~ Finding The Heart ~
Friends and Lovers
Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the intellectual property of Bioware, not mine.
WARNING: Rated MA. 16yrs+ readers only please. Foul language, adult concepts.
Author note: I've purposefully tried not to describe Shepard too much, after all, fans of Mass Effect will each have their own versions of Shepard, so I leave those parts up to your imagination. Unfortunately the English language does not allow me to be so easily ambiguous about gender – sorry I had to pick one!
"Garrus!" Shepard barked, "If I have to tell you one more time to get your Turian butt back into cover I'm going to come over there and shoot you myself!" and to herself more quietly: "Damned Turian's trying to make me die of a heart attack just for spite I swear... He's never forgiven me for dying without him..."
"Scratch THREE!" – Garrus yelled back – cocky as ever.
"Sometimes I wonder how you contained his enthusiasm in his youth." Samara remarked, having slipped gracefully into cover beside her.
"Sometimes I'm reminded that his youth wasn't all that long ago..." Shepard replied with shots incoming, whizzing over her head. Samara popped out of cover and a moment later there were screams coming from the same direction.
"You've got to teach me how to do that one day." Shepard nodded in the direction of the screams of agony and Samara smiled modestly amidst a swirling purple haze like the one that now enveloped the shooters.
"It requires extensive meditation before one is able to hone biotic abilities sufficiently so that the field, whilst harming one's foes, also replenishes one's own health." She briefly turned her wizened smile to Shepard and very nearly winked (the two of them now having spent enough time together to almost be swapping mannerisms); "It would take some time to teach you."
Garrus was back up again, of course: shooting the writhing bodies. "Garrus!" Shepard yelled at him again when she spotted several more mercenaries – one with a rocket launcher – enter the killing field some hundred metres ahead. Catching his eye to scold him for not spotting them himself, she nodded in their direction. His eyes narrowed – a predatory declaration that he knew what he was doing and that he had spotted them – as he began to turn toward that group. He sniped one of the group smoothly in the head as he continued the turn spiralling downward... Falling, gracefully, back into cover with a thud that was rendered inaudible above the sound of a rocket exploding upon impact, the other side of the rock he was hiding behind.
"Make that four." He stated loudly.
"I might have been impressed if you'd have hit the one with rockets." Shepard pulled a sarcastic smile that quickly transformed into a grimace, as another two rockets impacted and exploded the other side of her rock. She let out an irritated sharp sigh and used her helmet comm to comment to her two team-mates:
"Great. That means we didn't managed to wipe out the last wave before someone in that group informed the next group of our position. Time to move."
"Remind me again why we are doing this?" Shepard asked aloud to anyone who had a decent answer as she advanced to the next cover point during a break in the fire - the mercs were likely reloading and judging from the state of her present cover, she needed a new rock to hide behind before the next hail of bullets and explosions started to rain. She eyed up another piece of cover just ahead of where Samara had gone.
Garrus, having laid down suppressing fire, decided he had an answer for her as he popped the heat sink and loaded in a new one: "Enjoying the sunshine, admiring the scenery, and getting paid for it." Meet Garrus. King of the sarcastic smart-assed comment. Shepard's response to that was punctuated by the sound of rockets exploding against the rock she had just dived behind:
"NOT-"
[FfffssssBANG!]
"-GETTING PAID-"
[ffsssssBANG]
"-ENOUGH!"
[ffsssssssBANG!]
Thank the goddess for noise cancelling earplugs, but impacts at such close range still set her ears to ringing because the noise rang through the rock and her entire body. Sparing a glance at the field ahead she chanced it: diving towards another boulder with better vantage, passing Garrus as she did so. She was just about to poke her head up when Garrus yelled her name - she knew that tone.
She ducked down as fast as she could, covering her eyes as the sound of a thousand windows being smashed a-little-too-close-for-comfort erupted beside her – Cryo grenades... my favourites... Her armour temporarily locked up, but brute cybernetic strength got it loose a little sooner than the mercs would have expected. Nonetheless instinct kept her head down just as a bullet screamed past where her head had been – that was from Garrus, firing from the opposite direction. Shepard pulled her 'not impressed' face again.
"No more rockets." Garrus yelled forward to her gleefully and if Turians could smile Shepard was sure he'd have a proper smug one across his face right now. She rolled her eyes. He was the only person she trusted to snipe over her shoulder like that – they were old hands at this game, and he knew her reactions as well as she did. Still, sometimes he cut it a little too close for comfort.
After the dust cleared and the ringing in her ears stopped she waved a cursory thank you to Garrus. "OK let's wrap this up!" She yelled back, and they advanced – biotics flaring and guns blazing...
Zaeed did not think much of this enforced 'thinking time'. He'd far rather be out there where the killing was, but it wasn't the first time Shepard hadn't taken him on a mission. He knew her style by now – she regularly tried to rotate who she took with her on missions unless there was some particular advantage to having a specific member of the squad with her. Garrus – the lucky bastard – seemed to get picked a little more often than most though. He'd noticed that.
Today though, Shepard had actually given him a reason for not inviting him along for the fun. It was the shittiest reason he'd ever been given for being pulled off a job: he was being given "time to think", oh and "time to heal" – time to sit on his backside and mope or die of goddamned boredom, more like... he surmised to himself. S'pose I should have something to say to her though when she gets back, or she'll never let me get back to business.
Bloody annoying as it was, he still couldn't really complain too much. The daft bitch genuinely seemed to give a shit. First time a woman had done that in years, well since Alice really – and she was the first woman who'd ever done that, including his own mother as best he could recall. Besides... At least the time he had spent with Shepard had given him plenty to think about when she wasn't around. Not that he was about to tell her that, of course: ...That his hours spent away from her were not spent on cool internal reflection and 'emotional healing' but spent instead reminiscing over hot sex with her and dreaming up dirty scenarios for when she got back.
He had already concocted a plan for how he was going to jump her in the lift one of these mornings, leave her all hot and flustered before starting her shift. Ha! He was pretty sure he could get the right result without having to remove a single item of her clothing too... He smirked at the thought. Then he remembered where she was now and that he hadn't been invited and began to sulk and feel restless again.
Alright, alright. He tossed the tattered hardback antique he'd been reading into the crate that contained his scant wardrobe. Enough was enough. He'd spent seventeen hours fantasising over her body, the sounds she made, things he'd like to see her in, things he'd like to do to her or have done to him by her. He'd also read another three chapters of Moby Dick: The Whale (damned good book – he was on his seventh read), sharpened several knives, cleaned all his rifles, and yes... He had thought about what she'd said about visiting Alice's grave again.
Shepard was right, he hadn't said goodbye, not really. She was right... he probably should. She was right – as per bloody usual. Better to get it done and out of the way – then get back to being a big goddamn hero again, he thought with a smirk. He was eager to leave the past behind and start over, he was determined to move on. He honestly felt like he could. Besides, Shepard gave him more hopes for 'the future' than he really knew where to start with. Kinky retirement, if we live that long...
Either way, life was well worth living at the moment so he wanted to get on with it – come Reapers and the end of civilisation or not – such things made no difference to Zaeed once he'd come to that conclusion. Give it all you've got until it kills you. That was just the way he thought. He'd cheated death far too many times to want to sit around moping – or as he'd put it "waiting for death to catch up" – not now he'd actually got reasons not to be bored of living.
So now to the task at hand – being able to show and convince Shepard he was done courting death. He thought about Alice's grave, and what he was going to do when he got to it. She'll probably offer to come with me, he thought of Shepard - bless 'er cotton socks... He shook his head and smiled with mild irritation. He knew deep down he'd pretty much healed as much as he could anyway – she had done that – even if the scars would always remain. What happened to Alice happened a very long time ago, even if he had only found out about it recently. This was just... ceremony.
He was still glad of the opportunity though – to say goodbye properly. Alice did deserve that much. It was also good internal symbolism for his letting go and of moving on. Hark at that – I'm speaking goddamn Chambers. Truth was Zaeed always had believed in symbols, in rituals, although none of the ones he followed could ever be called 'culture', 'tradition' or 'religion' by other people's standards. He ran his fingers over the chain around his neck: I guess I'll be taking you off too, when I go... and I'll be leaving you there.
When Garrus exited the lift, Shepard followed. They were both weary from having only just returned to the Normandy, but it was now or never. She stopped first for some sickly-sweet black Sri Lankan tea before following where he'd walked, removing her helmet and taking a sip before pressing for access to the Forward Batteries. The door sprang open and Garrus was already staring at his console. She did wonder if really he'd been waiting for her, or at least waiting for this very conversation... He must have heard by now about her "date".
A lump set in her throat when she then tried to speak: "Garrus." She cleared it. "Got a minute to talk?"
"I was in the middle of some calibrations before you summoned me for the last mission but I guess I can wait a little longer before seeing the results." Turning to face her he asked: "What's on your mind, Shepard?" Piercing blue eyes stared into hers with a directness that made her falter.
His eyes flickered to the sight of her carrying her helmet with an internal tut: Turian military habits die hard – Secure everything. Anything you leave lying around could become a health-hazard if artificial gravity gets disabled, or the ship takes a hit and suddenly changes vector. Your helmet could knock you cold. A screwdriver could become a flying stake that impales you to the wall... 'Death by tea cup'. It happens. That last bit was a new addition to an old drill that he'd added himself, after watching a very old film from Shepard's archives about a rebellious, violent-minded and yet somehow do-right escaped prison convict who somehow saves the galaxy.
"Garrus." Shepard moved towards the bench and sat down there, setting her helmet down beside her. "I respect your opinions. More than that you're my friend." There was a slight pause while she nursed the cup of steaming-hot Sri Lankan tea before she added: I want you to tell me if you think I'm losing it."
She frowned then looked up at him, deadly serious. He immediately knew where the conversation was going, but swallowed his dread. 'Relationships' was one topic their friendship had never really ventured forth to cover before. In all honesty, romantic affairs were never a topic Garrus felt he could give good advice on, having never been in one that lasted long enough to call a 'relationship' anyway. Knowing who she was dating added twice the difficulty.
"You're talking about the fact that you're bunking with the kind of guy I'd have probably liked to hunt down and kill, if I'd have known his history and he'd been on Omega when my team was active." He walked to the corner by the door and folded his arms. Anyone who couldn't read Turian faces might not know he was smiling smugly at that moment, revelling in the awkwardness now painted across Shepard's face. It was his way of taking the high ground.
"You noticed that, huh?" She drained the last of her tea from the cup painfully hot and set it down beside her. She then rolled one hand around the other's fist and propped up her chin, elbows resting on her knees. She stared at the floor. It was already an even more painful a conversation than she'd already expected it to be - without the scolding-hot tea.
"Huh." Garrus scoffed: "I guess you could say that. But your first date wasn't exactly a covert operation."
"Not my choice." She pulled a face and tried not to smile at the fact that she had enjoyed seeing the look on everyone else's faces as she and Zaeed had walked down that corridor. Garrus let loose a dry snuffle – a sound she'd come to understand as a special kind of Turian laugh, one that mocks with disbelief what another person has just said. Perhaps he'd picked up that almost smile - he was definitely better at reading human expressions than most of the non-human crew. She knew how absurd it had sounded anyway: he idea that anyone could coerce Shepard into doing something she really didn't want to do was unheard of until now.
"You mean it wasn't your idea..." Garrus narrowed his eyes at her and Shepard conceded with a nod. He relaxed his expression: "I guessed as much. Nevertheless I think you should know you'd be hard pushed to find a crew member that doesn't know the two of you are together now."
"Well that's reassuring to know." Shepard face-palmed. It was no worse than she suspected, but hearing it spoken out loud by someone else really made it hit home.
"Never knew you had a thing for scars, Shepard." That got a laugh, and the tension eased from her shoulders a little. It was a joke, mostly... Or at least interspecies romance was never something Garrus had ever properly considered, or would ever admit to himself that he had. If Shepard had been a Turian he'd have likely tripped over his tongue on his way to falling for her – flat on his face – about two minutes after their first meeting. Shepard exuded power and honour in a way he'd never witnessed before laying eyes on her – a rare combination indeed and highly valued in Turian culture. But she was human. He was Turian. That was that.
"Hey don't get any funny ideas." She jested with a wave of her hand, and the status of their friendship was affirmed, but she might not be too glad of that in ten minutes time... To Garrus she was like his sister and his best friend, all rolled into one. She was someone he could depend on and someone he felt strongly enough about to die defending. So he wasn't about to go easy on her about this... which looked like the perfect example of self-destructive behaviour in his eyes.
His sister had a crush on a bad guy in movie once... She got an hour-long lecture about why she shouldn't be attracted to him. Still, from that experience he'd learned that even when reason is provided, a person can't ignore that spark of attraction. So he wouldn't tell Shepard what he really thought about them being together, although he had not vowed to be so restrained about what he thought of the man himself.
Having protective instincts towards Shepard could, of course, get him into trouble with her. Even his sister had laid down the law that he had no right to declare that her love interests must pass his qualification criteria before they dated. Nor did he have the right to beat to a bloody pulp any unqualified candidates, much as in this instance he would be inclined to do. The plates on his spine prickled every time he thought about that insubordinate merc touching Shepard... but he blinked those thoughts away and instead focused his attention on observing her reactions. Humans had a myriad of tells and it was hard to keep track of them all at once if you didn't focus.
Shepard sighed, and rubbed her forehead. "Frankly I would never have even dreamed about this happening – not with him." Her hand gestured as she spoke to Garrus' boots, recalling various memories relevant to the conversation. "We've had far more than our fair share of fights. Half the time I don't know whether I've been lucky to have him around – to serve as a reminder of all the things I stand for because he's the exact opposite – or whether I should have thrown him out of the nearest airlock the first moment we met." She looked up to see Garrus nodding appreciably – readily in agreement with that statement, but he was holding something back (she could tell).
"Well now," His tone took to teasing, "if this is how you go about contemplating your lovers Shepard – weighing up whether or not you want to toss them out of an airlock – I glad I'm not top of your list. No offence." He cocked his head on one side and threw her a Turian smirk.
She pulled a face back – "None taken." – and continued with her original line of thought. "Maybe. Maybe I could have seen myself falling for one the crew, eventually – some time down the line after we all managed to get through this thing alive and had time enough to think about that sort of thing. But to be perfectly honest I'd have thought myself more likely to date you than him, no offence." She looked up and threw her old friend a smirk of her own.
Garrus shook his head and hardened his eyes at her with a predatory grin. "None taken." What is it humans so often say..? "Touché. Well it's still nice to know I was somewhere on your list..." He joked and shrugged with this look of unflappable nonchalance. "For a moment there I was worried my overwhelming charm was wearing off."
Shepard shook her head and smiled, she had always loved his quick wit and smart-ass retorts, even if she could have killed him for them on occasion. "You know what? You and your ego should consider dating." He laughed at that. There was a long pause after that though, as he waited until she finally found the words she'd really come here to ask of her old friend:
"Alright. Honest opinion: do you think I'm losing it?"
Confronted with the anxiety in her expression and the opportunity to voice his true opinion, suddenly Garrus found he couldn't give it – well not all of it – without first considering all things in an unbiased fashion. To be honest he had rather counted on that happening: he knew if she didn't ask his opinion, he'd stew, but being presented with freedom of expression threw him into investigative mode and made him think more carefully about what he was going to say. After a pause he sighed and began his answer:
"I've heard humans say sometimes that 'opposites attract'. I can't think of a better example than you two..." Garrus laughed. That brought a worried smile to her face. He dropped his arms and paced closer. "Look, if you'd have asked me what I thought of the idea before you did it, I'd have been seriously concerned." The worry painted on her face turned to bitter acknowledgement. That made Garrus question why he'd clearly touched a nerve – what reason has she found to feel attached to him? Obviously it's not his dazzling personality... Shepard dropped her head into her hands – clearly expecting worse to come – which led Garrus to frown at the evidence presented in front of him: But it's clearly more than just sex. Garrus turned to face Shepard as he took a stab at the only possible explanation remaining that made any sense as to why she of all people would find this man attractive:
"But something about him has changed..."
Her face lit up with hope he'd not seen in her eyes since before Virmire - he was on the right line of questioning. Garrus was not a fan of anybody who demonstrated moral flexibility - something that Zaeed seemed to have in abundance - but he was sure Shepard wasn't either. At the same time, he had to admit Zaeed had actually been fun to work a lot of the time. He could have shared a drink with the man at a bar for that.
...But then there was the past month or so where he'd been an intolerable irritation and quite worthy of ass-kicking. It was as if somebody had taken the lid off him and he was being just about as bad as he could be. By the time Shepard stepped in, Garrus actually thought Zaeed would be leaving the Normandy in a body-bag. And then... as if by miracle after She'd talked to him that day... He's back to his old self... except not. Not when Garrus thought about that a little more deeply... The past week felt like Zaeed had had some sort of a personality transplant. He was really making an effort to mend bridges with such sincere earnest that Garrus had been quite confused. He was sure a man as proud as that old bounty hunter was would never gone to such lengths. Getting on our good side to please Shepard? Maybe. Except that would have been easy enough to tell, and not many people on this ship would have fallen for it – least of all Shepard.
"He's not the same man." Garrus stated with reluctant admission. "- I can see that. I don't think you're losing it." He threw her that trusting stare of sincerity he used when he was offering reassurance. The pieces were beginning to fall into place. "He's different. My guess is you know it, he knows it, and you both lost your footing." Garrus surprised even himself with that insight.
"Meaning we used to know where we stood with one another, and now we don't – because he's changed?" Shepard's face relaxed, as it did when she felt like she was onto a solution.
Garrus turned away and shrugged his shoulders: "You feel like the ground just got pulled out from under you." Garrus did have to wonder what had changed such a man so sufficiently for Shepard to find him attractive, but he could save those questions for another time perhaps.
"Couldn't have described it better myself." She replied and looked up at him in a way he never would have expected: she looked at him as if in this moment he held all the answers and she held all the questions. He'd always been in her shoes before now. This was the first time those roles had ever been truly reversed.
"I can't tell you it's right Shepard." He shrugged by way of apology, feeling unable has he did to truthfully tell her what she might want to hear. In the back of his mind Garrus also knew from long years of C-Sec service that people don't easily change their habits or their values.
On the plus side that meant Zaeed most likely couldn't corrupt Shepard's even if he tried. She had too much integrity and was herself through and through. On the flip side however that same logic likewise applied to Zaeed: it was doubtful Shepard could change his habits or values long-term. In fact she could do that no more than he could change himself... Barring the sorts of things that can happen to a person that make them turn their life around, which are the sorts of things that are just as likely to kill a person or make them worse, not better... At least in Garrus' experience.
He shrugged and shook his head, deciding he wouldn't tell her that. Instead he took the line: "Hell I can't say I think romancing anybody is a sane thing to do considering what we're up against." Meaning the danger of crumbling when you lose someone that close to you (like I did when she died), meaning the danger of caving into blackmail when their welfare is held for ransom... But Shepard deserved more faith than fretting over her likelihood to succumb to such manipulation. She'd earned it.
He turned to face her again, with a penetrating stare: "Then again if you don't take what you can get now who knows when you'll get another chance?" He spoke those words as they came to him, and it was suddenly brought home to Garrus that Shepard deserved happiness – every bit as much as the people she was trying to save – and that she had damn well earned the right to choose how she would achieve it for herself.
There was a long pause, and Shepard nodded slowly. "Thanks... Garrus." Shepard smiled. It was a smile Garrus had not seen in in a long time. Last time he saw her smile like that was the day he walked into the briefing room straight from the operating table (Dr Chackwas' objections duly noted) when he took a rocket to the face on Omega.
Time was he caught her smiling like that at Alenko back on the Normandy SR1 – an indefinable relief just to have him around... Until Alenko found himself on the wrong side of the numbers on Virmire. It had been hard not seeing her smile so often after that, but Garrus had always respected Shepard for the choice she'd made that day – she hadn't faltered, even when faced with such a difficult decision as leaving behind someone she had grown very attached to. He wasn't about to lose faith in her now.
"No problem." He shrugged, then pointed a finger at her: "And if it doesn't work out or he gives you any trouble you can't -" He paused... She scowled... And he quickly rephrased: "don't want to be bothered dealing with... I'll knock him cold, strip him naked and dump him unconscious outside C-Sec, along with a list of all his offences tied around his neck."
Shepard laughed out loud in surprise and shook her head. "Garrus..."
"Oh I can do the digging and find out what he's done, mark my words – there's bound to be plenty of things I could nail him with if needs be. Plus I could always leave some room for creative flair..." He unfurled a fist in Shakespearian melodrama, with added impact for the flexibility his fingers had to unfurl without the boned joints a human hand would have, and looked towards the ceiling as if for inspiration.
Shepard's face turned sober. "Garrus." She scowled at him, but it was a humorous scowl: she was grateful for the sentiment. Then her face turned deathly cold, thinking about the darker truth in all of that. "Actually... that's one of the things that bothers me... There's many things he's done that I know about and don't like... I wonder sometimes about the things I don't know." Garrus watched her for a moment – reassured by the fact that clearly she had not forgotten that Zaeed was more than likely a criminal with a string of offences to his name.
She sighed and shook her head. "And in any case, can people ever really change? Can criminals ever turn into productive members of society?" She looked at Garrus as he was the one to have more experience on that front than herself. Of course if anyone else had asked her the same question, she'd have had a confident and optimistic answer. Helena Blake was a good reason to foster hope... But then Rana Thanoptis then sprang to mind and Shepard couldn't help but have doubts.
"Depends on the criminal." Garrus shrugged and raised his brows in honesty, "Depends on what made them the way they are, and therefore what can unmake them." He folded his arms. "Some are just too far gone while others clearly have some cross-wired neurons in their brains and crazy doesn't get fixed through rehab." He rubbed his forehead with a forefinger. "Others... Well if the change doesn't break them then they can become pretty amazing people." He gestured with a hand as memories of C-Sec came flooding back to remind him of that:
"One of the best C-sec officers I ever met was herself previously a career-criminal. She used her knowledge of the criminal underworld to do her job, and she did it very well. She tended to keep her head down though – not everyone appreciated working with an ex-criminal and not everyone believed she'd really given up that life. Still..." Garrus shrugged. "I guess she's a good example that there's always hope."
"I know what you mean. I suppose I just wish I knew for sure I wasn't setting myself up for some horrible fall later down the line." Shepard pulled a helpless smile as she shrugged.
"Risk nothing, gain nothing. Just don't sacrifice your principles." Garrus' cocky smile was back.
"That something I said or one of yours?" Shepard stood up, satisfied she'd talked about what she'd wanted to talk about, and feeling a little better for it. Garrus had settled himself leaning against his console with his arms crossed.
"Neither... well, both actually. First part's mine, second part is what you taught me." The latter part he said with a respectful tilt of his head.
Shepard half-smiled, nodded and walked towards the door, helmet tucked under her arm and empty cup in her other hand. Turning to remark over her shoulder she replied: "It's good advice."
He bowed his head and watched as the doors closed behind her. He was glad to have made her feel better, and he was reassured that at least she wasn't going into anything blind – she was still the Shepard that had inspired him. Still... there was something about Zaeed that continued to niggle at his nerves. Am I... jealous? He'd never been jealous of Kaidan. Back then of course he had idolised Shepard, so would never have courted her anyway. It was only recently that he had begun to see himself and Shepard as equals. Honestly if she had she been Turian that would have certainly catapulted him into thinking about the prospect of getting her attention.
But the truth was that before the last week, Kaidan was the standard he'd assumed she was interested in: human, and pretty by human standards. Garrus rewound the conversation they'd just had and realised that the comment he'd made about not knowing she had a thing for scars might have had a little deeper meaning. Still, he reminded himself she'd never shown any interest outside of her species, and for that matter until right this second, neither had he. No. Garrus would far rather interpret the prickle that had set between his plates to be his protective instincts kicking in, because in the back of his mind he perceived Zaeed to represent a real threat to Shepard, albeit perhaps without any intention to harm her on the part of Zaeed. That, he was realising, was the hard part.
On second thought: this was one occasion where he'd prefer to be a stupid, rash young male Turian with an impossible crush, rather than the aged-hardened right-hand of Shepard having developed impeccable instincts and a nose for trouble. Unfortunately, the more he thought about it, the more the latter felt true and his instincts were telling him to watch out for trouble with Zaeed. Realising he'd been staring at the wall for quite some time Garrus sighed and turned back to his console. Maybe I will do some digging on Zaeed... Just in case... Damn I hope I'm wrong...
REFERENCE:
"Death by tea cup." – small nod to the character Riddick played by Vin Diesel from a conversation featured in The Chronicles of Riddick (2004), directed by David Twohy. title/tt0296572/