Old Temptations
Chapter 2: Precipice
By Lady Marionette
Summary: A visit to Palaven yields unexpected reunions that lead to Garrus and Alena having to make some difficult decisions.
Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to Bioware, as does Garrus.
Standing in their quarters, Garrus fingered the charred armor, sighing regretfully as he set it down on the seat. "It was a good set, too," he grumbled.
Alena came up behind him, carefully wrapping her arms around his waist as she avoided his injuries. "We can get you a new hardsuit, you know."
"It's kind of hard to find something better than this."
"Better than a scorched, hole-riddled piece of metallic Swiss cheese?" she asked, brow raised.
He gave her a look. "I don't know what 'Swiss cheese' is, but yeah. It was a custom design…I commissioned it before I went off the radar."
"So aside from sentimental value, what's so great about this hardsuit in particular?"
"You mean aside from helping me survive that gunship attack on Omega?" he asked dryly. "It's made with materials and tech not normally found in standard off-the-rack armors. It was designed to my measurements and needs specifically…some of which was extended wear, proprietary plating, heavy fire deflection, flexibility—" he ignored her snicker – "and advanced shielding systems."
"Doesn't sound like it would come cheap," she admitted, leaning against the wall.
"No," he said wryly, "it definitely didn't come cheap. But I got what I paid for."
Alena stepped around him to pick up the heavy collar, twisting it this way and that. "Well…we can try and see if someone can repair it, but there's no way I can let you go with me on an away team wearing this in its current state."
He sighed, taking the collar from her hands. "I know that."
She hid her smile as he fussed over the armor. He liked to pretend he was beyond such attachments, but she knew he was rather fond of certain possessions…hardsuit and rifle notwithstanding. "Well…if you tell me where you commissioned it we can go and see about getting it repaired."
He balked. "It's a little out of the way, Alena."
"Stop being so stubborn and just tell me, Garrus." When he hesitated, she raised a brow. "I don't want to be mean about this…but if you don't spill it, I fear there will be 'problems' with the chef's requisition orders…certain foods might be 'forgotten'…foods of the red fruity kind."
His eyes narrowed. "You're a cruel woman."
She grinned, unashamed. "We have nothing else on our immediate itinerary, Garrus. We've already forwarded the data from the refinery to the Hierarchy and warned them of the mechs, so…" she shrugged.
He mulled it over. "It's on Palaven," he said with a grimace.
She wrapped her arms around his waist again, smiling up into his eyes as he stared in the distance. "You say that so dramatically. It's not that big of a deal. We can swing by Palaven and get it repaired. Then you can have your hardsuit back, you'll be happy, and we can be on our way. Quick and simple."
"Nothing's ever quick and simple," he muttered.
"Why? Afraid we'll run into some old friends?"
"It's possible," he admitted, rubbing her back in slow circles. "It's only an hour or two from my hometown, so I wouldn't be surprised."
She smiled. "We could visit your family."
"No." He said it so quickly and forcefully she pulled back a bit in surprise.
"No? Why not? Are you afraid of what your family will say about us?" She felt not a little hurt at the thought.
"No," he repeated, gentler this time as he pressed his forehead against hers, "It's not that. When I left…I didn't tell anyone, anyone, what I was doing or where I was going. Not my old friends at C-Sec…not my co-workers…not any of the old squad…not even my family. I had commissioned the armor weeks in advance while training for Spectre candidacy; so far as the store owner was concerned, it was in anticipation of passing. As soon as I picked it up, I left and went off the map. To my family, I'm already dead."
"Garrus…" her hands cupped his face but he shook his head and continued.
"My father had strongly disapproved of me quitting C-Sec and joining you to take down Saren. When I returned to the Citadel and turned C-Sec's offer down…well…let's just say it wasn't pretty."
Alena felt her heart drop for him. "You mean he…"
"He stopped just short of formally disowning me," Garrus admitted in clipped tones. "I haven't looked back. You know me…I like to do things my own way. Besides…" he continued more quietly, "I don't want to come back into their lives when we very well may not survive this quest of ours. I'm already dead to them. If we…if we fail…it won't have changed anything for them. But if they know I'm alive…and we fail…then they'll have lost me twice over. For all my father's a C-Sec man to the bone…and he's as by the book as they come…I don't think he or my mother could bear losing their son twice."
She stood up on her toes to press a light, lingering kiss against his mouth and he tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her closer as he deepened it. They pulled apart and she nuzzled him. "Alright, Garrus, I understand. I won't push it; we'll just go to this shop of yours and get the armor repaired."
He smiled, pressing his forehead against hers. "Thank you."
Normally Alena enjoyed her pre-docking preparations. Visiting new planets was always a thrill and she loved that sense of the facing the unknown, especially when it was for shore leave. It was also usually a very relaxing task, laying out outfits for long stays as well as all the paraphernalia required for a trip. "Usually" was the operative word.
"Garrus, I think that's—would you stop already?" She batted his hands away as she tried to hug her way around a chair.
Garrus scowled. "Alena, the radiation on Palaven is much higher than what your species is designed to handle. You have no natural protection. If you don't wear this, you'll be burnt within minutes."
She gave a long suffering sigh as he gripped her and continued applying the thick lotion to her face. "It makes my skin itch," she muttered.
He chuckled as he covered every inch with the shimmery substance. "You'll be grateful for it when you see what the tourists look like. Now for your head…"
Alena ducked away. "You aren't putting that in my hair," she crossed her arms, staring him down defiantly.
He sighed. "You'll burn up there."
"I'll wear a hat."
He opened his mouth then closed it. "Alright, but make sure you stand in the shade as much as possible. Now hold out your arms."
"I know this is hard to believe, but I'm a big girl now. I can take care of myself."
Garrus snorted. "Sure you can. What's that place on the wards called? Where you were drunk-dancing on the tables while singing a rather colorful rendition of the Alliance anthem? Loved the improv, by the way…I'll never look at hanar or volus the same way again." He pulled back when she beat at his shoulder, a grin on his face. "And then you started that strip-tease pole dance for those two krogan. That was an interesting experience."
She scoffed and blushed. "Well nothing happened since you were there," she muttered.
"Yeah, I stopped you before you got to your…uh…underthings. For a moment I thought the whole bar would tear me apart for that…but that's my point. Sometimes you need to be willing to let me take care of you, Alena."
"I don't need anyone to take care of me," she growled stubbornly. He raised a brow. "Okay," she exclaimed, "maybe I could use a little help sometimes." She beat his shoulder again with a fist.
"Then will you let me help you now?"
He watched her in silent amusement. When she refused to cooperate he stepped closer, forcing her back against the wall. Caging her with his arms, he leaned close to graze his mouth along her cheek. "Don't make me play dirty," he teased.
He planted a soft kiss along her jaw line and then trailed small kisses down her neck to the juncture with her shoulder. His warm puffs of breath tickled and caused a shiver to dance up her spine as her skin puckered into goose bumps. Carefully he placed a hot, restrained kiss at the juncture, scraping and pressing her skin lightly with his fangs in a tender love-bite.
She shuddered and moaned his name, arching into him. She reached up to wrap an arm around him as she pressed her other hand against the back of his head, tightly, as he increased his ministrations. He drew back, grinning as he clasped her arm tightly.
"There we go," he said almost chirpily as he proceeded to rub the offensive cream into her skin. She gaped at him.
"You tease! Did you just…"
"Got the job done quickly, didn't I? See?" he asked with a grin while finishing lathering her other arm. "Over before you knew it."
"I see you've carried that philosophy beyond the bedroom."
"Oh, ouch," he winced, rubbing a hand across his fringe. "Walked right into that one."
She patted his cheek tenderly, a wicked grin curled on her lips. "You'll survive, I'm sure," she snickered, dancing out of his reach to finish gathering her things
"I'm not sure I've earned such abuse. Just wait," he said knowingly, "you'll thank me later for this."
"You're not sure, huh? Teasing me like that…have I ever told you what an evil man you are?" she tossed his bundled armor to him and he caught it smoothly.
"A couple of times," he drawled, pulling her in for a quick nuzzle before releasing her. "I like to think it's part of my charm."
"Speaking of charm, I have to admit I was very impressed with how you sweet-talked your way out of the med lab," Alena mused. "I thought for sure she was going to strap you to a gurney and sedate you…after she finished eviscerating me, of course, for aiding and abetting in the delinquency of a patient."
He chuckled as he fished through her closet. "I wouldn't have let her," he smiled as he tossed her the largest canteen she owned.
She caught it and raised a brow in question. "We aren't staying that long, are we?"
"Trust me, you're going to thank me for that, too."
Alena leaned against a column beneath the shade, guzzling water from her canteen as Garrus gave her a knowing look.
"Damn, it's hot here," she gasped, fanning herself.
Garrus crossed his arms, striking a rather cocky pose that only the most self-assured male could pull off. Alena glared at him with all the intensity of a thousand daggers. He waved it off with a very smug grin.
"Okay, I admit it, you were right," she grudgingly conceded, eyes following a group of beet-red humans wince-stepping their way down the street. She glanced back at him pointedly from over the rim of her shades. "But that's as far as I'll go."
"Good enough for me," he purred, swaggering up to her. She envied him. He was in his native element, relaxed in breezy casual-wear. He held his armor slung over a shoulder and, as always, a sidearm was secured at his waist.
She had been very impressed when they'd docked in the shining port city nestled in lush greenery. Everything shimmered in the heat, and when she'd commented on it he'd enthusiastically talked at length about how their architecture was designed with heat and radiation management in mind. Special paints, lacquers, and materials went into the construction of buildings to mimic the turians' own natural biology. The results were clean and imposing, although not unattractive.
She could see what he meant about incorporating their own biology; when she and Garrus had stepped into the glaring sunlight for the first time, the sun had glinted brightly off him as the metallic quality of his flesh reflected and scattered the beams. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as he looked around, unaffected by the heat or bright sunlight, even his facial plate providing all the shading his eyes needed. In his element, indeed; not even ten minutes walking outside and she was ready for him to carry her to the nearest fountain.
"I'm thinking cold thoughts right now," she told him weakly. "Namely…ice cream…or ice skating…or icebergs. And maybe taking part in a polar bear plunge," she added after some thought.
He maneuvered behind her and lifted her hair, which was tied loosely in a ponytail, off her neck and fanned her gently with her tourist papers. "You didn't have to come with me…we're not too far from the ship. You can always go back."
"Trying to ditch me, huh?" she grinned. "Don't want me running across any old girlfriends of yours?"
He snorted. "Let's hope not...but no, I just don't want to have to carry you across Palaven because you passed out from heat exhaustion."
"I'll be fine…I just need to get something to drink," she said, tilting her empty canteen upside down.
He raised a brow. "I knew you were a heavy drinker. Well…we're almost to the shop…there's a very nice, quiet little café on the promenade that serves mean subs...even offers levo variants. Which is strange now that I think about it since it's not quite on the tourist strip."
"And they would have ice cold beverages, too," she finished with an eager grin. "What are we waiting around here for? Let's go."
He let her drag him along for a ways before taking the lead, turning from walkway to walkway. It was a twist of mazes and Alena was glad he at least knew where he was going. When they finally made it to the promenade, Shepard really was ready for him to carry her. She leaned heavily against his side, panting.
"Can't handle the heat?" he teased.
She beat at his arm weakly, panting lightly. "On Therum at least my suit kept me cool. On Earth, it never got this hot. I don't know how you handle it."
"It's not so bad…"
"Says the turian who wore three layers of thermals on Noveria," she snorted.
He took on a dignified air. "I just didn't want to get frostbite."
"Riiight," she drawled. "Now are we going in or did you want to watch me melt into a puddle?"
"I'm considering it…" He grinned when she shot him a glare.
They stepped into the shop and Shepard relished the cool air against her skin. "Ah," she sighed, "the marvels of modern technology." The shop was clean and quiet, the slight scent of leathers and various materials lingering in the air. Several displays were strewn about bearing armors of various designs and none had price tags. She had a feeling this trip was going to dig deep into their reserves.
"Your natural habitat…the air conditioned unit," Garrus quipped quietly, cutting off as a turian in a rather fine ensemble rounded the corner from the back room.
"Welcome," he cried enthusiastically, "Welcome to my store, you won't find better arm--…ah…" he froze mid-step, his eyes instantly drawing to the much-damaged hardsuit slung over Garrus' shoulder. He recognized the patch on the arm.
"I remember you! What on Palaven did you do to my baby?" he howled, mandibles slackened as he rushed over and tore the armor from Garrus' grasp. "Look at this!" he cried, waving it in their faces.
Garrus cast Shepard a disbelieving glance and shrugged. "That would be the reason I'm here," he drawled, eyeing the flustered shopkeeper warily as he fussed over the damage.
"I can't believe you'd let my armor even get into this condition! Cracks! Scuffs! Holes in the collar!" the shopkeeper fumed. His head snapped up and he sent Garrus a scathing glare. "What did you do, stick it in a ship's drive core?" His eyes narrowed and then widened. "Great spirits, man, what happened to your face?"
Garrus shifted rather uncomfortably as the other turian studied him. Normally his scars didn't bother him, and most people were polite enough to keep their comments, and eyes, to themselves.
Alena fumed and snapped, her temper getting the better of her. 'How dare he?' "He took a missile to the face while making your life easier," she spat, "show some decency. And what does it matter what he does with the armor he bought?"
The turian looked surprised, as though he hadn't noticed the human who stood glaring beside Garrus.
"My armor, human, is renowned for its quality and workmanship. I don't sell it to just anybody…and I especially don't just accept commissions from every turian who walks by. I have expectations of my clientele."
"Perks of being my father's son," Garrus stated stiffly, ready to cuff the shopkeeper for his behavior towards Alena. "And you'd do well to watch how you speak to her."
The shopkeeper seemed taken aback by the implied threat lacing Garrus' stance, from the head tilt to the undertones in his voice's inflection to the flared scales along Garrus' back as he took a subtly protective stance. Dawning realization struck him and his eyes darted between the two. "She's not just a—oh. Oh. My apologies…I hadn't realized—well." He coughed nervously, backing down as his scales pressed tightly against his hide in unconscious submission.
"I hope you'll forgive me," he said quickly, bowing his head towards Alena. "I can become rather passionate when my works are involved…I do hope I haven't offended you too greatly."
"Ah, no, that's alright," she mumbled although he didn't sound very sincere.
Pleased at the other turian's silent submission, Garrus relaxed. "And that's why I came here for my armor. I needed the best for my purposes and I knew someone of your skill could provide it."
The shopkeeper seemed rather flattered, the tension of the moment forgotten. "Well…I presume my armor did its job remarkably well if you survived that," he nodded towards Garrus' scars. "It surely is a testament to my impeccable skill in craftsmanship…so I suppose I can forgive its treatment considering the circumstances."
Alena restrained herself from rolling her eyes, if only barely.
"How long will it take you to repair it?" Garrus asked.
"You're in luck," the other turian smiled. "My last commissioned work is being picked up this afternoon which will free me to focus on this." He frowned, walking around to the counter as he untied the bundled armor. The shopkeeper clucked in disapproval as his hands brushing over each piece as he studied them with a critical eye.
"The damage is…significant," he marveled, inwardly cringing at what it implied. "I'm pleased you survived, although considering the extent of this…" he shook his head, glad he hadn't been more brusque with the turian's mate…it certainly wouldn't do to anger a turian who could survive the battles this set of armor told him he'd experienced.
"It will require crafting several new pieces. Each plate," he explained, holding up the chest piece, "is composed of a solid sheet of material, and then subsequent layers are grafted and bolted. Thankfully most of the damage is focused, so not many plates will need to be crafted…" he trailed off, muttering quietly to himself as he twisted the armor around to peer beneath. "Material will have to be replaced…fully re-lined."
He clucked again and pulled out a datapad and stylus, scribbling notes and taking measurements. "Some of the materials are off-site…all told the repairs will take a month. If I could get you to—"
"Wait," Alena cut in, waving her hand. "A month? We don't have that kind of time. Can't you get it done faster?"
The turian bit his tongue, catching the look sent him by Garrus. He took a deep breath. "I do not rush my work. But," he said, raising his hand up when she went to speak again, "I can rush order the materials and they will arrive by tomorrow. Repairing the armor itself will take longer, and that I simply refuse to speed through. I can push the repair time needed down to a Palaven week in that case, but airlifting all the materials will cost you."
"That's fine…we can do a week," she said.
"Good!" the turian chirped, sliding a clippad towards her. "If you'll wait a moment, I'll get the documents prepared." He slipped around the corner to the backroom, leaving the two of them alone.
"That was…odd," Alena said quietly.
Garrus snorted in amusement and pulled her with him towards the door. "He's an ass…very much a xenophobe but he knows turian armor inside and out. I have to give him that much."
"Well…as long as we can get back in business as soon as possible," she muttered. "Now…where was that café you were telling me about? I'm dying for something to drink."
He nodded his head towards the street outside. "Right…the café's down five storefronts…where the umbrellas are," he added with a grin. "I'll stay here to sign for the order and wait until you get back…unless you need me to carry you again."
"No, no…that's alright. I think I can manage," she muttered, blushing as she remembered the last time he 'offered' to carry her. She hadn't protested until he'd suddenly swept her up and jokingly dangled her over a fountain, much to the amusement, and in some cases disgust, of the other turians and tourists. She paid him back when she "accidently" shoved him into the very same fountain moments after he'd put her down.
She was looking forward to this, however. "I can't wait to try out what I've learned…I've been practicing those lessons you taught me," she smiled.
He shook his head in amusement as she hurried out the store and down the street, weaving between throngs of turians and the odd alien.
The shopkeeper returned and Garrus filled out the documents. As he signed the last, the door slid open and two feet clicked across the floor – turian. Garrus looked over his shoulder, and then did a double-take as he recognized just who it was.
"Garrus?" A turian, female with dark scales, stood in shock as she looked him over with an appreciative sweep of her vivid green eyes.
"Well…I never thought I'd see you again, Garrus," she purred, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest.
A/N: Dun, dun, duuun! :D And so ends the second chapter of my first attempt at a longer fic. Please read and review, if you'd like. As always, I do appreciate the feedback and try my best to take constructive suggestions into account (not to mention your encouragement is a great motivator for me…nothing like knowing others are enjoying my stories to help me push my way past a writer's block. ^^