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The proud Vakarian starts to wonder if he is going insane. Everywhere he turns, he catches glimpses of a figure that matches the outline of Shepherd, the human that he cannot explain. There has been a time or two out on patrols that he could have sworn he caught her reflection in a window, only to turn and see nothing.

He rubs his tired eyes, and ponders how much psychological trauma can come from having things go right for once. The continued information had led to a few high caliber arrests that had earned him a commendation in his file. Though he feels flattered, and did do a huge bulk of the work, he had to bite his tongue to keep form crediting Shepherd for most of them. It wasn't because he minded sharing the praise; it was because that would out her as his informant and that could be dangerous for her. Also dangerous for the children she was willing to sacrifice for.

It made his fringe itch to think about the fact there were so many others just like her that were passed by every day. Truthfully, they should have all just been shipped back to their home worlds by species of origin, but none of the worlds would take them. They were a drain on resources and there were many planet side orphans that no one wanted. It was just an injustice that innocent kids like that was left to fend off the dregs of society such as the mercs.

He also found himself unusually worried whenever the time came for cleaning out the ducts. More than a few times, he had caught himself wondering if she and the children were safe. He held his breath until they finished the weekly reports, and only when he didn't hear the correct combination of species did he breathe again.

That was all well and fine, to be concerned about a prized informant, he told himself more often these days.

Normally he thought nothing more of the matter until he thought he caught her outline again on the catwalks. A place no one should be without proper clearance, he reminded himself primly. His visor whirred to life and his eyes strained to look up at the shadowed figure, but as soon as he looked up again it was gone. This left him wondering if he had actually seen anything in the first place. Garrus was concerned he was over thinking things.

That was until she started appearing out in the open every couple of days with a soft smile of greeting, and a wave as he passed her on patrols. The first time had taken him by surprise, but the few times after that he had discovered he rather enjoyed the reassurance she was safe. It prickled something inside of him that she might not be. She always wore that same contemplative and curious expression when she saw him. It felt as if they were both trying to figure the other out. Even though he was a damn good investigator, Garrus mused that she might have him at a disadvantage.

There were times that she would purposefully deter her path away from him, and normally that was when the less scrupulous members of Citadel society were watching. It reminded him, not so gently, that being his informant was still a dangerous thing for Shepherd. Yet, she never flinched away from it and he had yet to prod her for any information.

She always… just knew what he needed. And, that set off the more paranoid aspect of Garrus who was convinced there was a bug somewhere in his apartment. Though thorough searching had provided nothing more than some dastardly dust bunnies, he still wasn't quite convinced she wasn't spying on him.

In fact, he was almost certain she liked him. And, not to stroke his own ego, but he was a likable guy. Well for the most part.

One day, she had passed by him in the one of the lower wards with the Turian boy by her side. The boy had looked at him with open distrust and growled a warning. Garrus had found the action highly amusing and growled right back, waving his mandibles in exaggeration, causing the boy to misstep. Shepherd had given him a curious glance and nudged the boy along.

"Come on," she said firmly, "the others are waiting."

The boy had immediately forgotten all about Garrus except that he grasped Shepherd's hand tightly and pulled her along. She left Garrus with an apologetic smile and soft laugh.

The others. Was it always about others with her? It went against the very way of the Citadel. He narrowed his avian eyes in a thoughtful expression as she was led away by the Turian boy, who Garrus could see was talking incessantly.

He lingered on the way her eyes lit up when she laughed.

OoOoOo

Another day and another patrol found Garrus wandering the Zakara Ward with near disinterest. He'd walked down several flights of stairs and all he wanted was to call it a day. That was until he caught sight of a familiar shape through the entryway, and couldn't stop himself from calling out.

"Shepherd?" His mandibles flutter in slight surprise and greeting.

The female turns and he sees her face clearly for the first time, devoid of the usual grime. She is… well, pleasing enough for a human he supposes. Still, seeing her like this with her hair neatly arranged and her scent clean confused him. Had she turned the appropriate age then?

"Hello, Officer Vakarian," she greets warmly, with her hands still holding a submachine gun. Of all the things he'd expected, seeing her in here was the last one. "Welcome, how may I help you today?"

His sharp teeth glint in the florescent light as he gives a turian grin in true amusement. "Sure thing kid," he rumbles pleased, "after I see your work permit."

She freezes almost unnoticeably. Her eyes take in his uniform, and he sees a thought forming over her face, but he is not skilled enough at reading humans to understand it. "I don't possess one," she says softly.

"And the vendor still hired you?" A brow plate rises in disbelief.

She shook her head gently. "I'm not paid," she states blandly and locks her eyes with his in a slight challenge. "He and I barter. I work here for a shift or two, and in exchange he gives me better dextro food. Tassus deserves more than nutrient paste." She states it all so matter-of-factly that he is impressed.

"Tassus? Is that the little boy that was with you last time?"

She looks at him semi-amused. "He's the only Turian under my care, if that's what you're asking."

It had been, but he hums with both sets of vocal chords to himself and skillfully avoids to comment. Instead he launches the offensive, because now she cannot get away before he slakes his growing curiosity. "Where are the children? Did you leave them in the Asari's care?"

Shepherd blinks, and then gives him a wry grin. "Consara isn't exactly…," she paused as if searching for the right words, "her temperament isn't conducive for her watching the children for longer than forty minutes."

He chuckled lightly in his throat. She was trying to be kind, but to him it only made it sound worse. "I see and where are they?"

"They play in the commons at this time of day," she shrugged her delicate shoulders, "Mark watches over them until I am finished here."

He struggled to figure out which one was called 'Mark'. It sounded as if he were an exile, or a target. The thought concerned him as to why someone would name him as such. "I notice they all don't have names like you, Shepherd."

A somber look crosses her face. "They could have a chance when they are older," she says it with such determination and bittersweet sadness that Garrus feels his throat tighten. "But, in order for that to happen, they cannot be named by the Duct Rats. They need to believe they are more than throw away lives."

Garrus warbles concern he didn't even know he felt. "But what about you?"

"How are things at C-Sec? Was there something you needed?" She attempts to change the topic subtlety, but her gaze shifts away from him. He gets the message clearly that this discussion was over.

It forces him to think back to his original train of thought.

Garrus felt torn. Inexplicably, he couldn't help but feel his duty weigh heavily on him. He should stop her from peddling the merchant's wares, but they are all legal. It is only the fact that she does not have a work permit that trips his C-Sec sense of duty. However, she is also not paid in credits so it could be termed akin to a family member helping out at the shop. Only she is obviously not related in any way, shape, or form to the owner. He clicks his mandibles once in indecision. His visor takes in Shepherd's calm heart beat and steady eyes. It is almost as if she knows what he is debating and still she calmly waits.

It impresses him that she doesn't try to plead or cajole him. And, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't half surprised she doesn't bring up the information she's fed him which would be worth at least a few favors. She does none of these things, choosing instead to look up at him patiently and instinctively he knows that if he rats her out she will never get the chance at a legitimate side-job with a vendor again.

He could take her aside and explain why it is against three ordinances but he sees the Turian shopkeeper edging toward the door with suspicious eyes focused on Shepherd. His mandible twitches once in indecision.

"Is there a problem officer?" The turian business owner asks somewhat sharply, a question in his harmonics. Garrus looks down at the serene human eyes and bites back a growl.

"No, not at all," he lies charmingly with his fate plates shifted into a bright greeting, "I was just asking your assistant here more about your stock. I must say," he warbles with near conviction, "she's more knowledgeable than I would have thought. I know a few of my fellow officers that would be pleased with a few of these modifications."

It works and the other Turian relaxes, his gaze coming off Shepherd to look politely at Garrus. But, he is too busy seeing the look of relief flash behind the human's eyes. It causes him to feel a tightening around his heart that he cannot quite explain. So, he rationalizes that she expected him to betray her and that it didn't sit well.

It sounded plausible enough to him. But it did not stop him from wanting to shake her and tell her she could do better than the ducts as well.

"Tell your friends to come by anytime," the shopkeeper rumbles kindly, "I give discounts to C-Sec."

Garrus knows a sales pitch when he hear one, and graciously mumbles back some small talk. It continued until Shepherd wandered off to help another customer and Garrus watched her.

"You don't need to worry," the other Turian says quietly, "she's a good human. Never causes any trouble."

Garrus blinks, and then turns his eyes slowly to the other Turian. It was painstakingly clear that the male thought him to be a racist. It did not do a thing to improve his mood.

"I didn't think she did," he replied equally as quiet.

The shopkeeper gave him a look and nodded slowly and then shuffled off to look after other customers. It left Garrus with a bitter taste in his mouth that another Turian had so openly defended her.

Because some part of him couldn't help but believe that was his job and no one else's. Promptly he roused himself from such a thought and shook his head. He really needed to get home and take a break. His mandibles tightened closer to his face, and he decided that it was high time he called an old female friend of his to help him ease some tension.