There is nothing to be prized more highly than true friendship. It is strong enough to withstand true knowledge of a person, to cast aside darkness and ignorance. It is beautiful enough to allow us understanding, and to allow us to be understood. As rare as true love is, true friendship is immeasurably rarer.
- Ascendant Arut, Turian Monk
"I never understood how humans could maintain such a disgusting habit," Garrus sneered as Shepard brought his lighter to the end of his cigarette and puffed.
"You eat things while they're still alive," Shepard replied, arching an eyebrow in his direction. "There's a reason we've only gone out to lunch once in the entire time we've known each other. Seeing you shovel those things into your razor-studded maw made me want to puke."
"I don't eat kanzloc around you all the time," Garrus grumbled.
"You would if you could," Shepard replied, leaning back on the crate he had commandeered as his usual seat.
"Point," Garrus pretended to work for a moment longer then sighed and leaned back against his terminal. He produced a bottle with the triangular neck that typified Turian brew and pulled the cork, drinking deep. He paused with the cork raised and then offered it to Shepard, his mandibles twitching.
"No protein content, right?" He asked. "You always make me try your shit."
"I don't make you."
"You jammed a pressure point in my back to make me take the shot out of that Asari's cleavage on Omega," he pointed out, "don't think I won't do the same thing."
Shepard took the bottle and sniffed experimentally. Whatever was inside the bottle fizzed like carbonated water and smelled pleasantly sweet. He brought it to his lips and felt his eyes fill with water as the liquor flooded his mouth.
It wasn't unpleasant. The flavours exploded on his tongue, something tart and sweet, not like anything he could name. His nose itched like he had just bitten into a fresh ginger root, and there was a sticky note of something not unlike licorice, yet still very different. It was heady and strong, he could feel it settle warmly in his stomach as he swallowed.
"Jesus," he said as he examined the Turian label with renewed interest, "why haven't we been drinking Turian booze this whole time? We were in the bar on Omega for five and half hours and you never thought to mention that it was delicious?"
"I did mention it. You were pretty far gone by the time I got there though, so you weren't really up for paying attention."
"Fuck," Shepard sighed and exhaled smoke. "I don't know why you put up with all my bullshit Vakarian. I don't know why I feel so comfortable being a shit head to you. I mean, not that I'm not awful to other people, but I actually kind of enjoy bothering you. Actually, I really enjoy it."
"I have the patience of a saint," Garrus smirked. "But... do you remember when you poked that Batarian in all four of his eyes and started a fist fight with his friends because he was hassling Tali at the bar?"
"Yes!" Shepard nodded eagerly. "I remember that part! Zaeed elbowed that guy in the face so hard I thought his teeth were going to come out the other side of his head." He laughed. "Good times. Who knew he had such a soft spot for Tali?"
"And you remember when that asshole Salarian on the Citadel started getting in my face when we were drunk and you spat in his open mouth?"
"Man, I was like a two feet away from him to, that was a five-point shot," Shepard grinned. "Are you making your way around to something or should I be worried about you?"
"My point is you're kind of hilarious when you're being a shit head. You shove it all down and cover it up with brains and professionalism, but when you let loose it's... kind of amazing," Garrus laughed and shrugged. "What can I say? I like you, Shepard. And your pathetic human insults are a source of constant amusement to me."
"The extranet said I should tell you your fringe is discoloured if I really want to get to you."
"Yeah, that is quite the insult in Turian society. Kind of low-brow though."
"So, like, your fringe is so ugly blind women throw up around you? Would that be insulting?"
Garrus stared at him.
"Yes," he said stiffly.
"Or, your fringe is so discoloured it looks like you wash it with a hookers g-string? Something like that?"
"You're hilarious."
"The extranet also said I should call you fat. Garrus you are SO fat that-"
"Don't even start," Garrus cut him off with a wave of his hand, but he couldn't hold his laughter back. "Or are you just flexing your diplomatic muscles for your summit with me? Maybe you're testing some material for Wrex?"
"As if he needs the help," Shepard sighed and stubbed the end of his cigarette out on the edge the crate. "You know what's going to happen here, right?"
"I have some ideas," Garrus sighed, pulling the cork out of the bottle for a second swig. "We all knew it was going to come to this eventually. There was never any doubt that we would need the Krogan in order to fight the Reapers, and there was never any doubt that they were going to have exorbitant and unreasonable demands. This is the moment they've been waiting for since the Genophage. The galaxy needs them again, and they're going to savour the chance to call the shots."
"And they're being led by Wrex," Shepard pointed out, pointing at him with two fingers, "who's smart and knows how life works outside the DMZ, not some moronic, chest-beating tribesman like Ubek. This is dangerous territory I'm treading here, Garrus."
"Are you telling me a bunch of politicians have got you hiding in here, shaking in your shiny little boots?" Garrus asked, mockery lacing every syllable. "You've got to be kidding me, Shepard."
"In case you hadn't noticed my unique brand of charm isn't especially diplomatic," Shepard drawled in response. "I'm not equipped to navigate this storm, Garrus. Who am I to comment on the Genophage, or to tell anyone it should or shouldn't be cured?"
"You really think that's what he's going to ask for?" Garrus asked.
"There isn't a doubt in my mind. I'd bet every credit I have against it, and I'm not a betting man. You can't be, when you understand the statistics of it."
"Yeah, it seems like the obvious course of events, doesn't it? A cure for the Krogan in exchange for Palaven," he fixed Shepard with a hard stare. "I have to say, Shepard, I'm going to come out in support of you giving the Krogan everything they want."
"If I could wave my magic wand and make it so I'd wear the little green dress and call myself Tinkerbell."
"That made literally no sense to me. Not a single word of it."
"I don't get to make these decisions, all I get to do is try to convince the people who do that they should shut up and do what I tell them to. I'm out of my element here."
"The image of you in a dress is burning itself into my mind right now."
"Forget about the dress. I'm trying to bare my soul to you right now, Vakarian."
"Right, sorry, I'm finished being damaged for life at the moment."
"Wait until the image pops back up in the middle of sex sometime."
"Spirits take you, Shepard," Garrus scowled. "You're going to be fine. Getting people to shut up and do what you tell them is what you do for a living, remember? Believe me, you're very good at it. You tell me to follow you to the moon without a spacesuit and I ask when we're leaving."
"But-"
"This isn't Udina we're talking about. The Primearch is a soldier, and Wrex is a warrior. You know how to handle these kinds of people, Shepard. You got an entire ship full of people to throw in on a suicide mission, and brought them all back. You're going to do fine." He gave Shepard and exaggerated smile, spreading his mandibles wide and waving his hands excitedly. "Now cheer the hell up. You're even uglier than usual when you pout."
"You know what, you're right," Shepard sat up, nodding to himself. "I'm fucking awesome, right? I can do this."
"Right!" Garrus cheered him on and pulled him to his feet. "Now go away. I have work to do and your angst is distracting me."
"Tinkerbell," Shepard said slowly and deliberately.
"Damn it," Garrus twitched. "I'm never going to recover from that."
Shepard laughed evilly.
"Get out, damn you." Garrus opened the door for you. "I have to wash my brain out with bleach."
"Oh! Hey, Garrus, you're fringe is SO ugly that-"
Garrus shoved him through the doorway and closed it behind him. Shepard grinned, feeling much better than he had when he woke up this morning. He whistled as he strolled through the mess hall, waving at Engineer Adams who was chatting animatedly with Gabriella. She was bright eyed and intent, and Shepard smirked at her over Adam's head as he passed by. She pretended not to see him.
He made a mental note to berate her later and moved on.
It was hard to imagine how unhappy he'd been when he first walked this ship. Memories of sorrow clung to it in places, his emotions had been dormant but powerful and sometimes small things had been overwhelming for him. Then, after he had come back more completely it had been a place full of kind of desperate energy, always on the edge of breaking through to delirium. Now it was full of intention, full of purpose, full of people working toward one clear goal. The Crucible, the Reapers, and of course, always, always the most important thing of all.
I've actually had most of this chapter finished since I first started writing this story, which is why you get another update so fast!
I'll probably do most of the character interaction chapters from ME3 short like this, while longer chapters will focus on the Shepard/Kaidan romance. I considered not doing any at all, but that's just because I'm so excited to write the actual romance. I can't just neglect all these great characters I love writing so much. So expect to see lots of everything you've seen thus far, plus lots of adorkable trying-to-be-romantic Shepard.
Earth.