A/N: Well, hello again to new readers and old. While The Guardians is still going to be continued, I do need to have a place for my mind to wander for ideas, and apparently this will be that place. Basically, you can expect just about anything to pop up in here, haha. So, I hope you all enjoy.





Shepard's fingers drummed lightly on her desktop, the sound just barely echoing throughout the room. At 0130 ship time, the Normandy was deathly silent. Her rhythm wavers. Poor choice of words... She thinks to herself. There's more than one reason reason the ship is so silent.Damned Collectors...the commander tenses a fist and closes her eyes. She had never enjoyed having to kill another being...but now? Every round that buried itself in one of the four-eyed flying bastards would bring a small rush of satisfaction to her.

She lets her eyes drift away from the blank, unwavering screen of her computer, to rest on the turian sprawled across her bed, over the unbelievably fancy sheets. A smile steals across her face, and her eyes brighten as she sees him in such a peaceful state. They'd all been through the wringer these past few weeks, scrambling to get the team together as fast as possible, and end the damned attacks on colonies. Of course, as soon as she'd found him, he'd practically never left her side since Omega.

And now here she was, leading him into the depths of Hell itself, for all intents and purposes.

Shepard sighs quietly, and rises from her chair, padding softly across the room to sit next to Garrus on the bed. He shifts, and for a moment, she worries she's woken him. But the turian relaxes again, stretching out to make himself more comfortable on a bed designed for the human form, and in no way intended for his use. The thought of what's happened on that bed makes Shepard smirk; if only Cerberus knew just what happened in her bedroom these days... But the bugs had been removed to prevent those kinds of things. She'd seen to that personally.

Tentatively, Shepard reaches out and gently traces the lines of his facepaint, following it down until she reaches his mandible. Leaning in, she kisses it lightly, cupping his jaw. He understood her, like no one else did. Knew that she wasn't perfect, wasn't some hero, that things got to her just like they got to everyone else. And when she needed someone to talk to or to cheer her up, he was always there. Always protecting her, as best as he could. Her hand slid over to caress his scarred mandible.

The past two years certainly hadn't been kind to him.

The young, naïve C-Sec detective had been born again in the dirty, blood-soaked streets of Omega as an angel of death and justice, smiting the wicked and protecting the innocent. And he'd come out with more than a few scars. She tries not to wake him, he'll need his rest for the coming battle. As carefully as she can, she lays down beside him, shivering softly against the chilly air of the cabin. Even though she did prefer to keep the room cool, that was because she was supposed to be under the blankets, not on them...glancing to her right, she looks at her sleeping turian again thoughtfully.

To hell with it.

Slowly moving across the bed, she presses herself against him, smiling faintly as his higher body temperature gives her some much-needed warmth. All her life, she'd had to be strong for others, be an impenetrable fortress of a person. Had never thought she'd get the chance to really be with someone else, no matter how much a part of her deep down hoped so. And now...now, she holds her lover tight, dwarfed by him even as he slumbers. People could, and would talk, but she won't care. Shepard winces suddenly. Her mother will never let her hear the end of this, though...The wonderful thing is, she can see it all playing out in her head. Introducing Garrus to her family, and her to his...they've just got to get past today, and stay by each others side.

She glances to her bedside alarm clock, and exhales slowly at the numbers. Only an hour left. Back to Garrus. He's still soundly asleep, chest rising and falling slowly. Commander Jane Shepard looks to the set of N7 armor hanging in her locker across the room. The surface gleams, as pitted and battle scarred as it is. The webbing is already loaded with extra thermal clips, and her Kuwashii visor sits next to the set. Her legacy, her life. Shepard wraps an arm around Garrus' waist.

Not anymore.

A/N: So, what's the overall opinion, worth continuing, or not? I hope you all enjoyed this little drabble, regardless.