A/N - The story lives! Happy Valentine's Day to my faithful readers :)
Garrus circled the long conference table, eying the seemingly innocuous device resting on its surface with all the analytic power his visor possessed. Even though he knew both Tali and EDI had subjected the Reaper IFF to the most thorough scrutiny the Normandy offered, and his visor had no hope of catching anything they'd missed, he couldn't help himself.
Sonar, nothing. Electro-magnetic, nothing. Thermal, still nothing. Biotic field resonance, less than nothing.
Garrus resisted the urge to swear. Reaper tech. Sitting innocently on their conference room table, as silent and inert as the not-so-deserted ship it came from had first appeared.
"Nothing? Not even a scratch?" he demanded, crossing his arms and staring unhappily at the IFF.
"I used everything we have on this ship," Tali answered on a sigh. "We can't pry it open, Garrus. It doesn't have any weak points, even down to the molecular level. I can't get a read on what's inside the casing."
Jacob muttered something inaudible under his breath, planting his hands on the edge of the table and leaning forward. "So the only way to access whatever's inside this thing is to link into it?"
None of them liked that idea. Hooking up to Reaper tech could only end poorly. Doing it blind was sheer stupidity, but their choices were limited. The Illusive Man's instructions required a direct hook up to use the IFF, but they had nothing in place to prevent it accessing the Normandy - or EDI - in return.
"The Commander won't like it," Jacob added, glaring at the device.
No, but she'll do it anyway if it's the only choice we have available.
After escaping the Reaper ship, they'd retreated back to Omega, which was becoming too close to their base of operations for Vakarian's liking. Shepard had left the initial recon of the IFF to her most skilled techs, while she went station side with Samara. The Justicar had some indication that her missing daughter might be there, and Shepard had volunteered to help her track down some leads.
At least it gave her something productive to do instead of harassing Tali and EDI every five minutes. But she's going to want some sort of answer when she gets back.
Vakarian knew his wariness was shared by the others Shepard had assigned to investigate the IFF. Certainly he saw it echoed in the weary set of Tali's shoulders and the frustrated scowl Jacob wore.
"Mordin didn't have any suggestions?"
Tali turned in his direction and he had no doubt she was shooting him a disgusted glare. "He's too focused on the samples Shepard brought back from the Reaper ship. He told me to hook it up to the damned geth and see what happened."
The geth...
He rocked back on his heels, redirecting his attention to the IFF speculatively. Shepard had insisted on bringing the deactivated geth back to the Normandy, but hadn't yet reactivated it. Garrus knew she would, though. One geth could be contained and there were too many unanswered questions to let it remain so much dead weight. Like why the hell it wore a piece of the Commander's old N7 armor.
"No. Garrus, no," Tali spoke up sharply, and in his peripheral vision he saw Jacob straighten up.
"No way Miranda will sign off on waking that thing up," the Cerberus agent agreed.
Garrus shrugged. "It's not our call. But it's an option we can put forward to the Commander. Better we find out this thing is useless by risking a geth, rather than our ship."
"Officer Vakarian, such a connection may not be possible," EDI interjected. "Although I appreciate your efforts to preserve the integrity of my AI core, the geth platform does not contain the necessary spatial navigation programs to link up to an IFF. There is no clear alternative to establishing a direct physical connection between my navigational system and the device."
Joker had clearly been listening in, as the pilot's voice cut in hastily. "Can I remind everyone that our nav system is located just outside the cockpit? I do not want a Reaper box hooked up behind me while I'm trying to steer this thing. It's a bad idea, I keep saying that and nobody is listening."
Jacob slammed his hands down on the edge of the conference table. "The kid's right."
"Kid?!"
Garrus sighed heavily. "Enough. If we can't hook it up to the geth, why not the Kodiak? It has a nav drive."
There was silence as they considered the options.
"EDI, would that work?" Jacob asked hopefully.
There was a considering pause. "There is insufficient data on the IFF to answer conclusively. The Kodiak possesses the necessary navigation hardware, but does not contain FTL drives. Interstellar nav points would likely appear unintelligible to the Kodiak."
Garrus straightened. "It's our best option to test drive this thing. I'll put it to the Commander when she gets back."
"The Commander has already returned to the Normandy."
All three of them turned in surprise to EDI's azure interface. Over the radio, Joker cleared his throat awkwardly.
"She's heading right back out again. Shepard said not to interrupt you," he explained apologetically.
Tali raised her arms in exasperation. "I'll go take a look at the Kodiak, see if I can rig up something to interface with this... thing." With a final glare at the IFF, the quarian left the briefing room.
Jacob looked across the long table towards the turian. "Let me know what the Commander decides," he said, and followed her out.
Garrus blinked into the empty room, a little surprised by the Cerberus agent. Jacob had been the most resistant to his close involvement in Shepard's command, and he'd never been quite sure if that was a professional or personal stance. Either way, it looked like the other man had come to terms with it.
"Shepard's on her way back down to CiC now," Joker offered helpfully over the radio, as EDI's interface collapsed into nothingness.
Garrus cleared his throat, taking the hint. "Thanks, Joker."
He caught sight of Shepard as he made his way past the navigators, and the view made him falter. For some inexplicable reason, she was back in the sleek black dress Kasumi had forced her into for the Hock heist, stalking through the ship in those ridiculous heels.
"Shepard," he called, and wanted to cringe at the strength of his sub harmonics. It caught her attention though; she turned and offered up a cheerful grin as she waited for him to approach.
"Hey Garrus. I'm heading back out for a little undercover surveillance. We got a good lead on where Samara's daughter might be. Hopefully I can get her attention."
Looking like that? I have no doubt.
His heartbeat was suddenly racing, and it wasn't because of the as-yet-unexplored territory on display from Shepard's dress. He'd paid attention when Samara spoke about her daughters, particularly the unrepentant killer she had brought into the world.
"This is the Ardat-Yakshi daughter, right?" Vakarian asked, his voice dropping unhappily.
Shepard hesitated, and he felt her gaze move over him carefully. "C'mere," the Commander advised, and she led them past the navigators and into the relative privacy of the airlock. Joker threw a curious look over his chair.
"Talk to me, big guy. Is there an issue with the IFF?" Her hands were on her hips, her gaze steady on him and she was treating this whole situation like a barely-functioning piece of alien tech was the priority.
Vakarian curled his hands at his sides. "It's tricky but we have some ideas. They can wait till you get back. Shepard... This Morinth sounds like real trouble and you're..." He looked her over uneasily.
"Still armed, remember?" she reminded him, but the smile was gone completely now.
"Alone," Garrus finished, frowning at the airlock over her shoulder. This was his issue and he knew it; it was making it difficult to meet her eyes.
"The thousand year old Justicar doesn't count?"
He forced his gaze back over her; he could feel how stiff and flat his mandibles were, pressed back against his face. She could see it, she knew enough to catch it. "Not to me."
I left you alone and the Collectors killed you. You were out without me to hunt down Lawson's kid sister and got shot up. Hock's gunship nearly tore you to pieces while I was miles away.
It didn't matter that she'd been injured on missions with him, sometimes very badly. She had always come back alive. More importantly, he had known without a doubt that there was nothing anyone could have done to prevent those injuries - because he had always been there, watching her six. Always.
Shepard stepped in closer, dropping her voice carefully. "You know I can take care of myself."
There was no question; that was pure statement, spoken in certainty. All the same, Vakarian's head shot up and he stared at her in alarm. "Of course. Shepard, it's not that. But this looks like it's gone beyond simple recon."
It was too close to a challenge, and he writhed inwardly in shame. But when it came to Shepard, he didn't care. He could never stay silent if it meant putting her in danger.
Her expression, when he dared look up again, was not what he expected. She was serious, but not angry. Shepard touched his forearm lightly.
"There's nobody I trust more to watch my back, Garrus," she assured him quietly. "But you're more than my personal bodyguard. Samara can handle this."
He couldn't answer that, because Garrus knew if he opened his mouth, he'd regret whatever came out. He'd been there for the briefing Samara provided on her target. He remembered the danger Morinth provided, but he also remembered the intensity within the Justicar when she discussed her lethal daughter. Samara was ancient, powerful - and entirely too obsessed to see clearly about this situation.
Shepard squeezed his arm lightly and stepped back. "Samara's waiting for me at the Afterlife VIP room. I'll be back in a few hours, we can talk about it then."
Vakarian flattened his mandibles and watched her walk through the airlock, frowning unhappily as it cycled shut behind her. Shepard expected - demanded - that he keep the big picture in his crosshairs. She'd told him more than once that he needed to do more than follow. But she seemed oblivious to the very clear fact that taking down the Collectors required her to stay alive. When she risked her life in these incidental sideline adventures, she risked the bigger mission.
But she had told him where she was going.
Garrus narrowed his eyes, reviewing what he knew of the situation she was walking into. Samara might be there as a backup, but she would need to keep enough distance that Morinth wouldn't recognise her mother. That meant limited support for Shepard, who appeared to be dangling herself out as bait.
As far as mission parameters went, that was a little too loose for his liking.
It took him only a moment to weigh her probable displeasure against his own instincts and threat assessment. Tali and EDI were moving ahead with the IFF and didn't need him to hold their hands during the process. Meanwhile the Commander was engaging with a very lethal criminal with minimal backup.
The Commander didn't want blind obedience, and that had never been his style. It might piss her off, but he had to make sure she had backup. Morinth wouldn't take notice of one more turian in a dingy bar and if things went well, Shepard would never know he was there.
Garrus felt almost naked as he stepped into Afterlife's VIP room in civilian clothes. It wasn't just being back on Omega; it was the lack of comforting ablative armor wrapped around him, and the absence of his familiar rifle strapped to his back. He glanced around the large open space, filled with all manner of mercenaries, conmen, killers and thugs-for-hire, and ached to grab the visor from his back pocket and shove it back onto his head.
He hadn't been undercover since his C-Sec days and it had never been his forte. The VIP room was quieter than the main club and thankfully lacking in pole dancing asari watching everything on behalf of their queen. Aria was smart enough to ensure the illusion of privacy, though a quick glance assured Garrus that the electronic surveillance was still firmly in place.
Edging his way to the bar, he ordered a drink to justify his presence and settled into a seat. As he'd remembered, it offered a good overview of the main area, and he hoped to spot Shepard – or Morinth – without drawing attention to himself. Samara was nowhere in sight, and his stomach twisted anxiously. Was he too late? Had they already made contact with the Ardat-Yakshi?
Vakarian held his position at the bar, but it was another five minutes or so before a snarling krogan stalked in from a side entrance and caught his attention. A moment later, he saw Shepard follow him in; every line of her radiated smugness. She was practically strutting, but she was alone. No sign of Morinth. Whatever she was doing, she hadn't yet managed to lure the Ardat-Yakshi out.
Garrus felt the tension ease out of him. He wasn't too late.
The tiny radio unit perched by his ear crackled softly and Samara's voice sounded quietly through it.
"Officer Vakarian, I am pleased you were able to join us."
Vakarian narrowed his eyes, his mandibles twitching as he fought not to look around for the hidden Justicar. Wherever she was, she clearly had a good line of sight over the club.
"Doesn't look like she's having much luck so far," he replied quietly, lifting the glass to his mouth as he did so.
He heard Samara's sigh over the radio. "Perhaps I should not have suggested she begin by attempting to dance. Morinth is attracted to music and sensuality, however..."
Garrus flattened his mandibles against his face, coughing against the sudden urge to laugh. "She dances like she drives," he agreed, gaze steady on his Commander. "She's aiming for the violent approach instead?"
"It appears to be working. Her confrontation with the krogan was very public. Morinth has noticed her now," Samara answered tensely.
The sniper tensed up, his gaze flicking about sharply to try to spot the Justicar's daughter. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, but trusted Samara's assertion. It was at that moment that Shepard turned in his direction. Garrus inhaled, hoping her gaze would slide right past him; his luck was never that good. He felt his stomach twist as her eyebrows shot up in recognition and then narrowed dangerously.
Oh crap.
Deliberately twisting to put his back to her, the turian waited for the expected rebuke to come over the radio. Instead, he felt a slim shoulder nudge his as the Commander shoved by him to lean on the bar. Her hand raised to catch the attention of the bartender, busy at the other end of the bar.
"Wanna tell me what the hell you're doing here, Vakarian?" Shepard demanded, her voice low and hard; she kept her attention firmly fixed on the bartender.
Oh yeah. She was not happy. Garrus considered his options and decided his best bet was to meet her head on. Worst case scenario, he'd at least get points for courage.
"You knew this called for more backup," he muttered back, staring down at his drink. "You told me where you'd be and I put the extra pieces in the field. That was my call and I'm sticking to it."
She did look at him then, her head turning sharply in his direction. "Remind me to have a long talk with you about what I meant by taking initiative," the Commander muttered eventually.
She still didn't look happy about it, though. Garrus sighed. "You can't have it both ways. Either you want me to follow without question, or you accept that I'll step in when you don't take the backup a mission calls for."
The hard, pinched line around her mouth eased a little. "Fine. You've made your point."
He wasn't naive enough to think that was the end of it, but there were more important things to deal with first. "It looks like you could use a little help getting her attention anyway. She's not budging, and you can't approach her."
"What are you suggesting?" Shepard twisted to face him properly now, chin tilted up. There was definite interest there, layered over the sharp intelligence of a keen strategic mind.
He had an idea; he wasn't prepared to call it a plan. Hopefully, Morinth was still watching. Garrus had intended to stay in the background and provide an extra gun hand when it all inevitably went sideways. But he was adaptable; he could work with this.
Vakarian slid off the edge of the stool and into her space. "You caught her attention with whatever you did to that krogan outside," he pointed out calmly. "We can build on that."
Her eyes narrowed briefly, and he figured she'd gotten his point. At least, when he lifted a hand to touch the loose strands of hair falling around her face, she didn't flinch back. Interspecies couplings were hardly unusual, but the history between turians and humans was still too fresh. As a rule, they didn't get on and they definitely didn't flirt with each other in bars. Would it be unusual enough to draw Morinth's attention? From everything Samara had said, her Ardat-Yakshi daughter was lured by sex and power.
Shepard was close enough that he could see the faint lashes edging her eyelids. "You do a lot of undercover work like this back in the day?"
"Not quite like this," he drawled, tilting his head down so his mouth was close by her ear. He deliberately dropped into the range of sub harmonics that he knew got a response from her. This close to her, he could feel it; the faint shiver that had her twitch against his shoulder.
"Dammit, Vakarian. Do you have line of sight on her?"
His hand slid from the trailing strands of hair to her skin, down the line of her spine. Garrus wasn't entirely sure he'd intended to do that. "Samara does."
"That's something, at least."
He could hear the tension in her voice. This was getting out of control. It wasn't real and yet it was. Was it enough for Morinth? It was going to have to be.
"Now you're going to hit me," Garrus muttered in her ear.
She tensed against him immediately. "What?!"
"You've got her attention. Now you need to get away from me so she can make her move. Sex and power, remember? So, hit me. And make it good, Shepard."
He was baiting her; he knew it and so did she. But Garrus had to move this along before he let himself forget the danger of an Ardat-Yakshi waiting to be taken out.
"Officer Vakarian is correct. Morinth will appreciate sexual adventurousness, but will not approach if you appear unavailable."
Samara's voice made them both flinch, as they realized she'd been listening to the entire conversation. Shepard's body was still rigid against him, her eyes dark with something he couldn't interpret.
"Hit me," he growled again, more resonating sub harmonics than voice.
Garrus pulled back quickly enough to see the sharp gleam in her eyes, before he found himself reeling back under the impact of her closed fist to his face.
The snarling and swearing was real; of course she'd gone for his injured side.
"If I wanted a fucking drink, I'd buy it myself!" Shepard yelled loudly. As the sharp glances from others nearby turned dismissive with understanding, the Commander shot him one fierce, impossible to read look - how much of that is for show? - and stalked away from the bar.
One hand to his throbbing face, Vakarian watched her shoulder her way down to the other end of the bar. A nearby asari met his gaze with a knowing smirk as he slumped back onto the bar stool.
Shepard leaned over the bar, attracting the attention of the bartender. As he watched, rubbing at his face ruefully, Garrus had to give her points for style. When she loudly informed the bartender she was shouting a round of drinks for everyone at the bar, the defiant look she shot him was pure brilliance.
Independent, fierce and aggressive as hell. If Morinth isn't interested now...
Vakarian swallowed dryly as he watched his Commander stalk away from the bar, only to be stopped by a pale asari grabbing her as she passed. The Ardat-Yakshi looked enough like Samara that he would have picked her even without the mug shots the Justicar had provided.
"Thank you, Officer Vakarian," Samara's voice sounded softly over the radio. "I am uncertain this would have been successful without your intervention."
Watching the first human Spectre vanish into a secluded booth with a known serial killer, Garrus reflected uneasily on the fact that he was instrumental in putting her there.
"Anytime, Samara," he answered weakly, pushing his barely-touched drink aside. "Where are you?"
"Overhead, second floor. Take the stairs by the bar."
Rising from the chair, he moved in that direction. The bartender was too busy filling drinks orders for everyone to notice the lone turian sliding through the doorway marked 'staff only.' A few moments later, Garrus was upstairs in the unlit room with Samara, peering down anxiously over the club.
"If the Commander can entice her sufficiently, Morinth will invite her to a more secluded location," the asari explained, her eyes a mystery as she stared down at her wayward, lethal daughter.
Mandibles flat against his face, Garrus nodded. "Then what? How quickly does she make her move?"
The real question he was asking lay heavily between them. How much danger was Shepard in right now?
Samara hesitated. "It varies. Sometimes she draws the hunt out over several weeks. Sometimes she kills immediately. I... can't say for sure what she will have planned for Shepard once they're alone."
Grimly, he pulled his visor out and resettled it back on his head. The pistol tucked around his ankle was retrieved and holstered at his back. It might not be much against a powerful biotic, but all he'd need would be one clear shot between the eyes.
"They're leaving," Garrus announced a moment later as the two women rose and made their way towards the exit.
Samara moved and he was right on her heels. Their extraction route put them back into the corridors outside Afterlife barely in time to catch sight of Morinth leading Shepard down a sideway. Vakarian had done this before; trailing perps at a distance was nothing new. He didn't recall ever being quite so anxious about it though.
Morinth didn't take a skycar, which said her destination was within walking distance. That was something, at least. Samara kept them further back than he liked, particularly when the Ardat-Yakshi led their Commander into a wide pavilion lined with apartment complexes. Nice ones, or as nice as it got on Omega. Wide glassed windows looked down on them from above, a patchwork of light and darkness.
"There," Samara commented as her daughter turned into one of the apartment complexes.
By the time they hit the apartment foyer, Shepard and Morinth were nowhere in sight. Garrus hesitated a moment, surveying the open entrance hall with its two elevators on either side. The displays overhead indicated one elevator was stopped at the 13th floor and the other at the 10th.
Narrowing his eyes through the visor, Vakarian called up the IR option, studying the heat trails hopefully. It was a fragile enough lead, but when he spotted a slight increase in ambient temperature around the left elevator, he was prepared to take the gamble.
"This one," he said, stepping into it and hitting the button.
It was only a few moments before they reached the thirteenth floor, but tension was edging along his nerves by the time they did. Garrus stared blankly down a corridor lined with a half dozen doors, his stomach twisting uneasily. With no other option, he cranked the audio on his visor and went door to door. Two had the dead silence of empty apartments, one the faint sound of male laughter and one didn't even need visor-enhanced audio to pick up a couple fighting angrily.
"Anything?" Samara asked tightly as he paused before another door.
Vakarian hesitated, catching the sound of voices. "Could be," he answered slowly.
"Independence over submission... We share that, you and I.."
Garrus hissed in annoyance, pressing up against the door.
"We've both killed many times..."
That voice he recognized. Shepard!
"This is it," he snapped, stepping sideways to give the Justicar room. He watched her access the decryption programs on her omni-tool, bringing it down to link to the door alarm system.
Resisting the urge to pace, Garrus kept his ear to the wall. He could hear that unfamiliar voice again, the one he knew had to be Morinth. He couldn't catch every word, but from her tone, she didn't sound happy.
"... -at do you know? Let's stop playing games. Look into my eyes... tell me you want me... you'd kill for me... anything..."
The sick feeling bloomed in the pit of his stomach. What hellish Ardat-Yakshi trick was she pulling on Shepard? He'd watched Liara sink herself into the Commander's brain, watched her help Shepard to embrace eternity. He couldn't forget the look on Shepard's face - angry, afraid, and out of her depth. Liara had been gentle. Morinth wouldn't be, whatever she was doing.
"Samara, hurry!" he urged anxiously. Shepard's voice, even muffled by the door, was defiant but alarmingly weak.
"Don't count on it."
Samara made a satisfied noise as the decryption program unlocked Morinth's security system. The door clicked open, and the Justicar was through it instantly with the faint blue glow of biotics already surging around her skin.
"Morinth!" A biotic pulse accompanied the shout, giving Garrus just enough time to see the Ardat-Yakshi pull back from a dazed-looking Shepard before she was slammed against a floor to ceiling glass window.
Morinth writhed furiously under the biotic pressure, as he hurried over to Shepard's side. Garrus crouched before her, watching anxiously as her unfocused gaze looked up at him. Whatever the hell Morinth had been doing in her head, it had taken a toll. "Shepard, you okay?" He watched her blink, the pupils retracting back to a normal size.
"Yeah... I think so." Shepard grimaced. "Your timing was perfect. Thanks, big guy."
"Anytime." He pulled her carefully to her feet, watching intently for any sign of dizziness. She seemed steady enough, and as she peered over his shoulder at the biotically charged asari, she seemed to realize the danger of their situation quickly enough.
"Let's back up a little and give the lady some room," Shepard suggested.
They were just in time. Garrus felt the firm line of the wall against his back a moment before Morinth exploded with biotic energy. The asari managed to free herself with such force that Samara was sent stumbling back.
"My only crime was being born with the gifts you gave me!" The infuriated asari plucked a chair from the ground, sending it tumbling into the air towards her mother.
"Do we step in?" Garrus asked uncertainly, his hand edging towards the pistol and wondering what use it would be against this.
Should have brought the Viper. Maybe the M-15 for Shepard. And a few grenades. Why didn't I bring any grenades? Hell, I haven't seen anything like this since Benezia.
Shepard's hand dropped to his arm, halting the motion before he could draw the handgun. "I think maybe we're a little outclassed in this fight, Garrus."
The two asari were both on their feet now, facing off against each other. There was more furniture in the air, circling around the two of them; Garrus wasn't sure which of them were controlling the sharp surges of biotics that leapt between them.
"They seem fairly evenly matched, Shepard. I don't want to sound pessimistic, but there's no guarantee Samara will be winning this one."
He felt her shift restlessly, her shoulder nudging his. "Let's not count her out just yet, big guy."
The slow-spiralling furniture circled around the two asari, more unnerving than the bolt of azure energy that linked them as mother and daughter strove to gain an edge over the other. Garrus shifted his weight from one foot to the other, fighting the urge to shove Shepard behind him. Neither of them were wearing armor right now, but his plates would take more punishment than her bare, half-exposed skin would.
Of course, Shepard had her own biotics to rely on if it came down to her. They wouldn't take down Morinth, but they were more than enough to raise a barrier to fend off any wayward furniture flung their way. Maybe he should be hiding behind her instead.
As the minutes ticked past, Garrus began to realize exactly how evenly matched the two asari were. They couldn't gain any ground over the other; whenever one would strike, the other had a block and counter strike ready to go. Was it going to come down to endurance? Which one could stand this exertion longer?
On that count, Vakarian would put his credits on Samara.
Morinth must have realized that in the end, and her gaze cut sharply towards Shepard. "I'm as strong as she is," the Ardat-Yakshi said in a voice that showed the strain of her efforts. Yet there was something obscenely seductive as her dark eyes slid over the human Spectre, something compellingly dangerous in her voice as she urged softly, "let me join you!"
Garrus straightened in alarm, looking down at his Commander. She was frowning, but it was Samara she was looking at.
Then he saw Samara nod firmly. "I am already sworn to help you, Shepard," the Justicar said regretfully. "Let us finish this."
It was the permission Shepard had been waiting for. She moved immediately from his side, grabbing Morinth's biotically charged arm before the asari realized what was happening. The Commander twisted the azure arm sharply downwards, freeing Samara from the stalemate.
"End of the line, Morinth," Commander Shepard told her quietly.
Garrus saw the Ardat-Yakshi look frantically from the human she'd considered prey, to the mother who'd spent a lifetime hunting her. He saw the moment she realized there was no way out.
He wasn't really surprised that she didn't go down gracefully. "And they call me a monster!" she spat at Shepard, an instant before Samara's blast knocked her feet out from under her.
It was already over, long before Samara pinned her daughter to the floor with one hand. Garrus wrapped a hand around Shepard's upper arm and pulled her back. She went willingly, turning her back on the final moments of Morinth's life.
In the silence that followed, Garrus found himself staring down at Shepard's face. "Sure you're okay? I don't know what Morinth was doing to you when we got in, but I'm sure it wasn't pleasant."
"It wasn't," Shepard answered grimly. "But she had nothing I wanted. There was no way it was going to work for her."
Garrus wasn't sure what she meant by that. Something in the set of her jaw, the tone of her voice, discouraged him from him asking. So he just nodded, turning to see Samara rising to her feet over the unmoving body of her daughter.
The Justicar approached slowly. "I am ready to leave this place and get on with my life."
There was a wealth of sorrow in Samara's rich voice, but those ancient eyes of hers were calm. Garrus respected that. There would be fallout from what Samara had been forced to do, but the lady would face it alone.
Shepard just nodded. "Let's go."
The ancient asari moved towards the door. Garrus made to follow and found a hand on his arm holding him in place. He turned to find the Commander watching him with cool eyes.
"Vakarian. When we get back to the Normandy, don't go far. We need to talk."
The elevator descended like a sloth, creeping down it's metal walkway with colossal slowness. Garrus could feel his pulse racing anxiously; Shepard's presence radiated like a supernova on the other side of the small space. She hadn't said anything more, but he could feel the tension. He didn't know how Samara could stand between them and not burn up. He didn't know how she could miss it - whatever 'it' was.
Would this elevator ride never end?
Garrus was both thankful for the Justicar's presence, and resentful of it. Without her... And when she left... Hell. He knew the smart thing would be to follow her off at the crew deck. But when the elevator doors opened, Shepard flashed a single look at him.
He knew that look. It meant "move, and you're dead."
Vakarian stayed right where he was. Samara didn't look at either of them as she stepped out.
He watched silently as his Commander slapped a hand out and hit the button for deck one. For an instant, there was silence except for the grind of metal and hydraulics as the lift began its sluggish climb upwards.
Probably best to jump right in, then.
"Shepard, I know you're pissed and I-"
"Vakarian. Shut up."
He shut up.
Shepard sighed heavily. "I'm not angry. I get it. You have no idea how much I get it." Her chin lifted and the expression on her familiar, alien face was suddenly impossible for him to read. "You think I liked walking into that apartment on Omega and realizing you were in that situation because I wasn't there to back you up?"
It floored him; Vakarian stared at her incredulously. He could feel his mandibles twitching sharply as he struggled to speak but his mind was devoid of anything resembling coherent thought.
"I hated it. Hated seeing you there on your own, so damn close to... I never want you to go through that again. I wish I could promise you never will. That I'll always be there to watch your back and make sure you come home safe."
She was staring straight ahead, but he could see her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides, her lips parted as she breathed in and out with careful, mechanical control.
"Shepard, I don't blame you for not being there on Omega," Garrus ventured carefully.
His Commander turned to face him head on. "I blame me," she said softly. "So I get why you came out today. This is a conversion we should have had a long time ago. I'm not mad. How the hell could I be? You just showed me you're willing to piss me off to make sure the job gets done the right way."
"Shepard... I'm behind you on this, all the way. You know that. But I need to be clear about this. I'm not okay with you going out without backup. We can't risk losing you, not if we want to stop the Collectors and one day, maybe, if we're real damn lucky, save this galaxy from the Reapers as well. You're too important to the mission, and the galaxy and..." He stopped, took a breath, and dove in blind. "And to me, dammit."
"Hell, Garrus."
He didn't actually realize he'd closed his eyes until her voice made him open them again. It was impossible to interpret her expression; he just wasn't that familiar with humans yet and he'd never seen anything like it. But his visor was lit up with all those signs she had taught him to read in human women. The increased heartbeat, the elevated temperature, the pupils slowly expanding to black.
His heart thudded sharply against his ribs as he realized what he'd said. She was watching him; eyes dark, lips curving into a smile like nothing he'd ever seen on her before.
The elevator creaked slowly upwards and he felt her move at his side. An inch; another. She was close enough to touch now but he didn't. Garrus abruptly realized that they were now heading straight for her cabin and he had no idea what would happen when they got there.
They held like that for a heartbeat, watching one another in cautious stillness. The uncertain eagerness, the want building between them.
Then it hit critical mass and the moment shattered into motion. Garrus didn't have a clue what he was doing and he figured she was just as lost, but it didn't matter. It was a second of reaching, grasping, fumbling, with neither of them quite knowing what parts of the other to reach for, just knowing they needed to. He grabbed and lifted and when he could breathe again, Shepard was in his arms, her back was pressed up hard against the elevator wall and his hands were full of warm, firm human thighs. Thighs attached to mostly-bare legs that wrapped around his waist as he held her pressed to the wall, and she pulled him in closer -
"Oh hell, if I'm dreaming please don't wake me up," she gasped, as he was pulled flush up against her hips.
His hands clenched spasmodically against her hips, and Garrus sucked in a long lungful of air in hopes it would clear a vision gone white with shock. Shock and a white-hot burn that had him pressing his hips deeper against hers, pinning her in place so he could free a hand to touch her face.
Shepard opened her eyes and stared at him in wonder. He didn't have a clue what his own face must look like. Shocked. Mindless. Out of control.
Whatever she saw, she clearly liked, because Garrus felt her hand curving up over his fringe. Soft, delicate human fingers drifted along his cowl, then curled against the back of his neck and he felt pressure pulling him down to her. He didn't resist, too eager to be close to her, and it was with a sharp, hot surge of pleasure that he felt her small, sweet human mouth press itself to his face. She started off-centre, placing her mouth over his injured mandible, still bruised and sore from where she'd decked him earlier. Garrus shivered lightly under her careful, eager touch, as she kissed along the length of his mandible, down towards his mouth.
It was so new to him still, so strange. This kissing thing. But she was nipping and licking at the edges of his mouth, her tongue wet and hot and her hands and legs clutching at him. That white burn began to eat at his brain again and he sighed wistfully; felt the shiver run through her as his breath kissed her mouth.
The elevator doors opened as they arrived at level one, forcing him to pull back and drag his head out of his hormones. Shepard's eyes were almost black, but she was smiling.
"If I invite you in now, you'll say something noble and honourable about sticking to the plan and waiting, won't you?" she commented wryly, as her fingers traced light patterns over his fringe.
Vakarian inhaled sharply, and gripped at her hips reflexively. "Actually, I was planning on carrying you into your cabin and reminding you that we're more seize-the-day types," he admitted, with a low, shaky laugh.
"Garrus," she sighed. "I never knew you were such a romantic."
It broke the awkwardness of the moment, and then they were both moving; he pulled back and she got her feet back under her. The edge of her mouth was curled into that familiar grin, the one that made his heart thud fiercely against his ribs.
Shepard didn't say anything, but her hand was somehow linked with his and the invitation was clear as she stepped out of the elevator. Following her into the subtle gloom of the loft, Vakarian's throat was dry. She was always unpredictable, but he couldn't quite believe she would invite him into her cabin – now.
It was almost a relief when she turned to put her back against her cabin door, and peered up at him. "Garrus..." Shepard lifted her hand to brush lightly over his injured mandible. "You did the right thing today. The extra back up was a good call."
Tension he hadn't fully been aware of eased out of him in surprise. Garrus blinked down at her, mandibles shifting into a smile.
"I know," he managed in a low drawl, striving for cocky certainty because he didn't want her to see how relieved he was. He wasn't even fully sure within himself whether it had been concern for her safety or the success of the job that motivated him today. Vakarian was no longer sure where those two separated; they seemed fully entwined within his mind.
"There's that turian arrogance I've heard so much about." Shepard smirked up at him, and she was so close still, so real and alive. He had to touch her; Garrus saw his own hands reach for her, curling firmly around her bared upper arms.
"Do me a favor, Shepard." He squeezed her arms lightly. "No more solo missions. Not until the Omega Relay."
It was insane, talking like this to his Commander. She was in her rights to lay him out cold and he was half tensed in readiness for it. A turian Commander wouldn't have hesitated at such a breach of discipline.
But Shepard was human, and even by human standards she was unique. And unpredictable.
The Commander leaned in, rising up onto her toes so that her face was close to his. Too damn close; he could feel her breath on his face. "Careful, Vakarian," Shepard said softly; so quietly that even he could barely hear her. "You keep talking like that and we'll never last to the relay for our awkward interspecies thing."
He went numb in shock; his hands loosened their grip in uncertain reaction.
"Shepard, I -"
"Quiet, Vakarian. This is the part where you kiss me good night."
That was an order he was happy to obey. Her chin lifted and he was familiar with this by now. The taste of her on his tongue, the warmth of her breath; the faint shiver that ran through her. It was tempting, always tempting to draw it out and sink deeper into the surge of hunger that raced along his nerves each time they did this. It took every ounce of will he had to pull back.
Garrus let his forehead rest gently against hers. He could hear the too-fast draw of her breath, feel the tension in her frame as it eased slowly. Vakarian exhaled softly, allowing himself to relax into the moment. The silence of it, the peace of it; it was not often in his life he'd felt contentment like this.
Let her go and walk away. Do it now, or not at all.
He didn't want to. More than anything, he wanted to follow her into her cabin, peel that ridiculous dress away, and undertake some up close and personal exploration of the human form. If this had just been a bad case of battle lust, he wouldn't have hesitated. But whatever was between them was so much more than that, and Garrus refused to break their deal.
His talons tangled briefly in her hair. "Night, Shepard."
Before she could answer, he'd moved. Pulled away and out of reach, back to the doors to the elevator, open and waiting. Once he was safely inside the elevator, he looked back and found her watching him with dark, thoughtful eyes. For a moment, he thought she'd call him back and he knew he'd go.
But then her head tilted and her smile shone brightly. "You have a deal, Vakarian. No more solo missions."
Garrus felt his heart thud in amazement. He wanted to say something, something other than thank you, and knew if he spoke it would just be a stream of incoherent babbling. Instead, he let his hand fall on the elevator button and watched her until the doors closed her out. Closed him safely into the confines of the elevator, and took him down deeper into the ship, while he stood there with a startled expression and reflected on how damn lucky he was.
He'd challenged his commander, made demands of her and circumvented her orders. His father was right; he was a terrible turian. But today, Garrus Vakarian couldn't quite bring himself to care.