Finally got around to adding to this story (thank god)! I can't even tell you how much fun this story is and how much I wish I had more time to write it.
Greenyoda987 is the greatest individual for editing for me even when she's extremely busy!
As the call drew on, it was becoming more and more clear to Shepard that this wasn't going to be easy; the call was meant to merely be a business discussion, yet it was becoming increasingly difficult to remain neutral, despite her best efforts. Her brow furrowed and she set her head in her hand for a moment as the woman on the line chattered on. She cared nothing for political bleatings that had no impact on her, her people, or her business and this conversation addressed none of those.
"For the last time, Ms. Lawson, I will not associate myself or my organization with Cerberus," Shepard cut in, her voice booming through the modulator and drowning out the woman's words, "This call was a courtesy but if you insist on pushing the issue of working together, it will become much less so. My organization deals in profitable enterprises, not human-supremacist politics."
"Yes, I noticed that when you killed the first Human Spectre," Miranda replied tartly, "However, I must insist that you reconsider your position. After your latest… achievement, the Council is sure to label you as a terrorist organization."
"There is a difference between terrorism and scare tactics, Ms. Lawson. Something you and your people would be wise to learn. But, until such a time, this conversation is over. Consider this my final communication with Cerberus."
"Illusive Man, wai—"
Shepard cut the connection with a satisfied smile. The last thing she needed was to be allied with Public Enemy #2; being Public Enemy #1 was more than enough. That, and she took a sick sense of triumph from infuriating the insufferable Cerberus leader. There was nothing petty about that, was there?
"If it helps, ma'am, I would have done the same thing."
Shepard chuckled, "I'm sure, Tali, although there would be a bit more cursing in your version, correct?"
Now it was Tali's turn to laugh. "Of course, ma'am. No offense, but they represent the worst of humanity." It was well-known that Cerberus was well-hated among the non-human members of her organization, yet many of the human hearts and minds Cerberus sought to win within the Family remained unconvinced.
"I happen to agree, so none taken," Shepard said as she rose, glancing at the time on her omnitool. She swore and bolted for the adjoining living space. "Tali, have a car arranged to meet me outside the building, and another at the Venture Investments headquarters."
"You forgot about the C-Sec Benefit Ball, didn't you, ma'am."
It wasn't a question and Shepard quickly threw on the dress she'd purchased for the occasion, a smirk pulling at her lips. Time had gotten away from her, it seemed. "It may have slipped my mind, yes." She peered into a mirror and grimaced, scooping up a make-up bag and plopping herself down on the low vanity seat. She could hear Tali sigh theatrically as she swept a bit of blush on her cheeks and laughed. "I'm sure our dear friends in law enforcement will forgive me if I'm a little bit late to spying on them." Eye shadow and liner, mascara, what was she forgetting…
"The cars are waiting, as you requested, ma'am. I have also infiltrated security checkpoints to confirm that you are not followed."
Lipstick! How could she forget… "Excellent. The last thing I need is one of these C-Sec goons tailing me back here. And, my calls—"
"I have already set them to forward to your office. Your omnitool is off our communications grid until you return."
"You're a saint." Shepard double checked her reflection and, satisfied that she looked the part, strode toward the door of her office in a swirl of skirts. "Have the private elevator ready for me?"
"Already done, ma'am."
It was a wonderful thing to be in charge.
Three days… Garrus had made it three days before Pallin dragged him out of his office to make nice with the politicians. Complaints that he had an investigation to run fell on deaf ears and Pallin told him he would be at the C-Sec Benefit Ball, and he would shake hands with the politicians, and he would get over it. And so, the newly promoted Detective Vakarian found himself staring listlessly at an endless sea of the wealthy and privileged of the Citadel, chatting over expensive champagne. Hell, he hadn't even known such a gathering existed until Pallin had shoved his invitation into his hand. And of course, the Executor had tried to tell him that taking a break would help, that he needed to clear his head and come back to it; Garrus disagreed. He could be studying the Family's methods, looking for a weak link, but instead, he was stuck smiling politely at people with far too much money and giving them polite, politically correct answers to all of their stupid and inane questions. Maybe he could shoot himself and get it over with…
He tugged absently at the collar of his dress uniform, contemplating just how much of a reprimand he would get if he just took off the jacket, but decided against it. Best to stay on Pallin's good side in case he needed warrants and man power. Spirits, what he wouldn't give to be out on patrol instead… Yes, patrol was annoying and usually ended with filling out paperwork for numerous drunken disorderlies, but at least it was interesting. This was just… mindless. And if he had to stand there listening to someone's fake compliments with a gormless expression on his face for one more second…
An asari approached and shook his hand, congratulating him on his recent promotion—the way she said it, he could tell she'd been talking to Pallin—and asked if he'd made any progress. He gave her the practiced, "C-Sec" response: we're making headway, but unfortunately all developments must remain classified until judicial action can be taken and blah, blah, blah…
She chattered at him for a moment more before excusing herself and he sighed. He needed something much stronger than champagne if he was going to survive this ridiculous evening. Maybe there was a bar…
He almost cheered when he caught sight of the white-suited bartender across the room and began weaving his way toward what he prayed would be his salvation. He'd made it only halfway when he made hard contact with another person and staggered back. The human woman he'd crashed so gracelessly into rubbed her shoulder with a delicate wince before looking up at him. It took only a second before she smirked and offered her hand.
"I see you're not quite used to the… political side of your promotion, Detective," she joked quietly, eyes laughing.
Huh. Well, this was interesting. Anyone else here would have yelled at him to be more careful and behave more like an officer of the law, or something equally archaic, but not this human. And that was enough to make her intriguing. "I see you've been speaking to the Executor, then," he replied, taking the offered hand. Her grip was firm, but not crushing and after giving his hand an obligatory shake, she released it.
"No, I haven't had the pleasure," she replied with a chuckle like falling water. Her eyes seemed to glow as she appraised him and she reached up to trace the newest stripe on his shoulder. "The other ones are faded, whereas this one," she informed him with a catlike grin, "is not."
Well then. He couldn't help a small smirk. "Perhaps you should be the detective, Miss…?"
"Shepard, please," she replied, taking her hands off of him. "Regina Shepard, I—"
"Run Venture Investments and make very significant donations to the C-Sec Retirement Fund," he finished for her, mandibles twitching wider into a smile. Maybe this was fun…
"Very good!" She looked ready to say more, but glanced away quickly before looking back to him again. "I apologize, I'm sure I derailed you from something very pressing, at the speed you were going. Don't let me keep you, Detective…?"
"Garrus Vakarian. Garrus, please, I haven't quite gotten used to being 'Detective Vakarian' yet…"
"Of course, Garrus. Enjoy your evening." She gave him one last indulgent smile before gliding away.
Garrus's eyes followed her until he could no longer keep track of her in the crowd, and even then he didn't move right away. Well… At least someone here was interesting… He gave his head a slight shake and returned to his previous objective of investigating the bar, leaning on the polished surface heavily.
"What can I get you, sir?" the human chirped helpfully.
"Strongest thing you have that won't kill me," Garrus replied dryly.
"Not your scene, hm?"
Garrus chuckled and accepted the glass of… Hm, turian brandy. Very nice. "That seems to be the common conclusion," he answered, taking a sip. The alcohol burned down his throat and he hummed in appreciation. "Thank you." He turned to face the room again; perhaps he would find that Shepard woman again…
Shepard slipped through the crowd with practiced ease, nodding in acknowledgement to the various greetings. There was one bit of business she needed to take care of before she focused on C-Sec…
"Joram!" she greeted warmly, laying a hand on the turian's arm. He jumped, but relaxed when he saw her and inclined his head. "How are you?"
"Ms. Shepard, very nice to see you, as always," he replied, but she could see his attention was elsewhere; his eyes darted around, scanning the crowd behind her, and his hands knotted and unknotted reflexively.
"Is everything alright? You seem… distracted." She plastered a concerned expression on her face, but inside she was grinning.
"Hm? Oh, yes, well… It's nothing for a fine lady like yourself to be concerned with, I assure you. I… If you'll excuse me? I have an urgent matter I must discuss with the good C-Sec officers." He spun and hurried away quickly and Shepard let a small smile break on her lips. It seemed that the anonymous threats had quite the impact on Mr. Talid… Excellent. She sipped her champagne to hide her smile and scanned the room again. Perhaps that would teach him to openly campaign against humans; she was sure he wouldn't risk continuing his candidacy now. That wasn't to say she was a human-supremacist—she'd already told Cerberus to take a hike, hadn't she?—but the Wards were the Family's home, where she did business… She couldn't have someone promising to end organized crime where she lived and worked. Oh no, that would never do.
She could see the Executor a few circles of people away and began picking her way toward him. And now for her favorite part of the night…
Garrus caught sight of the unique shade of Shepard's hair over the crowd and watched with growing interest as she headed toward the Executor. Oh, this was going to be interesting… Garrus knew all too well just how Pallin felt about humans, and Ms. Shepard, it seemed, was going to find out the hard way. He didn't want to see her fail at… whatever she was trying to do, but at least it would be entertaining. And he was sure she would come out of it no worse for wear. Hopefully. But his expectant expression fell as she approached and the Executor turned to face her with a smile. Um… What? They shared a brief hug and she pressed her lips to his cheek in that weird gesture of affection humans had a habit of doing in public. What in the hell was going on?
"Venari, how are you?" Shepard gushed as she planted a light peck on his cheek.
"Regina, a pleasure as usual. I have been better. I'm sure by now you've heard?" He sipped his drink as she nodded.
"I have. I also ran into your newest detective. Literally, actually." She laughed at his stricken look and laid a hand on his arm. "Oh, don't look like that. I'm fine, see? Not a scratch!"
"I apologize, I forget Detective Vakarian is a bit overeager and… unlearned in the finer points of high society."
How very dignified, she thought snidely, but shook her head. "Oh, no. He's lovely. Really, much more interesting than that other one… Oh, I forget his name. He was here last time." She gave an apologetic smile as she gestured vaguely with her free hand. "My memory isn't what it used to be." Of course she remembered Chellick, but she was merely a business woman in the Executor's eyes, not a tactician. Best to act like it.
"I understand, though you're too young to be plagued with the troubles of the elderly," he teased and she laughed. "Unfortunately, Officer Chellick is on patrol tonight and could not be joining us."
Well maneuvered, as always. Yet she knew what the implication meant: Chellick was demoted for failing to stop her and losing the Spectre. Hm. Pity. But this was a dance she was very used to: make nice with the Executor, act very interested in C-Sec's work, promise another donation at the end of the quarter, wish him well, drink, laugh, repeat. "Oh. Oh I see. How very unfortunate. Does it have anything to do with that video feed? Dreadful business."
"It does, you're very astute. Perhaps I should hire you instead of new recruits."
"Your detective said the same thing, you know. Maybe I'll give up my life of luxury and join the force, fight crime, catch bad guys." Her smile said she was kidding and he laughed.
"Send me your application and I will make it happen. We could use all the help we can get."
Shepard nodded, cradling her elbow in her free hand and sinking into her hip. "I've heard. The Family is really giving you the run around?" She furrowed her brow and scowled. "Surely someone knows something about them?"
"You know I can't discuss that with you, Regina," he scolded but she looked up at him entreatingly.
"Please, Venari, you know me. It gets so boring up in my office; I like to live vicariously through your investigations. Humor me?" She tapped her lip contemplatively. "Hypothetically, what would help your investigation?"
Pallin looked ready to argue, and she wondered if he would finally put his foot down—she knew just how lowly he thought of humans—but he sighed. The benefit of donating very large sums of money was that the people receiving said money tended to be very forthcoming with information when asked. "If we could get someone inside—one of ours, not a damn Spectre—we could make progress, even figure out who the Illusive Man really is. Hypothetically, of course."
"Of course. Why haven't you done that?" She knew why, but best play the fool. Who was Regina Shepard to know anything about the Family?
And Pallin went along with it; who was he to suspect a devoted donor? "Their security is highly advanced, almost militaristic. And technologically, we've never seen anything like it. You heard the voice modulation, yes?"
"It left a horrible static on my translator," she said with a grimace that still managed to look pretty.
"It's a side effect of the process they use, which is far above anything C-Sec has ever dealt with. And that's just one example." She made her eyes properly wide and he nodded. "Until we figure out their next move, or find a crack in their organization, we're in the dark. And, more likely than not, our inside sources have been eliminated. I wouldn't be surprised if the Illusive Man cleaned house after he discovered the Spectre."
Inside sources, hm? Interesting. She hadn't considered that the Spectre had help, but now that she thought about it, she should have assumed so. C-Sec was getting creative. Well, one more thing for her new head of security to look into. "I see. That seems… rather extreme."
"They are criminals, Ms. Shepard. I doubt they see it that way." The smug way he said it made her blood boil, insulted at the implication, but she carefully composed her expression to hide it as she sipped her drink again.
"I see… How terrible."
"I agree, but it doesn't make it any less true." He looked down as his omnitool beeped and raised a brow. "You'll have to excuse me, I have something I must take care of."
"Of course. Give my best to the missus?"
"As always."
As always… Oh, if he knew. She watched him go with a thinly disguised smirk, placing her empty glass on a passing server's tray. It was always a twisted sense of accomplishment that drove her to attend these events, the smug victory that C-Sec was actually helping her evade them. She almost felt bad for them. Almost. They'd killed enough of her people to quash that feeling.
"How did you do that?"
She turned and smiled up at the new detective. "Garrus, how nice to see you again."
"The Executor, I… I don't think I've ever seen him smile…" Garrus' mandibles were twitching and she was sure his mind was turning over and over trying to justify it.
"You mean because I'm human," she stated and he cringed. "I know of his feelings about my species, Garrus, don't act so uncomfortable. The Executor and I have developed a friendship, of sorts. I give him lots of money, and he ignores the fact that I'm soft and squishy. It works well and we avoid any political fall-out."
Garrus's brow furrowed—as well as it could with plates—and he gave a vague hum. "And what do you get out of it, if it's as mutually beneficial as you make it sound?"
Shepard's smile widened; she liked this detective, he might actually prove to be a challenge. She glanced around and leaned in with a conspiratorial whisper, "Can you keep a secret?"
What in the… Tentatively, he nodded and she grabbed his hand, towing him toward a balcony; it gave him time to actually look at her—he told himself it was just his officer's training, needing to be aware of his surroundings. She was shorter than he, but that didn't mean much. She seemed to be about as tall as most human men, and she had a presence about her—which he was sure had drawn him to find her again. The dress she wore seemed to float and swirl around her as she walked, the fabric almost as light as air, and the same color as champagne. Her arms were bare and her hand, he was late to realize, was soft against the skin of his wrist. He was sure she was pretty for a human, if the covert glances from the males of her species were any indication, but certainly not his cup of tea.
When they reached the balcony, she released him and went to stand at the railing, looking out over the Presidium. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Was she avoiding the question? "I don't know. I spend so much time chasing criminals through it, I can't help but think of them and not what I see." He moved to stand beside her and she looked up at him.
"Spoken like a true C-Sec officer," she said with a chuckle. "I can see why Venari promoted you." Garrus's eyes widened when she used the Executor's first name and she grinned. "You seem surprised."
"Just… yes."
"I was too, the first time he asked me to call him by his name. But, we didn't come out here to talk about him. You asked me a question." Her expression took on a melancholy look and her smile no longer reached her eyes. "Why do I give so much to C-Sec?" Garrus nodded and she lifted the long waves of her hair and turned her back to him.
Garrus had seen plenty of terrible things in his time patrolling the Wards; he knew exactly what kind of things happened to people. But he had never been confronted with it so suddenly. Long, criss-crossing scars trailed from the back of her neck down her back, exposed by the low-plunging fabric of her dress and he inhaled sharply. He didn't want to ask—what made them, or when, or why—but he knew there was a reason she would show him. There was always a reason. "What happened?"
"My father and a belt," she replied, tone stony as she let her hair fall again. Now that he knew they were there, he could still make out the lower-most marks and he felt stupid for not having seen them before. She turned to face him again and ran a hand absently along the high neckline of her dress. "I burned dinner." She kept her expression properly neutral as his mandibles slackened in shock. Good, he was falling right into her ploy; oh, the story was true enough, but she had moved on. Yes, she hated her father, and yes she hoped he died slowly, but it was behind her. Yet it always helped to make them feel sorry. Sympathetic people were more forthcoming. Chellick had been a harder nut to crack, but Garrus was turning out to be putty in her hand.
"I… I'm sorry, I…" He stopped himself, hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides. "When?"
She could see him struggling to keep himself in check and gave him a sad smile. "A long time ago. I was… Fifteen, I think." She shrugged. "My mother had killed herself when he refused to get a divorce and I was supposed to keep the house in her stead. I wanted to go to school, but I couldn't do both."
Garrus was sure he looked ready to kill something, but he didn't care. That… This was exactly why he had joined C-Sec, to stop things like this. "Where is he?" he growled.
Shepard shook her head, as if to tell him to forget it. "Dying back on Feros. I left Zhu's Hope as soon as I could." She sighed, but inside she was grinning. Oh, she could read him like a book and play him like a fiddle. "The point is, I donate so much to C-Sec so the same thing doesn't happen to another little girl. I like what I do, Detective, but I don't get to help people, not the way you do. And while I sit up in my penthouse offices, weighing financial risks and contemplating buying new sculptures, you and your colleagues are out making the Citadel a safe place. I know there are officers who have given their lives to protect civilians, and the least I can do is donate large sums of money."
Garrus wanted to press the issue, wanted to find out anything he could about this… monster whom she had the misfortune of calling "father", but he could tell that she was trying to steer the conversation in a new direction and followed her lead. She was the donor, and it was her terrible past; he would talk about whatever she wanted to. "How did you get Venture Investments started? Last I checked, Zhu's Hope was a small research colony established by Exo Geni Corporation."
"You mean how did I get enough money to start a company if my home is nothing more than rocks and prefabs?" She smiled to assuage his discomfort with her brutal honesty and continued, "Please, Detective, I know where I came from, no need to sugar coat it. I had nothing when I left, stowed away on a transport ship to Benning, then Virmire. I joined a small survey team there doing research—I don't remember what they were looking for, but I cooked and kept the camp while they were out." She chuckled. "And don't worry, the irony isn't lost on me. But, they left to go exploring and left me to set up camp again, and while I was alone, I found something."
Garrus hadn't realized he was leaning toward her, enrapt in her story until she turned to look at him again and he shifted his weight back again, coughing into his hand. "What was it?"
She let out a huff of laughter and looked back out over the Presidium. "At the time, I had no idea, but I knew it was valuable. I bundled it up in my things until we got back and sold it to the highest bidder. Then a bunch of professors and researchers from Serrice University on Thessia started contacting me about it. Apparently, I'd found a Prothean data cache—nothing groundbreaking, just some logistics for farming and mineral mining—but where they came from was of the utmost importance. They paid me twice as much as I'd sold the disks for, just to know where I'd found them." She chuckled. "I doubt it did them any good, but at the time, it wasn't my problem; I had 6 million credits, and I knew I could make it more than that."
"So you started an investment firm."
"Actually, no. I tried to open hotels, but couldn't get the permits. So, I took my money, sat on it, and after a while, people started coming to me looking for funds for their projects." Shepard smiled at the memory and leaned over the railing, a light breeze lifting errant locks of her hair.
Garrus regarded her curiously for a moment before speaking. "How did you know what would be profitable for you?"
"I didn't. But the proposition is of little importance, really." She laughed at his shocked expression and turned to face him. "If a man does not believe he can revolutionize the average man's way of life with his creation, he cannot succeed," she said sagely and chuckled, "I've consider having that carved into my lobby's walls. It would save me plenty of time, I'm sure."
Garrus leaned an elbow on the ledge, facing her in his casual stance. To say she intrigued him was an understatement at this point. "You really don't care what is brought to you, so long as the person bringing it forward is confident?"
"Confident, yes… But I care about passion far more." Her eyes sparkled and she gestured toward him—his uniform—as she continued, "Take you, for example. Whether you know it or not, you have been interrogating me—although very politely—because you are passionate about what you do. You are an investigator, and you investigate things. I would be shocked and insulted if you hadn't been so interested in my tale; what kind of detective doesn't care to know everything they can? But that is what makes you good at your job, Garrus, and why Venari selected you to head his highest-priority case."
It was a compliment, in a round-about kind of way, but it still made Garrus want to puff out his chest in a show of pride; he resisted, but he had been tempted. "I'm flattered, Ms. Shepard, but he regards you with far more esteem than he does me."
"Only because I give him lots of money," she replied cheekily and straightened, but let her hands linger on the railing.
Garrus couldn't help but chuckle and nod his agreement. "Speaking of which, you two seem a bit closer than… business acquaintances?" Was that even the right word to describe their relationship? He had seen the… he didn't know what it was called, but humans only seemed to do it with people they were involved with, and it was considered very intimate. The Executor surely knew the implications, right?
"How do you mean?"
"I mean, you… Well, the thing… Humans do it with their mouths and… ah…" He floundered for a moment, suddenly standing ram-rod straight and she laughed lightly.
"Ah, you saw me kiss his cheek, then? And you're worried I've ensnared your dear Executor into some lecherous affair with my human wiles and lack of plating, is that it?" Her expression glowed with barely contained laughter and Garrus rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Oh, he was awkward and adorable, in a bumbling kind of way. This would be fun, if he was to be chasing her.
"Well… No… maybe…"
"Don't worry, it's nothing like that. He merely tolerates my presence and incessant questions. His mate and I go for lunch every weekend, as well. What you saw…" She held up her hands and grinned. "It's an old human tradition of greeting respected friends and family with a kiss. Purely platonic, so unfortunately, there is no fodder for gossip and speculation."
Garrus sighed, visibly relaxing and it only served to make her smile grow. "Ok, good… I mean, right?" She just kept smiling at him and he looked away. She was nothing like the other politicians and benefactors here, and he didn't know how to deal with her. Yet he wanted to, that was the strangest part. For the entirety of the evening, he had been plotting how he could escape with his sanity, yet now he merely wanted to speak with her for as long as she would let him. He did not have a thing for humans, she was merely… interesting. He could honestly say he had never met anyone like her. "I apologize, Ms. Shepard, I'm sure I've kept you from something far more important than indulging my curiosity," he finally said evenly, but she merely raised a brow.
"We are looking at the same gathering, are we not? There is very little important or even interesting at these events, but as a donor to C-Sec, I am obliged to make my appearance," she said with a grin that made him relax. "Regina is just fine, Garrus, and believe me when I say this is the most fun I've had at one of these events in a very long time."
He couldn't help but doubt that, not when their conversation had started with such a grim topic, but he returned her smile amiably. "Fair enough, Regina, but it looks as if they're ready to start with the toasts and honors, and I'm sure Executor Pallin would take pleasure in disciplining me for keeping you." He offered his arm and she took it with a mischievous smile.
"Venari was wrong about you, you definitely know your way around high society," she mused as they returned to the bustling ball room. "I'll have to thank him for promoting someone charming for once."
Charming, huh? He hummed in agreement as the Executor mounted the stage that had been erected and moved to stand behind a podium. The microphone gave a small burst of feedback before falling silent and he tapped it experimentally. Again, it screeched and fell silent. Pallin's mandibles flexed as the conversations in the room fell silent.
"Thank you all for coming, and for showing your support for C-Sec and the devoted officers sworn to protect and serve the Citadel," he started, earning a quiet round of applause. Garrus watched Shepard settle into her hip and join in, but there was a secretive amusement about her expression. "It is with great pleasure that I saw that C-Sec has been able to increase its presence throughout the Presidium and Wards, and cut crime by fifteen percent in this year alone—largely thanks to your generosity and continued sponsorship."
Shepard arched a brow, but clapped along with everyone else again. Fifteen percent, hm? They must have had immense success with every other case, because her operations were largely untouched… Or was he merely trying to give his faithful money machines something so they thought their investment was worth it? If it was the latter, she had to give him credit; people were whispering amongst themselves and she could see that many were impressed. It was working.
"And, we have been able to expand benefits for officers who have retired or been injured in the line of duty. More than two thirds of C-Sec's retirees have found fulfilling civilian work largely thanks to the support and services they receive upon retirement, thanks to programs funded by your donations." His eyes found hers in the crowd and Shepard smiled, nodding in acknowledgement. She didn't hate C-Sec—they were good men and women—but they did get in her way and she could not tolerate that. But their elder officers, and those who were wounded and could not return, they had done nothing to her, and could do nothing to stop her. She felt no conflict in helping those who would otherwise go without because of physical or mental damage done in the line of duty. Applause rose up again and she joined in a bit late; Garrus was regarding her curiously out of the corner of his eye, but said nothing and she was glad of it. Best he think she was lost in her thoughts anyway.
Names, honors, and awards were read, presented, and applauded ad nauseum and Garrus was beginning to wonder if it would ever end; his eyes were beginning to burn and weariness was beginning to settle over him. How late was it? How long had he been there? The artificial night of the Presidium outside did little to indicate the hour and so he remained where he was, grimly smacking his palms together for every stuffed-shirt to whom he was called to be grateful to for his job and resources. Ugh, he hated these stupid events.
"And, finally, I would like to acknowledge and extend a special thank you on behalf of all of C-Sec to someone who has never hesitated to share their wealth in an effort to help those whom she feels deserve it."
Oh no. Shepard's expression fell and her eyes widened. What was he doing?! She glanced around quickly, wondering if she could run, make an escape before he dragged her up there. She couldn't have people studying her that closely; it was one thing to infiltrate C-Sec's circle, it was another thing to be studied by everyone in attendance. What if someone made her? Caution was her greatest ally and caution demanded that she not get on that stage.
Garrus had concluded that Pallin had been drinking shortly after his long speech and list of honors had begun, but now it was becoming all too clear. His posture was relaxed and easy—almost cocky—as he stood at the podium; people laughed at his dry jokes and he smiled easily with each round of applause. Pallin was drunk—not tipsy, or buzzed, but drunk—and no one had the heart to drag him off the stage with his honor intact. But it was Shepard's sudden change in posture that caught his attention. What was she—
"Regina Shepard, come join me!"
Damn him. Shepard blushed and waved as casually as she could. "You're doing just fine for the both of us!" she forced out with a strained smile, but he gestured her forward anyway. She let a grimace sneak onto her face before plastering on a smile.
Her strides were stiff and reluctant as she approached and Garrus nearly burst out laughing. A socialite who hated attention? Oh, she was strange. And, he had to admit, his kind of human. Even if she looked like she was walking to the firing squad.
Shepard stepped up and was immediately embraced around her shoulders and tugged to the Executor's side. "Ms. Shepard has been a generous donor to C-Sec since establishing Venture Investments… Spirits, has it really been eight years?" He looked down at her with a grin and she patted his shoulder in a playful and reassuring—and fake—gesture. "Well, far longer than I can care to admit. I've become an old man while she has managed to remain young and successful." Shepard's blush darkened and he continued, "But, what you all probably didn't know is that Ms. Shepard wasn't always so wealthy and prosperous. From nothing came Venture Investments and Ms. Shepard, rather than hold on to her wealth, has willingly and frequently donated to see my officers are taken care of after devotedly serving the station they call home. And I can think of no better way to thank her for her constant support than what I am about to announce. As of this year, pensions and benefits will be funded by the Regina Shepard Officers' Fund."
Applause rang out, but Shepard felt like the floor had fallen out from under her. Oh, damn it… Damn it, damn it, damn it… This was not part of her plan. Scheming, spying, and subterfuge, yes, but being dragged on stage and acknowledged? Immortalized in C-Sec's records as a donor? Not part of the plan! She was sure she looked like a deer in the headlights, but couldn't make herself move. Pallin leaned down to whisper something in her ear, but she didn't hear, merely nodding and laughing; that always seemed to be the appropriate response at these events. She plastered a fake smile on her face as the applause stretched on an on, cameras flashing over and over. Damn him, he had planned this. He had planned this and she hadn't known; that was the worst of it, she was supposed to know everything C-Sec was doing—every plan, every action—and yet she hadn't known about something as minor as this?! The clapping finally began to quiet and she politely excused herself, making her way down the stairs on the side of the stage and then weaving her way through the throngs of people still listening to the Executor; she retreated out of the ballroom, out of the lavish hotel, and out to the streets, only stopping once the sounds of the event quieted. She hadn't realized she'd been running until she stopped, her breath coming in heavy pants. The cool air brushed over her fevered skin and she sighed, tilting her head back and trying to breathe deeply. How much else didn't she know about C-Sec? This was… unnerving. Alarming, even. How could this have slipped through her information networks?!
"I see you're not used to the political side," a flanging voice behind her said and she spun. Garrus leaned against the hotel's entry, grinning and she rolled her eyes.
"I'm sure this is very funny to you, Detective," she replied dryly.
"A little. But I find it more fascinating than funny," he said, moving to stand beside her, "You're probably the only person in that room who was embarrassed to hear Pallin call their name and tell them how great they are."
"I'm not that great," she mumbled, a model of humility. She was that great, but she didn't want C-Sec saying so. She wanted the news feeds, the people, the galaxy saying so. But being honored by C-Sec… It felt like betrayal, though she had never felt that way about it before. Huh, maybe she did have a soul…
"I can't make judgment on that, but I will say you're the most… genuine person in that room." Garrus shrugged. "I'd say that's more than enough, but then again, this isn't my natural environment."
A small smile pulled at her lip. "No, your preferred habitat has more shooting and less hand-shaking, I'd wager," she teased and he raised his hands in surrender.
"Guilty. Take me away, I'll serve my time."
Now she laughed and he grinned. "You're very strange, Detective," she told him bluntly, "But I like it."
"Thank you, I think. If it matters, I think you're strange and likeable too."
Shepard looked back down the streets with a smile. "Perhaps we'll see each other again, Detective. I could use a laugh every now and again. Maybe over coffee?"
"Is that what you humans drink?" he asked, feigning disgust and she covered her mouth to muffle a giggle, internally chiding herself for letting her guard down. She wasn't supposed to be so… undignified in front of her enemy; she wasn't supposed to like them. "I suppose I can do that, though forgive me if I pass in favor of something more… non-lethal."
He had wit, she would give him that. And if she was going to be facing down anyone at C-Sec, if push came to shove, she'd rather it be someone who can deliver a clever one-liner. "Deal."