A/N - I know it's been a long wait for this chapter, so thanks to everyone who's stuck with it. And once again, thanks to Stormflite for being my beta!
To those who are eagerly awaiting the transition from friendship, I promise the Reach & Flexibility conversation is only a few chapters away. Reviews feed my muse and make me write faster! :)
The burning red glare of an angry star outlined the tense lines of the Illusive Man's jaw, casting him briefly in shadow, then illuminating him in bright scarlet as he shook his head.
"I'm not providing you with resources and intel for the hell of it, Shepard. I expect something in return."
Shepard leaned back on one leg, and crossed her arms defiantly as she studied the holographic image of Cerberus' illustrious leader. She'd known refusing to upload the intel recovered on Lorek would cause some issues, but it was her call and she was sticking to it. "Our deal covered the Collector attacks on human colonies. Not these little jobs your people keep sending through on the side."
"You're being paid quite well for those minor tasks, as I recall," the Illusive Man reminded her, inhaling deeply enough of his cigarette that the end flickered as brightly as the star behind him.
"And I get you results. You asked me to find your missing operative and rescue him if I could. We were too late. Not much I can do about that. Consider yourself lucky that I'm not uploading that data to the Alliance." Shepard presented him with her most charming smile. "I'm sure they'd have been more than happy to get it handed to them."
It was too damn close to a threat, and Shepard could almost feel herself holding her breath as she walked a very narrow, very dangerous line. If she pushed too hard here, she could compromise her only damn resource on this mission. To her relief, the Illusive Man simply exhaled a mouthful of smoke and inclined his head in acknowledgement of her point. Letting her breath out, she decided she might as well continue on the offensive, since it was going so well for her today.
"EDI's shown me the analysis of previous Collector attacks on human colonies, and there's a clear timeline. We're getting pretty damn close to expecting another one. A few weeks, a month at the most." Shepard let the frustration that had been riding her lately trickle through into her demeanour, as she leaned in closer to the communications console. "How close are we to having any idea where to go next?"
The Illusive Man pressed the glowing tip of his cigarette into an ashtray by his arm rest and regarded her thoughtfully. He was always calm. Too damn calm. Most of the time, he drove her crazy with his ruthlessness and his arrogance, but no matter what she said or did, he only ever showed her that composed mask.
"I promise you, Shepard, I have my best people working on it. We have several leads, but nothing I'm prepared to commit the Normandy to without further corroboration. In the meantime, I'm forwarding you through a dossier for another potential recruit." The Illusive Man graced her with another of his pleasant, meaningless smiles. "You've built a strong team, but make sure they're all focussed on the mission. I'll be in touch once we receive confirmation of our investigations."
Complacent smile still firmly in place, the Illusive Man touched a control by his arm rest, and the holographic connection closed. Shepard opened her mouth to reply – pointlessly; the link was already broken – and closed it with a sharp snap as the image of the Illusive Man collapsed back into the holo-grid.
"I've never heard anyone speak to him the way you do."
Shepard glanced sideways at Miranda, who had been standing outside the grid for the conversation. "Pissed off and annoyed? I figured he must get that from everyone he speaks to."
The Cerberus operative gave her an amused smile, and a shake of her dark head. "Not at all. Most of the Illusive Man's personal negotiations are handled smoothly and profitably for everyone involved. That's how he maintains his operations. It's very rare for someone to challenge him the way you do."
Bet he's regretting investing all that money into me now.
Shepard leaned forward to rest her weight on the solid wooden frame of the desk. "I can't see you falling in line if you disagree, Miranda. Not even for him."
"The Illusive Man has helped me a lot over the years, but he's still my boss, Shepard. I know how far I can push and I respect that."
The Commander studied her thoughtfully. "I appreciate you backing me on this one."
"To be honest, not even I could crack EDI's encryptions to get the intel for the Illusive Man. But thank you for the compliment," she added, the corner of her mouth creeping up.
Seeing past the cold calculation that Miranda masked herself with was a new and interesting phenomenon. Beyond that fiercely analytical mind was an almost shy sense of humor, an astonishingly fragile personality, and an individual that Shepard was becoming quite pleased to know. She hoped like hell that trusting this woman wouldn't bite her in the ass. Miranda as a willing ally would be an invaluable resource, but she'd been loyal to Cerberus for so long that it remained a risky venture.
Her instincts said go for it, though, and Shepard had always trusted her instincts. "No regrets?"
Miranda's smile faded visibly. "After Niket... I've always considered myself an excellent judge of character. Turns out, I'm not. I thought I could trust Niket, and I was wrong. It's not a mistake I want to repeat. I've been questioning a lot of things since Illium, Shepard." Dark, determined eyes met Shepard's gaze. "But not you. So no. No regrets. Not about this."
"The Illusive Man helped you find Oriana too, Miranda," Shepard pointed out, intrigued by this revelation.
The Cerberus operative smiled, her expression warm, frank and yet somehow still a total mystery - something Shepard was finding to be typical of the real Miranda Lawson.
"I didn't see the Illusive Man down there, risking his life to save my sister," Miranda said pointedly. With that perfect smile still firmly in place, she gave a nod of farewell and left the briefing room.
Shaking her head, Shepard turned back to the briefing desk. "EDI, has that new dossier arrived?"
In the empty space in the centre of the sleek wooden table, a display appeared in response. "Yes, Commander. Zaaed Massani, an individual that the Illusive Man describes as a 'relentless and ruthless bounty hunter,'" the AI informed her.
Staring into the image of a scarred, weathered human face brimming with insolence and bad attitude, Shepard resisted the urge to groan aloud. "Just what I need, another hardass with a chip on their shoulder."
Jack was difficult enough to deal with, and getting worse. She barely came out of her below-decks nest anymore, and when she did, she invariably picked fights with the first person she saw in a Cerberus insignia. The biotic would need to be dealt with sooner, rather than later, particularly now that she'd located a planet called Pragia and decided she wanted to blow it up to resolve all of her childhood traumas.
Leaning in closer to the slowly scrolling dossier, Shepard narrowed her eyes at the pick-up location. "Omega?"
"The Illusive Man has embedded a secure frequency we can use to notify Mr Massani once we reach Omega," EDI advised, and Shepard hoped she was reading too much into the hint of hesitation in that smooth, composed voice. If even the AI could read trouble in Massani's profile, this was going to be messy.
"Dammit. The one place in the Terminus Systems I didn't want to go back to." The Commander observed the limited intel shifting through the display before her, playing out her options. On one hand, she had what amounted to an Omega inhabitant living right here on her ship. On the other hand, he wasn't exactly Mr Popularity back there.
There's always Mordin...
"Where's Garrus right now?" Shepard asked, with that possibility running through her mind. Mordin had been intently focussed in his lab lately, and she was reluctant to tear him away if unnecessary... but nor would she put Vakarian's life at risk for a simple collection.
"Office Vakarian is in the armory."
Shepard's eyebrows lifted in surprise before she could stop herself. The armory wouldn't normally be her first port of call in trying to track down Garrus, but lately he and Jacob had been holed up there every chance they had. In a way, it was a relief to see them working so well together. Jacob had been pretty isolated ever since Aeia. She should have known if anything would draw him out, it would be big guns – and nobody liked big guns more than Garrus.
"Thanks, EDI."
"Logging you out, Commander."
When she reached the armory, the two men were bent over the workbench with their backs to her.
"This mother is never going to recharge fast enough to get more than one, maybe two shots off in a mission," Jacob said in frustration.
"Look at that output. Do you really think anything but a Reaper will need more than two shots from this thing?" Garrus purred back smugly.
What the hell have these two cooked up?
Shepard cleared her throat pointedly, and the two men turned quickly to regard her with matching expressions of surprise. "Haven't seen the two of you around for a while. New project?"
She watched the two of them exchange a long, measuring glance, before Garrus shrugged eloquently.
"Just a little something to keep us from getting bored, Shepard," the turian drawled back lazily, taking a step sideways. Jacob edged away as well, exposing the workbench and a squat, bulky weapon, painted a nauseating combination of black and yellow.
Shepard quirked an eyebrow and stepped closer curiously. It was a monster of a heavy weapon, but even a cursory glance showed it wasn't mass effect-based like most of their heavy weapons. It looked like a miniaturised version of something heavy infantry would use. She picked it up cautiously, testing the weight of it and finding it was about as heavy as she'd expected. This thing would be a bitch to cart around.
"We were calling it the Nuke Launcher," Jacob volunteered with a grin. "But EDI wanted something a little more official sounding to log it by, so now it's the M-920 Cain." He called up the specs on the weapon on his omni-tool, tilting his arm so that Shepard could read the display. Her eyes widened in amazement, and a surge of delight that helped push aside the edge of her frustration with the Illusive Man's lack of results.
Hell. They built me a mini nuke. That explains the color scheme.
Shepard made the mistake of glancing sidelong at Garrus, finding him closer than she'd expected. The turian gave a lazy wink with the eye not covered by his visor, and Shepard learned very quickly that her 'ignore it and take cold showers' approach did not work when he was presenting her with shiny new guns. Or standing so close. Or...
Goddammit.
Shepard clenched her jaw and sternly reprimanded her hormones, laying the weapon carefully back onto the bench. This sudden fascination with her best sniper was something she was still coming to terms with, but Shepard refused to let things get awkward with Garrus. And hell.. he might be oblivious, but Jacob was human and he'd pick up on this if she didn't watch herself.
So she gave herself a firm mental shake, leaned back against the island workbench, and summoned up a smile for the two men.
"Impressive work," she praised. "But I overheard something about a recharge issue?"
Jacob grimaced, cutting off the spec display and crossing his arms. "Yeah. Damn thing's power cells are massive, but they run slow as hell. It has a four second charge time before you can take a shot. We're working on that, but for right now, stay in cover and watch your six if you want to use this."
"Or make sure you have the best sniper in the Terminus systems watching your back," Garrus drawled cheerfully from over her shoulder.
"Only the Terminus systems, Vakarian? You losing your edge?" Jacob shot back.
"Just trying to be modest, Taylor," the turian demurred.
Shepard shook her head. Give a pair of soldiers some shiny new guns to bond over and they'd inevitably come out buddies. But she couldn't deny she was glad to see Jacob coming out of his funk, and if he started to open up to Garrus and the other nonhumans on their team, this project had been a success beyond the development of the Cain.
"We'll take it down for a trial run on the next mission," Shepard promised Jacob.
He shot her a grin. "Appreciate that, Commander. So how'd it go with the Illusive Man? Is he pissed you're not giving him the intel?"
She tried not to grimace and failed. "He's not pulling the plug on us, which I count as a win. Still no news on the Collectors though."
"Nothing?" Garrus asked in surprise.
"Not what we need," Shepard clarified regretfully. "We're running out of time and all he has is more dossiers for us to chase our tails over."
They all knew their mission would end up at the Omega 4 relay, hunting the Collectors through it to whatever hell lay beyond. But it would be suicide to try it now. Trapped between that knowledge, and the ticking mental clock of EDI's time frame, Shepard could feel the pressure mounting.
Garrus was watching her with too damn much understanding. He exchanged a quick glance with Jacob, and the Cerberus operative pushed off from the workbench easily.
"Then if we're still en route to Daratar, I'll get the Cain down to the shuttle and make sure we're locked and loaded for planet fall," Jacob commented casually, hefting the garish weapon into his arms. He gave Shepard that quick grin that said nothing at all - much like Miranda's smile - and moved between her and Garrus to head for the door to CIC.
Shepard could feel Garrus' eyes on her as Jacob left and she wondered if he would say anything. He wasn't normally one to poke and pry, but she had been encouraging him to take on a more equal role in their friendship. The part of her that had recently become intensely curious about what he was hiding under his armor was particularly interested in seeing whether he'd try to push the boundaries.
Being Garrus, he didn't disappoint.
"Bad day?" the turian drawled smoothly at her. He turned to lean back against the workbench, crossing his arms as he faced her head on.
"I don't remember any other kind of day lately."
"Hmmm. I've been a little worried about you, Shepard. I've never seen you this tense before, not even when we were chasing after Saren."
"Things were different then," she reflected. "We didn't know the importance of what we were doing, not really. And besides, I had the Alliance, the Council and every other damn person we came across telling me what to do."
Garrus must have caught the cynicism in her tone, because the look he slanted over her was more thoughtful than amused. "If you miss being ordered around, we could give Udina a call. I know how much he enjoys telling you what to do."
Laughter tangled at the back of her throat. "No thanks. I think I'm hardwired to challenge orders these days, must have picked it up when they made me a Spectre. It's good intel I'm lacking." With a frustrated sigh, Shepard planted her palms firmly on the edge of the bench behind her and pushed herself up to sit on it. With her feet swaying an inch or two above the ground, she eyed Garrus across the small distance between them challengingly. "Besides, don't act like you aren't just as frustrated with how little we have to go on the Collectors out here."
He glanced away immediately, the evasion answer enough. Without meeting her eyes, he answered in a soft, serious voice. "We both know where this mission is going to end up, and we're still eager to get there. Some people might call us crazy." His blue eyes lifted to regard her steadily.
"Hell, Garrus, they'd probably be right." She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to ignore the strength of his gaze. "We're flying blind out here with our only set of eyes belonging to a man so twisted I doubt he can see straight. It wasn't that long ago that we were attacking Cerberus bases – his bases - and now he's all I've got to help me track down the Collectors."
The blue armor in her peripheral vision shifted. Shepard looked up in time to see him moving closer, his expression serious.
"I saw EDI's analysis too, Shepard," he reminded her softly. "I know how close we are to expecting another attack on a human colony."
It was that expectation that made it so difficult – the ticking clock in the back of her brain; relentless and pounding louder than ever. Shepard exhaled slowly, and nodded. "I don't even want to imagine what happened to those poor bastards from Horizon, once the Collectors got them beyond the Omega 4 relay. I know it sure as hell wasn't pretty. I know it'll happen to more people if I don't figure out some way to stop it."
"Hey." The sharp tone was her only warning before a three-digit turian hand curled sharply around Shepard's right forearm. Startled, she looked up into Vakarian's looming face; it was as close to a frown as it could be and his eyes were fierce. Her immediate reaction was to free herself, but Shepard restrained the instinct and waited, still and patient, under his careful grip.
Garrus tilted his head towards her, eyes bright and clear. "You do remember you're not in this alone, right? I seem to recall you sweet talking me out of Omega with the promise of a walk into hell together."
Of course, she remembered. Could she even imagine doing this without him? Not just the combat, when she trusted his scope would be watching her six. But here, like this, now. Planning with her, analysing the intel, bringing a fresh set of eyes that she had come to value even more than his skill with a rifle. Shepard smiled reassuringly up into the face of his concern, and touched his hand lightly with her own.
"We remember Omega a little different, big guy, but I'll blame that on you being delirious from all that medi gel while I rescued your ass from a nest of mercs," she replied, keeping her voice deliberately light. "But since you're so keen for this road trip to hell, lay it all out for me. We've got no intel and we're running out of time. Tell me honestly, Garrus. What do you think our chances are?"
She tilted her chin at him, pinning him with her eyes. Garrus rocked back on his heels, letting go of her arm.
"Honestly? The Collectors killed you once, and all it did is piss you off. I can't imagine they'll stop you this time." His low-pitched laughter was layered with the effortless charm of Garrus Vakarian. It had her smiling, just a little, as he pushed away from the bench and began pacing the length of the armory.
Shepard watched that tactical mind of his kick into gear; the sharp cunning that she appreciated even more than his good aim. The Commander leaned back and listened intently as her right-hand man laid it all out for her in clear, surgical precision.
"An unmapped area, advanced technology, and the Collectors? We're going to lose people. No way around that." Garrus paused and eyed her carefully. "Not a happy analysis, I know. Don't worry, I won't spread it around. And I'm with you regardless."
"You're still too damn keen for missions with suicidal odds, big guy," she chastised.
"Shepard." The low, flanging tone was uncharacteristically reproving. "Whatever happens with the Collectors or the Reapers, or whoever else comes after us... I know you'll get the job done."
Her expression blanched as she tried to decide if that comment was amusing or just straight-up horrifying. "You actually think we'll find something worse than Collectors or Reapers?" she demanded, vaguely appalled at the thought.
Garrus shrugged. "I like to expect the worst. There's a small chance I'll be pleasantly surprised."
Hell. She hadn't come here for a pep talk, but damn if he wasn't giving her one. Some kind of strange turian pep talk, maybe. Because even though the situation was just as precarious as a moment ago, the path before them just as blind, somehow the unshakeable certainty of this man made it seem manageable. Shepard found herself staring at him in bemusement, trying to work out just when his faith in her had come to mean so damn much to her.
"I couldn't do this without you, Garrus," she told him bluntly, and saw him smile that strange and now-familiar turian smile.
"Sure you could. Not as stylishly, of course," he drawled back at her. Then, in an instant, the humor vanished as he stepped closer again. "I'm not saying it'll be easy. We're still blind and the clock's still ticking. But unless we somehow hook up with the Shadow Broker, Cerberus is probably the best chance we have of getting solid intel on the Collectors."
Shepard had to concede that point. Reluctantly. "So we wait."
Garrus nodded. "We wait. I know patience isn't always your best point."
That's for damn sure.
With a low laugh, Shepard held up her hands in defence. "Okay, fine. It's not like there are any other viable options at the moment anyway. And we have enough to do in the mean time. If we don't get Jack to Pragia soon, she's going to throw a fit big enough to breach the hull."
"Mmm. And I hear Kasumi's side job has a due date."
Surprise had her sitting up straight and staring across the armory at him. "She only spoke to me about that this morning. How did you find out?"
Garrus' expression was caught somewhere between embarrassed and smug. "She sent me a message. Something about it being a two man job and she'd bring me back something pretty." The uninjured mandible twitched briefly. "I was hoping you could fill me in?"
Damn. Shepard shook her head. "You probably know as much as me. Bekenstein, three days from now. She promised it's infiltration only. That's all I've got. She's playing things awfully close to her chest."
"Bekenstein? That's in the middle of nowhere. What the hell does she want to steal out there?"
The Commander bit back a smile. There had never really been any doubt in her mind either about the nature of Kasumi's job. "Hell if I know. I'm just hoping it's not something that will draw any more attention to us."
He didn't look happy. "You need back up. Especially if the mission brief is this slim."
"I agree," Shepard answered easily. "Which is why I want you and Thane stationed in a shuttle, prepped and ready to evac us if necessary. I don't like running missions blind, and we still know very little about Kasumi Goto."
That eased the tense lines that were visible even under his armor. Shepard didn't like the idea of walking into Kasumi's job without Garrus watching her back. She saw no need to inform the thief about her alternate arrangements. When necessary, Shepard could play things close to her chest too.
She pushed off the work bench smoothly and lifted an arm to activate her omni-tool. "In the meantime, take a look at the dossier Cerberus sent through. We're supposed to pick him up from your old hunting grounds."
"Zaeed Massani?" Garrus asked in a tone heavy with surprise. He leaned in closer to study the dossier.
Shepard looked up and over her shoulder at him. "Sounds like you know him," she deduced.
"Everybody on Omega knows him," Garrus replied drily, his gaze flicking briefly to her own before sliding back to the scrolling dossier. "He's got more notches on his gun than both of us combined. And he's a mercenary, through and through; Cerberus must be paying him a small fortune to get him to sign up. I'm not saying he isn't worth the credits... But he can be reckless... Excessive. Where a gunshot would do, he'd use a frag grenade. Where you'd need a grenade, he'd turn an entire base to rubble. His nickname was Overkill, and it was well earned."
She studied the weathered, scarred face on the dossier speculatively. He's definitely going to be trouble, Shepard concluded with a mental sigh. Her eyes snagged on the edge of the tattoo barely visible at his neck, mostly hidden by the edge of his armor. She had caught it in her first quick viewing of the image, but the significance of it impacted suddenly.
"He's with the Blue Suns?"
We spend half our time ploughing through the Suns out here, and the Illusive Man recruited one of them?
But Garrus was shaking his head reassuringly. "Not anymore. There's definitely some kind of history there, but he almost seems to go out of his way to cause trouble for them. I don't think there'll be any conflict of interests."
Shepard's lips thinned in displeasure but she accepted that at face value. "So what's your take on recruiting him?"
The turian leaned back and considered her question seriously. "He'd be a good asset when we take on the Collectors. He's well trained, he knows his job. I wouldn't put him in charge of anything, but from what I've heard, I think he'll follow orders if there's a hefty pay check in it for him."
Nodding, she deactivated the omni-tool and let her hand drop back to her side. "That matches the intel from Cerberus. It's supposed to be a straight pickup. Maybe it will be as simple as Kasumi's."
Garrus sighed heavily. "Nothing on Omega is simple."
Well, she couldn't deny that. "Any suggestions? We've got a coded frequency to call him on once we get close, but I want to avoid any unnecessary exposure on Omega."
"You mean, you don't want anyone learning that Archangel is still alive and kicking?" He smirked at her. "Don't worry, Shepard. If we play it smart, we won't even need to leave the docking area."
She opened her mouth to reply - smug bastard always had an answer ready, didn't he? - when EDI's voice sounded overhead, terse with urgency.
"Commander, there is a disturbance in the mess hall."
Shepard met Garrus' eyes in immediate, shared understanding.
"Jack," they said simultaneously, and Shepard followed it up with a muttered curse she half hoped his translator wouldn't catch.
"Yes, Commander," EDI replied. "She has instigated physical conflict with Crewman Walker."
Shepard was halfway out the door before EDI finished her explanation and she didn't need to look over her shoulder to know that Garrus was hot on her heels. He was a shadow looming in familiar patterns, the movement caught in her peripheral vision and filtered out instantly because she knew it belonged there.
CIC passed them in a blur, and a moment later Shepard was slamming her fist down on the elevator controls, the doors sliding closed on Kelly Chambers alarmed expression. The lift dropped far too slowly down towards the Crew Deck.
"She's getting out of control," Shepard said regretfully, her thoughts coalescing into a clear decision. Meeting his gaze, she watched him read her intent in her face. She didn't like it. It felt a little too much like rewarding Jack for bad behaviour, but her options were limited if she wanted to keep Jack on the ship.
"You can't put it off much longer," Garrus agreed, regarding her sombrely. "But if the Illusive Man didn't pull his resources because you withheld the data we found on Lorek, he probably won't mind us blowing up one of Cerberus' old bases."
"Hey Joker?"
The pilot's voice answered immediately, filling the close confines of the elevator. "I'm here, Commander. In the cockpit. Avoiding the psychotic biotic."
"Can we make Pragia and still get to Bekenstein in time?"
There was a pause while Joker ran the numbers. "It'll be tight, Commander. You'll only have a few hours on Pragia. Uh. How long does it take to resolve years of trauma and that much crazy?"
Shepard grimaced. "How long does it take to blow up a base?"
The doors opened and she and Vakarian moved out instantly, rounding the corners at a swift pace. Shepard expected to come into a combat situation, figuring she'd have to drop Jack to end whatever fight the girl had picked today. The Commander readied her own biotics, even though she knew she was no match for Jack on that playing field. It was still safer than firing a weapon as a disciplinary measure.
What they found instead was entirely unexpected.
Shepard came to a sudden halt at the edge of the mess hall, Vakarian skidding to a stop beside her. There were a handful of crew crouched behind the overturned dining table, and Gardner peeked up over the edge of his galley. Chairs were tumbled here and there, scattered with overturned trays of food that had been smeared across the deck. In the centre of it, sporting a nosebleed and a split lip, Jack had been knocked onto her ass. Samara stood over her, heeled feet nestled neatly between the legs of an upturned chair and her expression as serenely composed as ever. The active biotic field radiating a faint blue over the asari told the story clearer than words could.
The Justicar glanced up at their approach.
"I hope you don't mind my intervention, Shepard. Old habits are hard to break," Samara commented calmly.
Garrus cleared his throat. "You didn't have any trouble?" he asked, and Shepard could read the surprise in his voice. Personally, she didn't know what to say. She'd seen Samara in action, but she'd also seen Jack. In all honesty, Shepard would have ranked them pretty damn close to even on the biotic scale.
"Your companion is very powerful, but a thousand years of honing ones abilities does bring certain advantages," Samara replied, letting the biotic field collapse back into her skin. She smiled down at Jack, and there was something almost like fondness there. "She reminds me of my daughter. When she was very, very young."
Jack's upper lip twisted into the familiar snarl, and Shepard decided to step in before the ex-convict started the fight again.
"Jack, enough. We're scheduled to hit Pragia in the next 24 hours."
That made the girl pause. She hesitated, then pulled herself to her feet. It was easy to see Jack was still suspicious, still angry and looking for a fight. But they all knew Jack had been taking her frustration out on whoever crossed her path and with her reason for being pissed taken away, she hesitated for a moment. Then the biotic jerked her chin at Garrus.
"I suppose Blue is coming along too?" she demanded.
Shepard didn't have to reply. Garrus did it for her, his voice low and resonant as it came from somewhere past her right shoulder.
"That's the plan. You know how much I enjoy blowing things up."
It was a delicate moment and Shepard wasn't sure if she'd still have to take Jack down or not. But the lazy humor in Garrus' reply turned the mood. Jack snorted scornfully, but her mouth was curling up into a grin. She wiped at the line of blood under her nose, smearing it more than removing it, and Jack flicked her attention from Garrus to Shepard and then - briefly - to Samara.
The Justicar was the epitome of composure, smiling faintly as she regarded Jack in return.
"I wish you luck on your mission, Jack. Perhaps you will find what you're looking for there." Samara turned, tilting her head towards them. "Commander Shepard. Officer Vakarian."
She moved past them smoothly, that careful control emanating from her as she departed the room. Shepard gave her a distracted nod, made a mental note to stop by and thank her later on, and kept her attention on Jack.
The biotic was regarding her with a growing grin that was just a little too wild. "It's about damn time, Shepard. I was starting to think I'd have to kill you and take the ship there myself."
It was Jack and it was probably hot air but it was never a good idea to underestimate someone as broken as her. Shepard gave her an ironic smile in return and said nothing until the girl had sauntered out. Jack was getting what she wanted. It was the deal Shepard had made to get her on board, and past time she kept her end.
Afterwards? She would have to see how Jack decided to play her cards after Pragia. There was still every chance the girl would ditch them at the first stop they made.
The crew that had been eating in the mess hall before Jack arrived began to carefully emerge from behind the scattered cover they'd taken refuge behind. Shepard didn't blame them. None of them were biotic, and even she didn't go armed around the Normandy. She felt Garrus sigh beside her.
"Anybody hurt?" Shepard asked, scanning the handful of crew carefully. Sarah Walker, the navigator who had probably done something entirely innocent and been the inadvertent trigger to Jack's bad mood, lifted a hand slowly. Her other arm hung twisted and clearly damaged at her side.
Dammit. She looked from the injured navigator to the chaos of the mess hall and restrained the urge to curse. They were due to land on Daratar in less than an hour, and Jacob was waiting down in the shuttle bay for her already. Jack could spend the next few hours cooling off; Shepard would deal with her when they got back.
Garrus' hand landed on her shoulder, sudden and unexpected. Long turian fingers pressed down gently. "I can deal with this mess, Shepard. You head down to the shuttle bay and get ready. I'll meet you there in half an hour."
The tension that had been coiling through her body eased out in a sudden rush. Shepard exhaled slowly, and turned to meet his gaze in a moment of silent recognition. His focus was clear and relaxed; the consummate professional. Hell, Garrus had more experience dealing with the after-effects of domestic disputes than she did, thanks to his days in C-Sec. This was right up his alley.
I couldn't do this without you, Garrus.
And it wasn't just the mission. It had never been just the mission. It was the day to day crap that life threw at her, running the Normandy and trying to keep everything on track. It was too big for one person to cope with, even if that person was Commander Shepard.
She watched Garrus give her a reassuring nod, before he turned away to deal with this minor matter; releasing her to focus on the mission. Shepard turned without a word and made her way back towards the elevator, her head full of thoughts she'd been trying to suppress for the past few weeks.
She needed Garrus. Not just in combat, not just as a friend to pass the time with. Shepard looked at her life and her job, and she couldn't see it working without him anymore. She'd ruthlessly buried her unexpected attraction to him because she figured it was a ridiculous idea that could never work. A human and a turian? Forty years ago, they'd been at war.
But Commander Shepard wasn't just some human, and Garrus Vakarian had never been just another turian.
So, what the hell. As Shepard stepped into the elevator and it dropped her down deeper into the belly of the Normandy, she allowed herself to open her mind to the possibility of maybe... perhaps... one day acting on this.
Well, hell. I guess it's time to stop the cold showers and see where this goes.