"Skywalker's becoming a real problem, Garrus. I think I'm going to have to do something about it."
"Really?" Garrus looked over to her, still lounging on the sofa. It was a lazy sort of morning, and Shepard's quarters had been accentuated with two new coffeemakers - one for her, and one for him, filled with the dextro equivalent. He was already on his second cup. Shepard, meanwhile, was on her third outfit, and most of the contents of her wardrobe were spread out on her bed. After living in her armor for so long, it was time for her - for both of them, really - to figure out what civilian clothes actually looked like, and if they actually had any.
"Yeah." Shepard frowned at her reflection in the mirror before peeling off her shirt. "He's becoming a terrible distraction to the rest of the crew. Not anything he's doing on purpose. But Kelly's tripping over her own two feet about him, Tali's all twitterpated, Miranda - well, Miranda hates him, but I think she hates him in a way that means she's about to jump his bones. And Kasumi, well... Let's just say he's new meat."
"I don't remember every new crewmember being treated that way. At least, I missed out on that warm Normandy welcome," Garrus said with a laugh.
"No, no, new meat. I mean new meat." She turned around to catch his confused stare. "You know? Unspoiled land? New, virgin territory?"
"Shepard! Don't tell me you actually asked him that!"
"What? No! No, of course not. Totally inappropriate thing for a commander to do." Garrus gave a satisfied nod, taking a sip of his coffee. "Besides, I didn't need to ask him, Kasumi already did." Half the sip of coffee managed to come out of Garrus' mandibles as he spluttered in shock.
"You've got to be kidding!"
"Nope. EDI still had the video from the security cameras. She asked him bold as day and he spluttered something about how he was busy saving the universe at the time. If he were anyone else's kid but Vader's, I would have marched right down and given him a big gold star for finally getting angry about something. As it is, I just made Kasumi apologize." She snatched up another shirt, wiggling into it and seeming content enough with it. "But you see what I mean! We have to do something about this before Grunt starts getting bi-curious and hounding the poor kid."
Garrus put a hand to his temple, shaking his head. "I did not need that mental image. Ever. ...And how exactly are you going to fix this problem? Or do I even want to know?"
"You probably don't want to know. Anyway, just worry about going and having fun in Nos Astra tonight..."
-
"Welcome to Illium, Skywalker. Remember -"
"No going into dark alleys, don't sign anything, and read all the warning labels," he repeated, nodding in agreement. "I'll be fine, Shepard. I'm just looking forward to a night off the Normandy." He gently patted his arm. "And I triple-checked, all of the comm frequencies are in the omnitool you were able to lend me. I won't get lost. ...Or when I do get lost I can find my way back," he joked with a smile. "I'm just going to people-watch, mainly, anyway."
"Great, because that's exactly what I was thinking you'd do." Shepard was wearing a grin as the small group from the Normandy ascended the stairs to the Eternity lounge. Tali was already talking excitedly with Jacob, planning to meet Liara later in the evening; Miranda was adamant that she was only going to come for one drink, though it seemed that with the celebratory attitude, they would all be in the bar for the rest of the evening.
The pulsing beat of the music was soothing, in its own way, and Luke seemed relieved to be off the Normandy. Even if Illium was so very new and different, it was at least something to quench the sensation of cabin fever. The asari matriarch bartender waved them into a private side-room. "Go in and get yourselves comfortable. Open tab, I'm paying for everything! Just a second, Skywalker. Got something for you..."
While the others settled in, Luke milled about the room, obviously anxious to get a seat next to one of the large windows overlooking the trading-room floor. It only took a few moments, but Shepard marched in, looking thoroughly pleased with herself. "Here, this is for you," she said, grinning. He blinked curiously at the box, gently opening it.
Inside was an ice-cream cake, properly decorated with an icing border. In deep navy icing, there was the inscription of Sorry Your Dad's Dead.
Luke stared, his face scrunching a little as if about to sneeze. "Um. I... don't know what to say."
"You can thank me later," Shepard gushed.
"No. No, I mean... I don't know what to say." His eyebrows knitted as he stared at Shepard.
For a moment, she bit her bottom lip. "All right, so maybe the text wasn't the classiest idea. But it gets better! It does -" She excitedly motioned him over to a seat that managed to be situated directly in front of a pole. And, of course, the pole happened to have an asari dancing on it.
"Heya, sugar," the asari purred, upside-down and displaying her ample assets.
"I didn't know if you were more a breasts or ass man, or how curvy you like them, so I figured that we'd start off with a happy medium. But there's two more coming, one on the zaftig side and the other a little more twiggy. For right now, this here's Skye, she'll be taking care of you tonight. And don't worry about payment," Shepard said cheerfully. "They're yours for the night."
Luke quietly stared at Shepard as if begging her to please be kidding.
"You... do like asari, don't you? I mean, everyone likes asari. Just give the pheromones a minute to kick in."
"...Shepard, I don't think -"
"Look, look." She held her hands up in appeal. "Just humor me. Just for an hour. Please? You just need some time to sit back and relax and just... be stupid for awhile. Not trying to be friends with everyone on the Normandy, not trying to figure this whole crazy universe out, not practicing sparring..." She gave a sheepish smile. "And you have to admit, it'll be a hell of a story to tell your friends back home. Just an hour. If you don't like it, you can get up and leave."
He gave a sigh that seemed to roll out of his body from the soles of his feet. "All right, all right. For an hour. As a personal favor," he grumbled before sitting down.
Shepard gave Garrus a wide grin, and the turian shook his head as they went out for the closest thing they could manage to a nice dinner out. Then again, kabobs at Fishdog Food Factory while not wearing armor and only one sidearm was as classy as the two seemed to get. As they walked down out of Eternity, Garrus grinned at her. "You know, after seeing you talk down Wrex on Virmire, I thought I couldn't be any more amazed at your skill. But you just talked a man into eating cake and watching strippers. I am truly, truly impressed."
"I know," Shepard gloated. "I have a gift."
Meanwhile, back in Eternity, Luke picked up his fork and delicately poked at the cake before scraping off all the writing to one side and taking a nibble of the cake. A nibble turned into a bite, and by about the third bite, he seemed to finally realize the drink that had already been prepared and set out for him. Halfway through his first tequila sunrise, the asari was looking more and more appealing.
"Oooh, is that ice cream cake?" The asari gushed, straddling the poke and twirling around. "Can I have a bite, honey?"
"Uh..." He blinked a moment in thought. "Sure, I guess. Why not? I don't have another fork..."
"That's fine, sweetie." The asari gave her a wide grin before picking up a piece that he had cut away with the fork and licking at it in a downright obscene manner. "Isn't it just so creamy and delicious..."
Over the next few minutes - and few drinks - the experienced and worldly Jedi was replaced by the wide-eyed and naiive farmboy from Tatooine. And as the two other asari joined the first, it only got worse.
"Holy... is that... is that even legal?"
