Anya Shepard didn't know how she got here, especially since she and Joker had reverted to warring siblings the past week or so, but she was sitting at her desk, waiting for said infamous pilot to come to her door.

When it pinged, and it slid open to show him giving a bemused smirk, she said, "Don't fucking laugh."

As if Joker heard absolutely nothing of what she just said, he snorted. With this annoying glint in his eye, he asked, "Why would I ever do that?"

Even though Anya sort of wanted to punch Joker in his stupid goddamn face for being such a feckless tool, she really had no one else to turn to.

After all, he was the only one who knew her little turian secret, and the same secret boyfriend was taking her to a bar on Illium tonight. Anya twisted her hands and mentally readied herself to kick his shin if he was too much of an asshole. "I need your help."

"Ooh, what an exciting day." Okay, that wasn't grounds for shin-kicking. The pilot walked into her room and leaned against the post across from her fish tank. It reminded her of hundreds of days at the Academy, with him chiding her for missing a class, failing a test, or crushing on some dumb cadet who'd never have time for her. And he even had that smirk going, where he always had some smartass thing to say. "What for, Pistol Princess?"

Taking a deep breath, Anya said, "Garrus is taking me on a date."

Joker raised an eyebrow, but left it at that. "Need me to cover for you?"

"Yes. But also I need advice."

"Advice?"

Anya felt pathetic admitting it, but she was already asking advice from a dirty-minded Alliance fly-boy who shoved his ass so far under her skin that she forgot sometimes why she cared about him so much.

But seeing him, standing here across from her, coming to her room just because she called, she figured she knew enough.

Rolling her eyes, Anya admitted, "You've dated more than I have. I'm .. rusty."

Joker crossed his arms, and Shepard really didn't like the dick-measuring look of pride. It was like a smirk mixed with self-inflated salt. "If by rusty you mean non-functioning, I know. I saw the training room catastrophe."When she glared, he winced. "Sorry, Anya. What can I do for you?"

In that simple question, Anya exhaled a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "I don't know what to wear. I don't know how to... act."

Where he could've made at least five snide comments, Joker instead just asked, "What are you two doing?"

"Dancing."

"Oh, little Ballerina back in action?" Yet some people just couldn't help themselves. She hoped that her gaze pierced through his face, because she couldn't exactly throw a combat knife at him. Joker shrugged like some jilted little brother. "What? I could make a joke about your shit club dancing, but that's too easy. Ones about the little Russian tutu-master, though? That's unused ammunition."

"Joker."

The pilot threw up his hands and walked towards her comically small closet. Joker even mocked it with his hands, pantomiming a small box, before daring to look in. "Fine, fine. I'd say wear something that makes you feel pretty but is still comfortable. And just be yourself, honestly. If that man hasn't run screaming yet, between your fucking job or idiot mouth, some date awkwardness is not going to stop him."

"That was... surprisingly sweet."

"I have my moments." Grabbing a short maroon dress, Joker grimaced. Ladies fashion wasn't exactly his style, literally. In all the years she'd known him, she didn' even know if he knew much else other than the Alliance uniform.

At least they were the same, like that.

He turned said maroon dress her way, looking like he hadn't decided if it was a decent option or just a trick of the eye. "How about this?"

"That's... That could work."

"It better. It looks like the only dress your soldier ass has. Wasn't expecting to be swept off your feet by an equally dumbass turian, were you?"

"Not quite."

As he walked back towards the door, he asked, "Now that all?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Joker."

"Anytime. Now come back before curfew or I'll have to get out my shotgun and shoot his nuts off. Or whatever annoying brother-types say." He tossed her a wink. A salacious, uncomfortable, gross kind that made her feel like her insides were about to grow their own stomach just so they could vomit. "That or y'all better have some steamy excuses."

Anya was ready to hurl on the floor at her feet. She didn't want to think about Joker thinking of her doing anything "steamy" ever. Her nose wrinkled on instinct. "Gross. Go."

With a simple wave, Joker walked out of her room. "Don't have to tell me twice."

No matter how much she appreciated the morale support right now, the filthy taste in her mouth wasn't exactly sure that asking Joker for help was all that worth it anymore.

Everything in her would like to cringe and be uncomfortable about that end wink, but she was already running behind. She only had ten minutes until she had to meet Garrus in the Illium docking bay.

Trying to remember how the hell to do her hair, it was. She did her classic probably too heavy eyeliner and thanked the gods for her fairly clear skin, but the hair? She hadn't done anything to it since she was sincerely wanting to be a ballerina, not an Alliance soldier, over a decade ago.

Anya grimaced. Fuck, did that make her feel old.

Eventually, Anya gave up. She made sure it was clean, dry, and brushed, but that's all she had in her. That and being too smart to wear heels. Instead, she chose black stripey sandals that Ash had convinced her to buy literally years ago and she'd abandoned in her Alliance apartment.

Guess they finally were coming in handy.

Then, she got to the fun part: rushing there without looking like a breathless idiot.

Unlucky for her, no matter how well she paced herself, she was fucking breathless after she left the Normandy. But not for athletic reasons.

Right outside the doors, there he was, leaning into the metallic walls. His hands were twitching and fiddling, clad in gray and black, wearing what she was pretty sure was the turian equivalent of a dress shirt. Anya was half-ready to turn around and bury her face in decontamination, to cool down her helpless cheeks.

But she had a date to go on. Walking up to him, she cleared her throat. "Hi."

The only thing that made her feel better was that, the second he looked at her, he looked just as helpless. His blue eyes kept scanning her, up and down, somewhere in between flattering and some sort of overly-intense probe. "You look... very different." He gestured towards her feet. "You have legs!" Garrus brought his hand back up to his face, rubbing his jaw, this horrified look on his face. "Sometimes I regret having a mouth."

Anya wanted to giggle, ease the tension, but it just kept catching in her throat. "I'd laugh if I had the lung capacity to." Instead, she reached for his hand and held the rugged talons against her own. "You look nice... too."

"That's good."

Even though they were a bit out of step and she knew she already was a blushing pink rose as far as the face was concerned, Anya tried talking to keep her head straight. "So am I leading you in real dancing or are you just taking me out to laugh at me?"

"Seeing you dance is special. I wouldn't miss a shot to take you out to do it for real." Garrus shrugged, tugging her closer to kiss her forehead. It was nice, simple, almost like they were a normal couple and not two soldiers stumbling their way around everything. "Also, I'll be terrible, so I'm sure you'll enjoy dragging an idiot turian around the dance floor."

"I'd choose the idiot turian every day." Trying to salvage her tragic cheeks, Anya took a step or two back. She didn't let go of his hand, though. Holding it was really growing on her. She said, "Now let's get going or we'll never leave this room."

Garrus got this somewhat devious look in his eyes, and used that evil, wonderful voice to his advantage, talking low. "I mean-"

"Shhh pretend we're decent people."

"If role-playing's your thing..."

Anya laughed. Really laughed. Amidst all the mess of Kaidan and Horizon and god knows what else, laughing was something she needed to keep close to her heart. It kept her fucking sane, in this crazy galaxy.

Giving Garrus a sidelong glance, though, she knew it wouldn't be too hard to do. Not with him by her side, at least.

The turian dragged her around the pavilion, eventually settling on this swankier club that they kept passing when they visited the trade port, but never walked in. When they walked into the glittering entrance, with so many people sipping champagne instead of beer, rubbing elbows instead of bear-hugging their buddies, Anya felt very out of place.

But it didn't take long for her to know why Garrus would pick this place; it was crooning through her ears and warming up her heart with every string, every pluck.

As they entered the main room, with people gliding across the ballroom floor, she said, "If it wasn't for the good dance music, I'd say let's get the fuck out of here and go find a place with less manners."

"I figured Chora's Den might not have the best tunes for a Russian ballerina."

"You joked that the other night was Noveria 2.0. What is this? Training room invasion 2.0?"

They found themselves near the bar, but neither of them looked like they were rearing for a drink. Instead, Anya swore it more felt like they were idiot teenagers at a school dance waiting for someone else to make the first move. At least, she assumed that's what Garrus' twitching fingers were about. She knew that was what was hiding behind all her lame-ass hair twirling.

For the moment, though, she just couldn't stop staring at his smile and eyes, and how good it felt to hold onto his arm and lean into those broad shoulders like she never could before. He was quite the attractive walking stick.

And listening to him talk wasn't so bad, either. "Kinda. It was a good morning. Fucked up my perception of my sexuality a little, but dancing with you?" When his eyes met hers, he swallowed, his whole facial expression seizing up and getting awkward. It was depressing, how quickly she was falling for his awkwardness. Garrus scratched his neck with his free hand, this stilted laugh falling from his mouth. "Uh, it was good."

"Seeing me in my leotard really did it for you?"

Next time he looked right at her, though, that awkwardness was falling back in place of something else. Something that caught her by the throat; the mouth; the heart. "Seeing you did it for me." This time, when he looked her over, he was slow, burning, deliberate. Anya felt her skin heat up, and not quite the same way the blush did. "Hell, look at you."

Nearly choking on his sudden boldness, Anya said, "Stop being charming and let's start doing what we came here for." She used their holding hands to her advantage and dragged him towards the dance floor. "Instead, tell me you remember what I taught you."

When she turned back to look at him, and he placed his free hand on her hip, just like their first and only dancing lesson, that burning look hadn't left his eyes. He admitted, "Every second of it."

"Do you have that good of a memory, or did you really like me that much?"

"I'd love to brag about the former, but no. It was just you." Just as Garrus' face was walking a car crash level-line between awkward and terribly hot, he twirled her and caught her in his arms. Anya was about ready to melt through the damn floor, suddenly so close to those blue eyes. "Even learned a little bit on my own."

The all-body blush, sexy and awkward, made her take a step back to a more chaste position.

Not that she didn't like things less than PG but, the publicity of the whole thing made her pause on letting things get too steamy.

That, ahd she didn't know what to do with herself if things got very steamy.

Instead, she laughed, giggled, sounded like a silly, enamored teenage girl when she said, "Garrus Vakarian! You're full of surprises tonight."

"You don't know the half of it." Garrus winced. Man had a talent for saying slightly suggestive things, didn't he? "That didn't sound-"

"Let's just enjoy the dancing." But the second they were quiet again, his arms around her, their steps following a simple waltz, Anya couldn't help her curious mind filling the space. After all, if he got all hot and bothered about the ballet morning...

A little too awkward to look in his eyes, she stared at her feet and asked, "When did you know?"

"Know what?"

Fuck it. Her eyes met his, green on blue. "Know how you felt about me?" Shrugging, Anya tried to be more cool about it all, but it only made her stiffer and weirder. It was like even her body was embarrassed by her. "I-I mean, mine's painfully obvious. Noveria. But you kept your cards so close to your chest..." And that's where she kept her eyes, to that chest of his that she laid her chest on in so many hugs that she thought were meant to be platonic, and she was just being the inappropriate one, but maybe... "Unless things happened like they did...I don't think I ever would've figured it out."

"Which is tragic considering everyone else knew." Garrus sighed and startled her by brushing his forehead against hers, like the softest of kisses, an intimate meeting of skin. "I didn't get drunk and come to some great realization. You started out someone I admired. Then someone I could call my friend. Then, I realized I liked you more than anyone in the galaxy." His face close to hers, his breath on her face, he smirked. Anya could barely breathe. "But I guess that day in the training room was when I couldn't ignore the fact my feelings weren't so platonic anymore."

Her chuckle low and tainted by some feelings she didn't quite know how to manage, Anya said, "Guess I need some more leotards."

"Stop." Garrus groaned and rubbed his temple. "It's not that they- it's just-"

"I know." Realizing she'd been practically gluing her hands to his shoulders, those tall, broad parts of him that always caught her eye, she reddened a bit and moved her fingers. "If it equals the playing field, your shoulders really get to me."

He raised an eyebrow. "Shoulders?"

"I don't know, they're big and tall and... I can't explain it, okay?"

"You're attracted to an oddly specific mass of muscle, how cute."

Leading his steps across the dance floor, Anya scowled at the suddenly teasing turian. Guy couldn't pull himself together about leotards, but now that she was the target, that was fair, easy game, apparently. "I was trying to make you feel better, so fuck off, buddy."

"That was your mistake, giving me ammunition."

Anya glared at him. "Oh, I wish we were on the Normandy so I could take you to the training room and kick your ass."

In a startling turn of events, Garrus pulled her waist closer to him and that devilish smirk grew. "Just trying to get close to me, huh?" Anya's arms prickled at the thought; she exhaled in anticipation. Because that wasn't a look she'd ever seen him give her before, like he was thinking of all the things he could do to her, and she couldn't look away from him. To make matters worse, he even leaned his face closer, whispering onto her neck, "Because that could get interesting."

If this turian wanted to get her riled up, he was succeeding. Anya raised an eyebrow and countered, "You wish, Vakarian." But when he looked at her, he didn't look like her clever, bantering best friend. He was something powerful and damn near irresistible.

Holy fuck, she wasn't going to survive life, with him daring to cross that adorkable line all the way over to sexy.

And with that damned voice of his, he said, "Oh, I do, Shepard."

Anya tried to still keep the sexy banter going, even though she was about ready to shut him up the best way she knew how. Her new favorite way, that normally involved closets and her bedroom, but she'd settle for anywhere right now. "Ah, I see, so you dream of being pinned down on the ground by a better soldier."

He raised an eyebrow. "Only one way to see who'd be pinning who."

Her breathing a little out of sync, and her heart completely off any sort of rhythmic chart, Anya bit her lip and offered, "I don't think it would be a crime to cut this date short, would it?"

Garrus seemed just as drunk on their conversation as she was. "We could get out of these fancy clothes, reserve the training room, prove who kicks the most ass. Probably me, but I'd be more than happy to see you try."

Pulling him off the dance floor, she nodded. "You're on." Anya turned back towards him and ran her hand up his arm, cupped his face with her palm. She was starting to love that, feeling every groove of him pressed into her hand, making him so tangible and everything they'd been through so real. She admitted, with her own voice low, "Worst comes to worse, we could always hold a tie-breaker back in my-"

Suddenly, she heard a gun shot behind her.

Both their heads swiveled towards two Blue Suns idiots standing at the entrance of the club, looking pretty damn drunk. Whatever small part of her was a sexy woman trying to get somewhere tonight groaned and died. They couldn't even end their own date early without something fucking it up, could they?

The shorter of the men, with a scraggly, stupid beard, yelled, "Heard some buddies of Zaeed's are here tonight! Well, we want you to send him a message that we want him dead." Then he chuckled, chucking his beer bottle at the wall. "Assuming you're not dead first, of course."

Shepard groaned and pulled them both behind cover. Pulling up her skirt a little, she brought her pistol out of her thigh holster and prepped it for shooting. "Oh for fuck's sake. Can't even get a little sexy without shit going sideways."

Next to her, Garrus was also fiddling with something at his waist. "If it counts, I think you were doing well with the sexy thing."

"Not the time, Garrus."

"Just trying my best here." Snorting, he finally seemed to get straight whatever he was pulling at. "I'd make a joke about you bringing a pistol on our date but-" A quick glance over, and Garrus had a full on sniper-rifle out.

Even though she didn't mean to, or inherently wanted to, Anya laughed. "Gotta admit, the sniper's hot."

"Leotards, shoulders, snipers. Got it."

Her laugh was followed by another uncontrollable snort. Normal people didn't transition from "ready to bone" to shootout ready in a matter of seconds. Shooting through the second Blue Suns' helmet, Anya said, "There's something wrong with us."

"I dunno, I think we're pretty great." Very timely, Garrus shot through the main drunk idiot's face, ending this short, but stupid, confrontation. "And with that, Blue suns are all fucked off."

Just as the firefight ended, and the adrenaline stopped pumping through her veins, Anya felt a sharp pain in her right arm. When she looked, there was a tear in the arm of her dress and a new blood red line forming on her skin. "Ugh, fuck, they grazed my arm. What a time to wear a dress instead of my suit and shields."

They took a few moments to make sure everyone at the club was okay before walking out and ducking into an alley to deal with the other part of their problem.

Side by side, Garrus leaned over her open omni-tool and asked, "Time to ask Zaeed some questions?"

"Yes."

The tool dialed, and Anya would be damned if the merc wasn't going to answer. If he didn't, she'd have to shoot his door open on the Normandy and punch him herself.

But lucky for her, Zaeed answered their call, albeit looking pretty pissed off about it. "Hey, merc asshole, why are some of your Blue Suns friends hunting us down and shooting at us? Hmm?"

He scowled. "That business is mine. If you want to get fucking involved, take me to murder Vido." And then he hung up. Like an asshole.

"Cool." Anya frowned and wasn't too happy about how many Blue Suns might be heading their way on revenge gambits. It meant they really did have to deal with Vido, and ASAP. Worst part was, though, it really put something steamy on the backburner of their priorities.

When she looked up at Garrus, he was so close, so handsome, and so much of everything she could ever want. But she had to be the Commander, at the end of the day. With a sigh, she said, "I'd love to go do that... thing we talked about but-"

"But you're bleeding and Chakwas wouldn't be too happy about leaving scars. And we also have to deal with the Blue Suns bullshit."

"I dunno, I wouldn't mind having a few more of my own. Maybe we could just stay here in this secluded alley and-" Even though he seemed to enjoy her touch, his face frowned like the unfortunately responsible person he was. Most days, she loved that about him. But when it came to them having time together... Anya groaned. "I know, I know."

Garrus was so close she could feel his breath on her left cheek. "Hate to say it but-"

"Raincheck?"

The turian mirrored her groan. "One day we'll have a good date."

"I think we're forever doomed to have things go haywire, be it a mission or a date. And I don't know if I'm insane but... I enjoyed it. So, before we go..." Anya pushed off the wall and stood in front of him. She got on her toes and pressed her mouth to his, trying to place all the excitement and enjoyment left in her body into this one kiss. Though she wanted to give him more, it had to be enough for now. When she pulled away, it was disappointing to say the least. But he was smiling. "Thanks for taking me dancing."

Garrus stood straight and smoothed out his shirt. "Thanks for wanting to dance with me."

"Now, let's get me healed up and deal with Zaeed being an asshole, shall we?"

/

The transition between awkward and sexy is one I know too well and have WAY too much fun writing

But oh boy WHAT a cock block

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See you on Saturday

He gestured out of the alleyway, and back towards their ever chaotic lives as the heroes of the goddamn galaxy. Garrus and Anya would have to stay on the dance floor; it was time to be Shepard and Vakarian. "Lead the way, Commander."