"No."
"Come on…"
"No."
"Shepard, Anderson invited us and we got to-"
"No."
"…is no the only word you know?"
"No…shit." Garrus covered up his chuckle and Shepard mentally face palmed herself.
"So are we going?" Garrus asked.
"Maybe. I don't know." Her voice was non-committed to the idea of spending time in a frivolous party. Especially dealing with people she didn't know.
"You're not doing anything else better. All you do is just sit up here and act like you're filling out reports and sending emails and feeding your dead fish. Let's just go. Make an appearance at least."
"Why are you wanting to go? It's not like turians enjoy military parties that have political wanna-be's and civvies in them as well." Shepard pointed out to Garrus, rolling her eyes.
"Actually we do enjoy them. Part of our culture. So we going or not?" Garrus rapped his talons on the wall, leaning against it. Shepard no longer thought of the multiple ways to physically hurt a turian when she sees Garrus in a vulnerable position. That cruel self-preservation military part of her disappeared, but that doesn't mean she still doesn't know how to do it. She remembered the 'I just want to have good times' turian who was bothering an asari dancer at Afterlife.
"Oh god no." Shepard rejected the idea again. No way was she slipping herself into Kasumi's party dress or her Cerberus formal dress uniform, medals on. Her medals…she snuck a glance at the case that held all her medals collected over the years when she was in the Alliance. Technically, she didn't need to wear them since she wasn't in the Alliance anymore. Politely, she could in order to make an even nicer and proper appearance when she arrived.
Garrus didn't accept that answer. He merely stood there, blocking her way to the bathroom.
"Move it Garrus. My bladder is going to explode."
"Nice." Garrus chuckled. Shepard crossed her arms. "I'll move if you say yes."
"You never did give me a straight up answer about wanting to go to this thing." Shepard rose a challenging eyebrow at him, throwing him a 'ha!' look.
"And you never did finish that breakfast meal I tried making you this morning." Garrus fired back.
Shepard opened her mouth. Then closed it. He got her. …"It was burnt." She offered weakly.
"I worked all morning on that meal for you!" Garrus feigned offense, hoping that this new tactic would work.
Shepard stayed silent, sighing loudly. "Fine!" She threw her arms up in exasperation, moving past him toward her bathroom. Garrus' mandibles fluttered, the full impact of him winning this argument evident on his face. Then he really started to question whether or not his cooking skills were up to snuff.
"Why do I always have to dress up every time we go out?" Shepard complained from over by her bed, staring down her limited supply of clothes.
"You didn't dress up for our first…date." Garrus had no idea what to call their first outing together. Was it really called a date?
"Oh…right." Garrus could hear her soft patter echoing, fully knowing that Shepard was pacing. Why was the Commander always so nervous about her outer appearance? Or any other human for that matter…
"Shepard, I'm sure that whatever you wear will be fine." Garrus assured her, staring at his reflection in the mirror in Shepard's bathroom. His battered up painted faded armor, he noticed, gave him an air of intimidation. It automatically made people back off. Just like Shepard's N7 armor. Maybe she could just wear her armor. Just like him…
Right before he stepped out and could tell her his suggestion, Shepard had disappeared in the elevator without saying a quick 'I'll be right back'. He merely shrugged, deciding to occupy his time by taking a quick tour of her cabin. He never really did take a close look at all her collected knick-knacks.
He stepped up to her fish tank, its blue lighting reflecting off of his armor. He rapped his talons on the glass, noting that there was no sign that forbid it. One solitary fish came out from hiding, practically pressing its body eagerly against the glass. Garrus tilted his head, the fish copying him. He backed off involuntarily, the fish doing the same.
Garrus shook his head, walking over to her desk, holopads cluttering his work space. He also noted on how irresponsible and disorganized it gave off to his Commander's appearance. If a C-Sec inspection officer came by he would probably rate it low and attach a note about it to her superior officer. However, they were not in C-Sec and technically Shepard had no superior officer, save the Illusive Man but he had no idea what was going on there. But still, Garrus felt inclined to organize it somewhat and started stacking the holopads in small neat piles.
Garrus was slightly proud of his job accomplished and noticed how one of her holoframes had fallen over. He reached over to pick it back up but didn't set it back down. He slowly examined it, the holoimage transiting from a standard picture of Kaidan Alenko and one of him and her from back on the old Normandy. Whether this was intentional, he'll never know.
Garrus tried and brushed it off as nothing, looking over at the various medals Shepard had received. She was quite the war hero whether she would admit it openly or not. And the scars evident on her pale skin were proof that she was.
"And what's this one from?" Garrus poked at her shoulder, a thin line only barely noticeable.
"Slight knife stab. Or at least, a poorly attempted one. I was scrapping with Finch, one of the older guys in the gang." Shepard explained, trying hard to look down at it.
"And this other one?" Garrus pointed at her other shoulder, a wound that would only originate from a deep gash or stab from years back he noticed.
"That one is from Sam. A rather nicely executed stab if you ask me." Shepard said casually, already knowing that Garrus knew the story behind that one.
"Oh."
"What about you? Any interesting scars you'd like to share?" Shepard actually looked genuinely interested.
"No. Well this one but you already know how I got that one." Garrus was referring to his face, the vivid image of the gunship gunning him down reappearing.
He shut his eyes.
He opened his eyes. He disallowed the reminiscing of memories to continue, passing by the chattering hamster who always seemed to freak out every time it saw him and back toward Shepard's bed. He saw Shepard's old dog tags, framed by Liara T'Soni, that one flighty asari from the old Normandy. But he remembered Shepard saying that she had changed from that sweet innocent scientist to a distant information hoarding broker. He couldn't imagine that.
Garrus circled around her bed again, going to her smaller desk that her old weather-beaten N7 helmet sat upon. He picked it up clumsily, barely holding onto it as he examined it closely. That cost him. He dropped it suddenly, inwardly gasping, and quickly bent down to save it from its fall. God forbid that Shepard might've stepped in at that moment and clobber him with her helmet.
He set it back down in its original spot, making sure that it lay exactly in its same position as before. Shaking his head slightly Garrus walked away from the desk and back up toward her larger desk, off where all her ship collectibles were stacked at. He squinted up at them, seeing how larger her collection had gotten since last time he was up here. In fact, she even had a Reaper ship.
Garrus soon grew tired of waiting, estimating that it's been a good twenty minutes since Shepard had left without a word. Before he was about to walk out and try to find her, he saw that her email browser was still up on her personal terminal. When he walked over to shut it off he saw one open email and it looked as if it had been read multiple times. His curiosity getting the better of him, Garrus sat down in her swivel chair which had been dented multiple times, and started skimming the contents.
The subject title was 'About Horizon…'
Don't worry. I haven't forgotten about this story.
I found the chapter when using my school laptop.
I haven't gotten on it in awhile so yeah.
There you go.
I own nothing.
Hope you enjoyed.
Read. Review. Roadkill.