AN: So this chapter I kinda put off writing for a bit because of how hard I knew it'd be to get Garrus and Shepard to actually *talk* and *listen* to each other. I feel like a couples counselor or something. It was hard figuring out what needed to be said and how to make it a reasonable sounding conversation that doesn't just deteriorate into fighting. I had to actually write a list of the things both Garrus and Shepard *must* put on the table for their own piece of mind, and then tried to arrange them in a natural sounding order. We'll see if that worked out?

Also, I don't remember if Shepard has a coffee table or anything in her quarters by the bed, but dammit this one does!

And as always, huge thanks to mordinette for beta reading and helping me talk through some concerns about how Shep would react to the whole Protheans made the marks thing. And for helping me make sure Shepard doesn't seem like a total dick in this chapter.

It grates on him a bit, but he obediently follows Shepard's directives about meeting. He waits for morning - barely gets any sleep, but somehow manages a few hours - and checks with EDI. The only way he skirts around her request is by showing up before her. Part of him is worried she'll lock him out if he lets her get there first. It's possibly an ungrounded fear, but it makes him feel better to find her quarters empty.

He's equally dreading and anticipating this talk. The last few times have been painful. For both of them. But the air needs to be cleared, things need to finally be given a chance to fall back into place. Or out of place. Both possibilities are frightening in their own way, but he eagerly awaits the relief of knowing where they stand with each other.

Garrus lounges on the couch, his usual spot devoid of clutter (unlike the rest, reports piled high amid discarded clothing). He forces his mind blank because otherwise he'll get himself keyed up and ready to lash out. And maybe it's foolish to hope, but he does, hopes desperately that this won't dissolve into an argument before it's begun.

Try as he might, he only half succeeds. He doesn't fall into a pit of anger or self-loathing. No, he sidesteps that altogether and settles on replaying Javik's words over and over ad nauseam. Things like "mates" and "indoctrination" and "partnership" war for attention. Neutrally, he looks at them each in turn.

Honestly, it feels like he's mounting a defense against the attacks Shepard might make. How she'll tear down each possible connection between them, hate them all because she was forced into it.

Like he would've chosen this.

He's so lost in his own head that he doesn't notice the door open.

"Glad to see you let yourself in."

Garrus just about jumps out of his plates but she doesn't seem to notice. Or at least she has the good graces to not comment on it.

"I brought booze." She holds up two bottles, one he distinctly remembers as the expensive dextro stuff Tali splurged on a few months ago when she joined the crew. She's sworn off alcohol since then, but Garrus hasn't had the heart to drink it without her. Shepard crosses the cabin, grabbing two glasses from her desk on the way down the stairs, and sits on the edge of the couch. It's a familiar setting, how they'd often go over missions or just talk the night away. The reminder is a little unsettling.

He snaps out of his daze when she starts pouring out a drink for each of them. There's no way to read this without getting agitated. Either she's not taking this seriously, which would be problematic enough, or she's actively trying to have it crash and burn. Shepard slides his glass over to him and he takes it mechanically. He's glad she can't read turians well enough to understand the annoyance and distress his twitching mandibles exude, that'd be disastrous-

"Oh c'mon," she rolls her eyes but sounds apologetic. "I'm not that much of an asshole, recent evidence notwithstanding. This isn't about us, I just had a shit day. Had a call from Anderson, he looks god awful and it really fucks with a person to see their mentor like that. I need something stronger than tea right now and figured you'd be up for joining me." There's a hopeful way she ends the sentence, making it more question and offer than statement of fact.

Okay, so maybe she can read turians pretty well. When the hell did that happen?

(A little part of him whispers that she learned it from him. That years of time together made her as adept at reading turians, at reading him, as he is at reading humans. But it seems presumptuous, like he's giving himself too much credit or her not enough.)

"Yeah, that's- that's fine." He reaches for the drink and takes a sip. It's actually not half bad, so he immediately goes back for another swig and feels the carbonation bubble pleasantly along his tongue. "Sorry I, uh... assumed."

She shrugs. "Don't worry about it."

They drink quietly for a moment, letting the alcohol do its work to loosen the knots twisting in their guts. The tension in the air doesn't entirely dissipate, but it becomes more muted.

"That hits the spot," Shepard says after she finishes off her first glass and puts it down on the edge of the table. She stretches out and he hears a few joints pop. The brief stretch can't possibly do much to loosen her muscles. He's no stranger to how tight they get, how Shepard carries the burden of command as if a physical weight.

(Unbidden come images of how he used to help her relieve stress. He avoids looking her in the eyes, afraid she'll be able to see how his thoughts wandered.)

He needs a distraction, needs to get this over with. "So..."

"So," she agrees. The word sits between them as Shepard pours herself another glass. "I, uh." She coughs and tries again. "I've been thinking about how to do this in as fair a way as possible... I mean, uh, we each have our side. Things we wanna get off our chests. I figure we could maybe take turns saying things. Or asking questions or... whatever."

His subvocals trill in the turian equivalent of a snort. (He wonders briefly if the frequency is within the human range of hearing, if she really can read him in all the subtle ways he's taken for granted all this time.) "Since when have you become so diplomatic?"

"Fuck you, Vakarian." There's no bite behind her tone or the mock scowl she throws his way. "I'm more than just a pretty face that knows how to shoot."

"I know." Believe me, I know.

She blushes at that, one of the few times he's ever managed to goad her into the very human show of embarrassment. It's a shallow victory, really, after everything, but he'll take it. Momentarily pleased with himself, he moves on.

"You go first."

"Me?" She nearly chokes on her drink. "Why me?"

"It was your idea. Show me how you want to do this." It's not exactly a lie, but it's only a half-truth. She's obviously been thinking about this, knows what she wants to talk about. Garrus, on the other hand, doesn't have a fucking clue. Yeah, there are things he wants her to know, but how to actually articulate those things still eludes him.

She takes a deep breath, like she's about to take a plunge into frigid water, forces it out so harshly that it makes a noise as it escapes, and then dives right in. "Let's start easy. What did you think about the whole soulmate business? You know... before we met."

"Oh." He wasn't expecting that. Garrus thinks back to his youth, tries to remember what the hell he did think about them. "They were just... there. A fact of life. As much a part of you as your tribal markings."

That doesn't seem to be what Shepard wanted to hear. A frown forms, deep creases running along her forehead, and her eyes turn hard. "So you were just going to accept it, whoever it was?"

"I- I don't know? Maybe?" He puts his arms out in a placating gesture. "I don't know what you want me to say, Shepard. The truth is I never much thought about it either way. It was always something for later. I didn't really ever spend time imagining who it would be, never looked for my matching mark on people. I guess I just figured if it's fate like everyone says, it would happen when it was supposed to."

If she's at all mollified by any of what he's said, she doesn't show it. Instead she crosses her arms and glares at something in vicinity of his feet. "Your turn."

He hasn't planned a damn thing and he just wants to move on so Shepard will stop stewing in her bad mood, so he blurts out the first question that comes to mind. "Were you ever planning on giving your soulmate a chance?"

Shepard winces but hides it behind another sip of wine. "I guess I never really thought I'd meet him," she admits. "Like you said, that was a problem for later." She runs a finger along the rim of her glass, watches the light reflect off of it with undue intensity. "Maybe I assumed he'd be human. That I'd see his mark and be able to avoid him and the whole mess to begin with."

"So that's a no, then."

"Yeah," she sighs in defeat. "I guess that's a no."

"Why'd you even flirt with me in the first place? Because I'm turian and therefore safe?"

"It's my turn," she snaps.

"Fine."

"Doesn't it ever bother you? The marks, the idea of soulmates? It's just romantic nonsense. Or worse yet, weird Prothean breeding protocol or something. Which yeah, turian and human, I get that's not really... That's beside the point, though. Doesn't it feel like taking away your choice? That you're stuck with someone and just have to take some fucking Mass Relay's word for it?"

"No."

Shepard is genuinely flustered by his flat denial. Looks like she's about to call him on his bullshit, but the problem is that it's not bullshit.

"I can see why it would. That if you put two people in a room and say they're going to end up together, like it or not, that can get under your skin. Like some weird type of brainwashing or something. But that's only if you look at it like the marks cause the bond, instead of just picking up on one that'll form anyway. Like they're removed from our concept of time, they know who our match will be, the person we'd choose if the marks didn't exist at all."

Silence.

Slowly, Shepard shakes her head. "I don't know if I can look at it that way. It's always felt like someone telling me who I'm supposed to be. My whole life, I've felt it so viscerally that- That it's hard to reprogram how I see it." She offers a half smile that looks so forced it hurts him to see it. "You know I don't like being told what to do."

So basically, it's a deal breaker them being soulmates. The one thing that might've given him the edge, the one trump card, with damn near anyone else is the one thing that'll always stand in his way.

He takes three calming breaths and reminds himself not to get angry.

Not yet anyway.

"My turn. Why'd you even flirt with me in the first place?" If she's not careful, that scowl will be permanently embedded in the lines of her face. He doesn't back down, though, pointedly waits for her to answer.

"Ugh. It was a fucking no brainer, alright? You're... you're you, Garrus. You're sweet and smart and goddamn watching you snipe does things to me and you actually listen to me. Me, Jane, not Commander Shepard the war hero. And while we're on the topic, hot damn your voice, I could listen to that all day. Is that what you want to hear, Vakarian? That I actually liked you-"

"You don't like me anymore?" It's like a punch to the gut but he waits for an answer.

"I didn't fucking say that-"

"It was kind of implied."

She avoids answering, skirts around the accusation as she continues. "I do one night stands and short flings. That's me, that's Jane Shepard. I've never been in a relationship for more than a friggin month. I have fun and then get the fuck out because even if I don't give a shit about the soulmate stuff, they do. Or they will. And I know how turians are, you guys fuck around for fun. I-" For a moment she's at a loss for words. "We're a good team. We meshed so fucking well in the field, I figured it would probably translate to the bedroom. After we got around the whole different species thing, anyway. And I liked you. So I went for it."

He speaks quietly so he won't spook her, because he feels they're dangerously close to that. "We've been..." Been what? Dating? In a relationship? "We've been together for more than a month, Shepard."

The question is there, hidden beneath. Why'd you break your rule for me?

There's anguish in her expression. "I know. I... I didn't plan for it to be like this. I thought we were going to die. And then we didn't, but I was going to be arrested. But then I spent that whole six months missing you. And yeah, I missed Liara and Tali and all of them, but it wasn't like I missed you. So maybe I let it go on longer than I should have, and that's my fault-"

"Do not apologize like being together was a mistake."

"I-" She stops herself and closes her eyes. Swallows and nods. Re-centers herself and looks at him as she says, "I'm not saying it was. It was great. Too good to be true, really. Except for the war going on. I just... I'm not equipped to handle a soulmate, Garrus. That was never something I planned on putting myself through..." She digs the palms of her hands into her eyes. "Whose turn is it?"

"Yours, I think."

"Okay." Her hands fall to her sides and her eyes dart around the room. "When you left, I sent that message-"

"I didn't listen to it," he interrupts. "I uh- I deleted it."

She runs her hands through her hair before laughing slightly. "Thank god for small miracles."

He waits patiently but she doesn't clarify. "I feel like it's cheating if you make me use my turn to ask you to elaborate."

There's a huff of annoyance but she agrees. "Yeah, yeah I guess you've got a point." It takes her a couple beats to organize her thoughts, but when she starts it's in a rush, words running together as she says them as quickly as she can get them out. "Look... I was upset. I've been upset about the whole you and me situation for a while, long before you even told me. And that's on me. Trust me, I get that. I've been told often enough by Liara that it's kinda sunken in by now.

"You left and... that made it a hundred times worse. You chose to leave, not without reason, and no two ways about it, that reason was me. So... I kinda took out my frustration on that recording. I felt like shit once I calmed down enough to be even remotely objective about it. I dreaded hearing back from you, because there's no way you wouldn't be pissed. And fuck, if you hadn't been I probably would've lost a little respect for you because I was awful.

"But... you didn't reply and I waited and waited and nothing. And I felt like that was my answer. Fuck off, it's over. No need to bring words or shouting into it. It was just you washing your hands clean of me. So, yeah. It's kind of a relief to have you back on the Normandy and talking to me and thank fuck you never listened to that damn message."

She coughs as he sits in stunned silence. "Your turn," she prompts

Her words snap him out of it, make him blink and look away. The back of his mind whispers about her insecurities, that it all comes down to a childhood fear that her parents would leave each other. He knows the answer, at least he thinks he does, but he can't calm those fears until she admits to them.

"You liked me before you knew. Why does knowing change that?"

"I don't even fucking know anymore." There's only a trace of bitterness behind it. "It's not… It doesn't change how I feel about you, okay? I… I could probably never get over you, if we're being honest here and that's kinda the point. But it doesn't change how fucking terrified I feel when I think about you – or anyone – being my soulmate. The kind of terrified that almost has me hyperventilating into a paper bag or something."

"I..." His mouth goes dry and he doesn't even know what he was going to say anyway. "I don't want things to be over," he says carefully. "But I really don't know where to go from here."

"There's..." It's not like Shepard to be so hesitant, and he knows this is the crux of the matter. He tries not to hold his breath as he waits. "My parents stayed together even though it was hard on them. But they had a bond built up over years of marriage and what they had worked for them... They got to make that choice. But... But what if I made a choice, and the other person made another one? What if I chose to be with them, but they were someone else's soulmate? Or what if I met them, but they already had someone? What if they didn't choose me back?

"And I shielded myself in that for a long time. I never considered... Well, I guess I didn't have faith that anyone would pick me. And I may have panicked when I found out it was you. Because that's where it always has to end, right? When someone finds their soulmate... And I guess it didn't really ever click that it was me? I honestly don't know. I just... I was always afraid of losing you to your soulmate. You're turian and your soulmate was going to be turian, there's no way it'd be me.

"And I guess I wasn't exactly wrong, was I? The only thing that's tearing us apart is your soulmate, and ain't it fucked up that it's me doing it to myself? You left and it was my fault and I... It was over, in my mind. And it sucked, but I'd always expected that. Honestly, it made perfect sense. You choosing to leave me. It was easy to accept and I was just so angry because I'd been fucking right all along."

"I wasn't-" He wants to bite his tongue or something, anything to distract from how much it hurts him to hear how his leaving devastated her. "You said you wanted space. I needed space. I wasn't leaving you, Shepard. I would never-"

"I know, I know." She doesn't look at him, hasn't this whole time. He can see the tears forming in the corner of her eyes, held back he assumes only by Shepard's stubbornness. "Not on purpose, not forever, not if you could help it. But you almost died, you fucking asshole. Don't try to convince me otherwise. I know what I felt and I know what the med evac said and I know what the doctors said. You were fucking lucky to get off that rock. You- you left and you really weren't going to come back this time- And it was like… like I'd killed you, because I made you leave and-"

He's on his feet and closing the distance between them before he can stop himself. Shepard hasn't broken down, stubbornly clings to control because she's damn good at it, but he can help. His arms are around her as he pulls in her in close, closer than they've been in what seems like forever. She burrows into the space by his cowl and breathes him in. Hair tickles his mandibles and it's heart achingly familiar.

"I'm not going anywhere unless you make me. I'm too stubborn to die, you know that."

The ghost of the words I love you hangs in the air.

It's a long time before Shepard says anything. "I'm tired." He moves to let her go but her grip around him tightens. "Stay with me?"

"Of course."