The elevator doors opened revealing Commander Shepard, who purposefully strode across the garage toward Garrus, determination written on her face. The sound of her footsteps loud and clear in an otherwise silent area (low, barely perceptive hum of life support has long since ceased to bother him) successfully shattered his concentration. Garrus straighten up and turned to greet his superior officer. "Commander. How are you?"

Shepard glanced around to make sure they were alone (they were). She had to wait till the wee hours of what was perceived as "morning" on the ship, because someone (she couldn't remember who) told her once (she couldn't remember when) that it was rude to "shout about your fucking Lieutenant's issues in the middle of a hostile situation no matter how bloody right you are" or something like that. She cleared her throat.

"Fine, thank you for asking. Do you have a moment?" It's always better to be polite, in case your next words will be horribly offensive (hers never were, but still), and you'll need to dash for the door and barricade yourself in a closet to avoid brutal maiming, so afterwards at least you will be able to say you were perfectly courteous (which is true) and have no idea as to why that usually calm person suddenly went crazy and wants to pull out your lungs through your throat/crush your innards into a paste/make you eat your eyeballs etc. Or so all her previous experience led to believe.

Unaware that for most humans it would seem like a threatening grimace, Garrus smiled charmingly, bared teeth gleaming in the artificial light. "For you? Always."

Shepard fidgeted, her posture conveyed nervousness. If anyone ever asked (no one ever did), she'd tell that her only thought in that moment was 'Lots of extra sharp extra pointy teeth' put on repeat. "I'm not interrupting something important, am I?"

Looking into her wide open eyes (blue, the exact shade of his markings), he didn't even paused to think before replying, "No, not at all. I just wanted to be certain all systems work at full capacity." It wasn't a lie per se since turians do not lie as a rule. He just didn't see the point in clarifying that the results of the latest scan were unsatisfying at best, which signified that calibrations were in order, which led to him making corrections, and so he was in the process of readjusting the last characteristic to his liking and had almost finished… Yeah, better not go into details.

Shepard tugged at the hem of her uniform shirt, then clasped her hands behind her back, shifted her weight from foot to foot, blinked a couple of times and finally said, "Do you believe you are a bad person?"

"Hmm?" distracted by the colouring of her irises, Garrus almost missed her words. Almost. The question, when it actually had registered in his brain, caught him off guard. "What? No, of course not!" curiosity piqued, he added, "Why do you ask, Commander?"

She sighed steeling herself. "You said, you don't think you are a very good turian," she stated gravely, "But it really sounded more like 'not a good person' to me." The intensity of her gaze became positively unsettling.

Garrus vaguely recalled saying something to that extent, but he also remembered being sure Shepard understood it was a jest. Apparently, she didn't. Maybe he should spend more time working on his jokes, instead of machinery… "That was… not what I meant," he said awkwardly, flexing his mandibles. Recently he had become quite adept at it - being awkward.

"I implied not a proper turian. Not actually a bad turian. Person. Uh… Ahem." Barely resisting the urge to bite off his tongue, he silently berated himself, 'Your eloquence is astonishing, way to go! How do humans put it? Ah, yes, 'foot-in-mouth' disease.' He was getting rather uncomfortably intimate with this illness, which plagued him constantly as of late, but fortunately only in front of Shepard. Try as he might, Garrus couldn't discern the cause of said phenomenon.

To his surprise (and great relief), Shepard obviously didn't find anything wrong with his speech pattern. "Well, in this case, I'm glad we are in agreement," she nodded solemnly. "You are a good, even great person."

If he could, Garrus would have blushed. Luckily for him, turians physically incapable of such action. "Thanks, Commander. It means a lot." If turians were also physically incapable of mumbling, it would be even better. He repressed the urge to facepalm.

As if a switch had been turned, Shepard's mood abruptly changed: she smiled brightly, wished him sweet dreams (as if dreams can possibly have a flavour), and, whistling a happy tune (it actually was "The Imperial March", but whatever), slowly walked toward the elevator, bounce in her step. If anyone ever asked (no one ever did), she was just happy with the lack of violence - 'No teeth near any flesh, tender or otherwise'.

Bewildered by their conversation, still feeling like he might dig a hole under MACO and crawl into it Garrus stared at her retreating back, waiting until she was out of sight. Shaking his head, he muttered, "And they say women like bad guys…"