As Garrus watched the door quietly shut in his face, he could do nothing but stand there. Staring at the door, he didn't know whether to be relieved that-despite the horrible situation he had just found himself in - it ended with a lot less drama than he was expecting…or to race after Shepard and get her to come back and talk to him. What was he supposed to do? Irritated with himself for standing there like a lost, beaten pyjack, he turned around and surveyed the lounge.
He took note of all the beer bottles strewn around the floor, Shepard's glass of wine still sitting on the edge of the coffee table. How did this happen? He and Shepard had been inseparable since they first signed up to the military when they were fifteen years old. He had immediately been drawn to her calm, kind demeanour and the wicked sense of humour that he had found lurking behind the sparkle in her eyes and the way she moved like a predator on the field. Grace and beauty. It had never concerned him that she was Human and after a few training sessions together, he had found someone who shared the same ideals as him. Honour, Virtue, Dignity and a strong sense of right and wrong.
If she were turian, she would be the perfect mate for him. Shaking his head and flaring his mandibles till they rattled against his face, he huffed. In his twenty-three years of being alive, and in all the time that he has known her, the thought of her – or anyone other than a female turian -being a perfect mate for him had never crossed his mind till now. His eyes widened as the realization hit him that he was strangely okay with that thought. No, he shook his head again. His father, Veridian Vakarian, one of the most infamous C-sec officers, was known for his love of the military, his dedication to his duty as a Turian citizen and the Hierarchy would never, ever allow Garrus to smear the family's name through the mud. His lessons and lectures on what was the right and proper thing to do for a turian was deeply ingrained Garrus.
He had always been accepting of the fact that he would work in a field his father approved of, marry a woman his father had chosen, as that women would elevate the Vakarian clan and provide more heirs to carry on the family name. Up until the exact moment Shepard left his apartment, he was perfectly fine with the way his life was planned out. Like any good turian should be.
As he started clearing the lounge, firmly burying all thoughts of mates, customs and what his father's reaction would be if he did mention Shepard as a possible mate, he made his way to the kitchen, deciding that he would try handling one problem at a time. First was to get the house in order. The scent of their sex was lingering around the apartment, making his heart clench uncomfortably whenever he breathed through his nose. He walked down the corridor leading to his bedroom and noticed Shepard's shirt and bra lying in an untidy heap in one corner where it had obviously been kicked. He caught faint scratch marks in the wall from the corner of his eye where his hand had obviously lost control. Spirits, he sighed. Bending over to pick up her clothing, for one moment he fought the urge to bring the shirt to his nose and inhale deeply. He always did love the way she smelled. Vanilla he remembered her calling it. He flashed back to how she tasted…his tongue trailing down her throat…
Shaking himself to get away from the memory, clothes in one hand he headed back to the kitchen. As he stood over the bin, he was suddenly conflicted. Why did throwing her clothing away, like trash make him feel so horrible? It wasn't as if she would need it again. It was in tatters from his talons. He stared at the shirt and bra for a moment longer before throwing the bra away, but deciding to keep the shirt. He didn't know why but he found himself walking to his bedroom. As he surveyed the damage to the bed and the stains from last night, he grew agitated. Placing Shepard's shirt in one drawer next to the bed, he turned back to the sullied sheets, picked them all up and wrapped them in a tight ball, intending to throw to them away once he had a chance.
The scent was overpowering and he stumbled for a moment as he was hit with hazy memories again… her moans, him kissing her… the way she felt around his cock. The emotion he had spotted on her face as she saw him naked for the first time. The way her skin gave way when he sunk his teeth into her neck. He dumped the bedding into a bag and left it by the door. As he walked into the bathroom, he checked the time on his omnitool. 07:20 am. Plenty of time to get showered and report to Chellicks office for a debrief on his next case. He suddenly felt nauseous at the thought of seeing Shepard again so soon. Rubbing a hand down his face, he resigned himself to the fact that whatever happened would happen the way it was meant too and that he had no control over it. He cranked the hot water on in the shower and stepped under the spray, using the soap generously to take away Shepard's scent. Curse his species for their innate sense of smell he thought as he passed over his body for a third time with the wash cloth. Garrus got dressed quickly for work and stepping out his front door he sighed. It was going to be a very long day.
Shepard was walking. She kept her eyes firmly on the ground. Thanking the makers of her jacket for including a hood as she pulled it lower over her head. Shepard thought to herself that if she concentrated on just placing one foot in front of the other she could avoid curling into a ball in the middle of the presidium and sobbing her heart out.
One step.
Two.
Three.
Deep breaths Shepard, she spoke to herself. Get yourself home and deal with your feelings then. Her biotics, which she had thankfully kept in check in her current state, started to flare and leap off her skin in blue flames. Breathe Shepard, she repeated to herself. She didn't really know how she made it to her apartment, but as she stepped through her front door, walking into the middle of the lounge…she let loose.
She snapped. Years of emotions, of holding back, of being unfulfilled until last night hit her in waves. She let out a loud sob and she sank to her knees on the floor, her biotics pushed out from her. Picture frames and ornaments toppled off their hooks and shelves. Shattering into brilliant pieces with resounding cracks around the room. The vibrations of her biotic waves making the windows shudder and groan in protest. She caught her breath and with one final gasp the wave broke. The silence of the room was deafening. She hiccuped, sniffing and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. The tears just kept coming. She sat there for what to her felt like hours. Numbness creeping into her knees. She stood slowly, her mind working as if on autopilot. Shower. Wash. Dress. Report for work.
That's what she needed to do. That's what she should do. She couldn't. Not today. Her body was aching from the way he took her last night, cuts and bruises a dull aching roar inside her. She lifted her hand to her neck. She stilled as the implications hit her. She knew enough of Turian customs to know that she was in trouble. Deep, deep rooted trouble. She wasn't his mate for god's sake and if his reaction was anything to go by this morning she never would be. Oh, God. He's getting married. A cold flash of nausea rippled down her body nearly bringing her to her knees again. That bastard, she thought. Why didn't he tell me sooner? We've been inseparable for years and only now, after they had had sex did he inform her of that fact. No, she shook her head, at least she should be grateful that he wasn't disgusted by the fact that he slept with her, another species. A human.
However that small ray of hope died quickly when she once again remembered what he said. She couldn't go to work today, yes, she admitted that it was cowardly. She was a grown woman and shouldn't let her personal life get in the way of work. She couldn't. Shepard flicked on her omnitool and scrolled through to find Chellicks number, knowing he would be in the office. She deactivated facecam and pressed call. As the phone rang, she realised she was still crying, her nose was blocked and her voice was hoarse from the scream she had let loose cleared her throat as best as she could.
''Chellick here, what can I do for you Shepard?'' came the response when the call went through.
''Hi Boss, remember that vacation that I skipped out on? I think I remember I still have two weeks to take off. I'd like to take that now if it wouldn't be too much problem? I've come down with a very bad cold and I decided I might as well take some time off and get some R&R.'' Shepard said quickly, before he could get a word in edgeways.
She prayed to God that he wouldn't pick up on her lifeless tone of voice.
''Well Shepard, this is highly unusual. The proper way to do it would be to submit the correct forms for holiday and wait for approval, but I think just this once, I can bypass all that for you. You and Vakarian make a hell of a team and did excellent work in stopping Saleon. Hmmm, yes, OK. You are effectively on vacation starting now. Is there anything I should know about or am I going to get a call from Vakarian asking for leave too?'' He chuckled on the other end of the line and Shepard couldn't help wincing every time he mentioned Garrus.
''Uh, no Boss. All things with Vakarian are just the way they should be.'' she said. ''So I'll see you in two weeks boss? Thanks again.''
Shepard cut the line after she heard him grunt in the affirmative. Her hand dropped limply to her side again and she took a deep breath. She needed to shower. Even with her human nose she could still smell his scent, as if though she had bathed in it and allowed him to soak into her pores. Screw the shower, she needed a bath. As she ran the water into the tub, zealously pouring in half her bottle of bubble bath, she reasoned that should be enough to get her smelling like she used to. She gently lowered herself into the steaming water, moaning softly as the water hit her thighs and she hissed as the cuts he had made stung like a hundred needles. She really ought to have put medigel on them she thought to herself. And yet, as stupid as it may be to some, she didn't want them to heal properly. In a twisted sort of reasoning, to her those scars would be all that she could hope to ever receive from Garrus. Her face scrunched up and she looked up at the patterned ceiling of her bathroom, willing the tears to cease.
Just let it end.
''Ah, Vakarian! I just spoke to your better half and she's on holiday now for the next two weeks. Do you need me to get someone over to cover for her or can you handle the paperwork yourself?'' Chellick asked as Garrus stepped through the office doors.
Garrus was rooted to the spot as his brain tried to process this information. Shepard had never taken a day off in her entire life, never mind a holiday. She would usually laugh at him if he ever mentioned it. She had told him that she hated sitting still, having no purpose or nothing to do with her hands. Spirits, how badly did he hurt … not just physically of course, but this was the strangest behaviour from Shepard he had ever seen. Guilt at how he handled the situation that morning slammed into him again. As Garrus finally clawed himself out of his stupor he saw Chellick was looking at him inquisitively, head cocked to the side and waiting for a response.
''Uh, yeah, I can handle it. No problem. Did she, uh, Shepard say anything about why she needs the time off?''
Immediately he regretted the question and cursed himself. Stupid Turian. Chellick looked at him and his browplates furrowed.
''Shepard just said that she needed some rest and that at the moment she had a cold. I thought you two were attached at the hip? Did something change?'' Chellick asked quietly, although his sub vocals were trilling with curiosity.
''No boss. Nothing's changed.'' Garrus said, not meeting his eyes.
He nodded at Chellick as he left his office and proceeded to walk down the hallway to his and Shepard's own office. He walked in, not daring to look over to her desk, even though he knew she wouldn't be in today. Or tomorrow. Or for the next two weeks. He sat down at his desk, picking up a datapad. Ten minutes later when his omnitool alerted him to an incoming call he realised that he had done nothing but read over the same information and not one word had sunk in. Cursing he checked the caller ID, his stomach fluttered hoping it would be Shepard, but he groaned instead when he saw his father's name. Bracing himself for another lecture he answered the call.
''Hi Dad, how are you?'' He asked.
Veridian Vakarian stared at his boy through the facecam, noticing the way his mandibles fluttered, picking up the nervous vocalisations in his voice.
''Fine, Garrus, I just wanted to keep you updated on your engagement to the Primarch's niece'' Garrus withheld a groan.
Like he was able to forget that very important detail, what with his father reminding him every time they spoke of what an honour it would be to successfully negotiate a marriage contract into the Primarch's family.
''In two weeks you will be meeting her there on the Citadel for the first time and I need to know that you will conduct yourself with the proper turian behaviour and behave accordingly. None of those human customs and ways of speaking that you're so fond of are allowed.'' Veridian said, glaring at his son.
''Where is your partner?'' He spat. ''Surely she should be in the office by now?''
Garrus tried not show his father how riled up he was getting and simply bit out
''She should be here shortly. Dad, I have to get back to work. Ping me with the details of the meeting. I'll speak to you later.''
He sighed. His father looked at him for a moment longer and cut the weeks? Spirits he even want to get married? He loved his job, the way his life currently was, he rolled his neck to the side and glanced over at Shepard's desk. Her datapads were neatly packed into a pile and her coffee cup that he bought for her seemed to mock him as he read the words on it. World's best partner. He rolled his eyes, after last night the word partner was taking on too many new definitions for him. He leaned over his desk, head in his hands. Why was he agonising over this. It was just sex, sex with his best friend. Good sex, no, great sex he admitted. He had had many sexual encounters over the years and never once had he had any problems with any of the woman afterwards. Was it a human thing to tie in emotions with sex? Maybe if he talked to her and let her know that he didn't regret it per say but that it couldn't happen again, they could sort it out and go back to the way things were. Was it wishful thinking?
Standing up he came to a decision that he would call her and arrange to meet her at Apollo's over lunch. Somewhere that if it did end in a shouting match she would make an effort to not knock his ass over with a biotic shockwave if things didn't go well. Sprits know that he had never seen anyone , other than himself, fight like she did and he wasn't afraid to admit that she could kick his ass into next week if she felt like it. He pressed a hotkey on his omnitool and the call was automatically put through to Shepard. The line cut out. He tried again. Same thing. For spirits sake, why wasn't she answering? He briefly contemplated going over to her apartment to check on her but a nagging feeling told him not to be an even bigger idiot. If Shepard wasn't answering his calls, the likelihood of her giving him a warm welcome was about as big as his dad suddenly painting his clan markings on her face.
No, what he had to do now, was bury all his personal crap and get on with his job. Doctor Michel, over in Zakera ward was having trouble with a krogan who kept harassing her for free medical supplies and had asked him to take a look into solving that problem. He sat back down at his desk. He glanced down again and pressed call.
It just kept ringing.