"'You're over-reacting.'" Garrus quoted, his voice tinted with just a smidge of satisfaction as he led them through the narrow and crammed street. Tall, rusted, metallic buildings fenced them in on either side, disappearing into the haze of steam that hovered meters above their heads. Kiosks and merchant stands were carved into the sides of the buildings, their wide array of wares a testament to the diverse population that was packed into what little space was left on the street.

"I don't want to talk about it." Shepard grumbled from just behind him, pressed close due to the thick crowd. It still felt a little strange being out together like this, with Garrus in the lead and no third squadmate around. It wasn't exactly different in a bad way, though; in fact, the morning had proven to be rather entertaining so far, aside from when he'd been sure Shepard's piloting was going to succeed where both Reapers and Collectors had failed and finally put an end to infamous human Spectre once and for all – tag along turian included.

"So the movie got a few things wrong." He continued, his sub harmonics radiating his amusement. Not for the first time, he found himself glad Shepard couldn't understand them. At least, he reflected as his mandibles flicked with doubt, he didn't think she could. He'd realized over the last few months that she'd become remarkably good at reading turian body language for a human.

"I don't want to talk about it." she repeated, and his peripherals caught the way the lines of hair over each of her eyes – what were they called again? Eyebrews? – lowered dangerously. He let his mandibles flare into a smile.

"Alright, alright." he said, scratching at his scars as they waited for a group of batarians to move out of the way. Spirits, he'd forgotten how cramped everything was in this part of Omega. I'll die a happy turian if I never set another foot in this hell-hole after this.

"I barely even knew him." Shepard almost groaned a moment later, incredulous, and he glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Thought you didn't want to talk about it?"

"How did they even come up with that? I mean, we couldn't have known each other for longer than a couple of days before reaching Eden Prime. Who falls in love in just two days?" she continued, her hands gesturing helplessly in an attempt to get her point across.

"Impressive. Never knew you were such a fast worker, Shepard." Garrus commented.

"This can't be legal. Don't I at least get some sort of say in this?"Shepard went on, seemingly unaware of Garrus' input.

"Maybe. Well, you would if the galaxy didn't think you were dead anyway." Garrus said. "I don't think deceased Spectres have all that many rights, sorry."

"I'm going to write them an email." Shepard stated. "I'll send it to that producer, what's his name? Kit something? I'll tell him the whole story, let him know how wrong he got it."

"Right." Garrus hummed, once again pausing as their path was blocked, this time by a pair of krogan. The two were arguing over something, one of which was pointing to a nearby sushi stall. Garrus took the opportunity throw another glance back at Shepard. His mandibles flicked.

"Shepard," he said, turning back around. "Not to interrupt, but we're being followed."

"Hmm?" she said, looking up at him from the message she'd been typing on her omni-tool. "The salarian? Yeah, he's been tailing us since we left Marsh's. Think he's a mugger?"

"No, too well-armed for that." Garrus answered, watching as the krogan who'd been pointing at the sushi place head-butted the other. He wasn't surprised Shepard had noticed their stalker, even as…'distracted' as she had been from that trailer. "I'm thinking merc."

"Eclipse maybe?" Shepard asked, shutting her omni-tool and stepping to the side as the krogan finally moved out of the way.

"Possibly." The salarian wasn't wearing the merc group's armor or yellow colors, though. From the few glances Garrus had gotten of him, he'd placed their follower as middle-aged – mid twenties to early thirties for a salarian – and picked out the outline of at least one gun hidden underneath his somewhat baggy brown suit.

Shepard paused to look at a stall selling the strange human hats Joker always wore, and Garrus caught the quick glance she shot at him from the corner of her eyes. "Do you think someone recognized you?" she asked quietly, her movements casual as she picked up a cap up that had I love my Captain written across it in glittery pink letters.

Garrus looked away. "Unlikely..." He said slowly, scratching at his scars. He'd done well at remaining anonymous back during his time here; few had ever connected him personally to the notorious Archangel. Even more, most of those who had were all dead now, either from Sidonis' treachery or Garrus' own hand.

His mandibles twitched as he thought of the other turian, impatience burning within him. He would find Sidonis, someday – of that Garrus had no doubt. Sidonis would pay for what he'd done. It was the time until then, the helpless waiting while that bastard went free somewhere out there, that haunted Garrus, hovering in his mind just as clearly as the name's carved into his visor did in his eyes.

"…but still possible." Shepard said, her words bringing Garrus back from his thoughts. She put the cap back down, shaking her head slightly, and gestured for him to lead the way. "I should have considered that before bringing you here with me." Her voice was softer than he was used to, the always seemingly flat human tone laced with an emotion he couldn't quite identify. Confused, he glanced over at her – easier now that the street had widened a little and they were able to walk side by side – but her face was smooth as she continued her supposedly innocent sightseeing.

Garrus hmphed. "And what, brought Miranda along instead? I can only imagine all the fun you two would be having right now."

He'd have been lying if he said the quick smirk that spread over Shepard's face at his words didn't send a small shiver of satisfaction through him. "She's really not so bad, you know. There's a decent person in there if you just look hard enough."

"Right, well, I'll leave that to you. Not sure a Cerberus agent would appreciate a turian staring at her for overly long periods of time, regardless of the reasons." Again one of the corners of Shepard's lips rose in amusement.

"Probably a good idea when you put it that way. Speaking of which," she said, as they turned onto a street that, like the one had before, opened up wider. They weren't far from their destination now, their impending arrival hinted at by the change in the buildings on either side of them; they'd grown larger and less populous as they'd traveled from merchant to warehouse district. "How do you want to handle our new friend?"

Garrus glanced over at her. "You want me to decide?"

Shepard nodded "I do. Like I said earlier, you know this place better than me. And besides," she added, lowering her voice as something flashed in her eyes – was that amusement? Was she enjoying this? "We've already established there's a good chance that this has something to do with a certain turian vigilante. I'm curious to see how the infamous Archangel handles himself on his home turf."

The Archangel in question shifted slightly, rolling his head around on his shoulders. The ghosts of his mistakes hovered in his eyes, staring as he walked by. He coughed. "Yeah, maybe you should just take this one, Shepard. Don't want to steal your thunder, as you humans say."

Shepard turned her head towards him, the lines of hair above her eyes lowering slightly as she looked at him. Her gaze felt heavy on him, and he resisted the urge to fidget underneath it. When she spoke, however, her tone was light, almost mocking even. "What's wrong, Vakarian? Afraid of showing off for your commanding officer?"

Afraid of getting her killed, he thought quietly. Just like he had all the others. Still, the challenge in Shepard's voice had been clear and Garrus Vakarian had never been one to back down. He met her eyes. "If you insist. Just try not to be too impressed, Shepard. Can't have you distracted with thoughts of trying for a repeat of your last solo liaison with a turian."

He turned away, fighting to keep his mandibles from flaring with laughter at the expression she made, and strode forward.