Chapter 6
Timeline: Garrus: Eye for an Eye
Meanwhile, on the Citadel
Kasumi: Do you think Harkin is sending you into a trap?
Garrus: I don't know. We'll be careful. I'm sorry to drag you into this, but it's important to me.
Kasumi: I'll watch him. I've had my own experience with loss. It won't be enough. You can't kill him 10 times.
Garrus: I get that, but I need to do it once.
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Shepard
She'd stopped Garrus from shooting Harkin, but she really didn't know why. She hadn't stopped Garrus from nearly breaking Harkin's neck. Harkin was trash. She knew on any given day, with her being in a perfectly good mood, with a good night's sleep, she would have shot Harkin herself on sight and put a check box in the "good deed" category. On an impulse she'd grabbed Garrus's arm to deflect his shot, and she couldn't even figure out why. It was right, and she knew it, her intuition insisted on it, but she couldn't articulate why.
The symbolic act of overriding his will and fucking up his aim was entirely foreign to her and she felt a little sick doing it. A lot sick.
A small internal voice told her 'You died, Shepard, maybe your intuition came back fucked.'
We'll see, won't we? Sick and inarticulate wasn't going to get her very far. To that she was going to have to add bluff and stubborn.
"What do you want from me, Shepard?" Garrus had asked. That phrase stuck in her head and rattled around there, she replayed it over and over on the way to meet Sidonis. Something about his tone. Something about her reaction to it. This wasn't the time for her brain to be cryptic and lead her on a chase.
She couldn't find it in herself to be calm around him. He used to make her calm, now there was something pushing at her to interfere, to change the outcome, to…
Fuck, what was it?
She was infuriated in general, each of her crew had something they needed her to do in order to convince them to get the job done. Saving the galaxy involved handing out unreasonable favors to unreasonable people like it was unreasonable Halloween.
She'd been here before with Garrus, talked him out of killing Dr. Saleon in cold blood, though they still had to kill him. Of course they did. Garrus clearly hadn't learned a fucking thing about letting things go or letting due process put people away. That was a favor, that was before…
Before what, Shepard, spit it out.
This wasn't the same Garrus, the one that had told her to stay hydrated. Hydrated. That was the best he could do a while back. "Remember to stay hydrated." Before they had developed a patter, a rhythm, a reliance. This wasn't the same Garrus that practically begged her to take him along, thanked her repeatedly. This also wasn't the Garrus whose voice had broken out of Turian forced march cadence and softened, who had made her laugh.
She'd kill any number of people for him, but that wasn't the point. Harkin and Sidonis deserved to die and that wasn't the point. This was eating at him, corroding him. She wasn't sure she could work with this Garrus. Maybe she should start to rely on other team members. Why the hell did he want to drag her into something he should have known better than to ask? She desperately needed him at what she considered to be his best.
This wasn't like Garrus, this was like Archangel, and she didn't like him much right now. Was he going to admit that he just liked killing people? That he just wanted to find ways to continue to hate and be angry until the galaxy burned, taking everyone in one go before he managed to shoot them all first? Sometimes it seemed like the Reapers coming would get people what they wanted. Everybody that ever pissed you off could die. That seemed to be a general theme. Yes, part of their job was to kill people, they were good at it, but killing was never the ideal solution. You had to kill when you couldn't fix something by other means. She got to problems after other means failed or were never attempted. She tried to find problems to fix, and then if she had to kill someone to do it, she would. Archangel had wanted to kill people and then went out and manufactured the reasons to do it. There had been no real purpose, no end game to Archangel's plan. He would have just died, nobody knowing who he was, nobody to mourn him, the assholes in Omega repopulating by the next freighter who came to dock. He still didn't see where that path led, him alone and bloody. She didn't want him to be alone and bloody.
She couldn't tolerate it. Not from him. She wouldn't be pushed into the same place of no compromise the rest of her crew had demanded. Not from him. She needed to know that someone…no, not just someone, that HE…would be capable of not getting what he wanted and still backing her up. If the mission wasn't important enough, what the fuck was she doing supervising children, DANGEROUS children, again, relying on her to make everything right or wrong according to their whims? Garrus had once understood her. He still had the potential to understand, she hoped. If he didn't…well, she would have to see that for what it was.
She wasn't going to do it his way. This had absolutely nothing to do with Harkin's life or Sidonis's life because she couldn't bring herself to care about them after knowing what they'd done. They were not civilians. They were not innocent. Death was probably cleaner for them than prison. She'd rather die than go to someplace like Purgatory. The Reapers were coming. To be in a cell, or in cryo, when they crushed your station or facility…on fire behind bars or dead and not knowing it…
She was getting sidetracked. The sanctity of life or their places on the scumbag scale was not what was important here. She was talking to Archangel as if it were, justifying her choices as if it were, but she knew better. This was her bluff and stubborn making its play.
What do you want from him, Shepard? She asked herself. That was the important part. The rattling part, the part that if she pushed it might make sense.
He'd made his own rules for so long she wondered if he could accept any other rules, or care about the outcome. Should she leave him on the ship from now on, was he not up to this fight? The idea crushed some part of her, sinking vertigo.
No, not that.
She was suddenly, viciously, furious with him. Being around him was distracting, it was causing her to grab his arm, screw up his aim. It was causing him to turn and growl at her…
What do you want from him, Shepard?
She wanted him to turn and growl at her.
She was going to do something stupid.
She stood between Sidonis and Archangel's rifle, listening to the conversation, expecting at this point to be shot in the back of the head. Fuck it. She was angry and exhausted and if it ended here, the only person she'd really trusted picking the side of vengeance again, so fucking be it. Shoot him through me, Garrus. You believe in a future or you're stuck in the past. Show me I shouldn't leave you there, that you won't leave me here. Pick a fucking side. You make a leap or I take a fall. Do. It.
He didn't shoot through her. He didn't shoot around her. He let Sidonis go, and the relief came in a giddy flood. Garrus had had his teeth at his obsession's throat and she'd called him away. She was shaking with the adrenaline and half ashamed of enjoying this amount of power over him, but half something else.
What do you want from him, Shepard?
In that moment, Sidonis walking away, her knees almost gave out.
She had a very distinct vision of Garrus being angry, growling at her, grabbing her arm the way she'd grabbed his, then pulling her to him and kissing her.
That's what you want from him, Shepard.
Well.
Fuck.
That was not what I expected.
On the other hand, a lot of things now make sense.
Do Turians even kiss?
On the other, other hand, I'm an idiot.
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After the mission, he'd said he didn't want to talk. She still insisted on taking him through some of it, pleased to see he'd acknowledged another way of existing than black and white. He could at least see that there was something else, even if he didn't know what to do with that yet. He was angry and disappointed, but also relieved that his instinct to see the good in someone had kicked in. Hard to tell where he'd go from here. She was angry, and relieved, but not disappointed. She knew where she'd go from here. Crisis averted. New crisis discovered. She let it all slide, let it all pass, observe her reactions, his reactions, picking through every scrap of evidence, formulating and testing the theory that her intuition had spit out under stress.
Once she'd started thinking of his hands on her, she couldn't stop thinking about him, so it wasn't a passing whim.
It was a need that had broken out of whatever recess in her brain she'd pushed it during the cluster fuck of emergency, panic and horror that had been their history. This need had built up to critical mass before she had a chance to head it off or think about it. She'd labeled it camaraderie. She'd dismissed possibility because of species and circumstance and the fact that she was his superior officer. She'd sublimated interest in him into encouraging him to find someone else, be happy. More than that, she'd never considered herself a candidate because…he deserved better.
She vehemently now didn't want to see him happy with someone else. That window in time had closed.
These thoughts, this impulse had the hallmarks of obsession, and she didn't have any interest in countering it. Why the hell not? Everyone else on board had their obsession. She could have one. She WOULD have one.
Now that she had her side of it figured out, time to figure out his side of it. The honest thing to do would be to ask him, but she discarded honesty as insufficient. In their present state of twitchiness and her reaction to his request to kill Sidonis, she could imagine saying "So, Vakarian, hot for me?" He might be startled, but she could imagine him regaining his calm and saying "What? No, Commander. Lukewarm at best." He could shut her down if she went at this wrong.
Unsatisfactory. If he wasn't interested in her, she wanted enough time and space to make him interested in her. Make him? Convince him? Was there a difference if she would not allow the options that would give him a chance to say no?
Abuse of power was the best solution.
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Time passed as her mind sifted through her impressions and came to conclusions. She continued to avoid him privately. She wanted to walk to the Battery and...and what, exactly? Back him up against a wall? The idea was so appealing she had to physically stop herself from walking that way, push the resultant images out of her head reluctantly and think.
Take it easy. As fun as it sounds, easy.
If she went in there, he'd ask her if she needed something, and she really didn't want to hear her unscripted, uncontrolled response to that question.
She'd done some research on Turian anatomy and sexual practices. She determined she wasn't attracted to Turians in general, but to him specifically. She was very capable of keeping this stage of research based on clinical curiosity and wasn't turned on so much as alarmed. Turian on Turian porn was…Whoah. Hey. There was a lot of…scratching and biting and…well, maybe it wasn't that violent ultimately. Scratching and biting of plates didn't do much. It just looked violent to human eyes. Just a fracas. Fracas. She suddenly loved that word. She started giggling, and then it turned into a huge laugh. Then it wound down, she put her head in her hands
She gathered her courage and looked up again. There wasn't…much…actual bleeding. It seemed more of an enthusiasm thing. Like drawing blood was the human equivalent of giving someone a hickey. A blue…bleeding…hickey. Maybe Garrus had no blood curiosity, as he'd had opportunity to see plenty of her blood and she'd never seen him lick it off his finger. Maybe it was more of a smell thing. Gross, Shepard. Stop. She decided she'd bleed for him. Sure, she was in. She'd had much worse injuries for causes that weren't this important to her.
The anatomy itself was actually very cool. A Turian was like an efficient set of cabinets, everything put away when not being used. A Turian cock was huge, but she imagined that's what happened in porn. She shouldn't judge by…well, evidence. She also couldn't ask Garrus to see up front. Tacky.
Human and Turian porn was on the verge of snuff films. The main category was huge male Turian and tiny human women. Huge male Turians like Garrus. Tiny human women like her. She got the general idea, at least. The good news was that the women didn't actually die. She watched all the way to the end to make sure. So there was potential compatibility.
There was also huge potential for this being incredibly painful if not fatal.
There was no orgasm among Turians, and no thrusting. The penis appeared articulated, if not actually jointed, coated with a clear gel. Some exchange of chemistry between male and female Turians. With a little research, turned out that the female Turian had half of a brain chemistry cocktail and the male had the other half. Mixed together, they both got a payoff. It just looked like…he…stirred…her. 'Swizzle stick' her brain said. Oh, brain, please stop. Please.
What if she didn't have any chemistry to exchange? Humans and Turians were definitely having sex, though, so there had to be something to it.
She put her head in her hands and massaged her temples again. She still couldn't stop thinking about him. She couldn't get the image of an embrace, his mouth at her ear, her hands on his shoulders, out of her head. She didn't even care what he was saying. Just say it. She wanted that.
She knew something about bonding among Turians, but as a human outsider she couldn't get much information that she felt was reliable. From what she could gather, Turians had a lot of casual, easy going sex with multiple partners. If Garrus needed to do that, okay. She just wanted to be one of his partners. At some point Turians gave up casual sex and bonded to another Turian. The Salarians had some research into it, but it was very clinical. Something about transformation. A lot about chemical compounds. Not so much about what that meant. There were no videos of bonded sex. There was a total blackout on the subject, other than that it existed. Bonding had nothing to do with her. As a human she just wouldn't be able to reciprocate and that wouldn't be fair. At this point, they were probably going to die anyway. Just a little time with him was worth it. If she wasn't exactly what he needed or wanted…did that matter so much if he had no other Turians on board anyway to choose from? She was suddenly very grateful she'd never recruited a female Turian. Lucky.
Okay, so it's unfair and I'm unworthy, and I've always behaved more like a bratty little sister with him than a lover.
Be realistic, Shepard. Bratty, yes. Little, no. Sister, no. You've mouthed off to him in ways that would make anybody else you know blush or bring you up on harassment charges. Everybody else would draw a line in the sand, where their humor ended. He played along with your gunshot being the consequence of a Turian honeymoon. He said you wore blue.
On that note, maybe he'd sleep with her to humor her. Possible avenue of approach. File for now. Not a strong starting position, but definitely useful as a plan B or F.
He'd also looked at her appreciatively and suggested sex slavery when she was four inches from being dead. Okay, that was probably just to make her feel five inches from dead.
But maybe…
I can't really give him anything. Not even an orgasm.
She checked her inner compass. Did that matter? It should. Did it?
Nope.
So that conscience she prided herself on, consideration for others, concern for their wellbeing, all that doesn't matter?
Right.
Why?
Because he wasn't just any average Turian. He was Garrus. He liked her. He loved her. Whether she deserved it or not.
She was momentarily overwhelmed with a mix of fear, vulnerability and determination. Okay, maybe it wouldn't work. Maybe she had nothing to offer. Maybe this is why it had never occurred to her before to want this, or that she'd veered off course every time it had started to occur to her. Because this hurt like being on fire. Needy fire. Needy fire about to crawl to the Battery and beg.
Too late. Her reasonable caution was overwhelmed by an unreasonable obsession. She could at least let him know what was true. Then she'd take the truth from there. If the truth was only hers, then she'd deal with that then. She wouldn't be a coward about it.
He'd been with her for a year on the original Normandy. She'd never seen him with anyone he appeared interested in, he never talked about anyone. That's why she'd assumed he was bonded, because otherwise he'd be out with a different Turian each day, right? She'd encouraged him to get someone, he'd called her stupid. He had spent two years alone, and Archangel had no love in him. She'd seen him angry and grieving about his squad, but not about a lover.
Hey, for the first time she was appreciating Archangel.
She either had a chance at this, or he was so far deep in love with someone else that he'd never told her about it. How likely was that? Maybe he had been bonded, and she'd died.
He'd have told her. She was sure of it.
Mostly sure.
Sure enough to take a chance.
Everything considered, she had maybe a 14% chance of getting that embrace. She had 100% certainty of being motivated to exploit those odds. If he said no and it hurt enough to want to die, well, she had that covered, didn't she?
She was not going to let his opinion stop her from at least telling him.
She was in for a fracas and a swizzle sticking.
If she was lucky.
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Garrus
Sidonis was free. Free. Free and grey.
Morim was avoiding him. He couldn't blame her for doing it, as he'd avoided her first.
He'd regained his equilibrium. He'd lost his temper with her and still hadn't hurt her, hadn't done her harm. She'd kept her temper with him, as she always did. She'd done what she thought would help him most.
She had dragged him out of what he'd been wanting, and she'd shown him what was really there. Just as she'd done for Kaidan after Ashley died. What you want is not always what you get when you let reality have a vote.
Having Sidonis out of his head kept poison from entering his bloodstream every moment. The reality was that he was very tired, and now could get some sleep without nightmares.
Morim had died and that's the way it was. As much as he'd felt it was the end of the world and he was fully responsible, neither of those things had been true. Sidonis was a coward, not an evil genius with a plan. Sidonis had never been worth his time. He should have honored his squad mates and thought of them, honored their lives. He'd put too much value on being responsible for her death. He'd put too much value on killing mercs. He'd put too much value on killing Sidonis. He'd put no value on living a life worth living.
He and Morim were here and now. He remembered that at her funeral he'd thought he'd give anything to hear her laugh. He'd meant that then. He still meant it now, whatever they were to each other.
He'd gotten his help from her, and for that he should be grateful for every moment. Not counting the cost, not working toward a perfect ending and despairing he wouldn't get there.
He could move forward now, and whatever it had cost her in effort or trust or worry, he'd repay. He could see enough future to see through to that.
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Shepard
She would order him out on a date.
Jack wanted to blow something up. He liked blowing things up.
She sat next to him on the shuttle, sitting just a fraction closer than she normally would, keeping her attention on him more than she usually would, intent. Not looking at him, but just being aware of him. She could swear he really did smell good. Had he always smelled good? She couldn't remember. He smelled good now. "Do not sniff the Turian, Shepard. Definitely do not lick the Turian." She told herself. "Don't smile, either." She didn't smile.
Jack was nervous and Shepard was seeing the edges of anxiety creep out the sides of her expressions. It was in her eyes, in her jaw. Of all the favors asked of her, this one Shepard would have done on her own, no qualms. She was enjoying the vicarious shot at Cerberus. She'd seen their experiments before and even if this was a highly-compartmentalized past cell of Cerberus behavior, she would still get a thrill out of making it vaporize.
It wasn't out of character to bring Garrus. She'd brought him along on every "favor" asked of her, simply because she trusted his discretion and he wouldn't gossip or betray confidences. She and Garrus had crew mates that maybe they didn't like much, but she knew that both she and Garrus shared the impulse to put aside personal feelings and work for, work as, a team.
She liked Jack a lot. Jack had massive potential under all that anger. She was a woman of heart and passion, and Shepard had hopes that her passion would boil off all that anger and distill into purpose. It was not a very high probability. There was maybe a 17% chance that Jack wouldn't continue on her rampage when this was over, if she lived. Shepard had expected Jack to desert, and had agonized a little bit about letting her out into the world, but something about Jack had kindled some hope in her. If she deserted, Shepard wouldn't pursue her. Security was under orders to let her go if she attempted escape, to not do her any harm, and to not allow themselves to be harmed.
She was surprised that Jack was there at all after she got Cerberus's files to check out. Jack had also asked for her help, and that was, under the circumstances, an honor.
Jack probably justified asking her as the easiest way to get something done, to get her own back, but there was the expression in her eyes and her jaw again. She wanted help. She wanted a witness. She wanted Shepard. Jack could have taken what she wanted, could have left, could have blown this place alone. She didn't. Shepard was fascinated by Jack. It was as if she were a botanist who had found a new kind of carnivorous, poisonous plant in the forest. It had a bud. Nothing to do but watch, any interference might keep it from blooming. She was willing to let her eat a few things and kill a few things to see what would happen.
Would blowing something up make Jack bloom? She was willing to give it a try. She wasn't a botanist, but she was a hell of a demolitions expert.
It was an intimate thing, Jack's face.
Shepard had a few things to do on this trip that had nothing to do with the actual trip, but setting a bomb was easy. Put Jack at ease. Watch Garrus's reactions to…what…stimuli? Yes. Stimuli.
She was a terrible person and she was okay with that.
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Garrus
He was feeling more than a little out of place, off balance. Jack was going to make something explode and he'd prefer to have someone guard the shuttle. He didn't trust Jack enough to not blow Morim up in the process. He and Morim had kept a weird, isolated distance and it dragged at him. It wasn't like Jack to be suicidal and go up in a ball of flame, but he didn't want to bet on reading her correctly. The setup was volatile as he understood it.
He was getting used to Morim being alive again, and maybe not staying that way. He could commit to this…whatever this was, this flaming out death trap mission they were on. Morim continued to take him out for missions. Maybe her interest had been just the red sand and proximity. Maybe she'd worked through it and the answer was 'no' in full consciousness. Maybe that was okay. What was left of his life was of value, if it could serve a purpose, if he could contribute to keeping her alive.
Morim was sitting too close and was too intent for his comfort. Maybe she needed him to give them some privacy. Too many variables. Couldn't hurt to suggest it.
"Would you like me to stay behind and guard the shuttle? Explosives usually require exit strategies." he offered.
"Deal with being my arm candy, Vakarian" Morim said evenly, a tone he recognized. This he knew. She didn't look at him.
After a pause he answered "It's nice to know I'm valued for my strengths." Morim still didn't look at him, but from what he could see of her, that relaxed her shoulders a little. That relaxed his shoulders a little.
Jack rolled her eyes, but her expression had also relaxed from the interruption.
Garrus admired Jack in the way he admired Krogan. She was predictable. She put on a good show, but he wasn't concerned that she'd do him harm. She talked a loud game. He considered it threat behavior, chest pounding, territory defending. He recognized it. Most of the rest of the crew hadn't spent as much time with her as he had. After recruiting Mordin, Morim had brought him with her on every mission. From what he could see, everyone left Jack alone in Engineering except for Morim. They were apprehensive about having to deal with her at all. She wouldn't hurt Morim on purpose. If Jack respected anybody, it was Morim. That became more and more apparent as time went by. Asking for help at all was not something he would have predicted. She should get help.
They moved into the facility, a wreck. The vegetation and rot had mostly claimed the place already, it was hardly worth blowing up, but his distaste for the place made him think it did have a symbolic purpose. Cleanse this place where a woman like Jack was tortured as a girl, where children were drugged and thrust into an arena.
When they were rushed by a pack of varren, Shepard sounded wistful. "I want a varren."
Garrus answered as if grouchy "You can't have a varren, Shepard."
She answered "Well, I can't have that one. That one's dead. I need a nice varren."
Jack was irritated, and she said "Would you please both get a room. Killing things here."
Shepard answered "I don't need a room, I have a ship. I have every room. We could have the gravity turned off and have sex on the ceiling." That tone he didn't recognize. That was new. She was looking directly at him as she delivered this line and he was staring back at her. Jack was busy yelling at her prey, so she didn't hear the "We."
He had no answer. No joke to be made. No voice to be found.
Morim waited a beat, waited two beats, her expression moving from warm to intent.
He still had no answer. His brain had frozen except for the trickle of heat he had heard in her voice, that he saw in her eyes.
Then she gave him the most radiant smile he'd ever seen. Spirits, she was beautiful. If she could smile at him like that, if he could hear her stupid varren jokes, this would work.
Her expression changed to intently murderous, she shifted her focus over his shoulder and cast a reave on the pyro that was about to set him on fire.
He focused back on the fight, the only conclusion that he could come to was that she was fucking with him. She wasn't angry, at least, it was just some bizarre Shepard thing he couldn't fathom thrown on the pile of those like it, to be sorted out later into sub groups. "Insane Actions" "Inexplicable Speech" "Suicidal Plans." He smiled and felt things could maybe get back to some semblance of normal. Get the job done.
The "uninhabited" compound was definitely inhabited. He was glad he hadn't been left with the shuttle.
Was there a point at which he was going to be surprised and not be surprised about being surprised?
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Meanwhile, in Pragia facility
Garrus: Jack. You didn't deserve what happened to you here.
Jack: I don't need your pity.
Garrus: It's not pity.
Jack: Yeah? Well…thanks.
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Shepard
She felt a little bit better. Garrus not being able to keep up was gratifying. He didn't chime in, which was good. Not knowing what to say was good. He also didn't tell her to keep it in her pants like he had years ago. That was also good. Sketchy evidence. Enough to go on?
She should have tackled him years ago. Fuck, she was unapologetically stupid. He'd told her so. She flashed over his answers to her stupidity leaking out through her mouth over time. She wasn't wrong. He had not discouraged her.
She should be patient and not let this revelation spur her to greater stupidity.
Right. Patience. That thing she didn't do sometimes.
She didn't stop her feet from heading directly toward the Battery.
Garrus said "Shepard, need me for something?"
Shepard thought very deliberately, ready for the question and not willing to be diverted to a thoroughly honest answer. "Have you got a minute?"
He said "Sure. Just killing time anyway. Optimizing weapons charges, planning attack vectors. You know. Relaxing."
She thought "That makes one of us."
He said "I wanted to thank you for your help with Sidonis. Whatever happens with the Collectors or the Reapers or whoever comes after us...I know you'll get the job done."
She said "I couldn't do this without you, Garrus."
He answered lightly "Sure you could. Not as stylishly, of course."
She relaxed and sat down. He'd just answered the first five questions of hers within a minute. He wasn't angry. He was still willing to joke. He was over Sidonis. He was okay with the mission. He was willing to believe they'd survive. This was going…so much better than she'd feared.
He continued "I'm still trying to figure out how to prepare for this mission. Humans don't deal with stress the way Turians do."
She raised a brow "How do Turian crews get ready for high-risk missions?" Was he actually volunteering information again, instead of treating her as though talking to her was an annoyance? That would be nice.
He said "With violence, usually. Turian ships have more operational discipline than your Alliance, but fewer personal restrictions. Our commanders run us tight, and they know we need to blow off steam. Turian ships have training rooms for exercise, combat sims, even full-contact sparring. Whatever lets people work off stress."
She thought "Mmm. Full contact sparring." but said "You mean Turian ships have crewmen fighting each other before a mission?"
He clarified "It's supervised, of course. Nobody is going to risk an injury that interferes with the mission. And it's a good way to settle grudges amicably."
Shepard thought "I am all about settling grudges amicably."
Garrus said "I remember right before one mission we were about to hit a Batarian pirate squad. Very risky. This recon scout and I had been at each other's throats. Nerves, mostly. She suggested we settle it in the ring."
Morim replied "I assume you took her down gently?"
He continued, watching her "Actually, she and I were the top-ranked hand-to-hand specialists on the ship. I had reach, but she had flexibility. It was brutal. After nine rounds, the judge called it a draw. There were a lot of unhappy bettors in the training room. We, ah, ended up holding a tiebreaker in her quarters. I had reach, but she had flexibility. More than one way to work off stress, I guess."
She thought "That's it. He did it. He actually did it. Now I can do it." She said "It sounds like you're carrying some tension. Maybe I could help you get rid of it."
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Garrus
He choked for a moment. "Are…we…still talking about sparring? It really does not sound like she's talking about sparring. I really better make sure she's not talking about sparring." He said "I, uh, didn't think you'd feel like sparring, Commander."
He thought "Smooth. Idiot." She said "What if we skipped right to the tie breaker? We could test your reach, and my flexibility."
Despite all his intentions of being cool, he fumbled. Again. He really should have thought this out further. This is what happens when you think the woman you love won't make a move ever. You don't plan. While thinking this he tripped over his first sentence, and then tried to put the right amount of warmth into the last few words, once he stopped stuttering. "Oh, I didn't…Hm. Never knew you had a weakness for men with scars. Well, why the hell not? There's nobody in the Galaxy I respect more than you. And if we can figure out a way to make it work, then yeah, definitely." No, I never knew you had a thing for a particular man with a scar. I hoped like hell…but I never knew.
And then she walked out. Of course she did.
He smiled. Well, one of us at least stopped talking before we fucked it up.