Is Quite Effectively

"An elf auction?" Shepard asked, looking at the stage. "Really?"

"First time I've heard of it," Garrus said distractedly, not looking at the commander but instead watching for famiiar faces in the crowds milling around them. "Not what I expected, but..." he trailed off, staring at something.

"I'll talk to you later Shepard," the turian said hurriedly. "Excuse me." With that, he started off towards the buffet table and presumable one of the costumed aliens loitering around it.

A turian with dusty orange clan markings looked up as the other man approached. "Garrus?" he asked surprised, "Is that you, you old sonofabitch?"

"It's been too long, Celsus," Garrus replied enthusiastically.

The men bumped foreheads together, two pairs of mandibles flaring as they smiled at each other.

"You look like shit," the other turian said, clapping Garrus on the back, "It's good to see you."

"You're just glad you don't have to compete with my good looks anymore," Garrus replied.

"Not a word of that's a lie."

Garrus laughed, "I like your headdress, Celsus; very ostentatious. It suits you."

The other turian turned his head to the side, modelling the row of three belled, felt reindeer antlers he was wearing. "Headdresses," he corrected as another turian joined them.

The newest addition had white markings and a costume that involved a garland wrapped around his neck like a boa. "Officer Vakarian," he said, politely, "I didn't think you'd make it this year."

"You don't have to call him that anymore," the first turian said, snorting at the title.

"Haron!" Garrus exclaimed, squeezing the sergeant's shoulder fondly, "Glad to see you off duty for once."

"Every time you're on the Citdel, I have a shift," Haron said, "Maybe you've just got terrible timing, Sir."

"You don't need to call me that either, Haron," Garrus said, "And you do know you have a red ball strapped to your face, don't you?"

The sergeant tapped it to show that it blinked, saying, "I'm dressed as a 'Blitzen,' I think. It's a human thing but we can't talk about it because it sounds too much like the Skyllian Blitz. Don't want to upset any of tonight's potential donors."

"What's a 'Blitzen?'" Garrus asked as he accepted an offered drink from the first turian.

"I don't know," Haron admitted, "but this clown over here took the rest of my costume. One of those headdresses was supposed to be mine," he said, pointing at a pair of antlers.

"He just couldn't pull them off like I can," the first turian said, handing the sergeant a drink too. "But enough about how handsome I am. Tell us, Garrus, what's life as a vigilante been like? And where's this quarian I've been hearing so much about?"

Garrus stuttered something Shepard couldn't quite catch as the three aliens were swallowed up by the crowd. Still, he was glad to see his buddy happy; the guy had had a tough time a while back and he deserved a break.

"Eavesdropping, Commander?" Miranda's silky voice cut through his thoughts as she walked over, holding two flutes of what might have been champagne. "How very like you."

Like a true gentleman, Shepard relieved her of one of her glasses. They toasted each other silently, all smiles and private thoughts as Miranda allowed the captain to draw in close.

"What say you and me go find us some mistletoe?" Shepard asked quietly, snaking a free hand around her waist.

Looking up through her thick lashes, Miranda leaned in and whispered, "You may be too late. I think the aliens already have."

Shepard raised an eyebrow, and following Miranda's gaze across the room, saw a light brown salarian pointing at a bundle of leaves and berries hanging from the ceiling. There was a red eyed krogan standing besides the alien, and it reached up, pulled the little sprig down and then threw the decorations into its mouth. Shepard saw the krogan say something to the salarian, but couldn't make out the words from where he was standing.

"Isn't that stuff poisonous?" the commander asked, turning back to Miranda.

She looked slightly surprised, but nonetheless gave him an almost condescending smile. "I wouldn't worry about it," she said. "It's a krogan; they make ryncol for god's sake. And they've got enough redundant organs that I doubt he'll even notice a little gastrointestinal failure."

"He looks fine," Shepard agreed, shrugging.

"That's the holiday spirit," Miranda said, untangling herself. "I'll go get you another drink. Try not to kill anyone while I'm gone."

Shepard watched her fine ass sashay away, and knew that she'd be a while. With all these well dressed people here, there were bound to be a few contacts or persons-of-interest floating around. In fact, at that very moment the crowd parted just enough for Shepard to recognize Udina's receding hairline. The ambassador was saying something to Bailey and Shepard decided to greet the captain later. Ducking his head, the commander made his way over to his real love interest – the open bar.