"Normandy's docked up at the orbital station," Steve told Val, spinning his half-empty glass idly. "Took some damage during the battle for Earth."
"How serious?" she asked over the clamor of conversation. The Halfway Bar, as some marines had started calling it, was packed tonight, mostly by humans and turians, though she'd spotted a few salarians mixed in, and a couple of krogan doing shots over at the bar.
"Mostly during the retreat," Steve said. "Had to make an emergency landing. The SR-2 was never built to handle a gravity well like that, so she's up at the station for repairs. Are you interested in ships, Commander?"
Val shrugged, deliberately casual. She needed not to look too eager, or desperate. Definitely not desperate. When she'd stolen the Normandy before, it had actually been her ship. Plotting to steal a ship without authorization or access was another ballgame entirely, and she needed every scrap of information she could get.
At the other end of the long booth, Talitha was telling James some story that required a lot of hand-waving and explosion sound effects. Misha, sandwiched between James and Steve, seemed to be drifting from one conversation to the other. Alex and Garrus hadn't even arrived yet. They'd probably have to pull up more chairs.
"I'm a marine first," she said, to Steve's query. "But the Normandy's special."
"I'll say." Steve drank. "Best ship in the fleet."
"I didn't think Terra Nova had an orbital station."
"It used to be small, just a bit of security for the colonists and mining companies. Most of it went up fast, after the attack on Eden Prime, or so I hear. They hoped it would encourage the colonists to stay. The station expanded a lot in the war, but it still doesn't have enough repair bays for what's in-system. They set up extra facilities on that asteroid, too."
"X-57?" Val asked, startled. The sharp black horizon line of the asteroid flashed through her mind, and the planet, looming before them, too large, too bright, and her hands, white-knuckled on the Mako's controls. Her jaw had ached for days afterward from clenching it.
Steve blinked in surprise. "That's the one. You have quite a memory, Commander."
Misha was looking at her curiously, too. Val tried to look relaxed. "Just one of those random things, I guess."
"Yeah, strange what people can remember sometimes." Steve's eyes went vague and unfocused for a moment, and then he shook his head. "What was I saying? Anyway. Ships too big to land, which is most of them, have to use the orbital repair docks. There aren't enough repair crews, either. I hear since the relays are operational, any ships safe to make the jump or heading elsewhere for more extensive work."
"Assuming there are shipyards elsewhere," Val said.
Steve snorted. "That's definitely a problem. Here's hoping there's something out there that the Reapers missed."
"Do you know if the Normandy's good to fly?" Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Misha sigh and slump back in his seat. James laughed uproariously at something Talitha said.
"She got us here," Steve said. "Drive core's fine as far as I know. Damage was mostly to hull and thrusters. Some electrical systems got overloaded. I'm not sure where repairs stand now. They're not briefing a lowly lieutenant." He cocked his head curiously. "Mind telling me why you're asking?"
She just wanted to know how her ship was doing. And whether the Normandy was spaceworthy, if Val needed her. Val shrugged again, taking a drink to buy herself a moment. "Just curiosity, I guess. She's too good a ship to sit idle for long."
"That's for sure," Steve said. "Don't know if they've assigned a new captain, though. Or a pilot. Whoever it is will have a tough act to follow, on both counts."
Misha nudged Steve with his elbow. "Hey, mind getting me another drink?"
"Sure, no problem." Steve finished his own and stood, taking the two glasses back toward the bar.
Misha crossed his arms and looked at Val reproachfully.
"What?" she asked, prickling under his scrutiny. He couldn't possibly suspect anything, could he?
"Are you going to monopolize the conversation all night?"
"What? No, what's the problem?"
Misha sighed. "If you get him started on ships, he'll keep going for hours, Val. Let me get a word in edgewise sometime, okay?"
"Oh," she said, and "Oh!" as it sank in. She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. "Sorry, am I interrupting? Are you trying to put the moves on him?"
"There are no moves," Misha said firmly. "I'd just like to have a conversation with an interesting and attractive guy, all right? Stop smirking at me."
"Sure." She tried and failed to control her expression. "Sure. I'll just move over a seat, shall I?"
"You don't have to move, just maybe don't talk quite so much."
Val stuck out her tongue. Misha rolled his eyes at her. She would have said something else, but Garrus's looming appearance at her elbow distracted her.
"Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all," she said.
"No, come on, that seat's free," said Misha, waving at the seat next to Val.
Garrus settled into it easily and murmured greetings around to the rest of the table. "How was your debriefing?" he asked Val.
She shrugged and took a drink. "About what we expected." She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "About what you expected, at least."
"Mmm." Garrus took a drink, too. From the angle of his head, she was pretty sure he was scanning the room with his visor. He looked casual, in civvies instead of armor, even, but in her experience, he always had his eyes open for trouble. "Not a positive reception, then, I take it."
"Not overly," she agreed.
He nodded slightly.
"What's up?" James said from the other side of the table, propping an elbow and leaning toward them. "You planning something, Commander?"
"Nah." Val waved him off, flashing a smile. "Waiting on orders."
He sat back with a grunt, seemingly satisfied.
"So you've all been on missions together?" Misha asked, frowning like he was trying to figure something out.
Damn. Hopefully Steve would get back to the table soon and distract him. Val glanced at Garrus, who watched her with his head tilted.
"A few," he said.
"Huh. So it's a cooperative thing with the Hierarchy?"
Val and Garrus exchanged looks again. His mandibles twitched in amusement, though she guessed no one else would recognize that. Maybe James. "You could say that," she said.
"Huh." Misha sat back, brow creased.
Val kept smiling, hoping they'd managed to deflect Misha's curiosity. She didn't like having to be so evasive with her little brother. His baffled expression was familiar enough that even this adult version of him didn't seem like a stranger.
Steve returned then, fortunately for her nerves, but he was frowning as he passed Misha his glass.
"Something wrong?" Val asked.
"Those krogan are being a little belligerent." He tilted his head toward the two krogan at the bar. One of the two pounded a fist and bellowed something; the other krogan scoffed, rocking back on his feet.
"They are krogan," Garrus said. "Belligerent goes with the species."
"Yeah, I know, just..." Steve shrugged. "You know how Wreav was talking, about making the whole galaxy pay for the genophage."
"Wreav? That blowhard?" James shook his head. "Why worry about that asshole?"
"He's in charge of the krogan," Steve pointed out.
Garrus froze for a second, unblinking.
"He is?" James said, and shrugged. "I mean, I guess." He scowled at his bottle of beer for a moment.
Garrus's mandibles twitched. "Wreav's a lot of bluster. I wouldn't take him too seriously."
"If you say so," Steve said doubtfully.
Misha nudged his shoulder. "Hey. No need to worry about it now, right?"
"Sure." Steve smiled.
"Wreav?" Val said to Garrus in an undertone, trying to ignore her brother and her shuttle pilot flirting right across the table from her. She wracked her brain, trying to piece together what she'd picked up earlier. "I thought Wrex was in charge?"
"He was," Garrus muttered, equally quiet. "Though if reality can change on a whim, I guess all bets are off."
"That's great." Val bit back the urge to swear, stealing another look at the two krogan, now laughing uproariously and slapping each other on the shoulders. "That's all we need."
"The thing is, krogan have numbers, but no ships," Garrus said. "They haven't had a space fleet since the Krogan Rebellions. They're itchy for one now. The Hierarchy's been stalling them."
"They'll get it somewhere else," Val said. "Out of salvage, maybe. From Omega, or the Hegemony."
"Yeah, if the batarians had anything left." Garrus's brow plates pulled down. "I'll double-check Hierarchy intel in the morning. Make sure the galactic status quo is what we think it should be."
"Might want to do that on a regular basis," she said. "I'll see what I can get from the Alliance, too."
Garrus nodded. From the end of the table, Talitha shot them a questioning look. Val couldn't muster up a reassuring smile. Were there any limits to the Leviathan's ability to tinker with reality? If they could make things change, could she count on anything being the same tomorrow as it was today?
She needed to get out there and find them. She needed her ship. Val glanced toward the door, half-hoping Samantha had arrived.
No luck on that score, though she spied Alex making his way toward them.
Trouble was, everything she'd come up with was going to take time. Time to get EDI on board, time to steal access codes or hack their way through security. Time just to fill out the crew she needed to pull this off. She hadn't even figured out how to talk to Steve or James about this yet without sounding deranged. They might be her friends now, but one slip and they could be reporting her to the brass, like dutiful Alliance marines. Or she'd have to find a way to incapacitate them, and that — she didn't know if she could bring herself to do that.
So she had to get it right, the part where she explained and got them on board. Only one shot at it.
No pressure, or anything.
"Everything okay?" Garrus asked quietly.
"Great," Val said through a forced smile. She glanced up as Alex pulled a chair up to the table, between Garrus and Talitha. "How's it going?"
Alex slouched into the chair and drained half his glass. "Dead ends. Lots of them."
Dark circles sat heavy under his eyes. Part of Val wanted to tell him to get out of here and get some rest. The frantic part of her wanted to haul him aside and demand details.
Later. To judge from the way Alex was blinking, he wouldn't last long, so long as she kept him away from caffeine. For now, they should both try to relax. It was important to blow off steam, she reminded herself. Even in a crisis. She took a breath, took a drink, and tried to take some comfort in the company of her friends and family. Garrus at her side, and Talitha leaning over to whisper something in Alex's ear, and James and Steve bantering back and forth over Misha's head now, while Misha leaned closer to Steve's shoulder. It was the next thing to a miracle that they were all here at the same table. She should appreciate it while it lasted.
The tension in her back and shoulders wouldn't ease, though. In the back of her head, a dark little voice seemed to whisper that she could wake up tomorrow and find all of this too changed, all her efforts to plan warped as reality changed around her. Or maybe her enemy would get it right this time, and she'd forget, too, fade into the background and let the world move on without her.
Maybe she'd waited too long already, frozen into indecision.
A resounding crash made her jump. Breaking out of her gloomy thoughts, Val turned toward the noise. So did everyone else that she could see.
One of the krogan had shoved the other and sent him sprawling, knocking over a barstool and its occupant in the process. The downed krogan snarled and surged up off the floor, faster than anything that big had a right to move. He stopped, feet planted, jutting his head toward the other.
"Come on," the other one growled. "Quadless. Humpless."
The first krogan bared his teeth in a wide, jagged line. "You shoulda run away like the Nakmor. Weak."
"Hey," said the bartender. Her voice wavered She fumbled beneath the counter for a weapon, but hesitated, stiff and wary. Reasonable. One shotgun blast might just put one or both krogan in a blood rage, and everything would go downhill from there. The human who'd fallen from their stool scrambled away from the two krogan.
The other krogan spat something guttural that Val's translator couldn't catch. That couldn't be good. She stood up.
"Shepard," Garrus said, with a note of warning. Val kept her eyes on the two krogan, who'd locked eyes with each other and stood braced, unnervingly still. Around the room, a few other people got to their feet — James was halfway out of his seat, a couple of turians, a few other burly humans — but people seemed less willing to throw themselves into the path of two angry krogan than they had been to take down one armed human, the night before. Funny, that.
Val knew she could get there faster than anyone else could. She took two steps to the side, which gave her a clear line toward the bristling krogan and hurled herself straight at them.
She might have heard Garrus sigh, as if he'd been expecting this.
But by that point, she was already across the room, the dark energy channel throwing her between the two krogan, just like she'd planned. The aftershocks pushed both krogan back a step and rattled the glassware on the nearby counter.
"Hey," Val said, smiling broad and tight to show most of her teeth. "Whatever your trouble is, why don't you boys take it outside?"
The one with the orange crest snarled at her, the corners of his mouth curling. "Out of my way, filthy pyjak. When Wreav gets done with you humans —"
Yeah, that's the way she thought this was going to go. Good thing she'd handled obstreperous krogan before. She wound up, bracing herself, and slammed her forehead square into the slope of his crest.
The krogan staggered backward, eyes wide and unfocused, more with shock than with pain. The shock spiked down Val's neck, too, but she kept her teeth bared. Gasps rippled through the rest of the crowd. She ignored them.
"Get out," she suggested.
The krogan stared at her for a long moment. She stared back, in spite of his wide-spaced eyes. His lip curled, and then sagged. He blinked, ducking his head and shoulders, accepting her authority.
The other krogan brayed with laughter until Val pivoted to turn her smile on him. "You too," she said.
He smirked at her. "I like your style, human. Don't worry, I'm going."
The other one was already slinking toward the door. The second one followed him, casting one long grinning look around the room before strutting out.
Once the door had shut behind them, Val realized that she'd become the bright pinpoint focus of all the eyes in the room. Her skin flushed and then chilled under all that attention. Cheers erupted from several corners, James was grinning at her, and both of her brothers looked at her as if she'd grown a second head.
"Thanks," said the bartender.
"No problem," Val said, cautiously rubbing her neck. "Sorry if they didn't pay their tab."
The bartender shrugged. "Well, they didn't break anything, or anyone. Your drinks are free, commander."
She made her way back to her table as the usual barroom chatter started up. The guy who'd been knocked over clambered back to his feet as she passed, staring at her like she'd just pulled the sun out of her ass.
"Damn, Lola," James said as she took her seat. "You sure showed them who's got a quad."
Garrus laughed. Val only smiled, still too aware of all the glances turned her way.
Misha, eyes still wide, leaned across the table toward her. "Val. Are you okay?"
"Fine," she said, still rubbing the back of her neck.
"Are you insane?"
She shrugged, wincing when the movement pulled sore muscles. "I know a thing or two about krogan, that's all."
"A thing or..." He sat back, shaking his head. "How?"
"Things you learn when you're N7," James said, nudging Misha with his elbow. "Right, Lola?"
"In your dreams, Mr. Vega," Steve shot back. He gave Val a quick concerned glance. "You really okay, Commander?"
"I'm good." Someone passing with a tray handed Val a glass. "Really."
"She always says that," Garrus said affectionately. "Showing them some krogan discipline, Shepard?"
She sent him a sideways smile. "Got to get through to them somehow."
Laughter went up around the table. Even Misha relaxed enough to join in. Val sat back and drank, eyes widening as the shock of it burned down her throat and buzzed out along her nerves. Much stronger than what she'd been drinking. When she glanced toward the bar, the bartender gave her a half-assed salute before serving the next customer. Val shook her head and cautiously stretched out her neck and shoulders, trying to relax.
It could be her imagination, but something about the vibe of the place felt changed. Maybe it was just relief, to have a disruptive presence out of the way.
But Talitha, even though she was laughing at something James had said, kept darting sideways looks at Val. Looking around the room, she saw that Talitha wasn't the only one. Admiring glances, respectful glances, wary glances; at any moment a good quarter of the people in the room were looking her way, usually just a quick look before returning to their conversations. It felt as though the room had tilted, all attention flowing toward her like water to a drain. Her skin prickled as if a sudden chill had blown across the room.
She knew this feeling, this awareness that everyone was aware of her. After the Battle of the Citadel, Commander Shepard hardly went anywhere without being recognized.
"Shepard?" Garrus said in a low voice.
She shook herself. Her attention had wandered from the conversation. Steve and James were arguing good-naturedly about something now, and she'd lost track of what. "I'm fine," she said quietly.
"You looked lost for a second there."
"Just thinking."
"Deep thoughts?"
She snorted. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."
Garrus had leaned close to her, to keep their conversation quiet. When she turned toward him, his eyes were locked on her, crystal-clear blue and steady. The kind of focus that made her feel like she was the only thing that mattered in the universe. Val swallowed, suddenly keenly aware of his proximity; heat flushed through her and pooled in her gut, steady warmth buzzing under her skin. He was close enough to make out all the fine-grained, hairline scratches in his facial plating, close enough that she could rest her face against his just by leaning a little further.
And here they were in a crowded bar, with half the room looking at her every few seconds, with two of her brothers and her baby brother's girlfriend sitting at the table. To say nothing of James and Steve.
"Anything you want to talk about?"
Her throat tightened. She swallowed, hesitating, conscious of the hubbub of conversation around them. "Nothing serious."
"If you're sure," he said, easing back into his seat.
"Listen," Val said. "Do you want to —" and jerked her head toward the door.
"Do I...?" Garrus' eyes darted sideways, following her movement. "Oh. Yeah. Sure."
They finished up their drinks. Not too hastily, she thought, acting casual and sociable, and one by one made some excuses and headed out. She thought Alex gave them a pointed look as she followed Garrus, but everyone else seemed suitably distracted.
Her skin tingled in anticipation as she walked toward the door. As she reached it, the door opened, and Samantha Traynor walked in. "Oh! Commander."
"Traynor," Val said automatically, and then stopped, an awful cold certainty creeping in to kill her warm buzz. "Were you looking for me?"
"Actually... yes." Samantha glanced around. "Our, um, mutual friend would like to talk to you."
Hell. Val swallowed a curse, and put on a smile. "Well. No time like the present."
Outside, Garrus detached himself from the shadows next to the entrance. "EDI?"
"Yeah," Val said, relieved she didn't have to explain.
"Want me to come along?"
"Sure," Val said, and then had a thought. "As long as you get along with EDI, that is."
Garrus laughed. "EDI and I get along fine."
Garrus was the only one of them with a groundcar, a turian-made vehicle whose seats didn't fit right and felt too far apart, creating too much space between her and Garrus. To distract herself, she told Samantha everything that had happened on the moon, with Garrus chipping in details as they went.
"I don't know what to say about any of that," Samantha said when they were done.
"I can't blame you," Val said.
"What are you planning to do?" Samantha asked. Her voice wavered a little, in the darkness of the car.
"Figure out where the Leviathan are and stop them," she said, projecting confidence. "Hopefully EDI can help us." She'd managed to sound strong and reassuring, or at least she hoped so.
"Hopefully," Samantha echoed, and fell silent for the rest of their trip.
Inside Samantha's office, a light indicated that her comm line was on, but no image showed on the screen.
"We only do audio," Samantha explained. "Saves bandwidth. EDI? They're here. The commander, and Garrus, too." She gestured for Val to take the seat at the desk.
"Hello, Garrus. Commander Shepard," EDI said.
"Hi, EDI," Garrus put in. "Uh... how have you been?"
"I am operating within a normal range of functionality. I am arguably under-utilized while the Normandy is under repair."
Val frowned, trying to parse that. It sounded as though EDI was bored.
EDI continued, "Commander, Specialist Traynor said you wanted to speak to me. I am, however, curious how you came to be aware of my existence."
Even listening hard, Val couldn't read anything into EDI's voice. The AI sounded as cool and collected as usual. Calm. Dispassionate. A lot calmer than Val felt. This mattered too much, and she didn't have any handle on what EDI was thinking. "Hi, EDI. Samantha probably told you I was from an alternate reality."
"She did. I wanted to hear what you would say."
Val moistened her lips, considering her words carefully. "It turns out that's not quite correct. I'm from an altered version of this reality. My brother — I think you know my brother —"
"Alexander Shepard. Yes."
"He believes that a species called the Leviathan are re-writing reality for their own ends. In the reality I remember, I'm Commander Shepard. The Commander Shepard. The Normandy was my ship, and you were part of the Normandy, just like now. The Leviathan changed all of that."
"And created an entirely different Commander Shepard?" EDI said. "While leaving other galactic events intact?"
Val winced, even though EDI's tone was still neutral. "I know it sounds outrageous."
"It is difficult to believe, yes." There was a minuscule pause. "Tell me about these Leviathan."
She glanced at Garrus, who shrugged and nodded.
So she talked about the Leviathan, how she'd first encountered them through Bryson's research, how she'd chased them down in the midst of the war, how she'd half-regretted finding them in the end. She told EDI about the geth and their artifact, about the one Liara must have had, about the attacks on her. She talked until her mouth was dry, and Samantha silently brought her a glass of water.
"That is an extraordinary story, Commander," EDI said.
Garrus cleared his throat. "It's true. From what I saw, and from the memories the Reaper unlocked for me."
"Are you sure the Reaper did not implant false memories in your mind, Garrus? Perhaps copying them from the commander's memories?"
"Copying them while changing the perspective to mine? Giving me memories of things she wasn't there for? That doesn't seem very likely, does it?"
"None of this seems very likely," EDI said.
"That's fair," Val said. "I wasn't sure what to believe myself. I thought I might be losing my mind."
"That would be understandable," EDI said. "I recall Dr. Bryson, however. I assisted John Shepard in Dr. Bryson's lab."
Val straightened, her pulse speeding up. "You did?"
"He asked me to assist in narrowing the array of possible locations for Bryson's Reaper-killer, though we did not pinpoint a single location. We scanned several systems. I also remember his away mission to the mining station. He and Dr. T'Soni were there for nearly two hours. When he returned, he said it had been a dead end, and that there was no further need to pursue the Reaper-killer. There were more pressing considerations, he said. I accepted his judgment."
"Did he bring an artifact back?" Val asked. "Was there one in his quarters?"
"The commander and Dr. T'Soni disabled all my surveillance in both his quarters and hers. I could not say."
Stymied, Val sat back, chewing on her lower lip.
"However," EDI said, her tone still calm and even, "that incident partially corroborates your otherwise implausible narrative."
"Thanks, I think," Val said.
"There is no need to thank me."
Val sighed. "Whether you believe me or not, the Leviathan are a threat. One the Alliance is overlooking."
EDI said, "My threat analysis programming agrees, assuming Bryson's initial reports were correct. It is still difficult to believe an unknown alien species would have the resources to alter reality as you have described."
"People didn't believe in the Reapers, either."
"I was going to say that, allowing for that hypothesis, my threat assessment becomes much more severe. However, I find it understandable that the Systems Alliance should prioritize more mundane necessities."
"Pretending cosmic threats don't exist is what got us into this mess in the first place," Garrus said.
Val said, "I understand it, too, EDI. But I'm afraid of what the Leviathan might be doing while we try to pick up the pieces."
A brief pause. "What are you asking me to do?"
Relief unknotted the back of Val's neck. "First off, we need to find where the Leviathan are now. Your analysis and processing abilities would be a big help."
"I do not see any reason not to assist you in that endeavor," EDI said.
Her tone was still neutral: not confident yet, not willing to promise anything. A careful, qualified offer. Val decided to push, just a little. "Once we know where they are, I'm going to need a ship."
"Are you suggesting I go rogue?"
"Would you?" Val asked. "In a good cause? If we could make things better?"
This time EDI's silence lasted several heartbeats. An eternity, for an AI. When she spoke again, she spoke noticeably more slowly. "I was never programmed to have loyalty to the Alliance," she said. "But let us take things one step at a time."
Val let out a breath. "Good enough."
#
"Okay. One step in the right direction," Val said after they stepped outside, leaving Samantha inside to finish her chat with EDI. At night, this section of camp, with its prefab office spaces, was poorly lit and nearly abandoned. She and Garrus stood alone at the center of a sprawl of dark squat buildings and narrow alleys.
"Mm," Garrus said. "She doesn't want to commit yet."
"But she's willing to help. We know she'll be watching us. Hopefully we can trust that she'll make the right choice based on what she observes." Val frowned, an uneasy thought coming to mind. "Is there anything I should know about her in this reality? Anything that might be different?"
Garrus laughed, a hollow sound. "The last I knew, Wrex was in charge of the krogan. I don't think you can rely on me as a guide any more."
Val turned toward him, trying to read his expression. In the darkness, his face was all shadowed angles, and his voice sounded bleak. Fear and irritation rose in her throat; she needed him not to be riddled with self-doubt right now. "Don't do that," she said, taking a step closer. "I need you for this more than ever. You're about the only thing that made sense in this reality, even before you got your memories back."
"Easy, Shepard," Garrus said. She could see his eyes now, pale in the shadows of his face as he looked down toward her. "All I meant was... if reality is changing under us, none of my memories might be accurate any more."
"Oh. Right." She swallowed, flushing as the righteous intensity ebbed. "You still knew him. The other Shepard."
"I thought I did," Garrus said. "Seems like he kept a lot from me."
"The Leviathan might not have given him much choice." She'd disliked John Shepard from the start, as soon as she found out how he'd done things; but how many of his choices had been driven by the Leviathan, not him? He was like her, a little, as much as she hated to admit it.
"Still," Garrus said.
She sighed and nodded, unable to come up with anything more to say.
Garrus made something between a cough and a laugh. "At least it was a productive interruption."
Val laughed faintly and rubbed the back of her neck, still feeling the embers of that earlier urgency. "Yeah, there's that."
"Still not the best timing, though."
He sounded amused and rueful, unless she was projecting.
She hoped she wasn't projecting.
She gave into impulse and reached for him, sliding her hand around his neck and stretching up to kiss him. A slow, exploratory kind of kiss; she nicked her tongue on one of his pointed teeth before they remembered the trick of it and he tilted his head. His arm curled around her, tentatively at first, then more firmly as she went with it, a sinewy pressure across her back as she leaned into him, rising onto her toes to get the full alien-familiar feel of his body against hers. She dug in her nails along the edges of the scales at the back of his neck, getting a stifled gasp for her efforts.
Good. She'd remembered he liked that.
Garrus pulled away from the kiss slowly. He still held her tight, her arms still looped around his neck. Her lips burned, her pulse pounded in her ears and her fingertips and her belly.
Maybe they hadn't lost the moment after all.
"Shepard," Garrus said, his voice low and rough.
"Garrus," she replied. Her voice came out equally husky.
He sighed, a warm breath against her cheek. She shivered, and made up her mind. "Know anywhere we can take a little while alone?"
He lifted his head, glancing past her. "Break into an office?"
She laughed in spite of herself. "Nice surprise for whoever clocks in in the morning."
"We can clean up. Or I suppose there's the car." His mandible brushed her forehead as he spoke.
"Wouldn't be the first time." She tightened her grip, remembering light pouring into a rented skycar over the Presidium.
"True." His laughter hummed through his chest and subvocals. She kissed him again, wanting to swallow it down.
They stumbled their way to the groundcar, arms wound around each other, tripping over each other's feet. Garrus fumbled with the latch on the rear hatch while Val tasted the soft, pebbled skin of his neck. When the hatch finally popped open, Garrus stumbled, and she took advantage to push him onto the rear seat of the car and climb in after him. Climb onto him, letting the door automatically shut behind her, closing the two of them into the limited space.
Not as limited as in a human- or asari-made car, though; turian-made groundcars had more leg and head room. Val appreciated that; she only bumped her head once while Garrus struggled himself into a sitting position, pulling her with him.
"If everything's going to change around us —" she said, between kisses to his face and neck, "— I want this again, I want something for us —"
"Yeah." His voice reverberated, low, filling the space. He lifted a hand to her hair and hesitated, until she said, "Go for it," and he tugged it out of its knot, pins scattering while he ran his fingers down the length of it.
Somehow he'd gotten his gloves off already. His hands were warm on the back of her head, and against her skin once he'd worked his way under her jacket and shirt. Hot, even; she imagined his hand print burning into her skin, and groaned, tugging at his shirt. She'd managed to get one clasp undone, but the next resisted, not made for her smaller, thinner fingers.
"That one's always been stiff," Garrus said, just as it gave, snapping back hard enough to sting her fingers.
Val yelped and stuck the wounded fingers in her mouth. She also snickered as his remark registered. "Oh, has it?" Balanced astride his lean thighs, she shifted closer.
Garrus groaned. "Guess I left myself open for that." He reached for her waist.
"You know I always take an opening," she said, and gasped when he unbuttoned her pants more quickly than she ever had and pulled them down over her hips, cradling her ass in both hands. She abandoned his shirt and reached for his belt.
That, at least, came off easier, but it was tricky to get enough of his clothes off while she was also scrambling to help him yank her pants and underwear down. Her boots hit the floor of the car with a thud, and she bumped her head on the roof again, almost biting her tongue in a breathless curse.
She landed back on his lap bare from the waist down, his skin rough under her thighs and the firm heat of him pressing against her.
At the back of her mind, a little voice wondered if they were moving too fast, too far, if they should have talked this out more first. She silenced it, as ruthlessly as she would a whining recruit. She wanted, he wanted, something normal, something right, something that wasn't calamity or crisis or a minefield shifting around them.
She reached between them, fumbling for a moment to line them up properly, and bit her lip as she sank down. As he pressed up and into her, full and hard and right on the borderline of too much. She rose up, shifted, settled down again, discomfort fading. Yes. Better. Garrus gripped her hips and they gradually fell into a rhythm, her jangled nerves settling, her body loosening, and it started to feel good —
She opened her eyes and met his gaze, his eyes pale and clear, locked on her face. She leaned forward, pressing her brow against his, and they held there for a long, tight-strung moment, where nothing mattered but the two of them.
She shuddered through her climax, eyes squeezed shut, and crumbled, her head dropping to Garrus's shoulder while he found his own release. She stayed, boneless, her hair down around her shoulders, while he relaxed under her, their breath slowing down as they cooled off.
"It's weird," Garrus mumbled into Val's hair.
A moment's worry spiked through her haze. She lifted her head. "What's weird? Not... this?"
He laughed, a puff of warm air against her ear. "No. Not this. When reality changes. No one else seems to notice, except you and me."
"And Alex," she said automatically. "Because of what happened on the moon, I thought."
"And everyone else, their reality just changes, and they don't even know it. How many times did that happen before? Were there other things you noticed?"
She frowned and pulled back. Absorbed in the warm glow, her brain didn't want to re-engage, like a recalcitrant engine. "I'm... not sure. Maybe a few. I wasn't always sure if I was remembering things right. But. Wait." She straightened, galvanized, and squeezed Garrus's shoulders. "James."
He tilted his head. "What about him?"
"Remember tonight? He seemed surprised about Wreav, too. And his memories are coming back, but he wasn't on the moon with us. So it can't be that."
"So it's something else," Garrus said.
"Talitha said... I was like a fixed point," Val said. "The Leviathan tried to remove me, and they ended up rearranging things instead. I'm still here." Her heart was pounding again, this time not from arousal. "So what if it's me?"
Garrus's eyes narrowed in thought. He hummed low in his chest. "Things move around you. Hmm. Maybe."
"What if it's... the time he's spent around me?" Val shook her head. "I don't know. I don't like thinking it's all about me, but..."
"But it does seem like maybe it's about you." Garrus's mandibles drew in as he thought. "You might be onto something, Shepard."
She stared at Garrus, wide-eyed. Her hands tightened on his shoulders, his arms firm around her. The weight of the galaxy outside seemed to press in on them, vast and dark.