-Garrus-
Finding themselves alone in the stairwell leading up to Flux, Garrus softly stops his wife with a gentle grip on her wrist to grab her attention. She turns to him with a raised brow and relaxes, her silent okay to voice his current question.
"First thing," he motions to the Salarian heading out to the Lower Wards in order to seem less conspicuous. "What're your plans with that device?"
She smirks and inspects the gambling equipment in her hand. "Well, I had a thought of cleaning Flux of all their credits," her grin widens at his unamused mandible flick, "but then I remembered that I married a Turian."
At that, he gives her a smirk of his own and adds a low growl to his voice. "This is the first time I've ever heard you complain…"
She snorts and waves him to continue onward. "Don't worry. You seemed to have rubbed off on me." She tosses the device up with one hand and catches it with the other. "I think I'll probably see if we can get some free drinks if we turn this sucker in. Probably more than what Schells was willing to dish out."
Garrus nods, willing to let her go after whatever payment she thinks she can get as they climb the last of the stairs and step deeper into the thick environment caused by the loud, thumping bass of music. When they enter the upscale bar, she leads him over to the bar counter and waves over a human woman. Surprisingly, she orders two glasses of Turian brandy as well as a drink for herself, when he raises a brow, she shrugs with a pointed look to the waitress, silently saying 'I'll explain in a bit.'
"Here," she says as she hands over a glass, the other hovering just beyond his grasp as she explains. "I know you weren't there when I talked to Sha'ira since Liara wanted to come along, so I'll cut through all the bullshit and tell you why we're here." Her emerald eyes quickly scan the bar before landing on something, which she then subtly motions towards. "See that guy?"
He glances and catches sight of a slumped Turian in a far booth, head dropped to stare into his half drained drink and Garrus' mandible flicks at the obvious look of pain through the drunkenness in his stance. It may be dark where he has secluded himself from the rest of the club, but Garrus knows that even those not accustomed to Turian body language will be able to read something is wrong with this man.
"Apparently he's a General." His jaw drops subtly at that, his mandibles quirking in confusion. She looks over to the General with a sad twitch to her lips. "His name is Septimus Oraka, but his position isn't really the point. She claims that he –oh how did she say it?- oh, yeah." Her lip lifts in distaste as she quotes, "'wanted her to be more than she could be' and now he 'spreads lies about her.'"
Jane shakes her head at the conversation she must have had while he was busy staying out of Liara's sight. He knows his mate's view on Asari, that they never seem to be telling the entire truth and always hold back knowledge when they think it better benefits themselves.
"Look," she interrupts his thoughts. "I don't think Sha'ira is as innocent in this break-up as she claims. To be honest, I think she's a bitch that most likely led him on." He lifts a brow and she waves it off. "Short story, she has a problem with personal space and touching people." She scowls for a moment before grabbing the second Turian drink. "Watch my drink for me. The last thing the General needs is a mated pair walking up and telling him to 'get over it'."
He supposes that's probably something that most likely transcends species, when someone is trying to drink themselves into sweet oblivion from love lost they usually don't want the company of those who have what they don't. It isn't too common to see a Turian out in public drinking to forget their sorrows and it's even a bit disorienting considering that is also such a high ranking member of the Hierarchy, actively serving or not. Add that to the fact that his people tend to keep even their successful relationships private and Garrus doesn't know if he would feel as confident in his mate's shoes as she approaches Oraka, head held high and strides solid as if on a mission on the battlefield.
He may be able to admit that he isn't as good of an example of a good Turian as his father always wanted, but he is enough of one to get an odd itch under his plates from even considering approaching the former General to quite literally demand the man to sober up, even if for his own good. He'd never be able to approach the man at the end of the bar with his head held high, a voice in his head demanding he fall in line and not question a superior member of the Hierarchy, no matter the situation. Maybe it's the environment, Garrus thinks, as he's pretty sure he's had no problem questioning orders on the field, much to his superiors' ire.
He watches from his position as Jane sits at the General's table, offering the drink with a smile despite the Turian's initial dismissal. Garrus can't read her lips to determine her words, but her body language shifts enough to tell him that she's talking to the man as Jane, not Commander Shepard, and it seems to help convince him of her good intentions.
He watches as the General's body shifts, his head dropping and arm coming to the table to wrap around the offered glass. Garrus watches as Oraka seems to openly tell her everything, her silent head nod only confirming his suspicion. He even sees the man hit a point in his story where his emotions shift to anger, his head movements jerky and free arm jabbing to air to prove a point, and Garrus can't help but growl a bit as his blood pumps a bit faster at the thought of his mate being so close to an angered Turian without him.
His rumblings soon calm as he watches Oraka's head drop to his free hand as Jane's soft lips move, her hands waving out towards the club, though Garrus is sure she's probably motioning something beyond. The General finally looks to her eyes, his movements calmer from either understanding or defeat from her words, perhaps even a bit of both.
Watching her talk to the man is mesmerizing, giving Garrus the chance to truly stand back to admire the way she seems to flawlessly fall into patterns of speech and gestures not common in her own species. She has always had an unnatural amount of charisma that she often hides behind her temper and knows that her effortless shift to his own culture's way of conversation is less about her personal relation and more to her ability to read people, her capability to understand what is it they need to hear without a word ever falling from their mouth.
Jane quickly looks up, her green eyes instantly snapping to his with a sympathetic smile on her face, but she's pulled back to her seat as the General moves to push himself up from the table. He stumbles, obviously hit by the number of drinks he must have downed during his time before they arrived, and she helps him back to his chair.
Garrus doesn't need any more reason to step in, setting his drink on the container to go to waste after only having a sip or two, and moves to his mate's side. The booth smells strongly of Turian liquor, strong and cheap, and he's pretty sure the General's drunken fumble knocked over a glass or two as his eye catches a glimmer of liquid snaking across the glass surface.
"So this is the pup," Oraka growls out, his subvocals thick from his grief and intoxication. "Save your pep talk. Your mate's already made her point."
Garrus flicks a mandible at the loud mix of harmonics wafting off the man, unbidden from Turians' usual stern control, but he doesn't remark. One look at his wife's expression is enough to tell him that saying anything will only add salt to the General's wounds. He shifts the weight on his shoulder and nods for her to lead the way, considering that escorting the man home is the least he can do for such a war hero.
As they approach the transportation terminal, Oraka gains enough footing to lessen the weight on Garrus' and lays a firm hand on Jane's shoulder, causing her to turn to him with a questioning brow. "Go tend to Xeltan. I am capable of dragging myself home. I would like to speak to the pup, if you don't mind."
Her brows draw down, but smooth out once the man stands more solidly on his own feet, letting Garrus go. She turns to Garrus and he nods, silently acknowledging that he'll offer the man a chance to speak his mind. Satisfied, she nods in a very Turian goodbye, walking down the steps to give the two some semblance of privacy.
A buzz of amusement echoes from the General as he turns, liquor-dazed eyes locking firmly onto him. "Your mate is more than she lets on." Garrus narrows his eyes, searching for that the hell that's supposed to mean, but the man just shrugs. "Just consider what duty should come first." He looks off to where Jane stands in the distant as she waits. "Most of us are too stubborn to know, wasting our lives on protocol and rules."
Garrus opens his mouth, the man's words of 'advice' too confusing possibly from the vast amounts of alcohol in his system, but Oraka shakes his head in silent refusal to add anything more. With a gruff cough, Oraka moves to the cab terminal, a heavy hand dropping to Garrus' shoulder in what he's unsure of either being the need for balance or an actual gesture that the man probably picked up from living on the Citadel.
Knowing it's best to leave the man be as he climbs into his transport to head to wherever he calls home, Garrus returns his attention to joining his wife. As he climbs down the stairs on the way to where she's waiting by the entrance to the Lower Wards, he sees her talking to a much younger red headed human female, who he recognizes after a moment as the waitress from the bar.
He catches the last of the conversation, something about a sister working as an informant for C-Sec in Chora's Den and the woman's fear of her getting hurt. A logical fear when considering the amount of crime that flows through the club and something he isn't at all surprised to hear gets Jane's attention. Jane agrees to help, the woman leaving her with a grateful thank you, as Garrus makes it to her side.
Once the woman is out of earshot, and the hallway clear, Jane smiles up to him. "Well, what secrets were you sharing with the General?"
He shakes his head with an amused mandible flick. "Turns out he's quite smitten with you."
She snorts. "'Smitten.' I don't know why you sound so ridiculous saying that… Anyways, I figure you heard what's going on?" She motions towards where the short woman disappeared back into the club and he nods. "I figured that maybe we can check up on C-Sec and see if you can pull a favor to ask who is dealing with Jenna."
Garrus smirks. "What? You aren't just going to go straight into Chora's Den and walk right up to her?"
Jane rolls her eyes and turns to leave, on their way to The Consort, most likely. "Please, I'm not an idiot. I don't have to be a cop to know that risking someone's cover is just stupid." She pulls out a datapad and hands it over her shoulder. "Here. Do you think you can take this to Xeltan, the Elcor diplomat over in the embassies?"
He takes the datapad, but decides to tease her. "What? Now I'm your errand boy while you get to have fun with The Consort?"
He chuckles at the exaggerated shiver that shakes from her shoulders and down her back. "Please, don't remind me. I feel like I have to take a shower after her first attempt at seducing me." They step into an elevator and Jane presses the close button, sealing the two alone in. "You know, it's actually a good thing you aren't there." She smirks and runs a light touch along his mandible, pulling out an involuntary purr, but pulls back before he can do anything more. "I would be afraid you would make a scene."
"Now, now. You'd make me out to be entirely uncontrollable." He chuckles when she raises a brow. He steps closer to her, knowing he only has a moment as the lift slows beneath his feet, and take her chin in his free hand. He presses against her lips, dipping his tongue in to tug once on her own before he pulls back and back to his professional distance.
He hears her huff in frustration just as the doors open and they step aside and out to let those waiting to get on step inside. She heads towards The Consort's while he moves in the opposite direction to deliver the Elcor's datapad.
Just as he's leaving the embassies after handing over the apparently sensitive information hacked from the diplomat's accounts, Garrus' Omni-Tool pings softly with incoming message. Pulling it up, he can't help his mandible's flaring in amusement as he reads.
"Is it too late to change my mind? Can I say that I'm okay with possessive Turians?"
He sits down at a Presidium bench, his head tilted subtly in confusion, and writes a reply. "What happened?"
"Here I am, letting her know her men problems are taken care of, being as civil as I can, and the blue bitch comes onto me… ugh, my skin is still twitching."
Garrus is more shocked than anything. She just sent us to take care of a man whose bond you don't reciprocate and you already move onto the next? "I'm starting to see you're problem with Asari."
"I've actually never meant one like her. It's like she's never had someone say no. Like the words doesn't exist in her vocabulary." A pause in messages before she sends another. "The only good thing is that she agreed to see 12. Liara is going to stay with the two."
"Then why are you messaging me and not here?"
He chuckles at her response, practically hearing it in her voice even if he still doesn't quite understand the meaning. "Hold your damn horses. Sha'ira's got some…thing she wants to give me since 'fate is telling her' or some fancy who-ha. Knowing her, I'm probably just getting some garbage, but oh well. Then we can go get some food."
"I'm up for anything that's not ship rations." He cringes at the taste that seems to constantly linger on his tongue of the processed food, even if it's the higher quality.
"Damn, there goes my plans." He huffs in exasperation and shakes his head. "I guess I can suffer with something here on the Citadel."
He smiles. "Then it's settled, something edible for once. Finish up with your Asari friend and we can go eat."
"I hate you," she messages and Garrus has to fight back the laugh that threatens when he pictures her brows drawn down and lip protruding a bit in that cute pout she does when he sometimes teases her to the point where she can't think of a response.
V.v.V.v.V
"I was thinking about asking Chellick if he knows who Jenna's contact is."
Garrus tilts his head back to let his mouthful of noodles slide down his throat before looking across the table to his wife, licking the tip of his mandible to catch the trial of broth before it falls. "And why would you think that he'd know?"
She shrugs, her mouth full of her own noodles before she bites down and lets the rest fall back into her bowl. "I just figured that he'd be more willing to help me than anyone else. Seems to be the norm that most C-Sec don't like Spectres."
He snorts and sits back in his chair, done with his meal. "That's because a lot of them don't like the fact that Spectres have no limitations, no regulations to have to follow."
"You seem to admire that." She takes a drink from her glass. "You know, there's a difference between not liking rules because they can cause you to lose your target or interfere with your job and not liking rules because you don't like someone telling you want you can't do."
Her brow lifts and a low rumble vibrates through his chest. "You asking if I know the difference?" She shrugs, causing him to huff in exasperation. "Look, I know there's a fine line and it's hard to walk that line, but can you honestly say that rules actually stop those who are determined enough to find their way around them? Corrupt cops are just as likely as a Spectre who follows every law laid out, even when they could very well bypass them."
He feels a gentle rub against his leg and he sighs. "I understand. I know that your head's in the right place," she says with a warm smile. "I always have. Hell, you're better at it than I am."
"I find that hard to believe."
"You shouldn't." Jane pushes her food away and does that silly gesture where she pats her belly, a sign that she's full. "Turns out that you have a better moral compass than I do and I'm not just catering to your ego. I get distracted by stupid things like person beefs or my attitude, but you. I think you'd make a great Spectre."
He blinks in stunned silence and she snorts laugh. "Can you imagine it's been so long that we've been fighting together and I haven't even told you what I think about your fighting? You're fucking brutal on the battlefield, quick and efficient. They weren't wrong when they asked you to join the Spectres, you definitely show it." She holds up a hand to stop any protest. "And no, I'm not saying it because of our relationship because I don't consider that when we're out on the field. In fact, I try to forget that because I don't want it to show through when we fight or cause any unnecessary complications."
They quiet down enough to pay their bills and leave the restaurant, Garrus not quite sure how to respond to her admission. It sends little shocks of heat through his blood, sparks of images of when he was a kid and his childhood dreams of wanting to become a Spectre coming to his mind. In his young mind, a Spectre was the solitary symbol of all that was right in the galaxy, the force that could defeat any evil, and though he clearly knows otherwise as he is now grown, no longer naïve, he can't help but think of what he could still accomplish if he actually let himself believe in Jane's words.
He wouldn't have to watch another criminal, another monster like Saleon, slip through his talons because of protocol that drags him down, chains him while letting his foes fly. As a Spectre, he could follow his leads without worry of some high priced attorney finding a way to snake around his misfiled paperwork.
Even better was the possibility that he would finally be considered his mate's equal, no longer needing to fall onto the constantly stagnant subordinate/superior roles that went against the very grain of his plates. She could keep her secret, hide their marriage and bond, so long as he didn't have to continue to lock his muzzle against his opinion on a mission whenever around someone else. She needed someone who could help give her the other side of the battlefield, not in a way of questioning her lead, but to give her close view of the field the eyes of a long range sniper.
"Hey," her worried voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he looks down to see her clouded smile. "You were gone for a moment. You okay?"
He smiles, an assuring thrum vibrating once before falling quiet again. "Yeah, just thinking about what you said." Her smile clears. "I'll definitely think about it."
She nods at that and motions with a hand towards their apartment complex that he just realizes they were heading to while he was distracted. She chuckles softly, obviously knowing he had been caught day dreaming, and leads him in.