AN: So I'm off work this week, thus the sooner than usual update. If I haven't already made this clear in earlier notes (and I think I did, but it never hurts to re-iterate), I haven't played ME3 in years. I am probably going out of order in terms of when events happen in the game. Sometimes I go out of order on purpose (because it works better for the needs of this story - like bringing Tali on board way earlier than I should have, but I like having her around), sometimes it's an accident (like I said, it's been years). Hell, I might even leave out some things (highly unlikely I'll do the Citadel dlc at all). So bear with me while I move things around for my convenience :)
Thank you to a href=" /users/Mordinette/pseuds/Mordinette"mordinette/a for beta-reading and helping me figure out whata he hell I'm doing lol
She falls asleep in his arms. Garrus waits until he's sure she's sleeping soundly before he cradles her against his chest and moves her to the bed. He tucks them in as best he can, but it's difficult since Shepard won't quite let him go. It doesn't matter - he's fine as is and his body heat is enough for both of them.
He drifts in and out for an hour or so, but he's too keyed up to actually get any rest. There's nothing for him to do on the ship, though. He's back, but not officially. No shifts or crew reports or mission briefings await his attention. So he stays, offers Shepard the comfort of his proximity. And maybe he enjoys the comfort of hers, too.
Restlessness and a need to move have him on his feet, gently and properly tucking Shepard in before slipping out of the bed. He has no intention of leaving, though. There's been so much keeping them apart lately that, with her invitation to stay, he finds he can't pull himself away yet. So he asks EDI to send him mission reports to read through to get up to speed.
The crew's been busy while he's been gone (no surprise there), and there's a slight pang in his chest that makes him feel like he abandoned them. And maybe he did, technically, but there's no denying that the training of new anti-Reaper ground troops is important in its own right. If only he could be two places at once, he thinks wryly.
Then just my luck, the Reapers would be able to do it too and we'd be twice as fucked.
He's in the middle of reading up on a ground mission involving a startling number of banshees (though honestly, it's a brilliant tactical move on the part of the Reapers to target a shrine for Ardat-Yakshi) when he hears Shepard stir. He looks up, watches her stretch beneath the sheets and snuggle further into the space he'd vacated. She sighs slightly and settles in again, breathing deep and even.
Shepard continues sleeping well into the day cycle. It's maybe a little selfish, but he doesn't wake her. This could very well be the quiet before the storm, and he's perfectly willing to sit here and enjoy it while he can. And no doubt, if he knows Shepard as well as he thinks, this is the most sleep she's gotten in one go in a while. He watches until he's sure she's still comfortably asleep, then goes back to reading.
It takes less time than he anticipated to catch up, but there's nothing left but flight logs and even with Joker's ridiculous, passive aggressive commentary it's not worth the time. Fidgety with unspent energy, Garrus decides to tidy up the room. Shepard's not usually a slob, but the stress from their personal situation and the obvious pressure of leading the resistance against the Reapers obviously have taken their toll. There's a system to her madness (even now), and it doesn't take long to organize it.
"Mmm, a girl could get used to this."
Garrus nearly drops a datapad. He stares at Shepard, curled up in a nest of pillows and watching him. "Wh- what?"
"You cleaning up after me. Being here when I wake up. Having you around in general. Take your pick."
He bites back his impulse to point out that she was used to it until she ended things. Garrus might have a tendency to stick his foot in his mouth, but even he knows that would just be a pointless thing to say right now. "I didn't mean to wake you-"
"You didn't," she says around a jaw-cracking yawn. Without further preamble, she pushes off the covers and rolls onto the floor and into a set of push-ups. Garrus leans against the fish tank and admires the view. Turians are hard lines and un-giving plates. Humans, the females especially, are curves and soft skin fluttering over barely hidden muscle just beneath the surface. There's something about the interplay of weakness and strength that he can't help but being drawn to.
Shepard jumps to her feet and stretches. She catches his eye and shrugs at the unspoken question there. "I haven't gotten to sleep more than five solid hours in weeks, body's not used to all the inactivity." There's something defensive in the way she says it and her nonchalant way of talking about it doesn't quite cover up the underlying embarrassment.
"I remember." She's spent years trying to convince her body that it doesn't need any sleep. Garrus admits that she's been somewhat successful - he didn't even realize humans were supposed to get eight hours a night until someone told him. Still, Shepard views the extended periods of idleness with scorn. Too much to do, too little time.
With the Reapers around every corner, that's not exactly wrong.
A few more stretches, Garrus keenly watching the whole time simply because he can (and he suspects she's trying to taunt him with her flexibility at this point), and then she's done. She licks her lips, opens her mouth to say something, but her omnitool pings. Scowling, she looks at it. It only alerts her when there's a high priority message coming through.
"Ugh, it's Hackett. I've got a meeting on the Citadel. Fuck, we were supposed to ship out and now I gotta deal with this."
"Hackett scheduled a meeting for you? Isn't that a little below your pay grade at this point?"
Shepard laughs into a sigh, rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes. "Yeah I fucking wish. I don't think there's ever escaping that kind of shit."
"Want company?"
She visibly starts at the offer. "Uh, probably don't need it. It's just some scientist, should be in and out. Don't wanna waste your time." The implication is of course that it may very well be wasting hers. "See you for dinner later, though?"
"It's a date."
The laugh she rewards him with briefly reminds him why he fell for her in the first place. "Is that what it is? A date?" It's meant to be teasing, of that he's sure, but there's traces of unease there.
In this, it's probably best to just defer to her. Let her set the pace as they re-adjust. So he shrugs. "If you want it to be."
Taking a moment to consider, she finally speaks up. "Yeah, that might be nice. Hope you packed your fanciest civvies, because I'm taking you to the nicest place on the Normandy."
"You mean the clean table in the mess hall?"
"That'll be the one."
"I hear you have to make reservations months in advance for that one. Otherwise they seat you with the riffraff at the dirty tables."
"What can I say? I know a guy who knows a guy. I can make it happen." She winks at him and he finally gives in and chuckles.
For a few seconds, he'd forgotten all about... their mess. But now it's back, spilling back into the spaces left behind by their silence. He manages to suppress a sigh as he starts heading out to let her get ready. "I'll see you later, Shepard."
"Garrus?"
He pauses at the door, turns back to see what she wants. "Yes?"
"This isn't fixed." She chews her lip anxiously, as if those words might shatter the fragile peace they've made.
"I know," he says and hopes she hears the promise, We'll work on it.
It's not until the elevator doors open that he remembers... he has nothing to do. He quickly types Shepard a message, asking her to put him on the duty roster ASAP otherwise he'll go crazy, and then heads to the medbay. There's no getting around needing to see Chakwas and get a clean bill of health before he'll be considered for ground missions. And though he loathes the idea (mostly because he's afraid of the pain that lingers in his abdomen), he bites the bullet and decides to be proactive.
"Garrus." If the doctor's surprised to see him back on board, she does nothing to indicate it. "What can I do for you? Or is this just a social visit?"
"Afraid not. I was wondering if you could do a quick exam, make sure I'm fit for duty."
"Because?" There's a hint of suspicion in her voice. Shepard's the worst of the crew by far when it comes to skirting medical advice, but Garrus isn't exactly known to voluntarily get checked up either. Something Chakwas knows all too well after Omega. How many times did he "forget" appointments with her and ignore his PT?
"I may have gotten impaled . Possibly shot, definitely bruised. I assume there was some blood loss in there, too."
"There it is." There's a fond smile as she waves him over to an exam table. "Let me pull up the hospital report and we'll go from there."
She touches the tender plates around the injury, does a few scans, and wordlessly observes the results.
"Well, if you were looking for me to clear you for field duty, you're out of luck."
"It can't be that bad," he groans. He's well aware from personal experience that there'll be no persuading the doctor into changing her mind, but a little pouting never hurt.
"The wound is sealed and healing nicely. I'd hate for you to strain yourself and set back your progress. Especially when there are a dozen able-bodied members of the crew who can go instead."
"So... it's preventative...?"
She scowls at him - it very much reminds him of Shepard and he tries not to be intimidated by it - and answers slowly, as if talking to a child, "They admittedly did a good job patching you up, but it's still fairly obvious that you needed patching up. You exert yourself too much too soon, you'll likely just make it significantly worse. Which would be extremely foolish given you're only maybe two weeks from being fully recovered."
They stare at each other for a while. Chakwas blinks first. She sighs dramatically and crosses her arms over her chest. "You're just picking out the words you want to hear aren't you?"
He doesn't bother denying it. "It just sounds like you're recommending I don't do field missions-"
"Garrus, you're a big boy, I'm sure you are more than capable of making informed decisions. For Christ's sake, after Omega Shepard dragged you out on some mission days after you woke up despite my protests. Clearly you'll ignore me until you're bleeding out in your armor. And I know I may as well be talking to a wall for all the good I'm doing, but I'd be remiss if I didn't try to talk you out of doing something foolish."
"I appreciate that, and if we weren't in the middle of a war, I'd follow your advice to the letter." She raises an eyebrow at that. "Well, probably."
"Lucky for you there's that war giving you the perfect excuse to ignore it," she says dryly. "If that's all, you may leave the infirmary for those inclined to yield to my medical expertise. And I sincerely do not want to see you back in here any time soon."
Counting it as a win, Garrus thanks Chakwas and escapes before she can decide to prescribe him meds or, worse yet, exercises.
A few crew members wave to him as he makes his way to the Main Battery. It's strange, attracting so much attention. He's used to being barricaded behind closed doors with his station and the guns and little to no notoriety (aside from the strange curiosity humans tend to have for the only turian on board). Somewhere along the line things changed and he never quite caught up to people knowing and looking up to him.
He's not quite sure what to do with that.
There's still a decent amount to keep him occupied in the Battery, the usual calibrations and refining that never quite meet the high expectations he has for himself. He's hardly even gotten started when he's interrupted by the ping of the console alerting him to an incoming message. It's from Shepard - which isn't all that unexpected, only it's not about dinner and it's directed to all mission going members of the crew. There's a briefing scheduled to start in... fuck, like five minutes.
Welcome back to work, Vakarian. Why are you even surprised?
Garrus isn't the first or the last to arrive. Liara drags Javik in (and isn't that a sight), and then Kaidan slips in after that. The only ones missing are-
"Thanks for meeting me here." Shepard slips in, EDI on her heels. As relaxed as she'd seemed when they parted an hour ago, he'd hoped it would still show. No such luck. Her shoulders are tense and her stride gives away the stress she's managed to acquire in the brief time she's been awake.
Mission briefings are normally boring affairs. Presentations, an excess of talk (very little of it actually ends up being useful on the mission itself), and tactical information that generally is so straight forward it's a wonder the officers feel it needs to be said at all. At least, that'd been his experience (especially in regards to C-Sec, ugh) prior to Shepard. Shepard's been on their end of things too much, respects their time and their intelligence. Her briefings tend to be three minutes flat.
"I had a meeting with a Dr. Bryson earlier. I don't know how to dance around it so I'm just going to say it. The Alliance has info on some creature called a Leviathan, which is supposed to be some sort of Reaper killer. We have no idea if these creatures are legit, if they're alive or extinct or what. But assuming they're real, they're going to be useful."
"We have heard of no such thing," Javik says dismissively.
It's Liara who hisses back, "Yes, and Protheans are the be all and end all of knowledge."
"My people-"
"Didn't exactly win the war," James grumbles under his breath.
"-were far more advanced than any of yours. If we could not find such creatures, they do not exist."
Shepard ignores him and continues. "This is priority number one for us, people. The Crucible is pretty much done, just needs time. If we can get this on the side, it can do nothing but help. We're leaving in a bit to investigate the only lead we have. I need a ground team. EDI's already helped out at Dr. Bryson's lab, so I'd like to keep her involved. Other than that, I'm open to recommendations."
"I'll come."
They all either stare at him or pointedly don't stare at him, instead looking at Shepard's reaction.
She chews her bottom lip and looks him once over. "And what would Chakwas say to that suggestion."
"Probably nothing good."
James covers a laugh with a cough and covers it up with a serious look. Tali looks back and forth between him and Shepard, as entranced as she is in a bad romance vid. (Oh Spirits, are they a bad romance vid?) Javik quirks his head and, for all his feigned disinterest, blinks curiously at them. The rest of the crew are a bit better at hiding their thoughts.
"That's not exactly a stellar recommendation for why you should go." Her eyes are hard and he's worried he'll have to press the point. She hasn't said no outright, not yet, so there's still hope. "Anyone else volunteering?"
Most of them physically take a step back and all of them seem to find the ceiling intensely interesting.
"... No one?" It's hard to tell if she sounds irked or amused. "You assholes are toeing the line of insubordination, you know that, right?"
"We're merely deferring to your expertise, Commander." And sure, Tali's helmet obscures her features, but Garrus chooses to believe there's a shit eating grin in place right now.
"I hate you all," Shepard says with an eye roll. "Vakarian, suit up, you're coming. Vega, you too."
"Three... three squad mates?" he chokes out, looking around to see if the others had heard it too.
"Yes, Vega. You got a problem with that?"
"Uh... no, ma'am, not especially."
"Good. Cuz you're the only one big enough to carry Vakrian's ass if he's overestimating his physical capabilities. The three of you be ready to leave when we arrive." She jerks her head to the door. "I don't know why you're still here, don't you have jobs to do? Dismissed!"
AN: It's great that I jokingly mentioned Garrus avoiding PT and then the next day I found out I have to start PT... ahahahahaha ugh :(