A/N - My sincere apologies for the delay in updates! Real life had to take priority for a little while, but I am happy to say that there will be more regular updates from here on in. As an apology to those who have been waiting so long for the next chapter, I'd like to offer an amazing piece of fanart: lord-of-the-guns (dot) deviantart (dot) com/gallery/#/d3l4qh6
This was drawn by a very dear friend, in honour of my absolutely apalling obsession with Garrus and Shepard. :) Hope you like it as much as I do!
Again, much love to all who have reviewed and faved this story - your support keeps me motivated!
The clean, sleek interior of the Normandy's training room was filled with the creaks and groans of human-designed exercise equipment being pushed past its endurance limit. Seven feet of lean, irritated turian was currently stretched out across the length of a human weight machine which had been rigged to accommodate his alien form.
Humans ships weren't intended for turians. The lighting was always too low, the temperature always too cold. The chairs and beds were meant for human bodies and inevitably left Garrus awkwardly seeking places to put his legs so the spurs didn't catch on anything. Their exercise equipment, designed for much smaller, softer bodies, had required some adjustment to make it worth his while even using it. Shepard had readily agreed to let him modify the machines as necessary; they didn't look pretty but they got the job done.
He only came here when he was particularly restless, and needed to work off aggression, or insomnia. Insomnia was unfortunately common for him these days; after Omega, he found it hard to sleep without picturing Sidonis' face. Typically, though, Garrus preferred to follow a fitness regime of live-fire combat and Shepard had certainly been providing enough opportunities for that.
But there were no missions today. Instead, muttering and grumbling under his breath about Shepard's wilful recklessness, Garrus had stormed into the training room, irritably added another set of weights to his favourite machine, and settled in for a series of muscle-straining reps. 'Bang Bang Boom' pounded enthusiastically from the audio link in his visor, as Garrus pushed his body carefully in slow, controlled movements. The methodical nature of weight machines forced him to control his irritation with Shepard's stubbornness, as he focussed his awareness in on the pull and push of muscle and tendon.
As he did so, he was painfully aware that this very moment, Shepard was walking solo into the port cargo area with the reckless intention of letting their superkrogan baby out of his tank. Sure, Garrus agreed with that decision. Hell, he'd encouraged her to move it along. But he damned well hadn't expected her to go in without any kind of backup. He'd straight up assumed he'd be in there, watching her back when she did it.
But no. Commander Shepard wanted to do this herself.
"...I'll bet this is because I bitched about her driving..."
The music pounding directly into his aural cavity from the visor shifted into a pulsating upbeat number from the Fleet and Flotilla soundtrack; his preferred combat playlist. Garrus grimaced and pushed harder against the added resistance of the weight machine. His taloned feet rested against the bare steel framework rigged to accommodate his greater reach.
She'd even gone so far as to expressly forbid him from loitering about outside the door to the cargo area, and had made a strong suggestion that he avoid the entire deck for the next hour or so. The turian's mandibles flared in annoyance at the memory.
"...if she has to shoot him, this one is not going on her kill count..."
Shepard was tough and stubborn, and she could take care of herself. He knew that. But Garrus couldn't help the fact that the idea of her deliberately getting within charging range of an unknown krogan was making his talons itch.
So here he was, trying to work off the nervous energy and reminding himself with every rep of yet another instance where Shepard had managed to unexpectedly kick ass and emerge not only intact, but victorious.
That didn't seem to stop him from cursing her under his breath though.
He'd been there long enough for his heart to be pounding energetically in his chest, when the sound of the door opening and heavy footfalls entering the room intruded on his awareness.
"Hey Vakarian," came Jacob Taylor's familiar, deep voice in greeting.
"Jacob," Garrus drawled back. He waited a moment to see if the other man had anything else to say, such as an update on Shepard's meeting with the krogan, but Jacob just moved to another weight machine at the other end of the room. The turian hummed softly in recognition that the man's relaxed mood was probably a good sign.
Garrus had nothing against Jacob; the Cerberus agent had been instrumental in getting them all out of Omega alive. But he had found that his interactions with the human male remained a little awkward. He wasn't entirely sure who's fault that was. Jacob was a good man to have in a fire fight; he stayed calm under pressure, and his biotics were an impressive addition to a fight.
All the same, he got the feeling the human didn't like him overly much.
As he got back into the groove with his improvised weight machine, trying to steer his thoughts away from what kind of a mess Shepard could be finding herself in right now, Garrus wondered about the potential benefits of the krogan joining their squad. The plan had been to get Okeer, a celebrated battlemaster with decades of skill in strategy and warfare, to assist them in taking on the Collectors. Now they had an unborn genetic experiment with no experience other than whatever had been implanted in him in the tank. Even if all of Okeer's knowledge of tactics and strategy had made it through to this superkrogan, even if he agreed to join them and didn't force Shepard to kill him just because he couldn't be controlled... Would a tank-born krogan with no practical knowledge of the world really be an asset to them?
It wasn't as though he were Wrex, after all. Wrex had been an accomplished warrior in his own rights. As much as it pained Garrus' turian heritage, as much as he knew his father would disown him for the mere thought... Garrus had found Wrex to be a solid squad mate. He was cunning, he was strong, he knew when to cut his losses and when to go in for the kill. The only beef Garrus had with his old krogan buddy was Wrex's tendency to cross his line of fire and queer a sweet sniper shot.
Unconsciously, Garrus sped up, pushing harder against the resistance of the weights as he remembered some of those old fights.
Wrex had probably been his preferred companion on the old Normandy. After Shepard, of course. The humans were too... human. Tali was too young and sheltered. Liara was too skittish. Despite the history of krogans and turians, the only time the two of them had nearly come to blows was when Wrex's habit of queering the shot stopped him taking out a merc who then managed to wound Shepard. But Wrex had been a good guy. There was no way this baby krogan could match him, let alone Okeer.
Should he have tried to talk Shepard out of opening the tank? Was it worth the Commander risking herself? She might not want to admit it, but the cold, hard reality of the situation was that without her, they had nothing. The human crew were slowly warming to him (thanks primarily to his own suave and charming personality, he was sure), but Garrus wouldn't be able to hold them together if she were taken out. No matter what she thought of his abilities. No way.
"Vakarian."
The voice splintered his focus and Garrus stopped awkwardly. He half sat up and turned around to find Jacob watching him. "... Jacob?" the turian replied slowly, lifting a talon to pause the music on his visor.
The other man had evidently finished with his first machine and stopped to take a break. He had a clean white towel slung around his neck and a bottle of water in one hand as he approached the turian cautiously. "You're going pretty hard there. Might wanna take a break before you pass out, or burst a blood vessel or... whatever you guys do."
Garrus blinked in bemusement. He hadn't been operating at even half the level customary for him in his sessions to stave off insomnia. Hesitating only a moment, he nodded and uncurled into a more relaxed sitting posture, shifting one leg so that he was straddling the bench. "Hard to get any results with this equipment," was all he said, as he reached for a bottle of water sitting by his feet. It was important to stay hydrated, after all.
Jacob stepped around the edge of his improvised equipment and eyed it approvingly. "Yeah, I get that. Not sure I'd get anything out of turian equipment either. Assuming I could reach the handlebars," he added with a faint grin.
A startled chuckle escaped before Garrus could control his reaction. To his further surprise, the Cerberus man leaned back against a nearby wall, crossing his feet at the ankles and his arms over his chest. The body language was supposed to be defensive in humans, from what Garrus understood, but instead Jacob made it look intimidating. Narrowing his eyes, Garrus realized the stance reminded him of his own, back in his C-Sec days, when he was about to start an interrogation.
"What can I do for you Jacob?" he inquired smoothly, forestalling the inevitable verbal dance before the man got to his point. It also gave him the satisfaction of seeing Jacob startle, and straighten, dropping his arms to his side.
"You and the Commander..." Jacob began carefully. "You two have known each other a while."
Garrus nodded. "Since before I left C-Sec."
"You guys seem tight." Jacob was studying him; a careful, watchful gaze that would have raised Garrus' hackles if he'd had any. Instead, it raised his suspicions and his caution.
"That's right. We're old war buddies," he said evenly. "Took out Saren, took out Sovereign, and about a half million geth along the way." Garrus didn't know where the Cerberus operative was going with his questions, but he knew he didn't like it. Maybe he just didn't like anyone asking him about Shepard.
Was it disloyal to talk about her when she wasn't here? It felt like it, as if there were something wrong in doing so. Garrus couldn't help the awkward, uncomfortable movement he made.
Jacob must have noticed, for he gave a quick grin and held up a hand. "Easy, Vakarian. I'm not snooping on the Commander. But you know her better than anyone on the ship. She's got this habit of checking in with her crew, always asking how things are going, get to know what makes us tick I guess. She always been like that?"
Did he know her best? Garrus wasn't sure of that. Joker and Dr Chakwas had served with her longer; they had been her crew on the Normandy since before he joined. But neither had gone into battle with her and Garrus knew better than most that Shepard was most real and alive on the battlefield. He considered Jacob's question carefully, then gave a graceful turian shrug. "She likes to know her crew. When we were up against Saren, it made sense. Still does." He kept his gaze level on Jacob's, neither blinking nor looking away, as he waited to see what the other man was really asking.
"Is it for real?"
The earnest tone of the question gave Garrus pause. Now he suddenly understood that Jacob was asking whether he could trust the Commander, really trust her. The turian relaxed again, his mandibles shifting into a more comfortable expression. "It's for real. Everything she does is for real. She doesn't pull any punches, and when she says something, she means it."
It didn't feel so bad, to be saying nice things about Shepard. Garrus decided he could get on board with this whole discussing the Commander thing if it stayed like this.
Jacob rubbed at his face with the towel, dropping his gaze as he did so. "Cerberus isn't like that. Neither is the Alliance, not really. I never had a CO who'd stop by after a mission for friendly heart to hearts and not have some ulterior motive."
"If you've got something to tell her, Jacob, she'll listen."
The human man grimaced. "It's not so much something I've got to tell her. More like a favor."
Ahhhh. Garrus felt the last puzzle piece click into place, and he stood slowly. "You're putting your life on the line to save the damn galaxy with her. Shepard gets that. Ask her – the worst she can do is say no."
The other man was nodding slowly, as if what Garrus had said had been particularly smart. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Can't hurt."
Garrus decided the friendly man-to-turian chat that they were having was getting a bit too friendly for his tastes, and it was probably a good idea to end it by leaving. Quickly. He stepped past Jacob carefully. "Good luck with it," was all he said as he headed straight for the doors. But Jacob's voice calling his name made him stop and look back in the other's direction.
Jacob looked even more uncomfortable than he felt. "Her and that Alliance guy on Horizon. Alenko. They were... close?" he ventured cautiously.
Immediately, Garrus felt his expression shut down, his gaze flattening into solid blankness. His features might as well have been carved from stone for all they revealed to Taylor.
Jacob sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, I figured. Forget it. See ya, Vakarian."
The turian turned sharply and made his escape to the sound of silent alarm bells ringing in his head.
He likes her. That Cerberus lapdog likes her.
Garrus would never understand the finer points of alien courtship enough to spot them unless they were written in twelve foot high neon signs. But there was no way in hell Garrus Vakarian would discuss any observations he might have made along the way about Shepard's relationship with Alenko. Or hell, her relationships with anyone. They were nobody's business but Shepard's, and if Jacob wanted to pursue her, he could damned well grow a spine and ask her himself.
As the turian stepped into the lift at the end of the corridor, he wasn't sure where to go after having fled the gym. Shepard should be finished with the krogan by now – surely – and if EDI hadn't sounded an alarm, she'd probably made it through the confrontation intact.
Coming to a quick decision, Garrus tapped a sharp talon against the glowing '3' button. The lift ascended sharply and he backed up to lean against the wall tiredly. Garrus knew if he fiddled with the Thanix canon much more, he'd probably end up driving EDI insane, but the idea of hiding in his bunk right now only annoyed him further.
The lift on the new Normandy was designed primarily for crew rather than moving equipment; it was more compact and moved swiftly between decks. It was only a moment before Garrus stepped out onto Deck 3, coming around past the mess and heading for the main battery.
When he happened to glance to his right to check that the med bay was not currently housing an injured Commander Shepard, there was nobody except Gardner to see it.
To his surprise, when he entered the main battery, Garrus found a light flashing on his console, indicating he had waiting mail. The only people who knew how to contact him aboard the Normandy were his sister, and the contacts he'd been using in his attempt to chase down Sidonis. Garrus accessed the waiting message hastily.
The origin source was encrypted, which was enough to assure Garrus the message wasn't from his sister. He leaned forward eagerly, talons sharply tapping in the decryption sequence and watching as the message resolved into legible text.
Vakarian,
Your former friend has a talent for disappearing. I've seen no movement on his listed name, and you know how good my resources are. But you turians don't change your spots – or your tattoos. It really narrows down the search parameters. Since you seem to think he won't stick around the Omega Nebula, I expanded my net and got a nibble well outside that sector of space. A turian matching that description with some very dubious identification took passage on a freighter at the relay in the Caleston Rift. It's next port of call is the Citadel, and I've got eyes there watching to get a positive ID once he arrives. I'll be in touch once I've got more for you.
-Dalina.
Garrus felt his mandibles curve sharply in satisfaction as he read, and re-read the brief message.
Dalina was a former C-Sec operative, an asari in the transition period between the maiden and mother stages of her life. Once she'd felt the urge to settle down growing stronger, the former C-Sec officer had left the Citadel and 'retired' to a pleasant garden world. However, old habits die hard, and she'd ended up working as a private investigator. A little bit of thrill in her life, but a whole lot more stability as she approached the mother phase of life, especially once she assumed a managerial role over her team of investigators. She'd been a respected senior officer in C-Sec during his time there, and more than happy to lend him the benefits of her new career. For a nominal fee, of course. Not even friendship came free in this galaxy.
Garrus had known Sidonis would get as far away from Omega as he could, as fast as he could. Any forged identity he had would have been hasty, and surely wouldn't withstand a detailed check, so he'd need new papers immediately. A good forger was easy enough to find on a place like the Citadel, and Garrus knew if he didn't catch the traitor before then, Sidonis would vanish into the galaxy under a new name, and never be heard from again.
But he had the bastard's scent now!
Freighters were a slow means of transit across the galaxy, and if Sidonis wanted to be out of sight and off the radar for a solid week or two, that was a good way to do it.
A week or two, and he'd have an answer. He knew it was Sidonis. He knew it. If Shepard kept her word to help him, Garrus would have that traitor in his scope sooner than he'd hoped.
"Am I interrupting?"
The Commander's voice startled him, and Garrus turned around at the sound. She was standing in the doorway, with one eyebrow quirked and a tired slump to her shoulders. A sharp glance assured him she bore no visible signs of injury or damage.
"Sorry, Commander. I was just in the middle of some calibrations," Garrus answered and gestured for her to come in. There was no need to bother her with half-baked intel, when she already looked weary. The turian watched as she crossed the main battery, taking her usual seat on the crate of tools against the far wall. It was almost automatic now for him to tap the door controls and lock them into privacy from Cerberus listening devices.
"How did it go with the krogan?" he asked with just the right degree of 'casual' in his tone, resolutely putting all thoughts of Sidonis away for the time being.
Shepard leaned forward on her knees and shot him a wry glance from under her eyebrows. "He's calling himself Grunt. He's got every bit of Wrex's attitude, and no idea what to do with it. He's going to be a handful, Garrus."
The turian crossed his arms and leaned back against his console thoughtfully. "Do you think he'll be worth it?" Garrus asked dubiously. Her faint grin told him she'd already taken a shining to their new recruit, so he had no doubt this 'Grunt' would be sticking around. But the last thing Garrus needed on the Normandy was another pain in the ass.
"He's got good instincts," she answered, and there was a glint in her eye that worried him.
"Not as good as yours," Garrus said immediately. She hadn't ended up in med-bay, after all.
To his chagrin, Shepard just grinned wider at him. "I didn't even have to head butt him. I just told him what we were up against and he fell all over himself trying to sign up for the big fight."
Garrus eyed her flatly, knowing that grin far too well. It was her self-satisfied look, the same one she got when she had just landed a kill shot right between the eyes of her target. "Wonderful. An over enthusiastic rookie. Are you going to test him out on Haestrom?"
"Nah. I thought I'd take Jacob on that one. He's been cooling his heels since Omega, and he's getting a little antsy."
One part of Garrus was pleased to hear she'd be keeping her promise to make recruiting Tali a priority; the rest registered an unexpected distaste at the mention of Jacob.
"You're right, he is," the turian agreed blandly.
It earned him a sharp look from the Commander. "What? You two have a run in? I don't need to go shoot his high horse out from under him, do I?"
Garrus chuckled softly. "Right," he drawled back at her. "Because you get to play protector after you banned me from deck four today?" He pinned her with his gaze, watching the initial spark of defiance fade into an expression of sheepishness, before she dropped her eyes in acknowledgement. He was surprised, but pleased that she appeared to accept his point. "It's fine. I told you, everybody's playing nice on the Normandy. Jacob was asking about you, that's all."
He wasn't going to mention the other thing. He wasn't.
"Huh. Okay. I'll stop by after the debriefing."
He wasn't.
"You shouldn't have gone in there alone, Shepard."
Well, he hadn't intended to say that, either. Garrus shifted uncomfortably when she looked at him in surprise, or maybe it was annoyance. He could usually read Shepard better than any other human, but the intricacies of human expression still eluded him at times.
Questioning your commanding officer... Way to go, Vakarian. This is going to end brilliantly.
Shepard's attention was fixed on him; that sharp, intense stare that made one feel not unlike bacteria under Mordin's microscope. Garrus closed his eyes, and wished heartily that he had the good doctor handy to surgically extract his foot from his mouth. He exhaled sharply.
"Shepard, I don't –"
When he opened his eyes, she was right in front of him, barely a foot away. Garrus snapped his jaw shut in alarm, staring down at the Commander; she could barely reach his chest, but he had no doubt she could kick his ass all over the main battery if she chose.
"It's okay, Garrus. I asked you to step up and be my right hand man. Then I went into a dangerous and unpredictable situation solo, without any backup."
Her eyes were luminous under the bright lighting of the main battery, and Garrus wondered how vindication could make him feel like even more of a jackass. "You're the Commander, Shepard. You call the shots, you make the rules. I shouldn't have... questioned that."
To his bemusement, Shepard just rolled her eyes at him.
"Garrus, come on. You're the only one on this damn ship who can question me... Who should question me." Shepard's mouth twisted into a small human smile. Startled, he watched as she lifted a hand to rest it lightly against his arm in silent apology. Without his armor, he could feel the warmth of her flesh radiating through his sleeve and brushing the plating beneath it.
The surreal nature of the moment made his brain crack a little, and Garrus found himself speaking quickly without really knowing what was coming out of his mouth. "Krogans react to strength, you needed to prove from the get-go that you were strong enough for him to follow. If you'd had backup, he would have taken that as a sign of weakness. You would have had to fight him to prove your strength. Having me there would have made the situation... more dangerous for you. Not less."
Shepard nodded. "That's true."
Garrus stared down at her in dawning comprehension. "You knew that when you kicked me out." She nodded again. "Then it was the right call. It was the smart call."
The infuriating woman grinned up at him. "It was."
He studied her unrepentant expression and grimaced. "Dammit, Shepard, if you stop inviting me to all the interesting parties, I'm going to think you don't like me anymore," Garrus finally retorted in a low drawl.
Shepard snorted. "EDI said you'd behaved yourself and followed orders. Even if you didn't agree with them."
Why was it that talking to Shepard had the result of either making him feel ten feet tall... or confused as hell? It seemed to be a fifty-fifty split. Right now, Garrus had the strangest feeling that maybe she hadn't particularly wanted him to obey this order.
"Isn't that the point of being a soldier, Shepard?" the turian asked cautiously.
"Soldiers have a tendency to get tunnel vision – a bit like snipers. I can't afford to do that, or the Collectors will flank me and kick my ass before I even see them coming."
Garrus blinked slowly, grappling with the idea. Is that what happened on Omega? I couldn't see the bigger picture? I was so focussed on the mission, I didn't see Sidonis' betrayal until it was too late... Tunnel vision. Damn.
It was a clear lesson, and one he had to learn fast and hard. He thought of Harbinger speaking Shepard's name back on Horizon, and realized he couldn't afford to be that narrow anymore. Garrus couldn't afford to repeat his mistakes from Omega. He wasn't going to lose another team.
"So now what?" the turian demanded. "If we have an overly enthusiastic krogan, we can't keep him leashed up. Wrex was bad enough and he had more self control than most krogans I've seen."
Shepard directed a speculative glance at him. "Before I can send him out into the field, I need to have a better idea of his capabilities. Test him out for me, hey big guy? He's settling down in the cargo hold now, but I've got to debrief with the Illusive Man."
"Sure, Shepard. Let's hope Papa Okeer didn't read him any history books about the genophage while he was in the tank," Garrus muttered, shaking his head. "What do I get if I head butt him into submission?"
"I'll hold your hand while Dr Chakwas patches you up afterwards."
Garrus looked over to catch her smirking at him. "You're all heart, Commander. But I'd rather not have Jacob come gunning for me." The words were barely past his mandibles when Garrus froze awkwardly, frantically wishing he could recall them. Hadn't he already made a plan, a quite satisfactory plan, in which he wasn't going to mention this?
Shepard wasn't an idiot, and her suddenly stiff body language showed she'd caught the subtext plain enough. "Jacob?"
Awkwardly, the turian shrugged and looked away from her direct gaze. "Yeah... He, uh... It looks like you've got a... uh... fan," he managed to get out, unable to look her in the eye.
"Ahh." Shepard gave him an equally uncomfortable look in return, rubbing the back of her neck with embarrassment. "Yeah. I kind of got that impression. I think he misinterpreted some... Well, maybe he took it wrong when I stopped by to talk once or twice." She shot him a rueful look. "Guess I'd better set him right before he embarrasses himself too much. Did he... uh... say something to you?"
The expression of dawning horror on her face was too much for him; it was rare to see Shepard looking so discomfited. It broke through the awkwardness of the moment and made Garrus laugh briefly. "Not exactly. But I think there's something he wants to ask you. Not about that."
"Great." Shepard sighed heavily.
The turian smirked. "Debrief with the Illusive Man doesn't sound so bad now, does it?"
She gave a surprised bark of laughter and shoved at his shoulder in rebuke. "Thanks, big guy. You go take care of Grunt, I'll deal with Jacob. Meet you in my cabin after dinner to go over the Haestrom mission plans?"
"It's a date, Commander."
Chuckling under her breath, Shepard left the main battery and he heard the door close behind her. In the silence that filled the small room with her absence, Garrus recognised that he'd gotten off lucky with his inadvertent slip. Or maybe Jacob was right, and one of the benefits of being her old war buddy was that Garrus could broach more topics with her than he'd realized.
That was an interesting idea.
Of course, Garrus didn't doubt for a heartbeat, that if their positions had been reversed and she'd learned a turian woman had a crush on him, Shepard wouldn't have stopped teasing him about it for weeks. Possibly months.
Shaking his head to dismiss the whole issue of Jacob Taylor and the unfathomable matter of human mating rituals, Garrus turned back to his console and accessed the mail program again. The prospect of getting his talons on Sidonis was far more appealing right now. A quick review of Dalina's message made it clear that there was too much chance the traitor could leave the Citadel before Garrus could get there. If it was Sidonis - and he was sure of it - then Garrus would need to delay the traitor, keep him stuck on the Citadel until the Normandy could get there. Garrus considered the dilemna for a moment, then his mandibles curved in satisfaction.
Methodically, Garrus tapped his long, sharp talons against the small, human-sized keyboard as he composed a message to an old friend still living on the Citadel.
Alzien,
A turian from Gerava Colony will be arriving on a freighter from the Caleston Rift in seven days. He will be looking to procure an illegal ID as quickly as possible, and I need him delayed until I can get there. Hold him up in customs for the full 48 hours, and run the full quarantine on him. That should give me the time I need. I'll consider this payment in full for not reporting that incident with you and the Ambassador's niece in the Presidium pools.
-Garrus.
The message vanished with the click of a key and Garrus exhaled slowly in satisfaction. Dalina's people would verify it was Sidonis, Alzien would stop him from getting new ID and vanishing before Garrus could get there. He and Shepard would be done with Haestrom by then, and he could broach the topic of a stop by the Citadel.
If she agreed...
Garrus shook his head in certainty. Shepard keeps her word. She would take him to the Citadel, and he would kill Sidonis.
For the first time in hours, Garrus felt the restless tension ease out of his lean frame. He would take Shepard with him, when he went after Sidonis.
He didn't trust anyone else to have at his back.