as official as it did now. Their date, as most humans liked to call these things, had been more perfect than he could ever imagine. Garrus had been completely unsure whether Shepard knew what he'd meant when he asked if she was ready to be a one turian kind of woman. He had been in a daze after her answer, but not enough to miss being the better shot. In between all his teasing, she managed to bring back his question, unashamed to tease back, saying that it wouldn't be official until she had a ring on her finger.

Garrus pulled the tiny box from the crate and opened it, resting the vacant thing gingerly in his hand. His smile grew wider as he recalled her reaction. They both knew she had been joking when she mentioned the ring; whether or not there was a wedding, official clan bonding rituals, clan markings and rings, the human and turian had a special and unbreakable bond. They didn't need traditions or acceptance or anything else to make it official, to make it real. They knew their love was beyond that— beyond anything. But he was happy to make it official by human standards. It was also nice see Shepard's face filled with a pleasant surprise for once. It may not have been the typical diamond ring the human vids and records mentioned, but the stone was just as strong, native to Palaven just like him, and the best part of all: it was blue.

Ever since she had come back alive, even before they made any plans to get together, his imagination had gotten the better of him so much so that he spent a while researching human culture and rituals of all kinds. One of the more innocent findings, and one of few he would feel somewhat comfortable enough to admit studying, was the proposal of becoming a bondmate. He'd heard of engagement rings and weddings from a few of his buddies during his C-Sec days, but not once did he learn more than he was told. Not once did he imagine he'd be one of those guys, eager to put a ring on a special girl's finger, eager to be bonded to another forever.

Had the Normandy not been needed to investigate the Ardat-Yakshi monastery, the couple would surely have shared the news and celebrated with a small group of friends. After the grim discovery of what the asari were being turned into, it simply didn't sit right by Shepard to celebrate when there was so much turmoil around her. Garrus had argued, as he always did, that Shepard deserved better. And now, what seemed like a lost battle, seemed rather probable, thanks to Hackett's orders to send in the Normandy to get some well-deserved rest and maintenance. He had a feeling the admiral was also trying to achieve the same for the first human Spectre. Maybe, just maybe, those damned dance lessons he'd been taking would come into play.

His side mandibles quickly clapped themselves back to his face when the door pressure sounded. "Specialist Traynor," Garrus said unable to suppress the surprise in his voice when the woman and two other humans clad in engineer rats outfits came into view.

"Oh, Garrus," the human female said, shaking her head quickly, "Vakarian, sir," she corrected herself and closed her eyes for a second as if chastising herself mentally. "I apologize, I thought I was the last of the crew aboard."

"No," Garrus swiftly closed the small ring box, stuffing it back in the crate, and signaled to his desk and the box of datapads that awaited him. "I thought I could get some work done before heading out."

"Understood, sir," she said sharply. It dawned on her to explain why she was up in the Commander's quarters. "On Admiral Hackett's orders, I'm staying behind to oversee the maintenance process since I was in charge of overseeing the retrofits back on Earth. Erm… just so you know." She signaled the maintenance crew to head back. "We shall come back later, to let you work."

"It's alright, specialist. I'll get out of your hair; I can always do my work elsewhere."

"Are… are you sure? I didn't mean to—"

"It's alright, Traynor. Just let me grab a few things before heading out." The human female nodded and pointed out to the staff cables hanging loosely outside of the bathroom that they could start with. Garrus stood and grabbed one of Shepard's N7 duffle bags, stuffing some clothes from his crate into it, as well as the datapads that he'd just put on his new desk, before loading the strap on his shoulder and taking his leave.

Garrus contemplated heading down to the lower wards, but the list of tasks needed to help the refugees was a long one; he didn't need to add to it until he finished helping those he was already in the process of helping. He tried to think of other places to go to where he could actually get work done, so he tried to remember what hotel the rest of the staff was booked in. He should have known he couldn't just sit in the Captain's quarters during shore leave when it was the Alliance that was doing and ordering maintenance for the old girl.

He was in the middle of sending Liara a message to ask about the hotel, when his omni-tool blipped. It was a message from Shepard, saying they were the proud owners of their very own batcave, which didn't make sense to Garrus at all. A second message came through just seconds after, before he could question Shepard about this batcave thing: a promise to clarify the origin of the terminology of batcave, and an address labeled "Our Citadel Home."