There is nothing on Rannoch, or in Heaven, or among the stars that is more beautiful or of greater value than a good friend found somewhere unexpected.
- Rhana T'paleen vas Kalas, Quarian Admiral
Tali really didn't know what to think of Commander Shepard.
In the alley when they'd met he had been like a demon, grinning and laughing and blowing people away with close-range blasts from a sniper rifle. He was... dangerous. It had taken every ounce of courage she had in her, and all her considerable reserves of burning curiosity, to go with him. It had been the best and the most terrifying decision of her life. She only had to fight alongside him once to know that, and the more she saw the more both feelings grew in her.
And then he had started coming down to see her in the engine room. She had been cautious, intimidated even, at the beginning. He was always so focused when they were working, not one for idle banter unless he was the one that started it. When eyes turned to him he could be as solemn and stately as a saint, the soul of professionalism.
The first time he told her a dirty joke she almost fell over on her ass. Then he started asking her about the engines, and really seemed to understand her answers. By the time one week had passed he understood them better than a number of the junior engineers. He'd shown her a math joke the other day that involved several calculations on Krogan moving at light speed in a vacuum. It had been surprisingly funny, and completely brilliant. He never made her feel like an alien. He was kind.
And dangerous. No amount of grins or laughter could erase that from him. He was funny, and brilliant, and kind, and ruthless, and dangerous. She'd seen him carve through a room of mercenary soldiers with a sort of deadly elegance usually reserved for predators in the nature vids.
Sometimes he would crack a joke, right in the middle of everything. Once, with his shields failing, she had seen him take a blast from a pistol. Blood had splattered the crates behind him and Shepard had laughed, LAUGHED, like it was some sort of game. He was fearless.
She really did not know what to make of him, until that day.
He liked to wander on the Citadel. That day they had found a strange little store squirreled away on a higher level of the wards that sold all sorts of ridiculous nicknacks from all corners of the galaxy, most of dubious quality. Shepard had been very entertained by volus action figures, he'd bought three of them as Tali looked at a number of ornate crystal bird figurines that were reportedly handmade on Thessia. Somehow, she doubted it. They were remarkably ugly.
"What kind of action figure doesn't have karate chop action?" Shepard asked, appearing at her shoulder with one of the figures held out. He squeezed the thing and it let out a remarkably life like volus wheeze, but other than that appeared to have very little in the way of 'action' functions. "An awesome kind, that's what. If I was a little younger I'd steal some grenades from the armoury and blow the crap out of these things."
"Why did you buy three of them?" Tali asked, taking the little rubber figure from him and squeezing it herself. It was kind of cute, in a way. Little rubber googly-eyes pressed against its eye lenses every time she squeezed.
"I've got a couple friends that'll get a kick out of them. They'll probably actually blow them up though, they're all posted on-planet," he sighed, "saving the galaxy is so inconvenient sometimes. I hate being respectable."
Tali laughed, he looked too put out with his situation for her to keep a straight face.
"Well, I don't know about grenades," she said softly, with a conspiracy in her voice. Shepard made a dramatic show of checking to see who was listening and leaned in close. "But I know a dextro restaurant a few levels down that sells fireworks out of their back door."
"Fireworks?" Shepard asked.
"Really big fireworks. The kind that could turn an action figure into a blob of melted offal."
Shepard blinked at her for a moment, his face pensive, thoughtful. Then it split into a huge grin, spread from ear to ear. He grabbed her shoulder and jostled her around, the way he did with Ashley and Kaidan. It made her absurdly pleased with herself to be accepted so completely.
"What's going on?" Garrus asked, appearing from one of the aisles and giving them a suspicious look.
Shepard trod purposefully on her foot as Tali opened her mouth to answer.
"Nothing, Vakarian. Just picking up gag-gifts for a couple old friends," he made brief eye contact with Tali and shook his head, just slightly.
Tali had to stifle a giggle. It had been a long time since she got up to any mischief, what with coming into adulthood and leaving the safety of the Fleet for a galaxy that probably would have labelled a Quarian blowing up action figures with fireworks as terrorism. The grin they exchanged made her feel like a pigeon-toed little girl again and she found it strangely comforting.
"Send me the address to that restaurant," Shepard muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "And meet me there later tonight, after we've dumped Johnny Law back on the ship." He gestured to Garrus with his thumb, rolling his eyes dramatically.
Tali couldn't hold it in this time. She giggled, and clamped her hands over the imput-output of her helmet. Garrus looked over his shoulder at her, his mandibles twitching curiously. She just shook her head and laughed harder, her shoulders shaking. Shepard shortly joined in, and the Turian just looked more confused.
"Never mind," Shepard slapped him on the shoulder pad, "come on, let's head back to the ship."
A friend is someone who sees you for who you are, and puts up with you anyway.
- Atturan Bittick, Turian Artist
"Do you know what my father would say if he could see me now?" Garrus asked, incredulously as he appeared at Shepard's elbow.
"Your human friend is almost as ugly as you are?" Shepard guessed with a grin.
"He'd say you've proved every bad thing ever said about the Spectres completely, one-hundred percent correct," Garrus groused. But he took the seat Shepard gestured to. The bar was small and quiet, a place for drinking rather than dancing. Compared to the screaming, flashing, pulsing noise-hole of Chora's den, or the slightly less offensive Flux it was positively low key. It's clientele was almost entirely human.
"A dextro-something for my friend," Shepard ordered when the waitress approached.
"Alcohol doesn't have enough protein content to trigger a reaction," Garrus was still scowling, or at least doing the Turian equivalent of scowling. The angrier he got the stiller his face went, even his mandibles drawing in close to his jaw and going still. An angry Turian was a still and silent Turian. "I'll have vodka with tonic water."
"That's a girl's drink," Shepard said as the waitress wandered off.
"It's better than drinking 'dextro-something' out of a plastic bottle. I don't think this place sees a lot of alien business." Garrus accepted his drink from the waitress, poured into a square glass that fit his alien mouth a little better than the round ones humans seemed to favour. He didn't look Shepard in the eyes.
Silence sat between them for a long moment. Shepard was drinking bourbon from a mostly empty bottle in the middle of the table. He splashed himself a generous three finger top-up before leaning back in his seat and visibly committing to the conversation that was obviously coming.
"Come to offer me your resignation, Vakarian?"
"I was thinking about it. I don't want to."
"Then don't. I like having you on the ship, it saves me from trying to shanghai some ensign into fumbling around with the Mako. Also, you look good in the press shots. Really kumbaya."
"I don't know what that means."
"Of course not. What I'm trying to say is you're useful, capable, you do good work and I like having you around," he lifted his glass and drank. "So don't go."
"You got arrested," Garrus pointed out.
"I didn't get arrested, I'm a Spectre. C-Sec just showed up and politely asked me to stop doing what I was doing."
"Blowing up volus action figures."
"Right."
"With fireworks."
"Right."
"Why? Why would you do that?" Garrus looked up from his own, scarcely touched drink. His dusty blue eyes were as expressive as wet marbles to Shepard's untrained eyes. He really needed to brush up on his non-human facial expressions.
Shepard frowned, putting his glass down on the table. He studied Garrus for a long moment, trying to decide exactly how to explain himself to this strange, stiff-backed person. He didn't know if Turian's even had a sense of humour. Garrus certainly never laughed at any of his jokes. Then again, that might not be because he didn't have a sense of humour.
"I did it because it sounded like fun. And it was fun. We tied each limb to a different rocket and set them all off at once, it was great."
"And you did that from the top of a walkway in the middle of Presidium. Do you have any idea how many regulations and laws you broke just to have a bit of fun?"
"Judging from the lecture-mode you've gone into I'm going to guess... a lot."
"Yes, a lot would be a good way to begin." Garrus sighed, rubbing at his neck underneath the thick spines that comprised his head fringe. "Help me out here Shepard. I've seen you fight. I've seen you lead. I've seen you talk to politicians. But this... I don't get this. It's kid stuff."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," Shepard sighed, rubbing his forehead and dragging his fingers up, through his chemical red hair. "It was kind of stupid. But those are the best parts of life sometimes, so when you get the chance to have a bit of fun... why not take it? Especially during times like these."
"It just seems so irresponsible," Garrus' voice was troubled.
"It is irresponsible," Shepard shrugged, "so what? Everyone's irresponsible sometimes, and everyone isn't running around the galaxy trying to save it from the geth as a day job. I thought I earned the right to throw some fireworks off a Presidium walkway. And it made Tali happy. She's got a pretty laugh, I like hearing it."
He shrugged again.
"So... that's why I did it Garrus. That's all the explanation I can give you. If it's not good enough... well I hope you can recommend someone who's at least half as good with a wrench and sniper rifle as you are. Snipers work better in pairs."
That was true. Everyone knew that. And Shepard was... with Shepard it was better than most. He was so good, Garrus knew he couldn't turn away from this. There was Saren, and what he had done to the good name of Turian's everywhere, and there was the responsibility he felt for doing something to help the galaxy. All that was very important. But what would he do if he left the Normandy now? Go back to C-Sec? Go back to filling out paperwork and dodging around red tape all damn day and never getting anything done?
"Well next time... next time you could invite me along," he said, looking up. "If I'm going to have to hear my father lecture me about what my commanding officer is doing I'd like to at least have a piece of the fun."
"Deal," Shepard shot down the rest of his bourbon and reached for the bottle. He drained that as well, and set it down empty beside his glass. "For now, let's go find a place where you can get something better than a vodka and tonic. Seriously, I can't be seen with a man who drinks like a grandmother."
"Didn't you just drink a whole bottle of... whatever that is?" Garrus asked, his mandibles quivering on the edge of laughter.
"You clearly never went to Calypso Technical Academy," Shepard drawled. "That's barely even 'before dinner' drinking. We haven't even started on our male bonding drinking."
"I'm not going to lie," Garrus said dryly, "I'm a little scared."
"Good," Shepard grinned, "fear is good. Now let's go."
Laughter is what makes up the real conversation between friends.
- Shaelgrath, Krogan Battlemaster
"So Shepard, why do you come down here?" Wrex asked.
Shepard looked up from where he was reclining on top of a pile of shipping containers. He was looking a little rough around the edges, his usually immaculate jaw drizzled with thick black stubble, his hair uncombed, and deep black circles standing out under his eyes. He took another long sip out of the mug he'd brought with him, coffee-scented steam rising out of it in clouds.
"It's quiet," he said.
"That's why I like it," Wrex said, pointedly. "I don't want you down here trying to chat me up like you do with the Quarian."
"I wouldn't dream of it. Though I do know this awesome joke about Krogan travelling at light speed in a vacuum, if you've got a pen and a working understanding of quantum physics."
Wrex didn't laugh, Shepard could barely imagine him really laughing. He did sort of shift and look over his shoulder, making eye contact with him for the first time during their last five short and ultimately directionless conversations.
"You like jokes?" He asked.
"I don't like being serious. You might have noticed that about me."
"Fine. So there's this restaurant up on the Presidium and an asari has heard from all her little blue friends that it's the best place to eat in ten systems. In particular she's heard they make a mean varren stew."
"Wait, are you seriously going to tell me a joke?"
"Not if you keep talking."
"Sorry. I'm just honoured is all." Shepard put his coffee down and crossed his legs, setting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. He looked like a little kid getting ready to hear a story before naptime. All he needed to do was clap his hands together to complete the image. "Go on."
"Right, she's heard the varren stew is good. So she goes to the restaurant and asks for the stew, but the waitress tells her they've sold the last bowl to the Krogan sitting beside her at the bar. She looks over and sees the Krogan has finished his meal, but the bowl is still full so she asks him if he's going to eat it. He looks at her for a long minute and says 'no, help yourself' so she does.
She takes it and starts to eat but when she gets about halfway to the bottom of the bowl her spoon comes away full of dead mouse. She stops, gags, and then throws up all the stew back into her bowl.
The Krogan notices and looks over at her as he's paying his bill.
'Yeah,' he says, 'that's about as far as I got too' and then he leaves."
"Aww," Shepard's lips pulled up in a grimace at the thought, his face taking on a green tinge as nausea mixed with his hang over. "That's vile."
And then he laughed. To his surprise, Wrex laughed too.
"Is all Krogan humour based on bodily functions?" He asked after his stomach had calmed.
"Most of it. Definitely all of the good stuff," Wrex chuckled. "Let's hear this light speed joke then."
"I've got a better one, now that I think about it," Shepard leaned back again, resting on his elbow as his legs dangled over the edge of crates. He wracked his brain for a suitably filthy joke to replace his light speed one, going back to his months in Basic to make sure he'd picked the right one.
"So a Turian, a Batarian and a Vorcha carry this bucket into a bar..." He began, wracking his brain to draw up all the hazy details of the old punch line. He sensed that he had picked well, and was rewarded when Wrex laughed loud enough to make Ashley look up from her station, a curious look on her face.
"You're alright, Shepard," Wrex admitted after they had stood a while in silence, letting the aftershocks of good humour work their way out.
"Coming from you that's one of the greatest compliments I've ever heard," Shepard laughed.
"Don't get used to it. I meant what I said, if you want small talk go talk to Alenko or something."
"Fair enough. Can I come to you for more jokes?"
"Maybe, if I think of any." Wrex paused, before throwing another look out of the corner of his eye at him. "You could stop by and check. You know, once in a while."
"Sounds good to me."