Garrus sits at the small kitchen table, steaming mug in hand, and watches Jane stand in the light drizzle falling from the gray sky. The colder season has arrived, and brought with it plenty of rain and dreary days, leaving either himself or his mate to be responsible for taking their children's varren, Xero out, down the steps, and closer to the beach to relief himself. Last thing they wanted was another stint of colds at the twin's expense - which is just as well given that, the last time they were sick, Cassia and Damocles had just enough energy to make it a living hell to clean up in their wake.
He shivers at the memory of when they had developed the bad habit of rubbing their noses on everything this first time they got really and truly sick. They've gotten better since then on the few occasions they suffer from the sniffles, but that doesn't leave Garrus in any mood to look forward to more. If it takes himself or Jane taking care of the varren when it's raining, then he'll gladly play a human game called 'rock, paper, scissors' with his wife to see who loses at the cost of going outside in the cold.
This time just happens to be Jane's turn and he can't stop the warm buzz to his harmonics in relief just watching her out there, clearly annoyed with Xero taking his time without a care for the cold drizzle landing on his back.
Taking a sip from his cup, he glances towards the sound of heavy stomps coming down the stairs. He watches as the twins run in, dressed in their swimwear, and swallows as he raises a brow plate. "And where are you two going?"
"Outside?" Damocles looks at him like he's grown another head, the answer obviously something that Garrus should know just by their attire.
Garrus chuckles, setting his mug down and leaning back enough in his seat to let them see as he motions out the window. "You mean out there?" His mandibles flick into a smirk as they follow his gesture. "You mean out in the rain? Because it really sounds like you mean out in the rain."
That seems to cut through their excitement as they look out the window, Damocles growling in a pout as Cassia lifts onto her toes and sets her chin on the table to look out at the - now - rain. Garrus can swear he sees Jane start yelling at the varren, hunching to try and pull her jacket over her head. Why she went outside without a coat with a hood, he'll never know. It looks like he'll have to tend to a pouting wife as well as pouting children, but at least he knows how to cheer her up and it doesn't even have to involve sex. There are always more child-appropriate ways and he's pretty sure this situation calls for that to be in the form of a warm cup of tea, dry clothes, and a warm blanket.
Rumbling, he looks over to his twins and lays a hand on Cassia's head, stroking his thumb over forehead. "Why don't you two go get into something warm and we'll figure out something to do inside." When she looks up to him, he smiles. "I'm nothing if not inventive." She grins and nods, rushing out of the room and up the stairs. Damocles, it seems, is less impressed with his dad's assurances of something equally entertaining as swimming to do. "Damocles," he says, attracting the little one's attention, "Why don't you get back in your pajamas and I'll make some hot chocolate."
"But I like mommy's."
Garrus chuckles, admittedly relieved that he doesn't have to try and make some hot chocolate even if Jane has pre-made a powder for it. All he'd have to do is mix it into hot water, but if his previous forays into cooking can be any indication, then he'd find some way to make it the most disgusting thing the twins have ever tasted. That'd definitely make the day worse for the twins if they think dad is trying to poison them with his horrendous cooking.
And Jane took to it like she's meant for it. I'm not surprised, really. She has a way of accomplishing everything she sets out to do.
"Then I promise I'll get mom to do it." He smiles and glances outside to see Jane stomping up the steps, Xero just as soaked as she is. "Now, you head upstairs and get dressed and I'll do whatever it takes to get mom to make you her special hot chocolate."
Damocles purrs and nods, running towards the stairs and, judging by the sound, stomping up the steps. Huffing a chuckle, Garrus shakes his head at the way such a little child can always manage to make as much noise as a grown krogan and downs the rest of his now lukewarm tea. He stands just as Jane opens the door, cursing under her breath about 'this damn, stupid, pain in my ass varren'. His cup is left on the table as he walks to her and takes Xero from her hands so she can pull off her wet jacket.
"I'll get you some towels if you stay here." Rumbling, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. "Unless you want to wipe up all the water you'll track in?"
"How about I wring your neck unless you help me get out of these wet, fucking clothes." Her tone holds anger, but she's just too adorable for her ire to really have the desired effect and she sighs, slumping. "Fuck, it's cold."
"At least kick off your shoes," he responds with a chuckle and heads to the laundry room to get towels.
Shortly, she follows, her steps light as she clearly tries not to move too much as if walking too heavily will disturb the water absorbed in the fabric of her clothes. He isn't quite sure that's how it works, but he won't tell her his doubts for fear of getting more than a deadly glare. Not long ago, he learned a human saying about any human with the color of hair she has and their tempers, and he's starting to see the truth in it.
Not that he'd ever tell her so and, if he admits, it's all kinds of endearing to see such a tiny human rage around a two meter tall turian.
"You're taking him out next time, you know."
"I don't think it works that way." He laughs at the scowl she throws towards him and grabs some towels off the shelf, tossing her one. They other he uses to wrap Xero in and rub at him to try and dry his hide. Seeing her pouting like their six year olds, he purrs in apology. "I'll only take him if you help me dry off."
She snorts, but a soft smile flickers over her lips. "And what about me? I don't see you helping me dry off." She doesn't see his tender smile because she drapes the towel over her head to rub at her hair. "It's a give and take, you know."
"And I don't deserve to be dried off for going out in the cold? Turians don't like the cold, have I told you that?"
When she swats him, he laughs again and sets down the varren to watch him run off to join his two partners in crime upstairs. Turning to her, he grabs her hand when she moves in for another attack and kisses her knuckles, purring softly.
She scoffs. "Don't you give me that 'turians hate the cold' bullshit." Once as dry as she can be, she tosses the towel at the sensor for the door of the laundry room. "Humans don't really get all hot and horny for rain either."
"Yes, but you have some nice, soft," he starts, dropping his vocals and cupping her breasts, "insulation." He gives a slight squeeze, getting a laugh and squirm out of her.
"Cut that shit out." She pushes his hands away, grinning and cheeks flushed a light pink. They always seem to do that when she comes out from the colder weather in what must be a warming mechanism. "I'm supposed to be mad at you."
Humming, he helps her pull her shirt off, the material heavy with water. "Yes, but you can't remain mad at me. Because you love me."
"I'm starting to question why," she grumbles as she pulls off her bra and tosses it into the hamper.
"How could you not? I'm charming, funny, a hell of a shot-"
"Humble-"
"Yes, humble," he agrees, chuckling to himself as he turns to search the basket of clothes clean and just needing to be folded in search of something comfortable and warm for her to wear. "But you're forgetting my most appealing quality."
"Oh?" Her pants and underwear land in the hamper with a wet smack. "And what's that?"
He waves a hand to motion his face. "How can you not swoon at the sight of me?"
That seems to do it - even if it's at his expense - as she bursts into laughter, then stops a moment, only to begin again more boisterously than before. Sure, it does all sorts of good things to her bare chest, but he can't help but think she's getting too much entertainment out of this. He watches as her face reddens and she cups her stomach, eyes clenched. Admittedly, it makes him laugh on his own, if just at how ridiculous she looks and how happy it makes him feel to see her so relaxed and jovial.
Gasping, Jane wipes at her eye with a hand and reaches for the underwear on top of the pile of clothes in his hands. "Wow… That was a good one." Her voice is hoarse and her breath coming in little gasps. She can barely keep her balance as she bends over to step into her panties.
He snorts at her, rumbling and dragging a talon over her side to make her jump and yelp, bumping her head on his thigh. "So good to see you approve of my good looks."
Snapping the band of her short-looking underwear around her hips, she smirks up at him before grabbing the relaxed shirt from the pile. "Uh huh. Like your ego needs boosting. I swear," she says, tugging the shirt over her head and still talking even if it's muffling some of her words, "You wouldn't be able to fit that big head of yours in the house if you didn't have me around to knock you down a notch every now and then."
He trills in mock hurt. "Jane. You wound me." Scoffing lightly, Jane snatches her pants out of his hands and he happily offers his arm for her to grab onto in order to balance. "It's a good thing you're so adorable."
The sounds she makes could easily be called a squawk as she stumbles a bit and leans on him. "You're an ass. I was just about to say okay to you needing to be dried off, but I think I may just lock the door so you can dry out in the sun on your own."
"You'd miss me," he purrs, smirking as she glances up to him.
She sighs as she tugs her pants up the last bit. "Dammit, you're right. I'd never be able to get things off the top shelf if you're outside."
He laughs at her actually admitting to being short and follows her out of the laundry room and back towards the kitchen. He'd be lying if he said he didn't know her destination, the water heater. "Oh," he says as he remembers his promise. "I may have promised Damocles that you'd make him some hot chocolate."
Jane chuckles as she grabs an extra two mugs for the kids. "I swear, you'd starve if you didn't know how to at least make MREs." She gasps and her eyes widen in an obvious show of mock shock. "Have we finally found something you're not good at?"
"Had to level the playing field," he remarks, that being the end of the conversation as she responds with an exaggerated snort on her way out and towards the kitchen. Damocles and Cassia wait for them, bundled up on the couch under the heavy throws, Xero trying to burrow in to share the heat.
"There's my little terrors!" Jane throws open her arms and cups first Cassia's head to give her a kiss on the top of her head before doing the same to Damocles, though their son squirms under the affection.
"Momma, Daddy said you'd make hot chocolate," he says with a huff, clearly not impressed with the distractions before he gets his hot mug of liquid chocolate.
Never get in the way of children and chocolate of any kind.
"Yes, yes. Love later, hot chocolate first." Jane chuckles as she lets him go and smiles at Cassia, who is less impatient, though still obviously brimming with excitement.
Garrus switches on the vidscreen to keep them occupied at least until he and Jane can think up something to do, then heads into the kitchen to see what he can do to help. Picking up his own mug from the table on his way, he rumbles and grins at her trying to do the very thing she earlier joked about needing him around for, reach for the hot chocolate mix on the higher shelf in the pantry. He stops and leans on the dividing wall between dining room and kitchen. "You look like you're struggling there."
"'You look like you're struggling there'," she imitates, the mocking tone in her voice making her impression less like his own and clearly more high and annoying. "Stop laughing at my pain and get over here to help before I tell the kids you're the reason why they can't have hot chocolate."
"You wouldn't."
"Oh, I really would. Nothing is more frightening than those two when they don't have food."
He huffs a laugh as he easily takes down the glass container of powdered mix and hands it to her. "You can't tell me that's not because of the start of their biotics. There's no way two children that small could eat so much otherwise."
His wife laughs, a mug in one hand and two in the other. How she can hold two in one of those tiny hands is something he's still amazed at, but he'd be suicidal to question it aloud. He'd probably find one of those very mugs aimed for his head.
"I don't think it's just the biotics. You eat a ton of food too." Each mug is set down with a thump and she adds, her eyes taking him in with her lips thinned, "I'm still jealous of that. You eat and eat and you're still stick thin."
If only she really knew what he looked like compared to turian standards, he thinks as he laughs. It's just one of those things that'll never equate, just as he doesn't understand how the styling of human hair can affect the perceived femininity of humans. His waist is far from slim after all the hard work he puts his muscles through in order to carry the weight of his armor effortlessly as if a second set of plates, but he thinks she may actually like it that way. She certainly grips hard enough to dig her agile fingers into the thick muscle and pull sounds out of him he never imagined he could make.
Still, he purrs and lays his hands on her hips, leaning down to nuzzle the top of her head. "I like you like this." He slides his hands higher to squeeze her softer waist, still able to feel the muscles flex as she squirms, but loving the added cushion she's never been able to get rid of since the twins.
She snorts and swats at him, waving a hand towards the water heater when he lets her go. "No amount of flattery will stop my envious glares at you while you shove food down your gullet."
He chuckles and pours the hot water into each mug, filling his own as well. "If that's what it takes for you to stare at me, then I'll be sure to double my intake."
"You're so full of it I'm surprised your eyes aren't brown," she grumbles as she sets a bag of tea into her mug, a spoon of spices in his own, and finally scoops a good amount of chocolate powder into the kids' cups.
As she mixes the hot chocolates, he heads for the fridge to grab her sweetened cream and a fluffy version for the hot chocolates. He has no idea why the three of them love such sugary drinks, but he's not too surprised when considering how she's always needed the sweetness for as long as he's known her. It used to be coffee, but, since she had to cut out the caffeine during pregnancy, he finds her new beverage obsession to much better, if not for the simple fact of it smelling better. That coffee of hers - even with chocolate - always tended to have a scent of something burnt, but he'd be crazy to have ever told her.
Returning just as she taps the spoon against the lip of the second of the two mugs for the twins, Garrus hands her the cream for her tea while he takes over with scooping a generous amount of the white puff onto the steaming hot chocolate. He barely catches a curious look from Jane just before she drops the spoon - and he can swear she does it on purpose. She gives him an innocent look before glancing down to the ground where the utensil now lays.
"Can you get that?" she asks, smiling, and he raises a brow plate. "Please?"
He hums in suspicion, but does as she asks because she seems to be occupied with dipping her tea bag in and out of the water in her cup before it can grow too cold to be completely effective. Crouching, he picks up the spoon and moves it hand it back to her to toss in the sink, seeing a playful smirk on her face just before she taps his nose with a white covered finger. At first, he blinks in surprise before the scent of the cold substance on his nose makes things clearer. Once he figures out she flicked some of the whipped cream on his nose, he chuckles and grabs her chin so she's unable to move as he rubs his nose against hers to share the mess she's made.
Jane snorts and pushes him lightly, rubbing her nose with a finger. "You weren't supposed to rub it off on me." Bringing her finger to her mouth, she cleans it off and he growls playfully.
"You tempt me," he purrs as he wipes his own cream from his nose and licks his finger. "Maybe later you can show me what other things that mouth can do."
"Oh? Sure." She hands him the two mugs for the twins. "I don't know why you like it when I whistle so much, but if you insist."
He cringes at the memory of the piercing sound she calls a whistle. "I was hoping for something much different."
Walking back to the kids, he distantly hears her hum. He's sure she still had some wonderful joke in mind, but he's pretty sure that they'd have to answer to a force more powerful than the Reapers in their two children. As it is, the two are merely peeking over the back of the couch in anticipation and chirp excitedly when they see the prize in his hands.
He purrs and hands the mugs to each of them, their eyes wide in awe as if stunned each and every time they're gifted with such delicious - too sweet for Garrus' tastes - drinks, though they've had this plenty of times each rainy season. Watching as they practically bury their faces in the fluffy topping, he chuckles and shakes his head. "You act like we starve you two," he says with an amused rumble, rubbing Damocles' head because he knows he'll always get a frustrated huff out of his son. Cassia merely smiles up to him, her nose and mouth plates coated in the white cream, which only makes him laugh at how ridiculous she looks.
His daugher grins and trills happily before digging into her hot chocolate once more, leaving Garrus to accept his drink when his wife comes to join them. Surprised that she also hands him her own tea, he lifts a brow in question, but she doesn't speak. She merely smiles in some sort of silent answer before rushing back towards the room that stands as their study and her studio. He has no idea what she's after, but he's somewhat thankful that she seems to have some kind of plan.
Those are usually entertaining, even if they mostly involve breaking things.
He takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch and sets her mug on the small table beside his side of the couch as he relaxes back against the cushions. He considers grabbing the second throw to wrap around himself and start to warm with his own body heat for him and Jane to share, but his attention is drawn away as soon as he sees a glimpse of his mate rushing into the room, arms full of all manner of oddities. Of those, he notices, are her guitar, a large, blank canvas, and bag of something clinking softly.
"What's that?" Grabbing her guitar before she drops it, he sets it down against his leg to watch her reveal her collection.
"Something to do," she merely responds, setting down the canvas on the table and opening the bag. Her work at pulling small jars of color - paint, he figures - and setting them out in a neat line on the table attracts the twins' attention and they sit in rapture, mugs held tightly in their hands. "I figured we could do something besides watch vids all day."
"What's that?" Cassia sets her mug on the table a bit too roughly, some of the liquid spilling and forming a ring around it as she leans over to look at the canvas. "Will we get to paint?" she asks once she recognizes it. "I wanna paint!"
Jane chuckles and nods, pulling out what looks to be the last of her supplies, a small ball of string. That's not something Garrus expected to be a part of this experiment at seeing just how much of their mother's creativity they've inherited. Catching her eyes as she sets it down to take a sip of her tea, he motions it with his free hand. "And the string?"
"How am I supposed to teach them how to play if I can't guide their fingers?"
"You're going to tie their fingers to yours," he says flatly, just imagining the mess they'd make if she ever went to guide her partner to either of their drinks. "I can just see all the great things that'll come out of that idea. He can see half of her grin over the brim of her mug before she takes a sip.
"Can I play?" Damocles asks timidly, almost too quiet to be heard.
Garrus purrs at his son wanting to step out of his comfort zone to try and learn something he has always seemed interesting in watching his mother do. Damocles isn't one to try new things unless dragged into it by his sister out of what Garrus is afraid might be fear of the unknown result. That he'd want to do something completely different from Cassia without being asked is a step towards, Garrus hopes, opening up to a chance to enjoy his barely begun life.
"Of course," his mate says with a smile as she sets her mug down. "Let me get Cassia and your dad started and then we can go."
"Wait," Garrus interrupts, a short trill of surprise coming out of him. "Me?"
"Damn right. I distinctly remember you saying you always wanted to learn how to paint."
"Then you should also remember me finishing that statement by saying 'I paint with Reaper blood'."
She snorts and waves Cassia over. "Yeah, yeah. Well, just use that skill now. I'm sure you won't be that bad at it."
Patting the couch, she directs Cassia to sit up beside him. He sets his mug aside and smiles at his daughter despite his misgivings at this activity Jane's dropping into his lap. Pulling Cassia into his lap, he takes the canvas as Jane lays it in the little one's lap. Like this, Cassia will be able to hold the canvas and he, in turn, will be able to reach the paints without worrying about pushing her off his lap. With one final look over how she's left them, Jane hands each a brush.
"Now. Help us with this," she says and hands Garrus the string and scissors. "Doesn't have to be tight, just enough so that I can lead his fingers."
Damocles seems to be more excited than Garrus has seen him on previous days they were stuck inside because of bad weather, and he tries to tie the little fingers to Jane's as fast as he can. Once they are set, she lays her back against the couch directly beside his legs, situates Damocles between her legs, and pulls the guitar into their tied hands. She begins to talk to him, going through directions Garrus has no idea how to interpret, but Cassia leans back against him before he can listen long enough to try and catch context clues.
"Daddy, paint with me." She gives him a pleading look and he chuckles softly.
"Of course. No more distractions."
The paintbrush feels awkward in his hand, as if not meant for three fingers. He tries to imitate Cassia's grip but, although it looks as close as he's going to get, it just feels wrong. Considering it just something that needs to become accustomed to over time, he waits for her to choose a color of paint - purple, her favorite color - before dipping into the green.
"Okay," he says, trying to draw out the minutes before he has to try and make something, "What do you want to paint?"
She hums in thought before chirping and sitting up straighter, dropping her brush onto the canvas. Garrus watches as she swirls the brush to make five circular blobs in a circular pattern, wondering what the hell he's supposed to do with that when she looks up to him expectantly. Seeming to see his confusion, she giggles. "It's a flower, daddy. Make leaves."
"Right. Sure." He lays the brush under the 'flower' and drags it down the canvas, the line turning out twisted and shaky as the bristles fan out. He thinks he might have put too much pressure and tries to correct it, but only manages to make the stem thicker and even more messy. "I'm not too good at this."
Cassia giggles again and takes the brush out of his hand, holding her purple one in her mouth as she draws ovals along his stem - leaves, he realizes as she fills them in. When she hands him the purple, he clicks his mandibles, sure he'll find some way to mess up the second flower he expects she wants him to paint.
True to his worries, his petals come in different shapes than intended - one even looking suspiciously more like a square than circle while others come out more like elongated ovals. He sighs in defeat and doesn't hesitate when his daughter grabs for the brush to make more flowers on her own. Giving up on his attempts to learn the nuances of art, he glances over to Jane and Damocles at his feet, watching as she seems to have finished her lesson and moved to finding position on the stings for a song.
"I see a train a comin," she starts, Damocles' fingers moving over the strings as she guides them. "It's rollin 'round the bend. And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when. I'm stuck in Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin' on. But that train keeps a rollin' on down to San Antone."
His son flicks his mandibles happily, chirping as he watches his fingers move under his mother's guidance. "When I was just a baby my momma told me son, always be a good boy, don't ever play with guns. But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die. When I hear that whistle blowin', I hang my head and cry."
She takes a longer break of strumming the strings of the guitar, wiggling her foot in time. "I bet there's rich folks eatin in a fancy dining car. They're probably drinkin' coffee and smokin' big cigars. Well, I know I had it comin', I know I can't be free. But those people keep a movin', and that's what tortures me."
Even Cassia stops her painting and kicks her feet in time with the catchy beat and Garrus rumbles at the sight of his son playing at his mother's hands and his daughter happily dancing to it, even if the tune is a bit odd. He just figures it's a human thing to sing about imprisonment. He can't rightfully say he doesn't like the way Jane lowers her voice, creates a forlorn tone that really makes him feel the words, and tries his best to set his vocals to the rhythm.
"Well if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine. I bet I'd move it a little further down the line. Far from Folsom Prison, that's where I want to stay. And I'd let that lonesome whistle, blow my blues away."
As she plays the last few notes of the song, watching their combined fingers over Damocles' shoulder, Garrus hears the high trilling of joy from their son that he's sure Jane can't completely understand at her hearing range. He waits until they're finished before purring and laying his hand on her shoulder, saying, "Well, we now know the kids didn't get any of their artistic skills from me."
Jane throws a look over her shoulder and laughs. "Hey, you did pretty damn good to me."
"You're just flattering me. It was all Cassia."
"Nuh-uh!" Cassia points to his sorry excuse of a flower. "Daddy did this one!"
His wife smiles and nods. "Do you like it?"
Their daughter pauses, looks intently at it, and answers, "No," making both parents laugh full bodied, boisterous laughs.