A/N: It's been a while, but I'm back with a slightly longer installment to make up for my absence! School's been kicking my ass (as usual), and Nyreen/Aria (Omega DLC spoilers) bit me in the feels so I got distracted for a while there. But I churned this whole thing out TODAY just for you guys so I hope you enjoy :D Warning, this is CUSTOM Shep, and custom in a BIG WAY so if that's not your cuppa, don't read this chapter. Translations are available on google, or you can PM me for a more precise interpretation (you'll understand after you read it.)

Scene: Somewhere in ME3. Garrus and Shepard decide to perform a little experiment.

"I've got a question."

Garrus looks up from his datapad. Shepard's standing in front of her dresser, peeling herself out of her BDUs for a shower. "Ask away."

"What do turians sound like without a translator?" She steps out of the uniform and carefully folds it into a perfect rectangle before storing it in a drawer. "Random question, but I'm curious."

He sets the datapad down, head cocked to one side as he watches her pull out a towel. "Like wild animals," Garrus says dryly, "Lots of growling and posturing and roaring."

That wins a throaty chuckle. "No wonder you guys need translators then."

"I'm not sure how to answer that though. We sound exactly like well, turians." He stands up then, and walks over to where she is. "I could ask the same thing about humans."

"Fair enough," Shepard replies, taking out the pins in her meticulous bun. "It depends on which language the human in question speaks. Different tones, different stresses, different accents."

"Apply that to turians, and there's your answer. We have colony-specific languages, dialects of those, Palaven-specific languages, and their dialects. There's even a Cipritine-specific dialect. It can get pretty crazy."

"Sounds like Earth," she says and turns around to face him in her underwear. With the pins out, her hair sits heavily on her shoulders, its curls matted and coiled from being confined all day. He brushes a stray lock from her forehead. "What language do you speak?"

"The Cipritine-dialect, since I'm from there. That's what most turians speak. You?"

"English and Mandarin, two of the main lingua francas on Earth. Bahasa-Indonesian too, that's less well-known." Suddenly arching an eyebrow, she tugs at the hem of his tunic. "Have you washed yet?"

His mandibles flex in amusement as he undoes the catches on his clothes. "No, but I get the message."

Garrus wants to laugh at the spark that slowly appears in her eyes. "Turn your translator off," Shepard announces.

"What—so you can have another reason to poke fun at me?"

"Don't worry, I'm doing it too." Her lips curve into a smile. "Think of it as a 'cross-species experiment.'"

He shakes his head. "As long as you stop referencing that, I'm game."

She unhooks her bra and moves for the bathroom. "We'll turn them back on after we're done showering."

"I could say something terrible and offensive, and you'd never be the wiser."

Shepard smirks and throws her standard-issue underwear at him. "I can ask EDI to translate the recording for me later."

Garrus catches it mid-air, rubbing the fabric between his talons before laying it on the couch. "Who's the terrible one now?"

Laughing, she crosses the threshold, and he sees her touch a spot right behind her ear. No turning back then. Muttering a quick prayer to himself, he turns his off as well and finishes undressing. The room is already filled with steam when he enters, with Shepard standing directly under the showerhead. She hears him and turns, raising both eyebrows. Garrus nods, taking her extended hand.

Within seconds, they're both completely soaked, and he lets out a satisfied rumble at the hot water on his skin. They don't get to do this often, in the middle of the biggest war they've ever faced, against the biggest enemy they've ever known. Between the fights and the summits and the nightmares he knows they both have at night, he'll take what little breaks he can find. Shepard looks to be in the same mindset, stretching the cricks in her neck as she reaches for the shampoo.

Garrus stops her with a hand on hers. Shaking his head, he takes the bottle, squirts a small bit on his hand, and tilts his head. Shepard smirks and leans towards him, accepting the gesture. He rubs the liquid into a lather and carefully threads his talons through her hair, working tiny circles into her scalp, just like how she does it if his memory serves correctly. Relief and triumph well up inside him when she sighs, shoulders slumping in contentment.

"Good?" he asks. Her body freezes under his hands, but then immediately relaxes. Shepard's eyes searches his, wide-eyed and curious. He pauses his ministrations, waits a second, then starts again. "Good?" he repeats.

It clicks on her face. She smiles with bubbles and his hands in her hair. "不 要 停."She mimes his earlier motions, making a pleased noise (that one, he recognizes.) Garrus keeps going. "很 舒," she murmurs, closing her eyes.

The words she says, whatever they are, rise and fall with a discernible rhythm. Shepard sounds like she's singing. Her voice, normally deep and husky when filtered through his translator, actually comes out higher in her natural register, as if there's always a song on the tip of her tongue. Not for the first time, Garrus wonders what he sounds like to her. Once her hair has been sufficiently shampooed, he gently nudges her under the water. He works patiently, washing over every dark lock as she watches him. It occurs to him then that he can say anything he wants.

"I like your hair," Garrus says abruptly. "You look…different with it down. A good different." He swallows down a nervous laugh as Shepard hums an encouraging noise, drawing her hands around his waist. "Figures I'd fumble this even without the threat of a translator. It's hard sometimes, knowing what to say to you."

She shrugs, smiling like she understands, and pulls him closer. "Enam bulan adalah waktu yang lama. Cupping his face, she says, " 裡. 我 對 你 念 念 不 忘."

He can tell then that she's switching back and forth between the languages she'd mentioned. There's the lyrical voice from before, and something new—harsher, with a different beat, but still in that same soft-spoken tone he'll always associate with Shepard. From the expression on her face, whatever's being said is more honest than usual. Garrus tucks her head under his chin, crooning low in his throat. "I'm glad I met you. When this war is over…we should talk. Long-term plans."

"跟你在一起的時候好開心," Shepard continues, muffled by the water and his cowl.

"I wonder how you feel about kids."

"Aku harap kamu tahu bahwa—"

"Or just about making a life together—"

"Kamu buah hati saya—"

"Because I want that, with you. More than anything."

"疼你," she replies, maybe in agreement, maybe in something else entirely, but it doesn't matter. They stay like that under the showerhead for a little while longer, pretending that they're somewhere warm and sunny, until her skin wrinkles, and they release twin sighs as Shepard turns off the water while Garrus grabs the towel from its hook.

They dry each other in silence, her hair fluffing up to his secret delight. After slipping into a tank top, Shepard taps the translator back on, and Garrus follows suit. "So," she begins slowly, "That was interesting."

"Very," he agrees. "How did I uh, sound to you?"

She takes a second to bite her lip before answering, "Rumbly. But strangely soothing. What about me?"

"Like you were singing."

"Hah—was it as good as my dancing?"

"Ah, no comment." He pulls a clean tunic over his head. "Aren't you going to ask what I said?"

"Are you?"

He truly considers it for a moment. "Nah," Garrus says finally. "Besides, it's nothing you don't know already."

Shepard nods wordlessly and heads for her console, brushing fingers with him as she walks past. Impulsively, he catches her wrist. "I won't die from embarrassment if you decide to listen to the recording later."

She smiles. "We'll listen together."