Author's Note: I always wanted to write a Shakarian romance, and decided to squeeze in between my other work in progress. This will probably take a few chapters at most, but who knows how it will turn out! Feedback is most welcome!
Commander Elena Shepard of the Normandy, once one of the top engineers of the Alliance, was officially out of her mind. One moment, she and Garrus were in the Main Battery, talking about war prep. Next thing, she's blurting out that they should blow off steam in the most inelegant way possible. You always had your way with words, she thought bitterly as she scrubbed the grime and blood off her body. It's a miracle that I haven't started a new inter-species war lately. Sighing with nervousness, she stepped out of the shower to dry.
She knew why she felt drawn to him. Garrus had been there for her-unlike many other "friends" who chose not to do so. He never questioned her reason to fight Collectors, never questioned her deal with Cerberus. He had given her a scrutinizing look in Omega, nodded, and had begun shooting everything in sight. "Just like old times," he had said. He and Shepard fit in combat, taking turns to overload enemy shields, setting mercenaries aflame, or dragging each other to the Med-Bay so Dr. Chakwas could patch them up. Garrus would look at her and just know what needed to be said or done. He had grown from his C-Sec days, and Shepard could notice it in his slight swagger. Of course Shepard noticed it since she would be following him on purpose. But what set her blood on fire was his voice. Her nerve cells would melt anytime he would go on about calibrations. He crooned as he would go on about how he could increase the Thanix Cannon accuracy by .76 percent, and Shepard would need to use all her military training to not request calibrations for herself.
Either way, Elena was sure she had nothing to lose. Even if they made a fool of themselves, it's not like they would live to remember it, would they? This was one of the rare moments where this morbid line of thinking cheered her up. She applied ointment on her unruly mess of black curls, and fought to untangle them with her brush. She carefully put on her eyeliner and mascara- the only makeup she habitually used, and got up to pick an outfit to set the mood.
Just then, her door flipped open and revealed a dressed-up Garrus, with a bottle of wine. He scanned Shepard's almost-naked form, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Shepard, I'm sorry. I can come back later…"
Elena shook her head while she tightened her robe. "No need to apologize Garrus. How can I send you back when you already brought the booze?"
That drew a laugh from Garrus, his flanging voice giving Shepard the goose bumps. "Well, when you put it like that, how can I not get comfortable?" He sauntered over to the coffee table to fill the two glasses, and took a swig. His gaze never left Elena's. "For the record, I still think we're crazy to consider this, let alone try."
Elena slowly walked up to Garrus. "There is nobody I would prefer to be with." She stood on tiptoe to run her hand gently across his bandaged face. "Trust me."