A/N: A big thank you to bluumberry and a guest reviewer for your reviews last chapter, and to those who have favorited or followed this story!
-4-
"Finally heading out for a night on the town, Garrus?"
Traynor's chipper voice and smooth as butter accent Shepard once told him was something called a British accent (or more specifically, an accent that made just about anything sound intelligent even if it wasn't) had him spinning back around with some reluctance. Not that he didn't like Traynor, but he was already later getting out of there than he would have liked. All because that damn technician had to point out that mistake in the algorithms. Course the tech would have fixed it himself if Garrus had just kept his mouth shut…no, he was blameless. His pride at stake. No one would say Garrus Vakarian was sloppy with calibrating the Normandy's guns. That was his thing.
"Just had some last minute tune-up to finish," Garrus replied, repositioning his packed-to-the-brim bag so it rested more comfortable over his shoulder.
Traynor's face shifted, both her lips and her left eyebrow twitching furiously, her eyebrow desiring to cock itself above her eye. She had gotten over most of her shyness towards the other members of the crew, but there was still an occasional hesitancy, like she was afraid of overstepping her boundaries.
"And that had nothing to do with the tech I saw storming through here about an hour ago?"
"No idea what you're talking about. At all."
Traynor shot him a skeptical look, still fighting the amused grin threatening to burst forth on her face. "Word also has it you're planning to take the Commander out dancing," she said instead, her attention flying back to the flashing console at her workstation.
That definitely got Garrus's attention. "And did that word come from a certain wise-ass marine?" Just because he owed Vega for taking time away from his busy schedule of lifting weights and doing pushups to teach Garrus how to tango didn't mean he wouldn't kill him next time Garrus saw him.
"Actually it was EDI."
Garrus fought back a low, embarrassed groan, ending up strangled in his throat. "That's kind of the opposite of what I meant when I told Vega I didn't want word of this getting out, EDI."
"It was my understanding that you only did not wish for Shepard to find out," EDI explained as if that excused her blathering about this apparently not-so-secret plan. "And Shepard has shown no signs of expressing any knowledge of your attempts to, as Jeff said, "woo" her."
"Wait. Joker knows about this too?" He could already picture Joker playing back the footage of Vega leading him through the motions of a tango alongside the music in the shuttle bay when everyone had retired for the night, making comments about how he danced like he still had that stick up his ass. Not what he really wanted to be thinking about when actually on the dance floor with Jane.
"Yes. I was up in the cockpit when talking with Specialist Traynor. Since Joker rarely leaves the pilot's seat, it would only be natural. Though I believe he was also talking to Liara at the time."
Did everyone on the ship (except Jane) know about this? Apparently privacy as a concept didn't exist anymore on the Normandy. Actually, it would have, but EDI was hell-bent on killing it.
Traynor flashed him a more reassuring smile. "For what it's worth, Garrus, I happen to think it's very sweet and romantic. She'll be swept off her feet for sure."
Kind of what he was going for. He was well aware of Jane's…colorful reputation as a dancer. Mostly a lot of shifting between feet and up and down motions with flaying arms. For a woman with such a fine rhythm on the battlefield (and Garrus had spent many a time taking in that view, just watching her in action for one brief moment before someone shot at him again), she was entirely hopeless when it was without guns and enemies to shoot.
If this went well, it would be a first step. He had to try. It was his civic duty, a public service to the galaxy to never be treated to Shepard's cringeworthy (yet hilarious) dance moves.
"Speaking of which, there's something I've been meaning to ask you, Specialist Traynor. When you believed me to be a simple VI, you made comments about my voice."
Wait, what now?
Traynor froze, looking like she wanted to slink under her workstation and become invisible. "Oh, no."
Garrus shifted from left to right, not sure what else to do. How was he supposed to respond to that? His brain was trying to think of something clever, but it was still too busy trying to process what he had just heard. "Is the part of the conversation where I should leave the ship now?"
"No! No, I meant…weren't you going to tell me something about the Normandy's guns and that engineer?"
Garrus cocked his head. "Uh, no."
"Could you? Or about Shepard? Just…anything?" Traynor pleaded.
"I merely wish to understand why you found my voice sexually attractive."
Traynor kept on glancing around at the different doors, looking anxious an Alliance tech would come barging in and hear a lot more than they wanted to. Garrus was currently among them. Why wouldn't his feet move and get him the hell out of there?
"Oh, that was awhile ago. Can't even remember what I said exactly…" Traynor trailed off nervously, her face growing redder by the second.
"She does," Garrus replied, not being able to contain himself now that he had finally come up with something, even if it wasn't the wittiest one-liner in the world.
Traynor gave a glare at Garrus that was only half-hearted, still trying to fight the embarrassment, her hesitancy from earlier gone. "Garrus, please, you're not helping."
"On one occasion, you said that you wanted to quote, pin my voice against the wall and run your tongue along its collarbone."
Two things Garrus was learning from this increasingly awkward conversation (seriously, why hadn't he just left? Was his morbid curiosity getting the better of him?). One, only EDI could describe something meant to be extremely sensual and make it sound so clinical and boring (except for him, but that was only the one time). And two, he was seeing a side of Traynor he had never known existed and learning more information about her than he would ever want to know.
"Well, there's a context there that…you were talking about quantum entanglement and…I didn't know you were an AI." Traynor's ears perked up at the sound of boisterous laughter coming from the doors leading to the war room. "Anyway, I was just…joking, you know, stress of the retrofits and all…" The speed of her words had increased dramatically, signaling her wish to end the conversation before they had a full audience.
"Really? My diagnostic readings suggested you were genuinely aroused," EDI blurted out without any decorum.
Traynor buried her face in her hands to hide the visible blush that had spread from her cheeks to her ears, even on her darker skin." Oh good lord."
Now was definitely his cue to exit, especially when he saw that tech from earlier come from through the door. Probably best to keep as wide a berth from him as possible.
"Well, have fun with all that, Traynor. See you in a few days."
Traynor was still too mortified to let out anything more than a squeak of a goodbye.
Before Garrus headed to the Silversun Strip where Anderson's (now technically Jane's) apartment was, he needed to stop by a weapons store, Sallot's Emporium, down in the lower Wards. Easier to do it while he was already out, even if he was carrying his Viper and Mattock in his bag. Luckily his shoulder pad was still taking the brunt of the weight.
He could have carried them on his armor, but in light of the attacks on the Citadel, unconcealed weapons made people jumpy. The last thing he wanted was to get stopped by some rookie C-Sec officer who didn't know he used to work for C-Sec. He didn't have time for the resulting argument, mountains of paperwork and possible detainment time it might lead to.
Back in his C-Sec days, he had ordered new mods and models for his sniper rifle from this shop in particular. Actually, it was the unofficial place for all of C-Sec's weaponry shopping needs. He still wasn't entirely sure where the guy got his merchandise from (if it was black market goods, either he had done a good job disguising that fact or convincing C-Sec to look the other way), but it was usually excellent quality at reasonable prices. The owner also did thorough background checks on everyone who was a first-time buyer at his store, to eliminate the possibility of his weapons falling into the wrong hands.
Said owner, Sallot, an Elcor who had been living on the Citadel back to the days when his dad worked there, recognized him immediately and began pulling up the orders. A new precision scope for his assault rifle and a new upgrade for Jane's pistol, something called a cranial trauma system, just recently on the market. Supposed to increase heat-shot lethality by 70%.
He would have gotten her something for her sniper rifle, but lately, she had taken to using her sniper rifle at closer range rather than just pulling out her pistol. He wasn't one to criticize technique if it got results (especially from one sniper rifle enthusiast to another), but he had learned the hard way using sniper rifles at close range eventually bites you in the ass. This way she could get the same results from a pistol shot as she did her sniper.
"Eagerly," Sallot said as he returned with the mods. "These are some of the best on the market. Sincerely. I hope these will help you in your efforts to fight the Reapers."
"Much appreciated, Sallot," Garrus said after he finished paying, grabbing the mods and placing them in his bag.
Sallot expressed his thanks again (a sincere one, of course) before being called upon to assist another customer at the other end of the store.
Garrus made sure the mods wouldn't end up rolling underneath his guns and get crushed before turning to exit the stop, almost colliding head-on into a human male who had just entered the store. He was about to issue an apology and be on his way, but the words caught in his throat when he saw who he had bumped into.
Before he could say anything, the irritation in the man's eyes was replaced by recognition. "Hell, Vakarian, that you?"
"Ridgefield," Garrus greeted, extending his hand. "Good to see you again."
He remembered searching for Ridgefield alongside Lamont when they passed through their offices during the Cerberus coup and hadn't seen any sign of them, dead or alive. Good to see Ridgefield was still in one piece and hadn't aged too much in the two years since he'd seen him.
He had always liked Ridgefield, who joined C-Sec a year after he did, rising up the ranks just as quickly as Garrus did. They had spent many evenings after their shifts at Flux, complaining about red tape on one case or another. And watching Ridgefield lose time and time again at quasar, which had never failed to amuse.
Ridgefield firmly shook Garrus's outstretched hand. "Been awhile, Vakarian. Who'd you piss off this time?" He gestured to the side of Garrus's face with the scars.
"Just some merc gangs on Omega. Nothing I couldn't handle." A white lie if there ever was one. If Jane hadn't shown up when she had, his rotting corpse would probably be still strung up somewhere on Omega.
Ridgefield crossed his arms. "So what brings you out here? Last I heard you were still with Commander Shepard."
In more ways than one, but Ridgefield didn't need to know that. "Yeah, still am. Just taking some much needed shore leave." Garrus took note of his casual uniform. "Not on duty?"
"Was supposed to be three hours ago," he replied, sounding disgruntled now. "I was assigned to do a quick patrol around the Archives, make sure all the defenses are up to date and "according to C-Sec protocols,"" he said with air-quotes for added effect. "Half-way there when I was called back to C-Sec. Some problem with a volus I recently charged with smuggling illegal weapons tech. Spent two hours arguing with higher-ups why I ordered a search and seizure without a warrant. I felt like I was the one on fucking interrogation," he said, ending with a frustrated growl.
That sounded familiar. "So you decided to come here instead?"
"Something's wrong with my Carnifex and figured I'd get it checked," he gestured to the pistol at his hip. "Probably needs a new barrel. Not like I've really needed it much." The dissatisfaction on his face deepened. "Biggest war galaxy's ever seen and here I am either behind a desk or doing patrols on the Presidium."
Surprising coming from Ridgefield. He had always pushed for postings in the Wards. He had felt more useful tracking criminals in the Citadel's underbelly, reminded him of the slums he had grown up on on Earth. Not to mention he was one of the best hackers and techs this side of the galaxy, spending a lot of free time tinkering, especially with manipulating comm signals. Shame he hadn't come with Garrus when he went to Omega. Course if he had, he probably would have been dead by now.
"The Archives post is the first one in the Wards in awhile," he continued. "Claire's been getting more uneasy about me being on patrol. Requesting to be reassigned was the only way she'll let me keep doing my work."
From what he remembered of Ritchfield's then fiancée, she had always been a bit jumpy, but Garrus could understand his wife's reasons, desire to keep her husband safe. The thought had crossed Garrus's mind numerous times to lock Jane in her cabin close call after close call, but they were both soldiers. They would do what needed to be done, despite the risks, despite him feeling like he had aged twenty years after a mission.
Ridgefield suddenly pressed his two fingers against his ear, his scowl growing with each passing second. "Understood, sir." He looked back up at Garrus, running a hand through his thinning blond hair, furiously passing over the growing bald spot in the center. "Now the Executor wants to get involved with this. Christ, I caught the guy red-handed with the schematics. What more do they want?"
How many times had Garrus asked that question? One of the many reasons he had left C-Sec. Fortunately, Jane had shown him how to help people using the direct approach.
"Better get this gun checked out before Marcellenus sends someone to drag me back to C-Sec. See if they can keep me there for three hours this time. But it was good to see you again, Vakarian." Ridgefield offered his hand again, which Garrus willingly took.
"You too, Ridgefield," Garrus replied. An idea suddenly struck him. "I'll be on the Citadel for a few days. When you get off your shift or they don't bury you in paperwork, we should meet up at Flux or Purgatory, have a drink, catch up for old times sake."
Just as Garrus predicted, Ridgefield showed no signs of reluctance at the idea. "Will need it after this latest shitstorm. Always did like the way you think, Vakarian."
From Sallot's, it was only a ten minute sky-car ride to the Silversun Strip and the apartment that was their home away from home for the next couple of days.
Jane hadn't been kidding when she said the apartment was huge. Though he had hoped to catch her before she left to meet up with Joker, it was not surprising she was already gone. Probably wanted to spend time wandering around, checking out this part of the wards (not that he was all that familiar with it himself, having only been to the sushi place and the casino a few times), rather than just sitting around waiting for the time to pass. She never took inactivity well.
He searched the bedrooms until he found where Jane had set her things down, in an alcove with a weapons bench and armor holder. Definitely convenient.
He wasted no time in unzipping his bag and pulling his Mattock to install the new scope. Even though they wouldn't need their guns for the next few days, best to get this out of the way. Then he could focus on getting all spruced up for his night out with Jane.
He hadn't even been that serious, when he made some comment about impressing Jane (or rather, making her swoon) to Vega while in the lounge a few weeks ago. Then before he knew it, Vega was suggesting he take her tango dancing, assuring Garrus all the girls fell for it. If he learned these moves, he remembered Vega saying as he dealt a new card to Garrus, he'd have her eating out of the palm of his hand.
As he unclipped his old scope and prepared to secure his new one on, he went over the plan again in his head. He'd tell Jane to meet him over at the casino, on the upper floor where the dance floor and the bar were. Then he'd ping Vega to let him know they were coming. Garrus would distract her while Vega arrived and set up the music. Once Garrus heard it start, that would be his cue. And if he was lucky, Jane would go along with it and follow his lead. Hell, he had practiced the moves enough times. So long as he was guiding her through it, it shouldn't be a disaster.
Holding his rifle up to the light to inspect his work, he set it aside with satisfaction and grabbed Jane's pistol. Usually he would always ask before handling someone else's equipment (just common courtesy, afterall), but he wanted to surprise her, do this small thing for her. Spirits knew she deserved it after everything she had done. Not just for him, but for the rest of their friends, for the whole galaxy.
He set to securing the pistol down onto the workbench, positioning it so he could install the mod more easily. Truly hard to believe it would soon be over, one way or another. Only a few days of shore leave separated them from the beginning of the takeback for Earth, heading to Cerberus headquarters to confront the Illusive Man. That had definitely been a long time coming.
He had been trying hard not to think about it, what the ending of this might mean. If he thought about it, he knew what it might lead to, thinking that he or even worse Jane…
He stopped that line of thought with a jerk of his head, forcing him to pause in his work on the pistol. He had to get a grip. They had faced Sovereign and that Reaper-human larva, had brought everyone back from the Collector base. Scraped, bruised, things broken in some places, but alive. Both those times.
But he knew this time was different. This was Sovereign times a thousand. The Reapers would throw everything they had at them to stop them from launching the Crucible. And Harbinger…he would show up again. He had shown too much of an interest in Jane not to. Just the thought of her, facing Harbinger (maybe even alone if he couldn't be by her side), her body blasted apart by its red-hot laser…
"Stop, Vakarian, it won't happen…" he scowled himself, pushing away those unpleasant thoughts and the resulting emotions that left him with an unsettled feeling throughout his body. He usually expected the worst, but he couldn't, wouldn't, this time.
Go back to focusing on installing the mod on Jane's pistol then change for their night out, he encouraged himself. That's all he needed to worry about for now.
It didn't take him much longer to finish working on the pistol. Like his rifle, he set it aside to give the mod time to properly sync with the rest of the pistol.
He stepped out of the alcove and decided to take a quick tour of the apartment. Liked the hot tub (a surprising feature), could definitely see them making use of that. The only time turians could handle being in water without fear of flailing around and drowning. Also a fan of the long bar tables and poker table downstairs. The place even had a nice fireplace, water feature and plants hidden behind a really, really nice glass wall fixture.
He spotted the stereo controls by the fireplace and decided some synthetic beats throughout the apartment would be a good start to their unwinding time. Once he settled on a song, he made his way back up the stairs to the main bedroom, rooting around in his bag for his dress clothes. After years of changing out of his armor, it didn't take long for him to strip everything off. Since he had the time, probably worth it to freshen up with a shower, take advantage of the space while he had the opportunity. The ones on the crew deck were not meant for large bodies (mainly turian bodies). Even the one in Jane's quarters wasn't as spacious or nice as the one here. Though why there was only one shower in this entire apartment for one bedroom he couldn't understand.
A fifteen minute shower and toweling down later, he went back to putting on his clothes. He had just finished buttoning up his tunic when he heard a ping coming from his omni-tool He hadn't even been watching the time, but he was pretty sure Jane and Joker should have just met up a little while ago. Could they possibly be finished that soon? Not likely with how crowded that sushi place got. Or was someone else trying to contact him?
He accepted the incoming vid-link, surprised to see Joker's image staring back at him.
"Missed talking to me already, Joker? Thought you'd still be at dinner. Quality went downhill that much?" Garrus asked, joking to hide the growing dread he was starting to feel. Nothing was wrong, he tried to pacify the emotional side of him. He was just overly paranoid. There was a reason Joker was calling that wasn't because something had happened to Jane.
"The drinks were good. Pretty much the only things we had before the mercs showed up."
There went that attempt at deluding himself, along with his plans for the evening. Couldn't Jane go five minutes before someone started shooting at her?
"You know, Joker, that should have been how you started the conversation," Garrus said, trying to keep his voice level. He wasn't going to lose his cool, even if his heart had started pounding heavily in his chest. Joker wasn't acting hysterical. A good sign, at least. Meaning things hadn't completely gone to hell.
"Was trying to break it to you gently, in case you didn't take it well." Joker suddenly winced. "Oww! Damn pancreas."
"That's still up for debate." Especially at the rate his heart was going. "So what exactly happened?"
"Short version: Some Alliance staff analyst named Brooks came up to us and told us someone's been hacking Shepard's accounts and comm channels. Then these mercs showed up looking for her. And can I just highlight the fact she used me as bait to spear some guy with an omni-blade? Not particularly thrilled about that."
"Joker..."
"Right. Sorry. Anyway, one of the mercs grabbed Brooks and Shepard went after her. That's pretty much it. Oh, and the glass of the fish tank exploded when some mercs fired at it and Shepard fell through the tank. Other than that...she's fine, by the way. EDI's been able to track her," he immediately amended when he saw Garrus's face. He had to have seen the fleeting panic cross his eyes before Garrus reined it back in.
It was still a moment before Garrus found his voice. "Anyone ever tell you you're terrible at delivering bad news, Joker? Or at story-telling?"
Joker shrugged, brushing the criticism off. "Still better me calling and saying we're in some serious shit and Shepard is alone and being hunted by random mercs."
"Actually, when you put it that way…"
"Told you."
Garrus quickly moved to the alcove where his weapons still were. "Have you been able to get ahold of her?"
"No, not on our usual channel. Wouldn't help her anyways, being bugged and all. Figured I'd better try contacting you and the rest of the crew. I can send you the coordinates for Shepard's last location EDI sent to me."
Garrus retrieved his Viper out of his bag. "Thanks, Joker."
"And Garrus." He turned back to Joker, who was studying him with an attentive eye, a seriousness set on his face Garrus rarely saw. "Shepard'll be fine," Joker replied, as if Garrus needed reassurance. He did, but he wouldn't admit it outloud.
"Course she will." He placed the Viper down on the table with more force than was necessary. "She'll have me to back her up."
He signed off with Joker, getting out of his civvies much quicker than getting them on. If he had given into his initial rise of panic, he would have bolted out of there without any armor, any weapons, intent on tearing the mercs apart just with his talons, but he wasn't that animalistic. Yet.
Hopefully his new scope had had enough time to calibrate (he really did use that word a lot) properly with his rifle, but he'd have to make do. He had to get to Jane before the mercs were able to corner her. The only thing that made him feel better was her tactical cloak. So long as her omni-tool was still working, she could get herself out of such a situation and he could breathe a lot easier.
He had once told Jane that nobody had better hurt her. He knew she could kick a merc's ass from one corner of the galaxy to the next, but if someone had so much as put a scratch on her, he thought as he fastened his weapons onto his back, they would find out what an ass-kicking from a turian and former vigilante known as Archangel felt like, just for good measure.
She ducked behind a corner, waiting for her tactical cloak to re-charge and grasping a Suppressor she had retrieved from one of her mercs. Brooks had encouraged her to spare as many of their mercs live as possible, so they wouldn't have to replenish all their numbers.
She wouldn't guarantee anything. The second her mercs started firing at her, they would die (just like the two at the sushi place), even if they didn't know they weren't firing at the real Shepard. Only a handful of mercs knew the real plan, but even they weren't told until the very last minute. She had left absolutely nothing to chance, ensuring their silence through threats of death and promises of more credits. Even if some of them grew a conscience, those who knew were all in the Archives and external communications had been cut off.
She winced when she kneeled down, clutching at her sore rib cage. She had known it would happen, positioned herself exactly that her merc would fire at the glass and cause her to fall through the tank, but it still didn't make it any easier on her body, only awake for half a year.
Her discomfort aside, everything was going according to plan. She had arrived at the sushi place with the pilot being none the wiser. Brooks had played her part of the nervous, socially awkward Alliance official well and she had pretended to be patient and cordial to Brooks, even playfully suggesting to the pilot she'd get him umbrellas with his drinks.
The pilot who went by Joker was clearly devoted to the Normandy, almost to the point of fixation. Once the truth was known, he would never agree to hand the ship over. He would have to be disposed of as well. A pity. He had the most experience handling the ship and its AI, but good pilots were not a rarity and it would not take much to assume control over the AI's systems.
And she could certainly do without a pilot who constantly made poor attempts at humor, who thought himself clever and was anything but. Sarcasm among her crew would not be tolerated. They would follow her orders without question, without dissension, without derision.
She had let him go to contact the rest of Shepard's crew, but not before using him to keep his attention away from her. She cursed herself in that moment, when the pilot looked at her incredulously, protesting at being used as bait. Would Shepard have done that or was she more of a paragon than she had thought?
Next time she saw him, she'd write it off, think of a way Shepard would try to justify it.
She'd prove Shepard wrong. She'd fool them all until the final moment, when they saw the guns of her mercs pointed at their heads and realized their times were at an end.
She checked on her tactical cloak's status, noting with satisfaction at the cloak being fully charged. She prepared to move out, when static crackled through her earpiece and a distinctly turian voice called out for Jane, failing to hide the concern in his voice as he asked if she was alright.
The real deception was about to begin.