**NOTE: The following are video chat transcripts between Garrus and Teandra, and their biographers, Misty and Luna-

Garrus: You only use Teandra's music, Misty. It's tainting my badass reputation. I'm choosing the next song to start the chapter.

Misty: Garrus, you know I love you, but your playlist does not have what I need.

Teandra: Turian music is a little hard to get good lyrics from...

Garrus: So you're on her side, then?

Teandra: Not really. Actually, I say you use that new Diamond of Shame track.

Misty: (shaking her head) A turian screamer band? C'mon you two.

Garrus: (laughing) What if I pick something from Tandy's playlist? Then can I choose?

Luna: It's a reasonable request, Misty. As long as it fits the theme of the chapter it shouldn't be a problem.

Garrus: Finally, the voice of reason has joined the conversation. So good of you to finally show up.

Luna: (rubbing at her eye with the heel of her hand) Hey, I'm working overtime at the day job. Cut me some slack.

Teandra: Oh, cry me a river. We're the ones doing most of the work, here.

Luna: (glaring) Without that overtime, no one would know you were doing much of ANYTHING, because I'd have no internet connection. -_-

Misty: (to Garrus, deliberately ignoring Teandra and Luna) I have a feeling I'm going to regret this, but okay. Fine. What do you choose?

(Garrus and Teandra share a glance. He tilts his head. She nods wickedly.)

Garrus: (to Misty, mandibles flaring in amusement as he crosses his arms) Lamb of God - "Laid to Rest."

Luna: (snorts) Hell, yeah! This one gets my vote.

Misty: (glaring) I hate you all so much right now. (does headdesk)

Luna: (smirking) And now that we've broken my intrepid co-author, on with the story. ;)


I'll chain you to the truth

For the truth shall set you free

I'll turn the screws of vengeance

And bury you with honesty

I'll make all your dreams come to life

And slay them as quickly as they came

Smother another failure

Lay this to rest

Lamb of God - "Laid to Rest"

Chapter 7 - The End Justifies the Means

"We're a little exposed out here. Especially if anyone's in that elevator," Garrus said, popping a heatsink as he spoke and reloading without even looking down.

"I was just thinking the same thing myself, Garrus," I responded, doing the same.

"Well, there's no lack of cover," he replied unnecessarily, the sardonic flanging holding a note of amusement as he glanced pointedly at all the surrounding boxes, crates, and piles of metal beams.

Goddamn, do all the bad guys shop at Crate & Barrel, or something? If I ever take Jack up on her offer to go pirate, do I need to set up a registry there, or can I just buy stuff off the shelf?

We posted up behind the nearest cover, directly in front of the elevator, and waited.

Illium was... like a hybrid of the Citadel and Omega, with a little bit of Feros thrown in for good measure. (Though, thankfully, it was lacking in homicidal shrubbery.) In a way, it was like some of the poisonous insects of Earth's ever-disappearing terrestrial jungles: Beautiful, but deadly under the surface.

The number of familiar faces I'd run into since we'd made berth, however, was astounding. Positively astounding. I'd barely entered port when I ran into a messenger from the Rachni Queen herself, probably one of the stranger experiences of my life. Still, it was heartening to know that someone was ready to back me up, even if it was a creepy giant bug thing. Noveria on my brain already from that encounter, it had taken almost no effort to recognize Gianna Parasini, or to bail her ass out again. And let's not forget Shiala, that asari the Thorian had taken such a liking to.

I really should have know better than to help an asari in any capacity, but what can I say? I'm bighearted. It's not that I mind gratitude or anything, but must they all offer their thanks by trying to bed you? Garrus' comments about forgetting to take a particular t-shirt off didn't help my mood any, either. Had it been anyone else, I might have actually shot them. Smug bastard.

Still, all that running around had led us to Liara. Good on the one hand, because it was nice to see someone from the old team actually interested in helping. Crappy on the other, though, because now she was even scarier than I was.

"I'll make it simple. Either you pay me, or I'll flay you alive... with my mind."

A couple of errands later, and I had my information about both Krios and the Justicar. I wish Liara and I could have talked a little longer, but it seemed she had her own life and her own things to do.

Just like everybody else, I thought with a sigh.

"Good old Nassana Dantius," I commented dryly. "Should have killed her when I had the chance."

"She was in the middle of the Citadel surrounded by witnesses," Garrus responded. "Even you aren't that good. The only thing you you could have gotten away with was blackmailing her over killing her sister, and you succeeded in doing exactly that. She didn't try anything on that station ever again."

Nope, she just pulled up stakes and set up shop elsewhere. Such an improvement, that.

"Guess this Krios character will have to finish the job for us then..." With a ping, the elevator opened, cutting off whatever else I had planned to say. Three very well armored, Eclipse soldiers, both with armament and tech, came through the now open doors. The two asari were tough, don't get me wrong, but as they fell all I could say was: "That krogan is a stone bitch. Garrus! Concussive round."

"Something addled your brains, little Spectre? Useless against barriers."

I shot a fireball, cursing. "Kasumi, any ideas?"

"Pound away at it 'til it dies?" She shot a burst of fire from her Shuriken in his direction, for emphasis.

"Wow, you always this helpful, 'Sumi?"

"Nope! Only for you, Shep."

"First Grunt fills my testosterone quota," I muttered under my breath, though not so low the comm wouldn't catch it, " and now you fill smart-ass quota."

"That's no mean feat," Garrus interjected, firing another three round burst that toppled our opponent. "I've been trying to peg that meter for years."

"That's not all you've been trying to peg, I hear," Kasumi laughed.

I glared at her, but Garrus only chuckled as he said, "You telling all our dirty secrets now, Shepard?"

I decided to ignore them both in favor of gathering ammo. Someone had to keep the supplies full, after all. We hit elevator once we were restocked, and silence ensued, giving me more time to think.

This whole mission, no this dossier, bothered me. A fucking assassin, Teandra? Just what you need around the ship... another reminder of the life I'd left behind. Of the woman I had been. Someone who saw the kill as a challenge instead of an atrocity.

I had Red under control; finally. She had already been fading into the background again, but had become nearly silent now, seemingly because of my afternoon with Garrus following Horizon.

He hadn't spoken about it again, after his abrupt departure, and I hadn't brought it up. Our next interaction had been as comfortable as always, no awkwardness; and while he was a good actor, he wasn't that good. Because of that, I'd fought the urge to research his little cultural secret, deciding in the end that I really didn't want to know. If he'd pulled some damn Saffron-Firefly wedding dance shit on me, I just didn't want it tainting the memory. And if it were something more innocent, I'd feel like an ass for doubting him. Regardless of whether there was some weird, secret meaning, though, the experience had reminded me with vivid clarity of who I'd been when I first met him. Before Cerberus had begun to tear me apart one little piece at at time. I felt alive again, damnit, and there was no way in hell I was going to let that feeling fade away.

Or forget that Garrus had been the one to give it to me in the first place. It was time for me to admit that his part in my life might be something more special than I wanted it to be.

Okay, not right then, as an elevator that could open up on an ambush was probably not the best place for that, but you get what I mean.

The elevator slowed, then stopped, and I readied my Mantis, unsure of what we would find on the other side of the door. I glanced at Garrus and Kasumi, noting they were doing the same. Goddess, I love this team. I think we might actually have a shot at this whole damn Collector thing. The doors opened, and our trio quietly exited the lift, only to be greeted by an expansive window and a single human Eclipse merc talking on his radio.

"I haven't heard from teams 4 or 5… Don't worry. My team's always ready to go…I don't know where he is. Not yet… Don't worry about it. We don't need any reinforcements… I'll take care of it. It's under control… I'll go down there myself."

He was much too busy reassuring his higher ups to even hear us approaching. Complacency will get you killed, a lesson I had learned very early in my life.

A lesson he'd apparently skipped, in favor of perfecting Advanced Ass-Kissing.

"Turn around, very slowly." Kasumi pointed her Shuriken easily at the man, seemingly unconcerned with his close proximity to the window. Garrus did the same, but his Vindicator wasn't actually at the ready. Just showcased in his hands.

Great to know he believes I can take care of myself. I snorted.

"Damn it," the merc said in irritation, putting both his hands into the air to signify his surrender. It was hard to read him, due to the helmet that covered his face, and not having access to the facial expressions so essential to my normal conversation tactics was a bit of a handicap. Then again, there's something to be said for old-fashioned kneecap-busting. I moved forward a bit, forcing our merc to back two steps closer to the window.

"Have you seen the assassin?" I asked. A very simple question to start, since I was apparently dealing with a brilliant criminal mind under that helmet.

"Why are you looking for him? You're not one of Nassana's mercs. Who are you?" A question to answer a question. Great. Deflection always makes me pissy, since it's such an amateur tactic. If you're going to try to outmaneuver me, the least you can do is give it a real effort. Anything less, and I feel insulted.

I'm sure you know by now what happens when I feel insulted.

Taking another step forward, again making the man back up a little further, I tried again. "Answer my questions and I'll let you go." He backed up a little further, his back hitting the very high window with a soft tink.

"Look, girl. Even if I knew where he was I wouldn't tell you." I heard an intake of breath from Kasumi, possibly at my facial expression at his challenge. Red might have been my inner bitch, but I wasn't exactly a nice girl without her, either. I leaned in until my face was only inches from his, choosing threat over seduction in this case just because he'd pissed me off.

"Not the answer I was looking for. Care to try again?"

He crossed his arms, and I really wished I could have seen his face. Would have made it much, much easier to interpret why he did it. Then, he said with forced bravado, "I've got nothing more to say to you." You could hear the fear in his voice, clear and genuine, which almost made me admire his loyalty in the face of it. But I was also struck with a familiar hint of glee at the idea of just giving him one good shove, forcing him to take the express elevator down instead of the more snail-like contraption behind us.

An emotion that only got stronger as he went on in a cocky tone, "If you shoot me, my team's right through there. They'll be all over you."

I felt my hands ball into fists. There'd be no witnesses, so no reason not to push him, but... that wasn't who I was. Wasn't who I wanted to be.

Besides, there would be witnesses. Two, to be exact.

"Is a little information really worth dying over? Is Nassana?" I whispered quietly, pointing out the obvious, reverting to my more peaceful tactics with a sigh.

He seemed to consider this a little more closely, before conceding. "No, I suppose not." I smiled, backing off a fraction as he continued, "Okay, look. Last I heard, the assassin was down on the mezzanine. But the teams on the bridge think they might have spotted him. Nobody knows for sure." I raised an eyebrow, considering the truth in his words before deciding it didn't matter. I wasn't going to kill him, and we could outshoot him if we needed to, anyway.

"Get out of here." He all but ran from us, only looking back once to make sure we didn't have a gun at his back. I almost smiled at the absurdity of the whole thing, that I'd let him go only to shoot him anyway. Some people might, I guess, but nice girl or not I'd never been one to break my word.

Hell, keep this up and maybe you'll actually earn that hero title they keep trying to pin on you.

"He owes you one," Garrus said, interrupting my thoughts as he looked at me in surprise. "Anybody else would have killed him."

I shrugged. "Well, I'm not just anybody, right?"

He tilted his head at me, considering my expression for a second, before finally nodding in approval.

The effect of that expression was an idiotic grin on my part, one it seemed I couldn't keep off my face around him anymore. Still, I considered it no harm, no foul... until I saw the look Kasumi was sporting. She was wearing that sly and knowing smirk again, the same one she'd had during our conversation about 'marks.' I narrowed my eyes at her and got back down to business before she could share anything disastrous from that afternoon.

Sending her and Garrus to the left of the elevator we'd entered while I took the right, we worked our way through Eclipse and mechs, servicing the targets with little difficulty. The only distraction was another group of salarians our mysterious assassin had trapped. I couldn't stop talking about it as we started working our way across a bridge, still fighting.

"Fucker pulled a gun on me. Feel sorry for him, but damnit, I nearly fucking shot him..." I trailed off as I fired another round from the Mantis almost absently, "Still, that was a hell of a shot our assassin pulled off."

"A perfect headshot with no collateral damage? I'm impressed, anyway," Garrus replied.

"I'm telling you, if I didn't know better, I'd think Cerberus was catering to me with all the snipers. First you, then Zaeed, now Krios."

"Aw, what's wrong, little Spectre? Feeling threatened?" He fired a round at one of the turrets attacking us, causing it to explode, "I promise I won't leave you for the next pretty girl with an HMWSR we come across."

I gasped sharply at his statement, causing me to jerk the trigger and miss the target. I cursed, saying, "Damnit, Vakarian..."

He just snorted as he fired without hesitation, taking down the target I'd missed.

"The wind threw off my trajectory," I improvised, a story neither of my companions bought.

"Ri-ight," Garrus said, in unison with Kasumi's amused, "Sure it did."

I shot a fireball at the other turret, clearing our path, saying, "That's it. I'm not taking you two on missions at the same time anymore. Thieves and cops... banes of my existence," as we made our way up the stairs.

There was one centurion in hiding at the top, pretty easily dispatched once our whole trio was there. No sooner had I hit the asari with a fireball to drop the her shields than Kasumi's cloaked form materialized behind her, dropping the woman with a laugh.

"Hey Shepard. I like this girl. Can we keep her?" Garrus said dryly as I hacked the door the guard had been so intent to keep us away from. With good reason, since behind it lay the very woman responsible for all the carnage we'd witnessed.

Nassana Dantius. I remembered her well enough. Enough to recall that she'd been my Irene Adler, playing me for a fool and tricking me into murder. She had been cool, calm, a politician and such a well-trained liar that even I hadn't caught onto her bullshit. So to see that collected demeanor absent in the woman pacing restlessly back and forth in front of us was more than a little gratifying, if I were to be honest. She seemed genuinely surprised to see us, which, in turn, surprised me. As we walked forward into the room, her knowing blue eyes flicking from me to my companions, all she managed to say was:

"Shepard... but, you're dead."

"I got better," I answered sarcastically, taking a few more steps forward as her commandos resettled their stances with their weapons more fully focused on me.

"And now you're here to kill me," Nassana declared. I couldn't help but scoff at that. If I'd wanted her dead, she'd already have been there. I'd have had Garrus snipe her from out the window, or had Kasumi cloak before we entered the room. Or hell, just thrown up a barrier and shot her, depending on my team to take out the others. But I didn't believe in useless revenge, and killing her was all that would have been.

"You're really paranoid, aren't you?" I said back with more than a little condescension, something it seemed Nassana wasn't willing to let pass without comment.

"Don't patronize me, Shepard."

I rolled my eyes at her current lack of tact, "Charming as ever, I see."

"I'm sure you find this all very ironic. First you take care of my sister, and now you're here for me... "

"Coincidental." I interrupted, almost giggling as I heard Garrus snort beside me.

"Excuse me?" Nassana asked, brows pinching in confusion. I fought the urge to laugh all over again at the complete ridiculousness of the whole thing.

"It's coincidental, not ironic, because irony implies you wouldn't think I'd be here to kill you. Since you obviously do, it's not ironic. It's coincidental."

She apparently decided that answering me would only give me an opening to tease her further, because she ignored that comment in favor of our original topic of conversation. "Well, you made it this far. So now what?"

"You really do think I'm here to kill you, don't you?" My head tilted to the side as I watched her face. She really was afraid of us, though not nearly as afraid as she should have been if she truly thought we were the assassination team. She's been privy to the smoking ruin of dead bodies her sister's base had become, so she really should have known better. We'd have come in guns blazing if she were our target.

"Do you have another reason for destroying my tower? Decimating my security?"

"I was PMS-ing?" When she didn't seem to buy that explanation, her expression never even wavering, I rolled my eyes and settled on the truth. "I'm just looking for someone."

"You expect me to believe that?" I just looked at her, arms crossed with my hand cannon held lightly in one hand, eyebrow raised. "Is it credits? Is that what you want? Just tell me your price. We can make this problem go away." There was a banging noise above us, followed a second later by a single click over the comm: Garrus letting me know he'd heard it too. It had to be our guy, infiltrating the place through the air ducts. It's how I would have done it, anyway.

It seemed that neither the security personnel or our assassin's quarry had heard, however; and I wasn't going to enlighten them. "All the credits in the world won't make this problem go away, Nassana."

"Who the hell gave you the right to play god?" the woman asked angrily, gesturing towards me with murder in her eyes. "I may not be perfect, but look at you. We both kill people for money, what's the difference?"

"I have class?" I returned, hearing another noise above us, soon confirmed by my turian partner. Time to keep her distracted, I decided. Should give him an opening to make his move, whatever it may be.

"You kill people because you think they're beneath you; they're in your way. I kill people because they leave me no choice." Okay, so not technically true, but who said monologuing should be true? No one ever told the movie badguys that, anyway; I felt justified.

"You've got a choice. You don't have to do this. I can tell you..." This time she was interrupted by a much louder thump, and a panicked look from one of her entourage as they all began to sweep the room with their rifles suspiciously. Thing is, Nassana had never been one to take anything but credits or political power seriously; including her own security detail, in this case.

So her only response to her soldiers (correct) instincts was to fire an emphatic and impatient, "What?" at the nearest one.

"I heard something," she stated matter-of-factly, allowing none of her fear to show. See, if Nassana trusts that woman to keep that one safe, she may have a shot.

But of course, she didn't. Idiot.

"Damn it. Check the other entrances." She ordered, motioning the woman to move left as her gaze frantically darted into the corners of the obviously empty room. Finally, they settled back on me, turning her anger there as she pointed emphatically in my direction, "You... stay put..."

Her attention really should have stayed on the room, because then maybe she'd have noticed the bit of shadow that dropped from the ceiling tile above her. As it was, she continued to speak as he landed easily, "When I finish dealing with this nuisance, you and I are going to..." Finally, she seemed to sense that all was not right, turning as she asked in complete confusion. "Who...?

The man didn't answer, instead becoming a blur of motion as he went into action. With three deft movements, the man I could only assume was Thane Krios snapped the neck of one man, crushed the windpipe of another with a single fist to the throat, then pulled his pistol with one swift motion only to practically fire it from the hip into the chest of the asari commando. The last body was still almost upright as he whirled, grabbing Nassana Dantius' hand and bringing her gently into his Predator. An electronic whine signaled the weapon's next shot, giving the target a millisecond to tense before the drell fired a single round through her stomach. Cradling her gently behind the head, he lay her back easily across the desk, folding her hands over her chest as if she were his lover instead of his victim. Staring at her sadly, he folded his own hands in turn, bowing his head in a way that was completely incongruous with his surroundings.

"Wow, you really know how to make an entrance," Garrus said dryly. The assassin ignored him.

I could only stare at him for a moment, completely disoriented by the display, before saying the only thing my brain would produce. " I was hoping to talk to you." There you go. State the obvious. Let him know how much his little show intimidated you. You're getting to be about as bad as Garrus.

Yet, if he noticed, he was very good at hiding it. I'd never met a drell before, so any skills I had at reading people were useless when applied to this situation. Still, he seemed very patient, if sorrowful, as he responded, "I apologize, but prayers for the wicked must not be forsaken." There was a strange flanging to his voice, similar to Garrus', but this one set me on edge. Still, not trusting my instincts yet, I decided to stick with truthful replies for now.

"Do you really think she deserves it?" My own bias aside, I was curious how this man could justify praying for the monster he'd just slain. His face contorted slightly at my words, in an expression not unlike one of human guilt.

But all he said was, "Not for her. For me." I tilted my head, unsure of what to make of him. He dropped his hands, holstering his weapon as he moved around the desk, speaking all the while and gaze never leaving me. His eyes were a reflective black, like onyx, and absolutely indecipherable. His clothing was obviously chosen for easy movement, a form-fitting leather not unlike my own sneak suit, though much more fashion-forward. He moved with an easy grace, completely unconcerned by our trio, or the weapons we all pointed in his direction.

"The measure of an individual can be difficult to discern by actions alone. Take you, for example," he gestured at me with one hand as he took another slow step forward, eyes still trained on me unblinking. I resisted the urge to back away, but only just. "All this destruction. Chaos. I was curious to see how far you'd go to find me." We walked past me, finally glancing at Kasumi before stopping in front of Garrus' sights, the turian's Incisor held rock steady. "Well... here I am." His words actually held a note of laughter. Almost like Finch when he was observing a potential adversary. It was then that I realized why he made me so jumpy.

When faced with a man such as this, my own skills paled by comparison, like a child playing doctor next to their surgeon father. It was immediately obvious that this was not the cocky, heartless killer I had assumed he would be. Regardless of who he reminded me of, though, there was a... serenity about him, but also a heavy guilt that was almost as obvious as his other, much more deadly attributes. I was a manipulator by choice; this man breathed the ability. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I feared him more than anyone I'd ever met in my life... and that he would see it in an instant. There was no way I'd be able to hide it from him, no matter how hard I tried.

I could only hope he wouldn't use it against me until I had a chance to study him more closely; that was my only salvation. I holstered my weapon, knowing it would do me no good if he chose to end my life. Kasumi followed suit, but not Garrus. His hand shook ever so slightly, and he was obviously worried by my close proximity to the assassin. But, as he seemed in control of himself, I didn't comment. In a way, it was comforting to know he had my back, just like always.

"I do want to talk to you, but how did you know I was here?" I wasn't sure I actually cared, but it was buying me time to regain my composure. Time I desperately needed, though only someone as well trained as Thane (or as close to me as Garrus) would ever know.

"Gunfire and explosions. I prefer to work quietly. If I have to fight through guards, I made a mistake. I rarely make mistakes." There was a disapproval to his voice that immediately made me want to snap out an apology. I resisted the instinct, but hated him for dragging me right back into the responses I would have given my old mentor. Even dead, I couldn't get that man out of my head.

"You disrupted my plan," Krios went on, "but your distraction eventually proved valuable."

"You used me so you could kill her. I'd say I was insulted, but honestly I'm just impressed."

He turned away from Garrus' rifle, facing me once again as he responded, "I needed a diversion. You needed to speak with me. You certainly fulfilled your end of the bargain, so what would you like to discuss?"

I quietly noted that my partner had decided his weapon was useless as a threatening gesture, since he finally holstered it. It gave me a shot of confidence, knowing Garrus' instincts told him we weren't in immediate danger.

"Someone's been abducting entire human colonies. We're going to stop them." As I spoke, Krios walked back towards the window, gazing out over Illium as the sun set behind its vast expanse. "We already know the culprits: A race called the Collectors."

He bowed his head, hands clasped behind his back, before turning to face us. "I've heard of them." He looked up, his eyes once again boring into me as he spoke, "Attacking the Collectors will require passing through the Omega-4 Relay. No ship has ever returned from doing so."

Now that the desk was back between us, I had a small (if most likely false) sense of security, and therefore was able to put a little more pride behind my words as I retorted, "They told me it was impossible to get to Ilos, too."

His face, for some unknown reason, seemed to soften somewhat at that statement. "A fair point," he conceded, "You've built a career on performing the impossible." He turned back to the window , and encouraged by his slumped shoulders and determined to face this whole damn situation like the warrior I was, I stepped up beside him. He bowed his head again, taking a deep breath and letting it out, closing his eyes as he did so. When he finally looked back up, for just a moment I caught sight of the orbs that lay below the glasslike covering, eyes that were very human among all that alienness. Then, the onyx skin returned as he said wearily, "This was to be my last job. I'm dying."

My head snapped up fully at those words, staring at the back of his head as if I could decipher his revelations a little more fully. I mean, what the hell can you say to a statement like that? 'I'm sorry' or 'Don't you have better things to do than go traipsing around the galaxy?' didn't seem to be nearly strong enough sentiments.

As if sensing my trepidation, he went on, "Low survival odds don't concern me; the abduction of your colonists does."

Finally, I worked up the ability to speak, settling for, "I hadn't heard that. Is there anything I can do?" I felt like a complete bitch for the way I was reacting to him, since it wasn't his fault he reminded me of my old 'teacher.' Even a casual observation made it obvious the two men were on opposite ends of the spectrum.

The assassin was a study in contradiction, in multiple layers of self. To deny him and his considerable skills would be to prove that Finch really did create the person he'd struggled to, and that thought overcame the rest of my irrational fear. I refused to let my own hangups get in the way of adding such a great asset to our arsenal, no matter what the personal cost.

Apparently he agreed, if his words were any indication when he spoke again.

"Giving me this opportunity is enough," he replied, eyes still trained on the setting sun. "The universe is a dark place. I trying to make it a little brighter before I die." His shoulders went back, and he turned to me from his position less than a foot away, continuing, "Many innocents died today. I wasn't fast enough and they suffered. I must atone for that."

"Why? Why would you have to atone for their deaths?" I didn't realize I'd spoken aloud till I'd said it; but the assassin only looked at me in contemplation, completely non-plussed. I felt like I was under examination, under a microscope, in the most uncomfortable of ways. Finally, scrutiny apparently satisfied, he said:

"I will work for you, Shepard. No charge," he held out his hand, a motion I imitated without hesitation, I was proud to say, his gloved hand warm even through the leather.

"We're headed back to the ship now, if you'd like to accompany us," Garrus commented, voicing his thoughts for only the second time since entering the room.

"No, thank you. I prefer to travel on my own, and have some things to gather before I meet you there." He walked towards the door Nassana's mercenary had been so intent on checking when he entered the room, only to turn back after two steps.

"It was irony, by the way," he said.

I tilted my head, an expression he matched until I finally asked, "How do you get that?"

"You did aid in her death. You weren't planning on doing so. So the outcome is unexpected, and therefore, ironic."

I looked back at Garrus and Kasumi, and I'm sure my face was saying something along the lines of, Is this guy for real? We wouldn't find out that day, though, because in the half-second it took me to turn back, he'd disappeared.

Thing was, I wasn't even surprised.

"C'mon. Let's get back to the ship. I'd hate to think what Jacob and Miranda will do if he shows up without us," Kasumi commented. I nodded, walking over to Nassana and snatching a keycard off her waist before making for her private elevator.

Once inside the glass box, I slid the keycard home, punched the button for the first level...

...and barely resisted the urge to slump to the floor in relief as my stomach continued to twist and turn into knots of self-loathing.

Watching Thane eliminate those men... had not been pleasant. It was far too reminiscent of my own early days, my own work. Even so, it probably wouldn't have effected me at all, except for the fact that one of my kills had been plaguing my dreams for days. It hadn't been nearly as clean as the one I'd just witnessed; had almost always haunted me, but was worse since that fateful first sparring match with Garrus on the SR1. He had never realized how close he'd come to dying that day, and I intended on keeping it that way. But keeping the secret made the memory harder to fight, even more difficult to stave off...

Three. Three is such a small number. At least, when you think about things like days of food, or hours of sleep, or bullets in a gun.

But human lives? Not so small; and the man whose room I now occupy is to be target number three.

The easy part is over. I'd spent two weeks on recon for how to get into this bedroom with him. I've researched his preferences down to the last detail. My outfit is a modified, lowcut version of my sneak suit, artfully ripped and slashed to show skin without too much; dark fishnets peek out from the synthetic fiber only to end in black, thigh-high boots. His gothic clothing preferences were bad enough, but having to dye my hair blond was just annoying. It makes me want to make him suffer, but Finch wants him killed clean. Still, the time I spent casing him made the flirting and sashaying simple to accomplish. He knows me only as Jewel, what little he actually cares about my name, a ditz with a passion for alcohol and dancing. A girl who isn't afraid to touch an arm or a shoulder to get his full attention. She's exactly his kind of girl, and yet he still held out for several days.

Almost makes me respect him, though he's still going to die by my hands this night.

My first two kills had been easy and simple endeavors, and I have no reason to believe this one will be any different. Men are so easily manipulated, especially when you know their triggers, their desires. At first, I'd felt a need to struggle not to use my skills in everyday life, until I'd realized that it didn't matter. Finch would rule Charleston when I was done, and he approved of me keeping my skills sharp with his boys. If he didn't care, then I had no reason to hold back.

The 25th Street Blades, that's what Hashim calls his gang. The reason for the violent moniker is evident by the decorations on his wall, knives and daggers of varying sizes and designs. One in particular, a throwing star displayed on a wooden plaque, catches my attention as I circle the room, checking for weapons as my host changes. The ones displayed are loose, easy to grab, and my estimation of his stupidity is increased.

I didn't even need to bring my own weapon for this one. I could have just used his own against him.

A whoosh behind me draws my gaze back there, the opening of the door as Hashim approaches. He is wearing nothing but a robe, albeit completely concealing, but not enough to disguise an almost dangerously muscled chest and arms. He is a handsome man, if nothing else, and if I have to fuck him before plunging my knife into him, it won't be a total loss.

"Admiring my collection, I see."

"They're very beautiful," I coo, "but so bloody. Doesn't that scare you, being surrounded by so much..." I trail off, letting him take over the conversation as he approaches a champagne bottle chilling at his bar.

"Violence?" He finishes, popping the cork expertly before pouring two glasses, gorgeous crystal things that almost sing under my hand as he passes me one. "I'm surrounded by bloodshed every day." He raises his own glass to his lips, and I do the same, imbibing nothing. He takes a delicate sip, swirling the liquid around in his mouth sensuously before continuing. I stifle the urge to roll my eyes at his seduction technique, well acted as it is.

"This city is rotting, little by little, and if I can gain control of some of the less savory population then maybe I can save it. There's a government seat coming up in two years. I intend to have myself in a position to take it." His personality is... civil. I hate him for that, for thinking his methods are any better than my master's. Wresting control is a gift reserved for the strong, not the talkers and the politicians. I feel a sneer slip through my façade, but fortunately he is taking another drink at the time, draining his glass.

"You would look so wonderful on the vids. You're just so charismatic..." I say, watching him smile at Jewel's innocent view on life. It seems to appeal to him, because he lightly takes my undrunk glass from my hand, setting the pair on the nearby counter as Jewel backs away from his intense gaze slightly. My back hits the bar after only a small step or so, and he reaches up to cup my face in one well-muscled palm. From this distance, his cologne is nearly stifling, though it's preferable to the smell of unwashed body that had come off my second victim by a long shot.

"And you are very beautiful, my dear. Your naiveté is refreshing... you almost glow with it." I stifle the urge to yawn, feigning a look of overwhelmed adoration as he watches me, his other hand reaching up to stroke my dyed locks. "Your eyes, they're so arresting... a most stunning blue..."

Something in his face changes, something akin to lust, and all I can think is, Finally... If he hurries the hell up I might have time to get in at least one fucking set of katas before crashing...

He grabs my hair, spinning me until he has an arm around my throat, the hand that had cupped my face instead gripped into a fist.

Wow, didn't realize he was into the kinky shit. Finch owes me extra for this one.

Still, I don't blow my cover, moving against him as if I'm enjoying the game until I hear the venom in his voice when he speaks again.

Complacency will get you killed. That was the lesson I learned that day.

"You little bitch..." He is strong, but only holds me subdued, so I don't respond yet. I only observe as best I can with his chest pressed against me, noting his breathing is growing more rapid. Even more sickening is the fact that his dick is pressed against me, becoming more insistent as he grips my throat tighter.

Really owes me extra when I get back... like, 'new stilettos' extra.

"You're Finch's whore, aren't you? What are they calling you now?" He tightens his arm a little more, shaking me as he speaks, and I act as if he's already cutting off my air supply. I still have the advantage. He wants information. I just want to smell his blood as it spills from him. I pretend to gasp harshly, and I'm not sure if his dick got harder because of my pain or because of his hand, working its way up my skirt as he holds me. He hisses across my ear.

"The Red Widow... that was it. I should thank you. It's been a while since I've been able to do what I want to a little cunt like you." His hand is at my underwear now, and I jump slightly as his greasy hands try to make their way into territory I now have no intention of letting him touch. He laughs, gripping me tighter so I can't pull away. "I'm going to kill you, you little slut, and fuck you while I'm doing it. Give you a whole new definition for dual penetration..." He trails off as he starts to move for one his many displays. Then, as he's distracted, I make my move.

Blurring into motion, I whirl away, breaking his hold easily at its weakest point. He abandons his attempts to get a weapon, lunging after me; grasps at my waist ineffectually, due to the very material that he had so admired earlier. He likes it because it has the appearance of lace; I like it because it's smooth as silk. His movements are sloppy, jerky, and he jumps forward to try to catch me. I sneer at his fumbling attempts at close-quarters combat, glad to finally be able to respond as I really want to.

Dodging, I mount him from behind in a wicked pantomime of a child's piggyback, whispering, "Now who's fucked, asshole?" He freezes at the stilettos pressed into his throat on each side as I sit easily perched. "This little game you've been playing with Charleston? Well, I have a message from Finch." Hashim's body is still, but releases some of his tension at my words. I'm not sure why, don't really care, but I can only assume he believes Finch's words are all I'm supposed to deliver.

"What's his message, Widow?"

I don't answer, only plunge the stilettos into his neck from either side, puncturing his carotid artery with well-trained precision. My feet drop to the floor only a second before the body does, still twitching involuntarily as he gasps out his last few breaths. The crimson wave of arterial spray splashes everywhere, and I revel in the hot scent for a moment before getting back to business. Casually, I lean down to wipe my weapons on his robe, whispering seductively in his ear as I do so.

"The message?" I move, kneeling so I can look him in the eye, give myself the pleasure of watching the life drain from his body. I see my own maniacal grin reflected in his pupils, and it makes me want to laugh at the beauty of it, saying "The message is 'You lose, Hashim'" as the last shuddering breath flies from his lungs.


#####


"Shepard? You put my sister's safety on hold to deal with some guy trying to take over a bar?" Miranda asked in exasperation, staring at Shepard in disbelief.

"No," Teandra responded, "I put your mission on hold to deal with Conrad Verner. Guy is a nuisance, but he's my nuisance, dammit, and he's always been a little trigger happy and easily duped."

"You're stalling, Shepard. You not only delayed with that, but also with that quarian indentured servant, then took the time to eavesdrop on some bachelor party..."

"That party was hilarious, though you're really going to have to explain this custom sometime, Shepard," I teased. "It seems to be one of humanity's more interesting ones."

"I'll do you one better. You ever get married, I'll throw you one. Might even jump out of a cake for you."

An over-exaggerated sigh caught our attention, causing both of us to turn to Miranda. We were standing at the bottom of the stairs outside the door to Eternity, and I could tell from the look Teandra shot her that the redhead had finally had enough.

"Lawson, I strongly suggest you either get used to our banter, or learn to hide your reactions better. Do you really want us making fun of your genetically-perfect ass instead of everything else?" Shepard asked, and while there was irritation in her voice, there was also curiosity.

She's testing her, I thought. Wonder if Miranda passes?

"Sarcasm I can handle," the XO replied with no vehemence, but with a definite sense of urgency. "What I can't handle is you deciding these little errands are more important than Oriana."

Shepard stopped for a second, gauging Miranda before finally responding quietly, "Miranda, you do realize I've put your little 'errand' before everyone else's on the ship, right? We came to Illium first, instead of going to get Tali, because I was worried about your family. The only reason I even went to pick up our assassin before taking care of this is because I wanted time for EDI to observe him without us present." She paused, considering her next words, before continuing, "As to taking care of all these little problems in the bar, did it ever occur to you that any one of them could be working for your father? Or that making good with the owner and the bartender might garner us information? Specifically, if there have been inquiries into your sister's whereabouts?"

"Of course I did," Miranda answered, "I just honestly didn't think it would occur to you."

Shepard sighed, "Okay, look, we don't have time to talk about this here. Suffice it to say that just because you know my life story doesn't mean you know me. If you did, you would know that when it comes to family, everything gets dropped to deal with it. You're just damn lucky I don't believe Tali's in real danger, because that woman is like a sister to both myself and Vakarian." I crossed my arms, nodding in agreement as Teandra continued, "So please, erase your preconceptions, get your shit together, and maybe you and I can get this job done without any more confrontation. Okay?"

The frown fell from the biotic, to replaced by a look of consideration. "You really do want to look out for her, don't you?"

"Yes. So once we get inside, why don't you go meet your contact while I finish chatting up the bartender? Find out where we need to be to oversee the transfer of Oriana's family."

Miranda tilted her head, "Okay. I'll do that. Just please hurry, Shepard," she finished.

"I never do anything less," Teandra said as she turned away, moving back up the staircase with a purpose.

Our trio split off once we were inside, the commander and I approaching the bar while Miranda made good on Shepard's order. The matriarch seemed to amuse Shepard, if nothing else.

"Hey Aethyta, headbutt any krogan lately?"

"Nah, too busy working the blue off my ass, babe. Can I get you anything? No sex. I just cleaned the bar."

I couldn't resist. I really couldn't, but I had only just opened my mouth when Shepard shot over her shoulder, "If I even think I hear the words 'chick' or 't-shirt' out of you, I'm giving you the same treatment Kaidan got, ben'jee."

"What, before Ilos? I'm game." She shot me a look, causing me to throw my hands up placatingly.

"Fine, I'll be quiet while you put on your 'females-like-me blouse.'" I then proceeded to dodge as she tried to land a fist playfully on my chestplate.

"Wow, babe, you two should have a talk with that pair over there," the matriarch inserted, pointing to an otherwise indistinguishable turian and quarian.

"They weren't asking about that girl I mentioned, were they?" Shepard said, once again serious as she slid a credit chit of some denomination or another onto the bar. Aethyta pocketed it silently, saying, "Nope, but if there was ever duo that needed divine intervention, it's those two. They're in here seems like everyday, and it only takes five seconds listening to the two of them to figure out what they're all about." She grabbed a rag, wiping at the bar absently as she continued to speak, only occasionally stopping to make some drink or other for customers that wandered up.

"Well, you've got my messaging address along with that tip. Run across anything interesting, there's more in it for you."

"You got it, babe."

"Hey, I spent time as a bartender once, for a cover. Your work's even more dangerous than mine."

"You got that right. Watch yourself out there, anyway." We walked away a few steps, letting the matriarch get back to her customers. Teandra shot me a glance, both eyebrows half-raised, muttering, "Mingle and observe?"

I nodded, settling on a topic of conversation as we made our way to the corner across from where Miranda was getting her contact's attention. We sat caddy-corner, my arm laid casually behind her as if we were just a regular couple of bar-goers as I started talking, watching the bar's occupants all the while. "A bartender, Shep? Really?"

"Hey, you don't have to drink to do it. It's not much different that running intel, actually. Learn your customers likes and dislikes, then take advantage of them to rob them blind."

"Was everything about your childhood about running some game, Shepard? I've had crime bosses I've arrested with less extreme pasts than you."

"Yep, just about. But only after I was ten. Before that, life was almost happy, I'll have you know." She leaned in, laying her head on my chest as if we were exchanging sweet nothings instead of discussing murder and robbery.

"I don't think anyone would call living in some run-down building while you pick people's pockets to survive normal, Teandra."

"Who said anything about 'normal'? I said 'happy.' And you know what? Jackson and Elayne were better parents than most 'normal' parents I've known. We only stole enough to survive, never anything more. We were a family."

"Jackson was a good man," I said, trying not to show my surprise at her willingness to be so close. It's for the cover. Keep that in mind. Couples draw less attention.

"I wish you could have met them, Garrus. Especially him. I think you two would have gotten along like old friends." She looked at me from her new position, face lighting up at the mention of her parents' names. "They were probably two of the few people in my life that were in it just because they wanted to be. No... games. No price for their affection." She sighed happily, snuggling in a little further as I lay the arm that was behind her across her shoulders and down her side in an attempt to cement our cover even more. Ri-ight.

"And now, I've got one more person I can say that about, huh?"

"You know it, little Spectre." We sat there for a second, silence ensuing, until the words of a pair of nearby customers started to drift over us.

"You deserve someone that respects you," the turian half of the pair Aethyta had indicated earlier said. "Somebody who's going to treat you right."

"Wow, how many of those speeches have I heard in my lifetime," Shepard snorted. "Hell, how many have I given? People suck sometimes."

"Oh, I think I'm going to just stop dating for a while," the quarian returned, almost speaking before the turian finished his statement.

"No, don't do that, he said forcefully, "don't let some human spoil you."

She didn't seem to hear the poor guy, though, only rambling on over his words. "It's always the same thing. 'Ooh, she could get sick. She's vulnerable. I wonder what she looks like under the helmet.'"

"You'll find someone who cares about you for who you are," he responded "Someone who's food you can eat, even."

Shepard and I shared a look of pure amusement at that last statement, doing our very best not to bust out laughing. Her face scrunched up, taking on a slightly red tint as she tried not to betray our listening ears.

"Verna. Is she that oblivious?"

"Apparently. Makes me sad, truth be told... poor guy's in the dreaded friend zone."

In a rush, as if trying to get the words out before he could change his mind, the turian went on, "If you're hunting for things to do, maybe after work we could catch a vid or something."

"Oh, that's sweet, but I'm okay," she replied, still overlooking the obvious. "A little dry spell isn't going to kill me."

"We could watch "Fleet and Flotilla," he went on as if she hadn't spoken, probably an effect of nerves. "It got awards for its portrayal of, um, turian-quarian relationships."

"Wow. I thought my lines were good..." I said.

Shepard snorted. "Always keep me seduced, tough guy... wonder what she's going to do to deflect him?"

"Deflect him?"

"Yeah. She's either really stupid, and he could do better, or she's completely aware of the affect she's having, and had better get his attention derailed before the friendship falls apart."

"If worst comes to worst, I did have that nerve-stimulation program built into my suit."

"And I hear that the love scenes... what?"

"Oooh, that was evil, girl. You never do that to a guy friend. Not unless you plan on having a few more 'benefits' added to your 'friendship.'"

"What, talk about sex?" I quipped, "You do that all the time."

"No, masturbation, you dolt," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "That totally crosses the line."

"Oh, yeah. Standard equipment for any responsible adult. Here, let me fire it up..." the quarian continued.

"...and that is the equivalent of crossing that line so you can screw the guy's best friend on the other side... while they watch. Damn, girl."

"Wow, did she just..." I asked, at a loss for words.

"Yeah, and she proved my point," Shepard laughed. "Now, see? If he would just step his efforts up a little bit, it might be him instead of some program."

Huffing, I said, "Step his efforts up? He's all but throwing himself at her now."

"True, but some girls aren't that subtle," she said. "Sometimes, you've just got to come out and say it." Her eyes were trying for innocent, and failing.

And you bet your ass I took the bait.

"Oh, really now? So what, exactly, would a guy have to do to make sure you knew you had his full attention?"

"Oh, I don't know... let me think. Physical touch is a good start. Gets a girls hormones going."

"Okay," I said, running a talon up and down her side. "Let say he's got that covered. What else?" She giggled slightly before regaining her composure.

"Careful, there. I'm freaking uber-ticklish."

"Ticklish?" I asked, confused. "Not sure that translated."

She stopped for a minute, trying to figure out how to explain. "It's kind of like... bugs crawling across your skin, or a sort of itch, but in a weirdly happy way. It makes you laugh when someone touches you in a sensitive spot, and releases bonding endorphins..." I continued to look at her strangely, so she said, "Here, take your glove off a minute."

I did so, asking, "Why?" as she grabbed my hand, grinning mildly.

"Don't even know if turians have the ability to be ticklish; but if you are, your palms will be the easiest to access right now." She held my hand up, tracing lightly along the softer skin with her fingernails for a moment. I did feel something, a slight tracery of strangeness, but nothing like what she was describing. I shook my head.

"Oh well," she said, not relinquishing my hand. "Suffice it to say that it's somewhere between fun and annoying. So tread lightly when in a ticklish spot, or you might get punched..." I nodded, trying to look serious, and probably failing miserably.

Still tracing lightly across my palm, she went on, "As to what else you need to do to let her know you're interested... What is she passionate about? Who does she admire? What excites her? These are all questions that tell you about who she is... They also make gift giving a breeze."

"Gift giving, huh?"

"Always a plus. The phrase 'an unexpected gift at an unexpected time' comes to mind."

"What movie?"

"Finding Forrester."

"Not one I'm familiar with, and right now I'm much more interested in the other conversation. So... what's the rest? There's got to be more to it than that."

"Well, there's the most obvious thing," she said, looking up at me with pupils that had expanded to two black holes within the blue of her eyes, in spite of the bright lighting of the bar. "Talk to her about it. That's usually the biggest thing that every guy seems to overlook."

"So that's all it takes?" I said, going for a tone of disbelief. "Somehow, I find that difficult to believe. Some girls aren't that easy to get through to." She smiled at my words, and suddenly the game became a little more serious than either of us had probably intended. Neither of us was watching the bar anymore, our focus on each other when she finally responded

"You just might be surprised, Garrus. Even the toughest girls have a weak spot somewhere."

Vaguely, in the background, I heard a commotion going on, but I found myself completely arrested by her eyes in a way that I could honestly say I never had before... except perhaps on the sparring mat. When it came to this girl, the things she was passionate about came to a very long list, and very similar to my own... including a love of danger, and a penchant for breaking all the rules. Looking at her, at that moment, it became very apparent that there seemed to be one more rule that she was intending to break.

And that was just fine by me.

The commotion, which had been background noise before, grew louder, and both out gazes snapped over to the room where Miranda was supposed to be meeting her contact. The biotic exited a moment later, barely-schooled panic on her face. We both jumped to our feet, Shepard crossing the few steps easily as Miranda started speaking.

"It's Oriana. She may have been compromised. We need to go, now."

"Then why are we here talking?" I said, already knowing how Shepard felt about the matter. Shepard grabbed my hand, replacing my glove with deliberate movements as she shot me a look that made it very clear our discussion wasn't over.

"Let's move," she said, and our life fell back into its cycle of repetition as the next disaster fell into our laps.

Not that I would have ever had it any other way.


"Goddamn, another one..." Shepard announced as she, Thane, and I exited the shuttle pick up our Justicar. "What is with the fucking vigilantes lately?" She stopped at a glare from me, muttering, "Uh, sorry Garrus. Forgot who I was talking to..."

I crossed my arms, saying, "And I was better at it than anyone else we've picked up so far. One more person isn't going to threaten my title."

"Not even a light-side Jedi? Ooh, that reminds me. Joker DID find a version of Star Wars, but I'm holding out for him to find the 'Han-shot-first' version. I think you, of all people, will like that one better." She smirked as if the joke were hilarious, and I recognized it as the same one she'd given me while calling Predator a misunderstood turian. As such, I ignored it in favor of taking in our surroundings.

Crime scenes have an... atmosphere to them. Like a smell, or a taste to the air. A puzzle waiting to be solved, a criminal brought forth to face his misdeeds as a result of having the right eye to decipher the clues. I never would admit it to anybody, but spirits I missed it. The thrill of the chase, the satisfaction of time well spent when you finally slapped the cuffs on the person responsible for it all... it called to me.

I may have hated the red tape that hobbled me from doing my job, but the cases themselves were a whole different story. Having the authority to help people's lives become a little brighter, a little safer, had never ceased to fill some empty part of me with pride. Maybe it's one of the things I got from my father, much as I hated to admit it. Almost as much as I hated admitting how many times I'd solved a case, only to wait fruitlessly for some message from him letting me know how well I'd done.

Fortunately, I'd outgrown that tendency.

We made our way into the nearby converted base of operations, and I let Shepard watch our intended detective while I took in the background chatter instead. The call lines were in full operation, it seemed, since snippets of the conversations on this end kept drifting my way.

"So you say you say a quarian male leaving the scene... what's your name again, sir, for the reward? Jon Grissom..." the man's voice took on a wary tone, closely followed a muttered and exaggerated, "Uh, yes sir. I'll be sure to mail that check ASAP ."

And... "No, ma'am. The situation is under control. The Justicar will not be staying for an extended period of time on Illium... oh, I see. Yes, ma'am. I'll be sure to pass her the message."

Or the detective that was going on in deadpan... "Yes, sir. I appreciate the offer. No, I must advise you that this call is being monitored and recorded, and that threatening a public figure with bodily harm is a felony offense... Hello?"

I couldn't help but snort, remembering. Now, those days I don't miss: Playing desk jockey to the crazies. Forcefully, I brought my attention back to Shepard and the present conversation.

"My bosses want me to detain her," the detective, Anaya, was telling the commander. Detaining a Justicar... not a good ending, no matter how you play it. Shepard seemed to agree.

"Let me get this straight: Your superiors are sending you to certain death for no good reason? You have a right to disobey."

I guffawed, still managing to say without missing a beat, "Wait, we can disobey suicidal orders? Why wasn't I told?" I never would have expected it, but our quiet and serious drell companion was quick to join in on the good-natured ribbing.

"That's about twice a day," he commented. I shot him a look of confusion, considering his short time with the crew.

"Words gets around," he said, simply.

"What, the ship?"

"No. The galaxy."

We both looked back to Shepard at a thumping sound, caused by the impact of Teandra's head against the officer's desk. "That's it, I'm going solo from now on," she said in a muffled tone from her new position. "I can't deal with this pressure anymore."

"I do not believe that solo is the best way to deal with pressure, Commander Shepard," Thane intoned, still in a complete deadpan.

The second thump, I was proud to say, was even louder than the first one.