Chapter 9

Eight months.

He lasted being a bodyguard—doing perpetually nothing most days—for eight months. Even Kaida, leaning forward on her hand as she read through datapads, offhandedly said she was surprised he hadn't staged his own coup just to have fun. John told him he wouldn't last four, contract be damned.

But, Spirits, eight months. Someone in the Citadel owed Garrus Vakarian a damn drink for lasting eight months without killing or destroying anything.

Killing anything had two meanings. A, hm—double entendre, (was he using that right?). It had been eight months since he had started working for Kaida and amassed a small fortune that was probably enough to run some obscure Space Station in the Terminus Systems. It had been six months since Kaida's last concert. Six months since he realized he had a not-so-subtle-crush-thing on his employer.

And she hadn't found out.

Granted, he was trying his damn best to conceal it under a hundred million other secrets and thoughts. Kaida never granted him any room however, she'd called him out for every little thing:

"You punched Al-Jilani in the face three years ago and erased the tape? Badass, Vakarian."

And,

"Your first love was a quarian on pilgrimage, huh. That's pretty cute, Vakarian. Did you ever find out if she went back to the Flotilla?"

Let's not forget,

"You said what to the recon scout? Reach and Flexibility! And she still slept with you?"

Frankly, he was running out of secrets. Moreover, it's like she was getting deeper and deeper to the core of him. What would she do if she found out? Fire him? Laugh at him? Crush his tiny, weak Spirit—she already kind of made him feel like he was twelve, shuffling his feet, trying to prove himself to his father all over again. There was a small difference, though. Back then, he had to prove his worth as a turian, as a son, as a Vakarian.

Now, he wasn't sure what he was trying to prove. But he didn't like the way she patted his arm to placate him when he was angry or when she excluded him from things he didn't understand. He could learn to be patient. He could learn about politics, or elcor trade routes or Hanar Enkindling philosophies or anything else that she meddled in.

He was sitting on his desk, sifting through his pile of datapads. Kaida at least trusted him on tech related tasks. It wasn't something she was strong at if it didn't involve disabling them or destroying them with her biotics. This one was about the feeds on Zakera and the Eclipse moving in to get a Red Sand ring running in the Citadel, but the evidence had been tampered with and he was tasked to find out a way to undo it. Across him, Kaida was there—still, but there— weighing heavily on him even if she wasn't watching him.

Several hours later, after tinkering with the holos to death he'd realized that he'd have to go down to Zakera to check the feeds himself and assist C-Sec in finding the leaders. He stood with a sigh, made his steps as light as he could, and stood in front of her with his hands behind his back.

Her eyes were unfocused. Was she asleep? He cleared his throat loudly. She looked up, slowly.

"You all right there, Kaida?"

"Garrus." She smiled up at him, lips pale. "Is there something you need?"

"Well, I was about to tell you I need to go down to Zakera—but now I'm worried about leaving you here. Are you all right? Is it another attack?"

She shrugged. The only time he had witnessed an attack was when Saren and himself got drunk and had a—moment. It still made the bile rise up his throat at the thought. Kaida shook her head, however. Again, she reached out to touch him. "I want that Eclipse problem solved, Spectre. Besides, you need to run into some trouble every now and then before you rot at the desk."

He stopped himself from jumping out of her reach, but then she would have suspected something. Her soft fingers felt like fire against the plates of his hands. He cleared his throat. "I tucked another gun under your desk with an extra clip."

"Of course." She smiled. "Happy hunting. Clean the blood off your boots before you come back inside. Oriana will pull your talons clean off if you track anything on her carpets."

He didn't have to kill anyone when he got to the site. But he did find a little Eclipse guy walking around, looking suspicious and wide-eyed. It didn't help his case when, upon seeing Garrus, the salarian made a run for it.

The questioning took place in C-Sec's main office and Garrus felt that wave of nostalgia bombard him along with the odd smell of cigarettes and sweat. The murmurs blanked the whole office, just below the voice of distinctly commanding officers about to send recruits on rounds—he hated those days, when he was made to stand in a line and listen to Chellick. Even when he was promoted to Investigator, it was the exact same thing only with Chellick as Prosecutor and a megaton more annoying.

Just nearly three years prior, he was one of these guys. Then he up and quit, got into Spectre Training—got commended and taken in by Nihlus. A year after, John joined them. Another year, and now he was back in C-Sec. Though he returned as a young Spectre now, in charge of the safety of the first human Councilor. It was exhilarating to get stares, salutes, and to be allowed into the questioning room without a second thought.

Heading back to the embassy with a kick to his stride, he opened the door to Kaida's office to find her slouching with the exact same look on her face when he left. He checked his omni-tool, he'd been gone for four hours and she hadn't moved at all?

"Kaida."

She didn't respond.

"Kaida? Kaida. Shepard!"

She blinked, turning her face up to look at him. She blinked several more times before smiling. "Garrus. Did everything go well?"

"We have the base's location, yeah."

She nodded. "Good."

"Are you—are you really alright?"

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "A little tired. The lack of systematic sleep is a little troublesome but I'll get used to it. Coupled with all the other things I have to worry about it."

"Didn't you have a hard time when you were in the entertainment business?" He took the seat in front of her when she motioned at it.

"The first few years, yes. But lately, life had been more comfortable. I'm not used to the same amount of stress."

"It's also been a while since you've trained with your military."

She nodded, standing. "Let's head back to the Ridge, Spectre."

"Right."

"So, you think sis is hiding something from you?"

John Shepard had pinged Garrus to tell him that he would only be in the Citadel for a week before going off to Ilium. Garrus took the opportunity to invite him to the Mahogany for a round (or seven) of drinks. Shepard was in in his civvies, not looking any smaller despite not wearing his armor, flriting with the new barmaid. Her smile was slow and wise as she served him his draft beer.

"Well, I'm sure she has one or two things she'd rather not talk about." He recalled that she had promised to tell him about—stuff. But it's not like he would share that with John. "But I think the secret is less personal to her and more—general."

"You mean it might involve the Council—or the galaxy?"

"Yeah."

"Really? You're sure? She has a lot of secrets in that brain of hers for her own reasons."

Garrus exhaled deeply. "She told me she'd tell me after some time. She's not the type to get frazzled by old news. No, there's something big going on and she just uncovered it."

John took a few deep gulps of his drink. "She was always the loner type. Mom said she was a slow reader. Didn't talk to people much, other than me and maybe an instructor here or there when we were in the Alliance Academy together. She worked up the ranks pretty quickly."

Garrus downed the Cipritine gris, the drink slid down his tongue like fire and he ordered another one. "You said she started two years before you?"

"Yeah. She started when she was 12, I started at 14."

A red flag rose. Garrus crunched the numbers in his head. He remembered some of the things, few as they were, about Kaida's childhood. She talked about being very young when she started training, much younger than 12 years old. She talked about asari handlers and their parlor tricks—and he also didn't recall any asaris handling other human children, let alone John talking about his own training (and he shared a lot about that, as one of those who benefited from the improved L3 implant).

One of those things John didn't know and Kaida didn't want him to find out.

He opened his mouth to point that out but paused, grabbing his new drink to cover his wide-eyes and open mouth. She had her reasons, Garrus thought. It was just something John shouldn't know. Maybe right now he didn't know why, but Kaida had said she liked his honesty. She wasn't the type to not answer a straight question. If he asked—would she answer?

I am my biotics. Garrus recalled her saying, looking up at the ceiling of the skycar with a strange smile on her face. What did she really mean by that?

A ping of an omni-tool, Shepard cursed as he looked down. "Damn, paperwork. The Council and their bookkeeping. I should go. Let's meet up for drinks another time?"

Garrus barely managed a nod with the thoughts swirling in his head.

"My, Spectre, you look more worn out than I do and you weren't in that last Council meeting."

Garrus crammed as many immediate thoughts into his head. He's survived a little more than eight months with a mind reader and he hadn't been found out. Not about his uncomfortable feelings for his boss nor about how he was suspicious of how distracted, worn, and pale she had become. Now, there she was, in front of him with a hand on his desk and a smile on her face.

"Ah, restless. A little."

There was the small shrug of her shoulders and a frown. "Not much to do, is there?"

He nodded with a chuckle. "With how much progress you've been doing lately—there are fewer duct rats in even the shadier wards of the Citadel."

She nodded. "We've erected a few orphanages. But now crime Intel is crawling. They're moving more cautiously. I've barely scratched the surface."

"If there's anyone who can find a way around this, it's you."

For something that was supposed to put her mind at ease, her frown only deepened. "I can imagine this is dull for a Spectre who's used to chasing criminals down and shooting things."

"Well," He scratched the back of his neck. "I do feel cramped by the peace at times but I prefer that criminals are being dealt with. When I was in C-Sec, there were at least reports of suspicious activity. Most days, there's barely even a blip. The quiet is—well, it makes me think that there must be something we're not seeing because I don't feel as secure as the Council wants me to be."

"Everything always looks better from the outside looking in?"

"Exactly, Kaida."

"Hm."

He tilted his head. "What?"

"You've lived an exciting life before this, right?"

"Uh, well, if you call getting shot in the leg and still managing to kick batarian slaver ass, then yes."

She chuckled. "How often did you catch a break?"

"Not often." He sighed. "Damn, I probably would have killed to just sit down for five minutes."

"Want to do something then?"

Garrus blinked. "Something?"

She pouted, Garrus hated it when she did that. Mostly, because his alien curiosity about human lips had always been scientific until he saw a vid or two about—human intimacy. Human intimacy involving lips slowly evolved to intimacy with Kaida Shepard's lips. Now, he had to think about a hundred other things to cover up how much he thought about her lips. "I hate to admit that my exciting days in the military are long past me. But one line of work replaced another, now when I'm tired I spend my rest days playing instruments or just staying in the Ridge."

"Really? Even outside of the Citadel?"

"A Ridge is bought or built in every major city where I have a large fan base." Her smile showed teeth. "Perks of being a popstar, Spectre."

"Damn."

"But," She turned away for a moment, facing the Citadel and the skyline. "No matter how long I stay in a system, I barely explore much."

"Let me guess: the paparazzi?"

"That's one reason, another is—well, I never really cared to fit it in my schedule. So," She leaned forward. "You know the Citadel like the back of your hand—"

"The what?"

"Oh, right. I mean, you know everything about the Citadel—you'd know where a Councilor and her Spectre bodyguard can go to avoid some unnecessary press and maybe have fun?"

"Hm," He said out loud but he could barely keep himself from shaking. "Councilor, are you asking me out?"

Her smile was bright and a healthy flush reached her cheeks. "Well, if that's what would get you to show me around, then sure."

He tapped his fingers on the desk. "What about today's itinerary? You have meetings until late this evening, right?"

She brought up her omni-tool. "You say the word, Spectre and they'll all be canceled."

"What? You'd skip out on the lunch with Councilor Tevos for a fledgling Spectre?"

She rolled her eyes. "She's over 500 years old. She'll get over it." With a push of the holo, a visual comm interface popped up, lighting up both their faces. "So, what will it be, Spectre? We go out and enjoy ourselves or we stay in the embassy and deal with another day full of papers and politicians."

He knew it was crazy to accept the offer. He shouldn't even had thought it would do them any good. If Kaida didn't find out about his feelings then they might get caught by paparazzi scouting the area, ready for the best vid or shot of them amongst the wrong crowd at a bad time—damn, Udina just finally died down a little and he really didn't want to give Kaida more things to worry about.

Kaida was doing that pouty thing, however. Damn.

"You better be paying, Councilor."

She grinned at him as she called Oriana through her comm. "Oriana, cancel all my meetings today. I'm going on a date."