Part I: Garrus
Chapter 1
Sometimes it felt like a waste of his life. He'd done what his father wanted. He was a C-Sec officer, and he was making the Citadel a better place by uncovering thugs and dealers. It wasn't a glorious life, but at least it was something to be proud of.
Garrus Vakarian did not feel proud. He felt empty. At the moment, actually, he felt aroused, but in a very empty sort of manner. He stared down at the turian woman beneath him as he thrust into her roughly. She seemed to be enjoying herself. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her breathing was labored as she ran her sharp talons down his back plates.
He never really got much pleasure from these encounters. Their only purpose served to help him relieve stress. He imagined they could be more enjoyable if he found his mates more attractive. Not that they were ugly, and in fact the woman he was with right now could have easily passed as a model. Something about their character... He needed to stop going to bars and start looking for mates in normal places instead. Not one of the bar-flies he'd met had ever had a winning personality.
He shifted, and the change of his angle proved to be too much for the woman. She called out, closing tightly around him as she came. He followed her with a deep hum.
"That was... wow," she panted, grinning at him as he rolled off her.
"Yeah," he replied vacantly, collecting his discarded clothes from the floor.
She sat up to look at him.
"Where are you going?"
"I have to get to work," he lied as he strapped on his armor.
So what if he was a bit of a player? He didn't lead women on, and he was always upfront with his intentions. He'd told her in Purgatory exactly what he wanted from her. If this woman thought he'd been interested in more than a sweaty hour with her, she was fooling herself.
"Oh." She sounded disappointed. "See you later, I guess?"
"Enjoy your day," he replied - his favored C-Sec parting-pleasantry.
The words were a habit. They came across coldly to her, but Garrus didn't particularly care. He exited her apartment without so much as a backward glance.
"Hey - cut that out. You can't smoke that here."
The asari took the glass pipe from her mouth and exhaled smoke into his face.
"Oh, it's 'the man!' Trying to take my freedom. Go ahead, put your hands on me, Blue! I dare you."
Great, another hippy. Garrus sighed.
"Look, this ends in two ways: you get the hell out of my sector, or I write you a ticket," he reasoned wearily.
She glared at him, but shoved the pipe into her purse and walked away muttering about cops.
"Enjoy your day," he muttered after her.
Lately he'd been rummaging through the files on the turian Spectre Saren instead of filling out his paperwork. He hated filling out form after meaningless form, but failed to convince himself that leading an investigation of Saren would be more than just a distraction from his menial desk work. So when Executor Pallin marched into his office and told him Nihlus was dead, putting him in charge of the investigation, Garrus was stunned. Finally, something meaningful to do.
The investigation proved very taxing on him. For two nights he poured over the same files, read the report about Eden Prime over and over. There simply weren't enough details, but the fact that Nihlus had turned up dead raised more than a few questions. The Spectre's actions were highly confidential, and it became obvious that he'd need more than the few days he was allotted to look into the case.
It sounded like he'd need to speak with Commander Shepard, the woman who found Nihlus' body, but Pallin wanted him to remain unbiased, and said Shepard's opinion would color how he pursued the case. That was bullshit. If Shepard and her two crew members were the only people there at Eden Prime when Nihlus had died, then how was he supposed to figure out what had happened without talking to them?
There were enough holes in Saren's history to leave Garrus suspicious anyway. It had all been hidden, swept under the rug. No one went through the trouble to hide something unless they didn't want it found, and there were clearly a lot of things Saren didn't want anyone digging up. All this added to a bullet in the back of Nihlus' head? Garrus knew Saren was guilty.
He never got the chance to prove it, as the investigation was called off. Garrus was seething and demanded to continue his work, but Pallin refused him. The Council was about to hold the meeting that would decide Saren's fate, but Garrus still didn't have any evidence to give them. Saren would be acquitted. The thought had Garrus grinding his teeth.
"Saren's hiding something. Give me more time! Stall them."
"Stall the Council?" Pallin shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. Your investigation is over, Garrus."
Hell if that would stop him. He turned to glare at the nosy human who'd listened in on the conversation. He had an automatic aversion to the species that wasn't quite outright racism. The First Contact War hadn't exactly put the two races in kinship. The things looked weird to him, with strange filaments protruding out of their skulls and soft, gel-like bodies that looked incapable of standing upright. Not to mention their colors: ugly shades of pink and brown. A turian with coloring like that would probably never find a mate.
He almost snapped at her. Then the red caught his attention. No, not red - auburn. Like the color of changing leaves. He stared at her hair stupidly for a moment before his mind registered the rest of her. He knew this human's face, or hair to be more accurate, and the ironic timing of her arrival was not lost on him. Finally he regained his composure as the woman waited patiently.
"Commander Shepard? Garrus Vakarian. I was the officer in charge of the C-Sec investigation into Saren."
The red-headed human nodded. "I gathered. It seems your investigation didn't go well."
There was a hint of sarcasm in her voice. A pang of irritation hit him as he defended himself.
"Saren's a Spectre. Most of his activities are classified. I couldn't find anything solid, but I know he's up to something." He growled. "Like you humans say, I feel it in my gut."
"I think the Council's ready for us, Commander," another human interjected.
Garrus shot the man a look of annoyance for interrupting before his eyes went back to the human in front of him. Her arms were folded in front of her, suggesting she was stand-offish - not that he knew what that body language would suggest in her own culture. Perhaps that stance was polite and reserved when coming from a human.
"Good luck, Shepard. Maybe they'll listen to you."
She clipped his shoulder as she strode past him - no, definitely not polite or reserved.
"Later, Bird."
"Enjoy your day."
She cast a quizzical look at him over her shoulder, flooding the poor turian with chagrin at his automatic response, but kept walking.
(A/N): Not entirely sure where this fic is going, so give me some input! I'll happily credit your ideas. What sort of story do you want this to be?
