Hey guys. I promise the next few chapters won't comprise so much of flashbacks. That is, unless you guys like them.
I feel like they're necessary but they can hinder plot development. :\

Anyway, enjoy the chapter and please review! We hit another record for views last night and I was so happy, but I only got like two reviews. :((

xoxo

THR

Chapter 12

Things had to go according to the plan.

If they didn't, the entire relationship that you had worked so hard to forge would be gone. You knew it.

Things now were different than they were months ago. You didn't know the words to use to describe her before; "bitchy" would too brash, but it was the truth. You had been vastly different, too. Things had changed now, though. She had learned to be less aggressive and rigid around you. The constant badass façade was gone; in fact, the two of you had shared drinks more than a few times while on break. You talked about trivial things, such as Dr. Chakwas' ironic brandy obsession as well as EDI's humanlike mannerisms. Your childhoods and home lives also came under discussion.

She had been, to your surprise, Earthborn and had lost contact with her parents when she had enlisted. You had told her of the escapades you had had with your own honorable family, notably with your sister. The two of you laughed and laughed, and it felt like the both of you were starting to let down your shields piece by piece. The process was slow and you had no intention to rush it.

While you had taught her to lower her own pace a little, she had taught you to act artless off of the battlefield. Spontaneity was a hard concept for you to learn when it didn't involve a sniper and a few nifty attachments. Whether it was goofing off in a bar or pulling each other aside to share a kiss, you had learned the ropes when it came to being spur of the moment. You hadn't impressed her yet, but you hoped that you would be able to tonight.

Your rapport with the notorious Commander Shepard had pushed past the fling stage. Whether you were flying to the Citadel to take a shore leave or fighting alongside each other against Collector bastards, the two of you had formed a permanent bond. You were still sure that it was love, but you couldn't pull words out of her mouth until she said them herself.

You looked around one more time and made sure that everything was in check. It was a vile Turian habit that you couldn't drop; triple-checking things and making sure that a job was well done was embedded in your genes.

You had traded your armor for civilian clothing, which you had been obsessively smoothing out since you arrived in Shepard's personal cabin. Music that you had chosen based on her apparent tastes was waiting to be played in the stereo. The wine in your hand wasn't the expensive kind that you thought she liked, but it was chilled to perfection and was something that the two of you could hopefully enjoy. And, most importantly, you had checked with Mordin and learned about the proper way to fornicate a relationship with a human. The whole concept didn't seem as slick and straightforward as you wanted it to be. In fact, it felt like the whole thing was going to be stiff and uncomfortable for the both of you.

The action itself was the same in Turian culture, but the way it was performed in an inter-species courtship was undoubtedly awkward. The hyper Salarian had been glad to assist you; he provided everything from the likes of vids, diagrams and reports written by well-known relationship scientists and psychologists. The expressions he gave you while he handed off the research were unsettling ones which you didn't comment on. He also didn't forget about reminding you of the embarrassing allergic reactions that could follow once the deed had been completed.

As much as you had hated to admit it, you studied the hell out of the notes while you were calibrating the Normandy's guns. Watching the vids led to you having a shaky hand sometimes, which you worked hard to suppress.

Needless to say, although you lacked a human fetish unlike some others in your species, you weren't turned off to the idea of sleeping with them. They had soft curves unlike Turians. Some of the women had figures like hourglasses, which did happen to make you feel a bit attracted to them. You had never looked at human anatomy before, and once you got over feeling dirty about it, you were well versed in what humans found irresistible.

The lighting was perfect and all you could do now was wait. Breaking into a commander's private quarters was forbidden, but you were hoping that you had gotten a free pass inside by now. This was a surprise, after all.

You doubted that she would really want a surprise right now. The supposed "suicide" mission was impending, and the fate of the entire crew was resting on her shoulders. For the past few months, Shepard had led the crew all across the galaxy in search of resources and recruits to fly under the Cerberus flag. Now the sole thing that was left to do was enter the infamous Omega 4 Relay to stop the Collectors. She had spent most of her free time researching the ominous race, and it was clear that she was determined to get this mission right. After all, she had to. She couldn't tolerate failure.

Constant questioning from everyone had taken a toll on her. She was coming to see you more and had gotten more intimate when she wasn't busy studying. Her movements became gentler, yet her capricious streak was also coming out in battle more than it should have.

She was slipping and you hoped to the spirits that she would be able to hold on until the end.

Your name was Garrus Vakarian, and you were going to do anything that you could to help her.

You stood in the shower alone.

With nobody around to hear you or help you up, you allowed your uncovered body to slide down the glassy walls and onto the ground. Beads of water fell around you like an old rain shower on Earth, and you kept on telling yourself that the droplets running down your cheeks were not coming from your own eyes.

Did you even deserve this shower? Everyone else on the crew had to share. Why should you get one of your own?

As you sat on the floor, you traced the tiles below you with your pointer finger. It trembled while it outlined the grout, and you realized that being so fickle with your emotions was pointless.

You hadn't set the course for Omega 4 yet. You could wait.

You could wait for everything and then just disappear while you docked on some planet. You didn't care where it was. Hell, it could be a gas giant for all you cared. You deserved to have your body inflated with toxins like a sick balloon. The crew would watch you burst from the windows of the Normandy and would feel relief as they walked away.

Your eye became clouded with liquid again.

No.

They didn't feel that way. They weren't faking it. You were just hallucinating.

Your name was Commander Shepard and you were not good under long term stress. Unfortunately, running the behind the scenes Cerberus invasion on the Collectors fell into the category of "long term". This entire mission was your responsibility, and you had turned unreasonable in the recent days. It was only a matter of time before you launched the Normandy on a suicide mission that couldn't be stopped. You weren't afraid for yourself; you were afraid for your crew. They had been abducted a week ago and were god knows were by now. That had been your fault.

Being in battle was different than making decisions. You were a warrior and tactician on the theatres of war. When it came to offshore decision making and choosing which sacrifices to take, you had to be hasty. If you weren't, your mind was plagued with paranoia and doubt.

You let a few sobs out and pretended like they never happened. If nobody was there to hear you, it wouldn't matter. Good commanders cried, didn't they?

No, they didn't. You knew that for a fact.

You bet that Garrus didn't even cry.

When his name popped up in your mind, you let out a sob for his sake.

It was safe to say that that Turian had changed you in the past few years that you had known him. You didn't know how to describe your relationship; it was passionate yet safe.

Surprising yet stable.

New yet experienced.

You had trusted him with your life while you fought on the front lines. Now, though, you would be willing to trust him with your own sanity.

You loved Garrus Vakarian and not even the Collectors were going to stop you.

Your head jerked up when you heard the shower in her bathroom turn off and hoped that she wouldn't step out naked.

You propped yourself up against a support pillar by her desk so you could easily operate the stereo.

"Breathe, Vakarian." you told yourself. As much as you wanted to think that this wasn't going to be a big deal, it was and you knew it.

After some rustling came from the other room, you saw the door slide open and Shepard stepped out. Her hair was colored a bit darker, and you presumed that she hadn't dried her hair at all. Instead, it hung at her shoulders. Although it was neatly combed, her face was free of makeup, meaning that her scarring was very visible. You had overheard the numerous conversations she had had with Chakwas about it, but you hadn't been expecting it to be so bad.

You didn't have anything to say about it, though, considering the nasty blemish that you had on the side of your face.

"You got a second?" you asked, your voice suave. "I mean, I'd love more than a second, but you get the picture." She simply stood next to you with her feet planted firmly on the ground. She was in her N7 black dress, which clung to her wet skin.

A hint of a smile played on her face while she watched you and she took a step forward. When words didn't come out of her mouth, you continued to attempt smooth talking her.

Your mandibles twitched when you realized that you hadn't turned on the music, which you lunged to do before she could notice. An upbeat melody played across the room, and you were mortified to hear that it wasn't part of the setlist that you had selected.

"I brought some wine." you continued. "If you want to relax a bit, I'd be willing to join you." You raised the bottle in your hand and tried your best to ignore the wrong tune playing in the background.

You weren't sure whether or not she was about to cry or burst out laughing. It looked like she could do both at any second, and it was then that you knew that you had pushed her too far. She wasn't ready for this sort of relationship and she certainly didn't care for you like you cared for her.

Your plan of attack was undetermined. Now it was time for you to involuntarily rely on the one thing that you could sometimes do best: rambling.

"Look, Shepard, I didn't want to make this awkward for you. If this isn't how this kind of thing goes in human culture, I'm sorry. You look, uh, beautiful, by the way. Just…when you talked about letting off steam I thought-"

Your on the spot tactic worked.

At that moment, Shepard walked over and turned off the music that was playing and took the wine off of your hands. Instead of going along with what you planned, she rested the palms of her hands on your chest and looked up at you.

"Consider me seduced, babe. I've never had a boyfriend try to plan anything remotely nice for me." she admitted. "Sure, a date on shore leave every now and then was nice. But something like this? Fuck, I don't even care if it's awkward."

When she paused, your insides fluttered at her touch and you rested your talons on her shoulders.

"Garrus…I love you, goddamn it. I didn't admit it before because I didn't want you to leave."

You touched her cheek and she laughed when they turned a light pink. The uncouth feelings you had melted away and the two of you kissed. This time it was different, though.

"I love you too, Shepard. I'll love you until the end of time."

The distance between you had been closed and all of the walls had been knocked down temporarily. As you took her into your grasp, she wrapped her legs around your torso again and you nearly dropped her on the bed. She must have done her own research, because she was doing every single thing right.

Instead of making things brief, you milked it out for as long as you could. You wanted to take her in over and over again just in case the two of you never made it back.

Between kisses and nibbles, she told you everything that she hadn't told you before.

She was fierce but she had fears, and you were the same.

Your name was Garrus Vakarian, and you could honestly say that you made love to someone for the first time that night.

"Come to think of it, I hardly think a nightclub that's filled with off duty soldiers is a good place for us to be." said your boyfriend.

Your name was Liz Shepard and you were starting to think that life was good again.

The overwhelming sense of claustrophobia wore off on your second elevator ride. You were beginning to feel good when you heard civilians murmur your name.

"It's the Commander!" they would mutter to those next to them. You didn't know if their comments were positive or negative, but none of them had the audacity to come and speak to either you or Garrus.

You were a little thankful for that.

"Oh, come on." you said while rolling your eyes like a child. "What's the worst that could happen?"

The Turian shrugged as the two of you went through the V.I.P entrance to Purgatory. His arm was linked with your own for reassurance, which you were thankful for once you got inside.

The large amount of people was overwhelming and you realized that assimilation wasn't going to be easy. There were easily five hundred people packed into the raunchy club, and the way the music throbbed against the wall was ear shattering.

In a desperate attempt to find some sort of closure, you scanned the crowds in search of someone or anything that you could deem familiar.

Your eyes drifted to Aria's former seat in the lounge, which was now occupied with a human couple making out. Jack's spot nearby was empty like the vast space right outside of the Citadel.

Something happened when you looked at the bar, though.

A familiar figure was hunched over a few empty glasses. His hat was turned backwards and it looked like he was talking to himself. His brown hair crept out from under his hat, and his stubble was still as scraggly as ever.

Without saying a word, you let go of Garrus and ran.

There was not a single doubt in your mind: that man was Joker.