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One thing that people learned early on about Shepard was to never ask for her first name, since she would never give it. This, of course, led to the most ridiculous rumors.
“I heard her name is Gertrude.”
“Well I heard she doesn’t even HAVE a first name!”
“A Lieutenant back on Arcturus told me her name is actually Shepard Shepard. Same first and last.”
“Don’t be an idiot, dude. It’s probably just something embarrassing.”
Shepard studiously ignored these rumors, no matter how ridiculous they became, and she was well aware that the Normandy was no stranger to such speculation. Shepard had instituted a policy of group dinners for those who could make it, saying things about togetherness and group cohesion. She always requested her ground team’s presence when they were off-mission, and crewmen who were off duty seemed to enjoy joining in. This night there was a large group filling the mess, but no Shepard in sight. The comm officer had passed on that an emergency transmission had forced Shepard to miss dinner. Of course, this only allowed the crew to discuss their favorite topic of scuttlebutt—their commander, and her lack of first name. But this time, it was different. “Uh… I know what her first name is,” Garrus said uncertainly. “It was in my file about the attack on Eden Prime.” The entire table turned to him eagerly, and it took all his presence of mind not to shrink back from over a dozen expectant human gazes. Ashley, seated across from him, laughed. “Shit, Vakarian! You’ve been holding out on us!” His mandibles fluttered in discomfort. “I didn’t realize it mattered. Is it something I’m supposed to keep secret?” “No way,” Joker said from a few seats down. “Shepard won’t mind. It’s no big deal. You know our first names, right?” he said, motioning to himself, Kaidan, and Ashley. “Okay,” Garrus replied, seeming a little uncertain. “It’s Sunshine.” “Sunshine?” Ashley repeated, eyes wide, as laughter erupted from the table. “What?” Garrus asked. “Is that a weird name or something?” “It’s, uh… a little unusual,” Kaidan spoke up from next to him. “Not something you hear every day.” “It’s a hippie name. You know, flower children?” Joker said, but Garrus only looked more confused. “An old Earth subculture,” Ashley said, wiping mirthful tears from her eyes. “Shit, I didn’t think there were still hippies around in this day and age.” “It takes all types,” said Kaidan, who didn’t seem to be laughing as hard as the rest. Well, everyone knew he had a crush on Shepard, maybe he didn’t like seeing her made fun of. “As far as I’m concerned, all of your names are weird,” said Wrex, towering over the crewmen on either side of him. “Thanks, Wrex,” Garrus said with a sigh. “Your input is helpful as always.” But his attention was soon drawn to Joker, who had a maniacal grin. Garrus felt his stomach drop. Joker was definitely up to something. … … “I’m still having a hard time,” Ash confessed. “You know. Working with aliens?” Shepard hoisted herself up to sit on the edge of the weapons bench. “You know this is my first time working with aliens too?” Ashley looked at her in disbelief. “No way,” she said. “You’re so comfortable with them.” Shepard smiled. “It’s the truth. You just have to look past the package. Inside we’re all pretty much the same.” Ash raised a brow, the corner of her lip curling up. “Sounds like hippie crap, ma’am.” Shepard laughed. “Hippie crap or not, it’s worked for me so far. Lessons learned in the commune have taken me a long way through life, believe it or not.” Ashley had to concede to that. “I guess they have.” Shepard’s Alliance career had been an extremely successful one. “How did someone like you end up in the military anyways? Doesn’t seem to jive with your past.” Shepard shrugged self-consciously. “It’s not like there was money left when everyone was killed. We lived off the land. And not a lot of career options for someone tossed out of foster care at eighteen,” she said carelessly. “I do own some land back on Mindoir, but…” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “I’ve never quite been able to go back.” “I’m sorry,” Ash said, uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to make you relive any bad memories.” Shepard pushed herself off the weapons bench. “It’s fine, Chief. If we didn’t let ourselves feel we wouldn’t be human.” Ash snorted. “More hippie crap, Commander?” Shepard rolled her eyes, a grin threatening at the corners of her mouth as she walked away to check in with Wrex. … … Shepard woke to Joker’s voice over the comm. “Sunshine. Suuuunshine!” He laughed. “Rise and shine, Sunshine.” She rolled out of bed, hair a matted tangle, and growled. “You’re dead, Moreau.” … … Saving the Citadel was reason enough for a party. Shepard used her leftover funds from the mission to reserve the bar for her crew. Every person who’d worked on the Normandy was present. She sat deep in the corner of a booth, surrounded by her crew and friends. When a waitress came around for a drink order, Shepard declined. “Commander, you’re not drinking anything?” Her crew looked dismayed at the thought. “I’m not a big drinker,” she said. “I prefer a more herbal refreshment.” She wiggled her brows, pulling a little glass pipe and silver tin from her pocket. “Hell yes!” Joker hooted. “Shepard knows how to party! Light us up!” She grinned in response, preparing the bowl. “Is that legal here?” Kaidan asked from across the booth, looking uncomfortable. “It’s legal in all of Council space,” Shepard replied. “Why do you think I chose a smoking bar?” “I did think that was a bit unusual,” he confessed. “You having any?” she asked, and he shook his head. “Suit yourself,” she said, and turned to the turian on her right. “Want to try?” she asked Garrus. He shrugged. “I would, but turians can’t smoke.” “There are ways around that,” she said, and grinned. And that was how Shepard spent the evening shotgunning smoke to her turian friend, to the shock and amazement of her crew. … … “Where’s Shepard?” Garrus asked, looking around the trial chamber at the quarians milling about. Tali shrugged. “I don’t know. She said she was going to chat with some people before we left.” Tali shifted from foot to foot, eager to leave the flotilla after the stress of her trial and the death of her father. “Come on,” Garrus said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s find her.” Shepard loved talking to strangers and had probably gotten distracted. It was one of her most endearing traits, even if it meant they ended up waiting on Shepard wherever they went. But this time Garrus thought it would be better to get Tali onto the Normandy as soon as possible. She’d need to process everything that happened, and she couldn’t do that while still standing in the trial chamber. After wandering the room, Garrus finally caught sight of Shepard. “Over there,” he said. “Let’s go.” They found her chatting animatedly with a male quarian in a suit with green trim. Her eyes lit up when she saw Garrus and Tali approaching. “Hi guys,” she said happily. “This is Bothan’Varn. He’s a farmer on one of the liveships! He’s been telling me all about how to cultivate dextro vegetables in an artificial environment. It’s so fascinating!” Garrus and Tali gave each other a look and Garrus stepped forward. “That’s great, Shepard,” he said, trying not to show how baffled he was by her enthusiasm. “But don’t you think we need to be getting back to the Normandy?” He slid his eyes over to Tali for a moment, his mandibles flickering just once. Shepard was intuitive enough to understand his meaning and nodded. “Of course, I just got a little sidetracked. Bothan, can I get your extranet address? I might have questions for you later.” “Of course, Commander,” the man said kindly. “Please stay in touch. I have few friends who enjoy discussing crops and cultivation.” She grinned widely. “It would be my pleasure.” And finally, they returned to where the Normandy was docked. Tali slipped away as soon as the decontamination sequence finished, no doubt to be alone and consider all that had happened. Garrus lingered with Shepard, slowly heading towards the elevator. When the elevator doors closed, Garrus turned to Shepard. “Why were you so interested in growing dextro vegetables, Shepard? Planning a little greenhouse on the ship?” he teased. She smiled shyly at him, blushing a little. “Not at the moment,” she said. “But you never know when I might need to know something like that. You know, for the future.” He stared at her, mandibles fluttering, as the elevator doors opened. Shepard tilted her head towards the open door, still smiling. “It’s your stop, Garrus.” He stepped off, unable to think of a single thing to say. By the time he reached the main battery, he’d put his thoughts back into some semblance of order. A warm feeling was growing in his chest.
Well… not just blowing off steam after all.
… … “You alright, Commander?” Shepard turned as she heard the voice of her assigned guard, James Vega. She’d been staring out the window longingly… again. “I’m fine,” she replied. “Just don’t like being trapped indoors so long.” Vega raised a brow, leaning against the door frame. “Thought you’d be used to it, captaining a ship and all.” Shepard shrugged, lips curving into a small smile. “It’s different on a ship. Much harder when I know the outdoors are right on the other side of this glass.” She tapped on the window for emphasis. “All I want to do is run out there and dig my fingers into the dirt.” James laughed. “Damn, Shepard. Never took you for the dirty type,” he said suggestively. She rolled her eyes. “Don’t get too excited, Lieutenant. Those pants won’t hide it like your armor will.” She lowered her eyes for a moment and smirked. He lifted his hands defensively. “Alright, alright. No need to get nasty.” “Anyways,” she said, “Did you need me for something?” “Nah,” he said. “Just dropping off your daily news datapad.” He set the coveted item on her coffee table. “Thanks,” she said and turned back to the window. She’d get to it… after she stared longingly at the trees and grass a little while longer. They couldn’t hold her forever. … ... Group crew dinners were a little harder to come by during the reaper war than during the hunt for Saren, but they still did their best to get together as much as possible. Some of the newer crewmen had recently learned about Shepard’s upbringing and had questions, so dinner had become a favorite time to ask. “So did you, like… make your own clothes?” Traynor asked. Shepard shrugged. “Sometimes, but we didn’t always bother wearing clothes on the commune, especially us kids.” There was a bit of nervous laughter, but most of the crew had stopped eating to stare at her in shock. “What?” she said. “It’s not that big of a deal. We’ve all had to use communal showers and stuff.” “Not the same, Shepard,” Joker said, laughing harder than anyone. He was probably going to have stress fractures after this. “It’s not uncommon in my culture,” Garrus spoke up to defend her. “Lots of turians don’t wear anything within their own homes unless they’re expecting company.” Tali added her two cents. “Quarian children don’t wear clothing until adolescence, when they receive their first enviro-suit. Maybe humans are just prudes?” “Hell yeah!” Shepard said, holding up hands to her two dextro teammates. “Up top!” Garrus and Tali, bewildered, didn’t move. Belatedly, Garrus said, “Wait, Commander, is this that high-five thing I’ve seen humans do?” He raised his hand and slapped hers tentatively. She shook her head and sighed, withdrawing her hands. “Too little too late, Garrus.” … … The former Commander Shepard knelt in the dirt, ignoring the stains on her jeans as she patted the soil down around her newly laid seeds. She looked up at the sight of a familiar figure at the back door. “Dinner’s ready,” Garrus called. She stood, brushed off her knees, and smiled. …