Alright, so I know I said seven chapters before, and I wrote seven chapters. But upon further review, I've come to realize that this last chapter works a lot better split. Don't worry, it's all done! I'm putting up chapter seven now, and you'll get chapter eight tomorrow. Enjoy!
She found him in the mess hall, sitting alone at the far table, absently running an ungloved hand through what looked like a bowl of dextro-amino fruit salad. She'd only actually seen him eat a few times, but she knew how loath his people to use utensils. They just had no need for them. With sharp and powerful talons more than capable of cutting through the hardest meats, turians simply ate everything with their hands. They had never even invented utensils on Palaven -- save for the knife, of course, but that had served other purposes throughout the species' history. Garrus had been surprised to hear that eating with one's hands was considered rude in human culture. Not that it stopped him.
There were a few other crew members in the mess hall that evening, but she barely had the presence of mind to give them a greeting nod as she headed for Garrus's table. He looked… different. His eye was free of its reticule, and he was even out of armor -- a rarity. Instead, he was wearing a tight and long-sleeved blue outfit, not unlike what turian diplomats on the Citadel wore. And he was pulling off blue rather well.
She slid into the seat across from him. "Up a bit late, aren't we?"
"What can I say? I was hungry." He hadn't noticed her coming, but his eyes didn't show the tiniest flicker of surprise when he saw her.
Curious, Shepard studied his meal of choice. The mixture of chopped-up fruit -- or, at least, she assumed it was all fruit -- ran the entire spectrum in color, from familiar greens and reds and yellows to alien blues, blacks and purples. Some of it looked eerily similar to Earth crops; some of it was so horribly alien that she'd have turned around and run straight out of any market on Palaven that had it on display.
Intrigued, she dipped a hand into the bowl and grabbed something that looked kind of like a white grape. "Don't eat that," he warned. "It'll kill you in five seconds flat."
She knew he was exaggerating. Had to be. Turian food couldn't be that toxic… could it? "Are you…" She dropped the dextro-grape back into the bowl with a bit more haste than she'd intended.
The next few moments passed in silence. Garrus continued to claw at his food, but he didn't look even remotely interested in actually eating it. Instead he stared at it with darkened eyes, his face and his body exuding a heavy lack of energy. Finally Shepard could take it no longer. "You know what's funny? For someone who claims to be hungry, you're doing very little eating."
"Yeah, I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought…" He pushed the bowl away softly. "Just couldn't sleep."
She shot him a wide smile as she got to her feet. "In that case, you won't mind giving me a hand with something. Come. Walk with me."
Without waiting to hear his response, she started moving in the direction of the elevator. Garrus lingered back for a little while, but eventually, he caught up and fell into step with her. "What do you need me for, Shepard?"
"Oh, I just want a fresh opinion on something. I'll tell you in a second."
He followed her closely, his tall frame lingering within her shadow. She noticed his eyes drifting down to her tightly-bandaged hand. "How are you, err… recovering?"
"Well enough." They had reached the elevator, and Shepard pressed the button to call it down. "Like Doctor Chakwas said, it looks and feels a lot worse than it is. There'll be some scarring and some permanent loss of sensation, but I'll be fine, Garrus. Rest assured."
"I'm glad to hear it, Shepard." Turian mouths weren't made for wide and warm grins, but she could tell by the way his mandibles twitched, the way his eyes took light and the corners of his mouth became ever-so-slightly bent, that he was giving her one right now. "You saved me again, you know. Thanks."
"No need. Permanently even, remember?"
That was when the elevator chimed and the doors split open. As they both walked through the tight threshold, his hand accidentally brushed against her bare arm. The touch alone was enough to send soft sparks of electricity jolting across her skin. "Now then," he began, "what did you--"
But for the second time in just over as many days, Erin cut him off by throwing the full weight of her body against him and kissing him.
Garrus's back slammed against the metal wall of the elevator with a hard thump. He growled, though whether it was a growl of pleasure or of pain she couldn't tell. She reached around and placed her good hand on the back of his neck, brushing and tracing it against his silver-iron skin as she took a second to send the elevator up to her quarters. Then she started running her tongue against his teeth like last time, pressing her body tight against his, feeling the soft fabric of his casual clothes give way to hard, sinuous skin. Her fingers made it to the end of his neck and started tracing their way down the edge of his fringe. The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. She began to lead him out in her arms, stopping just short of the closed doors to her quarters. And all the while, she kept going, kept painting his teeth with her tongue, nibbling lightly against the ridges of his mouth. More and more and more and she wanted more!
But he didn't react like last time. He wasn't parting his teeth -- he kept them clamped shut. Hell, his hands were still at his sides. His body stayed rigid.
"Erin, slow down!"
His words pierced the soft veil that had formed over her senses, hitting her mind with jarring slap. Her eyes fluttered open and her hand dropped; she pulled her lips away in shock. What an idiot! She'd just jumped right in like last time, brazenly assuming that this was what Garrus wanted, that he was ready for it… that he'd forgiven her for what she'd done the first time. She wasn't sure just what to say. "Oh, shit, Garrus, I'm… if you don't want…"
Then, for the first time that night, Garrus touched her. He placed a single hand on her hip, soft yet strong, sharp yet protective, squeezing yet molding against her skin. "You know this is what I want, Erin. You're the closest friend I have in this galaxy, and I feel… a lot for you." He stared at her, studying her face with sharp onyx eyes. "But you need to be sure it's what you want. I'm not someone who likes to get led on, and I don't want a repeat performance of last time."
At that, her eyes dropped. She'd really made a cosmic mistake that day in the comm room. She had very nearly thrown their friendship -- or whatever this was -- completely off its axis. But Tali's words still rang loud in her head.
"You know, Garrus, for someone with a mind as quick as mine, I can be a real moron at times." She drew a bit closer to him now, drinking in his dark eyes. "But a friend of mine shot some wisdom my way tonight." Smiling warmly, she said, "I'm a machine, and I'm not performing to specifications. But I'm not broken. I'm just incomplete."
Garrus blinked once. "Huh?"
"It means I need you, turian!" She raised her good hand and grabbed his, running the soft skin of her palm against him. The sensation of it made him shudder and blink. "I just ran one of the worst missions of my life, and it was because the logical part of my brain had realized what the rest of me hadn't. I'm just…"
She looked away. Even to Garrus, she hated admitting her own mistakes. "I'm just so used to seeing everything as an equation," she stated. "My own life is one big flowchart, a long string of inequalities, every decision a quantified zero-sum game and I just pick the side that has the bigger number. What I want and what I need are so often diametrically opposed. And frankly, it gets so easy to fall into the rhythm of selflessness, sacrificing the things you want almost implicitly because you want them."
She looked up at Garrus, eagerly meeting his eyes. Garrus, the anchor, the rock, her most loyal warrior and her most trusted friend -- she needed him. How the hell had she managed to get it wrong last time? Lips quivering, she said, "Sometimes what you want really is what you need."
There was a second-long pause, and it was both the shortest and the longest second of Erin Shepard's life. "So what are you saying?" he asked.
Good question. "I guess I'm picking up where we left off in the comm room. I told you I'd explain it all soon, remember? Backing away that time… I made a mistake. A calculation error."
"A calculation error?"
She shrugged, crossing her hands over her chest as an amused smile threatened to creep across her face. "Sorry if you're not satisfied, Garrus, because that's the best I've got."
And then Garrus was against her. He embraced her, wrapping strong and powerful arms around her slender frame, nudging his head against her neck and nuzzling her softly with his nose. His mandibles were grinding a bit too hard into her skin, but she didn't care. She threw both arms around him, ignoring the flare of pain in her bad hand. He raised his head, and she took the opportunity to bury hers in the crook of his neck, breathing hard against solid skin. He pulled her body close against him. She could feel the heat of his skin. She could feel his heart beating against her chest, pulsing in perfect mathematical unison with hers. Had she taken the time to think about it, she would have realized just how incredible that was, especially considering the fact that they were two different species with vastly differing average heart rates and neurological responses. But as it stood, she didn't think about it. Her usually razor-sharp calculator mind had flooded with too many pleasure neurotransmitters to be able to.
He held her in his tight embrace for a long time. Exactly how long she wasn't sure. It was tame compared to what they had been doing in the elevator, or the other day in the comm room. But in a way, it was that much more sensual.
Eventually, she pulled away with a warm and affectionate grin. "Follow me," she whispered, grabbing his hand and yanking him with her into the captain's quarters.
Garrus walked in slowly, keeping close to her, taking in the sight with intense curiosity. He had to admit, there was something… enthralling about being here. The very top of the Normandy. He could have snuck his way in here a long time ago had he wanted to, but of course he never did, and this was the only section of the Normandy SR2 that he was yet to see. Fitting, he supposed. He had never much liked human tastes in interior design, but he had to admit, Cerberus had quite the flare for modern style. Or had it been Shepard herself?
"This place looks… nice," he said, trying to distract himself, force away the nerves plaguing his mind. What was she doing? What was he supposed to do? If she was planning what he thought she was planning… then he had no idea how to proceed.
Erin laughed softly. "I'm glad you like it." Then she led him down a few short steps and sat down on the black leather couch in the corner of her room, patting the material once to indicate for him to join her. Never one to disobey a direct order, he carefully sat down beside her.
His eyes started scanning room uneasily as he thought about what to say. "I have to admit, Erin, I… don't know what the protocol is here. I've never even considered cross-species intercourse, and--" he quickly bit his own tongue when he realized what he'd mindlessly blurted out. Garrus, you gaping moron!
"Stop worrying, Garrus," he heard her say.
Well it just wasn't that easy. The nerves were intensifying, as was the confusion. He still wasn't sure what this… was, even, or what he was supposed to do. "Err… I've got a bottle of wine," he said quickly. "From Illium. It's down in the main battery. I could go get it for you… us…"
But then he heard a series of soft mechanical clicks. He turned around, realizing, to his complete and utter shock, that she was no longer sitting beside him. "Uh, Erin? Where did you go?" Was this some strange human ritual that he'd never heard of? Find the lady before you… well… "You are still here, right?"
"Oh, I'm here," came an amused and disembodied voice. He quickly scanned the room for its source, but then he realized what was going on. Shepard had activated her stealth cloak.
"Erin, what are you doing? That cloak only lasts for ten seconds."
He heard the unmistakable sounds of rustling fabric. "Actually, it's twelve point five seconds," she said. "And that should be… just… long… enough."
When she rematerialized in front of him, there was a pile of clothes tossed on the floor behind her. And she stood there proudly, wearing nothing but her omni-tool.
Garrus's jaw dropped. "…Oh."