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As Shepard stepped off the elevator, studying her omni-tool intently, she nearly walked straight into a very tall, very determined turian.
"Oh, no, you don't," Garrus told her.
"No, I don't what?"
"No, you don't spend your entire time on the Citadel working."
"Garrus, I have a thousand things to do!"
"Well, now you have a thousand and one." He put a hand on the small of her back, steering her toward a skycar. "Come on."
"Where are we going?" Shepard asked warily.
"That's for me to know and you to find out."
"You know, every time someone says that to me, I find the most unpleasant surprises lie ahead."
"Now, now, my surprises won't be unpleasant." He chuckled. "Not all of them, anyway.'
"Oh, yes, that makes me feel much better."
"Now, Shepard, don't you trust me?"
She looked at him with narrowed eyes.
"What are you thinking?" he asked.
"How far I could throw you."
"Now that hurts."
"It might. I think I could throw you pretty far."
"You could try," he said dubiously. "But I think it would be easier if you just sat back and enjoyed the ride. Which you can do, because I'm driving."
"I don't know why you all insist on thinking that I can't drive. Or dance."
Garrus glanced at her sharply, and she remembered the night at the club—and how it had ended. But all he said was, "Well, Shepard, maybe we all like to think there are a few things we do better than you do."
"You know there are a lot of things you all do better than I do, right? It's what makes us such a great team." Shepard looked out the window ahead of them and frowned. It appeared as though they were on course to crash into the Presidium. "Where exactly are we going?"
"Somewhere we're not supposed to."
"Some things never change, do they?" She tried not to tense as they came closer, and couldn't hold back a gasp of surprise as Garrus turned the car up so that they were flying along the side of the Presidium. He was right—they definitely weren't supposed to do this.
"Ever have that one thing you always wanted to do before you died, Shepard?"
"Garrus, if that's going to be today, I'd have liked some warning."
He chuckled. "Seriously."
"I've been too busy trying to live. But apparently you had something. What was it? Getting your ass hauled to jail by C-Sec traffic cops?"
"Hardly. But … the whole time I worked at C-Sec, I'd stare up at the top of the Presidium and say to myself: I want to go up there. But I never did. There were 137 regulations telling me I couldn't. Now, though … now I just don't give a damn." He parked the skycar on the top of the Presidium and turned to Shepard. "I figured it's time to do something stupid just for the hell of it. Might be the last chance we ever get."
"You had me till that last part. Don't you go getting all end-of-the-galaxy on me, Vakarian. We have plenty of time left to do stupid things."
They stood together watching the traffic flow by. It was oddly peaceful, Shepard thought.
"It's a little busier than I imagined," Garrus remarked. "I thought, this high up, you'd be just … out of it all."
"How about a dive in the pool?" Shepard suggested, looking at the lake far below.
Garrus looked down as well, and shook his head. "You obviously haven't seen turians swim. It's a lot of flailing and splashing interrupted by occasional bouts of drowning."
"Can't have that. I'd just have to save your ass again, and it's getting awfully tiring."
"Yes," Garrus agreed. "It would almost make up for all the times I pulled your ass out of the fire. Noveria, Feros, Ilos … We've had a hell of a ride, haven't we, Shepard?"
"You don't regret leaving C-Sec?"
"Are you kidding? Not for a minute. I've got your back, no matter what."
"I know it." She looked up at him, feeling a sudden rush of affection for this stubborn, loyal, funny man. "I'll tell you a secret: There's no Shepard without Vakarian."
Garrus cleared his throat, clearly touched by the sentiment. "Hell, Shepard, that's no secret. Everyone knows it." Turning away, he reached a case out of the back of the skycar. "Now, before we head back, there is one thing we're going to have to settle once and for all." He took his sniper rifle out of the case and assembled it with a few practiced movements. "I'm not saying you don't know how to handle a gun, I'm just saying I know how to make it dance." He tossed the rifle to her. "Let's see what you've got, Commander Shepard."
"You know, there are a few people who've seen me in action, Garrus. They seemed impressed." She raised the weapon to her shoulder and sited down the barrel. It was heavier than hers, and he was undoubtedly a better sniper than she was. Still …
"Yes, well, I've actually seen you dance." He smirked at her. "No comment."
"All right, Vakarian, you're going down."
He readied a practice slug, watching for her signal, then flung it far out into the air. Shepard followed the trajectory and squeezed the trigger, knowing even as she did so that the shot would land perfectly.
Garrus glanced at her, narrowing his eyes. "That was an easy one. Let you build up your confidence." He reached for the rifle. "Long range, I wrote the book. Nobody alive can do this—not even Commander Shepard. Give me a tough one."
"You asked for it." She flung the practice slug as far as she could, impressed that his bullet seemed to leap from the gun almost as soon as the slug had left her hands, shattering it easily.
"I said a tough one," he complained.
"Yeah, yeah. Step aside."
He readied the slug, and she readied the rifle. Even as she looked down the barrel, waiting for him to release the slug, she remembered what he had said, about her people wanting to know they did something better than she did every once in a while. "Do it," she said, and then waited that extra beat, that extra breath, after the slug released, that said she would just miss it. For a moment, she was worried he would realize what she'd done, but as soon as the slug sailed harmlessly through the air and dropped to land in the lake far below, Garrus flung his arms over his head and gave a whoop of victory.
"I'm Garrus Vakarian, and this is now my favorite spot on the Citadel!"
"It's windy up here," Shepard said mildly, feigning disgust with herself as she laid the rifle on the case.
"Uh-huh. Sure it is. You know, Shepard, I think I'm going to erect a monument right here—bronze this gun so the whole galaxy knows."
"Yep, you are the king of the bottle-shooters. I'm glad to have you around, Garrus. After all, you never know when the bottles may revolt."
He laughed. "Come on, I'll let you get back to the thousand less important things you had to do."
"Garrus?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"Anytime, Shepard. Anytime."