A/N: My first oneshot. How time flies... I was moved (inspired, cursed, whatever) to scribble this by my first Mass Effect 2 playthrough. Long story short, I had no skills. None. I was rather intimidated by Garrus as well, not having 'met' him before in Mass Effect. I squirmed whenever he complimented a shot. So...this fic. Began as humor, evolved into something else. Not really sure what, honestly. Some language.
.X.
Garrus paused outside the elevator. An hour earlier the view ports on near starboard side would have looked out onto turmoil; Haestrom had not wanted them to leave. A sudden flare in the planet's magnetic field had overwhelmed the ship's navigation system, foreshadowing the sand storm that whipped in only seconds later. But the Normandy slumbered now, adrift in a dark vastness of clear stars.
As he had hoped, Shepard was there, one arm braced on either side of the commander's terminal, studying the dual monitors intently. In profile she appeared exhausted. Even as he watched, her chin drifted downwards, until she straightened, blinking quickly as if fighting sleep. But without warning, her lips curved; her smile both faraway and pleased. The look of exhaustion had vanished entirely. In that moment to the next her eyes grew wide and she yawned, one hand covering her mouth. Garrus saw his opening.
"Shepard, got a minute?"
The woman known to the Normandy SR-2 as Commander Leah Shepard straightened. Her eyes flicked over. Garrus knew the slight frown was not for him and was not offended. Such was the intensity of Shepard. He strolled over and she greeted him with a new smile, unmistakably tired, that yet somehow managed to be imbued with fondness.
"Sure. What you need Garrus?"
Without answering he glanced down at the datapad in his hand, though the actual figures no longer mattered. Now that he was face to face with her, he found himself unsure how to begin.
When Garrus had gotten his first look at the results of the pilot program, eyes narrowing in surprise as he read on, his initial inclination had been to pass them along as requested, and without comment. Detailing was Miranda's specialty, and this particular report had been her idea. He was about to forward the data to the second-in-command's omni-tool when a thought occurred to him. He immediately canceled the transmission and in the elevator hit the button for the CIC. As the lift began its slow ascent to the second deck, Garrus pondered the mystery. Taking it up with Shepard was as good a place to start as any.
Miranda was out of the question.
Garrus harbored no ill will towards the Cerberus agent. Personally anyway. Cerberus itself was a different matter. The experimentation Shepard's original team had uncovered sickened him still. He couldn't rationalize the organization's fanaticism for self-preservation. Never would. The turian in him, Garrus thought wryly. The good of all - above all. Perhaps that was why he remained, though he barely trusted its apparent readiness to rely on his distinctly non-human services. But, for Shepard's sake, he tolerated living under its roof and all the accompanying complications: eating Cerberus food, and using the weapons its credits placed into his hands. For as long as he was under her command, he would bear it. Cooperating had given them their best, real crack at the Collectors, perhaps the only evil more immediate that he could think of. Cerberus might be shady but their intelligence was top-notch.
Which brought his thoughts back to Miranda Lawson. Miranda's allegiance lay with her pro-human employer - not the human Shepard. Yet another fact he wouldn't forget, and as fairly as Shepard treated the icy brunette, Garrus had a strong suspicion neither had she.
Which was exactly it.
If Garrus didn't know better, the uneasiness that had spurred him from the battery to Shepard's side felt suspiciously like a need to watch her back. Into hell, he'd promised her - and meant it. But try as he might he could attach no name to the danger.
Odds were it was nothing. So Garrus told himself, more than once, all throughout what seemed like an interminable elevator ride. The problem was that he trusted his gut – he used the human expression easily and often now- as completely as he'd had reason to learn few people could be. That instinct for things amiss had never failed to bring him out of danger in one piece. Well...almost never.
He touched his jaw. Below the ridges of scarring the implants were doing their job. He had recovered functionality as it was, but Dr. Chakwas was right: fine motor functions were trickier. He'd noticed that his left mandible tended to overcompensate when he spoke. Keeping the right one bound seemed to balance out the quirk so he'd left the bandage be.
Shepard's eyes followed the tentative probing. Her mouth opened to speak. He didn't want her commiseration -not now- and swiftly he headed off the question he knew was coming.
"I'm compiling ammo stats on our last couple of missions. Miranda's suggestion." Demand was probably a better way of putting it but the idea had been an inspired one. It suited his predilection for military tactics and he'd relished designing the schematics with Jacob's input. "We asked EDI to track weapons and ammo in-mission. What gets used—when and how often. What isn't. What goes in, what comes out. Fire accuracy, volume. The idea is to optimize loadout for more solid attacks."
"Sounds like a plan. Though I didn't know paperwork was part of a turian rebel's job description," Shepard said, lips quirking.
"It's not. At least, I didn't get the manual when I signed up," he shot back, feeling more at ease. Humor was their shared fondess. Their banter, the kind of effortless give-and-take that only camaraderie can hone. "Kind of had other things on my mind at the time. Lying in a pool of my own blood and all that."
He cleared his throat. "Anyway I noticed a few things. Rather odd..."
"Odd?" Shepard echoed, brow arched.
"Yeah well..." He hesitated. "You know Shepard, I wouldn't even mention this if it didn't seem important."
Her brow furrowed. "It's okay Garrus. Just tell me what's wrong."
"The figures are flawed. At least I can't make head or tails of yesterday's. The krogan's and mine fall in expected parameters, but EDI ran into some kind of bug when she tallied yours."
"Bug? That can't be good. What sort of bug?" Shepard was unmistakably frowning.
"Take a look." He handed the pad over and she squinted down. Her finger slid along the columns EDI had neatly tabulated. "According to the readout your fire accuracy's all over the place. And right here," he pointed, "a ten minute gap. No shots, no targets set - nothing." The humor of the situation struck him and he chuckled slyly. "If I didn't know better I'd think you pulled yourself out of gunfire, Commander."
The hand froze.
Shepard's head snapped up. Her face was twisted...unreadable. Garrus thought vaguely that he had seen such an expression somewhere before. He tried to remember. A small movement in the corner of his eyes pulled his attention away: her fist clenching, knuckles square and pale, against skin turned even paler.
"Uh. Hnn..." she mumbled after a moment. She bent over the pad again and he found himself looking down at the blank canvas of her dark head. He heard her swallow.
Two years prowling Omega's underbelly had done nothing to squelch his cop's instinct. Garrus could feel the warning signals firing in his head, one after the other, and he shifted uncomfortably. It was unlike Shepard to be anything less than direct.
Carefully - very carefully – he pushed.
"Ha. I couldn't let that one pass. Figured you could take it." Shepard looked up at him - a little strangely he thought. He tried a different tack. "As if you'd pass up an opportunity to drop some bad guys. Just like old times. Ever miss Ilos? Didn't think the Mako could hold up to that kind of punishment, but somehow it did. And got us back to boot."
"Fun times," Shepard agreed, returning the pad. A tic leaped in her jaw.
He gave up. "Anyway you understand my concern. We can't afford to ignore this problem. It's a bad time too. Scrubbing the AI -"
"EDI's fine. That won't be necessary," Shepard's voice cut over his. "Her report's accurate." She folded her arms. The lines around her mouth deepened, tightened.
"Well, then...hmm." Garrus paused. Far from answers, talking to Shepard had raised even more questions. There was definitely an undercurrent of something else going on, but damned if he could figure out what. "Can we be sure? About EDI I mean? There's no question she's cutting edge, but AI's aren't infallible. Just in case, I'll have Jacob do another sweep of the armory. You know what- scratch that. I'll do it myself. We must have missed something during loadout. I apologize for the oversight, Commander."
Shepard sighed and dropped her arms. "You don't have anything to apologize for Garrus. My equipment did fine. Amazingly actually."
It was his turn to frown. "I'll be honest. I don't follow."
"You were right. I—I was in over my head. You and Grunt saved my ass out there. I owe you guys. Big time."
Garrus scoffed. He couldn't help it. Just the thought was preposterous. Shepard - a force of nature if he'd ever known one -in over her head? He took warped pleasure in watching her run up against bad guys who inevitably, if her notoriety had not reached that particular corner of the universe, made the grave mistake of underestimating her. The lucky ones lived to regret their error. Occasionally, even he was surprised by the iron will concealed beneath her easy-going demeanor.
At any moment, he knew, she'd crown the joke with a sly quip or dig. It was just the kind of dry wit he appreciated. He'd been gratified to discover a similar bent in the human who'd impressed him so.
Loyally, he waited.
Shepard remained silent, lips pressed tightly together.
Garrus faltered. Beneath four inches of turian-made armor, his skin broke out into a full itch. Then he could help it no longer - his mind flew to the mission he hadn't let himself dwell on since. The disappointment was still too raw.
Horizon
The Collectors had been waiting, the first swarm descending within minutes. There'd barely been time to peg a target before sweeping blasts of the insectoids' heavy plasma rifles ran them to cover. And on the tail of that memory, another surfaced, at the time of such scant significance it might well have remained forever buried...
In one moment Garrus was watching a round hammer home into a shrieking Scion's chest, the commander whooping her glee into his earpiece -
-in the next the link had gone silent. Garrus remembered his vague alarm, tapping the insert to awaken the connection... then all hell breaking loose. Husks. Rushing in, before, behind and all around, and he was sinking beneath a mass of shrunken, flailing limbs. It had taken every ounce of skill he possessed to force the dark wave back.
The battle to take down the Praetorian that joined in not long after began unpromisingly, and grew worse, dwindling swiftly into a free-for-all. Not exactly his usual style nor, Garrus frowned, Shepard's.
He thought with bitterness of the colonists they'd been unable to save. At last he said, "Well it's already done. No good dwelling on what's gone wrong so far. The mission isn't over. We'll get the Collectors next time. Whatever they've planned, we've got to have made it that much harder."
Shepard didn't reply. Garrus tried to smile, though his mandibles felt leaden. "Come on Shepard, lighten up. We had a blast out there!"
"The blast was all yours, believe me," she finally muttered, an edge in her voice. She sounded as bitter as he felt. "I lost control of the situation ten minutes in."
Garrus looked at her -the hands flexing at her side, that worrying, tight mouth and was shocked into blurting out what he'd already realized.
"You're...serious."
The tight mouth split finally into a dry smile. "Deadly. I wish I wasn't."
"Care to elaborate?" The question came out harsher than he'd intended. "That doesn't sound like you."
She winced. "Do you think I'm happy about it? I've been trying to forget all day."
He had to take a breath before he could speak again. "Look...you're right. I could use a break myself.
What say we all go for drinks next time we're on the Citadel? You, me, the whole team. Would give you a chance to relax, pull yourself together."
Shepard shook her head, back and forth. "Garrus, stop. Just...stop"
He hastened to straighten the misunderstanding. "I'm not blaming you Shepard. If anyone's to blame it's Cerberus. They've been pushing us hard from the beginning. Especially you. All these missions, worlds to explore, people to recruit." She didn't look convinced. "So you eased up here and there, big deal. Grunt and I took up the slack. Might as well make ourselves useful. Just...you know...maybe take it easy for a while." He looked at her with concern. "Focus on getting back to your old self again."
"That's just it..." Shepard's voice was a scratched whisper. "I'm not myself. I don't know if I can be anymore."
"Hello Commander. Garrus," a cheerful voice sang out.
Two pairs of eyes – one downcast, the other stricken - swung around. Shepard's assistant was returning to her terminal —Garrus recalled glimpsing fire-red hair as he passed through the mess hall - and was eying them with undisguised interest.
Shepard acknowledged the greeting mechanically, darting a swift look at him as she did so. Garrus had a good idea what she was thinking but said nothing, for the same thought had occurred to him.
Kelly Chambers was good at her job. Too good, he had thought more than once, being twice as inquisitive as her position should reasonably require, and altogether too perceptive by half. Her talent for personal inquiries could be... inconvenient. One divulged information without meaning to.
He pondered a universe that would accommodate Yeoman Kelly Chambers in reaching her full potential. An information broker perhaps? It was an unsettling thought.
Kelly caught his look of contemplation and flashed a bright smile. Her eyes skimmed him from head to foot, and Garrus repressed a shudder. The yeoman had proved unwitting motivation for his speedy return to duty. Confined to a too-flat bed, the pain of surgery and the exhaustion of his solitary stand against Omega's finest still fresh in mind and body both, Garrus simply hadn't been in the mood for visitors. He'd gotten one anyway.
Oblivious to, or perhaps sensing his discomfort, Kelly uttered a soft sound of dismay and rushed forward to sweep the newest squad member into a hug. That the little human had announced her intention before swooping in, only heightened Garrus' humiliation. Bemusement edged out Dr. Chakwas' look of irritation, and Garrus glared at the steel-haired medic from the cradle of the yeoman's shoulder. As soon as she could keep a straight face Chakwas shooed a damp-eyed Kelly out, but Garrus was already sitting up and unhooking himself from the thicket of monitors around him. His bandaged face was burning.
She'd just met him for crying out loud.
But that was then, and Garrus was glad to see her now. Tender-hearted, fussy Kelly. Perfect.
One 'carelessly' dropped word and the yeoman would be on them like varren on raw meat. Between the two of them -Chakwas making a possible three - surely they could coax even a stubborn Shepard to the med-bay.
But before he could make his move, Shepard made hers.
"I'll look at those figures in a minute, Garrus. Find you in the battery." She said it nonchalantly, as if they were discussing the most mundane of topics, and Garrus blinked at the dismissal. He eyed her. She had to know he wasn't fooled. Her desire to head the yeoman off was as transparent as water. Garrus mulled his options. In his deepest core he wanted to forget that pained admission. Shepard certainly wouldn't have been the first soldier to run herself into exhaustion, though never had he thought to see her stumble so badly...
Yet - it wasn't his imagination. There was something else she wasn't saying.
Garrus studied her, undecided. Shepard made no effort to flinch from the appraisal. Her chin even hefted an inch, a deliberate, pronounced movement, as if to acknowledge what they both knew. Ball's in your court.
And then, once again, she did something unexpected. So swiftly, she was moving before he knew, Shepard planted herself in front of him. He had already begun to back up automatically before he checked himself. Shepard craned her head. Commanding him? Beseeching him?
Kelly's head swiveled between them. "Uh...Commander? Is something the matter?" Her voice was hopeful.
Through his astonishment, Garrus understood that Shepard was handing him his perfect opportunity.
Dimly too, he was aware that Kelly's breathing had quickened...grown husky.
Shepard paid her assistant no attention. She crossed her arms, shifted her weight to one leg and waited. It was a show of obstinacy Garrus had seen countless times before.
Inwardly, he sighed.
As if she had heard, Shepard tilted her head. "Find you in the battery," she repeated
And because she sounded like the Shepard he knew, Garrus nodded and let it go.
.X.
For the first time since returning to the Normandy, calibrations failed him.
Garrus waited. Patiently at first. Then - not so patiently.
Concentration eluded him, and once, twice he missed the automated tones that completed sequencing. Even tuning seemed more prone to glitching than usual, and finally he cut the tests short. In his head he cursed his friend's tardiness. He swore aloud to see if it would make him feel better. It didn't. He paced.
As a normal rule he didn't mind the battery's isolation. He'd long discovered that he did some of his best work alone. Today, the absence of sound, the bare room -all grated. He had no company but his thoughts and he couldn't say he liked where they ran.
Conceit or no, Garrus put his faith in his own measure of people. One look down his scope at Shepard that day, moving among the mercs fighting to reach him, yet somehow apart from them; her watchfulness, her confidence of reaching him before they did -had been enough to satisfy him. Whatever Cerberus' intentions, sabotage had not been one of them. Her spirit was the same.
Had he been wrong?
Cursing again, he headed for the door. Though the hour was growing late, there was a chance the doctor was still in her office. He had trouble sleeping some nights; the med-bay was sometimes lit when he sought rest in a late night stroll. And if ever a situation called for Chakwas' professional opinion, this was it. Shepard would soon see that - whether she liked it or not.
The door opened, and Garrus came face to face with the woman in question. Her brow lifted.
Feeling inexplicably caught, he flushed. "Shepard." He hesitated and finished awkwardly: "Need me for something?"
"Yeah I think I do. I need to talk." Her sober tone made him take a hard look. She seemed haggard and drawn. "To anyone...someone. And since you asked, well, I guess it's gonna be you Vakarian. Sorry."
He made a rude noise. "About time. What the hell's going on, Shepard?"
She moved past him to the only stick of furniture in the room: the bench, which he never used anyway, and sat down.
"I'm beginning to hate being called that," she muttered. She caught his look of incomprehension and gestured vaguely. "Shepard. Commander. I'm beginning to wonder if I've earned either name. If I've earned any of this. This ship, this crew..."
In his head, Garrus began to count to ten. It was a meditation technique he'd tried to pick up some years before, but the habit had never quite stuck. It was fast becoming clear to him that this was one of those many, fragile times where his mouth was apt to run away with him.
"I really think you need to slow down, Shepard. A day off won't endanger the mission. You've looked out for me before. Could you just let me return the favor?" Despite his resolution otherwise, he couldn't keep the exasperation from his voice.
Shepard raked her hands through her hair.
"I wish it was that simple. I'm fine. At least - I'm not ill. I don't know..." She paused. "As far as Dr. Chakwas can tell I'm in perfect health. Mordin knows but hasn't found anything wrong either."
Garrus was perplexed. She'd been worried enough to see both of the Normandy's medics. Why the secrecy? And if exhaustion wasn't the problem...? But he clamped his mouth shut. Shepard was talking, on and on as if a dam had broken, and suddenly he feared the repercussions of denying her that.
Clasping her hands, she leaned forward, elbows propped on her knees. "Like I said, I'm fine. For days at a time...I'm fine. Nothing. Then out of the blue I'll botch a simple thing like flanking. Yesterday wasn't the first time but," she shuddered, "it was the worst...I looked away for a few seconds to reload..." She turned bewildered eyes to him. "When I turned back it was chaos. Utter chaos. Our plan...as hard as I tried...I just couldn't make it happen..."
Garrus could no longer bear to listen. It was as if they were conversing across a great void -and she speaking a language he could no longer understand. Even words had fallen away. Only her voice, small and unsure, carrying in the sickly lit room, echoing in his mind, and coating every thought with a film of dread.
Something had gone wrong. Against all hope, Cerberus had failed. Distrusting the miracle of resurrection, Garrus had searched for his friend in the stranger's eyes. Not once had he thought to question the integrity of the body...
He wondered if the time was coming to say goodbye.
Shepard turned her head and he blanched at the look of misery on her face. "So there you go. Goddamned savior of the Citadel...and I don't know what the hell I'm doing sometimes."
It was not that Garrus was fazed by emotion. Anger, hate, revenge - he'd grinned and emptied his rifle in the face of them all.
The sight of a defeated Shepard made him want to claw his way through the Normandy's airlock.
Anger swept him then, a pounding wave, and saved him. He opened his mouth to ask, no demand: how long had she been fighting this? How could she not have told him?
"How do you feel now?" he found himself asking instead. The question was inane; he regretted it immediately, but Shepard shot him a grateful glance.
"Right now? Fine. When I'm...not...uh, a fog almost. It comes and goes. Mordin has," she hesitated, "suggested it may be psychological." She gave a short laugh. "I shouldn't be surprised, all things considering, yet somehow I am."
"Kelly-" Garrus began.
"No," Shepard said flatly. "Not if there's another option. Kelly's heart is in the right place but I know the Illusive Man. He'd have that information out of her if here was the slightest possibility Cerberus could profit. They had me for two years Garrus. I'd like to keep at least one part of me that's mine."
She exhaled. "Though it looks like I have run out of options. Yesterday should have never happened. I let the team down. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize to me, Shepard," Garrus grunted, but he was feeling a little better. An enemy with a name—however obscure - was an enemy that could be taken down. "We need to find out why this is happening to you. The sooner the better."
"It's not just Cerberus..." Shepard rubbed her neck and looked worried. "I don't much care for anyone in my head to be honest. Kind of afraid of what they'll find there."
She let her hand fall. "I'll never get back the years I lost. I thought I'd made my peace with that. Better than being dead. Perhaps not." She stopped abruptly, seeming to think. "It humbled me, waking up to a world barely changed by anything we tried to do. The galaxy moved on." She shrugged. "I'm ashamed to admit it, but as much as I resented being requisitioned like a damned weapon, part of me was relieved to know I was still needed."
She smiled wistfully then. "So after all that had happened, there I was, space side again. Home sweet home. Found you. Found a new team. I'd found my place again but the galaxy was expanding. Faster than I could keep up it seems." She stared blankly at the bulkhead above; once again Garrus found himself looking at her profile. "The day you came on board was the day it really came back to me. Even after we knew you'd make it I lay awake while the ship slept. My skin turning cold, seeing nightmares when I closed my eyes."
She shut her eyes and squeezed. "I remember dying, Garrus. I don't want to be the reason you die."
Moisture sheened her eyes when she opened them again, blinking, and Garrus jerked. Shepard. Looking as if tears were a few badly chosen words away, and fuck a merc if it wasn't the most unnerving thing he'd seen in years.
"Commander..."
"I'm fine. Just—just give me a minute." She swiped at her face and looked up with reddened eyes. She frowned. "Uh, Garrus...is it just me or did you...get bigger? I mean since - oh never mind."
Shepard trailed off but he had already caught the gist. "Well I..." he cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Vigilante work does that, you know. If you're not shooting, you're punching. If you're not punching, you're in there trying to kick or throw them as far away as you can."
Shepard stared. Then snorted. "Jeez Garrus, that's just... if anything happened to you, I swear."
And though her eyes were wet, she laughed.
Garrus felt it past time to point out a crucial fact she was, for some reason, overlooking. "If I may say so, Commander, I knew the risk coming in. We all did. None of us are here for our own hides." He wasn't so sure about Jack but skipped that insight. "Survival doesn't matter. Stopping the Reapers does."
"The Reapers..." Shepard's mouth fell open. She looked stunned, and to Garrus' dismay he saw he'd said the wrong thing. "Fucking Reapers. I forgot about them. God..." Her face dropped into her hands.
At that moment, Garrus decided that he possibly -possibly- was starting to resent the Shepard that Cerberus rebuilt.
Shepard raised her head. Strands of hair were plastered to her forehead.
"You're a good friend, Garrus."
"Uh...I-" he mumbled, chastened.
Her lips quirked in something not quite a smile. "It wasn't a question. I let the team down yesterday. I'm no doubt irritating the hell out of you right now - and you still haven't said a word against me."
Garrus remembered something else then. Himself, confused and conflicted. Shepard reaching without hesitation across their differences, to listen and advise.
He felt lower than a puddle of vorcha bile.
"You're not irrit-" Fuck. He didn't want to lie.
He settled for the truth. "For the record I don't plan on going anywhere, least of all dying. I'll be at your side as long as you need me."
After a short pause Shepard nodded. "Thanks." She exhaled. "You've no idea what a relief it is just to talk like this. Just when I think I've got it together two fucking krogans come barreling down on me. Their shields are up and Jack is down because she took cover behind some damned crate. Grunt's across the field firing away, happy in his own world and I can't rally him to me for shit. And," she chuckled bitterly, "I wonder how I'm going to get us all out of this damned mess."
Her head sank to her chest. His hand found her shoulder and squeezed, because it seemed all he could do.
She looked up at his touch. "Got any ideas?"
Without answering he slid next to her. The bench drew his knees almost eye level, and he studied his hands. Ideas? Ideas had been flowing through his head since he'd left her in the CIC, though not the kind she meant. He decided to tell her anyway.
"You know, even after the news feeds picked up the rumor that you'd died, I wouldn't believe it. 'Not Shepard, I said to anyone who would listen. There's got to be a mistake. She's got more fight in her than anyone I know'. I picked a quarrel with anyone who told me different. It's a wonder I wasn't kicked out of more bars."
Shepard was studying the floor as if an answer lay there. There was no sign that she listened.
"I couldn't stay in C-Sec. I tried. I went back but things were worse than they ever were. I wanted to start over again, well...you saw. I did good work as Archangel. I don't regret any of it but if there's one thing I learned it's this: you don't start over. You can't, and believe me I tried. Bad things have a way of sticking with you," Garrus stopped. Why of all times, the ache of betrayal now? The memory of the squadmates who'd died, needlessly and shamefully, was fuel to the fire he knew would never burn out. One day, he thought. One day, he'd find them justice. When Shepard had returned to him, whole and healed. It would be good to have her help.
Shepard had slid to the edge of her seat. She was transformed: her attention rapt.
"Go on," she encouraged.
Unsure what had caused the change, he obliged. "Whatever else happens, I'm not giving up my shot at making a difference. In your case," Garrus paused to consider his next words, "in your case, you're turning out to have one hell of a powerful shot. Don't waste it here with Cerberus, Shepard. Keep going. There are whole galaxies out there that could use our help."
"An object in motion..." she said suddenly.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just something I heard somewhere."
She fell silent again and he ventured another look. She noticed, and offered a brief smile
"Thank you. That...helped."
He couldn't see how but nodded. "You'd do the same for me."
"Yeah..." Another quick smile. "What are friends for?"
"So what's the plan then?" He looked at her skeptically. "Do you have a plan?"
She tugged at her ear. "Garrus, I'm not the Shepard you knew. Wish I was but I'm not." She grinned suddenly. "But I sure as hell can try." She seemed to remember something and grimaced. "Ah...I probably could have mentioned this before. There's a shrink on Ilium who comes highly recommended. Specializes in treating military types. Just so happens he's up to his eyeballs in debt to Liara and absolutely terrified of her, so I don't think he'd talk."
"Liara?" Garrus couldn't hide his indignation. "Am I the last person to know?"
"Not the last." Shepard actually looked abashed. "Only the most important. I haven't said a word to her. Learning about the good doctor was sheer coincidence. Doing favors worked out in more ways than one it seems."
Garrus wasn't satisfied. Almost of its own will, the question that plagued him burst out. "Why Shepard? Why do I find out this way? Through Miranda's doing no less."
For long moments he thought she wouldn't answer. "I don't know," she said at last. "No. No, I do. This wasn't something I could explain in a few words. Nor even something I fully understand." She looked him full in the eye and suddenly he felt the weight of the burden she had been carrying. "I...I didn't want you to see me differently."
Garrus felt a stab of guilt. She hadn't been too far off.
"Understandable." He waited a beat. "Not really logical...but understandable."
Never again. Never would she doubt his regard for her. He'd known she valued his arm and his loyalty. She had always had it, but he had not known she also needed his faith in her. He would take his betrayal to his grave. It was the least he owed her. He'd done her an injustice; placed her on a pedestal - unfairly. She was no godhead, no paragon. She was...a woman.
A very remarkable woman.
The knot in his stomach dissolved. It was time to set things right. "Welcome back Shepard."
She gripped the hand he offered. "I'm working on it." A grin spread across her face. Garrus wondered if his expression mirrored hers. From the way his mandible was twitching it probably did.
Then he remembered and grimaced. "In the meantime I'll make sure the tracking's discontinued. Disable EDI if I have to." He grinned. "Miranda's going to pitch a fit but nothing I can't handle."
"If Miranda's got a problem she can take it up with me." Shepard said brusquely. "Anyway I doubt Cerberus cares about saving a few creds here and there."
There was one more question left, and he asked cautiously.
"Oh!" The pleased smile he'd noticed earlier returned. "That. I finally found the T6 couplings the engineers wanted. Dinky little stall in Omega's sub-levels. Your old stomping grounds, Garrus." She punched his arm lightly. "You could have given me a heads up. Only took me a few hours."
"Well, can't do all your work for you now, can I?" he responded immediately. By the spirits it felt good to joke again.
Her mouth pulled into a wry smile. "Anyway, I really should go." She stood up and he followed. "Ilium will be our next stop. I guess I should let Joker know. No shortage of things I need to take care of before we get there, that's for sure."
A light came into her eyes, bright and fierce. "Speaking of which, there's something I've wanted to do from the moment we met...Archangel." She fixed him with a look, both familiar and novel, and advanced on him, palm out.
He was too startled to move.
An instant later she was gone, a smirk dancing across her face. Garrus stared after her. A different Shepard indeed.
Yet...the look of determination on her face. The sly mischief in her eyes. It was a very Shepard look.
Thinking of that look Garrus felt himself turning warm. Yeah, it was that look. No doubt about it.
And maybe...just maybe...also the touch of her hand on his ass.
.X.
End.
P.S. I cheated a little. I actually romanced Thane on my first playthrough. But second time around, a more confident Shep found love with her turian best bud :-)