He was wandering around the ship when Kasumi beckoned him over to her, a mischievous little smile on her face. Not that that was new, that smile seemed permafixed there, in the gloom under her hood. They stood near the door to the starboard observation deck, where he knew their resident asari justicar made her home.
"Yes, O'Purloiner of Purses and Pocket-change?" He looked down at her, amused. She seemed charged, bouncing a little in place.
"Shhh, listen." She put a finger over his mouth and gestured to the closed door next to them.
Sounds filtered through the door, soft melodious sounds. Garrus turned back to Kasumi questioningly. She leaned up to whisper in his ear, "Shepard gave Samara some music. They're all in there listening to it right now."
"Who's in there?" Shepard was sharing this part of herself with the crew? He felt glad and sad at the same time. Just another step closer to the core of her, it would all end in tears he was sure of it.
"Samara, Shepard, Mordin, Kelly and, I think, Thane. Gimme a minute to rig this door to open silently and we'll join them." She tapped at her omnitool for a moment and the doors slid open slowly, with barely a sigh. The music poured over Garrus as he reverently entered.
Shepard, Mordin and Samara stood shoulder to shoulder gazing out at the sea of stars, their backs to him. No one moved, they seemed lost in the music, but their arrival was noticed by one man. A man who watched them solemnly over the tops of his steepled fingers from where he stood in the shadows. Garrus nodded to him in greeting, receiving one in return. Not willing to interrupt, Garrus closed his eyes and listened.
The music was soft and slow and bittersweet. A human man and woman were singing a duet, they rose and fell around each other in a language he didn't understand. He'd always found human voices to be a little flat, not multitoned like turian voices, but that didn't detract from this glorious synergy. A choir chimed in to accentuate the soft accompaniment, lending the climbing fervor of the singers a rising triumphant note. He wanted to keen at the beauty of it. As the last note died away, they all swayed a little in its absence, no longer pulled to its rhythms.
A long silent moment passed, not unlike the kind you find at funerals, as they mourned the loss of it, but underlying the sorrow was the feeling that if it had go on forever, that would have diminished it somehow. Samara turned shining eyes slowly to Shepard, who smiled knowingly, "I..thank you, Shepard. That was...the only word I can think of is sublime. I feel touched by the music of the spheres."
The two women turned slowly in place, rotating in pleasing symmetry. Mordin laid a hand on the window, leaning on it as if for support. For once, the doctor was silent, lost in thought.
Samara cleared her throat gently and addressing Shepard said, "I didn't understand the language. What were they saying?"
"It's Italian, an earth language that most operas are written in." She took a deep breath, locking gazes with Garrus, whose knees almost buckled at the joy he saw in them, "Joyous Love seemed to me...the while he held my heart in his hands, and in his arms, My lady lay asleep...wrapped in a veil -"
She was cut off by a deep gravelly voice from her right and her gaze tore away from the turian, who shuddered slightly in the wake of its passing, "-He woke her then...and trembling and obedient, she ate that burning heart out of his hand. Weeping, I saw him then depart from me."
Everyone turned their gazes to the drell then, who pushed himself off the wall and walked slowly to where Shepard was, a bemused look on her face. He stopped before her, saying, "La Vita Nuova, written by Dante Alighieri."
"The benefits of a classical education." He said in response to their questioning looks. He shrugged elegantly, and took Shepard's hand between both of his, "Thank you, Shepard. I will honor the gift of this new memory."
With that, Thane turned and left, hands clasped behind his back. Garrus was alarmed to note that Shepard's eyes followed the man until he was out of sight. He couldn't bring himself to recognize the flash of jealousy that he felt then, it seemed so petty in the face of that glorious rapture that had entranced them all. So small was he, so insignificant, all the deaths he brought to the universe couldn't add a single moment of perfect beauty like the one that just occurred.
He caught Shepard's elbow as she walked past him, sighing down into her questioning eyes. For just a moment, he let himself show his feelings for her in his gaze and maybe he was imagining it, was probably imagining it, but he thought he saw an echo deep down in those jade depths, "Shepard, I need to speak to you about something."
Her hand moved to his shoulder, but he couldn't look at her now, burning so brightly, instead looking at the deck at his feet, "Of course, Garrus. When?"
He almost gasped in relief, "Give me a few days to...sort things out. I'll let you know."
Shepard's hand glided down his arm and squeezed his hand, then she was gone, walking with purpose out of the room and into the galley. Garrus let out a shuddering breath, his hand felt burned from where she'd touched him. He turned to regard Mordin, who was still standing over by the window. Samara stepped over to him and put her arm around his thin shoulders, which seemed to be shaking up and down with some emotion. Kasumi was already gone, or to all appearances anyway. So instead of intruding on the other two, he left as well, trying to forget that he'd seen the doctor weeping. Spare the man the shame, at least.
His thoughts drew back to the crew. All these disparate entities that crowded this ship, some clashed painfully with others and Shepard nevertheless brought them together, for more than killing. Was it possible that he wasn't the only broken one here? That they all had lost faith somehow. He didn't know what to do with that. Maybe that's one reason they had isolated themselves in different parts of the ship, so their raw edges didn't rub. Spirits, he was so blind, he'd thought himself so alone.
This was the same trap that'd almost snared him on Omega, almost robbed him of sanity, had robbed him of the good men and women he'd lead. His perception was shifting, this was so outside of everything he'd ever been taught in the military, or by his father, he felt he was on the cusp of some great revelation. It was just out of reach. Understanding was so close, he could taste it.
"You're going to give yourself an aneurysm." Kelly popped up at his side, jarring him out of his thoughts. He felt slightly guilty for not noticing her following him from the observation deck.
He rubbed the back of his neck, unnerved by the presence of the too gregarious Cerberus psychologist, he was never able to tell just who pulled her strings, Cerberus or Shepard. Such openness of expression was almost obscene to him now, after spending so much time around Shepard, like he could see her undergarments. Not that he wanted to see her undergarments. Surely no one could be so transparent and yet give away nothing. "What do you mean?"
"You're thinking so hard. You're always thinking so hard, when you're not joking with people anyway." Her smile begged him to say what was on his mind. He resisted with difficulty.
"That," Garrus waved his hand vaguely behind them, "is food for thought."
"Hmm. It was beautiful music." He almost rolled his eyes at this gross understatement. She walked with him as he made his way to the gun battery, "You know, Garrus, sometimes people talk to me. You know, you could talk to me. Tell me why, for example, you stopped requisitioning so many..ahem..liquid supplies."
"Uh, yeah, well, it's not important anymore," He looked around nervously for anyone who might be close enough to hear their exchange.
"If it's not important, then why don't you tell me." The woman was persistent, and he felt that if he got her to break off this line of questioning with as much fervor as he'd like, it would be like kicking a small harmless pet. Better to deflect, he reflected.
"If you'd like to help me relieve some stress, maybe you'd like to...spar with me." He made his expression into an open invitation, knowing that the odds of someone in such a xenophobic organisation accepting such a blatant proposition were unlikely. He almost crowed when her face flushed and her eyes took on a panicked gleam.
His jaw dropped when she stepped closer and said, her voice a low purr, "Where?"
"Um, see, I-D-Down in the cargo bay, you know, where the exercise equipment and pads are." He backpedaled hard. He saw disappointment flash in her face for a moment, "And now if you'll excuse me, Miss Chambers, I have calibrations to do. I'll send you a message."
Locking the door behind him, he leaned against it, letting out a relieved breath only to yelp when Kasumi popped into existence sitting on a crate next to him. She was holding her sides and laughing, air coming out in wheezing little breaths.
"Spirits, Kasumi! Stop doing that." He held a hand over his wildly beating heart for a moment, catching his breath.
"You heart-breaker you, Garrus. Don't you go toying with that redheaded minx. We'll drown in the tears of all your jilted lovers." She slapped her thigh in amusement, her chuckles drifting off to nothing.
"Me, toying with her? I think she was the one doing all the toying." He shuddered at the memory of the lust in her face, "Or trying to toy with something anyway."
"Our Miss Chambers is a curious one. Who'd have thought she'd have such an eye for let's say...exotic fare." It was a sneaky little grin that was on what he could see of her face, "Not that I can blame her. After all, I know I do. Mmmmm."
"As if anyone could miss the googley eyes you've been throwing in a certain cerberus operative. Hardly exotic, he's human." He turned to the console, he hadn't run simulations yet today and he was eager to get started. Plus, he had an idea about upgrading the weapon systems.
"You don't find humans exotic?" Her tone was teasing and light, but he could hear genuine curiosity there.
"I'm not a raging xenophile, I'll have you know." Garrus shook his fist at her in mock anger.
"That's not an answer, Garru-kun. That is, in fact, a non answer." She pulled her knees up to her chin, looking childlike.
He turned back to his monitors, "I wouldn't even know where to start."
"So that's a yes, then." She clapped once, excitedly. "So if Garru-kun had the thought, who did he have the thought about?"
He didn't deign to give her a response, tapping away on his computer, hoping she would take the hint. But she didn't, of course.
"Miranda." Garrus snorted in derision.
"Jack." He turned an incredulous eye on the thief, who smiled affably back at him, "Thought I'd start with the least likely."
He refused to play this game and continued his work, dead set on silence.
"Well, not me obviously, no matter how much he may flirt. And not our yeo-man, who seems to be trying to get into every pair of pants on the ship, whether or not they happen to have a penis." Oh why won't she leave me alone, her inquisitiveness was getting irritating.
"Kasumi, I'm trying to get some work-"
"Samara." She interrupted, eyeing him critically.
He huffed in exasperation, turning on her, arms flung wide, "Yes, it's Samara. Are you happy now? I want to, what do you humans call it, do her. Alot. It's all I-"
"So, not Samara, then." Well, crap, his mind started racing, trying to find a way out of this situation. Kasumi cocked a hip and stroked her chin, thoughtfully. Garrus knew he was trapped, and neatly, why do I never see these things coming? Some tactician I am. He cringed in anticipation as she continued, "I wonder...who...it could be? What kind of person gets Garrus Vakarian all hot and bothered? Must be one hell of a lady."
Leave it to a thief to want to twist the knife. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he turned to the monitors again. He sighed, resignedly, readying himself for the inevitable ridicule.
"Well-" Kasumi leaped off the crate, walking to the door, palmed the lock, "I guess we'll never know."
Garrus blinked at this sudden unexpected reprieve, standing stock still until the door was once again closed. Then he leaned on his desk, shoulders slumping. Ironically, he found himself in the same situation he was in on the first Normandy. He loved Shepard, he knew this at his core. But it seemed destined to remain unrequited. He didn't have it in him to attempt to start any sort of...well anything with her. She was so high above him, he couldn't even reach her boots, hell couldn't even see her boots. What did he have to offer?
And she seemed, I don't know...interested, in the drell assassin, he thought, a sudden pain in his chest, he does have some sick moves. That whole classical education thing...genius. Evil genius.
The only honorable thing to do would be to step aside, not...interfere at all. He put his head on his arms, crunched over at the waist. He would weep at the anguish he felt at the thought of her with anyone else if he could. He knew that he would always be there for her, no matter what. He mentally prepared himself to be happy for her when she chose some worthy to walk at her side.