4 Years Previous- C-Sec

"Humans."

Faces rose towards the instructor, their eyes suddenly attentive as he entered the room. The older turian paced a moment, letting his succinct introduction to today's lesson hang in the air.

"They are brash, unpredictable; in a fight, one human may turn and run, and another will fight you to the death. They place a high level of importance on individualism, and on personal feelings. Undisciplined, as a species. However, disciplined enough to have mounted a full-scale offensive during what they charmingly term the 'First Contact War.'"

"Or as a turian would say, 'You Call That a War?'" muttered one cadet.

Garrus turned that thought over in his head a moment as some of the other C-Sec cadets chuckled. Another student adjacent to him lifted a hand to signal the instructor. "Sir, we did fire the first shot, and before executing proper reconnaissance on the situation. I've found most humans I've interacted with prefer diplomatic solutions."

Garrus turned to level a derisive snort at his peer. "I wonder if you also think that we should have also diplomatically asked for the Krogans' permission if they would please allow us to severely curb their reproductive rate for the safety of the galaxy?"

The other turned his head aside to deflect the indignity of his words being so well turned on him. "Not at all. I only…no. I simply imagine were we to suggest to them we regret what happened, it would serve to dramatically improve interspecies relations."

The older turian was observing the exchange impatiently, and Garrus declined to further cause interruption. The instructor filled the silence after a few long moments. "There is presently a wounded human in the Wards infirmary. Apparently the other night during a bout if intoxication he made an aggressive advance on a turian, who proceeded to defend himself. The human's explanation was that his gesture was intended as friendly, if in poor judgement. This altercation occurred thanks to ignorance of alien culture, not as a result of a past war between our peoples. That is the point of courses like this one."

Garrus glanced over at his shamed colleague, somewhat remorseful at his verbal rebuke. "Don't worry. You'll learn."

"I'll learn?" the younger turian sounded taken aback. "I shouldn't be surprised to hear that coming from a Vakarian, but honestly. It's on us if we can't be bothered to discern between a simple pat on the back and an assault."

Garrus scowled at having his family name brought into the discussion. "The human in question didn't exactly check with the turian before invading his space."

"Fine, equal fault then. That shouldn't be the same as the human being at sole fault."

"If the two of you are quite finished," their instructor growled, and Garrus bit back his stinging reply. Their teacher continued. "Fine then. Now we will observe an instructional vid on human interrogation, followed by a hands-on demonstration of weak points in both males and females."

After Harbinger

Breathless, damp with sweat, they grappled on the floor of the cargo hold. It had been hard enough to get a grip on her in the beginning. Now, a half hour or better into it, it was damn near impossible. And she just kept going. He finally got her down on the mat, but he was starting to feel the first pangs of strain deep in his sinews.

"Good try," Shepard grunted as she squirmed under him. Her leg drew suddenly up from underneath him and she planted her foot against his torso. With a mighty push, and simultaneously yanking her wrists from his slick grasp, she twisted to her side and deftly shot out from under him. He made a quick grab as she turned her back to him, grabbing her arms and pushing her back into the ground using her own momentum against her. She hit the mat again, this time on her stomach and with her arms pinned securely to her sides. Garrus leaned in close.

"This would have been much more fun in your quarters."

"No room," Shepard panted nonchalantly. "And if you think this if fun I'm obviously not going hard enough on you."

"Interesting. I was starting to think you were letting me win," he murmured wryly.

POW! With a forceful backward jerk of her neck, she'd head-butted him square in the face. He gave a sharp growl of surprise, giving her the opening she needed to wriggle out of his pin again. She was on her feet impossibly fast, going for a knee to his side. He grabbed it just as it connected, spinning sharply and pulling them both into a tumble along the ground, several feet from the mat. He found himself hovering over her again, and she seemed content to leave it at that. She started laughing, a weary, puffing laugh that he felt compelled to join her in. He rested himself on his elbows, setting the side of his head against her chest. Garrus listened to the rapid beating of her heart for a few long moments.

"So. Who won?"

"Definitely you," Garrus murmured almost sleepily. Shepard noted his tone and gave him a light shove.

"You sure? Because I could keep going."

"It's late, Shepard," Garrus sighed and sat up. He offered her a hand up, but instead of accepting it she took his hand and peeled the glove from it, then pressed it against her own as though to draw a comparison. Her five, slender fingers were soft and cool against his own thicker three. They basked in the stillness for a few moments.

Finally Shepard sat up, and in the dimness of the cargo hold she pulled Garrus close. He reciprocated the embrace, resting his face against her neck. Contentment. This was right. It was something he hadn't quite accomplished before- having something that was distinctly his.

"You said something about retiring to my quarters," Shepared huffed, bursts of her breath warm against his fringe. He sighed.

"I think I'll pass tonight. I've gotten looks-"

"Garrus. No one on this ship is going to care. I thought we didn't care, either." Shepard sat back, her brow furrowed at him. He was pretty certain that indicated a degree of displeasure.

"I'd like to lay low for a while, all the same. Humans do things differently from turians-"

"Enough of that, all right? This isn't conventional, so why do we have to fit it into one racial convention or the other?"

Garrus climbed to his feet. Getting into an argument wasn't exactly something he wanted to deal with tonight. "Look, commander. We have time. Let's just…let it breathe, all right?"

Shepard stared at him a good while, then shook her head. "Fine." It left him a bit confused, having learned that gesture as normally indicating a negative. He chose not to dwell on it, insured making his way to the elevator, leaving the commander to stew. He had to think.