"Intoxication Investigation"

A Mass Effect fanfiction story

By, Vivat Musa

"Is it just me, or is that light flashing slower than the others?" Tali'Zorah tilted her head back, watching in a trance as the light above her quickly dimmed and then brightened in a pulsating, lively rhythm. The air was hot and moist, reeking of sweat from all of the people bopping on the dance floor, their faces bathed in the misty multi-colored lights. Pounding music that sounded more like screaming than singing thundered in the quarian's ears, sending adrenaline rushing through her blood system.

The bar's server, a salarian whose name Tali had forgotten almost immediately after hearing it, seemed bored by the question. It was obvious that What's-His-Name had worked one too many night shifts. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said in a deadpan tone.

"Oh...". She felt slightly disappointed even though she forgot what had been asked in the first place. The world swayed a little when she leaned heavily against the bar counter. "Can I have another drink, pleeeease?"

What's-His-Name frowned. "I do not think that would be wise. Your filtering units will be exhausted from the numerous amounts of alcoholic beverages that you have already consumed."

Tali slowly blinked.

The bartender sighed before speaking in a deliberate tone, as if talking to a slow child. "No. More. Drinks. For. You."

"Oh, c'mon!" she drawled. "One teensy drink won't hurt anybody. It will be our little secret." The quarian leaned forward in her seat and winked at What's-His-Name, only to remember the wink wouldn't be visible from behind her mask.

What's-His-Name's frown only deepened. "No."

"I agree with the pretty lady," a voice said from behind. "One more drink won't hurt anybody."

Tali turned around to see a man whom she didn't recognize. Sizing him up and down, she thought he was rather handsome by human standards—all sharp angles, broad shoulders, and a charming smile. As he sauntered over to the adjacent chair, she spotted a sleight of hand when he passed the bartender several credits.

"How 'bout another round?" He smirked.

The bartender looked down, obviously checking to see if the money was real, before giving the man a sly smile. "Absolutely."

A moment later, What's-His-Name placed two glasses on the counter, poured a bright purple liquid in each, then slid the drinks to them. Holding the plastic port steady, Tali sneaked a glance at the human. Even though he was a different species, she recognized the gleam in his eyes immediately.

"Thanks for the drink, um…"

"Donnie Robinson," he said, holding his out hand. "And what's the pretty lady called?"

Tali chuckled as she took his hand, shaking it once before letting go. "Tali'Zorah vas Normandy."

His eyes widened in disbelief. "You're joking."

"Nope."

"Really? So wait, you mean you're actually—"

"The one and only."

Donnie's grin widened as he leaned forward. She fought the urge to scoot her seat away, just a little.

"Wow, that's pretty impressive." He set the heavy weight of his gaze on her until it was all she could focus on. "You know, they say that you've been with Shepard since the beginning, helping her save the universe and everything. You've become quite a role model 'round here."

"Nah." The quarian shook her head. A blush heated her face, though it was uncertain whether it came from the alcohol alone. "It's all Shepard's doing," she insisted uncomfortably. "I just mess around with the engine. Shoot some stuff every now and then, fix a few wires—that's all."

"You're being too modest." Donnie nudged her arm, lingering a moment longer for it to be more than just friendly. "You should hear the stories being passed 'round of your adventures. Word is you stepped up and became an admiral for your flotilla. Pretty impressive, becoming your own leader like that. No longer need Shepherd to babysit you, eh?"

A stab came with his words, even though it wasn't his intention. Tali pushed the hurt away and covered it with a quick laugh. Although it wasn't genuine, it felt good as the involuntary motion gently rocked her body. "That all sounds pretty good when it's coming from you."

"And it sounds even better when it's coming from me," a too-familiar voice rumbled from beside her.

Tali twisted in her seat, mentally wishing that people would stop talking behind her so she wouldn't have to turn around every second.

Standing there with arms crossed against his chest in his usual fashion was Garrus. His blue eyes sparkled with mirth when he saw her, but hardened to ice when he regarded the human sitting close by.

He casually placed a hand on the back of Tali's chair. "Hey, baby, sorry I'm late. Got caught up in traffic."

It took a moment for the words to process in Tali's hazy mind, and when the pieces finally snapped together, Donnie was already rising from his seat, his posture suddenly tense and defensive.

"Hey, get your own girl," he snapped, glaring at the turian. "We're talking here."

Garrus seemed only amused by this. "Oh, I'm sorry. How rude of me not to introduce myself. Name's Vakarian—as in, Garrus Vakarian."

Almost immediately Donnie's face grew pale as recognition hit. Apparently he was not only familiar with Tali, but her turian associate as well. "You're—you're him?"

"If you mean the badass whose known for shooting people in the forehead before they can even say their prayers, all while coming up with brilliant one-liners, then yes."

"R-r-right," stuttered Donnie, his bravado quickly fading. "I think I, uh, got somewhere else to be."

Tali watched the man hastily flee the bar. She raised her glass in his direction and yelled, "Bosh'tet!"

A low chuckle drew her attention back to the turian. Tali squinted up at his amused expression. "Why is it people are afraid of you, but not me?" she grumbled with a slight slur. "That is sooo unfair. I'm plenty scary. Right..?"

"Oh, blood chilling," Garrus agreed with a sparkle in his eyes.

Tali dejectedly looked down at her drink, swishing the thin port back and forth through the flamboyant liquid. "Now you're just making fun of me…" she mumbled. "Hmm…it must be the suit. People aren't intimated by it. Maybe I could print on some scary designs. Shepard has that dragon print on her armor—but no, I want something scarier than an overgrown lizard..."

"You could always put a picture of a krogan's testicles on the front," Garrus pointed out. "That would scare off just about anyone."

"Wrex would kill me though…" Tali mused. Then, as if remembering something important, she abruptly straightened in her seat. "Wait a minute…why are you here again? Did I invite you? I don't remember inviting you…"

"You called me to pick you up about fifteen minutes ago." At her puzzled look, the turian sighed and pressed a few buttons on his omni-tool. It took only a moment for a recording of Tali's voice to play. Behind her mask, the quarian's face burned as she listened to the repeating of her own voice requesting to be picked up from the Purgatory. Unfortunately, some of the details were lost due to a large amount of word slurring, irregular inflections, and the occasional burst of giggles, but the point still came across. Do I really sound like that?she thought.

"Yes, and you still do," Garrus remarked. Tali blushed even further when she realized she'd just said her thoughts aloud.

"I don't remember sending a message."

"That's because you're drunk. Now come on, let's get you back to the ship."

"What if I don't wanna?" Taking a sip from her drink, a strange giddiness spread through Tali. It was as if she'd just injected too much omni-gel into her systerm. Or maybe that was the alcohol...

Either way, this new confidence made her want to do something daring, rebellious; like jumping up on the counter and joining the asari and the other patrons in their beautiful, sinuous dance. Who cared if she was under Garrus' icy scrutiny? After all, What's-His-Name looked like he could use some entertainment, and she could definitely provide it. She was just about to leap up, her arms spread like a bird about to take flight, when something rigid caught her around the waist, trapping her half-on-half-off her seat.

Tali looked up and saw a stubborn expression she knew all too well on Garrus' face. Turians have such bad timing. "Usually I'm all for fun and games, but we need to be ready for the next mission," he rumbled. "So get your quarian butt down from la-la land and let's go."

He withdrew his arm from where it had held her up, and without the support, she toppled back onto the chair.

"You're such a spoilsport," Tali pouted. She spun her chair, took one last sip from her drink, then stood up. As soon as her feet hit the floor, the ground dipped heavily to one side like she was being lifted by biotics. Okay...so getting up to dance on the bar counter was not such a good idea. Before Tali could fall, a hand reached out and tugged her by the wrist, steadying her, similar to what had happened just a minute ago.

But this time the hand didn't let go. Suddenly she found that she wasn't on the ground at all, but instead surrounded by something hard and cold to the touch.

"Joker told me once that women liked to be carried, but I thought he was only talking about humans. Guess I was wrong."

"Garrus, let me down!" Tali took a swing at Garrus' head as he began to walk, but her coordination was severally off and she hit her own mask instead, sending a boingreverberating in her helmet.

With a laugh that made her want to take another swing at him, Garrus weaved his way with surprising ease through the crowd of dancing patrons. He headed towards the exit. "How many drinks did you have again?"

"Eh…enough to get a salarian mad."

"That isn't saying much. All you have to do is start poking at their terminals, and before you know it, you'll have a gun pointed in your face."

"Keelah, I thought that salarian was going to incinerate Shepard or something," Tali mumbled, remembering when they had to land on the salarians' home planet to find the krogan female, Eve. Deciding that it would be more comfortable, the quarian hesitantly looped her hands around Garrus' neck instead of letting them hang uselessly. Garrus did the turian equivalent of raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, shut up," she murmured sheepishly, though she didn't remove her grip.

Garrus simply chuckled as the two stepped out of Purgatory, taking a deep, refreshing breath of air that wasn't filled with the stench of sweat and alcohol. The night was surprisingly quiet for such a bustling city. The only sounds were the wind whistling through the colossal buildings and the rush of space cars, which radiated streams of light from their engines as they glided through the night like racing fireflies.

As the two walked towards Cortez's space car, which he had lent Garrus for the night, Tali looked up and sighed. Garrus noticed this and glanced down at her.

"Something the matter?"

Tali shook her head; it felt strangely heavy for whatever reason. "It's just something silly…"

"I'm taking that as a, 'Yes, something is bothering me. I would love to tell you all about it, Garrus.'" He tapped the side of her arm, prompting her to speak.

After a moment's hesitation she looked up again, the light of the city reflecting off her mask's glassy surface. "I miss the stars," she admitted in a quiet voice, as if too embarrassed to say it any louder. "All of the Citadel's lights and neon signs completely blot out the stars."

"Life in a city isn't like the life in a space ship," Garrus said. "Or, in your case, the flotilla."

"Sad but true. On the flotilla—or even the Normandy—I could just look out a window and see billions of stars, so close I could pluck one out of space. Don't you miss seeing that when you're on the Citadel?"

"You forget that I used to work at C-Sec," he reminded her, "which just so happens to be located on the Citadel."

Tali groaned. "Keelah, that's right. How could I forget that?"

"Especially after all of those elevator rides," he said slyly. "You know, when you would tell me about the flotilla and—"

"Still got a shotgun," she cut him off. "I may be drunk, but I can still shoot."

"Nevermind, then," he said quickly. "But, yeah, the lack of stars is one of the downsides of the Citadel. Though they're good to look out, they're also useful to find out your location if you don't know where you are. In a turian's training, you're required to memorize the major star constellations in the galaxy so you always know where you are."

Shaking her head, Tali made a disappointed 'tsk' sound. "Why do turians have to complicate everything? You can't just look at something and admire its beauty. Noooo, you have to figure out its strategic—" she used her fingers to place imaginary quotation marks around the word— "qualities and see if you can calibrate it."

Garrus' expression was of mock-indignation when he replied, "Well, excuse me for trying to find out an item's usefulness."

By now they had reached the space car. Garrus put Tali down slowly, making sure she wouldn't stumble again, before getting into his seat. He sat behind the wheel (obviously) and slammed the driver's door shut while Tali did the same on her side. Then he started the engine and followed the rest of the space cars. Unfortunately, it took only a few minutes to realize the traffic wasn't going to let them arrive at the Normandy anytime soon.

Garrus let out a long, irritated sigh, his talons tapping impatiently on the steering wheel. It was going to be a long ride.

A space car weaved in and out through the other vehicles, cut in front of Garrus, and shot him a rude gesture all the while. "Same to you!" Garrus returned the gesture, groaned, then slammed his hand down on the steering wheel with more force than necessary. With another resigned sigh, he said, "Tali, can you call Joker to tell him that we're going to be late?"

There was a long silence before Garrus glanced at the quarian. Tali had her head propped up into the palm of her hand, leaning against the window. A muffled snoring came from where she sat.

Great, just great, Garrus thought morosely. So there were two options: be a gentleman and let her sleep, or wake her up so he wouldn't have to suffer the agonizing drive alone. The choice was obvious.

"Tali, look, Grunt is eating a salarian's liver!"