He's into me for everything I'm not
According to you...
Orianthi - "According to You"
Chapter 6- Over the Horizon
"Teandra, are you going to open this door, or do I have to override the lock again?" Only for the third time I've know you, after all. Since breaking and entering is something every cop aspires to.
"Officer Vakarian, to do so would not only prove difficult considering the multiple levels of Cerberus encryption, but would also violate security protocols," EDI chimed in.
A machine should not be able to sound smug, I thought petulantly. We've got to keep her away from Joker for a while. Preferably before he starts teaching her dirty jokes.
Why no, I wouldn't have put it past our intrepid pilot to teach the bane of his existence how to embarrass the rest of us as retaliation for having to put up with... her. Why do you ask?
"Shut up, EDI. Organic stuff going on here." I brought up my omni-tool, tapping at it steadily as I spoke. Yeah, it was a good program, but that didn't keep me from getting through it in under a minute. Tali would have found it as amusing as that 'pong' game Shepard had shown us a long while back.
"See, NnB? You really should have more... by the spirits!"
A wall of sound launched itself at me as the door moved on it's track. My teeth fairly rattled as a steady golah rhythm (guitar, Teandra called it a guitar) assualted my person, and it took me a moment to register a female voice underneath all the noise.
A female voice that was singing just a little off key.
When you see my face
Hope it gives you hell
Hope it gives you hell...
I moved forward, mouth slightly agape as I watched the scene in front of me. Teandra was singing along with the song at the top of her lungs, head moving up and down with the beat and hair flying about crazily with the motion. She was wearing her unofficial off-duty uniform Ash had always called 'jeans-and-a-tee,' as if the phrase were all one word. The shirt, however, was a new one. The old one, an Alliance blue garment that had seen better days, had gone down with the SR1, and had been replaced (rather recently, from the look of it) with a slightly smaller one in cobalt.
It reminded me a bit of her new armor. And it kind of looks like my clan colors, come to think of it, I thought.
Instantly, I was bombarded with images of the cobalt lace garment used in one of the first stages of rites negotiations. Mom's handiwork would look wonderful on her, especially in contrast to her hair color... it only took me a moment to realize where my thoughts had tread, allowing me to school those rebellious thoughts fiercely. But the image refused to leave my head no matter what I wanted.
Stow it, Vakarian. We've been over this: She's just a friend, a fellow soldier. Get that through your thick skull, and your life will be so much easier.
I moved forward through the doorway, leaning against the empty fish-tank with my arms crossed, doing my best to stay quiet so I wouldn't interrupt this rather entertaining display before it had run it's course.
The redhead was now jumping up and down, barefoot, on her leather couch in time with the rhythm, as she continued to belt out the oh-so-appropriate lyrics.
Now where's your picket fence love?
And where's that shiny car?
And did it ever get you far?
You've never seemed so tense love
I've never seen you fall so hard,
Do you know where you are?
Then, as she reached the part right before what I'd come to recognize as the refrain, she leaped from the couch to the glass-topped table nearby, her voice growing louder as she continued to sing along.
And truth be told I miss you
Oh, I somehow doubt that, I snorted to myself. Then I saw her lips curve into an almost vicious smirk as she screamed out the next line with a laugh.
And truth be told I'm lying
I almost gave myself away when I heard that, but I held my laughter in, if only just. That's my girl.
I'm not so sure what I had expected to find when I went up to her room, but it certainly wasn't this. Even now, more than two years later, memories from the aftermath of Virmire still came up from time to time, and the nearly-palpable grief I'd encountered upon entering her cabin that day was still clear to my senses when those memories surfaced.
Of course, she'd loved Ashley like a sister, and that loss had been catastrophic. Losing Alenko, on the other hand, appeared to be the exact opposite, if what I was seeing right then was to be believed.
Leave it to Teandra to celebrate a breakup rather than mourn it, and to do it with music. I should show her Eternal Slumber. She'd like the lead singer, for sure...
Human music styles weren't so different on some level than turian, some genres having more similarities than others. Punk lyrics blended with the heavier beat of most turian bands had given that particular band their unique 'sound,' and their big break. The female lead, who also wrote most of their songs, always made her views on romance quite clear. Their most popular song to date was, "Break Up? (I'll Break You...)" and seemed to match my friend's current mood completely. I snorted, continuing to be unnoticed as the song came to an end. She ended her little performance by pumping a fist in the air, then leaping from her makeshift stage to her bed, landing face-down and laughing uncontrollably as she rolled across the surface until she was flat on her back, staring at the ceiling with a manic grin on her lips.
I started clapping slowly, finally laughing out loud myself as I moved to the head of the stairway. Shepard yelped like a wounded varren, actually yelped, and jumped to her bare feet guiltily. The blush that colored her face had to have been the fiercest she'd ever had in my presence. I laughed harder, which looked to piss her off further.
"Vakarian, are you ever going to learn to fucking knock?" she demanded, out of breath as she glared at me.
I tilted my head slightly to the right, looking at her with mock-indignation. "C'mon. You know I had to test myself against the updated encryptions eventually. Today was as good a day as any."
"And what if I'd been changing clothes, huh? Or cleaning my rifle?" The prospect of shooting me actually seemed to amuse her at that point in time, so badly was she embarrassed by the situation. Little did she know she'd managed to embarrass me in return, as my mind had latched onto the first half of her statement. Now, instead of just thinking about a cobalt blue shawl at a clan negotiation, my mind decided to bring up an image where she was wearing that and nothing else.
I wasn't even sure how I was able to envision it, as while I'd seen her in various states of undress, completely nude wasn't one of them. That, of course, didn't stop my mind from filling in the gaps in my knowledge base, since she'd been down to her undergarments for at least one of those occasions. Again, I forced the image down into the deepest recesses of my brain, knowing she'd pick up on it. Still, it was good to know I'd finally found something to completely fluster her the way she seemed to be constantly screwing with me.
And the way that last thought was phrased did not help the situation in the slightest.
My mandibles flared again as I grinned even wider, praying to all the spirits it looked geniune enough to keep her from pulling her little mind-reading trick.
"I survived a rocket blast. To the face. Do you really think one little old sniper round is going to take me out?"
She chuckled at my words, the frown falling from her face, but she was still blushing profusely as she shook her head, commenting, "Same old Garrus. Such a smart ass."
She gestured towards the couch, and I plopped down, watching as she threw herself backwards onto her bed. The motion caused her shirt to ride up incrementally, and I did my best not to stare like an idiot at that shade of blue against her pale skin.
Honestly, I'm not sure I succeeded.
"And same old Teandra. I figured you'd be up here all heartbroken." Still staring at the ceiling, she snorted with disdain.
"Yeah right, you know me better than that. Alenko was a piece of ass. I'd even admit, under threat of torture, that he was a pretty good one, at that. But you and I both know I don't believe in love." She reached down to pull her shirt back down self-consciously, much to my relief. It made it easier to concentrate on the conversation, but not much.
"And you and I both know he was more than a one-night stand," I said back, with full sincerity. "Go feed that ration of crap to Kelly, because you should know by now that I don't buy it."
She flipped onto her stomach, spinning around to face me as she propped herself up on her elbows, "Okay, fine. Maybe I had figured he had potential. Maybe I had actually considered all the possibilities. But that doesn't change the fact that it's better this way." Reflexively, she tucked her hair behind both ears, and I forced myself to pull my gaze back to her face, instead of letting it wander down her body and take notice of the way her curves were accentuated by the pants she was wearing. She would have noticed, after all, and she would never have let me live it down.
Goddamn, but you are a mess , Vakarian.
"He didn't know shit about me," she continued, her expression sour. "The fact that he thought I'd just hide for two years, or voluntarily work for the people who ruined my life proves that. I'm more pissed off in his lack of faith in us than anything else." She paused, and the next sentence she uttered seemed to be completely non-sequitter. "What do you think he'd have done if he knew about Finch?"
He'd have shit a brick, and immediately applied for a transfer. The thought made me snort, and the look of derision she shot my way had me scrambling to clarify the action. "I don't recall responding so greatly to that, myself," I replied with a grimace, shaking my head at the memory. "And I'm not too crazy about the whole Cerberus thing, either, little Spectre." She looked at me, face lighting up at the old nickname as if she found it comforting.
"And yet, you're here," she pointed out with a wave of her hand.
"Because you're here," I responded. "I might not trust them, but you are a whole different story."
She smirked, "And that's my point." She laughed at her own statement, a clear and untainted sound it seemed I hadn't heard in years. Then, it occurred to me it probably had been years since I'd heard that completely unchecked version of her laughter. I pushed the thought away before it threatened to take this conversation in an unpleasant direction.
"Alright, consider me sufficiently cheered up. But you," she pointed at me accusingly, "still owe me."
I crossed my arms, sitting back fully, flaring my mandibles in amusement, noting there was only a small amount of lingering discomfort in the right one. "Really now? And what do I owe you, little Spectre?"
"An apology, for laughing at my dancing."
I snorted. "Was that what you were doing? I was getting ready to grab the medkit, thinking it was some sort of seizure."
She narrowed her eyes, sitting up to perch on the edge of the bed with that familiar air of challenge. "Think you can put on a better show?"
I hesitated, only then realizing what dangerous ground I might be treading upon. Still, I shook my head, unable to help myself as I responded, "I don't think, I know I could. But turians only dance with partners, and almost never in public..."
"So? I'm right here," she said. Yep, dangerous ground.
"I don't think it's a good idea, Shepard." I really didn't have the willpower, after watching Kaidan reject her so easily, to deal with this right now. For the first time in our acquaintance, she was technically free for me to pursue her. The fact that neither of us was supposed to want to pursue the other, per our previous unspoken agreement, didn't make the opening any less blatant. Couple that with the cultural consequences of what she was trying to trick me into asking...
This had the potential for a particularly nasty form of personal disaster, no doubt about it.
She grinned at the use of her clan name, knowing she had me flustered. What she didn't know was why, and I planned on keeping it that way.
"Scared? You know I have a better sense of rhythm, don't you?"
Unfortunately, I knew exactly what a good sense of rhythm she had, thanks to her little show at Lapsus, almost two and a half years prior. That really wasn't helping my resolve to just walk away. Damn her, she knew just how to push my buttons, didn't she?
I leaned forward, almost purring, "You don't want to play this game with me, Teandra. I promise."
She paused, but was still grinning as she asked, "Why not?"
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into..." I trailed off, remembering a song from a band I'd introduced her to on the SR1. They'd made their way into her collection, despite being more mainstream than what she usually listened to, and they had a sound that would work perfectly for the situation.
I stopped cold at that last thought. You're not actually considering this, are you?
The less-than-sensible side of my brain ignored that thought, and I stood to move to the wall. Tapping lightly at the buttons on the sound system's interface, I perused her music list idly as she watched me from the bed. What the hell is wrong with me? I wondered, but that didn't stop me from giving her instructions.
"Fine. You win, Teandra. But don't say you weren't warned. Move the table so we have room." She complied, finishing just as I found what I was looking for.
By the damn spirits, if my father ever finds out about this... then again, it wasn't like he hadn't already disowned me over my so-called inappropriate relationship with the very woman in the room with me. What else could he do, other than say, "I told you so"?
Of course, that would require him to actually speak to me. Like THAT will ever happen.
I punched the button.
Instantly, the room was filled with a relentless dance beat. Teandra's face lit at the selection, one of Expel 10's older songs, as I moved towards her.
"This song, Garrus?" She smiled wistfully. "Why?"
"Be quiet, little Spectre. Pursuer leads the dance in turian society, in order to showcase his skills to..." I swiftly brought that sentence to an end, remembering that finishing it aloud would be a very bad idea. Instead, I took her hands, placing one on my shoulder plate and the other palm of the other against my own much larger one. I pulled slightly, bringing her body flush with mine.
"I guide, you follow. Respond to my movements, just like on the battlefield."
She was so close, eyes filled with excitement, possibly at the unusual way I was asserting myself. It was almost too much to deal with, the scent of her that had haunted my dreams combined with her current expression of total trust and contentment...
Watch yourself, Garrus, or this will end very, very badly. For both of you, I thought, but at that point the music and the adrenaline overrode common sense, and nothing existed but our movements.
#####
Never, not in a million years, would I ever have expected to be here, I thought as my movements matched Garrus'. Expel 10's remake of that old Chris Brown song beat around me; one that every-time I heard it, forcefully reminded me of the first time I'd heard it all over again.
"Alright kids, I know it's been raining for days and everyone is all full of energy!" Elayne's voice is that ever patient, motherly sound that you would never know belonged to a fighter with such a hard core. She wouldn't hesitate to shoot anyone who tried to intrude on our sanctuary in the run-down library we called home. Today, though, that shouldn't be an issue because of the intense downpour.
"I'm going to teach you all how to dance today. We'll start with something simple. Salsa, I think, since it has such easy steps." She moves down the line of eight children, five girls and three boys, pairing us off. I get Carra, much to everyone's amusement, but I don't care. Carra is my favorite playmate, and that makes the lesson even more fun. She takes lead, being the bigger and older one, and that's just fine by me.
Jackson is working with the music player, which is resting on what once had been the library's reference desk. It's an ancient thing, so old it probably shouldn't function anymore, but thankfully, it does. In nicer, more civilized areas of the world, anything other than digital music is pretty much extinct. Not here. Here, in our little forsaken part of the universe, contemporary technology is all but nonexistent. The only reason we even have power is because Jorley figured out how to steal it from the business building across the street, creating a hacking program to keep up with the constantly-changing password. And even then some devices aren't compatible.
With an almost imperceptible amount of static, the music starts to play, and Jackson grabs Elayne's hand enthusiastically. She laughs gleefully once she realizes what is playing.
"How did you ever find this? It's the first song we danced to..." They smile at each other in a way that makes us all groan, kissing each other lightly while we watch.
"Ewwww!" Daniella, the next-youngest girl after me says, covering her eyes with both hands.
"Grown ups are gross," grumbles Ethan, a dark-skinned boy about Carra's age.
"It's not gross. They look like Beast and Belle!" I say, and a fight would have ensued if Jackson hadn't spoken up.
"Since when am I beastly?" He sounds rather disgruntled, and proceeds to growl as he chases us around the room, hands becoming makeshift claws as we squeal at the new game.
"Alright, alright, children," Elanye says, eyes focused on Jackson as she calls us such, "line back up so you can watch us, then copy our movements." We do as we're told, as we always do when it comes to Elayne, and Jackson resumes his place in front of his partner. They assume the position, and without a single outward sign of agreement, they're off, moving gracefully around the area we've cleared for the afternoon's purpose. The group looks on in awe, only hoping we'll get a full lesson before the older kids from the gang return from their street raids.
For a few minutes, we are carefree. We are allowed to feel nothing but the music, the freedom that is associated with losing yourself within the passion the artist invested in his work...
Never in a million years.
Dancing with Garrus was not the awkward thing I had imagined it would be, when I had jokingly challenged his skill. Even within human culture, more often than not the uninitiated watch, assume it's as easy as it looks, and make idiots out of themselves as the footwork eludes them.
Garrus was not one of the uninitiated.
In a way, our movements were no different than when we'd faced down Harbinger's minions on Horizon. Our bodies moved as if they were two parts of the same whole.
I had learned Goddess knows how many dance styles from Jackson and Elayne after that rainy afternoon. With salsa, I was passable in a week, and pestered my surrogate mother until she taught me the basics of swing. When her expertise ran out, there was a plethora of knowledge at my disposal in the books and movies that were held within the stacks of the library. It was what had forced had to learn to use the card catalogue, so I could further feed my secret obsession.
Upon reflection, that's probably where my penchant for hacking and decrypting originated. I had wanted, no, needed to find out everything that I could about dancing as an art form, and had been pissed off, in my own very childish way, when roadblocks revealed themselves along the way. I stopped at nothing to get the information I needed, and that was a trait I hadn't outgrown.
Of course, no one would ever have guessed that dancing was one of my hobbies. Most knew I loved music, if they observed me for any length of time; but few knew that in my head, I was crafting entire routines to be carried out later in the privacy of my quarters, set to the strains wafting from the speakers of any sound system within my reach. It was one of my few healthy escapes from the absolute insanity that was my life. When I was listening to anything, be it Grieg or Gwen Stefani, and allowing my body to flow with the music, life ceased to hold any problems for me for a while.
But even with my knowledge, had you asked me to describe what we were doing, I couldn't have told you. The attitude was like a tango or samba: Just another competition as his pacing increased and his movements became more elaborate once he figured out I knew the correct cues and responses, and the I was willing to let him take lead. In spite of my passion for the activity, releasing control was the hardest part of the whole process. When being led on the floor, fighting the instructions of your partner would bring disaster, cause the beauty to disintegrate as the dance fell apart. I had realized that rather quickly, and because of my love for the art was able to carve a spot out in my life to allow it to happen. The dance floor became one of the few places in my life where I had learned to enjoy allowing myself to be guided by another, if only for a brief period of time.
Watching Garrus' face, however, you would have thought we were dancing a waltz: Something slow, intimate, and sensuous, yet... somehow formal. His blue eyes were filled with admiration and affection, emotions that I never doubted he felt, but that he usually kept well in check, knowing my disdain for emotional attachments. Today, though, he seemed to have lowered that barrier. Something I, surprisingly, not only found myself grateful for, but imitating. There was a softness to his taloned hands that I never would have thought to look for, one that matched his easy grace perfectly as he guided me through the motions that were purely his design.
He had called his footwork 'passable.' I now called that a joke. He was even better than I was, but I was too busy losing myself bit by bit to wonder at the strangeness.
Feels like we're on another level
Feels like our loves intertwined
We can be two rebels
Breaking the rules
Me and you
You and I
Hindered only by the small space we used, for four and a half minutes the problems of the galaxy were forced onto the back burner as my long-time partner in everything other sense of the word (alright, fine, everything but that) became my partner in a very technical and literal way. He steered me through maneuver after movement with me laughing all the while, his face lighting up each time the happy sound left me. One second he'd be leading me into a fast spin that would catch my breath as I trusted him to keep me on my feet, hair flying around me. The next, I was back in his arms as we whirled across the floor, his eyes never leaving mine.
In that moment, I knew that something had changed.
Teandra, this man has got you figured out better than you ever could have known...
He spun me again, only this time he stopped it mid-turn, yanking me back, and bringing our bodies flush as we both continued to move with the pulse of the song. I became acutely aware of how close we were, and his harsh breathing across my cheek as we melded into each other was threatening to intrude upon my calm.
If we hadn't crossed that invisible line we'd drawn in the proverbial sand just now, we were definitely stomping all over it, and that scared the hell out of me. And I really, really don't like it when anything, including my own hangups, get in the way of me having a good time. I didn't have many "good times" to look back on, and the universe could go fuck itself for conspiring to taint something that brought me even the least bit of happiness.
So, with a concerted effort, I ignored it, and my own breath quickened in turn; spurred on by the realization that my fears about him not finding me attractive were faulty, evident from the closeness of our hips and his reaction to such. Pure adrenaline and unchecked joy sang through my body, enveloping me in an emotional high that I couldn't ignore, or fight anymore.
Neither of us was willing to question ourselves until the music's spell had released us.
His warm chest to my back, I reached up to lay my left hand on his mandible, slowly bringing the pads of my fingers back down his neck as I marveled at the wondrous feel of the smooth skin that lay around the plating. We moved in tandem, as if our bodies had taken our most heartfelt need to be as one, making us overcome our own self-imposed rules; his talons moved gently over my arms until they settled on either side of my waist, ever so lightly, then more tightly as he realized I wasn't pulling away. For the first time ever, I was trusting him, as no one else before; allowing myself to believe he wouldn't rip apart my warrior's heart in this few minutes of weakness that allowed me to lay it bare.
It's a long way down,
We're so high off the ground,
Sending for an angel to bring me your heart
Girl, where did you come from?
Got me so undone...
He gripped my right hand from where it was laying over his own on my left hip, spinning me out, only to bring me right back to face him, still smiling and laughing in amazement.
Gazing in your eyes got me singing
'What a beautiful lady.'
No "ifs", "ands," or "maybes"
I'm releasing my heart and it's feeling amazing
In a breath, our foreheads met, the warmth of the silky-yet-hard skin of his carapace meeting my own. He sighed, and a murmuring sound caught my attention at the same time as a slight vibration from where our foreheads touched. His eyes closed as I watched, the sound explained as I realized that strange, yet familiar, mouth was singing along with the song. With severity, I recalled what an avid fan of the band he was, but that still didn't stop my heart from melting just a bit as I listened.
There's no one else that matters
You love me
And I won't let you fall, girl
I won't let you fall...
He lightly twirled me, bringing us back to our prior position for a moment as the song swelled to a crescendo, and I discovered that his earlier reaction to our proximity hadn't been imagined. Realizing my friend was attracted to me, and not just what I represented should have sent me over the edge of my own happy emotions with complete and total terror. But it didn't; I was beyond caring, it seemed, choosing to simply treasure the blessed lack of worry at our closeness and enjoying the sheer artistry of our instinctive responses to one another. Driven by the tune, and by my rebellious heart, I molded closer to him with a sheer abandon, something that would have scared me further.
If I'd allowed myself to examine it more closely, that is.
The vibrations of the song slowly tapered off as it ended, and, completely winded and exhilarated, we both fell backwards onto the bed, panting much more than the workout called for. As our breathing slowed, a not uncomfortable silence descended on the room for a few minutes as we both searched for something, anything to say after the amazing thing we'd both just experienced.
I'm sure there were plenty of things we could have talked about right then, but wouldn't you know it, I couldn't think of a single one that wouldn't completely ruin what had just happened.
Finally, I couldn't take the silence anymore, so I settled on asking the obvious.
"Garrus?"
"Yeah?"
"Where in the hell did that come from?" He laughed harshly at my question, and as I considered his expression, I realized he was way more embarrassed than the situation called for, no matter what reaction he'd had to our closeness. I'm an adult, Garrus. Have a little faith in me. I was still wondering as he answered my question. "Most turians can dance. Not as stylishly, of course, but they do possess the know-how."
I rolled my eyes, not sure why I was expecting a serious answer in the first place. I turned on my side to look at him, damn near rolling into him in the process. "And we don't see them ruling the dance clubs because...?" His eyes were closed as I spoke, as if he were trying to block out anything other than the activities of last few minutes from intruding.
He didn't say anything for a while, and I was about to prod him again when he finally answered. "It's not something we advertise," he sighed, and it was probably the happiest sound I had heard out of him in the entire time of our acquaintance. Definitely since I'd found him again.
"Garrus, that's not an explanation." I propped myself up on an elbow to look him in the face, waiting for him to go on.
Again, he sighed, saying, "No, Teandra, it isn't. I warned you not to play this game with me, so now you'll just have to deal with waiting to find out. If I tell you more, it'll kill this mood, and I'm rather comfortable right now." His voice still held that perpetual sarcasm, but there was something else in his tone that I couldn't quite define. I shook my head, laying on his chest before I realized what I was doing. I kept it there for nearly half a minute before my conscious mind caught up with the rest of me, and I jumped, starting to pull away only to feel his arm come around, resting on my waist as if it belonged there. I blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what to make of this latest development, then thought better of it.
Nope, not going to think too hard about anything right now.
I snuggled into the hollow of his arm at that accepting gesture, thinking all the while, What in the hell is wrong with me? Rarely did I grant myself this sort of weakness. My survival instincts screamed at me, telling me to get up and run, as fast and as far as I could, but I forced them down with the sheer, unfettered exultation of the last few minutes. (Hours? Days? I'd honestly lost track of time at that point.)
"The emotional high I totally get. That was amazing," I breathed into his shirt, inhaling deeply as I took in his scent. The strange combination of cinnamon and ocean, always seeming to be laced with the smell of spent heat sinks and rifle oil.
Completely without preamble, that night from so long ago came back to me, and it was all I could do not to groan out loud with mortification. While, initially, I'd had no recollection of what had transpired after we left the bar in the Palazar hotel, bits and pieces had been coming to the surface in the last few months. One of those memories was one that Garrus hadn't related to me the morning after, as he'd been completely dead to the world next to me at the time it had occurred.
I hadn't recalled waking up at all during the night I'd spent in his room, but apparently, I had. His scent brought forth an image to my mind's eye, one that I had only replayed once since that night, right after the mission to Freedom's Progress. Seeing Tali after, what I later realized, was a very long time, only to have to part ways with her again? It had left me feeling completely homesick for what I'd had before the Collectors had decided to take everything away from me, the closest thing to home I had known since leaving Earth behind.
I try to roll over, but find I can't turn all the way over onto my right side. The instinctive response to my restricted movements causes me to start awake. My movements are sluggish and my vision blurry, but I can't figure out why, which causes me even more alarm. I reach out my right hand, trying to figure out where I am, and come in contact with something warm and familiar, yet... not. I turn my head, and I nearly expel the contents of my stomach right then and there, as the motion causes my vision to swim for a moment. I shove my nausea down reflexively, in soldier mode as I scramble to decipher my surrounding, and wait for my vision to return to normal. The fog clears, finally, and the kaleidoscope of colors and shapes coalesce into a very familiar face.
"Garrus?" I whisper worriedly, reaching up with my right hand to try to shake him awake. Something is wrong, and I'm not sure if he is injured, or drugged, or dying... Before I could even touch him, though, one of his arms wraps around my waist, cradling me to his chest. I feel a slight pressure on my left arm, but ignore it, focusing on my companion.
A rather rough-textured leg pulls my lower half closer to him, and he murmurs quietly, "S'okay. I've got you. Go back to sleep, Teandra."
I lift my head to ask him what he means by that, only to realize he is snoring again. My head drops back down to the bed, and without another thought, I snuggle closer to him. If he says everything is okay, then everything really is okay. I didn't need any more confirmation than that. He'd never allow me to come to harm...
I hadn't talked to him about it, as I was pretty sure he had no idea it had happened at all, since he hadn't mentioned it the next day. And I sure as hell wasn't going to mention it now. At this rate, it would probably be better to keep it to myself, and I'd be lying if a small part of me didn't cheer at the idea of having that one little memory to call my own.
He didn't answer, but I felt his chest rumble just a bit as he chuckled in response. I closed my eyes lazily, enveloped in a cocoon of serenity as his talons played lightly up and down my side.
It was astounding, how easy I found it to let go with Garrus. I don't snuggle, plain and simple. Yet in the time I'd known him this was the third time I'd ended up seduced into the arms of this man; and not even in the way I usually am. By now, with anyone else, sex would be all I was thinking about. And while I'm sure that would have been fun as hell, as my daydreams had made quite clear, at that moment I was just... content. Content was a good word.
We couldn't have lain that way for all that long, though, when I felt his body tense. I picked my head up, pulling back slightly as I tried to discern what caused the change.
His eyes snapped open, latching onto my face as if trying to gauge my mood. Whatever he saw there must not have been the response he wanted to see, though, because suddenly the moment was broken and he rapidly sat up with an expression on his face that could only be described as 'pained.'
"Well, seeing as how you're all cheered up now, I've got some work to do on the Thanix Cannon." Normally, I would have almost been forced to point out how inappropriate that sounded, all things considered, but he looked so completely flustered already that I couldn't make myself do it. The bed squeaked slightly as he stood, moving for the door with a purpose. I looked after him in utter confusion from my half-propped position.
He slowed, then stopped as he reached the doorframe, one hand gripping either side as he hesitated. I sat up fully, watching as he fought some internal battle. He took a breath, started to speak, thought better of it, then started again.
There's something strange going on here, I thought, watching him.
Finally, he turned back halfway, voice almost back to its usual humor as he said, "And Teandra? Thank you for the dance." There was also an almost formal tone to the words, as if it were part of a ritual response.
My confusion grew, but I ignored it as I answered, "Any time, Garrus." He chuckled, the sound a poor imitation of what it should have sounded like. It sounded, to me, just this side of contrived, but the body language didn't match. Releasing some of his body's tension, he nodded as he resumed his forward motion without another word.
Definitely something strange going on here. What the hell?
The empty room gave me no answers. Shrugging in resignation, I idly tapped my omni-tool, queuing the song to start playing again as I lay back down. It was only there, with my mind wrapped within my recent memory and my arms wrapped around a pillow that was too soft to be a true substitute, I gave myself permission to smile like the idiot I felt.
One thing I knew for sure: I would never forget that afternoon.
Never in a million years.
#####
bang...
Bang...
BANG...
"Officer Vakarian. Cerberus has spent considerable resources building this vessel. While turian skull-plating is indicated to do very little damage when applied to the material used in the Normandy's production, it would still be advisable for you to cease using it to apply such a large amount of force to the wall."
I hesitated, forehead pressed against the cool metal of the forward batteries, groaning, "NnB, leave me alone please. I've got too much verna to deal with to worry about your 'resources' right now." The only reason I wasn't being mean was because if it weren't for her interruption, my head would probably be halfway through the bulkhead by now.
Garrus Vakarian, you are an idiot, one part of my brain admonished, a damn moron. What do you think she's going to do when she realizes what just happened?
Nothing, the other half of my brain answered, because you're not going to tell her, and no one else would know the significance. Like you said, it's not something that's advertised, so... no blood, no foul.
Still, didn't change the fact that I was dead if she figured it out.
I'm so excited, and nervous, but not nearly as much as I'd have been if I waited to join Dad at the Citadel before starting dance lessons. This class is filled with boys and girls of varying ages; but most are younger, like me, their parents wanting to get it over with before true battle training starts. A lot of the kids are friends of mine, though as news of Mom and Dad's 'separation' has begun to spread, they are beginning to avoid me. Today, however, my assigned partner is Borshet Artern, the most skilled in this particular group. They always try to pair her up with first-timers, apparently, and today is no exception.
We line up across the expanse of empty floor, the instructor calling out as we do so, "Now remember, class, pursuer will lead during the first stage of the courting phase. Today, we'll have the males take lead."
I've been battle training with Dad for a long time, and this isn't much different. There is a grace and beauty to the battlefield that even my young eyes have seen; one that translates easily here.
Learning to fight had been a grueling, torturous process as I retrained my body to respond with muscle memory and instinct instead of thought. Learning to dance, however, is a natural progression forward; the mindset not so different.
The music begins, and in spite of the fact that I have never been to a single class, my body knows what to do. Borshet is followed by Arene. Then Ruskat. By the end of the session, no one remembers my parents marital problems.
They only remember me, and the first skill that I know is to be my own; the first one I can be proud of for the fact that it is mine, though it won't be the last. I leave the dance hall, and as Mom bundles me into the family shuttle with my sisters, all I can think about is the tortuously long week I have to suffer through before my next lesson.
I couldn't help but smile at the fading memory, and the afternoon. I threw myself back on my cot, hands behind my head as I stared at the ceiling.
In spite of the problems it added to my already overly-complicated life, I wouldn't have traded my dance with Teandra for anything.
She had responded so passionately, so enthusiastically... held back nothing of herself for the duration of the song's enchantment. That glimpse into her inner romantic was enough to make me want to charge back upstairs and ask her to do it again.
I tapped absently at my omnitool without looking at it, queuing the song to start replaying as I considered that further.
Consideration was necessary, since a much deeper part of me wanted to not only dance with her again, but to explain the significance as well and see where it lead...
At least that urge was pretty easily squelched, mostly by the prospect of her rejection.
Maybe one day, I thought rebelliously, staring at the ceiling as the lyrics flowed over me.
