A Very Bad Idea
Chapter One
[Two Months Earlier]
I placed the water bottles on the table by the door, re-wrapped the towel around my hair, then took a sip of coffee. My coffee, not that Alliance crap. One of the advantages of not sleeping, real coffee. That and longer showers. And, no one to ask, any updates, Commander?
There was the rub. The seed of everybody's mood, we were spinning our wheels. No clues, no trace of anything, we'd lost him. We hunted Cerberus, took every bullshit Alliance mission, anything to keep busy. So far, the Council hadn't said anything about our lack of progress.
Pfft. The Council. To say they were unhelpful, would be charitable. She theorized that the Council was why Saren went rogue. During debriefs, I fantasized about their heads exploding in a sea of colors, courtesy of her favorite sniper. Would he do it, if I asked?
Even he was edgier than usual. Their fight yesterday, for example. It wasn't completely my fault. It was the last base, the other's had been clean. My HUD was clear, so I charged.
Into a fuckton of creepers. Now. Now, I know that dormant creepers don't register on your HUD. Now. We got out of it. It's what we did. I had to grin. Yeah, that's-what-we-did. Every damn time. We were that good.
I was triumphant. We'd done it again. He looked, well, I sure couldn't place it. I recognized the anger that came next though.
We'd had this argument for weeks now. He thought I was too reckless, I knew they were calculated risks. He thought I was jeopardizing the mission. I thought he underestimated himself.
His rationale was sound. If I went down, so did the mission. Technically, no one aboard could replace me. The council would pull the plug on the mission. Sure, the they would send another Spectre after Saren, but they didn't know what I knew. And it would take time. Time they didn't have.
What I could NOT get him to understand was, I only took those risks, because he was there. He was my rock. Whatever crazy idea I came up with, if it failed, he'd get me out of it. Every damn time. He watched my back. He was my second pair of eyes. He was my sounding board. And, if need be, my reins. Well, he tried to be. I admired him for trying.
He's a good man. He was brilliant on Therum, our first big mission together. After that, I took him on more. He never missed a shot. Ever. Had sound alternate strategies. After a while, a dry sardonic wit showed. When we hit Feros, we were anticipating each other's moves. I couldn't imagine a mission without him.
Hell. I never thought I'd trust anyone as much as I did him. He intrigued me. He was intelligent, funny, tactically adept, steady, and incredibly lethal. He questioned everything, not out of disrespect, quite the contrary. He honed my strategies, rethinking, or discarding them.
What I never told anyone, the secret to my success, was that I firmly believed, every battle was my last. When you didn't expect to survive, you can do things no one in their right mind would do. It was also one hell of a high.
I took a sip of coffee, and checked my OT. Yet, another request from Joker for a ship upgrade. Him and the damn ship, it was odd, but the two of them, they could dance. I sent a message to Joker and Pressley, head to the Citadel. Proceed with the upgrades, coordinate a resupply, and schedule a seventy-two hour shore leave.
I, could use some shore leave, truth be told. It would be my first shore leave as a CO. I made a note to read up on Alliance protocol's, guessing it would be strict. I had a feeling that getting rip-roaring drunk, then screwing on the hotel balcony was frowned on. It was back when I was a second lieutenant.
A thought, and I laughed out loud, imagining Udina's reaction.
You're supposed to be an example for humanity. I was. I was an example of how limber we are, sir. -
This could be a problem. Command was indeed lonely. Well, what other options do we...
The door hissed open, and Garrus walked in. He stopped, gave me a funny look. I countered with a puzzled one, and he pointed towards my head. "Drying my hair." I pulled the towel off my head.
"You shower before sparring?" His head was cocked to the side, his puzzled or curious expression. I think the asshole knew why.
I brushed my hair with my fingers, deflecting, "Can't sleep. Helps wake me up." Something flashed across his face, a look I couldn't place, the same one from yesterday.
Actually, the truth was, he'd embarrassed me one time while sparring. He didn't mean to. We'd had a helluva firefight the day before, and I fell asleep in my armor. I hit my bed and was out. I'd overslept, threw on shorts, a t-shirt and just made it before he left.
I was still tired, and he had me pinned pretty quick. "So, that's what humans smell like without soap." He said with an exaggerated shudder. I cringed. "That bad?" He chuckled. "Not really. But, the other's preferable." Never again.
"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Skipper." Had been Ash's reply when I told her the story. Note to self, transfer Ash to garbage scow.
We were in our usual sparring attire. Black under-armor for him, and shorts, tank top for me. Comfortable, no restrictions. When we first started sparring, I wore sweats. Until one time they got hooked on his spurs, I went down, and he followed. He hit me full weight, knocking the wind out of me. No more sweats.
When Kaiden did spar, which was rare, I could tell my attire really unnerved him. I'd never seen him try to spar with Ash, so I don't know if her similar attire had the same effect. Kaiden is too much the gentleman to spar.
If it affected Garrus, he hid it pretty well.
The rules were simple, no armor, no biotics, no weapons. I broke the latter frequently. Too me, it balanced out his reach and height. He's almost a foot taller. If he asked, I relinquished them. If, he asked.
We took our stances, circling each other. "We're headed towards the Citadel. Ship repairs and shore leave." I took a test swing, checking his reaction time. Fast.
"Any plans?" He asked. Out of habit, I shook my head. Dammit, stupid move. He took the opening, a glancing blow to my shoulder. I had just begun my spin, when he kicked my legs out from underneath me. I started to go down, he caught me and pulled me tight against him. He held my left arm with his, my body and right arm with his right. I could still kick, plates beat socks though.
He was fast this morning. Or was I slow? No. He was quicker today. He leaned down and whispered into my ear. "Too-Slow-Spectre." The last word almost an epithet. Instead of just letting me go, he pushed me off. Hard.
We faced off again. "What the fuck, Vakarian?" We circled. He feinted, I didn't bite. He was just watching me. For what?
We stopped circling. He'd start to move right, quickly side-stepped left. Then started circling right, he'd lunge forward, then nothing. Back to circling. A quick right jab, I deflected. He kept circling, another quick right, I knocked it away. The circling now came clear, my arm was still up, he came in under, nailing me in the chest.
He swung, I grabbed his arm, yanked him down. I didn't expect him to go down, just off-balance. As he staggered by, I rabbited his flank. He elbowed me hard in the back. I spun, he was already facing me. We started jabbing, it went nowhere, but it got the rhythm going. After a minute or so, we paused jabbing, returned to circling. He just kept watching me.
He jabbed a couple times with his right, then went low with his left. I moved back in time, I had a feeling he'd try to kick my legs out again. When he swung his leg, I launched myself over his leg, and nailed him the chest, he fell back. I landed on him, I quickly pulled a blade, I had one shot at this. I had the blade under his jaw.
"Give" Question and order. He just looked at me. Smug bastard. I pressed a little harder. "Give?" Then I felt a sharp point against my left carotids. What the … He never used a weapon. I tried to turn, and he pressed a little harder. "You-lose-Spectre." Dammit. But, his voice sounded decidedly different. Very something.
Wait! Did he just growl? I couldn't hear it now. I kept my knife on him, dropping the other hand to his chest. I couldn't feel anything. Overactive imagination then. No. I heard something.
I always liked the sound of his voice, the sub-harmonics underneath. These new sounds were, Shit. I don't know what they were, but they were, well they were doing something. Rattling me, that's for sure. Sounds reminding me of, more than sounds...
The moment over, I slipped the blade back into it's sheath. Inside the center of my bra. Right between the girls. No one ever checked there.
He'd gone still for a moment. I couldn't place the look on his face. Thought you didn't like aliens, Vakarian. Let's just test that. .. wait. What? Why would I do that, I reasoned.
I watched as he put his glove back on. A talon No weapon. Just him. He was the weapon.
I looked down at him as he laughed, mouth open, teeth exposed. Predator teeth. [When I was six or seven, I found a vid on big cats. I was riveted] Talons. I put my hands on his chest to push off. Hardened muscles.
Predator. Memories of another...
He pointed at my chest. "Very clever. I would've never thought to look there." And there's your answer, Shepard. I grabbed a water, and threw him one. Hard.
A/N: FF has limited formatting. So, an explanation.
The bold/italicized segments are Shepard's thoughts/memories as they spar, and or talk. Two things simultaneously, what's going on in her head, and what's happening in life. One is triggering the other. I tried different ways to do this. If someone has a better way, please let me know.
Thanks again.