i can’t stop thinking about newlywed garrus and sun like. trying to figure out how to be married
shepard’s only just been released from the hospital and she doesn’t need help walking so much anymore, but going out for a picnic or something isn’t quite something she has the energy for (she spent months and months laying in a hospital bed after all–she’s got a ways to go before she’s fit enough to go for a jog or anything like that)
they’ve found a little cottage on the coast somewhere. his family and her family visit regularly, but everyone agrees it’s best that shepard be out of the public eye for a while. she doesn’t need the stress.
garrus is panicky, though, because they’re spending so much time together and he just knows he’s going to get something wrong, so he starts looking up things for newlyweds to do together (or at least, things human newlyweds do together)
strolls along the beach at sunset? he can do that (she finds it relaxing, even though they never go far, but she likes to hold his hand with their mismatched fingers intertwined and let the waves wash over her feet, let the ocean breeze comb its fingers through her hair–“it makes me feel alive,” she says once).
set her up with a nice bath with candles and rose petals (whatever those were)? okay sure (she gives an elated little laugh when he shows her, though she complains that they’ll need to buy a house with a bigger tub to fit the both of them someday).
that’s when he comes across the ‘cook a meal together’ suggestion. it’s highly recommended–things like baking cookies being at the top of the list. and it does sound fun, but they can’t eat the same food so? how would that work? he could order out, maybe, and help her cook something?
he asks shepard eventually because he’s desperate and worried she’s going to get bored of him and she only thinks for a few brief moments before she says, “we can still cook together–we’ll just cook separate meals.”
and that’s all it takes. they go grocery shopping together the next day, turn up the radio, crack open a bottle of neutral chirality wine (because they should still share something) and get cooking. their kitchen is tiny, so there’s a lot of almost dancing as they have to get around each other for something. by the time they’re finished, dinner is ready, and she’s got a pretty flush across her cheeks–either from the alcohol or from giggling so much, he’s not sure.
while they eat, she bumps her real foot against his under the table, smiles sweetly when he looks up at her. “we’ll be okay, garrus. this is going to work.”
and she’s right. she’s scarred and missing pieces (but so is he, in truth, even if he’d managed to keep his injured leg in the end) and her hair is shorter than he’s ever seen it but she’s smiling more than ever, with the weight of the galaxy off her shoulders, and as the sunset lands across her face just so her eyes light up the color of whiskey in the sun, he’s struck by just how beautiful she is and how lucky they are to be sitting here still, to have made it through everything.
“yeah,” he says faintly after a moment, reaching for her hand. “we’ll be fine.”
her grin widens a little more and she adds, “we always are.”