Shepard woke up slowly, half-mumbling the last remnants of a dream into her pillow, and managed a contorted version of a stretch carefully designed to avoid jostling the warm mass pressed flush against her back.

Her eyes flickered open eventually despite her best efforts, and even the unfamiliar orange glow of the bedroom wasn't enough to push her fully awake. Somewhere totally unrecognizable was fine, as long as it meant she could finally sleep in. Just for one morning.

Behind her, Garrus exhaled heavily, a sure sign that he was still out for the count. She rolled cautiously onto her other side, grinning. It took serious effort to wake up before Garrus Vakarian, and she tamped down a childish urge to draw something on his face while he slept. Probably best not to mess with sleeping boyfriends who also happened to possess extremely large teeth.

So she propped herself up on one elbow and looked beyond him, out to the orange glow coming in through the translucent blinds. Right. Anderson's apartment. My apartment. Whatever. Her hamster, rescued from the Normandy with a mandate to give the little guy some shore leave of his own, was jogging in his wheel, making a comforting scritch-scritch typically overshadowed by the hum of the ship's engines. Judging by all the neon outside, she and Garrus had either slept for only a couple hours or managed to sleep straight through to the next night cycle. The low rumbling in her stomach suggested the latter, and an annoying jolt of panic made her run through a mental to-do list before she managed to reassure herself that she'd done everything that needed doing today.

The rumble also seemed to have alerted Garrus, who exhaled again, more emphatically, and then instinctively draped an arm around her to pull her closer in a move that was half-stretch, half-hug. She couldn't stifle a giggle, trapped against his chest, and she watched with fascination as he dragged himself gradually out of sleep and into a vague semblance of alertness, his eyes flickering open and slowly sharpening to focus on her.

"Morning," she said.

"Murg," he said, eloquently, and slumped back, closing his eyes again.

Okay, 'alertness' is such a strong word.

If she was hungry, though, he must be halfway to starving. She'd at least managed to sneak a sandwich while he was stuck at the hospital getting his cut sealed up, although the six hours of debriefings and security checks that had followed had been woefully snack-free. Apparently evil-clone stories were a nightmare when it came to administrative paperwork, doubly so when said evil clones impersonated Spectres.

Her crew had stepped up as she'd known they would – not two hours after regaining control of the Normandy, they'd been met by a strange formation of Council and non-Council vessels that the crew had managed to drum up. In so doing, unfortunately, they'd executed what EDI proudly called a prison break, since Brooks had seen fit to warn the Council that Shepard's entire crew was showing signs of indoctrination and delusions, which had resulted in a plenitude of unpleasant encounters with C-Sec officers. And, of course, another volley of paperwork.

Shepard's eyelids were drooping again. Maybe breakfast can wait after all. No bullets flying now.

Remembering, she touched a hand to the side of her head, and sure enough, the skin there was smooth, unblemished, even where the worst of the shrapnel from Tia's shot had hit.

The CAT6 soldiers and Brooks had all been extremely subdued after the Cerberus ship was destroyed, and none of them made a move to escape custody when Alliance officials were finally on the scene. Shepard had put in a good word for the CAT6 soldiers, though, and had managed to secure a moment alone with Tia before she was taken into custody.

"You're a bright kid," she'd said. "We could use you. There's a project-"

"Yeah," Tia had said. "I kinda figured. There's always a project." She'd smiled, and looked a little older than she had before. "No offense, Shepard, but that's not for me. I don't get used."

And then she'd been gone.

Shepard realized she was still rubbing her temple and pulled her hand away. The whole super-healing thing still creeped her out a bit, but the cybernetics certainly had their advantages. Still, it'd be nice to have some scars to show for the whole adventure. Might as well stop letting Garrus hog them all.

She propped herself up again, traced a finger along the thin line that ran half a hand's-breadth across his throat, barely visible as it transitioned into the deeper, older scarring from Omega.

No. She didn't envy him his scars.

He made a low rumbling in his throat, soft and amused, and opened his eyes a slit. "Yes, they put me back together again. You always have to check their handiwork, don't you?"

"Hm," she said, tracing her finger back and forth, thoughtfully. "I think they may have attached the snarky head in place of the usual one. We'll give them a call in the morning."

He blinked. "Isn't it morning?"

She backed off a bit so he could look out the window. "Evening again. Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty."

"Sleeping-" He squinted at her, half-opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Never mind. I don't really want to know."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, and she pressed a bit closer, resting her head against his chest, listening to his breathing while his hand at the small of her back traced slow circles. "So," he said, softly, "after all that, what's next?"

She felt herself tense up, then exhaled slowly. "I've been thinking about it, what the clone said. About the future. And it's-I mean, it's ridiculous. I know there's always a way out. I can always think of the next step, and the step after that. No matter how hard things get, there's a tomorrow out there somewhere. Only now-" She sighed again, and felt his hand still. "I don't know. Now I can't see past today. I think she was right, Garrus. I think everyone's set me up to be a perfect bullet, a spearhead, and after I've done what I'm made for, that's it. I'm done."

"I think you had something to do with the whole Shepard legend," he said, with a nervous attempt at a smile. "Just a hunch."

"Garrus-"

"I thought that way on Omega, you know," he said, and she could hear the old uneasiness in his subvocals. "Right up until you showed up, there was... there was nothing. My friends were dead, and all I had was this gun, and I just kept shooting long past the point where I knew what was happening. I never consciously went, well, this is it, this is the end of Garrus Vakarian. I just knew there was no way out."

Shepard shifted against him, trying for a more comfortable position. "Yeah. No way out."

"But there was," he said, softly. "You remember. You were there. You pulled me out. I just couldn't see it at the time. There's always a way out."

"Sometimes I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or needlessly optimistic," she said, echoing back his words from the battlefield.

"Sometimes I think you're actually turning me into an optimist, Shepard. Terrifying thought."

She snorted a laugh in spite of herself. "You realize zombie COs are a bit of a bolt from the blue. Not sure we can count on that happening twice."

"Why not? Stranger things have happened."

"Maybe," she said, and edged out from under his arm to lie flat on her back, staring at the ceiling. "I just-" She blew out her breath. "I just want something like this, you know? Working on some engineering project, going to the store, buying food, cleaning the apartment. Waking up next to you."

He snorted. "You'd be bored stiff within a week."

"I'd settle for one day." She tried to laugh with him, but it rang hollow. "I'm tired, Garrus. Just really, really tired."

Garrus was quiet for a long moment, breathing beside her, slow and cautious, and then he said, "One day?"

She sighed. "Yeah. One day. They've expedited repairs, cancelled the extra week of shore leave. Can't possibly imagine why."

He curled onto his side, tilting his head. No visor to hide his expression this time. "You can do a lot with one day. You can end wars, save the galaxy, rescue would-be vigilantes in over their heads. Try to save someone who doesn't want to be saved. Come out the better for it."

She smiled faintly. "I guess you can, at that."

He reached out, a little carefully, and rested a hand on hers. "Given all that, one day seems like plenty."

Another smile, just a bit stronger. "It does, at that."

They stayed like that for a while, quiet, savoring the soft bed and the warm light. Then Garrus said, "But, ah, I should mention that when I was asking what came next, I was expecting the answer to be 'breakfast'."

She burst out laughing so loudly and suddenly that he jumped, and then she grabbed her pillow and swatted him with it. "All that wisdom came from an empty stomach, huh?"

"I'll have you know that I am a wise and respected member of the turian Hierarchy," he said, projecting dignity in spite of his flailing attempts to ward off the pillow. "Important people listen to what I have to say!"

"Oh, we're doomed," Shepard said, and swatted him once more for good measure. Breathing hard, she rolled out of bed, wincing at the cool floor against her feet, and made a point not to look toward the mirror in the bathroom, to the reflection waiting there with too-serious eyes. "I say we start this day off with a nice late-night breakfast. That's my wisdom. What do you think, Vakarian?"

He grinned up at her. "I think I'm right behind you."