It started out a perfectly peaceful walk around the Presidium, dodging reporters and, once or twice, stepping over Cerberus corpses. They'd beaten the Cerberus coup, saved the Council, and now Garrus was taking a walk with his girl, feeling about a million feet tall.
Until she started making this...sound.
"Shepard," Garrus said, turning to look at her. "What was that?"
She raised her eyebrows at him.
"What was what, Garrus?"
"That...sound you were making. You sound like a bird. A demented bird."
Shepard stopped, and stared at him.
"You've never heard a human whistle before?"
"Is that what that is? A whistle?"
"Yeah. It's easy. You just put your lips together…and blow." She smirked and did it again, and Garrus was about to try his best to cut out his own eardrums when she…did something.
And the pitch of the whistle altered to something bearable and there was another tone in her voice, lower and deeper…
He could see, around them, the turning of heads as every turian in earshot homed in on a sound they were all programmed to follow. A young woman with Palaven markings froze in her tracks and began to hum under her breath. A barefaced man stood, head turning from side to side as he tried to place it, and Garrus clapped his hand over Shepard's mouth.
She glared at him.
"Mpphh," she said.
"If I take my hand away, will you promise to not ever do that again?"
She nodded. He took away his hand.
"God, Garrus, what the hell is your problem?"
He gestured.
"Look around. Look at the turians, Shepard."
She did, frowning in puzzlement as she noticed the way they were staring around intently.
"They're looking for something. What are they looking for?"
"The baby, Shepard," he sighed. "They're looking for the screaming infant you just sounded like."