This took a while, but I hope this chapter finds you well. I haven't really set a schedule for when to update yet so we'll see when the next will be up.

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Chapter 3

On the first day Garrus moved into the Ridge, three bags packed of his clothes and weapons—not much, considering he was mostly off the Citadel before this assignment. He walked inside and through the last door, Lily made no move to stop him. The white walls were as clinical as they were the last time and the distant sound of running water soothing.

Kaida looked up at him from her datapad, a cup of coffee in one hand, the smell of which made Garrus' nose wrinkle and snort. "Your room is to the left, Spectre. I've ordered some groceries for you as well."

"Thanks."

"By the way," She put her coffee down after a sip. "There is only one rule in the Ridge that must be abided by at all times."

"And that is…?"

She stood from her stool, her eyes hard. "Don't go up to the second floor."

He suppressed the small shiver and nodded, making his way to his room. Later, they spent most of the day in the same rooms— kitchen, living room, music room. They didn't talk the rest of the first day.

By the end of the fourth day, Garrus had noticed that Kaida kept her life in a predictable and ordered schedule. Almost to the point of madness. Her routine went: breakfast, music, reading, lunch, music, snack, music, holoscreen for the news, music, dinner, music, and bed. Breakfast was always the same coffee and toast, lunch was the same sandwich with baloney, mustard, and veggies that he couldn't name. Dinner was meat with mashed potatoes. There was never any wine, always water though she had given him the occasional turian wine, a smirk on her face that said: "You think too loudly."

Everything was just so… organized. In some ways, it reminded him of the stiff and meticulous way his father ran things at home. Obviously, Garrus never liked it—defying his father and carving his own way as Spectre. Even threats of disownment didn't faze him. His mother, a firm supporter of his dreams, had a lot to do with that.

In the Ridge though, Garrus would have gone mad if it wasn't for the fact that he also found the routine very amusing. It was also very different from the life of someone in the entertainment business—he was expecting more booze and drugs, maybe a few groupies.

"Not a chance."

Garrus jumped, he was frying a steak for himself for lunch when Kaida, standing on the tips of her toes, looked over her shoulder at what he was cooking.

"What?"

"Booze, drugs, groupies. I'm an artist, not a boar."

"Yeah, a bore."

"What was that?"

"Nothing." He flipped his steak and added a little seasoning. He heard her retreating footsteps. To his lack of luck, she decided to stay and watch from behind the counter and pulled a stool for herself to sit.

"Nervous?" she asked.

"Hm. Maybe, a little."

"You should be." He could hear the smile in her voice but he doubt she was actually smiling. "My manager is coming in today. You can do a standard background check. Her name is Oriana Lawson."

"Lawson?" He switched the stove off and allowed his steak to rest on the wooden board. He did really appreciate the finer points of the Ridge. Everything he needed seemed to be just where they should be. Shaking off those distracting thoughts, he opened up his omni-tool and read speedily through the profile. "There's some Intel here saying that she's the daughter of Henry Lawson, the business mogul that we've been trying to find some dirt on. And might be related to—"

"A Cerberus agent. Speculation, however."

"This sounds potentially dangerous. Why would you—"

"Hire her?" She smiled when the doorbell rang. "You ought to see for yourself."

"Kaida!" A female voice called from near the doorway. A slim form of a woman in a dark purple dress pushed forward, her heels clicking towards them until she reached the kitchen. She set a heavy leather bag on the counter, huffing. "I heard the Council stuck a Spectre dog on you—"

"Ahem, I'm in the room—"

"Whatever." She put her hand up at him, signalling for him to stop talking. He glared at Kaida's smirk. "Don't you worry, Kaida. We're going to sue their asses from galaxy to galaxy. Their people will be eating out of plastic doggy bags—"

"No need to be so crass, Oriana." Kaida patted her manager on the head. An otherwise condescending action looked tender in Kaida's case. Oriana was immediately satiated, taking a deep breath and sighing. "Just tell me about next week's concert in the Citadel."

"I have everything organized, Kaida."

"Concert? Kaida, you're about to become a Council member. You won't have time to—"

"Only if you complete our wager, Spectre. Otherwise, I make no such promises. Besides," Kaida slipped out of her seat and steered Oriana to the living room. "Even as a Council member, I will make time to keep my career up."

Oriana cleared her throat. "Besides, it's a small concert. It's more for Kaida's closer fan base. The bigger concert won't be months from now. We need to discuss that too, Kaida."

"You can't be serious." He received no reply as the two women began to chat. Sighing, he turned back to his steak and found it cold.

"I was also looking forward to your sheet music, Oriana. Have you finished?"

It was past dinner time when they finally finished their talk. Oriana was halfway through packing before she blushed to the roots of her hair at the mention of her sheet music. Garrus pushed off the wall he was leaning against, tired of looking like furniture for the past hour and a half.

"Oriana," Kaida said tenderly, reaching out a hand to rest on her manager's. "You're an amazing composer and an exceptional violinist. I hope I didn't force you into doing this."

"Uh. No, ma'am—Um, Kaida. It's just." She looked down at her hands and coughed. "I don't want people to think that I took my job as your manager just to pursue my own career."

"Nonsense." Kaida waved off the comment. "Please let me see your music when you can. We'll look through it. If you're shy about getting in front of the mics and cameras," Watching Oriana turn from pink to purple almost got Garrus to laugh—but it was a tender moment and he wasn't an ass. "Then we'll work on that. Together."

"Kaida—"

"Don't start. I owe you more than you owe me. Let me do this for you."

The two of them ate dinner together, as Garrus had cooked his own food earlier. Kaida also gave her manager one last hug before Oriana turned to leave, babbling last minute follow ups that would be resent to Kaida's extranet mail ASAP.

Garrus leaned against the far wall again, watching Kaida's back as she gave her friend one last wave.

"She's fiercely protective of you. And a good friend."

Kaida turned and walked passed him towards the stairs. "Good night, Spectre."

"You think that your friendship might count for something, if anything happened, so you aren't afraid of her betraying you."

Kaida didn't answer. She looked back at him, halfway through the staircase. "It won't even cross her mind. Even if the sister she never met came back and asked her to. Though, Oriana doubts that her estranged sister would ask such a thing."

"So, you do know about her sister."

"Because she does."

It was Garrus turn to be taken aback. "She knows she has a sister who works for Cerberus?"

Kaida looked up for moment. "Of a fashion, yes. She knows bits and pieces. I filled in the blanks through informants. I asked her before if she wanted to know who her sister was and if she wanted to find her." Kaida looked down with a smile on her face, though the look in her eyes wasn't a happy one. "She said that it didn't matter and that I was more like her sister anyway."

Kaida bade him good night again but Garrus was rooted to the ground, looking after Kaida's shadow as she disappeared passed the corner. How could it be such a horrible thing for Oriana to consider Kaida her sister? Why put on such a pained and wretched expression on your face when someone you cared about cared right back?

Garrus sleep was fitful and yet dreamless.

It was the sixth day and Garrus sat at their Spectre Spot in Mahagony, nursing his fifth Gris and feeling like garbage. No amount of prodding or watching was getting him closer to the answer. In fact, the fact that he saw her every day was completely throwing him off. As far as he could tell, Kaida's life was near perfect. She had the influence of a politician, the money of a black market dealer, and the charm and charisma of, well, a popstar.

She had the looks, intelligence, and the power to rule over all of them. Garrus was surprised she wasn't preparing to take over Thessia (not like they'll offer much resistance, statistics stated she made more money off asaris than any other council race) as the first system to wave the Kaida flag.

So, really, what in Spirit's name was stopping her from reaching greater heights? She wasn't lacking in self-confidence or ability. Everyone around her thought highly of her. Even the short few days he'd spent watching her and he had already formed a high opinion of her. She didn't fear failure or pressure—those didn't even seem possible.

If he didn't get the fear right then all the sacrifices he made—against his father and his family, his mother as his shield, his training—all of that would be flushed down the drain, as he heard Shepard say once. What possessed him to wager his life's work for a bet that would end in a week?

Right. Because he was dealing with a mind reader and he needed to show that he had every confidence that he would be able to get it. Prove himself after everything she accused him off: inexperienced, young, and unskilled.

"Spirits, I am so stupid."

"You don't say, Vakarian."

Garrus's blood ran cold at the sound of that voice and specific set of sub-vocals. He turned his head, slowly, gently—wishing that it was all just some illusion and the person beside him wasn't—

"Just because you close your eyes and pray to the Spirits, doesn't mean I'm going to suddenly disappear."

"Saren." Garrus grumbled as he downed his drink. "Just the person I wanted to see."

"Mind your manners, youngling. I can snap you in two without batting an eyelash and not even Nihlus can save you from me."

"I'm not as inexperienced as I was before, Sa— Spectre Arterius. You're not going to have such an easy time disposing of me. If you can."

"A lot of hot air, as usual. I suppose as your father suggested, you're only be suitable as a C-Sec grunt all your life."

Garrus tightened his grip on the glass before he downed it, he called for another one. "I didn't come to my favorite bar to be ridiculed by a has-been."

That seemed to ruffle all of Saren's feathers because he felt the older turian's glare burn right into his neck. Entirely justifiable because that said older turian could easily slit his neck because first, Garrus was beyond tipsy and second Saren was not a has-been. Saren Arterius was the end and the beginning when it came to Spectres. Though Nihlus was up there with him, Saren could do no wrong in the Council's eyes.

And that made him an asshole of the highest degree— the way he walked around like he owned the galaxy. Just he wait till Garrus was up there, he'd punch the old man in the face and laugh at his greying and cracked plates.

"And what are you here for, youngling?"

"Can't a Spectre enjoy a few drinks and not be questioned?"

"Not when he's on his tenth. Just know that if you destroy half of the Transit Hub in the Citadel with that damned Shepard again, then I will gladly put you in custody—you'll never be able to see the artificial light of the Citadel again."

"Downer."

"What was that?"

Garrus grumbled. "Wouldn't you want to know?"