A/N: Thank you guys for the wonderful reviews, especially Dimladris who was my first reviewer and somehow still keeps reading my stuff! Blausen, as for your question to whether or not my FemShep's brother is alive... We won't find out for quite some time ;). Favs and Subscriptions mean a lot to me, and reviews keep me going (kind of like batteries for that pink energizer bunny), so thank you for that. These next two chapters are kind of passive, a small calm before the storm. I hope you enjoy, and I promise not to make a habit out of writing A/Ns.

Chapter Five: Unexpected Respite

For a very short and daft instant, she wondered whether she'd done something wrong. He was C-Sec after all. Arin stared in disbelief as the turian held her arm. The second and certainly more likely possibility was that she dropped something… But all she could think of was that there was a turian towered above her, with his mandibles slightly slacked, holding her still. His grip was neither violent nor forceful; it was gentle and solid at the same time.

"Officer?" she spoke at last.

The turian's taloned hand fell back beside him and his mandibles twitched just enough that Arin noticed. She couldn't help but feel like he'd lost composure, if only briefly. It had been a funny sight to behold- especially coming from a turian, a species that seem to be born holding weapons as well as a stick up their… "Please," he brought a fist to his mouth as he cleared his throat before he spoke again, "it's just Garrus to you."

"What's going on?"

"I figured since we're both hungry and you paid for my drinks, I would return the favor," he suggested.

"Thanks, but you don't have to," she was quick to say. She very much didn't mean to have dinner with the turian, and her intention for buying his drinks was shamefully childish and asinine, the cherry on the insult she'd intended to leave him with.

"It's alright," he insisted, "you'd be doing me a favor."

"I'd be doing you a favor?" Arin repeated, incredulous.

He held his stance. "It's a turian thing."

Arin wasn't sure whether to believe him, but she was famished and didn't want to deny him any sort of tradition he really may have just because she felt a bit embarrassed. But it was mostly hunger that drove her to say, "Fine." Well maybe the whiskey had also played a role in that decision.

His grin grew wide for a second. "Good. I know a great place that severs good grub."

The two made small talk on their way to the backside of the Silver Strip, where everything from the price to the quality was almost a complete opposite to the richness of the Strip. Except for this little hole in the wall, where people of all species sat at many of the restaurant's tiny tables. Though the weekend had barely just begun, the streets were packed, and unfortunately for Arin's stomach, so was that place the turian had chosen.

They walked past the wide entrance of the place to get in line, but a human inside was quick to recognize her companion. "Garrus! Good to see you! Here," an Asian man called above the small horde, 'here, here." His hand excitedly waved them to the front by the register. She was growing increasingly upset at her companion's misuse of power. First Doctor Michel, and now this man.

"A lot of people are gonna be pissed at us for cutting in," Arin muttered.

"You get used to it after a while," he replied, unbothered.

"Get used to getting breaks for being a cop or the anger thing?"

She watched his mandibles flutter. Did he really think that was a serious question? "The anger thing." She huffed in disapproval, which he ignored, and easily at that, as the aforementioned man spoke.

"Just you? Yes?"

"Yes, just us."

"Yes, yes, Falo'han and Gerald were here earlier. Usual for you?"

"That'd be fine, thanks." She was ghosting her eyes over the menu when she spotted the turian looking down at her, but the two quickly looked away from one another, Arin resuming her previous task. She wasn't reading, not really. Underneath all those words and prices behind the man at the register, it took her nearly every ounce of self-restraint not to bolt out of there. Well, that and hunger. The hunger helped a lot. Pesky little thing. "Some friends down in C-Sec practically worship the, uh, cheese friends and… what are they called… the chicken fingers here. Beer's not bad either."

"Sure, I'll give that a go," she replied. No sooner had Garrus paid that the Asian man ushered them to the side until their order was ready, and once their tray was handed to them, they made their way around the crowded maze that the tables and their guests made. She'd been a little disappointed their food hadn't been handed to them in take-home gear. Granted, she hadn't exactly voiced her opinion that she'd rather just go home and eat alone, and moreover that would have been rude. It would have just been nice to. "Thanks for dinner, by the way."

"Don't mention it." He found a corner with a freshly empty table and they settled in, shifting chairs and their plates a little to find just the right comfort. The smell from her cheese fries threatened to make her drool and the hot smoke coming off them wasn't making it easier. A glance at his food was all she required to gain the control she needed to keep from mowing down a plate of piping hot food. His food looked to be slices of something still so raw that it might just gather itself and fly off.

Eventually, Arin stabbed at a chunk of clustered cheese fries with her fork, and through half-lidded eyes watching him do the same to the meat on his place, though in place of a fork was a spear-like stick. The two had gone halfway through their meal without uttering so much as a word to each other. Other than the occasional unintentional noise of approval, the other patrons' conversations filled the air between them.

The cheese fries were, for all intents and purposes, very cheesy. She'd only had them once before, back on Earth; she remembered then wanting to kiss whatever person had first come up with the dish. "Mm…" Damn they were good. "I outta make turians feel indebted to me more often, who knows what other great things I'm missing."

He guffawed like there was some great inside joke she was the butt of. "I did say this was a good place." Arin watched as he took another slice of meat into his mouth, and kept his mandibles tight to his face as he chewed. She'd seen their odd way of eating all the time long before, but never so close. At least they weren't like salarians, masticating their pasty food by only moving their lower jaw like amphibian cows. She shuddered at the thought. "It's good to see Doctor Michel have help around the clinic; in the few years the clinic's been up, I don't think I've ever seen anyone stick around longer than a week."

His comment caught her off guard, but it was as good an invitation as she was going to get to get her curiosity ball going. "You visit the clinic often."

"I… suppose. Though less so than when I had more patrol rounds."

She hesitated a little and moved the contents of her plate around with her fork, unsure of how to transition on. "Would you say you've made a habit out of it?"

"Yes," he hummed out. "Best not to let mercs and thugs think they're free to offer protection to the doctor."

Arin scoffed, unbelieving of how hypocritical the man before her was. "So instead you grant her yours…"

"That's what C-Sec does."

She leaned forward. "…in exchange for a few favors. Or is that just you?"

His jaw slacked for a moment, like she'd just wounded his pride. Hah. As if any turian would be offended by a human. He tugged at the cowl of his uniform, stretching his neck, like he suddenly felt uncomfortable and was trying to find relief. Clearly she'd hit a soft spot. "I'm pretty sure I know what this is about." And rightfully so, Arin thought. "Look, I know you think I roughed that guy up without reason—"

Well, that was another fish she'd wanted to fry, though, truth be told, she hadn't planned on doing it 'til later. "You abuse the power entrusted in you," she hissed low enough for only him to hear.

"—I… That's not. No. I roughed him up a bit and let him go."

"You manhandled someone when you had no right to, and if he is a criminal then you should have brought him back to C-Sec, not inflict your own twisted sense of justice upon him."

He groaned, clearly getting exasperated. He took a long sip of his drink. His voice rang low and cool when he spoke. "These guys are expendable to the people they work for. They're easily replaced," he explained, "You know that, and since you seem fairly intelligent I'll assume you know that too. They don't know that. And if I have to rough a guy like him up a bit to get good intel on his boss before cutting him lose, I will. You think he's going back to that line of work when he just about crapped his pants 'cause I scared him a little? Not many do. It's a win-win, the way I see it. He gets to keep his life by not working for violent thugs anymore and I get valuable information to help me catch those thugs."

Arin sighed, tightening her jaws in an attempt to release some of the ire she'd felt for the turian ever since that night she first met him. Her brother would probably do the same in the turian's place; both men were cold and calculating in the face of the enemy. The Butcher of Torfan. Her brother. And she'd be damned in hell if she didn't admit, at least to herself, that it made sense. "Well, what about Doctor Michel?" she reneged, "you protect her and she fixes up the people you torture. Do you know how much trou—"

"I-" he started but a low growl escaped her companion loud enough for her to hear, her primal instincts telling her to take up arms or flee or both, "I don't do that. I protect her because that's what C-Sec does. Whether she helped me or not, I'd be there. And if we didn't make an appearance in this place or that place you think these sectors wouldn't be crawling with mercs trying to extort whomever they pleased?

"As for the doctor, I'm just glad to have met someone I see eye to eye with. She breaks rules because some keep her from doing her job. I break rules because they impede me from doing mine. And don't worry, I pay for the treatments and donate credits for her silence." The turian stabbed at the slices of meat, taking a big chunk to his mouth. The ghost of his growl awakened something else primal in her, but he had thankfully said a lot to think about instead of giving her room to scrutinize whatever the hell was going on inside her.

A serene quietness steadied between them. She'd watched him carefully through his entire speech; it was clear to her that he believed his every word. As for Arin, although she could understand the logic behind his statements, she hadn't yet decided whether she agreed with his methodology or not.

"Why would you have to silence someone you trust?" she asked, thoughtfully.

"I don't have to. I do it with gratitude." His grin was back, exposing those predatory teeth of his.

"What about the violence? Wouldn't you rather just get on the guy's good side and get him to be your mole or something?"

"Moles of any kind never last long- always get found out. They're a big investment. It costs a lot of credits to send someone to infiltrate, so the Council's ordered us not to unless it's a big scheme. They much rather have the Presidium looking crisp, changing sceneries every so often so people don't get bored. Instead, some of us do what we can with what we get."

Arin nodded in understanding. As harsh as some of what Garrus had said sounded, she couldn't deny him that it all made sense, but she wasn't about bust her white flag to acknowledge her defeat. No, she was far too stubborn for that. At the very least, this night out had given her not only a different understanding on the hidden inner workings of the Citadel, but it reaffirmed something her brother had always tried to teach her despite the bubble her parents kept her in: Nobody likes doing the dirty work, but somebody has to do it. Not exactly something an idealistic mind learns in the tight and sheltered upbringing in the Alliance. What was left of her meal had grown cold and a little soggy, but she didn't want to be rude about a meal he paid for. Besides, chewing gave her time to mull this fresh perspective over.