**A/N- After having a grievous lapse in logic pointed out to me, I felt it was only right to take down the latest chapter and re-edit it to make it believable and to correct the plothole. I apologize if this caused any inconvenience to my readers. I hope it's not too much of a leap and I hope this revision doesn't break the continuity of the story. Again, my apologies.**

Five Days Earlier, Orbit- Palaven

"I'm sorry, Garrus, there's not any way around it. We're supposed to meet this turian contact of ours in Serdica. The only quick shuttle to Serdica departs out of Tectis. We have to dock there."

Ezmay did truly look regretful, but it didn't stop the swirl of anxiety in Garrus's gut, and it didn't put him in any better of a mood. It was bad enough that his mate was going to be covered in sunscreen strong enough to turn her white. Now they had to go through Tectis, which was going to get him flagged and he'd bet his rifle, his next year's pay, and mating rights with Ezmay that his father would come troddling down to the port. The thought of an intervention proceeding left a sour taste in his mouth. Evandus Vakarian was stubborn, opportunistic, and unfailingly conservative.

"My father's going to show up."

"You don't have to see him if you don't want to."

She didn't understand. Garrus wasn't a complete egotist. There was no way he could land in Tectis and not see his father. If he had to go before the Primarchs for an intervention, he'd have to refuse rehabilitation. If he refused rehabilitation, he'd be clapped in irons and taken to hard labour.

"You're sure we can't just take the shuttle to Serdica?"

"Garrus, its regulated airspace. I can't buzz the atmosphere and have Joker drop us in the Hammerhead. You want them to shoot the Normandy down?"

"There's got to be another way. We can't land in Tectis. We're going to be tied up in an assload of red tape and while we're doing that, Father'll show up. He's going to insist I come home."

"You don't have to." Ezmay looked irritated, letting the datapad she was studying drop to her bare knee. Garrus had been anxiously stroking her calf, but now he was just as annoyed. She wasn't getting it.

"You're not understanding me."

"Well, why don't you explain again what the deal is? Because I'm not getting whatever point it is you're trying to make."

"I am not fulfilling my filial duty by flying around the galaxy with you. My father wanted me to be a spectre, not an outlaw. He's going to take me before the Primarchs and have me sanctioned." He tried to phrase it eloquently, to put it in terms that a human could understand. Even still, there was going to be stuff that didn't quite translate.

"You're going to get arrested?" Her eyebrow went up. "Do you want me to take someone else? You can stay aboard the Normandy."

"No." He said automatically. "I'm not letting you go into this alone or…"

"With someone other than you?" Ezmay sighed, and then shifted her attention to the datapad. He could see her examining distance between cities that had spaceports and their destination. "Calleva's about 12 hours away from Serdica. I can have Joker take us there and then we can charter something."

Right. Palaven's transit authority was notoriously strict about licensure and permits for crafts not manufactured on the surface. Still, he was relieved. He'd happily sit through a thousand day trip just to avoid having to deal with his father and the drama the old turian would bring with him.

"Thank you." The relief was naked in his voice. Ezmay started to say something, perhaps to reassure him, but he silenced her by seizing her thighs and pulling her closer to him. The shriek of laughter….God, he lived for that.

"Thank you.." He said again, bending over to nip at the exposed collarbone. "Thank you…"

Ezmay's arms came up around him. He was very, very welcome.

Palaven

His human awoke just as the moon was rising on the second night. Garrus halfway suspected that she had a head injury and that was why she was out for so long, but he wasn't a doctor. He wasn't even particularly talented in the area of xenoanatomy. One moment, he was gently washing the blood away from her hair with a water pack and the next moment, she was rolling over to stare up at him with a familiar look of disorientation. He murmured to her, whispering, soothing, wondering if she remembered anything that would fill up the holes in his mind. He'd remembered Omega, remembered that she'd been dead at one point, remembered serving on a ship with her. Remembered pleasuring her and melding their bodies together. He'd tugged her bodysuit to the side far enough to find scars- claw marks- lacing over her collarbone. The soft blue glow of the lanterns washed over her skin as she rolled to face up. It made her skin glow and made her tattoo brilliant. Garrus growled low in his chest. How could it be that a squishy soft human could be so appealing?

"Who are you?" He asked her.

"Ezmay Shepard. Who're you?"

"Your mate." He couldn't hold back the gravel in his voice. She looked startled. "Do you remember anything?"

He saw her testing her memory, looking inward. Without warning, she rolled to the side and vomited into the sand. She spat and gasped, and her arms quavered terribly as she held herself up. Garrus's talons curled around her waist and he lifted her up so that she wouldn't have to brace herself on shaking limbs. He wrinkled his nose at the sour smell; Thank god he wasn't a sympathetic vomiter.

"Surely it's not that bad being mated to a turian…" His voice was joking, trying to inject some levity to the situation. He was bonded with her…which was godamned weird….and he knew very well that she wasn't disgusted by him. She was sick. She felt like shit.

"My head is pounding." She said as if to confirm him.

"I think you've got a head injury. Hell, I think we both do. And you're probably not handling the sun out here very well. Your skin is burnt to a crisp."

"Tell me about it." Ezmay watched him crouching nearby. "What makes you so sure that I'm your mate?"

Garrus didn't know what it was about her voice that made him unhappy, but he knew that he didn't like the brusqueness, didn't care for the business-like tone. She was all soldier and he had an overwhelming feeling that she didn't speak like that all the time.

"You've got my colours tattooed on your face, and this is a human thing, right?" He gestured at her with the silver ring. He had to admit, it was highly comical when her eyes bugged and her mouth gaped like that. She saw the ring first, and then traced fingers over her cheeks. She couldn't see the thin blue line that matched his clan markings, but there was still a slight ridge from the tattoo being almost healed over. He knew that she felt it.

There was a length of silence between them that went from funny to awkward to torturous. And then she spoke up, her face turning a grey-green shade.

"I'm sorry…this isn't you.."

The human crawled away, out away from the canopy and where she'd vomited the first time, and emptied her stomach into the sand once more. He heard a muffled 'fuck' from her direction; saw her suck down the contents of a water pack.

"I don't suppose…there's any levo-amino food around here?" Her voice was ragged.

"Strangely enough, there is. Just a little though. I'm working on getting the radio fixed and getting us out of here." Though Garrus had no clue where they'd go. Shit. He didn't even know if she'd go with him. He pawed through the silver packets and tossed one to her.

Ezmay seemed a little better after eating. She settled back under the canopy and leaned up against the ration crate. She studied Garrus. He studied her. Damn, but her gaze was so intense. He started ripping wires and circuitry out of the busted datapads to distract himself.

"Mated, huh?"

"I'm as surprised as you are." He told her.

Ezmay took a deep breath, and sighed. "I know your name. Garrus Vakarian. You were with me on the Normandy."

Garrus gasped, dropping the board he'd been trying to yank out of the pad. The mention of the Normandy brought another rush of memory. It was coming in fits and stutters; had been most of the day. There'd been two ships by that name, and he'd been on both of them. He had a glimpse of a dark-haired human male. A biotic. Knowing glances between him and Ezmay. Smiles, touches when they thought no one was looking. The flash disoriented him. Talons curled around the datapad and he went back to work. His claws were shaking; the human gazed at him with interest.

"Remember something?"

"You were fraternizing with someone." He said sourly. Now that she was awake and coherent, Garrus wasn't comfortable with the easy possessiveness and the jealous instinct. He could tell from his human's awkward silence that she didn't know how to process that.

"So, the obvious question…" She asked. "What the hell are we doing out here?"

"I don't know. We're on Palaven, out in the desert. We had enough rations for a week, and we're both suffering from memory loss. We've both got superficial injuries; you took a bump on the head. I might have. I don't know." He said again. "Only explanation I can think of for amnesia."

Ezmay had cocked her head, eyes rolling to the side. "Palaven…." He saw her hand go to her chest, just over her heart. Holy hell…was she remembering the queen of spades? Maybe she knew what the significance was?

Suddenly, Garrus was on his feet and moving to her. "Do you remember the card?"

"The card?" Her fingers were inside the neck of her suit, and then she looked up to him with an expression of surprise so florid and startling that it brought him up short.

"The king and queen of spades."

"We stole something." Her eyes went glazed. "We stole something and it went wrong. I remember…..I remember the smell of apricots. And I remember tasting metal in my mouth."

Garrus curled at her side. Her face had taken on that grey-green again and he disliked it. There was something wrong with her, something that hadn't affected him in quite the same way. His talons wove into her hair.

"There was heat and debris." She frowned, that faraway look still in her eyes. "But now we're dressed up and we're talking to someone."

When Garrus finished stroking her hair, he looked down and saw a handful of the black strands tangled around his claws.

Four days earlier- En route- Calleva/Serdica

The tram from Calleva to Serdica was dirty, cramped, and smelled vaguely like urine. Garrus also didn't like the way that the turians on board were looking at Ezmay. They'd chosen seats near the rear, and he'd intentionally stuck her at the window, placing himself strategically in the aisle. He could see it in their eyes, the way they slid over Ezmay's tattoo and then the rest of her body. As if she were food. Then they'd inevitably look towards him. The Shanxi turian. The pervert. The deviant. He might as well have been walking around with his dick out for everyone to see, the way turians were looking at him. At least Ezmay seemed not to notice. She was humming to herself, typing on a datapad, reading up on what they were doing in Serdica.

The initial dose of information they'd gotten from Vic had shocked her and made Garrus's stomach turn. So, they were to meet another Shanxi turian, it seemed. Tullius Cheres was slime, a coward, and a true pervert. He'd gotten started on humans and branched out to other species as well. Currently, his favourite partner was a slim little human that had been born and raised on some backwater colony that wasn't important enough to be named in the dossier. She didn't speak, didn't question Tullius, and didn't appear to exist for any more reason than to be his arm candy. Together, they appeared to be into some truly sick fetish material. Whips, leather, stuff like that…..whatever. Tullius seemed bent on experiencing every fucked-up facet of interspecies sexuality. He hadn't felt safe enough to leave Palaven and meet the Broker's agent, so someone was to be sent to him. They'd arrive, dressed to the nines, ostensibly for his latest little get-together. He'd know them because they'd present themselves as Karn and Shana, two old friends. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink. The thought made Garrus want to throw up. If Tullius's parties went anything like Garrus was suspecting they did, he'd be hard-pressed to avoid kicking the guy's ass before the night was out. Maybe the looks and glares of the turians on the tram were making him paranoid.

This was supposed to be in and out. Shake hands, exchange money for information, off-we-go. Nothing was ever that simple. Garrus leveled a death glare at a turian with orange streaks who gave Ezmay a lecherous grin. If laser beams had been shooting out of Garrus's eyes, the other turian's face would have been a simmering puddle of goo.

"You're going to blow our cover if you keep acting the jealous lover in public." She said under her breath. She did not look up at him.

The growl that had started in the back of his throat deepened into his chest as Orange-Streaks paced by. Eyes locked, and for a second Garrus thought he might have a challenge to mating rights on his hands. Then the other turian averted his eyes and passed by, out into the next car. Garrus growled in satisfaction.

"Jesus Christ! You're worse than Kaiden was!" When Garrus turned, Ezmay was staring at him with a half-annoyed, half-entertained look in her eyes. She didn't have citizenship on Palaven. It was his duty to protect her from whatever lawless perverts there were. "You might as well have pissed on my leg to mark your territory."

"Our cover didn't specify how jealous I was allowed to be."

"Look, I'm not going to lie. It's real sexy when you get all protective, but I'm a big girl. And you're drawing attention to us." Her fingers went to his waist and caressed him through his tunic. Garrus groaned. "So, cool it, big guy. Ok?"

"You better stop that, then. Or I'm going to draw even more attention to us." The banter put him in a much better mood. "Run over the plan with me one more time. I want to be sure we've got all our bases covered."

To his surprise, Ezmay's fingers did not stop teasing him. Dammit, his plates were starting to shift. His eyes bore into her, but she pretended not to get the message.

"Okay, we arrive at Tullius's house early evening. Identify ourselves as Karn and Shana to his bodyguards. We wait while they check with him because although we are on the guest list, we're old friends whom he hasn't seen in a long, long time. He'll want to know immediately that we're there…"

Garrus's talons came down on Ezmay's thigh. He squeezed through the long layered skirt and saw the hint of a grin start to crinkle her eyes.

"Ezmay…" He half-groaned as her fingers started to massage at the curve where his ribcage dovetailed.

"We waltz in, talking with Tullius, meet some of his guests. Bullshit, mingle, yada, yada. After we've been there long enough to be polite, you suggest that the four of us go for a tour of his house. Emphasis on the "private" and "special" tour."

His claws dug into her leg; perhaps he squeezed a little harder than he meant to. The thought of sharing Ezmay with someone got him irate. And then she started those feather-soft touches. He forgot all about what he was pissed about.

"We make the exchange, and let ourselves out the service door. In and out. Just that simple."

Ezmay turned her face towards his, letting her eyes search over his face.

"In and out?" He said hopefully. Here, there, in the middle of the road, somewhere on Tullius's property. Garrus would have thought she was a horrible tease if he didn't know that she could count on him to fight with a bit more ferocity when he was all hot and bothered. It got his hormones up, brought out that feral dangerous part.

"Of course." Her voice was a low whisper on his cowl, breath sliding warm through his tunic and on his plates. "Just as soon as we get off this tram and settled in a room somewhere."

"Thank the Spirits for small blessings."

Palaven

There was something about grasping a handful of beautiful black hair that spurred Garrus on, drove him harder to fix the godamned radio and get his human off of this godamned planet. There was something wrong and he had no idea what it was. Worrying and trying to figure it out, to wrap his tactical genius around the matter, was warring at him cobbling together a radio that they could use to signal someone. Was the Normandy still out there? What the fuck were they doing on Palaven? Ezmay stayed in the shade of the pavilion by day and tried to exercise herself at night by the light of the moon. It killed him, literally brought the taste of bile to his mouth, to see her plodding half-heartedly through the sand. She wheezed, clutching a water pack and shuffled around as if she were very old. She kept no food down; Her hair was noticeably thinner after a day. Garrus starred at her, and then dove back into the radio.

It wasn't the radiation. Palaven's radiation evidently wasn't strong enough. She was feverish and voided her stomach into the sand. When he asked her why she was up walking around, she replied that she felt like she was going to go mad if she didn't get some kind of activity. Other times she complained that she'd give her own arm and one of his just to get her hands on a deck of cards.

"I've got this great game I want to teach you." She said, smiling weakly. "It's called briscola…"

Something snapped in the back of his head. His claws shook, the circuitry and soldering iron he'd been toying with to fix the radio tumbled. The hot end rang out against the ceramic of his thigh plate and fell harmless into the sand. There was a hiss as it connected with something inconsequential and flammable in the granules. Garrus sat frozen, helpless against the onslaught.

"I'm glad you could come." Tullius seemed genial enough, but something was making Garrus' hide crawl. He'd learned to trust that instinct a long time ago; now he shifted uncomfortably in the crazy getup that Vic had recommended he and Ezmay wear. The turian turned, mandibles flaring in what was supposed to be a gracious expression. But his eyes lingered over Ezmay's body too long, danced over the tattoo on her face. Tullius had a fondness for leather and metal. At first, seeing the way the fabric hugged Ezmay's lean curves, Garrus had too. Now he thought the image was soiled. It made him angry. Their armour was waiting in the shuttle, but he wanted to run out and grab it now. He felt dirty passing through the anteroom where couples and groups had writhed and moaned. This wasn't a party. It wasn't a get-together. It was an orgy. He was on the edge of rage. Garrus flicked away the prodding fingers of Tullius' human.

"Spare the pleasantries." Ezmay said politely. "We're just here for the discs."

"All business. You must be quite domineering in bed." Tullius gave Garrus a mooney-eyed look.

"Mr. Cheres, I'm unsure if you're familiar with how the Shadow Broker works, but let me assure you that he is not fond of people wasting his time." Again, she was infinitely cordial. Just as well that she was doing the talking. Garrus probably would have just snatched the pervert off of his feet and beaten him against the floor until he'd redecorated the chamber in blue.

Ezmay continued. "We're on a clock, you see, and as I understand it, so are you."

Beneath the two silver streaks on his face plating, Tullius blanched visibly.

"Indeed, I am a little anxious to get rid of these damned things." The blonde curled her arms around Tullius' waist as he stammered. "The thing of it is, I will only turn it over to you if I can be sure you're really his agents."

"Why else would we be here?" Garrus snapped at him. "To dress in these ridiculous costumes and watch a bunch of losers fuck?"

The silver-streaked turian hadn't expected to hear much from Garrus because he flinched away. Now his fury was evident, and the pervert felt in over his head.

Tullius' voice shook. "If you will just humour me. I'm told Madame La Braziliana is a card player."

Garrus could see Ezmay roll her eyes from his peripheral vision, could practically hear the burst of thought in her head that she was going to strangle Jack bare-handed when they got back up in space. More importantly, she wanted to beat Vic half to death for telling this leech details about her.

"I play a game or two every now and then."

Garrus's fingers itched towards a sidearm that wasn't there. "Get to the point before I lose my temper."

"If you'll humour me a game of Sueca, I'll be content and send you on your way. Besides I have to be gone from the party for a while or my guests will wonder who you are."

Sueca. He didn't know this game. Ezmay evidently did, because she looked shocked.

"How did a turian learn to play Sueca?"

"I've been around."

Even as Tullius said this, Garrus's instincts kicked into overdrive and went into red alert. The other turian stood with his feet and spurs planted wide. His hands didn't fidget, betraying the trepidation that he voiced. Ezmay's response was out before he could stop her.

"Ready your Sueca table. I need a moment with my mate."

Tears. There were tears on his face. He blinked his eyes and found Ezmay standing over him. Frantically shaking him. The tears were hers. They left trails on her reddened face and had splashed down on to him. When had he fallen over?

"Garrus!"

He curled his talons around her wrists and hugged her close. The memories were dancing seductively at the edge of consciousness and he wouldn't be pulled away from them. Ezmay's hair brushed against his scarred mandible, strands catching in the mottled hide and coming loose. She was shedding like a cat.

"…quiet…let me think…"

Silence answered him and he plunged back into the memory while she wept on his cowl.

"Sueca's like Briscola. We're playing to take tricks and we'll use the same deck. Ace, Seven, King, Jack, Queen, everything else is worthless. The deal passes left after each hand, we play counter-clockwise. Ten cards, and dealer calls the trump. Follow suit, but you can fluff worthless cards if you are short-suited. Highest card of the suit played pulls the trick." Garrus started to speak, but Ezmay held up a leather-clad finger and shushed him. "It's played silent. But we're partners. Godammit, I wish we'd practiced something like this before. We could have worked out signals to get the upper hand."

There was a stress to her directions. Somehow the stakes had been altered. If they didn't win, didn't beat Tullius and his mistress, they wouldn't get the discs. Then the information would be at large, taken by whoever chose to kill Tullius and take it away. Garrus watched Ezmay strip off her gloves and gave her a questioning look.

"Take your gloves off. It's the height of rudeness to play at friends with your gloves on." She nodded. "It's an old, asinine rule, but it's a rule all the same."

"Any other strategy I should know?" He whispered as Tullius came back in with the deck of cards and a glass of Palaven ale.

"Watch the cards. We cover each other's asses. Win. Play like the cutthroat I know you are."

Tullius' mistress shuffled and dealt. Garrus took his hand and fanned the cards in his claws. The hand went around- spades- Ezmay played low and he laid down the king. The first trick was his.

It was, perhaps, the most disconcerting card game he'd ever played. Cards usually came with booze and cigarettes or cigars, and loads of conversation. It was the most unnerving thing to play for such high stakes and in total silence.

For someone who'd never played Sueca before, he thought he was doing rather well. They played around, gradually burning through all their cards. Tullius drank as if he were determined to drain every last dreg of alcohol he had in stock. His mistress- Garrus never caught her name- played with her hair hiding half her face. By the time they were halfway through the first game, he'd already worked out some of their signals that Ezmay had been talking about. Tullius would set his glass down with a thump when he was about to play low. His mistress would tuck her hair behind her ear if she could cover him and play high. It made it easier for Garrus to anticipate the round and set them back. Ezmay was in the process of pulling the next to last trick before he noticed what was so odd.

His fingertips were numb, and the hide around his claws was starting to burn.

Garrus looked up to her sharply, saw her hands shaking and the cards skittering out of her fingers. Her eyes went out of focus and then snapped back to him. Ezmay stood up with a start, her chair tilting, overturning. She stumbled. As he reached to catch her, he saw Tullius cough, sputter. Blood sprayed from his lips. Blue stains rained down over the cards. Garrus and Ezmay fell, tumbling to the ground, with Ezmay choking and gasping around mouthfuls of vomit. From the blonde's side of the table, he heard the same gargled wheezing. The human dropped to the floor as well. She clutched the queen of spades in her fingers.

"The cards!" A breath went in, red blood foam came out. "The king and the queen!"

Beside him, Ezmay was kneeling, spewing, choking, but seemed relatively okay. Garrus crawled to the blonde. His vision was phasing in and out. He saw two of her, saw the skin on her face blistering.

"What are you saying?" He tried to ask her. Didn't know if the words were coming out.

"..king and queen of spades." She coughed blood, chunks of some yellowish tissue. Dear God, was she coughing up her lungs? "..discs. Lightener. We didn't think he'd come tonight. We thought we had time.."

Tullius was already dead, slumped over the table, blue blood draining from him and mixing with the ale, which surely must have been poisoned. He turned his eyes to the blonde, who was pressing the queen of spades into his hand and closing his talons around it. Garrus noticed now, the weight of the card, the odd texture. He hadn't had the queen in his hands tonight, hadn't pulled her on the trick. Now he saw clearly what Tullius had been doing.

"Garrus, we gotta go…" Ezmay had recovered herself, but her skin was turning a shade of red-grey that made him swallow hard.

"No shit…" He snatched the king of spades off the Sueca table and slammed the two cards into his pocket..