Docks are always busy, lots of people and creates and commotion coming from all different parts of the galaxy. Each species had their own way of doing things, each with their own misgivings about the system. It was too slow for the salarians, too bureaucratic for the turians, and too boring for the krogan. Asari, however, were right at home; the universe had been their playground lifetimes before anyone else, so the rules were to their advantage. Humans had been gaining ground in recent years, especially since the Battle of the Citadel, but the glow of strength and self sacrifice was beginning to wane in the collective memory. Replacing it was the ferocity in which they used to gain economic and governmental territory. The newest members of the galactic community now had become the bane of those who thought humans were getting too much, and more importantly, too fast. This school of thought grew as the face of the Council and C-Sec changed. Back handed comments ruled the dock whenever the Earth-clan was involved, yet everyone had business with them.
All of it was background noise though. The former Specter and ex-Vigilante had bellies to fill and upgrades to pick up.
"Know any good places?" Shepard had just finished the forms for a new personnel defense system offered by Sirta Foundations. It was the last item on a long list of orders, ranging from plumbing to ordinance. They had almost three hours left to spare until the parts were installed and the meeting with Anderson began.
"There's a pretty good stand near the C-Sec Academy, best canari soup outside of Palaven. Pretty nice view off the balcony too."
"Sounds great. Know anything about the human stuff?"
"Hmm… Never heard of anyone getting sick from it."
"Good enough for me, lead the way."
It had felt like such a long time since they had walked the halls together of the Upper Wards. Not so much in the time, but how strife had aged them. The lights didn't shine as brightly, adventure wasn't quite so new, enemies seemed more eternal than maniacal. In their line of work, it was easy to paint everything black and write off everyone around you. Someone was always after your stuff, looking for your weak point, dissecting everything you said. To be able to share those feelings, spoken or otherwise, was a relief. It changed nothing, but it made all the difference. Otherwise meaningless conversation had depth, something that lacked in both their lives.
"Dammit, Kiera! You're spoiling the kid!"
"Veekron! Don't use such harsh language around the baby!"
Ah, a young family was getting into the first of many public arguments.
"She's already twelve years old, she can walk by herself!"
"I know what she needs! She's my species after all!"
"What the hell did you need me for then!"
The subsequent wail from the child as her parents argued pierced through every ear in the ward. Most did their best to ignore the fight, others grumbled under their breath and moved more speedily along their business. Garrus wanted to do the same, but Shepard was already walking over to them. A long sigh slid from his mouth as he trudged behind her.
"Something the matter?"
"Fuck off, this is none of your business."
"Veekron! Really! She's just trying to help!" After a slap to her mate's arm, the maiden turned to Shepard, "We have been shopping all day and my daughter, Delana, say hello Delana."
"… Mmmm."
"We had been shopping all day and I could tell she was getting tired so I was bending over to pick her up when this one here," another slap, "decided to make a scene."
Shepard turned to hear the other side of the story.
"Am I allowed to speak, my Queen?"
"Veekron…"
"Look, we have been out here all of two hours, most of which the little one was on my shoulders anyway. She makes one whimper and my wife here has a near heart attack, says she can barely walk. And I say, 'No wonder she can't walk, you won't let her.'"
"You're just saying that because you turians treat your children like soldiers when they can barely speak."
"That's what makes us good soldiers," Garrus chimed.
"Ha! Good one." Veekron let out a belly laugh. Kiera was getting more visibly upset.
"You men are all the same!"
"Listen," Shepard felt like she had allowed this to go on for long enough, "Ma'am, do you love your husband?"
"What kind of question is that! Of course I do!"
"Sir, do you love your wife?"
He looked at his mate with jest, but his eyes turned soft and his mandibles relaxed. "With all my heart."
"And you both obviously love your daughter very much, otherwise you wouldn't be fighting over her."
They both looked down at their little girl, whose face was painted with tears. Dad bent down and wiped her eyes, and whispered something soft. A childish smile grew on her face as her father spoke, then it burst into a laugh. As he rose, he met his wife's face, now washed with a glow of warmth.
"I'm sorry Dear, I just want her to be strong, to be able to fend for herself when the time comes."
"I'm sorry too Darling, I just want her to have a happy life with her father." For a short time their foreheads touched, but then they remembered where they were and quickly regained their composure. Little Delana held her mother's hand as her father picked up the bags that had been dropped in the fight.
"Thank you so much for your help."
"Yes, thank you."
"Just… remember why you started a family in the first place."
Shepard lingered as the happy trio walked away. How did her family once look, she wondered, was I ever that small?
"Ready to go?"
"Huh? Yes, let's go." She began walking in a random direction.
"It's right here, Shepard."
To her left was a bright neon sign advertising food for all types of biology, low prices, satisfaction guaranteed. With a bit of a blush she fell back in line, then throwing herself into the menu to avoid further embarrassment. It's always the little stuff, she thought, that turns my face bright red.
"How did you do that?" Garrus asked once his mind had been made up between the kabobs and the stuffed ranui leaves.
"Do what?" Shepard seemed more focused on their fried noodle plates.
"How did you know how to stop the fight? I thought you would launch into a speech about parenting, or the harm of stereotypes in bi-racial couples."
"I could have, but they wouldn't have listened. It's their problem that they have to work out, if I pick a side then it's just one more thing to fight about. Besides, their bags were from Rodam Expeditions and Madina's Secret, clearly everyone was having a good time. Just wanted to remind them of that, I guess."
A salarian took their order and called it back to the kitchen staff. Shepard could see a young quarian preparing strange vegetables with a fervent passion, while her noodles were tossed in a pan carelessly by the head chef. Within minutes their food was ready, and the pair took their seats near the balcony.
The arms of the Citadel still dazzled the eyes, with lights both celestial and electrical dotting the evening sky. Taxis whizzed by to unknown destinations, cars honked as they hurried to get home after a long day's work. It was refreshing to see so much life after being stuck aboard the Normandy. Maybe Shepard missed home more than she gave herself credit for.
"What did you get?"
"Well, couldn't decide between the kabobs or the stuffed ranui leaves, so I got both. There's also some pickled green coddon, couple beni rolls, and a little fried tugan cake to balance it out. Also got some oran tea. How about you?"
"Pan fried shrimp noodles, 'steak' strips, two helpings of steamed vegetables, black beans, and a whole pickle. They ran out of Coke but they had Tupari. Weren't you going to get a soup thing? Canari?"
"Nice memory, the one who makes it the best isn't here today. He's an old guy from Palaven, makes it the traditional way. Cannot have it from anyone else.""Wha ish it eschactly?"
"It's like a fish stew, but it's so much more than that. It's all in the spices and the preparation. The fish has to simmer just long enough for the skin to melt off, any longer and it tastes like bark."
"Mmm-mmm."
Garrus watched his commanding officer descend upon the box of food on her lap. She ate as though she had been starved for weeks. Usually Shepard was composed and dignified, but apparently that was not the case when food was around.
"Are you going to finish that? I'd offer to eat it for you, but I'd probably die." The fact that she stopped eating to speak was a bit surprising.
"I saw you eat lunch a few hours ago, how are you that hungry already?" Garrus began his second kabob as Shepard took a gulp of Tupari.
"Hmm? Oh, sorry. Biotics burn calories at a faster rate than normal, at least by human standards. Maintaining a good caloric intake is necessary for a healthy life. It's pretty awesome when the food is good like this, but the knife cuts boff whays. Iff tha foo ish bad than it shucks."
For the rest of the meal the two ate in relative silence. Speaking had become less necessary between them, or maybe the turian was giving the poor girl a break to finish her meal. Either way, the noise of passing patrons filled the space around them. There were cadets and officials, low class workers and high brow investors, all with something that had to wait until their food was done. A thought drifted through Garrus' mind as his partner finished the last of her meal, What would Shepard have been like if she had never joined the military? Where would she be now? It was unreal to think of, almost.
"Why did you join the Alliance? It's a choice for humans, right?" The last of his pickled green coddon was gone.
With a satisfied sigh, Shepard patted her belly and leaned back.
"Yeah, pretty much my only choice. There's not many options for you anywhere on Earth if you don't have a degree. The ones you do have usually lie in crime or menial labor. I had enough of both."
"It's so weird to think of you as a common thug." A small fried cake was being lifted to his mouth as he spoke, it was crispier than usual.
"Ha, for me it's weirder being a soldier. Taking orders and stuff, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. Camaraderie, sense of family. That's what I love the most. There's no one waiting for me at home, but, my squad is always there for me."
"No one?"
"Yeah… Mom died when I was seven, she um, she had a stroke and never fully recovered. She was okay for a while, but in the course of a month she went from bad to worse. There were treatments to help her, but, well… you know, everything comes down to credits. Mechanics don't make a whole lot of money, inner city hospitals don't provide the best care."
Shepard's head hung a bit as she leaned forward, Garrus was a bit at a loss. Something brought him to put his hand on her shoulder. Usually this was when she would shake such a sentiment off, even if the hand belonged to a close friend. It stayed though, and she made no motion to remove it. As she looked up, watching people of all types and colors race by, memories of simpler times floated through her mind.
"Dad always wanted me to make something of myself, you know. He was always there to bail me out of trouble, but that look of disappointment… Man, that was rough. I was a dumb teenager though, stubborn. It wasn't until he was almost gone that I really woke me up. My mom and him were inseparable, best friends. Her death, I think, left a bigger hole than he lead on. He held on as long as he could, 'til I was about fifteen; that's when he started getting sick for long periods of time. I'd get any work I could to pay the bills when he couldn't get out of bed. Small canning factories, ship yards, fast food, temp work, anything.
"He'd tell me every day, 'Don't worry about me little lamb, God will not give you anything you cannot handle. He has prepared a place for me, and never, ever forget that He has a place for you too.' … Sorry, uh… After we laid him to rest, I couldn't touch bad stuff anymore. Couldn't hang out with my old friends, couldn't smoke, still feel a bit off when I have alcohol.
"That's when my dreams started, when I could feel him looking at me with such sad eyes. I'd scream at him, then wake up in a cold sweat, crying. He still wanted me to make something of myself, wouldn't leave me be until I did. One night I couldn't take it anymore so I went out for a walk. Walked by the recruiting office near the old high school, that was when the idea hit me, I guess. So, on my eighteenth birthday I signed up and they shipped me out…
Dammit, I'm sorry to dump all this on you, this wasn't supposed to be serious."
"Follow me."
She followed him through the maze of the Ward until he slipped into a seemingly invisible corridor. The blank walls were unsettling until an orange blip appeared on their right side. After a few key presses, Garrus had opened an hidden hatch, through it was a ledge that over looked the entire dock. From this point they could see the Normandy, the bustle of people, and all the taxi stands.
"This is an old C-Sec watch point, you can see anyone and everything that comes through this part of the port. Below our feet is two-way glass, the outside looks like scaffolding." The former investigator took a familiar seat.
"Wow…" Shepard took a spot closer than she normally would.
"Thought you could use a break from all the staring eyes."
"That bad?"
"It's not often people see a pair like us and assume we're just friends."
"Who said we were?" There was a playful glint in her eye.
"I never did."
As she kissed his old scar, he rubbed his face against hers. Legs found themselves knit together and their embrace continued. Their foreheads touched and Shepard stared into his closed eyes.
"Garrus?"
"Yeah…"
"What do you want from us?"
"…"
So many walls had been broken between them in the last few hours. None of it was intended, or planned, but somehow they were always finding each other at their weakest moments. Worlds, galaxies, cultures marked them as different, but they were just two sides of the same coin. Maybe this was just the loneliness talking, or the lack of a positive male figure, or the absence of a nurturing female presence. This moment could be chalked up to any number of socio- and psychological factors. Who knows how many mistakes they were making, or how badly this would end. But they were tired of caring, and tired of pretending it mattered.
"Look, I don't know how well this will turn out, I don't know if I'm ready, I don't know if you want me but… Garrus, I want to be with you, go through hell with you, grow… grow old with you. Everything."
His eyes opened wide, "You sure?"
A smile crept along her face. A big one.
"Yes."
"I want that with you too."
"Really?"
"Yes, yes I do."
"Oh thank God…" she whispered, her smile not ceasing, "What do we do now?"
"Does it matter?" A reassuring hand met the small of her back.
"…Not really."
Those next few moments, over droves of people, hidden in the skyline of the Citadel, were spent in pure bliss. The universe was still on a fast track to hell, the guilty roamed free, the innocent under the yoke of despair, entire races of people were disappearing, but this speck of time was still just as beautiful.
Maybe even more so.
Their job was not yet done though, and the question of its completion popped in every once in a while. Work was gone about the usual way, Anderson was met at the appointed time, the Normandy's upgrades were confirmed, and it all happened without someone pulling a gun on them. If it had been a normal day, they would have been able to fall asleep that night.
It was not. And they did not. They laid awake like children on Christmas Eve, wondering what the morning would be. There was fear and hope and anticipation and excitement. Who knew what was around the corner, what horrors would be there to greet them, or if it was even possible to live through them.
They were more than friends, greater than lovers.
They were one.