Jane
Mordin set Garrus up in a hospital hotel, accommodations granted to Anderson's team, where a VI monitored the vitals of patients who were stable enough to be discharged, but still needed a close eye.
The room itself looked like a typical motel, two beds, a television, a small bathroom to the side. Due to the extra space, and the fact Garrus, while not outright saying it, clearly didn't want to be alone, Jane decided to stay and keep him company during the last leg of his recovery.
After settling in, they toured the building, checked out Mordin's setup on the top floor. The lab was an oval chamber, complete with several stations for assistants, tanks filled with goo plus the same dead, bug-creatures that attacked Tuchanka, and a whole lot of other fancy-looking gadgets – metal ghouls that blinked and hummed, lined the back of the lab.
Beyond that was a window revealing another lab, where people were dressed like old-fashioned astronauts. (Garrus had taken to showing her weird human movies during his hospital stay.) At first, she thought the astronauts were batarian, five fingers, similar shape, then she caught a glimpse of one's face through the see-through window of his suit, and she realized they were all human.
A breeze whizzed passed her. Mordin was alternating between doling out orders through the intercom and rambling to himself, racing back and forth as he spoke.
"No! Not unicellular. Defies natural…Yes! Yes! Evolves!" The salarian sped to the window, and hit the intercom button. "It learns! Combines!"
Curiosity peaked, she tried asking what combines? But Mordin, previously unaware of their presence, began blabbering about classified intel and shooed them out. It was for the best. That place gave her the creeps. A fact Garrus seemed to pick up on, and graciously suggested they scope out the gym. They made a quick stop at their room, as they both needed to change, and headed to the basement. (Nalah bought her a few outfits while she stayed at the hospital with Garrus.)
Now the gym was much more their style. Better yet, it was exclusive to those on Anderson's team, and since most were deployed, they had it to themselves.
"On your six!" Garrus crowed, right before a squishy-ball thing hit the side of her face.
She snatched it, threw it in the opposite direction, and watched as he gracefully leaped, his long, alien limbs launching him across the mat. A flash of reflexes, and he caught it with ease. He spun and threw it hard, far from her position. She zipped towards it, biotics pulsing against the mats, snatching it before it hit the ground.
"Spirits I can't get over how you do that."
"Jealous?" She teased.
"Definitely."
"What kind of P.T. does a turian do after he takes a rocket to the face anyway?"
"Walking, running, anything that keeps me moving really, prevents blood clots."
So that's how they started, half-walking, half-jogging laps around the gym. After merely an hour, though, Jane sat down. She was still recovering from forgetting to eat, sleep, or drink for 36 hours and was prone mild dizziness. If it wasn't for Garrus's keen eyes, however, she'd push passed it. The floor was soft, what did it matter if she keeled over a couple times? It sounded fun. But the man was hovering. So she relented without saying, I used to stay awake for days at a time, high out of my mind, fighting everything that moved. This is child's play.
Besides the view from the sidelines was … eye catching.
Garrus, stripped to nothing but black workout shorts, was running full blast around the gym – revealing how his species was built for power and speed. She found herself a little mesmerized, watching his muscular legs pound over the track. His talons, the balls of his feet, seemed to launch him as he ran. It was as if his very being was made to endure. To fight. Hard plating covered most of him, interrupted by bits of brown on his waist, his inner arms. A quick omni-search informed her it was hide, supple in nature, leathery. And she wondered why the nurse always started a vein beneath the plate and not there.
Another loop. Powerful arms pumping, chest muscles moving in unison from beneath that living armor, an impenetrable-looking cowl hung around his neck, protectively draped into his chest…
Stop. Staring.
She shook herself from this embarrassing derailment and began timing his laps. Igothan's shiny head, Garrus clocked in at two minutes 33 seconds for every mile.
This was P.T. - exercise to help him recover his strength. What was he like at full force?
She blinked, watching as he sped through the gym, round and around. Mind screeching to a halt when she saw the blackened crater cutting into his chest plate, a nasty gunshot wound.
She bit her lip, eyes dropping to the floor. I should have been there.
Evening approached and they retired to their room. Garrus gave her first dibs on the shower, even though she had already cooled down, and by the time she returned, he had a list of movies for her to check out while he took a turn in the bathroom.
She chose Cantus in Cipitrine, the description made it sound like there'd be some epic explosions, and waited for Garrus to re-emerge. They ordered take-out, and settled on their respective beds, eating by the flickering light of the tv, joking, and hollering at the best parts.
"Oh! Wait! Jane go back!"
She hit the rewind button.
"No not that far! You missed it."
Now the forward button.
"Wait! Wait! Stop! Crap."
"What does this one do?" She asked coyly, right before hitting the double arrow button that made the screen whizz by at lightning speed.
Garrus growled, grabbed at the clicker."You're doing it on purpose!"
"Me? What?! No!"
The look he gave nearly had her falling off the bed in stitches. "Evil woman."
Eventually they made it to the bombing scene, where they cheered simultaneously as the glass shattered, and the sky scraper collapsed in on itself.
"This is my favorite part." Garrus proclaimed. "You know they actually built and blew up the Dastius building for this scene? It's a shell of course, empty on the inside, but still… that's dedication."
Apparently, she wasn't the only one who enjoyed watching things explode.
That's how their days passed, and Jane thoroughly enjoyed the rigidity in Garrus's schedule. Up at five, breakfast at 5:30, exercise until noon, lunch, a nap as he was still recovering, then back to the gym. Knowing what was going to happen before it happened brought a sense of peace. Stability.
But there was a darkness in him too. The ghosts of his men seemed to grow sharper, more encompassing after his mother's death.
Late at night, long after she'd fallen asleep, she'd wake to snarls emanating from the crack beneath the bathroom door. Garrus giving himself pep-talks. Usually she didn't concern herself, everyone had their own way of working through shit, but tonight he seemed particularly tense. Rage smoldering under his plates, seeping into the inky black, stirring her from the depths of slumber.
"I have to do this. The thought of him getting away with it?" A sharp intake of breath. "No. A shot to the head. Quick. Painless. More than he deserves." Scratching, squealy sounds. She could almost see his talons digging into the countertop, leaving deep grooves in the surface. "I'll pull the trigger and I'll live with the consequences! Do it! You have to-" there was a crash as if something fell (or was heedlessly thrown in a fit of rage,) and she was treated to one of the rare instances Garrus cursed in turian.
The door creaked open, followed by the rustling sound of him climbing into bed. "Did I wake you?" He asked softly.
"No. I'm just awake."
"Insomnia again?"
Not when you're around. "I guess." She lied. "Garrus?"
"Hm?"
"You're going on this mission right? The one through the Omega-4 Relay?"
"How do you know about that?"
"I have my ways."
"Sneaky ways." He admonished, with more amusement than heat in his voice.
"This thing with Sidonis… it's happening before that mission right?"
"My men deserve to be avenged." Anger crept into his subvocals. Harsh. Bitter. "And I'm still shocked you're not on board. You, of all people, don't want to see this guy get what's coming to him?"
"It's not that."
"Then?"
I don't want you to do it. "Doing something so far from who you are, right before a high-risk mission? It doesn't sit right with me."
"The thought of going on this mission while he still draws breath makes me want to puke. If I don't do this, no one will." He paused. "And it's not that high risk."
"No ship has ever returned, right?"
"You're crawling through the ducts again aren't you?"
"Maybe."
"Are you hoarding food up there?"
"No!"
"Wouldn't care if you were. I miss the base smelling like waffles every time someone turned on the heat. It'd be a fragrant addition to the Normandy."
"I'm guessing Nalah never managed to scrub out the syrup?"
"No one was small enough to fit." He rumbled, chuckling.
She groaned. "I should've said something before I left."
"Don't worry about it." A rustling sound. She was fairly certain he laid back under the covers. "You've come a long way… it's been a privilege to watch."
Her fingers fidgeted beneath the sheets, uncomfortable with praise. "So how do turians prepare for a high-risk mission?"
"With violence mostly."
She snorted. "Sounds about right."
"Supervised sparring was a favorite."
"Of yours or everyone's?"
"Both."
"Would you ever… want to spar?"
"Want to? Definitely. But I'd be too scared of hurting you, Jane. You're very small."
"My biotics are a game changer."
"Don't I know it. But even then… Turians are a lot stronger than humans. Add in the fact you're small for your species, and I won't be able to help the hesitation." He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was louder, as if he rolled to face her. "We could play a game of cat and mouse though."
"A what and what now?"
"Earth animals. Usually the subject of cartoons."
"How do you know so much about humans anyhow?"
"You pick things up if you're around another species enough." There was a pause, a hesitancy, before he continued. "Well, you know that better than anyone I imagine. As for me, it started with my partner in C-Sec. Then I spent a year chasing after Saren on a human ship. Most of my team on Omega was human. Spirits, I lost count of the number of times I watched Star Wars with Ripper. I'm starting to… get the cultural references more and more."
"And now you're on a Cerberus ship. More humans."
"Does it… bother you?"
"The humans?"
"I meant Cerberus."
"No."
"That surprises me. After what they did to you… I'm sorry. I shouldn't bring it up."
"I honestly don't care."
"About my bringing it up?"
"About any of it. Cerberus, the Hegemony, Omega, Tuchanka, Kar'Shan. I can't tell the difference. Everything is always the same. Big things eating little things. Little things trying to be the big thing so they can eat other little things, or, at the very least, not be eaten. Even the gangs on Omega were the same."
"You've seen the worst the galaxy has to offer, but that's… shockingly insightful."
"Am I really wrong that often?"
"Quite the opposite. Sometimes I forget how clever you are."
"I'm not. Trust me."
Silence.
Jane broke it first. "So, how do we play cat and mouse?"
"Hm? Oh," a rasp as he cleared his throat. "Basically the cat tries to catch the mouse. We can set a timer, see if one can find the other before it runs out."
"Sounds boring. Let's both be the cat. And no long-range biotics for me. Melee only."
"How could you possibly stand a chance?"
"I'm going to wear you down. Hard."
"Uh huh."
"Start singin' the doom song Vakarian."
"So, how exactly should we go about this? I'll definitely be wearing gloves. Fragile human skin and all." There was a whole lot of snark in that response.
She smirked into the darkness. "Figured I'd let you set up. Give the gym some cover, hiding places, that sort of thing."
"We'll both set up." His voice pitched, pure mockery. "Wouldn't want you to be at even more of a disadvantage, not knowing the lay of the land."
"You're going to regret that, Vakarian."
Following Day
Garrus
They decided that the first one to be knocked over was the loser. He thought it was incredibly unfair to her, but given how cocky she'd been, well, she needed a reality check. So he agreed.
Oh, how wrong he was.
The match. Was. Brutal.
Garrus had raw, physical strength, turian reflexes, and reach. But Jane had biotic speed, and astounding flexibility.
Every time he thought he had her, she morphed into liquid fire, biotics pulsing off the mats with incredible force, hammering him backwards as she twisted around and away from him, it took everything he had to remain on his feet.
Another wave rushed passed him and she was on the other side of the gym, catching her breath. He could rush her, but he learned the hard way how fast she recovered. Instead, he flattened himself against a stack of crates, leaped into a dip in the floor where she couldn't see, and started stalking her.
This time, when he leaped out, gloved talons whipping through the air, he was certain he had her. Only Jane pivoted, and used the momentum to biotically flip up and over him. Again, she slipped his talons like mist. How does she do that? Time became immaterial. Their focus narrowed to nothing but each other.
Again and again, he'd try to snatch her, and she'd pulse away, throttling him backwards in the process. It incensed his instincts, quickened his blood. One way or another, he was taking this woman down.
It went on until evening. (Although, neither knew until they looked at the clock, later after… everything that happened between them.) And the only reason he won was because he cheated. When she came around to thrash him again, an attempt at knocking him down using only melee pulses, he started coughing. She was immediately distracted, concerned, and he used the opportunity to sweep her legs out from under her. She hit the mats, realized his dirty trick, and biotically pulled him down after her.
His arm shot out in front him him, preventing him from landing on top of her. And he stared at the woman beneath him. Cheeks flush. Hair pasted to her forehead. Her skin glistened with sweat. Cheater or not, he'd normally goad his opponent, enjoy taunting them so they'd go at it even harder the next time they hit the mats. But he just… didn't have it in him. The match's conclusion left him with a sense of emptiness. It was the first time he had gone more than an hour without the faces of his men flowing through his mind, a macabre parade, a reminder of the good he had stolen from the galaxy.
Jane
She couldn't bear it a moment longer! The aching sadness. The limitless pain. How he seemed to droop into the floor. None of it was Garrus, and it left her with an unquenchable need to see him again.
She wanted him back. The way she remembered him – hopeful and witty with a steady patience that nudged her out of her head, not this shell of a man, tentative and terrified of himself.
He was staring down at her, not even smug about his win, when she finally decided to do something about it, the only way she knew how.
She reached up, tenderly caressing the bandaged side of his face, watching as his eyes widened slightly in surprise, a wave of warmth passed through her when he leaned into her touch. As her fingers drifted from his face, she looped an arm around his neck, used the leverage to pull herself up, and pressed her lips against his mouth plates. (A rough, bristley texture with ticklish friction.) She could feel his mandibles flutter against her jaw, felt as his body tensed at her abrupt affection. And when she broke away, his mandibles hung in an awkward position she knew conveyed surprise.
For a moment he simply stared, piercing her with that predator gaze.
Yet, before she could start wondering what the hell did I just do, his forehead met her own, in an eager, almost desperate action. All preamble dropped when she returned the gesture, and he slipped one arm under her torso, lifting her from the ground until she was flush against his cowl, chest-bone raking the space between her breasts. Immediately, he caught on and lowered her – so gently she could cry – to the mats, where he hovered for a moment, staring from above as if seeing her for the first time.
The scritch scratch sound of peeling Velcro, and she realized he'd removed his gloves. Gentle talons graced her face, brushed against her lips. So sweet, so tender, from wicked looking claws, hard plates, a man evolved for war.
The head-bump gesture returned, another fast, desperate action. A man drowning, scrambling for a raft, for warmth. With their foreheads still touching, she pressed up and in, hoping she was doing this right.
Their breathing quickened, faster and faster, until both were panting heavily. Somewhere along the line, his talons found their way to her waist, where they reverently caressed her belly through the fabric. He tore himself from their forehead bump, and licked along her neck. His tongue was wet and rough. It clung to her skin as it dragged from her collarbone to just behind her ear, eliciting moans deep in her throat. And he grew bolder as a result.
A breath later, all while repeating the slow, torturous lick, he began toying with the hem of her tank top.
"So soft?" He murmured as the pads of his talons shivered across her waist. Leathery, calloused.
She answered with a kiss, once more relishing the rough hewn plates that comprised his mouth. He gasped. While she, invited by the opening, flicked her tongue along the top of his mouth plate. A rumbling vibrated through him, and she ventured deeper, wanting nothing more than to prolong the moment - the moment in which he was Garrus again.
Without thinking, her tongue roved over his teeth and, in that instant, she realized her mistake. The taste of copper filled her senses. Her tongue snagged on something sharp, hard. She panicked, feeling like a fool, and instead of carefully extracting the muscle from his razor-like teeth, she yanked back, nearly tearing it in two.
She barely had the time to realize what just happened when a high-pitched keening sound caught her attention. It was Garrus, whose breathing was replaced by a steam whistle. Realization hit her, and she biotically launched him into the elevator, slamming her fingers against her com in the next second.
Mordin answered but her words were so garbled, thanks to her mangled tongue, that he didn't understand a word. The elevator lurched, and she barreled through the corridor, heedless of the stares, biotically levitating a suffocating Garrus alongside her.
She stumbled into the lab, blood cascading from her mouth, staining her shirt, and literally threw Garrus onto the exam table.
Mordin blinked, his large alien eyes flicked between her and the lump of turian, while she screamed "help him," in an incomprehensible blob-sound.
The salarian flew into action. simultaneously using a knife and plate spreader, he jabbed Garrus with one then two, large needles and the wheezing gradually subsided. The moment she heard a solid, clear breath, she collapsed with relief, sitting down hard on some crates against the far wall.
Mordin was setting up an I.V. when Garrus grabbed his arm with one hand, pointed at her with the other, then gave the doc a heavy shove in her direction. "Help her."
"Yes yes. Momentarily." Mordin straightened himself, returned to the exam table. "Once vitals stable."
Garrus didn't seem to like that, but he was too weak to do much about it.
Mordin, satisfied with the more critical of the pair, turned to Jane with a smile that made her stomach drop.
"Most interesting injuries," he commented while delving into her mouth with a mirror and a wicked looking needle. "This anesthetic. Quick pinch."
She braced herself, yet nothing alarming happened, aside from Mordin continuing to run his mouth.
"Injuries from cross-species mating attempt. Yes?" He did not wait for a reply. Not that she could give one, considering her predicament. "Have many solutions for allergic reactions. Antihistamine shots and tablets readily available. Still need other precautions with method, however. Dual chirality condoms…"
Garrus made a strangled sound and nearly fell off the exam table.
"…would be necessary with said method. However, recommend immunotherapy coupled with dietary exposure for… Archangel …" now he was having fun, "given severity of reaction." He tied off the final stitch and extricated himself from her mouth. "Fascinating. No allergic reaction. Total dextro immunity unheard of in humans. Possibly artificial? Yes! Yes! Indicates Hegemony planning to attack turian space. Problematic. Will need blood sample to confirm."
He didn't wait a second, merely produced some tubing and a butterfly needle without a second's hesitation. "Back on topic!"
Oh, by the four, no.
"Copulation possible. However, would warn against," he coughed into his hand, eyes bulging slightly with the gesture, "ingestion until certain of immunity. Also chafing. May need analgesic. Come see me after."
The tube filled. The blood draw was finished and the second the needle flaps clicked, indicating the contraption disengaged, she bolted from her seat.
Garrus had similar ideas and was already standing several feet from the exam table, speechless, with his mandibles practically welded to his face.
And Mordin just kept talking. "Free to go. Imagine talk necessary. Especially with species differences to account for. Have diagrams if necessary."
They sped from the lab, nearly falling over one another as they clambered into the elevator. Both silent for the entire journey to their room.
The second the door closed behind them, Garrus flew into a frenzied speech. "Spirits I'm sorry! What on Palaven came over me? Jane! Oh Jane I'm so sorry. Sometimes turians with… well fighting and mating trigger the same hormone…. Not that I'm excusing it. But I must've… I got carried away. I…"
She opened her mouth, intending to refute this lunacy, only for her tongue to betray her. "Oooff ddudding rorrry out."
Fuck me. Now Garrus looked as though he were on the verge of panic. She spotted one of her notebooks on the ground, and quickly snatched it, pulling out the pencil she habitually left wedged between the spirals.
You have nothing to apologize for! Or did you forget the part where I'm the one who started things?
She handed the pad to him, and watched as his mandibles bounced against his jaw in reading.
Bounce. Flex. Bounce. Flex.
She took the notebook back, it slid easily from his talons. Loose, stunned.
You've been awfully tense Garrus. I was trying to help. Still could.
She flipped the page to face him.
"You want to … play cat-cat again?"
Shaking her head, a coy smile on her lips, she scribbled.
I was thinking about a different kind of match. Like the one we were exploring before the near death experience.
This time she handed it back, and watched as his mandibles took on a life of their own. One veered away from his mouth, spread to what looked like a smile, the other roved in tight circles. She bit her cheek, surprised at the anxiety worming its way through her gut. What did that mean? It was a turian expression she'd never encountered before.
"Oh. Oh, I…" he coughed into his hand, glanced away. "Suppose I shouldn't be surprised you have a thing for men with scars." He turned to her, steely eyes roving over her body, making her shiver every time they paused. "Why the hell not? There's no woman in the galaxy I respect more. That is… if we could figure out how to make it … w-work."
She stepped closer.
"Mordin certainly seemed to think it… that it could work." His voice tittered. "What I mean is … I-I'm… I'm definitely game."
Another step.
"I… I'd have … to do… some research. To figure out how we'd… how we'd … you know."
A final step and she could feel the warmth he exuded, the soft fabric of his shirt barely a hair's width from her face.
"Spirits, that sounded… bad."
The shirt he was wearing was still unfastened, overlooked after the debacle with Mordin. It hung loosely around his cowl. She slipped a hand underneath, resting her palm against his chest. The plates felt like living armor. Hard. Rough. Warm.
He reached out, tentatively running the back of a talon up and down her arm. "How are you so soft?"
45 minutes since the medi-gel injection. Her tongue was sore, the words slurred, but they were understandable. "You've never touched a human before?"
"Not without gloves… and usually they were wrist clasps or a slap on the back. Plus, they were all male. My mind was in a different... Oh, that's nice."
She had taken to running both hands vertically across his chest, heading lower and lower until she found the pliable hide of his waste. Immediately, he stiffened, grabbed her wrists, engulfing them both in one, massive paw.
"Oh," her face fell. "Sorry I didn't mean… I take it that feels bad?"
"Quite the opposite." He answered, voice strained.
She smiled. It was dangerous.
"You are… trouble, aren't you?"
"Only the best kind."
He chuffed, coughed, but it was a poor coverup for the growl. Something low. Something deep. It rumbled from his chest, filled her with heat. "I was thinking… we could watch a movie. Like normal but… well…"
"Same bed?" She finished.
"Yeah."
Despite the fact they'd done this before, it was a little awkward. Suddenly, everything had meaning, every gesture a suggestion.
Garrus settled in the bed first, and Jane climbed in after. First he tried sitting up with his legs flat against the mattress, but it didn't have enough give for his spurs. A couple pillows under the knees took care of that issue, however. Then he tried draping an arm over her shoulders, but the weight was too heavy for her small frame. So he wound up slipping it under her back, pulling her closer, until she rested her head against his chest.
They laid there for hours, neither speaking, both exhausted from their rendezvous in the gym. For once, they quietly watched a movie. But it was a calm silence, filling her with warmth and peace.