The Quiet Before the Storm
Shepard rested her head in the crook of his arm—all sharp angles and hard plates, but she didn't mind. Wiggling in a little closer, she pressed her body flush against his, stealing every last drop of warmth she could get out of the turian laying next to her. She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath; the rich, spicy scent of Garrus' filling her nostrils and settling into the crevices of her soul. She'd be lost without him; she knew it in the very fiber of her being, and she hoped some part of him knew it, too.
They say staring into Death's eyes and walking away unscathed can give you the courage to face anything. It took dying and being brought back to life in a heap of tattered scraps of flesh, bone, and cybernetic implants for Shepard to find the courage she needed, and it took every ounce. For so long, she wanted to tell Garrus she had an interest in him; something beyond the easy camaraderie they had, or the way they seemed to read each other's minds on the battlefield. Something that started long ago with the idle conversations they shared in front of the Mako back in the old days.
Even when she managed to make the leap, daring to cross that line, she took the coward's way out; laughing to keep it casual, making it all about sex—just two soldiers relieving tension together. She knew if she really put her heart out there and he turned her away … well, things would never be the same, and she needed him too much to ever let anything come between them. He was her pillar; her one solid, sure thing in all of the chaos swirling around them, nipping at their heels, and turning the galaxy into something barely even recognizable as their home.
She loved Garrus. Loved him with a passion that scared her more than whatever waited for them on the other side of the Omega 4 relay, more than facing down the reapers, hell, more than even knowing Death waited for her at the end of the mad dash to save the galaxy. No one cheats Death, he always takes his due. Cerberus stole her away from his clammy grip, but it was Shepard who owed him, and only she could make good on the debt.
Garrus hummed, a deep resonate thrum, pulling Shepard from her dark thoughts. Smiling, she rubbed her face against his soft hide and smooth plates, letting the vibrations roll through her until she could feel them on the back of her tongue. He chuckled, lifting his hand to drag a talon gently over the skin of her arm, bringing little goosebumps to the surface.
She tilted her head back, searching out the ice blue of his eyes and holding his gaze. "What's so funny, Vakarian?"
Mandibles fluttering at the sides of his face, his mouth twisted up into a grin. "Hmmm. I guess I'm still trying to understand how I got here." He paused, smile faltering as his mandibles flared. "Not uh, that I'm complaining. I like it here. Here is good. I'm just, hmm, amazed that you're alive." He dropped his gaze, running his talon along her arm again. "You're here, with me, and we just …."
Shepard raised an eyebrow, pressing her lips tight to keep from laughing at his adorable awkwardness. She thought the time for his nervousness had passed; once she got him down to her bed, stripped bare before him, he seemed to find his confidence easy enough—and in her eyes, it was well deserved. Snorting softly, she wedged a hand between his chest and her chin. "We did just …," she said, letting one corner of her mouth tug up in a lopsided smile. "Any regrets?"
He chuffed, giving her a light shake of his head. "Not at all. You?"
Shepard hummed as if she had to think about it, earning her a flick of mandible from Garrus. She rocked her head back and forth, her chin grating across the small bones in the back of her hand, before lifting her shoulder in a shrug. He chuffed and she laughed, running her fingers along the rim of his carapace.
"Not a one." She held his gaze in silence, willing time to stand still and give her just a little while longer with him.
"Sorry to interrupt, Shepard," EDI said, her voice coming through the comms in the cabin's ceiling, "but we are thirty minutes out from the Omega 4 relay, and the Illusive Man would like to speak with you."
A soft sigh escaped Shepard's lips. "Thanks, EDI." Pushing herself up, she shoved the sheets off, scooting to the edge of the bed.
Garrus' hand wrapped around her wrist, and she stopped, steeling herself before she looked back at him, knowing it wouldn't take much to convince her they could afford just a few more minutes in each other's arms.
"Shepard, I …." Hanging his head, he chuffed before turning his gaze back to her. "I just want you to know … I can't imagine doing this—any of this standing next to anyone else."
Her eyes stung with the threat of tears she didn't dare let herself shed. On hands and knees she crawled back to kneel in front of him, taking his face in both hands, and rested her forehead against his. Swallowing against the knot in her throat, she leaned in, pressing her mouth to his. He leaned into her kiss, threading his hand through her hair, a gentle purr rumbling through him. For just a few seconds more, she let herself feel everything; let her heart swell with love even as it ached in her chest, let herself feel the longing and the dread, the hope and the doubt.
"Me neither, Garrus." She pulled it all back, wrapping it up in a neat little package, the corners tight with military precision, and locked it away deep inside, slipping the mantle of 'Commander' firmly back into place. "Me neither."