Chapter Text
Garrus walked into the bar. It didn’t look like much, but with the Citadel still in shambles, he felt lucky there was a bar here at all. He guessed this part was up and running so the workers would have somewhere to blow off steam after a hard day’s work.
It was the same bar on the second floor of the casino at the Silversun Strip where he and Shepard shared a dance just a few months ago. What a night that had been. His aim was to impress her with his newly cultivated dancing skills, and while she resisted at first, he felt that it was a mission well accomplished. He smiled at the memory of moving her around the dance floor and of the night they spent after they got back to her apartment.
There were quite a few people milling around, looking happy and relaxed as they drank. He saw a few couples on the dance floor, enjoying each other’s company and he could hear the bells and trills of the casino directly below. Garrus made his way to the end of the bar and ordered two drinks, a Turian brandy for himself and a Serrice Ice Brandy for Shepard. It was expensive, but this was her birthday. Or at least what would have been her birthday if she had survived the war.
He sat down on the stool, took a sip of his drink and let his thoughts drift back to everything that happened over the last few years, from his first meeting with Shepard on the Citadel to taking down Saren and then later the Collectors. He reflected on that final battle in London which ended the war a mere 3 months ago. And while he was glad the Reapers were gone, there was a huge hole in his heart left by Shepard’s absence.
“Easy there Garrus,” said a familiar voice.
He turned to see Shepard seated in the chair next to him, as lovely as ever. She was dressed in her black and red N7 armor, just like she had been the last time he saw her. Her raven colored hair hung loosely above her shoulders, perfectly complementing her piercing blue eyes.
“You know that stuff goes straight to your head,” she cautioned.
“You’re one to talk Shepard,” he replied. “One glass of that stuff and you won’t be able to stand, at least according to Doctor Chakwas ”
Shepard chuckled at his awkward attempt at a joke. He missed seeing her smile and the sound of her laughter.
“Happy birthday, Shepard,” he said, turning back to his drink and raising the glass once more to his lips.
“Thanks, Garrus. How have you been?” she asked.
“I’ve missed you Shepard. I’ve missed you so much,” he replied. It was everything he could do to stop himself reaching over to where she was seated, to keep from shattering the illusion.
“I’ve missed you too,” she smiled back.
“So much has happened since the end of the war,” he said. “But you’re a hero. A goddamned hero. Of course, you were always my hero, but at least the rest of the galaxy sees that now.”
“Well I suppose dead heroes make the best heroes,” she mused. “No one to contradict the stories so the legend grows unchecked. I can’t wait to see what people are saying 100 years from now.”
“Yeah,” he said taking another sip of his drink. “They will probably have you defeating Harbinger in sword fight with your hands tied behind your back.”
“Yeah, and everyone knows that Harbinger is a terrible sword fighter.” she joked back.
“Ever since we teamed up to take down Saren, I have been nothing short of impressed with everything you’ve accomplished. It doesn’t seem right that you’re not here to enjoy your final victory,” he said. “But, I’ve been trying to live up to your legacy. To carry on doing things that would make you proud.”
“Garrus, you have always made me proud. I doubt there is anything you can do that wouldn’t impress me. On top of being the best sniper shot in the entire galaxy, you rescue kittens from trees in your spare time.” A small grin appeared at the corners of her mouth. “Plus, your reach is amazing. I’d say you have many skills.”
“Well, I did have to keep up with that flexibility of yours,” he teased. He paused a moment before continuing. “You know, they are trying to turn your birthday into a galactic wide holiday.”
“Well, it’s good to know I’ve finally made it,” she replied.
“True. But I wish people would stop treating me like some sort of celebrity,” he complained. “It makes me a uncomfortable when people stop to ask for my autograph.”
“Come on. With your looks and skills, you were bound to develop a huge flock of groupies,” she teased. “Be sure to tell Conrad I said hi.”
“Not funny, Shepard,” he groaned.
“How is everyone else doing?” she asked.
“Let’s see, Kaidan, was given command of the Normandy,” he replied. “He didn’t want to take it at first, out of deference to your memory, but Hackett convinced him it was the best way to honor you.”
“Good for him,” she said, “he deserves it.”
“James is poised to start the N7 program in the next few weeks.” Raising an eye, he continued, “And last I heard he has a tiny Shepard tattoo somewhere on his body, but he wouldn’t tell me where. Is there anything you want to tell me, Shepard?”
“You know he could never hold a candle to you,” she assured him. “But I would be interested in seeing this tattoo.”
“Then I’ll be sure to take pictures,” he shot back.
“How’s Joker doing?” she asked more seriously.
“About as good as I am,” he responded. “He is working with Traynor and Adams to see if there is anyway she can be restored. I don’t have much hope, but I understand why he keeps trying. If there was any possibility of bringing you back, I wouldn’t stop at anything either.”
“EDI is just one more casualty of this war that is a direct result of my actions,” she lamented.
“You had to do it Shepard,” he replied. “EDI was more than willing to sacrifice herself for Joker, for you or any one of the crew.”
Shepard sighed, “I know. But it doesn’t make it feel any better.”
Garrus looked down and saw that his glass was now empty. He closed his eyes and sat there for a few moments before getting up from the stool.
“Happy birthday, Shepard,” he whispered. “I still love you.”
As he strode out of the bar, the bartender picked up both glasses, noticing the second one was still full.