THE NOTORIOUS STRANGER
A turian approaches the bar, wilted and vexed. He didn't want to come out to Flux tonight. Not even for his birthday. But after a long day of dealing with criminals and writing reports, all his co-workers at C-Sec wanted any and every reason to get drunk. Or laid.
"Well, don't you look like a magnet for fun?" an embodied voice spoke over the shrieking electronic dance music.
"That obvious?" he muttered back to the female human, leaning onto the bar.
"No. I'm just exceptionally skilled in the art of people watching." A teasing smile tugged at her lips. "Also, you let out a groan that said 'please, kill me now' when you walked up. If you have a death wish, order a ryncol. Shit will destroy your stomach."
The bartender brought her order.
"Full biotic kick, two frozen pyjaks, quad kicker, Shadowbrokertini, memory stealer, and three honey meads," the salarian recited without pause, pushing forward a tray with her drinks.
She reached over the counter, gripping the tray and pulling it towards her carefully. Before she had the chance to run off, he remarked dryly, "I don't think you've got enough there."
"Heh." A warm, curt laugh. "Calm down, officer."
Garrus never had a chance to change. He was immediately dragged into a skycab the moment he clocked out of his shift. His co-workers wouldn't allow their reason to celebrate slip away so easily. He normally wouldn't go out in his uniform.
"They're not all for me. These are for my crew."
She gestured her thumb to the table of boisterous characters taking up – and destroying - an entire section of the club.
"That's your crew?" he questioned dubiously, spectating the two krogans engaged in a match of skull-crushing head-butts. The human covered in head-aching tattoos hollered obnoxiously, egging them on. An asari and a stern with her hair pulled back human shook her head at the scene, displeased with their behavior. Others in the group – humans, quarian, drell – didn't participate. They're caught up in their own conversation, desensitized to the outright brawl just a few feet away.
"Yeah, interesting rowdy bunch, aren't they?" she beamed unapologetically as she gazed at them. Her ruby eyes glowed. Without notice, the corners of woman's lips curled downwards. "Kasumi, give the nice officer his wallet back."
A small petite human appeared beside her, face shrouded in the shadows from her hood.
"Alright, alright. Can't a girl have a little fun?" Kasumi pouted, slapping the wallet down into the woman's open palm like a scolded child. "Oh! My drink. I'll take those!"
The tiny human disappeared again under a cloaking device, and the tray of drinks floated away by its invisible carrier.
"Sorry, about that," she said, handing Garrus back his wallet. "Don't have too much fun, officer."
As she spun around to disappear into the crowd, he blurted out, "Wait!"
She didn't stop. Garrus followed the raven-haired stranger into the crowd as she weaved fluidly through the sea of aliens. His attempt to mimic her movements were unsuccessful and clumsy.
"Who are you?" he tried again.
"Who wants to know?" she yelled back, still pushing forward.
"Garrus Vakarian."
"What do you want Garrus Vakarian?" Not annoyed. Just questioning his intentions.
"Uh…"
Garrus didn't have an answer, really. She was just the first interesting thing to happen to him all night, and he wanted more.
"To ask you some questions?"
The woman didn't catch the inflection at the end that gave away his uncertainty. She skidded to a stop, causing Garrus to almost crash into her. She did an abrupt about-face and stared at him squarely in his ocean blue eyes. In the tight space within a cluster of patrons, their bodies pressed against each other. At 6'6", Garrus figured the human had to be more than a foot shorter than him. His chin almost touched his neck when he looked down at her. Though, her height – or lack of – didn't make her any less intimidating.
"Look, Officer Vakarian. I'm not interested in talking business or work to C-Sec while I'm on shore leave. My CO doesn't loosen the reigns often, so I'd really like to make the most of this night."
"So would I," he said as a matter-of-factly.
"Oh yeah? Why's that?" she asked cocking her eyebrow.
"It's come to my attention that I'm not having fun, and it'd be a shame if someone as fun as yourself would let my birthday be deprived of that."
Is Garrus Vakarian flirting?
"It's your birthday? And you came to celebrate your birthday at Flux by yourself? I think you set yourself up for that letdown, Vakarian."
"Ah, no. My 'friends' seemed to have forgotten that I exist as soon as they saw the bar. Didn't even treat me to one measly shot."
"Mmhmm. Crappy company if you ask me." An amused smirk came across her lips.
"But I think I may have found some even better company tonight."
Yup. He's flirting.
"Alright, you win." She raised her hands in surrender. "C'mon. This way."
When Garrus ceased talking, silence fell between them. It's not awkward nor stiff. It's comfortable. She had only asked, "So, tell me about yourself, Officer Vakarian."
And that was it. Garrus was an open book. This woman – so cocksure and effortless to converse with – made his heart feel a liberating pleasure when he usually had qualms about being vulnerable. Garrus Vakarian never even wanted to join C-Sec in the first place.
Well.
That's not entirely true. Garrus did want to fight injustice and help people. Just not the way C-Sec forced him to. Garrus has a reputation for being a hothead. Always bucking heads with the Executor, his boss. He never did well with rules and regulations. In his eyes, they hindered more than they helped. But Garrus' dad was C-Sec – one of the best – and he wanted Garrus to follow in his footsteps. He even prevented Garrus from entering Spectre training.
"No shit!" she exclaimed. "You were chosen to be a Spectre?!"
"Well," he drifted, slurring, "I was targeted as a possible Spectre candidate. Me and about a thousand other military recruits. I could have received special training, but my father didn't like it." His tone became dry and bitter. "He despises the Spectres. He hates the idea of someone having unlimited power with no accountability."
Garrus chugged the rest of his drink, his neck twitching from the burning liquid flowing down his throat.
"I suppose I can understand his concern."
She sat forward, chin propped up by buckled hands. Strands of jet-black hair flowed over her face before she pushed them back behind her ear. The cool wind outside out on the balcony untucked them anyway. Garrus was glad she led him outside to talk. Besides the individuals outside taking a smoke break, their time was quiet and intimate.
Alcohol may have swayed him a certain way too. Every time a waitress came around with the novelty test tubes filled with a range of technicolor cocktails, she bought Garrus one. The waitress stopped by their table more often when she noticed that the answer was always "yes" whenever she offered a refill.
Then, a wave of guilt crashed over Garrus. He'd been the only one talking the entire time. But she never stopped him. She nodded at the appropriate times, fed him follow-up questions, and presented him with a warm smile, specifically when he talked about his desire to make the Citadel a better place.
In the exact moment he went to apologize, a thundering bang roared from inside the club. They both whipped their heads in the direction of the screams.
"I will destroy you!"
"Fuck." She jumped up from her seat. "Can't go one night without Jack getting into a fight."
Garrus saw a wash of fury color her pale face as she observed the quickly escalating bar fight. However, when she diverted her attention back to him, her expression reverted.
"Sorry to cut this short, Vakarian. It's been…fun."
She walked away. Garrus couldn't let go her go just like that.
"I spill my deepest darkest secrets to you, and I can't even know who you are?"
She spun around on her heel and continued stepping backward. "Those were your deepest darkest secrets? You must have a boring life, officer."
"You have something better going on?" he retorted coyly.
She spread her arms out open to the side with a smug smile. "You have no idea."
"Show me then."
Her next step came to a halt. "You really want to do this, Vakarian?"
She dared him with a stormy look. He didn't falter in his reply.
"Yes."
One long breath and the smug smile returned. "Alright. You want to know who I am? Meet me outside the Citadel Embassy tomorrow first thing in the morning."
Garrus is waiting for a stranger.
His game was off. Well, it's always off. But why specifically this time? How could he let such a beauty get away without so much as a name? Even after she supplied him with companionship and drinks.
Garrus never particularly had a fetish for humans. They're small. And soft. Too many curves and not enough rough edges. She's an exception. Yes, she has curves – tiny waist and full hips – and yes, she's soft – she is human after all. But she's hardened with muscles. Strong, almighty, yet gentle and caring.
"You ready, Vakarian?"
The woman he couldn't stop thinking about last night appeared from behind.
"Uh, sure. Why'd you want to meet at the Embassy?"
"I have an office here." She waved her hand beckoning him to follow. He trailed behind as they walked up to the pristine building known as the Citadel Embassy, home to diplomats of many species.
"People with offices don't lead exciting lives. I'm starting to think you're bluffing."
"Don't worry, you'll get your excitement," she assured him.
They proceeded through an entryway that opened up to a hallway with many doors. The names of notable councilors and ambassadors glowed on electronic signs over each one. She stopped in front of a door, punching in letters on a digital console.
"What ship do you work on?"
"The Normandy," she replied impassively, pressing her thumb onto the fingerprint scanner.
The Normandy?! She's working on – No. It can't be.
And then it hit him. The identity of the woman. How could he not recognize one of the most infamous humans in the galaxy? He looked up at the sign above the door where the unmistakable v-shaped Spectre logo gleamed. The security Virtual Intelligence said her name before he could.
"Spectre status recognized. Welcome, Commander Shepard."
