"Commander, spectators of the AAA Combat Simulator have noticed that, in addition to a pistol and shotgun, you take a sniper rifle with you, as does your 'husband', Officer Vakarian. Would you care to explain why you both bring the same weapon into combat with you? Doesn't that lead to a tactical disadvantage?"
Reporters...they talked far too much. Shepard thought on the too-long question, trying to let her mind process it. It wasn't working too well, but she mostly caught "why do you both bring in sniper rifles?" That much she could handle, but it was actually something of a story, in truth. Garrus, who had placed one arm around her, gave her hip a light, encouraging squeeze. It was permission to tell the truth, if she wanted.
"It's a pretty cute story, you know," he whispered, barely audible, into her ear.
It was, for the most part, a free day today. They were going to be traveling across the galaxy, from the Rosetta Nebula to the Citadel, giving the crew a very long time to do nothing. Ace Shepard did not want to do nothing. She had been so caught up with the mission, with just stopping these abductions, that she'd only just started gaining the loyalty of the crew. Well, besides Garrus, anyway. Garrus she had helped right away, as soon as Kelly had told her that he needed her.
She had gone straight to the Crew Deck, straight to the Main Battery, and simply let him vent. She let him talk about what had happened to him, and how he was finally able to fix it. It was just the method with which he was going to fix it that had bothered her. Ace had tried to talk him down, to convince him that killing Sidonis wasn't right. Even tried standing in front of Sidonis, blocking Garrus' shot (and, despite their close friendship and all the time they spent together, she was afraid he'd pull the trigger anyway. It was a frightening thought that she had banished immediately after conjuring it). Hearing what Sidonis had done from the man himself, hearing how he wanted to die, she had moved, letting Garrus take the shot, and it was over.
It was hard to stop thinking about it. Even in her most recent assignment-finding Jacob's father surrounded by mechs and feral men trying to kill him-she couldn't help but compare what Ronald Taylor had done to Sidonis' actions. Sold his men out, betrayed them all, left them to die and decay, then ran and did everything he could to protect himself. They were the sickening acts of selfish men only looking out for themselves. She was glad they were both dead.
Those thoughts had long since dominated her mind, which wasn't even processing the information that she read on the datapad in her hands, when the door opened behind her. Ace put the datapad on her desk but did not look up from it. She didn't hear the clanking of armor, no creak of old metal that needed repairing or replacing. No, she heard the shuffling of cloth and light footsteps on the floor.
"Still working?" asked the ever-calm voice behind her; a voice she had grown to love as much as the man it belonged to, a voice that so rarely wavered like it did in the car just before a turian's murder. It was a voice that sent shivers down her spine that were near impossible to resist, and it was one that made her heart jump into her throat when she heard it. Garrus' voice.
"Always something to be done. Collectors aren't gonna boot themselves, right?" she said, still not turning from the information automatically scrolling in front of her.
"'Always something'? Not necessarily." He came closer to stand beside her, taking the datapad off of her desk. She gave him a very disapproving look when he turned it off and tossed it to the other side of the desk. "So, what do you want to do?"
"Read," she answered, irritation edging on her voice. She tried to reach for the datapad again, but he slid it farther away from her reach.
"Other than that." There was silence and simple glaring at each other for a long while. Then he, for lack of a better term, perked up and gave the turian equivalent of a small smile.
"What?"
"I have an idea. Come with me?" She hesitated for a long time before shaking her head, saying she had a lot of work to do as an excuse. Garrus scoffed. "We've got plenty of time, Shepard. Think of this as blowing off steam a little early, in a different way." She shook her head again, but instead of letting it go, he grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the chair. She hadn't been out of that chair in a long time, so her legs were falling asleep, making it difficult to resist his pull.
"Vakarian, I don't care what it is you have in mind, I want no part in it," she hissed as he forced her to move toward the elevator.
"You will when you know what it is. Trust me for a second." He didn't loosen his grip but tightened it briefly to reassure her. It felt strange for those three fingers to be around her wrist like that, but she certainly hoped it was a feeling he'd make her get used to. When the elevator door closed, he seemed to forget that he was holding her wrist and pulled her close to him before letting go, making her trip and fall into his chest. She lingered there only a moment, feeling his heat through his black and blue civvies, before pushing herself off, crossing her arms and staring at the elevator door angrily. She didn't want to go wherever they were going-she didn't bother to look and see what button Garrus had pushed-but him dragging her there was a new and, frankly, enjoyable experience. He didn't take control often, disobeyed her even less, so this sudden show of strength and dominance was something she liked, much to her surprise.
The elevator door opened to reveal the Cargo Bay. Supply crates and fans used for whatever purpose littered the area, some boxes aligned strangely neatly on the far side of the room. She'd never had any reason to come down here other than to get to the shuttle, so she had never paid attention to how messy the place was. There were empty bottles and spent thermal clips on the ground, likely from the crew's drinking and target practice down here. She'd never attended one of those meetings-too busy working or reading up on the next mission or writing reports for Miranda to send to the Illusive Man-but she knew Garrus came down here often.
"You'd better have a damn good reason for dragging your Commanding Officer down here against her will, Garrus," she growled as he brushed past her.
"Or what? You'll punish me? I thought you wanted to skip to the tie breaker." She stiffened and found herself at a loss for words. Damn, how did he do that? Mere days ago he was tripping over his words and accidentally making suggestive metaphors, but now she was the one who was unable to talk to him. She was the one standing there, unsure of how to respond.
"Why are we here, Vakarian? You stack crates for fun?" She walked out of the elevator to stand next to him, seeing the small number of bottles he had collected in one arm, the other piling on a few more.
"Not exactly." He walked over to those neatly aligned crates and placed what bottles he had in one neat row across the surface, being careful to make sure they were balanced all right. She watched as he took his attention off of the bottles and to a table to the far right of the room. He picked up two things-retracted weapons, by the look of them-and when he pressed a button on both of them they sprung out to form two sniper rifles, a Viper and an Incisor. "Here," he said, tossing her the Viper, "this one's all yours." Only Thane used sniper rifles other than Garrus, but Ace so rarely took him with her that the Viper felt new, barely touched, and strangely perfect in her hands. She was a vanguard, she had no idea how to snipe. She worked up close and personal, not quick and clean and from afar. No, she had no idea what exactly it was he was planning, but she didn't think she wanted anything to do with it.
He stood there staring at her excitedly, urging her to fire the first shot and making gestures with the gun that meant "go on, you can do it". She looked at the gun, then at him, then to the bottles. How hard could it be? She brought the scope up to her eye and aimed at the first bottle, took a breath, pulled the trigger...
And missed. Horribly. There was a tiny pockmark in the wall from her shot, and she could feel Garrus' disappointment.
"All right," he sighed, "clearly you need some practice." She grunted and brought the gun down, glaring at him.
"I don't know what you expected, you know I prefer shotguns anyway. All up close and-what was the word you used?-clumsy?"
"You just need a lesson in finesse. Lucky for you, I'm the best damn sniper on this ship." He rested his gun on his hip, trying to look impressive but looking more like a jackass.
"That's not what you said when we brought Thane aboard," she pointed out.
"That was then." She smiled at that, rolling her eyes. He retracted his rifle into its rectangular shape, then put it back on the table before walking all the way back again to stand next to her. "Hold it like you did before you fired." She grudgingly obeyed. She hated taking orders rather than issuing them. "You know," he continued unnecessarily, "before you missed."
"All right, Vakarian, just tell me what to do."
"Bring the scope up to your eye and act like you're trying to aim." She did so, keeping her left eye closed while her arm started to shake from having to hold up this heavy gun. You don't have to hold up a shotgun, not at this angle, she thought, no, you carry it around until you point and shoot, that's it. "Shepard," he said, interrupting her thoughts, "try to keep both eyes open." It was more difficult than he made it sound. The bottles became blurry and it was difficult to focus or look through the scope, so she closed her eye again on instinct. He sighed.
"Shit, you'd better do what you're gonna do fast, Vakarian, before my arm gives out," she complained through gritted teeth.
"First of all, you're not supporting it right. Here." He came up to her and got the butt of the rifle out from under her arm and up against her shoulder, and the instant relief surged through her arm. "Completely wrong. No wonder you missed so terribly."
"Shut up. What next." It wasn't a question. More of a demand, really. She was already tired of taking orders. She almost wanted the final push against the Collectors to come early, just to show him that she wanted to be in charge in multiple situations.
"You're still holding it funny." He moved to stand behind her, putting both of his hands over both of hers. He naturally ran hot, a sharp contrast to her cold skin, his chest pressed up against her back, his warm breath brushing against her ear. As he positioned the rifle from behind, she hoped he was too busy setting up the gun to see what his visor was no doubt telling him about the spike in her heart rate. She hoped that he was too focused to notice the involuntarily ragged breath she released when he had come up behind her. She was so focused on her worries, her fears, that she jumped when the sound of gunfire and broken glass exploded through the air. She hadn't even realized his finger had gone over hers and had pulled the trigger for her.
"See," he said, oblivious, "like that."
"Yeah. Like that." Her voice was light and soft, only a little more than a whisper. She forced herself to regain her composure and tried to sift through the vague mumblings she could barely remember through her haze of worry and frustration, lifting the scope to her eye again. Using what he'd taught her-or, tried to teach her-she pulled the trigger and hit the second bottle on its side, making it spin backwards and eventually off of the crate with a loud shatter.
"See, you've got it. Maybe at some point we can get you some live training."
"What, you mean, bring this thing into combat? I'm no good at sneaking." She brought the gun down again.
"Exactly, and 'practice makes perfect,' right?" Right, she'd been trying to teach him dumb human sayings. Clearly not her best move.
"Yeah. Yeah, right, 'practice makes perfect.'" She got her live training almost immediately after coming back up to the CIC. Kelly told her that the Illusive Man needed her attention for whatever reason, and he led Ace's crew to a "derelict" Collector ship. There had been a Viper there, just lying on the ground with an Avenger assault rifle and a Claymore shotgun. She had picked up the Viper, seeing Garrus nod slightly in approval from the corner of her eye. And, as it turned out, she was actually quite good at sneaking.
"Commander Shepard?"
Her attention was brought back to reality when the reporter spoke again. The memory had been a nice one, one she wanted to keep for a long time. Nearly four years after the Reaper War, and that was still one of her favorite memories of her time with Garrus. She still had that old Viper. He'd kept it with him, left it for her to find on Menae. It was a good gun.
"Right, yes, the question," Ace started. The reporter lifted her datapad and let her finger hover above it eagerly. "Suffice it to say, for now," she began the answer, crossing one arm over her stomach, "that we really want that kind of finesse on the battlefield to run in the family."