"I've just figured out something," Shepard said.
"Oh?" Garrus said politely, but without pausing in the adjustments he was making to the assault rifle he held in his lap.
Shepard was too distracted to notice his distraction. "Something's been bugging me since Horizon," she continued almost wistfully, looking rather like she had that time she'd accidentally been caught up in Wrex's biotic charge across the battlefield
Garrus' hands twitched. He pulled them hastily away from the assault rifle, but he didn't think firearms safety was the reason he could feel his heart tied up and beating in his gullet.
"One of us should have punched Kaidan?" he suggested, striving to sound off-hand. Weirdly enough, he'd been willing, even eager to discuss that meeting at the time. In fact, he'd wanted-needed-to express his outrage, his disgust, his indignation, and his... support... so badly that it had been hard to delay speaking until they didn't have an audience. But... having gotten that off his chest, so to speak, he found he wasn't anxious to revisit the subject.
He'd thought it was done and debriefed. Over. And he'd liked it that way.
"Nah. I knew that at the time," Shepard returned flippantly. "But it wouldn't have done any good," she added ruefully, shaking her head. "Some people are too thick to beat sense into... although... you do have one hell of a right hook." She smirked at him, her eyes sparking with mischief and something much... warmer.
The knot in his gizzard began dissolving into a flutter quite a bit lower. But he had to be imagining that. He was just so damned nervous.
"Sure you don't want me to hunt him down?" He meant the words to be teasing, but part of him wanted to do it, and not just to make her feel better.
Shepard snorted. "Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but we sort of have a galaxy to save here, Garrus."
Garrus groaned. "Don't remind me."
"Oh. Right." Shepard said grimly. "Like I was saying... I had a nagging feeling that there was something about that mission on Horizon something I'd missed or forgotten... but I've suddenly realized... it wasn't that. The collectors reminded me...""
Either Normandy was experiencing some sort of troubling air circulation problem or the sudden loss of Shepard's playful humor made the room feel ten degrees colder. Garrus felt all the plates on his body tighten. "Of rachni?" he asked, struggling for flippancy.
Shepard gave him a very odd look.
"What? You can't tell me the Collectors don't look like bugs to you."
Shepard coughed. "Well, okay, maybe a little... but... no, that wasn't... Saren," she said suddenly and loudly.
Garrus felt his mandibles flutter in an expression of surprise very much in keeping with that strange gesture humans called blinking. "Well..." he drawled, "Saren was definitely too... what was the expression?... too thick to have sense beaten into him, if that's what you mean."
Shepard laughed and nudged him just above his waist with her elbow. Garrus was wearing armor, but it didn't seem to prevent her touch from vibrating through his plates like a shockwave. He managed not to twitch in reaction, but he couldn't quite prevent himself from leaning toward her like a large tropical flower, listing toward the warmth of the sun.
"I don't know," she teased, "he saw reason in the end."
"And denied us the satisfaction of shooting him."
"True. Selfish to the end-"
"Like-"
"Like I was saying," Shepard said, spearing him with a look that was considerably less displeased than he'd expected... a look, in fact, that seemed almost amused, "the end wasn't the end. Remember Garrus? Saren shot himself and then..."
"He was dead," Garrus said flatly, but not without humor. It was an friendly argument they'd had over many drinks in many bars in the weeks following the battle. Just like old times.
"And then he was shooting at us." Shepard repeated her usual line. "And behaving in a decidedly odd manner to boot. For one thing, he had that weird blue glow... for another, he kept hopping around like a geth ghost. Damn those things were annoying."
"So was Saren."
"Singing to the choir, Vakarin. But that wasn't Saren. It was Sovereign."
"Yeah, yeah. Sovereign had been controlling Saren for a long time at the point, best we can figure, so it's really all just-"
"Xeno-lingustics?" Shepard suggested, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, yeah. Basically. Semantics."
"Maybe," Shepard allowed. "But, Garrus, think about it... that voice on Horizon. The one that kept shouting bizarre things at us the whole time."
"Us? Pretty sure it was talking to you, Shepard," Garrus retorted, then wished he hadn't. He didn't like to think of her being in the line of fire without him. She could take care of herself... and him into the bargain. She always could. But... she shouldn't have to. She'd earned some rest and relaxation.
"Maybe. But it was shooting at us. Remember?"
Garrus stared at her, but before he could even begin to think she wasn't making much sense to him, the comparison clicked into clarity like a well-timed sniper shot. "Assuming direct control... The ship. That ship... you think it's a reaper?"
"Well, yeah..." Shepard looked mildly startled at the idea. "I mean... probably?"
Garrus lowered his head and gave her a look from under his crest plates.
She gave him a brief, sharp chuckle and a shrug in response. "I was more interested in the direct control itself... Garrus... when I... while I was gone..." she took snorted, took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and said flatly, "when I died."
Garrus emitted an involuntary squawk of protest, his assault rifle clattering to the floor and bouncing off his feet. "Spirits, Shepard, I thought we decided we didn't need to talk about that?"
Shepard stood, bent, retrieved his forgotten rifle and put it gingerly on the table. Eventually, she faced him squarely and continued, "Cerberus only managed to resurrect me-" she stopped with a breathless laugh and rubbed at her shoulder and the back of her neck. " Jesus, messiah complex anyone?- I mean... Cerberus had to use a lot of cybernetics and biosynthetics to... bring me back."
"Listen, Shepard..." Garrus reached out and caught her hand- cool and soft and light- where it rested on his assault rifle, his three talons easily enveloping her narrow palm. "Does it matter? They did what they had to do... And I- for one- am damn grateful for it." He stared at their joined hands as he spoke. The contrast was... striking. He knew humans were red-blooded, but her veins traced lines beneath her flesh, lines just as blue and bold as his markings. Fascinated, Garrus reached out and traced one lightly, delicately, with the very tip of a talon, careful not to pierce the tender flesh.
Shepard drew air in through her teeth, a faint but definite sound, sharp as a hiss. Garrus froze, turning his eyes to her face, afraid of what he would see... anger, fear, disgust... but her eyes were lowered, hidden by the thick dark fringe that framed them, but seemingly fixed on their joined hands, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed... she looked just as soft as her skin and strangely appealing.
They stood like that for a long time... and for hardly any time at all.
"They got the job done," Shepard breathed at last. "And... you heard what I told Liara, didn't you? If it gives me the chance to finish what I started, I don't regret it. Not now. Not ever. Hell, Garrus, just this... time with you is... more than I could have asked."
Garrus was beginning to feel that fluttering again, and no wonder.
They had to be crazy, speaking to one another like this... okay, they'd never been a typical commander and her subordinate... but even as friends, this conversation, well, it was... awkward, confusing, odd... and one of the happiest moments in his life.
He could think of three times he had been happier... and there was Shepard, standing at the center of all three. Big surprise. He supposed that even if that didn't worry him, the thought of her realizing it should, but it didn't. He was pretty sure she knew. For that matter, maybe it was just his vanity, but he kind of suspected he might be standing at the middle of most her happiest memories, too.
But thinking about that just made the fluttering that much worse.
"Then..."
"Cybernetics," Shepard repeated and shivered. "Remind you of anyone?"
"Ummm... every biotic living?"
Shepard laughed, but the sound was cold and bitter. Now that, that reminded him of Horizon, or right after. "Biosynthetic fusion."
"Shit. Saren-"
"Was ranting about all that stuff just before he went all blue and batty." Shepard agreed.
"Shepard... you don't honestly think... Cerberus rigged you up so you could be overtaken as the indoctrinated servant of a Reaper... do you?"
"Whether or not Cerberus meant to make it possible..." Shepard murmured, "I'm still on the fence over that one."
"What fence?"
"Oh, right. Xeno-linguistics. I mean, I don't know if Cerberus had any idea they were making me more vulnerable to indoctrination. Assuming they didn't spend trillions of credits to bring me back just to kill me or destroy humanity- which would sort of be the opposite of their mission statement- probably not."
"Well, there you go. And given how obsessed that voice seemed to be, if whatever it was could have assumed control, it would have. So-" Garrus could hear the shrill edge to his voice and hoped like hell she couldn't.
"I'd love to believe that, Garrus," Shepard said dully, "but indoctrination happens cumulatively over time, remember? Just because it didn't reach critical mass the first time doesn't meant it won't the next time, or the time after that."
"Well, the only way we'll know about that is if it happens, right? And if it happens, we'll deal with it then, Shepard. Remember what you told me about Saren? When I asked you what you would do if you caught and the Council tried to run interference?"
Shepard nodded. "I told you I'd decide what to do when it happened. It's-"
"-a mistake to make a plan of action without all the available information." Garrus finished firmly.
"I'm not asking you to make any decisions, Garrus," Shepard murmured gently, sounding almost apologetic. "But... if it happens... I need to know... promise me you'll take me down."
"Shepard..."
"One shot, one kill."
"I'm not the only sniper on this ship, Shepard! Why not ask the assassin? Or the mercenary? Hell, I'm sure the convict would be more than happy to pull you into pieces. Some days, I bet Miranda would fight her for the privilege! So would Mordin if you keep bringing up the genophage!"
Shepard laughed, her free hand coming up to push his shoulder. "Asking Jack to kill me is probably the most fail-proof route to ensure she doesn't, you know."
Garrus snorted. He'd learned that from the best. He was just starting to take a surreptuous breath of relief when Shepard added, "But most of the rest might be reliable enough."
"Well, there you go," Garrus said when he'd stopped sputtering. "One squad meeting away from assisted suicide, how nice."
"First of all, making this little... complication... common knowledge could seriously impair morale. Not exactly a sound tactical procedure, particularly when approaching a suicide mission."
"Yeah, okay, so maybe considering something that could get you killed isn't the same as wanting to get killed-"
"Exactly," Shepard said adamantly. "And thank you, very much for noticing. I'm not exactly anxious to get myself killed- again-"
"Could have fooled me." The anger in the words made her raise her eyebrows. He raised his free hand in some slight movement toward a turian shrug, then, as if to say he'd changed his mind, and wasn't about to apologize, reached up touched her hand on his shoulder instead.
"Secondly, you have a point about Thane. I will ask him."
"Well, if you have him, I guess you won't be needing me," Garrus said, sharply. He pulled his hands away from hers and reached for the assault rifle.
Shepard seized the rifle- not exactly the most amazing feat she'd ever performed as she'd already been touching it- and held it up behind her head.
"Thirdly- even though I will ask Thane, he doesn't accompany me that often. There's a good chance he'll be shipside when the shit hits the fan. I need you, Garrus. I trust you. You're the one I want on my six. Now. Tomorrow. Next week. Next year. Always. For the rest of my life."
He couldn't help it, not quite. He'd been around human marines too damn long... or maybe the culprit was Wrex? Either way, even as he took one long stride into her personal space, his hand extended to snatch his gun out of her hand, his eyes went for her six like they'd been given an engraved invite.
Turian women were like their men- sharp angles, crisp and precise. Delineated.
A lot of females, human and asari, even- no, especially, quarian- had pronounced curves at their hips that left him feeling a bit dizzy and disoriented.
Shepard... Shepard was no turian, but her curves were smooth and gradual. Subtle. Understated. Simple, spare. Elegant.
Dear spirits, her ass looked like the rise of a planet limned against space... which was actually one of the most inexplicably breath-taking sights Garrus could imagine... in spite of the number of times he had seen it.
Garrus sighed. "Shepard..."
"Garrus, if that Reaper or Collector or whatever the hell it is, if it assumes control of me and sabotages our squad and our mission, it's not just the squad... or you... or me... that's at stake there. It's everyone. Everywhere. Life as we know it. Even if I could ever be myself again, which is doubtful... I wouldn't want to live with that."
His talons gripped the assault rifle, framing her face, neck and shoulders directly between his forearms, he relaxed his grip, letting her take the rifle... she lowered her arms and he thought he heard it clatter on the table, but he didn't much care. He lowered his talons to cup her shoulders, sliding them along the length of her arms as to reassure himself she was still there- and still whole. "Neither would I."
"Then we have to succeed." Shepard fingers whispered over his fringe and settled at the back of his neck.
"Looks that way."
"Whatever it takes?"
Garrus sighed again, but he nodded. "Whatever the cost. And if you end up being part of the price we pay... there will be no one in the galaxy who can put a stop to my vengeance." And only my vengeance will stand between me and my death.
Shepard smirked. "Ah, Vakarian, you always know just what to say to a girl."