-Garrus-
When the Normandy arrives at the Citadel, most of the crew are quick to leave the ship to take full advantage of the twenty-four hour leave Jane had granted them. The halls clear at an unnatural speed that's all too typical for military vessels filled with soldiers often sent on missions as tasking as the one they find themselves undertaking.
It is with the assurance of being completely alone that Garrus makes his way to the showers, the sweet voice of his wife singing with the pattering of water leading his footsteps. He slips into the steamy room and softly chuckles of the sight of her, hips swaying softly as she lathers that strange bubbly substance into her hair and lips belting some human song he remembers her often singing in their shower at home.
He leans against the opposite wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "You definitely seem to be enjoying yourself." She squints open one eye with a soft smile before squeezing it back shut and tipping her head into the flow of water. "Though, I'm pretty sure our shower at home still works."
She snorts, the motion doing something spectacular with her breasts that really makes him wish they were home, and finishes up washing the soap from her hair, giving her the chance to finally look to him. "I could, but I have an Asari diplomat to talk to and then I'd like to spend some quality time with my husband."
"I still don't see the problem with our shower." She shuts off the shower and he grabs what he assumes is her towel from the bench between them. He brushes off her hands when she reaches for it, taking the task of drying her into his own hands. "But I guess you getting this over with is for the best because I have a surprise for you."
She raises a brow towards him and he can't help the sly smirk to his mandible as he shakes his head. "I'm afraid you aren't going to get me to tell you." He hands her the towel and takes her brush, running it through her wet hair to pull out the tangles. "Consider this a payback for dragging me all over the galaxy and making me take up the slack on the battlefield."
She scoffs in mock hurt and takes the brush to pull her hair up into a loose shape of what she calls a 'ponytail'. "Listen you… You wanted to come along, so I don't even want to hear anything about my 'dragging you all over the galaxy' and you clearly have your math wrong." She tosses her brush aside and moves to her clothes. "I clearly remember me being ahead on kill count."
Garrus rolls his eyes, the movement not seen as she turns to get dressed. She bends over to step into her underwear and he slaps her ass cheek, mandible flicking in a hard smirk at the high sound of her startled yelp. Without anything in arm's reach to cause any real damage, she throws a shirt back at him, the soft fabric clinging slightly to his twitching mandibles as he laughs.
"God, you're such an ass." She scolds, but the mirth in her voice is obvious enough that he doesn't really need to see the way she tightens her lips to hold back the big smile as she's pulling on her bra. "I don't know how Turians do it, but you're supposed to be nice to someone when their birthday comes around."
He pulls the shirt from his head and smiles. "Then I guess it's good that that wasn't your only present."
Turians don't do much for birthdays and when he and Jane had spoken of customs and cultural differences, she had admitted that she wasn't even that privy to human custom. It's true, he had felt somewhat bad at the look in her eyes when she had explained that birthdays tended to involve a celebration of family and friends and, being that she didn't really have that as a child, she didn't really get to experience it personally.
He had made a silent plan then, many months ago, that when her birthday came, he would try to embrace the concept enough to show her a celebration that could befit a human birthday. And if it's wrong, odds are neither of us will really be able to tell.
Jane blinks once in silent thought before her brows twist in confusion. "Garrus, that was a joke." She smiles and shrugs dismissively while pulling her pants up. "I'm actually kind of afraid of any 'presents' that comes from a guy whose species' closest thing to a birthday present is a branding."
He growls with frustration and pulls her shirt over her head, letting it hang around her neck until she frees her hands to pull it over herself. "Not the same thing, Jane, and you know it." She smiles and pulls her arms through her sleeves. "Are colony markings are not brands. They're-"
She nods quickly with a warm smile. "I know, I know." Her soft hand raises, her little fingers running over the cobalt paint across his plates, and he purrs deep in his chest as he presses into her touch. "An acid takes off the first layer of plate and then you paint the more porous layer below so that it becomes mostly permanent as the top layer heals back."
With a low rumble, he takes her hand and lays a soft nip at her fingertips, the closest to a human kiss, before releasing her. "You got the basics."
"You think I don't listen?" She huffs slightly and he chuckles at her mock insult.
He takes her clothes and motions her out. "It wouldn't be the first time," he jokes and laughs at the scoff of her reaction, a warm smile coming to his plates as she still takes his hand with hers as they walk to her room.
They get their things for the night packed and head out of the ship with no trouble, even able to stand particularly close as they traversed the decks. Only when they came upon the bridge did they have to pretend again, as the pilot seemed to be permanently attached to his seat, and remain the façade as they traveled through the Academy.
Luckily for him, the distance they had to hold in public wasn't nearly as unbearable as it had been and he knows the reason has everything to do with the fact that once they get a chance to be alone and out of the attentions of the public, they had every opportunity to be themselves. That, and the fact of his big surprise for her birthday that he's been planning since they had saved Terra Nova.
"Alright, here's the plan," Jane says as they await the elevator that rises to the Presidium, her voice pulling him out of his inner musings of later. "We'll go see what the hell this Asari wants, then we'll head home. I called into the Embassy when we were docking and pretty much figured out Udina has his head up his ass." She sighs and crosses her arms, a frown causing a little crease between her brows. "The Alliance has too many leads that they don't know which one is right for us to go after. I figure that we'll give them a bit more time to get their shit together before we're forced to look into each one and hope for the best."
She looks to him with a raised brow, as if asking his opinion, and he shrugs. "Seems like the most logical thing to do. We don't have much choice and no real lead. Either we wait for better information or we take what we got and possibly end up wasting time we could be using chasing down the real leads on Saren."
She nods as the lift slows, her posture shifting back into one of authority. "My thoughts, exactly. This transmission we got that requested our help seemed time-sensitive, so let's hope getting it done will have let the Alliance weed through our options."
They make their way to the Human Embassies and towards the upscale bar within. Sitting at a table off to the side is a single Asari in a long red dress, typical of the many diplomats within the Presidium and walking the Embassy halls. Jane must recognize her, most likely going off of something from whatever message she had received that called her here, and moves to the table, nodding at the woman when she looks up with wide and searching eyes.
Listening to the woman speak, he understands her urgency to speak with Jane. Apparently, her sister was taken hostage by slavers and, in fear, the woman had paid the ransom to see her loved one returned to safety, but she was tricked and her sister remains under imprisonment. She also speaks of the horrible possibility of now finding herself in the custody of C-Sec, the act of negotiating with what the Citadel considers terrorists a crime, one that he absolutely sees no point in, and Jane easily offers to assist.
With knowledge of the mercenary band's location in hand, his wife assures the Asari that they'll find whatever they can on her sister but in truth, he and Jane both know that the possibility of her still being alive is slim. Leaving on the woman's grateful thanks, Garrus leads out of the Embassy and towards the transit, the two more than ready to finally have a chance at some time off.
When they are situated in a cab and heading home, the silence is cut by Jane's soft chuckle. He turns to her with a raised brow, not seeing anything interesting enough to warrant such a response.
She waves his concern and puzzlement off. "It's nothing, just that…" she shifts in her seat to look more towards him, "Was that Asari- Nassana Dantius- familiar to you?" She raises a brow, seeming to be feeding him an answer, but it just leaves him more confused. "Oh, come on… Think! You can't possibly say all Asari look alike, that's racist."
Garrus shrugs. "Jane, I lived on the Citadel for most of my adult life. That's a lot of Asari walking around." The shuttle sets down and they start to climb out. "You're going to have to be more specific."
She smirks and puts a finger to her chin, her exaggeration of when she's trying to think. "Let's see… Oh, I got it." She straightens her back and puts her fists on her hips. "I was sent over here because someone said you were being suspicious." He recognizes the gruff imitation to her voice that she usually uses when she tries to imitate a man, usually someone of authority, but not the words.
When he doesn't respond, still not aware of what she's getting at, she scowls and rubs her hands over her head, disheveling some of her hair so that strands fall into her face. "Well officer, I can assure you that I my drawings aren't anything illicit-"
That, he recognizes from the first time they met. He has a split second to scowl at the obviously unflattering impression of himself she just did, but dismisses it as an instant thought comes to his mind. It couldn't be…
"There's no way that's the same woman."
Jane smiles knowingly at his response and taps a soft finger under his chin as they step into the elevator of their complex. "Now you remember. Of course it's 'little miss complaint'. I can remember people," she holds a finger to her left temple, "I'm really good with faces, you know."
Now that he thinks about it, the voice from his memory and the diplomat at the Embassy do match up, something pretty hard to fake or misinterpret for a species that's sensitive to sound like a Turian is. The thought of the coincidence is just too much, though, that it still seems impossible to believe.
She must see his doubt because the next thing he knows, Jane's arms are around his waist as she nuzzles her head against his chest. "It's fine if you want to stick your head in the sand," he looks down with a mock glare and her apparent smile widens, "but I think it's funny."
He wraps an arm around her, walking her out when the elevator doors finally open and leading her to their apartment. "Alright, I'll consider that it may be the same woman, but we need to have a little talk about that impression of yours."
"Whatever could you be talking about?" She raises a brow in silent intrigue and he chuckles.
"For one, I have never stood like that in my life." He finally takes her into his arms once their door closes them off from the rest of the world. "And two, I do not sound like that." He lifts her chin up to look into her emerald eyes, full of the laughter and happiness that he barely ever sees on the Normandy. "So I take offense."
She chuckles softly while raising up on her tip toes. "That so?" He rumbles an affirmative while pressing his forehead to hers. "Then I guess you'll just have to remind me how our first encounter went."
He purrs deeply in his chest and tilts his head, putting him in a better position near her lips. "How about we just skip to the good parts?" he asks, his voice a deep mix of harmonics as he kisses her deeply, their tongues tangling with the soft sound of her responding hum.